Does this count as exercise?

so - i managed to add 15 pounds to my five foot stature in the last year. not a good look. i'm starting to have that squarish shape thing where everything is pretty much grotesquely sticking out at the same depth. which is better than the old woman giant pooch thing, but seeing as how this isn't my "letting myself go" age, i'm pretty sure this denotes a problem.

- side note, i'm not really sure how i'm supposed to be trying to take care of my bodily shape when the fact of the matter is, i'm not going to grow five inches. i've been five foot tall since the eighth grade which has landed me here. here, where my five foot tall self still uses a little tikes step stool to reach everything in my cabinets. so, i'd like to point out that since i'm not getting taller, the fact that i have to shop in the petite section shouldn't really be such a shock. and to further aggravate the fact that i'm five foot tall and already slightly round in proportion, the petite section always has those lovely old woman pants with the elastic waistband - so truthfully, how does anyone expect me to keep any sense of shape when the only pants i can buy already come with a built in expandable waistline for those unexpected binges on prunes?

anyway - like any good woman with the moral fiber to pretend that she will meet someone and won't always be a sad pathetic square cat lady, i pretend to work out. i mean we all know that i eat five cookies after each episode of aerobics i watch, but i think the brain watching these things tends to cause muscle contractions and therefore is really exercise. i anticipate that this watching will cause some sort of physical reaction. like when you watch a cooking show and get really effin hungry. well, i'm hoping if i watch enough abs of steel, i too will find that i wake one morning with abs that glisten in the sun. or, at least that's what i pretend.

so exercise, not so much. but. i do walk around in my new heels because i think it does work out my calf muscles, and because they are these really awesome peep toed heels with giraffe print and red platforms and its effin cold outside so i have to wait five months to wear them, which is completely unacceptable when i got them at such a discount after eying them all summer...but i digress....

so i'm on vacation and i'm sitting on my couch, which happens to be 20 feet from my front door, which has those stupid side window things that it is impossible to buy curtains for. and while they may be useful, seeing as how leaving the little tikes in front of the door to see out the peephole is probably some kind of a fire hazard, they aren't exactly helpful when mr. finance comes buy to sell me a new ira. i'm sitting, giant tshirt, no bra, boy shorts and one hell of a good morning hair look on my couch. When, happy knocker, you know, those knock, knockknock, knockkncockknock, knock people, comes tra-la-la-ling all over my morning rerun watching.

and seeing as how the boy shorts and no bra look is even less flattering than the morning hair, i did what any normal human being would do and slunk off the couch and belly crawled in front of the stairwell where i couldn't be seen. And when realizing that happy knocker conner wasn't going away, i put on my sweatshirt laying there and wrapped the cow print afghan around my waist. because, yes, this is my life, and effin eh, happy boy had seen me and wasn't leavin.

so, conner - i'm at the door, peeking around, holding on a blanket and he's politely trying to sell me some new financial products. and no, conner, you're not getting my phone number, because if you think i'm going to let someone peek at my financial history and plan my financial future after you've already gotten the show - honey, i can't ever look you in the eye again.

and if that were the end, we'd be ok. but me and giraffe print shoes, after putting flannel pajama pants on, went through the day only to forget that painter guy was coming over. and hello painter guy, come on in. yes that was my cat darting past your legs, and yes, i will be retrieving her in my pajama paints and red platform giraffe print heels. thank you - and i am a cat lady in training.

and so - after a full day of eventful hiding during my "vacation" day...i want to know, does belly crawling and heel wearing cat chasing count as exercise? cuz i think it has to count for at least a big mac, right? i mean, right?

