Tag Archives: happiness

Celebration Time: Come On!

There’s something to be said about goals. I don’t ever really make any and the ones I do make I more than likely am NOT gonna reach or follow up on. That’s just the way I am. In fact, I find that I end up sabotaging myself by making goals. For example when I set a goal of losing weight? I end up eating 20 pounds of Twinkies and Zingers instead. 

So it was no surprise when this year’s (insert the name of the small mountain town near where I live here) 5K Run came and I hadn’t prepared for it. See my friend Dee and Goocher and I usually run this 5K 

It’s about a four year tradition.

 OK hang on. 

I guess I should correct myself. 

It’s tradition to PLAN to run it every year. It’s tradition to PLAN on training for it every year. It’s tradition to SWEAR that nothing is gonna keep us from WINNING it next year. 

It’s a tradition to promise each other to run at least three times a week together alternating by me going to Dee’s town and running there, then going to Goocher’s town and running there, then they coming to MY town and running here. 

However.. sometimes I can’t make it because my boys have a morning football game. Or Goocher can’t make it because of whatever reason she has at the time. In fact, Dee usually is the one that’s pretty consistent about it. 

So anyways, come another year. The phone calls start. 

“Have you registered for the 5K yet?” 

“DAMN! Is it that time already? I haven’t really trained for it or exercised at all. I’m gonna DIE!” 

Well in the end Goocher couldn’t make it this year. But Dee and I registered. 


Dee and her hot bod! I guess I could have this body too if I ran 5 miles a day like her!

Dee and her hot bod! I guess I could have this body too if I ran 5 miles a day like her!

There's a hot body hiding underneath all that. I just KNOW IT!

There's a hot body hiding underneath all that. I just KNOW IT!

And I talked my Lil Sis into registering too. 

My lil sis holding up an energy drink that was in our goody bag. It was apple flavored and it was YUMMY

My lil sis holding up an energy drink that was in our goody bag. It was apple flavored and it was YUMMY

Then she also signed my little nephew up.


My nephew. I just wuvz him.

My nephew. I just wuvz him.

Lil SIS: “I’m bringing a bottle of Cuvee to celebrate afterwards if we both survive!” 

ME: “Hell yah! I’m up for the champagne cause! Bring it!” 

The race usually goes a little something like this for me: 

The organizer of the race says, “Alright everybody! Just a few warnings. You will be running on rough terrain so watch out for potholes, cow pies, rocks, and rattle snakes. OK? On your marks, get set… GO” 

And ummm yeah, he’s not kidding. 

Start off strong… feel good.. hey I think I can do this! I’m gonna be just fine! 

After the ¼ mile marker… oh shit.. is that a.. .a HILL? Is that a hill? Holy shit. YUP that’s a hill. I forgot about the hills. …. Oh gawd Lord help me.

*trip over a rock… but I don’t fall. Recover… keep running. 

A few more hills later .. dear gawd….. when is the mile marker coming up! I’m gonna DIE. Looks down (we’re on rough terrain, hills, over looking a creek) 


Holy shit.. I’m gonna pass out and roll down this damned hill. 

Will anybody see me? 

 Will anybody realize that I just DIED and didn’t finish the race? I can picture my body rolling and tumbling and hitting the rocks all the way down.

I attempt to take a deep breath to snap out of it.

OUCH. Bad idea.

Deep breaths hurt very badly at this point. 

I’m too busy concentrating on breathing and well… staying ALIVE that I hardly noticed the few cow pies I ran over. Thank goodness they are dry already so nothing gets stuck to my shoes. 

An older gentleman passes me up. I hate him. 

I speed up to catch up to him. Then I start walking. He walks too. 

Then he speeds up again. Show  off!  

I let him have his glory. Not because I am out of breath, cramping and about to pass out or anything. I just figure I’ll be nice and let him think he’s actually beating out a very healthy and fit 37 year old woman. It’s good for his ego. I can sense he needs an ego boost and I’m happy to oblige. 

