"i like the way it hurts..."

Are you kidding me?  ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME?  I am no fan of pain, my friends, and yet I find myself in a world that tends to glorify it for the sake of false illusions of validity. 

Let me back up...

I am pumped about The Mission 2010, so I went to my first boot camp class on Friday, with my new found friend Leah.  I was supposed to get there early, but the doors were locked and it was dark up until about 2 mintues before the class...didn't instill confidence in me.  Then the instructor beefcake man wouldn't even LOOK at me while he was printing out my waiver!  He was obviously way too cool to talk to a fatty, or acted that way.  Unimpressed, I began the workout and yes, it was difficult.  I was dying after only the first few rounds, and when doing push ups, I figured this was only going to make me stronger.  Ewww.  Turns out kids, you CAN push too hard in a work out.  Saturday, my whole body was sore, but I expected that.  My arms hurt pretty bad, worse than I've ever felt before, so I took a little ibuprofen to help reduce the swelling.  HA!  Sunday comes around and I literally can't lift my arm to my face or neck.  NOT KIDDING!  I was in so much pain that it made me extremely naseous.  I woke up with a migrane just becuse of how much my triceps hurt.  Now, mind you, the rest of my body was in pretty good pain, too, but I tell ya what....

I don't know what I'll tell you, just that I was in a lot of pain.

So lately a new song has come on the radio, and despite the fact that I really like the song, I am completely disturbed by the content and overall message.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uelHwf8o7_U

It's Rihanna's new song, featuring Eminem.  It's all about a very dysfunctional and abusive relationship highlighted by the violent rap-based musings of one of the most angry-sounding artists of all time.  Do I like the song?  Heck yeah!  It's got a great sound, and I like the juxtaposition of her voice and his.  But are you kidding me?  Did the headlines, not a year ago, NOT have pictures of Rihanna beat to a pulp by her boyfriend?  Am I missing something?   Why is the glorification of domestic violence OK?  I realize this is not new, but I've never seen it so BLATANT before.  Line from the song:
"I know I'm a liar, if she ever tries to f-ing leave again, I'm gonna tie her to the bed and set this house on fire." 

Ahhh!  Really?  Does this kind of messed up shiz happen?  Of course, we all know it does.  But why is it suddenly the "cool way" to have things go down?  All of a sudden, you have young love gleaming with the disturbing light of cold steel, hot temper and gunpowder.  What is ok about this scene?

So what, I'm another prude bemoaning the degredation of some semblance of national morality.  I am still pretty young, yet I can see how there is a dellusion that if your reltionship is real, if it is valid, thus if YOU are valid, then you have to have an increased element of DRAMA.  At first, it came in the form of mean girls creating drama to see who could be the most valid.  Or it's guys getting into trouble with the law, competing for validity in other twisted ways.  Now, combine the two, and you have relationships fraught with sheer violence and terror, and it's sexualized, to boot. 

At first I thought maybe the song was some type of commentary, or an expose on the ravages of violence in intimate settings.  Maybe this was a way to illustrate what is a pervasive and sick trend in dating and courthship.  In fact, I hoped, because of last years' headlines, that Rihanna may be creating a social commentary decrying violence, especially towards women.  If that was the aim, it missed BIG TIME.  Instead, the video betrays any social consciousness by having sexy Megan Fox in flashing scenes of intensely sexual/ pseudo-romantic encounters layered inbetween shots of hitting, pushing, grabbing, breaking, etc.  Don't forget the fire in the background, representing the violence of love and the violence of ...well...violence.  All the while Rihanna is singing "I like the way it hurts..."

Is that where we are?  We like pain because somehow it gives us validity?  I can tell you, I didn't feel any more valid with arms that hurt so bad I couldn't sleep because every time I moved the pain was excruciating.  I am sick of the romantization of the masochistic woman.  What century are we in, people?  Are we liberated women or what?  Aren't we over the damsel in distress?  Even if you want to tell a story as  social commentary vis a vis: "I'm not glorifying violence, I'm just a mirror showing how the world is.." I call B.S.  There is money to be made showing young people pictures of how they, too, can achieve infamy by merely entering into a shallow relationship with all the dressings of a deep and passionate relationship, but with none of the responsibility and all of the selfishness either partner can muster. 

And that's the bee in my bonnet, Western Ohio.  (Let's all just laugh at Sue Sylvester...how I love you JL!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNGFqqVk1ZM

The Mission: bigger mission smaller outcome

This mission promises to be the biggest, most challenging one yet!  Have I tried to pear-down the chub before, yes!  Has it always worked?  NEVER!  The chub remains the bane of my existence and the reason I cry fortnightly, bemoaning the fact that my cute husband could never love a chub like me....but alas!  The mission has arrived.  This mission will finish smaller than any mission before because this one is going to WORK and STICK!!!

Ok, step back.  I have known I was...ahem, built big since I was about 4 years old.  Not especially fat as a child, I still hated the fact that I was fleshy-er than my comrades.  This turned into a downright obsession by the time I was 12 years old, and since then, I have been exercising, dieting, reading everything I could about calories, carbs, protien, muscle, hormones, good food, bad food, burning calories, consuming less calories, consuming the right calories, etc. etc. etc.  ad nausium.  I have even read how all this reading makes me fatter, and how dieting always backfires, so I should just make a more moderate approach for success.

So, at that point, I said, "ok, no more focusing on what I eat, I will just eat what I want."  That turned pear-shaped (no pun intended) very quickly so then I decided to keep track of what I ate (as if I hadn't tried that before) again, this time online for convenience sake.  The problem is, once you have consumed cookies and white bread for breakfast, you pretty much know your day is shot, so then you don't keep track.  Two years and too many pounds to admit later, here I am. 

