Tag Archives: Humor

Frenemies. Love to loathe them.

7 Mar
My Frenemy

My Frenemy (Photo credit: andymangold)

Alright. Let’s talk about Frenemies.

This post is dedicated to all the men in my life. If you are a man, most likely a friend of mine reading this, I’m about to share with you a very helpful tip on REALLY understanding women. If you are a woman reading this, you will thank me for sharing with our male companions who can, sadly have moments of complete non-self awareness. You can throw this in his face and say ‘SEE?  You feel me now?!’

This was a hot topic with a few girlfriends of mine as I shared with them my big time angst moment of my hubs absolutely peeving me off in an argument that had to do with a Frenemy of mine. An argument he will never win. He did the most unthinkable thing you should never do when it comes a wife’s Frenemy: He complimented the F-ing Frenemy. In fact, he told her how great she looked  and blah blah blah he just totally went there.  So now I feel like its my duty to share. I was deeply encouraged to post this.

Let’s first define a Frenemy so we don’t lose each other here.

A FRENEMY is someone maybe in your current life, or past, usually from your childhood where you’ve always secretly disliked growing up. There’s an old history between you two. You know, your not so publicized nemesis you have an immense hate-on for, and it’s usually both ways that you feel this way about each other. And it ain’t good warm feelings. No way. Instead they are feelings of shitness: I-can’t-stand-you-and- everything-you-say-or-do-I-think-you-suck-ass-and-can’t-believe-OUR-common friend-likes you-for-some-warped-reason. So it remains to be this fake interaction as it has to be to keep some peace.

You simply dislike this Frenemy, always have, and most likely always will. And it’s because it’s so deep-rooted, as it goes way back to the memories of your early teens or precious young years of growing up.  You can’t let go of that time how they tried to F you over in school, or when they tried to throw you under the bus because of their selfish ways to always want to win, or the time they were so competitive and jealous of you because they couldn’t stand your success in any way, as your happiness ate them alive inside. If they weren’t #1, then everyone else had to eat shit. The Frenemy is the opposite of who you consider yourself as a person today. Opposite of your core values, and perhaps that is the reason they drive you insane and you can’t help but judge them constantly.

But the ‘FRE’ is there for a very sad and frustrating reason. You most likely still have that common Friend, or common social circle and you’ve managed to somehow never leave each other’s lives because of this unfortunate bond you can’t seem to control, change or sadly break off. Therefore the Frenemy is your secret hate on for each other that has never been publicly announced (because yes you are civil and mature) and it has to be that way so it never gets anymore awkward than it already is when you have to socialize with them, when really, all  you just want to do is prance on them like a cat and pull their hair when something really offensive comes out of their mouth!

I find Frenemies fascinating because somehow with all the life experiences being in your thirty’s, acting as a mature adult (in most cases), one can’t seem to let go of the angst you feel towards them. It stays with you, this deep emotional anchor that will never leave you when you interact with them. It just lingers there, like how victims of bullying must feel even when they grow older. It just doesn’t ever really go away.

So back to our men. A few rules for you if you want to save yourself from a future emotionally exhausting argument with your wife or girlfriend that you will never win and can totally be avoided but only if you listen carefully.

Rule 1. Never, and I mean NEVER in front of your girlfriend or your wife pay the Frenemy a compliment. Even if you really mean it. Which is even worse. Inside, your woman’s blood is boiling, her ears start steaming and you won’t know what’s going on until she blows her shit up on you as soon as you get into  private corridors. It’s just not smart dude. The Frenemy NEVER deserves credit! Your woman needs to feel that your alliance to her is exactly that- Loyalty is such an important thing. We don’t want Frenemies to feel good about themselves ever no way! It’s karma for all the credits they tried or still try to steal from you. Even if you don’t know what the F is going on, just trust her and just please go with it. God, it’s not rocket science.

Rule 2.  Don’t you dare get all self-righteous and bust out the 10 commandments and start lecturing your gf/wife of how this ‘hatred has CONSUMED her’ and how ‘Forgiveness‘ is to let go. Omg. If you do this, I must warn you that, at this point, she just might go ape shit on you and you will be responsible of creating some evil wrath you never knew they were capable of. And that will be all you fault.

