Archive | December, 2012

An Engaged Girl’s View On Guidos

30 Dec

I dont go out much. That really shouldn’t surprise anyone. But even with my little interaction without the outside world, I still have managed to pick up informal, yet important knowledge regarding the strange, yet fascinating species of “guidos.” Last night, I was excited to impart my experience and observations to my friends as we ventured out to a suburban dance hall.

Now, I feel that it is time to make my findings public.

1. The first, most common question I get is “What is a Guido?” Guido, a name common in Italy, has become a derogatory slang term for a man (and sometimes a woman) who dresses and acts as a sleazy, corny, overcompensating snake charmer with two goals: be alpha and score the ladies. His caveman like behaviors leads to him attracting fleeting attention using perfumes, hair gel, tight clothing, and flashing of money.

However, these men, as noted, are mostly overcompensating for a lack of… well, fill in the blank. Not necessarily member size. Height is a common issue for males. Using more attention seeking items make them, perceivably, “stand out” amongst the pack.

2. “How do I spot a guido?” First, where are you? Is there alcohol or a large gathering of intoxicated females? Bars, night clubs, parties, and airport lounges all provide the alcohol, flattering dark (or disco) light, and ample prey to unleash on. On a more rare occasion, this species of male can frequent gyms (scantily clad women on workout endorphins and areas to show off “guns”) or car show (display of misplaced wealth). Those that keep the guido lifestyle 24/7 are referred as “day walkers” and are the more rarer of species considering daylight is typically unflattering to their fashion choices.

3. Speaking of which, what do guidos wear? Easy. Is it tight? Is it patterned in a flashy way (double points for men wearing sequence or blinged crosses)? Does his shoes lack laces or are equally shiny or shimmery as his attire? Can you smell his “musk” from over 100 yards away? If he resembles any cast member of The Jersey Shore, Surreal Life, Celebrity Rehab, or any documentary on gypsies, he most likely is a guido.

4. Subspecies:
a. The Suited Guido- See Barney of How I Met Your Mother. Just as the name suggests, this man prefers to intimidate his competitors through a somewhat questionable, fashionable show of wealth. Dont be fooled. The suit is often ornate, low in quality, and used to hide a more slender physique.

b. The Tattoo’d Guido- The more preferable of the species. These “bad boys” at least have the decency to decorate their arms with tribal tattoos to distract their mates.

c. The Taken Guido- Once in a somewhat serious relationship, these guidos are in constant contact with their female partner. This shows skill, determination, and persistence on the part of the courted man. However, it also means an inability to dial down the sleazy sexuality which is heightened to show off dominance to prowling guidos.

d. The Hipster Guido- A rare find outside of the city, this man mixes suits and tight pants with large frame glasses and replaces shots with PBR. However, the objective, immense amount of manufactured musk, and hair gel remains the same.

e. The Over 40 Guido (Taken or Single)- Overcompensating for age and seeking to prowl on club going females, this elder guido does not make up in smarts for what he has in age. Depending on if he still lives at home, his clothing is most likely 10 years behind, featuring more tibal patterns, and prefers zimas. Taken Over 40s usually are under the influence of a wife or girlfriend who frequents seedy bars or nightclubs.

f. The Savable Guido- An occasional or rare show of guido tendencies, this man mistakenly experiments in guido lifestyles in hopes of scoring more females in a shorter amount of time. Most abandon his attempts after realizing that the guido relationship is fleeting and results in mass amounts of domestic violence or jagger shots.

Obviously there are more subspecies, but what should be emphasized is that guidos come in all shapes, sizes, creeds, and colors. Just because a man is not of Eastern European descent does not mean he is or isn’t a guido. Given the popularity of men like “The Situation” and our admiration of extravagant, gaudy lifestyles, the guido culture has boomed in the last 5 years making it impossible to frequent a bar without running into at least one subspecies.

What can you do? Well, if you are male, you can stop. Analyze your life and fashion choices and seek validation from other, more respectible sports. For women, be safe at bars. Inform your friends if you are willing to date a savable subspecies in advance. This will limit your contact with undesirables. If not willing to deal with any guido, watch your alcohol intake as to not fall prey to a man with the ability to afford multiple shots in tubes.

The only way we can fight this infestation of guido lifestyles is to encourage positive dating role models. Encouraging the dress or culture only pushes the savable man in to guido world further and limits a single woman’s choices.

Thank you for your time.


Guess What I Got…

29 Dec

Let me stop my regular posts to geek out over our my ipad mini keyboard. Still getting used to the key placement and the tiny keys, but it’s a big step up from trying to post on the regular screen keyboard.

I’m also experimenting with the WordPress app. Let’s see how this goes!

And since you read through my random and lame geek fest of apple product testing… Vanna and I will reward you with some cuteness!




All I Got For Christmas Is an IPad Mini and the Stomach Flu

27 Dec

I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that three days of over eating and indulgence can now be found on the curb five minutes from my apartment complex.

I really overate.

That’s an understatement.


