Misplaced Sympathy

You are all very sweet with your concern and such but I feel pretty guilty.

It's time to stop the denial and confront my personal demons/addictions head on. Once again, I'm hoping by making myself accountable to the whole Internet, I will be more accountable for my actions.

"My Name is Lil' Nana and I am an Ear Abuser". *sob*

It all began when I was a kid and my mom brought home a new grooming aid. I remember it as if it was yesterday.

There it was in it's beautiful blue box. It was all new and intriguing with a little drawer that seductively slid open to reveal row upon row of sterile cotton swabs. They were lined up, like little soldiers, waiting to do battle with any errant wax in my ears. Oh sure, there was a disclaimer on the box. Some nonsense about not inserting the swab into your ear. Isn't there a disclaimer on cigarettes too? None of the many helpful uses listed for the swabs included ear wax removal but we all knew what we were there for.

As I moved into puberty, I would employ many, many cotton swabs along with cotton balls soaked with Seabreeze, Bonne Bell Ten-O-Six lotion, Maxon cream and other grooming items. My skin was glowing and zit free. My ears were shining clean chalices fit to absorb every nuance of sound from the BeeGees, Fleetwood Mac and Wings.

I didn't recognize I was getting sucked in deeper even though a large part of my allowance was spent feeding my grooming habits. Soon I was spiralling out of control. I even used a safety pin to seperate my freshly mascaraed eyelashes for a while but the needle was not for me. I was into soft core.

When I married and got a Costco membership, I could buy huge DOUBLE boxes of cotton swabs. I used them on my children, on our various pets over the years and got WD to join me in my madness as she used them to apply makeup and remove nail polish from the skin on the sides of her hairy, Hobbit toes.

(Sorry WD for outing you but I feel I must purge this vileness in one go!)

With an unlimited supply of cotton swabs, I began cleaning my ears several times a day. After all, there were so many of them, 100's in each box. And I had 2 boxes! I got in deeper and deeper, trying to get to the imagined wax without actually puncturing my eardrum or touching my brain. If I couldn't have clean ears at all times, I felt I was nothing, a nobody. Self doubt and loathing consumed me.

Then, I started hiding a baggie of swabs in various spots so I could access them more easily. I had them in the silverware drawer, in my glove compartment, in my night table, in my desk at work, I even purchased a special travel size container to carry in my purse.

If I had stopped at abusing cotton swabs, I probably wouldn't be here before you, confessing today. I would still be coping with and managing my addiction. There were many years when I was a functional abuser. To the outside world I looked groomed and dare I say, somewhat normal, but inside I knew the awful truth. I needed one more swab, one more circle around the outer ear before sucumbing to my most base desires. There would be the oh, so satisfying, inner ear massage.
Oh, I lied to myself plenty, telling myself it would be the last time but then, inevitably, especially if it had been a while since the last time I used there would be a pay off. Yes, I said it. I loved getting a nice bit out of my ear and examining it. It was like a yellow, waxy reward. I would escalate to the point where I would run one end of the swab under the warm water while reserving the other end for drying just to experience the feeling one more time.

But soon, sadly, swabs, even wet swabs weren't enough. I began to stick random objects in my ears. Pens, pencils, tweezers, and yes, even at my lowest point my own car keys. I stopped swabbing in the privacy of my bathroom (and car with the invisible windows)...

I must digress. What is it with those people who pick their nose in their car? I mean, seriously. You are behind glass. We can see you! I hope you didn't pay extra for the NPP (nose picking in privacy) option because they seem to have mistakenly installed two-way glass. See your dealer for details.

I tried to talk about my problem with a couple of close friends. Janey was also an abuser although on an amateur scale. Penelope could not relate to me since when she was a child in Britain her doctor told her to never put "anything larger than an elephant" into her ear canal. Smarmy British Know It All. The doctor, not Penelope.

