It's been 7 years since my Mother passed away and 4 years since my Dad's been gone. I still wave to them however, everytime I drive by the cemetery, telling them I love them and miss them... just in case they're floating around in the atmosphere or something. Besides, why pass up a chance to say hi to them?
I certainly miss my Dad, but I miss my Mother just a tad bit more, I think. It must be a "girlie" thing, although it was Dad that I was supposedly most like. In the meantime, I now have LOTS of important things that belonged to my mother. Yet even more important, I have all the incredible lessons she taught me by way her of example. If ever a daughter wanted perfect training on how to run a home on every level possible, boom. Go to my mother and watch how she did it. Plus, she wasn't lazy like me. She cooked, she baked, she knitted, she sewed, she entertained, she used professional alone stand alone ironers, she dressed with great taste and she took care of her family 24/7. She had integrity and dignity and beauty and refinement. Well, unless she was busy telling you a really filthy joke. No wonder... she also had a fantastic sense of humor.
Anyway, it was Claudia who was closest to Mom probably because they were like two peas in a pod. I was more like my Dad. I'm not as patient as my Mom nor do I abide by every rule as she might have. If I feel telling a little white lie will put me in better stead, then hell. I'm happy to do so without hesitation. Without guilt, too. Talk about survival techniques. Both my parents were very generous and I am too. I had a fantastic childhood and my sister, brother and I always felt loved and secure. I didn't always feel understood mind you, but don't forget... I was the middle child, so therefore cut me a little slack.
In the meantime, last week was the anniversary of my Mother's death. Which seemed as perfect a time as ever for me to take in my Dad's gold watch and have it fitted for MY wrist. As in: remove three links and start wearing it. I also have my Dad's solid gold monogrammed lighter AND my Grandfather's, too. Although I use neither, I have them both displayed in my dining room china cabinet. I love my Dad's best however, since it's way flashier and larger than Grandpa's. So up my alley.
Anyway, I picked up the newly sized watch yesterday and let me tell you...IT'S STUNNING. Solid gold, made by a luxury manufacturer, and apparently is not your run of the mill watch. In fact, when I took it in, I had no idea of whether or not it was REALLY solid gold. Nor did I know the value of it. It didn't matter. It was my Dad's and I love it. Oh yeah... I also love his black and gold Timex watch, too. Regardless... I now know the worth, thanks to Chris, the jeweler.
Thus, am I ever in a major dilemma now. WHO THE HELL CAN EVEN WEAR THIS WATCH?? Yes it's beautiful, but once the jeweler told me the value of it, I TOTALLY FREAKED. Huh?? I was hoping to use this as my everyday timepiece, for God sakes. But uh... now... I don't see how THAT'S going to work. I'M TOO SCARED I'LL LOSE IT. Indeed, there is a double protective type clasp but really... one little moment of being out an about and bingo. If ever it falls off without my knowing it... whoa. Goodbye a hefty bunch of thousands of dollars. What is THAT all about? I can't even imagine how devastated I'd feel if I left the house with it on, only to return home without it. I almost feel like I need to put a tracking device on this piece of jewelry. The hell with my car... WHERE'S MY WATCH??
Which only means that as of yet... I've never worn the watch out of the house. Damnit. I would LOVE to make this my everyday watch but geez... is that even SMART? On the other hand, since when do I let intelligence be my only guide?
ICY
Oh man... have I ever had a week of suffering. As in: pain. As in: dental pain. Geez... I can't even believe it. Right this minute is the FIRST time since noon last Tuesday that I'm actually feeling spiffy again. Well, almost spiffy. But SO much better than before.
Turns out I went to the dentist on Tuesday to have a filling in one tooth and a temporary crown put on the one next to it. Way towards the back of my lower teeth, too. Which means: my mouth was opened WIDE for over an hour, I'll bet. Trust me... when my mouth is going to be opened for an hour or so, it better be for... well... uh. Never mind. Let's not go there. Suffice it to say that on Tuesday it was definitely NOT for fun and frolic.
Instead it was for subsequent pain. Oral pain, to be exact. Of course at that point, the pain didn't in any way keep me from my scheduled luncheon date, but no matter. The five shots of Novocaine were still ensuring my ability to eat just fine. BUT.... five hours later??? OMG... I wanted to shoot myself. I was already thinking: SHIT. I'M DEALING WITH AN ORAL CANCEROUS TUMOR, NOW?? In which case DEFINITELY shoot me now.
However, come to find out this pain was coming from EEEKS. A huge aphthous ulcer... better knows as a canker sore. Right on the side of my tongue, directly across from the area where the dental work was done. Talk about a one two punch. IT HURT. AND, IT HURT ALOT. By this time dinner wasn't even an option. I could hardly chew and when I did, I had to do so on the left side of my mouth only. Oh man. This was crazy.
