My Little Life

Yo, Self, listen up. Effective immediately, I am putting a ban on all this munching, snacking, seconds, eatingwhateveryouwant business. Your love handles are begging me. Your saddle bags are pleading with me to do something about you and your stuffing your pie hole problem. I am taking a drill sergeant approach and there will be NO MORE LATE NIGHT SNACKING! NO MORE "JUST A COUPLE" OF DORITOS! ("A couple", yeah right...) NO MORE FAT FOOD! (Yes, I said "Fat"...as in "fat faSt food".) HUP TO IT! GET OFF THE COUCH! LACE UP THOSE SNEAKERS! ( Pssssst ...if this hardass approach doesn't work, maybe fear tactics will: Swimsuit season is right around the corner, dear Love Handles...I mean, dear Saddlebags...I mean, dear Mama. Muwahahaha! Yer shakin ' in yer boots now, aren'tcha ?!) All my love, You know who

Dearest Bonehead Mama: The next time You see an orange crayon Fall into the depths of the washing machine And underneath the agitator Try harder to get it out. M'kay ? That's all. Carry on. All my best, You (me?)

Dearest Overachieving Self: You DID it! You conquered the beast that was Intense Debate and you ate it for breakfast! I have to say, I didn't think you had it in you girl, but, you did me proud! Now...if only saddle bags came with html code...perhaps you could conquer those, once and for all. 'Til we meet again, Moi Oh, and psssst...I promise I won't tell anyone that it was just a simple click of a link. I won't say a word that there really wasn't any html code involved, m'kay? Your secret is safe with me!

Yo! Self...it's me (again)... I've gotta a bone to pick with you, girl. Dude...when you go shopping for Easter clothes at the 10th hour...you can NOT get frustrated when you find everything (yes, EVERYTHING) is picked over. You hear? It is your own stinkin' fault that your kids are going to look like a mish-mash of colors...all willy nilly...no color scheme or matching involved whatsoever. You...my dear...have only yourself to blame for procrastinating. Suck it up. And, don't complain. Next year, get a head start, m'kay? Alrighty, then. Til next time, Me

Yo...Mama...it's me. Your self. We need to chat, 'k? This whole laundry fiasco you pulled today? You can't let that happen... ever. again . Not necessarily the whole ruining of your sweet daughter's favorite, barely worn, cuter than the dicken's sweatshirt...but, the whole...the whole...the whole emotional break down part of it! Dude!! It's just a shirt. Now, I know you would've crushed her little heart (good thing ebay saved ya, 'eh?!!)...but, really!? Tears? The urge to vomit? I'll cut ya a break this time, chica ...I know the Captain is still lingering...but, please...hold it together next time, will ya? Alrighty then! Love ya! Buh -bye! Muah ! Thanks a bunch,

Dearest self: This is your body speakin '. I've been thinkin ', and I'm ready to accept your apology . I realize that what you are doing to me with this whole ( *raises fingers in air...gives "air quote" symbol* ) " KettleWorx " deal is for my own good. But sista '...I've gotta level with you... This: Ain't neva ' gonna happen. HA!! Talk about wishful thinking! And, don't even think about asking Santa to bring you a "Giselle-like" body. He'd laugh so hard he might pee his pants. And pee'd on pants + below freezing temps = a miserable night for the big guy. Please, give him a break, and just don't ask. ' kay ? Alrighty then! Love ya! Muah ! Respectfully yours, Your Bod

Dear body: I am sorry. I am so very sorry that I kicked your jiggly, floppy butt into gear yesterday. I know that you can not walk down the stairs, sit on the toilet, or tie your shoes. And heaven forbid, do NOT get down in a crouch...' cuz I know you'll be stuck like that, forever . I'm sorry that you can't cross your legs and that shopping was so utterly painful that you wanted to cry like a baby. I'm sorry. But, really, it's for your own good. I know you can't understand that now, with your "jiggly" all sore and stuff, but you'll thank me for this later. When you aren't so jiggly. And sore. I promise...you will thank me for this later. You will. Someday, when you look like this: Um...okay...you can stop laughing now... All my love,

Dearest naive, clueless, grandiose thinking self: Please be advised, that the next time you have thoughts such as, "Gee, wouldn't it be fun to go to the outlet mall on a Saturday afternoon during the Gap Friends and Family sale"...yeah, um... those kind of thoughts? Well, don't be surprised when the 4,839 acre parking lot is jammed full and people are in a shopping frenzy comparable to "Black Friday". It's what happens when there is a big sale. You can't be surprised. Or frustrated. Or stressed. Or crabby. ' Cuz it's your own fault, dude!!! Next time...know better! ;) All my love,