Hownowbrownkow

Where have I been?

2008-04-04T10:31:00.002-05:00

Gosh...where have I been? My poor neglected blog. You know...blogging is harder than I imagined. I thought I had a lot to say, but it turns out that I don't. Well, I do but most of it isn't fit for print so I keep it to myself or share it with my bestest buds G & C. ;o)

So, it's April. Spring isn't my favorite season (that's reserved for Fall), but I swear I can never wait for it to come. Winter in TN isn't bad at all, but there is just something about new life springing up and giving everything and everyone a second chance that I love. Don't you wish we could all spring anew each year. Forget the mistakes of the past year and just start over. No car accidents or pissed off friends...no weight gain or hurtful words. We could just replant ourselves and start again. I'd like that.

I'm not about to get all weird on you or anything, but do you ever notice how bright and beautiful the rain makes things? Things look exponentially better wet. (Stop it!) The grass, for instance. Even if your yard hasn't been cut in months (um, welcome to out house) it still looks so pretty when it rains. And the streets all look newly tarred,too. Cars look clean, rooks look new...just stop and take a look sometimes...you'll see it.

Politics...

2008-03-18T13:30:00.003-05:00

I don't normally talk about politics, but I feel that this speech needs to be spread. I read it and it is amazing. Whether or not you're an Obama Girl like me, I think it is worth the read:

Barack Obama’s Speech on Race

Dreams

2008-03-17T14:49:00.003-05:00

No, this isn't a post about what I wish my life had been or the numbers I wish I had picked for Powerball. It's about regular old, sleepytime dreams.

I have such vivid dreams. Normally, they're dark and sad. Sad in a way that I wake up and feel so glad that it was only a dream because otherwise I would have to spend my days crying in the closet. There is usually a shower involved and there's always this one bookstore that I've never seen in real life, but could describe every inch of if asked.

Last nights dream, though, was hysterical. And maybe only because of the way I woke up. It started off with me hanging out in a garage..like a body shop garage, not a family home garage. David Cook was there and he was trying to get me to join his band. Ok..let's stop here so that I can mention that I do not sing. Not.at.all. My husband says I'm tone deaf, but I just think I haven't found the right song to sing. I'll keep trying, though. Oh, I can do a mean version of Miley Cyrus's new song, "See You Again", though! LOL So back to the dream: He is trying to get me to join the band and tells me that I won't lose weight unless I join. (Jeez, who knew that when I paid that $69 to join Weight Watchers online a few months ago that they would follow me into my dreams) So I join. Turns out his band isn't a real band..it's a band of chicken thieves (don't even TRY to figure that out) and they need me to be a decoy to Col. Sanders. You know, if I didn't know myself any better I would have thought I took acid before bed. It was tripped out like that throughout the entire dream.

Needless to say we got away with tons of chickens cause the Colonel thought I was hot. Not sure that's anything to be proud of but I'll take it. We ended up making it really big in the hot wing business with all of the stolen chickens. Here is where it gets even crazier..you know when you're half awake and half still dreaming and things are a little weird for about 5 seconds? Well, I was at that stage this morning and I was nibbling on my daughter's fingers. There was saliva dripping and I swear I could taste hot sauce.I felt so bad. I wasn't biting her..just kinda nibbling the way babies do when you stick your fingers in their mouths for fun. :o) I'm glad she wasn't awake..she would have died. She sleeps with me while my husband is in Iraq, but I think that would have been the thing that got her out of my bed for good. Mama's trying to eat me! LOL. The funny thing is I really want some hot wings for dinner tonight. Really want some.

So, what are your craziest dreams like?

Remember that dress....?

2008-03-12T13:06:00.005-05:00

Remember that dress from an earlier post that I was going to use as my motivation? The dress that was going to hang over my closet and taunt me until I lost 5 little pounds? Well...make that 7 lbs. What the heck is wrong with me? Why did I just eat a Number 1 at McDonald's with a LARGE sweet tea? Yes, Big Macs are yummy, but are they worth the muffins they'll surely cause? Why do I self-sabotage? I know it when I pull into the restaurant that what I am doing is wrong. I still have a chance to redeem myself and order the salad or just a cheeseburger, but no...I must have the monster mac. Ahh..I am so disappointed in myself. And if it were just the Big Mac, I might not be so mad...but I had KFC last night. It's as if I don't want to be thin again. I'm thin now, I guess..but thinner would be better.

Loser! Loser! Loser! That's what I, both, am and need to be. I will start again tomorrow...and I will bring an english muffin for breakfast and a WW SmartOne for lunch. I will do this and I will like it. It will be the tastiest meal I've had in a long time...and I will lose those pesky pounds (and more since my husband will be back from Iraq in about 2 months!!woohoo) and fit into that dress and all of the other things I want to fit in. My next goal after the dress is this little number:

...hmm...wonder how many SmartOnes that's gonna take? And actually...thats more like 10 or 15 lbs away. Crap..I better put down this twinkie!

