tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2753784085124788072024-03-12T18:50:01.834-05:00Reasonably ChubbyThe life and times of one southern, middle aged girl. I'm talkin' about life and love and everything in between.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.comBlogger132125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-6256706080143278562012-01-10T17:43:00.000-06:002012-01-10T17:43:03.893-06:00I did a Marathon! Whoo-Hoo, and Bring on the French Fries!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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6 hours and 45 minutes later, I'd crawled my way to the finish line.<br />
<br />
How IN. THE. WORLD. DID. SHE. DO. IT? you ask?<br />
French Fries. and lots and lots of motivational speeches that I randomly gave myself throughout the race.<br />
<br />
But mostly it was the promise of french fries. And a million dollars. (One little lie I told myself during the last leg of the race-try it! It really works!)<br />
<br />
And the promise of a beautiful, golden Mickey Medal . I knew I couldn't go home without one. So, basically it was either get that damn Mickey Medal or be forced to be homeless and live a life of utter and complete shame all the rest of my days. <br />
<br />
Yep, that's the one that got me. <br />
Did I mention french fries?<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-39151591913503109882012-01-05T13:17:00.000-06:002012-01-05T13:17:59.041-06:00Bring on the Magic! It's Marathon Time!<br />
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<br />
It's the New Year and I ate a goat-cheese sandwich.<br />
<br />
Yes, folks, its come to this. I'm lookin' for some magic! <br />
How else do you expect me to even<span style="color: red;"><strong><em> attempt </em></strong></span><span style="color: black;">to finish the upcoming Disney Marathon that I've signed up for, and in fact will be here in....*gasp*!...2 more days!</span><br />
<br />
Paper bag, please, quickly, my lungs are about to collapse.<br />
<br />
People, do you realize its 26.2 miles looooonnnngggg??? How could you let me? Why didn't you immediately order the straight jacket and the dudes with the big long needles? <br />
<br />
I know what I said... 'I'm training, I believe in myself''<span style="color: blue;"> PHooey</span>. <span style="color: blue;">Balooey, mo-mo Kapooey</span>! What a bunch of high pitched nasal drivel! <br />
Breathe....Breathe....Breathe....Yes, I'm in labor....I'M TRYING TO GET THE FEAR OUT OF ME!<br />
<br />
Fine. Whatever. I've heard <em><span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>pistachios</strong></span></em> are miracle workers...and lemon juice cures large warts...and eating bark off trees will give you more stamina than you ever thought possible. All I know for sure:<strong><span style="color: red;"> Candy is the most important ingredient of LIFE. Without it, you can't do anything. Thank goodness I have some Hot Tamales hidden in my dresser drawer. Sheesh!</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Next time you see me, I'll be:</strong><br />
<strong>1. Dead OR</strong><br />
<strong>2. Lazily relaxing in the hotel hot-tub after being picked up and forced out of the race by the 'follow the rules' Disney enforcers because I was going wayyyyy tooooo slllloooooowwwww. OR</strong><br />
<strong>3. Grinning like a Chesire Cat, trying to sell my newly won Mickey Medal on ebay because I heard its real gold. Or maybe I just dreamed that.</strong><br />
<strong>4. Eating a HUGE lollipop from the store near Cinderella's Castle and waving wildly as Barry runs by because I came to my senses in the nick of time...</strong><br />
<br />
<strong>I'll keep you posted friends.</strong><br />
<strong>If you call being a friend, "Let's watch the little idiot try this"...</strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">"A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep, a dream is so stupid sometimes, that you realize you really just needed to...*beep*...</span></strong><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-77122155291607700532011-12-20T23:39:00.001-06:002011-12-21T08:42:37.798-06:00Its almost Christmas and my back is killin' me!I love Christmas! I love getting together with loved ones near and far, singing all the ol' carols around great grandmas's piano, and the quiet stillnes of the starfilled night as I nuzzle with my husband waiting for Jolly Old St. Nicholas...<br />
<br />
<strong>Stop it!</strong> (Excuse me while I slap myself across the face.)<br />
<br />
Forgive me friends, for I have lied. Yes, to you, my only friends in all the world. Okay, that was another lie, I do have some friends here locally, well two, and a few scattered across the country...Anywhoo....<br />
<br />
The truth is I have been a SCROOGE this year!!! bah humbug. And there is no piano. Not to mention I haven't seen the old fat guy in the red suit for a long, looooonnnnng time.<br />
(Hold on, I wanna see what I look like in the extreme mega-magnified make-up mirror right now. Heaven hep' me! Them frown lines is deep.)<br />
<br />
I blame Walmart! Let's raise our fists in agreement! I mean, who isn't grumpy after seeing the humanity that IS Wally World out in mass force this time of year. The too-tight sausage leggin's, tobacco chewin', Miss Clairol #9 fight over the vacuum cleaner sale was too much for me. <br />
<br />
Not really. I enjoyed it. <br />
Let's face it. I don't know why I'm like this...<br />
<br />
Oh, let's face it again. <em><strong>Yes I do. </strong></em><br />
<br />
My CHILRENS are all grown up and aren't coming home for Christmas this year! Except for one. The good, perfect, <em>angelic child</em> who will get ALL of the presents. kiss, kiss, hug, hug....<br />
<br />
*sigh* <br />
I feel better now. A good roll-around-on-the-floor emotional breakdown always seems to put things in perspective. <br />
<br />
I shall now sip the spiked eggnog two weeks early and prepare myself for the New Year!<br />
<br />
Well, friends, until we meet again I bid you 'adieu in my very best high pitched vibrato-<br />
