Rocky approved of my decision to not get out of my pajamas for 48 hours straight:

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I dropped a pound today. It might have been water weight. It might have been me taking my calorie intake down. I have no idea what it was but it made my day a teensy bit better. Since I was sick today’s the first weekday in 4 weeks I haven’t gotten up at 5a to do some sort of work out. I’ll have to do it when I get home which sucks, but I’ll manage.

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My brother and his wife are having a baby any day now and since he threatened to never speak to me again if I wasn’t there for the birth I’ve been ready to go at a moment’s notice for the past week. My only request so far was to not have the baby on the 10th because my friend, Erin, is having her birthday party that night and it’ll be fun… I am a selfish aunt/sister/SIL and I’m ok with it.

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We are in the process of planning our 2012 summer vacation. There’s a pretty big group of us (with kids) wanting to go so it’s like figuring out a frickin’ Rubix Cube to get everything all worked out so everyone can go. Throw in my mom being annoyed with me because I’m not going on vacation with her and my grandma and it’s turned into one dramatic, stress-filled issue. My mom’s suggestion is to just let her take Evie for one week to the beach and then Evie can go back to the beach with me. I know she thinks I’m being selfish or possibly just being a brat, but I’m not. I don’t want to be apart from Evie for a week. I worry about Evie when I’m not with her and throw in ten hours of (my mom’s) driving and Evie being in the ocean all week and I’ll be lucky to not overdose on Xanax while the child is gone. SO toss that whole thing in with the fact that my brother and his wife are probably coming on vacation with me and my mom is just a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any second. Ahhh, welcome to my life.

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Can we go back to my Mad Men obsession? Now, I get it. I’m 5 years late to the party. But still… I am so addicted to this show. I want nothing to do with any other show right now and I’m seriously not lying when I say I burned through all of season one in a little over a day. I have so many questions… When is Betty going to snap?! WHY doesn’t she question Don’s late nights?! Why was everyone hot for Peggy when she first started working at the company? (Because all I could focus on were her terrible, terrible bangs.) Why was Peggy hot for gross Pete Campbell?! Why is Joan such a smug bitch?! I admit, I am way more intrigued by the women in this show and could possible do an entire post on it but I felt like everyone else would be all, “Whitney… step into 2012,” so I did not.

So, from watching Mad Men I’ve learned that a) every single person in the 60s smoked about 2 packs a day. This includes pregnant women and possibly children… b) No one cared if you were married and offices in the 60s, despite not being the least bit soundproof, were the perfect place to carry on your extramarital affairs and finally, c) it was perfectly acceptable to be boozing it up in your office by noon. In fact, it was encouraged.

I plan on bringing a bottle of bourbon in to work sometime this week, with a decanter and glasses, and I will let you all know how it goes.

(You guys should probably start helping me look for jobs…)

I lose weight if I’m super stressed or super excited. When Mike and I started dating I had just gotten out of a terrible relationship so combine that with the excitement of dating someone new and I lost a decent amount of weight. You know how that goes. It’s new, it’s exciting, you’re too busy being excited about things to eat. That’s exactly what happened. But then, as things settled down and Mike and I got into a routine, especially with him moving in, there were more home cooked meals every night and less, let’s go out and party when we don’t have Evie. We got comfortable. It happens to the best of us. Both of us gained weight. There were a few attempts at, “Hey, we should maybe try to lose some weight…” but then we’d find a movie on tv we wanted to watch and decided “Oh I know! Let’s make a giant, cheesy pasta dish to go with this movie we’re about to watch!” and that’s how we gained about 20 pounds.

I granted myself some leeway through the holidays because if you’ve ever tasted my grandma’s homemade candy, you would understand that there is no resisting it. You just give in and accept the five pounds per bite you will gain directly to your ass and thighs. But after New Years, we got down to business. Mike’s sister was giving her treadmill away so we gladly told her we’d take it off her hands. It looks hideous but I will take one for the team of Looking Hot for Summer 2012.

