This One Time I Tried Krav Maga

Krav Maga

Ok, friends, I have a confession to make. I’m not as badass as I thought I was. This confession has been difficult for me to accept but it’s time I hang it out to dry; air it out for all to see.

The manner in which I discovered that my spirit animal is not, in fact, a Great White Shark was a bit crushing. For my ego, at least. A few months ago I saw an ad on Facebook providing a discount at a local Krav Maga studio. I immediately paid $40 (yes, I selected the “Go Big or Go Home” package (that’s what she said) because I knew that this was my calling). I prepared my acceptance speech as I was sure to take home the award for Best Krav Maga Person Ever, packed my bag, and headed out for my first ever class.  Also, I was preeeetty sure they’d ask me to teach my own class by the end of today’s class, which I was fully prepared to do, if the money was right.

A little history: I’ve been athletic in one form or another most of my life. I work out, know my way around a weight room, and, in my mind, can drop any 400-pound potential attacker with my pinky finger. Ok, that last part might be a tiny stretch. I might need my thumb. (That’s what she said.) Anyway, I was confident.

I walked in and signed the attendance list and waiver. The first fifteen minutes or so was “warm-up”. It was pretty intense but nothing I couldn’t handle. In my mind I sarcastically shouted “NEEEEXT!” and looked around the room in a patronizing way much like Lloyd Christmas looked at the undercover agent in the bar before he burped. You know, from Dumb & Dumber? No? Let’s just say I was totes ready for whatever came next.

What came next was partner work. Everyone else in the class knew each other and seemed like they already knew which partner they’d pick. And then there was me. Luckily the instructor shook things up a bit and partnered me with someone. A Ukrainian named Tatiana.   Oh-kaaaay? This was my first indication that this might not be the best fit for me. Tatiana was about 15 pounds heavier than me (pure muscle, like the purest and strongest muscle I’ve ever seen) and the look on her face as she approached me was the same look my elementary school PE teacher gave me when my eight-year-old self explained why I would not be performing my forward roll. For the record, it was the ‘80’s and I spent too much time fluffing my feathered bangs with Aquanet to risk them falling for a “forward roll”.

Anyway, the instructor gave the order for one partner to put on gloves and the other to get the mitt. I got the gloves first. Then she started calling out moves. The punches I nailed with the precision of Caitlyn Jenner’s pee stream after wacking off his peenie. Got it in the bowl but kinda all over the place. “Ok, I can do this. Wait, which one did she just call? Daaam I’m lost. Cross, hook, elbow, elbow, what? Oh, I like that girl’s shirt. I wonder wher- Huh? Dang, time to switch. Wait, how did everyone get their gloves off so fast?? Oh Dear Lord Baby Jesus mine are stuck.”

Then it was Tatiana’s turn for the gloves. “I should get a break. I think I just stand here with the mitt and do nothing… good I can kind of chill out and- OUCH!!!!! Damn! Does she have fists of iron? Why does she hate me?” All things running through my head in the first 5 seconds. Didn’t get much better from there. But I did learn a valuable lesson:

I don’t need an AncestryDNA test to uncover that I don’t have the DNA of a Doberman Pinscher. I have the DNA of a cute, tiny little squirrel. Not even the flying kind. Just a normal, run of the mill squirrel. Isn’t that a devastating blow?!

I haven’t been back. I was so sore after that first class that I couldn’t move for about a week so by the time it wore off and I was able to function again, the excitement wore off. Now I’m just too busy. I have my family, my comedy, my hair needs a good washin’. I got stuff that needs me. I could use that $40 back but that’s ok. We’ll call it even.  In the meantime I’ll stick to running.

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The Best List of Favorite Things EVER!

Every once in awhile products (or just stuffs in general) come along that make me swoon. Whether they’re time savers, money savers, youth savers, or sanity savers, I take notice and shout from the rooftop how much I love them. Well, today my computer is my rooftop and this post is my shout.

#1

Time Saver Sally Hansen Miracle Gel Nail Polish.

Yes, I’m still in love. This little beauty is, for me, both a money saver and a time saver. I hate paying money for something I can do myself. So for around $14 USD I can get a bottle of color and a bottle of the essential top coat instead of spending $20 a pop at the salon. Do I still paint my nails like a 2 year old hopped up on Red Dye #40? Yes. But I just paint before the shower or run a cotton swab dipped in polish remover around the messed up part (AKA my whole hand) and it’s like a pro did it. Bam. Plus, it dries in around 2 minutes in natural light so I have less of a chance of messing it up when my ADD kicks in.

