tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651217424417577032012-02-24T04:22:55.127-08:00I was once told that for a pretty little thing I have a filthy mouth. I like this story because it implies that I am little, and pretty. As for the filthy mouth- F*** it. My writing is supposed to entertain- not offend. However, if you are offended by what I have to say- read someone else's blog. Enjoy!MorganUnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-47547456210601194452012-02-22T12:18:00.001-08:002012-02-22T12:18:34.197-08:00

I read a quote today- it said ”Every woman deserves a man that makes her forget that her heart was ever broken.”  It was an ironic time to have read the quote as last night a few girlfriends and myself spent much of the evening consoling a friend who was recently broken hearted.  After the girls left, I looked at Mr. Not So New and once again felt an overwhelming love and gratitude for having him

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-17712029673370450772012-02-10T10:11:00.000-08:002012-02-10T10:11:31.784-08:00

Recently for my real job- I call it my real job because I have many imaginary ones. For example I am a star of the Real Housewives of Rutland County reality show, I am Tom Brady’s personal masseuse and of course a famous writer. Any way as I began- as an obligation to the job that is not only in existence in my head, I attended a meeting based on hiring the men and women that are returning from

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-23334126526198899202011-11-11T05:47:00.000-08:002011-11-11T05:47:41.510-08:00

 It is the moment that we have all been waiting for.  The moment in which my dedication and motivation is put to the test.  The moment in which Beth the Deaths coaching and training skills are measured quite literally as is the circumference of my ass.  In the beginning of the week I confessed to BTD that I was not too hopeful for results.  I have been feeling down about my appearance.  I haven't

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-89230123730037760022011-11-04T06:55:00.000-07:002011-11-04T06:55:44.838-07:00

My friends and I are how you say…blunt. Sometimes the level of our bluntness gets us in trouble…with each other. Recently, my blunt friend- we will call Red approached me about something she had on her mind. She asked me if I was at all concerned that my blog might offend people. She was concerned that there might be overweight people out there reading my blog and cussing me for being a skinny

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-87027132310341295322011-11-03T06:51:00.001-07:002011-11-03T06:51:37.355-07:00

Beth is back. I didn’t have good news for her when she arrived at my door- kettle bell in hand. I wanted to tell her that I did everything she told me to do- I wanted to tell her that I have given up wine and had fallen in love with exercise. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t eat any Halloween candy and that I said no to pasta…Here is what I did tell her Ummmm….I didn’t get a chance to

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-18982203175089122502011-10-21T07:04:00.000-07:002011-10-21T07:04:02.596-07:00

Cardio is my nemesis. I hate it. I hate it as much as I hate water, and will power and Tyra Banks. But I know it is necessary. You know why it is necessary? Because as I was jogging around the yard with a resistance band held out in front of me, making me look like some exercise crazed Zombie, my ass was walloping. That is the only word I can think of. It was like it was its own creature and I

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-48826723188907634652011-10-20T11:31:00.000-07:002011-10-20T11:31:23.371-07:00

Typing this blog hurts a bit. That is because yesterday Beth the Death put my upper body through one hell of a work out and I am reminded of this every time I move. Okay, I may be exaggerating a bit, I am not uncomfortable but I do feel in desperate need of a massage. Usually if I want a massage I have to first…well never mind. Some of the moves that Beth had me doing last night, I was

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-20882660687822705822011-10-14T13:39:00.000-07:002011-10-14T13:39:19.110-07:00

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-19979399408784985912011-10-14T06:49:00.000-07:002011-10-14T06:49:02.297-07:00

I have changed the nick name for Beth. It is no longer Rocking Body Beth, It is Beth the Death as in that skinny little thing is going to be the death of me. After Tuesdays work out I was feeling quite sore. By quite sore I mean that every time I walked down a flight of stairs I seriously contemplated just tucking, rolling and praying for a safe landing. I hovered over the toilet seat like a

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-13602713776187654142011-10-12T06:27:00.000-07:002011-10-12T06:27:39.779-07:00

In an effort to get a reduced rate on personal training sessions, I have agreed to be the model client for Killington Bootcamp. This means that I am working out 2x's a week with Beth Roberts and allowing her to track my progress on her website. Little did she know when striking a deal with me that I am an attention whore and would have done so gladly regardless of a discounted rate. Anyway, the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-90316068812308463082011-07-19T07:19:00.000-07:002011-07-19T08:47:36.210-07:00

Alright , I know that I have been bragging to you about my happiness- well hold on partners I have a bit of bitching to do. Yes, I am still blissfully happy, but don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually wake to birds chirping, heavens opening and sun shining on my flawless face. I still wake to a toddler standing at the top of the stairs- screeching to rival a hyena’s mating call “Mooooommmmmyyyy!!!”

