F. Scott Fitzgerald said,

"There are no second acts in American lives."

Most people think he was crazy.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Kicking My Own A$$, Part I

I will admit it. I am a food racist.

I love white food.

Bread, pasta, biscuits, cake...all receive a big "Hell Yeah!" from me.

And, as most of you know, it was a long,cold winter and, being unable to grow a fur coat, I have put on another layer of a different sort.

Ten years ago, I could lose fifteen pounds in a couple of months. All I had to do was eat a little less and exercise a little more. But that doesn't work any more. Now I need to try something drastic. My "Kirb Appeal" this summer will be NewThirteen, trying to weigh what I did at 13. (This is a HUGE joke, peeps. At thirteen I weighed 101. Like the song. Now? I would need to remove all my insides PLUS a leg in order to weigh 101. Which I believe would be drastic.) And lest you think I want to LOOK thirteen again? Let me correct you. That would involve braces, headgear, and perhaps the ugliest wire-framed glasses on the planet. Nope--I'll settle for losing 15 pounds and looking 50 instead of 51.

I have done lots of research these first two weeks of summer, and I will be blogging about some of the things I've learned about dieting. (By 'learned' I mean read with a healthy dose of skepticism.) For now the easiest, albiet the most painful, choice is to give up a lot of my white food.

Alas, little Biscuitville, I hardly knew ye.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

My Love/Hate Relationship with Menopause.

Why I love menopause:
1. I can use it as an excuse. As in "Hey, I'm sorry I'm late, but I was driving along and all of a sudden I had this terrible hotflash and I had to pull over into the nearest Cook Out and get a peach cobbler shake.
2. I can use it to scare people (particularly those of the male persuasion). As in "Do you REALLY want to mess with a menopausal woman? Go ahead. Go there."

Why I hate menopause:
I look every day of fifty-one.

Why this is a problem:
I was still getting carded into my late thirties. I am not joking. And it wasn't just a clerk or two being nice, either. It was "I'm sorry, ma'am. I need to card everyone who looks like they might be under thirty."

So my challenge to myself this summer is to get my cuteness mojo back. Kinda like Valerie Bertinelli, only blonder.

Because I want to stop looking like this Kirby:

And start looking like this Kirby: