I Hab a Colb

I have a cold. I think. My ears are hurting, like they are going to burst. I'm all snotty and sneezy. Achy and breaky. I'm two dwarfs shy of finding Snow White. I start back to school today. I am really very excited about this, but you can't tell 'cause I'm so snotty. Also? I took a dose of day cold meds this morning, and forgot to bring them with me because they lose their magic after 4 hours. That'll be right around the time I leave for school. This is wonderful because I'm sure I'll infect like at least half the class. They'll all be thanking me next week. I'm sure of it. I may be running a fever. This can't be good. Someone send in reinforcements please!

A Very Good Point!

After reading my good friend Steph's blog this morning, I realized that: 1.) she makes an EXCELLENT point, and 2.) I have been holding back about this for WAAAAY too long. So, here I go, on my cute little pink soap box:

If you use a public restroom please, PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, wipe up your own piss after you squat to pee in the toilet!! I am so sick and tired of cleaning up after grown-ass women who are so freakin' afraid that they'll catch some deadly disease from a God-forsaken toilet seat! After you pee ALL OVER THE SEAT do you really think its sanitary for SOMEONE ELSE, A STRANGER, to risk touching your BODILY FLUIDS?? It's not like they hand out rubber gloves in the john. If you are a seat-wetter, why can you not adapt and do what normal people would do? Either grab one of those fancy seat covers that are on the wall, or if none are available, do what I do: Toilet paper the hell out of the seat. Every single time I have to wipe up after you sprinkle queens, I get a little more disgusted. Nine times out of ten, I have to wait to use the potty. It is a women's bathroom, afterall. We require more time to do our duty. Take the extra 3.7 seconds to CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS. I read an article the other day that simply stated that all you hover-ers are more likely to get a urinary tract or bladder infection because when you hover you are not completely emptying your bladders. Serves you right! While you are trying to avoid contact with the toilet seat of death, you are making your ownself more suseptible to infection and practically sky-rocketing the chances of someone else catching an infectin FROM YOU.

You know that sign that I'm sure all of your grandma's have hanging in their bathrooms? "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie"? This rule also applies in public locations. I swanee, the next time I go into a packed public restroom to use the facilities and some great hovering woman has pissed all over the seat, I am going to embarass the crap out of her! SHE should have to clean up HER mess. Not me. It'll probably go a little something like this: "(tap her on the shoulder) I'm sorry, but when I came into the restroom I wasn't given a pair of rubber gloves." (she will be thoroughly confused, think the "wtf" variety, and probably say "And??" or "So?") that's when I'll say, "So, if you don't mind, I really don't want to clean up YOUR piss before I sit on the toilet!" I think that ending could go one of two ways, don't you?

Makes a girl feel down right good about herself!

Today I decided to treat myself to the best. lunch. evah! at Panera Bread. And I swear from the parking lot to the door I got all kinds of stares. From men in suits to little teenage kids. My first thought was: "Oh no! I didn't get all the sugar off that powdered donut off me!" My second thought was: "Oh no! I forgot to zip my fly {AGAIN}! (I do this alot!)! I willed myself not to think about what was all over my face or not zipped until I got back to the car. I checked myself out in the sun's reflection and realized that I had NOTHING on my face and my fly was TOTALLY zipped. I didn't have anything in my teeth and I didn't sit in poo. So my only conclusion is: I must be LOOKIN' GOOD today!

Also? I have come to the conclusion that, since I gained about 40 lbs. since marriage, even if I gain 40 MORE pounds {oh dear God forbid upon everything so sacred and holy}, my ass will always look FABULOUS. Thank you clothing Gods for Express Jeans and American Eagle; for you ALWAYS make my [fat] ass look bootylicious.

Friday's Pick

This Friday's pick is "I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell," by Tucker Max. What can I say? This book was the funniest thing I've read in a long time. I was literally crying from laughing so hard. This guy is a complete asshole, a belligerent drunk and a womanizer. But most of all, he's too damn funny! His short stories are almost unbelievable. He says they are all true, and even though some are slightly doubtful, after reading the rest you can almost be sure he can't make this stuff up. Tucker got his undergrad at the University of Chicago and then went to Duke Law School for his J.D. When asked why he is a writer, not a lawyer, he responds that he doesn't hate his life enough to be an attorney. Along with Tucker are some friends: PWJ, El Bingeroso, SlingBlade, Hate, Credit and many more. This guy has been characterized as a cult icon. His book is the male form of chick lit. I highly recommend going out and buying this book. You won't be disappointed.

