It Is Time

Annnnnd football season is officially underway.  Thank. You.  Jesus.  I've missed it more than I missed cheese the one time I gave that up for a year.  I'm sure most of you can agree with me, it's crazy to give up cheese and hooray for football season.  Unlike some of you guys though, I'm lucky enough to be just as obsessed with baseball, so I haven't been left too lonely.

Hi Jennas!

And I'm realllllly hoping my football teams follow in the ass kicking footsteps of those boys up in ATL.  Although I was raised in the Gainesville, I spent the first two years of my life in South Florida, which was just enough time to make me a Hurricane.

My only regret in life is not being born a dude so I could know the joy of scoring a touchdown rocking the orange and green.

A close second to actually scoring a TD is watching it happen.  And kickoff returns.  And punt returns. And field goals.  And sacks.  FOOTBALL.

You know what's awesome about grown up jobs?  No work on the weekends.  No more getting updates from the kitchen staff or manager on whether or not my boys are winning.  I get to watch those W's first hand now.  Well, except for those pesky little Thursday or Friday games since I work over night, and what do you know? Hurricane football kicks off on a stinkin' Friday this year.  Life is cruel sometimes.  Might be time to invest in some NCAAF scrubs.  My patients are rude enough to come in in FSU, UF, or even worse, Ohio State pajamas, it's only fair.   I have a nice little sweater I can rock when it gets too cold in the hospital, though.  Don't worry.

My other regret in life is falling in love with a non-Hurricane fan.  Even worse, falling in love with a Florida State fan.  Life keeps getting crueler and crueler.  What can you do? 

Here's hoping those boys in Miami back all of my shit talking up this year, because I do a ton of it, and they haven't really made life easy for me.  

Since our game is tonight, Saturday I'm left to enjoy myself with no pressure of winning or losing, and hopefully not finding myself in a Florida State shirt, again.

Is it me? Is it not?  Between the poor quality of the picture and the shitty Instagram filter purposely used, it's a little like a Big Foot siting.  Sure it kind of looks like me, but come on, would I really wear those horrible colors?  Shit.  See how stupid love makes you?!  Please don't tell my Dad.  He wouldn't be able to write me out of the will fast enough.

Like any true American, nothing starts my week off right like a UM win over the weekend, and nothing fucks up my week like suffering a loss.  You know, the important shit in life. Hopefully my Memorial Day weekend starts off right this year.  Labor Day?  I can never remember which one is in September and which one is in May.  Or March.  Whatever.  I can definitely remember the last time I watched a Miami National Championship win, and it's been a minute.  It's not necessary for any other Florida teams to chime in on the date, or for any Ohio State fans to remind me what happened the year after.  Thanks.  If you think this message was directed at you, it was, and you suck.

Whatev, we win overall, because we had The Rock.

What's It All About?

That's more like it.  Welcome to football season boys and girls.

What Do You Want From Me

Mr. Boyfriend's birthday is coming up in a few weeks, and naturally he is tons of absolutely no help in deciding what I should get him.  So far, he's only asked for chocolate.  Thanks, babe, but I get you eight pounds of Reese's every time I go to Publix.

The big problem with picking out a gift for him, is he is one of those of guys who doesn't ever want stuff, he needs things.  And by 'needs' I mean I accidentally and conveniently break something of his that he uses all the time right before his birthday/Christmas/our anniversary, and then I replace it and count it as a gift.  Viola.  Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he's fully aware how lucky he is to have me.

Anyway, since I have no intention of breaking his iPad and replacing that, I took to Lady Google to help me shop.  And she was more or less just as helpful as him.

Floating Cork Knife

This would come in handy, because I am notorious for not checking pockets before I wash clothes.  I don't have to worry about anything in my pockets, because I'm usually wearing a maxi dress or yoga pants, so no pockets to empty.  When we first started dating, I didn't want to seem like a nosey girlfriend, so I never went through his pockets before washing clothes, and I still don't, out of habit laziness.  His pocket knife has been through the rinse cycle about 18 times, if it was made of cork, it would float to the top and then it wouldn't make it to the dryer and come out 1000 degrees and burn the shit out of my fingers. Handy?  Maybe.  Stupid?  Definitely.

