I am Homer Simpson

You see that gorgeous painting there, yes, the one with that fetching woman, with the gorgeous rack, and the most beautiful dog in the world! I know it is hard to believe two such beauties could be captured in one amazing painting!

Well, as some of you may know that woman is me, and that marvelous canine is my Little Lulu.

So what does this have to do with Homer Simpson?Well, remember the episode, in which Homer gave Marge a bowling ball for Christmas? It even had HOMER engraved on it!

Well, this was THE HUBS Christmas gift! He was so thrilled!

The whole HOMER gift is explained HERE!

The very talented and lovely Miss Gena Semenov is the person responsible for the painting! Please visit her site and you can e-mail her a picture and she can make you a portrait too!

Tweeterific

I apologize for being so lame and posting my greatest TWEETS, but if I try to write a proper post, my left eye will explode, no lie.


Follow me on Twitter, I'm : @SugarTwittes

• Just how BIG is my BUTT you ask? Um, my skirts are like 4 inches shorter in the back than in the front..that BIG!

• If I was entrepreneurial I would design dresses and skirts for BIG BUTT women that were longer in the back ...hmmm, genius

• I call HUBS dick wad all the time, he replies "UR the Dick Wad" I go: define "DICKWAD" he has no idea, aye mi Ricky Ricardo!

• Sex in the shower is never as sexy as it sounds; especially if you are wearing a shower cap- just saying

• Don't get me wrong, I love that people actually follow me, but I have 6 strip clubs following, have no idea why, could b I have sugar twitts?

• Maybe I will become friends with on of these strip clubs and throw the HUBS a B-day Bash there! World's Best WIFE trophy awaits me!

• Is Moose Munch (however yummy) supposed to make your ASS the size of an actual MOOSE?

• We usually watch ELF on Christmas Day, but with "The Hangover" being release, I think it will be the new family tradition, is that wrong?

• ate too much moose munch...must try and button pants, then roll home...

• Love it! B-O-O-B is a palindrome!

• Did you know that 2010 is the year of the Tiger in the Chinese Calender? um, FAIL!

• Do ever have those days where you just crack YOURSELF UP, all day long...but no one else seems to laugh?!

• Holiday Tip #5- make sure you have more gifts for your stinky teenage boys than for for your lovely princess Little Lulu (American bulldog)

• Holiday Tip #4- Remember, always deny to your hubs that you went to Target. Target is a black hole that sux up all his $ & 1/2 your day

• 
  Holiday Tip #3- if said lunch break was 1 hour, do not get "lost" in Target for 2.5 hours

• 
  Holiday Tip #2- If you go to Target because you have a $80 credit, do NOT spend $280 (specially if broke, like me)

• 
  Holiday Tip #1- If you go to Target on you "lunch" break, make sure you are NOT wearing a RED shirt!

So wrong, so VERY wrong

How can something that looks SO yummy be so wrong?

Yes, ladies and gays, I am talking about the hotnastyness that is Taylor Lautner.

I have held my tongue for long enough, my adoration for him has been silenced too long.

In here lies my dilemma: he is the same age as my youngest son. EWWWWWWWWWWWW!

So wrong, so very very wrong.

Now here lies my redemption. I have seen my kids friends, I have been to their school and I HAVE NEVER seen any kids that looks anywhere near as hot as Taylor Lautner. Because, if I was a teacher and Taylor Lautner was my student, I would so go all Mary Kay Letourneau on his fine ASS!

However the other day was a complete fail, as I was watching Entertainment Tonight and they flashed that picture on the screen, I let out a stifled cry "ugh, so wrong"

Of course my older son (who is 18) was walking by and quickly pointed out- "Mom, you know that kid is Stevie's age"

I screamed: I know so wrong, so DAMN wrong!

Greatest Christmas Decoration Ever!

One of my neighbor friends e-mailed this to me, I have not idea who did it , to give them credit, but OMG, who ever did this- You are a GENIUS! Please read the story below the picture!

"Good news is that I truly out did myself this year with my Christmas decorations. The bad news is that I had to take him down after 2 days. I had more people come screaming up to my house than ever.Great stories. But two things made me take it down.

First, the cops advised me that it would cause traffic accidents as they almost wrecked when they drove by.

Second, a 55 year old lady grabbed the 75 pound ladder almost killed herself putting it against my house and didn't realize it was fake until she climbed to the top (she was not happy). By the way, she was one of many people who attempted to do that. My yard couldn't take it either. I have more than a few tire tracks where people literally drove up my yard."

My Mother the FATTY

Lately much of my time has been spent rushing from my job to pick up my parents and accompany them to the endless doctor's visits my Mother has. This involves a lot of waiting in the waiting rooms, waiting in the lab, waiting in the exam room, the 3 of us just starting at each other.

Finally when someone comes in and starts asking questions, I am quick to answer, since you all know I am the National Director of Gossip (AKA busybody.)

Every time the nurse asks- How tall is your Mom.

I answer- 5 feet

Mom quickly pipes up: I'm 5'1 (in her dreams)

The nurse leaves the room, and we continue to talk amongst ourselves.

Dad: I want to know what tests they did in the blood work.

Me: OK Daddy, we will ask for specifics, what are your concerns.

Dad: I want to see if your Mama has anemia.

Mom: Anemia?! The way you are feeding me?! I know you are trying to fatten me up. I know you are trying to make me look like "La Beyonce" (this was in Spanish and even funnier can you can imagine)

I immediately fell to my knees I laughed so hard.

Of course, my Dad, who puts his hearing aid in, but turns it off because noise is annoying, says: WHO? Wha?

The nurse comes back in, she asks how much does your Mom weigh.

I answer 112 pounds. My Mom pipes in "not for long!"

Both my Dad and I crack up, the nurse just stares at us and walks out.

My Mom shows me the bruise on her arm, apparently they had a very hard time drawing blood for her in the morning, she goes on and on about how she has NO blood.

The nurse comes back in and tries to take her pressure, but she can't find the pulse.

My Mom turns to me and says: Oh boy, no blood in my veins AND no pulse! This might be more serious than I thought! I think I'm screwed.

I cover my mouth to stifle the laughing and bend over and whisper in her ear: Mama at least you will be safe from those pesky Twilight vampires.

She giggles.

Love and Marriage...pain and suffering

Just saying girls....just saying! December sucks, there is stress enough with Christmas, with out having husbands involved! Yesterday the hubs decided to drop of his car at the shop, well, 4 hours later, 4 tires later, brakes, spark plugs and synthetic oil, oh yeah, and $1500 later, he decides to call and tell me he did this. Hmmmmm, 3 weeks before Christmas, wow. No warning, no questions, just "oh yeah, btw"

Tiger Woods and his HOT ASS WIFE!

