Less Than Two Years to 30. Update On List

So tonight, lambwhores and goatsluts, I am going to go over my 30/30 list to show you the progress I've made and what my plans are.

So here it is:
1. Go kayaking- DONE
2. Go parachuting
3. Go on a sailboat ride
4. Write a book-- in progress
5. Take the kids to Disney World-- DONE
6. Try snorkeling again- try not to drown
7. Learn how to play one song on a piano
8. Take a road trip with friends
9. Go to Las Vegas
10. Run a 5K-- I'm training. Kind of.
11. Learn how to knit something- working on it
12. Attend my 10 year High School reunion - scheduled for August 2010
13. See 10 concerts before I’m 30-- I'm down three (Kings of Leon, Paramore, and Muse)
14. Go on a helicopter ride
15. Dye my hair
16. Trip to another country (Canada counts)
17. Lose at least 15 pounds- working on it.
18. Go camping. Outside. In a tent.
19. Visit the Grand Canyon
20. Wear a bikini (preferably after losing the weight)
21. Read 200 books before I’m 30 (this was revised once I realized it's impossible for me to read 8 books a week every week until I'm 30)
22. Create a family tree book for the kids- working on it.
23. See the Northern Lights
24. Go tubing and/or canoeing
25. Take kids to the Wisconsin Dells--tentatively scheduled for summer 2010
26. Hike through the sea caves in the winter
27. Road trip weekend with Matt to anywhere- DONE
28. See a waterfall I’ve never seen before
29. Try skiing
30. Be happy

Now as I look at this, I feel I've done pretty good. I have some plans in the works (which means in my head) for a few others, and a few are going to happen for sure this year. 2010 is going to be a pretty damn big year for me.

- going to Tennessee in May to see my cousin Rhonda graduate high school.
- am working myself up to parachute/skydive in June. We have a place in Superior that does it and in all the years I've lived here I've only heard of one accident. And that guy died after splattering all over the trailer court by Walmart. Which was gross. Imagine living in your trailer, watching Judge Judy and BANG! guts all over your porch. Ugh. If I die I hope to god it's in the field and not the trailer court. Or even Tower Avenue. I'd take that over the trailer court or the Walmart parking lot.
- going to Chicago (AGAIN!!!) in July to see Kings of Leon (AGAIN!!!) with Jennie (AGAIN!!!) and my new friend Kelly who I met through Jennie. It's going to be EPIC. Please believe the three of us girls are going to fun and rowdy. I'll definitely come back with some pretty kick ass stories and pictures.
- my mom is trying to go to Florida this year, so I'm secretly hoping it's July or August so Matt and I can take the kids somewhere in the Wisconsin Dells the same time she's gone.
- sometime this summer I'm going to try camping. I've been camping once when I was way little and it wasn't an enjoyable experience for me at all. And by camping- I mean in a tent, no air mattress, and eating hot dogs (DISGUSTING) on a stick. None of this air mattress and/or RV shit. (Don't get me wrong- I love RV's. I want to own one someday if only to make my hubs drive it around and I can get away with a viser on my head and a fanny pack full of maps. I'm going to be the epitomy of "old lady")

So right now- these are the plans that are in the works. Next year I am going to make my girlfriends come with me to Vegas. We are going to hit it up big and I am going to get some deets worked out way in advance and put it all out there for you peeps. That's right- it's going to be a "Come Party With Sara and Possibly Embarrass Yourself For Her Blog" gathering. Aw yeah. ;)

But here's where you come in. Do you know of good places to see/do the following because I need ideas:
1. Waterfalls. I need a really awesome one.
2. Road trip in America. I'd be doing this with friends and I'm looking for a fun destination with stupid/hilarious things along the way.

This bitch is 300. My house has turned into a brothel.

Yay! This blog is *officially* 300 posts old. Can you believe it? (Side note, I also have exactly 200 followers. I just LOVE even numbers)

*golf clap and leg pumps, yall*

But it's time to get serious. Because things have gotten serious up in my house. For lots of different reasons, but today we are going to focus on my cats. You remember Lenny and Rosie, don't you? Of course you do. It's hard to forget when Lenny is gay and Rosie was feral and we are in the process of taming her.

I think we are absolute idiots too and I have no idea why we have either of them. But I'm partial to Lenny because he is pure entertainment. I mean, he'll hump you while you wear a knitted sweater. He will bite your butt when you walk in. I mean, he's all kinds of fun. But Rosie is psychotic and there is no way around that. That cat clearly has some mental health issues that I have no interest in treating with horribly expensive medication. I can't even afford to get her girly parts fixed which is part of my problem.

Let's talk about Lenny and his sexual needs first, ok? Well Lenny was neutered. We spent a LOT of money on that visit because Lenny got neutered and had one of his nails removed on one of his front paws because it never retracted. Poor guy got it stuck on EVERYTHING. But his front paws has an extra toe on each but his disfigurement is adorable. He looks like he has mittens on. But since we got him neutered he's done weird things.

First, he humps anything and everything. Stuffed animals, blankets, you, your clothes, the babies, etc. Nothing is exempt from his humping. He is seriously worse than any dog I have every owned. Jackson will go to Lenny shouting "NO!" and try to rescue the blanket. Olivia will sometimes cry or say, "MOM!!! Lenny's liking me again". Sorry.

This weekend things have escalated. He is no longer interesting in the multitude of things we have on the first floor. No. He dragged this blanket off of Olivia's bed, which is on the 2nd floor. You better believe he humped it all the way too. This is not how I envisioned teaching my kids about sexual reproduction.
At the very least I expected to have bananas, condoms, and enough pamphlets to scare the shit out of them. But now that Lenny carries large blankets around and straddles them making a horribly disgusting noise, Olivia is asking questions. And frankly? I have no idea what to say.

So we had this conversation:

Me: You remember in the Princess and the Frog when Ray the lightbug really loved Evangeline because he thought she was a lightbug too but she was really only a star?

Olivia: Yeah.

Me: Well this is the same thing. Lenny thinks these things are boy kitties. Your blanket is Lenny's true love.

Olivia: But he has Rosie. She likes boys.

Me: Well...um... Lenny doesn't really like girls. He likes boys. It's hard to explain.

Olivia: It's yucky.

Me: It's not yucky. He loves your blankie.

So hi- can you tell I'm not ready to deal with this? Yeah. It's not good. But yesterday...things really stepped up a notch. Rosie...is in heat.

Now I have NEVER in all of my life had a female cat. I've heard of this, but have never had to deal with it. We are on day two of her really loud weird purring and I'm about ready to stick a pen up her ass to see if that gets her to shut up.

THIS is the torture they should be using in Guantanamo Bay. THIS is going to turn me into an alcholic. Or a pill popper. SOMETHING.

And Rosie, going with her instincts, is slutting it up to Lenny. She's shaking her ass in his face. She sat on his face. She's licking his ass. She's practically throwing herself at him. I mean, as a woman, these are all fine things to do. But Lenny's gay. No amount of cleavage or ass shaking is going to change this.

