Technically, it should be Whoreticulture Friday. For those of you expecting a WF, here is your blog post: Kim Kardashian. Period.
In other news….
Whazzup, Bitches!?! I can’t believe I haven’t even been to the blog since Dec. 26, so Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Boxing Day, etc. I hope you all enjoyed a lovely holiday – mine was fan-effing-tastic, mainly hung out with my Chiclets ate, watched movies, ate, drank wine, ate, read a couple of books, ate….you get the idea. One of our family traditions is that we always do a 750-piece or more jigsaw puzzle. I know how to party, no? I should note that Current Husband refuses to do puzzles, and he takes to our geriatric nursing home bed with his iPad in protest. He’s like Gandhi without the hunger strike.
Oh yeah. I like to party.
Something else we did as a family this year is watch all eight Harry Potter movies from Dec. 21 through Dec. 26, because nothing says Christmas like Voldemort trying to kill you, and the death and resurrection of your favorite wizard. We pulled out our IKEA sectional couch that lifts into one large couchy pad, covered it with comforters, popped popcorn and opened peanut M&M’s (they go together like rumalumalumakadinketydinkdedong), and all five of us plus George the Superpet got on it and got our Harry on. After about the third movie we started speaking to each other in Madonna accent British voices, and saying things like “You have to use the loo? Brilliant!” Another favorite we’re still using is the Hagrid, “I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.” It was a total Slackerfest.
Yay for the British!
For New Year’s, we told the kids they could all have sleepovers, so we ended up with a total of 15 kids in the house, five of whom spent the night with our three. CH and I drank Gruet and ate more cookies and played Scrabble (For the record, I won two games out of three. We are cutthroat competitive with Scrabble. I will cut a bitch for taking my Triple Word Score.) Some folks stopped in for a drink right at midnight, and we slept in the next morning. And then drank awesome coffee and ate monkey bread and egg casserole. Yum. It was all perfection. Until the Wii Fit board RUINED EVERYTHING.
You may recall that I had a goal of gaining a pound a day until 2013. This is, of course, my crafty way of saying I didn’t accidentally gain weight, it was all part of my well thought-out plan. On Jan. 1, 2013, it was Come To Jesus time – CH and I weighed in. We were both honestly a little nervous about it. We both love food, and not in a Call Me Maybe way, but in an Every Breath You Take way. I signed in and the Wii chick said, “Hey HotMomma, I haven’t seen you in 384 days!” I gingerly stepped on the board…the voice said, “ooh” like a accidentally stepped on her toes and perhaps broke one. The dunce music started playing and the Wii said, “You done got FAT, bitch!” What it really said is nothing, but it showed me that I have actually graduated from “Healthy Weight” to “Overweight”. Dang, Wii Fit, that hurts. CH had similar news. We agreed that the party is, indeed, over.
Yesterday, I ate a CLIF bar for breakfast. I had some leftover fajita chicken and peppers for lunch. I did eat some of Oldest Daughter’s homemade mac and cheese, because DAMN. If I don’t encourage her to keep cooking now, she’ll never take over the kitchen for me. I drank water like a camel. I went to the YMCA and rode the elliptical machine for 45 minutes while reading the new Queen Elizabeth biography (very good, BTW). CH and I weighed in and I lost three pounds yesterday. Yay! Victory! Screw you, Wii Fit!
Tomorrow we leave for Nashville. This is a problem.
First, the older kids are going with us, but Youngest Daughter is staying with friends for the weekend, so tonight she wants to have a pizza/movie night with the family because she will miss us. How can I refuse her? Hello pizza, which I will totally have with a Sierra Nevada Torpedo IPA.
Second, we are going to effing NASHVILLE, my mother ship, where they have awesome music and amazing food and conveniently located bars. We’re there for a non-birthday party for a very good friend, and really, won’t I hurt her feelings if I don’t eat and drink? This isn’t about me, people, I really think I need to take one for the team this weekend. Right?
Third, whatever. So I’m old and fat. Like anyone couldn’t see THAT ending coming. SPOILER ALERT: I’m going to look just like my grandma someday very soon, and I will also probably die.
Solution? Drive to von Maur and buy a few long cardigans to hide my bacon, and live it up. Because it’s NASHVILLE, people. And I’m a giver.3