#if an extended weekend included feeling miserable for a few days and drinking so much water just literally so much

[i-like-gay-books]

been stuck in my apartment with covid for a few days and its starting to feel like im in an alternate dimension

[gillianwormley]

More than skin deep

Actually, it's been another good well-being week. I’ve been really drilling down on food, refining natural supplements, cooking more, choosing to buy organic products when I can, and further reducing the use of plastic in the house. Good digestion and gut health have a direct link to my happy skin, and with focus, it is gradually improving. I soothe my working environment by diffusing essential oils...and I have some rescue and renew bath crystals for a relaxing soak in a candlelit bathroom. Thanks, Sophie, for that tip....

To explain, Wellbeing - always accepted as important of course - has become more than a supportive focus for me, because of an ongoing issue I have with my skin. I could just attribute stress to the cause of the problem. Whilst I readily acknowledge that I tend to be a bit of a sensitive soul, with allergies of various types showing up through my adult life, this latest chapter has at times made me so miserable. I am very visible as a teacher and singer and need to feel confident. Rather than fall victim, I chose to educate myself and look at things through a different lens, take action - choose a different path.

At the beginning of February, I partnered up with an excellent brand, and began incorporating safe, pure and beneficial nutrition products into my life AND my Little Soprano & The Voice School business. My particular focus, of course, taking care of my skin from the inside out, supporting a great gut microbiome and efficient collagen production - think of it as the glue that sticks us together - pretty vital as we age. And for us singers, that ‘wellness’ extends to the vital elasticity of our precious vocal folds.

The past few weeks have been so full of making necessary changes because of COVID-19. I mean, weeks are always busy doing business online - no change there. Mixed in with family and 1:1 teaching responsibilities, Virtually Vocalise mentoring and event reconstruction/reconfiguring for postponed workshop weekends at Dartington Hall and The Ashcroft Arts, I make sure to include well-being at the core of all I do. Making milk and water kefir, bread, cooking up nutritious alkaline soups and easy-on-the-digestive-system meals, plus taking in nature and my lovely garden, whenever I can. 

In conversation with a singer student and long-time friend who needs plenty of support and encouragement in his own self-care department, I recently shared a brief account of my well-being day with him, and part of it went something like this:

I began with Digestion Plus.  It's something you take first thing in the morning in any cold liquid to begin the day by supporting optimal digestive health. Full of good things.

Now making my morning shake... With which I take with my multi-vitamin and zinc supplements. It's a start to the day. It doesn't sustain me much more than midmorning though. Sometimes I have a piece of toast to follow ...and, I have butter, because it is a medium-chain fatty acid, which we need for healthy joints and our bodies metabolise it well. Coconut oil is the same.

Sometimes thirst will make us feel as though we are hungry. I choose coconut water because of its nutrients and electrolyte properties. And also, I have prepared my skin elixir drink to sip later, which will support my skin recovery plus enhanced collagen production protects connective tissue....like vocal folds! All good.

Just about to go and make lunch... 

And so the day went. As does every day since, with more and more focus and appreciation to take the time to invest in my total well-being, from the inside out, especially now we are faced with the mental challenge of lockdown and overall uncertainty.

Now for some Tai Chi ... It’s new to me. But - learning a new discipline is a good thing.

[sundaymorning1465-blog]

One Man’s FLR

I've decided to give erotica writing a try.  I have not had it edited so there are grammatical and punctuation errors I've no doubt.

This is a fictional (sorry to say) story about how my female led marriage came to be.  While there is some sex it does not contain a great deal of it, so if just sex is what you're looking for the first few parts, (I'm guessing), of this story will not suit you.

Part 1

I didn't really mean to be the submissive one in my marriage, it just kind of happened that way over time.  We are now in our 40s, I'm 45, she is one year younger at 44 and we have been married for 20 years.  The kids are now in their late teens and do not need much from us other than some spending money during the school year when they don't have part time jobs and as of just last year they both drive and share what is now our third car.  My wife and I both have well-paying jobs, we work our 40 hours, give or take, five days a week and for the most part have our weekends off.  All in all we are a pretty routine family, we attend all of the extracurricular activities of the kids, I wash our cars in the driveway and keep our house and lawn in good repair.  To look at us or our surroundings or to interact with us one would never know that we are in a full time female lead marriage and have been since about the third year of our marriage.  This story is how we got there, even though neither of us had any intention of ever being in one.  Neither of us are stunners in the looks and body department but that is not to say we are unappealing to the eye, of the two of us I am the one that has slipped the farthest, but we could both lose a few pounds get maybe a spot here or there tucked, hoisted and/or tightened up a bit, but by and large, we are in good health, exercise regularly and are quite happy with our bodies.  

