Tag Archives: issues

Before You Judge Me, You Need The Facts

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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!

Problems? Why Yes, I Can Provide Those

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It’s really too bad,  you know? I had a decent shot at being normal.  My childhood had all the ingredients to cook up a perfectly functional adult woman.  I spent my days running a successful lemonade stand on our dead end street, eating Leave It To Beaver family dinners, and following my dad around in sweet overhauls.  Growing up, I never had self-confidence issues, or body-dysmorphic disorder, or the desire to be a promiscuous teen, or to cut myself,  or to run away, or to be a rebellious troublesome child.  But then, later on, I had to start interacting with things other than caterpillars and sheep [blog soon to follow]…and more unfortunately, men.

That being said, I did some cleaning today and think I’ve figured out what my problems are after analyzing a few sections of my house.  I encourage you to do the same, because you’ll never believe what your freezer could reveal about you.

A. The Freezer:

1. I’m a cheap bastard with no self control, who will throw away the last three [and only] weeks of working out at the first sight of a 5/$10 Edys ice cream sale.

2. I’m lazy. I’ve been eating Eggo waffles since 8th grade. I mean, how long does it take to pour milk onto cereal? Apparently time that I am not willing to give up.  This also further proves point #1 under section B – I don’t like change.  What if I get something different and it sucks? That is a fate I’m not ready to accept.  Also, you’ll notice that my ice has formed into an indestructible mountain because I couldn’t be bothered to use any since my Christmas party last year.

3. I’m stupid. I believe that getting the “herb roasted chicken” TV dinner will somehow balance out the fact that I just polished off 5,325 grams of sodium… and most likely that bag of buffalo fries.

4. I am “Type A.” I have a bag of industrial size pre-cooked mini Italian meatballs on the off chance I need to attend a work potluck and forgot to pick something up.  Except I haven’t had a real job since November.

B. The Closet:

v-neck-sweaters

1. I don’t like change, nor do I make any attempts to accept it. Now, please draw your attention to the circled column of sweaters in my closet for a brief illustration.  These are not only all V-neck sweaters, but they are all from Express.. and they are all the exact same style.

2.  The left column is entirely made up of turtlenecks, which tells me I’m not only constantly freezing – but come wintertime I turn into a bit of  a prude.

I’m not exactly sure where my commitment-phobia stems from or the fact that I keep my blinds permanently shut, but I have more cleaning to do so there’s still hope that I’ll discover the answers.

Happy searching.