Still jogging but at a very slow pace. Start admiring the scenery. Trees everywhere…I hear the water from the creek that runs right below the hill I’m running. 

Uh.. wait.. is that BEAR POOP? WTF??? 

Pick up my pace but still can’t catch up to the old man. Oh well. 

Finally get to the marker that says we’re halfway done. The rest of the course is downhill so it makes it easier because you don’t really put any effort towards running. You just move your legs and swing your arms and pray to God you don’t roll down the hill. 

I only stop to walk a few times. 

When I get to the ¼ mark I look and see the old man in front of me. A little girl is in front of him. 

Oh WHATTAAAA???  I’m not gonna get beat by an old man and a little girl. HELL-TO-THE-NO! 

I speed up and sprint as fast as I can. Panting… lungs a-blazing like a ten alarm fire, knees a-jiggling like jello, feet a-thumping like BOSE speakers on the pavement. 

I pass the old man. The little girl stops, looks back for gramma and granpa. I utter in between breaths, “Go girl, go! Don’t worry about them right now. They are just fine. You’re almost there! Sprint as fast as you can to the finish line and get your time in. You can do it!” 

She speeds up and BEATS me. Ungrateful back stabbing brat! 

I come in right after her and look out for my friends. We made it! We did it! We really did it! We ran and survived! 

Dee says, “You came in 9th in our age group.”

I laugh because I know there are only 10 racers in my category. I tell her in between breaths, “I’m gonna post that on Facebook. hahahahahaa. I just won’t tell them there were only ten people. hahah that’s funny shit!”

So as soon as I can breath without medical assistance I post:

“I got 9th place, bitches!”


D: Out of ten?

ME: (joking) Yes! I beat out the 80 yr old with emphysema.

Mrs. Ess:  
Norma, our whole family is here at soccer laughing at this post, too funny.
ME: Mrs. Ess I wasn’t kidding! It was my only goal this year! He beat me last year and I wanted to show him who was boss this time around!
G.I. Joe: Norma I heard the only reason the 80yr old lost was because his feet got tangled up in his oxygen tubing, and he took a nasty spill just shy of the finish line. But hey you’re right a win is a win.
ME: Don’t take my glory, Joe!! It takes talent to trip an old person, make it look like an accident and keep on running!
D: Was this the pogo stick division?
hahahahaah I LOVE my friends. They crack me up!
But back to me: I came in 32nd over all out of 39, I think?  9th place in my age group (out of 10) my time was 38:26:21

And while I realize that’s nothing to brag about? I am posting my results for two reasons.

1. This year my goal was just to survive this thing. But my goal for next year is to actually RUN the whole race therefore maybe even beating  my time.

 WHAT?? NO I’m serious. Don’t look at me like that! I really AM this year. I swear! *cough *cough*

2. but for now I’m just proud of myself that I didn’t chicken out and hide in the restroom like I seriously considered doing right before the race when I started hyperventilating and panicking that I would not be able to finish it and I’d have to be carried down by the fire department that is on stand by for morons like me that decide to run a race even though we haven’t done one ounce of exercise for over two years. 

Anyways, goals or no goals I can at least say I ran it this year. And maybe my sister and I have a new sisterly tradition. I should have invited her before! Because… I mean helloooo! The best part of this whole day? Celebrating with her over a few glasses… errr… ok ok bottles of champagne. (Why hadn’t I ever thought of that before?) 

Yummy Cuvee is my favorite but this bottle of Vueve Clicquot Brut was off the hizzy!

Yummy Cuvee is my favorite but this bottle of Vueve Clicquot Brut was off the hizzy!

OK ..so back to creating and achieving goals.

Start exercising. Stay fit. Operation Donut back into effect full force!

I want to be able to say that I beat my time from this year AND that I RAN THE WHOLE THING. And sure, I won’t get first place or anything but I will at least beat out my time! Also, hopefully I’ll lose a few more pounds.  

*Oh great… Goal setting is always a most definite way to sabotage myself. I can already feel it. 