Where this marriage takes a step outside of the norm is that I, the husband, do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry and ironing.  I do the grocery shopping, I am on a strict allowance, I do not volunteer my opinion and I unquestionably do what my wife tells me to.  And, oh yeah, I nearly forgot, I wear panties ninety-nine percent of the time, get spanked both for punishment as well as for my wife's pleasure and I am only allowed one or two orgasms per year.  Our first child came into existence in year number two of our marriage and by the time young gun number two was born my dominant role in the house had been usurped by my wife and over the course of the next few years our marriage fully evolved into what it is now.

I own a medical testing company in which I am a vital and full time employee of and my wife is a CPA.  To keep a sharp mind and the ability to be on her numerical toes if you will, my wife needs 7-8 hours of sleep at night, I on the other hand require, and always have required, much less sleep to function at the top of my game.  I dwarf my wife in worldliness and she and I both suspect straight up IQ as well.  I don't sit well, that is to say I like to be active, up and doing things which I am sure led somewhat to my downfall as the head of household, more on that later.  And with my wife having always handled our finances, why wouldn't she we had both thought, after all she is a CPA.  As it turns out it was natural that I do a majority of the chores, with my needing to be busy, and we all know the person that controls the money does tend to have the upper hand.  

By the time my wife's job is done for the day and depending on the season, tax season versus non tax season, she enjoys reading and watching tv once she arrives home.  During tax season, about a month long, she pulls exhausting hours and has been known to work late, be it at an office or home, eat and immediately go to bed once she completes whatever her current task is at the time.  During tax season we are hermits, we go nowhere, otherwise we are quite socially active.  We host multiple small gatherings and one major summer and winter party.  We both drink, me more than her, we have a partial season package to our local professional baseball team and we work out with a professional trainer 1 hour roughly every other day.  We eat out a little more than we should and we don't eat as healthy as we should.

There you have it, welcome to our very visible and "normal" life.

As "for the rest of the story" as a famous radio voice use to say when I was just a kid, it started about a month into our first child being born.  My wife did not breast feed, which she felt miserable about.  Do not worry if your a guy and reading this, it's some more of the shallowness of females as a gender that most guys can't understand.  Being devastated by not getting up in the middle of the night just to have some urchin gnawing on one or both of your nipples ranks right up there with hating your ass or legs or whatever while everyone else is telling you how fantastic you look, it is, in a word, baffling.  To get back to the story, the fact that she pumped milk from her gorgeous boobs for our child coupled with my not needing as much sleep as she does resulted in me doing the night time feedings.  Our daughter was born in the middle of January and by the time the six weeks of maternity leave was over it was the start of tax season.  With my wives exhausting tax season hours I started picking our daughter up at the daycare and doing most of the evening child care.  No big deal, that's what married people and parents do, they cover for each other, it all comes out in the wash in the end.  I naturally started cooking too, I wanted my wife to have some dinner to come home to and of course I also needed to eat.  In my wives excitement of getting back to work she had volunteered for a few extra duties which now were causing her to work the weekends as well.  It was somewhere in the mix of her not spending the time she felt she should be spending with our daughter, her increased time being at work and subsequently not being at home that I sensed a change in her.  Her seriousness and lack of patience had increased and had replaced her whimsical and ability to relax side it seemed to me.  My heart went out to her, I knew she was feeling awful, was being over worked and I sensed that these new jobs that she had added to her already overworked self was going to extend her busy season by a significant amount of months.  So I figured that I needed to increase my support to help her get through this period the best I could, and that is what I did, and between you and I, I was damn happy to do it.  After all, this is a woman that I love with all my heart and I'll be damned if I'm going to stand idly by and watch a bunch of numbers kick her ass.

Our daughter was generally in bed, and for the most part sleeping through the night, by the time my wife got home.  I had initially been texting my wife to ask her if she had any preferences for dinner which had morphed into her just automatically texting me about noon with what she wanted to eat for dinner and about what time she expected to be home.  With our daughter in bed when my wife arrived home it was becoming customary for her to give me a peck on the cheek as I was putting on the last touches of her dinner, generally something light, like a salad of tuna or fruit, you get the picture, and going upstairs to change into some comfy clothes and peek in on our daughter and deliver another kiss to another cheek before returning to the breakfast nook which we have always used for casual meals rather than the formal dining room. There she would join me and she would eat her dinner and have a glass of wine while I sat and we chatted and I drank a beer.  

