I Look So Good Today

I do. I look great today and I overslept and didn’t even shower. It may be only for today but for today, I am rocking 47! I am not going to take a photo and post it because  the camera puts on 10 pounds and then I will be disillusioned with my self-perceived cuteness.

I am wearing the necklace that Derwood gave me for my birthday and it is fabulous and it looks fabulous.

I told Deren how great I look today even though I haven’t showered and he said, “Sure you look great but you smell like an old rug.” Wow. Really? I think sometimes he even surprises himself.

This morning as I lay warm and comfy in my bed, I could hear the birds singing. The birds are singing! Ack! Grab my phone, it’s 6:40!! I’m supposed to wake up at 5:50! That is why there was no shower this morning. Luckily I’m 47 and old age is drying my skin and hair out so I don’t need to worry about shampooing my hair every day. I think it also means that it’s time for a real moisturizer not just the quality brand from the grocery. Luckily I had really oily skin as an adolescent, it has delayed the aging process which I try to tell my kids but apparently it is little consolation when you’re 12.

I overslept this morning because I muted my phone last night at a movie and forgot to unmute it. Trisha of the Impeccable Taste took me to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof at the Hollywood Theatre. February 27 is Elizabeth Taylor’s birthday (I missed hers by one day but I do share a birthday with Jackie Gleason, which makes more sense.)

The resemblance between me and Jackie is clear.

The showing last night was a fund raiser for DaVinci Middle School and Cascade AIDS Project put on by Liza Wilding, Dame Liz’s granddaughter who is a Portland native and still lives in Portland. Who knew?! Well I’m sure plenty of people but not me. So I sat in the row behind Liz Taylor’s granddaughter so I’m not only looking good, I’m fairly famous.

The fete included little cupcakes with violet frosting (“because of her eyes”), an alum of DaVinci who’s now in NYC “off off off Broadway” and looks a bit like Buster Poindexter, a tribute from the granddaughter, and the movie. The cupcakes were tasty and the granddaughter (and great granddaughter) were sincere and charming. So that leaves us with Buster. Buster has a deep rich baritone. He took the stage and sang “Get Happy” while a slide show of the EVER beautiful Liz Taylor ran on the screen. Do you know this song? It’s a great song, made famous by Judy Garland and while this may seem counter-intuitive, it’s a happy song. Trish noted correctly that he sang it like a dirge while reading the lyrics from his lime green Iphone. It was odd. Buster then sang “How Great Thou Art”. Another favorite of mine and Elvis souled that song (get it), Buster just never let it rip. Important party tip: if you want to see my sister Katie lose her shit dancing let her get a couple of hours of drinking in and then let fly some Elvis gospel music.

For the finale, he sang “Happy Birthday”, and was able to make that sound weird, too.

As for the movie, I had never seen it before in its entirety. It is really good and Liz and Paul Newman are beautiful. Really beautiful movie stars. Did you watch the Oscars on my birthday? I did and I have some comments. The internet has been full of stories about Angelina Jolie’s right leg’s behavior on Sunday. One story is about how “furious” she is at being mocked. Here’s the thing Angie, if you don’t want people to make fun of you…don’t exhibit bizarre posing behavior during global broadcasts. And can someone puhleezzzeee write an article about WHY she did that?! What in the world was she doing? And another thing Ang, have a sandwich. Have an extra large steak sandwich with lots of cheese and mayo on it.

I would love to have such a sandwich but I won’t. I had my birthday weigh in and I am down a total of 8 pounds!

Damn I’m good.

PS no malice toward the real Buster Poindexter/David Johansen, whom I really dig.

Of Sensory Movements and Superheroes

I’m turning into a 47-year-old on Sunday.  I gained a half pound this week, which should not be surprising since I had this for dinner during Whidbey Weekend:

Ribeye photo courtesy of Maggie

That’s right, that is a 32-ounce bone-in ribeye steak, barely cooked, seared so it was crusted on the outside and bloody red rare on the inside! I didn’t eat the whole thing because I am so dainty and the menu clearly said it was for 2 so I let Deren have some, too.

