Don't be a Hatersexual

My dad had a request for Father's day this year. He wanted to march in the first ever Pride parade in my hometown. My family still lives there, and I'm the only one that doesn't. This place is not as bad as Eastwick, but it's still in the Bible belt. So, my 60-something raised in the south dad wanted to march. People were very nervous about what to expect. Baptist churches had obtained permits to protest on the sidewalks. In fact, one Baptist preacher was caught on tape trying to get people to follow the parade and taunt people. The police, surprisingly, put him in his place. I noticed that the protesters were very concerned about people getting it up the butt. This kind of freaked me out. In the end, there were around 700 Pride marchers and 100 protesters. I was very proud of my dad and my hometown today. I have friends that have to say things like, "Well, I'm not excusing my dad for feeling the way he does about gay people, but he was raised in the south, and he is from a different generation." You know what? My dad is too, and he wore the most colorful shirt he had today and marched. I don't have any family members that are gay...at least that I know of. My parents just raised us to believe that you should treat people with dignity and respect. It was just a great day, and I will remember my dad marching in the Pride parade for the rest of my years. It just makes me smile.

Weight Loss is a Bitch

I haven't given an update on my weight loss journey since the beginning, so here it goes. As a wise woman once said, "Weight Watchers can kiss the very fattest part of my ass." It has not been easy, but I have lost a total of 17 pounds. My goal was 20, so I'm not far off. My clothes don't fit anymore, which is kind of a nice feeling. I need to buy some new ones, but I don't have a ton of extra cash, so I will be digging in the bargain bins. I have some dresses that I love, so I'm just going to have those altered. I want to reach my goal weight before I do that, though.

Now I have the actual weight loss under control, and I want to start working on building some muscle. I hate weight training, so I need some creative ideas here. Anyone? Anyone? I would love to get into some cute bathing suits this summer, so I really need to come up with a plan soon.

There are a few people I need to thank because without them, I would not have pedaled away on my elliptical.

Vanilla Ice - I rolled all the way to a 17 pound weight loss in my 5.0, so thanks.
Mary J. Blige - Girl, I "no more dramaed" my way to a firmer ass.
Poison - Just hearing Don't Need Nothin' but a Good Time makes me start to sweat.
Katy Perry - You didn't make me want to kiss a girl, but now some may want to kiss me.

Later...

Giving

I usually reserve this space to bitch about shit, hence the name of the blog. I thought I would share something nice for a change. I've been mentoring an 18-year old girl for over a year now. She's a high school dropout, and she's a sexual abuse survivor. She's currently going back to school and able to earn both high school and college credit at the same time. She did really well her first few semesters, but then she decided she wanted to move out of her guardian's house. I knew this wasn't a good idea, but I also knew she had to figure it out for herself. Long story short, she didn't do very well in school, and she's having to reevaluate her situation. I met her for lunch last week, and I was prepared to do anything to get her to move back in with her guardian. I started to say something, and she just blurted out, "I'm moving back home." I was so relieved. We went on to talk for about 2 hours, and she has a good plan for this semester. We're going to meet 2 days a week at the local library and study together. I'm taking graduate classes, so I'll just study at the library instead of at home. She really seemed to have it together. She told me that she was glad I was there for her and that she wished she could do something for me. I told her she could. She can graduate, and she can go on to mentor someone else who really needs it. I know she's going to make it, but send good vibes her way anyway. It couldn't hurt.

2008 Windin' Down

I decided to dig through my 2008 posts and pick the best one. I was thinking that I couldn't possibly narrow it down, but then I found the post about Patricia. Remember her? She was the Avon lady that wouldn't get out of my fucking way last January. Here's a blast from the past. Enjoy!

Damn, Patricia

Pay It Forward

Several months ago, I had been bitching about not knowing what to do with my old wedding dress. It was a beautiful dress and had only been worn once. ;) Ha! Anyway, it had been hanging in my dad's closet for years now. I spent way too much money on it, and I had the slip and the veil that matched it. A few weeks ago, my mom called. She said that a woman she worked with wanted to see the dress. The woman is getting married next year, and she needed to find a good deal on a dress. Again, my dress was expensive, so even at half price it was probably too expensive to be called a "deal." I told my mom to do whatever. I loved the dress, but where in the hell was I going to wear it?

My mom called last week and asked me what I was going to do. I said, "Give it to her." My mom took the dress to her, and she cried. She couldn't believe that I was going to give it to her. She said that she took it home for her mother to see, and her mother cried too. The mother couldn't believe that someone just gave her a dress. It felt really good. I don't really feel like I can tell anyone in real life because that would feel like bragging. I can tell the blogsphere because it's like my journal.

