How To Look Good In A Bikini . . . Don't Wear One

I forgot to tell everyone that I have lost a whopping 4 pounds in my Beach Body Boot Camp Challenge, which started April first. I am down to a Rubenesque 180.2 and happy to report that my pants are getting baggy and my muffin top is shrinking.


Now that I am over 40, I no longer care about "looking good" in a bikini. My more realistic goal is to "look acceptable" in jeans and a tucked-in tank top . . . without wearing full-body Spanx.


Some other over 40 goals include:


1. Staying below my "baby weight" of 215 pounds.

2. Never being caught out in public braless.

3. Growing my hair out--something I have been trying to do since junior high.

4. Resuming yoga.

5. Learning how to surf.

6. Looking good in a wet suit. (see #5)

7. Writing a novel.

8. Having lots of grandchildren. (More of a wish than a goal)

9. Always staying friends with Ally.

10. Not turning into my parents.


I know I can do it.


-Lela

Another One Of Those Days

Up early for a cold shower. The freaking sensor on the water heater is malfunctioning. One shower at a time is fine, two at the same time first thing in the morning and it freaks out. Along with an occasional other random freak out. I have been asking for a fix (which requires a replacement) for 6 months. It is not a cost issue. It is a "why the heck can't this get done?" issue. I believe today was the last straw and inquiry is being made.

Taught a class that only half my students showed up for. At least I get paid anyway. Of those who didn't show up, I can guarantee at least two will want me to take extra time to go over what they missed. Which was a very detail/information intensive class.

Went to Trader Joe's - $195 later. And there was only 3 bottles of wine in there. What the heck? Okay, maybe this wasn’t really such a bad thing! :-)

Email from my sister-in-law. Guaranteed to ruin anyone's day. Bad words want to stream from my mouth. I am refraining. She is such a... twit.

Baseball game canceled as I'm walking out the door. AFTER cutting my workout SHORT, and have showered and changed. Argh.

Decide to use my time wisely, and sit down to grade the business plans for the massage school business class I teach. Only two out of six were turned in on time. First one REEKS like cigarette smoke. The PAPER reeks. Would you want a massage from him? Cause I can tell you he smells the same. Besides the misspellings in his resume (spell check anyone?), bare bones information and some grammatical errors, I suppose I should be pleasantly surprised that he picked a few things up from the class... sorry, I can't get past the smell.

Oh wait, I forgot to eat anything beside a yogurt at 10am and a spoonful of peanut butter before I got on the treadmill. Well that would explain the crash. And my desire to eat an entire wedge of brie cheese. Which I did not, thankfully.

Then, after my son has finally finished homework, we sit down to watch a recorded show together that he's been asking to watch. And I fall asleep.

Tomorrow's a new day!
***Ally

Universal Truths

I got a forwarded email (something like # 1,234,567). But this one I enjoyed. It was a list of Universal Truths. All of which I found amusing and true.

#1 was:

I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

See, I think this is a brilliant idea. I don't do porn sites, so I'm not worried about that. But what about those emails I send to Lela the days Hubs is driving me mad? It'd probably be better if he didn't find those when I was dead. And being a bit of a writer, I've got a load of journal-ish pages of life frustrations that wouldn't need to ever be read by anyone.

#2 was:

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you are wrong.

Oh holy chicken wings. That totally SUCKS. And no amount of backtracking makes it better.

#26 I just love:

I love the sense of comaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent an ass from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

Drivers with brains unite!

And finally, #29:

There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

And there's no adrenaline rush quite like it. Your heart beat goes through the roof for a good full minute afterwards. We've ALL been there.

Universal Truths, friends.

***Ally

Today's Post Is Messed Up!

So click here because it posted with the wrong date! And I have not had enough coffee to figure out how to change it!

Ally

Just Answer The Question

(Memoir Monday will return next week!)

I walked into the front office of my son's school the other day to sign him out for a doctor's appointment. While I was waiting for him the secretary asked me a few questions.

"Your son has a doctor's appointment?"

"Yes, he is going to see the allergist for shots."

"Hmm. He will miss the assembly."

"Yes," I said. He would also miss P.E. Big deal.

"Um, can I see your I.D.?"

Hey, the lady was just doing her job, but I really didn't have my I.D. with me. I planned on walking back to my house to change shoes and get something to eat before we went to the doctor's office.

