I *should* be in bed...

But I'm not.  My wake-up call (which comes from my iPhone AKA "Chopper the Big Doo-Dad") is set to go off at 5:45.  The Hubs is leaving for a week for work and I always like to see him before he goes.  Not to have a pity party or anything, but when he had to do business trips when we lived in New Orleans, I had friends that I could rely on to keep me company or meet me for lunch or dinner.  Or maybe even come over and we'd wine-it out on the front porch at my neighbor's house.

Sigh.  I miss those times.

So now, when The Hubs leaves, it's just me and the dog.  I don't have any friends here yet (have I ever mentioned how long it takes me to find people to hang out with??) and I get lonely.  Quite frankly, it's depressing as shit sometimes.  I shouldn't complain - it is what it is and I knew all about it before going into it (knowledge!!).  Now, I'm buckled in and the ride is in motion.  No stopping and getting off.

I head to Pensacola on Tuesday for a 10:30 AM appointment.  So, guess what??  My happy ass has to get up around 6:00 AM (the debbil you say!!) and on the road no later than 7:00 AM.  Fucking ghastly!!

My life is so exciting... I'm pretty sure I can watch paint dry some days.

Have a good Monday!!
Gulf J.

Funky Friday [featuring PensaCon].

Today has been an interesting day, to say the least.  I had my appointment with my bariatric surgeon scheduled for today.  Unfortunately, when I was half-way to Pensacola, the doctor's office called and I had to reschedule due to a patient who needed emergency surgery.  Since I was almost there, I figured I'd stop in and grab lunch at Cheddars (they have The Best Monte Cristo sandwich made there - and I can't find them ANYWHERE else).  After I finished my leisurely lunch, I hopped over to Books-A-Million to look for the new biography out on Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.  The book is called:  Notorious RBG:  The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.  Unfortunately, Books-A-Million didn't have that book although I could see plenty laying around about Jeb, Marco, and Ted (man, I almost lost my delicious Monte Cristo while looking at those assholes, let me tell you).

So, sadly, no books.

I took the slo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-w way home and was able catch an episode of Maury Povitch when I got in.  Is it probably the trashiest when it comes to reality television??  I'd say yes.  However, watching that shit go down on-screen and having some slutty little fool (please note:  I don't care if you're a slut or a fool or a working girl or what have you - just please use condoms and keep yourself safe - no extra bay-bees are needed, sugar!!) is on, talking to Maury, and then it comes out that she's been on the show a DOZEN times before - for the same fucking thing!!  NO.  NOPE.  Put me on the Never-Nope Train all the way to ThereIsNoWayInHellville.  Anyhow, the eleventh man this chick vaguely remembers having sex with was, of course, NOT THE FATHER.  Just give it up and forgeddaboutit.  How many times are you willing to humiliate yourself about some damned plane tickets, hotel stays, and food vouchers??  Thanks, but no thanks.  I've got that funny thing called pride (and I wouldn't want to have been found five-days-dead and rotted with some of these men).  Are some of these chicks unable to read the VERY BIG SIGNS that their man may be a loser??  Quick... someone write a "Dummy's Guide to Dating Losers".  That bastard would be a hot seller!!!

The point I was trying to make... I may feel like life can suck sometimes, but it never-ever-ever nearly sucks as bad as on some TV reality show like Hoarders, Intervention, or (yes), even Maury.

So... PensaCon is happening this weekend and we're going on Sunday for some meet-and-greets and I'm dying to meet Dante (Brian O'Halloran) and Jay (Jason Mewes).  ZOMG.  And it will be my second Con ever!!  W00t!!!

Plus, I got some good news today... a gift subscription that I sent a friend for a Yankee magazine *finally* made it over to her house.  I hope (very much) that she was as happy to receive it as I was to send it.

Until later peeps...
Gulf J.

Phase 1: Nutritionist. FAT.

I headed into Pensacola today to see my nutritionist.  He's great.  I felt comfortable with him right away, and he didn't bullshit me.  Two wins.  It also appears that I've been doing everything that I'm supposed to be doing as far as "weight control" goes.  I found it interesting that when I referred to my "fat ass", half the staff looked like they were about to have politically-correct induced heart-attacks.  Obviously, that terminology doesn't bother me.  I've been a big girl (read: FAT) for a huge (pun intended) portion of my life.  This is not an assumption.  This is a fucking FACT.  I am, under most medical terms, obese (read: FAT).  Why is it so odd that someone should have body acceptance and use their own terms of choice to describe this acceptance??  Besides, if some prick should have the stones to tell me that I'm a "lard ass", it's so much easier to just say "Duh!".  Believe it or not, they're so shocked half the time that it shuts them right the hell down.

And so...

