The Big G Speaks

If you don't know me and are reading this, you probably think I'm a nut job.  If you do know me, then, well...  You know I'm a nut job!

I went to the gym today after eating like a pig at a trough last night.  I was feeling guilty, so I had to torture myself on the elliptical.  As usual, I plugged in my headset to veg on a little TV.  I was hoping for some Jersey Shore or Teen Mom on MTV.  Unfortunately, all I could find was Dr. Phil.

Don't get me wrong; I don't mind Dr. Phil.  But when I'm trying to lose myself in something mindless, he is not my program of choice.  Since I always have on my big girl panties, I sucked it up and watched the Doc.  Don't you know the very first segment I saw was about a mom who neglected her kids and family because she was a Facebook junkie?!?  All I could think was OMG!  Am I neglecting my family?!?  I sure like the internet, and I definitely LOVE Facebook.  Crap, I have been on it for hours at a time when I probably should have been playing with my kids.

Oh, but that's not the end of it.  Since I hated the message on Dr. Phil, I switched the channel to CMT to watch a little Trading Spouses.  I figured it's usually good for a few laughs, and it always makes me feel better about my own family.  First of all, who signs up for this junk?  Seriously, you know they never swap normal families for similarly normal families.  Please...  It's usually the OCD clean freak who gets swapped for the easy-going, laid back hippy type.

The families today were no exception.  One thing stood out to me, though.  In one family, the husband was ALWAYS on his cell phone or laptop conducting business.  He literally stayed in his home office all day, every day, and completely ignored his kids.  I felt so bad for them.  Even worse, I started having those crazy thoughts again.  Damn, I spend way too much time on the internet.  Look at those sad faces.  Those kids want to spend time with their dad.  Hell, my kids probably feel the same way and want to spend time with their mom.

Why does God always speak to me???  Seriously...  Why do I have to be His fixer-upper?  What is so special about me that He feels the need to continually work at molding me into a good wife and mother?  Aren't there a few others out there needing Him more than I do?!?  I hate to question His work, but I can't help it. 

I have lived a wild and crazy life.  That is without a doubt.  There have been far too many occasions where I escaped something tragic and scary.  I could have been Natalee Holloway.  I could have been the Black Dahlia.  Heck, I could have been raped, murdered, run through a wood chipper, and dumped into the Tchoutacabouffa!!!  (For those of you who live North of I-10 that's pronounced choot-a-ka-buff.  It's a river down south.) 

I did stupid things and made poor decisions; yet, somehow I managed to live this long without becoming a statistic.  The odds were stacked against me; but, I was able avoid any major addictions or vices.  Hell, I don't even drink or smoke anymore.  Somehow I graduated college and even got a Master's degree.  I married an awesome man and have two of the most adorable kids anyone has ever seen.  I know for certain that God has always had a hand in my life.

But c'mon now...  Does He have to point out ALL of my areas of inadequacy?  I'm listening G; I'm listening.  Less time on the internet, more time with my family.  Thanks for the Divine intervention.     

My Disturbing Motivator

Phew!!!  I just spent 45 minutes on the treadmill.  I never do that!  I get bored too easily to give anything 45 minutes of my time.  However, I've finally discovered a cure for my ADD/short attention span.  Yes, ladies and gents, I can stay focused for hours, as a matter of fact.  Just turn on some MTV's Jersey Shore, and I'm in the zone.

I discovered this hour-long skank fest while at the gym.  I was dreading my workout and hoping my legs would actually fall off so I wouldn't have to do it.  I got on the elliptical machine and plugged in my headphones.  As surfing for 20 minutes through the gazillion channels using only those little up and down arrows, I came across a bar-room brawl.  Oh, wait...  What the heck is this?!?  Who are these scantily clad ultra-tan girls with the big boobies and the short skirts?!?  Oh, and who is that big, buff Guido-looking dude who just punched one of those girls?!!!  The rest, as they say, was history. 