Nameless Man had resisted my attempts to ensnare him in my madness and went to his doctor for a wax flush from time to time. WD was horrified I would stick these filthy things into my ears. She was also perplexed I seemed to have hooked her youngest child on cotton swabs. His eyelashes would flutter in delight when I cleaned his ears. Oh, I recall that sweet innocence.

I felt alone, unworthy and dejected but I did have clean ears.

After a few minor earaches and then one bad trip where both ears ended up infected at the same time, WD staged an intervention which consisted of her booking me a doctor's appointment and telling me according to the 'net there is so a thing called cotton swab abuse. She told me so. And I bring this on myself. Oh, and to KNOCK IT OFF with the car keys. Especially when driving her car.

The doctor seemed less than surprised, diagnosed eczema in my ears and gave me drops. I tried to stay clean (without actually feeling clean) but I still have relapses from time to time. We don't bring cotton swabs into the house at all anymore. I was about 38 days clean and sometimes sober when I succumbed. Again.

This last relapse has been because I am cat sitting for a client and after being there I feel squwicky. He is a busy lawyer, living alone and he got custody of the two Persian cats in the divorce. He works long crazy hours and the kitties sit around his condo, growing out and then shedding mounds of fine Persian cat hair. I went and groomed them Sunday and hung out with them for an hour and then... when I got home....I rooted around in the bottom of my bathroom vanity drawers....until I found.... a old... overlooked....dirty...non sterile cotton swab.


You know the rest.

I am so ashamed.

If Mama Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy!

Okay, so I had one day without the running head cold that held me in it's death-like grip for a week. Like most illnesses, It wouldn't kill ya, just make you wish you were dead.

Then, I woke up in the night with a terrible earache. My ear canal is swollen and the swelling radiates into my jaw. I cannot talk except thru clenched teeth and I cannot chew. After fasting (not MY idea) all day, the Nameless Man brought me home some chili I couldn't eat and a frosty. Okay, 2 large frostys.

After one frosty and a suitable wait, he ran a cup of chili thru the blender and it was heavenly.

I love that man.

I will catch you up on all my madcap hijinx another day.

Oh, and Bag lLady, if you come and visit here, I need some MRI results if you are divulging... please.

Ch-Ch-Ch Changes

I'm back. Did you miss me? I missed you. What do you mean what did I bring you?

This was a slow weekend. We went to the Inlaws for dinner Saturday. I did the marinating and barbequeing of the steaks. We also brought dessert. WD made fabulous fried broccoli with feta as well as whipping up a batch of corn dogs. I love it when we're invited for dinner and expected to bring it, prepare it and then wash up afterwards.

My MIL has the habit of "inviting" us over for dinner and then when we get elbow deep in the dishwater, she will take apart her stovetop and clean the fridge out so we can do the washing up. She's been pulling this trick for 30 years and I'm pretty tired of it so I took a pass. Is that bad?

We were very bad girls and skipped the dish washing phase of our evening, preferring instead to focus on playing with WD's new KitchenAid mixer (squee !!). She carried it home like a trophy of war and promptly made bread and pastry dough yesterday morning. Today she is making cookies. This despite the fact she is sick with a head cold and humongous canker sores that are causing her all types of pain.

She was kind enough (Wonderful enough) to share her head cold germs and so I spent yesterday and today sitting back, resting and recuperating.

The Changes in the title are the business. We have decided to split up. That's right, WD and I will no longer be the Dynamic Duo. No longer will we be Partners in Grime (and not just because I refuse to stop calling us that despite her begging).

We are going to drop all the extra work we do and only keep our regular weekly or bi-weekly customers. I will manage the gals who provide their cleaning service and Wonderful Daughter will return to the outside work force on a part-time basis.
Without the monthly, 3 weekers and move -in/move-out business there isn't enough to comfortably support us both. So heigh-ho heigh-ho for WD.

I get the best of all this scenario. I get the good clients. I get the girls to deal with and I get JC as my buddy since I will run the biz from her home.

