Day 61 of 61: Dear God & Sense of Accomplishment Quiz
Dear God,
It's Donna Marie Hogg from Forest Park, IL. (I always make sure he knows where I'm at) I did it. Thank you God. Thank you for blessing me with your favor of strength, motivation (Misericordia and a healthier future), and supportive friends, family, and co-workers. Thank you for holding my hand in the darker times. (remember make-up mess?) Thank you for staying with me every day of 61 days. May you give me the strength to continue my journey wiser and more thoughtful. May you give me the strength to listen to your presence when the devil is trying to scream. I know you are doing a work upon me, and I will therefore be patient with the results. I love you with my entire existence, because I breathe not without your love and friendship.
Amen.
Sense of Accomplishment Quiz:
1. Did you think you could finish 61 days?
Yes and no. Yes because I knew God would be there to see me through, and I trusted that. No, because I knew facing my demons for two months, during the epitome of fall fashion, would be a challenge. I knew I had to be realistic. I knew I had to take one day at a time, or I would never finish. Teddy from the first week, set the tone of this entire journey.
2. What helped you succeed to hit the 61 day mark?
God of course. But I really thank God for the Postman. The Postman was my rock. He loved me, believed in me, laughed with and at me, listened to me, lectured me, and never judged me. He would physically stop what ever he was doing, mute the television, and attentively listen to me read every blog twice. He never gave up on me. And, all those that read this blog....your comments always reminded me I wasn't alone. Thank you for making time to take this journey with me.
3. What were your biggest obstacles?
Getting off work and having time to kill. It was a mental, physical, and spiritual battle every day I left work. This journey was a building block, and I'm pretty positive this will continue to be a daily battle.
4. Was there any thing that surprised you on this journey?
Yeah, two things: First, that those that I thought would show support the most by reading this blog...didn't. While those that I didn't expect to....did & it pleasantly surprised me. Second, how easy it was to control my addiction on my days off. I eliminated all opportunities to fail. Going into this journey, I assumed my days off were going to be my downfall, and they weren't.
5. Was there any great lesson learned?
This entire journey was a lesson. But, I would have to say the lesson learned was: I don't need anything, I don't have a need for anything, and God-blessed I have sooooooooo much.
6. What does this mean for you now?
Happiness knowing that Misericordia is soon to be blessed with my sponsor money. I am excited to know my successful journey, my beloved sponsors, made it possible. And shopping wise, one day at a time. One day at a time. One day at a time.
7. Do you think you kicked the addiction?
No, but it helped me see the difference between life with and life without the effects of the addiction. My conscious is louder. Maybe I'll name her LaQuisha.
Last one. I will text my mailing address to those who opened their hearts and pocket books to support me and a wonderful cause.
Goodnight,
Encouraged Shopaholic
P.S. I cried like a little sissy proofreading this. It has been such an emotional battle. I read the words, and couldn't help but cry. Glasses and tears don't mix.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Day 60 of 61
Day 60 of 61: A new type of ugly
We all know I suffer something awful and devastating during my monthly gift, no surprise. The surprise is, yesterday and unfortunately today as well, I'm all kinda a new type of ugly. U-G-L-Y, this chick has no alibe. Face swollen, shirt dirty and smelly, hair hap-hazard on my head, ashy skin, kickin' breath, fingerprints on glasses, filthy black hairy pants, dirt under nails, purple period undies sticking out of the top of these pants, and my bloated belly roll hangin out because there's too much pain to worry about it!!! Like I said, a new type of ugly. Black mail pictures could be made by my sons. But then they would be at Oak Park Animal Shelter so fast, they wouldn't be able to shed on our "hair carpet" floor.
I literally layed on our comfortable, big, brown, leather couch aaaaaaaallllll day. I have couch sores. I never knew that was possible. I truly believe our hardwood has a little ditch path from the couch to the restroom. I made no detours.
Since I was a prisoner of my pain and the couch, I celebrated Halloween in a way. I watched snips and clips of all different types of Halloween movies and shows. Why not the whole movie or show? I'm a wimp, always have been, and always will be. I'm not ashamed. I'd start to watch House on a Haunted Hill, and be chill and cool. Then about 30 minutes later there would some type of terrrrrifying ghost with a chip on it's shoulder, and I'd have to change the channel to something more "bambi."
