I'm becoming more and more like my husband every day.
Today I broke nay, shattered, the second set of mini-blinds in our apartment within two weeks. The first set i sic'd the vacuum on. This set I took out with sheer brute force. I guess I just felt like flexing The Hounds otherwise known as my beastly forearms. Anyway. They had it coming.
Kept giving me the stank eye.
Internet scammers are stupid.
I put up a post on Craigslist in hopes of selling the $6,400 dollar diamond ring that I got stuck paying for 4 years ago, and the only responses I've gotten have been from dumbasses that are trying to get one over on me.
Since WHEN do WOMEN offer to buy a ring advertised for $5000 MORE than the asking price for a "dear friend", and need it shipped overseas, and they always ask for my PayPal account and never give a shipping address. Dumb. Just how stupid do you have to be to get suckered into getting your money stolen on the interwebs...
I just wish someone that was ACTUALLY interested in buying the ring would email me.
anywho.
I dunno. I thought about doing a full-out post, but I'm just too tired. My Perfect Darling Angel Child had a hard day today which translates to me holding him most of the day so I'm bushed.
Like two birds.
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1.) The superbowl is stupid. I miss football. Actual. Football. College ball. High School ball. I miss when it was exciting and junk and not about over-the-top pageantry and commercials and commentary. Blood, sweat, and that Hometown feeling. sigh.
2.) Forget pet brushes; my run-of-the-mill hair comb works better for taming my little lions' fur.
3.) Today Ronin got to be Spock. He hurt his little fingers and the way I bandaged them up made him look like he was telling people to "live long and prosper" all day.
4.) Two people told me that I look skinny today. And they're not related to me. Win.
5.) I ate healthy food at the superbowl party today. By default. Ronin wanted to play with the veggies, but he wouldn't eat them; he instead put them in my mouth and laughed while I ate them. Then he stole the fried mozzarella cheese stick out of my hand and ate it before I could get more than one bite in. What a sweet boy, helping mama stay skinny.
6.) Damn that Kardashian woman and her impossibly perky perfect body. No one can live up to that physical standard. Well, no one who's name is Krista Custer who's had a kid and whose skin is riddled with deep purple stretch marks. Did I just make you throw up a little bit?
7.) I've decided, after watching it non-stop this Saturday, that I am officially a Gleek and will be watching the show for the forseeable future.
8.) I think I'm ready for menopause. Mood swings are one of God's cruelest jokes. That and the poor platypus. The kids at school must have really had a field day making fun of him.
9.) I wish my hair would grow faster. I wish it were more like that of a football player's hair; long, flowing, majestic.
10) It must be terrible to be a janitor that works after the superbowl ends. All that confetti. All that glitter. All that spilled beer. All that puke...
Showing posts with label vomit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vomit. Show all posts
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Birthiversary of Death
usually, i take an entire week surrounding September the 9th in order to properly celebrate my general awesomeness, and the fact that i've been on this Earth shedding my happy aura all over it for another glorious year. because my birthday is BIGGER than just one day. since Mike and i have been married, we rolled our anniversary and his birthday into this week long extravaganza; we got married September 10th, and his birthday is on the 14th. we call it "Birthiversary Week". and it is an overwhelming 7 day expression of love, joy, happiness, and usually way too much sugar.
however.
this year, Birthiversary Sucked Ass. i very nearly died. it was nearly a class 7 catastrophe. oh yeah. and Mike almost kicked off too.
i decided on the 7th to get some Wendy's for Mike and I for lunch; spicy chicken sandwiches - Mike's favorite thing to get at Wendy's. i returned home from the restaurant triumphant, feeling all high and mighty and like the Best Wife Ever for getting Mike something delicious and surprising him.
we ate lunch. i had gotten some chicken nuggets in addition to my sandwich. (enter ominous death music)
i ate one... it tasted funny. like the oil it had been cooked in was at least 8 months old and tainted with metal shavings. but somehow, i muscled through eating the rest of them, save one, which i pressured Mike into eating.
after we ate, Mike went back to work. i spent the next four hours feeling nauseated and having the familar urge to barf and barf thoroughly. Mike got home that evening, i handed off the child, and commenced to spraying the toilet bowl with my innards. this contined for several hours, me barfing, Mike making fun of me, telling me that i have a weak constitution and that i should toughen up, me barfing some more, me barfing into a bucket whilst breastfeeding my son (which takes a certain measure of finesse so as not to vomit on the child), Mike still making fun of me, and me barfing like a champ.
