Thursday, October 27, 2016

Buy My Mittens?

With the ongoing revelations that our probable next president is even more of a lying, scheming, conniving criminal than we already thought but nobody cares because she has a vagina and so that makes it all okay, I am officially over politics. I am also over artificial thrill-seeking, not that I was ever really into it, after reading about the four adults killed on a relatively innocuous water ride at an Australian amusement park called Dreamworld (hah!), going to the movies when there's plenty of decent stuff on Netflix, smoking pot (always a disappointment), shopping in a real store as opposed to simply ordering everything from Amazon, schlepping around Europe drinking lattes and looking at antiquities, watching Louis C.K. videos since now all he does is talk about having sex, and all forms of dessert. Thus I am currently in the market for new things to do.

I am considering taking up knitting although I've been there, done that after my first marriage ended and it was pretty boring, although less so than the marriage. Still, knitters seem so content. It keeps your hands busy and you get such nice things at the end, things you can use, not just hang on the walls. Who knows, maybe people will buy my mittens.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

No-Brain Food

When you take food out of your life, and by food I mean exciting, delicious, complicated food, the kind that made Anthony Bourdain, who I happen to dislike a lot, a big celebrity, you find you have a lot more free time. One reason is that it puts a dent in your social life, if you had any to begin with. Everyone always wants to meet for lunch or brunch or dinner. How about we get together and just take a walk with no food involved? Why must eating be the center of everything? Enough already with the restaurants!

On the other hand, now that I am doing this Whole30 diet, there are no thoughts in my head other than what to eat and when to eat it. For breakfast today (and yesterday and the day before that) I had a banana and a few walnuts and a handful of blueberries. That was nice, but now I'm wondering what to have for lunch. Or I might even have a snack before lunch, that is totally allowed. Call me madcap but I just might do it. And then there's dinner, naturally, which I am supposed to be having with friends but I'd better check the menu at that place and see if it's Whole30 compliant.

Anyway, I've been really good with no cheating except I have weighed myself even though the rules strictly forbid it and I have lost a pound since I started and also feel better in general. That's good, but I might also be getting dumber. It will be interesting to see what I write about over the next few weeks as my brain cells get thinner.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Dressing for Success

Despite the existence of a retail clothing chain called Forever 21, an article in yesterday's increasingly annoying Wall Street Journal discussed the burning issue of how women past the age of 40 should start "dressing their age." Since I am well past 40 this caught my attention, and I wondered just what I should wear that would be acceptable to all those people I don't know and will never meet who constitute the public and who may be offended by the sight of me in clothing deemed "too young."

A burka made of gummi bears: definitely too young!

What is too young, anyway? (And of course, "Sez who?") Certainly those adorable "onesies" and  footed pajamas and bunny slippers would fall into that category, although I am pretty sure you can sleep in whatever you want. But as for outdoor wear, I am unsure and would hate to offend. This is one of those problems they avoid in Islamic countries with the enforced burkas on women, making life so much easier. So maybe they're not all wrong after all. (Sadly I can't see that trend catching on here, although admit it: Haven't you seen lots of women out there in shorts and tank tops who you wished were wearing a burka instead?)

At bottom is the unstated fact that dressing young gets attention, forcing any onlookers to actually see an old person. This is unpleasant for anyone young who doesn't want to be reminded of the fact that they are inevitably headed in that direction. Thus old people are supposed to try as hard as they can to be invisible. No bright colors! No short skirts displaying wobbly knees or sagging skin! And certainly no low-cut anything, since breasts must be perky and inflated to matter at all!

I am going to the dentist this morning and plan on wearing jeans and a sweater with a polka-dotted scarf. I just hope those dots aren't too loud for my age, because the last person you want to offend is your dentist, at least while he's working on your few remaining teeth.

Monday, October 24, 2016

30 Days to a Whole New Me

It's been three years since I took control of anything, least of all my life, instead allowing myself to be buffeted about by the winds of change. But enough is enough as the saying goes, and so half an hour ago I embarked once again on The Whole 30, a healthy eating program that promises to slim me down, rev me up and uncover my best self. If this all happens in a month just by giving up sugar, dairy, grains, wheat, oats, cereal, alcohol and legumes, and not weighing myself daily, I say it's a small price to pay.

