Monthly Archives: May 2011

Hi world! Welcome to my new home!

Inspired by Bangs‘ talk at The London Blog Club the other week, I decided it was time to take the plunge and buy a url, and branch out into the next level of blogging. She said to inject more of myself into my blog, and while I’m not exactly whacking a headshot on there, I’ve managed to hunt down some less obvious pics to liven the place up a bit.

It still needs a lick of paint – an interesting background and some lovely graphics etc, but for a WordPress novice, it’s not looking half bad. It also took me FOREVER to lug all my old posts from BCUK as you can’t export those blogs like you can blogger et al. I clearly had very little going on in my life in March 2010 (the month before I got my job) as I was posting about ten times a day.

So if you’re new to the world of Ritzi Cortez, check out ‘Who The Heck Is Ritzi Cortez’ or pop into the archives (I apologise profusely for all indecent content if you’re not into that sort of thing. Mind you, if you’re not into that sort of thing I have no idea how you tracked me down…)

Happy Sunday Everyone! Here’s to many more years of fabulousness.

RitziCx

Ritzi Cortez : Runner.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Exactly. I know how you feel. That was my reaction too, but you know what? I think there could be something in this running lark.

As you may have gathered, my flatmate Twinkletoes is a runner. She’s also a dancer, with one of those bodies that is so bloody firm it makes you want to give her a slap and force feed her chocolate brownie icecream, especially when she wanders round the flat in her pants around about the time that I’m taking a bite of something heavily laden with peanut butter.

When Twinkle suggested a few months ago that I join her for a run, I laughed in her face. Then, I booked a holiday and bought a truly amazing press night dress, and realised that, quite frankly, the world is just not ready for this jelly.

Something had to be done, and while I’m not exactly signing up for a half marathon like @BangsandaBun and her gang of inspirational nutjobs, I’m managing to make it four or five miles without dying these days and that’s quite exciting.

Slight blip on the old running plan occurred a few weeks ago when, you will recall, I went and buggered up my foot and was told by a hot asian doctor to avoid overexertion and high heels – two of my favourite things. Luckily, my foot’s feeling much better and last weekend it seemed up to handling my favourite Kurt Giegers, so I figured it could handle some nice cushiony trainers also.

With the help of Lady GaGa (I unashamedly LOVE her new album) I stepped out and it was like I’d never been away.

The next day, it was like I’d never bloody run before.

But excruciating pain aside, this crazy pavement pounding is shifting the pounds, burning off the biscuits and most surprisingly, is making me less tired than usual. Weird.

I’ve always been one of those people on the verge of an asthma attack after running for a train (I don’t have asthma, I’m just being dramatic) but I’ve had a sneaky suspicion I could handle the running thing ever since I got roped into a 4KM West End charity run last year and got dragged around the race route in the pouring rain against my will while dressed as a soggy nun. Turns out, that habit wasn’t just a one off! (*drum beats* *cymbol crash*)

All it takes now is a gym membership and I’ll be ready for 2012, right?

Zzzzzzzoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooom!  (that blur just there? that was me leaving the building)

Love and lucozade,

RitziCx

Well there’s a question.

A few nights ago, I dared to break my online anonymity somewhat, and ventured (across the road) to Bangs and a Bun’s hilariously motivational speaking sesh about ‘finding your blog’s voice’. In doing so, I had to bare all in the form of a ‘hi, my name is…’ sticker which – quite frankly – messed with my stylishly artistic floral jumpsuit and denim manshirt ensemble. Rude.

Being ‘Ritzi’ among other members of the human race was strangely invigorating (although I’m still umming and ahhing about the date offer from a lovable nerd with a penchant for perfectly ordinary cheeses… not entirely sure of the feasibility of such a thing, in the world of my exceptionally frank sex blog and whatnot) but it also got me to thinking about the origins of Ritzi Cortez… not just a name picked out of a strangely elaborate hat, you see.

When I was a kid (hard to believe, but once upon a time I was fresh faced and carefree, I was not the most popular child. At the time, I didn’t much give a crap, because I spent most of my time climbing trees and hunting for fairies and other such more important things. Still, a girl needs someone to bitch to, and at that time I have a distinct memory that my circle of invisible friends was quite diverse.

Ritzi Cortez was once a fantasy figure; the girl who crossed my mind as I sat in class listening to a bumbling teacher attempt to teach a class of fidgeters about meandering rivers, and entertained me by doing all the things I never dared to do to make life more interesting.

As I got older, and actually began to deal with real life, the daydreaming lessoned only somewhat, but Ritzi was still there. Now, however, she had become an aspirational figure.

What Would Ritzi Do?

This was pretty much the question I asked myself right before I lost my virginity (in the roof of a garage – classy), or downed my first bottle of vodka, or upped sticks and packed my life into a vauxhaul corsa at eighteen and drove away to a new life in the big smoke. What would Ritzi do? A more accurate question, perhaps, is what wouldn’t Ritzi do?

So now, as life becomes more and more fabulous (or horrendous sometimes, depending on the time of week or how much champagne I had the night before) I find real life and fantasy blurring together, so much so that until I walked into ‘The Blog Club’ on Wednesday I wasn’t entirely sure who I was going to be.

I think, as time goes on, I am finally figuring out the answer to that all elusive question… who is Ritzi Cortez?

Answer?

I am biatch.

Rock. On.

RitziCx