I don't generally post when I'm feeling happy, so...it's been awhile.
Moving on. I'm putting my celebrity sex list on the permanent internet. Maybe one of them will see it and call me.
In no particular order:
Robert Downey Jr,
Anderson Cooper
Johnny Depp
Alan Alda
Jude Law
Who's on your list?
30 Can Bite Me.
Today, while coloring my hair to get ready for my big Canada trip, I discovered that my roots are almost entirely gray. Seriously? I'm not a baby boomer! I'm the last of the Gen-X'ers! A few gray hairs would be fine, but y'all, I'm Betty Freakin' White. Emphasis on the white. The root touch up stuff might not cut it anymore. There are so many roots now that an entire bottle of color is going to be required. Am I too old now for pink streaks? For multiple ear piercings? OH MY GODS, am I going to have to give up flip-flops? Crap.
Other symptoms of old age:
The arthritis (YES, arthritis!!) in my wrists has gotten so bad that if I paint for a couple of hours, or write with a pen, the pain is so extreme that I have to wear non-flexible wrist braces and take heavy(ish) drugs to keep from weeping.
I think teenage boys have stupid hair.
The music of my adolescence is on the oldies station.
My favorite TV shows from high school and college are on Nick-at-Nite.
I like hanging out with my parents.
I take a multi-vitamin that doesn't look like a cartoon character.
I use anti-aging moisturizer.
Damn.
Other symptoms of old age:
The arthritis (YES, arthritis!!) in my wrists has gotten so bad that if I paint for a couple of hours, or write with a pen, the pain is so extreme that I have to wear non-flexible wrist braces and take heavy(ish) drugs to keep from weeping.
I think teenage boys have stupid hair.
The music of my adolescence is on the oldies station.
My favorite TV shows from high school and college are on Nick-at-Nite.
I like hanging out with my parents.
I take a multi-vitamin that doesn't look like a cartoon character.
I use anti-aging moisturizer.
Damn.
Meet Nancy Upton
She's the size 12 model who won American Apparel's "plus size" (XL) modeling contest. But they didn't like her, and so chose a non-winner instead. 'Cause they're jerkfaces. She also has a blog. Which is awesome.
Here, read this excerpt, and then go read the rest.
In case you don’t know her,
let me introduce you to the modern lady liberty:
The average American woman
makes less than 30 grand a year,
masturbates at least twice a week - at least! -
has a crush on George Cloony, Johnny Depp, or that guy from Mad Men,
believes in gay marriage and the right to choose what happens in their nuclear reactors,
and doesn’t believe in prayer to save us now.
And while we can say
that we love the size of our breasts
and that we are comfortable naked,
even with the lights on-
on any given day in the United States,
approximately half of the women are on a diet.
Here, read this excerpt, and then go read the rest.
In case you don’t know her,
let me introduce you to the modern lady liberty:
The average American woman
makes less than 30 grand a year,
masturbates at least twice a week - at least! -
has a crush on George Cloony, Johnny Depp, or that guy from Mad Men,
believes in gay marriage and the right to choose what happens in their nuclear reactors,
and doesn’t believe in prayer to save us now.
And while we can say
that we love the size of our breasts
and that we are comfortable naked,
even with the lights on-
on any given day in the United States,
approximately half of the women are on a diet.
Letters That Should Have Been Written, Episode 1
November 23, 1963
Dear Texas,
So, the President of the United States was assassinated on your watch yesterday. Not just any president either, a pretty good one! And while, we'd really like to just kick you out of the Union and be done with it, you have most of the oil, cattle and cotton. We like those things, so you get to stay.
However, you have to be punished for what really amounts to negligent homicide. Really, you didn't think to check for snipers in tall buildings?? Anyway, we've decided that an appropriate action is to pass a law saying that nobody born in, or claiming Texas as his/her home state can run for president. We wanted to make it FOREVER, but have decided to say 100 years. Surely you guys will have straightened up by then.
And yeah, we realize that Lyndon Johnson is from Texas, but he slipped in before we thought to write the law. Too late now...what's the worst that could happen?
Yours Sincerely,
The Members of Congress, The Supreme Court and the Pope, for good measure.
{{Appx. 18 months later, the office of the letter writer...
Aw crap, he did what? Vietnam? Who joins a land war in Asia? Crazy Texans. Thank goodness -that- won't happen again!}}
Dear Texas,
So, the President of the United States was assassinated on your watch yesterday. Not just any president either, a pretty good one! And while, we'd really like to just kick you out of the Union and be done with it, you have most of the oil, cattle and cotton. We like those things, so you get to stay.
