Tuesday, September 24, 2013

No thanks, CNN. I'd Rather Laugh at Stupid Sh*t.

I'm having one of those weeks where I just want to disconnect and go completely off the grid.  I try to be a responsible, educated citizen, but dude, CNN.com is such a downer.  Plus, as you may already be aware, I TURNED 40, so I figure I'm entitled to a mid-life crisis.  Haven't decided between having an affair or buying a car while Hubby is at work, but I'm leaning towards the car.  That way I don't have to shave my legs.

Anyhoo, in an attempt to cheer myself up and remember that there is GOOD in the world, I'm sharing things I find funny and/or heartwarming.  I don't own any of this, but I found it all on the world-wide internets.

Things that make me happy:

1.  The guy that dances to his iPod in public
Because, why the hell not?  I want to live my life this happily.


3.  This article that my friend shared on Facebook.  How you react in situations such as this says more about YOU than it does about the "bad guy."  You never know what other people are going through.

4.  Liz Lemon might be my soul mate:

5.  Health class woulda been a lot more fun if I had added my own captions.

6.  Usually I don't like to divert attention to blogs other than my own, but I'm sorry, The Bloggess is friggin' hysterical.

7.  Speaking of poultry . . .

8. Live, from her mini-van, it's the Jeannie Tate Show!  Ten and two, woohoo!

9.  Oh, to be the substitue teacher.  This whole class is gonna feel.  my.  wrath.

10.  I'll be right back.  Gotta go tape Bill Murray to my mirror . . .

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

I. am. 40!

I’ve never understood the grown-up aversion to birthdays, other than the fact that you indeed get OLDER with each one.

I friggin’ LOVE my birthday.  Always have.  An entire day that is designated for ME, my awesomeness, and the very fact that I was brought into this world?  Yes, please.

I am 40.  


Four zero.  

You know those adults who “hate” their birthdays and all the attention?  I call bullsh*t.  I don’t even bother pretending I don’t like the attention – just ask ANYONE WHO HAS EVER KNOWN ME.  Bring it on.  I will concede that I detest the restaurant-birthday-sing-along, mostly because I used to wait tables and I know how annoying it is to sing Happy Birthday, or some "clever" version thereof, to some jackass in a sombrero.  Now, if you want to hand me the mike and hand me a playlist of obscure 80’s country songs, I’m yer gal.

I think this is going to be the year I stop trying to be thinner than I am.  I figure if I live to be 80 years old, I will have spent half my life trying to fit into single-digit sized jeans. 

F*ck it.  I’m fat, people.  I am curvy, I have a beer gut (that I’ve worked really hard for, thank you,) I have stretch marks from bearing three healthy boys (who now drive me bat-sh*t crazy,) I have boobs that enter a room 15 minutes before the rest of me does, and I have two chins.  

I like pizza and beer and donuts.  They taste good. 

You know what?  I’m tired.  My kids love me; they love snuggling up to me on the couch because I’m “soft.”  Hubby likes to watch tv with his head in my lap because it’s comfy.  I try to exercise periodically and eat my veggies and drink plenty of water, but it’s been FORTY years . . . I just don’t think I’m meant to be any different than what I am. 

So there ya have it.  You may have surmised (because of the drunk-sailor vocabulary) that I’ve had a couple of these:

 It’s my birthday, yo.  Cheers!