It was becoming apparent that over the last few weeks with her increased stress and work and our having to put exercise class on hold that I had put on a few pounds while she had actually lost a few pounds, probably due to stress.  While I had noted it, but chose to ignore it, I was thinking this part of our life would be over in another few months and we would get back to normal.  One night as we sat at the table after dinner, basking in our beverages of choice, in this case, still on her first and only glass of wine and me just starting my third beer she asked what I had eaten for dinner.  Sensing no reason to pussyfoot around I told her a frozen pizza, but much to my delight I assured her I had cooked it first.  Apparently, she didn't see the humor and asked what I had had the night before.  Now my sense of danger twitched ever so slightly as I told her a frozen southern fried chicken dinner, this time leaving out the part about cooking it first.  After a rather lengthy pause where my danger Will Robinson mode kicked fully into gear she said "you're going to have to start eating better, you're getting fatter, how many beers are you drinking every evening"?

I remember hemming and hawing, making like I was thinking about it when she interrupted my show of calculating with "about six, 1-2 with me and 4-5 before I get home and that is too many".  She was right of course, as she initiated another of what had become our after dinner conversation customs by pushing herself back from the table and putting her slippered feet into my lap where I could begin giving her her nightly foot massage.  

I was going about giving her my best foot massage to date, hoping to get her mind off of my failings, but that was not to be, as she continued unabated.  Reminding me that she does our finances which is how she could tell that I was spending a lot on myself. She knew what she was eating and what our daughters food bill was and therefore putting two and two together was in a word elementary.  

"I've also noted the house is not getting the type of cleaning it needs" and "if I separate the clothes for you can you put in a load of clothes for me tomorrow after you get home from work" and "I will put together a list this weekend of groceries and meals and relax, beer will be included, but it really needs to be one beer before I get home and one with me while I eat".  She was right of course, I needed to step up my game a bit, it's what any responsible husband and father would do.

Ending her foot massage, she said "I am going to go separate the clothes and take a quick shower before getting into bed and I think I need some more relaxation exercising tonight, I'm a little upset with the status quo of our household.  You lock up and pack my lunch for tomorrow".  I was instantly excited by that, relaxation exercising was code for sex, it had been forever it seemed since we had indulged.  But to be fair, sex always decreased this time of year and I was use to jacking off.  However with pregnancy, the birth, the recovery the current dry spell (pun intended) it had been at least a month.  Unfortunately with the uninterrupted home time I had over the last few weeks and the increase in beer consumption my porn viewing and my masturbation had both increased.  As a matter of fact I had jacked off my second load of the day right after putting Maggie down in her crib.  But as I've already said, I love my wife's body and I was sure I could muster enough hardness to enter her and who knows maybe last a little longer.  Our sex life is maybe a little different than other couples.  Ours generally consists of me eating her pussy until she has an orgasm and then I enter her and pound away for a minute before cumming inside her.  She has for the most part decided sex night, which is only natural as it takes more emotions for her to get going than it does me and on her nights she always has a hand towel under her pillow that after I cum inside her she can use the towel to clean herself up.  

House locked up and lunch packed and in the refrigerator I head upstairs to brush my teeth before joining her in bed.  She is under the sheet on her back with her booked propped on her tummy.  The clothes in neat piles against the wall as I guess which pile to add each article of clothing I take off before crawling under the covers.  Once my head disappears under the covers I hear her put her book down and I start my very methodical pussy eating.  I start with the insides of her thighs, kissing, nibbling each and as I go from one to the other I lightly brush and breath/blow on her pussy.  Then I move to circling my tongue and nibbling on the inside of her pussy lips alternating with light flick on her clit with my tongue.  Over the course of the next 20 minutes I brought her to three orgasms, each more powerful than the last.  Now it was our turn to cum together as I started up her body it was then I noticed my dick was not hard enough to enter her and my hesitation brought her attention to the situation and she looked at me expectantly. Her eyes then dropped to my dick where she could clearly see that it was soft. Then painfully slowly she brought her eyes back up to meet mine, I was on an island with no place to go as she stared at me.

Somewhat alarmed she asked "why are you soft?  Are you ill?  Do you feel ok"?  

"Well I am probably just a little on the tired side, I'm sure that's it".

"Well those were such wonderful orgasms I had why don't you lay back and let me take care of you".

Now we are talking I say to myself, I can't recall the last time she put my dick in her mouth.  I was in position so fast I nearly got dizzy flipping onto my back.  Let me tell you, it felt like heaven, warm, moist, oh my it was not long before I was hard and starting to bubble up a load of cum for her to suck down.  Just then she took her mouth off but continued the hand action so I was ok, she had never let me cum in her mouth, I just got carried away in my head.  I can feel it back to being ready to explode and a second later I start grunting and cumming. I finally calm down in a couple seconds as she comes up and lays next to me after cleaning up my load with her ever handy after sex hand towel.

"James, are you having an affair"?

"What!!!  Jen, my god no, why would you even ask such a thing"?

"If no affair, which I believe you by the way, then you masturbated today".

She is guessing, and with as innocent a look as I could muster, I asked "what makes you say that"?

