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Human, Woman, Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend & Aspiring Unicorn Breeder


Family Trees.

My cousin M***** asked me a little while back if I knew anything about our family tree. It was nice to be able to tell her yes. I had the great fortune of being able to speak with the Grandparents on both sides of my family before they passed away, and I garnered a great deal of information from them.

For some reason that I can not explain, understanding my family roots seems to be more important to me the older I become. And let me tell you, once you delve into your family history, the bigger the mystery becomes! The more layers you peel back, the more layers you discover. It's simply amazing to me. I really wish the people in my family(s) had kept journals. I'm beginning to think everyone in the world should, because too much goes to the grave with the people we love. I'm now left wondering if my Father's father was English or French, and if his Mother's family was actually Welsh, or the "off the boat" Irish that she claimed. And I know my Mother's family is Hispanic, but did they hale completely from Spain or is the legend of the rogue ancestor with the French wife, (or mistress/lover??), who fled to Puerto Rico actually true?

As much as I want to, I'm not going to stay buried in research in an attempt to find out my family past and all of the intriguing secrets... Because though family history is an amazing thing to look back on, marvel at, and even research from time to time, I would much rather live my life in the present with the people I still have the great blessing to enjoy.

©Flippa Bird
Photograph by: My Daddy
(Me & My Little Brother Before Cartoons on a Saturday circa 1980.)


Boys on the Internet.

I want to say upfront and for the record that I am not a man hater. I also consider myself to be a friendly person. And because I'm friendly, I used to accept all kind of friend requests or follow requests on my social network sites like FB and Twitter.... until things just got down right creepy. I had to delete 97% of the people I didn't personally know because I started noticing a disturbing trend: When men, (not all men, but most men), get on the internet in a social network setting, they act like... I don't even know how to describe what they act like.... Maybe a fitting description would be a "talking erection" (or maybe a "typing erection" would be correct, whatever). It's like the computer somehow emits a radioactive wave which passes through their bodies and dangerously ups their testosterone levels while simultaneously causing all of the synapses in their little brains to misfire. And it seems the combination of the two somehow disables every part of the body except the penis. While I understand that's what happens, there are a few things that I just can't fathom, such as....

A man will see a picture posted of a pretty woman or will post pictures of slutty looking women and then make the most ridiculous comments like, "That butter face has an awesome set of hooters" or "I'd turn all of their butt-holes into bloomin onions prolapse style." It's all fine and dandy that you guys have such confidence while sitting behind your computers but...  #1: The girl you think has butter face isn't ugly at all... and she wouldn't even glance at most of you gentlemen were she to pass you on the street. And I gotta be honest, everyone can see you guys profile pictures, and more often than not it's not an attractive sight. If she did look at any of you it'd probably be to point at you and laugh. So at least put up a fake profile picture of a really hot guy. That way, when you boys do make asinine comments of that nature, the rest of us can laugh along with y'all instead of just feeling sorry for you. And #2: Show me one man on this planet who has the cajones to go up and talk to a really hot chick and do so without sounding like a complete idiot. They are far and few between. So while you say you would turn that group of hot chicks butt-holes into blooming onions, the sad reality is that you'll never get the opportunity to do so because you're too much of a wuss to ever approach girls like them.... more than likely you'll just sit at home looking at the pretty gals pictures on the internet while greasing your sausage, instead of venturing out into the real world to do the real thing with real live girls. These are the things we women think when we see those stupid comments, boys. Think about that. But even worse than the crude picture commenters are....

The guys that friend you because you happen to be funny, witty... oh, and pretty. I'm not a super conceited person, (ok maybe I am a little), but I can't tell you how many friend requests I have gotten from random guys that are friends of friends or belong to the same groups I do. These men are complete strangers to me; I've never even conversed with some of them. But they send me these requests anyway. I guarantee you if I had an ugly face or looked 200 lbs overweight in my picture, they wouldn't be sending me those requests. I get at least 3 a week. And it's not just me... It happens to all of the attractive women I know. I hardly ever get random friend requests from chicks that I don't know. And the women who have friended me that way at least got to know me a little through social chit-chat before sending a request. So really guys, you're not fooling anyone. We all know what you're after. And they prove that when....

