feeling swell

First off, thank you for all the wonderful comments about yesterday’s post. Many of us had a nice discussion on Facebook and I also received a couple of private messages that meant the world to me.  We all have stuff that lingers from our past, and we all have different ways to cope. In high school, my coping mechanism was to be happy no matter what in public. I ignored all the ugly remarks about the size of my butt, BUT, they never went away.

“She’s so chunky, you have to eat her with a fork.”

“Chunky, chunky 2 by 4, can’t get through the kitchen door.”

I made myself believe the people who said those things to me were just ‘ribbing’ me. Like they would one of the guys. And so then, I became one of the guys. Because THAT was the safest thing to do. If you’re one of the guys, then you don’t expect to get a boyfriend. You’re not going to, anyway. Boys don’t like curvy girls. So I threw a football better than most dudes, I played all the sports and became better friends with the boys than I did with most of the girls. I also threw myself into every extracurricular activity I could, from Student Senate to Class Officer. I was the most unpopular popular kid in high school.

It’s funny, our perceptions of each other growing up. I felt like nobody knew me, like I was just so-n-so’s sidekick, I was the fat friend with a good personality, the pity date, the third wheel.  So when I went to college, I still had this weird, self-perception.

But now, 30 years later, even though I fight those old feelings, I actually feel pretty fucking swell. I’ve got some amazing friends, a super amazing boyfriend and my kids–I survived high school so I could be the kind of mom I am today. And I wake up happy everyday (even when I don’t want to get out of bed because the sleep won’t leave my face!) It’s nice, this swellness I have on my inside parts.

I think that’s why I get so bent out of shape about bullying these days. And I’m not even talking about mean kids being mean. That sucks and it needs to be stopped. I’m talking about adult bullying kids but calling it ‘parenting.’ If your kid goes through life feeling worthless because you called her a whore for wearing too much makeup to a party or an inappropriate dress or you tell her girls with those size thighs can’t wear those skirts…or girls with no boobs shouldn’t put on boob dresses….then you’re being a bully. You’re not parenting, you’re shaming. My parents are amazing grandparents, but when I had the boys, I made it very clear to them… they were never to feel shame for asking questions or wearing something that looked horrible but they picked it out themselves. They were never to be called names EVER. Because shaming is not good parenting. Luckily, I broke free of that pattern, but a lot of kids grow up to be the same kind of parents… It’s not fair to their kids.

/soap box for the day

Have I shown y’all my summer look? Or what I PLAN to be my summer look?

b565857d7fcc88210771ed351333ced1I’m gonna rock this look all summer long, and sparkle while I’m doing it…

This picture inspired me… :

480900_451243814958361_1530752660_nHow to get a bikini body: PUT A BIKINI ON YOUR BODY. Yeah yeah, that’s actually a 2-piece not a bikini. I’m confident but not THAT confident. LOL

Anyway, y’all do something kind for yourself today. And smile. You know smiling is contagious…right?

When Thin was In…

This is not a “bagging on the skinny chicks” post, so please, don’t take it that way. If you do, then you probably ought to do a little self examination of your own. Everyone needs love themselves for who they are…and to help myself with that,  I’m endeavoring to write more honestly, to use my blog in a way that will help me on my path to physical health. And part of good physical health is emotional health, and writing is very good for me emotionally.

And I need to explore my past to improve my future. Please excuse me while I slice open a vein…

I am an 80s girl through and through. And, if you were an 80s kid with me, you know that decade was not made for curvy people.

Every pant was high-waisted and tapered. No hips allowed. And for those of us with an hour-glass figure, we had to buy pants a size too big and then have our MeMa dart the waist by at least an inch. (what? Only me?) No wonder everyone thought I was fat. I was relegated to Chic and Lee Jeans. UGH. The horror.

il_fullxfull.452142843_dewy il_224xN.447391093_jv5g

Yes, I was told weekly by my basketball coach that I was fat and needed to get to a goal weight of 118-125. I weighed 135-140, was 5’6 and played 2 hours + of basketball a day.

But I was “fat” because I had tits, hips and thighs.

Mel 8th Grade BBall

Please ignore the mullet.

Look at “Fat Mel” from 8th grade. Yeah. I know. Ridiculous.

