Big Girl Underoos

I need to vent. I am on a softball team. This team happens to be made up of people my X works with, i.e. a bunch of graduate students and a couple of profs. When X and I were a couple, we were both friends with everyone in the group. Now that we are no longer a couple, there is a very subtle shift in the dynamic. Especially among the girls. The guys are fine. They don't get subtlety and they are there to play a game, not to care about relationships. So the girls. Obviously it makes sense on a certain level that they would sort of rally around my X. They work with him after all. But at the same time, I don't want to be made to feel like a second class citizen, or a third wheel, or what have you. I don't feel like I can talk to them about by current personal life, even though they can talk about my X's current personal life in front of me. Maybe we never had that kind of relationship in the first place. Maybe it's partly my fault. I guess I haven't exactly invited...

Given that tomorrow is June and I lost nary an ounce during my Cinco en Mayo plan I have to wonder what is wrong with me. Actually, I don't really have to wonder. I know exactly my problem. I. EAT. TOO. MUCH. Plain and simple, I eat too much. Shocking revelation I know. So. What to do about that? Michael J. posts a clip on changing your behavior from Fast Company that may be helpful. "If you want to change something in your life, it's common to try to stop the behaviors you don't like. While this certainly seems logical, it seldom works. The reason is simple - it unintentionally creates a vacuum where the old behaviors used to be. And since nature hates a vacuum it will fill it with anything it can find - usually the very behaviors you're trying to stop since they're so familiar. Instead of stopping certain behaviors, try focusing on what you want to create - and the new behaviors you need to get there. Eventually, with practice, new behaviors will develop eno...

Go running. No. You have to. It's on your training schedule. And you've been a total slacker for the last week so you have to go. But it's about to rain. So? You liked running in the rain last time. And it's cooling off so you won't sweat as much. But I'm so tired. You'll be energized when you're done. What if there is something wrong with me? Maybe I have Mono. I know someone who has it right now. I shouldn't run with Mono. You do not have mono. Put your sneakers on and get your ass outside. I don't have to. I'm a grown-up and I control my own destiny. Of course you are. That's why you're whining like a little baby. Be an actual grown-up and go for a run. If you don't go now you'll pay for it on Saturday during your half-marathon. You do remember you're doing a half marathon in five days right? Yes. *Huff* Fine. But I don't want to do 10 miles. Ok. Let's compromise. Do five miles and call it a day. I'll do i...

I am so going to get nasty pervs on my blog from this post. Hi nasty pervs. Let's talk about pubic hair shall we? In a general sort of way of course. People in polite company don't tend to talk about this subject. Hell, people in impolite company don't often talk about it either. And why not? My theory? It's icky and embarassing. Not icky in an "ew gross" kind of way but more in an "uncomfortable, I don't want to think about it" way. If that makes any sense. Why would I find something natural that everyone, male and female, has icky and embarassing? I don't know. But I'm pretty darn sure I'm not the only one. Part of the problem is that in the U.S., whenever you see a naked woman, she is virtually hairless. That is not the way most women actually are. But how would we know that? All we know is that Exhibit A: goddess-like woman on screen, does not match up with Exhibit B: Less than goddess-like self in reality. The result of this com...

I am dog tired today. Dog tired being defined in this case as an inability to remain upright for longer than 30 minutes. It's not like I did anything all that strenuous or taxing either. And I even got plenty of sleep. My five mile run on Saturday morning should have worn off by now and my two hour nap today should have helped things. But lo, it did not. I feel completely fine, even mildly mentally aware, so other than an overwhelming urge to crawl onto any comfortable looking horizontal surface I'm good. Well, my 30 minutes are up. Must go lie on my couch and watch Northern Exposure on DVD. Did you know that in season 3 Maggie O'Connell is the same age as I am right now - 29. I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, I think she's drop dead gorgeous and absolutely emulatable. But on the other hand, she seems so old and grown up. Am I old? I'm certainly not grown up. Am I? When the hell did that happen?

