Sexy Undies? Not quite…

I bought these new undies. They are cute…in theory.

I’m not a small girl (but I am working on losing weight!) and I realized while wearing these new undergarments that there’s just a point where you can’t call them“panties.”  I think there is a point where – no matter how cute the fabric, how sexy the cut – once you have a certain yardage of fabric, some of that appeal is gone.  They go from “sexy panties” to just being underwear.

By no means saying that plus size women cant be sexy (Personally, I found Jennifer Hudson to be incredibly sexy a little bit heavier than she is now.  and Queen Latifa…sexy) I know that neither beauty nor sexiness are determined by a size.  I am just saying that there are just some garments that don’t seem like they can be identified by the same cutesy diminutive terminology.

No, the picture is not me.  This “plus size” model is probably, what? A size 12, 14?  She has no gut, no belly protruding…these are still panties.  Mine are underwear…for now.

I Don't Really Know...

...what or how I manage to mess up my bed so much. Can tell I sleep alone...and if I ever DO have to share, I think we will have to have our own comforters. I am set in my ways and gosh darn it, I wanna wrap my legs around the down comforter.

Attention Broadview Mall...

Holy Crap. You overwhelmed me...you overwhelmed me (she says defeatedly)...I should have been in my element here. Two of my favorite stores, Target & Ikea as the anchors...an Old Navy in the mall area, even a Panera. I could live inside your walls! That is in theory...

Ugh, whimper, sigh, moan...

I know it's not you, but it sure as Hell wasn't me either. Someone else came between us. "Someones" is actually more specific. Broadview, you are located in one of the largest cities in the world, why, oh WHY wouldn't the patrons that live in the vicinity know the rules (or even basic guidelines) of social etiquette?

In what society is it acceptable to have shopping carts splayed all the way across the aisle while the owner has a death drip on the handle while stretching partially down the side aisle? Or better yet, their spawn pushing the cart without a degree of motor function control much less visibility. Good rule of thumb, if YOU, as the parent, have trouble managing the cart on the concrete floor...your 3 year old whose hands can't even reach both handles isn't going to fare much better.

Is it equally as acceptable for me to ram into the carts (you thought I was going to say their offspring, didn't you, reader? What kind of person do you think I am!? - Blame the parents, not the kids...I'd ram them, not the mini versions of them).

Speaking of parents, this is directed at you, Father of 2, what makes you think that challenging your children to a race from one end of the checkout area to the other would end in anything other than tears and bloodshed? You deserved that. Your kid, not so much. Should have been your blood spilled on principle. They don't know better, although they should. They were old enough to know that Daddy is an idiot for suggesting such an activity indoors.

And to you, Miss I-Am-Going-To-Stop-Walking-Without-Looking-Behind-Me-And-Throw-It-Into-Reverse. I don't feel bad for stepping on you. I really don't.

Mr. My-Wife-Gave-Me-This-Long-Pointy-Item-To-Carry-And-When-I-Turn-I-Knock-Things-Off-Shelves-And-Almost-Took-Out-Someones-Eye, I forgive you. Even though you were a danger, I get it. And I am not even being sarcastic here. We've all done something similar to that...well, we've probably all done every thing I have mentioned here. But you were different Mr. MWGMTLPITCAWITIKTOSAATOSE, you were apologetic and seemed to care that you were a hazard. That wins you points in my book. You were my favorite person today, simply because you weren't stupid.

I had to get out of your Ikea, Broadview. I had to escape. Target, my solace, my friend. What did I do to upset you? You were in cahoots with Ikea. Such chaos. Old Navy, no better.

I want to go back to the Ikeas of the Midwest where the most interesting thing I remember experiencing are slutty women with low cut pants and their g-strings hanging out. You know, good healthy family entertainment.

Cabela's

I contemplated just adding these pics and not making any sort of comments and/or elaborations, but who am I kidding?

Who would have thought an excursion to Cabela's would have been so entertaining?! So, I knew/know it's an outdoors/hunting store so I anticipated that there would be dead things. And how. I can deal with that...I will assume they were killed to feed a family rather than sport. Right, right?!

What I didn't anticipate were the wonders that were the camoflage bikini and bathing suit. Nor did I anticipate the entire department called "Camo" ~ well, supposedly there was...I couldn't find it...(yes, you KNOW I am amazed at the cleverness to that statement).

I thoroughly enjoyed the "luggable loo" - a bucket. Yes, a bucket. Oh...wait, a bucket with a LID! OK, now I've seen everything. A bucket that comes with a lid. Clever, clever people... The liners for the "luggable loo" were being marketed as "double doodie." How did I ever camp without these items?!