She will get her kids looked after by their crazy nana who thinks fart jokes are funny.
And, maybe some light housekeeping.
I might even play with her mixer and whip up something for dinner once in a while.

Bad Bad LeRoy Brown

and Fifth Sparrow. Both very, very bad.

But, for different reasons. I'm just a bad blogger. King Kong and the Junkyard Dawg are still badder than me.

I just don't have much to say. For those of you who know me IRL (In Real Life) I'm sure you just spewed something onto your keyboard if you happened to be sipping while reading. Before you cry, "Liar!" let me clarify. I meant I don't have much to say today.

Sometimes I go through these periods. Then I withdraw until a later time. So enjoy your peace and quiet while it lasts.

Oh, before I go, weigh in today was positive although I have already forgotten the numbers. They were good and there was joy in Mudville.

Effective Parenting Tools

My tried and true parenting methods never vary. They must be pretty darn effective too since I have raised a Wonderful Daughter.
#1 Son is still a work in progress...heh.

WD has been procrastinating on a very important job. (No, I don't know where she got that trait from!!) Taxes need to be done on a regular basis. But they are a pain in the nether regions, especially since she does her own, her father's, mine and the business taxes.

So I have decided to pull out one of my two parenting tools to motivate her. Since she truly is Wonderful, I can't use tool number one, Blackmail. Darn. That's a personal fave and always worked with her brother.

Back up plan: Bribery. Since she loves to bake bread (and everything else) we realize she needs a bigger, better mixer. Her kitchen won't hold a Hobart, so we are buying her a KitchenAid stand mixer.
All she has to do is 1) finish, 2) submit and 3) pay those stinking taxes first.

I'm hopeful this will work, although I must admit she is strong-willed.
Case in point...When she was about 12, I decided I had had enough of picking up after the kids all the time so I gathered their stuff into one box and waited until they came home from school.
I informed them I was now the owner of their belongings in the box and they must use their allowance money to get their stuff back. .25 per item.
WD soberly examined the contents of the box. She reached in, picked out 2 hair clips and a library book. Then she informed me, "Keep 75 cents from my next allowance and...I really don't need any of the rest of this stuff. You can keep it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sure wish "someone" would send me an email and tell me how to move pictures down my posts...I hate having them all at the top.

Thank you for being a friend

travelled down the road and back again
Your heart is true,
you're a pal and a confidant...

We had a very nice weekend with our friends. True blue friends are difficult to come by and we are blessed with several.

My "sister from another mother", Janey and her hubby had us over on Saturday night for a wonderful Greek feast with pork and chicken souvlaki, tzatziki, lemon rice, Greek salad with tomatoes from their garden and homemade apple pie for dessert! They have a back yard that should be in a magazine and we sat out, enjoying the garden, the few stars we can see in the city and listening to her brother play his guitar and sing for us. We had a great, relaxing time. I didn't drink and was the designated driver to get us both home. We had a few chuckles about me nursing a ginger ale all night and I informed them I was having champagne. It says right on the label it`s the champagne of ginger ales.
As we went to get into our vehicle, my high heel stuck in a low spot on the newly sodded boulevard and I went down like a sack of potatoes. I had my hands full and my purse unzipped and stuff flew. I called out to the Nameless Man on the other side of the minivan, `Help`. Suddenly a young lady came running over, followed by her boyfriend and they picked me up, got me back on my feet and retrieved the articles that had flown out of my purse upon impact. No feminine products thank goodness. They dusted me off, asked me repeatedly if I was okay and once I`d reassured them I was, in fact, sober and unhurt they left as I climbed into the van. To find my loyal spouse sitting, gazing unconcernedly out the front windshield, waiting for me to get in. Too funny!!!
Guess I'd better learn to recognize my champagne of ginger ales limit. They say acknowledging you have a problem is the first step towards recovery.

