Skinny Scrapbooking

Honey, I’m ho-ome.  Did you miss me?  First, let me start by saying that I appreciate your patience and your loyalty.  Second, I know I said I was going to post a picture of myself each week of my weight loss but I’m not going to now.  You can’t really tell I’ve lost weight, actually you can’t tell at all.  So you will have to wait until there is a noticeable difference.  It could be a while.  I will keep you updated on my progress though.  Lucky you.

The last 2 weeks have been a bit difficult.  It didn’t go by without a struggle.  As you know, I went to a scrapbooking retreat for 3 days.  Let me tell you, that really put me to the test.  Let me also tell you that there was enough food to choke a horse.  And alcohol.  And….food.

There was this.  It was pretty much on this table the entire time:

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I took 2 cookies in a three day span.  And if you know me, that is really, really good.  But damn, I wanted that thing on the right so bad.  With it’s yummy cream cheese filling and Lord knows what else.

So, instead I snacked on this:

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Ok, so I ate a LOT of hummus, but it was definitely the better choice over potato chips and brownies.  I also ate a lot of veggies.  I have never been so “regular” in my life.

Friday night was pizza night, with salad.  I had a crapload of salad and a piece of pizza.  Ok, 2 pieces of pizza.  I know.  Not good.  But I am a 3-4 slice girl so in reality that is pretty good for me.  I just love to eat so much.  Generally, I eat more than DH.  That is why his stomach is a flat as a washboard and mine, well, isn’t.

Then there was the free breakfast buffet at the hotel.  I’m not talking danish and bagels either.  There was the whole kit and caboodle.  Three of my favorite breakfast foods were present: sausage, bacon and home fries.  There was even an omelet station.  I took not one single item from the “Food with Actual Taste” section. This is what I had both days with a side of fruit:

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As for alcohol?  Not one drop of wine.  But lots of drops of this:

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I had a free ticket to drink up because it said “Light” on the label, so I  had 2 glasses.  Ok,  I lie.  It was more like 4 glasses.  Each night.  4 BIG glasses.  As well as calories, it also must be light on the alcohol because after 4 glasses I didn’t even catch so much as a buzz so it was a complete waste.  I should have stuck to water.

Saturday morning I spent 45 minutes in the hotel gym.  All the while missing some really great scrapbooking demonstrations that the hostess was giving.  But I worked out.  Here I am on the incumbent bike.  I also did the treadmill and the elliptical.  I burned off 2 glasses of margaritas.  I know.  It’s a load of crap.  But I guess it’s better than nothing.

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So to recap.  I ate more than I wanted but less than I would have.  The same thing goes for alcohol. I worked out once.  Should have been twice.  But that’s ok.  I was there to scrapbook and be with friends.  As my girlfriends not so nicely put it.

When I returned home, I worked out every day (ok, I skipped Friday — big mistake), didn’t drink (oops, except Monday night — thank God for Bethany Frankel), ate enough vegetables to keep the farming industry in business for another 10 years and kept all bad, fattening and basically any food with flavor away from my mouth.  I am reading labels like a novel and giving the kid a hard time about all the crap that goes into HER mouth.  Let’s face it, she hasn’t taken after her dad in the eating department.

Oh, and I drank so much water, I felt like a fish.  Do fish actually drink water?

Oh, and I’ve lost 3.8 pounds.  I think that’s pretty good if I do say so myself.  I deserve a glass of wine.  Oh, oops.  I can’t.  Not for another 4 weeks.  It’s going to be a long month.

