Did somebody yell fire??

My most memorable birthday was the year my hair caught on fire.

Yes, on fire.


I was having a birthday bash in the lower level of our supah seventies stylin split level—the downstairs bathroom had velvet wallpaper—can ya dig it?

We were rock’out to the top tunes of 1979.

You may mock the seventies, but I bet you know every one of these:

Top 10 Hit Songs 1979
1 My Sharona The Knack
2 Bad Girls Donna Summer
3 Le Freak Chic
4 Da Ya Think I'm Sexy Rod Stewart
5 Reunited Peaches and Herb
6 I Will Survive Gloria Gaynor
7 Hot Stuff Donna Summer
8 Y.M.C.A. Village People
9 Ring My Bell Anita Ward
10 Sad Eyes Robert John


I think this is the foundation for my taste in crappy POP music.

I graduated in 1990 so my childhood was POP of the late seventies and my tween and teen years were the POP of the eighties.

I am the person that asked my loverly man S, as he played The Joshua Tree for me, the following question:

“Hey, he’s really good—wasn’t Peter Gabrielle in a band or something?”

**crickets**crickets**

“Yeeees, it was called Genesis.”

(said slowly like he’s talking to someone who rides the short bus)

I think he didn’t break up with me b/c we were still in the ‘this new sex is awesome’ stage, it is the only thing that explains how this music lover didn’t walk out right then.


But I digress…


Come with me to 1979 and imagine my polyester plaid pants and we’re all swinging our Brady Bunch hair to Rod Stewart’s ‘Do Ya Think I’m Sexy’ and giggling

because we know that’s something
ahem, adult

—but we really have no freaking clue what the song means b/c in 1979 a seven year old is still pretty innocent

—there’s no MTV and the raciest thing we’ve seen is our Day’s of Our Lives where they stare at each other all intense, kiss like mad, and then the camera pans to the wallpaper.

We’re so innocent my theme is Raggedy Ann—and no one thinks I’m a dork.

They think that it is cool that my mom is artistic and hand drew Raggedy Ann invitations on the paper we made ourselves.

They even think it ‘s Far Out that my mom made a Raggedy Ann cake.

Eventually we tear ourselves away from Rod and settle down for cake and presents.

My mom lights the candles and stepps aside, camera ready.

I leeaaannnforward for the posed ‘pretend to blow but don’t really till after the flash’ shot

—and suddenly my mother is giving me a beat down.


That’s all I can think.

My mother is beating the crap out of me?

My friends are staring in horror.

Then she stops and I realize she has been beating down the flame that was racing its way up my Brady Bunch Hair.

I do not think

"I might have died."

I do not think

"thank you mother."

I do not think

"at least the cake is ok."

I think







I want my hair back!!!!!!




The party paused while we snipped and aired out the room.

Then there was cake and joking and presents.

I wish I could say that there was a American Girls/After School Special moment

One where I went to school Monday and all my friends had cut their hair as a show of solidarity.

But alas, no.

Kids were much more innocent then, but they still wanted to look cool.

Clearing Clutter as Motivation

Forive my pic placement--no idea how to insert them throughout post...

This isn't TECHNICALLY healthy...

but I see clearing out the crap as symbolic

streamlining my life=streamlining my body

Here are some photos of my office cleaned and organized for the new semester.


There is also a pic of a bag full of empty bottles--
I kept two weeks worth to see how much I was REALLY drinking

loyal coke drinkers, excuse my mixed 'bag'--the vending machines on campus only carry pepsi

the visual is (I hope) going to help me cut down.

I'm switching to a smaller bottle(12 oz)as I cut down

Sergeant Sweetpea

I found my very own drill sergeant--Sweetpea!

She is tough, man.

This picture is me fighting her off--saying NO NO NO MORE LEG LIFTS!!!

I told her mommy wants to be less squishy and outlined my goals
-less pop/soday
-less sugar
-more exercise

Thus my very own trainer from hell was born--

mommy! put that down! that has sugar!

Mommy! put that down! that is pop!

mommy! you don't want to be squishy!



and during the pilates tape?

her leg is higher mommy! get your leg up like her!

(pats my head while i wheeze) you're doing great mommy!

don't stop! go go go! (when I attempt to lie down on my mat)


It's good I have her as I started off badly--no gym membership forms were completed.

I've decided not to delude myself--I'M NEVER GOING TO GO!

I bargained wheedled nagged S into agreeing that a treadmill is a necessary purchase when the tax man returns the money.

However, that is two months away...

In the meantime I did some other aerobic activiteees:
1) rearranged furniture in every room in the house
this counts b/c I was breathing hard and I was sore the next day

2)shoveled the driveway two times
ditto

3)did a pilates tape one time

So by my reckoning I count this as 3-4 workouts, the furniture being 2

I don't feel thinner yet, but I feel sore!

hopefully the thin will come :)

skinny chicks in sumo suits week one

Supah and I go way back with our weight discussions--preDBD,and I can attest to her statement that she was HAWT when they met :O)

she was running and a WW model of perfection. she even wore a bikini on our trip to Cancun and looked awesome in it.

Me? i wore a one piece.

Supah says she has pics of this trip with us in bathing suits and if I see them, I think I'll find that I would pay big bucks to be that weight, even though I thought I was fat at the time.

I've been up and down since late teens, but right now is my personal best-er, heaviest that is.

I depress myself with the knowledge that my current wieght is the same as when I was 9 months preggers...that I was thinner the year after giving birth than I am right now...sigh

sometimes I tell myself I have a psychologically induced pregnancy so I not REALLY fat :)

hmmm...maybe therapy instead of a treadmill

but I digress

how did this happen!!!!????

I went to grad school when sweetpea was a year and worked part-time.

Late nights
+mommyhood
+big bottles of coke
+midnight munchies while typing papers
=onset of fatty status

Then work full-time
+mommyhood
+coke
+all day munchies
+no exercise
=fatty who doesn't have time to care she is a fatty

Then ***insert sound of record being scratched to a halt***...

sweatpea and I are reading a book,

she gets quiet

Me-what's up buttercup?

SP-Chloe at school said you have a fat tummy

Me-oh, well, mommy does I guess, how did that make you feel?

Me inside my head--that little MF with the anorexic mother better watch out!

Me--sniffle sniffle

SP-don't worry mommy, i love you squishy.

SP pointing to FAT LADY IN CIRCUS BOOK--she's bigger than you mommy

OMG!

I'm going to be the fat mom she's embarrassed by, holy shit!!!

But I'm smart!
Isn't that better???????



Apparently not.


I need to get myshit together:

Goals for week 1:
1) join the fitness center
I have NNOOOOO excuse as it is disgustingly cheap for college employees-$20/month

2)go to said gym 1X this week
I am setting the bar low so I can bask in being an overachiever if I go twice

3)drink more water
I am not giving up my belove coke just yet

Supah won't make us post pre-weight loss bathing suit photos will she?