"I didn't bring my purse, but I just live across the street and can get it."

"Do you really live across the street?" she asked.

"Well, not right across the street, but around the corner and down a few houses. It's no problem," I said, truthfully, even though it started to sound like a lie.

Finally my son walks through the door. The secretary points to me and says to my son, "Who is this woman?"

"What?" he asked, looking from me to her.

The secretary repeated, "Who is this woman? Do you know her?"

"Who, her?" my son asks. "I don't know."

"Just tell her who I am," I whispered, trying not to move my mouth. This was not looking good, but who did this lady think I was?

My son finally caught on to the situation, admitted I was his mother, and we walked home.

I stopped by the office on the way to the doctor's and showed the secretary my driver's license, proving no crime had been committed. I also thanked her for doing her job and we laughed about my son, the comedian.

Ha ha. Very funny.

-Lela

Want To Sign?

Have you signed Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution Petition?

Sign Jamie's petition to save cooking skills and improve school food.

Maybe it's not your thing, and that's okay. Come back Monday for our regular fare. I respect your opinion and your choices.

But health and nutrition are important to me and to all of us and the complete failure of our country to promote and support it is totally frustrating. I believe our children should be given healthy food in school. For some, it is the only chance at decent, healthy food they will get. I feel that filling them with fake, processed, chemical laden food is shameful.

I showed my support, will you?

Ally

It's My Page and I'll Complain If I Want To...

I have mentioned before that I have a facebook page. My *friends list* is filled with weird people from my past, some present friends, and unfortunately some family members (like my tattle-tale aunt).

I have also mentioned that I live near Seattle. And it rains here. A lot. Especially in the spring. Especially THIS spring. And did I mention that I am addicted to sunshine for it's mood enhancing qualities? Which does not make rain my friend unless we are in the middle of a drought. Rain bums me out. Big time.

Am I going to tie these two things together? Why, yes I am!

I tend to complain about the weather on my facebook page. What else am I going to write? It's not like I'm going to tell them anything personal. I mean, that's what this blog is for.

This past weekend I had a friend tell me that I complain about the weather "too much" and that I "need to stop". Yeah, he doesn't much beat around the bush. So instead of just telling him to block me if he didn't like reading my complaints, I decided I'd try to embrace the positive of rain:

I will embrace my Mountain Hardwear rain jacket. It's an awesome jacket, really. Well made, keeps my dry. And it gets more wear than my favorite undies.

I will embrace my car umbrella, which needs to be replaced because there are two broken spoke-things. Because you can actually wear out an umbrella in Seattle.

I will embrace the fact that I don't have to wash the layer of green pollen off my car for another few days. Because the rain is currently turning it to pollen-mud, which will eventually wash away if it rains long and hard enough.

I will embrace the rain-out of my son's baseball game, giving him a rare day to get home before 6 or 7pm and not fight through his homework exhausted after dinner. And giving me an evening at home with both him and my husband. Even though my husband was supposed to be gone too, giving ME a rare few hours home ALONE. In peace. Dammit.

I will embrace the fact that I don't have to go out and water the... who am I kidding? No one has to water anything in Seattle this time of year!

Nope, it's not working. I'm gonna keep commenting on the rain on facebook. He'll just have to look the other way.

***Ally

My New Entertainment

(Post-It Note Tuesday will return next week)

Yes, Urban Dictionary is my new entertainment. Yes, I know it's been around for a WHILE. But sometimes you go back and see the funniest things.

For instance, every woman knows what these are. We all have them in the back of the drawer "just in case":

Famine Underwear
The garments you wear during a shortage of underwear, when you haven't done laundry in several weeks or months. Usually characterized by lack of elasticity, holes (usually large and awkwardly located), stains, and typically are at least 5 - 10 years old. In some cases soccer shorts, underwear of unknown origin, thongs, bathing suit bottoms, or 'granny panties' can be considered famine underwear, but do not necessarily meet the above criteria.

I haven't done laundry in weeks, so I'm wearing my famine underwear, the boxers I made in home economics in middle school.

OR


My husband is very good at this. I would just throw that stuff away:

Soap Grafting

The act of attaching an almost completely used piece of soap to a new, unused piece because it is now too small to be conveniently used but you also don't want to waste it.

My mum always soap grafts because she doesn't want to waste anything. Soap grafting is good.

