Friday, October 31, 2008

Phrase o' the day

"Drunk enough to be flammable."

Today's phrase o' the day comes courtesy of the fabulous Sarah Hepola of Enjoy her feature about what not to be for Halloween.

And BOO!

Now, I think I'll really go scare myself and look at my IRA balance online.....

Saturday, October 18, 2008

The Magic Spurtle

I have NO idea how this happened.

It's not like we grew up in a "sports" household.

I mean, I do seem to recall the background sound of football on Sunday afternoon, accompanied by the smell of roasting chicken. (To this day, the sound of televised football and the smell of roast chicken takes me immediately to 73 Martin Road.)

So, here I am, at 11:30PM on a Saturday night, in the living room of the house I grew up in, with my sister, Mum, Dad, and Husband watching......a Red Sox game.

And my mother is whirling her spurtle.

Oh, silly don't know what a spurtle is?

So now that you know what one is, picture this: A 73-year-old woman in a 2004 World Series Red Sox baseball hat, whirling a spurtle over her head, like a tiny bat, screaming, "YOUK, YOUK, YOUK".

Thursday, October 16, 2008

The Struggle....

Fat baby, fat adult, right? That's the saying. So, I ask you, was I genetically screwed at birth? If you've ever seen my baby pictures, it's all there, in glorious black and white, circa 1964.

And, if you Punnett Square the whole family, you get a nice even roll: My sister, petite of frame and loses weight easily, like Mum. My brother, tall like my Dad, but again, like my Mum. Then there's me and Dad, both tall but with the whole Eastern European zaftig/large frame thing going on.

But when you see it in living color, on Facebook, for all the linked friends to see, and you thought you didn't look that bad, but you do, well, it's so depressing.

It's a life-long struggle, the fat thing. It's ridiculous that we live in a day and age when if you called a person of color "nigger", you'd be branded a racist, yet complete strangers feel perfectly free to call me "fat" without thinking twice. Well, I am. But I'm bigger than I thought I was, at least in the D&M wedding photos, and here I was, heading off for pictures, thinking I looked darn swell.

But I don't.

(I was thin once. I swear to god, I really was. There are caveats to this: I expended a tremendous amount of calories. I rode my bike between 10 and 12 miles per day, and on top of that I worked out at least 1.5 to 2 hours, three to five times per week. I walked or took public transit everywhere. I ate crap, though. Tons of pasta, beer, not big on the vegetation.)

And now? Well, I freely admit that I'm a lazy poop. I gave up cycling because I had a fairly nasty accident that resulted in some facial scarring. My new bike commute is somewhat treacherous. I gave up taking the T, so I no longer walk 10 blocks per day. (New car is so fun, plus free parking at work.) And I cannot get motivated to go to the gym.

The flip side? I eat more healthfully than ever and I spend time with Husband, who loves and is attracted to me just the way I am.

So what to do? I felt like I finally made peace with my fat. I've tried to stay fit and healthy, with good blood values, but it's not enough; maybe it never will be. But I know I cannot look at those pictures. They are hellishly awful.

So next week, I start at the gym first thing in the morning and foreswear many, many forms of carbohydrate. I'll switch from plain yogurt and blueberries to veggie fritatta.

I refuse to become a food nazi, but I also refuse to be photographed with six chins.

And I love my friends who know all this and never said a thing about it, but instead, respected the silence of the fat.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Pardon Me, Your Chlorophyll Is Showing!

Hello and welcome to fall, or as we say here in Nouvelle Anglais, "Leaf-Peeping Season". Frankly, I've always hated that turn of phrase, because let's be honest: It sounds vaguely naughty and not in a good way.

However, the foliage is on fire this year, as evidenced by the long journey to and from Montreal for D&M's wedding (Best. Wedding. Ever.) The happy couple are vacationing in the Quebec lakes country and I hope they have une marvelluise lune de miel. And to all the Fabulous Boys I met at the wedding: MWAH! Big kisses from Beantown.

But I digress.

It's 10 Items of Flotsam Day
1. Totally agree with T&Lo. This was craptastic. I'm not sure I'll tune in next year. However, in the meantime, check this out for a chuckle.
2. IRA loss count: $11 grand...and rising.
3. Opinion about the so-called "bailout": Unchanged. It still sucks.
4. The Hotel Nelligan rules!
5. Parents' trip to Grand Canyon and Vegas: Successful. They both came back alive.
6. I snored at work. No really. I did.
7. Niece and Nephew #1 are 22 as of yesterday. I feel old.
8. Dinner: Chicken parm or mushroom pasta with broccoli rabe?
9. The Cole Haan ballerina flats are going back. No one my size needs short-looking feet.
10. And now, a poem from Ogden Nash

by Ogden Nash

There is something about a Martini,
A tingle remarkably pleasant;
A yellow, a mellow Martini;
I wish I had one at present.
There is something about a Martini,
Ere the dining and dancing begin,
And to tell you the truth,
It's not the vermouth--
I think that perhaps it's the gin.