Flight 2-1 to the USA, now boarding!!!

The USA crashed out of the World Cup today and many people screamed Good Riddance. The Americans wonder why many don't like them when it comes to international sporting activities and I don't know about other people, but I can hardly stand the commentary and the we are the greatest, we are the best, and if we lose, it's not because the other team was better, but because we had a bad day mentality. Yes, there is talent, but talent without humility and sportsmanship is wasted.

I was channel surfing and heard the dude with the microphone on ESPN (cannot call him an unbiased sports journalist) say How can a country one-tenth the size of America beat the USA? I mean....wow. The level of arrogance is mind numbing and worse, America is home to many immigrants from small nations - immigrants that contribute to their economy. This flippant, arrogant statement really floored me. Especially coming from people whose team features players from countries even smaller than Ghana, including Trinidad and Tobago. I guess when it's not so shocking when it suits them.

 Take the Olympics. The 100m finals. The premier event of all track events. Usain Bolt is from an island way smaller than Ghana and runs circles around their best athletes on a bad day. The results table above just shows that. A Jamaican and a Trini beat an American into third. Shocking. And then for good measure, a dude from the Neth. Antilles, 2 more Jamaicans and another Trini decided to show the other American how it's done. Their total populations probably cannot fit in Alaska. But hey...they beat 'em. USA's World Champion in the 400m hurdles, Kerron Clement is from an island smaller than Ghana...my island. So yes, I am a bit miffed that these people continuously assert themselves as the greatest athletes the world has ever seen and it is incredulous that people from countries with smaller budgets, less resources but a whole lot of heart and pride can drub the USA in a sport that they have not even fully embraced. Shocker! I guess they have gotten so used to being kings in CONCACAF, a region with teams from countries so much smaller and with less financial resources than theirs, that the fact that a "small" African nation could send them packing is too much for their imaginations to handle.

Ghana played some spectacular football today and it was a well deserved win. I hope the USA at least gets first class seats on Air "Got my Ass Kicked" back to the States, as opposed to the French who sadly were relegated to economy after their dismal showing. I mean, coming from a country so much larger than Ghana in every way, shape and form, except on the field, this is the least they can do.

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You just cannot please black people

You just cannot please people and if I was aiming to please people I would have gone crazy by now. First it was

- You putting on some size.
- You getting fat, girl.

Now it's

- What happen to you? You stressed? How you getting small so?
 You're not looking your usual rosy self.

Seriously?? lol.

I am not the most patient person. I attribute my road rage to this lack of patience. I also attribute fitness frustrations to this lack of patience. You watch shows like Celebrity Fit Club and see these fat celebs losing like 15 pounds in a week and you want to lose 15 lbs in a week too. But I know I hate diets that tell me I have to eat 3 Crix a day and a carrot for lunch and nonsense like that. And I do not have a personal trainer on contract, though I have one on speed dial, because I know my schedule and it is best not to set up busy people on days when I cannot help if I have to work late. So if it takes me a month to lose those 15lbs, or maybe 2 months, it's good for me and how I live. I have come to terms with this reality.

I have no idea if I have lost 5 or 15, because I still believe the scale is an evil, evil device, but my pants are no longer screaming at the seams and I don't have to buy new clothes because what I own now don't fit anymore, thank God. And I am not craving anything bitterly. If I want a cheese puff, I go buy a cheese puff. Okay, maybe three and not just one. But I just don't overdo the bakery love and I am trying my best not to eat on the run, which is my problem. I am used to having meals in the car, on the road, speeding to some destination. That's not healthy at all. And I am a bit more disciplined with my gym sessions. Not the best, because I said I would go yesterday after the ice cream dinner the night before (eating on the run) and I did not go because I was dead tired (was in bed by 7pm), but better than before, which was going "never" a week. But I was up at 3.45 on a Saturday and on the way to the gym to make up for yesterday's dismal showing, even though I felt sick as hell this morning. So I do well to make things right. For a few months, I did not care and though I knew I was a brown dumpling, I was too tired to be bothered. But between mean, farse Trinis and their "you think it helps, but it doesn't" comments and tight clothes...lol...I just decided it was time to stop the foolishness and here I am, stopping it.

