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Archive for the ‘Another reason I’m AWESOME!’ Category

Anytime, and I mean A-N-Y-T-I-M-E, my husband is out of the house or out of town for any reason I am always thinking what I’m going to eat. 

Why I feel like I have to wait until he’s gone to eat anything, good or bad, is beyond me.  He’s never judged me for what I’ve eaten or stopped me from eating anything. I guess I feel that if no one is around to see me eat it, maybe it didn’t happen.  Kind of the whole tree falling in a forest situation.

Every time I get to eat whatever I want I always think of one thing.

It’s so trashy of me.

I can’t believe I’m admitting this.

Why do I crave Spaghettios out of anything and everything I could eat?  Why? Why? WHY? And it has to have the meatballs.  Which is even sicker!  But I love them. Maybe it’s a call back to my childhood when this is all my mom gave us to eat.  She would throw a can at us and give us a can opener and a spoon.  And we would just eat it out of the can.  (Ok, that didn’t really happen. She was a MUCH better mom than that.  She at least opened the can for us.)

They’re delicious to me.  So trashfully delicious.  And, according to the can, they’re a good source of protein.  So there. 

Am I the only one that craves trashy food? I can’t be alone.  I’m not, am I?

And I don’t think I’m pregnant…

These two do judge me and I take it personal until they start eating things out of the garbage.   

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My husband was lucky enough to receive a coloring book and some crayons from the Easter Bunny.  (He still believes in it–shhh–don’t say anything)

Somehow, coloring turned into a competition in our household.  That probably doesn’t surprise anyone.

There is his attempt. Pretty good.  He stayed in the lines.  And in his words he made the plants into coral. 

In my opinion he probably could have done a little more detail work with the water and maybe a little shade work on the shark. I give him a B-.

Here’s my attempt.  Now, I’m not playing favorites (yes I am) but mine is AWESOME!  Look at the outlining and the added sun and clouds.  It adds depth to the picture. 

My husband accused me of “jazzing up the picture” by adding the clouds and sun.  And that this was just a coloring book and not a “coloring and drawing book.”

I think he’s just jealous.

I get an A+ of course.

Am I hallucinating or is mine better? You can be honest.  Or would you consider it cheating me drawing in the sun and clouds?

I will admit, I did kind of forget to get my children anything for Easter.  Luckily they were none the wiser…

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If you are here for the Apple/Itunes giftcard it is found here. Although you can read this post too!

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Here’s the deal, my body is extremely interesting–in a weird sort of way.  Mainly my appendages.  I’ve talked about my nubby toes and small feet here. My father gave me the stubs gene so I look like I’m walking on hooves.

I want to delve a little deeper into the appendage known as the toe. 

Let’s take a look, shall we?

Ok, ignore the waffle pattern on my foot.  Clearly I had just taken off a sock and this was THE ONLY time I could take a picture of my foot.  Maybe not…anyway, back to my point.

That’s my foot from a distance.  Pretty stumpy and my toes are barely there.  I’m not sure I even have joints in my toes. 

Let’s take a closer look…

First things first-look at my second and third toes.  Do you notice something? They’re slightly WEBBED.  I’m part duck people!  I actually have a friend with the same two toes webbed pretty much the whole way up.  And we were actually born in the same town only four days apart. There must be something in the water!

Ok, secondly (am I boring you yet? If so, you can stop reading) my third and fourth toes.  Look at the tips of them.  The tips are crooked!  Here’s some arrows to help you out:

The nail sits properly on the toe, but the tip of the toe is CROOKED. I don’t understand what my mother must have been doing when she was pregnant with me! Probably nothing, I’m just part mutant. 

And don’t even get me started on how many lines I have on my toes/foot.  You should see my palms!  A palm reader would never be able to tell me my future.

Well, now that I’ve made you and me sick by all of these foot pictures, let’s take a look at something a little cuter.

I think Lexi looks like a black panther in this picture.  She’ll snap your leg in half just like that stick. Watch out!

Ten million dollars says I was holding a tennis ball.

I hope the dog pictures cleansed your eyes of monstrosities that are my toes.

Over and out…

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Last night I had the distinct pleasure of attending the prestigious WWE Monday Night Raw.  Now, I’ll make fun of this show/event until the day that I die but they put on one heck of a show.  And people, I know it’s fake but it’s tan, muscled men without shirts on.  So try to stop me from going. 

We left these cuties at home to fend for themselves.

The arena was filled with the scent of stale cigarettes and beer breath.  We were sandwiched between a Shawn Michaels wannabe and a family that had to get up and go to the bathroom every five seconds. 

I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves…along with some words of course.

Looks like the night is off to a rousing beginning .  What is my deal?  It looks like my husband drugged me to come to the event.  And if you enlarge this picture I think there’s a bat in the cave in the left nostril.

Ok, this would have been fabulous but since I have no sense of light there’s a lovely shadow of my arm/camera taking up most of the picture. 

Drama, drama, drama…always drama.

That’s my husband’s hero, Randy Orton.  He has the body that my husband wants to obtain someday.  I will not argue that one bit.

John Cena ladies and gentleman.  One of the only reasons I care one lick about wrestling. 

Ok, this guy.  I could not get a good picture of his costume. Or is it a uniform? Outfit?  Anyway, the guy on the ground–bright purple/pink, tight spandex, one long leg and one no leg pants.  So hot.  Right? Wrong.