"Well, we have had sex once or twice a week over the years and I have cleaned up a lot of your cum over those years and I know for a fact that it has been at least a month since we have had sex like in the days prior to Maggie and as a result you should have been loaded but I got barely a tablespoon of cum out of you.  And let's not forget, while you're fairly average to small in the cock department it has always been like steel after you eat me and today you were soft.  Suspicious, no?"

I was, in a word, speechless.  And I immediately knew she knew I had jacked off.

There was no sense in lying, "well....kinda....yes....I guess".

She sits up in bed and looks down at me, I can see her perfect, for me, breasts under what I know is her nighty with no undies on.

"James, how does one guess they kinda masturbated"?

I was caught and I felt awful, there was no defense so I just hung my head and muttered "I'm sorry".

"Sorry?  That is all you've got?  Do you know what it feels as a woman and/or a wife to think that your body is no longer exciting enough for a man or more importantly your husband to get hard too?  I mean, if you where in your mid 50's or 60's, on a medication or had a medical reason I would understand but none of that applies to you. None of those apply to you do they James?"

"Well.....not really" I respond.

"What do you mean not really, as she does the universal quote marks with her hand, are you saying one of those does apply, are you sick, are you on a medication? Why didn't you tell me? What's wrong"?

I struggle to sit up next to her so I can be face to face with her.  "Nothing is wrong Jen I was just horny, we have not had any sex in a month, how was I suppose to know that today we were going to have sex".

She nods.....I assumed in agreement.............I was wrong.

"I see, so if we were having sex once or twice a week then does that mean you masturbate once or twice a week now"?

"Maybe more" after a slight pause.

"Maybe more, how much is a maybe?  And James I'm going to caution you here, I work with numbers and I know there is no number assigned to a maybe", once again with the hand quotes.

"Ok, maybe is a couple".

"James, that is what I said".

"A day".

It took her a second, I assumed to envision the process and the amount.  "Did you say a day? Is that possible? Do you cum every time? Doesn't it hurt that many times? Is it medically safe? Are you hard every time? Don't you need a stimulation of some sort? Do grown men even masturbate?

I know over the last 5 minutes of conversation she must have asked 100 questions and I've only answered a few, she asks too many questions.  "Yes it is possible, I look at some por....I just do it, no big deal".

"You look at porn too? Since when? What type of porn? Where do you get it? Are you still employed? Are you one of those men that are, more hand quotes, addicted to sex?"

"Yes I am employed, generally after you go to work before Maggie wakes up, before you get home after I put Maggie to bed and once in a while if I'm near the house or have a light day".

What type of porn?  Never mind......I don't even want to know the answer to that.  How long is this been going on or when did it start"?

"The same type of porn that every guy has on his computer or his phone and I would say probably about a month ago".  

There was really no sense in me lying to her or trying to cover anything up, she had found me out and while humiliating I did have to face the consequences, so I might as well answer her questions.  How did I know there would be consequences?  Because I was married, to a female, and with females there are always consequences to everything you do that she does not 100% approve of.

"None of the men that I know at work or socially have porn on their computer or phone".

"Jen, I can't speak for work but I can tell you that every single male you know socially I know was well and they all have porn on their phone or their computer".

"Really"?

"Really".

"James, I don't approve of it and I do not like it.  All acts of sex for a married couple should be between them only, no solo activity, no extracurricular activity.  I want you to stop".

"Jen I only started because you didn't want any sex and I was done with my chores".

Looking at her eyes at that moment I thought our two year marriage was over then and there, the anger was that palpable. Then came the hurt and the tears and the run into the bathroom where she slammed the door and I heard the lock click.

"Jen, I am sorry, please come out, we can talk some more". I pled at the door.

"Go away and please sleep on the couch tonight and just leave me alone".  

[bostonbridget]

Dating Chronicles: The Cheap Bastard

We met on Tinder, of course. I was newly back to Tinder after an extended hiatus during which I relied on Bumble, Hinge, and the old-fashioned way to meet people/snag dates/get frustrated with life. But one of my best friends was using Tinder for the first time, and hearing her talk about the excitement of swiping for the first time, combined with a slow Friday night and a bottle of wine, made me itch to jump back into the cesspool.

Michael seemed great at first. A couple years older than me, he was new to Boston and a grad student at a highly acclaimed music school so we talked about artsy shit and fun stuff to do in the city. Our messages were a little more intellectually stimulating than my usual Tinder exchanges, and to top it off, he was from Australia so he had the sexy accent factor. When he asked if I wanted to meet up the next week I enthusiastically accepted.

“Sounds great, what were you thinking?” “Give me a few days, and I’ll plan something for us.”

I liked the sound of that. A man with a plan automatically gets extra attractiveness points. Then he followed up with a curveball:

“How about you come over to mine and we’ll make sushi together? It’ll be a fun way to get to know each other.”