Ninja Umbrella

 Yeah, you heard me.  I don't think I've ever met a male who carries an umbrella.  David won't even share with me if I bring mine.  You don't have to do any of the work, dude, just walk closer to me, you know, like you're my boyfriend.  Is this kind of like tricking kids into eating their veggies?  Turn an umbrella into something you can commit a felony with and now your guy will become a responsible adult who carries one?  I kind of want it.

Beard Pack

This is sadly no longer of use to him.  I'm not sure if you're aware, but he was previously the owner of one of the best beards in town.

He actually made me switch shampoo and conditioner because I guess it wasn't good enough to use on the beard.  And you know what?  My hair is a million times healthier because of that switch.  Damnit.  I wonder why we never named that thing...

Shark Socks

 Yes.

And that, my friends, is the best my Internet surfing skills has led me to so far.  Seriously.  I like how most of the websites I came across are under the impression I live with a man-child.  You order Nerf guns online one time and Big Brother knows to suggest all things child-like to your girlfriend when she's Googling what to get you for your birthday.  Is that what the Patriot Act was all about?  No wonder you guys made such a big deal out of it.

Screw it, I'm breaking his iPad.  I'll get him a white one this time.  He could probably use some new socks.  He caught on to my strategy of throwing them away so I don't have to fold them, and he noticed he's down to like three pairs. I'm not folding the new ones either.  We've talked about this.  You know what?  He probably wants a puppy AND/or kitten.  Duh.

It's Not Even Your Birthday.

Umm, No Thanks

So, as you may or may not know, one of my very best friends is having a little baby girl in just three months.

Remember when you guys let me do bangs?

I absolutely LOVE babies.  And my favorite thing about them is that not a single one of them in the entire world belong to me.  None of them.  Zero.  I have two nieces and two nephews, and tons of honorary little ones, and I love them all to pieces, but not as much as a I love returning them to their rightful owners. 

That pretty lady and myself spent yesterday bopping around Orlando buying baby shower goodies, eating cupcakes, and 'oohing' and 'ahhing' over little baby shoes.  One of our last stops was at 'Buy Buy Baby'.  Funny side note about that place:  The boyfriend asked me if that was an abortion clinic.  Say it out loud.  Yep.  I'm not admitting if a laughed or not, but I did immediately secure my two bedroom condo in hell after he said that.  Anyway, it's a smaller, slightly more high end BabiesRUs.

Two seconds after we walked in, I uttered those dirty words that I never thought would come out of my mouth, "I want a baby!".

Jesus, if you heard that, I DIDN'T MEAN IT.  Babies are for grown-ups, and scientists aren't sure if or when I will ever be one of those.  It was the smell in there.  The entire store smelled like that sweet, delicious, clean baby smell.  THE WHOLE STORE.  It assaulted your sense of smell as soon as the doors opened.  Instead of just enjoying that nice aroma and going about my business, I decided to more or less accuse the cashier of some kind of baby conspiracy.  You know, like how Vegas pumps oxygen in the casinos, so when I'm passed out in the hotel lobby and security wakes me up, I actually want another vodka and sprite.  They pump in that baby smell so you leave the store wanting a stupid baby.  Don't worry, this kind of reasoning might definitely works in Vegas, but not in the baby store.  Not on me anyhow.  No way.  Sorry if I seemed a little aggressive, cashier lady, but you almost made me make a life altering decision when I was just trying to buy some baby blankets.

