Sugary Lent


February 21, 2010

So Lent.

Lent is a magical time a year when we reflect on how awesome Jesus is. It’s also a time, if you are Catholic, or a sadist, to give up something. I was raised Catholic, and every year we’d give up meat. And because my mom wasn’t very creative in the kitchen, we had a whole lot of Hamburger Helper, minus the hamburger.

The idea of giving up something is a way to remind us what Jesus gave up, and sacrificed for us. I don’t consider myself a Catholic anymore, but because I hate being left out of stuff, I wanted to participate in Lent this year, so I thought of the number one most wonderful thing in my life–SUGAR, and then gave it up, for Jesus, and in hopes that my ass would shrink a little, but mainly for Jesus , FOR. FOURTY. DAYS.

At first I thought, this can’t be that bad. Sugar is stupid anyways.

It’s all yummy and delicious, and sparkly, and alluring, but after having too much, it makes you feel fat, and gives you a weird feeling in your stomach, and you regret ever laying eyes on it. I guess you can say, sugar is kind of like those asshole jocks you dated in high school.

Come to think of it, I’m mad at sugar.

But all this anger is making me hungry.

And what do I eat when I’m hungry?


What do I eat when I’m tired?




Confused, surprised, constipated?

Sugar, sugar, sugar.

You get the idea.

And then I realize that everything in my kitchen is loaded and covered in sugar. Well, everything I want to eat, that is…

Pop Tarts, Lucky Charms, homemade cookies, Lemon cake, and Pumpkin bread, M&Ms, Jell-O pudding, yogurt, hot chocolate, ice cream, cupcakes, Mr. Pibb and Red Vines…

Oh, but Sunday.

Sweet, beautiful Sunday.

Sunday is when the Catholics grill up a bitchin’ steak, wrap it in bacon, and serve it with a sausage garnish, because Sundays don’t count in the fourty days, they’re reserved for celebration, and nothing says, “I love Jesus” more than a plate full of warm meat. Catholics can have their steaks dripping in blood, and I can finally eat an entire cheesecake.


One little problem.

It’s Sunday, and I don’t want sugar.


I’m all, meh, sugar, whatever.

This is weird.

I think later, I’m going to have my husband tie me down and force feed me jelly beans.






Yeah, I was going to give up wine. I did actually do it — for 48 hours. Then I had the meeting from hell. So, now I consider the time spent in that meeting my 40 days in the desert.

by Libby on February 22, 2010

Holy crao! It’s because you made it through the withdrawal stage! That’s what happened! Go with it, for Pete’s sake, you know how long I’ve been trying to get through the withdrawal stage?? Don’t look back!! Yay for you!!

I typed “crao” up there, but I kind of like it. It’s cute.

by Steam Me Up, Kid on February 22, 2010

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This is what happens when you don’t sleep at night, and then drink too much caffeine to offset the sleepiness.


February 18, 2010

I just want you to know that I’m trying to write a blog post right now, but for some reason I can’t concentrate.

It’s like my brain is on the phone with a Swedish inventor named Hjalmar, and is holding up a finger like, hang on a minute…

But I can’t wait a minute, STUPID BRAIN! I have things to do, so hang up the phone already, and pay attention!

Plus my eyes are all blurry. And the computer screen looks like I spent all day swimming in a chlorinated pool with my eyes open, and then stared at one of those Magic Eye pictures that they used to sell in the mall, but then had to stop, because sales were low, because everyone realized that those things are pure crap, and finding the dinosaur was only fun the first time, and your friends really don’t care, and now they think you’re super lame for spending $34.95 on that junky picture that you have to work for. Who wants to work to see a dinosaur?

I sure as hell don’t

I mean, really?

Would you rather look at this:

Or this:


Hey…that dino in the Magic Eye pic was not as scary as the t-rex you got going on below it. Maybe Magic Eye pictures are for pansies who can’t handle the real thing?

by Julie Snell on February 18, 2010

I can never see those things. They suck

by suzi on February 19, 2010

I totally see it and yes, it’s a little baby dino compared to the second pic.

by Bellacantare on February 23, 2010

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Last night I had this dream…


February 17, 2010

I have this adorable trait–

I’m the girl who tells everyone about my dreams.

Well, I think it’s adorable, because I happen to think most things I do are adorable.

Like the mouth guard and moisturizing gloves I wear to bed at night?


When I talk over you when you’re trying to tell me a fascinating story about your life?


And when I bite my toe nails off while sitting on the couch because I’m too lazy to go upstairs and get the clippers, and toe-nail particles get stuck in the cushions?


