The Best Laid Plans

Seriously, this was my plan for the weekend -

Spend Friday night in Las Cruces so I could ..
...Go to the Aggie game on Saturday afternoon.

Then drive home, do some clothes shopping and catch up on the laundry which was backed up since Wednesday.

This is actually what happened:

Came home Friday, had a quick dinner, went to coffee with Wilson.
Woke up Saturday morning, saw Wilson off to the doctor.
The doctor didn't work out so we went to the outlets.
Spent entirely too much time and money, but found some kick ass shoes.
Got a call from a neighbor and..
...rescued a dog.
Spent several hours at the animal emergency room.
Lost my wallet and went to bed about 1:00 a.m.

Woke up Sunday morning.
Attempted to watch Superbad, but had a superbad DVD (thanks Netflix!)
Found my wallet.
Went to Wal-Mart.
Ate Chinese food.
Went back to the vet for more puppy meds.
Came home.
Baked a loaf of bread.
Ate a loaf of bread.
And finally did some laundry...

Now it's Army Wives, purging the closet and maybe bedtime.

Wicked Karma

This morning I decided that I wanted an iced coffee. I had one on Saturday, it was yummy. After I drank that bevarage I did two loads of laundry and scrubbed the tub! I figured - why not give it a shot during a work day - maybe I'd be super productive and my boss would be impressed!!

So. I went to the bank. The post office. The Dirt Cowboy. I ordered a large iced mocha latte and a ham and cheese croissant (the same magical order from Saturday). I came home and Wilson said, "I wish you wouldn't support the Dirt Cowboy. The manager doesn't let them have the tips in the tip jar."

My only response, as I was chugging my drink was "Well then it's a good thing I don't tip!"

Here's where the instant karma kicked my butt - the croissant was gross and after I finished the coffee, I got a stomach ache and took a nap.

I want my $7 back.

The Incredible Puke-able Egg

So. Last time we were together I talked about losing weight. And how my quest to fit in my pants again had begun. The gauntlet had been thrown, as they say. I don't know who says things like that, or what a gauntlet even really looks like, but with these things we just roll.

So, I'm trying to lose weight. I've been eating in a more patterned matter (an actual breakfast meal, not the Michelle Andrews Diet Coke Breakfast of Champions) a solid lunch and a good dinner - with maybe a snack somewhere in between. I figure, you know, why not regulate the metabolism?

Well, while my mind thought that, my body, felt that it needed to take more drastic measures this morning: I woke up - jolly as could be, for it was 6:00 a.m. and the sun was shining. Okay, maybe not shining, but I could tell it was rising which is unusual as there are typically clouds blocking any sort of sunlight. I took my shower, got dressed and felt the need to eat a hard boiled egg. Mmm-mmm that sounded yummy to me. So I made two. And two slices of toast with grape jelly. I was set. I boiled the eggs. I toasted the toast. I peeled the eggs. I jellied the toast. I ate one egg. I ate one slice of toast. I started in on egg two. My stomach piped in and said "Maybe not ..." My brain shouted "Eat it!! It's yummy!!"

Stomach: I wouldn't go there if I were you.

Head: Shut it stomach, it's scrumptuous and healthy!

Stomach: All right bitch don't say I didn't warn you.

Head: Whatcha gonna do? Huh?! Huh?!

Daniel: Oh fuck, I'm gonna puke.

Yeah. So I puked it all up. It was beautiful. And by beautiful, I mean gross. And a little painful, I must say. I haven't puked sober in a long time. I haven't puked food in a long time. 1993 to be exact. I puked drunk last summer, but that's always pretty. And relieving. Now granted, once I got all the grossness out of my system, I felt a helluva lot better, but it was not a good thing in the process. Nothing had been digested further than me chewing, so it all came back up the way it went down. Which was a very interesting lesson in biology, but really not one I cared to A) learn in that way or B) at that time.

So - anyway, apparently my body had enough of the eggs. As a precaution, though, we threw all the eggs out and bought new ones. I feel better about that, but it'll be a while until I eat another egg. (I'm chosing to blame the eggs because there's no way in hell I'm giving up toast.) Or maybe this was a way of my body trying to figure out its own way to lose the weight - which, P.S. was totally off base because in the process of recovering, I ate 1/2 a box of saltines.

So suck on that!

I'm Bringing Sexy Back ... in 5-7 Days

I have pink eye. I need a haircut. I just ate my own weight in Christmas Eve cheese and crackers and chex mix and macaroni and cheese and hot dogs and green beans. Needless to say, I'm not the sexy beast I once was.

But who cares because it's Christmas Eve!! This will be short post because it's almost time for bed and Santa will be making his way to Wilson's Mom's house (where we're spending the holiday) and I've already been naughty enough this year, I don't need to push my luck by staying up late.

Blessings to all, and to all a good night!!

So Who's Up for Some Pot Pie?

I wonder if Tyra Banks ever regrets being the catalyst for Janice Dickenson being thrust upon the world again. Maybe a little guilty?

Whatever, as long as Ms. Dickeson keeps her male models working for 2xist, she can be any shade of crazy she wants!

