sexy, flat abs at 40!

i hate magazines.  all of them.  i think they make people (mostly women) feel bad about themselves. fitness magazines are the absolute worst.  i have no idea why i got one in the mail recently.  i didn't order it, but i guess i ordered something online and this was my punishment.  on the cover stands an airbrushed model beside a headline boasting "sexy, flat abs at 40!" as if this is actually a possibility.  while i do think it is possible for a woman of that age to be sexy, i have serious doubts about whether her abs would be a contributing factor.  and if this woman has kids, forget all of it - she isn't ever going to feel sexy again.  ever.  and her abs are not flat unless she has had surgery or she is really, really hungry and sucking in.  and lying down.  trust me on this.

i didn't open the magazine.  but i imagine the article looked something like this.

Seven Easy Steps for Sexy, Flat Abs at 40!

Step 1: rent or purchase a time machine.

Step 2: get inside time machine.

Step 3: think back to a time when you had flat abs (if you are 40, this will likely be the early 90s).

Step 4: enter that date into time machine.

Step 5: travel back in time.

Step 6: tell your younger self not to have children, eat carbs or drink alcohol ever again.

Step 7: tell your younger self to spend 3 hours a day doing ab work for the next 20 years.

the magazine is still sitting on my kitchen counter.  i think i am going to throw it in the recycling so that i can stop thinking about what i am not doing to have flat, sexy abs.

famous people naked with beer saying funny things not eating cupcakes at publix

my blog entries generally get 50 or so views at the most (which is pretty good considering i have about 3 friends).  however, i had an entry that got over 1700 views.  it was one of my first blog entries - one that i wasn't particularly proud of - and it had the title "cupcakes at publix."  as it turned out, when you google searched "how much do publix cupcakes cost" my blog entry would come up in the search.

i did just change the name of that entry though after people searching for cupcakes wanted to argue with me over whether publix cupcakes are overpriced (which, for being mediocre at best, they so clearly are) and they wanted to criticize my lack of capital letters.  i am a lower case person.  that is just how it is.  if you don't like it, go eat your publix cupcakes and figure out how to rephrase your google searches.

 

southern women

when you have no friends and don't interact with anyone, it makes it hard coming up with blog entries making fun of people.  so i started thinking about people in more general terms and decided i had enough experience with and disdain for southern women to produce a blog entry.  and really, it isn't all southern women (especially given that i am one) - it's the stereotypical southern woman.  trust me, you know one. in fact, you probably borrowed her mountain house one weekend.

i decided that the best way to describe what i don't like about these southern women is to describe what i do like about women i know from the midwest.  i have two good friends who, coincidentally, are both from chicago.  both of these women like what they like, tell you what they like, tell you what they don't like and they don't worry about hurting your feelings by having opinions.  if they can't come to your party because they have other plans, they might say something like "i can't come to your party because i have other plans." southern women approach things differently - they fret over hurting feelings and may lie to avoid doing so.  they are saddled with guilt (catholic-style), even when there is no good reason for it.  southern women would respond with something like "well, i am not sure if i can come to the party.  well, i mean, i need to..... well, it's possible if..... i should be able to get to both places at the same time. so yeah, i think i should be able to come."

southern women are accustomed to lying and being lied to in the name of hospitality. it is not only accepted, but expected. they also apologize profusely and sometimes sincerely for things for which they are not to blame.  for instance, (and i hate that i am using myself as an example) the other day, i was getting out of my car at someone else's house at the same time a fed ex truck pulled up.  the driver hopped out and approached me with a package and said "are you melissa?" to which i replied, "no, i'm sorry, i'm not melissa."  i'm sorry i'm not melissa? why would i even say that? i am most definitely not sorry that i am not melissa.  unless, of course, she has a nice mountain house.

the real reason you shouldn't talk to strangers

i know you think i hate people.  and really, i do.  but i don't hate them right away.  in fact, i enjoy talking to strangers.  strangers are almost always more interesting than people you already know.  but once in a while, even a stranger can too quickly become just like a tired, annoying acquaintance that you avoid making eye-contact with at publix.  this is the story of one such encounter.

a year or so ago, i was in a bar in new york with my sister when this seemingly normal woman beside me said she was having trouble with her phone and asked if i would touch her screen to see if it would respond to my touch. the short story is that i could not get her phone to work. the longer story is that this woman with a broken touchscreen provided me with two hours of unadulterated know-it-all.

in describing her cell phone issues, she managed to get in that she was a writer, who had several successful books. naturally, having an interest in writing (as well as an interest in having a published author as a friend), i pursued a conversation with her.  initially, we discussed her most recent book - a guide to romance using astrology.  and while i am not particularly interested in astrology, i am interested in people crazy enough to believe in using astrology to guide them through life. but that wasn't all. she was also a former editor and had contributed to many magazines.

