The Friday Diary: Good F*cking Friday

What song could be more appropriate on an April Easter weekend, than April in Paris?
No song.

So Happy GOOD Friday, everyone. 

Yep, today is not just Friday it is GOOD Friday, which means you have to be nice to everyone and talk about Jesus and try not to call your kids assholes at all. 

For me this is one of the hardest days of the year. 

But this year I have the day off work, since the sweet Canadians I  work  for are kind enough to give us almost every holiday off. Except Flag Day, which I've expressed my disgruntlement about previously. 

Anyhow, let's have some orange juice with booze in it {which just seems like a happy spring time holiday drink} and see what the fuck I've been eating up to this week. 

...

On Sunday evening I tried the whole "mass cooking" thing, where you buy a shitload of food and basically cook dinners until the end of time, and then freeze them. 

Or, if you're me, you buy a shitload of food, freeze it, then get too lazy to thaw it all out at once so you can cook it all and really just end up making some kale chips, boiling a chicken and making the worlds biggest egg casserole which will be eaten by 3 people. 

Awesome. 

Recipe

Kale chips, anyone?

...

In other news, a.k.a. fat news, I got Tae Bo DVD's. 

I know, Tae Bo is like soooo 90's, and I know, Billy Blanks is an egotistical, self serving moron. But he's a ripped egotistical self serving moron, and if he can possibly make me ripped too {or at least less whale-impersonationish} then I'll listen to whatever infomercial bullshit he has to say. 

I might post a before and after picture of myself in like a bikini  running suit like 30 days into using the DVD's if I can get my lazy ass to stop pounding white wine and actually get up and move around every single day after work. 

It could be a while. 

{you'll be amused to know that what finally made me decide to start working out for the first time....ever, was when I tried to take a "sexy" picture of my butt the other night to send to Bill, and I was so thoroughly depressed by what I saw that I IMMEDIATELY ordered the DVD's with rush shipping from Amazon. Seriously. See kids? Sometimes sexting can teach us valuable life lessons.}

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16 Sleeps until Italy motha fucka!!!!!!!!

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I made a fort for me for the kids:

I still totally play in it even though it's not mine.

The kids have to sleep sometime. And when they do, that baby is alllll MINE.

...

This time last year I was knee deep in a midwifery apprenticeship and a new budding business as a doula and childbirth educator, and trying to raise two kids at the same time that things were coming to a head with Bill and I. Kind of crazy how much can change in the course of a year, ya know?

...

This weekend I have big plans to 

1. Ditch my kids for my day off work tomorrow and sleep the fuck in.

2. See Titanic in 3D with Mr. Becker tomorrow night

3. Sleep the fuck in Saturday morning

4. Dye Easter eggs with the babies Saturday night which will seem super fun at first and then turn out to be a big messy stressful pain in the ass

5. Wonder why the hell we even still celebrate Easter

6. Start drinking at 8 a.m. on Sunday morning while I make a huge breakfast that no one will eat and the kids hunt for fight over eggs and chocolate in the backyard like depression era homeless kids. 

7. Spend all day yelling at the kids to stop fighting, screaming at my dad to stop sulking, and wishing I would've bought more booze filled chocolate

8. Pass out face down in a pile of malted milk chocolate egg things and foil candy wrappers with a sugar/wine hangover and one lone Easter egg that no one found slowly going bad in some dark corner of my house for me to sniff out later.

Happy Easter everyone.

Titanic and I, 14 Years Later

Titanic re-releases into theaters today, and yes I am definitely going to see it.
I love that movie, and I have since I was 10 years old when it first came out. Ask my sisters and they'll tell you they heard about NOTHING BUT that movie for a solid 9 months after it released 14 years ago. It moved me, quite literally to tears every time I watched it, making me cry the ugly cry much to the embarrassment of my older sisters who went to see it with me, and it made me cry every time I watched it after that over the years. But recently Bill and I watched it together, and I was shocked at the fact that I didn't cry. Not on single tear. I didn't even get choked up.
Wanna know why?
When I saw it in theaters all those years ago, with my sisters, my dad and my then step mom Tonya, I remember sitting there as the theater lights came back on and the credits rolled to a stop, and I was still sobbing.
Tonya turned to me and said
 "Although I doubt you'll ever experience something quite that tragic and dramatic, I guarantee some day you will experience something that romantic. If you're lucky you'll experience something even more romantic, something that will make that love story seem small and trivial to you. I promise."
I have remembered those words ever since.
And I think the reason I didn't cry after watching it with Bill was because I finally realized: She was right.
I did experience am experiencing something better.
But it's still an awesome movie

How Chick Flicks Ruined My Life

 

10. Making me think that all the serious or sad moments in my life would make music automatically start playing somewhere in the background.

 

9. Introducing me to Leonardo DiCaprio. Period.

 

8. Starting my life long love affair with pilots.

 

7. By making me think every bad boy was just a smoldery, misunderstood loner with a heart of gold, when in fact 99% of them are just assholes.

 

6. Teaching me that runniing full force at a guy and asking him to catch me and lift me into the air, is a great idea. I've hurt more than one person trying this.

 

5. Telling me that the way to get a hot guy to like you, is to be his nerdy tutor. Or have cancer. A lose/lose situation if you ask me.

 

4. More or less introducing me to bestiality

{and now by making me google bestiality to see how to actually spell it}

 

3. Convincing me to cut my hair like Meg Ryan's in You've Got Mail, which successfully ruined my freshman year of high school altogether.

 

2. Making me think that a guy would get off the plane for me, when in reality plane tickets are expensive and no one does that. Ever.

 

1. And last but not least: teaching me that if it was a truly romantic moment, it will happen in the rain. This has yet to happen even once in my life. The closest I ever came was being kissed outside while it was really windy. Once.