OR


I'm a master at this:

Stealth Call

When you have to call someone back but don't want to talk to them, so you wait until you know they can't talk and leave a voice mail.

"I don't want to tell Karen I can't make it tonight, so I'll Stealth-call her when she's on her flight and has her phone shut off."

So, now you know what I do when I'm procrastinating doing something I really need to do. There's some really funny stuff in there totally inappropriate for this blog, too. But still amusing. And no, it doesn't take much to amuse me.

***Ally

If Whales Could Talk

I'm straying a little from my normal chipper, snarky self. I'll be back in full swing by next post.

I'm a pretty *green* gal.

I use re-usable shopping bags.
I buy compostable bags for dog poo out on our runs.
I buy organic food whenever possible.
I do not buy mainstream produced meat - I only buy from sustainable, preferably local meat sources. (and yes, I pay serious bucks - there will be no waste in my house).
I recycle - everything I can.

I use cloth napkins & kitchen cloths instead of napkins & paper towels (thanks to Erin at The Mother Load) as much as I can.
I use all natural cleaning products & laundry detergent.
I harvest produce from our backyard garden (new last year!) all summer long.
I turn down the thermostat and turn off the lights....and more.

So when I read an article like I did this week, it makes me sad.

We have migrating whales running the West Coast this time of year. Occasionally, some will detour into Puget Sound for a snack, since they haven't been eating while they've been down in Mexico having and making babies.

eaglewingtours.com

This week we had a 37 foot, male, gray whale beach itself in Puget Sound and die shortly there after. They have not yet determined the cause of death, as they are waiting for all the blood & tissue samples. But they did do an article in the paper about what they found in it's stomach.

"Sweatpants. A golf ball. Surgical gloves. Small towels. Bits of plastic. And more than 20 plastic bags." That's right. In it's stomach. See, gray whales are bottom feeders. They stir up the mud, taking big mouth fulls, then push out the water and muck through their baleen, eating the crustaceans and other small sea life left behind. And apparently, our trash.

It disgusts me. Yes, normally they will swallow things like rocks or bits of wood, and their digestive system passes it through. Not so much for plastic bags and last year's sweat pants. The research scientist quoted, who has examined more than 200 whale carcasses over 20 years, says he has never seen so much trash in a whale's stomach. Sad. Something so simple as putting trash in a proper trash can or recycling.

Only we have the power to change it. Food for thought.

You can read the article here if you are interested.

***Ally

True Story #47

I work in a small office. There are three treatment rooms, a back office, reception area and bathroom with sink & toilet. You get the idea.

In the back treatment room were some sweaty running clothes hanging on a hook to dry. I figured that Co-Worker #1 went for a run before work or during a break. In the back of my mind, I am wondering - what about a shower? Cause we don't have one in the office.

Then I see in the bathroom cabinet, a bottle of shampoo.

Did I mention we do NOT have a shower? Is Co-Worker #1 bathing In.The.Sink?? The same sink I was about to brush my teeth in after lunch?

I'm trying not to throw up a little in my mouth while telling this story.

Grossed out,
Ally

Post It Note Tuesday

If you want to play along, check out SupahMommy's site. It's great fun!

Memoir Monday

Travis at I Like To Fish started Memoir Monday.
I've tried it out, and kinda like it... so here's another moment from the past.
Check out Travis' blog, if you haven't...

Sometimes teenage girls can be a terror. I know, this isn't a freaking surprise, right? But I was one, so I have first hand knowledge.

I spent quite a few summers going to summer camp. It was a horse camp in the middle of Eastern Washington. It was dry, hot desert, and so much fun I never wanted to go home. I started out as a camper, then I progressed into going as a "junior staff". That essentially meant that we went for free, worked our asses off, and got lots of "extras" for rewards. Extra privileges, extra fun. Things like overnight camp-outs by canoe on the other side of the lake, field trips, extra food. We got to sleep in "staff" quarters. And we got to mess around a ton. (Eventually I became a full-fledged staff member - for some reason they kept letting me come back - receiving a piddly amount of money for my fun. But that's another story.)

