Two Shows That Made Me Cry For Different Reasons (possible spoilers if you haven't seen them)

Luther is fascinating, maddening, and heartbreaking. I was sorry for the character's grief when his almost ex-wife was killed in series one. I didn't care about her so much, but Idris Elba played Luther's grief and feelings of betrayal by her killer very well. Series 2 didn't have any main characters die, it was just grim. Then I watched series 3...and now I want to scream. I won't say who died at the end of episode 3, just that it was one of my favorite supporting characters, and it was a nasty, undeserved death. (It also hit close to home as I constantly worry about some of my favorite officers at work finding themselves in similar situations) I bawled like a baby. Happily, the 4th episode saw the killer brought to justice. He managed to take out the one character that I wanted to see killed (teach you to mess with my man, jerk) and wound another one that I was on the shelf about (wasn't sure if she needed killing or a good slap) before getting taken down himself.


So, after watching the oh-so-good, yet oh-so-depressing Luther, I needed something to boost my spirits a bit.

Season 3 of Miranda ended with her being proposed to by no less than TWO adorable men and her mother practically weeping for joy. The final episodes start with her choosing one and the usual lunacy that follows. The scene that had me laughing so hard that the cat fled the room? Miranda and her fiancee decide to practice their first dance. "But we haven't chosen a song yet!" "The first song that comes on (as her fiancee brandishes the stereo remote) will be our song!"

The song?

They stare at each other blankly for a few seconds, and then bust out their own "Hammertime" moves. I almost died.

I almost didn't watch the rest of the show after Miranda & her fiancee split up at the end of part one. Yep, more bawling on my part.
"WHY? WHY CAN'T MIRANDA HAVE HER HAPPILY EVER AFTER?!?"

Then I realized that there surely was NO WAY Miranda Hart would break her fans like that. So I watched the rest of the finale. And bawled some more, but this time happily. Miranda DOES get her HEA, albeit it a roundabout offbeat way; which is really the only way it could happen. And it was satisfying!

My only remaining question is this: When did I become such a big watering pot?!?

The Best Workout DVD Ever

So, thanks to my addiction to British TV, I discovered the lunacy that is Miranda Hart. I love this woman- she is a British me...well, sort of. Unlike her semi-autobiograpghical character on Miranda, I manage to keep my clothes on in most occasions.

Anyway, as I was searching for more to watch, I discovered that Ms. Hart had made a workout video. Not just a workout video, but one even a hopeless klutz like ME can do. So of course I had to order it...and the one bit of equipment that it calls for:

Yep! I'm going to maracasize (shut up, it's a thing) my way to fitness! Dr. B will be proud...if he doesn't laugh himself to death first.

Closet Confessions

So, I've been trying to get the clutter in the house under control again. I weeded a lot of stuff out of my wardrobe last year, but there's still way more clothing than I need scattered around my house.

Like most people, I hate doing laundry. If I manage to wash & dry a load, it rarely gets folded/hung and put away. As a result, I often find myself getting dressed in the utility room. Much to the amusement of the neighbor behind me, if I've forgotten to lower the blind out there.

It also creates a spending issue. I have more socks & underwear than anybody needs. Why? Because I get frustrated trying to root through the piles of clean laundry to find either item so I find myself buying more on a trip to Walmart. And when the hell did the price of underwear double?!? I bought some last year for $6.97. Looked at the same package over the weekend and it was $11.97. But I digress...

Now that the season seems to be trying to change, I need to sort the cold weather clothes out and store them. First I need to find them all...which means excavating Laundry Mountain. My first stab at this revealed a mound of pajama bottoms (another vice), 5000 unmatched socks, the bra I've been looking for for at least 6 weeks, most of my tie-dyed t-shirt collection, and the blanket I thought I'd given to my dad. Then I unearthed a treasure trove of underwear, the old cat bed, 2 tennis balls, and a pair of jeans I haven't worn in ages.

Sadly, all of that was just the top layer. The pile was almost as tall as me, so there's quite a way to go. I realized that it wouldn't do any good to sort it out if I didn't have anywhere to put it all, so I stopped there and went to look at my closet & dresser. Oy. I have a drawer full of paired socks. And a huge bag of socks to be mated, not counting the ones I just rediscovered. Many of them have holes- I'm tough on socks for some reason- but I hang onto them anyway. Why? Because I'm nuts. So, off to ruthlessly weed out the holey socks, and for that matter the underwear with no elastic and more holes than there should be. We won't even go into the bra drawer.

Lost interest in that project after 1 CD. (That's how I make myself get things done. I put a CD on and tell myself I have to do whatever the job is until it ends) So I started poking through the closet. Anybody want a pair of denim overalls that create a stunning camel-toe effect? How about a Duran Duran t-shirt I bought on Ebay that turned out to be a cheap rag that the seller ironed a bad transfer on so you can't tell who's who? Why do I still own 7 black lace tops? And what am I going to do with a blue satin ballgown skirt I got for $2 at Goodwill? (It does fit, though)

Will someone call the crew at Hoarders for me, please? I think I need more help...