The game plan is to take Halloween down tonight, and put Christmas up before I go to sleep. The Post Man is the beeeeest hubby ever. He entertains me, and allows me to torture him so. I think deep down he enjoys my enthusiasm for the holidays, even if I am a tad bit early. So, the red and green come out of storage, and black and orange away. The Post Man's initial reaction when we worked out this plan yesterday, was: "We are taking down Halloween before the holiday is even here?" Yes. He totally got it. Smart man. I'm soooooooooo lucky.
AND, just in case you didn't know, TWO DAYS LEFT!!! If I had blogged tonight instead, it would be ONE day left. Update: Zara, a kick*$& store that is a mix between Forever 21 and H&M is having their grand opening today, and I my friends and family will be there this weekend. I will lick the fabrics, sniff the air so hard I'll snot, and moleste the clothing so much people will fear me, and allow me to go in the fittingroom before them. I CAN'T WAIT PEOPLE! I CAN'T WAIT! Rock n' roll leggings and jackets, girly sweaters, and hardcore boots....HERE I COME!!!! Stand back witches, stand back, I'M BACK!!
Good day,
Encouraged Shopaholic
We all know I suffer something awful and devastating during my monthly gift, no surprise. The surprise is, yesterday and unfortunately today as well, I'm all kinda a new type of ugly. U-G-L-Y, this chick has no alibe. Face swollen, shirt dirty and smelly, hair hap-hazard on my head, ashy skin, kickin' breath, fingerprints on glasses, filthy black hairy pants, dirt under nails, purple period undies sticking out of the top of these pants, and my bloated belly roll hangin out because there's too much pain to worry about it!!! Like I said, a new type of ugly. Black mail pictures could be made by my sons. But then they would be at Oak Park Animal Shelter so fast, they wouldn't be able to shed on our "hair carpet" floor.
I literally layed on our comfortable, big, brown, leather couch aaaaaaaallllll day. I have couch sores. I never knew that was possible. I truly believe our hardwood has a little ditch path from the couch to the restroom. I made no detours.
Since I was a prisoner of my pain and the couch, I celebrated Halloween in a way. I watched snips and clips of all different types of Halloween movies and shows. Why not the whole movie or show? I'm a wimp, always have been, and always will be. I'm not ashamed. I'd start to watch House on a Haunted Hill, and be chill and cool. Then about 30 minutes later there would some type of terrrrrifying ghost with a chip on it's shoulder, and I'd have to change the channel to something more "bambi."
The game plan is to take Halloween down tonight, and put Christmas up before I go to sleep. The Post Man is the beeeeest hubby ever. He entertains me, and allows me to torture him so. I think deep down he enjoys my enthusiasm for the holidays, even if I am a tad bit early. So, the red and green come out of storage, and black and orange away. The Post Man's initial reaction when we worked out this plan yesterday, was: "We are taking down Halloween before the holiday is even here?" Yes. He totally got it. Smart man. I'm soooooooooo lucky.
AND, just in case you didn't know, TWO DAYS LEFT!!! If I had blogged tonight instead, it would be ONE day left. Update: Zara, a kick*$& store that is a mix between Forever 21 and H&M is having their grand opening today, and I my friends and family will be there this weekend. I will lick the fabrics, sniff the air so hard I'll snot, and moleste the clothing so much people will fear me, and allow me to go in the fittingroom before them. I CAN'T WAIT PEOPLE! I CAN'T WAIT! Rock n' roll leggings and jackets, girly sweaters, and hardcore boots....HERE I COME!!!! Stand back witches, stand back, I'M BACK!!
Good day,
Encouraged Shopaholic
Monday, October 26, 2009
Day 56 of 61
Day 56 of 61: Booooooring!
Before I go into how booooored I've been all day, I'd like to take a moment of reflection.
I can't believe it. There is a smile on my face and a peace in my heart. I'm almost finished with this journey. Some would say I'm about to begin the real one on Day 1. But..... I'm not thinking that far yet. I'm relishing the idea and concept that I, Donna Marie Hogg, set forth a challenge, and am soon to conquer that challenge. Fifty-six days ago I would of never thought I would survive two weeks, but I have almost survived two months. My faith has been strengthened, and my appreciation for all of your support has left me a believer. I'm even more ecstatic knowing that your sponser money will be aiding a fantastic charity. (peaceful sigh)
Okay, I need to get a life. I had a day off today, and when I say was boooooooored, it's an understatement. I tried napping. No good. It was boring. I tried Internet surfing. No good. It was boring. I tried watching the tube. No good. It was boring.