Okay. So I lived with the pain for a day. Then, on Thursday I ran my ass back over to the dentist's office without even calling first. I basically said... OW! THIS IS KILLING ME. WTF IS GOING ON?? Btw, don't YOU bother going. The dentist will simply give you a numbing cream of sorts, which is fine. IF YOU WANT THE PAIN NUMBED FOR NO LONGER THAN FIVE MINUTES, that is. What kind of pain killer is THAT??
Well, certainly not the kind that the doctor at the Urgent Care gave me. He got right down to business, thank God. Turns out that by Friday I could see I was this close to heading to the ER since naturally, my dentist is apparently into three day weekends. Thus, his office is closed on Fridays. Which naturally brought me to what I consider one of the finest establishments in the city... URGENT CARE.
I love this place. It's an offshoot of the hospital... a little walk in clinic type place that helps people when lets say... their real doctor is into three day weekends, too. BOOM. You get instant medical care. Anyway, the doctor there took a look at my mouth and in no time at all, I had a script for not only an antibiotic but also for a pain killer. A REAL pain killer, I might add. Think: Vicodin.
Think it, btw, but don't necessarily take it. Unless, like me, you restructure the milligram intake. For no sooner did I get my prescriptions filled and the first dosage popped into my mouth then WHAMMO. My insides are speeding all around like a college kid trying to cram for his last final before graduation. I was like WIRED from this crazy ass drug. For several hours, too!
Until that is, I called Wilma. Three times, actually. She is my go to person for medical emergencies and/or diagnoses, given that in her past life she was an incredible sort of medical Switchboard operator genius. Something like that, anyway. You have a medical question? Boom. Call Switchboard. If Wilma answered, you had your directions and/or solutions right off the bat. Sure enough... bless her heart... Wilma had a remedy for me. TAKE ATIVAN and stop the speed. Take Ativan?? Wow. Really?? WITH PLEASURE. Thanks! I love that med. But more importantly, IT WORKED. Granted I had to take two to make the wired feeling go away, but man, did I ever sleep like a baby last night... thanks to my most fabulous darling of a friend.
So, here it is Saturday afternoon. I am SO much better, I can't even tell you. Met lots of friends for breakfast, ran a couple of errands, did some laundry and then settled down to watch a new DVD as I folded the clothes. Which pissed me off, since come to find out, my DVD player doesn't want to put out sound anymore. Don't ask.
So while indeed, I'm way better in the mouth department, I'm now pissed in the electronic department. Talk about Roseanne Roseanna Danna. If it's not one thing... it's another.
Six weeks ago, for the first time in 30 years, I made an appointment for a professional pedicure. I had to. After all these years, I just had to face the music and realize... eeeks. I can no longer bend over as easily as I used to, to work on my toes. Which you see up there in the picture. NEWS ALERT: if ever you see these tootsies sticking out from a body bag, boom. You'll know it's me. Or... WAS me. Anyway...
I broke down and finally let a professional do the pedicure instead of myself. Which is too bad since I normally love doing my feet here at home, about 10:00 at night, naturally wearing my favorite nightgown and sipping on diet coke. It's a whole big production too, because I use only professional tools, let my feet soak in lovely hot water and have a slew of under coats, over coats and nail colors all lined up, ready to go. All in all, I have basically every item known to man to help give myself one hell of a fantastic pedicure.
Eventually however... not only did I begin needing my special glasses so I could actually SEE my toes, but I also realized... this bending over for an hour bit, is going to basically break my back almost any day now. Whoa. Am I ever aging, but fast. And, to complicate matters, I am VERY particular about my feet. I like them to look absolutely spiffy 24/7. It's a fetish I have and I proudly own up to it.
So... given this new realization, bingo. I called Golden Nails, made an appointment with Kelly and yippee, I was on my way. In fact, Claudia and I made back to back appointments, so I had excellent entertainment during the appointment as well. So much so that we made NEW appointments for six weeks later. Man, I was in heaven.
Until that is... I realized my new appointment came and went! OOPS. One thing I know is that hand and feet operators do NOT like people who screw up appointment times! Besides, I couldn't beLIEVE I forgot I even had one! Especially since I'd been counting down the days until my feet would be treated to such luxury all over again. Yet sure enough, my brain was fried and the entire deal went completely out of my mind.
Until the next day, that is. I looked at my calendar and thought WHAT?? I MISSED MY PEDICURE?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? WHAT WAS I THINKING?? OH MAN... I SO HATE THIS. Where upon I immediately picked up the phone and began calling the salon, ready to apologize, ready to probably be yelled at, and then hopefully be ready to make a brand new appointment. Which would have worked well, if only someone would have picked up the freakin' phone!!!
How many times you think I called this place anyhow??? THINK: HUNDREDS. Over and over. Days and days. And STILL no one ever answered the phone. Which is when I decided.... EEKS. I've been blacklisted. Here's my take: they saw my name on caller ID, remembered I was the one who screwed things up and then made up their minds they'd never let me come into the establishment ever again! Thus... why bother answering the phone if the bitch ever calls back??
