Obsessed

I don't have anything smart to say other than this kid is FANTASTIC. I am not one to troll YouTube for random people videos, but someone posted a video of this guy singing and I heard his voice and was hooked. This one is my favorite:

And this one is too unique not to share. And the one that got him famous:

Gym wardrobe

To meet my fat girl needs, I joined Lifetime Fitness. As far as gyms in Chicago go, it’s probably one of the more luxurious ones in the suburbs but not as swanky as, say, Equinox in the city or East Bank Club (where Oprah and Obama work on their fitness). I’m describing its stature only because I feel at $60+ a month, a member should be able to afford a decent workout wardrobe.

Yet time after time I’m amazed at what people wear when they exercise. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a beauty queen at the gym. I can typically be found in a Gap tank top, sports bra and either cotton capris or shorts. I’ll slap on some mascara and lip gloss just to avoid frightened looks but I by no means dress it up to sweat it out.

What I can’t understand are people who wear jeans or khakis to work out. This is a specific problem among older men. And I don’t understand how it’s comfortable. If you can afford the membership to Lifetime, you can afford to go to at least Walmart and buy some T-shirts and sweatpants to exercise in.

I’ve seen a certain guy I went to high school with tearin’ it up the stairmaster in a sweatshirt hoodie, ripped basketball shorts and dirty gym shoes. He looks like a Garbage Pail Kid. I saw a girl wear what I think were actual pajama jeans. They had a denim quality to them and the appearance of pockets. Yet they were jersey material. A deception to the eye if I ever saw one.

I saw a girl last week whose shirt looked like Boof’s from “Teen Wolf” after she came out of the smooching closet with Scott — randomly ripped up the back. 

My favorite story involves a guy around my age who was giving me the goo goo eyes while I was on the stairmaster. He was cute so I gave him some eyes back. Until I noticed his shirt, which was from Uncle Pauly's strip club in Glen Ellyn and had this on the back:

I withdrew my goo goo eyes right quick.

Vicodin is my jam

I had a bad experience with an old friend last night. Vicodin has never done me wrong the way it did last night.

Prior to breaking my ankle, my body was sensitive to taking even a Sudafed for a cold. I remember one time in college, I took a generic Sudafed when I was sick, and my mind was racing so fast I thought I was certifiably insane. And I was known to say Nyquil should be sold on a street corner, not in a drug store. I just had extreme reactions to simple medicines.

But when you snap a bone in half, rip some ligaments and have a doctor pounding away on your insides, ultimately screwing a metal plate to your body, those memories fade away. When I arrived at the ER, they asked me if I wanted a painkiller in pill form or a shot. The pill would take about 45 minutes to take effect; the shot only five.  Given the amount of pain I was in, duh.

It was duh then but looking back, I may have gone a different route, knowing what I know now. They gave me a shot of Dilaudid, a narcotic used to treat severe pain. Within five minutes of receiving the shot, I was so high I could barely keep my eyes open. I just lay there. And then 10 minutes later, I started throwing up. And continued throughout the rest of the day. But, it took the pain away.

Part of my ER and surgery goody bag was a prescription for Vicodin. The ER gave me 5 mg tablets and my doctor upped it to 10 mg post-surgery. And I quickly discovered that Vicodin is my jam. 

How does it feel? When you first start taking the 5 mg pills, it’s kind of like you have the perfect buzz. With no hangover. The first time I took a 10 mg, I just lay on my bed and enjoyed the ride.

The bad part is your body starts to become tolerant of both doses, making them less effective and less like your floating. Which is how people become addicted. I saw an interview with Kristen Johnson, who starred on “Third Rock from the Sun” and the interviewer knew her when she was on Vicodin, but didn’t know she was an addict. She said there would have been no way to tell because by that point, she wasn’t taking Vicodin to get high, it was merely to function. And then her stomach exploded. Seriously, it did.

Other bad parts include itchiness (seriously, I felt like I had a tick. I was constantly itching my face, head and body. I confirmed with my fellow Vicodiners, Moogs and my dad, and they had the same symptom) and constipation. I didn’t find myself constipated or in pain but I’ll just say that it was awhile in between “episodes of that nature.” A good part is it suppresses your appetite. Between the Vicodin diet, workout from crutches and not eating out because I was homebound, I was feeling pretty good.

I only took Vicodin consistently for a little over two weeks after the break. I was starting to see how people could become addicted and wanted to stop before I was hovering in Matthew Perry circa 1997 territory.

I stayed off the juice for about six months. But once I started working out again, specifically running, I would have days where I was in enough pain to warrant a pill. Since I hadn’t taken one in so long, I stuck with the babies (5 mg).

By the end of the work day yesterday, my ankle had a stabbing-like pain to it. I’ve been working at my house almost every day and between moving boxes up three floors, standing on a step ladder to paint my pantry, kneeling down to paint trim, hauling a bed up three flights of stairs and precariously carrying a glass TV stand upstairs with my mom, the ankle has had a lot of strain on it lately.

So last night, I treated myself to my last “big boy” — a 10 mg. The first 90 minutes were fantastic. It was a cross between a great buzz and an energy burst. I folded two loads of laundry, packed a few boxes and cleaned my bathroom. But then I started to feel really nauseous. I barely ate dinner, and my breathing became really labored. It was that feeling when you’re hung over and trying not to throw up so you just lie in bed and focus on your breathing. It sucked.

Taking a 10 mg pill after not having taken any form of narcotic wasn’t the best idea. Noted. I brought my babies to work today in case it gets crazy again.