We live just down the street from Tiger Woods, about 3 miles away. He goes to the same gym the HUBS and kids go to, and you can run into him just about anywhere in this area.

Everyone likes him and he seems like an all around nice guy (not as nice as SHAQ, who lies down on the gym floor and lets people lie down next to him so you can measure just how insanely HUGE he is! *this is TRUE)

Anyway, when this whole crazy story broke, the first thing my step son said was:

-Oh yeah, my friend says he was at Blue Martini (a meat market for sugar daddies) and was drinking it up and hitting on all the girls on Wednesday night. (complete hearsay)

Hmmm, I had never thought about him that way, but then again, well, how shall I say this: HE IS A MAN.

Every time, they show the picture of his wife Elin on TV the 4 men I live with (ages 17-43) all say: She is so HOT, much HOTTER than those girls he is supposed to be cheating on.

So here is my note to Elin.

Dear Elin Nordegren Woods,

This has nothing to do with you, your role as a wife, lover or mother, or how beautiful you are, or if your boobs are saggy after 2 beautiful babies(Sam & Charlie.) It has nothing to do with weather you were to tired to have sex, or were not adventurous, or weather you nag, or pay more attention to your babies than you husband.

This is the hard part:

• 
  
  Do not feel ashamed


• 
  
  Do not be embarrassed


• 
  
  Never feel humiliated

You are not a laughing stock. No, not everybody knew and kept you in the dark, and you have NOT BEEN MADE A FOOL of!

Your husband, should feel all of the above. You can hold your head high and walk out the front door anytime you like, you can kick his ass to the curb, or you can forgive him and work on your marriage, that is your choice and your right as a woman, a wife and a mother. You are not a sucker if you choose the latter.

However, I found this photo on-line and if you want to do something like this, I support you as well!

Elin, I hope you have good girlfriends and your Mom is close by, if not, girl you give me a call, I will come right over, we can have a PJ party, with hot cocoa (spiked of course), we can laugh and cry and bitch and moan and in the morning you can either call a good ass lawyer or the best marriage counselor in town, you're going to need one of them sweetie!

Honey, you need to call Obama, right away

So, one of the medications my Mother is on sometimes causes her to blur the lines between reality and well - La La Land.

One day as I arrived at the Hospital, she stated as soon as I walked in:

Mom- Honey, I am so glad you are here! You must call Obama right away, this is very important!

Me- OK, Mommy what's up?

Mom- Well, I have been thinking. You know everything, everyone is always calling you and telling you everything and you know everyone and always know that answers to all the questions that everyone has.

Me (well this is true I DO know everything!) OK, Mom, why do you need me to call Obama?

Mom- Well, every area and family needs to have a person like you and I think he should appoint you to the position, you can be called "National Director of Gossip"

Me- WHAT?!?

Mom- oh yes, very important, that way if there is an emergency, they just call you and you will know the answers!

Me- Oh, OK, National Director of Gossip *how much would that pay*

Mom- well, if you don't like that name, you know Gossip might sound bad they could call you National Busy Body

Me- OK Mom, that's much better, I'll call him tomorrow.

So, as nutty as this sounds, if I think I can tell you exactly where it came from. She has nurses, doctors and rehab specialists coming in and out of her room all day long asking her questions non-stop. She gets confused and frustrated, she just wants them to call me, so I can take care of it, and it is true I do know everything, just ask the HUBS! ha!

New Layout- yipee

So, I found this nifty chart regarding BLOGS....and just in time for my brand new layout! While I love my blog, I am 100% sure my blog falls in the BIG PINK area of the chart. I mean, really where else would it fall, pink is my signature color! Tell me if you like my new layout....I think it is very ME!

I LOVE the Circus!

I have always loved the Circus, and of course many of my fantasies, to this day, involve running off with them, no, not as the FAT lady-smart ass!

Anyway, when my sisters were little girls, before I was born, they lived in Mexico City, and one day went to the Circus with my Dad. Well, the story goes a lady fell off the high wire, there was no NET and she died! I have always been obsessed with this story, can you imagine!?! Thankfully I was not born yet and therefore my love of the Circus was not tainted by the horrifying experience.

However, I came across this newspaper clipping....I almost died when I read it, it's funny, horrible and cartoonish all at the same time!

Not a Glamazon

I am not a Glamazon, I never really was...however I did have some standards:

• pedicures were a must
• I never went out with dirty hair, ever
• I only wore sweatpants in the privacy of my home
• If I was not wearing make up, I would throw on some sunglasses and put some lipstick on

More than once I remember seeing women in the market or the mall who were running around in flip flops with feet that vaguely resembles the wolf man's feet, unkempt and disheveled, and I would wonder to myself: What on earth is wrong with that woman? How can she leave her house like that?

Well people, it's called LIFE, LIFE is what more than likely has happened to those women. I have always been a busy working Mom and wife, however, always found the time to go to the salon, go to get waxed, etc, etc...add just one sick parent to that mix and ever thing flew out the window.

Saturday's was my Mom's nurses aide's day off, so I had to be there to help my Dad at 8:00am. I get up at 7am (an ungodly hour for the mother of teenagers, who has been sleeping gin every weekend for years). I pull on some sweat pants, flip flops and one of my husbands t-shirts, quickly shove a load of laundry in the machine and push start (thank goodness for the quick cycle) I run out the door to walk the dog. Back with the Dog, give her food and water, move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, and stuff a second load into the machine. Make coffee and grab and English muffin, my phone rings, my Dad needs me to pick something up on the way. Not time to shower, shove some clean clothes into a bag and assume I will take a shower at my parents a little later, which actully never happened.

As I am running around in WalMart, dirty hair, no make up, un-bathed, no bra, I look down at my feet and in a moment of horror I gasp...*ahhh* I'm that woman! I want to sit on the floor of WalMart and cry as I look at my toes, they look like 3rd world country homeless people feet (OK, that might be a tad of an exaggeration, but they are bad)

Instead I grab the generic size small adult diapers and run for the cash register, no time to sit and cry.

Dear Great Pumpkin, Hallo-wha?

If I was married to a man that did EVERYTHING I say (like I dream of everyday) then I would make him go as Mr. T for Halloween, because really, how awesome is this costume and who can get enough of running around saying "I PITY DA FOOL" all night long, besides Mohawks are so in!

