I'm feeling really sorry for myself today because I just finished the fourth week of my hyper-vigilant mega-diet and I didn't lose any weight this week. I've lost two pounds total, which, when you think about it, isn't really anything because a person's weight fluctuates between 2 and 3 pounds every day depending on how successful the morning poop is. Weight Watchers obviously isn't working for me as it is (maybe it's all the not-counting of butter and candy), so this week I'm going to use an iPod app that I have called Lose it! and see if that works any better. It's basically just a calorie counter and it's different than WW because it counts everything you put in your mouth, there's none of that zero points for any kind of fruit or vegetable bullshit. Also I'm forcing myself to drink lots of water. Apparently that's all the rage with the successful-dieting sect. Yuck.
I had promised Kira I would take her to the climbing wall today because it's her birthday tomorrow, and I did better than I did when I went climbing with her a month ago, but I still totally suck. I have absolutely no finger strength and I was so determined to get up those walls, but if one foot slipped, I couldn't catch myself and I'd fall. Of course, I was harnessed in so I didn't fall fall, but I fell enough to not be able to recover so I made it up about halfway on most of the walls I tried. Tiny children were climbing past me like gravity really is just a theory and not a fact. And now my arms are sore. It hurts even to type this.
Then Kira and I met Mitch and Sam downtown at Mitch's office which is right across the street from the climbing place. He has a bunch of meetings and presentations this week at his office so he's there making sure everything is ship-shape and looks nice. He was looking at me when I was sitting in there, and I was holding his gaze and thinking to myself, "Oh well, it doesn't matter if I lose 2 pounds a month or ten pounds, he will love me no matter what, right?"
And then he said, "The lighting isn't very good in here, is it?"
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Gifting
Kira's birthday is on Monday and I don't know what to get her because she is so weird. I've been asking her for ideas and she usually says, "I don't know," but these are the things she has told me:
1. A pasta boat
2. A ride on an "electric bull"
3. Buckyballs magnetic balls
4. A brand on her skin. Like ranchers give to their cows.
I suppose in humans it's called decorative scarring. She finds metal things with cool patterns and says she'd like to heat them up and brand herself.
That's it. I got her the Buckyballs, but I didn't get her a pasta boat because why does a ten year old need a pasta boat? She thinks it's neat, but she doesn't cook pasta so it would be stupid, not to mention lame, to get her cookware, wouldn't it? As far as the mechanical bull goes, I think that could be put into the "irresponsible parenting" category. First of all, the only mechanical bulls I've ever seen are in honky tonk bars (yeah, I've been to a few. What?) and they are pretty wild places, not exactly the place to have a kid's birthday party (but that would be her DREAM) and even if it wasn't in a bar, I don't think a machine that simulates shaken baby syndrome is the best thing for a child. Even a huge, practically grown child. Why would she want that? Why is she so weird? She got what she wanted for Christmas and she LOVES it:
A wolf mascot costume. She's wanted it for years and she finally got it. When asked where on earth she would ever wear something like this, her answer was, "EVERYWHERE!" She likes it a lot but it's kind of hot so she doesn't wear it as much as she would like to. She manages to get it on quite a bit though, regardless of the heat factor.
1. A pasta boat
2. A ride on an "electric bull"
3. Buckyballs magnetic balls
4. A brand on her skin. Like ranchers give to their cows.
I suppose in humans it's called decorative scarring. She finds metal things with cool patterns and says she'd like to heat them up and brand herself.
That's it. I got her the Buckyballs, but I didn't get her a pasta boat because why does a ten year old need a pasta boat? She thinks it's neat, but she doesn't cook pasta so it would be stupid, not to mention lame, to get her cookware, wouldn't it? As far as the mechanical bull goes, I think that could be put into the "irresponsible parenting" category. First of all, the only mechanical bulls I've ever seen are in honky tonk bars (yeah, I've been to a few. What?) and they are pretty wild places, not exactly the place to have a kid's birthday party (but that would be her DREAM) and even if it wasn't in a bar, I don't think a machine that simulates shaken baby syndrome is the best thing for a child. Even a huge, practically grown child. Why would she want that? Why is she so weird? She got what she wanted for Christmas and she LOVES it:
A wolf mascot costume. She's wanted it for years and she finally got it. When asked where on earth she would ever wear something like this, her answer was, "EVERYWHERE!" She likes it a lot but it's kind of hot so she doesn't wear it as much as she would like to. She manages to get it on quite a bit though, regardless of the heat factor.
