It’s funny that even after almost six and a half years of marriage I’m still all about proving a point. Sure, I fully acknowledge marriage is about give and take, open honesty, and all things good. But let’s face it- we’re still women, and we don’t like being wrong.

Which means there are times in which we do silly things out of “principle” to ensure we’re always right.

Let’s begin in 2008.

When we first moved from Kuwait and into our house the previous owners left some pretty maroon curtains behind. I had my own plan for the curtains in the living room, however they were nice and I didn’t just want to get rid of them. So- Will thought they would fit nicely in his future “man room,” fill of OU crimson memorabilia and all things boy. I sort of scratched my head as to how regal curtains such as these would fit into the Room O Testosterone- but whatever.

We took them down and hung them nicely in the closet of Will’s future OU room.

And didn’t think anything else of them.

Last spring, the spring of 2009 mind you, I was in Will’s room and came across the curtains. I had intended to get them dry cleaned after taking them down but had long forgotten to do it, so I decided what better time to get these curtains dry cleaned?

I took them to my local dry cleaners that spring. The spring of 2009. I dropped them off- 4 curtains total (they were doubled up on each side of the rod) and was on my merry way.

Hmm… let’s camp out at the dry cleaners for a second. It’s somewhat necessary for the story.

To my knowledge there are only 2 dry cleaners in close proximity to me. This one, and another one. This one is what I would consider a “fancy” dry cleaners. Mainly because I’m a dork. It’s in a nice shopping center and the building is nice and the inside is nice and the people are nice, and well- it’s just nice. I feel like my clothes are properly tagged and put away and nicely cared for.

And the other one? Well it’s okay. I’m sure it’s a quintessential dry cleaners. Only, when compared to the “nice” dry cleaners, it just seems pretty dumpy. I don’t like going in there and I fear that as soon as I drop off my clothes they’re being worn my some old cougar with fuchsia lipstick.

So now that we have an understanding of the differences of my dry cleaning establishments, let’s move on.

A few days later I returned to the nice dry cleaners and paid and picked up the crimson curtains. I brought them home and put them in Will’s closet, where Will proceeded to tell me, “You know… those don’t look as thick as before. Are you sure you got all of them?”

Rolling my eyes “Yes, Will, I got all of them.”

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, I really thought these looked thicker.”

“Yes, Will. I’m sure. I wouldn’t have forgotten them.”

And then on and off for the next three days Will proceeded to make comments about how he really thought the curtains looked fuller before and how he was afraid I didn’t get all of them.

To which I continued to assure him that he was wrong, and I was right.

What’s funny about this whole scenario is that neither of us ever bothered to open the plastic bag they were wrapped in to count them.

Ha.

Anyway- about 2 weeks later, during the spring of 2009, I received a phone message from the nice dry cleaners. They had my curtains! I had in fact only picked up 2 of the 4 and I needed to get the rest! Opps. So now not only was I wrong, but I had to pick up the rest of our curtains and somehow explain to Will that he was right and I had not paid attention- despite promising that I had.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

Unfortunately, through a series of events, I never went and picked up the curtains.

And every three months or so, the nice dry cleaners (because they’re so darn friendly, of course!) called and left me messages to pick up my freaking curtains.

Only for some reason, like a bad episode of Seinfeld, the calls deterred me from going. Too much time had passed! It would be too awkward! I was “that annoying girl with the two curtains!” I just couldn’t do it. Not to mention I wasn’t going to be wrong. Let’s not forget that whole matter.

Which is funny too because at some point Will would have opened up the bag to hang those girly curtains in his man’s room only to realize he was missing two.

However, when you’re doing stupid things such as avoiding picking up curtains YOU OWN from your dry cleaners, you’re just not thinking logically.

...

Okay, so anyway-

Let’s not forget that throughout this time I still had to get my clothes dry cleaned. Only, I for sure couldn’t go to the nice cleaners! How could I show my face there? I was the weird girl with a complex that wouldn’t pick up her curtains FOR NO GOOD REASON. So, I had to resort to the sketchy cleaners.

And soon realized that I couldn’t do that for long.

And then it turned 2010.

A new year. A year of new chances. Perhaps I would pick up my curtains?

