tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47354783050350464722024-03-19T05:17:35.947-07:00RantingsI'm a woman with too much to say who's finally found a place to say it.~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-69109976935805258082008-12-19T12:28:00.000-08:002008-12-19T12:49:43.032-08:00I can't stop laughing at this!<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxBg6A1Jz5EpolBDgxayVIO2n1CGcJ377GGSBJj0qxlLaPUEZ8R5TU6J9R0jMgT3UQLBiikYH-8FgTVPo2EKw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-64187284862976471382008-12-18T13:30:00.000-08:002008-12-18T13:48:15.551-08:00Merry Çhristmas!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJwPdaeRFNzkyLqTcl95gN-RSyZt2gz0WrYT-TDVFAo4XUkLCTJBAa_i7mArbgnMC_sadpS-WJ_3ECHUAl7svK3L1rj-oIJUhpuGuHMB7sBHimOiU1PJbVuBx9CSoB8SsFPvsZ5ww774/s1600-h/Merry-Christmas-with-tree.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 351px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJwPdaeRFNzkyLqTcl95gN-RSyZt2gz0WrYT-TDVFAo4XUkLCTJBAa_i7mArbgnMC_sadpS-WJ_3ECHUAl7svK3L1rj-oIJUhpuGuHMB7sBHimOiU1PJbVuBx9CSoB8SsFPvsZ5ww774/s400/Merry-Christmas-with-tree.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281250077502218306" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I love love love Christmas. Everyone always seems to be so stressed out and I don't get it! It's beautiful! Lights everywhere - shiny shiny lights!! And here we have snow! This is a very rare occasion, this beautiful treacherous white stuff. We usually get snow once a year, and it hasn't been at at Christmas since I can't even remember when! I'm almost finished my shopping and I'm having 13 people over for dinner... I can't wait!! For the first time in 4 years, I actually get to take a vacation; 2 whole weeks off!!<br /><br />I wish you all a very very very happy holiday season! Below are some simple tips to make it more enjoyable!<br /><br />1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.<br /><br />2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It's rare.. You cannot find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-alcoholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!<br /><br />3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.<br /><br />4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, ass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.<br /><br />5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Hellooo????</span><br /><br />6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.<br /><br />7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave<br />them behind, you're never going to see them again.<br /><br />8. Same for pies. Apple, Pumpkin, Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert?<br /><br />9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean really, have some standards.<br /><br />10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner!<br /><br />Remember this motto to live by:<br />"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-82078372634112871272008-11-21T14:39:00.000-08:002008-11-21T15:25:17.903-08:00Totally Confused<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxh1PHIVFgT4Ei539kr1zn-Ai0CSbSBC80F63HMlF9hEufkV52ctUOcIkpboofY3arCcReW5K93uDuU6UxdznNtikQcle5-qXHZHFm3ie_sibilY0KM9DX9LiXdW2o9yz6DTSG2DH3eo/s1600-h/confused.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 58px; height: 125px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxh1PHIVFgT4Ei539kr1zn-Ai0CSbSBC80F63HMlF9hEufkV52ctUOcIkpboofY3arCcReW5K93uDuU6UxdznNtikQcle5-qXHZHFm3ie_sibilY0KM9DX9LiXdW2o9yz6DTSG2DH3eo/s400/confused.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271244517199142530" border="0" /></a>You Americans are a complicated bunch.<br /><br />While proudly waving the stars and stripes, proclaiming the USA to be <span style="font-style: italic;">the most</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">wonderful, freest land of all, </span>you keep on fucking with people's freedoms. I'm baffled.<br /><br />At this moment, what befuddles me is Prop 8. Of course, we in Canada think it's wrong wrong wrong. Come on over here and get yerself hitched... who's the freest land of all???!!!<br /><br />Everyone has their argument. I could write volumes of my own, but what totally blows my mind is how you all voted yes and now there are protests to get it gone! WTF?<br /><br />And for those of you who voted yes, please please explain to me in terms that actually make sense, not that mind-bending religious bullshit, <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">how this is any less discriminatory than banning interracial marriage?!</span></span><br /><br />The religious argument is that marriage is between one man and one woman; How 'bout those Mormons??? Wow. My brain hurts.<br /><br />Canada... <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The</span> land of the free the brave... the true north strong and free... and the land of allowed to marry the one you love! Today I am waving my maple leaf proudly and proclaiming that I live in the wonderfulest freest land of all!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-54935033384513186272008-10-28T10:15:00.000-07:002008-10-28T10:18:15.956-07:00For those of you who are looking for an escape plan<embed src="http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/271557392" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashvars="videoId=1842856410&playerId=271557392&viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://console.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&domain=embed&autoStart=false&" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="486" height="412" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swliveconnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-13135664621323224452008-10-20T17:00:00.001-07:002008-10-20T17:02:10.239-07:00I can't decide which one is better!These are awesome!<a href="http://zinasaunders.com/pages/illustration/index.html"> Sarah</a><br /><br />And this is so much fun! <a href="http://www.palinaspresident.us/">President Sarah</a>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-64670307146971500262008-10-14T11:50:00.001-07:002008-10-14T12:34:13.742-07:00I didn't know I was so white light!!