'ef eharmony - part duex

so, if you've been following along, eharmony and i had a bit of a run in - they basically told me i was unworthy of procreation. so...instead of joining eharmony out of the gate, i went to the next best thing, to what the guy who told me to use eharmony said was just for those looking to get laid...match.com. i figured if i wasn't supposed to procreate, i should at least have some fun.

so i meet a few guys - some seem a little off, yes, match.com does take anything unlike it's superior sister site. i had one guy that emailed me and was like - do you have any hot friends. what the ef? seriously?

then there was the guy that was so not attractive, and not just in "not my type" sorta way, but in, wow - sadly you'll have kids and they might look like you kinda way - and he emails me and is like, i think we should go out. so, in proper match-up form, i take a look at his profile, just because the fact that he thought i was in his league appalled me. ok, this is the part where you just go, hmmm...

his profile says that he doesn' t believe in monogamy. he thinks it is a social creation and that we are meant to have sex with as many people as possible. first reaction, hmmm...and you emailed me because?.....

in the meantime, in this technological day and age, i got around eharmony's fortress of questions by creating a new email and password and lying on my application...suddenly, i was acceptable (first clue this stuff is effed up). why you ask - well, because i needed to see what wouldn't accept me in the first place - yes, there is a lot of freudian issues there, my shrink and i are working on them.

pooches and pinots

i arrived back at my house tonight and had to wait on the ladies of the block - pooch walking and wine drinking. yup, goblet in hand, leash in the other...wandering the neighborhood. so, i guess today's single older woman no longer requires cats, just a pooch and some pinot? and the fact that they both had on velour track suits, and make-up, officially frightened me into fearing the inevitable - i may be alone...though invested in good make-up, and hopefully good wine...and therefore somewhat happy down the neighborhood path. just one question...where the hell did they stuff the poo bag?

so i'm off on a date. and i feel like the 6th grade version of myself. freaking out about what to say, how to say it, and all that jazz. so things are going ok - i'm pulling a conversation along - and then - whack - mack truck moment. "i don't eat meat" - huh. why? "for health reasons". hm. you're talking to a girl that raised cattle to pay for college. my family has lived on the same farm ground for nearly 100 years.

we eat meat.

and worse that brining home a convicted felon - mostly because that would be easier to hide as long as there are no gang tats with tear drops and RIP etched anywhere in plain sight - is brining home a non-meateater.

first of all - i'm a believer in the fact that i got to this point on the food chain for a reason, and intend to stay here. second - my family's entire livelihood depends on the people that pick up a pound of beef at the local meat counter (oddly a gay innuendo in there, but not intentional). and third - as a slightly "well fleshed" individual - i find it a bit of a turn off that you don't like meat - cuz hunny, i got meat on my bones.

and my biggest worry in all of this is - if we're stuck on a desert island, and you don't eat meat from poor defenseless animals - but you get freakin hungry when the coconut milk and green leaf diet runs a little rough through you - are you gonna eat me instead? Cuz, i'm not defenseless - and again, a little meaty - so now i'm freaked while on this date that the guy is secretly sizing up the size of my loineye.

and then my mind wanders to one of those cartoons where my head is on a giant steak and he is licking his chops and thinking to himself - in the catchphrase of "the soup" (love you joel mchale!)- "sooo meaty.." and i start to get clammy hands thinking to myself how i build one of those very impressive bamboo traps to keep him away from my tender thighs... and then - whack -

yea - back to reality - maybe we should just say this might not work.

wearable plackard board - check

At what point do you consider yourself desperate? Like, you’re willing to ask a random person you’ve never met to spend three hours at a football game with you? Doesn’t that just reek of desperation?

so i get these tickets to a game - great, thanks for thinking of me - i mean really, i appreciate it. "i'm sure you can find someone to go with you..." yea, thanks, rub that in.

so - i set about trying to find someone to go with me. yup - not feelin the love. so, i'm thinking my plan is to get one of those signs the scalpers wear and print on it "ticket available - but you have to sit next to me". which, while funny, could be highly detrimental to my psyche. really, do you want people to walk up to you during your "free ticket, get your free ticket here" speal and then have them run away when they read the fine print? hmmm...i'm seeing a terrific you-tube video here. or possibly a pilot for the next semi-reality candid camera show...next blog post...tv shows i'd like to start.