She likes to share the experience and tries to get everyone to try on the head, but people are reluctant because it's beginning to smell like the worst smells of her head. My mother-in-law said that when she tried it on it smelled like potato-chip-breath.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Personal things about my relatives that I didn't get their permission to write about.
I wrote a card to a close relative of mine who has been in the hospital recently for a subdural hematoma. In lay terms that means the poor lady was bleeding in her brain and needed some surgically precise drilling (gross) to relieve the pressure. Pretty serious stuff! Anyway, I wrote a card for this dear lady and Mitch read it and thought it was "mean." I'll let you decide. Here is what it says:
Dear [close relative],
I'm glad to hear you are on the mend from your surgery. Sounds like things went well and you should expect a full recovery. That's great! But you know what? You are never going to be able to use the colloquialism "I need _____ like I need a hole in the head!" because you really did need a hole in your head! I suppose you could instead say, "I need _____ like I need a poke in the eye with a sharp stick!" because I can't see any way that poking you in the eye with a sharp stick would ever be beneficial, but you never know!
Love,
Sarah
Well, was that mean? I don't think so. I hope not because already I sent it.
Also, I promised you a story about my sister. She never told me it was okay to tell so I won't tell you which sister it is, to protect her anonymity.
Dear [close relative],
I'm glad to hear you are on the mend from your surgery. Sounds like things went well and you should expect a full recovery. That's great! But you know what? You are never going to be able to use the colloquialism "I need _____ like I need a hole in the head!" because you really did need a hole in your head! I suppose you could instead say, "I need _____ like I need a poke in the eye with a sharp stick!" because I can't see any way that poking you in the eye with a sharp stick would ever be beneficial, but you never know!
Love,
Sarah
Well, was that mean? I don't think so. I hope not because already I sent it.
Also, I promised you a story about my sister. She never told me it was okay to tell so I won't tell you which sister it is, to protect her anonymity.
A few years ago my sister had a dog named Pocket.
She was a tough little chihuahua but was always shivering and cold and could never get enough heat. My sister taught her the command, "Under Cover!" and when Pocket heard that she'd go under the covers of whoever had a blanket and she'd heat up to about 500 degrees and become as malleable as bread dough. The last time my sister was pregnant she and Pocket were snuggling on the couch and my sister wasn't feeling too well and let out a fart to relieve some pregnancy stomach pain. It stunk, like farts tend to do, but this fart stunk so bad (pregnancy farts are pretty bad) that Pocket woke up and crawled up to the top of the blanket to try to get some air, and when she had gotten as far as my sister's chest, she threw up.
My sister had a fart so stinky that it made a dog throw up. Now that's impressive!
She also has a dog named Abby who one time came into her bedroom in the early hours of the morning and threw up a whole bird.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Kira in the Car Part XII
"You know what I would both like and dislike? If instead of hands I had one dog paw and one lobster claw."
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Chiclets!
This is the singer Cee Lo Green. He was on Saturday Night Live last weekend with my nemesis, Gwyneth Paltrow. I would KILL for Cee Lo's teeth. They are so large and white and straight and LARGE! I love big teeth. I think they are the most attractive thing a person can have and if I had the money and didn't have the crippling fear of all things dental, I would get work done to make my teeth look bigger and whiter and straighter. Hilary Duff apparently agrees with me because she had her teeth done and although I love her new teeth, I think she may have over-done it:
(Only feed her carrots with a flat hand)
They were pretty good before, but as a lover of big teeth, I understand her wanting them even BIGGER. You know who else has a nice big set of choppers? Denzel Washington:
I photoshopped a picture of myself a long time ago and I changed my face in all the ways I would in real life if plastic surgery was cheap and painless. I enlarged my eyes, minimized my chin, and enbiggened my teeth. SO PRETTY!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Weird and just a tiny bit offensive
I was driving around the other day and I saw one of the weirdest billboards I've ever seen. Here it is:
 |
| WHAAAAAAT??? |
What is the guilty message here? I don't get it! "Dad says I'm the CEO of the House?" Huh? Like you aren't going to even consider aborting a CEO? CEOs aren't very popular in the current economic climate and you'd think that CEOs would be more likely to be aborted, not less. Think, Prolife Across America, THINK!