I have lost a total of 7 pounds since starting my diet on January 3. I guess that’s pretty good. I bet it will get even better if I start to exercise.

My friend, Danni and I went Bollywood Dancing last night. We both had on workout clothes because it was a Bollywood Dancing class not just a night out on the town Bollywood dancing, which is what my sister thought I was doing. The Evite for the class clearly stated that the class started at 7 and ended at 9. Danni and I arrived at the Studio at 6:50 p.m.  The studio is a heavily incensed and draped space, it is a “sensory-based movement practice”. The smell was overwhelming, not if I were going to have a foot massage but for working out, the air felt burdensome. The rather imperious receptionist asked if we were there for Bollywood and we said yes, because we were. She told us that the Nia class was just getting out and the Bollywood class would begin at 7:30. Hmm.

What should we do? I didn’t want to disappoint Danni nor did I feel like sitting there for 40 minutes when I could go home and get in bed with a good crossword puzzle. Danni made a very good point that we really only had a couple of minutes to slip out before someone who knew us showed up and then we’d have to stay. So we got the hell out quickly. We did have to climb five flights of stairs to get there and we took the stairs to the 3rd level of the parking garage so that’s movement.

The studio’s website says, “sensory-based living as a pleasurable way to achieve lasting health, wellness and fitness.”  We mock what we don’t know, right? So yes I am mocking sensory-based living.

Danni also gave me a beautiful silver cuff bracelet for my birthday. She bought one for herself which she told me I could borrow if I’m ever doing any role playing and I’m Oh Mighty Isis.

Speaking of superheroes, while on Whidbey Island last weekend, I found this comic book in an antique store.

Super Pope image courtesy of Sister Margaret Mary

Just in time for Lent! And if you look at it closer, you can see Pope John Paul II spring into action with his Popian Cape on!

I’m just begging for a seat in hell.

Ash Wednesday and Whidbey Weekend

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday the first day of the Holy season of Lent. Christians around the world observe the next 40 days in preparation for the the Easter feast and to celebrate the forgiveness shown by God by sacrificing His only Son for our sins.  For struggling, inattentive Catholics like myself that means, “how will I let myself down this year?” I was going to ignore Lent this year or maybe try to get my ass to Church one of these Sundays but instead I have given up Diet Coke for Lent. Holy Hell what have I done?!

I. Have. Given. Up. DIETCOKE!!!

I will be wandering in a Diet Coke desert for 40 days and I brought it upon myself by telling Annie if she gave up Facebook, I would give up DIET COKE. I’m on the verge of scratching my own face off and then will move on to the faces of my coworkers, especially the one who just told me while sipping her coffee, “if it bothers you this much, you probably should be taking a break from Diet Coke anyway.” She’s Jewish and she’s giving up meat for Lent because she thinks it will be “fun”. Leave it to a Jew to define deprivation as fun.  She also said that she had to eat the sausage she has for lunch, and she’ll need to eat meat when she’s in New Orleans next week, and…. I told her, “Welcome to Catholicism.” We Catholics are full of qualifiers.

Whidbey Island

For Christmas my boyfriend and Gift Giver in Training (he gave me the coat that started this whole mess) gave me a weekend at the Saratoga Inn in Langley, Washington on Whidbey Island in the Olympic Peninsula or I think it’s there. It’s up in the northwest of Washington in the Puget Sound. I just looked at a map and I think it’s an island between the Olympic Peninsula and the mainland of Washington.  Anyway it’s a four hour or two Diet Coke drive from Portland, although it seems like much longer. Have you ever driven with someone who’s a horrible passenger? Who is jumpy and squeaking out advice every mile of a ride? Who flinches every time a truck drives by or the median seems too close? Who grabs at the door or slams on the passenger side brake all the time? Don’t you hate that? I know Deren does but he is very patient with me.

We (meaning Deren with the constant help of my advice on his driving technique) drove for hours up I5 and then we had to take a ferry over to the island. Deren also had to deal with my fear of drowning in a shipwreck for the approximately 12 minute ferry ride. He reassured me that I could swim if need be and that there were plenty of life jackets on board. And to his point, we were never out of sight of land.