Oh Great Pumpkin, I thank thee that my Children have gotten over the phase where they think "ghetto chic" is so cool.

Oh Great Pumpkin, orange and grand, please help the mother's of these little ones, specially the one that is grinding up on the other one with his tongue out.

And last put not least, I give thanks to thee Great Pumpkin, that I don't have a cat, because as far as I can tell from all those LOLZ things is that they are kinda of pissy and sarcastic, and really I don't need ANOTHER being in my life to feed and provide a roof for that gives me attitude...I like my dog, like my men- kiss my ass all the time


That's all for today Great Pumpkin, how about you cut Linus a break this year?

All I wanted was a backrub

Yes, you read her tank top right! It says: All I wanted was a back rub.

As I have been stressed lately, my neck and back have been chock full of knots and to top it all off I am having trouble sleeping, relaxing, etc...Now I do have the option of downing a bottle of wine every night, but hey, sometimes I beg the HUBS for a relaxing back rub.

Believe me people, if I had the time or money to get a professional to provide me with this much needed service I would, HOWEVER, lest you not be naive and think the HUBS does this out of the goodness of his heart, oh no honey, he charges me...

I wonder if I went to a masseur and tried to pay him in the manner in which the HUBS requires I pay, well, let's just say I would probably get arrested, as would the masseur and I would definitely report him to the Better Business Bureau, because that is just wrong.

More Tats, just for You!

Tattoos, what can you say. Some are BAD, some are good, some are AWESOME, and yet some are AWESOMELY BAD! Remember Only Judge Judy can judge ME and leave your comment below:

Nightmares Galore

So I am prone to nightmares, when I am stressed they seem to get worse and more frequent. This seems to greatly entertain my sister Coco, because in her whole life, she can only remember having 2 nightmares, and 1 of them involved our Dad in a fight with Dracula, the Mummy and possibly a werewolf.




My nightmares are very vivid and usually easy to figure out what they are about. However last night I had one of the most horrible and vivid dreams, it may sound so silly but I can't even think about it with out cringing and getting goose bumps every where.





If you are an expert, or just think you KNOW EVERYTHING (like me) tell me what your interpretation of my nightmare is.





I am looking at my lower legs and these hairs start to grow on them rapidly. Only they are not hairs, the are more like stems from a weed. Green and thick. I start plucking them one by one with my fingertips and they come out, leaving a pin hole in my leg each time. They keep growing back, bigger and thicker and each time I pull them out the holes that are left in my legs are larger and larger. When I pull them out it, it is like in slow motion, I see them slowly dragging through my skin. N-A-S-T-Y. It gets to a point in the dream where I can't pull them out anymore and my legs start to look like trees.





It made me think of Tree Man:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The HUBS does not think it is THAT BAD of a nightmare, my assistant (the black tongue girl) scrunches up her whole face when I talk about it and thinks it is the worst dream ever.

HELP?! Is this my usual craziness or have I gone of the deep end?

Spread the funny around

My Mom has always been funny, in the way where a person who isn't trying to be funny and doesn't even know they are funny. A side effect of stroke victims is that they lose affect in their voice and emotion in their faces. Which makes for a great comedic straight guy.

Funny stuff my Mom has said this week-

Someone is going to come help me with my nails and plucks those terrible whiskers tomorrow? (ya, Mom, me- I will bring all the stuff tomorrow) Good, because the last thing any woman wants is to be seen with those terrible whiskers, and any woman that doesn't care, well, something is wrong with that one!

I almost kissed one of the boys that works here (male nurses) he looks just like Alex (my son)

to my friend Joe (who was visiting his Mom, quite the coinky-dinky) Are you my friend? No? Good, so you work here. The food is horrible, you need to do something about it.

Apples make me happy, that's why I think they make me eat apple sauce all day long. It works, I'm happy.

You are so pretty (to me) you look just like a girl on the TV ( I turn the TV on) That's her! (the wife from the King of Queens.) I wonder if Oprah would have been on, if she would have said the same thing!

me: Mama, Tita (my sister's nanny) has a daughter in law looking for work, maybe she will come up to Orlando and help Dad and me take care of you.

Ma: OK, sounds good, but we have to find her a boyfriend, when you find them a boyfriend they always stick around.

me: MA! It's Tita's daughter in law, she's married to her son, we can't get her a boyfriend in Orlando.

Ma: Yeah, that would be BAD (and she totally cracks up)

The nurse comes in and when she leaves I ask my Mom what that nurses name is.

Her response- I can't ever remember, they should really tell me their name every time the walk in here- they know it!

me: they know their name? (which was a stupid thing on my part to say, but I am sleep deprived)

Mom: I hope so, because my memory is shot!

I'm reading her the menu for the next day- Mom, due you want the fruit cup or peach cobbler for dessert?

Ma: Fruit Cup, I think it will have less calories.

Me: Mom, eat what you want, you need to gain weight, the said you are too skinny.

Ma: Really? What a blast.(totally flat affect) peach cobbler.

Nurse walk in and asks me to bring her a chain for her glasses, so she won't lose them. As soon as the nurse walks out, Mom says: Your Dad is going to be so happy, he was always telling me to get one of those chains and now when he sees me with it he can say: I TOLD YOU SO!

A is for Alligators all around, B bursting balloons

When I was a little girl we lived in Silver Spring, Maryland and as many children in the 70's. I was obsessed with Maurice Sendak's book: Where the Wild Things Are, I also was crazy about In the Night Kitchen.

My mother is an artist, so most of the books she bought me as a child involved gorgeous illustrations, and she never worried too much about the content. I remember her telling me In the Night Kitchen was banned from some libraries because the boy was shown naked and something about nocturnal ejaculation (yes, she used those words.) Remember, this was coming from the woman who took me to the natural drawing class with the naked guy, per my post: LOOK MOM A NAKED MAN!

At some point between 1977 and 1979 Maurice Sendak came to White Flint Mall, which was a brand new fancy pants shopping center with a glass elevator that descended in to a water fountain, about 25 minutes from our house. My mother took me to see him. Mr. Sendak read Where the Wild Things are aloud and once he was finished I stood in line to meet him. He was seated and next to him was an easel with black sheets of paper on which he made each child in line a drawing with colorful chalk on the black back round. When we got home my mother sprayed hairspray over it so that it wouldn't smudge. I put it under my bed, as it was the only place it could fit with out being folded. I would pull it out every night and imagine I was Max in a far off land being hero, dancing around a fire with my new found fierce friends.