I spent today lying prone on the floor being groped by undergrads. Let me explain. Friendster Guy teaches an outdoor emergency class and he needed someone to be a victim for them to assess for injuries during their final exam. I pretended I had a ski accident, complete with helmet. I even had make-up on my face that looked like I had a head wound; fake blood, bruising. I spent about 4-5 hours prostrate on the floor pretending to be unconscious while 18 year olds came over and said, "Ma'am, can you hear me? Are you ok?" Then they'd fake call in to base and say they had a woman down and needed more assistance. It took every ounce of my being not to hug the ones who described me as a "college age female" One even said eighteen. (I told him he was my favorite after he was done.) All in all I had about 15 unsatisfactory massages while they "palpated" me for broken bones and wounds. I had fingers in my mouth checking for my airway or alternatively being...

I've been spending an exorbitant amount of time in a local bookstore recently. I've been using it as a way station between appointments and as a place to meet up with people. During one of my layovers there I started reading the first book in Ann Rice's Sleeping Beauty trilogy. I had thought I wanted to add it to my wish list for my birthday but after reading the first chapter I don't think I can stomach it. Maybe it gets better and justifies the first few pages but I don't think it's worth the investment of time or money. In summary, the prince comes to wake up SB but instead of a kiss he rapes her into consciousness. He orders her around for a few pages refusing to let her put on any clothes. Then he calls in the king, her father, and with her sitting there naked and exposed, the prince tells him he's taking her as a prize for waking up the kingdom. The worst part is not the violence or subjugation, it's the romantic way it's portrayed. Ann Rice d...

I'm tapped out. I'm completely out of blogging ideas today. I've gone to the BBC, The Onion, my favorite bloggy haunts and even the stupid little "news" clips on Yahoo and Hotmail and I am finding a paucity of inspiration. By the way, I like the word paucity. See! That's as inspiring as it gets today folks. Misogyny and other things that piss me off have taken a holiday from my attention apparently. Friendster Guy and I are doing well. The sun is shining. I've been busy with work stuff. It's not a hard life I'm living. Oh wait! Did I tell you I met Friendster Guy's parents? Well I did. And they are very nice and I can see where he gets many of his traits. It's been a long time since I've been involved with someone who's parents are still together. It was nice to be able to see all the traits in one place in one visit. I had to travel to two states to do that with the X and he had to do the same with me. FG gets to meet my Dad and st...

1) I've decided that my favorite song is "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. Any song that accompanies a movie instantly has more emotion behind it and this one packs a punch. And anytime John Cusack wants to stand outside of my window looking soulful and lonely I sure as hell wouldn't roll over and ignore him. Just for the record. 2) It's a good mail day when you think the two pieces of mail you receive are bills and one turns out to be junk and the other a refund check. Granted a refund check for 54 cents but I'm sure as hell gonna cash it. That's like what? Almost a pack of gum! 3) It's also a good day when you are about to toast your plain english muffin at work when suddenly someone comes out of a room with their leftover breakfast meeting food and offers you scones, bagels, lox, fruit and yogurt. I love serendipitous food!

I went shopping yesterday and managed to find a knee strap, $13.99 at Walgreens. Then I went grocery shopping and they even had them there. I'm glad I didn't go to a fancy sporting goods shop and spend too much. Of course I still may discover cheap is cheap for a reason. Speaking of cheap, I bought a nice black skirt suit yesterday. Three quarter length sleeves, nice satin piping around the collar. Fits perfectly. Guess how much I paid for it. No really, guess. You'll never believe me when I tell you! Nine dollars and seventy seven cents. You couldn't even buy the fabric for that. Thank you JCPenney. Question, when did sizes all of a sudden become odd numbers? Maybe it was just because I was cruising the clearance racks but all the sizes were odd - 7, 9, 11, 13. I felt like I'd been transported to Europe or something. It was great though because I'm more a 9 than an 8 or 10. One's too tight, one's too loose. Note: I can't believe 10 is too loose. I...

