Category Archives: random blathering

As Suspected

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It is the sub­ject of a lot of yap­ping on Face­book: Glee’s ver­sion of the Rocky Hor­ror Pic­ture Show.  If you read my post yes­ter­day (of course you did), you’re aware that I was dis­ap­pointed in the cast­ing of the show within the show. I’d given the writ­ers a break by assum­ing it could have been due to a sub-plot story about cen­sor­ship or decency.  If you watched the pro­gram then you know impos­ing a safety net on my judg­ment was cor­rect.  There is no deny­ing that let­ting a diva-esque girl fill the plat­forms of Tim Curry as Dr. Frank-N-Furter was a stretch.  My son, who has never seen the orig­i­nal, enjoyed the vocals.  He said he could have done with­out the ensem­ble of the patent leather bustier and knee high boots.  I’m still peeved that Magenta’s solo in “The Time Warp” went to Quinn (Dianna Agron) rather than the more sala­cious San­tana (Naya Rivera). Hands down she could have given the tune the deviant edge it requires.  Mil­que­toast has no place in Rocky Hor­ror.  Even Emma Pillsbury’s ver­sion of “Touch-a, Touch-a Touch Me” had more raci­ness and fire — she’s as Won­der Bread as you can get. That is until Quinn sang.  Was I the only one wish­ing Puck was in the episode? I know Mark Salling is pur­su­ing a solo career, but cripes! The show’s delin­quent could have ruled the stage on this install­ment of America’s favorite show about dorks and song birds.  Another thing, were you hop­ing Meat­loaf would have filled his old role as Eddie? Maybe it was just me.

OK, kid­dies. I need to go work out before head­ing out for a long day of work. 

Keep it groovy!!

    Knee Deep in the Hoopla

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    Fri­day night was a blast!  The weather coop­er­ated as a small group of us laughed our asses off around the fire pit at Julie B’s Back­yard Tiki Lounge.  I’d go into detail but not I’m not will­ing to risk incrim­i­nat­ing the slightly ine­bri­ated (they know who they are).  The cam­era was left in my purse.  The flash of a dig­i­tal cam­era just breaks up the flow any­way.  It was totally bitchin’ to get to yap some class­mates I hadn’t seen in for­ever! One of the best moments was deliv­er­ing a let­ter and photo that had been sit­ting on my desk for over a month.  The photo was proof that when a bunch of foot­ball play­ing high school­ers get together for camp, it’s not just about bash­ing oppo­nents and talk­ing about hot girls.  Although, I’m sure some of that did hap­pen … but a moment in time was cap­tured on film that spoke vol­umes about camaraderie.

    The week­end isn’t over.  A long week­end, at that, for most.  I get today off and that’s it. So, some­one else out there needs to enjoy them­selves dou­ble time for me.  Vol­un­teers will be hard to come by, I’m so sure.

    I have a boat load of stuff to do today yet here I sit blath­er­ing while the remain­der of my cof­fee gets cold.  My work­outs need to be stepped up to another level or some­thing.  My weight hasn’t changed in a cou­ple of weeks.  That’s heavy on my mind.  HA! More like heavy on my ass and thighs.  I’m alter­nat­ing work outs. Seri­ously, I think I moved to phase 3/4 of Power 90 too soon, but 1/2 wasn’t chal­leng­ing me any­more.  Now, I’m using Turbo Jam car­dio and sculpt­ing.  It’s my own hybrid vari­a­tions to keep sur­pris­ing my body.  Next week I intend on order­ing another pro­gram that is much more intense and designed for more of what I believe my body needs at this stage of my get lean/lose weight endeav­ors.  I get bored eas­ily.  Bore­dom and lack of results is why most peo­ple quit.  That’s pri­mar­ily why I’ve given up in the past.  Food is no longer my enemy or emo­tional com­fort.  That fact alone is a giant hur­dle cleared.

