Don’t Let Me Buy More Black Pants

 

 

Today I did a task that has been on my list for months.  I tried on all my hanging clothes in three closets.  Don’t think I have so many clothes because I have three closets.  We just live in an old fashioned house with small closets.

 

Not that long ago I moved all the clothes that were really too big out and was left with the clothes I knew fit right then and the clothes I wanted to fit into in the future.  Well I figured the future was getting close enough so I wanted to try everything on and sort the clothes.  The categories were: clothes I loved and could fit into right now and were season appropriate, ones that were out of season or about to be out of season but fit, clothes that would fit when I lose five to ten pounds that I love, clothes that are just too big and even though I love them I should not wear them, and the what was I thinking buying that I never want to wear it not matter how thin I get.

 

I looked like one of the clothes guys on seventh avenue rolling racks of clothes down the street as I tried on and shuffled things between rooms.  I think it was most horrifying for Carter who came up to my floor as I was rolling the rack down the hall in only my bra and granny panties.  Surely I have scared her for life.

 

After all the sorting I put the love it and can wear it now clothes in my primary closet in an organized, short sleeve blouses, long sleeve blouses, sweaters, pants, dresses, suits in rainbow order.  These were clothes that I have bought over a number of years, as I have been this size a couple of times.  What was very evident is that I never need to buy black pants this size ever again.  Black pants out numbered any other group of clothing by at least four to one.  White blouses were a distant second.  Based on those two things you would think I was a waitress or a young Mormon man.

 

Tomorrow I get to tackle the folded clothes in various dresser drawers.  Then it’s time to take on the shoes.  I know I have pairs that are twice as old as my teenager and they need to go.  Shoes are easy since now I don’t wear anything that is not comfortable so I bet I can get down to about six pairs. Let’s hope they are not all brown since I only have black pants.


Calling All Pure Barre Neophytes

 

 

Three times now I have gone to take a Pure Barre Class.  I think I am getting a little better at it, but I am such a novice I am not quite sure.  What I do know is that I am getting a big time workout because I am dripping in sweat halfway through the class.  I am unable to do every exercise or position the whole time, but I am trying.

 

Many of my local friends have expressed an interest in trying Pure Barre with me but are afraid to be the new person or the oldest person in the class.  Lynn and Charlotte have come to our rescue.  This Sunday at 4:30 there is a special Friends of Dana “Breaking Down the Barre” intro class at the Durham Studio.

 

This should be a helpful way to learn exactly what the hell “tucking” is and what all the other PB terminology is and how to do it.  If you have any curiosity about they Pure Barre mystique this will be the best opportunity to figure it out in the company of other understanding middle-aged friends.

 

Let me know if you want to come and join me.  The class will cost $15 or you can get a package of four classes for $40 or any other number of class packages.  The important thing is to come and have fun.  I need the company of good friends when I exercise.

 

Lynn says that after class there will be wine as a special treat just for us.   SO let me know if you can make it.  Bring your friends.  Laughing will be required, but not at how you do at the workout.


Arizona On The Wrong Side of History

 

 

A bunch of state politicians in Arizona came up with this bill, SB1062 that allows business owner to refuse service to anyone they want based on the owner’s religious beliefs.  The people supporting the bill say that it is not an anti-gay bill, but a religious freedom bill.  Come on people.  Religious freedom means you have the right to worship who and what you want, it does not mean that as a business you can pick and chose who to serve.

 

Nothing about your religion says you have to have a business, but if you do then you should serve all customers equally.  If this bill passes then not only will prejudice people find an excuse not to serve gay people but also all minorities could be in jeopardy based on the way this bill is written.  Any shortsighted, bigoted business owner could say their religion does not believe in African Americans, or Native Americans or Hispanics.

 

Business owners are down right crazy not to want to serve gay people.  Don’t they know they have more discretionary income than the average bigoted white guy?  If the gay community likes your business that usually means you are on the way up.  If you want to buy a house in an up and coming neighborhood when there is a lot of potential to make big bucks find out where the gay men are moving.  They are good for improving the neighborhood for sure.  Lesbians are loyal customers.  Once you have a devoted Lesbian following you will have steady income because if they like you they will be back and bring friends.