He's the boss of the house even though you do the laundry, the cooking, the shopping, the cleaning, finding everything nobody else will even look for, and ten thousand other things, but because a stupid condom broke all of a sudden he's the CEO? Because Dad says? Okay, Fetus, you're the boss! And why isn't that executive baby wearing a shirt? Inappropriate!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Shoot
Ever since the shooting on Saturday in Tucson, the back-and-forth between gun lovers and gun control advocates has gotten heated back up. This is one of the stupidest arguments I've ever heard of. If you think about it logically in a risk vs. benefits type of way, guns, especially handguns, are the stupidest idea in the world. It's a tiny cannon that you can carry in your pocket, and if you don't accidentally shoot your own balls off, you can go into a crowd and kill twenty or thirty people in a few seconds.
One of the arguments for guns is that the right to bear arms is protected by the constitution. So is owning slaves. The constitution is fantabulous and all, but it was written when the most technological weapons around were muzzle loaders. Do you know how much time and effort it takes to fire a muzzle loader? And the accuracy is horrible. If you wandered into a crowd of people with a muzzle loader you'd be able to kill one person at most (and it would be a lucky shot, probably not the person you were aiming for) before everyone would run for their lives while you reload. Technology has rolled right along in the last 200 years, and now you can stand at the edge of a crowd, or in the door of a classroom, and pretty accurately kill several people before anyone has a chance to react. I don't think that's what the founding fathers had in mind.
Muzzle loaders were an important tool when our country was young. You could shoot at the British, or bears, or runaway slaves. All important to the man of the 1790s. What's the use of a handgun today? The only thing it is for is killing people. Bears aren't much of a problem to the modern man, and runaway slaves are a thing of the past. Why does anyone want a tool specifically made to kill other people? And why do we want to let the crazies who do want it have it? I think the reasonable people are just afraid of being shot if they get too loud about it.
Another argument gun defenders use is that "guns don't kill people, people kill people." They say that this kid who went on a rampage, and the other young men who have gone on rampages in the past several years are mentally ill and would kill people anyway regardless if they had guns or not, but they all had guns. Maybe it's true, but it would be a lot harder to stab 20 people than it would be to just point and pull a trigger. It doesn't take a lot of thought or imagination to load a gun and shoot. I think the first time that crazy person grabbed another person and sunk a knife into their flesh, it would maybe seem a bit more real and a lot grosser and horrifying and less glorified than they built it up in their mind. (Also, as a teacher I think it would be good for the crazy kids to think of more creative ways to kill their classmates than to simply bring guns into school. Come on crazy kids, do a little thinking!) If you're going to go so far as to kill another person, you should at least have to get a little dirty doing it.
I've heard that people keep handguns for "protection." Protection from what exactly? Who is after you? Do you think maybe you might be just a tad paranoid? Is it worth keeping a deadly weapon around your family because of the one in a million chance someone will threaten you to the point where a gun would be your only solution? If someone did come into your house and threatened you, is your gun handy? Can you get to it in time? Is it loaded? And if it is loaded, what the hell is wrong with you keeping a loaded gun in your house!? And if it is handy and loaded, what would keep this obviously desperate person from simply snatching it out of your hands when you hesitate at the thought of killing another person, and shooting you in the brain?
Monday, January 10, 2011
Thank you! and random crap
I just wanted to write and say a big THANK YOU to everyone who has contributed to our new diet blog, The Chunkersons. It's a community blog and anyone can post so if you haven't checked it out already, check it out and write something if you want! As you'll see if you read it, I have not lost any weight yet on my super hyper vigilant diet, and I haven't even cheated (yet). Maybe cheating is the key. All I can say is the weight better start dropping off or I'm going to LOSE MY MIND which will at least be losing something. (I wonder how much my mind weighs???)
I went to Sears this morning because I had a gift card (um...thanks?) and let me tell you something, that store is UGLY. I wandered around for an hour looking for something I didn't hate and eventually found a scarf and some earrings that weren't totally butt ugly. I saw a shirt there that was made of a really thin material, was perfectly square with arm holes and a neck hole just left open in the sides and top, and had a pocket sewn on the front that took up the lower right quadrant. And it had horizontal stripes. Not even the most beautiful supermodel would look good in that shirt. I should have taken a picture. I also contemplated getting a down vest but when I tried it on I discovered that the arm holes were somehow too far back or high or something and it had ridiculously huge plastic buttons on it right next to the zipper. So weird. Sears, you suck.
I just finished reading Jane Eyre. I LOVE THAT BOOK! So good. Now I'm starting The Poisonwood Bible for bookclub at the end of the month. I better like it. Or else.
There are some bullying/teasing problems on Kira's hockey team right now and boy does it bring me back! Girls are mean. When I was 12 my family lived in Australia for a year, and when we came back all my former classmates had merged to the middle school along with a couple other elementary schools and I was an easy target for some of the bullies.
