Sugar Sugar

There isn't one thing I ate today that wasn't loaded with sugar--and fat. A slice of lemon cake, 4 chocolate macadamia nut truffles, imported from Hawaii (for your information), 2 Dr. Peppers, a handful of Japanese candy, and 3 Oreos. And I hate Oreos.

Tonight I hollered at my homies to "quit eating all that junk" while simultaneously pouring a box of Nerds into my wide-open jaws. What's wrong with me?

P.S. I just remembered that I did eat some edamame, so I guess I've been redeemed.

P.P.S. Mi Amor thought it was funny to take this picture of me when my glasses were broken, due to someone else's carelessness (names will go unmentioned), and I was suffering from a lengthy bout with pink eye. Can you believe how vile I look? Looks like the only friend I had in this situation was the Dr. Pepper nuzzled so comfortably in my hand.

Growing Hair While Waiting for a Ride

Two of my homies have missed the bus for the last three days in a row. On the first day I said, "Tomorrow, we'll be better. We'll lay out our clothes and pack our lunches the night before." My homies agreed to do these things; and they did.

But the next day, due to my hanging out at the shaving sink with mi Amor, blabbering on and on to him about nothing (something about the ingredients found in belly lint), I let time slip by until, again, it was too late to catch the bus. That day I committed to zipping my lips, no matter how the next day's shave would beckon me to ask mi Amor how he felt about the founders of the Bumpits company. (Do you own one? Huh? Do you?)

So the next day is today, and we missed the bus again. Again! Can you even fathom this situation? We have no excuse. None. As I sat in the car this morning debating whether or not I could make the eight minute drive to the bus stop in three minutes, I turned to my homies and said, "No one cares about making the bus, especially you two. So I guess you won't care if you have to sit here for the next twenty minutes so you can think up a solution to this problem. They said, "Fine. We'll sit here and think about it."

Twenty-plus minutes went by, and I really thought that after finishing my shower I'd find the two of them crouched in the pantry, eating chocolate covered pretzels.

"Boys!" I called out, while closing the shower door. But there was no answer. "They're still in the car!" I thought to myself. "They're taking our time management, bus-missing problem seriously!" Just as I finished assuming the very best case scenario, my littlest homie ran into the bathroom and said, "You've left us out in the car so long that I grew this mustache while you were gone. What do you think? Huh? Do I look like a gorgeous babe?"

I said, "I think I give up!" And then I took a closer look at his manly stache, and together, like two carefree hyenas, we laughed and laughed.

I'm so glad we missed today's bus.

P.S. The car was parked in the cool, shady garage.

P.P.S If you're curious about the ingredients found in belly lint, click here.

Raise Your Hand If You Need a Tan!

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Somebody buy this chica some self-tanner. Madre?

I've been blinded by the light.

April Fool's Day

Most every year (when I'm thinking straight), I play a little April Fool's Day joke on my homies. This morning on our way home from the gym, I said to mi Amor, "Let's really fool them. Let's cook a frozen pizza, and when they wake-up we'll say they slept through the day and now it's time for dinner."

Mi Amor rolled his eyes and said, "L-A-M-E!"

"Instead," he suggested. "We'll fill their breakfast plates with broccoli!" (Remember my kids are allergic to anything healthy?) Then we'll say, "Breakfast is served!" Dunt Dunt Dah! (insert villainous music here).

I thought to myself, "I think I married Einstein because this idea is brilliant!"

One by one my homies wobbled out of their rooms and found their place at the breakfast table.

I said in a cheery voice, "Get it while you can! Fresh organic broccoli, hand selected especially for you, this very morning from Walmart's produce department!" My homies were not amused, and the littlest started crying, flinging his body to the ground in absolute horror. (5 solid years of breakfast with Toucan Sam will cause a child to react in such a way.)

I was ready to keep playing along, especially since the other two had begun taking petite bites of their broccoli. I delighted in watching them pucker, chew, and swallow in pure disgust. They are so trusting, really. Can you believe they believe I know what's best for them?