<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: #38761d;"> "<span style="font-size: x-large;">H</span><span style="font-size: large;">av</span>e <span style="color: #cc0000;">Yo<span style="font-size: large;">urs</span>e<span style="font-size: x-large;">lf</span> </span>A<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="color: #cc0000;">M<span style="font-size: x-small;">er</span>r<span style="font-size: x-small;">y</span></span></span> Li<span style="font-size: large;">ttl</span>e <span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Chri</span><span style="font-size: large;">s</span><span style="font-size: small;">tm</span><span style="font-size: large;">as</span></span>" </span></em></strong><br />
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Yes, dahlings, I dress like this all the time now....I find it helps when I sing...<br />
<a href="http://charmingteacup.com/">CharmingTeacup.com </a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-81103322525395711832011-09-02T11:18:00.000-05:002011-09-02T11:18:33.031-05:00What NOT to do on Labor Day WeekendBut first, before I begin this litany of "DO NOTS", here's the update on my visit to Colorado Springs, CO.<br />
<br />
Upon arrival, my middle daughter, the one who's just left for TWO YEARS and is now living in SCOTLAND<em><span style="color: red;">...(hold on, I've got to go lay down for awhile, freak out and hum koom-by-yah--I'll be back in two years)</span></em><br />
<br />
Anyway, she picked me up at the airport and then we went straight to our favorite French restaurant in all the world, 'Marigolds'. Angels sang the moment I entered it's bakery doors, and that's when I knew this was going to be a great trip! Granted it's the only French restaurant I've been to, but that's not the point. The point, my friends, is that we began our <span style="color: blue;">W</span><strong><span style="color: blue;">orld Food Tour,</span><span style="color: blue;"> and it was mucho delicioso, or as we say in pig latin, osay oodgay.</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: blue;">The other point is that I definitely have 'obese potential' and will have to fight diligently all the days of my life to not end up on The Biggest Loser, wearing nothing but spandex and a sports bra. </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: blue;">(I'm laying down again...be back in a few)</span></strong><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"> The goal of the trip was to show, teach, convince, cajole, and FORCE daughter number 1 to have a cute apartment. It's that simple, it's being said through gritted teeth and that's why she's sooooo glad I'm her mother. (If somebody named Claire comments on this post, don't believe a word of it)</span><br />
<br />
So that's what we did. We ate...Marigolds, Old Chicago, La Casita...dangit, we forgot about Montagues!...<br />
we shopped, we cooked, (yes, we also cooked. There were certain homemade meals that had to be part of our world food tour...I know.) we watched 12 chick flicks and we decorated. We painted, we went for walks, and then we decorated some more. It was in fact, the perfect vacation. We talked until our throats were hoarse, laughed our heads off, and met Claire's new guy, watched new guy break up, saw new guy come back.<br />
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I By the way, the garage sales were FABULOUS. I would give you the run down of everything we got and how much we paid, but <em><strong>trust me</strong></em>. It'll just send you into a depression and then <em><strong>you'll </strong></em>have to go lay down for awhile...<br />
<br />
But here's something that might cheer you up:<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Labor Day Dont's:</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">1. DON'T rain 20 inches over the weekend. In other words, DO NOT invite a tropical storm to your Labor Day festivities. I cannot emphasize this enough.</span></strong><br />
<strong>That's it in a nutshell. And that's exactly what is happening before my very eyes as I type. It's pouring down rain, it's supposed to keep on pouring down rain, and then by Tuesday morning, on the way back to work the sun is supposed to appear. </strong><br />
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Have a great weekend!! I know I will?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-47414225601938437762011-08-22T15:56:00.000-05:002011-08-22T15:56:01.462-05:00Here kitty, kitty...<br />
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*Disclaimer:This picture was taken in our happy days, before my visit...</div>
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and I might add, before I lost 20 pounds. Whatever.</div>
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I'm flying to Colorado Springs, CO to visit my oldest daughter this week. Not only am I thrilled to leave the hot, oppressive heat of the humid South and fly to the cool, clear air of the Rocky Mountains, I've promised to come by airplane instead of by broom...this time. (Muwahahahaha!! Psycho laughter fills the dark sky)<br />
<br />
This promise of cool mountain air has so enthralled me that I'd almost forgotten my mission. I <em>almost</em> got swept up in the 'lets-go-to-Breckenridge-and-frolic-with-the-deer' hallmark card moment until I remembered. <em>The fitted</em> <em>white gloves.</em> I'd purchased them for a visit such as this, and they appeared mysteriously while digging for change in my couch cushions. <br />
<br />
<em>"There you are my pretties".</em> I snuggly snapped them onto to each hand and knew it was time. You see, she's moved into her first apartment. And she needs my help. Her desperate cry has reached my ears and that's why I'm going. In other words, I've seen the pictures. <br />
<br />
Through a haze of cat hair, I've faintly been able to make out a couch, a coffee table, a, a, a,a,a,a,a,a,a....that's right folks. There is nothing else to see. She is living in a shell of a place that actually could be called...gasp! <strong>Blank!</strong> <strong><span style="color: black;">Not-Decorated!</span></strong> <strong>UGLY!!!! </strong><br />
<br />