    1 l Gat biscuits gravy Knee Deep in the Hoopla

    This morn­ing I woke up with visions of bis­cuits and sausage gravy danc­ing in my head.  That’s one of my all time favorite com­fort foods.  The prob­lem with mak­ing it is left­overs. I’d still be eat­ing it for days.  Don’t sug­gest freez­ing it.  My microwave defrosts quickly. I still want it how­ever the feel­ing will pass like a fart in a whirl­wind. I know I have a grad­u­a­tion party to attend later and there will be plenty of tempt­ing treats to sam­ple or ignore.  Food will always be there. Fear of not get­ting any isn’t going to run my life as it had before.  Maybe it comes from grow­ing up in a house­hold with nearly a dozen peo­ple that causes that knee jerk reac­tion.  See, the desire to eat calo­rie and fat heavy foods hasn’t really gone away.  My abil­ity to say no and to make a health­ier deci­sion is sim­ply stronger than the crav­ing.  Besides, who wants to work out for 9 hours to burn off the artery clog­ging deli­cious­ness? Not me!

    OK, now I’m just bab­bling and my ‘to-do’ list isn’t get­ting any shorter.  I wish you all a safe and joy­ful weekend.

      I want to write something

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      The will is there.  Trust me.  I’ve been putting some focus work­ing on another project.  The down­side of that is that it’s hard for me to shift my brain from one place to another.  Some­thing else that is a road­block is worry that what I write for the other project will be crap until I get my feet under me and find a com­fort zone in that realm. Hope­fully, there’s a grace period on suck­i­tude. Does any­one else find that?  It’s like being the new employee.  You’re the odd man out and all eyes are on you.  Who do you trust? Will the boss like what you bring to the table? Will the old timers place bets on how long you’ll last before you run out the door scream­ing, “Save me! Save me!!!”?

      Today is Mon­day! The Black­hawks are going to the Stan­ley Cup Finals.  Woo! That was just reported on the news.  It’s the only rea­son I men­tion it.  I don’t mind hockey. It’s a groovy sport with a really long sea­son.  I attended a cou­ple hockey games when I lived in Geor­gia.  A guy I was friends with had sea­son tick­ets for the Atlanta Thrash­ers.  Good times. That’s the extent of my hockey involve­ment.  I’m not a band­wagon jumper.

      There. I wrote some­thing.  Maybe I’ll have more to con­tribute later.

        Thought Full Thursday

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        Babbling+toon Thought Full Thursday

        This is one of those times where the ran­dom thoughts have been fir­ing like Al Capone’s Tommy Guns at the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.

        Here are a few for your read­ing enjoyment:

        • My under­pants are get­ting baggy.
        • “Stop being so pas­sion­ate about your new­found pas­sion! You’re per­ceived as a spaz­ma­tronic dip­shit. Relax” — inner voices
        • Am I really tele­pathic or is he?
        • I’d rather hear Jim Car­rey and Jeff Daniels singing “Mock­ing­bird” than lis­ten to Fantasia
        • Cashew but­ter or peanut but­ter? BOTH!
        • “Arrested Devel­op­ment” never should have been can­celed. Idiots
        • Seri­ously, women will pay to watch sequel of that schlock?
        • Does Danielle Steel still write books?
        • When did “Glam­our” mag­a­zine become “Sev­en­teen” — oh shit, I’m just that old.
        • Note to self: Do NOT attempt to wear Shape­Ups when work­ing out.
        • Her hair looks like it was hit with a paint ball gun filled with per­ox­ide pel­lets. Meow, cal­ico kitty, meow!
        • Mar­ket­ing really jacked up when they posted a nos­tril shot.
        • Wow! Michael Keaton is on “Let­ter­man” — huh. won­ders never cease.

          • There ya go. Happy Thursday!

          My First Time

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          I have to admit that it was a lit­tle intim­i­dat­ing at first. I had absolutely no idea what to do with what had been put before me. For­tu­nately, my hand­some date was more than will­ing to guide me in proper han­dling.  The most dif­fi­cult part was get­ting it to my mouth with­out mak­ing a mess all over myself.  My hand eye coor­di­na­tion is usu­ally spot on, but I’d had a lit­tle wine and it went straight to my head … not to men­tion the mere pres­ence of the charm­ing man was quite intox­i­cat­ing in and of itself.  Oh, and he smelled absolutely deli­cious. He promised what I was about to devour would send me over the moon and into a near orgas­mic state, but to be wary of too much wasabi on the first bite.  It would cer­tainly clear out my sinuses.