i got the boy in bed, and i had stopped spewing so i went to bed. after all, we had to fly out the next day. then Mike got sick. very loudly. for several hours. HAHAHAHHAHA. i was totally sympathetic while he was ralphing, but now it is hilarious. that's what he gets for taunting me and pointing and laughing while my diseased insides were exploding out of my mouth.
the next day, tired, dehydrated and weak, we hopped on the plane. then we hopped on another plane. sat on the tarmac for an hour before it decided to take off, then hopped on another plane. we got in around 1 am. it was STUPID how tired we were.
the next day, my birthday, we went to my Great Grandmother's funeral. we spent all day it seemed like traveling in a tiny car. with no air conditioning. hell, with no air anything. just 6 people in a tiny sedan, moist, stuffy, cramped, and i got car sick. i felt like death warmed over all day.
the next day was our anniversary. we spent the day having our flight delayed, flying all day, and spending a three hour lay-over in Atlanta.
Ronin was an angel, of course, during all of this. thank God. because i think i might have had to disembowel myself with a sharpened rubix cube if he had been all sick and screamy.
but the trip eventually ended, we got back to Retard-o-Georgia and life is better now.
next year, Birthiversary Week better rock.
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1. the most terrifying supernatural creature is the Werekitten. you know, like a werewolf but it's a kitten. a werekitten. think about it. one minute it's all "i'm cute and fluffy and batting your strings around" and the next it's ripping your limps from your bloody stump of a body and laughing madly in the moonlight. terrifying.
2. Ronin Sneaky Puked me today. i was carrying him around and we were singing silly songs and all of the sudden there's a fountain of used-to-be-milk all over my pants and right foot. and he just looks up at me and grins. the little rascal.
3. i lost two pounds since last week. which is awesome. although i'm sitting here typing and stuffing my face with peanut m&ms.
4. i got a new phone. for those of you that know me and my attatchment to my old phone, this is SHOCKING news. i've had the same old broken cracked po-dunk phone now for four years. and i really didn't want to get rid of it. i called it Old Trusty. but Mike got a new awesome interwebs capable phone and i got one for free so.... yeah. i only accepted the new phone on the condition that we give Old Trusty a proper Viking Funeral. you know, the old phone in a shoe box, floating down a river, all aflame. Rest in Peace my old friend.
5. my new phone is so awesome i want to make sweet sweet love making with it. or at least just cuddle it. probably just cuddle. don't want to put the moves on my new phone too quickly, can't have it thinking i'm a technology whore.
6. i'm a very specific kind of telepathic. i can somehow, magically, tell what my husband wants to eat for lunch the next day, without him telling me, and i will eat it before he gets a chance to. then he will accuse me of "sabotaging" his lunchings, and i will deny his allegations, and then i'll make plans to eat something else and inevitably he will tell me after i've masticated it that he had deliberate plans to eat it. it's a talent. Mike's awfully cute when he threatens to divorce me over little things like that.
7. i've started having a cup of coffee a day. i've joined millions of Americans and have purchased a coffee maker machine technology apparatus. i now drug myself everyday. i made this decision after several nights of waking up wayyyyyyy too often to soothe a crying child. specifically last night. he woke up EVERY HOUR AND A HALF. it was beyond ridiculous. my son loves me.
8. Mike destroyed yet ANOTHER pair of my glasses this week. my favorite sunglasses. that's why i call him the destroyer. he dances joyfully in my tears.
9. it's been nearly a month since my son has Ninja Peed on me. SUCCESS!!!!!
10. birthdays aren't supposed to suck. it still feels like i haven't had one. Mike insisted that his was no big deal this year, which makes me feel kind of stupid and childish for getting so excited about mine. i didn't even get a cupcake.
and y'all KNOW how i feel about cupcakes.
however.
this year, Birthiversary Sucked Ass. i very nearly died. it was nearly a class 7 catastrophe. oh yeah. and Mike almost kicked off too.
i decided on the 7th to get some Wendy's for Mike and I for lunch; spicy chicken sandwiches - Mike's favorite thing to get at Wendy's. i returned home from the restaurant triumphant, feeling all high and mighty and like the Best Wife Ever for getting Mike something delicious and surprising him.