And I am happy, which is the most important thing. I don't want to be skinny. I will never be skinny. I was born to be bootylicious and curvy. I just want to be comfortable and healthy and feel like my usual hot self. Well, I always feel hot, so I guess I mean, hotter. That's it.

I also have a slice of chocolate cake in the fridge. Oh yes. C-A-K-E. Not a carrot. Not sugarless rice cakes. But an honest to goodness slice of Puff n Stuff chocolate cake which I intend to share with the mum during the football later. Yeah...what you gonna say about it??

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How busy high heeled days derail diets

Yesterday was just one of those high heeled days, when you're sitting suffering in your office, waiting for approvals so you can send stuff out and go home to get some food and a shower. I called my mother ahead of time and asked her to pick up a soup from my fave cafe in the second city, but she did not think my soup was important enough apparently. This left me with very little options when I did manage to leave the office at 7.30pm. Having missed gym sessions on two days straight this week because of work, I was not feeling the BK/KFC/Pizza Hut options. But I knew it was one of these or sure starvation, so decided I would jump in the car and make up my mind when I got there.

This was the final decision. Sorry for the fuzzy photo, but hunger is serious and I was sitting in the carpark hoping noone jacked me, my car, my Berry and most importantly, MY DINNER!!!!

My reasoning for this was simple.

1. If I am going to stuff my body with calories, it might as well be  via Coldstone ice cream
2. If I was going to stuff my body with calories, it might as well be via oil free, non-acne causing Coldstone ice cream
3. If I was going to stuff my body with calories, it might as well be via yummyColdstone ice cream, which for a lactose intolerant person is basically like being bulimic. lol.

So that was dinner. I just wanted to say though that I wish more international franchises like this one, would set up shop in Trinidad. Why? The level of service they expect is reflected in the way the staff interact with customers. It was a refreshing change to be greeted with a smile and kind words. As opposed to when I went to have passport sized photos taken earlier this week and the woman's mouth stretched out from her face to across the street, as though I was begging her to climb Everest barefoot. And note I said Trinidad and not Tobago cause honestly, I don't think anything can help customer service in Tobago, except maybe Jesus.

So kudos to the staff at Coldstone Creamery in Price Plaza, even the nice ice cream assistant (dunno what the right term is) who tried to fatten me up with all kinda mixings and toppings. I had to say no. My diet had been derailed enough with just the ice cream. But it did not stop him from pouring fudge sauce and chocolate chips in my yummy French Vanilla ice cream and yummy waffle cone pieces. Okay, I will stop now. But come hell, high water or overtime, I WILL be at the gym this evening.

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Beach Boys Strike Again

So after a LOT of pulling and tugging with one particular department, which shall remain nameless, I finally got the last of my documentation to go apply for my visa today. I was vex like Rex eh cause after weeks of waiting, of course my budget has now taken a hit cause of course the airfare has now gone up and I still have to wait to see if I get the so and so visa. I have a mind to send an invoice for the additional spend to the people who kept me back so long! But God is good, yes.

So I mosey on over to the Embassy and I was thinking I would be a quick 5 minutes and then be outta there! Had to take...wait for it...public transportation ...cause of the suckage of POS and its no parking and when yuh tief a park, by the time you come back, your car is gone and you have to go hunt it down in the Savannah. That taxi was another story, with the nasty sweaty man who throw his whole fat, big bellied, sweaty self on the brown skin I took my time to lather with Bath and Body Works body wash this morning. But I digress.

Well, I made two very important observations:

1. Trinis have money. When you see them on the tv protesting for salary increase and talking about how their chile cyah eat cause they cannot buy bread - a lie. Because travelling to Europe is not cheap, so I was expecting an empty room or at least 2-3 people. I was NOT expecting to have to stand up after walking in the hot sun, because all the chairs were taken. And as an aside, I also observed that Trini men have no damn manners cause yuh think one of the men sitting on the plush blue chairs would have offered me, obviously hot and frazzled, a seat so I could unfrazzle myself? Think again. I watched one of the men rock back and close his eyes as if to block out the fact that a woman was there standing. I watched him so hard I think his brain must have started to burn. In any event, I did not expect the unwashed masses in the place, that's for sure.