Miranda Hart- Is It Just Me?

Miranda is a British comedy star whose work I have never seen. I need to remedy this, becasue the book was outright funny. We have several things in common- like me, she's over 6ft tall, still single after 35, and constantly feeling awkward. Unlike me, she gets paid big money to be herself. The book is a look at her views on various aspects of everyday life, complete with personal anecdotes and a running debate with her 18 year old self. Quite funny and worth reading if you can snag a copy.

Odds and Ends

Late post. At least there IS one this Monday...

Anyway, I seem to have hit a patch of writer's block, so here are some random reflections from my weekend:

1. Had lunch with my parents at Carabba's on Saturday. My father ordered a weird seafood canneloni dish that he didn't like instead of the shrimp fettucine we all knew he would, just to prove a point. No idea what that point was, but there you go. Mom had chicken fettucine and I had the steak marsala with garlic mashed potatoes and it was awesome. However, the best thing we ate was the caramelized onion and bacon flatbread! That's going on the list of favorites.

2. Went to Trader Joe's and, as usual, the parking lot and store were both a zoo. I grabbed the few things I needed for the mexican meal Mom & I planned for Sunday and tried to get out of dodge before I lost my mind. Got to the registers and they all had long lines. Several family groups were there, including one idiot woman who clearly believes in the free-range children version of parenting. Her children were doing some whirling dervish spinning/dancing, throwing things at each other, and being genrall obnoxious while she smiled beatifically at them. The cashier said something to her in a low tone and she said "They're free spirits!" Fine, ask them to be free spirits over there (pointed at the door) becasue they're in everyone's way over here. She huffily called them back to her side. About the time I made it through my line and tried to get to the door, the older child had once again left mom's side and was spinning in the middle of the exit aisle. I stopped and the brat crashed into me. Before I could do/say anything, Mom snarls at me. "You need to watch out for my child!" I favored her with my best evil, someone's-about-to-die smile and the cashier hissed, "No, your child needs to watch out for her!" The child was yanked back to her side in a hurry.

3. I attempted to leave the Trader Joe's lot and get to Whole Foods. 35 minutes later, I'd made it 20 feet. So what do I do next? I didn't stop at WF, I did something even more idiotic- went to Walmart on a Saturday afternoon. The geniuses at the Walmart by my house had filled that main aisles with displays that barely left room for one person with a cart to get by in either direction. they also decided that 5 p.m. Saturday was a perfect time to drag pallets out of the storerooms and leave them in random aisles so people couldn't duck down them instead of trailing along behind groups blocking the main aisles. Naturally, I got stuck behind Shamu's sister who was waddling along in 5 inch heels (yeah, those help with the mobility problems that go with obesity), leaning on her cart while munching on a bucket of (unpaid for) fried chicken from the deli and hollering for "Junior" to go get her some Doritos and Cheez Whiz (not making this up) while yacking on her cell phone. There were 10 people backed up behind me when I finally snapped and started screaming. One man whispered "Follow that lady!" to his wife. "We might actually get out of here sometime today."

4. Sunday stupidity was self-inflicted. I decided it was time to color my hair again. Have actually been meaning to do it for weeks, but decided yesterday was the day. Warm Reddish Brown is the color I was supposed to get. Warm Reddish Brown, my big fat ass. My hair is the color of burnt plum sauce. Or, as my mother said, "well....it's kind of purpley in the right light."

5. Dinner was excellent! We made Sausage & Potato and Spicy Fish Tacos. Topped with Creamy Cabbage & Corn Slaw or Citrusy Radish Slaw. I got to zing my mother with one of her classic lines regarding the fish tacos. "How Do You KNOW You Don't Like Them If You've Never Tried Them?!?" She tried one and allowed as they weren't bad, but she preferred the sausage.


So that was my weekend.

Oh, and today's moment of stupidity? Came from the officer who looked at me and said "Is your hair supposed to be that color?" I asked him about his limp. "What limp?" This one...and I kicked the crap out of his shin. (Relax, it was a friend and I was reasonably sure I wan't going to be charged with assault)

Random thoughts

1. Listening to a commercial for some ambulance chaser and heard this gem: "Have you or a loved one experienced heart failure or died during kidney dialysis? You may be entitled to compensation." Um, if I'm dead, how do I claim the compensation?

2. Volunteered at the animal shelter Sunday. I had a really good time and have signed up for the orientation to make it a regular gig. The hardest part will be trying not to take all the animals home with me. Like the adorable black kitten, Tipsy, I met today. Luckily, she's already found a potential forever home- just waiting for the background check to come back. (the shelter requires proof of vaccination if you have other pets before they let you adopt a new one) My other favorite critter was the bunny- Hoptimus Prime. 

3. Weighed in and am back down to 326 lbs. I can't take much credit for the weight loss- my sinuses have been draining for a week and I've been too nauseous to eat much.

4. Finally got to turn my heater off for a few days! Even better- I got to open the windows and air the house out. Nightshade was thrilled to claim her spot in the front window.