Yesterday, we went to Penelope and Gordon`s for an excellent Indian meal of 3 different curries, saffron rice, nan, salad and a blueberry crisp for dessert. Gordon made the curry and had taught us how to do it. We try to duplicate his curries but he is the master. Perhaps being born in India and raised in Britain is the secret? A rousing game of Trivial Pursuit followed as always and I'm proud to announce we gals retained our championship belt and are undefeated. Penelope carried me, as always but is gracious enough to pretend I'm a little trivial too.
Gordon announced during dessert he loves huckleberries so now I have to search and see if we can get those here. It's a long drive to BagLady's methinks. And I am scared of finding out what a bear does in the woods or in the huckleberry bushes.
I'm not close with my siblings or mother and having these friends is our family. Family we chose ourselves in my humble opinion is the very best kind. Especially when they are as hospitable as our friends are!

Just a Small Town Girl

Funny to think both the Nameless Man and I were born in,and went to Grade One together ,in this tiny little town. Our mothers worked at the hospital together and had coffee together on their day off but we didn't really get to know each other until I was 18. After our unforgettable Grade One experience, his family moved to the big city of Saskatoon, Sask..

Fortunately, they soon returned to our beautiful province and settled in Calgary where our paths crossed many years later.

My family remained behind, in Cardston until I was 12. It was a great place to grow up, even if you weren`t a Mormon. In those days, it was the site of the only Mormon temple in Canada so the town was predominately LDS. No booze sold within a 40 mile radius. At least, not legally. This was an inconvenience for my family members, but being of resourceful, pioneer stock, they had long since adapted to their environment.

It was fun growing up in a small town where you knew almost everyone. I was always thrilled on cold winter days when Don Remington (who was my great grandpa`s neighbour once we moved into town) would come to the school with a horse drawn wagon and take kids from his side of town home from school. He also had a stagecoach parked outside his home and we were welcome to play in it or the genuine Indian teepee whenever we wanted.

The temple was built on a hill so you could see it from almost everywhere in town. At night, when it was all lit up, along with the male members of my family, it was quite a spectacle. Actually, only my step-father had an alcohol problem, 3 of my grandfathers were social drinkers and the other one was a practicing Mormon. But you could depend the annual spectacle of my step-father getting roaring drunk and knocking over the Christmas tree as much as you could depend on the temple to stay up there on the hill.

Still, family turmoils aside, all in all I thought it was the greatest town on earth and when we moved to the foothills south of Calgary when I was in Grade 7, I thought my heart would surely break. That summer I relocated myself to the Okanagan to live with my dad. Then my heart and spirit mended quite nicely.

Song Sung Blue

I am a huge Neil Diamond fan. Or, should I say I hugely enjoy the singing of Neil Diamond? I'm trying to find a way to say I love the music of Neil Diamond without looking like a plus-sized woman. heh. heh.

Since his songs are now played as elevator music, I regularly embarrass the stuffing out of WD in Wal-Mart, the grocery store, the optometrist and anywhere else "Sweet Caroline" is played. You see, I am of the opinion that we MUST all chime in (loudly) on the Bah, Bah, Bum's after he warbles, "sweeeet Car-o-liiine". And so I do. I chime right in. Loudly. Everywhere.

So I will be strolling toward you in Safeway, pushing my overloaded cart with the wonky wheel and, as we draw abreast near the pasta sauce I will suddenly belt out, "Bah Bah Bum" to accompany the overhead music.

There are two, no three, consequences of this obsession of mine:
1) WD cannot stand the song stylings of Mr. Diamond
2) Anytime "Sweet Caroline" comes over any speaker she immediately scurries away, putting at least 50 feet between us.
3) I am no longer allowed in the 37th street Wal-mart. One of their assistant managers has jumpy nerves and no appreciation for the classics.

The past few days I have had lots of songs running through my head in a loop. Some oldies, some goldies, some truly fabulous stuff but this morning, I woke up after another mostly sleepless night to "Life is a Cabaret".

