Unborn babies dislike wine. ( reason 342 I'm going to hell)

There are plenty of things in this world that I don't understand. The fascination that the teenage population has with kinky vampires, intolerance for people who think and love in a way that classifies them as minorities, and silly putty all fall into the category of things that I can't quite seem to "get".

I also don't quite understand this sign. 

Well I understand the sign. I majored in English in college and I can read pretty well , but I don't understand why it was mounted to the front door on the fancy-shmancy hotel that I stayed at in San Francisco last week. The hotel didn't even have bar inside. It was just on the front door next to the sign that said that pets were not allowed and that they accept all major credit cards. 

 Although I don't think that I can argue with science that alcohol doesn't do any favors to unborn babies, the placement seems odd to me. I am equally confused as to why this hotel had no bar. 

Any insight would be both accepted and encouraged. 

Sincerely, 

confused and thirsty

How I lost over 200 Pounds in 30 seconds

There is a woman in New York City who thinks she saw me on television.

A little over a year ago, I was in NYC for work and I had some time to explore in the city.  As I was walking through Times Square, I noticed a large display of stairs and ramps well equipped withpeople in matching blue tshirts trying to recruit pedestrians into joining their “ Be Healthy and Eat your Carrots…Just say no to cheetoes- Walkathon”. I tried to walk away.

And then I saw that they were giving away tshirts and granola bars.

Anyday of the week, I will gladly sell my soul for a tshirt. I will throw in my sister’s soul if you also give me a granola bar. Everyone loves giveaways.

Anyways, I got sucked in. I was  having a grand time walking up and down the walkathon steps, occasionally fist pumping the air in the spirit of health and general awesomeness.

As I was about to leave and continue my journey to find lunch, I saw a booth with 4 men standing behind it. There was a line forming next to them, and I figured that I should check it out before going on my merry way. Apon closer inspection, I realize that the men were past champions of NBC’s The Biggest Loser show. You could get their autograph and have your picture taken with them!

I have never actually watched the show,  but it seemed like a shame not to meet them while I was there. I had walked the staircase for a solid 8 minutes, I had clearly earned an autograph.

When it was my turn, I went behind the booth with the men, so that the NBC elfs could take my picture and I could collect my autographs. Just as I was about to leave, a middle aged woman stands in front of the booth and starts taking our pictures! At first, I tried to get out of the picture, but I was trapped. The woman then approached the booth,  and asked the man next to me for an autograph.

Then she looked directly at me and said: “ WOW! You look Great!”

At first I was flattered. No woman can ever hear how amazing they look too many times. I may have even flipped my hair.

And then I realized that she thought I looked amazing because she thought that at one time I used to weigh over 400 pounds….

Before  I knew it, the woman had pushed her autograph sheet infront of me and handed me a pen.

“ Just sign it”- the biggest loser next to me whispered in my ear.

“ Nice to meet you, Nancy! –Erin” I scribbled onto her sheet.

If I remember correctly, I left that walkathon and went directly to the closest bakery and had a huge cupcake for lunch.

Tom Cruise wearing a Beauty and the Beast dress and meowing like a cat

In Elementary school I got my tongue frozen to the school bus window on the same day that the janitor put a pile of kitty litter under my desk because I had peed in my Beauty and the Beast dress- twice.

Without a doubt, there were parts of grade school that I could have lived without.  Although it sucked that the boys meowed at me like a cat for the rest of the year; overall those first few years of my education were awesome.

The part of elementary school that I loved was that you could say whatever you wanted and if your statement was not taken well, you could fix it quickly by blurting out “ NOT!”, “Phsych!”, or “It’s opposite day!”

An example:

Erin: Hi! Want to be my valentine? I spent 2 hours cutting out construction paper hearts to make you this very sparkly card! Don’t mind the grease stain, I was eating chips.

 

Kyle: No. You peed your pants. Meow

Erin: Yeah- good thing its opposite date. You are gross…… sigh.

I wish that opposite day was a real thing.

More specifically, I wish that opposite day was a real thing and that it was today.  Opposite day is fantastic because everything that happens didn’t, and everything that didn’t happen did. For example:

My flight this afternoon was delayed because someone punched a flight attendant. If it were opposite day, they would not have happened and the flight attendant would have all of her teeth.

(on a side note, I can completely understand why flight attendents may want to punch guest, but I can think of no reason to assault the lady that brings the ginger ale and peanuts)

If it were opposite day, I would have not gotten stuck in traffic and paid $83 for a taxi ride. Maybe I would have paid $38 dollars instead.  Or maybe I would have found $83 on the street or hotel bible.

If it were opposite day, I would not have dropped my suitcase on my big toe or hit my head with the taxi door.