One year, there was a handful of us girls, with only a couple of guys. One of the guys - David - was French, shy, quiet. My friend Christina and I were loud, wild and obnoxious. Poor guy. It was the year of Rapture by Blondie (if you've never heard it, enlighten yourself - look it up on youtube and listen - the real beginning of rap - ha!). Christina and I knew every word, and walked around singing it. Loudly. Among other ridiculous loud songs. I'm sure we couldn't sing, but we didn't care. We thought we were all that.

One night poor David was sleeping on a bottom bunk and Christina, me and another girl snuck into the boys quarters and hung an old cow skull right above his head. (Not a decorative cow skull - a real, from a dead cow, skull) We attached it to the bottom of the bunk above him, so it was staring right at him. Apparently he was a sound sleeper, because he snored through it all. And then we snuck back out.

Yes, we heard David yell from our quarters on the other side of the camp lodge. And we laughed ourselves silly. We thought we were the shit. It was only one of many practical jokes played through the years. And really a fairly tame one. Unless you were David. A shy, quiet, French boy stuck in the hot, desert in hicksville at a summer camp with hormonal, crazy teenage girls.

***Ally

Mama's Sick

I have a cold. Stuffy, runny, sneezy, achy, tired, feel-like-crap cold.

Twenty-four hours prior to my full-blown sickness I announced loudly and often to my family that I was getting sick. Not that I thought it would do any good. If you are a wife or mother you know that everyone counts on you to buy the soft Kleenex and cold medicine. But when Mama's sick, nobody cares but Mama. I was prepared to fend for myself for the duration of my cold.

Wednesday morning I really couldn't get out of bed but I had to get my son off to school.

Here is where this story get really weird.

My teenage son got up for school without my assistance. Shocking, I know. He peeked into my room and told me to stay in bed, then came back with exactly 2 tablespoons of bright orange Dayquil in a little plastic cup.

"Drink this," he whispered. "I will start your coffee and make my own breakfast."

Was I dreaming?

I got up anyway and headed downstairs for the couch. A few minutes later my son brought me the following items:

Pillow, blanket, box of Kleenex, and a small trashcan.

Then he slipped out the front door for school.

I stayed on the couch in my pajamas all day, slipping in and out of consciousness while Lifetime movies played in the background. Hours passed and eventually my son and husband returned from school and work, respectively. My son asked what was for dinner.

"I am going to make some salmon," I said, wondering how I could do that without standing.

"No you're not, Mom, I am making dinner."

I had spent a lot of money on that wild Alaskan salmon and didn't really want him trying to cook it. Thinking quick, I said, "There are fishsticks and french fries in the freezer."

"That's what I am making."

And he did.

And I didn't have to get off the couch.

I love that kid.

-Lela

I Make Grown Men Cry

I was recently explaining to a friend what I do for a living. I am a muscular therapist, specializing in a specific treatment for sports injuries, repetitive motion injuries and the occasional postural problem. It's pretty cool stuff and I get to work with a fair amount of cool athletes. The treatment itself can be a little bit "uncomfortable" (read: painful) while it's being done, but the results are amazing and totally worth it. I happened to mention to my friend, that in my observation women have a higher pain threshold than men. And with men, the bigger the guy, the wimpier they seem to be. Their pain threshold seems to be a little lower. (I'm trying to be nice, here, it's quite a bit lower.) I jokingly said, "I make grown men cry for a living." Okay, I've actually said it before, because I'm kind of a smart-ass like that.

I had a new client yesterday - 6'5" - big guy. He's on the table and I'm working on his shoulder. I show him the motion he has to do and while he does that, I go to work on the muscle/tendon.

After three passes, and him grimacing, he says:
"So do I just keep doing this until I cry?"

Me:
"Yes, in fact I just told a friend that I make grown men cry for a living. Is it working yet?"

At least he had a sense of humor. Such is a day in my office.

I love my work. Really.

***Ally

There's No Place Like Home

I just spent Spring Break in Seattle with my parents, living with them in their small house for an entire week. My parents are loud, opinionated, and they smoke. They are also hilarious and would do anything in the world for me. Here are some of the more memorable things they did to embarrass me while I was there:


My mother is incapable of whispering, so even though I warned her not to make any unnecessary comments in church on Easter Sunday, she proceeded to "whisper" to me, "I think the piano player is blind!" And no, he wasn't blind. Or deaf.


While watching a T.V. show my mother loudly comnmented on the actress's breasts. "She has small ninnies." Ninnies? Why?