I have been wallowing in a little depression due to the unexpected news from the doctor but that's done now.

"What good is sitting alone in your room? Life is a holiday!"

So, I will take a deep breath, realize I didn't get a death sentence, just a little set back. I will take my prescriptions, I will cut down on the cleaning (danggit), the caffeine, the little exercise I get and I will relax and wait for concrete news following the latest tests.

I will also stop lying in bed at night, mentally rewriting my will and doling out my pathetically few sentimental possessions in my head.

I'm going to focus on the cabaret.

Bah Bah Bum, good times never seemed so good.

Hacking In...

Uninvited guest "Wonderful Daughter" here again.

You may have noticed I backed off the blog comments. Mom did, and asked why, and I lied. Told her I had nothing to say, though the truth is that I think she needs an outlet that doesn't involve me or my kids or he-who-will-not-allow-himself-to-be-mentioned. Something & somewhere just for her.

I'm breaking in today to let you know what's going on with her heart, she's too tired/depressed to do it and I don't think it's right to leave you worrying.

She has exertional angina, meaning when she exerts herself her heart does not get enough oxygen due to plaque build up in her arteries. She gets chest pain and it can lead to a heart attack. The doctor said it's unusual for someone her age (48) to have heart disease, so she has more tests later this month and next month, including a thallium test where they inject you with radioactive material that allows them to take pictures of the heart and track how much oxygen is getting to it after exertion and at rest.

She has been given very strict instructions about what activities she can & can't do, and is basically not allowed to do anything that exerts or stresses her body in any way. She has a nitro spray to take if the pain starts, and instructions that if the nitro doesn't work do not mess around and call an ambulance immediately.

The doctor seemed concerned about caffeine so mom has stopped taking the Apidexin because it contains stimulants. At this point she is not allowed to change her diet or exercise at all without prior approval from her doctor, which she can't get until after all the tests have been done.

She's understandably freaked out, but I'll encourage her to log in and post later.

Katie.

Alzheimers

I haven't forgotten you. Although I did forget Weigh In Thursday again.
It seems inconsequential, my scale was soooo wrong. I weighed 201.25 at the cardiologist on Wednesday. I thought I was down in the low 190's.

And, I didn't get great news there at the doctor.

So I'm processing that and will be back tomorrow.
No worries.

I'm a skeered

I'm off to my cardio stress test in an hour. I'm pretty scared. I'm sure hundreds of people a day have these things quite successfully but... An acquaintance went for one and dropped dead on the treadmill.

So, I'm doing what I do best, which is worry....

In other news,

I discovered Apidexin is also a fat burner which explains how I lose weight even though I'm not very active yet.

My floors are very dusty and in need of my immediate attention but I must work this afternoon.

Yet another employee has quit. We had BOTH her and her husband working full time for $20 an hour each and she quit with NO freaking notice.

The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless wants to purchase annual memberships at a nearby fitness facility. I like to swim and he is a gym rat. I checked on prices yesterday and they are $1,100 for a family pass. Or, $5 per visit if you go at 9:30 at night.

Yikes.

Long Weekend Recap

Well, Cousin has been and gone and a great time was had by all.

Yesterday, we spent 4 hours at the Calgary Zoo. It was neat to see it through his eyes. And, what sharp eyes he has! At each exhibit, I usually have to stand for a minute or two to see the inhabitants. Not Cousin, he'd walk up and casually announce, "there's an owl in behind that tree and two more up in the tree on the left".

Exhibits that have always stumped me, like "there are 8 frogs in this aquarium, how many do you see?" were a cinch for Cousin. Previously, I had been sure there was a hidden camera with zoo staff laughing at me behind the scenes because, in reality, there were only the 5 frogs I could find in the whole tank. But. like an idiot I had stood there 10 minutes looking for the fictitious 3.

