Bummed-outness: we’ll pretend it’s a word

Last week I was feeling a bit melancholy.

God that’s a dramatic word: melancholy. (Place back of hand on forehead) “I’m so melancholy”.

I just really wanted to use that word from my sixth grade vocab test.

Thanks Mrs. Kardin.

I’m lying. I don’t remember my sixth grade teachers name. I made that part up.

But real talk: I was a bit bummed and slow motion last week. Usually what fixes this problem is a jog around the reservoir.

This isn’t always the wisest decision.
Back in July I was having one hell of a rough day, so I decided to go jog at 1:00pm

1:00pm in the middle of July.

July at 1:00 fucking pm!

I can’t even feel bad for myself because this was just an all around dumb idea.

It was 90 degrees with direct sunlight beaming on me (and I swear only me) no shade in sight with my pride quickly dwindling.

A mile into the jog I was hating life but had to trek on. I couldn’t let complete strangers (wisely walking the reservoir at 1:00pm in the middle if July) know I was sucking.

Nearly a mile and a half into it I saw a bench and decided to do abs. I wanted the complete strangers around me to think this was all part of my plan when in reality I was about to die.

Talk about a melancholy moment.

Before mile two came around I wound up walking. I went to the grass to look like I was stretching but instead cried because I couldn’t release my sadness during the jog. In fact, the jog only made me more sad.

Ugh, I’m such a girl sometimes.

That was the last time I jogged the reservoir.

So this past Sunday around 1:00pm (you think I would learn my lesson) I got my dreadful yoga pants on and SF Giants hat and went back to the reservoir.

I wasn’t sure if I was even going to be able to jog. Sure I’ve been working out, but 30 minute gym sessions isn’t exactly prepping for a three-mile, hilly cardio session.

I got to the reservoir and my VW told me it was only 76 degrees out.

Already a better start.

I put on my “Reminds me of Summer 2014” playlist and started the jog.

With the cooler weather, a solid playlist, and my bummed-outness (I feel like sadness is too dramatic of a word for what I was feeling last week) motivating me, I managed to do the full three miles. In fact, by mile three, I figured why not do four.

I did four miles without expecting to complete one! And I did it all right under 40 minutes. Usually I keep a much slower pace if I haven’t ran outside for awhile. I don’t even want to discuss how slow my pace usually is, but we’ll just say it’s comparable to a pleasant trot.

In the end, the four miles outside during a transitioning season with Public Enemy playing in my ear, I found it incredibly hard to be sad (oops: Bummed-out) for the rest of the day.

Sometimes a little unpleasant emotion can spark something wonderful inside.

There’s always a bright side 🙂

Below I posted a pic of the four songs that remind me of Summer 2014. You don’t have to listen to them, just know they mean something to me.

And take that as an invitation to share your playlist with me.

‘Til next time friends!

The Bridesmaids Dress

A couple of weeks ago an absolutely amazing couple got married and I was privileged enough to stand by the bride’s side during the beautiful ceremony.

This is just a sexed up way to say I was a bridesmaid.

I had ordered the bridesmaids dress in June. It was a very snug fit when I bought it, so naturally when I picked it up a month later I avoided trying it on again.

Deep down I knew the truth.

Weeks went by and the unused dress hung alone in my closet protected by the plastic it was delivered in.

Weeks went on and in the back of my head I kept reminding myself “you know you have to face the truth”.

Finally on one Thursday night at 11:00pm (because that’s a great time to get shit done apparently) I unwrapped the virginal bridesmaids dress, slipped it over my thighs, up to my chest and zipped it halfway.

There was ruching at the waistline (it’s where the fabric is kind of bunched. Being around girls trying on dresses, you learn useless terms like this) so I figured that’s why I couldn’t zip it up.

I asked my roommate (my younger sister) to try and zip it up.

“It’s not zipping Rik”.

Shit.

So I go to my other roommate (my younger brother) and ask him to zip it up.

“Umm Rik, it’s not going up”.

Fuck!!!!!

This is the moment shear panic arises. Here I had months to try on the now tainted dress and I waited just a few weeks prior to the wedding at 11pm at night when everything is closed to try on this god forsaken, condemned dress!

And yes I am fully aware that is a run on sentence, but I figured it was necessary to portray the panic I was in at the time.

Panic wasn’t the only thing I was experiencing; then there was shame because I had gained enough weight for the dress to not fit around my fucking ribcage. Who gains weight around their ribcage and not in their boobs?

Thanks genetics.

I had thought these things only happened in sitcoms.

So I had to face the music and called in for a larger size. Still bummed I had gained a few pounds, I decided I had to work on my back since the dress was a strapless and I wanted to look my best despite the few extra pounds I had gained.

So I started going to the gym and did rows, assisted pull-ups, and a few triceps because tri’s are sexy.

By the time the wedding came around, I tried on my new sized dress and zipped it up.

It fit perfectly!

But then I looked at my shoulders and back and instantly was self-conscious because I looked buff and less feminine in the dress.

What the fuck is wrong with girl brain?!

Really? I’m self-conscious because I’m too buff?

Moral of the story – there’s no winning in the weight category! Love your body no matter what!

That and no one likes how they look in a bridesmaids dress. So get drunk to not care and dance your little ass off! Because if you’re a bridesmaid, chances are someone you absolutely love gave you the privilege of making you part of their special day and that’s really all it’s about.

Til next time friends!