          Sushi.  Ever since that first mouth­ful I have craved it.  They aren’t lying when they say it is edi­ble art.  Gor­geous, but not so much that it didn’t stop me from fill­ing my gul­let.  It shocked me how fill­ing it is.  Never in my life had I mas­tered the use of chop­sticks.  The Equal pack­ets you see in the photo were used for prac­tice before our meal arrived.  Had I not learned to use them, it would have been ter­ri­bly embar­rass­ing to rely on my fin­gers, or worse — a fork. EEP!! Then again, it might have led to being fed by a gor­geous man. Damn! Me and my inde­pen­dent nature.

          Writ­ing about this didn’t stave off my crav­ings for sushi or my date. *sigh*
          Who’s up for sushi?
          Any­one?

          Always+001 My First Time

            Twenty five startling facts about me

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            My friend Angie posted this as a note on Face­book.  Since it seems I’m writerly chal­lenged lately — unless it has to do with weight loss — this seemed per­fect.  This is also major league chal­leng­ing since I don’t really find myself all that fascinating.

            For what it’s worth, I am start­ing this at 7:26 PM.  Let’s see how long it takes me to come up with twenty five ran­dom facts about myself that aren’t too crass, inti­mate or sim­ply auda­cious (hehe yeah, like that scares me.)

            shocked+people Twenty five startling facts about me1.  The smell of hot dogs (corn coated or plain) induced hor­ren­dous gag reac­tions dur­ing my preg­nancy. But I loved Nacho Cheese Dori­tos and craved beer dur­ing the entire nine months. I suc­cumbed to one of those crav­ings. ** I do not like beer on any other given day.

            2. Even though my (ex) hus­band and I took Lamaze classes, nei­ther of us man­aged to remem­ber a lick of it. Because I sus­pected this would hap­pen, I invited my sis­ter Mau­reen to be in the labor and deliv­ery room.  Thank GOD she was there because Dip­shit was useless.

            3.  My edamame shaped birth­mark is a very faint one about five inches north­east of my navel. It was darker when I was a kid and I was embar­rassed to wear two-piece swim­suits as a result.

            4.  My par­ents’ slack­ness regard­ing vac­ci­na­tions pre­vented me from get­ting one of those unsightly scars on my upper left arm like most peo­ple my age and older have.

            5.  I still have a wicked crush on the boy who took me to prom in high school.

            6.  Mon­day, April 12, 2010 marks the first time I suc­cess­fully used chop­sticks.  I had a very excel­lent, patient teacher.

            7.  As much as I attempt to be cool regard­ing my music inter­ests, pop music is a not-so-guilty pleasure.

            8.  When the sound­track for “Grease” is on, I sing every. sin­gle. song … even the ones that you only hear in the back­ground or on the jukebox.

            9.  When one of my favorite songs is play­ing at work, I will pre­tend I can’t hear any­one talk­ing to me just so I can keep singing along.  If they insist on inter­rupt­ing me, I will restart the song.

            10.  I did not watch the pre­miere episode of GLEE Tues­day night — I still haven’t seen it. I was dis­tracted by the knock of a hand­some man bear­ing gifts and an invi­ta­tion for dinner.

            11.  My son and I are para­nor­mal pro­gram junkies.  He got me hooked and says he started watch­ing them (alone) to over­come his fear of such things.

            12.  On the ball of my left foot, there is a large v-shaped scar which is a result of rip­ping it open on a nail stick­ing up on our neighbor’s sec­ond story porch when I was around 10 years old.  Seven stitches were required. I still loathe wear­ing shoes in summer.

            13.  None of the fur­nish­ings in my house were pur­chased by me. Every­thing, even the tele­vi­sions and com­puter, was handed down and I have no issues with that whatsoever.

            14. I haven’t read a book since Christ­mas 2009.

            15. In 7th grade, I was a pom-pom girl. I didn’t make it my 8th grade year because I slacked off and only went to 3 of the 5 audi­tion prac­tices.  My ego learned a valu­able les­son that year.

            16. At the age of 19 I found a lump in my left breast.  On the day of the nee­dle biopsy, I went alone rather than worry my dad.  Need­less to say, he was upset.  The result: Benign.

            17. August, 1984, I set out with my friend Tom to drive from Kanka­kee, IL to San Diego, CA.  I’m still shocked we were allowed to do it.

