Oh, god, I HATE dieting.
HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.
Oh, for the days when I could just give up beer and desserts for three weeks and lose twenty pounds.
And, for that body I used to have - you know, that body I used to have when I thought I was fat? That body? I feel as though I would literally kill for it. (Well, maybe not a person, but...um, at least a goldfish. An old goldfish. That was depressed.)
Hey, everyone, I'm back. Re-blogging commenced. Sorry I'm depressed and fat.
It's been a busy summer so far. The Reader's Digest version: Right after school got out, we drove to Fayetteville, AR, for a lovely visit with Trish and Mike, and their two beautiful boys.
Here's the YG and the OG in a pretty Fayetteville park with a super-cool outside sculpture/playscape fixture:
We swung in to swingin' Branson, Missouri for a two-night stay at a hotel with! A waterpark! Right in the hotel! (And, we went to Silver Dollar City, wherein my children were finally met with the penance promised them after the twelve-hour car ride:)
Oh, sure, you laugh at us, in Branson, with you all off on your Paris or London jaunts. But did YOU get hand-made peanut brittle?
I didn't think so.
Tomorrow: Kansas City! And Port Aransas!
Glad to be back, everyone. I've missed this. Forgotten how therapeutic it is. I'd actually go on more this evening, but we're FINALLY FINALLY getting to watch Battlestar Galactica from Netflix, (starting with the mini-series; I've missed it all) and if I don't watch it now, my window is closed.
Must go get my geek on now...