However, you have to be punished for what really amounts to negligent homicide. Really, you didn't think to check for snipers in tall buildings?? Anyway, we've decided that an appropriate action is to pass a law saying that nobody born in, or claiming Texas as his/her home state can run for president. We wanted to make it FOREVER, but have decided to say 100 years. Surely you guys will have straightened up by then.
And yeah, we realize that Lyndon Johnson is from Texas, but he slipped in before we thought to write the law. Too late now...what's the worst that could happen?
Yours Sincerely,
The Members of Congress, The Supreme Court and the Pope, for good measure.
{{Appx. 18 months later, the office of the letter writer...
Aw crap, he did what? Vietnam? Who joins a land war in Asia? Crazy Texans. Thank goodness -that- won't happen again!}}
Freaky
A neighbor around the corner from us has this in her (his? I don't know) window.
You're looking at a baby doll-- dressed as a patriotic teddy bear, a gigantic "support our troops" sticker, a four of clubs with a picture of Elvis Presley on it, a parade flag and a greeting card with (I think) some sort of prayer or Bible verse on it.
Every few weeks the collection grows. It started out as just the creepy baby. Since I took the picture, it's expanded to include her front door as well, with a peeling flag sticker, and a badly tied, yellow-mylar ribbon that looks like it might have been rescued after a baby shower. Or from the dumpster.
Initially we assumed that she had a husband/son/brother/sister/daughter/lover/whatever in Iraq or somewhere, but that doesn't explain the Elvis card or the prayer thing. And why are these things in the window? Creeps me out. Especially the baby. I might have to put a call into Hoarders about this.
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| Apologies for the picture quality, it was taken sneakily, with my phone. |
Every few weeks the collection grows. It started out as just the creepy baby. Since I took the picture, it's expanded to include her front door as well, with a peeling flag sticker, and a badly tied, yellow-mylar ribbon that looks like it might have been rescued after a baby shower. Or from the dumpster.
Initially we assumed that she had a husband/son/brother/sister/daughter/lover/whatever in Iraq or somewhere, but that doesn't explain the Elvis card or the prayer thing. And why are these things in the window? Creeps me out. Especially the baby. I might have to put a call into Hoarders about this.
Up too Early for Anything Useful
A. Age: 30 (eeeek!) B. Bed size: Queen. I'd like a king, so that I can sleep diagonally without crowding Marlowe.
C. Chore that you hate: Laundry. I wouldn't hate it if we had a washer/dryer in the house though.
D. Dogs: Marlowe and Maybe.
E. Essential start to your day: Diet Coke
F. Favorite color: It changes pretty regularly. Right now I like gray and magenta.
G. Gold or Silver: Silver. Gold makes me look jaundiced.
H. Height: 5’6"
I. Instruments you play: Currently, I don't play anything, but I've dabbled in piano, harp and clarinet.
J. Job title: None. I'm free as a bird right now.
K. Kids: Not for me, but I like them, on an individual basis.
L. Live: Lubbock, Texas.
M. Mother’s name: I have two moms. (Not in the fun, lesbian way. Unfortunately.) They are Sharon and Sussan. In order of appearance in my life.
N. Nicknames: Bee, Susy, Susalou.
O. Overnight hospital stays: One for pneumonia when I was 5 or 6.
P. Pet peeves: When people ask me for advice and then don't do what I tell them to. Actually, people not doing what I tell them to, in general. I'm bossy.Q. Quote from a movie: " I had tempted fate, and fate had accepted." (Sarah, The End of the Affair.) Also: "I hate you, God. I hate you as though you existed!" (Maurice, also from The End of the Affair).
R. Right or left handed: A little of both, but I usually write with my right.
S. Siblings: 4 younger siblings. 2 brothers, two sisters.
T. Time you wake up: Eh, whenever. I seem to be on some sort of cycle. Trying to switch to a day schedule for my trip to Cape Breton.
U. Underwear: Typically, black "hipster" panties.
V. Vegetable you hate: All those weird textured legumes. Lima, wax, butter beans, etc. Blech.
W. What makes you run late: Bad hair days.
X. X-Rays you’ve had: Both arms, full back, both legs, ankles...pretty much everything. Someday I'll start glowing.
Y. Yummy food that you make: Chicken tacos, great spaghetti, chicken enchiladas, Poppyseed chicken. Twice baked potatoes.Those are all the things I can make.
Z. Zoo animal: Giraffes are my favorite. I also love llamas, alpacas and okapis. All the things with long necks.
Tidbits
This is the crap I think about as I fall asleep.
