Do You Have Any Grey Poupon?

It's a rainy dreary day here in the Austin area, and it has inspired me to write about a subject that I truly love. It's something we all do, but most are either too ashamed or too oblivious to realize it. Of course, I am talking about the much loved and much dreaded emotional eating. It's used in all occasions. I'm bored... give me a fruit snack pack. I'm upset... let's go for the super-size meal. I'm excited... I think there are some chocolate chips in the baking cupboard.

So just for kicks giggles, here are some of my top emotionally charged foods:

- The taco bell 'supreme' chalupa... sour cream, ground meat, cheese, and a fatty shell. could I ask for more, I don't think so. Once my sister asked where in all of Lubbock would I like to go for her to give me a free dinner, and no lie, I chose taco bell. viva la creama!

- Puffed Cheeto's... there has been a long debate in the world about which is better, crunchy or puffed cheeto's. some people say crunchy, but I must say that you are just plain wrong. That puffy-ness is like the icing on the cake.

- Purple Skittle's... I used to work in a glorious establishment that had a free-for-all, junk-filled snack room. I would spend hours just picking out the purple skittle's. Now I'm not a 'grape' fan, but there is something with those things that is truly divine. By the way, more than a bag of any color skittle's will give you a nasty stomach ache.

- The Big Mac... I know the secret sauce isn't really a secret anymore. But that burger has something so intriguing and special that it keeps me dreaming about it year after year. I even had it for my last 'single girl' meal before the wedding!

Now, I don't eat these things all that often. Mostly because I know the staggering fat content and calories that are in these, but nothing can be more comforting than these. I would love to here what your comfort foods are!

Becoming Mrs. Morris

I've always been known as Mary Krile
- - - Now I'll have a new last name that will take some getting used to. It might sound weird, but it's like changing your whole identity by just changing your last name.

I've lived in Lubbock for most of my life
- - - Now I am moving to Georgetown. It's a suburb just North of Austin. I love the area, but I hate having to be far from my family.

I've enjoyed the whole summer without a job
- - - Now I am trying to find a job in Austin. I say trying because I'm not having much luck at all. Who knew a Biology degree wasn't the best choice?

I've spent many a weeknight by myself.
- - - Now I'll have a new husband to hang out with. There is so many things that I can't wait to do and I'll have my best friend by my side.

Sure some of these things seem little and not that big of a deal, but no one really tells you about what a change it is to get married. It's a lot of little things that you don't realize until the end. I'm more organized, more stressed, happier, and busy than I've ever been before. So much will change in just a month:

I'll be married.
Elizabeth Trout will be in Dallas.
Liz will be anywhere across the States for a year.
My Dad will still have a broken ankle.
I hope I have a new job.

I just have to keep reminding my self.... Change is a good thing!
So here's to change and the fact that the world keeps spinning along.

*T*R*I*S*T*A*N*

The Stat's: big brown eyes, vel-crow curly black hair, comes up about waist high on me, favorite color is green, african american, four years old, loves to dance, can sing all of the vegitales theme song, and has an obsession with eating chocolate. This is Tristan. We first met when he was one and have grown up together ever since. I've seen first steps, first words, and even first successful potty trips! Tristan was adopted by a woman at my work and her husband (both being white). He comes to work with us every day. I know it's kind of an odd work place! I love tristan so much that I thought I would share a few of his "kids say the darndest things".

- Tristan loves "boo-boo's". We practice the "kiss it to make it better" practice at work to try and conserve band-aids. He'll spend minutes inspecting my hands just to spot something that looks like a scratch so that he can quickly make it feel better. One day when my faces complexion wasn't the clearest, He pointed at a red bump on my chin.
T: "Do you have a boo-boo?" (getting ready to kiss my chin)
M: "hmm... No, that's called a pimple" (trying not to be embarrassed that he just pointed out a zit)
T: "A pimmppeeeel?" (struggling with the new word)
M: "Yes, a pimple"
T: (looking at me for awhile contemplating) "Mary, you have pimples ALL OVER your face!"

- Of course, as a child we have no real concept of race. There is no difference between people when there's a difference in color. He has no way of knowing that he has a blended family by him being black in a white family. One day he was sitting in my lap and we were tracing our hands on paper.
T: (struggling to keep the pen close to my fingers as he traced around them) "I have dark skin" (he said proudly)
(he frowned at my hand on the paper) "You have white skin"
M: (I was a little at a loss for what to say since he's never noticed the difference before. He was looking at me like something had to be wrong for us to be different colors) "Yes, your dark and I'm white. It's just the color of our skin. People have all different colors of skin." (whew, that was fairly well put)
T: (his face lit up like a light bulb) "So there's green skin!"
M: "oh no Tristan, not every color is a skin color"
He was thoroughly disappointed and upset that there were no orange and green people. Afterall, those are his favorite colors!

- While Tristan is so young and is around girls most of the time, we struggle at the office to keep Tristan "man-ly". It took us a week to convince him that orange was a better favorite color than pink. I had painted my nails, and Tristan was admirering the dark red color.
T: "What's that?" (pointing to my colored nails)
M: "I painted my nails. Do you like them?"
T: "YES, can I paint my nails?!?"
M: (opps, this is not good) "ummm... no, your a boy."
T: "I'm a booooyyyyyy, so I can't paint my nails? Why, not?"
M: "Well... See, girls paint there nails for boys.... and boys (struggling to think of something) cut their hair for girls!"
T: (he examines my face as he thinks about this)
M: "remember, you're hair is short cause you just cut it awhile back."
T: (He tries to run his fingers through my long hair) "yeah, I did...... So I can't paint my nails, but I can cut my hair?"
M: "Yep! And I can paint my nails, but I let my hair grow out long."

So don't forget to paint your nails girls, and boys get your hair cut for the girls!