As in, yes it's really sweet that Seth drives to the Cousins Center at lunch and you go to McDonald's and order matching number ones and then drive to the airport observation lot and watch the planes, while toasting french fries and Mello Yellos but HELLO! Your jeans do not fit.
Who knew that a high maintenance girl like me (my mother's words, not mine) would consider Mickey D's romantic?
A bottle of wine polished off at Jazz in the Park. Calamari and pastas drowned in cheese at an Italian bistro. Tequila sunrises at the Safe House. Omelettes drowned in even more cheese the morning after.
It's a wonder that my arteries haven't gone on strike all together.
While Seth's departure tomorrow to Tennessee (hand me the Kleenex please) to take care of a few things before a permanent move north may indicate the obvious end to celebrations, it announces the return of an even bigger and badder reason for my return to Jimmy John's for a #16.
Let's eat our feelings to get over the hump day.
I'm sure Oprah has something to say about that.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. One way to minimize your risk, according to the American Cancer Society, is to exercise regularly and maintain a healthy body weight, two categories that my doctor would give me a bit fat FAIL on today.
In memory of my aunt Shirley, who died in 2002 from the disease, and all those in my life touched by breast cancer, I pledge to put down the Big Macs and pick up the carrot sticks, give up the evening glass of wine for a walk by the lake, all through the month of October. While I can't drop my goal of 30 pounds in the month, I can sure start off with a good sprint on the road to healthiness.
My method of attack? The Body By Glamour program. It's free and offers lots of tips, including a food and exercise diary. And of course I'll have y'all, who supported me so wonderfully when some creep was trying to persuade me to meet him at the Best Western.
Say it with me---- ewwww.
Feel free to join me to commemorate your loved ones affected by breast cancer, or just cheer me on. While I'm not brave enough to put the terrifying 3-digit number that signifies my current weight on the blog, I'll be more than happy to keep you posted with the - and the + as I go along. And of course daily updates about how many Hail Marys I've had to say to keep me out of the trail mix.
Send me snarky emails when I blog about cheating and grabbing a venti Frappuccino after work (a good kick in the pants never hurt anyone). Send me tasty recipes for all those green things that grow in the ground. Put some sort of magical device in my Honda that'll keep me from driving to fish fries.
But whatever you do, don't stock my freezer with mini Milky Ways.
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