Catching Up

I have a cousin that is exactly two days older than me. We always try to talk to each other during "our" time. Sometimes I will call her; sometimes she'll call me on HER birthday, beating me to the draw. We often split the difference and talk on the day between our birthdays.

Yesterday, we added a new dimension: phone tag. When we finally were able to both be on the phone at the same time, we happily got caught up on the year's comings and goings. She then reminded me that I needed to catch up on my blog, since the last entry was exactly a month earlier.

I suddenly realized that we all do a lot of 'catching up" this time of year. After all, Tis the Season, right?

We vow to write personal notes in each Christmas card, but we usually end up with the requisite catch-up letter. That is easier anyway, and it gives us extra time to catch up on all the other things.
 
You clean  your house before Thanksgiving for the company coming, and you have to catch up on re-cleaning everything after the mess. By then, it is December, and your to-do list gets so large that it seems you spend the entire holiday season catching up.

Cleaning, shopping, trying to get extra rest for the really hectic week from Christmas Eve and New Years -  all of this takes a toll on you. For some it is a physical toll, for others it's all mental. For us perpetual dieters, it is not about catching up but getting rid of those extra pounds we have already started to accumulate.

Our diet guru for our support group recently wrote that one piece of pie is not going to make you fat. But if you are trying to catch up with everybody else eating and not worrying, do you stop at one piece? Probably not during the holidays.

I have a really stupid habit of trying to make the pie left in the pie plate be "even." By that I mean, I am obsessive about making each side be the same size/shape as the other. I constantly will keep trying to even it out, sliver by sliver. Weird, right? I don't do that with anything except cakes and pies. Maybe it is because I know I shouldn't eat it, and if I make it look right, somebody will take it home and put me out of my misery before my guilt catches up with me, or worse, I just eat the whole thing to make sure nobody notices it is uneven. Guess where it catches up with me then?

After the big meal, you then have to catch up on the exercise machine. You say you will walk, but it is cold or rainy. You promise you will get on the stationary bike in the morning, but you realize you need coffee first. Then you promptly forget all about it....

It is good to be able to catch up with family and friends, especially this time of year. We all promise each other to call all during the year, and at the time, we really mean it. But then our lives catch up with us and we tell ourselves we will call next weekend.

Tomorrow I turn 61 years old, and I have done a lot of thinking about how much time I really have left in my life to catch up with all the things I wanted to say or do, of the friends that I think about calling but don't, or find a way to pay off that bill that caught up with my spending. How can we ever "catch up?"

I don't know about you, but I need to stop worrying about what I cannot or did not do, and start appreciating what I have done, and finding a way to do what I must.

I have lost 45 pounds, and I am healthier for it. I know I will lose more, especially if I catch up with all the good habits I need in order to be successful. I have a job, and if it goes away, I know I can find another one. God dropped this one in my lap, and if it is meant to be, another one will fall my way. I will no longer worry about what amount of money I don't have, and count my blessings that I have a steady income and a roof over my head. I have family and friends who love and take care of me. I am blessed.

And I am NOT going to fret over a piece of pie or a cookie. I know I will work it off eventually. I am going to enjoy the Christmas season for the right reasons, and the rest will take care of itself.

Happy Birthday, Donna. We are older, but we are wiser.

Merry Christmas, Everybody!

We've Got Our Groove Back

I love being a Texan. We enjoy life. And in Texas, it is ALL about the pigskin. And I ain't talkin' the eatin' kind!

We live and breathe football. It starts early in life, and grows steadily through high school. Back in the days of my school years, we felt it was a failure if we didn't draw in 12,000 fans on our Friday night games. And that TV show "Friday Night Lights?" It pretty much portrays life in Texas during the season.

When we get to college, the rivalries get even more intense. My alma mater, The University of Texas at San Antonio just completed their first season. While we didn't have a winning season, the team drew over 32,000 fans in their first game in the Alamodome. The support continued all season long. Congratulations, Roadrunners!

But for me, it is all about the pros. Specifically the Cowboys. I have been a fan since Don Meredith. I was in love with Craig Morton. Roger Staubach was The Man. Troy Aikman? What can you say? And I would adopt Tony Romo in a heartbeat!

My favorite holiday quickly became Thanksgiving because you went directly from the Aggies and Longhorns to the Dallas Cowboys. And it was perfectly okay to have the game on during the meal. Our appetites went as the Cowboys went. And for the longest time, the best games were between the Cowboys and the Redskins.

Remember when Coach Landry and Coach Allen accused each other of spying on the enemy? And how about Clint Longley's wild game? Lots of memories! And I think the 'Boys have their groove back.

And because I seem to go as Dallas goes, I think I am getting mine back!

I have been able to get back on track with my job. Sales were miserably slow all week for all of us, but Friday was a banner day for me. Two sales, the only sales of the day, in a matter of a couple of hours. My ego boosted right up! I had not had one since I had come back from my shingles, and I was beginning to feel frustration. And when I am frustrated, I eat. Poorly!

I have lost a pound this weekend, and I feel a great burden has been lifted off my shoulders. It feels good to think that you are back on the right track. Perhaps more importantly, it makes you want to STAY on that track. I even pulled out my exercise video out right after the game. I think I even produced a little sweat. It was great!

Yes, the Cowboys and I have something in common. We are both heading towards our goals. And I can gloat because it was an overtime win.

Cowboys 27 Redskins 24.

And, sorry John, I really hate that stupid song. My heroes have always been Cowboys!

It Makes You Scratch and Itch

I love that old song "Poison Ivy." My favorite line is about the ocean of calamine lotion. I found myself singing that song quite a bit the last couple of weeks.

The last Friday of October was monumental for me. I got a relatively clean bill of health from the cardiologist. I admit I was more than a little apprehensive when he mentioned he wanted to check my aneurysm just to make sure that all was okay there. It was, no worries from that end!

I also went to my lap-band doctor and was surprised that I had actually maintained my weight despite eating poorly the past couple of months. I got my usual fill and went on my merry way, scratching around the  lidocaine injection site all they way out to the car. I didn't stop to think that my stomach was itching even more than it had been over the last few days.

That night, I texted my friend Jill and asked if she had ever heard of getting a reaction  from lidocaine. She used to work in a hospital, so I thought she might know something about it. When I looked a few minutes later, I had what looked like hives around my scar next to my lap-band "port." I told myself I had better stop scratching.

When I awoke the next day I thought that I really had been scratching in my sleep because I also had a nearby patch of what looked like scratch marks. I cut my nails since I was still itching like crazy.

The next day, when the third patch appeared, I hauled out the super heavy duty cortisone cream I had left over from a severe case of dermatitis.

By the fourth day, I found some old calamine lotion and began to apply it to all four patches.

Nothing worked. So, I decided yet another trip to my doctor was in order.

Here comes the good part.

He walked in and said, "What's going on?"

I pulled up my shirt and said, "You tell me."

Without hesitating, his diagnosis came out loud and clear. "Shingles."

" $%#@ no!"

" $%#@ yes! And from the looks of it you have had it for a while."

Fastest darn ninety bucks I ever spent!

So, a week of prednisone and a nasty anti-viral that made me feel even worse became my reality.

Shingles itch and burn. I was fortunate that my outbreak was relatively mild. Curiously, as I was posting to my friends on Face Book that I now had a new illness, a good friend of mine was posting the same thing. We ended up commiserating together through many text messages. Her breakout was along the face and hair, which could be dangerous so close to your eye. Mine were on my torso, and the last one just out of reach of my scratching ability.

And, to make matters worse, I was officially banned from our small office. Several coworkers there had not had the chicken pox, and while you are only contagious when the blisters appear, they wanted no part of me or my shingles. Just as well.... the prednisone made me carnivorous and the anti-viral made me... well, just trust me, you don't wanna hear about it. It would definitely fall under the category of TMI.

I am better, and am now once again attempting to get back on track with healthy eating habits. I blamed the predinisone when I ate the whole bag of Crisp Butter Fingers before Halloween. I am not sure who or what to blame for the cookies.

Did you know that they now make a clear calamine lotion? Wonders never cease!

It's All-Consuming

I have decided that my new job has taken over my life. I know there will be rewards down the road, but in the mean time, everything revolves around work. In some cases that is good, but it also has led to some poor choices on my part.

I am working well over forty hours a week, which is good for the old checking account. Not to mention it makes it a little bit easier to pay bills. That is good. And the work is not physically hard. But the fact that I am sitting most of the day has made my knees hurt and my ankles swell. I need to remember to get up and walk around every so often to get the blood flowing from head to toe in its proper fashion. I get so busy I sometimes forget to do just that. So I am bringing my exercise "sheet" that I got at a support group meeting a month or so ago, and I am taping them to my cubicle as a reminder to get up and move.

But, I have also realized that I have made a LOT of poor choices regarding food and drink that is directly related to work. And that is something that I must correct immediately!

I had a little health scare last month that required a visit to my cardiologist. I have always had premature heartbeats for as long as I can remember, and I have a couple of minor murmurs. But last month, the premature beats seemed to take over my very existence, so much so that I was afraid that I had a serious problem.  It turns out that I apparently let myself get dehydrated. It took a while for that to sink in, as I thought I was drinking during the day. Wrong!

It was so hot in Texas this summer that we all needed to increase our water intake, and I did that when I was at home. However, I didn't continue that at work. I was very self conscious of the fact that I would have to get up and pee every five minutes if I drank the required amount. So, I told myself that a sip here and there was more than enough. It wasn't. I told myself I would make it up when I got home. I didn't. I was too tired, and frankly, just didn't think about it.

