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Salad: Punishment for being fat

posted on Monday, May 28th, 2009 under General Ramblings, Things that piss me off |

That’s really all I have to say about that. Without my cheese and Asiago Parmesan dressing (okay, and croutons), salad is not a happy place. You know that face most babies make when they taste their first pickle? I’ve done that a lot lately. I also do that when I see babies.

But whatever. I’ve lost 13 pounds. Leafy greens are a necessary evil if I want my new shoes soon and then my new tattoo. I got my dress…I can’t find pictures of it online, but trust me. It’s totally hot. Maybe not so much on me, but in general. It does make my boobs look good, though. You know you like it. Anyway…


I think pet owners can appreciate this. An open letter to my dog and cat:

I really don’t need supervision when I pee. It actually makes me uncomfortable to have you follow me in and stare at me while I do my business. And cat, I really don’t understand why pawing the shower curtain rapidly while standing on your back paws provides you so much entertainment, but as long as it does, I will continue to harass you and make you fall in the tub. I need my entertainment, too.

Dog, I’m sorry we used the Cesar Milan method of training on the cat and you don’t understand that “TSSSSST!” means “Stop doing that before I fucking kill you.” But it does. It does NOT mean come running because something fun is going to happen. Sure, watching the cat get yelled at probably has some level of satisfaction for you, but I don’t always have time to stop and pet you when I’m busy trying to kill that damn feline.

Cat, seriously. Shut the fuck up. We love you. You are adorable and hilarious, but if you don’t stop waking us up with your incessant mewing, you might die. It won’t be our fault. We can’t control sleep-induced rages. And about you, dog. When we yell at the cat to shut up, that does not mean you should get up and start tap dancing around our bed. If I don’t get some sleep soon, you will both be locked out of the room – in places we won’t be able to hear your scratching, tapping or mewing.

Dog, I know you need more walks. However, I can’t control the weather and no one likes a stinky wet dog. When it clears up, we’ll go. I promise. In the meantime, please stop giving me those eyes. It breaks my heart.

Cat, letting Mr. T pet you all night and then curling up on my legs to sleep is NOT equal treatment. I want my fair share of snuggle time or I will continue to roll around on purpose to get you to leave. And it’s really not fair for you to sleep on the dog bed. He’s bigger than you and isn’t allowed on the bed or couches. That’s just selfish and mean. I know you’re evil…I just wish you wouldn’t take it out on your brother.

Dog, you can totally take him. Cat is much smaller and not very coordinated, really. The next time he waits for you around the corner and smacks the crap out of you, give him a little one-two to the head. That’ll teach him. But don’t hurt him – just show him who’s boss.

Oh, and both of you – I know you’re secretly friends. Busted.


I feel sloshy.

posted on Monday, May 6th, 2009 under General Ramblings, Things that piss me off |

I have been so incredibly good lately (and it shows – the scale was down to 211.5 this morning), but I don’t feel as great as I had hoped. I’m drinking tons of water. Maybe not as much as I technically need, but far more than I used to drink. I pee all the damn time, but hey – that’s just a few more calories I burn walking to the bathroom, right? And I have consumed an incredible amount of fruit. Mr. T helped me cut up cantaloupe, honeydew, strawberries and 1/4 of a watermelon and I also added blackberries and grapes, so we have the biggest bowl of fruit salad in our fridge. (Next time, I’ll just stick with the melons.) But I have had two cups of fruit for breakfast yesterday and today, plus fruit as a snack. I mean, it’s only 1 point per cup, so I can eat until I’m full…but between that and the water, I feel all sloshy and weird. It’s not pleasant.

