Lent

As a Catholic, I am currently involved in the season of Lent. This is the time of year when we are supposed to participate in prayer, fasting, and self-denial to commemorate the 40 days of temptation that Jesus spent in the desert before his death and resurrection. So, what that boils down to is basically not eating any meat on fridays and for me, giving up chocolate.

I said, GIVING UP CHOCOLATE. Ok, now do you get it? For me, that is HUGE! (Normally I give up something easy like sex, but as we all know, that is seriously out of the question this year.)

This morning, I was giving my niece a ride to work and she handed me a delicious looking brownie smothered with frosting. I politely declined (well, I think I said, "You thoughtless, God-less heathen, don't you know I gave up chocolate for Lent?" or something like that.) She looked at me a bit frightened and said, "Aren't you worried that you are going to be an even bigger Bitch than normal????? I mean, we NEED chocolate."

She totally gets me.

I figured if anything was going to help fat girl shed a few pounds, it would be by eliminating chocolate from the diet. And, boy, was I right. Now, all I have left to eat in the house is brown rice and strawberry slim-fast. I should be a size 2 by next wednesday.

However, I may be doing the whole fasting thing a bit wrong. I really wanted to start the Holy Season off right this year, so I tried to be very symbolic with my food choices on Ash Wednesday. I drank only red wine ("blood of Christ") and ate only bread ("body of Christ.")

My Mom had to pop my bubble by telling me that 3 loaves of italian bread smeared with olive oil and butter and 2 bottles of wine was really overdoing the whole sacred ritual thing. She proceeded to tell me "now Jenny darling, you have been drinking too much wine lately. I understand that a glass of red wine does have some healthy benefits, but, sweet pea, I have seen your recycle bin, and I am quite certain you are overdoing it a bit. Just because you refer to it as the "blood of Christ" really doesn't make it holy and it certianly isn't okay to drink by the gallon."

You know, I always like to think if you are going to do something, you should really give it your all.

Anyway, I wanted you all to be aware that for the next 40 days I may be a bit edgy. Anyone coming near me with brownies, hershey kisses, or the faint smell of cadbury mini eggs should fear for their lives. According to my estimates, I should pull through this Holy Season a good 40 pounds lighter. Pray for me . . . no really, pray for me . . .

Fountain of Youth

I woke up this morning with another wrinkle. It runs from the corner of my eye down my cheek. It is a long wrinkle and runs perpendicular to my other wrinkles. Seriously, this is getting friggen ridiculous. I understand that I am getting older and all, but I have been moisturizing religiously since I was 15. I have tried every cream, lotion and potion know to man, but nothing seems to be slowing these suckers down a bit.

I have to confess that I purchased a very expense bottle of "miracle cream" recently. This was the most I have ever spent on lotion by far, and I was quite suprised at how small the bottle was. I think there must be liquid gold inside. I thought for sure there would be an armed guard to escort me out of the store, but the clerk didn't seem to think it was a big deal. Apparantly they sell a lot of this stuff. Anyway, this was guaranteed to give you younger looking skin or you would get your money back. So, it has to work? Right?

Well, I guess you could say I have younger looking skin. I have broken out like a pubescent teenager. I haven't had this many zits since 9th grade. Perhaps this is what they were refering to as the guarantee to make you look younger. The acne is hiding my wrinkles, I guess.

I am not at the point yet where I would pay for botox or anything, I'm still to cheap for that. But if someone was handing out free samples, you bet your booty I would be the first one in line. Anyone know any plastic surgeons I could be good buddies with?

Jennifer is now friends with Patrick Dempsey

I have a slight addiction to Facebook. If you aren't on Facebook just sign up already. I'll totally be your friend. And if you don't know what facebook is, um, where have you been???? No, seriously, it's like an online yearbook of sorts. You can reconnect with anyone and everyone you have ever known. But, you have to approve them first before you can be "friends." So, there is very little risk of getting cyber stalked. And, you can deny friendship at any time. It's very cool. And, if I can do it, anyone can.

I signed up to Facebook last fall to look up a potential job candidate at the store. I had no clue that you had to be approved to look at their info. So much for try to do some anonymous snooping. I filled in the least amount of info as possible to get the account up and running, and literally within 24 hours I had 41 friend requests. Yeah! I have friends! I'm still totally popular.

Well, about a month ago, I was feeling all nostalgic (Ok so I was pretending that I was 19 again) and I went back on Facebook to look up old friends. I even downloaded some pictures. (It may have taken me three days and my profile picture MAY be a picture of me from last summer that deceptively makes me look thin and wrinkle free, but hey, it IS me, and my ass may be the size of the titanic but my face is still thin. Therefore, only head shots please.)

