So, last week I was driving to work in this ridiculous storm, I’m talking, monsoon rains, crazy winds---you know when you’re carrying your umbrella and it’s so windy that your umbrella actually folds itself inside out and you’re like---great, good thing I have this…yeah, well it was that kind of day…where I’m practically making out with my steering wheel because I can’t see through the windshield ---and I come up to this stoplight where I actually see this dude riding his bicycle, holding his umbrella…and I’m like WOW, that’s commitment…we get it, you’re environmentally friendly!
I mean, how can I not hit him right? But I don’t have time to get into an accident---So I roll down my window and toss him a token---and I’m like "Dude, today might be a day for public transit…no one’s gonna judge you! Just sayin'!"
Peace, Love, and it's not easy being GREEN!
xoT.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
TMI???
I hate acronyms! You know, like use your words! Do we actually think that we are saving time or is it just cool to be exclusive? I’m a teacher, so I’m a 1.0 FT with the TDSB and tomorrow..I gotta hand in my ALP, I got a PLC meeting to discuss my students IEPs and then I have to supervise the EQAOs. Leggo my eggo WHAT? Like why are we speaking in this F-ed up way? It’s like short hand for the mouth and I can think of a lot better things to do with my mouth…
...LIKE EATING!!! LOL!
I want to be in a relationship because I am so tired of dieting. I want to hook up and eat. And I want 10 years into it kind of eating where it’s okay that there’s food on my face and I’m eating left-overs from my boob tray. Cause I’m a binger! I stand in my kitchen like a zombie mesmerized by the hand to mouth motion. Someone needs to plan an intervention with me, because I live alone and the brown outs can last for hours. It’s like an episode of amnesia. I actually have to take inventory of my kitchen afterwards...
What the hell did I do in here? Olives dipped in peanut butter? GROSS! Well, hang on a minute, let me make sure it’s gross…
I can pass through all 7 stages of grief in the amount of time it takes to hit up a McDonalds Drive thru – starting with shock and denial—Oh no you didn’t just order 3 bigmac combos, supersize the fries with a diet coke…and as I’m pulling out of the parking lot wiping special sauce off my face, I reach the final stage of acceptance….
I’m fine that I’m Ronnie McDonnie’s Baby Mama!
But my dance clothes leave nothing to the imagination, so food babies can be hard to conceal…but at least I get a discount on all my dance clothes because my friend is the AMBASSADOR of Lululemon---yep the ambassador!!! Yeah true story - this is a actually a real thing where you have to apply for it and then they put your picture up in the entrance way and they give you like a thousand dollars of free stuff and all you have to do is report back on it ---like: "These pants didn't wash too well, like the first time I washed them, they were see-through after that...so that's not going to be a good look for the downward dog, right???" I mean, why does SHE get to be the ambassador???? I guess because she lives the Lululemon lifestyle, you know, like drinking water and breathing in fresh air or whatever. And I was soooo jealous, immediately I started fantasizing over what I could be the ambassador of…
and then it just totally hit me. Oh my gosh, I’m perfect for it! Hello???
THE LCBO!!!!!!!!!!
Peace, Love, and LMAO!!! WHAT???? OKAY!
xoT.
...LIKE EATING!!! LOL!
I want to be in a relationship because I am so tired of dieting. I want to hook up and eat. And I want 10 years into it kind of eating where it’s okay that there’s food on my face and I’m eating left-overs from my boob tray. Cause I’m a binger! I stand in my kitchen like a zombie mesmerized by the hand to mouth motion. Someone needs to plan an intervention with me, because I live alone and the brown outs can last for hours. It’s like an episode of amnesia. I actually have to take inventory of my kitchen afterwards...
What the hell did I do in here? Olives dipped in peanut butter? GROSS! Well, hang on a minute, let me make sure it’s gross…
I can pass through all 7 stages of grief in the amount of time it takes to hit up a McDonalds Drive thru – starting with shock and denial—Oh no you didn’t just order 3 bigmac combos, supersize the fries with a diet coke…and as I’m pulling out of the parking lot wiping special sauce off my face, I reach the final stage of acceptance….
I’m fine that I’m Ronnie McDonnie’s Baby Mama!
But my dance clothes leave nothing to the imagination, so food babies can be hard to conceal…but at least I get a discount on all my dance clothes because my friend is the AMBASSADOR of Lululemon---yep the ambassador!!! Yeah true story - this is a actually a real thing where you have to apply for it and then they put your picture up in the entrance way and they give you like a thousand dollars of free stuff and all you have to do is report back on it ---like: "These pants didn't wash too well, like the first time I washed them, they were see-through after that...so that's not going to be a good look for the downward dog, right???" I mean, why does SHE get to be the ambassador???? I guess because she lives the Lululemon lifestyle, you know, like drinking water and breathing in fresh air or whatever. And I was soooo jealous, immediately I started fantasizing over what I could be the ambassador of…
and then it just totally hit me. Oh my gosh, I’m perfect for it! Hello???
THE LCBO!!!!!!!!!!
Peace, Love, and LMAO!!! WHAT???? OKAY!
xoT.
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