29 April 2015

Life Hack: Expectation Vs. Reality

Reality? R-e-a-lity. What's that then? Here are life's moments where reality well and truly slaps our rosy expectations in the face with a a slimy wet fish..!

Perils of Faking the Bronzed Glow
You can picture it now, you've got a girls reunion night on the tiles this Saturday and you're determined to be the hot-to-trot transformation babe who lost her Kitkat winter padding and discovered the marvels of a beauty counter. Everyone knows that the only way to do your inappropriately navel sweeping swanky number any justice at all is to pair it with a brazen bronzed glow that would make even an Australian beach goddess frazzle with green eyes...cue the biscuit bottle. 
It just so happens that whilst you happily slap on your deep chocolate hue of smug, the heavens above are also mixing up their own raucous party of fun plans. As soon as your legs hit the pavement - Bam! The rain clouds slink out to flirt and you find yourself enacting a more than entertaining rain dance. If you were going for the head-turning look then girl you totally nailed it! 
But hey it's all playful tomfoolery, right?

British Tea Woes
It's a British right of way to indulge in a spot of afternoon tea complete with nibble biscuits to dunk. Now don't underestimate the art of the perfect biscuit selection for the task at hand. It's got to have that delightful crunch factor that brings pure tummy satisfaction, be nibbly enough to last the duration of your cuppa but sturdy enough not to melt at the first touch of the golden liquid. Expectations are sky-high yet sadly always seem to crumble into misery. You select in anticipation, hover, submerge the hailed chosen one, remove and what d'ya know, the bloody tea has eaten half the damn biscuit!
One soggy nightmare. One unhappy tummy. One distraught cookie-less girl with a mug full of crap.
Oh life, we guess that's just how the cookie crumbles.

Crackin' the Gym
You rock open the glass doors with the hip swag and booty shake of a lean machine ready to pump out a 7 mile HIIT run on the treadmill, dead-weight like a beast on crack and then jog on home to post-fuel by whipping up a turkey protein egg-white omelette all washed down with a nut butter protein shake. We bow down to you in awe you admirable Goddess! 
If only that wasn't just the daydream you played in your head on your sweaty commute home. Your holiday slim-down reality? You scuttle through the front doors after seeing your BFF upload yet another selfie after completing day 69 of her Kayla Itsines workout programme on Instagram. You get a deaths-door stitch after your 2 minute warm-up walk leading you to justify a somewhat shaky 15 minute uphill 'brisk walk' as a cardio busting fat burner and skip the weights corner as your triple Starbucks coffee run for the office was enough of an arm workout to add any more pressure to your guns. 
And your post-workout replenishment to help fuel your muscle exertion? Collecting the double-stuffed hawaiian dominoes pizza and complimentary garlic dough balls that took you said 15 minutes on the treadmill to order on your drive round the corner home.

Nailing that Night Out with Your Girlfriends
You're movin', groovin', shimmyin' and shakin' and 100% utterly convinced that once these bad boys moves are busting' their allure on the dance floor of the local Oceana and not the carpeted living room floor of your BF's pre-drinks pre-party, you'll seduce every man with a drooping rabbit so that they're pulsating round you like a bunch of vibrating machines on auto-lust. Top notch girlfriend! You'll not only be getting up close and personal with a packet of paracetamol come morning time but find yourself studying the contours of a mighty sex-God who you scampered back into your sex cave of wild dreams. Christian Grey can bore off! 
Strutting your way through to the bar whipping your 2 hour-tonged hair about, your eyes land upon multiple pairs of nunga-nungas in various arrays of display. 
What. The? That's when you see it. The sign to crush all hopes of a single girl's needs. Bloody ladies night. Feeling bruised, battered and betrayed by the love Gods you waltz with your head held high back through the same doors of hope you entered through. Not bothered. Nope. Not in the slightest...

That Pilates Class that Puts The Glow in Your Hue
You see it every morning bright n'early as you peruse the educational right-hand section of the DailyMail online, the enviable aura that pulsates from the luminous skin of the A-list celebrity who kickstarts her morning with an early-bird Pilates class. Nimble, lean and gleaming with a pair of pins on par with the likes of Gisele, if those beauties can attain their gorgeousness from a measly stretching class then you can totally get a rockin' bod the same way without sacrificing the mandatory donut run every time 3pm strikes right? 
Armed with your lululemon capri pants and sweaty betty slouch vest, you set up ship with your matt already daydreaming of emerging like a glowing goddess of pure health engulfed in a rosy hue of golden delight. Yet after your fifth attempt at trying to retract your left foot from that god-forsaken pose that nearly left you popping out a fluffer, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You're not bathed in that Rosie Huntington-whitely glow, nor are you smiling gleefully like Vanessa Hudgens...no, you're a drowned rat that needs to scuttle back to her hovel and hide in shame. 
Gone is the berry-licious scents of your new chic gym wear and instead a layer of sickly sweet shame clings to your body like a flashing neon light, fragrancing the room like your dog after he's nose-dived into a pile of Stagnant water. Exactly the look you were going for. How delightful.

[Also available to read at Couture Stories]
[Photo Source Inspiration: Pinterest]

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