We moved houses and countries, states and schools at least 10 times since I had that drawing under my bed, and of the things that I lost and were broken or ruined in the moves, that is the one thing I regret the most. Last night, I told my Mom about the movie coming out and how I was taking my boys to see it. I asked her if she remembered taking me to the Mall, she didn't, but she also couldn't remember what she had for diner 10 minutes ago.

Instead of focusing on my my childhood, I told her about how I bought all the same books for my boys, how to this day can still sing every damn song from I'm really Rosie, and make a different voice for every monster, and can make the 'weeeeeeeeeeeeeee" sound for 30 seconds when Mickey slides down to the Night Kitchen. So tomorrow night, after I leave the hospital I will take my boys (now 18 & 17) to see Where the Wild Things Are, and I am sure I will cry my eyes out, and one day down the road they will buy these same books for their kids, and then I will be able to dance around and sing and play all thanks to Mr. Sendak and my mom the artist.

We need a MAN in this house

Last night as I lay in bed with my husband, with a 70lbs dog-goddess sprawled out between us, feet in my face and her cuca inches from the Hubs right ear, the ceiling fan starts making a terrible sound.

This is of course at 10:30 at night, after we each have worked 9 hour days, I have walked the dog, he has gone to the gym, I have spent 3 hours at the hospital with my Mom, he has made dinner and barked at the kids until the cleaned the kitchen and set the table, so we could eat at 8pm when I get home. The ceiling fan sound was almost as bad the groaning the DVD-surround sound system started making the minute we sat down to watch season 4 of Weeds after diner.

The Hubs lets out a long sigh and says: We need a man in this house. A man that can fix things, fix the fan and the DVD, and the hole in the attic where my foot fell through, and screen and the pool pump too.

I chime in: We need a WOMAN in this house. A woman who cooks, and cleans

HUBS: oh! a woman that likes to have sex, like every night!

the only logical response: Um, yeah that woman, can have sex with the man that fixes things.

With that I rolled over and went to sleep, only to hear the HUBS say: Lulu, get your Cuca out my face!

ahhhhhhh, love and marriage....

How did I get here? Where's my phone?

See that boy flying through the air, that's my boy, my baby. Well this same boy was at Vans Skate Park on Saturday for his buddies B-day and was jumping and skating and flying through the air, with FULL protection on (unlike this photo, which I did NOT take and wasn't present at) well, the boy fell and whacked his head hard (yes, he was wearing a helmet.)

I am at the Hospital on the other side of town with my Mom, where I am now every day for several hours a day, when his friend calls me and tells me Hairy has hurt his leg. My response is so-and-so put Hairy on the phone!

baby hairy: Mom, I hurt my knee

Before you all judge me for being BITCH mom of the year, this happens like 3 times a week, calls with whining and complaining that usually end up in pleas to buy soda and burgers.

me: baby hairy, I am at the hospital with Grandma on the other side of town (pissed off tone)

baby hairy: WHAT?! Grandma's in the hospital? Why is she in Orlando?

me: baby hairy, put so-and-so back on the phone. So-and-so, get an adult employee from Vans and sit with him I am on my way to take him to the hospital.

So, baby hairy had a concussion, CT scan was fine.

Did you know that when people get a concussion they have memory loss and ask the same 6 or 7 questions over and over and over and have no memory of doing so.

It was very scary, for the first 3 hours, once the doctor said it was normal and would probably wear off after 12 hours and rest it became the MOST ANNOYING THING EVER.

Stinky long haired 17 year old repeating these questions ever 3 minutes for 10 hours (apparently he drank a shit load of Mountain Dew at Vans and was not sleepy at ALL)

How did I get here?

Did I bump my head? Wasn't I wearing a helmet?

Ow, my knew hurts, oh no did I rip my jeans?

Where is I pod touch?

Did anyone see me fall?

Where's so-and-so?

Do you have my phone?

oh, my head hurts.

At one point you start to wonder if they are messing with you, I mean, they all after all teen aged pain in the ass boys. When he over hear us talking about Grandma in the hospital, he was so alarmed, and asked what happened. When I told him she had a stroke and an brain aneurysm, his eyes welled up with tears. That's when I moved him to my room (so he wouldn't over hear any one's conversations) with plenty of food (and beer for me) and we watched TV and I answered his questions over and over until he fell asleep.

ahhhhhhhhhhh, the joys of motherhood never end

The Power of my Cuca

On Friday morning I was watching the Today show when they announced that President Obama had won the Noble Peace Prize, of course I squealed with joy at the exact moment the hubs was walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

I told him the news and his response was "That's great, maybe the Republicans will shut up for a few" then he dropped the towel and started to dress.

Just then as I starred at his perfect ass, I thought to myself: Girl, you done good!

Look at that man, after 19 years of marriage still wearing a size 32 pant, looking all hot, and he is now your perfect political match. Seriously, what more could you ask for.

When I married my husband he was a republican, a conservative one at that. What can I say, the power of my cuca brought him to the light. It has helped his brain expand, his social conscience to develop, etc, etc, etc....hot damn, I gots a powerful cuca!

Friday Mish-Mash

• I haven't been blogging, not because I don't have anything to say, but because everything I have to say is depressing and I don't want to talk about it.
• My assistant is going on vacation next week, the whole week, I think I might DIE, no joke.
• My 18 year old son FINALLY got his license to drive (miraculously on the first TRY!)
• He asked me when I was getting him a car, ha-ha , as if getting a license means someone is supposed to just give you a car. Silly rabbit, get a JOB!
• My baby/dog Lulu is in Heat, it is her second heat, we need to wait 'till her 4th to breed her. My husband thinks we are keeping 1 girl puppy, but we are going to keep 2 and I am going to name them: bambi and buttercup, I can hardly wait to be a GRANDMA!
• I am working on a plan where I will be a stay at home dog mama, any suggestions on how to make this happen?
• My youngest cried the whole time he was with my Mom this week and every night after, he doesn't want to talk about it (hmmm, I wonder where he gets that from)
• They made my Mom put her make up on in occupational therapy, she kind of looked like a Latina Tammy Faye Baker.
• She was pissed because she didn't remember doing it herself and thought one of the nurses had done a pretty lousy job! ha-ha
• She keeps on saying she has cash in the pocket of her orange purse, we need to tip $50 to each of the nice girls who are helping her (the therapists and nurses)
• I need to tell my Dad to bring the Orange purse when he comes (just in case there is a wad of money in there, you never know)

My kind of BFF

I call my friend on Friday at about noon to see if she wants to go to lunch.

