tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651217424417577032023-11-15T23:21:42.295-08:00Slightly IrrationalI was once told that for a pretty little thing I have a filthy mouth. I like this story because it implies that I am little, and pretty. As for the filthy mouth- F*** it. My writing is supposed to entertain- not offend. However, if you are offended by what I have to say- read someone else's blog. Enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-2693767256861227402012-04-23T07:31:00.000-07:002012-04-23T07:31:09.148-07:00Hot Dogs and Hampers
This weekend I watched a movie that took place in the 50’s. The movie left me contemplating how the role of the Lady of the House has changed over the years. In the 50’s most women did not work outside of the home. They spent their days caring for their family and their dwelling. They made careers out of gardening, ironing, and meat loafing. They were there to make their Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-47547456210601194452012-02-22T12:18:00.001-08:002012-02-22T12:18:34.197-08:00Lessons in Love from Smug and In LoveI
read a quote today- it said ”Every woman deserves a man that makes her forget
that her heart was ever broken.” It was an ironic time to have read the
quote as last night a few girlfriends and myself spent much of the evening
consoling a friend who was recently broken hearted. After the girls left,
I looked at Mr. Not So New and once again felt an overwhelming love and
gratitude for Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-17712029673370450772012-02-10T10:11:00.000-08:002012-02-10T10:11:31.784-08:00Officer Cry BabyRecently for my real job- I call it my real job because I have many imaginary ones. For example I am a star of the Real Housewives of Rutland County reality show, I am Tom Brady’s personal masseuse and of course a famous writer. Any way as I began- as an obligation to the job that is not only in existence in my head, I attended a meeting based on hiring the men and women that are returning from Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-23334126526198899202011-11-11T05:47:00.000-08:002011-11-11T05:47:41.510-08:00Drumroll Please It is the moment that we have all been waiting for. The moment in which my dedication and motivation is put to the test. The moment in which Beth the Deaths coaching and training skills are measured quite literally as is the circumference of my ass. In the beginning of the week I confessed to BTD that I was not too hopeful for results. I have been feeling down about Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-89230123730037760022011-11-04T06:55:00.000-07:002011-11-04T06:55:44.838-07:00Bluntness and Body ImageMy friends and I are how you say…blunt. Sometimes the level of our bluntness gets us in trouble…with each other. Recently, my blunt friend- we will call Red approached me about something she had on her mind. She asked me if I was at all concerned that my blog might offend people. She was concerned that there might be overweight people out there reading my blog and cussing me for being a skinny Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-87027132310341295322011-11-03T06:51:00.001-07:002011-11-03T06:51:37.355-07:00While She was GoneBeth is back. I didn’t have good news for her when she arrived at my door- kettle bell in hand. I wanted to tell her that I did everything she told me to do- I wanted to tell her that I have given up wine and had fallen in love with exercise. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t eat any Halloween candy and that I said no to pasta…Here is what I did tell her
Ummmm….I didn’t get a chance to Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-18982203175089122502011-10-21T07:04:00.000-07:002011-10-21T07:04:02.596-07:00Walloping Asses and Will PowerCardio is my nemesis. I hate it. I hate it as much as I hate water, and will power and Tyra Banks. But I know it is necessary. You know why it is necessary? Because as I was jogging around the yard with a resistance band held out in front of me, making me look like some exercise crazed Zombie, my ass was walloping. That is the only word I can think of. It was like it was its own creature and I Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-48826723188907634652011-10-20T11:31:00.000-07:002011-10-20T11:31:23.371-07:00Intimate Moments with Blue BallsTyping this blog hurts a bit. That is because yesterday Beth the Death put my upper body through one hell of a work out and I am reminded of this every time I move. Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit, I am not uncomfortable but I do feel in desperate need of a massage. Usually if I want a massage I have to first…well never mind.
Some of the moves that Beth had me doing last night, I was Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-20882660687822705822011-10-14T13:39:00.000-07:002011-10-14T13:39:19.110-07:00BEFORE SHOTUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-19979399408784985912011-10-14T06:49:00.000-07:002011-10-14T06:49:02.297-07:00Workouts, Whining and WingsI have changed the nick name for Beth. It is no longer Rocking Body Beth, It is Beth the Death as in that skinny little thing is going to be the death of me. After Tuesdays work out I was feeling quite sore. By quite sore I mean that every time I walked down a flight of stairs I seriously contemplated just tucking, rolling and praying for a safe landing. I hovered over the toilet seat like a Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-13602713776187654142011-10-12T06:27:00.000-07:002011-10-12T06:27:39.779-07:00Feel the BurnIn an effort to get a reduced rate on personal training sessions, I have agreed to be the model client for Killington Bootcamp. This means that I am working out 2x's a week with Beth Roberts and allowing her to track my progress on her website. Little did she know when striking a deal with me that I am an attention whore and would have done so gladly regardless of a discounted rate. Anyway, the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-90316068812308463082011-07-19T07:19:00.000-07:002011-07-19T08:47:36.210-07:00Good Morning Vietnam!Alright , I know that I have been bragging to you about my happiness- well hold on partners I have a bit of bitching to do. Yes, I am still blissfully happy, but don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually wake to birds chirping, heavens opening and sun shining on my flawless face. I still wake to a toddler standing at the top of the stairs- screeching to rival a hyena’s mating call “Mooooommmmmyyyy!!!”Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-1227945590607508792011-07-15T06:02:00.001-07:002011-07-15T06:02:37.482-07:00I'm BAAAACKKKOk I’m sorry- I know it has been awhile since my last blog and I apologize. It’s funny you know? When I wasn’t sure where I was going, when my love life was as successful as Obama’s attack on the deficit, when I needed a break from life- it was humorous to you…right? I get it- there is a reason why I stayed up last night until 11 watching Tru TV’s Dumbest Partiers. People that can’t get their Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-80048458153089097112011-05-02T06:12:00.000-07:002011-05-02T06:12:50.438-07:00Oh Nuts!!!Ever since I can remember my father has been at war. No, he is not a soldier in the US military. He had no part in the death of Bin Laden. My father has been in an on-going battle with the squirrels of Proctor Vermont. Each year the battle intensifies and my father’s methods and weapons of choice vary.
