1. There are a freaking exorbitant amount of people from Oklahoma reading my blog.

You have no idea how much this mortifies me and drives home the fact that I totally need to move to a remote island, adopt a super cool “pen name,” and write freely where the odds of me bumping into someone at a coral reef is no where near as likely as bumping into someone at Ted’s. Do I really wanting my backyard knowing the wind blew my skirt up sky high right in front of my father in law? I’m thinking no.

2. I really dislike fake flowers.

That is all I will say about this subject.

3. I hate going to the grocery store by myself.

It’s like this whole “thing” with me. I mean, of course I’ll do it- I’m a freaking grown woman for crying out loud- but I would way rather Will go with me.

I’m such a weirdo. Perhaps we will discuss this oddity in another post. The shopping part- not the weirdness part.

4. I’m into trance music.

I think I might have told you guys that before, but it seems to surprise most people when they find that out about me.

What?

Is it strange that some proper Oklahoma suburban wife would listen to stuff like that (ha ha- the answer is a big overwhelming YES)?

5. I’m going to Chicago this weekend.

I guess this isn’t a “confession” per se, but I hadn’t told you guys yet so I thought it was time to share. P and I are going to have a super quick and AMAZING girl’s weekend full of the most fun we’ve had together since the cruise.

We are going to see Tiesto in concert!!!

(crickets chirping)

Okay- so I know that’s like dolphin squeak to most of you- but trust me, it’s like huge, huge, huge.

Tiesto is the modern father of trance. He truly epitomizes what trance music is today. Trust me- it’s a big deal. I can’t even put into words how much I’m looking forward to this trip and how amazing this concert will be.

I downloaded his newest album today to get me ready for my trip. I had listened to it last week and didn’t really like it, but today I decided that for the most part I really do. To humor me you should download Century ft. Calvin Harris, Fresh Fruit, and Who Wants to Be Alone ft. Nelly Furtado from his newest album, Kaleidoscope. They’re the ones I’m listening to the most right now. I think the Nelly Furtado song is way hot.

YAY for an amazing girl’s weekend!

I can’t wait to tell you guys all about it.

So that’s my big news/"confession."

Anything you need to get off your chest?

1. I went to DC on Wednesday- for just one night- and have yet to unpack my bag a whole week later.

2. I made brownies last weekend just for the heck of it. I got the amazing and trashy ones and even slathered them in chocolate frosting. Hello fatness!

I made them Friday night and they were gone Sunday night.

Two days.

Two people.

You do the math.

I feel my teeth rotting and my butt growing just confessing that.

3. I’ve eaten more of Will’s birthday cake than he knows, but since I serve it to him he has no idea. Shhh! Geez I’m so fat.

4.(Ha! After sharing all my food fatness confessions) I think I’m going to run a 5k this October. I really want to do it but I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to run 3 straight miles between now and October (um without going into cardiac arrest, that is). I always do the elliptical and never run. I want to do this and challenge myself- and change up my workout- but at the same time I have this fear that I won’t be able to do it. Sigh- okay that was a sad confession! Let’s end on a good one.

5. I washed my hair last Wednesday and put a freaking TON of hairspray in it so I could wear it nice and curled Thursday while I was on my trip without having to wash it.

And I did just that- and wore it Friday too.

And Saturday.

And Sunday.

Yes. I really did do that. Perhaps I can say it’s because I’m “going green?”

Hey- this is about confessions, right?

Need to get something off your chest? 

1. I bought a shirt the other day from The Gap that Will doesn’t know about. In fact- it was only $5 but I still gave it to Rachel to hold until our next gym date. I’m a dork and have no idea why I did that. Perhaps because we’re going through Dave Ramsey’s course and I felt a little guilty? (yes- a freaking $5 shirt. What a crazy.) Anyway- I figured it was a good confession to share.

2. I saw someone I work out at the same gym with at Walmart this afternoon. I secretly LOVE that I ran into someone that works out at the same place I do- especially when I’m having a good hair day and look put together. I.look.beyond.awful. when I go to the gym, so I always feel Ace when I run into someone who has seen me sweating all over myself (you know- sweat dripping from every nook and cranny, red puffy face, veins popping...)- and then sees me “normal.” Trust me guys- I’m a scary sight on gym mornings.

3. I ate fried alligator today. Really- I did.

4. I did end up bringing a bottle of “water” with me to the wedding weekend extravaganza. It turned out to be a good decision.

5. I found out this afternoon that someone I work with was a stripper to pay his way through college. This in and of it self is sort of hilarious- to find out someone you have a professional relationship with used to wear textured and colored thongs and probably had some sort of signature “move."However, what makes it even more hilarious is how totally out of character it is for this person- a very cerebral, brainiac. Not the stripper type at all. Anyway- my confession is that everytime I saw him this afternoon I couldn’t stop laughing. I literally had to excuse myself from an office he was in today because I thought I might snort trying to keep myself from laughing. Good times.