I’m not really what I would consider to be an emotional eater, but there is something about the stress of my grandma’s house (which can be likened to a zoo on acid) and the large platters of assorted chocolates that sends my good intentions of healthy eating out the door. Loud noise = EAT! Everyone mentioning the wedding = EAT! Everyone not mentioning the wedding = EAT! Children running = EAT! Grandma crying = EAT!

It would be a pretty fantastic bingo drinking game, but luckily that is the one indulgence that I do not partake in (much).

So, after consuming a super unhealthy and alarming amount of cinnamon rolls in a two day span, I left my Christmas’d stomach on the side of a road. And unfortunately, all the innocent commuters, small children, a pit bull, and my future brother-in-law were there to witness it. At least everyone can now believe me when I say we left Brendan’s family’s Christmas party early for good reasons.

When anyone asks what I got for Christmas, I’m just going to tell them I got my nifty Ipad mini and a stomach bug. It pretty much sums up the last couple of days.

Oh, and I got this super sweet Iphone cover:


Now Ron Swanson can remind me of how horrible I am for owning and depending upon so many Apple products.

I am digging the Ipad though. All be honest and say that it is just a slightly larger Iphone. But who wants to read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows on their Iphone? I’m hoping the Ipad will tap in to my creative, design side or at least let me be a bit more artistic. I even ordered a bluetooth keyboard for it so I could start blogging on it.

(I have a real computer… but it was broken in some tragic accident involving booze and a drying rack.)

In other, non-Christmas and Tech related news, I actually ran this weekend! I accidentally misread the times of the morning boot camp time, so I had to supplement it with this Cardio Hour class. I had no idea what it was going in to it, so I was alarmed to find out that it was circuits on the treadmill, elliptical, and stationary bike. LOTS of running at 10 minute mile speed on 7.0-10.0 inclines. I’m going to be honest and say that I didn’t do so hot, but I burned about 550 calories in that hour. Maybe I’ll go back… next time I’ll wear my compression sock.


Candy Canes and Creepy Veggies

17 Dec


Isn’t it funny when you’re sick for a very long time and then you wake up and you feel about 90% better? That was my Thursday. After struggling through a workout on Tuesday morning and writing my complaining post about how much I suck at life, I got worse. And then I got better instantly! Not-Really-Christmas-Day-Miracle!

Saturday was my last doctor’s bronchitis related appointment, and my fantastic holistic, witch doctor spent a good half hour going over my general health since she didn’t want to waste her time checking me for the incredibly shrinking bronchitis. I was thrilled when she told me that my blood test shows that my cholesterol is low, my blood pressure is pretty much perfect, and my thyroid is right on track for my age group. Besides my weight, she would say that my body is functioning as a 25 year old should. Right on, man. 

Dont get me wrong, I am still going to hit it hard at the gym this week. I burnt about 400 calories this morning with core and kickboxing. And tomorrow, I am going to change it up and skip my kettlebell class and do boot camp instead.

But my most dramatic change is going to be my meal plan. After speaking to a friend at a party about her use of my old favorite, Sparkpeople’s, meal plans, I thought to myself “Well, she’s doing great… why cant you get back on that wagon?” To be honest, I was never big on following other website’s meal plans. I hate too many foods. Veggies creep me out. And everything takes soooo long to cook.

Luckily, I’ve grown up over the last two or three years. Dating a vegan means I occasionally have to suck it up and eat some broccoli. And I genuinely love to cook or bake. I’ve gotten good at freezing meals and eating them later. Oh, and I am the queen of the mug of scrambled egg whites! Sparkpeople’s plan looks pretty easy to follow. I just modified it so that I had the same breakfast and lunch every day (applesauce muffins with salami roll-ups). And then I picked dinners that didn’t sound too painful to produce or digest.

I just wish that my shopping list wasn’t a million miles long. (But then again, I’m not paying for it… champagne for all!)

My biggest enemy will be three fold: 1.) My grandma’s house. 2.) My grandma’s house 3.) My grandma’s house. Oh, and honorable mention to this:


This little jar of die-a-beet-us fun is staring me down 37.5 hours a week at work. I’m only eating candy canes out of it this week. I promise. I’ll be good!

First Workout After Illness

11 Dec

Oh lord. Could there be anything more torturous than taking a week off of working out to recovery from an illness? Yes, yes there is. There is making yourself workout at 6am while still actually recovering from being sick.

I’m not smart (sometimes).

All weekend, I told myself that I would try out yoga. I’ve been feeling better since I finished off my 5 day Z-Pack and my body was physically feeling ok… why not? Before Sunday’s class, I had a major coughing fit. So, stayed home Sunday. And then yesterday, I had to stay at work late to finish a project that I couldn’t do at home on my sick days… so no yoga again. Color me sad.

But then I had the brilliant idea that I would just go to the gym at my regular time on Tuesday morning and play it by ear.

Again, I’m not smart.

So I peel myself out of bed at 5am, get in my workout gear that has been lying on my couch for the last week, and drive my cold ass to the gym. All the while, I am coughing and wheezing like I did early last week. I kept telling myself “You felt better yesterday! You’ll be fine!” But as soon as I walk in, I knew it wasn’t all good. I needed my inhaler just from the short, one block walk. And I even needed to eventually pop a pain med because my chest felt like it had sucked down sub-Arctic wind on a long run. Oh, and the taste of blood in my mood is always a good sign (note: It’s not).