Another thing – my Wellbutrin got bumped up, but I don’t see a huge difference in that yet. I mean, I am CRABBY! Seriously. And I think it’s because I feel so deprived of yummy food. What can you expect when I’m surrounded by people eating CHOCOLATE PIE while I eat cantaloupe??? It’s so hard to say no to my favorite things, especially when T eats pizza rolls or taquitos in front of me. I would kill for some pizza. I have some Lean Gourmet pizza snacks to tide me over, so I’ll survive, but what I’d really like to do is eat a whole Tony’s pepperoni pizza (I prefer frozen pizza to chain pizza, I’m a freak). I skip the tortillas and buns and eat everything naked. T has actually been much better and more helpful – he’s eating more fruit and healthy stuff with me, so that definitely helps. And he tries to eat the bad stuff when I’m not around, which I really appreciate…but when I do see him eating something yummy, I get seriously jealous. How come he can say he wants to lose weight and wake up 5 pounds lighter, while I don’t eat anything greasy and then smell a cupcake and gain 5 pounds???? Frustrating!

One more thing I’ve discovered – WW and nuts don’t mix. I always read about how good it is to add nuts to a salad to add some good fat and crunch. I made a salad last night with romaine mix, grilled chicken breast, dried cranberries, pecans, MAYBE 1/8 cup 2% cheese and fat free Raspberry Pecan dressing (thanks to Schneiderdoodle and Mel for that inspired dinner!), but when I added up the points with the nuts, the fat grams threw the total up to ten. Ten damn points for a salad? I’ll be skipping the nuts from now on.

I’ve got a pretty good food routine down. I have 2 points of something for breakfast (fruit salad or Fiber One bar), 4-6 points of a low-fat frozen meal for lunch, a 1-2 point snack around 3:30 or 4 so I’m not ravenous when I get home, a meal with protein and no more than 10-12 points for dinner and a 1-2 point snack later on. I drink tons of water all day to keep me feeling full and I only have a caffeine-free diet soda on occassion (I just can’t give it up completely – I’m giving up too much other stuff!). I know I want to eat more in the evenings, so I plan my points accordingly. If I can have a bigger dinner, I know I’m more likely to stay satisfied and not have a stupid snack later. I get 27 points a day and I don’t think I use them all (even though I think I’m supposed to…I’m working on that. Going over scares me to death, even with the extra points you get each week).

Volleyball season has officially started, so I have a guaranteed hour of activity every Sunday, and I’ll be playing some Tuesdays as well. I’d play every single day if I could (anyone else play? Need another girl? I really like to play and I’m pretty decent!). When the weather is nice, I’ll walk the dog. When it’s rainy, I’ll either watch TV from the elliptical or the Total Gym, or I do a video. I think I’ve been convinced to get the 30 Day Shred DVD, so that would become my regular video instead of Turbo Jam. Not that I do something every single day. To be honest, I’m still adjusting to the reduction in calories, so I don’t have tons of energy and I don’t get motivated to work out. I’m getting there. A little bit each week is better than nothing, and I’ve already got 2 days of activity so far this week, so I’m okay with that. I’ll do something tonight, as long as my stomach cooperates. I’m not feeling so hot, really. I think it’s a combo of stress and the new diet.

And just to add a bit of the old me to the post – a rant. About babies. This weekend, we were out to dinner (I ate a salad while everyone around me had fries and soda and cheesy goodness) and I was already a smidge crabby (see previous parenthetical statement). I soon realize that the table directly behind us is host to several devil offspring of the fresh-from-the-womb variety…not only is one of them very unhappy, but it is directly behind me. Not only that, but the stupid asshole dad is holding the screaming miscreant over his shoulder, so the brunt of the screaming is aimed directly at my head. Holy shit, people. A) That’s a fucking loaded weapon – never aim it directly at another human! B) Take that crying shit outside or to the bathroom. Not everyone who came out to this public establishment came prepared to deal with that kind of banshee howling and our dinners should not be ruined because your little terror has a little bit of gas. C) I am going to make comments and jokes about it, loudly. I don’t care if it offends you, because that screaming thing pointed at me is offending me and ruining my family’s dinner together. Mr. T, you knew my stance on this topic when you married me, so don’t be so surprised at my comments and please don’t act embarrassed because they heard me and turned around. That was the plan. I wanted them to hear me. And you know what? It fucking worked because they took that thing outside until it calmed down. So please don’t reprimand me in front of my family. I know you think I was being rude and it was uncalled for, but that thing wasn’t screaming directly into YOUR ears, now was it? It wasn’t like the baby was a little fussy and I was overreacting. It was ridiculous and parents need to learn a little bit of respect for those around them when THEY choose to procreate and then take the resulting pissy mini-human out in public. Rant over.


