feeling eclectic, feeling electric, excited to get my....fuzzy on and i feel like i should actually write something. so i'm just going to write everything and anything that comes to mind.
i get... sooooooooooo much dried baby yogurt on my face by the end of the day. it's surreal. it's uncalled for. and mostly, it's sticky. i need a miniature personal squeegee to hang around my neck so i can scrape it off of my chin and cheeks during the day.
i love you. all of you. so there. just shoving my love into all of your faces on the bloggie. jamming up all of your interwebs with my affection. you read my words, and you tell your friends, and you don't send hate mail. it's those little things that get me through the day.
so. blogging is supposed to be about honesty, right? so maybe i should be honest. i found myself yesterday in the Rite Aid parking lot racing inside to buy some water on my way to the gym. i was hurrying so that i could drink it, and make it to the gym in time to make myself throw up before my dinner digested cuz i felt so gross and out of control for eating so much for dinner that night. it was then, walking back to the car, drinking my water, when i said aloud to myself "i think i have a problem". good for me. self-five. i went through the therapy for my bulemia months and months and months ago, i took the antidepressants, but now i'm off of them and i'm all neurotic feeling and i'm back to the barfing. but at least i recognize that perhaps i have a habit that is unhealthy and undesirable. now, as for the remaining 11 out of 12 steps, meh. i'll get to them. eventually.
ok. i'm done with that topic!! please, no concerned comments and "don't hurt yourself"s. i know y'all care and i'm very informed about my predicament. i love y'all. with fervor.
i can't bring myself to eat a Kumquat. i know it's a fruit, but no one makes kumquat juice, no one makes kumquat fruit filled pastries, so... i'm disinclined to think that it's tasty. no one talks about them either. what did the Kumquat ever do to humanity to deserve such disdain? why is the kumquat such a largely ignored fruit? i wish i cared enough to find out. like i said; i can't bring myself to put one in my mouth. maybe if they changed the name to something more appetising.
i don't like talking on the phone. i like texting though. i'd much rather text someone than talk on the phone. or talk face to face. there's just something about a vocal phone conversation that rubs me the wrong way. i guess it's cuz i hear inflections and emphasis on what the other person says, but i can't see the body language. and 80% or so of allllllllllllllll communication is comprised of body language. so it... confuses me? i suppose that's the best way to put it. i will avoid phone calls like the AIDS-Leprosy-Malaria-Plague, but i'll text all day long.
who was the genius that decided that Zombies eat brains? i just don't think there is any science to support that. why not fingers? or cerebral spinal fluid? or toe jam? or belly buttons? i'd like to invent a monster that goes around sucking out and devouring peoples belly buttons. a Morckshux. that's what i'm calling it. it's like a Unicorn, but with spikes all over it, and crazy cat shaped irises, and instead of a mane and tail it's blue fire that turns whatever it touches to goo. the dreaded belly button consuming Morckshux. named Trevor.
my new best friend, Trevor.
so i used the bathroom at a barnes and noble last week. looked to the right and saw a smear of boogers on the wall. i'm gonna say it right now. EVERYONE picks their nose. and if you're thinking to yourself "well i don't" then you are a goddamn liar. you KNOW you pick your nose. it's part of life. no matter what, it's gonna happen. fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly, and i gotta get this itchy prickly monstrosity out of my nostril and away from my superior nasal chonchae cuz it's irritating the hell out of me. everyone does it. don't even try and front like you're a non-picker because they don't exist.
if i was a lesbian, then i'd totally be all over Rachel McAdams. or possibly Kim Stoltz (even though she belongs to a good friend of mine). perchance Mila Kunis, the chick that played Jackie on That 70's show. come on ladies, who do you have lady crushes on? leave your pick as a comment.
i...... want..... to eat everything in the house.
my lips and calves are numb. the rest of me is fine, but my lips and calves are numb. hmm. intrigue.
i should probably call it quits and go to bed while the going is good and before my typing skills diminish any more than they already have. i'm hitting the backspace key every third or fourth letter and it's getting tiresome.
y'all have a lovely night, and delightful weekend, and please send comments. they brighten my day and give flight to my heart. later beeeeaches!!!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Dear Things and Stuff...
