Hello happy readers. I’ve gotten myself pumped up to actually make a written blog entry today, instead of the lame-ass pics-only stuff I’ve been filching off of other blogger’s sites lately. Blame the antidepressant for the loss of my edginess and sardonic wit.
Last weekend was the celebration of my folk’s 50th wedding anniversary, hosted by their fine progeny – myself and my two brothers, with help from The Spouses, grandchildren, etc. Being the Head Party Planner, I got to boss everybody around and assign tasks. I’m glad to report that everyone immediately fell to their knees, pledged their loyalty to me and vowed to carry out my every command. It was quite the exhilarating, head-inflating experience and I’m a little disappointed that it’s all over and I’ve gone back to just being plain old me again.
Perhaps the most entertaining point of the day was trying to explain to my brother’s friend – who was on his way to a major alcohol haze – what makes my mother and some of her cousins double cousins. The poor guy could not be convinced that there wasn’t something inherently illegal about double cousins. “You can try to explain it all you want, but you’ll never convince me that y’all aren’t from Arkansas.” “Well, our aunt WAS from Oklahoma,” piped up my mom, trying to be helpful. “See, what did I tell you?” he replied.
It was a really nice party and now I have some great “before” pictures of myself to inspire me to finally lose weight. God, there’s nothing as humiliating as looking at pictures of your fat self. So today I’m back on the diet wagon and Coco gets to take walks again even though it’s about a million degrees outside. I hate working out in the summer. I’d much rather sit inside and eat ice cream. Perhaps I will post weight loss results here on Papercut. Perhaps not. Stay tuned, folks.