Sophie’s Choice vs. living la vida Sophia Loren

February 21st, 2017, 5:20 PM by Goddess

I got an invite to a housewarming.

Personally, I haven’t thrown a housewarming party in years. Mostly because I left my cool friends in Pittsburgh and D.C. and couldn’t get two people to even come to my house these days.

Also, I don’t cook anymore and I used to LOVE to make a million appetizers. Who the hell has time for that anymore?

Plus, I’m over 40. We’re still doing this?!

I was shocked when I heard there was not only an RSVP date, but a gift registry.

I also got invited to a wedding in Pittsburgh this summer. That wedding registry was a doozy. Everything was white. White plates, white sheets, white towels, white rugs, white cookware and white shower curtain. Like, something out of a horror film.

(And I won’t even say that I think the groom is gay … whoops, wait, just did!)

At least the stuff on the housewarming registry is tasteful and has a few pops of color.

Although, I am more of the “stop at the liquor store on the way to the party” kind of gal than an “OK I will buy your bed in a bag” type.

Also, I have never quite spent that kind of money on a housewarming (A) or someone I don’t know all that well (B) or taken kindly to being told what to bring (C).

Shit, my ex-neighbor kept inviting me to gatherings and begging me to bring cheese and crackers and I abstained based on that alone.

I ain’t a cheese-and-crackers kind of party gal. Sorry. Ain’t a big fan of the bed-in-a-bag, either. And I don’t touch anything white because I will ruin it.

However, I will buy you a very nice bottle of wine that you probably never tried before and you will LIKE it if you can get past your affinity for Boone’s Farm Snow Creek Berry.

In any event, I made plans that day already but the party is way closer to my house. And would still cost less, net-net.

One day I will get to decide between hanging out on a yacht with champagne and lying on a beach in the Maldives. Till then, it’s more Sophie’s Choice than living la vida Sophia Loren.



Stranger in a strange land

November 21st, 2016, 4:49 PM by Goddess

I figure Iron Maiden is a nice break from Metallica in my post titles. But given that Vince Neil was invited to play at inauguration, it appears the America the Angry Yam wants to return us to is circa 1983. (The “Theater of Pain” era. How quaint.)

It was in 1984 when I wrote to then-President Reagan to complain that he took away the steelworker jobs in Pittsburgh and my family broke up because of it.

And how all the people I grew up with vote Republican now is BEYOND ME.

Of course, how my candidate won the popular vote by more than 1.7 million and we’re stuck with this Cheeto-colored turd is even more BEYOND ME.

But anyway.

No rage here. None at all.

I forget what I even came here to blog about now.

Also, fuck Trump.



Southern charm

May 3rd, 2016, 1:16 PM by Goddess

So mom and I watch “Southern Charm.” On last night’s episode, Landon claimed that she invited Evil Kathryn to Shep’s birthday party. But then everyone (who HATES Kathryn) called her to ask why she wasn’t there. And the jig was up — Landon didn’t want to invite drama.

Shep was pissed because he’s all about inclusion. But I’m Team Landon on this one.

I say it because I’m lucky enough to be on an invite list for an event this week. And I noticed the absence of my own Kathryn. Now … do I stay in Landon character, or be the better (Shep) person and open my mouth?

Honestly this person usually forwards all my notes to someone else to handle them. So perhaps if they forwarded the invite too, it would be a win-win all around. Although, I’ve never quite met anyone who loves lunch as much as our Kathryn …



I’m a loser, and happy about it

September 28th, 2013, 3:13 PM by Goddess

I haven’t talked about my pudgy pork roast ass in two weeks since I lost 3.5 pounds (which, rock), but I’m still plodding along the journey.

Maintained last week and dropped 1.6 today. Again, rock.

Today the leader decided to have a conversation with me while I jumped on the scale. Which, eek. Because, I barely tracked my food this week and I knew a surprise to the upside could very well be in store.

Oh, sweet Jesus, hallelujah.

I took a minute and welcomed a brand-new member today. Something I wish anyone would have taken the time to do for me. I also thanked my leader for taking time to have a real conversation with me about my journey so far.

I do different things every week. I eat whatever I want. I eat whenever I want. I never abide by my daily points and I stop eating whenever I decide I am done.

Back in the day your points value changed every time you dropped to a new “decade” in weight. If you went from 190 to 180, you lost a point. The new system is different, and even though I am certainly between numbers, I lost a daily point.

Again, not that I adhere to them because I have “bonus” points, if you will. So I presume I won’t even notice. Although, perhaps maybe I should.

My tweaks to my life have been small. For instance:

  • Powdered coffee creamer 100% of the time. And no skim milk or my fake milk if there isn’t any — go for the half-and-half and enjoy it. Otherwise skim milk means it will suck and need two packets of asparteme, and asparteme gives me headaches and possibly causes cancer.
  • Whole wheat is just as bad as white bread. And if my local bagel joint’s nutritional page is to believed, it’s actually worse. So, multigrain whenever possible, when it comes to starches.
  • Egg whites are terrible. Says she who has consumed gallons of them. Real eggs only now. With yolks. Fuck you nutritional studies that say they’re good, then bad, then good again. Done listening.
  • Light beer sucks. Give me a Magic Hat, a Purple Haze, a Guinness. I will drink less and enjoy it more.

And that’s the key — when you eat or drink something that doesn’t fulfill you emotionally or physiologically, you won’t stop till you find what might … no matter how many points you’ve already consumed.

We all just want to go to bed happy, I think. If I “cheat” per se but DAMN IT WAS WORTH IT, those are the weeks I lose weight. And more of it than just three-tenths of a pound.

My boss gave me a book on how to “Choose Yourself” and I have been reading it. Funny to get that from a workplace that I give 60-65 hours of work, eight hours/300 miles of commute, five Advils, three nightmares, two tanks of gas and one night of lost sleep every week, and it’s still not enough. But, you know, I appreciate the thought.

But really, choosing to get healthier IS me choosing myself. Because as the book says, you can’t have success if you don’t have your health. Just look at my mom, whose health has declined so much that I can’t even look at her anymore. (And yes I hate myself for it.)

So fuck you GOP for blocking Obamacare and fuck you Michele Bachmann for “earning” an $80,000/year pension for life for contributing NOTHING to this word and fuck you everyone who sees us decreasing humanitarian aid overseas and worrying WHAT ABOUT THE OIL TANKER STOCKS because there’s less caaaarrrrrgoooooooooo. And everyone like them who would rather let us die on the inside and the outside when it wouldn’t exactly kill them to throw us a lifeline. Ted Cruz and your goddamned Goldman Sachs healthcare plan. Fuck you most of all.

Anyway.

Down a pound and a half. This week in my life counted for something. Hooray.



‘You don’t look a day under 104’

July 17th, 2013, 7:16 PM by Goddess

Well, this week sucks.

I’d blog it but why?

I will say I see it’s Whorothy’s birthday. HOLY SHIT that woman should give us all a gift and stop posting pics. Seriously, my girl R always called her the Crypt Keeper. She was being generous.

On her newest pic, I want to comment, “You don’t look a day over 104! Or, for that matter, a day under!”

I feel fuckin’ beautiful now after looking at that mess.

The things I do to entertain myself when my body is radiating stress and pain.