Trust me... I was just shy of being major intimidated. So much so that you won't believe what I did next. I was like on my 7th day of calling the place and still getting no answer. Bingo. I decided it was time to actually drive over and see just what the hell is going on there. In fact, I even brought some gift left over from the holidays... a canister of cookies... figuring if I had to bribe the people into forgiveness, yippee, I'd be all prepared. So... I get to the place, walking closer and closer to the front door and sure enough. There's a sign telling me: SORRY. CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. Come back on the 17th!!!
WHAT?? YOU DON'T EVEN TELL YOUR CUSTOMERS YOU'RE CLOSING DOWN?? IT WASN'T ME WHO FORGOT, AFTERALL? IT WAS YOU WHO JUST SHUT DOWN THE SHOP WILLY NILLY??? AFTER ALL THAT, I'M NOT REALLY BLACKLISTED??? Don't ask. I freaked. And, totally amazed that I wasn't given ANY heads' up whatsoever about this closing. Geez. Way to feel like a total idiot. Nice way of doing business don't you think?
Plus, when I finally DID call the place today, the receptionist had this rather cavalier attitude... Oh yeah. Sorry. We were closed. Chuckle. Chuckle. Now we're open. I of course felt like saying: Yeah. Well now you suck. But believe me... I needed the appointment way more than he needed a customer. Thus I held my tongue.
So, in the end I guess alls well that ends well. As in: next Monday at 2:30 I have an appointment. That's the first bit of good news. The second is: I now have not only a scheduled pedicure, but also... an unopened excellent canister of delicious cookies to enjoy. Talk about win win.
So last night, I watched the Golden Globe Awards. For the first time in many years, I might add. Oscars?? Always! Golden Globes? Never!
However, I do have to say I found it quite entertaining. I even loved Ricky Gervais' little comical quips. I also loved looking at all the fashions, which to me was the highlight of it all. Were I only 23 years old, absolutely stick thin and had then been discovered by some incredible fancy ass agent, I'd have had myself signed up as a covergirl supermodel in a heartbeat. I know... quite a few IFs going on there, but what the hell. Why not dream big.
I love looking at magnificent women, particularly when they are wearing magnificent dresses. I boiled the dresses from last night down to about four. Laura Dern's dress was stunning. Not as stunning however as Angelina Jolie's. Whose dress was not as stunning as Nicole Kidman's, though. Whose dress in turn, was not as stunning as Jane Fonda's. Although believe me... they were ALL extremely beautiful. If I had to choose the top two though... I guess I'd go with: Jane first, Nicole second. Oh yeah... and btw... I do believe that Nicole Kidman is perhaps the most gorgeous woman on the planet, but who's counting.
I do have a bone to pick with her however. And with Laura. Bone being the key word. WTF IS WITH THE AUSCHWITZ LOOKALIKE CONTEST?? I am serious... SOOOO DAMN THIN, IT'S SCARY. And, I'm not talking sour grapes here, either. I'm simply talking HEALTHY looking. Man... I have never SEEN such thin women in my entire life. I am astounded that no one loves them enough to say: JESUS. EAT! ALOT, TOO! YOU LOOK FREAKIN' EMACIATED!!
I swear... when these two came on stage I thought to myself... EEEKS. IT'S CONCENTRATION CAMP MEETS DESIGNER CLOTHING!! Honestly... I was bordering on: offended. No WONDER. I myself am a double digit in garment sizes. These woman are wearing like MINUS ZEROs. Actually, it's no laughing matter. I'm old, so who gives a damn what I look like. But for teens and young ladies?? IT'S COMPLETELY UNREALISTIC... let alone unfair. I mean... exactly what diet could you possibly go on that would promise you such a figure??? Oh wait. I know... it's called the STARVATION DIET. Eat as much of NOTHING that you can possibly eat. Man... water?? WOW. YEA. TALK ABOUT SPLURGING!
And, BTW... I don't buy that exercise can bring you to this totally unacceptable look. Not unless it's a 24/7 pastime AND mixed up with a dedicated no eating ever, policy. Granted, the really chubby lady who was in Bridemaids is taking things to the other extreme but at least SHE looks as if she could survive a day or two out in the wilderness. These Hollywood women on the other hand?? Man... they better become carbohydrate friendly immediately.
So basically I'm thinking: devoted purging is what is creating Laura and Nicole's stick thin figure. Believe me... had they had no breast implants to help round out the look, we'd be seeing sunken pancakes on top for SURE. I can assure you... healthy eating and a bit of SPANX is not responsible for tricking the eye into these imaginary feminine figures.
Bottom line: I frankly find it disgraceful to proudly tout such bodies in public. Yes, the dresses are absolutely magnificent... but to think that its okay for the female body to emulate women in concentration camps is absolutely deplorable. What could these women be THINKING? Even Marilyn Monroe was said to be a size 12. And she had SOME figure, believe you me.