Whidbey Island was featured in the February issue of Sunset magazine. I ripped out the article on Whidbey Island weeks ago when I first received that particular issue. I kept the page out on the kitchen counter and showed it to Deren so we could discuss all the great things were would do on our Whidbey Island weekend.  The #1 thing the article said to do was to “Gaze at Land and Sea” by taking the Bluff Trail 3.2 mile hike.

THE Bluff Trail from flickr.com

I packed my Merrell hiking boots that I have used once a few years ago to go snowshoeing, which I really enjoyed. Deren and I planned on going hiking on the Bluff Trail. Sure the plan was foiled a tad when we arrived and I realized I had left the Sunset page at home on the kitchen counter. No matter, if the island was featured in Sunset magazine, the natives must know about it.

Deren talked to the front desk lady at our B&B and she told us where to find Double Bluffs. It took a lot of driving around and one failed hike attempt at Trustland Trails (please see photo below)

Us hiking, you can see trees in the background. (Photo courtesy of Deren)

I wore my hiking stuff and I looked cute. My problem with hiking is it’s just walking in the woods so you see a bunch of trees and a dirt path and moss and rocks. We saw a big pile of horse hockey, as Sherman Potter would say but we did not step in the hazanga as my father would say. If I want to walk in the woods, I can do that at home. Tryon Creek is steps away.

After first failed hiking attempt, we found Double Bluffs which was double stupid. This is Double Bluffs which is not where we meant to go but it’s where the woman sent us.

Double Bluff beach from seattlepi.com

I guess this is pretty if you haven’t seen beautiful northwest beaches before, like the one below that I’m not identifying cuz I don’t want everyone going there, okay!

Beautiful Beach courtesy of Lisa Smith

So the bottom line is I don’t get hiking.  I just don’t get it. I’d prefer to walk somewhere where I could see pretty homes or shops that have things to buy in them (some people call that sort of hiking “shopping”. Tomato/Tomahto.)

Panic Order

I don’t think I mentioned in my last blog that on this week’s Weigh In Tuesday I lost 1.5 pounds which brings my total weight loss to 7.5 pounds! That made me so happy that I had a patty melt and fries for lunch on Tuesday.

Today I had a lunchtime panic which didn’t do my diet any favors. I was out picking up my contacts, hadn’t brought lunch so I had to pick somewhere to go buy lunch. I chose Burgertown because they have Gardenburgers and sweet potato fries, which would at least be healthier choices than a Quarterpounder with Cheese and medium fries. I don’t go to Burgertown  often so I assumed they had Gardenburgers and sweet potato fries.  I went to the drive-through and because I am not familiar with the menu, I was frantically searching for the Gardenburger and sweet potato fries while the woman on the speaker was asking me what I would have.  There’s no Gardenburger or sweet potato fries. There is something called a Spicy Anasazi Bean Burger and a Yukon & White Bean Basil Burger but those seemed rather intimidating. I panic ordered a Seasoned Turkey Burger, which now that I have eaten it I realize anything with that much mayo on it was not a healthy alternative. And the sweet potato fries? That’s a seasonal menu item and apparently that season is not now so I had regular potato fries in the regular size. I should have asked for small but I didn’t know if they had small and I was kind of freaking out and ultimately I agreed to whatever the woman on the speaker suggested.

This fast food lunch got me thinking about my dieting strategery and I have a plan. My sister Molly and wundernephew Matt are coming to live with me for a couple of months while their new house is being built. Molly hates the state she lives in so much that she needs to just get out of there. (I’m not naming the state because I don’t want to offend any of my readers who might live in Texas.)

My strategery is twofold:

1. Molly is a vegan
2. Molly is bringing her TRX straps or something like that.

I will eat more like Molly and do the TRX workouts that she is having her trainer write up for her. Molly says if we do the workouts, we will be flitting (she said “flitting”) about in no time. Thinly flitting about is what we will do. Molly’s tiny so I’ll just copy her. When my sister Katie and I lived together it was an intense, months long competition to see who could make the most yummy fattening food using the 4 food groups Cheese, Cream, Salt and Red Meat. The competition included subcompetitions in who could eat the most and who could drink the most alcohol. We didn’t flit.

