How Could 24 Years Just Up And Walk Away?

She was in the backyard, say it was a little past nine

When her prince pulled up........a big pickup truck

Her folks should of seen it comin'. It was only just a matter of time
Plenty old enough............and you can't stop love.

Now her daddy's on his Harley just scratchin' and a rackin' his brains

How could 24 years just up and walk away?

Our little pony-tail girl growed up to be a woman

Now she's gone in the blink of an eye

She left her childhood behind and is ready to walk down the aisle

FELIZ CUMPLEANOS, LLAMA!

I have seen you grow as a woman over these past couple of years,

and I am beyond proud that I will get to call you my sister someday soon.

Your personality lights up a room,

and come September 15th - you will finally have your moment in the spotlight!

It may have been a long journey,

but in year 24 you have truly found your happiness.

It may be hard to imagine,

but I wish you a 25th year of life as fabulous as the 24th.

Cultural Diversity Education

It has come to my attention in discussing Hispanic traditions during wedding planning that Officer Bob is in dire need of some cultural diversity education.

(All the Spanish he knows, he learned from Dora the Explorer - seriously.)

An impromptu lesson took place in a recent car ride.

Lesson 1: Translate Lyrics from Traditional Mexican Music



Remind me next time that Titty Baby is NOT invited to educational sessions.

His translation is slightly skewed and slightly racist.

In other words, I don't approve of the influence Officer Bob's brother-in-law has on his perception of the Mexican culture.

Stay Tuned for Lesson 2: How to Harvest Jalepenos.

P.S. That is not poor audio quality in the video. It is the embarrassing sound of Officer Bob's "system." This is what I put up with on a daily basis. Anyone looking for an obnoxiously loud speaker system, feel free to let me know. Officer Bob could not place blame on his innocent fiance as long as we can make it's disappearance look like an accident.

I Am Not An Athlete

Friends, relatives, and
acquaintances that think you know me better than you really do:

My answer is NO

No.
I do not want to spend my summer weekends sweating my ass off.

No.
I do not want to spend countless hours training for meaningless athletic events.

No.
I do not want to have to invest in super expensive jug-jiggling reduction sports bras.

No.
I will not join you for a 10 mile "fun" run.
I don't even know what that means. Is there beer involved?

No.
I do not spend my free time researching summer community road races.

Yes. I finished a marathon.
Once.
It was a bucket list item.
A time in my life of mental breakdown.
I blacked out.
I do not remember that person.

I AM NOT AN ATHLETE!

SO STOP ASKING ME TO FILL MY SUMMER WEEKENDS
(which would otherwise be spent laying in a lounge chair, tanning, sipping on a Margarita, Corona, glass of Sangria, or any other kind of stereotypical Mexican alcoholic beverage)
WITH YOUR NONSENSE EVENTS REQUIRING ME TO RUN, JUMP, SWIM, BIKE, OR EVEN WALK REALLY REALLY FAST.

IN CONCLUSION: I am officially signed up for 6 summer road/trail races and the number keeps growing in size. What is wrong with me? Why do I torture my body with shortness of breath, chest pain, skin chafing, and the inability to squat down on a toilet for a good 3 days straight? People ask me if I think it's fun. The answer is no. I really don't enjoy it. There is some odd phenomenon that keeps pointing my mouse to that little "REGISTER" button. My weekends of summer laziness are disappearing one click at a time.

If I asked you to participate in some ridiculous run/obstacle course with me this spring/summer, I apologize. Like I said before....I am prone to blackouts. The lack of a filter between my brain and mouth has been creating problems in my life for years. This is no exception. However, know that for some really strange reason, I am secretly excited about Sweatapalooza: Summer 2012. To all those who have recently clicked on that "registration" button of doom under my guidance, THANK YOU for your lack of will power and your inability to tell me no. We will make it through, one blister at a time.

And to all those still texting/calling/e-mailing requests to participate in anything that will require apparel in the form of tennis shoes and/or a super expensive jug-jiggling reduction sports bra:

MY ANSWER IS NO.
Maybe.

If you want to join the kinda-sorta-not-so-much fun, check out these events!

CREIDE 5K - ONLY FOOLS RUN AT MIDNIGHT

CINCO DE MILER

FAT ASS 5K

PAIR UP FOR HEALTH

WARRIOR DASH

RAIDER CLASSIC

DIRTY GIRL RUN

URBANATHLON

My Soulmate

On the way home from a long physically demanding day at work, I call Officer Bob for some love and support:

Big Boca Bob: "On a scale of 1-10, how much do you miss me right now?"

(Don't judge. I didn't have the energy for a compelling story telling chat.)

Officer Bob: "Honestly?"

Big Boca Bob (fearing what the truth might be): "Sure. Be honest."

Officer Bob: "Honestly.....a 2"

Big Boca Bob: "A TWO?! Are you flipping kidding me?! A TWO?! As in, like, one more than ONE?! I feel that since we're engaged to be married and will be spending the rest of our lives together, I should at least get a courtesy four!! Seriously......A TWO?!!

Officer Bob: "You aren't going to change my mind on this one. My honest answer is a firm two. I mean....you're on your way home. I just talked to you this morning. Get over yourself."

Big Boca Bob: "But really, A TWO?!"

The line goes dead.

End conversation.

Thought process continues........

A mother flippin two?!

Next time, spare the honesty Officer Bob. Let's go back to that time when you just tell me what you think I want to hear. Then it would at least be a four....right?

Beans Finds Her Voice

Let's take a look at the women that proceed this talkative little chicana:

1. Mama B
2. Naked Nana
3. Mama Dirt
4. Big Boca Bob
5. Dancing Queen

Is it really any surprise that Baby Beans can hold a full conversation at the age of 10 weeks?

I think not.

Sorry, Huracan, but for your little offspring, blabbering is somewhat second nature.

Don't act like you didn't know what you were getting yourself into.

P.S. Is Beans not like the cutest baby you've ever seen? I mean really.......

Heart = Melting!