Delving deeply into TMI territory

Ok, so here's the thing: apparently, as women age, certain areas of our bodies become, well, slightly less tropical, to not put too fine a point on it. Things are becoming a bit more arid in some of my regions. As a matter of fact, the WCM noted upon his last foray into the bush, that there was some danger of a brush fire. I did, in fact, feel the effects of this relative drought, later that evening, as the friction involved during his expedition left the area rather, ahem, scorched.

Upon realizing that the situation was, in fact, dire, I resolved upon the spot to find a solution to this problem. If there is to be a raging inferno in my loins, I'd rather it be the kind that leads to mind-numbing, bone-melting orgasms, and not to walking spraddle-legged and saddle-sore later. So I girded the aforementioned loins and decided on a sortie to Target - specifically, to the "feminine products" aisle.

My mission of finding lubrication became much more complicated than I had orginally anticipated. I had no idea of the scope of the product. Did I want a regular bottle of clear liquid or did I want a can of lubricating mousse? Or, perhaps, a mist application? Did I want a scent? And if so, did I want it fruity, flowery, or something entirely different? Did I want one large bottle, or did I want an assortment of smaller bottles, each with a different property? Oh, and speaking of properties, did I want it to warm me, cool me, soothe me, or make me tingle? Then, there is the brand issue - would one be considered the Ultimate Cheapskate if one purchased store-brand lube, as opposed to a brand name? We are in a recession, after all. Where, exactly, does one draw the line, if there is indeed a line to be drawn in such matters?

In the end, after spending ten minutes blushing and tittering in the aisle, I purchased a variety pack of individual packets - some warming, some tingling, some soothing, and two fruity flavored ones. That should make for some interesting moments, eh?

An intriguing culinary experiment

So I was browsing about the internet the other day, and I came across this site. It proposed the most intriguing combination of flavors I'd yet explored - a Bacon Cinnamon Roll.

Well, today, just for kicks, I tried putting these suckers together. I only needed 5 strips of bacon, so with the rest, I made Pig Candy.

I experimented a bit, and I microwaved the bacon to partially cook it before I rolled it into the pre-made cinnamon rolls. I followed the baking time suggested on the can, salivating all the time at the aroma wafting around the kitchen. I don't know who was worse, me or the dogs, but the mop has to come out in a minute to take care of the drool puddles.

Well, the result was somewhat disappointing: the pastry was delish, but the bacon was still undercooked, despite partially cooking it in the microwave first.

The pig candy, though, was exquisite.

Ah, well, I'm chalking this one up to a lesson learned.

I lied...

So, I lied about only having one vice. I have another.

Kissing.

I love the moment just before our lips meet, the quiet anticipation hanging still in the air. The softness of his mouth, tender and gentle on mine, is smooth as balm and warm as brandy. The soft silk of his inner lip as I swipe it teases my tongue, and I swallow the murmur of pleasure he makes. My nerve endings burn and tingle as he glides his mouth along my jaw, tracing a feather-light touch on my skin. The subtle scrape of teeth on my neck hardens my nipples and raises gooseflesh on my thighs. I surrender to my love and close my eyes completely, a blind slave to sensation.

As our kisses grow hotter, our tongues get bolder, tangling and writhing against one another as our bodies strain beneath our clothes. Our mouths, once soft, harden and thrust against one another. His hands mold my flesh and his arms pull me close, even as he tips my head back with the force of his embrace. A hand in my hair tugs my head further back, and I capture his lower lip between my teeth, gently trapping him to me as he pulls me away. Giving himself to me completely, he nuzzles my face, kissing around my mouth, tantalizing and teasing. Delicious.

Kissing is passion and tenderness, dominance and surrender, carnal and cerebral. It is the beginning and the ending, the pure and impure expression of love.

Mmmmm.

Everybody's got one

Vices, that is. Everybody's got at least one, and mine's food.

Still.