The truth is, by then I had totally forgotten about those curtains. I mean, it had almost been a year. A year!

So pathetic.

I was quickly reminded of the curtain issue yet again when I needed to get something dry cleaned. Only I didn’t and nicely laid the item to the side in my closet.

And did it again.

And again.

And again.

Until my nice little pile became a little ridiculous. Plus I’m pretty sure Will began to wonder what in the world I was doing.

“Oh sorry honey- I don’t want to risk you coming home while I’m sneaking in the curtains I swore to you were already there!”

Did I mention pathetic?

At the time it didn’t seem so awful. Only now do I realize how utterly ridiculous I was.

So, two weeks ago I got another call from the cleaners saying that if I didn’t pick up my curtains within 30 days they were going to get rid of them.

I mean, even nice dry cleaners have their limits, right? Understandably.

So I realized I was going to have to do something. I began laughing to myself over the whole entire series of events, which meant I had to share my story with someone.

My mom and sister are visiting for a couple of weeks, so I told the whole lame story to them- which made them laugh. Of course they had the same expected questions of, “Why didn’t you just get them!?” and “Didn’t you think about the fact that at some point Will would have found out there were only 2 curtains instead of 4?”

Good times.

Anyway, we had a good laugh about the whole thing and I decided that I was going to go in there and get those freaking crimson curtains. I was going to use the whole, “My phone changed and I just checked my messages recently” excuse.

You know, because that makes perfect sense.

So I was resolved to go and do it, only later that day I got a text from my sister telling me that she had beat me to the punch. Apparently my mom went and got them for me! And not only that, but that awkwardness I had feared for so long? Wasn’t there at all. My mom had used the truth, “I have been out of the country for a while,” which made me laugh. What’s really annoying is that I had already paid for the curtains! I’m so weird sometimes.

My mom had saved the day, and I really could have taken care of the whole thing an entire YEAR before, had I not been such a crazy.

The only thing that remains now is to bring them home, as they are currently hiding out in my parent’s house. After having to go through this whole rigamarole I wasn’t about to just parade them into the house, so I will sneak them in later this week.

Because that’s what crazy wives do. And they’re always right.

Always right.

Yes. I get it. My last twenty-five posts have somehow centered back to food. I clearly have a problem. I should be on Maury or Montel or The View discussing my awful obsession with frosting and dinners and celebrations that center around both.

Or maybe just the sick obsession with frosting.

I realize the food posts need to stop. However, today something happened that I simply had to share. I found myself hovering over the sink thinking, “Wow. I really don’t want to tell anyone about the shame I just experienced.”

And then five minutes later I was in the car laughing thinking, “Ahaha, I have to tell someone about this.”

So here we are.

Tomorrow is Will’s birthday. Yesterday we drove down to Will’s parent’s house to celebrate his birthday. We went to eat and afterwards Will’s mom sent us home with a dirty cake.

Heh heh. Dirty cake.

Doesn’t it just sound sleazy? Like you need to be listening to Keith Sweat or R. Kelly while you take the lid off? Or like you should be slathering it in some sort of edible oil?

Sorry for the visual. Let’s get back on track.

Anyway- dirty cake. Us. Taking it home.

We brought the cake home but didn’t have any last night. Which meant there was untouched cake in my house for more than 12 hours, which is pretty much a miracle.

In fact you may want to check page 22A of your local newspaper. I bet I’m in there.

So today for lunch I had to run to the post office to mail off my transcripts for my school application. I had already brought my lunch to work with me, so there was really no need for me to go home for lunch yet somehow I found myself getting into the car, as if on autopilot, and driving home. You know, to let Boz and Lucy out. Wink.

So I get there, let them out, and am standing around the kitchen thinking, “What am I doing here?” Knowing full well what was really going on in my mind. The cake.

So, I play with a little fire and open the fridge- and there it is.

In fact, as I opened the fridge I’m pretty sure I heard some Marvin Gaye playing in the back of the Crisper area- and as soon as I shut the fridge the music went away.

I peeked it open again, to be greeted with the same sound. Only this time I exercised some degree of willpower and got a nectarine.

Because, as we all know, nectarines are just as satisfying as chocolatey cake, yes?

I finished the nectarine and really realize I need to go back to work.

