UPDATE TO Mrs. Flinger October 16, 2015
Because the Universe has a wicked sense of humor, after this delcaration, my blog threw up all over my last upgrade.
So I'm starting over using Craft. Turning 40 and kid entering Jr High next year, sometimes it's just time for a change. These archives will still exist in the way the last child goes off to college and their room is the same for 20 years, but it's just time to move forward.
This is not a diet blog Oct 15, 2005
I’ve recently been inspired to lose those last 13 pounds I’ve been hanging on to for sentimental reasons (I assume). Not to harp on the subject, but I am a little sad to realize that in two days I will be one year post partum. One year to lose all 61 pounds I gained. I guess I thought surely I’d be back to my old clothes by now. At two months post partum I broke down and bought a pair of jeans four sizes bigger. At six month I broke down and really worked it and lost seven pounds. At one year post partum? I wore some old shorts to the A&M game and it gave me poo problems. Seriously. This can not be good.
WOOOOP Oct 15, 2005
We’re headin’ to the A&M game to watch Pappa march in the alumni band at half time. It’s LB’s first football game. Wish us luck with that. Meanwhile, you can scan the crowd for screaming children and the band for Pappa Here at this Live Feed of the Game!
Everything is bigger in Texas. Including my Ass. Oct 14, 2005
So, we went shopping yesterday. I thought, Hey! I need new jeans! I mean, sure, I have a cabinet of jeans waiting for me to fit back in to but I’m not the size 14 I was 2 months post partum when I broke down and bought a pair last year. So, feeling all proud and whatnot, I go to the “70% off” section and find a kickass pair of jeans for 12 bucks. TWELVE DOLLA. I grab two pairs, a 9 (feeling optimistic are we?) and an 11.
In the dressing room, I try on the 11s in several styles of capris and jeans. Y’all. NOT ONE FIT. I couldn’t zip a single effing one. NOT ONE. The jeans barely got over my thighs and my ham&cheese ass laughed in the mirror at me. I realized I was in the JUNIOR section. Ok, I told myself, I am NOT a junior. Only skinnyass moms like KelliBelly can get away with that (it’s true, I’ve shopped with her IRL. She’s hot AND nice. It’s not fair. All in loves, Kelli!)
So, please, tell me the junior sizes are cut smaller for smaller never-been-pregnant asses and tiny hips and thighs. ‘Cause I got 20 pounds that says I’m not a “junior” any more.
Jackass husbands and the crap they say Oct 13, 2005
I have a little story, a funny story, that happened on our way to the airport.
We stopped at Starbucks (of course) and I ran in while Mr. Flinger sat in the car with LB listening to the traffic report.
Man, early thirties, obviously checking out chick, mid twenties with great ass. Man sees me watching him checking her out. Says to her, loud enough for me to hear, “Those are great pans. Where’d you get them?” She responds, “Oh, thanks, got them at [fancy clothing place I’ve never heard of] [or will ever be able to afford].” Him, “Oh! That’s my wife’s favorite store!”
Me, quietly, “Riiiight. Jackass.”
In the car:
Mr. Flinger, upon hearing the story, “Well, where they good pants?” Me, “They were tight and she had a great ass.” “So you checked her out?” Me, “Of course.”
Watch us head drive to the airport Oct 12, 2005
Hey, if you’re super bored at work (ahem, Nicole) then you can watch us drive to the airport. See that lil’ car behind all the other ones? That’s us! Wave Flingers Wave!
* sticky post * Read Set, wait, didn’t we grab.. ready set, hold it.. ok, ready set… Oct 11, 2005
P.S. This will be a sticky post. Anything new is down there. Or on the moblog for the trip.
So, we’re not ready. But hey! Look! I got a moblog working! Now, shut your pie hole about how lame the design is (uh.. what design? ya ya, I heard ya) but at least I can moblog ALL I WANT TO. Maybe I’ll even make it pretty and make it a thing. Ya know? Flinger MoBlog! Oooh, I love technology.
