Growing a Meat Beard - Or The Thing I Have In Common With Vince Vaughn

I am obsessed with double chins.

I catch myself looking at people’s neck area everywhere I go.

Every time I see someone with a double chin, I feel a brief thrill of solidarity – my people!!

I generally tend to avoid mirrors but find myself checking my reflection numerous times a day, scoping out my new meat beard.

I have always been a bit jowly; kind of like Minnie Driver, although nowhere near as attractive.  There has always been a tiny…bubble?..I don’t know the term. 

Not a turkey wattle – although I feel like that is in the queue-- more like an uninflated vocal sack? 

Anyway, there was always a bit of softness there. ‘But the actual second chin is a new phenomenon.

I have gained 40 pounds in the last twelve months.

Not there yet, but it feels like it!

The last 10 pounds I have packed on seemed to have come with a free fanny-pack for my throat and it is on my mind constantly.

The Monday after the Oscars, I went scrolling through all of the photos from the event and afterparties, looking for celeb double chins.  The double chins I found were not met with the same sense of solidarity as, say, when I find one on your Aunt Janet at Target.  How could they be when there were 23,000 worth of Winston diamonds reflecting rainbows of light across the sagging chin of a millionaire?  Definitely not ‘my people’!

I have Googled ‘why do I have a double chin’, ‘how to get rid of a double chin’, and a variety of diets – Keto! Whole30! Mediterranean! – designed to reduce body fat, and thus send my throatee back to the netherworld from whence it emerged.

(Side note: I also remembered one of my mother’s more flamboyant friends, standing in our living room, advising someone – surely not my 8-year-old self, definitely not my 90-lb mother, and hopefully not my teenaged sister – that giving blow jobs was the best way to prevent or get rid of a double chin.  Lest anyone was in doubt of her meaning, she very graphically mimed the, er, activity. Not sure how I feel about that right now in regards to my double chin, but the thought is out there - yikes.)

So, this is my reality right now.  It’s not my favorite thing, and I have definitely been working on it the last few days, but it is definitely making my life uncomfortable.  Every picture I take at every event, I try to position my head just so, and I furiously delete my photos if I am not happy with the fat scarf showing up. 

I am working on it, though.

I know that diet and exercise are the key to losing weight, and hopefully losing my face extension, so I emptied my fridge and cupboards of anything that could contribute to me gaining or maintaining this weight.

I ‘exercised’ last night – more on that tomorrow – and I have been doing weird exercises to tighten the flab there.

About the BJ’s?

I’ll keep you posted.

Haven't exactly started shopping here, but I haven't ruled it out!

F*ck Your Foot Fetish, Feet Are Awful

This is what alllllll feet are in my head.  NO.

Guys...

I hate feet.  Seriously.

Feet are sooooo gross.

I very much appreciate the appendages at the ends of my ankles.

I appreciate how they bear me up.

I appreciate how they bear up when I force them into flat-footed Converse for several hours. (I have super high arches, so wearing my beloved Converse is agony.)

I appreciate how they deal with me wearing 4, 5, 6,-inch heels, because being 5'3" is a curse.

But feet are gross:

Toe jam.

Athlete's foot.

Nail fungus.

Also, feet stink 

LITERALLY STINK.

Have you ever had someone take their shoes off in front of you and wanted to puke??

I have.

There are all kinds of products to make feet better:

Foot scrub.
Heel cream.
Pedicures.
Gel insoles.
Odor Eaters.

I don't think I had a problem with feet until the third grade when I started competing in track meets.

I got home at night, proudly displaying my red and blue 'first and second place' ribbons and noticed that my feet smelled like dirt and burned eggs.

Yuck.

When I dated the soccer player, I noticed his feet smelled like boiled eggs and manure.

Didn't stop me from having his baby, but MAN!!!  24 years later and my eyeballs still hurt.


I never thought about my feet, besides keeping them scrupulously clean, until a friend invited me to get a pedi.


