Spanx me now or you can Spanx me later...

I am beginning to think that there is no better place to get your bloggie material than on NBC's Today show. Especially when Ann Curry is leading the charge!

In a single morning, I heard someone tell Ann, "I think bears in the wild are far safer than bears kept in captivity." Ann went on to quickly assure her viewers that NBC did not necessarily think it was a good idea to contact wild bears.

Changing direction, Ann asked her viewers if they thought it was possible they carried the "fat gene." The fat gene? I am thinking every woman has at least one pair of fat jeans, although not in white. No, white fat jeans are just wrong. It is like saying, "jumbo shrimp" or, as I used to say back in the Clinton era, "President Clinton."

It is, you know, one of "them, there" oxymorons. Although I have to admit, I am a little ashamed of how terribly Republican I used to be. I now totally heart Bill Clinton. And Hillary, don't get me started. While I take full responsibility for starting the term, "Event Dressing," Hillary certainly gets the credit for the "Pantsuit."
And actually, if you really want my opinion, the whole idea of the "pant suit" is a little gross, don't you think? I mean just think about the words, pant and suit together. It even sounds hot. And I don't mean hot in a good way. I mean hot like sweating right through your Spanx sort of hot.
But on the other hand, if you are wearing a pant suit and you are not wearing your Spankies, shame on you. That is just wrong for the rest of us viewing you from behind.

Anyhow, getting back to the subject at hand, there really wasn't one, was there?
This is something my daughter warned me about. She said, "You tend to ramble and no one knows what you are talking about."

Really? Well, then. Back to fat genes. Genes with a G. The question raised was, "Could you be carrying the fat gene?" I dunno. Let me look, real quick.
After carefully reviewing the situation and with little consideration, I'd say there is a better than not chance that I am carrying that gene. I don't think further testing will be necessary. Save your research dollars, folks. And put those calipers down. We got a certified carrier right here.

And Ms. Curry, who if you ask me will have trouble spelling the word fat without getting that sad little, "Oh, how can we help these people" look on her sweet, Asian face, will ask her resident expert, "What can we do as non-carriers of this genetic abnormality for our friends and family who are afflicted?"
She'll give that earnest look, the one that says, "If I just eat it for you, will that help?" And then she will hug her expert, secretly thinking, "Thank Goodness" I do not suffer from this terrible, terrible disorder.

Recognized

Well I have made it through ten days on my latest, "Eat all you can AND still lose weight" diet. This go-around is dedicated to the low-carb foods. Yeah, I know, how can anyone be on as many diets, for as long as I have and STILL need to lose weight? But if I have to answer that question for you my friend, you are a pain in my ass! My true friends will nod their heads and exclaim, "I know, me too". Sad, but true. A lifetime of diets, countless delicious foods passed by and still I am FAT! Crap on a stick, I think to myself, wonder what would happen if I just ate what I wanted? When I ask myself that question I am desperately trying to trick myself into thinking, "Yeah, why don't we try that ONE self"? Thank goodness, I am able to outsmart myself and slap that Weight Watcher German chocolate cake outta my hand- after all, the entire box is not a serving. Come on, you know I am not the only one guilty of eating both servings in the Weight Watcher dessert arena. There has to be a reason why they package two instead of one in a box, right? You betcha, it is called the old, "Give em' two and all the fatties out there won't stop at one" technique and guess what? It works almost all of the time! Oh, yeah, at first you will only eat one, but then by about week number two, you are wolfing em' both down before breakfast! Diets and diet foods are a big business, even now in times where our wallets are shrinking and yet our asses are getting bigger. Please, I am speaking strictly for myself; don't get all defensive with me. That is another thing I have noticed. Why is it that fat girls are so much bitchier then their skinny counter-parts? Damnation, I will tell you why. Getting dressed is a chore when nothing fits. And then you go out to eat a lite breakfast and end up eating last night’s left over’s- cold, while standing at the refridge, and this takes place unconsciously, while you are thinking about what you should have for breakfast. By the time you go to pack yourself a lunch to take to the office, you are searching everywhere for last night’s leftovers, wondering what in the world happened to them! Settling for some lean turkey and "several" frozen Cameo cookies, you think this is not too bad. Unfortunately, once you have your Starbucks, low-fat, splenda laced capoo in hand, there is nothing stopping you from dipping those, now nicely thawed Cameo's. The result is about half your daily calorie allotment- all of this eaten BEFORE you start your real day! Then when you get to work and that annoyingly skinny receptionist calls out to you in her way too bright voice, "Who wants Krispy Kreme"? You know and you're pretty sure she knows that to holler out the words, "Krispy Kreme" is like putting out the cattle call. As long as you can still walk, you are gonna come for the K & K. As you pick up your sinfully, "still warm" K&K, you are secretly figuring what sort of distraction you can create, so that you can swipe another one while no one is looking, because after all, it was only yesterday that you'd announced to everyone that you were making some "big" changes!

