Thursday, April 26, 2012

10 Things Thursday!

Thursday, Thursday….it’s 10 Things Thursday – courtesy of my dear friend Miss Laura Belle! You list 10 random things and have a gumdrop fartin’ time doing it!


1. I know it’s crazy but I’m a fan of the show The Biggest Loser. It’s a trainwreck but I can’t turn away. On this week’s episode, a contestant named Kim went home at the end of the show and she was wearing a mint green and brown one shoulder ruffle dress that I would sell my soul to have. I’m been on the internet for hours trying to find it and can’t. If someone finds this for me – I swear I’ll fart a gold gumdrop and mail it to you. I will not rest until I find it.

2. I want it documented that my love for my best friend Jenny is off the charts. The proof is in the fact that I – Miss would rather have a day job sucking boogers out of baby’s noses with that blue bulb booger sucking thingy than have to call someone on the phone girl – called a complete stranger TWICE. To order orgasm-ic potato salad for her. If that’s not off the charts love – then I don’t know what is.

3. A 305 pound 6ft 10in inmate shanked a few guards this week in prison. If you hurt a guard, you’re considered a huge danger in ANY prison so you get shipped to Rambo’s prison. His prison gets the worst of the worst….the men that no other prison can house. Soooo Mr. 305lb-er who has an insatiable need to hurt guards will soon be Rambo’s responsibility. And people wonder why I don’t sleep.

4. For three days this week Rambo has been hauling liquid nitrogen and fertilizer and filling the tanker himself. Another dangerous job. Seriously – what is wrong with this man? Why can’t he get a job as a kleenex tester or a massage tester outer? Cripes.

5. I ate nearly an entire bag of almond M&Ms yesterday. Not a small single serving size….I mean a LARGE 15 serving bag. I pretend they are sort of healthy due to the almonds being wrapped inside the goodness of an M&M. They were the only thing I had for supper and I may have used all my extra WW weekly points on them but my God in heaven – they were worth it.

6. I’m going shopping all day tomorrow – alone. I hate shopping alone. Did I ever tell you why? Well, it’s because one time I was almost abducted by a creepy guy. No lie. He had sunglasses on and stood at the front of the store watching people enter to see if people were alone. He followed me through the store. He followed me outside and then I began running to my car. He started running after me. I got in my car and screeched away and when I looked back – he ducked so I wouldn’t get a good look at his face. I was so scared I didn’t even remember to call the police. I regret that to this day.

7. Tonight is a run night and I’m dreading it because my legs are still sore from running outside a night ago. What the twat is up with that?

8. I am obssessed with Amazon. Some weeks I order something from there every day. I cannot help it. Sue me.

9. I have a feeling I may go a tish overboard on buying OPI nail polishes tomorrow. Again, I cannot help it. I blame genetics. Or the planets or something.

10. I haven’t had a Mountain Dew for breakfast in OVER a week. Doesn’t that blow your mind and make your week? For realz. Your life is totally better knowing that right? I thought so.

11. I have to say this – so get over the fact that I have 11 things listed. A blogger friend texted me about bikini waxes this week and the funny thing is….it was just like a normal text to me. No gasp of horror or blushing or how dare she ask such a private thing response. Nope. All in a day’s texting with a friend. Waxing the vajingle. Totally normal. I love it.


Okay now I’m done – I swear! Can’t wait to read your 10TT posts!

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

WTF Wednesday....

Welcome to WTF Wednesday...where I list things that make me say "WTF"!!  Try it - it's fun!

I'm going to show you a picture of something that some of you may have never seen.  Some of you may know WTF they are and ALL of you should try them.  They are BETTER than Skittles and M&Ms combined.  They are rare and right now some people are getting $75 a pound for these suckers.  I just finished off a 1/2 a pound for $15.  They are 0 points in WW. 
The toppings?  Well - those have some points.

Feast your eyes on these MOREL mushrooms!!


Yah baby.  I LOVE the WW plan for this reason. 
If I have the points - I can still have a small glass of Pepsi!  Woot!

The only bad part about these morsels of paradise is how labor intensive they are to cook. 
Oh and how you have to go into the woods to get them.
Oh and the bugs and dirt in them.


* WTF is up with running outside being so different from running inside?  I mean really.  I ran and walked 3 miles outside today and nearly horked up a lung.  My legs hurt RIGHT AWAY and my lungs feel like I have pneumonia.  I was only out there for 38 minutes.  I can do 70 or 80 minutes on the treadmill and still want to keep going.  WTF is up with that?

* WTF is up with puberty coming to live at my house?  My daughter explained to me that due to the school nurse telling her that when a girl has her period, she needs to have good hygiene - that she will need to take a long, hot shower each day beginning NOW.

I said, "Yes - hygiene is always good but you don't have your period yet."
She said, "Yes - but some day I will and I want to be in the habit of taking long, hot showers."

I'll be contacting the nurse today to see if she'll be paying my "long, hot" water bill.

* WTF is up with me not having anything else to say WTF over?  It's just not right....but that's all I got.

Your turn!!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Weigh in, baggage and candy baths.

- I had a great weigh in today for Weight Watchers. Down 2.5 lbs to make my total 6.5 lbs. When I entered my weight online I got the whole “STOP – take notice – shit a brick – you’re losing weight too fast!” pop-up. I wanted to be able to reply, “Um…just you wait – some time around next week I’ll show a gain or lose just point 1 lbs. Calm the F down. This is what happens when you stop eating pizza 16 times a day followed by an IV drip of Mountain Dew. Mmkkaayy?”


