Never Bake A Baby

i have always been under a rather strange opinion that fat looks better when its a healthy skin cancer brown. i truly believe that somehow my love handles look just a touch smaller when camoflauged by the suns brilliant kiss. so as much as i hate to admit this (because i do know the dangers of skin cancer and all its ugly cancer cousins...) i usually hit a tanning booth occasionally during the late winter so my welsh pasty skin takes on a mildly skandinavian glow...(apparently i am the spawn of the whitest people on the earth but somehow i ended up with an olive-ish completion) so i ventured into alien territory yesterday on the suggestion of a co-worker that has white skin as well....sunless tanner she said!!! no baking of the baby involved! because we all know 'never bake a baby' in a tanning bed geez!

so guess what? i used the self tanner from Bath and Body Works, and i am a lightly baked hazelnut today and my darling peanut baby is safe from being cooked to a crisp. and guess what else? just like the ad says...i looked just like this gal from the flyer when i was done... crazy shit huh! i am in my bikini as we speak...should make for an interesting day at the old office.

My Dream Job

my dream jobby job is to write books...however i am lacking a very important item...a subject. any ideas? i mean its not like my amazing parenting skills merit telling others, and my relationship tips would sink the most secure marriage...mine stays together with glue and paper clips (oh yah, and the love of a very patient guy)...and i dont have anything to write a 'how to' book about because i dont really know how to properly do anything...and my grammar and english are horrid. but thats what publishers and editors are for right?

so essentially all i have is my crass, sarcastic attitude and no experience at anything except work, alcohol, poor sleep habits, stuborn pig headed kids, and past drug abuse. (thats a long story) Oh my god, i could be James Frey! well minus the stubborn 7 year old! Yes!!! i guess i can write the sequal to his book, then Oprah and i can have a couch pow-wow until i say something she doesnt like, then she will use her god-like powers to smash me like a twig.

so i guess i dont need your answers and suggestions after all...its all set. me+oprah=b.f.f. see you on the show.

Renderings Drive Designer to Kill Boss...Film at Eleven.

have you ever had a project that really excited you at first ? then in the blink of an eye it took all you found dear and true and smashed it into little microscopic peices that you hated? Hated!! well that is the story of renderings and me. for those of you unschooled in the term rendering its an artistic representation used to show peeps how a home could perceptually look when it is complete, or made of stone, or stucco...etc...etc. boring stuff right? well not if you are a gal who is way more interested in the way a home looks aestetically than it actually standing up! (please dont tell my boss i said that) and so for a gal who also loves to draw and paint a rendering kicks ass. it means i spend my days drawing homes by hand and sketching and coloring...sound like kindegarden? well screw off its hard, but until today i found it enjoyable. but a wise man once told me..."never make your hobby your job." and you know what? he was right. today i do not find a hint of joy in it...not one. and if i see another watercolor pen, or my damn sketch pad i will scream and run as fast as i can from the building. (well as fast as i can on a krutch) i know i will be back to a love-love relationship with my job tommorow, but as for today folks...its hate-hate. wish me luck.

and the kicker...i thought it was thursday all day today! i totally thought tommorow was friday! what a holy let down.

Look Like a Pig to You?

just a thought here...subliminal messaging? does anyone see the piggy face in the Cleveland Police Logo? just me huh? well...just thought i would check.

Oh Karma, why now?

i have been struck by a bout of what appears to be Kharma at its finest...after laughing at my poor younger sister who is pregnant and broke her toe falling down the stairs (come on, all we said was "did she fall or was she pushed!" refering to a mean mother in law who has not been as warm and fuzzy to Kylee as i feel she should be!) and what happens? guess who's clumsy chunky butt is now hufting around on Krutches? (which my 7 year old keeps refering to as crothches, and it's so funny i dont dare correct him!! i think if he says it again i might make a quiet correction, but after one more good laugh please) yup, i am apparently too chunky for my own good and my feet are apparently failing on me! ok, apparently i mostly just cant walk on high heels and sprained and pulled the stuff that holds your foot on! i never claimed to have attended Ms. Kluckindale's school for manners and etiquette where you learn to walk on those blasted shoes anyways...so screw you for judging me for being clumsy...sheesh. a bad shoe accident can happen to anyone! and i thought what a better time than almost 8 months pregnant? why not? a little time on crotches is good for a gal...reminds you how nice it is to be able to use the bathroom in the middle of the night with out the aid of a pair of metal legs! damn you krutches, damn you little sprained feet, and damn you guy at the gas station who stood there while me and my metal legs got tangled in the damn door and stared at me like an asshole for holding up your ever-so-fucking-important day! good monday to you.

Cant Help Myself!

i am so immature i know! i really do know...but come on!!!
i saw this on another site and had to put this pic on here. i am pretty sure this is the lowest point i stoop to before i commit myself...its almost friday right? now i will go back to being an adult...