So, I often have a problem when it comes to dinner time. Backstory - Wilson and I got into a huge argument over groceries the other day because I wanted to buy groceries and he didn't want to because I tend to buy things I won't ever eat (mostly because I have this notion that I'm a chef, when in reality, the only cooking skill I have is the ability to dial for chinese delivery!), they go bad, and in the long run he wastes money. Okay, all logical. So anyway, we argued, we bought groceries. Cut to today and me sitting on the chair, literally watching the minutes pass, thinking, "How late do I have to let it get before I don't feel guilty for making the decision to not make food, but to order it ..." Then there's the whole problem of me waiting so long to make food that I get so lethargic about it ... what a viscious cycle.

No! Make food! You can do it! Oohh, there are tater tots ... No! Tater tots are not food! So, I pull out some chicken from the fridge ... what shall I do with it? Let's just sautee some chicken, boil some pasta, throw some red sauce on there and call it a meal. No fuss, no muss, and a net gain of approximately 4 dirty dishes. But wait - what's that yellow box in the corner? Bisquick ... ooh a recipe for dumplings! I've never done that before. Yeah, yeah, you can boil some chicken in some chicken broth, cut up some celery, put in some potatoes, some carrots, green beans, corn, onions and totally make a stew!! With dumplings!

P.S. Who knew it would take an hour and a half to make this stew with dumplings and that I wouldn't be eating dinner until 9:45. Not this kid, that's for sure.

I'm not even going to get into the fact that I was one can of chicken broth short and it really came out as chicken and dumpling pot pie stuffing ... so guess what's for dinner tomorrow?! Oh and I'm also not going to get into the fact that I have no idea what dumplings are supposed to a) look like or b) taste like, so I dont' know if I got those right ... as far as I know they're balls of steamed dough ... and I like dough, erego, I liked the dumplings. That's the transitive property, bitches.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that when it comes to cooking I'm way more ambitious than I am talented.

There's Still the Matter of That Pie in the Fridge

It’s Sunday evening and the weekend of sloth is about to come to an end. Soon it will be Monday and my stomach will be sad because I will no longer have meals that consist entirely of Pepperidge Farms cookies! You think I am kidding, but here is a list of things I ate this weekend, we’ll start with Friday night because, well, who am I kidding, my brain goes on weekend at 2:30 on Friday why shouldn’t my stomach?

Friday night: Relay for Life – a proud night for a glutton. First off, I didn’t register to participate, but was easily convinced by Tricia to go and watch. “Watch a bunch of people walk around a track to support cancer? Meh.” “There’s free food.” “Okay!” So I go, and much to my chagrin you have to pay $5, but it’s all you can eat! I decide to wait until I’m really hungry. And by “really hungry” I mean “until Tricia gets up to go get food and ask her to bring me something.” Eventually, one of our co-workers leaves and gives me her $5-all-you-can-eat-all-money-goes-to-cancer-research wristband and I get to eat! All I can! For free! So I have a hamburger! And a hot dog! And another hamburger! All in about 45 minute span. It’s a proud night for a glutton. And cheap bastards.

Saturday I woke up and ate 4 pieces of toast with butter. Then I went to visit Wilson at his mom’s. Since it was around lunchtime and I was going to be in the car I figured what could be better to eat than … gas station lunch! So I had a bag of cracker and cheddar cheese combos and – GASP! – the Foodstop is out of Diet Mountain Dew! WTF? DMD is a driving necessity! How else am I to belt out Kelly Clarkson songs while barreling down the highway at 80 mph without the caffeine boost that only a DMD can provide?! I settle for a Diet Dr Pepper because, well, it tastes more like regular Dr Pepper. (P.S. I’m a commercial monkey).

Once I get to Wilson’s mom’s house I’m greeted by the neighbor with a bag of cookies! Hell yeah, it’s time for dessert, I say! So I eat two cookies. While at Wilson’s we work on the neighbor’s boat … hmm, cookies first, then work – what a tricky lady! But it’s worth it cause A) the cookies were good, B) it’s a beautiful day and C) I get to spend time with Wils. So we’re painting and drilling and here comes the cookie neighbor with what? More cookies! Yum. After paining and drilling and cookies we take a nap. We awaken to Wilson’s mom with hot dogs! After an hour drive home I come home and eat a bag of Lime and Red Chile Tostito’s. I’d never heard of them, but I found the bag in the house so I ate them. They were pretty tasty!

On Sunday we didn’t wake up until around 11 and I finish off the rest of those Tostito’s for breakfast. For lunch I have a can of Chef Boyardee Ravioli. For dinner we try to fix last Sunday’s Chicken Fried Steak disaster by making … Chicken Fried Steak again! We tried a different biscuit recipe and after a successful taste test (read: 5 biscuits later) we then fry up the steaks. Mmmm beef fried in butter and oil?! Please sir, can I have some more? No! You’ve eaten too many biscuits and physically cannot intake anymore food!

Which is where I sit now. Bloated. Staring at a plate of uneaten biscuits smothered in gravy. Oh yeah, did I mention that the steak was smothered in gravy? Yeah … so, in summary – cookies, combos, hot dogs hamburgers, chips, biscuits and fried beef … oh mama, my trainer should have never gone on vacation.

Thou shalt not have chicken on Easter

Jesus said, "Behold my hands and my feet, that it is myself: handle me and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have." So my question is: This relates to the bunny rabbit how?!?

I hate holidays. They are so inconvenient. Things are closed. Children run about. Is a bucket of chicken at 9:30 p.m. too much to ask? Only if it's Easter Sunday.

Not to get on any sort of religious high horse, but really, to me, religious holidays are the pinnacle of hypocrisy. No one cares more about their religion than when there's a reason to not work.

Okay I'm done. And kids be quiet and go home.