I suppose it could be worse, though. I don't smoke, I don't take drugs, and I rarely drink. What else is left, really?

So, yesterday, I took Miss Peanut to her Nana's house for the weekend. I asked the WCM if he'd like to, perhaps, be a grown-up with me and go do some fun stuff. You know, just the two of us. After he'd finished with the Groucho Marx eyebrows, he told me to find some stuff to do.

I came up with going on a trip into nearby Philadelphia - hitting Tony Luke's for lunch and doing either the Italian Market or the Reading Terminal Market for some interesting afternoon shopping. I'd also found a Dracula Festival, but the WCM put the kibosh on that, for whatever odd reason.

After our Saturday Morning Trader Joe's expedition, we unloaded quickly, then set off for Tony Luke's. If you've never been there before, you really need to go and get a Roast Pork Italian. Their cheesesteak is good, but honestly? Don't even waste your stomach space if you can get the Roast Pork Italian. You've got juicy sliced roast pork, liberally seasoned with salt and pepper, sharp provolone cheese, and garlicky broccoli rabe all nestled in a soft italian roll. Oh. Sweet. Jesus.

I nearly orgasmed after the first bite.

The WCM got the cheesesteak. He thought it was tasty, so after I'd finished about a third of my sandwich, I offered to trade. I ate what amounted to a quarter of his cheesesteak before my stomach told me to stop. It was good, but the Roast Pork was better. Seriously - if you get the chance to have one of these, you should.

The Reading Terminal Market - a foodie mecca. They had all kinds of cuisine, including my very favorite place in the world: Termini Brother's bakery. I love Termini's for the cannoli. They make, quite literally, the most mouth-watering cannoli that it has ever been my privilege to taste. My stepmother used to work in Center City, so every now and then, she'd stop into the market and pick up a couple of cannoli to bring home. Ah, memories... I got eight, had them box up six, and then the WCM and I ate the other two right on the spot. My God, but they are good.

We also scored an incredible stuffed pork roast - a gorgeous pork loin butterflied, then stuffed with spinach, provolone, roasted red pepper, and mild italian sausage. I'm going to roast that sucker tomorrow and serve it with some asparagus and some roasted garlic mashed potatoes. At another butcher's stall, we found some incredible-looking sausages: I got a pound each of Luganega, Sage Breakfast Sausage, and a Pork Broccoli Rabe sausage. I'm so ready for dinner this week!!! I found avocadoes for fifty cents apiece, too. Looks like there's guacamole in my near future. I bought a small container of organic raw milk, just for fun and botulism, from one of the Amish stands.

We tootled off down the road after grabbing some coffee, just in time to wonder what's for dinner.

Yeah, I've got a vice. And it's a tasty one!

Feeding my addiction, plus a PSA

So, a couple of weeks ago, I went to Melting Mama's site, where she was having a contest. The only thing you had to do to enter was to tell her how you liked your coffee. Since I'm a caffiend, and extremely free with my opinions, I told her all about how I liked my coffee.

Well, I won! She sent me a canister of Click, a coffee-flavored protein powder. Vanna White, eat your heart out.



Being a former Starbuck's 'ho and a current Dunkin Donuts regular, I was all over this. Please note the appliance closest to the canister.



Now, I just started having protein shakes recently, since I prefer to chew my calories. However, whenever I feel like something sweet, my Banana Scream shake (made with ice and half&half in the blender) is a bit healthier for me than the Oreos I'm likely to reach for instead. I've been curious about this Click stuff ever since Melting Mama started talking about it. Well, it arrived in my mail today, so I got busy with the blender!



I started out with about 2 cups of crushed ice, and wound up with about that same amount of half and half. Now, see, I know that most people are not going to use half & half with which to make a "healthy" protein shake. With my surgery, though, I won't absorb 80% of the fat I eat, so I make my shakes with half & half so I get enough fat in my diet. Wild, eh? My cholesterol at last check was 90. Ninety. Unreal. Anyway... I used 4 scoops of Click (30 g protein in all) and 2 scoops of UpCal D (Calcium Citrate with Vitamin D), then blended the stuff until it was all nice and shakey. Putting it into a rinsed-out Dunkin Donuts cup is key to my enjoyment - I'm passing for "normal" here! Nobody knows I'm drinking something good for me!



