Monday, January 30, 2012

How You Feeling? Not So Hot!

This was me, yesterday...

I thought I was having a pretty good hair day (Correct me if I'm wrong, and I will stab you in the neck), so I took this picture--to use as a possible Facebook profile photo-- right before heading out the door for a day of obligatory family bonding.

About an hour after this photo was taken, a family member, who shall remain nameless because she may or may not have given birth to me (I'm still convinced that Sally Field is my real mother)---presented me with a jar of this...

...saying nothing more than, "Here!  Use this.  This company also makes a night creme.  When I go to the store with your sister, I'm going to buy you one of those, too." 

When I got home, I decided to look at my wall calendar---the one where I write down all of my important appointments---to check and see when my mother's last eye exam was. 

It was three years ago. 

THAT fact provided me with the tidbit of consolation that I needed to AVOID eating a pint of ice cream and a bag of potato chips in commiseration of my apparent hagginess.

The poor woman must have some huge-ass cataracts, y'all. 

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. 

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Slow & Steady Wins The Race...But, Legal Action Could Help

Yesterday, a man who I see five days a week, asked me, "Are you losing weight?" 

Cool, I thought.  All of my hard work is finally starting to show.

Proudly I replied, "Well, YES!  I'm actually working really hard at it."

Expecting a pat on the back or at least a somewhat positive response, he said, "Well.  You'd better not lose too much.  Men like women with a little meat on their bones."


If after all of this time, he has failed to notice how meaty my butt is? 

He should apply to the state for free medical benefits cuz clearly, he is severely visually impaired (or he could just be a crackhead). 


BLOG ADDENDUM:  I have a huge family.  Together, we are always celebrating something (with food, of course).  Despite all of the "family shindigs" that I've been attending, including TWO this past week, Operation Ass Shrinkage is still right on target.  This was the result of today's morning weigh-in:

Of course, I am extremely happy about my weight loss.  However,  I can probably get to my goal much faster if I hang this sign on my house:

This summer, I plan on wearing a bathing suit on a public beach.  I'm not opposed to using restraining orders against ALL of my relatives to get there. 

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Reunited, And It Feels Sooooo Good

Somebody once said (and I don't know who the frig it was), "You have to choose your battles.  Do you want to be right?  Or, do you want to be happy?"

I think about this quote often.  Mainly because?   I like being right.  And, I usually am. 

Around here, it's not very hard, people.

At work, my husband and a coworker, Jim, listen to music on satellite radio.  And all day long, I hear them saying shit like, "Dude?  Who sings this song?"  and  "Man!  This is OLD SCHOOL! When was this song released?" 

So yesterday, when the song "Reunited" came on, this was the brilliant commentary that I heard from my desk...

JimWow.  I haven't heard this song in a long time.

HubsBet you don't know who sings it!

JimYes, I do.  It's that Peabo guy.


JimIt' and Simpson.

HubsWRONG.'s...uh.......let me's that band that Philip Bailey sang in.


Me (yelling from the front office):  How about it's, I DON'T GIVE A CRAP?!!!

Hubs:  (yelling back) You're just jealous because I KNOW and you don't!  Hehe...

MeThis isn't a competition!  There are no prizes involved!


Me:  Who the hell is it, already!?  Put me out of my misery!

Hubs:  (sticking his chest out, all smug and shit)  IT CAME OUT IN 1979 AND IT'S SUNG BY A GROUP CALLED PEACHES AND CREAM! 

JimPeaches and Cream?  I never heard of them.

MeThat's because THEY don't exist, you DING DONGS!  The name of the band is Peaches & Herb!

Hubs:  *disbelieving stare*

MeYeah, that's right!  Who's smarter than me?  UHHHH...NOBODY IN THIS ROOM!  Bahahaha!

HubsDamn it.  Even when I'm kinda right, I'm wrong.

JimThat happens a lot around here.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

More Like A "Misfortune Cookie"

Last night, Hubs and I went to a great little Cambodian restaurant for dinner.  Totally aware that today was my Weight Watchers weigh-in day, I decided to have some tea and the Nam Yaa, which is locally referred to as "medicine soup."  It is absolutely one of the most delicious soups that I have ever tasted in my life. 