<p><a href="http://www.tk421.net/character/"><img src="http://www.tk421.net/character/galadriel.jpg" width="172" height="250" style="border-color:#f8f8ff;" border="2" alt="Which Fantasy/SciFi Character Are You?" /></a></p><br /><br />I wanted to be cool like my blog lover MPJ, so I took this quiz... Lo and behold I too am Galadriel (although I really really thought I was cool enough to be Jean Luc Picard!). Oh well, white light powers are good too.~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-88034213420412564502008-09-25T16:24:00.000-07:002008-09-25T16:37:45.168-07:00Happy Birthday Big Brother!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvDajL9Oy9si8PDYMAi4cPaTw9LwNtQgZrGQy0UctIQ2diJSurDYR_VRE9YycNsr-P6_DpyusJvjWfDkzBeZSx8A4_aRzCB8hOWD0FTkq-24v55tE7jRKcB2LtYTEIdgzGgH8oChBtyE/s1600-h/birthday-cake.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvDajL9Oy9si8PDYMAi4cPaTw9LwNtQgZrGQy0UctIQ2diJSurDYR_VRE9YycNsr-P6_DpyusJvjWfDkzBeZSx8A4_aRzCB8hOWD0FTkq-24v55tE7jRKcB2LtYTEIdgzGgH8oChBtyE/s400/birthday-cake.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250104162909341458" border="0" /></a>I wish today you were 43. I wish we were celebrating together, instead of being reminded that the remainder of you sits in an urn atop nannie's grave. You weren't supposed to be ashes. You were supposed to be my superhero forever.<br /><br />I still hear you laugh. You still make me laugh. But today I cry. I smile through my tears, forcing myself to remember the good times, but mostly I cry.<br /><br />I miss you big brother, more than you could know. I have never been able to talk to mom on this day, not for 15 years; her pain mixed with mine is too much for us both, so we just don't talk. The missing never stops. It hurts. It really really hurts.<br /><br />I know God has embraced you, and that helps some.<br /><br />I'm going to eat some birthday cake.<br /><br />I love you forever. You are not forgotten.~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-23653216474289538512008-09-23T15:30:00.000-07:002008-09-23T21:46:35.023-07:00Lonely?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfDL7E-M4Z0qUD2E06vZ9ANoa5GA1WCoHZXR6hoIb3gM1aBaowrjX_vyzxW4gz7fCB6lEBDQ8fhfCxnfv8QWfLvT_1oF2y_T3tTRzgEhPCajNw7FlEZQ8vGYOpObSjwxKYcj37xbKQSc/s1600-h/lonely.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfDL7E-M4Z0qUD2E06vZ9ANoa5GA1WCoHZXR6hoIb3gM1aBaowrjX_vyzxW4gz7fCB6lEBDQ8fhfCxnfv8QWfLvT_1oF2y_T3tTRzgEhPCajNw7FlEZQ8vGYOpObSjwxKYcj37xbKQSc/s400/lonely.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249374674042558162" border="0" /></a><br />In relationships, I have always had the luxury of time alone. I'm not really sure whether it was on purpose or not, but I seemed to pick mates who worked out of town or at the very least, had a completely different schedule than my own; this afforded me the freedom of being alone with my thoughts, or spending time with friends. I loved the diversity of having a mate, but also having single time. I'm very comfortable in my own skin, and quite enjoy my own company. In the event of an extended period of time together, I would find myself craving my alone time.<br /><br />Why then, with C out of town for only one night, am I feeling so lonely? If he were just at the gym, as he usually is at this hour, I would be enjoying the snippet of alone time I get each day. Instead, I find myself not knowing what to do, and feeling sort of sad. I feel like I've misplaced something.<br /><br />He called a few minutes ago. I didn't recognize the number. When I heard his voice, I actually felt that little flutter in my tummy. 5 years later, and he still makes me feel funny in that <span style="font-style: italic;">way.</span><br /><br />On the one hand, it seems like good news; I'm on the right path. I'm marrying the right man. There's a little voice though, whispering danger, Will Rogers, danger...if I feel this disjointed by a single day apart, what does that mean? It means that this man has a lot of power. It means that I am at risk of being emotionally destroyed if I lost him. It means that I have let myself go. That's scary.<br /><br />It's also exhilarating.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/300/A84D27EFF00360598DA2B13218F7B075.png" style="border: none; background: transparent;"/></a>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-18616094157364391952008-09-20T16:58:00.000-07:002008-09-22T20:43:22.336-07:00Someone Summing up Why I Started 'Rantings'I was told this was what Andy Rooney said on '60 Minutes' a few weeks back: However, the ever diligent MPJ did far more research than I (I must just be gullible to have taken it at face value), so I'm not yet sure who said this, however I still give cheers to it!<br /><br />I don't think being a minority makes you a victim of anything except numbers. The only things I can think of that are <span style="font-style: italic;">truly </span>discriminatory are things like the United Negro College Fund, Jet Magazine, Black Entertainment Television, and Miss Black America. Try to have things like the United Caucasian College Fund, Cloud Magazine, White Entertainment Television, or Miss White America ~ and see what happens...Jesse Jackson will be knocking down your door. Guns do not make you a killer. I think killing makes you a killer. You can kill someone with a baseball bat or a car, but no one is trying to ban you from driving to the ball game.<br /><br />(I have blogged this one plenty!) I believe they are called the Boy Scouts for a reason, which is why there are no girls allowed. Girls belong in the Girl Scouts! ARE YOU LISTENING MARTHA BURKE?<br /><br />I think that if you feel homosexuality is wrong, it is not a phobia, it is an opinion. I have the right 'NOT' to be tolerant of others because they are different, weird, or tick me off.<br /><br />When 70% of the people who get arrested are black, in cities where 70% of the population is black, that is not racial profiling; it is the Law of Probability.<br /><br />I believe that if you are selling me a milkshake, a pack of cigarettes, a newspaper or a hotel room, you must do it in English! As a matter of fact, if you want to be an American citizen, you should have to speak English! My father and grandfather didn't die in vain so you can leave the countries you were born in to come over and disrespect ours. I think the police should have every right to shoot you if you threaten them after they tell you to stop. If you can't understand the word 'freeze' or 'stop' in English, see the above lines. I don't think just because you were not born in this country, you are qualified for any special loan programs, government sponsored bank loans or tax breaks, etc., so you can open a hotel, coffee shop, trinket store, or any other business. We did not go to the aid of certain foreign countries and risk our lives in wars to defend their freedoms, so that decades later they could come over here and tell us our constitution is a living document; and open to their interpretations.