Surprisingly enough, my quest to lose 5 pounds in May is actually kind of happening. I have managed to lose 2 pounds with a week and a half to go. I'm just happy to see any number less than my original number. For awhile I was getting concerned because I kept seeing higher numbers. The tide has at least been stemmed, if not turned. If I lose one more pound it will be the first time I've seen this new number for about 2 years, and that was only for about a week or so. And before that I was 18. It helps that I have little disposable income and have slowed down on eating out. Sort of. It also doesn't hurt that I ran nine miles yesterday. Nine! My left knee is making me pay for it today but I did it. I need to get some of those knee straps, like the straps people wear for tennis elbow, only for runner's knee. I have no idea where in the Upper Valley to go for that sort of thing but it's my goal for the evening. I WILL have a 6 pack by my 30th birthday. I will! If I do I...

Well, I said it. That's right. It took me almost a week of false starts, panic attacks, and even some hidden tears of terror but I finally got it out there. The response was less than perfect. And yet, in the long run I'd much rather have the sort of honest conversation Friendster Guy and I had as a result than receive a knee jerk "I love you too" with no thought whatsoever. Suffice it to say that I know I am loved and cared for and when Friendster Guy is finally ready to say it on a regular basis he'll really, really mean it. More so than probably anyone I've ever heard it from before. He's a thinker that Friendster Guy. As long as snuggles come along with all the thinking I'm ok with that. And they do so it's all good. Until such time as he is comfortable saying it I have told him I am going to refrain from saying it myself. I'd rather not have a one sided exchange in that regard. But it's out there. And I didn't die. Or get turned aw...

I'm doing more testing to bring Big Girl Underoos back on-line and as good as before. Technorati is giving me problems at the moment but I'm figuring it out. Ignore this post. Technorati Profile

I went to college in central Pennsylvania, a place not necessarily known for its liberal politics. In addition, there weren't a whole heck of a lot of people that spoke any language but English, unless you were Pennsylvania Dutch. In other words, there weren't a lot of liberal democrats or people of color. When the local school board had a meeting to discuss the teaching of spanish in school the following was said by the chairman of the board: "If English was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for our kids." And if that doesn't tell you who's voting for all the new "English is our national language" bullshit legislation, I don't know what will. More ranting on the subject at I Blame the Patriarchy .

Don't worry. I'm playing with templates and such. It's about all I can handle today intellectually. If I was smart I'd start my laundry and them come back to this. I may yet but I wanted to stop any ensuing panic and rioting in the streets I may have caused by changing my template. Of course I didn't realize I would lose all my links but they will be back, and more organized than before. As soon as I get them off my work computer. Doh! I have a few here but don't fret if you've been linked to before and are no longer present. It will take me a few days but you'll be back. I promise. Cross my heart. Enjoy the adventure of not knowing what to expect anytime you come back here.

I'm home today making sure a low grade cold/illness doesn't turn into a full blown sickness. I'm meeting Friendster Guy's parents this weekend so I gotta be at my best. Or at least my usual. I don't feel all that bad but I woke up with a sore throat. Then my water wasn't even luke warm so I thought I'd eat something and hope it would warm up in the interim. But then I realized I didn't want to eat. That's pretty much the equivalent of my Bat Signal for "stay home and let whatever you have run its course." I NEVER don't want to eat. So here I am. I'm going to go veg on the couch and watch Northern Exposure on DVD. Maybe I'll get my laundry done. Maybe. I'm not feeling up to that either. Or I could just be lazy. It's kind of a combo. Plus it's raining. The perfect day to curl up and do nothing.

Because of my success with finding a wonderful gentleman on-line, I have inspired a friend/co-worker of mine, a shy woman in her 50s, to give on-line dating a whirl. She posted a profile, got an email from a fellow, and is currently working on setting up a first date. I'm so proud of her!

