Les God 2

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Since hanging my giant self portrait in what is perhaps the most prominent piece of wall space in our home, I’ve received mix reviews.

painting

Two people have asked, “Is that a painting of Shakira?”

My mother told me it was “really weird”.

My sister laughed while sputtering “You would do something like that.”

My brother told me I didn’t look caucasian.

And I’m not even going to start on the lengthy list of protests Scott has not-so-subtly filed.

But last night at book club, there was a glimmer of hope. One of my girlfriends remarked, “It reminds me of the poster for Le Mis!”

(Not sure if that’s a compliment, but I’m taking it as one. I mean…it’s a step up from Shakira, right?)

I sized up my work for the umpteenth time. It did kind of look like the Les Mis Playbook design. Yet it also felt reminiscent of another Broadway show. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it…

And then–just like that–it hit me like a ton of harmonized Sunday School songs.

art2

Officially changing the name of my piece from “ShaBritney” to “Les God”.

County fair blue ribbon, here I come!

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The Fab Five: July 2014 1

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July pretty much rocks.

Not is it warm enough to swim in the lake/eat popsicles/walk around barefood…its also the month I celebrate my birthday and wedding anniversary!

Here’s what I’m loving during this oh-so-awesome month.

 

Amazon Coconut Water

coconut-water

Costco, you’ve done it again! This blend of pure coconut water and white tea is mild, refreshing, and jam-packed with a nutritious rainforest extract called “camu camu”. At 60 calories a bottle, it’s a guilt-free, health-filled indulgence. If you don’t care for the strong, gritty flavor of pure coconut water, this is a really good option. Not only is it great post-workout hydration, it’s delicious with a shot of Malibu in it. (Bonus — it’s on sale at Costco this month!)

 

Summer Tomato

summer-tomato

A refreshingly real, balanced blog that addresses all things food and nutrition. I love Darya’s normal, non-crazy, real-life approach to healthy living, and would encourage everyone to stop by her site and take a look. A friend gifted me her book, Foodist, as an early birthday present, and I can’t wait to dive in! Hopefully it breaks my cycle of ice cream binges followed by stringent cleanses.

 

Athleta

athleta

Call me crazy, but I always assumed Athleta was fitness-wear for older ladies. A Coldwater Creek version of Lululemon, if you will. Last weekend, I ended running a 5K sponsored by the brand, in spite of my injured back. After the race, I innocently sauntered into 50th & France location for a bit of window shopping.

Holy sports bras, was I impressed!

Athleta had tons of cute workout apparel, as well as swimwear and casual everyday pieces. Their prices were slightly more reasonable than Lululemon, and dare I say it, I think I like their pants better. (Don’t hate me, Lulu.)

The best part? If you’re a fitness instructor, you get 30% off all of their merchandise, all the time. (That’s going to be dangerous for this girl.)

 

Five-Layer Greek Dip

greek-dip

This super-simple recipe takes minutes to whip up, boasts tons of healthy ingredients, and is always a hit at parties. I’m hosting a book club meeting tonight, and will be serving this with sliced baguette and chips. It’s one of my favorite appetizers and is so fool-proof, I’m pretty sure even Jolie could make it. (If she had opposable thumbs, that is.)

 

Unroll.me

unroll

 

You need to take advantage of this free website immediately. Seriously.

With a few click of a mouse, you can effortlessly unsubscribe from the dozens of email lists you’ve mysteriously been added to over the years. (A weekly newsletter subscription to a doggie hotel in Pennsylvania?? I don’t ever go to Pennsylvania!)

Trust me…it will be the most productive five minutes of your week.

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Psst! Want more Fab Five goodness? It’s all right here.

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That’s what I get for wearing underwear 4

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“Should I put a pair on?” I debated internally while lying on the floor in excruciating pain. I had thrown out my back during a deadlift the evening before, and had exerted a ridiculous amount of effort to transfer my throbbing body from the mattress to the floor of my bedroom.

I was on my way to the first chiropractic appointment of my life. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect…but with the way my back felt, I was willing to try just about anything.

I’m one of those people who wears underwear on a semi-regular basis. My choice ultimately depends on what I’m doing, what fabric will be covering my lower half, and whether or not I’m able to physically get my legs through the holes. (That last part was what I was worried about on this particularly morning.)

What does one even wear to the chiropractor, I pondered. Is the exam done with clothes on? What if I go commando, and then am asked to strip down to my skivies for the actual x-ray or something???

I decided not to risk chiropractic humiliation and take one for the team. It cost me a good twenty minutes…but after a great deal of blood, sweat and tears, I had managed to maneuver my crippled carcass into a clean pair of drawers. I strapped on a bra, awkwardly slithered into my most comfortable maxi dress, and hobbled out to the car.

I soon learned that a chiropractic exam and adjustment do not require the removal of any clothing. Clearly, this left me feeling incredibly stupid for stewing about such a non-issue.

Little did I know, I was about to feel even more stupid.

charm

Leave it to me to pick the only pair of underwear in my closet with an attached charm that would show up clear as day on an x-ray.

And appear to be an exotic piercing.

I desperately wanted to explain that the “B” dangling from my pelvis was attached to my undergarments…not something else. I kept trying to find the words, but just couldn’t bring myself to address such an embarrassing misunderstanding. Before I knew it, the exam was over and I had missed my opportunity to explain myself.

The good news is, my chiropractor rocks. I’ve visited him twice now, and am healing quickly and feeling dramatically better each day. The best part? He doesn’t seem to judge me for my sketchy piercing that doesn’t actually exist.

(Which totally makes up for the fact that his office doesn’t accept my insurance.

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What’s wrong with this picture? 11

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bacj

I mean…other than the fact that my spine looks like a limp spaghetti noodle.

10,000 sexy points to whoever can figure it out.

P.S. Sorry that this is not a real post. If you’re back felt like mine did, you’d take a day off too.

P.P.S. Deadlifts are stupid.

P.P.P.S. If you see someone carousing through Smalltown with her torso tipped forward at a 70 degree angle, it’s me.

P.P.P.P.S. I’d officially like to add “pimped out wheelchair” to the list I made yesterday.

P.P.P.P.P.S. Just kidding, deadlifts. I’ll come crawling back to you soon.

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