pouring my heart out

Please. 

Help me understand because I just don’t get it. 

And I want to…I truly do.

For years I have tried to understand what it is about you that makes others obsess over you. They all seem to go way overboard. They soak you in, drink you up, and spit you out, and yet still come back for more.  They often get in to deep….almost as if they are addicted…

How is it you were able to snow all of these folks?  Can they not see right thru you like I can?   Is it only I that find you tasteless and cheap? Do they not believe me when I tell them how truly dull and boring you really are?  You have always appeared so hot and cold to me, how can this be acceptable? To anyone? 

Our relationship has always been stormy at best.  You’d shower me with your effervescents at times, and then immediately withdraw and become lukewarm, dampening my spirits.  Maybe, I have just been hosed by you one too many times.

Ah, but that’s water under the bridge. Perhaps over the years I have had my fill of you and now just find you hard to swallow.  I know you are working hard at changing your image. Lately,  I’ve seen you at all the classiest places in town and often see you in magazines toasting your glass with LA’s most elite clientele at the best 5 star restaurants. 

Yes, I know

You are a long, tall glass of water

No,….seriously…you are!

But I still find you boring.

***CSS brainiacs...why the hell does the font size come out different in the middle? does that have something to do with the padding?

gentlemen, start your engines

So this is the time of year each year…that I pretty much go MIA…

I’m busy…crazy busy!  I do a lot of charity work that is tied into the Toyota Grand Prix of Long Beach…which is running this weekend…anyway..we hosted a charity golf tourney on Monday, a black tie dinner last night, a boat/casino night harbor cruise on Friday night and then it’s time for the actual race (which we sit back and enjoy from our very special VIP suite on Pit Row… saaaaaaaaaweeeet.)…Sat and Sun……

But of course…that’s not all…Mr.Brat is kinda a muckity-muk as far as big wigs go with regards to the charity end of this race…..so of course there is entertaining out of state dignitaries tonight, a sponsor’s party tomorrow night…and various other glad handing that has to be done all weekend…  

What if?

Dear Mr. Hershey,

You and I developed this special bond awhile back and I am sure you are aware; I have a deep sense of loyalty to both you and your delicious chocolaty treats.  You see, I was practically weaned on them as a small child so I consider myself somewhat of an expert in your field.  I know you value me as a confidante and despite my unpaid status, look forward to hearing additional marketing tips from me as often as possible.

That is why I was so surprised to read this the other day. It appears you haven’t been completely open and honest with me Sir.  Could it be that you are in fact, secretly trying to buy out Cadbury and Co?  THE Cadbury?…the one that makes those DELICIOUS CHOCOLATE CRÈME EGGS at Easter time?  That is an excellent idea if I do say so myself.   (Had I not been busy celebrating my birthday <over, and over, and over, and over again> I too might have thought of it.)

To be perfectly frank with you Mr.H, Cadbury’s milk chocolate Rocks compared to yours taste wise.   It is much richer, smoother, more irresistible..…Sure, yours is good and all…but the wonders Cadbury pulls off with their creamy fondant centers is beyond compare. It’s like having a “little party in your mouth with each bite”…. 

So I was thinking…what if you were able to market these little gems all year long?  Picture your sales increase, picture your profits rising, picture me in that corner office with the big window…

Currently, sales on chocolate Easter eggs all but stop the day after Easter…it seems some folks think of little bunny eggs and other Easter inspired items and relate them only to the Easter season.  Which leaves you with a huge problem…

 Easter Markdowns..

you know, the day after Easter when everything goes half price along with your profits? …and all the penny pinching moms and dads scramble to the store to pick up the 50% off stuff  (cuz they were too cheap to hide eggs in MY backyard on Easter, claiming that the Easter bunny must be saving the “Best for Last” and must have just run out of time---so what if I was 17?)  ah…but that’s another story and another blog I suppose.

Anyway…what if you were able to extend your sales season for a full 8 months.  From September thru April???…Think of the profits…think of the sales…again, think of me in that corner office. 

My idea would be to tie right into the NFL Football Season..all you would have to do is take your leftover egg embryos, slap some brown footbally foil over `em and “SCORE”…a football!  Ready for kickoff!

You are probably asking yourself "how  would I ever find the time and resources to be able to individually wrap each left over egg and convert it into a football?  Well Sir, I have left nothing out…It just so happens that Santa’s elves are pretty much just hanging out causing trouble come December 26th… with nothing better to do than drink beer and pole dance.  I am sure they would love to score some temp work!  And they have such small hands it seems like a natural!