 

Gay rights are the civil right of our time.  Arizona is not only behind the times but taking more than a few huge steps backwards in history by even getting this bill this far.  Governor Jan Brewer is taking too long to veto this bill.  She says she will do what is right for Arizona, but the damage is done.  Those of us who have gay people themselves should not step foot in that state and give them any of our hard earned dollars.  Religious freedom is one thing, but lack of revenue is what worries most business owners.


Smash Day

 

 

Losing weight when you have extra pounds is a good thing, right?  But where it comes off and in what order is something most people just have control over.  I seem to melt like a candle losing from the top down with a little bit of losing from the bottom up with my feet getting thinner long before my thighs.

 

One area on the top that seems to go fast are my boobs, which is not a bad thing because if they did not get smaller as the rest of me did I would probably fall over.  The real problem is that the fat disappears but the skin sticks around.  Now my boobs are like blueberry pancakes with one blueberry each.

 

Thank goodness for modern day shape wear that can hoist, hold, mold and cup my malleable breasts into a more pleasing shape and no one is the wiser that I could tie them in a knot and throw them over my shoulder like a continental soldier.  That is until today.

 

Today was my annual smash day or mammogram day to use the correct terminology.  If you are a man or a woman under forty you don’t have intimate knowledge of the contraption they use to smash down a woman’s breasts to the flattest possible shape to take pictures of them.  In the mammogram community my kind of soft tissue, stretched out and pliable breasts are a bonus for the smash tech.  She can lay them on out and lower the clear plastic smasher cover on me without any trouble.  The pictures she snaps are perfect first take.  In the mammo tech world I am the client that gets them back on schedule.

 

So hooray that today my flabbiness made someone happy.  I appreciate the tech’s comments that I was the patient of the day.  I know why and she did not even have to spell it out.  Thanks for not mentioning my soft breast tissue like bra fitters do when they are trying to come up with the right bra to act as scaffolding for my chest yet is still comfortable.

 

364 days a year my boobs are usually undesirable, but one day, the day dedicated to their health they are just right.  No matter what kind of breasts you have get them smashed once a year.  Don’t listen to those men who think you don’t need a mammogram every year.  Get one anyway.  Whatever shape you are in you need to take care of them.


Giving Yourself Credit

 

 

I like credit.  Not the kind that involves money but the kind you get when you do something good.  That could explain why I am addicted to my fitbit.  I like getting credit for every step I walk.  I wear the thing to bed not so it can track how well I’m sleeping, but so it can count the 32 steps I take when I get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

 

I hate when I get an e-mail from my fitbit that tells me the battery is low in the middle of the day because it worries me to death that it is going to stop working before I have a chance to recharge and I will take a bunch of steps and get no credit for them.  I don’t know why it matters.  Only a couple of friends are part of my fitbit community and they don’t give two shakes if I get 140,000 steps in a week or 40,000.  Whatever this addiction is it is working for me.  Counting, credit, accountability I’m addicted to them all as long as they are created, and counted by me!

 

I was talking to a friend today who told me about someone who married a much older and much richer man who put a clause in her pre-nup agreement that said if she gained ten pounds he was allowed to divorce her.  Now that kind of accountability would work the total opposite on me.  I don’t like when someone else tells me what to do or sets the parameters for how I am supposed to live.  If I were married to that man I probably would gain the weight on purpose just to see what he would do.  I can’t imagine living under that kind of dictatorship.

 

I am sure that wife did not get credit for keeping to her weight range.  It was demanded so then it’s like a punishment and not a reward.  I wonder what other stipulations were in that pre-nup?  I’m sure that husband demanded his own kind of regular rewards.  That’s not a marriage; I think it’s called something else you pay for.

 

So many times people ask me how I’ve lost weight and then ask me if I could talk to one of their loved ones they wish would lose weight.  That is where I stop them.  No one can talk someone into wanting to lose weight.  Each person has to come to that decision on their own and only then will it be possible to happen.  It can’t be a clause in their life.

 

I take credit for what I have done, but I am thankful for the help my loved ones have given me.  I am mostly thankful that I have been loved at every weight up and down the scale.  I give my loved ones credit for their support.


