Want a laugh?

Hey gang guess what?!  I am officially a freelance writer over at Boozey.com!

My first post is up today and features some of my all time favorite things, Beer, Bacon and Blowjobs.  Click on through for a laugh and to show support!  The more traffic I get, the more they let me write, and I’ve got some great poop and sex stories that I want to share with the world.

Thanks kittens!

Can one of my goals be to get out of bed every day?

Last week will from here forward be referred to as my “benchmarking week.”

Coming off my 7 week hiatus from doing anything even remotely healthy for myself (unless you count all the red wine I was drinking as healthy?  No?  Not so much?  Bottle a night doesn’t qualify for health benefits?  Well ok then.  Bastard.) last week was kind of a re-boot week for myself.

My Wednesday confession and subsequent pep talks got me back into the gym, but other than that I was just working on getting back into a habit of doing anything healthy for myself.

I tracked my sleep, food intake, and weight over a 7 day period so I would have some idea of where I’m starting from.

It’s not pretty kittens.  At the moment, as I’m temporarily retired, I’m sleeping way more than necessary.  I’m also eating way WAY more than I need to be, and while it’s still relatively nutrient dense, my portions are out of control.  As you might imagine, my weight is up and I’m itching to get some goals in place to get myself in check.

So without further ado, here are my goals for this week.  Yeah, they might seem “easy” to the fit and freaking irritating, but for me, I need to take baby steps to make my health a habit again.

5 Crossfit classes this week.  Scale as needed to get the work in.
Track all food and calories (I use myfitnesspal app).  Keeps cals under 2000 daily.
Include a serving of veggies with every meal.
Drink no more than 3 nights this week (baby steps here, baby steps).
Get out of bed by 8 a.m. daily.

Once I’m successful this week, I’ll add more for next week!

How about you guys and gals?  What are you going to do this week to reach your goals?

Bitchslapping yourself in public…

When I say that I effing love my Crossfit community, I’m not kidding.  Below is my Facebook post to my Crossfit peeps on Wednesday of this week:

Ok gang, I’m throwing down the gauntlet… on myself. Today marks 7 weeks since I’ve set foot in the box, and I need to snap out of it. What started off as a legitimate excuse (super duper sick) has spiraled out of control and I’m back to being inactive and unhealthy. I’ve made up countless excuses over the past several weeks as to why I’m not yet ready to come back, but here’s the truth, I’m scared. I’ve gained weight… a lot of it. I’ve lost fitness, a lot of it, and I’m super self conscious to come back. But today I woke up and gave myself a bit of a bitch slap. I am the only person who can change this, and I am the only one standing in my way. I know I’m probably not alone, so I’m putting this out there to encourage anyone else who might have some negative inner monologue going on themselves. Waiting another day or week isn’t going to make it better, going to the box and DOING SOMETHING to make it better will. I’ll be there at 4:30 today. I missed you guys.


In response over 20 folks offered words of encouragement, including coach.  Five additional peeps reached out to me privately, told me they faced the same struggle, and we are now each other’s accountability partners with getting back to the box.

My first class back Coach gave me a high five and told me he missed me.  Three different people told me they were there that night because they saw my post and it was the kick in the pants they needed.

It’s just incredible.  Sure, Crossfit offers some great physical benefits.  And yeah, I’m doing it because I want to Hulk out and lose some weight and what not… but I never in a million years could have imagined gaining an entire group of people who are so amazing and supportive through just working out.

This “side benefit” if you will, is what makes this arguably the most awesome thing I’ve ever been a part of.

I mean, other than the horizontal lambata with the hubs.  But that’s a post for another time.

No really, I’m fine. Just an accidental orgasm.

Lately I keep reading about how toes to bar causes people to unexpectedly orgasm.

It’s a real thing, I swear.  Google it.

It seems it happens in both men and women, though in women it seems to be something they know is coming (see what I did there) while in men it’s usually extremely unexpected.

