I had a good day yesterday. Nonononono. Let me re-phrase. I had a freakingfantastic day yesterday. After recovering from my Wednesday-night-half-bottle-of-wine-while ugly-crying-in-front-of-best-dude debacle, not sleeping, and waking up around 6 am yesterday (withOUT child, mind you), things perked up in a big way.
No, I didn't win the lottery I don't play.
No, Matt Brady didn't profess his undying love for me.
No, I didn't organize my cabinets like Tawna.
No, I didn't magically lose those last pesky 15 lbs.
BUT, friends, my day started with coffee and all of you, mid-day lunch with the hubs, I found the PERFECT pair of jeans (the angels sang), and something happened I can't yet share. Yeah, I'm sneaky like that, but you *heart* me anyway.
Random Fact: I always wear three (sometimes four) black rubber bands around my right wrist. One is for my father's life. The one I didn't get to be much a part of. One is for his death. The one I didn't get to be a part of at all. The third is for the baby I lost last September. The one that will always be a part of me. Occasionally I'll wear a fourth, for its actual use-to put my hair up into a ponytail. Even though the offspring told me I'm not beautiful with my hair up. I think I do it anyway to rebel. Against my 3yo.
Random Fact: This is for Sheri. I was a dancer all my life. Until I hit high school anyway. Elton John wrote an ironic song about me. You might have heard of it. You know, Tiny Dancer. I was the largest effing dancer in every effing class, every effing year. One year we wore two-piece outfits. Oh yeah. It was as flattering as toilet glasses on my face. Wait...
Thanks Elton for making me a freaking sore thumb (as if I wasn't already). Because I was a fattie. Seriously.
Thanks for the feel-up. And right before the weekend! I feel so...so...loved! And special! And appreciated! Wait, you mean I'm *not* supposed to tie my self-respect into these feel-ups? Hmm. I need to have a talk with my therapists. With all the contest biznass goings-on, I know our relationship has suffered, but I promise I'll spend more quality time with you next week. And I promise not to let anyone else feel me up until then (well, I'll try)...
Until then friends, what kind of hobbies did you have growing up? Dancing? Eating? Crying? Hmm. Maybe all those were just me...
Team. Candyland. OUT.