Happy Thanksgiving! I'm a big believer that we should be thankful every day- not just one day a year. So here are a few things I'm thankful for. Ready? On your mark , get set, go!
1) I'm thankful for such wonderful, funny, generous kids. Shhhhh. Confession. I totally relate to my boys and I admit I was terrified of having a daughter. What would I do with her? Yes, I like clothes and shoes, but will she love football? Will she have a raucous sense of humor like her mother? What if she likes pink? I'm working on some of those things. She keeps me on my toes and I'm so lucky to have her. My oldest son is such a sweet boy and my little one is a firecracker. Literally. I could blame him for the nail in the coffin in formerly cute stomach, but in reality I can also blame Taco Bell for having Volcano nachos while pregnant with him. Perhaps I can make a break for the border for a tummy tuck ?
2) I'm thankful for wide calf boots. I have freakishly large calves and sometimes the regulars don't zip up. Kindness. Generosity. Pleasant surprises. Love all 4.
3) I'm thankful for sushi, skittles, gobstoppers , good coffee, gelato, and almond joys. Margaritas. Yes. Good margaritas.
4) 2 letters-DQ
5) I have really good friends. For the love of God, these people listen to me prattle on about a bunch of nonsense and lie to my face and say,"T, you are perfectly fine."I love you. I do. I would totally dedicate a hair metal song to you like something by Extreme . Perhaps "More Than Words." You people "Kickstart My Heart" and remind me that "Somebody Shake Me " out of my neurosis. All of you-even if you don't want me to. Love means never having to say you are sorry, right? Did I just quote one of the worst movies ever. Yeah, I'm talking about you "Love Story." Heaven isn't too far away. Closer to it every day. At least according to those dudes in Warrant- well, the ones still with us.
And the rapid fire thanks goes to: jeans with 1 % spandex, fantastic x in laws (a bonus when the marriage bombs), cute guys. (Granted I don't think many are cute but the ones I do.... Sigh), electricity (sukks trying to put your contacts in or dry your hair without it), flannel sheets, expletives, lip balm, football, dogs that sit on your feet, anti frizz serum, glasses (those things that help me see), bad music (Demi Lovato sounds better in the car), good music ( this would be subjective ) , dental floss, frozen yogurt, room spray that covers the smell of poop, Christian Bale, when I don't get the evil eye at Boy Scouts, capes (the cool kind like you see equestrians wear in the Scottish countryside), air conditioners, heaters, Ed Norton, compliments ( I need to STFU and just say "thanks!"), deer in my yard, clean laundry, laughter, friends with "ad " in their name, self deprecating humor, Momo, tequila, warped humor (and it gets more warped with tequila), toilets that don't over flow, low traffic days, and sarcasm. What on earth would I do without my friend sarcasm? I'll tell you. I would be huddled in the corner listening to Barry Manilow eating cookie dough even though the package insinuates your organs will shut down if you eat it raw. F you cookie dough police. Please. Live on the edge.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
If You Are Going To Be A Little Nutty, At Least Be the Peter Pan Extra Crunchy Peanut Butter
^^^^^Amen, baby! I mean, comparatively speaking, I think I'm really normal. And boring. However, I admit I'm processing some stuff. So, if you feel a little nutty, at least be something worthy. I certainly don't consider myself something mundane like a peanut M&M. Or one of those chocolate covered almonds. Boo! Absolutely not! I am a bona fide Almond Joy.
So, sssshhhhhh. I have a few confessions to make. I write my deepest, thoughts and feelings on a blog (yeah, not this one). I'm actually very popular on said blog. Do you see me? I'm waving my arms up and down because I am a dork, so to be perceived as popular anywhere is really something. People actually quote me on this blog and some days I get over 3000 views. And do you know what I think? Holy caca! These peeps must be in deep do-do to quote me and look to me for guidance. But then I remember that I'm good at giving advice to others. To myself? Oh I'm good at the "make sure you brush and floss 3 times a day, never let them see you sweat (thanks Sexy Intrigue deodorant), wear clean underwear" kind of advice to myself. I have these people message me crazy questions and say they have been waiting for me to chime in on their situation. Whaaaaaat? Really? And I can be so brutal with some of these folks. I took that sour patch kid sugar right off to myself as well. Maybe I need my own advice column or talk show?