Dear Snickers Ice Cream Bar,
Oh Siren of my Stomach, how I adore you. You are such a delight! Your delicate chocolate shell encases 100 less calories than your denser, less frigid counterpart. I just wish there weren't so many of you in the freezer. The song of FOUR Snickers Ice Cream Bars is hard to resist when I'm on a diet and I think about eating and how hungry I am nearly every minute. yes, even while i'm sleeping.
With affection,
Krista
Dear Lady at Target Yesterday,
One of my greatest frustrations is NOT being able to soothe my child when he's crying. So I did NOT appreciate your actions yesterday when Ronin was SCREAMING in the check out line. It was all I could do to keep from blowing up at you in a fit of rage when you paid for your purchase in LOOSE CHANGE, then bent over Ronin's stroller to "talk" to him, preventing me from getting to the credit card payment thing so that i could pay for the Gerber Veggie Dip snacks that would have satiated my crying son and alieved my tension. I have mixed feelings about my decision to yell at you, but mostly I don't regret it.
Self Righteously,
Young Frustrated Mama
Dear Son,
Please stop hating me and just eat your food. You can't be breastfeeding forever. I'm afraid of your teeth that I'm sure are on their way in.
Love,
Mom
Dear Comb-over Man,
Just shave it off, buddy. That little wispy coif isn't fooling anyone.
Sincerely,
Krista
Dear Old Navy,
You are impressing the hell out of me. Not only did you make a yellow shirt that i look really good in, but you made a little flannel onsie, cargo pants, and one of those Fargo-esque furry hats with BEAR EARS on it in my son's size. He is the CUTEST little Outdoorsman in the described outfit, and it is all thanks to you. Thank you for making my little man look like a Little Man.
Gratefully,
Krista
Dear Snickers Ice Cream Bar,
I give up. Get In My Fundus!!!!
Munch,
Krista
Dear Ronin's Bedtime,
GET HERE already.
~Krista
Dear Chick-Fil-A,
you know, every time i order fast food through the drive through, i expect a certain percentage of error. a forgotten packet of barbeque sauce, a lack of napkins, an intrusive tomato slice when i ordered a chicken sandwich "neat". today, however, you shocked me with your inadequacy. i opened my bag-o-goodies to inspect the grilled chicken salad i ordered only to be greeted by half a head of hair. seriously. there was so much hair. i expected some hair, but it looks like the individual that was filling my order has an acute case of alopecia. and the Alopecia Drive-thru Technician aparently thought i'd like a few shreds of dried up grass in there too. For real, Chick-Fil-A, slow your roll and FIX your SHIT.
Severely Grossed Out,
Krista
Dear Grim Reaper,
YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!! hahahaha.... pun.
~Krista
Dear Stretch Marks,
you were cool and all when i was pregnant and 60 pounds heavier than i am now... but lately you just look ridiculous. therefore, i'm issuing an eviction notice. you have 60 days to vacate and be back to my normal, delightfully taut skin. Ha!! just kidding. i'm not so naive as to think that i'll ever have that "soft supple" look ever again. that is best left to the sluts on the interwebs and all the chicks out there that are fat-less. lucky bitches.
your frenemy,
Krista
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1. it's uncanny how many times a day i misspell my OWN name. maybe i should just change my name to krsita.
2. i've lost 3 pounds in 2 weeks so by my calculations... bEEp BoOp BeEP beeP BOOp bEeP BeeP..... it will take 13 weeks to get down to my goal weight which puts us at....*calendar-flippings-through*..... 123 pounds on 13 January 2011. totally doable.
3. remember those big balloon/rubber balls that you'd blow up and they had a rubber band attatched to them so you could kind of spring them off of your hand? yeah. i never liked those growing up.
4. my son could make a fortune doing Interpretive Dance. he is an excellent squirmer.
5. i kind of like tinkering around with the piano....
6. i'm going to invent a little gun that you zap your muscles with and it makes them not feel terrible and ache-y anymore. because my leg muscles feel terrible and ache-y.
7. Monster has a new drink out- zero sugar and zero calories. fairly tasty. it's grrrrrrrrrrrrape!
8. i wish that i had packed a t-shirt for this trip to Virginia. i find myself with nothing to lounge about in come bedtime and it's awkward.
9. where did the word Skivvies come from? and why does it mean underwear?
