Archive for March, 2011

I Like Life!

One of the things that is happening to me strikes me as very peculiar. I’m finding that I really like life.  Oh, not that I was a gloomy Scroogey person, but I wasn’t exactly Suzy Sunshine either. But I find myself walking down the hall grinning like a Cheshire cat at anyone who looks my way. And I find myself going out with my husband and trying new things. And no panic or anxiety attacks!  Woot!

So in a spirit of loving life, I figured I’d share my favourite song about that very thing:

I like life
Life likes me
Life and I fairly fully agree
Life is fine
Life is good
‘Specially mine, which is just as it should be
I like pouring the wine and why not?
Life’s a pleasure that I deny not! 
I like life,
Here and now,
Life and I made a mutual vow
‘Til I die
Life and I
We’ll both try to be better somehow
And if life were a woman
She would be my life.
Because I like life! 
I like life
Life likes me
I make life a perpetual spree
Eating food, drinking wine
Thinking who’d like the privilege to dine me
I like drinking the drink I’m drinking
And I like thinking the thoughts I’m thinking! 
I like songs
I like dance
I hear music and I’m in a trance
Chances are we shall get up and prance
Where there’s music and laughter
Happiness is rife
Because I like life!
Drinking life
That’s the thing
Makes a man want to suddenly sing
Sing and dance
And perchance
Seeing life from a different stance
When you learn how to live it
Life is free of strife
That is why I like life! 
That’s the secret of living
Any man can fly!
Because I like life! 

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I don’t tend to watch a lot of news. We don’t have cable at home, and I’ve usually got 50 thousand different things to do with my time once I get home from work. So I’m frequently out of the loop on a lot of things.

So apparently George Lopez called Kirstie Alley a pig.  If you’re fat, you get used to things like that. However, it does not mean that it’s acceptable.

I’ll never forget one day when I was living in Salt Lake City. I worked at the University of Utah, and was crossing the street to go from employee parking to my building. A car full of boys sped up and raced dangerously close to me as I was in the crosswalk, and hollered “fat bitch” at me out of their windows.  What’s sad is that I was in a losing cycle at the time, and feeling comparatively cute. What’s sad is that they knew nothing about me beyond the fact that I weighed more than their apparently acceptable weight limits, and based on that decided that it was within their rights to publicly humiliate and shame me. What’s sad is that they showed themselves to be ugly and unkind people to someone who was predisposed to think they were probably fairly nice guys.

So I’m with Richard Simmons on this one.  http://www.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/03/29/simmons.weight.jokes/index.html?hpt=C2#

I’m also really disgusted by a lot of the comments to Simmons’s commentary.  Because I have control over what I put in my mouth and how much exercise I do, that gives others the right and privilege to make fun of me if I don’t meet their standards?

I’m not a big Kirstie Alley fan. I don’t care for her sense of humour, and haven’t enjoyed any of the shows I’ve watched her in.  But I will proudly stand up next to her and proclaim her right to go through life without being mocked and tormented because of her weight. If it were easy for people to control weight, people wouldn’t be fat if they didn’t want to be, and there would be no smokers who were unsuccessful in their attempts to quit smoking if that were easy. I know how hard it is for me to cope with my own problems, and I hope I would be the last to accuse someone else for their difficulties and their problems.

I see that Lopez apologized, and I’m glad. I have as much of a sense of humour as anyone, but I don’t find pointing fingers at others pain amusing.

Even amongst fat people, there is plenty of blaming going on. If someone is fatter than you are, it can make you feel smugly superior. If someone was formerly fat but is losing, it can make you feel defensive. If you lose weight “the natural way,” solely with diet and exercise, you might feel superior to someone who had weight loss surgery.

There are so many people looking down on fat people, and it’s just sad. No one is a better person or a worse person solely by virtue of how much he/she weighs. (Or how tall or short he/she is, or whether he/she smokes, etc.) My point is, we’re all in this world together. It’d be nice if we spent as much time building people up as we do tearing them down.

I’m fat, I admit it, not that I could disguise it. I eat too much. I exercise too little. But I do eat much less than I did even four months ago; I weigh significantly less than I did four months ago; I exercise more than I did four months ago. I care about what I look like. I care about what kind of a person I am. And if you look at me and see nothing but my weight and decide, based on that sole factor, that I’m a bitch or am ugly or lazy or stupid, well, I feel sorry for you.  But hey–don’t bother to share your opinion of me, because what you think of me is none of my business.

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Good Morning!

I have a new book review up over at Quirky Girls Read–go check it out and let me know what you think.

Also, the Quirky Girls are all reading Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet this month. I’ll be reviewing it here on this blog, and we’ll have a live chat later on in April. We’d love for you to join us.  I’ll provide the chat details as we get a little closer to the time.  I will tell you that I’m about a third of the way through the book, and it is amazing. If you have not yet read it, give it a try. I think you’ll enjoy it.

And lastly I’m still working hard on the memoirs I’m writing, so please forgive my sporadic posting. I have to get this finished, and it’s just killing me!!

