a kumquat, by any other name...

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!!!

Georgia wants me to be fat.

i've said it before and i'll say it again;  Georgia is the most backwards state that i've ever had the displeasure of living in.  it's like the entire state is hell-bent on reversing the evolution and growth of Man.

example.

Friday morning i went to the local YMCA to sign up.  i gained a tad bit too much weight when i was pregnant (went from 126 lbs to 202 lbs.... oops.  damn you taco bell!!)  and i was really excited to get back to the gym and get rid of the JELL-O (tm) that still lurks beneath my surfaces and makes me all jibbly and gross.

yes, jibbly.

but i digress.  i went, signed up, then figured i'd go home, feed my darling son, change into Sweatin' to the Oldies gear, then head back and get my burn on.

and it was a great plan up until i got back to the YMCA.  i was informed that i was an hour too late for the nursery;  they had closed at 1pm and didn't open back up until 4pm.  no problem.  i went home, played with my Slimeysaurus, fed/changed him, then at 4pm got everything ready to go back to the gym.  nothing would stop me now!!

i opened up my front door.

monsoon.

flooding.

apocalyptic downpour.

and a touch of wind.

this is where i got discouraged.  i closed the door, turned around, got the baby out of his bucket (car seat), and decided to try again in an hour if the rain let up.

it did.

so i did.

i FINALLY get to the gym, the nursery was open, dropped off the smiling angel child, and went and gave myself a good old fashioned whooping.

i sweat so much that if someone had collected it as it plummeted from my body, it would have been enough to drown a whale.

think about it.


the moral of the story is:  the Universe and Georgia teamed up to try and keep me from losing my lard, but i gave them a spanking and came out victorious.  though very very sore.  perhaps i should not have tried to lose all the weight at once after doing next to nothing in the "exercise" department for 14 months.


Krista's Bedtime Thoughts:

*a new segment in which i just purge my brain of the thoughts racing around so that i can go to sleep*

1. it's kind of creepy when a guy compliments my boobs, but it feels WONDERFUL when one of my girlfriends tells me that my rack looks awesome.

2. i'm kind of sad that i didn't have a wedding ceremony/reception. all girls deserve to feel like a beautiful princess on that special day and i just feel like an icky lumpy hag.

3. Sensual Amber soap by Bath & Body Works (TM) smells like an old lady, but i really like it anyway.

4. undercooked salmon + standing up for myself and sending it back = free chicken.

5. i think it's hilarious that it scares my son when i burp.

6. an Orange will now be referred to as a "more than Yellow, but less than Red".

7. i wonder if eating the stickers on fruit will cause cancer over time?

8. geez why have i been so farty today?

9. the Hostess at Chili's really need to keep her "stank eye" in check before she gets popped in da mouf.

10. i need to stop typing/laying on my boobs.   i don't want another "milk explosion" like i had two nights ago.