Well hello there....

Determination only takes you so far. 

Well hello there 2:30 am. You suck....and no matter how many reruns of Whale Wars you try to entertain me with, I still hate you.

Crap No One Needs: Volume 3 (a.k.a Totally Honest Tuesday)

You would think that this would be a prime candidate for, Crap No One Needs, but in actuality, it's the exact opposite. Crap I TOTALLY Need. How I have considered myself a responsible dog owner for the past 4 years? I've been lying to myself, and my dog. Obviously.

And in case my posts of late have yet to convince you that I am indeed the chubby, snarky, stuck in a rut high school teacher and spinster aunt, in need of a change, that you thought I was, let me offer you another example. Crap I Totally Need. As much as it displeases me to admit it, my Great Buns Jeans have become my, Holy Moly Muffin Top Jeans. My Fat Jeans, have become my, Dear Sweet Jesus* Just Allow Me One Last Breath Jeans. I would like to blame this seemingly endless expansion and my ever growing ennui on clumsiness, the economy, and innate characteristics that are beyond my control.

But seriously, it's been 5 months. My knee is fine. I need to get my fat can on the treadmill, start applying for jobs in places I would rather live (regardless of how fruitless the market seems), put my big girl panties(pun semi-intended) on and get on with it. You know, take control over the few things that you can control and quit freaking out about the rest. That sort of thing. But when have you ever known me to do what is rational?

P.S. Please know that, I love you for the intent behind pep talks about, The Power of Positive Thinking. But if you actually suggest this to me, I most certainly will have to physically restrain myself from flicking you in the forehead.

P.P.S. Please don't give me the, "What are you talking about? You look great!" line. Because between the two of us, I've seen me naked. I adore you for your delusion, but a treadmill needs to be involved here.

P.M.S. (because P.P.P.S would be obnoxious and this seemed more appropriate)Please know that if you give me any version of, "I can't believe you still live in that hell hole. What have you been there this long for?" I may not talk to you for a while, because A) get off my back and quit being condescending B) If you're actually reading this, we are probably friends (or friendish). You know what I've been doing. And you know how much it annoys me when people ask questions that they already know the answer to. C) I've tried. Trust me when I say that I've tried...more than once.

I think I need to go get a cupcake and quit with this


* After careful consideration and various conversations with friends much wiser than I, this does not count as taking the Lords name in vain. In this case, it was an honest, sincere, pleading for oxygen. Therefore, totally kosher.

True Confession Tuesday

I wish I was in The -Vo for this.

And this would be nice too.


Instead, I live here.

Okay-fine.

This may not be an actual picture of my lovely hometown a-la helicopter, but the wind (and resulting sand storm) did "blow the satellite off the roof" of the gas station this morning. Thus, I could not use my ATM card. My empathy for hobos, bums, college co-ed's and general ne'erdowells has increased tenfold since my morning rummage for spare change. Seriously, who carries cash anymore?

Point being, all of you losers who mocked the 8 year old me for wanting a camel?

You suck.

I totally should have stuck with Operation Cam-o.

Self Portrait

Except I am more exhausted....less peaceful.

Deeper Shade of Sole

These are the shoes that I have on right now.
I didn't bother to put socks on for a couple of reasons. The main reason was simply because I was running late and couldn't find a matching pair. (I am not proud) As luck would have it, today was much colder than I expected it to be. So of course, I spent a good portion of the morning complaining about my cold, sock-less feet.

To add insult to the injury of my poor, pasty white, little soles, my coworker/friend looked down at my feet and said, "Are you kidding me right now? You aren't wearing white socks?"

Winter, are you listening? I'm so over you.

You're not Sick. You're Single

Most of my (non)dating life can be summed up here.


So when this little gem made it my way a few days ago, I've gotta say, I had very mixed feelings.

Like Maury said, it boils down to the age old debate of, "Do I settle and get married, or wait for Prince Charming and die alone?"I don't fancy myself overly optimistic, but this still made me feel like I had been kicked in the stomach. I read with an eye for satire, but I think that she was serious. And that really scares me.

I understand the premise of her thoughts, many people are destined to be single due to their misconceptions about what 'love' is and what marriage is supposed to be. Beyond that, I have decided that chick is a FREAKING LOON.

Being one who has an idea about the Plan, I REFUSE to believe that this lady is onto anything that even remotely resembles the right track. She has some good points. Love isn't always going to be fireworks, wine and roses. False expectations lead many to unhappiness, but I really don't think that she has struck the right balance between mature compromise and settling for whatever is available. That being said, I have a really hard time believing that the reason I am single is because I have set the bar TOO high.

Another idea that I jump on board whole-heartedly with is how very obnoxious it is to be told how lucky I am to be single. Yeah, yeah,I know that I have had many opportunities for travel and education that would have never come about had I been married. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for each and every one of them, but give it a rest!

For 1) that's kind of patronizing and 2) it's crap. Do you really think that my vacation pictures are, in any way, a fair trade for a family and posterity? Super cool vacations only keep you warm at night for so long. (And really- if your husbands are so terrible, leave them....send them along my way. Especially if they're hot!)

I don't think that the picture is as bleak as she has painted it. I don't think that it is nearly as black and white as she would have us believe. If I ever plan on sleeping again, I am going to have to tell myself that there are many shades of grey being ignored here. If that doesn't work, I'll just pop another ambien or two.

Anyhow-If this is what kicks her skirt up, then good for her. I guess. I just wonder how she plans on selling her package to perspective suitors.

"Hey, Mr. Just Barely Good Enough, I've got nothing better goin' on. Why not just get married so we each have someone legally bound to keep our household pets from feasting on our rotting flesh?"

Who on earth would sign on for that? Would you marry someone if you knew you were just their Mr/Miss Good Enough?

Sell your crazy elsewhere. I'm all stocked up here.

Glutton for Punishment

I have spoken before about how one of my biggest fears is lighting my hair on fire.

I realize now that the runner up to Grand Fear Numero Uno is grating my fingers/knuckles with a peeler.

On Sunday, while making this delectable little treat, I did that very thing. It was probably God's way of telling me that I had no business making these twice, in as many day's....but I didn't let that little set back detour me.

However, Wednesday, three days later, my finger still throbs as a testament to the evils of gluttony.

Popular. I Know About Popular.

If any of you have a spare copy of 'How to Win Friends and Influence People' lying around, you may need to send it my way. I gotta say, I have been doing a piss poor job at getting along with people as of late. There has been much of jumping down peoples throats, biting heads off, etc. Children don't walk past my house...THEY RUN. Fine, I exaggerate, a little. But you get the general idea.

I can pin down a few of the reasons behind my prickly pear exterior, but nevertheless, I am in need of a real attitude adjustment. (That's not really a request for you to tell me what I should or should not be doing....just me thinking as I type.) I just seem to lack the energy required to maintain a good attitude.

I should probably just commit and get myself some sparkly red shoes. I like red. And sparkles. And flying monkeys to do my bidding would probably make my life exponentially mo-bettah. So that's what I'm looking into.