Aw, crap. I was afraid of this…

posted on Monday, May 1st, 2009 under Things that piss me off |

I’m going to the doctor in about an hour. He’ll check my weight and we’ll chat about my drugs. No biggie, right? Wrong. I’m a nervous wreck. What if his scale says I haven’t lost anything? I mean, what started as a much-needed change to start taking small steps towards being healthy has quickly spiraled into a full-on obsession. I freak out about everything I eat. Last night, after being on the elliptical for a few minutes, it reset itself and I about lost my mind because I just lost track of my time, distance and calories.

Seriously, food makes me nervous. When someone suggests going out, I get this sinking feeling in my stomach. Everyone else is going to eat delicious food in front of me and I’m going to have to pretend to not want to share the appetizer or have fries. Drinking helps calm me in social situations, but alcohol has empty calories, so I feel like I can’t drink. Maybe it’s just because I have to face the scale today, but I hope this passes because feeling like I can never eat pizza again just makes me want to throw in the towel. This is exactly what I was afraid of when I started…I’m an all or nothing kind of gal, and you just can’t be like that when it comes to food and exercise. I know moderation is the key, but that’s the part I suck at.

I’m so nervous that I haven’t lost anything. Keep your fingers crossed for me…I’ll post the results when I’m back. *throws up a little in mouth*

So, broccoli. Mother says you're good for me, but I'm no good for you!

Part of being an adult…

posted on Monday, March 31st, 2009 under Things that piss me off |

…is being able to think for yourself and being able to form your own opinions. I see far too many people who enjoy riding on bandwagons. Just because it’s in the news doesn’t make it true. Everyone is entitled to have their own opinions. From day-to-day work to mass media, I constantly see the negative effects of groupthink and I’m tired of it.

Grow a pair, people. Take a second to think about what exactly it is that you stand for, or stand against. Even if you don’t have a clear position on everything, that’s okay. I know I don’t. But don’t just hear something on the news and believe it. Don’t just listen to your supervisor and take that as truth. You’ll get screwed and, in the end, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

I’m so tired of getting emails from family members who wrongly believe I’m devoutly religious or even Republican. I claim no political party because I don’t think one party accurately represents how I feel about everything. However, I’m tired of people assuming because they think one way that I think that same way. I have a fully functioning nervous system, complete with a brain, cerebellum and all. I can think for myself. I can form my own opinions. And to be honest – I don’t give a flying fuck if you agree with me or not. It is 100% your right to have your own thoughts. In fact, it’s not just your right. It’s your responsibility.

If people would spend half the time thinking that they spend on reading blogs and watching TV, I think the world would be a much smarter, more well-rounded place to live. Reason number 101 to not have babies? I think I just covered it.

Oh, and I think Superman might be the only person who actually can give a flying fuck…



posted on Monday, March 13th, 2009 under Things that piss me off |

Warning: If you are easily offended, stop now.

In general, if you are easily offended, don’t read my blog.

In fact, perhaps before reading, you should read this again. It’s been a while.