I thought about doing laundry, but it sounded complicated and boring. I thought about getting my nails done, but it sounded high maintenance and boring. I thought about getting my hair done, but it sounded risky and boring. I thought about putting up the Christmas tree and decorations, but it sounded life-threatening and semi-boring. I thought about scrap booking, but it sounded draining and boring. I thought about doing my cardio, but it sounded inhumane and boring. I thought about making calls, but it sounded tiring and boring. I thought about baking, but it sounded fattening and boring.
(exhausted sigh) Can I buy a life? Can I shop for "excitement"? Hmmm....I wonder if eBay sells life in a bottle. (doubtful laugh)
I enjoyed the rest though. Healthy, safe, blessed, but bored.
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Before I go into how booooored I've been all day, I'd like to take a moment of reflection.
I can't believe it. There is a smile on my face and a peace in my heart. I'm almost finished with this journey. Some would say I'm about to begin the real one on Day 1. But..... I'm not thinking that far yet. I'm relishing the idea and concept that I, Donna Marie Hogg, set forth a challenge, and am soon to conquer that challenge. Fifty-six days ago I would of never thought I would survive two weeks, but I have almost survived two months. My faith has been strengthened, and my appreciation for all of your support has left me a believer. I'm even more ecstatic knowing that your sponser money will be aiding a fantastic charity. (peaceful sigh)
Okay, I need to get a life. I had a day off today, and when I say was boooooooored, it's an understatement. I tried napping. No good. It was boring. I tried Internet surfing. No good. It was boring. I tried watching the tube. No good. It was boring.
I thought about doing laundry, but it sounded complicated and boring. I thought about getting my nails done, but it sounded high maintenance and boring. I thought about getting my hair done, but it sounded risky and boring. I thought about putting up the Christmas tree and decorations, but it sounded life-threatening and semi-boring. I thought about scrap booking, but it sounded draining and boring. I thought about doing my cardio, but it sounded inhumane and boring. I thought about making calls, but it sounded tiring and boring. I thought about baking, but it sounded fattening and boring.
(exhausted sigh) Can I buy a life? Can I shop for "excitement"? Hmmm....I wonder if eBay sells life in a bottle. (doubtful laugh)
I enjoyed the rest though. Healthy, safe, blessed, but bored.
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Day 52 of 61
Day 52 of 61: Catch-up
I'm soooo exhausted tonight, but I know my audience awaits. Part of my audience texted to remind me that my random nothingness is needed in order to make the world spin on its axis.
(a tired wink, wink)
I know you may be waiting for "Life With The Postman Part II," but if you don't mind, I think I will save that for..... the day after today. I'm so loopy tired, I believe that's called "tomorrow." You got that though.
I more so have energy for random tidbits of catch-up. Below is the tasty morsels of catch-up: (you can lick your fingers after)
1. The Postman and I watched a "Hot Ass Contest" at Navy Pier's Tattoo Expo. There were like nine contestants, and one of them was hysterical! I wish I could put it on YouTube!!
Imagine a woman in her late forties straight out of a rock video from the eighties. This "hot ass" contestant was: 5' 7", thin, blonde hair with FULL BLOWN teased, winged hair!! Her outfit of choice was pegged light acid wash jeans that were high-waisted, a cut-off, sweater tee, that barely was long enough to touch the top of her jeans, and an old-school black eighties belt that was looped through the belt loops. Just her outfit was priceless. Her hair on top of that, sent me in spastic fits of laughter and fear.
