Thank you to everyone who complimented my site design! It was done by a special ickle guy I call “The Daver.” Honestly, it was a template that he set up for me, not a design I paid someone for. I’m not opposed to that, and Dave swears that he can do it for me, but I am not smart enough to know WHAT I’d like to do with it. I have no mental picture about what would be flippin’ sweet, so I go with pre-made templates.
That may have been the most boring paragraph I have ever typed. Well, aside from when I had to write research papers on research methods. That was far more boring, as I’m sure you can imagine.
What the fcuk is the deal with the whole Hannah Montana thing? I saw what’s-her-face on Idol Gives Back, but I just didn’t quite get the appeal. It’s not as bad as the Bratz dolls or anything equally hootchie, but I don’t see why kids go insane for her.
Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Anyone?
All last week I’d been looking forward to getting down and dirrrty in my garden over the weekend when I have another parent to watch the wee one, lest he climb into a bees nest or something thinking that it was A Ball! In typical form, it was either rainy or cold both days.
And it’s supposed to freeze tonight.
I am so totally moving somewhere else.
The Mommy Wants Vodka request line is open and ready for business.
Want me to tell you the story of…something? Give me a holler and I’ll do what I can. The only stipulation is that it has to be the story of something that actually happened, not some elaborate fantasy. My fantasy story would involve lots of prescription pills and naps. Not very exciting stuff, indeed.
Is the prospect of taking 2 kids to Disney World while The Daver is in meetings all day totally brilliant or totally stupid? Oh, those 2 kids are MY 2 kids, not random kids.
Anyone want to come with and help?
All of you lurkers who have come out from the shadows and said ‘Howdy’ to me have totally made my week. You people rock.
After a couple month hiatus from The Diet, I am back on the wagon and hungry as hell. Without those 10 extra nursing points, I’m damn hungry. Suddenly all of the foods that I cannot eat sound positively lovely because, well, I can’t eat them anymore. I’ve got about 20 lbs to lose before October, when my best friend gets married (Hi Ashley! Want to bring some stuff over for me to take to the Salvation Army? I could use a good pee-stained mattress or some cans of paint! It would make my garage sexy!).
Before you tell me that I can DO IT! Let me remind you that my thyroid hates me with a vengeance and would prefer that I were about 10 pounds overweight at all points in time. It’s like an insecure lover, trying to fatten me up to keep me all to itself.
I’m gonna try, but I can’t promise that I will be able to do it. Sorry, Ashley, I may be your pudgy bridesmaid after all. I’ll try to get some acne in the meantime so I’ll be the ugliest bridesmaid ever. You’ll be apologizing for me for YEARS to come!
After making a huge fuss over how stupid I thought Twitter was, I’m considering signing up. It will either be a glorious mistake or a great idea.
What do you think of Twitter?
I hate rainy days.