Category Archives: chuckles

Kitty Like: One – Answer

So I’ve started a fun thread called “Kitty Like.” It’s random and silly and hopefully will have more than one installment. If you have ideas, let me know!

Yesterday was Installment #1 of Kitty Like with the following picture:

Here is who I think KITTY ‘looks’ LIKE (drumroll please):

That’s right… Jim Gaffigan.

Tell me I’m wrong. I dare you.

How’d you like the first installment of Kitty Like?


Kitty like: One

Ha… so this might be the only installment I do of this… but, I’m going to post photo’s of cat’s who remind me of a celebrity… then I’ll post the photo of the celebrity they remind me of.

Installment #1

Who does this cat remind you of? Give me guesses… drop them in the comments. I’ll post the answer tomorrow.


Funny: Salad

Just about how I feel about salad…


After Gaff Update

Where the magic that is Jim Gaffigan happened.

Oh. My. God.

I have not laughed so hard IN MY LIFE. Jim Gaffigan’s new tour is hilarious and you MUST go to it. And if you can splurge, get the VIP tickets directly from Jim so you can meet him after the show. He is such a nice and gracious man and I owe him a thousand apologies for the two idiots (me and my besty) who turned into blithering, teenage, ditzes the second he stepped out of his dressing room. I even did a little hop and cried out and clapped my hands together in excitement.

So much for playing it cool and encompassing a general mindset of “celebrities are just regular people, no need to get worked up over them.” Thankfully after I saw him and did my little hop, I managed to reign in an innate urge to rush him and jump up and down while hugging him. Thankfully I pulled my foot back… the one I had poised on the next step ready to rush him. One last fleeting bit of rational thought screamed “DON’T SCARE HIM!” and somehow I managed to NOT run up and grab onto him and sob from the excitement. The rest is a blur of blubbering and gushing and uttering nothing remotely intelligible.

NOW I understand, and have a bit of sympathy towards, the crazy teenage girls who get so worked up over a cute piece of teenage boy that they cry and faint. I wasn’t quite that far gone but it was definitely the next stage.

Since this trip was so much fun my besty and I decided we needed to make it to his next show in our vicinity, probably 2 years down the road… as long as we haven’t frightened him away. We’ve decreed we will be practicing for the next time we meet him and will sound intelligible and be sure to tell him how funny we think he is and how much we loved his show. Yes, even those simple phrases eluded us. Bless Jim, he tried to make conversation with us but we were just so starstruck we couldn’t respond intelligibly.

I wonder how Jim would feel knowing both me and my friend had dreams about him that night. Fabulous, hilarious dreams. Ahhh, Jim. I promise to be charming and utter whole sentences next time. And yes, there WILL be a next time. Hopefully that prospect isn’t horrifying. We’ll bring gifts if that helps…

On the drive home my friend and I were reminiscing and laughing about his show… and at our idiocy. We debated if we would tell the truth about our encounter with him or make up something intelligent. Because we apparently have no shame, we went with the truth. Afterall, you really can’t make stuff like that up. And it’s too funny to not share.

So I had a fabulous mini vacay and came home and promptly got sick. Sinus junk struck and I spent the rest of the week in bed. So that honestly threw off the rest of the week. Who gives a rip about good food and fitness when they’re leaking out of every hole in their head? So trying to get back on track now. I’m still run down from the illness but I think I’ve reached that point where I need to get up, shake the cobwebs off, and press on… there comes a point where that IS the best medicine. So back to the no sugar and mostly primal eating.

By the way… decided I suck at plunging into things so am revising my Nerd Fitness challenge to not eating sugar and exercising/moving 3 times a week. That seems a little more manageable. After I get the sugar thing back in line (did awesome for about 8 days and then got sick and was like “EFF IT”) then I’ll focus on limiting the other stuff, like grains and pizza. While getting the no sugar thing in line I’ll also be reaching for more nutritious fare and keep my paws off starchier stuff like potatoes or, you know, pizza… won’t sweat it if I have a serving a day though. I’m finding I succeed better doing the baby steps approach. So instead of trying to go all in, and demanding perfection I’m going to baby step it and just try to do a little bit better every day. Way less overwhelming for me.

Alright, enough blathering from me. Oh wait… if you like Jim Gaffigan, he’s going to be releasing his new show Mr. Universe on his website on April 11th. It will be available for download for, get this, $5 dollars. That is so freaking cheap! So I’m going to be there downloading it and you should too, especially since he’s going to donate $1 for each purchase to The Bob Woodruff Foundation to aid injured veterans and their families. What is not to love about that? SERIOUSLY AWESOME DUDE!