2. With the exception of one family - a dad, his wife and his 2 daughters - it was beach boy fever in there. The one thing about the place is that the conversation between you and the visa officer is not private so when the lady asked the 3 men, including Mr Rock Back, where they going and/or how they met the girlfriend they were going to visit/travel with, the answer was a hattrick - I met her in Tobago when she was on vacation.

So in case you were wondering where the hot spot is for picking up island men, then come on down. And men, if you're looking for a sugar mama to take you on free vacations, put you on their insurance plan so you can travel, and you see Europe 3 times a year even though you may not have a job, then jump on a plane to Tobago. I know it happens elsewhere, but I cannot speak for the rest. I would be farse and bright to do so.

But yes, the "brotha" in the chair could not be bothered with the tired "sista" standing in the corner, cause he was running his nashy fingers through the blondeness of the woman pawing at him in most nauseating fashion. That's why I snickered when he was called to the counter and refused a visa, cause he thought he had it made. And then he kept back productivity by trying to show his true colours in the people place by arguing with the visa officer. Oh gosh, behave yourself!

But I also noticed and I now realise I am on observation #4, that some of these women could not compete with the likes of me (modest I know) and wondered, what on earth...??? I mean...nashy!!! But as they say, every rat has its mouldy cheese and the place was stink of ole cheese.

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It's my black hair that keeps me curvy!!!

Going to the gym takes a special type of commitment. I am usually tired, so that's the first thing.

The next thing is to get to my gym I pass my turnoff for home. It only takes one sharp bad drive to the left and maybe some cuss words from some fellow fat motorist to get me off the beat me up path and onto the path to salvation aka home. There have been a few days (count Mon, Wed, and Thurs of last week) where I made the necessary bad drive from the fast lane (as we call it here) to the lane to make the turnoff to my couch.

Then I go to a very popular gym, with all the teeny bopper girls whose main purpose in life is either to see or be seen. I don't mind you doing what makes you happy off your membership fee, but when you crowd up the gym, hog the equipment to chat with boys and keep me back from whittling away my hips, then I have a serious serious problem with your extracurricular activities.

And then I also remembered a conversation I had with a dude last year at a conference in New York. My fellow Bajan PR superstar and I were the only black women at the table. You know this was deliberate that we sat together - but it was just a bonus that she was from the Caribbean as well. This bright American dude of Anglo-Saxon descent, then comes to our table to tell us he is writing a paper. On what you ask?

Black women, weight and hair.

It was his observation, from talking to other black women (so he say) that black women shun the gym because they don't want to sweat and ultimately sweat out their perm or their weave. He was saying this all with the straightest of faces. Now while the dude was probably right, and we will get to this, ummm...I don't know you and you're suggesting I am fat? lol. No no...he says. But he wanted to know if I avoided the gym to safeguard my expensive salon job. The question therefore really was would I prefer to be fat with great hair, or skinny with jacked up hair?

You know he was still waiting for an answer. Ms Barbados was not feeling him either with his farseness and out of order line of questioning and I could tell the white women at the table were wishing he would just leave as well. He took the hint real quick.

But to answer the question, unlike Caucasian type hair, washing black hair after the gym if say you go in the morning, requires great skill, equipment and hair products. It's not a wash and wear kinda thing, especially if you have locks or a weave. THIS requires a trip to the salon or a neighbour with salon skills. Thus I now go in the evening, in case you were wondering why (plus the other hassle of walking with clothes and makeup and sharing showers with nasty women who insisted on showing off ALLLLLLL their junk before and after a shower was not at all appealing anymore).

Would I prefer to be fat and have Pantene commercial type hair? No. Do black women avoid the gym because of the hair issues? I don't know. I certainly don't. I go to the salon on Saturday and may take a day on Monday but it's business as usual in the sweatshop on Tuesday. I avoid the gym for all the other reasons listed above. My gym has a lot of black women who work out hard, sweat a lot and they keep coming back -perms, dreads, weaves, braids, screwballs, you name it, we've got it. I don't know about American women, but Trini women seem to be fine with it, mister. And when was the last time he looked at say the Olympics? Ever noticed your American female athletes? They did not win medals cause they were scared of messing up their hair. Maybe they won via other means (ahem), but the hair did not hold them back. Female track athletes are some of the swankiest athletes out there. Steups. And once you ladies wash it and keep that from smelling like ole socks, I am fine with it as well.

