Skinny Faces and Nasty Bitches

"Wow!  I can tell you lost weight..... I can see it in your face!"

Just what every person wants to hear.  The area where the most change has occurred is in your face.  Fabulous.

I was really hoping it would be my giant ass or tree trunk legs that would be the first place affected.  Even better, if I didn't have to suck in my gut and still feel a fat roll, I'd be thrilled!  But noooooooo.  My face looks thinner.

F*&%ing hell!

I even would've been happy if my boobs looked smaller.  They've been a huge pain in the ass since I was a teenager.  Wearing the "grandma bras and sex killer lingerie" is the pits.  (A woman at a department store actually referred to my purchases as being "grandma-ish sex killers" once.  Never went back there.)  By 41, I've just given up.  It takes me back to the sensible shoes thing.....sometimes comfort is worth sacrificing style.

Operation Fattypants is still going.  You thought I would've crapped out by now, didn't you?  The coconut cake and chocolate chip cookies still call, but I send them straight to voice mail.   Sorry, no time for you!

I'm ten pounds down and still shrinking.   Slooooooooowwwly.  But I can feel a difference already.  Who would've thought ten pounds would make a difference (other than in my face...oy!)?  

Yesterday I was lamenting the fact that all of my skorts were falling off when I wear them.  Then what little is left of the "cool person I thought I was" many years ago clicked in and said, 'Maybe that's a sign that thin people don't need to resort to the skort, Vic.  Is the skort still in style???  I haven't seen people wear them...um...anywhere lately.  I wonder why that is??"

My inner cool person is a sarcastic bitch.

Speaking of bitches.... last night we were watching "Big Brother" on CBS and we are always shocked by  how even more horrible these human beings become week after week.  It gives me a smidgen of anxiety.  What a surprise.  Me and anxiety.  Who woulda guessed?!

Before I go on, yes, I watch cheesy reality shows.  My DVR is stockpiling them for me.  Andy Cohen is my DVR's pimp. He makes a new show and I find myself up at 1am, with toothpicks holding my eye lids open, glued to the TV. All of those Housewives and the Millionaire realtors are hanging out patiently, waiting to rot my mind, late at night after Allie is asleep.  

But Big Brother is by far the worst of them.  I'm not proud.  Loyal, but not proud.

I've watching since the inception of BB and I go back for more year after year.  Big Brother After Dark kept me entertained during the insomnia phase of pregnancy, so I kinda owe them.  (That's my pathetic excuse of the moment right there)

This year the women are embarrassing.  Three are racists who think their comments (which are heard live by millions of people) are "no big deal".  Another one has tried to start a romance with four men, desperately trying one after the other until one of them took the bait.  (He has since dumped her and moved on to one of the racists.)  One is a master manipulator who uses her skills in politics to shmooze everyone and fool them into thinking she is on their side.  And one is a complete bully, whose mission is to force her housemates into doing what she wants, or she scares the shit out of them.

Not one of these women could be a role model for Allie.  They are dreadful.

And yet, there are two who I find endearing.  One is a highly sensitive yoga instructor who is a terrible  liar, a devoted friend, and everyone thinks she's a dope.  The other one is an attractive, intelligent african american girl who is antagonized by racist comments and tries desperately to stand up for herself, which everyone in the house finds to be annoying.

Out of this collection of women, the only people I would want Allie to learn anything from are The Dumbass and The Annoying One.  That's what the others have pretty much labeled the people with scruples.  How lovely.

Before having Allie, Justin and I used to have conversations about having children and often the same statement came out: Do we want to bring a child into a world full of so much hate?  My only response was, 'If the good people start dwindling, who will stop the others from taking over?"  

So, in turn, I have now declared my Big Brother viewing to be research.  R&D.  Research and Development to prepare myself for what kind of people are out there waiting to corrupt my little princess after we have worked so hard at teaching her to be a kind, loving little soul.  

We need to prepare her to fight the meaniepants bitches from "taking over".  Fight the good fight!  Speak out against the injustices of the world!  Have a cape and a mask!  Wear gold bracelets that deflect bullets!   Make friends with the Wonder Twins so you can report back to me how they actually activate their powers!  Rule Gotham dammit!!!  (I took it too far)

How about if she just hangs out with Shaggy and Scooby (ruh-ro!), and makes friends with the girls that the evil ones have labeled as dumbasses and annoying?  They may very well be misrepresented.   Someone should find out for sure.

