Saturday, November 7, 2009

Just when you think you are losing weight...

Let's talk about how not so fun it is to be asked if you are pregnant when you actually aren't. Whether you are married or single, thin or thick, if you aren't pregnant it hurts to be asked if you are expecting or when you are due.

Once, several years ago and 50lbs heavier a little boy at church poked my stomach and asked with a giggle, "Are you pregnant?" My reply? "Nope, just fat but that was nice of you to ask." He said, "Your welcome" and walked away. I walked away too... all the way home at ate 20 donuts, gained 20lbs and then really looked pregnant.

The other time was yesterday. Here I am losing weight (or so I thought) and someone says, "I don't know you very well and I hope I am not crossing the line... but woman to woman, are you pregnant?"

You have no idea how much I wanted to say, "So glad you asked, why yes I am! I am carrying twins squirrels in my double chins. I am going to name them Dumb and Dumber after you."

But I didn't.

And I wish I did.

I just said, "No... why do you ask?" She said with a nervous laugh, "Well, for a few mornings you looked like you were sick, you have been munching on snacks a lot and you have been forgetful lately." I was pretty impressed that she thought of that stuff on the spot. At least she didn't say, "Because I notice you are peeing a lot and your uterus is huge".

I didn't defend myself... just laughed and said, "Yeah" and went back to munching on my apple.

Those few mornings when I look like I was sick? One morning I forgot to put on eyeliner because I was running late. The other morning my hair was frizzy/curly and I was late to work because of traffic... Being late makes me sick... and so does frizzy hair.

I have been munching a lot lately because I never have time to eat breakfast and lunch so I have to eat whenever I can. You eat an apple and yogurt during the day and then everyone thinks you are pregnant.

And, I have been forgetful because... well, truth is I am conveniently and intentionally forgetting all those things I don't want to do... Like talk to nosey people!

Blah. Next time I hear a question prefaced with "woman to woman..." I am just going to interrupt and say, "Yes. Twin squirrels!" and then turn and walk away.

Sunday, October 18, 2009


Yesterday, I went to the mall with my husband. While he was in the dressing room, I patiently sat in a chair. I must have looked bored because a little boy who was shopping with his dad took pity on me an smiled. Remnants of the chocolate dipped cone from Dairy Queen he consumed minutes earlier framed his grin. The smile shortly went to a stare and finally I said, "hi".

That was enough to incite the precocious 6 year old to talk to me about life, starting kindergarten, and that he wears ties to church.

After a lull in the conversation he looked at me again and said, "It's almost Halloween!". I then asked, "What are you going to be?" He excitedly responded, "Ronald McDonald!"

For a brief moment, I actually liked Halloween. The fact that a 6 year old was delighted about dressing up as a freakishly absurd clown was amusing to me.

I love fall, the colors, caramel apples but Halloween is my least favorite holiday. Before you call me un-American, here are my top ten reasons why:

1. It bugs me when people mispronounce the word, "Halloween". It's not HOLLOWeen, people, it's HALLOWeen!

2. Having my parents inspect my candy for razor blades, arsenic, and glass invoked paranoia and a severe distrust for my neighbors. Wondering if the individually wrapped snickers was injected with cocaine took the fun away!

3. Dressing up like a jack-o-lantern. Parents-- never let your children do this! It gave me a complex. I wore a bright orange oversized sheet, stuffed with newspapers green tights. Going to the bathroom was IMPOSSIBLE! In defense of my parents, I did this of my own volition-- I needed a costume at the last minute and borrowed it from a friend.

4. I almost peed my pants at a Haunted Forest once... or thrice. I wish I could say it happened when I was 5... but I was more like 25. I was on a date-- and he never asked me out again. Come on, incontinence is HOT!

5. The year the beloved faux-wood paneled station wagon got egged by wanna be gangsters... and I had to clean it up.

6. Getting blamed for egging someone's house. I promise I didn't do it... I had better things to do on Halloween, like poke my eyes out with lollipops laced with switchblades.

7. I overdosed on candy corns a few years ago. I now break out in hives at the very sight of them.

8. Why is it that Halloween is every Mormon girl's chance to dress like a hoochie? "What? I dress up like a pole dancer? But it's Halloween!"

