adventures in awkward

I feel overwhelmingly stressed lately. This has far surpassed the slight worry over what I’m going to make for dinner or the best way to organize my prized box of multicolored beanie babies that’s hidden away in a locked, temperature controlled storage room on the other side of town. They are worth so much money, they really do deserve the best treatment.  I’m deep into the realm of feeling like I’m trapped on the beach and someone is burying me alive under the weight of a thousand pounds of sand. I’m suffocating. The weird part is – nothing has really changed, so I don’t know why it has come on so suddenly. That’s likely the problem – I’m ready for a change that just hasn’t come yet.

So, today I’ve convinced my husband to finally go see Beauty and the Beast with me. And, you know what… I’m throwing caution to the wind. I’m going for the M&Ms. No, fuck it. I’m getting peanut M&Ms. I’m so tired of having to count/measure every single bite that goes into my damn mouth. Why can’t I just be naturally skinny like my siblings? I really got screwed on the gene pool. Being in a constant state of trying to lose weight and work out has me feeling like I’m tiptoeing into crazy town. Why can’t pizza, cupcakes, and a plate of good southern bbq be healthy and rabbit food be what’s killing us? Why, God, WHY? Why do this to us? The inhumanity. (Okay, I’m done with my hissy-fit. Nothing to see here. Carry on.)

The only thing that’s blatantly spiking my anxiety is my cats, so if you’re a cat lover/owner/trainer/whatever,  and you have any advice for a situation I’m in – it would be much appreciated. I don’t want to go deep into it on here, but it has to do with cats not getting along/stalking/litter box aggression. If you could message me on Twitter or email me at theshamefulsheep@yahoo.com I’ll love you forever and maybe even send you cookies. Or maybe I’ll just eat a cookie in your honor. That’s the same…right?

adventures in awkward

Random-As-Shit Thursday Thoughts

1. I’m going to be honest here – you guys scare me sometimes. Not the majority, but more so the people that land on my blog by random search terms. I don’t know why people are searching for ‘shameful awkward mom porn’ or ‘sheep boobs’ and landing on my page, but there is zero porn here. Zip. Nada. I’m pretty sure I’ve never even talked here about sex before. Is that what Google thinks of me? They lump me in with the porn sites so I’m attracting all the perverse freaks of the internet? Maybe I should give them what they want. I can start posting pictures of sheep boobs. Here you go, weirdos.

 

2. I keep seeing online that people are calling Lady Gaga ‘fat’ and saying she had a ‘pot belly’ during her halftime performance the other day. What the hell is wrong with people? I wish I could drag everyone who said this crap by their hair and smash their face into a vat of horse semen. (Okay, now I’m starting to understand why I get the porn lovers.)

If this is fat, then I must be the size of Hagrid when he’s nine months pregnant. 

3. I really don’t care if you hate that I swear or not. It drives me crazy that people purposely stalk my posts and go out of their way to tell me how bad of a person I am multiple times a week through comments because I throw a swear word or two into my writing. IT’S A WORD, PEOPLE. I’m not hurting anybody. It’s not like I’m going into public and telling kids to go fuck themselves and punching them in the face. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business if I was. I’m 30. Not 12. I don’t need lectures from people twice my age like they’re my mother. I’ve had to block TWO people this week from my site due to them doing this for nearly a year now. If the ban didn’t work – hopefully they will see this and kindly f u c k o f f. (End rant.)

adventures in awkward

to the skinny bitch at Starbucks

I was six the first time someone called me fat. I was sporting my favorite Rainbow Bright swimsuit with a frilly top at the local pool, casually working on my Thriller moves, and waiting in line for my turn to dive (or spastically belly-flop) off the diving board. I was crushed. Until my older sister stepped up, pointed at the kid and said, “well… your nose is so big it looks like you have a deformed penis growing out of your stupid face!” God bless her. Where would we be without siblings?

(Check out this real-life penis nose. Poor guy.)

I’m sad to admit – I am the ugly duckling of my family. The odd one out. The spare. My sister and brother were born with skinny genes and have an innate love for physical fitness. They wake up every day at 5 am, hit the gym, down their disgusting spinach smoothies and egg whites, then go about their day at work. In Blair’s world – it’s a struggle. I was not graced with a good metabolism or the love of getting super sweaty and peeling my smelly clothes off every day. When I wake up, it’s to visions of strawberry-frosted donuts holding hands and wading through a pool of chocolate and licking whipped cream off each other. It takes every ounce of my being to get those thoughts out of my head. Every. Morning.

After decades, my doctors finally gave me some answers  and we found a ‘way of eating’ that would agree with my body. Sadly, it has to be alcohol-free, caffeine-free, low-carb and sugar-free. So when I step up to your counter and ask for a decaf coffee with sugar-free peppermint, sugar-free vanilla, and two Splendas, I don’t need your eye-roll. I don’t need the sigh of exasperation, or the side glance to your coworker. I don’t drink this overpriced crap because I want to. I’m not trying to be a difficult because it’s fun.

I have no choice, Skinny Bitch. I hope one day you’re forced to only eat salad for two meals every day.

(Yes, I know skinny people have medical issues too.)

rambles, things that matter

There are very few things in life that make me angry enough to want to rip somebody’s face off and wear it as a diaper. Very few. Actually, I pride myself in knowing how to take a joke and rarely being offended by things. Well, yesterday I had one of those moments where a face-diaper almost became a real thing, generously coupled with a swift kick to the balls. (I was in a giving mood… what can I say?)

Guys… telling a woman she shouldn’t wear yoga pants in public because she’s overweight is something that should never happen. Especially when you follow it up with the fact that it’s nothing to do with how it makes her feel, but she shouldn’t wear them because it’s hurting YOUR eyes. I don’t care if you meant it as a joke or not. You’re a prick and fuck you. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with people? What’s happening to common sense and manners?

bodies

I truly hope I never overhear something like this again. If I do, there’s a 95% chance I’m going to take a crap on your face. Watch out you sad little shit.

Do you find this joke inappropriate or am I the only one? If you overheard a comment like this would you say something? It really bothered me, but it’s highly possible I’m a bit crazy.