A few of you have been pestering me, asking over and over and over again, "Ellie, are these stories all TRUE? And what does your husband say about all of this nonsense?"
Ah, yes, the esteemed Mr D. What does he think?
Let's leave that for a moment, and address the question at hand. Are these stories all true?
I'm afraid not. There are little tiny snippets of truth woven inside and between some mighty and long extravagant and outrageous lies. Good thing, right? Although a friend pointed out today that it would be a good explanation for all the moving our family has done. We live in a place just long enough for me to blacken my reputation and then I get run out of town on a rail, tarred and feathered. The scarlet "A" and all of it.
Nawwww, it ain't like that. My record is as pure as the driven snow. I don't even cheat on line calls, unlike some of you, and certainly not on my lovely husband! He recognizes my artistic gifts and tolerates them, although he did have a little wonder about my Scottish "boyfriend". Apparently my description of Angus's breakfasts (porridge and cream, quails' eggs, and haggis) was so convincing that he was slightly concerned that the rest of it was all true as well. Poor baby! I went ahead and bought him a Borat swimsuit to make amends, which thrilled him to bits. He's promised to model it for us, and is doing extra crunches at the gym to prepare for the photo shoot. That's my honeybun!
Besides, there's no room to stitch a scarlet letter onto a turquoise monokini, so there you are. My reputation is intact. Qui pro quo. Or quod erat demonstrandum is what I meant to say, I think. Q.E.D. So there. Proved! (Gosh, Latin is hard!)
And that's that. I like to think of myself as Glen Ellyn's Scheherazade, spinning tale after tale of make believe, bringing us pleasurably to another morning alive and ... still dieting. (Sorry, gang!)
Tomorrow is another weigh in, and hopefully you've had a successful week. I accidentally ate a whole bag of mini-Heath bars somewhere between Saturday and Monday morning, but have astonishingly been able to right the ship, so fingers crossed for tomorrow! And speaking of dieting, don't bother to buy your regular copy of National Enquirer this week -- I've already got it, and will bring it to drills tomorrow. It's the ALL NEW 50 BEST AND WORST BEACH BODIES edition, with swimsuit wearing hotties and notties. Should re-inspire you to eat a little less!
Meanwhile, the Olympics has inspired me. Hasn't it you?
I think I will take up football. That's an Olympic sport I think. Yes?
No?
Gosh you are SUCH a spoilsport.
Ta ta ...
Until tomorrow,
x e
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