10. um.... does anyone actually read this anymore besides my mom, Shelly and Tash? and if so, why doesn't anyone comment anymore??? *tiny cry*
peace, beef, and brussel sprouts. time to have some Amaretto and OJ!!
Oh Siren of my Stomach, how I adore you. You are such a delight! Your delicate chocolate shell encases 100 less calories than your denser, less frigid counterpart. I just wish there weren't so many of you in the freezer. The song of FOUR Snickers Ice Cream Bars is hard to resist when I'm on a diet and I think about eating and how hungry I am nearly every minute. yes, even while i'm sleeping.
With affection,
Krista
Dear Lady at Target Yesterday,
One of my greatest frustrations is NOT being able to soothe my child when he's crying. So I did NOT appreciate your actions yesterday when Ronin was SCREAMING in the check out line. It was all I could do to keep from blowing up at you in a fit of rage when you paid for your purchase in LOOSE CHANGE, then bent over Ronin's stroller to "talk" to him, preventing me from getting to the credit card payment thing so that i could pay for the Gerber Veggie Dip snacks that would have satiated my crying son and alieved my tension. I have mixed feelings about my decision to yell at you, but mostly I don't regret it.
Self Righteously,
Young Frustrated Mama
Dear Son,
Please stop hating me and just eat your food. You can't be breastfeeding forever. I'm afraid of your teeth that I'm sure are on their way in.
Love,
Mom
Dear Comb-over Man,
Just shave it off, buddy. That little wispy coif isn't fooling anyone.
Sincerely,
Krista
Dear Old Navy,
You are impressing the hell out of me. Not only did you make a yellow shirt that i look really good in, but you made a little flannel onsie, cargo pants, and one of those Fargo-esque furry hats with BEAR EARS on it in my son's size. He is the CUTEST little Outdoorsman in the described outfit, and it is all thanks to you. Thank you for making my little man look like a Little Man.
Gratefully,
Krista
Dear Snickers Ice Cream Bar,
I give up. Get In My Fundus!!!!
Munch,
Krista
Dear Ronin's Bedtime,
GET HERE already.
~Krista
Dear Chick-Fil-A,
you know, every time i order fast food through the drive through, i expect a certain percentage of error. a forgotten packet of barbeque sauce, a lack of napkins, an intrusive tomato slice when i ordered a chicken sandwich "neat". today, however, you shocked me with your inadequacy. i opened my bag-o-goodies to inspect the grilled chicken salad i ordered only to be greeted by half a head of hair. seriously. there was so much hair. i expected some hair, but it looks like the individual that was filling my order has an acute case of alopecia. and the Alopecia Drive-thru Technician aparently thought i'd like a few shreds of dried up grass in there too. For real, Chick-Fil-A, slow your roll and FIX your SHIT.
Severely Grossed Out,
Krista
Dear Grim Reaper,
YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!! hahahaha.... pun.
~Krista
Dear Stretch Marks,
you were cool and all when i was pregnant and 60 pounds heavier than i am now... but lately you just look ridiculous. therefore, i'm issuing an eviction notice. you have 60 days to vacate and be back to my normal, delightfully taut skin. Ha!! just kidding. i'm not so naive as to think that i'll ever have that "soft supple" look ever again. that is best left to the sluts on the interwebs and all the chicks out there that are fat-less. lucky bitches.
your frenemy,
Krista
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1. it's uncanny how many times a day i misspell my OWN name. maybe i should just change my name to krsita.
2. i've lost 3 pounds in 2 weeks so by my calculations... bEEp BoOp BeEP beeP BOOp bEeP BeeP..... it will take 13 weeks to get down to my goal weight which puts us at....*calendar-flippings-through*..... 123 pounds on 13 January 2011. totally doable.
3. remember those big balloon/rubber balls that you'd blow up and they had a rubber band attatched to them so you could kind of spring them off of your hand? yeah. i never liked those growing up.
4. my son could make a fortune doing Interpretive Dance. he is an excellent squirmer.
5. i kind of like tinkering around with the piano....
6. i'm going to invent a little gun that you zap your muscles with and it makes them not feel terrible and ache-y anymore. because my leg muscles feel terrible and ache-y.