They start chatting us up in private. But here's how that generally goes: At first they're kind of funny and awkardly charming in their weirdness. They attempt to make little jokes and will ask you innocent questions about yourself in an attempt to seem genuinely interested in what you have to say. But then they start really trying to pry into your life... they start asking you questions that are just a little too personal. If you're married or have a boyfriend they'll try to get the dish on that. It's as if they go ahead and assume that your relationship isn't going well so they will have their "in" if they're correct in their assumption. It doesn't matter if your relationship is the best in the world either. They will ask you leading questions, trying to get you to say something negative about it. And if you really do have something difficult going on in your life, (work/kid/pet/friend/family issues, etc), they will play on that in an attempt to be the shoulder you lean on.... in the hopes that your head will slip off of their shoulder and land on their penis, mouth first of course. A lot of times they get really inappropriate too, and start spewing a bunch of sexual innuednos at you. Sometimes they're just flat out vulgar. And when you finally decide enough is enough and you tell them that they've crossed the line, they reply with things like: "You can cross my line anytime." Come on now, really??

I want to end this by saying, not all guys are like this. That has just been my, (and many ladies I know), personal experience. In fact I've met a couple of really cool dudes, (and chicks), via social networking. And though I've never met them in person, I honestly like them way better than a lot of people I know in the real world. They can be crude sometimes, but they seem to realize that there is a time and a place for that, so it's not a constant thing. They have that glorious penis-brain-off-switch... and I thank sweet baby Jesus for it everytime I log onto the internet. Maybe I can talk to them into doing webinars for all of the testosterone-overloaded men-folk on how to NOT be a douche-bag on the internet. A girl can dream anyway...

©Flippa Bird
Picture by: Me
(Found on a bathroom stall... Which is kinda like the internet.)


Holy Guacamole!

I really love cooking. It's one of my absolute favorite pastimes. I created and submitted this recipe to Better Homes & Gardens for their "Ultimate Guacamole" recipe contest not too long ago. It's not Weight Watchers worthy, but it sure is delicious! I made it recently and my family loved it, (except for my middle kid, but he absolutely hates avocados). I have a large crew to feed, so you can cut the recipe if needed and it shouldn't affect the taste or quality. The strawberry-guacamole can also be used alone as a dip or served on crackers with cream cheese as a unique & yummy appetizer, (the cream cheese really makes this spectacular). If you have the time and like to cook, please give it a try and let me know if you think it's contest worthy. Thank ya' kindly!

3,947 Calories (that's just a guesstimate...)
Serves 6

2 avocados
1 lemon
2 tbs finely diced shallots
1 1/2 c diced ripe strawberries
2 1/2 tbs finely minced fresh mint
1/2 tsp sea salt
8 oz pkg cream cheese
6 chicken breasts
salt and pepper to taste
6 french bread buns (or any type of crusty bun)

1. Remove skins and pits from avocados and dice. In a medium glass bowl mash one half of one avocado until creamy. Add remaining diced avocado, but do not mash.
2. Squeeze the juice of 1/2 - 1 (to taste) fresh lemon over the avocado mixture.
3. Add 2 tbs of finely diced shallots (approx 1/2 of a small shallot).
4. Add 1 1/2 c of diced ripe strawberries (approx 1/2 pint).
5. Add 2 1/2 tbs finely minced fresh mint.
6. Add 1 tsp sea salt.
7. Using a spoon, lightly mix together all of the ingredients. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour.
8. Grill chicken breasts until cooked through, seasoning with salt and pepper to taste.
9. Slice buns in half and toast to desired toastiness.
10. While the buns are toasting, slice (cold) cream cheese. Do not bring to room temp or it will not slice.
11. Plate each bun. Place a grilled chicken breast on each bottom bun, followed by a slice (approx 1 oz) of cream cheese. Spoon guacamole mixture over cream cheese and top with the remaining buns.
12. Eat and enjoy!