This decision comes after four days of eating mindlessly while out of town visiting dear friends who fed us very well, and a few restaurant meals high on the salt/butter content. And flying First Class round-trip didn't help, what with the flight attendant coming by every fifteen minutes with a variety of ultra-fattening goodies I grabbed by the handful, hoping their consumption would make me forget I was locked inside a tube hurtling across the sky. (Yes, I have heard that flying is the safest form of travel, but still I find it disconcerting when the seat in front of me is emblazoned with the words, YOUR SEAT CUSHION CAN BE USED AS A FLOTATION DEVICE. You almost never see that in a car or a bus or train.) So sure, I'll have another bag of that salty-sweet spicy popcorn, and a couple of those chocolate-chip cookies and some nuts too, thanks.

While there are plenty of nay-sayers out there who debunk this program as, well, as bunk, I have five pairs of jeans, two of them never worn, waiting patiently in my closet cheering me on. I'm doing it for them. And of course to meet my best self; that sounds good too.

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Who's In Your Basket?

Unlike Hillary Clinton, whose basket of deplorables is huge and filled with half the citizens of America (see photo), mine is very small. Teeny, in fact; there are just two people in it, and I'm pretty sure you can guess their names.

One of them is female, a pathological liar who wouldn't know the truth if it smacked her in her grinning ear-to-ear Botoxed face. She says one thing to the rich and something else to the poor, pandering all the while to those oh-so-important LGBTs like they're gonna save us from ISIS and all-out war with Russia. Just one of her thousands of mannish pantsuits could probably feed a family in Haiti for a month. (And FYI, she owes the people of Haiti "big time," according to a friend in the know who witnessed her "charitable foundation's" botched "help" firsthand years ago.)

The other is also a pathological liar --pretty much all politicians are -- who says some good things among all the atrocious things, but the atrocious things far outweigh the good ones. He has the temperament of an adolescent boy which makes him popular in our very immature society wherein people eat pizza and have breadsticks as a side dish and cinnamon buns for dessert. He's funny, but for the wrong reasons. (Except for Rosie O'Donnell.) Worst of all, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be president anyway and never has, so what a waste of our time.

So who's in your basket?

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Some Emails Are Worth Sharing

I am pretty excited! I just received the email shown above and I couldn't be prouder. I am going to complete their short order form and go for it! I have always wanted to be an icon, and now I'll have the chance! I have also always wanted to brand myself, but it sounded so painful I would never do it. But I guess now there's another kind of branding that doesn't involve a hot iron, and I'm ready to find out all about it.

I just wonder how these people found my name. It must be from this blog, since all the other things I do -- like research a cure for cancer and feed the poor in under-developed countries and create new apps for the iPhone -- are done under my pseudonym, with a whole other email address on my private server in the basement. (That's one of the things I have in common with Hillary Clinton.)

Anyway, most of my emails are fairly mundane, but this is one I wanted to share with all of my loyal readers. I can't wait to inspire women with my story.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Sympathy for the Devil

This makes as much sense as hating Donald Trump.

Somewhere deep inside the soul, if they have one, or perhaps underneath the beating heart, if they have one, of every smug, self-satisfied Democrat, a snide little voice is surely screaming, "Come on, let's go jump on the I Hate Donald Trump bandwagon! After all, everyone's doing it! Maybe that will make me feel better about myself."

You get my point. These days the thing to do is hate Donald Trump.  And not just hate him, but hate him with every fiber of your being. He is the Devil. Pure evil. As Babu Bhatt would say, wagging his finger, "He is bad man. A very, very bad man." (Seinfeld fans get this.)

But surely there must be a few lone Democrats out there who do not hate Donald Trump. That doesn't mean they endorse him, only that they still have warm blood running through their veins and can see the human being inside the suit, under the "orange hair" that they all like to mock, who shares some of the same qualities we all possess, and who might even be deserving of a teaspoon of our compassion.

Instead, they all pile on. It's like that fad back in the 1950's of stuffing as many people inside a phone booth as could fit. (The record was 25; no telling how many were Democrats.) It was dumb, stupid, moronic, pointless and dangerous, yet quite popular among those brainless baboons known as human beings. So too is trashing Donald Trump. Hate him in private if you want, but can't you just shut up about it and vote for someone else? Jesus Christ, people, how about a little sympathy for the devil?