7. Monster has a new drink out- zero sugar and zero calories. fairly tasty. it's grrrrrrrrrrrrape!
8. i wish that i had packed a t-shirt for this trip to Virginia. i find myself with nothing to lounge about in come bedtime and it's awkward.
9. where did the word Skivvies come from? and why does it mean underwear?
10. um.... does anyone actually read this anymore besides my mom, Shelly and Tash? and if so, why doesn't anyone comment anymore??? *tiny cry*
peace, beef, and brussel sprouts. time to have some Amaretto and OJ!!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
here's a list of small paragraphs
A good friend of mine sent me a message requesting psyche-revealing answers to the following questions.
so Shelly, here's lookin' at you, kid.
1. what is your favorite word? and she starts off with a tough one. hmm... if i could only pick one.... well, it used to be Moisture. there was also a time when Pants was my number one. however, lately i've been leaning towards SOUP. but only when you say it kind of creepily. with a slight "h" in there. like "ssshoUUp.."
2. what is your least favorite word? probably Licorice. it conjures up a hateful smell, a disgusting taste, a slimey sight, and the memory of that evil Lord Licorice from Candyland that would always fuck shit up for me. it's a hateful, hateful substance and ergo a dispicable word.
3. what turns you on? honestly, being kissed on the neck, a good cologne (like Hugo Boss), hands on my hips, and knowing that i turn him on.
4. what turns you off? body odor, when i feel fat, if i'm having a bad hair day, being told that "sure, i guess i can try and rally for you", and sexual advances when i'm actively trying to get stuff done; for example, cleaning the house.
5. what sound or noise do you love? i love Ronin's laughter and his mumbling which just so happens to sound like him saying "mom".
6. what sound or noise do you hate? i very frequently hear a high pitched whine... and from anatomy & physiology classes i'm left to infer that it means that my cilia in my cochlea are laying down/dying so i'm losing more of my hearing. Silver Lining; soon i won't have any least favorite sounds! also, i don't like the sound that parachute pants/warm-up pants make when i walk in them. i feel like i'm the noisiest walker around, and that everyone is staring at me and my painfully 1980's dated attire.
7. what is your favorite curse word? it's a toss up between nigga and bitches. *to clarify- nigga is said only to my dearest friends and only out of love. :) but bitches is just fun to say... go ahead, try and say it without smiling. now try saying it more like beaches. go ahead, tell me you're not grinning like a fool with his pants on the ground, nigga!
8. what profession other than your own would you like to attempt? dude, i would LOVE to be in Cirque De Soliel!!! i'd be a contortionist, or a dancer, or one of those contortion-y ribbon dancing ladies. also, it might be cool to be a personal trainer A La Jillian Michaels on The Biggest Loser. i adore how completely vicious she is, and yet how her heart of gold still shines through. either profession though would give me a rockin' bod. for shiz, biiiitches.
9. what profession would you like NOT to do? i would not like to be a garbage collector, the janitor at a strip club, or porn/street-whoring. i have the feeling like any of those three give me a good chance at contracting some sort of life threatening Super-chancre-herpes-gonorrhea-syphillis-AIDS-pneumonia and i just can't chance it.
10. if heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? it would probably be along the lines of "hey! you're here! oh good. i saved you a triple-beef-extra-bacon-extra-cheese zero-calorie cheeseburger and a full-flavored-lose-ten-pounds-now whole cheesecake. i think you're hilarious, you're a wonderful person, you did a great job loving your family, friends, and everyone you met, you have one hell of a kid, and enjoy Eternity doing whatever you want! also, here is your VERY OWN UNICORN! his name is Trevor. i love you, kiddo! glad you made it."
you may applaud now.
also, if anyone has other questions you'd like to shoot my way; either leave them here as comments, hit me up on my email (on my profile page), or send me a message on my facebook account.
with love to my niggas and bitches,
Krista
so Shelly, here's lookin' at you, kid.
1. what is your favorite word? and she starts off with a tough one. hmm... if i could only pick one.... well, it used to be Moisture. there was also a time when Pants was my number one. however, lately i've been leaning towards SOUP. but only when you say it kind of creepily. with a slight "h" in there. like "ssshoUUp.."
2. what is your least favorite word? probably Licorice. it conjures up a hateful smell, a disgusting taste, a slimey sight, and the memory of that evil Lord Licorice from Candyland that would always fuck shit up for me. it's a hateful, hateful substance and ergo a dispicable word.