I’ve been getting up every day (Monday-Friday) at 5am and running (well… walking briskly because the treadmill skips and you have to hold on with both hands if you want to run so I compromised and cranked up the incline to about 6 or 7 while walking at about 3.5mph.) I went to the grocery and gave our entire kitchen an overhaul with nothing but fresh fruits and vegetables, brown rice, chicken, fish, whole grain, whole wheat. I’ve done INSANELY well about sticking to healthy eating habits with only a minor slip up here and there. (Seriously, it’s happened like twice.)

I’m still really motivated. So much so that I decided that cardio wasn’t cutting it and decided to add in Jillian Michaels’ “30 Day Shred” work out every other day. Do you know how annoying Jillian Michaels is at 5:00 in the morning? DO YOU? But I’ve done it. I’ve only taken off on the weekends but that’s only with exercise. I’ve stuck to my calorie intake that was designated by myfitnesspal.com. To lose 1lb a week based on my height and weight, my calorie intake was at 1500 calories. I’ve been under my calorie goal almost every day!

I have not lost a POUND. Not one. We are going on week four. I weighed myself today and you all…. I GAINED A POUND.

I don’t understand.

I know that the scale is terrible and you should judge by inches and not the numbers on the scale but SOMETHING has got to give. I honestly don’t know what to do! I have gone from basically little to no exercise to getting up five days a week and doing something! Weights and cardio! But my clothes don’t really feel any looser and the scale hates me.

Am I doing something wrong?

Do I need to get some blood work done?

Am I just going to keep getting fatter because that’s what it feels like.

I’m not going to quit but sheesh… I’m not saying there weren’t tears at the scale this morning either.

Which lead to me hitting their bumper.

I wasn’t injured. My car wasn’t injured. I didn’t THINK their car was injured but apparently this upstanding citizen thought differently.

“Eh… I actually see some scratches. And it looks like you maybe have broken your license plate holder…”

Are you kidding me? I see three MINISCULE scratches on your bumper. Like I could pull out some red fingernail polish and solve this problem instantly.

But no.

They asked for my information so I obliged.

YOU ALL. I had to get within like two inches of their bumper to see what they were talking about. (And I know. Mike screamed, “How did you know those weren’t already there??” and I don’t for sure, but this person totally plays by the rules. You can tell. The thought of lying never entered their brain.)

So, we exchanged info and I just got off the phone and told them I would more than likely pay out of pocket because there’s no use in my insurance going up over THREE SCRATCHES.

After I left the scene of the crime, thoroughly annoyed, I had to get gas. For most humans, getting gas isn’t a big deal but since today is being an asshole, my gas tank decided to get stuck. At this point, I’m already late for work, I’ve “tapped” a car, and I’m cold. My morning is going downhill fast…

No matter how much I tugged, my gas tank wouldn’t budge. No matter how many times I pressed the release lever it wouldn’t pop open. After ten minutes of futile attempts, a gentleman approached me and said, with a tone of Are You Brain Damaged, “You have to hold the release and pull on the gas tank at the same time.”

Well, ok, great, Mr. Rubber Band Arms, you wanna show me how YOU do that? Because the last time I checked I didn’t have a wing span of a CONDOR.

I would have been nicer had he not sounded entirely disgusted by my absence of a Masters Degree in Getting Shit UnStuck Like Gas Tanks, but he didn’t so I wasn’t. Besides, he offered to help ME. Not like I begged him for his all knowing wisdom of Getting Shit UnStuck Like Gas Tanks.

Instead, I said, “Great. Do you mind to pull on the gas tank while I hold the lever?”

THEN.

He sighed. Like he was exasperated with my situation!

Listen, dick, I’ve just had a really crappy morning and TRUST ME, I would have eventually pried my gas tank open so don’t do ME any favors because you feel the need to fulfill your Good Citizen meter or whatever.