…um.

I responded “Hey that sounds really fun, but to be honest I would feel more comfortable meeting in a public place for the first time.” He seemed to get it, and suggested we go ice skating and get hot chocolate instead. I agreed, he asked if I wanted to get a drink somewhere near the ice rink beforehand, I suggested one of my favorite spots, we had a date set.

Despite suggesting we meet for a drink prior to skating, he didn’t end up ordering a drink. When I finished my glass of Cab Sav, he not only made no movement toward his own wallet to pay for mine, but didn’t bat an eye when I eventually got the hint and paid for my drink. This wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest if he’d established that he wanted to go Dutch on the drink situation, but I was operating under the impression that he was paying since he was calling all the shots. I got the feeling that if I hadn’t paid we both would have sat staring at the bartender all night. The first date was off on a weird foot already.

I have a season pass to the skating rink, so he only had to pay for himself. That’s when I learned he had never skated before in his life—he proposed that date since he knew I love skating. Ok, that’s really cute, I admitted, but that also meant the whole date was me giving him a skating lesson. After about a half hour of riding the struggle bus straight into the ice, I suggested we follow up on his hot chocolate idea. He agreed, but as we made our way off the ice he asked if I had my wallet on me. Taken aback, I stammered that I had left it in my skate bag. I went to fetch it. When I got back to the concession stand, a long line had formed and so he bought my hot chocolate since he was standing right there and it would save time, plus as he put it, “It’s the least I can do since you’re teaching me how to skate.” The drink cost $1.50. The fact that he’d been so reluctant to shell out for something he’d proposed in the first place rubbed me the wrong way but I pushed it out of the way so I could enjoy the rest of the date.

On our walk back to the subway, we passed the movie theatre and he mentioned he’d been hoping to see some films. We spent a few minutes discussing the current releases, then I gave him a hug goodbye at my subway stop and told him we should definitely meet again next week. First date down, overall my spirits were high.

A few days later we started texting to plan Date 2. He wanted to skate again but I put the kibosh on that because I enjoy skating, not teaching a six foot conglomeration of arms and legs how not to fall on me. I suggested a movie instead—the weather was looking spotty, and we had talked about movies just recently. “I’m not taken by the selection at the moment.”

…um. We literally just discussed this a few days ago. I was confused. I knew he was a student, so maybe he was trying to save money? Working off that theory, I suggested the Museum of Fine Arts since admission is free on Wednesday nights.

The date was going well enough besides a complete absence of physical chemistry on my part, until we started swapping roommate horror stories. Mine include a violent alcoholic and a kleptomaniac—separate people, and stories for another day—but his roommate’s capital sin was…wait for it…leaving the heat on in the apartment when he goes out so that the temps stay at 72 degrees. Apparently, this is a wasteful and expensive practice. I held my tongue rather than blurt out that I can’t live in a house that’s colder than 72, but mentally I chalked this up as a potential issue.

At the end of this date, we discussed going out again, and he said his student budget is tight but he was dying to try some restaurants in the city since he hasn’t done much culinary exploration in the 3 months he’s been here (To be more specific, he got fast food twice and that was the extent of it. For a man who describes himself as a foodie, I found this strange). I enthusiastically described a few of my favorite places for potential future dates and then we parted ways.

On the way home I convinced myself that since he was apparently a broke student we wouldn’t go out again because he seemed completely uninterested in paying for anything, particularly me. This was starting to really bother me. I should point out I’m not a materialistic person, but Boston is an expensive-ass city and there are really only so many things you can do for free on a date before you’re stuck with Netflix & chill. Additionally, I love going out for dinner and drinks. I do it all the time with my friends, and it’s a part of my life I’m not willing to give up with for the sake of dating someone without a convenient 9-5 like yours truly.

That night, my roommate and I decided together that I’d stop seeing him, and literally a minute later he texts me “Want to get dinner this weekend?” I was taken aback. Maybe he’d finally seen the light as to my likes/dislikes, and was also interested enough to finally sacrifice a little to spend more time with me. I replied “Sounds great, where were you thinking?” He goes, “I’m not very familiar with places in the city—where do you want to go?” At this point, I’ve planned all our dates, and my patience was a hair away from cracking entirely. Just get on Yelp like a normal person and figure this shit out! I politely encouraged him to do some research and choose. He comes back with “How about I make you dinner?”

Fuuuuuuuuuck we’re doing this again? Nope nope nope. 

“I assumed you meant a restaurant since you mentioned it last night,” I reply. “I was thinking about it, and you’ve shared some important things about you with me, and I’m not sure that I can do the same by taking you to a restaurant I don’t know in a new city. I figure sharing some food from back home would be a nice way to do that though.”