            18.  Apri­cot pre­serves and brie grilled on pumper­nickel or dark rye bread is a deca­dent treat for me.

            19.  Because I stopped eat­ing fast food, drink­ing soda and pur­chas­ing con­ve­nience food, I save over $200.00 a month. It’s like an instant pay increase.  For what it’s worth, I do not crave those things any more.

            20.  I don’t like being pho­tographed from the right side, but some how that always seems to be the side ran­dom pho­tos of me are taken.

            21.  Fin­ish­ing this is an incred­i­ble strug­gle.  It’s 8:28 PM cen­tral time.  I’m stuck.

            22.  I’m so accus­tomed to hav­ing my boobs smashed into bras that don’t fit, that I feel like Thelma and Louise are swim­ming in the bra that does fit. (Thank you Herroom.com)

            23.  I watch Nickelodeon’s “iCarly” even when my son isn’t view­ing it (Con­versely, I threaten to smash the TV in if “Suite Life of Zach and Cody” or “Wiz­ards of Waverly Place” is on Disney.)

            24.  “Never My Love” is cur­rently one of my favorite songs even though it’s a bajil­lion years old.

            25.  I watched every episode of “Shear Genius” on Bravo this season.

            It’s now 9:01 PM.  Cripes! Peo­ple have writ­ten chap­ters for nov­els in less time. Eesh!

              Monday!!

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              I’m prone to being obnox­ious when I feel good. So, par­don the excla­ma­tion point in the title. Oh, don’t con­fuse me with the eter­nally perky girl who appears to be on happy pills 24/7. It’s not that disgusting. 

              The month of March is nearly over. How fast it flies by when you’re hav­ing fun. Ha ha. 

              The weather fore­cast is call­ing for warmer tem­per­a­tures this week­end. WOO! We’re talk­ing hit­ting the 70s in early April. Easter might prove to be absolutely fan­tas­tic egg hunt­ing weather.  Man­cub and I skipped dec­o­rat­ing eggs last year.  The same will prob­a­bly occur this year.  He’s never really been into the activ­ity.  His favorite egg hunt­ing trea­sures were the plas­tic eggs filled with treats. It’s always about the candy with that boy.

              What’s really thrilling about the com­ing week (fol­low­ing Easter) is that I’m tak­ing time off from work. Not just a day or two, but an entire week — with excep­tion to Thurs­day, ugh.  Long story.  While spend­ing time with Man­cub is always a thrill, some of that time will be shared with a close friend whom I’ve not breathed in the same space with for two decades. This should be quite inter­est­ing.  We’ve been catch­ing up thanks to cyber­space. The sim­ple thought of talk­ing face to face while sip­ping cof­fee is sur­real beyond compare. 

              Yes­ter­day (Sun­day) Man­cub and I indulged in see­ing How To Train Your Dragon in 3D.  What a fun movie. I highly rec­om­mend it regard­less of the cin­ema for­mat you choose to view it.  On the way home we dis­cussed how long it had been since we’d gone to the the­ater together. Nei­ther of us could recall what movie it was when we’d ven­tured out to the movies.  We only remem­ber that it was rain­ing and a mad dash was made to the car.  I guess it wasn’t that great of a flick. 

              Today, as the boy was leav­ing for school, I reminded him that he’d have to make his own din­ner or walk to the store and grab some fried chicken to eat with a salad at home.  He turned and reminded me that we had plenty of food at home and he’d be fine.  What a kid, huh?

              I wish you all a great week. 

                A wiser and healthier girl

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                It never fails that when I have the oppor­tu­nity to sleep in it’s phys­i­cally impos­si­ble to do so. There were birds wildly chirp­ing out­side my bed­room win­dow. They were doing so prob­a­bly in protest to the dra­matic dip in tem­per­a­ture. Very windy. It’s a day where it’s 34°F but feels like 22°F thanks to our win­ter friend the wind chill fac­tor. Quite frankly, that wind chill can kiss my left butt cheek. I’m so over win­ter. Unfor­tu­nately, it chooses to be a stalker who can’t adhere to an order of protection.