9. When I was a kid, we had Halloween one time-- and that was on Halloween, October 31st. Now days, kids have 2 weeks of Halloween and it takes away for the true reason for the season-- to celebrate dead patron saints.

10. Since I never liked to say, "Trick or treat" at the door (I was shy), the neighbors only gave me the nasty candy or if I was lucky, pennies. When I say nasty candy, I mean circus peanuts, wax lips, and those strawberry candies wrapped in strawberry paper. Really, who likes those?

In creating my list of reasons why hate Halloween, I thought of something that I actually like about the holiday--the movie, Watcher in the Woods! NERAK. The best Disney movie ever!

Happy Halloween? And don't forget to inspect your Boston baked beans!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

When the camera doesn't love you as much as you love the camera...

Those who know me know how much I enjoy getting my picture taken. My love for the camera developed soon after I received my first digital. The ability to delete any unflattering picture before it goes to print and the art of positioning the camera to make me look 25 lbs thinner makes me happy.

Well, there are times when I don't have the camera... and when that happens it ain't pretty!

A few weeks ago, the Arizona Republic did a story on the firm where I work. I knew they were coming so I wore my favorite suit, spend hours on my hair, and even wore lipstick. My goal? To have the best picture taken so I can show posterity I really did work for corporate America before I sold Avon.

I really thought there was a chance to have this moment of glory-- after all, the photographer took dozens of pictures of me in action. I was wrong:

I saw the picture when I got to work. My eyes only focused on my double chins! I heard about a million robo-cop jokes for the week after. One of my co-workers drew puppet strings from my hands, as if I was a marionette puppet. I can laugh at myself. Really.
You never realize how many people actually read the paper until there is an embarrassing picture of you published. I got phone calls all day long wondering if I had seen the picture. Comments included, "You look... cute?" or "It's a nice picture?".
My favorite email came from my friend Joel. He said, "Nice Edward Jones article in the Business section of the AZ Republic today. You got your very own photo! I imagine you are supposed to be teaching finance, but it looks like your teaching Kung-Fu! ;)"

I can laugh at my moment of glory, forever kept in my scrapbook. Actually, while putting this article in my scrapbook, I found a few photos taken... before the invention of the digital camera.

This above beauty was taken about 10 years ago on a Relief Society camp out. In case you can't identify me, I am the one wearing over sized gray sweats, an over sized striped shirt and an over sized plaid flannel jacket (that I probably bought at Savers for 99 cents). No wonder I never had a boyfriend!
And the last one I found was also taken in a moment of athletic fame-- my home run in the high school softball game:
Pay no attention the fact my shorts are riding up and that I look like I am running from a Mexican gang.

"Laugh at yourself first, before anyone else can." ~ Elsa Maxwell

Monday, March 23, 2009

Segregation at Lowe's-- Let's Picket

Scott and I were at Lowe's in Tuscon a few weeks ago. Walking down the aisle, I noticed cute, little rocking chairs. Wondering how much they cost, Scott I walked closer to them to check it out the price. That's when we noticed the price tag. It was pretty pricy... 49 bucks for a tiny chair. The economy is really making things expensive! My thoughts were quickly distracted by the title on the price tag: "White Children's Rocker". I thought we got rid of segregation a long time ago!! What they should have written is "Children's Rocker- white". Scott dared me to threaten to sue them for not having a black children's rocker-- you know, just for kicks.

I decided I would just blog about it instead... and maybe file a complaint with Lowe's so they send me a ten percent coupon. That way I could buy us a white children's rocker for only $41.10! And then paint half of it black. Then resell it on Ebay as the "black and white children's rocker" for 55 bucks. I'd make a profit and allow ebony and ivory to live together in perfect harmony...

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Sunday, January 25, 2009

The Wedding

I have been married for almost 3 months now. Time flies! Seems like only yesterday I was wearing the girdle and tossing the boquet! I thought I would put up some some pictures for all you who haven't seem them already on the facebook.

I discovered fake eyelashes. Aside from feeling like Tami Fay Baker, they weren't really all that bad. It took my about 8 hours to get used to and by the end of the night I decided t0 never wear them again unless I am in the Mrs. America pagent.