If you're bored - click here. I do.

Pages

Showing posts with label Honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Honesty. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Family Vacation #2, Part 1

It's happened again. (cue Jaws theme....da dum, da dum.)


My family nightmare vacation was a complete train wreck. Oh sure, I had a few good times, a smattering of fun amongst the chaos. But the majority of the whole debacle was a flippin disastrous kerbobble of  "holy crap get me out of here!" ness.

Let me start out by saying that the very beginning of the thing was plagued by terror and and angst. Yes, I said plagued. We had planned to leave on Friday, July 19th. We were going to fit 7 people into my sister's Minivan and head to new jersey to pick up my son - who was at Ocean Grove with his father's side of the family. Then we were to head down to South Carolina for a family reunion. Sounds easy enough, right?

Well, you would be completely, totally and utterly wrong. You see, the Minivan is my sister's van, and she had offered to take me, my mother, my son and my brother along with herself and her 3 tornadoes children, because her husband wasn't going to go, because he had college classes he couldn't get out of. (You follow all that?)

So instead of renting a car with just the first 4 of us, we decide to depend on the stability of the plan to use the minivan. Big mistake. My sister's semi-psycho husband finds out about the plan and gets all ticked off because it turns out he can get those darned college teachers to give him the time off for something as amazing and special as a family reunion with his precious wife and darling children. Huh. Right. And before you hummina wha? me - this man is pretty much an asshat to his wife most of the time. Doing things which I will not mention here, because a lot of it is unmentionable. The few things I can mention are these: He spent that entire week yelling, threatening to slash the tires in the van, taking the license plates and trying to bend them up - all so we can't go, because my sister is going without him.

Anyway, because of Nut Job, we come up with this cuckoo plan to sneak away a day earlier while he is at school. And then, to be really clever - we decide to double cross our double cross by leaving a whole 3 days earlier - just in case. We thought we were so awesome. I ask my exhausted and lethargic sister when Nut Job is in class this week, and she says Wednesday. So we plan to leave Wednesday. Then she tells me she was wrong and it's Tuesday. So we plan to leave Tuesday. My mother scrambles to find people to cover her shifts at Pizza Hut, I run around packing like a Tasmanian devil in heat, and my brother does what he does best and says "eh, whatever" to the whole thing. Then the sister calls back and says she's wrong, Nut Job has college on Wednesday. After a long moment - during which I seriously considered throwing my sister into oncoming traffic - we decide to leave on Tuesday anyway. Because what the hell, vacation is fun and you should make it a really long one when you're packed into a minivan like sardines with lots of small children and 2 semi invalids and one crazy mess of a woman. And my mother.

This is what it took to pack up that van. Every few days.

So, Monday, while Nut Job is at college, we super fast pack all the stuff we can and bring it to my house. The theory was that we would have all the stuff here, so that we could quickly pack the car on Tuesday morning. My sister says she'll show at about 10 am. So I spend the entire night worrying about if we are going to be able to leave or not. The next day, I text my sister at about 10:30, "???". She replies that she needs more time and she doesn't know how to get away from Nut Job. I tell her to figure it out, since she has a set of her own brains, because at this point I don't know what to say and if NJ will even believe any of it. She finally shows up at 2 pm, and says she told him that she was going to try and do a practice "pack up" of the van, since he spent all week whining about how 8 people would never fit in the van, and it was illegal. (It wasn't - we called the police and checked) I thought that was the most obvious lie in the history of lies, but hey - we finally got in the car and got it packed and on the road. We ninja pick up my mother, and I have to go 20 miles in the opposite direction to give my husband money for work and say goodbye. At 4 pm, we aren't even on the road and my sister wants to take this kids to say goodbye to their dad. Let me give you a small example of what the texts are like: (S is my sister, NJ is the Nut Job husband)

NJ: Where the @&*! are you?
NJ: If you come back here for anything I"m going to slash the #($^@)^ tires. 
NJ: I love you
NJ: I just want to see the kids and say goodbye
S: leave me alone
NJ: #($^ you. 
NJ: I love you
NJ: I just miss you
NJ: It's my (*&@^$( van bring it back