My mission is obviously two-fold. <br />
1. Clean <em>and</em> sanitize<br />
2. Make it pretty.<br />
Commercial-strength Lysol in hand, I yodel a good, solid, <strong><em>Goodwill Here I Come!,</em></strong> which is my designated warrioress battle cry and then I bow my head in prayer.<br />
<br />
"Dear Lord, thankyou for giving me purpose", while simultaneously putting the ad on craiglist:<br />
<br />
"Free!! TWO pretty little kitty-cats in need of a good home, nasty litter box included..."<br />
<br />
<span style="color: blue;"><em><strong>Or not.</strong></em> </span><br />
<span style="color: black;">That part was just a dream.</span><br />
<br />
I'll show you the pictures upon my return. Until then friends, think of me frolicking with the deer, won't you??<br />
<br />
<em><strong>P.S. I'll let you know how offended she was by this post when I return.</strong></em><br />
<em><strong>MUWAHAHAHA!!!!!</strong></em><br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-41240374773588804572011-08-18T11:28:00.000-05:002011-08-18T11:28:04.568-05:005 Months Later, and 200 pounds lighter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I've lost 200 pounds, and counting...</div>
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Yep, that means I officially weigh NOTHING. I'm light as air.</div>
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"Impossible", you gasp!?? Well, believe me it hasn't been easy. Imagine what shopping is like these days.</div>
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The last time we spoke I was high on caffeine, and had started RUNNING. Which is completely ridiculous considering the physique I'm dealing with-Large bazoombas and a pelvis that could easily produce millions of kids. I definitely could've given '19 and Counting' a run for their money. <em><strong>Of all the get-rich-quick-schemes I've embraced, I don't know why I didn't think of that one!</strong></em> <br />
<br />
And yet, still I run. Every morning me and my bestest buddy meet at the crack o'dawn and pound the pavement because it's the only thing that works. For eating donuts I mean. And spaghetti, and pizza, and candy, and whatever else is delicious in this world. So anyway, here's how I lost it: <br />
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The Rock-n-Roll Half-Marathon in Nashville, TN in April! 13 miles later, we clawed our way across the finish line, and officially celebrated our 20 pound weight loss! <strong><span style="font-size: large;">PLUS</span></strong> an extra 10 for mental exhaustion and pure craziness thinking we could even run marathons in our mid-forties! But we did!</div>
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Sold the house. In 3 days! That was worth another 25 pounds of complete joy being released at one time, since I no longer had to blow my whistle, yelling every five minutes to keep this</div>
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%$#@! house clean.</div>
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Wonderful Daughter #2 graduated from college! 35 pounds of ' I'm so proud of this child' evaporated through my pores and left me in a sweaty mess the rest of the day.</div>
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New home renovation...caused a small 25 pound relapse, but I knew it would be worth it. Plus, I enjoyed eating all the cookies I wanted immensely. </div>
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Claire came to visit for THE VERY FIRST TIME since we moved here! This miraculously removed a whopping 40 pounds that had piled up around my heart, threatening to smother me at times. It's true--losing weight does help you breathe better.</div>
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Decorating, and shopping for, and actually moving in to our new home.</div>
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50 pounds baby!! This made me downright skinny with love it was so much fun.</div>
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Finding my living room couch at Goodwill for under $100 dollars??...I evaporated into thin air and disappeared for awhile, until I remembered to eat the candy I'd hidden in my car's side door, which instantly caused me to gain 20 pounds...thank goodness! </div>
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So, 200 pounds lighter I'm happy to share my secret weightloss secrets with you, my secret friends....Promise you'll keep it a secret?</div>
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Because I'm thinking this is my newest get-rich-quick-scam and I really, really don't want to blow it this time!</div>
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Light as a feather and soon to be very very wealthy...</div>
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Come join us, won't you?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-32188000218272728162011-03-08T08:26:00.000-06:002011-03-08T08:26:17.902-06:00My Name Is Gump...I run now. All the time. Against my own will, I put on my tennis shoes and take off like the wind. Okay, not <em>the wind</em>. I take off, like a cheetah. Okay, not<em> a cheetah exactly</em>. A turtle? Yes, A TURTLE. Or maybe a bear. A large lumbering bear, who's emerged from hibernation.<br />
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Have you ever noticed how fluffy Bears are? <br />
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<strong><em>Run Chubby Run!</em></strong><br />
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I run against the odds. Against the cruel fate of my obese potential. Against my physique which was not made for running. It was made for bearing children. If only I would've realized at the time that was my niche.<br />
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And yet I run...<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/L-7Vu7cqB20?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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See that guy? That's not me. He looks way too joy-filled. <br />