So there you have it... my Golden Globes fashion critique. Just wait until the Academy Awards come around. I pray these woman actually become CHUBBY by then. Which of course, will help me to feel right smack at home.
TSDWND ISMYB AIDWTMAT
It kinda freaks me out how Google knows everything about me other than maybe the fact that I need to buy a new carton of Diet Coke tomorrow. And guess what? They know everything about YOU, too! There is now absolutely no privacy whatsoever left in our lives anymore.
I use Gmail and I use Blogspot and I use Picasa and I use Google Earth and of course I search on Google all day long. Given my adoration of these five programs... you can't iMAGine how much info they've collected on me by now.... and as I said... everyone else on the planet, too. J. Edgar Hoover would have a freakin' field day if he were still alive.
Google knows all the picture albums I have on the web. It also knows what the exterior of my house looks like and probably where my house is even located. It knows of course, every entry I've ever made on this blog and what REALLY gets me is that it knows every single email I send or receive. No wonder. It's all stored on their server, just like everything else in the world. Case in point:
Every time I get an email, Google knows exactly what the content is and accordingly, throws up banners of info that could be relative in some way. For instance... if the the subject of the mail is... oh... let's say PAINTING, boom. Next thing you know, the banner just above my email screen has the name of a suggested painting contractor in my area! Were I to receive an email that's discussing cookbooks, the banner would show me something about NUTRITION. AND, Gmail is kinda proud of the help they're offering to me! HUH?? Who the hell asked them to read my mail and then make suggestions for the banner ads?? Are you kidding me?? STOP READING MY MAIL, PLEASE.
Actually, I think that there is a way for me to turn off the banners but to me, that solves nothing. Google would STILL be reading my emails, but simply would not be showing the ads pertaining to said mail. Besides... who needs my mail? Google has, like I mentioned before, HORDES of info about me anyway. My house, my pictures, my cell phone info, etc. You name it, Google can grab it. I mean seriously... given the smart phone GPS app, Google can even follow me as I'm driving, for God sakes.
Which only means: having trouble reaching me? Want to know where I am in the city? Geez... CALL GOOGLE. They'll know. And, if they don't answer, call ONSTAR. Since I use that service too, should I ever have an accident or be in danger, their satellite ALSO follows my every move. Anyway....
It just blows my mind that nothing about me is private anymore. Hell... I think even WalMart has my social security number at this point. Probably my grocery store, too. Now what is THAT all about? I must be getting old or something since I'm now longing for the good ole days when the only privacy you REALLY had to worry about was whether or not your past boyfriends would ever kiss and tell. In my case, if they ever DID tell, I am praying they made up some really hot shit about me.
And I guess given texting, Twitter and Facebook even that is now up for grabs. A whole new meaning, I see to: my life is but an open book. Good thing I'm no longer job hunting, btw. God only knows what Human Resources could find. Which is why I worry for Generation X. Some of those kids could DEFINITELY be in trouble when they apply for jobs. OH, YOU WANT YOU WORK HERE? OKAY. BUT WAIT... WHAT ABOUT THAT PICTURE WE SAW WHERE YOUR FRIEND TAGGED YOU IN A PHOTO WHILE YOU WERE DOING DOPE?? Oops. Sorry. We can't hire you. We're a drug free business. During office hours AND during your personal time. Besides, we see according to your newest credit score, you're kinda in major debt.
Can you imagine? This whole deal is like getting out of control, if you ask me. I do however, love the app whereby a parent can follow a kid driving a car and knowing where the car is headed. Plus the parent can know if the speed limit is being obeyed. That alone would have spared me many a gray hair, I bet.
All I know is... this is a whole new world folks. God only knows what else Google has on me. Who knew I could become so important? Man... want to know everyplace I ever lived? Who my family members are or what all our ages are? Have no fear. It's all the internet. Which CAN be interesting sometimes. Try going to your town's online public records. Boom. You can find out what every person you've ever met spent for their home and whether or not they're up to date on real estate taxes.
As if I give a damn. Besides, when you start doing THAT then you KNOW you've got way too much down time on your hands.
PWA!
So when driving home from the dermatologist today, I was listening to the radio. And yes, I was listening to my alltime favorite, Howard Stern. Who by the way, is going to be your newest host on America's Got Talent, in case you didn't already know. AND, I'll bet he'll be great, too. But, all that is irrelevant for now.
While listening to Howard, I had to chuckle because as it happens, he was discussing a new app for your smart phone. The app has been filed for patenting by Microsoft and has been unfortunately dubbed AVOID THE GHETTO by some guy at CBS in Seattle. That name alone, made me laugh right out loud. On the other hand, it IS kind of a great idea, if you ask me.
I searched the app online to find out what it's all about yet I couldn't find what the REAL name of the app is going to be. But I DO love the concept. Apparently it's something that will become a new GPS feature and will help us avoid amongst other things, high crime neighborhoods. Especially as a pedestrian. Which for me is PERfect since I am so not into death or rape. And of course why it is such a major rub, since already, people are freaking at the potential for racism and the like. Which I totally understand.