NJ: I'm calling the cops
S: we'll see you in a week, if you hadn't been such an *^& I would have brought the kids to say goodbye
NJ: $&@^ you

And that would have been a 2 minute text-conversation. All that in 2 minutes. It's rather sad. Anyhoo....we veto the saying goodbye thing, based on the aforementioned text/conversation and we hit the road. We find out Nut Job is on the road as well, looking for us. We get stuck in traffic right outside of our town, and we don't breathe a sigh of relief until about 50 miles later, when we know he must  have given up and stopped trying to find us.

this is what we all felt like

Officially on our way to Atlantic City.

End of part one. (I'm serious - it was that stressful from the get go.)


Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Slap A Bitch

During all this time that I haven't blogged because I'm lazy for personal reasons, I have learned a few things about myself that I'd like to share.

1. "If there is food, I will eat it."

I hear this in my head throughout the day, with a Field of Dreams whisper - "If you cook it, Flabby will come." Truly. So now I have this weird baseball/Kevin Costner/food connection in my mind that just won't go away. I am now associating food with dead baseball players and corn fields. Lovely.


What I've learned, though, is not to buy snacky food and keep it in the house. Not for the husband, or the kid. They can all eat healthy right along with me - because if it's in the cupboard, I will eat it. Period.


2. Being fat colors every aspect of my life.

 Usually it's the color black. Anyway, I took my son to the movies Sunday for some mommy time. (I'm awesome. I know. That and I really wanted to see Real Steel again.) The whole time we were watching the movies, these horrible, awful , rotten teenage girls kept kicking my seat. I'm pretty sure they were using it for a footrest. It was extremely annoying, but I never said anything. The only, and I mean only reason I said nothing was this: I didn't want to hear her yell "fat bitch" at me. Or say anything that included the word fat in it. That is my singular fear at the moment. Being called fat when I stick up for myself. It plays out in my mind like this:

Me: Excuse me, could you stop kicking my chair please?

Stupid Teenage Girl: Shut up you fat bitch.

Then the scenario gets ugly because I punch her in the face and break her purty teeth. That part is fun to imagine.


You know you want to...

But it's sad I won't say anything because I'm scared of being called fat in public. Like they didn't already notice, because I wore my skinny jeans that day.

Whatever. The point is, I'm tired of being scared to live because of my weight. It's getting old, and the more I sit around at home, the fatter I'm gonna get.

Lessons learned.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

My Motivation

I've been hearing a lot of talk lately about "What's your motivation?" So many people have all these great reasons like -

I want to be healthy.
I want to play with my kids.
I want to live to see my grandkids.
I want to share my wealth of knowledge with the world.
I want to inspire others.

Crap like that.

I have those reasons too. But for some reason, in my head - they're these vague, distant aspirations that don't fully seem real. They're not tangible for me. Most of my reasons to lose weight it's, well, - shallow.

1. I want to be the Pirate Slut at a Halloween party. And look good doing it.

oh yeah, baby.

2. If I don't come up with a decent "after" picture pretty soon, I'm going to look like an Internet idiot.

Wait, that can't be right....

3. I want to wear my thigh high boots again.

4. I want to wear just my thigh high boots again. (wink wink)
Yup. Like that.

5. I want to have some frickin' awesome 'how I did this" health advice that everyone comes to my blog to see.

6. Because I don't want to end up on one of these:



6. I want to be the girl that did it. That actually lost all that weight, all 160 pounds of it.

7. I want to be on the cover of magazines and on talk shows. I want even Oprah or Dr. Phil to be all like "Way to go, girl!".

It's up to YOU.

Ok, maybe that last one is going a bit too far. But that's my motivation list. I want so badly to cram my homemade apple crisp into my mouth by the literal handful, but I can't because I want that after picture. I need that after picture.

I want to be cool too.