But I still hate trying to find new ways of making the treadmill or stepping on an elliptcal for an hour exciting. Although, there is a dude who now thinks he can compete with the elliptical master and tries to keep up with my faster than a speeding bullet pace and hold perfect sexy form for the full hour. After 35mins I was alone again. Loser.

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Life in fluffy socks

It's a cold and wet Sunday - just the way I love it. I have been doing some kitchen stuff - doing some sexy things with some chicken and some veggies.

Sure they don't look so sexy there to you, but add some chicken in mushroom sauce, and some stir fried sweet peppers and onions, and they are a girl's best friend.

Had a day out with the mum yesterday. I have not shopped for new clothes in a while and thought it would be good to make a girls' day out of it. It's good to take the mum with me because though our styles are way different, she knows what looks good on me and what doesn't. I tried on a blouse that I thought may have worked on me but my reflection did not agree. Neither did the mum. Her words: It's not you.

Mums know.

We got a Father's Day gift for the dad as well and all is well in the world. Of course, days like Father's Day where the cooking is a must, the threats to the waistline are immense. There was a macaroni pie on the counter when I woke up that has claimed victory after my failed attempts at resistance. But considering that I went out yesterday and did not have any takeout (I had a honey wheat pesto chicken wrap), no dessert, no sugary drinks, I think some cheesey pasta decadence is permissible. Plus I have veggies for the rest of the week.

Yesterday was a busy one so when the gym alarm went off this morning at 4.35am, and I heard the pitter patter of raindrops on my window, forgive me calorie gods for rolling over and pulling the blanket over my head and going back to sleep until 9.00am. I was tired and you don't know how tired you are until you surrender your body to the exhaustion.
Hope everyone had a good day with the dads, and the mums who dad duty when the dads are not around.

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Furry love and two-legged cruelty

I am the girl who cries during that ASPCA commercial, seeing those abused animals. I am the girl who cried during Marley and Me. So this video to me was revolting and upsetting (warning: it's pretty vile and disturbing and I myself cannot watch the entire thing). And it speaks to not only how animals are treated by some people, how the local auhtorities don't regard atrocities such as this as important, but it also speaks to a lot of the social issues inherent in this society that our systems are not addressing adequately, if at all. Clearly this young man has some problems, and the person taping this nasty episode, some words for you - you're not much better.

I hope somehow this youth can be located, because the issues that need addressing run deeper than just abusing a poor stray kitten.

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I can never write a cookbook, but I CAN cook!

Thanks T&TEC, after I carefully selected my ingredients in my neighbourhood Hi-Lo*, for spoiling what was supposed to be an awesome night of culinary therapy. I was in the middle of cutting veggies to put into the steamer, to go along with the simply devastating chicken I had in the oven, and some Indian influenced peas, when ....boom...darkness. I was so vex! And power never came back, so I had to literally tote my bedroom with me this morning, including my iron so I would not look disheveled and rumpled. I had no choice but to finish my peas by candlelight and BOIL (ugh) my carrots because manual steaming was just going to take too long. I was already late...having to rummage for my life in the dark.

Thanks T&TEC!!! Thanks!

Though it was too dark to photograph my chicken in its just finished, bubbly glory, I thought I would just share my last minute creation with you. As the blog title suggests, I am not good with metrics, so go with God if trying this recipe. Note this is a bachelorette kinda dish, meaning it was a serving of one, so the metrics listed are for same. If you have husband, man, chile or spoilt four legged creatures, you will need more chicken and thus more of everything else.