The following rant has been years in the making. Yes, it’s about religion. And how I’ve gone REM on the pope’s ass and lost mine. It’s also about our government and what has now become a disgustingly blurred separation of church and state. The straw that broke this rantoppotomus’ back? My trip to Incredible Pizza last night with Ms. B. I don’t want my pizza served with a side of Jesus, thank you very much. And my salad is just fine without your croutons o’christ (Dane Cook’s bit on the Catholic church is spot on – anyone raised Catholic, whether they agree or not, can relate on some level to that bit). I came to play games and relieve some stress – leave church out of this. If I wanted to discuss Christian principles, I’d have invited a theology group to dinner. I certainly don’t need a slinky shaped like a cross (although the subsequent mental image of pushing Jesus down the stairs, which is essentially the statement made by a cross-shaped slinky, was as funny as it was wrong), and I don’t need a bat that says I play on God’s team. Oh, and the 90s called. They want their “WWJD?” keychains back. If you’re going to shove religion down my throat, please post that on the doors of your establishment in large, blinking letters so I can decide for myself if I want to endure that all night.

I was raised Catholic. I was a good kid. As hard as it is to believe now, if you had met me in 10th grade and said the word penis in front of me, I would have blushed, gotten flustered and embarassedly admitted that I had never even seen a picture of one, much less a real life one. (As I think 10th graders today still should, but clearly do not.) I went to PSR, and high school theology group (okay, only until 9th grade – we moved my 10th grade year and they didn’t make me find a new group). Sure, I have always had my own viewpoints on religion, and have always been insanely bored by Catholic ritual (and a little creeped out by all the chanting…you want to talk about a cult? HelLOOOO!), but I prayed. I talked religion with people when they brought it up (as in, expressed my viewpoint when asked – I’m not a bible thumper). When the guys in suits got off their bikes and asked if I had accepted Jesus and my Lord and Savior, I always said yes. In short, I was a believer.

I always just ran with the faith idea – you don’t need proof because that’s what faith is. Well, guess what? Just because I say I believe in unicorns doesn’t make unicorns real. That’s pretty much how I feel about the rest of the belief crap. I like to make fun of Scientology because it’s a religion born from a sci-fi book. Well, when I take a step back and reconsider, what is the Bible? Sure, we’re supposed to believe it’s a work of non-fiction, but it was originally written in a language that is now dead (and translated into a form of modern language that has now evolved, thus changing the meanings of many words), passed down for years, filtered through biased sources (*cough* the Vatican *cough*) and then spoon fed to everyone as the word of God. If we’ll believe a man can walk on water, talk to a burning bush and magically create fish, who are we to laugh at others who believe we are possessed by the meandering souls of immortal aliens? Some argue that Scientology was created as a scam to make money…yeah, you know why? Because religion = big bucks. Last time I checked, Jesus got pretty pissed when he found people trying to sell shit in his father’s house of worship…but now it’s okay to have billboards and television commercials promoting church, and to run ads on TVs IN the church that sit on either side of the altar and solicit donations to help the church grow into the biggest in the state? I thought church was about faith and hope and prayer, but now it’s just about money and greed. So, yeah, why not make up a new religion? It’s the new business plan.

Hypocrisy abounds in the world of religion. Not just in Christianity, but in all of them. And religion is extremely patriarchal. Women have no true value other than serving as devoted wives and mothers. So, I’m a sinner because I don’t want to be a mother? I don’t buy that. Suicide bombers die for their religion in the hopes of being greeted by 72 virgins in the afterlife (have you seen that episode of Family Guy? The virgins were all Trekkies and computer nerds - virgins, ha!), yet their wives aren’t allowed to show their ankles in public without being stoned. Each religion claims that you have to follow that exact doctrine to achieve salvation or eternal life. I went to a Unitarian church once. Had the sermon not been all about donating your tax return to the church, I might have gone back. Again, the religion as a business thing really chaps my ass. But I loved that they read from all the major holy books – the Bible, Torah, Qur’an, etc. – and the messages were all the same. If you shave away the politics, the personal gain, the business, you end up with the core – the golden rule, if you will – to treat others the way you would like them to treat you. You can’t tell me that, if I live a good life, help others, give back, but don’t go to church, when I die, I’m condemned. And yet, if I live an evil life, kill people, punt babies, beat kittens, embezzle money and ruin the lives of those around me, but I do go to church and ask for forgiveness when I die, I’ll live for eternity in the land of plenty. Really? That doesn’t add up.

