Flashback Friday: Be Cool, Alright?

I’m re-blogging this post for #fbf, because I almost wrecked my diet the other day with Boston Market Cinnamon Apples and mashed potatoes. Like, it was so.close. Too close. As in, I circled the whole of Boston Market five times, drooling, staring, frothing at the mouth. I can never be seen there again. So, I’ll just live vicariously through my past foodscapades. Is it bad that this post doesn’t make me feel shameful, but hungry for macaroni and cheese, and nostalgic for my bacon grease sweats? 

Dear Boston Market Yeller, 

My boyfriend and I visited your establishment this past Saturday, around 6:00 PM. You greeted us by yelling, “Welcome to Boston Market. What can I help you with?” from behind the counter, at least 15 feet away, before we were even in the door. While the gesture was, thoughtful, semi-courteous, it was a little overwhelming, as every single individual in the restaurant turned to watch us come in. I’m sure realizing it wasn’t the Queen of England entering, but a couple in their fat pants, was quite disappointing. Had I known I would have been welcomed so warmly, I would have worn a more supportive bra and my fancy sweats, the ones without paint and bacon grease stains. 

I want to say I appreciate your tenacity, but it just came off as abrasive. My boyfriend and I ordered the meal for 3, and we really didn’t appreciate your need to repeat this fact no less than 10 times to your coworkers and what appeared to be the lady behind us. Yes, we were two people ordering the meal designed for three people. We had on elastic pants, was that not evidence enough that we were planning on eating heartily? Also, I would like to point out that it was highly probable that we had an adult or two waiting at home. We could have been being thrifty and mindful of our diets. This could have easily been the case. It wasn’t, but it could have been. 

Furthermore, we were taken aback by your method of checking customers out. Instead of doing it yourself, you yelled our order, repeatedly, across the entire kitchen to the young man, who must have been hard of hearing, because Sparks heard what we had for dinner, while he didn’t. After the 3rd time this young man had to ask you to repeat yourself, perhaps it was time to just take over. I’m so glad that our choices, the most fattening sides possible, were repeated for all to hear. Just for future reference, when two people come in, in oversized sweatshirts and they don’t take off their sunglasses, they would like their poor life choices kept between you and them, not shared with the entire restaurant. 

I am only writing this letter to you because you have potential. The passion you have for your product is evident, but I would suggest you work on your voice level and tact. You have zero tact. None. I would like to assume that most people visiting a Boston Market have serious plans of wrecking their diets. These people are already low, don’t assist them with their impending demise. Do you want to be an accessory for death by cookie dough? I don’t think so. Just be cool, alright? Sheesh. 

Signed, 
The Couple Who Bought a Meal For Three, and Ate It ALLLLLL 

***As an aside…

If hearing…
“Mashed with gravy, Mac and cheese, and cinnamon apples for THREE!”

“How many?” 

“THREE!”

“You said, mashed, apples, and spinach?” 

NO, mashed potatoes, gravy, MACARONI AND CHEESE, and cinnamon apples!” 

OK, I think I got it. And that was the meal for three?”

YES, the meal for three”

….doesn’t make you want to reevaluate your life, I don’t know what will. It’s time for a change. My “last resort” pants are tight and I’m certain my fat is trying to suffocate me in my sleep. Help. 

Flashback Friday: Bike Seats and Fannies of Steel

I almost forgot to post a #FBF post, so this one is coming to you late. It is almost time to dust off the old bike that I have used a total of five times. I can’t wait for the spring-I-am-totally-riding-my-bike-this-year-except-that-is-a-boldface-lie-season. Whoohoo! 

While living in Elko, I tried various workout classes and regimens, for no other reason than there was literally nothing else better to do. I did Pilates for nearly two years (yup, this fatty). I took a weights class in the old high school gym. I tried Zumba numerous times, despite being a spastic with no rhythm.  I took a Body Pump class and very nearly died. Lastly, I took one kettle bells class, and almost knocked the instructor out cold (whoever thought swinging heavy metal balls between between your legs was a good idea, anyway?). Despite my utter failures with fitness, I wasn’t giving up. I had yet to do spinning. 

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WTF Wednesdays #6

I’m going to start out this WTFW with a haiku:

House hunting sucks balls

All I can afford are dumps 

Ghetto life, here I come 

I have never in my life written a haiku. Even when we had to write them in high school, I somehow got out of doing it. I really don’t enjoy poetry, nor am I good at it. However, this was quite therapeutic. I rather enjoyed it. Thank you, Traci York and your Coffee Haikus. You inspired me to get creative and write my own haiku based on the fabulous house hunting experience I’ve had thus far. 