Can somebody pass me a Twinkie please? Thanks!

click here to read my diet blogs:

Operation Donut Day One

Operation Donut Day Two

Operation Donut Day Three

Operation Donut Day Four

Baked Potato=OUT

Small Success


(not so) Funny Friday

I got virutally zero sleep last night. Well, actually the past few weeks probably. I just can’t sleep. Don’t ask why. It’s a bunch of different reasons, really. Part of it is that my body hurts so bad right now that it feels like I just got in a fight with Chuck Norris and lost. Yeah, yeah, I know. What did I expect? He’s a bad mothafacka….



  Anyways… everything has taken it’s toll and I’m totally on “grumpy bitch mode!”

 HOWEVER.. since I promised you a funny Friday I”ve been  trying to think of something funny to say or a funny picture to post but my mind is blank. It’s like jello actually… But as I was searching my photo archive I came accross two not-so-funny pictures but they represent the two things that will probably make my day a little brighter. So here they are:

1. CARBS….



2. and BEER…… (liquid carbs)

this was our makeshift ice chest last winter during a girls weekend at the cabin

this was our makeshift ice chest last winter during a girls weekend at the cabin


Can somebody help a sistah out?

Funny Friday!

For those of you who’s family and friends know about your blogging habits, do you feel like you’re treated different because of it? I do. I think I’ve talked about this before a year or two ago but it still makes me laugh.

For example, I’ll be having brunch with my buds Dee and Goocher and something freaken HILARIOUS will happen where champagne milk is running out our noses and one of them will say, “You’re gonna blog about this aren’t you?”

Or one of them will “burn” me (diss me? hmm… what is the hip word these days?) Anyways… and the other will say, “OOOOOH, Norms, you need to blog about this and put her on blast”

To which of course first I’ll reply, “REALLY? We’re not to old to say ‘put her on blast’ and are people even really still saying that?”

But of course that’s besides the point.

Then I kindly remind them that I NEVER blog about negative stuff.

Say, for example that I ask Mr. Twinkie if he thinks I’ve lost weight. And what if he says, “Oh yeah, babe. You’ve lost a lot of weight. I mean for a while there your tummy was HUGE! It was bigger than your boobs!”

And what if I glared at him and said, “WOW! Did you really just say that?”

To which of course (hypothetically speaking of course because if this actually happened I would NOT blog about it) he would quickly try to dig his way out by saying, “JUST KIDDING BABE!! You know I’m playing.”

To which I would answer, “I know you are honey,” then I’d quickly add exlax to his dinner while he wasn’t looking.

Well, if all of that happened I would NOT blog about it because:

1. it would probably paint Mr. Twinkie as an insensitive bastard which he is sooo totally not but nobody would know this if they didn’t know him in real life.

2. it would probably also paint me in a negative light because HELLO STUPID???? Don’t ask if you don’t want to know. I mean, duh! You never ask, “do I look fat in these pants” then get mad because you got an honest answer, right?

Anyways, my point is I’m not a very “open” blogger in the sense that if I get in an arguement with somebody or if something bothers me I’m not gonna “put it on blast” all over the world wide web.

I think some things should stay private.

Of course this might also have something to do with the fact that my family and friends read this blog and I would never write something that I might regret later. Yah know?

BUT having said that… (and back to my original point) my life is a blog.

As in.. something will happen and I will automatically think of ways I could write about it where it might be interesting to my readers. Maybe even funny. A lot of times I’ll realize that it’s one of those things where you just “had to be there” and it doesn’t really translate well into writing. So I move on to something else.

Other times? I find that I just don’t have anything interesting to say.

Which is when I realize that I’m living with my eyes shut. And I remind myself to open them and actually “experience” living. If not for peace of mind then at least for my blog. Because that’s what’s important, right? (insert sarcasm here) ..


Hmm…. I guess this blog entry turned out NOT being all that funny. HU? Oh well! I’ll try again next Friday!

Read The Sign(s)

I don’t believe in fate. Well, I think I don’t.