©Flippa Bird
Crappy Food Photo by: Me & My Cell Phone
(Strawberry-Guacamole Chicken Sandwich On a Towel)


Omg Wtf Lmnop.

I'm getting old. I can no longer work the remotes to the TVs, cable boxes, game consoles or DVD players. I also don't know what half of the words on the internet mean anymore. It seems everything has been condensed down to an abbreviation.... and more often than not I'm left feeling confused after I've read something. The remote situation is just too much for me to handle; but I have decided I can and will tackle these abbreviations. So after perusing the internet for a little while, this is what I've come up with...

LYLAS: Love You Like A Sister. I know this one. This is probably the very first sentence abbreviation ever used. It's old school, dating back to the 1980s. But we actually wrote it on paper using number 2 pencils and drew hearts all around it.
FTW: For The Win. I originally though this meant "fuck the world" until my brother set me straight. I liked it much better when I though it meant fuck the world.
BMG: Be My Guest. Hey, if you're offering, why not offer to spell out a whole sentence for me.
LMAO: Laughing My Ass Off. Llama? Lord of the Rings? I don't know. I googled this one years ago to determine it's meaning.
ROTFLMAO: Rolling On The Floor Laughing My Ass Off. This is so damn long anyway, why not just go ahead and type the freaking sentence?
LMBO: Laughing My Butt Off. This one used to throw me for a loop until I realized the people using it never ever cursed... not even in abbreviations apparantly.
WTH: What The Hell. This one can be used by the anti-cursing nazis as "what the heck" as well.
WTF: What The Fuck. There is no anti-cursing equivalent.
SMH: Shaking My Head. I really had no clue what this meant. I actually kinda believed it when I was told it meant "scratching my herpes." A lot of people have herpes nowdays, so it made sense.
OMG: Oh My God. Or if you're uber christian, Oh My Goodness.
HMU: Hit Me Up. My cousin had to explain this one to me. I liked her meaning better though. Hiding my panites just sounds more fun.
PPL: People. I use this one all the time because I'm lazy. Plus it reads like it sounds, so it makes sense to me.
IDK: I Don't Know. I thought it was I Declare, which make less sense.  It seems kind of southern. Oh well.
IKR: I Know Right. Another one I use way too often.
BTW: By The Way. I actually like this one. I don't know why. I think maybe because it sounds like a bad ass punk band.
IMHO: In My Humble Opinion. I always thought this was an I-Hop reference for some reason.
DMI: Don't Mention It. Ok, I won't since I don't know what your abbreviations mean anyway.
KYOOT: Cute. Come on now, really?? The actual word is shorter than the stupid abbreviation. Wtf.
INS: I'm Not Sure. I was so far off on this one, I thought it was a reference to the TV show NCIS.
ABP: Already Been Posted. Well, good. Now spell it out for me so I know that it's already been posted and you're not just some tard that got a hold of a keyboard.
TC: Take Care. Really, how much harder is it to type out "bye"
TTYL: Talk To You Later. See above.
SYTYCD: So You Think You Can Dance. I knew there was a reason I hate watching TV.
AIIC: As If I Care. You obviously cared enough to add your stupid little abbreviation to the conversation.
DEAR: Drop Everything And Read. And here I was just thinking it meant, well... dear.  
STFU: Shut The Fuck Up. Oh, that's another one I am kind of fond of.
FML: Fuck My Life. I would always see this following angry or sad posts. My cousin finally explained it to me. It made me sad when I found out the meaning.
SOAG: Son Of A Gun. Yet another anti-cursing abbreviation. It's an abbreviation folks, you're not actually cursing. It's ok if you just typed out a good old-fashioned "SOB."
 KISS: Keep It Simple Stupid. I always thought a kiss was a sweet gesture. I was sadly mistaken.
AFK: Away From Keyboard. My gaming friend always types that when she has to step away from her computer. But who the hell actually says that?? Why not just say...
BRB: Be Right Back. How cute is that and it makes more sense than the one above.  
WDITOT: Why Didn't I Think Of That. Because you're an idiot. Which is what this abbreviation looks like when you glance at it.