Found Swag

Well, I am getting ready to become an "Instant" Florida millionaire and if that doesn't pan out, I will have to be patient until Saturday's Power Ball numbers come in. Yes, I know that during these hard economic times throwing away your meager dollars on lottery is a just bad idea, but wait! I haven't told you yet about the prize I found this morning in my dryer.

So, I was looking for my favorite zippy, you know the one that makes me feel just a little more athletic than the rest, yes that's right, the white one. As I pulled it out of the dryer, I heard the sound of money. You know that dry paper-like sound that anyone who has ever found money in a dryer has heard?
Instant recognition is what it sounded like to my poor ears. As I pulled my beloved zippy out, a green folded bill fluttered to the ground. I quickly looked to my left and then to my right and seeing that the coast was clear- I snatched it right up! I couldn't believe my eyes as I slowly opened up the bill, what was it? A ten, a twenty? No folks, it was a newly washed and dried Benjamin- $100 dollars and it was ALL mine! Or was it?

About two weeks ago, my husband said to me while we were lounging in the Jacuzzi, "Hey, I wonder what ever happened to that $150 cash I had in my pocket the other day?" Now you have to understand this, when he asked me this I was about 3/4 of the way through an exceptionally wonderful bottle of red wine and my hoofs were being treated to the underwater jets, so even $150 bucks couldn't really get my attention. I know that is surprising, considering my bleak financial picture right now. But hey, a girl has to have standards and at that very moment I could be had, just not for a buck fifty.
But I did file it away under potential money making schemes of my future:

1. Do some laundry, find me some mullah.

But I guess by the time I dried off and put my heady down, I had completely forgotten all about the windfall that was right under my nose.

But now back to my winnings... I was $100 richer and knowing that there was more gold to be found, I got seriously busy looking for the other $50 bucks. Heck, I even folded an entire load, but nothing else turned up. Because our house rules allow up to $20 bucks found to be "guilt-free", I called my hubby and exclaimed "Oooh-la-la, guess what? I found a little prize this morning in the dryer, la-dee-dah"! Once there was full disclosure, it was all mine! Well almost, I did mention to him something about two great steaks on the grill Friday night, all courtesy of my spoils, but let us not get ahead of ourselves here.

I decided to take my booty or swag, as I like to think of it and play the Florida Lottery. The way I had it figured, it really was "found" money, so why not? But first, I needed a partner, someone that was willing to actually get in their car and go get the tickets, you know, get their hands dirty.
Enter the daughter. We started plotting and planning. We went on the lotto website and looked at past winners. No one wins if they play at the local grocer of this, I am convinced. We decided we needed to go to Circle K, preferably located on the "wrong side" of the town. Yeah, the way I figured it, the poorer the store, the better our chances.


About this time my daughter mentioned something about her increased risk of getting killed at these somewhat seedy locations, but I offered her the stink eye and said, "Look, there are always gonna be risks associated, are you in or out?" As she contemplated the rewards, then agreed, she was in.


But before she left, we started talking about what we'd do with our potential winnings and being the good Catholic that I am, I started to talk about all the poor people I knew and how we'd be able to enrich their lives with our booty. I talked about the Orlando Homeless Coalition and how much good we could do down there.


Suddenly my daughter looked at me and said, "Don't do it." I looked over at her my eyes wide open, "Don't do what?" I asked. She went on to say, "Don't try to trick Him, Mom, He knows". By now we were lying on my bed with our written plan between us and she repeated, "Don't try to trick the Lord into helping you win by saying all the great things you are gonna do with the money. He knows you are trying to trick Him". I was indignant; I really was planning on doing those things. But, I knew she had a point. So, I lifted my hands up and asked for forgiveness and told the Lord right then and there, "Lord, just to give you a little more security that my intentions are pure, I will offer to you a post-dated check, to the charity of choice.


Well, I wrote that check, but it remains uncashed, as there were just too many zeros for my bank account to handle. My daughter survived her visit to the "dark side" and after three Millionaire scratch offs, we are still not millionaires. But I will say this, it was one of the best afternoons I've had in a long time!

Magic Pill

I have been trying to figure out what disorder I am suffering from and let me tell you, with all that is out there for you to choose from, this is not an easy task. I mean seriously, there is plain and simple depression, but I am looking for something a little more exotic, maybe something that has multiple syllables & and just a few more double letters. I want something that the cure will have you taking one of those new designer drugs that later in my life will come back to bite me in the ass. You know all those drugs they advertise nowadays... There is almost always some female character that goes from putting her heady down to flying through her day, almost as if she has wings. Do you know the ones I am talking about? Yeah, and at the end of the advertisement...enter the wet blanket...