This from the introduction:

My name is Tucker Max, and I am an asshole. I get excessively drunk at inappropriate times, disregard social norms, indulge every whim, ignore the consequences of my actions, mock idiots and posers, sleep with more women than is safe or reasonable, and just generally act like a raging dickhead. But, I do contribute to humanity in one very important way: I share my adventures with the world.

* Go on and read it. You know you want to.

How to manage turning over new leaves

"Practice makes perfect. Be careful what you practice." -- Venita from Cupcake Brown's book, "A Piece of Cake: A Memoir."


I am 25. A quarter of a century old. And yet, I can't make it to work on time (or anywhere near on-time some days), I blow things off, I sit and am lazy, I get in "funks" far more often, I let the laundry pile up, I don't pride myself in the things I used to, I don't eat meals regularly, I say I'm gonna quit something I should and don't, I say I'm gonna start doing something and don't. I am 25. I think it's about time I get my life together. Don't you?

Here are a few things I want to accomplish:
*Getting to bed before midnight. I stay up late reading EVERY night.
*Having a set schedule. I am a notorious procrastinator.
*Getting to work ON TIME. EVERYDAY. I really, really need to work on this one.
*Set aside certain days and times to do certain things around the house. That way I won't feel overwhelmed.
*Keep ALL promises, regardless of ANYTHING. I'm not a habitual liar or anything, but sometimes I blow things off due to moods, lack of interest, or laziness.
*Eat 3 meals a day. NO JUNK! Cookies for breakfast is not breakfast!
*Stop smoking. I know I will before we have a kid, but the weezing is just not attractive.
*Start taking walks. With or without the dog. With or without Ma Dukes.
*Be my own cheerleader. If I don't, who else will?
*Stop biting my nails. This one will be very hard!
*Work on some minor communication issues in my marriage.
*Learn to RELAX. And do it often.
*Don't sweat the small stuff.
*Be a better time manager.
*Get a better handle on my finances.
*I used to LOVE to cook. Refind that love and cook gloriously.
*Get out of my comfort zone.
*Try new things.
*Don't alienate the people that love me in my life. Depression will not get the best of me. I need people.
*Know that it's okay to cry sometimes, if for no reason at all. We all need a good cry every now and then.
*Don't nag the Hubbs so much. I know he's had a long day too, and I know he doesn't want to come home to that crap. (this one may be slightly hard. i have certain husband expectations. I swear if that trash is not out of my garage by the weekend, I'm gonna blow my top!)


Wow, this list is long! But, just like Weight Watchers makes you accountable for what you eat, I need to make myself accountable for my life. Yesterday? I only ate lunch. I had Pizza Hut take out. For dinner? I had a handful of popcorn and some chocolate ice cream. Very Nutritious! Also? I've been coming in to work at around 9:30am. I'm supposed to be here at 8. No wonder my paycheck isn't what I think it should be. Look at the time I'm missing! I've been getting a little (read: ALOT) out of hand lately. I'm not a morning person AT.ALL. I have no clue how to transform myself into one. I don't drink coffee. I'm always in a rush everywhere I go. I'm not sleeping well at night, nor am I getting enough sleep. I still have no energy (and I just realized that with all the non-carbs I'm eating, this maybe why). As much Mt. Dew as I've been drinking, I don't know why I don't just insert an IV, as it would be easier. I've just been down in the dumps lately. BLah. So, I'm going to try (keyword) to be the best ME I can be. School is about to start back and I need to gear up for that.

Starting tonight, I am going home to cook dinner. I will fold up the 3 day old clothes still in the dryer. I will wash one more load of clothes, lest I go pantless to work tomorrow. I will go to my parents house (they just got back from vacation with goodies!). I will only allow myself to read until 9:30. Then I will go to bed. I will try not to nag. I will try to be happy and cheerful. I have had 2 cookies (that are kinda stale) for breakfast, but I will go get a healthy lunch. I will make muffins for breakfast tomorrow. I will plan next weeks meals and chore schedule. I will sit down and review our budget. I will turn the dirt over in my flowerbed so that I can plant. I will wash my car. I will wipe the walls down in the house, so when we go get paint, we don't have to do it. I will vaccuum out my car. I will put the Christmas decorations up, instead of leaving them in the middle of the garage. I will clean out the fridge and stop buying stuff at the grocery store that I know we won't eat (or eat in a timely fashion). I will pick a paint color for the guest bathroom. I will spend more time when I get home trying to engage my husband in conversation (he gets home and doesn't move from the T.V.; I get home and don't move from my book. see the problem?) I will be less or not at all judgemental (this one is going to be really hard too. I'm not a bad person; I'm just opinionated.) I will be more encouraging of myself AND of others. I will vow less to lose weight, and vow more to be healthier.