However, let's say I'm in LA, driving around, having no clue whatsoever what neighborhood I'm in nor where gang members are most likely to be hanging out. If I had this new app it would be fantastic. Yippee. I can avoid a drive by shooting EASILY. While I get it that profiling is obviously not politically correct, I still kinda like knowing before hand what my chances are of being killed. I'd also like knowing where crack houses are most likely to be located. Boom. Thanks to this new app I'll be able to stay away from that location lickety split.
Which is precisely why I love my SEX OFFENDERS app so much. It tells me right off the bat exactly where registered sex offenders live so I can be sure not to take any kiddies around the area. I'm thinking Halloween, here. I know. Again, it's not politically correct, but I love the heads' up, nonetheless. Besides with this app, it also shows me what the offender looks like, his/her name, age, and just what his offense was. Shows you how sick I am btw, since I get a major kick out of checking out all the offenders no matter in what location I am. Doctors offices, restaurants, my friends homes, etc.
Anyway, in addition to supposedly steering you away from bad neighborhoods, I think AVOID THE GHETTO will also offer up other useful information like bad weather perhaps. Trust me... better minds than mine will be able to create great uses for the app than I ever could. I just know I'll probably be mighty damn grateful for the suggestions.
Granted, AVOID THE GHETTO is a little harsh for naming this new app. Probably so is THE HOOD. Which makes me think I wished Mr. Rogers was still alive. I'll bet he'd come up with a happy, friendly name in no time. As in: IFFY AREA maybe? Yeah, that's the ticket. We'd all get the message, but in a softer, gentler kind of way.
CYFTLT IIWWA
Tonight was a pretty interesting dinner in terms of fine dining. I loved it! It all began when Frieda and I were talking a few weeks ago about how we'd love to one evening, go to dinner and completely forego the entree altogether. In it's stead, we wanted: ice cream. As in: a banana split, let's say, at... sitting down?? AT DAIRY QUEEN!! Now in my book, THAT'S a fantastic meal.
Sure enough, next thing you know, in no time at all, we had about 10 others sign on for this exclusive dining experience. And, tonight was the night. We all hooked up at Dairy Queen at six thirty, got in line and ordered the best crap food you ever tasted. Now that I think of it... the men pretty much added an actual entree to their order, but not so much the women. Well, maybe they did, too... I can't remember exactly. Frieda and I stuck to the game plan as promised, however. She had her banana split and I had a small cup of chocolate ice cream. Soft ice cream, no less. SOOOO DELICIOUS. Okay maybe the word ice cream is stretching it a bit.. frozen chemicals may be more apt. But still.... delicious chemicals nevertheless.
It killed me by the way that I couldn't get what I REALLY wanted... a hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and nuts. But given this new diet plan of mine, there was just so far I was willing to push the envelope this evening. Hence, the small serving of ice cream. But it was perfect, nonetheless.
Which is one of the reasons I think that being this age is so perfect. The hell with rules. You basically get to do WHATEVER THE HECK YOU WANT, WHENEVER YOU WANT. I've lived a long time following rules, living for others, accommodating this one or that one... the list goes on and on. But NOW?? In my 60s?? Being that I'm heading towards the end of my life line, so to speak... I now get to finally enjoy most everything I love on my OWN terms. Sorta. Granted there are still plenty of rules I need to follow... like filling out Medicare applications correctly or making sure my estate planning is in place... but on the whole... I get to make lots of the rules as I see fit.
I love that I no longer have to worry about carpooling kids. I love that I can eat dinner at nine thirty if I want. I love that I can control the thermostat. Let alone the remote. I love that I can nap anytime my little heart desires. Basically, I love that I get to please ME as often as possible. Now THAT'S living. Maybe lots of others learned to do that years ago and thus maybe I'm a late bloomer. On the other I'm a fast learner. Once I got into this mode of f-ing what others think... boom. I was a quick study.
So okay... it may be six months before I ever have ice cream for dinner again, but it matters not. It will so be worth it. Just knowing I CAN if I so wanted, is pleasure enough. Ahhhh... the simple pleasures in life do indeed have it's rewards. Therefore....
Suggestion for the night?? SPLURGE SOME. Go out and live a little. Break a rule, if you have to. And, be glad you're at an age where very few will even give a damn what you do/don't do! If you're my age... you have definitely earned it.
ILTOTRAR... TKOMJSTS
I'm really pissed. Today I decided was the day I was going to give up my beloved high carb diet and actually eat what is GOOD for me. Let alone healthy. So not what I want to do. I am telling you... for years and years and years I have adored french fries, cherry cheesecake, ice cream sundaes, fried fish and ALL kinds of chocolate. Check out that pyramid up there. MY kind of food groups, indeed.