#2

Beauty Saver Beauty Counter Charcoal Mask

Y’all, for real. Getchusum. Send my friend Jennifer an email at hashtagsaferbeauty@gmail.com and she’ll hook you up. This stuff is amaze. In fact, I need to call her, too. I’m out. One of the things I love about all things Beauty Counter is that their reps can tell you every ingredient in their products. They are big on knowing what you put in and on your body and who can argue with that?? It’s a one-stop-shop for skincare AND makeup which is great.  Plus, since everything is a la carte, you won’t end up with another bottle of toner to add to the four you haven’t used yet when all you need is cleanser.

#3

Youth Saver Rodan + Fields Redefine Acute Care strips

These little strips look like they may whiten your teeth but don’t be deceived. They are WAY better than that. Buy a box and you’ll look younger than your toddler in no time. Just peel off the back, stick it on your forehead or crows feet, press it down real good, and let it do the work. After a few weeks you’ll realize that those lines have packed their bags and moved on to that biatch Tiffi down the street. Or her bestie who tried Botox and got her face temporarily paralyzed. Not you. Cuz you called my friend Mitzi (heck, just email her at mymoorhead@gmail.com) and she hooked you up with Acute Care strips. You’re welcome.

#4

Sanity Saver AND Money Saver Chateau Ste. Michelle Riesling purchased from Costco

Now, in a pinch I’ll purchase this bottle from Mars if need be. This wine is my JAM! I always have a least one bottle ready for me in the event of an emergency (please read “emergency” as any time of my life). However, if I can get it from Costco, I spend $9 on a bottle. NINE DOLLARS. My local grocery store is $10 on a good day. One glass at a restaurant is $8 at best. So, for one dollar more than a glass, I can purchase a bottle from Costco. Plus, I love Costco. It’s the only place in the world I can go for spring water and leave with a printer, a set of new tires, a 5 gallon bottle of Champagne, and lobster tails. And enough cookies to feed my kids’ entire school.

#5

All my favorite things rolled into one: Comedian Red Squirrel

Ok, this lady is HER-LARIOUS. Google her name and watch what videos pop up. She’s gaining popularity with her being on tour with Southern Mama Darren Knight and rightfully so. It’s always refreshing to see someone doing well who is genuinely funny and nice. Follow her on Facebook for even more funny stuff. If you have a chance to see her in person, DO IT.

#6

Time Saver and Beauty Saver Dry Shampoo

OMG if I were on a deserted island and could only have one thing with me, I wouldn’t need this because I’d have super sexy beach hair.  But I’m not so I rely very heavily on my dry shampoo so that I can go four days- ok, ok, five days without washing my hair.  It’s the biggest time saver AND I always get hair compliments after I use it.  My fave brands are Bumble & Bumble and Aveda.  Bumble & Bumble has tinted shampoo so I don’t look like I have crack sprinkled in my blackish hair BUT Aveda smells delicious AND non-aerosol so it won’t give me bald spots from the blast.  Ladies, if you are one who HAS to wash your hair everyday, give dry shampoo a try.

Ok, that’s it. That’s all I have right now. Everything listed above is truly my fave. No one paid me to write this. But if they want, that’s cool. I can always use a new shirt that doesn’t have dried baby puke on it from nine years ago.  (Just kidding. Kind of.) If you have any awesome things to add to the list, let me know in the comments!

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Selfie Instructions for Guys

Ever seen someone who looks like something else? Maybe a person looks like a shark or a meerkat or an owl… Well, I recently had one of those encounters. Kind of.

The other day I saw a guy whose head & neck looked like a penis. An uncircumcised penis. Normally I wouldn’t embellish upon something that a person can’t help, but this guy’s hair cut emphasized the similarity so I feel like he’s embracing it. Which means it’s fair game for me. And I haven’t been able to forget it since. He was like a walking dick pic and who would I be if I kept that information to myself???

I feel like I should take this opportunity to share with men how we, women, feel about dick pics. Well, at least how I would feel if I received one. I’ve had too many friends tell me that this is an epidemic for those dating online and I think there needs to be some guidance on the topic. Luckily, I’m happily married and he doesn’t feel the need to remind me what it looks like when we aren’t physically in the same room together. But if he is quietly contemplating it, here’s the deal:

Guys, it’s not a compliment for someone to tell you that you look like a penis. I feel like that needs to be made clear. Boys are always trying to get anyone and everyone to look at their penises! I’ve had the chance to watch how this plays out with Roman and learned that it essentially begins at birth. He’s constantly saying, “Look at my penis!” as he runs butt-ass naked through our living room which, by the way, has 8 floor to ceiling windows. #werethebestneighbors.  I had to resort to telling him that the dog might think it’s a worm and bite it if he doesn’t put underwear on…

Don’t get me wrong: I appreciate a good penis as much as any hetero woman or gay man. But, let’s be honest, they were built for function. Like a furnace. A furnace is essential to the comfort of a home. It should be well built, in the typical furnace shape, placed in an inconspicuous location, and big enough to do the job. But if everything is “normal”, no one needs to know about it before inspection time and it stays behind a closet door in the basement and everyone is happy.