What’s in it for me you ask?  Not much really…that corner office, a mid 6-figure salary but most importantly you’d be saving me from cracking innumerable amounts of 50% markdown eggs the day following Easter.    

Birthdays, Pipedreams and Wishes

Yes…I know I have been neglecting my blog… …

You see, ever since I celebrated my birthday a few days back, I have been reflecting on my life and the days gone by.  My “coulda, woulda, shouda’s” and the “what if’s”, and the “if only’s”…

{Frank Sinatra rendition of “I did it my way”,   cooing softly in the background chirping from the scratchy 45 record playing on my hand cranked record player}  “♫ regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again…too few ♫”…

My list is still so long of  “things I should do before I die”…I realize that at 51 years of age  <deep, deep sigh>  my list has so many things I just haven’t gotten around to yet…When will I go on Safari?   Or visit the great pyramids in Egypt?    Will I ever finish reading War and Peace?    Who will take me hangliding?   And what about those glaciers I wanted to ski down…wait !!!  did that one, <crosses it off list>  

anyway…where were we?…long list, I’m old, lots of things to do…oh..yea..

So as I was sitting there feeling sorry for myself checking thru the literature for the local senior citizens clubs and activities…I realized…hey…according to THIS there is still tons of time…according to This I’m going to live to be 103 years old…which means …I have just hit middle age…so there is plenty of time left for me to get to those other things …no need to rush I have more than half my life left…I still have another 52 more years of this…

And just like that my mood quickly changed, I decided I should go ahead and schedule that mani-pedi for next week after all and I toyed between enjoying a piece of stale birthday cake or hopping on the treadmill….  

 ***special note....above is written from a completely sarcastic point of view...not to worry...I have no intention of packing it in just yet!****

Birthday Festivities

How to Celebrate your Birthday and NOT gain 4.5lbs.

 Just some tips for next year:

1.  Don’t assume just because your birthday falls on a Sunday, you should begin celebrating it on Thursday and at each subsequent meal thereafter.  (Even though you’re special, you just aren’t THAT special.)

2.  Don’t go out for your “family” BD dinner on Thursday and order sushi, white rice and a glass of wine. Followed by another one. Just because your birthday is Sunday.

3. Don’t walk across the street after eating a full meal and order a medium lemon Gelato just because your birthday is Sunday. 

4. Don’t cave in when your dear 87 year old MIL suggests you try a piece of her secret recipe-home-made-scratch-cake she spent all afternoon making, even when she points out, “Your birthday is Sunday, and I won’t be around to bake these for ever”. 

 

5. Don’t begin to panic-feed when you call your elderly father on Friday afternoon and realize that he needs IMMEDIATE medical attention that falls somewhere short of dialing 911, yet exceeds the ability for him to drive himself to the ER. And you are 3 hours away. By car. In rush hour traffic. 

6. On Saturday afternoon, don’t order enough food for a family of 6, when your 2 former college roommates suggest eating at PF Changs because your birthday is Sunday. 

7. Don’t feel it is necessary to indulge in all the crunchy, salty and chocolate treats located within arms reach of your losing poker chair, despite the fact that you may very likely have to take out a second mortgage if your luck doesn’t soon change even though your birthday is Sunday and your friends should be letting you win. 

8. Just because not one, but two birthday cakes happen to show up that night, it is not necessary for you to try a large piece of each. Plus take home the leftovers. because after all, your birthday is Sunday and your name is on them. 

9. Morning after "cake tastings" are not really necessary prior to breakfast even though today is finally Sunday, your birthday. 

10. And lastly, when Mr.Brat takes you out to dinner at the restaurant of your choice, and mr.and mrs.desertdweller show up with yet another birthday cake, (yes, number 4 for those of you who are counting) you can say no. Even if it is your very favorite lemon cake.From your very favorite bakery. And your name is on it. and it's your birthday. 

(next year I think I shall make plans with ONLY my dog, because she (thoughtfully enough) chose to buy me a gift that I didn’t mind sharing. A meaty flavored Dingo Bone…coincidentally her favorite.)  

An open letter to my cellulite,

Dear Unwanted houseguest that has taken up permanent Residence on my thighs,

Oh, and another thing…don’t even consider joining your neighbors just north of you as they too have become sloppy and will soon be asked to either shape up or move along as well.