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-1227945590607508792011-07-15T06:02:00.001-07:002011-07-15T06:02:37.482-07:00

Ok I’m sorry- I know it has been awhile since my last blog and I apologize. It’s funny you know? When I wasn’t sure where I was going, when my love life was as successful as Obama’s attack on the deficit, when I needed a break from life- it was humorous to you…right? I get it- there is a reason why I stayed up last night until 11 watching Tru TV’s Dumbest Partiers. People that can’t get their

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-80048458153089097112011-05-02T06:12:00.000-07:002011-05-02T06:12:50.438-07:00

Ever since I can remember my father has been at war. No, he is not a soldier in the US military. He had no part in the death of Bin Laden. My father has been in an on-going battle with the squirrels of Proctor Vermont. Each year the battle intensifies and my father’s methods and weapons of choice vary. One year he bought a bird feeder with a special ring around the bottom. If light weight birds

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-48244323623642910822011-04-28T08:33:00.000-07:002011-04-28T08:33:23.287-07:00

Every girl dreams of being a princess right? Actually, I know you won't believe this but that was never a dream of mine.  I dreamt of being lost in the woods like the boy in the book Hatchet.  I watched a 60 Minutes episode about a woman that had no arms and had to brush her teeth with her feet- oh how I longed for that talent.  If the Little Mermaid counts I guess I dreamt of being a princess

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-86513096966455294142011-04-14T06:26:00.000-07:002011-04-14T06:27:43.826-07:00

I have taken on a new strategy with dating Mr New that I have never really tried before.  It is called Honesty.  For those of you that have no idea what this concept is about, let me clarify.  From day one of dating Mr. New I have been honest (not lied or mislead) to the point of which I may scare him a bit.  My theory behind this new and foreign concept to me is that Mr. New will go into the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-49423463940537103932011-04-01T06:54:00.000-07:002011-04-01T06:54:41.008-07:00

Things are still wonderful with Mr New.  I still have butterflies and the plastic smell has yet to wear off.  But there is one thing.  Mr. New is not shy, he is not modest and he is not aware of the fact that I may be.  OK- I know you are thinking..her? modest?  I know I share pretty much every aspect of my life with the world (ha ha- wishful thinking that the whole world is reading Slightly

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-16128402310444707852011-03-24T05:41:00.000-07:002011-03-24T05:41:19.253-07:00

It's no secret that celebrities like Mariah Carey and Jennifer Lopez flaunt their fame by making the most ridiculous of demands when it comes to what must be in their dressing rooms/ tour busses and hotel rooms prior to their grande arrivals.  Mariah Carey has been said to bathe both herself and her dog in nothing but mineral water and needs a new toilet seat installed wherever she desides to sit

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-66529165778197778152011-03-14T10:30:00.000-07:002011-03-14T10:30:04.297-07:00

I have not fallen off the face of the earth. I have not been in a coma for the last month and a half…I have been relishing in the happiness that a new relationship can bring. I apologize for abandoning you but my mind has been quite occupied. I have been busy with butterflies, perma- grins, and dinner dates. It has been about a month and a half now and I am beginning to wonder- how long can the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-77920737802883910362011-02-28T09:38:00.000-08:002011-02-28T09:38:02.043-08:00

Apparently I have an Un Fan- below is a comment received on my last post: you're fucking bonkers. please buy a journal...and see a therapist who specializes in personality disorders... your sniveling is more than obnoxious, it's revolting. and yet you seem amused by yourself. a true narcissist. pathetic. do your poor child a favor and get help fast. Being the narccissist that I have been acused

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-7964692642708109352011-02-17T07:59:00.000-08:002011-02-17T07:59:47.769-08:00

I worry.  I worry that blogging about my worrying might scare people off.  I worry that you think I am talking about you, as in you think I'm worried about scarring you off.  I wake up in the morning and worry that all the drinking I did the night before is going to make it impossible for me to fit into any of my clothes.  I worry that my butt looks big and my hair looks flat.  I wish that I

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-72548628051312801482011-01-31T12:29:00.000-08:002011-01-31T12:29:21.899-08:00

The following entry is a backwards time line of my weekend- enjoy!!! 2:00 pm Sunday – Stepmother, father and I bid goodbye to Vee (my 87 year old grandmother), she is in her new apartment at the elderly community. Her neighbors Camilla and Harold have just introduced themselves and already the three are singing- out of tune, but none of them seem to notice…except for the three of us in the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-73845564099862673822011-01-28T06:53:00.000-08:002011-01-28T06:55:18.330-08:00

The good news is Little Man is potty trained. The Bad news is we have a 2.33 second window to rip off his pants, scoop him up and run him half naked through the kitchen into the bathroom before he begins the process. The good news is I found a house to rent. The bad news is my father seems to forget that I have lived on my own for 11 years now and still finds the need to inform me that “

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-61594423995315228962011-01-27T11:38:00.000-08:002011-01-27T11:38:41.751-08:00

This morning woke up from a bad dream. In the dream I found out that I had a thyroid condition and that meant that not only had I been wasting the last month of my time at the gym trying to sweat off my love handles but that I was not going to resemble Twiggy on my France trip what so ever. I woke startled and hit my head on the ceiling. No, I do not live on the 13th1/2 floor like John Malkovich,

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-40452016970348428862010-12-17T12:55:00.001-08:002010-12-17T12:55:59.913-08:00

When picturing the memory making moment of picking out a Christmas tree, and taking it home to decorate I picture my family like a new aged version of the Walton’s- with 6 less children. I picture my son, and for once his hair does not have two cowlicks and is lying flat on his head. My Hubby and I are holding hands, while the unmistakable voice of Nat King Cole serenades us. The house smells of

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-19605309990905823222010-11-29T12:46:00.000-08:002010-11-29T12:46:27.560-08:00

Girls Reunion weekend- in a nutshell... 1.  It is true what Cosmo says.  Women are sexier in their 30's...maybe because we now have money for both beer and eyebrow waxing.  Maybe it is because we can afford to have our hair done by someone who actually went to cosmetology school and graduated.  Maybe it is because since we were in college- SPANX have been invented and high waisted jeans- thanks

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-49391668339634241602010-11-05T09:45:00.000-07:002010-11-05T09:56:33.550-07:00

