Before You Judge Me, You Need The Facts

You know, I feel like a lot of people make snap judgments about me. And it hurts. It hurts all the way from my chipped-nail-polished fingertips to my cold, blackened heart.  And when I hear these accusations, I cannot help but to curse the wretched stars, Carrie Underwood and the phrase “I heart it” for causing me to be so misunderstood in life.

I just don’t really know who else to blame.

But as long as you’re here, and I’m here, I thought we could have a box of wine and talk about our problems. But since I drank it all last night… I figured I could address some of your concerns instead. So, if you would, please sit Indian style and form a circle on the floor. If at any point in the demonstration you feel weird, it’s probably cus you’re wondering how you’re supposed to form a circle on the floor with just yourself. But please, try to focus on me cus we have bigger problems.

Accusation #1: I’m cray cray.

Well-thought-out defense: This is my father:

Like father like daughter. I’m just not quite as… shirtless.

Accusation #2: I’m lazy and have no desire to physically exert myself in any way.

Sort-of-thought-out defense: My friends coerce me into eating copious amounts of high carb-count foods in short periods of time, which spikes my glycemic index and causes lethargy.*

*fancy terminology compliments of WebMD

For example, I went on a girl date last weekend with my friend Dana to the apple orchard. Cus it’s fally and wonderfully out and that’s what we do in the Midwest.

sidenote: aren’t my friends cute?

Sidenote: aren’t my friends cute?

Disgustingly full and nauseated from the over abundance of sweetness from the apple pie a la mode before noon, we bought 2 dozen donuts. Then, as we’re about to leave, Dana sees a baked potato stand and says, “Oh, that will get the sugary taste out of our mouths.” That was the worst logic ever. But I’m not the logic police. The job didn’t come with a badge or a cool hat, so I was all peace out.

BONUS: this picture doubles as a handy tool to help you identify if you are an Italian (me) or a Mexican (Dana). If you choose jalapenos as your third potato topping, you’re Mexican. If you put onions on anything regardless of it’s a potato or not, you’re Italian.

Accusation #3: I’m a hot mess.

Obvious defense: None. But, you should just know that according to Lady Gaga, I was born that way. So, now I have to snap my fingers in your face and say get over it.

Accusation #4: I hate women, Neil Diamond, mayonnaise, smooth talkers and China.

Murky-but-still-valid defense: This can be traced back to the fact that I was born in a trailer park. If you’re unsure how the two are correlated, you probably didn’t attend college. Cus they would have explained it there.

So, to sum all of that up… you should probably feel bad about what you’ve done.

I have returned to blogging over at Celery and the City where I write about clean eating, healthy living and post allergy and gluten free recipes!

57 thoughts on “Before You Judge Me, You Need The Facts

  1. I think everything is now validated.

    “Like father like daughter. I’m just not quite as… shirtless.” That just lost half your male readership.

    “Sidenote: aren’t my friends cute?” I don’t know? She might be cross eyed under those giant sunglasses.

  2. I will judge you only if I can wear a robe and slam a gavel, as both of those things sound fun. Anyway, I judge you awesome. Anyone who disagrees with me can “suck my left nut,” as Kelly said.

    Unless you weren’t kidding about drinking all the wine. Then I will be seriously pissed…

  3. Thanks for the evening chuckle, and after living in a trailer park for the better part of ten years, I can completely understand the correalation.

  4. “You know, I feel like a lot of people make snap judgments about me.”

    Well, that’s probably why you and I are besties because people do the same to me. But I really think they make snaps judgements because they can’t quite figure me out, because they’re trying to place me into a ‘category’ but they can’t, so they think I’m CRAY CRAY.

    Which I am. But, I’m proud of that – HA!

    LOVE the photo of you and your friend Dana. What a great shot! You can tell you gals are good buds!

    “If you put onions on anything regardless of it’s a potato or not, you’re Italian.”

    Yup…you said it, girl! Italiano all the way!

    ADORABLE shot of you as a little girl. OMG….so cute you are!

    Great post, B!

    X ya!

  5. ‘Indian style’ isn’t politically correct. Seriously. All the four-year-olds say ‘Criss-cross applesauce’ now. I was shocked to find out. Speaking of four-year-olds, you were a cute one. And you NEVER share your wine with me. That hurts me. On the INSIDE. Where you can’t see. . .

