Me: Lately, I just feel like everyone’s least favorite bitch.
Ma Smash: Oh, honey! You know you’re my most favorite bitch in the WHOLE WORLD!
Oddly, that made me feel much better.
Archive | January, 2010
Unconditional Love
27 JanQuotes From a Dead Blog
26 JanEvery so often, the internet graveyard throws up a blog that is both hilarious and no longer updated. Things My Boyfriend Says is one of those.
The good news for you, if you haven’t read it, is that you have a treat in store for you. The bad news for all of us is that it’s a limited treat. Think of it like falling in love with a British TV show. You know, at most, you’ll probably only get another 6-episode “series.”
Here are a few select quotes:
While snuggling:
me: Who loves you?
e: Megatron.
me: It’s my birthday soon. You’d better get me something pretty.
e: I’ll get ME something pretty, and you can play with it.
On learning that we were out of toilet paper:
“How long until we start using the placemats and pillowcases and crawling along the carpet like dogs with worms?”
There’s more! You should read it.
Apparently, We Are Now a Lesbian Couple
25 JanMe: Are those my pants?
Sgt. Lucky: Are they? I couldn’t figure out when I bought them.
Me: They totally are! OMG, you’re wearing girl pants.
Sgt. Lucky: Actually, I think you were wearing boy pants. Wait – are those my pants?
Me: (Looks down guiltily.) What, these? Yes. Yes, they are.
First Missed Day
21 JanArgggh, I missed blogging yesterday. Which means the grand experiment – for reals – lasted, um 20 days.
That’s not bad, when you consider that I probably blogged 20 times during the previous six months, so I’m going to try to take it in stride and keep going. It is, as we say in teh yogas, the intention, not the perfection.
I have excuses, which I will now give you. For one thing, I’m planning a wedding, which is about as entertaining to hear about as a play-by-play of another person’s dreams. However, it’s quite complicated, it turns out.
I’ll tell you this: you start out thinking you want to invite everyone you know, plus a date, and then wind up thinking people will have to bring flasks and meet you in an alley behind city hall.
So that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
B. A-N-A-N-A-S.
19 JanSgt. Lucky: I have a twitch in my eye. I had one in my leg earlier.
Me: You probably need potassium. Eat a banana.
Sgt. Lucky: I don’t WANT a banana.
Me: Bananas are good for you.
Sgt. Lucky: You’re obsessed with bananas. You can’t get me to eat them. I won’t do it!
Me: Wait. Since when don’t you like bananas?
Sgt. Lucky: Since you tried to FORCE me to EAT them.
Me: (Laughing.) When was that?
Sgt. Lucky: All the time! IT’S ALL YOU EVER TALK ABOUT ANYMORE.
Me: …
Sgt. Lucky: (Nearly giggling now, although in a very manly fashion.) I beg you, I plead. “Please,” I say. “Any other topic of conversation. Anything but bananas.” But no.
Me: ….
Sgt. Lucky: I tell you that I love you! I whisper endearments! I tell you that you’re the only one for me! And what do I get in return? Bananas. Well, I don’t want any.
I obviously have no choice but to start smuggling them into his lunch.
Taking Advantage of the Fifteen Seconds…
18 Jan…during which my internet is working today to update. There are definitely trolls living in our router. Either that or my computer is now officially too old to connect to the series of the tubes.
Why You Need to Read Sleep Talkin’ Man
17 JanBecause it is a brilliant blog about a guy who talks in his sleep, and says things like this [excerpted from the Jan 11 post]:
“Your mum’s at the door again. Bury me. Bury me deep.”
“Yeah, keep looking. It doesn’t get any better than this.”
“Shhhhhhhhh. shhhhhhhhh. I’m telling you: your voice, my ears. A bad combination.”
“You’re pretty. pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty…. [long pause] Now fuck off and be pretty somewhere else. I’m bored.”
You really need to read the rest.
Baby Shower = Drinks in the Morning
16 JanYou might not agree with that equation, but I submit to you that you would, if you had been at the one I was just at. Or not just at. At a few hours ago. Obviously, my ability to speak English has not yet returned.
I’m pretty sure I had a pitcher of mimosas. I had to help. The mom-to-be obviously couldn’t. Duh.
It Is the Long Weekend
15 JanAnd posting will still commence, because I love you. However, in case you’re wondering what my plans are, they are as follows:
1) Sleep
2) Yoga
3) Drink (mimosas, and possibly other wine-based beverages)
4) Eat (eggs and other breakfast-oriented meals)
5) Nothing of any socially-redeeming value
My to-do list is even to-done. It’s a miracle!
Why I Don’t Do Meetings
14 JanVia Jezebel:
“Dieters in Sweden got a nasty scare during a weighing in at a Weight Watchers clinic when the floor collapsed underneath them. The 20 participants had gathered to measure the amount of weight they had lost when employees heard a loud thud and saw part of the room give way. Fortunately, on one was injured and they finished weighing everyone in a nearby room.”
I have said it before and I’ll say it again, I do not “do” weight-loss clubs. I did [international dieting organization redacted] for awhile, and I didn’t have a good experience. The lady who ran our group was very nosy and judgmental. She did not, for example, believe that it was possible for someone (say, me) to gain 3-5 pounds every month right before ol’ Aunt Flo came to visit.
Pictured: Me with my banjo.
Recently, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, which, if you’re not familiar with it, is pretty much the worst. I gained 30 pounds in the course of a year, even while going to the gym and eating 1200 calories a day. It was like Thinner, in reverse.
Now I’m all medicated and shit, and I’m not gaining anymore, but I still have to lose all this weight, preferably before I, ha ha, GET MARRIED. So weight loss has been on my mind, as you can imagine.
Ma Smash, however, is a big fan of the meeting-based weight-loss plan and in a recent phone conversation, she made her case.
Ma Smash: Why don’t you try [same organization, redacted.]
Me: Because I fucking hate them, that’s why.
Ma Smash: It works, though.
Me: It might work, but they’re all bad people who smell. They looked at my weight and judged me.
Ma Smash: Oh my God, they did NOT.
Me: They did, too. They judged me, and they didn’t believe me, and I hate them, and so does God.
Ma Smash: Well, I think maybe you just had one bad experience with that particular group.
Me: I’m never going to another group.
Ma Smash: OK.
Me: If I went back, I would punch them.
Ma Smash: Oh, no! Surely not. You wouldn’t.
Me: I would. I would punch them, so hard, and right in the fucking neck.
Ma Smash: The fucking neck! No! You would never.
Me: Right in the fucking neck, Mum. AND THEN WE’D SEE WHO HAS THE THYROID PROBLEM.
What I like about myself most as I get older is how much calmer and more centered I am.
Photo via eBaum’s World.