I asked Matt how badly we needed lights and water because I'm willing to not pay the utilities this month to get her spaded or whatever. Things are that bad. I mean I just cannot take any more of this. It's so loud. And again, as a woman who also is in heat and getting none, I can sympathize with her plight.

Which is why they should make kitty vibrators. I'm sure I could make Matt help the cat out a bit. The cats he grew up with were all whores and he tells me this could last two months. TWO.FUCKING.MONTHS.PEOPLE. No good.

So basically, between Lenny humping his blanket, Rosie whoring it up in the windows hoping for a stray cat with a penis (is it called penis on cats, too??) breaks into our house, and me going through batteries like it's nobody's business---this is basically looking like a brothel.

A Winner, Two More Chances, Panties, and Terrible Two's

So let's not wait any longer to announce the winner of Jamie's FABULOUS artwork. If you have been living under a rock for the last week....well you suck. The winner is...

.... BEVERLY!!! Girl- that's awesome! OK so you left me your email address so I will pass it onto Jamie this evening- so watch for that.

But for the rest of you losers...you can still be a winner! That's right. Don't forget Jamie has ANOTHER giveaway happening over at her blog so hustle bitches. And then, my girl Krysten is having a giveaway as well. Krysten is rad, lives not too terribly far from me and we WILL MEET before she gets all sassy and moves to Florida. But no worries....because her and I going to get rich, she's going to buy Scott Storch's mansion and then I'm going to move in. It's going to be fab.

Now, for those of you who haven't been to Insatiable Host's blog (which is hilarious) you may not know about the Panty Pyramid she's started. Basically you go to the Panty Pyramid blog, let her know you want to join. She'll get your deets (panty size, address, preferences, etc) and enter you. Then when she does her next shipment out, you will get a pair of panties in the mail. THEN, you email her to let her know you got them and she gives you the deets on other chicks- and you mail panties. Get it? Yes. So let the fun begin! I got my FIRST pair in the mail today:

So I took a picture of them to showcase my plans for the evening. Yes- I've got my chocolate, my Pepsi, my Pier 1 candle that smells like strawberry kool aid, my chapstick, and my iPod. Appropriately on Cobra Starship's "Hot Mess". But aren't they cute?? They are sheer and I am in love with the bow.

But earlier today I've been dealing with my just about two year old, Jackson. I love Jackson dearly and without going into too much detail on the blog- Jackson and I share a special blog. There is a reason I got pregnant with him at probably one of the worst times in my life. He was what I clung to and I can't even tell you how happy this little boy makes me. But my little man is turning two and hitting the terrible two's. But I firmly believe three is a horrid year and two is nothing. Which scares the shit out me because Mr. Man is showing some really interesting behavior.

Today, he couldn't get two of his lego's to snap together. He got frustrated. So I'm like, "I feel you baby...let's fix it together" and I get a "NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and he promptly runs into a corner shouting "no". Um...ok. Fuck the lego's then. So I did what any parent such as myself would do.

I grabbed my camera.

and got a few snapshots of him in fine form. I mean my little man had real tears. :( Plus he has a cold so I'm sure that's contributing to his crankiness but really. How does your heart not melt when you see this face?

Tomorrow is actually his birthday party since his birthday falls on Easter this year. I have gotten about half of the prep done tonight and have a little bit more to do. Then tomorrow his party is at four. But do you think I get a break? Um...no.

I have to clean the house before the party (party is not at my house) because I won't have time to do my normal Saturday cleaning routine later. Then the kids are going to see the Easter Bunny, I have to hit the post office, pay bills, pick up cake, pick up balloons, return a book to the library, eat lunch, and load my van with party junk. All by noon. YAY. Then Jackson goes in for his nap at one so he is happy and ready for his party, get the kids ready for the party and then be over there shortly after three to get food out and ready.

It's times like this that make me wish I had a cape.

ps) tomorrow's post? Will be my 300th post. Scary.

Last Chance at Giveaway- and How To Scare Children

Seriously lambwhores/goatsluts- today is the absolute LAST day (if you don't include a few hours tomorrow...) that you can enter in a RAD ASS contest. Go HERE to enter. Don't be a bitch- just enter. If you don't enter you are going to be entered onto a hitlist. Of sorts.

Anyways!

For those who don't know me in real life you have no idea of what a super fun and awesome mommy I am. One of the perks to being a young mom is that I have the energy it takes to take two toddlers out in public. And you know what I mean. When you see some moms that are like in their late 30's/early 40's running around with toddlers who are throwing gang signs and trashing store aisles you think, "Fuck sakes lady. Control your animals." OR you get people like Octomom who's vagina is like the gateway to Land of Oz and a never ending supply of oompa loompa children.

But me, I'm a young mom. I had Olivia when I was 23 and although sometimes I think I fucked up by having kids so young, I get super duper fun evenings like this.

So being a super young, fun, and awesome mom I decided I was going to take my kids to a movie. Now, Olivia has already been to a theatre (we saw Horton Hears A Who! and The Princess and the Frog) but Jackson had never been. And I thought- a regular uncool mom would just take her kids to a regular ole movie. But I am full of awesome so I'm going to take my kids to an IMAX movie. Aw yeah.

Now, being a parent who rarely uses discretion, I had a brillant moment when I thought maybe the Dinosaurs! movie would be a bit too scary. I mean Jackson thinks he is a dinosaur but I was also realistic enough to know that I'd like to get some fucking sleep that night. So I settled on Deep Sea which was narrated by Johnny Depp and Kate Winslet. Whom I love. It had pretty fishes on the poster and both kids were excited. Except Olivia really thought we got to touch fish.

Olivia and me about to go into the theatre

We got in and bought our tickets which were $5 for three of us, Jackson was free because they offer specials on the weekends for families. SCORE. But we got there early anticipating more people than us four and the 6 others in line. But to kill time the kids got to watch the guys switch the reels.

Once we got in, Olivia was immediately terrified. Because if you've never been in an IMAX theatre it's a bit intimidating. So we position ourselves half way up so we weren't breaking our necks and we were close to an exit. Jackson though the seats were rad since he got to be all big boy without the booster. Because they had no booster. Which was a problem because this boy needs to be strapped in.

As soon as the movie started, both kids started screaming. I am not even lying. They screamed and Olivia jumped into my lap, Jackson into's Matt's. Both kids are apparently terrified of loud voices (which upon closer inspection we were right NEXT to the speaker) and fish. Now, I would never have guess that my kids would think ocean water and fish were terrifying.

When the octopus and the squid came on? Both kids LOST.THEIR.SHIT. Screaming, clinging to us, crying, faces and eyes covered. So far this isn't going well. Now a normal parent would just leave. But fucks sakes- I just spent $15 on tickets, $12 on TWO ice cream cones, not to mention the water that would have been cheaper to scoop from the god damn lake and distill myself. So our asses were staying.

