Your Ancient Customs Intrigue Me

Yesterday, it started with a nap. A rarity if I ever do so. But if it must be done it is a 20 to 30 minute rest only. Yet, I awoke after an hour of sleeping hard. I immediately wanted to go back to sleep.

Then, I could not be more than 50-feet from the good ole porcelain goddess or god, whatever your preference might be. I still cannot leave this DMZ Longhorn City toto area. A zone that did not formally exist two days ago. My tummy is full of bubbly and not the good kind. It's not good for anyone involved. Trust me on this. I'll spare the details.

Finally, it feels as if a zombie is eating the back of my eyeballs out. Let me tell you what a fantastic feeling that is. My head hurts too. To top things off and make it that much worse, I have lost all sense of my appetite. Everyone knows how much I love my food, the smells, the tastes and the cooking of.

Am I turning into a zombie? Am I in hell?

Maybe, like wine in a decanter, I need air, to relax, to stretch, to become comfortable? I cannot possibly be ill. I have too much to do today, tomorrow and Sunday. Besides, the weather is fantastically beautiful. I have my back door open and it smells like spring. Awesome. I want to walk the dogs, look at pretty flowers bursting out and soak up the gorgeousness of the day(s).

Instead, I sit here telling my seven readers of the fetid stank pit oddball, which is full of decaying nasties; the thing that was formerly known as "me". I'll need to come up with a symbol, just like that guy who is Formerly-Known-As-Prince. Or is he back to being Prince?

Jeebus.

Say a little prayer for me. Please.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm a Guy and Burn 26% More Calories

I'm keeping the hater list short today.

I had a burger with goat cheese for dinner tonight - no french fries. Yeah, I'm working that hard to lose those fat pounds clinging for dear life onto my body. I can still taste the onions - three hours later. I hate that. (Shoish-up about the burger. . . ) I know you don't care what I had for dinner, lunch or even breakfast for that matter. I'm just sayin' I don't like the oniony left-behind taste that stays even after you've brushed the pearly-whites. I. hate. it.

Also, I don't like it when I try to take my contact lenses out where the one in my left eye suctions onto my eyeball like an octopuses tentacle desperately hanging onto that poor fish caught for dinner. That hurts.

Anyway, to end on a good note, because my life is not all that awful. I have had a few really good past couple of days with the husband. This is not unusual in and of itself, I know that. But these past few days have been time well spent together. Why? Because I've forgone the thought processes that I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING (because I do) and listened to the husband. Really listened. And you know what? I learned. A lot.

I think I'm even more in love with him now than I was yesterday.


Please don't puke.





P.S. What do you hate? Tell me what has surprised you in these last few days as well. I want to hear about your hatin' as much as the McLovin'.

There Are No Secrets Better Kept Than the Secrets That Everybody Guesses ~George Bernard Shaw~

Can you guess my secret?

Waking Up Is Hard To Do

Can someone tell me why, an admittedly abhorrent, disagreeable, frightful, ghastly, hideous, lousy and do not forget obnoxious dancer, I. . . errr . . . . I mean, they would purchase "Dance Dance Revolution Universe 2" to play on their husbands XBox 360? And then wonder in complete and utter astonishment as to why they are failing miserably on the beginner workout level? Really. This needs an explanation.

Be Neighborly

The flyer found in the husbands and my mailbox regarding the "Progressive Dinner" to five different homes within in our very own street on February 16th, 2008? We accepted. We greeted. We drank. We discovered. We ate. We walked. We enjoyed.

We have fantastic, fun neighbors! We need to do this more often; just not in 5" stilettos.