Crackhead in the Kitchen

For easy, comfort food recipes, please visit Angel in the Kitchen. For randumb recipes made in a messy kitchen the size of a matchbox, please read on.

Due to high levels of caffeine this snowy morning, I decided to cook "real" food. As with all momentous occasions in my life, I decided to blog about it. Here is my recipe for "Grown up Grilled Cheese":

You will need:

Leftover Bruschetta from another wild hair moment
Frenchish type bread or something
Sharp chedder cheese leftover from a cheese/summer sausage/cracker platter
Optional:
Pepper Jack cheese leftover from above mentioned platter
Bacon would be really really good to, but I didn't have any
Crappy blizzard like weather

The mall opened at 11AM, and in this town that means the weather wasn't totally life threatening. Marcy and I tied rope around our waists and tethered ourselves to my Escape in case we couldn't find the door.

Butter up your bread, layer cheese to your liking, top it with the Bruschetta, and fry to a golden brown.



Fake spray butter and leftover wine optional*

The Bruschetta was something I had been craving for a couple of days, so I whipped that up last night. I used ripe Roma tomatoes, but I think Grape tomatoes might have tasted better. Whichever you choose, don't use tomatoes that are too soft. The texture of a firm tomato is much better.

Some chopped tomatoes
Some light olive oil
Some balsamic vinegar
Some garlic
Some basil

Let it sit a while to let the flavors mingle. I fried the French bread in some olive oil. I got the craving for Bruschetta after watching the movie "Julia and Julie". As with all trips to the grocery store, don't watch that movie on an empty stomach. I refuse to read the book. The weight gain would depend on how long it would take me to read it.

Because waxing your own armpits isn't all that funny

OK, OK, it's a little funny. After you clean up the wax and your skin grows back in two weeks.

Yes, I've been neglecting you all. I've been absorbed in my own little academia world of hair removal and zit zapping, and making important life decisions, such as "is it Cabernet that I like best, or a Merlot? Why do I not write myself a note before I drink the entire bottle and forget if I actually liked it or not?"

I'm a hair removal fanatic. It's such a sense of satisfaction. Unless you have some bimbo with small, yet fleshy pits telling you how she wants it done. She wanted it done the wrong way. That was an hour of my life I'll never get back. I bought myself my own waxing kit. I don't know why. We have plenty of downtime at school, and we can wax ourselves whenever we want.

I eagerly set up my wax pot, and attempted to pull off the lid. They fill the pots to the top, and the wax stuck to the lid, and pulled like taffy. So I did the dumbest thing, and used my fingers to separate the wax from the lid. It was all over my hands! My kit came with 7 bottles of pre and post waxing lotions, tinted concealer, surface cleaner, yet NO wax remover. I know this, because I checked each bottle 3 times. Covering them all with more and more wax. I panicked and tried the surface cleaner and nail polish remover, swearing up a storm the entire time. My classmate lives 8 blocks from me, and I thought of calling her because I knew she would have wax remover. Then I imagined covering my phone in wax. I knew the cats would be of no help. There was a young man who lost his arms in a farming accident and dialed 911 with a pencil in his mouth. That was plan C. Then I remembered that our wax remover at school is oil. Pam Olive Oil cooking spray worked like magic!!!

Once my hands were clean, I was ready to wax away. I was told you could re-wax over the same spot twice with the brand of wax I bought. You can...if you want to rip more skin off your armpits than that top layer that you "exfoliated" the first time you waxed it. It only takes 2 weeks to heal.

I was bored today, so I thought I'd wax my legs and underarms. I needed something to prop my foot onto, so I used a short cat perch.

I keep the wax pot on the back of the toilet. Probably a mistake.


I switched from one type of wax to another, so I put the one I was no longer going to use in the bathtub to cool off.
I think the only mistake I made was not keeping the bathroom door closed.

I'm not going to even go into how I've tried to wax my own "downstairs" more than once. It involves a lot of sweating, swearing, and deep breaths. And yet I'm dumb enough to try it again. Right now. Gotta go....

Adventures in Brazil

It's been a long time, friends. I have been busy with work, school, and booz-uh-socializing on the weekends. Then my Firefox wasn't working, and that's where all my bookmarks are saved (can't remember all my passwords, even though I'm sure they're pet names or something) and so I lost track of blogs. Not that I have any energy to read much more than facebook updates after I get home. Anyhoo....on to the one actual funny thing that has happened to me in months....

A couple weeks ago we jumped into the Brazillian waxing in my psuedo beauty school. Cosmetology students are a different breed. We call it "The 13th Grade". Imagine a "Legally Blonde" slumber party with lots of hair cutting and eyebrow waxing and hijinx. But I digress.

There we were, me and my one classmate, an educator, the person who was teaching us the waxing, and Ron, the one guy from the day class. Oh, yeah. RON. The girls from the day class refused to let Ron in on their waxing tutorial. He's in his 50's, and a nurse. My classmate and I figured since we have such little shame left, what's the harm in letting him watch something that he will probably never practice? Hmmm? Besides, when you're lying there with all your business on display awaiting an unknown pain to be forced upon you, you tend to not pay attention to who is in the room. If you ever have to go through a Brazillian waxing tutorial, here's a tip: while you are on display, waiting for the wax to harden, having a light chat with the spectators at your feet, try not to make eye contact. When there is a lull in the conversation, their eyes migrate to the wax. And I'm not talking about the wax that's on the cart in the wax pot next to you.

