Saturday, February 23, 2013

Closet sale....mostly Coach items!

I just bought a new Michael Kors bag so I figure maybe it's time to sell some
of my Coach stuff that I rarely use.


White Leather Exterior
Trimmed in Caramel Leather
Front Pocket with Turnlock Closure
Coach Logo Emblem on Front in Silver
Carmel Leather Coach Hang Tag
Zip Top Closure with Leather Pull
48" Adjustable Caramel Twill Crossbody Strap
Opens to Beautiful Pale Pink Satin Fabric Interior
Measures approximately 8" (W) x 7" (H) x 52" (D)

I paid $75 for this item and have only used it a few times. 

Selling for $55.00 + free shipping!


I paid $75 for this item and it's in excellent shape.

Selling for $55.00 + free shipping!


Dark Blue Sateen and accent Lurex thread wristlet
Pleated front with Story Patch in Goldtone Metallic Leather
Flat back
Polished Goldtone Hardware
Goldtone dog leach swivel clip
12" strap forms 6” drop wrist strap for hand
Trim, strap and hang tag in dark blue patent leather
Coach Hang Tag embossed with “Coach”
Top closing zipper
1 interior compartment fully lined in Gray Sateen
Measures approximately 6” (L) x 4” (H) x .5” (D)

I paid $40 for this item.
It is in nearly new condition, rarely used.

Selling for $30.00 + free shipping!


Still has tags on it.
Retail $78 (that's what tags say)
7.5"L x 5.5"H x 1.25"D
7" drop wrist strap
I bought this for $60 on sale.

Selling for $50.00 + free shipping!

(I have the purse that matches this that I am willing to sell if anyone is interested.  Not listed here yet.)


Paid $15.  Selling for $10.00 + free shipping!

Thanks for looking!

Just leave a comment or email me at if you're interested.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Would you like your genitals ICY or HOT?

Or how about neither?

Some nights before I go to bed, I think, “Holy chicken turds. What on earth am I going to blog about tomorrow?” Then I do something incredibly stupid and potentially dangerous and instead of the first thing that I yell being, “OUCH” or “Call 911” or “I’m dying!”….nope – my very FIRST thought is:
YES – I can totally blog about this!

So here we go. I can’t make this shit up if I tried.

Last night I took a bath. I shined and shaved myself up all pretty like. I got out of the bath. Right before I could do my ritual of inspecting my work and lathering up every part of me with lotion, Rambo came in and said he needed help with something in the kitchen.

I go out to the kitchen naked.
He’s standing there naked.
He's trying to rub ICY HOT on his lower back until I take over because he hurt his back in the semi today.

And yes – we’re naked a lot. It’s very free-ing. You should try it.
And yes – our kids were in bed so Rambo’s parts weren’t just dangling about in front of them.
Tis just for muwah.

Anyway – I rub the ICY HOT into his back. I walk away smelling like an 80 year old man’s knee joint. That lovely pepperminty I’m old as hell medicinal smell that we all love.

I go back into the bathroom to finish my inspecting and lathering up routine. I look down at my shaving job in the nether regions and I’m pissed. I missed a freaking spot. So naturally I check it out further and make sure I didn’t miss more.


I still have ICY HOT on my mother-f*cking hands!!!

My vagina starts to tingle like it’s freezing. Then it burns.

You know? ICY HOT!

What have I done?

Then I stand there with my legs crossed holding my hoohaa like when a little kid says they have to go pee bad. That’s how I’m standing when Rambo walks in.

I say, “I think I ruined my vagina.”

He just looks…um..horrified. And confused.

I explain that I just ICEY-HOT-ted my vagina.

He of course, being the super smart man that he is says, “You’re supposed to wash your hands after you use ICY HOT! Wipe it off - quick.” I think he was getting a little scared at this point.

I yelled, “I tried that. It’s in my skin you heifer. OMG – what if I burned or froze off my vagina? I will die of embarrassment if I have to go to a doctor for this.”

He says, “Calm down. You’ll be fine.”

"Easy for you to say. Your penis isn’t on fire."
He’d have been loaded in an ambulance already had it been him.

I’ve now become the person that the manufacturer has to write stupid ass warning labels for. You know the ones on hot coffee that say, “Coffee is hot. Do not pour onto your leg and then attempt to sue us.”

Or “do not dip the hair dryer in bath water prior to using or YOU’LL EXPLODE you dumb ass.”

Or “do not stick a knife into the toaster to get your poptart out or you will be ELECTRICUTED you moron.”

Yah – those warnings that other people think are stupid – are for people like me.

Like the one on the ICY HOT package that says, “Do not put this on your genitals. It won’t feel good. In fact, your genitals will shrivel up and fall off. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

I went to bed holding my vagizzle. I told Rambo there was no way we were having sex because if any kind of friction touched me there I was sure the whole thing would explode into giant flames and there was no way I was explaining that to the 911 operator that I probably went to high school with.