Don’t get me wrong. I love, like, LURVE looking at homes. In fact, I’ve spent more weekends driving around looking for open house signs in my favorite part of town than I’d care to admit. I’ve whiled away hours looking at homes online, hoping, dreaming. 

My absolute favorite part of this whole process of looking for a house to buy was getting to look at potential homes, Starbucks in hand, paint color ideas swirling in my brain. It’s legit one of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday. 

However, I’ve grown to not like the part where most of the nice homes I’ve looked at are, in fact, over budget (I don’t even want to get into how that happened). So, now, my potential homes are really quite stressful and disappointing to view. 

Some I haven’t even stepped foot in, because the overwhelming scent of cat urine almost knocked me out. Some I was afraid of contracting some disease from, because they were nasty enough for an episode of Hoarders. Some had boarded up doors, falling down kitchen cabinets, and enough dirt on the baseboards to build a baseball diamond. It blows my mind how people don’t feel the need to, at the very least, vacuum up the stale chip crumbs and nail clippings when they know their home will be viewed by potential buyers. It’s just disgusting and shockingly eye-opening to see how some people live. 

It’s almost comical. I mean, I would laugh if I wasn’t racing the clock, trying to find an affordable home, where I might not get shot in a drive by in, before a very generous teacher grant of $10,000 runs out. Yes, right now, in the state of Nevada, teachers can take advantage of a $10,000 grant to use on a new home and a lower interest rate.

So, here I am, looking to buy when the time is right to sell, so I can take advantage of the only way I’ll have a sizable down payment. 

When this whole process began, I knew I’d have to leave my beloved neighborhood, as the home prices have been off the charts expensive for a long time, because it’s a very hip area that’s being revitalized. 

So, I knew that. 

In the beginning, I refused to look anywhere outside of a very select “second best” group of neighborhoods. Once I realized that homes that used to be exactly in my price range, were now out of reach, I begrudgingly allowed my search criteria to be wider spread. 

That was just the beginning of the madness that is now my reality. 

At this point in the game, the only place that’s off limits is our pride and joy, the world renowned “Largest Trailer Park in America”. It may or may not be factual, but there is a community just north of Reno that has been called this for years by locals. 

No offense to anyone living there, as I’m sure it’s lovely, but I don’t wanna live there.

I’ve succumbed, in utter loss of any other options, to areas that I used to be dead set on never considering, due to commute, safety, and pride. 

This tiny home is only $80k, but it’s a no-go, because it doesn’t qualify for an FHA loan. This is likely due to it not passing some inspection. My guess is that it was used for a meth lab and there’s massive damage due to an explosion not showing in the image. Or, maybe, the floor is dug up, because some serial killer buried bodies there. Despite it being in a very undesirable location, and Google street view tells me the neighbors like to collect old appliances, I keep going to back to the listing. It has a certain charm.  

When I first saw this listing, I legit thought that what was on the roof was a stroller. Upon further inspection, it is actually, in fact, Santa and Mrs. Claus riding a lawnmower. The listing says that the junk around the home may or not be leaving with the current tenants. I really hope they decide to leave the rolling food cart. I have a cute crafting idea for it. 


This next one is a foreclosure, selling for $85k. It’s a whopping 336 square feet. What a steal. And, since it’s a foreclosure, the previous residents have probably started the remodeling process for me, with holes in the walls and bashed in appliances. This one is a forerunner.  

You’re gonna poop your pants on this next one. I even looked at a condo, with wall-to-wall neighbors *shudders*, in my least favorite location in town. That’s not even the kicker. You ready for this? One of the pictures has an orb in it. 

I looked at a property, knowing that it is most certainly haunted. 

Someone call a head doctor. Stat. 


This condo was actually really well taken care of, had a high-end, front-loading washer and dryer, and more than one bathroom, but it also comes with the spirit of a previous tenant. 

Nope. 

I’ve even looked at homes just down the street from my school. 

I love my students and all, but I see them all day, five days a week. I don’t need them knowing where I live, or to risk seeing them at a grocery store, while I’m buying a box of wine in my weekend apparel that usually consists of no bra, hole-y sweats, and my Zero 🦊 Given shirt. 

Just no.