My classmate had waxed one of my eyebrows the day before. When you rip the strip off, it's best to apply some pressure to the skin. It lessens the pains. She kept forgetting to do that, so afterward I told her to try to remember that when waxing someone. And that was just my eyebrow. Could you imagine if she forgot that important step on a larger, more sensitive area?

So there I am, half of me waxed by the pro, the other half being practiced on by the non-pro. She started on the peripheral first. I told her a few times to apply pressure with her hand. And then we got down to business. I'm so glad there were no actual clients there that night. We don't have individual rooms. It's one large room with hospital curtains and beds that we close off when working on a client. I would've been really embarrassed and felt even worse after she ripped that stip of wax off of me and I sat up and pointed at my classmate and yelled (out of pain) "YOU AND THAT FRICKIN' HAND!" I think that rush of adrenaline covered up the pain immediately. It wasn't so bad after I laid back down and apologized profusely for scaring her and for being psychotic.

Sadly, she still forgets to apply pressure when she waxes other areas of me. I think going out for beers after waxing each other's hoo-ha's made her forget all about me screaming at her and my silly helpful hand tip.

(ignore the picture I used. never once did we have to raise our legs or get on all fours. i used it for theatrical purposes, of course)

Back to School

OK, I'll back up for those that don't know the back story. I got a call last week from the cosmetology school telling me that I could start school this September, and not have to wait until March. I basically freaked out on the Admissions gal, telling her that she never called me at "the end of the week" like she said she was going to. And that was a month ago. How do you call someone out of the blue and tell them they are starting school in one week? I weighed the Pro's and Con's (freaked out and told everyone that would listen that I was confused and they all told me to go for it), and decided to go. I didn't want to miss the opportunity. Tomorrow is my first day. I'm not sure what to expect or if I'm supposed to wear my black scrubs on the first day. What to wear on my first day of school? This isn't the first time I've asked this question.

I was super excited for my first day of school. First grade, was it? I carefully selected the perfect outfit. I'm a bit obsessive, so I laid the clothing on my bed. I'm a bit obsessive, so I decided to put the underwear inside the pants, the socks in the legs, and the shoes on the floor. "It's like an outfit!" I said. So proud of that outfit.

My sister and I got ready for school, and headed off on foot with Mom. We got around the block when I started to feel something odd in my pants. We kept walking, but that feeling didn't go away. I finally shook the stored underwear that was tucked inside my pants from the night before out of my pant leg. I had completely forgotten that I had put them inside my pants, and had put on another pair. I told my mom what had happened. We turned around to see them about 5 feet on the sidewalk behind us. Also behind us, were two women, walking toward the school. My mom did what she does best. Delegates. She basically forced my sister to go back and get my underwear, and the two women behind us saw the whole thing. Mary Jane was mortified and mad. Of course my mom did what any mom would do in this situation. She put them in her purse and acted like nothing had happened.

I haven't been in school since 1996. I think I'm going to vomit. Everyone is really excited for me to practice facials on them. But don't worry. I'll let you all know when Bikini Waxing 101 starts. One at time, please....one at a time.

And then there were none

Today marked the end of an era. The end of a battle. Our dear, weary mother shipped off child #3 of 3 to college. Her most challenging prodigy to date. Granted, he's only about 5 miles away, but it's still a big deal for those involved. Not for my sister and I. We could care less. But I think someone else is feeling unsure of herself:

"The Eagle has left the nest!" I repeat, "The Eagle has left the nest!" Thus the battle cry went as I drove away from the college this afternoon with mixed emotions. Proud, scared, excited, you name it - I can only imagine how G-man feels. We went to WalMart - thank you SK for directions - only to be shot down by every suggestion I made to him of what he might like to have in his arsenal of goodies to make it through the first 3 days. He did come around as I tempted him with Beef Jerky and Mt. Dew. By the time we made it through the check out, I was $65 poorer - again. I was driving home, about 1/2 down the road when I heard the familiar ring-tone "Hello Motto". It's so nice to know I'm still needed, if only to run over the phone charger and a water bottle. Well, Ron's at work so for now it's just me, the dog and the cat - I think I'll have a little cheese with my whine -

I don't remember her moving my sister into the dorms. She went to school in Missouri, about 5 states away. I'm sure it was tough sending off the first daughter. She was intelligent and self sufficient, and we all knew she'd be OK on her own.

The second daughter had her car packed to roof, eager to go, and really couldn't care less if she said good bye or not. I was too excited to be on my own to have all the pomp and circumstance of hugs and good byes. I was only going to be an hour and a half away. I had a glorious trailer manufactured in the '70's waiting for me. Complete with shag carpet, fake wood paneling, and vinyl flooring on the kitchen countertops and shower walls. I was intelligent, self sufficient, and did most things my way. They hoped for the best. Mom and G-man brought me home 3 days later after I started crying over the washing machine that you hooked up to the kitchen sink started leaking onto the floor. But I have some fond memories of that shitty trailer, now. Over the course of 10 years, I moved back home 3 times. I'm surprised they didn't change the locks.