He agreed.

My vagina stopped burning after a while.

Now it just smells like a 90 year old woman in a wheelchair.

At least it didn’t fall off.

Oh and Rambo’s back? Totally feels better.

Sue me if I could care less.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Where is your tonuge at right now?

I’m not joking. Where is the tip of your tongue right now?

Is it on the roof of your mouth?

I’ll tell you why I’m asking.
 Then you’ll have even more reason to think I’m the craziest person you know.

When I was in high school, some dude came in and gave us a speech on something. The ONLY thing I can remember from the whole speech is that he asked us all where our tongues were. Probably not a great opening line to a bunch of sex-deprived, raging hormone aged teenagers but he went with it.

The tongue is the largest organ in the body and therefore – according to this dude – where it rests says a lot about you and your state of mind. If the tip of your tongue is on the roof of your mouth – well then – according to him…you are stressed, anxious, not relaxed, etc. You have to actually PUT the tip of your tongue there. It doesn’t go there on its own.

If your tongue is on the roof of your mouth – you have to manually make it come down, right? He says that if your tongue is naturally down – not touching the roof of your mouth – then you are truly relaxed.

I think about this more often than you’d think. I have NO idea why. Probably because I’m always trying to find new ways to relieve stress and I can tell you that 99% of the time my tongue is up – with the tip touching the roof of my mouth. I actively try to make it come down but it never stays that way.

So where is yours? This could of course be a load of bullshit but who knows? It does take a bit of energy to put your tongue up and keep it there but it’s really hard to just let it rest down too, isn’t it?

Moving on.

Did you read that Kim Kardashian recently said she’d totally have sex with herself if she was a man just to see what it would feel like? First of all – I’m pissed I wasted time even reading the headline. Second of all – I want to shank her – HARD. Multiple times. Her ego is almost as big as her ass.

It’s a celebration week at work this week and you have to know what that means, right? Food. Shitloads of food. Fresh movie theatre popcorn all day every day for 5 days. Catered in breakfast today consisting of eggs, sausage and biscuits, hashbrowns, fruit and drinks. Jelly filled cakes tomorrow afternoon. It just never ends. Some would say it’s a perk. I say it’s not.

I didn’t do an update on my weight loss yesterday but have no fear – I haven’t fallen off the wagon or anything. I was however, up another ½ pound…bringing my loss for the year to just 9 pounds. I am still ahead of my schedule. I’m not upset about the gain because I know my body. I gain muscle quickly. I don’t think I’ve gained a pound in the last two weeks. I have continued to work out and do tabata drills and even the elliptical almost every day. I haven’t stopped prepping my meals and Rambo’s. I still am writing down everything I eat every day.

These are all really good healthy things and I can’t let the number on the scale take away the good in that. I’ll just keep going. I’m going to keep getting healthier anyway.

PS – my doctor appointment went well….I guess. My doc thinks my migraines are caused mainly by my lack of sleep. And once I go so many days with little to no sleep – my body reacts. That and the internal stress I carry. I don’t necessarily feel stressed but my body says I am. She gave me stuff to help me sleep and realllllly wants me to on BP meds because my BP is high. That doesn’t help migraines either.

So there’s that!

Thursday, February 14, 2013

My God, I love Valentine’s Day.

Now yah, I know all about the Negative Nancys that say it’s commercialized and it’s just a day for Hallmark and Russell Stover to make money but I say who cares? It’s good for the economy, right?

AND? It’s about LOVE. There is way too much hate in the world if you ask me so anything that encourages love and happiness and thoughts about others – well then – I say bring it on.

Although did you know there’s a company out there that will send dried up, rotten roses or a ripped up teddy bear to your ex if you want? Just throwing that out there.

Back to love.

So last night Rambo and I put out the huge teddy bears and little gifts we got each of our girls and then made them close their eyes as we each took a hand and led them into the kitchen. We counted to 3 and had them open their eyes and they screamed! My kids LOVE stuffed animals. And these were pretty big and fluffy and said “I Love You” on them.

I can almost guarantee they’ll have both of those stuffed animals for life. I have mine from 23 years ago from Rambo. It’s one of my most prized – and now ugly – possessions. I sleep with it every night.

They were sooo happy and huggy and just overly nice to each other. The “spirit” of love is so fun to watch.

Rambo had me close my eyes and turn around while he went downstairs to get my present. The girls were freaking giddy. He came around the corner and both girls just started screaming and yelling OH MY GOD DAD. You’d have thought he bought me Paris or something.

They were going crazy. He told me to open my eyes and there was a huge basket he had someone make for me filled with things I love. A stuffed puppy, champagne, bath soaps and lotions and pretty towels to go with it, chocolates and roses and who knows what else. I can’t bear to open it because it’s so pretty.

