"You. Make. Me. Feel like I'm living A..."

As you can imagine, I am not one who gets embarrassed easily.  I think that is pretty obvious. So at times when people would ask "What's your most embarrassing moment?", I never really had an answer (Granted, my answer probably should be "everything that comes out of my mouth.")

Well, that is no more. I finally have my moment.

The other day, as I was headed home from work, I picked up my cell phone and tried to call a super good friend of mine (just in case there are any Po-Po out there, I totally wasn't driving yet. (I recently got a little speeding ticket, I don't want to push my luck) Can I do parenthesis within parenthesis? I think I have a parenthesis addiction). Anyhow, she didn't answer so I left her a humorous message, hung up, and proceeded to do what I always do when I am alone in the car- crank up some tunes, and belt my heart out like I am holding some kind of Lollapalooza inside my car. Seriously I make the faces, dance, and everything. I'm pretty sure one day someone is going to ask me to be in their music video.

Fast forward ten minutes, my phone does it's little text message jangle.I open that bad boy up, and it is a message from the super good friend I tried to call.

"I don't know what I loved more, (the humorous yet slightly inappropriate comment I left on her voice mail), or the fact that you never ended the call and serenaded me with car singing of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream". Oh yes, it's saved as an audio file for our next assembly"

At that moment, in addition to wondering exactly why I considered her such a super good friend, I was horrified! How did I not properly hang up the phone!?! My singing is TERRIBLE!!!! That's why I only do my belt-outs when I am alone. I don't even subject my children to that sound! (although I am now realizing that will be a wicked punishment for missed curfews etc. in the future!) Seriously, I used to get in so much trouble in middle school during choir because I would goof off rather than sing what I was supposed to be singing (sorry Mrs. Koemon!), but little did the teacher know, I was just trying to protect everyone from bleeding to death through their ears!

You are probably thinking I can't be all that embarrassed, since I am BLOGGING about it! But that is only because you guys can't hear it. And lucky for me, super good friend is like me, and loves to threaten to do all kinds of horrible things, but will never actually do it. Which is just ONE reason why I love her so much. Although I am probably testing my luck by calling her bluff on this.

Hey, is it weird that I haven't blogged about my new haircut yet? Or is it weird that I blog about my hair at all? Either way, I figured I at least owe you blog faces a little chat about it since I put you through all of my beforehand musings- "should I? shouldn't I?" and "Oops, my ears are dumb, guess I can't!"

Well, I thought long and hard about it, looked at billions of pictures, and asked pretty much everyone I know their opinion on "to cut or not to cut". (I don't know why. I don't really care what other people think about that kind of stuff, but me verbalizing stuff everywhere is part of how I work stuff out for myself. Sorry for those of you that have to suffer through it with me, but...well, there is no but, I'm just sorry!)

Anyways, after quite some time of me obsessing over this, I realized I would never stop until I just did it. I said to myself, "Lenny, you know how you are. It's something you have to do. You will probably hate it, but you have to try." (I don't think I actually called myself Lenny, but it sounds cool here) So I settled on a haircut, held some final meetings at work about if I should go through with it or not (again, knowing I wouldn't actually take people's advice if they said not to), and headed to my hair dresser!

Now, I knew I would have to do some convincing here. And immediately my lady was like...."Um, no. That is too short. I don't think we should do it." And the more she resisted, the more I knew I had to do it and would be disappointed if I walked out of there without a short cut. I told her that I knew I would probably hate it, but I really wanted to do it, and would not hold her accountable in any way.  After about 15 minutes of me basically begging, she reluctantly gave in.

Now, I'm not going to lie. I had a moment of fear when she whacked off a huge chunk, and I asked "have you done many short cuts?"
She replied " No, not really, so I'm excited because this will be outside of my box." Uh oh.

Once we got going, she got really into it, and I could tell she was enthusiastic about it. I didn't even feel an ounce of regret as I watched the stylist next to me fix this woman's long, shiny hair into a beautiful up-do.

And when she was finished- I loved it! And I have loved it ever since. Short hair is the easiest thing EVER! And it feels so fresh, and new and different! Seriously people, I feel like I could move mountains! I have to say, when poor Britney Spears shaved her head and everyone thought she went insane, I have since realized that is the moment she was at her sanest.

And now I am obsessed, and want to make it even easier and shorter. I think a lot of the satisfaction comes from the fact that I did something I've thought my whole life I could never do. I thought I would look like a dumb hole. And you know what, maybe I do, but it is so EASY, fresh and different, I don't even care! It was also satisfying to know myself and know it was something I needed to do.

Okay, I know it's just hair. Obviously the cut didn't solve all of my problems. I'm gonna stop now. Blogging about it that is, not cutting it.

my computer has been taken hostage

I would totally write a new blog, but my husband has taken over the computer. I'm not kidding, he is hogging it mega time!! He just got up to make popcorn and I dived in to at least write this little note. I think our computer chair is permanently shaped like his butt. Oops. He is reading this over my shoulder now.  Okay, he walked away back to his popcorn. I guess I could go on now that he has left, but it's kinda grossing me out that the seat is still warm from his perma-butt.
Outs!

An apology...

Dear Body,

Wow. The ways I've been treating you for the past few months have been horrible. It's ridiculous,  considering the fact that you've grown, delivered, nurtured, and continue to care for, the things most important to me (talking about my babies here, not fat cells).

The only part I've been good to, is you, tongue. Which is a joke, because you are the part that gets me in the most trouble, with all those things you make me say. Yet I have rewarded you with tasty morsel after tasty morsel. To be honest, you kind of remind me of the devil, tongue, always leading me to temptation.

After all you have given me, dear body, I have continued to abuse you and expect you to perform your best. Can I pull up to the gas station, throw some dirt in the tank, and expect my car to run smoothly (or at all)?!? Nope. Can you deprive a mule of water and nutrients, and expect it to haul people and up and down the Grand Canyon?? I think not! And imagine what would happen if you pumped that mule full of all the coffee and sugar I've pumped into you! That story would make the news for sure! ("Woman Dies After Over Caffeinated Donkey Bolts Over Edge of Grand Canyon")

My point is, how can I expect you to be energized, motivated, focused, in a good mood, able to think straight, and on and on and on, if I continuously stuff junk into you, and deprive you of the exercise, movement, and nutrients you crave??? I can't. Not anymore. I'm sorry for being so negligent. All those mornings, running out of the house without breakfast. Eating a handful of M&M's for lunch (OK, let's be honest, half a bag. OK fine! The whole dang bag!) Always saying to myself "I'll get back to exercising tomorrow".

I'm sorry it's taken the spare tire around my middle, and some mega tight pants for me to take notice of the pain I've been causing you. I should have just looked at my babies to remind me of the amazing things you are capable of. I hope you'll accept this blog post as my official apology. And as my first step towards accountability. (Granted, I'm probably going to regret this tomorrow when everyone starts calling me FattyMcGee). But I will take it, body. To show you that I mean it this time. You have given me an amazing 33 years, and it's time I give you the love and attention you deserve.