So yeah, I like to tell people about my dreams.

If I have the most insane dream about you, I call you immediately and tell you all about it.

I’ll be all, OMG, I had the most fascinating dream! You were flying with me in the sky and your armpits looked like a tiger and then we fell out of the sky and landed on a shoe store. But it wasn’t a cute shoe store, it was one of those specialty stores that sell to people with fat feet. But it turns out that I had fat feet, so while we browsed the isles, you told me that you were actually Bruce Willis, and then you french kissed me.

And you’d be all…So?

And I’d look at the floor, pick my finger, and then hang up because, you know what?

No one likes hearing about other people’s dreams.

Except, no one told me that.

I had to find out on my own.

I woke up from having the most insane dream, and I turned to my husband and told him all about it, then I started to interpret it. I said, “I think when I started humping the bust of Margaret Thatcher, it was my way of saying F-You England! You think you’re so cool with your fancy way of saying words. And I’m almost positive it stems back to my childhood and my feelings of inadequecy…don’t you agree? Pat? PAT!!”

And my half asleep husband said, “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your dream.”

After that I locked myself in my closet and cried.

But in the end, I learned a very valuable lesson: To annoy the ones you love, tell them about your dreams. They might tune you out and act like they’re ignoring you, but deep inside they think you’re adorable.


LOLOLOLOLOL, that is all

by madison on February 17, 2010

I love your dream stories…Except the ones where we beat each other up. I don’t like those ones.

by Dena Lucas on February 17, 2010

I don’t tell people about my dreams in person, I just share them on my blog. My MOM thinks they’re funny! :-p

by Bellacantare on February 23, 2010

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The Sugar Shakes


February 12, 2010

Valentine’s Day.

It’s probably my favorite holiday.

Not because I’m all secretly sentimental.

Not because I like shitty jewelry.

Not because I have no where else to wear this stupid heart sweater.

It’s because of the candy.

Sure, most holidays are associated with eating. I mean, what fun is celebrating something if you can’t chug a giant vat of chocolate? Can I get an Amen? Honestly, how else do you say I love you, or Merry Christmas, or whoo hoo Jesus is risen!! without candy?


Clearly I have a problem.

And that problem is covered in sugar.

I love sugar so much, that most times I won’t stop eating it until I have fully engaged in the sugar shakes.

Oh, you don’t know what the sugar shakes are?

Allow me to explain.

It’s when you buy a box of See’s candies for your grandma’s 85th birthday, but then eat the entire thing because it’s just sitting there, wrapped in the cute Valentine’s day wrapping paper, just begging to be opened, and maybe Grams won’t mind if you have just one piece. But now that there’s one missing, what’s the harm in two? And 7 minutes later you look down and exclaim, “HOLY SHIT BALLS! Someone ate all my grandma’s chocolate!!”

Only that someone is you, and you have some re-shopping to do for Grams.

But before you start shopping your hand starts to tremble, then your jaw starts to twitch, and faster than you can say, “Willy Wonka” you’re laying on the ground next the the little brown wrappers, clutching the empty box and singing softlly Whitney Houston’s “I’m Every Woman” while a little thread of chocolate spittle escapes your mouth.

Those are the sugar shakes.

It’s lovely really.

And no chocolate binge is complete with out it.

So while the rest of the population is out at some bourgeoisie restaurant ordering in French, and paying far too much for liver and pig fat, I’ll be in my home with the shades pulled, shaking on the floor.

Wearing my heart sweater.

Happy Valentine’s day everyone.


Tell me that’s not a nipple peeking out there between those assorted sweater hearts

by Mike Krause on February 12, 2010

Happy Valentine’s Day! I think the thing I miss most about living on the East Coast is See’s candy. 🙁

by jenn on February 13, 2010

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I Would Make a Really Crappy Celebrity


February 8, 2010

Remember when I was all, OMG I am completely incapable of having a conversation with people because my brain is covered in mayonnaise that a donkey just ate and than shat a donkey stool on the fourth of July when your gay cousin lit your baby on fire because he mistook her for a sparkler, and then we all took a giant nap because…WHAAA?

Yeah, all those words up there? Code for, I’m a total idiot and no one should listen to the ramblings of my mouth.

But someone did listen. An actual person listened to me. And they got paid for it. Or I’m assuming that they got paid, because they sounded very professional. Maybe she got paid in Gloria Vanderbelt merchandise. Perhaps a pair of paisley knickers and a oven glove?  I think that’s a fair wage for listening to me.

So, anyways a few weeks ago someone called me up and did a phone interview with me for the OC Family Magazine.

