Self Promotion

Hello in out there in the world!
So I need your help. I am running a half marathon as a member of CCFA's National Team. The half marathon is  Rock 'n Roll Las Vegas Half Marathon. The catch is that I need to raise money to support CCFA's goal of finding a cure for Crohn's and Coalitis. Check out the link below and it will not only give you more information about CCFA, Crohn's and Coalitis, but give you a chance to donate. Thanks a million!!

Stay beautiful!

The Battle Royal Between Goals and Reality.

Goals are hard to achieve. Ever wonder why you never really reach your New Year's Resolutions? Because it's hard. Goals are shitty, evil bastards and, in my opinion, the more you achieve your goals the stronger you are. How do I know that sticking to goals and reaching your goals is hard? Because I've quit on a few, and never given up on others. Currently, I have two main goals: get into jaw dropping shape {keeping my fingers crossed} and maintaining a budget. We'll talk about the money first...because I'm pretty sure I can go on and on about fitness and my neurotic goals I believe I can achieve. Now to get things straight, I am by no means struggling to survive...but I am a broke college kid. Yes, I made it into summer semester, thank god. So...creating a budget was my first step. I did a pretty modest job. Mind you, it's only the second week in, but I can tell getting used to restricting my spending is going to be a pain in my ass. I'm not an excessive spender, but I'm used to being able to buy what I want, when I want it. Is that a good thing? No, but I also have not gone so far as to kill myself monetarily. I recently received my first credit card with a three hundred dollar limit, and I used it once for business attire. My credit is good, but creating a budget seemed smart seeing as the end of the month is always tight. May will be the first month that the entire month will be encompassed into the budget. Already I'm seeing where I can cut spending, and noticing the extra money I'll be able to put away for an old truck. Seems pretty sweet. But...mountain biking is an expensive habit so sticking to this budget is going to be rough. Damn you George Washington and your monetary value. And yes, I'm a strong believer of every dollar counts. I'm kind of hoping my OCD will kick in and I'll be amazing at this thing by the end of May. But reality is a bitch and she's good at tittie punching you when you think you got shit down pat. So here's for hoping that things will go smoothly. I'll let you know how it goes. Aha.
Then there's this fitness thing I keep mentioning. I have high goals, and even higher expectations. Why? Because my brain thinks it's funny to fuckk with me and my view of myself. Yayy for Rocky's brain. She is a mastermind and a cunt. Most days we get along, but other days it's an uphill battle in the snow. So my specific goals...I want to be a trainer and a nutritionist. Because I love working out and eating cleanly and healthily, but also because helping people feel good about the things they can do is beautiful. As for my own fitness goals, I want to have a six pack by July, and be able to do fifteen pull ups without stopping by August. Like I said, I have high expectations of myself. But I believe I can do it, and for the days I don't Travii Troublesome makes me work out anyway. Remember one thing, you'll never regret a work out..but you might regret eating that whole box of Cheez-its. Just saying, it's pretty much a guarantee. I've been there. I still have my bad days, and my really bad days, and then there are the days that I want to say fuckk it. And I just have to wake up the next day and remember that one day will not break me, it's not the deciding factor. As long as I keep putting on my running shoes, or my amazing yoga toe socks, or my clip in shoes I'll be okay. Getting in shape is only fun if you actually step back and look at yourself from someone else's perspective. Noticing the small changes in your body, the extra lap you weren't able to run last week. Realizing that it's not an over night venture. That in order for your body to look the way you want it, you have to work harder than you want to, longer than you may have energy for. But in the end it will be worth it. Hell, a month later it will be worth it. I can contest to that. And one of these days I'll have the balls to post some before and current pictures on this thing, just to show you what a month can do. This six pack thing, we're going to have issues. Because I'm a huge fan of good beer. That dark, creamy, mocha, sooper hoppy beer...that has a million calories in it but tastes so derishush. I'm trying to drink wine when I'm having one of those days, and for the most part, it works. Mainly because I only have one glass, compared to the three beers I would have had. I'm not a fan of wine, but sacrifices are to be had. It's going to be hard, scratch that. It's going to be one of the toughest things I've done so far, but I can't wait until I get there. Until that day, it's hard work and dedication. It'll be sweat, and sometimes tears because my body is going to hate me, but someone or something is going to make me push harder.
Until next time sweet thang, stay beautiful.

New Beginnings..