    Anyway, I don’t judge. And yay for onions on EVERYTHING. . . unless garlic gets there first ;)

  6. The lethargy caused by “copious amounts of high carb-count foods in short periods of time” is the undoing of many. I can personally attest to that. A crazy and shirtless father doesn’t help either…just a guess on that one.
    Funny stuff as usual :)

  7. In this confessional circle you have created I am forced to admit that I still cannot put my pants on straight. Question: Are we to judge all your friends by the fact that you have shown us one good-looking one who you “claim” is your friend?

  8. As someone who is currently following a low carb diet (’cause I like torture) lethargy due to eating copious amounts of high carb-count foods in short periods of time, which spikes my glycemic index sounds kind of like a plan! Let’s do it!
    And yes, your friends are cute which might make me hate them a little…’cause I like to think I’m the fairest in the land.

  9. I’m reading this while in the car on the way to the Philly airport. Don’t worry, I’m not driving. I’m crazy too just not that crazy. I feel as though our childhood photos are vaguely reminiscent of one another’s. Something about those sweet athletic shorts made out of totally man made fibers and cut all wrong for a girl that look so cute. They were so uncomfortable but my mom got them for me too. Not sure how you stay so thin with all the carbs. Beware, the metabolism grinds to a standstill at 40.

  10. Every one of those facts just made you exponentially cooler. But then again, we’re twinsies – I already knew that shit.

    ps – how did you even muster the strength to leave the pie a la mode establishment in the first place? you’re stronger than me.

  11. I will fully admit to having made a snap judgement about you. i pretty quickly decided that you are awesome, hilarious, and i love you. Sorry?

    In other news, I get snappily judged all the live long day. Sometimes it annoys me (my staff apparently respect me less because I have fun on the weekends… wtf?), sometimes it amuses me (every time someone is amazed by my age… especially when I’m out having fun on the weekend ;) ), but pretty much I’ve just accepted it. I’m pretty open about my cray cray. People just have to take it or leave it.

    and now i am craving baked potatoes like woah. and pie. excuse me while i put potatoes on my grocery list and maybe some pie ingredients..

  12. “Then, as we’re about to leave, Dana sees a baked potato stand and says, “Oh, that will get the sugary taste out of our mouths.”

    Sounds like sound logic to me! Hmm potato! ;)

  13. You say cray cray . . . I say perfectly normal to eat your weight in carbs and finish an entire box of wine.

    It must have been your totally normal upbringing of binky sucking, high heel wearing, gym short clad, crooked clothed, trailer park living during your formative years. I mean, who wasn’t that girl, right? Hello? Anyone?

  14. I can’t believe I missed this post when it first showed up. I LOVE IT. And I also love that apple pie with ice cream and putting onions on EVERYTHING (except apple pie).

    The way I see it, onions and garlic and olive oil can make most things taste waaaayyy better than they originally tasted.

    Annnd…if you’ve happened to check out that picture of me from childhood on FB, you know, full well, that I to0, was a hot mess from birth.

  15. OK. I don’t care what people say about you Blunty, we’re still friends.

    And I would totally be all crazy and lazy and a hot mess (what do you mean I’m already mostly there?) if I had your metabolism. Happiness means potato bars and pie n’ ice cream before noon.

    PS I assume by your photo comments that you still put your pants on crooked. Bummer. At least you always had good shoe style.

  16. Onions?……Is that what Italians put on everything? I thought it was garlic, olive oil and pasta. Hey, what do I know….I’m part Lithuanian, Dutch, German and a whole lot of other gosh knows what’s in here. And it don’t get any more cray cray than that.
    As for you….I knew you were as beautiful as you are, way before I ever caught a glimpse of you in photos posted long ago (has it been years now?). And, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I love your writing and the way you think. And I love that dad of yours too. He reminds me of my dad.

    Wishing you a beautiful day ….

  17. athletic shorts. Question: Are we to judge all your friends by the fact that you have shown us one good-looking one who you “claim” is your friend? And, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I love your writing and the way you think. I can’t believe I missed this post when it first showed up.

  18. Well, that’s probably why you and I are besties because people do the same to me. Italiano all the way! Dude…you’re awesome! LOVE the photo of you and your friend Dana.

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