He's in slight denial about what he'll need or want while living in the dorm. He's also in slight denial about his schedule, location of classes, and generally everything involved with his new college life. When he was about 3, he got his hand stuck in something and started freaking out. I just laughed and said, "Live and learn, live and learn". And that's pretty much all I can say about this new experience as well.

How NOT to spend your birthday

It's that time of year, again. Time to get older. Time to look back on the past year and reflect. Time to look forward to the year ahead. I'm only 34. Not much of a milestone. Next year, however, if I don't accomplish something and feel like I'm living like a real adult, I will be very bummed. People think I look around 27. I think I act like I'm 21 and feel like I'm 54.

I thought I'd treat myself to a nice present. I was going to run around town and change my married last name to my maiden name. It took us 2 years to get divorced, so who cares if it's taken over 6 months to change my last name? Pain in the ass to change your name. It started and ended at a long DMV line. I saw a woman walk into the building, and immediately walk out. A lot of people do that when they see the line. She however, had forgotten her sleeping toddler in her car. I'm sure if it wasn't 90 degrees with 85% humidity, the kid would've survived.

A man eventually came around to ask us why we were in line, to make sure we were in the right line, or to put the lucky ones in a shorter line. "I'm changing my last name." "Did you get married?" he asked. *sigh* Do I tell him "No, the sex change was a success" or "No, I want to make my stripper name legal"? "Divorce" I replied. He asked if I had the stamped paperwork. Paperwork, yes. Stamped? Notarized? Huh? A little while later another woman came around to ask why we were in line. She however was smart enough NOT to ask any questions. I showed her my paperwork, and indeed it was not correct. But I could stay in line and they would help me figure out what I need. Awesome.


The sleeping toddler ahead of me was now awake, and generously expressing everyone's distaste and impatience for the DMV. A girl walked in, and said "I just want to change my name. I have to stand in this line?" The guy behind me was nice enough to answer. "Yep! They've already come around twice to make sure we were in the right line." And in my head I screamed, "YOU'RE WELCOME." So the answer was: "This is just like a receipt. Saying you did it." Yeeaah....so take it!! Nope. Not good enough. So why the hell did the state of Illinois not just give us the notarized paperwork after it was finalized? As if on cue, the toddler acted out my disdain for this man and his bad news.

So, then I did what I always do when the going gets tough: shopping. Mistake #2. I ate a lot a lot of take out Chinese Sunday and Monday due to my school disappointment, and I'm pretty sure the junk I've eaten since then has gone straight to my gut. I needed a sassy new birthday shirt for tonight! One that hasn't been seen and photographed and published on facebook! No go.


Mistake #3: go to WalMart on a Friday afternoon. Apparently half the town took the day off for my birthday. I had just waited in another long line at DQ for a slushie, and realized I couldn't leave it in the car. I was on the phone with Marcy (who also stayed home for today's holiday) and told her "I'm bringing in this slushie. I swear to God, if the elderly greeter tells me I can't bring it into the store, I WILL bodycheck them." Turns out, God was listening. The greeter was in a wheelchair, and even though it was motorized, I was still able to outrun the old bag. It's freakin' HOT today! I wanted my slushie, a new fan, and my old last name back! Is that too much to ask?


Anyway....you all know what I'll be doing tonight and tomorrow:

Walking on Broken Glass

"Sometimes, certain of God's blessings arrive by shattering all the windows" (Brida, Paulo Coehlo)

First off, let's give props to Alex for recommending that I read "Brida". It was really good, and I thank her.

OK, back to me.....I hate listening to my voicemails. "Blah blah blah..call me...." I got an unknown call on Friday at work, and couldn't answer my cellphone. I finally listened to the message on Sunday. It was my cosmetology school telling me I was the only person signed up for night Esthetician classes that were starting on September 8. So my options are to go days, full time, or wait until March when the next classes will start. I sobbed and sobbed. All day. I had just bought school supplies. This is something I have been looking forward to, something to make my meaningless job less annoying, something to accomplish, something new that would give me a happier future. Pulled out from under me. I have been in a funk for 3 weeks, and this was the icing on the 3rd week.

"It's probably a good thing," I told myself an hour later, while in the drive thru, waiting for my Chinese comfort food. I would have had simultaneous car payments and school payments for a few months, and I haven't been so great at saving money. Do I want to hear other people say that? No. No one likes sage advice when they feel like crap. But thanks anyway, Mom. No, we want empathy, and have our feelings acknowledged. We want you to listen, say you feel bad for us, and leave it at that. (Or if you are Nicole, get really angry, and plot revenge. I thank you for that.) Not ignore what we say, or go on about how great your day is going. Selfish of me? Maybe. But when someone is hurting, they should be allowed such feelings for a time. Some people aren't equipped to deal with other people's emotions, though. Selfish of them? Maybe.

I don't really know what to do at this point. I guess I have to wait until March, and hope for the best. Right now it really stings.