I totally believe it.  It’s one of those movements where there’s a lot of rubbing and pelvic floor action, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen some accidental boners from it.

Julie Foucher doing toes to bar.  I'm pretty sure if I were a guy this pic alone would give me an accidental boner.
Julie Foucher doing toes to bar. I’m pretty sure if I were a guy this pic alone would give me an accidental boner.

So now I really really want to get toes to bar.

But at the same time, I’m terrified I’m going to be one of the people who has this superpower.

What if I can’t stop myself?  What if, three into a set I spontaneously combust and turn into a screamer?  I mean, not that anyone would notice anything strange there since I do make some weird noises when I exercise.

But, oh God, what if it’s so unexpected that I can’t prepare?  I can see it now:  I splooge and then lose my grip, fall off the bar, whap my head on the way down and end up with a concussion?

On second thought, maybe I don’t want to actually get toes to bar.

This Crossfit business is even riskier than I thought.


October Crossfit day 2 on the books with the 6 a.m. class.  To my credit I was totally comatose this morning when my alarm went off but still managed to pull mysef out of bed and get to the box.  I’m glad I did, it was a short but great workout that started the day right!

Warm Up: The usual.  I’m surprisingly not really sore at all today, which is unusual by a Wednesday for me.

Mobility:  We made sweet sweet love to the LX ball this morning again.  Rolled our glutes (well hello butt knots, who knew those were there?), our pecs, our calves and our shoulders.  My calves literally almost made me cry.  The faces and noises were priceless.

WOD:  12 minute AMRAP
20 DU’s
15 KB swings
15 sit ups
15 cal row

Score: 3+3… I think.  That, or it was 4+3.  I didn’t keep track on a white board and was half asleep.  With 25 lbs KB and soft step ups instead of DU’s.

I wish my foot felt better.  I want to jump the rope.  But I did the spongey runny up up down and then step nicely on sore foot down maneuver.  It was effective.  I want panting in no time.

KB swings still suck.  Coach had us watch a video of the right and wrong ways to do it and then practice snapping our hips and stopping at full extension, not going past vertical into some sort of back bendy maneuver.  Truthfully, I don’t know if I do this or not.  I paid a lot of attention to myself today, and I think I do a pretty good job of stopping when I’m fully extended.  I tend to sort of hop every time I swing up (which is probably a total waste of energy, but it’s just what my body does when I try to snap my hips).  I think I need to ask coach to just watch me do these once and make sure I’m not an offender of the hyperextending.

Sit ups are my jam.  And rowing still rocks my casbah.  I was getting about 1 calorie per pull today on the row which was some sweet action.

All in all a fun WOD.

I think we’re probably unofficially (or likely officially though not saying it out loud) in a “step back” week at the moment.  The programming has seemed generally easier than what we would usually do, especially today.  The past three weeks of WOD’s have been pretty brutal, and with almost 1/3 of our box competing on Saturday, I think the programming is structured to keep us all active, but not sore.

Makes sense.  But, of course, I want pain.  Otherwise, I have nothing to whine (or wine) about.

That’s what I get for putting my bum in the air

pick up line

I’m pretty sure I got hit on at Globo Gym today.  That, or he was hitting on my hot friend Blondie and I just happened to get lumped into his flirtatious mix.

I’ve been married for 10 years.  Unless they bang me over the head with a club and drag me off to their cave, it’s unlikely I’ll realize when I’m being flirted with until well after the fact unless they’re being pretty darn blatant about it.

So yeah, it’s safe to say, we got hit on.

Blondie and I were getting our lunchtime sweat on and the dude made a comment about how he kept watching us because we had “such great form,” or something like that.

Mind you, half of what we were doing involved being bent over with our bums in the air, so yeah, I’m sure it was our form he was watching.

I’m naturally a pretty confident person so the comment didn’t phase me all that much, but I have to admit for the rest of our workout I was aware of where this dude was, and was more conscious of not making girly grunt noises than usual.