On Labor Day Weekend, my sister and I sold her blankets and my books at Marina Market Days. It was the hottest day of the year, well over 105 degrees, with a heat index approaching 120. We were in it all day, but the shade we had and the water we drank wasn't enough. And when I didn't get enough water the next days at work, my problems increased to the point that thinking about my weird heartbeat became all-consuming!

When I figured out what was going on after a few doctor visits, I stopped to assess what else in my life I had allowed to consume my thoughts and energy. The list got longer in a very short time.

I didn't consume too much coffee at work, but the coffee I did drink contained an awful lot of flavored creams. I allowed myself to consume junk food way too often. My work hours consumed so much of my time that I rationalized I didn't have time to exercise. I was so hungry when I got home that I consumed too much at supper time. And I realized I was consuming an unacceptable amount of fast food. All the things that hurt me so much when I was teaching I was now doing again. And it wasn't any better for me this go around that it was the first time.

After talking to my regular doctor, the cardiologist, and my lap-band surgeon, I realized I seriously needed to make adjustments. I talked to my boss about my need to eat correctly. I now go home at lunch and eat lightly, bringing back water to work, not soda. I readjusted my snack foods to make it healthier. I haven't worked out the time issue, because I realize the huge rewards that are just around the corner if we all put in the hours. But I have realized it is okay to go to the little girl's room as needed, and I don't care if anybody gets upset because I get up and walk around and/or stretch once an hour. It is what I have to do to to stay healthy.

I cannot let my need to pay bills become all-consuming! Nor can I allow myself to sit and worry about that which is out of my control. I can only recognize it as a challenge and find a way to do what I need to do in spite of that challenge.

I thought I had gained 3-5 pounds with all my bad habits. I had only gained one. I am glad I didn't let my guilt consume me. Friday I got my first fill in 3 months, and I think that will help me get back on track.

I also didn't let my guilt consume me when I went to my favorite clothing store to buy something new for the first time in over six months. No sirree! I just whipped out my credit card and bought it.

It didn't hurt that the pants were a size smaller than I had previously bought. And it wouldn't hurt if that goal of buying an even smaller size became my all-consuming goal!

Just When You Think You've Lost

It is amazing how many actions come right after you think that you have won or lost something. This week has been chock full of examples that have either come up and smacked me in the face or have creeped in my mind without me even knowing I had been harboring those thoughts.

I had been struggling with the fact that my success in my job was not quite as successful as I wanted. I had yet to make a sale; and even though I have contributed in many other ways, I was beginning to feel like a failure. The only thing I have ever truly sucked at was hammering a nail. Try as I might, the nail goes in either crooked or has been pounded to death. I don't know why, I just can't "nail" it!. I was beginning to think that I would never be able to nail down a sale.

So, just when I was feeling as if I was in the wrong job, BINGO! I called a lady, expecting to be put on hold. Instead, after a short conversation she told me she was ready to try it. My first sale! A lot of fist pumping occurred, and I am not sure, but I think my boss did a little happy dance. And just when I thought it was a fluke, my second occurred. Now I know I can do, not just teach! And I feel as though a huge brick was lifted off my shoulders. I got so excited, I forgot to eat!

I know this is how the Cowboys must have felt, only in reverse. They thought they couldn't lose after a 24 point lead. But just when they thought that maybe it wasn't their day, Detroit decided to remember why they are so far unbeaten this year.

My sister and I sold her blankets and my books at Marina Market Days on Saturday. It was a beautiful day, and many people were out just enjoying the cooler air and the bright sunlight. They were most lookers and not buyers. But just when we thought we were going to lose money that day, she suddenly sold a few beach throws, and a couple of people stopped and bought my book. It felt good, especially when a total stranger stopped and browsed the back of my book. She looked at me and said, "I've read this book, you had some weird things happen to you when you were going back East, right? Your book was excellent!" I was shocked, and a very pleasant feeling oozed up from my toes to my smile. Just when I thought no one except my friends would ever read my book, a total stranger, with a simple comment, made my day!

Last week, I decided to dress up a little more than my usual wear of jean capris and t-shirt. Somebody in the office said I looked really nice that day. Just when I thought nobody noticed. That was the day I got my first sale. Coincidence? Maybe. But then again, maybe I was set up to be relaxed and that was what allowed me to reach my goal.

It is the same with your daily diet routine. Just when you think you have lost the ability to get back on track, you lose a pound and realize you still "got game." Not sure about those pesky Cowboys...

I think the point is, you can't ever think that you have lost. When you do, it is like you are giving up hope. And some days, hope is all you have to fall back on. You must always remember just when you think all is lost, someone, something, or maybe even God, comes along and changes your thinking and makes your day.

Saturday our Marine's Charlie Company came home after many months in Afghanistan. Sherry and I watched the waterways in hopes of seeing their ship come so we could stand along the shore and cheer them on. We knew we would not be able to get to the parade on time, so we wanted to have our own. But we never saw the ship. Thinking we lost our opportunity, we both mentally welcomed them back. As we were going home, we noticed there was still quite a crowd gathering. At a stoplight, I rolled the window down as asked if we missed the troops. One lady told us that they were delayed in California and should be by in about 10 minutes. They were coming by Southwest Airlines and upon landing at Corpus were to motorcade down Shoreline all the way to the base. We hastily found a parking spot and ran for a space to wave as they passed. Shortly thereafter, escorted by police and our Patriot Honor Guards, two big buses of Marines came rolling down the road. They were greeted by all with flags, waves, and thumbs up. You could see their surprise and delight as they realized what was going on. I bet they were grinning from ear to ear all the way as they saw almost 2000 people cheering them on the entire ten miles to the Naval Air Station, where their families awaited them. It really made us both proud and humbled that we were a part of their homecoming.

Just when you think all is lost....

Yep, a show of patriotism and a Few of the Proud is all it takes to make your day!

Welcome home, Marines. Thank you for a job well done, and thank you for your service and sacrifices.

Lost in Translation

I have been working really hard at getting my spiel down about the service we offer at my new job. I practice and I practice, with other people, in the car, talking to my friends. But when the time comes to talk with a perspective client, my message somehow becomes unclear and less focused.

It gets lost in the translation.

Don't ask me why; if I knew, I would fix it. I can't figure out if it is that I still truly don't get "it," or are my own doubts standing in my way?

If you have known me for most of your life, you already know the answer. I was raised as such a goody two-shoes that I just knew if I followed the set rules, I would be okay. Don't take risks, and you don't risk failures. I know that I can overcome failure and flubs. But I overly obsess over that one that I will not be able to fix and emerge whole again.

Now, why is that?? I am over sixty, had a fairly successful career, even overcame some personal adversities. So what is holding me back? Why can't I jump this latest hurdle?

My logical side of my brain says "just jump over it, dummy." But that message gets lost in translation on its way to my heart and my action. So, I guess it all boils down to fear. Not really fear of failure, but more likely a fear of success.

If I succeed in this job, I can do what I want to help my family, pay my bills, and live a comfortable life. Should be an easy hurdle, but I have made it seem higher than it really is.

The same is true with my dieting. I have been stuck for a while in a rut, and while I am working my way out of it, I have forgotten the message of the reason for the lap-band.

It got lost in translation.

I started this journey to get healthy. And I am well on my way to that end, even though I have not lost much weight in the last three months. And when I am in a temporary downward spiral, I must remember not to lose that part of the message. I still need to make wise choices, eat only healthy foods, and stay active.

I cannot afford to allow that part to get lost in translation.

As I get more comfortable with my job, I need to transmit my message with confidence, as if this is the most important piece of information that client will get today. And as I continue my lifestyle journey, I need to feel confident that I am on the right track, that I will ultimately achieve my goal.

I will not allow that part to get lost in translation!

Maximizing My Potential

Well, fellow readers, it has been a very busy couple of weeks. I am adjusting to my new job, but still have a ways to go to get my morning "routine" down in order to have my coffee and still create time to work my puzzles without having to get up at 0-dark thirty!

Every day my boss has a pow-wow to role play some selling techniques and to trouble shoot problems that crop up. It is such a new company that we are all on a growth curve and seriously on a figure-it-out-as-you-go operating mode. Which is good for someone like me who has no sales experience to speak of, because I can make a mistake without fear of failure.

Today the meeting was about figuring out exactly what our goals are, what we wanted to get from working for this company. We have grown from three to nine employees in the last week, and he is adamant about helping those of us who were with him from the get-go to reach some monetary goals. He believes in his company, he believes in the potential, and he believes it is his responsibility to share a little of the wealth with those who are helping to make the company successful. Payoff for the hard work.

When I started working for him, my goal was to make enough to pay my bills and go on an occasional trip. But when he asked me, I came to a realization that I wanted more than just a little icing on the cake. I want to buy a piece of land, make some updates on my house, not leave my niece and nephew debt to deal with. I had begun to think that maybe the potential is there for me to make a lot more than I first thought. And I realized I was going to have to put myself out there, be vulnerable and willing to make mistakes, learn from them and grow.

As I was thinking I needed to update my blog tonight, it hit me! These are my weight loss goals! I started this journey to get healthy, but as I go further along, I realize I am seeing myself skinny and svelte, way past the healthy. I wanted the new me to really be a new "me." I have made mistakes along the way; I have stumbled. But it is okay. I have learned from them and moved on. Did I meet my summer goal? Nope. But it is not the end of the world. I can still meet my weight loss goal even if it takes me longer than I thought. The point of it all was to make the changes I need to make, and as I do that, I will lose weight and become healthy.

