Nevergirl's

I think it’s high time I admit I know nothing about

- buying furniture. I don’t know how to tell which ones are durable; I just point to the cute ones.

- how the stock market works. Everything frazzles me, starting with the terminology.

- hotwiring cars or picking locks, but I’d like to learn both just in case I may someday end up leading a life of crime.

- back acne treatment. But no, I don’t have acne on my back or anywhere else for that matter. I just think it would be cool to be a master on anything and everything.

- cooking, but I feel a strong affinity towards beef, salt, and lemon.

- photography. What I know about cameras and picture-taking can be summed up in one word: smile.

Do you think you’re too fat? I do. Everyone tells me it’s all in my head, that I’m not fat at all. But this is not true.

I am fat. I know how much I weigh, I know how much I wished I weigh. We’ve a weighing scale near the kitchen, and I weigh myself after mealtimes because yes, I’m masochistic like that.

I don’t know what it is with girls and weight but I keep obsessing about mine. Also, I keep thinking I should keep a stack of weight loss supplements around so I don’t grow to blimp size like I once did. It doesn’t help that I have the appetite of a construction worker, and that I am almost always munching on something. I munch before breakfast; I munch before lunch; I munch in the afternoons while I play with the kids. I’m a muncher extraordinaire. It doesn’t show on my face but it shows in my belly, where it hurts the most. So yes, I eat and eat and then I lament how fat I’ve become. I do not see this changing any time soon, however. I know I can change things – go to the gym, watch what I eat, and all that jazz – but I haven’t done it and I don’t think I will anytime soon. It’s too tough. Just thinking about exercise wears me out. I’m blabbering. I’ll go nap now. Bye.

The husband caught me looking up www.prenatalvitamins.net and swatted me. “It’s high time you stop obsessing over prenatal vitamins. You’re not pregnant,” he said.

“Aren’t I?”

I swear the look on his face as he gaped at me was pure golden, just golden. But of course I told him I was joking, to save him the coronary. I’m not sure if all men react to being told he will be a father again the same way the husband does. But, I got to tell you, that reaction was simply too cute for me to not to say the same thing again. Hahaha!

I guess the problem with being hooked to the Internet lifestyle is that while it’s true you can go anywhere so long as you have your laptop in tow, you really don’t. First, you spend your time worrying if the place you’re going to has Wifi. You find out it does, after a browse. Next, you worry about the connection speed. Is it fast enough? Turtle-slow? Unless you go check it out yourself, there’s just no way to know. So, you agonize over your choices (to go or not to go?) and in between decisions and near-decisions, you trawl the web endlessly for all sorts of bric-a-brac, including mesothelioma treatments and who Simon Cowell last snapped at.

That, dear friends, is the problem with having a laptop for a child. No matter how much you say you can travel anywhere just so long as it has Wifi, you’re so convinced your laptop needs you that you never do!