TAAHOOAOTBIDFLLFTATMBHAGNACBS: There Are A Host Of Other Abbreviations Out There But I Don't Feel Like Looking For Them At The Moment, But Have A Good Night And Come Back Soon.

©Flippa Bird
Photograph by: Meh
(Just A Bunch of Words on a Window)


Butt-Hurt on the Internet.

The other day I posted a blog blasting being a wife and mother. I was pissed-off and I needed to vent.... and boy did I. Later on that day I noticed I had a comment from an anonymous person. He pretty much called me out on the crap that I was spewing. Of course my natural inclination was to be butt-hurt and argue my side. But I've learned a pretty cool trick as of late. I actually look at what a person is saying to me through unbiased eyes. I reread and reread what they have said to me until I can read it without hurt or anger. It is then that I can honestly see what it is they are saying to me. And you know what?? He was absolutely right. He gave me things to take to heart. And I am grateful for it.

Too often I see people post things on the internet, whether it's the goings on in their lives, their opinions, their views, their secrets, their relationships, or their venting, and then they get butt-hurt when others don't agree with them and/or coddle them. I've seen it happen on blogs, Twitter, FaceBook, forums, etc. But here's the thing: If we don't want other peoples opinions, then we shouldn't put our business or thoughts out there for our audience to read. Because unless it is completely private, when an internet post is made it creates a dialogue... whether we like it or not. That's why it is refered to as social networking. It's pretty simple.

I will be completely honest. Sometimes I can't stand it when I get called out; sometimes I want to slap the ever loving shit out of the person who's done so, BUT... I am still very thankful that there are people in this world brave enough and honest enough to set me straight when a blog/post/tweet/comment I've made is ridiculous, unreasonable, or just plain stupid.

©Flippa Bird
Photograph by: Me
My BFF & Me!
(She calls me out all of the time and I love her for it.)


They Grow Up Too Fast.

My oldest child young man is turning 16 in less than a week and it has me reflecting on many things. For instance:

Wasn't he was just a baby?
Where the hell did the time go?
Have I done a good job raising him?
What happens when he moves out?
Will he go to college, get married, have kids?
Wait a minute... wasn't I just 16 myself?

I was young when I became a mother, barely 20 years old. I was single; I had no job and no possessions, save a car and a few clothes. I slept on anyones sofa who would have me. I partied pretty hard whenever I could, which was quite often. I was in no position whatsoever to have a baby.

I remember the day I found out for certain that I was pregnant with my son. I went to the pro-life clinic because I was flat broke and they offered free pregnancy tests. The test came back negative, but I knew it was wrong. The abortion clinic, (next door... no joke), also offered free tests, so I went there as well. But it came back negative too. I didn't keep taking the tests hoping one would come back positive. In fact I was hoping I wasn't knocked-up... but in my heart I already knew that I was. I felt different than I had before. I could feel his spirit living inside me from the moment he was conceived. So after two negative preggy-pee tests, I went to the hospital, explained my situation, and requested a blood test. They poked me, took my blood, and let me know they'd give me a call. The results weren't immediate... I had to wait.

The phone call from the hospital was came in around 4:00 that afternoon.
It was positive. I was pregnant.
There was never any doubt in my mind about what I would do. From the moment I had concrete confirmation that I was pregnant, I knew that I would keep my baby. I knew I would love him and raise him to the best of my ability. I would do whatever I had to do to ensure that my baby had a good life. It's like a little switch inside of me flipped, and in an instant I went into permanent mother mode.

