Should "Stick Figures" Get A Life?

Yesterday, an article from Marie Claire Magazine was brought to my attention.  The focus of the article was the new CBS show "Mike and Molly" and whether or not the writer found it offensive for people who are overweight to make out on TV.   Her answer??

"Yes, I think I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything"

One of my personal favorite lines is,

" Now, don't go getting the wrong impression: I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk."

Really?  And I bet your best friend is black, too.  (eye roll)

She went on giving advise to overweight people on how to lose weight:  Eat right, exercise, stand walk, see a nutritionist, visit your local YMCA, etc.  Make up our minds, sweetie.  I thought it would gross you out to see us do anything?  Would that not include us (and our rolls and rolls) on the treadmill or exercise bike next to you, sweating our asses off?  Let's face it, we fat people can sweat like nobody's business. 

At what point do YOU think a person is overweight?  Let's face it, Hollywood's standards and definition of overweight changes all the time.  Marilyn Monroe, considered one of the most beautiful women ever, was a size 14/16. Jean Harlow, a sex symbol of her time, was a size 12. Compared to Angelina Jolie (who is a size 6) poor Marilyn and Jean would be considered "fatties" nowadays.  

I don't understand why the show "Mike and Molly" is just now stirring up this controversy.  I don't remember any of this being a problem when the TV show "Roseanne" was on air. 

Remember them?  They actually kissed each other, hugged, made goofy inuendo's, flirted and found each other sexy!!! Oh, and don't forget-- they devoted almost an entire season to Dan and Roseanne trying desperately to have another baby.  =O  THE NERVE!!!  I loved this show, it was REAL. 

The fact of the matter is-- Overweight people are just as deserving of love and affection from others. Furthermore, we are deserving of wearing the same clothing styles as the skinny little bitches who so glumly look down their nose at us.  Quit getting prejudiced advice from movies and magazines about how you should feel beautiful.  Have you ever seen some of the people who are dishing out this crap?  Eeek Gads! 

I don't know, maybe this writer is jilted because her insanely hot boyfriend dumped her for an obese woman who had a better attitude.  Then again, I just read  her bio which states-- 

 "Though she's in her thirties, she's never been in love before - and has started to wonder if she ever will be. She's decided she has to start making dating her job if it's ever going to happen. Hence, this blog."

(Guess what Maura!!! You probably didn't help your dating issue with that glowing personality)

I have said it before-- Happiness should come from within yourself, not from outside sources. And certainly not from magazine writers who are so desperate to date that they resort to blogging.    That includes being happy with your body.  If you are happy in a size 16-----???  Then be friggin happy!  Why listen to these people who point out every last flaw until you are miserable about yourself?  If you have someone who loves you insanely despite your dress size-- BE FRIGGIN HAPPY!!!!  and for the love of all that is holy.. enjoy being with someone who is not closed minded, egotistical, pessimistic and juvenile.

She-Ra, Cooking Warrior

Today started off to be a good day.  I woke up in utter silence.  My sons are at their dad's for the summer, so that meant I didn't have to wake up to anyone fighting, arguing or antagonizing.  And best of all... I got to sleep in until 8 am!   And I remembered that this week is the last week of physical therapy for my "Franken-foot" which made it even better!  I was looking forward to my appointment today, because I really wanted to address this swelling issue that's going on.  For anyone who doesn't know, I had ankle and calf surgery almost 3 months ago.  Fun times.

Since I had a few hours of silence, I decided to do my facebooking because let me tell ya.. Cafe World is serious bi'ness that should not be taken lightly.  I had stuff cooking in there!  Which made me think... I should drag out the stock pots, make some beef vegetable soup and do some canning.  Because I am She-Ra, Cooking Warrior.. Protector against famine and hunger.

Physical therapy kicked my butt, yet again.  And again, I was told to stay off my feet as much as possible and put ice on it.  Yeah, that's gonna happen.  I realize that my physique may look like I sit on my ass all day long, but I really don't.  

I'm too old for this crap. And I got to have a wonderful convo along those lines with my best friends son about it...

It's so nice when even your 18 yr old "nephew" knows that your body is a clunker.

