love be a cellulite cream | Mitzi Moments

and it don’t stop…

By Mitzi on May 26, 2009 in i'm not ready to be a grandmother, it's in the genes, love be a cellulite cream

So the morning after the wedding, I was so exhausted there are no words to describe. You know that borderline hysterical, everything hurts from the ends of my matted hair to the chipped tips of my toenails type feeling? Where you really, really wanna cry but there’s no rational reason to do so? Yeah, that’s where I was with it.

But since it was my BFFs fantastic 44th birthday, I had to drag my ass down to APT to help her properly ring in another year. And lemme tell you, Joan Morgan is beyond. She was working the most scandalous sequined mini and wearing down the dance floor like it was the 80s. Shoot, if this is how good it’s gonna look 10 years from now I can’t wait.

consider my sweat your gift…

By Mitzi on March 18, 2009 in cuteness kills, love be a cellulite cream, miracle on 169th street, pocket full of dirty tissue, too old for the road

As of today there are t-minus 67 days until Toya’s super sexy 2nd wedding. And since my lil mini-me has decided that she wants her bridesmads to wear specially designed super short, very low-cut, fitted cocktail dresses, Operation Pull-It-Together is in full effect.

First, there were three weeks of the crazy 6.30a bootcamp workout to jump start the mission. Although I’ve done bootcamp in the past, that sure didn’t make going back remotely easier. Real talk? I still don’t know how I managed to wake up and get out of my house by 6.10am 4-days a week. ‘Cause if you don’t know anything else about me, please understand this: I am not the one for the early mornings. But praise god, somehow we made it through. And now, I’ve committed to daily hot yoga and at least 4 days of cardio at the gym.

Okay, bump what you heard about feeling more relaxed, detoxed and zen-like after bikram yoga. I’m gonna keep it real- that b.s. is kicking my ass coming and going. Seriously? I feel like 2 cents. From my toenails to my scalp, every inch of my body hurts. I can barely make it home before falling on my face. Ain’t nothing relaxed, or zen-like about me. And let’s not even talk about the gym… OMG, this morning I was on the elliptical machine for 15 minutes sweating and heaving louder than the 350lb woman on the machine next to me. Mind you, my resistance level was only 5. WTF?

So the next time you wanna know why I’m not thrilled to be in one of my very closest friend’s wedding, lemme tell you- it’s not the money on a dress I can only wear to a club in Miami or Vegas. It’s not the hours of my life lost stuffing envelopes with save-the-date cards. Or even the big ass hole homegirl has talked in my head with all the wedding day drama. Nope, all that is water under the bridge. The core issue is the damage control.

It’s trying to find a waistline that I haven’t seen since the summer of ’08. It’s eating an orange when what I really want is a warm chocolate chip cookie (or two). It’s the bars of deordorant that I’m going through trying to hide the constant state of stink I find myself in. Dammit, I’m tapped out!

For the record, I will so not be offended if any of my peeps decide that they don’t want to be in my wedding (whenever the hell that actually happens) because they’re soft and squishy. Just keep it real. Not only will I understand, I promise to save you a second slice of the cake.

somebody needs to smack fire out that lil boy…

By Mitzi on March 6, 2009 in desperate cry for help, love be a cellulite cream, taking it one day at a time, why we as a people can't get ahead

So there I was minding my business trying to read up on this new nine minute miracle cellulite cream (that quietly, I’m sooo about to spend a $100 dollars on as soon as this recession ends) when I heard about the Chris Brown/ Rihanna beatdown incident report. And I have to tell you, after reading the entire report- this is so not okay.

Dude, Chris Brown beat Rihanna like she was a straight up stranger. Like forreal, forreal? Bouncing her head off of the car window, punching her in the eye, the head, the arm, leg AND then biting her? What in the hell? Did he momnetarily lose his mind and confuse for a car jacker? I’m just saying… Cause I just can’t comprehend what in the unholy domestic violence hell this punkass 19 year old was thinking when he threatened to “really beat your ass when we get home!” Word? Forget what you heard, that little dancing fool needs to go sitdown in a jail for at least six months to think about what he did to the woman he’s steady professing to love.

Oh and no Kanye et al, I do not think he deserves another chance. At all. So be clear, if I hear any of ya’ll enabling ass celebs come out and support him, I’m boycotting you too.

And I intend to start the prayer vigil for Rih-Rih and her sense of self-worth ASAP… cause clearly despite all the fame and money, there’s something missing in her life. And whatever it is, it compells her to return to a relationship w/ a man who beat that ass like a dude because HIS MESSY BEHIND got caught with the inapropriate 3-page text from the sidechick. Can I get an amen?

don’t let the spandex fool ya…

By Mitzi on February 24, 2009 in cuteness kills, it ain't easy, love be a cellulite cream

My god when is the summer coming? This cold weather is K-I-L-L-I-N-G me I tell you.

