A weekend like fine chocolate

or fresh strawberries...

a night out with my Mr.,
a 5k in the misty, cold morning
delicious breakfast
hanging with Becky,
a brief, warm embrace from a too-long missing Chaz
riding the train to the stadium
for 6th row center tickets to the Salt Lake Real--
our brand new major league soccer team.
the kids' first time on a train,
the game a first for all of us.
pure family joy from start to finish--
great times.

today, the sun is shining and hubby and his 8 year old are golfing.
my littles are as ornery as a couple of bees stuck in a window...
and shall be shipped off to Nap-ville soon.
soon.
not soon enough, but soon.
maybe I'll shower.
maybe not.
we got new pillows--
of which we've been in desperate need.
they are ENORMOUS.
and I am horny for them.
I guess, technically, I could hump them,
but somehow that seems wrong.
they're my pillows for fuck's sake!

anywho.
I am keeping a sloppy countodown
of days left til I turn 30.
this is supposed to be motivating me to
LOSE SOME GOD DAMN WEIGHT, YOU COW.
but it's not really working.
I have psychoanalyzed myself and discovered
something:
the reason I can't stop eating.
it's fairly interesting,
and since knowing is half the battle,
hopefully I can nip it in the bud.
or at least correct the behavior.
and no, I'm not going to divulge that here.
(just to be a bitch.)

and I wish I could stop dreaming about bloggers--
or at least, there should be more sex.
last night it was sergei and mona and something about my Lexus (??) and a rather horrifying situation involving my husband and I deciding to put THIS house on the market, and move again!
zoiks.
that would be a suicidal/homicidal/maniacal move.
for shore.
anywho, it was bizarre and made little sense, as do most of my dreams.

and today I'm reveling in my pj-wearing,
house-cleaning,
coffee-drinking
-ness.
I love making up insanely fake words.
the less coherant the better, that's my motto!