Wonderful Daughter and I had a relaxing afternoon since both guys took a turn pulling the wagon. Usually, she has to shlep it all over since pulling it puts my back out. Or, at least, that's the excuse I give her.

In exciting news, the zoo now has wild turkeys roaming freely, just like the peacocks. They are so pretty with black and white speckled feathering. I love birds! I was excited to see last year's peacock chicks wandering about this year. We went to see the raptors but it is sad to see them caged.

Saturday, we went to the BBQ on the Bow Festival. It was a snooze-fest; but the little boys went wading at Prince's Island and we had a nice stroll around. Saturday night we had a rib BBQ at WD's and watched a movie on her projection tv.

Sunday, we all went to the Farmer's Market for brunch, then up the Calgary Tower. I really loved the Tower this time. Maybe it's because we live close to downtown and can easily pick out the different buildings. WD even picked out our condo building from up there, using the telescope.

We made a curry and butter chicken with saffron rice, papadums and nan for dinner, then went to Movie in the Park for the last time this year. It's just too dang cold at night to sit out there for 2 hours. After the movie, WD took her boys home and the 3 of us came back to our place to watch old Sci-Fi movies until we couldn't keep our eyes open.

Cousin is a 4th year apprentice and is usually up at 5 a.m. to go to work, so staying up past 11 is foreign to him. And, let's face it, we're getting old, so anything after 1 a.m. is going to kill us the next day.

So, all in all, a great time was had by all. He will come again in November when the ski resorts open. We can't wait!

The Wolf at the Door

When I was about 3 or 4, my dad would come stay for the odd weekend.

For those just tuning in, my parents divorced when I was 18 months old and my sister and I went to live with my dad's grandparents while my mom went back to school.

So, when my fun loving, silly dad would come stay we would get to sleep in his basement bedroom if we promised to be good and go to sleep.

Of course we promised.

Of course we didn't sleep.

He would show cartoon "movies" which basically amounted to sliding a cartoon celluloid strip past the bulb in a glorified flashlight. Kind of like a View Master, but more basic. We didn't care. It was just great to hang out and spend some time with him.

My dad couldn't just show the cartoon, though. He'd show it upside down. We'd lie on the bed with our heads hanging off the edge and watch the slides while he narrated the action. Same slides every time but always a different story to go with them.

Or, we'd have contests to see who could jump the highest on his old iron bed. I remember being allowed to cheat by hanging onto the wrought iron headboard for maximum height. We would also jump from the headboard onto the bed. With him standing by, ready to catch us but also giving encouragement and pointers on technique and form.

His visits were always way too short and way too much fun. We had lots of good times with Dad. Yesterday I spent the day in bed and I remembered one night we all got into big trouble. Major league trouble.

It was dark and we were cozy under the blankets and he was telling one of his really great stories. This one was about how he had gotten lost when he was walking in the woods one cold, dark night.
We listened, trembling with fear as he told of how scared he was as he stumbled along, branches scratching his face and eerie noises so close to him he thought something was right beside him.

We were so immersed in the story we actually felt his relief as he found a small cave he could seek shelter in while waiting for the morning light. We were bursting with pride he was able to start a little fire using a method taught to him by an Indian chief. But then, we held our breath as he saw the lights in the forest. As they got closer, he was horrified to realize they were the eyes of animals drawing closer to his fire. We were horrified too!

Not just any animals approached. It was wolves, huge ravenous timber wolves! We shivered with terror as he told of his frantic search for something, anything he could use as a weapon to fend off the hundreds, no thousands of wolves that came stealthily closer. We gasped as he described their wild howls and their teeth gleaming in the firelight as they got closer and closer.

And we screamed in horror when the wolves pounced and ATE OUR DAD.

Yup, that`s right. My crazy tease of a father told a 5 year old and a 3 year old he was eaten by wolves. We screamed and screamed and no matter how he shushed us, he couldn`t calm us down. No matter how fast he talked and tried to explain he was right there, we were certain the wolves ate our dad.

