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.