In case you were wondering-

It's 830ish in the morning. I'm listening to Crosby Stills & Nash (Marrakesh Express is on now, surprisingly bouncy). I'm drinking a lovely cup of coffee with that silly but tasty vanilla soy creamer. My tonsils feel like they are the size of golf balls and the heat of the coffee seems to tame the wretched soreness a little bit.

It's amazing what occurs to you at 3 AM.

Impulse control. I realize that, on both sides of the fam, we are severely lacking. That explains, perhaps, why I am bingeing on cran-grape juice.

Juice. When you're off solid foods, you exercise your badness in any way possible.

Juice, indeed.

Not to mention vitamin water, propel, and an odd combination of soy milk and Fox's U Bet.

Juice.

Benign neglect

I have been shamefully neglectful of this blog, and lazily tumblin all over the place. (To my #1 cousin who thinks I have endless free time, posting stuff on the tumblr is way, way easier than using thought and typing about things!)

In other news, I am striving to be memorable, lovable and fit. In some sort of order. I may or may not have given up on incredibly wealthy.

It's not you, it's me.

If you want a really cool but nonprescribing shrink, I can recommend one, highly. She's very cool and yet takes no shit.

I just quit therapy today. This is a good thing, I'm convinced of that.

So much for "keeping it to myself for awhile." (That was the original plan. Until someone notices. I guess. If I tell my mom I'm finally "cured" she'll ask "Are you sure?" Then again, I'm really sick of her asking me if I'm cured. But I digress.)

In some form or another, I've been in therapy for 18 years off and on. Not Woody-Allenesque analysis, just the talky kind. Again, there were often breaks in between. There was the short-termers - the dear, sweet old lady I was convinced was the soul of evil living in the coolest apartment in the city; the burnt-out NYU doc who went medieval on a terribly fragile me for cancelling an appointment (he was reported to administration; do not fuck with even a fragile me). There was my first real doctor at Mt. Sinai, a hulking babyfaced Westerner who I'm surprised survived me; last I saw he was an ER shrink in the Bronx. There was the curmudgeouly but handsome psychiatrist on the Upper West Side; the hippie-ish psychotherapist who, for a few years, I followed to Westchester - eventually the train ride was the most thereapeutic part of the day. And there was the woman, before this one, who I reduced to tears, and then she "forgot" our next (last) appointment. I hope she's in retail now.

I didn't necessarily plan it, although I'd been planning it awhile. She was terribly nice about it, more fair than I'd ever believed a therapist would be. "Perhaps you need to leave here, to put some of this stuff into practice." I think closure is overrated; I chose "goodbye for now" and was nice to know the keys to the sofa were always available. Which is a good feeling. I think if I was a twittering basket case, she'd perhaps have advocated against me returning to the light of day solo.

Anyway. I meant to say more, display all kinds of brilliant insight as to my mental evolution. Reflect, you know.

But right now I just can't sleep. For real.

Things to do

when you're tipsy:

Eat cheese and crackers
Make multiple corrections for typos
Amuse thyself

Things not to do:
Go out for sushi
Make phone calls.

Moderation knows no bounds.

"I'm going to put a to do list on your tombstone."
- The Ex-Husband

You know, this is the funniest thing I'd heard all day (or at least the second-funniest), but it's probably the most accurate.

My approach to life is often a bit extreme. I mean, it's not like I go hurtling down mountains intentionally or anything but I tend to push it.

For example, my exercise "program" (as it were):

Warm up: Start exercising
Exercise: Work out until dizzy, strange and near-puking
Cool down: Do a few more exercises

Repeat for a few weeks until legs are permanently wobbly, tendinitis sets in, and you are close to requiring intravenous fluids. Take a few weeks off. Wallow in self-loathing. Buy a new ill-fitting sports bra.

Repeat.

I'm not alone in this, but it's probably not the wisest course of action.

Moderation, where art thou?

For those who don't know me

(although that rules out 99% of the readers of this blog, although they may be amused by the following)

I am pretty much the exact opposite of this.

Hi, I have a boyfriend.

Did you know that?

I feel like I'm slowly emerging from the long-distance relationship closet, now that there may be a plan in place to make it not so.

I wonder if the people who may be vaguely intrigued by this will find it.

Nah.

