Spanishbelle’s BodyBlog

THE BODY IS A VEHICLE…..

Your body is the vehicle that will take you through this life.  How well are you treating it?

Imagine if you only had one car the rest of your life to get around in…no walking, no taxis, no subways…just one car…how well would you care for that vehicle?

If you don’t run the car enough the battery will die…if you leave the car running without a rest, the stress on the battery will wear it out.  Imagine this battery is your heart, you only have one.

Would you use the best oil?  The best gas?  What you put in your body for fuel has the same long term effect.  Care for your vehicle — it’s the only one you’ve got!

So I came across this one particular read, "Born-again Virgin."  I couldn’t help but wonder, is it possible to become a "renewed" virgin? 

I finished the article and found some women want their viginity back for religious reasons.  Their life is at stake due to family religious beliefs which could possibly lead to an "honor" killing.  Personally, I wouldn’t go back to that foreign country, but, if you fall under this category get that hymen reattached!  I’m all for the land of the living and for as long as possible.  And yes, for the record, there is a surgery in order to get that baby "renewed."  For a cool $5000, hymen back in-the-house!

Other reasons listed made me go "hmmm…."  One woman felt her husband deserved a whole person.   My question, "No virginity equals half a person?"  There was this one other woman who just wanted to give it to her husband as an anniversary gift.  Seriously? Let me get it straight, you get your hymen "renewed" then what?  What happens to the Tom, Dick and Harry guys you did have sex with?  What kind of operation would those memories require?  A lobotomy?  And somewhere in this crazy article, men also claimed they were reborn virgins.  VERY confused here…what kind of man is that?!

So, here we are, 2008 with some old world struggles.  This issue of virginity or how many men one’s been with equated to self-value and worth.  And still, not much struggle whereas men are concerned.  I question what to really chalk it up to.  Religion?  Society?  The good girl Barbie factor?  You know, the whole beautiful, pure, perfect nostalgic notion of what a woman should be.  I hated Barbie.  I got sick of her smile, her perfect figure, and her pretty hair.   So, I cut her hair and burned her.  Then, my Mom gave me Ken.  I cut my other Barbie’s hair, stripped her naked, laid Ken on top of Barbie, burned Barbie and kept Ken.  I wasn’t buying it then just like I’m not buying it now, this whole idea of being perfect for the sake of whatever when the same rules don’t apply.  Come to think of it, discussing my mistakes "growing pains" have been some of the best conversations and eye-opening moments in my life. 

Despite my last rant and rave about not being able to withstand another set and rep I’ve been in the gym.  Sometimes, you just have to put all feelings aside, remain focused on the goals (whatever they may be) and get down to work.  I haven’t missed a day since that blog entry.  I worked up a new program and have been hitting the gym 4 days out of the week.  Started back on eating clean and eating more, to an extent.  I must say, there is room for improvement.  I’m adding cardio this week.  I didn’t have time for it yesterday, there will be no exceptions or excuses today.

I must have looked like a mad woman in the gym yesterday.  My day got away from me and I only had 45 minutes to get my workout in before picking up my youngest from school.  I raced to the gym and began hitting it, hard, fast and furious.  I noticed some stares, no big deal, kept working.  Except, I noticed a lot more glances than the norm.  So, I checked myself out.  Made sure my ass wasn’t out of my shorts, it wasn’t.  Yes, they’re a little short but I’ve worn them before, nothing they haven’t seen before.  I made sure stuff wasn’t coming out of my top, it wasn’t.  I kept on going and got it all in, legs, glutes, ABS and quickly made my way to the locker room.  According to my watch I had 15 minutes for extended day to be over and it takes 7 minutes to get there.  On my way out a man approached me, I slowed down my pace.  He came up to me and said, "I want you to know, you are impressive."  I was a sweaty mess, breathing hard, hair in a pony tail, still intense due to the workout and in a serious rush.  I wasn’t expecting a compliment and his kind words instantly drained the intensity and rush out of me, you could have knocked me over with a feather.  After such hard work, it was nice.  Thank You I replied and went about my day.  Words, they carry so much more weight than anything you could ever lift or push and that was impressive. 

While at the gym a couple of newcomers were working out next to me.  One of the guys couldn’t lift a certain amount of weight and his friend said to him, “you’re such a pussy.”  Those men and I made eye contact and they apologized.  First of all, just the word itself brings a visual to my mind.  Don’t know why, it’s a no effort required visual.  I’m thinking it’s simply due to conditioning.  Certain words bring out certain thoughts…like ass or dick.  Did you get a visual or am I just one sick thinking puppy?  Aside from the visual, something else irked me, at the moment, I walked off disturbed and not sure what was so disturbing. 

Needless to say the word “pussy” has been on my mind and I’ve noticed the term is coined in many different ways.  For example, “you’re a pussy” or “pussy whipped” or “pussified.”  Despite the many ways in which the term is coined what was apparent is the association of ”pussy” with weakness, less than, being timid or somewhat unmanly.  The other obvious fact, it’s not a compliment.  And so I can’t help but wonder and ask myself, does it jive?  The association of “weak” and “feeble” with the word “pussy?” As adults have we processed such thoughts through our heads and questioned the evolution of it? 

So, along comes my husband, he was frustrated and said he was a “pussy” for not having such and such license.  LOL, ironic isn’t it?  So, I asked…”Honey, why pussy?“  To which he just didn’t have an explanation for. 