Granted, I've had my fill of lean meats, chicken breasts, roasted peppers, broccoli and carrots, and every sort of salad you can imagine... but please. THOSE can't even hold a CANDLE to my preferred carbs. True, the carbs are going to kill me, which trust me, is basically the ONLY reason I've decided I need to switch up my diet. Damnit.
Case in point: I was out to breakfast this morning. There were five others there. THEY of course are already way into eating right. In fact, get this... Vicky didn't even ORDER anything. Turns out two hours earlier she had HAD her breakfast. Uh... SO WHAT?? Since when does THAT matter?? Not even an English muffin? Toast with jam on it? Oh man... does SHE ever have discipline. Which naturally is going to be my BIGgest hindrance in learning to follow this new healthy diet plan.
And oh yeah... I am WAY more into feeding myself as you would a new born. As in: feeding on demand. And often. Uh... don't even get me started on portion control. How much do I hate THAT? As it happens, I have a large appetitite and have no problem whatsoever in making sure my plate is totally clean. Those starving children in China while I was growing up?? They'd definitely be envious of me. So anyway...
For the sake of the new diet, whereas I'd NORMALLY order: a muffin for an appetizer, two eggs, dry toast for the jam, grits, sausage, and a single blueberry pancake... INSTEAD... today I had to go with something I've never ever had before. EGG BEATERS!! Oh man... I can't even beLIEVE it. SO not like me. And, just so my poor plate wouldn't look so damn empty, I also had to order some grits and two slices of dry whole wheat toast. No jam on it, either! Talk about A WASTE OF A MEAL. But, yes... I survived. I wasn't happy about it, mind you, but I survived.
Not only THAT... whereas my usual bill goes into the double digits given my love of tasting lots of things, today my bill was maybe like: $8!!! WHAT??? Are you kidding me?? When's the last time THAT'S ever happened?
So basically, as I see it, not only will I become healthier, but apparently so too, will my finances. Reason enough you'd think to be thrilled about my new approach to food. But... uh... frankly, I'm not. Probably won't ever be, either.
IML ILYM
Oh man... did I ever get a peek into Girly Girl Heaven. You can't even iMAGine what a thrill I had yesterday. Five of us girls went to Charming Charlie's ... THE closest thing to a glitzy paradise you'll ever see, right smack here on Earth. I am telling you, if you've never been there before... GO! In fact, RUN!
I couldn't even exPRESS enough oooohs and ahhhhs and omggggggs as I walked in this store. It was nothing short of incredible. SO up my alley.
Turns out Charming Charlies is a women's accessory store. An understatement, to say the least. I had noticed it once, when walking towards the movie theater a few months back, in our most up scale-i-est shopping center in the city. I remember standing outside the window of the store, totally mesmerized by all the dazzle I was seeing inside. WHAT? WHERE DID THIS STORE EVEN COME FROM? HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN HERE? HOW HAD I NOT HEARD OF IT BEFORE? I'VE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN? HOW SOON CAN I RETURN TO EXPLORE THIS BREATH TAKING GARDEN OF GLITZ?
Okay. So as it happens, the store is HUGE. And, it's set up according to colors. You want ANYTHING blue? Boom. Go the blue area. Red is up your alley? Head over to red area. Only want purple? Get over to the purple area. Interested in pearls?? No problem.
Bingo. You get the picture. AND... they not only have about 42 million colors staged but also, entire sections of faux gold, diamonds or silver. You name it, they have it. As in: pins, hats, purses, earrings, necklaces, bracelets, wallets, tiaras, clothing, scarves, socks, ANYthing you can possibly imagine. As in: any accessory your heart EVER desired. And all magnificently filled with bling, no less. AND... nice and oversized, just the way I like my bling to be.
Naturally right off the bat, I headed over to the faux diamonds and gold areas. Those are my favorites. Silver? Sorry Charlie. That may have become THE metal to wear in the past five years, but ME? I'm sticking to the tried and true. Diamonds. Gold. Pearls. But... doesn't matter. It took me no time at all to get lost in seriously... ZILLIONS... of pieces of accessories. I touched them all. I tried on them all. I delighted in them all.
Trust me... I wandered over to all the colored displays as well, but the gold and diamonds are my first love. In fact, while I was in the pink section, I saw a grandmother with her nine year old granddaughter. They were having a ball. I felt I owed to society to inform the adorable little girl that she is one mighty lucky young lady! Why?? Because when I WAS HER AGE, nothing like this kind of store was even REMOTELY around. But for her?? Whoa... is she ever blessed. She'll NEVER be lacking in a need to feed her desire for affordable glitz.
And apparently nor will I, now. All of us immediately went our separate ways throughout the store, each eyeing all the delights that tickled our particular fancies. And, just for good measure when we saw something PERFECT for each other, we went nuts calling out each others' names. DID YOU SEE THIS? QUICK. CHECK THIS OUT. OMG... JUST WHAT YOU'D LOVE. Etc. etc. Which is why shopping with girlfriends is such an amazing adventure.
