My precious eyes

Oh, George, George, George. How I once loved thee. I thought you were so cutting-edge and witty and just dee-lish to watch on The Hour.

And then you go and do this.


Playing hockey in skinny jeans? Really? So you realize how much I hate skinny jeans? Do you? Apparently not. And where's your helmet?

Now I have nothing but disdain for you. You look stupid. You look like you're skating in tights. And your legs look terribly stumpy. You are dead to me.

Foresakingly Yours,
xoxoSallyS

Holidaze

I cannot believe it's Friday and my Christmas vacation ends on Monday. Boo! I don't want to go back! Sometimes, I consider eating some raw chicken, just to get a wicked case of salmonella so I can extend my stay on the couch.

I have spent the past week and a half indulging. Indulging in TV, in sleeping, in not wearing makeup, in a decadent lifestyle I normally deny myself. I have been wearing stretchy pants since Christmas eve and it's divine.

Thankfully, I have not gained weight. I haven't lost any, but with my sloth-like ways recently, I figured a few pounds would have slipped up on me. But no. Unlike Christmas at my parent's house, there isn't endless boxes of chocolates and bags of chips handy. There are no canisters of my mother's baking waiting for my grubby hand. I may have done jack-squat on my time off, but I did not spend that time eating. I know! No one is more shocked at that phrase than me.

What did I do on my time off? Abso-smurfly nothing. Perhaps going back to work will be a good thing after all. Maybe. Maybe that tray of chicken looks better.

Lazingly Yours,
xoxoSallyS