And... if my potential on the job is reached, I can have a totally guilt-free shopping spree at La Palmera Mall. How much fun is that going to be??

It is good to have dreams, but it is even better to realize that you are on your way to maximizing your personal potential. And that is going to put  a whole lotta icing on my "cake!"

And I won't feel guilty if I take a bite of it!

Revive Your Spirits

I have had my spirits revived in so many ways this past couple of weeks. It has helped to wash away many of the frustrating self-doubts that had been oozing their way into my psyche. I wanted them gone, and I didn't want to have to find a pill to make them disappear!

My friend Jill told me that I was under the two month rule. She explained that for every $10,000 you want to earn from a job, you have to wait about a month to find said job. She was just about spot on. I am working within an industry that I wouldn't have even given another thought to had it not dropped in my lap while I was sitting on the swimming pool steps. And who gets a boss that rewards you with a bonus on their second day? Or who lets you, after four days on the job, take off for a couple of days to go on a trip?

Working perks aside, just knowing that somebody wanted to take a chance on ME lifted my spirits up so much. Each resume sent and not responded to was downright depressing. Running to the phone in hopes it was somebody, anybody,calling about a job offer only to find a telemarketer on the other side positively made me cry. And as that burden lifted, I began to see other things around me that truly did lift my spirits.

I had a little more money in the bank, so I could go get my hair cut. That lifted my 'do as well as my spirits! And in celebration of my new found job, she gave me a discount. That made me smile, and smiling is a really good spirit lifter.

But what really lifted my spirits was the comments from family about how much weight I had lost. That was the kicker!

I had been off track, not losing what I wanted to over the last few months. I had wanted to be twenty pounds less than I now was in order to make sure people noticed when I went to my family reunion. I was afraid that they would still see me as really fat. Because I had no husband or kids to bring to the gathering, I wanted to at least be noticed for looking good!

I had conveniently forgotten that I had already lost over forty pounds, and that it showed! And guess what? They did notice!

This reunion was a long time in the making. Of the ten kids born to my grandmother, every single branch had at least one of their descendants at the reunion. We came from all over, and we oohed and awwed over their kids and grand kids. We took lots of pictures, and there was a ton of hugging. And nobody went away disappointed about how much they had or had not changed. But the changes were all on the outside, not the inside where our psyches lurked.

The dark side of my spirit wanted to believe that my kinfolk would judge me and find me wanting. Fortunately, it never got to rear its ugly head. My good spirits side was determined to savor every moment of the reunion, and that side kept me smiling all day long.

I got quite a few comments about my weight loss, but what surprised me was that it did not matter! The reunion was about what we did as cousins or as brother or sisters, not what we looked like. Yes we had changed, and yes we decided at the last minute that name tags would help, but our childhood memories were all intact. All one hundred or so of us there had our spirits lifted right there in the Knights of Columbus Hall in Iowa, Louisiana.

One cousin, with whom I had connected with via Face Book, was particularly thrilled. She lost her dad first through a divorce, and later through his death. She didn't know hardly any of us. And of all of the second or third generations there, she had her spirits lifted the highest. She had found out who she was by visiting the past with all of her new-found relatives. Seeing her enjoy the experience truly made me feel loved.

Sometimes, all we need is a smile and a kind word or two to have our psyches tweaked. And those minor things make your spirit positively soar!

A New Path

Finally! My elevator is no longer stuck, and my roller coaster ride is over! I am joining the ranks of the employed tomorrow. What an uplifting feeling that is. I have already begun to dream how to spend all that money after all the bills are paid. I am positive I will have no trouble making that dream a reality!

The job is with a startup company that has infinite possibilities. I will be learning the workings from the ground up. This excites me. Everybody needs a new challenge once in a while. And even better, the office is about three miles from my house. I won't have to leave an extra thirty minutes early to get to my job on time!

For the first time in a long while, I have actually thought about cooking healthy again instead of cooking to end my stress cravings. Having a steady routine is extremely necessary for me in order to eat to live instead of eating to appease my frustration. Because the workplace is so close to home, I can choose to eat a light healthy lunch and be home early enough to cook a very healthy supper. This will get my weight loss back on track.

I will also have time in the mornings to make myself get into a healthy exercise routine before I sit at the table to drink coffee. I will even have time to work a puzzle or two in the paper. The exercising will help me to start firming up the parts that have been a little saggy since I have lost forty pounds, and perhaps stave off any other sagging parts as I lose even more. And what is even better, I will have money to go out and buy some new clothes! That is what I have been waiting for!

I did not meet my goal of losing an additional twenty pounds by end of summer. But Emmy, my support group guru, reminds me that I need to cut myself some slack since it has been a very emotional spring and summer for me. That is true, I do need to do that, but the biggest hurdle I have is in thinking that I did not do what I was supposed to do. I did not meet my deadline.

But, as I start a new career, I do realize it is okay. I got hired. He thinks I can do what he wants me to do, and in order to be successful, I will do the job to my best ability. I can have do-overs at work if I mess up while learning, and I can certainly have do-overs in my personal life when I mess up. I need to remember that!

I am going to my family reunion next weekend, and it should be a blast. So far we are about up to eighty of us cousins, with several more still to be heard from. We will be loud, and there will be laughter. Some haven't seen me before I got fat, and very few have seen me since I started my lap-band journey. It will be interesting to see there perceptions of the old/new me.

I hope the jambalaya is fat free. Seriously, what are the chances of that??

Good News-Bad News Rollercoaster

Greetings, Fellow Readers!

This past week has been a good-bad-good-bad news sort of week. None of the bad news has been devastating, but it seems to me that I really deserve a little normalcy in my life. But then, many of my friends would attest that I have never BEEN normal...

The good news was last week, we thought we might get a storm heading our way and bring some much needed rain. The bad news was it might turn into a damaging hurricane.

The good news was Don didn't. The bad news was Don didn't. It just fizzled, dried out as it hit our coastline, and according to the national weather center, did so like no other storm has ever done. I can attest to that. As I was floating in the pool one day, I noticed dark clouds coming my way. I thought I might have to get out of the water, but then I saw it. The rain coming down, and literally evaporating halfway down as it hit the extremely dry air.

The good news is at least my high storm shutters are up. The bad new was I twisted my knee again going up and down the ladder. but the good news was that I didn't have to go get a cortisone shot. And my shutters are staying up until after hurricane season.

The good news was I stocked up on quick foods in case the electricity went out. The bad news it didn't so I had lots of "not so good for me" food. The good news the pizza was really good. The bad news? It was really good.

The good news was that I actually found a few job opportunities. The bad news was that most have ignored my request for an interview. The good news I got one opportunity, but the bad news was I didn't get the job.

The good news is I found still another personnel agency and had an chance for a face-to-face meeting. The bad news is that agency didn't like my reinvented resume and actually liked the old one better. Third revision coming up!

The bad news is all that extra pizza loved my waistline. The good news is I have two weeks to work it off.

The bad news is I had to face the fear of discovery of my pizza indiscretion last night at my support group. The good news is I didn't, and that they are reinventing the support group format which should be even more productive.

The good news is my doctor reduced the dosage on my blood pressure medicine. The bad new... oh, wait! That is ALL good news! It means I am making progress!

The good news, I am not normal. The bad news is that I am not normal....

More fun being weird, but a teensy bit of normalcy would be greatly appreciated for a couple of weeks.

Grandma's Spoons

Sitting around waiting for a call for an interview can consume your entire day. It can even make you go a little nutzoid if you don't find an outlet for your body and soul. Since I was leaning more toward "you are going crazy" side of the wait-for-job-o-meter, I decided that I needed some adjustments to my daily grind.

I have finally (hopefully) gotten back on the weight loss track after a 3 month detour. This has actually allowed me to do something that I haven't been able to do in several years: swim laps in the pool. Okay, maybe not laps since my pool is pretty small and somewhat shallow, but back and forth all the same. However, it has been so hot and humid down here in South Texas that I have had to wait until later in the evening to get out in the 90+ degrees water. So what to do during the rest of the day became my quest.

I tried my Tae Bo Power Rounds but that darn Billy Blanks is hard to keep up with. Being a southern lady I could say that I gracefully perspired during the workout. But I'm not. I sweated. Profusely. And then decided that was enough of that for the day.

I then remembered that I had wanted to tackle something for quite a while. It took a little digging, but I finally found Grandma's spoons. I pulled out the big box and carefully began to sort through them all.

What is unusual about that? I bet you're thinking of those cute little spoons with a state name on top that goes in a nice little wall case. Nope. Not my Grandma. She was more creative. As I went through them all, I began to pray that she wasn't a kleptomaniac!

You see, Grandma and Grandpa (and the childhood version of my dad) were fortunate to travel quite a bit from the 1930s to the 1950s. Daddy used to boast that he had visited every state except the original Thirteen Colonies. And everywhere that Grandma stopped at a restaurant, she appropriated a spoon. She would then carefully tag each spoon with blue yarn and a note of who was with them, where they stopped, the date, and sometimes a little commentary about the reason for the trip.

Most of the yarn had rotted, so many of the tags were off their respective spoons. But a few remained. After reading the stories on the tags, I decided to see if those restaurants were still around someplace. I started off with the local chambers of commerce, and many of them were very helpful and all of them were amused at the story behind them. So far one spoon is en route to the Santa Monica Pier and the museum they are putting together there. Another spoon saw the Marfa lights, but we are still looking for Ramona's Cafe. By now the Nimitz Historical Museum in Fredericksburg, TX should have received a special spoon noting the time my grandparents took my soon-to-be dad and his girlfriend up to Enchanted Rock in order to propose to her. Another spoon from the just-across-the-border Mexican town of Piedras Negras marked the time they went to the bull fights. Tags from Colorado and Montana are still waiting. I have one from England that must have come from my Aunt Mugs, and I even found the one Daddy must have pilfered from his navy ship, the U.S.S. Jason, to send to his mother.