- I watched the neighbor kids this weekend. Their mother is going through a really tough divorce. Before the kids came over, I told Banana that the neighbor kid, Amy and her siblings would be coming over for a while. She looked at me and dead serious said, “Mom – do you know that Amy comes with a lot of baggage?”

I said, “What?” I was thinking who the hell told her that? Shitballs.


She said, “Yah. Every time she comes over here she brings her makeup bag, her nail polish bag and her toy bag. She brings a lot of stuff with her.”

AKA “baggage” in the eyes of a 6 year old.

Cripes.

- Recently – extended family wise – the proverbial shit has hit the fan…and scattered all over the room and down the hall…and into the garage…and all over my world. That’s what it feels like anyway. It astounds me how dumb people think I am. For instance, a certain family member drank themselves into oblivion and passed out in a car. The police found them slumped over the steering wheel unaware of their own name. Later, after becoming conscious – this person swore to everyone around them “that they are diabetic” – which is why they passed out. Pay no attention to the liquor and pills in their lap. It’s the sudden onset of diabetes. Duh. Diabetics everywhere pass out randomly. Again. Duh.


F*ck me running. I mean really?

- My latest endeavor in life is trying to figure out how to snort M&Ms. Skittles are on the back burner. Right now I cannot get enough of the brightly colored little chocolate pieces of heaven. Truth be told – the MAIN reason I love Skittles and M&Ms is literally their color. They are so pretty all laid out that it’s impossible not to fall in love with them and take baths in them.


Honestly – think about it. Could you lay in a bathtub of Skittles or M&Ms and not smile? Not be blissfully happy? Not want to live there? Stay there for hours? Sleep there? Eat there?


Well – at least until they start melting. Wouldn’t it be cool though if all the colors melted on your skin and when you got out you’d be a literal human rainbow?


Yes. I am insane. Where have you been? I made that clear years ago.

That’s all I got today. I’m saving the good shit for WTF Wednesday. That’s just how I roll.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Dudes. This is like - hard.

I'm pretty sure that there are not going to be any gumdrop farts in this post.  I'm also pretty sure I'm not writing it from Care Bear Land.  And no - that doesn't mean I'm writing it from Sucksville instead.  I guess it means I'm writing it from somewhere in between.

I've been here before.  BUT the thing is - I haven't been here lately.  Not in a loooong time.

It's where I literally, physically, mentally and emotionally make the hard choices - over and over.  And it hurts.  And it feels good - all at once.

Let me explain.

Most of you know that I'm doing Weight Watchers.  This Tuesday completes my third week.  I have been loving it.  However, I feel like the first two weeks of any new diet are always gung ho and almost easy.  I'm down 4 pounds and it hasn't felt hard or restricting or awful or like I want to binge on Skittles.

Until week 3.

It's NOT hard to stay within my points.  It's not hard to see that I'm eating more fruits and veggies than I have in a long time.  It's not hard to feel amazing after getting back into a consistent workout pattern.  It's not hard to see the scale keep going down.  The basis of this plan is sound.  And good.  And simple.

I'm back to living the "healthy" life that I lived not too long ago - before I gained 30 lbs back.  Remembering the inner strength and motivation it took - has shocked me.  I find myself impressed with the fact that I did this successfully before..because now I remember that it's f*cking hard.

Excuses aren't welcome here in this kind of life.  They are just bullshit.  Nobody gives a damn if you're exhausted beyond belief and have nothing left to give for the day even if it's midnight and you're PMSing.

Some facts remain (for me anyway):

I have to pre-plan.  Left alone to my own devices for breakfast, lunch and supper - EVERY SINGLE TIME I will make the wrong choice.  I have to pre-cook massive amounts of chicken and broccoli and cut fruit and veggies and pack lunch bags for EVERY day.  I hate doing it but I hate doing a lot of things - like shaving my hooha - but dammit....I do it.

I have to work out.  My body does NOT lose weight by diet alone.  It never has.  It never will.  There IS time for this each day.  When I say there isn't - I'm alying.

I have to track my food.  Ridiculously.  Like when I decide to eat 6 M&Ms and my idiot brain says, "You don't have to count that - for F sake - it was only 6 M&Ms!" because the smart person in me knows damn well that if I do that every day by the end of the week I've eaten a shitload of M&Ms.  I have to do it my own way in a pretty book with custom made stickers and pretty pens and colors and mantras and goal lists!

It all sucks.  It's not fun.

For the past year or so I have literally not given a damn about what I eat, how much or when.  The exhileration that comes with that kind of eating freedom and not giving a damn about what I weigh is indescribable.  Seriously.  I have to control everything every damn day and not giving a crap about food is like my very own party every day with no consequences (just because I refuse to see them).

I gave myself permission to let go.  To stop planning.  Stop caring.  Stop buying anything healthy.  Stop caring.  Stop working out.  Stop caring.  Stop saying no to the 4th donut.  Stop caring.

I gave myself permission to say that Rambo loves me fat or thin - so nothing else matters.  I gave myself permission to believe that....refusing to know that was a lie.  I gave myself permission to buy bigger clothes and put away my small ones.

I laid myself off from healthy.  Unemployment for me was eating shit and not working out.  Always and never.

The thing is - for me - I have to realize being laid off is not an option for me.  There will always be employment for me in health.  I can't quit.  I can't survive without the benefits.  I need to punch in to my health and well-being every day with the same responsibility I do with my career every day.  I need to want to be and do more and advance in my health - just like I do in every other area of my life.

For me - it will always be a job.  It won't be fun.  So what?  Who said everything I have to do is required to be fun? 