As I began telling my littlest homie to get-up to the table so he could grow some hair on his chest, I remembered that I had forgotten to wash the broccoli. A bit panicked (because who knows what kind of germs lurk on unwashed organic broccoli), I said, "Halt the veggie feast, ya'll!" Then, like a ray of April Fool's Day light, mi Amor came into the kitchen, tall and sweaty. There he stood, balancing a box of day-old donuts on his hand like a waiter delivering a feast to a table full of neglected and starving children.

He's a genius, I tell you. Because who looks like the Wicked Witch of the West now?

The End of Me

Why did I just inhale an entire family-sized bag of Reese's Pieces peanut butter eggs? Where's the self-control, chicas?

I'm blaming my growing gut-pooch on the Mia Maids, because on Sunday, one of my girls handed out eggs filled with these little bits-of-heaven. After emptying 4 eggs--I repeat, 4 eggs into my mouth, I said to myself, "On the morrow, when it's no longer the Sabbath day, I'm going to buy my own supply." I bought a ginormous bag at Walgreens on Monday, and 24 hours, 3 blackheads, and 2100 calories later, they're all g-o-n-e, and I ate every single one.

P.S. I just unbuttoned the top button on my button fly 501s (remember how cool those were)? I can now breathe. The church is still true.

P.P.S I ran out of Diet Dr. Pepper on the Sabbath and Basha's Fiesta cola vending machine was out-of-order. I went the whole day soda free, so maybe I can quit injecting myself with the junk. What do you think?

Rants and Swimsuits

I've been working out at the gym, faithfully, since December. I've gained 15 pounds in my rear and gut, and I don't think the weight gain is due to the newly-grown muscles in my triceps. My rear is bursting out of my old jeans (just say no to crack), and I look five months pregnant. Every time I pass the hallway mirror, I suck-in my gut. Then I wish I could remove my gut-pooch and stuff it into my bra.

My point is: It's warming up outside, and the yappy birds in our backyard trees are reminding me that, soon, I'll be sitting poolside in my itty-bitty, yellow-polka dot tankini. And that reminder made me wish that didn't have to wear a swimsuit with a padded top. Did you know stuffing with toilet paper doesn't work? The toilet paper sags then scatters into pieces once you've gotten into the pool. A total disaster. Trust me, I should have a PhD in this topic. (Hannah will die when she reads this. And you know what else? She and I have the same bra size, and I'm not kidding one bit.)

Last night I flexed my biceps for the Mia Maids, and they were totally impressed. I told the girls, "If you ever need me to kick someone's butt for you, I'll do it." That's what good Mia Maid leaders do: encourage Personal Progress and kick butts. (Such crass language from such a religious gal, I do say.)

Anyhoo, I want to tell you that I got an "A" in my writing class, two points shy of a perfect "A." Are you so proud of me? I just want to give a shout out to Professor Deakin for being such an AWESOME teacher--I adore her to her bones.

P.S. I can't take credit for that bodacious bicep. It belongs to my brother, Chris. My bicep is almost as big, though.

Globe Obsessed

Have you ever wanted something so badly
that it possessed your body & your soul
through the night & through the day?

That's how I'm feelin' about this here globe I spotted at Anthropologie today. I want it bad, and I've been thinking about it all day long. But it's 148 buckaroos and something that expensive needs approval from 'da boss, aka, mi amor.

So, at tonight's 9 o'clock showing of Diary of a Wimpy Kid (I heart Rowley), I popped the question. "Can I buy the globe I saw at Anthropologie for 148.00? It's on sale, half-off, a total bargain, and the only one of its kind!"

He took a bite of popcorn and a sip of soda and said, "N-O." Just like that, "no."

So that's why I'm blogging to you right now. I wanted to let you know that tonight I'll be dreaming about winning the Lotto. And when I win the jackpot, my first purchase will be...that globe. Pray for me.

P.S. Maybe I'll call mi madre and tell her about this globe situation.

P.P.S It's not against the law to take your kids to the movies on a school night, even when it's past their bedtime. Plus, when you take your kids to the movies at 9 o'clock on a school night you get the theater all to yourselves. Now that's what I call a memorable fhe. Or maybe that's what you call poor planning. It's a toss-up, really.