No Thank You, I'm Still Full From Dinner

If I have a panic attack whenever I look at my bathing suit, I can only imagine how the bathing suit feels. I feel like I should kiss it before I try to squeeze in.

I am no where near as svelte as I thought I would be by now. It is not my fault. I am being sabotaged. Every time I go to the Wii to work out batteries are missing from the controllers. I find it hard to believe that in a home with multiple electronic devices and a pit bull, someone keeps getting in and stealing only the re chargeable batteries from the Wii remotes, one or two at a time. Why? Why would someone do that? Don’t they know about the bizarre band of fat around my mid section? If they come back I’m gonna show it to them and traumatize them for life. Talk about scared straight. Pretty sure they will be scared gay. Flamboyantly gay.

I usually ask both offspring where the batteries are, and am met with blank stares like this is the first they are hearing about us having a Wii. Then I make a sarcastic comment to each of them and stomp around muttering to myself about ingrates and my body mass index.  I’m a big jiggling mess. Cranky too. We mustn’t forget the cranky. I need to get this weight off me NOW! None of my fat clothes from last year fit me.

The kids also started seeking out other places to eat so I had to start being a bit more kid friendly again at meal time and its really damn hard to try and find a balance with what I am trying to do with food and what they will willingly consume. On what planet is a black bean taco fun OR delicious? And why put random greens on everything? Kids hate leaves. I can get mine to eat spinach quiche but if I put a baby spinach leaf on their plate there is instant mutiny. Why must raw veggies be so gross? Please don’t suggest dip. My kids don’t do ketchup, ranch, plum, sweet & sour or BBQ. Only gravy. I wonder where they get that?

If I switched to some kind of raw food diet, they would both starve. I would be thin and bitchy and they would be on the floor with flies on their faces and totally ignored plates of sprouts and edame within reach. People say kids will eventually eat anything once they are hungry enough. Not mine. Hell no. They would come up with some kind of shepherd’s pie getting scheme or die out of spite. The night that I made egg plant the boy miraculously found a friend who was having pizza, with meat on it, and the girl made herself Kraft dinner, with cut up hot dogs. I love it. I try to go healthy and they go right for the white trash casserole.   

It is very discouraging to spend 20 of 30 minutes of cooking time chopping vegetables and fresh herbs only to find most of them picked out and on the side of the plate later. My new trick of adding bacon to every vegetarian dish does gets them to eat it but totally defeats the purpose. Its not their fault that so many grains and vegetables taste like shit and bacon hides that with sweet smoky piggy goodness.

I have been told many times that the whatever super food that tastes awful of the moment is an acquired taste. I have to ask, why on God's green earth would I want to acquire a taste for moldy ass? So I could live a few extra years and enjoy a few more bowls of assy goodness? No thank you.

An ex once requested I lick his butthole. When I declined on the basis of having taste buds he assured me it was an acquired taste. No thank you. Not even stuffed with bacon.

Done With the Minor Leagues

Back in March I was OK with the minor changes that had taken place in my body since I started making an attempt at eating and generally being well. WELL. I'm not okay with minor anymore.

I am taking full responsibility for having been a total sloth. I tried, sure. I tried. In a most half assed way. I got on my Wii yesterday for the first time since I weighed myself on March 9.

I did the body test and am 2 pounds heavier than I was last time. I am also physically 48. I know some pretty sexy 48 year olds. Its too bad I know damn well they are not who Fucky the balance board is talking about. Bitches. OLD bitches.

Considering my exercise has been dog walks around the neighbourhood and occasional jaunts around Lily Lake, I guess I am lucky I did not gain back the entire 8 lbs. I have been using weights and doing arm stuff but that is only because I noticed my armpit fat and near died of shame. ARMPIT fat. Say that to yourself a few times and see how you feel. I've got some un fucking lovely lady lumps let me tell you. You want boobs? I have a them around the circumference of my torso. Bon apetit.

So here's the deal, I'm getting my body back if I have to pry if from the chocolate coated clutches of the Dark Lord himself. I am starting a project.

I subscribe to a few magazines. My favorite is Real Simple.

I'm going to throw myself into LIVING the magazine. At the end of another couple months I will see if I have made my life and my body better or wasted a colossal amount of time. I am pretty sure I will be dragging the people around me into this. There is NO WAY I will be able to test all this stuff out on my own, I hope no one kills me before I see some results.

