Stolen from My Sister's Blog

What?

Like you've NEVER seen a 2-year-old driving a SUV.

Puuu-leeez.

Here in the Chi, we skip pre-school and send them right to the DMV.

I mean, someone's gotta drive after the afternoon martinis and pedicures.

Can I Sue?

I mean fuck, everyone else does.

But my reason should be legitimate.

See, I set up Google Alerts to alert me everytime someone links me or mentions me in the Internet. I did this when I was going through the whole gotta-make-my-blog-private-because-who-know-who-is-reading.

And about once a week, I get alerts - sometimes I don't pay attention, but today I did.

And lo-and-fucking-behold, there is another Project Procrastination blog out there.

Same name, but his about fashion, and he adds two numbers in it, so it reads, "projectprocratination##.blogspot."

AND AND AND

It looks like the asshat started his little fashion blog in 2009

AND AND AND

copyrighted it!!

Well slap my ass and call me mama.

I WAS HERE FIRST!!!

Now, one might find it odd that I feel so territorial over my blog name.

But after almost three years and almost 600 posts, it's be a super big part of my life. And moreover, most of you guys never met me face-to-face, so the blog is the only way most people know me.

So yeah, it's part of an identity, and I am sure most of you feel similarly about your own blogs.

So, uh, yeah.

I guess if you want to read about Hermes scarves and Prada satchels and shoes, then check this guy out (but google him because I refuse to link his site).

Otherwise, this is the only Project that counts.

Damn bitch.


SWIMMERS
And in case you missed this on your way out to summer's first long weekend:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/05/22/pools.urinate.hygiene/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

Apparently 1 in 5 adults admit to peeing in pools.

Or using my master deduction skills, apparently 1 in 5 adults are triathletes.

Life Gets In The Way

Here’s to all you bitches for the texts and emails about my lack of posts. Seriously. Get off my sack.

And I say that with the deepest of love.


The Runs
My sister and I started running together during the week. Mondays, mostly. Sometimes Thursdays.

I like it – having a training partner. It tests me, challenges me to get out of my comfort zone – her being fast-as-fuck and all.

Turns out that running with Speedy Pants Sister is actually making me faster.

Sadly, it may be making her slower.

But I do appreciate her slumming it at least once a week.


Overheard on Aforementioned Run
Me: And another fart!
Devin: Have you always farted this much?
Me: No, just recently. I tried analyzing what I eat to see if I can identify a cause.
Devin: Figure it out?
Me: No, not yet. But man, they stink.
Devin: Like?
Me: Dead people.
Devin: I don’t know what a dead person smells like.
Me: Come over for dinner.


Screwed is spelled with a 70.3
So I counted on my fingers today.

Turns out Steelhead is 3 – yes 3! – months away.

Perhaps I need to start focusing more on my consistency and less on…well, everything else. Whining included.


SSB
So like any f.a.b.u.l.o.u.s woman in her early thirties on a sunny spring Saturday afternoon in Chicago, I was sitting on my coffee table watching Sex in the City.

(side note – is it just me, or do you also sort of just stop what your doing when an episode is on? I was just off my failed attempt at a workout and on my way to grocery shop, and I just sat. and watched.)

So they were talking about SSB- Secrete Single Behaviors.

You know – all the weird shit you do before the significant other moves in.

Oddly, the one Carrie stated was also one I am partial to – stacking saltines up and eating them with grape jelly in the kitchen. Although instead of reading fashion magazines at the same time, I read Runner World.

One of our so-few differences.

I have many SSBs, as have been frequently noted throughout this blog.

In addition to the already mentioned of:
1.Keeping laundry in the laundry basket until I wear it all again
2.Eating the same thing, every night.
3.Riding my bike in the living room in the middle of the day.
4.Absentmindedly picking at my pedicure while I read reports.
5.Not showering for a few days. Sometimes more.
6.Not making the bed. Like, ever.

Here are a few more:

6.Spending way too much time in the bathroom plucking my eyebrows.
7.Openly and unabashedly passing gas with no fear of sound and smell.
8. Possibly under the covers. But without witnesses, who can really say, no?
9.Eating off paper plates. On second thought, I do that when Cheese is home.
10.Not being fazed by having only carrots and a bottle of wine in the fridge.
11.Three words – Fudgicles For Breakfast.

And like Carrie Bradshaw says, "I can't help but wonder...."

What are yours?

Dinner at My Sister's House

Nom, nom, nom, nom.

Tastes like chicken.

My Facebook Status Update Rejects

Megan:

-Wishes people would stop making it so easy for me to dislike them.

-Continues to be surprised that the “cool kids” from high school didn’t age well. So that’s what coke bloat looks like….

-Thinks it's funny that you have no hair left. Yes you, Brendan.

-Thinks some babies look weird. Is that mean?

-Hates interviewing parents in jail, but is secretly fascinated by jail culture.

-Should have known better than to wear a sundress to jail for said interview.

-Wonders if she should put up her wedding picture as her profile pic too, just like everyone else.

-Thinks, “If only she knew then what she knows now.”

-Really wants to say eff it to this FB thing, but can’t break free from my addiction to other people’s pictures.

-Smelled like a goat today.

-Wants to punch bad parents in the head. Clearly, it's been one of those days.

-Rants about people looking for a quick fix to their weight problems, but would probably use it if one came along.

-Hates how dirty I feel at the end of the day.

-Appreciates travel reimbursment.

-Just farted.

-Shut down her Twitter account, mere weeks after she opened it. Because sometimes, enough is simply enough.

-Had to look away laughing when her nephew was crying yesterday. Not because I thought his frustration was funny, but because the face that accompanied his oppositional tantrum was hysterical.

-Just read over this list, and realized she will most definitely be a shitty parent.

11 Minutes...

...is the difference between last week's half-marathon in Nashville, and this weekend's half-marathon in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

And guess what I got for those 11 minutes?

A PR, a medal, and a hunk of chedder cheese in the shape of Wisconsin.

And if that wasn't enough (I know, you would think it would be with the cheese, right?!?), I finally got to meet fellow blogger Spie. Talk about a baddass- not only did she run a 1:43 half-marathon, but she turned around and hosted a BBQ at her house afterwards.

Me? I laid in my hotel bed with ice on my knees whining about my mentrual cramps, and Spie puts together and throws a party.

With S'mores brownies.

And yes, they are as good as they sound.

It was a perfect way to celebrate a great race - good food and lots of laughs.

And now, I have a whole Sunday to look foward to....