I haven’t been able to write much lately. Not because I don’t like writing (I don’t think) but because I’ve turned into this lazy monster that would rather spend my days lounging like Jabba the Hutt than doing anything remotely like moving forward. Wait, scratch that. I don’t think I would rather spend my days as a modern day Jabba, it’s just the way things have been turning out. Every time I manage to get something down on paper and then go through the extra steps of posting it onto my blog I feel like I have conquered Everest. I…
Category: Humor, Life, Observations
Supermarket Diaries Part Two: Panties and Purple Pants
Catch the first part of the story here: Supermarket Diaries Part One: Just Killing Time Grocery cart firmly in tow, I was ready to plunder the rest of the sale racks in the store. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but I was convinced that if I left without spending some money I was probably going to die. I worked my way to the fat (but not that fat) section and found what I had apparently been waiting for—racks and racks of pants. Dozens—nay, hundreds—of pairs of pants (my personal shopping nemesis) in every conceivable color (okay, maybe only…
The Great Head Debate
Get your mind out of the gutter, people. (Okay, me too, because I totally went there.) Anyway, I thought it was high time to take a moment to look back on what has to be one of the most egregious gaffes I ever had to endure as a child. A mistake so large that I still find the time to bitch about it at least once a year (as I have for 30 plus years now) to the person most responsible for my broken heart—my mother (cue the bloodcurdling scream and the dun, dun, duuuuun)! What could possibly bring out…
Supermarket Diaries Part One: Just Killing Time
Okay, so I have this thing where if I have even twenty minutes to spare before I’m expected at work I head to the supermarket. But not just any average supermarket—I’m talking the deluxe version with sushi near one side of the building and a jewelry store near the other. Apparently there is something in my DNA that requires that I find something completely useless to buy every day to give my life validity. I’ve walked out with nothing (not that I didn’t try) and I’ve walked out with two bags filled of 80% off holiday items that I will…
Pay it Forward Died with Me
Before I get too deep into the nitty gritty of this story I want to make it clear that I am not a bad person—for at least 96.2% of the time. That other 3.8% consists of a couple of things that I will just never share (and is the biggest reason why I resist trying any kind of hypnotherapy) and a few things that just make me feel like an utter asshole. I just want that bigger number to be known before I cop to something that has kind of led me down a shame spiral lately. No, I didn’t…
It’s Not You. It’s Me.
I didn’t walk with you today. I probably won’t walk with you tomorrow either. It was lovely while it lasted, but there isn’t a need in my soul anymore. But, I want you to know that it isn’t you—it’s me. I convinced myself that it would be cold and windy and probably snowy, so I stayed away. I told myself that it would just be making myself miserable. I found a reason to stay home. But then the sun came out and made everything so gorgeous and inviting and I thought about how much I miss you. I could feel…
Love Gesture or Torture?
My hubby is the best gift giver in the entire universe. Seriously. Sometimes I find myself moaning and groaning about the fact that he isn’t present in the moment (because he’s usually doing something annoying like working from home so that he can earn money to give people those gifts) but he always surprises me with home much he really is paying attention. Back in the Middle Ages when we were living together in sin (about one year pre-marriage vows) he gave me a super deluxe hair dryer for Valentine’s Day. I think I might have even got some super-fast…
I Knew He Loved Me (Conclusion)
Don’t forget the first part of the story: I Knew He Loved Me This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that he had scribbled all over the paper doodling my name and drawing pictures of us holding hands, but that dream was pretty much the complete opposite of what I found. There were doodles all right, but not with my name– with another girl’s name. A girl from our class that I had never even seen him talk to—let alone ever imagined he would ever have feelings for. There were doodles all right. And there were about fifty different…
The Fire or the Spiders?
About a million years ago, when I still lived with my parents, I had a room down in the bowels of their house. It wasn’t exactly a scary place to live (Freddie Krueger wouldn’t be hanging down there at any rate) but it did sometimes have a lonely and abandoned feeling about it. Every once in a while it would explode with energy and life when we would have family parties celebrating birthdays and Super Bowls (thank you Denver Broncos!) but, for the most part, it sat lifeless and dark, just waiting for something spectacular to happen to bring it…
Autumn, How Do I Hate Thee?
I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out how to handle such a delicate topic as the changing of seasons from summer to autumn. I find myself surrounded by people championing the beauty, the crispness, the, how shall I put this, the pumpkin-ness of everything. Make no mistake, it’s not easy to come clean about something that it seems everyone in the world is in love with. In fact, it’s extremely daunting. But I have words in my heart and a blog just waiting to be used. So I will. Autumn, why do I hate thee? Because you’re stealing the time…