Then you add in the science. I like science. It’s real. It’s factual. It’s tangible. It’s rational. Evolution is real. How can anyone look at the proof and deny it, yet provide no proof of any god and believe vehemently in it? Maybe if religion allowed science to work with it (which I believe it can – time was undefined during Genesis, so why couldn’t seven days and nights really have spanned ages? Just saying.), then I could more readily accept it, but religion is determined to fight science. Why is it so wrong to donate a woman’s eggs to science in the name of curing diseases and healing disabilities? Especially if it’s a woman like me – I am NOT going to use them. Why be wasteful? Stem cell research has the potential to help cure so many things, and if there are people willing to donate to the cause, they should be allowed to. No one tells me I can’t give my cat to a shelter because I don’t want it anymore – and that’s a real, living, feeling creature – so why can they tell me I can’t give my eggs?

I’m not an expert on any of this, nor do I wish to be, but I’m so tired of it all. I’m tired of hearing about people being pissed that their kids’ schools have removed prayer, but it’s okay for government to deny gay couples the legal right to wed because it’s morally objectionable (to who? Oh, yeah. To the people who were pissed about taking God off our money). RELIGION defines marriage as being between man and woman. The Constitution has no such definition, although amendments have been proposed to do just that. How is it okay that religion dictates what the law allows? It’s not okay. Religion should have absolutely no bearing on what our legislative body does.

It is repulsive to me that so much merit was placed on the religious affiliations of the candidates in the last election. I know many, many Christians who go to church but lead morally questionable lives. Just because you are a Christian, or a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Buddhist or a member of any religion does NOT mean you are a good person. It apparently DOES mean, however, that you have some consecrated right to judge those around you and tell everyone what they can and can’t do. Fuck that. I want no part of that. I want to live my life, enjoy my life, without carrying around the Catholic guilt. Just typing this makes me feel incredibly guilty.

I have no problem with people wanting to have something to believe in. Whatever that is, God, Allah, Jesus, Buddah, I don’t care. You have that right to choose. And I have the right to choose none of the above. With that comes the right to not be made uncomfortable for making that choice. I can be confused about religion and angry about it. You can think I’m ridiculous for putting so much thought into it. That’s the beauty of having rights, the beauty of why this country was founded. I value diversity. I actually really love learning about religions – they fascinate me. But that doesn’t mean I have to buy into any of them. People cry about how corrupt our government is, but have you ever stopped to consider how corrupt religion is as well? It’s inescapable. The bottom line is this – I try to be a good person. I believe I AM a good person. And that’s enough for me. Keep the rest of that crap away from me. If I want to hear it, I’ll go to church. You can keep your prophet pizza. I’m full.

And just in case you’re not offended yet…

Nom nom nom 

Wrong, but you laughed!

Speaking of talentless whore biscuits…

posted on Monday, February 11th, 2009 under Things that piss me off |

KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY ROB! Okay, OUR Rob. He is far too delicate for the conniving mind games from the likes of Paris Hilton and I demand that she keep her famousfornogoodreasonincomprehensiblyoveradmired mitts off our man.

And to the Jonas Brothers…if you make it onto the New Moon soundtrack, I won’t buy it. If your song is in the movie, I will clap my hands over my ears and go “Blah blah blah blah I can’t hear you” in the theater while your shit you like to call music is playing. You don’t deserve to even have your name printed in the vicinity of those such as Muse and Paramore, much less actual craptastic music played in the same playlist. Go away. We don’t like you and we don’t want you in our perfectly crazy little vampire world.

Now, back to work…

Awwwwww, nuts.

A rant about famous peeps

posted on Monday, February 9th, 2009 under Things that piss me off |

Attention, famous people:

Remember when you were seven and dreamed of being a famous actor/actress/singer/dancer/sports player/whatever? Then do you remember how you were lucky enough to be part of the 1% of the world population to actually realize that dream? Remember how you don’t actually save lives or teach people shit but you still make bazillions of dollars each year?