i have to say, that as a half-assed, occasional blog-writer, i was, at the very least, interested in some advice - non-astrologically speaking. as it turned out though, she was short on advice and big on non-stop talking and knowing everything.  and not just about writing.  she had broken up with the love of her life (seems she didn't follow the stars on that one) and discussed her strong belief in soul mates and of course, how one's soul mate would be found astrologically.  she also discussed her many years living abroad and the numerous languages she spoke, including a monologue on the failure of the american culture to embrace individual "spirituality" or to truly "listen" to other people.  she described her bout with mercury poisoning and the evils of immunizations, medical science, doctors, yeast and gluten.  she was single and had no children, but offered a plethora of knowledge and wisdom on marriage and parenting.  the woman had a lot to say.

eventually though, i couldn't drink any more beer and had ingested just enough that it didn't seem all that rude to just walk away mid-conversation.  she did still manage to give me a card, as i walked away, with the name of her latest book - he's just not in the stars (seriously, google it).

i hate facebook people (as well as other types)

i quit facebook a few months ago. if you are on facebook, i suspect you don't even have to ask why. and if you were friends with me on facebook, i know you don't need to.  but of course, i am going to tell you anyway.  it's because i hate people.

i won't break facebook offenders down into detailed groups because i've already seen it done way better than i ever could.  but between the scripture-status-posting-religious freaks, the political pot-stirrers, people from my high school (there's a reason we don't keep in touch), the braggers, and the voyeurs, it put me in a bad mood - every time i got on.  i tried separating my friends into groups (those not-so-easily-offended and those never-offended) and i tried hiding people from my news feed.  in the end though, it was just too much to manage - and for what? to see photos of junior sipping a shirley temple in turks and caicos for his 4th birthday? to see my "friend" wishing her husband, soul mate, love-of-her-life and best friend of 13 years a happy anniversary - in a status update?  or perhaps just to know where my "friends" fall on the crucial chick-fil-a-position-on-gay-marriage issue.

but i am left wondering which is the real person, the facebook version or the real-life person.  with some people (and probably me), it seemed that the facebook person was just an exaggerated version of the real-life person - with the exaggeration being of their most annoying quality. with other people, the facebook person was a completely different person all together.  for instance, i met a girl in person and liked her and then she friended me on facebook and i couldn't stand her.  she posted about her kids all the time and was so super-positive that it literally made me nauseous. which one is real?  i wondered if facebook had saved me some time in real life by showing me what this person was really like or did facebook create an inaccurate image and ruin a perfectly good potential real-life friendship? i know it doesn't matter because i probably would have hated her eventually anyway.

ultimately though, i decided that life is too short to spend all of your time on facebook.  i resolved to quit and start doing something productive, creative, something that encouraged genuine relationships - and that is when i discovered instagram.  it's awesome and i already have loads of followers!

my summer vacation

i'm having trouble with my blog these days.  the problem is that the only people i have stories about are the same people who read my blog - well, like you. and you know how you are. you get all mad when i tell your embarrassing stories on the internet.  fortunately, my dad (randy joe, as you may know him) doesn't know "how to work" the computer, so i can tell you about his brief appearance during my summer vacation.

as many of you may be aware, from the end of may until mid-august, schools no longer allow you to drop off your children from 7:45am to 2:30pm on monday through friday.  so this year, on may 25th, my children began spending their days lounging about on the couch complaining of boredom and demanding various meals and snacks throughout the day.  that about sums up the month of june at our house.

in july, my sister and her husband and their 2-year-old son came to visit. if the story of their visit were broken down into bullet points, it would look something like this:

• flight cancelled
• torrential rains (during purported drought)
• vomit in car
• my mom (ronnie) comes to visit
• my mom (ronnie) breaks her arm
• randy joe gets pissed off
• everyone says goodbye 

i will spare you the details of the first three bullet points.  and really, the actual fall that my mom took while walking my dogs at dusk isn't all that exciting other than the fact that it resulted in a broken arm.  after the fall, when my mom wasn't able to get up, my husband steve recognized that her arm was broken.  he wrapped it up securely and we decided to wait until the next morning to take her in for x-rays.  we also decide that it would be best to wait until morning to notify randy joe. 

because my father is not known for handling the unexpected very well (colossal understatement), we had to decide that morning who would make the dreaded call.  my mom argued that she was not able to make the call since she had injured her "dialing arm."  my sister and i agreed that we were not good candidates as we may be targets for his anger since we had encouraged her to come without him (he is averse to leaving his home).  and so it was decided that news of a broken arm should come from a medical professional - steve.  to everyone's relief, steve didn't seem to mind.  my dad listened as he was told the news of the fall, the x-rays to come and that my mom would be unable to drive back home that day as planned.  steve ended with "well, do you want to talk to ronnie?" to which my dad responded, "no, i've heard all i need to hear."

but as is typical for randy joe, he processed the information, made some phone calls, paced around his living room and came up with a plan.  and so the next day, he left nashville, georgia, at 7am sharp, drove straight to my house - no stops - and picked up my mom and took her back to the safety of their home.  for the most part, he has recovered from the ordeal.  when i call, he still shares with me, at length, the burdens and aggravations of having a spouse with a broken arm.  funny, i don't remember my mom complaining at all. 

the next day, my sister and her family flew back home. and we finished out the summer the same way we started it - the couch, the boredom, the snacks.