I was sincerely impressed with the "new fangled" gadgets that they have to make camping less natural. The portable kitchens. I even saw an oven, yes a little mini oven to cook the frozen pizza that you inevitably purchased at the gas station on the way into the camp ground.

Here's a fun one too:

Thanks, but I've got my own supply.

So, this wasn't at Cabela's, but at Costco. Thought I'd throw you off to see if you were really paying attention. I guess this can be seen as a little girl version of camoflage. The fluffiness and color was quite overwhelming. It hurt my eyes, I could only look at it indirectly through the lens of my camera.

It was a successful trip. Mom and I ended up with a new pair of hiking boots each - on sale to boot - heh, to boot...two boot...I didn't even PLAN that one...some lettuce wrap kit thingy, a blue tool tutu, and I was very happy to find that Costco does carry VitaMuffin Tops!

Maybe if you're lucky you'll get to see me in my tutu.

Huh, THAT’S What That Song Means?

Have you ever listened to a song and thought that you knew what it was about based on a couple of the seemingly blatant lines that stand out only to look at all the lyrics and find that you missed the mark completely?

Take, for example (I always have an example!), “Second Best” by Barenaked Ladies.

"Second Best"
Everything's a lie
We're all gonna die
Before we say goodbye, let's attack
I admit it's bleak
But I give it a week
Until our friends the meek give it back
Is it true? Well it's true enough I guess
Join the chorus of the second best
Second best [several times]
What's left of you that's real
A mutated ideal
With limited appeal, I suggest
If hitting is an art
Then it's drawn us apart
When you erased your heart and beat your chest
Is it you? Well it's you enough I guess
You're an angel in a see-through dress
Is it true, yes it's true enough I guess
Second best [Several times]
Perhaps it's just as well
That I still look like hell
At least the world can tell us apart
Is it true? Yes it's true enough I guess
Come join the chorus of the unimpressed
Is it true, yes it's true enough I guess
Sometimes it's better to be second best
Second best [several times]

It’s obvious that this song is about someone being someone else’s 2nd choice and I, by osmosis, know all the lyrics, but I haven’t really thought of them.

It’s not a lament for being the 2nd in line; it’s a celebration of it. - OR – maybe it’s just what I am reading into it today? Like the Picasso in Daly plaza. Some days it’s the baboon and some days its the mother & child.

I have found myself singing this song to myself every now and again. Yes, even those with plenty positive self esteem have bouts of self pity now and again. The good thing is that when you do have descent self esteem and have these bouts, you realize that it’s silly to feel 2nd best.

It’s amazing how the world opens up when you start to pay attention to it.

And don't get me started on "Tonight's the Night" or "Blister in the Sun"...big hands...I know you're the one!

I am SO funny!

Seriously. I crack me UP!

I find myself catching myself doing things that, if I were to witness others doing, would laugh and or question their sanity. Mostly, I would just laugh.

Like this morning. I was lotioning up after a shower and as I went to dispense the lotion, it shot across the sink and landed all the way down the length of my lower torso and leg. BULLSEYE! Now, generally speaking, this isn’t that comical. It was more my facial expression and reaction when it happened. The range of emotion and expression that crossed my face had to have been vast and vastly goofy at that.

Then later in the day, I was in the car on the way to King Gyro to meet a friend for lunch. (YUM! But beside the point). I found myself doing this weird facial contortion to some crappy 70’s song that I know all the lyrics to - wait, no! It was an 80’s song… Hall & Oats. I cracked up when I thought of what my face looked like.

How often do we pass someone passionately singing along to the radio? Or, like the other day, I saw a woman popping zits while her boyfriend was pumping gas. I am sure people have seen me putting on foundation at stoplights on my way into work.

One of my FAVORITE instances of “unintentional drive-by voyeurism” was while driving down to Indy with 3 friends. We were heading down for a Genesis concert (“The Way We Walk” – again, beside the point…). At the time, I was working at the local grocery store and I typically was on the closing shift and was responsible for wiping down the checkouts. I would end up with smock-pockets chock full of pens. These pens would then end up in the console of my car.

As we were driving down I-65, we pass this guy that has a pen JAMMED into his ear and was either trying to soothe an inner ear itch or literally trying to write a mental note. Either way, it was damn funny.

We followed him for what seemed to be miles and he just kept digging.