He's tall, dark and goofy. I love him lots. He really exists, and owns lots of shoes. He likes my cooking and thinks I'm adorable. He is capable of cheering me up against my will. Turn-ons: leggy dames, video games, pastrami on rye (Sorry for the lack of a third rhyme.) Turn-offs: rare steak, polo shirts, lack of leg room. (Given up on rhymes). And more! He likes stuff I do (flea markets, otters, being goofy) and he likes stuff I'm not into (strategy games, comic cons, drawing). He has an unmistakably awesome laugh. He willingly accepts comedy foisted upon him. He likes giving random presents. He has the capacity to surprise me.

Anyway, that's him in a bloggy nutshell.

Hugs!

I am one telegenic fattte!

Joy! It's Fattie Day on Discovery Health! It's the 627 pound woman, the morbidly obese teenager, the fattest man, and plastic surgery galore! Watch the skin fly! I plan on tucking into a steaming plate of chicken enchiladas in front of the telly before the night is through. Yum-o!

I am one broke-down fattie.

Whine, whine, whine. That's what sucking down horse-choking antibiotics and associated goodies will do to ya. My delicate constitution is revolting, as am I (as a result of my delicate constitution revolting-verb, making me revolting-adjective. Got that, grammar fans?) I am exhausted, thirsty and not as functional as I'd like to be (lots of highly necessary domestic tasks falling by the wayside as I 'lounge' on the sofa attempting to crochet a horse which looks like a pregnant fish.)

The only thing amusing me at the moment is flipping between Reality Shows of Thing I Would Not Like to Attempt, including Project Runway, America's Next Top Model, and my new besties at Cheerleader U.

These girls and boys are Very Serious about cheerleading. The only person on the show with a sense of humor is the slyly masochistic trainer who loves dunking the kiddies into a 50-degree cold pool post-practice. Her, I like. The rest are Very Serious Indeed.

I'm going to have a nice bowl of acceptable herbal tea (Yogi brand Chai, without the syrupy nastiness of 'chai lattes') with some soymilk (just sweet enough). Otherwise, avert your gaze from me at all costs, or you will turn into a pile of ick.

Work it.

In this scene a gentlemen of my acquaintance and I were discussing my body. He was caressing my shoulder and was duly impressed with my incipient toning. An overly analytical discussion followed; in that, he felt that his favorable impression was 90% due to the fact that I was becoming better, stronger and healthier, and 10% was due to the fact that deep down, he believed that somehow I was doing it for him, and that was incredibly sexy.

Oddly, we were both wearing red T-shirts. Really nice dark red T-shirts.

Apparently I'm having a series of short, intense dreams with handsome-man commentary (see "Tim Gunn" earlier).

Just keep going!

Be afraid...I got my learner's permit today. I also ripped a thin strip of fabric from the bottom of my shirt to wear fetchingly around my neck.

Make it wo-

I had an amazing dream the other night, where Tim Gunn was standing outside a suburban home with me, in the garage (the garage door was open and we were leaning against the hood of a car, drinking a soda). He was impeccably dressed, of course. We were having a serious, thoughtful discussion about how my personal skills aligned perfectly with that of a television producer, and how he thought I would be an excellent producer. When I asked him how I would go about that (did I need to be an assistant? go to school?), he started to answer...and then I woke up.

Tim - Call me! Or, I absolutely cannot make this work!

Would you say that I was flat chested?

If I asked you honestly? And relatively?

I have no idea why I'm writing this. I am sniffing at a bag of chocolate chip cookies but don't feel like eating them.

Last night I almost had a 'wardrobe malfunction' because my favorite, molded-cup, formerly-pushup bra now oddly hovers over my girlish curves in the most random of manners. I had to run to the ladies' room to replace the girls back into their now-large spare rooms.

(in the interests of full disclosure, that bra is a size 44DDD.)

Sigh.

Here's a picture of a 1940s 'sweater girl' for your amusement.

What @!#%! time is it?

Yeah, 345. I'm Very thirsty and my mouth and throat feel like they've been sandpapered. I've been dreaming about men's butts, Kitty Carlisle and musicals. I wish I were kidding. All the men were actually or based on people I knew and coincidentally had the same name. I also popped some Jiffy Pop (in my dream). Maybe that's why I'm so thirsty.

I just took some Claritin and Tums. Maybe my situation will improve.