Anything you need to share?

Forgive me friends for I have sinned. It has been several weeks since my last confession.

Because it’s been a while, I will plunge deep into my heart and provide you with quality, meaningful confessions.

Like this one:

1. My husband parks my car in the garage every.single.day.

No seriously- I swear.

I know.

Pathetic.

So here’s the whole back story.

When I was 16 I got a car and- like all 16 year olds- was very eager to drive and be TOTALLY responsible with it.

So the thing with my car was that it was really long and it barely fit in the garage. In fact, there were many times in which the garage door lightly smudged the back of my car. Not only that, but we had a two car garage growing up so it was a really tight squeeze fitting the car next to the big purple minivan. So- long story (somewhat) short- my parents parked the car in the garage for me. Yes, I was TOTALLY responsibile- but why risk me doing something stupid, right?

Right.

So- one night I was being TOTALLY responsible and coming home late. Instead of calling my parents and telling them that not only was I late, but I also needed the car put in the garage, I opted to be the “good” and helpful daughter and park the car myself.

As I pulled the car in the rear right side of my car let out a painful cry of torture-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH

I couldn’t stop! I kept driving, thinking it would be better.

It was worse.

Definitely worse.

I totally dented in the side big time. Plus the paint was destroyed.

Good job kid.

I know.

Anyway- ever since that I’ve been very leery of parking in tight spaces. Mostly because I suck. Mostly also because I have this reoccurring nightmare of doing something terribly stupid again.

So anyway, since we have the truck now it goes in the big part of the garage and we park my car in the third garage door, which is a tight squeeze (ahem- for me- not for anyone else, I’m sure).

Will knows this awful and totally embarrassing garage story, and although it’s been 10 freaking years, he still doesn’t trust me with “baby #2” (did you guys know that’s what he calls his car? I know- he’s crazy).

So there you go- I can’t park my own car in my garage. How’s that for a confession?

2. When it’s just me and Will eating at home I cover my baking dish in foil so I don’t have to wash the dish and instead just throw away the dirty foil.

Because I’m just that lazy. No other reason.

3.  Sometimes I pretend to be annoyed whenever I scoop ice cream (cookies and creme) for me and Will because “I’d rather he do it,” but the truth is that is that I totally love doing it because I always (always, always) give myself the giant pieces of cookies.

ha ha. I feel like I need to go to crunches after confessing that…

Anything you need to confess to lighten your load? 

1. I’m pretty sure I’ve only seen about four full episodes of Dancing With the Stars since it was created. Yes- I know it’s ranked #1 with a million gold stars, medals, A+ smiley faces or whatever else there is to convey it’s amazing-ness.

I don’t care.

I feel pudgy between the hours of 10 am and 10 pm, and therefore have no desire to see super duper cute girls barely covering their loins shaking all around a dance floor.

Yeah- that sounds like so much fun!

Puke.

2. I saw my very first and only Sex In The City episode during my Texas Girl’s weekend.

Between just the two of us? I actually liked it.

I never watched it because I assumed it was trashy and not something I could get into. I’m sure it’s probably trashy, but I must admit I did enjoy the episode I saw- and it wasn’t bad at all. I guess that’s because it’s in syndication now and can’t be as racy?

Don’t tell Will I liked it, okay?

3. I haven’t watched American Idol since 2005.

And even before 2005 I never watched a season.

I know- I’m not Patriotic. I don’t believe in apple pie and white picket fences and freedom and dreams.

The truth is that the judges annoy the CRAP out of me. And then

then

as if three wasn’t enough-

they added a fourth!

A FOURTH!

Do you know how much freaking time they waste yapping in between songs!?

It irritates me to.no.end and for that reason I can’t watch American Idol. NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR YOUR STUPID CRITIQUE.

My blood pressure rises.

I know- I’m weird.

4. I’m over the Octo-Mom crap. I was over it about an hour after I heard it. I’m tired of hearing about it. We get it. We understand the story. We’re not morons that need to hear it over and over again. The odds of you riding this story out until someone has nine kids isn’t looking too good- so just give it up already. PLEASE.

5. I have absolutely no idea what song is #1 on the pop charts this week (um- or any other week), and I don’t care.

Ha- I find it slightly humorous that my last post was all about getting old. This post just confirms I’m nothing but an old lady. Embrace the old, Brittny. Embrace the old.

More to Come <3

I know what you’re thinking.

I have a problem.

A drug problem.

That there is no such thing as “recreational” drug use.

That after one hit of Alli there is no going back.

