"hey, that's no smoothie..."

there is no other way to say this: i made a smoothie today and someone thought it was vomit.

it was so incredibly nasty that after trying to suck it down through a straw for 5 minutes, i decided that it was not going to happen for me. so I went to the office kitchen and started shoving it down the drain. That's when a co-worker walked in and said: "oh my gosh, are you okay? are you sick?" I looked up at him confused and he motioned to the sink. I looked down at my smoothie and realized that it indeed looked like puke.

smoothies are arguably the easiest thing to make behind toast. i mean you throw things into a blender, blend and then you enjoy. but somehow when i throw ingredients into a blender and blend, i get vomit.

now i know why this is a diet smoothie. it was so gross -- i didn't even think about lunch until 10:30 am.

I think I know where the Swine Flu started...

Hey DQ of Eden, Texas: You might want to take out the bathroom trash and plunge a few toilets. I can only imagine what kind of disease my body is now fighting off because of your bacteria-laden monstrosity of a bathroom. I guess in one sense, I can thank you for making my immune system that much stronger. On the other, this toliet rash may never go away. I can also thank you for warning us about the condition of your unseen kitchens. We made the wise choice of not eating at your establishment and in turn we might get to live one more day.

A direct quote from my husband: "Eden, Texas. Population: nasty."

So You Think You Can...

Somehow B and I have started passive-aggressively using the term "So you think you can ___" for chores around the house. For instance, if I get a basket full of clean laundry out of the dryer, I'll say to Bryan "So you think you can fold clothes?" and set them down in front of him with a stopwatch. Or in the evenings he'll look at me and say "So you think you can cook dinner?" then pours himself a glass of wine and watches me scramble through our refrigerator trying to make a meal out of peanut butter, salsa and string cheese.

It's getting bad -- and we've never even watched that show. I mean our everyday conversation starts of with those 5 words. "So you think you can get shower?" "So you think you can eat that whole pizza by yourself?" "So you think you can mow the grass already?"

Lord, help us.

(I swear I just heard Bryan say "So you think you can pray?")

sicky

You know what's not fun about a kidney infection?

When I tell people what I have, it sounds like I am saying "kendi infection". They usually nod, knowingly and say, yeah -- I hate when that happens.

you know what is fun about a kidney infection? surfing the Internet and watching all shows on TLC. here are some funny sites I found. After all, laughter is the best medicine. (and by laughter I mean 500 mg of antibiotics)

http://www.nothired.com/
http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/
http://www.dullestblog.com/
http://peopleofwalmart.com/

Now, that's funny.

I don't know who made this but that's funny. I salute you on your wit and your quick upload to youtube.

tall people discrimination. it's real and it's ugly.

I walked into a store the other day that I had never been in to before. Now I usually don't venture into new stores, especially alone, I've ended up lost in men's sections and baby stores before. But on that day I was feeling snarky. So I wander in like any other normal looking customer and started looking around. Soon enough I found myself in the pants section looking through the sizes. Out of nowhere, I hear someone yell out:

"Ma'am? That's the petite's section!"

I laugh to myself and turn around to look at the 6'2" moron in the petite's section so I can whisper " freak" to her and splash my coke in her face. As I turned to face this clown, I see all of these little women (no, not Jo, Amy, Beth or Meg -- just short women) staring up at me. I hear somone whisper "freak". Someone hurls a coke at me. As the sales woman approaches me, she looks up from her 5'3 stature that is complemented by 4 inch heels and says "Ma'am, this is the petite's section. Can I get you a tall or an average?"

Now, hold up, I say in a deep booming voice. "Maybe I like high waters, maybe I am petite and I'm wearing really tall shoes. Maybe I'm shopping for a friend. Maybe I'm blind and your clothing labels don't have braile. Maybe I'm going to sue you. Every think of that shorty?" Then I grabbed one of those little women (Meg) and held her at finger-gun point and backed out of the store with all of the size 8 petites that I could grab.

Actually, I stammered out something like "No, I...I'm fine..I'll be fine." then I beelined for the door.

I am done with adventure shopping. For now on, I'm sticking to what I know. And places that don't discriminate against people over 5'8".

Turn that music down, kids!

No. This can not be happening.

Bryan and I just turned on the MTV VMA's and we have absolutely no idea what is going on. I don't know who any of these people are, why they look so young and why they are dressed liked that. We even muted it during the commercials and during the musical performances.

I thought I was alone until I looked over at Bryan. (The only other time I see his face like that is when we are in Forever21.) I know how old people feel now, because I'm old. I guess I should I have known this when I was shopping the other day and I was drawn towards the mom jeans and those bright colored loose button downs worn over coordinating t-shirts.

Who knew 24 was the new 40? Dang, getting older is harder than I thought.

9 Steps to enjoy a pre-menstrual Friday night and weekend

**If you are a man, just go ahead and don't read this.

1. Sit on your couch with a remote in your hand. Blankets and husband, optional.

2. Skip dinner, go straight for dessert.

3. Wait patiently for the neighbor kid next door to come by selling those $15 tubs of cookie dough. (Isn't it that time of the year again? Well it should be.)

4. If the cookie dough kid never comes by, start raiding your fridge for anything that resembles ice cream. (Yes, old vanilla flavored coffee creamer counts.)

5. When you finally find an old carton, let it know it's place by saying "You're next, [Mint Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough] ice cream." (note: Mint Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough is my drug of choice. Any flavor is acceptable.)

6. After finishing off the ice cream at 8 pm, it's okay if you're still kind of hopeful that the cookie dough kid will come by. There's always tomorrow.

7. Watch useless shows like Full House, Toddlers and Tiaras and Friends. DO NOT watch Extreme Makeover: House Edition. You will cry uncontrollable for days, mumbling "it's just so sweet....so sweet."

8. Fall asleep, swearing you're going to work out tomorrow morning for two hours.

9. Wake up, repeat.

A not so subtle hint...

So it's no secret. I'm turning 25 in about a month and a half. And to make things easy on you, I've made a wishlist at Anthropologie. https://www.anthropologie.com/anthro/wishlist/wishlist.jsp?emailOrigin=true&giftlistId=gl466925507

This is not a joke. I repeat this is NOT a joke. Yes, Anthropologie is a bit pricey, but just get some friends together and pitch in say $25 to $50 each and make my dreams come true.

I've done my part, now it's up to you. It's my 25th, let's make it a good one.

best.letter.ever.

This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to Americancompany Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. It was PCMagazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.

I feel like I've written this letter so many times before.

Dear Mr. Thatcher:

I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up anddown the beach in tight, white shorts.

But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionaryFlexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize howcrucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer's monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words:

'Have a Happy Period.'

Are you kidding me? What I mean is, does any part ofyour tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling,laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anythingmentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James?

FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense tosay something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong'?

Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I hae chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull. And that's a promise I will keep.
Always. . .
Best,
Wendi Aarons