In an effort to explain my new healthy lifestyle to my parents, I made the mistake of telling them I try to only eat things that come from the earth. My dad said, "Why don't you eat some of your mother's tulips?" And my mother replied, "Why don't you dig up some dirt and eat that?" Thanks for the support.


My parents keep their heat at a freezing 67 degrees. When I stated my feet were cold my mother said, "That's because of your diet." Yeah, fruits, vegetables and lean protein will do that.


Speaking of vegetables, none were going to be served on Easter. The menu consisted of potato salad, macaroni salad, ham and rolls. I told my mom I would gladly buy the ingredients for a salad and veggie platter. Her response? "We don't need any G*damn vegetables!" I did it anyway.


We finally came to an agreement (sort of) a couple days into my stay. I told them I would lay off their smoking if they would lay off my "crazy" diet.


It didn't last long.


They are crazy but I love them.


-Lela

Post It Note Tuesday

If you want to play along, check out SupahMommy's site. It's great fun!

Monday Morning Blahs

Alarm goes off. Dammit.

Hit snooze.

Me: "I don't want to get up. You go make the boy's lunch, K?"

Him: "But you'd just have to get up in a little bit to shower anyway. You should probably do it."

Me: "But the extra 20 minutes of sleep would do me good."

Him: "You are already awake. You're talking to me."

Me: "I'm talking in my sleep. I can doze right back off."

Him: "You do better when you have more time to get ready. You better do it."

Me: "If I get a little extra sleep, I might not be too tired tonight..."

Him: "Okay."

Me: "Forget it. Nevermind. I'm already awake now, like you said." Throwing off the covers and getting up.

And the world keeps going 'round.

***Ally

Things I Learned This Week

I believe you should never stop learning.

However, some things learned are more monumental than others...

Things I learned this week:

My 15 year old can eat a whole frozen Trader Joe's pizza by himself. Along with a protein/fruit smoothie. I really need to cook two at a time if I, or my husband, hope to eat any.

It really weirds me out to see the nerdy guy from high school make sexual innuendo jokes on facebook toward another gal from high school. Eww.

I can actually workout for more than 30 minutes on the treadmill without dropping dead from boredom! I learned to do ladder climbs and intervals and to rely heavily on my iPod instead of the boring tv - all things that break up the monotony of watching the lights move around the little track on the control board. This will suffice until the weather clears up.

When I have emails, tweets, facebook posts, texts and ESPN baseball updates all coming to my cell phone, it makes for a lot of phone chirping. A lot.

The Seattle Mariners are NOT off to a good start. $#%^&*@#$%!!!!!!

Teaching a 15 year old to do laundry is not as scary as it seems. As long as you stand there and make sure he does it right.

Sometimes it's just better to say what's on your mind and get your point across. For instance, when someone screws your schedule up, it's better to just say, "This doesn't work for me and you need to fix it." Who knew it would actually work?

Friends ROCK! Plans made with the girls tonight. Plans made with another couple in two weeks. Blog friends leave awesome comments (Thanks blog friends!). Text friends crack me up. AND... LELA IS IN TOWN!!!!!!! And we are spending the day together today! (Pics and stories coming soon!!!)

Have a FABULOUS weekend - and never stop learning! Even the mundane things :-)

***Ally

It's Been Done

I know this has been done, and done, and done. So let me just say, I rarely look at my Google Analytics. I mean, sheesh, I barely have time to post, read posts, tweet, facebook and check my freaking email. I can't obssess about that.

But I was bored, so I looked. And of course, I looked at the search keywords. If you don't know what that is, it's what people are entering in their search browser that ends up with them clicking on us.

braless overalls - Huh. Not really my thing.

airport germs - Guilty. I've talked and talked about it. Ga-freaking-ross.

random hairs on body - Guilty again. Say thank you to aging.


"going braless" - Yes, with quotes. I don't really think Lela and I talk about that much. What's with the braless hits?


"he was staring at me" masturbating:blogspot.com - Guessing they didn't find what they were looking for.

and masturbating "he was staring at me" - Oh, but apparently they gave it another try! Maybe reversing the order of the words will change the results! Not!

"her preteen lips" - Eww. Preteens, we've talked about. The zit near my lip, I've talked about. Never together, thank you very much. Pervs.

"sanitary belt" - Oh Lela, that's all you and your crazy mama.