But think about what kind of damage hearing how fat you are when you weigh 135-140 lbs when you’re 14 years old. That number is always my “fat” number, mentally. So imagine how bad I felt about myself several years ago when I was 100 lbs over my “fat” number? Talk about self-esteem issues!

The other problem with the 80s’ idea of the perfect physical shape was the clothing.

I wanted to be the girl who could wear the White Patch Levis. You know the ones I’m talking about, right? The ones only the hot girls could wear? (At least, in my mind those were the only girls who could wear them. The skinny girls with no hips.)

il_fullxfull.297862858And I wanted to be in the club. I wanted to be a broomstick, not a brick house. Because in those days, girls were shamed into believing they needed to change their bodies to fit in. Coaches snatched our candy bars from our hands and told us we needed to eat more salads–NO DRESSING. Daddies told us we’d never find a boy if we didn’t lose weight and compared us to our friends. “Why can’t you be more like them?” It didn’t matter if the friend they were comparing you to was having sex, doing drugs, boozing it up, smoking cigarettes, or failing school… it mattered that they looked good in their basketball, softball, cheerleader, you name it Uniform. And of course, in their White Patch Levis.

I spent a lot of time covering myself up, trying to hide my body. I wore sweat pants and t-shirts almost everyday. I used the excuse of having only 5 minutes between the end of school and the beginning of basketball practice to change, but the reality was, my clothes became my wall. I developed a witty sense of humor and had friends from every walk of life (which I’m grateful for, to this day) and I pretended to not care what anyone thought about me. I got good at feigning confidence. But at night, when I was alone, I would flip through the Spiegel and Esprit  catalogs and pray that my hips would go away. Those magazine pages (especially the swimsuit ones) were tear-stained and ruined by the end of the 80s.

What a horrible thing to do to a child. To put such unrealistic ideals in their heads and to make them ashamed of their body shape. To try to force them into being just like everyone else. Those expectations are hard to overcome, even as an adult.

I’m 44 years old. I’m 60 lbs over my current ideal weight and I have never loved myself more, nor have I ever felt sexier.

But it has taken a LONG time for me to get here, and trust me when I tell you, I still struggle everyday with loving myself for who I am. Not because I’m not awesome (I’m totally awesome) but because in the back of my mind, I’m still the 14 year old girl who just wants to be skinny so people will approve of her.

I think we have come a long way in the fat-shaming world, BUT we’re not fully there yet. If we were, things like Mike Jeffries saying “fat chicks” can’t be one of the “cool kids” wouldn’t happen. Shaming children in any way is wrong. One of the things I swore I’d do as a parent was to build my kids up for who they are and teach them to celebrate their individuality and revel in the differences of others. And they both do that, rather well, thankfully.

I tell you all of this to let you know the reason I still struggle with my weight. Not because I’m worried about being “fat” because I’m not. I’m sexy. The dudes dig me (and the chicks, too, tyvm) and frankly, I dig myself. I struggle with my weight because ultimately, I want to be healthier. I’m a very fit fat girl. What I want to be is just fit. There’s always going to be someone who thinks of me as the “fat girl” and that’s okay. They can label me however they want, that’s their problem, not mine. I’ve spent 30 years overcoming trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations, but I’ve finally given up trying to please anyone but myself. That is so freeing.

Welcome to my world, folks. I’m a little damaged, but I’m not broken. My extra padding has protected me.

smoooove

So, I’ve been on an eternal quest for a healthier lifestyle…for oh, let’s say, eternity.

In March, I added a new skin care regime, because as I lose weight, it is highly possibly that I’ll get wrinkles. And as a woman of 44 years, who still gets carded on a regular basis, the last thing I need or want is to get wrinkles. At least, not yet.

I’ve been using Meaningful Beauty for 3 full months now, and this is me today, without any makeup on and no filters.

Today: No makeup. Fewer laugh lines and crows feet

Today: No makeup. Fewer laugh lines and crows feet

Not too bad for a 44 year old broad, huh? I was trying to find a good comparison picture. I found 1 that would work, but I have full makeup and glasses on so it was difficult to see the difference around the eyes. However the difference around the mouth is pretty significant.

Now, I purchased this product, so MB isn’t paying me anything to review it. Here’s what I have to say.

