Chubby Girl Brigade

Ketchup Already!

My sister: I just spoke to [a guy that is marrying our cousin]. Did you know his nickname is "Syrup"?

Me: No, why?

Sister: Because he runs too slow!

Me: Ha! That's funny!

Sister: I know!

Me: That should be me!

Me: No, wait! I can be "Heinz"!

Sister: ?

Me: Because the only way I'm moving is if someone pokes a knife at me!

And today we shall eat cake

It's a Chubby Girl Brigade Official Holiday!  It's Jerilyn's birthday! 

How to celebrate this not-quite-national day of recognition:

Pet a dog

Play the official CGB Valentine CD, if you have one.  If you don't, email genadfemale at chubbygirlbrigade dot com and I will do my best to get one for you.  Someday.

Buy a can of Almond Roca and do not share. 

Hug an advertiser

Email (see address above) a finger-licking recipe to share!

Wish Jerilyn a Happy Birthday in the comments!

Example: When "Are You Calling Me Fat?" Is NOT The Best Comeback OR Oops! There Went My SELF-ESTEEM

Young Coworker (WHO I LOVE TO DEATH*) playing music on her computer: Oh, I'm turning this up! Jerilyn, this is your song!

Me, having a bad work day already: What song is it?

YCW: "Revenge of a Middle Aged Woman" by Tracy Byrd

Me:...

Me:...

Me:...

Me: KILL ME NOW

*In case she reads this, I really do love her.

"Taking a Blogging Break" is so Old and Busted

What is this thing I have neglected called a blog?

Alright ladies (and girdles), I'm back. Work isn't exactly slowing down, but I need the ego boost that blogging gives me. I can't promise daily updates like I have in the past, and I also can't promise that everything I post will be related to How I Cope With Copious Side Boobage, but I treasure the stalkers friends I've gained through blogging and I hate to think that my silence could cost me my online friendships.

So, that said, I have to say that BIRTHDAY CARDS HAVE STARTED ARRIVING AT MY HOUSE.

My birthday isn't for another two weeks, but clearly, the CGB knows me well. BirthMONTH, people, birthMONTH.

So, what does this all mean? I'm back to blogging, I'm feeling the birthday love, and the rest of you jokers better get your cards and gifts to me ASAP.

xoxo,
Jerilyn

Wonder Woman Redux

Remember this?

Over the weekend, someone sent me these:

Seriously, isn't that the best costume for a dog ever? I SHOULD KNOW.

Ask the CGB: Airline Baggage

"I am asking your readers for help. I am flying home this summer to see my family, and I am scared to death about fitting in my plane seat! I am a size 22, and have several grand, public humiliation scenarios played out in my mind. Sometimes I feel like I am going to have a panic attack! I would appreciate any advice your members/readers can offer about this."

Any help, ladies?

(By all means, if you yourself have a question you'd like to ask the CGB, email it to [email protected].)

RIBULITE

I can't figure out how to link directly to the post and I don't know if she will take it down or however her blog works, so I'm going to repost it here and hope she doesn't sue me because I GIVE IRENE FROM CHICAGO CHICK ALL THE CREDIT, but this post made me totally LOL:

Some Very Good Advice

Sometimes when you think your life is spinning out of control, it helps that you have good friends around who are less screwed up than you to give you some good advice. The good advice I received was "Remember, relax and absorb." This was said to my history of freaking out within the first week of a new job and then letting it spiral out of control. Before too long I am shopping my resume around.

That piece of advice applies to a lot of things. Well, at least the "relax" part applies to a lot of scenarios. For example, I was bemoaning the fact that I have not been able to lose as much baby weight as I would have liked. I haven't been very good at going to pilates regularly or to the gym. Even the time I have spent with my personal trainer seems far and few between. As I was sitting in the dentist chair talking about how mushy and fat I was my dentist (who's the best dentist around) said, "I've just given up."

He went on to tell me that he has ribulite (or cellurib if you like). The translation is that he has cellulite on his ribs. How that is possible at all is beyond me and I cannot even begin to imagine what that must look like. I told him that at least he doesn't have moobies (man boobies), but he said that those were probably on their way. That little tidbit of information, although very gross, made me feel a little better. Not because my dentist is a hottie (because he is) but because it's nice to know that that kind of crap happens even to the best of us.

So, when I get all up in arms about something I will remember to "Relax and absorb" and I will remember that things could be worse. I could have ribulite and be anticipating a delivery of moobies. Bleh!