Foot-soak in warm salt water, foot massage, toenail painting.  Someone voluntarily kneading and rubbing and touching my feet.

EW!

Blurgh!

Soooo gross.

DO NOT TOUCH MY FEET!

 I literally cannot imagine touching feet for a living.

Like, AT ALL.

I would, legit, rather give Robert Kraft a handy than touch his (or your) feet.


I read a book where the protagonist hated her feet being touched and I was, like, DUH!!

*PREACH, SISTER!*

FEET ARE GROSS!



Feet are like....well...gosh, I hate saying this....

Feet are like, um....well, the intergluteal cleft.

Useful, but also gross.

The only time I like feet is when I am at the beach.  That is the only time I will go barefoot (I wear socks in bed, whether I am solo or not), besides the shower, obvs.


The only time I appreciate having feet is at the ocean.  Other than that, they are something to be  managed -- exfoliating, clipping, lotioning (because 'moist'urizing is a barfy word!).


Clearly I would prefer to have  feet - the alternative is unthinkable - but why are feet so weird and gross?

Toenails??

Toenails are so icky.

And woe betide any man who clips his toenails in front of me (or outside the bathroom).

I have been told repeatedly that I have body dysmorphia, so I can't help but wonder if my foot aversion is part of this...

After all, I am sure there are may people who never even think about their feet.

Just like there are people who think about feet allllllll the time.

How do people with foot fetishes DO THIS??

Like, you put a toe in your mouth??

Ummm, no.

100

So, I noticed the other day that my blog was getting an inordinate amount of hits -- and I haven't posted in weeks.

Again, it is the Russians -- alert Mueller!

Anyway, I noticed that I have posted 99 blogs...which means THIS ONE is the 100th.

Kind of momentous, no?

Actually, NO.

In 4 years, I have posted 100 times, which means I am a HUGE slacker -- do the math yourselves, I am too fat and tired to do it on my own..

For fun, let's compare then and now....



Four years ago, I had just moved back from California.  

I was: skinny, tan, happy, single, living with Jim in a mutually-satisfying very platonic, co-parenting sitch.  I was in love with one person, somewhat enamored with another one that I was having semi-regular sex with, and totally OK with the whole thing.
.
I was working somewhere I hated.  I was doing the best I could with Lexi, I had some really good friends that I never saw, and I was obsessed with Ryan Gosling.

Fast forward 4 years...

I am: 
Fat. 
Pasty. 
Prone to random anxiety attacks where I feel like my heart is simply going to BURST in my chest.  It happens when I have too much coffee on an empty stomach in the morning, but it is AWFUL!  I have never had them before 2016, and I literally WOULD NOT wish them on my worst enemy,

Still in love with one person.  Gratefully broken free from the other (sorry, TC, but it HAD to happen!)

I LOVE MY JOB.  I have the best tribe of friends, near AND far.  Ryan Gosling has been replaced with a Jason Momoa obsession that is somewhat troubling. (Paying $200 just for a pic with him next month, yo - can we SPELL 'desperate spinster'?)

Also, I now have 2 of the most ridiculously adorable, snuggly, silly, fluffy babes in the world to love on.  My little sister -- who is my best friend, my biggest advocate, and the most real critic of calling me about on the HEAPS of bullshit I use to obfuscate the real world about my life, had 2 babies in 16 months, and widened the joy in my heart by 2,000,000%. If I didn't have my little Harlow Grey Evelyn, I may not have made it thought the summer of 2016.  

Because of this:

Biggest change ever is that I don't have my wing man.
My "got-your-six".

And my daughter has no father.

I am a single mom. so I guess I join the ranks of a lot of women whose children have no father.
The problem is that he was her BFF, her co-conspirator against my no-TV-no-sugar-no-electronic lifestyle.  
Lexi and Daddy were partners in crime, and just had the most special bond ever.

Lexi's dad left us forever in 2016, and it is the biggest thing that has happened in my life besides the births of my 2 children and the death of my BFF my Junior year in high school, and the birth of Harlow Grey and Weston James.

