A Day in the Life

Old n’ Busted

New Hotness

Yes, I ran over my phone. With my car. Why me, man?

Off the radar

The Highlander made smores last night. On the coffee table. With a votive candle. It was pretty cool and I was proud of him for being so resourceful when we couldn’t find the little blowtorch I have to make Creme Brulee. Anyway, I only mention it because he asked me if I was going to take pictures and blog about it. (And let’s just ignore the fact that I’m telling you about it now, m’kay???) I told him no.

It appears that my little blog break has helped me break up with my blog a little bit. I don’t feel the daily pressure to post something (even though I have never posted daily with any regularity), and I no longer take every funny or sweet thing and take myself out of the moment by mentally composing a blog post. It is honestly a relief. But I LOVE when the blogs I read do this. I’ve always been more of an observer anyway.

Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Just some incoherent ramblings late on a Sunday night. Happy Memorial Day everyone! We’re not doing anything tomorrow except maybe cajoling The Highlander into trading in his Jeep. There are some great deals out there! If only we could afford 2 new cars…le sigh. I am SUCH a consumer.

Why don’t Wii get fit?

Picture Pages Picture Pages

A real post coming soon…

And thank you for all of your care and concern, I am feeling much better. Strep Throat pain is much like childbirth in my ability to forget the pain. Which is bullshit of course.

ANYWAY, as you await my next scintillating brain dumpage please to enjoy the purty pictures from oh, months ago. Remember I am called Type a. If you’re looking for entertainment coherence organization, you’ve come to the wrong place.

BEHOLD..the pictures:

The child, she likey the Chipotle.

She loves to wear dresses, tights and sparkly shoes and then go play in the mud. Just like her Daddy.

Don’t I look so totally Bershon here? This is one of the “outtakes” of the 4 generations picture that my mother wants taken EVERY FUCKING TIME we are all together. I indulged her because it was her birthday, but I wasn’t looking forward to it.

Jesus, I look enormous here. Oh wait, so do my tits. Never mind.

I bought these glasses at Target for $1. And then I put on a dress shirt and ran to leave this picture in The Highlander’s camera. He’s a sucker for the sexy librarian.

—————–
Changing gears entirely, LOL

Waiting for the “sprinkle train”. That’s what she calls it. It started as “sparkly” and somehow became “sprinkle”. I don’t know. But you can see the excitement coming out her EYEBALLS here.

Oh man, it’s a damn shame this kid isn’t excited to be in the city. Tsk Tsk.

When Mommy’s worlds collide. My suburban girl in my urban home. And why yes, that is a Holly G Bow.

I swear it showed My Little Pony when I thought I took the picture. Shit, I miss my SLR.

“Mommy, I want a pretzel as big as my HEAD!”

“OMG!! We’re finally at Pinkie Pie’s House!!!”

Yeah, it was kind of like this the whole time.

Ducky and Mommy.

Blurgh

Do you want to know how old I was when I got strep throat for the first time?

30.

It fucking sucks.

Speaking of Butts

Here are 2 gems from SNL, via hulu.com (linked in case hulu videos don’t embed)

I’m honestly surprised that this product does not yet exist.

But if you didn’t moisturize your coin slot, don’t fret! Just wear some MOM Jeans!

Swamped

I am so extraordinarily overwhelmed at work right now, I don’t have a good reason why I’m taking 5 minutes to write this. Maybe because I want you all to stroke my hair and tell me my ass looks great in these dress pants.

Unless that’s too creepy. In that case, tell me I suck and kick me in the balls.

I’m flexible.

I’ve decided to stay fat

I hate hate hate my gym. It’s not just that I hate to exercise, (not strictly true, I just hate any exercise that can be had in a gym), but I hate the stupid assholes who go to my gym. And I hate the “clubby” music. MUST we hear this much techno? My GOD.

But the piece de resistance, it that the fucking personal trainer shit is getting wonky again. Maybe you remember, and good for you if you can’t, my wonderful history with these assholes who are great at taking my money, but not so  great at showing up for appointments. They are also very cliquish with their appointment scheduling, as in only the people who no one wants leave appts available to schedule online.

I’m also not crazy about a bunch of the trainers. There’s the agressive guy that thinks everyone needs to be pushed HARD, who leaves me sore for a week, there’s the bimbo who talks on her cell, and the douchebag who thinks he’s a “nutritionalist” [sic]. This guy actually told me that I couldn’t eat chicken because of the estrogen. But turkey is fine. OK, first of all, I am a pre-menopausal woman. Don’t I have estrogen?? And don’t female turkeys have estrogen too? I don’t know about you, but I am not examining the junk on my Boar’s Head turkey. How could I know the gender of my sandwich?

Anyway, I found a guy who seemed cool. And his name is GEORGE MICHAEL. Come on, how awesome is that? And it was all fine until he double booked me on Friday, and then tried to lie that he’d booked me for 7, when it really was 6:30. And he wasn’t even apologetic, he was defensive and snotty which REALLY pissed me off.

GRR! Right now I have 10 accumulated sessions, with 2 more being charged on 5/21.

I give up, I’m going to McDonald’s for lunch today, and I’ve resolved to stay fat. Fuck this noise, man.

Happy Mother’s Day

Last year, I was sentimental. This year, not so much.

Milestones

Last night, I managed to shampoo my daughter’s hair without traumatizing her. GO ME! I don’t know what it is, she just doesn’t like it. In a similar vein, I have NO IDEA what I did right today. And now that she’s a “big girl” who thinks “baths are for babies”, it get completely misted standing outside the shower trying to wash her.