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Shoes, Glorious Shoes!

I’ve kind of been binging on shoes lately.

Well, that might be a wee bit of an understatement.  It started with the coupon I got from DSW.  I took it to the clearance section and found a darling pair of patterned flats for about $25 after the coupon.

Then it was the brown booties I found online on clearance, followed shortly thereafter by a pair of black booties.

And then a pair of plaid knee high rain boots.

And shortly after those, it was the amazingly quirky pair of cowboy bootie style rain boots.

Then I had another coupon from DSW, along with a coupon for double points, which led to a pair of floral Liz Claiborne pumps.

And finally this morning, when I stopped at Marsh.alls on the way to work, and found a pair of dark purple Kenneth Cole leather pumps for $20. Yes, you read that right, $20. Read it and weep!

I’m going to stay away from shoe stores for a while. I don’t think Joe would be too happy if I were to keep buying shoes right now. Can I hold out until summer? I’ll be like the little engine that could: I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

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It worked!

My apologies for the ugly anger-filled post yesterday.  But it worked!  I woke up this morning feeling so much better, now that I allowed myself to express how I felt and got it out of my system.

Today was a great day.  I was planning to wear a green wig to work, but decided it will have to wait until next year, when I’m hoping to be a lot smaller.  I took cookies to work, and cards for some of my friends, and two uber cute shamrock hat thingies for Elaine & Jan. They sportingly put them on for a minute, so everyone could get a good laugh.  Have I mentioned lately how much I love my team?

And Elaine gave me a really challenging assignment to work on, so I spent the day delving through procedures manuals trying to find the information I needed.  It was a very productive day.  Have I mentioned lately how much I love my job? Because I do. I enjoyed being in Quality Assurance, while I was there. But I’m finding Operational Controls to be just fantastic. I feel very blessed.

And Sarah-bear and I had a nice lunch together and then got to sit out on the patio for a while. It was a beautiful, beautiful day. Have I mentioned how much I love Sarah-bear? Because I do.

And Elle sent me a copy of the latest Half-Blood Prince trailer, and it just totally absolutely rocks.  I’m going to post it, but since I don’t want to spoil anyone who might be trying to avoid such things, I’ll post it after the break. Okay? Okay.  And in case I haven’t mentioned it lately, I love Elle and her wicked sense of humour.


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To My BFF:

Dear BFF (and I hope you know just how deeply sarcastic my voice sounds when I call you that),

When we first met, I thought you were a nice person who was just down on her luck. I sympathized with you.  I gave you food for your family.  I treated you to a couple of shopping trips where I got you things like headbands and junk jewelry, and took you out to eat, and took you to movies with me. I thought you were a friend.

And then you and your husband split up, and you started dating someone else. I’ll confess I was more than a little shocked at how quickly you moved in with him despite all the blather you were spouting off about how you were going to protect your child from getting attached to men who turn out to be dick-heads. But okay, whatever, you were my friend, and when you got engaged and asked me to be your matron of honour, I was, well, honoured.  And I worked really hard trying to help you plan your wedding. 

Then I had to have surgery, and I was off work for three months. And you didn’t call me. You didn’t e-mail me. You didn’t visit except I think once when you happened to be in the neighbourhood, and then your fiance sat in the car with the engine running. So obviously I was very unimportant in the scheme of things. I was pissed off, I’ll admit it.  But when I came back to work you were full of excuses as to why you hadn’t bothered to contact me, and I decided to believe them as much as I could, even though I thought you were full of shit. Which, by the way, you were.

And I hosted a bridal shower for you. And got you gifts. And you never wrote me a thank-you note.

And I hosted another bridal shower for you at work. And you never wrote me a thank-you note.

And I hosted your bachelorette party, to which you were more than an hour late. And you never wrote me a thank-you note.

And I bought a dress that had to be special ordered, and when it arrived it didn’t fit me.  I asked you repeatedly what you wanted me to do–did you want me to just buy another dress knowing it wouldn’t be the same colours? Did you want me to drop out of your wedding party? And you ignored me.  Fortunately I lucked out and managed to swap it for another dress they had in the shop that was really close to the correct colour, just a shade or two darker. And all was sort of well.

And my husband and I took time off work, and we drove out to your destination wedding. And you pretty much ignored me most of the time. And when I was asked about giving the speech at the wedding supper, you informed the person who asked that your “best friend” was going to give the speech.  And that really pissed me off. Not because I necessarily wanted to give a speech–although I’ll tell you here and now that I’d have given a helluva better one than your “best friend”–but because you should have asked your “best friend” to be your maid of honour and left me out of the whole damned thing altogether.

When my husband and I got married, I had a friend who kindly made my wedding dress for me; I took one day off work; we eloped and went to a justice of the peace; and we spent our wedding night in a hotel that was offering a romantic special. I basically spent $250 on my wedding.

I spent about $350 on your first bridal shower; another $70 on your second bridal shower; about $200 on your bachelorette party; about $250 for my dress plus another $100 in alterations; $200 or so in gifts, including a nice chunk of cash we gave for the actual wedding gift, which, yes, you guessed it, you never sent me an effing thank-you note; and when you count in the gasoline, wear and tear on our car, 3 nights in a hotel room; I probably dropped about $2000 or more on your wedding.