"she's out of shape" - I'm getting offended now.

bubblegum tree - Wha?

is it normal to hate doctors - Why, yes it is. Not all of 'em, but a good hand full.

my mom in pantyhose - Again, wha?

torture tube - Had to think about that one. I'm thinking it had to do with flying in an airplane. Though I went through some other thoughts first.

pubic hair - What kind of site do they think we're running here?

Mindless entertainment for a boring day. I clearly need some excitement in my life!

***Ally

TP - Yes, toilet paper

All over the front yard.

FYI: This is not my house, but I felt it set the scene nicely!

That's what I woke up to yesterday morning. I opened the door to get the paper and saw TP through the bushes, around the porch, over the car.

First, I laughed. I totally find TPing to be harmless teenage fun. (Eggs and paintballs? Not so harmless. This was harmless.)

Second, I said a little thanks that we do not have any trees in the front yard. Cause getting it out of the tops of trees is when it makes you cranky.

Then I wondered, who? My son had been at a birthday party down the street until midnight. It wasn't there when he came home. Some of the kids had turned it into a sleepover (translation for teenage boys: stay up all night playing video games), but my son had opted to come home. I thought maybe the other boys had come by later.

But then I saw the door handle. And the sweet little bow tied around it with TP. That, my friends, is not the work of a teenage boy. That is the work of GIRLS.

So I laughed some more and patiently waited for my son to wake up (spring break and all) to show him the handiwork. Turns out girls can't keep a secret. He'd had a text come in at 2am asking "Are you home?". Luckily, the phone is required to be off at night.

My only regret is that I didn't get pictures before he cleaned it up. Yes, they were his friends, HE can clean it up.

My only question is - what the heck is wrong with my "guard" dog who never made a peep? This dog will bark if the neighbors across the street get in or out of their car during the day. If someone walks down the sidewalk. If a cat crosses the road. But once she goes to bed? Nada. She won't even get up to bark at coyotes howling in the back field. Worthless, I tell ya.

***Ally

Post It Note Tuesday

If you want to play along, check out SupahMommy's site. It's great fun!












NOTE: The three pounds gained overnight? Water. It's a totally freaky feeling, as it wasn't due to PMS. That and not being able to walk because I worked out too hard....

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

I need a break from the rain.

First, let me say that we have had the most mild winter of anywhere in the country. So while many of you were snowed or frozen in, we only had one week-long spell of hitting freezing temps. And that was back before Christmas. So, no, I don't have much right to complain.

But it's my blog, so complain I will! The weather has been truly dreadful lately. We had a week or two of back and forth - a couple sunny days, a couple showery days, repeat. Those are bad enough, seeing as how my mental status seems to be tied directly to the sun. Total roller coaster.

But then the skies pulled out the big guns. Or the big buckets. As in buckets and buckets of rain. And wind. And hail. And lightening. And a couple teaser sun breaks just for good measure. Of course they were quickly wiped away by the dark clouds. Ugh!

Maybe I have SAD. Or maybe, as I frequently claim, there was a mix up in life and I was SUPPOSED to be born somewhere where the sun shines more more often than not. But here I am in the Pacific Northwest, where summer starts July 5th and ends the middle of September. That's about two months for anyone counting. And our summers are spectacular. Mountains and lakes and water and blue sky and mild but warm temps. They are truly to die for. And then there's the other 10 months of the year. We survive those to get the summer.

I just saw the forecast for the next week. Another week before they predict a PARTLY cloudy day. Until then, more rain and showers.

Yes, I know I can move. And likely I will. But not until my son is out of high school, and even then it will depend on where he goes to college. So until then.... SEND ME SOME SUN PLEASE!! Before I lose my freaking mind!!

Here comes the rain again,
Raining in my head like a tragedy,
Tearing me apart like a new emotion...

Ugh!!
***Ally

PS - Hope you all had a Happy Easter! (See, I haven't totally lost it!!!)

Biggest Loser, Hopefully

I signed up for the "Beach Ready Boot Camp Challenge" with my trainer and about 20 other brave women. I am pretty sure I am the biggest one in the bunch, but I am using that to my advantage. You see, there is a cash prize of $200 for the highest percentage of weight lost. Everyone knows fat people lose weight faster than thin people, right? Haven't you ever watched The Biggest Loser?