Desperate Housewife

My sister has yet to start blogging, despite my encouragements. I think blogging is a great way to share your thoughts and feelings with complete strangers (ie venting)! She chooses to slowly peck away at us with facebook updates, tweets, and emails. Her blog would swing between fresh topics such as: health care reform, stupid husband antics, the benefits of breast feeding for not only women, but also children and society, the frustrations of shopping, creating delicious and nutritious organic meals, how to resist the urge to runaway from pre-hormonal tweener girl and moody young son, current political events, insane mother inlaws, how to be thrifty because your husband is a complete tightwad, and cat poop. Her life is my reminder of why I enjoy being footloose and fancy free (her words, not mine). Here are excerpts from two emails. If I never post again, it's because she has killed me over this. Enjoy! (one of 2 annoying mother in laws gave her a "break" from the kids today)

EMAIL #1: This little girl kitty is a dumb ass. She won't drink water out of the dog's water dish so I set one out for her. She won't drink out of that so she's been drinking out of the fish bowl (because really isn't water full of fish poo tastier than plain tap water?). And then for whatever reason she decided that the cup of water one of the kids had left out was even better. But she got her head stuck in it. TWICE. Ta-da! She may be retarded.

So there I was at Kohl's on the interstate there on the way out of town and it was open for 1 more hour so I stopped to look for a dress for a wedding in a couple weeks and I called you (as you would know if you ever answered your phone ahem). Apparently I am too much of a dumb ass to shop in Kohl's because I couldn't find the dresses. I finally figured out they didn't have one section with just dresses. They were spread all out between chunky, skanky, granny, petite (no dresses there), and too damn young. It blew.

Have to go save the fish from the evil devil cat who is soaking his toes in the water as I type this. I guess that was my break.

EMAIL #2, un-edited: Why did I get these dumb cats?! So the stoopid boy is in the litter box this AM scratching and scratching and scratching and the little airhead is sitting outside waiting for her turn (hellooooo crossing my legs out here) so I pull off the lid of the litter box figuring if I scoop it out maybe he'll just go away so the girl can pee.

Despite about 5 min of scratching, there was a huge turd in there without a single grain of litter on it. I go to try and scoop it so he'll just get the heck out of the box... aaaaaand he steps right on it. Then he shakes off his foot and sprays shit all over the bathroom walls. Just shoot me.

My dumb ass husband (sensing a theme here?) moved the fish bowl last night so it is sitting wedged between the wall of the buffet and a box I have sitting on the buffet. I say to him, "you know the cats can climb that little box and sit on top of it and still get to the fish?" He says, "Oh yeah, I just figure it will slow them down a little. Of course that airhead kitten will probably fall in and drown herself." Which is probably true the way things are going w/these dingbats. So glad I'm "getting a break". Right! I need a break from my house, not my kids! Sheesh!

And my supportive, sisterly response on her facebook wall:

every time you email or call me, you just confirm that your life sucks. imagine how bored you'll be when the kids move out and all the animals are dead.

Things I learned

while schlepping pizza to "a bazillion" Boy Scouts and their parents and siblings at a mini-baseball daycamp with the FM RedHawks and then watching a free baseball game:


1) It hurts to turn down last minute tickets to see Dave Matthews Band
2) Boys under the age of 10 can be quite rambunctious
3) The choice between cheese or pepperoni can be quite difficult
4) Some Boy Scouts have really hot dads
5) Schlepping pizza and checking out hot dads and trying to figure out if they are married are hard to do at the same time
6) 250 people can walk past my stepdad in the pizza line and not tell him his fly is open
7) If a dad comes through the line, and he looks like Richie Sambora from Bon Jovi, chances are he's not really Richie.
8) I am a pizza line nazi, as well as a sandbagging nazi "KEEP IT MOVING, PEOPLE"

9) Having your mother stand on the 3rd baseline dugout and guessing 3 ringtones at the top of the 5th inning in front of 4,059 fans can be somewhat embarrassing (she got 3 out of 3 with some help from a spectator, and we were sitting behind the 1st baseline dugout)
10) Having your mother tell you that you can drink at the game, but you have to take your shirt off can be unsettling, also (boyscout shirt)
11) PBR is actually really good beer. Especially when it's on special for $2 for a 16oz can
11) PBR is actually really good beer for pairing with an over priced caramel apple
12) PBR is actually really good beer for giving you gas
13) Semi-pro baseball players are hot
14) Seeing the bat boy for the opposing team pose for a picture for his proud dad, and waving to his family in the stands who drove 10 hours to see him in action is really sweet
15) The bat boy for the opposing team ran like a girl

Yeah, I'm still here

Going along, minding my own business....working out, cleaning the apartment, eating right, making Marcy do stupid antics cuz I hem her shirts for free, feeling groovy, and then....not so much. It seems like ever since I had my back adjusted and was in pain for two weeks, I've just lost my zeal and my focus. Then I realized this time of year I tend to re-evaluate my life. I think it's the impending birthday next month.