‘k.. So, check over there to the left on the menu (see the pretty flip-flop to the left? Yea.. go there…) I have the last five pics coming up and then there are more (or will be) in the “home.” Ahh, hell, I’m talking to BLOGGERS, not my CS101 students. (GAWD, I promise to keep a running list of things I get asked and emails I recieve).
Now, I must finish packing. I’m just not sure whether or not to bring the condoms. I mean, a week in Oma’s house? Not so much gonna be doing any chicka chicka bow bow. Plus it’s hot. Do you know what hot means? Fat, Hot, Sweaty ass. Yea. I’m good. Thankyouverymuch.
And with that image (sorry) I leave you.
So, bon voyage! Asta Lavista! Tooodles! Chow! Alright already.
I guess we’re all effed up in our own ways Oct 10, 2005
What I was about to write is how when Mommy says, “Can you [fill in house chore here] and [simultaneous but attainable house chore here as well] and give the baby a bath?” what Mr. Flinger’s version is “Can you [turn up TV really loud with WWE] and [yell at baby while you try to accomplish said chores] and forget to give baby a bath.”
I realized, while I was about to type my rant, that I really have no leg to stand on. I mean, here I am, in the office, ready and needing to work and I’m thinking about how I must (it is imperative) get a “mutual moblog” before the trip so that I have a place to send phone pictures where the family site and this, my mistress site that I confide in nightly, can see the latest on
TEXAS TRIP TWO THOUSAND FIVE: will the flinger family destroy what is left of southern hospitality in their feeble attempt to fly the friendly skies?
As you can see, my priories are obviously just as effed.
The real lesson is not, “Before you bitch about your husband, take the wood plank out of your eye,” (I believe it’s in one of the new testamentthingies? Yes? Probably worded differently) No, see, the lesson of this post is this: “Get your damn moblog up because you gotsta blog!”
Codiene anyone? Oct 09, 2005
We “got” to run to the ER today. It’s not what it sounds like. My small-ish town HMO facility can’t handle a stiff neck accompanied by headaches, dizzy spells, and tunnel vision with a sore throat and body aches. That, my friends, warrents a visit to the E freaking R. The system is horrid. There’s a lot of waiting. There’s a lot of paperwork. There’s a lot of nakedness in those stupid gowns. And, overall, there’s a lot more time spent to hear the same thing, “Take two of these and call if your symptoms don’t get better.”
Anyone up for Codiene? I got a buttload now.
This does nothing for my hypochondria, but they were concerend of meningitis. Apparently, if it’s bacterial and you don’t go into the ER pronto, it’s ugly. “Luckily” I have a VIRUS, which means there’s a whole lotta nothing they can do. Or, that’s his best guess at least. I swear, doctors are just technical support people in white coats working on a much more complicated operating system.
Doesn’t ANYONE understand me? Oct 08, 2005
When Lauren was little, very little, like three weeks old, I threw a fit one night. She had been screaming for three hours (blood curling screaming that totally makes me go a little coo coo) and Mr. Flinger came rushing out to take over without considering what I was feeling/thinking. I threw an absolute fit including yelling, throwing, and falling into a heap onto the floor (this was all at 3am). I remember being so embarrassed and guilt-ridden at my outburst. I thought I was going to hell for yelling that I hated my kid. But, y’all, at that moment, on 5 hours of sleep in two days? I hated everything and everyone. And she wasn’t helping.
My inner 14 year old boy Oct 08, 2005
Why I know I’m a 14 year old boy.
The following things made me giggle to no end:
- For a viewing of this house call Pattty De Toit. Get it? TOIT? (BTW: that’s a true live real estate agent named that. I kid you not.)
- Turning around in a driveway in the country. Me: OOOh, cows! a few seconds of silence. Mr. Flinger, “I see your teets.”
- All I can think of with the post title, “The Nutty Professor” is “I didn’t EAT any corn”
- When people call me Professor at school
- Farting is funny
- When people talk about Hummers. (Get it? hummer? Feel free to wiki that yourself.)