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I, on the other hand, have a look of severe pain while I run. I think it's much more appropriate, plus it garners sympathy from the average passer-by. Just for affect, I may add tears streaming down my face the next time I run. I'll let you know how that goes.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-29002499068717515682011-01-28T21:39:00.000-06:002011-01-28T21:39:30.920-06:00If A Woman Licks a Spoonful of Chocolate...If a woman, whose name I will not reveal, licks a spoonful of chocolate and NOBODY sees it, do those calories count? <br />
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I didn't think so. (For those of you who answered yes... You're obviously much too hard on yourself, and need to schedule a mani/pedi/massage/mediterrean cruise as soon as you finish reading this. What do you mean, 'but I'm skinny?' That's not the point.)<br />
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*sigh* <br />
Skinny People...they can be relentless sometimes, can't they? If they only knew how unpopular their <strong><em>I'm so</em></strong> <strong><em>dedicated</em></strong> attitude is making them. It's getting them nowhere. Except tight spots. Big deal if they can squeeze into the ridiculously narrow opening between the refrigerator and the pantry door where most people keep the broom.<br />
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Chubby people are popular<strong><em>. Because Chubby People are Happy People! They allow themselves a little sugar-laden chocolate every now and then.</em></strong> That's my own unbiased, humble, fat-faced opinion.<br />
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Sorry I stuck my tongue out at you.<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;">Note to self: Skinny people are so sensitive these days...</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-849447291483716782011-01-26T08:22:00.000-06:002011-01-26T08:22:22.522-06:00Good News and Bad NewsFirst of all, here's the <strong><span style="color: blue;">GOOD</span></strong> news:<br />
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I fit into my 'skinny' jeans! (Happy dance, clapping hands, and gleeful shouts of joy are being engaged in at this moment) Yep, I just put them on, and they zipped right up with no problem. Looks like all that diet/exercise mumbo jumbo is finally paying off!<br />
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Now, for the <strong><span style="color: red;">BAD</span></strong> news:<br />
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My 'skinny' jeans aren't really all that skinny. As a matter of fact, they're the <strong><em>exact same size</em></strong> as my regular jeans. Just a tighter version. Which means I have very low standards for what constitutes a rowdy celebration.<br />
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Hey, at my age, I'm gonna take what I can get. After all, I'm working with NO METABOLISM and a STRONG CANDY ADDICTION. Not to mention an aversion to SPANX.<br />
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Spanx alone would make me look 10 pounds thinner. But I'm not going there...I'm doing it the old fashioned way. Lots of caffeine, starvation and excessive exercise. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What do you mean, why is my hand shaking?</span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-90278851600822783262011-01-25T09:52:00.000-06:002011-01-25T09:52:26.090-06:00Sorry It's Been So Long<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
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It's been way too long since we've talked. I've missed you, desperately. </div>
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But I've been busy. Sooooo busy.</div>
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<ol>
<li>Busy loading and unloading the dishwasher. </li>
<li>Busy straightening my hair.</li>
<li>Busy watching football games I don't really care about.</li>
<li>Busy working on the 'family' budget for 5 hours last Saturday. I know. </li>
<li>Busy exercising every morning at 6am. I KNOW!</li>
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And now, I'm training to run in my very first marathon. Which requires incredibly loooonnnnnggg run/walking distances on a regular basis.<br />
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Why? </div>
Because. I'm. <strong><strike>Stupid. </strike> Dedicated. Driven. And Oh So Sexy. </strong><br />
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I blame her. That woman up there...my Mother. Look at her. You can tell with your own two eyes.</div>
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<strong>SHE'S CRAZY. And she passed it on.</strong></div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-44890190576024362732011-01-12T10:03:00.000-06:002011-01-12T10:03:19.812-06:00I've Missed My Calling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've JUST discovered another talent. A talent I didn't even know I had, but now that I do know, I plan on doing something with it. Sorta' like the man with the 'Golden Voice'. You've heard of him, right? I hope to be discovered SOON. Because the world needs what I have to offer...<br />
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Brooke ran the Disney Marathon this past weekend. God love her. And I was there, to support her, to cheer her on, to SMILE!!!!</div>
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This smile has 'pageant mother' written all over it. I can't believe all the years I wasted sitting stone faced at tennis tournaments. Hidden talents are special, aren't they? </div>
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Looky here. Could I stretch my face any wider? I think not. </div>
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Got a special event coming up? Maybe your 60 year old daughter is finally getting married, or you have a favorite son participating in the International Square Dancing championships. Whatever it is, my talent is yours.</div>
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If you need a professional GRINNER, you know who to call.</div>
