Katie Candor

I was informed that my blog is sweet. It lacks a certain sarcasm and edgy-ness that is Katie. Well, how silly--I thought. This blog is totally me. Well, maybe not totally. You asked for it, Sharon. (What's that? You didn't? Oh.) Here's to honesty, and all that jazz:

*Thomas learned to whistle. I can't tell you how delighted this makes me...it's driving me friggin crazy. It's driven me to count how many days there are left of summer. 46. 46 long days of summer remain. And the whistling coupled with the sulky pouting? Let me tell you. Lovely. Enchanting. Pleasing to the eyes and ears.

*I got talked into a fitness boot camp. Peer pressure? At my age?

What I signed up for: A hard, 'push your limits,' sweat-your-butt-off work out every morning at 5:00 AM with friends.
What I did NOT sign up for: A 'repeat after me' marching cadence that has the line "marchin' down the avenue," a uniform consisting of a white T-shirt with my name scrolled across the chest in puffy paint black Sharpie marker, public humiliation if said uniform rules were not adhered to, restless nights spent watching the clock for fear I'd miss my 4:20 AM wake-up call.

*While I'm at it, can someone please invent a nice, rich red wine with all the taste and none of the empty calories? That'd be great. Get right on that.

*One more, and I'll be done. Centerpoint Energy broke into our backyard had orders to cut down all trees in close proximity to power lines after Hurricane Ike. They sloppily chopped down a tree, leaving a stump deceptively high in our yard. Ask me how many times we've broken our lawn mower this season on that same stump. I dare you.

Answer: 2. Twice. Dos. Jeremy did it first, and then I did it again on Sunday like a genius. Holy schnikies. Are you even kidding me? Thank goodness we have an enormous, never-ending stream of disposable income.

There you have it. I'll be back to my sweet self in no time.