So, as it stands, The Haunting is the property with the most potential, but I’m not convinced it’s a smart investment to purchase a condo in a less than ideal location. And, despite loving the show Paranormal Witness, I really don’t want to be a sad tale that people watch, thinking, “Thank God that’s not me!” 

The search continues. 

I’m really not that big of a snob. A true snob wouldn’t have thought twice about some of the properties I’ve added to my “favorites” folder on MLS before deleting them, and calling their realtor for a reminder on what’s acceptable and what’s not. So there. 

WTF Wednesday #5

Just me and my best friend (not a random dog I borrowed to snap a pic for Instagram).


As many of my followers know, I’m on the hunt for a house. I couldn’t have chosen the absolute worst time to do that, too. It’s a seller’s market in my area, and home prices are climbing to new heights. Homes that would have been right up my monetary alley are not even within reach. 

Probably you’re wondering, “Then, why are you choosing to buy right now, dumbass?”

Well, it’s simple. I’m sick and tired of paying someone else’s mortgage. I’m sick of having to share the communal laundry area in the basement that reeks of weed and stroganoff. I’m sick of forgetting to get quarters to do said laundry. I’m sick of not having a garden I can swear I’m going to use for planting an herb garden, but I’ll likely neglect. I’m sick of not having private outdoor space that I never use, but it’s there if I ever do decide to enjoy some fresh Reno cigarette air. Most of all, I’m sick of not having a dog.

I’ve had more people than is even reasonable who respond to that desire in a way that would insinuate that I’m not “ready” for that responsibility. Maybe they are just putting a really rude spin on the classic, “There, there. It’ll happen in time.” Either way, it pisses me the hell off. 

First, I’m 34-fucking-years-old. Sure, I can’t keep a house plant alive to save my life, but an animal is completely different.

Second, I could have gotten a dog like other irresponsible college kids do when I was young, living in a cramped apartment, and I sometimes couldn’t even afford to feed myself, but I didn’t. I didn’t because I knew that kind of lifestyle and my idiocy was not fair to any animal. 

Third, who are you, the Everything You Could Possibly Know About Dogs expert? Who says you’re the best dog mom/dad ever? I know you feed your dog expired hot dogs and clearance tinned cat food in secret. That organic dog food you made and posted on Instagram happened once. Three years ago. Sit down. 

Lastly, needing/wanting a dog in your life is almost as legit as the need to have a child. It’s all about the biological need for a woman to nurture something. 

Maybe it seems silly to you, but I was born with puppy ovaries. I yearn for a furry, milk-breathed baby. I need something to love and care for. Since I’m not planning on having human children, my desire for a puppy feels legit to me. 

Don’t belittle that desire, because it seems silly to you. 

Might I remind you again that I’m well into my adult years, I am responsible for 20 human lives on a daily basis, and I’m pretty damn dependable. 

Quit acting like I don’t know what kind of huge responsibility it is to have a dog. 

Just stop.

So, the search continues for a non-crack den house that’s crack-den-cheap so I can have a dog. Keep your eyes peeled for my next WTF Wednesday, which will likely be on the myriad options I have for housing (hint: I’m being sarcastic, and most of my options come on wheels).

Tell me: Has anyone made you feel like you were too inept for a dog, or even a houseplant? Let me know in the comments. 

My dog cousin, Pepper. She was cold. See? I know what to do.

WTF Wednesday #3

For this installment of WTFW, I’m coming at you with a rant. Brace yourselves, people. It’s gonna be a doozy.
I don’t even care how lame this rant makes me seem. So, I’ll just come out and say it: WTF is so hard about hitting “like”? 

Now, if you literally don’t like a post/page/status update, if you’re offended by it, if it displeases you, then, by all means, keep scrolling. 

But, what could possibly be offensive or displeasing about a Michael Scott meme? Or, a humorous and relatable tale of woe? Or, my EFFING FB BLOG PAGE? 

I have almost 400 Facebook friends. I have 180 some likes on my Fatty McCupcakes page and the majority of those likes are from the good people of WordPress. 

I just can’t even anymore. 

This is why I think it’s just plain salty to not have “liked” my blog page when you’re a personal friend of mine:

1. What happened to supporting your friends in their personal interests and ventures?

2. I’m not overly offensive. 99% of the time I’m making fun of myself, people.

3. Hitting “like” takes you, literally, a fucking nanosecond.

4. I rarely even post on my page, so you wouldn’t be inundated with crap daily. Only recently have I been actively publishing post updates.