Peep Show

2008-03-10T08:43:00.006-05:00

For as long as I can remember, I have been a huge Peep fan. I love those little boogers. I like to open them and let them sit out for a few days and then eat them when they are at their crunchchewiest. I can eat all colors and shapes..well, except Chocolate. I saw those for the first time last week at Target and I was not impressed. I am not a big chocolate fan anyway, so eating it in mashmallow form doesn't make it any more appealing. I am the only person in my house who eats them, so when they come in they are all mine. I purposely buy them for my daughter's Easter basket just so I can take them off of her hands. They used to be an innocent sugar rush..a seasonal treat I could depend on and not feel bad about eating. Lately, though, I have noticed a trend in Peeps that I am not sure I can digest. They have a darker side..see here:

WTF? Come on now. There are just so many things wrong with this picture. The first thing that hits me is the fact that I had never assigned a sex to my Peeps. Who knew that the *Chicks* were boys and the *Bunnies* were girls? Of course, this could be an all male review in which case the *chicks* would be chicks and the *bunnies* boys, but either damn way it's weird. The second thing I find disturbing is the fact that the bunny on the pole is VERY good. I mean, she has some height on that pole. It may look easy, but getting that kind of height with no arms and a marshmallow crotch ain't easy folks. Lastly..does anyone but me think that this whole scene look like its being done in someone's basement? And where do they spend those little dollars? I have questions...does Radio Shack have my answers? I think I'll call! :o)

Cracktards

2008-03-07T11:44:00.004-06:00

Yesterday when I arrived at the crappy daycare my daughter goes to (more on that in a minute), I noticed it was awful quiet. Normally, when I get there the *teachers* are sitting a a table learning to count to 6 and all of the kids are running around like chickens screaming and just generally in my damn way. My child, however, is always sitting in the corner playing her Nintendo DS or Littlest Pet Shop toys. She's not a very social child and, like me, can always spot a cracktard (crackhead + retard, come on..work with me here) so she knows who to talk to and who to stay away from. This particular center is full of them. It's like they went from normal daycare to taking food stamps in a matter of weeks. At this point in the year all of the acceptable and nice daycares are full so she is stuck until summer..bummer. Anyway...I walk in and can immediately tell she has been crying. Now, she is a cryer so I am not TOO concerned just yet. She walks up and here come the tears. I am trying to ask her what happened, but being that all of the kids are in some sort of trance, its hard to actually get her to say anything other than 'blub bah e boo' and so on. I decide to talk to the teacher about this and see if she knows anything about it. Nope. She doesn't. What a freaking surprise. She asks my daughter what happened and here is the story:

Apparently, the girls decided that they would start a pretend business. They'd hire employees, have customers, advertise...all the cool stuff that any business would do. What type of business do they create you ask? Well, a daycare of course. Aim high, kids! Aim high! Anyway, there were 3 people running the center-my daughter and 2 other girls. One of the girls hadn't been to daycare in a while so she had been replaced with my daughter's BFF. Well, up on the return of said Absent Amy, there was an uproar because she had lost her job. Pfft! She was mad and threw a fit and the company split. Ah..the politics of a bunch of 9 year olds. Now, my daughter has her own daycare and so does the other chick. Cool, right? Wrong. A smear campaign ensued and my daughter's *company* has been blacklisted. No one will work for her because she's *mean* and fires people when they're not around. Even her loyal friends abandoned her. They're all afraid of Julia. Julia..just typing the name makes me seethe with anger. This little buttmunch has been teasing, poking, and being mean to my child for years. I tried to talk to her mom once, but she is just like her kid. Apples, tree people that's all I can say. She reminds me of those women who don't say excuse me when they want to get between you and a 4 way at Walmart. They just push their twinkie-filled butts between you and the rack. It's usually at that point where I do my best Mammy imitation and say something like, "Oh excuse me, Miss Ma'am. I's didn't see you a comin' " (I know..that was awful, but it works here in TN. ) Back to the children...so no one will work for my daughter and now they won't play with her either. Instead they decide to take a vote. They're going to pass out paper and have the other (unin-freaking-volved) kids decide whether or not my child is mean. Ok, let me stop here and let you know that my child is the furthest thing from mean. She's painfully shy most of the time and, while she has a quick wit and acid tongue those are only displayed at inopportune times like Sunday School. She's a little sweetheart for Pete's sake. Now, Julia has an enforcer on her side. Kinda of a cross between Mr. T and Gilbert Gottfried. Tough looking and annoying all wrapped up in a little Limburger ball. This kid makes me cringe every time I see her. One of those people that can get you to do or say things just for the sheer joy of getting them the heck out of your face. This kid begins to persuade all of the other, much smaller, kids to vote that she IS mean. Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see where this is going. Votes come in and by gosh my kid is mean. WTF. Now, IF you're still reading you're probably thinking why the hell didn't the teachers do something by this time. Why haven't they stopped this nonsense? I ask and I am told that my daughter shouldn't have fired Julia. Ex-squeeze-me? Shouldn't have fired Julia? We're talking about a fictional daycare facility run by three 9 year olds!!!! Are you kidding me? I told her that the daycare wasn't real, but the vote was and my daughter was hurt. Do you know what she said to me? Do you? She looks me square in the eye and says that Julia needed the job and was only on vacation during her absence. Seriously. Is she smoking crack? This situation has gotten out of hand and I decide its time to take this to the top. This morning, I visit with the director of the facility and relay this whole story. She, obviously, is NOT on drugs and told me that the teacher had told her what happened and realized that what she said was wrong (and frigging cracktarded). By the time I got to work, the teacher in question had left me a voicemail apologizing..nice..until she got to the part about being aware of when someone is on vacation. O.M.G. I am SO glad it's Friday.