You feel the high of controlling your fat intake because you’re terrified of crapping yourself,

the rush of oily farts as you think to yourself, “ Ohhh yeeahh, I am so addicted to this stuff. I <3 greasy gas."

You're right- that's exactly how it happened. Exactly how I became addicted.

It was that glamorous.

Okay not really-

after the first time I ate an order of mozzarella sticks, four cheese tortellini, half a loaf of bread, and a giant chunk of cheesecake I thought to myself, "I'll just take this one time."

One try won't hurt, right?

Before I knew it I was up to a three pill a day habit, figuring out when I was going to get my next fix. What I was going to eat- how much fat was involved....

trying to explain to Will how the hell the toilet was stained OSU orange…

before I knew it I was out of control!

P and I split a bottle- driving to every single Walgreens and CVS pharmacy trying to get our next fix- only we couldn't find any.

We began shaking and experiencing uncontrollable sweating and hallucinating- we were so addicted that we even drove to another city to secure another bottle of these little fat loss miracles.

As we split a "starter pack," ensuring we threw away the evidence in a dumpster three blocks away I felt a sense of peace. The shakes and scary flying goblins left my mind and I felt like myself again.

It was at this point- after driving to another city- that I realized I had a problem and I needed help.

Or maybe it was when P and I began to run low on our stash and actually contemplated cutting the pills open and using a credit card to separate the pills to get two hits out of one.

It could have also been at the point in which P and I turned the noun Alli into a verb- "Are you going to Alli after you eat that cheese pizza?"

"Are you going to Alli after scarfing down those three donuts?"

"We should probably Alli if we're going to eat these giant hamburgers at 1 AM."

Yeah, that might have been my low point.

My name is Brittny and I have an Alli-ing problem.

Not to be confused with the Alli side effects:

(sidenote: um- that’s pretty much freaking hilarious)

Yeah- it was at that point in which I decided I needed to get a hold of myself. Eating an occasional cheeseburger was far more desireable than crapping one’s self. Right?

I thought so too.

So, I got a hold of myself and became a “recreational” Alli user. It’s a lot easier to control- I’ll tell you that much! (ha ha!)

So there you have it- my drug problem and how I became a “recreational” user.

Anything weighing you down (if so- maybe you should “Alli")? Go ahead and share!

1. I ordered Girl Scout cookies yesterday. For “family in Kuwait.” Okay- so I’m lying. After all- this is Tuesday Confessions, right? So I ordered 10 boxes yesterday for “family” so I wouldn’t look like a total fatty. The truth is that we bought 10 boxes for ourselves. Because we suck. And we’re fat.

2. I will be 26 old this year and I still get embarrassed to buy tampons. Really. How immature is that?

3.I didn’t wash my hair yesterday. That’s typically no big deal, I generally go a day or two between washings. HOWEVER I lifted weights at the gym the day before and got sweaty and STILL did not wash my hair this morning. I opted for a quick shower and 30 extra minutes of sleep. Because I am gross. And fat (read #1).

4. Will always asks me to make sure the lines on his gotee/beard/thing (I’m not sure what exactly it’s classified as now) are straight and almost always I have absolutely no idea if they are or not. So I say just yes.

5. I tend to be slightly obsessive compulsive. Ross and Rachel found this out last weekend when I had to triple check that the straightener was unplugged PLUS have Will confirm. So I have this system, this schedule, for cleaning my house- and I don’t deviate. I’m two days behind and it’s really, truly making me all itchy and sweaty and crazy. Must.Not.Deviate. So despite my obsession with having a clean house, since I’ve already missed two days of “The Holy Schedule” I would rather wait until the cycle starts over again. Because I am crazy. And gross (read #2). And fat (read #1).

Anything weighing you down (aside from 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies) that you need to get off your chest? Leave it behind in the “Share the Love” section. 

There’s something I need to confess today:

I hate buying new purses.

Yes, I know as a grown woman I’m supposed to love the idea of a brand new gorgeous bag, but the truth is- I don’t.

I hate purse shopping. I hate trying to find the “perfect bag.” I hate the idea of having to trade purses to match outfits- yes- I’m the one you gasp at for wearing browns and carrying a black purse. That’s me.

I find a purse and pretty much drive it into the ground. I carry so much unnecessary crap inside that you’d think I had mothered a basketball team. My purse probably weighs the same as a bucket of bricks. In fact, I’m pretty sure one of my shoulders permanently hunkers lower than the other. The thought of switching all that crap from one purse to another tires me. I’d rather just stick with Old Faithful. In fact, the purse I have now? Yeah- I’ve had it since the fall of 2006.

I plan on trying my best to make it through at least 2008.