But, I still managed to drag out the stock pots and make the soup.  Come hell or high water, I was gonna do this! So, I broke out my crown and trusty sword ladle and got to work...  35 jars later, I ran out of canning lids.  Craaaaap.  That required me to return to the store to buy more lids, which required me to walk around... more.    

I was going to make fajita's tonight, because of course, I am invincible!  On my way home from the store, I hit the Taco Bell drive-thru because cooking again = Hordack (if you wanna know who Hordack is, click here).  And I felt drained of my super powers.  

So, here I am with forty jars of soup and a foot and ankle that is worthy of the nickname "Franken-foot".  

Tomorrow.... I am canning spaghetti sauce.

Sweet Home Indiana

I went to Florida with Tim last week and had my trusty camera with me.  Only this time, I was in my "alter personality" form, and wasn't looking for the breath taking pictures.  Instead, I found humor and horror outside my little corn fed state of Indiana.  

I think I am scared of most southerners.

So, we cross into Kentucky and suddenly I look over, see this sign (I wish to God I would've gotten a picture of it) and I had to do a double take because it said...

Seriously.. not even I can make that up.  I looked at Tim, said "What. The. Hell??" and he darn near spit his drink all over the windshield.  I'm not sure I wanna know what a "used" cow in Kentucky is exactly. 

Anyhow, I really don't remember a whole lot of the rest of the trip to Florida.  Mostly because I was still thinking about the whole used cow thing.  It really concerned me.  But, while in Florida I did get to visit my brother who has affectionately nick-named me "Franken-foot" because my foot and ankle was so swollen from the ride down there.  He took us to Ft. Meyers beach and I fell in love... right up to the point where either the water or the food didn't agree with me.   Either way, I think my insides liquefied and evacuated my body.  On the plus side-- while in the restroom cursing the water, my brother did take a breath taking picture of our view on the beach.  

Wednesday, we had to go to Miami.  I am a horrible passenger driver.  It took 2 hours to realize that my passenger brake does not work-- no matter how hard I pushed on the floor, no matter how much I wanted it to work-- it didn't. I also learned that Tim has road rage issues and I should probably hide the guns.   I would like to take this opportunity to say... YA'LL CAN'T DRIVE!!!!  When you are driving down the road, and see a BIG HONKIN BLUE SEMI... Do not believe your inner voice that says, "You can cut them off.. and you will win".

And it doesn't just stop at cutting off big semi's.  Ya'll cut each other off too!!  

And then. there are those who either talking on their phone or decide they would rather sit in traffic because this is what happens

 On our way back home, I saw this one..  I don't remember what state we were in when I saw this sign, but I had to take a picture of it.. Not because it was as disturbing as, "Used Cows For Sale", but because if I didn't remember that I was in the south, this reminded me of that fact.

It made me thankful that where I'm from.. we don't have stinkin creeks.

Now this one.. MADE MY DAY!  So, we are tooling through South Carolina and this is my view out the window.. 

First thing that hit me when I saw the shirt and towel flying around in the wind???  HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY!!!!!  Then,  I wonder why he is wearing his shirt like that? I mean, didn't he think ahead that maybe it would fly over his head and cover his face?  (Welcome to the inner workings of my mind) 

Finally, I received a sign from God (I think it was in North Carolina)..  and at that point, I knew that I would be okay.

The rainbow is God's promise to us that He will never destroy the earth again by water.  I took this rainbow as a promise that He would never subject me to idiots in the south again. 

Because That's What Friends Are For

Last night I was informed by an old friend that she peed my pants.  Now I am left here wondering Did she really pee my pants??  Is that where my one and only favorite pair, that actually fits went?? (I thought maybe the dryer ate them since it seems to eat my socks too)  Or is she referring to the saying, "Friendship is like peeing your pants.Everyone notices but only you feel the warmth.  Thanks for being the pee in my pants."

Either way I am friggin offended!!! 

Reason #1- She decided to drive the 3 hours to my house, in the middle of the night and didn't wake me to actually say, "HEY FREAK!!! I'm here!!"  And STOLE my pants.. AND PEED THEM!!!  

Reason #2-  She is comparing me to warm human waste.  

Way to go Piff.. Now I am paranoid.  Like I really needed one more thing to add to my mountain of paranoia...  Does this make me look fat?? How's my hair??  Makeup?? Where are my pants??  Did someone break in and take them again??  Do I smell of urine??