It started out as wanting some down time. I like being alone and recharging my batteries. Being hilarious and entertaining takes some effort, you know. I have perfected one of my crafts, so that was fun for the week. Shopping is so exciting when you actually have a reason to buy a bunch of useless crap! Then it turned into Firefox not working, so I had to use Internet Explorer, which I hate, and had to remember passwords and blah blah blah. So the blog following got off schedule. And I then I no longer cared what people were saying on Twitter. Eating out was too enticing to pass up. The job is...not to be bitched about on the internet. ($#@&*^!) And the gym? Let's not talk about it. *sniff*

I have been trying to practice an attitude of gratitude everyday. I'm trying to remember that what I think about, I bring about. However.....I'm sure even Ghandi got constipation. To sum it up, I shall use my facebook status update for tonight:

thank YOU for the tension headache. (i can practice an attitude of gratitude however i f*cking want)

There is a reason to live, though. NKOTB announced they will do another cruise in May 2010, and the NKOTB Concert Committee just might go this time!!! There's a reason to save money, sell my new little crafty item (yes, i'll blog them), and hit the gym!

Randumb Outtakes

What a busy holiday weekend I had.

Put away some laundry. (The shirt says "I live in Fargo. Really")



Laundry makes me tired, so I had to take a nap ASAP when it was all over.



Met the most high maintenance customer at Pier 1. (Her photographer was also very bossy)



Then I took another nap. That's a good way to spend a Sunday.

Happy Birthday, America

It's Weigh in Wednesday, and you know what that means! CUPCAKES! And maybe something else that i just couldn't walk away from....



Last night I went to to Bed Bath and Bullshit, I mean Blood Bath and Beyond, I mean Bed! Bath! and BEYOND! to try out some bathroom scales. And when I say "try out" I mean I selected one that gave me the lowest weight, and that's the weight I reported to my team. (A .2 difference is a lot!) Only down .5 this week. Oh well. I'll eat some Cookie Brownie Bars and blow something up this weekend. That always makes me feel better.

Cleansing Thoughts: Ghetto-fied

Clearly, I have too much time on my hands. Bilby gave me the idea. Blame him. Why buy those little Cleansing Thoughts cards when you can make them yourself?! I'm crafty! And if you make them yourself, you can tailor your messages to your own needs. Such a good idea. All I used was some cute sticky notes, black marker, sandwich bag, inspiration and duct tape.

Soap gets in your eyes

I got an email notifying me that Kris Jones is now following me on Twitter. Who? Well, it turns out she is a an entrepreneur, and she created "Cleansing Thoughts". They are affirmation cards that are water resistant, and you attach them to your shower wall with the removable holder. Or something. Your mind is more open in the morning, and it's the best time to send positive thoughts into the universe, so you "create" a good day for yourself. I don't know about you, but I have my morning routine timed down to the millisecond. And I wear glasses, so I can't see anything. So it's rush rush rush, and half the time is spent with my eyes closed because I don't like water in my eyes. (this is the point where my sister will be inspired to leave a long story in the comments about me and my hate of water in my eyes. it burns!) All kidding aside, these are pretty cool. They could make a cool gift. All seriousness aside, here are some other shower items that could be cool gifts, as well:

(INSERT CREEPY SOUND AFFECT HERE)



NOT SURE IF THEY COME IN A VARIETY OF SIZES, OR JUST DD?



PICK YOUR PRODUCT: SOAP, SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER?



MY WORST FEAR:

Awe-suuuum?

Aw, thanks, Queen Bee! She was tagged as awe-summmm, and counted me in, too! So now I have to blog a third day in a row. You people will be so sick of me soon.....

I have to:

1. List 7 things that make me awe-summm!
2. Pass the award onto 7 bloggers that I love
3. Tag those bloggers to let them know they are now Queens too (and link back to the Queen who tagged you)

7 Things That Make Me Awe-Summm!

1. I'm just so darn funny
2. I've lost about 10 pounds in 2 months
3. I no longer feel bashful about sharing my weight
4. I try hard to be a better person at least 5 days a week
5. If you're feeling bad, I'm quick to try to make you feel better
6. I hem Marcy's shirts for free (I sit on them for 4 months, but whatev)
7. I put people at ease and make them feel comfortable. Total strangers love chatting me up

OK- I will tag these next 7 Queen bloggers, but if they don't choose to participate, that's OK:

Kelley @ Pass the Xanax cuz she's one of my oldest friends who needs to keep blogging
Becky @ The Courteous Chihuahua cuz she is so funny and needs to keep blogging
Alex @ Don't Put Up a Fuss cuz we've gotten each other through some tough retail times
Sass @ Are You Sassified? cuz I think she may be going through some of her own tough times?
Alix @ Casa Hice cuz that was one of the best bikini waxing stories I've ever read
Braja @ LOST and FOUND in India cuz no one but her can strike such a balance of writing that is one day beautiful and spiritual, and the next: tawdry
Bilby @ The Universe of Bilby cuz he taught me Australians don't really say G'day. I think he's a great writer (when he focuses!). Um...sorry it's a queen award, dude.

I think all the bloggers I follow are Awe-suuuum! Ivy and Haley, The Constant Chill, Leslie that saucy wench, Queen Bee, Martini Mom, Lissa, and Team Silver bloggers. Go to my profile to find everyone's links and read them all!

