Preggo Spartan Race Anyone?

Well, today was certainly a long and tiring day.  I am glad it is almost over.  Soon it will just be Olivia Benson on the tv, my bed and I.  Yippee!

I thought of so many ideas for this blog today.  I actually got pretty excited about some of them.  And now my mind is drawing a complete blank on what any of those ideas were.  Awesome.

I ended one chapter of my social life today.  I am not sad to see that chapter end.  It relates to my post from yesterday regarding closed-minded people and isolating me due to differences in life and moral standards.  I did receive affirmation that some people out there do like my quirky nature.  I need to remind myself to concentrate on the positives in life and not so much the negatives.  Being mopey and negative only bring you down.  Thinking optimistically can get you somewhere happier.

I think I should be flattered that the closed-minded group out there mentally gave me the powers to turn people into swingers.  Yes.  You read that right.  Swingers.  Me?  Last time I checked, having a partner is a pretty useful tool to be in the swinger lifestyle.  I do not pass judgement on someone's lifestyle, especially that related to one's sexual proclivities much less what makes them happy and a more cohesive relationship unit.  Swingers are cool in my book.  If that's what makes them happy, way to go them!

The other night I had the strangest dream.  I dreamed that I was preggo.  Like third trimester, ready to pop that crotch spawn out any moment preggo.  And for some reason I was in my triathlon uniform and at a Spartan race.  And lo and behold, I did not let the fact of my procreative disposition stop me from competing in the race.  When I say compete, I mean army crawling in a mud pit under barbed wire set aflame.  Yep.  You read that correctly.  I somehow managed to fit under the barbed wire atrocity swollen like a pig carcass among the pit of mud.  Wooo me!  Dream world reality sure is odd.  I wonder how the laws of physics apply to such a world?

I really like dream world for the most part.  Man, the dreams of couples I've been having lately...whoa.  No need to expand on that farther.  Simply, whoa.  [insert shit eating grin here.]

This seems like a great segue to dating.  Hannibal + Dating = hilarious stories of crashing and burning.  I have a very good friend.  Let's call her...Diana.  Diana Prince.  I have a healthy respect for Ms. Prince.  She and I were even single at the same time and joined the same dating websites.  Man oh man.  Let me tell you, she got all kinds of responses.  From all kinds of men.  She had an excellent filter.  She managed to go on plenty of dates and ended up slimming down the numbers and found a keeper.  Me?  I did not get a single date and hardly much of a comprehensive message in the same time frame.  Wha tha fugh?!  Ms. Prince is female.  She knows she is female.  She exudes female.  she knows how to use FEMALE.  And then there is me.  Awkward as fuck.  Flirting?  You have got to be kidding me.  You would think that once a gal hits her 30s, she'd be able to at least effing flirt with people she is attracted to, right?  Wrong!

My version of flirting usually ends up me talking about my Jeep, off roading, outdoor adventuring and ending up be chummy with the dude in a "bro" manner.  Dammit.  Backfire!  No, not a bro!  I wanna be a sexy object of his affection.  Not an effing bro!  *facepalm*  Ms. Prince has agreed to help teach me the finer ways of flirting, e.g. reading books on body language and shit.  Good luck, Ms. Prince.  You have your work cut out for you.  Some day I'll go on a date.  Apparently my 2.5yr dry spell of singledom is a challenge you are will to accept, bwahahaha!

What I think a main contributing factor to my continued singledom is?  Many of my interests in life are what society tends to consider "masculine" pursuits.  Example #1: my off roading love, especially that of owning a rig and working on it with my own two hands.  No man built my rig.  This gal right here with tits and a vagina did!  And is damn proud of it.  I am a strong-willed person.  I do not back down unless given facts to convince me otherwise.  My ideal?  A man that understands that my love of my Jeep eclipses nearly everything, including him. :-)  Buying me Jeep parts is way sexier than useless jewelry , flowers and other pointless things.

Part Deux: Exercise!

You know you are reaching stages of getting old when having too much flatulence keeps you up at night.  Yup.  Flatulence.  Fuck my life.  I swear I am not kidding.  Farting away when all I want to do is sleep.  Great.

Today was one of those reminders that I am a single female and horribly misunderstood as a person in the great state of Idaho.  I should add to that that I truly love who I am as a person.  It has taken YEARS for me to reach this point in my life.  The point where I can look at who am I as a whole human being and be happy with what I see.  I actually look at myself in the mirror and smile.  Naked!  I smile at my nude body!  Why?  Because it makes me happy.  I like my body.  I have worked so hard to be the person I am today, both internally and externally.  Up until recently, I felt the photo below described my self esteem almost to a "T".

