GUSH!!! (And Other Sounds)

Ok, I’m coming out of the closet.  I’m a minor Neil Diamond fan.  I didn’t go all jello-kneed when I heard it was Neil Diamond week on AI, but when I heard David Cook sing this week…. (breathless sigh)

I’m not going to lose my recommend over this, right?  Murmuring against the missionaries and lusting after a future rock star in the same week and all.

Remember that no cussing thing I’m trying out?  Good thing we don’t have a swear jar.  Somebody would be getting a big donation to their charity, and it wouldn’t be my birthday party fund!  Shana the Beautiful and I were at JoAnn’s last night getting all the stuff to make my invitations with, and there was an accident.  Nothing too serious, it just involved me, my hand, and some doormats that felt the need to fall off the shelf.  I was trying to be a good customer and put them back, and that’s when it happened.  I felt really bad because there was a man and his son in the next aisle and I heard the man make some comment.  Bad enough to seek him out and apologize for my language, but he did not seem the approachable type so I let it lie.

Let’s talk about the last acceptable stereotype.  Fat people.  I feel I am an expert on this subject, given that I could easily be mistaken for a blue whale (except I would be an albino one), and I’m interested in your COMPLETELY HONEST thoughts on the situation.  Going back to last night, we decided to go out to Fresh Choice for dinner.  I loathe buffet-style restaurants because you know they worry when they see a fat man coming, and you know you’re providing somebody there some material for their comedy act!  Plus, the food isn’t all that great.  It’s like a step up from hospital food.  Anywho, even though I had less food on my plate than the couple sitting next to us (through a glass-less window/wall divider thingy), I could totally see the dude peeking through to see how much food was on my plate and commenting to his girlfriend about it!  For the record, here’s what I had:  On the main salad plate I had 2/3 plate of leaf lettuce with edamame, feta, raisins, rice vinegar and maybe a tablespoon of little won ton strips.  I also had a few bites of some seriously flavorless Chinese chicken salad on the same plate, and on a smaller dish I had two pieces of cheese pizza sticks.  When Shana came back from getting her kid something, I said loud enough for the couple to hear:  “You know, you reeeeally take a chance coming out to a place like this with me.  People are just dying to know how much crap the fat chick puts on her plate!”  Them keeping to themselves for the rest of the meal was the best dessert one could have.  That, and the industrial tapioca pudding sprinkled with cinnamon.

Now honestly, I normally don’t let stuff like that bug me.  I really wasn’t even all that bothered by it last night, either.  But my shoulder devil just couldn’t resist causing a little trouble!  You understand. 

One of my friends from the ward called because she was writing a paper for school on this exact subject and wanted to know how I felt or if there were instances in which I had been treated disrespectfully because of my weight.  I felt I wasn’t a very good person to ask because I have reached the point where I really don’t care about the smallness of some people’s personalities that leads them to treat me that way, and I’m also not one of those poor, misguided souls from NAAFA that thinks businesses around the nation need to accommodate our size.  She even asked me about a time when we were at one of our “Biggest Losers” meetings (she is not a “person of size” by any stretch of the imagination) that I had said I really want to get smaller so I can fit on the rides when we go to Disneyland again, and she asked if I thought places like that should change their attractions to accommodate me.  NO, I really don’t think businesses need to do that.  If my fat ass is uncomfortable at the movies or on a roller coaster ride, I am the person that needs to do something about it!

Well, I’ve got mom duties waiting for me.  No one likes to wait for dinner, they need it RIGHT NOW!!!

In. Som. Nia……

Sing that to the tune of “Genovia” from The Princess Diaries, and you’ve got what I have had alllllllll nightttttttttt looooooooooooooooooong.

“Caffeine-free” Diet Pepsi my ass!

Shall I Save You A Seat, Then?

Is it speaking ill of the Lord’s anointed to murmur against the missionaries? Because if it is, I’m –> yay <– further down the path to Hell tonight.