Not My Spot pointed me to a Washington Post article about health care professionals treating women of reproductive age as if they are constantly on the brink of pregnancy. I am of two minds on this. On the one hand, I am not a child producing machine. Yes, I can do so (or at least have all the right plumbing) but that is not my goal in life. It's not even one of my goals in life. On the other hand, I think anything that will encourage doctors to actually talk to their patients about reproduction, birth control and sexual health is a good thing. But it's not a matter of making sure women are taking their folic acid, it's a matter of providing education so that the 50% of pregnancies that are unplanned become more of a thing of the past. If you don't have the facts about pregnancy and prevention, I don't think an expensive bottle of folic acid is going to fix things. It's a start, but it's the wrong approach. It gets around the Bible bangers a little because...

I thought these questions via Fetch me my Axe were better than most self-surveys so I thought I'd give them a whirl. 1. What was your favorite story (fairy tale, folktale, bedtime story, what have you) as a child? Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. It began my lifetime obsession with food. And not just any old food but free, serendipitous food. 2. If you were telling your own life as a story, what would be "happily ever after" for you personally at this point? A comfortable home, lots of fun travel on the calendar, someone to do the traveling with, a comfortable couch - it's my goal in life to have a couch that is comfortable enough to sit and also snuggle on - lots of hobbies, no deadlines. Just a simple life without any ugly surprises. I'm actually not that far from all that. 3. Name something that makes you deliriously happy. Knowing that someone out there cares about me, enjoys my company and lets me know it. 4. Something you couldn't live without. I thin...

It isn't a good and productive week here at Sassy Pants headquarters if I can't write something about this guy over at Save the Males . He's written an article about sexual surrender quoting from a textbook from 1958. He laments that it is out of print because he really thinks this author was on to something. There is good reason that it is out of print: one, it's from 1958. That is almost 50 years ago. Technology, human psychology, and everything but evangelical christianity has come a long way since then. Two, and by two I really mean the only reason it should remain out of print, is that its thesis is this - "A woman's identity lies in an "essential feminine altruism." A woman's self-expression and power is based on making her husband and children her first priority. Similarly, her sexual satisfaction and spiritual fecundity depend on self-surrender." Going on, "Men are designed for mastery of the external (physical) world, and women...

In case you weren't sure what foods were "chick" foods and what foods were "manly," Burger King spells it out for you in this commercial here (click on "Manthem"). Now that I don't have cable I have to rely on web surfing and blogs to help me ferret out misogyny wherever it rears it's ugly head. Thanks Shell ! So guys, tofu, sushi and quiche (even though you can joke about it being a "quicky") are all out. You must eat beef. YOU...MUST...EAT...MEAT!!! Does anyone else find it oddly amusing that they put up signs saying "Eat this meat!" and it's aimed at guys? And what a waste of a perfectly good minivan. I hope he remembered to take the kids out first. Multitasking (being manly AND caring for his kids) might have been a little tough with all that testosterone flowing.

Dr. Nik sent me a link to this article about "Purity Balls" awhile ago. Although it sounds like some sort of fascinating "gynecological gizmongery" (my favorite turn of phrase from the article) it is in actuality a prom for fathers (also known at this event as "high priests." I kid you not.) and daughters where the daughters pledge to preserve their virginity until their father gives them away in marriage. And the father vows to pretty much scare the shit out of any suitors to their home with shot guns and what have you. Or so I assume. Anyway, it's an interesting read and the author is as horrified as you and I may be on the whole issue. Promises are made to be broken. Education lasts a lifetime. What's that phrase?Give a man a fish and he eats for a day, teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. There needs to be a whole lot more teaching and a lot less promising that you won't go fishing without yer Daddy. Er...whatever. Gross.

It's a gray and rainy Sunday here on the Vermont/New Hampshire border, and throughout New England from what I hear. Yesterday it was even more wet and rainy and I competed in my first 10K. My times certainly didn't blow anyone out of the water (although there was plenty to be blown out of) but it was a good run. My knee behaved and once I started I didn't even really notice the rain - except that my pants threatened to come off from all the water weight. My goal was to finish in under 60 minutes and I managed to come in at 58:30ish. Very cool. Then, since I was as wet as a drowned rat and I was no longer moving, I got really cold so I stopped at my gym on the way home and soaked in the hot tub. Joy! Rapture! Nap time! I didn't actually nap though. I watched the latest movie sent to me from Netflix - Vanity Fair. I am discovering that I dislike movies where everyone thinks someone is less than who they are and that person has to struggle on the way up and invariably find...

I've been tagged by Mrs. Harridan at Mean Girl to the Rescue to fill out this survey. My first tag! I'm so excited! I have a strange compulsion to fill in pointless surveys about myself so this is perfect. 1. First name? Sassy 2. Were you named after anyone? No. But when I was little it seemed that everyone else had my same name. I had two best friends and two step-cousins named "Sassy". Not to mention an annoying character on General Hospital. And the President's daughter. (Ooo! A Clue!) 3. Do you wish on stars? Yes. It can't hurt. 4. When did you last cry? It’s actually been a little while. Maybe even a month. I’ve been surprisingly happy for the last few weeks. And I don't remember what the reason for the last outbreak was. 5. Do you like your handwriting? Depends on the day. It changes. Sometimes it flows beautifully. Other times it looks like I switch from writing with my right to my left hand, each letter having a different tilt and changing from cu...

I don't drink Evian anyway, but if I did, I'd stop. What are they trying to do? Attract a more masculine clientele? Maybe they should just make the bottle less pink. I don't need to see a naked woman (who looks like she needs to "detox" herself) making snow angels. By the way, the caption reads, "Return to purity with water from the French Alps that's been naturally filtered for over 15 years." Yeah, and now some hoochie's gone and rolled in it. No thanks.

There is nothing to say. Just go here .

I'm peeved this morning. My X is asking for my sister's address because he wants to send her a Mother's Day card. I think that's very sweet and nice and thoughtful. I'll give him that. But where was this nice and sweet and thoughtful person when we were together? Valentine's Day always went by with me having to make all the plans and also counter arguments that it is a made up holiday. "Yes, dear, it is a made up holiday but they are ALL made up. Arbor Day didn't just spring into existence out of the ether. They were created so we could take a step back and celebrate something. In the case of Valentine's Day that would be our supposed love for one another. It is not for hosting a 5 hour D&D game at our house." For my last birthday I had to make my own reservations (after repeated and not subtle suggestions as to what I would like to do. I sent him a GD link for Pete's sake.) And I told him what I wanted, plain black earrings - small, ma...

From Save the Males . (Written by the guy who inspired this post) His own son thinks he's deluded. "Tonight at supper I tried to impress my 19-year-old son with the heavy responsibility he bears as my sole heir. "Some day you will inherit Save the Males," I said. "Perhaps you’d like to practice by writing a guest column." "I already have a topic." "What is it?" I am delighted. "I'll write about how some people can't get ahead in life and pretend there is some grand conspiracy and blame society for their problems." " Of course, he explains that his son lives with the ex-wife, a "feminist," so the kid is not to be blamed for his brainwashing. Me thinks the ex-wife is one of the luckiest women on the planet. She escaped this guys clutches and has an intelligent son. Go her.

Here is what I said yesterday to convince myself to get off my lazy butt and go running. "Sassy Pants, you can do this. It's only a short run ." It was FIVE miles. When the heck did 5 miles become a short run?! Good lord, I may be an actual "runner." Minus the runner's physique. And it worked. I went out and ran the 5 miles. Crazy.