5. Whether you like it or not, social media is how the majority of the world communicates. Thus, not liking my blog page after I’ve politely invited you is like ignoring me when I wave at you on the street. I think it’s rude. 

6. Don’t even try to lie and say you’re busy and it slipped your mind. I know you’re laying on your couch, binge watching Japanese panda videos on Facebook. Don’t even give me the “I’m busy and too important” speech. 

Now, I would understand if the majority of the topics I posted was on the furry fandom, or my blog was called The Freed Nipple and The Unleashed Vagina, but NOPE. And, nope. 

So, why the lack of support? 

Maybe if those 350 friends knew how much it would mean to me for them to take 20 seconds out of their life to show support in the form of pressing down on (while not even needing to look) a square millimeter space on their phone, while they watch Gilmore Girls reruns, it’d be different. 

But, I’m not about to act like I need the likes. 

It’s just the damn principle of the matter. 

Like Karl Pilkington, I have a lot of important things to say. You’re missing out when you don’t hit “like”.


On the same topic, has anyone else noticed that you are now able to see how many people saw your post on Facebook? 

I’m part of a mom group (don’t even ask how that came to be) and the moms post hilarious memes and real life experiences that always make my ovaries shrivel up on the spot (I have magical, regenerating ovaries). Many times, these harried moms, just looking for recognition, get a dismal five likes when 85 people viewed their post.

You already saw it. You viewed it. YOU LOOKED. 

You seriously can’t hit “like” and THEN be on your merry way?!

Why is this even bothering me? 

OMG. 

My eye is twitching and I can feel the blood pulsing in my temples. 

I think I’ll go now, before I have an aneurism. 

What annoys you about the world of social media and blogging? Rant away in the comments. I promise I won’t just glance at your comment, without responding, before I continue my über important creeping of random people’s Facebook pages. 

Clever Chic Collective, Vol. II

I am so excited to announce that I’m a part of the Clever Chic Collective. What is that you ask? Well, it’s only a blogger collective made up of the cleverest, most creative, and amazeballs lady bloggers ever (am I still chic if I use the word ‘amazeballs’?).

I was so incredibly honored to be asked to contribute to this collective, and I can’t wait to introduce you to the women making waves in the blogging community.

Keep your eyes peeled as we bring you some of our best posts every Tuesday.

#girlpower

Today, we are pleased to announce new additions to our blogger collective, The Clever Chic Collective!  An Historian About Town, Mosaicca, and The Unabridged Sass plus Currently, Lately; PT Contender, Fatty McCupcakes, and How Do I Grown Up are collaborating to bring you the best posts from each of us.

For our second collective, we decided on the theme of community and friendship in order to represent the new additions to the group.

An Historian About Town

Blogging is all about community for me, and so is most of my life! One of the big reason I joined Alpha Gamma Delta, my sorority, is for the community and sisterhood. I am an alumna member, I serve as an advisor to two chapters and I am president of our alumnae group! Even though I was never a stereotypical Greek that most people picture, Alpha Gamma Delta is my base and provides more support and encouragement then I could ever imagine.

Junior Circle is our alumnae group, it’s for young alumnae to stay connected and maintain our sisterhood! We are quite a small group (only seven us), but the support I have there is unmatched. This is one of my favourite posts, where we visited the North Dakota State University ΑΓΔ chapter for International Reunion Day. I had never met these women, but they embraced us as sisters and friends- a wonderful community!

Junior Circle Roadtrip: Beta Beta’s IRD!

Until tomorrow,
The Historian!

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Mosaicca

When we decided upon the theme of community for this week’s collective post, I was honestly at a loss for what to link. I’ve never written a post specifically about friendship, per se. However, I realized how much community has meant to me in the marathons I run. Even though I run alone, every race I have done has attracted members of the community out to cheer us on, hand out Gatorade and snacks, play music, give high-fives, whatever! With that in mind, I decided to link to my review of my first full marathon, where I talk a lot about how wonderful the spectators were for support.

Here is my post!

Until next time,

xoxo Charlotte

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The Unabridged Sass

The theme of community is truly the perfect one for this week, as it represents the new additions to our little collective! Each and every one of the ladies involved in this collective are unique and truly extraordinary.

I’ll be honest and say that I immediately thought of friendship, and struggled to choose the perfect post for this week. And then, I thought of a very special post that perfectly represented friendship.

One of my best friends, Stephon, has always been there for me. I blogged about his wedding day and his engagement on my blog, but I think the perfect depiction of friendship is how he took me on a “friend date” when I was down in the dumps, as I wrote about in this post. Sometimes, you don’t need a whole village to cheer you up but rather just one really amazing friend.