<br /><br />I don't hate the rich I don't pity the poor<br /><br />I know pro wrestling is fake, but so are movies and television. That doesn't stop you from watching them.<br /><br />I think Bill Gates has every right to keep every penny he made and continue to make more. If it ticks you off, go and invent the next operating system that's better, and put your name on the building.<br /><br />(I have blogged this plenty too) It doesn't take a whole village to raise a child right, but it does take a parent to stand up to the kid; and smack their little behinds when necessary, and say 'NO!'<br /><br />I think tattoos and piercing are fine if you want them, but please don't pretend they are a political statement. And, please, stay home until that new lip ring heals. I don't want to look at your ugly infected mouth as you serve me French fries!<br /><br />I am sick of 'Political Correctness.' I know a lot of black people, and not a single one of them was born in Africa; so how can they be 'African-Americans'? Besides, Africa is a continent. I don't go around saying I am a European-American because my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather was from Europe. I am proud to be from America and nowhere else<br /><br />And if you don't like my point of view... <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">tough</span>!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-85562875606275754022008-09-17T16:01:00.000-07:002008-09-17T23:05:49.946-07:00Getting Married<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLU1vPw8pbHrFZpcCxXZvPxF8TSZftZS5TZ4Hqm9rHuFGsOcKxgq7NlprVxrDPUdB2x8-ahwfa-aiBPPntlb3tu1oRp0QnVXm8AMplea33RaorlV4x59VVvQZfhZYsZOgU5iFRrXFKR_M/s1600-h/bouquet.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLU1vPw8pbHrFZpcCxXZvPxF8TSZftZS5TZ4Hqm9rHuFGsOcKxgq7NlprVxrDPUdB2x8-ahwfa-aiBPPntlb3tu1oRp0QnVXm8AMplea33RaorlV4x59VVvQZfhZYsZOgU5iFRrXFKR_M/s400/bouquet.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247213485911222690" border="0" /></a>I was first married on May 26, 1990, at the tender age of 21 years. I remember that day with fondness, but also confusion. Try as I might, I cannot conjure up a memory of the feeling I think I should have had on my wedding day. The video shows me getting out of the car at the church, smiling, beautiful. In the background you hear a friend say "wow, doesn't she look so beautiful". My mom replied "Yeah, she looks just like a bride should for her first wedding". She was immediately horrified, but we laugh about that now. For me, that day was plagued with anxiety and in retrospect, I can hear that voice, the one that tells you you're making a mistake. At the time, I think I believed it was just 'nerves'. Part of my mixed, angry/nervous/excited feelings were due to the fact that, although I had never wanted a church wedding, I was getting married in a church. And although I had told my groom I liked his close-cut tidy beard, and "no, your mom is wrong, it's not sloppy, please don't shave it for the wedding", he appeared on that day bald-faced. My groom and I had been friends for many years, but wedding planning taught me so many things I hadn't known about him or his family, whom I had previously quite liked. He was a first generation Canadian to older German parents. I did not realize what that meant until I was to become part of the family. What I learned was that I, his bride, came a long second to his mother. Always. In fact, I was placed behind every family member; I think I fell in directly behind his youngest nephew. When he and I first talked about our wedding, we had visions of a beach and 25 close friends. However, once we were done talking with his mother, and after she'd finished scolding me for being so selfish, that 'vision' changed to a church wedding with 150 people. I knew it was wrong. I wanted to stand up for myself. I wanted him to stand up for me. But I was young and idealistic (he often referred to me as Polyanna) and I didn't realize how insidious this problem would be, or how damaging. I thought 'once we're married, things will change'. I would need a flow-chart now to illustrate the many ways that was so very wrong.<br /><br />When I got <a href="http://proudashamed.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-about-meeeeeee.html">MWD</a> and left the marriage, I was determined to never again settle. Although I still care for my ex-husband, and we remain friends, I was in that situation far too long.<br /><br />C and I have been together for 5 years now. We have been through at lot in that time. There have been horribly unpleasant dealings with his <a href="http://proudashamed.blogspot.com/2008/03/unbelievable.html">mentally unstable ex and endless court hearings surrounding that</a>, and there have been growing pains; arguments, money issues, and the usual relationship stress, but every step has brought us closer together and made us stronger. Our families love each other, and he loves his mama, but I come first. Always. We are best friends who live, work and play together every single day. Time apart consists of trips to the gym, or a lunch with a friend, but other than that, we are inseparable. Our offices are a common area apart and we still use msn to talk to each other when we can't be face to face. Our assistant once commented that she didn't know who was more codependant, me or him, to which he replied, 'hey, we're happy, so who cares?'. We're not codepent...shut up!<br /><br />After working out all the kinks, getting the crazy ex completely behind us, paying off lots debt and figuring out how to be a family with my three boys and my ex, we've decided it's time to get married!