I don't think I have fully been able to process losing my BFF.  And I know my little girl has not, although we are both trying mightily.

So, yes, I am super different now than I was the day I started this whole mess...

And I do mean MESS.

I have had employers tell me how much they loved this blog...like, WHAT??  I literally wrote about all of my drug-addled experiences, not to mention my raging promiscuity.

I have had my favorite child (not Lexi, FYI) call me out on my sex life (EW!) after reading this.

I have had good friends analyze me based on what I share here; ummm, NO, I am not "afraid" of my feelings, I just don't have any!  Deal with it.

I have had family members chastise me or try to make me feel guilty for sharing my truth.

Through it all, I have found it is really fun to write, get my thoughts out, and share things that I have had people (not the Russians, obvs) tell me resonated with them.  (Although I DO wish you would comment on the blog and not PM me, as comments help with the monetizing side! HUGE hint)

Anyway, I legit do not have anything special to report on this 100th blog.

I am still me.

I am still writing and working and struggling to be the best version of myself.

I fail daily.

I don't always measure up to the person I ask myself to be when I wake up in the morning.

The thing is this...

I am still here.

I am still doing my best, even when I fall short of my own expectations.

Here is where I am today.

I love my friends.

I love my tribe -- a group of powerful, crazy, hilarious people that came to me as a direct result of losing Jimbo.

I love my girls from NUHS....so much, and can't wait until 2023 when we are all together again.

I love my family, even the ones I can't even begin to comprehend.

I love my job, .  It makes me mad, sad, crazy, and tired, but I always find one person every day to interact with that reminds me why this is the best thing ever,

I love my girls.

I love....well, you know who you are.

I love Jason Momoa's abs and pecs and biceps.

I don't actually love myself, but I am working on that SUPER hard every day.

So, on this momentous (or not so much) blog post, all I can say is this:

I love.

Lots and lots of people and things, and that really is pretty frickin' awesome.


<3

Also, this.  Because why not??

Somewhere Between "New Year, New Me', and "Same Shit Different Day"

It's the end of what has felt like the longest year in living history,

Literally.

People, how long has this year been??

It actually feels like 2018 has been 365 YEARS long.

A whole shit ton of stuff happened this year, and it felt like it took forever to happen.

I had friends get married, have babies, have affairs, get divorced, separate, get back together, inherit money, lose their job, and basically every major life event that you could possibly imagine.

All of that happened to a variety of people in my life.

None of that happened to me though, because I was too busy in 2018 to have a life.

TOO BUSY.  TO HAVE A LIFE.

When people tell me I should get more sleep, it makes me very stabby!!

How is that even a thing?

I barely noticed as the days and weeks and months slipped by, that I wasn't doing very many of the things I normally do at certain times of the year.  I wasn't doing very much of ANYTHING that I normally do.  I was running all over the place, doing tons and tons of STUFF, but not getting any of my stuff done.

I don't exactly understand why I never say no to people, or why I feel the need to be the first person to bat if I see life throw a fastball at a friend.  I have had multiple friends and family members tell me why THEY think I do this, and their answers are always plausible, but they don't exactly ring true with me enough where I can say, "A-HA! You nailed it.  Soooo, if I simply do X instead of Y, I will be able to completely change a lifetime habit??  Thanks, bro".

All I know is, that in spite of posting on 12/30/17, that 2018 was going to be the year I focused on myself and my girls, it actually wasn't at all.

This is getting a little old!

I think I saw Erica, like, 5 times.  (Not minimizing the epic awesomeness of our brunch at Salty's, kiddo, it was the greatest)  I know I palmed Lexi off on friends and family too many times to count, just so I could do stuff that was not MY stuff. 

Not that I have any regrets - besides getting fat(ter).  I kind of did that on purpose (more on that later).