My memories of times past are somewhat more mundane, but to me very exciting. I have them all hanging in my closet or folded to give away. Memories of what I used to look like and what I hope to look like again. Memories of why I bought that special dress, and nightmares of whatever was I thinking when I bought that?! They represent almost 15 years of my weight struggles, and while there were many good times, there were also an awful lot of tears of frustration hanging in there.

I think I like Grandma's idea better.

Grandma is long gone, travelling the heavens, but my journey is still continuing. I wonder where I will end up?

As I continue to wait for a job offer and think about the new "me," I will keep on trying to find a home for all of Grandma's spoons.

Maybe I can bring a memory back to someone who needed a warm fuzzy that day. Ought to be fun!

I Am Not Functional

I have determined that my life is in a non-functioning phase. My biorhythms must be at all time lows. The signs have all been there, but I was lured into falsehoods and blissful ignorance on so many levels.

When I retired, I thought I could live on my retirement with a few hundred bucks earned through a part time job. I foolishly let myself believe that for over a year. Now the joke's on me. I must work full time in order to make ends meet. What was I thinking?

I was thinking that it would be easy for an older woman to get a part time job because we have all heard the rumors that this younger generation doesn't want to work as hard as I would. I was thinking that even though there is still a lot of misbelief that "those who can't, teach." I was determined that I would show them all.

They usually say, first the body goes, then the mind. Well, fellow readers, I am right on track to keep that myth percolating!

If my body hadn't gone south, I probably would not be writing this blog weekly. And I discovered this past week that my thinking has been just short of delusional for a very long time. Ergo, I am not functioning...

I didn't count on the economy being so bad that after forty years of working and still kinda young that I would be competing for an entry level position with CPA's and PhD's looking for any sort of income. I didn't think that I would have to explain myself so thoroughly because my well thought out resume said it all for me. And I had a killer cover letter. Or so I thought until I met with a professional job placement expert.

She told me that nobody writes resumes in chronological order, unless it is for a specific job requirement to show continuity. She further told me that nobody cared that I had banking and financial experience over 20 years earlier because technology has changed that field so much that my skills were basically archaic. And above all, I had absolutely no skills listed on my resume. That piece of paper that I thought gave a great picture of my professional life was bordering on being  prehistoric! She gave me "homework" to look up the definition of a functional resume and to start reinventing myself sooner rather than later.

My professional told me that my resume said "retired" and not really wanting to be "rehired." At that point I was hoping that  somebody would hire me out of pity. But the problem was, those other unemployed professionals were wanting a little of that same pity.

So I went home and started the reinvention of  "me." I turned my lesson plans in to planning and scheduling experience. I turned my grades into timely record keeping. I called my frustrated phone calls to parents to tell them their kids were non-functioning into "proactive problem solving to ensure success." Who says teachers can't "do?"

As I was stressing out over all of this, I found myself migrating to the refrigerator way too often. So not only did my professional life need changing, I realized my personal health and goals that I set were off their collective functional trails. I quickly determined that I seriously needed to get back on all the right tracks.

I have resent out all my updated resumes to everybody I could think of. I have four days until my regular doctor appointment to lose some weight to show progress. I fully expect a scolding and a fairly large "fill" in my lap-band. I have had very little done since March because of all the other stuff going on, but I didn't overly stretch myself into maintaining restraint in my eating habits. Not good at all!

I am not functional, and I ain't too proud of that right now.

Well, necessity is the mother of invention, so maybe by this time next week, I will have made a turnaround.

Wish me luck!

Memories

I have been job hunting these past two week. I have realized that I am unable to live within my means and still keep those things around me to which I have become accustomed. I knew it was coming when my pay was cut in half after I retired. And I lasted longer than I thought I would, but it is all about to catch up with me. Hence, the job hunting.

Back in the old days, it was so easy. You went in, filled out an application, and if they liked the way you looked, you got an interview right then and there, often walking out with a job offer. Boy, how I wish those days were back!

Today, you email or fax your resume. If you are ambitious, you cross check the email address to see if they have a website, and then find them in the Yellow Pages to see what you can find out about the company. You list your resume and job requirements on job boards and services like Monster or Hot Jobs. And then you wait. Heaven forbid that you should walk into a company to introduce yourself to put a face to the resume you faxed. You wait and pray that somebody will call you for an interview.

So, while I have been doing my share of waiting, I decided to pull out a lot of our old family photos. We are having our first "cousins" reunion in several decades, and there ought to be a ton of us. One of our ambitious cousins is organizing it, and she wants to prepare a power point presentation with all of our pictures. I thought that would be easy and quickly completed.

But it wasn't and it is going to take some time. Why? Because each photo is a memory. A memory of the person, how you know him or her or what happened to cause that picture to be taken in the first place. Then your mind wanders to all that you remember about that person and the rest of the family. Which takes your mind to another memory, and you search your old photo books for the picture you remember seeing years before.

Another cousin was in Port Aransas vacationing with her family. Since it was just down the road from me, we made arrangements to visit. She had just recently lost both of her parents, so I decided to bring with me several of the older photos I had of her side of the family. And with each one we found ourselves telling the "remember when" story that the picture evoked. Her grown girls were enjoying seeing us as children, and what their grandparents looked like sixty years earlier. We could have stayed a lot longer laughing and wishing for those old days, but we consoled ourselves that we did have those memories.

Her youngest grandbaby has just turned two. He was having no part of me for the longest time. But he suddenly started saying "Nanny" to me. It dawned on his mother that I looked like his "Nanny" and he thought I might be her. He was making his own memories.

When my nephew was a baby, I would lie on the floor and put him on my chest, entertaining him for hours blowing bubbles and making fish faces at him. Several months often went by between visits, and after once such time lapse, a strange thing happened. When he saw me, he reached over from his grandmother's arms, babbled something, then promptly slapped me in the face. I was stunned! I had waited so long to become an aunt, and I was desperately trying to figure out what I had done to make him hate me so. I wanted to cry.

I was sitting on the floor, and he came crawling over to me, pulled himself up, smiling the entire time. And promptly hit me in the face again. Then IT hit me!  He had a memory. I made a fish face, blew a bubble, and he babbled and giggled at me all afternoon. I am happy to say that although he is a grown man, we still have a connection.

Sorry, Miss April, it may take me a while to get all these pics to you. Lots of stories behind them. Lots of pictures of those with us, and too many of those who are no longer here on Earth! Good times and bad. But all part of who I am.

So many memories, so little time.

OMG! I am one of the elder statesmen of our family. In thirty years, they will be searching for old photos of us old "geezers" and talking about the olden days!

I hope those memories will bring them pleasure and laughter.

To All the Fathers

One of my favorite pictures of my dad and me was actually taken not far from where I now live. It is one of us at the seawall, Daddy steadying me as I stand next to him on the wall. We both have on baseball caps, and it must have been winter because we both have on coats. Just like my dad, I have my hands in my jeans pockets.

My dad loved me, and although he treated me as a little lady most of the time, he was perfectly willing to let my tomboy side shine through. Being in the fire department, his shift work went from noon to noon the next day, so every third day he was not home in the evenings. He made sure he spent quality time with me, and later on my brother, to make up for that missing time.

Daddy loved to tease and play practical jokes. I guess that was the fireman coming out of him! But his teasing taught me a lot about life. Like, when and where it was okay to poke fun and when it was an absolute no-no. It was perfectly okay when we were playing board games that he would gloat when he was winning, and groan about how we were cheating when he was losing. We laughed a lot when we played a board game called Pollyanna and we captured his piece. His reactions were always pretty dramatic with lots of raucous laughing!

He taught me how to not smoke. I used to go around picking up his cigarette butts and pretend I was smoking just like him. He caught me once, and promptly told me that if I was going to smoke I had to do it "right" and showed me how to really puff ala "weed" style. I was sick very fast and for a long time. But it cured me for a lifetime.

One summer, Daddy came home from work and gathered my brother and me up for a trip to the museum. Mom was at work, and I thought how cool it was to go someplace with just him.

He would take us to the movies. Or when at the drive-in, he would let us sit outside on lawn chairs, with his speaker slightly turned so we could hear. He would play in the river with us, or take us skiing at the lake. He hated it, but he did it because he knew how much we loved it.

He would laugh when my best friend and I were singing loudly to the radio. His two favorites of ours was the way we sang "I Fought the Law and the Law Won" with gusto, and even occasionally sang with us when "Hang on Sloopy" blared across the radio. And my funniest memory came at the supper table one evening as we were eating supper. Dad was unusually quiet one evening, and finally about halfway through, he put down his fork and said "Okay, I wasn't snooping, I was putting something up, and I saw it. I tried seeing if it pulled out chin hairs, or if it straightened curls. But i just can't figure it out. What the heck is it?" He was pantomiming its movement. Mom and I cracked up. It turned out he discovered my eyelash curler!

My dad wasn't big on saying the words "I love you" because I don't think he heard it a lot when he was growing up. But he showed us how much he loved us by being there for us whether we needed him or not.