<br /><br />Even though we've lived as a married couple for the past 4 years, I'm simply giddy with excitement! We're doing this for all the right reasons. My Polyanna days are behind me and my eyes are wide open (even though this gushyness may not seem like it). I love this man. I love him for so many reasons; he's georgeous and smart and successful, but mostly because of the way we lay in bed and talk into the wee hours. And because he lets me know that there's nothing and no one more important than me. Because he reads my mind and knows when I'm going to cry before I do, and he always asks "how was your day?". And because we laugh together every single day; he makes me laugh like no one ever has, and he says my laugh is one of his favourite things about me. I love him most of all, because he's <a href="http://proudashamed.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-happy-place-for-mpj.html">my happy place</a>.<br /><br />In a perfect world, we'll be married on Bora Bora on my 40th birthday. We're working hard to make that happen, but it's a very expensive trip and there's so much involved.<br /><br />We'll see.<br /><br />p.s. I've added a donate button, just in case some really rich person stumbles on my blog and wants to help make it happen ;)~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-28950747193203917112008-09-08T11:17:00.000-07:002008-09-08T15:26:39.781-07:00Putting My Two Cents Where It Likely Isn't Welcome<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDtbqdeXibIhCdVvYbOQnE-2ReWZuSHtc3wVaF7QnONhmlaIOMP-MOij9jsuL67EC_t0tEnrv3-BpB53q6WdacJs6sYHdVAFeAfM-FJWSKuVAsjW8-amnnMROqIjPHlr_wjEfsnXHqe4/s1600-h/palin512.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDtbqdeXibIhCdVvYbOQnE-2ReWZuSHtc3wVaF7QnONhmlaIOMP-MOij9jsuL67EC_t0tEnrv3-BpB53q6WdacJs6sYHdVAFeAfM-FJWSKuVAsjW8-amnnMROqIjPHlr_wjEfsnXHqe4/s400/palin512.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243746815492103042" border="0" /></a>(I totally stole this picture from <a href="http://frankiecon.blogspot.com/">Frank because it's the BEST EVER!)</a><br /><br />I have been struggling as of late, with how to articulate all the shit going on (in my head as well as in real life). Not only is it <a href="http://proudashamed.blogspot.com/2007/09/mourning-my-loss.html">that time of year again</a>, but things have just been weird this past while. From the sudden death of my uncle last month, to the unusual acting out of my youngest son last week, things have just been off. Although I love fall/winter, I feel unready for it, due to the miserable weather we had this summer. Everything is just wrong.<br /><br />One thing I find myself obsessed with, is the American election. We have our own election coming up next month, but I can't even concentrate on who I'm going to vote for, because I'm too busy watching what's going on with our neighbours.<br /><br />At first, I was just intrigued by how things would work out between Barack and Hilary. I personally thought that an Obama/Clinton or Clinton/Obama ticket would be ideal either way; to my way of thinking, as long as the Republican-War Mongering- Anti-Gay- Anti-Abortion- God Squad Machine is stopped, it really doesn't matter. Hilary and Barack have their strenghts and weakness, but they share core ideals. I was absolutely positive the American people simply would not continue with the same bullshit, with the exception of course, of the greedy little piggy, bible thumping types and the racists.<br /><br />When Hilary lost the race and some people insisted that it was only because she's a woman, I thought the idea was just as absurd as the possibility that people would <span style="font-style: italic;">vote for her just because she's a woman.</span> These were just <a href="http://proudashamed.blogspot.com/2007/07/look-what-i-can-do.html">FemmeNazis</a> insisting they're being held down. Sure, some misogynists out there voted Hilary out, but really, there are more women in the united states than men, and what's best for the country can't possibly come down to what's between the Commander in Chief's legs can it? Of course not!! As it turns out, there are a contingent of (feminists?) who believe this to be the case. Yes, they are so concerned with their own sense of woman-ness that they might actually put every core belief aside, just to be sure there is a <span style="font-weight: bold;">vagina</span> in the White House at the end of the day. Vital issues aside, they want a woman, even a woman who's values are completely contrary to their own!<br /><br />When McCain announced his pick, I laughed, out loud and hard, that he thought he could actually play the woman card and sway Hilary supporters. I found it wholy <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">insulting</span> </span>that he thought smart, strong feminist women would buy into this ridiculous ploy. After all, Hilary herself is begging her supporters to back Obama; and feminist women are strong and <span style="font-style: italic;">intellegent </span>and therefore must understand that just because someone is female does not make her best for the job!<br /><br />Alas, I was wrong. Smart, 'feminist' women are buying it hook, line and sinker. Many are willing to put aside everything they believe in. They're willing to go against their fellow women for their own personal satisfaction.<br /><br />I ask these women, who could very well sway the election with their need for vaginal power...how far does this go? Do they allow a woman with no medical degree do their child's open heart surgery because she's a woman, and therefore automatically more qualified than any male doctor? Are they really willing to put us back a bazillion years by not accepting that men and women are, in fact, equal as a sex, but are not always qualified for the same positions? Do they really want their daughters to be given a hand-out, rather than a hand up?<br /><br />Do they really want to continue to make their sons feel inferior because they are not girls? We are already telling our little boys that they aren't equal. We are telling them they're inferior when we say that girls are special and deserve to have all-girl clubs, and all-girl sports teams, and they should rule the world, but they as little boys, they are not allowed the same rights. They are not deserving of their own clubs. We are so special that they cannot have BOY scouts or an all-boy hockey league, or a male version of Curves. We are telling them they aren't good enough, because they aren't like us, and we can do everything they can do, only we can do it better. We are teaching our children that we don't merely want equality, we want absolute power.