1. So, if the gray goo thing really happened (You know, where nanobots recreate themselves uncontrollably, and consume the whole world), couldn't we just use a giant, powerful magnet to stop it? It would erase their hard drives, and they'd forget what they were doing! Did I just save the world? You're welcome.
2. Continuing with the save-the-world theme, Buffy saved the world like, 7 times. Shouldn't she have been given a Nobel Prize...or a Starbucks gift card? SOMETHING? We are a nation of ingrates.
3. I'm going to Nova Scotia in 26 days. I managed to pack 10 days worth of stuff in a 24" suitcase. This is unprecedented, people. Someday, I'll be able to pack a month's worth of stuff in a carry on. I aspire to be Maggie Mason. We all should.
1. So, if the gray goo thing really happened (You know, where nanobots recreate themselves uncontrollably, and consume the whole world), couldn't we just use a giant, powerful magnet to stop it? It would erase their hard drives, and they'd forget what they were doing! Did I just save the world? You're welcome. 2. Continuing with the save-the-world theme, Buffy saved the world like, 7 times. Shouldn't she have been given a Nobel Prize...or a Starbucks gift card? SOMETHING? We are a nation of ingrates.
3. I'm going to Nova Scotia in 26 days. I managed to pack 10 days worth of stuff in a 24" suitcase. This is unprecedented, people. Someday, I'll be able to pack a month's worth of stuff in a carry on. I aspire to be Maggie Mason. We all should.
Breakouts are a Good Thing. Apparently.
I started "jogging," if you can call my short spurts and relatively slow speed trundling jogging, last week. It seems to have boosted my weight loss somewhat, or at least broken my plateau. The thing is, I hate it. I hate it the entire time I'm out there (or in here, if the weather is bad and I'm running in place). I hate sweating. I hate workout clothes. And I hate the ache in my knees while I do it. BUT I love how I feel afterwards. I like the pleasant ache in my muscles. And, after the sweat has been washed off, I like the endorphin rush. I do not, however, like what my weight loss and exercise has done to my skin.Estrogen is stored in fat. When fat is burned, the estrogen gets released into your (my) body. Which wreaks havoc on my skin. (And my period, which was all but non-existent after I got Implanon, but is now back in full force. For weeks at a time.) Even when I was a teenager, I had good skin. Clear and pale, with just a sprinkle of freckles, it was peaches and cream all the way. Even when other things about me have been considered "unattractive" (my weight, my attitude, my teeth) my skin has always been a good feature. Now, I'm a girl with bad skin. It sucks. But I'm down (almost) 20 pounds, 3.5 inches on my waist and 4 inches on my hips. Which is awesome.
Review: Crazy, Stupid, Love
It's been a few weeks since I saw Crazy, Stupid, Love, but I'm still thinking about it, which never happens, so I thought a review might be in order.
I didn't think I was particularly interested in this movie. There was something else out that I wanted to see, but my friend, who was going with me, doesn't see anything that's rated higher than PG-13, and this was the compromise.
Steve Carell was, as I've come to expect, funny and endearing. He continued the streak that began with The 40 Year Old Virgin, making his character likable, and more than just funny, a skill which so many comedians seem to be lacking. The real stand out in this film, however, was Ryan Gosling. He brought a depth to his performance that was completely refreshing. It would have been easy for him to play the character as just a playboy; An ass with no real motivation. But he didn't. Long before the end of the movie, the viewer really starts to like the guy, and root for him. It was startling.
I'll also say again, that I fully believe that the new crop of "starlets" (although, I think they'll amount to much more than that) including Emma Stone, Amanda Seyfried, and Mila Kunis are here to save the romantic comedy from empty headed performances by the likes of Katherine Heigl.
I didn't think I was particularly interested in this movie. There was something else out that I wanted to see, but my friend, who was going with me, doesn't see anything that's rated higher than PG-13, and this was the compromise.
Steve Carell was, as I've come to expect, funny and endearing. He continued the streak that began with The 40 Year Old Virgin, making his character likable, and more than just funny, a skill which so many comedians seem to be lacking. The real stand out in this film, however, was Ryan Gosling. He brought a depth to his performance that was completely refreshing. It would have been easy for him to play the character as just a playboy; An ass with no real motivation. But he didn't. Long before the end of the movie, the viewer really starts to like the guy, and root for him. It was startling.I'll also say again, that I fully believe that the new crop of "starlets" (although, I think they'll amount to much more than that) including Emma Stone, Amanda Seyfried, and Mila Kunis are here to save the romantic comedy from empty headed performances by the likes of Katherine Heigl.
So Much Cooler than Creationism
I read this today on Augusten Burroughs' home page. I love, love it. So much better than believing we were created by a nameless, faceless god or gods. Beautiful.