It’s gotten so bad, I don’t even believe the sunshine when I see it. It’s like: yeah, yeah, yeah all them blue skies and rays of light are just trickery to get me to leave my warm and toasty apartment for the frigid outdoors. Damn that. Like I always say, can’t nothing good happen below 75 degrees.

On the flipside, in anticipation of the day I actually get to wear a sundress or pair of shorts, I’ve decided to re-enlist in my local bootcamp workout program- AGAIN (http://www.truecontrolfitness.com/). Yeah, yeah, I know, why in the world would my lazy ass voluntary wake up at 5.30a just to be worked out like an endentured slave for 90 minutes four days a week? Ummm…. cause bootcamp is way cheaper than replacing the cute clothes. And there’s nothing uglier than the ill fitting baby-t. Mmm-hmm, exactly.

Thankfully, this program is only three weeks long (as opposed to the normal six week session). So praise the Lord, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Sorta…. Check back in with me next week after we’ve hit the track to do countless wind sprints and I attempt to run a mile and a half in under twelve minutes.

Pray for me ya’ll…

3 miles is mad far…

By Mitzi on December 9, 2008 in it ain't easy, love be a cellulite cream, using our powers for good

Ever complain about something so much, the very sound of your own voice starts to become annoying? Well that’s exactly the point my girl Toya and I reached about our recent “I’m so happy all I do is eat” weight gain last week Wednesday.

Cause truth be told, most folks battle with those annoying ‘last 5 lbs’ when life is good. But that 7th or 8th pound? Those are beyond annoying. Those are the straight game changers. Let me explain: With 5lbs, your jeans might rub btwn the thighs and leave embarrassing indenture marks on your waist. With an extra 8lbs, your ass is popping buttons and begging the doctor to deduct a pound from the scale for the paper gown and sweat socks! See? It’s too much.

I know, I know, in the grand scheme of things, 8 lbs is nothing when people everywhere are dealing with much more serious weight/ health issues. Look at poor Oprah for Chrissake… all that money and home girl is tipping the scale at 200lbs??? Uh, uh you got more people than this O. Speaking of which, where is Gail? Why isn’t her trifling behind taking the cookies out of the cupboard? But I digress.

I assure you, this is bigger than simple vanity. This is really about being a bunch of lazy cheap asses. Hoenstly, with the economy going down the shitter, who da hell has the extra $175 to replace a pair of jeans just cause you couldn’t say no to that chocolate souffle at Campo? Mmm-hmmm, I didn’t think so.

With that said, Toya and I came up with the bright idea to train for a 5K run. We figure if there’s something to accomplish, we’ll stay on our workout/ better eating habit regiment forreal, forreal this time. Sounds believable, right?

Well here’s the thing, she and I are both instant gratification whores that can’t wait longer than two seconds or we’re off the little red wagon. So we’ve decided to stage our very own race and even picked a date (drumroll, please)- THIS Saturday, December 16th.

Yes, you read that correctly. 10 days from the initial conversation and a mere 2 days from now, Toya, myself and I about six other mutual girlfriends who generally only run to sample sales and from the rain after getting the hair did (you didn’t really think we were going to put ourselves through this craziness alone did you??) will be running/ walking/ dragging our behinds around NYC’s Central Park Resevoir in the freezing cold in the 1st ever Race To Save Our Thighs 5K Run to raise awareness to the fact that cuteness kills.

You love it, right?

from 1 normal person to another…

By Mitzi on December 4, 2008 in love be a cellulite cream

True to my word, I did manage to watch the VS show last night. I must say, it was much, much better than I expected – even if I didn’t get a glimpse of Karolina’s missing belly button.

I liked the backstage action-especially when one model’s costume zipper popped right 4 seconds before the finale and every damn body started freaking out. I am def loving the high-waisted undies. Although we should all be clear that w/o a flat tummy those will look crazy. And whomever that beautiful brown girl with the bangs is (Jessica White?), she’s officially my new girl crush for ’09.