Holy Noms, Batman! The stuff tastes every bit as good as an Arby's Jamocha shake!



I'm giving Click a big thumbs up! Thanks Melting Mama!!

Never say I don't honor requests...

So a very lovely friend of mine emailed me and told me that she's tired of seeing Bourdain's puss on here when she visits, and could I please post something to push him further down on the page. Well, it was really about time, I s'pose, so here's a little something to shove him on down.

I went to a reunion yesterday. It has been 20 years since I graduated from high school. Twenty years. It's funny how those years seem like a lifetime, yet also like the blink of an eye. Some of my classmates are barely touched by those years, and others have been transfigured. Some things and people, though, haven't changed a bit.

One of my friends, perhaps the only one with whom I've tried to keep in contact, hasn't changed one iota. He's still the same quirky, funny, perceptive guy he always was. Possessed of a genuinely kind heart and married to a positively saintly woman, he let me tag along with him last night. See, my high school experience pretty much peaked in my freshman year. It was all downhill from there for me, with my senior year being, well, Hell with all its requisite emotional torment. I don't know how much he knows this, but he pretty much kept me afloat that year.

It was nice to see everyone again, and humbling to realize what a small life I've led in comparison to some. I've never lived outside the boundaries of my very small state. I've traveled fairly little in my 38 years. I got married extremely young, thereby de facto abdicating my independence and all the opportunities it could have brought. Don't get me wrong - I certainly could have done worse! But I had a wee bit of envy last night, chatting with my former classmates and catching up on what's they've been up to for the last two decades.

While I chatted, though, I realized something about that envy. It really was only a wee bit. Over the last year, I've grown into myself some. I'm comfortable, even happy at times, with who I am and what I've accomplished. And while I've led a fairly small life, it's been a rich and rewarding life. It's a life of relative contentment.

I got home really late, and found my household asleep. The WCM woke up a bit for me, snuggled me in tight to his nice solid warmth, and asked me if I'd had a good time. And you know what? It hit me then, that, yes, I had. I genuinely did have a good time. I might do it again, too, and not wait for another 20 years.

Oh so wrong, but...

Do you know that of all of the Food Network "personalities" out there, I find Anthony Bourdain the most repellent? I think he's an arrogant douchebag and wouldn't want to waste any time on him.

That said...



Just exactly how fucking wrong is it that this picture of him makes me want to get down on my knees and do dirty, dirty things with him?

Pretty fucking wrong, that's how wrong.

But I'd bet it would be oh so good...

A Toast - to Kicking Obesity's Ass

Ok, so all of you who are heartily sick of hearing me prattle endlessly about once being fat and then becoming unfat through the rather amazing Duodenal Switch surgery can just hit your back button now. Of course, you'll miss hearing about some really great bonding, a few personal triumphs, and the pseudo recipe for a truly incredible Martini. And also? My first experience with being a stalker.

Oh, still with me? Excellent.

The day started off pretty well - driving out to Conshohocken on the Blue Route, I recognized my friend Shari's car, and nearly scared her off the road by beeping and waving like a maniac. Because I'm related to Sammy Hagar (no, I'm not, really), I passed her and led her to the hotel where the Obesity Help conference was taking place. Having originally been dubious about the usefulness of a conference that was pitched to the mainly RNY crowd, I'd decided to go check it out, check out the vendors, and, failing any useful activity, hang out in the hotel bar with mah peeps. I was expecting to see my girl Shari, of course, plus my girl Sharon, my man Tom, and the amazing Melting Mama and Eggface.