So, I have been busy looking for friends all over the country. And, once they approve your friend request, you can look at all their info and pictures. So you can totally snoop without them even knowing. It's so cool. I was dying to know who had gotten fat and who was going bald. But, as far as I can tell, I am the only fat and bald person I have come across. Bummer.

Facebook will also make suggestions of "people you may know." It's usually the younger brother of a high school friend or someone who went to the same college or something. But, a couple of weeks ago Patrick Dempsey popped up my "people you may know." What?? Patrick Dempsey? Could it really be? Upon closer inspection it certainly was a picture of McDreamy in some sort of racing suit. Weird, eh?

The funny thing is I actually met Patrick Dempsey about 10 or 15 years ago. (Sorry, I can't remember how old I am anymore so dates are really irrelevant to me.) It was at a restaurant in LA called Joan's on third which was right down the street from where I worked. We were both in line at the counter, and when I looked at him, I had that feeling of "don't I know you?" So, I kept discreetly looking at him trying to figure it out. However, he is an eye contact maker, so I was busted immediately. He attempted to make some small talk because the line was like 10 miles long. But, when he talks to you, he looks you right in the eyes, and it's kind of intimate in a weird way. I really don't know how to explain it. But, you literally can't take your eyes away.

As we continued to chit chat, I realized that he was the lawnmower guy from Can't Buy Me Love. I totally used to have a crush on him! He looked pretty much the same, but his hair wasn't as curly. Wow, now we are chatting in the deli line. How cool is that. He came in with a much older woman who was saving them a table outside. I was trying to be all cool and conversational now because I remembered who he was. So, I made the observation that it was so nice of him to take his mom out to lunch. He smiled and informed me that the woman was his wife. (He wasn't wearing a ring because I had already checked that.) "You're so funny" I say. I'm clearly being flirty Gerty at this point. Maybe he'll offer to buy my lunch or something. "No, that really is my wife" he says while staring right in my eyes. "Um, ok, sorry" I say as I start chewing on my shoe so I can put my foot in my mouth. She had to be at least 50. How should I know?

Needless to say, I bought my own lunch that day. But, maybe he remembers me from that day. Perhaps I am the girl from Joan's that he has never forgotten. We had 2 Facebook friends in common, so maybe we are meant to reconnect. Naturally I clicked on the "people you may know link" and sent him a friend request. He doesn't have to accept it right?

Within 12 hours I had a message that "Patrick Dempsey has confirmed your friend request." So, now we are pals. I'm certain he must be checking out all my info, regretting that he let me get away that day. But, I have already made it very clear to him that I am happily married now. You snooze, you lose McDreamy. Sorry 'bout that.

But, I have one person that has denied my friend request, and seriously, my ego is bruised. He was my first real boyfriend in high school, but, we like broke up in 11th grade. Um, what's up with THAT? He is friends with everyone else from High School. He is happily married with like a gazillion kids. I'm happily married with a gazillion kids. I mean, it's Facebook for crying out loud what the heck does he think I am looking to do?? I am just trying to rack up as many friends as I can. I thought we were friends. DENIED. Ouch. But, I'm over it already. After all, I have Patrick Dempsey.

So, in the spirit of Elle Woods, I am championing you all to be my friend on Facebook. It's super fun!

Going to hell

I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell.

Last week, the kids were off from school for a winter break. Unfortunately, it was too freakin' cold to send them outside to play, so they stayed inside climbing the walls, and literally driving me INSANE. So, to say that I was looking foward to Monday is a gross understatement.

I literally found myself a bit giddy on Sunday night, and I started counting down the hours 'till they were back at school.

So, at 12:03 am on Monday morning when I found myself holding Ace's head over the bathroom sink while he expelled his mac'n'cheese, well, I was just a little bit depressed. Of course one of the kids would have to be sick on the first day back. Of course. Heaven forbid I should actually feel sorry for my poor child that is wretching 3 weeks worth of food out of his system. Instead, as I held a cool cloth on his forehead, I couldn't help but feel just a tinsy bit sorry for myself. Yes, I know, I'm very bad.

I called on Paco for reinforcement. Since Ace was still half asleep, I couldn't quite get him over to the toilet and he managed to plug the sink. And, for those of you without kids, well, mac'n'cheese looks exactly the same on the way down as it does on the way out. So, Paco had the lovely task of scooping out noodles from the bathroom drain while I got the ginger ale.

I prepared a puke bucket, got a glass of ginger ale, and got Ace all snug and settled back in his bed. I finally crawled back into bed at 1 expecting to have a very long night.

Miraculously, I didn't hear another peep from Ace for the rest of the night. He slept all night long, and woke up Monday morning in a great mood.

Ace tends to be a bit dramatic, so I was fully expecting the sad face and the tales of woe. I naturally assumed that he would want to stay home.