I took pictures so I’ll show you those soon. He told me that the girl makes a ton of them but none of them were right for me so he asked her to take parts of each one and told her what I liked and she made one just for him.

Watermelon said, “Awww Mom. He had it custom made just for you.”

He also got me a 3 stone antique looking ring with 3 yellow stones in it…his birthstone. It has a pretty high profile and I love it. I’ll take a picture of that for you too. It is gorgeous and it makes me think of him every time I see the yellow. I normally hate his birthstone but this is a light-ish yellow and it’s perfect!

I ended up getting Rambo a goofy card and I found the cologne he used to wear when we dated through high school and college. OMG – he smelled and looked so damn good back then (and still does if you ask me!)…and having this smell brings back sooo many good memories. I got him some turkey membership thingy he wanted and some trees he’s planting out where he hunts. Not very romantic but he was happy.

I have my migraine appt recheck today and I’m getting them nearly 4 days a week now so I’m really hoping she’ll prescribe Botox. Then I pick up the Tahoe and surprise our girls with it.

Tonight we have plans to have a goofy Valentine’s supper. We’re going to whip out the romantic candles and have a heart shaped pizza and I’m going to be an idiot and make all of us tell each other what we love about the other. The girls will laugh their butts off I’m sure. Then we’ll watch a movie together (after we work out, of course).

THIS is why I love Valentine’s. Because love is literally in the air. You look at each other differently and realize what you have and how lucky you are. You make an extra point to say it and show it and live it.

It matters. The day has always mattered to Rambo and I and I hope that never changes. Every day matters and the truth is that to me, it feels like Valentine’s every day BUT this one day it feels like love on sterroids.

You know, like your normal every day bubble bath.
Except the Skittles are all red, pink and purple today.

How can you not love that?

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

WTF Wednesday!

I’m feeling a little WTF-ish so Ima gonna do a WTF Wednesday post.

-A grown ass woman that I work with had on a black skirt with a black blazer, bright RED high tops (no – I’m not kidding you) AND a pin on her blazer. The pin was of Tinkerbell. Yes, like Tinkerbell – the flying fairy cartoon – back from when I was 4 years old. WTF!!! I can’t understand this. I mean – who gets up in the morning and says, “hmmm – these red high tops go great with this black pencil skirt and I’ll add this Tinkerbell pin to spice it up.”? Tell me who? I am not a fan of adults who wear cartoon-ish things. Shut up. Hello Kitty is not a cartoon. This rule doesn’t apply to me.

-Do you want to know why more people eat chips than fruits? Because. To eat a chip all you have to do is open a bag and instantly you can chow down. Fruit? No – fruit has to be difficult. It can take me 10 minutes to peel or try to spoon out a grapefruit and it’s a MESS. Orange? Same thing. Makes a mess, I’m all sticky and it takes too long. Peeling an apple. Not fun. Annoying banana peel that is left behind and smells. So damn inconvenient. Stupid fruits. WTF. (Yes, I am aware that they come pre-peeled. Too expensive and then I have nothing to bitch about so just roll with me here.)

-Whoever named little candy bars “fun-sized” should be shanked. Those are not FUN sized. They are TEASE-sized. A reminder that you shouldn’t eat a full candy bar-sized. Your ass is huge so you can only have this small candy bar-sized. You’re on a diet-sized. Still contains a billion calories-sized. I mean WTF. Seriously. They are not fun – unless you eat 16 of them.

-WhoTF ever told Barbara Streisand she could sing? They keep playing her songs on the radio in my office and I want to scratch my eyes out and shank her in her gigantic nose. It’s like Michael Bolton and Rod Stewart…they can’t sing. They are famous for their ridiculous physical thingys – like their crazy hair and big noses. But carry a tune? OMG – help me.

-I had on mint green jeggings the other day and I was sitting down – so they of course were tight against my thigh – as all pants are when you sit. I asked the woman (who shall remain unnamed) next to me what she thought of them. She said, “I prefer my jeggings to be less tight – you know – for girls like us.” WTF does that mean? Girls like us??? Us as in fat girls? What are you saying? I shanked her…in my head at least.

-Here is parenting in a nutshell. Banana asked for rice – plain. I gave it to her. She said, “Mom, can I have a little gravy?” I got back up and got gravy, warmed it up and gave it back to her and sat back down. She said, “Mom, can I have a little more gravy but not too much?” I got back up and got more gravy, warmed it up and gave it back to her and sat back down. She said, “Mom, there’s too much gravy. I can’t eat this. Can you make me something else?” I shanked her, told her to eat dirt and then had a nervous breakdown. I mean WTF!? The morale of the story is: Never have kids….much less cute ones that you can’t say no to. You’ll just end up shanking them.

