Old Flames

There was a time when the guy that ditched you at prom or the chick that left you for your best friend simply disappeared from the radar...slipped out of your life, moved away, married someone else...out of sight, out of mind, anger healed, heart mended...gone.

Enter Facebook and that lot is suddenly dumped back into my lap! It's been exhausting to handle it with my signature calm. Cuts this old shouldn't be able to reopen. I've considered busting my rant out right here, right now.

(I had the perfect chance this morning...there was contact, an opening for a comment presented itself and my fucking dumb ass took the high road. Why!? Rationally, had I not been cast to the curb in that instance, my son probably wouldn't be here. I should be on my knees thanking that guy. Rationally as well, I know he got his in the end...)

Stupid stupid stupid me. I really need a job.

Being creatively neutered at the moment...

...I decided to find an anonymous penpal for intellectual correspondence and I promptly blew it. I guess I should have specified my intentions for the endeavor as he should have as well, but then the Craigslist heading under which he placed his ad was "Strictly Platonic" as in

strictly –adverb

in a strict manner; rigorously; stringently: strictly enforced.

platonic–adjective
purely spiritual; free from sensual desire esp. in a relationship between members of opposite gender.

So what the fuck, dude? One to two sentence answers with no regard for the spell check now inherent in most applications. No hobbies or interests. So yeah, no. Had to go for the throat.

"Did you just not have the balls to post under 'casual encounters' or did your completely inane prose net you no responses there?"

I did hold back. I even gave him the option to pretend to be interesting, but no. Back to the drawing board.

I've said the 'c' word three times today...

FFWD a few months since our last...

Lost my job. Thought I'd suddenly transform into June Cleaver and no. Learned how to make yeast bread and I've been cleaning the kitty box with astonishing regularity. Had a yard sale, but just ended up giving shit to people. "You're so cute! Have this Siouxie CD. No, really!"

Moreover, lack of funding signals the end of my reign as Queen of the Art Whores. Blast this one last painting off of layaway and I'm done. Fuck.

It's been awhile...

Yes, it's been awhile since I've written. Had shi+ to do. Reinvention took a breather while I worried about my state of employment and drank some. It's not easy - hence I've given myself an entire year. That and I knew I'd get bored, lazy and sidetracked. Why create impossible goals dependent on personality traits I suck at or don't have entirely? So back to business...

Weight - just as bad. It got better for a bit, then my birthday and Thanksgiving happened.
Hair - better, got longer and found a decent color
Face - don't even go there, going to buy a $200 face cleaner gadget against my entire gall of better judgement. Never doubt the power of clever marketing to even the most skeptical of aging women.
Fashion - a step for the positive - jeans only twice a week, jewelry every day.

So what the hell is this?

This is the weight loss / makeover blog for people who drink too much. I've tried with all my country gumption to identify with the suburban mommy, typical cheeky "get in shape gal" featured in every fitness magazine and website. Tried to get some snappy workout duds, white teeth, a ponytail and some goji berries. But as a cynic noir, this creepy media portrayal is giving me nothing but acid reflux.

I embark on this journey, complacent to failure with a pint o the devil and an asshole smirk.


38-33-39 - - Should I journal meals and workouts? Don't know - no for now because it's too Jenny Yoga.

(Just a note: If I have to rant or rave about whatever, that's probably going to get thrown in here too due to catharsis/creative outlet. Otherwise, I'll just get it off in some self destructive way)

To Floor A Man

I guess the last post may have seemed shallow, but so is my aim (we're allowed every once & again). Feeling Impending Pre-midlife Crisis II, I wish to log it this time...to keep track of purpose, motivation & efforts. Maybe there's someone out there of like mind that can benefit, maybe not.

The purpose is simply to become more attractive and interesting... to cockily raise the confidence bar my squishy ass has been unable to lift lately.

Motivation is the conundrum. It's been somewhere in the bottom quarter of my mental "to do" list for some time. Scout's honor. So I cannot (refuse to) pin the primal need as my inability to keep the attention of an old flame that has turned up recently, but it definitely was the straw that broke the llama's back.

I never will claim to be deep, moral or upstanding so now that it's out of the way, I want to be stacked and ripped and, well, pretty. I'm sure "health and well being" will be great side dishes, but the main course, of course, is my vanity, an entree best served hot.