I've decided that I'm going to stop believing in evolution. If I don't believe that living things change over time then bird flu is a figment of my imagination. If enough people don't believe it can happen, it can't happen, right? We've been duped by the liberal media to think that bird flu is a problem. Hell, we've been duped into thinking evolution actually happens. I mean really, so what if proof is everywhere we look? So what if children look like their parents, or farmers have bred cows to produce more milk, or the Cold keeps coming back in a new form year after year. It's all bunk! How naive we have been! If only we pray harder and suspend all belief in reality things will be ok. It's like clapping when Tinker Bell is dying. If we clap loud enough, those little viruses won't mutate and sweep the planet. Who's with me? Down with evolution! Clap, clap, clap. You'll have to forgive me, I've been reading a book on the Scopes "M...

I was with N this afternoon and we ran into B. She's in on the Sassy Pants/Friendster Guy saga but I hadn't see her in about a month so she asked how things were going. Our actual conversation: Me: Friendster Guy asked me... B: If you say he asked you to marry him I'm going to pass out right here in the street. Me: (laughing) No! I was complaining that I kept forgetting stuff when I went to his house so he asked me if I'd like a drawer. B: Oh! That's even better.

Anonymous blogging is both fascinating and frightening. On the one hand it allows me to be very free with what I say but on the other, anonymity goes only so far. And is never as anonymous as you think it might be. I ran into a friend today who I know mostly through some other friends who happen to be bloggers themselves. Apparently, he had found my site via one of their blogs and had been trying to figure out who I was for the last month or so. He could triangulate to a certain group of people based on our common cohorts so when we bumped into each other today he asked me if I was Sassy Pants. Actually, I was with someone and he didn't want to ask me in front of them so he told me he had a question for me and would email it. Amusingly, the someone I was with was NPapaya (if you read my comments you've seen her) so asking if I was Sassy Pants would have been fine and probably quite funny all around. Anywho, it does give a person pause when you find out someone you do know but d...

David Blaine is a waste of my brain cells. I'm not even going to link to anything about him because I don't think he needs any more publicity. He is a masochistic exhibitionist with a death wish and I pity the poor parents of the children who die while trying to emulate him. I hope his parents have already passed on because otherwise I'm sure he's slowly killing them. Friendster Guy sent me the following New York Times quote with the same sentiment. "Mr. Blaine explained that these exercises are all part of his 'journey,' that they 'make people think.' Magic, he said, 'brings people together who might not come together.' Well, so does the airport." I enjoy layovers in the airport 300% more than watching any of his stunts. Unless of course all the TVs in the concourse were showing him. Then I'd have to curl up into the fetal position in one of the bathroom stalls and wish for the end of the world.

A study published in the American Sociological Review has determined "that out of a long list of ethnic and cultural minorities, Americans are less willing to accept intermarriage with atheists than with any other group, and less likely to imagine that atheists share their vision of American society." Read a little more at the Chronicle of Higher Ed here . I know why the American public thinks this. It's because the atheists they see or envision are kind of scary. As a highly likeable, cute, sweet looking person (if I do say so myself), people are very surprised when I say I'm an atheist. I think they expect an anarchist with a leather jacket, piercings, and a moral compass that's a little askew. When I told a Catholic boyfriend of mine, who had known me for over 5 years at that point, that I was an atheist he told me point blank I had no morals. Um, ok. My confession pretty much knocked all logic out of his head and our history together meant nothing. Despite al...

This is Craig. I do not know him. He sent me this message on MySpace: "my word you are so precious, your such a beautiful lil gurl !" I just threw up in my mouth a little. And vowed to get stronger locks on my door. At the same time though, the sheer and utter lack of proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation kind of turns me on. That and his love of tractor pulls, Sponge Bob, his two kids, his 65" TV, and his hero Burt Reynolds. (I'm not making this up, I looked at his profile.) So ladies, if the following sounds good to you, give old Craig a holla! "who id like to meet, well, mnnnnnnnn lets see, well, i dunno, i love long hair,i love lil precious dollbabys, the cute, nieve ones, someone who doesnt have alot of ex b/f issues, would like to find some one who loves the ocean, loves to cuddle, has a strong sexual appetite, knows how to braid lil gurls hair, ,some one who likes to travel around, or sit on the couch, on a sunday, and tune in to my 65" home thea...