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<em><strong><span style="color: red;">I WILL BREAK MY FACE FOR YOU!!</span></strong></em></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-1036937219850300492010-12-28T18:30:00.000-06:002010-12-28T18:30:13.784-06:00I've been everywhere man....'This land is your land, this land is my land'...<br />
<br />
The Great American road trip of 2010 is a success!!<br />
2000 miles later...<br />
I told Mr. Wonderful, 'good thing we like each other, huh?' He nodded in agreement while stuffing pankcakes down his throat faster than you can say 'uh, honey, you're going to choke'. That was in Coleman, Texas, in a stinky little diner where all the people we saw had on camouflage. All The People. The women, the children, the babies, EVERYONE. I think Mr. Wonderful was eating fast 'cause him was scared!<br />
<br />
I told him not to worry, that Texans are known for their friendly waves, and drawn out 'hhhhiiiiii'sssss'. Maybe he was just hungry. We had to wait 45 minutes to be served since they made sure every.single.local.bubba in the joint was served first. And then, we reeked of cigarette smoke for the next 6 hours.<br />
Yes, this is what I call FUN!<br />
<br />
Okay, so here's the low-down:<br />
1.Atlanta, Georgia<br />
2.Pearl, Mississippi<br />
3.Rockwall, Texas<br />
4.Lubbock, Texas<br />
5 San Antonio, Texas<br />
6.Beaumont, Texas<br />
7.Little ol' Fairhope, Aly-bamie<br />
<br />
Whew! <br />
We've laughed, we've ate, we've laughed, we've ate, ect., ect., ect...<br />
Oh, yeah, and I've bonded with every elliptical at every motel we've stayed at. I hate being disciplined. It goes against my nature.But all I have to do is glance at my pretty fingernails and remember that I LOST. That's when my eyes narrow into slits and I ask Mr. Wonderful if he can drive while I run alongside the car.<br />
<br />
New Years resolutions are for sissies!! Bring it during the holidays baby! <br />
(Now for my ear-piercing warrioress cry, and then jammies and bed!)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-26387889513323036182010-12-23T23:58:00.000-06:002010-12-23T23:58:06.617-06:00Trust Me, She Deserves A Post...See the woman below? Rudolph's twin sister?<br />
The one known as Aunt Kay. (Or she'll step on your foot and crush your toes and snatch your twenty dollar gift card back until you do call her Aunt Kay...and say it with a smile, you little brat) <br />
<br />
Yeah, HER. Well, I want to tell you something. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsX2g01F5PE2F2nKbBJ4DqKBHuInNjRiHMuayKSkLNPmBem_6RFspqeMnur0Dg6vZkjfSmvvPw5836Cqo0Yro-wJsVDvKpOM-ZRUEL1gjvW0VhASBmNlAmec24IzNEO5jxO3LkwSPtyEcZ/s1600/christmas+2010+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">R<img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsX2g01F5PE2F2nKbBJ4DqKBHuInNjRiHMuayKSkLNPmBem_6RFspqeMnur0Dg6vZkjfSmvvPw5836Cqo0Yro-wJsVDvKpOM-ZRUEL1gjvW0VhASBmNlAmec24IzNEO5jxO3LkwSPtyEcZ/s400/christmas+2010+009.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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She was part of the package. The package that came with Mr. Wonderful I mean. She's his little sister, and I couldn't be luckier! First of all, I'm sure you can tell from her reindeer horns ALONE that she's fun! Throw in the shiny red nose, and what can I say? You gotta love this woman! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizh7yfqD2ge__GzlFY7XkvRX7NADV1Pv9Z6uabFJVlO3cWnbdY24llLwMHV6JRLjOm0z-3n2VTJqyYGsjGHd0ZZhAJHpSjvkhTYTZK_Qu9wHZ_Hc-Xweax07dKkeZljRi01raIdeybi2Y8/s1600/christmas+2010+034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizh7yfqD2ge__GzlFY7XkvRX7NADV1Pv9Z6uabFJVlO3cWnbdY24llLwMHV6JRLjOm0z-3n2VTJqyYGsjGHd0ZZhAJHpSjvkhTYTZK_Qu9wHZ_Hc-Xweax07dKkeZljRi01raIdeybi2Y8/s400/christmas+2010+034.JPG" width="400" /></a>And she's sweet. She loves her daddy and her mama, her children, her friends and her husband with everything she's got. She gives it her all...and it shows. She loves dogs, and cries easily and laughs loud. She loves Jesus, and sings like an angel too. She opens her heart and her arms to the ones God places in her path. So, I just wanted to say thanks Kay. Thanks for making me feel so welcome, but most importantly thanks for being you. </div>
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And just because, I wanted to throw in this picture. Obviously Mr. Wonderful loves his mama! His eyes are glazed over with the look of adoration.<br />
Or, maybe he had a few too many rum balls...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-78483405167640906932010-12-22T08:40:00.000-06:002010-12-22T08:40:13.001-06:00Mama, I cain't spell no moreYa'll, I'm getting old...or stupider. Or worse. BOTH.<br />
<br />
I USED to be a <span style="color: red;"><strong><em>whizbang speller</em></strong></span><span style="color: black;"><strong><em>. </em></strong>I USED to be the go-to <strong>spell queen</strong> of my family, my friends, okay, I'll say it-THE WORLD! It's hard when you lose your identity. I mean, who am I now? </span><br />
<br />
Am I still Mother of all mothers? Am I still everybody's favorite friend? Am I still a Realtor? Frankly, who knows...Then there are the big questions, the <strong><em>deep</em></strong> probing thoughts of life.<br />
<br />
Am I still Reasonably Chubby?<br />
Okay, yeah, everythings fine. I did the ol' thigh check. I"m still me. <br />
<br />
I just noticed I misspelled <strong><em>I"m</em></strong>...<br />
<br />
Sigh. Oh, well. At least Santa Clause is real, and that will never change. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-66525109708510974742010-12-21T07:00:00.002-06:002010-12-22T08:09:06.464-06:00Hey, Lady, it's just a gift...The great road trip of 2010 is in full swing, and as I sit here in Pearl, M-i-crooked letter-crooked letter-i-crooked letter-crooked letter-i-humpback-humpback-i, (Pearl, Missippi that is) I'm thrilled to say it's started with a bang!<br />
<br />
The proverbial white elephant gift exchange with Mr. Wonderful's family. You've never seen so much hair snatching, smack talk with a distinct ghetto feel to it. As in, 'you touch my present, I will cut you'. And this was with a $10 price point. <br />
Ahhhh, Christmas.....<br />