The lesson is to pay it forward. I still feel so good about giving her that dress. I loved the dress, but the marriage didn't really work out. I hope she enjoys it and gets the marriage too. She's going to send me a picture after the wedding. It's just a good day.

The Bitches Heart Pie!

It's Pie Time, people! The Bitches have been so hot this summer that their favorite dessert has been a good, cold pie. We don't like to just make a regular pie. No, no, no. You will not come over and have a simple slice of key lime pie. It has to have a good name. Here is what we've made so far, and Sukie might add to this list.

1. Gary Cherry Pie
2. The Nutty Goodness
3. A Shot of My Baby's Love Pie
4. Mama's Gettin' Drunk Tonight Pie
5. Mama Needs a Motherfuckin' Raise Pie

Please submit your pie names. You will need to give us one main ingriedent to work with, and we shall develop a recipe. Start sending them in now!

The Redneck Festival

Well, tonight I attended the annual Redneck Festival. It's really called that. It's a few small towns over from Eastwick, and we always have a great time. Admission is free. All money spent on food, beer, and t-shirts is given to a local charity. And, the best part, we can take the dogs! You bring your chair, your dogs, and your friends, and you get to listen to some great bluegrass music. This was the 28th year for the festival, and it rocked as usual. When the two founders go by the names of Punk and Cowboy, you know you're gonna have a good time. I meant to take my camera, but in all of the hurrying to get out of the house...I forgot it. So, Redneck Festival, my hat is off to you for yet another great year of music, friends, and beer! This is one small advantage to living in Eastwick. This is rare, so enjoy. ;)

It's Like an Episode of Friends

Do you remember when Joey and Chandler got free porn and were afraid to turn it off? Well, it has happened to me and Mr. Bitchford. We were flipping through channels, and I saw a huge breast. I yelled, "Hey! That was a huge breast. Turn that back." He did. Sure enough, it's the Playboy channel...in Spanish. Currently, there is a "story" on about scantily clad women wrestling in a real ring. Of course, ever so often, their clothes catch on something and get ripped off. Even as we speak, Luciano is giving it to Estella in the ring. We don't really watch porn, but it is hard to turn the channel. What if it goes away? If I start speaking Spanish, should I tell people how I picked it back up? Wouldn't that be fun? Si?

Good Ole Pansy-Boys

I just got back from a city council pre-meeting (which is evidently like a meeting before the meeting next week).

I won't bore you with the details of what the meeting was about because that's not really my point.

Side note: I am also ALWAYS the youngest person at city council meetings. Apparently, only old, fat, white men (and a few of their stuck-up, never-worked-a-day-in-my-life society wives) give a shit what happens in this town.

With that preface, allow me to get to my point, which is two-fold:

1) I do not like nor do I trust men who cannot give me a firm handshake. Give me that wet noodle, and you're already on my suspect/black list. Man up. Reach deep down to the balls God gave you and put a little man into it for crying out loud.

2) Old, fat, white men think they rule the fucking world. They think their opinions are the only ones that matter (except the ones they've instilled in their stuck-up, never-worked-a-day-in-my-life society wives, which are of course, the same opinions they have). And, naturally, they're right, and everyone else is an idiot.

Conclusion: When you're one of only three women in a room, and the other two are brainwashed by old, fat, white men who think they rule the world (but are really pansies who can't even shake a hand with the firmness of soggy bread), and you're the only person under the age of 50, IT SUCKS! Fucking good ole boys.

Too bad they never met me. After staying afterwards to discuss the full facts with the Director of the Planning and Transportation Division (who reminds me of Lindsey Graham but patiently answered all my questions and provided me with everything I asked) and collect some research from him, I am armed and ready to form my own damn opinion and fight for it and mobilize the forces if necessary.

Muhahaha...I am the worst nightmare of Southern Good Ole Boys (old, fat, white pansies!) everywhere!

Theme Song

I've decided that Sukie and I spend so much time together that we need a theme song. Whenever we walk the halls of our offices with our flowing hair blowing out all around us, this song will be playing. When we are waiting at our bus stop looking ravishing in our work outfits and commuter footwear, this song will be be playing. When we are in meetings with Mr. Vomit and decide that we've had enough of his shit, this song will be playing as we exit. Watch out Eastwick! The Bitches are coming!