One year he bought a bird feeder with a special ring around the bottom. If light weight birdsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-48244323623642910822011-04-28T08:33:00.000-07:002011-04-28T08:33:23.287-07:00Royal Wedding My ArseEvery girl dreams of being a princess right? Actually, I know you won't believe this but that was never a dream of mine. I dreamt of being lost in the woods like the boy in the book Hatchet. I watched a 60 Minutes episode about a woman that had no arms and had to brush her teeth with her feet- oh how I longed for that talent. If the Little Mermaid counts I guess I dreamt ofUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-86513096966455294142011-04-14T06:26:00.000-07:002011-04-14T06:27:43.826-07:00HonestlyI have taken on a new strategy with dating Mr New that I have never really tried before. It is called Honesty. For those of you that have no idea what this concept is about, let me clarify. From day one of dating Mr. New I have been honest (not lied or mislead) to the point of which I may scare him a bit.
My theory behind this new and foreign concept to me is that Mr. NewUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-49423463940537103932011-04-01T06:54:00.000-07:002011-04-01T06:54:41.008-07:00Excuse Me...Things are still wonderful with Mr New. I still have butterflies and the plastic smell has yet to wear off. But there is one thing. Mr. New is not shy, he is not modest and he is not aware of the fact that I may be. OK- I know you are thinking..her? modest? I know I share pretty much every aspect of my life with the world (ha ha- wishful thinking that the whole worldUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-16128402310444707852011-03-24T05:41:00.000-07:002011-03-24T05:41:19.253-07:00If I were a Star...It's no secret that celebrities like Mariah Carey and Jennifer Lopez flaunt their fame by making the most ridiculous of demands when it comes to what must be in their dressing rooms/ tour busses and hotel rooms prior to their grande arrivals. Mariah Carey has been said to bathe both herself and her dog in nothing but mineral water and needs a new toilet seat installed Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-66529165778197778152011-03-14T10:30:00.000-07:002011-03-14T10:30:04.297-07:00Mr. New and His NewnessI have not fallen off the face of the earth. I have not been in a coma for the last month and a half…I have been relishing in the happiness that a new relationship can bring. I apologize for abandoning you but my mind has been quite occupied. I have been busy with butterflies, perma- grins, and dinner dates. It has been about a month and a half now and I am beginning to wonder- how long can the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-77920737802883910362011-02-28T09:38:00.000-08:002011-02-28T09:38:02.043-08:00Bad PressApparently I have an Un Fan- below is a comment received on my last post:
you're fucking bonkers. please buy a journal...and see a therapist who specializes in personality disorders... your sniveling is more than obnoxious, it's revolting. and yet you seem amused by yourself. a true narcissist. pathetic. do your poor child a favor and get help fast.
Being the narccissist that I have been acusedUnknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-7964692642708109352011-02-17T07:59:00.000-08:002011-02-17T07:59:47.769-08:00Worry worry worryI worry. I worry that blogging about my worrying might scare people off. I worry that you think I am talking about you, as in you think I'm worried about scarring you off. I wake up in the morning and worry that all the drinking I did the night before is going to make it impossible for me to fit into any of my clothes. I worry that my butt looks big and my hair looks flat.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-72548628051312801482011-01-31T12:29:00.000-08:002011-01-31T12:29:21.899-08:00One Flew Over the Coo Coo's NestThe following entry is a backwards time line of my weekend- enjoy!!!
2:00 pm Sunday – Stepmother, father and I bid goodbye to Vee (my 87 year old grandmother), she is in her new apartment at the elderly community. Her neighbors Camilla and Harold have just introduced themselves and already the three are singing- out of tune, but none of them seem to notice…except for the three of us in the Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-73845564099862673822011-01-28T06:53:00.000-08:002011-01-28T06:55:18.330-08:00Good News/ Bad NewsThe good news is Little Man is potty trained.
The Bad news is we have a 2.33 second window to rip off his pants, scoop him up and run him half naked through the kitchen into the bathroom before he begins the process.
The good news is I found a house to rent.
The bad news is my father seems to forget that I have lived on my own for 11 years now and still finds the need to inform me that “Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-61594423995315228962011-01-27T11:38:00.000-08:002011-01-27T11:38:41.751-08:00Oopsie DaisyThis morning woke up from a bad dream. In the dream I found out that I had a thyroid condition and that meant that not only had I been wasting the last month of my time at the gym trying to sweat off my love handles but that I was not going to resemble Twiggy on my France trip what so ever. I woke startled and hit my head on the ceiling. No, I do not live on the 13th1/2 floor like John Malkovich,Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-40452016970348428862010-12-17T12:55:00.001-08:002010-12-17T12:55:59.913-08:00Christmas BushWhen picturing the memory making moment of picking out a Christmas tree, and taking it home to decorate I picture my family like a new aged version of the Walton’s- with 6 less children. I picture my son, and for once his hair does not have two cowlicks and is lying flat on his head. My Hubby and I are holding hands, while the unmistakable voice of Nat King Cole serenades us. The house smells of Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1