I had sooooo much fun with my friends this year, and I really don't regret any of the times I dropped everything and stepped in to help somewhere.  I love my friends, I am soooo lucky for all of the amazing people in my life, and I love that I was able to spend so much time with everyone I spent time with.  I even think I made "Taco Tuesday" once or twice, which is a major win for me.


However, it has become abundantly clear to me that, unless I calm the fuck down and just insist on creating a life and a schedule that works for me, my quality of life is going to continue to leave me frazzled, overwrought, and slightly cranky.  Actually, there is nothing slight about my crankiness at this point.  I have lately come to notice that my usual happy, freewheeling-within-boundaries, chill personality has been taken over by this guy:

Sooooo, am I going to become a new person just because of some dates on a calendar?  Probably not.  However, I see no reason not to dive into the tide of optimism, hope, and energy that accompanies this particular time of the year.  There are some things I really want to change, and it seems the most advantageous to embark on those changes at a time when the zeitgeist of this time of year is at its peak.  I have discussed the things I want to do with people I know will (lovingly) hold me accountable, and I am going to jump in with both feet and see if I can address some things that need addressing.

Onto the elephant in the room.  

I am still single.

I am pretty sure I mentioned a few times over the course of this year that it was time for me to saddle up and find a cowboy to ride...with!  I meant with!

Didn't happen.

I kind of thought it was going to for about 5 minutes, but that was a naw.
THEN, something very...strange happened in the spring (not telling)-- I say 'happened', as if I was not a very active orchestrator, chuh! --  that made me realize there was no real reason for me to get involved with anyone, and one very big reason why I shouldn't.

Having decided that, without actually declaring it to the many interested parties (seriously, I get nagged at least once a week for still being single.  Just the other night, my little sister raised her eyebrows at me and said, "You really need to settle down."  I just was, like, "Nah, I'm good."  Didn't go over well), I must have figured the best way to deal with what happened in the spring, and the surest way to make sure I absolutely will not submit myself to the agony of a billion first dates, I got fat.

I wasn't aware of the psychology of why I stopped preparing meals at home and started eating at restaurants and turning Door Dash into my daily meal service (seriously, the amount of money I gave to them this year is obscene -- it literally disgusts me.), but in hindsight, I can see where I literally put a barrier (of fat, yes, but a barrier all the same) between me and the opposite sex, which gives me a perfect excuse to stay single for, like, ever.

Anyway, I am fine with being single; seriously.  I am not so fine with being fat, though, so sorting that out is priority at this point.

As far as the poor, unwitting schmuck I trick into kickin' it with me until 2059...I am sure he is out there somewhere, probably drunk, or maybe just spending New Year's Eve feeding his goats and chickens out in Amboy, waiting for me to show up in his yard. (inside joke)  Do I think 2019 is the year I will finally get my sister off my case about my spinsterhood?  I don't really know, and it's not really that important to me...at this point, I just want to acually enjoy my life.

Right now, that is good enough for me.

Don't worry Neo, your real mom is coming soon!!

I hope all of you have a very wonderful evening celebrating the close of the year, just do it safely, please, so you are all still here when the sun rises on a new, hopefully better, year.

At midnight, when all of my friends are wrapped in each other's arms, locking lips, I will be wrapping my lips around a bottle of Jameson, so I have that going for me....

xoxoxox



PS - Go watch Aquaman, please, so that Hollywood will sign JM in allllllll the shirtless movies in 2019!

I Got Political By Accident....Sorry!!!

You know I don't do religion or politics, but I am SO mad right now......

Probably going to lose some FB friends over this...
Guess what?

#IDGAF

Dear Democrats. 
Um...I love you.
Or at least I love your ideals.
Peace, love, giving hand-ups and not hand-outs, free love, free lunch for poor kids, giving birth control to people who have NO EFFING BUSINESS HAVING CHILDREN.

However.

There is a reason that there is a vulgar, offensive, repulsive, chimpanzee in the Oval Office.