I have insomnia. It's much better than those crazy night terrors which I have not had as of late. Those things freak EVERYBODY out when they happen. No, insomnia is more of an exclusive club. Welcome to Insomnia where the wakers wake. You have people text you at 3 am with things like, "I know you are up so who when was George Clooney on the "Facts of Life?" or "can you send me the link to the "what flavor ice cream are you?" quiz. Yes, I am still serving a purpose to someone. As I was standing in my kitchen this morning at 2:15 am eating Nestle Quik out of the container (you read that right. Just the powder. No milk. With a spoon-Hello! I do have table manners.) while wearing my "Property of the University of Georgia Athletic Department" hoodie (you must always represent-even while hovered over the box of Quik) and sweatpants where the a$$ hangs down to the knees, and listening to One Direction (no shame), I thought, "Wtf am I doing? Why am I not asleep like the cat? Why is the dog on my pillow?" And then I realize that I can sleep when I'm dead. I'll just keep thinking, writing, and one of those epiphanies will hit when I least expect it....probably when I am eating frosting straight out of the container. Fight the inner fat girl!!!!
One last confession.....well a few. I dye my hair. Ok, so that one isn't a shock. I cut my nails with scissors. Many days, I think it would be awesome to be a guy. I'm not afraid to make an a$$ of myself-I do it at least once a day. In general, I'm really granola. I hate anything pretentious. I have on a belt right now that is literally cutting off my blood circulation and I am about 3 seconds from having to breath in a paper bag as a result of said belt. I ate ice cream for lunch. I love compliments but I never know how to respond, so I generally tell people to "STOP saying that!" I love to watch my kids sleep, which is great because I'm always up. I love to sing Def Leopard in the shower. I totally missed my calling as a Broadway performer. I hate washing my hair-if I ever become wealthy, I will pay someone else to do that. Don't get nervous, I wash it. I just said I don't enjoy it. I secretly love a good karma sighting. Sometimes, I drink the milk straight from the container. Does that disgust you? No worries. I won't invite you over to share.
Spirit fingers to my peeps!
So, sssshhhhhh. I have a few confessions to make. I write my deepest, thoughts and feelings on a blog (yeah, not this one). I'm actually very popular on said blog. Do you see me? I'm waving my arms up and down because I am a dork, so to be perceived as popular anywhere is really something. People actually quote me on this blog and some days I get over 3000 views. And do you know what I think? Holy caca! These peeps must be in deep do-do to quote me and look to me for guidance. But then I remember that I'm good at giving advice to others. To myself? Oh I'm good at the "make sure you brush and floss 3 times a day, never let them see you sweat (thanks Sexy Intrigue deodorant), wear clean underwear" kind of advice to myself. I have these people message me crazy questions and say they have been waiting for me to chime in on their situation. Whaaaaaat? Really? And I can be so brutal with some of these folks. I took that sour patch kid sugar right off to myself as well. Maybe I need my own advice column or talk show?
I have insomnia. It's much better than those crazy night terrors which I have not had as of late. Those things freak EVERYBODY out when they happen. No, insomnia is more of an exclusive club. Welcome to Insomnia where the wakers wake. You have people text you at 3 am with things like, "I know you are up so who when was George Clooney on the "Facts of Life?" or "can you send me the link to the "what flavor ice cream are you?" quiz. Yes, I am still serving a purpose to someone. As I was standing in my kitchen this morning at 2:15 am eating Nestle Quik out of the container (you read that right. Just the powder. No milk. With a spoon-Hello! I do have table manners.) while wearing my "Property of the University of Georgia Athletic Department" hoodie (you must always represent-even while hovered over the box of Quik) and sweatpants where the a$$ hangs down to the knees, and listening to One Direction (no shame), I thought, "Wtf am I doing? Why am I not asleep like the cat? Why is the dog on my pillow?" And then I realize that I can sleep when I'm dead. I'll just keep thinking, writing, and one of those epiphanies will hit when I least expect it....probably when I am eating frosting straight out of the container. Fight the inner fat girl!!!!
One last confession.....well a few. I dye my hair. Ok, so that one isn't a shock. I cut my nails with scissors. Many days, I think it would be awesome to be a guy. I'm not afraid to make an a$$ of myself-I do it at least once a day. In general, I'm really granola. I hate anything pretentious. I have on a belt right now that is literally cutting off my blood circulation and I am about 3 seconds from having to breath in a paper bag as a result of said belt. I ate ice cream for lunch. I love compliments but I never know how to respond, so I generally tell people to "STOP saying that!" I love to watch my kids sleep, which is great because I'm always up. I love to sing Def Leopard in the shower. I totally missed my calling as a Broadway performer. I hate washing my hair-if I ever become wealthy, I will pay someone else to do that. Don't get nervous, I wash it. I just said I don't enjoy it. I secretly love a good karma sighting. Sometimes, I drink the milk straight from the container. Does that disgust you? No worries. I won't invite you over to share.
Spirit fingers to my peeps!