I spent the next 9 months preparing to be the best mother I could be: I quit partying completely and moved in with my Mom. I ate healthfully. I exersized regularly. I got a job. I read baby books. I saved every cent of my money. I got on medicaid, (governement provided insurance), and other government assistance. I went to all of my doctor appointments. I read more baby books. I searched high & low and found a government assisted apartment in a nice area. I moved into my new apartment about two months before I gave birth. I registered for baby things. I had a baby shower. I set up the nursery. I read even more baby books. And then....

One morning, before the sun even rose, I got up to go to the bathroom... it was about 5 am. As I was walking back to my bed, it happened.... Right in front of my bedroom door. I felt a gush of water pour out of me. My water broke. I woke up my friend, who was staying with me, to let her know. I showered, got dressed, did my hair, put on my makeup, ate breakfast and went to the hospital around 8 am. I labored for around 12 hours before they decided an emergency c-section would be necessary. And then, just like that, *BOOM* there he was. My little boy.

Time for me has flown by since that wonderful, life-changing day. It's gone faster than I ever imagined it would or could, and it doesn't seem to be slowing either. I used to scoff when seasoned parents would tell me how the time passes by too quickly. What were they talking about?! I was urging time to hurry it up already! I was so excited and ready for him to crawl, walk, run, talk, read, draw, sing, hug, kiss, play... grow. I couldn't wait! I wanted time to speed up so I could watch him do all of those magical things for the first time. Now every one of those precious moments in his life are just memories... some of them caught on film, all of them caught forever in my heart.

I'm still excited to watch him begin the other chapters in his life: driving, girlfriends, prom, graduation, college, jobs, marriage, kids.... I think I'll just cherish that time a little more now.

©Flippa Bird
Photograph by: Douglas Looper
(Me @ 9 Months Pregnant With My Son)


I Lost It.

I was a skinny person growing up. I was skinny as a teenager and young adult. I was skinny after the birth of my first child. I was about average after the birth of my second child. But by the time I had given birth to my third child, I was fat. And I have stayed that way on and off ever since. The only time I've not been fat were the times that I've taken prescription diet pills. I would get super skinny again, keep it off for a little while, and then my love of food would creep back after the pills wore off and I'd be fatter than ever.

I decided I'd try to lose weight the healthy way and joined a boot-camp style gym last January. I worked out hard core religiously for 3 months, ate all organic vegetarian meals, drank enough water to drown myself... and actually gained weight and inches. Needless to say I gave up on that and quit going. About 2 months ago I started taking prescription diet pills again. I took them for about 4 days and then stopped them completely. My heart raced and they made me feel bonkers... and there was NO way I was heading into loonyville again!

I've been seeing on FaceBook that a couple of my cousins have had great success with Weight Watchers, so I thought I'd give that a try. I started about a week and a half ago. To be truthful, I wasn't expecting much from WW. In fact this was really my last go at trying to lose weight, and I didn't go into it having very much faith that it would work. Honestly I really didn't care if it did or didn't. I just wanted to be able to say to myself that I tried everything before resigning myself to a lifetime of fat clothes. However, I did make sure to stick to the plan my first week so I could say that I gave it a fair chance.

I was in a horrible mood as I stood in line to weigh in. My Husband had been pretty shitty to me the night before and I was still holding a grudge. I didn't really want to be there either, because I knew that even if I did happen to lose weight, (which I highly doubted), it would be so miniscule that it wouldn't make up for the entire last week of being hungry. Plus the line was long and I am an impatient person. I hate long lines.

