Of budgets and dogs.

Doing the budget makes me sad. You have a couple lines where you have money coming in, and hundreds where all the money went right back out. They say that keeping a budget helps you save. Is it because you get tired of writing every damn expense down so you say screw it?

We safely made it through the whole ordeal without the dog destroying a single receipt, though, so that was an accomplishment.

Speaking of my dog, she is not sitting in my lap, trying to distract me from the task at hand. She reminds me of the triceratops that I used to draw in elementary school when we learned about dinosaurs. All those dinosaurs kind of looked like dogs anyway at that age, and everything I drew had a big smiley face. She's grinning up at me, hoping to charm me into giving her some attention and really reminds me of a bad kid's drawing.

She obviously distracted me on some level, but not on the one she was hoping.

My evening reading before bed had me rolling with laughter. I highly recommend you check out You Suck at Craigslist when you need a reminder that common sense and IQ really were upgrades that not everyone received.

Beauty

Beauty isn't everything. But at that same time, it can be pretty important. You can't deny that beautiful people have an edge. And as much as I enjoy being a laid back girl, I do realize that I enjoy the comforts afforded to those who are beautiful. As such, I try to maintain the God-given beauty that was gifted to me.

In reality, I think that's mostly a girl thing. We want to maintain the looks we have for as long as we can. We use anti-aging this and that, we find the perfect outfit, we practice a good hairdo for our changing styles... we're not about to just hop out of bed and "wing it."

So the other night I used the at-home chemical peel, an AHA peel. Then I applied the retinol cream. Of course I had to top that off with a moisturizer to calm some of the fire that I'd just started in the cells of my skin. I like to think they were shocked into a state of actually spinning backwards fast enough to stop aging. Done regularly enough that should actually stop my face from aging, right? I can look late-twenty to early-thirty something for the rest of my life. (Yeah right!) As long as I don't look like I'm aging prematurely, I guess we'll call it even.

I try to get into working out. I try regularly to get into working out, but I can never stick with liking it (aka, gritting my teeth through it) long enough to make much impact. I love to eat healthy, except for my sweet tooth. I've had protein smoothies for breakfast, fruits and veggies without meat for dinner. My downfall is that I don't cook, though, so I have to rely on my beer belly husband for sustenance. Maybe one day I'll be able to move past the one-woman show of face wash and cream to keep my youthful appearance and stick with one of the many other options available.

In the mean time, I'll do my favorite beauty regimen of all... beauty sleep!

Egos

I really can't stand when people's egos get in the way of a good thing. Sometimes a person's vision can be so consumed with their own image that they fail to see what's really important. I really can't stand that. It's a detrimental thing, and it usually affects more than just that person because they feed their ego by crushing others. I'm for the underdog, so that doesn't go over so well in my book.

Brownie bombshell

Ok, yeah yeah, it's called cake days. And I'm cupcake. I got it, I'm basically a bakery whore. Easy to please, just shove some sugar in my mouth and I'll be happy. But seriously, we have to talk about these brownies. I will get the recipe if I have to hold that poor woman hostage or kidnap her children in the process.

So this woman brings me brownies at work. Belated birthday sentiment. Possibly she's an obsessive late night baker like in Grey's Anatomy. Who really cares. I was given brownies. That's one of those shiny silver lining moments in life.

Slightly before a lunch meeting, I'm already starving. The brownies are sitting behind my desk, but I can tell they are beckoning me quietly, like sugar-laced Sirens. I begin to imagine that I smell them, and finally I can't take it anymore. I scrounge up a knife, do the good coworkerly thing and offer the other girl that she can have a little if she's hungry too. I eat my little piece and fall straight down the rabbit hole.

I'm hooked. The brownies might just as well have been laced with crack. There is no going back now. I will never again be able to eat a cheap grocery store brownie. This is what heaven would taste like. As per Twitter, I would ask for these brownies to be my last meal before my execution, and then request that my execution was conducted by burying me alive in more of these brownies. Of course, I would eat my way to freedom, and the death that followed would probably suck, but I would have gorged on my weight in brownies at that point and would cease to care. I would leave this world in ecstasy.

My husband was allowed to try a little of the brownies when they came home with me tonight. He is the typical laid back, understated guy who rarely shows excitement over everyday things. I knew exactly when he tried the brownies though. He came running out from the kitchen yelling "Oh my GODDD!" He then ran up to me and planted a HUGE kiss on my mouth and asked "Where did you get those?!?!" I believe his explanation for how good they were involved learning a new yoga move that allowed him to fellate himself to remove the brownies from his member, even if he snapped his neck in the process. Obviously, we're a well-matched couple if we both relay how good something is by the way in which we would lay down our lives to obtain more of it. Morbid, maybe, but descriptive, most definitely.

So yes, I will hunt down this woman and obtain the recipe if it's the last thing I do. I will leave the recipe in my will to whoever is worthy enough to receive its legacy. Hell, if I really do die before I polish off the remaining batch, I'll leave the brownies themselves in my will. It will be the most anticipated item on the list. I will probably tell my (hypothetical) children about these brownies one day. Cake my ass, I'll take these brownies all day every day.



**The "crack" hyperlink is worth the click-- classic Dave Chappelle. Also, my husband wishes that everyone understand that a teeny bit of embellishment might have occurred to his description of the quality of the aforementioned brownies.

Skeeters

The skeeters have DEVOURED my legs. We somehow got a couple in our bedroom that waited until we fell asleep, then chomped up my legs. I'm sure they're quite obese now. I can only imagine how attractive that must have looked at work today as I scratched my ankle-- first politely, through the dress pants. But when that wasn't effective enough, I just pulled the leg up a little and scratched bare ankle until I was sure I would just rake off every layer of skin I had left.

Adding insanity to insult, I walked tonight with hubby at dusk. He frustrated me beyond belief and I was ready to kill him. I needed to walk off some steam, and I'm sure he was hoping that by the time we got back from walking, I would have partially forgotten about his stupidity. It worked somewhat. I sprayed down with repellant, but we'll see tomorrow if it actually worked.

AC is cooling nicely, making me eager to slink into bed. G'night!

Out late on a school night

I felt like a kid again tonight. We went out to dinner tonight and decided to treat ourselves to ice cream for dessert on our way home. We endured a particularly excruciating tirade from my in-laws about politics. Meanwhile, I day dreamed of having a gun or other device to end my life so the torture would end. Seriously, at that point I would have signed up for some Chinese water torture followed by the bamboo stake manicure.

So anyway, we get ice cream at the little neighborhood place that is usually just visited by the elderly who want to "splurge" or the young and bratty. Lo and behold, my parents' old neighbors (who are old as in no-longer living next door and also elderly) were there eating ice cream with their buds. The man always made me a little uncomfortable, so we dodged them and finished our ice cream where we were least likely to get noticed. I felt like that sneaky teenager again, hoping we didn't get busted by the neighbors as we snuck in after curfew... or snuck out for more privacy for a long drawn-out goodnight. Ah memories.

Twitter & Sleep

I joined twitter last night, so we'll try that out. Follow me if you'd like!


Sometimes plans fall through and provide an unexpected but delightful opportunity to sleep in. And sleep in I did. No worries, no moments of anxiety as I remembered what I was supposed to be doing... the time had been set aside, so when the plans fell through last night, I went to sleep knowing there was nothing that I was forgetting to do. Oh, and my bed has never felt so comfortable!

I think today might be a lazy movie day. Why not? I mean, I have a free and open schedule, so I'll really live it up with a whole lotta nothin'!


And in other news, if anyone is reading me... please feel free to comment or link exchange! God knows no woman is an island!