Howsomever, as expected there were some undeniably questionable aspects to the broadcast- starting with like the ridiculous amount of Heidi Klum air time. Sure ole girl’s English is much improved thanks to the past 4 seasons of Project Runway, but there is a reason she says all of five sentences per episode. And not to start no mess but am I the only one that noticed that Usher “I-only-sung-2-songs-but-I’m-dripping-in-sweat” Raymond was performing sans wedding band? Mmmm-hmmm, I’m just calling it like I see it. Oh and last but not least, I definitely could’ve done without the montage of models discussing the ‘lamest pick-up lines guys have ever tried on them’. Talking about, “Just say hi, my name is…. A formal introduction never fails to impress. We’re just like the normal people…” Really sweetie? Are you just like the normal people?

time to ride out…

By Mitzi on November 14, 2008 in love be a cellulite cream

Well, lookee here- seems the saddlebags have it. A solid 63% would rather have (or date) a woman who bears the burden of stretch-marked saddlebags than deal with a noticeably flat butt. Mmm-hmm… I know that’s right.

‘Cause here’s the thing, no matter how fantastic the 36% of your legs look, nothing in the world overrides flatback (just ask Paris Hilton or Cameron Diaz). There are no miracle jeans tight enough to hide the fact that your neck runs into your ankles. And I’m not even gonna go there with the bikini bottoms…. I mean what are you gonna do, keep your back to the wall your entire life? No sir. All I can do is wish you good luck and an interesting collection of thongs.

As for me and my saddlebags… Well, we’ll be wearing Spanx and running on the treadmill until we straight collapse like Isaac Hayes- no offense. And if God forbid, that lifetime supply of Fatgirl Slim cellulite cream really doesn’t make a difference, there’s always dim lighting and dermabrasion.

press play…

By Mitzi on November 6, 2008 in love be a cellulite cream

It looks like the voyeurists have it- 57% were A-okay with being immortalized on video as long as you retained full custody of the tape (wait, are they even tapes nowadays?). And what can I say? If you like it, I love it. So by all means, go ahead and get your Paris on. I think it’s fantastic that your self esteem is that unshakable. Just please be sure to try and tone those soft and squishy parts before hand to avoid unnecessary jiggle (if it’s a spontaneous decision- dim the lights), DO NOT look into the camera (nothing says faked orgasm like having one eye open), and for god’s sake find a safe hiding place for the memory cards (I’m thinking a bank safe deposit box is probably most appropriate).

In the meantime, until I completely forget all the hometraining that Elsa painstakingly instilled (with a very wide leather belt), I’m sticking with the 42% who don’t need physical proof of our ability to turn it out. First and foremost because I genuinely believe memories are the best pictures (isn’t it funny how you never remember the cellulite when reminiscing on good times?). But also because, as many of my friends know, I tend to be a bit of an overachiever. Which is fine when you’re talking about work and team sports (who doesn’t want to win?). But for something like this, not so much. Knowing myself, I’d wind up overanalyzing instead of appreciating the whole act. I can hear myself now: Do you think my back was arched enough? Does that color bra makes me look fat? Are my knees ashy?

Sigh, it’s way too much pressure.

if i only gain 5lbs…

By Mitzi on October 26, 2008 in love be a cellulite cream

I will be beyond a lucky camper. I have eaten so much over this past weekend, I am scared to try on my safety jeans- you know the ones that are 3 sizes too big, made entirely of cheap spandex and that you pack just in case (as it often will with my greedy behind) the eating gets out of control? I am so about to be the one woman Sisterhood of the Traveling Sweats as I hustle back to NYC this morning.

The best thing about going to visit good friends that live far away is the building excitement. The worst thing? The letdown when it’s time to leave. Whenever I arrive at the airport, I always feel like the bad seven year-old totally pouty and unable to grasp the concept that we’ll see each other again. I hate good-byes. Damn a new iPhone, when is Apple going create travel portals so that I can get back and forth in the blink of an eye?

watch your back…

By Mitzi on September 11, 2008 in love be a cellulite cream

Okay, so let’s keep it all the way live. The REAL reason that I hate the fall is because it is the inevitable time of reckoning between me and my damn jeans. I swear, I can go an entire late spring/ summer without ONCE wearing a pair of jeans- nothing but dresses, skirts and shorts for yours truly. But come September, the gig is up. And there is NOTHING worse than trying to pull up those “safety” jeans (you know the ones that should ALWAYS fit, come hell or heavy period) and them feeling extra snug on the thighs. That pinch of the button and the inevitable soft-squishy spillage over the top EVEN when you’re holding your break reduces even the most resillient/ SECRET reading/ I love my body self-esteem to shambles.

As if the self esteem damage wasn’t enough, it also forces me to make the hard choices- should I kiss the extra dinner/drinks money good bye and purchase new jeans that fit comfortably OR get back on the crazy workout plan and kiss the actual dinner/drinks good bye (’cause who has the energy at the end of the day).

Sigh, what’s a curvy girl to do?

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