<br /><br />To make matters worse, there are plenty of racist democrats, who will vote McCain because Obama is black. Women who vote for McCain after he played them like the fiddle he sees them as, makes them no better than racists. It makes them sexist.<br /><br />I have been trying to sort out why this makes me so furious, and have come to realize that it's because I cannot do a thing to change it, yet what happens over the boarder inadvertently affects me here in Canada. I am not allowed a vote, but I must live with the consequences. I am reduced to hoping that <span style="font-style: italic;">enough</span> smart American women see through the lies. I can only pray that smart, strong women will send the message to McCain that he can't fool them, because they are not so insecure as to fall for his evil plot to rule the world. I dearly wish that they will send the message to their little girls that we win some, we lose some, and for little boys; even if you're black, you can still be president!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-966793424365583152008-08-08T18:09:00.000-07:002008-08-08T19:00:54.798-07:00Happy Surprises, or Number 1 Mom!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzdslUxKrGSxrdXNbjXO4LgukSgjTYCRrFrOz3KSPx1H5yTSWVCb6IjWjb_uu8lbd4m3V_vCQGmMzZy0-lCF0I6OQxqBloZyiZDxYi0EDWSr_xk0mZUF4dYsJhzASfEZ6a5yd2JsYMORM/s1600-h/%231mom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzdslUxKrGSxrdXNbjXO4LgukSgjTYCRrFrOz3KSPx1H5yTSWVCb6IjWjb_uu8lbd4m3V_vCQGmMzZy0-lCF0I6OQxqBloZyiZDxYi0EDWSr_xk0mZUF4dYsJhzASfEZ6a5yd2JsYMORM/s400/%231mom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232331990190068306" border="0" /></a><br />10 years ago, when I contracted 'mad woman's disease', I realized that I was married to the wrong man and living the wrong life. After 10 years of trying to squeeze myself into the mold that was his family, his upbringing and his origins, I just couldn't do it anymore. It was a tough choice, but for my sanity, it had to be done; so I went from stay-at-home mom to my 3 boys, to newly-single-trying-to-find-myself mom/woman. At first, I assumed that I would keep the boys and the house, and we would find a way to make due, knowing that my ex would remain a fantastic father. However, that was not to be. After 6 months of stand-off, living in the same house while separated, I realized I simply did not have the money, nor the will to fight anymore. I couldn't see dragging my poor boys through the court process, especially knowing that his and his family's money would trump whatever meager pittance I could manage to earn for the fight. So I capitulated to the crying and the raging of my ex, and let the boys remain in the home with him, while I lived in a one-bedroom basement suite. I took with me my antique rocking chair and personal belongings only; I was really starting over.<br /><br />What I didn't expect was the backlash! Here I thought I was doing the right thing, not dragging my kids through the court system and allowing their father, who was the money-earner and responsible, loving dad, raise the boys ~ half-time.<br /><br />Many people who knew me were openly scornful that I would be such a terrible mother not to "fight for my boys". The people who loved me most just shook their heads at my insanity, leaving behind a handsome, loving husband and beautiful children (except my mama, who stood by me and kept me feeling strong). I saw my boys every single day that first year, so how was I leaving them behind?? My ex worked out of town, so when he went to work, I would stay in the house and then go back to my home when he came back. This way the boys didn't have to go back and forth; they got to stay in the home they knew and we did the commuting. I just couldn't understand that people would see me through such bitter glasses. If I were the man in the same scenario I'd have been named father of the year! It was so hard, but I held my head high, and stood my ground, explaining that although I would have loved to have my boys all the time, this was best for them. Throughout the 10 years, our schedule with the boys has changed, and he has had them more often than me as they've gotten older.<br /><br />My ex mother-in-law has openly campaigned to destroy my boys' view of their mother, often using terms far too racy for children to hear in general, never mind about their own mom. My ex never has done much about it, and I remained silent knowing that if I just kept living my truth, the boys would be able to make their own decisions. All the while, I was terrified they would think I'd abandoned them, or worse.<br /><br />My boys are now teens. I love the men they're becoming. I don't get to have them as much as I'd like these days, but through the miracle of the internet, we manage to stay in close contact, even though they now live in another city. We just had them for a week-long pseudo camping trip (meaning that we stayed in a beautiful float home on the lake and the only roughing it we had to do was use a porta-potty), and we had an amazing time. C and I figure this is probably the last year we'll be able to do a family trip, since my oldest will be 18 next year, and will likely have more interesting things to do, so this trip was really important to us. It went exactly as we hoped, and we all came home feeling great.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Conversation with my boys last night:</span><br />We were all home watching a movie. The boy in the movie was upset because the last thing he'd said to his mom was 'I hate you'.<br /><br />Me: That's one thing none of you has never said to me.<br /><br />Youngest: What's that?<br /><br />Me: None of you have ever said "I hate you" to me.<br /><br />Middle (16): That's cause you're an awesome mom.<br /><br />Me: You think?<br /><br />Youngest (13): Yeah, that just shows you're doing a great job mom. You can proudly say 'none of my boys have ever said they hate me'.<br /><br />Me: Wow guys, thanks!<br /><br />Oldest (17): You didn't know you're a great mom?<br /><br />Me: Well I hoped, but it sure is nice that you think so!<br /><br />Youngest: You have this really great way of dealing with things so that it never gets to that point. You're fair and you make sense.<br /><br />Me: quiet cause I don't want to cry.