War of the Wheat Thins

Computer scientist, I am not.

Plus this computer hates me. It's my mom's computer and it rides the short bus. We have a love/hate/really want to write in my blog but it won't let me relationship.

It also really doesn't want me to chat with my Really Smart but Still Working for Hell Foods cutie-pie friend (you know who you are.)

Had a great time in Chicago. I met with my rockin' coach (see links on side), Coach Bob, who proceeded to humble my ass on a bike ride. So maybe I'm not all that on the hills. But at least he thinks I can be.

California is loaded with hills (the one my mom lives on rivals the ones I tried my darndest to climb in Chicago).

I've been simply hanging out with my mom. Today they installed her new Freakin' Huge TV. I have to take my contacts out to watch it and I'm pretty sure I'd launch into a seizure if something starts flashing on it. (A little epilepsy humor there. It's okay to laugh.) In case you were wondering, the QVC chicks look uber-scary when they're under that kind of big-TV scrutiny.

Other than that, I ate a 1/2 box of Wheat Thins. I slipped off the wagon. I've been eating nothing but yogurt/granola/fruit sort of things. Then I saw the Wheat Thins and I went postal. A piece of my pre-Coach Bob life, they, along with French fries and intense suger consumption of any kind, are but a hyperactive memory.

Now I'm on the road to losing the little jiggly areas above my hips. I believe the medical term is Muffinitis Topiotapuss. Side effects include increased Wheat Thin consumption. Also noted are intense Frappacino cravings, automatic hand-reaching into the box of Hot Tamales and spreading of real butter onto toast. Consult your doctor.

I'm actually suing the Wheat Thins company. Rachel Ray is on the back of the box. How bad could it be if Rachel Ray has her good-possibility-of-plastic-surgery smile pasted on it, right? I mean, they're wholesome, right? Wheat, good for you, grainy, right? False representation or something.