I mean that is Will’s cake! His mom made it for him! It’s meant for us to share it together in honor of his special day. What sort of sick, awful, hormonal person eats their husband’s birthday ca…

And before I could finish the word, there I was. Standing over the sink trying to slyly carve out a tiny piece of dirty cake so that Will would never know someone sampled it before he did. Only the tiny sliver soon became about half a cup.

Wow.

An all time low, I thought to myself.

So what was I to do!? I couldn’t let Will know I was such a selfish awful wife!

Think, Brittny, Think!

Ahaha!

If you’ve ever had dirty cake, you know that it’s topped with whip cream.

So, in my genius, I went to the freezer and pulled out our gigantic tub of Cool Whip.

Because, as you know, every two person household has a costco size bucket of Cool Whip in their house.

I went to work, almost artist-like, filling in the “tiny” hole I had created, and spreading the oreos overtop.

Brilliant.Before I knew it- Tada! Good as new. Like I never ate a giant hole through Will’s birthday cake.

So now I don’t feel so much like a heel. Now I simply feel like I need to spend all week at the gym.

I made myself laugh, so I figured I’d share the moment with you all.

Happy Monday!

I think there’s something about getting older that seems to squeeze the fun spontaneity and creativity out of a person. I was convinced that would never be me. Ha! Let a mortgage and responsibilities turn me into a boring old tool? Never! Well- here I am at home on a Friday night blogging. I might as well be drinking Metamucil and reading an AARP magazine. Perhaps the lack of creativity and the pain I experience trying to squeeze some amount of pithiness on this screen has kept me from blogging- oh, you know, for like a YEAR now.

Did you guys know that when I started blogging, way back in 2005, when my posts were actually pretty funny (and annoying. I went back and read some the other day and wow- I found a way to add a smiley face to freaking EVERYTHING. It really annoyed me. A lot. In fact I contemplated going in and removing the thousands-yes thousands- of smileys that occurred from 2005 to about 2007 but I refrained) that it was mostly right after I moved to Kuwait and wasn’t working? Translation- I had hours upon hours of time on my hands to create brilliant works of art (okay- I’m kidding, but you get the point). I would spend a ridiculous amount of time phrasing each post. Putting a lot of thought and love into every smiley face I placed (haha).

Then I started working. I use that term loosely. My boss once told me to shop online for work. Yes. No lie. Your tax dollars hard at work. Which meant once again I had plenty of time to blog and pontificate and create smiley works of art (again- kidding with the works of art stuff).

And then I changed jobs. And was actually busy. However, I still had access to my blog at work which meant I could type a few sentences (with smileys of course ) here and there and by the end of the day have a full fledge post ready to go.

And then we moved to America. Where I had tons of time on my hands all of a sudden. What a weird feeling. I should have been a blogging machine! Yet I wasn’t. When I look back at the decline of my posting it all started when we moved back, which is sort of weird. I’ve contemplated it before and there are a lot of reasons. Don’t worry. We won’t explore them. I guess I thought being back here would make me more consistent and it did the total opposite.

So lately I’ve wondered if I actually still like blogging anymore. And I haven’t come up with an answer. I hope it’s okay to be this honest with you. I really don’t know if I like posting anymore. I used to love it. It was my “passion.” My “thing.” Wow! Getting a little crazy with the quotations. They may be the new smileys.

That’s me being honest. I don’t know how I feel about blogging anymore and honestly it sort of makes me feel sad. It makes me feel sad that something so important to me could possibly not be important to me anymore. I know it sounds silly to feel sadness when I think about it, but I do. How is it that you can feel so strongly and so resolved about something at some point in time only to change your mind? I mean, I know that sometimes circumstances change the way you feel about something, but my blog didn’t change. I didn’t really change… I just sort of stopped caring. Why do you think that happens? I mean, I still enjoy writing. In fact I’m willingly freaking enrolling myself in school to pursue my masters- where I will be writing and writing and writing until I might want to die. Yet, again, I enjoy writing. It’s something I like. So why the blog lapse? I know that’s what you’re thinking.

Anyway, I’ve thought about a few options if I’m going to keep this thing active. I think I will try them and see how it works. Don’t worry, I will not now go into some long drawn out vow to post. Scouts honor.

