Hi, my name is Kristin and I'm an addict.

No, I haven't started shooting up or snorting things. Or even chewing pills. (I am old and do take a handful of pills a day, but they're more the allergy, blood pressure variety) I have a couple of problems. And I know, as anyone who has read just about EVERY self-help, self-awareness book out there; the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one. I have two very serious addictions. One is of the daily variety. And one is of the dreamt-about-but-oft-skipped variety.
And I have indulged in both today.

The first one. This is difficult to talk about. I really do love it so much. It's hard to admit it's a problem. Travis might have an intervention soon. He thinks I had too much about a month ago. Okay. Here goes. I eat sunflower seeds. EVERY. NIGHT. I shell them with my teeth and suck all the salt off the shells. I pop them open one by one and put all the shells into a solo cup. I sometimes eat a smaller dinner so I can have more sunflower seeds. Did I mention I eat them EVERY DAY? I have gone through at least three mouth sores. Let me tell you, sunflower shells and the salt make for some seriously nasty cankor sores. At one point, I had a sore so painful under my tongue, I was on WebMD researching mouth cancer just to be sure. I even RAN OUT of seeds earlier in the week and went THREE DAYS without them. That is the longest I have gone (minus when I had that nasty sore, I think that was three day's healing) without eating them. This has been going on way too long. And dammit if I don't knock that solo cup over every now and then. Then there's gross, soggy, chewed shells all over the floor. And my little Mojie swallowing as many as he can before I pick them all up. He's my own personal hoover. But I worry about him pooping sharp shells.

Okay. Here we go. Serious addiction number two. Panera Chocolate Croissant. Oh. My. God. It's an orgasm in a polite little dessert. Scratch that. It's FOUR simultaneous orgasms all wrapped up in a little pastry with choclate sprinkles. This is something that I think about often. I think of reasons to go near the many Paneras that are scattered around the metro Orlando area. And believe me, I know where each and every one of them are. I have been obsessed with these beautiful flaky, slightly glazed objects of my affection since I first had one a few years ago. Sometimes I keep my deep longing at bay. And other times, that wanting, needing takes over and I can't control myself, I drive to Panera and order one. I will admit. I think about these addictive little treats ALMOST every day. BUT. I certainly couldn't have lost 50 pounds eating them that often. In the last six months, I have had THREE, including the one I had today. And one of those treats was actually purchased at Publix, in the bakery. And it wasn't nearly as good as Panera's. But it was certainly a chocolate croissant, so it counts on the scorecard (and on my ass, as well).

Oh, Jillian. Bob. Please pray for me. (Biggest Loser shout out.....yo!)

This picture doesn't even do it justice. In real life, it looks less like a loaf of bread covered in ants and more like Brad Pitt covered in godiva truffles. Or something like that.

It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive. If you don't have it, you're on the other side. I'm not an addict (maybe that's a lie)...

Happy Hump Day

For some reason, Deuce Bigelo is on my tv, Travis is sleeping (and has been for WAY too long for this awful movie to still be showing) and I am goofing off surfing the internet with work spread out on my lap being ignored. And all I can think about is HOW did they make a sequel to this movie? Who financed that moment in cinematic history?

So yesterday, I went to blog and sat here staring at my computer screen. Completely at a loss for words. And really, as much as I'm a Chatty Cathy, it's rare for me to be wordless. I just have so much to say and so little time to say it. Sometimes I wish I could just blog as I'm driving or sitting or working or whatever. Like just tap into my brain and type words into my blog as I think. Wow. Let me take that back. I'm pretty sure this would be horrifying and everyone would know how often I think about my double (and sometimes triple depending on the angle) chin. And everyone would know how obsessed I can get about things. Tonight my obsession was seeds. I've been doing a bit of gardening and I really want some things to grow that we can eat. Last year, the crop was strawberries and there were exactly THREE berries that made it. I'm hoping this year I'm a little more successful.

So our household has moved to the final room in the Carosel of Progress! You know the one, where they used to sing "now is the time, now is the best time, now is the best time of your life" (the ride is still there at the Magic Kingdom, they've just f-ed up the song). Last night and tonight, we skyped with Trav's parents. What a neat way for everyone to talk all at the same time and for Kennedy to participate a little. She hates the phone, but so far, the video conferencing has entertained her. She sits glued to it, like it's an Elmo video. At least tonight she said "Nonnie" a few times to her grandmother. Most of the time she just sat there eating her dinner and pointing at them.

Last thought. I realized a bit ago how to tell if a person (or muppet) is crazy. Look into their eyes. If they are fixed, move about in a normal fashion, and can actually focus on things for periods of time, they are probably NOT crazy. If they are googly eyes, like cookie monster's and they roll around in their heads as they throw their heads around, pure straight jacket. Don't get me wrong. I have come to the conclusion that we are ALL crazy, just to different degrees. Some of us are way more functional than others. And some people drift back and forth from crazytown to reality. I have certainly had extended vacations to crazytown. But I like to think I stay mostly grounded in reality. I work, take care of my family, and groom myself appropriately.

So what made me think of all this craziness? I was taking a depo of a girl. She was my age-ish, attractive enough and living with her parents, never married, no kids. Then she admitted to collecting social security disability at a grand a month. So I'm looking at her trying to figure out what's her deal. She's had menial part-time jobs; hostessing, cashiering, that type of thing. Then she divulges what her diagnosis is for social security. Bi-polar. Ah. I see her eyes. Googly. Makes total sense now.

Picture of Kennedy is example of how to hide your googly eyes. That day she was seriously cookie monster crazy.

Post script

I am writing this from my phone. If this test actually works, it means I can blog anytime, anywhere.

Number One

First blog post. I am hoping I get back into the swing of writing. I did used to rather enjoy blathering on and on in my myspace blog. And myspace is so last year. (Especially if you're 15.) I have signed up for facebook but it is terribly unsatisfying in that it really only wants you to poke people, post pictures and send annoying applications to other people.

So I will attempt to begin blogging anew. Or this will be my one and only post.
Either way, I promise my next post will not be titled "Number two".