-Rambo got me an early Valentine’s present. A white Chevy Tahoe….because I’ve wanted one forever. It came with a DVD player in the back and a moon roof AND he made them put remote start on it for free. That boy kinda rocks if you ask me. And I know that this is not the gift he has been telling me he has had for me for weeks. I still haven’t gotten him anything but a card. I suck. WTF is wrong with me?  (don't answer that.)

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Operation Kick Sheniqua's Ass Update!

I’m pretty sure that I’m supposed to be pissed off and sad because for the first time this year, I’m posting a gain – but the thing is – I’m not.

I gained ½ pound…which means for the year I’ve lost 10 pounds.

I don’t know how to be sad or mad about that.

I am 4 pounds AHEAD of my schedule that gets me to my goal by the summer. I planned to lose 1 pound a week and I’ve lost over that each week.

Last night I knew I had some damage to un-do from the weekend, so I got on the treadmill – having just taken a migraine pain pill. Yup, I stepped on the treadmill with a migraine…and I thought I might die. I was sure I couldn’t put in the workout I needed to if I was going to salvage my weigh-in.

But I did it anyway.

About 15 minutes in to my workout, the pill started to work and I started to do sprints.
My tabata/sprints look like this:

Walk at 3.0mph – 30 seconds
Walk faster at 3.5 – 30 seconds
Jog at 4 – 1 minute
Jog faster at 4.5 – 1 minute
Run – 5mph – 30 seconds
Run faster – 5.5 mph – 30 seconds
Sprint – 6mph – 15 to 30 seconds

I did this for at least ¾ of my workout – which was 75 minutes total. It sucked but it was also exhilarating. I was watching Biggest Loser and as the trainers yelled at the contestants, I pretended they were yelling at me.

Faster! Harder!

Suck it Jillian!

6mph for some may not be fast but I’m 5’3” tall so my legs are pretty short. At 6mph my legs are-a-spinning. I can go up to 7mph but after that I don’t think my legs can turn that fast. LOL

I was WAY under calories last night and it didn’t bother me. Not after over-indulging this weekend.
If you play, you gotta pay, right?

I didn’t let a couple of days over calories take me off track to meet my goal. I refuse.

I felt like I used to feel when I used to run 5 miles a day at 6mph last night. My hair was dripping like I had just gotten out of the shower…and I loved every second of that feeling. I was the closest I’ve been to the runner’s high I used to feel that I’ve been to in years.

I am getting there.

I am strong. I am powerful.

Most of all – I am worth it.

Pants I bought just a few weeks ago are falling off of me. This weekend I went into a store and tried on a pair of size 12 jeans and they were way too big. I always think I’m bigger than I am. They didn’t have a size 10 but they had a size 8 so I thought what the hell and bought them.

I tried them on at home. They fit.

Rambo came upstairs this weekend dressed up for our date night and he said, “Babe, look.” He stood there and was able to pull his pants completely off without unbuttoning them. LOL. Score!

Last night Watermelon hugged him and I heard her say, “Geez, Dad…you’re getting skinnier! My arms fit around you different!” Score again!

Side note: I still hate him. He’s ½ pound away from hitting 15 pounds lost. Jerkface. Once he loses about 12 pounds, he’ll be in a new decade and under 200. I asked him last night – what then? What’s his goal? We have no idea for him….never had the luxury of deciding what his goal weight should be. It’s weird for us to think about but for the first time in a long time…but we are.

We sat in the bathtub last night just talking about goal weights and what we weighed on our wedding day….ah….memories.

We’re not giving up….even after a bad day. We got back on the treadmill and elliptical.

Being up ½ pound doesn’t mean shit to me….because next week it’ll be gone.

I can promise you that.

Oh and for the year up to today…here are my stats!

32 total workouts out of a possible 42 days this year

380 minutes for this month for a total of 23.85 hours for the year

2457 calories burned for this month for a total of 9070.5 for the year

22.16 miles this month for a total of 78.219 for the year and 321.781 to go to reach my goal of 400

Monday, February 11, 2013

Thee absolute worst question I have ever been asked.

I bet most of you think this has something to do with weight…but you’d be wrong.

About a week ago – I was asked this question over instant chat on Facebook…and I nearly lost my shit and fell off my chair and hyperventilated – all at once.

There was no “Hi there. Hello. Or how have you been?” Just this doozy:

So how did the over-sized purple dildo with the suction cup work for you last night????

Now…let’s back up. Here are some facts about this question that make it simply horrid.

I don’t own such a thing so I can’t even find a good way to answer this question. I don’t often talk about big purple dildos (hence the hyperventilating) AND if the question hadn’t been asked by this certain person in my life – I might not have fallen off my chair.

Who asked me this you’re wondering?


By mother-effing accident.