WHY? Why, does she think she should parade on a cheap platform like an ex-stripper? Why does she think the audience wants to see visions of their mother doing the bump and grind that even R. Kelly wouldn't approve. WHY? Why didn't she consider that flashbacks of her running her hands seductively through her hair then slowly dropping it like it's hot, would scar many of us for life? WHY? Universe, answer me! The scary part, people love a show. And boy did she give it! Her caressing and crotch bends won her 2nd place. Classy. Classy audience. Classier venue. You won't and I don't recommend you see that every day. The best part, her "daddy" helped her off the stage with one hand like a princess and proudly paraded her off into ....reality. (I can only hope. I'm out to save one life at a time)
2. I'm not single. I'm happily in love. Even then. Even happily in love can't stop me from promoting the absolutely heart-stopping, eye-mesmerizing, mind-stimulating, experience of being a spectator at the Annual Mens Health Urbanathon. Have you been? Awwwwwwwwww. I smile like a geeky school girl. The men. The men are SMOKING! No worries, no worries ladies, the Postman knows this is my entertainment once a year, and willingly allows me to enjoy my eye candy. We giggle about it, make jokes about it, and then I try to get the word out to all the single ladies. Forget bars, lounges, internet sites.....this is tight abs, quarter bouncing butts (more like bounce a quarter and get change of two dimes and a nickel), monster hamstrings with shorts that show it all off, powerhouse calves, and gorgeous faces! GOD BLESS the Mens Health Urbanathon. I wish the whole thing could be taped in slooooow motion. But, the great news amongst my eyes swinging back and forth: Postman did a fabulous job running the twelve mile obstacle course after successfully finishing a full marathon five days previously. Go hubby! You my powerhouse!
3. Almost died. (very little drama injected) At a fancy four star restaurant I almost died on the edamame appetizer. The edamame skin decided to lodge itself in my throat and pitch a tent. Not sexy at a fancy joint. Coughing like a swine flu victim freaks the rich out. I then proceeded to rocket an edamame out of it's shell into the air about 4 feet, almost hitting the table behind us. Not good I say, not good. Last time I was brought into public, I flung a lobster chunk onto a woman's shoulder. I'm so lucky that the Postman continually risks being seen with me.
4. NINE MORE DAYS TIL I HAVE FINISHED THIS 61 DAY COMMITMENT!!! Do a little dance.... make a little love.... get some sleep tonight. Get some sleep tonight! Honest moment: I want to be able to say I'm "recovered," but I think I'll be more like a crazy kid in a candy store on November 1st. Pray for me. With the holidays, I know I'm going to need all the strength prayers I can get.
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
I'm soooo exhausted tonight, but I know my audience awaits. Part of my audience texted to remind me that my random nothingness is needed in order to make the world spin on its axis.
(a tired wink, wink)
I know you may be waiting for "Life With The Postman Part II," but if you don't mind, I think I will save that for..... the day after today. I'm so loopy tired, I believe that's called "tomorrow." You got that though.
I more so have energy for random tidbits of catch-up. Below is the tasty morsels of catch-up: (you can lick your fingers after)
1. The Postman and I watched a "Hot Ass Contest" at Navy Pier's Tattoo Expo. There were like nine contestants, and one of them was hysterical! I wish I could put it on YouTube!!
Imagine a woman in her late forties straight out of a rock video from the eighties. This "hot ass" contestant was: 5' 7", thin, blonde hair with FULL BLOWN teased, winged hair!! Her outfit of choice was pegged light acid wash jeans that were high-waisted, a cut-off, sweater tee, that barely was long enough to touch the top of her jeans, and an old-school black eighties belt that was looped through the belt loops. Just her outfit was priceless. Her hair on top of that, sent me in spastic fits of laughter and fear.
WHY? Why, does she think she should parade on a cheap platform like an ex-stripper? Why does she think the audience wants to see visions of their mother doing the bump and grind that even R. Kelly wouldn't approve. WHY? Why didn't she consider that flashbacks of her running her hands seductively through her hair then slowly dropping it like it's hot, would scar many of us for life? WHY? Universe, answer me! The scary part, people love a show. And boy did she give it! Her caressing and crotch bends won her 2nd place. Classy. Classy audience. Classier venue. You won't and I don't recommend you see that every day. The best part, her "daddy" helped her off the stage with one hand like a princess and proudly paraded her off into ....reality. (I can only hope. I'm out to save one life at a time)
2. I'm not single. I'm happily in love. Even then. Even happily in love can't stop me from promoting the absolutely heart-stopping, eye-mesmerizing, mind-stimulating, experience of being a spectator at the Annual Mens Health Urbanathon. Have you been? Awwwwwwwwww. I smile like a geeky school girl. The men. The men are SMOKING! No worries, no worries ladies, the Postman knows this is my entertainment once a year, and willingly allows me to enjoy my eye candy. We giggle about it, make jokes about it, and then I try to get the word out to all the single ladies. Forget bars, lounges, internet sites.....this is tight abs, quarter bouncing butts (more like bounce a quarter and get change of two dimes and a nickel), monster hamstrings with shorts that show it all off, powerhouse calves, and gorgeous faces! GOD BLESS the Mens Health Urbanathon. I wish the whole thing could be taped in slooooow motion. But, the great news amongst my eyes swinging back and forth: Postman did a fabulous job running the twelve mile obstacle course after successfully finishing a full marathon five days previously. Go hubby! You my powerhouse!