But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I mumbled a thank you and went to pay.

Except THEN I noticed my credit card was bent and the card reader wouldn’t read it.

I KNOW.

I had to haul ass into the store, ask the guy to manually enter my credit card number, stand there while he made some lame joke about loving delete buttons that I had no interest in understanding and I finally made it back out to my car and on my way to work…

I just got off the phone with the insurance agent.

The person I hit has already filed a claim. For three scratches.

This is 100% Monday dressed up like Tuesday.

Back to the story at hand, though. New Years Day found me awake at freakin’ 7am, which is typical for me if I have any alcohol the night before. I’m not one of those lucky few who can sleep off a hangover. And honestly, I really wasn’t that hungover on New Years Day. I’d been somewhat responsible the night before, I’ll have you know. Regardless, my body knew that I had consumed alcohol so this is how I came to be sitting on the couch at a terribly early hour watching that awful Adam Sandler movie, Just Go With It. (Why, Jennifer Aniston? Why would you sign on for this? It was the trip to Hawaii, wasn’t it? I’d probably be ok with doing a terrible movie too if it meant I’d be spending a great deal of time in Hawaii.)

Regardless. There I was, nursing a mild headache and being inexplicably sucked into this movie when my mother called at 9:30a informing me that she was cooking hot dogs for lunch if Michael and I wanted to join her. Knowing I wouldn’t be in the mood for cooking, I agreed that *I* would be there. Michael would be in the bed for the majority of the day. (Well, that’s what happens when you play a game that involves rolling a dice and taking however many shots that the dice says.) Anyways, there was just one small matter at hand that she asked me to take care of and so I agreed. (She was giving me free hot dogs! My guiltiest food pleasure! Don’t judge me…)

She needed hot dog buns.

No big deal.

She told me she’d be back from church around 12:15p so I had plenty of time to grab them. I assumed Rite Aid would have them so I ventured there first to notice they had a measly 3 loaves of stale bread on their depleted shelves. Odd for Rite Aid… Then I went to a gas station that is 30 seconds from my house thinking, “Hot dog buns are a common item to run out of, right? This place will definitely have them!”

Had I been in search of hamburger buns, I would have hit the jackpot. But apparently this place discriminated against the hamburger’s porky cookout mate and was told, “Nope, but the gas station down the street has them for sure.” I was getting aggravated at this point because I know for a fact that I have bought hot dog buns at Rite Aid before and if a gas station has hamburger buns in stock it should be contractually obligated to keep hot dog buns in stock as well. These things are like peas and carrots!

Long story sort of short… I went to the next gas station to find that NO. WE HATE HOT DOGS TOO.

WTF.

I was trying to avoid going to WalMart or Kroger just because they’re further than I wanted to travel at all considering I was in giant baggy sweatpants, last night’s makeup, and a messy ponytail. Whitney was not looking her best by any means.

Anyways, I decided that Save-A-Lot, which I typically avoid at ALL costs because of the clientele that tends to visit the Save-A-Lot closest to me, would be my best bet for avoiding any people I may know or would have reason to feel ashamed of my appearance in front of. (Don’t think I’m being all snobby because I’m not… This Save-A-Lot is ROUGH.)

First off, this is the brightest store I have ever been in my ENTIRE life. It was like a damn spotlight the second I walked in and my mild headache went from mild to near-migraine in half a second.  Second, I have suddenly become annoyed at my mother because BRENDA. I KNOW you just went to the grocery so why would you choose to make the one thing for dinner you don’t have all the necessities for!

But third and most off, as I walk around the corner there is this guy… who looks like the biggest scumbag I have ever seen…. standing there with a girl who I assume to be his girlfriend. As I’m walking by, IN MY SWEATPANTS AND NASTY PONYTAIL AND SMEARED MAKEUP, he looks at me and snarls his lip up and says, “You are one sexy motherfucker.”

Ok, let’s pause a second.