Do what now? Wednesday

Who doesn't love a good weight loss blog? This will be a blog filled with emotional highs and lows, intrigue, delusion, betrayal, and failed mechanics.

Dear Diary: I stepped on the scale today, and I'm down to 148.5 pounds. I almost cried! Hard work pays off, and I can lose more than a pound a week!! I'm hungry. Weigh In Wednesday will be great!

Dear Diary: OMG. Today I stepped on the scale, and I weigh 146.5 pounds! Holy crap! Life is amazing! I feel thin. My ass is totally smaller. I feel like my thighs are melting away. This weigh in will totally help out my team! I'm sore. Vegetables and soy patty again? Bleh.

Dear @$#&*!! Diary: WTF?? It's Wednesday. I step on the scale, and guess what? Hellooo...no I DO NOT weigh 120 pounds! Well, maybe, it's possib- NO, Sarah, NO. That scale is not working. Ok, no biggie....calmly go to the ghetto bathroom scale. Step on, exhale to lose all possible ounces...uh...crap, I can't read the little lines. I'm not on the big line, so that's good. Is it one or two little lines left of the big line? Do I ask the chick working? "Hi, uh, I have a weigh in tonight, and I'm getting old, and I can't see that far down, can you read the scale for me? And after that, will you please fix that other scale? Oh, and uh, sorry about that hole in the wall...behind the scale....that's a piece of crap."

Slow and steady wins the race. 149. The End.

Everything you didn't want to know about me A-Z

I picked this meme up from Sassy B, who picked it up from someone else, who got it from someone else, and blah blah blah. The internet is one big virus, don't you think? This A-Z of me is very facebook, but it's fun to be randumb and post random blogs. Feel free to do this on your own blogs, or share some of yourself in the comments section.


A - Age: 33 (or 29 for the 5th time)

B - Bed size: Full (lame use for B, but oh well. at least it wasn't BRA SIZE. B)

C - Chore you hate: Washing dishes (I used to have a husband for that. *sigh*)

D - Dog's name: It was Jake. You all remember THAT blog, don't you?

E - Essential start your day item: Bar soap. Not a body wash girl.

F - Favorite color: Rainbow!

G - Gold or Silver: Silver

H - Height: 5'3" and maybe a little extra?

I - Instruments you play(ed): violin.

J - Job title: Workflow Coordinator (whipping girl)

K - Kid(s): Tend to turn my biological clock backwards

L – Lick or bite: I prefer to smell my food first

M - Mom's name: HAPPY 60TH BIRTHDAY, NORMA!! (how the 3 of us haven't put you in the looney bin, we'll never know)

N - Nicknames: Snavely, Sarah K

O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Nope

P - Pet Peeve: When people have food on their face. It's called "using a napkin in regular intervals"!

Q - Quote from a movie: "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving!" Auntie Mame

R - Right or left handed: Right

S - Siblings: 30 something sister (she's OLDER, hehehe) and 18 year old brother

T - Time you wake up: Depends on Tigger. 4am, 5:15am, 6:32am, whenever the fancy strikes the little bastard.

U- Underwear: I prefer my drawers to cover my ass, not go in between it

V - Vegetable you dislike: I've tried beets once. DIRT

W - Ways you drink your coffee: Black, not too hot, the stronger the better

X - X-rays you've had: teeth, chest, finger. And whatever else in the airport.

Y - Yummy food you make: Oh, I just love cooking from scratch! (Scratch my way into the box)

Z - Zoo favorite : I hate zoos. They make me sad. So that leaves the gift shop? "I came, I saw, I did a little shopping." My vacation motto.

And they're off!!

(I didn't obtain reproduction rights for this cartoon)

After reading this blog, I was reminded of a morning last spring. It went something like this.....

I had been living in this apartment for almost a year. It's near downtown, but still a good neighborhood. (I haven't seen any transients for a while, but the nice weather just started) I can't control my heat (radiators) so I have my windows open pretty much everyday, year round. I was lying in bed, not quite ready to get up for the Saturday. I started to hear someone's voice, faraway, and it sounded as though it was on a speaker, or bullhorn. The person was very emphatic, and I was thinking "Hitler? Protest? Hitler??" Well, the abortion clinic is downtown, but it's located next to a wonderful deli that makes everything from scratch (I found a hair in my ginormous meatball, it's that homemade), and sells cute stuff, and is full of older women lunching, so nothing bad really happens down there. Then I heard a gun shot. Then I heard yelling and shouting. I don't really remember when I figured out that it was the start of the annual Scheel's Marathon (a big deal around here), but it was pretty freaky for awhile. Thank God I didn't call the police. That would've been embarrassing.

Flea Bags

my cats think everything in my hands is potentially delicious

I love going out with Marcy. She's a celebrity. So often people say hi to her, and after they walk away, I ask, "Who was that?" She usually answers, "I have no idea." It happened twice this weekend. The first time, Marcy asked the girl how she knew her. They had worked together, apparently. That wasn't the first time she ran into an old coworker she had blocked out. We were having ice cream one night, and this woman was almost heart broken that Marcy didn't remember ever working with her. Even though they sat a few desks away from each other. She needs to start scrapbooking these people, and write down their annoying qualities so she can look back and remember them the next time they say hi to her.