<br /><br />Then the movie came back on and it was over.<br /><br />I know that part of the reason they feel that way is because I'm not the full-time, every day, get on your case parent but damn, it sure feels like victory!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-61662981255982341722008-07-28T19:00:00.001-07:002008-07-28T19:00:37.973-07:00The Junky's Wives<embed src="http://static.ning.com/networkcreators/widgets/index/swf/badge.swf?v=4916" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="lt" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#ffffff" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="206" height="64" allowScriptAccess="always" flashvars="networkUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fjwclub.ning.com%2F&panel=user&username=28d8im4pc7dd&avatarUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.ning.com%2Ffiles%2Fr1sGlEsFbyA3SE6UXG4rcMcHS3ZMy0Hb4IUiDxszONqnZIetztjjdIycoXD41u%2ANJpoNwhYLoDlOLMFR2oYe1NpBPp4ogXoi%2Fmamakisses.jpg%3Fwidth%3D48%26height%3D48%26crop%3D1%253A1&configXmlUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fstatic.ning.com%2Fjwclub%2Finstances%2Fmain%2Fembeddable%2Fbadge-config.xml%3Ft%3D1217162219" ></embed> <br /><small style="font-size: 12px;"><a target="_blank" href="http://jwclub.ning.com">View my page on <em>The Junky's Wives Club</em></a></small><br />~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-13933637530275127682008-07-28T12:03:00.000-07:002008-07-28T12:04:12.967-07:00Sure, why not?!<table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"><tr><td bg align="center" style="color:#EEEEEE;"><br /><span style="'color:black;font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"><br /><strong>You Are 7: The Enthusiast</strong><br /></span></td></tr><br /><tr><td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"><br /><center><img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatnumberareyouquiz/7.jpg" height="100" width="100" /></center><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><br />You are outgoing and playful - always seeing the happy side to life.<br /><br />You're enthusiastic and excitable. You love anything new.<br /><br /><br /><br />Multi-talented, you do many things well... and find success easy.<br /><br />You prefer to keep things light with others. Opening up is hard for you.<br /><br /><br /><br />At Your Best: You are deeply involved in each experience. You appreciate life for what it is, and you take the time to enjoy each moment.<br /><br /><br /><br />At Your Worst: You are greedy, self centered, impulsive, and insatiable.<br /><br /><br /><br />Your Fixation: Gluttony<br /><br /><br /><br />Your Primary Fear: Deprivation and pain<br /><br /><br /><br />Your Primary Desire: To be satisfied and content<br /><br /><br /><br />Other Number 7's: Howard Stern, Cameron Diaz, Robin Williams, Jim Carey, and Jenny Mccarthy.<br /></span></td></tr></table><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatnumberareyouquiz/">What Number Are You?</a></div>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-43065419072211353282008-07-08T09:48:00.000-07:002008-07-08T09:56:28.339-07:00Frankie, Where Are You????My blog buddy, Frankiecon has disappeared. I don't think he realized how much his words touched me. His story was so inspiring! I went to check in on him and he's suddenly <span style="font-style: italic;">gone</span>. It would appear he's deleted his blog and that has me concerned. It doesn't make sense, because he put a lot into his blog. I remember a past post when he said if he disappeared we wouldn't have to wonder, we'd know.... he was using.<br /><br />Frank, if you happen to read this, please know that the <a href="http://thestagnantartist.blogspot.com/">Stagnant Artist</a> and I are <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> hoping you're ok and that maybe you deleted your blog by accident or some other better explanation than that you're using again.<br /><br />If you're a friend of Frankiecon and you know what happened, please let us know!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-70885534769229996052008-06-13T12:09:00.000-07:002008-06-13T12:10:57.116-07:00Succsess!The dogger is rescued and will be with his mama Long Vowels very soon!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-76765972511288252232008-06-08T17:21:00.000-07:002008-06-08T17:29:14.704-07:00Help for a Dogger (and fellow Blogger)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTzDAPFDwI9J0Uh9UFq6MU21jRS6WAU2Qmsx3W2ksI_MAUG8jd5LNsDUtYj0sZ5A-MIz3DtgJ3za5KHJYq-0oMmu0k9jg2mvDaA1WS0LeWu1y1yAdXZBoGHVvHXmZzzUHHI5rAjop-44/s1600-h/dali.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTzDAPFDwI9J0Uh9UFq6MU21jRS6WAU2Qmsx3W2ksI_MAUG8jd5LNsDUtYj0sZ5A-MIz3DtgJ3za5KHJYq-0oMmu0k9jg2mvDaA1WS0LeWu1y1yAdXZBoGHVvHXmZzzUHHI5rAjop-44/s400/dali.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209670717303840802" border="0" /></a><br />My good blog buddy <a href="http://longvowels.blogspot.com/">Long Vowels</a><br />needs help rescuing this pretty girl pictured here. The problem is that Dali-dog is too far away from Vowels, who has recently wed (and we know how much money it costs to pull that off!)<br /><br />The cost to get Dali to her new mama and daddy is an awful lot and we're almost there...but not quite, so if you're rescue inclined, please help! Every little bit helps...<br /><br /><a href="http://longvowels.blogspot.com/">click here to donate.</a>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-10842613158927507642008-06-07T13:12:00.000-07:002008-06-07T13:34:24.672-07:00WOW 10% Down!!!It's official. My hard work is paying off. After almost 4 weeks, our diet guru came to do our fat tests yesterday. I started at a miserable 26.6% (which is truly hard to believe, since I wasn't even close to obese, just kind of getting round!), and C was at 20%.<br /><br />I am now down to 16.6% ~ <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">10%??? wow!</span> ~ and he's 14%! We're just about there after only 4 weeks!! I feel motivated, energized, sexy again, and ready for summer. <span style="font-style: italic;">And</span>, today is cheat day....<br /><br />Life is good.~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-88027490160878565282008-05-20T10:30:00.001-07:002008-05-20T10:48:44.986-07:00I'm melting.