Rule 3. Can’t you just TRUST your woman’s judgement? I mean if there is any reason why your loving, amazing, positive wife/gf, might just really dislike someone is for um a REALLY GOOD reason. Don’t ever pull the “well she was nice to me and I don’t see what you mean about her” For crap’s sake, you’re really judging their character in all of 2 mere meaningless social encounters? Pulease. I mean the German nazi followers loved Hitler. So that must mean he was alright. geesh.

And so that is it folks. Very simple rules, follow them and you’ll avoid world war III 🙂 My wonderful man learned the hard way. And I guess because he’s so loving and see’s the world in clear, big beautiful eyes, it’s not his fault.

Whatever, it totally is.


Youngabunga! xo


skinny bitch. T-4 weeks.

10 Jul

I cannot believe I’m getting married in 4 weeks. I mean where in the world did fall, winter, spring go that let us to this day as I type these words with t-4 weeks left until we say ‘I do’! Crazy.

But I’m so excited!, WE’RE excited. Everyday I’m reminding Chris that soon we’ll be in Maui getting married at Sunset then surfing plenty on the waves and the only thing we’ll need to worry about is not bringing enough sunblock. Life is good my friends when this just might be the only issue we’re concerned about. When we talk about it, and count down the days, we’ve got a whimsical grin on our face and are smiling from ear to ear. It’s pretty cute.

And so this means in the last 6 weeks I’ve been reminding myself that I’ve got to get my butt into shape to be confident in a bikini-ready bod that I’d be proud enough to flaunt. Late night dinners caught up to me, laziness and excuses took the best of me in the last year. And so the plan began:

– Gym at least 3 times a week. Circuit train my ass off, focus on the abs, tone tone tone
– Cardio through jogging outside minimum 3 km don’t stop. Do the route down hidden streets of Queen West.
– Eat super healthy no more greasy egg sandwiches in the AM, only fruit in the morning, a lot more veggies on plate at lunch and dinners, and way less heavy meats and carbs
– Perspective. Remembering that all this will be worth it while I put on that scandally clad white bikini and say damn I feel good!! and make Chris’s eye balls pop on how lucky he is 😉

I remember when I had to go through occasional phases to lose weight in my twenties and it was so freakin easy with my blessed-then metabolism. But now in my 30’s we ladies know how much harder we have to work to shed lbs and tone up. The metabolism cards were used up and the body Gods have said no more free tickets. Ugh!

The other day at the gym I was hard at work, doing some back row lifts working on my Lattissirrus Dorsi’s of course when I saw her. HER. I hated her the first moment I saw her. My mouth dropped and I stared at her for a good 2 minutes looking like  .. well an idiot and I’m sure pretty creepy too.

She was asian, looked like chinese maybe Vietnamese. Tanned like me, I could tell we had the same type of melanin skin type that if she were outside for 10 min, it would be super easy to get colour and be gold at will. Long black shiny healthy asian hair, the kind I used to have in my twenties, which then I assumed she was about 23-25 years old and about 5″5 in height.  The reason why I was staring at her was because of her unbelievable, tight, toned, fit, HOT BODY. I mean she looked great. The tightest and firmest ass I’ve seen on an actual asian woman. (we are known for flat asses it’s true) As she stood there flicking her beautiful hair, laughing and flirting with what looked like a friendly stranger, her stance just highlighted her amazing defined triceps and her super toned abdominals which peaked through her cropped workout tank-top. (The kind that only the super confident look-at-me-biatches ladies wear at the gym, when they know how great they look).

God I was jealous.

She reminded me so much of how I used to feel about myself and body image when I was her age. I remember my gym obsession, working out regularly with my very fit boyfriends at the time and being super disciplined about it. At that moment, I couldn’t help but glance at the mirror and look at myself and compare, how far (and I don’t mean progress) I’ve come to my physical state today.  So much potential I murmured to myself had if I only I had stuck through it. I’m so lame should have, should have…

As I was gawking at HER, she notices right away and catches me staring and clearly she understands me. With unspoken words, she sends a telepathic response to me that says “Oh honey, yes I know, I’m hot as shit. Its hard managing all this attention but I do love it I must say. I know what you’re thinking, you want this. Not me of course but all this. You’re jealous and I ain’t mad”

Then, at that point she decides she is going to remove the outer layer of her tank and just wear the workout bra. And that is when I lost my shit.