we ate lunch. i had gotten some chicken nuggets in addition to my sandwich. (enter ominous death music)
i ate one... it tasted funny. like the oil it had been cooked in was at least 8 months old and tainted with metal shavings. but somehow, i muscled through eating the rest of them, save one, which i pressured Mike into eating.
after we ate, Mike went back to work. i spent the next four hours feeling nauseated and having the familar urge to barf and barf thoroughly. Mike got home that evening, i handed off the child, and commenced to spraying the toilet bowl with my innards. this contined for several hours, me barfing, Mike making fun of me, telling me that i have a weak constitution and that i should toughen up, me barfing some more, me barfing into a bucket whilst breastfeeding my son (which takes a certain measure of finesse so as not to vomit on the child), Mike still making fun of me, and me barfing like a champ.
i got the boy in bed, and i had stopped spewing so i went to bed. after all, we had to fly out the next day. then Mike got sick. very loudly. for several hours. HAHAHAHHAHA. i was totally sympathetic while he was ralphing, but now it is hilarious. that's what he gets for taunting me and pointing and laughing while my diseased insides were exploding out of my mouth.
the next day, tired, dehydrated and weak, we hopped on the plane. then we hopped on another plane. sat on the tarmac for an hour before it decided to take off, then hopped on another plane. we got in around 1 am. it was STUPID how tired we were.
the next day, my birthday, we went to my Great Grandmother's funeral. we spent all day it seemed like traveling in a tiny car. with no air conditioning. hell, with no air anything. just 6 people in a tiny sedan, moist, stuffy, cramped, and i got car sick. i felt like death warmed over all day.
the next day was our anniversary. we spent the day having our flight delayed, flying all day, and spending a three hour lay-over in Atlanta.
Ronin was an angel, of course, during all of this. thank God. because i think i might have had to disembowel myself with a sharpened rubix cube if he had been all sick and screamy.
but the trip eventually ended, we got back to Retard-o-Georgia and life is better now.
next year, Birthiversary Week better rock.
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1. the most terrifying supernatural creature is the Werekitten. you know, like a werewolf but it's a kitten. a werekitten. think about it. one minute it's all "i'm cute and fluffy and batting your strings around" and the next it's ripping your limps from your bloody stump of a body and laughing madly in the moonlight. terrifying.
2. Ronin Sneaky Puked me today. i was carrying him around and we were singing silly songs and all of the sudden there's a fountain of used-to-be-milk all over my pants and right foot. and he just looks up at me and grins. the little rascal.
3. i lost two pounds since last week. which is awesome. although i'm sitting here typing and stuffing my face with peanut m&ms.
4. i got a new phone. for those of you that know me and my attatchment to my old phone, this is SHOCKING news. i've had the same old broken cracked po-dunk phone now for four years. and i really didn't want to get rid of it. i called it Old Trusty. but Mike got a new awesome interwebs capable phone and i got one for free so.... yeah. i only accepted the new phone on the condition that we give Old Trusty a proper Viking Funeral. you know, the old phone in a shoe box, floating down a river, all aflame. Rest in Peace my old friend.
5. my new phone is so awesome i want to make sweet sweet love making with it. or at least just cuddle it. probably just cuddle. don't want to put the moves on my new phone too quickly, can't have it thinking i'm a technology whore.
6. i'm a very specific kind of telepathic. i can somehow, magically, tell what my husband wants to eat for lunch the next day, without him telling me, and i will eat it before he gets a chance to. then he will accuse me of "sabotaging" his lunchings, and i will deny his allegations, and then i'll make plans to eat something else and inevitably he will tell me after i've masticated it that he had deliberate plans to eat it. it's a talent. Mike's awfully cute when he threatens to divorce me over little things like that.
7. i've started having a cup of coffee a day. i've joined millions of Americans and have purchased a coffee maker machine technology apparatus. i now drug myself everyday. i made this decision after several nights of waking up wayyyyyyy too often to soothe a crying child. specifically last night. he woke up EVERY HOUR AND A HALF. it was beyond ridiculous. my son loves me.
8. Mike destroyed yet ANOTHER pair of my glasses this week. my favorite sunglasses. that's why i call him the destroyer. he dances joyfully in my tears.
9. it's been nearly a month since my son has Ninja Peed on me. SUCCESS!!!!!
