Oreo Flavored Lies Taste Icky

Happy Monday munchkins!  It is a glorious day in Pensacola Florida and only a four day week...so that makes mama a little happier than normal.

Forgive my absence this last week.  I was on vacation in South Africa and I didn't have a lick of internet acccess.

Okay.  I made that up.

However...I do seem to tell lies these days at the drop of an oreo crumb.

Follow along.

I am a food hider.  Still to this day, I sneak food sometimes.  Not just from Heather, but whoever I think will judge me for consuming less than stellar caloric options.  So, I had some oreos in my purse this weekend and my dog was just sooooo hungry....so I gave him an Oreo while I was in our bathroom. 

Fast forward to later that afternoon when Heather and I were getting ready to go to the movies.  I see this little black nubit laying on the floor, but really pay it no mind.  Well, then Heather goes over and picks it up and says "Is this Oreo?  Did you eat Oreos and not share with me?"

And before I knew what was happening...I said.  "NO!  I didnt have any oreo's this weekend.  Maybe the crumb fell out of my purse or something."

I lied. 

About food.

And it should be noted, that in the year we have been together...I have never told Heather a lie.  So off we go to the movies (Lincoln Lawyer, which was pretty good), and I am barely able to pay attention to the movie because I feel so guilty for lying...ABOUT A COOKIE.  And I keep thinking...'You will be 80 years old some day and look back and think the only damn thing you ever lied to Heather about was a cookie.'

So, once we got in the car....I told her. 

Wooo...and she still loves me.  Although she didnt understand why I would lie to her about THAT.

But I suppose for me there will always be shame tied to food.  Man...is that sad to type or what?! 

Which leads me to my next topic of discussion...

FOOD POLICE

I did write a post on Friday, but it was fueled by anger so I saved it instead of posting (man...sometimes I AM smart).  You see...I brought cinnamon rolls into work on Friday.  And one of my coworkers (you know who you are!) said to me "What are YOU doing eating these"?

I took a breath and said "Why can't I eat them?"  And he said "because they are bad for you"...

and there you have it folks.  Something inside my brain snapped.  My passive aggressive monster ripped through my otherwise friendly demeanor.  And PA Monster likes to use the f-word.  So...it went a little something like this:

Me:  "Why do you do that *Ricardo? (*names have been changed to protect the not so innocent).  I don't need you to be the fucking food police!  If you don't want a fucking cinnamon roll, don't eat one!  You read my blog!  You know how I hate it when people tell me what to eat and what not to eat.  Do I tell you every time you go to smoke a cigarette you are fucking killing yourself?  NO"

Ricardo: "I'm sorry"

And yes...I felt bad.    Because I do love Ricardo...but it just like toothpaste on the side of the bathroom sink, people telling me what I shouldn't be eating takes me back to my brother picking on my for food.  It makes me think of feeling ashamed to eat lunch in high school.  It takes me to a bad place.  And it wasn't the first time Ricardo had made a comment, and instead of handling it like a grown-up at the time of the offense...I store it deep down inside until I spew dirty words all over my office.

Damn.

I Wanna Be A Drag Queen

Friday night Heather and I did a little shopping.  We ended up at the Express.  A store...I am pretty sure...I have only been in once, many moons ago, with my friend Travis when we were shopping for him.  Well...I may have found my new love because if I would have had money...DAMN... I would have bought tons of clothes. 

Anywhoozle, while Heather was trying on clothes, one of the associates (a lovely gay gentleman by the name of Nolan) came up to me and started talking about my tan and whether we ever go to Cabaret (a gay piano bar downtown).  WHY he assumed that we were lesbians is beyond me (perhaps bc Heather was trying on mens shorts and we were holding hands).  But he invited us out bc there was going to be a drag show at 11.  Now, 11 pm is WAY past our bedtime, but we decided to commit.

I have seen 1 drag show before.  This time though, the bar was pretty small and there were 2 performers.  The first sort of looked like a rough J-Lo.  She had real (store bought) boobs and an ass that mezmorized me.  It was huge!  And I wanted to touch it.  The other performer was like a tall, thin, Kim Kardashian and she was beautiful. 

But it struck me...

My calling in life is to be a drag queen!  I mean come on!  You get to wear fabulous clothes, heels, people give you dollars and you don't take get naked...and you get to fake sing and twirl!  I was made for fake singing and twirling!

And lastly...my girl bought me a purse.  I had the most wonderful purse from BOOBS and Chicago Chinatown.  Well, one of the bulldogs ate it last fall.  Since then we have been on the hunt for a cream/white colored crossbody purse.  And Heather has been wanting to buy me one.  And my new bff store (Express)...had it all along.  So I will close with my session with my purse and a tree.

Good day.