Mindlessly Ruining a Good Look

 

 

When I was in boarding school I had plenty of friends who smoked cigarettes.  They were allowed to do it at any age as long as they had permission from their parents.  There was one room, the butt room where they were allowed to smoke and it was a disgusting and fowl smelling room that never tempted me to visit.

 

I once asked a friend who was a smoker why she did not smoke outside rather than in the gross butt room.  She said that a lady should never be seen smoking outside and the butt room kept her allusion of being a lady.  I think that Jackie Kennedy, who attended a rival school to mine, followed this rule.  There are no pictures of Jackie smoking even though she was a reported butt addict.

 

Today I was at a the grocery and I saw a very elegant lady, dressed in a St. John Knit suit get out of her new Mercedes coupe.  She was at least ten years older than I was and I thought she looked so nice compared to me in my tennis shoes and khakis.  That was until I looked at her face and saw her jaw bobbing up and down, mouth half opened as she chew a piece of gum.   She mashed away on the gum with no idea that she resembled a cow chewing its cud out in a field alone.  If only she were alone.

 

Just as “ladies” of the last century were schooled in the no smoking in public graces it seems like chewing gum needs to have a similar campaign.  Today’s St. John lady lost all elegant points because of the little wad of gum.  Perhaps it was nicotine gum and she needed it because she is not allowed to smoke inside public places anymore, but it that was the case she needs to learn about the patch.

 

I wish I had been bold enough to videotape her to show you how unattractive the gum chewing was, but then I surely could be sued for deformation of character if this woman ever saw my blog.

 

My mother started smoking when she was young because her mother told her to have a cigarette to help curb her appetite.  I know some people who chew gum to help them not eat.  Listen, the calories are worth not making you look a barnyard animal.  Gum chewing is fine in the privacy of your own home or car; just remember to spit it out before encountering the public.  Just don’t spit it on the ground that is littering.


Harris Beverage Good Guys

 

 

A few months ago my neighbor and friend Jay Harris who owns Harris Beverages the local Budweiser and other craft beer distributor told me about how much fun he had when he went to an national meeting and all the beer guys volunteered at the local food bank.  Knowing I am the chair of the Food Bank of Central and Eastern NC he asked me if we had volunteer opportunities at our food bank.  “Boy, do we,” came out of my mouth as fast as if I was a child being asked do you want candy and cookies for lunch.

 

See our food bank is in the top ten of the two hundred Feeding America Food Banks across the country in terms of volunteer utilization.  We have seven branches in our thirty-four counties and everyday we have volunteers working in our branches that more than double our paid work force.

 

Jay and I started to talk about what might be a good one-day job for Harris Beverages to do as a team building exercise for the whole company.  Now people can come and sort food, package potatoes or do any number of valuable jobs, but there was one thing I had in mind that was made for a group of strong men with big trucks so I floated the idea to Jay to have Harris help the Durham branch move from it’s old location to it’s new bigger branch.

 

The cost of moving would be thousands of real dollars to us if we had to pay for it.  Paying to move would have taken food away from people who need it.  If it cost us $8,000 that would equal $80,000 worth of food since we can turn every dollar into ten dollars worth of food.  But moving our warehouse was a big job.  Jay did not hesitate and got right on working out all the logistics with our staff.

 

This morning Harris beer trucks, pallet jacks and employees showed up early on a Saturday morning and moved us.  I hope they had fun because I know it was a big job.  That is the kind of corporate giving back that makes Harris a wonderful Durham company.  Thank you Jay for not even blinking an eye when I suggested helping with the move as a volunteer opportunity.  I am proud you are my friend.

 

To all the citizens of Durham and Chapel Hill if you are thinking about buying a beer this week or this month buy a Bud, or a Big Boss, Carolina Brewery, Sweet Water or a New Leaf Tea if you don’t like beer.  No one made Jay Harris volunteer to help the Food Bank.  We don’t give beer away as part of our mission to make sure no one in Central in Eastern NC goes hungry, but Jay wanted to do something to help us and boy did all those Harris Employees ever help.  So thank them by buying a beer.