So, be careful out there, ladies.  If you're around my age, a lot of your friends are starting to have babies on purpose.  Actually, most of my friends' babies are accidents, and I plan on threatening to tell their kids that in exchange for cake and moscato.  But, either way, stay out of Buy Buy Baby, or breathe out of your mouth in there, because they do have some really cute stuff.  Fuck it, just shop online.  You can do that without pants.

No Babies Allowed.

VMA Recap

So, I could lie to you guys and say I stayed up and watched the VMAs, but let's be real.  I'm an adult, and got way too drunk on mimosas and Fireball and was in bed by 7:30.

If we're buds on Facebook or Twitter, you may have seen me suggest that you add Fireball to your mimosa.  Don't do it.  It's damn tasty, but this hangover it gave me is one for the books.  I apologize if you listened to me.  Nobody listens to me.  Anywho, I got around to watching them this morning, which was fine, because watching a show with commercials makes me want to die anyways.  I'm a devoted NSYNC fan and all, but I don't like anything enough to sit through those things.  Anyway, so here's my recap.

Taylor Swift.  I just can't.  I want to like you.  Actually, I lie.  I don't want to, but you seem nice, so I feel bad about not liking you.  Actually, I lied again.  It doesn't really bug me that I don't like you.  Some of those songs are damn catchy though.  That kind of pisses me off.  Also, turns out you're a little bitchy.

It actually does look like you're saying 'sorry for my arm' but no one's going to ever believe you.  And I like having reason to say something negative.

Miley Bird.  What in the actual fuck?  I'm going to keep 'We Can't Stop' as my ringtone, well because I love it.  Also, the new song rocks my world, too.  But cut it out.  We get it.  Hannah Montana is gone.  But the long haired version of you brought us 'Party in the U.S.A.' and that's my jam.  Don't bite the hand that feeds you.  According to my 'Billy Ray Cyrus:  Live in Concert' VHS, the apple didn't even grow on the same tree.

Lady Gaga, I'm not mad at you anymore.  That was a pretty solid opening, and your new song makes me dance.  And apparently, everybody has to pick between 'Applause' and Katy Perry's new song.  I choose you.  I don't really get why we have to pick .  You're both on my playlist, so whatever.

Pharrell.  Let me borrow that jacket.

Katy Perry, I like the new song, and I understand going with the theme, but isn't it time to do grown up performances?  Where did you get that sports bra, though?  It looks cute and functional.

Was it just me, or did Drake seem like he needed a hug all night?  Buck up, dude.  You got to see NSYNC.

That's right, Joey and Lance are big fat liars.  That's why neither one of you guys are my favorite.  I'm kidding.  Like I could pick a favorite.  Justin Timberake.  It more or less looked like this in my house.

Except, I'm alone, like a loser.  Also, I'm a bad mother, because Joey jumped up and got in my way and I shoved her off the couch.  I love you Joe, but no mother loves her child more than she loves NSYNC.  No truthful mother anyways.  They were 800 kinds of fantastic.  I miss them so hard.  Everyday.

All of Justin Timberlake was amazing.  He probably feels comfortable knowing that if anything ever happens to him and Jessica Biel what's her face, he can always marry Jimmy Fallon.  Holy man crush.  Speaking of that horrible four letter word, 'wife', why does he keep insisting on wearing that wedding ring?  It hurts my feelings.  She wasn't even there.  Remember Justin, I would have been there AND I know the choreography.

Bruno Mars was pretty fantastic, and I fast forwarded through Kanye West, because, no.  And that's it, because I'm old, and didn't even know who some of the people were.  And according to the fortune cookie with my Chinese food/ice cream breakfast combo, I have some shit to get into today.

I'm an outlaw.

Some People Just Wanna Watch the World Burn

Somewhere, walking free around this Earth, is a very horrible, disgusting, miserable person.  That person is the individual responsible for creating the NSYNC reunion rumor.  Did you really think this was funny?

You know what's dumber than pissing off a bunch of teenage girls?  Pissing off those same girls ten years later.  We're just as angry, but now we have real jobs, so we have the means to go with our motive to kick your ass.