5. My new smart phone may have been a mistake. There are so many free games to download that it isn't funny. Just what I needed- another way to waste time.

That's about it for today. I've been too sick with sinus issues to do anything entertaining or think of anything clever to post. 

Weight Loss Chronicles- part 2

A few years ago, I was sent to the ER after an accident at work. The doctors were very concerned about my blood pressure while I was there and told me it was near stroke level. This came as a shock to me- despite a family history (both sides- yay!) of HBP, mine had always been low to normal. They couldn't/wouldn't treat me for it since it didn't seem to be part of my injury and was therefore not covered by worker's comp, but strongly advised me to see my regular doctor about it ASAP.

The problem was, I didn't have a regular doctor. Years of not having insurance or the money to pay high bills prevented that. I had gone to a couple of walk-in clinics over the years, so I was at a loss as to where to start my search. (I had insurance by that point, but hadn't used it)  My parents had just moved up here and Mom suggested that I go to see the internist that they were seeing. He wasn't taking new patients as a rule, but agreed to take me on when Mom pointed out that it might be interesting to see the role genetics played in my health. So that's how I met Dr B.

He nearly had a stroke himself when he took my blood pressure at the first visit. According to him, I should have been dead from a stroke before I walked into the office. (I may be exaggerating slightly here, but it's pretty close to what he said) I told him that I felt fine, but he correctly pointed out that it didn't mean I WAS. We had gotten my medical records from NC and I managed to get him the records from several of my clinic visits, but it was hard to narrow down exactly when my blood pressure started to go bad. To complicate things, I was in the early stages of diabetes.

Well, in addition the the raft of medications I was now suddenly taking, I had to make changes to my diet. (bet you were wondering when that was going to come up, right?) As I've mentioned, I used to be the fried food queen. Mom had to have gall bladder surgery a few years before they moved here, and told me that I might want to cut back on fried foods some to hopefully avoid that in my future. I did for a while, but my current job had me lapse back into eating fast food a lot.

Fast food was one of the first things to get cut. Not completely, but a lot less of it. Frozen dinners were also cut down on. I've never been too crazy about them, but they were an easy out if I didn't feel like cooking and didn't want to go out for a burger. And actually, the Marie Callender dinners/potpies are pretty dang tasty. They're also fat/sodium bombs.

We talked about sugar consumption. When I was younger, I'd go through a 12 pack of soda a day. By the time I started seeing Dr B, it was down to a 12 pk a week. Now I might get through the equivalent of a 12 pack a month.  I rarely drank alcohol, so the sugars in that weren't an issue. We discussed tea/coffee and the look on Dr B's face when I told him that I drank around a quart a day was priceless. He relaxed a bit when I told him that I drink my coffee/tea unsweetened, but said that the caffeine was not helping my blood pressure. That subject is one we agreed to disagree on- I told him that I wasn't giving up caffeine for anybody. Mom tried to decaffeinate me once in high school and my teachers were calling her within 3 days and begging her to fix whatever was wrong with me. It wasn't pretty. I have still managed to cut back on it- I drink a large glass of iced coffee at home and then drink iced green tea & water at work. Unless I've forgotten to brew my coffee or tea at home, and then I get a large coffee from Starbucks on my way in to work.

The harder part on the sugar consumption was cutting carbs. I was baking cookies for the officers on a fairly regular basis (and eating them) and I have a genetic pre-disposition to loving bread & cakes. (Dr B says there's no such thing, but I know better, having seen 4 generations of my mom's family descend on a bakery like a swarm of locusts) Noodles- thick chewy, doughy noodles are one of my favorite comfort foods, especially in winter weather. Not to mention that I love white rice, which is apparently the worst kind. This is an ongoing work-in-progress. I stopped baking cookies. (not just for this, but because it was getting expensive and people were demanding them instead of being grateful that I made whatever I made and brought in) I try to avoid bakeries, but Whole Foods makes some VERY good pecan rolls, brownies, breads, etc. Trader Joe's makes a chocolate kissed shortbread cookie that I can eat a whole tub of in one sitting. (And I'm guiltily admitting that there's half a tub of them on the desk beside me as I type this.) I eat less rice now than I used to, but it's still white rice. I just don't like brown rice.

And we're back to fruits/vegetables. I don't eat as much of either as I should. The fruits I like best tend to be high in sugar. Or I add sugar to them- apples are meant to be in a pie, dammit! LOL. My diabetes medication creates an interesting reaction with leafy vegetables, and we'll leave it at that. I eat salads, but not often because of that. I like spinach & kale, but they create the same issue.

So, I'm still struggling. Not going to give up though. I CAN do this. The weight didn't all appear in a day, and it's not going to go away in one either.

Here I Go Again- Jen Lancaster

This is Jen's second novel and quite a hoot to read. The main character is Melissa "Lissy" Ryder. Lissy was a high school homecoming queen/cheerleader/leader of the mean girls posse/snotty witch. You know the type- think Mean Girls meets Heathers. She spent her high school years running roughshod over everyone and the following years coasting on what she believed to be her past glory.