Chrissey

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Currently, Lately

To me, community and friendship represent communication. Every day we use language to express our thoughts and ideas to other people. It is amazing how much we can share through the power of words. But not every instance of communication is a positive one. Sometimes we are forced to handle social situations that give us anxiety. For me, this often comes in the form of public speaking. A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about how I handle public speaking and the stress that it causes. Hopefully it can be helpful to anyone who feels the same way.

Sincerely,

Paige

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PT Contender

As far as community goes, I’d like to look at it on a deeper level: the inner circle. It’s the foundation we all build our own personal communities upon, and mine is all about Influence, Standards, and Courage. I think of community, and it brings to mind so many things…like community kickball drinking leagues [sidenote] If your town has one of these DO IT, you won’t regret it. I did this a couple years ago and it’s a great way to make new friends & also sneak in some exercise during the week!

Anyway, I recently wrote this post: Exclusivity & My Inner Circle, because it is HUGE. It can make or break you! Call me dramatic, call me Emily Gilmore, but I truly believe in keeping my inner circle insanely & unapologetically exclusive.

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Fatty McCupcakes

When I first heard that we would be focusing on community this week, I immediately thought friendship. As adults, we are at liberty to create our own little communities of support, love, and, in my case, lots of laughs. The communities of friends that I’ve built have shaped me into who I am today-as cliché and barfy as it sounds. This week, my first week collaborating with this fabulous league of ladies, I decided to link to my Memories post. It is a re-post from my first attempt at blogging, and is about sweet freedom, my first apartment, and my best friends during college. I hope you enjoy!

Love and Cupcakes,

Fatty

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It’s All About Yours Truly 

I was tagged by The Gay Stepdad in his Get to Know Me post. He listed me as a blogger he’d like to get to know more. I hope he knows what he has done, because I’m a massive over-sharer. Ya’ll ready for this? Brace yourselves. Hold onto your socks. Maybe, use the restroom first, because this is gonna get weird. Actually, it’s probably going to be boring, but I don’t have my other posts ready to publish yet. So, sorry not sorry. 

1. Who are you named after? 

Oh boy. Are ya’ll ready for some complicated shit? So, I’m named after my maternal and paternal grandmothers. Here’s where it gets fun. My “actual” name is Dorothy Catherine. Not once have I ever gone by Dorothy. Not once. My parents never even intended on calling me Dorothy, but they did intend on calling me Katie. However, they wanted to honor my mother’s mother first and foremost. So, instead of making it simple by calling me Catherine Dorothy (making the name “Katie” make more sense) they decided to stick with Dorothy Catherine “Katie”. I know. 

Every first day of school was a nightmare. When I got to middle school, I had to explain the convoluted way my name ended up as Katie eight different times in the course of one day. 

Thanks, Mom and Dad. 

2. Do you like your handwriting?

My handwriting changes depending on the day, the writing utensil I’m using, the surface I’m writing on, and my mood. I like my handwriting on the 82,567 anchor charts I have in my classroom, so I’d say I’m pretty happy. Dang, I don’t know how I’d sleep at night if my handwriting looked like crap and I had to see it all day long, on every wall and surface. What a potential nightmare that’d be! 

3. What is your favorite lunch meat?

I know you all have wanted to know the answer to this particular question for some time. As much as I’d like to share, I feel this is an incredibly personal question that only my boyfriend should know. 

Oh, I misread this question. 

Salami.

4. Longest relationship? 

Seven Years’ War. It ended in a battle wherein I almost cut an 18 year-old midget and her bearded fool. It wasn’t a pleasant time in history. 

5. Do you still have your tonsils?

Yes, and if I wasn’t such a scaredy cat who needs her voice for her career, I’d get  them removed by choice. Why you ask? Well, sometimes I get those nasty tonsil stones that smell like death. When I first got one, I put it in bag; made an appointment with an ear, nose, and throat doctor; and spent the day mentally drafting my will, convinced I was dying. 

#poopchunkssuck*

6. Would you bungee jump? 

Hell to the I’d-shit-my-pants-NOPE. 

7. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

Actually, yes. Most of my shoes don’t just slide off of my fat feet. It’s one of the many inconveniences of being plump. Also, I dare anyone to just slip off Converse. It ain’t happening. 