Diva Chicken Curry (even though technically there is no curry in it)

You will need:

Chicken - whichever cuts are your favourites.
Cumin, or geera (ground) - whichever name suits your fancy
Garlic, grated - as much as your tastebuds can stand. I love garlic!
Chopped tomatoes
1 tsp Tomato ketchup
1 tsp olive oil or as Rachael Ray would say EVOO
2-3 tsps coconut milk powder - just for flavour. Coconot milk is fattening!!!
Fresh green seasoning or if you're lazy, the seasoning in the bottle from Hi-Lo. I used both!
Salt and black pepper to taste

1. Season your chicken with your green seasoning. Rub chicken with ground cumin and let stand.
2. Mix your coconut milk powder with 7-8 tbsp of hot water
3. Add garlic, black pepper, tomatoes, salt and ketchup to coconut milk.
4. Grease baking dish with olive oil and place your chicken in dish.
5. Pour your coconut milk mixture over the chicken
6. Cover dish with foil and bake at (it was too dark to see the temperature) for 1 hour.
7. I am having my chicken with (what was supposed to be steamed) carrots, and masala lentils. Lunch of a high heeled, albeit disgruntled champ!

The chicken was a winner though. I topped myself...even in the dark! If you do try it, even with the mangled instructions, let me know how it comes out.

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Boys and Beans

Cooking after a long day at work, and then after sitting another couple hours in traffic is a real buzzkill, when all you want to do is take a shower, and get snuggly. It's no wonder I don't yet have a husband and some brown kids, because they would starve and be dead...or worse...be put to work in the kitchen! But I came home and if I am to stick to a healthy lunch tomorrow, I am going to have to cook it myself, or risk eating some bacteria infested junk from the food courts in Port of Spain. Luckily I steamed enough veggies last night so I just need to cook some peas. But oh,  I am tired. This World Cup will be the death of me. Any rest I should have gotten this weekend went up in a poof of football smoke. I watched all 3 games yesterday and missed the Sunday afternoon nap and still went to bed after 10, so yeah...not bubbly smurf or Iron Chef smurf at the moment.

But as an aside, though they will most likely not win the World Cup, especially after the beating they took yesterday, I just want to congratulate the Australian team for being such a good looking, well dressed bunch. Your kits were unique, stylish and sexy.

So I opened a tin of peas. Just a small note to Happi - I was not happy after opening this can, because it specfically said light red kidney beans, which is what I specifically wanted because they cook better and more importantly, faster. These beans were NOT light red. If I get to bed late because of these dark red beans, I want my money back!

I enjoy cooking but it has been a long time since I put down a spread. These days I mostly cook for myself and then it's quick and easy things and if I am lucky, a one pot meal. Soups are easiest. No mess, no stress. Dinner today was a pop in the microwave (in this case, pop in the pot to boil cause still gots no microwave) 4-minute Nissin noodle meal. Life saver, lemme tell you. I can look past the MSG and sodium on days like this. Reminds me of my university days - one pot meals and microwave dinners. Not the most exciting meals but when you wake up at 3.20am, they are the most convenient. I have also not had a manicure or facial in months, so it's sufferation right across the board.

Maybe I will decompress this weekend with some cooking. Some damn it to hell, beatdown, put me in house cooking! And football...let's not forget the football.

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It ain't easy being Green

So the big game was today. The Mighty Lions were taking on the team from the USA, the "soccer" nation. The game eventually ended very disappointingly, with the USA pulling back a goal with the help of the English goalkeeper, Robert Green, who clearly was thinking about getting some tonight instead of thinking about holding on to the damn ball. This goal hopefully will not be his legacy.



Need a still?

Another? Yep. This dude will probably not be sleeping very well tonight. It ain't easy being Green.

But another disturbing component of this game was the USA kit. I swear, they just needed to step up and go "I am Carlos Bocanegra. Miss USA...or...umm...Mr USA." What's the beauty pageeant sash like stripe about? Very not cool for a bunch of burly football men. Their red kit is the same style, with a blue sash.

But thankfully Becks kept it manly and sexy.

The Argentines thankfully pulled off a win this morning so my Saturday, which was adjusted, swapping shopping and wine bar, for leftovers and football, was not a total bust. Diego Maradona looks pretty good for a man who has been to crack and back.

Habib Bellaid plays with Algeria tomorrow (Kay, are you ready?), so the eye candy moment would be during that game. But the Germans also play tomorrow so I am in full football loving mode then. And I am now, with the excitement of one Habib-esque guy, in full vacation countdown mode as well.