Maybe I do. Just a little.

But I definitely don’t rely on it. Well, at least not most of the time. Only sometimes. – I guess what I mean is I don’t believe things happen because they are “supposed” to happen. But I do believe that you can learn from them.

Sometimes. Other times there’s really nothing to learn other than life just sucks sometimes so get over it and move on.

Ok so I admit.. I don’t really know WHAT I think. What I do know is this.

If a car full of nuns with a priest driving cuts you off at first you should do the obvious. Get pissed off. It’s ok. Don’t feel guilty. It’s a normal reaction.

 I know I probably would.

I mean, I’m usually pretty damned friendly but I’m only human (no really it’s true!) and I have my moments of insane rage. Sometimes it just can’t be helped. Other times of course it’s unfounded and dumb and I need to get over myself.


So anyways, flip them off. Then cuss them out. But then… after you realize he’s still gonna go 15 miles an hour in front of you in a 35 mile an hour zone NO MATTER WHAT YOU YELL AT HIM and no matter what gestures you make with your hand or otherwise… I suggest you take a deep breath and think to yourself, “RELAX! Just reeeeeelaaaaax. Maybe this priest cutting you off is saving you from a car accident you might have been involved in up ahead. So take a chill pill and go with it.”

And you really should. I know I do. Because you know, this whole fate thing just helps keep my sanity. Plus sometimes you just can’t change the stupidity around you. You can only change your reaction to it.

And besides, maybe things DO happen for a reason. And who do I think I am to think otherwise? Sometimes… you just gotta read the signs when they are right in front of you.


“What does this all mean, in the grand scheme of things?” you might be asking yourself. Well, uh… ummmm… I uh…… I don’t know.

Wait, maybe I do know! The answer is quite simple! Twinkie had WAY TOO MUCH COFEE TODAY.

PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE SEASON makes Twinkie very happy!

PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE SEASON makes Twinkie very happy!

Childhood Memories

“Hey you should blog about the time we put on that show for the neighborhood kids, remember?” Dee said.

“OH I KNOW! That’d be a good one, hu?” I replied. “But do me a favor, email YOUR VERSION OF EVENTS so I can compare them to mine.”

So she did.

And she did such a great job that there is no way I could change it ONE LITTLE BIT. So here it is. The RED writing is my commentary. The rest is ALL DEE ——

Well, this is how I remember it. We were the bad asses on the block…and all of those little punks wanted to be just like us! No, really. I’m being serious. (CLEARLY SHE’S SERIOUSLY DELIRIOUS)

So…when we proposed we were going to present a play they came a running with money in hand. As I recall it, you did a dance scene with some goofy/retarded skirt. (WHAT??? I LOVED THAT SKIRT!!!! IN FACT IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY IT LOOKED A LITTLE SOMETHING LIKE THIS. DON’T FORGET AT THIS POINT I’D JUST MOVED HERE FROM MEXICO.)


It was longer than you…so there you were…holding the bottom of both sides with your arms stretched out like you were about to take off flying or something. (DEAR GOD, MAKE ME A BIRD.. SO I CAN FLY FAR FAR AWAY)


 I’m cracking up right now…cuz I’m getting a visual. I think we TRIED to impress the HUGE crowd with some magic tricks. Clearly, there was no freakin’ magic. I think we started getting booed at this point. (THEY JUST DIDN’T RECOGNIZE REAL TALENT.. I TELL YAH!)


 If we had given them some tomatoes, I’m pretty sure they would have used them…or heck, they would have taken them home and at least have gotten something with the big money they spent to watch us! We tried to recover from it and told some jokes. Nobody laughed, but I’m heck a laughing right now! I’m rolling. We sucked bad! You tried to save it with singing. It was obvious you were winging it. Sorry Norms…that sucked too. (HA… DON’T HOLD BACK GIRL, TELL ME HOW YOU REALLY FEEL!)