<br />
Actually, it was all very fun and pleasant, especially with Granny's rumballs available whenever you needed one. More rum than ball, and not a switchblade in sight. However, we did have two very nice guests attending, two innocents from the great land of India.<br />
<br />
Abraham and Reba. They were scared. I could tell from the look in their eyes...and they should be. Because we might not 'cut you' with our knives, but if you DARE touch my Walmart gift card which came disguised as a sausage roll, and I had to worry that I was going to get a big ol' log of gross deer meat turned into sausage, then felt the glee that it was really MONEY, well....you don't mess with that. That's some strong emotion going on. Hey, where are the rum balls?<br />
<br />
So, yes, we had a wonderful time! And we scored! My hands are lotiony soft as we speak, scented with peppermint snowflakes, and Mr. Wonderful is cozy in his new fleece pullover. Except for the fact Mr. Wonderful kept accidentally slipping into a fake Indian accent every time he conversed with Abraham. Sheesh! <br />
I could swear I saw Abraham flash some metal at him...<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-75827941663551418682010-12-16T09:59:00.000-06:002010-12-16T09:59:49.306-06:00A little touch of bitterness has set in...Hey everybody! <br />
How are you today? Lovin' that Christmas spirit, looking forward to magical moments with friends and family and all that jazz? We're only 9 days away...<br />
<br />
Whatever. <br />
All that joy has been swallowed up in one horrible shocking moment, from which I am still trying to recover.<br />
THE SCALE. <br />
It.Hates.Me.<br />
<br />
There, I said it, and NOOOO, I am not being a drama-queen. <br />
Fact: I have been <strong><em>diligently </em></strong>tracking my food intake, ( I love sounding clinical about things that nobody cares about), AND I have also been sweating my buns off every.single.day...for 4 weeks. <br />
Fact: I have lost 2 pounds. (Hold on, I've got to scream into my pillow now)<br />
<br />
My so-called friend, AMANDA, ( I hate to mention names, but I will when trash talking friends behind their backs. Of course, she usually reads this blog which makes it even better) who has challenged me to a death defying weight loss goal of 20 pounds by Feb. 1, has lost 6 pounds. While eating potato soup and grits...and not going to the gym for days!<br />
<br />
How dare her????<br />
<br />
Granted, she has been sick for a week, and hasn't been able to leave her house. But, right before our weigh in today, she said, <em>and I quote</em>, "Oh, I'm dreading this. You won't believe all the food I've eaten". Or maybe she said it right after, and saw with great joy that she had just won our 'mini-challenge'. <br />
<span style="color: blue;"><strong>I get to treat her to a manicure/pedicure</strong></span>. <br />
A hideous, vile, and evil something or other is out to get me.<br />
Hold on, I've got to go throw eggs at a moving vehicle, or at least swing the neighbors cat around by it's tail...<br />
<br />
Okay, I'm back. Wonder how many calories that burned?<br />
<br />
At least my nails are gonna look pretty.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-53530888616798377692010-12-13T09:55:00.000-06:002010-12-13T09:55:10.086-06:00And then there were two...My oldest child has graduated from college! <br />
Now, she's headed off to the 'wild blue yonder' to make her fortune and prepare for my monthly white-gloved visits...(Once a mother, always a mother. ' Um, have you flossed today?' 'Darling, you need lipstick.')<br />
<br />
No, the reality of it is she's moving to Colorado and she had to kick me off while I cried, clinging to her leg.<br />
*Sigh*...children. Why don't they get it? That, yes, we want them to leave the nest, but all that means is <strong><em>move across the street?! Otherwise, how are we going to have coffee every morning together? How are my dreams going to be fulfilled with you happily nestled in a snow bank? </em></strong><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: x-small;"><strong>Oh, yeah...it's not about my dreams. Ooopsie, I forgot!</strong></span><br />
Claire graduating from college with her degree in History has fulfilled one of my greatest dreams. <br />
This road has not been an easy one, which makes it all the more...well, MORE.<br />
More Joyous!<br />
More Proud!<br />
More Happy!<br />
More Relieved! <br />
MORE!! (Sung with a slight vibrato in the key of 'C')<br />
<br />
Did I ever tell you Claire could barely read by the third grade? That I homeschooled her in the fourth grade, and drilled Hooked on Phonics, until we both wanted to die?! That she repeated sixth grade...?<br />
<br />
You've never met a child who loved the silent 'e' more than her. When she wasn't sure how to spell a word, she'd throw in a few extra 'silent e's' until it looked just right. Hey, they're <em>silent </em>after all...<br />
<br />
In her fifth grade year, I walked into the bathroom after she had showered, and saw written on the steamy mirror..."I am stuuped. I hate my sef." Takes your breath away, doesn't it? <br />
<br />
Did I ever tell you she took honors classes in high school? That she was a peer leader, and went on to earn a dean's scholarship her freshmen year of college? Did I tell you she worked as a Nanny and helped with a little girl's homework for three years? A little girl who also struggles with school and because of Claire's own experiences, she had an understanding and patience that impressed her employers?<br />
<br />
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Let the grinning from ear to ear begin...<br />
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Sweet Brianna...<br />
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Sisters, sisters...they're were never such devoted sisters...many men have tried to split them up and noone can....<br />
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Moppy and Poppy!! Hugs, and Kisses, and more Hugs and Kisses...<br />
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Grandma and Ted! And more Hugs and Kisses! <br />