anyway....

pimping myself out for a date seems little low. although, i suppose if i charged for the ticket and made some cash on the venture, it would at least have an upside. naw - i think that's illegal on this side of washington street.

oh the facebook bat shit crazy life i lead

so the started out normal. and then....da da da!....facebook happened. and, yup - the greatest soap opera in our history took place in rapid fire wall post succession. ooooo, yea, jab - bitch slap - good one. and we were all 500 miles apart. i love the internet!

and this is how it all starts.....
my friend says....
the house is so quite with only one kid....
3 hours ago · Comment · Like

let the rodeo begin!

me
dude - if you go through this everytime you send one off to school - you aren't going to keep having another one to replace her are you? if you end up on a reality show with 20 kids - i'm so going to do a "i knew her when" expose!

From BAT SHIT CRAZY lady (whom I have never met before)
it is alright to miss my kids(plural) first off. second it is not possible for me to have another child since my husband DIED 16 months ago. third we couldn't have our children through pregnancy so we adopted through foster care. forth you CAN'T EVER replace one child for another. fifth you can't say you knew "her" when... when you don't even know ... Read Moreher or me & have no F_ _ _king right to comment about someone or something you have no f_ _ _king clue about. keep your nose out of my business you stupid B_ _ ch!!!
friend finding all very amusing
"dude," you sure pissed someone off today - completely unintentionally. Whew. I think I need a Margarita!
about an hour ago · Delete
me
um - yea she just sent me a really nasty email too - i don't even know who she is.... huh. people need to drink more.
about an hour ago · Delete
friend finding all very amusing
Maybe you should 'Pass her a round"
58 minutes ago · Delete
friend that i do really know!
and she wonders why no one in the family wants nothing to do with her. because she is bat shit crazy.
9 minutes ago · Delete
friend finding all very amusing
You will never cease to crack me up.
8 minutes ago · Delete
me
lordy lordy - and bat shit crazy is my new saying of the day... you're all bat shit crazy!
7 minutes ago · Delete
friend finding all very amusing
Who needs soap operas when there is Facebook? I can't stop cracking up!
6 minutes ago · Delete
friend that i do really know!
she just aplogized to you on my wall......
6 minutes ago · Delete
friend that i do really know! (getting excited and typing it twice)
she just aplogized to you on my wall......
6 minutes ago · Delete
me
dude - i think she blocked me so i can't see anything she says! oh well - i don't even know how i got in all of this. i'm like the chic on soap operas that always gets blamed for everything - i put your husband in a comma, i pushed your sister down the stairs, i stole your baby - wait, baby off limits. gott it.
2 minutes ago · Delete

friend finding all very amusing
husbands are off limits, too. watch out, soap star!
about a minute ago · Delete
Friend who is a little overly enthused by this and might need to get a life:
And I will repeat . . . Who needs soap operas when there is Facebook? What an afternoon!!! LOL
12 minutes ago · Comment · Like / Unlike
me
thanks a lot friend!
11 minutes ago · Delete
me
this is so going in my blog.
11 minutes ago · Delete
Finding this a little too amusing now
I seriously cannot stop laughing! Where can we find your blog?!?!? LMFAO I am in tears!10 minutes ago
Friend I know
Who knew we were back in middle school. I would have put on some stirup pants and a big bow in my hair so I can fit in.....7 minutes ago

Write a comment...
oh i will - and this what i have to say: so - i'm sorry - this will get me a "your being ageist" comment from someone, but if you don't understand how to use facebook - you shouldn't have a profile. accept it and enjoy your tvland channel instead. it's ok. we won't judge!

wow - and that's what one hour of my life looks like. and people ask me why i think i need a blog. pssshhhaawww!

and monday starts again. i'd really like to meet the smarty pants that decided a work week should be five days and a weekend two - i mean, would the whole world fall down if we change to a four three schedule? really?

i'm pretty sure we'd all figure out how to survive without another work day. we all work 24/7 with our damn technology anyway - so does it really matter how long i sit at my desk everyday?

