Let’s pretend that I didn’t eat those two pieces of greasy pizza while wearing white pants today. Let’s pretend that this:
is actually what I look like and I’ve got legs that keep going and going and going. Let’s pretend that I am ALWAYS put together and I’m ALWAYS carrying the right bag and that I’m the type of girl that can make it through one day WITHOUT RUINING A PAIR OF PANTS. And for that matter, let’s also pretend that I’m the type of girl that can WEAR white pants and look good instead of looking like the underbelly of a whale.
And while we’re at it, let’s pretend that my car IS actually registered and I DIDN’T get that ticket yesterday.
So sorry to leave you all for a while. I realize that my last post was a “very special episode” much like when Mary Ingalls went blind or when Kimberly Drummond went bulimic. I’m happy to tell you that it all wrapped up in an hour (with commercials even!) and I’ve spent this time doing a lot of motivational talks.
So I apologize, FIERCELY, for the self-indulgence I took previously on this blog. Just like Mary Ingalls probably hides her braille “50 Shades of Gray” book on the bus to work; or Kimberly Drummond only smiles with her mouth close because she has no enamel on her teeth and can’t afford dental work because she spend all her money on ice cream cake and cheetos; I’m deciding to hide my gross gross flaws from you, the world.
At least until next week, my friends.
In the meantime, I give to you, a drawing:
OK… fuck it. the computer wins this time. i have no idea how to post a drawing here.
Today little Ethan Louise/Marie got a pacemaker. Which means I’m out a few pairs of shoes. Totally fucking worth it.
Let’s all eat a “special” brownie, crank up some Grateful Dead, and start shopping! Who’s with me????
P.S Don’t forget to vote below!
Sarah Kate’s – $64
What’s that you said? You missed me?
Well, I missed you too!
I believe the last time we got together, I mentioned something about an enema? Before you start asking me all about it, I should warn you that this topic is now on the list of “things I will never speak of again.” As far as I’m concerned, it never happened.
My big bad birthday is in a couple of days. You know the one, where you go from being cute and bubbly to hitting a brick wall going 125 mph. The one in which you go from early 30s to mid 30s to omg…late 30s. And, really, except for my 4 diligent readers, I’ve got very little to show for it.
But, THIS girl never gives up. So in an desperate attempt to cling to my youth I’ve decided to embark on a 30 day work out challenge. 30 days 30 workouts. I’ll be updating you all on my progress. Just because I can, and not because I think you actually want to know. I’m the one in charge here people. Don’t worry, I’ll still be dressing inappropriate for my age on this blog too. But now I won’t seem so…shallow. Because I’ll be all focused on my slammin’ body and not my clothes.
Also, I’m going to make a better effort to live the primal lifestyle. Which brings me to what I’m doing RIGHT NOW.
I’m cooking the beef tongue of all beef tongues.
Oh yeah, Saturday nights at my house are lively affairs.
Awww! Thanks Guys! I know!
Not only am I dropping it like it’s hot at work, but also here in the blog-o-sphere. I promise, I’ll be back with a vengeance next week, but this week I’ve got a colonoscopy consultation scheduled and am spending my days beforehand fretting about the two enema I need to give myself before going to this procedure.
Whiskey Wallet is convinced they’ll not find much, except maybe the remote control that went missing, while another so-called friend (i’m desperate) is convinced there’s graffiti up in there. I’m not really sure where “there” is, but i’m sure after googling “Anus” and “Bunghole” at work tomorrow I’ll have a better idea, and ultimately more time to blog after clicking on a few no-so-scientific, but still eye-opening websites…if you get my drift. wink wink.
First of all, should I throw my Indiana roots aside and call them a Wedge Sneaker? The probability of me sneaking in these are much higher than me playing tennis – which trust me, I can do, like if its a grass court and Roger Federline is there, in his glorious whites, ready to play…
Whoah. Let’s get back on track. The SHOES, BITS! Concentrate on the SHOES!
I just went through some wild style blogasphere ride, and came out the other side, pretty convinced i need to make these mine:
Rock & Candy Peaches Wedge
Okay, people, should i chug the kool-aide? or are these fug?