This  actually happening has been on all of our Christmas lists every year for the past decade.  Well, maybe just mine and Joey Fatone's but whatever.  When I first heard the rumor I was skeptical, but then this information was being shared, retweeted, buzzfeeded, buzzfed?  Everybody was talking about it.  So, I started to believe.  I let myself get excited.  And then I remembered Eve picked that apple off the tree all those years ago, and women are STILL getting punished for it.  Forgive and forget, God.  Forgive and forget.

Every single boy band that has ever been inserted into my portable CD player has gotten back together in the past few years.  Some of them, we didn't even ask for  (I'm looking at you, Lachey brothers and your two weird friends).

Do we need to trade some people in to make this happen?  Because Lady Gaga and the Biebs have really been rubbing people the wrong way lately.  You can take everybody who has been 'twerking' lately, too.  Except for Miley.  I'd like to keep her. 

Is this maybe some big scheme put on by the Backstreet Boys to make themselves look better?  'Oh, hey, look at NSYNC over there not getting back together while you're listening to our new album.'  I already bought it, guys, no need to break my heart in the process.

Was this a game of telephone gone horribly wrong?

"This weather really stinks."
"This sweater really stinks."
"The sweater is in the sink."
"This better be in sync."
"Together is NSYNC."
"NSYNC is getting back together??!"

And that's how rumors get started, assholes.

Listen, I don't care who started this vicious rumor, but you better fix it, and fast, because it's the weekend, and all these angry girls are about to start drinking and throwing shit.

And if there is actually any truth to this, I'm still drinking and throwing shit.

Bye, Bye, Bye.

6 Things

I started this blog hoping to write two, maybe three times a week, but once I started, I realized I really like talking to you guys.  So, I've been bugging you via the Internet five to six times a week.  You just can't get rid of me.  Anywho, when I sat down to write today, I couldn't think of anything to write about.  Actually, I did have something to write, but I'm saving that for tomorrow because I'm hoping to get a happy ending out of it.  Luckily, sweet sweet Adriana from Dog Hair Is An Accessory tagged me in her post last night, and since she's awesome and funny and was nice enough to give me a super awesome shout out the other day, I shall do as I'm told.  And when you're done catching up on me, you should head over to her neck of the Internet.  You'll like it, I promise.  So, here are six things you may or may know about the Tina.

Hey there.

1.  Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
Definitely read.  And I do not discriminate.  I will read everything.  I don't care if it involves sparkly vampires or the Starks of Winterfell, I'm all over that shit.

2.  How did your blog come about?
I studied for a test to become registered for work for about 18 months.  That's a lot of not so fun reading, and it's all I did in my spare time.  Once I aced that sucker, I needed something to take up some of that study time, and after a few sweet, encouraging comments from some Facebook friends on a few of my status updates, I figured I would give it go.  Plus, I have a really bad habit of telling the same story over and over again, and now I just assume I've blogged about it, and since everybody I'll ever talk to obviously reads this,  no need for repetitive story time.  So really, I'm doing this for you guys.

3.  Tell us something we don't know about you.
I have a touch of OCD.  Nothing too crazy that interferes with my everyday life and would require a show on A&E, but if I walk by something and accidentally touch it, I have to make sure I touch it again so I've done so an even amount of times.  It's weird, and I'm unsure if it would keep me awake at night if I was unable to do it, because I've never let myself only touch something once.  Well, maybe when I'm drunk, because I just run into stuff and don't care.  But if I bump into the kitchen counter, you better believe I'm touching it again before I leave the room. 

4.  What's your biggest struggle in life?
My weight and eating habits.  Once a fat kid, always a fat kid, am I right?  No matter how in or out of shape I am, I will always think just a little too much about where that pizza is going, or what exactly will happen if I don't work out today.  In all of my 27 years of life though, that little voice in the back of my head is the quietest she has ever been, and she lets me enjoy those carbohydrates a lot more than she used to.

