Things you will NEVER hear me say

"I can't wait to get to Susie's scrapbooking party! I am SO looking forward to making a new page about our Saturday afternoon spent cleaning out closets!"

"I just don't think I can finish this glass of wine."

"No, I'm sorry, my kid can't come to your house for a sleepover."

"You didn't make coffee this morning? Okay, no problem, I'll just skip it for today."

"Yes, I just picked this bag up from the monogramming shop."

"Man! I really wish somebody would have an afternoon, girls only party at their house this weekend. I am fresh out of jewelry, purses, wickless candles, wrapping paper and skin care products!"

"I can't wait until it gets colder outside!"

"My besties and I are headed to the bead show."

"Sorry, no, I can't go to happy hour with you...I've got to run a marathon."

"I'm so bummed that it's Friday...I really would like to come to work tomorrow."

 T. (insert appropriate being here) I. F.
 

I know. TMI. Like I've never heard *that* before...

I will readily admit that I have a bad habit of being an over-sharer. 

I really just don't embarrass all that easily and I am usually genuinely seeking input on whatever topic we are talking about...even if it's super-personal and embarrassing for everyone within earshot (i. e., Ronnie).

Regardless, I'm SO about to go there.

The background: I determined that this year, I was going to do more things for myself.  Women, especially mothers, tend to do for others more often than they do for themselves.  So, I'm trying to reconcile my feelings of selfishness with my need for sanity by doing more things for ME.  Case in point: I began CrossFit.  I have no idea if there is some sort of copyright issue with me talking about CrossFit (the first rule of CrossFit? You don't talk about CrossFit.), but I'll give you a bit of information. 

Number 1. It's a killer work out.  Like, boot-camp killer.  Everything is scaled so ANYONE can do these workouts.  However, there is no fancy climate-controlled gym, no elipitical/stairmaster/treadclimber/etc equipment, no TV and no excuses...you show up, you bust your ass and you see results within a very short amount of time. 

Number 2. It's highly addictive and cult-ish.  There's a whole "CrossFit lingo" you have to learn and it's like, all I ever want to frickin' talk about. 

So, here we are...new year, new leaf, new focus on me, working out, etc. 

The problem: I don't know what underwear to wear.

I'm dead serious.

I'm having major workout wardrobe issues.

Sports bras? No problem...I don't have much up top anyway.  Tank tops/t-shirts? Extensive collection.  Bottoms? Pants, capris and shorts, CHECK.  I even have one of those cool compression jackets with the thumb holes so your hands are kinda covered...yeah, I feel very emo when I wear it.

But the underwear situation has me flummoxed.

Boy shorts? Too low cut.

Granny panties? Too high cut.

Thong? Too jiggly.

Bikinis? See Boy Shorts.

None? Too....just....gross.

I realize this is a stupid problem to have.  Why can't the choice be simple, like boxers, briefs or boxer-briefs?

Being a girl is lame sometimes.

My next attempt at solving this problem is going to be to buy the workout/running shorts with the underwear built into them.  The first time my kid put these on, I'm pretty sure her comment went something like this, "Ohmigod! MOM! These shorts have *whispers* panties in them!".  Me: "I know honey, you don't have to wear panties with them, you can just wear the shorts." Her: *ridiculously high-pitched girl giggling* "MOM! You HAVE to wear panties!"

Okay, so I kinda feel like she has a point.  I'm not sure I can do the commando thing, even with built-in underwear, but I'm going to have to give it a shot, because it's getting ridiculous.

I think I'm over-thinking it.  In fact, I know I am.

I could just wear those Olympic track shorts and basically workout in my underwear.

I'm feeling like there'd be a distinct lack of appreciation from others in my class.

Remember me?

First post in 7 months.  Almost to the day.

In my defense, I thought the world was going to end December 21st and I needed to live it up the last 6 months of my life.

My student loan company received a similar explanation as to why my payment was "late".

Fucking Mayans.

So. Here we all are. Still.

Good Lord, I don't even know where to start.  How about here: the main reason I even remembered I have a blog, much less that I used to actually write stuff for it, is mother-effing Pinterest.  I know, I know! I STILL have issues with Pinterest, but for the last two weeks I've been getting emails of "Hey You! is now following one of your boards on Pinterest! Happy Pinning!".  Okay, first of all Pinterest, "Happy Pinning" is idiotic.  Don't ever say it again. Secondly, are you not aware that I haven't even pinned anything to that board in, like, 487 years?!!? I'm honestly not sure I even remember how to pin, but I can assure you, Pinterest, that I will not do it "happily". 

Stupid Pinterest.