 Signed,

Bratz Management Team

  p.s. Perhaps you might have luck vacationing for a while with Paris or Nicole. Quite frankly, either one of them could benefit by having you around in my opinion

An open letter to my DVD Exercise instructor

An open letter to the troop taskmaster on my fitness video. 

Dear Hot Exercise Lady in your forties,

You and I have been through so much together over these last three years and I feel that we have developed this special bond between us. At first, I was reluctant to share this but I know you would want me to be candid. 

You have always been so forthcoming with me, I was drawn in instantly by your warmth and charm, but it was your effervescent personality that made me know we were going to be great friends. 

From the moment we met, you seemed so invested in our friendship.  I mean after all, wasn’t it you that started joking and chiding with me right from day one to “get up off the couch and go for a walk with you?”  You promised that I would be happier if I did, assuring me that inclement weather would not be a viable excuse to keep the two of us apart.  And you were right!  Day in day out…you showed up for that walk, and walk we did!  Mile after mile. Day after Day.  And the fun we had…we laughed, we joked…(well you actually did most of the talking, but still, it seemed you had so much to share.) I didn’t realize how quickly the time would pass, but it did.  I was quite pleased.  In fact I looked forward to our time together.  I lost a lot of weight and many inches hanging out with you. We were a great team. 

But regrettably, you had so many friends.  I always had to share you.  It could never be just about “you and me”.  You always insisted “they” join us, and quite frankly, I never felt a connection with any of them.  They seemed snobbish and cold to me. They never joked or encouraged me the way you did.  My cheery questions of “How are you guys today?” or “are you guys up for lunch later?” would always be met by blank stares and my questions would go unanswered.   In fact I don’t actually remember a single one of them ever acknowledging my presence.  Not once did any of them even make eye contact with me. It was as if I wasn’t there..as if  they looked right through me!  Do you know how that made me feel?

I suppose early on, they decided they were just too good for me.  Each morning, they would show up decked out in their perfect outfits, with their perfect bodies and perfect hair and makeup…not a glimmer or glisten of sweat anywhere to be seen on a single one of them.  I, on the other hand, having just rolled out of bed, would throw on the same yoga pants that I had sported the day before, squeezed the girls into an incredibly unflattering sports bra (leading one to believe that I quite possibly possessed a uniboob), and topped that off with a faded, torn wife beater Tee. Quite an ensemble if I do say so myself. …I clearly doubt they had any reason to be jealous of me…

But… they always were there…in the background, laughing and chatting amongst themselves…acting all cool and all…just like those girls in my high school (damn you Sara for telling dreamy eyed Brad Forman those lies about me sophomore year…I know he really wanted to take me to prom, not you!). 

At first I thought perhaps if I tried a bit harder to fit in, but they just wouldn’t have it.   I had such high hopes for all of us in the beginning but I couldn’t break thru…Jenne’ seemed nice enough..but a little aloof.  Adria never gave me the time of day, I thought possibly Tara and I could have something in common, but no!… even “Slacker Beth”, (who always held the front row down, demonstrating an easier way to do everything so that your hair wouldn’t get so messed) seemed uninterested… I considered hanging out with Randy, the token male, because he seemed kinda lost too, but in the end I just gave up and...Deb? what kind of a grandma is she anyway? cant even be nice to the new girl.... They were all too much of a clique and I always felt like an outsider. 

Regardless…I guess what I am trying to say is this.  I think I am going to have to call this thing off between us.…I no longer find you interesting or the least bit entertaining…in fact, I now find you dull and innately boring (whatever was I thinking all those years?).   I had hopes of one day fitting in with you and your friends and becoming part of the “team”…laughing, joking, goofing around with each of you...but I always seemed to be at odds from the rest of you…you’d march left..I’d march right..and try as I might, your pals never seemed to let me follow behind you step for step like they did.  There was just no real connection.  And your music selection? …well, what can I say?…These days, I prefer dancing away the time with my ipod as I have grown tired of your constant banter and so called encouragement (would it kill you to use some new material once in awhile?)  besides…has anyone else told you lately?  You talk too much! 

anyway….I wanted you to know, I did enjoy our time together and I wish only the best for you and your “other” friends.  So…I have now found new friends that value me, in a more realistic and tangible fashion.

Best of luck to you,

 Brat.  