A)The girl you are with is standing RIGHT next to you and she looks absolutely horrified that you would have the nerve to utter these words to a complete stranger.

B) In what world has calling a random stranger a “sexy motherfucker” EVER worked for you? What did you think was going to happen? I was going to drop my purse and throw myself at you in the middle of the dairy section in Save-A-Lot???

I was actually blown away for a second. Then I remembered where I was and immediately gave the guy my best “You’re an a-hole” face. So I kept walking only to hear the guy shout out, “Oh this isn’t my girlfriend!”

Right.

Like that’s what was stopping me, pal.

I gave him the bird and walked around the corner.

P.S. The hot dog buns were stale. I shall never return to Save-A-Lot. Ever.

P.P.S. My mother didn’t have faith in me retrieving the hot dog buns so she sent my stepdad out for them as well. (“I figured you had fallen back to sleep, Whitney!” Thanks, Brenda. I’ll remember that.) Turns out, WalMart didn’t have them either. Apparently everyone was eating hot dogs on New Years Eve.

(Nobody stares longingly at each other in real life!)

Anyways, I picked up two new books this week at my trusty ol’ library.The first one I’m reading is this:

It’s categorized as science fiction… And yeah, it’s in the future and it’s sort of about video games, but you guys… The pop culture references! I understand that may not be enough to drive some people to actually read this book but it had me from the Ghostbusters reference on the first page. It’s set in 2045 and the world isn’t looking so hot. However, people do have an escape. It’s a virtual world called OASIS which was created by this guy (now billionaire) named Halliday. Halliday was an 80s fanatic since that’s when he was a teenager so he’s obsessed with all things 80s. But, bad news, kids. Halliday bites the dust. But! Not before sending out a worldwide announcement telling everyone that he’s hidden an Easter egg somewhere in OASIS (which is made up of thousands and thousands of different worlds) and that whoever finds it? They get his entire inheritance… Yeah, no biggie. But then… Wade, a really smart kid with a really rough life, finds a clue. From then on out, game on. When you’re talking billions of dollars it’s not necessarily that big of a deal to take out an 18 year old kid in a world that’s pretty much gone to hell in a handbasket, right? Well, let’s hope for Wade’s sake he can outsmart everyone else.

Anyways, I’m only about 75 pages in but so far so good. I’ll keep you updated and I’ll let you know when I start the second one.

Happy Friday!

Christmas was fantastic.  Some of the stuff I got:

1) The watch was Evie’s gift to me. She’s such a girl and almost everything she picks out for anyone is pink. Last year it was pink bunny slippers, this year a pink watch. All the bling on it makes me smile and she checks to make sure I’m wearing it every day. I tried to find a link to it and I can’t, but I’m 99% sure she got it at Kohl’s. My child has an unnatural love for the store…

2) Ah! The ring I’ve been wanting! Mike asked me to give him a list of jewelry I liked and this was on the list. It’s small, it’s dainty, and it’s not like it’s covered in diamonds. Mike got it engraved on the inside as well. Perfect for every day wear!

3) He also picked me up a jacket too. (He did good, didn’t he?!) I don’t have a very casual coat so this is perfect for UK gameday clothes, I think. Chilly while tailgating? Not anymore.

4) Ok, so NO he did not get me a Burberry scarf. (Those things are like $400! Who spends that kind of money on a piece of fabric?!) But he got me a knockoff. Our favorite part is how it says, “100% Cashmere FEEL.” So they’re saying it 100% feels like cashmere? Isn’t that a little subjective? What if *I* don’t think it feels like cashmere? Regardless, I bought this new camel colored coat a while back and wanted a scarf to go with it. However, I cannot provide you with a link because… well, because I have no idea where he got it as I assume lots of places sell Burberry knockoffs. (Without calling them Burberry, of course.)