10. birthdays aren't supposed to suck. it still feels like i haven't had one. Mike insisted that his was no big deal this year, which makes me feel kind of stupid and childish for getting so excited about mine. i didn't even get a cupcake.
and y'all KNOW how i feel about cupcakes.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
blood, pizza, and soiled sushi.
i make interesting food choices. this includes food selection, food preparation, and even my food eating techniques. i don't quite know how or why it started, or what my fascination is with my need to be meticulous about what i ingest, i just know that i've cracked somewhere and it resulted in neurotic behavior.
example.
remember when i wrote about going to the store and purchasing cupcake mix and frosting (along with a car-load of other terribly unhealthy foods)?
well, this is what happened in the aftermath of that fateful grocery shopping foray.
got home from the store.
ate 9 of the twelve rolls of sushi.
decided i needed more soy sauce.
found old bottle of soy sauce in the fridge.
poured copious amounts of soy sauce on the remaining 3 rolls.
ate one, gagged violently, expelled sushi roll into the trash.
checked the expiration date on the bottom of the bottle.
expired in 2008.
manage to suppress a barf.
decide to "whip up" some carrot cake cupcakes.
"whip up" said cupcakes to make me feel better for the loss of the 3 ruined sushi rolls.
proceed to eat 8 cupcakes. 8 whole cupcakes.
feel sick.
put the offspring to bed. stay up for a while, get a call from Mike.
admit my shameful act to my husband.
head to bed.
convince myself to "be an adult" and go down and brush my teeth.
head back up to bed.
stay up fiddling with my blog page, make the excuse on Facebook that i'm too tired to make a post on here.
call my own bluff and spit da trufe with yet another brilliant blog.
wake up.
see the cupcakes....
proceed to eat the remaining SIXTEEN CUPCAKES.
Oh.
My.
God.
feel like i want to die.
suffer dearly for my actions the next time i visit the powder room.
swear off cake for the rest of my life.
drink a V8 so as to cancel out the caloric/sugar intake of the 16 cupcakes.
oddly enough, i felt accomplished because i'd forced myself to finish them off and get them out of the house. and that was all i ate that day. well that and the V8.
second example.
i ate the pizza today.
i eat pizza in a "special" way. i flip it upside down so the cheese is plate-side. then i pinch off pieces of the bread and nibble off the soft doughy underbelly of it and throw away the part that was actually touching the cookie sheet i cooked it on. then i get to the crust. the cheese-stuffed crust. i remove the cheese, effectively unstuffing the crust, and devour it. next i eat the cheese/toppings that are now laying on the plate all helpless and dejected because i waited so long to eat them.
poor pizza. did it really deserve to be mutilated like that?
absolutely it did. that's what it gets for being so bad for me and yet so sexy and alluring. stupid pizza.
i think that's why i don't often find myself eating vegetables. vegetables aren't nearly as fun to disect and disembowel.
my Slimeysaurus is demanding my full attention. i guess that's the end of my Discourse on Krista's Food Habits.
Krista's Tip of the Day:
Ladies, there comes a time every month where we decide that life just kind of sucks balls. we feel all gross, fat, bloaty, nauseated, full of pain and Blood-Shot-Eyes-Fire-Breathing-Baby-Bunny-Slaughtering-Banshee-Murder-RAGE.
It's times like this that we can turn to the End-All Cure-All Therapeutic Device: the Television.
Feeling Fat and Bloated? go watch "dance your ass off", or one of those "Half Ton Teens" shows on Discovery. the hick mother that has been shoveling fat and sugar into her kid's face, who is in disbelief over how her precious angel could have gotten that big, will make you feel all thin, beautiful, educated, and healthy. problem solved.
Feeling Crampy and in Pain? grab your Ben & Jerry's (tm) and head on over to the Oxygen channel and watch The Notebook. don't worry about checking TV guide for show times because it is ALWAYS on. cry over Allie and Noah's pain of being separated and let the healing begin!
Feeling Full of Blood-Shot-Eyes-Fire-Breathing-Baby-Bunny-Slaughtering-Banshee-Murder-RAGE? you've hit the jackpot, girlfriend. pop on over to America's Next Top Model (my personal favorite), the Bad Girls' Club, or any of the "New Jersey" shows. proceed to yell at the stupid skanky whores. they deserve it. keep watching until you either go hoarse from screaming expletives, or until you gain that shiny fluffy sense of self-righteous superiority. if all this doesn't dispel your rage you may need to go watch a "Snapped" marathon.
i know that when i'm feeling especially bitchy, i like to watch it and smile, silently congratulating the clever ones that get away with it, so to speak.