Yes, my skin looks fantastic and feels SMOOOOOOVE like a baby’s bottom. I’ve noticed a definite fading of crow’s feet and my laugh lines (which I actually love) are noticeably less prominent. I have no issues going without makeup (even though I need new lashes ASAP. Has anyone seen my eyes? Yeah, me either.)

I’m not a huge fan of the cleansing lotion. It doesn’t foam or bubble up, and I feel like I’m having to use more of it than I should. The kit doesn’t come with a night cream, so I use the day cream at night. That’s a huge disappointment. You have the option to ‘customize’ your kit and can add the night cream that way.

I also do not like the “club” set up, however, I have my automatic delivery for 20 weeks, which I can change at any time if I run low. That’s a nice option. Most “clubs” force your into a 90 Day /12 week automatic delivery.

The price point isn’t bad, especially if you set up your delivery for 4 months or more. I don’t need to use a lot of product, one little dab will do ya… or at least it does me. I’ve decided to keep using the product for at least one more round.

In Eating Cleaner news:

I fired up the grill and loaded it with some awesome locally grown veggies this weekend. Sweet potatoes, asparagus, okra, squash, green beans, tomatoes. I also grilled some pineapple, which was oh so yummy. We ate very well this weekend, let me tell ya.

I walked every day for an hour. Monday was hard because Sunday I had some girlfriends over and we enjoyed muy wine. I’ll have you know, I still did not go over my calories for the day, thankyouverymuch.

In OMG how awesome news, I met Ian’s friend-girl this week. (OMG, she’s adorbs). I’m not sure if they’re going to officially ‘date’ or not, it’s really not my business yet (it won’t be until it’s her birthday or Christmas, and then I’ll need to know if I need to buy her a present or not. Haha) But anyway, we were all hanging out on Wednesday and we were talking about parents and parenting styles etc., and I made a comment that sometimes parents have really high expectations of their kids and no matter what they accomplish, it won’t be enough because they expect more. (this is a concept I don’t understand as a parent, but I understand as a kid of those parents.) I said, “for example, I’ve published two young adult novels with a very prestigious publisher, and sometimes I think my mom still thinks I could do better.” She stopped and looked at me and said, “Wait. You’re Melissa Francis? As in BITE ME AND LOVE SUCKS Melissa Francis?”

Me: Yep.

Friend-Girl: OMG I LOVE YOUR BOOKS!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE THAT MELISSA FRANCIS.

Me: Happy happy joy joy can’t stop smiling.

And in other O517I1Qi7nnL._SY300_MG Awesome News…I got to see my Stacey Jay this weekend! Have you pre-ordered her latest book yet? WHY NOT?

OF BEAST AND BEAUTY

order it. devour it. review it. and email Stacey and tell her she is made of awesome. (because she totes is).

Find Stacey on Facebook

Stacey on the web

Stacey on Twitter: @stacey_jay

Okay, there’s my weekend recap. It was a great weekend. The boys enjoyed Riverfest. Jefe and I enjoyed each other and the beautiful weather, and I also enjoyed my girl time with some of my besties. Life doesn’t suck.

Hey USA! Happy Holiday Weekend!

Memorial-Day

Don’t forget to thank a veteran for the freedoms he or she fought for us to have.

 

 

 

 

Also. Happy Freaking Friday! Yay for the three-day weekend!

Last night at the Compound, we fired up Big Bertha for the first time since fall. Not because we don’t  grill year ’round usually, but because we had to use our porch as a storage shed, and poor Big Bertha was inaccessible until we finally got the boxes moved to the actual storage unit. Which we did a few weeks ago, and now, not only can we enjoy our Screened-in-Porch again, but we can enjoy grilled meat again as well.

Mmmmm. Meat.

Mmmmm. Meat.

I melted some butter and added an equal amount of balsamic vinegar and some garlic and I put the chicken and the marinade into a ziploc. I refrigerated the chicken for about 40 minutes. Then I basted the chicken in the leftover marinade while grilling.

OMG. It was seriously so juicy and tender!  I also grilled some green beans and black-eyed peas in foil with a smidge of bacon fat.  We ate well last night.

