More Issues than a Box of Tissues

Justin, bless his heart, had to sleep on the couch the last couple of evenings because I have been a bit under the weather I guess you could say… more on that later. 

I have been taking some medication to get me through my little rough patch and it has totally been messing with my mind. A couple nights ago I was dreaming that I was wearing a coon skin hat and roll playing Mario in a Nintendo game. It was really odd-part of the time I was frantically trying to avoid those turtle enemy things in the game, alternatively when I wasn’t “physically” Mario I was shaking the bejezus out of a “controller” to get Mario to do what I needed him to. Needless to say when I awoke I was only slightly disturbed at my antics- given that this was on the shallow end of crazy things I do in my sleep. 

Last night I awoke to find myself eating saltines. I closed the box, put it on Justin’s vacant side of the bed, then rolled over and fell back to sleep. The next time I awoke I was chewing on a Kleenex while cradling the box of saltines. Not to worry; no slatines were smashed in the process of whatever charade it was that I was partaking in... Also I am unsure how many tissues I ate but I am pretty sure those things don't have any calories so I should be good to go there.

In all seriousness; I am happy to report that I am finally starting to feel a bit better. 

"Hey Gurl, you wanna pet my coon skin?"

Kill Me If You Can James Patterson

For the past few weeks my life has turned into a sort of James Patterson novel; literally. Justin has developed this obsession with reading that man’s books. If I opened a drawer-there was the cover of one of James Patterson’s books staring up at me as though I had found it doing something wrong. Our coffee table was never without a half a dozen of his novels. The backseat of Justin’s car; littered with James Patterson, James Patterson JAMES PATTERSON.  Wikipedia alleges that there have been more than 300 million of his novels sold; I allege that Justin has purchased them all. 

Finally Justin brought home a book shelf and it is slowly filling up.  At least I can tolerate all the books being in one location rather than spread about the apartment’s nooks and crannies. I am planning on sneaking some of my books on there; like Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings series. We shall see if I can get away with it.

Last week when we had our date night you may recall that Ibargained down from going to a movie to renting one from Hastings and going fora walk. Well after we had picked out our movies this happened….

Like a kid in a candy store. In all seriousness I am happy that he chooses to read to keep himself entertained; rather than getting a hooker, smoking crack or any of the like.

Not a Real Post (more of an "I'm feeling guilty" and nude photo of Justin kind of post

I am a terrible girlfriend. Tonight I was manhandling Justin when something tragic happened; he slipped and fell into the bathtub while attempting to avoid the wrath of me. He went down like a 99 year old woman who was about to break her hip. Fortunately he just has a humongous bruise forming with some big scratches (from when I swiped him with my wolverine claws on the way down I mean.... When his side hit the water faucets. 

Moral of the story: if I am trying to spank you just focus on a point on the wall and let it happen, because sometimes my animal instincts get the best of me. 

Because I'm a Disney Princess Too

Justin and I were supposed to go on a date night tonight to watch "The Grand Budapest Hotel." Unfortunately I'm feeling slightly under the weather so I bargained him down to a walk and trip to Hastings to rent DVDs. 

We live steps away from the Boise Greenbelt. For those of you who don't know that is this super long path that is quite scenic at times. We saw these two ducks trying to hump in midair then the male took a nose dive. 

He stood there quacking so I attempted to run after him. He ran down this little dirt path and I excidely determined that he must be leading me to my very own cottage; you know fit for a Disney Princess. I was laughing and trying my damnedest to keep up with the bastard as he cast strange looks at me over his shoulder and waddled hurriedly towards my cottage where there would of course be like twenty more ducks who could all talk in human language rather than in loud quacks as I am chasing them. 

Unfortunately my journey was truncated as he hopped in a particularly rapid-y part of the river. I think he was trying to tell me that my cottage was on the little island only a few yards downstream but I wasn't wearing a swim suit so I told the duck I couldn't go to my cottage. He totally understood. 

Keep on Truckin'

So my truck broke down again. It is being like a bitchy teenager and only starting when it wants to. I visited with an old friend while he worked his magic over the weekend. It was determined that it was my truck's relay switch which makes sense since it is all super self-centered and would never pass the baton in a relay race. Consequentially I have this to start the vehicle now.

feeel the power

Pretty high tech if you ask me. Also turns out my truck really likes Diet Coke because we poured some on the battery to clean off the battery acid. I guess I can appreciate that. Even though I only have a Diet Coke about once every three to six months it is the only soda that I drink.

Hopefully this weekend we can actually get a new relay and have it installed. But of course there are some other things that need to be dealt with so we shall see.

Up in Arms

I have acquired this really strange new way of waking up in the morning. I am not sure what happens but at some point I shift onto my right arm in a way that causes it to go to sleep. Once it gets to a degree I wake up in a frenzy and immediately start shaking the living daylights out of it.

The first day this happened I woke up and had no feeling whatsoever when I touched my arm because it was so asleep. Also I was unable to move my arm on its own. Naturally I freaked the hell out and furiously began shaking my asleep right arm by holding it in my awake left arm and moving it every which way. My arm began to have that weird effect, you know where it looks like rubber. This was cause for more concern so I quickly sprung out of bed and started body slamming into the wall. Of course this was the most rational thing to do, because if my arm had in fact been trying to kill me, I needed to kill it first. Fortunately within about a minute and a half the tingling subsided and I regained control of my right arm again.

Me and my arm (except I wasn't wearing glasses) Photo Credit: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

The past two days the same thing has happened with the exception of body slamming because that hurt like a bitch. I am not sure what is going on, all I can venture to guess is that perhaps my internal alarm clock has gone haywire. Perhaps if this business persists I can get a robot arm. Then I can be like go go gadget arm and pick up some cake from Whole Foods without ever even moving my hefty garbage bagg-ed ass. Win-win. 

Hefty Lady Humps

This strange phenomenon seems to occur during the fall/winter. Each year when spring rolls around, and the temperature gets warm enough to throw on a pair of shorts I open my dresser drawer to find disappointment staring me in the face.

"Boy.. These look pretty small," I think as I shove one ham-bone of a leg into the size zero shorts I could pull off without unbuttoning last year.

This year I would like to blame that thirty day of squats business for my trouble. I know I eat a lot of cake but that couldn't possibly be the reason for my ten pound-ish weight gain. All those Red Bull's I drink? No, not a chance... Did somebody say cookies? When I did the squat challenge I noticed that my legs were much stronger, however they literally doubled in size! Okay not literally but seriously I could see the difference in their girth, talk about thunder thighs. I know that muscle weighs more than fat and on and on but I feel like I need to fashion a 20 gallon hefty garbage bag into some Hammer pants in order to leave the house, since I have practically nothing to fit my bunz of whale.

I called one of my girl friend's to bitch about this circumstance, and she assured me that I am vastly misinformed. Obviously what happened was that my shorts shrunk while they were hibernating for winter. You see this makes sense; since they were not exposed to sunlight or nutrition of any kind. I am sure in no time they will be able to take on the daunting task of squeezing my ass into them.

Until then, if you hear strange noises coming from the trash bag isle in the supermarket; you'll know why...