My Mothership

I have found my mothership, or as George Clinton would say, "my interplanetary funksmanship." It is in the form of a television show. The travel channel featured a segment called Deep Fried Paradise today. It was wonderful. My mouth watered as my new television showcased the glistening fried pickles and the decadent fried Twinkies. Then it happened. Something I have never seen before appeared on my screen, and I had to sit up in bed (yes, I was watching this in bed) to get a better look. Are you ready for this? It was chicken fried bacon. Genius! I've now spent the last part of a beautiful afternoon pestering the shit out of Mr. Bitchford because I want him to make some. I'll report back on its tasty, artery clogging goodness as soon as I can get him to break down and make it.

UPDATE: Mr. Bitchford said, "Hell to the no." I wasn't aware of his Whitney Houston vocabulary. I'm still working on him.

This Shit Cracks Me Up!

Ode to My Sister

The fluffy hair, the synchronized dance moves, the flying V guitars...the list could go on. I know you'll remember this, Sissy, and I hope you enjoy it. :)

The Things You Read

I frequent a news forum, and I really enjoy it. Most of the time I can find good conversation and a few laughs. I thought I would share some of my favorites. One time, a woman was just on fire about a political subject. She typed, "That's my onion, and I'm sticking to it!" She meant opinion. Cracked my shit up!

Another time, a person was trying to describe what most of us would call a goody two shoes, but he/she didn't really know how to put it into words. The person typed, "Well, at least I'm not a goody goody tissues!" Ha!

Finally, I snorted out loud one day from my cube when I read the following. "Does anyone have some chester drawers for sale?" Chester drawers? Chester drawers? Oh! You mean a chest of drawers. Hee hee!

History in the Making

Tonight, Barack Obama becomes the first African-American major party presidential candidate in the nation's history.

Now, we just have to wait for him to make it to the White House.

Ahhh...The Smokey Aroma

I was going through some boxes in the attic, and I found a treasure from my teenage years. It was a Skid Row t-shirt! I loved Sebastian Bach. The hair, the lips, the long and lean body, everything. He was perfection to me. I still love the look, but I now refer to it as the smokey aroma. I have taken shit for liking kinda dirty, long haired men for awhile. Everyone thinks it's funny and out of character for me. I don't care. I still love me some smokey aroma. Here is a tribute to my Skid Row t-shirt. May it rest in peace because it will never again stretch across my breasts.

Sisqo Would be Proud

The Cougar's knitted thongs arrived today! They are fabulous and wonderful. In case you were wondering, they are very soft and seem like they would be comfortable. I would highly recommend ordering these for gifts or just as a treat for yourself. I ran by the mail room to see if they had arrived, and I was on my way to a fundraising meeting. There were a ton of old, white men at this meeting. It pleased me to know that I had four hand knit thongs in my bag. At one point, I kept envisioning myself dancing on the boardroom table and throwing the thongs in all of their faces. I found myself humming the following:

"She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
Baby move your butt butt butt
Uh I think to sing it again
She had dumps like a truck truck truck
Thighs like what what what
All night long
Let me see that thong"

A girl can dream...

Dancing Queen

I started a morning routine a few months back because I thought exercise would help my stress levels. It has helped, but I've started to get bored on my same old elliptical machine. I bought some new songs for my Ipod, but that didn't really help to motivate me either. The truth is that I used to LOVE Jazzercise. I would go surround myself with middle-aged ladies in spandex and dance my hour of exercise away. I moved, and there are no Jazzercise places close to me. My favorite part of Jazzercise was step class. I learned how to do all of these crazy-ass routines, and it was fun. I looked like an idiot, but I didn't really care. I've been threatening to buy a step for awhile, but I couldn't find one for less than $50. I think that's crazy! Mr. Bitchford kept trying to get me to purchase one, and this morning he brought one home. I was so excited. I just finished my first workout on my new step, and I think I've already gotten $50 worth of fun out of it. If I'm going to use it, I guess I shouldn't worry about how much it costs. Here's a pic of my new stress reliever.

I'm so Christian, I named my kid after it!

I know that it's probably wrong that when I saw this on our class reunion site it made me laugh out loud, but it did (just add that to the list of reasons I'm going to hell).

"Well, lets see. First of all, I am a christian. I love the Lord with all my heart. I have been married to my husband Chris since july 2000. Then in June, 2003 God blessed Chris and I with a son. His name is Christian. He attends XXX Christian School. I am a house wife, which I love. It ables me to be fully involved with works for God and to be able to do for my family."

Come on...christian, chris, christian, chris, christian...me thinks she doth praise too much!

Oh--did I mention her name is "Angel." Self-fulfilling prophecy maybe?

New Kicks!

Check out my new kicks! Do you think The Cougar would accept that I bought these in honor of her wedding rather than giving money to Big New Church? If you are completely lost, please read the entry below.