Quote

For No Apparent Reason

Let's have a Marilyn day.

Couldn't you just swoon looking at this? Lovely.

The Kickoff

It's Super Bowl Sunday!

I'm kinda excited about seeing Beyonce sing at halftime today. I shouldn't admit that. She is fascinating!

We opted to not have anyone over (just a couple of friends) for the game. Pup is busy with work this time of year and has to hunker down in his office most of the day although he would have been a willing participant.

We had company last weekend and I'm still recovering because I'm . . . I'm . . . oh hell I'll say it. I'm in a down place at the moment.

No damn reason for it. Except I live in Minnesota and it is dark for a good portion of the day and it's been gloomy for days and I might veer towards down times here and there. More here than there at the moment.

I am climbing out from this down place.

My friend Alli McBeal reminded me I have a tanning bed and to get my ass in there for a recharge. She's right! It helps beat the blues since I can't live in Mexico for the entire winter season. Although I swear I will someday. Love you Mexico.

FitFluential plan for the day is a little work, a little working out, some game and commercial watching, and a little cooking.

Here comes the sun.

DietBet

I'm participating in a challenge through my Fitfluential group. Since all of us resolutioners are resolutioning it seemed like a way to jumpstart.

Our challenge is we bet $25 dollars we can lose 4 percent of our bodyweight by a goal date. The winners split the pot.

Why not? I'd waste $25 willy nilly here and there so why not on this? Me?