Ever since that day, I've been stalking that show like a crazy woman!  I want more!  It's pretty pathetic, really, and to make things worse we only watch the Disney Channel or NickJr. at my house.  Every time I've tried to watch at home, one of my preschoolers starts tugging at my leg.  I'm already concerned about my daughter's fascination with "dancing."  I definitely don't want to encourage her to wear booty shorts and big hair at 4 years old!  I'm already praying each night that there won't be a pole in her future.

But, oh no!  How will I get my fix?!?  I need more!  I know...how about going to the gym on the weekends so I can catch up?!?  I could get on the elliptical or the treadmill and veg on "Jersey Shore" until I develop an annoying accent like Snooki.

Thank goodness I'm one smart cookie.  I also have to be thankful for the fact that my fat ass is lazy and won't go to the gym without some instant gratification.  Screw the heightened endorphins; give me my smut TV!  If it came on every day, I'd be at the gym every. freakin'. day.

I guess whatever gets you there, right?  I mean, I am going to the gym.  I am working my ass off (pun DEFINITELY intended)!  And all the while, I'm able to feed my new addiction.  Sure, my brain cells diminish by the millions every time I watch.  Hey, but my butt's getting smaller.  And right now, I'd rather be a thin woman with an IQ of 7 than a big, fat genius!

Freakin' Farewell Friday

It saddens me, but I must say farewell.  Yep, it's Farewell Friday.  After perusing all my guilty-pleasure blog spots, I still can't freakin' figure out what Friday is!  Consequently, I've taken the liberty of coming up with my own catchy, little alliteration -- Freakin' Farewell Friday.   ...cause it's Friday; you ain't got no job...and you ain't got sh*t to do.  (best movie EVER!)  Sorry another ADD moment...

Now, where was I?  Yes, Freakin' Farewell Friday.  I've designated this day a day for monumental farewells.  If you need to let go of something or someone, today is your lucky day!  Just Do It!  Kick it (or him or her) to the curb!  Leave no victims; just make it a clean break.

And in honor this auspicious occasion, I've decided to practice what I preach.  I am saying freakin' farewell!  With a heavy heart, I must bid farewell to my hairstylist, A. 

All kidding aside, it does totally sadden me.  She is a great hairstylist.  She's phenomenal with the scissors.  Her coloring skill are flawless.  She gets so close to the scalp!  You ladies know what I'm talking about.  She's a cavier calibur professional.  Not only that, she's a great person to hang out with.  She's got the goods on everyone in the tri-state area.  She's funny, and keeps me entertained the entire time I'm with her.

Why are we breaking up, you ask?  It's not her; it's me.  Well, it's not even me either.  It's the uptight biatch that she works for. 

A and I go way back.  Ya see, I live in a small town where they still frost hair with those caps and crochet needles.  I've literally shopped every salon in this area.  Each time, I came home with hideously outdated hair.  Don't they watch the Style channel (or any T.V. for that matter)??!?  Don't they know the mullet has been out of style for years?

Imagine the orgasmatic expression on my face after my first time with A.  OMG!  I looked H-O-T, hot.  My hair looked incredible!  Not only that, but she and I were giggling like BFFs in high school as she worked her magic.  Love bloomed and grew with each passing appointment.

Unfortunately for her, the crew of wenches she worked with left her high-and-dry in the middle of the night.  It seems not all was as blissfully, wonderful with the co-owners.  They got together and decided to part ways with poor A -- without even telling her!  Back-stabbing biatches, but I'll save that for a later edition.

With no partners, A could not afford to keep her shop open.  Instead, she went to another salon -- a perfectly logical, responsible thing to do.  She's still working, but without all the liability.  I am sure she is probably much happier.  Good for her!

Not me, though.  That new salon is too uptight for my liking.  That anal wench who owns the place is always so mean to my kids (who also get their hair cut by A)!  My kids are 4 and 5.  They are not heathens who tear up everything in sight.  They're not old enough yet.  The new place is not very kid-friendly, though.  There are no cheap toys, televisions, or DVDs to keep them entertained.  It has uncomfortable furniture so you can't really hang out there and read.  I admit, my kids love to play in those chairs, but only the ones that are NOT being used.  They aren't rough with the damn things and are usually over it in about 3 seconds.  And they like to get stuff out of that little bubble gum machine-looking vending machine.  Hell, I give them money!  They aren't stealing it, for Christ's sake!