In it, there's sliced chicken breast, shrimp, carrots, cabbage, noodles, exotic spices like fresh lemongrass and ginger, and various other ingredients that make this spicy soup completely addicting.  Seriously, I could eat it a few times a week.

Nam Yaa (Medicine Soup)

When I was done eating my delicious soup, I felt completely satisfied.  And I thought to myself, "Sally Costa?  You made a great choice.  You ate something that you feel good about AND you didn't sabotage your day of healthy eating---even though there may have been a few things on the menu that almost swayed you in a negative direction  (I'm talking to YOU, Crispy Chicken Wings).  YOU ARE AWESOME."

Just then, the waitress brought us the check...and two fortune cookies.

Hubs opened his cookie first.  It said something about diligence leading to prosperity.

And mine? 

Well, let's just say that mine proved, once again, that the effin Universe is screwing with me....

The fortune cookie people are a-holes.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Let's Get Mikey To Try It!

In my constant quest for an incredibly shrinking ass, I often peruse the grocery store looking for new foods that are both healthy and tasty.  I'm a pretty adventurous eater and will try almost anything once, especially if it comes highly recommended by an outside party--whom I trust to have good judgement in the culinary realm.  We foodies stick together.

Because of my adventurous nature, I have been known to eat stuff that other people might find repulsive.  For example?  I love sushi...and I don't mean the typical cooked stuff.  No sirree.  That shit is for amateurs.  I love anything made with raw tuna, salmon, fish roe, eel, octopus, etc...The funkier, the better. 

I also eat raw oysters / little neck clams, brussels sprouts, periwinkles, spinach, salt pork, boiled dinners, and choice, y'all.  I credit my Mama for turning me into an adventurous eater because when I was a kid?  No foods were off limits. 

That being said, yesterday, when I was at the grocery store picking up a few things before heading home?  I saw this on a shelf in the canned goods aisle:

I immediately thought three things.

(A) Holy Niblets on a shelf!  WTF is that?!

(B) Canned wiener ain't cheap ($5.49)!

And (C) I am a foodie, but I will NEVER be that adventurous.

Even I have limits, y'all.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Good Thing I Prefer Ketchup

I am a good friend.  SCRATCH THAT.  I am a GREAT friend.

And I know this because of the way people speak to me. 

Yeah.  Apparently, I am someone who others feel extremely comfortable talking to about absolutely friggin anything. 

Like yesterday, when Lou  called to discuss a business related matter with me, and the conversation turned into this shitshow (Pun'll see what I mean in a second)........

Me:  Hello Louie!

Lou:  Hello!

Me:  How's it going?

Lou:  Eh. Alright, I guess.

Me:  You don't sound like yourself.  Are you feeling okay?

Lou:  I think I have a stomach bug or something.

Me:  Oh, yeah?  That's too bad.


MeOh, Sweet Lord.  Once again, LEW-ISSSS, you have crossed a very fine line. 

Lou:  You asked.

Me:  EXCUSE ME, but I ASKED if you were okay!  The correct answer should have been, "I think I have a stomach virus or something."  THE END.  I do not need to know that you are squirting WHAT LOOKS LIKE hot dog condiments out your ass. 


Like I was saying?  I'm a great friend....AND I'm a pretty good shoulder to cry on.....unless you want to talk to me about the texture and color of your bodily secretions. 

Then?  I kinda just want to punch you in the head.  Ugh.

Monday, January 9, 2012

"We Are Family. I Got All My Sisters With Me."---Sister Sledge, 1979

Happy New Year, Peeps! 

I'm officially back from my self-imposed hiatus (I'm like a poor version of Oprah!) and I'm ready to enthrall you, once again, with the details of my fascinating life (FYI---If you really think I'm fascinating, you need to get your ass out of the house more). 

Let me start with the answer to a question that I've been asked a bajillion times in the last couple of weeks.  What are my New Year's resolutions? 