Good thing I have an appointment with my shrink tomorrow.. I was starting to worry that I would have nothing to talk about.  

I need a Gypsy ASAP!

I think that my 15 yr. old son, Nate,  has put a curse on me.  It is possible since I woke him up at 11:30 last night to ask him why he's not doing his classwork, and then to tell him that I may not allow him to go to his Semi-Formal tonight.  He's not a happy camper.

While I was putting clothes in the washer, my phone started ringing.  I heard it--but as usual, I assumed it was the usual bill collector or telemarketer.  (Which now that I think of it, I am on the Do Not Call Registry... Why are telemarketers calling me again?)  Anyway, I decided to check the Caller ID and message later, until I heard the school Principal explaining that there was a slight mishap with my 12 yr. old son, Jax.   Slight mishaps with a child who has a broken wrist is never a good thing.  So, I ran quickly gimped to get the phone and in doing so, I forgot to hurdle the vacuum cleaner that was sitting outside the laundry room door, which resulted in me kicking the crap out of it with my toe.........  on the foot that I had surgery on.............  I think it may be broken now.

I did manage to get to the phone in spite of not being able to see past the blinding pain.  Jax is fine, but does anyone know a gypsy who can remove my sons curse from me? 

Desperately Seeking Red Dress

 Last week, I walked past the full length mirror in my bedroom and I had to stop in my tracks, take two steps back and have a good look at myself.  My eyebrows are so unattended that before long, I will be able to carry on a conversation with them.  I was wearing my husbands t-shirt and shorts, because, I have neglected to buy myself  clothes that actually fit me.  And my hair... Well, let's just say that I don't "rock" the ponytail like I used to.  Gray hairs do not cooperate, nor do they like to stay in place when pulled back.  I basically looked like an escaped mental patient.  Once again,  I had put myself on the bottom of the "To Do" list.  

The past few weeks months, (okay) years,  I have said that I am going to make more "me" time.  Well damn it, I am finally doing it!  After the initial horror of my mirror episode dissipated, I remembered that my mom bought a gift certificate for me to have four spa treatments where I faithfully have my hair cut every 6-8 months.  I whipped that sucker out and made an appointment for a much overdue and needed facial. 

Then today, I was blessed enough to read the blog of Jenny (my hero)  who challenged women to find their red dress, and damn it,  I am going to do it!  So tonight, I bought this...

 Before you tilt your head and question if I lost my mind over buying a lighter, look again....

And even better, it's RED!!! 


Yep, it's pretty impractical, and silly, but it does serve a purpose, and it made me happy! 


Not only am I going to find more "red dress(es)", AND buy them.. But, I am also going to help my best friend/sistah Sherry, find hers as well (She is on her own when it comes to buying it =D).  Sherry is coming to visit me for a week this summer, and we have made a pact to have a "red dress" week.  We are going to take pictures of all the silly, dumb, senseless and non-practical things that we plan to do during her visit and we are going to post them.  No airbrushing, no "skinny" editing... Just us, as we are.  Because we ARE beautiful and we definitely deserve it.  

Teach your children well

When did it become kosher for kids to speak to adults as if they, themselves, are also adults?

If I ever.. ever ever ever caught one of my children speaking to an adult like crap, I would end their life as they know it.  Let's face it.. they just are not stupid enough to do something like that because #1.. they are too scared of me to do it and, #2. Because I have raised them better than that.  Which leads me to this... What the hell is wrong with these parents who allow it? And then they wonder why I don't like them, or their demon spawn children.  I have come to the conclusion that some people should have never been permitted to breed.

I am all for letting your kids express themselves... As long as it can be done in a respectful and non-destructive manner.  While you are letting your "precious prince/princess" express themselves around me.. I imagine myself stabbing you with a dull and rusty razor blade, purposely missing all your vital organs so that you die a slow and agonizing death.  

I will also add.. I am extremely protective of my kids. If you piss on them, you will see a mama bear that you will wish you never rattled.   Perhaps I am a little too protective of them, but I at least give a crap.   But, because of it, all 3 of my kids know they can come to me with absolutely anything-- free of fear or judgment.  And that, to me, is completely awesome. 

So... parents-- Teach your children well.. At least if you are going to subject them to me at any point in their life.