I went to Sears this morning because I had a gift card (um...thanks?) and let me tell you something, that store is UGLY. I wandered around for an hour looking for something I didn't hate and eventually found a scarf and some earrings that weren't totally butt ugly. I saw a shirt there that was made of a really thin material, was perfectly square with arm holes and a neck hole just left open in the sides and top, and had a pocket sewn on the front that took up the lower right quadrant. And it had horizontal stripes. Not even the most beautiful supermodel would look good in that shirt. I should have taken a picture. I also contemplated getting a down vest but when I tried it on I discovered that the arm holes were somehow too far back or high or something and it had ridiculously huge plastic buttons on it right next to the zipper. So weird. Sears, you suck.
I just finished reading Jane Eyre. I LOVE THAT BOOK! So good. Now I'm starting The Poisonwood Bible for bookclub at the end of the month. I better like it. Or else.
There are some bullying/teasing problems on Kira's hockey team right now and boy does it bring me back! Girls are mean. When I was 12 my family lived in Australia for a year, and when we came back all my former classmates had merged to the middle school along with a couple other elementary schools and I was an easy target for some of the bullies.
I don't know why. Probably because I was the new kid. This one girl, I'll call her Bertha, was especially mean to me but she couldn't see under my dorky exterior to the pure font of meanness underneath. She got the message when I and a few of my dorky friends started the "I hate Bertha" club by writing "Join the I Hate Bertha club!" on a piece of notebook paper and then took it around at a high school hockey game and had everyone and their brother sign it, and then left it on her desk on Monday morning. She went from bully to victim really fast and the thing about the biggest bullies is that they also make the most dramatic victims. She was SUCH A VICTIM. But she eventually got over it and we became friendly out of respect for our mutual bullying skills. At our ten-year reunion one of Bertha's perpetual victims from middle school told me that she still had the notebook paper and she treasured it.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Time Warp
I did something incredible yesterday. I bought a new (used) car, (!) (wait, that's not the incredible part) and I'm pretty sure I traveled through time to do it. (!!)
On Wednesday morning Kira and I were driving to school in my front wheel drive, compact car and for seemingly no reason at all, while I was going about forty miles an hour, the car just started going sideways. No warning, I wasn't cranking on the wheel or slamming on the brakes. It just slid and there was nothing we could do about it. Thankfully I got it back under control, but I was seriously freaked out and had visions in my head for the entire day of being broadsided by a dump truck and having my daughter killed and getting paralyzed myself. (Btw, if that ever really does happen, someone push my wheel chair/hospital bed into a deep pool.) At school I looked online at used cars here in Duluth. I found one that looked to be in good shape, AWD, not a compact, so Sam and I went to the dealership after school for a test drive. We liked it. I drove it like an idiot to see if it was going to sail off like my compact car did, and it was under control even on icy roads. Relief! I talked money with the salesman, thought I got a good deal for my trade-in, got a pretty good price on the car and I was set. I told him I'd come back the next day with my paperwork and we'd make the deal.
This isn't the first car I've ever bought. I've done this before. I'm not saying I'm any good at it, but I'm as good as the next guy. Sure the dealer probably took advantage of my naiveté, such that it is, but like Mitch says, "They do this for a living; you buy a car 7 or 8 times in your life. You don't have a chance to beat them." I still thought I was making a pretty good deal. I went home and filled in the online credit application and sent it in.
On Thursday morning is when I think I went into the time warp. I'm not sure if it happened at night when I was sleeping, or after I got up and I just didn't notice, but I definitely travelled back about 50 or 60 years in time. The first hint I had that it had happened was when one of the idiot financial guys at the dealership called me AT SCHOOL, WHILE I WAS TEACHING to tell me that I don't qualify for a loan and I need a co-signer. The school secretary patched the call in to me and I took it thinking it was something from the teacher or from a parent and it was this idiot! I had a line of 5th graders standing next to me waiting for help with their math and this guy just calls in the middle of the day. What did he think I was doing?
Oh, and ...WHAT!!!??? A co-signer? What am I, sixteen? My credit score is excellent, and like I said, I've gotten car loans before, all by my little old self, but now apparently I don't qualify. So I called Mitch and asked him to meet me at the dealership to co-sign. He didn't want to do it because he doesn't want to be involved with my cars because they are MY CARS. I didn't want him involved either. I don't need a hubby-daddy.