Then the proverbial rug gets yanked out from under her feet.

Suddenly Lissy finds herself broke, unemployed, single, and fat. And living with her parents. Things can't get worse, right? Wrong. She gets an invitation to her class reunion.

Thinking she can relive her glory days, and praying that her former classmates all have wretched lives, she goes. Things don't go the way she'd hoped. Most of her former victims are amazingly successful. Her ex-husband is there with a Sofia Vergara lookalike. People are lining up to take metaphorical jabs at her and her BFF has given up and walked away in disgust.

Only one person takes pity on Lissy- Deva, formerly Debbie, who has become a New Age practitioner. Deva took all the negativity heaped on her from Lissy and channeled it into something positive. She feels truly sorry for the girl who made her life hell and offers to help her by giving Liss a potion. "Only take one drop a day!"

Liss makes her way home and thinks Deva is a nut. Why be nice to someone who was so rotten to her? But it's not like she has anything to lose at this point, so she tries the potion. It doesn't taste too awful, so she has some more. And some more....and then she falls asleep...

...only to wake up in her old room. Nothing shocking there- she's had to move back in with her parents. Then she realizes that she's not just in her old room- she's in her old body! That's right...Lissy Ryder is 17 again. Now maybe she can right the wrongs of her past and have a brighter future!

Well, almost. She changes the past, and winds up with the kind of future she dreamed of. The problem is, she kind of screwed everyone else up in doing it, but is enlightened enough to care. So now she has to find Deva, get more of the potion, and try again. Does she succeed? Does she get a Happily-Ever-After without ruining it for everyone?

You'll have to read it for yourself. And if you're like me, you'll wind up digging out your old Whitesnake recordings.

"I don't know where I'm going...but I sure know where I've been..."

The Weight Loss Chronicles- part 1

So, back to the subject of weight loss and how/why it eludes me.

I mentioned my issues with portion control, but only scratched the surface. Part of the problem is that I got used to cooking for crowds. Since I often was one of the few people in my various groups of friends who could/would cook, I got used to cooking for crowds. And then I got used to piling large amounts on my plate, mainly because there was no guarantee that there would be any left if I tried waiting and going back for seconds. (especially where a pack of hungry wrestlers was concerned!) Now it's mostly just cooking for myself, and occasionally my parents. But I still cook large amounts- sometimes so that I'll have leftovers and won't have to cook again for a few days, sometimes because I think I'm THAT hungry and will eat it all.

I also used to be a member of the clean plate club. We didn't have a lot of money when I was growing up, and both of my parents came from poor backgrounds, so wasting food was not an option. That was fine at home (where Mom controlled portions more than I ever have), but going out to eat? I'd all but lick the plate clean. And we all know that American restaurants serve meals that are often the equivalent of 2 or more servings. I would order the largest thing I could afford/or was told I could have and eat it all, even if it meant I was full to the point of almost being sick. We won't even discuss buffets.

Actually, I will mention buffets. Never met one I didn't like. Laura's husband, Kenny, came up with the best definition of buffet that I've ever heard- Big Ugly Fat Fuckers Eating Together. There were several Chinese buffets in my hometown, and one in particular that my friends and I nearly put out of business after my first year at college. The Guong Dong would open for lunch at 11 and close at 2. We'd be there waiting when they opened and they'd have to shoo us out at closing. At that time, I rarely ate vegetables, so I would spend 3 hours eating egg rolls, fried won tons, rice, and whatever meat I picked out of the other dishes.

Seriously y'all, I ate so much fried stuff  and other cholesterol laden foods that I'm surprised I didn't sweat gravy. Then again, I didn't do much exercise, so I rarely broke a sweat. Amazingly enough, my cholesterol isn't as bad as it could be. It's slightly elevated, according to Dr B, so I'm on a medication to help it but only because he thought it would also help with my blood pressure.

Now when I go to buffets (they're getting harder to find, unless you frequent casinos), I limit the amount of fried food I eat from them. I will admit that all bets are off on the rare occasion I find one with fried pork chops, but allow myself that indulgence since it happens so rarely. I eat more vegetables now than I did in my youth. (better late than never) In steakhouses, I no longer order the largest steak on the menu, and one of my sides is ALWAYS a salad or some other green vegetable. I don't like most salad dressings, so I ask for the dressing on the side and use smaller amounts than they usually give me.

Next week- other things I have done to try to cut calories.

Weight loss and other pipe dreams...

So, my BFF Laura got brave the other day and made a post on her blog http://thecrossstitchcorner.blogspot.com/2013/03/weight-loss.html about her struggle with losing weight. I take my hat off to her, because she was brutally honest and that is something I've avoided over the course of my own posts. So, to show her that she is not alone, and to hopefully help get me back on track (I've gained back about 15 lbs of the weight I had succeeded in losing), I am going to be equally honest:

Hi. My name is Mickey and I am a big girl. I stand roughly 6'2 in my stocking feet and weigh 334 lbs. (as of Sunday morning) I suffer from myriad medical problems, including high blood pressure, diabetes, and asthma. Several of these condtions can be helped by my losing weight. I try, and make a concerted effort that results in great progress, but then get derailed, discouraged, and gain it all back.