Today is the end of an era.  The end of the blonde MorganU.  The end of ego boosting cat calls, free drinks and valid excuses for my moments of sheer brainlessness. Tomorrow I embark on a new journey.  I venture into the often underrated world of the brunette.  I am saying goodbye to my inner Marilyn and introducing the world to my new attitude - a- la- JLo.  Why you ask, am I trading in sun

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-55975578711323409002010-10-08T11:19:00.001-07:002010-10-08T11:19:26.045-07:00

On behalf of my mothers birthday I am reposting a blog I wrote last year...enjoy Jane’s Daughter When I was born my parents were living in a little farm house in Shrewsbury VT. Its bucolic setting, sheep in the yard and pond across the street was a far cry from the upper middle class neighborhood in Scarsdale NY that my mother grew up in. She and my father were young hippies, and moving to

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-10367238342593612132010-09-24T09:17:00.000-07:002010-09-24T09:17:50.794-07:00

Dear Oprah, I do not know how this happened-but somehow I missed the opportunity to compete against other Oprah fans for the opportunity of receiving my own show. Surely, you sent out a memo or sent me a letter personally, and I intend on having some serious WORDS with my postal carrier because the memo was not received. As a true fan of yours, and one that has very real intentions of

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-21394583566404964502010-09-22T12:40:00.000-07:002010-09-22T12:50:34.861-07:00

 I was watching Entertainment Tonight Monday evening in preparation of the big Dancing with the Stars premier- and there was a segment about Oprah's new show- in which contestants compete for their own television talk show on the O network.  I sprung out of "lounge" pose- straight into "where the f*** was I pose" which is sitting straight up- wine spilling onto my sheets and chin dropped

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-9879830663982953032010-09-09T06:25:00.000-07:002010-09-09T06:34:43.116-07:00

I just returned to the real world from a much needed vacation.  This is the time of year that Eccentric Uncle B comes to VT to escape the hustle and bustle of Brooklyn.  You may remember him from last years post "Boxers In Branches".  If not, let me re cap.  Uncle B is the strangest man on the planet.  He washes his clothes every night in the sink with a bar of soap and then decorates the house

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-74684628008805837012010-08-11T06:39:00.000-07:002010-08-11T06:39:21.921-07:00

Sorry that I have been out of the bloggy world for a bit.  I have been busy being bored.  Sounds like an oxymoron right?  Like, well if you are so bored...why don't you blog.  The thing is I like to give you good quality material...and I haven't had much to go on lately.  My ever talkative child has been belting out "I Wanna Be a Billionaire so FRICKIN Bad" it makes me laugh enough to pee a

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-89596851023416792672010-07-28T09:38:00.000-07:002010-07-28T10:21:35.687-07:00

Today, on my lunch break I met with...get ready for it...my new...LIFE COACH.  No, this is not going to be like my last diet, or week of sobriety- this is going to last.  We met at a trendy coffee shop- perfect location for my new age adventure.  While sipping an Italian soda and munching on a hummus sandwich I explained to my life coach why I was meeting with her in the first place.  I told her

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-85988769781254953302010-07-20T07:38:00.000-07:002010-07-20T07:38:57.541-07:00

A glimpse into my thought processes. Making popcorn in an office setting should be like chewing gum in elementary school- you can only do it if you have enough to share with everyone...or at least me.  I really need to clean out my fridge because I have gotten to the point where I have to hold my breath before opening it.  I also make a game plan before venturing in as to be in and out in the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-39157035194873736412010-07-19T07:52:00.000-07:002010-07-19T07:52:54.191-07:00

On an average night at our house, I can be found in my kitchen- cooking and watching crime shows or reality nonsense while Honey is in the living room watching the Discovery or History Channel. This past weekend in an effort to spend time together we found a reality show on the Discover channel- perfect compromise. The show was called Man, Woman, Wild. The premise of the show is a married couple-

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-49191729125405998942010-07-14T07:05:00.000-07:002010-07-14T07:05:51.838-07:00

Hey Bloggie fans I have some good news (for me, you may not care...but you should..)  I have started a second blog.  Actually my sister Jess and I have.  It is called Mamma Mia's and it is a foodie blog for foodie moms.  Be sure to check it out at mammamiascook.blogspot.com  We will be posting recipes (my sister is a chef), and sharing stories  as if we were sitting around the dining room table

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-63085760383306627622010-07-09T08:28:00.000-07:002010-07-09T08:32:20.116-07:00

You know when you are growing up...and you are a bit naughty...and your parents say to you: I can't wait until you have children! I think I know exactly what they were talking about.  Both my self and Pretty Much Hubby were not exactly Little Angels.  You may have read my blog about being deemed an IMP in my kindergarten report card.  Well Ladies and Gentlemen- Payback is a bitch! Here are a

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-63686761516669540202010-07-07T07:39:00.000-07:002010-07-07T07:39:00.482-07:00

I Morgan Solemnly swear to never touch my own head or anyone else's for the rest of my life.  I promise to love, cherish and obey (not sure how to do that) the hair on my head, my Pretty Much Husbands and our poor, innocent recently scalped child's. I don't quote Brittany Spears very often but being that she shaved her own head and I mistakenly shaved my toddlers I found it fitting so Ill say

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-28285376920967701932010-06-21T09:08:00.000-07:002010-06-22T05:58:44.002-07:00

Many of my worst moments have occurred as a result of my impulsiveness.  On a whim I have bought $80 diet pills only to have taken them once, not liked the jittery feeling and stuffed them in my desk, traded in a perfectly good affordable car for a car that I can barely afford and don't really like, and had every hair color and cut imaginable...I have topped my dumbest moment..topped it with a