There is, indeed, a fat acceptance movement.  For those people who want society to accept them just as they are is an admirable goal.  It's just not for me.  For me, FAT = unhealthy.  And seriously so.  My genetics are shit.  Just ask my primary care doctor who has been trying to medicate me for the last three years.  And it's not like I only see him once a year.  Oh, noes.  I go every three months, like it's my religion.  Bloodwork.  More bloodwork.  Urinalysis.  Food diaries, FitBit data, oh, the list goes on and on.  So for those healthy fat people, keep up the fat acceptance fight.  For me??  I'm not healthy and I want to be.  And that's the end goal.  I don't even give a rat's ass about how small I end up or what size I wear.

It's about living another 40 years while enjoying my life and torturing The Hubs (not really - I think he's far more worried about the bariatric surgery than I am).  And in all fairness, I did feel oddly uncomfortable while in the waiting room... because I was one of the smallest people in there.  I thought that my problems were bad... but there are so many others who are double and even triple my size.  I hope that every single one of them is able to find their happiness and to meet their own personal goals.

So... I have a small list of things that I would like to do once I'm recovered from surgery...

• Ride a bunch of roller coasters.
• Go SCUBA diving.
• Downhill skiing with some old friends.
• Buy a new wardrobe in France while I'm there this summer.
• Learn how to walk in hooker heels (hey, what can I say??)

I'm still working on a bucket list... but I'm trying to ensure that I don't kick the bucket yet.  

10-4 Good Buddies!!  

Gulf J.

It's VD!!

No, not the old acronym for venereal disease, but for VALENTINE'S DAY instead.  Anyhow, whether you're coupled, singled, poly-amorous, swingers, or those of you who just don't care about the holiday, I hope whatever you did was what you wanted to do.  We did!!

Ours went kind of like this:

The Hubs bought me a card and chocolates.
I bought the hubs a card and [literally] the same box of chocolates.
We laughed.  I had chicken for breakfast.  He stole some of my chicken.
Bubble bath.
Bad TV and movies with sarcastic and mean commentary from both of us.
You know, because we're really rich fucking movie critics!!
We cracked each other up.
The dog had high hopes for popcorn.

Hilarious.

Then, The Hubs cooked New York strip steaks and jumbo prawns on the grill.  We had a fresh baguette and a lovely little salad.  Best of all??  No muss, no fuss, and I didn't have to make reservations or wait for a table or any of that other stuff.

I didn't really ask for anything for VD.  As we've gotten older, it's been pretty much acknowledged that we *can* buy things that we want and not have to wait for a special day.  Shouldn't most days be special in some way??  I'm currently looking for a Charles Bukowski stretched canvas to go over all of our bookshelves in the living room.  He's one of my favorite authors, and The Hubs enjoys his stuff, too.  Try "Notes of a Dirty Old Man" or "Ham on Rye".  They are brilliant - and are so dysfunctional that they can't help but make you laugh.

So that was our day.  Life is good and this year is turning out to be better than expected.

Oy vey!!  If you had only had a glimpse of last year!!

Signing off,
Gulf J.

Hazy Lazy - And Crazy.

I can honestly say... I was not productive at all.  Oh, I managed to schlepp down to the grocery store and stock up on vittles for the week (and I found out that the dog ADORES banana chips)... but I didn't cook or anything.  And I took a nap and watched a movie when I woke up.  Really cheesy sci-fi, but it was interesting, to say the least.  If you're into dystopian depressive flicks, take a look at Snowpiercer.  IMdB gave it a 7, which was surprising.

One of my biggest pet peeves are groups (any kind... Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Civic Groups, Religious Groups, etc...) that set up to sell something as you're leaving the grocery store.  And they always have the kids accost you - and regardless of how polite you are at saying "no", the child will not leave you alone.

This happened to me today.  I said "No, thank you" at least five times to a girl who was probably 8 or so (admittedly, I suck-suck-suck at guessing ages of children, you know, from not owning any myself).  Finally, a woman (and I use the term loosely) says something along the lines of "WHAT??  Ain't you a feminist??  You don't want to support little girls??  What is your PROBLEM??"

I saw RED.  

First off, I'm really not a huge feminist.  I would be an absolute hypocrite to say that I was, indeed, a dyed-in-the-wool feminist.  There are quite a few reasons for this... I'm a stay-at-home wife, I volunteer with local organizations, I love expensive shoes and handbags, and I'm basically *kept*.  The lifestyle I lead works for me.  Period.    

Secondly, The Hubs and I have pretty traditional gender roles.  I take care of our home, I cook the meals, do the shopping, and the laundry and all the other happy crappy - to include managing our two other homes (which are rental properties).  The Hubs works and travels frequently, so this allows me to go along on trips if I want to.  Sorry, not sorry, I'm opting out of the North Carolina trip in April.