Katie has since moved to Denver (Colorado not Illinois) and she loves it. She is currently temping at a hospital in the facilities department. She takes calls from people asking things like, “Can you send someone up here with a set of vice grips or something, we can’t get a nail out of a patient.”

I’m telling you about my sisters because I have nothing. I’ve only blogged once this week and I can’t think of anything else to write about and it’s rude to write about nothing because readers will be sorely disappointed and stop visiting my blog and I will lose my 7s of followers.

I have some interesting things coming up. Derwood and I are going to Whidbey Island this weekend. Something interesting could happen up there. I believe we are going to go on a hike that I saw featured in Sunset magazine.

Me. Hiking. Yep.

Next week I’m planning on going Bollywood dancing with my friend Danni. I don’t even know what that means but as a blogger, I need to be open to new experiences. Hiking. Bollywood dancing.

In March Derwood and I are going to put on our sophisticated intellectual pants and attend a talk on “The Egyptian Revolution: What’s Next?” by Colgate President Emeritus Thomas Bartlett. I could give the speech, you know what’s going to happen next? The Muslim Brotherhood is going to happen next and they will foment more hatred of America. I could have given the talk but they didn’t ask me. I also really want to see their apartment because it is in a LOVELY building that I have always wanted to go inside.

So while you are waiting for me to write something, anything interesting; check out this blog by a guy who makes me feel like a loser for even thinking of labeling myself “blogger”.  http://thegoodgreatsby.com/2012/02/17/pop-some-champagne-for-my-new-domain/

He is such a great blogger, he is bloggitudinous!

Red Flag and Other Notes from the Weekend

I’m very happy to report that I have been offered a job to blog for money. I don’t know how much money but remuneration of some sort is coming my way. I’m an auction junkie and have chaired many of them for my daughters’ schools. Now that I’m working full time, I don’t have time to put on an auction. However, I am friends with the auctioneer I have used for so many years, Kelly Russell and I clerk for her from time to time. I sent Kelly a link to this blog and she wants me to write her blog and her newsletter! Yay for me!

If you want to send up an immediate Scarlet Red Flag to WordPress …. title a post “Paid Blogging”. And then step the hell out of the way! I didn’t know this, I’m glad I was told this and the WordPress people are really nice. WordPress and payment do not, I say NOT, go together. No posting anything that you are getting paid for, Just Don’t Do It.  Important safety tip. It was never my intent to post content that I was paid to write. OK well it kinda was but the point of the “Paid Blogging” post was to ask this community of writers, how much should I charge for such a service? I don’t want an hourly rate because that would require me to track my hours and that could be hard. I’m thinking I will charge some amount of money for entries which require me to attend an auction and another amount of money for blogs that are purely educational, event planning tips, etc.

My siblings offered these suggestions for compensation:

• One meelion dollars (Molly)
• 30. 30 blog units (John)
• 7. (Katie)

If anyone out there has better suggestions than these, I would greatly appreciate hearing from you.

At no time, will I post anything I have been paid to write. Rejoice! You are getting this content for FREE!

Hollywood Issue, continued.

I watched Moneyball last night. It is a very entertaining, well-acted movie. I dig baseball movies. I preferred it to The Descendants. I guess I haven’t seen many movies with Brad Pitt in them because I’m fascinated by him. He’s very funny. I am deeply confused by his relationship with Angelina Jolie which is none of my business anyway. I have discovered that I really enjoy his movies. Or the three that I have seen. Moneyball probably wouldn’t be in Oscar contention in a better movie year than 2011 but I like it a lot for this year.

Stupid (Strange) Things My Boyfriend Says

Deren (boyfriend and biggest fan of mine) and I took  the dog for a walk yesterday afternoon. I was telling Deren about the previous night’s auction and my new blogging gig. He said, “I told you you would be famous.” Thanks honey but I don’t know if this actually qualifies as famous. He said, “There are varying degrees of fame. I didn’t say you would be Sally Jesse Famous.”