But now, I see it and get angry at how pervasive the idolized female form according to mass media and Hollywood truly is.  And how that unhealthy form creates unhealthy women and girls.  Well not any more.  Nope.  Not me.  I'm not falling for it!

You know what really changed?  I signed up for a Spartan race (coming up in June) way back last fall.  I had a goal to go for and achieve.  When I have goals, I strive to accomplish them.  My workout routine has been religious.  I am reminded why I love working out so much.  It is my "Zen" time.  Just me working to meet my goal.  Working to finish my set.  Sweating and heaving and ho-ing to do...just....one....more...[breathe!].  Now I joined a local GoRuck team and try to go to at least one workout ruck event sponsored by them a week.  On my days off from work, I take the dog, put a ruck on her and off we go, rucking along in the mud, sand, sagebrush and dirt.  My new favourite object?  My rucksack.  I literally take it everywhere I go.  With or without weight in it, hahahaha!

 My current goal is to be able to climb a rope and do a pull up.  Two things I have never been able to do in my entire being of existence.  The photo below, I find it to be as intimidating as shit!  But also refreshing- it is something that I WILL do.  Not simply dream to do. :-)

The photos I find most inspiring are nothing like this:

Now, do not get me wrong.  That woman worked very hard for that body.  And I applaud her- it is beautiful to behold with one's eyes.  I also want to smack every man out there that thinks that is the ideal female body.  *vomit*






The photos I love and aspire for are these (e.g. NORMAL looking people doing it):

 

Today, I have decided to cleanse myself of those unworthy to be my acquaintances, much less my friends.  I am tired of being around closed-minded people in my free time.  So, if people think me too odd, too free thinking, too unconventional, too un-filtered, too not family friendly, too liberal, too [insert something here], guess what?  I choose not to spend my time with you.  I have better things to do in my time than be put down for being me.  For choosing to be who I am and reveling in it happily. :-)

And here I am, in all my glory.  Possibly the only photo of me I will put on here.  I love this photo.  I encompasses so many of my passions in life- rucking/exercising, "my" dog, being outside enjoying the world around me, and, most importantly, my Jeep.  Yes, my Jeep.  I LOVE my Jeep.  But that is for a different blog entry at another time, tehehehe.

And, to end on a positive note...of omg manly sprung holy hawtness.  Here is a video I found on my Facebook feed yesterday from Instinct Magazine: <--- click the link (I'm an IT moron).

'Bad Boy Of Ballet' Sergei Polunin Brings Us To Our Knees For Hozier 'Take Me To Church' Performance

Intro: Who am I?

John Galt!

Amirite?  Eh eh?  Get it?  Anyone?  *crickets*  hooookay, moving on.

So, who am I, you ask?  I'm me.  That's who.  This blog, as described in my previous post is simply a tale relating my life here in I-da-ho.  My life as a social pariah in I-da-ho.

I am...Hannibal.  Yep.  Pretty cheesy, but I also feel a certain sense of privacy.  This is the internet you know.  I am not a blabbermouth.  Or, in the words of the great show, Dragnet:

"Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent."

 

Therefore, you do not get my real name.  And so what if I picked a man's name.  Hannibal is one of my all-time favourite books and is my favourite fictional character ever created.  I guess I could have gone for Trajan, or Julius or Eleanor.  But I could not think of those ones soon enough and I still feel Hannibal is the best one for me. :-)  Oh, that also means, any names I post on here are also pseudonyms.  I like the majority of the people I interact with and do respect their privacy...to a certain degree, ha!  But if they do or say something worth putting in here, by all means, it will go in here (tehehehe).

My Backstory:
I live in Idaho.  I am not a native of Idaho.  I was born in the Midwest.  Attended a four year DIII liberal arts college.  Moved to the East Coast after graduation.  Attempted to earn my Masters while working full time.  Did not succeed. Had a monotonous desk job that was soul-sucking and learned that I am not able to work in a group of women, much less have one (or a few) be my bosses.  I hated life out East.  I quit my job and joined AmeriCorps.  I moved out West to the middle of Bum Fuck Egypt.  The nearest neighbor was over five miles away.  To buy groceries was roughly 100mi round trip.  To get gas was a 20mi round trip.  I worked as free slave labor.  I learned to explore and adventure on a solo-you-better-know-your-shit-or-you-die-out-here style.  I also made some fantastic friends along the way.  And then that ended and I am here, to Idaho.  It was either Idaho (where there are trees and people with some teeth) or Reno (where there are no trees and most people do not have their teeth).  Idaho won.