This weekend was a white knuckle weekend.  I found myself bored and emotional and I literally said to myself, "You know damn well you aren't hungry but you're going to eat this chocolate because your mind is screaming that it will make you feel better - and you know it won't."...and I ate it anyway. 

Tracked it.  But the point is - I ate it. 

The inner fight and struggle I had with myself was epic.  I would say, "Sit down.  Drink more water.  You are NOT hungry.  This will pass.  Make a f*cking choice.  Grow up.  Your health is on the line.  You have the power."

Today that has been working.  I saw a new low on the scale...(even with the binge)...and sabotaging that is absurd.  Downright absurd.  It'd be like calling my boss to tell him I'm quitting because I'm not happy with the color of the walls in my office.

Absurd.  People would call that crazy.  Stupid.  Dumb.  Ridiculous.

Kinda like eating M&Ms to make me feel better about being bored or scared or hurt.

So yah - this is me.  Thinking like the above.  Actually having conversations with myself again about my choices.  For months I haven't questioned myself about a damn thing.  If I picked up my 6th piece of pizza - there was no loud booming voice in my head saying, "WHOA - what the hell?  You are full.  You have high blood pressure.  What are you doing?"

Nope.  I silenced that inner demon for a good long while and just lived and loved.  And I admit it was bliss.

Unproductive, damaging, unhealthy bliss but bliss nonetheless.

Bliss never lasts.  It usually comes to an end and it has for me.  I can hear the good inner demon questioning my bad choices.  I feel myself receptive to hear him.  And listen.  I have turned down SHITLOADS of bad food and restaurant choices and junk.  I have made myself start running again even when I haven't wanted to.  I haven't missed a single day of tracking. 

I became my body's best employee again.  I gave myself an unsolicited raise.

My God - the work is hard but it sure is rewarding.  It sure is worth it.  It sure is do-able. 

It's a whole different and new kind of bliss.  I've been there before.  I once owned it, made it mine and excelled in it.    Until I quit.  I all but resigned from health.

And now? 

I've been re-hired. 

Even if this shitty economy. 

Miracles do happen, huh?

Friday, April 20, 2012

BYOC - Bring Your Own Crazy!

It’s Friday – so it’s time for BYOC – Bring Your Own Crazy! We answer 5 questions to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break! Copy to your own blog and enjoy!


1. Do you have any siblings? What is your relationship with them? Good, bad, ugly?


I have an older brother, a younger brother and a younger sister. My relationship is the same with all of them. We rarely communicate regularly. Even though my brothers live just a few hours away from me – I only see them once a year or maybe twice. I see my sister more than that…but there are 15 years between us so we’re at different points in our life. All three of them are model material – seriously. It’s hard not to compare myself physically to them and I struggle with that a lot.

2. Let’s talk pizza. Do you prefer homemade or restaurant? What toppings are your fave?

I prefer restaurant or takeout. My absolute fave is a little place near where I live that has been in business for decades and is a Mom and Pop sort of place. Back 20 years ago when Rambo and I were dating – he took me there every weekend. It’s still my fave and I’m a plain Jane eater so the only kinds I eat are cheese, sausage or canadian bacon!

3. When is the last time you cried – in sadness and in joy?

I don’t know why I ask such hard questions! I don’t know how to answer them.

Let’s see. The last time I cried simply because I’m a stupid woman with hormones the size of the Titanic was when I watched Private Practice this week. Ugh – damn TV shows.

The last time I cried in sadness due to something in my life was December. Life was a whole shitcan full of sadness for a while then.

The last time I cried in joy? Holy shit I have no idea. I mean sometimes things my kids do or say or in relation to Rambo make me completely tear up and I have to try not to cry. Does that count?

4. Do you own a gun – one that is specifically yours? Do you know how to use it?

I have no idea why I’m asking this. It just popped into my head. I do not own a gun that is specifically my gun. That’s not to say that Rambo hasn’t tried for years to get me to have my own. He owns enough to outfit an army…including AK47 machine guns that would blow an elephant away. You know – because elephants are a real problem in Podunk.

In regards to using it – nope. I’ve never shot a gun. Held many but never shot one that I can remember (except a beebee gun). In the family – that makes me the odd one out. All the women on Rambo’s side have their own guns and shoot clay pigeons and stuff like that. Ever since my Uncle shot himself when I was 15 – guns took on a whole new meaning to me and I just can’t bring myself to embrace them…though I absolutely believe in everyone’s 2nd amendment rights.

5. Repeat question. Summarize your week!

My week has been okay. Busy it seems – as usual. Today in Banana’s class the letter “Q” marries the letter “U” so we’ve been getting wedding dresses and presents ready. I attend the ceremony today. It’s very serious. Ha!

I have worked out every other day and stayed within my points even with a few unplanned indulges. And let me just say I haven’t had a morning Mountain Dew for days! Canyou believe that shit? Yah – me either.

Oh and I get to see Jenny next weekend! Can you say “Praise Jesus!”? I might pee my pants I’m so excited.

Have a good weekend Skittles!

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

WTF Wednesday.

In Care Bear Land, I’m officially calling it WTF Wednesday. It’s a pretty good day for some random thoughts as I skip from cloud to cloud, farting gumdrops all the way. Join me, won’t you?


• I want to know why - on God’s green Earth - are grapefruits so labor intensive – thereby making me want to whip them at Explosive Man as he walks by for the 50th time? Seriously – how do you guys eat them? I do the whole slice it in half and eat the middle out with a spoon but I know I’ve seen my dad peel them like an orange. Both methods take FOREVER and I feel like when I’m done I got nothing but juice. Ever notice it’s like that with all fruits and veggies? What with the peeling and washing and cutting or whatever – is it any wonder why ripping open a bag of Doritoes and shoving my hand in is my first choice?