5.  Name one good deed you did that went unseen.
I actually do this pretty frequently, and depending on whether or not you're a neighbor of mine, you might not think it's that good of a deed, but whatever, it's getting me into Heaven.  You want to know why all the stray cats like to hang around Winter Park?  Because I feed them.  Yep.  Act surprised.  Anytime I come across a cat without a collar or who looks a little homely, I drive straight to the store, pick up some cat food, and make that little dude think Thanksgiving came early.  Don't worry, I do plenty of good deeds that involve people, but I think we all know what takes priority in Tina Land.

6.  What's the best piece of advice anyone has given you?
Big Girls Don't Cry. Le boyfriend has zero tolerance for crying.  There is a time and a place for it and 99% of the time girls shouldn't be doing it.  Does everybody need a good cry every now and then?  Sure.  But that's what PMS is for.  After one little 'suck it up' speech from him where he basically made me realize how absolutely amazing I have it, I rarely ever turn on the waterworks, unless somebody yells at me, but I'm getting much better at that.  Now, this was probably more for his benefit, but he was definitely right, I don't really have anything to cry about, and realizing that made me see everything much differently than I used to, in a good way.

And there you have it, six things you didn't know about me.  Maybe.  Actually, let's face it, I talk too much, so you probably did know.  

Christina
(Bet some of you guys didn't know that was my real first name, did ya?) 

Stupid Girl

So, one thing I can't really talk about too much on here is my job.  I can talk about what it is exactly I do, I just can't talk about specifics of my night at work to avoid angering the big bad wolf that is HIPAA.  I can also talk about what  a complete retard I can be sometimes. 

My fancy long name is Polysomnographic Technologist.  And yes, I do make people call me that, because I took a pretty damn hard test to earn that title.  It's supposed to be pretty difficult and has like a 60% pass rate, and I kicked its ass on the first try, so I know what I'm doing.  If you ever have the pleasure of having a sleep study done by me, you can rest assured (get it?) that you're in very capable hands.  Pinky promise.

Basically my job is to either, observe people sleeping, or set them up on a CPAP machine if they have sleep apnea.  It's a pretty neat-o job, that I like and I'm good at, which is a pretty rare find these days.  But we're not here to talk about me doing well at something, we're here to talk about when I make an ass out of myself, because that makes for a good story. 

Last night, when discussing what exactly would be going down with a parent of a patient, she asked me to hand her something that was to my left.  Since I'm a child, I made an 'L' with both hands, and headed in the direction of the hand that looked best.  Yeah, Tina, go ahead and slap that 'L' on your forehead and kill yourself.

Is this the only time I've been embarrassed in front of a patient?  I'm sorry, have we met?  Do you know what it feels like to have somebody compliment your perfume because it smells like food?  Twice?  I do.  Guess what, buddy?  I'm not wearing perfume, but I did just eat some spaghetti. 

Since I'm frequently discussing different types of health issues, medications, etc. with patients, I will usually confuse the word 'but' and 'butt'.

Patient: "Allergies are horrible. They mess with my ears, throat, nose, but...."
Me: "Your butt?!"
Patient: "....no, BUT not today."

Another patient after a twenty minute conversation with me, smiled, looked at me, and said 'Your boyfriend is a special kind of tolerant, isn't he?"  Ummm, if by 'tolerant' you mean 'lucky' then yes, he's a special kind of tolerant.  

Pediatric patients are always my favorite, they're sweet, funny, and 95% of the time they listen much better than adults.  One particularly adorable kiddo called me old, slow, dumb, and insulted my kicks all in one sentence.  Did it make me cry?  A little.  Will this boy make an excellent high school girl?  Absolutely.

And usually at least once a night I trip and fall over EKG wires, or almost strangle myself with EEG wires in front of a patient.  Yet, they always trust me.  Why?  Because I make sure to use big words while all of this is going down.  