New beginnings..yeahh, I guess that's a good way to put it. I'm starting a new chapter in my life. Of course, it's more like starting to read six books at once and getting the characters mixed up. I just got out of the military in January. And let me tell you, being thrust out into the wilderness of civilization is a huge reality check to those military folks that think they have their shit together. Lies, blasphemy, propaganda!! The real world is completely different from anything in the military. They don't prepare you for this shit. Going from working fifteen hours a day to having no job, no school, a place to live if you're lucky enough to find a cheap place like I was. It's a huge change from the structured "You do everything I tell you" life of military. I found out that I can't stand being alone in one place for long. And unemployment blows, especially in Calii. I finally got a job after three and a half months of applying. I start next week. Fuckking nerve-racking, yes? Not even close to everything yet. I start school in May, if I'm lucky enough to get summer classes, if not I'm kind of fuckkt twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the fall semester. It's been five years since I've gone to school. Are you fuckking serious? Those forty year olds that return to school, my hat's off to you. You are brave souls. It's only been five years and I'm still nervous. On top of these three life changing factors, I'm living with my boyfriend, Travii Troublesome. We've been together for almost a year and a half. But living together can be an adventure to put it nicely. I'm not sooper girly, but I believe there are still things we don't need to share yet. Like how long it takes me to shave my legs...or how long it takes him to shit in the morning. Don't get me wrong, we have a blast. Probably more fun than you and your girlfriend. We play drunk Life, have epic nerf gun battles with my thirteen gun collection, jello shot twister....I love living with him. But this is the first significant other I've lived with, joint lease and all. There are days when I want to be alone, and I'm pretty certain there are days when he wants to throw me off the third story balcony. But we make it work. I'm no expert, I've had my heart broken and I'm guilty of breaking them too, but I know this much: talking works. Talking, not yelling, not fuckking..granted that's fun and all, but after the angry sex nothing has changed but the chemicals in your brain. Talking is what gets us through almost everything. We got pretty lucky, and we haven't had a serious fight yet. It will happen one day, but so far we've been pretty level-headed and calm when dealing with our issues. And any couple that says they don't have issues are liars. True story. On to another book I'm starting to read simultaneously is getting healthier. In my previous episode I mentioned my torn ACL. For being athletic my whole life, this killed me. I became depressed, moody, and well chubby...which didn't help the two afore mentioned side effects. I have never been a stick, nor do I want to be. I'm happy with my 130 pound, size 5, muscular body. But when that number tipped to 160, I flipped. Something in my brain started beating on the side of my skull, calling me lazy and I was only enabling my laziness by using my knee as an excuse. I've had knee injuries before, being so clumsy it's inevitable, but this was terrible. So I got my fat ass back into gear. Three months later, two 5k's under my belt, fifteen pounds lighter, and two more mud runs scheduled this month I'm ecstatic. I'm not where I was, but I'm getting there. My mind has been set, and there's no going back. It hasn't been easy, but with my determination and Travii Troublesome's help on my bad days, I'm remembering that strength is beauty. No matter what anyone tells you, dreams don't work unless you do sweetheart. Wishing you were skinny or in shape won't get you anywhere. It takes hard work, on and off the field. And support, even if it's just from one person. I have a daily reminder around my wrist. It's a bracelet my friend gave me years ago with a charm I added. All the charm says is "Strenth", but it helps me. When pull ups are kicking my ass, and I don't want to run anymore I remember that my body is strong, I am strong. I've stopped drinking every night, which ended up being stupidly easy for me..because being in the military is pretty much four years of being an alcoholic. So getting out, and expecting everyone to drink a bottle or two with you..then realizing it's Tuesday and everyone is looking at you like you have the plague is a serious culture shock from everyone drinking all the time. If you don't have beer, someone is bound to have some and be in a sharing mood. Stoopid military. The last and final book I'm trying to organize the characters to is making new friends. I have serious trust issues, and most call me a bitch. I'm okay with that. But what I'm not okay with is the fact that I'm talking to my orchid I named Poindexter. Making new friends will be a feat of magic for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm a blast. Ask any of my friends. But I live forty five minutes away from them all to be closer to school and further away from everyone that expects certain things from me. It's an adventure that scares me shitless. This means I have to open up and be nice to random people. I'm fuckkt. But until next time love, keep being beautiful. Peace and love my nerds.

Ever wonder what it's like outside?

You know what really makes me sad? The lack of children outside. I grew up in bumfuckk nowhere, and outside was our television. I didn't get a Nintendo until I was eleven, but even then my imagination was more fun than computerized images. Parents don't want to teach their kids sports, or spend time with them so they center the lives of their children around cable. I don't have cable, and I haven't since I moved out of my mom's house four and a half years ago. I have outside to entertain me. When I was little, my brothers and I used to play Indianna Jones and run around in the fields four hours on end. I grew up breaking bones and scraping knees. I rode bikes, still do in fact, fell down hills, wrestled with my dogs. Now I go for hikes, run for charities, wander and get lost on unfamiliar trails. I still break things and hurt myself but I know what the sun is. Just last November I tore my left ACL. After a shit ton of strength training, I can ride my bike for ten miles, and run about three. The only way to stay young is to play. What is that video game going to do for you? Help your diabetes, your obesity maybe. Now I'm not perfect. But what are you going to do when your niece and nephews or daughter/son wants to play and you get out of breath after ten minutes? Why not remind yourself what it's like to be a kid? The group of friends I hang out with call themselves The Boy Scouts. Why? We get drunk and party, just like any other set of twenty somethings. But the difference is that we still love the sun, the feeling of finishing a 5k, of wrestling with all the little monkeys our brothers and sisters have hatched in the past years. Jello shot induced freeze tag, ended up with Chaseface meeting the fence, but it was a blast. Mistress Anastasia can break just about any horse, not to mention find the right light for Car Crash Hearts Photography. Travii Troublesome has legs that can carry him for miles, and the audacity to laugh while you're struggling to catch his ass. Quebec Trauma makes a misadventure of his life and dupes hospital secuity guards..but his green thumb makes everything he touches beautiful. Michael Michael Motorcycle, well he's our driver. Anywhere we end up, he's there to supply us. Then there's me, rockymonsterr. I'm down for just about any kind of adventure..which you'll learn through all my trials and tribulations. My mom and I still wrestle, she'll be fifty this year. My dad still kicks my ass on his mountain bike. Age is no excuse. If you do anything for me, go play on the monkey bars, join a softball team, go for a hike, get lost in some poor farmer's field. Something outside, under the sun, next to the ocean, in the middle of the woods. Remember what it's like to be a kid. Play with your kids the way they want to play. It's time for today's adventure to start. So until next time sweeness, stay young.