Her- *hack*hack* hello
Me- Hey what's up
Her- I am SO sick
Me- Really?
Her- I'm dying
Me- hmmmm, did you go to bed really late last night?
Her- yeah
Me- Did you drink a shit load of vodka?
Her- um, yeah
Me- Sweetie, you're not sick, it's called a HANGOVER
Her- HA-HA-HA (not a real laugh, but a sarcastic she thinks I'm a bitch laugh)
Me- And YOU of all people should know this by now: H-A-N-G-O-V-E-R

This is what happens when your husband and kids go out of town- WE BREAK OUT THE VODKA!

More badness

Of course now that I said I was going to post all the Ring Leader Badness I have magically wiped my memory of them...actually the only one that keeps coming up is almost too embarrassing to post. ALMOST...

When I was 16, my curfew was midnight (completely unacceptable) one of my besties older sister was getting married and it was the social event of the season, all which made it totally insane that I had to be home at midnight. Hence the old switcheroo, my girlfriend Rocio and I each told our parents we would be spending the night at each other's house, that's as far as the plan got.

We got all dolled up for the wedding, we were looking UBER hot, big hair and tons of make-up. We drank and danced all night, well up until 2:30 am when the wedding party was over and then there we were standing in the street like total morons. At least we were not alone, I mean we each had an adorable boyfriend on our arm. Where do we go, what do we do? At 2:30 am in a small city like, um, NOWHERE.

Finally Rocio's boyfriend hatches a plan, this is where it get weird, stay with me. His name is David, his Dad adopted him from Vietnam and lived with his father in an Orphanage. Yes, you heard right, There was the main house, where David's Dad lived, David had a small apartment above the house, with it's own entrance (he was 18) and then there was a huge building on the property which housed about 150 boys, mostly kids that had been street urchins (very common in Latin America.) David proposes we go to his apartment, but we must be very discreet, because his Dad's only rule is NO GIRLS. We all agree, that we will hang out there and then leave about 5:30 and go to breakfast. Of course we get to the apt and with in 10 minutes we all fall ASLEEP! I swear, this is the truth, no one had sex (that night.) David wakes up in a tizzy at 7am and we all rush to find our shoes and leave.

Now this is the worst part...we are creeping across the lawn, smudged makeup all over our faces, pantyhose with holes in them, carrying our shoes in our hands, messed up hair and scrunched up party dresses. All of a sudden I hear cat calls, wolf whistles, boy's laughing and hooting it up. Nothing like having 150 orphans boys screeching "woot-woot, someone got lucky last night"

Now, I never had to do the walk of shame in College, as I was already married and had a child by then, but I can't imagine it would be any worse than the night I spent at Mi Hogar (IE an all boys home.) I included the link so you can see the actual lawn the walk of shame took place on!)

Here is an actual picture of that night. Rocio is in the copper dress, David is the guy in the red bow tie, I am in the black top, but you can;t see my face because I am kissing my then boyfriend on the cheek. Please note the bottle of Scotch on table!

The QUEEN of Bad Ideas

I am the Queen of Bad Ideas. Remember when you were a kid and would get busted and the teachers and parents would talk about the "Ring Leader" and how this person had come up with the bad idea and then made everyone else go along with it....well, see, I AM the Ring Leader.

I was always the one thinking up the stunts, pranks and all around stupid stuff that got us all in trouble. This week I will dedicate my posts to list all of these incidents starting back as far as I can accurately remember. There are instances that I have heard repeated by my family that I don't actually remember myself, like the time I slipped out the hotel room, stripped and was found posing in the nekkid on a coffee table in the hotel lobby. I was easy to find, as the followed the trail of my clothes. I was 3 and already exhibiting exhibitionist tendencies. This one doesn't count, since I don't remember.

Granted, they will get worse as the weeks go on, because seriously, the trouble you got in in the 3rd grade can't possible compare to the trouble you can get into when you 17, can drive and are drinking, just saying. I will spare the names of my accomplices, which after the 8th grade were mostly boys, as I could no longer get girls to go along with my cockamamie plans and pranks. Boys always seemed much more open to being bad, and more willing to do what I said (this still hold true to this day.)

Brownies- the few short weeks, before I was kicked out.

Strike 1- refused to do the sewing project for the badge, mostly just sat and chatted with the other girls while they sewed. One poke in the finger with a needle was enough for me.

Strike 2- stole a box of Nilla Wafers and a pitcher of Kool-Aid and ate them as fast as we could, just for shits and giggles and then chugged the Kool-aid, come snack time, there was none (that was bad) then my little accomplice went home and threw up red goo (thought it was blood and she was dying) and confessed to her Mom on her death bed. Of course I too threw up red goo, but had the good sense too keep it to myself, that was proof the Brownie Leaders needed to nail us (like the kool-aid mustaches weren't enough???)

Strike 3- Went camping to a lake overnight. In my defense, we were sold a whole lot of hooey! We were told it was going to be FUN, swimming, dancing, singing by the campfire and "Smores and more 'Smores. Well, there was no mention of, clearing ground for the tents, gathering water to boil, gathering fire wood, pitching the tent, digging a latrine, yes, let me repeat digging a latrine (in the 4th grade) and then they decided it was too cold to swim. Awwww HELL to the NAH, snuck off (got at least 2 girls to go with) ditched the chores and went swimming in our clothes, then my brilliant plan was to say "we fell in the lake, whilst gathering water" apparently the 35 minute dip, the laughing, screaming and playing gave us away. Aslo in my defense, as I told my parent later, at least we didn;t go SKINNY DIPPING! jeez....

Your out of the Brownies!

3 sisters make a pact

On the Saturday night I got the news my mother was ill, I cried, I bought an airline ticket on-line and then I started to pack.

This was hard:

• I was scared and emotional
• I had no idea what clothes actually still fit me in my closet and now was not the time to start trying crap on
• I needed comfortable, but presentable, you know all the old biddies will show up at the hospital and you have to at least have clean hair and NOT be in sweat pants
• I wasn't sure what the weather was like in Guatemala and was too frazzled to check weather.com
• I wasn't sure how long I would be there
• I had to pack some black clothing, a dress, a skirt, a top, panty hose and shoes.

I shoved the black items in my suitcase, thinking how unreal the whole situation was. My Mom was the healthiest person I know, works out EVERYDAY, does yoga, stands on her head for 30 minutes, doesn't smoke or drink and eats super healthy....STANDS ON HER HEAD!