So, bloggy friends, I am putting my starting weight out there for the world to see: 183.8. I have until the end of May to get fit and drop some pounds. Wish me luck! Good or bad, I will keep you all posted.

In case you were wondering why an overweight, grown woman would tell the whole (blog) world exactly how fat she is, down to the tenth of a pound, here is why:

I am tired of being a slave to food and the size of my hips, stomach, butt. By posting my weight, whether it goes up or down, I hope that it will free me of my insecure body image.

Which reminds me of a funny story. I went jogging (in shorts) the other day and happened to follow a young, fit woman in tight workout attire. Up ahead was a group of construction workers waiting in line for the lunch wagon, or as we call it in California, the "roach coach". She jogs by them and they all turn to watch her cute butt going by.

I was next.

Nothing. No head turns. No cat calls.

And you know what? I was relieved. For the first time in my 43 years I didn't care about my jiggly, bare thighs.

Maybe my plan is already starting to work : )

-Lela

Spacebook

Spacebook is the name my husband calls facebook to irritate my son. He calls facebook and My Space - Spacebook and MyFace. See how easy it is to irritate a 15 year old?

Yes, as I've mentioned previously, I have a private facebook page. By private, I mean it is in no way linked to our blog. My worlds can't collide in that manner. Then I wouldn't be able to write about them here.

Speaking of worlds colliding. That's kind of what happens on facebook. I started with some old summer camp friends, then came the high school friends, then the current friends, then family members. Sometimes those worlds don't need to be intermixing, if you know what I mean.

I've had some weird shit sent to me on that site. Let's start with the kid I had a crush on back in 7th grade. Yes, 30 years ago. (And let's not comment on my age, eh?) A private message in which he rambled something about did I still live in the area and then with no punctuation whatsoever went into how he still felt bad for making me cry back when we were kids and how it felt good to make amends now in life.

Um, so, how's that 12-Step Program coming for ya, dude? Seriously? Did I cry? Probably, I was 12. And I was a girl. I probably cried over a lot of things, but I don't really remember crying over you. Thanks, though.

Then there's the guy who I don't really remember who tries to instant message me anytime he sees me online on facebook. Cause if you don't know, facebook shows you who of your "friends" are online with you. (I just hit the little X that closes the IM window... must be a computer malfunction!) Or the girl from summer camp who wrote me about a time that two friends and I got her in trouble. 30 years ago. Great to hear from you, too! huh. The girl who comments on everything I say... and I cannot remember her. Thanks for the comments, though! Or the guy who got too tipsy and messaged me about how cool he still thinks I am (he hasn't seen me in 23 years) - and what a great friendship we used to have. Could it have been that cool since we didn't stay in touch? Though he was interested in my current career and is still someone I would want to be in touch with as friends. But, put down the wine bottle, dude! For the record, he did apologize for the tipsy messaging and we had a great conversation. Privately. On the phone where it belonged.

Weirdness. But highly entertaining weirdness. To avoid being the weird one, I have a few suggestions:

1. No drunk messaging or posting. Not.A.Good.Idea. Embarrassing for all, but especially if it's you.

2. If someone wronged you, or you wronged someone else, in the way distant past... facebook is probably not the place to make amends. And if it happened recently, you probably have a better way to get a hold of them. Unless they totally aren't taking your calls, in which case you have bigger fish to fry.

3. If you weren't really friends with someone in high school, and you somehow managed to "friend" them on facebook, you probably don't need to comment on everything they write. Or really anything they write, unless your comment is incredibly witty and flattering. Cause they only accepted your "friend request" to be nice.

4. If you've recently linked up your cell phone to facebook, make sure you realize when you are private messaging someone vs. posting on their wall for the entire world to see from your phone. I may or may not have learned this the hard way. Just sayin'.

5. Please leave your politics OFF your wall. Just this morning some jack from high school posted some rant about his political viewpoint. Which got other jacks commenting back and turned into this weird spectacle that was almost uncomfortable to read. Really not what I want to read.

6. The whole point of facebook is that other people are reading it. Lots of other people. If you are having a one on one conversation with someone, maybe switch to the private message feature. Ya think?

7. There's no #7, I was just getting into the list thing. Just, you know, do as I tell my son: Don't be sending anything in written form (text, email, public facebook post) that you wouldn't say to someone's face. Just sayin'.

***Ally