Ummm, whhuuuttt?? I’m not going to be Sally Jesse famous?! I’m not going to be as famous as Sally Jesse Raphael and have red glasses? What the hell am I doing this for if I’m not going to be that famous?! This is bullshit. Dreams dashed. Ego deflated. I will have to look for inspiration and motivation elsewhere for I am not to be Sally Jesse Famous.

This is not how famous I will be

Proof of Emu

In January I wrote about weighing as much as an emu only to find that I’d be lucky to weigh as much as an emu. Today I found the photo of the emu trying to pull my sister into its cage back in 1977. And I have figured out how to use my scanner. So this is a big win for everyone.  I’m the one with the cool blue shirt on and scabs on my nose.

 

Tonight I start my new Paying blogging gig. I will keep my 7s of fans posted.

My Diet — The Hollywood Issue

I don’t know if I mentioned this but after eating and drinking my way through San Francisco last weekend, the scale showed I had lost a half pound on Weigh In Wednesday! I have lost 6 lbs. since January 3!

My weight loss tips:

• Drinking at least 64 oz of water a day is making my recent “fluttering bladder” diagnosis a bit more distressing. Middle age (if I live to be 92) is raining indignities upon me….fluttering bladder, whiskers, gray hair and acne. It’s a good look if you can get it. Oh but drinking the water helps with weight loss, too.
• I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter – Lite tastes like butter. It isn’t difficult for me to believe it’s not butter but it’s good fake butter.
• Measuring and recording everything is important for dieters.
• I bet a good exercise program (or an exercise program) would really kick this weight loss thing into gear!

While we are on the topic of eating in San Francisco, which we kind of are or we were up in the first sentence, if you are in SF you should try Annabelle’s….iceberg lettuce wedge salad, eat it! Get a Panini at the Sonoma Cheese Factory (I needed a lot of cheese after Day 1: Night). They also have free cheese tasting and one of the cheeses had lavender in it which Kitty thought tasted like eating sachet. I wish I could remember the name of the place we had breakfast on Sunday. I had crab cake Benedict and it was rrrrreally good. It’s a bistro next to the St. Francis Hotel.

I just TODAY figured out that St. Francis and San Francisco are referring to the same guy.  I’m not the sharpest cheese in the fridge.

I think now is a good time to mention that I love Tripadvisor. I review everything. Tripadvisor is another opportunity for me to complete things, to record and measure things. You may read about that obsession….here. I review restaurants, hotels, Disneyland….if I’ve been there, all of cyberspace is entitled to my opinion.

So enough of blogging about what I said this Blog was about.

On to the Oscars. I have some concerns regarding the 2011 movie year and I can no longer keep them to myself. I don’t think it was a very good year for movies. I love movies. I don’t love all movies. I am a critical movie watcher and rarely go to the theater to see a substandard movie or an action movie or a Smurf movie.

These are the Best Picture nominees for the 2011/2012 Academy Awards. I don’t know which year to reference. The movies had to be released in 2011 but the awards are in 2012. Google shows it both weighs. Both WAYS, (gahhh enough with the dieting!) Anyway, this year’s nominees:

The Artist — Haven’t seen it. Don’t really feel like seeing it b/c it’s a silent movie. It’s probably the Academy showing how avant-garde they are. Oh that crazy Academy.

The Descendants – I did see this. And I liked it. It has George Clooney in it and I almost married a guy who bears a striking resemblance to George. (See previous post featuring said fiance). Right, okay back to The Descendants, good movie, good story. The problem is George Clooney and I love him. Unfortunately in our media blitzed society, we know too much about movie stars. I know George Clooney isn’t a father, I know he doesn’t ever want to get married so I kept thinking thoughts like,

“I wonder if he was embarrassed that Elizabeth Canellis went on Dancing with the Stars?”

“What is she a star of?”

“Isn’t his new girlfriend on Dancing with the Stars?”

“I think the real stars were on Battle of the Network Stars back in ’77.”