• This morning was meltdown city at my house. Banana didn’t get enough sleep and woke up and dressed herself. When she walked into the kitchen wearing skin tight too small black leggings matched with a tank top that was size 2T (she’s 6!!) – I knew we were gonna have some issues. I was staring at the mini me version of Pretty Woman when she was a hooker.

• Because our morning was so Leave it to Beaver perfect, do you wanna know what the last thing I got from my daughter today was…before I dutifully went off to work to pay for her food and board? She got out of the car and into the sitter’s arms and had her head on the sitter’s shoulder as the sitter walked up into the house and I pulled away. I looked at Banana and the little ass stain had the nerve to look right at me and stick her tongue out at me. My first instinct was to flip her off but then I remembered that would be inappropriate.

• My sister’s birthday is tomorrow. Last night I texted her and simply said, “Hey – in one more day you are gonna be OLD.” Wanna know her reply? She said, “Tis true. But I take comfort in knowing that no matter how old I get, you’ll always be more than a decade older than me. Yep, I said decade. It sounds so much worse than just saying 10.” To which I replied, “OMG – you are evil – like Cruella Devilla. Yep, I said Cruella. And you smell. So there.” -- Now don’t you wish that I was YOUR sister?

• I had my WW weigh in yesterday and lost 2.4 lbs….so I’m down 4 total. Still doing sprints, jogging and incline about every other day and feeling good.


• I have only had one slight migraine in the last three weeks and get this my Skittles…..I GAVE UP MOUNTAIN DEW. Well – I mean yesterday I didn’t have a single drop and none today either. And I don’t even have a headache. Are you spitting confetti and screaming at the top of your lungs for me – like right now – wherever you are? Seriously – there should be a parade or something because this is so monumental, don’t you think?

• Lastly, yesterday I walked into the bathroom by my office against my nose’s better judgement (I reeeealllly had to pee), turned and shut and locked the door, walked over to the toilet, looked down and…………walked my ass right back out of that bathroom as I swore out loud and said, “I just can’t do it.” All the ladies with offices around me cracked up because they heard what I said….and I just kept running to the women’s bathroom. To safety. I’m sorry – there’s just no way that I’m putting my ass that close to someone else’s poop that is still hanging out. By the way – we’re having tornado drills this week and THAT bathroom is my safety zone I have to go to in the case of a tornado. You can bet your ass that I told the HR department that I would rather face a tornado than go in that bathroom with co-workers. That is NOT a safety zone. Kill. Me. Now. I cannot deal.


And that concludes WTF Wednesday – which makes absolutely no sense and has no definition (kinda like my waist line). Hope you liked it!

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Hell is a nose dive mid-orgasm. Trust me.

Out of all the posts I’ve ever written – this one right here – ranks right up there with the most difficult. Seriously. Typing the words out is almost as hard as speaking them…which I also had to do and would have rather filled my ear with honey and laid on an ant hill.

This sucks pink plaid donkey balls. Gigantic NEON pink balls.

Remember a long time ago when I blogged about “shutting the door” during “dessert” between a couple so that curious little children didn’t interrupt you? And remember how I said my children are the spawn of Satan and just forget to knock and barge in even when I remember to shut the door? And I asked how you guys dealt with such things? And it was funny – ha ha – let’s all discuss this little thing in life that happens to us all.

Well – for me – it ain’t funny - any more.

It stopped being funny when it REALLY happened. Like big time.

Let’s rewind a bit so you can all be mortified with me, mmkkaayy?

The family goes to bed. Let it be known that my kids are fast faller-asleepers. Like within minutes usually. So they go to bed. Rambo and I go to bed. We have a discussion. For probably a good 20 minutes. We then decide it’s a good time for the horizontal mombo. Quietly.

Very quietly.

Now mind you – where we live it was windier than hell outside. I mean sometimes the house, windows and doors would make noise and at no point was the wind silent. Also – let it be known that our bedroom has one full room in between it before you get to our girl’s rooms. We are tucked back in the “west wing” as I like to call it.

And did I mention we were being quiet? Like “our kids may still be awake” quiet – not “I’m a porn star so the louder the better” quiet.

Things are going well.

Until.

I suddenly hear footsteps. Loud, pissed off footsteps.

What the what?

It’s not a normal thing to go from bliss and oblivion to sheer mortified dread and panic within the span of one second - when it finally registers in your brain that YES - you DID indeed hear footsteps.

Both Rambo and I hit the deck…I mean the bed. Face plant at lightening speed.

Just as my child storms into our bedroom and says in her most aggravated voice, “Do you want me to close the bedroom door because I can hear you out here.”

And me being the ever truthful, mother of the year says, “Hear what?”

She repeats herself. “Do you want me to close the bedroom door because I can hear what you are doing in here.”

I am still confused. I’m still reluctantly leaving paradise island and running smack into parenting hell.

I reply, “I don’t know what you are talking about. We aren’t doing anything.”

Clearly I’m not going to get any help from Rambo. He’s still face down in the bed. I have no idea if he’s even alive.

She turns on her foot. Huffs. And walks out – and SLAMS the door behind her.

I feel like a 15 year old who just caught by my priest doing the pool boy – standing naked – and saying “what – I didn’t do anything”. This so isn’t how it looks.

Even though we all know it certainly is.

Thank every God imaginable that our room is pitch black and I could not see her face and she couldn’t see us.

With the door slammed shut it’s even more pitch black. And silent.