THEN the worst thing imaginable happened. They asked for their pennies back! (IT WASN’T PENNIES IT WAS NICKLES)

We thought we were savvy entreprenuers headed to the big time…all the way to the top. We were gonna be rich, rich I say! But there we were…humiliated, handing our audience of five people their money back. We almost were 25 cents richer! Hey! Don’t knock that quarter, cuz that was a lot of darned money back then. We could have easily bought ourselves tons of gum and candy. (THIS IS WHERE I HAVE TO LAUGH BECAUSE THAT’S WHEN YOU KNOW YOU’RE OLD. WE USED TO RUN OUR ASSES TO THE STORE WITH ONE QUARTER TO SPLIT BETWEEN THE THREE OF US, ME, DORP AND GOOCHER..AND IT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH.)

 Those little bastards took their money back and then went to Eloy’s Market and spent it. THEN they came back and stood in the alley right outside your fence and licked on those freakin’ lolly pops. Jerks! (YES… BUT THEN WE RENTED OUT OUR BIKES AND CHARGED THEM A NICKLE TO TAKE IT FOR A RIDE DOWN THE ALLEY AND BACK SO WE RECOUPERATED SOME OF OUR MONEY BACK)

That’s when I decided I was not cut out to be a movie star. As a matter of fact, I think we’re infamous enough for E! to do a documentary about us. Hey, we’re MORE interesting than Paris Hilton or lame Nichole Richie. Heck, we done more outrageous and/or exciting things than they have…and we have brains!! (WE ACTUALLY DO .. OUTRAGEOUS/EXCITING THINGS ALL THE TIME.. NOT TOO SURE ABOUT HAVING THE BRAINS THING THOUGH!)

I think people would watch. They love to see failure when it’s not them. Oh…and I don’t want to forget to mention that one of those audience members was your longtime Crush… Remember! HA! Hilarious! (HMMM MAYBE THAT’S WHY THINGS DIDN’T WORK OUT BETWEEN US. NAH, ACTUALLY THE FACT THAT I DIDN’T GROW BOOBS TILL MY SECOND CHILD WAS BORN WAS PROBABLY THE REAL REASON. I REMEMBER IN THE THIRD GRADE CATCHING HIM BEHIND THE CLASSROOM WITH THE NEW GIRL WHO HAPPENED TO BE “SHOWING HIM” HER “NEW TRAINING BRA” … SLUT.)

Oh, my God…this is so funny…I can’t stop laughing…what the heck were we thinking…this is what happens when parents don’t have money to buy us Nintendo (the IT game back then)…kids end up using their own imagination. What a waste! D. (I WOULDN’T TRADE ANY OF IT FOR THE WORLD. GOOD TIMES!)


I Remember When….

I remember when we still lived in Mexico we visited my gramma at the “rancho” on the outskirts of Guadalajara, Jalisco.

This is me and my sister, Rocio. Rocio cooked, cleaned and changed diapers at that age while my mom and dad worked in the grape vineyards to raise money to come back to Mexico and bring us to the states with them.

This is me and my sister, Rocio. Rocio cooked, cleaned and changed diapers at that age while my mom and dad worked in the grape vineyards to raise money to come back to Mexico and bring us to the states with them.

Her tiny shack had dirt floors, no electricity and no plumbing so in the middle of the night if you had to go pee you had to go outside.

Well, in case you don’t know…. in the “rancho” you ate what you grew and she just happened to have pigs. At night my imagination ran wild and I would freak myself out listening to their grunting in the dark until in my very imaginitive mind I thought these pigs were actually cucuys (*monsters!)

So my sister, who is one year older than me but I’m sure was ten times more powerful would go with me, to protect me from the “cucuys”.

I remember my first day of school in America. I was in the 3rd grade. I didn’t know any English.

Luckily we moved to a small agricultural community where a lot of migrant Hispanic families lived, so the teacher’s aides all knew Spanish.

Well, after school I started walking home only to realize I forgot the name of the street I had to take to get home.

I walked down one street.

Nothing looked familiar.

I came back, took another street.