We met at the dealership after school. Me, our kids and a reluctant hubby-daddy. SO fun. I thought since I had been in the night before that things would be expedited and we could sign some quick papers and get out of there. They made us sit there for two and a half hours! (but now that I think about it, that might have been some illusion of the time warp. It might have actually been six minutes or it could have been thirteen days. Who knows. All I know is that it was daytime when I got there, and nighttime when I left.) Finally, a financial douche came out to get us so we could go in to his office and sign the papers. Here's how that meeting went:
Financial Douche (FD) - (walking up to Mitch and sticking out his hand for a hearty, manly handshake) Hey there, Mitch is it? Nice to meet you, my name is Douchy McDoucherson. (giving me NOT a hearty handshake, but a slight-to-no acknowledging glance, and a head nod)
Mitch - hi. uh..yes, it's mitch. (lack of capitals indicates lack of enthusiasm, and embarrassment at the blatant chauvenism displayed to his wife)
FD - Oh! I see by your jacket that you're a hockey coach! Wow! I also am involved in sports! We have so much in common! Let's walk together! Your concubine can follow! Or not! Who cares! I understand you have a penis! I also have a penis! How do you like your balls? I really like mine a LOT! I feel so special having testosterone coursing through my veins, don't you?
Mitch - .....uh...
At this point we had reached the office. We sat down and FD continued to talk to Mitch about the wonders of being a man, ("Isn't it great to be able to lift heavy things and open jars?") and eventually about the car. I was seething even more than I was seething when I was kept waiting for two hours. I had already figured out what I was going to pay for a downpayment, already settled what I was going to get for my trade-in but FD didn't have the correct information. He said that I had agreed to a thousand dollars less for my trade in than I had actually agreed to, and I had it IN WRITING! When I showed him he said, "Yes, but there are fees we charge like this (pointing to a $650 itemized something in the plus column, and a $300 itemized something in the minus column.) and he looked at me like I was a stupid child. Mitch said, "That doesn't make any sense. How can a plus $650 and a negative $300 add up to losing a thousand dollars on a quoted trade-in price? Even if they were both in the negative column they would still only add up to $950." FD said something about having to clean the car and get it ready for sale blah blah blah, balls, penis, balls. (I want a job working as a car cleaner for a dealership because apparently they pay $1000 per car.)
We got the papers all signed, I got the payments that I wanted, and the car was mine. Finally. So FD walked us out:
FD - Say Mitch, do you have any hair on your chest? I have a few on my chest and it makes me feel soooooooo superior to anyone who can grow a baby in their body! Here, look! It's in a patch and it goes all the way down to my nethers!
Mitch - .......
So anyway, the bottom line is that we went through an extremely painful experience with a chauvenistic bastard so I could drive off in a BRAND NEW! eight year old car with all wheel drive so I don't get killed when I try to go anywhere, and I learned time travel is possible, although I don't really know how it happened, and I spent the better part of the day yesterday in Duluth somewhere between 1950 and 1960. The fifties, what a magical time for women! And blacks. And anyone else who didn't have a set of white balls.
On Wednesday morning Kira and I were driving to school in my front wheel drive, compact car and for seemingly no reason at all, while I was going about forty miles an hour, the car just started going sideways. No warning, I wasn't cranking on the wheel or slamming on the brakes. It just slid and there was nothing we could do about it. Thankfully I got it back under control, but I was seriously freaked out and had visions in my head for the entire day of being broadsided by a dump truck and having my daughter killed and getting paralyzed myself. (Btw, if that ever really does happen, someone push my wheel chair/hospital bed into a deep pool.) At school I looked online at used cars here in Duluth. I found one that looked to be in good shape, AWD, not a compact, so Sam and I went to the dealership after school for a test drive. We liked it. I drove it like an idiot to see if it was going to sail off like my compact car did, and it was under control even on icy roads. Relief! I talked money with the salesman, thought I got a good deal for my trade-in, got a pretty good price on the car and I was set. I told him I'd come back the next day with my paperwork and we'd make the deal.
This isn't the first car I've ever bought. I've done this before. I'm not saying I'm any good at it, but I'm as good as the next guy. Sure the dealer probably took advantage of my naiveté, such that it is, but like Mitch says, "They do this for a living; you buy a car 7 or 8 times in your life. You don't have a chance to beat them." I still thought I was making a pretty good deal. I went home and filled in the online credit application and sent it in.