I then kicked into full mode like I was in some trance. I up’d the weights by 10-15 more lbs that I normally did, then also added 5 more reps to each set thereafter. All of sudden, I thought I was Zena and I was going to show HER and say “Just because I’m like 10 years older than you, don’t mean I can’t get my body back!!!”

But I knew how much work I’d need to do. And 6 weeks wasn’t enough time. But enough to get me hopefully half way to my real goal.

So whoever you are hot asian lady at my gym. I will call you skinny bitch for now because I can and because I’m super jealous. I’d like to thank you for motivating me in the right direction. Thank you for reminding me what I lost so I can attempt with good will and some power to get it all back. Oh thy work.

When I got home, I told Chris all about skinny bitch and how much she motivated me to whip my ass into shape and how she telepathically told me off  and got really competitive again on how fit I could actually be and that I CAN reach my goals if I just stick it to. He laughed at me like I was 12 years old and thought it was really cute that I was jealous of complete and total stranger. Whatever I say.

Moral of the story is, Skinny Bitches help us in unintentional ways, that by example one is capable of doing all the same healthy and hard work things as her. Work out,  eat well, stick with it, be sexy, flick your hair if you want to and flirt with men because it feels good for your ego and feels so powerful! So far I’ve lost 2lbs.. more muscle less fat 🙂

Thank you skinny bitch where ever you are (probably at the gym) I will re-surface once again and also wear the same cropped-workout tank as you one day but of course in a different colour.


Youngabunga XO

Fail Camp.

12 Jun
Fail Blog

Image via Wikipedia

Last week at the office, I had the opportunity to attend a very interesting session called “Fail Camp”. FAIL CAMP? Ah yes let me explain: the notion of sharing with others (your colleagues in this case) your past failures be it work or personal related stories of where you thought you were hashtag WINNING, but netted out in a big FAILblog.org moment. I thought this was interesting. And why were we doing this? Well, we should all know that one cannot learn or grow unless you learning from your past stupid mistakes, or lack of better judgement calls, and just really bad decisions that make you say DOH! The point was to share, so we could all learn from examples and not be afraid of taking more risks.

And so I sat there in the crowd, thinking to myself, God d0 I really have any failure stories to share out loud? I mean I’m a winner, I never fail,  so peace I’m out of here…but not so fast.

Which brings me to my next sub-topic of  to ‘inhumed’ a unpleasant memory and to just F’n bury it..deep, deep down in to that spot in your brain so you will never ever want to remember again…

Of course I’ve had sooooo many failures. God so many. I just buried them deep into my sub-conscious never wanting to realize them due to super duper embarrassment, my precious ego that is just way so ‘sensitive’ and really because failing at anything is just so anti-intuitive for my perfectionist-striving-self.  Nah, that is B.S, I’m not really a perfectionist at all, but a typical person who just doesn’t want to remember the fails, be it professional or personal. Let’s just for-get-aaa-bout-it ya?

I starting to think REAL HARD. Failures.. Failures.. wha happon? When? I couldn’t think of one ..come on?! And I realized at that moment, how good I think people are forgetting memories of just pure gross embarrassment, traumatic moments when you prayed for that time-machine rewind button so badly and was so upset that no one invented it yet. Human beings suppress them, and naturally hide them forever and say never again will I remember you Mr. big ass failure.

The truth is of course failing at anything does makes you wiser and some of us just don’t realize it yet (the young ones). And because I’ve failed so much in my life, I’m super wise now!

I’m going to share one of the failing moment stories that I did share in that session with everyone. And now I share with you all, because why not just laugh at my quirky self and stupid-ness for your pure entertainment.

The Wha Happon:

I was about 19-21 years old (gee can’t remember) and I was working out at Bally’s gym (not even sure if they are around anymore) and they had this indoor awesome running track, super cool. And there he was. HIM. The guy in my economics class. Johnny was his name. He was super cute, smart, just plain hot and gave me the heeby jeeby feeling every time he smiled. And he was at MY GYM?! Wooooot! Game on! I got this.