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-28589637182524398372010-06-10T09:41:00.000-07:002010-06-10T10:50:48.645-07:00

This week I met muscles in my body that previously I was completely unaware of.  I have a muscle just below the sagging crease of my bottom, somewhere below the exact spot that my saddle bags have been dwelling for as long as I can remember.  Deep, underneath the dimpled skin has been this muscle.  I tried to google the name of it and got nothing so I have named it my Bin Laden muscle for its

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-13296290274570053382010-06-01T07:33:00.000-07:002010-06-01T07:33:27.822-07:00

This weekend I came to a revelation.  The majority of the bodies on the beach- In Vermont anyway- are well... lets just say not awe inspiring.  When bathing suit season rolls into town- I go into panic mode.  I stock up on green tea, Sally Hansen Air Brush legs, and clothing that promises to slim.  One year I bought an at home seaweed wrap and had to ask Honey to help Saran Wrap me from head to

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-70138575112864744872010-05-24T10:40:00.000-07:002010-05-24T10:40:19.539-07:00

I must seek out the Higher Being whomever he/she may be and thank him/her for my maternal instincts.  Last night, I stayed at my fathers house because his wife is away and he needed some company...and someone to make him dinner.  Being that there is no TV in the guest room or the room that used to belong to me and is now referred to as Little Man's room, I usually sleep on the couch.  I like to

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-89693112057613438042010-05-17T08:41:00.000-07:002010-05-17T08:41:45.044-07:00

Lunch at the Lakehouse restaurant is always a favorite sunny day excursion of mine.  Yesterday while downing sipping two a Margarita, and dining on nachos two ducks swam up to our table.  Little Man was in his glory.  I told him that he could feed them- nachos, hot dogs and french fries are actually really good for ducks.  It's a proven fact.  While contemplating actually tipping the ducks for

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-66166422491221403362010-05-13T10:50:00.000-07:002010-05-13T12:29:51.922-07:00

Be careful what you say to my 2 year old- he is not only Captian Obvious these days but he has married that persona with a new one: Mr. Literal. Captain Obvious shows his colors all day.  "Mommy you driving?", "Mommy you sleeping?", "Mommy you in the living room".  If LM were not a 2 year old my instinct would be to smack him on the forehead while muttering the famously 1990's catch phrase "Duh"

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-67708979118358096102010-05-10T09:37:00.000-07:002010-05-10T09:37:42.851-07:00

In efforts to focus on the positivity that life brings, I have decided to unplug.  I have deactivated my Facebook account......Deep breathe. I began to find that facebook although, it has its positives, is also a breeding ground for judgement.  I don't want people reading and twisting my words, making assumptions about me, my family and my relationship status (Pretty Much Married is not even an

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-50891393687972705982010-05-06T06:46:00.000-07:002010-05-06T06:46:04.214-07:00

To say that my brother is high strung is like saying that Oprah is well off.  He is wound higher and tighter than Hiedi Montags new cheeks.  When I asked my little city sib if he was interested in camping with us in June his reaction was priceless. Brother:What is it, like, this camping thing? Like what do you do? Me:I'm a little confused as to what it is you are asking.  You can't be telling me

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-32601131433079217592010-04-30T10:16:00.000-07:002010-04-30T10:16:44.636-07:00

I figured I would give the Thai restaurant in town the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, the reason that there are NEVER any cars in the parking lot is that this is VT. Vermonters consider Taco Bell a perfectly acceptable restaurant when craving food of a foreign land. Thai food does not appeal to many of the meat and potato people that populate the whitest state in the United States. I on the other,

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-84152325641710097362010-04-28T08:50:00.000-07:002010-04-28T08:50:49.358-07:00

Dear Mother Nature, Although I have been complaining that my body is no where near the condition that it should be in for the Skimpier clothes that spring demands, I did not want you to bring winter back. I do appreciate being able to wear the bulky sweater today which allows me the freedom of not sucking in, however I had vowed to myself that this year would be the last year that I hang on

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-47557298931796931262010-04-19T10:38:00.000-07:002010-04-19T10:38:30.734-07:00

The thing with bangs is that they are just not a good idea for people like me. You know people that give themselves 30 minutes in the morning to get themselves and their toddler dressed, and in the car headed to work/daycare. People like me who regularly can’t find their hairbrush- or the last one that they had, being that the first two have already disappeared somewhere in the house where all

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-15638763805623751282010-04-12T11:12:00.000-07:002010-04-12T11:12:39.902-07:00

Day one of my staycation- and Little Man is home sick. There goes my sleeping in, coffee in bed, Regis and Kelly and day to pop out a few chapters in the novel I have decided to write.  Luckily, after a night of sickening symptoms that I won't make you suffer through- Little Man seems his chipper self today.  After lazily fromping our way through the morning, I decided to swing into gear and

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-35024561419731555032010-04-05T09:53:00.000-07:002010-04-05T10:00:19.542-07:00

Quick question for you- how did we get a bunny that lays chocolate eggs and jelly beans (do bunnies even lay eggs, arent they mammals?) out of the resurrection of Christ (Jesus is Christ right, or is that God?)?  And which came first the cavity creating rabbit or Jesus?  And why did the Chicken cross the road?  I am so confused.  As if things in this world didnt confuse me enough- you have to go

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-7359095498167436992010-03-31T07:07:00.000-07:002010-03-31T07:07:16.034-07:00