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Daddy!! She always was a daddy's girl...<br />
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Mommy! <em>Mommy, why do you have a vice grip around my neck? Yes, I'm still moving to Colorado. Mommy, you're hurting me...</em></div>
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More grinning from ear to ear...</div>
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Hey, who's this cutie-patootie?! He's happy we're about to go have lunch.</div>
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Aunt NeNe and Uncle Wayne! And Madi! Have we brainwashed you yet, that Madi should attend Lee?<br />
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Jackson and Cole and FIRE!!! Awesome! </div>
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Did I tell you that love never fails? And that it was proven this past weekend when our family came together, in the spirit of love, and acceptance, and forgiveness, and joyfully gathered to celebrate together this momentous occasion?<br />
<br />
Gosh, I haven't told you alot of things!! Meet me here for coffee tomorrow morning, I want to hear all about what's been going on with you, and tell you about my latest diet crisis...(can you say, 'arc trainer?')Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-35115642158585770382010-11-30T09:59:00.000-06:002010-11-30T09:59:34.078-06:00Why, Yes I Did, Thankyou for AskingIt's times like these and friends like you that make me want to...<br />
Smile? Noooooo.... Scream with the agony of defeat? Maaayyybeee...<br />
Why? Because, Father, I have sinned and I would really prefer to confess anonymously from behind a thick curtain. The curtain of shame. But no. Instead I will post my foibles, my flaws, my terrible gluttonous tendencies on the world wide web for all to see and <span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><strong><em>Judge. </em></strong></span><br />
<br />
Let me put it to you this way. I hath eateneth more than I shouldeth...<br />
<br />
Spark People was no match for Turkey Day. The motivational talks, the promises I made to myself, the tracking of the food...wasted. Totally wasted. My downfall began with TWO FABULOUS Thanksgiving meals, one with turkey, one with ham, then a football party, laden with marvelously fattening hors d'oeuvres, where in fact Mr. Wonderful tried to keep me from having dessert. BIG MISTAKE. I had the World Wrestling Federation threaten to sue for stealing some of their most famous moves. (Once I had him in the headlock, punchdown, knee-in-the-groin twist around, he knew it was over. Give the fat girl her pie.) Then a road trip from Alabama to Georgia, and on to Tennesee.<br />
<br />
But, I'm back now. I woke up at 5:30am, went to the Y, and DIED. This is my ghost writing these words...<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-90106589657546718282010-11-23T11:13:00.000-06:002010-11-23T11:13:22.413-06:00Two Magical WordsI have only two words for you today: <strong><span style="color: red;"><u>700 </u>Calories</span></strong><br />
(In one measly little hour. I almost puked my guts up.)<br />
<br />
Yes, I'm in bed now...<br />
<br />
By the way, have you guys ever heard of 'Spark People'? Well, it's this totally free website that is AWESOME!!! You can track every single morsel of food that slides down your throat, and it will instantly let you know if you've sinned. It also lets you track how many calories you've burned. There are message boards, success stories, and all kind of tips to keep you motivated. <br />
<br />
Face it, soon you'll be looking for me, wondering 'where in the world did she go?', and that's when I'll step out from behind the stop sign, the mailbox, or the tall lamp in my living room. <br />
<br />
If I believe I'm going to end up as tiny as a toothpick, then FOR SURE I'll at least make it to 'she's as small as a volkswagen bug'... I prefer blue, if you have to picture it. Go ahead and make it a convertible.<br />
<br />
Excuse me while I nibble on my lentil burger, all the while telling myself how it tastes just like beef...<br />
<br />
Tomorrow we'll discuss how to get big muscles. Yes, I'm also in a class 3 nights a week called, "Body Pump". <br />
I have noticed I seem to speaking in a strong Austrian accent these days...<br />
<br />
GOOT-BUY FER NOWAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-15792531294071729032010-11-21T10:36:00.000-06:002010-11-21T10:36:05.941-06:00I've just come up for air...Hey guys!<br />
Just wanted to say a quick 'hello' before IT finds me. The Elliptical I mean. <br />
Sorry it's been so long since we've talked. It's the Elliptical's fault. We've merged and become one, and ever since last week when I took my vows to be faithful and committed, things just haven't been the same. <br />
For example, I now get up <em><strong>every.single.day.</strong></em> at 5:30am in the MORNING (yes, I capitalized to emphasize yelling) ...the Elliptical is very demanding like that. I wish you would have warned me. Now it's too late...The 'Y' has my money, the Elliptical has my promise, and my thighs are burning as we speak. <br />
<br />
My life has changed forever. Or at least until February. That's when the winner of the twenty pound challenge will emerge, VICTORIOUS, and get to go on an all inclusive, totally paid for girls-get-a-way weekend at the beach. My friend Amanda and I are in this duel til' death throwdown.<br />
<br />
Goodbye cream cheese. Hello celery, and broccoli, and dry toast.<br />
Brings a tear to my eye...<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-18949456523196276342010-11-10T22:14:00.000-06:002010-11-10T22:14:23.113-06:00I fought the Teal, and the Teal wonI fought the Teal and the Teal won. <br />
And then I kicked it's little blue-green...well, you get the idea.<br />
<br />
What is <em>the Teal? </em>Ah, yes. The TEAL my friends is my days long attempt to simply re-paint my china cabinet, from black to the oh-so-cottage look of the aforementioned color...and that's when my entire world collapsed. Who knew that bringing light and harmony and the feel of the ocean into one's home could cause such mayhem, despair, and cursing? With my fist raised to the china cabinet itself, I swore, "I'll never go hungry again...er, paint you again!" And that's when the china cabinet laughed at me.<br />