"The calcium in your bones came from a star. We are all made from recycled bits and pieces of the universe. This matters because origins matter.
For example, if you were born to a reigning monarch but kidnapped by the black market baby underground shortly after birth and sent to America where you were raised by common, unremarkable people from Ohio, and when you were in your thirties working as a humble UPS driver, dignitaries landed their helicopter on the roof of your crummy apartment building and informed you of their thirty-plus year search for you, His Royal Highness, the course of your life might change.
You know?
Our familial genetic origins -medical histories- inform us of medical conditions which exist in our families and when we know about these specific conditions, we can sometimes take certain actions to prevent them.
Which is why I think it's important to consider that billions of years before we were students and mothers and dog trainers and priests, we were particles that would form into star after star after star until forever passed, and instead of a star what formed was life; simplistic, crude, miraculous.
And after another infinity, there we were.
And this is why for you, anything is possible.
Because you are made out of everything."
For example, if you were born to a reigning monarch but kidnapped by the black market baby underground shortly after birth and sent to America where you were raised by common, unremarkable people from Ohio, and when you were in your thirties working as a humble UPS driver, dignitaries landed their helicopter on the roof of your crummy apartment building and informed you of their thirty-plus year search for you, His Royal Highness, the course of your life might change.
You know?
Our familial genetic origins -medical histories- inform us of medical conditions which exist in our families and when we know about these specific conditions, we can sometimes take certain actions to prevent them.
Which is why I think it's important to consider that billions of years before we were students and mothers and dog trainers and priests, we were particles that would form into star after star after star until forever passed, and instead of a star what formed was life; simplistic, crude, miraculous.
And after another infinity, there we were.
And this is why for you, anything is possible.
Because you are made out of everything."
90s Movie or Prophecy?
Somehow, I always knew it would end up this way.
Unrelated?
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| For once, actually my feet. |
I haven't lost any weight this week. I haven't gained either, but I'm still not happy. However, that's not what this post is about, so moving on.
I've dropped half a shoe size. How does that happen? Were my feet fat on the heels and the ends of my toes? Have my arches suddenly reappeared? (Nope, still flat footed.) Did I just suddenly start buying the wrong size shoes several years ago and not notice? (This, unfortunately is the most likely explanation.) Anyway, now I'm in an 8.5...which is good, because, you know, small feet, but bad because it's the most common shoe size in America, which makes it super hard to find shoes that fit. Which is probably why I started buying 9s to begin with...hmm. Anyway, the 9s aren't working any more, and I'm a little baffled.
A Prickly Issue
I do not believe in body hair on women. It is a evolutionary throwback that we simply don't need anymore. Potential mates no longer smell each other to determine how fertile they might be. (Note: if your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/significant other starts sniffing you, you have a problem.) Most of us don't romp naked through the fields, so we no longer need hair to protect our delicate areas. Razors are cheap. There are coupons for waxing all over the internet. (Don't try to do it yourself. Learn from my mistake.) Nair is like $4. Get rid of the hair ladies. (Obviously eyebrows, and a reasonable amount of arm hair are fine. ARM not UNDER ARM, note the difference!)Whenever I see a hair on the seat of the toilet in a women's restroom (which is what started this little rant), all that says to me is that someone wasn't taught proper grooming. And then I throw up a little. Shave your legs. Shave your pits. Get rid of the rest. You can have hair on your arms, if you insist, but onlyif it's blond. (ARM not UNDER ARM, note the difference!)
Keep your eyebrows (obviously). And get rid of everything else. Being lovely and smooth is what separates us from icky boys. It's what makes us fragrant and delicate and clean. No more of this natural crap. There's a reason that we don't live in the woods anymore.
Happy 4th
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Stop trying to kick and/or keep people out.
A is only better than D if it's a grade.
Since May 25 I've lost 13 pounds. Yay.
Since May 25 I've gone from a DD bra to a C. Not so yay.
Since the beginning of time (ok, since the beginning of my adolescence), I've determined whether I look presentable based on whether my boobs were bigger than my belly.
I've now lost all of my boobs....and like 1.5 inches of belly.
Unacceptable.
Since May 25 I've gone from a DD bra to a C. Not so yay.
Since the beginning of time (ok, since the beginning of my adolescence), I've determined whether I look presentable based on whether my boobs were bigger than my belly.
I've now lost all of my boobs....and like 1.5 inches of belly.
Unacceptable.
Pet Psychic
Cats are generally a mystery, they function on their own terms and do their own thing, and occasionally deem you worthy enough to pet them. But today, I'm about 98% sure that this is the conversation that went on between Astrid and George.