As soon as my mother was able to open her eyes and mouth words, she wanted to shower and shave. Now this shows you the what is truly important to ALL women. We knew this before hand and had her make up bag, her favorite scent and a tweezers at hand. I had been carrying the tweezers in my purse since day one. You see women (all women, don't you lie) get strange hairs that appear overnight. Sometimes it's just one on your chin or your neck, but that one hair will drive you BATTY.

I did not want to simply go in there and start plucking away at my mothers face when she was unconscious, but lo and behold it was her first request oce she could formulate words.

We knew she was paralyzed on her left side (her leg and arm) but we were not sure about her face, so as I am plucking the few stay hairs from the left side of her face I ask "Mommy, does that hurt?"

Her answer: OBVIOUSLY

We all bust out laughing, my middle sister comments "yeah Mom, all this waxing and shaving and plucking is a big pain!"

Mom states: but necessary!

We all laugh again, that night as we ride the elevator down to to parking garage the 3 of us make a pact: This is the 3 sisters pact

No permission is needed, I don't care what sate I am in, one of you 2 will pluck my hairs, comb my hair, slap some make up on me and make sure I am damn presentable, if only for the nurses and doctors.

Fat Trifecta

So I am not even going to mention how much weight I have gained...it is OBSCENE. Let's put it this way, I have NO right to call my BLOG Former FAT Chick....no right at all!

I will let you get a visual of how bad is has gotten. The other night I pulled out a pair of jammies and went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth and get in to my jammies. I went to pull up the silk pajama shorts and UGH!!! they would not go over my big ass THIGHS. That's right ladies and gentleman I am TOO Fat to fit into my pajamas! Seriously, not my skinny jeans, not some tight hot pants, my DAMN pajamas, now if that is not a SLAP in the face I don't even know what is.

I am calling it the FAT TRIFECTA- (otherwise know as my excuse as to why my ass is the size of a Clydesdale horse)

1. The damn lap band which had been my best friend and savior deiced to try and kill me (that bitch) by eating it's way in to my stomach, resulting in major surgery and 3 weeks in bed.
2. Simultaneously my thyroid decides to REVOLT (probably for all the times I lied and said I was fat because I had thyroid problems) well that bitch decided to sprout some nodules and stop working (16 weeks on medication and that there is NO controlling that one.)
3. Let's add to this my mother's illness. I am a eater on any given day, but if you add stress, fear, anxiety, depression and lots of crying, well, we all know those things can only be cured by the following: cake, cookies, ice cream and BOOZE, lots of booze.

The day my mother had her surgery I sat in the Hospital form 7am until midnight, and think the only reason I did not EAT myself to death was:

• there was no all you can eat buffet (thanks goodness or I would have been hospitalized for a ruptured stomach)
• I had no local currency, so I had to make friends and family buy food for me all day

I am back home now, my Mom is doing better and we are bringing her to Orlando for in-patient rehab.

I wouldn't say I am on a diet, but I am back to eating like a normal person (OK, maybe a normal sweet tooth), I have decided to cut back on the alcohol (except Saturday night I had 3 mojitos, but I danced, ALOT!) and I am going back to those PAIN in MY ASS Pilate's classes starting this week....

Stay updates to find out if my damn pajamas ever fit over my giant ass again....

Life

I was a soldier, I was in combat, I was shot, and returned to battle a couple of months later. One time I was face to face with an enemy combatant and he fired his pistol 2 feet from my chest, I heard his weapon click, it misfired, that gave me time to pull out my weapon and shoot him point blank. From behind me, I heard my commander yell “run, run, get the Hell out of here!” Three days later I was captured and held prisoner for 32 damn months. Darling all that put together is nothing compared to these last three days.

My father has said this to me twice since I have been here, his eyes well up with tears every time, he is not exaggerating, he is dead serious when he says he would die without my mother.

My parents have been married over 50 years, my father no longer knows how to exist without my mother, how to breath, how to eat, how to wake up and get out of bed in the morning if she is not by his side. His thoughts are not so much incoherent, as they are irrelevant if she is not there to hear them and share them. Nothing makes sense to him if she is not here. This is painfully clear to me and to him, and he has told me more than once in these last few days. This is a fact that truly freaks out my poor sister, since she was alone with the first 24 hours that it took me and my oldest sister to make our way to Guatemala from Florida, and she alone bore the brunt of the immense anguish my Dad was in.

My mother had a brain aneurysm Friday night just after midnight, I was not able to get here (Guatemala) until Sunday at about 9pm. She had a stroke sometime Sunday night and was put in a medically induced coma on Monday morning. Before she was put under she would grab my father’s hand and say “Thank you, thank you for staying with me” The old man’s response was, where else would I be? I have always been here and will always be here. My Mom is 70 (Mom, if you are reading this, I’m sorry for revealing your age, I’m sure you’re not thrilled about it, but if you are able to read this then I couldn’t ask for anything more) my Dad is 75, he is a man and doesn’t mind revealing his age. He and I are big cry babies, so it is not as shocking to see his eyes tear up, as let’s say as some other men who never cry. What is shocking is the fear that was there the first few days where as he repeats to me frequently was touch and go, he shakes his head and says I almost lost her, I almost lost her.

We go back and forth from the Hospital to the house all day, and we gather little bits of good news, she opened her eyes, she moved her right hand, she wiggled her left foot, she responds to verbal commands, she squeezed my fingers, we removed the ventilator, she breaths on her own, she said Mama and she said Papa! This is not how I think of my Mother on a regular basis; she is as strong, willful woman. Smart, disciplined and daring. Now we are brought to tears of joy and relief because she said mama, our lives changed forever, none more so than her's and my father’s.

look a like

To say that the HUBS looks like Kevin Dillon would be an understatement. Wait, looked like(a million years ago), now not so much. Back in the day, there was a little movie called Remote Control starring Kevin Dillon, the whole movie he ran around in a black leather biker jacket. The hubs had the exact same jacket. Last Sunday, he confessed while watching Entourage, that he came home late one night (wearing the jacket) and turned on the TV and stood there starring at the screen. He thought it was him and was wondering WTF he was doing on TV! It took him a minute to figure out what was going on.

I have to go home and look for a better (old) picture of my hubs, preferably in that leather jacket.

When I was pregnant, before anyone really knew I was pregnant and we were planning to elope, HBO would play this sappy movie called "Immediate Family" where you guessed it, Kevin Dillon (in the same jacket) knocks up his girlfriend. I used to watch this movie over and over and cry and cry and cry. My Mom would ask "What's wrong?' NOTHING *waaaaaaaaaaa* I would scream! Like pregnancy hormones aren't bad enough, imagine the same hormones in an 18 year old.