On Thursday morning is when I think I went into the time warp. I'm not sure if it happened at night when I was sleeping, or after I got up and I just didn't notice, but I definitely travelled back about 50 or 60 years in time. The first hint I had that it had happened was when one of the idiot financial guys at the dealership called me AT SCHOOL, WHILE I WAS TEACHING to tell me that I don't qualify for a loan and I need a co-signer. The school secretary patched the call in to me and I took it thinking it was something from the teacher or from a parent and it was this idiot! I had a line of 5th graders standing next to me waiting for help with their math and this guy just calls in the middle of the day. What did he think I was doing?
Oh, and ...WHAT!!!??? A co-signer? What am I, sixteen? My credit score is excellent, and like I said, I've gotten car loans before, all by my little old self, but now apparently I don't qualify. So I called Mitch and asked him to meet me at the dealership to co-sign. He didn't want to do it because he doesn't want to be involved with my cars because they are MY CARS. I didn't want him involved either. I don't need a hubby-daddy.
We met at the dealership after school. Me, our kids and a reluctant hubby-daddy. SO fun. I thought since I had been in the night before that things would be expedited and we could sign some quick papers and get out of there. They made us sit there for two and a half hours! (but now that I think about it, that might have been some illusion of the time warp. It might have actually been six minutes or it could have been thirteen days. Who knows. All I know is that it was daytime when I got there, and nighttime when I left.) Finally, a financial douche came out to get us so we could go in to his office and sign the papers. Here's how that meeting went:
Financial Douche (FD) - (walking up to Mitch and sticking out his hand for a hearty, manly handshake) Hey there, Mitch is it? Nice to meet you, my name is Douchy McDoucherson. (giving me NOT a hearty handshake, but a slight-to-no acknowledging glance, and a head nod)
Mitch - hi. uh..yes, it's mitch. (lack of capitals indicates lack of enthusiasm, and embarrassment at the blatant chauvenism displayed to his wife)
FD - Oh! I see by your jacket that you're a hockey coach! Wow! I also am involved in sports! We have so much in common! Let's walk together! Your concubine can follow! Or not! Who cares! I understand you have a penis! I also have a penis! How do you like your balls? I really like mine a LOT! I feel so special having testosterone coursing through my veins, don't you?
Mitch - .....uh...
At this point we had reached the office. We sat down and FD continued to talk to Mitch about the wonders of being a man, ("Isn't it great to be able to lift heavy things and open jars?") and eventually about the car. I was seething even more than I was seething when I was kept waiting for two hours. I had already figured out what I was going to pay for a downpayment, already settled what I was going to get for my trade-in but FD didn't have the correct information. He said that I had agreed to a thousand dollars less for my trade in than I had actually agreed to, and I had it IN WRITING! When I showed him he said, "Yes, but there are fees we charge like this (pointing to a $650 itemized something in the plus column, and a $300 itemized something in the minus column.) and he looked at me like I was a stupid child. Mitch said, "That doesn't make any sense. How can a plus $650 and a negative $300 add up to losing a thousand dollars on a quoted trade-in price? Even if they were both in the negative column they would still only add up to $950." FD said something about having to clean the car and get it ready for sale blah blah blah, balls, penis, balls. (I want a job working as a car cleaner for a dealership because apparently they pay $1000 per car.)
We got the papers all signed, I got the payments that I wanted, and the car was mine. Finally. So FD walked us out:
FD - Say Mitch, do you have any hair on your chest? I have a few on my chest and it makes me feel soooooooo superior to anyone who can grow a baby in their body! Here, look! It's in a patch and it goes all the way down to my nethers!
Mitch - .......
So anyway, the bottom line is that we went through an extremely painful experience with a chauvenistic bastard so I could drive off in a BRAND NEW! eight year old car with all wheel drive so I don't get killed when I try to go anywhere, and I learned time travel is possible, although I don't really know how it happened, and I spent the better part of the day yesterday in Duluth somewhere between 1950 and 1960. The fifties, what a magical time for women! And blacks. And anyone else who didn't have a set of white balls.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Resolutions, Day 1: Success!
I am doing well, this January 2nd, on following my resolutions that I made up for myself yesterday! I worked out last night and I'm sore today even though it was a weenie workout. (Weenie workout or not, 1 down, 349 to go!) and I joined Weight Watchers online for three months. Now that I have paid someone money to have access to a website to help my lose my own fat, I will hopefully feel obligated to do it or it will be like the money was flushed down the toilet. I also went rock climbing with Kira today, but I don't know if that can be called a workout because it wasn't that hard. My forearms took a beating and will be ridiculously sore tomorrow, but other than that, it wasn't very taxing.
