Find my latest posts on my new Substack page: The Wily Scribe.
See you on the other side, friends!
To Substack She Goes!
Tunneling
We descend into ourselves
T
u
n
n
e
l
i
n
g
For greatness
For strength
For some meaning that will define our reason for being.
We
T
u
n
n
e
l
For hope
For allyship
that doesn’t sail off at the first sign of
sacrifice
For understanding.
Descent is but a journey to
Greatness
a
n
d
Triumph.
We descend into the deepest pits of chaos
and
R
I
S
E
Wreathed in diamonds —- from
the —- deep.
@thewilyscribe
#WindowPoetry #poetry
Travel Hacks and Pro Tips
Essential Tips for Traveling with a Baby
Traveling with a baby could have broken us as a family, but early on, my husband and I decided to track the pieces that kept us sane. Today, we share these resources with you with the request that you pass on the love to other families in need. It takes a village to raise children. Pass on the love, folks!
Cringing Through the Pain for Beauty
The Dove Beauty Campaigns have done a wonderful job of shining a light on the overly touched up impossible standards of beauty in today’s society; unfortunately, we’re not listening. We say we care about the message but are still primping, stenciling, straightening, and contouring our reflections to appear as superior “perfect” selves. When we don ten thousand pounds of make up, we’re not Danielle, Elizabeth, or Stephanie. We’re Danielle 2.0 5.0, Elizabeth the vixen, and Stephanie the flawless who can stop a man dead in his tracks.
I personally am not one for make-up, but like most women I am concerned with how I appear to outsiders. You know. Those people staring at you on the street looking at your hair and wondering why you didn’t blow dry it this morning. Those critical haters who glance down at your feet and hold their gaze because they specifically knew you stepped out of the house without a pedicure. How dare you. Those workout junkies who size up your physique right after you had that double bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries not even caring that the meat was grass-fed and that your waiter “told” you everything was organic. Those people. And by “those people” I mean all of us. We have all critiqued someone walking down the street and thanked the Lord we were not “them.”
This oober keen awareness of self prompted me to improve my outer appearance and try out teeth whitening. My teeth aren’t incredibly yellow, but I received free teeth whitening from my dentist and thought, “Why not? It’s free! Everyone needs a little upkeep.” If I could go back now, I would have dropped that crack-like syringe and told my dentist to shove it.
It all seemed so safe. Dab a small droplet into the whitening tray (one dab per tooth) and then slip the mold into my mouth. Wear for 45 painless minutes or keep it on the whole night for a better brighter you. Repeat every two days.
Day 1: Followed steps like a pro and left on for 45 minutes. A little tingly afterwards, but no sweat!
Day 2: (A week later because I forgot) Followed steps like a pro and left on for three hours. Tingling sensation, but extra sensitive toothpaste stopped the pain in its tracks.
Day 3: Followed steps like a pro and left on for the whole night. Huge mistake.
Awaken by a sharp pain in the front of my mouth, my eyes shot open and quickly glared at the alarm clock. Four o’ clock in the morning. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the pain kept nagging me. After ten minutes, I finally convinced myself to get up and take out the whitening trays and rinse off the gel. What started as a vague ache and momentary pain turned into tear jerking torture. Every gasp for air felt as though I was sipping ice cold water increasing the terrifying twinge. I raced to Walgreens and purchased more Sensodyne, coworkers sprinted to Winn Dixie to grab Orajel in an effort to settle the rising beast that is within my 5’1.5″ body (yes, I added a half-inch. It counts.), and students sang and danced for their forlorn teacher who could not for the life of her smile without cringing. I wanted to scream, “Kill me. Please be so kind as to pull out every single tooth. Start at the front!”
After eight hours of rubbing Orajel on my gums like an addict looking for her next fix, I have given up my fight for a perfectly blinding white smile, and those people, those bystanders who choose to look at my smile and wonder how many glasses of red wine I partake in can transfix their gazes somewhere else. Being trapped behind pearly whites that felt like daggers was hardly my idea of beauty. I have to admit though- it is a bit comical how sometimes it takes pain for us to realize how idiotic our attempts at perfection are. This time, hopefully, I’ve learned my lesson.
Drinking the Orange Kool-Aid
Somewhere in our twenties, most of us feel our metabolism slowing and our hangovers worsening. Our jeans fit tighter and somehow muffin tops appear visibly in the mirror. The age of partying without consequence has come to a depressing halt that we swear appeared too quickly and without warning.
Instead of reminiscing about our nights of back to back bingers sans head-splitting hangover headaches, we become obsessed with thinking we can do it all. Sure, we can have midweek happy hours that last a bit too long and still make it to work the next morning. We can definitely take those four shots to the head like in college, down a few beers, and wake up ready to rage again. Workout after drinking like a fish? Why not? Low metabolism or not, we can accomplish anything because we are in our twenties and we demand it dammit!
We refuse to give up our drinking, so the only alternative is working out more frequently and harder than we ever have before. If those love handles are going to disappear, it’s going to take more than a walk to the bar down the street. You are actually going to have to sweat. Yeah, I said it. Salty water is going to seep through your pores and make you stink worse than that kid on the bus that refused to wear deodorant. As we are a people who thrive on trends, I fell kettle bell first into Crossfit and began box jumping, power squatting, and rope climbing my way to being fit.
After spending a few months letting Crossfit Coconut Grove sculpt my bod into the best shape I’ve ever been in, I took a break.
My ego thought, ” I can do this on my own! I can save money, run a couple of days a week, and still maintain my flat stomach.” Nope. Sure I held onto my fine physique for a solid four months of doing nothing, but those last five months revealed the love handles of my worst nightmare and I accepted defeat. For the past month I have been trying to come up with workouts on my own to get back into the amazing shape of my quickly fading past, and yesterday, I discovered a workout that can do just that. A spunky blond I met two weeks ago named Jen told me about a workout called Orange Theory Fitness that was similar to Crossfit but more cardio based. Was it possible? Being that not enough cardio was my only qualm with Crossfit, I knew I had to drink the orange Kool-Aid and try this class out.
I visited the Orange Theory Fitness studio in Coral Gables on Salzedo and was immediately overwhelmed by how many treadmills I saw. It looked like a small room from the outside, but boy do they maximize their space! I admit I cringed a bit when I read some of the reviews online about other locations not having showers, but that’s not a problem at the Coral Gables location.
The machines were brand new and state of the art. Easy to use touch-screen treadmills, water rowers, and a clean fitness mat with weights not covered in grit welcomed you along with the much welcomed air conditioner. Thank God for air conditioning! My instructor, Craig, made me feel comfortable and still knew how to push me as a new client. The part I like most was being able to constantly see how hard I was pushing myself. According to my trainer, customers should complete at least 20-35 minutes in the green zone and between 18-22 minutes combined in orange and red (where you are training at 84% or higher of your maximum heart rate) so that your metabolism will increase for the next day or two. Not only can you see how you did at the end of class, they email it to you!
Instead of sitting on my couch and convincing myself that I’ll just “workout tomorrow,” my body still feels alive after a full day of work and even a beer. (Monk in the Trunk is the best. AND it’s organic so it has to be good for you, right?) If you love a workout with tons of cardio that enables you to keep working out even after you’ve stepped out of the gym, I truly recommend you try Orange Theory Fitness. Hitting my mid-twenties doesn’t mean a slower metabolism and weight that won’t budge. My metabolism came out of hiding with Orange Theory and I can’t wait to see how my body transforms over the next few months. Now…if only I could resist beer. Nah. That’s asking too much.
The Wily Scribe 