i hope my fictional grandkids have the wherewithal to change this - assuming the world hasn't blown up by then. i watched this freaking crazy Nicholas Cage movie - Knowing. Ok - Nick, I love you. I mean in The Rock - so wish I was on that rooftop - and even your dirty butt in ConAir - the only kinda white trash i'd move to a trailor for, but seriously - sun spasms and super beings that repopulate new planets hoping to get better humans? what the ef?

so i watch this movie - freak out by the weirdo beings that are sorta this mix between the arian perfection race, angles, and tall green men - and it gets to the end and i had two thoughts. ok - so tomorrow could be the end of the world, and i'm so not gonna be the chosen one, so i better figure out how to either get on the joint chiefs of staff radar as a hell of a party girl to be invited to the depths of the secret bunkers or start digging in my backyard now and two, i should really start thinking about having kids and trying to figure out what books on tape my belly needs to listen to in order to birth the child of alien selection for adam and eve part deux.

so - in summary - i think i need to go to barns and noble and find a book on alien languages, google the joint chiefs and see if i can facebook friend them, and send an email to Nick seeing as how after this movie and ghost rider (i'm sorry Nick, i tried) i may actually be considered datable material.

ok - so i find myself writing to this guy on a dating site - no, don't worry i didn't befall the horror of eharmony, they can still ef themseleves. and one of his loves is dr. pepper. oh, my soul mate, i've found you in mere days. love at first straw sharing is possible. in my opinion dr. pepper is a typically forgotten sweet nectar of the heavens and it constantly annoys me that restaurants and fountain machines across the country ignore him. however, as an alternative, there is a nice hole in the wall family restaurant behind where i work that has Mr. Pibb on tap. The lowly cousin, yes, but a nice variety never hurt anyone right? i'd do 'em both :)

EF E-Harmony

so the world tells you you aren't allowed to be single. you have to happily gushing on a tv commercial about finding the love of your life, via some magic test that supposedly tells you and everyone around you who you are and if you match the guy two hundred miles away enough to bother dating. sorry, i missed the memo but i thought the whole point of chemistry and intoxication was to find that magic test - that hopefully didn't turn pink in three weeks.

this guy at work says - are you dating anyone? does this outfit look like i'm happy, in love, or even getting any love? yea, no. so, he says, you should try eharmony. i met some nice girls on there. oh, really. ok - so i'm that pathetic and that alone, so sure, why not!

so- i go through the hoops. i take the magic test - answer inane questions about whether i'd prefer to be around a moderate or heavy drinker versus someone who does or doesn't want kids or if i think i tend to have a temper, get depressed and might drink too much. seriously, is this thing sending my results via maurry povich to my mother?

so i answer these things honestly - because who wants to have a relationship based on lies - even though every relationship under the sun has been started and maintained in exactly that way.

and then - submit - heres the hottie for you - oh, what the ef - nope. i'm sorry, we are unable to match you at this time.

ok, ummm...i'm desperate, and alone, and depressed, and pathetic, and yes, slightly tempramental about it. and thank you, eharmony, for making me feel even worse. in my estimation, eharmony is basically the e online version of darwin's theory. i'm sorry, you suck, your personality is crap, and we find that no one should date you. i would suggest having your tubes tied now because procreation really isn't recommended for people like you.

so the pathetic, depressed, pissed off women of the world, i don't recommend using eharmony to fix your woes. why, because it will just find a way to make you feel like you are the person on the island, that isn't gonna get even the last guy on the planet. congrats and ef you eharmony.

next post - seriously, you're married. great.

the first post

ok - so it's been a while in coming. but here it is. my first blog post. i can't believe that the journal i started in the 80's after reading God it's Me and keeping a box of "in case of emergency" under my bed has taken electronic form.

so - at some point i'll come up with something decent to say...and guess what...you dont' have to read it. cuz, while you're entitled to my opinion, it doesn't mean you actually have to care.