The official start day will be Sunday May 1. I will be doing the prep work today, starting with grocery shopping. This is going to be really weird as I will be using a list. Already, for something supposedly Real Simple, taking the time to find a pen, paper, figure out what you have and then actually bringing the list to the store AND looking at it sounds like a tremendous amount of extra work. I usually take a more random and drunk approach. Hate grocery shopping.

In the mean time I am going to eat a giant piece of my Grandmother's chocolate skor, amazing cake and go to sleep.

My Mother's Friends

I blame my inclination toward polygamy on my Mother's friends. Odd that this would be the impression I got from powerful 70s era feminists but it is.

You see, I was always surrounded by the most fabulous women. It is a true wonder I'm not a lesbian. They doted on me in the coolest ways. I was shown my first September Vogue and Our Bodies Ourselves in the same week. I told how brilliant I was just as often as I was told I was pretty. I was encouraged to play dress up and I was encouraged to fight the power. In heels.

I was taught that being a woman in this world is risky business so don't bother playing it safe. Go where the boys go and walk like you have a switch blade in your pocket.

I don't recall being surprised by Thelma & Louise, that was how the women around me were as far back as the early 80s. All in their 50s now still forces to be reconed with.

I was taken to demonstrations on Parliment Hill, every embassy you can think of and marched many a picket line. I was also brought to Holt Renfrew and many a restaurant with many forks. There seemed to be a team of women around me at all times. I loved that.

I learned to jive and do the Time Warp and slam dance in the living room. I learned to love dancing and my body know matter what condition it is in simply because it is MINE.

I saw good women leave bad relationships and I learned from that. I saw good women loved well by good men and I learned from that too.

The women who surrounded me may not have been sister wives, but they taught me the meaning of sisterhood. Of solidarity and of raising children to be good people, to love life and who they are. To be strong and fight for good. Most of all I knew from go that other people love me.

The best thing of all about my Mumma's friends is that as I grew up they stopped being Mumma's friends and became mine.

My Ding-a-Ling

I think I have a penis. A ginormous pink penis. He has nice round balls. Balls that you can't resist getting handsy with. His name is Brent and he is the most likely culprit for my failed relationships.

Brent has no patience for straight dude shenanigans. He makes me say things I swear I never would on my own. He is a bit of a drama queen and does not like to be ignored. He likes things his way. Brent initiates power struggles. It's not me it's my penis.

This excuse never seems to fly.

Brent causes confusion. He enjoys boobies so occasionally visits an establishment where the staff prefer to not cover theirs. Sometimes our date thinks this means we are open to adding a guest star to that evenings performance. Not so. Brent gets freaked out by the Bat Cave. Boobies cute, rest of it.... Brent just. CAN'T eww its too awful. Honey get Brent a mojito, will you?

Brent gives me terrible advice sometimes. I can appreciate what he says about fashion, home decor and how to land a man, its once we have the man that our opinions differ. My first instinct is to be feminine but not too much and to be cool. Brent grabs people's junk and well, acts like the power top he is.

I try to only to to HomeSense when Brent is napping. He came with me on a girls night to the dinner theatre and we were all politely asked to leave. Brent was over excited and they just kept bringing him wine. Totally their fault.

Brent is responsible for most of my impulse purchases and random acts of ass grabbing. Not me NO. All Brent.

Brent likes surprises. More accurately he likes to surprise people. Sometimes the surprises are well received. Like the orchids he picked out for Mom's birthday one year. They were a good surprise.

Others well,  just ask the guy Brent violated  surprised with glittery mauve anal beads. That vibrated.

 Brent, in papier mache

Lenty Goodness

Spiritually speaking I would say I am a Catholic Jedi Hindu Buddhist Pagan Jew. I have taken all the bits I like smushed them together and found my spot in the Universe. I'm comfy in it now and not fearful of what comes next. I know that being an asshole will make what comes next, dead or alive, considerably less comfy.

My Mother is a 7th level Atheist ( I have no idea what that means exactly I just need to emphasize how atheist she is) so I never got to Sunday school and all that. However she believed in Socialism and Trade Unionism so I did get to spend lots of time on picket lines, at demonstrations, going to regularly scheduled meetings and generally learning how to be nice to other people, to share and be kind to the less fortunate and if your in power not steal and kill.