"Taking Nolibra may result in a severe increase in appetite; Nolibra has been known to cause manic-like behavior in certain individuals. Individuals that are taking certain other drugs may not wake up in the morning after taking Nolibra. If you drink or even think of coffee while on Nolibra the sensation to urinate may be so severe, that you may not be able to leave your bathroom. Not all individuals taking Nolibra have these side effects. Contact 911 immediately should you or any of your loved ones experience these or a multitude of other symptoms and stop taking Nolibra right away".

Phew... OK, that was a mouthful, but yeah, I think I will go ahead and fill that prescription after all. And if you don't really have anything clinically wrong with you, but are looking for a little action- Oh, boy, are there ever pills for that! We have all seen the ad's for...shhhh... (Erectile dysfunction). There it is, I said it. They have a pill for the minute man, the one hour man and then Superman. What I'd like to know is this, "does Superman have a day job"? If so, does everyone at his place of employment know that he is "Superman" or rather the guy that swallowed a great big horsey pill? You know the one that keeps him "ready" all-day, everyday? Yeah, that's my man. My guess is that the only thing you could use in defense of this guy would be, well, kryptonite-right? You'd probably have to mix it in with his food, "Ah... a little salt, pepper, olive oil and just a squeeze or two of krytonite. There, that should slow him down a bit! Now, just in case you are thinking to yourself, what is wrong with her? I want to assure you of this, "yes, there is something wrong with me; didn't you read my first sentence? But it is not in that department". So, being at home more than I ever have in my entire adult life, my exposure to TV is greater than that of any 10 year old home on summer vacation. It has become my "little friend", just talking away in the background, while I attend to important business, like menu planning and pedi touch-ups. It is a tough world out there right now and the more I watch the "boob tube", or I guess the politically correct name today would be the, "bubbie box", the more scared I become. What if I am starting to suffer from that disease, you know the one, the one where you can't leave your house for fear of other people? Geez... I am already noticing some of the symptoms- but I will have to look it up, because I get those symptoms mixed up with the one where you are scared of Friday's 13th... Life, it is just not easy these days!

Shopping Blues

Once again I found myself wandering the isles at one of my favorite retailers, this time it was TJ Max. I know now that there is something bad wrong with me, but what I am uncertain of, is if it is a bad thing- or not. OK. before I go on and skip over my little problem, let me ask you this... Does anyone else find themselves in stores like Home Goods, TJ, Target, BB&B and find themselves putting random items in their carts? Like do you really need another or even better yet, one set of cocktail plates that have chandeliers on them? Trust me on this, you don't. Or how about salt and pepper shakers? Did I need two packs of mini salt and pepper shakers with six sets in each box? Ummm...let me think about that. See, when I put them in the cart I was conjuring up images of me dancing around a beautifully set holiday table for twelve. I looked about 20 pounds thinner, my manny and pedi was perfect and my hair was, well it was having a good day and I was certainly not my normal pre-holiday self- frazzled and in a bad mood right up until the party goers or Jack Daniels arrives, which ever comes first.
No, those shakers completely morphed me into Betty Freakin Crocker. The same things is true with the Calphalon Cookware-which touted that it was "new innovative" cookware. Yeah, it was innovative all right. It had all these little ridges in the pan, so that in my mind, I again started daydreaming and saw myself flipping that perfect grilled panini, complete with the Panera-like grill marks onto that cute little chandelier cocktail plate. I'd then run over and mix a fabulous Cosmo in one of those adorable, I just couldn't resist multi-colored martini glasses and offer up to my husband the nifty new pepper grinder that was sure to please. Yeah, I got it bad. But lest you think that this ends badly, let me assure you of this. At the end of the day, we slide into those special sale, slash,slash 700 thread count sheets and it is pure luxury! So here's the new deal... Now when I go into these stores, I still do my thing, which is if anything catches my eye, I put it in the cart. Then once I have been working on filling up that cart- I call myself to order and say, "Well, self, it is time to do a cart check". From there I proceed to toss things out or I just look down at the mess in my cart and slowly come back to reality, the music stops playing and I just simply walk away. By the time I get into my car I am screaming with laughter. It just feels so good to put it in my cart- imagine my life with these random items and then just walk away. I feel like I really owned those salt and pepper shakers, even if it was short lived. They are now outta my system. Now when the holiday rolls around and I have to pull out the "picnic" version shakers, I'll admit to pangs of remorse, but that is quickly chased away by the twelve Cosmo's I proceed to imbibe in. It seems that some things do manage to make it to the checkout counter!