I grabbed the pens from the console and distributed them to the others in the car. We each held the pen to our ears and overtook the guy. He looks to his left as we passed and sees all of us looking at him imitating him. He slowly removed the pen and lowered his hand, blushed sheepishly and looked straight ahead. (couldn’t find a pick of someone digging in their ear while driving…had to go for the next best…)

The concert was good and the only other things that happened on that trip were both humiliating & humbling for me. Both instances involved people either looking down my shirt or being flashed by me whilst walking over the sidewalk grates. I didn’t mind that much. I had a nice rack back then.

Explosive Laughter

I was talking to a friend the other day and something I said made them burst into a fit of laughter. I don’t remember what I said, just that it caused this explosive laughter that resonated.  It seemed that their entire body was laughing. 

It made me smile.  Not just the type of smile across the face sort of smile, but the kind that you feel all the way down to your toes.  A smile that you can feel in your heart.

I hope you have at least one friend in your life that makes your heart smile like that.

Down Doobie Do Down Down

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

21.6 pounds. Pants are just now starting to feel big.  I swear, I must have looked like a stuffed sausage in them ~ 21.6 pounds and I am just now feeling the difference? I had the first comment today from someone that doesn’t know I have been doing Weight Watchers. I haven’t really given anyone the opportunity to notice on their own really.  I keep telling them how I am doing.

“Have you been losing weight?”  was the comment/question I received today.  Seems like such a weird question…”hmm, your clothes are falling off you and you have one (or two) less chins…are you losing weight?” I am sure it’s meant to be a compliment, but it always seems so awkward.  More a statement than a compliment. “you are wearing blue.”  “as a matter of fact I am.”  Just odd.

March!

With the flash (better representation of the true color):

Without the flash (a little better to see the detail):

Poor Cone…

Gained a little weight, turns into a barrel and gets cast aside!  Don’t worry, I still love you cone.

Is It Really That Popular?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It seems that people are searching “Time Life Romancing the Seventies” and hitting my blog A LOT.  I am not sure if they are looking for my blog, or if they are looking for something else.  So, if you are one of the people that have arrived here by searching “romancing the 70’s” please let me know?!

The Nicest Surprise

A couple of years ago, right after the Christmas & New Year Holiday, I have volunteered to work “Late Night” at work. Where I go in at 11 am and work through 8 pm. No biggy. People were still in vacation mode, so phones were silent. I knew that my “girls” – the German & Brazilian interns that were living with me were at home. We didn’t have plans, we all still had to work the next day.

I get home at 8:20, walk in, say “hello” to them and then realized, there was an extra person there. Not someone that “didn’t belong” because this was very much one of his homes, but well, he had gone back to Germany?! There was a couple of seconds of confusion followed by pure and utter elation.

He made a special trip – just for the day – on his way back from Vegas to Germany to see me. I felt incredibly special and loved.

Love is the only way I can express my feelings for my dear friend, but the word in no way encompasses what he means to me. He truly became family, as have a few others that have lived with me and/or my family over the years. This was the first time in many years that I had such a connection with one of the International students though. He reminded me so much of my other German brother too. I fell in love immediately.

I was able to go visit him and his mother, who became another “Mom” to me as well. And then, she came to visit me and my family, and my parents visited them too. Just one big happy family.

I was just sitting here thinking about that day where I felt like I was the most important person in someone else’s life and thought I’d share.

FOILED AGAIN!

They’ve MULTIPLIED!  Now the pizza guy will NEVER find my house :’(

Those darn proliferating cones…

Can’t Wait Until The Lilacs Bloom!

Quick, Order a Pizza!

I live on a fairly busy road.  Busy enough that it almost seems more private because people seem to be in a hurry.

I thought when I moved in here that it would be easy since it’s a main throughway for the city, but I quickly realized when ordering a pizza, that’s not the case.

It is comical watching the pizza delivery guys trying to find the house.  I don’t make it any easier for them though ~ I don’t have my address on the house.  I have it on a slate at the end of the drive, but they seem to overlook it.  That is their fault, not mine.

One icy night, me and the girls (I had 2 international students here at the time) ordered our favorite delivery, Marcos Pizza.  Complete with cheesy bread. We were like little kids waiting at the window for the pizza delivery guy.  THERE HE IS! …and there he goes… We ended up calling the place after we saw him drive by like 6 times.  We were laughing hysterically at first.  We were even flashing the flood light off and on in hopes that it would be a guiding light, a beacon; to no avail.  Then, it just got ridiculous.  The kid ended up calling us with a total attitude,

“Uh, this is Marcos.  I have been looking for your house. I am getting really annoyed.”