Being raised around non believers I did a few things, believed even harder out of spite and youthful rebellion, read about other belief systems, observed the world around me, and drew my own conclusions.  Attending Mass I observed that church is prettier, more comfortable, smells nicer, you still pay dues and its equally as boring as a Union hall, I preferred church.

To be honest I think I enjoyed shutting up and listening and not having to argue so much. The overall lessons appeared the same.

I concluded that people will believe in something and subscribe to that system of morals and behaviour, will turn to the company of like minded people for a feeling of community and to further the goals of the something they believe in. God and religion gets substituted with something else off the menu of human beliefs.

One of things I like and choose to believe in and follow is giving up something for Lent. A period of fasting or what have you is pretty common across the board. I have decided it must be good for you. (Yes yes I see the obvious flaw in that thinking and not being a moron I would not apply to everything they have in common.)

I am giving up chocolate and soda. I would say sex but that is given these days and I shan't discuss it. I really really really really want to live alone in a cave with like chocolate and soda, specifically the worst kinds for you, Coke and Pepsi, any Cola really. I enjoy sitting down to a giant Lindt chocolate anything. Cadbury, your my everything. Pepsi, Coke, what will I do when I'm thirsty? Drink water? nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

So  you see for me Lent is the yearly intervention and cleansing my body needs. I also find that at the end of it I'm less prone to over indulge in what I gave up. It does kind of suck while its happening but I still would prefer the 40 days of lent to say colonic hydrotherapy with the results being about the same depending on what you give up.

I like the timing of Lent and that it ends with Easter. I enjoy Spring and all the ancient celebrations that go along with it. I like the fairytaleyness and the pink and yellow chocolate bunny & eggy weirdness. I like the sexiness and earthiness of the rebirth of the world. I like that we try to suffer just a little bit in the dead of winter before we indulge in Spring. I like trying to keep my body in tune with the rhythm of the seasons and the planet. 

 And God knows I love any excuse to bake a ham.

A Minor Epiphany

I have decided that by deciding to set a bunch of goals for myself in January I was setting myself up for failure. Therefore I am absolving myself of any responsibility for the outcome so far, celebrating the steps I did take, and then starting fresh for the Equinox March 20th.

I think the whole system of New Year's Resolutions is flawed. January in the northern hemisphere is quite possibly the worst time to resolve to do anything except get out of the northern hemisphere.

I did try and I did succeed in my little way. I am down 8 pounds and have managed to at least hold steady at that for about a month. Keep in mind I pretty much stopped moving unless absolutely necessary so that's pretty damn good I think. Bubbly for me.

I started out really well. I did yoga every day and felt AMAZING. Yoga for me is the be all and end all of exercise. If you have never tried, just do it. PVR, TIVO, YouTube, Wii, whatever there are yoga lessons available in the privacy of your own home that you can try for even ten minutes at a time.

I personally, cannot do yoga in a gym setting. There are way too many mirrors and I get distracted my own ass. I just can`t do it. However, when its just me, my Wii and Dirk (what I named my Wii trainer) I am a yoga goddess. Or according to the Wii stats,a Yoga Trainer, myself.

What is great about yoga is that 10 minutes a day can really make a difference. If not a big dramatic change in your body, at least a minor but miraculous change is mind set and posture. Believe it or not standing up straight and not looking miserable makes you look 10 pounds thinner. Not looking like you hate the world is worth 5 pounds on its own. 

The first benefit of quickie yoga is that you are dedicating 10 minutes to yourself. Most folks have no problem making or finding 10 minutes to smoke or grab a latte or have a wank, do the same for yoga. Only ten minutes, no fancy outfits or shoes, you don`t need special mats or crap. Seriously. In a pinch, a towel will do if you really are slacking off and can`t bare to touch your own floors. 

Pop supper in the oven, give the counters a wipe, wander to the room the media you`re using is in and go.

Get out of bed 10 minutes early and do 4 poses in your jammies, underwear or nude, whatever just get out of bed and greet the sun.

Ladies, if you have a man who could witness your morning routine, do him a favor and wear something. Unless you want to be late for work. No man can resist a naked downward dog.