Thinking all of those things distracts me from buying into George as a husband to a woman in a coma and the father of two girls. I think the movie would have been much better with a no name actor. And I sort of feel bad for actors like George or Julia Roberts for example. They are too much. I can’t watch them act anymore because they are just them, I can’t get past their celebrity to appreciate the character they are playing.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – haven’t seen it. The reviews weren’t that good. I read Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer who also wrote EL&IC (that’s what we in the industry call it.)  I didn’t care for Jonathan’s writing. There’s a good chance I’m just too dull to appreciate it, he’s publishing books that are made into movies so what the hell do I know?

The Help – Loved the book, Loved the movie, Love it all! It’s not often a movie lives up to the book on which it is based but this one did. You know what movie was better than the book? Bridges of Madison County. Book was a treacly bunch of melodrama but the movie was really really good.

Hugo — Didn’t see it. I wouldn’t mind seeing it,  I just haven’t.

Midnight in Paris — I loved this movie, too. It is a lovely, magical movie. A couple of my friends didn’t like the choice of Owen Wilson. They thought he was too whiny (not winey like me). I disagree. He was the Woody Allen character and Woody is a whiner. I thought Owen was charming and funny.

Moneyball — I have this dvd at home from Netflix and will watch it this weekend. I recently saw Burn After Reading. Brad Pitt is a funny guy. I don’t get his taste in women but he is funny.

The Tree of Life — Uh, no thanks. But clearly a hell of a year for Brad.

War Horse — Sigh. This is a really pretty movie. I love Steven Spielberg movies…I’m such a nut that Saving Private Ryan is a comfort movie to me. But really? This is a pretty movie and the acting is fine but it could have been written by Danielle Steel.

I also just watched The Ides of March thinking that it had been nominated for best picture which it wasn’t. It’s a good movie, I suppose I need to research the Ides of March reference to fully appreciate the film. I fully appreciated seeing George Clooney and Ryan Gosling for 90 minutes. I heart Ryan Gosling and I have since Remember the Titans (LOVE that movie).

I think Christopher Plummer is nominated for his role in The Beginners. The Beginners is a very fine movie that no one who has lost a loved one to cancer should ever EVER see. Clearly the guy who wrote it has gone through cancer with someone because he got it spot on which resulted in my sobbing almost hysterically (yes like the gasping can’t breathe steadily kind of crying in the theater) and the wonderful, empathetic Deren stared at me in pain and dismay till I yelled at him to leave me alone. You can see why he loves me so much.

So my point is that I greatly enjoyed many of these movies but this is the best of the best for 2011? Do these rank up there with “Gone with the Wind”, “Lawrence of Arabia”, “Godfather I and II”, “Schindler’s List”, “Apocalypse Now”, “Casablanca”, “The Kings Speech”?

And I can’t believe Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy wasn’t nominated but if there is justice in this world Gary Oldman will win an Oscar.

OK. I’m done.

Caketacular San Francisco Weekend – Day1

Once upon a time there were four very smart, very funny, very charming and independent girls who went to a magical place called Hamilton, New York where they could study at the prestigious Colgate University. Three of the girls Judy, Kitty and Lucy all lived in the same dorm freshman year. Serendipity did not strike until their sophomore year when they met the fourth girl, Maggie. And they all drank happily ever after.

Day 1: Day

Fast forward 28 years to present day. The Cakes (so named because their Colgate intramural “sports’ team was dubbed the Muffincakes) are having a semi-annual weekend reunion in San Francisco. Maggie (me) was very happy because I (I’m stopping the annoying fairytale language) am the lone West Coast Cake and usually have to fly for 7-8 hours to get to a Cake reunion. Friday morning, Deren of Rail Thin Boyfriend fame, drove me to the Portland airport. There was only one false start when we got a couple of houses away and I realized I had left my carry-on bag at home.

Derwood got me to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I checked my gigantic suitcase (thank you to ever-generous ex-husband for loaning it to me) and made my way to security. The line was very long but moving steadily. While standing in line, I noticed a man in front of me wearing a black jacket with white satin letters on the back that read “Fruit of Islam”. I looked on Google for a photo of a similar jacket but didn’t find one. I did find this:

I love Cary Grant.