I’ve shared important things? I assume he’s referring to my love for skating and art, but those aren’t dark secrets I save for super special people. Now I’m genuinely uncomfortable with the idea of spending more time with this kid, but I already said yes. Fuck. Fortunately I managed to move it up from dinner to lunch, so less pressure. I also fabricated an unmissable commitment at 2 with a friend in order to keep a time limit on this date.

This third date confirmed my suspicion that he was a cheap bastard because, at his house, he talked about how much every one of his possessions cost, and how much money he saved on his purchases. It was weird. He also gave me an exhaustive history of every scholarship he’d ever applied for and their exact worth. You know, typical cutesy date talk.

The incredible exotic “food from back home” (Australia) turned out to be pasta with marinara sauce. Did the poor guy not know that Americans eat Italian food?? I mean, it was pretty good, but I’ve definitely made equally good pasta myself and I don’t have a drop of Italian blood in me. I also live in a city with a killer Italian neighborhood and the best damn Italian you’ll have west of the Atlantic. Michael’s fate was sealed. I completely stopped giving a fuck about making a good impression and dove straight into the worst date conversations: politics, religion, and stuff that pisses me off. My attempts to turn the guy off failed miserably though because, incredibly, he found my opinions very interesting and engaging. *hair flip* Realizing this, I promptly developed a bad case of stank face, told him I had to run, and peaced the eff out of there, barely giving him a hug goodbye. I texted him later thanking him for dinner, and he tried to talk about politics and religion more but I did not engage. He must have gotten the hint because I never heard from him again.

This story was long AF, but the life lesson is that cheap bastards exist, they are the worst, and don’t let any of their charms distract you from that fatal flaw.

[kattalkingslow]

The Best Part Was

9 January 2017

Mo, Tiff and I took a trip to Las Vegas for this weekend and it was a memorable two days, although I think we found out quite a few things about ourselves while we were there. For one, maybe Vegas isn’t quite the place for us.

I think for all three of us the main reason for the trip was just to extend time a bit with each other, since one extrovert was a graduate and starting adult life while the other lesser extrovert would soon be in the army. Very proud of them both, but definitely even more reason to be intentional with spent time. I realized this trip that God has provided incredible friendships in my life, including these and many others, and they’re incredible precisely because they’re not only friends who choose to hang with you and whatnot but they are friends that choose to challenge and talk about important things and things they’re passionate about and faith and are willing to stick through hard times and embarrassing times like how we totally did not know how to be in a casino whatsoever.

The funny (and somewhat embarrassing) story of the weekend goes to the attempt to do the things one does in Las Vegas and failing miserably at it, which turns out not to be an incredibly big deal to any of us. We saw the sights and ate the buffet and saw a show (albeit in a very college student manner, i.e. choosing to spend a little more time in the food section and thus being late to the show). But afterwards things started to go a bit awry, though we already had our fair share of mishaps earlier on (previously, a man dressed as Olaf counted to three in Korean to us and then tugged at my arm to take a picture with him and we totally got juked by some street performer kids but we didn’t give them any money so we technically didn’t get juked other than through our time).

Didn’t quite know what it was to get into a club. Weren’t dressed the part and weren’t necessarily willing to dress the part for a club since it was incredibly cold. Didn’t quite want to drink. Lost two dollars trying gambling but couldn’t really understand it at all so we gave up. Tried ordering apple juice and failed. And then went up to the room and laughed about it all. It was the full experience of what “Christian girls in Vegas” could possibly mean.

Perhaps that was God’s way of lovingly closing doors to our curiosity.

But something I realized out of Kat, Tiff, and Mo’s adventure in Vegas was that we were way out of our league and “fun” held a very different meaning to us in comparison possibly to those surrounding us. Or maybe more so we didn’t quite value the things we found in Vegas and therefore invested very little time in those things.

That has been becoming more and more apparent to me, that people have differing senses of fun and leisure and pleasure and that they don’t always quite line up. It’s been difficult for me to connect with my cousin namely because I feel like she really has fun with things that I am not quite so interested in at all. She’s into alcohol, looking cute, and partying, which I think I like too, but I guess I just don’t prefer over other things. With my high school friends too, it seems like connectivity is something to be wrestled with, especially since people all seem to live a separate life, and suddenly it seems that alcohol becomes the binder of our friendships, which makes me both kind of angry and sad that it’s often the case. How can alcohol become the center of our relationships? How does it even have that kind of power? How is that possible?

I think day 2 definitely made us feel a lot more at home, although we didn’t quite mention it to each other (but I’m sure we thought it). And it’s a rather ironic juxtaposition: day 1 in “sin city”; day 2 in a small local church.

It was amazing.

I think honestly the highlights of this trip were the funny and deep conversations I had with Tiff and Mo, and secondly, visiting BJ and his church. Which just goes to show that it's really the people and not the places that make it great.

