Krista The Texan Christmas Flatworm

new year, new blog post. it's only fair.

i've not been good. it's funny how the opposite of Self Control is two acts of Loss Of Self Control. so i guess it all evens out. i really do need to think about finding a way to help myself stop purging. it's just not good for my teeth. and eventually i'm going to sound like a chain smoker cuz my esophagus will be ripped up beyond repair.

and that's not good at all.

but anyway. that's not really what i want to focus on. it doesn't make for a good read and definitely doesn't conjure up any laughs. well.... it might if you're more messed up than i am. so laugh at the fact that you know what i'm going through. laugh at the irony. but if you're just laughing at me to be a meanie then go screw yourself.


switching gears.

i love going on vacation. i love traveling and seeing family. and i love my son and husband.
i'd say the best part of seeing family is that they love to play with my little guy and i get to have my hands free!! now, i know i probably should have used the "free hands" to write blogs.... but i decided to read instead.

i never get to read.

what was my book of choice? why, the last book in the Twilight series, Breaking Dawn. i thoroughly enjoy the series, even though my hubby has labeled it as "garbage".  only joking of course, but that's cuz he's a bum and hasn't read them and likes to rib on me. 

i think the only thing i'd change about the whole Twilight experience is the movies. what were they thinking? Robert Pattinson and Kristin Stewart? really? both of them can barely act. sure maybe the Pattinson kid is cute but not what i envisioned at all while reading the books. maybe they should have gotten that Efron guy. and i'd definitely rather watch Emma Stone as Bella. she's way cuter and a better actress.

anyway, those are my first draft picks.

i'm watching Vampires Suck right now and it's... dumb.


Mike and i got two tickets to go see the Nutcracker Ballet for Christmas. Awesome. we had a lovely night...

Hide And Seek D.C. Part Two, or, Krista the Texan Christmas Flatworm.

we headed off to the Metro to head to downtown D.C.
while waiting in the freezing cold and tiny-falling-snow for the train we thought it might be fun to play Hide and Seek D.C.

for all of you that haven't read the particular previous post, Hide and Seek D.C. is when we both hop on the Metro, and then Mike tries to shove me out of the moving train onto the tracks. i then have the option to either try to find him as he roams around D.C, find my way back to the house on foot, or i can become Queen of the Bums and reign over D.C.'s down-and-out-society.

so Mike fake-tiny-shoved me towards the tracks, and i responded with "i don't want to play Flat-Worms right now"!
Mike - "what is Flatworms?"
"it's where you lay down across the tracks and you get reeeeeally flat so when the train comes you don't get hurt as it runs you over"
"so you're a flatworm now, are you?"
"yes. i'm a flatworm. a Christmas flatworm."
"a Texan Christmas flatworm..."

we eventually boarded the metro and found ourselves amongst a few bums. Mike was pretty sure i was going to just take the option of becoming Queen of the Bums, so we discussed which one i'd probably run off with.

(ok. this isn't much fun as a play by play; so i'm going to just go with action snippets.)

went to a restaurant across from the ballet theatre that promised food, libation and merriment.
looked up the definition of libation.
decided that libation sounded pretty good.
ordered a riesling.
saw that they had Macaroni Lollipops as an appetizer.
so... what is a Macaroni Lollipop?
is it an elbow macaroni shaped piece of candy on a stick?
or a ball of macaroni and cheese on a stick?
why hadn't i heard of these before?
Mike said he hid their existance from me for  my own good.
saw two ballerinas gettin' their drink on in the next booth.
ate one of the best cheeseburgers i've ever had.
headed over to the theatre for the ballet.
got a 9 dollar plastic cup of chardonnay.
proceeded to get a little sloppy during the first act.
decided that i missed ballet; the sore muscles, the performing, the bloody toes from pointe shoes - all of it.
on the metro going home, i found a pair of leather gloves with cashmere lining.
Mike told me I should leave them because they were probably riddled with AIDS.
i proceeded to chase him through the empty metro car trying to accost him with my new-found AIDS gloves that i was fearlessly wearing.
got back out to our car and cursed Virginia for not having snowed enough.
there was only a slight frosting of snow on the car.
barely enought to write obscenities in.
got home, got out of the car, went to bed.

the next morning i found that somehow i'd already lost one of my AIDS gloves. which is really really sad because i loved those poor homeless gloves.