Here's part of the problem- exercise. I HATE it. Part of it is psychological- I hear the jeers & laughter of my classmates in gym class in the back of my mind. I was a big child and totally uncoordinated and usually the last one picked for teams. Part of the problem is physical- due to arthritis & spinal degeneration, moving is often painful, which makes me want to do it even less. Logically I know that it will get better if i just DO IT, and I need to find a way to make that happen.


Part two- food. Total love/hate releationship here. I love food, and most of the foods I love are the things that I shouldn't eat as much of as I do. Like anything fried, especially pork chops. Portion control is something I need to work on. I've gotten better- two trips to the Chinese buffet as opposed to the 5-10 (seriously) that I used to make. A couple of slices of pizza instead of an entire large pizza. But when it comes to snacks, I have a harder time. If I open a large bag of chips, I will eat a large bag of chips.

There's more to come on this subject, but I want to wrap this inital foray up and get it posted. Buckle up, folks, it's going to be a bumpy ride, but we're going to go on it together!

Good Line From Antenna TV

TV show line of the night:

Maude: I don't want to be attractive, Walter, attractive is the consolation pirze. I WANT TO BE BEAUTIFUL!!!!!

My Godmother

My mother decided in high school that she would name her first born daughter after her best friend. (Despite the fact that her friend wasn't that crazy about the name herself) Amusingly enough, she & her mother were present for my birth while my dad remained at work and dropped by the hospital after his shift. They'd come to visit mom, who had moved to NC by then, and I decided to make an early appearance.

I didn't meet Aunt P again until I was an obnoxious teeneager and we'd traveled to Iowa for their class reunion. She & her mom had moved to New Mexico, where they were teachers, and she had recently gotten married. She never had children of her own (lots of fur kids though, and she wound up playing mother to several of her students over the years) and laughingly declined Mom's (halfway) joking offer to hand me over. I liked her a lot, despite my teenage drama.

Mom has told me so many stories that I feel like I knew her as well as she did. The name seems to have been a mixed blessing- we were an awful lot alike. I say were, because my hell-raising, fire-breathing namesake passed away this morning. She had developed some serious health conditions over the last few years and made the decision to stop receiving treatment for them this week once the doctors told her that she was too weak to survive the liver transplant surgery she needed. She was tired of living in pain and hated having to depend on others for her care...much like I would be in the same situation.

Aunt P is being cremated and there won't be a funeral. She asked for her ashes to be put with her mother's until they could both be taken to Iowa and buried with her father. I imagine Mom & I will go for that, whenever her husband decides to do it. Mom seems to be taking this better than I am, oddly enough.

I'll share some of the stories about Aunt P & my mom some time in an upcoming post. Right now I'm a little too numb to remember any.

Happy Halloween

                                                     

                                          Picture from google images, not my own work. Many thanks to the original source.

No review this week, just a couple of stories from my past for your amusement.

I am a classic chicken. Not that most people ever guess that from my bad-ass, take no prisoners attitude. But put a horror movie on and watch me lose my shit faster than a goose that's been given ex-lax.

Many of my friends love horror movies. I actually like the idea of them, it's the sounds & some of the over the top gory visuals that I have a problem with. I usually wind up watching them, giving my friends a good laugh at my reactions, and then having nightmares for the next 3 days that often result in me prowling through the house with my sword (What? Doesn't everybody have a sword for defense? Kept right beside the bed? No? Moving on...) and swinging at shadows.

So, going back a number of years, here are 2 stories featuring my former BFF Susan, from the Garth Brooks concert story.

1.  As I mentioned in Concert Tales 1, our birthdays were only a few days apart. One year, there was a new Friday the 13th movie (Jason Goes to Hell) out right around then. We were on the road with our wrestling buddies and in Charlotte NC. Sue really wanted to go see the movie, so we got a group together and went. Now Sue LOVED horror movies, and almost nothing fazed her. She was one of those people who could happily drink cherry soda and eat anything while watching the most gruesome of scenes.

I, on the other hand, cannot. We used to do weekend movie marathons at her house with her Mom, sister, and whatever friends/cousins were about. We usually started off with comedies or action flicks, but everyone knew what to do when it was time for the horror flicks. Move all drinks away from me, put the popcorn somewhere I couldn't knock it over, and hand me the cushion known as "Mickey's scream pillow." During the worst scenes, I'd bury my face in the pillow and have my fingers in my ears. Hearing the gross sound effects is actually worse for me than seeing heads go flying. The sounds linger in my imagination and then I start imagining things way worse than what was actually onscreen. This practice works well at home, not so good in public.