Anyway, the Fruit of Islam jacket also had a crescent insignia on the front and the guy was wearing his Fruit of Islam baseball cap. I rushed into action, texting my siblings to let them know what was going down right in front of me. One sibling bet that FOI man would get no extra security screening and the other let me know that Fruit of Islam is the male-only paramilitary wing of the Nation of Islam and still a third sibling asked why I was at the airport.

Sibling 1 (Katie) was correct FOI man just sailed right through security and may paramilitary allah (Sibling 2 Molly was also correct) be with him. You know who didn’t sail right through security? The 60+ year old woman in front of me in line and her husband. She printed out her boarding pass and it cut off one of her initials, so she got sent back to the airline counter at the front of the airport. That seems reasonable. You can’t be too careful with all those older lady suicide bombers. I’m glad the TSA was on the job. Call me a profiler, just don’t call me late for dinner.

I also sailed through security without having to take off my jewelry so that was super exciting. I bought a sesame bagel with cream cheese (dieting shoes had come off). I put the bagel in my bag and made for the ladies restroom. I’m almost 47 years old and I have been toilet trained for a couple of years now so it’s not much of an adventure when I go to the bathroom. I did the usual thing (#1) and stood up and heard something hit the water and I knew nothing should have been hitting the water. Turn. GAH! grab boarding pass just before it lands in toilet and realize driver’s license and debit card are in the toilet. I stick my arm into my own urine and grab the cards and then just stand there for a minute not sure what to do. Automatic toilet flushes, thankfully not taking my ID with it. Sometimes it IS an adventure when I go to the bathroom.

Great. This is great. I’m holding my debit card and ID that are wet with uh you know, boarding pass was saved and is in my bag, must figure out getting pants up and disinfecting cards. I wiped them off and then washed my hands and then put hand sanitizer on the cards. I didn’t know if I got them wet washing them if they would be ruined and knew I would look like a freak if I did it in an airport bathroom. The stupidity of that thought was brought to my attention in SF by Cake Lucy.

Lucy and I meet up in the airport and take a cab to our hotel. We get to the hotel, check in, I give the front desk guy my toileted debit card. And we laugh very maturely at this sculpture:

Once in the room, Lucy points out to me that of course I can wash my driver’s license and debit card. They were wet in urine and they’re okay, soap and water shouldn’t hurt them. Probably something I should have figured out on my own.

Day 1: Night

The time is August 1992, just seven short weeks before I am to marry M***. Don’t even try to guess his name and it’s not Mitt. M is back East visiting family (or his college girlfriend, now his wife). Reality of the situation comes to light, M returns to Portland, we break off engagement, much tears and then he disappears never to be heard from again. His family won’t tell me where he is, he left most of his stuff in the apartment he shared with my brother. Poof! Gone. That was one hell of a diet!

If I am ever this thin again….something VERY bad has happened.

October 2011, I find M on Facebook and we correspond. He lives outside San Fran so I’m going to meet him for drinks and git me some answers. I meet him at Bix and we have some cocktails and talk and laugh. It was as if we had just seen each other not more than 19 years ago.

When I was in my 20s I never worried about back fat or being fat. If I needed to lose weight I’d eat broccoli for a week and the weight would drop off me. I never worried about whether my hair covered the lines on my forehead. I didn’t worry about mortgage payments or college tuition or my children’s happiness. Nor did I realize that Time truly does heal. I was too young to appreciate just how brief our stay is here on earth. But now at 47, my laugh lines can’t be hidden, sometimes my knee gives out for no reason at all and I have a hair that grows out of my chin.

Now at 47 I am able to see that M hurt, too…it wasn’t just me. And my years have given me the wisdom to realize that we all have to experience painful relationships to learn to value the right relationships when they come along. At 47, I can appreciate the beauty of genuine forgiveness and the importance of old friends. Not to mention old friends that bear a striking resemblance to George Clooney!

The night was wonderful. The rest of the Cakes met up with us. I was eventually “poured” out of the car. And that’s really all there is to it, nothing else, I certainly didn’t throw up or anything. Nothing to see here.

