Bathing Suit Saga

Posted on May 18, 2012 by Melinda

 

Lover and I are planning a little getaway.  A little couple time.  A little vacay, to eat too much and drink too much.  And hotel sex.

Unfortunately the subject of lounging by the pool is inevitable.  You know what happens when you lounge by the pool?  You wear a bathing suit.  I’m having an anxiety attack just thinking about it.  Every trip Mike and I take I promise myself I’ll pack it.  Every trip I pack for, as I’m counting my pairs of clean panties and putting toiletries in ziplock bags I have every intension of packing the stupid bathing suit.

I’ve bought cover-ups, I’ve had pedicures, I’ve loofa-ed.  But still, it stays in the drawer. Sobbing.  Or maybe that’s me.

The other day I was trying to talk myself into packing it.  I thought maybe if I took it out of the drawer and looked at it.  Maybe even try it on.  Didn’t want to get too crazy, but maybe.  As I was looking at it, I couldn’t help but feel it looked familiar.  Of course that could have just been the crazy in my head, the anxiety attack that was moments away.

I bit the bullet and put it on, and it occurred to me why it was so familiar.

I bought Beth a suit that looked very similar.  When she was 3.

So basically, I look like a fat toddler.

Now, I have a new plan.  I’m going to buy another bathingsuit.  Don’t tell Lover that the first one cost about $85 and I’ve never worn it.  He doesn’t need to know.

In forming my new plan I googled, because that’s what you do when you make a plan.  I googled body image, bathingsuits for the self esteem challenged, I looked for inspiration in accepting what is.  I decided that I would do the most logical thing.

I’m going to get drunk.

 

 

 

 

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Cake Walk

Posted on May 6, 2012 by Melinda

 

We had a little birthday get together for my Dad’s birthday last week.  I served sandwiches, his favourite food.  I think he was a little nervous coming for dinner, when he turned 50 I had a ‘One Step Closer to Death’ party.  He wasn’t amused.  We all wore black and called ourselves ‘mourners’.  Decorations were black streamers and balloons, dead twigs in vases.  I ordered a cake in the shape of a tombstone.  The bakery wasn’t going to fill my order, they said I was ‘mean.’  *whatever*  He has one of the BIG birthdays next year.  *insert evil laugh*

I didn’t take any pictures.  I did however get a fabulous story,  a recounting of the sistas trip to North Carolina.  She had a wonderful time.  Now, I may fracture this story a little but I’m going to tell it to the best of my memory.  Seems the sista was told that storms on the ocean were pretty amazing.  As luck would have it she got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and a storm was coming in.  She put on her glasses and went to the window to look out but was having a terrible time seeing anything.  Going back to bed she looked at her digital clock but was having trouble seeing the numbers, thinking her glasses were dirty she rubbed them but didn’t find this to improve her vision.  Now she’s getting concerned!  There was something wrong with her vision, and just as she was about to seek medical help for spontaneous blindness she realized she had put on her sunglasses.

*disclaimer-if any of these facts are incorrect my family is welcome to set the record straight in the comments section, the retelling of this story is as recalled after having 2 glasses of wine.*

 

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Winging It

Posted on May 4, 2012 by Melinda

 

When I was driving Beth to work the other night the windshield became a death field of what I thought at the time were cicadas.

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t.  Turns out, they were butterflies!

 

Apparently they are Red Admiral Butterflies.  I discovered some enjoying the sun and flowers in the yard.

 

 

 

 

From what the paper said they are migrating, unfortunately they were using the highway, which turned out to be a suicide mission.  Rest in peace fluttering travellers.

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Professing my Love for the Biker Chick

Posted on April 25, 2012 by Melinda

I went back to the biker chick to get a hair cut today.  It was time.  With my hair hanging in my face, my jowls continuing to drop from gravity, menopause, and weight gain I was starting to look like a basset hound.

I have had to come to terms with the fact that thebiker chick and I are now in a relationship.  Its official, if I go to another hair stylist I’ll be cheating on her.  I’m at the point now that I’m afraid to risk going to another stylist, what if they do a really bad job? At least with the biker chick I know that my hair will be a little uneven.  She doesn’t criticize my choice of shampoo,  marvel at my split ends, or roll her eyes at my attempts to colour my own hair.  She remembers my name.  My previous Doctor, delivered all three of my children, had intimate knowledge of my lady parts, and still did not remember my name, while holding my medical records.

I think the biker chick is growing in our relationship too.  She doesn’t have a mullet anymore.

 

 

 

Previous adventures with the Biker Chick;

A Little off the Top…Watch My Jugular 

Yea, Though I Walk Through the Valley of Bad Haircuts

 

 

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Menopause and Me

Posted on April 23, 2012 by Melinda

 

I am in menopausal hell.

It’s taken me a while to figure out that the reasons I’m tired, sweaty, absent minded, and growing a moustache. Mood swings however don’t seem to be a problem and Lover has confirmed that I’m not actually moody, but that could just be the fear talking.  I also may just be a bitch so no one would notice mood swings.  I’m putting my money on the latter.

