Wednesday, March 5, 2014

I Miss Cheese

So I’ve said before that I feel like the f-ing f-word. Fat. I really need to shed 15-ish pounds so I don’t have to hide behind jeans and baggy shirts all summer long. I’ll do it too. Long ago I was known as the girl who wore jeans to the beach because I didn’t like my legs. So obviously the thought of spring approaching gives me the panics. Kids get excited about the snow days because they’re out of school; I get excited because it means more coat weather.

So to help myself out, I’ve committed to eating “clean” for 7 days and I’m currently in the middle of day 3, though it feels like day 13. If you’re like me and you thought clean eating was cleaning fruit before you eat it, I’ll fill you in. It’s basically denial of all things good. To me it boils down to eating nothing processed aka delicious. If it has a long ingredient list or anything I can’t pronounce, I’m not allowed to eat it. I bought a spaghetti squash for crying out loud. So I’ve had lots of dry chicken, eggs with no cheese, and apples with no jacks.

I don’t feel real different yet other than I’ve had a headache for 3 days, apparently from the carb withdrawal. My shopping list hasn’t changed all that much…I already bought vegetables; they just stayed in the fridge until they oozed out on their own. I already ate hummus, but with Doritos. Portion control to me was eating from a sectioned plate: If it fits, it ships!

The struggle has been real, but not as hard as I thought it might be. I hope to keep up with it past the 7 days but I want to eat a pizza in-between first. Because damn I miss cheese.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

The Fall of Facebook

We all know that businesses and our grandparents are the ones keeping Facebook alive. Remember the good ol' days before our parents and their parents were able to read and worse, comment, on everything posted? Oh yeah, and want to feel bad about yourself? Check out the ads on the right that are “targeted to you”. Anyway, if you’re like me, you keep Facebook for the entertainment value and the occasional attention it gets you. So, let’s rundown the 8 Facebook friends we all have. If you don’t have one, chances are you are one.

The Sharer: Not to be confused with the Over-Sharer, the Sharer posts recipes, coupons, viral videos from last year, and all the hot new conspiracy theories. God still loves me if I don’t share your chain-letter and he’s not going to cure Annie’s cancer because she got 100,000 likes. Show me where in the Bible it says that if I scroll past a picture of Christ created in Microsoft Paint that I am denying him.

The Over-Sharer: I assume these people left their phone at home that day therefore they can only communicate to their loved ones through Facebook, otherwise why? Living your marital issues out online and putting every juicy detail of your life on public display? Never stop. I cancelled my cable because of you.

Mothers: Do not ask us to diagnose a rash; do not tell me how many centimeters your vagina is; and for God’s sake wipe their noses before you bombard us with those First Day of School pictures. I don’t have enough pills for this. Go on and hate me but I don’t need to see pictures of your uterus. I’m just going to go ahead and say if you’ve seen one sonogram pic, you’ve seen them all. One thing on my bucket list is to trade a bunch of moms’ sonogram pictures out with someone else’s and watch as they NEVER notice. I will reserve an entire post about pictures with your pregnancy tests. Because do I need to bring you a black light?

The Test-Takers: The ones who play every game, change their profile picture to a giraffe when they lose, and answer 100 questions that no one even asked them. Oh, remember the Doppelganger thing? That was good for some laughs. These people will quickly teach you to change your settings once you get a notification in the middle of the night asking for a kilo of Candy Crush lives. God, remember Farmville?

The Politicians: These people are always fired up about something. I imagine them banging their hand on a podium as they type. Picture their Facebook page as a car covered in bumper stickers. Rich and complaining about Obamacare? You dare the government to come take your guns? WHY are we still not drug testing welfare recipients? Still no Dislike button? Thanks Obama.

Humblebraggers- Seriously, I have no makeup on and people are still hitting on me?!
Why is it so hard to gain weight????
People keep telling me I look like Heidi Klum. LOL I don’t’ see it!
It’d be so much easier for you to just post “I really need affirmation, guys”. Either way, somehow they’re still getting 50 likes.

Grandmas- You know the ones…they type “like” instead of clicking it. They use the comment section to catch you up on their healthcare routine and everything is written in code. I have a plan to get the Sharer to restart that rumor that Facebook is going to start charging so the Grandmas will quit. They always think you “disappeared” from their Facebook. No Grandma, I blocked your ass.

Vaguebookers- WOW. I can’t do this anymore.

I promise I’m not hating, because I’ll admit I’ve done some of these same things. But admission is the first step to changing.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Working on my Fatness

Don’t get me wrong…I realize I shouldn’t just throw the F word around. But, I have put on a good *15 pounds in the last 2 years so I feel fat. Let me preface that I’m talking about fat as in the gooey mass itself and not fat as in the size of a person. I can still squeeze into my size 0 pants as long as they don’t need to come up over my thighs. If being depressed about it was equal to doing something about it, I’d be posting gym selfies. (Remind me to write about how long I thought the word “selfies” was a masturbation term.)