Check DietBet out and start your own challenge!

~~~~~~~~

I was wandering around yesterday looking for inspiration and found a post by a very motivated guy that talked about blogs that start out hot and heavy and then limp off into . . . I don't know where they go! They just disappear.

Yup.

Gah and oh oh.

I'm allowing January to kick my butt. I'd rather kick it's dark, dreary, cold ass.

Okay.

We went to dinner with daughter Lorenzo the other evening and she was sharing how a friend of hers is going for her training certificate (I think?? Something like this.) and is training Lorenzo and one of Lorenzo's friends. Working them to death. It sounds good!

My friend and fellow blogger tPretty (love you T) has always been the gold-standard for fitness. She puts the rubber on the road always and if she lived by me I would be begging her on a daily basis to train me.

I have another friend that is training for half marathons and mentioned how addicted he has become to running.

This sounds good to me as well. Not becoming addicted to running because that is not my thing, but becoming addicted to fitness and nutrition and bombing the blues.

Bombing the Blues.

Quote

Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance-hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits.

The person closest to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling.

~Tina Fey

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I'm all done growing up (which, let's face it, will never happen) I want to be smart, funny, and adorkable like this woman.

I already have the glasses. The rest can't be far behind yes?

Just Like Audrey Hepburn

It's been a long and hot summer.

And, as mentioned, I've been wearing nothing but skirts, dresses, tanks. Nothing with legs or sleeves. My happiest days are when I can say, "I'm wearing only two things!" Pup usually says, "Take one off!"

That's how hot it's been. And now it's September. And still pretty hot. And I work retail. Where you're running around. And I'm hot. I just am!

Yesterday morning I had to open at The Turnstyle. I haven't opened in a loooooong time. In fact a lot of this hot summer I wasn't at work at all with all the Barnabee squiring I was involved in (smooches Barnabee).

Before I leave for work I stand in front of my closet. Peering into its depths. There is more in there than needs to be - hey, I'm a woman. But just between you and me? That closet is out of control. No matter how much I edit and purge and ween out crap, it's full full full.

Imagine the sound of hangers being shuttled to the left, click click click. I go deeper and deeper.

Aha! A little black dress. Sleeveless. To the knee. A kick pleat in the back. Price tag still on. WTH?

A woman phenomenon. We buy stuff on sale. My favorite phrase is, "It costs less than a latte!" Nothing makes me happier than a price tag with several strikes through the price making it lower and lower and than it's thrown in a 75 percent off rack. Oh the heaven of it all. Even at The Turnstyle, a consignment store, I love when it's at least 50 percent off.

But I digress, of course.

I clip off the tag. Look lovingly at the price. "Ooooo, that was a good shopping day." I slip on the dress.

I like to turn to the side, suck everything in perfectly, admire my front bumps and back bumps, and convince myself how amazing I look. Hey - it's all presentation. Even when you catch a glimpse of the back bump in motion. Oye vey!

I throw my badly behaved hair up high in a clip, pull out some very artful hangy-pieces (yup - otherwise known as what-the-hell hair) and call it a day.

I trot off to work where new young un interim manager/intern Izzy and Shelley-belly tell me I look just like Audrey Hepburn.

Yup, I look exactly like this, right down to the sunglasses and coffee.

Oh the power of a little black dress! And be quiet y'all. A girl can have a moment yes?

Hooches - repeat after me - I may not be everything, but I sure am something!

Go get em!

Whipping Cream

No reason for this shot - it's just purdy

I am a hair twister. Like a maniac.

When I'm reading, when I'm thinking, when I'm daydreaming, when I'm procrastinating.

It's something I have done since the 3rd grade. It started after my momma had given me a home perm (oh dear lord!) and I had curls all over my head that felt good when they plopped plopped around my finger while touching them.

It makes you look a tad crazy at times. I've even twisted my hair while stuck in traffic! Well - you gotta do something!

So . . . this morning I sat down and wanted to write a post. I didn't have a solid idea that I wanted to write about and I was letting my mind run around like a puppy without a leash to see what it would come up with.

So you can only imagine the hair twisting that was going on.

Here is the sentence I started out with:

I opened up the refrigerator door, spotted the whipping cream in the canister, and squirted a huge huge squirt directly into my mouth. Couldn't even talk for a few moments afterwards it was so delicious and a bit shameful.

WTH? That is the sentence that couldn't! I gotta say, the brain is a wondrous thing that I will never get tired of. Thank god for that because it's the only one I have.

But, sadly, that sentence did not inspire any additional thoughts. It's a good sentence regardless. Ha!

BTW - do you ever squirt whipping cream into your coffee? You know - when you're out of cream? I've done that more times than I care to admit to. 

So, here is the post that couldn't. Some days are inspired. Some days are waiting for inspiration.

I KNOW you all know what I'm talking about.

How you doin?

Visualization

I saw this great idea the other day either on Pinterest or Tumblr (can't find it now!).

The road to getting fit can at times seem lonely and demotivating.

The results can seem far far away when you're at the beginning. Small progress isn't always measurable in the beginning.

That's why I LOVED the photo of the little stones in jars. A simple idea that appeals to the visually inspired. I need to see something at this, the stuttering-start of the journey.

There is also the little kick I might get when I get to move some rocks from one jar to the other.

Love it.

I Find My Inspiration

Where do you find it? Do you post photos of yourself at a smaller size? Do you post photos of yourself heavier? Do you post photos of others that inspire you?

Here is a woman with a body I think is great. Just a natural body. No huge, fake boobies, no crazy muscles; just a strong and lean look that I aspire to.

Link me with inspiration you are finding!

Sexy Sadie

Pup and I are about to book an April trip. He works long and hard hours during the tax season and this year we are heading someplace (it's getting narrowed down) where there will be lots of beach, lots of sun, lots of theme drinks, lots of shopping, and maybe even lots of golf.

We are Minnesotans. We are pale, chubby, and not beach ready in the least. Not that all Minnesotans look like this, but enough do that I sometimes hear our part of the country talked about in a not so flattering light. I have amused myself many times in Las Vegas by picking out the people I'm certain are from Minnesota. They are usually wearing bad t-shirts and fanny-packs around largish bellies.

So . . . I am in a competition with a co-worker. We are getting to our fighting-weight and competitive bodies for our April trips. I'm trying to get Pup to participate as well.

Better eating, better exercise, and better feeling. And hopefully better looking.

Here is what I aspire to . . .

I stumbled on this just a few minutes ago while cleaning out my photo-log in my blog folder. I was struck by it once again.

This photo made the rounds a few months ago and I remember marveling when I saw it. A woman of a certain age, looking a certain way. A hot, non-bobblehead kind of body.

Helen - will you be my poster-girl?

Helen Mirren

Consigning Women

The best part of working in a consignment store, for me, is all the women.

I love men, but hanging out with women every day is great.

Good and bad. We're an awesome bunch.

The pain-in-the-ass women I see come in and out of the shop I can easily dismiss when the joy-to-be-around women outnumber them so.

I could talk about the consigner who said to me in a voice dripping with bitchitude after I had to ask her last name for a second time, "Sweetie, did you skip lunch today"? She wasn't worried about my blood sugar, she was just a bitch. Next! lol

Or the woman who said to me yesterday while she was picking up a few of her items that were expiring from her contract, "Oh I'm so exhausted! I can't possibly find these. Where are the blazers?" Here they are woman, you can do it. What? You won't recognize your own blazers? How would I recognize them?? And I promptly made myself scarce. (Store policy is consigners have to find their own property; we just don't have time to pull everyone's consignments at the end of their contracts. They know this, but manipulation is the name of the game.)

I'd rather talk about all the other women.

The ones that are in the middle of losing weight and dropping off one size of clothing to consign while shopping the store for a smaller size.

The ones that are young mothers and just want a minute to shop. A minute to find something cute they can afford because they're SAHM's and the budget is a bit tight for cute stuff.

The ones that come to me to ask for help, guidance, color advice, fit advice, styling advice. So open and appreciative.

The mothers and daughters that shop together. The daughter helping mom stay current without looking crazy. The mom pitching in on a few items the daughter wants just because she loves her.

The husbands and wives that come in where the husband is truly interested in watching her try on a few dresses. How awesome is that hubby?

The best friends that shop the store, calling out to each other as they find something incredible for the other one. "Roxanne! You have to try on this top! It will show off your twin sisters perfectly! You have the boobies for it!"

The ones that are just joys to meet and you get to chat for a hot minute with them. Laugh with them. Some days, even cry with them.

I just love women!

Smooches to all of you and I wish all of you could come in my store and we could laugh and cry and shop and look adorable.

We Can't All Be Leaders

I stumbled on this a few weeks ago. It's fascinating!

When you find a great idea/person/concept jump on in!

On the other hand, just because people are jumping on a bandwagon is no reason to jump yourself.

Left and right. Black and white. Up and down.

Think for yourself and all that.

What do you guys think?

One Man's Heaven is Another Man's Hell

Alex Noriega

I love this cartoonist.

