Valentine's Day

I know, I know....

I know, I know everyone, I've been battling this awful flu mixed with the crazy life of Shan Fran. BUT don't worry I'd never let you or myself down...I'm coming back with full recaps!

Say you'll forgive me! :( I can't do this without you!

Kisses!
Shan Fran

DAY 11: SUPERBOWL

Day 9: 5-6-7-8

Day 8: I heart Shan Francisco

Day 7: I Think There's a Thong on Your Back?

Day 6: Dayquil Dreams

My heavy eyelids barely opened as I flung my arm over my body to silence the Super Mario Bros. tune ringing from my phone. Normally, I wake up feeling like Princess Peach but on this given morning it was obvious that I had caught whatever was going around the Mushroom Kingdom. Ugh, the burning sensation attacking my poor throat, it felt as if I had just swallowed an entire garden of fire flowers. I hate getting sick! The rush of instant depression swept over me as I realized that I have no one; NO ONE I tell you, to make me feel better during a time of crisis like this. Even my two roommates are gone. If I died nobody would know! More importantly, if I was in desperate need of a cup of Chicken Noodle soup nobody would know…what a travesty! It’s true, I get so mellow dramatic when I’m under the weather. I might be 26 years old, but give me a fever, runny nose, sore throat and trust me I’ll be weeping while I cry out “I want my mommy.”  I laid there making deals with the Health Gods to please, no matter what, bypass any signs of feverish chills!

I’m not sure if the Gods heard me so just I let my lifeless body sink into my Tempurpedic mattress like the freaking Titanic. If only I had a Jack Dawson to come save me from this. All kidding aside ladies, I tend to lust after Leonardo DiCaprio when I’m sick. It’s a little trick I picked up awhile back. Not a complete cure but definitely helps to put my mind at ease for just a few minutes. Sometimes I can even predict the duration of my snot storm and when to expect clear skies and sunshine again.  For example, I take a deep breath in, close my eyes and relax my mind. Then comes the moment of no return, it’s kind of like those childhood chapter books where I could customize the story (by the way brilliant for a control-freak kid like myself). If I unconsciously go straight to the heart-wrenching scene when Jack’s frozen body sinks to the ocean floor (turn to page 57) than I know I better clear my schedule for the rest of the week. Ugh, it gets me every time. What a way to go down Jack (no pun intended). BUT if my mind so wonderfully envisions the ever-so sexy, sweaty, rugged Leonardo DiCaprio in the backseat of a vintage ride (“ehhh must be the moneyyy,” go to page 4); well, then I know that I’m still capable of having rational thoughts and making good decisions. Alas, that’s how I know I’ll be just fine! On a side note, I can’t leave the subject of Titanic without saying, one: what I would give to be Kate Winslet. I mean she looks just fabulous as she’s draped across that beautiful settee. Number two: where can I find that boulder of a diamond so I too can have it impeccably perched on my chest in an attempt to make   it look as flawless as Kate’s? Just so you know, my head is already deep sea diving today so that’s not a viable option if that was your first thought ;) Seriously though, that necklace is the ultimate body improvement piece. Forget plastic surgery, I’d just keep that sucker around my neck at all times. It’s totally normal. Some people go to the gym wearing ankle weights. I’d rather throw on the Heart of the Ocean necklace. No big deal.

That’s when I realized that my lingering thoughts of the gym just totally prevented my morning’s daydreaming. Of course gym guilt had to come in and steal my spotlight. Such a Heidi Montag move. Nothing left to do but royally get over it, so I flung the covers off my legs and rolled to my feet with the grace of a roller derby girl. I waddled, well semi-crawled, to the bathroom and gave “suitable for public,” my best shot. After a 10-minute tooth brushing (I had to pause and take cover for each wave of nausea), I finally had the strength to put on my workout gear. Ironically, trying to fit D-sized ta-tas into a Lululemon sports bra can most definitely cause a sweat break if not done properly. What’s that, you don’t agree? Lemme guess, you wear an A huh? Yeah, I’m talking about a whole different set of problems over here. Anyway, I grabbed the essentials and on my way I went. Walking down the driveway’s steps, okay fine tripping down the steps, I popped the lock to my car and got in accepting the fact that it was about to carry me to my final resting place. 24-hour Fitness! God help my soul if Britney Spears is still blasting from my speakers when that time actually comes. Yet, nothing gets me more pumped for the treadmill like “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” I straggled through the front door, looking and feeling like it was New Years Day. Do I reek of vodka, because the tween at the front desk flashed me that “are you OK” look? Aren’t you supposed to be in Home Ec, little girl? I told myself, “act your age Shan Francisco.” My energy level at that point was at five percent. I knew if I wasted any of it on Front Desk Miley, than I deserved to be on bed rest.

I climbed to the top of my fate and just stood there for a second. With my morning’s previous Leo lusting, I actually contemplated a quick “I’m the king of the world” arm reach as I rested atop the elliptical. Good thing I glanced over my shoulder before I did so because there was a damn cute man running behind me. Wait, what the hell he’s looking this way? Oh thank god I didn’t just pull a total 1998 blockbuster move. That could have been so mortifying. Why did I think that was even an option? Who am I? Seriously, I’m embarrassed that it even crossed my mind. Great, now I’m blushing. He’s going to think I like him. Breathe Shan Fran, breath. Last time I checked spontaneous panic attacks were NOT at the top of most men’s “biggest turn-ons list.” For starters, he’s probably not even looking at me. Just watch it’s something like I’m blocking his view of ESPN. Hmm that’s weird though, The View is on every TV around me? Ohhhh silly me…yup, he’s gay. I swear this always happens to me. Honestly, it’s got to be a combination of sorts because eyeballing gay men has become an all too frequent occurrence these days. Here’s the thing, one: straight men in Los Shangeles don’t exactly do their best to stand out if you know what I mean. Was I supposed to pick up on the fact that you’re batting for my team by the glow of your spray tan? Ahhh okay, I get it now. I totally missed my cue. Of course the designer jeans that you clearly just painted on, your perfectly manicured/highlighted hair that most likely involved a bottle of gel, hairdryer and tools from a high school geometry class, and imposter diamond earrings… are a dead-ringers for “I’M STRAIGHT.” Do you see what I have to work with people? However, before I let my inner Joan Rivers become too cynical; I’ll allow myself a quick double-take. Just to be 100% sure. From what I initially saw this guy seemed manlier than most. Smoothing down my fly-away hairs, I gave my ponytail a quick tousle for instant volume.  Oooh c’mon Shan hurry, where’s that damn quick start button? I want my butt to look as tight as possible when I throw my head over my shoulder and casually peek back giving him my best sultry Shan Francisco look. No but seriously, am I blind? I thought that whole point of the button being bright green was to ensure that it’d be easy to find? At this rate I’d have more luck reading brail. Ah-ha, found it! Remind me to file a complaint with the manufacturers of this machine when I get home. This damn elliptical almost ruined my game. Alright,  now in motion; finally, the time has come! I turned my head…and what the hell?!?! He’s walking toward me??? Why is he walking over here?...

STAY TUNED!!! I know, I’m awful…so sorry to do that to you folks but the rest of this story is just too important to keep rambling on now. Trust me, you’ll be glad when I pick back up for Day 7.

Kisses!

Shan Francisco