Congratulations to the Boy Scouts for kinda sorta not being homophobic. *rolling eyes* So what’s going to happen when your gay boy scout members grow up and want to be boy scout leaders? It’s okay to be a gay member (heheh she said gay member) but not a leader who is gay? Really? So isn’t that kinda like Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell? (which really didn’t work out very well, yanno). Or is it the modern version of Separate but Equal? No. It’s not that either. I guess I’m proud you tried to take a step forward. It’s more like a half-a-step and you twisted your ankle, but it is slight progress.

Today is a wonderful day. It started out swell, I’m full of sparkle and awesome, I’m having Sushi with my bestie from high school for lunch, and tonight, there will be wine. Tomorrow we may go canoeing. I’m pretty sure I’ll be shaking my bootay at some point this weekend. (When you have a bootay like mine, you need to shake it well, and often.) And I’m thinking there will be a trip to the farmer’s market in our future as well.

YAY SUMMER!

trying something new

When fishdog and I split up, the one thing I lost in the divorce that I really miss is his webmaster abilities. He never really did anything for me in a timely manner, but at least he did his work for free.

Being on a limited income (meaning, I’d rather spend my money on booze, blackjack and hookers) I’ve decided to do the logical thing and point my website toward my wordpress blog…because even a thumbless monkey can manage wordpress.

I’ve updated the site a teensy bit. I plan to start blogging more about my summer adventure toward clean eating and my attempt to add yoga to my regimen Of course, there will still be many shenanigans, some sparkle, lots of wine, women, and wanderlust. I mean, I am kinda awesome, so things aren’t really gonna change that much around here.

I guess this is just kinda like rearranging the living room for a different view.

If you guys have anything you wanna see or talk about, give me a shout!

Otherwise, I’ll see you bitches tomorrow!

if you're sexy and you know it

weighing in

I have resisted this topic as long as possible. I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m furious. And I’m ready to bomb.com the ugliest man on earth.

It’s like Gary Busey and Bif from BACK TO THE FUTURE had a hate orgy with Donatella Versace…


and the product was a baby named Mike Jeffries.

And I’m not just talking about his face–which, I totally could be. Mostly, this man is ugly on the inside.

By now we’ve all read his remarks. But just for the record, let me post them for you here:

That’s why we hire good-looking people in our stores. Because good-looking people attract other good-looking people, and we want to market to cool, good-looking people. We don’t market to anyone other than that.

In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids. Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely. Those companies that are in trouble are trying to target everybody: young, old, fat, skinny. But then you become totally vanilla. You don’t alienate anybody, but you don’t excite anybody, either.

Looks aside, because seriously, we all have our own cross to bear…WHO THE FUCK IS HE KIDDING?

You see, I have no problem with A&F having an exclusionary market. Many, many stores do. I do have a problem when A&F (and other stores) reducing their clothing sizes so that even average women can’t wear them. Believe it or not, I wear a large TShirt. A&F’s Large (even men’s large) is barely a medium.

This is why girls put such unrealistic goals on themselves and their natural body size/shape. A girl who is normally a size 10, thinks she’s supposed to be a size 8 or size 6 and is ashamed of herself for being “too big.” And let’s face it, since when should a size 10 be considered BIG? Holy crap!

And may the gods bless Ellen Degeneres who uses her beautiful size-tiny self and her beautiful humor to make the point that if we continue to allow the retailers to get away with subtracting sizes to make their clientele skinnier and more “cool” then what’s going to be next? Negative sizes? Are we going to be starving ourselves to get into a size -2? Just be happy and healthy with who you are. She’s funny. And she’s right.

Let me give you a personal example

Here are Marilyn Monroe’s measurements:

Height: 5 feet, 5½ inches
Weight: 140 pounds (the majority of her career)
Bust: 35-37 inches
Waist: 22-23 inches
Hips: 35-36 inches
Bra size: 36D

I will have you know, when I got married, these measurements were almost identical to mine. (my waist was a 26.) I was literaly  36-26-36

A perfect hourglass.

I was mortified because I thought I was fat. I was a size 10. Starving to get myself into a size 8. I was working out 7 days a week and struggling with everything in my body to try to get to 135 and stay there. (Because 140 was fat)

And this is what NO girl should ever have to go through. I was in my 20s and still struggled with it. Imagine being 14…and not having the emotional stability or the wherewithal to handle this type of pressure.