                Lucky for me, today is a day of non-workery. My hazel­nut cof­fee was set to brew at 6:15 AM. It’s my one vice that I have elected not to give up. That mag­i­cal bev­er­age is no longer accom­pa­nied by creamer or arti­fi­cial sweet­en­ers.  Egads, you say! What? Yep. Black cof­fee with a touch of sugar or agave nec­tar*. After watch­ing an episode of The Dr. Oz Show where he dis­cusses the use of arti­fi­cial sweet­en­ers and how the brain reads them in your sys­tem, I decided it’s best to go with the real thing. I’ve become a vora­cious food label reader. Sure, gro­cery shop­ping takes a bit longer, but well worth it in the end.  There’s so much hid­den sugar in our foods that it’s alarm­ing! Pick up a ran­dom loaf of ‘whole grain bread’ and it’s likely you’ll find some form of high fruc­tose in the first five ingre­di­ents.  Thou­sands of arti­cles exist on the ‘net about hid­den forms of one of the com­mon ingre­di­ents in processed foods. Even those breads tout­ing the claim of no high fruc­tose corn syrup can secretly con­tain it in the form of honey because it’s not raw honey. Raw honey is a good guy when used in mod­er­a­tion. How­ever, it’s often processed honey cut with corn syrup — to make it more cost effec­tive — that is used in these mass pro­duced recipes.  EEK! I’m no expert by any stretch of the imag­i­na­tion, but I am becom­ing more aware of what I put in my body and my son’s grow­ing body.  As con­sumers we need to demand bet­ter, high qual­ity choices at a rea­son­able cost.

                So, off my soap box and on to other things … I’ve been obsessed lately.  There should be some apol­ogy made to those of you who click on the link for my blog hop­ing to find some Ris­sisms thrown out for humor­ous con­sump­tion.  I’m not one of those zeal­ous health con­verts that is out to save the world from itself.  What I am is excited that this new­found belief sys­tem is lit­er­ally in my brain and not just me blath­er­ing about it in hopes of mak­ing you all think I’ve turned over a new leaf toward get­ting healthy.  In turn, hop­ing to make a believer out of myself.  I believe in it like a 3 year old believes in Santa and the Easter Bunny.

                Oh shit. I did it again. I guess my soap­box wasn’t put away after all.  Oh wait, that was just a step box left over from the early ‘90s aer­o­bics class.  Put away the head band and Span­dex, Ms. Newton-John.

                What else has been going on in my life?  The place where I earn an income has become a busier place. That’s truly remark­ably good news.  More moolah in my pocket! Hope­fully that is a reflec­tion of the econ­omy tak­ing baby steps toward recov­ery. I don’t dis­cuss pol­i­tics on this blog. So please, if you com­ment, refrain from bring­ing that into the mix. It just gets ugly.

                Man­cub con­tin­ues to achieve aca­d­e­mic suc­cesses that I never saw in high school. It’s appar­ent when new con­cepts are intro­duced because his grades drop, but those dips are min­i­mal and he man­ages to bring them back up. Next year he’ll be in driver’s edu­ca­tion. Talk about a freakin’ wake up call. Crazy! It’s a good thing for my san­ity that there’s a wait­ing period before a license can be obtained. He’s already talk­ing about the kind of car he’d like to have. I hated to break the news to him that one car is all I can afford. Sorry, kiddo. In addi­tion to the learn­ing to drive deal, he’ll be old enough to get a job.  The news of that real­ity hit him harder than being with­out his own wheels.  We’ll see what can be worked out through the school and their work-study pro­gram. My first job was work­ing as a file clerk after school in my sister’s office. It wasn’t long before I was hired at Monical’s Pizza as a host­ess. Man, I loved that job. Good times and tasty pizza. What else could a high school kid ask for?  His own car.

                OK, I’ve blath­ered enough for a Sun­day morn­ing. My cup of cof­fee is empty. I need to hydrate and head to WOWY Super Gym to work out with Cha­lene John­son and her crew on Turbo Jam.

                *Agave nec­tar claims a lower glycemic index than sugar. Yet, I read an arti­cle that reveals most agave nec­tar avail­able com­mer­cially is made in Mex­ico and cut with corn syrup to keep prices rel­a­tively low. Sneaky. It just proves that you have to be a wise shop­per.

                honest labels 600 A wiser and healthier girl

                Image bor­rowed from naturalnews.com

                  Cougar = icky in the book of Riss

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                  While perus­ing my Face­book pro­file for new com­ments, I took note of the numer­ous aggra­vat­ing ads that take res­i­dence on the right side mar­gin. An X is pro­vided to dis­miss the adver­tise­ment, but not before answer­ing why you don’t like it. As soon as you give them rea­son, another ad pops up in its place and often more mis­lead­ing or offen­sive.  One such ad had a header “Classy Cougars.” Uh, whoa. Stop right there. Did that ad just call me a skanky, old broad with a lit­tle bit of cash, fake tits and the desire to uber hump 25 year old men only for the thrill of the kill?