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The Men of the World Cup, for the ladies

So the World Cup kicks off today and though I am a true football fan, I am also a woman and I have girlfriends who don't care about the game or formations or goals. Just the players. Just some hot hard body, so different from the beer bellied signifcant other next to you on the couch, and the best part is - he is too wrapped up in the game to see you drooling. So here are some of the players you ladies should look for over the next month.

Though I am NOT a USA fan, this dude is hot. Carlos Bocanegra. Sweet Lord...where can I get one?

The Italian skipper...my man. Mmm. Fabio Canavarro. (yummy)

Another hot Italian. Lord have mercy. Claudio Marchisio.

The Algerians are WELL represented by this chocolate decadence. Habib Bellaid. Thanks Kay. He is so cute. Nah dread...he sweet.

From the Spanish side, Cesc Fabregas. Love how that name just rolls off the tongue too. Fabregas.

He kinda looks like 12, and is not too far from it, but he's cute still. Gregory Van der Wiel of the Netherlands. My inner cougar is roaring.

Youann Gourcruff will kick off for the Les Bleus.

After some resistance, I have decided to add pretty boy Thierry. The Frenchman would do better to play fairly during this tournament though.

From Team Ghana, and for Bingi, Kevin Prince Boateng.

The Brazilians, thank God, have Kaka. Ronaldinho is great but he will not be missed by the female gapers.

I am not too enthralled by him, and I think he is too cocky, but the women seem to love him. Portugal's Cristiano Ronaldo.

And he shall be missed. Becks!

Who would you add to this list?

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Channelling my inner leopard

I think the 2010 mascot for the FIFA World Cup is so hot. I dunno, but Zakumi the footballing leopard reminds me of myself. Don't you think? Spunky, loads of attitude and of course, loves football. I think South Africa did really well to have a fun and likeable mascot where other mascots have crashed and burned.

Reeeeeeeally trying to channel my inner Zakumi this week but it has been a struggle. Still battling a bit of a cough but much much better today. I think old age may be getting the best of me because I used to boast in my blue-skied youth that I never got things like the common cold or flu. This is the second or third time in recent months that I have been sick. Adulthood bites. The stresses and frustrations of work and the hustle of a life crammed into one short weekend have done me in and here I am - a slave to the Theraflu and romancing the pillows early o'clock. The meds were also doing strange things to my stomach and talk about feeling drabulous. Add some other big people life issues and the week has not been a winner. But thank God for World Cup and the England vs USA game this weekend because life seems sunny once more. It's why I suggest that adults also love mascots and shit like sports because we can celebrate that inner child that seems to be suppressed and maimed by the ins and outs of daily and sometimes crappy adult life. But in the end, God is great and things happen as they should. So onward we go. Zakumi, the world and me.

And hey, the leopard and I have one other thing in common. We rock the cat print! Told you, spunky and lots of attitude.

In case you're a fan like me, someone pointed me to this awesome WC calendar. And in case you were confused, I will be supporting England in that match.

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An early Saturday

The weekend was not supposed to be like this. I think maybe I am running around too much cause it is very rare that I get a cold and with such annoying symptoms. For the past 3 days I have been at the gym promptly at 5, and I made an evening run last night which I am sure effed up my sinuses. But the jeans are a little looser...small price to pay.

But feeling so terrible, I knew I would be a danger to small children and unsuspecting adults, so I hustled to make the 11am showing of SATC2. To my girlfriends, thanks for nothing. To my diehard friend, P, a MAN, thanks for being my rock star!

Can I first just say I absolutely love 11am shows? No screaming kids, no annoying people standing gazing at the rows of seats trying to decide where to sit, all the while blocking your view. No canoodlers, i.e. those annoying couples who clearly don't understand that kissing and all the rest are to be done in your house. Just bliss. When P and I walked in, the place was deliciously empty. If my nose was not so stuffy, I would have run through the aisles in glee. To the dude who came alone and sat down and watched the movie with no shame - kudos to you. To the other 20 people there who turned their cell phones off and enjoyed the movie without being annoying - kudos.