3. Almost died. (very little drama injected) At a fancy four star restaurant I almost died on the edamame appetizer. The edamame skin decided to lodge itself in my throat and pitch a tent. Not sexy at a fancy joint. Coughing like a swine flu victim freaks the rich out. I then proceeded to rocket an edamame out of it's shell into the air about 4 feet, almost hitting the table behind us. Not good I say, not good. Last time I was brought into public, I flung a lobster chunk onto a woman's shoulder. I'm so lucky that the Postman continually risks being seen with me.
4. NINE MORE DAYS TIL I HAVE FINISHED THIS 61 DAY COMMITMENT!!! Do a little dance.... make a little love.... get some sleep tonight. Get some sleep tonight! Honest moment: I want to be able to say I'm "recovered," but I think I'll be more like a crazy kid in a candy store on November 1st. Pray for me. With the holidays, I know I'm going to need all the strength prayers I can get.
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Day 45 of 61
Day 45 of 61: Life with the "Post Man" Part 1. (He deserves at least two)
It has been four and a half glorious years with my boyfriend, aka the "Post Man." His last name is Post, therefore the original nickname. Some of his friends know him as "f*****g Post!" With out the Post Man, this journey of 61 days would be absolutely unbearable. Yet, for some reason I can't deny that life with the Post Man is a journey all of its own.
For example, yesterday morning, He didn't fail to shock or put me into hysterical fits of laughter. Picture this: Loving couple at 7 am in the morning, at a chic, local, family coffee shop. (emphasis on family) We are waiting for our meals, as we relax. Out of nowhere, the following is our conversation:
Post Man: "Babe, what do you think those pictures on the wall are? What do they look like to you?"
Me: "Those ones up there? Um, they are martini glasses." (this is the obvious answer)
Post Man: "Martini glasses? No, they aren't martini glasses, why would there be pictures of martini glasses in here?
Me: "Why what do you think they are?"
Post Man: Birthing canals
Me: "WHAT!?!?!? Birthing canals?"
Post Man: "They're not martini glasses. Gimme me a pen? Do you have one?"
Me: Birthing canals? This is a family place!"
Post Man: "Gimme a pen. Do you have one in your bag?"
Me: "Why? What do you need it for?" (as I reach into my bag, find one, and hand it over to him)
The Post Man then proceeds to grab his napkin and brushes it flat. He then decides to scribble down his vision of a birthing canal. He draws dark circles to resemble his "ovaries." Dark circle here, and at the other side, dark circle here.
Post Man: "See, these are the ovaries." Those pictures are of birthing canals not martini glasses."
I am so0000000 beyond hysterical. I'm crying so ridiculously hard that I'm crying. My eye make-up is smearing, and my stomach hurts from the insane fits of laughter. This is outrageous! A grown, conservative man waiting for his eggs and toast, sees birthing canals. Imagine how creative his imagination would go if a doc showed him ink blots. He'd be admitted.
Post Man: "See."
Me: "See? Your crazy? What man sees birthing canals in a family place?"
I continue to thank him for the perfect blog story. Thank you Post Man. Thank you for the anatomy class at 7 am.
Tune into tomorrow for Life with the Post Man Part II.
Sincerely,
Discouraged Shopaholic
It has been four and a half glorious years with my boyfriend, aka the "Post Man." His last name is Post, therefore the original nickname. Some of his friends know him as "f*****g Post!" With out the Post Man, this journey of 61 days would be absolutely unbearable. Yet, for some reason I can't deny that life with the Post Man is a journey all of its own.
For example, yesterday morning, He didn't fail to shock or put me into hysterical fits of laughter. Picture this: Loving couple at 7 am in the morning, at a chic, local, family coffee shop. (emphasis on family) We are waiting for our meals, as we relax. Out of nowhere, the following is our conversation:
Post Man: "Babe, what do you think those pictures on the wall are? What do they look like to you?"
