Day 79 - I Don't, I Don't, I Don't

Great news today from researchers on the subject of weight loss - not a new wonder diet, not new news on weight loss inducing food, nope this time, they say it's all about words.
The experts issued a report today that showed that you could lose up to 15% more weight by simply choosing the correct response, just 2 little words that supposedly will make a big difference. When being offered those extra delicious double frosted, caramel filled double chocolate cream cheese cupcakes,  instead of saying, "Thanks, but I can't, you should reply, thanks, but I don't".
Apparently if you slip and say, I can't, it is indicative of self-deprivation, and supposedly can lead to eating more. However, if you say, "Thanks, but I don't," this leaves the dieter with self confidence as it infers the choice was yours, not forced upon you by the diet.
As hubby and I continue to try to cut down, and the weight seems to be coming off in ounces, I think we will embrace this new research. We will practice saying, I don't, when offered that yummy piece of cake, or that perfectly chilled glass of white wine or that dish full of Cadbury eggs that only make an appearance at this time of year. Maybe if we practice enough, we will actually believe it. Somehow, I can't picture myself convincingly saying I don't to any adult beverage, especially those that are perfectly chilled and served in stemware. I'll practice double against the eggs, I swear.

Day - 78 My Time is Valuable, Ergo - I'm Rude

I was in a department store today, and when I was all set with my purchases and ready to leave, it seemed that everyone else in the store decided to check out at exactly the same time. Although this particular store has 14 registers, only 4 were open, the lines were about 6 deep. Everyone understood the drill, stand in line, wait your turn and hope somebody in management notices and opens more registers. Everyone got it, except for one woman, who very loudly started to carp about the fact that she was standing in line, while more registers should be opened. Don't you know, her time was valuable, she was there on her lunch hour, why don't they open more registers? From the time I was standing there, it possibly could have taken 3 minutes for additional cashiers to get to the front and open registers. When the first new check out line was opened, this rude broad, elbowed the elderly woman in front of her out of her way and made damn sure she was the first person in the newly opened check-out, still bellowing about how much time she had wasted having been made to wait in line.
No one said anything. Me included, except I did ask the woman who had been elbowed out of the way if she was OK. When did it become socially acceptable to be rude? And when did we all decide to just tolerate it?  That nasty woman should have been ashamed of herself. But I don't think shame plays a big part in our world anymore. There was a time when how you conducted yourself in public not only reflected on yourself but also your entire family. I don't think that happens much anymore. One theory may be that we all have been inundated by stories of road rage, and the person who simply loses it, so we assume that it is better to let things be, keep ourselves safe. In doing so, we have allowed the rude people of the world free reign. I often wonder how miserable these people must be with themselves, if such inconsequential things as a line in a department store puts them in an outrage. So sad.

Day - 77 - No Ifs, Ands or Butts About It

Above woman in custody for self surgery & injecting women with industrial silicone

I firmly believe that everyone has a right to do whatever they want to with their own bodies. If anyone wants to tattoo their neck, butt or other private places, fine by me. If someone wants to increase the size of particular body parts who am I to say that it is wrong?  And if someone feels wonderful after having a face lift that makes them look like a deer in headlights, so be it. But when women show up at a hotel, with $2,000 in hand to attend what is being called a pumping party, I begin to question their mindset. Apparently, in Philadelphia there is a woman, not a doctor, not a nurse, not a medical person of any kind, a woman who has absolutely no credentials whatsoever, who for $2,000, will inject your glutimous maximus with (1) silicone or (2) super glue or (3)some other unknown substance in hopes of  creating the ideal derriere, a butt lift so to speak. I don't know about you, but before I let someone pump me full of some unknown fluid, I think I would ask about their credentials. And I think that I would be smart enough to question the broad when she was filling the  hypodermic needle from a tube of super glue .
One woman actually died from this procedure, and another was hospitalized but thankfully will pull through. But I have to question the mindset of these women for even going to the hotel for a butt lift in the first place. What were they thinking?
At my age, everything is not where it once was, I blame gravity for that. So truthfully, I probably would be considered a prime candidate for a butt lift. Not going to happen. But let's say I did want to have a butt like J-Lo, somehow I don't think my 1st option would be to participate in a pumping party at my local Holiday Inn. I think I am going to keep what I have, it's all behind me anyways, so for the most part I can ignore it!

Day - 76 Don't You Just Love a Good Smell?