Those pics are obviously the big ticket items I got. The rest was little stuff like a couple of outfits from American Eagle, some movies like Bridesmaids and the Scream series. I got a lot of E.L.F. makeup. It was a really nice Christmas. Evie’s haul was just ridiculous… For everything she got, she had to get rid of at LEAST one toy that she’s had for a while because there was just no way we could fit everything into our house. My mom got her a drum set.

YOU GUYS.

A six year old with a drum set is just so… unnecessary. Also: Loud, Obnoxious, Annoying.

My mom said, “But what if she has a talent, WHITNEY.”

To which I replied, “Well, good, then she can develop this ‘talent’ at YOUR house.”

And that, my friends, is how you get a kid’s drum set to live at your mom’s house.

Ok, now on to the whole resolution part of the post. Little late but I’m ok with that.

1) To lose weight: I know! Like Sarah said, “How cliché!” But no, seriously, 2012 has to be the year I get into shape. I’m seriously the biggest I have EVER been (not counting pregnancy) and I’m just so UNCOMFORTABLE. Michael’s on board with this so I think it’ll be easier with both of us trying. We’re picking up the treadmill his sister gave us this weekend. I’m excited about having a treadmill. I’m not excited about the fact that we don’t really have room for a treadmill, but that’s ok. We’ll make it work.

2) Continue being somewhat organized: Organization does NOT come easy to me. I’m a giant, disheveled mess most of the time. (Or that’s how I feel anyways.) I bought a planner this summer that has really helped me get way more organized than I’ve ever been.  I want to continue on this path. Plus, I’ve been trying to log my meals and with my planner’s “Morning, Day, and Night” sections on each day, it makes it easy.

3) Spend more time in church: (I know, I feel like I”m copying Sarah’s list too… Hush.) I don’t know why I ever balk on going to church. I always feel a thousand times better when I leave and I’ve really let this slip the past year. There’s no reason for this. My church offers one service on Saturday nights and THREE on Sunday morning. I have zero excuses. So, this year I really want to do better.

4) Write more: Either here or on Best Of The 80s, I want to start writing more. It’s what I love to do and it’s something that I feel like I’m somewhat good at. (This blog doesn’t necessarily count so much as I just throw random things at you over here as a way to just empty my brain.) Writing is what I WANT to do so there is absolutely no reason I shouldn’t constantly be doing it. I have the time, I have the desire… I just need to get to it! I’m currently looking into a couple of small writing gigs that will hopefully pan out. I’ll keep you updated.

Ok, so now it’s your turn, if you feel so inclined, to tell me what you got for Christmas, what your resolutions are, what you’re having for dinner. I don’t care. Totally up to you. Or just leave my comment section bare. I guess I’m ok with that too.

(Did that make you feel a little guilty about not leaving a comment? If not then I failed at my goal.)

Which, you’re probably thinking like me, “Oh one will be a craft station where they can make macaroni necklaces, one will be a cookie station, etc, etc.”

UM.

NO.

I got there a tad late. (Yes, love me because I’m consistent at least.) I wandered down the hallway to Evie’s class which was dark and locked up and then aimlessly walked around the school a bit until I decided I should ask the secretary where they had my child. Turns out? In the auditorium… where there was an entire ballet company on stage performing!

What the?!

The girls were enthralled, the boys were fidgeting in their seats, and I was like, “Well, hellloooo lovely place to sit and have my coffee! Don’t mind if I do!”

Anyways, while I’m sitting there enjoying a gingerbread latte and the ballet is in full swing, I notice there’s a girl dancing around a tree. Then a guy came out and he started dancing around the tree. (Seems simple enough.) Then a lady in a black flowy dress with what appears to be a cape came out and danced around holding an apple. In the meantime, the guy had gone back stage leaving the girl to be offered the entire apple.

So, the girl (not black, flowy, cape lady) takes the apple and flutters around stage and I think to myself, “Huh… So weird for them to be performing Snow White at a Christmas party… Eh well.”