I also started a community diet blog to discuss dieting/exercising issues and I set it up so anyone can post to it. It's called "The Chunkersons" and you can get to it HERE. I hope if you are on a diet as well, or think you should be, or just want to laugh at my pain, you will visit it, and if you are on a diet or even if you have any good dieting tips or tricks, please please please contribute by writing a post or two (or as many as you want) It's not MY blog, it's a community blog, and I will be contributing to it. When I diet I feel like it takes over my whole life but I don't want it to take over my blog too, so that's why I started it.
Spidergirl!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
I'm Resolute
Last year I made ten New Year's Resolutions. One of the unfortunate things about having a blog is that I actually wrote that stuff down and can go back and read it and see how I did. Here's how I did:
1. I will study another language. (I originally wrote "I will learn another language" but that's setting the bar a bit high.) It might be Spanish, it might be Na'vi. Probably Na'vi, although I did take 6 years of Spanish and it is an actual language used by millions of humans, so it might be more practical and more useful. FAIL
2. I will stop being so practical. FAIL
5. I'll get a real job. Plan A: NASA. If that doesn't work out, Plan B: Hollywood. If not at NASA or Hollywood then nowhere. Sorry, Mitch.
1/1/11: I got the food out from under the F key! But I have not stopped eating over my computer, but I am more careful.
10. I will not be disappointed with myself when I don't do any of the previous nine things on this list. FAIL
I wrote those resolutions as kind of a joke, but I didn't do very well and I am kind of disappointed despite number 10. That's kind of sad. Nobody likes to fail.
Okay, on to this year's resolutions. No jokes this time. I'm holding myself accountable to myself this year.
1. Lose weight. I know, that's so lame and so overly-resoluted, but I need to lose some weight. Specifically 26 pounds. I feel achy and old and although I actually kind of like my soft, marshmallow-like midsection, I really really HATE being startled by seeing my fat face that is starting to disappear into my neck when I glance into a mirror. If I had a nice neck-line I could be 400 pounds and I wouldn't really care. I'm just vain enough so that matters to me.
2. I'm going to try to work out 350 times this year. That's at least a half hour almost every single day of the year. I'm going to count any work-out over 75 minutes as two work-outs. I just came up with this off the top of my head, so I am not very confident about how this will turn out. I actually like exercising after I get past the muscle-soreness phase. But I really really hate the muscle-soreness phase.
3. I'm going to try to stop picking at my split ends. I get a little obsessed with split ends and feel compelled to pull the splitters out of my head because I see them as being subversive to the rest of the hairs which are really trying to be thick and healthy and beautiful, which is crazy. It's going to be hard, but my hair will look better for it.
4. I'm going to save 10% of all of our income into our IRA account.
5. I'm going to travel somewhere cool. My dad and I are talking about going to Easter Island, and I would like to take my kids to Washington DC when the cherry trees blossom. If I do either one I will count this resolution as a win.
I think that is enough. I'm starting the diet in earnest on Monday because we have to eat up the holiday leftovers (remember, I'm practical) but on Monday morning, all leftovers go in the trash and the food journal begins!
What are you doing for resolutions? Anyone want to be diet-support partners?
1. I will study another language. (I originally wrote "I will learn another language" but that's setting the bar a bit high.) It might be Spanish, it might be Na'vi. Probably Na'vi, although I did take 6 years of Spanish and it is an actual language used by millions of humans, so it might be more practical and more useful. FAIL
1/1/11: I did not learn or study another language. I went to the library once with the idea that I would get some foreign language tapes, but I had to go to the bathroom so bad, I just grabbed a couple fiction novels off the "new releases" shelf and left. I peed my pants a little anyway on the way to the car, so I might as well have lingered over the Rosetta Stone display and picked up some Spanish or Italian. I did watch The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo in Swedish (with subtitles) and learned how to say "motherfucker" in Swedish (Jävel). Does that count?
2. I will stop being so practical. FAIL
1/1/11: I will never be able to not be practical. I'm just being realistic. I am linear and literal and I can't help it.
3. I will continue teaching myself to play the guitar. I got a guitar a few years ago and I taught myself quite a bit, and this year I will practice and learn more stuff. Watch out B7 chord, this year you're mine. FAIL
1/1/11: I think right after I wrote the resolution post I picked up the guitar and promptly broke a string. I'm looking at the guitar right now and it's dusty and the string is still broken.