So, I get on the treadmill. Of course, I pick the one next to the 8 month pregnant girl running at 9 minute mile (no joke, this woman is a beast). My self-esteem takes a complete dive off a cliff as my body struggles through a pre-set hill walk at a pretty slow pace. I can only do that for a half hour before I am spent and holding on to the handles for dear life.

Of course, just as I get off and move to the incumbent bike, the instructor for my kettlebell class spots me and asks if I was planning on going. The class looks empty and I always have empathy for fitness instructors when their classes get canceled, so I say that I will try to save her the cancellation. (Of course, as soon I put down my towel and grab my weights, 4 other people join the class…). She has us grab a light pair of kettlebells (about 4lbs each) and a medium set (about 17lbs).

I start off by reassuring myself that I can just use the 4lbers today. I have a good excuse. No one will care or even notice that I am essentially whimping out. Then I see the girl next to me who is about 90lbs, full of awesome tattoos, and wearing the face of a mad-tiger-woman. I am both humbled and in awe of this kind of woman. She could give marathon running, pregnant lady a run for her money. I feel the need to impress her, and with that, my reassurance goes out the window.

I stupidly do the warm up swings with the 17lb weight. My heart rate is jumping and I wheeze a bit, stop to cough, but keep going. Next are squats with an arm lift. Again, I pick up the 17lbs. No biggie. Except that my inhaler and pain meds make me dizzy so I am struggling to not loose my cookies. But of course, the worst are the lunges with both small weights. I can barely make myself stand up straight before I have to hold on to the wall. I look like a fool. Even more so when I can barely lift my arm (which is now breaking out in the red splotches I got the morning I came down with the bronchitis)… And then there are push-ups. At this point, I might as well just lay on the floor.

And that’s only one round.

My pride broken and feeling totally embarrassed, my instructor makes it worse by asking me what’s wrong as I breathlessly explain to her in between wheezes that I am getting over bronchitis (BUT I’M NOT CONTAGIOUS), and that I am trying not to push myself. I take a third (fourth?) blow to my ego when she takes away my 17lbers so I am forced to only use the 4lbs. As soon as I get through the third round, I am out of there… leaving a trail of coughs and wheezes. I some how managed to make it through the class.

Worst half hour of my life.

I told myself that if I could make it through, I could go to my more traditional, but harder, weight lifting classes tomorrow morning. But now, I’m not so sure. I’m actually feeling worse today than yesterday, and I am even canceling on a concert that I had planned on going for the last two months. Bronchitis, you win.

How do you recover from long term illness? Do you get back on that treadmill, or do you force yourself to ease back in to it?

So, Bronchitis, eh?

9 Dec

Oh dear. I seem to have dropped off the face of the blogging planet- conveniently right as I was getting motivated.

Let me promise you that I am still here and I do think of the blog frequently. But, unfortunately  I suddenly came down with a pretty nasty bout of bronchitis. It hit pretty suddenly. One minute, I was eating these delicious chick pea fritters (recipe below) and washing my gym clothes in my bathroom sink, and then next minute I was laying on the couch struggling to breath and talk.

I had suspected earlier in the day that I was getting sick. Besides feeling “off” at work, earlier in the morning I was in the middle of my kickboxing class when my left arm began to swell and I broke out in these red, itchy splotches. I was coughing a bit, but nothing unusual since I have seasonal and weather related allergies (and if you are in Chicago, you know that the weather went from 50s and rainy to 70s and sunny to 40s and dreary in the span of three days).

Moral of the story: Read the signs and take them seriously. You really dont want to end up like me. Besides the two doctor’s appointments and a 5 hour trip to the ER by myself, I have literally spent the last 6 days laying on my couch, watching LOST on Netflix, and reading Harry Potter. 4 days without going to work has really messed with my mind.

On the good side of it all, I have managed to go to two interviews. One was a final for a job I would LOVE and could see myself making a career out of it. The other, well, it wasn’t really an interview. I basically walked in, the guy talked to me about the organization (which I actually work for currently), and then sent me on my way. No questions about my qualifications or resume. Nothing. I was quickly sent a follow up rejection letter. Even though I was pissed about the non-interview, I was pretty damn disappointed that I was moved on to the second round. Either way, I thought I did alright at the other interview. So, there’s that. I wont know till around the holidays for that unfortunately.

And obviously, I haven’t worked out at all. With bronchitis, I feel like I cant catch my breath and my lungs are burning. I had planned on trying yoga this morning, but as I was getting ready to go, I had a pretty bad coughing spell. I will try tomorrow night.

(Dont get me talking about my eating. While I may be sick, I do have the energy to cook horrible foods like french toast, pasta, and even cupcakes.)

I’ll be back soon enough. Hopefully with the yoga and my heart rate monitor post that I’ve been sitting on. In the meantime, enjoy this chickpea fritter recipe I found on I made these healthier by forgoing tzaztiki sauce (we dipped them in tomato sauce), leaving out the coriander, substituting tahini with natural peanut butter.  Vegan fiance gave it a thumbs up. I coughed them up.