Motivation

2008-03-06T11:59:00.004-06:00

Let's check out Dictionary.com for a meaning...

motivation
1. the act or an instance of motivating.
2. the state or condition of being motivated.
3. something that motivates; inducement; incentive.

Hmm..yeah, that could totally describe my trip to Banana Republic this morning. I was shopping online, er..I mean working..this morning and came across this. Now, how could I not get that. It's simple, one layer dressing. That's the best kind of dressing there is..with the possible exception of a clean, cold Raspberry Vinaigrette. Anyway, so I go to purchase and, of course, there is no size 10. Why would there be? Sheesh.. Anyway, so I think about purchasing the 12, but decide that my brain won't fathom wearing a size 12. Which also explains why I don't shop at stores that *size wrong* hee hee. If I cannot fit into a 10 in your store, then your store is not for me. Ok, so back to the dress. Since I can't online buy it, I decide to call the closest store to see if they have it. As luck would have it, they do..and just 10 miles away. I call, they hold, I drive out-cool. I get into the fitting room and notice that it looks a tad stretchier than it did online. No problem..I've lost 10 lbs since January 2 on Weight Watchers so it's all good. I take off everything but my knee boots..my fabulous knee boots. I swear I love them and look 200% sexier in them, not to mention 5 1/2 inches taller. So, I get it on and turn around and...BAM! Man, I look great..um, ok but it is a tad too tight. I decide to test the salespeople and see which, if any, will be my NBF and tell me the truth. I go and stand. A second or two later a few come my way saying how great it looks yada yada yada and finally a guy about 21 comes over reminding me so much of Danny Noriega on the current season of Idol and says, "Are you planning on wearing that to work?" to which I reply, "Yes..why is it too tight for work?" He says that it is and says but it looks fabulous for going out. Ok, well this is a predicament because the only *going out* I do is going out to get the mail or fabric softener from Walmart, so maybe this isn't the dress for me after all. Then he tells me that if I lost just 5 lbs, it would be perfect. 5 lbs? Hmm..lose weight to wear a dress. Not once in my 34 years have I done that. It always just seemed easier to say the dress was ugly and *didn't fit right* or get the next size provided it was smaller than a 12. But he might be on to something...lose 5 lbs and wear the hell out of it. I could do that, right? I mean all i've had today was regular coffee with cream and sugar so I am already on the right track. At this point one of the girls comes up and says she can call another store and see if they have it or I can buy the 12 online and see which one fits better and bring the other back. That seems like an awful lot of buying, trying on, and returning if you ask me so I decide to do the only thing I can do and that's buy it and lose the weight. That's my new motivation...not this or this. No, just a little one layer dress perfect for spring and summer that will hang over my closet door staring at me until I can wear it. I can touch it, try it on, have tea with it if I like..but I know i'll never actually rock it until I lose 5lbs. It probably doesn't taste as good as a Big Mac or Haagen Daz Dulce de Leche, but when was the last time you saw someone rock a Big Mac other than these two?

How does this happen...

2008-03-05T20:36:00.003-06:00

Today was my daughter's birthday. She turned 9 and much to my chagrin she looks 11. I can remember the day she was born and it doesn't seem like that long ago. Funny thing is-I haven't aged a day since then. I am still 25. Anyway..when I got home from work she had decided that she wanted to go to Red Robin. That's fine..we haven't been there in a while and it IS pretty tasty. We go..the food is good, the visit uneventful. As we're getting up to leave, she looks out the window and decides she simply *must* go to Target. This is when I know I am in trouble. Target and me? Well..we get along too well. I can always find something I need there..even if I didn't know I needed it until I saw it (can we say iPod sock?). Turns out I needed $276 worth of stuff. How does that happen? I mean, really! It also happens that the only thing I got out of the deal was Lucky. Not in THAT way, of course (though THAT would be a reason to go to Target)..but the magazine Lucky. I probably could have escaped much less poor if my mom had not been with us. She is Queen of buying things. I ended up getting a shirt for the Coco (our Papillon), a bunch of summer clothes for my daughter, some Easter basket *essentials*, a bunch of cute bathroom towels, and some really cute gifts for upcoming baby showers. I tell ya, my life would be so much easier without Target.

How now...

2008-03-05T14:11:00.000-06:00

Well...I guess the time has come to start my own blog. I have no idea whether or not I will actually tell anyone of the blog, but it is here if I decide to. I also don't know whether or not I will actually post to it daily, have anything useful to say, or even be funny. In my own head I am hys-freakin-terical...but I am not sure about it written form. I guess we'll see..