Yeah, about that. Sweeten the fuck up already! Don’t bitch about your autograph session running long because SOOOO many people showed up. Don’t act like signing an autograph is a huge deal – you used to DREAM about people wanting your autograph. Careful what you wish for, ass faces. Now people do and you complain about it? Go fuck yourself. Seriously.

Newsflash: You are not ENTITLED to anything. You are lucky to have such great talent (no matter how questionable some people might find that talent) and to be paid so richly for what you do. Sure, you put in long hours (hello, so do the rest of us struggling to make ends meet). Sure, you do get harassed by unfeeling paparazzi (that is a bit ridiculous, but again, you chose this lifestyle). Sure, you have to put up with tabloids and rumors and unflattering photographs (see previous parenthetical statement).

HOWEVER…you signed up for this gig. You make an ungodly amount of bank to put up with the attention. DEAL.WITH.IT. I don’t want to stand in line for an hour to hear your diva ass (Barrett Jackman) ask when they are going to close down the line because your session should be over soon. Don’t scream at people on set with you because you feel they’ve negatively affected your performance in some way. Don’t snub your fans’ requests for autographs because you’re too busy or too tired or too important to take a second and remember that THESE are the people that make it possible for you to be so impossibly well off. These are the people you wanted to adore you. This is what you were after when you chose this path. So stop being a little bitch and deal with it.

And don’t subject your children to this lifestyle because they never chose to be a part of it. There are plenty of famous people whose children successfully remain out of the limelight, so don’t act like it can’t be done. Read some more science fiction, start another ridonkulous religion and leave Suri out of it. 

Oh, and just because you do a few good things (or a lot of good things) with your fame does not give you the right to ruin someone else’s marriage. That’s right, Angebimbo, I’m talking to you.

And, Paris, what the HELL ARE YOU FAMOUS FOR???? I mean, besides being a brainless slut with lots of money…your last name means nothing to me. You were born into privelege, but that does not entitle you to a damn thing. Take your skanky fishface somewhere else. Oh, and your perfume? Spot on. Smells just like talentless whore biscuits.

Hey, Jonas Brothers…when you grow up, could you maybe grow some talent? That’d be great. In the meantime, I’ll continue not listening to any of your sad little attempts at music and file you and your pathetic hairdos away with Miley and the rest of the Disney Skankiversity graduates.

I think I’m done now…I feel much better.


Ow. My brain.

posted on Monday, January 20th, 2009 under General Ramblings, Things that piss me off |

It’s Tuesday, but I took yesterday off to hang with my mom, so it’s really my Monday. And has it been one hell of a Monday. First of all, I’m congested and snot-headed. Thanks for sharing the cold virus, Mr. T. I owe you one. My nose is full, but not the runny, can’t breathe full. It’s the dry-feeling but booger-filled stuffy that makes you breathe too loudly full. It’s the painful booger full. You know, when you have sharp boogers that stab the other side of your nasal cavity if you scratch your nose at just the right spot and then your eyes fill with tears from the pain and you have to go pick your nose before you go completely berserk…that kind of full. Gross.

Then, the actual work environment has just been weird. Almost everyone came in late (we’re talking 10:00 late) and the energy is so weird. My boss brought in a TV so we could watch the inaugural ceremonies (which no one did because, well, we’re at work…implying that we are working…). Seems innocuous enough, but then she left a status conference call to come over and ask if anyone has a hanger with them so she can get reception on said TV. I have to laugh – who brings a hanger to work? We’re not lawyers with court dates, we’re ad peeps with holey sweaters and stinky shoes. And who still has a TV that needs rabbit ears? Enough to merit the DTV crap, obviously, but still. And why was that important enough to leave a meeting? I mean, she wouldn’t have left if she was vitally needed at that instant, but it cracked me up. She swears she’s not ADD, but I have some bad news for her…