Or a box of chocolates. So really I'm nothing like Forest Gump except I went running today and did 8 miles! Eight miles! I don't think you are comprehending the enormity of this. If you had told me in 2003 that by 2006 I'd be training for a half marathon and actually enjoying it I would have felt your head for a fever. Or stopped your bar tab. In January 2003 I was a gym going couch potato with no aerobic capacity. A friend of mine of fairly equal fitness level had trained the year before and completed a Danskin triathlon . Somehow she managed to convince me to sign up and do it in 2003. I am so cheap that putting down $75 to register forced me to begin training. I figured if I could actually do any of the three sections (half mile swim, 12 mile bike, and 3.2 mile run) then I'd be fine. My goals were to 1) finish and 2) not die in the process. I very slowly worked up from jogging half a mile at 5.0 on the treadmill and wanting to die, to being able to run the 3.2 mile ...

Inspired by Josh's food/sustainability comment to my last post I am choosing to write about our footprint on the earth, i.e. how much everything we do, use, throw out, or purchase affects the earth. I am lucky in that I live in a community that has a more palpable and visible consciousness of the world and our affect on it. We have cooperative grocery stores, farmer's markets, recycling and/or transfer stations, more free public transportation than most rural/small town areas, and a highly educated liberal population. Not that uneducated conservatives don't want to protect the earth, but from my experience (at Texas A&M) they are more worried about our souls than the environment. Who cares about global warming if the rapture is on its way? Luckily, that is changing . I was thinking about my footprint. I think I'm doing pretty well, although I can always do better. I stopped all magazines and newspaper subscriptions so I'm not killing trees in that way. I bring c...

That's right, I said Cinco EN Mayo, not Cinco DE Mayo. The difference being "In" rather than "Of" for those of you without the benefit of a minor in Spanish - or rudimentary Sesame Street. Not that my minor has been all that beneficial in an area devoid of anyone speaking Spanish. We don't even get Univision. I would have kept cable if I could have watched some telenovelas. But I digress, as usual. Anyway, although Cinco de Mayo is a great day for us gringos to get our margaritas on, I thought it might be more appropriate to declare a goal for this day, ergo Cinco en Mayo. Five in May. As in five pounds. There is no real reason besides lack of will power that I can't lose 5 pounds in May. Especially as I will be continuing to train for my half marathon the first weekend in June. If nothing else I should be running a few of those pounds off. How nice would it be if I could also eat right and lose a couple more? We'll see how it goes. My goals tend to ...

I've been in a good mood for the last few days. Part of that is the weather -sunny, warm, springlike - part of it is that I've gotten to see Friendster Guy pretty consistently. We had lunch yesterday and a couple of my co-workers saw us. One of them, my single and sassy friend V, saw me afterward and we chatted a little. Friendster Guy is very tall and slender and V said in singsong, "Tall, lean and lanky, and ready for hanky panky." Is that the grown-up (I use the term loosely) version of Sassy and Friendster sitting in a tree? I was amused. And replied with "No comment" and a big smile. So, my good mood. I'm not going to knock it. I'm hoping to use it to my advantage and get a bunch of stuff off my plate today. By the time Friday rolls around I'm warmed up and ready to get stuff done. What I'm doing the other four days until then is beyond me. Oh! And someone has said I am "hot." No wonder I'm in a good mood. He didn't eve...