I didn’t have a stenographer handy, but this is pretty much how it went down:

Her: How long have you been writing your blog?

Me: I don’t know.

Her: **awkward pause**

Me: Well, I guess you can check the archives if you really want to know. Or you can write, longer than a year, shorter than 17.

Her: What made you start your blog?

Me: The fact that I think I frickin hilarious. And I needed an outlet to introduce the world to my dog, Zoey.

Say ‘hi’, Zoey. Come here Zoey. ZOEY! COME HERE. Say ‘hi.’

ZOEY: ((Labored breathing))

Me: That was Zoey, she says hi. She’s very shy on the phone.

Her: Okay…What do you think makes your blog stand out among the crowd?

Me: Humm. I have a hippo on my blog. That’s something cool. Wait. Not that I think I’m fat or anything. Ahh man! Do you think people could misconstrue my hippo illustration for a poor view of my body image? I’m actually quite slender, well that is, when I’m not stuffing my face with onion rings from Ruby’s, while I try to lose this flabby baby weight. It’s really hard to lose baby weight when all I want is a greasy hamburger and some chocolate covered bacon. You know? Do you have any kids? You must know what it’s like. (Opening the fridge) Oh shit! I’m all out of cheese!

From there it sorta spiraled down hill.

There were a lot more awkward silences, and a handful of moments where I tried to make a joke, but it came off as me sounding creepy. Oh, and there were lots of times when I changed subjects because I couldn’t remember what her original question was, and then there were times when I TALKED REALLY LOUD to hide my flatulence.

All in all, I think it went really well for my very first phone interview. But if I ever do one of these again, they should buy me like 3 apple-tinis and make sure I’m not wearing any pants.

I say the funniest things when I’m pantsless and drunk.


Well, at least you didn’t compare yourself to Shakespeare, or Erma Bombeck. You didn’t, did you?

by Libby on February 8, 2010

You are totally awesome! So proud of you!

by Dena Lucas on February 8, 2010

I love it! I really hope that “Oh shit, I’m out of cheese.” made the final print copy. 🙂

by jenn on February 9, 2010

you are too funny! hahahah!

by tenilleb on February 14, 2010

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February 6, 2010

No, thats not cradle cap.

They’re crumbs from my biscuits.


Don’t act like you’ve never spilled food particles on your baby before.



I spilled wine on my daughter once. She was sleeping. I think it was good for her hair…

by Libby on February 6, 2010

Is it wrong to lick the spilt beer off your child’s head because it’s an import and you don’t want it to go to waste?

by dgm on February 7, 2010

That is a riot! Made me laugh out loud!

by Who's That Girl on February 7, 2010

In a pinch, the dog does a pretty good clean-up job. Dog will even clean out a dirty diaper.

by Mike Krause on February 7, 2010

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February 1, 2010

In between all the snuggles, the walks to the park, the cupcakes covered in sprinkles, the time-outs, the explorations, and the princess dresses, you turned three, and I guess that means you’re not my baby girl any more.

I am astonished sometimes when I glance over at you and think, who is this little girl, and what did she do with my baby?

Your birthdays have always had a way of making me pause and reflect on your life. I remember the day you were born, there was so much chaos and drama that surrounded your arrival, but the minute I touched you for the first time, it was as if the whole world said, hush.

You instantly calmed me, when I was supposed to be the one calming you.

I can’t imagine a single day without your sunny face in it. You are a joy and blessing to my life. I love your personality,  your rhythm, your cadence, and your heart.

You constantally make me laugh. And you’re so concerned on whether or not I’m a ‘happy girl’, and if I’m not a ‘happy girl’ you will do everything in your power to make me smile.

You love adventure and exploring new places.

You have an amazing sence of style,

And you will argue that you can never have too much purple.

You are unique.

You are truly a gift and I wish you a very happy birthday.

I love you with everything in me,




Sweetest post ever! You are one of the best mamas in the world.

by Dena Lucas on February 1, 2010

She’s a cutie pie! Happy Birthday sweet Berlyn! 🙂

by Taylore Coulombe on February 1, 2010

This is beyond precious… Would it be bad if I copy and paste it onto my blog for Addison? With a few minor tweaks it could work. 😉

by sarah on February 3, 2010

I didn’t want to ruin the whole 3 theme and put a 4th comment up but I also didn’t want to miss out on saying happy day to you both!

by Lora on February 4, 2010

Leg warmers on little bodies kill me with the cuteness… Happy Birthday to you, Berlyn!

by Kristin on February 4, 2010

[…] 3 […]

by Berlyn is five! | Hippo Brigade on February 1, 2012

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