7 Days of Positive Thoughts – Day 7

Gah!  I totally meant to do this last night.  I seriously sat down at my computer at one point with this in mind.  I fail.



Day 7 Positive Thought:  A big Sunday breakfast is good for all kinds of things.


I love a big breakfast on Sundays.  I love it because it feels ceremonial.  I love it because it reminds me of my grandfather – who loved a big breakfast every other day of the week too.  I love it because it’s delicious.  I love it because it makes the rest of my day full of possibility.  I love it because it gives me energy for the rest of the day.  I love it because it allows me the chance to try something new.  I love it because I made it.


This concludes the 7 days of positive thoughts (on my blog).  Keep having ’em otherwise!



7 Days of Positive Thoughts – Day 6

Almost nearing the end of the 7 days!


Day 6 Positive Thought:  When people band together towards a goal, they can do amazing things.


Today, I participated in one of the Out of the Darkness walks that are put on by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.  It is a sobering event to participate in because, as you stand in a crowd of hundreds of people, you realize that most everyone there has lost someone to suicide.

The fact that there were hundreds of people is sad.  At the same time, it is encouraging to see so many people support a cause that is often surrounded by awkwardness and overtones of shame (though it should not be).  By banding together, everyone at the walk I went to raised close to $50,000.  That is money that will go toward raising awareness and providing resources for people at risk.  It is incredible that shared tragedies can spur this much action.  That is really the beauty of the human spirit, isn’t it?


So, the Day 6 post is going to contain a bonus.  I am also going to list some things from my day that reminded me life is worth living:

  • People singing openly in a crowd, albeit potentially embarrassing, is an act of pure joy.
  • Running is starting to be fun.  Especially when running away from the joyous singers.
  • I love my running pants.  I never want to take them off.
  • Fair food is awesome.
  • Fair food is awesome. (so nice I said it twice)
  • Animals are cute.  Baby animals are off the charts cute.
  • Watching little kids watch animals reminds you of what it’s like to just live in a constant state of wonder.
  • Napping with my cats is the best thing ever.


No one is chasing me and nothing is on fire.

I started doing the Couch to 5K program a few weeks ago.  The basic idea is that you gradually go from no running to being able to run a 5K.  It’s an interval training program and I think it’s brilliant.

But I still hate running.  I have not learned to love it.  Yet.

I asked a friend who runs how long it will take before I have that “addiction” that runners have.  She said she did not want to tell me because she did not want to discourage me.  So, I am just going to assume it takes six years.  GAAAAAAAHHHH.


Fortunately for me, I have someone to run with.  This is very motivating.

This is exactly what I said to my running partner this morning:

I am glad I have you to run with, because, if I didn’t, I would not have gotten up this morning.  Furthermore, every time I ask you to run, I really don’t want to.  Every time you ask me to run, I really don’t want to.  And every time you ask if we’re still on for our next running date, I want to say no.  But I do it anyway.


But, no worries.  I am still running.  And it still sucks.


O Chocolat (or…why I am no longer allowed to eat Lindt balls)

Last week, I went to Kittery, ME with a friend.  I mainly wanted to go to Crate & Barrel.  And I wanted to go there for, of all things, dish towels and pet food bowls.

I know, right?  It’s amazing what being bored will spur you to do.


We made a stop at the Lindt chocolate store. (YUMMY.)

I was restrained. I picked out a few single pieces and paid for them.  While I waited for my friend to make her purchase, I thought…and then said out loud, “hey, mine are paid for, which means I can eat one RIGHT NOW”.  So, I did.

Remember Augustus Gloop in the original movie when his mother is all “slow down Augustus!”?  That may or may not have been me.


And as is frequently the case when you have a piece of chocolate with a hard shell (and a yummy creamy center…creeeeeeamy……..) bits of the shell flew off when I bit into it.  And as is frequently the case when you have a large rack, a piece of chocolate landed between my boobs.

I am accustomed to this and basically have no shame, so I fished it out and flicked it on the floor.  I had a tank top on under another shirt so I tried to look down my shirt for any other stray pieces without looking too sleazy.  (Mission accomplished!  I think.  The guy shopping in the store may have thought otherwise.)


After a little bit we went to a seafood place for dinner.  I hit the ladies room (had to pee, my friends!).  And when I lifted up my tank top to button my pants after I was done, there was a big brown smear on my belly.  A LARGE BROWN SMEAR ACROSS MY BELLY.

I kid you not…I swear on my life…as God is my witness…THIS is how the next .05 seconds went inside my head (bear in mind that thoughts are heavily influenced by situation and MY situation was a stall and a toilet):

“How did I get poop on my belly?????….Wait, I didn’t poop…..I KNEW more chocolate fell down my tank top!!!”


Once I figured out what really happened, I had to scrape it off (twas in a stall, remember?).  But, really?  POOP??  What.  The.  Hell.


Believe me when I say there is no sight more sad than a middle aged woman in a bathroom stall at Weathervane scraping chocolate that had melted (and then dried) off her belly.

Well, maybe one that’s more sad –   that same woman sitting down to tell the world about how she at first thought it was poop.


How I almost choked a bitch at the grocery store.

No, no.  The title of this post is an exaggeration.  I did not almost choke a bitch.  I DID almost take my cart and ram it into this lady at 60 miles an hour while screaming “SHUT UP BITCH”.


I was near the dairy section and happened to appear on the scene just as a man and woman were perusing the juice selection.  And the woman said, “I don’t get it.  They don’t have any juices not made from concentrate.  I mean…if I was looking to get diabetes, maybe I’d get them, but…”


First of all, what a weird way to put it.  “I don’t want any sugar”, “I don’t want that much sugar”, or “Too much sugar is bad for you” – all reasonable explanations for not wanting juice made from concentrate.  But “I don’t want to drink this juice because I might get diabetes”?  Lil over the top, ma’am.