Anyway, we were at the theater and the guys had been warned that I would most likely wind up burrowing into someone's shoulder and shrieking like a loon. The movie (for those who may not have seen it) started with Jason being blown into a zillion pieces. Then, during the autopsy of the remains, his heart starts beating...the entranced doctor doctor picks it up...I realize what is about to happen and slide off my seat onto the floor. Around me, a theater full of people are shrieking/gagging "He ate the heart!" I look to my left and what do I see but SUSAN crouched on the floor beside me. We finally found something that was too gross even for her. I was less than sympathetic. "YOU wanted to see this movie, bitch, now get back up there and watch it!" I don't remember much after that. I do know that the guys ribbed us about that for months.

2. Weekend movie marathon at Sue's. (Her mom had cable & a VCR- Yes, I'm old- at the time & I didn't, which is why we always did these at their house. But I would cook for whoever was there and always brought snacks/drinks/desserts, and helped clean up afterward, so her mom was totally fine with it) One weekend it wound up just being the 2 of us. Her mom, little sister, and the gaggle of gigglers were going to a dance at the Community Center. My BF at the time said he might drop by later after he got off from work.

Well, this was the perfect night for anyone but me to watch horror movies. It was dark & stormy, and spooky as hell. Their place was at the end of a row with a slightly overgrown wooded area to the side & rear, so the branches of trees & bushes would sometimes scrape the house when the wind gusted. Sue, knowing that my nerves were on edge, took pity on me and we watched comedies most of the evening, until it was time for Tales From The Crypt. She was dying (heh) to see this episode for some reason because Morton Downey Jr  (bonus points if you remember him) was in it. If I remember correctly, he was a skeptical journalist investigating a haunted house. It was more suspenseful than gory, and even got me interested. As we neared the end of the show, the real life storm started getting REALLY bad, and just as all hell broke loose on the tv show, it broke loose at the house. There was a terrific flash of lightning (we found out later it had hit the transformer half a block down from us) and a horrendous clap of thunder and everything went black.

Naturally, we were a bit taken aback by this. Ok, really, we freaked the fuck out. We're both shrieking and then hear a pounding on the door. We are beyond rational thought at this point. Sue screamed something to the effect of "Oh shit, something's trying to get us, RUN!" And we did. Now it's too bad that nobody had a night vision camera there to film what happened next, because I'm sure it was comedy gold.

Still screaming, flailing around in the dark, we both tried to run for the back door. In the dark, in a small living room crowded with furniture. After falling over things several times, still screaming, with the pounding continuing, we made it to the hall by the kitchen, leading to the back door. With my usual grace, I tripped over an air molecule and went SPLAT, face down. Sue trampled me, still trying to get out. The problem here was that the backdoor had a deadbolt lock...and we didn't have the key.

The front door flew open with a resounding BANG. Sue screamed "Kill her first!" and began alternately throwing her weight against the back door and kicking/pushing me toward the hooded figures in the front door.

Any guesses? Yep. My boyfriend & her mom. Her little sister got sent back to the car when we started screaming, just in case something was going down. (other than me) Chris had gotten there just as the power blew- that was the first pounding we'd heard. Mama C joined him at the door, heard our screams, dropped the keys, and that's why he kept pounding. He was trying to alert the fictitious killer that help was at hand. They finally got the door open, pointed Chris's flashlight in, and once they realized we weren't actually being murdered, laughed their asses off at us. The laughter stopped for a minute or two when I went for Sue's throat for trying to sacrifice me to the potential killers, but they pulled us apart and it was pretty funny once everyone calmed down.

The Fashion Industry is NUTS

So, thanks to health issues and my back & knee problems, my doctor has been really getting after me to lose weight. While I haven't lost as much as he'd like, I HAVE managed to lose 47 lbs in the last year. I'm still a big old heifer, but I'm working on it. Most of my weight loss is due to changes in diet- I don't like exercising, especially when I'm in chronic pain. I think it's a mental block, remembering how mean the other kids were in gym classes back in my younger schooldays, but I digress.

I had established a clothing moratorium for the year a few months ago, when I was trying to start decluttering and realized that most of the clothing piled up in the laundry room & spare room was stuff I either stopped wearing because I had gotten too fat for it, or was stuff I had simply forgotten I owned. There were also a lot of things that were basically duplicates- how many versions of black & purple t-shirts are there, and did I really need to hang on to ALL of them? So a LOT of stuff went to goodwill.

Just for giggles, I tried on a few of the things I had outgrown. Holy cow, they fit again!  Some of them even better than before! I still gave a fair chunk away (mostly things I wore when I worked in retail and/or used for LARP costumes), but kept some of the things I'm still likely to wear.

My current job is techincally clerical, but it's in kind of a warehouse environment. We can, and often do, handle large/dirty items, so jeans are the best clothing choice. Here's where things start getting a little tricky. Because I'm so tall AND fat, appropriately fitting pants of any style are hard to come by. And due to the occasional roughness of my job, I've had to throw away some damaged pairs. Even worse are the pairs I had to toss after my weight gain caused them to explode in ways that could not be repaired. I managed to find some replacements in the larger size- even though I was working on weight loss, I still had to wear something to work.