I can’t remember the last time I felt this way working out.  I actually felt self conscious.

When I think back to my fitness routine pre-Crossfit, I honestly don’t think I ever went in the “boys” section of the gym.  I might have used a handful of the weight machines, but usually got my exercise fix with cardio.  When I started Crossfit, I remember having to be shown everything.  Something as simple as how to rack the weights, use the collars, remove the weight plates or even how to carry the barbell were simply things I didn’t know.

The amazing thing is, I learned from the people around me.  Not only that, but not once was I made to feel stupid or made to feel like the dude (or girl) showing me had anything but friendly intentions.

While we may joke and say not so appropriate things to each other now that I know everyone much better, I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever been hit on at Crossfit.

And I love that.

I feel like every day I’m a part of my Crossfit community is a day that I discover something new I love about it.  This is so much more than just exercise, and something as silly as a flirty guy at the regular gym reminds me why I love leaving my “ego at the door and sweat on the floor” every day with people who are in it for the same thing I am… to just be better.

Grapes of Wrath strike again


You know who had the right idea?  George Costanza.

His under the desk nap nook really should have revolutionized the workplace.  I mean, other than the obvious productivity issues, how convenient would it be to have a heavenly safe haven to retreat to and drool in as needed?

Today I am battling the grapes of wrath and the wineo hangover is winning.  I would literally promise to shave my legs every day for a month if I could just get a quick half hour of respite to let the Advil kick in and the cobwebs clear out of my brain.

And yes, I’m typing this at 4 in the afternoon.  For those thinking that it’s a miracle that I even made it to work today when I’m still feeling this bad 7 hours later, you are right.

What can I say?  I’m a miracle child.

Who needs sleep? I have porn.


Insomnia is a real bummer.  As a true insomniac, I understand the frustration of lying awake in bed when you know you should be sleeping and worrying about how tired you will be during the next day.

My solution?  Don’t lay around.  Do something with yourself.  Below is my short and not even remotely comprehensive list of the grand things I accomplish while unable to sleep.

Things to do when insomnia doesn’t care how exhausted you are at 3 a.m.:

 Laundry.  Especially the weird stuff.

You know those rags you use to wash your car?  Or the pillowcases and sheets in the guest bedroom that no one has ever slept in?  Well they need to be washed too, right?  Right.  After two or three nights of insomnia all the normal laundry is probably done, so capitalize on this opportunity to get everything squeaky and fluffy in case great Aunt Irma decides to stop over for a visit.

Read scary zombie books or watch scary zombie movies

Remember that moment when you decided, “no, I won’t read this book/watch this tv show right before bed because I want to be able to sleep tonight?”  This is your subconscious minds way of playing a cruel joke on you.  Punish it by subjecting yourself to the scariest most face eating shit you can find.  It’s not like you’re going to fall back to sleep anyway.

 Scrub the tile floors

You’re always too exhausted to do it after you’ve cleaned the whole house, so it goes a few weeks (or ok, months) between good thorough down on your hands and knees with the bucket of bleach water scrubbing.  Since you have more energy at 3 a.m. than you ever dreamed possible, might as well get it out of the way!

Paint your nails, and toenails… and heck, the dog/cats nails while you’re at it

Waiting for polish to dry is a pain the ass during busy day to day life.  But hey, it’s 3 a.m.!  Outside of your 24 hour Wal-Mart there is literally no other place on earth that you even could be, much less anywhere than you would need to be.  And really, Wal-Mart at 3 a.m. is even scarier than during the day.  Don’t do it.  Trust me.

Watch porn.  And do whatever it is you do while watching porn

I’m not proud.  When all else fails, an orgasm is a kind of sure fire way to get you relaxed enough that there might be hope that you will fall back to sleep.  If that doesn’t work, well, at least you were productive.

A bee stung my boob. But wait there’s more!