“Yeah, we are annoyed too.  We’ve seen you drive by like 6 times”

“We’ll if I can’t find you in the next 2 minutes, you aren’t getting your pizza”

What an ass.  Seriously, I am being punished because you can’t follow directions?  “9th house down from the cemeteries, on the left.  2 story, with lights flashing on and off as if to signal you…”  During this conversation, I ended up going out to the street “Yeah, you see the woman in the street waving her arm at you?  No? Ok, I am TWO HOUSES UP…in the MIDDLE of the street.  I am the only person STANDING in the street.  Dude, I can see you looking all around.  Look straight ahead.  There you go…yes.  See that person?  Yeah. That is me.”

It took over an hour to get the pizza. It was a disappointing pizza.

A couple of days ago, I started seeing construction signs planted on the side of my street.  They are spread out about a mile, but the funny thing is that there is one lone traffic cone.  This lone traffic cone just happens to be right at my driveway.  I am feeling inspired to call & order a pizza so, for once, they can clearly identify my house “Yeah, turn left at the traffic cone.”

Progress!

Not bad for 15 weeks work!  Just a hair short of 20 pounds…

I Don’t Get It

You know those songs that have a part in them where the singer starts to talk?  Yeah, like “You’re My Soul and My Heart’s Inspiration” where, if you look up the lyrics, the part I am talking about, is indicated as such:

[Spoken:] Baby, I can't make it withoutcha. And I'm, I'm tellin' ya, honey-you're my
reason for laughin', for cryin', for livin', and for dyin'.

“Spoken” – no, sing it.  It’s a song. It’s lyrical, indicating there is melody involved.  Yes, I know, the definition of lyric doesn’t indicate it has to be sung, but I stand by my opinion that it should be sung not spoken.

You might have guessed it already, but I don’t like the songs that have the “Spoken” part in there.  I get embarrassed.  I don’t know why, but I do.  I feel embarrassed for them and for me.  I have to fast forward through “Stranded at the Drive-In” when I watch Grease.  Not only because of the “Spoken” but mainly ‘cause that song in general is my least favorite song in the movie.  I do enjoy that part where she get’s him in the goods with the door knob right before he starts singing though.

Clothesline Etiquette?

I love hanging my clothes on the line to dry.  Today is the 1st day this year that I have been able to do so.  I can’t wait to smell the clothes as I am folding them.

I often wonder about the etiquette involved with hanging clothes out though.  I mean, is it OK to hang underwear & bras out there?  I do.  And since I don’t care much for one of my neighbors, I usually giggle as I do so…it’s not like my bras are easy to miss, so I know they can tell what they are even from a great distance.

The fact that I get such great pleasure simply on the assumption that it makes my neighbors uncomfortable…probably answers my question of appropriateness.

Woot.

2.8 more pounds.  I am only a couple of weeks away from the 16 week milestone as well as the 10% milestone with Weight Watchers.  I am hoping to obtain both milestones at the same time. 

I was actually surprised that I had lost anything, much less 2.8 pounds.  My WW Meeting Manager called me out on why it didn’t seem like I was happy about it.  I didn’t have an answer.  I think I was still in shock or denial.

The important thing is that it is indeed moving in the right direction, down.

Latest Accomplishments

This is a bookmark for a friend.  I have been done with the cross-stitch part for ages, but I was trying to figure out how to finish it off.  I had delusions of grandeur, but at this point…I just wanted to make sure I send it.

The other, below, is for a friend’s wedding gift.  I am giving it as the shower gift along with a picture frame & a note that will state I will pay to have the cross-stitch framed as the wedding gift.  Hopefully she doesn’t think it’s a crappy gift!  And hopefully she doesn’t all of the sudden have the urge to look at the blog…I think I am safe though!  I have already started on another cross-stitch that I should have done a year ago for another set of friends.  Thankfully, the grid of the fabric is larger for this one.  I was really starting to feel my age while trying to work on the one below!

How I Love Thee, Hairbrush!

It was 1978. My Mom threw a surprise party for me. Even at that age I was a snot. I remember thinking there was something special going on because Dad not only took me to the store, but he also bought me a book. The book was about mothers and their babies. It had a hot pink cover and a duck & duckling on the cover. I also remember clearly that I was by perusing the books by myself while Dad was meandering through the store. No one thought anything of it. That would never happen in this day and age.