We walked into a small after school center, and it was a miniature room with several chairs set up and because of the irregular size of the room, the worship team was set up on the far right side and weren’t in the conventional face the audience kind of deal but rather kind of tucked away so the main congregation couldn’t really see them. It was really humble and small and unassuming but man, it was amazing. I was profoundly humbled because right when they started worship, I just felt this overwhelming sensation of peace and joy and just of understanding…that the Spirit of the Lord was here.

I was very excited to see BJ this trip. It was just deep set feeling of happy anticipation of meeting someone you hadn’t seen a long time. A reunion in a way. I felt so happy when I saw BJ sitting in the front working on a small soundboard in a very unassuming childcare-center-turned-church, and I was just reminded of when he served at Livingwater and it was like everything was the same! He has been faithful to God here. And I know in reality it didn’t seem like much but I think at that moment I was really touched and really humbled. This wasn’t a grand church with all the lights and special effects and crazy flashy things but a small set up with little kinks here and there but full of people with very faithful hearts.

And I really really felt that God was there. And that He loved that church so passionately and furiously.

And the comforting thought came: the Spirit of God is the same wherever I go.

It’s the same at Monrovia fellowship, at Livingwater, at Bethel and MBCLA and Evergreen, at BJ’s church. If God is there, HE IS THERE. It’s the same Holy Spirit, the same God, room filled with people who believe in the same Jesus, who desire to know the Lord just as you do. It was just such a bewildering experience. Maybe because we were in Nevada and not California.

I think that is possibly why I love visiting churches: they are all so different, gifted in different capacities, but at the end of the day filled with the same Spirit of God, worshiping the same Jesus.

I really valued today and the time we got to spend with BJ. It felt strangely like a preview of what it may be life to reunite with friends in adulthood, when everyone kind of has their own thing going. It really made me think about how to love these people in my life.

I don’t think I necessarily have a crazy close relationship with BJ, but it felt like kind of a mending of something broken by distance. Mo, Tiff and I were standing with BJ and some of his church friends and while everyone else was talking I said to BJ, “I missed you!” And if you know BJ, his typical response, especially to sappy statements (which I like just saying to him anyways because I know he hears them even if he responds like he doesn’t take it seriously), tends to be overstatements of a strange assortment of sounds and large waving hand motions.

But today, he just looked at me and all he said back was, “I missed you too.” And it was like we had all grown up.

[ouraidengray4]

How to Lose Weight Without Giving Up Carbs and Booze

I’m going to make an important list, and I suggest you take notes.

Dessert

Carbs

Alcohol

Eating after 8 p.m.

Sugar—of any kind

_____________

What else can you add that you've been told is bad? Maybe dairy, gluten, or non-organic foods?

Have your list? Good. This is a painting of your life. How does it look to you? A work of art? Something that makes you smile? Maybe that’s how some of you feel, but most of you don't like the way it looks. And that's a good thing.

Because that is a list of all the things I want you to keep in your life in 2017.

Confused? Don’t worry, I'm not drunk on leftover eggnog. I’m trying to break you of the mindset that does much more harm than good. The diet industry lives in an ocean of body negativity, twisted science, and behavioral Russian roulette. Step into the wrong extreme behavior, and who knows what the long-term consequences might be. I've watched far too many people start out innocently wanting to lose a few pounds in the New Year and come out frustrated and angry at themselves.

Not cool. Not fair. Not something I'm willing to stand for anymore. And you shouldn’t either.

Diet, nutrition, and any other food-related topic shouldn’t feel like Mission: Impossible. After all, this is food we’re talking about. The stuff you need to eat every day, and the stuff you should be enjoying as part of the many joys in life. I don’t care if it’s biting into a juicy steak, enjoying some pasta, or smiling between every bite of your dessert—food should be enjoyed. And I blame the diet industry for making you believe anything to the contrary.

I don’t care if it’s biting into a juicy steak, enjoying some pasta, or smiling between every bite of your dessert—food should be enjoyed.

This January, I want you to try something different. Call it a rebellion, a revolution, or just a renaissance, but we’re taking back food and enjoyment and reinventing it with a practical, scientifically supported approach to eating, living, and being healthier. I won’t make any promises, but if you choose this approach, you won’t return next January with the same frustration.

I know you're probably thinking: “Why should I trust the man offering desserts? Sounds like a scam.” But I make a living designing fitness and nutrition for real life. That means including foods you love, creating workouts that fit your schedule, and never ever ever setting false expectations.