When I was 16 my grandmother told me my ass was so big she could play poker on it.  I cried, and then I got over it.  My grandmother is a tell it like it is kind of woman, and if you don't like it, don't listen.  Im a bit like my grandmother.  I started this blog almost a year ago..with no idea where it would go or who would read it if anyone.  I wasn't sure if it would be like my latest diet and

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-84022065984457695092010-03-22T06:48:00.000-07:002010-03-22T06:48:34.591-07:00

Morons....EVERYWHERE! Over tired- weekend way too short Need a gun....to shoot MORONS Don't talk to me...it's monday, and you're a MORON A.M. came way to early Yelling might make me feel better- especially if yelling at MORONS

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-40601445055250014532010-03-15T12:04:00.000-07:002010-03-16T11:02:01.847-07:00

I love my son. This weekend while visiting a goat farm (this is Vermont you know) Little Man walked right up to the big momma goat and said “Hi dinosaur”, then casually strolled away. This cracked me up. Not only did the ugly goat-ette look an awful lot like a prehistoric creature, but the nonchalant-ness of the statement was priceless. Its as if Little Man lives in a world where seeing dinosaurs

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-34098776642468388632010-03-12T06:56:00.000-08:002010-03-12T06:56:00.039-08:00

I’m not sure yet, if my morning mishaps have become cumbersome and overdone- however, my blondest moments happen to occur prior to my first sip of coffee…what I am getting at is that this is another blog about well…my morning. I will tell this story a little differently- just to switch it up a bit. Ill start with the result of my AM goof- I think I have a brain tumor- it’s the only explanation,

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-52843254066314665422010-02-16T13:21:00.000-08:002010-02-16T13:21:04.286-08:00

I can tell by the way my son wakes up, what kind of a day it is going to be.  Some days he wakes up, rubs the sleep out of his eyes, gazes dreamily into my own and says "Hi Mommy".  Those are the good days.  The days that he willingly puts on his coat and boots while blabbing to me about what he is going to do at "school".  Then there are the days that I burn myself on the forehead with the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-70853025980848541822010-02-09T06:52:00.001-08:002010-02-09T06:52:45.120-08:00

We have reached the crucial time in every toddler’s life, that the Mommy and the Daddy have had enough of diapers and wet sheets….the time when the push for using the potty is more important than…well anything really. I am pretty sure that I would sacrifice a cute and cuddly animal or a distant relative if it meant that diapers were a thing of our families past, even a far memory or a lapse in

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-19633140102829015252010-01-27T06:40:00.000-08:002010-01-27T07:21:59.433-08:00

Okay- so I had 2 glasses of red last night- but I have excuses and I feel that they are legit .            1. I made stoganoff and it has red wine in it- which meant that I had to buy some, open it and I couldn't get the cork back in (you'll never know if that is the truth).            2. I had a friend come over and I am not rude..had to offer her a glass, which she kindly accepted- and again

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-43349790186717675952010-01-25T08:54:00.000-08:002010-01-25T08:54:36.730-08:00

In an effort to slip on my skinny jeans while simultaneously saving my liver I have decided, after lengthy consideration to...are you sitting down?..cut down on the wine drinking.  I came to this conclusion when PMH arrived home Friday night with a bottle of wine.  Instead of being cheery and thankful, I was annoyed that he didn't get 2 bottles- it was Friday afterall.  Later Pretty Much Hubby

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-25184778373262440722010-01-15T13:19:00.000-08:002010-01-27T13:14:41.345-08:00

I have a long awaited chick night tonight- complete with fruity and delicious flavored martinis, food that is not one of the following five meals that I am allowed to make/serve Pretty Much Hubby 1)spaghetti 2)beef stew 3)shepards pie 4)Shrimp Scampi or 5)Steak and rice.  I am going to wear heels that hurt and a shirt that will show off my assetts (big old boobies) and drape loosly over the Spanx

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-37954265816908533222010-01-06T06:43:00.000-08:002010-01-06T08:33:42.657-08:00

Yoga- by definition (mine) is a relaxing form of stretching in which one becomes aware of the connection between mind, body and spirit (?).  It is a new year and like many of you I am turning over a new, fit leaf.  For three (long) days now I have been doing yoga and just like I swore to you that I loved Weight Watchers I will swear to you that I love yoga! I feel like I am standing taller, my

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-17025268894749727202009-12-27T17:57:00.000-08:002010-01-27T08:04:48.569-08:00

I have been told by many that my son is advanced in his speech.  He is a parrot.  This has always made me proud, until recently.  Last week Little Mans teacher took me aside to tell me the good news: that he went pee pee on the potty and the bad news: that when he missed the trash can with his paper towel he muttered the word shit under his breathe as naturally as you or I would given the same

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-51708088120016820182009-12-22T06:47:00.000-08:002009-12-22T06:47:30.101-08:00

I firstly would like to apologize for the cockiness that is about to follow.  I take full responsibility for the giant head that has grown accustomed to the top of my neck, and I completely recognize that it is unwarranted.  Yesterday, as I was walking through the over populated grocery store aisles with a look of empty-headedness on my face, I was recognized.  That's right; a charming older

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-63106174912024780502009-12-08T17:36:00.000-08:002009-12-08T17:36:03.486-08:00

I dont want to alarm you.  I haven't been diagnosed by a doctor...yet, but I am pretty sure that I have a severe allergy to..this is hard to admit..work.  I have spent the day at home with my toddler who refuses to share toys but happily accepts it when other toddlers share pinkeye and lice.  Today it is the tummy bug that keeps me out of the office and Little Man away from daycare.  Now, with