Enjoy, my lovely lady friends! and kudos to Tash for being my inspiration this evening. she gets 7 points, a gold star, and a cupcake.
example.
remember when i wrote about going to the store and purchasing cupcake mix and frosting (along with a car-load of other terribly unhealthy foods)?
well, this is what happened in the aftermath of that fateful grocery shopping foray.
got home from the store.
ate 9 of the twelve rolls of sushi.
decided i needed more soy sauce.
found old bottle of soy sauce in the fridge.
poured copious amounts of soy sauce on the remaining 3 rolls.
ate one, gagged violently, expelled sushi roll into the trash.
checked the expiration date on the bottom of the bottle.
expired in 2008.
manage to suppress a barf.
decide to "whip up" some carrot cake cupcakes.
"whip up" said cupcakes to make me feel better for the loss of the 3 ruined sushi rolls.
proceed to eat 8 cupcakes. 8 whole cupcakes.
feel sick.
put the offspring to bed. stay up for a while, get a call from Mike.
admit my shameful act to my husband.
head to bed.
convince myself to "be an adult" and go down and brush my teeth.
head back up to bed.
stay up fiddling with my blog page, make the excuse on Facebook that i'm too tired to make a post on here.
call my own bluff and spit da trufe with yet another brilliant blog.
wake up.
see the cupcakes....
proceed to eat the remaining SIXTEEN CUPCAKES.
Oh.
My.
God.
feel like i want to die.
suffer dearly for my actions the next time i visit the powder room.
swear off cake for the rest of my life.
drink a V8 so as to cancel out the caloric/sugar intake of the 16 cupcakes.
oddly enough, i felt accomplished because i'd forced myself to finish them off and get them out of the house. and that was all i ate that day. well that and the V8.
second example.
i ate the pizza today.
i eat pizza in a "special" way. i flip it upside down so the cheese is plate-side. then i pinch off pieces of the bread and nibble off the soft doughy underbelly of it and throw away the part that was actually touching the cookie sheet i cooked it on. then i get to the crust. the cheese-stuffed crust. i remove the cheese, effectively unstuffing the crust, and devour it. next i eat the cheese/toppings that are now laying on the plate all helpless and dejected because i waited so long to eat them.
poor pizza. did it really deserve to be mutilated like that?
absolutely it did. that's what it gets for being so bad for me and yet so sexy and alluring. stupid pizza.
i think that's why i don't often find myself eating vegetables. vegetables aren't nearly as fun to disect and disembowel.
my Slimeysaurus is demanding my full attention. i guess that's the end of my Discourse on Krista's Food Habits.
Krista's Tip of the Day:
Ladies, there comes a time every month where we decide that life just kind of sucks balls. we feel all gross, fat, bloaty, nauseated, full of pain and Blood-Shot-Eyes-Fire-Breathing-Baby-Bunny-Slaughtering-Banshee-Murder-RAGE.
It's times like this that we can turn to the End-All Cure-All Therapeutic Device: the Television.
Feeling Fat and Bloated? go watch "dance your ass off", or one of those "Half Ton Teens" shows on Discovery. the hick mother that has been shoveling fat and sugar into her kid's face, who is in disbelief over how her precious angel could have gotten that big, will make you feel all thin, beautiful, educated, and healthy. problem solved.
Feeling Crampy and in Pain? grab your Ben & Jerry's (tm) and head on over to the Oxygen channel and watch The Notebook. don't worry about checking TV guide for show times because it is ALWAYS on. cry over Allie and Noah's pain of being separated and let the healing begin!
Feeling Full of Blood-Shot-Eyes-Fire-Breathing-Baby-Bunny-Slaughtering-Banshee-Murder-RAGE? you've hit the jackpot, girlfriend. pop on over to America's Next Top Model (my personal favorite), the Bad Girls' Club, or any of the "New Jersey" shows. proceed to yell at the stupid skanky whores. they deserve it. keep watching until you either go hoarse from screaming expletives, or until you gain that shiny fluffy sense of self-righteous superiority. if all this doesn't dispel your rage you may need to go watch a "Snapped" marathon.
i know that when i'm feeling especially bitchy, i like to watch it and smile, silently congratulating the clever ones that get away with it, so to speak.
Enjoy, my lovely lady friends! and kudos to Tash for being my inspiration this evening. she gets 7 points, a gold star, and a cupcake.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)