Who knew?

I never thought it would happen. Somehow we just happened to find each other and I am couldn’t be happier.  We were meant to be together.  It was destiny.  And I feel as if I am the luckiest woman on the face of the earth.  All because of you.

I had been searching for you, for what seemed like, forever.  I knew you were out there, but where does one go to find true love?  So far, I had only seen “you” in my dreams. You were wonderful…amazing…everything I wanted you to be…but there was never an image to associate with you…just a feeling…the wonderful, rejuvenating feeling one gets, when one is  Complete. Satiated. Fulfilled. 

I had no idea what you would look like…or if and when our paths would cross.  And if they did?  Would I recognize you?  Would it be love at first sight?  Or would this be a long drawn out courtship that required time and energy?  What if I found you to be too rich for my tastes?  Or perhaps bitter and not at all what I had hoped for.  Would I give you a second glance? How about a second chance?

I prayed for a sign. 

And my prayers were answered.  there it was!.  In my Sunday newspaper!  My eyes immediately were drawn to it…as if it were a flashing neon sign on a dark deserted road. 

It was as if you had placed a personal ad addressed to me and ONLY ME, suggesting that we should be together.

You appealed to my heart.. promising that I would fall for you immediately, that you possessed benefits and properties that the others before you did not.  You made a plea to my senses somehow knowing of my love for all things sweet …but it was your proposal to my practical side that ultimately lured me in when you tempted me with that generous yet modest, financial endowment………….

. 

$1.00 off

yes….that’s all it took…but,  if I took that dollar to my local BigChainGroceryStore, he promised he would double it, if I indeed used it to purchase you.  So there you have it…the story of how we ended up together…the rest is History…

 so thank you

General Mills Fiber One chewy Bars

…we were indeed meant to find each other.

  Signed,

Brat  

here's to You.

So last night, I went out for my regular Everyothertuesday feast with with Roadrash and Thirtysomething at our regular Everyothertuesday restaurant of choice, CPK’s. 

(mrs.Ed couldn’t join us this week due to some lame excuse, stating only that “she wasn’t totally convinced that Roadrash and Thirtysomething wanted her there.” Apparently there had been some emails floating around that had been less than congenial towards her…something having to due with a panty raid or something…although…I for one, can’t imagine how anyone could ever type anything cantankerous to this demure introvert.)

So without her there, we were free to talk trash about her the entire evening and proceeded to do so, until we soon tired of it…we then moved our discussions onto that of  Mr.Ed which bored us even sooner than we could have imagined….forcing us into the realization that we would soon need to either make the long trek back to our prospective cars and head for home,  or order dinner from our waiter Ramon, who was rather impatiently tapping his pencil on his waiter tablet in anticipation of the 3 women at table 34 leaving him a less than opulent gratuity for all his hard work. We chose to stay for dinner anyway.

When we dine together, we generally choose to talk about

1. whichever pal couldn’t make it that evening due to their lame excuse first,  and then…
2. what it is that is working for us dietwise.  What motivates us, what keeps us strong, focused, determined.  What keeps us exercising even when we don’t want to. What helps us get it back when we slip…

...and it was pretty apparent (to me at least) that it is my friends that do this for me.   They keep me on track.  They motivate me.  Keep me focused.  Help me when I fall. And best of all, all without judgement. 

So this blog's for you today...here is a virtual toast to YOU,  my motivators, both online and in person …(I would offer you real champagne but it is still before noon and that wouldn’t be right).. 

“you are all a bunch of losers”.

(even mrsEd who was too busy to join us last night, again!…whatever…)

no news is good news?

So if you popped in here hoping to find something clever and funny going on over in my little corner of the blogisphere…you probably should just keep bloghoppin’….  

Cuz…I got nothing…  

Nothing to look at here…

Same old, same old….

blah…blah…blah…

no news is good news, right?

Umm.  Not so much…see I like change…I thrive off of it…I need it for my mere existence…I am not one of the folks that is willing to engage you in a hearty conversation about whether in fact, the glass is half empty or half full cuz quite frankly I don’t’ care (unless of course there’s a margarita in that glass and then it absolutely makes a difference)…

nope, I’m more about “what color is the glass?”…is it stemware?  Crystal?   tinted?  Does it come in other shades? Is it plastic?  How about fragile?   

If I throw it at my freakin` scale right now will it break? 

um..yep...

~sigh~