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-625965689462422222009-12-04T07:32:00.000-08:002009-12-04T08:38:18.429-08:00

I feel like I need to come with some sort of explanation. Like before people meet me, someone should say, "before you meet Morgan, let me explain". Why? you ask (We didn't ask, we know why), well I am sort of normal, I mean there is nothing spectacularly abnormal about me. It's just that I am normal- amplified, normal- on steroids, normal-in a not normal sort of way, and I feel like I should

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-84871627757981945522009-11-27T08:28:00.000-08:002009-11-27T08:28:44.905-08:00

Dear Oprah, Attached please find my resume.  I am applying for the position of Talk Show Host, now that you have decided to retire.  I think you will find that I am highly qualified.  I have absolutely no some experience and a barely there fantastic work ethic.  I have been entertaining friends my whole life and I am very confident that I would be a great Oprah. Thank you for your consideration,

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-68862059965497800602009-11-18T07:30:00.000-08:002009-11-18T07:30:29.082-08:00

It is that time of year that we gather as families, stuff our faces, and share what we are thankful for. I would like to let you all know what I am thankful for since most of what I am thankful for is not appropriate to share at the table in front of my pretty much in-laws. So here is what I am thankful for in 2009: 1. I can’t believe I am saying this, but I am thankful for The Wiggles. The

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-10812139819202211122009-11-12T08:05:00.001-08:002010-01-27T13:20:00.919-08:00

My day started with a dilema...never a good start. I woke up at 7:20 and I had to go to the bathroom...the dilema? I don't have to get up until 7:25. Whats a girl to do? Do I lay in my warm and cozy bed for five more minutes with one eye open while watching the clock- half praying that the time will go by fast so that I can relieve the uncomfortable pressure on my bladder and half begging for the

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-86595358926624608192009-11-06T07:27:00.001-08:002009-11-06T07:27:41.362-08:00

As you may or may not know, I tend bar at a local watering hole once a week. I have been there for 5(?) years. I started out bartending to make extra money for shoes and booze, and then when Little Man came along my extra money started going toward diapers and noodles (all he eats). I love where I work. I get the same crowd every week and they have become like my Thursday night family. For

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-11528735661742752312009-11-03T08:11:00.001-08:002009-11-03T08:11:56.023-08:00

So I am truly honored that a few of you readers have taken it upon yourselves to hound me when I have not blogged in a week. I know, I promised more and last week I blogged alot. The thing is that nothing really exciting or blog-worthy has happened lately. I mean I could tell you about how I dressed as a German Beer Wench for Halloween and partied like there was no tomorrow all the while

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-84092954147687960962009-10-27T10:39:00.001-07:002009-10-27T10:39:24.358-07:00

Actual conversation between myself and Pretty Much Hubby: Me: What are you looking at? PMH: nothing… Me: You’re looking at my lip, do I have a mustache? PMH: Yeah, actually, you kinda do. Me: Shut up! Really? Is is it black or blonde? PMH:blonde Me: Should I wax it? PMH: Yes Me: Don’t tell me that! PMH: What? I’m just looking out for you. Great. I have a mustache that rivals Sam Elliot’s. I

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-7135827948203638732009-10-26T09:22:00.001-07:002009-10-26T09:22:40.470-07:00

If you haven’t already figured this out, not only m I slightly irrational, but I also am easily annoyed. But, how can I expect the world to follow my rules, if I never tell the world what those rules are. Here are the ridiculous things that people say or do that make me want to push them down stairs (I don’t think she is stable) . 1. Unless you are six years old –in which case it is kind of

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-63466645253801598082009-10-24T08:33:00.000-07:002009-10-24T08:33:49.001-07:00

I have an excuse for everything.  Take right now for example, my excuse for sitting here listening tojazz and blogging instead of cleaning out the smelly fridge is that my feet are cold.  The kitchen floor is cold and so are my feet, so i should blog.  My excuse for not cleaning out my car today...it is raining, which would be a valid excuse if it weren't for the fact that my excuse last weekend

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-45952227061151271732009-10-21T13:02:00.001-07:002009-10-21T13:02:04.522-07:00

So, a few unrelated yet related things have happened to me this week having to do with models/modeling. The first was that at a party (where was her child?) I was told that I looked like Tyra Banks. For those of you that know me, go get a tissue clean up whatever just came flying out of your nose. For those of you that don't know me, a) I am a white girl. b)I am a white girl that looks more

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-37776525512888143572009-10-20T18:12:00.000-07:002009-10-20T18:12:02.583-07:00

Today I 1. Woke up late after planning on waking a half hour early. 2. Started a load of laundry, had the washing machine die on me and had to rinse clothes in sink. 3. Guilt tripped friends into babysitting because I had a mandatory training tonight that I had not planned for (I helped organize it) 4. Ran out of cat food- no money until tomorrow night so Banana will be eating tuna fish tomorrow.

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-39443960072314798612009-10-19T12:40:00.001-07:002009-10-19T12:40:01.305-07:00

When I am finally able to rest my head at the end of the day, I often think "Okay,I survived another day". It's not that I have a death defying job, although I do put my makeup on while driving myself to the office. I don't have dangerous hobbies, but I have been known to stumble down stairs after par taking in my favorite hobbie..wine drinking. What I am getting at is, it isn't easy being me.