3. what turns you on? honestly, being kissed on the neck, a good cologne (like Hugo Boss), hands on my hips, and knowing that i turn him on.
4. what turns you off? body odor, when i feel fat, if i'm having a bad hair day, being told that "sure, i guess i can try and rally for you", and sexual advances when i'm actively trying to get stuff done; for example, cleaning the house.
5. what sound or noise do you love? i love Ronin's laughter and his mumbling which just so happens to sound like him saying "mom".
6. what sound or noise do you hate? i very frequently hear a high pitched whine... and from anatomy & physiology classes i'm left to infer that it means that my cilia in my cochlea are laying down/dying so i'm losing more of my hearing. Silver Lining; soon i won't have any least favorite sounds! also, i don't like the sound that parachute pants/warm-up pants make when i walk in them. i feel like i'm the noisiest walker around, and that everyone is staring at me and my painfully 1980's dated attire.
7. what is your favorite curse word? it's a toss up between nigga and bitches. *to clarify- nigga is said only to my dearest friends and only out of love. :) but bitches is just fun to say... go ahead, try and say it without smiling. now try saying it more like beaches. go ahead, tell me you're not grinning like a fool with his pants on the ground, nigga!
8. what profession other than your own would you like to attempt? dude, i would LOVE to be in Cirque De Soliel!!! i'd be a contortionist, or a dancer, or one of those contortion-y ribbon dancing ladies. also, it might be cool to be a personal trainer A La Jillian Michaels on The Biggest Loser. i adore how completely vicious she is, and yet how her heart of gold still shines through. either profession though would give me a rockin' bod. for shiz, biiiitches.
9. what profession would you like NOT to do? i would not like to be a garbage collector, the janitor at a strip club, or porn/street-whoring. i have the feeling like any of those three give me a good chance at contracting some sort of life threatening Super-chancre-herpes-gonorrhea-syphillis-AIDS-pneumonia and i just can't chance it.
10. if heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? it would probably be along the lines of "hey! you're here! oh good. i saved you a triple-beef-extra-bacon-extra-cheese zero-calorie cheeseburger and a full-flavored-lose-ten-pounds-now whole cheesecake. i think you're hilarious, you're a wonderful person, you did a great job loving your family, friends, and everyone you met, you have one hell of a kid, and enjoy Eternity doing whatever you want! also, here is your VERY OWN UNICORN! his name is Trevor. i love you, kiddo! glad you made it."
you may applaud now.
also, if anyone has other questions you'd like to shoot my way; either leave them here as comments, hit me up on my email (on my profile page), or send me a message on my facebook account.
with love to my niggas and bitches,
Krista
Obsession: the cure to the Obesity Epidemic.
the secret to weight loss is Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
i've been trying for 7+ months now to lose the baby weight and i've finally found a way to do it.
i live, sleep, eat and breathe Obsession. when i wake up i prepare myself for dissappointment in the breakfast department. no pop tarts, no cinnamon rolls, no apple pie, no 8 cupcakes from the baking foray the night before...
just plain ol' fiber packed cereal and light soymilk. maybe coffee.
then i spend the next few hours trying to distract myself from how hungry i am. i run around with my son, i log my caloric intake and sob internally, i go up and down the stairs repeatedly and seemingly aimlessly in an attempt to destroy the calories from breakfast, and i foolishly dream of cupcakes.
then lunch time. i pick and choose my meal, attempting to find something that fills me and still meets the parameters of the calories that i've allowed myself to eat by 1pm. this usually ends up being way less than i feel like i should be ingesting.
so i die a little bit inside.
afternoon.... i hope and pray that the Angel Baby takes a nap so that i can sleep away some of the time between my pitiful meager lunch and the looming glory of dinner....sometimes he does and it's splendid. other times i agonize for hours, doing squats here and there, leg lifts while i watch Ronin play with his toys on the floor, donkey kicks to fix my "saggy booty" as my lover so gingerly labeled it.
every now and again, i hit the gym and frantically/manically attempt to pulverize my fat with as much cardio as i can squeeze in between the time i get there and the time that the nursery attendants come inform me that my darling child has transformed into a screaming banshee. those are the glorious days; the days when i can feel the jiggle being released from my body in the form of pain and sweat.