Me: "Those ones up there? Um, they are martini glasses." (this is the obvious answer)
Post Man: "Martini glasses? No, they aren't martini glasses, why would there be pictures of martini glasses in here?
Me: "Why what do you think they are?"
Post Man: Birthing canals
Me: "WHAT!?!?!? Birthing canals?"
Post Man: "They're not martini glasses. Gimme me a pen? Do you have one?"
Me: Birthing canals? This is a family place!"
Post Man: "Gimme a pen. Do you have one in your bag?"
Me: "Why? What do you need it for?" (as I reach into my bag, find one, and hand it over to him)
The Post Man then proceeds to grab his napkin and brushes it flat. He then decides to scribble down his vision of a birthing canal. He draws dark circles to resemble his "ovaries." Dark circle here, and at the other side, dark circle here.
Post Man: "See, these are the ovaries." Those pictures are of birthing canals not martini glasses."
I am so0000000 beyond hysterical. I'm crying so ridiculously hard that I'm crying. My eye make-up is smearing, and my stomach hurts from the insane fits of laughter. This is outrageous! A grown, conservative man waiting for his eggs and toast, sees birthing canals. Imagine how creative his imagination would go if a doc showed him ink blots. He'd be admitted.
Post Man: "See."
Me: "See? Your crazy? What man sees birthing canals in a family place?"
I continue to thank him for the perfect blog story. Thank you Post Man. Thank you for the anatomy class at 7 am.
Tune into tomorrow for Life with the Post Man Part II.
Sincerely,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Day 43 of 61
Day 43 of 61: Etc.
Random thoughts inside my head today:
1. Oh snap! (that's my fabulosity talk) My boyfriend complimented me on my no shopping skills tonight. Awwww. He notices my effort. It just tickles my insides. I want a trophy. I wonder if he'll get me a trophy that's gold, shiny, heavy, and engraved. Brilliant idea DM, don't forget to throw out a few subtle and not-so-subtle hints. Anyways, smile now mister, because come November 1st, I'm about to go buck wild on the funny farm. Cluck, cluck, moo, moo, baby.
2. Hmmm.... what have I done recently to deserve not having a seat the entire way home on the train? He blesses me everyday and trillion second, BUT I do notice that every time someone gets up to get off, someone else is closer to sitting down. Hmph. I wonder if that "mature" woman with the purple bag would mind if I did a stealth ninja "invisible" move on her, and slid into that seat before her. Or, I wonder if that chick that is in early twenties would fall for a "oooh, Sorry, it's hard to keep my balance, I was just released from the ER last night. Is there anyway I could sit down?" And, I wish everyone would stop staring at my size 28 font size, permanent black marker "Email HQ" message that's scribbled on both of my hands. Please train people, like you can remember everything. You can stare, but don't kid yourself.
3. Why does the love my life have to copy my mad ice cream choosing skills? There is like 16 different signature flavors at Coldstone Creamery, and you just so happen to choose the exact flavor as me. So unoriginal bubba. Cute. But unoriginal.
Okay, enough of random nothingness. (smile) Did you really think I could come up with something meaningful. Remember I promised I'd blog everyday this week? Well, this is what you get. Crap in a bottle.
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Random thoughts inside my head today:
1. Oh snap! (that's my fabulosity talk) My boyfriend complimented me on my no shopping skills tonight. Awwww. He notices my effort. It just tickles my insides. I want a trophy. I wonder if he'll get me a trophy that's gold, shiny, heavy, and engraved. Brilliant idea DM, don't forget to throw out a few subtle and not-so-subtle hints. Anyways, smile now mister, because come November 1st, I'm about to go buck wild on the funny farm. Cluck, cluck, moo, moo, baby.
2. Hmmm.... what have I done recently to deserve not having a seat the entire way home on the train? He blesses me everyday and trillion second, BUT I do notice that every time someone gets up to get off, someone else is closer to sitting down. Hmph. I wonder if that "mature" woman with the purple bag would mind if I did a stealth ninja "invisible" move on her, and slid into that seat before her. Or, I wonder if that chick that is in early twenties would fall for a "oooh, Sorry, it's hard to keep my balance, I was just released from the ER last night. Is there anyway I could sit down?" And, I wish everyone would stop staring at my size 28 font size, permanent black marker "Email HQ" message that's scribbled on both of my hands. Please train people, like you can remember everything. You can stare, but don't kid yourself.