That one also didn’t look familiar so I came back and waited by the stop sign hoping to recognize something or somebody that would get me back home.

A lady stopped and looked at me with concern.

 “Are you lost?” she asked me in Spanish.

I said, “Yes.”

She said, “What street are you looking for?”

I said I didn’t know.

 So she asked me my name.

I told her.

She asked me for my mom’s name.

I told her.

Her eyes lit up and said, “OH You guys are the family staying with Victoria (insert last name here)”

Thank GOD for small, close knit towns!

She knew my Aunt Victoria. AND she knew that her relatives from Mexico had recently moved in with her. AND she knew my mom, because a friend of hers worked with her in the vineyards.

She walked me home.

I remember in the 4rd grade I caught my “boyfriend” Jr. behind the building with this girl named Reah. She was new in town and blonde and beautiful. And she was starting to develop boobies.

Unfortunately, I’m still waiting to develop mine… anyways… I told him he shouldn’t be back there with her and she said, “Go away and leave us alone.”

He laughed.

My heart broke.

I remember in Jr High my friend James brought a plastic bag full of flour. But he told everybody it was cocaine. He got sent to the principals office after showing it off one too many times behind the teachers back. He was such a ham and was always pulling crazy stunts like that.

 Anybody else have favorite or memorable moments from their childhood they’d like to share?

The Ya Ya’s

YES I know this ages me when I call what my friends and I have The YaYa Sisterhood. I don’t care. It’s really the only way to describe it. That movie describes our relationship so perfectly, including the madness and the “interventions.”


I mean, who else do you know that’s been best friends since the third grade? Who else has gone through every “first” together? Our kids have known each other since they were newborns.

Our girls are all grown up

Our girls are all grown up

YES! We’ve saw each other through labor but that’s not all. We’ve been there for each other’s first boyfriends, first kisses, first kids, first marriages, first divorce, first big fight, first realization that we have been friends for so long that now we’re bound to each other for life, because we all know WAY TOO MUCH about each to ever become enemies. hahaha.

The Three Amigas

The Three Amigas

I mean really biotch! You REALLY want all your deep dark secrets “out there?” Then you’re bound to me for life!

Well, at least that’s what Goocher keeps reminding us anyways. I don’t ever plan on finding out.

The weird part is? How different we are.

Dee is a workaholic. I love to work but don’t LIVE to work. Goocher? Does she even have a job??? *scratches her head and tries to remember

She’s a teacher. I’m not. Neither is Goocher.. actually I think Goocher teaches inmates how to survive once they get out jail. OK so yeah, Goocher DOES have a job. She counsels ex inmates. Me? Don’t get me near a felon.

I haven’t decided what I would do if I had to work around felons. But I think I’d cry! Or punch him in the nose. And RUN. Then cry.

 She’s a mom of three. I got her beat there! I have four children! Five if you count my husband! *wink*

Goocher is a mom of three also. Ok.. that one is a wash.

Dee is also a stepmom of two.

And here’s where it gets better! Dee’s an ASB Director. A Head Cross Country Coach. A Head Track Coach. She is driven and always on the go. She just finished her Masters of Education in Curriculum and Instruction. She is a work out queen. No really? Have you SEEN her body? Looks better than Demi Moore’s and she didn’t have to pay thousands of dollars for it.


You’ve seen MY body. Nowhere close to looking like that! LOL And Goocher? Well…. let’s just say she’s thick but “buffed.”

 I guess what I’m trying to say is, Dee is probably the more sophisticated? than the rest of us Ya Ya’s?

 I say sophisticated with a little apprehension because “on paper?” YES on paper… she is the epitomy of sophistication and education.

But in real life? Well… in real life she’s the girl that takes the CHILE out of her COACH PURSE to eat with her ITALIAN food at a girls night out.

don vinos2

Gawdddd I love my friends! You can take the girl out of the McFarland ghetto but you can’t take the McFarland ghetto out of the girl!

Don’t hate me Dee… you know I got nothin’ but love for my Ya Ya!