4. I will be more social...... JUST KIDDING! Ha ha.. I really make myself laugh sometimes!
1/1/11: Does the internet count? Because if it does, I'm really a social person. I got a phone this year too and have added texting to my social repertoire, so yeah, I guess I've gotten more social. WIN!
5. I'll get a real job. Plan A: NASA. If that doesn't work out, Plan B: Hollywood. If not at NASA or Hollywood then nowhere. Sorry, Mitch.
1/1/11: NASA didn't work out as far as employment is concerned, but I DID go to the National Air and Space Museum and some some cool spacey stuff, and that's further that I thought I'd get on the NASA path. I got nowhere on the Hollywood front. I'm waiting for someone to offer me a ridiculous amount of money to write for either The Office or Modern Family. It hasn't happened yet, but I'm ready, so I'm not really going to count that as my fail. I'm still substitute teaching which I don't know if you can call a "job."
6. I'll wash that gray right out of my hair. WIN!
6. I'll wash that gray right out of my hair. WIN!
1/1/11: As I write this, my hair is a lightish brown with blondish streaks. It is no longer sewer-rat-brown with gray patches. I look at least six months younger than my real age.
7. I'll make a goal during the mother/daughter hockey game in March, and I'll do it wearing figure skates. (real resolution: I will not get permanently injured during the mother/daughter game.)(Note to self: start being nicer to Kira.)
7. I'll make a goal during the mother/daughter hockey game in March, and I'll do it wearing figure skates. (real resolution: I will not get permanently injured during the mother/daughter game.)(Note to self: start being nicer to Kira.)
1/1/11: The mother/daughter game never happened! The other mothers were all talk (braggarts) and decided not to play. I was ready. I had my figure skates sharpened and I was mentally prepared to wear all of Sam's stinky hockey equipment and go out and get pummeled by my daughter and her friends.
8. I will make ten different edible dishes in a bundt pan. I'm counting last week's meatloaf as one even thought it was technically last year, and I'm also counting cake as one. Eight more to go. Next week: Jello mold. FAIL
8. I will make ten different edible dishes in a bundt pan. I'm counting last week's meatloaf as one even thought it was technically last year, and I'm also counting cake as one. Eight more to go. Next week: Jello mold. FAIL
1/1/11: I totally forgot I made this resolution right after I wrote it. Sounds like a lame resolution. But the meatloaf was pretty cool. Maybe I should revive this...
9. I will get the crumb of food out from under the F key on my keyboard, and I won't eat over my computer anymore. WIN! (and also fail)
9. I will get the crumb of food out from under the F key on my keyboard, and I won't eat over my computer anymore. WIN! (and also fail)
1/1/11: I got the food out from under the F key! But I have not stopped eating over my computer, but I am more careful.
10. I will not be disappointed with myself when I don't do any of the previous nine things on this list. FAIL
I wrote those resolutions as kind of a joke, but I didn't do very well and I am kind of disappointed despite number 10. That's kind of sad. Nobody likes to fail.
Okay, on to this year's resolutions. No jokes this time. I'm holding myself accountable to myself this year.
1. Lose weight. I know, that's so lame and so overly-resoluted, but I need to lose some weight. Specifically 26 pounds. I feel achy and old and although I actually kind of like my soft, marshmallow-like midsection, I really really HATE being startled by seeing my fat face that is starting to disappear into my neck when I glance into a mirror. If I had a nice neck-line I could be 400 pounds and I wouldn't really care. I'm just vain enough so that matters to me.
2. I'm going to try to work out 350 times this year. That's at least a half hour almost every single day of the year. I'm going to count any work-out over 75 minutes as two work-outs. I just came up with this off the top of my head, so I am not very confident about how this will turn out. I actually like exercising after I get past the muscle-soreness phase. But I really really hate the muscle-soreness phase.
3. I'm going to try to stop picking at my split ends. I get a little obsessed with split ends and feel compelled to pull the splitters out of my head because I see them as being subversive to the rest of the hairs which are really trying to be thick and healthy and beautiful, which is crazy. It's going to be hard, but my hair will look better for it.
4. I'm going to save 10% of all of our income into our IRA account.
5. I'm going to travel somewhere cool. My dad and I are talking about going to Easter Island, and I would like to take my kids to Washington DC when the cherry trees blossom. If I do either one I will count this resolution as a win.
I think that is enough. I'm starting the diet in earnest on Monday because we have to eat up the holiday leftovers (remember, I'm practical) but on Monday morning, all leftovers go in the trash and the food journal begins!
What are you doing for resolutions? Anyone want to be diet-support partners?
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