Don't Call Me Mellow Yellow

Dear Mother Earth,

In light of your day, I just wanted to clear up a few things. I love you. I really do. I love to visit with you in far away lands. I love to swim in your oceans and hike up your mountains. On some level, I might even call it communion.

I traded in my gas guzzling SUV for a jelly-bean of a car, which can only be respectably driven if you are a 20 year old co-ed. I turn off the water when I brush my teeth and I recycle each and every one of the 36 Diet Coke cans I drink on any given day. I'm nothing if not a team player.

However, I have a few things I would like to make clear. I don't think that we are solely responsible for your temperature. You're a woman. Sometimes you're hot. Sometimes you're cold. You get to change your mind just like the rest of us. Do what you need to in order to make yourself more comfortable. Who am I to try and regulate your hot flashes? I'll do my best to turn the air down for you, but ultimately, you're changing. I have every faith in the fact that you will do what you need to get through it. And we will change too, or we will go the way of the Woolly Mammoth. It's a pretty simple equation. I don't think that we can take all of the credit, or the blame, for the changes that you go through.

Also, could you please pass a memo to the dirty hippies, steeped in patchouli and mired about in their own filth? The, "If it's pee, let it be," plan for conservation, is not appropriate for the workplace. It's disgusting and it's rude. No one appreciates those who leave behind their biologic waste, regardless of their noble intentions. One flush is NOT going to change the world. And please, drink a glass of water, for Heaven's sake. Urine should not be neon yellow.

Go green, not insane.
Jillian

My family is growing!

Okay-fine, I'm not knocked up. But there is an expansion in the works. It's not really a growth in the typical, "Go forth and replenish the Earth," kind of way. Seriously, who am I kidding? My sole companion is a fairly neurotic miniature schnauzer. It's more of an expansion along the lines of, "My big giant @ss is busting out of my jeans."

If my calculations are correct, someone may need to contact Maury Povitch on my behalf. I would just like to have a construction crew ready to cut through my bedroom wall and lift me out with a crane if that is what needs to be. I have recognized that there is a problem, but am not quite to the point where I am ready to do anything about it. I don't even have a real explanation for my wild and out of control eating habits as of late. Stress? Boredom? A particularly nasty combination of both?

But really, why are those who manage to procreate the only ones who get to take a pass when it comes to chowing down? Eating for two, my @ss. That's not fair. I am at the forefront of the campaign for becoming a veritable Mormon Nun and I never get an excuse to binge eat? Screw that. (Or don't, depending upon your religious convictions. Mine don't allow for such activities, whadayagunnado?)

Since Monday, I have eaten all of the following. Sometimes cloaked in shame, alone, in my car. Sometimes together with friends in various dining establishments. Either way, know that my jeans are so tight, they are digging into my waist* in a manner that is so painful, only true chubby girls understand. (And if you are a skinny girl, please don't email me to say, "You get it too." No- you don't. And the fact that you claim to is an insult to big girls world wide.)

A) This is where it started.

There is a donut shop next to the place where I take Freddy M.D. to get groomed. It is owned by the nicest couple. Back in the day when I cared that my jeans were getting tight and my arteries were hardening, I would see them at the gym all the time. The irony in that was not lost on me. Anyhow- they make the freaking best chocolate chip rolls.

2) Then, in celebration of stupid STAR testing, a few coworkers and I decided to stop and get dessert.This was quite possibly the best freaking cheesecake I have had in a long, long while. I woke up at 12:30 last night to finish eating it. Under the cover of darkness. Alone. In my kitchen. With no light except for the glow of the open refrigerator door. I am not proud.

iii. I have no explanation for this. I was hungry.

D) Then it got really hot. And I don't know if you have much experience with a room full of sophomores after they have come from P.E., but it really defies description.
I needed a slurpee, or twelve, to quell a heat/stink induced meltdown.

V. This last one was just my humble attempt to stave off rickets for another day. I typically don't eat things that grow, but I'm thirty...I really should have grown out of the Diet Coke and Dorito stage of my life, but I haven't. And I don't see it happening any time soon. This was an attempt at a baby step in the direction of eating like a grown up. In the spirit of full disclosure, I took about two bites, nearly gagged on the blue cheese and ordered the aforementioned cheesecake.

*Update- So after I peed today at lunch, I attempted to pull up my jeans and my poor, overworked belt-loop ripped clean off. I may have reached a new low.

Try Reading the Rules

Normally I put talking babies in the same category as midget cowboys, but this commercial is KILLING me. Shankopotomus. That's great.

Shankopotomus

Notice of Resignation

Can someone please explain to me why, with only 30 school days left and 4 sessions of class before I am done with my masters, I can't think of anything but flipping the bird to all of it and quitting everything...effective immediately?

This Cat Went Away

And the mice certainly did play.

What you see here is the creation of my nieces and nephews. Their little gift was to commemorate the fact that they got to go to Disneyland and swim at my brothers. All the while, I was taking a lazer to my FREAKING EYEBALLS.

I don't know who is keeping score, but that's one for me. Zero for the lazer and a whoopin' for the clowns that fashioned a cane for me out of PVC pipe. :)

I'll take a Mini

For those in the know....you'll understand why I find this disturbing.

I am not proud.

Good Day, Fool

I ran to the office between classes to make a couple copies and left two of my AP students in my classroom. They are a pretty harmless bunch, so I didn't worry too much about it.

No more than three minutes later, I returned to find every single desk turned around so that it was facing the back wall. On top of that, every single student was sitting down, paper and pen out, with a straight face and their hands were folded neatly atop their desks.

It was a sight to behold. I have never seen them be more industrious about anything, all year. For that, I am equal parts proud and ashamed.

Which reminds me, I wonder if Snoop is still Mormon.