<br />
Because guess what? I did paint it again. And again...And then I spilled the paint. And got some on the wall. And the floor. And on a chair. Now, all the chair seats will have to be recovered. Who knows where this nightmare will end. Does this mean I will have to also replace the chandelier? Of course it does. The TEAL is beyond demanding.<br />
I'll post pictures someday. For now, I've got to go change into my Samurai warrior diaper and wrestle this thing to the ground...If you don't hear from me, send in the clowns.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-25089676367700108262010-11-07T20:48:00.000-06:002010-11-07T20:48:18.816-06:00Blind leading the BlindThe time change has happened. As usual, the first moments are absolutely GLORIOUS! Leisurely waking up, glancing at the clock...ahhhhh, it's only 7:30am...Fall Back has occurred!<br />
<br />
And then reality sets in. Darkness. Deep, black, DARK darkness at 5 pm. Everyday. For months and months and months. <br />
<br />
Good thing I'm a blogging, HGTV, cream cheese loving<em> diva, for it is this, and this alone that will get me through!! </em><br />
<br />
<em>Hold me...</em>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-37393655817392814392010-11-04T00:07:00.000-05:002010-11-04T00:07:32.213-05:00Ahhh...Satisfaction!Today I had one of the most satisfying experiences of my life. It was so great. It brings a smile of contentment to my face just thinking about it. <br />
<br />
What?! what?? wwhhhhaaaatttt????? <br />
Why, is that <em>'breathless anticipation'</em> I hear? I <span style="color: red;">love</span> breathless anticipation. <br />
<br />
Since you're about to burst, and YOU CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, I'm gonna tell you.<br />
<br />
I witnessed a skinny bird-boned man unable to stop himself from pigging out on dessert. He stuffed his face until his belly hurt, shrieking 'what did you put in this stuff? Meth?' And then he went to get himself another piece. Yes, folks, that man would be the naturally thin, non emotional eater, known as Mr. Wonderful. Before today that is. Now, he's simply known as 'Potentially Chubby." My life is complete. I made the pumpkin ooey-gooey cake, from Ms. Paula Deen herself, and now that I know the power it contains, nothing can stop me! I shall rule my Chubby Empire!! (psycho laughter is completely appropriate at this point).<br />
<br />
Oh, yeah, the other great and satisfying thing that happened was that I got mulch. Lots and lots of mulch put in the front yard, in the big, dry, plantless garden bed. It looks teriffic! Instead of lazy, no-good neighbors, we look like responsible homeowners. To reiterate, <strong><em>Nothing can stop me now! </em></strong>I'm aware of the fact that Mr. Wonderful burned many, many calories while putting in the mulch...Do you take me for a fool? I promptly rewarded him with another hearty piece of ooey-gooey. He wolfed it down, and whimpered, 'More?' <br />
<br />
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Real Men Mulch...and then bring their wives a bunch of wild flowers....Isn't that sweet?!<br />
'Oh, darling, have another piece of ooey-gooey'...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-75702225386230154502010-10-31T14:00:00.000-05:002010-10-31T14:00:53.980-05:00To My Dear Adoring PublicDearly Beloved Friends, Fans, and Family,<br />
<br />
Ever since I promised to run naked through the streets of Rome, <span style="color: red;">WHEN I GET 100 FOLLOWERS</span>, I have had NO MORE FOLLOWERS.<br />
<br />
Except for two. And they're now my BFF's forever...Hugs and kisses ya'll...<br />
<br />
Anyway, look, I've got to get to Rome. But before that can happen, I have to get 100 people to follow me. So here's the deal. I'm gonna <em>keep my clothes on</em>-at least while I'm in the holy city. After that I make no promises.<br />
This whole thing is a BIG surprise for Mr. Wonderful...he has no idea about followers, my nakedness in Rome, Rome itself, me using the Mastercard to get to Rome, or even making cupcakes here at home as the booby prize. I'm not sure he even knows what a blog is. So, if you won't do it for me, do it for him. He's never seen Rome...<br />
<br />
Ok-fine. You can come with us...That will be a nice big surprise for him too. <br />
See you in Italy...wearing only a toga...Uh?...Yes, togas are from Greece. <br />
See you in Italy...FULLY CLOTHED...don't be afraid. Just follow me...<br />
<br />
Sheesh!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275378408512478807.post-33786870547605692702010-10-25T15:32:00.000-05:002010-10-25T15:32:01.915-05:00I went, I saw, I came home bitterI've returned from my glorious rendezvous at the Country Living Fair...<br />
<br />
We walked ,we shopped, we laughed with joy. Packed with creativity, it was a feast for the eyes, and good for the soul. I came away inspired, rejuvenated, and determined to make my home look like a shop. :)<br />
<br />
Then, I walked in the front door of my house. <br />
Good God. I gasped in horror. For some reason, until this very moment, I hadn't realized I was living in a drab, lifeless shell of a home. Why, this is no better than a prison cell...<br />
<em>What's that ugly little chair doing over there in the corner? Who thought it was a good idea to buy a television and prominently display it in the family room? Where are the fabulous fabrics and ribbon and fresh mowed hay strewn upon my floor? What about the fresh flowers, the hand sewn quilts, the charming vintage <strong>everything</strong>, not to mention ' what is that smell?'... </em><br />
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Today is a new day people. I just spent 6 hours cleaning, I've lit every candle I own, tomorrow I'll be painting, and the day after that, I'm going to build a tree house out back complete with stainless steel appliances, and vintage curtains...<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14224194225397679255noreply@blogger.com4