If it were opposite day, I would have had time for breakfast, I would have chosen the eggs, I think.

If it were opposite day, I would have met someone famous in Los Angeles, while in town for work.

If It were opposite day,  I would not have to work.

If it were opposite day, I would not have to be embarrassed about watching 3 episodes of Dawson’s creek in a row. I also would not have gone expensive google research about Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes and their scientology ways of divorce.

I think that if it were opposite day, I would have paused the opposite powers when the house clean lady gave me 14 pieces of chocolate instead of the standard two.

Maybe next year..

Last May, in a post titled May the New year bring me tiger woods and frightened mailmen I made a list of new years resolutions that I was hoping to complete before May of 2012  As announced earlier this week, I have been a horrible and neglectful mother for the last few months and unfortunately I forgot about this list of goals along with the blog.

Although it would be a complete lie to tell you that I completed all or even half of my mentioned goals, I can cross off a few of them.

1.) have some type of correspondence with a famous person. "Fame" will be defined at my digression. If Barack Obama and Tiger Woods are unavailable, I will settle for a smaller scale celebrity such as the owner of Rivermont Pizza Company or Bolton Valley Ski Resort's Instructor of the Year, who happens to be my own father.

I have already blogged about my encounter with a celebrity and you can find the full story here. For those of you who are too lazy to read the entire post, here are the highlights:

1.     I met Dustin Diamond/ Screech Powers

2.     He complimented my boobs

3.     All of my childhood dreams came true

4.     Everyone lived happy ever after.

8.) Scare the living day lights out of the mailman. My new house has one of those old school slots in the door so that the mailman can push my birthday cards from grammie and Netflix DVDs onto the welcome rug in my entry way. One of these days I am going to be waiting by the door so that as the mailman slips my water bill through the slot, I will grab it from his hands and maybe make some sort of growling noise, not unlike a wolf with rabies.

I have failed miserably at this goal, but mostly because my morals got in the way. I think that instead of scaring the mailman, I would like to be his friend.  I have decided that it isn’t very nice to scare people when they are just trying to do their jobs, but maybe if I write him/her a little note, I can have a penpal. That was always fun in gradeschool.

In other news, a few months ago I accidently dropped my house keys through that mail slot in the middle of the night. Needless to say, I will not be nominated for roommate of the year.

I will give updates of some of the other life goals later, but the hotel I am staying in just delivered some fruit and chocolate to my room and I have some fat kid habits to fulfill. 

If only my mom had let me eat pop tarts for dinner..

I am a horrible mother. A year ago, this blog was my baby. My pride and joy. In fact, there was a time when I had stepped over the line of being a writer that casually blogged for fun and into the zone of obsession. I was no longer blogging about awkward accuracies that naturally found their way into my into my life, and instead I was intentionally creating awkwardness and putting myself in absurd situations for the sake of having something “freakshowlike” to write about.

 I was exactly like the  parents that I hate working with through the college admissions process. I was obsessed, overbearing, and probably the type that would put a “my kid is an honor student at blah blah blah middle school” on the back of my SUV.

And then everything changed. I quickly changed from being what we call in college admissions, a helicopter parent and I transformed into the type of mom that serves pop-tarts for dinner.  It wasn’t that I stopped enjoy the blog, or that my life was no longer interesting, I simply just forgot about it. This may be why I have never in my adult life had a pet that requires more attention then a loving and caring rock.

I am not here to make any excuses.

That’s a lie. That is exactly why I am here.

The following list will serve a few purposes all at once. It will give you an update of my life in the last few selfish, non-writing months and with any luck it will also leaving thinking “ I was so sad that that I could not read this blog everyday, but I am so happy that she is back! I will read it everyday and tell all of my friends. And my grandma too!”

Excuse #1: I started graduate school last spring. Although I definitely dropped off the blogging planet long before classes started, this at least offers an excuse for January-July.  I am working on my Masters in School Counseling so I have had less time to write about bald men and airplanes and my time has been dedicated to creating plans to improve the self esteem of teenagers and writing papers about hugs and feelings.

Excuse #2- I have been working really hard to make myself feel healthy.  As much as I enjoy running, bootcamp classes and hot yoga, when I get home, I am so gosh darn tired! There was one day a few weeks ago that I had full intensions of blogging, but my arms were literally too sore to reach the keyboard. It was like I was a T-rex or some other animal with very short stiff arms. Sad.

In my head I thought that I had a lot more then 2 excuses. I could add more for the sake of having a solid five, but they would probably include excuses like “ I had a papercut last week” and “I couldn’t blog in December because I was too excited for santa to come”.  No need for bullshit, I will stick to the legitimate two.

Hopefully this isn’t a fluke, and I will get back into the writing swing!