Just take a second and imagine minding your own business on Facebook and your brother pops in whom you haven’t spoken to in months and asks THAT question. Imagine the feeling you’d get. Come on. Do it. Not very fun, is it?

He typed in the question in the chat box – like I said – with no hello or anything.

I typed back (after I composed myself)WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???

To which he replied sheepishly, “Oh shit. I didn’t look at who I was typing to and thought you were a friend of mine. She went to one of those stupid sex toy parties last night and I was giving her crap that she was going to buy a big purple dick that you could stick to your table. Um. Ooops. Sorry. It’s kind of funny though, huh?”

Um – NO. It’s the most awful thing I’ve ever talked with you about. We have to stop. NOW.

Maybe there are those of you who discuss such things or your sex life with your siblings but let’s all recap my relationships with my siblings. We see each other rarely and talk even less than that. We NEVER speak of shit like this much less the damn weather outside.

This was 50 shades of cray-cray like I’ve never been a part of. It scared me for weeks. Seriously.

Also, might I add that lately, due to that crotchface, Aunt Flo…I have the will power of an ant. I have been fighting the insane urge to BINGE bad. For the first time since the first of the year, I gave in a little and didn’t eat so great. I think also for the first time, I may post a gain or no loss tomorrow on weigh-in day.

It chaps my ass. I’m pissed. Pissed not in a sad way but pissed in a “I’m not going to put up with this shit or these excuses” kind of pissed. But you’ve been warned – tomorrow’s weigh in post might be pretty shanky.

Let’s end with a prison story. Because it’s fun, sort of.

Yesterday, an inmate called Rambo to his cell and handed him a bag of cereal and said, “My cereal bag was open when I got it. I was on the toilet when you sent it in so I couldn’t check it right away. I need a new one.”

Rambo looked at the bag and said, “You’re lying. I would have noticed a bag of this much cereal unsealed. What’s going on?”

The inmate insisted that is how the bag of cereal came to him.

Rambo went back to the security suite and replayed the video tape of just minutes before. It showed the inmate getting his cereal, opening the bag and pouring it into his bowl, spreading peanut butter on his bread and then accidentally knocking his cereal bowl onto the floor. It then shows him scooping up all the cereal from the floor and putting it back in the bag and calling Rambo.

Um, yah. Busted. Idiot.

Rambo goes back to the inmate and says, “Listen. This is what I know happened and now you aren’t getting any cereal and you’re getting written up for lying.”

The inmate is pissed and continues to scream over and over, “When I got the bag it was opened. That’s how I got the bag!!”

Good God – how dumb can you be? You’re ON TAPE idiot! Yet – he still screams that the tape is wrong.

It’s just sad sometimes the way their incarcerated brains work. Rambo says that had the inmate told the truth, Rambo would have definitely given him a new bag of cereal….but a man who has been in prison most of his life doesn’t understand the concept of truth.

And cereal is precious commodity to him. It’s all he has.

Little things like this are why inmates hate guards. Yesterday Rambo took away that inmate’s only moment of ownership and joy and gave him 5 days of segregration and no electronics for a week because of it.

The whole thing sucks.


I'm just a bundle of fun today, aren't I? 

Mondays suck donkey balls. 

The end.

Friday, February 8, 2013

24 hours in my head.

I’m pretty sure every one of you who reads this crazy ass blog has wondered to yourself, “Hmmm. I wonder what it would be like to live in Draz’s head for a day.” Right? No? Ugh. Whatever. Just play along, mkay?

Here you go – these are all things that have gone through and happened to my PMS-infested brain in the last 24 hours. Anyone who says that PMS isn’t real can suck my left toe. Twice.

*As I told my 12 year old that she’d be staying overnight with her Aunt for a fun night doing makeup, hair and nails she said to me, “I don’t want to go. My nails are already done.” I replied, “Fine. Sit in the corner and stare at the wall then.” Satan is her father. I’m sure of it.

*As I was getting ready to leave the house this morning, the 7 year old looked at me in horror and said,”Mmmoooooommm, you’re not wearing that to work today, are you?” YES – SNOTLICKER – I AM. I thought about explaining that my Vic Sec yoga pants and oversized Harley Davidson shirt are part of casual day but I decided to smack her instead. I’m kidding. Geez.

*Last night I was telling Rambo that for Valentine’s Day I’d just like him to say something romantic in words – out of his mouth or in a love note. He turns over – grabs my face in his hands – and says, “I kinda like you. You’re good people. I’m going to put you in my keeper file.” WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT?? I seriously hate him sometimes. He is NOT funny.

*Why the F do hard-boiled eggs smell like ASS when you peel them? I eat them in my office and I want to put up a sign that says, “I just ate a hard-boiled egg. No – I did not shit my pants. I leave that to the people with penises around here. Move along or get shanked.”