When I got older, I realized he loved to write little notes. I found them everywhere, each of them saying what he couldn't say out loud. I recently found a spiral notebook in which he had written all sorts of useless trivia, and things that were interesting to him, such has how to draw a perfect circle using arcs and degrees. Or his "ultimate chili recipe" which was revised and replaced several pages later and became known as "Earl's New Ultimate Chili Recipe!" And I still have the note that he wrote and stuck in one of my dresser drawers that simply stated "thank you for loving me."

I would like to take this time to say "Happy Father's Day" to all you dads out there. I wish I could say it one more time to mine here on Earth, but I can't.

I miss you, and I love you, Daddy.

Back on the Waiting List

I hate waiting. Hate waiting for something to hurry up and get here. Hate waiting for an expected phone call so that you can wait to have something fixed.  It seems as though I am eternally waiting.

It seemed like the day of my gallbladder surgery would never get here. Trying to be a good girl, I ate very lightly and pretty much stuck around the house. On the day of the surgery itself, I endured more waiting. Waiting to be called back to the day surgery area, waiting to be taken back to the OR waiting room. Waited to have a conversation with the anesthesiologist and surgeon. Then woke up to wait to see if I was going home or staying a night.

Unfortunately for me, it was three o'clock on a Friday afternoon, and the discharge nurses were not in a mood to do any waiting. Within an hour they wanted me up and out. I was okay with that until my sister went to get the car and I started throwing up. Even as I was encouraged to get into the wheelchair while still upchucking, they seemed determined to scurry me along. My poor sister was trying to figure out if she should come in to see what the delay was or sit and wait to see what comes next. After about five minutes, the nurses handed me a wet cloth and told me to take my little bowl with me, and they would be glad to help me get out to the car. So I decided not to wait any longer, and off we went. I got home easily enough but when I got out of the car, I was extremely glad to still have my little bowl and wash cloth.

I had very little pain, but a lot more soreness than with the lapband. I did have forty plus stones, but I can honestly say I don't have them any more! And no, I did NOT bring them home to sit on the mantle in a jar.

But the waiting game started up again. Waiting to feel strong enough to get out of the house. Waiting to drive so I could at least go to the mall or the grocery story. Waiting for all my bruises to fade.

 Waiting...waiting...waiting...

While I was waiting for the phone company to get here, I ate the rest of the sugar free ice cream. While waiting for my sister to get home each day after her training, I nibbled on whatever I could get my hands on.Today, I finally cheated a little and drove the mile down to the beach just to get out of the house. I thought about lunch as I watched the breakers. As my feet were getting wet walking along the shoreline, I was thinking that I can't wait to get some fish to eat.

Waiting can be a good thing or a bad thing. Good, if YOU can be "good" and not fall prey to bad habits out of frustration or boredom. But if you are an impatient human being as I often am, you treat your frustration and boredom as a legitimate reason to look for food to while away the time.

I go to the doctor next Tuesday. But I suspect that I must wait a little longer to get back on track with my weight loss. I have not had a fill in the band since March, and I am taking bets as to whether or not I get one next week. I am betting on a "no" since I just had the surgery.

My goal was to have under-grown my swimsuits by August. Tops are loose except around the waist. Bottoms, the same. If I wait much longer to get back on track, I will miss one of my goals that I really wanted to hit.

In the mean time, I am back on the waiting list for a job interview. I need one, but sure hope another opportunity doesn't pass me by while I am waiting for permission to drive in order to get to the interview.

I sure hope I can wait long enough to get back on some kind of normal track!

I really hate waiting around.

Mama's Got This Rolling Stone

What an eventful Spring this has been for me. Not at all what I envisioned. And things have transpired that have kept me off my true path of dietary changes.

You know part of it. Death, illnesses. Not to be unexpected when you turn sixty and become part of the "older" generation. I just didn't expect it so in-your-face- boom, boom, boom!

They say everything comes in threes. That is even the old Hollywood legend when actors pass on to the Great Stage in the Sky. My threes have been accomplished, and I would really, truly, enjoy a break from it all.

I lost my uncle in early March, one day before my good friend's mother died. In early May, his wife, Aunt Flo, passed unexpectedly. Two weeks later, my mother's remaining brother, Uncle Eddie, was finally released from his suffering and quietly went with his wife of almost fifty years holding his hand. It was good that he went to his new, healthy life in Heaven, but I will sure miss him. I will miss our conversations.

My illnesses have been spread in between all of this. Early April, a darn respiratory infection that just wouldn't go away. Late April, a colonoscopy. Be sure to get yours. The doctor found several precancerous polyps and removed them. Had I not gotten the hemorrhoids, I probably would have put off going to get one, and it might have caused some huge problems.

Since then, however, my daily gas output has increased ten-fold. I had been working on increasing the fiber, because aside from the polyps, she also found that I had developed diverticulosis. Fiber and lap-band surgery produces a fine line to cross over without problems, and I personally have to really pick my fiber carefully.

When I got what I thought a gas pain ( I have had them in the past when I ate crummy yet delicious foods) that lasted most of the evening and well into the early morning light, I knew I had to figure out what was going on. I even broke out the pain pills when it migrated around to the back. I desperately tried to figure out if this was a lap-band issue, so go see that doc, or if it was another problem, therefore my regular doc. Finally, I went to see my regular doctor because he was much closer.

He seemed to know what it was immediately, but he sent me to get an ultrasound to verify his suspicions. When he called and told me what the problem was, and to call my lap-band surgeon because I would probably need additional surgery, I didn't know whether to laugh from relief or cry because I had to go through this all again.

Well I am, after all, 4-F. Gallstones. And let me tell you sometimes they get in a really hurtin' mode.

Mama's got these rolling stones, wherever they stop, they cause such pain. And when they lodge, all you get is agony.

Okay, it doesn't rhyme but you get the point. Gallbladder's coming out this week.

Gee, is that gonna screw up my whole 4-F gig I got going on??

When the doctor was sharing the ultrasound report with me, one part of the report stated "excessive bowel bloating." When I questioned him about that, his reply was, "Well, you know you are 4-F!"

Then realizing what he said (he knew about my blog), he got the giggles. I thought he was going to have to leave the room to compose himself. It did relieve the tension and angst I was getting thinking about being cut on again.

I AM FLATULENT! I Got Gas! And believe me when I tell you it feels so good to let 'er rip!

Is that TMI??

What Gives You Comfort?

If you have been a regular reader of my blog, you probably remember that my Uncle Lester passed away a couple of months ago. I was deeply saddened when I found out last week that his wife, my Aunt Flossie, suddenly died. I suppose she was ready to go be with her husband and her brothers and sisters.

Aunt Flossie was known for her total devotion to her own family. Her kids, her grand kids, and now her great-grand kids were the center of her universe, and she lovingly made their world a better place for having been a part of it. I will miss her terribly.

Aunt Flossie was also known for two other things: her quilts and her German Chocolate Cake. Let me talk about the cake first. She made it from scratch. She used her own eggs, along with fresh butter and cream. It was an absolute given that in our family, her cake was the groom's cake. And she made a lot of them. And we were all disappointed when we went to a wedding and the cake wasn't sitting there on the table. That cake gave us comfort, and there was never a crumb left to freeze for the first anniversary.

Aunt Flossie also made quilts for the family. She would present them as wedding and baby gifts. I would always ask her when I would get mine, and she would always answer without hesitation "when you get married." And since I hadn't married, it had become a running joke between the two of us.

When Mom was so sick, she made her one. That quilt gave my mother great comfort. It was made by her sister, with loving hands, and became a symbol of their devotion to each other. It was that same quilt that gave me my only laugh when my mother died. After a few days had passed, I called to check on her, and I all but nanny-nanny-boo-booed her with the knowledge that I got my quilt after all! There isn't a time that I don't pull out that quilt and think of both of them. Now, it gives ME comfort.

My mistake when Mom was so sick was that I used food as my comforter. It didn't give me any, but it did leave its fat calories behind. And if I have learned anything about my eating habits on this journey it is the fact that I, for way too many years, was a stress eater. I finally figured it out this year, when several people that I knew and loved passed on. I didn't reach for the water, I reached for the cookies and the chips. No apples for me unless they were in a great big pie.

I also figured out that I must have been stressed for many years prior to my "aha" moment. And, now that I think back on it, I realize how complicated and stressful I made my life. Losses, moving to different towns, and breaking up with my long time boyfriend all helped add to my stress. I went into a career that often, especially in the beginning, gave me joy and comfort, but that over the years became increasingly stressful. Which led to more bad food choices until I slowly began to ruin my health.

It is so easy to see now. Why couldn't I see it then? One reason: because we only see what we want to see!

Food should be used to give your body nourishment. It is not meant, and has never been meant to be, your source of comfort. We all have our comfort foods. I am now visibly looking to what I turn to when I need comfort. And I am working hard to make work, exercise, and healthy food choices that which brings me comfort.

I was going to write a little more, but we are about to get our FIRST thunderstorm of the year and hopefully bring us some much-needed rain!

Come on down, Rain. Bring this land some comfort. I am thinking that taking a nap while it rains sounds quite comforting to me!

How Many Aggies Does It Take?

I love my niece. I really do. But when she called me last February with a simple request, I had to really search my mind to the time I said, "You need anything, give me a call."

The simple request was if I would mind  if she brought a few of her friends with her for a short visit. Having told her long ago to feel free to bring some with her for a beach visit, I was thinking three, maybe four girls. So I said sure bring 'em and come on down. That was when the bomb dropped.

"Aunt Cindy, we need a place to stay for the Texas Adopt-a-Beach cleanup weekend."

"Okay, that's not a problem." I was thinking maybe eight to ten.

"Well, here's the deal. It will be around sixteen, but I PROMISE it won't be more than twenty."