8. Favorite ice cream?

OH SNAP. Where do I even start? When I’m feeling naughty, a good cake batter ice cream with an icing ribbon and cake pieces is the only thing that will do. If I feel like I need to tone it down a bit, I am all about TruWhip and rainbow sprinkles. SHIT. I need some now. 

9. What is the first thing you notice about people? 

I’m going to break this down by sexes. The first thing I notice about women is their eyebrows. If their eyebrows are not on point, I judge the hell out of them. Every other YouTube video is an eyebrow tutorial. Get with the program. 

Is that bad? 

The first thing I notice about men is their height. When a man is really short, I always wonder how they feel about that. Like, are they insecure about it? Do they only like women smaller than them or are they into being the small spoon? Clearly, these are important questions. 

10. Football or baseball? 


Source

Baseball too…

11. What color pants are you wearing? 

Wouldn’t you like to know? Actually, I’m wearing my black leggings with the holes in the inner thigh area. It’s laundry day. 

12. Last thing you ate?

Oh, man…

Well, I ate a bowl of cereal. Only, it wasn’t with milk, but TruWhip. And, instead of cereal, there were sprinkles. It’s kind of like cereal, if you think about it. 

This is TruWhip:


13. If you were a crayon what color would you be?

“Black is ‘Slimming'”

14. Favorite smell?

Baking bread. A fresh bottle of wine. Lavender. 

15. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone?

I try never to answer my phone. I also try to send an email whenever possible. Despite this, I still had to call to get a refill on my Xanax. It’s that kind of year.

16. Hair color? 

A little bit of brown. A little bit of balayage blond. A little bit of bastard gray. 

17. Eye color?

Baby blue, baby. 

18. Favorite foods to eat?

I really don’t have enough battery on my phone to answer this question. Let me just make it easier by saying: all the foods, except lima beans. 

19. Scary movies or happy endings? 

Happy endings? I think you mean chick flicks or feel good movies, because happy endings are strictly XXX and I’m not about that life. 

I like all movies, except Oscar-nominated flicks. Blech. 

20. Last movie you watched? 

I actually got The Arrival from Redbox Friday night. It was too boring and slow for me. I didn’t even finish it. I also forgot to return it until today, so I’m basically winning at life. 

21. Favorite holiday? 

ERMAGERD CHERSMERSE (you have to say it out loud). 

22. Beer or wine? 

Both. A lot of both. 

23. Night owl or early bird? 

I’m a teacher. I haven’t seen 11 o’clock in years. 

24. Favorite day of the week? 

Friday. I love me some Friday so much. 

24 1/2: Which three of your favorite bloggers do you want to know more about? 

BlairAn Historian About Town, and Charlotte 
25. Who were the latest three people to follow your blog (link to their about page)?

Jennifer’s Kitchen Blog

Traci York

Old House in the Shires

*My friend Alyssa describes her hubby’s tonsil stones as “poop chunks”. This is such an appropriate name, so it’s what I call those foul creatures now, too. 

Unbeknownst to me, this tag was started by Stomper Dad. Go give him some love! 

A Day in the Life of Fatty

Taking a cue from one of my most favorite bloggers, Charlotte, I decided to take part in a “photo an hour” post. Of course, this will be a glimpse into the life of a fatty, not a beautiful, professionally photographed portrayal of someone anyone would be envious of.

So, you’ve been warned. 

Today is the perfect day to do this as school was cancelled due to possible flooding. This means that the opportunities to get into some serious fatty predicaments are positively endless.

Let’s see what I ate (did):


My morning started as it always does, fancy-ing up my fat. This morning, however, I got to sleep in as it began as a two hour delayed start! So, this was around 8 AM. 


I was really looking forward to wearing this bad boy to school, but the school district called a “flood day”. I was already dressed, and since my shirt rings true anywhere I go, I kept it on. This was taken around 9 AM as I headed to my favorite coffee/bakery/ultimate temptation shop. 


Because cookies are a perfectly good breakfast food. I was still hanging out, blogging, eating endlessly, and using their WIFI at 10 AM. 


I left around 11, because coffee makes me have to poop. I warned you this was going to get real. 


When I got home, I checked the mail (this is real riveting stuff. Are you at the edge of your seat right about now?). To my delight, the mailbox wasn’t just full of bullshit don’t-bend-card-inside-just-kidding-made-ya-look mail. I got a Valentine from both my mom and my aunt. My mom knows how much my boyfriend and I like vintage stuff, so she sent two adorable cards from what looks like the 50s. 


