“Why are all my facebook sidebar advertisements about weight loss??” says the woman eating straight out of a mostly empty bag of mini Nutter Butters.
So last week I went to girls camp with DynaGirl. It was all great, fine, whatever. The details are not important because the only thing I can think about right now is the t-shirt that got left behind.
I realized Friday evening as I was sorting my laundry that my sweats and favorite tee did not make it home. I must have left them in the bathroom that last morning. I tracked down the lady who came home with the lost and found box and recovered my sweats, but my t-shirt was nowhere to be found. I’m assuming since the sweats and tee were last seen together, someone must have “accidentally” decided to take my favorite t-shirt home.
In an effort to cope with this great loss, I have decided that whoever made off with my shirt of awesomeness must have been in desperate need of constant self-affirmation. So every day he or she will put on my t-shirt and look in the mirror and be able to go on living. I have decided my t-shirt is saving a life. Hopefully any guilt this person may feel over having acquired the life-saving t-shirt ill-gottenly will not weigh too heavily on their conscience, slowly driving them into the depths of insanity and despair. That would be an unfortunate turn of events. Most unfortunate indeed.
And now I’m going to take a valium and lie down for an indefinite period of time.
*Treasured friend and giver of the tee, please know that I cherished the time I had with this token of your affection and I will miss it forever. And ever.
So on my way to the store today I saw a dude with a “Homeless and Hungry” sign on the corner at my stoplight. Call me cynical, but I’m always a little wary of just handing over my cash, so I rolled down my window and offered him a bottle of water and an unopened box of crackers. He took the water but passed on the crackers, saying, “No on the crackers. I get a lot of crackers.” Really? A LOT of crackers? His sign should really say, “Homeless and sort of Hungry” or “Homeless and Hungry but not desperate enough for your stupid crackers.”
Perhaps if I had winked at him or something he would have been more receptive to my crackery charms.
Minding my own business.
BigHugs: Your teeth are kind of yellowish.
Me: Yeah, my teeth are kind of yellowish.
BigHugs: They’re like the color of pee.
All righty then.
You know those moments in life where you can either laugh or cry? I have never laughed so hard in my entire life.
While going through DynaGirl’s homework folder, I found this storyboard:
Me: What was this for?
DynaGirl: Oh, that’s just a rough rough draft of something.
Chuck handed me a section of the newspaper the other day and said, “I saved this for you.”
Headline: 2009’s swimsuits accept your imperfections.
“…moderate shaping to power control…”
“…stomach, rear, and side love-handles…”
“…skin oozes out elsewhere…”
“…don’t kid yourself that you can hide it…”
BigHugs: You have a hole in your undies.
Me: I do?
BigHugs: Yeah. I know, Mom! Next time we go to the store we can see if there are other big undies there that are your size. Is that a great idea?
Me: Big undies? Is that what I need?
BigHugs, smiling: Uh-huh.
Bonus thinking person caption.
Thinking person #6
Stop staring at me.
Happy Birthday, Susan!
So the other day I was blog browsing and came across this test over at Mary’s place. You plug in your blog’s URL and it measures your use of profanity and spits out a percentage. According to the cuss-o-meter, my blog is G rated—no cussing. I hate to admit it, but I was slightly disappointed. Here I thought I was all edgy and pushing the envelope of polite conversation. I’ve even been concerned at times that I might offend or corrupt someone, but apparently I’m wholesome. Wholesome! Harumph.
Here it is—proof of my piety:
Just for kicks, I thought I’d test out some of the blogs I frequent to see how they compare to my own wholesomey goodness. And the blogs I frequent, gentle readers, are yours. Yes, yours. There were some interesting results, which I will now publish here. Don’t worry, I’ve kept you anonymous to protect the innocent and the guilty.
Frankly, I was thinking this one was a little low.
I was kind of surprised by this one as I’ve rarely encountered anything I would consider to be off-color.
This one didn’t surprise me at all.
I think this one’s a wannabe rebel. Like me. Only a more successful one, obviously, with that half a percent.
So getting back to me, I’m curious if any of you are surprised by my results. Has my word choice ever given you pause? Am I your guilty pleasure? Or am I a regular Pollyanna? Is there no edginess here? Am I completely devoid of edges? This is for posterity, so be honest.