Then we got back to work and by then you had quit talking to me unless you needed something. And that was fine with me, because I was done with your bull.  You’re always moaning and complaining about all the drama in your life. And when there isn’t any drama, you create it.  And you use people until they realize how much they’re being used, and when they decide to quit being your tool, you dump them.

I know you don’t read my blog, and I don’t care if you do read this. I just want to get you out of my life, and I think by writing this out, it may help get some of my anger out in a relatively safe fashion. I know you pretty well, and on the very slim chance you are reading this, you’ll decide I’m totally full of crap and I’m a huge bitch and you’re the poor put-upon person who had to put up with such a back-stabbing two-faced evil hag. And if that’s what you think about me, well, bless you. I’m leaving your name out of this for a reason. But my real friends know exactly who I’m talking about.

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No Panic!

I don’t like being in crowds of people. I find it very stressful and panic-attack-inducing. So what happened Saturday is like a miracle.

I left the pedicure place feeling great, and wanted to go out with my husband, since he was leaving town the next day.  And I thought it’d be fun to do something different. I picked him up at home and started driving toward Dallas. When he asked me where we were going, I said I had no idea. So my husband directed me to the Dallas House of Blues.  We found out John Oliver was going to be there that evening, and bought tickets. Then we meandered over to Hard Rock Cafe for a really delicious meal.

There weren’t crowds of people, but there were enough there that I would normally feel less than comfortable.  But this time I was just calm and happy, enjoying the time with my husband, and laughing my butt off. John Oliver is hilarious, and if you get the opportunity to go see him, I really recommend it.

Anyway, it’s got me wondering whether I can actually start getting out more, going to concerts, going dancing, etc. I’m hoping!

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Today at work I was simultaneously wearing a pair of slightly too small underwear underneath a pair of quite too large jeans.  So while I was walking around my underwear would roll down totally off my butt and start heading as far down my legs as it possibly could. Perhaps, then, it’s a good thing that my pants were much too large, so no one could easily tell that I was having underwear problems.

I stopped on the way home to buy two more pairs of these jeans in the next two sizes. My boss swears the 18’s will fit, but I am a skeptic. I bought a pair of 18’s and a pair of 20’s (I hate trying on clothes).  If the 20’s end up being too big, I’ll just take them back and do a happy dance.

Now I don’t normally allow myself to buy clothes that are much too small, in the plans of getting into them.  I’m a clothes horse, and know that I will always be able to find cute clothes.  BUT: there is the cutest Rodarte dress at Target, and I bought one.  Because while it is true that I will always be able to find cute clothes, they won’t necessarily be $40 Rodarte dresses.  I bought the largest one, of course, but it’ll still likely take me a year to get into it. And that’s okay. Because it’s Rodarte. And it’s gorgeous.

Rodarte® for Target® Juniors Crepe Lace Print Dress - Oxford Tan/Black : Target

Changing the subject:  I have to be at work at 4 a.m. tomorrow, and one day next week. 4 frickin’ a.m., when daylight savings time just started and I’m already a zombie.  Yes, of course I get to leave as soon as my 8 hours are up, but still.  If I didn’t really love my job, I’d be complaining a whole lot more!  Fortunately, though, I have a great job and I love the people I get to work with.

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I got another fill on Monday, and it’s gotten me to a good level of restriction.  Normally during the week I drink a protein shake for breakfast, and don’t actually start eating until later in the day.

But also normally I have breakfast every Saturday morning with my family. It’s one of those things I look forward to.  So this morning we met up at my monster’s favourite breakfast place, and I ordered my now-usual breakfast. One egg, over hard; small grits; and wheat toast. See, I had to give up hard cooked scrambled eggs because they seem to always get stuck even pre-fill, but I had the fried egg last week and it went down fine.

Not so this week. I sort of forgot that I had that fill that has me really restricted in the morning. So I ate most of the egg and some grits, and then it happened. That horrible feeling that tells you something’s stuck. Gypsy grrl put it best–it feels like a rod in the middle of your chest. There’s no stabbing sensation, just that solid something.  I tried sipping a little water. I tried taking a teeny bite of well-chewed toast. Nothing worked.

So I got up and went into the bathroom, and threw up a little.  Gross, I know, but by the time I got back to the table I felt fine.

I still plan to meet my family every Saturday morning for breakfast, but now I’ll just drink some water or milk while I sit with them. No more food that early in the day.

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Praying for Japan

I was in an earthquake once, when I lived in Anaheim, California. It was a wee thing, over before I knew it had started.  I remember very calmly watching the waves on my waterbed, and thinking, “Gee, that must be an earthquake.” And then my roommate came running down the hall to make sure I was okay, which of course I was, and I asked her the stupidest question. “That was an earthquake, wasn’t it?”

I cannot imagine going through one as severe as that which hit Japan today. My heart and prayers go out to the people there.

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