It's funny how life throws you for a loop sometimes. I mean, one minute you're stressed out about the prom and where you want to go to college (while smoking weed and neglecting bathing), and then the next minute you're married with 2 surprise (and wonderful) kids and bills and stress wondering how it all got past you, somehow. Not that I have any regrets. Because I don't. Regrets are such a waste of time, people. Until the time machine is invented (and it will be, oh yes, it will be), there's not a whole lot we can do about the past - so live with the choices you've made, ok? They've made you who you are, they've shaped your personality.... They've also brought you to this blog - one of the finest, most entertaining pieces of literary wisdom in the universe. So, guess it can't all be bad, eh?

For what it's worth, things seem to be on the up and up for me. You'd think being in a lifeless and (for lack of better terminology) touch-less marriage, drowning in a sea of nursing-school debt and a hundred-something FICO score, I'd be a bit down in the dumps. But I'm not. Why bother? It certainly doesn't make my bills go away or cause me to eat less. My focus these days seems to be on making less drama for myself, not more. It makes my therapy visits shorter, which costs me less, and in the long run, saves me from added stress. It's a win-win.

Speaking of eating (see! I can't go a blog without talking about food) - I'm officially the lowest weight I've been since running in (and completing, no less) the 2001 Baltimore Marathon. None of my clothes fit and I refuse to complain about it. Especially since the one belt I own (fat girls don't buy belts), now fits on the 4th or 5th hole. It's too bad I can't put it on scrubs.... And it certainly helps that I have a closet full of clothing in every size imaginable. Not because I was ever skinny - mind you, but because I'm one of those wishful thinking type fat-girls who buys clothes that are too small in a quest to see a vision and become inspired despite my serious, serious addiction to deep fried foods.

So, anyway - yes. Let's get back on track here. Blah blah blah. Of course, this weekend my new healthy habits all went straight to hell with my inveterate junk-food snacking related to anxiety and my - ahem - womanly cycles. I did manage to make it back to the gym. Once. And then I proceeded to walk like a duck around my office for a few days while my calves screamed out in pain. They're not used to working, my calves. They're lazy.

Wow, I'm all over the place.

I found an awesome recipe online for butter chicken. It has a fancier Indian name - but I don't feel like figuring it out right now. I would butcher the spelling, embarrass myself and perhaps offend all my Indian readers (of which I'm convinced there are many). I can tell you that it's delicious. You can have it if you want, but if you make it - you have to tell me all about it. You also have to tell everyone that I gave you the recipe and that I'm awesome. I mean, that's not too much to ask is it? http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Easy-Indian-Butter-Chicken/Detail.aspx

On to other things besides great recipes that make me happy....

That my dear friend Steph (not sure, seriously - what I would do without this woman. For real), who watches my 1-year old Baby Sinclair told me that he's one of "the best kid" she's ever watched. I'm a bit skeptical that she truly means this.... but it's flattering, nonetheless. I mean, sure - he's a monster for me. He refuses to hug me (then laughs when I pretend to cry - it's seriously offensive), he screams at the top of his lungs in the car & I swear, he purposely doesn't sleep through the night because he has some secret vengeance against me (or even a plot with Jamie, who knows)... but for some reason, he loves to be kind and gentle to everyone else. Go figure. And despite the tantrums, feet-stomping, couch jumping craziness - I do love him to death.

On a related note, I overheard Wesley tell Jamie a few days ago "Daddy - we have to always say please and thank you. No next-ceptions". LOL. I guess I am getting into that little head of his.

I promise my next blog will not be all over the place.... I have to multi-task by writing a blog, watching the 40 DVR shows I have stored on the TV and take care of children/house/life. So, sorry if this reads a bit like a 4th grade book report. Of course, you're still reading it - so what does that say about you?

Until next time, pretend friends who probably don't even exsist.... make good choices. And for crying out loud - stand up straighter. You'll end up hunchbacked by 40.