Monday, November 24, 2014
I Want To Know What You're Thinking.....No, You Really Don't
That headline would be a salute to that one hit wonder from the 80s, the Information Society. In the words of Greg Brady, clowns never laughed before, and beanstalks never grew. Ponies never ran til I met you...uh yeah. Whatevs. I just had that song stuck in my head because I am such a huge fan of the Brady Bunch. Get ready for moi to ramble, because it's my blog and I can do what I want to do...
So, I had a teacher tell me once that there are only 2 guarantees in life-death and taxes. However, I beg to differ. It always rains when I straighten my hair. If I wear a white shirt, you can bet that a sharpie will chase me down or a mysterious ketchup bottle (even if I am not in the vicinity of ketchup) will explode on said shirt. If I have to pee, traffic will be bad. And I am at a fork. A very strange place indeed. I don't think this fork is stainless steel but rather plastic, and I have to pick a prong. Or maybe the prong picks me. But I am in a weird place and I must work through this. I can attribute it to being quirky, but not this stuff. It's a little bigger and deeper and probably correlates to another issue, and I can't really discuss this issue with anyone. So, I'm sure my subconscious will help me forge through. It is this pervasive, overwhelming feeling and I am not used to dealing with those. Is everyone thoroughly confused? Excellent! I'm glad I can help you there. I am confusing if I am anything at this juncture, but at least I look quasi decent in my array of fall boots.
The holiday season is upon us....YAY! Have I told you I'm not really a fan of the holidays? It doesn't matter though because my kids love them and well, I make sacrifices for them. We did have our house fully decorated for Halloween on August 29th (side eye to you slackers who waited until October to get those bats and goblins up) and our Elf on the Shelf, Miss Twinkle Lulu, will probably make a grand entrance this week. Perhaps she will show up at the Golden Corral on Thanksgiving (the tradition continues with the non-traditionalist). Maybe she will be swimming in the chocolate fountain? Can I expect to see her hanging Cirque du Soleil style over the mac & cheese??? One tree is up and inflatables are in the front yard. Can Santa help me through my issue? Maybe I need to write a letter to Santa?
Dear Santa,
Are you there Santa? It's me-no, it's not Margaret. That was a Judy Blume book. Help a sister out and put me back on the normal train. This detour is leaving me....flummoxed. Yes, sir I did pull out a word I haven't used in a while. Give the reindeer my love and tell Mrs, Claus that she should invest in a pair of skinny jeans. They do make you feel sexay, until your organs permanently shift to a new location.
P.S. Please don't send UGA to the Liberty Bowl.
Love,
Me
I wasn't funny in this one, no? It's cathartic for me to write. Gobble, gobble.
So, I had a teacher tell me once that there are only 2 guarantees in life-death and taxes. However, I beg to differ. It always rains when I straighten my hair. If I wear a white shirt, you can bet that a sharpie will chase me down or a mysterious ketchup bottle (even if I am not in the vicinity of ketchup) will explode on said shirt. If I have to pee, traffic will be bad. And I am at a fork. A very strange place indeed. I don't think this fork is stainless steel but rather plastic, and I have to pick a prong. Or maybe the prong picks me. But I am in a weird place and I must work through this. I can attribute it to being quirky, but not this stuff. It's a little bigger and deeper and probably correlates to another issue, and I can't really discuss this issue with anyone. So, I'm sure my subconscious will help me forge through. It is this pervasive, overwhelming feeling and I am not used to dealing with those. Is everyone thoroughly confused? Excellent! I'm glad I can help you there. I am confusing if I am anything at this juncture, but at least I look quasi decent in my array of fall boots.
The holiday season is upon us....YAY! Have I told you I'm not really a fan of the holidays? It doesn't matter though because my kids love them and well, I make sacrifices for them. We did have our house fully decorated for Halloween on August 29th (side eye to you slackers who waited until October to get those bats and goblins up) and our Elf on the Shelf, Miss Twinkle Lulu, will probably make a grand entrance this week. Perhaps she will show up at the Golden Corral on Thanksgiving (the tradition continues with the non-traditionalist). Maybe she will be swimming in the chocolate fountain? Can I expect to see her hanging Cirque du Soleil style over the mac & cheese??? One tree is up and inflatables are in the front yard. Can Santa help me through my issue? Maybe I need to write a letter to Santa?
Dear Santa,
Are you there Santa? It's me-no, it's not Margaret. That was a Judy Blume book. Help a sister out and put me back on the normal train. This detour is leaving me....flummoxed. Yes, sir I did pull out a word I haven't used in a while. Give the reindeer my love and tell Mrs, Claus that she should invest in a pair of skinny jeans. They do make you feel sexay, until your organs permanently shift to a new location.
P.S. Please don't send UGA to the Liberty Bowl.
Love,
Me
I wasn't funny in this one, no? It's cathartic for me to write. Gobble, gobble.
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