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnruoL4Vf8DGv3VhMgcbRGcmvVRpPhuiWnDzrsIZUjYCuZcXJLYojL9w_9u6p1HYnQmV0kWxvSfbHsjreR-HtqOn828vmlQr-tnksz6nL0F0PQ8py8zZ3IVezwT1IkRzGiwjywz5kilAg/s1600-h/MELTING_WOMAN_by_LEONALEGRIA.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnruoL4Vf8DGv3VhMgcbRGcmvVRpPhuiWnDzrsIZUjYCuZcXJLYojL9w_9u6p1HYnQmV0kWxvSfbHsjreR-HtqOn828vmlQr-tnksz6nL0F0PQ8py8zZ3IVezwT1IkRzGiwjywz5kilAg/s400/MELTING_WOMAN_by_LEONALEGRIA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202513893182775218" border="0" /></a>Although not as drastic as the first few days, I'm holding steady at 7 pounds and the inches are melting off. It was nice to put on pants I haven't been able to wear in a while this morning and not see a 'muffin top' hanging over the sides! Oh, and my face has these things called cheekbones! I haven't seen them in a while. I like them.<br /><br />So I'm one week down and one to go before I get a cheat day. I simply cannot believe my resolve. Even with my three teen boys circling the kitchen and eating such evilness as Cheetos and Doritos, I have held firm. I even went so far as to make pancakes and bacon for them and not have any. It was really trying yesterday morning when I watched my son toast a bagel and proceed to adorn it with scrambled egg, bacon, cheese and <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">syrup!</span> He actually apologized to me as he walked by and slipped in my saliva that had wet the floor....this is getting really tough. <br /><br />The worst part about this first two weeks is the total lack of variety. It's the <span style="font-style: italic;">same combination of foods </span>for three days and then another <span style="font-style: italic;">same combination</span> for three days. That and the fact that with the two of us doing this, I haven't seen much more than my kitchen in a week! I spend my days cooking, cleaning and cooking again every 2 hours. Ugh.<br /><br />This picture looks just like the past me. It keeps me motivated. But lord above, what I wouldn't do for a hot fudge sundae!!!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-53282952181515655982008-05-15T19:11:00.000-07:002008-05-15T19:13:35.503-07:007 Pounds in 3 days!Wow, this shit really does work! I'm officially 7 down and an inch all around...I'm starting to have to fight cravings though, so I need to work extra hard this next while.<div><br /></div><div>Yay!<br /><div><br /></div></div>~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-31655554050283315392008-05-14T13:25:00.000-07:002008-05-14T15:41:05.930-07:00Down 5 and counting!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsvhUtefAlhFkRmLR6tEnPbNYKhfiw4nl7yQRXcYWfUAq68P7tE9Bnmm9NZNZ7pRZdTc2u6sC3HTO2mpZgcQOlOadPC1DMQGlzIXh8qKLVNIXkKzAL07QhHbXHXyO7M9SAPtP7WC7YWTg/s1600-h/5pounds.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsvhUtefAlhFkRmLR6tEnPbNYKhfiw4nl7yQRXcYWfUAq68P7tE9Bnmm9NZNZ7pRZdTc2u6sC3HTO2mpZgcQOlOadPC1DMQGlzIXh8qKLVNIXkKzAL07QhHbXHXyO7M9SAPtP7WC7YWTg/s400/5pounds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200332874430128034" border="0" /></a><br />5 pounds down in 2 days! Yay!!<br /><br />Today is the last of my red meat days (for this rotation), thank god. Tomorrow is the start of a 3-day rotation of much more pleasant whites; chicken, fish, and I can even have a potato!<br /><br />I have to admit this is getting harder to do, but as long as I keep seeing results, I'll keep at it. Clearly it's working, so who am I to complain? HA, I can always find reasons to complain, but I'm working on positive thoughts.<br /><br />This is how absorbed I am in this endeavor:<br /><br />Last night my mom and I had a date to go see Sylvia Browne. (For those not in the know, Sylvia is a world renowned psychic/medium, who has written umpteen books and been credited with helping police solve many crimes).<br /><br />We planned to meet for dinner first, and then walk down to the theatre. Being that it was only the second day of my new plan, I was focussed on making sure only to order the sirloin steak and (no fries!) green salad. We enjoyed dinner together and then walked to the theatre, where we had front row aisle seats. We had all been given a ticket when we entered the theatre. It was explained that in order to keep things fair for all, Sylvia would later do a draw, and those whose tickets were drawn would get to ask one, and only one, question.<br /><br />On stage, there was a comfy chair, a microphone, and a side table, with a small vase filled with lilies, and a fan. Sylvia came out, sat in the chair and shared her astral wisdom with the audience.<br /><br />We had our pee break, and then she guided through a few minutes of meditation. This would have been quite groovy, if not for the chick 4 rows behind us who spent the entire time coughing and hacking up a lung. My meditative moments were infused with angry, practice self control moments; what I really wanted to do was stand up, turn around and tell this insanely rude germ spreading bitch to take it out the lobby. What the fuck is up with that? There are 2 thousand people trying to have a meditative moment, and it doesn't occur to her that perhaps she should take her sputum elsewhere??? The audience erupted in laughter when Sylvia finished her meditative monologue, had the lights turned up, looked right at sputum queen and said "for the love of God woman, take a Vitamin C or something would you?".<br /><br />Sylvia then did the draw and sure enough, pulled my ticket! I suddenly had no idea what to ask, so I offered it to my mom. She said no, if she was meant to ask a question her ticket would be drawn. So I walked up to the microphone and asked the only question I could think of on the spot. I said, "hi Sylvia, I would like to know if my business is going to be successful", to which she replied, "oh yeah. I also see something about food". I am not in the business of food, nor am I ever likely to be in this lifetime.....mom figures she was picking up on my diet. I think I should have been more specific with my question!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-60527349532332407962008-05-13T13:09:00.000-07:002008-05-13T13:23:30.091-07:00Day Two<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmXgSQvegr6Bc8Rso1aGb6IP0heSelLRiN7ta7H1gNuZreRFyhjCD197TSqBMottJYzq4sk_IZyP72WJByLmOJOdQz5qJ2mbEl0FyLpiljfjKP5iMqlSFaPIR2aBRi2-NdzxzwOefA1g/s1600-h/scale.