In a nutshell, I have none

I never make any because I am smart enough to realize that the transition from December 31st to January 1st, does not make me a different person.  Just because the year ends one day and a new year begins the next day, that doesn't mean that I've suddenly become this profoundly changed person who will choose carrots over chocolateNot gonna happen, people.

That being said, I consider myself to be on a constant quest for peace and balance in my life (Oh, yeah...and a smaller ass).  This year, I'm sure that some days will be great.  But, I also know that some days will have me contemplating the stabation of several people in my life (Hey, Oxford English Dictionary!  I think I just invented a word!).  I do know that whatever happens this year, I'm taking you all for the ride.  You lucky, lucky bastards....

So, I'd like to kick my blogging year off by telling you a heartwarming story about my family---mainly, it's about me and my two eldest sisters.  After all, when you get to know my family, you will understand how they've helped to shape me into the person that I am today today.  Yeah.  Blame them.

Now, sit down, relax, and get your tissues ready.  I said, "heartwarming."  Remember?

Okay, so a few months ago, my sister--J, underwent a very serious surgical procedure to basically repair her guts or some shit.  I know that the surgery involved her bladder, intestines, colon, a net, some mesh thingy, tubes, blood, miscellaneous body fluids, saws, sharp blades, staples, and what my sister affectionately referred to as her piss bag.  Descriptively, that's the best I can do to explain it without barfing my multi-grain English muffin all over my keyboard. 

J's surgery took place in Boston, at one of the best hospitals in the country.  I knew she was in very good hands, but I still worried about her because (A) She's my sister and I love her, (B) She is diabetic, and (C) This was the third friggin time, in a short span, that she was having surgery to correct some major health problems. 

Thankfully, her surgery went well and within a few days, she was home recuperating. 

I spoke to her often, but waited a week before I went to see her at her house because I knew that she needed to rest. 

Finally, one day after work, I told her that I was coming to see her and I asked if someone would be there to let me in because I didn't want her wobbling around unnecessarily and shaking up her newly realigned guts.  She told me to come, and that her husband would be there to let me in.

When I got there, J had lots of company. 

Her husband was there.  Two of her husband's sisters were there.  My sister-in-law, F, was there.  And my sister, G, was there.  Together, we sat with J, in her living room and we talked.  She looked good.  She looked healthy.  She looked relieved that her surgery was over.

A few minutes into the conversation, my brother in-law's two sisters (they are in their 50's) started talking about how they sometimes pee their pants

I shit you not. 

They said that when they laugh a lot, they pee their effin pants

THEN they said that if they wait too long to go to the bathroom after getting the urge to go wee wee, they pee their flippin pants

THEN they said that sometimes when they sneeze or cough, they pee their everlovin freakin pants

The next thing you know, my sister-in-law chimes in and says, "Oh, yes!  That's very common.  It happens to a lot of women as they get older. That's why they sell Depends!"

Dudes.  I sat there in fuggin disbelief. 

I mean, I expected my sister, who just had surgery on and around her pee pee area to have to retrain her bladder and shit.  But, NO ONE told ME---THE WOMAN who still hasn't gotten over the fact that I'm in my effin FORTIES---that I should expect a time to come when I will be peeing my frickin pants eveytime I blow snot! 

WTF is this crap? 

So this means that in my future, I can look forward to hot flashes, growing a beard, and peeing my effin pants?! 


I sat there wide eyed...looking for some comfort...looking for someone to tell me that these were all lies!  Suddenly, I looked at my sister, G, who sat to my right.  I noticed that she wasn't chiming in.  In fact, she was being super quiet. 

Because she is my big sister, who is supposed to be there for me, comfort me, reassure me, and give me advice when I need her to, I looked at her with pleading eyes and frantically asked, "Hey?  Is this bullshit true?  Please tell me that THIS ISN'T TRUE!  Am I destined for adult diapers?  After a certain age, do all women pee their pants?   DO YOU PEE YOUR PANTS, TOO?!"

Without all of the compassion that a big sister should muster, she looked me in the eye, and said, "No!  And don't jinx me, you b*tch."  Hehehehehe....

My family.

They are a window to my soul....and clearly one of the reasons why I'm so awesome....or not.