but all these days end the same. i put my Superior Man-child to bed and stay up doing crunches and booty-squeezy things for about another hour or so, feeling fat and hating...so much... that i am.... so large.
now. this may seem like an overreaction, but that's because no one but myself can truly understand the love affair that i have with food.
except doughnuts. and licorice. those are pure satanic fodder, no matter what my husband would have you believe.
i do, truly, love food. i love that creamy, smooth feel of perfectly baked cheesecake hitting my tongue. i love the salty cheesy warm hug that a cheeseburger gives my mouth. i love the satisfying mastication of pasta and its rich and hearty weight as it hits my stomach and lets me know that it's all okay because soon i won't be hungry anymore. i love the gooey chocolatey goodness of a hot-out-of-the-oven homemade chocolate chip cookie. and i love the fluffy sugary bliss of a citrus cupcake (orange cake, maraschino cherry pushed into the middle as a surprise, lemon frosting, and sprinkles) as it hits my tastebuds and sends me into a feeding frenzy.
so this "not eating whatever my body demands" and "watching my calorie intake" just sucks balls.
every day i feel like having an infantile temper tantrum. but i don't. because i don't want Ronin thinking that that's the proper reaction to not having 4 Meat extra cheese pizza.
sheesh. even as i type this i'm salivating.
Krista's Thoughts (waaaaaaaay) Before Bedtime:
1. so some math symbols, pi (3.14......) and i (the square root of -1) got into a fight the other day. i didn't hear all of it, but i did here the end. i said "be rational!!" and pi said "get real!!" . guffaw. i love math jokes.
2. ladies, if you cherish your carefully sculpted abs, then NEVER let anyone slice through them in attempts to pull your offspring out of you. i mean, if you can help it.
3. i proclaim DEATH to this 48+ hour headache. i'ma try the tylenol again, but if it doesn't go away i'm getting the chisel and going after it Dr. Stein style! and if it works, i could be the best doctor in Orange County! (get it? get it?)
4. i love a mild Boston accent.
5. i'd be such a good mom if only i wasn't so much of an airhead. i went to Northern VIRGINIA in the FALL. OCTOBER. and didn't pack any long pants for my son. NONE. oh. my. god i'm retarded. it was supposed to be in the low seventies, and i get here and it's "a high of 55 degrees today" and i'm looking like a terrible mother because my poor perfect offspring is forced to romp around in a one-sie and shorts. thank God for daddy bringing long pants by, and Old Navy for having the things that i forgot.
6. iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm so hungry i'm having trouble having thoughts about anything else.
7. hmm.... Sarah Jessica Parker really does have a horse face.
8. i think i'd like to have a bear as a pet. a nice gentle bear that i could saddle up and ride. we'd saunter into town and growl at everyone and they'd be forced to give us free cheesecake. and liposuction.
9. if a vampire gets a splinter, does he "die"? cuz... it's kind of like a mini-wooden stake... discuss.
10. i got whistled at today as i was pushing Ronin to the park in his stroller. YES!!! i can still be sexually objectified by men!! i haven't completely lost "it"!! i can still be considered as desirable enough to merit a casual out-the-window-drive-by whistle!! woot! so maybe there's hope for me yet. i'm nowhere NEAR being as hot and tempting as those slutty little perfect bodied women that i envy soooo much.... but at least i'm not a lost cause. some day, some glorious day, i'll be physically attractive enough to "get off" to. i still have my goals and hopes and dreams.
i've been trying for 7+ months now to lose the baby weight and i've finally found a way to do it.
i live, sleep, eat and breathe Obsession. when i wake up i prepare myself for dissappointment in the breakfast department. no pop tarts, no cinnamon rolls, no apple pie, no 8 cupcakes from the baking foray the night before...
just plain ol' fiber packed cereal and light soymilk. maybe coffee.
then i spend the next few hours trying to distract myself from how hungry i am. i run around with my son, i log my caloric intake and sob internally, i go up and down the stairs repeatedly and seemingly aimlessly in an attempt to destroy the calories from breakfast, and i foolishly dream of cupcakes.