Well, in 3 days I will have been married to my little Kevin Dillon look a like for 19 years, you all can send me gifts for that too, I mean if you want to, but I am still waiting for those SHOES!

Who does the Internet think I AM?

So, most of you now know I have a weird name, first and last, this blog started out as something anonymous, but well, not anymore.

The problem with my name: Ylla, is well, that sometimes people do not know if I am a man or a woman (not in person, in person you can tell I am a woman) and I get some strange e-mails, which reminds me of a funny boob story, when I tell people I started going to bars and clubs at 15 people ask: Didn't you get carded? I always say "yeah, I had I (point to right boob).D (point to left boob.)" ha-ha, the power of boobs is awesome. Anyway back to the original story.

I think the Internet thinks I'm a man, a man in need to enhancement in the pipirichi area!

Wait thinks I'm a BALD MAN?

Thinks I am an OLD (ish) BALD SINGLE MAN?
I'm totally screwed! Wait...

OK, OK, the Internet thinks I am woman, and that I go to the gym?!? ha-ha, silly Internet!

Wait, a woman that gives a crap about LAUNDRY! hahaha, right!

Wait, the Internet, she knows am a woman now, a girl blogger and she thinks I want to make money off the Internet?! What the HELL does she think I blog for? Jeeez, I've already made $24.87 from AdSense and it only took me 12 months!

Last but not least, the Internet exacts her final revenge on me: she sends me this...BITCH knows I can't afford those Manolo Blahniks! She just wants me to suffer in my Nine West pumps...unless she is sending me a sign, yes an Internet sign, she wants me to HAVE these shoes, she knows I DESERVE these shoes, she wants ONE of you (a rich one) to send me these shoes (size 8.5), you can get them on-line at Barney's with complimentary free shipping.

We MUST obey the Internet(specially you.)

LOL Bush

I know this isn't exactly current or anything, it just really made me laugh. The look on W's face is priceless...I almost miss his silly anticts and Bushisms...NOT

Friday Mish Mash

I love Google, what on earth did we do before the Internet. For example, if let's just say, you had to find out why someones poop is bright green, what did you do before the Internet? Did you call your Mom? The Doctor, or just suffer in agony thinking something was very wrong with you. Well it turns out that bright green poo can be caused by eating a BOAT LOAD of Jelly beans or Skittles. Now, all I am going to say is that the producer of the bright green poo eats about a pound of candy a day, but said person also runs 7 miles, 6 days a week, so said person can get away with eating 3 pounds of candy a day, but was freaked out by the glow in the dark green poo. It is obviously not me, I will only run if some with a knife is chasing me, and then I would consider just laying down and letting them kill rather than wasting my time pretending I could out run a knife wielding maniac.

Last night I had a dream that I was dating Mathew Mcconaughey, but he wasn't famous. He was really nice and we were going to buy a nice new house together. Oh, and I had a little brother and Mathew was so sweet to him. I think the dream was more of a fantasy of getting a new house, rather than dating Mathew. I mean he isn't even on my 10 ten list.

Here is my top ten list, it changes all the time.

My Top 10 lest of Hot Ass Men *in no particular order

1. Alonzo Mourning (I have met him in person a couple of time and OMG)
2. Dwayne Johnson- The Rock
3. Dennis Quiad
4. Ryan Reynolds
5. Jason Statham
6. Jeff Goldblum
7. Carlos Ponce (have met him too, oh my...drool)
8. Ryan Gosling
9. David Beckham
10. Eric Bana

Ladies and gays, if you do not know who any of these men are I encourage you to look them up on Google Images, deliciosos!

Going to see Inglorious Bastereds as a family tonight- ahhh, wholesome family time

Is it wrong that I yelled at a lady on 1-4 yesterday "Lady! You're a f*cking Maniac" with my oldest in the car? Wait...before you judge me

1. My son is 18
2. She seriously almost killed us
3. It was so bad my son actually took off his Ipod and said "Dude, that lady needs to learn to drive"
4. Is it wrong that my kids call me Dude?

Happy Weekend!

Let's talk about the A.D. the H and the D.

Yes peoples, this post is about ADHD. My husband has a delightful way of putting it when people ask what is ADHD. He tells them "you know that movie 50 First Dates? Living with her is like that movie, but it's not funny and she isn't Drew Barrymore"

I laugh every time, it's true, except the funny part, I think it's hilarious and Drew Barrymore wishes she had my Big Mama Boobies!

The day my kids saw the Disney Movie Finding Nemo, they started calling me Dory. That's when I knew it was BAD, I mean really bad. When an 11 year old states that you are comparable to a fish who is distracted by shiny objects and can barley remember her name, you know it's bad. Before then I just thought I was a scatterbrain, chatterbox, cockamamie, spaz.

Oh, ADHD stands for Attention Defecit Hyper Active Disorder. The Hyper part kind of fades when you are an adult, and become more fidgety, restlessness stuff. Like the time I was asked to go home and not server on Jury Duty because I couldn't sit still and had to go to the bathroom all the time.

I did realize that I have an odd behavior steming from being an ADHD child, I sit on my hands all the time, sometimes I sit on one hand and type with the other. It took me a while to figure out why I sit on my hands all the time, then one day it hit me. Teachers used to make me sit on my hands all day long, so that I wasn't Miss Fidgety.

The impulse control gets me all the time, I think it is one of the things I have worked the hardest on, I am pretty sure I am much better. I no longer blurt things out as much as I used to. They would be like verbal regurgitation, just BLAH, out there in the world, before my brain was able to make a judgment on weather it was appropriate or should be worded in another way. I don't take medication (it made me sick) but I made tons of modifications and use little tricks that help a lot (see CHADD.ORG for more info)

I know tons of people out there think they have ADD or ADHD, or their kids do, see a professional (a psychologist or psychiatrist can diagnose you) and go see a Neurologist. They can run a scan and you will actually see where the misfiring are in you brain, it's cool, it looks like some one sliced you down the middle and you can see inside. If you are diagnosed there at plenty of tools and not all of them require medication. Also, keep in mind that people with ADHD are 6 times more likely to have: learning disabilities, Tourettes Syndrome, Bi-Polar, Anxiety, and Depression. Scary huh? 25% of people who have ADHD parents do as well.