~~~~~~~~~

I twist my hair. Really often and really energetically.

When I'm thinking, when I'm reading, when I'm talking, when I'm writing, when I'm zoning.

Half the time my hair is in a knot, twisted into a hair clip and chunks pulled out and pinned up on the opposite side. It's crazy, but I've done it since the third grade.

Most bad habits get dropped way before middle school. How many adults do you know that still bite their fingernails? Or use a pacifier?

But twisting is still going on here on my head.

~~~~~~~

I meant to talk about the idea behind the cartoon.

My heaven is digging at a flea market, going slowly through a thrift store, scoring a find at a consignment store, reading a book I cannot put down, listening to the radio (sometimes), weeding (weird), dusting (told ya), and obsessing.

There are more, but they don't sound interesting. Today anyway.

What are the things that are heavenly to you?

Words I Love

shenanigans

brilliant

boner

obdurate

Jeep

wiener

empanada

mojito

daughters

organized

daisy

seduce

sale

published

crapinoli

art

arse

thick
What are your favorites?

Vogue

I do not watch Glee and probably never will, but I heard about this video from the fabulous Sue Sylvester Jane Lynch.

Love this!

Vogue from Glee featuring Jane Lynch

(Hulu is loading incredibly slow for me so I'm only providing a link, but watch it!)

Schlumpy, Frumpy, Dumpy

cartoon courtesy of nataliedee.com

Eee gads, what a mood!

I'm reading my horoscope this morning and find this further down the page. Holy Crapinoli! No wonder I'm feeling like a lukewarm-mess these past few days!

The Cancerian has many potential faults. They can be untidy, sulky, devious, moody, inclined to self-pity because of an inferiority complex, brood on insults (very often imagined), yet are easily flattered. They can be tactless and difficult yet, because they are normally ambitious, they will curry favor by floating with majority opinions, outlooks and fashions of the day. As a result they often change their opinions and loyalties and, indeed, their occupations, and lack stability. They are easily corrupted and, because they are convincing romanticizers, can make successful confidence tricksters. Their romanticism in another sense make them ardent supporters of causes, for example a football team with whose heroes they can identify in a world of fantasy.

Could I be the John Edwards of my neighborhood?