After the horrors of the squid eating a large fish and an octopus eating a jellyfish, Johnny Depp starts telling us that squid will even eat people. Which set Olivia over the edge. She started telling me she is never swimming ever again. Which she's never swam so you know- this is a problem. When the crab is eaten by another animal, screaming. Olivia cried and Jackson said "oh well" (which was a new phrase for him that week).

The movie was just under an hour. When the lights came on I think the other 6 people were just as pissed that their money was wasted. But Jackson, bless his heart, clapped and blew kisses at the blank screen. Meanwhile Olivia told me she never wanted to see fish again. I liked it. But I like water, ocean, all involved with that since I am a Florida girl AND a pisces. I'm convinced I was a dolphin in my previous life or something.

So here are the kids afterwards. They looked pretty happy but this was because I told them they were late for bedtime. They both fell asleep in the car because they both take after me and require a lot of sleep. They like their sleep. So 7pm has been their bedtime since birth. But they both woke up screaming that night. Olivia won't let me read her book about ocean animals because she tells me they will eat her. Jackson no longer like to play with his toy fish in the tub.

In the end, it was fun for us. We really don't get to do much as a family what with Matt's dislike for places with people (total opposite of me) and how he gets crabby almost instantly. But the kids like going to new places and are really well behaved 99% of the time. Which I know I am incredibly lucky for.

Thank god we didn't see the Dinosaur movie.

Taking Over The World With Jamie, and My New Bitch, Robert

I am going to warn you right off that this post is full of awesome and win. Well, potential win.


First off I'm going to continuing beating the dead horse that is not-really-my giveaway that is ending on Friday. And you need to enter it otherwise I will make fun of you and possibly not be your friend. Ok, that's not true but I'll make you sit in the pasture for reject lambwhores and goatsluts. Nobody wants to be THAT kind of loser. So you need to go HERE to enter. Do it now or be banished.


And if that wasn't enough for you to love Jamie...bitches she is having a giveaway on her own blog. Fabulousness. Now, please know I've already entered. And I'm not above cheating. But go to her blog HERE and show some love anyways. Enter her giveaway over there where you have a chance to win one of TWO prizes. Do you need to relax? She's willing to help. (And yes, I have already mentioned that she's not offering "male services" but I'm confident the next relax giveaway will have that.)

Now some of you who are LUCKY enough to have my real life phone number got a text from me about two weeks ago in regards to what Matt got me for my birthday. Because obviously my birthday came and went with no gift. So I figured well- no big. That just means I don't have to get him anything for his 30th in August- score. But like with every other thing he sucks ASS as keeping a secret. He cannot keep one detail in his mouth. Nope- he has to tell somebody. And when I say NOTHING is sacred I am so serious. Believe that.

He had asked if he could spend $35 on Amazon for my birthday. So I'm like, "obviously this is an approved expense" which clearly it is. So I'm thinking, YES! I'm getting a super duper rad iPod holder for when I'm getting my fuckmill on. Or YES! He's getting me the Jimi Hendrix box set I wanted. Or YES! He's getting me a super fabulous purse, shoes, jewelry, etc.

No.

You want to know what I got?

A six foot cardboard cut out of Robert Pattinson. Now you all know I love me some Robert. (See HERE, HERE, and HERE as a few examples) My love for Robert is only slightly attributed to the Twilight series. I liked the Twilight series (Eclipse was my favorite of the series- can you even GUESS how excited I am to see partially nude Robert in that?!) but my love for Robert goes back to his Harry Potter days. I really want to see his movie Little Ashes a biopic of sorts of Salvadore Dali which is only one of my favorite artists of all time (and I am so pissed that everytime I go to Florida I never get to see the museum. GRRR) But his other movie, How To Be is fucking hilarious. And I saw Remember Me, so great for lots of different reasons. But anyways.

So I now own this. I have really nowhere else to put it except next to my side of the bed. Which I will be honest, scares the SHIT out of me every night, every morning, and basically every time I walk into my room. I mean, we've talked about my fear of the dark and being kidnapped/murdered, etc and this? Does not help. Seriously.

His rationalization for getting me this as a gift were two-fold. The first was that I loved Robert so much and you know- I said I wanted this. Yeah- I mean that as a fucking joke. In no way would I condone spending $35 on cardboard. And it's ironic because this is the guy who wouldn't pay for moving boxes. And second- when I said "Where am I supposed to put this?" His response? "Well I thought you could put it in front of the treadmill. You know, for motivation."

OH. NO. HE. DIDN'T.

No- you did not just say that asshole. I could have come back with a MILLION things as a retort, but I didn't. Nope. I kept my mouth shut. Paybacks are always ten fold and I just know there will be a time where this will come back to bite him.

But in the meantime, I asked two of my faithful followers what I should do. Now my super awesome follower, Chicken, said that I should somehow attach a vibrator to it. Clever, Chicken. Clever.

Was it a nice effort? Sure. Could he actually have gotten me one of the 3,821 things I actually asked for? Yup.

But at least I won't feel bad when I go on an iTunes frenzy this evening.

I've Been Tagged. Repeatedly.

Giveaway. Sign up or die.

Alright folks. So I have been literally tagged a bunch of times. For lots of different things. Most of which I have forgotten because my funky notebook is either lost or someone stole it. I'm going to say it was stolen because it was SUPER cute and handmade and yeah. Bummer.

So the most recent one was Rebel Mel's challenge about posting what is in your purse. Now those of you who are familiar with these here parts may remember that I recently did this. Post purse pics, that is. Of course you do. Because that was the same post that we talked about vasectomies. Really- how could your forget?

I can't do the same thing TWICE so what I"m going to post is my concert purse. I will tell you I have upgraded and I hate this purse. But I'm on the search for a rad ass black CANVAS purse. "Why canvas, Sara?" So I can put my flair up on there lambwhores and goatsluts!

So that's my concert purse. It holds a lot and the strap is long enough to wear it across my chest. I collect buttons and I'm sad that a bunch of them just fall off. But my "Just say no" and my "word to yo mother" ones are rusted. So they go nowhere. :) But literally- my concert purses are for concerts only. If you are at concert and wonder if I'm there- look for the purse.

I was also tagged from Spirit Phoenix to do the photo tag thing. But I already did that too. So instead of doing the same post TWICE (again) I'm going to share pictures of me. In my younger toddler years. Be warned- I was damn fucking adorable. (And I've shared others here and here but what the hell- here are more.)

Me, I think I am about 3 here. Aren't I fucking cute?? I remember this outfit vividly. I thought I was a sailor, and it zipped all the way up the front. It was the first and only time I have ever gotten skin stuck in a zipper. So everytime I am putting my kids' outfits on I'm always saying "suck it in!!" because zipping up belly skin is ouchy.

OK- this is my brother's first birthday party and so I had to be 2ish. I have LOTS of memories of that huge white chair. First off, it was like plastic/vinyl or something because in Florida it was so hot and I remember getting stuck. I remember sitting in the chair with my brother and we were always dropping Cherrios in the sides. Behind us is our bird cage. Those birds died in the fire I think. I am holding my BELOVED Furfy. She was a smurfette and I still have her. She still stinks. But she's full of awesome. I used to twirl her hair in my palm to fall asleep. And we always had matching pigtails.