Finally I say, “What do we do now?” Rambo says he doesn’t know. (oh look – he is alive!)

I say, “Hmmm – that’s quite the mood killer, isn’t it?” Rambo says, “My God – was she sitting outside the door? We were so quiet.”

He then says, “This sucks. I want a do over.”

To which I reply, “You can finish if you want” - knowing with everything in me there’s no way that’s ever gonna happen.

He says, “Um, I did. I mean I was – right as we both dove headfirst into the bed. Um, we’re going to need to wash the sheets.”

Oh. Hmmm…well that’s good – I guess. Do I have to go talk to our daughter?

He replies, “Yah – I think you better.”

Dammit – I knew that’s what he’d say. Also – let’s just note the large difference between a man and a woman’s thinking here. I’m thinking “I’ve just scarred our child for life” and he’s thinking “damn – I need a do over – that didn’t go like I planned.”

Christ.

So I go in her room and of course – she’s reverted back to being a child and has her head completely covered in a blanket and can’t even bear to look at me and yells “get away from me” – like I’m Bigfoot. Ugh. Is this the same kid that just barged into my room to state her position?

I do the whole, “I apologize. I thought you were asleep. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

And in one of my best, shining moments – I decide to put a positive spin on the debacle of a shitstorm that just happened by saying, “Aren’t you glad you have parents who make love instead of ones who don’t or fight all the time?”

What the what? This is not a cup half full situation. No matter how you look at it – what just happened sucks.

The next day in the daylight I talked to her some more. She of course, still looks at me like I’m Shrek’s first cousin and I explain that no matter what she heard – no one was hurt. I tell her as a kid when I heard my parents that’s what I thought – but it’s not the case. I told her moms and dads have sex. It may seem gross to her but it’s what they do. I told her it SHOULD seem gross to her…because she’s a child.

I told her although I wish this hadn’t happened – that I’m not embarrassed because there’s nothing wrong with her dad and I doing what we did. We’re married and in love and it’s okay. And I swore no matter what – doors will be shut now and I apologized again. I told her nothing has changed. We still love her – she still loves us – we’re all very happy. Let’s move on and if she ever has any questions I will answer them.

I ended by asking if she was alright and if there was anything she wanted to say to me.

Do you know what she said? With her red, puffy, embarrassed eyes?

She said, “I want to do more of this. This – just you and me talking together.”

I guess my lesson learned here is – even if the subject is mortifying – she still needs and wants more of me. And that’s a good thing.

The night before – after I briefly talked to her right after IT happened – I went back to bed. Rambo and I laid there in the pitch black. Silence. Staring at the ceiling. Wanting desperately to rewind and undo the horror of our embarrassment. For a good couple minutes.

And then Rambo broke the weird silence. Do you want to know what that dickhead said to me?

He said:

“Well, at least you have something to blog about tomorrow.”

He is a mother heifer if I ever knew one.

I’d also like it documented that my best friend took it upon herself to laugh hysterically when I told her this story.

I hate them both.

Not as much as I hate nose-diving mid-orgasm….but they rank right up there.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Thee leather biker vest.

My blogger friend, Mrs. Fluffy, asked if I was ever going to show my new leather hoochie mama Harley gang club member vest.....so I thought I'd humor her and take some pics.

Now - my patches aren't sewn on yet because I just can't figure out how to place them yet.  Here are a couple of demos though...


There you have it!  Nothing too exciting!  I need MORE pink patches, don't I?

And um yes...I bought the "Who needs big tits with an ass like this?" patch for the back of the vest!

Aren't you proud?

Vagina botox...and a little tattoo talk.

You know how I get 20 shots of botox in my little armpits so that I don't sweat through my shirts?  Wellll...I want botox in my vagina.

Honestly.

If I were in a public gym - I'd probably get asked to leave for inappropriate sweating.

Want proof?  I can't believe I'm going to show this or that I sat around taking pictures of my sweaty vagina...but I did.

Look.


Yup - that's my sweaty crotch after a 67 minute workout.  Blech.  Does anyone else sweat profusely here??  Please tell me it's not just my hoo-haa.

I mean - it's not the ONLY place I sweat.  My back does its fair share.  And yes - I do have on orange striped underwear...which again would be cause for them to throw me out of the gym. 

Gone are the days of fashionable working out with pretty pony tails and cute workout gear.  Nope.  Not when I work out at home.



Oh oh - seeing the above picture reminded me....

I got my latest tattoo drawn up!!!!!!!!!

I'm so freaking excited.  Rambo will be getting his arm band at the same time.  His is going to be black only.  Mine?  18 bazillion bright colors.  So many that mine is almost double his cost.  I'm adding to a current foot tattoo all the way up to close to my knee.

Sunflowers (I've always been drawn to them), 3 mushrooms (all bright colors), 1 morel mushroom (this is the most meaningful part of the tat but I don't really want to talk about it because it's both painful and happy), 2 or 3 little flying fairies, and tons of English ivy.

Can't wait to show it to you all!  My appointment is in about a month!

Now tell me -w hen you work out -where do you sweat the most?


Friday, April 13, 2012

BYOC - Bring Your Own Crazy!

It’s Friday, my Skittles! That means it’s time for BYOC. Bring Your Own Crazy! We answer 5 questions in an effort to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break! Copy to your own blog and enjoy!


1. Whether you’re a parent or not….what do you think the appropriate age is to talk to a child about “the birds and the bees”?

• I’m selfishly asking this because this week “the letter” came home. You know the one. The one that says a nurse will be coming onsite to talk to my child about sex and periods and genitals and puberty.