BUT.  I will say, that I have now been guilted into ....er....motivated to write again for the first time in months.  Perhaps the 8 of you reading this owe Pinterest a bit of gratitude.

So yeah, that's pretty much why I am back to banging away on the ol' keyboard in the hopes of avoiding therapy.  Or being committed.  Or medicated. 

In other news: I quit smoking.  And started working out. 

I'm pretty sure I'm having some sort of breakdown.  (Upon reflection, perhaps I *should* consider medication....)

The smoking thing has not been nearly as hard as I thought it would be.  'Course, I wasn't like a pack-a-day smoker or anything...I was more of a "social smoker, plus some".  But it was time to quit.  And not because I'm suddenly concerned about what I'm putting into my body or the environment or any other such lofty notions as those.  No, the main reason I quit is because cigarettes are frickin' EXPENSIVE! (And yes, I will readily admit that the hacking cough keeping me awake at night gets a little old.  But mainly? The money).  I'm a cheap-ass.  Anyway, it's only been a week.  And so far, it's going well.  At least I haven't killed anyone yet. 

Man....all this self-improvement is exhausting.  Is it time for happy hour yet?

Making your own e cards...where all good bloggers go to die.

And make crap.

With funny pictures and witty sayings.

For days at a time.

All while not writing blog posts.

Fifty Shades of WTF?

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ FIFTY SHADES OF GREY AND REALLY REALLY WANT TO WITHOUT KNOWING ANYTHING ABOUT IT? STOP READING. (Also, if you are embarrassed about talking about sex, stop reading...OH, and mom? I know you probably won't stop reading because you're secretly my biggest fan, but you may want to sit this one out.  No hard feelings.)

I generally jump onto whatever “book o’ the month” bandwagon comes along. I read all the Harry Potter books, the Twilight books, Shutter Island, The Help…you get the picture. So of course, when I heard about Fifty Shades of Grey, I just had to read it, too.


I heard all the hype…it’s “mommy porn”, it’s “erotic romance” blah blah blah. Okay, sure…I’m down with that. What the heck? This book was THE topic of conversation at the ball field a few weeks ago. Okay, sure, if these chicks can get into it, so can I. So I got it. From the public library. (Which, incidentally, and a little shocking for my tiny Texas town, hasn’t banned it). And I read it.

O. M. Jesus.

Fifty Shades of WTF?

Seriously?? People are into this?? Ohmigod! These are some seriously whacked “mommy porn” readers!!! I am re-evaluating every mom that I know at this point! Not to mention, every mom that participated in that conversation!

If you haven’t read it yet, SPOILER ALERT! Stop reading now! Really. Stop. This is not a review....this is just a random collection of thoughts I've had about the books since I've read them.  And some of it is really specific.  And you'll get pissed off.  And I don't want to hear it, trust me.

My thoughts on these books (in no semblance of order):

-The writing is terrible. I can’t even deal with it. The grammar, the conversation, the description of genitalia…all of it. BAD.

-Why in the name of all that is holy did no one tell me that the whole thing is about BDSM??? (And for those of you that don’t know, ‘BDSM’ means ‘bondage and S&M’….and if you don’t know what that means…ummmm…go ask your mom). I’m all on board with the steamy sex scenes BUT…just when it’s getting good, he hauls off and SPANKS her?!?! Like, repeatedly. And hard. Ummm, no thank you. Don’t get me wrong….what you do in your bedroom is totally your business. It’s just not really my thing. AND now everyone that I know that has read it? I picture getting spanked. And then I just get grossed out….because I don’t want to think about it. But I can’t NOT think about it. Oh good lord.

-And a second “Dammit, I wish I would’ve known before getting sucked into the poorly-written lives of these seriously crazy characters” item: she’s a VIRGIN. Really? You are really trying to sell me on the fact that a young woman saved herself for 22 years to be tied up and spanked by a ridiculously hot and seriously eff’d up billionaire?? Really?? I would think if you had NEVER had sex in all your 22 years and some dude hauled off and smacked you, you’d be scared shitless. And wondering what all the hype was about. But, maybe that’s just me.

-If I had a nickel for every time Anastasia Steele (the main girl character’s name) says and/or thinks “Holy shit”, I’d have crapload of nickels.

-Sexy books should never refer to female genitalia as “womanhood”. Ever. Nor should your sexual preferences be referred to as “kinky fuckery”. Both of these terms make me laugh. And I’m pretty sure that was not the author’s intention.

-While I commend the writer on promoting the idea of safe sex and planned parenthood, I also lose my focus when, during the hottest parts, Christian Grey (the main guy’s name) has to “pull out a foil packet” and put on a condom. Really?? You are a billionaire with kinky sexual preferences and had a seriously messed up childhood….get a vasectomy.