Wow. You guys got like this whole long blog history. Definitely more than you wanted or bargained for. I will say, though, I have this feeling few people are reading my blog these days and the crazy thing about that is that it makes me SO HAPPY. I know I said I wouldn’t get into the reasons why I went “dark” (Ahh! Again with the quotations!), but I will say that very issue is definitely one of the reasons. I went from being a blog attention sleaze- pay attention to me! Read my blog!- to really resenting the fact that people I knew personally were reading my blog and judging me and that the potential for running into them at Walmart was all of a sudden a real possibility. That is one thing that I really hate. Which can be remedied I suppose…

Okay. Enough of the blogging talk. I’m annoying myself which means you- assuming you’re still reading- are VERY annoyed. Oh, sorry, I mean “very annoyed.”

So there’s actually been some things going on in my life. Where should I start?

Let’s not waste time elaborating on crap. I’ll just give you the high points.

I got a promotion this year! I now how a fancy, shiny “Sr.” in my title. Something about being a senior- a S-R-period- is so exciting to me. I was pretty excited about it.

I decided to get my Masters. Mainly because I’m a glutton for punishment and obviously don’t like myself very much. I’m going to study Organizational Communication. I tried, really tried to make myself get my MBA- because really, isn’t every other Masters a waste?- but the more I looked at everything and considered the whole package I wanted to drive a stake in my left eye, so I decided if I was going to willingly go back I should study something I would like- hence the degree choice.

Will and I are the same. Actually, we’re pretty darn good. We went through a rough patch over the last few months, which was the first one we’ve had in our 6 years of marriage, which I guess is pretty good? I don’t know. I guess it’s normal, which is what I had to realize. For so long I was used to us having this picture perfect life and marriage and then to go through a period where I was frustrated all the time was sort of like a reality check- like “Hello!! You’re freaking NORMAL. It happens sometimes.” You know? Anyway, it was sort of like- “Ahh, okay- so this is what that whole for better for worse stuff means.” (Wow. Again with the quotations. Sorry! I will now supplement with a smiley. Because we all agree they’re so darn great, right? )

I turned 27 this April. Which isn’t old, yet in some ways it seems as though it sort of is. My 20s are starting to come to a close and I’m a big fat grownup. I have been for quite some time now, but turning 27 really hit me. Not necessarily in a bad way.

Will turns 30 on the 27th. Which may hit me harder than it hits him. We shall see. Will’s dad turns 60 this year and we’re going to do a weekend a Branson (a quick whirlwind weekend full of lots of driving there and back) to celebrate. Will and I hope to take a trip for his big day but it will be postponed.

Still no babies. Which makes our families sad. But it’s just not something we’re talking about yet.

Speaking of families, I did mention to you that my parents are moving two doors down from me, right? If THAT’S not enough to thrust me back into the blog world quite honestly, I don’t know what is.

I still eat like crap most of the time. I don’t think there’s any need to elaborate on that. Besides, there’s like a daily story about it.

I got a personal trainer for a month and it was so freaking great and I loved every painful, sweaty, drippy, yell-y minute of it. I only wish I could afford him all the time. Plus I’m pretty sure it would allow me to justify a calorie increase. Bummer I can’t really justify it now.

We have a wedding tomorrow and Will gets to dress up again which is exciting since I never see him in a tux. In fact that’s one of the reasons that I’m still awake.  I couldn’t take off work today, so he went to the rehearsal by himself and I stayed here. He’s on his way home (it’s a 2 hour drive) but I figure by the time I get to sleep he’ll come in and wake me up so I might as well just stay awake. And possibly eat something terrible. I rarely stay up past 10 but I’ve been told that people that stay up late snack. I believe it’s called a “midnight snack?” (AHH! Attack of the quotations). Yes… a midnight snack sounds great.

So I think that’s the recent highlights since my last post. I guess in a sense, the highlights were of themselves a bit of a snack. Tiny pieces of information totally unhealthy for you yet necessary at midnight.

Help me to remember to tell you guys the life group story. It’s pretty funny and worth telling but I think I’ve written enough for tonight.

And it feels good to just get on here and unload. Really good.

Thank you blog, for putting up with my crap and just being here.

Thank you friends, for reading and understanding.

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.