From the toddler stage on, we ladies seem to have the game plan all down pat. Shopping is like the most perfect entertainment ever. We women can bond so beautifully together while still expressing our individual personalities. Given the right store, we can easily kill an hour or more... just browsing, chatting, gossiping, connecting and delighting ourselves. It's like an innate sense that we girly girls are born with, knowing that somehow shopping can enhance any friendship. Actually, now that I think about it, shopping even has the possibility of almost bringing a whole new meaning to: pleasuring ourselves. Yikes. Who knew?
Anyway, you can bet your bottom dollar all of us traipsed out of Charming Charlie's with a bagful of stunning finds. I LOVE what I bought! I found necklaces, rings and bracelets which I can now add to my current collection of 893 uh... necklaces, rings and bracelets. Talk about never having too much of a good thing.
Bottom line to all this?? I love my girlfriends. I love Charming Charlie's. And I love my new glitz and bling. Man, life is good.
Gotta get Showtime. Gotta get Showtime. Gotta get Showtime.
So this was an interesting day. A pretty happy day too. For the second time in a couple of weeks, I think I may have crashed a party. As in: I lunched with what is normally a MEN'S CLUB of sorts. Well, not really a club of course, but I happen to know three men with whom I'm friendly and today we all had lunch together once again. I figured since I had a hysterectomy so many years ago, I should fit in pretty damn well, given my lack of estrogen. I'm now way closer to the side of those with testosterone. Besides, I can swear up a storm with the best of them.
Anyway, all these friends are really nice men, especially since they put up with all my jabbering without a single complaint. Not to my face anyway. Okay... so while we were there downing our food, we were talking about a zillion things. One topic was COMPUTING and as it turns out, in his previous life one of the guys was a computer teacher/expert. So up my alley. We were talking about ADOBE PHOTOSHOP ELEMENTS and I had mentioned that I'll bet it's been 25 years since I actually walked into a store and BOUGHT software. Of course NOW, as I'm sitting here, I remember buying software that burns movies onto a DVD just a couple of years ago. But who's counting.
Regardless... we decided that after lunch we'd all take a ride over to Staple's and hook me up with a REAL imaging program. This computer teacher said it was fantastic and knew just which version of Photoshop I should buy. Yippee. Just what I love... inside information about software and/or computing! As you can imagine, I was pretty psyched to see what this program could do, that my Paint Shop Pro can't, given I could spend HOURS playing around with images. Next thing you know, the men were all trying to decide whose car we should take and out of nowhere, boom. My testosterone kicked in as I blurted out... no problem boys. I'LL DRIVE. Besides, I told them that this could be my initiation into the male only club. Omg... I AM becoming one of the men, afterall. EEKS.
So bingo. We all headed over to Staples. We got what I needed and we were on our way. THEN... one of the other men, said: Whoa. I can't believe you're not going into Pier One, which happened to be in the same shopping strip as Staples. To which I said... WHAT? SHOP IN PIER ONE WITH THREE MEN?? NO WAY I'D EVER SUBJECT ALL OF YOU TO THAT. I mean... seriously... I do know just how far to push my luck. However, as said luck would have it, the computer specialist said... I WONDER IF THEY HAVE INCENSE THERE.
Are you kidding me?? In Pier One?? OF COURSE THEY DO. All kinds, too!
Uh... care to guess what we did NEXT? You're damn right... the four of us all drove right smack over Pier One, with the guys now telling me, as we're walking in... You now have an ENTOURAGE! OMG. Trust me... I could SO get into entourages. Anyway, they all headed to the incense department and I headed over to the seat pillow department. In no time flat, we had what we needed, we checked out and we returned to the car.
Which is exactly why: Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus. WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUYS EXACTLY WHAT THEY CAME FOR AND JUST LEAVES PIER ONE WITHOUT EVEN CHECKING OUT EVERYTHING ELSE IN SIGHT?? Are you kidding me?? God only KNOWS what other must-haves may have been in the store! No roaming the aisles? No picking up every item just to see and feel? No racking up your original bill ten fold? Man, is THIS ever a new experience for me.
On the other hand, shopping with this group is but young. Give me a few more chances... and I'm sure I'll have them trained as impulse buyers in NO TIME. Trust me... they don't call me female for nothing! Even better though... tomorrow, when the men all head out to the shooting range, I'M GOING WITH FIVE GIRLFRIENDS TO LUNCH AND TO THE ALL TIME BEST ACCESSORY STORE KNOWN TO MAN... CHARMING CHARLIES!
Ahhh... talk about being back in familiar territory. That my friends, will be a REAL shopping experience!
WGT... WNT... WGTB... WDYS
I so can't believe this. My mouth is watering as we speak and I am still hours away from taking even my first bite. But ALREADY I know this recipe I just made up is going to be OUTSTANDING.