In the meantime, she can help house train Scrappy until they get it all figured out. 

My little crime fighter

Welcome to TV Land . . . Smiles, Everyone! Smiles!

There's a really weird bond that can be created by television.  Have you ever met someone new and discovered that they watch the same shows you do and immediately you feel this kinship with them?  Like, just because they watch Dexter or The Good Wife, they're cool with you and you can become potential besties.

I remember getting my nails done years ago and all of the women who worked there were speaking to each other in Korean and the customers were just kind of looking around, smiling at each other if they happened to glance at each other at the same time.  There was a TV over my manicurist's head and I saw a Sopranos commercial come on.  There was a preview for the episode when Adrienne "goes missing" and we all kind of gasped.  

BAM!  Instant kinship.  

"Oh my gawd, did you see that?" "I bet they killed her." "No, Tony would never do that to Christopher!"  "She was such an idiot.  Why would she become a rat?" And then suddenly East met West and all of the Korean girls were talking to all of us on the other side of the tables.  It was like the UN!  It was the day that we all bonded at Fancy Nail.  Over kidnapping, murder and Mafia family values.  

The welcome wagon from The United Nations of Sopranos.  Not quite warm and fuzzy but they got the job done.

Flash forward a bunch of years and I'm posting on Facebook about how the Bubble Guppies songs are stuck in my head and I can't decide if its time for lunch or if everyone should line up and go outside.  Right away my phone starts alerting me to responses.  All of these other moms/grandmothers are hitting me with lyrics and hilarious sympathy.  I felt really connected to that group of people right then.  Over cartoon fish people who sing.

Click here to hear and see the highly addictive Outside Song....Warning : It sticks with ya

Then, there is the super weird bond over which we morph TV interests and start liking crap we never thought we would even KNOW the titles of because of who we live with.  I find myself alerting Justin that Gas Monkey is on in a half hour and "dont forget to tape Devil's Ride so I can see what happens later".  And Storage Wars has no mercy with picking a scheduled time for new episodes, so if its on we stop surfing and watch it.

One day (please forgive me, my VERY masculine husband) I come home to find that while he was sick, he watched the whole last season of The Real Housewives of New Jersey and he couldn't believe "those crazy bitches kept me from changing the channel for six hours!"  Suddenly, Im in luring him in with housewife insanity from four other cities and he's asking if I want him to set up Andy Cohen's WWHL on the DVR...cuz you KNOW he's got the 411, so you have to add that too.

The Bill Gates of Bitchy, Narcissistic, Campy Reality Television: Andy Cohen

(Note: I do feel bad about the Housewives thing.  I knew full well that he wouldn't be able to help himself once it was in on and in his face.  It was wrong, I know.)

Amongst the Duck Dynasty reruns are fifty thousand Peppa Pigs we save for Allie on the DVR.  We know all of the episodes ("this is the one where Daddy Pig forgets his blueprints at home and they make paper airplanes out of them") and we quickly learned the Mickey Mouse Club Hot Dog dance after seeing every episode on the Disney Channel and YouTube.  Now we are dragging a third person into our web of television insanity.

There was one particular day that this theory about television connecting people became very clear.  Justin came home and Allie had fallen asleep earlier with her head on my lap while we sat on the couch watching The Fresh Beat Band.  It was an hour long special where they remade the Wizard of Oz.  The show started at 4pm and he came home at 450pm (yes, its important to know the time).  He asks when she fell asleep and i tell him 415pm.  Then he starts talking to me about some medication situation at the the pharmacy (you know....Important stuff!) and I yell, "SHHUSHH! We are watching this!  We already invested fifty minutes and its almost over.  Can you just hang on??"  

Are you right there with him on this one?  You can take sides, its ok.

He looks at me deadpan and asks, "WHAT TIME did she fall asleep?"

"415.  I just told you that! " I had the audacity to start getting annoyed.

His eyebrows go up and he hits me with, "so WHO is watching this??"

Busted.  And a bit embarrassed.  My excuse for watching Nick Jr shows is asleep and yet I've been dragged into the BABY vortex......by a two year old who conked out, and four overly peppy adults pretending they are quirky teenagers while singing catchy songs.  

Personally, I think I've been set up.  I think he used Allie to get even with me for the Housewives franchise  invasion.  And I was caught in the act without an alibi,  nonetheless.

Well played, husband.  Well played......