In my defense, I must say that the jump from pleasantly plump to whatever I am now (please don't make me name it...even clinically it is terrifying) came directly after starting law school, getting married, moving, having my laptop stolen, more school, etc.  It kind of just happened.  Like winter gives way to spring, I ever-so-subtly gave way to my muffin top until suddenly my "fat pants" were too small!  arrrrggg! 

Also, the good news is that I do like to be active.  Well, not all the time.  I don't care who you are, Gillian Michaels, you don't ALWAYS feel up for busting it in they gym or pounding the pavement, even with the promise of the euphoric post-workout adrenaline rush.  But working hard physically is generally an area that I'm ok with.  I can sit and watch Biggest Loser and be like, "hell yeah, I would suffer through this work out!"  I systematically cry with every contestant's confession of how sick they are of being chubby; the sad irony is that I cry right into my pint of Ben & Jerry's. 

Ah, Ben and Jerry.  The twins I affectionately hold in my stomach, despite the fact that I am very un-pregnant.  How you elude me in my quest for happiness as you dualy promise great creamy and chunky chewy goodness whilst chaining me to the ever-expanding waistline! 

But I digress.  Without further ado, the MISSION:
1.  Upon my turning 30 (woo, woo!) no more sugar, candy, dessert, cake, cookies, ice cream (sigh), pie, pudding, snack bars, sugar drinks, soda, popcorn, chocolate, etc. for a WHOLE YEAR!
2.  As soon as possible, embark on a hard-core, super focused Boot Camp type program where I work my guts out to jump start my mission.  Said Boot Camp will last at least 6 weeks. 
3.  Upon completion of the six week Boot Campy style program, continue working out 6 days a week for at least an hour or more per session.  This continues basically for the rest of my life. 
4.  Addendum as deemed proper and inaccordance with the principles of the overall mission. 

I'm going to my first boot-camp class on Friday, and if I live to tell the tale, I will set the date for that program to start.  Now, as for the sugar, I'm gonna go cold turkey.

And to all you nay-sayers out there, I say you watch.  Just watch me do it, and you'll eat your dirty words of doubt!  HAHA! *enter maniacal laughter. 

Peace,
Warr

I hate facebook / I am my own brand.

And thus my blog is born. Hello Lovers! After losing sleep over what to call my blog, I've decided to let you all know that this is the BEST BLOG IN THE WORLD! BW. Bethany Warr=Best blog in the World! Ah, I know. I've always wanted to fit into a nice little chinsy category like "luv2bake" or "seriouslysoblessed" (shout out to TAMN) or "lovefromUtah" but I...I...I just can't. I'm Bethany. Bethany Warr. BW. I am my own brand and I'm not apologizing for it. And since I consider myself an expert at branding (ok, I took a few classes as part of my journalism/public relations major) I decided differentiation is key, and I'm sticking with a simple, straightforward sell of what this blog is: All Bethany All the Time.

For those who don't know me, you may be saying, "so what's the big deal?" I'm glad you asked that. You should care what I have to say because I know enough to know I don't know very much, and that makes me the best candidate of all! I'm smart, but not TOO smart, cute but not sexy, funny but not hilarious, friendly but sassy, honorably good but delightfully wicked, well-informed yet completely clueless. You get the picture, I won't go on with sickening similies.

Another reason to be my own brand is that I can't fit my blog into a catchphrase because this blog is about NOTHING! (think George Costanza from Seinfeld pitching his show to NBC). This will be a memoir, travel blog, current events commentary, occasional expose on the evils of society to which I am privy, food review, diet diary (ugh), etc. etc. etc. This is where you can find a refreshing blend of fiction and reality; a delightful review of hard-knocks yet footloose-and-fancy-free moments of bliss. See? Nothing on the surface but everything if you really think about it. Ahhh, how very Buddhist of me.

Ok, as for the somber part. I hate facebook. There, I said it. I hate it. Hate almost as much as I hate the cougars from you-know-where. Who even cares what you're doing right now? Not me, especially because I haven't seen you for 10 years (or more) and even when I knew you, we weren't especially close. I realize how hypocritical this may sound since I'm spouting off into the dark abyss of the world wide web, hoping that someone reads my mental meanderings via blog. But I am the exception for several reasons 1) a blog is something you won't see unless you want to, 2) not to be concieted, but I actually have funny and cool things to say, 3) you'll feel better once you read how much of a slacker I really am.

It makes me feel all kinds of weired that people can look in on my life. At first, since I love getting attention, I was like "cool! everyone can look at my pretty wedding pictures!" But since then, I have luckily matured and realized I only like attention from the people I like....people I like NOT including all my facebook "friends."

Don't get me wrong. There are people on there I absolutely heart (for old people, this is how the youngins say "love") and like staying in touch with, and for that reason alone I stay on the stupid time-waster extraordinaire. Old college roomies, true kindred friends with whom I've lost touch...these are the reasons facebook should exist. But I hate this whole post-everything-I-do-at-every-second-and-amass-as-many-fake-friends-as-possible frenzy taking over human relationships. Do you know lots of divorcees last year (don't know the stat but I'll look it up) cited "facebook" as the reason for their divorce? YUCK! What are we DOING on there, people? Don't even get me started on Tweeting. Are you serious?

Because I am well on my way to becoming a professional slacker, not only do I not care about what you had for lunch, I don't take time to read blogs. This is sad, because there are actually blogs I want to read, but can't be bothered to wake up from my upteenth nap of the week to do so. And so, with a hint of sarcasm, yet hopeful that I will reciprocate with reading your blog, I present BETHANY WARR-THE BEST BLOG IN THE WORLD!