Anyway.....we went to the flea market today. The most beautiful day ever! Mother Nature has been a total beotch lately, but she finally took a Pamprin and gave us some perfect weather. I love looking at all the pretty things, and being spiteful because I wish I had the time, energy, and money to keep up my crafting. I would love to sell my wares, but I don't have any motivation. I'm considering an Etsy shop. But my crafts are another blog, for another time...Here are the two items I picked up today (sunburn and headache not pictured).

This is a little glass that reminds me of an ice cream parfait glass, nested inside a rusty spring. $6 I love all things rusty. MOM: "Why can't you ever buy anything new?" I just love distressed. I identify with it. The vase will sit on my desk at work, to help me forget I'm in hell.

No idea what this was from or for. There were four of them, and this is the only one that wasn't soiled. I think maybe they were to be pockets on an apron. I also collect aprons, but held back today. I don't wear them. I just like the idea of them. I think I'll sew this onto a flour sack towel. $1

To dye for

I had to teach the peeps at work a new skill, and you'd think I was teaching them quantum physics. More than one person mentioned needing a drink after work. I really felt bad for the girl who quit smoking on Monday. Bad timing. What happens when you smoke with the "patch"? I don't want to know....So I told them I'd bring them treats on Friday to make them feel better.

I've been looking for a reason to make these cupcakes for a while. It's only overdraft fee reversals, but still a good reason to self medicate! I also love anything "rainbow". I'd put a rainbow sticker on my car, but that would be counterproductive to my hopes of dating a man in the near future. Anyhoo, I think I first saw these on The Courteous Chihuahua blog, but if not, oh, well. Shout out! Check out her Face in Hole blog. FUNNY!

I used a vanilla cake mix and just four colors of regular food coloring. I was tempted to buy the neon, though.

Separate the batter into as many colors as you want, I guess? Blue is the least appetizing color, by the way. But in cupcakes? Who gives a sh*t? I went a little heavy on the dye. "You can always add, but you can't take away" is my mantra. I was feeling frisky, though.

(you can set your bowls right side up, but sideways works for me)

YUM! Finger paints!! I started with using the "2 spoon method". Don't cross your streams!!! You don't want to taint the bowls of colors. If you drop the colors in one by one, quickly, that works almost better, and faster. The batter is thick enough that it doesn't really spread too fast.


I frosted them with lemon flavored frosting, just for added punch. I just took one bite, then threw the rest away. {hahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!! *wipes tears from eyes*} Gotta go lie down now...the sugar rush is killing me!

Let's get crackin

Worst.dieting.week.EVAH! I'd like to thank my brother for having a birthday, graduating high school, my mom for having taken time off work and cooking and taking us out to eat (multiple times), Aunt Mabel for putting on a great spread with plenty of sweets on hand, and Bobby for also having a birthday. All in the span of a week. You all suck. (No, not really.)

I never thought I'd say this, "I can't wait to go back to work!" Actually, if I never went back, I'd be quite content. But normalcy, and routine is what we all need. Except the part about having to clean my apartment. I do need to crack the whip on myself and get back business, however.

The past few days I can smell something similar to rubber cement in the hallway of my apartment complex. Then, when I walk into my apartment, it's stronger. The cats aren't dead, or more spastic than normal, so I guess it's all OK.

Almost Famous

I have no idea why people want to get mentioned in my blogs. Don't they read all the Marcy posts? I don't hold back, people. I do tell them they need to embarrass themselves in order to be written about. What I don't tell them is it's still not a guarantee. Muwahahaha!

Had a busy four days. Baby bro had his 18th birthday on Friday, graduated high school on Saturday, and our sister came up from IL with her kids, so we spent some quality family time together (eating naughty food). Isn't that a sweet pic of Jordan and Brenda aka I wanna be mentioned in your blog? Notice how Jordan is too preoccupied with looking at herself in the camera screen, and not into the lens. Dork.

I'm off work Monday and Tuesday, and so far it's been quite lovely. Except the part where my bro and sis were calling me and stalking me because they wanted me to bring them Mt Dew, this morning. I'm thinking an intervention is in order. Mom cleaned out boxes from the rafters of the garage for about four hours, and tried to pawn stuff off on my sister, the victim, who also expected to be blogged about. MOM: "These are your baby clothes! Don't you want them?" MJ: "They all have garage sale stickers on them! Apparently you didn't want them, either!" I guess we bond differently than normal families.

I'll leave you with a parting shot of our poor brother's birthday/graduation cakewreck my sister and I designed. All we had was pink frosting. That just added to the wreck mystique, though.

Oh, for the love of jeans!

Snap. I joined this seven week weight loss team challenge, and come to find out I have to blog my weight?? Can't we just email it?? It's all for the love of Team Silver (foxes). Ok, I added the foxes part. Maybe if I just sneak in the fact that I'm currently one hundred fifty one pounds no one will notice?