That list is a little long too! I will absolutely try, put my heart and soul, no more excuses, today! I will go get a healthy, non-burger and fries lunch. I will also try to figure out what this smell on my shirt is. I know it's clean, but when I opened our closet this morning, something smelled a little off. When I get home, I'm going to do some investigating! Wish me luck!


"Making mistakes simply means you are learning faster." - Weston H. Agor

I'm back!

I am back from vacation. And guess what?? It was TOTALLY AWESOME! I just hope I don't have to wait another 6 years until I get another one. Hubbs, D, and B went to Emerald Isle. It was fantastic! I was spectacular! I was really freakin' hot! We went to the beach, laid out, got tan, and walked five hundred miles in the process. Hubbs' grandparents own a beach house so we got to stay fo' free fo' the week. Which in and of itself is just by gawd fabulous! We took Pookie and even he had a blast. Honestly, the pup has only been swimming once and when we took him to the sound for a bit of splashing around, he was a riot.



We played putt-putt twice, and I'm proud to say that my husband the "Putt-Putt Prodigy" won both times. D joked that he had the home court advantage. I mean, honestly? The kid never loses. It's almost sickening to watch him putt so effortlessly. I, on the other hand, am skilled at the short shots. The long (and by long I mean from the start of the tee off spot to the hole) distances, not so much. Also? I got a hole in one ONCE! So eat that!



The highlight of our week in paradise was renting jet skis for D's birthday. It's like riding a 4-wheeler with no wheels. It's alot lower to the water than I expected and I'm not exaggerating when I say that I thoroughly freaked out when we got on them. I actually begged the dock guy to promptly swim in and save me if it even looked like I was gonna drown. Me and water? Are not friends. I swim like a rock. Sure, I can keep myself afloat and do a retarded doggy paddle, but that's it. In a nutshell, I could possibly keep myself from drowning, but I don't want to risk it. Lucky for me, Hubbs was driving and kept looking back at me to make sure I hadn't passed out and fell off the back of the thing. We rented them for an hour and after the first 30 minutes I started to relax and enjoy myself. It was great fun.



We went to the end of the island one day, where the ocean and sound meet, and discovered a sort of moat oasis in the sand. Houses line this stretch of water and there were sand bags practically holding up their porches and decks. Right where the sand bags began was a stretch of water on the sand, like a lazy river. I'm not a fan of the ocean. I'll get out there and get wet, but I'm like SO scared of being pulled under. Note my lack of swimming skills. But when we found this little treasure I was in heaven. It was shallow and also deep, so Hubbs and I swam the length of it a couple of times. We stayed out there for almost 5 hours! It was awesome!



Along with my lack of swimming skills, I possess impatience for laying out. I get bored really easy. I hate, hate, hate being out there in the hot sun and I fear the ocean, so I usually bring a book to read. That in turn, gets me picked on. Fat girls don't like to sweat. And? This fat girl is not going to drown if she can help it. So my beach/sun was limited to about 3 hour incriments until we found our sand oasis. Also? I have no stamina in the heat.



We got up early one morning and went back to the end of the island to collect shells before the day's beach-goers could snatch them up. I found 3/4 of a sand dollar and lots of pieces of sand dollars. And wouldn't you know it, Hubbs found the prettiest shells. The sad part was, the sand oasis had been mostly washed away with the tide. Sigh. Maybe next year when we take vacation it will be back.



Oh yeah! One of the funniest, best and proudest parts of our vacation was..... That I actually bought and wore a bikini. Yep. This fat girl broke down and felt good enough about herself to actually parade half-naked in public. Was my big ol' buddah belly hangin' out? YES. Were my stretch marks showing? Yes. Did Hubbs like my water outfit? Yes. Did I finally feel good enough to wear one for the first time in almost 4 years? YES! However, I would like to issue an apology to the beach-goers! HAHAHA! The best part was seeing women bigger than myself in bikini's too! You GO GIRLS! I say to hell with it. I was on vacation. I've got the tan lines to prove it!