You guys went all in on a vulgar, offensive, repulsive murderess in 2016, and you effed the whole entire country over because there were hundreds of thousands of people who were NOT
"#ImWithHer but - in fact - #AnyoneButHer

So, here you are 2 years in and you won back the House.

Well done.

Good on you.

What will you do with this?
You have alllll the diversity you ever claimed to support and invest in on Capitol Hill right now.

You have young Reps and gay Reps and ethnic Reps and Indigenous Reps, and every kind of Rep any Dem that is not in the whole HRC-DWS Brigade could ask for.

History is yours for the taking.

So, PLEASE --- one of you -- PLEASE explain to me HOW THE EFF a 78-year old WHITE BILLIONAIRE is being considered for Speaker of the House???

Are you INSANE??

Did 2016 teach you nothing?

Is it because she is a WOMAN??

Because that is SUCH a massive form of discrimination, that you should be ashamed.

I am a registered Independent.
I hate both Dems and Repubs, even though I have voted for both depending on what's at stake, but GOOD LORT!!!

You idiots backed the wrong horse in 2016, and opened the door so a vile, treacherous bigot who has made us an international laughingstock and stoked the flames of white supremacy in the name of "nationalism" at home could put his ass in the same room Ronald Reagan and Dwight Eisenhower sat in.

You have inspired a bunch of wankers with no jobs to call themselves "ANTIFA" as a backlash against Cheeto-Man to run around the country causing property damage to small business owners, to assault normal working Americans trying to walk or drive home from work and to wreak havoc because they have the 'right' to do so.

Dear Dems, if you have any hope of ending the negativity and divisiveness and forging a new image and legacy for your party, then you need to WAKE UP!!

Nancy Pelosi did a good job way back when.

Nancy Pelosi was a good Rep way back when.

That was then.
This is now.

Is the Democrat Party a party of OLD, WHITE BILLIONAIRES??

If not, raise UP, kids!! Get in the fight.
Demand a new Speaker.

Someone that will work with Candyfloss-Head to fix our bridges and roads and dams.

Someone that will WORK with Beaker to bolster our infrastructure and maybe get clean water in Flint.

Someone besides an old white billionaire you support because she has a vagina. (I think)

Persevere.
Persist.
RESIST.

NOT Nancy.

Not Nancy.

#NotNancy

#ImNOTWithHer

#NeverthelessSheResisted

Also, can't post without pointing out that Jason Momoa is everything.

7 Days Later And I Am Fine.

I took a #Facebreak last week.

7 days not on Facebook.

I did it because I was tired of dropping my phone on my face when I fell asleep at night.

I did it because I was tired of waking up and jumping on to see what was going on in the FB World.

I did it to see if I could.

I did it because I am SOOOOO sick of your stupid political memes.

I did it because I fucking HATE seeing your #PETA posts, showing chickens with no beaks and deformed cows, etc.

I did it because I needed to see how much FB really means to me.

Day 1.  I had to FORCE MYSELF to NOT log in.  App was deleted off of phone and laptop and desktop, but I still typed "facebook" into the browser after reading the 'news', both real and fake.  Had to force myself not to type in email and password.  Didn't type in my email, just typed  "Jason Momoa shirtless" into the Google tab as a means of (very welcome) distraction.

Can you BLAME me??

Day 2....well, I had a lot of shit going on, so I had no time to be tempted by Facebook.  Only time to be tempted by this:

Ahem.

Day 3.  Only mad that I cant see pics of my Baby Harlow.  Messenger, in my experience, is an offshoot of FB, so I can't get on Messenger without logging into FB, right?  Which means, I can't see THIS every day:

Harlow messing with her "WOO"

Day 4:  Didn't even think about FB because OH MY EVER FUCKING HEAVENS I HAVE TOO MUCH WORK TO DO!!!


Day 5:  Same.


Day 6:  Lexi is the biggest pain in the ass in the wholewideworld, and as much as I absolutely (for REAL) love my job.....I FUCKING HATE MY JOB!!


