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Is today over yet? [Sep. 24th, 2010|10:41 am]
For Kiltboy:


I am not a nice person when it comes to home-grown zucchini. Don’t get me wrong, I actually love it. Grilled, roasted, shredded and stir-fried, sautéed with onions and cumin, ribboned and mixed with pasta, in ratatouille, with sausage and beans....loves me the zucchini. But seriously, people, if you’re going to grow it, keep on top of it. An inch wide in diameter, PICK THAT SUMBITCH! Zucchini is like toasting pine nuts – not done, not done, not done, not done, just starting to brown, BURNT. Fail to make eye contact with the zucchini and get it the hell off the vine and suddenly, it’s a two inch wide monsterveg. We used to call them horsesquash. Good for feeding livestock, but you wouldn’t expect a human to eat it. I have joked “What is that food, or a home defense weapon?”

Joke no more, Turnip:

I have been peer-pressured into attending my high-school reunion. Which is appropriate for a high school reunion, no? (It helps that a family member has a milestone to celebrate that same weekend and I’ve been getting a guilt-trip for missing that.)

Of course now it’s time to panic, because it’s only a few weeks away and I’m packing a good ten more pounds than I am comfortable with. No, seriously, save yourselves the compliments. I adore them, but really, I’m not talking about getting down to an ideal weight, or where I want to be, or....I’m talking about ten pounds that have become extra. The ten pounds that make me feel not good about wearing most of my clothes. That creep out of the spandex. I don’t seem to carry it in my face as much as I used to...but as I’ve aged, it’s gone elsewhere. An uncomfortable elsewhere. A what-the-hell-is-that-around-my-waist, a flotation device?

Am I realistically going to lose ten pounds in the next two weeks? Oh, no – but c’mon even a little bit would be fine. Just enough so that I can tame the flotation device with spandex. But honestly, this is some stubborn-ass fat. I’m already all stressed out with no one to choke. And now I’m standing in grocery lines looking at my completely non-processed, full of whole grains and veggies, lean protein grocery items. And the people in front and back of me have ice cream, and chips and cookies, and cakes and candy and boxes of mac and cheese, and gross oddly colored baked goods, and hot dogs and....seriously, my Bitter is in the red zone.

Although please note, this is about me feeling good about myself. Do I feel an overwhelming need to look oh, so fab-oo for my reunion? Dude, I haven’t seen these people in 30 years. I look good enough. I am on the good side of the bell curve, even with my flotation device. Not bad for being as close to 50 as I am to 45. I just want to be able to sit down without wondering “what the hell is THAT around my waist!?”

Sure, I'm blowing it every weekend, but during the week, I am abstemious. Honestly, another bowl of freaking lettuce and I'm going to scream. To no avail. My metabolism is just sitting like there like that selfish expletive who takes up a seat on the metro with his bookbag and then carefully refuses to make eye contact with you, daring you to ask him to move his precious sack.

Look at me when I'm talking to you, Metabolism. Don't make me drag you, kicking and screaming, to a gym.

Maybe I’m growing a zucchini in my gut....

[User Picture]From: dawntreader90
2010-09-24 03:17 pm (UTC)
ABSTEMIOUS!!! oooooo. :D i'm pretty good with awesome words, but that's a new one for me. i love it!!!

my favourite part of the Failblog pic is the little wrench light. one of the comments was "looks like he needs to be serviced! if you know what i mean." lol
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[User Picture]From: sweetpea86
2010-09-24 03:20 pm (UTC)
"precious sack"

You type a lot of words, all good stuff, but how do you expect me to focus on all that came before when you end with THAT?

Seriously, you ask a lot of This Reader.
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[User Picture]From: sestree
2010-09-24 03:42 pm (UTC)
close to 50 as I am to 45

Honey, unless my math is rusty you got-WE got another year before that happens.

This is an even year. Next year is the odd year.

I keep threatening to send my metabolism to bed without supper but it just sneaks out in the middle of the night for icecream.


Spanking does no good either.
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[User Picture]From: terribleturnip
2010-09-24 05:07 pm (UTC)
I'm older than you are, sweetcheeks.
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[User Picture]From: sestree
2010-09-24 05:10 pm (UTC)
wasn't it only by a couple of weeks? it wasn't a year and a couple of weeks was it?

Oh well either way you're still sexier with a much hotter rack ;)
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[User Picture]From: sequinedlovenun
2010-09-24 06:43 pm (UTC)
Hey, I'm on that same bitter lettuce wagon with you! I suddenly realized (while looking at photos D. took of me at the beach) that I am fat. Sure, stuff me into a corset and I look GREAT, but once those laces are released.....POOF!!! It's the staypufft Marshmallow Girl.
And just think, all day everyday I am surrounded by 20 yr old hotties who are in the prime of their metabolism years...sure honey go ahead and eat that ice cream sundae right in front of me....don't mind the knife in my hand...At least you're in cubeworld where there are probably a plethora of fat bastards....grumbling off now to go eat some more lettuce....
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[User Picture]From: terribleturnip
2010-09-24 07:30 pm (UTC)
Right here, in my aisle are two women who can't donate blood because they don't weigh over 110 pounds. Just my luck, I happen to work in the youngest, "hottest" department in the company. The woman across from me eats constantly and doesn't gain an ounce. I suspect she sends it across the aisle because I gain wait just listening to her.

And of course, all my good intentions...and so far I've had to sample two new breads today and a Coffee-Pecan Bacon. And a cheese. So much for no-carbs and lean proteins...this is why I drink.
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