However, he started getting around like he normally does, and got himself dressed and brushed his teeth. When he went in to make his bed, he saw the puke bucket on his nightstand and asked me if he had been throwing up.

"Um, what honey? We're you sick? Do you remember being sick?" I ask in my sweet Mommy voice.

"No. But, why is the puke bucket by my bed. I think I dreamed that I was puking." He replies.

"Oh, well, maybe it's there from the last time you were sick or something. Dreaming of puking sounds more like a nightmare don't you think?" I say.

(Technically, I did not lie. It was his idea really, and I just, well, went along with it. Maybe he DID dream about throwing up. And, the puke bucket COULD have been there for a while, even though I had just put it there the night before. It COULD have been there longer. Really, it could have.)

He ate a full breakfast, wasn't running a temperature, and seemed to be fine, so off to school we went.

I dropped them off at school at 7:49, and went off on my merry way.

I fully expected a call from the nurse's office. But, to my relief, no call ever came.

When I picked him up at 2, he was fine and full of energy.

He had did his home work, had dinner, took a shower, and was in bed by 7:30.

Woooo-hoooo! Crisis averted. God will fogive me this one, right? I'm not that bad of a person, right? I mean, technically, I really didn't do anything wrong. He seemed ok, so it could've been a one time thing.

Wrong.

At 10:30 Ace came out of his room and started vomiting again. Fortunately for Paco, this time he made it to the toilet. But, Seriously????? AGAIN???!!!!!

We got him settled back into his bed with the puke bucket and ginger ale yet again. And, miraculously, he slept through the night for the second time.

I went into his room at 5:15 to check on him, and since he was sleeping soundly, I decided to clean up his room a bit and I removed the ginger ale can and the puke bucket. We wouldn't want him to wake up to a messy room, now would we?

He woke up at 6:05 got himself dressed, brushed his teeth, made his bed, and even made his own breakfast. I was walking on pins and needles waiting for him to mention last night's episode.

Nothing. He didn't say a word. And, since, he didn't mention anything, I didn't feel it really necessary for me to bring anything up either.

I am quite certain this gives me a one-way ticket on Satan's express. However, as I sit here at work, sipping hot coffee, listening to soothing music and checking out all the latest the internet has to offer, I feel that maybe, just maybe, it could be worth it.

Sven Again

Boy is Sven pissed at me. I signed on today, and apparently it has been 9 days since my last Wii Workout, and, um, I kinda gained 3 pounds. (This may or may not be directly related to the 2 bags of Cadbury mini eggs I polished off in the last 3 days, but, in my defense, they only come out at Easter time and I am giving up chocolate for Lent, so my window in which I can savor these chocolate wonders is very small, therefore, I have been inhaling them by the truckload.)

Anywhoo . . .

I log onto the Wii Fit, and the nice little machine informs me that I have taken a step back and that the only way to see results is to stay focused yada yada yada. It made my Wii person even fatter, and I think she split her pants too.

Then Sven comes on. (His pony tail still freaks me out) Sven starts to lecture me about the importance of fitness, and how I really need to stay commited, and he's there for me, blah blah blah. But, I swear when I turned my back I heard him call me a fat cow. Ouch. Some guys just can't take rejection very well.

I put in a good 20 minutes of arm shaking, and now Sven is all back in love with me telling me how great I did, and that I'm back on track.

I'm a little concerned about the 3 pounds I gained. After all, I only have another week left of Cadbury mini-eggs. I've been thinking and I figure if I cut my hair, trim my nails, shave EVERYTHING, take off all my jewelry have a healthy BM, empty my bladder and strip down to my skivvies that I should be back to my fighting weight. I'll let you know how that goes.

Itchy Pittsy

I have been having a problem lately with itchy armpits. I'm not sure if it's the weather, my water, my deodorant, or all of the above. So, I have been dabbling with various experiments to see what might be the cause.

I've tried not shaving, and that lasted 10 minutes. Can't do pitt hair. Sorry

I've tried not using deodorant. Sven even commented that I was a little gamey during my last workout. So, that's no good.

I've tried using moisturizer after I get out of the shower. I think it actually made me more itchy.

Today I tried using a different deodorant. I used Paco's deodorant, as that was the only other kind in the house. I think it's adidas fresh action or something like that. Very manly.

Every now and then I'll be doing something and I get a subtle whiff and I get that feeling that I'm standing too close to a very attractive man. The smell is masculine and spicy, and, um, I'm kind of turning myself on.

Weird . . .

Mourning a loss

My blogging will be sporatic for a while. I am mourning the loss of my beloved lap top. I will inform you all about the services when I know more.

Thanks for your patience and understanding.