• Watermelon is 11 and in 5th grade. It’s one of those things I knew would come but I never imagined it’d feel this weird when it did. Weird like I still feel too young to have a kid old enough to talk to this stuff about!

2. What’s the color scheme in your bedroom?


Sage blue, chocolate brown and cream with a little safari d├ęcor in it.

3. What kind of shampoo and conditioner do you use on your hair?

• Again, another selfish question. I’m about out of my shampoo and am looking for a new kind. I like to change it up and have never loved one kind enough to stay loyal to it. I’ve been researching Wen products since my bestie mentioned them…does anyone use those?

I currently am finishing up some morrocan/ginger oil shampoo. Can’t even remember the brand.

4. And since it’s nearly summer time…do you paint your own toes, go some place for pedicures or not paint your toes at all? What’s your fave toe color?

I wear flip flops and sandals to work constantly so my toes are definitely painted. 90% of the time I do my own and even paint fun designs on them. 10% of the time I splurge and find the time and money to go get a pedicure.

I use colors on my toes I would never use on my nails. Like bright blues, greens or even reds. I don’t do red on my nails or purples, blues or greens so I LOVE to use them on my toes. My fave is still a french on both nails and toes.

5. Repeat question: Summarize your week!

This week was good. I have stayed within my points range and have continued to work out. Last night I did 30 second sprints up to 6.2mph. First time in a while so I took it slow. It feels good to get back into regular workouts and I’m eating so much healthier on Weight Watchers. Still fighting some pretty major fatigue from my migraine meds BUT I’m beginning to get more sleep and haven’t had a migraine in a while. YAY!

Nothing to do this weekend except clean. Oh joy.

Seriously. Someone just kill me now.

Tootles Skittles. Have a gumdrop farting, unicorn dancing, Care Bear cloud kind of weekend.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

The state of "affairs".

I was perusing the news online – gathering my usual political research for the day when I saw a headline in the Entertainment section that read:


Why you should keep your affair to yourself.

Now besides reading online all the time, I read a lot of girly magazines and such too. I have to say that never, ever have I seen a magazine, writer or blogger – woman or man – tell people that have had an affair – to keep it a secret.


Have you?

Kudos to the author of this article on finding a title that sucked me in. I clicked on it.

Here it is if you want to do the same:

And then – she got me again. With this article titled:

How an affair saved my marriage.

I mean really….that’s not a title I’ve often seen. It’s usually in big, black, ugly lettering saying the opposite…as in “how an affair ruined my marriage.”

I see THAT article all the time. So again – the rarity of this title sucked me in and I clicked on this one too.

And then because I was procrastinating at work even more – I got caught up in the comments to the author regarding this article.

Holy shit….people have got some opinions on this and might I say that most are not good. In fact, of the ones I’ve read it doesn’t seem that ANYONE agrees with the author.

They kind of think she’s scum.

Without even knowing her. Seeing her face. Living her life. Feeling her joy or her pain.

Just based on her words and opinions and actions with two men the readers also do not know and never will.

Judgement sure does run amuck in our society, doesn’t it? I mean – I’m not saying I think she’s right or wrong….I’m just saying who the hell am I to make that call?

Who says what is right or wrong? Your God, your bible or my rules and my ancestors? Are your morals automatically mine? Your opinions the only truth? Your sins the only forgivable ones? And who gets to say you’re forgiven? Who gets to cleanse you?

I don’t know.

This is a touchy subject. It’s about love and hearts and marriages but I’m working on my own one-sided viewpoints about all those things. Love and marriage does NOT mean the same thing to everyone. It doesn’t have to. And that doesn’t make anyone better than or less than me as a person.

It just makes them different.

I could be wrong. They could be right. But I’ll never know if I don’t drop my need to judge instantly based on very few facts.

Her marriage isn’t mine. If she believes her marriage is better now – woohoo – good luck honey. If she believes affairs should be kept secret….have at it.

Don’t tell me what to do in my marriage and I won’t judge you for what you do in yours.

It sure is fun to talk about though. I mean it’s a pretty taboo subject that isn’t talked about openly much. My girlfriends and I don’t sit around and talk about the affairs they may or may not have had. It’s more of a private talk you have with one person you really trust.

I’ve been close to a few people who have had affairs and open relationships. I’ve never known a woman who has had an affair and kept it from their husband. I wonder if that’s possible. Wouldn’t it eat a person alive as they went on in time? I think if it was a one night thing with no details like names and such – then maybe. But an actual affair with emotions and details – even if it’s over – would be sooo hard to live with forever.

What do you think? Should affairs be kept a secret? Can an affair be good for a marriage? Why? Do you base your opinions on your religion and morals or just on how you feel about love and life?

Do tell…..

You gotta admit this author definitely put a new spin on this subject, right?

Now, let’s discuss! I love a good debate and I’m SICK of politics right now!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

A fearless warrior.

Sometimes I wonder how I have attained even the smallest measure of success in my life – with demon lizards on my shoulder, chunky Sheniqua on my ass and the biggest hangup I possess hanging out with me 24-f*cking-7.


That huge hangup is ANXIETY….which in reality for me - is fear.

Sometimes it cripples me. Always it weighs me down.

Sometimes it’s just too much extra baggage to carry. Always I just want to be normal.

I used to be able to hide it better. Before I took on two extra jobs. And before Rambo became even more politically involved than he was previously. And way before he took on his 4th job as a semi driver.

Being social wasn’t so much of a requirement. One full time job for me and one for Rambo at the prison – neither required nothing of me outside of our home.

Now?

It feels like the phone never stops ringing. People never stop coming over. I’ve turned off the instant chat messaging on my Facebook. It’s impossible to stay a hermit these days.