Yay!! So there is a little piece of history of your lambwhore/goatslut leader. Tomorrow I'm going to post about almost having six heart attacks in one night, cardboard, and Robert.

But to end this- here's a random question for ya.

If you had to name the least erotic part of the human body, what would it be? Armpits. Definitely armpits. They are so gross.

Giveaway, Ghetto Chicken, Alice, Remember Me, yadda yadda yadda

So don't forget- giveaway happening, bitches. I'm serious- I want all of your asses entering into this thing. I am going to be RELENTLESS until you do.


Yesterday I posted about my menu for the week and because I am unfortunately suck ass with emailing everybody back in a timely manner and since multiple lambwhores wanted to know my recipes- I'm posting them here. They are all super easy and if you can read you can cook these. I mean, it's really hard to fuck them up.


Ghetto Chicken One Dish

Chicken- cube it up, cook it.

One package (or more if you're a pig) of the Knorr Pasta Sides. I use the Cheddar & Broccoli because it doesn't taste like shit.

So cook the pasta- add chicken. Done. Yummy.

So I have seen a couple of movies that I've seen that hi- have not told you about. So I saw Alice in Wonderland with my sis in law, Kate. First off, I love Kate. Kate rocks my world. No matter what happens between Matt and I, I hope Kate and I still get to hang out. Because she is so fun and cool. And I'm stupid and silly- see me rocking my 3D glasses?? I am awesome. Anyways- so we saw it in 3D and then this weekend in 2D. Still awesome. We love Johnny Depp. We love Tim Burton. We like to make fun of those around us. It's a win all around.

I saw the Robert Pattinson movie Remember Me with Tammy like last weekend or something. Now I will tell you that if you don't like Robert Pattinson (fucking freak) and don't really *do* romance you can still see this movie. The romance is a really small part of the movie. I cried. I read all of the spoilers, as I do with every movie that I suspect will make me cry, and I still cried. I almost puked at the beginning, I cried during the bully scene, I cried at the end. I cried afterwards when I really thought about it. It was really a fantastic movie because they had all of these characters, all struggling with death and loss in very different ways. But they are all connected in different ways and the way it all comes together is really beautiful. And sad. It isn't fair. But in the end it's about forgiving those who maybe took an easy way out, that don't live up to your expections, to accept people for who and what they are. To know that everything happens for a reason. And maybe you'll be lucky enough to find out why.

So see it. It's a good movie. PLUS some scenes between Robert and Emilie de Ravin are hot. She's hot. :)

Food. It's What's For Dinner.

OK so before we get into my menu for the week and how I plan to not starve my family, let's take a minute so I can remind you of the most awesomest, spectacular giveaway! I should also remind you that if you like Jamie's work- buy it! Because you don't want her new puppy to starve, right? I totally advocate walking past the homeless person standing in front of a help wanted sign but doggies can't work yo. Save the puppies!

ANYWAYS. Can you tell my blood sugar must be low? Yeah- I've had next to no sweets today. It's getting scary up in this shiz here.

So I went grocery shopping today and spent (dun, dun, dun...) $62.33 for the week. Which seems like a lot compared to the last shopping excursion, but I have Jackson's birthday party coming up on Saturday so I only got one week of food PLUS the party goods. Aw yea. ;)

So the menu for this week:

Sunday: Ghetto Chicken One Dish
Monday: Build your own sandwich on croissants, tuna salad
Tuesday: Sara's Super Easy Stuff Shells
Wednesday: Beef Stew
Thursday: Cheddar Mac & Beef Skillet
Friday: Spaghetti
Saturday: PARTY (which will have my sloppy joes, chips, apples, my very own salsa dip with chicken, veggie tray..and drinks. Duh. And cake. Yay)

OK so my recipes last time were in HIGH demand, yall. Like I felt bad because I couldn't get them out fast enough. This time? I'm prepared! OK, not really. I'll wing it like last time. So if you want these recipes email me at: slinkies_r_us@hotmail.com and I will get them to you. I will put up a tutorial sometime this week of my lasagna rollers since I had quite a few people email me about this and I will tell you it's the only lasagna I'll eat. Because I'm picky.

BUT. A new thing I'm going to be doing on my blog is ending with a question. And if you comment, I want you to answer it. Since I got my go to book for entertaining company back, The Big Book of If, we get to play along. SO- our question for the evening:

If you had to pick the worst meal you've ever eaten- what would it be?
Easy. My first Thanksgiving with Matt's parents. We had plated everything up when his Dad said, "Just check for bullets" since he killed the turkey himself. I couldn't eat anything.

Book Review: WHY YOU SAY IT by Webb Garrison

Before I start my review- let's put up a reminder about the GIVEAWAY happening. Enter or be a loser. Your choice. :)

On with the review! OK so this book was given to me to review through Book Sneeze (link on the right of this post, scroll down a bit). I will tell you that pretty much the only reason I got this book was because of the rubber ducks. And stupid random information I may or may not ever need. I will say that I was just "meh" on the book. If you like to read things that are educational/informational this is for you. If you prefer to read things in novel format, this is not for you. I prefer novel and I don't really like learning late at night since I primarily read before bed so I had a tough time getting through this. BUT this is kind of a fun book to have on a table during a party or whatever. Or if you are one of those that likes to read while pooping, this would be good to have.

The book tells you why we say things such as "moron" "two way street" "lock, stock, and barrel", "ax to grind" etc. Some of them are funny, some are bizarre, and some make no sense to me. Here's an example:

Go Bananas: What makes a person who is normally calm and quiet suddenly "go bananas"? Why do we specify this fruit instead of Granny Smith apples or Bosc pears? No one knows exactly why a person will go wacko in a given situation. But there's a good reason for saying that anyone temporarily out of control has gone bananas. Actions of such a person are a lot like that of a caged monkey in a zoo. The sight of a keeper approaching with a bunch of bananas can make the animal freak out, or go bananas.

Do you feel smarter by reading that? I don't but at least if someone says it I can blurt out this paragraph and sound smart. SCORE.

On a scale I would give this 2 out of 5 stars. Not something I'd see at Barnes and Noble and be like, "'WOW-- I have to have this" but it was mildly entertaining.

If you would like a copy of this, comment on this post with your email address. First one to do so will get the book mailed to them by me, for free. Happy reading (or pooping)!

It's the freaking weekend- so let's give some stuff away!

Attention Lambwhores and Goatsluts! Yay! OK so this week I was approached by a newbie lambwhore around these parts to do a giveaway of some of her art. She's a fellow blogger, college student, has an adorable puppy, newly married, and yay-- let's help her out, mmkay?

Alright- so here is the piece:

Isn't she super talented? I think so. I'm kind of an art slut myself and I like things with pretty colors. And black and white photos. Anyways- not about ME, it's about YOU and possibly winning something so your house/apartment/shed/cardboard box/shopping cart doesn't look lame anymore! Yes.