What’s the point of all this? We need to teach our children to love themselves for who they are. We need to teach ourselves the same thing. And we all need to learn that there is beauty in every size and we have got to stop letting the retailers and morons like Mike Jeffries tell us that fat kids aren’t cool. Because that ain’t cool, Dude.

If you’re beautiful on the inside, you’re beautiful on the outside. If you’re not, no clothing in the world is gonna help you, no matter what size you are.

Mike Jeffries needs to sit his “cool” ass down on a therapy couch and try to fix his inside parts before he starts throwing stones at us ugly, uncool, fat folks.

ketchup.

As in, let’s “ketchup”!

Ugh. that was horrible. And now I want fries.

First off, happy belated mother’s day to all the moms who don’t suck.

Check out my awesome Mother’s Day gift that my cool boys got for me.

They tried to find me the perfect flamingo they said, but this is perfect. Me gusta mucho.

Update on the spider bite:

Friday I woke with a super swollen and painful arm. Weird. But it’s probably because Walgreens sucks now that they’ve purchased all the USA Drugs and they never seem to be able fill a prescription timely anymore. Apparently they were out of my antibiotic and didn’t bother to tell me prior to texting me that my prescription was ready. So when we get there, they let us know it’ll be ready tomorrow. And it was…around 5:30 pm. Which allowed the toxin/infection another 24 hours to grow. And so, I was pitiful and whiny on Friday while I waited for the meds to kick in.

Saturday I was all better, so I cleaned up my yard.

OH…Why was I cleaning my yard? Because another Hammered McHammerstein decided to drive through a tree in my front yard. She was on Xanax, not booze. That didn’t stop her from getting arrested. Trust me. Here’s some pictures, and if you want real entertainment, watch the video at the end of my blog. Yes. She was followed and filmed. It’s kinda like my own personal episode of COPS.

So I sawed up the giant holly bush she mowed over, and Jefe finally got to the tree in the back yard that broke during the ice this winter. We did LOTS of sawing. And hauling. And I still need to get the left over car debris from the yard before I mow… yippee.

And Mother’s Day started with pancakes and ended with cheese dip with a lot of John Deere time in between. All with my boys… THESE ARE SOME OF MY FAVORITE THINGS!

Now, for your viewing pleasure…Hammered Driving:

yo. whassup? nothin’ much over here

Except for my gross swollen arm from a spider bite.

Stupid spiders. No wonder I hate you so much.

So here I am, back on antibiotics. Thankfully, just one day of the antibiotic cream and the swelling and redness has gone down. I have to pick up my oral meds today, apparently they were out. Yes, I know. Go figure…So glad I wasn’t concerned about sepsis or anything.

Mother’s Day is this weekend. The boys are taking me to brunch that morning, and then we’re spending the day together while Jefe works.

I’m so sleepy today. I blame the Benadryl which I had to take last night because of my grody spider bite. (grody is an official scientific term.) Stupid grody spider.

That’s why I love this so much: Spiders are Scary. It’s OK to be afraid of them.

In other news, Ruby is still Ruby.

Hope y’all have had a spider-free week. If not, I hope you were able to get the bastard before it got you.

Good? vibrations…

I must be putting off some kind of weird vibe or pheromone this week. Seriously. The creepers are coming out of the woodwork! And it’s not just me…several of my friends have had weird creeper messages, FB inboxes, texts, and experienced generally inappropriate behaviors from strangers.

Maybe it’s the planetary alignment or something. Isn’t there an eclipse coming up? That’s gotta be why the weirdos are making themselves known.

Hmmm. The Solar Eclipse isn’t until the 10th. Are we gonna have to deal with the crazies until then?

I’m in another goofy mood today. I think the barometric pressure is getting to me! Or maybe, I’m feeling a little wacky because the weather dudes are predicting snow in Northwest Arkansas for tomorrow. SNOW???? in May!? It’s supposed to be cold on Friday night, possibly in the 30s. WTF happened to spring? This has been the strangest weather pattern I’ve ever seen in my life.

It’s Thursday…Let’s get this weekend started early, shall we? And creepers beware. I’m in no mood for your awkward and socially unacceptable propositions. Move along to someone who actually requires attention to feed their insecurities and make themselves feel better… Your services are not needed here.