I’m Going To Annoy The Crap Out Of You Now

It occurred to me today, as I was participating in the time-suck we call Facebook, that there are a whole lot of cranky people out there. Frankly, I find it disturbing. Sure, I suppose our natural tendency as humans is to complain about stuff, and I’ll admit that I’m guilty of it myself on occasion. Usually at work after a night of insomnia and a morning of dealing with bad people. But as a whole, I really try to be happy, and positive, and cheerful, and annoying as crap, and to not take one single tiny thing for granted, and to say really dumb stuff to try to make people laugh, even if it’s just for a second, because a second of laughter is so much better than a second of being all frowny. Write this shit down. I’m spewing wisdom here. Someone should really consider carving my head into a mountain or something. I’m gonna get on that. You guys know any good mountain carvers? If so, hook me up. Anyway, right now, I’m going to share all the things that are making me extremely happy right at this very moment, because complaining is dumb.

1. I’m eating a pork chop with my hands like some sort of caveperson, and messy eating is just fun.

2. I got carded for wine today. 38 years old, what? Not me.

3. I have no bra on, and my boobs are like, “Ahhhhhhh.”.

4. There is sunshine on my big toe, which is greatly in need of a pedicure, which I may just have to do this weekend.

5. My little dog just sneezed a bit of pork chop on my leg, and that made me laugh.

6. I spy a bottle of Sweet Red with my name on it over there on the counter.

7. Nothing hurts. Not even the mysterious intermittent right buttcheek pain I’ve been experiencing the past day. Don’t ask me what that’s all about.

8. Spring flowers I bought last Sunday are still as fresh as the day I bought them, and brightening my dining room table.

9. All the bills sitting next to my computer are paid, and I even have money left over for some new Dr. Pepper flavored lip balm or somethin’.

10. I have a date with a very nice comic book artist next weekend, and he’s promised me the best cheeseburger in Chicago. I have high hopes for this burger. And for the date, I guess.

11. My family is all alive and well and crazy and all mine.

12. Imagine Dragons ‘On Top Of The World’ playing on my iPod, and it just makes me smile.

13. I don’t have to do a damn thing for the next 6 hours except plop my booty on the couch and watch a chick flick while drinking wine.

14. Life is just good.

There you have it, folks. If I haven’t sufficiently annoyed you with my happiness, then you’re probably just a robot. I’ll try harder next time. For now, though, it’s Wine Thirty. Pants are comin’ off, TV’s goin’ on. Do not disturb.

 

 

Suck It, MyFitnessPal

Dear MyFitnessPal,

Despite your claim to be my ‘pal’, I’m afraid I’m going to have to walk away from this friendship. You see, this evening it occurred to me, that you, in fact, suck.

Before you try to object, I’ve thought this through for approximately 12 minutes, and have come up with a list of very valid reasons why:

1. I just searched for the calorie content of 10 kalamata olives and 2 cups of romaine lettuce, and that is really, really dumb.

2. I love cupcakes. They make me happy. And I don’t feel I can share with you when I eat one. Or three. Whatever. Three times the cupcakes = three times the happiness, that’s what I think.

3. When you tell me I could be 112 pounds in 2 weeks if I were to just stay unhealthily under my recommended caloric intake every single day, it’s just a lie. We all know that’s not how it works, MyFitnessPal. And frankly, if you were a person, I’d kick you in the nuts for making people think this sort of behavior is ok.

4. Sometimes I go to bed with my stomach growling because you told me I was over my limit for the day. Then I have dreams that involve me being in a hot tub full of nacho cheese. That shit’s just weird. Although, I’d probably totally do it if a hot tub full of nacho cheese presented itself to me.

5. I hide my raging martini and margarita habit from you. There. I said it. And no, I don’t want to know how many calories are in my margarita. All I need to know is that it’s delicious and that I should have more of them. You should really be more encouraging about these things.

6. I exercise. A lot. And I enjoy doing so, not just because you tell me I can have an extra 600 calories today because I took a Spin class, but because it makes me feel good. For 38 years old, I think I’m doing pretty well for myself, with the exception of some thigh jiggle I’ve been trying to get rid of for 3 years and, let’s face it, probably ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’ve accepted it. I don’t need you to.

7. Last, but not least, is that I’m just tired. Tired of scrutinizing every calorie I put in my mouth, and tired of feeling guilty if I consume one more olive than I’m supposed to. You’re just no fun, MyFitnessPal. Have some pie, you uptight bastard.

I feel like there should be three more reasons here to put things at an even ten, but I’m trying to let go of my obsessive-compulsive behavior, so screw it.

By the way, I know damn well I burn more than 200 calories in an hour of lifting weights, you asshole.

Sincerely,

Paula In The Country Drinking Wine And Not About To Search For It’s Caloric Content

 

 

Regifting Done Right. Yee Haw.

Sorry, Redneck wine glass, your time here is done.

I’m Klassy. With a capital K, y’all.