Day 7:  Guess what?? Messenger works without FB!!  Hallelujah!!  Communication is a thing!


Day 8:  I love and miss updates from my friends, but is there anything related to #JasonMomoa that I have missed???

Seriously the most perfect human on the planet.

Today:  Ummm...do I have to???  As much as I want to check in and see how you all are, I literally do not gove one single fuck how you feel about Brexit, MAGA, Omafuckface, Duchess Megs (although I luurrve her!), Kourtney's love life, or Brangelina's demise (although.... HAHA, you fucking cheaters!!).

I decided that FB is a means to an end for me.  Sooo, I will be whittling down my "friends" list very severely in the next week, so that only my actual friends are on my FB.  I will be unsubscribing from MANY groups and pages.

I literally mean not one ounce of offense to anyone, but I realized in my FB-free week, that there are very few people I want to be around, talk to, or interact with.  All of the others came about because of friends of friends and because my best friend died and suddenly a number of people I have never even met wanted to be FB friends with me.  I appreciate that...like, sooooo much.  But I have to just "do me", which means I have to be real and authentic and only keep people in my cyber (who even uses that phrase anymore??) life people that I know.

If I delete you, don't take it personally, I may accept a friend request from you in the future (unless your initials are JDW, in which case --QUIT FUCKING ASKING MY FRIENDS WHERE I AM, THEY WILL NEVER TELL YOU, ASSHOLE!!-- sorry, it had to be said), but just now I have realized that my personal social media should only be people I actually know and love.

Like this dude:

Ok,  Ok, I don't KNOW him, but I certainly LOVE him!! <3

Taking a Facebreak, Or Why I am Breaking Up With Facebook For A Week

YOU GUYS!!!!!

Facebook is AWFUL!!


Apparently Facebook did a study where Facebook made you feel bad about your life after scrolling.

BUT WAIT!!

Facebook also did a study that proved Facebook makes you feel better about your life after scrolling.

Then there was a study at Cornell.

Facebook is GOOD for you.

Then Thrillist said it is bad for you.

Then the Germans said, NO, FB is actually helping you make better connections.

It's all too confusing...Facebook is fun, but it annoys me that I pick up my phone and check it when I wake up in the morning.

I hate that about Facebook.



Here is why I like Facebook:

Ummm, yes please!!

I'll take two!!

Always

But, the real deal is this.  I used to read myself to sleep every night with an actual fucking book, and now I fall asleep dropping my phone on my face, because I am scrolling down my Newsfeed.

I very much love seeing pictures of my friends raising fabulous humans, I love seeing your birthday/anniversary/christening/bris/wedding/etc. pics, I honestly do. 

HOWEVER, I am SOOOOO over all of your fucking drama. 

I hate when you post chicken farm pics, puppy mill pics, and allllllll of your posts chastising snowflakes or celebrating 45. 

Do you HONESTLY think your political FB posts influence anyone??? 

WHY do you post pics of  ridiculous memes how your "Republican" people and your "Democrat" people are better than the other guy??

Do you HONESTLY not know that politics is a bank, the "two parties" are the managers,  and you are an account holder with an overdraft???

clears throat

Anyway, I am sick of you Lefties sitting back and doing nothing but posting memes.

I am sick of you Righties sitting back and posting memes.

Has any ONE of your memes ever changed someone’s mind??

Has it???

Pics, or it didn’t happen.

On my FaceBreak, I am going to call the local, state, and national reps I am interested in and DEMAND what I want.

On my FaceBreak, I am going to walk in the dirt with no shoes.

On my FaceBreak, I am going to talk to everyone I see and blog about it.

Sooo, on my FaceBreak, you should text me instead of trying to Messenger me, and if you don’t HAVE my cell….um, that’s probably intentional.

Sooo, on my FaceBreak, if you want to know what I am up to, you will have to check in here:

http://makeawriter.blogspot.com/

But if you don’t want to read more, or talk to me,  then just look at this until I am back on FB...

You're Welcome!!!