Astrid: Hey! You've got something in your tail! I'm just gonna get that....
George: Back off bitch!
Astrid: No really, it's just right there...
George: I said hands off you crazy cow! (hisses and runs away)
Astrid: Waaiiit!! (hot on her tail)
By the by and not for nothin', I'm down 13 pounds. The program stole a hundred of my calories. I'd call it a bitch, but it seems to be working.
Astrid: Hey! You've got something in your tail! I'm just gonna get that....
George: Back off bitch!
Astrid: No really, it's just right there...
George: I said hands off you crazy cow! (hisses and runs away)
Astrid: Waaiiit!! (hot on her tail)
By the by and not for nothin', I'm down 13 pounds. The program stole a hundred of my calories. I'd call it a bitch, but it seems to be working.
Small Changes...
I haven't weighed tonight yet, but based on my progress so far, I'm assuming I'm down about 10 pounds since I started with My Fitness Pal. As far as I can tell, my clothes fit pretty much the same. Except for my bras. Why do boobs always go first? That's the one fat place I'd like to stay fat, but whatever. It also appears that I've lost most, if not all of my double chin. Here are some pics for comparison:
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| May 20 June 19 |
8 Pounds
I'm 8 pounds down. That sounds better than 3, certainly, but it gets even better when you realize that 8 pounds is the same amount as this baby:
So far, it's been pretty easy. Almost too easy, and I'm beginning to get a little suspicious. Of what, I'm not sure. Obviously the weight is coming off. Obviously I'm eating better and exercising a few times a week...but it doesn't feel like dieting has in the past. I had a cheat day last week, which seems to have bumped me past a small plateau, and the combination of tacos for lunch and Popeye's for dinner made me super, horribly sick. A few weeks ago, that would have been a pretty normal day, so if nothing else, it appears I've broken the junk food addiction. Occasionally I crave a brownie (who doesn't?), so I let myself have a brownie. I count the calories, and that's that. I no longer feel compelled to eat ALL the brownies. So yeah, it's going.
Justin starts work on Thursday night (as opposed to all the orientation he's been doing the past week). A week after that, we'll get his first paycheck! Three cheers for disposable income!! Hip, hip, hooray!
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| Please note: Not my baby. |
Justin starts work on Thursday night (as opposed to all the orientation he's been doing the past week). A week after that, we'll get his first paycheck! Three cheers for disposable income!! Hip, hip, hooray!
Slow Going
Since being denied for weight loss surgery for 14 more months, I sort of gave up on losing any weight until then. It seemed pointless. And promptly gained 7ish pounds. But then my friend, Juliana, started with a program on her iphone and had really positive results (although, healthy, non-extreme results) in just a week. I decided that, besides the fact that it will make the surgery easier when I do get it, it would be a good idea to go ahead and start eating healthier. Just to get myself into that mode for post surgery.
Right.
Since being denied for weight loss surgery for 14 more months, I sort of gave up on losing any weight until then. It seemed pointless. And promptly gained 7ish pounds. But then my friend, Juliana, started with a program on her iphone and had really positive results (although, healthy, non-extreme results) in just a week. I decided that, besides the fact that it will make the surgery easier when I do get it, it would be a good idea to go ahead and start eating healthier. Just to get myself into that mode for post surgery.
On Wednesday, I signed up for My Fitness Pal on my phone. It takes your base metabolic rate, based on your weight, age, and activity level, and it tells you how many calories to eat to lose weight at a rate of around 2 pounds per week. It also lets you enter your food for the day into it, and keeps t
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| Note: Not my feet. Not my scale. Not my Hello Kitty tattoo. |
rack of the calories for you. Sounds easy. Sounds like something I (and everyone) should have been doing all along, right? Duh. Except that the idea of keeping a food diary always seemed so oppressive before. It's much easier to type the information in, and magically have the calorie count done for you, than to hand write it, and try to figure out your servings and calories etc all by yourself. Especially for something like fruit, which isn't conveniently labled for you. And, there's the added bonus of not having to carry a stupid journal around with you. And losing it. And then throwing the damn thing away after you spill a margarita and queso on it for the 15th time....ahem. I digress.
Moving on. The program seems to have most restaurants' menus, and if it's not in there, you can usually find something pretty close, or just ask the management and enter it yourself. It also lets you enter exercise, and "gives back" the calories you burnt off, if you want to have an extra slice of cake, or whatever.
All this to say: I've lost 3 pounds in the last 5 days.
Which is pretty much a snail's pace, but 3 pounds is 3 pounds, and it's certainly better than not losing, or, gods forbid gaining 3 (more) pounds, right?
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