Bad Diet?

So last week a friend recounted a discussion she was having with a mutual coworker. A separate coworker had just had her appendix removed the week prior and my friend and my coworker were chatting about other useless stuff in our bodies.

Coworker: Wouldn’t it be nice to know what useless stuff we could remove from our bodies to drop weight?
Friend: Yeah! And especially to know the weight of each thing and target the heaviest in order to drop the most weight!
Coworker: lasdkjfojkjdalfkjdofjoijdf (all I heard of this part of the retelling was the teacher from Charlie Brown “whaa wha wha whaaa wa wa wa wa wah… Me. Easily distracted folks.)

At this point let me interrupt and mention that we work in a cubicle environment so this conversation is by no means private. Let me also add we have a lot of smart alec’s on staff.

Friend: What could I remove that would help me drop the most weight?
Smart Alec Coworkers Piping Up From Behind His Fabric Wall And Using a Very Wry Tone:

Your refrigerator?

I laughed HYSTERICALLY thinking “well done smart ass.” My friend was laughing too but also wanted to maim said smart ass. But she had to admit it was too fitting and timed perfectly. We appreciate some good smart alec quips.

Anyway, I share this because it reminds me of the saying “You can’t out-train a bad diet.” If you’re a health and fitness nut you’ve likely heard it said that diet is around 80-90% of the battle. Training is only a small fraction of the equation.

I think there’s different buy in for everyone, food may only be 50% of the equation for some (lucky bastards), but still, food matters. The better nutrition we give our bodies, the better it will take care of us.

This is a lesson I’m still learning.

And now I have the lazy teenager in me insisting that I shouldn’t train until I have my diet figured out. WRONG. Go pop a zit or something unwelcome annoyance.

So what am I going to do today to better care for my body? Is food a problem for you too? Do you have a zit covered, lazy teenager vedging in you?


Have You Seen My Mojo?

In an earlier post I brought up the move-in with my folks at the age of 33. So I thought I’d take this moment to wade into those waters for a bit. Get out your floaties girls and boys.

Why did I do this? Three main reasons…two very closely related.

  1. Finances. Living is getting crazy expensive lately.
  2. Health problems. It turned out this was actually a minor health problem but at the time I was freaked and didn’t want to be alone. Which brings us to…
  3. I’m tired of being on my own.

I’m a young, relatively successful, single girl with a huge independent streak. But after 10 years of going it alone, I ran out of the required bravado. I’m referring to it as losing my mojo… that thing, whatever it was, that gave me the gumption to stand strong and independent while everyone around me was or became coupled.

So I’ve returned to the nest to rediscover my mojo. Of course, this living situation really crimps a few things. There’s much less privacy, more intrusion/nosiness from my folks, no dates coming back to the house (not really an issue anyway since there’s a boyfriend 3 hours away), and it’s awkward having friends over. I’ve also discovered the people who say that your parents regress to children as they age weren’t kidding (see example below).

But my folks place is a safe landing while I figure out the next steps in my life and rediscover my mojo. And I’m thankful for them. Really. Besides, a person can endure about anything if it’s temporary. Even parents. Right?

So I’m going to wring every opportunity out of this that I can. And the name of this blog is too fitting for this stage in my life. Pick up my mat. If that wasn’t a load of foreshadowing those many years ago when I picked the name, I don’t know what was.

Lucky for you (or maybe not so), while I’m learning to pick up my mat and walk again, I’ll bring you funny stories about my parents regression back to childhood. Here is installment #1…

Immature Parental Unit Experience: #1

My mom was making supper one evening and was experimenting with a sweet and sour pork chop recipe (I don’t recommend it) and somewhere in the course of her telling me what she was making that evening she said (uncertain about the recipe’s appeal) “well your dad doesn’t like pork chops.”

I was like Scooby Do going “wha?” We must have eaten pork chops every other week growing up so my dad not liking pork chops was a revelation to me.

My dad happened to be right in the kitchen when she said this and he asked “I d

on’t?” Apparently he wasn’t aware of this aversion either.

I don’t really remember what was said after that but soon we were all gathered around the dinner table

eating and my dad didn’t take any pork chops. Either I or my mom pointed it out and he says rather snottily, “Well I guess I don’t like pork chops.”

And. He. REFUSED. To. Eat. ONE. REFUSED!

He also pouted the rest of the night since he didn’t get any meat with his supper… even though it was his fault he didn’t eat any meat.

So my mom is re-imagining my dad’s taste buds and my dad is embodying an 8 year old. Good times.

Good. Times.

Have you returned to the parental nest after many years of independence? Are your parents regressing? Have you seen my mojo?