~~~~~~~~

Feeling a bit stuck of late.

How do ya'll unstick? How do you negotiate to motivate? How do you do it to be it?

Oh Wait! Let me look for that.

It's time to cook a big-ass ham for many of us.

I'm not a huge fan of big-ass ham, but this morning I am digging through all the recipes I've gathered during my 21 years on this earth (ha!!).

I'm not a great cook, but I have been a lover of cooking since I was about 12 I think. I'd sit in my kitchen with my momma, going through her recipe box, and copying down some that appealed to me.

If I remember right, the ones I got from that time were mostly pie, fudge, cookie-type stuff.

Then I started jotting down other recipes from her files. Sadly, I never learned how to make her kick-ass roasts. Just can't duplicate that incredible taste. It's a momma-memory now.

I got my own recipe box (still have it) and started gathering my own recipes. When I was in my 20s and dating my wasband I really developed a love for recipes. Had to cook my way into his heart don't you know. Luckily for me the man would eat ANYTHING and enjoy it.

We had kids and I was a stay at home momma for a few years. Very budget-challenged years. I got incredibly good at dollar-stretching and the recipes grew and grew. Lots of hot dishes (shout out to Minnesota - hell ya!) and meatloaf stuff. Gathered tons of recipes from my momma again.

Had gardens with tomatoes, zucchini, broccoli, beets, green beans, winter squash, carrots, peas. Tons of other crap I can't remember.

Lots of canning. Jeez I used to kinda love canning. My girls will tell you different. That I was a crabby beast during canning days (late nights getting the stuff put up - tomatoes wait for no man or martha).

I sure did enjoy how the finished product looked. All those gorgeous jars full of colorful nummy stuff.

Going through the recipes is memory-loaded. So many of these were written from my momma's own hand and many are ones I dragged out again and again when the girls were babies.


So on Sunday I will bake my big-ass ham, roast my new potatoes, and make a bunny cake with marshmallow frosting. And I'll think about my momma.

Pattie and George

Pattie Boyd Harrison Clapton has been the inspiration for five songs from two different rock stars according to wiki. I knew about three of them, but five?

Harrison's, Something and For You Blue, and Clapton's Layla, Wonderful Tonight, and Bell Bottom Blues.

Creative is as creative does I like to say.

Well, I'd say it if you were listening wouldn't I?

;)

She really is something to be sure.

Perfection Redemption

Today, I've been spinning my wheels, running on empty, chasing a high, and any other schlocky cliche you can think of. A fretful, unproductive day.

Got me thinking.

If we are so busy worrying about perfection. Worrying about 100 percent, or the best, or the thinnest, or the cutest, or the smartest what is happening right now that we're not paying attention to? What flavor? What sensation? What touch, look, thought, feeling haven't I really tasted today?

When my darling Sarah Bella was little I walked her down our driveway so she could ride her bike over to her best friend's house down the street. I wanted to watch.

She took off, her hair bouncing back and forth, little legs peddling away. An ordinary happening that is a forever kind of memory for me. I wish I had millions of them. How many have I missed?

What did you miss today?

I Want to Be Like Samantha Stevens

I TiVo Bewitched and keep a stockpile of them available for nights I cannot fall asleep. I like to turn on an episode and get lulled to sleep with Sam schlepping around in her perfect 60s kitchen, solving problems with just a little "twitch."

Most of the episodes start with her in the kitchen, fixing breakfast for Derwood. I used to think I preferred the first Darrin, but I have now come to believe that he didn't matter at all. It was only Sam.

I love how she's always ready to start her day. She's never sitting at the computer at 10 a.m., still in her flannel jammie-pants and camisole, cold coffee sitting on her left, cream congealing in the mug. No! She doesn't ever have uncombed hair or kitchen counters full of toast crumbs.

Nope - she's chatting with Endora or hiding something from Darrin, or waiting for her daddy. Pouring coffee from a great carafe and cleaning her side-by-side fridge. I want to be her when I grow up.

Remember that song by the The Bangles?

These are the days
when you wish
your bed was
already made.



I'll get to it. I just want to have one more cup of coffee.