The weight gain I’ve experienced has been the biggest blow to my psyche.  I’ve decided however, to embrace my rolls, celebrate my double chin.  Cellulite?! Who cares!   I couldn’t type that with a straight face, let alone ask someone to read it.

Yesterday I went shopping for clothes.  My theory is that if I get my hair cut, have my nails done and wear something pretty I won’t focus on how fat I am.  Just don’t take my picture.  Lover has committed to taking my scale and hiding it, Beth is going to be the only person who knows where it is.  Just in case he dies in a fiery crash and I can’t find it.

Unfortunately now I’m afraid to take the new clothes I bought out of the bag.  I bought pants, a skirt and a couple of sweaters so I went to the stores website thinking I could see how they modelled the items.  How they accessorized, shoes, jewellery.  Well, that turned out to be a big freakin’ mistake.  They show the pants on a mannequin.  With a belt.  I’m pretty sure it’s a male mannequin.

I’m screwed.

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The Oban Inn, the Gateway to Culinary Embarrassment

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Melinda

Lover and I are known for our sojourns.  We venture out on a Saturday and see where the wind takes us, usually its lunch, sometimes golf or shopping.   We always end the day having enjoyed each others company and discovered something local whether it’s a great store or restaurant.

Yesterday, was not that day.  The Oban Inn is a historical Inn, in Niagara-On-The-Lake, Ontario.  Growing up in the area I had never had the pleasure of dining here.  I wish I still hadn’t had the pleasure.

The building is beautiful, when we first entered I felt like we may have found a gem, we were greeted at the door and escorted into the restaurant.  The staff was pleasant enough but when we said we did not have a lunch reservation there was a feeling like they were doing us a favour by seating us.  While we were waiting for our lunch a table of 4 was seated next to us, one of the guests asked if they could be seated by the window the server said No!  I was dumbfounded, and overhearing this table of 4 commenting on the menu and service I imagine they will not be returning.

The lunch menu was surprisingly rather provincial.  Mike had the fish and chips, which was grilled trout and fries, he found that one piece of fish was overdone and dry and the other was underdone.  Fries were cold and tasteless.  The server seemed offended that he didn’t want the homemade tartar sauce, but with a sensitivity to onions which was dismissed by the server he wasn’t going to risk eating it and feeling awful the rest of the day.  The tartar sauce was an odd colour and was not visually appealing.  I ordered a sourdough club sandwich.  This was the worst sandwich I have ever had.  The Chef should be embarrassed offering that in a fine dining restaurant.  It looked like a club sandwich you would find in a diner.  The bread looked like wonder bread, the chicken was dry, they burned the bread and hid it by turning the burnt side inward.  We couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough.

The Oban Inn should be embarrassed for not only poorly executed service but a menu that displays a lack of passion and competence in culinary skills.

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Oot and Aboot – Lazy Style

Posted on April 18, 2012 by Melinda

I haven’t posted anything in a long time.

I just haven’t felt like it.

I’ve been Oot and Aboot.

 

A book, rroll up the rim, I don’t usually win so I don’t have any recollection of this cup being a winner.  Dog sleeping, she usually has some pretty noxious gas.

 

This is Katie in her new shirt.  She wore it to school expecting some crap about it.  There wasn’t any. This prompted a twitter exchange with a certain nutbar who shall not be named but is known to protest at soldiers funerals.

 

 

She started this back and forth exchange asking this certain crazyperson ‘how she liked her shirt’

She didn’t.  Apparently.

 

 

My girl has cahones, I’ll give her that.

 

The restaurant Lover and I were in had some ecoutrement in the urinal.  Only in Canada would you find a hockey net.

 

 

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The Wind in the Welland Canal

Posted on March 4, 2012 by Melinda

 

Living steps from the Welland Canal has it’s pros and cons.  We get to see beautiful ships, and sailboats, marvel at yachts.  We endure dust and noise, but every so often we are reminded of the potential danger that exists.

This morning, in the strong wind a ship broke free from it’s moorings and slammed into another ship.  The canal is closed for the winter but there are ships docked along the canal.  The ship that was hit was docked on the other side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wind was so strong that I thought my camera would blow right out of my hands.  I changed my settings to auto and Mike let me brace myself against him.  I really didn’t think the pictures would be anything but blur with the camera shake.

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Reclaiming my Sass while Running Amuck

Posted on February 28, 2012 by Melinda

After my ‘aha’ moment from Day 2 in my quest to Reclaim My Sass I jumped into Day 3 with renewed vigour.  I haven’t been this motivated since the day my divorce became final.

Day 3    SKIP THE SUCKY PART  -  I admit I hesitated to use the wordy Sucky on the blog  because of past experience with search engines *shudder*.