I’ve just never been an active person. From as young as I can remember I spent my days at home watching Soaps and eating Spaghetti-O’s. And not a damn thing has changed. I once fractured my arm playing a mandatory game of KICKBALL in P.E.  I was not blessed with the basic coordination necessary for sports or things like walking. As a kid I never really lived in one place long enough to join an organized team and basically I’m just a quitter by nature.

Nothing hit me harder than when I recently had to try to fit in my wedding dress after just 2 short years. I would never suggest this…just live in ignorant bliss ladies. I hope the daughter I hope I don’t have doesn’t ever want to wear that thing because the tulle is shredded.

A few years back I started going to the gym. I got in really good shape (for me) and even did Zumba and a boot camp at the same time. I still thought I was fat. What a bitch I was. The worst part about this *15 pounds is that I’ve always been small and able to eat ungodly amounts of whatever I wanted. I was the girl who worked the front desk at a gym and ate sizzling fajitas at 4:00 in the afternoon while middle age women cursed me from the kegel machine. The second worst part is that I spent 20-something years being told how tiny I was…I never hear that shit now. Now I hear things like “you look great”. Bitch I know that means “you're pretty in the face”. But even my face is fatter, so save it.

Anyway, who’s surprised I quit going to the gym? I’ve tried one hundred times to start working out again and am successful for a week or two. Most recently I got into running and it lasted a full 3 weeks before it got dark and cold. Go to hell Daylight Savings Time. And take all those marathon runners with you. I need a sticker for my car that says 5.8 (number 5, 8-count) I’ve also tried starving myself and that usually lasts until lunch. So I just have to be thankful for the loose top trend and maybe learn how to contour my face using makeup.

Besides contractual acceptance wedded bliss causing me to gain the freshman *15, quitting the gym was my real downfall. But after that sweaty woman came up and told me mid-drink that I had grabbed her bottle of water by mistake, it just wasn’t the same. She was kindof a bitch about it too.

So here I sit, hoping by putting it all out there it will motivate me to get my ass together. That, or accept that things will jiggle when I brush my teeth from now on.


Monday, November 4, 2013


I’m still bent out of shape at some people’s reactions to my views on children. I just spent $11 at Walgreen's on a beef jerky lunch so I didn't have to go home to my dogs, so don’t tell me I don’t know what it’s like to be a mom! I see you letting everyone cut in line ahead of you so you can stay away from home longer. I feel you.  I've wiped asses. It doesn't matter if it’s a kid or an animal, a butthole is a butthole. I've bolted out of bed with a puking baby and cleaned up vomit, just this morning! I feel the guilt of leaving them at home to go have a bottle of wine but sometimes if you don’t get out for some me-time, you find yourself daydreaming about letting your car roll into a river with them strapped in the back seat.

I bribe them. I've accidentally kicked them in the face and then fed them because I felt bad. I know what it’s like to walk in on a teenage boy humping the shit out of something. I got a second one because I worried the first one was lonely. (That's never a reason to procreate.) Hey, I feel guilty leaving them in the car too! I get it. They leave their damn toys everywhere. They embarrass me. I've had to report pee in the floor of a lobby and therefore was shamefully responsible for the wet floor sign being drug out of the supply closet. I’m just like you!

I feel you, moms that are pushing one kid in that gay 3-wheel stroller while you have one more strapped to your back in a sling, just trying to get a little exercise in. I can hear the annoyance in your voice when we’re on the phone and my house sounds like a G.D. kill shelter in the background. They drive me nuts but don’t you say one cross word about them. And don’t you treat me like I’m less of a person than you because I don’t have real kids. Motherhood should be more of a brotherhood than it is. 

In the past week we babysat a 1.5 year old (human) for a full 24 hours and I accidentally opened the door to a group of trick or treaters so now my husband thinks we’re ready to have kids. I’m not stupid, I know all he really wants is a little basketball player. But that’s at least a 16 year return on investment. I’ve done the math…anything short of one year in the pros and we don’t break even. And what happens if it’s a girl? I’m all for gay people but I refuse to have a girl basketball player. Basically, it’s just too risky is what it all boils down to.

When they allow kids to sit in the front seat of a car, I’ll consider it. I still can’t take a rear-facing kid serious. That has to suck for them. See, I’m empathetic.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Diary of a Bad White Woman

I just realized that the reason I can tolerate Miley Cyrus is because I was her when I was 20. I wouldn't wear a shirt unless it showed 2 inches of stomach. I was into rap music. I gave myself bad haircuts and dye jobs. I would have benefited from some lunges. I over-shared on the internet. I got a crappy tattoo and a facial piercing. I thought the music I was into was better than everyone else’s. I kept getting random dogs. I thought I was a bad ass. I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop.