*There is a job ad in our local paper that no shit – starts like this: HOUSEWIVES: need extra income? Seriously? So if you’re not a housewife – you can’t apply? Housewives don’t need extra income – they need EXTRA appreciation and EXTRA shoes and purses and massages – not your EXTRA handouts. If you’re a man – can you apply? If you’re a wife but you work outside of the house – can you apply? I have no idea why this bothered me – but it did.

*As I ate pizza last night for the FIRST time since January 1st (real take out pizza vs a Smart One) – my brain inside was exploding and yelling: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? YOU KNOW THIS IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS. YOU’RE GOING TO GAIN BACK 10 POUNDS OVERNIGHT WITH THESE TWO PIECES. HEIFER!” I can be really mean to myself sometimes. Blame the PMS.

*As I ordered my pretty little pink canister of mace to carry when I run outside I wondered to myself if I could use it on my co-worker Martha Stewart across the hall. Then I figured she’d tell me before I sprayed her with it that she’d need to get out her perfectly crocheted hanky first. And I’d allow her that courtesy because you know – you don’t mess with Martha Stewart. She survived prison, remember?

*As I was getting yet another migraine last night my only thought was, “That’s it. I’m cutting off my head. It’s just not worth it anymore. There’s nothing of value in there anyway.”

*When Rambo hugged and kissed me at 4am this morning to say goodbye I held on to him and wouldn’t let go and I mumbled, “Please don’t go.” He chuckled and said, “ I have to.” Asshole. Screw you and your honorable sense of responsibility. Get out of my bed.

*When my girls asked me to replay a Pink song this morning my brain said, “No. You were mean to me a second ago. You suck. Everyone on this planet sucks.” In real life – I put the song on because I couldn’t tolerate the whining if I didn’t and because I love Pink with everything in me. She hates everyone too but she gets paid to feel that way. I want to be her. And have you seen her abs? I die.

*Lastly, as I drove into work today my thought was, “I wonder if I just drive into that snowbank real soft like – just enough to put a little scratch on my head in a place that wouldn’t scar – if they’d make go to the hospital and sedate me with high doses of pain meds for about 7 days?” Sounds divine doesn’t it? Stupid, but divine.

There you go. Now aren’t you happy you aren’t in my head? Like ever?

It ain’t pretty in there.  And there are no gumdrops.  I swear.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Ten Things Thursday!

1 – I still have no clue what to get Rambo for Valentine’s Day and I swear if he gets that stupid smirk on his face and conjures up that wussy sing-songy voice and says, “I got your Valentine’s present already” one more time – I’m going to shank him. Hard. In the left testicle.

2 – Speaking of Rambo – he caught an inmate giving property illegally to another inmate and because of that he told the inmate he couldn’t go outside for that day. The inmate was pissed and called Rambo a crackhead. Rambo said, “What did you just call me?” …and the inmate was dumb enough to say it again. Rambo stood up and to quote him – he said, “I had to use my big boy voice” and then an officer stepped in because they know when Rambo gets up AND uses that voice – shit is not going to end well.

Weird. Crackhead? I mean he’s been called way, way, way worse and doesn’t react. Apparently though crackhead is a no no. Men are weird ducks. Often.

3 – We decided to go car shopping this weekend because the SUV I have now needs more than just tires. Annoying. I think I’m getting a black or white Tahoe. Anyone have one? Love or hate it? They come standard with DVD systems in the back and that’s really all I care about. No one will be begging me to turn the station or turn it up every 5 seconds. Oh and remote start usually. I’m thinking I’ll love that for when it’s negative 40. You think?

4 – Last night after the argument between Rambo and Watermelon, we sat her down for a chat. I told her that she needs to find a way to put words to her emotions instead of just bursting into tears. We can’t fix what we don’t know and I told her that because Rambo doesn’t like to see her cry he just gets frustrated and then they both escalate and say things they don’t mean and everyone has a bad night.

I told her it’s fine to feel what she is feeling but she has to push through it come out stronger in the end and that her Dad and I will always be there for her. And that sometimes, the things we ask her to do will just suck and she’ll have to get through them but she should trust that we have her best interests at heart and we’d never hurt her. Rambo sat with me the whole time but I did most of the talking. Let’s face it – he’s a man – so words like that come hard for him though he’s a softie. When it was over, Watermelon was going to walk away and he said to her, “come here”….and he hugged her for quite a while. That’s how he “talks”.

5 – Did you know that you can eat 53 pretzel sticks for only 100 calories? Seriously – that’s a shitload of sticks people. Random? Yes. Just go with it. Even more random? I had tuna last night with 53 pretzel sticks. I pretended they were tiny chopsticks. I looked like a complete fool the whole time but it was sort of fun trying to pick up tuna with a tiny pretzel stick.