It's not all bad, this is a list complied of traits common to people with ADHD

Good Things About ADHD -Thirty individual ADHD aspects

1) Unlimited energy

2) Will try any thing

3) Good conversationalist

4) Needs less sleep

5) Good sense of humor

6) Very caring

7) Do Spontaneous things

8) Notice things that other people don't

9) Understanding of other kids

10) Can think of new ways of doing things

11) Likes to help others

12) Happy and enthusiastic

13) Imaginative - creative

14) Sensitive - compassionate

15) Eager to make new friends Great

16) Long-term memory

17) Life and soul of any party

18) Charming

19) Warm and loving

20) Protective about families

21) Inquisitive

22) Doesn't hold a grudge

23) Quick to forgive

24) Genuine

25) Never boring

26) Perceptive ways to do things

27) Playful

28) Honest

29) Optimistic

30) Inventive

Just thought I would run a PSA today...

Dear Body

Dear Body (men stop reading now) Dear chubby, bloated, starting to sag body,

I know that you are designed to menstruate (ugh) every month (even though I haven't had a baby in 17 years, you think you would have taken the hint) and I can forgive you for this transgression. What I simply can NOT and will not forgive you for is the following:

• the SALT cravings, extra salty popcorn, chips and nuts (why not just buy a salt tablet and lick it like a horse?)
• followed by the sugar and carb craving (can you say pancakes smothered in syrup, food of the gods?)
• even BIGGER boobs and they hurt (nice touch)
• the ridiculous pains (like birthing an alien from each ovary)
• the bloating (yeah, because I don't feel fat enough!)
• the runs (WTF? why?)
• and to make life complete: The Migraine headache

I want a letter from you by 5pm on my desk with a full explanation of your actions, if not, you are SO FIRED! I am not kidding, I am sure I can find some wacky Dr. willing to rid me of you and by you I mean the reproductive portion of you (can you say hysterectomy?) and I will simply replace you with a patch BITCH. What do you think about that!?

See you at 5pm!

P.S. Please note I did not mention the crying and mood swings, as I can't totally attribute those to solely you, there is that whole craziness thing.

Sexting

OK, this post isn't really about sexting....it's just that the other day that my post was called: Big Mama Boobies...um, I got like 3 times the hits I usually get, and I felt like the popular Queen BEE in NYCPrep (you have to watch this show, the douche-bagery is EPIC) and LOVED it...so I am thinking of either having provocative titles or all of them be BIG BOOBIES, just a thought...let me know what you think of that.

This post is really about just plain texting while you are driving, which should be called STUPID ON WHEELS.

This is where it pays to have a tattle tale...every family has one, it's usually the favorite child (yes, if you have more than 1 there is a favorite) You can pretend you're the Mother of the Year and love all your kids equally, we are not talking about LOVE, we are talking about favorite! How do I know this is true? Growing up, I was the favorite, many times it coincides with being the baby, or the cutest, sweetest and most lovely, or all of the above, just saying.

Anyway, I got a little tattle tale that lives with me and he tells me everything. He tells me about his friends, his brothers, himself (guilt gets to him) and about THE HUBS (his Daddy) which works just great for me!

So apparently The HUBS has been texting while driving. Not in front of me, of course, because we would both be dead, because if he was silly enough to text while driving while I was in the car, I would have WHACKED him so hard he would have blacked out and we would both be DEAD, right now!

No, he has been doing it, I assume alone (Thank GOD for good life insurance) and with the boys in the car (which he will answer to later tonight)

Now maybe I could live with this is if let's say we was Jeff Gordon, or Ricky Bobby, but he is undoubtedly the worst driver I have ever met. He will literally turn around and talk to the person in the back seat, he will drive with his knees while holding a coffee cup and talking on the phone (can you cay cup holder?) he will miss his exit because he is talking to you, oh the bad driving examples go on and on.

The funny thing is he really thinks he is a good driver and gets really annoyed when I tell him he isn't.

I know none of you are silly enough to be texting while driving, right?

HOT coffee in my BUTT crack!

Oh yes, it seems every Friday the trip to Dunkin Donuts get more aggravating and this week DOWN RIGHT DANGEROUS! I had to buy two coffees, 2 dozen assorted donuts and 4 bags of whole beans for the coffee machine here in the office. Well, that is A LOT to carry.

As I pulled up to my office I got out of my little mini and walked to the co-pilot's side to unload all the DD crap and figure out how to carry it upstairs. First I pulled out the 2 coffees, one which I had been sipping on the way to work and had the little mouth hole open, and placed the cup holder on top of the mini. Then I bent over to pull out the 2 dozen donuts and 4 bags of coffee and the holder slipped off the top of my car and tumbled down my back side, dripping (thank GOD the lids were on TIGHT) hot coffee all down my butt crack *OUCH*, then the fell to the ground and spilled every where. Of course I screamed out all sorts of FOUL obscenities in English and Spanish, really truckers within 25 miles simultaneously blushed!

So, I carry everything in and go to the bathroom to clean up and when I look in the mirror I realize what a complete dumb ass I am. I WAS going to wear a blue stripped shirt this morning, but changed my mind after I was dressed and changed to light pink shirt, what I didn't CHANGE was the light blue bra (yea, I am one of those matchy-matchy freaks) I was wearing which you can clearly see through the pink shirt RIGHT NOW! And not in a COOL way like when Gwen Stefani wears a black bra under a white t-shirt.

Lets' move on to my jeans...which now have a coffee stain on the back side, which looks like I was in some cardio class and had butt sweat, I can actually hear the thread in the seams of my jeans SCREAMING for mercy as I type this...HELP, PLEASE, some one get this FAT ASS out of me! Yes, people it's true, they are tight as tight can be and I am rocking a wicked muffin top, oh hotness to BOOT!

I am breaking down and buying a pair of jeans tomorrow. I'll tell you how that crap went on Monday, I am sure it will involve TEARS, SWEAT and plenty of booze...I plan on going to NY&CO because they are crazy with the vanity seizing! Pray for me girls, pray for me!

Really? Because I'm pissed!

Published in May of 1932- OK, so I have been in a SUPER bad mood for like 3 days and tomorrow I may come to work in my PJ's, since nothing else fits in my closet. I am getting my 8 week follow up for my thyroid blood work, and I'm going to make them run a hormonal work up, because something is WRONG, very very WRONG.

I am in such a bad mood that last night the HUBS was being his usual pain in the ass and in a FIT of rage I went to WHACK him, and do you know what that MO-FO did? He deflected the blow with his hand, which was grasping the remote control and I swear I may have broken my hand. It hurts to even type. And today I am STILL mad at him for hurting my hand with the control while trying to avoid my blows....I know, this TIME I really have gone CRAZY. Just don't tell him that!