Guys- don’t lead with your furnace!

Let me put it into perspective. Imagine you’re looking for a house. A “forever home”. You go to the real estate app, you put in your requirements. And there it is. The perfect house. You scroll through the pictures. Outside of the house, front porch, furnace… WTF! That’s odd and out of place. Or maybe you see an online listing with just one picture. You love the outside of that house. Below the picture is the number for the listing agent and the promise of more information. You call the number. You have a lovely conversation and arrange a showing. Five minutes later you get a text. It’s the agent! And he’s sent you a picture of the furnace. Uh…

But that’s what you guys do!

Now, if you have an unfortunate micro-penie or it’s shaped like a teardrop, maybe list that in your disclosure. That way, potential buyers know upfront what they’re getting into. If not, we’re good.

Slight tangent alert: is there any type of penis disclosures for people who “court”? Like the Duggars? Cuz if I’ve saved myself for marriage, which I totally did (shut up), and I chose a husband with a teardrop-shaped micropenie, which I discover on my wedding night when it’s too late… I’d be pissed.

I can’t think of any instance when I was dating that I thought to myself “I’m gonna pop my foot up here on the counter and take a pic of my vag and send it to this guy. That’ll hook him for sure.” Because God knew what he was doing when he put lady and man parts where he did. Obviously, it was the 11th hour on the 6th day and he was tired and over this thing so he just clopped some leftover clay together and stuck it on.

I don’t think God intended for us to put our faces down there & stare at it when he settled on the design. Eve said, “Hey, Adam, sorry about that whole tree/snake thing. How can I make it up to you?” And Adam said, “Weeeeeeell….” And God said, “facepalm””. Guys don’t care how weird their penises look. They just like them because they do cool things with it and think that women should be just as intrigued.

But they look like something my kids bring home from art class. Like the clay sculpture of a narwhal my daughter brought home when she was in kindergarten. By the time I saw it the horn was missing, it was kinda wonky, but she yelled, “LOOK! Look at my masterpiece!” She was so proud so I bragged on it. Then she said, “Take a picture!” So I did. And I posted it to Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat cuz it looked like a penis. And everyone hit the “wow” emoji because they were hilariously appalled by it.

You guys are so proud of your penises. “Honey! Come here! Look at my dick! It looks like a narwhal when I flex it! Look! It’s dancing! Take a picture!” Why? Women don’t do that. Women don’t say, “Hey, babe, look! My vag looks like that clam we saw on Nat Geo. Look. And when I flex it looks like it’s trying to close its shell. Look! Take a picture.” No! Women don’t do that! Because, for the most part, we don’t wanna take a picture to commemorate something that isn’t beautiful. And to qualify as beautiful, it almost always involves sparkle either literally or figuratively. Does it sparkle guys? No? Then chances are, it isn’t attractive. Functionality isn’t enough!

It’s why we have the bedazzler- to beautify the functional things in the world. Trucker hats- bedazzle ’em. Blue jeans- more rhinestones please. Our vages… That’s right, guys. It’s called a Vajazzle in honor of the marriage between the bedazzle and the vagina. Like all great unions, Kimye to commemorate Kim & Kanye, TomKat to commemorate Tom Cruise and Katie- never mind. Not a good example. Brangelina to- ok, this isn’t working out the way I meant it to. Anyway, it’s a thing.

For those of you who don’t know, the Vajazzle is another way for us women to pamper ourselves under the guise of doing it for you when you complain about another $50 spent at the salon. If a man manipulates a situation to his benefit, he’s a sociopath. If a woman does it, she’s just good at being a woman. We’re pros at this. We will swear it’s for you. “How DARE you suggest that I WANT to spend $50 to lay on a table for an hour while I get GLUE poured on my lady parts with sparkly rhinestones meticulously placed in gorgeous, intricate designs. How DARE you! I do this for YOU.” No we don’t. This is totally for us. Because guys don’t understand the beauty that is the sparkle.

Is $50 too much to spend to put some party in our pants? Absolutely. Will that stop us? No. You had us at “-azzle”. Women love to sparkle. Then we come home, go to the bathroom to check out the results and yell, “Honey! Come here! Look at my vag, it sparkles! Look! If I flex, look! It looks like a disco ball! Take a picture.”

Just kidding. That never happens.

 

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