I also made big changes to my eating. I will not say diet because I believe diets are the biggest single cause of blue balls of the soul in the world. Blue balls of the soul cause misery and bitchiness. Therefore diets are to blame for the increasing number of miserable bitches out there. Diets are evil.

I firmly believe in some degree of moderation and by really thinking about portion size and ingredients I have managed to lose weight at a good pace while exercising, and now that I stopped it has helped me maintain that loss. Even while putting bacon in, on and wrapped around everything that will hold still to be baconed.

The single most effective change I made was switching to dinner plates with a smaller serving area. I also try to make dinners that will have useful leftovers instead of meals that I will feel I must eat every morsel or they will go to waste. If I know the chicken will be  used in tomorrows stir fry I am less likely to scorf it down at 11pm.

I buy tons of produce both fresh and frozen. I plan to use the fresh at the beginning of the week and the rest toward the end. This keeps me out of the stores and away from those sweet sweet impulse purchases.

I eat a crap load of yogurt that I make sure is full of active bacteria but I don`t make a fuss about fat.

So I am definitely ahead of where I was in January when I started this Blog and that is good. However I still feel like I have a long way to go but I`m not beating myself up about it. I know where I was derailed, or actually let myself be derailed because I wanted to be.

I got lazy and tired I admit it. I let work and sloth suck the life out of me. I am proud of myself for keeping up with eating well. It would have been really easy to give up and I didn`t. I mastered a lower fat gravy that is delicious. A triumph in itself.

Happy Upcoming Equinox to me.

A Brief History of My Hair

"Picnik Show"

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More To Love

I wanted to make this photo totally honest. Just me in my bare natural beauty. You would be surprised how much preparation and editing goes into that.

I couldn't do it without mascara. For some reason mascara = a shirt. I tried heels. I felt overdressed but somehow right. I tried hair up and hair down.( There will be entire future pages devoted to my hair and our relationship so for now lets just say it was an off day.)

It was hard to smile. Appearing semi nude in front of at least 4 people is apparently more serious than I first thought.

I stopped myself after a total of 4 minutes and 37 seconds of footage then took stills from the video then cropped and rotated and black and whited and agonized over what I had in front of me.

Its my nature, any woman's I think, to want to automatically put up the one in which I look thinnest. That is totally the opposite of what I am trying to do. I want to show whats really going on under my clothes and thin is not it.

I'm 5ft 9 and 168lbs. I'm 34, I've had 2 kids and since squeezing out the 2nd pup my weight has been up and down from 130 give or take to about 165. I have gained about 25lbs in the past year or so. No real reason. I chose my two favorite sins, sloth and gluttony, and we spent some quality time together. No big deal. Just 15 months if bacon wrapped lounging.

My official measurements as of yesterday were 42 32 42 which in a way was sort of satisfying. I'm a perfect hourglass. If viewed straight on in head to toe black and you grew up in the 1940s its dreamy. From the side, less so. Naked, like a stone age fertility figure.

I can safely lay on the beach without Greenpeace showing up to put me back in, and I must say, my bosoms are fantastic. However, play time is most certainly over. I cannot reasonably expect to continue on like this without ending up with hellacious stretch marks and an eating disorder. Or having to shower by stapling a wet soapy towel to the shower wall and rubbing against it then using some kind of tool to get at the folds.

I'm going to try something revolutionary. I'm going to eat as well as exercise. I will not cut out red meat carbs chocolate liquor cheese or cake. I will start doing yoga and boxing again and I will take more turns walking the dog. We will not return from a walk  until we find treasure, a sunset, piece of sea glass, a picture of something unintentionally hilarious, proof we did something great for our bodies and souls.

I will not set a date by which I will meet my goal. I will not set a goal. I will not be ashamed or depressed or feel inadequate. I will be my own motivator, trainer, and dietitian. I will change my body without changing who I am. I will make myself healthier without depriving my body and spirit of things they love.

Most importantly, what ever the outcome, whenever I decide this is done, with or without the Buddha belly, I think I'm fucking gorgeous and I will continue to think I'm fucking gorgeous. That is all. Here I am.

                                                            The Empress sans Clothes.
　                                                           January 15th 2011