Entries Tagged as 'Don’t look at my feet.'

It’s not you, it’s me! Grab a pillow. I’m about to make you very sleepy!

January 9th, 2012 · 30 Comments · Daily, Don't look at my feet.

Today is a good day, because the only events for which I need to leave my house are: Get Gas and Take Kids to Piano Lessons. Get Gas is normally paired up with Create Gas Station Cherry Vanilla Diet Dr. Pepper, and Piano Lessons always means One Hour of Knitting. So, despite the fact that [...]

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Peter Frampton and Shoes – Peter Frampton + A Touch of Anxiety

January 6th, 2012 · 11 Comments · Daily, Don't look at my feet.

When Jeff goes out of town, I tend to be a really great parent for about three days. After the third day, I get tired and cranky and “IF YOU CAN’T HELP YOUR SISTER, THEN I CAN’T HELP YOU!!!” Bedtimes go from 8:00 to 7:45 to 7:30 when Jeff is out of town. Today is [...]

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Bad Wheels and Baby Heads

September 29th, 2011 · 17 Comments · A Dog's Life, Don't look at my feet., Sit and Spin

A week has passed, and my ankle is still messed up. “Go to the DOCTOR!” you say, and to that I reply, “I did!” Last Friday my sister was in town and the two of us went to Fleet Feet where she bought some amazing socks, and I was fitted for running shoes. Although the [...]

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Pudding Down!

September 22nd, 2011 · 19 Comments · Don't look at my feet., Stump Stirrings

You know, I rarely start things out like this, but: Damnit. As you know, I’ve been running. I leave the house at around 5:30 in the morning, I get to the gym at 5:36, I sit in the parking lot and blow my nose 37 times because I’m one of those people who has to [...]

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I try not to whine. (Today I’m not trying very hard.)

August 17th, 2011 · 21 Comments · A Dog's Life, Don't look at my feet.

Last night at approximately 12:52, the cat freaked out, jumped onto the bed, and attacked my feet. It was a three Band-Aid attack, and it has set the mood for the morning. (If I was a mood ring wearing person, today would be something like black or red or flame throwing or whatever color symbolizes [...]

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Nutter Butter is the Blizzard of the Month. I’ve already had four of them.

August 11th, 2011 · 13 Comments · Daily, Don't look at my feet.

Because I’m not a fan of crowds, last year I often found myself stressing out before PTO meetings even though my only obligation for those meetings was to walk into the school library, find an empty seat, sit down in that seat, and then find my way out to the car when the meeting was [...]

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I’ve got friends in low places.

August 4th, 2011 · 12 Comments · Daily, Don't look at my feet.

I know I’ve gone on about this before. But seriously. I had to share this with you. I wasn’t sure how to respond this morning when my feminine protection suggested I go play. “I’ve got your back,” said the tampon, “Really. Go play.” “Well, okay then!” I replied as I pumped my fist into the [...]

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Tonight I gave a cake ball to someone who has never had one. (I’d like to buy the world a Coke.)

May 3rd, 2011 · 18 Comments · Daily, Don't look at my feet.

My mom and I had lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings this afternoon, and I ordered what I always order: Grilled Chicken Buffalitos without the chicken. (I hit the nine month mark of being meat-free last week! The Buffalitos don’t need the chicken if they have the sauce!) Anyway, when our order arrived, my Buffalitos had [...]

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Ghandi does not rhyme with Tuesday.

April 26th, 2011 · Comments Off · Daily, Don't look at my feet., Will it make me sick?

I just spent nearly 30 seconds trying to think of a word that rhymes with Tuesday. When I didn’t feel like wasting any more of my time (It’s worth over twenty bucks an hour at times! Other times? It’s worth absolutely nothing! You’ll never hear me complain!), I typed a search into the Internet. I [...]

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Unlike her mother, Meredith can cut a rug! Figuratively!

March 14th, 2011 · 22 Comments · Daily, Don't look at my feet.

When I was in the seventh grade, I went to a dance. Less than thirty minutes after arriving (and feeling like someone from another land as I watched over 100 people smiling and air-knocking simultaneously to Who Can It Be Now), I knew that dances were not my thing. After a bit of semi-frantic wandering [...]

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