So the anxiety level is often through the roof. The tension in my body is something I physically feel.

I say it’s a wonder I’ve been successful because my extra jobs and Rambo’s require phone calls and visits and meetings. All things for me that induce hives and often make my stomach physically hurt.

I wait until the last possible moment to “speak” to anyone. Even when it’s not business…like last night a friend called for the second time. On my cell phone. That I was holding in my hand.

I watched it ring. I couldn’t pick it up. I let it go to voicemail and heard her “annoyed tone” that this was the second time she called and could I call her back?

Um nope. But I’ll text you in the morning. Which I did. I did not call her. I could not.

There are only about 3 people I speak to without hesitation. Rambo, Jenny and my mom. That’s it. Everyone else is questionable and highly unlikely.

I use email like it’s the only form of communication on earth. I text about everything. Anything to not have to talk to or make eye contact with someone.

All of this makes me angry. It pisses me off. Even if I love you – it’s hard to talk to you or spend time with you or leave the house for you….even when everything in me misses you and wants to talk with you and love you.

I wish I could just say to everyone – how I behave or stay away or cancel is never personal. It’s all on me. And I’m sorry. Please understand.

I cannot control it…but I can force myself to fight it. I don’t want to be the girl who never shows up. I refuse to miss out on everything in life because of some asshole chemicals in my brain that try to control me.

And even if I could just tell people – I’m not sure they’d believe me. The people I have told often are in shock. I get the “but you look like you’re having so much fun” – “how can you be covered in hives and want to throw up when you’re so happy?” questions.

Ugh. Listen – my MIND is overjoyed to be here with you – people I love. My ENTIRE BODY on the inside is revolting and by the time I get home I’ll be sick. I’ve had 30 some years to master never letting it show….but trust me…I’m dying on the inside.

Pride wouldn’t let me tell you anyway. Instead of accepting this is a part of me and learning not to blame myself – there is still shame in not having the strength to have overcome this after all this time.

Irrational? You bet. Still true? Absolutely.

There is still hope for me though. In figuring out how to stop my 4 a week migraine cycle – I finally had to admit to my doctor that I suffer from debilitating anxiety.

I looked her straight in the eye and said, “I want to be in this office with you figuring my health out. I admire and respect and like you. I am not afraid of you. Yet I almost cancelled this appointment and didn’t come. My body would rather be anywhere but here. But my mind is exactly where I want and need to be.”

And then I showed her my chest. Covered in hives.

Her response?

There’s no way things like this should be this hard for you. The amount of exhaustion you feel mentally and physically every day must be crippling you.

Um yah. By the way…speaking of exhaustion…I don’t sleep and if I do it’s never restful.

Holy Christ – no wonder you have migraines.

Sigh. I finally did it. I finally told a doctor the whole truth. It nearly killed me but then again – so did the migraines, anxiety and insomnia.

Fear of judgement is a powerful thing. Fear of being thought of as weak. Fear of not being in control. Fear of feeling shame and guilt. Fear of being less than the person I pretend I am.

Just fear. A little 4 letter word that can ruin me ….if I let it.

Little by little, I am learning to let go of the fear and shame….

….and embrace the warrior in me.

Warriors don’t get hives. They are fearless.

And

So

Am

I.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Getting gas half naked.

Have you ever worn your underwear to the gas station? Like as in “not under your pants”?
Like as in *only* your underwear?

Rambo has.

Apparently he is the actual definition of a beyond exhausted sleep deprived hick. I’m so lucky to be his wife, huh?

He took a shower after a 16 hour day in the semi so that he could go up to the gas station and get gas. He drove up there. Got out of his car, stood up and thought, “Oh crap – I better make sure I have my wallet. I bet I put it in my shorts pockets.”

He takes both of his hands and moves them in a downward motion like he is going to check in his shorts pockets and realizes there are no pockets on what he is wearing…which is odd. So he looks down and realizes he’s not wearing shorts. Just his boxer underwear.

In public. At the gas station. Where the whole town hangs out.

Oopsie.

No wallet. No clothes. No gas.

Tired much?

I’m surprised it didn’t make the front page of the paper. Oh wait – our town is too small…we don’t have a paper.

Other than the above debacle, not much is new. Unless you count the very fun fact that I bought my leather motorcycle vest now that I belong to the “club”. I then bought my patches so I can get “patched in”. Then I proceeded to buy about 6 or 7 patches that ALL contain pink in them. I refuse to have my vest look like all the others. Blacks with brown/yellow-ish patches. Acky-poo.

Nope – mine will have PINK all over it if it kills me. I even figured out a way to put pink laces all the way down the sides.

Rambo just laughs at me. Some day I’ll have my very own pink bike to match my vest – I promise you. I’ll have to take a picture of my cool patches for you guys.

Today is my second WW weigh in. I don’t want to say I’m dreading it because I’m not. Not in the way of “OMG – I have been eating shit and not working out” dreading it….but in the way of “I ran/walked a total of 70 minutes on the treadmill last night and was dripping with sweat and today my muscles are very sore and retaining water so my weight is up” kind of dreading it.

Even during Easter I refrained from going overboard. I know the scale will show a gain today BUT in my head I know that it’s not real. It’s from working out. My body always shows a gain after working out.

The key is to not let the fake gain get to me mentally. I’ve stayed within points for 2 weeks AND have consistently worked out and eaten more fruits and veggies and drank more water in the last two weeks than I probably have in the last two years SO the goal is to focus on that and know in my head that I am finally doing right by myself.

No matter what the scale says.

Later, my Skittledoves.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Ten Things Thursday - Drazzie style!