When I tell people I want to lose 25-30 pounds (sorry, bilby, i don't convert to kilos) they're surprised. It's distributed well. (no, it's not in my boobs) So well in fact, that when I was getting measured for my dress for Sarah D's wedding, the Korean seamstress slapped my thigh and said "OH, you got big thighs! You don't look it!" I just about slapped her. She didn't charge me for the measurements or verbal abuse. And that was when I was about 15 pounds lighter!

So here's a linkback or whatever to the sista hood website. I have to do this every Wednesday. I need to make weight loss a helluva lot funnier, or I'm gonna start losing readers AND pounds! You can join in on the fun Marcy and not be on a team and lose weight and get support and whateva. FREE! Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans

Oh, snap...

My friend Nicole, aka June Clever, has taken on "oh, snap" as her new favorite saying. She says it in the whitest girl way possible, and I laugh every time. She says it whenever something bad happens. Which fortunately tends to be often.

Remember my last post? "I give life decisions about an hour. Sometimes thirty minutes" Yeah, I gave the next one all of five minutes. I have a very short attention span, so the thought rolled around in there about 3 times, while I was busy looking at shiny objects. I've joined a 7 week weight loss team challenge over at Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. There's a dude, too. Maybe they'll change the name to "Dieters in the Hood"?

I'm a month and five pounds into my weight loss journey, and starting to loosen the death grip on my diet. Which means it's time to find more ways to stay focused! I'm on Team Silver, and Lissa has informed me we're goin down. Yeah, IN POUNDS, girlfriend! After I joined I thought "Oh, snap. What did I get myself into?" And then I thought "I hope I don't have slackers on my team. I hope I'M not the slacker on my team." I'm sure they're all quite lovely.

If you want to have that same thought....feel free to head on over to their website! They WILL shred you, my friend. (Marcy)

Me and My Big Ideas.....

Yeah, I've been layin low. It's all going to the gym, eating mostly vegetarian, drinking only water, keeping the digs clean. That doesn't leave much time for looking for trouble. Unless you count deciding to go back to school as trouble.

As Mama Alex said, "All those trips to the spa paid off!" (Well, as of post time, facebook doesn't say her baby has come yet..waiting, waiting, waiting) I signed up for The Salon Professional Academy's Esthetician course. I gave it a few weeks thought. Usually I give my life decisions about an hour, sometimes 30 minutes. As I was signing my life away, and getting the financials, I thought I was going to throw up. I have to be confident that I can pay for it. It'll be a lifestyle change, but for the better. Starting September, I'll be going 3 nights a week, and every other Saturday. And after 43 long weeks, on July 3rd, 2010, I'll get my license. Who wants to be the first victim of my bikini waxing services??

I'm very thankful for all the support I've been getting for this decision. I'm being told I'll be great at it, and it's perfect for me. I'll keep doing my microderm/chemical peels to minimize my acne scarring on my face. That's what's really bothering me, but also why I decided to do this. I'm worried it won't go away as much as I hope it will, and people won't think I'm good advertising. When I go to the skin and laser clinic now, I just stare at everyone's pore-less faces, wishing that I had that perfect, smooth skin. I've been told my skin will get better. It'll just take time. I'm also doing this because for some reason, anytime I see an advertisement for a spa, or just see the word, I perk up like a cat that hears the can opener. I think I'll finally have a career I enjoy.

I'm excited to start this new adventure, and trying not to think about finding a job! I'm not too keen on moving right now. North Dakotans aren't all that metropolitan and frivolous. I hate to break it to you. I guess I'll have to change that...

JESUS, I need some coffee

I got a new neighbor. I hate getting new neighbors. It's all "why is her shit in my garage? this isn't self serve storage, honey" and then I get notes on my car "don't park here anymore, it's now taken". And then I have to train the newbies not to leave their crap in the one washer and one dryer shared by 8 units. Put it in, set a timer, and take it out. Or else some creepy dude is going to pin your thong to the clothes line. Thank God my granny panties are safe from that fate.

So the new girl was moving in last night when I got home around midnight. Today I passed her unit and saw something I was not expecting. (I'm not going to take a picture of what I saw. These two images I lifted from the net are funnier.) I saw a small end table with a coffee maker on it. OK...maybe it's just there for the time being, these are small units....Then I saw the flier advertising some mission ministry music fest. In Chicago. OK....At first, I just saw the "mission" statement, and fled to DQ. (The diet is going fine. I deserved it) The whole drive I'm thinking "What the fuck? Is she running a mission out of her apartment? I realize we are walking distance from downtown, and there are a lot of sketchy characters, but I prefer it when they are NOT in my building. Are they going to sing? Worship? DETOX? It's bad enough running into a neighbor while in my robe, or ratty lounge wear while running down 3 flights of stairs to the laundry room only to be pissed off. Now I have to prepare to run into the homeless??

"Or maybe.....she'll have coffee for us neighbors in the AM...there are no coffee condiments or cups, or those little stirrer stix thingies...well, maybe she's green and is only making the organic coffee in her reusable filter and expects us to provide the rest." Damn. I just gave up coffee this week, too. Too hard on my system. Maybe this is Jesus' way of testing me.

**i was left a dollar in quarters once and a nice note apologizing for the wait for the washer. but what i really appreciated was the half a can of old milwaukee he left me on the dryer. it was still cold. that was sweet.