But then… a man, in a robe with a rather prominent beard, came out and started pointing at the girl (who had since been joined by the guy I’d originally thought was the prince) and I’m like, “Wait a second… there was no bearded man in a robe in Snow White! Gah, learn how to tell a story correctly here, ballet company! No ad libbing!”

But then… the bearded man started pointing, rather angrily, for the guy and girl to leave.

OH.

Garden of Eden.

I see where we’re going with this.

It’s the story of the BIBLE.

Jesus made it into the 3rd act.

Which… good, because if not, that was the worst performance of Snow White I’ve ever seen.

The worst.

You don’t even have to tell me.

How about snippets? I like it when people do snippets on their blog, so I’m assuming everyone else does too.

*Remember how we got diagnosed with The Mono? (Of course you do. It’s the post right below this one because that’s how much I’ve slacked in blogging these days.) Well, we successfully made it over the hump. Evie’s back to her usual self. She still seems to get tired a little quicker but all of the other symptoms have vanished.

*Unfortunately, Mike and I stayed in this odd realm of sorta-sick-but-not-really for like 2 weeks after The Mono, making Thanksgiving kind of a bust for both of us since we slept most of the time and didn’t have any sort of appetite for all the delicious food.

*December is trying to knock October off the list of being the busiest month in the year. I think it’s winning.

Can you tell I'm excited for Sunday?

I had to get Mom to take the duty of getting Evie to the birthday party because I’ll be in Cincinnati for something for my brother. Then we have Jason and Brooke’s Christmas party that night. (Mike’s party got shuffled off the list because of aforementioned “thing” for my brother which I’m not allowed to talk about yet.) Anyways, I’m excited for Sunday…

*Evie has to learn certain Bible verses for class and it’s maybe my most favorite thing ever hearing her recite the verses to me in the car. Kid’s got a crazy good memory.

*In other news, Evie is apparently anti-taco these days. She threw a kid’s taco in the lunch room the other day. When asked about the incident, her only response was “It was an accident, MOM.” Like that happens all the time. No big deal.

*I received a phone call from a parent whose child may or may not have been upset because someone else’s (read: mine) child told her she only had three more chances to be her friend. While taken a little off guard that I was phoned about such an incident, I carefully took into consideration the other kid’s parent’s feelings and said, “Well, it looks like your kid’s skating on thin ice for the next twelve years.”

(I’m kidding. That didn’t happen. Well, the thin ice thing. The rest of that story is true and you all should be very proud of me because I had a talk with Evie about the 3 strike rule and said it was not for friendship. Which, personally, I think it’s an excellent idea. Just maybe not executed so well in kindergarten…)

*Christmas parties are in full swing. We attended one last weekend. Here, let’s look at picture to take away from the terribleness of this nonsensical post:

How much do I love the Cross Process feature on Picnik? Answer: A lot.

*Mike has unsuccessfully tried to keep my main gifts a surprise this year. He blames it on us living together. I blame it on him not being able to keep a secret. However, despite me knowing exactly what he got me, he refuses to let me SEE the actual gift. Instead, he tortures me by telling me how awesome it is.

Unless you want to hear about my recent obsession with oatmeal and/or my sudden realization that I think I have an audio-sensory disorder, that’s all I’ve got for now.

Merry Christmas, kiddies!

True Story: When she was 11 months old, she got an ear infection… which managed to give her a fever… which then spiked up to some ungodly high degree and caused her to have a febrile seizure. Have any of you all ever experienced a febrile seizure? Witnessed one? Because let me just tell you, they’re scary as shit. Her little body got incredibly stiff, her eyes glazed over and wouldn’t focus on anything and then? Just stopped breathing and turning blue… It was all horrifying but thankfully, there was no lasting damage to my child or to the 911 operator’s eardrum from me screaming hysterically into the phone to SAVE MY BAYBAY.

Anyways, the point of all that? Evie doesn’t get sick very often but when she does she gets SO sick. That’s precisely why I wasn’t too alarmed when her runny nose turned into her being completely incapable of getting off the couch.