The old shop, on the otherhand, was so homey and friendly.  They didn't care if you came in drunk needing a touch-up (just kidding...well, not really).  In fact, they always had a bottle of wine in the back in case you needed to get drunk!  And their own kids were always in the back room watching TV, doing homework, or playing.  They definitely did not care if my kids wanted to play.  In fact, they encouraged it.  Bring your kids!  Hell, bring the whole damn family and the dog, too.

Yep, those were the good ol' days.  Things have changed since then.  I'm just not feeling it anymore.  I'm afraid the spark is gone.  Ahhh...back to the plastic caps and crochet needles.  It's a good thing the '80s look is back in.        

Blogger Vortex

OMG!  I just spent the last hour and a half in this humongous blogger vortex!  Seriously, I started reading one chick's blog and clicked on the link to one that she follows.  Once on the followed blog, I found an interesting blog that blogger #2 followed.  And so on.  And so on.  And so on.  (ADHD moment:  Do yall remember those Breck Shampoo commercials where the girl tells two friends who tell two friends, and so on, and so on...?  And all the while the picture of the girl multiplies into this big cube containing pictures of herself?  Crazy!)

Where was I?  Oh, yea.  That is exactly how I felt when I was in the blogger vortex.  Where the HELL was I?  And where am I now???  What did I get on here to do any way?  Oh, yea...  I was supposed to be checking this afternoon's weather forecast.  I'm a loser. with ADHD (minus the H). who needs to stay away from the internet.  Yep, that's me.  Oh, and I am still clueless about this afternoon's weather.

But I did find out that it's Wordless Wednesday.  Honestly, I found some blogs that are good for hours upon HOURS of entertainment.  Travis, from I Like To Fish, has lots of groupies.  He came up with these daily blog topics that people use as their writing prompts.  There is Memoir Monday where you tell a good story from your past.  Then there is Post it Note Tuesday where bloggers use these post-it notes to write their blogs (I have NO idea how they do that.  When I find out, I'll definitely let you know.)  Wednesday is Wordless Wednesday where you post a picture worth a thousand words.  Another blogger calls it WTF Wednesday.  Thursday is TMI Thursday.  'Nuff said, right.  And Friday...well, I still haven't figured out what's up for Fridays.

Phew...  Any way, it's this big cult-like community of bloggers.  Who knew?!?  I certainly didn't.  It's like Facebook for bloggers.  You can even follow them on Twitter (the absolutely biggest WASTE of time on the internet)! 

The creme de la creme are treated like celebrities, too!  Folks shower them with Audrey Hepburn-worthy comments.  They have sponsors and commercial advertisements, too.  It's a freakin' trip!  There's even one blogger who uses the strike through in a lot of her posts that her followers swear she invented!  Maybe, but I found that technique used by another blogger quite some time ago.  I even copied it in some of my blogs.  It sure beats deleting stuff.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not checking other bloggers.  They are awesome!  Really!  I love biographies!  I love people and all their quirkiness!  I love that people feel comfortable enough to share their most private moments on the web for the world to see.  I'm a Nosy Rosy.  I love to be all up in someone else's Kool-Aid.

If you are looking for some good reads, here are just a few:

http://whoa-mumma.blogspot.com/

http://www.livitluvit.com/

http://mummy-time.blogspot.com/

http://www.rockanddrool.com/

http://momsaysthink.blogspot.com/

http://batcrapcrazy.blogspot.com/

I can't post anymore.  Every time I go to one of the aforementioned blogs, I end up in the blogger vortex again.  Go read 'em yourself.  I promise you will spend hours reading them and all the ones that they read.  I really wish I had that much time (and energy) to commit to blogging.  Unfortunately, I'm a lazy perfectionist with ADD.  A walking, talking disaster that can't keep a single thought going for more than a few minutes at a time.  Is that a fly?  I thought it was too cold for flies.  Damn, I'm cold.  Where's my sweater?  See?!?!