Reminder:

Tomorrow is Weigh In Wednesday but if I don’t like the number I’m going with Weigh In Thursday or Weigh In Friday…I must recover from the Caketacular.

Have You Heard the One About

the Dieting Woman who goes shopping with her hormonal teenage daughter in preparation for Dieting Woman’s upcoming super fun trip to San Francisco? You don’t want to hear it. I went into the shopping trip expecting to get teary while trying on clothes. As it turned out I really felt like crying in sheer frustration from dealing with aforementioned 14-year-old, aka Annie.

Q: What is worse than shopping with a hormonal 14-year-old?

A: Nuclear Armageddon.

Q: What is better than shopping with a hormonal 14-year-old?

A: Most everything, including stabbing yourself in the eye with rusty scissors.

I knew immediately she was in a mood and I get that. I was 14 once, a really long time ago and I drove my mother insane. I gave Annie the option of staying home, she didn’t have to come but she wanted to. “No, it’s fine, I want to go shopping.”

Driving to the mall, I take her cell phone because I think it’s rude to sit in a car with another person and do nothing but text someone else, someone you probably just spent the day with at school. Phone removal greeted with tortured sigh and shaking head.

Arrive at mall:

• “Are we going to eat dinner here?” No, as I mentioned, we are here to shop and I don’t have a lot of time.
• “My throat really hurts.”  In Annie’s defense, there is a good chance she is getting sick.

Annie is a very good Sherpa and followed me around carrying the clothes I wanted to try on. She is also keen to point out very cute clothes, many with horizontal stripes, that would make me look like a brightly colored sausage or like I was almost to term with my third child. I mention to her that those clothes might not be that flattering for me. Tall, shapely, pretty Annie says, “oh I know, I just think it’s really cute.” (For someone shaped exactly like Annie.)

I don’t know why but Annie wants to join me in the dressing room. Macy’s is a complete bust because of my giant bust and the side of fat.  I throw all the clothes that don’t fit me and are marked size L ( which is all of them) on the bench in the dressing room and stomp off.  I know I have been losing weight (Remember today is Weigh In Wednesday!). I visualized this meager but motivating weight loss resulting in my suddenly being shaped a lot like Keira Knightley. And I could wear cute jeans and a little sweater like she did in “Love Actually”. I’ve been dieting for a month! Helloooo, I’m now supposed to be a ridiculously thin, 25-year-old British woman.

Me After Just One Month Dieting

I leave Macy’s in a snit (I don’t know where Annie gets her attitude) and head for the Gap because I have a Gap card.  I find a bunch of stuff to try on there including this hot pink trench coat that does NOT look good on a 5’3” Dieting Woman.

Hot Pink Coat for Tall Thin People by The Gap

I also tried on this shirt in a medium.

Maggie is Not Pictured Above

I don’t know why I thought I was going to fit in a medium. The XL looked huge but a medium?  Annie is in the dressing room with me and I try on the medium and I am completely bunged (that’s “bunged” with a soft g) up in it. Annie says, “Don’t turn around!” Too late!  I turn to look in the mirror and the shirt is so tight it has shmooshed my boobs down and they almost look boxy, I’ve never seen anything like it. Ick, no good. I take the shirt off. Oh wait, no I don’t because once I get it pulled up over my boobs, it stops. It’s stuck under my arms and around my shoulders. I tell Annie to pull it off me but she can’t, she keeps telling me to straighten up  my arms but I can’t get them all the way straight because my shoulders are constrained by the medium size shirt. I start to panic a little. I sit down on the little dressing room ledge seat and Annie tries again and again. I fear we are going to have to cut the medium shirt off me.  One more time and we get it off! I buy some black shirts which are perfect for Dieting Woman. And we leave.

Cruise through Macy’s on weigh, I mean “way” (paging Dr. Freud)  to the parking lot and I get these cute boots.

Not much news but I needed to preface Weigh In Wednesday with something. Drum roll please…

I lost 2.5 lbs last week! Woo HOOOO!! I lost 5.5 pounds in January. Which explains my uncanny resemblance to Keira Knightley.

Next up: Dieting Woman and Friends take San Francisco!!!