I mentioned in my last post that I had told a lot of people "my plan." In fact, I don't know if I've ever spoken as recklessly as I have in the last week. Somehow, I have worked it into every conversation, posted it on facebook and, obviously, am blogging for the "world" to read. I'm used to saying things like "when I fit into the rest of my wardrobe..." or "I'm trying to eat better." Sometimes I'll publicly deliberate between a salad and a cheeseburger. I'll complain or commiserate with girlfriends and throw a number out there - "there's just this extra 20 pounds..." but this week has seen the new, honest, vulnerable (and reckless) Amy. "I'm going to lose 15 pounds in 2 months," I've heard myself blurt out to anyone within earshot. It's an approximation, but girlfriends, their husbands, family, and everyone on the internet is now privy to my struggle. The immediate follow-up question, I...
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Depp. Johnny Depp. I've been a fan since junior high. The posters on my wall of the unknown 21 Jumpstreet star made me weird then, but they laid a foundation for a teeny bit of relevance now. As long as Johnny makes movies, I'll have a dog in the fight.
That is how my husband justifies all of his toys (and buying Jack two of a toy so one can never be taken out of its packaging).
Yes, I do know Johnny Depp. Yes, I was in love with him from 21 Jump Street. I even sort of had a crush when he wore angora in Ed Wood. I just didn't realize he had achieved the Madonna one name status.