Then she started to walk away (or so I thought), grousing something, and then telling her male companion, “well, you know me”.  And she said it in that infuriating way that implies that what she is doing is indicative of how discerning her tastes are, when really she is being a giant pain in everyone’s asses.

“Well, you know me.  I like to knock school children out of the way with my car.  It’s who I am.”


I walked on because I was already annoyed with pretty much everyone in this whole grocery store…nay, all people in all grocery stores everywhere.  Let me get the fuck out of this place, please.

I went down another couple of aisles and, as I circled back, I ended up on the other end of an aisle near the juices and THAT DAMN WOMAN WAS STILL THERE.


Only now she had caught the ear of other shoppers, because, as she circled the juice area like a fucking shark (a no-sugar-added-please shark), I heard her say, “I mean, how can they call it juice if it’s just sugar and water?”

I really expected her to follow this up with, “Am I right?  Am I right?” as if she was participating in the world’s worst grocery store standup routine.


I have no idea how long she ended up spouting her gospel of juice.  All I know is she made me want to drink juice made from concentrate and follow it with a sugar chaser.



just checkin’

just checkin

maybe why people don't text me that much?

Things I Learned This Past Weekend Camping

  1. In a campground, one small child can be heard for miles.
  2. Plastic bags are not an appropriate resolution to noise pollution (see #1 above).
  3. “moose knuckle”
  4. Martinis are delicious. (fair nuff…already knew that one)
  5. When signs tell you the hike is 3 miles, it is really 47.  I mean, 470.
  6. Most people ignore danger signs.  (So, why haven’t we weeded out all the idiots yet?)
  7. Don’t save time by buying pre-packaged mango spears – unless you really like eating cement-like blocks of fruit.
  8. The only thing funnier than the oddly named incense “wet panties” is accidentally calling it another p-word.
  9. Swearing is an art form.
  10. Camping is the most fun ever. (ok, knew that one too, but still…)

Here I am in all my suckiness…

I stole that blog title from my friend Amanda.  It was her declaration of pride at utterly and miserably failing at something.

It’s sort of like saying, “Look at how bad I am at this!  I revel in it.  Join me in the revelry of my failure.”

I used to say something similar when smacked in the face with my bad choices in relationships: “I am basking in my dysfunction.”


I just posted the following on google+:

I made orzo. Which was not bad, but called for white wine (which I just ran out of) and so I substituted diluted vinegar (like they tell you to do all over the internets) but it was still very tart with the vinegar, but it was nothing that some salt and more parmesan cheese wouldn’t cure, and…who needs low blood pressure anyway?


That just goes to show that there is no failure some salt and cheese can’t cure.


And when you make a joke online that no one gets, just laugh to yourself and know that you are reveling in your suckiness.  Stand proud.


oh, sriracha…why ya gotta be like that? (aka foods that hurt me)

A partial list of foods that hurt my body somehow:

Corn (we all know why)

Iceburg lettuce (the worst of the lettuces…evidently, due to its high water content, it decomposes in your digestive system…and then…it acts like corn)

Raw onions and peppers (only raw – give me headaches….what is the ingredient that somehow disappears when they are cooked??)

Spicy things (sriracha, stop burning my body from the inside out!)

Newcastle beer (I don’t even like this beer, but I found out several years ago that something in it does not agree with me – and must exit my body RIGHT AWAY)

Dairy products (I am lactose intolerant, and yet that does not stop me from consuming milk, ice cream, cheese, and… basically anything squeezed out of a cow’s udder)

Raisins (for those who know me, this is purely psychological – they FUCK WITH MY MIND!)



Post a comment about a food that hurts you.

liar, liar, pants on fire

I have a cat (his name is Don Vito).  He is made of gold.  Not really, but he might as well be because he’s had 4 surgeries over the last several years and I am still paying that shit off.  So, if Vito is reading this…..  YOU HAD BETTER LIVE FOREVER.

On top of that, I have to feed him special food for the rest of his life.  Which means his problem-free brother Santino also gets special food for the rest of his life.  I get this food from my vets office.  Which means it costs a kajillion dollars.

Which is why this story really pisses me off…


My vet’s office totally lied to me yesterday. I called to tell them I was going to pick up some food. You know, Vito’s PRESCRIPTION food. And the girl who answered said this (word for word):

“We’ll sell you a bag today. But going forward…and I am so sorry…this is NOT us….this is what the food manufacturer is asking…you will need to bring your cat in for an annual exam to get the food.”

I asked her the name of the food manufacturer (Royal Canin), thanked her, and hung up. Then, I promptly called Royal Canin myself and asked them if this was true.




Of course, Royal Canin was like, “uh…no…we don’t even directly distribute to vets. They can sell the food to whoever they want – that’s their call.”

Called my vets office. Got the same girl. I said, “Hey, remember how you said that Royal Canin told you I can’t buy food until I come in with my cat? I called them and that’s not true.”

So, then she starts giving me the whole “well, it is PRESCRIPTION food” crap. And I was like, “I get that. But let’s be real clear – this is YOUR policy, not the food manufacturer’s policy.”




I also got this ridiculous “well, in order for the vet to RENEW the prescription, you have to come in”. And I’m all, “I had no idea those prescriptions EXPIRED”. (Which I doubt they do, because I have not been there in 4 years yet Vito still gets that food.)

So, I got a bag but the next time I want one, I’ll have to bring Vito in. I told them that it was ridiculous for me to have to bring in a cat who never leaves the house and spend money to get all this crap done. She was all, “the exam is only $42”. So, she said they could sign something that says that is all it will cost me. So, I might do it.

But I am still mad they lied.