This quote describes several of my current relationships all too well.

"I think we have the kind of friendship where if I were the devil, you'd be the only one I would tell."

- Broadcast News

(I'd forgotten how much I loved this movie. It may be one of my favorite movies that I always forget is one of my favorite movies, if that makes any sense.)

Scrabbble is for cheaters!

Sponsor me!

Scrabble is for Cheaters

It's all for a good cause!

A new morning....

What am I wearing? A white tank and underwear. Lime green socks.

What am I drinking? GFIC "French Vanilla Cafe" with protein powder mixed in.

What am I thinking? Should I write a book? Can I get some laundry in? Raisin nut bread sounds nice.

What is required of me? Lunch with the family and the first Changing of the Linens.

What's the vaguely humourous retort in my head? Why do they call them linens anyway? What's the deal with that? I mean really are they actually made out of linen?

What's the burning question? Am I ready to watch Season 5 of the Wire?

What's new with me? What's new with you?!

Bad: A wicked case of insomnia, with an ulcer chaser.

Good: I found a couple of muscles today. They're firm!

Neutral: A tiny case of the sniffles; lowfat chocolate soy milk; three hours of the Strongest Man competition.

More Fun Facts!

(I am actually working on something interesting but my ADD seems to be flourishing today, with a light sprinkling of egomania)

Fun Fact #499: I enjoy silly blog memes. This one from Sassy Dr Snitterly.

1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Credit card bills... And the awful interest rates.

2. Where was the last place you had a romantic dinner?
A coffee shop in Vegas, overhearing a couple of Neil Diamond impersonators chatting. Okay, maybe not 'romantic' per se.

3. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to?
Nope.

4. Do you own a guitar?
Nope. Gave it to my nephew.

5. Name of your first grade teacher?
Mrs. O'Sullivan.

6. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance?
Several times, for myself and for others.

7. Do you own a piggy bank shaped like a pig?
No. Tootsie roll bank.

8. How many colleges did you attend?
Six (Hofstra, JHU, Queens College, Mt. Sinai, CUNY, Fordham)

9. Why did you choose the shirt that you have on right now?
It's neat and pink.

10. What are your thoughts on gas prices?
They will ruin us; I'm glad I don't drive.

11. Do you shower facing the shower head or with your back to it?
Facing.

12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
Too tired to think.

13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Why can't I sleep?

14. Do you have anything in your pockets right now?
My cell phone.

15. How many windows are open on your computer?
Four.

16. What errand/chore do you despise?
Vacuuming. Maybe laundry.

17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer?
Yes.

18. Get up early or sleep in?
Earlier nowadays.

19. What is your favorite cartoon character?
Bugs Bunny. And Kyle from South Park.

20. Who was the last text you received from?
Ryan.

21. Are you a daydreamer?
Sometimes.

22. When did you first start feeling old?
Recently.

23. Favorite 80's movie?
The Breakfast Club.

24. Your favorite lunch meat?
Smoked turkey.

25. What do you get every time you go into Costco?
I don't go there or to Sam's Club either.

26. Beach or lake?
Beach.

27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual?
Perhaps. Not really.

28. Do you own property?
No.

29. Favorite guilty pleasure?
Bad reality TV.

30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
Not sure. I'm pretty unashamed. Maybe, Love Actually.

31. What's your drink at the bar?
Jack on the rocks.

32. Cowboys or Indians?
As in football teams?

33. Are you sarcastic?
Noooooo.

34. Are you shy?
More than people think.

35. In the past week have you gotten sick?
No.

36. Norm or Cliff from Cheers?
Norm.

37. In the past week have you felt stupid?
Once or twice.

38. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
I have no regrets.

39. In the past week have you gotten your hair cut?
No.

40. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Anthony Bourdain.

41. Indoors or Outdoors?
Outdoors.

42. Have you ever crashed your vehicle?
Yes, my bicycle.

43. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?
No.

44. Last book you read for real?
A book about a woman crossing the Arctic. I forget the title.

45. Has someone disappointed you recently?
Yes.

46. What was the last film you watched?
A Mighty Wind with director's commentary.

47. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
Monterey. LA.

48. Have you been outside the USA?
Yes.

49. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or a new relationship?
Career.

50. Just how OLD are you?
A lady does not tell.