Fat Globules

I have them.

Oh, yes, indeed I do.

Some people who have seen me in real life think I look better than I really do. There are two trains of thought that follow this track. One, they are just being nice to me. Two, they are blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other.

Last night, after a hard day’s work and the mowing of two lawns (one at the house and a smaller one at the office), I didn’t feel like cooking. I felt like sushi. I have bad wrists and my sushi sucks. I was hoping to be wined and dined at my favorite Japanese restaurant.

Mr. Demonic would have rather had something at home, but he agreed to meet me there. He had been riding his Harley all day and had that helmet head look going on. My Favorite Japanese Restaurant is nice, but it’s not that nice. Besides, Koji, the owner, knows me from before when his dad owned the place. He wouldn’t care what we looked like.

I was hot and sweaty after my grass-cutting expedition, so I took a shower. Then I attempted to don a cool top and jeans.

I was amazed to find out that all my cool tank tops are too small! These include some very nice ones that I had purchased at the end of last summer and had never worn. These included some that were not form fitting, but were rather loose.

They are now unfortunately all tight! I checked myself out in the mirror. Sure enough, I was all fatty and globulely.

I decided that after my sushi dinner, I was going to reform. So this morning I did ten minutes of yoga with the pretzel dude on the Oxygen Channel’s “Inhale” Show. (That guy is a total yoga nutcase.) I would have done more, but I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack.

I’m going to eat fish and veggies for dinner, no cake.

Then I’m going to jump on my dusty elliptical machine and go until I pass out.

Globules! YUCK!

Advertisements

Lobbying for Adoption

I’m about “this” close to putting myself up for adoption on eBay. No, it’s not because of this that I’m looking for a new home. It’s because I woke up to six inches of snow, YET AGAIN.

I really don’t know how much more of this I can take. Winter sucks. Royally.

I have a really nice net-friend, and you all know him. He’s My Internet Boyfriend. Beyond the confines of this forum, we share email which can range from sublimely serious to definitively wacky. We’ve known each other for about a year, and I like him a lot. I’ve seen video of his family, and he’s seen video of me singing some country’s national anthem. He even sent me a gift, which was damn nice of him. But before any of you get the notion that our relationship is more than friendship, I guess I would like to clarify. Yes, it is more than friendship. MIB is more like a brother to me.

In an email last week, he was describing a house guest who doesn’t really have a job, but chips in by taking on some household tasks. I thought the guy was one lucky dude. He hit the jackpot by bunking with MIB. So I replied back, “Well, why don’t you adopt me?” His answer dealt along the lines of getting rid of his wife. This was not my intent! My reply was then, “I don’t want you to marry me, I want you to adopt me!”

The more I think about this, the more I like this idea, so I am now lobbying full time for adoption. Think of it! I could be the sister MIB doesn’t have. (He has a sister, but not one like me!) I can cook. I enjoy cleaning and laundry. I can babysit the kids. I have a clean driving record and can shuttle them around. I can run errands. I’m a master with organization and would keep the house tidy. In addition, I’m pretty smart with conversation and I’m no dummy when it comes to Scrabble.

I’m loyal, trustworthy, and honest. And after July, I’ll be without minor children. (What to do with Mr. Demonic… Hmmm… I’m still working on that.)

The trade off is that I would be far, far away from this Rust Belt northern clime. Oh, sure, he’s farther north in another country, but from the sounds of it, his location is rather temperate. When we are under siege by Alberta clippers, he’s enjoying 50 degree days and light jackets. Although located fairly centrally, his city is also much closer to the ocean than I am, which is a huge plus. It appears that the entire area has a strong economic base and the cultural attractions are many.

I wonder if my local Staples has pre-made legal paperwork for applying for adoption?

Barring a hang up in being adopted by MIB, I am hereby taking a waiting list for those who would like to add me as a family member. After that, I’m using eBay.

Captured Under a Dome of Gray

A winter ice storm just barely missed us, and for this I am thankful. There was only a thin coating on my sidewalk and car. I do not winter easily, especially here. It seems that in the process of aging, my bones are getting more and more brittle and my tolerance for cold is less and less.

And now a dome of gray has captured us. Like bugs trapped under the glass, we are powerless to move beyond our sphere. This shade of gray, like the underside of a tabby, like a blanket of wool, envelops and surrounds. It numbs the senses, and makes us lethargic. Nap time beckons, but we cannot answer the call. We are kept just barely alive by the glow of florescent lighting.

When spring returns, we will be thin and spindley like plants that have not received enough sunshine. Outside the dome of gray, we will finally blossom.

I can hardly wait.

A Layer of Fog Makes Me Lazy

It snowed last night after an enormous wind and bit of a chill; big, wet and fluffy flakes danced to the earth in the midnight calm. “They” (those meteorologists-who gave them a license to be wrong all the time?) said we could possibly get three to six inches of snow and that news sent the entire area into a panic, but instead we only received a dusting. This morning the temperature warmed to 40 degrees, and now we are covered in a layer of fog as well as a coating of snow.

Since the sky, the houses, and the streets have melted into a canvas of varying shades of gray, my ambition has lost color as well.

I think I will lay in bed, a heating pad on my back, and invite the Space Cadet Kitten to join me under the down.