6 – I think we’re getting a sectional couch this weekend of some kind. Our old couch is shot-ola. Thank God for tax returns, right?

7 – Rambo weighed in today. He’s down 12 pounds. He’s bummed because at one point he was down 14 pounds. (Jesus – I should have called this Ten Things Rambo. Sickening, isn’t it?)

8 – Anyone ever heard of a weight loss program called “Naturally Slimming”? My work is offering it for free again and lots of people here lost a bunch of weight on it and even kept it off. I think it’s expensive usually. I think you watch videos online and you get workbooks and homework. People here really liked it and like I said, kept weight off. I should probably give a shot. Can’t hurt. I just don’t want to mess with the program I’m doing now.

9 – It’s Pizza Hut day at work and we’re having nachos and cheese this afternoon. Does anyone wonder why Sheniqua stays on my ass all year? Geez.

10 – I think I should be done writing. I doubt anyone is still reading.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Rising above the pain.....still.

I’ve said before that I’m not a fan of using your childhood pains as excuses to be a dickhead in real life.

I still stand by that claim, however, I can admit that moving past childhood pains – even decades later – is a damn struggle.

Not a daily struggle – thank God.
For me, the struggle is situational….meaning in certain situations I am taken back instantly to my world as a little girl and the emotions that come with that can nearly bring me to my knees.

When I watch the dynamic between Watermelon and Rambo – sometimes I feel crippled. 95% of the time they are inseparable and amazing BUT let’s be real – he is her parent and she’s almost a teenager and they are going to disagree. Some days she lives in Attitude City and we both want to shank her.

But when they disagree and I am a bystander – every part of me cringes – fearing any of the interaction will mimic the way it was for me and my Dad. 23 years into life with Rambo and I should know better. I should know with every fiber in me – that it won’t go there or be like that.

And that’s the shits about childhood memories – they never ever go away. They never stop hurting. You never stop trying to shield the people you love from ever feeling what you once did. You just learn to accept the pain but the pain stays. You rise above the pain but your heart still remembers the pain.

My life as a mother is about breaking the dangerous, unhealthy and painful cycles that no one had the balls to break before me. I feel like I’m on constant vigil – watching for moments in my girl’s lives that I can make better. Constantly trying to stop things that could potentially scar them forever.

And maybe that’s the thing. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe the childhood relationships and interactions that they experience will make them who they are – in a good way. Maybe they’ll be stronger and have to learn to rise above – like me and Rambo had to. Maybe - and probably – there’s no such thing as a perfect childhood.

Perfection is imperfection after all (thank you Lori – for teaching me that). We simply cannot fart gumdrops and poop rainbows every single day. Kids will fight with their parents. The key is how they fight and how they make up and figure things out when the fight is over, I suppose.

For me? 30 (ahem - almost 40) some years old and I’m still figuring out how to rise above the internal pain that never goes away…even if it’s not a part of my daily life. It seems like some cruel joke that I have a daughter who is me…years ago. Her reactions, her fears, her insecurities, her pains, her anxieties – they are mine. In the same sense – her joys, her loyalty, her compassion, her depth of love for people at her young age – they are mine too.
Watching her feel all of these things – nearly crushes me sometimes. No matter how many times I tell her she’ll be okay – she can’t believe that until she’s an adult and realizes I was right.

So much of me trying to prevent a rerun of my life is probably just getting in the way of Rambo and Watermelon figuring things out on their own. I mean a 95% loving relationship at this age with any child is pretty stellar so I should just get out of the way and trust them both.

They are not me and my father. They never were. They never will be.

I have got to learn to let go of the fear that they could be.

I need to learn to trust. Both of them. Completely.

Most importantly - I need to remind myself that the pain of the past did not kill me. 

I survived it all.

I rose above.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Operation Kick Sheniqua's Ass Update.

Oh Miss Sheniqa….she’s just withering away. Bless her heart.

Here is this week’s “Operation Kick Sheniqua’s Ass” update.

I lost 4 more pounds this week bringing my total since January 1st to 10.5 lbs lost.

I don’t even know what to say about that really. I’m kind of in shock. Please, please, please – don’t throw pitchforks at me but I swear to you that it hasn’t been that hard. The big difference this time is Rambo.

Take for instance Saturday – the day of the torturous audit from Hell. I got home from that and I must have said 16 times to Rambo, “My God – I’d kill someone for a pizza from our favorite pizza joint right now.”

In the past – that’s all I’d have to say and Rambo would be on the phone placing an order and in the car going to get it. No lie. I barely had to utter the words no matter how far out of Podunk the pizza place is.

Now? Rambo just kept saying, “Nope. Let’s work out. We don’t need it. We have small pizzas in the freezer.”

Jerk. Him and his self control can suck it.

But I survived without the special pizza I really didn’t need. The urge to binge that night was soooo strong and cemented my belief that I’m a stress and emotion eater. I just kept telling Rambo, “I want to eat and eat and never stop.”