The vendors turned out to be a bit of a disappointment - they'd had some no-shows and some pull-outs, so there were precious few freebies. But, I soldiered on, resolute. First thrill of the day? Melting Mama recognized me! "Peevish!" she said. Holy crap! thought I. But I managed to converse without sounding stupid. There's Personal Triumph Number 1. Then, I found that Tom had scored us a table in the back corner. The OH people had put out little goodie bags, with a folder, pen, and two bags of Kay's Naturals Protein Snacks. We busted out the protein chips and started sampling. Not bad. I also saw that two more of my peeps had arrived - Hedy and Heather.


Here's Hedy and me outside the conference.

Sharon had just arrived when they started the official introductions. The nice coordinator lady, Joanna, introduced our speakers: a well known plastic surgeon (who showed us some saggy nakey pics of the now nipped and tucked formerly obese), the "motivational speakers," the people I came to see (i.e., Beth & Michelle), and a bariatric surgeon who did "all the surgeries: RNY, Lap Band, and Revisions." Sharon & I exchanged a glance, and I just knew we'd be having a nice little "chat" with that particular surgeon later... We sneaked out a little early, because I couldn't take any more nakey pictures with boxy boobies, under the pretense of getting more coffee and had a nice girly hug and chat. You know, sometimes, when you meet someone and you just *click*? Well, that was Sharon. To quote my friend Shari, "Sharon's cool as ballz."

We made it back to the conference hall just before Beth & Michelle started their cooking demonstration. When we were walking through the room to get to our table, I noticed how small Sharon and I were compared to the rest of the attendees. At that point, Sharon turned around and said "Is it wrong of me to feel good..." and I knew she'd totally had the same thought. Nothing like shared schadenfreude. Beth gave a shout out to the DSers in the room - we hooted and hollered like baboons, except for Tom. Tom was an oasis of sanity (and testosterone) in our crazed midst. Tom also brought snacks. If anyone hinted at hunger, Tom hit them with his nuts - chili-lime Cashews or Trail mix from Trader Joe's. Nobody goes hungry when Tom's around, dammit. After the cooking demo, though, even Tom's nuts weren't hitting the spot. Spurred on by hunger, Sharon, Hedy, and I sallied forth to scout out something edible. It was then that we saw the Bariatric Surgeon from earlier.

Did I say we were like baboons earlier? Because at that point, with a glance and a raised eyebrow, we shifted species and changed from baboons to predatory lionesses as we went to beard this lion(ess) in her den. The poor woman never stood a chance, as she was stuck between two tables, and Sharon, Hedy, and I formed an impenetrable wall of DS might in front of her. I believe I may have fired the opening salvo by asking if she'd ever consider doing the DS. To her credit, she did not diss the surgery one bit, and merely stated that it was the next level up in technical difficulty from the RNY, and that she wasn't ready to start it yet. She seemed startled when I revealed to her that we three were all DSers, blurting out "and you're three of the thinnest people here!" Hello, personal triumph number 2.

After winding up our kill chat, we wiped the blood from our mouths split up to hunt solo accomplish some things: like visit the potty. There was, of course, the inevitable line. Having consumed about 3 large cups of coffee at this point, trying to scout out another potty was out. of. the. question. Sharon, meanwhile, having been fed up, or rather not fed up, ran across the street to Wawa and scored us some tubs of pepperoni & cheese. LOVE HER!!

The first of the motivational speakers came on, with a powerpoint that would do any seventh grader proud. Sharon, Hedy, and I made it through about 5 minutes of that lady before we had to bail. Back out we went and decided to check out the plastic surgeons giving consults. Hedy signed up for an appointment, and Sharon, Heather, and I decided to crash it. By this time, Beth & Michelle were out in the hall giving out samples. Beth had brought some awesome chewable vitamin samples from Celebrate. I'll vouch for them: they were delish! The cocoa flavored calcium? Nom nom nom. And also? Samples of the new sweetener Truvia, being offered by Coca Cola. Not bad at all.