I'd like to blame it on the weird night schedule, but I once called my mom and asked her what a 'Florida ounce' was and if shampoo bottles in Georgia said 'GA ounce'.  Let that sink in.

Moral of the story?  I might look stupid the whole time but trust me, I know what I'm doing.

Peace.

Free Willy

So, yesterday was day seven for Olive in the e-collar, so guess who was set free?

That's right, and because I'm a freakshow and I think that Joey was sitting around thinking about how unfair it is that she was still coned up, we decided to go ahead and set her free too.

Thank. God. While they have been running around like two chickens with their heads cut off (have you actually seen that before? It'll scar you for life.) I feel like I've been set free.  Yes, I'm still a slave to them, but a little less pathetic.  I've basically spent the past week asking 'how high?' when I tell them to jump.  Most of the past week I've had to sleep on the couch or the floor with them, or some awkward combination of both. Don't ask, just know my back is killing me.  They've been hand fed, even though I caught both of them eating just fine on their own.  I had to cut short my amazing vacation this weekend.  Basically, my life has centered around them even more than I thought possible.

Now, every pet mom knows they would do more for their babies than they would for some humans.  Admit it.  And if that's not true for you, give me your pets, you're doing it wrong.  But, I may or may not have reached a new low yesterday.  The e-collar was preventing Joey from being able to hold onto her bone so she could chew on it.  So like a pathetic good momma, I held it for her.

After about ten minutes, ok fine, an hour, of doing this, I realized this just might be why all the boyfriend's friends call Joe a brat.  I mean, they're wrong and I hate them, but I see it.

So, instead of teaching them to be self sufficient with the e-collars on, I just took them off, and everything is exactly the same. Oh well, what can you do? 

Also, Olive got a bath and she loved it. 

Over and out.

I Can Die Happy Now

Guys.  This weekend.  It was everything I wanted it to be and more.  Just think about how good two hours of Justin Timberlake and Jay-Z would be and then multiply that by a billion. And then square that.  And you're still not even close to how amazing it was. I should have known this weekend was going to be fantastic as soon as it started.

Funny side note about this, the boy told me when he got back to work, he kind of panicked, because he thought I wouldn't notice the note until I started driving, and would try to read it and crash into a house.  He really does know me.  Anywho, after I safely read and removed this from the mirror, I headed out to pick this little lady up.

Naturally, I got lost going to her house.  The directions involve like two turns, I'm sure she was excited to see where we would end up trying to get to Miami.  Word of advice, if you're going on a road trip, take this girl.  She made three hours feel like 30 minutes.  But only if she wants to go, please don't kidnap her, she has a child.

After we successfully made it down there without getting lost once, we relaxed for about 45-ish minutes and then left for Heaven The Sunlife Stadium, with only about an hour to wait before the show started.  I was super worried about it being insanely hot or rainy, but it was absolutely gorgeous out.  So waiting around wasn't near as painful as it could have been, plus we had $10 beers. 

And then waiting one hour turned into two and half hours.  Lame, guys.  I had to pee really bad starting at about 8:05 and refused to budge from my seat, until at about 8:45 whenI finally thought I was going to have an accident in front of 40,000 people.  Little did I know, I still had 45 minutes to spare.  That pretty girl on the left found out that Rhianna was the hold up.  Bish can't be on time apparently, and Hova enables that behavior by making everybody else wait.  Definitely unfollowing her on IG right about now. 

Another side note, my two hot dates had never met before, so naturally I worried about some awkwardness, but there was absolutely none.  The three us had an absolute blast together.

And then this happened: 




And this too:



And let's not forget about this:



Oh, hey there.



Hit me.



Thanks for coming by, Rick Ross.



You too, Timbaland.


Swoon.

And one more before my phone died.