You know how they say bad luck comes in threes?  It’s possible that I’m the poster child for this superstition.

And all those people who say, “there’s no such thing as a bad workout” can suck it after my bike ride today.

So here’s the good part.  I didn’t die.  I only almost did.

There was nothing unusual about today.  Riding during lunch, like we always do.  Same peeps I always ride with.  One of two routes we always do.

Five minutes out I flat.  It’s my front tire, so at least it’s an easy change.  We have a slight mishap that results in change one exploding in all of our faces, but we get it right the second time and we’re rolling.

Other than the headwind on the way out, it’s a great ride.  Hot, flat and fast, and before we know it we’re at the turn around ready to head back.

With the wind at our back we’re flying.  I’m riding with two stronger cyclists so they give me some double draft love.  At one point I look down and we’re going 22 mph and it feels easy.  I actually felt the need to double check that someone didn’t shove a rocket up my ass.

Nope, no rocket.  Wind, legs and a great draft.

Then out of nowhere, a rouge missile launches itself down my shirt and I’m greeted with blinding pain on my right tit.  What the… oh, not a missile.  A bee.

Having never been stung before my reaction was two fold.  One, holy f*ckbuckets this hurts like HELL.  Two, I really really hope I’m not allergic.

After swearing like a sailor I let my cyclist friends know what had happened.  Blondie dropped back behind me to make sure I didn’t suddenly pass out and fall off my bike.

Or at least, that’s what we said jokingly.

At this point, I just wanted to be back.  This bugger hurt.  We prepare to make the left turn across 4 lanes of traffic back into our office park.  I’ve done this probably 50 times without incident.  This time there is traffic, but we’re prepared.  We cross two lanes and I prepare to stop in the median.

Now, I’ve posted before about my stopping difficulties.  And heck, my going difficulties for that matter, but my cycling has been much stronger of late.   As long as I really concentrate and focus on what I’m doing, I have no issues.  I’m telling ya, Tour de France is just a bunny hop away.

Ok so not quite.

And when 100% of my focus is on “holy crap dear god why did I have to get stung in the BOOB” it’s pretty clear that my focus is not on stopping.

I unclip left and promptly lean right and find myself toppling over INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC.

Thank goodness the woman in the white sedan was paying attention and managed to stop about a foot from my head.  When I hopped up laughing to move out of the lane and wave her on, I realized by the panicked look on her face and how she was clutching her chest that maybe that had been a nearer death experience than maybe I realized.

Luckily, I’m on one piece.

I’m still a calamity, and will live to terrorize bees and motorists another day.

Mastering the Kama… eh, whatever

Weekly Writing Challenge:  Dialogue

Find the full challenge here: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/16/writing-challenge-dialogue/

Summary: Nothing draws me into a post like an opening scene with dialogue. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing fiction, nonfiction, memoir, or even journalism: Drop me in the middle of the action. Make me a fly on the wall. I guarantee I’ll be instantly engaged, wondering who these people are. Or write as if you’re a character in your own story, and you’ve pulled me along for the adventure.

“Where is my leg supposed to go again?”  I said, balancing precariously on the edge of the mattress.  It was spectacularly difficult to try to appear sexy and graceful while also trying to do what felt like advanced yoga while naked, sweaty, and attempting to keep his penis inside me.

“Um, I think it goes on this side,” he replied, gesturing as he studied the drawing in the book.

I shifted my weight.  The arm that had kept me delicately dangling on the edge of the bed gave out.  He caught me as I collapsed, falling off the edge of the bed into a fit of giggles.  His hand under my head braced my fall and he landed gently on top of me just where he belonged.

“That was a close call,” he whispered, voice husky.  My giggles disappeared and I became suddenly, beautifully aware of how perfect this moment was.

“Not close enough,” I replied.

The conversation ended there, replaced instead with the most beautiful, inarticulate symphony I could ever hope to be a part of.