I personally loved the movie. Loved it. I get the reviews and yes, it won't win an Oscar, but Samantha was back - something that was missing from SATC1. Crude, crass, sex obsessed Sam was back and in ripping form. Oh God...Dick Spurt...could he have been any hotter? And Anthony's brother? The sex was back! Thank you God.

Some of the fashion again - questionable. Like I did not get the weird hat Carrie wore as best man. What was that? But I loved her J'adore Dior t-shirt and want one! There were some great fashion moments though. And the delicious shoes!

And I never thought I would say this: Liza Minelli rocked Beyonce. Yes, she did! She did!

No spoilers here but I give the movie an A for entertainment. It's an early Saturday cause I popped a couple TheraFlu drowsy formula caplets about half hour ago and that should knock me out for the next few hours. But it was a good Saturday (complete with a new blouse cause you cannot watch SATC and not be inspired to go buy something new and hot, can you?)

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I do in fact read the news

Before there was ever Samantha Jones, my hero, there was Blanche Devereaux and it was with great sadness I read that Rue McLanahan, the actress who brought Blanche into our homes had passed away. I loved that show. Though I am not like my dad who still watches the re-runs for like the millionth time, an episode of Golden Girls always made me laugh. I always had an appreciation for the uninhibited Blanche - for making pensioners sexy and for showing women that sex does not end with babies. You can be sexy and desirable way past 50 and keep the young girls hoppin'. Awww....RIP Blanche.

So on days off, I have a rare luxury - reading the paper and 2 things repulsed me immensely in the news.

1. A man killed himself here yesterday, apparently via hanging. Did the Newsday really need to show the photo of the man's body swinging from the rope? I don't care that it was printed on an inside page. It's just another example of this paper taking liberties with people's emotions and tastes. It was in poor taste.

2. This dude who was and still is a suspect in the disappearance of Natalee Holloway is now a suspect in the murder of a young girl in Peru. Why is this guy still breathing in the free world? I hope now authorities will have evidence to put this dude away forever...if they can ever find him now. edit: Just reading the news, and they got him. Time for this psycho to get what's due to him.

My holiday has been quiet this far. I could not believe how many people were at the gym this morning. I would have thought people would be wrapped up under the sheets with their husbands or wives, but no...they were at the gym on a holiday. Of course, this could mean that these are the single people but if so, then God help single women across the country.

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When Technology Fails...

My laptop at work has been on the fritz for days now. It's maddening because I cannot think of anything that I do that does not require the use of my laptop. This technology thing is really debilitating if you think about it. Luckily for my sanity the only thing that seems to work on it is the internet, hence this entry. Nothing else. So while I waited for IT to try to sort me out and restore productivity, I decided to take a walk into the city centre.

Bad idea. Always a bad idea. First the sun was raging hot, and no matter how cute you may look to others, you know the personal discomfort you're feeling. Even with the ballet shoes, I did not enjoy the walk, the sun, the slow moving pedestrians in front of me, the smell.

Second, and Facebook friends will recognise this gem, as per yesterday afternoon's status update!

Yes. I walked to the bakery and got me some cheese puffs, which were supposed to be for the road to stave off maddening post-work, pre-gym hunger. I bought 5 and shamefully I will tell you now, I ate them all already. lol. There is a reason I don't go to that bakery. That little carb demon between my fingers is the reason. But it is now added motivation to shake off fatigue and get my puff loving ass to the gym later. Good thing they are bite sized, but why did I buy 5? Sounded like a nice round number.

Thirdly...oh God. The horror. I took a walk through some of these downtown shops and was reminded why I don't shop downtown. Can someone tell me if leopard print tights are in fashion? Because they were everywhere - and not just leopard, but tiger and other jungle creature prints. I had seen that girl who was trying to find Chilli a man in a pair or jungle tights and in her case it was especially horrific as you can see below.

I did find a really gorgeous black print (non-cat print) dress, but between the bag of puffs in my hand, my reluctance to do the whole trying on clothes thing and the fact that I have other clothes priorities right now, in which that particular swanky dress does not fall, I left it on the rack. If it's meant to be, it will be there the next time I go in there. Whenever that is.