And then they made me leave, and I had to use a port-a-potty.  So the end was kind of a nightmare.  Sorry, the videos are a little shaky, but JT asked me to 'do that ass shaking thing I do' and Lord, did I.  So, we were super exhausted and promptly passed out as soon as we got back.  Six hours of sleep and then I got to see the daddy-o!

Already rocking the concert tee.

And then it was time to head back to Jamlando, putting too much distance between me and one amazing weekend. So amazing that I have every intention of seeing those two guys when they come to O-town in December.  I was mostly there for JT.  I mean, don't get me wrong, I voted for 'Big  Pimpin'' on TRL back in the day, but I don't know that I would have driven 230 miles to see him if Justin wasn't involved.  And I regret feeling that way, because they were both absolutely unbelievable, but Jay-Z is hands down the best live act I have ever seen in my entire life, and I've seen acts ranging from Britney Spears to Nine Inch Nails.  Never, ever, turn down a chance to see him.  Trust me.

So, now my legs hurt worse from dancing than they did the one time I accidentally ran eight miles, and I have absolutely no voice.

My first world problems were immediately cured after I discovered Jess left a bag of Resse's in my car.  Basically I got a present after all this amazingness. I'm pretty much winning life right now.

Time to start saving up for their show in December.  All you guys should come.  Except for you, Rhianna.  Rude boy.

I Don't Think I'm Ready For This Jelly

Hey kittens! I made it through my second three day work week in a row.  I know.  It was touch and go there around Tuesday.  And my just reward isssss....

I can't.  I don't even.  I'm dead.  Will Justin ask me to be his senorita?  Will he play Senorita?  I'll be in Miami, will somebody at least call me 'senorita'?   Jay, I'd actually prefer you not to call me by any of your song titles, because, let's be honest, the odds of it not being demeaning are pretty slim.  Unless of course you want to call me 'Big Pimpin', because, well for obvious reasons. 

Not only am I excited for those two smooth operators to provide me some top notch entertainment for the night, I've convinced myself of two things:

Number 1:  Beyonce is definitely going to be there.  She just finished up her tour, she has songs recorded with both of them, and her new haircut is perfect for the Miami heat.  So, frankly it would just be lazy of her not to step on stage.  Thanks in advance, Sasha Fierce.

Number 2:  Obvious.  NSYNC reunion.  Am I ready for this?  Choreography wise?  Absolutely.  Emotionally?  Probably not.  I squeal a little bit every time they surprise me on my running playlist.  Actually getting to watch them perform?  Just go ahead and ask me to leave.

Hey, how's this for a road trip game?  I play nothing but NSYNC all the way to Miami, and the first person to not know the lyrics to a song gets pushed out of the car?  Too much?  Well, we're at least not being friends anymore and I'm leaving you in the Everglades.

How excited am I for this?  Well, I'm leaving the pets behind, and that's pretty huge for me.  I frequently debate trying to pass Joey off as a seeing eye dog so I can take her shopping with me.  (That would never work, because Joey doesn't really have the stoic nature of a service animal, so much as the awkwardness of a two hour old colt.)  Anything I leave the kiddos behind for is probably on my non existent bucket list.  This day will probably rank right up there with the day I get married, and that's really dependent on whether or not that marriage actually involves J-Timb.

Anywho, just remember, if you need to get in touch with me this weekend, call 1-900-HUSTLA, and tell Hova I'm in the first section, second row.

Jigga What.

The Best Things In Life Aren't Free

Well hello there, payday.  I've been waiting for you since the last time you came around, 15 days ago.  Not to be confused with the candy bar, although that is my favorite one.  And, thanks to the kind of payday that involves cash money, I can now buy some of those yummy things.  SCORE. 

Every time payday comes around I always find myself in this same situation:  Surviving off of last year's Halloween candy.  And this has nothing to do with the economy, because I'm paid very well for my job.  Whenever I sit down and add up how much I make a month and subtract all of my bills, it makes me a little sick to see the number of money leftover compared to the itty bitty amount in my savings account.  According to that number I should have every last one of those things I acquired in the most intense round of M.A.S.H. ever played.  Or 'S.M.A.S.H.' as we liked to call it sometimes, since small town education makes you think 'chateau' starts with an 's'.  If you can't spell it, odds are you'll never have the kind of job that allows you to afford it.