In the past, I would have. With wild abandon and a Mountain Dew to wash it down with followed up by ice cream.

That night however – I stayed within my calories and my ass got on the treadmill.


I have officially put in 28 workouts this year for a total of 65.212 miles towards my goal of 400 this year. 334.788 miles to go!

Rambo says once we’re both buff, we should go on a cruise or to Hawaii. I hate traveling so I keep trying to convince him that I’ll wear a bikini on the back of the Harley and it’ll be just about the same…and cheaper.

I don’t know. Between you and me – this whole thing is weird. For years, I’ve wanted Rambo to get healthier and he’d do it for a few days but that was it. Today he’s a man who lifts weights and does cardio nearly every day. He pre-makes his meals with me for the prison days. He pre-makes his own low-fat sandwiches for semi days.

Just last night he came upstairs and said, “Check this out babe. This shirt is loose on me.”

He’s down 12.5 lbs as of today but he won’t officially weigh in until Thursday. Sometimes I get so proud of him it makes me teary-eyed. I’ve wanted this for so long…knowing the healthier he is hopefully the longer the girls and I have him.

Enough of the sappy stuff, huh?

I’m proud of me too. I have not missed a single day of recording my food or pre-prepping. I have logged every workout and haven’t gone more than 2 days without a workout. I care more. I wear nicer clothes instead of putting on the only thing that fits. I work on my hair longer. Care more about my makeup.

I value myself more…like I always should have. I have more energy. The only thing that hasn’t stopped is the migraines. And that’s been discouraging but I won’t give up.

Have I mentioned that “dessert time” with Rambo is way fun when you’re skinnier too?
Sorry. I can’t help it.

Rambo and I used to say we didn’t have time to work out or plan meals or the time to try hard enough to get healthy.

We were lying to ourselves. No one gave us more time in a day – and we’re still doing it.

And even though my kids are 7 and 12 – last night when I got home – I walked into the workout room to see Rambo lifting with the neighbor and there was the 12 year old doing the elliptical and the 7 year old on the treadmill screaming, “Mom – I’m walking at 2.8 on here!!!” One on each machine – switching every couple minutes because it was FUN and they got to be by Dad.

Some days are easier than others. Sometimes it’s not easy at all - but we’re doing it anyway.

Until next weigh-in….may your days be healthy and happy!

Monday, February 4, 2013

When there's nothing to say...use pictures.

My brain is shot because I was actually required to work this weekend doing an internal audit. 

I spent 8 hours in a room with two complete strangers who grilled me about my every effing move over the last year.  Two days later - I still have hives.

No one with social anxiety the level that I have should ever have to endure such a thing. 

I thought I might die. 

This also meant I was one nap shy of the usual two I get every weekend. 

Oh the humanity, right? 

It also means I have nothing to write about that is noteworthy (which is so different than any other day, I know) I've got pictures. 

And you guys thought I was kidding about that Care Bear Land shit.

Yes.  I act like a 12 year old little girl and wear jewelry like one too!

Honestly.  If I have to work what seems like every waking hour of every day (slight exaggeration) then at least I'm going to use cute-ass pens and paper. 

I bow down to anyone who works full shifts on weekends. 

If you ask me - it should be outlawed.

It feels like torture.  Like lunch with Casey Anthony.  That lasts 8 hours.

And now look.  I'm blog posting about FOOD with even a little bit of a recipe. 

I swore I'd never do such a thing but remember - I have no brain today. 

I get a free pass.  

You are all required to pretend you love this whole post.  I hope you know that. 

How do you like my fine china up there?  We only use the best paper plates around here.

And OMG - I'm going to post more food pictures.

I hate myself.

I have exquisite taste buds.  Rice, chicken, broccoli, gravy.  Every day since January 1st.

I like to step outside my comfort zone a lot, wouldn't you say?

Lastly - I leave you with the shitpile that was my closet. 

Remember when I told you that I cleaned it? 

I wasn't kidding and here's the proof.

I forgot what color the carpet was in there because I hadn't seen it in so long. 

How refreshing to not crawl over a mountain of shoes each morning. 

And thanks to Watermelon's prodding - I got rid of an entire garbage bag of what she labeled *Granny shoes* she's some kind of fashion guru or something.

Okay, that's all I can muster up.

I'm too pissed at the world to fart gumdrops or poop rainbows right now.

I do however, believe tomorrow the sun will shine. 

Tomorrow is my weigh in day and I am still kicking ass. 

It could be that being locked in a room with two strangers and feeling like I was on trial made me not want to eat or drink or even freaking blink but who cares, right?

Stay tuned.

And remember to pretend you liked this and tell me your life is changed completely due to this post.

Thank you and you're welcome.

I do my best.