When Dove Bars Cry, Part Deux



(There’s a good reason why I bought these fugly shoes)


Update: I tried on the skinny jeans again a few weeks ago and was set to give you guys an update, but the muffin top was still there and I was ashamed. It looked as if it had just been taken out of the oven, in all its golden-baked glory. I was hoping she would be much smaller by now, but I still think I’m eating far too much cheese than is necessary for on person to consume. I have contemplated throwing out my bag of shredded cheese as an act of strength and bravery, but every time I get ready to dump it, I think about the omelette I’m going to have in the morning and then it makes no sense to just have turkey inside my eggs.

Everyone knows I’ve tried millions of times to get myself together, and I’m going to keep on doing until I can finally fit into a smaller bra and feel more comfortable outside of stretchpants. I’ve done juicing, the NutriBullet, the diet pills- you name it, I did it. All those methods definitely work, but I always ended up gaining all the weight back. What I’m trying now is curbing my habit for takeout. I eat out. A LOT. I will oftentimes will look back at a week’s worth of eating and review how much I ate something not made from my kitchen, and it’s downright scary. It’s nearly 80% of my diet. That’s no bueno. No wonder I’m broke and backed up…

So I’ve started eating as much as I can at home, and it has been HARD. Eating from my own kitchen is extremely difficult, especially since I dont’ cook. Now, I can throw down on some “breffus”, but you can only eat so many eggs in one week- plus I need to keep my cholesterol down. And since I can’t eat fajitas, spinach dip, and bourbon chicken ( my only signature dishes) all the time, I’ve been trying my best to prepare my meals in my abode. It’s still a work in progress, but at least I have a Trader Joe’s nearby to help.

I have also tried to keep up a regular workout regimen, and making sure I try to workout every day, even if it is a walk to my local Target ( like I need an excuse). Since the elliptical and treadmill can get a bit boring, I signed up for a few fitness classes and had some interesting experiences the last few weeks. So ummm, let me tell you about them:


I had a Groupon a few months ago for Bikram Yoga and I attended a few classes. If you don’t know what it is, it’s where people voluntarily decide to put their bodies in weird positions in a room where temperature reached 105 degrees. I can’t even touch my toes, but I tried my best in those classes. By the time the 90-minutes sessions were done, I was drenched in sweat and light-headed- surely that counts for an additional 500 calories burned, right? After my coupon expired, I had no reason to go back, but a friend asked if I would join her for another hot yoga class closer to my house a couple of weeks ago. Since I got a 2-for 1 deal, I signed up. I’m thinking, I did this before, it should not be a problem…

WRONG. It wasn’t Bikram yoga, it was just regular yoga in 200 degrees! Most people think this would be easier ( I was one of those people), and I was sorely mistaken- literally. The room seemed to be hotter than the one I was in previously, and on top of that, I was expected to downward dog every 5 minutes. Newsflash- I have T-Rex arms, and this means they are short and not supportive in any way. My arms were shaking like a Polaroid picture, and I just knew I was going to faceplant on my yoga mat at any given moment during the class. I made it through with a few “oommms”, but that class nearly killed me.


Another girlfriend of mine convinced a group of us to join her for her monthly “Vixen” dance class this past weekend. I had heard about it before, but was hesitant to join. Looking up the class online, I almost laughed. They seemed to take themselves waaaay to seriously, even calling themselves an “army” of vixen dancers put on this Earth to twerk. There were rules to abide by when attending the class, like wearing sneaker wedges if possible and putting on your favorite lipstick so you could stare at yourself in the mirror while you dropped it like it’s hot. Oh, and no pushing is allowed to the front of the room- everyone should be respectful of all the other vixens in the class. WTF?  I also didn’t think I could take a video girl dancing class seriously that didn’t have any um, sistas, as dance instructors. But I went anyway…

Uh, I was sorely mistaken. First of all, the class is proof that booty poppin’ goes across all color lines- these girls were THE BUSINESS. Shout out to all the girls at the Vixen class, because I never worked so hard to shake it in my life. You would have thought Beyonce was up there teaching people how to get low ( there was the obligatory ‘Yonce music montage of course). There was a lot of dropping it to the floor ( I did it too much and caught a calf sprain), sticking it out, and rolling it around. Not to mention there were about 1,000 girls in a small room with no lights. As we went in the class, it looked as if Miami was holding a casting call for the next Drake and ‘Lil Wayne video, because there were so many girls. By the time I got up off the floor at the end, I was also drenched in sweat, but I also had a blast. I also went to brunch right after ( who’s 30?!), so I’m still a work in progress. Prince, I’m coming for you…


One thought on “When Dove Bars Cry, Part Deux

  1. Cheryl Bynum says:

    Cousin!! As always, this was hilarious!!!! LOL!!!! Thank you for the many laughs, I truly needed them. Love you much!!!😘. And keep up the good work 👍

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