Well, now I've lost this weight, and my 'fat' jeans are WAAAAAAAAY too big. The pairs of jeans I had outgrown are all either about to fall apart from forcing myself into them even when I was too fat, or are actually slightly too big. *happy dance* So, since a nearby store that carried plus sizes appears to be having a going out of business sale, I thought I'd treat myself to a couple of new pairs of jeans. Not buying anything but jeans- the moratorium on everything else stands until I lose more weight & keep it off.  (Well, maybe a tie-dyed t-shirt or two. I've worn most of mine to bits)

So I went to this store- let's call them Mashin' Mug instead of giving them a plug- and hoped for the best. I've found good things there in the past, but there's also a lot of drek, and their sizes are fairly inconsistent. Also, WHO decides what is stylish? Weird colorblock combinations might pass for ok on a skinny girl, but don't work as well on Ample Annie. Not all fat girls want to wear clothes with sequins & beads, in eye-popping prints/colors that call attention to our figure flaws. NOBODY looks good in Capri pants and I'd give thanks daily if that look went away forever.  AND booty shorts- you know the ones that are so short & tight that they're basically glorified underwear- need to go away. Preferably for everyone, but especially plus sized versions. Just because you CAN make something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. Ditto for wearing it. Remember the eye trauma caused by biker shorts in the 90's? Same thing.

Where was I? Oh yeah, jeans. Nobody makes plain simple jeans any more either. You have to decide between skinny, boot leg, low waisted, wide legged, studded, embroidered, beaded, straight legged (as rare as intelligible lyrics in most rap ditties), acid wash, indigo, stonewashed, button-fly,  decaf, mocha, and whoops, I just took us to $tarbuck$. There are too many choices. Unless you're built like me, in which case you pretty much are stuck choosing whatever goes over your butt and can be zipped over your gut. Bonus points if they're miraculously the right length and/or you can bend over without mooning anyone, the pants exploding, or having a permanent zipper indentation on your stomach.

So, knowing the store's tendency to have erratic sizing, I found several styles of jeans to try on, and managed to get most of them in 3 sizes. My former fat size, the size I'm currently in which is a little loose, and a size down in a rush of optimism. I even managed to score a couple of pairs of Tall plus sizes which is as rare as a drama free day in the life of Lindsay Lohan. The lethargic dressing room attendant looked at the 12-15 pairs of jeans I was lugging and waved me in. So much for 5 items or less.

Anybody want to guess what happened next? No? Well, I'll tell you- NOTHING fit. Not one single frigging pair, not even in a 'not quite right, but I can make do' kind of way. The size down were WAY too small. The size up- aka fat me- were WAY too big. The size I currently wear were either too big or too small depending on the style of the jeans.

Do I need to explain how demoralizing that is? I walked into the store feeling good about myself for having lost 47 GADDAMNED POUNDS, and walked out feeling like a circus fat lady. Seriously, I was almost in tears. And the urge to go eat my way through a buffet and then a bakery was strong. Sanity, and sympathy from my mommy prevailed. I did have a bowl of ice cream, but just one, not the size of a soup tureen, and with no garnishes of any sort. 

Then I started thinking about the issue. I am NOT the problem. (not entirely) The fashion industry, who consider anything over a size 4 to be obese, is the problem. So I mentally composed this letter to Mashin Mug:

Dear Jackholes,

Sorry to hear you're going out of business. Actually, I'm not surprised. Your sizes have always been off, no matter what you claim, and you never stocked enough of the larger sizes to make it worth coming in and trying things on. Your failed experiment of mixing the plus sized items in with the juniors a few years ago did nothing to help. In fact, it made me homicidal to see a cute top in a size 2, only to discover the largest size you had in was a 16. It appeared to have that effect on a LOT of women, because that project didn't even last 4 months, did it?

I went in to your store hoping to spend a fair amount of money on some new jeans. What a shame that the same pair of jeans in 3 different sizes didn't fit. None of them were close enough to buy, even with your advertised 30-60% off sale. Oh, and one rack of t-shirts from the 70's marked 60% off isn't fooling anyone.  May I suggest a sign that says "These are crap, but they're cheap, so you know you'll buy some?"

I'm sure I'll run into simliar problems in other stores. But at least I have the satisfaction of knowing I'll never have to deal with YOU again.

Enraged, and decidedly not cordially yours,

The Amazonian Liongoddess 

Poetry Monday

Homage to My Hips



these hips are big hips.


they need space to


move around in.


they don't fit into little


petty places. these hips


are free hips.


they don't like to be held back.


these hips have never been enslaved,


they go where they want to go


they do what they want to do.


these hips are mighty hips.


these hips are magic hips.


i have known them


to put a spell on a man and


spin him like a top






Lucille Clifton

Conversations With the Fat Girl

From Goodreads:
Everyone seems to be getting on with their lives except Maggie. At 27, shes still working at the local coffee house, while her friends are getting married, having babies, and building careers. Even Olivia, Maggie's best friend from childhood, is getting married to her doctor boyfriend. Maggie, on the other hand, lives with her dog Solo, and has no romantic prospects, save for the torch she carries for Domenic, the busboy. Though Maggie and Olivia have been best friends since their fattie grade school years, Olivia's since gone the gastric-bypass surgery route, in hopes of obtaining the elusive size two, the holy grail for fat girls everywhere. So now Olivia's thin, blond, and betrothed, and Maggie's the fat bridesmaid. Ain't life grand? In this inspiring debut novel, Maggie speaks to women everywhere who wish for just once that they could forget about their weight.