Blah, Blah, Blah...Part 3

Please see definition for fed up and frustrated before reading this so we can be on the same level...did you look it up? ok then do me a favor, also stab yourself in the eye with a pen so we are really on a level emotional field...ok, then we can continue...

so say i had given you some paperwork a month ago...and just for shits and giggles let's say i asked you about it every other day for the last 4 weeks...would you get the impression i felt it an important issue? would you be under the impression i had a deadline of sorts? would you get the fucking idea from the smoke barreling out of my adorable little ears that i was on the edge of a melt down brought on by your lack of follow thru and decision making skills? or am i crazy to assume that the sentence that sounds a lot like this..."please get these answers so i can have this material completed by deadline...." would lead you to actually do your job as my boss? hey, instead of getting me my answers hows about you go skiing for the day? or motorcycle riding to Texas? or hell just be anywhere but here so when this project crashes and burns we can blame me for not trying hard enough to get the damned answers form you and everyone else...

and if that doesnt work let me know ok, because i will happily surf the net, and blog away about my hatred and catch up on my internet porn...

Stress Reduction at it's finest...

This could be the most fun i have had all morning. this is also the highest i plan on my mental capacity being today! clicky clicky!! follow the linky!!

http://uk.download.yahoo.com/ne/fu/attachments/bubblewrap.swf

pop away...pop until your hearts content and then please for the love of Pete click the new sheet button!!! who'd uh thunk it...electronic packing bubbles to pop...technology at its finest!

thanks to the Precision Craft team for sending that over...i count on you boys helping me waste my time...

Vicious Retaliation!

so sister...you come to me on the eve of my financial demise and you mock? you poke the bear? well miss amelia to her fans...must i remind the sister whose comments on my last post were accusatory and completely false...i was merely stating the current situation i am in! and good point on the fetal fotos. tu che'. however, i believe my entry was pointing to exactly that! i live far beyond my means when i dont need to! i can afford to live, just not to the level i have become accustomed! : ) so little miss hector projector, might i remind you oh yee of little money, you are going on a week long trip to New Orleans next week! and let me re-cap when your last trip to New Orleans was...hmmm....FAT TUESDAY RING A BELL?? less than 2 weeks ago!! for a poor starving college student you sure take a lot of vacations sister. so stick that in your pipe and smoke it sis. and by the way, i was not fishing for hand outs from mom and dad, i leave that to you! heeheeheehee (cue maniacle laughter) oh yes, that last one felt good, real good!

(i am replying to my sassy sisters comments on my last entry in case you folks think i have completely lost my mind and am arguing with the voices in my head. )

One Good Lookin Plaster Kidlet!

well i gotsta say my friends...that is one cute plaster baby we are having. it looks a little creepy, but not nearly as creepy as i thought! it looks like we gooped up baby in that plaster you made ashtrays and bongs out of in crafts class in highschool and took the photo. we are getting another "fetal foto shoot" next week due to stubborn baby not staying still long enough to get a good shot at her/his face! but for now this profile of aforementioned adorable baby is good enough! i will update soon with new pics.

On second thought...

reading back over my last post i have decided i sound a little nuerotic (thats a freakin understatement if i have ever heard one) and am going to strive to not concentrate on the jiggle factor i am experienceing these days...no jiggle bashing for this girl...i will bask in my roundness and find glory in my girth. did that sound convincing? because it felt like a load of bull shit rolling off my tongue...

Fat Girl Walkin'

ok, so when did i become this self absorbed? when did every thought revolve around how tubby my chunky ass looks when i am trotting around? because thats how i get from spot A to spot B apparently...i trot. is it pregnancy induced? is it hormonal? is it the product of sly marketing schemes by corporate america to smash my self esteem and tell me i am bad chelsea for not being a 2?

well either way i fear i have gone over the edge of self-coconsciousness folks. and here's the saddest part (besides the obvioius fact i have no idea how to properly use an appostraphe and many other gramarical errors) i have put on like 18-20 pounds thus far...and its fuckin killing me...everytime i step i feel something jiggle! i cant even decipher where the jiggle is coming from but i know its there. i am being stalked by jiggle and it's driving me mad, but here lies the saddest part...

i have put on 20 pounds pregnant, killing me, i have put on 10-15 pounds on drinking binges in the past that didnt phase me at all...not at all! because i had the loving comfort of booze to protect my fragile psyche from the fat that was collecting around my tubby little gut. well now i have to face tubbs-ville on a sober tip and let me tell you folks, its lame...really lame. so i am not sure what that points to more, my obvious over-love of alcohol or the obvious sad level of Chelsea McSelf Absorbed i have reached...the jury is still out. i will keep you posted. (in case you were wondering i can seriously feel my ass spreading out as sit here at my desk typing)