Things I learned along the way:

• NEVER watch The Hills Have Eyes and 30 Days and 30 Nights at night when you live in BFE by yourself.
• When stacking packed 90lb bags of concrete mix, do not just "plop" them on the dolly while leaning over the dolly.  There is this thing called momentum and gravity.  And when your head is in the way of the trajectory of the dolly handles, it really hurts when impact is made.  Ask me how I know.
• Everybody has baggage.  Some are simply better at packing and lugging them around than others.
• I think everyone should take a solo road trip across the United States at least once.  Your ass will sleep and atrophy.  Your shoulders will ache like hell.  And your legs want nothing more than to stretch themselves.  But the sights are sometimes worth it.  And it makes you appreciate how vast the Unites States really is.  But here's the caveat: the middle of the U.S. sucks.  Go ahead and skip those parts.
• As you grow up and move around, you sometimes lose your sense of "home base."  The longer you live away from your parents home (the home you grew up in), the less that place feels like home.  But when you move as often as I do, sometimes you're still looking for it.
• Vehicle maintenance.  Let's say it all together now.  Ve-hi-cle Mai-nten-ance.  Follow this as if it was a religion.  You'll be thankful later.
• Wrist tattoos hurt.  A LOT.

I'm sure there's more.  But that's all I could think of off the top of my head.

My Idaho Stats:

• Female-ish: yay!?  Except certain days of the month.  I've seriously considered selling my uterus on the black market- "Like new!  Never been used!"
• In 30s: Not sure if this is yay or nay.  Vote is still out on that one.
• Single
• Childless: eee gads, 'nuf said
• Educated: Ask me how I feel about that DIII education debt I'm still paying off...
• Independent minded: Fuck yes I am!
• Full-time employed for multiple years (at the same place!): In Idaho, this is quite a feat.

Ok, that's probably more than enough that you need to know about me.  But it gives you an idea of me.   I will follow up in another post with stats on Idaho itself.

Since I am sort of an odd duck, I figured what the hell, I'm going to also make this a blog about shit that captures my attention and gives me pause for thought.

Things that are off limits to this blog:

• Identities: no bueno.  Sorry.  Nope.  Not giving those away
• Work: I value my job.  I adore my job.  I am my job.  Nothing that I do at work will be mentioned in here.  That is not to say that interactions I have with coworkers and/or friends will not be mentioned in here.  As long as it is not about work, it can be mentioned.  No ifs, ands, or buts.
• Bigotry and closed-mindedness: I may think and act a certain way.  But that does not mean I limit myself solely to thinking and acting those ways.  I will entertain to listen and digest someone else's point of view.  I may disagree.  But as long as those opposing view points can be supported by fact and experience that can be respected, I can respect to listen to it.  No bigotry.  No hate.  No keyboard trolls, patriots, butt-heads, weenies, whathaveyou.

And now I'm tired.  I have not even covered the tip of the iceberg here.  But alas.  That will have to wait.  Time to watch some Law and Order: Special Victims Unit before reading a chapter or few of The Last of the Mohicans and falling asleep.  I love me some Detective Olivia Benson.  Mmmhmm, yes I do.  I'd like to think she is a Hollywood fictional sister of mine.  Driven.  Childless.  Awesome.  Bad-fucking-ass!

First Post: Reason for Blog and Warning #1

So I thought I would start this blog after having a multitude of discussions *e.g. rant* about being me in Idaho.  And by me, I mean female (in her 30s) without either a significant other or children.  Which, if you know much about Idaho, makes me a social pariah.  Add in the fact that I follow no religion, I am liberal-minded *gasp* and have no desire for marriage or popping my uterus's cherry, makes me one of the low down dirtiest social pariahs there are in the good ol' Gem State.

My friends find my tales of dating escapades *read: disasters* and self initiated lone wolf style outdoor adventures fun to listen to and advised to share my tales of woe and elation via this blog.  So, look no farther for fun, mystery and face-palming moments than to read my very own online blog.  Woo.  Joy of effing joys!

Warning: I talk like a sailor.  This is who I am.  I have no filter and do not pretend that it works.  Sometimes, I even write how I talk.  This means, this blog will be full of (wonderfully) filthy-minded, dirty worded descriptors of all sorts and varieties.  If you are offended by written word, then look no farther.  This is your end point.  Have a nice day....puss.