So let's get on with the rules, shall we? Yes, we shall!

1. First off, you need to comment here so we know you are entering.

2. Then I want you to go to Jamie's blog. Give her some love. She is cute as a god damn button. You will totally dig her.

3. Then I want you to check out her Etsy Site: jackintheb0x etsy and then her online portfolio: jackintheb0x portfolio and in your comment on THIS post, tell us which piece you love, why you like it, etc.

4. Oh yeah- pimp this giveaway as well!

Now, I know that I have some international lambs/goats up in here but unfortunately, this is only open to US residents. But if you really like it, and really want to make it yours, please contact her through her blog. She is available for commissions. In fact, I'm enslaving her to do some art for Jackson's big boy bedroom and my living room. (The living room if I can get my shit together and just decide on a fucking paint color already).

This giveaway is going to be open for a week, so I will close it out on FRIDAY, MARCH 26...around 8ish. If you have questions or have problems understanding written instructions- shoot me an email at: slinkies_r_us@hotmail.com where I will likely make fun of you before clearing those questions up. Have fun, happy interwebs clicking, and good luck!

Weigh In. Folks- we have PROGRESS

Lambwhores and goatsluts- your leader is on her way to be a hot bitch.

To give you a recap, my starting weight was 183.6 (August 09) at which point I was basically doing nothing. Well, except eating a lot of really great stuff that's no good for you.

So in January I bought a fuckmill and decided I was going to really lose weight. And then I did another weigh in report in February but haven't done anything since. And here's where I get honest with you. In March I have been a fucking lazy ass. I missed 8 days of walking out of 18 days this month. I know- you don't need to yell at me. BUT I had really good reasons why. (Book club, Alice in Wonderland, my birthday, uh...some other stuff..) Whatever. I get it. I'm falling off the band wagon faster than Robert Downey Jr in the 80s.

But I'm back on bitches! This weekend being in Chicago really kicked started it for me. Not only did I walk HEAPS (jandy--shout out for stealing your word..) but I also wasn't winded. Which is such an improvement on it's own.

I'm no longer a size 16, I'm totally a size 14 sometimes even in a 12 depending on the brand of pants. Score. I can no longer by shirts at the fat girl store- they are way too big on me. Score.

So let's just get on with the pictures o' progress, shall we?

OK first off, sorry for the grainy pictures. Once again Matt was "tinkering" with my camera and every time he does that it fucks it up and then I have to read the manual and figure it out. It's like dammit- play with your own shit. Jesus. I just bought you new lotion. Don't fuck up my stuff.

Sorry for the derailed rant, yo. OK so here's me after the fuckmill. What I should note is that I am VERY happy I'm not losing ass or hips. I actually like those on me. My ass is toned up- there is absolutely no jiggle. Score. And guess what???? My thighs aren't touching a whole bunch- only a little bit. SCORE.

What else is I've noticed is that my arms are shrinking on their own. Which is weird, but nice. You'll notice my boobies haven't shrunk. Odd thing, though. I'm pretty sure either Lane Bryant changed their sizing or I'm a fucking DD. I think I grew in cup size. Now how in the HELL does that happen?! I really don't understand that. And I'm also not happy with it.

And before we get to my weight for this time...let's review what my goal actually is, mmkay?? And to do that, we need to refer to my 30/30 list (which will be it's own discuss for tomorrow night). My goal was to lose at least 15 pounds. The weight this week?

169.6

Lambs- that means I have lost 14 pounds. Bitches, it's time to do fist pumps and pass the Ketel One. That's right, 14 pounds.

But now that I've gotten this far I think I want to shoot for like 20. I actually thought 15 pounds would be a huge difference to what I look like physically and it isn't. Now don't get me wrong- people around me have noticed a significant change. I have noticed a significant change just in energy level, less jiggly all over, definitely more definition in my legs (which looks fucking HOT...I'm going to look great this summer) and I do feel slimmer overall.

My next step is to actually go to Curves. I'm already paying for the damn membership so I'm actually going to go now. I am not kidding when I say I want to look good for my high school reunion coming this August. I was never comfortable with myself back in the day and now that I'm older I feel better about myself in general. Which is good. It's progress.

So after Chicago deemed me easy- it just wanted to cuddle.

Have you missed my first two posts on Chicago? (HERE and HERE) Well then you need to catch up. Otherwise you'll be the loser in the class that can't read.

So on my last post I showed you some of what we did on Saturday. But what also happened on Saturday was, apparently, the St. Patrick's Day/Observation Day celebration in Chicago. I always forget when traveling that you should try to go on a holiday. Nevermind what all those travel sites tell you. Because celebrating St. Pats in Chicago is AMAZING.

Why?

Because they dye the mother fucking river GREEN!!

So here is Matt and I in front of the bright ass green river. Which at first I automatically thought "Wow- they should get their sewage under control" but then I thought "Oh wait..I'm so fucking stupid." But yay! I pretty much convinced everyone to purchase these cheap ass shamrock beads because I didn't want to be the only loser in the huge crowd with NOTHING green on. I mean come on. So I made Matt get me two. Because two is my fav number AND because I have to be difficult. But I prefer to label myself as "different".

I will say there was some really atrocious outfits. Fat girls in bright green spandex. A lot of spandex and leggins were happening and I'd say 90% of it was on girls who had no business wearing it. Now I am no where near the weight of these chicks but you will never catch my ass in spandex.

Here's me rocking out with probably the worst hot chocolate I have ever had in my life. Starbucks can maybe make a good coffee (I don't drink coffee so I'll just take other people's word for it) but they butcher a fucking hot chocolate. Bitches.
More green river!

So we walked over, in the rain, to see the parade. Which yeah...wasn't going to happen. For one, we're all short. Like I'm 5'3 and tallest of our group (Matt) is 5'10. So by the time we got to the parade place it was packed. I had the idea of standing on this garbage can but then a 4 year old beat me too it. Brat. But in lieu of that we walked back over to Millenium Park. Which is fabulous.

And I will admit, I'm pretyt damn ignorant when it comes to famous things in cities. I just have no clue. Like I might look stuff up before I go but usually I don't. I pretty much rely on locals. But Dena kept talking about some fucking bean and I'm thinking, "I don't like beans" but then yeah. It's not a real bean. It's a giant mirrored bean shaped thingie. It's obviously reflective so here is me being a dork in the bean. (And some of my followers got a text pic of me in the bean. Apparently nobody cared. Or thought I lost my mind talking about beans)
Then the brothers, Matt and Karl, had to get in on the bean action. Wow- making their momma proud. I sure hope we make the family Christmas card.

And then once the novelty of the bean wore off, Matt took my picture in front of some huge building. Except you can't really see me because he sucks ass taking pictures.

Here's another Sara Fun Fact: I fucking LOVE picketers. I love a good protest. I would have been in my element in the 60's. And not only did Chicago give me a green river and not give me an STD, but it also gave me a good protest. And not just ANY protest. No, Chicago (obviously jockeying for a second date) gave me a SCIENTOLOGY protest! I fucking love it. I knew I had to get my picture taken with the masked crazies. And thank god when I asked this chick she was all eager beaver about it.