After what felt like forever, it was finally my turn to weigh in. After fumbling around for my card pass and signing in, I stepped on the scale. I glanced down at what the weigh in lady wrote down in my book.... how much weight I had gained or lost. "Great," I mumbled to her, "I lost a whopping 1/2 lb" and I rolled my eyes, aggravated. "What? Oh no," she told me, "You lost 5.6 lbs" and she smiled kindly at me, handing me back my booklet. Her 4 just happened to look similar the 9 she had written from last week. Ah, so I had seen it wrong... Obviously my bad mood dissipated almost immediately.

The meeting was kind of a blur as I was concentrating on not crying. I was just so shocked that I'd lost so much weight! But I do remember many of the life-time member women, (the ones who lost and maintained their weight), saying that they still see themselves as fat. I don't have that problem. I never have. I've always seen and pictured myself as this really hot, sexy, beautiful woman. I look in the mirror and I see a gorgeous woman. I look down at my body and see sexy curves. It's only when I see pictures of myself or try on size 14 clothes that I realize, "Hey wait a minute, I'm fat!" So maybe that's been my problem all along... I've been seeing myself with conceited rose colored glasses I guess. I dunno. But I do know that I'm going to stick with this program, because it seems to be working. I lost it without diet pills and I'm so proud of myself. Yay me!

©Flippa Bird
This is how I see myself still... This was 2 yrs ago.  


I'm Frustrated.

I don't want my blog to be a bitch-fest, but I am so frustrated right now and it's only 9:28 am. I need to complain.

When you're young, having a family seems like a fairytale. That's how the movies, TV, books and even other people tell you it's going to be. No one tells you how hard it is to raise 3 kids. No one tells you how difficult it's going to be trying to raise a child who is bipolar. No one tells you that although marriage can be bliss sometimes, many other times it's just a big steaming pile of elephant crap. No one tells you that husbands, when tired or hungry, have the tendancy to act like children even more so than your children do. No one tells you that being a mother & wife is a precarious balancing act on a thin tightrope, and that if you slip you'll often times lose yourself. No one tells you how utterly draining it can be to be a wife & mother.... let alone one that stays at home. All. The. Time.

Sometimes I really, truly miss working. I wish I had a job to go to, a place to interact with other adults who are not related to me. Something mind-numbing and monotonous, so I wouldn't have to think. My current job is 24/7... it's never ending. It's so... I dunno... I guess I'm just not balancing it all very well at the moment. It will get better though, it always does. I just needed to vent.

©Flippa Bird
Photo of & by: Me
(It was Halloween. I'm not that nuts... Sheesh)


Whorish Halloween.

I went shopping for Halloween costumes this evening with my family. My Husband ran off with the boys to look at all things weird and silly, while my daughter and I scouted out a costume for her. She told me about a costume she had seen online, "Mushroom Alice," which sounded very sweet and innocent to me.

It wasn't. At all.

In fact, none of the costumes were sweet or innocent. From the young girls section all the way up to the adult woman section, there was nothing but slutty, whore-like costumes. I do understand the need to have some sexy costumes, but really.... is it necessary for a 10, 12 or 14 year old girl to have thigh high stockings and off the shoulder mini-dresses?

No it isn't!!

Let me stress here, I am not a conservative person. I have purple in my hair, tattoos and piercings. But there comes a point when common sense needs to trump everything else.... even freedom of whatever. And I think it is just common sense that little girls probably shouldn't dress like 25 year old hookers.

We left the Halloween store with my daughter in tears because she "didn't look like the girl in the picture" when she tried on a costume. Hey, I said I'm not conservative; I was willing to give one a chance.... It failed miserably. I've tried really hard to raise my daughter to be confident and secure in herself, but I have the media and the fashion houses of the world working against me. What the hell. Why can't little girls just be little girls??

©Flippa Bird
Picture by: Me
Pumpkin Carved by: My Smart Arse Son


Kid You Are BUSTED!

Normally when you can't find your teenage son and you smell a peculiar odor emitting from your garage, you pretty much know they're up to no good. And odds are they are probably in said garage getting stoned on seedy skunk weed and drinking cheep warm beer. Or at least that's what I used to do at that age.