The plan- was to keep jogging my laps and pass him, perhaps give me a smile, you know get him to notice me. And I remember feeling pretty confident and in great shape-fit back then. I looked good in those racerback workout tops, my abs were in existence, my body and frame slim and athletic back in the day. I was 19 and hawt shit.  And I hated running, but for Johnny to notice me, I ran:

Lap 1- don’t look at him in the eyes, because I’m too cool for school and focused and will keep jogging…
Lap 2 OK look at him this time. Smile. Give him my best smile. He smiles back.
Lap 3- Semi-smile. I’m still too cool again. Can’t look like I’m trying. Him: A slightly turned.. Awkward smile. (huh?)
Lap 4- Him: Still awkward smile and looks confused. Guy friend next to him also shares the same face. Me: weird. what is going on? Maybe he doesn’t know or recognize me anymore? He’s confused. I’m THE GIRL IN YOUR CLASS! Come one notice meeeeeee!
Lap 5- I pass again and I stop. I’m so tired and cannot do another one and try to catch my breath. I am sweating.

And then it happens. He is approaching me, YES, he is coming to say hi and it will all happen right now. He will allude to hanging out, asking me out perhaps and we will date, yes we will date, he will try and court and swoon me. It will all happen right now. Amazing! But I noticed when he was walking toward me he was holding something in his hand. It was white… it was a towel but not..what was it?. sure whatever.

With this strange and awkward look in his eyes, sympathetic tone in voice he whispers ‘hey.. Young right? pssst, I think you dropped this while you were running” I looked down and instantly wanted to die. I wanted to die right there, at the gym in, on the track. Just DIE.

He handed me a bra. MY bra.

That’s right folks. A bra was apparently stuck to the back of my workout pant, from the dryer when I pulled out my gym clothes while rushing. The whole FREAKING  time while I did lap 1, 2… to 5. This F’n BRA was statically clinging for life as it tried to hold on to me as I galloped across the tracks, until it could not hold on anymore and was saved by its hero Johnny, who managed to claim to quickly and give back to its rightful owner.

And no we never did end up dating. In fact. I completely avoided him all year, I was so embarrassed and just wanted to believe it never happened, I never liked him and I never really was at the gym that day because it was all a bad dream and nightmare.

When I shared this story back at the work session, I got a round of applause from everyone. 1) because  it’s just so god damn funny and 2) way to go Young on sharing such a personal story un-related to anything professional we will ever talk about. I have to admit, it felt good to dig that up again and tell it, I don’t think I remember ever telling that story to anyone but a few peeps. It’s been a while.

I repeated this story to my very good and wise friend Debs who was in town from San Fran for a visit this weekend. She was howling, laughing so hard, in which I joined her until my stomach started cramping from hard-core laughter. It was hilarious. What did I learn from this you ask? How did I grow? Well, I told everyone in the session : The lesson is boys and girls, ALWAYS check yourself, no matter how much of a rush you are in. Look in the mirror, do a 360 turn around, look at your ass, check yourself out and say Damn I look good, or Damn there is a f-ing bra stuck on my leg and I best to take it off before I run into hot boys that I’m trying to impress like Johnny.

Debs, after coming down from a natural high said something that got me thinking all weekend. She said you know why I love you so much and think you are so awesome? “No Deb’s do enlighten me.” “Girl you take RISKS. THAT’S HOW YOU LEARN, and GROW!” What risk? – The Risk of me trying out a strategy of getting a boy to notice me, by doing laps of running to get his attention, when you don’t even run and hate running! I laughed because she was so right. I only decided to jog with the intention of talking to Johnny and hated every lap. And I surely succeeded in that he indeed spoke to me and noticed, but miserably failed on my goal. It’s so hilarious that memory, and now I love sharing the story.

And now I can say with clarity from all this, we all take risks to succeed, with the hopes to win. Any investment we ever consider, any gamble we take, doing anything uncomfortable, or doing anything that you’ve never done before, or hasn’t been done before is all in hopes that you will come out a winner on the other end. But when we fail, yup you didn’t succeed, but I could have perhaps if I didn’t have that bra stuck to my leg, Johnny and I could have had a chance if I had just gotten over my pride-silly-self. Oh when I was young… (no pun).

Fail camp is awesome. May your failures guide you and may you fail greatly only to remember them and just never to repeat it again. But really only if you can laugh about it after.



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