No Haters Allowed!

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
but my dear, it's so delightful,
And since I've no place to go,
I will blog, I will blog, I will blog.

Ok, that doesn't really rhymn.  But as I sit at my computer looking out my window, I can't help but be reminded how freakin' cold it is outside!!  We still have the 1/2 inch of snow on the ground that accumulated Thursday morning.  If God is looking for a concensus, I'm ready for spring!

But that's not what I wanted to blog about today.  Nope; my panties are in a wad today.  My blood has been boiling for a little while, and I've been anxiously waiting for my kids to go play nicely so I can get this off my chest!  It's a little hard to get it all out when I'm constantly interrupted by, "Mommy!  E won't give me my Theodore!" and "But Mom!  G has my Simon and won't get out of my room!"

I have to interrupt our regularly scheduled program for a brief Public Service Announcement.  Moms!  Do yourself and your sanity a favor.  Stay away from McDonald's for the next few weeks until all the Chipmunk toys are gone.  Those little talking plastic mice make me want to S-C-R-E-A-M at the top of my lungs!  They are annoying, and my kids enjoy pressing their buttons nonstop so they sound like scratched and skipping Chipmunks' CDs!

Now, where was I?  Oh yes...  My OTHER vent.  Why are people so catty?!?  Seriously, why is it so hard to be supportive of your friends or even people who are necessarily your friends??  I'm not talking about just sticking-your-foot-in-your-mouth comments.  Lord knows, I am the world's WORST at that.  Any hurt feelings caused by my big, fat mouth are purely unintentional, and I am always apologetic.  No, I'm talking about full-blown soul crushing negativity. 

Really...  Losing weight is so freakin' hard!  It really is.  I had so much fun putting it on, but I'm paying now.  I know this!  I'm also well aware of how hard it's going to be to get my body back in shape.  Hell, I'm 43 years old; gravity and my metabolism are both working against me.  I know I can't just have a few Slim-Fast drinks and POOF!  I'm wearing a size 6 again.  I'm a realist and a pessimist all by myself.  I certainly do not need anyone else to beat me up.  I already do a pretty good job of that myself, thank you very much.

In retrospect, I bet karma, my number one hater, is biting that junk in my trunk again.  Although there is no malice in my intent, I'm sure I've crushed a soul or two.  If you are reading and are still pissed at me for something I said, please, please, PLEEEEAAASSSEEE accept my sincere apologies.  And if you are a hater reading this, BITE ME!

Raise Your Hand If You're Old and Fat!!

It's official.  I am old and fat. 

While waiting for the shower to warm up, I always get my clothes out for the day.  Nevermind that I do this in the nude and have to watch myself pass by my extremely LONG bathroom mirror to get to my closet.  Sorry for the visual, but ANY-way...

This morning, as part of my usual shower ritual, I went to my closet for something to wear.  While hunting, it occurred to me that everything towards the end of the closet has an elastic waist!  Since the end of the closet is closest to the door, the clothes in that area are those which are worn most frequently.  I have to laugh so that I don't cry because elastic-waist pants have always symbolized old age to me.

Mind you, my pants are still stylish (I think); they're mostly yoga pants.  However, they still have elastic in the waist!  I've finally gotten to the point where a zipper and a button are just too much work.  My once taut tummy is now more like a big, soft pillow making anything other than an elastic waistband very uncomfortable.   Ahhh...so now my wardrobe consists primarily of pants and skirts that do not bind. 

What's next?  Orthopedic shoes for my aching feet?!?!  If I start bedazzling everything in the closet, have me committed IMMEDIATELY because I've turned into my grandmother.  The woman never wore orthopedic shoes, but she did cut small slits in the sides of her Keds to keep her bunions from hurting.  I remember laughing at her until my side hurt every time she wore those crazy shoes.  If I'm not mistaken, she bedazzled them as well.

It just pisses me off, really, because I am the same age as Demi Moore and even younger than Valerie Bertinelli.  I bet neither of them have an entire wardrobe of elastic-waist pants.  Hell, they both still wear freakin' bikinis to the beach!  I, on the otherhand, have recently invested in a Mommysuit.  Ya know the one.  It's a one piece suit with so much spandex in it that you have to refrain from drinking while wearing it.  Pulling it down to pee is absolutely out of the question. 

My wardrobe observations actually produced an epiphany.  Why don't I get off my big, fat ass and fight mother nature??!!  I don't have to wear elastic.  Demi and Val (we're JC buddies) don't!  Hell, I've been sparing with mother nature for some time now by coloring my hair and using sunscreen.  Why don't I quit with the sissy punches and spank that ass?!?!

As a result, I've set myself a goal.  By the time we get out for the summer, I will have lost 35 pounds.  I will SCHEDULE (have to or it won't get done) my workouts and will go a minimum of three days each week.  Once I've reached that goal, I will buy myself a BIKINI and actually wear it!  I know it sounds crazy for an old lady like me, but I am not scared.

It's AMAZING what a little sunlight can do for your attitude...

Signs from God

I think God keeps sending me signs. I know He works in mysterious ways, but I've never really been a witness to His work. Don't get me wrong; I'm not looking to get struck by lightning. I know He does great things through prayer and faith, but I've never felt that he was speaking directly to me. Until now...

Call it Karma, call it God, call it Order in the Universe. I'm not sure what to call it, but I've always been a believer that nastiness towards others will only lead to even greater nastiness to oneself. Take my daughter, for example. She is my difficult child. She is stubborn, hard-headed, persistent, too smart for her own britches, contrary... I'm sure many of you are grinning as you read. I know, I know... I just described myself. This is exactly my point. I dished it out, and now I'm getting it back from my own.

This is what I mean by God and His signs. Or maybe God and his way of aligning the cosmic energy??? Ya see, I am obsessed the way people look! I am forever comparing myself; and, I am miserably falling short, to say the least! Seriously, I have so many friends who look freakin' amazing! And not just amazing for a 40+ something either! I'm talking Demi Moore HOT! In fact, many of them look better than they did when they were younger. I cannot get over how well they've aged.

Now to me... I can't complain about the wrinkles because I think I've been blessed with pretty good genes. I have a few crows feet and a small furrow on my brow, but nothing serious. I'm fairly satisfied with my face (although my neck could use a little LIFT!).

It's my body, though. Or their bodies, I should say. Honestly, scrub-board flat at 43 years old??? Are you kidding me? Oh, not me -- no, I definitely do NOT fit into that category. But some of my friends do. I have one friend who has a picture of her in a bikini posted on her webpage. She's actually OLDER than me. I think she's 44 or 45 years old!

I recently found another who could seriously do Bow Flex commercials with Chuck Norris. Her body is definitely far better looking than Christie Brinkley's. Flat abs, incredibly toned legs and arms, nice and perky boobs, beautiful white teeth... I could go on, but I won't. Let's just say that I will not be standing next to her in any reunion pictures.

I know folks are probably getting tired of hearing me whine about how out of shape I am. Hell, I'm tired of my whining! But I feel so hopeless! I've gotten so out of shape. No amount of exercise and dieting can help me. Besides, I don't want to be 84 before I finally get down to a size 6 again. I want to have a good body RIGHT. NOW!!!

Sorry for the rant... The ADD kicked in. Now where was I? Oh, yea. I think God is repaying me for all the times I made fun of fat people. God doesn't like ugly. He didn't like me being such a wench. This is my punishment. I'm doomed to be the fat friend among all the pretty, skinny bitches.