Other than the box of 48 Crayola Crayons that I opened from the wrong end, the only other gifts I remember are the Winnie the Pooh 100 Acre Woods pajamas (that ended up being my official wrestling outfit when my brother & I had WWF tournaments in the basement) and the pink Avon hairbrush. The hairbrush was rolled/wrapped in the pjs.

I was never a big fan of pink. Blue has always been my color. But golly I loved that hairbrush. It had stayed with me through my life. Then, one wintery day, it was gone. I had it when I left my parent’s house, but it wasn’t in my car. It wasn’t in my house. Damn it. Where’d it go!? A part of my life had disappeared.

2 months later, the snow had melted and the mourning period had passed. I had stopped wearing black. My Mom was visiting and as we pulled away from the house…THERE IT WAS! MY PINK HAIRBRUSH!!…in the gutter…where it had been for 2 months…

What a dilemma! Do I pick it up? Do I leave it? It’s been out there for 2 months. Eww. I left it.

I regretted it.

I searched eBay for a replacement to no avail. I even thought of stealing my sister’s. But I would have been busted. Hers is light pink, mine dark. And she knew I was on the prowl.

I wrote to Avon.

THEY WROTE BACK! Seems I have a flair for the dramatic and they enjoyed the imagery that I included in the letter. They published it in their newsletter. I ended up receiving a call and an email from 2 Avon Consultants that had the brush. I called the number and the Avon Consultant’s stoner son answered. I think he must have just taken one hit too many because he didn’t seem to know that his Mom sold Avon. I never heard back.

Poo.

I emailed the other person. SHE REPLIED! She said my story was touching and funny and that she indeed had the brush in question. I believe she only charged me $5 plus shipping and handling.

It was better than Christmas when the package arrived.

It doesn’t look like much. It’s not really. Just plastic with plastic bristles, I covet that darn brush. It was every bit worth the effort. In true ‘me’ form, shortly after I received it, I melted a couple of the bristles with the hairdryer. But all-in-all, it’s still a-ok in my book!

Boobenemblem… German for Shirt, Right?

In 1988 we had our 1st German Exchange Student, Charlotte “Tina” Jordan. She was a hoot.  We loved her dearly, but have unfortunately lost contact with her over the years.  About a week before she left the States, I acquired my 1st job, working at Shakeys.

There are a few things that tend to happen with exchange students.  For example, most Japanese girls will, almost immediately, paint their fingernails, pierce their ears, and perm their hair.  Another commonality is that as they are preparing to return home, their accents start to thicken and their English skills regress a little.  It makes sense; they know they will need to be reassimilating to life back at home.

I put on my uniform which consisted of black pants (jeans) and a light brown polo shirt.  The shirt had Shakey’s logo on it.  As I was modeling the shirt, Tina says “Nice boobenemblem.”   I don’t speak German, nor does anyone else in the family, so we all think ‘boobenemblem’ means “shirt.”

It doesn’t.  Tina laughs and says in her fake falsetto trilly voice “No! I said nice BOOB EMBLEM”  She liked the tacky logo that appeared on my boob.

What makes this even funnier is that I was relaying this very story to my dear friend who was married to a German and she apparently wasn’t paying attention to the story because she went home and tried to sound impressive by using “booben-emblem” in place of the word “shirt” and didn’t understand why he didn’t understand what she was saying.  Good times.  Maybe you had to be there.

On a similar note, I tried to look for a picture of the ugly tannish/brown shirts, but when I put id Shakey’s uniform in Google images, this came up:

yeah…that wasn’t what we had to wear.  Can tell they don’t really work there…they’d have fryer burns all over those exposed bellies!

Sadly, I would have looked descent in this back then, but didn’t have the self confidence to see it.  Oh to be young again…

Moti what?

I have been lacking motivation lately.  I would 'not say I have been lazy really.  Just unmotivated.  I have dishes in the sink ~ clean dishes mind you.  I just haven’t had the desire to put them away.  I washed clothes a week ago.  They are all crammed into the laundry basket.  Still not folded.

My house is actually pretty darn clean considering how unmotivated I am.  Even with the Weight Watchers, I have been lackluster.  There were 2 trivia nights (2 Saturdays of tailgate-like foods) that hit me pretty hard.  Actually, it was the 1st one that did me in.  I gained .8 pound that following week, but then lost .2 of it the following.  If that 2nd trivia night wasn’t in there, I may have recouped the whole .8, but oh well. 

Now is time to refocus.  Already this morning my “Naked Morning Weight” was lower than it has been since it passed this mark on it’s way up. By the end of April I will have been with WW for 16 weeks.  I am 7.2 lbs from the 10% goal.  I can do it.