Snow Bored-ing

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I was bored during the storm today.  I figured I probably should try to actually do something before I developed hemorrhoids from sitting on the couch for too long.  So, I decided to google what to do during a blizzard.  Here were the top 10 suggestions and why they just weren’t going to work out for me:

1)  Shovel – that’s what I have a husband for.
2)  Build a snowman – that’s what I have a kid for.
3)  Sit by the fire – Since the kindling is buried in half a foot of snow, that doesn’t appear to be happening.
4)  Go sledding – I like my head in one piece, thank you very much.  Besides, I’ll probably just pee my pants.  Watch out for the yellow snow!  Sorry.  I couldn’t resist.
5)  Watch TV – No shit Sherlock.  That’s why I’m googling what to do during a blizzard.
6)  Go exploring – Do they think my name is Lewis?  Or Clark?  I don’t know.  Do you see a resemblance?
Lewis and Clark
Lewis and Clark
Me
Me
7)  Cook something –  Hahahahahahahahahaha!  Yeah, right.
8)  Organize your home – Organize my hmmm?  What?  I’m sorry I don’t understand the question.
9)  Play games – Monopoly sucks the life out of me.  Clue?  Mr. Mustard in the Billiard room with the candle stick.  Same shit. Different day.
10) Call a friend – Nah, they are all better mothers than I am and are probably out doing something fun in the snow with their children.  Those bitches are always trying to make me look bad.

 

Oh well.  I tried.  I hope they get the roads cleared soon.  I need to go get some Preparation H.

 

I Am An Addict

Holy crap, I’m obsessed.  I can’t stop.  And I don’t know what to do about it.

The game is called “Scramble.”  Not Scrabble.  Scramble.  The little word game that comes in the form of an app that you can download to your smartphone.  The object is to make as many words as possible in 2 minutes and try to beat your opponent.

I know I have a problem.  Here is a small list of why I think so:

  1. When I should be cleaning the house, but I’m not.  I’m playing Scramble.
  2. Dinner needs to be put on the table.  But it’s not.  I’m playing Scramble.
  3. I should be asleep but I’m not.  Until 1am, I’m playing Scramble.
  4. The kid is speaking to me.  Do I hear her?  No, because I’m playing Scramble.
  5. I should be spending quality time with DH.  The kid is in bed.  We are sharing a bottle of wine.  But I don’t pay attention to him.  Because I’m playing Scramble.
  6. In the car.  Actually, no.  I don’t play in the car because it makes me dizzy.

The really fun part is I can spell bad words.  Like Ass, Shit, Shat and Damn.  It’s so much fun when I can spell out a bad word.  It’s like that thrill you get when you spell a word out with the numbers on a calculator.  hELL.  Ooh, what a rush.

There is a downside though.  This is what I see when I close my eyes:

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I lie there imagining words that I can make.  Sometimes I can’t turn it off.  Sometimes it drives me so crazy I could just about jump off the nearest bridge.  It’s like hearing Roseanne Barr singing one verse of the National Anthem over and over again in your head.

There are a couple of die hards that I play with.  I sit and play and wait for my opponents to take their turn.  Sometimes it can take hours.  What happened?  Are they sick?  Did they get hit by a bus?  Where are they???  Come on people, you’re killing me…..

The kid keeps asking me when I’m going to get sick of it.  Like Facebook, it’s so “yesterday.”  I’m like a crack whore.  I won’t get sick of it.  I can’t get enough.  Ooh, wait.  What’s this “Ruzzle” game all about?  Hmmm.  Maybe I should check it out.

14 Years Equals A Trip Around the World TWICE

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 The kid is an irish dancer.  For anyone who has a child who partakes in the irish dance world (or any major sport for that matter) you understand that it will cost DH and me enough to send her to Harvard 3 times over by the time she is done (ok, I’m exaggerating just a little, but still…).

I was day dreaming today and thinking of all the things I could do if she decided to just join the debate club at school instead.  I felt the need to share to put it all into perspective:

  • 1 year of tuition x 14 years = one in-ground pool
  • 3 solo dresses = a 2-bedroom apartment in NYC’s Upper West Side for a month
  • 3 team dresses = LASIK surgery for my left eye
  • Wigs & Crowns = Tiffany necklace
  • Soft shoes, hard shoes and poodle socks = 27 inch iMac
  • Private lessons (really stupid since we pay an arm and a leg for tuition) = a full body massage
  • 7 years going to Regionals = A 2.5 week trip for two to Hawaii
  • Going to Worlds once (secretly hoping it stays that way) = LASIK surgery for my right eye
  • 14 years of local competitions = One master bathroom renovation
  • Dress alterations = full body massage PLUS facial & manicure
  • 1 happy kid = Priceless or I have to have my head examined, whichever way you want to look at it

When I signed her up, I had no idea what was coming.  Not one person warned me that it would turn into a 4 class a week, competition led sport.  Not ONE!