How about some encouragement

This is the story of a woman who has everything and was dealt a blow of defeat. This woman is my mother. My mama is a practical woman. She has built a life with my Padre. They had one kid (Me!), have a nice house, nice cars, and one spoiled ass dog (Mickey). She and my Padre were married when he was 20 and she was 19. One year and one month later, yours truly was born. They never had a honeymoon save for the take out pizza and popcorn after the wedding, then it was back to work at their third shift jobs at the local cotton mill. So last year, for their 25th wedding anniversary, my Padre took her to Disney World. To say that my mama loves Mickey Mouse is a gross understatement. She shed tears when she was told she would get to meet him privately, and she shed some more when it was time to come back home. My Padre made a promise to her when they were married: I will give you everything you've ever wanted. She says he's made good on his promise. When she looks back through her pictures of that wonderful week in Florida, she'll run to him in the living room. He'll be sitting in his recliner that is slightly lopsided and worn from so much use, but not enough to throw it out and get a new one, and she'll wrap her arms around him and cry. She'll tell him how much she loves him and thank him profusely for taking her to the happiest place on earth. She'll joke about moving there to be a follower of the Mouse. He'll joke about seeing her once a year while he's on vacation. She loves him, and he loves her, and I love them both. She deserves nothing but the best. After all, she's had to put up with him for 26 years, and me for 25. She definitely deserves a medal. Or at least a purple heart. She's one of the smartest and kindest people I know.

That's why it's a little unnerving that she can't get the job she wants. She's been faithful to her company for 8 years. She makes less money than those who just started a year ago. She hasn't had a raise in 4 years. Her boss just built a new million dollar building for his business and would rather pay them overtime than give them a raise. My mother has not been happy in her job. She has helped a friend from a previous job, obtain a job with her. That friend stabbed her in the back. She goes to work everyday and does her job to the best of her abilities, which after eight years are alot. She minds her own business, makes a few friends, and gets demeaned by her boss. She's unhappy, so she looks for other employment. She applies to endless other companies and never hears a word. She hurts her hip (I forget how) and when she gives her boss her doctor's note, he calls her doctor an idiot. He says, "There is nothing wrong with you." She still goes to work and does her job to the best of her ability. She is faithful to her company. Last year after her vacation, she applies to numerous other companies and vows, "The first offer I get, I'm gone." She never hears a word about her resume or applications.

About a month ago, my mother was taken to the hospital by my Padre. Around 5:30 in the morning, my mother thought she was having a heart attack. I went to see her in the hospital. She looked so beaten down, so fragile. I was afraid to touch her. She looked so weak, so defeated. The cardiologist came in and spoke with all three of us. She would have a nuclear stress test to determine how strong her heart was, but he didn't see any signs of a heart attack. After he left, and it was just the three of us, I held my mother's hand. She started crying and said, "My job is going to end up killing me." The company that she had stayed faithful to, because she loved the work, was trying to break her down. They didn't care that she came in at 7 am every morning and busted her ass to make sure her job was done and done correctly. Nor did they care that she never made waves and always did as she was told. They were trying to break her spirit. Then they could hire some hispanic lady who speaks very little English for a fraction of what they were paying her, to do her job. Her company does not care about their employees. When my Padre and I called her company to relay that she would not be in to work for the next few days, they didn't even respond. When she returned back to work, they didn't even care. This is not a big company. They probably have about 25 employees.

I could tell that my mother, who once was full of energy and fiesty, was now in a funk. She was cranky and didn't care to do almost anything. When my mother left the hospital she was placed on a small dose of Zoloft. Her tests came back as stress related. The cardiologist felt she was a little depressed. When she came home from her short stay in the hospital she cried because he had placed her on an anti-depressant. Depression runs in our family, but is not talked about. So does anxiety. I have both. My mother felt defeated. Her regular doctor placed her on another ant-depressant, Welbutrin. I have been prescribed this before. I try to console my mother that it's okay to have some help (the Welbutrin) once in a while until you don't need it anymore. I am currently not on anything(although I feel I need to be). I try to be her words of encouragement. She just found out that her sister is on an anti-depressant, and although it doesn't instantly relieve her apprehension, it helps. My mother comes home from work and cries. She looks like she's unsure of herself now. She isn't fiesty. My mother has suffered a blow.

When she came home from the hospital, I whipped out her resume and combed the internet for jobs that she was qualified for. I sent out resumes and applications. I searched everyday. I still search. We search the newspaper together. We talk a couple of times a week and she asks me everytime if I've heard anything from any prospects. It breaks my heart when I have to tell her no. We believe that her company, the one she has worked so hard for for the last 8 years, is sabotaging her efforts to better herself. She hasn't had a raise in 4 years. She has no benefits. She works her fingers to the bone and is never rewarded. Not even a simple "Thank you for all you do." She works for a company who does not care. And now they are nixing her efforts at every corner to escape. She needs a morale boost and they will not give it to her. My mother's job will end up killing her. It will sap her of happiness. And it is truly a shame.