Except this time it just seemed… worse. She was so congested she couldn’t even blow her nose and sleeping at night was pretty much a nightmare for both her and me. I was terrified she wasn’t going to catch her breath and she was just miserable. More often than I like to remember did she wake up coughing so hard that she ended up throwing up all over either herself or me or the bed and once maybe even Russell…

After 48 hours of this, I decided that the doctors were being stingy with their antibiotics and I was going to go back and DEMAND that they give her some Amoxicillin. We saw my old pediatrician and he took one look at her throat and said, “Mono.”

MONO.

As in mononucleosis.

As in MISERY FOR THE NEXT FOUR TO SIX WEEKS.

He told me they’d have to take some blood and do a test, but he was almost positive that’s what she had.

But wait, have you all met me?

From the time that they drew Evie’s blood (which, you guys, the child barely even cried because she was so exhausted she literally couldn’t even muster up the energy to produce anything more than a pitiful whimper) until the doctor came back a good 15 minutes later, I had convinced myself that this wasn’t mono and instead we were about to be told that my child had 6 more hours to live because of some horrible virus that has only one other case ever documented.

It was just mono.

Like he said.

Turns out? Those guys they call doctors? They actually know what they’re doing most of the time. Who knew??

So for the next few weeks she’s stuck at home watching movies and eating popsicles (which doesn’t sound all that bad when I type it out…) I won’t be able to send her back to school until after Thanksgiving. Her teacher is giving me packets to work on with her so she doesn’t fall behind and my mom is keeping her overnight some nights during the weeks so that I can actually sleep through the night instead of laying in a terrified stupor ready to do CPR at a moment’s notice.

For now, she’s ok just laying on her sick bed, enjoying the fact that Mom’s letting her have popsicles for breakfast.

*Sigh… I’ll be glad when we’re over this hump.

*Michael and I took Evie to see Puss in Boots yesterday afternoon and while, yeah, Evie loved it, Mike and I weren’t all that impressed. We chalked it up to our high standards for cat humor and Puss just didn’t have it. There was plenty more they could have made fun of. Cats are hysterical. (If you disagree with this statement, I don’t think we can be friends… I’ve already got one friend (E-M-I-L-Y) who finds no humor in cats whatsoever and I just don’t have room in my heart for another!)

*Speaking of cat humor, this: Business Cat. It’s my new favorite things and I plan on answering all emails for here on out with one of those pictures. I believe there’s one for every occasion.

*The Breeder’s Cup was this past weekend. Mike had made several bets and one he told me, if it hit, we would win thousands and THOUSANDS of dollars. Obviously, this made me excited… So, an hour or so later, I asked him if that race had panned out and he casually said, “Yeah.” This is the part where I almost fell out of my chair in shock because, honey! We’re rich! Exhibit the appropriate level of excitement! Except then he nonchalantly mentioned, “Oh yeah, I looked at the numbers wrong. We won about fifty bucks.” Just a little detail he forgot to include… So for a full 30 seconds I thought we were really rich. It was a nice feeling.

*I made potato soup from scratch this weekend. It was delightful. You are jealous.

*I’m in that weird non-decorating season… It’s too early for Christmas but I don’t really have a ton of stuff for Thanksgiving. (I have an aversion to cornucopias… I just think they’re weird.) My door is bare and it feels so naked… I’m not ok with this.

*I picked up a new book from the library this past week that’s being touted as “the zombie version of Twilight.” Now, I realize that you’re probably all thinking, “Whitney! You hated Twilight! Why would you subject yourself to the zombie version of it?!” And to that I’ll answer, “I cannot resist zombies…” In fact, I’m betting that if the library pulls my records they’re going to be concerned that I’m possibly preparing for the zombie apocalypse. Seriously. My last 5 rentals have been zombie related.

That’s all I’ve got. Peace and zombie love for now, kids!