Meh

Yes, Yes, it's been one of those days, again!

So, it seems more and more these days, I have so much to say, but am so selective now in what I say, I just end up keeping most of my opinions to myself. 

Anyone that knows me well knows that this is NOT my style. If there is one thing that can usually be said about me is that I speak my mind. But after so many battles lost and so little victory to speak of, I just no longer have the heart. 

Thank God for cheap wine. 

Stupid is as stupid does

Ever had one of those days?

Momma said there'd be days like this...

Forever single!

How Crazy Is That?

This is how ridiculously outrageous our society's sense of beauty has impacted practically logical people: After years of battling with weight issues, at one time getting up to a whopping size 22, I am sitting here in my size 12 jeans thinking to myself, yeesh, I feel fat. 

How Crazy Is That?

I am in the same size Marilyn Monroe wore. I am voluptuous, sexy, proportioned, and even better than all of those things, I'm fit, healthy, and hearty. 

So why am I sitting here bemoaning the "spare tire" I see sitting above my waistband? Stupid magazines and TV shows. Stupid Barbie Dolls and teen idols. The worst part is, I've never had body issues. I've always been comfortable in the skin I'm in. And yet...here I am, feeling all bloated, and guilt-ridden for eating an entire bag of Cheddar Jalapenos Cheetos. 

So, I will drink this entire glass of wine, finish my Cheetos, and go do a handful of crunches. Hopefully that will assuage my guilty conscience. 

Life is too short...

Liz: "It begins when the object of your affection bestows upon you a heady hallucinogenic dose of something you've never even dared to admit you wanted an emoitional speedball of thunderous love and excitement. Soon you start craving that attention with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When it's withheld, you turn sick, crazy, not to mention resentful of the dealer who ecouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff. 

Liz: "Goddamn him, and he used to give it to you for free. Next stage finds you skinny, shaking in a corner certain only that you'd sell your soul just to have that one thing more time." 

Liz: "The irony is you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a mess. Unrecognizable even to your own eyes." 

Liz: "You have now reached infatuation's final destination. The complete and merciless devaluation of self." 

Eat, Pray, Love

I'm a survivor...