then lunch time. i pick and choose my meal, attempting to find something that fills me and still meets the parameters of the calories that i've allowed myself to eat by 1pm. this usually ends up being way less than i feel like i should be ingesting.
so i die a little bit inside.
afternoon.... i hope and pray that the Angel Baby takes a nap so that i can sleep away some of the time between my pitiful meager lunch and the looming glory of dinner....sometimes he does and it's splendid. other times i agonize for hours, doing squats here and there, leg lifts while i watch Ronin play with his toys on the floor, donkey kicks to fix my "saggy booty" as my lover so gingerly labeled it.
every now and again, i hit the gym and frantically/manically attempt to pulverize my fat with as much cardio as i can squeeze in between the time i get there and the time that the nursery attendants come inform me that my darling child has transformed into a screaming banshee. those are the glorious days; the days when i can feel the jiggle being released from my body in the form of pain and sweat.
but all these days end the same. i put my Superior Man-child to bed and stay up doing crunches and booty-squeezy things for about another hour or so, feeling fat and hating...so much... that i am.... so large.
now. this may seem like an overreaction, but that's because no one but myself can truly understand the love affair that i have with food.
except doughnuts. and licorice. those are pure satanic fodder, no matter what my husband would have you believe.
i do, truly, love food. i love that creamy, smooth feel of perfectly baked cheesecake hitting my tongue. i love the salty cheesy warm hug that a cheeseburger gives my mouth. i love the satisfying mastication of pasta and its rich and hearty weight as it hits my stomach and lets me know that it's all okay because soon i won't be hungry anymore. i love the gooey chocolatey goodness of a hot-out-of-the-oven homemade chocolate chip cookie. and i love the fluffy sugary bliss of a citrus cupcake (orange cake, maraschino cherry pushed into the middle as a surprise, lemon frosting, and sprinkles) as it hits my tastebuds and sends me into a feeding frenzy.
so this "not eating whatever my body demands" and "watching my calorie intake" just sucks balls.
every day i feel like having an infantile temper tantrum. but i don't. because i don't want Ronin thinking that that's the proper reaction to not having 4 Meat extra cheese pizza.
sheesh. even as i type this i'm salivating.
Krista's Thoughts (waaaaaaaay) Before Bedtime:
1. so some math symbols, pi (3.14......) and i (the square root of -1) got into a fight the other day. i didn't hear all of it, but i did here the end. i said "be rational!!" and pi said "get real!!" . guffaw. i love math jokes.
2. ladies, if you cherish your carefully sculpted abs, then NEVER let anyone slice through them in attempts to pull your offspring out of you. i mean, if you can help it.
3. i proclaim DEATH to this 48+ hour headache. i'ma try the tylenol again, but if it doesn't go away i'm getting the chisel and going after it Dr. Stein style! and if it works, i could be the best doctor in Orange County! (get it? get it?)
4. i love a mild Boston accent.
5. i'd be such a good mom if only i wasn't so much of an airhead. i went to Northern VIRGINIA in the FALL. OCTOBER. and didn't pack any long pants for my son. NONE. oh. my. god i'm retarded. it was supposed to be in the low seventies, and i get here and it's "a high of 55 degrees today" and i'm looking like a terrible mother because my poor perfect offspring is forced to romp around in a one-sie and shorts. thank God for daddy bringing long pants by, and Old Navy for having the things that i forgot.
6. iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm so hungry i'm having trouble having thoughts about anything else.
7. hmm.... Sarah Jessica Parker really does have a horse face.
8. i think i'd like to have a bear as a pet. a nice gentle bear that i could saddle up and ride. we'd saunter into town and growl at everyone and they'd be forced to give us free cheesecake. and liposuction.
9. if a vampire gets a splinter, does he "die"? cuz... it's kind of like a mini-wooden stake... discuss.
10. i got whistled at today as i was pushing Ronin to the park in his stroller. YES!!! i can still be sexually objectified by men!! i haven't completely lost "it"!! i can still be considered as desirable enough to merit a casual out-the-window-drive-by whistle!! woot! so maybe there's hope for me yet. i'm nowhere NEAR being as hot and tempting as those slutty little perfect bodied women that i envy soooo much.... but at least i'm not a lost cause. some day, some glorious day, i'll be physically attractive enough to "get off" to. i still have my goals and hopes and dreams.
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