I had three very strange dreams last night. In the first, I was having a telephone interview and my family (you know, the ones I liken to Munchkin landers) were all around me and I couldn't find a quiet place to do my interview. It was very frustrating. I almost killed them. Then, in the second, a co-worker and I won $10,000 on a scratch ticket but Elle McPherson kept telling us we couldn't collect it because we were in some sort of Union or non-profit or something else ridiculous. And finally, in the third I was part of some human pyramid competition where each row stands on the shoulders of the next and get really high up. People kept falling and I was desperately afraid I would get hurt. I was never actually in the pile but I was dreading it. And then, in real life, I got up to get a drink of water and Friendster Guy was talking in his sleep. He said something about "maverick". And when I said "I'll be back." He said, "Unless they try some evasi...

I wasn't going to comment on the subject of immigration. I didn't feel qualified and I didn't know exactly how I felt on the subject. However, I am a big fan of finding out what your opinion actually is by having a reaction to someone else's. I have had a reaction to someone close to me's strong opinion that immigrants are criminals who should be sent back home. I disagree. I disagree that "illegal" immigrants are criminals. For one, that would make pretty much all of our ancestors criminals. Unless of course you are Native American and then, well, you should feel free to kick us out on our mostly white heinies. What I think is more criminal than someone coming here for a better way of life (and the better way of life they find here is certainly not what most of us would consider even livable) is the people who already live here and pay no attention to their rights and priviliges. How many people voted in the last election? How many people born here are ab...

You know what scares me about living alone? My potential to choke on something and die without being able to do something about it. You don't know this about me but I have a propensity toward choking on things. Or at least to think I'm choking on things. It's genetic. I'm not kidding. My Dad and I both get stuff caught in our throats now and then. With me it's melted cheese or food that is long. I have moments of panic when I feel part of the food still in my mouth while the rest of it is going down my throat. The worst was when I was in Spain and I was eating a piece of calamari. The ring had been bitten in half but there was a piece of, for lack of a better word, sinew that connected the two halves together. I swallowed and realized I had a piece of calamari dangling in the back of my throat stuck to the one still in my mouth. Once I established that I was not in imminent danger, i.e. that I was still able to breathe, I tried to unobtrusively extricate the offendi...

Thank goodness this guy cleared a few things up for me. I had no idea my feminist leanings were destroying the moral fiber, nay, the whole structure of our society. Just in case you too were duped into thinking you were fighting the "patriarchy" but in fact are a victim of a plot to bring down the birth rate by spreading sexual chaos among men and women, I share some "facts" with you below. Did you realize that by stamping out "sexism," feminists really want to expunge heterosexuality? I had NO idea. It's a gosh darn good thing I stumbled upon Save the Males. I quote some of my favorite things from this article below [with color commentary]: "Let's begin by reaffirming our distinct male or female identities... The essence of masculinity is power. Isn't it obvious? It's what women respond to [that and bank statements. Give me Sylvester Stallone with a portfolio and I'm all over it. What ever happened to Sylvester Stallone anyway?]....

You could never, ever pay me enough to be the White House Press Secretary. I would rather work at a septic system company with the logo We're number 1 in the number 2 business * than subject myself to that. If you are concerned about free speech, check out Steven Colbert at the White House Correspondents dinner. It's a little long but he certainly takes his moment in the spot light to stick it to Washington. Hopefully his body doesn't wash up on the shore of the Potomac. * Actual tag line I saw the other day.

Friendster Guy and my Mom met for the first time this weekend. That leaves only 5 more parents to go between the two of us. My Mom said, "He seems very nice but it's hard to tell because he's so quiet. But that's probably a good thing because between you, me and your siblings it's impossible to get a word in edgewise in our family anyway." There might as well be someone listening to the rest of us. That job is now filled by my brother-in-law, P. It took me years before P and I ever had a conversation and it's still pretty sporadic. My family is loud and fast. And small in stature. My Mom's only 4'11". I feel bad for Friendster Guy when he finally gets the full effect of all 10-12 of us at once. It's like entering Munchkin Land complete with dancing and sound effects. As an only child it took my X years to get used to all the motion and frenzy and overlapping conversations without wanting to hide. He slowly uncurled from fetal just in time...