'Cuz DSers loooove salad - NOT!

We hovered a bit around the banquet tables while they were putting out the food - very healthy fare: deli meats and cheeses, a selection of breads, grilled chicken breast, grilled vegetables, and salad. There was fruit and a teensy pudding parfait for dinner. I'd heard it was sugar-free, so I passed on it. Tom, however, got one. I think the expression on his face says it all.



The general concensus on that pudding parfait was not only did it taste like ass, but most of us had had ass that tasted better, and it had a nasty aftertaste, which we dubbed the "asstertaste."

The plastic surgery consult was next, and it was hilarious. While we were waiting, we showed each other, as well as several perfect strangers, our scars. I bared my scarred-up, stretch-mark-blasted midsection for the camera even. Yeah, say it with me "sex-ay!"


Baring my gut to perfect strangers! Shameless hussy!

The surgeon was so nice and patient with all of our questions, that I gave him all of my information, and will even call my insurance company to see what, if anything, they'll cover.

At that point, we gave up on the conference and hit the bar for the most perfect martinis ever.


Sharon (Cosmo), Hedy (Chocolate Martini), and me (Naples Martini)

I had a Naples Martini, which was Stoli Razz, Limoncello, lime juice, and simple syrup all shaken up and served in a chilled glass. I believe there were two of them during that afternoon... *hic* Shari and Ray found us there, as did Beth a little later.


Sharon, Shari, Beth, me

We all headed back to catch the end of the conference, when they were giving away the door prizes. Sharon and I got no joy, but Shari ended up with a toaster, that I traded away for a jar of chocolate PB2. Sharon and Shari took off for home, but since I had nobody at home to worry about, I hung around and chatted with a couple of Delaware people that were waiting in the lobby.

It was then that I experienced Personal Triumph Number 3: while chatting with Hambear, a lovely lower Delawarean, another older lady approached me and said "Do you mind if I ask you, I've been wanting to ask you since I saw you this morning, did you have weight loss surgery?" Well, damn if that didn't about blow my mind. Then, once she'd received my affirmative, she asked if I'd had plastics. She just shook her head in disbelief when I told her no. I took that opportunity to "Pay It Forward," and told her all about the DS.

At that point, I pretty much attached myself to Beth and became her personal stalker for the evening, trailing her to the bar (where I said "buongiorno" to Naples Martini Number 3), her hotel room (total stalker!) and then to dinner. I called it a night at about 9:30 and headed down the Blue Route to home.

Overall, I'm sad that there weren't more vendors - they had a captivated and eager audience they really missed out on capitalizing upon - but thrilled beyond belief with the opportunity I had to meet and connect with others who've lived this same experience.

Here's to kicking Obesity's Great Big Ass. To your health!

Meme

You can only type ONE Word! Not as easy as you might think.
Now change the answers to suit you and repost it in your journal.Remember-- only ONE word!

1. Where is your cell phone? Charging
2. Where is your significant other? Lounging
3. Your hair? Dark
4. Your mother? Self-absorbed
5. Your father? Erudite
7. what was your dream last night? Confusing
8. Your dream/goal? Love
9. The room you're in? Bedroom
10. Your hobby? Defunct
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Chair
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. What you're not? Republican
15. Favorite person? Loads
16. One of your wish list items? Maid
17. Where you grew up? Here
18. The last thing you did? Pee
19. What are you wearing? Jammies
20. Your TV? Ginormous
21. Your pet? old
22. Your computer? Pink
24. Your mood? Cynical
25. Missing someone? Yes
26. Your car? Spacepod!
27. Something you're not wearing? Underwear!
28. Favorite store? AnnTaylorLOFT
29. Your summer? Lazy
30 Love someone? yes
31. Your favorite color? Emerald
32. When is the last time you laughed? today
33. Last time you cried? Onions
34. Who will repost this? Somebody
35. One word to best describe yourself? Nurturing

Thanks to my friend Melanie for this one.