I wasn't bad by any means, I was just so good that I wanted to look bad. I wanted to deny my Hannah Montana. Someone should have taught my ass how to properly apply makeup, told me to put down the hair straightener and that camisoles are meant to wear under other shirts. (I know an aunt who is saying “Yes, Lord”)

Anyway, for this reason, I don’t think that anything we do from ages 18-22 should count. You should be able to delete the history of those years in one click like your Google history at work. (Mine is admittedly 75% Urban Dictionary) Jesus, close your eyes for just 4 short years. Let's all pull a Hillary and look the other way for a while.

That age group does have some things to offer though. College kids should have a go at the federal budget. I somehow lived just fine on $50 a week even with gas at $3.00 a gallon. (Recession) And we didn't have China’s ass to booty call. I survived fine on tacos bought from change I found in the couch. I got all my family gifts from Cato’s for Christmas one year because someone gave me a gift card to there for some Godforsaken reason. (Surplus budget) I remember freezing my balls off to save money on utilities, yet we ran 3 dinosaur desktop computers 24-7 in our house. (Balanced budget) I couldn't graduate until I handed over hundreds of dollars for unpaid parking tickets. (Deficit budget) I know we all shared one bottle of antibiotics from the rich roommate who could afford to go to the doctor. (Healthcare reform) We ate at a lot of places with free chips and salsa. (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) I once pawned a fugly necklace a boy bought me so I could buy gas. (Shift of assets)

All I’m saying is young people, though wild and dangerous behind the wheel, can still serve a purpose. 

Monday, October 14, 2013

Shutdown-Day 14

The government is still on a smoke break, 14 days later. If Congress were all women, this would never have happened. Republican Congress would talk crap about Obamacare behind her back and only respond to her with one-word answers. Democrats would be dead to them. They’d tell everyone how stupid her ideas are and how bad her new weave is. But they’d never quit doing their work, because then they couldn't remind you later about how they did all that work while you were acting like a lil’ bitch. I tried this crap once on my husband. I always do the dishes; I wanted him to do the dishes; I decided the dishes would sit dirty until he did them; I caved after less than 48 hours. I should have held on at least 14 days. Maybe we’d be splitting half a roach infested house in the divorce but at least I would have won.

There’s a reason half pepperoni/half supreme pizza exists. Do I throw a fit when a rogue onion gets on my half? A little yeah NO! Do I refuse to eat ice cream when the chocolate flavor is out of order? Hell no. Ever heard of a little thing called swirl? If Obama’s parents are okay with a swirl, we all should be! What if Brandy and Monica had said “no, I want to do The Boy is Mine by myself”? Did the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air shut down when the first Aunt Viv left? No! They re-cast her ass and kept going. The world is full of good compromises. Just look at Ellen DeGeneres. She didn’t let a little thing that starts with a V keep her from wearing the hell out of a pantsuit and chucks now did she?

Somebody needs to stage an intervention that forces a compromise. A Parent Trap, if you will. And Lindsay Lohan is fresh out the joint to star in both lead roles. Really, I don’t know how much more political Facebook posts I can take. Our Alaskan fishermen aren't allowed to work? Y’all better get it together because 5 words: Red Lobster’s Festival of Shrimp.

Eat your green beans Congress, there are starving children in Arkansas who need their WIC. 

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Government Strike: Day 1

Like all men before them, the Government got the sniffles and just can’t go on. No worries though, I’m here to answer all your questions about day 1 of the shutdown. Will Hilary Clinton’s gender reassignment surgery be affected? Will that youngest Obama kid get the braces she so desperately needs? Will the white people who pick out their clothes still get paid? Does Condoleeza Rice still work there? Because I’m okay with her taking a spa day. Yes you still have to pay child support.

The good news? The Postal Service didn’t shut down. Thank God because I really need those Jiffy Lube coupons 4x per week. Rest easy, your Redplums will not be affected y’all. The bad news? It appears Will Smith has already been cast to play in the movie version.

The Clinton Library is closed. No word yet on where the homeless people are going to hang out all day.

Tours of the White House have been stopped. Therefore there is no eyewitness proof that Congress is just playing Xbox right now.

The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission is shut down so, minorities--you might wait before applying for that next job. But look on the bright side, it appears your checks will not be affected.

Border Patrol: closed. Mexicans, quick, pile yourselves like sharecroppers into your van and head for the border. Bienvenido A Miami.

The Office of Government Ethics is closed and not able to prevent and resolve conflicts of interest. Yeah no shit. You don't say?

Unfortunately you will all have to suffer through the “nonessential federal worker” jokes with no end in sight. Let’s all take a moment of silence so we can hear Joe Biden yelling “Spring Breaaaaaaaaak!” pray for the state of our nation.