It just doesn’t make sense to me to be honest with you.  Taking the word itself, in it’s literal sense a pussy rules the animal kingdom.  What is it, a lion, tiger?  Male or not, it’s still a pussy.  Taking the word itself into account, if you don’t get any, you’re not happy.  Someone is always in chase of one.  Then, there are those special cases where some men want to trade in their rod for one.  Let’s not forget the the whole baby thing, you think taking a dump is work…yeah.  The moral of this blog, to give you some PAUSE the next time, if ever, you decide to call someone a “pussy” or “pussify” a situation.  Sexual or not, some people or situations are not worthy of the term….so hey, mind the pussy.

1. WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX 

If you’re not up for it, then don’t read this blog.  I’m going to cuss and speak of a language that is just plain offensive.  Personally, I like verbal action of the implied and not so implied.  However, only my husband speaks to me of the not so implied.  So, let me get down to it, I AM SICK OF WORKING OUT.  I can’t stand the thought of another rep, set, or even the freaking drive to the gym.  I’m sorry, I know this is bb.com and some of you have just suffered an attack of some sort, but it is what it is.  I’ve lost my workout mojo and it’s all across the board.  So, I’m rationalizing here, thinking maybe some "planned" time off will ease the guilt of the days I’ve been skipping a workout.  However, there is always that fear in the back of my mind where days might turn into weeks, weeks might turn into months and before you know it, there you are once again back to the soft fat ass you used to be.  So I wonder, how do some of these people on BB.com stay so focused and dedicated?  As I see Maddi and her ABS showing through.  Have you checked out her new guns?  Then there’s Mr. Bodyauditor who diligently and faithfully does his leg lifts.  LOL, bad example…bad.  I say to myself, "you’ve made it this far, don’t give up now"  which makes me want to puke with disgust.  Such sissy words and NO, for the record, I AM NOT PMSing!  I miss the days where the hard work felt good and it turned me on.  Walking out of there with a smile on my face, very satisfied.  I’m headed to the gym to work the legs and glutes.  I hate it though, just hate it and I wish that wasn’t so. 

A couple of things, I can’t believe we are halfway into the month of February.  Where does the time go?  January was a bear in this house, sick here, sick there…sick, sick, sick.  I had many plans for starting the New Year and sick was not on the list.  I was relieved when January was over and February came around.  New month, new beginning, new enthusiasm.  That was until I got a speeding ticket speeding in a school zone.  It was an honest mistake.  I was unfamiliar with the area, thought the school zone had come to an end when it had not.  I was very upset, but I put it in perspective and moved on.  That was until my teenager called this last Saturday saying he was lost and his car would not start.  He was lost all right, in a shady part of the city.  By the time it was all said and done, kid and car at home, it was 2:00 a.m.  My son was pretty upset.  You just wonder about people at times.  There were some people asking him for money, others calling him names.  Could they not tell he is only 16?  Or is that why they did it, because he is 16, alone and lost?  After all this, I thought, can’t get worse.  So, I did my math and got ready for a Monday workout with a girlfriend.  Well, come Monday I ran over my own finger on the Hack Squat machine.  It’s what happens when you’re chatting it up and not paying attention.  After the finger incident I managed to trip over the scale in the ladies locker room and now my toe is not looking pretty either.  Let me just say, I am a freaking mess! 

I’ve been thinking, could it be that I brought this bad Karma upon myself?  In my last blog, I wrote something like I’m a competitor, mind, body and spirit….blah, blah, blah and it has come back to bite me on the ass.  According to the SECRET I’m sending out vibes into the universe so I’m calling these things to me.  Then I think, maybe, just maybe, God read my blog…read that one particular entry and HE thinks I’m quite full of myself…so, I’m being tested, tried, beat up and put out….mind, body and spirit!  Or even worse yet, HE BELIEVED ME.  HAVE MERCY!  LOL.

I like that number.  LOL.  However, in the world of academics it fails to please.  I did fail that darn exam with a good old 69.  I’m feeling okay now, half a bag of Risen, one whole bag of Hot Fries, powdered donuts, a pizza and an extra pound later.  I’ve done some serious physical damage this week. It’s cool though, kids are back to healthy, house is clean again and I’m working up a new workout.  As for the math, one chapter at a time.  I’ll be back in the gym next week, back in class, and a little more focused.  Sometimes, in the small setbacks one encounters it comes down to how you define yourself, I’m a competitor, mind, body & spirit. 

I am so depressed.  I took a math exam today (yes, ass back in school) and it did not go well.  I don’t need to wait for the actual grade to let you know I bombed it.  What gets me here, I put some effort in the material.  When it came to the exam I suffered what I now call a MATH STROKE.  My brain would not compute any of the factoring equations.  It read like my calculator, ERR: SYNTAX- QUIT.  I don’t understand!  I was a factoring crap out left and right two days ago.  I am so down about this I don’t want to go to the gym.  Mentally exhausted, defeated, depressed so I jumped in bed, pulled out my SOS bag of Risen candy and scheduled a massage.  The house is a freaking mess.  Now, you know things aren’t right with this Belle when the house is a mess….hate a messy house as much as I hate math.  Called my Mom, needed some loving…she said there are worse things that can happen to me.  LOL…LOVE HER!  Called a friend, she’s down with the flu…told me she’d prefer to bomb a test than have the flu, now she has to reschedule her boob surgery.  She’s a boob whore, on her third rack.  Said she was going to send me some music to listen to, great way to get aggression, depression out and calming in the end.  This is what she sent…LOL…LOVE HER TOO. 

A little over indulgence this weekend, plenty of food, beer and late nights.  Loved the superbowl, I’m actually starting to understand the darn game.  I didn’t fall asleep during the game, loved Tom Petty during the half-time show and my favorite commercial, Budweiser (I was drinking to that) and the Dorito with the rat.  LOL.  Still has me laughing this morning.  Anyway, maybe I should have posted this on Friday, could have saved some of us a headache or getting a little acquainted with the toilet.