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-30439853421460808472009-10-14T13:02:00.000-07:002009-10-14T13:03:18.276-07:00

I have a date tonight. I am so excited! His name is Cosmo Politan and he is the perfect date. He never lets me down. He immediately puts me at ease and he doesn’t care what condition my hair, clothes or ass is in. I feel like a school girl when I am with Cosmo, I giggle and blush, like a pre-teen on a first date. Sometimes I even get clammy hands when he is around.The best part about him

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-2528535470718365992009-10-14T08:37:00.000-07:002009-10-14T08:51:00.214-07:00

I have been cranky lately. I think that sleeping with an ever growing almost two year old is a large part of the reason. This morning, my favorite morning radio show posed the question, "What do you daydream about?"I have been sitting at my desk this morning doing just that, daydreaming...I'm in my beautiful gourmet kitchen that is warm from the stove being on. The smell of basil, oregano and

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-77855541275984884932009-10-07T17:48:00.000-07:002009-10-07T18:43:23.543-07:00

When I was about 9 years old, I discovered the joy of prank phone calls. There was no one with in my area code that was safe. I was ruthless, impish, if you may. I called married couples, and informed the wife that her husbands Playboy subscription was running out. I called the poor gentleman name Harry Butts on a daily basis, to prove to friends and neighborhood kids that there was in fact,

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-53203158187711423512009-09-30T06:22:00.001-07:002009-09-30T07:31:05.645-07:00

My kindergarden teachers name was Miss Vacca (pronounced Vodka), tell me that wasn't foreshadowing. I loved her, and I loved kindergarten. I remember bringing home my very first report card, and feeling like such a big girl. I was prepared for praise and perhaps a small gift, because my older sister had brought home report cards many times and then was allowed to choose what we were having for

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-58104029064592237852009-09-23T10:56:00.000-07:002009-09-23T10:57:15.053-07:00

This afternoon I had a plan to tackle that extra ten (15) lbs that just wont leave my ass alone. I brought a slim fast shake (that has been sitting in my fridge since the last snow fall) to work with me so that I could sip it while going to Weight Watchers. I was going to sign up, get weighed and leave with my point book in hand. That was the plan anyway.Here is what really happened. I left

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-8111534381248818412009-09-22T12:56:00.000-07:002009-09-23T06:27:38.091-07:00

For the record, when my blog is discovered and I am offered a book deal and a column in Glamour magazine, I would accept an invitation to compete on Dancing With the Stars.The outfits, the glitz, glamour and the tackiness of the whole thing excites me, really, more than it should. Beyond the fact that I am not a star (but really when was the last time Melissa Joan Heart was stalked by paparazzi)

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-41333049138183855762009-09-20T16:59:00.000-07:002009-09-20T17:20:53.718-07:00

Today, I did man chores..and I did them well. Okay, I needed a man to start the lawn mower, but once started I was unstoppable. Blades of grass were surrendering to me like I was Mussolini. Sweat was dripping down my back as I was circling our half acre lot like a dirt track. While pushing the vibrating, bladed piece of machinery I was thinking of the cave women who wore fox pelts and clubbed

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-63829802983895617052009-09-17T10:45:00.000-07:002009-09-18T09:40:34.467-07:00

This morning I woke up and looked out my bedroom window. There, dangling from the branches of one of my Maples was a pair of black boxer briefs. On My God, I thought.. Am I being haunted by the ghosts of boyfriends past? Then I hear CNN blaring from the living room and realize that the undies in the tree belong to my dear, eccentric Uncle B who is currently visiting us from Brooklyn.My Uncle B is

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-6113394930007167302009-09-16T06:55:00.000-07:002009-09-16T07:01:25.188-07:00

I had a dream….and Oprah was in it. The funny thing is that as often as I reference the Oprah show as being the “You know You Made It Moment” I really haven’t watched it since she wore big hair and panty hose. But last night, she came to me.Apparently, two women whose lawn I mowed (I have never mowed a lawn in my life), contacted Oprah about me. They told her that I was an outstanding young

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-27772847537980407102009-09-14T10:11:00.000-07:002009-09-14T10:48:18.075-07:00

Honey and I went to a wedding on Friday and here are the reasons why we missed the ceremony.1. Until Thursday (day before the wedding) I thought that the wedding was in Rhode Island.2. It was in Massachusetts.3. Until Thursday evening (night before wedding) I had no idea what time the wedding was.4. My Honey (even though it was his friend) had no idea either.5. Not a clue in the world what

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-87237930367834142702009-09-06T17:31:00.000-07:002009-09-06T18:10:02.860-07:00

This morning I was being nosy on facebook, looking at everyones photos, imagining what their lives are like. I found myself looking at pics of a semi friend, who lives a Completely different life to mine. Firstly, she is the kind of girl that you don't want to like because not only is she literally, naturally a size 1, she has boobs, great style and ufortunately she is nice too. Her pictures

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-15860763857005469302009-09-04T10:38:00.000-07:002009-09-04T11:07:08.286-07:00

I got pulled over on Wednesday. As soon as I saw the blue lights I knew that my running from the law had caught up with me...quick..game plan..Dumb Blonde..got it!Before Officer Bubble Butt has a chance to open his lip-less mouth I peek out the window and put on my best "frightened child" face. "What did I do?" I say, in a voice just slightly higher and raspier (aka sexier) than my god

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-62962031032029899082009-09-02T06:53:00.000-07:002009-09-02T07:34:49.007-07:00