My 2 Cents:

How do you know when you've outgrown your best friend? It takes Maggie an awful long time to figure it out in this novel. She and Olivia had promised as children to be in each other's weddings- the problem is that Olivia has had gastric bypass surgery, totally reinvented her life, and is treating Maggie like dirt because she doesn't want any reminders of her life as a big girl. Maggie, on the other hand, is trying to salvage the friendship, kickstart her own happily ever after, and get a 'grown up' job. She has support from her mother and sister, and finally comes to some big realizations at the end of the book. The vengeful part of me especially loved the wedding rehearsal dinner.

Total thumbs up for this one! It is possible to be a big girl and have a happy life, and Liza Palmer does a good job getting her character to that frame of mind.

Such A Pretty Face

From Goodreads:
In this warm, funny, thoroughly candid novel, acclaimed author Cathy Lamb introduces an unforgettable heroine who's half the woman she used to be, and about to find herself for the first time-Two years and 170 pounds ago, Stevie Barrett was wheeled into an operating room for surgery that most likely saved her life. Since that day, a new Stevie has emerged, one who walks without wheezing, plants a garden for self-therapy, and builds and paints fantastical wooden chairs. At thirty-five, Stevie is the one thing she never thought she'd be: thin. But for everything that's changed, some things remain the same. Stevie's shyness refuses to melt away. She still can't look her neighbors' gorgeous great-nephew in the eye. The Portland law office where she works remains utterly dysfunctional, as does her family-the aunt, uncle, and cousins who took her in when she was a child. To top it off, her once supportive best friend clearly resents her weight loss. By far the biggest challenge in Stevie's new life lies in figuring out how to define her new self. Collaborating with her cousins to plan her aunt and uncle's problematic fortieth anniversary party, Stevie starts to find some surprising answers-about who she is, who she wants to be, and how the old Stevie evolved in the first place. And with each revelation, she realizes the most important part of her transformation may not be what she's lost, but the courage and confidence she's gathering, day by day. As achingly honest as it is witty, Such A Pretty Face is a richly insightful novel of one woman's search for love, family, and acceptance, of the pain we all carry-and the wonders that can happen when we let it go at last.

My take:

OMG, this book made me cry. Stevie's journey, from her traumatic childhood  to the life she's rebuilding as the book progresses, is amazing. Her childhood is cut short by the deaths of her schizophrenic mother, baby sister, and beloved grandparents. She's taken in by her aunt and her control-freak husband, Herbert. Her cousins Polly & Lance try to help her feel normal, but they wind up battling their own issues. As her life spirals out of control, Stevie eats for comfort and eventually reaches 350 lbs. (Polly becomes an anorexic and Lance is just zany & neurotic)  After a heart attack at 32, she undergoes gastric bypass surgery and starts her life over again. At half her former weight, she's amazed at how different that life is.

In her quest for a new beginning, Stevie is forced to confront the demons of her past. She also finds a new love, loses an old friend who turns out not to be such a good one, helps a family cope with the loss of a child, joins a roller derby term (!!!), and watches as her family turns on the man who has made them all miserable for so many years in a quest to earn their own happy endings too. I was rooting for Stevie and all of her friends/family and cheered as those who needed it got their comeuppance.

Half-Assed: A Weight Loss Memoir

from Goodreads:
After undergoing gall bladder surgery at age twenty-three, Jennette Fulda decided it was time to lose some weight. Actually, more like half her weight. At the time, Jennette weighed 372 pounds.




Jennette was not born fat. But, by fifth grade, her response to a school questionnaire asking “what would you change about your appearance” was “I would be thinner.” Sound familiar?



Half-Assed is the captivating and incredibly honest story of Jennette’s journey to get in shape, lose weight, and change her life. From the beginning—dusting off her never-used treadmill and steering clear of the donut shop—to the end with her goal weight in sight, Jennette wows readers with her determined persistence to shed pounds and the ability to maintain her ever-present sense of self.
 
My 2 cents:
This wasn't a touchy-feely "oh it's so easy to lose weight" book. The author is very honest about her struggle and makes it clear that it took modifying her eating habits and exercising to accomplish her goal. Now I just need to follow in her footsteps!

Hungry For Happiness

This wasn't bad but it could have been better. The heroine is a deep-fried Southern former fat girl and the story picks up after she's had lap-band surgery. She suffers through some strange, bizarre, and sad relationship issues, has countless arguments with her overweight family members who think she's 'putting on airs' now that she's lost weight, yet succeeds with carrying on her life despite all of the obstacles thrown in her path. My biggest gripes are the highly exaggerated Southern accent the author manages to write with, and the fact that he makes Loretta seem like a victim despite her successes.