Desperate pleas made by the RS Prez to host them for dinner were made yesterday. The calendar had already been through Primary and YW. Thursday night didn’t work for me so I picked this evening. They called while the phone was on charge last night to remind me (since I might have forgotten in the last 6 hours) they were coming, and was 6:30 ok? “Sure, no prob.” was the message I left with them. Except they didn’t take their phone with them to Sacramento today.

At 6:48, I rang to see if they were running late. OOPS. THEY forgot!!!

Which would be no big deal except this is not the first or second time it’s happened. It’s more like, the fifth. No lie. The other times, they claim they got us mixed up with the family for the next night (or week!) and could we do it when that family was supposed to instead? Which again, I don’t mind. I get that they’re busy. But how come it’s always with us??? How come the other family isn’t inconvenienced?

PBTHTTH!!! I hate being polite sometimes.

I Never…

Have you ever played that game?  It’s the best!  Especially when all of your friends have colorful pasts, and compared to them you seem as pure as the driven snow.  (Speaking of driven snow, what the crap is that?!?)  We used to play it at Mom’s Night Out back in my MOMS Club days, and it goes like this:

You get a medium-sized bowl and something small that you have a lot of.  Cheerios, macaroni noodles, pennies, whatever, and give each person a set amount like 25.  Then you sit in a circle and someone starts by saying something like, “I never joined the mile-high club”, or “I never got arrested”, something hopelessly dramatic like that.  Whoever HAS done that thing, chucks in one of their pieces of whatever.  Then it goes around and around until the last person to have something left wins.

I’m thinking of adding it to the list of entertainment at my big bash.  Want to come?

The “School’s Out” Disease

Despite what one might think, having kids out of school is not fun. At least, not for me. It seems I come down with this disease that makes it impossible for me to get out of bed. Once I manage that, there’s no guarantee that I won’t spend the day wasting as much time as possible in front of Boob Tube II (that would be the computer monitor, not a TV). Sure, it feels productive to skunk your brother and sister at Scrabulous. It also feels like quite a bit has been accomplished when you read two accounts’ worth of e-mails, update various blogs you may write, and locate everyone under the sun that you’ve known at some point in your life and ask them to “friend” you on Facebook. (What is this insane need I have to reconnect with everyone I used to know as I get older?)

Now that we’re not moving this month, I have serious things that need to be done! I’ve got junk to divide and ship off to Goodwill. A birthday bash to plan (and get invites out this week for!), booty to find to fill the party bags with, a garden to plant, and crap to pack just in case we end up moving at the end of summer after all. Plus, I need to collect paperwork for my attorney meeting on Thursday, mail to drop off and four books to devour before they’re due on Wednesday.

I know, I know… we can’t all lead a life of fabulousness like this. But I will grin and bear it so the rest of you will never know just how hard it is to be as cool as me.

Kiss, kiss!

Oops, I Was Tagged!

Ok, I was tagged by my brother a couple of weeks ago to come up with 10 things I love about a family member. Here are 10 Things I Love About D, in no particular order:

1. He’s always happy to see me.
2. He was the first kid I had that I felt hugged me with his heart, not just his arms.
3. He really tries to use his words instead of reacting with a pounding to his brothers.
4. He doesn’t hog the bed when he crawls in while I’m still asleep, unlike some other kids of mine I know!
5. He still loves Mickey Mouse even though he’s older than his brothers were when they moved on to other characters of the cartoon world.
6. He’s the “baby” of our family, need I say more?
7. When it’s his turn to say family prayer and we whisper to him to say “bless the Prophet”, he includes him by name whether we tell him who that is or not.
8. He doesn’t complain all night long about how hungry he is if he chooses not to eat the dinner that was made that night.
9. His best friend’s mom is one of my best friends.
10. His imaginary friend, Lenny, only tags along occasionally.

Ok, now I tag…. Shana the Beautiful, Ana the Banana, and Rachel the Rowdy. Go forth and list!

P.S.

Grey’s Anatomy is back!

(insert Scissor Sisters happy dance here)