Se here is the story... My teenage son is currently on restrictions for his horrible grades in school and is pretty much confined to his room for the rest of his life, (or until report cards come out again). So I, being the kindly mother that I am, called for him to come downstairs and do the dishes, because I figured he could use a break from his solitary confinement. Not to mention I wanted the dishes done. He didn't reply. So I made the long, arduous journey up the stairs and into the cesspool that is his room. But he wasn't there... I couldn't find him.

Now imagine this: I can't find my son, I now notice strange odors wafting in from under the door leading to the garage, and on top of this I hear an odd noise. Not music playing, not beer tabs popping, not talking, not bongs a'bubbling... it was a low, almost crackling sound. Hmmm.... weird metallic smell... low crackling sound... "I KNOW MY BABY IS NOT SMOKING THE CRACK ROCK!" <-- Is obviously my first thought since I over react about everything. I slowly tiptoe over to the garage so that he won't hear me coming and stop whatever it is he is doing. This is also done so I can bust him in a grand and glorious way. You know, scare the shit out of him. Because that's what all good mothers do, right?

I burst through the door in full dramatic fashion, as if I'm trying to escape a burning building. Before my eyes can even register what he is doing I screech, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!" He stops what he is doing immediately because he knows he is in big, big trouble. Then I actually realize what it is he is doing in there.

He lifts the mask from his face and puts the welding rod down, looking up at me with those big beautiful blue eyes, knowing his dad is going to be pissed off beyond belief when he finds out that he had been in his tools again. He was welding. My kid was in the garage getting into his dads crap, being creative and making something. He was fucking welding. WELDING. I had to hide my face behind the door so he wouldn't see me laugh. Most parents worry about their kids doing drugs, having sex, drinking and driving, murdering them in their sleep. Me? I have to worry about my kid tinkering with his dads tools. I think I have it pretty damn good.

I told him very seriously, or with as much seriousness as I could muster, to put everything back where he found it. I really hope he did... because I'm not telling his dad. Sometimes you just have to realize your blessings and let the little things slide. And that kid of mine sure is an awesome blessing.

©Flippa Bird
Photo by: Yours Truly
(My Son in a Gas Mask)


Back to Blogging!

I'm not new to this; I've blogged before. But I think I got bored/frustrated/irritated with it. My last blog revolved completely around my attempted weight loss and I think I ended up preaching more than anything else. (I can be incredibly preachy). I mean I did try to live by everything I said, but it didn't work.... Needless to say, I'm still fat. Fatter actually. So I don't want to do that this time. I'm too bossy to lead anyone. I just want to type about whatever I feel like typing about and perhaps be heard. Maybe I'll even find some comrades along the way.  

That being said, I joined Weight Watchers last night. I'd been thinking about it and discussing it with my Husband for a few months now. I didn't make a big deal about it to my friends or family. In fact I didn't even mention it to anyone until after my first meeting last night. I think I'm afraid of failure again. I don't even know if I'll tell anyone about this blog, (although I'm pretty blabby about myself, so I probably will).

Anyway, today was really hard. I've been hungry and irritable. And I'm sure I will be until I get into the groove of not eating 5 zillion calories a day <--- (that's just a guestimate). My poor Husband and Kids felt my wrath when 2 packs of  my Weight Watchers cookies went "missing." They felt it again when Moe's left the guacamole & shrooms off of my to-go salad ~ (yes I can have guacamole...1 point). I'm peeing like a baby too, with all the water I'm drinking to fill myself up. But I'm kinda proud of myself. I did stay within my 29 points for the day. In fact I had it down to an exact science. Knowing me, I'll figure out how to eat all day long and only consume 29 points. Yes, I love to eat that much. I sounded like I was having an orgasm tonight while eating dinner. Probably best not to eat in public for a while I suppose.

©Flippa Bird 2011
(Cell Phone Pics of Me)
Taken By: My Lovely Daughter