Mike started saying that it was probably for the best and yada-yada, and i put my back against the kitchen wall and started flatworming; i got all pressed against the wall and flat and made this stretched look with my face...

to the untrained eye it might have looked like a vertical seizure.

Mike tried to pull me out of it, but i informed him that i could not hear him due to having no ears; being a flatworm and all.

this turned into one of my new favorite sayings.

"can't hear you, i'm a flatworm!"



New Year's Eve was fun.
we went over to Mike's friend's house.
we brought a plastic tub of watermelon, 2 cheese logs, a ziploc bag of scrambled eggs, and 2 slices of american cheese. you know, being good party guests.
i also brought an empty Mountain Dew can so that i could drink my wine without the fear of spilling it while i made wild hand gestures, as i am want to do.
i knew most of the people there; i'd met most of them before.
but after about 20 minutes, all the guys went and bogarted the TVs to play their stupid video games.
which left us three girls alone.
with nothing to do but stand in the kitchen and eat.
and get fat.
we had nothing to do.
there weren't even any playing cards.
so, after my second Mountain Dew can of wine, i asked Mike to drive us ladies to go get some playing cards since everyone else at the party was completely ignoring us and i didn't want to stand around like a bowl of congealing oatmeal while the guys had fun.
we ended up getting a HUGE bottle of Riesling, a Hello Kitty coloring/activity book, crayons, puppy playing cards, Andes peppermint candies, and Apples to Apples.
we spend the next three hours at the kitched table drinking, singing Backstreet Boys songs, and coloring pages out of the Hello Kitty book.
the pictures ended up having boobies drawn onto Hello Kitty, a lesbian sex scene on the page that was mostly blank with the instructions to "draw a scene from your favorite movie" (ergo, Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis getting frisky in Black Swan), and Hello Kitty serving tea walking across a blue rug with a giant penis on it.
the children's coloring book pages got racier as the evening wore on.
we tried to play Asshole, but were too tipsy to remember the rules so we gave up on the cards and ended up inviting the boys to play Apples to Apples after the midnight count-down.
i smoked 2 cigarettes. i don't often get the urge to smoke, but that night i felt like it. that brings the Grand Cigarette Total up to four whole cigarettes in my entire life.

so today, i'm nursing a bit of a hangover and missing the days when i could just sleep all the time.

i feel like i should make New Year's Resolutions.

usually, i pick these out in October or so of the previous year, but i procrastinated a bit, or so it seems, so i'll just have to come up with a few on the spot here.

Krista's New Year's Resolutions for 2011:

1. Lose 15 pounds; that will put me around roughly 125.

2. Take time to read at least a book a month.

3. I will NOT cut my hair this year; i will resist the urge.

4. Try new things every week (go vegetarian one week, spend a week without tv, a week without sugar, etc.)

5. Cook with more variety; seems like Mike and I stick to the same 10 or so meals and it's boring.



goodnight my friends; and Happy New Year!

my sense of fashion has never been stellar.

i've always been the Cantelope in the Metal Shop of Life.  just completely out of place.  and a bit pale and pasty.  and dimpled.  eww.

allow me to explain.

i've always had a... unique... way of dressing myself.  let me take you on a journey that follows how my concept of the "perfect outfit" has evolved over the years.

age 0-4:  my favorite way to be was just absolutely naked.  i might on occasion throw a diaper on in there, maybe a pair of my mom's pumps, perchance a bunch of those metallic colored star stickers in a geometric pattern on my bare belly.  throw in a couple of oversized gaudy plastic hair clips circa 1983 on my head and you've got a pretty accurate picture of how i spent my early years.

age 5-10: things got a tad better during this span.  i decided that the clothes were not "lava" (remember playing the game "THE FLOOR IS LAVA!!!"?)  and that with the proper sideways ponytail or french braid, that i looked pretty cute.