It’s Ten Things Thursday which means it’s almost the weekend! Can I get an AMEN?


Thank you Miss LauraBelle for giving us 10TT!!

Here are my random 10 things!

1. I’m not a fan of working with people stupider than me. Yes, I realize that was mean but it’s a fact. To be honest, I’d rather completely do their job AND mine the first time rather than RE-do everything they do. I mean really – why on Earth can’t everyone be just as smart as me? I’m kidding. Sort of.


2. For Easter at the in-laws we are having a redneck feast. I’m not kidding. Rambo’s mother sent out invites and on the inside it said, “Hope you can make it to our redneck Easter!” By redneck – she meant we’re frying everything anyone brings. Last year we fried broccoli, the turkey, fries, onion rings, Reeses peanut butter eggs, ham rolls, small children, beans, peppers, cheese, the Easter Bunny…and anything else that was in the kitchen. We all stand out by the fryer and think of things to drop in it. It’s hillbilly at its best.

3. I am STILL kicking ass at Weight Watchers and am shocking even myself. Working out every other day and staying on plan. Go me!

4. My new preventive migraine meds make me more tired than a mother with newborn triplets. I do that whole “accidentally fall asleep, head drops to my chest and then I snap it back up and look around to see if anyone saw that” on a regular basis now. It’s redonkulous.

5. I ordered a bunch of pink and black patches to sew to my biker vest now that I’m an official member of the “hog club”. One of the patches says, “Who needs big tits when you got an ass like this?” God I love that. Won’t my mother be proud?

6. My camera broke. I am sad. Someone please send me a new one cuz I only use money to buy shoes. And purses. And clothes.

7. I want to move into a new house literally only because it would be clean…..rather than clean my own house that I live in now. It’d just be easier I think.

8. How is it that when all the snow melts and it’s suddenly spring that under all of that frozen shit is weeds? Holy shit. How does that happen? I have what feels like an acre of landscaping and the weeds that grew during the winter piss me off. Cripes and pink donkey balls. I do not have time for weed picking.

9. I have eaten 5 pounds of morel mushrooms so far and it’s only the first week of the season for them. The mushrooms themselves are zero points. Rambo goes out and tromps through the woods to pick them for me and I eat them in like 5 minutes. To. Die. For. It’s like eating gold. They are worth $30 a pound in some places.

10. Nothing was on TV the other night so I watched the season finale of “19 Kids and Counting”. It was the episode where they went in for their 5 month ultrasound and found out the baby had passed away.

Now – I’m not going to go into my views or other’s views on having 19 kids and how they live and such. I will say that the episode was incredibly touching. That little girl never lived a day in her life but man – she experienced more love and joy than some people who live to be 100.

the ultrasound tech told Michelle her baby had died – the first words out of her mouth were: “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

As I watched and she said that I thought, “My God – that is some kind of faith right there” and even in her deepest grief with tears rolling down her cheeks you could still sense a great peace in her. It was inspiring – no matter what you think of their lifestyle.

See you tomorrow for BYOC!

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Naughty children and a WW update!

Have I ever told you that my kids live outside if the temperature is above 40? When you make them come in – sometimes – there are even tears. The little one will have an all-out tantrum if she’s really pissed off about coming in.

So last night I got home and there stands Banana, the 6 year old. Inside the house.

Um – it’s nearly 70 degrees and she’s not outside?? Shitballs. Something is up.

I say, “Why aren’t you outside playing?”

“Cuz Daddy says I can’t go outside.”

“Why?”

To which Rambo replies….”read the note from the teacher”.

Double shitballs – with whip cream on top.

The note says: Banana was in trouble today for swearing at recess.

F*ck a duck and call it Larry. Where would she learn such f*cking words? I’m shocked, damn it!

When I asked her which word it was she said it was “a really bad one” and it started with “SH”.

Whew. Crisis averted. I soooo thought she was going to say it was the F word.

You better believe I let her continue believing that the SH word is the worst swear word there is.

She was repeating it with two other girls and all three ended up in trouble. I’d love to you tell that this is her first time in trouble but you all remember her filling a boy’s shoe up with water and her crawling under the restroom stalls and locking them from the inside, right?

Ugh. Well I remember. And I’m a little scared of the future.

Just a little.

Oh and yesterday was weigh in at my first Weight Watchers meeting. I’m down 4 pounds. Woot! I’m so proud of me. I didn’t even use all my extra points that I could have and I worked out a total of 3 times!

Onward to week 2! I worked out again last night…how about you?

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

I'm a whore. With cylinder nipples.

A certain kind of whore if you must know.  A "I like to shop online for hours every day" kind of whore. 

Feast your eyes on the below.  Tell me....is there anyone in this world who doesn't want these shoes? 

My God in heaven.  They are shoegasms in a box.


OMG - and how about these?  Freaking superSTAR shoes!



And all of a sudden, I have decided I want a long white skirt. 

Like this:


With a denim jacket like this:


AND?  Cowboy boots like this:


So for one day I can pretend to be a cowgirl.

I'll have you know - that as I was preparing this post....my 11 year old walked in squeezing her boobs saying, "Mama...they hurt so much!"  I said, "Yup - that's because they are growing."  To which she replied, "OMG - you should see Rose.  Hers are getting so big she's starting to get a nipple.  Like a cylinder.  That sticks out.  Like yours do."

Part of me wanted to say - "Um - when and why were you examining your friend's boobs so closely" but I refrained and just said, "You know what a cylinder is?"

See?  Mindlessly shopping for clothes all day is soooooo much easier and less embarrassing to talk about.