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Brad’s new belly.

October 2, 2009

Last night, I felt worse about life (or better, maybe, depends on how you look at it) after I read an article about Brangelina in OK! magazine.  Here’s the quote that astonished me:

‘Brad knows his relationship with Angie is on the line.  He’s going to have to start working out and eating healthier.  And he’s got to stop drinking, which could be causing some of his belly bloat.’ Once he shapes up, Brad hopes their relationship will follow suit.  ‘Brad is determined to get back in shape for Angie.  He really hopes that by losing the extra weight and eating more healthy fare, she will fall in love with him all over again.’

Really.  This is what a ‘source’ says.  I kid you not.  Okay, so, let’s imagine that we can take this information for face value (even though we certainly cannot):
1. Brad Pitt is one of the most desired, gorgeous men of our time.
2. So what, BP gained 10 lbs?!?  Stop the presses.  How old is he again?  He’s not going to have washboard abs forever, people.
3. If BP really thinks losing 10 lbs and eating “healthy” is going to make Angie love him again, I’ll sell him my oceanfront property in Pgh (I don’t even own property, so even better), and move to Mexico.  At least someone’s dreams will come true.
4. If BP, again, one of the most desired men in the world, is fearful that his relationship will end because of 10 lbs, God bless the rest of us out there.  We will be alone forever.

Okay, all aside, even if we could believe this load of crap that OK! is trying to sell us, how ridiculous.  Seriously.  If Angelina is willing to throw it all away because of 10 lbs, she’s crazier than I thought.  Or like everyone else she is wrapped up in the superficial, thinking the outside is indicative of the inner character.  Up yours Angie.  And probably yours too Brad, since you’d do the same if Angie gained weight.


Obesity prevention, or uncreative invention?

September 22, 2009

Check out these ads from the Ad Council regarding the oh my god, OBEESSITTTY crisis.

A few of my favorites, aka, most despised:


And, because we all know every soccer mom needs to lose weight:


If my co-workers only knew me by my belly rather than my face, I’d be looking for a new job:


Where can I get a necklace made of words?!?!

Because missing a chin is equal to missing a child.   Yes, definitely worth the comparison.

And my favorite…which I can’t insert, but you can see by clicking here.  Cause fat people just need the air deflated out of them, that’s all!  So EASY.

I just LOVE these ads.  It makes losing that extra weight just as simple as drinking low-fat milk, walking the soccer sidelines, taking the stairs, parking at the end of the parking lot, or of course, deflation.  Seriously???  And, thanks Ad Council for making me feel bad about my double chin, love handles, or spare tire.   Or even thinking it’s any of your business that I have any of these things or not.  I’m fine with all my accessory body parts, thankyouverymuch!

At the end of the day…

September 21, 2009



Success is not final,
failure is not fatal,
it is the courage 
to continue that counts.

                                        Winston Churchill

Do you swallow?

September 17, 2009

A must read.


September 16, 2009

Quick and simple.  Hate my job(s).  Hate this town.  Hate my living arrangements.  Hate that I don’t know what to do with my life.  Hate that time goes by so fast, but I still have so much time until I’m done with what’s keeping me tied down to this place.  Hate is such a strong word, but so applicable.

Off to the shore….

September 4, 2009


To stand at the edge of the sea, to sense the ebb and flow of the tides, to feelthe breath of a mist moving over a great salt marsh, to watch the flight of shore birds that have swept up and down the surf lines of the continents for untold thousands of year, to see the running of the old eels and the young shad to the sea, is to have knowledge of things that are as nearly eternal as any earthly life can be.


Rachel Carson




How do I change the frequency?

August 31, 2009

In four days, vacation time will finally be here.  I will leave the incessant ringing of the phone and the devilish grin of the Target bullseye long behind.  I. cannot. wait.   My vacation time will take me to one of my favorite places on earth – the BEACH.  Again, I cannot wait, can’t wait to soak in the sun, the ocean breeze, and the salty feel of the waves against my skin.  Ahhhhh…. 


But the underlying current of my happy, beach-going excitement, is the negative talk that comes with every beach experience.  The headache inducing static called body hatred.  Thankfully, I’m prepared by some winning anecdotes from last year’s vacation:

She should not be wearing that.

How could those women wear that knowing their stomachs are hanging out.

Ahh…look at my huge belly, sigh.

I hate how my legs look in a swimsuit.

I have ZERO patience for any of these comments.  Judging your own body, or others, gets you nowhere fast.  Immediately, I want to start screaming my responses:

What she is wearing is none of your damn business, she’s not a decoration or image created for your viewing pleasure or displeasure.

Maybe those women don’t hate their stomachs, like you seem to do.  Maybe they’re confident with the way they look, or better yet, they just don’t give a shit about what you, SOME ASSHOLE OF A STRANGER thinks about them.

Umm…why are you wasting time worrying about how your belly, or your legs look.  You’re here to have a good time, not hate yourself.

And, to all the above….get a hobby, get a life, stop being so self-indulgent, self-absorbed.  There is SO much more to life than worrying about what someone looks like, or what you look like.  GET OVER YOURSELF.

I have my own issues with my body and how I look in a swimsuit, but really I just can’t be bothered to give a shit, maybe a second of a thought but no more.  But I certainly resent other people’s negative chatter taking up space in my head, ruining my good time.  I wish listening to people could be like listening to the radio, complete with a scan and on/off button.  When vile, hateful gibberish would come out of someone’s mouth, I could just push the scan button, and listen to something more pleasant, or just push OFF.  Ahh…what dreams may come.