I know that means by the time I finally break down a buy a new purse a whole new president will be in power,

we could be on the cusp of flying cars,

and Kuwait may have seen snow for the first time-

but that’s seriously how much I hate purse shopping.

I hate it almost as much as jean shopping- almost (I’m pretty sure shopping for jeans is the worst experience ever. In fact, I think that’s how they punish female criminals in some small countries).

From the outside, my current purse doesn’t look too bad. In fact, I still really like it.

The inside, however, leaves something to be desired.

I finally came to terms with it’s weakness this past week.

A few months ago I noticed a small hole in one of the pockets. Nothing too big, but slightly annoying. I also noticed that every now and then a lip gloss would get stuck inside “the abyss” due to the hole. Not that big of a deal- I mean- if one is going to hold the No New Purse conviction, you have to be prepared for a few annoying holes, right?

Well, last week it was as though the angels of purse heaven staged an intervention. A moment so intense that it brought me to a tearful confession:

“I...I’m out of control.... I need help.”

I had been searching for a lip gloss I had in my purse just the day before. Where was it!? Why couldn’t I find it? Ah- it must have slipped into “the abyss,” inside the linings of my old and worn purse. I stuck my fingers in the little hole that had developed and noticed that the “little hole” had grown significantly!

In fact- had I known the hole was so freaking huge I totally would have smuggled way more diet cokes and skittles into the movie we saw last week (just kidding of course...kind of).

As I stuck my hand inside the abyss I was astounded at all the little cylinders I felt within.

For months now I’ve sworn up and down I’ve lost several of my favorite lip glosses. I had simply blamed it “on the move-” which I’m finding is also a GREAT way to explain why I seem to have “lost” some of the bad gifts I’ve received over the years.

As I continuted to dig I began to pull lip gloss after lip gloss out of the abyss I realized I had a problem. I realized I probably needed a new purse.

The first step is admitting you have a problem, you know.

Not only that but I felt a little guilty when I pulled out a.brand.new.bottle.of.perfume. that had been missing for ALMOST A YEAR!

That’s right, my friends, almost a year! I had always secretly blamed this one girl I shared a vehicle with because she would always tell me how much she loved the smell. I figured she had stolen it.

The truth was that it was hidden inside my 30 pound trunk.

Yeah- I suck.

So- while I was very happy to have found some of my favorite lip glosses, I also realized that I probably need to begin thinking about getting a new purse.

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but definitely before those flying cars roll out.

Anything you need to confess today?

Okay so I basically get dressed in the dark on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I get up at 430 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to meet my friend at the gym, so by the time I get home on those days I’m very alert and conscious of bad apparel decisions. Tuedays and Thursdays, however go like this:

Set alarm for 6:20

Alarm goes off

Hit Snooze.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Finally decide, “Who am I kidding? Am I really going to get up now?”

Decide that I’m not.

Set alarm for 7:00.

It’s at this point, 7:00, that I get up and begin to rush and panic and think to myself, “What an idiot! Why would I get up so late!?”

Today was no different. I rushed around to get ready- spray ironed my clothes, took my rollers out in the car, and drove like a bat out of hell to get to work.

Classy lady.

That’s me.

Today, however, was not a good decision to sleep so late. Today we had a meeting with our customers- people I’ve spoken with several times but never formally met.

So explain to me why- why- I wore a sweater without the cami that MUST go underneath it to make it long enough and work appropriate.

Why?

And why- why- did I wear a sea foam green thong today that continually threatened to make an appearance as if to say (in a friendly British accent, of course- because that’s the language of all thongs), “Hello Mates!”

Why?

This whole morning was spent tugging, pulling, and grabbing at my shirt to ensure no sea foam thong peekage would occur.

I’m pretty sure I focused more on my sweater than I did the actual meeting.

What a tacky, tacky look.

I think all is well, and I’m pretty sure I’ve stretched my sweater to the point that it’s a mini dress, but I’d rather be wearing a mini dress than a ridiculous top that’s too short!

What a morning. Perhaps I’ll get up at 6:55 next time…

Tomorrow night my sister and I are going out on the town.

(ahahaha- out on the town. Little Christian Girls. In Kuwait. Where dancing, public music, and alcohol are forbidden. Yeah- that makes for a real wild night! )

I told her we have to make “a quick stop somewhere,” before we can go out.

She has no idea that my “quick stop” is to the lame going away BBQ for my boss where she will attend as my date.

Ahahahahaha.

“Quick Stop.”

I’m hilarious.

Oh, and P if you’re reading this I’m totally kidding… it really will be a quick stop. Honest. Will has to work- and having you there will get me in and out in a jif (in a jif?? Did I really just say Jif!?! Oh geez). You’re totally hot and if you go on this date with me I’ll totally put out. hee hee- not that way you grossy.

Can’t wait to see you! <3 xox