So here is Karl and I making friends with the crazy protest chick:

And although you can't see it well in this picture, my hands say "Free Suri" and Karl's says "Free Kate". Yes- that was my idea. And yes, the crazy chick loved it.
But then down the block, and I failed to get their picture which bums me out, were the talented protest guys who could break dance with masks on. They had fab music going and let's be real- anybody using fucking Pac Man images and electrical tape on a sign is awesome in my book.
That was pretty much it for Saturday in Chicago. It was a LOT of walking. I only did my fuckmill one day last week but the amount of walking I did over the two days we were there more than made up for it.

Now before I close out for the evening, pleace check out Amber and Chicken- they got their box from the Sara Awesomeness Giveaway and posted about it. Mr. O tells me he got his so yay! The mail system prevails!

Tomorrow I'm going to post about Hooters. And not just about MY particular hooters, but the fine family dining establishment. I promise you it will be funny. You *may* pee your pants. (Disclaimer: if you do, I am not responsible for cleaning up after your stank ass). ALSO!!! More FABULOUS news. I am going to be having another giveaway- look for this on Thursday. It's going to be artwork from a fellow blogger who is the shiznit and it's going to be fun! Supa fun! Yay!

After the first night of loving...Chicago loved me some more.

Well now that we all got to read about my adventures in Chicago on the first day/night let's talk about Saturday, shall we?

We woke up from the concert rendezvous at around 9am. Which seemed really early but you know- we had a day ahead of us. We ate dinner at the really nice restaurant in the hotel where Dena promptly stuff her purse full of the really cute jars of ketchup and jelly. Because hi- that's what you do. (AND we stole the Bath & Body Works shampoo, conditioner, lotion, and soap out of our rooms.) Breakfast was really good and we decided that we were going to see what was around our hotel.

That something happened to be the Magnificent Mile. Yes- it was rad. It was everything I thought it would be. I learned how to use revolving doors without getting your foot, purse, jacket or other limbs stuck and without running into the door. But I do think it's weird that EVERY place has a revolving door. I don't know. Are regular doors ghetto or something? Anyways. Before we could go anywhere we realized that we needed our jackets, I needed gloves and Dena wanted her hat. This all required a little walk to the valet parking garage where every floor is themed by an album.

Of course we got the most kick ass floor:

Neil fucking Diamond's "The Best Year of our Lives" album. Now this album is on REPEAT on this floor. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure the parking attendant job is a high turnover position because if I had to listen to the same album over and over again every single day- it sure as hell wouldn't be Neil Diamond. Or any of these other artists. Don't get me wrong, I love me some "America" "Sweet Caroline" "Love on the Rocks" and "Cracklin Rosie" just as much as the next person. But every god damn day?

No spank you.

So we get our winter gear. I'm going to post about the St. Patty's Day stuff and crazies tomorrow- but here are a *few* of the touristy things we saw/did.

Karl was a cowboy. I saw the bull and told Karl to hop on up. What I love about Karl is that I refer to us as the "family rejects" because we are the two that don't really belong in the Strand clan. Which is kind of funny since he's born into it and I'm just kind of there. So I love Karl. Karl is funny, spontaneous, and a god damn dork sometimes. But I love him. And this right here? Proves that he's awesome.

After getting lost and really having no idea where the fuck some place called The Gage was (which was recommended to us by the hotel guy who appeared to be on crack and maybe in need of some more because his shakes were BAD, but instead of just putting a star on the block where it is on the map- he circles a 28 block radius. Yeah- not really helpful) we stopped into the Chicago Art Institute because we figured maybe they would know where the fuck this place was. Because the police had no idea. Which again, handy.

We must have looked like lost white kids (which we would have because we stood there, all four of us, staring at this map like it was the Map from Dora the Explorer and we give us three step instructions) because some really nice guy offered to help. He also had no fucking clue what we were talking about, but gave us the instructions on how to get to the John Hancock building where he promised would have food and more importantly, more shopping. Love you strange guy who was super helpful. But since he worked at the Art Institute he practically begged us to see some Tiffany Dome exhibit thingie. So really- what can you do?

It was pretty. But we couldn't go in the room because it was roped off for some event. It's the largest in the world and I will admit--pretty breathtaking to think what goes into making a Tiffany thing.
But what I have pictures of and am not posting (I will some day, just not today) are quotes about books, libraries, etc that were etched or something into marble on the walls. I'm going to get them printed and framed for around my book case. They were that cool.

So after seeing the dome and discovering that the women's bathroom was closed, we walked the eight blocks to the John Hancock building. It should be noted that at this point, my socks and shoes were soaked and my pants were wet from the bottom to mid calf. It was really sexy. And uncomfortable.

We get to the John Hancock, which according to the postcard I bought is a really big black building. True to form, it's big and black. This picture also will get framed for my living room. Anyways- so we got there. Rode the elevator to the 95th floor to the Signature Room. Yeah- Dena used the potty while the rest of us checked out the menu. Guess who is WAY under dressed and broke to eat there? Us.

Plus the view sucked. All you saw was fog.

So we ended up eating at the Cheesecake Factory. Which was fine, I had never eaten there and I had a really good burger. My spicy chicken nachos were even better. We sat at the bar while I chatted it up with the bartender who is originally from Clearwater, Florida. Love you hot bartender guy. He was hot. Seriously. Dena thinks he was gay but there is no way. No way because he totally checked out my boobs. Three times. Because Matt counted. (WHAT?! I can't help I had great cleavage with my sweater/tank top combo. Sue me.)

After lunch we shopped a bit. NOTHING at Lush really pulled me. Like everything smelled like ass, dirt, minty burnt firewood, and urine. I mean really? People pay to smell like this?? Disappointing.

But on the way back I told the group I could not drive home in wet shoes. No way. I couldn't wear my boots because hi- they hurt. So I did what any self respecting shoe lover would do. I went to Nine West and bought a pair of $98 sneakers. Here's me proudly holding my bag. Which I still have. Shut up- you know you'd keep it too.

Here are my sneakers. Now these are the hotness for two reasons.

1. Bright colors

2. Jelly plastic on the toe

I love sneakers, especially comfy ones, and I love jelly shoes. I am past the age where it is socially acceptable to wear jelly shoes so this is the best I can do. I promise you they don't look as retarded on my feet. I'll post pics of that some time. But they are SUPER comfortable.

And you might be saying, "Sara- there totally is a payless right down the street" to which I say- Shut the fuck up. Matt does not need to know that. And who buys Payless shoes on the Magnificent Mile?? Huh?? LOSERS- that's who.

After I purchased my shoes, we went to the hotel and made the valet get the van. I totally forgot to tip the valet. Sorry super nice valet guy. :( SADS. But I did leave my new Ludacris cd in which I think he appreciated because it was on track 2 when I got out and it was on track 13 when we got in. The garage is like 2 blocks away. So there- that was nice of me, right??

