Vince Vaughan asked me out!

He asked me out! In my dream last night.

He asked me to come with him to have dinner on his boat! Can you believe that?!?

But FIRST he wanted me to help him clean his roof. And that's not some kind of sick metaphor, either. Literally, scrubbing his entire, gigantic SUN-PELTED ROOF.

And the way he presented the date? It sorta made it clear that there wouldn't be dinner without the roof cleaning first.

Hmmmm. He's totally not that into me, you guys.

This here. THIS is why I'm fat.

Can I submit a photo of my mother to www.thisiswhyyourefat.com? Please?

She needs to be stopped. These cookies are ridiculous.

If he's really 'following' ME? Then we're all in a boatload of trouble.

Lacking depth, one post at a time.

I found a great website the other day, called 'This is why you're fat'. It features ridiculous and fattening food offerings, with reader-submitted photos and descriptions.

Or maybe it's a sad website?

But people, I'm just not sure who gets sad when they look at a picture of a Chicken Finger Pizza:

The description: "A pizza consisting of Thousand Island dressing as the sauce, topped with a family size bag of chicken fingers, a container of bacon bits all smothered in sliced mozzarella cheese."

It's no secret that I lack depth, so I'll just go ahead and say it: this is just plain old HILARIOUS. I think my favorite part about the description is the 'family size bag' qualifier. It really adds to the overall grossness of the dish.

The most disturbing part of this site was not the bacon cheeseburger with buns made out of personal pan pepperoni pizzas, though that would've been a good guess. No. It was the fact that I saw a few things that actually looked pretty tasty. (I'll let you guess which ones I wanted to eat. Go ahead and take a guess. I dare you.)

I'm a sick pig. Somebody should put me out to pasture where there is no internet service.

FIVE sounds OLD.

Today my sweet baby girl turns five, and I can hardly believe it! The time has flown since she was born, and I am starting to feel like one of those old ladies in the grocery store that sighs at newborn babies and declares "It goes by so fast!". I haven't started carrying around photos of my babies in a billfold yet, so I guess I'm not TOTALLY over the edge.

But using the word 'billfold' is never a good sign.

She has grown up and changed so much...with each and every year she surprises me. For example: when she was born, we were shocked that she was a HUMAN! A real, live human baby! Terribly surprising. We weren't prepared for that one.

When she was one, we learned that in addition to the blue eyes and fair skin, she would add yet another physical trait that would alienate her from her mother. Suddenly our baby girl had CURLS! Those sweet blond ringlets would cause strangers to ask if I was her full or part-time nanny?

(For some reason, before she was born I had imagined my daughter to have long dark and straight hair, olive skin and brown eyes. And she'd probably be creative and funny, a big eater with a big loud mouth to go along with it. She'd have a fiery temper, would love all things Disney, all things silly and have sort of a bad attitude from time to time...but nothing that a present couldn't fix--maybe a tad of materialism thrown into the mix. Not sure where I came up with all of that.)

At two, we learned our daughter was incredibly outgoing and fearless in social circles, and was easy to drop off at pre-school, the church nursery, or the WalMart parking lot (heh. heh heh. just kidding). She had SO much fun at all of these outings, she often would not want to be picked up....which was always good for my mommy ego. She was a gregarious singer (that's how we knew she was awake!) and had a laugh that we called 'the chortle': a deep, throaty, belly-rubbing kind of laugh that made everyone in earshot wonder where the portly senior citizen was hiding? And what was so funny?

At three, I can only recall being eternally grateful that she was kind, obedient, and not interested in jumping from the top of the refrigerator. At the time I had a 1.5-year-old boy running around draining me of my resources. My girl has always been a good one.

Four definitely surprised us...as our outgoing little thing became shy and withdrawn. We had separation issues for the first time and real anxiety about meeting new people, going new places, and integrating into different social situations. I had always pitied the mothers waiting around the corner of the church nursery, chewing their nails, waiting for their kid to stop crying so they could breathe again...but her fourth year made me EMPATHIZE. I thought that kind of stuff was supposed to happen at two?

As we approach five, much has changed...and yet she's still the same sweet little girl we always knew. She is a great singer, a very very good artist (and I have outside confirmation on that, it's not just my opnion, I swear), an opinionated fashionista (darn it!) and has gotten much more comfortable in her skin...much more at ease with new situations and bigger groups of people. We're coming to realize it may be less of a 'phase' and more of her personality. She's quieter. Softer. Is a people pleaser. A little more fearful and timid than most....at her birthday party this year she nearly broke down into tears while the group sang HAPPY BIRTHDAY to her. All of those eyeballs on her and bodies surrounding her? It almost did her in.

Even now, she is throwing us for some loops! For the good and the bad, I'm so glad to be the mother of this little girl. I couldn't have dreamt up a more perfect daughter!

Uno, Dos, Tres, Catorce!

SIGH.

I have not had much motivation to write lately. Mostly because in order to write, one must have energy and/or motivation to do so. I have neither. My husband has taken to calling me 'Eeyore'. My kids have shunned me. Even the dog has turned on me.

Just kidding about my kids. They still love me.

But the rest of that is true. I've been in a FUNK, people! This warm weather has got my husband out and PLAYING SOME GOLF. If you're a mother with small children AND have a husband who plays some golf, you're feeling me on that one...am I right? I haven't been feeling great. I have been looking worse. PLUS, the dog has decided to like my husband better!! TOTALLY offensive.

I recently had my first (and hopefully last) bout of VERTIGO. You guys, that is a MISERABLE affliction. I seriously pity people who suffer from it chronically. I won't get into the details of my misery (try not to be disappointed) but will say that if you ever get this sickness, you probably will forever loathe the U2 song of the same name. All day long, all that filled my spinning head was "Helloooo Hellloooooo....I'm at a place called Vertigooooo", and I wanted to call Bono personally and thank him for such a melodic tribute to HELL ON EARTH.

That happened on May 15. I've got a lot of catching up to do.

Reminder.

Just in case you were with me on that post yesterday about the movie...JUST in case you may have had verbal skills enough to watch and understand a picture show in the year 1985...I need to send you a gentle, but firm reminder:

If you're old enough to remember the trend the FIRST time it came around, then you're too old to take part in it the SECOND time around.

Wiser words have never been spoken.

Also, if you're over 17, you shouldn't wear t-shirts featuring smart mouth catch phrases. You know, like, "The DIVA has spoken!" or something else of equal annoyance.

Truthfully, I don't like ANYONE of ANY age wearing 'confrontational' t-shirts. Blech. I mean, who needs to see a pig-tailed 5-year-old wearing a "GIVE ME CANDY OR I'LL SMACK YOUR FACE' t-shirt? Come on, people. Let's work together on this one.

Um. What was I saying?

OH yes. All of these crazy floral dresses everywhere! It's so Laura Ashley! It's so 1985! What is HAPPENING?

I cannot abide by any of that. I won't.

P.S. Is there any exception to this fashion rule? Let's open up the floor and talk about it.