I started thinking about where they would all go. I have three bedrooms, but one of them I use as a very small study. Where would they all sleep? And food? I knew as teenagers that they could really fork it down. But college kids? And I didn't even want to think about the water bill. But because I love my niece, I said yes.

I borrowed air mattresses, pushed all the furniture to the side, made quilt pallets, and went to the grocery store. I patiently waited the days out until their arrival. I began to think it might be a little fun once I got over my shock of seeing that many kids all over the floor.

The drive from College Station to Corpus Christi is about six hours in length. I knew they weren't leaving until the end of classes around five in the evening. Knowing it would be late, I decided to calm myself watching Game 6 of the Spurs-Grizzlies series. Well Ha Ha on me.

The worse the score for the Spurs, the later it got. Finally, during a time out after one of their few leads, my niece called to tell me they had taken an inadvertent detour and would be just a little later than first thought.
The game wore on, as did my nerves, both as a Spurs fan and a worried aunt as to when they would get here. By the end of the game I was ready to uncork the wine and dig into the tortilla chips. I didn't find the wine, but I did find the chips, which I thought tasted much better with a little hot sauce.

The kids arrive around 12:30 that night. Knowing they would be tired, and knowing we would all be up very early in the morning, I figured they would settle down pretty quickly. They all staked out their spots, and began to what I call "setting up their camp" area. I found a chair to watch, stunned at the fact they brought their own food, mattresses and towels. They all began to fall onto their beds once they each got their turn in the bathroom. I retreated into my little domain with my niece. Sometime around 2:00 the house got very quiet.

The next morning, after they left for the cleanup, I sat down for a much needed cup of coffee and the morning paper. When it became time for them to finish up the cleanup, I started getting out the food to have lunch ready for when they got back.

That's when I took a good look at what they brought. And at what I bought.

They brought fresh fruit, whole grain cereals with low-fat or fat free milk. Fruit bars, granola bars. They did bring some pop tarts. They were still kids, after all. They didn't bring anything to drink except water.

Me? I bought potato and tortilla chips. I bought sodas and cookies. I opted for flour tortillas for the breakfast tacos mixture I cooked up using spicy sausage.  I got hot dogs for lunch. No turkey dogs for me; I had to have all beef dogs! Did I mention the cookies? They were opened by ME not by them.

It was good to see that today's youth were eating more healthy than I did at their age. And while they did consume the tacos, hot dogs, and most of the cookies, they also snacked on the fresh fruit and ate very few chips. Their one concession to total unhealthy was sodas. Good to know some things will never change!

As I got to talk and visit with them, I started to see a much brighter future for our country and our planet. They were serious about the meaning and purpose of their club. They were smart, articulate, and extremely polite. Thinking they were not that much older than the kids I taught, it gave me hope that once they got to college, their maturity and unselfish thinking of others would grow by leaps and bounds. Maybe there is hope for the older generation, the greatest generation, that they will be leaving our world in very capable hands. Not only will the Earth be healthier, so will they. They are learning for our mistakes, and are determined to move forward with better, smarter decisions.

Their club is called EPIC. It stands for Environmental Programs Involvement Committee. Their members are all part of the Environmental Programs at Texas A & M College Station. And it took just sixteen Aggies to clean up over a mile of dirty beach along the barrier island of St. Jo's.

The EPIC club is awesome. But the Aggies that make up the club will be EPIC adults. I hope I live long enough to experience their contributions to society.

So hey, you EPIC kids. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Free Gas

OK, folks, I give you fair warning up front. This one ain't gonna come out smelling like roses.

I keep wondering who is getting rich off of the current gas prices. I am thinking that the majority of us are going broke just trying to keep a half a tank. And since hurricane season is right around the corner, it is pretty much an extremely good idea to make that a habit in case of last minute evacuations. And that makes for this coming summer to be very, very, expensive.

As we look for alternatives to gas guzzling cars, we are all beginning to realize that those so-called solutions are priced way out of reach for most people, and impossible to attain on a retired salary. I think I have a solution, but I am totally unable to figure out how to make it work.

You see, those cows are on to something. They eat an awful lot of green leafy things. And they produce an awful lot of gas. So we need to figure out how to harness all that gas and put it into our gas tanks. And since we should not depend on just one solution/aspect of alternative fuels, I think this is where I can help. After all, I am a full fledged member of the 4-F club!

I eat green leafy things. I get gas. Why can't we figure out how to put it to good use? It is already useful as bathroom humor.  Let's get creative and devise a plan to convert it into a usable fuel source. Think about it. It is plentiful. It is certainly a renewable resource, and it costs very little to produce. I should know, I now consider myself a walking fuel rod for gas.

I do not know why it has gotten so bad, but it is a good thing that I am alone most of the time in the house. And that I have lots of windows...

It happens so frequently the last few weeks that I make sure that when I drop something in a class in which I am substituting, I plead old age as to the reason why they have to help and pick it up for me. Because, if I bend over, the conversation in the younger classes will be something along this line:

"Toooot."

"Miss! Miss! You just farted!" Lots of giggling.

"No, it wasn't me, Susie. Jimmy was it you?"

Whereupon, several students simultaneously yell, "No, Miss, it was YOU!" Hilarious laughing.

Being a dignified person, I straighten my shoulders and explain that flatulence is a natural process, yadda, yadda, and that you ALL do it, and many of you do it all night long, yadda, yadda, and it happens because, yadda, yadda, yadda. You get the idea. Circle the wagons and divert the attention by using big words that they don't understand, then remind them that it is math time and please get out your pencils.

In high school, you just get a "wasn't me" comment as work just continues. But it is an invitation to a slow death by embarrassment if you toot in a middle school classroom. Because they will ALWAYS comment on the smell and what you possibly ate to give that particular odour du jour.

I am at that stage in my financial life, that if I am going to do it, I had better enjoy it or make money off it. So come on, people, let's get with the program, here! We are Americans! We can solve this problem and find a way to make it profitable.

I am 4-F and my gas is free. Come and get it!

Get Your Energy Boosts

This past weekend was the free Air Show at the Naval Air Station here in town. We were lucky to have the famed Blue Angels come to town and bring their precise flying abilities for all of us to see. Fun times! I can hardly imagine what it takes for the pilots to keep up their strength. It must really zap them at times if they have not fueled up thier bodies the right way to take all the "g's" thrown their way as they are flying upside down, wing tip to wing tip. And those loop-the-loops? No wonder they all look so good in their uniforms! The Navy does it right!

One of the big, and I mean that literally as well as figuratively, draws in the show is the support carrier for the Blue Angels and their maintenance crew. The support personnel and equipment are toted around the country and the world in one of those big Hercules aircrafts, fondly referred to as "Fat Albert."

Fat Albert is a humongous piece of metal that makes you wonder if it could ever get off the ground high enough to be considered as "flying." Indeed, in order to get enough speed to lift its heavy load, the runways need to be as long as some of the test grounds in Desert Sands! Normal jet runways are not nearly long enough.

So how do they do it? They get an energy boost. They have, I think, four extra fuel boosters attached to the plane that when ignited, acts just like a dragster. They get going pretty fast and make a steep takeoff, allowing them to quickly get out of the area (in case of enemy fire) and back to safe air space.

As they were demonstrating their takeoffs, I thought about the energy boosts we all need, some of us more often than others. When you are overweight, you look for the quick fix of energy, mostly in all the wrong places. The Snickers bar to go with your Coke. The extra piece of pizza because you want just one more bite. These things may be good, but are definitely not good for you.

As you lose weight after your lap-band, it is especially important to opt for the right kind of energy boosters. At the beginning, it is critical that you drink your protein drinks, as it not only gives you energy but also helps to build lean muscles. As you progress and begin experimenting with what you can eat, you really need to watch your quick fixes. If it goes down easily the first time, it is very easy to reach for it a second time, heading you back into the same old habits you had before your surgery.

I know I need to look elsewhere for my energy boosts. Fresh fruits and vegetables and lean meat protein is best for me. I also sometimes forget the importance of plain water and how it helps fuel your entire body.

 But I have also noticed something else that gives me energy. Feeling useful.

As I get more active because it is easier to move, I am finding out that while I love the freedom of retirement, it makes me inactive without a goal. Going back to work part time has made me feel like I am being productive again, and that gives me mental energy. Mental energy fuels my physical energy, along with smart food choices, which makes me want to be more active. That connected circle thing again.

So, just like Fat Albert and the pilots flying those jets, I need my energy boosts. I may get it from the food I eat, the work that I am doing, or it may even come from just standing still and silent and taking in all of God's wonders around me. I think those are the best one!

Get your body boosts, stay busy. But don't forget to take time for yourself. Stop and smell the roses or the fresh sea air. It will invigorate your soul.

It's Contagious!

I love kids. I really do. But sometimes when you are subbing, 22 all at once is a little much. ESPECIALLY when they are preK kids. Sweet, but very germy. They can't help themselves, but darn, it took me one trip to their classroom and 3 days until I got their germs. All they want to do is hug and be hugged. Germ City! And every one of them itty bitty germs were willing to pass themselves off to new victims. God Bless the Teachers of the World. They really need good health care!

There are lots of contagious things out there. We know about them. Measles, chicken pox, colds, flu. But as I sat in my lounger thinking about how miserable I was feeling, it occurred to me that it doesn't have to be a physical germ that creeps into you for you to be "contagious."

Negative thoughts are contagious. One bad thought often begets another bad one. Negative people seem to attract other less than positive people to hang out with. If you believe you cannot do something, then chances are much better than 50-50 that you won't be able to do it.