                  If you haven’t guessed it already, I despise the term COUGAR. Loathe it. Regard it with great contempt.

                  Since it is a made up, social term, I turned to Urban Dic­tio­nary to find the com­mon def­i­n­i­tion of cougar.  Not any­where on the first page does it describe the woman I am.  Far from it and proudly so. For the record, at the time of post­ing this there are 100 def­i­n­i­tions of the older woman on the prowl for youth­ful, male flesh. After flip­ping through the pages, some of the descrip­tions detail a lower-key woman, but still on a quest for younger men who’ll sat­isfy her hunger for sex. 

                  cougar ad 300x239 Cougar = icky in the book of Riss

                  I real­ize tele­vi­sion shows like ABC’s “Cougar­town” or TVLand’s “The Cougar” try to make the term an accept­able term of endear­ment about women in their prime (40s and 50s) who have a pen­chant for younger men. Women who seek love and com­pas­sion from the younger set. To me, they depict women who, though finan­cially inde­pen­dent and seem­ingly put together, are pathetic, needy and use their quest for sex as a filler for accep­tance. But I real­ize that my per­spec­tive is par­tially due to my view of it being an insult. This brand of sex­ual rev­o­lu­tion is not how I want to be cat­e­go­rized or labeled. In fact, why must I be labeled at all? At least let me deserve the name you call me before stick­ing me with some idi­otic term.  What rubs me the wrong way about cougar is due to the usual pre­con­ceived assump­tion that unmar­ried women in their mid-life fall into the cat­e­gory. Am I sin­gle and in my mid 40s? Yes. Have I dated men younger than myself? Yes. Though I did not seek them out inten­tion­ally. Addi­tion­ally, I do not troll the bars hunt­ing young meat to slam against the wall and do to them what­ever my loins urge me to do.  I’m not a slave to my vagina. Just sayin’.

                  For the record, I am not call­ing all women skeevy just because they like to refer to them­selves as cougars. It’s prob­a­bly safe to assume those women are not aware of the neg­a­tive con­no­ta­tions attached to it. Or hell, maybe they are and rejoice in it. All I’m ask­ing is not to be called one nor assumed to be one because of my age and mar­i­tal status.

                  And now that I’ve vented, I feel bet­ter … prob­a­bly piss­ing a few peo­ple off along the way.

                  com­ments have been dis­abled, but you are wel­come to email me with your thoughts at wildhair65@gmail.com

                    Are you pondering what I’m pondering?

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                    Babbling+toon Are you pondering what Im pondering?

                    One thing peo­ple should never ask me is where my thoughts come from. Some­times crazy stuff just pops into my head and blurt! My inter­nal fil­ter often mal­func­tions. With­out ask­ing for opin­ion, I do believe I’m get­ting bet­ter at bit­ing my lip.

                    With that being said, here are some ran­dom thoughts that jumped into my head thus far today:

                    • Valentine’s Day is com­ing up. Should I bother shav­ing my legs?
                    • The whites of these organic eggs look vaguely familiar…are we sure they aren’t orgas­mic eggs?
                    • Why are the hairs on my chin course and whiter than white?
                    • Why do I change the ring tones on my phone? They are rarely utilized.
                    • Did I really bab­ble and gig­gle for 1.5 hours? I should write a note of apology
                    • Man! My hands are really ugly
                    • Oh bloody hell! Some­one needs to suck up the imposter lady bug carcasses.
                    • I wish I was cooler than being cool.
                    • Pretty brides in pretty dresses. Bitches.
                    • If I could fly I’d be there for lunch.

                    There you have it. Per­haps I should keep jour­nal for my mean­der­ing pon­der­ances. “Ram­bling thoughts for a bab­bling babe.” Should this be a reg­u­lar item on my blog? What’cha think?