And lastly... I do give a fuck about girls and how the media portrays them and how their self-esteem is all wrapped up in what they *should* be or are *expected* to be by society's standards.  This is one of the reasons why I volunteer and work with Women's Flat Track Roller Derby.  Ladies of all backgrounds, races, religions, sexuality, sizes, and abilities are encouraged to join.  Fuck, you don't have to skate - most teams are charity teams (501C tax status) and give their proceeds away to local shelters or food banks.  

THAT is empowerment.  Not pimping out your girls to sell a shitty box of cookies and calling it "feminism".  

Gracefully stepping off my soapbox now.  

Thank you for reading.

Gulf J.

Mess: Part One.

Painting.

I don't just dislike indoor painting with a passion to rival all passions... I fucking loathe it.  And it's all my own fault for volunteering to paint a 2500+ SQF house.  The base color in most of the rooms is a dark beige or full-on taupe - it just depends on what time of the day you are looking at it.  In all my wisdom (sarcasm dripping here), I decided to paint EVERYTHING bright white, with one accent wall per room.

Guess what has been done??  The foyer.  The longer hallway.  The dining room (the tray ceiling needs desperate help).  And that. is. all.  Not one accent wall has been painted thus far.  And I've got to move a shit-ton of furniture around, which will mess up the dog and The Husby.  Both of them like their furniture to preferably stay in one place.  The dog gets stress-y and ends up with death-defying flatulence... and The Hubs??  Won't stop talking about my recreational furniture moving until everything is moved back.

Quite frankly, I'm up past my ankles now.  My procrastination is settling back in.  Oh, if I only had a few House Elves to help me paint, I'd give them all socks once the painting was finished.  And I'd still do my own laundry.  Promise.

So... next week (I have doctor's appointments on February 15th and February 19th), I plan on finishing most of one side of the living room.  The Husby is off on a business trip the week after that and I'd like to get the rest of the living room done when he is gone.  You know, kind of a surprise.

That will also give me an excuse to chill a couple of evenings with a glass of Box-deaux and a tawdry concubine novel.  But first... I will be a slave to the paintbrush.

Such is life!!

Bonsoir,
Gulf J

Long Road to Travel.

If you're reading this, thank you.

If it's unduly long, my advance apologies.

If you keep reading, kudos to you!!  

You see, I have a long way to go in order to become the person that I want to become.  Everyone evolves and changes... we actually are forced to because of the times.  If you don't want to fall behind, you've got to pick up gadgets and use them.  Play with them.  Figure them out.  Eventually, you get more proficient at it and... all of a sudden, you know them intimately.

Then the next new thing comes along.  Le sigh.

There are three things that I want to work on this year.  I'm starting with just three, because FFS - if I start with any more than that, my list will be astoundingly long.  Don't worry... I'll be sure to add to this list during the whole year.  Fun times!!

• Learn how to forgive people and let them go.  I can't fix them.  I can't even advise a good fucking shrink for them.  The anger and hate and betrayal has got to go.  I need to stop blaming someone else's selfishness for my sadness.  However, that being said... I will NOT reconcile.  Period.  They've burned me beyond my ability to look past that.  And in the past they shall stay.
• Finishing my house.  The Husby and I bought a house at the beginning of November and let me just say... all I see are half-painted walls and the damned painters tape decorating most doorways.  We have the new bamboo hardwood floors down, the new kitchen and laundry room tile in... but the living room looks like it's been painted with a cheap white chocolate bar.  It's not helping that the ceilings are (I think?) 16 feet high in some places.  And all I can picture is my falling off the ladder while The Husby is gone for a week (to some odd location where he can't get home and I know no one here) and I end up getting "revived" by the dog licking my face.  Laugh, people, laugh.  The truth is somewhat always weirder than reality.  Ha!!
• My weight-loss journey.  That should be interesting (to say the least).  I'm seeing a gastric bariatric surgeon this month.  I don't know how things are going to go - and I don't want to speculate.  I will, however, be happy to share all my ups and downs, trials and tribulations, and to be as honest as I can be.  My first appointment is on the 15 - a mere few days away.

Those are my three things.  Of course, there's more to it (isn't that ALWAYS true??) but it's a start.

Oh, I forgot one more thing - container gardening.  We have a fabulous deck that stretches almost the entire length of our house in the back yard.  I want to brighten the whole thing up with funky containers and flowers and PALM TREES (who the hell lives on the coast of Florida and doesn't have a palm tree in their yard??  THIS CHICK.)... so that will get me out of the house and soaking in the Vitamin D.  

If you have questions... ask.  Email me.  I don't think comments are disabled on here, I think I'll have one of my friends check and make sure.  

Stay happy!!!

Gulf J.