Sugar Cookies, Rotten Trees and Cellulite

I read a friends blog today and it was so serious I had to
stop reading. IT’S FRIDAY! Come on friends. Lighten up, laugh a
little, introspective self-aware evaluation is only fun for a
maximum of three posts, and really, even then it’s so people can
read it and think to themselves, “Man, at least I am not as
depressed as that poor sack.” Anyway, all that to say, this blog is
for the sake of laughter. First, I am reading a book called
“Mennonite in a Little Black Dress.” It’s so funny. I laugh out
loud a lot. So much so that I take to read while the baby that I
nanny for is sleeping, only I can’t read it because I laugh to
loud. Second. Snow is coming. I am currently walking around the
house with my pet space heater. The only pet Boo will let me have.
Third. My car has
been making this squeaky squeely sound like waka waka weeeeek a
waka. Boo says it’s the fan belt. I say it’s annoying. I’ve already
taken it in once. Today, which I set aside to work on applications,
I am going to take it back. Punk ass fan belt. Stop whining about
the cold, that’s my job. I also need to take my tree down. I am
pretty sure it’s close to rotting. I keep thinking, “Out of sight,
out of mind.” You are probably asking, “If you don’t take it down,
how can it be out of sight?” Ummm, hello. Pretending it’s not there
is practically the same. Fourth. Today as I was eating left over
Taco Salad (I know those who know and love me – GASP) I was
thinking about my life long hatred for Tacos. And to this day I
will not eat tacos in a hard taco shell. There is no reason and I
hate them. There is a reason. Learned Food Aversion. I am always a
little hesitant to post about my family on here, because I usually
hear about it later, but I feel like this one is safe. My mother
cooked 7 meals. I have always claimed this. She also cooked them on
the same night of the week most of the time. I am not sure that
this was intentional, but my mom has a learned aversion to manual
labor so cooking was included. As I have learned with my personal
aversions, structure can help. So as I was trying to recall my
mother’s 7 meals this is what I came up with: salmon croquettes
pork chops (shake and bake) fajitas tacos chicken (shake and bake)
occassionally enchiladas but these were my dad’s recipe so she had
an aversion I do not remember ever eating vegetables For snacks she
loved to eat the following: Pork rinds fillet o fish and the
crispies from Long John Silver (And you guys wonder why mustard
chicken and scallops were so offensive to me when I moved in with
AM&UK) You are probably saying to yourself, ummmm Steph,
that’s only 5 meals. Yeah. I was puzzled as well. But guess what? I
realized that the other two days were left overs. Fajita left overs
on Monday (fajitas were sunday’s meal) and we would use the cut up
veggies/cheese/etc for the leftovers and then the tacos. But to
make sure that I didn’t get sick of tacos… She would mix it up
and make cornbread casserole with the leftover taco meat. If you
cannot understand why I don’t love tacos now then you are a sick
and heartless mench. Even as we prepared the tacos on Wednesday
night my skin felt balmy and I had deep and irrational fears that I
was becoming my mother. However thus far I have not started
drinking Pepsi in the morning, watching Nascar or playing duck hunt
with blinds drawn through the day. So, I am thinking, thus far I am
safe. However. After eating two repeat taco meals, I think that we
are done with tacos for a while. I need another 15 year break. I
also remembered another antidote from my life recently. I don’t
know if I’ve mentioned enough how, ahem, bigger I used to be. I am
not just talking big boned, I am talking bigger. Like Star Jones,
Rosie, Big Bertha kind of big. Anyway, I was still pretty. What? I
was. I was the only over 200 pounder I knew with a fantastic
hourglass figure. An unnamed Aunt once told me that I was pretty
enough to be a plus size model. I think this is actually at least
three rungs below being told you could be a part time model.
I digress. So
I was so pretty that there were four types of men found me
irresistible; Truck Drivers Anybody not born in the United States
or Canada Members of AARP and black men who liked to use the pick
up line, which unfortunately for them did not translate… “Say
baby you know I like thick women.” to which I would respond,
“Calling a girl fat is probably not a very good way to get a date.”
Truck drivers would often give me a little extra toot toot on the
highway, like I was going to MacGyver it and quick like write a
sign, “Meet me at exit 352, my cell number is 555.5555.” Dumb
asses. But the worst was the UPS guy. My friend Laura claimed for
years that the UPS guy had it bad for me and reminded me that he
was in fact, a truck driver. I poopooed her. I did not think he
qualified. Well three years in, he came in my office, asked me to
sign for a package and then offered, “you could add your number if
you want to.” Ummmm excuse me? “You deliver packages for three
years, I don’t know your name and you wear all brown, I think I’ll
keep my number thanks.” The worst was the time that Jasper died, my
beloved, albeit slightly retarded, anorexic lab. I was pretty
bummed. He died prematurely and unnecessarily (I’ll save the Jasper
stories for another time) and I was down. Finally, on about the
fourth day post-loss the aforementioned UPS guy comes in, asks for
just a straight signature and then says, comically, “What’s wrong,
you’ve been walking around like your dog died.” to which I replied,
“He did.” I am pretty sure that’s when UPS dude knew, I wasn’t
going to “let brown do it.” OK. I am going to eat some sugar cookie
dough. I am too lazy to roll the cookies out and actually make
them, so I think a ball of dough will do. I hope that Lance
Armstrong doesn’t have sugar cookie dough entered in MyPlate, if
it’s not listed and I don’t know how many calories it is I like to
pretend like the calories don’t count. Perhaps that’s the cause of
my cellulite collection, or maybe I am just a cellulite hoarder and
refuse to get rid of mine, as I am emotionally attached to all the
hot guys it used to bring me.


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