One of my favorite things to do is to put myself on a budget.  Why is it my favorite thing?  Because it's just hilarious in theory.  I allow myself a certain amount of money per week that is usually gone in a Sunday afternoon trip to Target faster than fried chicken at the last Spears' family reunion.

Problem is, I feel no shame.  Probably could have went without the $75 worth of pet toys.  Whatevs.  Definitely don't need 95% of the Essie line.  Fuck it.  Don't worry, all of my bills are always paid on time or early.  I pay them before money is spent on anything else.  When the bank account runs dry, it just means I sit at home and hang out with the pets instead of having mimosas at on outside bar somewhere.  And let's be honest, that's my preference anyway.  Also, I've gotten loads better with my credit cards than I was once upon  a time.  I really only use them for emergencies, but I am still paying them off from a very unsupervised shopping visit a few years back.  I have definitely learned my lesson when it comes to those horrible things.  Well, yes and no.  Yes sometimes, and no when I need some sushi.

I temporarily had a second job to balance out my spending with a little extra making, but that job was on a Sunday night, and Sunday is Mexican or Chinese food night in our house, so, you know, I had to make some tough choices, and we finally found that perfect Chinese food place that knew how to throw down on some crab rangoon.  See ya later, supplemental income. 

The whole point of this post is I figured if I told people about my need to budget myself and save more money, I would be forced to actually follow through.  Will it help? Who knows.  Odds are I'll  start lying to you guys and hiding my shopping bags, and distracting you all with cute pictures of the kids, because, frankly none of you can tell me what to do. All I know is I have one day to save up for this Justin Timberlake concert that I have every intention of turning into an auction, but I also need to buy new earrings to go with the dress I'm wearing, so you see my predicament.

A penny saved is a penny earned, and put them all together and they'll eventually buy you that lamp from Target that you already bought online, two years ago.

In Sickness and In Chubbiness

My new, wonderful, medication has a kind of unfortunate side effect:  weight gain.  I think actually the side effect is more of an increase in appetite, but the more ya eat...Anyway, so I work out on the reg, but I'm a big fat, fatty, fat fat, when it comes to food.  I try my hardest to eat fairly healthy, but I just love all things fried, potato, ice cream related.  The fat kid in me just won't die. 

Well, the fat kid in me needs to be stopped.  Being overweight is not fun.  Been there, ate that.  Do you any idea how hard it is to diet while living with a boyfriend?  It can't be done.  Guys just don't get it.  They never have and never will.  I've only been trying to diet since Sunday and the boy has already sabotaged Operation Keep Tina Looking Precious, Not Looking Like Precious.  Since this weekend, I've been force fed Tijuana Flats, french fries, an omelet, somewhere in the ballpark of eighteen biscuits, and somebody decided to be a real jerk this weekend and make peach cobler.  It wasn't me, because I was stuck to the couch like Mama June after Thanksgiving. 

Ok, and maybe the Tijuana Flats was 100% my idea, but I've been craving a chimichanga since April.  It had to happen.

Worst part about all of this?  I have to start watching what I eat right before all the holidays start.  No pumpkin flavored anything, no Halloween candy, no finding out just how may things can be made into a casserole, and no eggnog.  Ladies and gentlemen, the definition of a first world problem.

 Will I be successful in keeping any weight gain at bay?  Well, I did have four mini Reese's last night at work, before the mini Snickers, but after the broccoli, so your guess is as good as mine.  Mr. Boyfriend hasn't necessarily promised to grow old with me, but he has on more than one occasion expressed interest in getting fat with me, so at least I won't go this alone.

Good God Let's Eat.