Things just seem off today. And I have a little vent about the inauguration. Preface: I voted for Obama. I think he could do amazing things for our country. That said, before this morning, HE WASN’T EVEN PRESIDENT YET. Aside from his duties as senator, he really hadn’t DONE anything. So why are they already planning on renaming the part of Delmar where I work after him? Yes, it’s a sign that our country is coming around that we have elected a black president. Race personally has no influence on me or my decisions, but I do understand how that alone is a huge deal. He promised to do great things as president and I hope that he does. But why does he ALREADY have 3 books out? Okay, two for him and one on his wife. That’s kinda worse. Really, what has SHE done??? She just married well! Sheesh! I guess I should read the book…but seriously, people. Obama better not fuck this up. As much hope as he has inspired, he is still a politician. And that alone guarantees a certain level of disappointment (*cough* Gene Robinson fiasco *cough*)…

But I digress…back to the actual inauguration. Yes, I know this is historic. I know his election and inauguration mark a major turn in American history. HOWEVER…I also know that our economy is in shambles and in desperate need of help. So explain to me why it’s okay that all this money was spent on the biggest inauguration ever. He claims to be against excess government spending, so why didn’t he put his foot down on this? It just seems extraordinarily wasteful to hold such an expensive series of celebrations when the unemployment rate nationwide is skyrocketing, families are continuing to lose their homes daily and the stock market is unstable at best. Sure, not every party is government-funded, but still. It’s my personal opinion that he would have done well to request the spending be kept to a minimum. The security alone has got to be wreaking havoc on the national debt…

Rant over. Good luck to our new prez – he’s got a hell of a job to do. Let’s just hope his election platform wasn’t all talk. Here’s hoping the next four years bring the change we were promised and so desperately need. Gobama! Don’t fuck this one up.

Oh, please be true.

It’s just not right.

posted on Monday, January 15th, 2009 under Things that piss me off |

When someone asks you what the temperature outside is, you’re not supposed to say, “Four.”

Golfers yell “FORE!” to warn others of errant shots.

When someone asks my husband how many cupcakes he wants, he’s likely to say, “Four.” 

When asked how many siblings one has, it’s perfectly acceptable to reply, “Four.”

If you ask what “para” translates to in English, one correct response is, indeed, “for.”

It’s just not right for that to be a reply associated with the temperature.

Winter can suck it. I’ve been over this season since before it officially began. And Yahoo!, I don’t need visual reminders that it really is only four degrees outside. Pretend I live in Hawaii. I’ll give you a new ZIP code in a minute…



posted on Monday, December 22nd, 2008 under Things that piss me off |

You are in big trouble, missy!

Look what she did to me!

After I blogged about being a scrooge, this is what I get, huh? A tag for holiday traditions??? Well, this is an easy one.

My holiday traditions revolve around being stressed out, too poor to buy the cool gifts I want to buy for my family and friends and really cranky. So why should this post be any different?

Christmas Eve belongs to my mom, stepdad and siblings. We open all our gifts and have a huge dinner, and once again, I am NOT getting Christmas pizza. Christmas day is a stressful clusterfuck that includes spending a few hours at T’s parents’ house with his family (I love them all except two, and those two never fail to make it a miserable experience…”Oh, my diabetes! I can’t make the crying kids a plate because I have diabetes!” Funny, your diabetes didn’t keep you from bowling until 2 AM! ”Oh, you did [enter some trivial piece of conversation of which the culprit was not involved here], did you? Well, I [enter some overexaggerated, lie-filled one-uppance here].”) Then we head over to see someone on my biodad’s side. This year, we’re going to Festus. No offense to those who live there, but that’s just miserable sounding. How can anyone get excited about visiting a city that sounds like a pus-filled wound?? A few days after Christmas, I go see whomever got screwed on Christmas day. So it NEVER ENDS.

I want to be rich. I want to be off work entirely for the holidays. I want Christmas pizza, dammit!

Since I’m such a miser, I won’t be tagging anyone. Take that, my lovely Pamster. Yeah, I bet that hurts. It burns, just like the coal in my stocking (which happens to packed away in the attic). But you know I still love you.