Smells. There are some that just bring you back to when you were a kid. Just like some songs can bring memories floating back, I think smells do the same thing.
Clean sheets that have been dried outside brings me right back to childhood. There was nothing better as a kid than climbing into a bed newly made with clean sheets.
English Leather cologne for men brings me right back to my high school days, and to this day, whether it's a good looking dude or some derelict on the street, if he is wearing English Leather, I stop, I look, and I sniff.
Whenever I cook turnips, the smell brings me right back to my Grandmother's flat and Sunday dinners where turnips were a staple. The same goes for Cashmere Bouquet talcum powder, when I get a sniff of that, it totally reminds me of my Nana.
I remember the smell of the house whenever my mother was cooking a roast pork. There was a wonderful smell that permeated the entire house, and I could hardly wait for that dinner as she would cook potatoes in the drippings of the pork roast, something I really loved. I have tried to replicate it, but alas, to no avail. Maybe today's pork roasts are different. I don't want to admit that it just might be my cooking skills.
I find it amazing that certain smells can take one back in time, but they do. Whenever I enter a bakery, I think about the one that we shopped in Jamaica Plain, I'm pretty sure that what I am remembering is the smell of bread baking, but tons of memories come flooding back. I know as a kid  my mom would only go there when it was her night to be the hostess of her "club". She overbought so there were always bakery yummies to be had the next morning, along with the non-pareils that were never fully eaten, same goes for something known as Bridge Mix, which I loved as a kid.
I baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies today, and the smell in my kitchen brought me right back to when we first bought this house, and I made every cookie my kids would eat. Not that I was trying to be super mom, I just happened to have 2 kids who were allergic to milk, so it was easier for me to bake their treats than worry about them getting something they shouldn't.
Time has a way of flying by, I like the way smells kind of slow things down and force you to go down memory lane. A great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

The Supreme Court  of the United States has a case before it that is of great interest to me. In a nutshell, the court needs  to decide if 14 year olds should be held accountable for murder. It is a difficult decision. Child psychologists say that the brains of 14 year olds are just developing, and they stress that they truly don't understand what they are doing.
And part of me empathizes with the mothers of the murderers, and if it were my child I would not want to see them imprisoned for life.
But what if you were the mother of the murdered child/man? How would you feel then? I had a nephew, father of two, who was working at his second job,at a gas station / convenience store when 3 underage thugs decided to rob the store. They shot and killed him for a grand total of $46 and as many cartons of cigarettes as they could physically carry away seeing as none of them were old enough to have a driver's license, so therefore, no get away car. All were  well under the age of 17, all knew or thought they knew, at the time that they could not be tried as adults, thinking if they were caught, the most that would happen to them was that they would be sent to what is known as "Juvey". Fortunately, the law had been changed earlier that year, and these 3 are now serving life sentences in Florida for brutally murdering my nephew.  My nephew, father of 2, who was working a 2nd job so he could attain the American dream of buying a house.
I shudder to think that perhaps an adult, (anyone over the age of 18), could talk someone younger into being his lookout/accomplice/killer, and use the theory if you are caught, don't sweat it, you are underage and by law the cops cannot touch you, and probably adding that if you are caught the most that will happen is juvenille detention.
I applaud the state of Florida for taking a stand. I wanted justice. And with the current law on the books in Florida, I thought it was served.
I believe the current law makes the potential killer take pause if he thinks there will be serious repercussions. Without consequences, many more will mourn lives taken too soon.



http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/lookout/kuntrell-jackson-evan-miller-jailed-life-14-supreme-164654442.html

Day 74 - Want to Smell like the Pope?

OK, I confess, I like to browse the style pages of certain sites. Although I am not trendy, or what one would call fashionable, I do enjoy reading about what's hot, what's new and who is creating what.
I was browsing my favorite style site and I must admit that I was surprised to learn that the leader of the Catholic Church, Pope Benedict XVI has his own personal cologne created specifically for him by perfumer Silvana Casoli. It is a blend of grasses, limes and verbena as the pontiff prefers the smell of nature. Because it was created specifically for him, and not necessarily for the mass market, there is no brand name associated with the cologne. As a marketer I feel compelled to name it. How about Eau de Peaup, SinFree, Pa-pal  no. XVI ?
However, personally I think this cologne would be a really tough sell. Every ad for men's colognes generally feature skimpily clad women fawning over the just spritzed male, somehow I don't see that happening for Pope Benedict's potion.
As a Catholic, I was taught many things about the church and its history, must confess I don't remember Sister Mary Francis ever sharing that the pontiff had his own cologne. Learn something new everyday.

Day 73 - Time to Outlaw the Trout Pout

I blame Angelina Jolie. She has naturally luscious lips, which I believe are directly responsible for the epidemic of overstuffed, over puffed trout-y pouts being seen on actresses everywhere.
I first noticed the phenomenon with Melanie Griffith, in fact, I did not even recognize her with her massive lips, and it was nearly impossible to understand what she was trying to say when being interviewed by David Letterman. Next, I could not help but notice that troubled bad girl, Lindsay Lohan showed up with lips that looked like someone had punched her in the mouth. There was a California based talk show host named Lisa something who showed up on Dancing with the Stars whose lips, I swear to God, entered a room a full second before she showed up. Now we are watching a series called Unforgettable, and the star actress, Poppy Montgomery, who is lovely to look at, and a fine actress has the same collagen filled lips which makes it difficult to understand her, as all I can think of when she is on screen is why in hell did you puff your lips? Then I remember Angelina Jolie. Can't you just see these folks walking into their local plastic surgeons wearing the requisite I don't want to be recognized dark glasses, and the Greta Garbo floppy hat, clutching a picture of Angelina Jolie and begging the surgeons to make their lips as luscious as hers. And when their lips do not turn out exactly as they wanted, why don't they say something? Why don't they tell their sad lip story to the press? Oh, I forgot, those giant overstuffed lips makes it vertually impossible for them to talk!
I guess as long as vanity reigns, plastic surgeons will abound and the trout-pout will continue.