So get this. I decided I wanted to use my new Crock Pot once again. However, I'm done with heavy meats for now. Like pot roast, beef ribs, etc. Instead, I told Bonnie: THIS week, I want you to please get me A PORK LOIN ROAST. A big fat one, too. OMG. You should see this thing!! IT'LL FEED A FAMILY OF TEN, EASILY. But more importantly, it fit into my crock pot with great ease. This piece of meat weighed about 4.5 pounds and was trimmed beautifully. Even its raw state, it looked scrumptious! Actually, if we want to get technical, I think Bonnie bought me a mere pork roast and not a pork LOIN roast. But, whatever. I don't even know the difference.
Okay. So I decided I didn't want bar-b-que flavoring for this dish. I decided instead, to go with a sort of sweet and sour flavor. Boy am I glad I did. The first thing I did was to line the bottom of the pot with plenty of sauerkraut. I used like a whole jar, given the there was so much meat.
Next, I seasoned the pork on sides and ends with PLENTY of garlic and pepper seasonings. Then... I took about 362 pieces of garlic and diced it up real small. And next, I took the garlic pieces and sort of pressed them onto the meat's surface. Boom. I was to ready roll. I then let all this cook on high for about two hours.
In the meantime, I went into the kitchen a while ago and thought to myself. Hmmmm... I'm not sure this is going to be juicy and/or flavorful enough for my liking. And, certainly not sweet and sour. SOOOOOO.... I went to the pantry, pulled out a jar of Red Currant Jelly and a bottle of Mushroom Beef Gravy. Eureka! I mixed the two bottles together in a bowl, blending the two flavors and then I poured 3/4 of it over the meat, dripping all over the edges onto the sauerkraut. IMMEDIATELY I knew I had what I wanted!
NOW the sauerkraut is going to serve as a kind of fabulous sweetened cabbage side dish. And, is going to be out of this world with the pork roast. I am telling you... I'VE CREATED A DISH OF THE CENTURY. I can hardly believe it.
Nor can I believe that I love this Crock Pot so much! That alone is a sheer miracle. I've been reading on the internet that a pork roast should never be cooked in a slow cooker. Lots of people seem to be of the consensus that there is not enough fat on it. A pork shoulder, maybe. But not a pork roast.
Yet I am fearing not. As long as I don't overcook this meal, I am going to be JUST fine. In fact, as soon as I finish here, I'm going to run to the kitchen and turn the pot on low for the rest of the cooking time. Trust me, once this absolutely fantastic meal is completed... I'm making a date for a wonderful dinner party and then all my friends can ALSO have their mouths water, as well!
Man... I love when miracles happen. So now all I have to do is go out and find an apron embellished with diamonds and pearls. Or of course make one myself. Talk about STUNNING.
(Yea! Hit the showers!)
Granted... just a half inch. Yet remember... the night is but young. This so can't be good.
But okay... winter must officially be here. And, get this: the low tonight is 18 degrees!! WHOA. Oh yeah... btw... I'm still working on designing this new site. I basically have no clue what I'm doing, but what the hell. Bear with me.
YSTB...BTATR!!
Okay. So this is the first day of the New Year. I am happy to say that after a kind of hit and miss yoga sessions for the past six months, I am now finally back into a great daily schedule once again. THANK GOD. And... in fact.... I've even switched up the session times when needed, if I'm going out for the evening! Am telling you... that alone is a MAJOR concession on my part.
Plus, as of last June, I even began attending Core Training classes with my fantastic instructor, Ansley. Man, is SHE ever great looking. Granted I only go once a week, but hey... it IS sorta pricey! Wouldn't matter though. For during the first eight weeks, it took me three days to even MOVE after each class. Man... it was like EVERY deep muscle within my body was writhing with pain. Plus... watching me workout?? SO not a Jane Fonda type of deal. Jane?? STUNNING. Me?? This far from being in a circus. Also... after completing EVERY leg of the crazy ass circuits, I am imMEDiately forced to swear like a sailor. I'll bet Jane never did that.
In the meantime, for the last three weeks, I've been back into yoga. OH MAN. TALK ABOUT PAIN. It was like my entire body atrophied during my sabbatical. I have a couple of stretches that are still KILLERS, too. Case in point: this one stretch up above, called the Half Butterfly pose?? EXCRUCIATING. It goes like this...
You sit on floor. You stretch your legs way out in front of you. Then, you take one leg, bend it, and bring the heel of the foot up into the inner groin/thigh area of your opposite leg. THEN you bend at your waist, trying touch the knee of the straightened one with your head. You think this is EASY? Well, it IS if it's my right leg that's doing the bending. But doing the LEFT LEG? Omg... it's like my inner thigh muscles haven't stretched in YEARS. You think I swear alot during Core Training? You ain't heard NOTHING while I'm doing this particular stretch.
But OK. It's the new year and so far I'm on my way to becoming a little more fit. YIPPEE. That's the good news. The bad news?? Well, just let's say I've gotta start working on my beloved high carb diet. Maybe.