I say let's turn that around. We have enough negatives that we cannot always control. We can't immediately do anything about our negative political or market climate. We can't change the minds of people by willing it to happen. But we CAN and SHOULD change our reactions to that which is negative around us.

Did you happen to see the "twins talking" that hit the news last week? Their enthusiasm is contagious. The baby that won't stop laughing and giggling? If you don't laugh at that, you need to seriously think about the way your life is heading. Even the laughing gulls that perch on my light post every morning and who laugh at me with their awful cackle every time I bend over to get the paper, they more often than not make me laugh right back.

I was at a book signing the other day at our First Friday Art Walk in downtown Corpus Christi. I not only got to sell some books, but I got to meet and greet a lot of interesting people and listen to some great music. What I realized was that all those people were there because they chose to be, and that made them happy. And their happiness made it easy to talk to them. It was contagious. And the more confidence I got, the more books I actually sold. It was with confidence that I looked for and found something personal to write in each of their newly purchased books, and each one blew my "ego" balloon up just a little more.

I noticed something else. I had sold a book to a friend of a friend in December. She was there with several of her friends that night. I caught a side conversation about a "really good book." Thinking that I might have an easy sell, I turned around to entice them over my way, only to realize it was the lady who had bought mine in December, and she was telling them about MY very book. I was stunned. She told me that she had been passing it around to all her friends, and that they all had positive things to say about it. One of her friends stopped back by toward the end of the evening and began to talk to me about the book. Her compliments grew, and because I realized they were not empty compliments, I began to more easily accept them into my thinking and even into my soul.

I was very timid about posting pics of me online, never having learned to like the way I looked on film. But the compliments I received about the progress I had made in weight loss were genuine. I had to accept them at face value for what they were...recognition of a job well done. Why is that so hard for so many of us?

So, my fellow weight lossers (notice I didn't say losers!), take those compliments. Turn them into positive experiences for you, and run with joy for how good it makes you feel. I am working very hard to make that my new mantra.

And even if you didn't mean that compliment, I take joy in the fact that I made you look!

Unwanted Roots

Spring has finally decided to come to the Island. Plants that were ice covered in February are now sprouting new growth. Even those I was afraid had died during our version of a "deep freeze" are showing sings of life again. For those of  you that live in the north and east, and are still getting snow, I am sorry. I don't know how you keep your plants from year to year. They must be very hardy and have sturdy roots!

Everybody knows that spring is cleaning season. Right?! Well, I had actually started before spring by cleaning out my closet, but decided with the warm sunshine, today would be a good day to finish trimming all my dead growth outside. Yards, just like hair and nails, occasionally need a good "do over," and my landscaping was no exception.

I just recently bought some new work gloves, so I pulled off the sales tags and grabbed the shovel and spade. I had decided that my first job would be to dig up the old agave plants. And, just like many things that I start, it turned out to be a lot more than I bargained for.

For those not familiar with these arid plants, agaves are sometimes known as "century plants." The lore is that they bloom once every few decades then die off. The produce a 5 -6 foot woody stalk right out of the middle of the plant and produces spikes of blossoms. In reality, they actually bloom every 5-7 years, and even though the part of the plant that produces the stalk dies off, it starts new growth. You can take the "baby" sprouts and replant them to start all over again.

In fact, that was actually how I got them to begin with. My neighbor gave me some, and since I had very little landscaping at the time, I planted them in my front yard five years ago. And, right on schedule, all four of them produced a stalk. When they finally flowered, the honeybees came. And stayed. So I let them stay up a little longer than probably necessary. Then it froze and they really died a quick death.

I tried to dig them up, but I couldn't get under the rocks and matting to get a good hold. I tried to push them over. Stubborn things. On and on it went until finally the yard guys stopped by. Once the two hunky guys got one out of the ground, I realized the problem. Its root system, very shallow to take advantage of sparse surface water, spread out from the main plant some 3 - 4 feet. Not deep, but lots of them, in long strands. By myself, I am not sure I could have gotten them out.

I have unwanted roots in my daily habits. Things that should be easy to break, but I have let them grow for so long that their root systems take advantage of every weakness I have. I try to pull them out, cut them away, but they keep sprouting up. This week my worst habit has been remembering to eat smaller portions. I do, but I don't remember to STOP going back for more. I believe it is called "grazing" for your food. And, just as my century plants, I need help to get rid of those unwanted roots.

When I have them in my hair, I go to my hair stylist. But being single, no one is here to slap my hand and tell me no. So, support group, I need you to help me pull out my unwanted roots. Send me a reminder once in a while to eat only small portions, and only one portion at a time.

I am currently stuck this week between 262 - 263 pounds. I know it will go down when I am finally able to sustain my bike riding or get into the pool for exercises next month. But I got used to losing weight more quickly, and now I must work harder to get that extra pound off. HELP!!! Please keep encouraging me.

Here are the latest pictures:

      Oh, one other thing. Agave is used to make tequila. No wonder the bees were happy. And I am 3-F!

Trial and Error

One of my favorite education professors at my alma mater, The University of Texas at San Antonio, taught me a lot about great science practices for the classroom. And the biggest lesson that stuck with me is "trial and error is okay" as a teacher, as a student, and in your personal life.

We use trial and error all the time. If you go to a dressing room, you bring several different sizes, colors, and styles to find the right outfit. Trial and Error.

If you are looking for airline tickets, trial and error is used a lot to find the cheapest flight with the fewest travel hassles. Sometimes you hit it; sometimes you think to yourself to never try that again.

Ever stick your toes in the pool or the ocean to see how cold the water is? Trial and Error.

You have probably already figured this out, but I have been in a trial and error mode since my lap-band surgery. At first it was to test how much you could eat without getting nauseated or feeling over-full. Then, as you healed, you experimented with different types of solid food.

I clearly remember when I ran my first test to see what I could tolerate. I had company about a month ago, and because the purpose of their visit wasn't for pleasure, we had a lot of those stress-eating foods out in plain sight all over the counter tops in the kitchen. Even though I was still technically on a soft diet, that darn tortilla chip was screaming my name. So when no one was looking, I took one and popped it in my mouth. Then feeling that it might have been a serious error, I chewed the heck out of it. Pulverized it. But it was so good, and it felt good mentally that I could still have an occasional indulgence.

I went to the doctor today for my second month checkup. I was a little worried since I had only lost four pounds this month. I told myself it was to be expected since I had truly been experimenting with different meats and vegetables to see which ones I could eat. I knew that once I started eating nothing but solids that the weight loss would slow down. I had also had a change in my blood pressure medicine due to changes in the insurance coverage and had been retaining a little more fluid than normal. I went into his office waiting for the "lecture" to come about my eating habits.

He wasn't worried. He stated that it was to be expected since I wasn't able to run every day and couldn't ride my bike as much because of my other itty bitty problem. And he reassured me that it was normal that I worried about how much I ate until I figured out what my new normal was going to be. We discussed the importance of healthy foods and continued awareness of portion control. And then he gave me another fill into the band. It was like, okay if you don't do it on your own, I am gonna make it harder for you by squeezing your stomach some more.

I have started back to subbing in the classroom so I do think about eating during those days. I try to pick healthy foods for my lunch bag. The doctor reminded me that one of the better things to stick in it was the high protein drinks. They fill you up with the good stuff.

My trial and error will continue. My weight today was 264, and while I didn't meet my goal of eight to ten pounds a month, I am still heading downward in the right direction.

And my 4-F "aha" moment? After I got my fill, the doctor looked at me and said, "Your pants are a little loose. Have they always been like that? Or is this something new?"

I guess my grin told him the answer to that!

Facing Your Dilemmas

Here it is, Spring Break on the Island, and I have dilemmas. I shouldn't have...spring break is to enjoy the sun and have fun with friends. Except they all either went out of town or are working. So what do you do?

I thought about razzing my friend about being so technically challenged that she can't even hang on to her phone, or how her daughter had to show her how to listen to her voicemail on her smart phone, or that she has a failing memory about techno things, but I didn't. My dilemma was that she was born that way and can't help herself. I was also reminded that she would find a way to pay me back, in spades! She may be a true southern lady, but she can "venge" with the best of them and enjoy every moment. So Deb, you are safe - for now!

I thought about going to visit my family out of town, but they were either all sick or so far away I couldn't afford the gasoline costs. Another dilemma.

Then I thought that I might use this time off from substituting to find a full time job, but I was reminded of still another dilemma. What new company would want to give me the time off if it turns out I do actually need the additional surgery I am halfway anticipating, or give me the time off each month to follow up on my lap-band progress.

Sooo, I did what I have been wanting to do for a long time. Tackle my closet. It has been full of dilemmas for several years.You see, it talked me into saving all my too-small clothes. I told my sister-in-law that I had all my clothes in one spot, and in several sizes and colors. I am not, as she suspects, a clothes horse. I simply convinced myself that sooner or later I would lose the weight and be able to get back into some of them. Of course, some of them are woefully out of date, but hey, if she thinks MY closet is over full, she better not look into Martha's....

I went through every closet and drawer. Everything that was too big (and I am happy to report there was an awful lot of that!) and all winter things that fit me now but wouldn't next winter were merrily thrown onto my bed. Then came another one of those dilemmas: what do I do with it all?

I sorted into business versus casual stuff, then sorted in to good, fair, and rag bin. That took a while. I even called a couple of women's organizations to see if they wanted any of the business clothing to help out women who are starting over and going back to work. But they didn't, instead preferring to give out Goodwill vouchers. Dilemma solved. Everything went into bags to take to Goodwill tomorrow. I had already sorted out and downsized my purse collection, and shoes will be next. I have to admit it was invigorating to see the pile. Of course, I will now have to continue working to buy new ones!