So skip the sucky, whatever did the Queen of Sass mean?  She mentioned dessert and sprinkles, but I’m fairly certain they may have been metaphors.  Just to be sure I got a Skinny Cow ice cream bar (2 weight watchers points) and enjoyed every delicious, cold bite while I read Day 3.

Skip the Sucky part.

Jennifer says,  ‘One of the keys to reclaiming your sass is insisting that you have a joyful life.’

 I will be honest.  I chewed on this for most of the day.  What is a joyful life?  I started by writing the word JOY in my journal.  That’s as far as I got.  Believe me it’s not lost on me that the word is in block letters.  Empty block letters.

The conclusion I came to was to look at this page in my journal every day and write something on it that brings me joy.

Day 4 – Lower Your Standards

Lowering my standards.  My daily ‘to do’ list is not really that long, or aggressive.   Maybe by lowering my standards I need to change my routine.  Normally in the morning I have great plans to take a walk after I get a few things done around the house.  My morning routine involves being available to sign permission slips and cheer on the troops for a great day as everyone leaves for school and work.  I feed the dogs, drink a cup of coffee, read email, review my to do list.  After everyone is gone I will empty the dishwasher, put a load of towels in, strip the bed, shower, make a list for the grocery store, the small things that add up to a morning of busy.  Needless to say my walk goes to the back burner.

What if I change all that?  What if by lowering my standards I put myself first.  What if I take a walk in the morning?  What if I am not here to wave my pom poms before the math test.  What if I stop at the coffee shop and have a coffee there before coming home?

It’s suddenly occurred to me that while my standards have been lowered in a number of areas, the kids have always made their own lunches, been responsible for their own school books, gym clothes (I don’t deliver).  I’m coming to the conclusion that my attempts to be a quiet support in the background has really done nothing more than give me the illusion that I’m controlling from the sidelines.  What’s the worst that could happen with me not physically present in the morning while everyone does there thing?  Takes on their own day, working towards their dreams?  Nothing.  Nothing will happen, because I raised them to be responsible for themselves and they are doing just that.  They don’t need me to pat their little heads as they walk out the door, they are forging their own lives.  Chasing their own dreams.  Just as it should be.

 

 

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Relax with Sass

Posted on February 27, 2012 by Melinda

Every once and awhile you come across something on the internet that clicks for you.  A recipe that you can’t wait to try.  A blogger who makes you laugh.  Or cry.  A picture of a celebrity with cellulite that makes you feel a little better about your own dimply legs.  Or a blog that puts into words exactly what was on your mind.

The Summer of Me (now known as the Year of Me aka 50 before 50) started out as a way for me to try and put myself first in my life.  To not be at the beck and call of those around me, to nurture myself.  To move forward after a divorce and rediscover who I am.

I discovered a site called Life After Tampons, and the author Jennifer Boykin fostered some epiphanies in my mind.  She has an eRETREAT that you can download from her site that will talk you through rediscovering that thing you lost that you didn’t know you lost until you did.

So yesterday, the challenge was to relax.  I started off with good intentions.  Lover and I ventured out to Niagara Falls with my camera, the intent to relax, and take the day as it comes.  Day 2 of the eRETREAT and while I had a nice time with my husband I’ve come to realize that I didn’t do something that was relaxing to me.  I knew leaving the house we would end up at the casino, which I hate.  I hate the noise.  I hate the desperation of people gambling.  I hate the casino.  So why did I leave the house knowing full well that we would end up in the casino?  It was actually my suggestion.   I played the slots for a few minutes and settled in to try and understand what the draw of it is.  I put $40 in the slot machine and as I watched the digital numbers tick downward, the monotonous bells dinging around me, lights flashing, I realized that I was pushing the spin button waiting for the number to reach zero just so I could stop playing.  How stupid is that?

I’m going to qualify this by saying that I don’t mind going to the casino with my husband. He likes the casino, he isn’t spending my grocery money and  he likes the lights and bells and the thrill of chance.

Here’s the big but (not my butt, just the but), my intention yesterday was for ME to relax, to find a calming space in my mind and enjoy my day.  My husband would have happily shared in whatever I wanted to do, to spend time with me.  So why did I purposely choose something that I knew Lover would like to do?  Why did I settle for a couple of pictures of the falls and endure playing some slots?

Why?  Because I no longer have a clue as to what I like to do, and even if I did have an idea I would still put my people ahead of me.  I thought I was doing something rebellious yesterday.  Before any of the kids got up (I was up because I had to let the dogs out, feed the dogs, empty the dishwasher and put a load of towels in)  I escaped to continue my quest to learn how to use my camera and not make dinner.  This isn’t the first time I have abandoned dinner and let everyone fend for themselves, but it’s the first time I returned realizing I didn’t exactly accomplish what I set out to do.

Maybe this is where the beauty of following a 21 day path to reclaim my Sass is going to actually allow me to see success.

Another ‘aha’ moment.

I really do learn as much from my failures as my successes.  In failing I have succeeded?   That’s just Sassy itself isn’t it!

 

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