Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Overexposed

This week, I put on a show for all the ladies at the local TJ Maxx. I was shopping for spring shirts when I was confronted with the terrible truth: The dressing room doors literally hit me at the bust. And, I was wearing flip-flops.

Sigh.

First thought: “I guess we’ll find out who brought their dollar bills.”

Second thought: “I’m hungry. Did I bring a snack?”

Third thought: “I hope no one puts this on the Internet.”

Then, I went to work. I strategically selected my dressing room away from the entrance. (We wouldn’t want a mob scene, right?) Made sure there were no cameras to entertain the elite TJ Maxx security team. Practiced my best bob-and-weave every time someone walked by. And, 20 shirts later, made a mental note that the TJ Maxx dressing room design team had to consist of the shortest people in the world.

Sigh. It’s going to take some time to recover from this traumatic experience.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Don't move my cheese

I love cheese. I mean, I really love cheese. Technically, I'm allergic to it and not supposed to eat it. But, this week I've been re-introducing it to my diet to see if the ol' stummy can handle. And, may I just say, it's been a good week.

Cheese. Sigh.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Super Fan

It's opening day in Kansas City. And, throughout the city, there's excitement around the Royals and the team's newly renovated stadium.

I am married to a Royals super fan. And, I mean super fan. Ya know those Star Trek conventions? He's the Royals' equivalent.

Much to his dismay, I am not a super fan. And, really, just barely, even a fan.

Before we married, I thought going to Royals games was about looking for cute boys and eating jumbo pretzels. I was shocked to learn people actually watched the games.

Before we started dating, my husband had never left a Royals game early. Whereas, I would start schlepping to the car about the sixth inning. I had to. I couldn't walk that fast in my heels.

I'll never forget one of the first Royals games we attended together. A foul ball was hit right next to me. It bounced. I looked at it. It kept rolling. Seeing the disbelief in my super fan's face still makes me laugh.

For the record, I am athletic. I love sports and I love to compete. But, baseball just doesn't do it for me. You can go the entire game with only the pitcher and catcher touching the ball. Bor-ing.

And, have you ever noticed how many overweight pitchers there are in baseball? You mean to tell me they're getting paid millions of bucks and they can't bust out a few sit-ups? I cry foul.

I will end with one truly endearing thought about my hubby's un-natural man love for the Royals: He sticks by them through thick and thin. He loved em' when they rocked in the '80s and he still loves em' now ... when they're not so rockin'. And, I love him for that. It makes all the jerseys hogging our closet, the signed baseballs cluttering our furniture and those creepy bobbleheads, palatable.