Here's the four of us, holding our loot for the day. Matt got stuck carrying the Disney Store bag. He literally lugged that thing around for almost 6 hours. Which really- he had no choice. But I didn't get to put my shoes on until we got out of Illinois because the valet parked the van in the middle of the road and the taxis behind us really didn't seem to care that I couldn't feel my feet because they were soaked. So I was a trooper and waited the almost two hours to change my shoes.

And again, I have to say that despite the yucky weather (rain/mist, fog, wind) my hair and makeup is still holding up decently.

Muse Concert and Chicago Slut

Lambs and Goats I have almost an entire week of Chicago related posts for you so get ready. And by the end of the week you too can be a Chicago slut. Just like me. For my Chicago cherry has been popped, I saw Muse, Chicago traffic is my bitch, I didn't kill anyone, met a midget who would not let me take her picture, ate fab pizza, and made friends with picketers. And cabbies who speaky no English.

A success if there ever was one.

So let's talk about the drive first, mmkay? We left Superior at 7 am, an hour later than I had planned. It's a 9 hour drive (according to MapQuest) from Superior to Chicago. (Look at a map to understand my struggle), with a stop in Chippewa Falls, WI to get Karl & Dena. (Karl is Matt's brother, Dena is his girlfriend). What would *normally* be a 2 1/2 hour drive was done in 1 1/2 hours.

That's right. I'm STILL the champion at driving to places in record speed.

Once we got in Chicago I was worried. Literally EVERYBODY was like, "Oh my god- you are so stupid...Chicago traffic is HORRIBLE." Well, yeah, it sucks because it's like five lanes going the same way and a lot of cars. But it's doable. Please know I was taught how to drive by an over the road truck driver with a totally clean driving record. It helps.

But you see the car on the left of this picture? With only the window brake light? I almost rear ended her a million times. Because the light would come on only after her brakes had been applied for a few seconds so driving behind her for 45 minutes in bumper to bumper is kind of a nightmare. But I want you to know Chicago traffic became my bitch when I successfully crossed 5 lanes of traffic without hitting anyone, without getting hit myself, no horns or fingers were used and I made my exit on time. That's right folks. Just like this maroon car is doing--you just go. You don't even need a blinker, but it helps psychologically. Like I'm pretty sure nobody saw my blinker, but because I knew I had it on it made me feel better cutting people off.

So once we checked into our hotel, the Wyndham Downtown, we got ready (and I looked hot. I am not even going to lie. The outfit was hot, the boots looked good, my hair and makeup was hot..it was like the perfect storm for hotness) we went to have some authentic Chicago pizza. So we went to Gino's East- and you write on the walls. Or furniture. Unfortunately- we didn't have a sharpie. Or white out. BUMMER.

So here is Karl & Dena at Gino's. I have to say - we had a FABULOUS waiter. And I'm pretty sure we were sitting next to the long lost fourth Jonas brother. Because he had the signature ugly ass hair.

Here's our pizza. It was FABULOUS. It doesn't look good but believe me- it was worth the 9 hour drive.

Matt and I waiting for our bill. Is it just me, or does Matt look like he's either drunk or a creeper? I can assure you no drinky was had. Yet. But there's me--hair and makeup holding out nicely despite the wind.
So then we hopped in a cab to get our asses to the United Center. The cabbie had a bizarre accent but kept referring to us as his friends. Which was weird because he was a terrible driver (but ended up being better than the guy we'd eventually get later on) and I thought we were going to die. I don't know about you, but I try to keep my friends alive.

We got there with 45 minutes to spare. So here is me, getting ready to do the damn thing up in there. You'll see the leg of the chick behind me who was so nice and jammed out with me for like two songs. More on that in a bit.

I know I mentioned to some people that my seats were supposed to be horrible. We were the balcony above the balcony, behind the stage with an obstructed view.

(Moment of silence for the big moment of SADS there)

And when I saw the stage, I texted a pic to Mr. O, who sadly could not be with me because he's like a million miles away, who helpfully replied with "That's great...but isn't that BEHIND the stage?" Um..yes. But I figured it was still going to be awesome because we were by all the sound equipment and you know a concert sucks when you still have full hearing afterwards. I was pretty convinced I'd be deaf. Bonus.

For those of you who follow me on FB you'll notice I posted about drinking. Now, for those who don't know me in real life, I don't drink. I used to, but I don't drink at all now. But for some reason, I felt like maybe I'd need a little drinky drink so I made Matt go get me a drink. He comes back with this fruity thing in a GIANT cup. Two sips later and I realize that this is 90% rum with a little pineapple juice. Two things I hate- rum and pineapple juice. So after two sips (which weren't super small) I was dizzy and I felt like my throat was on fire. Disgusting. So I gave the rest to Karl. Matt, the veteran drinker and former man-whore, couldn't drink it either. Which was nice because I didn't feel like such a drink pussy about that. So there's my two sips of drinkity drink. Lame.

So when Silversun Pickups came on the columns were like TV's. Kind of. We saw their pics on it but basically couldn't see the band because you only saw their face. They sounded good and had GREAT interaction with the crowd. And since Mr. O was the ONLY person to pick up their fucking phone, Mr. O was the ONLY person to hear like a minute of Silver. He guessed which song they had, so it must have been decent enough reception.

They played for about 45 minutes, which was most of their newest album, Swoon. They were really good and they remind me of the Smashing Pumpkins a lot.

After Silver I decided I had to pee. Like bad. So I wait in line for the bathroom for 10 minutes, get in and realize the seat is full of piss. Like someone thought the toilet was a urinal and just pissed EVERYWHERE. And the bonus here is that there is no toilet paper. But never fear- this bitch had her wet wipes and thank god for that. So I peed with the luxury of knowing I was able to wipe up and didn't have to dig for a receipt in my purse. I felt vindicated and that was super.

So then the lights go out and it starts. Mother fucking MUSE, bitches.

And our seats turned out to be some of the best in the house because the columns? Were part of the stage! So this is during "Uprising" and I called Mr. O who I think heard some of it, but I can't remember or not. I was too busy rocking out and screaming like a freak.

They played so well and every song was so amazing. It is probably my #2 fav concert, right behind Kings of Leon. I say they are only #2 because if I'm going to be honest- their crowd interaction sucked. They spoke MAYBE twice, with 3 words or less, during the entire 2 1/2 hour concert. The other thing that sucked was the crowd. As a avid music whore and concert slut I expect that the rest of the people at the concert are there to jam out. Jamming out means standing up, jumping around, singing, clapping, screaming, etc. I do all of these things when I'm at a good concert. NOBODY else in my section was doing that. Except for the two or three guys in front of Dena and Karl who danced for a few songs. And so here I am, having a blast and jamming out, and nobody around me is doing anything.

Fucking losers. I mean, I was tired. I had been up since 5am, drove 9 hours, had very little food in me, I was dizzy, felt like I was going to puke but I am rocking out. Because that's the purpose of going. If I wanted to be lame and stand there like an idiot doing nothing, I would have just listened to the cd at home.