We face dilemmas every day. Some are big, most not very important. Do I wear this or that? Should I pay this bill today or wait til next week? Eat this or that? Can I afford just one more bite? Will that one piece of cake hurt that much? How can I get my book out to a bigger audience and into bookstores? Little things. Sometimes those pesky dilemmas can be more fretful. Do I leave my family and friends behind to take that new job out of state? Who is going to care for my aging family? How can I make ends meet when the bills just keep piling up?

Imagine the dilemmas the good people of Japan face. Where do I go? Where can I get food? Is my son, or my daughter, or my mother still alive? What do I do now? Who is here to help me? Am I far enough away? Will this shaking and fear ever stop?

It makes my drop-in-the-bucket dilemmas seem petty.

If I have learned one thing in my 60 years, is that sooner or later God provides you with either the means  or the path to take. Life, just like eating habits, are all about choices. Don't turn them into dilemmas; make them opportunities.

And let Him help you make the choices clear. You will be all right, and much happier without the worry.

Have a good week!

Causes and their Nasty Effects

Sorry I haven't written this earlier, but I rejoined the ranks of the working this month. Okay, it is only part time, and it IS substitute teaching, so I get to pick and choose the times and the places. The most difficult part was trying to figure out what that awful clanging was. Turns out it was my alarm clock. And, since I got a new one after I retired, I had to relearn where the snooze button was so I could hit it without exerting too much effort.

I did my first really bad lap-band thing the other day. A friend had a birthday celebration luncheon, complete with cake. I decided to make that the first piece of beef I had had in a very long time that wasn't ground hamburger. I ate sensibly, taking most of it home, and only eating about a third of the piece of cake. I felt pretty good. It was when I decided to eat the rest for supper that I realized my mistake.

Well, I ain't  4-F for nuthin! I got gas. A LOT of gas that seemed to concentrate on my upper right side. Now the only thing around there was my gall bladder, so I suppose it was doing most of the protesting.
Throwing up is a no-no with lap-band, but I honestly wished I could have gotten rid of it, as I just knew it would immediately make me feel better.

I tried everything. Exercise, pushing on it, walking, hot showers. I wanted to cry. Nothing I did would make me comfortable.

So Lesson for the Day:  If you eat big or richly at one meal, you better not do it again on the same day. Better yet, don't even think about eating that heavy piece of red meat. Now being a long time Texas girl, giving up steak and baked potatoes has been as difficult as giving up the cokes! I truly thought I could handle a few bites. Not yet!

But I did eat an enchilada the other day. Almost makes up for the lack of a rib-eye.

Another thing that I have noticed about cause and effect, is that once you start feeling better from losing weight and thinking in healthier terms, you begin to notice all the little things you tended to ignore in the past. Fix this little issue, another crops up. So, you deal with that one, and up pops another. More annoyances than major medical issues, but if you let them go on too long, you have even bigger problems. I can't help but wonder if I would have had them had I not gotten so fat. Or are they becoming noticeable because I am getting older? Egads!

So here's my advice for the day. Take care of the little things concerning your body. Don't sweat the fact that you have them, just go "git 'er done!" And as you get healthier, they become fewer, and their side effects become less "painful." And that, my friends, is ALWAYS a good thing.

Spring break is coming to the island. Time for all of us "natives" or Island Monkeys as we are known, to stock up on the essentials, grab a few of the cold ones for emergencies, and hunker down in your backyard, because you won't be able to get to the beach and still keep your sanity. It's a Cause and Effect Thing!

Stay safe, and think healthy.

Praise and Atta-boys

What a difference a few days makes. The weather is warming down here, the sun is shining, wind is dying down, and it feels good to get out into the sunshine and feel it's warmth on your skin - with SPF 15, of course!

I am happy to report that the two creams are making my "proud skin" feel a little more humble. I have to say that the nitroglycerin cream prescribed did provide some interesting side effects and quite a few not-so-funny "exploding butt" jokes. But, hey - it's working so I can live with the jibes. And I will even admit that now that I feel better, some of them are pretty funny.

I went to my second support group meeting last night. The topic was setting goals and recognizing and hopefully ridding yourself of the barriers to reaching your goals. I managed to keep from doing the teacher snicker as everybody tried to come up with their measurable, achievable goals. (We educators have been writing them for years!) But then I realized I hadn't written anything down on my own paper.

Most of the people are a year or more out of their lapband surgery. Only one other person was a "short timer" like me. So their goals were more specific in many ways. Our group leader, Emmy, and her intern led a great discussion on goals and problems attaining them. They asked us to write a one month, six month, and one year goal. I realized i needed to get busy thinking what i wanted.

I knew my one year goal, but had to think on the others. Here is what I came up with:

1 Month - ride my exercise bike at a high energy level for at least 10 minutes, 3 times a week.

6 Months - Be around 240 so that ALL my old swimsuits can be tossed because they are too big.

1 Year - Be off of my blood pressure and cholesterol medicines FOREVER because I have established habits that will keep me on a healthy lifestyle.

And that, my online support group, is where YOU come in!

We all need a little nudge once in a while. And we don't mind them; in reality, we probably secretly appreciate them. But, we all need a little recognition that we are on the right track. A little praise and an occasional ATTA-BOY goes a very long way in making you feel good about yourself.

One of the things I recognize about myself is that it is extremely hard to accept praise. I always feel like I am being recognized for doing something that had to be done. I don't always recognize it for what it is - recognition for achieving something that other people saw as a good thing and were genuinely proud of me for doing it.

Recognition doesn't have to be loud or gregarious. A high-five is a fine atta-boy. A grin at the right time says a lot. An OK sign works just as well as a chest pounding, fist raised dance. And it secretly makes you feel good. And when you feel good about yourself, you tend to make even better decisions!

I wrote a poem the other day, and it was published in our local island paper. I was secretly proud of myself. But, what made my day was what happened at the drive-thru window at our local CVS Pharmacy. The pharmacist herself came to the window and told me she had a couple of questions. I had a medicine change so I assumed it was about that. Nope! I got an ATTA-BOY!

She said to me, "Was that your poem I read this morning in the paper? It was so beautiful it almost made me cry. I had to read it three times!" I don't remember what she asked after that; I was too busy grinning from ear-to-ear.

We all gave each other praise and support at our group meeting. We all knew we wanted the same thing. It was a productive meeting. AND, I got home in time to watch "V."

Ok, I really don't think that lizard Anna deserves any praise or atta-boys. I don't look at geckos the same anymore.

ATTA-BOY FIFTH COLUMN!

The Proud Skin

What an eventful week I have had. Weird, but eventful, and chock full of new information! Let me warn you in advance, this one won't be pretty....

Okay, first, as promised here is a full lenth picture of me taken in early February. Weight was 270.

I went to the doctor for my first month checkup. I was, according to him, right on track. I was a little worried since I didn't feel I had eaten correctly during the previous two weeks. I was surprised to learn that he wasn't worried, since I had actually lost eight pounds since my last visit a week  after  my surgery. Ok, that was good for me!  I was also surprised as to how little saline I actually had in my band. He had kept it a small amount to let my hernia repair heal. The average first fill is about 4cc's, and I only had 1.8cc's. And, I had still lost weight! Yea! He did put in an additional 2cc's in the band, since I told him that I felt I was eating too much. The fill itself was painless. A little numbing cream, a little squirt and you are done! That was the good part!

Now for the not so good part... I should forewarn you that I am now officially the butt of all the jokes. Do you get where this might be going??

When you drastically change your diet, as I did both before and after  the surgery,   your colon undergoes some dramatic change, specifically in your bowel movements. 

I need to preface this by saying  I hardly ever get constipated. But, not putting in a lot of food equates to not putting out a lot of poop. And I had been living with the old way so long I never worried about it. Junk food in, easy poop out. NOT ANY MORE!!!

One of the other problems that got aggravated were my hemmoroids and the chronic fissure in the anus area. I hate that I am explaining this, but I did promise honesty, good and bad. Well, the hemmoroids and the fissure kept getting worse and more painful. So much so, that for the first time since the surgery, I considered taking pain medication. Having had enough, I decided to ask the doctor to take a look. He laughed and told me it must be hemmoroid week, because lots of people were complaining about them. I didn't care; I just wanted relief!                

After taking a look, I indeed have a pretty severe inflammation. But he didn't call it that. No, he said that I had PROUD SKIN. I thought about that for a second or two and explained to him that I wasn't particularly proud of it right about now. Once we all quit laughing, he told me that the skin around the opening was swollen (I suppose puffed up and proud looking!) from having the chronic problem. Then he hit me with the bad news.

He referred me back to my primary care physician, and that he would probably refer me to a colorectal surgeon. Which is exactly what he did. Can you say Pain in the Ass?????

I am now desperately trying everything I can to keep from going to the hospital for another surgery. Grandma's prune remedy, lots of creams; I am still unable to eat a lot of high fiber stuff, so gotta find some alternatives. But the bottom line is that it may get better, but it will continue to get worse with each bout and will almost assuredly need some type of surgical repair. I think I may start drinking again!

So there is my Confession; here is my 4-F advice: Don't get constipated, drink a lot of water, and eat your fiber. Because a sore butt is not funny, and the end results are not something to look forward to. And the only thing you have to look forward to is getting the revenge on all your friends who are making jokes at your expense.

Yes, I am taking names, and plotting my revenge. Right after I go eat my prunes!

It's hell getting old!