-The seriously messed up childhood. Talk about a buzz kill. Okay, he’s hot, he’s rich and he likes it rough. Cool. Do we need to delve into the whys and wherefores? No. Just when I’m thinking, “Okay, this is getting good”…we have to have an entire chapter devoted to his ‘scars’, his cracked out mom, her pimp, etc. etc. etc. Terrible. Sad. NOT what I want to read about in what’s being touted as “mommy porn”.

-My husband wants a refund (but since I got them at the library, they were free)…mainly because he was expecting me to be hot and waiting for him after reading them. Annddd…what with the spanking and the ‘kinky fuckery’ and whatnot….that hasn’t really been the case. He’s disappointed.

To be fair: I’m halfway through the second book…I have not read the entire trilogy, so perhaps some of these issues are resolved later on in the story. I mean, maybe Christian gets a vasectomy and Anastasia stops saying ‘holy shit’. For some reason, I think not.

Sidebar: I had NO CLUE these books were supposed to be the author's take on Edward and Bella if they were human and adults.  I totally missed that.  Soooo...yeah....I guess that whole point of view was wasted on me.  And I *read* the frickin' Twilight books....

MOM: Methods O' Madness

Mother’s Day Weekend is this weekend. And although I am FIRMLY of the belief that I’m not a “Mommy Blogger” (and if I am, I’m sure all of you think my kid is royally screwed up at this point), I am a Mom. And I do have a blog. So…yeaaahh…I guess that could add up.

I refuse to admit it.

Anyway: Mother’s Day Weekend. Awesome. Hand-made school craft from the kid, grilled steak from the man…good times.

And absolutely, positively, with no exceptions (okay, maybe diamond-type exceptions) NO Mother’s-Day-themed crap like the “Charmed Memories” bracelet from Kay Jewelers or the “Fields of Europe” bouquet from 1800flowers for this Mom.  This Mom would much prefer sunshine, river time and Miller Lite, I promise.  The whole kitschy "Oh mom, you're so wonderful I bought you this pre-designed, over one million made like it in the world, all-the-thinking-done-for-me *fill in the blank*!", is just not my thing.

Don't get me wrong, I like Mother’s Day. I really do.  It's just all the pressure to "make sure Mom has the best day ever!" or "Make this Mother's Day the most memorable."  Really? Just make it an enjoyable day....where maybe I don't have to play "mom" as much as I normally do.  Tell me thanks for all the crap I do, do some of that crap for me and just generally give me a little extra attention.  Honestly, my husband is pretty good at it…it really is all about me, what I want to eat, what I want to do, etc.

The problem is: I find it really hard to ‘turn off’. Meaning, if there is crap on the floor, I’m picking it up. If there are dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper, I’m sorting them. If the kid wants a sandwich, I will fix it. And all the while, he’s all, “Honey, it’s Mother’s Day…you don’t have to do that!” or “Will you stop cleaning and just relax??”. Yeah, I’d love to. But I can’t. (I know...Type A much?) Please don't get me wrong...I don't enjoy cleaning, I'm not Suzy Homemaker and I'd much rather the kid learn to make her owning frickin' sandwich (for the love of all that is holy...two pieces of bread, some mayo and some turkey! What is so hard?!!?). BUT, it's what I do. 

So basically, you're telling me, "Hey, it's your day and we want you to do none of the stuff you normally do in a day, so fill your day with things that you NEVER do."

NEVER do? Well, I guess "never-since-having-kids-NEVER".  Hmmm...okay, here goes...this Mother's Day, I will:
-Sit and read and refuse to answer "Mom! Mom! Momma! Mooooommmmmm! MOOOOOMMMMM!" all day long.
-Drink coffee until my bladder can hold no more rather than scarfing down one cup to make my eyelids open.
-Pee without A. having a conversation through the door, B. being watched or C. screaming at someone as to the location of the paper towels.
-Leave wine in the bottle.
-Not know what time it is.  Like, all day.
-Ignore all silent yet reproachful looks from the dog.  (I know she's thinking something terrible about me, but I just haven't figured it out yet.)
-Wear a sparkly, "going out" shirt, for no reason whatsoever.
-Not watch Disney channel.
-Not sweep, mop, vaccuum, scrub, pick-up, straighten, etc. (but you're probably going to have to help me with this one, Ronnie).

Whew...this Mother's Day thing is gonna be tough.

It is all explained...

So, my proclivity to yeast infections could explain my need to....ahem...trim the jungle more often than I should?

Who knew?

Monistat for Hair Growth
http://suicidesevemonistat.blogspot.com/