Jell-o Jiggler

In the attempt to have a body that doesn't clear the beach this summer, I have slowly but surely been adhering to and building up a work-out routine.  It's been 3 weeks and I am up to 4 times a week.  You might think, "So?", but take into consideration I have had a previous work out schedule of 2 times a year!   Slow and steady wins the race, right? Now, lest you give me more credit than I deserve, when I say "work-out" I am referring to the 30-45 minute "Biggest Loser" DVD that has become my own personal trainer. Never watched the show, but I could relate with the title, so I am giving it a try; alternating with another DVD  I had already. And man does it kick your butt!  I detest going to the gym; the harsh lighting, the gawking, grunting, squatting men and skinny bitches in spandex with their cute little iPods.  I know some would say, "Hey, it's motivation!" I on the other hand would prefer to jiggle in the sanctity of my own home.  The only glances I attract are from my lazy cats (it's not like they couldn't stand to lose a few) and my mirror only reflects my body from the chest up!  It's a win-win!  Hopefully all this will lead to a more healthy life-style and more importantly feeling comfortable in something other than a mu mu. 

I have always had a problem with my weight and finding a healthy balance between diet and exercise.  As a teenager I struggled with bulimia, I would run 7-8 miles, eat next to nothing, then throw-up when I did.  Gross, right?  But, I couldn't help it.  I finally put that behind me, but it is a constant fear that lingers.  I tend to go to extremes when it comes to my body and I hope I can maintain a balance now that I am older and (supposedly) wiser.  Wow, that was heavy!  (bad choice of words!) 

 I just realized as I am sitting here pouring out my darkest secrets that my next-door neighbor is scaling my fence looking for his dog that has apparently escaped, again! It's a beautiful husky that I think must be his girlfriend's, because it only comes over every once in a awhile, but he doesn't stay put for long.  As long as he doesn't doody on my lawn or eat our fish, I don't mind.  But it is funny watching this guy try to wrangle him in.   Anywhoo... wish me luck,  and lots of love to everyone else out there who is in the midst of the timeless "Battle of the Bulge!"

An Amazon in Lumpa Land

I have finally emerged from the virtual black hole I have been calling home.  I don't know why my enthusiasm to write was so stunted, maybe I felt like I didn't have anything important to say.  But now that no one is probably going to read this, it doesn't really matter.  Actually I have just been lazy and not feeling at the top of my game.

I just remembered something funny that happened this weekend.  I had quite the "Amazonian" moment at my local Vons.  I was casually perusing the produce section for some avocados in my flip-flops and sundress, when I was approached by an employee.  Now, I say "approached," but it was more like hunted down.  He was across the room stocking some tomatoes and felt the need to make a bee-line towards me. He was like a lion hunting his prey and before I knew it, he was upon me. Wide-eyed and mouth agape, he sidled up beside me.  An important note to make is that as a tall girl- 5'11- I have grown accustomed to the idiotic questions and banter ("Duh, you must have played basketball" or "Garsh, are you a model?" or some other completely boneheaded statement that has nothing to do with me as a person!) that harangue a woman of my stature during introductions, however when a complete stranger comes up to me and begins making asinine remarks, it tends to really irritate me.  So, as I am trying to choose an avocado worthy of my famous guacamole, this man, all 5'4 of him comes up to me and in a heavy Mexican accent asks, "Geez, how tall are you?! and you're not even wearing heels."  He then embarks on a 5 minute rant about how tall I am and that I never have to wear high heels and how tall I am!  Oy!  I did my best to be civil and brush him off as soon as possible, but he just wouldn't let it go.  I mean, I don't go up to short people and ask them how short they are and go on about how cute their little feet are, and I don't go up to really obese people and say, "Wow, you are so fat, how much do you weigh?"  Why is it perfectly acceptable to oggle  tall people?  I understand that if you are "vertically challenged" and wish you were taller, you would envy a tall person.  But I wish I had bigger boobs, that doesn't mean I go up to women with a nice rack and ask them their bra size and cop a feel!  I guess I should take it as a compliment, but sometimes it makes me feel like a Ripley's Believe It or Not Attraction.  So, power to the tall women and the short men who admire them! (But, hey Men, admire from a distance!)