age 11:  ENTER DISASTER.  it all started when the boobs started growing.  suddenly i was floppy and overly aware of how cold the room was and sooooooooo freaked out about the entire ordeal. going bra shopping for the first time was possibly the most mortifying experience of my life.  it was a blur of mint green sport bras, embarassment, patrolling the store for people that i knew so i could be prepared to instantly die the moment i saw them, and nausea.  after the purchasing was over i vowed that while i now owned several bras, it didn't mean that i actually had to wear them.  haha!!  take THAT Puberty!!  every day that winter when my mom drove me to school i'd quietly slip my bra off in the back seat and stuff it into my backpack.  muah haha!!  NO STRAPPY SATINY PRISON COULD HOLD THESE MELONS!!!!

age 12-13:  the Ladies got too big to ignore so i made peace with the bra. however, other things went seriously, seriously wrong.  i owned a pair of those huge, 1985-movie-villain eyeglasses.  and i had to wear them all the time.  now add braces.  now add huge chunky platform purple skechers.  thrown in a bunch of hand-me-down tee shirts, pants that were too short on me but the perfect length in case of a flood, some homemade dresses, and an extra helping of pimples, and you'll be able to understand the hideousness that was ME in the 6th grade.  this was truly my first Ugly Phase.  my husband doesn't believe that i ever had one so when i went to Texas earlier this summer i picked up some old pictures to prove it to him.  i fear for any daughters that we may have in the future.

age 14-16:  thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis part got... better?  well, if you consider purple lip liner, pale pink shimmer lipstick, glitter, blue mascara, baby blue parachute-feeling rave pants, and whacky artsy tops better.  i'm not sure that i do.  i also had a bright orange shirt that had a turtle on a skateboard with flames coming out the back of the board that read "i've got the need for speed" at the top.  i had reached Coolness.  and it was about time.  high school had just struck and it was make-it or break it time.

age 17-21: these were my "i feel pretty, oh so pretty" years.  delicate skirts, cute jeans, fitted tops that complemented my slammin Prancer Drill/Dance Team Bod.  long curly hair... yessir i was doing alright.  and then the Army happened...

age 21-25:  i, uh, went a little nuts.  bought a dress in Hawaii that was pretty much just a large silky handkerchief and two pieces of string.  i had a pair of those loud neon plaid short shorts.  had a bunch of halter tops, a blue tube top with stars on it, and somewhere in there several pairs of Child Size Extra-Large Full Length Fuzzy Bright Pink Zip-Up Feetsie Jammies with penguins on them.  which i loved to wear.  in my barracks room.  all the time. this, ladies and gentlemen is what the new face of the Army looks like.  and it's wearing Feetsie Jammies.  kind of makes you feel all safe and secure knowing that hardened Soldiers like me are out there doesn't it?  oh and then there was The Mohawk.  this Mohawk won me the attention of the man that would later become my husband.  it was a SOLID and excellent Life Decision.

present:  ugh.  i'm in the Post Partum Ick phase which will only end once i can squeeze back into my jeans again.  i'm making progress.  they now come up over my thighs but no where near containing my new Jell-o Jigglers (registered trademark) inspired butt.  maybe if i rub my rump with crisco then try to slurp my hindquarters into them...



*note to self:   buy more crisco... maybe some Pam...*


Krista's Tip of the Day:

Beauty pageants are not cute.  even the best "trained" little girl still looks like the last flailing flops of a dying trout when she goes up to "shake her money maker" on the judging stage.  barf.  half the time the girls cry, wet their pants, their fake hair/eyelashes/teeth (my God are they robots?!?!) fall out, or they freeze up and get that weird look on their mugs like "oh dear God all of these freaky people are looking at me.. i completely forgot what to do... i want to watch Dora and BackPack.... oh look, there's glitter on the floor!"

bottom line, don't dress your ugly kid up in $700 frilly monstrosities and parade them around in the hopes that they'll win a plastic and rhinestone crown so as to boost their delicate self esteem.   what you're really doing is training these poor girls to be floosies and hussies.  what?  yes.  i am right.  and Kathy Griffin agrees with me.

that's all the validation i need.




(thanks to Mike and Regina for posting links to this blog on their Facebook pages, and an extra thank you to Regina for helping to inspire the Tip of the Day; y'all rock!)