How I learned to parallel park

You can't top this piece of bad-ass-mamma-jamma kinda car.

This is how I learned to parallel park.

In 1992.

It was a beating.

I mean, the vinyl paneling mimicking wood.

How is that not completely ballin?

Thank the Awesome Lord Above for car-intervention.

My father never made me drive this once I earned my license.

I'd have died a thousand times over.

Running and pedicures don't go together

As an endurance distance runner (wow, did I just say that out loud for all the world to hear), I realize that investing in my piggies and getting them pampered every 3-4 weeks is not worth the ache of having the polish wear off sooner than expected, and it's not worth the gnarly look of my toes after logging 10 miles.

And it's officially open toe season here in Hell's Kitchen and while I would love to fork over $40 for a monthly splurge on my feet with a nice foot massage to boot, it just isn't worth the investment.  The polish doesn't stay on nearly long enough, the lasting pleasure of a foot rub ends all to soon and my toes are eating through my socks.

Thus, I've  stopped pampering my feet.  I've stopped falling asleep in a recliner at the salon.  I've stopped dipping my aching feet into a warm bath of sea salts and lavender smells.  Instead, I'm out buying more socks and new kicks for another round of 10-mile Saturdays.

Never thought I would be THAT girl who passed up Sunday pedicare time, but apparently training for a half marathon is better for my soul.

Via

Who doesn't love happy drugs?

Sometimes there's nothing better than drunken dentist visit videos.

I'm a wizard and I bet you put a spell on me.

You can thank me later.

Skinny White Jeans

My mother is asking me questions about their upcoming trip to Istanbul and the words, "skinny white jeans for men" and "packing your father's clothes for the trip" come into play. We've got some serious problems going on in that household that even Carson Kressly can't handle.

 

 

 This is soooo not how my Pops would roll.

D-A-A-B

DEPRESSION

An awful, evil, debilitating disease.

AGING

An uncontrollable human experience.

There is no fountain of youth. 

There is no magic pill. 

There is no turning back the clock.

APRIL

The month of my birth during some year in the 70s.

The month in which I will have to add another year to the speedometer.

The month where Texas experiences wicked storms and tornadoes.

If I never see rain again it will be too soon.

BIRTHDAYS

Used to look forward to them.

Now I dread them. 

Since my mid-twenties, I’ve never been a big birthday person.

It’s just a reminder I am closer to 40.

A reminder that while everyone else moves on, I go to bed each night alone.

A reminder I am another year older and wonder do I have enough money for retirement?

Dear Pinot Grigio,

It’s American Bridget calling.  Send a case to my doorstep.  Lent is nearing the end, and I can once again consume you.  And while April is a month I can’t get excited about, I need you with me.  Come quickly.

Love,
AB

 To be this age again...

We're approaching stage 10 OCD

You've met my foster dog.
He's STILL looking for his forever home.
But you, Internets, have been great in providing me ideas for his Bucket List.
And for that, he thanks you.

In the meantime, this dog is approaching the ultimate stage of OCD.

When sleeping, apparently it is important to surround yourself with your most prized possessions.

And no, the guest bed does not usually look this nasty and skanky but I gave up and let him own it.