Thank God for God!

I woke up this morning feeling my PMDD symptoms coming on.  As I mentioned before, I haven't been diagnosed with PMDD officially, but I know that's what's up.  PMDD is premenstrual dysphoric disorder, a severe form of PMS.  You get all the nice PMS symptons squared.  According to MedicineNet.com (siting my sources, Ms. Hignight), PMDD can "cause severe, debilitating symptoms that interfere with a woman's ability to function."  I don't just experience a little irritability and some bloating.  I'm full-blown homicidal the week prior to my period!  As a result, everything my husband said to me this morning made me want to stab his eyeballs out with a hot poker scream at the top of my lungs!  Then we went to church...

It never fails; every time I walk through the doors of that place I'm astounded by my pastor's uncanny psychic abilities.  He's quite impressive!  It's like he gets inside my head, and says "Uh-oh!  These are not very Christian-like thoughts.  I better give such-and-such sermon this week."

I know I sound a bit narcissistic by saying his sermons are tailored toward my needs, but it happens too frequently for it to be purely coincidental.  Maybe it's because I'm the worst sinner in the joint, and he's trying to fix me.  Who knows.  All I know is that his sermons are extremely relevant to what I'm thinking and feeling.  It's a good thing he didn't know me ten years ago.  He probably would have performed a live exorcism in the contemporary service (that's just too much for the "traditional" Presbyterians to handle).  But I digress...

The message was about adversity.  MG (my pastor) talked about how God uses adversity as a tool to bring us closer to Him.  Some of us (i.e. ME) need a lot more adversity than others to come to God, but you get the picture.  No matter how tough it gets, we have to remember that our troubles are only temporary.  This, too, shall pass.  We have to work through them and know that God has our back. 

And as usual, I walked out of church seeing things from a different perspective.  My PMDD symptoms are only temporary -- about a week, as a matter of fact.  And throughout this week, I'm going to get closer to God as I ask Him to for strength to smile at those negative, catty folks in my life.  They apparently have their own tribulations they must work through.  Oh, and with God's help, I will NOT stab scream at my husband when he makes those farm animal sounds at me as I tie my shoes.  For he is a PRICK, and knows not what he says...!! 

  

No Haters Allowed!

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
but my dear, it's so delightful,
And since I've no place to go,
I will blog, I will blog, I will blog.

Ok, that doesn't really rhymn.  But as I sit at my computer looking out my window, I can't help but be reminded how freakin' cold it is outside!!  We still have the 1/2 inch of snow on the ground that accumulated Thursday morning.  If God is looking for a concensus, I'm ready for spring!

But that's not what I wanted to blog about today.  Nope; my panties are in a wad today.  My blood has been boiling for a little while, and I've been anxiously waiting for my kids to go play nicely so I can get this off my chest!  It's a little hard to get it all out when I'm constantly interrupted by, "Mommy!  E won't give me my Theodore!" and "But Mom!  G has my Simon and won't get out of my room!"

I have to interrupt our regularly scheduled program for a brief Public Service Announcement.  Moms!  Do yourself and your sanity a favor.  Stay away from McDonald's for the next few weeks until all the Chipmunk toys are gone.  Those little talking plastic mice make me want to S-C-R-E-A-M at the top of my lungs!  They are annoying, and my kids enjoy pressing their buttons nonstop so they sound like scratched and skipping Chipmunks' CDs!

Now, where was I?  Oh yes...  My OTHER vent.  Why are people so catty?!?  Seriously, why is it so hard to be supportive of your friends or even people who are necessarily your friends??  I'm not talking about just sticking-your-foot-in-your-mouth comments.  Lord knows, I am the world's WORST at that.  Any hurt feelings caused by my big, fat mouth are purely unintentional, and I am always apologetic.  No, I'm talking about full-blown soul crushing negativity. 