Cheech and Chong were the guest hosts for the evening.  Totally appropriate given that fifty percent of the audience were children.  Only 99% of their jokes were drug references though, so it was ok.

The man on the left–that folks, that is what billions of dollars looks like. 

Ok, here’s where the excitement comes in…

Look at that picture.  Notice anyone?  Maybe to the right of that sign?

Let’s look a little closer…

That’s right! I was on NATIONAL TELEVISION!  Looking bored as all get-out!  And my poor husband.  I shall call him Sign Head. 

But wait…

I spy–ME on the jumbo tron.  So I feign excitement.

And I’m smiling.  Because I know, I’m awesome.

I did notice three things while watching myself for those few fateful seconds on television. 

  1. I need bangs again. 
  2. I need a tan. At least a good bronzer.
  3. The smacking of the gum needs to stop–IMMEDIATELY!  I was chomping on that gum like my life depended on it.

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I know I’ve mentioned more than once about how I don’t want a baby.  Here’s the deal though, kids love me.  I’m like the flame to their moth, peanut butter to their jelly, the pied piper to their rats.  I have no reason or explanation for this. I’m super boring and have nothing at all to bring to the table.

I have a theory though.  You know the whole situation that cats are attracted to the one person who is ignoring them?  I think the same applies to kids.  They sense the energy around you–feel a calmness and proceed to destroy that calmness with screaming and jumping around and throwing things. 

On Saturday night Eric and Lauren were babysitting their niece and nephew.  They are adorable and sweet and sticky and well, they’re children.  We came over to have dinner with them and to hang out.  They wanted to eat dinner by me, play with me, and (I don’t want to brag) by the end of the night the niece wanted me to tuck her into bed. 

Unfortunately, I don’t know what’s involved in tucking a child into bed so her Auntie Lauren had to perform that duty. 

Although some kids have a harder time appreciating me.  On Friday I had a couple of girls about the age of ten in my office and they were giggling and whispering and looking–in my direction.  How dare a ten-year old child give me a complex?  I might have overreacted on Twitter:

Ok, I don’t hate them.  I just get paranoid when anyone, kids or adults, is whispering and looking over in my general direction.  I’m self-conscious enough without the giggling and whispering.  After a few minutes of talking about Wii though and they loved me. 

On a more depressing note, they were eating blue snow cones and I said they looked like Smurfs and they had no idea what I was talking about.  Shameful I tell you, SHAMEFUL! 

Do you know what’s not shameful? This girl…

In fact, some might say she’s shameless…

Although the condition of the bed is a little shameful.

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The Lord blessed me with another moment in my life that I would love to just forget.

So that is why I’m sharing it with the world. 

I must be insane.

Tuesday afternoon at work I had to head on down to the little girl’s room.  After that I was walking down the hall to return to my office.  At this point I will tell you two things: a.) I work at a university so I’m walking down a hall with classrooms and b.) I was wearing a skirt and tights.

Do I even need to go any further with this story?

You’ve probably guessed it but if you haven’t here it is: my skirt was tucked into my tights.  I always, I mean ALWAYS, check my backside after a trip to the bathroom.  Somehow this little smidgen of my skirt decided to stay tucked in exposing my upper thigh to anyone walking behind me.  As luck would have it only one person was behind me…as MY luck would have it is was a student that works for us in the office.  And this student happens to be a shy guy.  I feel really bad if my tighted, upper thigh is his first glimpse into the female form.  *Shudder*

I mean, how do you recover from something so horrific like that?

I just pulled the skirt out and kept on walking.  And I’ve avoided eye contact with that particular student worker ever since.

Thankfully for all of us there are no pictures of this particular event. 

Anyone have an skirt tucking story that tops this one?  Let me hear it to make my mind feel at ease!

Ok, moving on to two ladies who don’t mind exposing their hindside’s to anyone and everyone!

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Ok, not really. 

I just wanted you all to think I had some sort of resolve to get involved in political debates. 

I don’t.

Instead I want to talk about my stomach.  My stomach has let me down so much in the past year it’s ridiculous. Back in high school I was called “Old Ironsides” and “The Trashcan” (these nicknames I gave to myself and I was the only one who referred to myself with these names) because I could virtually eat anything in any amount and it would not affect me.

Case in point: Sometime in my early years of high school I had an eating contest with a guy friend of mine.  We each ordered a large pizza and whoever finished first won.  He won, but I still ate the whole pizza.  I was hungry an hour later.  I found out a few years later that he threw up all night. 

Fast forward to New Year’s Eve.  I ate maybe 3 or 4 pieces of pizza, a couple of breadsticks and a few cream puffs (which I might at that my husband was FLABBERGASTED that I had eaten more than one–he must forgotten who he was married to for a second).  About four a.m. I get up with stomach pains.  I knew it wasn’t going to end well and I was right. 

Old Ironsides has gone down.

It was a good run those few years I could eat whatever I want.  I guess now I’ll have to be a grown-up and eat grown-up food in grown-up portions. 

Speaking of portion control-one of my pups is on a diet and one is not.  Can you guess which one?

I’ll give you a hint: It’s the fat, black one who has udders.  And who also eats her bowl of food AND her sister’s bowl if we’re not watching.  We love her at any size but we’re doing it for her own good! 

This is going to be a fun year!

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