As if my life were not as crazy and hectic as it is, I decided it would be a great idea to add a family member to our unfinished house. No, Thank the Lord above, I am not pregnant, I got a cat. Last week on my way home from work, in an attempt to do something exciting with my son, I thought we would stop by the Humane Society and play with the animals. Little Man loves animals and he has just

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-41301584502683832602009-09-01T06:49:00.000-07:002009-09-01T07:10:14.963-07:00

Firstly, I apologize for not having blogged lately..but I have a really good excuse. You see, I have been working on co writing a book with my sister...and thanks to this very blog, I have a friend at a publishing company who is quite interested in this book. Are you choking on your morning coffee, like I was when publishing friend contacted me? All of a sudden I am spun into a world of "I

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-32677929777258943412009-08-21T07:27:00.000-07:002009-08-21T08:08:20.870-07:00

Occassionally, for reasons unknown, the female species will gather in groups will the sole purpose of tearing other members of their species apart....one love handle, squeeky voice, and inappropriate outfit at a time. This unusual gathering can happen at anytime however, most frequently this ritual occurs between the hours of 5-7pm a time often referred to as Happy Hour.In my circle of female

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-16021699864061282142009-08-19T06:53:00.000-07:002009-08-19T07:34:11.733-07:00

I find jokes about penises hilarious, I laugh uncontrollably when someone farts unexpectedly, and I find humor at others expense. I can bait my own hook and play in the dirt with my son. Wha am getting at is that i am not easily disgusted. Recently, however, I was utterly and undeniably stomach turning disgusted and I wasn't even watching The Biggest Loser. No, I was watching a middle aged

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-12156496107629796352009-08-13T07:43:00.000-07:002009-08-13T08:09:39.937-07:00

The whole point of a vacation is to really not accomplish anything for at least 4 days, and I can say with gusto that I aced vacation. Technically, I probably only got a B+ because unbeknownst to me, while lounging on the beach without a care in the world, I actually did accomplish something. I began to daydream about the life that I wish I had, the woman that I want to be...The Real Morgan U.

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-78384731596835155512009-07-31T11:03:00.000-07:002009-07-31T11:21:06.244-07:00

Seriously, you blog readers are doing a great job of checking in on my diet..thanks alot (typed with obvious underlay of sarcasm). Couldn't you have just ignored that I haven't reported massive weightloss and extreme sexual harrassment...Noooo, you say "enough about your messy house and naughty child, I want to hear more about you love handles and double chin". So here you go diet Nazi's....

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-51695469684617076162009-07-29T09:24:00.000-07:002009-07-29T09:44:47.702-07:00

So, I know that you are expecting this entry to be about my diet- but I have better material today than my malnourishment and sore muscles (really, it's going well).I am sitting in my 95 Degree kitchen right now- waiting for potatoes to boil (not for me you diet nazi!)- and I just need to vent.It's unfair really, that after a night of barely sleeping due to cranky child that both cranky child and

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-55508505474496568522009-07-27T10:17:00.000-07:002009-07-27T10:30:23.651-07:00

Okay, Day one of the new skinny Morgan...going pretty well. I woke up early this morning and jogged for 20 minutes (well it was supposed to be 20 minutes, felt like an hour was really only 14....), did squats (those totally suck by the way), managed to pump out 10 push ups, and all this before coffee. I didn't have a chance to go grocery shopping this weekend so I had a packet of oatmeal out of

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-38929102608558699712009-07-23T12:26:00.000-07:002009-07-23T12:43:19.948-07:00

Ok, enough is enough. I am sick of suck me in panties, love handles and sex with the lights off. I am going to do something about the 15 (used to be 10) lbs that I bitch about as often as Nancy Grace says the word Pervert . It is time to do something about it, before I am forced to retire my bikini for a one piece skirted lycra moo moo, and just in time for my second chin to convince the third

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-29635268973111717382009-07-17T10:45:00.000-07:002009-07-17T10:48:02.846-07:00

When I was 8 years old, Friday night meant Sleepovers. My friends and I would ride our bikes to each others houses to pack over night bags. We would throw the remnants of a hard weeks worth of graded papers, unfinished homework and half eaten boxes of raisins out of our book bags and stuff the bag with sleepover necessities- (in order of importance) Tape Recorder (for spying on people), Scary

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-24757739456980133442009-07-15T07:47:00.000-07:002010-10-08T11:18:02.433-07:00

Jane’s Daughter When I was born my parents were living in a little farm house in Shrewsbury VT. Its bucolic setting, sheep in the yard and pond across the street was a far cry from the upper middle class neighborhood in Scarsdale NY that my mother grew up in. She and my father were young hippies, and moving to the country in Vermont was the hippie thing to do at that time. By the time my mother

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-19247247971584483832009-07-14T10:59:00.000-07:002009-07-14T11:34:18.918-07:00

There is a dark cloud over many heads in Rutland County today. Today, the news broke that a dear member of our community Madeline Sherman had passed away. Mrs. Sherman, often referred to as just Sherman was my hard ass, high school history teacher. She called me Megan the entire time that she knew me. She handed out detentions for minor infractions. She commanded the room with her deep, loud

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-365121742441757703.post-54521175608597887572009-07-13T12:28:00.000-07:002009-07-13T12:49:39.867-07:00

I haven't decided wether or not I believe in god- but everytime my Little Man takes a two hour nap, midday- right before I am about to abandon my family and move to a third world country where they are sure not to find me, I get a little closer to Catholicism. LM is creeping dangerously close to the terrible two's. His favorite word is "No", he bahaves well for everyone but me, and he fights

MorganUnoreply@blogger.com0