Really...  Losing weight is so freakin' hard!  It really is.  I had so much fun putting it on, but I'm paying now.  I know this!  I'm also well aware of how hard it's going to be to get my body back in shape.  Hell, I'm 43 years old; gravity and my metabolism are both working against me.  I know I can't just have a few Slim-Fast drinks and POOF!  I'm wearing a size 6 again.  I'm a realist and a pessimist all by myself.  I certainly do not need anyone else to beat me up.  I already do a pretty good job of that myself, thank you very much.

In retrospect, I bet karma, my number one hater, is biting that junk in my trunk again.  Although there is no malice in my intent, I'm sure I've crushed a soul or two.  If you are reading and are still pissed at me for something I said, please, please, PLEEEEAAASSSEEE accept my sincere apologies.  And if you are a hater reading this, BITE ME!

Ramblings of a Not-as-Fat-as-Last-Week Lady

I love this picture!

Still no official New Year's resolution, but I have started the weight loss journey once again.  I'm hoping for more success this time around.  I'm not willing to commit to a resolution, though.  I like having the option to opt out without feeling guilty about it.  Guilt only leads to uncontrollable  bingeing.  Lord knows, I don't want to start that vicious cycle again.

On the day after Christmas, I went to my local JC for a little consultation.  A few years back I joined and bought the lifetime membership.  Maybe I'm psychic or maybe I know myself??  Or maybe it's just self-fulfilling prophecy...  Regardless, I am a member and don't have to PAY THEM to buy their very EXPENSIVE food.  Thanks, Jenny!  I don't remember how much that membership cost me, but I'm sure JC is still coming out on the better end, financially, of this partnership.

JC is okay, but I don't really like having the little "talk" each week with my consultant.  Hell, she doesn't know me!  And I'd venture to say that she has no degrees in psychology or sociology.  What makes her an expert?!?  But she is my "entrance fee" to the world of JC cuisine and weekly weigh-ins.  I'm afraid I'll have to tolerate her for awhile.

Today to keep my visit short, I took my 3 year old along.  I figured she'd terrorize the place enough that the consultant would make it quick to get me out of the place.  While G wasn't her usual piss-and-vinegar self, I think her tagging along did help speed up the process.  I was in and out in about 20 minutes.  That included a quick chat and a weigh-in.

Now.  Drum roll, please...  After one week on the JC plan, I've lost 4 1/2 pounds.  Pretty good, right?  I'm not just super ecstatic because it's so far away from my goal.  But I do need to learn to be proud of the little accomplishments.  I cannot help but feel a sense of panic when I think of how much I need to lose in total, though.  I've really put myself on the hook this time around. 

This time it is IMPERATIVE that I reach my goal!  I've already told 50 million Facebook subscribers that I would be in a bikini by the end of May.  I even started a group.  WTF?!?  I was having a manic moment!  As is typical for me, I am second-guessing myself.  Me and my great ideas... 

Hell, I am the QUEEN of great ideas.  I love coming up with a plan to accomplish my great ideas, too.  The DOING of something to accomplish the goal, though?  Ahhhh, not so much.  Ya see, my problem is that I am a very lazy over-achiever.  Is it really possible to be a lackadaisical Type A personality?  I am a woman of contradictions -- an oxymoron.

LOL!  The ADD is kicking in...  I am an OX y MORON.  I am an ox (I look like one), and I am a moron (for setting goals I'm not willing to put forth effort to achieve).

Okay, I'm back.  Luckily, the new Facebook group is full of ladies like me.  Most are direct and shoot from the hip.  When I start to falter, I am sure one of them will give me the kick in the ass that I need.  If nothing else, maybe they can help me keep my eye on the ball (or the bikini). 

Let's recap so I can remember exactly what this blog is all about...  I am fat.  I am currently on the JC diet plan.  I MUST reach my weight loss goals by the end of May.  I MUST stick it out.  I MUST wear a bikini to the beach.  I MUST be out of my freakin' mind!