Hitchcock loved blond women, but Hitchcock also loved thin, cool blonds…those aloof minxes such as Grace Kelly, Tippi Hedren and Kim Novak.
I am a blond and I have ovaries. Those are the ONLY things that I share with those women. And at 49, I think my ovaries are shriveling up like raisins. Nice, tasty, Napa Valley raisins, but raisins nonetheless.
I’ve never been one of those women that men just approach. I’ve never been “a looker” per se. I’ve always had to prove that I was cute (as it were) by being louder, funnier and smarter than anyone else in the room. No guy ever approached me on the off chance I might have a dazzling personality.
What do you do? You try harder. And I am trying harder–even as my boobs continue to point toward Tierra del Fuego.
I’m talking pendulous boobs that look like German grenades.
As I get older, I’ve noticed physiological changes. When I get out of bed first thing in the morning, my bones; my joints are so, so vocal. It sounds like someone is stepping on bags of Nacho Cheese Doritos.
POP, CRUNCH; SNAP; CRACKLE…………FART!!!!!
Like I said, I’m getting older!
I have to watch my salt intake, otherwise I’d retain water like a reservoir. And fiber is becoming increasingly more important. But the biggest culprit of aging is it’s effect on the metabolism.
Things just aren’t the same. I’m not a fan of sugar or sweet stuff. Occasionally, I’ll eat a piece of candy–an M&M or two, but that’s it. My body has a tough time processing sweets because I eat them so infrequently.
For example, a few months ago, I ate an Oreo. Not five seconds later, I looked down at my thigh and saw this half dollar sized circle appear directly under the skin. It was starting to rise up. I could feel it. Suddenly, three tiny embossed letters, N-A-B, began to emerge…I could feel them through my skin! It was almost like Braille!
What was happening? Reverse stigmata? What was occurring beneath my skin? And what’s with the letters, N-A-B? An acronym, maybe? But of what?
National Association of Broadcasters????
Native American Bartenders???
Nubile and Buxom????
I looked closer: My God, it was the first three letters of Nabisco!!!!
As in Oreo.
The oddest part about this experience was that I distinctly remember chewing that cookie thoroughly!?!?
THE WALK OF SHAME
My friend Alice, sent me a picture that she’d taken of me several months ago. I took one look at it and got ill. Bile billowing ill.
And if that wasn’t enough, I was walking into my neighborhood grocery store at dusk last night. Houston is a big city; crime is rampant here and a woman has to remain vigilant, especially in parking lots.
As I walked, I kept thinking someone was following me. I turned my head–no one was there. As I approached the handicapped spaces—dammit, I KNOW I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I could feel this person. He was large, looming, scary and menacing. It was wearing the same kind of khakis shorts I was wearing.
There, I saw it again! Bastard!! I turned around very fast, only to discover………it was my own ass.
Depression, shame, guilt; all the 12-step emotions flooded me. My God!!
I stood there in the parking lot, coming to terms with the fact that I’d gained weight to the point that my ass alone was the size of a rapist.
I stood there a moment; took a deep breath and walked inside the grocery store, bound and determined to start my diet..IMMEDIATELY.
I did very well. Bought only low-calorie, low carb stuff. Took it home and was very proud and resolute.
I WOULD LOSE WEIGHT!!!!!
Then, I went to my computer and lo and behold, there was an e-mail from my ex, TWO letters of rejection from ONE potential employer and notice of three credit card accounts entering their third month of delinquency.
I could feel that familiar sting in my eyes. My head was pounding, my heart palpitating. I felt mad and overwhelmed and hungry.
The last thing I remember was running out the door. I have vague memories of going back to the store and buying a cart load of crap. Hostess this; Lay’s that.
Ben and Jerry’s.
A little Velveeta.
Then, I must have blacked out.
I woke up the next morning, feeling awful. Bloated. I just lied in my bed looking around, still a wee bit dazed.
What the hell did I do? Binge all night long???? There was nothing in my bed to suggest that. Still, I felt full. Really full. What the hell did I do??
I sat up, rubbed my face—what was this red stuff around my mouth? It had a spicy taste to it. I then attempted to stand up.
POP! CRUNCH! SNAP! CRACKLE!!!!!
I looked down at my feet. They were actually encased in two half eaten bags of Doritos. And then…
Wait for it….
Wait for it….
PEE ASS: These are but a few of the reasons why I decided to lose weight in 2008. There are now 41 pounds less of Laurie, but there’s still more to go. So, I’ve started a new blog addressing these issues and more. My longtime friend, Cheryl is joining me. Check out my new weight loss blog, won’t you?
If you don’t read, Project Fat Ass ,we’ll kill this dog!!!.