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmXgSQvegr6Bc8Rso1aGb6IP0heSelLRiN7ta7H1gNuZreRFyhjCD197TSqBMottJYzq4sk_IZyP72WJByLmOJOdQz5qJ2mbEl0FyLpiljfjKP5iMqlSFaPIR2aBRi2-NdzxzwOefA1g/s400/scale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199957696151920530" border="0" /></a>"You're so damn beautiful in the morning. I love to watch you sleep. How did I get so lucky?"<br /><br />That's what I woke up to this morning. How could a girl not have a spring in her step, waking up to love like that?<br /><br />And to top it off, it would appear that yesterday's weighing, measuring and stuffing my face yielded some pretty amazing results. I stepped on the scale and it said I'm already down 4 lbs ! How can that be? I got C to step on the scale and he's down 5. Unbelievable, but very inspiring!<br /><br />This morning I threw my eight egg whites into the blender with some blueberries and Splenda. Drinking them, it turns out, wasn't as bad as trying to eat a giant omelet of slimy egg whites. I can do this! I've even figured out how to stay within my limits while going out for dinner with my mama tonight; we're going to see Sylvia Brown.<br /><br />Today is a good day, even if it is raining!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-85531859557211714832008-05-12T13:54:00.000-07:002008-05-12T15:36:29.115-07:00The Beginning of Something New<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVsjPeDcUw9O0qWnlSyeU1LDAxrluYLIFFJXfDv0HIiTZv8Rg_4ccVA528691Evni0vXYEkSy6PRRDx1oatJDjEcVl40qAUV94iLynogLTeG2Lc1mpD5Mc3Y8lEYud7_NWVkIBb-WFVLo/s1600-h/butterfly.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVsjPeDcUw9O0qWnlSyeU1LDAxrluYLIFFJXfDv0HIiTZv8Rg_4ccVA528691Evni0vXYEkSy6PRRDx1oatJDjEcVl40qAUV94iLynogLTeG2Lc1mpD5Mc3Y8lEYud7_NWVkIBb-WFVLo/s400/butterfly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199599302605905794" border="0" /></a><br />I have been quite <span style="font-style: italic;">blogstipated</span> this past while; that is, I have not been able to think of anything I felt the need to throw out there to the blogosphere.<br /><br />Today though, I am starting something new.<br /><br />In my past I was one of those girls everyone loved to hate. If my food didn't come in Styrofoam from some fast-food joint, or wasn't served to me by a waitress, with gravy, butter, mayonnaise and all the condiments, I didn't want anything to do with eating it. I used to despise exercise; after all, "why would I have to exert myself when I can look like this with no effort?" Pshaw!<br /><br />Times have changed. I'm inching ever closer to 40 and I'm in love, happy and fulfilled for the most part (despite my previous whining, I really am!). Apparently, when you put these factors together, all in one package, it equals ZERO metabolism. In the past year, I have cut calories, cut fat, done at least 40 minutes of cardio a day, and tried Weight Watchers and starvation, and the number on the scale has continued to climb, as has the number attached to my clothing.<br /><br />Today however, is a new day. I am going to blog about this daily, in order to keep myself focussed and accountable. As a typical Aries, I'm a super starter, but not such a super finisher, so hopefully this will help.<br /><br />I have started a new 'eating plan'. In the past, when I've tried to 'diet', I've always failed miserably, due to my utter lack of willpower. However, the only willpower needed for this particular plan is to keep eating. Wohoo, that should be easy, right? After all, I haven't tipped the scales at 20 pounds more than I was 2 years ago by not eating! As I type this, I'm staring at my third meal of the day. It's taunting me. I can literally hear it saying "yeah, I'm gonna need you to eat me". I'm stuffed from my last meal only 2 hours ago! There is no room for cravings. I can barely find room to eat the food I need to!<br /><br />Guess what I had for breakfast....??<br /><br />EIGHT egg whites, a cup of oatmeal and blueberries! This is required eating. It's insane! This is a plan designed for bodybuilders to cut weight prior to competition. I'm told that when done correctly, it revs your metabolism to a point that you can eat what you want (within reason of course) after about 3 months.<br /><br />Today is day one. It's extremely time consuming and labour intensive, so I can see that I'm really going to have to keep my eye on the prize. Maybe putting it out there to the universe will keep me accountable. I think I'll also hang a bikini up in my office and on my fridge...<br /><br />Wish me luck!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-69957521876623151402008-04-29T18:21:00.000-07:002008-04-29T18:30:25.815-07:00NOPE!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1q42tlzQ8gmCFav5pZ3tq8XzAKm1ukg_wUp8bZd0Fa87y14yHehzPjIEGvbmmEP6hC1IIsK8DIrx7fiMCl54F2ga_pBII3Wyf36q3K4o49jLATVvcNfOjIXXVSZc56xL1NtZjAnXI6t4/s1600-h/WRONG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1q42tlzQ8gmCFav5pZ3tq8XzAKm1ukg_wUp8bZd0Fa87y14yHehzPjIEGvbmmEP6hC1IIsK8DIrx7fiMCl54F2ga_pBII3Wyf36q3K4o49jLATVvcNfOjIXXVSZc56xL1NtZjAnXI6t4/s400/WRONG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194843473500495378" border="0" /></a><br /><br />From bad to worse.<br /><br />I was wrong.<br /><br />Happycat is NOT coming.<br /><br />I simply have no energy to whine about it; that and I don't think it's of great interest to read my whining.<br /><br />BLEH!~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4735478305035046472.post-30525823287907979442008-04-22T21:40:00.000-07:002008-04-22T21:47:20.011-07:00Waiting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuOBsUL3gfYPerqJhrA-p8BeNfhow2AiRqpJGqBhDxwrLx3ZMps6mlw1Yq9XfJ6iB-KUpGIsyPDDOwbDX63Oa052oAAMFhoeuIWrl6QKC9CDNe_oCIH3QqbkInh2ylhO_oTP4DH5l39Qg/s1600-h/happycat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuOBsUL3gfYPerqJhrA-p8BeNfhow2AiRqpJGqBhDxwrLx3ZMps6mlw1Yq9XfJ6iB-KUpGIsyPDDOwbDX63Oa052oAAMFhoeuIWrl6QKC9CDNe_oCIH3QqbkInh2ylhO_oTP4DH5l39Qg/s400/happycat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192296437634883074" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Still no word. Everything is at a standstill. I keep thinking that the longer we have to wait, the better the news will be. Happycat is waiting to strike!<br /><br />Happy thoughts happy thoughts happy thoughts.....~e~http://www.blogger.com/profile/08257768214255917574noreply@blogger.com2