Then, he heard a sound that struck icy terror in his own heart. My great-grandma was on her way downstairs.
He would have preferred to really face the wolves.

Even years later, she`d shake her head and cluck her tongue in disgust whenever we laughingly remembered the time the wolves ate our dad.

~~~~~~~~
Yesterday was weigh in day but I had a migraine and forgot all about it. Today the scales were down one pound. I'll take it! A loss is a loss.

Cousin is coming down for the weekend and we have plans to go to the zoo and movie in the park (for the last time this year). Wonderful Daughter and I are very excited and can't wait for his visit. I'd better go get this place cleaned up.

If I ever catch Tikki to finish his grooming, I'll post the "After" picture.

Have a great weekend and watch out for wolves. Or bears as the case may be.

Productive Days.

BEFORE
I feel so much more energized now that I've lost a little weight. It's only 10 pounds but my energy level is so much better. I'm loving this!

Although I haven't slept well the past two nights, I'm not groggy and lethargic like I would normally be. I've actually done more each day than I ordinarily accomplish. Today I met with a realtor to see if we wanted to become his new cleaning team.

He invited me to meet for coffee, showed up late, after I'd ordered, didn't have a coffee and then stiffed me to pay for my own. Although I made it clear to him we had done an additional hour's work at one of his client's and then Dom and I went back on Saturday, he didn't offer compensation for that either. I didn't expect to be paid for my time but do have to pay our people another $20 for their extra hour of work in the house.

What do y'all think? Think we'll accept work from him in the future? Let's see...for $25 he has chiseled his way out of great cleaning services.

I don't understand people who are cheap. Maybe I over pay... I mean, we did tip our waitress about 25% on Sunday night but what's a couple bucks really? It made her night. She was so effusive in her thanks, it was almost embarrassing.

That Moxie's is right by our house, so if we go in again, maybe she will recognize us and we'll get the same great service? If not, maybe it helped make up for the jokers who are under the impression pretty young girls work as waitresses so married guys can make inappropriate remarks to them. The service industry is tough. I've worked in it for too many years. Why try to cheap out when dealing with others? That said, this June was the first time in my entire life I didn`t leave a tip for a waitress and now I did it again when we got the raw meat served to us at Phil`s. Is a trend developing?
We decided not to pursue the Global TV thing. The information package they sent out to us portrayed women in a manner we didn't much care for. Case in point: One picture was of a woman in an itsy bitsy American flag bikini with obvious augmentation. Poorly done too, I might add. Her head was chopped off so you could focus on the really important parts of the photo. Another picture was a beautiful woman lying on her animal print chaise with a Bellini in hand. Another had an unfortunate looking, very plain and dowdy woman (not gorgeous) eating a salad. I can't recall the last pic. I was just left with a bad taste in my mouth. WD and I agreed that's not how it had been presented initially and we don't want to associate with that culture.

Today, I chased Tikki the stubborn half-pink poodle around to try and finish his clipping. I'm cutting off the old, pink growth to reveal apricot poodle underneath. He's about 3/4 done now and looks like a freak. (Don't tell him I said that. It's hard on his self esteem). The way he bites and squirms and carries on, you'd think I'm performing the snip-snip he will get done later this month without the benefit of anesthesia. (DON'T tell about that either!! We really want it to be a surprise).

He doesn't read my blog. He finds it boring. He only reads Bag lady's cattle talk. I think he has a crush on Princess.

So far today, I have drank my water, racked up 4 miles on my pedometer for bathroom trips, lol and I'm making a healthy chili for dinner. My clothes are still fitting better (looser) and my abdomen is definitely flatter. I also noticed some lumps of fat I had in my thighs (not cellulite) are shrinking.

All in all, I recommend Apidexin for a boost on the weight loss wagon. The second shipment just came so we can all stay on it.

Weigh in day is two days away. So, we shall see.