To add insult to injury the kid loves it.  She dances around the house all day, all night.  Down the hallway, in the shower, during dinner.  If you ever run into us at the mall, you probably will catch a performance.  Rally one, Rally two.  AAAAHHHHH!!!!!!

So, instead of a trip around the world TWICE, I get to sit at competitions all day long.  Who can relate in one form or another? Let’s see, 3 years, 4 months and 21 days until our money is ours again.  Oh wait.  I forgot about college.  Never mind.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year…NOT

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And I’m not talking about Christmas either.  The kid has been a member of the Girls Scouts since 2003.  I love the good ole’ Girl Scouts.  I talk them up every chance I get.  My daughter has learned so much from being a GS.  She can light a fire (I mean camp, and she better keep it that way), she can pitch a tent, she is a master crafter, she has learned respect.  And last but not least, she can make new friends AND keep the old.

One thing she is not good at…selling GS Cookies. Nope, somehow that has become MY job.  What happened to the days of those cute little girl scouts going door to door?  Perhaps it was the realization that there are perverts and child molesters lurking about.

Yup, so in order to keep her safe, I took over the job.  Her leader (God bless her, I don’t know how she does it…in other words, better her than me.) would like for each of them to have a goal of 50 boxes sold.  Sure right okay, as soon as I charter that first flight to Mars.

Look, I know people SAY they look forward to GS cookie time, but do they really?  I have been asking, begging, promising favors in return, for my friends, family, coworkers to buy for years.

It’s for a good cause.  Yes, you can freeze them.  No, you don’t have to pay now.  You’re on a diet?  Well you can donate cookies to the food pantry because they are so nutritious.  My personal favorite complaint: “but they are $3.50 everywhere else.”

So, every year, I moan, groan and bitch when I see that blasted cookie order form and start on my quest to fill the orders.

On my honor, I will try….oh, who wants cookies???

For the Love of a Log

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Everyone knows how much I love the grocery store.  Well, I didn’t go just once this week, I went TWICE.  Why, you ask?  Because I’m the dumb ass who forgot something, or some things.  Forgetting stuff during Can-Can week is a mortal sin in my book.

I was expecting some friends over Monday night and in addition to some essentials I had, um…forgotten, I wanted to get one of those Dura-Logs so we could have a nice cozy fire.

Anyway, I can’t find the damn log.  I have been up and down every dang isle TWICE looking for it.  I wish Shop Rite would stop moving crap around.  To top it off, I can’t find a single staff member.

I’m ready to sock the idea when I finally see not one, but two store employees talking amongst themselves at the end cap of isle number 14.  I squeeze in as closely as I can to avoid being stampeded and stare at them for a good half minute hoping to catch their attention.  They look at me and continue on.  Great.

So, just to recap real quick…I’m pissed because I’ve walked all over the f’ing store not once, but twice.  I can’t find a single employee who can help me and when I do find an employee, I’m completely ignored.  Oh, and I’m dodging can-loving freaks like bullets.  Do I sound like I’m in a good mood???

Suddenly, I hear this — “look lady, pick a direction and move in it.”  When I look up, I realize he is speaking to me.  He reminded me of Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz with his fingers pointed in both directions, but not so cute.  “You’re holding up traffic.”  Geez, if he only had a brain.

The look I shot Scarecrow could have frozen the Amazon.  I think I actually saw fear in his eyes.  And the log?  I passed the whole blasted stack of ’em coming in the front door.