So that's my rant about that. Anyways. So almost towards the end they dropped some giant eyeball balloons that looked pretty cool.

Overall- the concert was great. Their stage was great and if you ever get a chance to see Muse live, I highly recommend that you do. If their stages are normally anything like the one we had

there is no bad seat despite what your ticket may say.

So after the concert we had to hail a cab back to our hotel. Us and like 4000 other people. Guess who didn't get a cab? Us.

A few people received texts from me describing our plight of walking in the fucking windy, 38 degree, misty rain weather in the middle of the night through the darkened streets of Chicago. Now I have taken cabs in lots of places. I know how to hail a cab and find a cab. At every concert I have ever been to there has been a "cab bank" along one side of a venue. Apparently United Center does not have that unless it was in some top secret location. We tried calling a cab ourselves, calling the hotel to arrange for a cab, etc to no avail. We walked (if I did my blocks converted to miles math correctly) almost 3 miles trying to get a cab. Now, I'm a firm believer that if you are lost or need help you stay the fuck where you are and stop moving around. Moving around does not help. You could walk from one end of Chicago to the next and no cab is going to be like, "Wow- I think they need a ride". No. They drive past your sorry wet ass.

And guess who's wearing really uncomfortable boots that we never made for walking?

Me.

And guess who has 27 blisters total on her feet from this walking?

Me.

We got back to the hotel REALLY late, only after jumping into a very dirty minivan cab decked out with those air freshener trees that no longer smell and driven by a guy who clearly speaks only enough English to tell you how much you owe. This guy could have been making plans to bomb the entire eastern seaboard but we would never know it because he talked so fast in some foreign language in between slamming on his brakes.

The highlight of that ride came when I was sliding all over the fucking backseat and put my hand in some kind of wet puddle on the seat. Let me tell you that it's a damn good thing it was dark otherwise I would have cried while puking. Instead, I wiped it on my already wet and filthy pants along with god only knows what else was on that seat. I got the fuck out of that cab as quick as I could. But how we even made it to the hotel alive I don't even know because driver missed a few red lights and I think he believes that stop signs with a white border are actually optional. Apparently the Illinois Department of Transportation are really lax on the whole "must pass a road test" restriction.

We made it back really late. And I took a great shower despite the fact my feet hurt so bad and my heels were actually bleeding. No good.

OK- so that was Friday night in Chicago. If you want to see ALL of my Chicago pictures including everything from the Muse concert- check out my Facebook page (link to your right somewhere) and they are all up.

Tomorrow we'll talk about Saturday in Chicago. And inadvertently celebrating St. Patrick's Day in the windy city.

IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, BITCHES!!!

That's right. 28 years ago today my mother birthed me in a hospital in St. Pete, FL and the world instantly became a better and more fun place. I think we can all agree on that.

So last week my friend Tammy kicked it all off with the BEST card ever. You see, Tammy knows me. She gets me. When I opened it up I didn't notice it at first. But upon closer inspection- Robert is really kissing me. And not skank ass fugilicious Kristen Stewart. Yes. This needs to happen in real life because I think you'll agree we make a good couple. Nevermind that part of Rob's face is missing- I got over zealous with the envelope. BUT..the side is a BOOKMARK. Tammy- you rock. This bitch is hanging up in my scrap closet. Tammy is probably the friend that gets my struggle with Matt the most. And let's be real, anybody that is still my friend after I almost killed her AND took her for an impromptu muffin run is just the most kick ass person EVER.

And one day I will do an entire post about my Tuesdays with Lisa. Which I'm serious, her and I need to be a talk show. She's the skinny one, I'm the chunky one, we're both funny, and I look forward to any time I get with Lisa. Because she has like a zillion friends and so it's hard to get time together. PLUS she told me that I need to get more bitchy. I know. A real friend will always say you are never bitchy enough. Lisa- I love you. You are such a fabulous friend, I can't even tell you. And don't think I've realized that you have not made me tie ribbons on bubble bottles. Don't feel like I need that experience. ;) BUT I do owe you. HAHA!! So anyways. Lisa took me out to lunch for my birthday on Tuesday. Here is us in front of the poker machines. Yes we were at a bar during our lunch on a work day. BUT..it's a restaurant too.
So then later on, the kids were home when I got home we had cake. Granted, it was probably the grossest cake ever. After being together for 8 years I kind of just assume that Matt would know what kind of birthday cake I like (Cold Stone Creamery's "A Cheesecake Named Desire") since I buy it for every occassion that cake would be appropriate for. So -5 for crappy cake. BUT here is me with Olivia and Jackson. (PS--how tired do I look??)


And after cake I got to open the gifts Olivia and Jackson made me. Photo frames and they picked out their own pictures to put in them. So here they are (the two brightly colored foam frames) displayed with the pictures I have of them by my work. (and yes, they are in a window and yes- that's my wonderful view of the exhaust shop on the side of our building)

So that was Tuesday.

Today is my actually birthday (holla!!) and my co-workers decorated my desk.

Here's my desk when you walk in:

You'll notice my phone has a "Fabulous" key chain on it:

Shot of my desk:

And among the things I got for my birthday:

• free lunch from Lisa on Tuesday with a card that has the Golden Girls theme song. Again--not only does she say I can be more bitchy, but she gives me a card with the theme to quite possibly, the best show ever.
• free lunch from co-workers.
• a Dilbert book called "A Guide To The Rest Of Your Life" which is HILARIOUS.
• cards from lots of people.
• a knitting for idiots tool from a building co-worker, The Treadler.
• $60 in gas money from my brother for Chicago (Travis, you rock)
• frames from the kids
• a very cool note AND cd from fellow blogger Sam. (Thanks, SAM!!! I am pretty excited about my new cd-- you rock chick!)
• a dirty story about her first time from a fellow blogger who shall remain nameless. But I love her just the same.
• and last, but never least.. a poem. By Chicken.

Sara has me as a lamb whore
Compared to her I'm quite a bore
Today she turns twenty eight
If she lived closer, I'd take her on a date
She has quite the potty mouth
Yesterday she told me who'd she like to go South
Her humor is very crude
She curses like a dude
Maybe this year she'll learn to be a bitch,
Start slapping hookers and leaving them in a ditch
She always looking for a bra for her big ol' tittys
Even refers to them as her Twin Cities
She's a great mom
She'll even drive you home after your 5th sake' bomb
I feel this is the year she'll achieve her "goal"
After that point even Jesus can't save her soul
With the next line this birthday song will end
Sara is above all things a great friend.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

So with that lambs and goats- I am officially 28. I have no idea of my birth details but I do know my mom did it drug free so let's hope I was little. I think I was. Like 7 pounds something. (HA-- look at me now!) But thank you to everyone who posted birthday wishes on the blog, on my Facebook, in my email, in my text, etc. I appreciate it all and all of your warm wishes made it kick ass. I *actually* felt like a celeb today.

Which means tomorrow to stay on top I need to either flash some vag or get a DUI. According to Perez Hilton anyways. ;)