So let’s start with a different New Year’s checklist:

No juice cleanses

No expensive supplements

No restrictive approaches that will leave you miserable and reaching for every food you miss

No four-week fixes

The Willpower Equation

Everyone likes to talk about willpower—and for good reason: It’s a real thing that influences your ability to take on tasks. But your willpower is limited. For real. The area of your brain that controls your willpower is located in your prefrontal cortex (you might remember this from biology as the area directly behind your forehead). It’s the same part of your brain that helps you with day-to-day tasks—everything from short-term memory to focus.

The prefrontal cortex is busy at all times. So whenever you take on a new behavior—especially one as big as getting in shape, exercising, and eating better—it’s like having a massive project dropped in your lap and being told everyone else in the office is too busy to help.

The result is that new actions can be very (very) hard to execute. In fact, it’s more than your brain can handle, meaning you default to old or undesirable behaviors.

Here’s how manipulative your brain can be. In a well-known study, two groups were given a number to remember. One group needed to remember a two-digit sequence, whereas the other needed to remember seven digits (both short-term memory tasks). The two groups walked down a hallway where they were presented an option of snacks: fruit salad or chocolate cake.

What happened? Those who had to remember the seven-digit sequence were two times more likely to dig into cake instead of opting for fruit.

Researchers refer to this as "cognitive load." The more space you’re taking up in the prefrontal cortex, the harder it is to make certain decisions. That’s why you need to prepare accordingly, so you have enough willpower to take on new tasks.

This is one of the reasons resolutions are such a flawed concept. If you’re trying to change 10 behaviors at the same time, it’s nearly impossible to succeed.

Start Simple

Most people love checklists because it feels awesome to cross off items and feel accomplished. The accomplishment part is great. The long list? Not so much. Whether or not you realize it, you’re laying the foundation for failure.

Success depends on consistency more than anything. So instead of asking, “What do I want to accomplish?” ask, "What’s the easiest thing I can do every day that will help me toward my goal?”

The "every day" part is important, because we’re shifting your mindset away from nuanced, difficult tasks to practical, doable ones. When you do good, you feel good. Success breeds success, and that creates habit. And habit makes everything easier. That’s the real goal: making change feel almost too easy.

If you swear off alcohol and then go out with your friends the first weekend in January, you might feel torn: Stay with your goal or break it? Do what you love or do what you feel is necessary to succeed?

Those are not questions you want to be faced with. At least, not initially. Instead you want to create a different construct. Start with simpler tasks you can master. For example:

I will eat vegetables twice per day.

I will sleep at least seven hours per night.

I will drink two glasses of water with every meal.

I will go to the gym three times during the week.

You could list endless habits that are designed to build behaviors. But start with one task and one only. Go slow to go fast. Trust me on this one. You do not need to eat chicken and broccoli for every meal, every day. You’ll thank me come April when you’re still kicking ass, instead of jumping off the wagon before January is even over.

Making change is hard. No one wants to admit it, but it’s true. So don’t make it harder by creating too many goals at once or by focusing on goals that seem like scaling a mountain instead of going for a walk. You’ll get to the mountain, but it’s better to build up momentum.

Make It Easy on Yourself

The other key is to leave room for imperfection. Let's say your goal is: “I will go to the gym three times during the week." Setting a goal of three times should not be your goal if you think that's the maximum amount you'll be able to go per week. Because if you're slammed at work and only make it to the gym once, you'll feel like you've failed.

Since you want to create behaviors that are easy, seamless, and become habitual, you might want to set a goal of two times per week. Declare that it will happen and then make sure you hit your two sessions every week without fail.

You want to make it as easy as possible to succeed. We all are susceptible to a psychological concept called "learned helplessness": Fail enough, and you come to expect failure. This is the foundation of bad fitness. Yet, all too often we set goals that increase the likelihood of failure. If you make your goals easy, you’re on the right track. Small successes will create positive reinforcement.

Give yourself two to three weeks to crush each mini-goal. Once you're consistently hitting the gym twice per week (or whatever makes sense for you), then add another goal. Then another. Each opportunity will give you the chance to build a habit you can master. As time goes on, you can make the goals much more specific and difficult. But when you do, you’ll be building on a solid foundation of habits that will make it very difficult to slide back to the old you.

It’s a Jedi mind trick for kicking ass. It's the equivalent of saying: “Don’t focus on the grade you want in a class; put all your energy into learning the material.” When that happens, it’s hard not to succeed.

I wish you a year of small victories, imperfection, and cheesecake (OK, maybe the cheesecake is for me). Whatever you do, don’t paint the picture of a life you wouldn’t want to live. It’s not necessary and definitely is not needed in order to achieve your health and fitness goals.

Adam Bornstein is a New York Times best-selling author and the founder of Born Fitness, a company on a mission to cut through the noise and share what you need to know to live a healthy, happy life. He extends that mission even further as Greatest’s Naked Truth columnist. Learn more on his profile page or follow BornFitness on Facebook.

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