But as I end this post, I just got an envelope from HR and wow...I got something I only requested late yesterday afternoon. I think I need to reward my trusty HR officer with an order of cheese puffs! If only the envelope had come just 20 mins earlier, I could have rewarded her and saved myself the calories. Or maybe not.

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One other thing about P90X

I just want to go back briefly to my Friday experience with my P90X DVD. I really have to give BIG kudos to whoever came up with the concept for the Polymetrics DVD. What's so special about it you ask? Well, there were 2 test group guys - 2 regular guys. But one of them had a prosthetic leg. I totally applauded him for being such a fitness star and not letting it hinder his physical activity. But lemme tell you, superstar or not, when I felt the burn, I said to myself, If this dude with one leg can do this ish, why am I sitting, breathing hard on my fitness ball? Nah man. He inspires a new and special kinda shame in you that you just HAVE to pick yourself up and push til the end. I know without a doubt if the one-legged dude was not in that DVD, I would have hit the Stop button after the warm up. lol. I cannot remember his name now but thanks buddy.

The gym was a total zoo yesterday. I guess everyone who could not be bothered to go over the long weekend thought it would be a good idea to try to work off the chips and beers from the various long weekend activities. I hate going to the gym when it is that crowded and I was not a happy camper. Especially when this one woman and her trainer thought it would be cool to do her personal training, which required her to go from machine to machine after a set. I am there, sitting on the hip adductor machine, pushing weight, and she comes up to ask me if I am almost finished. WTF! No, I am not. Oh, she wants to do her set. How is that my problem? I started to wonder if I had free membership and was at the mercy of paying members or something. She stayed there and stood over me, almost rushing me to get off. I was annoyed to say the least. Do this kinda thing when the gym is empty, not when everyone else is jamming you up for equipment. I mean, I try to be considerate and not take extended breaks when I know other people are waiting, but she was just ridiculous and annoying. She just had to wait, and that was that. I had an obligation to my hips that I had to keep.

Today is my last work day for the week. Can I get a woot!woot!?

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One month later

Gym membership is due today. After a month, I still don't look like Tyra but there has been some change. I have long since done away with scales because I truly believe they are evil devices. Instead I use clothing as a benchmark. For example, the reason the outfit I am wearing today came about (cute shirt with a knit vest) was because the shirt was fantastically tight one morning (I mean TIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!), and the vest was aimed at covering the gut and the busting-out-ness. This morning I still wore the vest cause I liked how the shirt and vest looked together, but I did not need the vest at all. In fact I was looking for a cute belt to accessorise the shirt, but had no time so stuck with the vest. So things are happening. I steamed and then roasted some chicken last night, cooked some peas and made a veggie and whole wheat pasta salad, minus the mayo. No celery sticks and cucumber lunches here. I keep the inspiration alive with this fantastic image of myself in a few weeks, walking off British Airways flight whatever, sashaying through Immigration with the dude waiting for me with open arms - and I am sashaying. Not waddling. Well, I never waddle...but you know what I mean.

No woman likes weight gain, unless you actually need to put some weight on, and I have had some luggage stop me from living (albeit briefly) a couple times. I met an old friend a couple weeks ago and invited her out and she said she was not really socialising much (what she meant to say was AT ALL) because she did not want people to see how fat she had gotten. Add no job to this and this is a true recipe for depression and disaster. But at least she is making efforts on both fronts. And women can be brutal. Even though you may recognise that you have added some roughage to the hips and thighs, no woman wants reminding of the fact. Nothing is as annoying as "You're putting on weight" or "Look how fat you got!" Really? I am? Wow...did not know this.

I mean, it's the first thing any woman notices. Too-tight pants and shirts that cannot button are not signs of starvation. We know when we are packing it on so no need to remind us, thanks. This is most likely the reason my friend does not want to go out and do things she normally would have done - because of the comments and the stares and advice from not so well meaning women about not drinking soda and juice, and not eating after 6 etc. It's hard enough trying to get it off, but to have to deal with silly people always talking about it like there is nothing else going on with you besides the L.Bs is just downright difficult.

But my favourite saying ever, courtesy of my girlfriend is Weight you can lose. Ugly and dotish (stupid) are for keeps. Stuck it on my mirror for good measure...just in case I need to remind anyone.

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