3. Why does the love my life have to copy my mad ice cream choosing skills? There is like 16 different signature flavors at Coldstone Creamery, and you just so happen to choose the exact flavor as me. So unoriginal bubba. Cute. But unoriginal.
Okay, enough of random nothingness. (smile) Did you really think I could come up with something meaningful. Remember I promised I'd blog everyday this week? Well, this is what you get. Crap in a bottle.
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Monday, October 12, 2009
Day 42 of 61
Day 42 of 61: I got this!
Who's the bomb diggity?! I'm the bomb digg-it-tee!! I only have nineteen days left! I get goose bumps just thinking about it. Nineteen more days til shopping ....bliss!!! Lust List 1 and 2, oh yeah....your almost mine!
1,641,600 seconds left til shopping free-dom! I know, I know. Your thinking free-dumb! Relax people. I know what your thinking: I didn't do this to go sixty days, I did it to recover from an addiction. (eyes are rolling) I understand your concern. But, honestly, I need a good spree. Anyways, you have nineteen days to convince me to cool my jets. Good luck.
Exciting news: Da*n time! Godiva has finally gotten with the rest of the sane world, and has realized that the world is against any form of "chocolate", unless it is the only real chocolate, DARK CHOCOLATE. Godiva is officially featuring a limited-edition dark chocolate Halloween and truffle collection. I should be ecstatic, but for some reason I'm annoyed. Why the hell did it take so candy corn long! There is even a dark chocolate ganache skull. Can it possibly get any cooler?
For those of you who wished my boyfriend happy wishes for his marathon yesterday, THANK YOU! It was super exciting to support his amazing accomplishment. He's my hero, but without the tight jumpsuit. Even though he would look sex-ay in a jumpsuit. (wink, wink) It was so cold. Love, that is true love, is defined by how many hours you will stand in freezing cold weather to catch a glimpse of you running by. He swore me to secrecy to not blog about the emotions involved about this subject. So... I won't. But, I wish I could. So, instead I'll just take a moment to say he's the bun to my burger, the pasta to my sauce, the creamer to my coffee.
To enjoy life, is to watch two bananas, a few ballarinas, Elvis, Superman, Dark Vader, Wonderwoman, and your hubby run in short shorts in 20 degree weather for 26.2 miles. You should try it, do it, it's what the cool people are doing.
I promise to blog every day this week. (even though promises are made to be broken)
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
Who's the bomb diggity?! I'm the bomb digg-it-tee!! I only have nineteen days left! I get goose bumps just thinking about it. Nineteen more days til shopping ....bliss!!! Lust List 1 and 2, oh yeah....your almost mine!
1,641,600 seconds left til shopping free-dom! I know, I know. Your thinking free-dumb! Relax people. I know what your thinking: I didn't do this to go sixty days, I did it to recover from an addiction. (eyes are rolling) I understand your concern. But, honestly, I need a good spree. Anyways, you have nineteen days to convince me to cool my jets. Good luck.
Exciting news: Da*n time! Godiva has finally gotten with the rest of the sane world, and has realized that the world is against any form of "chocolate", unless it is the only real chocolate, DARK CHOCOLATE. Godiva is officially featuring a limited-edition dark chocolate Halloween and truffle collection. I should be ecstatic, but for some reason I'm annoyed. Why the hell did it take so candy corn long! There is even a dark chocolate ganache skull. Can it possibly get any cooler?
For those of you who wished my boyfriend happy wishes for his marathon yesterday, THANK YOU! It was super exciting to support his amazing accomplishment. He's my hero, but without the tight jumpsuit. Even though he would look sex-ay in a jumpsuit. (wink, wink) It was so cold. Love, that is true love, is defined by how many hours you will stand in freezing cold weather to catch a glimpse of you running by. He swore me to secrecy to not blog about the emotions involved about this subject. So... I won't. But, I wish I could. So, instead I'll just take a moment to say he's the bun to my burger, the pasta to my sauce, the creamer to my coffee.
To enjoy life, is to watch two bananas, a few ballarinas, Elvis, Superman, Dark Vader, Wonderwoman, and your hubby run in short shorts in 20 degree weather for 26.2 miles. You should try it, do it, it's what the cool people are doing.
I promise to blog every day this week. (even though promises are made to be broken)
Goodnight,
Discouraged Shopaholic
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