I decided to take advantage of today’s free day off instead of what I did last time. Last “snow day” I accomplished taking a nap and eating us out of house and home. So, I started the bajillions of laundry loads that always await me on the weekend. Three of those loads are merely comprised of sheets. I.hate.laundry.so.fucking.much. 


Pizza Pringles are what all mature, physically fit, health conscious adult women buy and eat for lunch. (Spoiler alert: I’m not eating a real lunch so that I can be extra hungry for Texas Roadhouse later. An entire cylinder of Pringles is practically nothing). 


I got caught open-mouthed napping. As you can see by the bottom right photo, someone almost got cut. Laundry, bed making, and eating way too many Pringles left me flat-out spent. 


After I was so rudely disturbed during my beauty sleep, I decided to be productive and put the clean dishes away. Can you see that I’m just a walking cliche? 


Because I’ve had Typhoid Fever for a week now, I made myself some delicious herbal tea with Coffeemate coconut-flavored creamer. I know how to make literally anything unhealthy. If you ever need any help with that, I’m your gal! 


At this point in my day, I’m positively famished. Like the fatty geriatrics that we are, we left for dinner at precisely 4:27 PM. My fat pants were practically falling off of me after my agonizing fast. 


What I had dreamed about and waited for all day. There’s really nothing more that needs to be said.


My boyfriend was positively appalled that I would sneak hot, buttered biscuits out in my purse, stuffed inside of a student loan bill. I thought it was entirely apropos and ingenious. 


Just taking a little peek to see if these naughty things want to come out to play. 

And…I think that’s a wrap, folks.

If this taught me anything, it’s that I have a really fucking boring life. I need to start going to the gym or something. Good gracious. 

The Happy Teacher Challenge

A couple weekends ago, my teacher friend and I engaged in a fun day of learning on a Saturday. I had to get up at 6:30 on a Saturday and had to put on a bra and makeup on my day off. I totally did not have a shot of whiskey in my coffee or a super sugary filled donut for breakfast. 

One of the break out sessions we signed up for was all about Social Emotional Learning for the educator. They sold the class like we would learn skills to feed our souls and regenerate our purpose. 

Pretty quickly, we called bullshit. 

After reading an article that stated my teacher burnout was due to my low social emotional intelligence, I pretty much mentally checked out.  

At the end of the session, we were handed a gorgeous color copy (you know you’re a teacher when a piece of paper has more value solely due to it being printed in color) of The 30 Day Happy Teacher Challenge. 

We looked at each other like, “Holy shit, yes!” 

We both need more happiness in our lives in regards to our school year, so we were so down for the challenge. 

That is, until we actually read the “challenges”. 

Double lame with some “fuck that” sprinkled on top is what this challenge consisted of. 

Most of the “challenges” are things I do every single day, because they are what good teachers, who have a solid pedagogy, do. And, some of them, like assigning an exit ticket (one or two questions to gauge understanding) depress the ever-loving crap out of me a lot of the time.  

When we saw, “Happy Teacher Challenge”, we both thought it had to involve alcohol, days off, and lots of chocolate. Not one of those things are included. 

For shame.

Here’s the challenge:


I blurred out the copyright name, because I don’t want to shame this teacher. I’m sure they meant well, but, well, just, no. 

So, after being utterly disappointed and underwhelmed, I decided to make my own “Happy Teacher Challenge”. 

In case there are any fuddy-duddies reading this, or people who have not one ounce of humor, know this is satire. It’s not literal. 

I’m not fancy and also have way too much shit to do, so I didn’t make this into a pretty calendar, so you get a list. Quityerbitchin. 

1. Pull a trusted colleague aside to whisper all of those ‘fucks’ to that you have been holding in.

2. Have your students partner up and organize a section of your room. Call it OCD: Beginner’s Edition, or just Life Skills.
3. Finally strike up a conversation with the idiot who keeps jamming the copier and leaving it for someone else to deal with. Getting how you feel off your chest first thing in the morning will make you feel ready to tackle a day of holding in how you feel all over again.

4. Spend your entire prep period sending teacher memes to your teacher friends. These might be especially apropos:


Michael Scott knows! 

5. Take a short walk down to the vending machine in the teacher’s lounge for a much-needed soda during lunch. When everything but Dasani water is sold out, take another short walk to your car where you have a nice, little scream.
6. Calm yer tits, paper. Organize the stacks of papers on your desk labeled “to be graded” by sweeping them into the garbage can. They’ll just end up crumpled around a moldy bag of apples in the back of their desk anyway, so…

7. Think of a student who is always well behaved and really smart. Pick them to lead your math lesson for a day.

8. Fill out a staff appreciation for your fellow teacher in arms. Luckily you have a really good one this time: “Mr. Walton is a real star for cleaning the word, ‘sex’ off of the boys’ bathroom wall during his only break last Tuesday”.

