Archive | December, 2011


27 Dec

As I sit here with heartburn, the worst case of acid reflux I have ever experienced, and my stomach gurgling with a concoction of 12 cookies, a ham and cheese sandwich, at least a liter of pumpkin soup and Everclear spiked apple pie cocktail, I have to wonder how I am not 400 pounds. ¬†However, what I can deduce is that my “front butt” as my brother so eloquently describes it, must come from all of the food I stuff in my face (it certainly doesn’t come from all the sit ups I do, in fact, not do…)

I tend to behave a little on the excessive side when it comes to eating, but around the holidays excessive turns into just disgusting. The food choices and smells make me become almost animalistic; I become an expert food hunter. I crouch behind couches waiting to pounce as soon as the dip is placed on the table. I guard the cookie plate with snarls and I have been known to scratch. I attack my plate of prime rib like it was still alive and fighting. Then, then, when any human would have had their fill, I have another plate of cookies topped with a large glass of egg nog. My stomach hurts just typing my confession…

When will I ever learn that the amazing food I stuff in my gaping face hole is never worth the week long food hangover? When will enough be enough? Do I really have to clear out the entire section of self-help at Barnes & Noble with the smell of death before I feel that my holiday eating habits need to change? I think the fact that in the last two days I have finished off a bottle of maximum strength tums and an entire 12 roll Charmin pack should be enough.

I hereby solemnly swear that for the next 5 months (OK, realistically, the next few days) I will only eat celery and broth. If I continue as I have, this excessive eating thing will make me 400 pounds and no one, not no one wants to be the next Kirstie Alley.



13 Dec

The idyllic path to the banks of Loch Ness

Have you ever had a moment or event in your life that was so spectacular, so memorable, so life-altering that you never go a day without thinking about it? Does this event evoke a fire inside? Does it make life worth living? Does it define what meaning is in your life? This all sounds so deep and philosophical and you will think I am obsessed or just weird when I tell you what my event is, but truly…this event that I was afforded changed my definition of life and happiness. My trip to the UK and Ireland was more than a year ago, but it feels like yesterday that I was driving on the other side of the road, eating fries with my fork and laughing about “emo coos” with Brandon.

Today I took my travel buddy to The Isles, my favorite English/Irish/Welsh tea house, here in Reno. We spent two hours laughing and reliving our favorite tales from the trip. Most of our stories were the same, some we argued about, “Yes, yes, I did lug your 200 pound bag around A LOT more than you remember”, but all were mutually amazing. I told him that I have yet to write about everything I encountered and experienced on the trip and he asked me why. I told him that if I just write it all, in one shot, the memories will be out there and I can’t tell them again. I realize now that, yes, I will have told them all to my blog followers and then it’s done, but they are still in my heart and that is where they are most cherished. I have funny things to tell, heartwarming things, exciting, amazing… and Brandon gave me so many more ideas and memories to share. I cannot wait to pour out my most favorite, cherished stories for all to read. I only hope that when and if you read them, though your memories are vastly different, they evoke in you the same happiness and zest for life I feel.

Telling stories, relating strange observations or simply laying my heart out for all to see makes me the most happiest. Even happier it makes me that I experienced something in my life that will stay with me until the day I die. Memories and lazy day dreams of this trip will make me happy when nothing else can.

Thank you for reading my stories, my words, my heart song.

Toilet Paper

6 Dec

I just had a very confusing trip to the bathroom while at my parent’s house. I did my business, read a little ditty about high blood pressure in Woman’s Day and then went for the white stuff…That’s where the confusion started. There were two rolls on the holder. The holder was large enough to fit perfectly two rolls of TP. Two rolls. They were brand-spanking-new and so fat, soft and inviting. I sat there a minute completely lost. Which roll should have the distinct pleasure of meeting my ass? I decided the right one was easier to access and the right side just seemed…well, right. I took a few squares, did my thing and then realized the two rolls looked off balance. I decided to take my new handful of TP from the left to balance it out. After closer inspection, it seemed I took a little too much off the left side and would have to take more from the right to compensate. This went on for another 5 minutes. My arse was clean, but the rolls still needed to look even. I couldn’t leave one more unused than the other, that just wasn’t right. Two whole rolls of toilet paper and 30 minutes later, I was finally satisfied.

In closing, I have to ask, “Why in the fuck does one need TWO rolls of toilet paper? Is it merely to confuse your bathroom guests or is it to torment people with OCD? Either way, one roll will suffice. Now I need to buy my dad some new toilet paper and my butt is really unhappy with all the unneeded wiping. Sometimes I feel like I am the only one in the world with any sense. Good grief.