I’ve decided that since Facebook isn’t actually showing my posts anymore – one has to click at least twice to dig down through the menus — I’m going to make my pithy remarks here. After all, you guys are the only ones actually reading this blog and I love you for it.
Life in general is wonderful, and I’m not sure that’s entirely due to the anti-anxiety herbs my chiro is giving me for my freeway claustrophobia. Every day away from the June day on which I freed myself from anger and frustration is another day of happiness. Sometimes I wish I were more regretful about leaving teaching, but then I have to slap myself into a reality check.
One of the things that is wonderful but also scary is that I’m dreaming again. For some reason, my Darth Vader CPAP mask keeps me from remembering my dreams. I just wake up refreshed with deep indents on my face where the straps were, and that’s a small price to pay for a good night’s sleep. The experts say that remembering dreams is a sign of good sleep, but I know I sleep very soundly with the CPAP.
Now I’m trying out the dental appliance, and I can remember my dreams. The first night I wore the appliance, I had a nightmare and woke up screaming that someone was breaking into the house. I will assume that was claustrophobia-driven, since I had this alien thing in my mouth. Recently, I’ve had dreams about wedding showers and being in a movie, which is not surprising since I’ve got my son’s wedding coming up and have been trying to see the Academy Award nominated movies. Growing up, I had a recurring nightmare about being followed that I recently had again. I’m not sure that I like having these dreams — I’ve gotten used to not having them. It will be interesting when I have the sleep study in March with the appliance and find out how many sleep disturbances I actually have.
I hope that you are also following the trajectory of Got My Reservations. I’ve been trying out new ideas to see what people really want to read. It’s fun and makes my brain work, which is good for me at my advanced age. 🙂
The Pillsbury Doughboy died last Friday of a yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 51.
Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, who has a bun in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.
Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. The ceremonies were leavened with lighthearted reminiscences. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, Melba Toast, The California Raisins, Betty Crocker, and Captain Crunch. Sadly, The Hostess Twinkies were unable to attend as they recently bit the dust themselves. The grave site was piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy, and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes.
Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was considered a roll model for millions.
The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes on Tuesday.
I found this lesson in idioms in my paperwork, and thought it should have one more airing before being confined to the recycle bin. I hope you enjoyed it. 🙂
On Friday I went to Costco and was so horrified by what I saw that I decided to write about it.
What, you are asking, could horrify me so?
If I saw one more flabby ass in skin-tight leggings and a short shirt, I was going to have to slap the stupid woman wearing them. In other words, leggings worn as pants are NEVER acceptable in public. Even this picture of the stunning Olivia Wilde tells you that they look bad. And trust me, none of us look like Olivia Wilde — not even in our wildest dreams.
Let’s get one thing clear: if you are older than five, you are too old to wear leggings as pants. I can’t tell you how many middle-school girls wore skin-tight pleggings to school with short shirts that didn’t cover their butt or their hoo-has. Really? Is that what their mothers and fathers wanted the middle school boys to think about all day?
I don’t hate leggings. Even I have leggings that I wear with long tunic tops and short sweater dresses. They are comfortable and appropriate for a mature woman if worn with a suitable tunic top. Apparently women wear them in France with tunics, so they must still be fashionable as well.
So ladies, get a grip. Grown-ups do not wear pleggings. Don’t let your daughters wear pleggings. End of story. And don’t even talk to me about meggings. Surely this is someone’s idea of a cruel joke.
There’s a lot going on at The Farm these days.
I’ve been following a Weight Watchers’ regimen for 14 days and I’ve lost six pounds, give or take a couple of ounces. Yay me! I’ve found that banning the idea of “cheating” and replacing it with “choice” has possibly been a turning point for me. If I decide — make the choice — to eat something with lots of points, I have to make up for it somewhere else. It’s as simple as that, and it’s working for me. Yay me, again.
Just when I thought I’d established a workout routine that would work for me, I lost Cooking Channel at my gym. There is a wonderful program on at 11:30 C called French Food at Home with Laura Calder that I really liked. I would stake out the reclining bike and happily pedal for 30 minutes while charming Laura made something beautiful. I don’t get the Cooking Channel at home, but that’s not really the point. This program made the 11:30 time slot at the gym a destination for me and I’m bummed. I’m going to have to pursue this tomorrow with the guys at the front desk…
I’ve been reworking some things on my blog and taking advantage of the built-in programming in Goodreads rather than reinventing the wheel in WordPress. My Mt. TBR is getting higher and higher, though. 🙂
We’re also getting ready for Big Band Sunday, Music Man’s annual tour de force at our church. He gathers together a group of rockin’ musicians and we play the entire worship service “big band style” — and I have to admit it’s the highlight of my church year. This year, we’ll swing for God on February 10, 2013 at Trinity United Methodist Church in Mt. Prospect. Come and join us!
I resolve to shower and dress before I go downstairs. 2012 found me in my pajamas at 4:00 in the afternoon too many days.
I resolve to wait to weigh myself until I’ve had my moment with the porcelain bowl. It makes a difference in my weight loss charting but might have been TMI to share here. I promised you honesty, though.
I resolve to use Goodreads with intention and actually write reviews. Usually I’m too eager to start the next book to take time to review the one I just finished. You can find me using the name GotMyReservations if you’re interested in what I’m reading and writing.
Seriously, folks, there are some resolutions out there on my horizon, but they’re not much different from when I started writing about retirement in June. I’m serious about weight loss and getting healthier and have two goal timelines — the trip to France in April and the wedding of my son in September. I’m still sorting and purging our stuff, even though at this point it seems as though it will take more than a year to even make a dent. On the other side of the ledger are my growth as a photographer and a writer. I’m really pleased with the changes I’ve made to Got My Reservations and the direction I’m taking with it — I hope that you are following Reservations along with Retirement 365.
I’ll leave you with a January 1 photo taken at Dawes Park in Evanston. I love the contrast between the light and dark in this photo. Happy New Year!