9. Buy this shirt for yourself (and wear it to school immediately upon receiving it):zyrwrgt

Buy here

10. Take an Ambien and a nap under your desk during lunch.

11. Ask your students to draw a portrait of you, and laugh all the way to the wine aisle at your nearest liquor store.

12.Download a fun desk planner, attempt to laminate it, and when the laminator is broken AGAIN, just buy one on Amazon.

13. Bribe your custodian with a Starbucks gift card so that they will keep providing you with those paper ass gaskets. When you share a bathroom with 20+ eight- and nine-year-olds, they make all the mental difference.

14. Make a very serious effort to smile more. Even while saying, “It goes in the turn in basket” for the nine billionth time. Bonus: your excessive smiling with creep them out.

15. Take a goofy picture with your students-it’s super cute. Just crop out the kid throwing up gang signs.

16. Do a compliment circle with your students to start your morning. Maybe they’ll notice your new Kate Spade earrings or overly-expensive Tieks that they’ll scuff after three days. 

17. It’s Life Skills day again! Provide a Swiffer duster and a push vacuum, and they will actually want to clean the room.

18. Play some Enya, add some lavender essential oil to your diffuser and transport yourself during Guided Reading. Hey, it’s better than nodding off. Calgon, take me away!

19. Drink your double espresso out of your World’s Okayest Teacher mug, and remind yourself that you are doing your very best, dammit. 

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But it here

20. Make time to sit on your fat arse at the end of day. In fact, make time to sit accompanied by a glass of wine, loaded nachos, and some Netflix. Getting up 20 times a day from the kidney table counts as exercise. Thighs of steal, man. Thighs.of.steel.

21. Bring home the contraband notes they write to each other that you find on a daily basis. Laugh over their spelling choices and sweet innocence with a glass of wine and your dwindling sanity. Math sux bols! 

22. Organize your files on your teacher computer with fun new folder names like, “Important Shit”, “Crap I Will Never Look At Again”, and “Bullshit I Have to Deal With”. 

23. Share passwords to Teachers Pay Teachers, HBO Go, Discovery Ed, Match, and Flocabulary. Sharing is caring. 

24. Encourage students to bring cupcakes for their birthdays. It’ll create positive memories for them and you won’t have to fund your cupcake habit. But, store-bought only, and remind them not to forget the Capri Sun (organic tropical punch pairs nicely with a good white cake and vanilla cream cheese frosting). 

25. Bring a bottle of wine to weekly planning with your grade level. Watch how your lesson plans are utterly transformed.

26. Download a countdown app and set the date for the next school break. Watch the seconds count down as you get closer and closer to freedom. 


Get the same app here.
27. Do you work with an overly harried colleague who needs some “chill the fuck out” time? Buy them this mug, if they have a sense of humor, it’ll make their year:


Buy it here

Don’t forget to include some mini booze bottles and a couple Xanax. Bonus: You basically own them now. 

28. Make sure you plan “Coffee/Wine Bitch Hours” with your teacher friends. These people and the moments you spend commiserating is a huge part of why you might remain sane during your career. 

29. DON’T assign an exit ticket so that you can briefly, blissfully believe your students understood what you were going on about for 40 minutes.

30. Stand at the door and give your students a high five as they leave for the day, knowing you don’t have to see them for another 18 hours.

So, what do you think of the challenge? Did I forget anything? Let me know in the comments. 

Forever Branded a Fatty

Hey, it’s Friday! Shit, yes. So, I did a thing Wednesday. 

I got a cupcake tattoo! 

I had originally wanted to just get a tiny one on the inside of one of my fingers, but I’m kind of a why-get-the-donut-hole-when-you-can-get-the-donut kind of girl. 

So, I guess there’s not much more to say about that. 


Source
With out any further ado, the pictures: 


My virgin wrist 


This was the most attractive out of all the pictures my friend took. So, obviously, that’s saying something. But, you gotta have the “during” photo. 

And…


Ta-Da! 

It’s bigger than I had initially thought I’d go, and I had a brief freak out moment, but now I’m just in love. 

FATTY MCCUPCAKES FOREVER, BISHES!