One of the mini-est rants ever: I hate that my body at almost 40 can’t handle the crap food it used to when I was in my 20s. I noticed it especially the last couple of years. I eat junk and my body just flips out on me.
I had a fairly healthy breakfast - fruit alongside a piece of whole wheat toast with cream cheese and cucumbers. Then my family wanted to go out for lunch. Since we had to do errands and the kids got really hungry, somehow we wound up at Panda Express. My stomach has not stopped gurgling and churning since and my head is killing me. It’s horrid. And it happens almost every time I eat junk out. I really wish I had my 20 year old pre-epileptic, non-gastronomically challenged body back alongside the experience and knowledge of my 38 year old self.
Haha I know what you mean. I’m only 31 but already I get food hangovers if I pig out at a party the night before. I thought it was from drinking (which I can’t do much of anymore either) but I stopped drinking and still had hangovers. I guess it’s the body’s way of telling us to lay off the junk food.
Oh, how I wish I had the metabolism of my youth back.
The other day I was remembering how I would eat at the breakfast meetings I would attend when I was in my late 20’s/early 30’s. Everyone else would be eating fruit and yogurt and maybe an egg white omelet with dry toast. I would generally have fried eggs, biscuits with gravy and sausage or bacon.
And I was 5’8" and weighed 130 pounds. Oh, God, how they all must’ve hated me.
Aww, fuck. Long, complicated story, but it looks like in order to fix the computer, my game that I downloaded will have to be erased. And the game is no longer available anywhere!! I loved that game!
Many belated but still supportive hugs to Purplehorseshoe and to Spice Weasel I’m so sorry for both of you. I’ve lost friends and I’ve lost pets, and it sucks, but that doesn’t compare to the pain you are suffering.
When my rescue director died, and I still miss her something terrible, someone told me that she knew just how I felt because her dog died last year. NO YOU DON’T, you are a fucking idiot and should just shut up.
LavenderBlue Could you send me the link for your book? I lost it somewhere and I need to buy a copy for someone. Someone I used to respect, someone I thought was an intelligent and educated person. She’s an engineer for fuck’s sake and when I mentioned that my arm was sore because I had just gotten my flu shot, she started sprouting a bunch of anti-vax nonsense. She has convinced her daughter to home school her new baby so that the baby won’t have to get vaccinated. There are not enough :smack::smack::smack: for this, so I’ll try to fight ignorance with facts.
I get my inside only cats vaccinated for crying out loud. Buttercup is up to date on her rabies shots and she is probably in no danger of exposure. I have my pre-exposure rabies shots and I keep them current, and I’m probably not in any danger because I use traps and gloves.
Ignorance kills, but anti-vax people were probably already vaccinated and now they are risking their children and don’t seem to get it.
Sorry…that really wasn’t my rant. My rant is that I now officially hate Oklahoma. All of the people there seem to be very nice. The workers at the oil fields are kind to the strays and will help me trap them.
However, the dirt gets everywhere. We close up our trailer when we leave and when we go back, there is dust and grit all over everything. I have to vacuum the bed before I put fresh sheets on. I store the clean sheets in those plastic zippered bags and the grit manages to get into them. All I have to do to get grit in my hair is walk outside. I’ve got scratches on my glasses just from standing outside in the wind.
Sorry to the Dopers who live there and love it, but dang…I’ll be so happy when the build moves somewhere else but the windswept wastelands.
I hope this isn’t going to look spammy but here’s the link to the book:
I feel so awful today. I keep hearing my friend Moira’s voice when I do errands. I would run into her at the park or the shopping center or the library or my girl’s school. She’d grin, do the Moira silly dance for my little one and wait for my daughter’s delicious baby laugh. I kept hoping that one day we’d get a miracle and the cancer would be gone. But I knew they didn’t catch it until it was stage four so I suppose it was amazing she lived another four years afterwards.
But oh her children. Her eldest just starting college and her son just eleven. She loved her them so much. She was a good mother.She took her eldest child around to see colleges last spring and then spent days deservedly bragging about the scholarships Lizzie had been offered. Her poor son. He wanted so badly to make her better and we knew there was nothing he could do. The last time I saw her there was something in his face that knew her time was short. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be okay. But instead I just told him to come to my house if he ever needed anything. The funeral is Monday. I hope it rains fiercely that day. I am going to bring the little one for ten minutes and then take her to nearby park. She always made Moira smile. I think a small smile may be fine when I say goodbye.
I don’t think its spammy if someone has asked you for the link. Thank you for posting it. I just bought a copy, its good ammo for talking to idiots.
More hugs. I do understand how much it hurts to lose such a brave friend. Its been 4 years since Lolli died (on my birthday). I still miss her, I still cry when I see those stupid dancing dolls that she loved so much. When I look at the silly cat earrings she gave me, I cry.
Love is forever and as long as you remember her, she won’t really be gone.
Thanks to my idiot friend of a friend, I have now been exposed to the Loony Tunes notions of Judy Converse. LavenderBlue, your link couldn’t be more timely or welcome. If I could afford it right now, I’d buy copies to throw at these GD, MFing “Thinking Moms.” Every time I think I’ve learned the true depths of the stupidity, willful ignorance, and pure numb-nuttery of these blithering idiots, they invent brand new levels of dim-witted fuckery.
Please consider a discussion with your publisher - I’d like a super-heavy version of this book, for more effective throwing.
So we’re out of horseradish and I ask Mrs. J. to replenish the larder.
She comes home with a bottle of horseradish that looks OK. But the ingredient list, in addition to grated horseradish, vinegar and salt, includes soybean oil :dubious: and artificial flavor. :eek::mad:
Goddamit, horseradish should only have vinegar and salt added. Pure horseradish has enough flavor to make your hair stand on end, no artificial crapola needed.
Next thing you know, they’ll be selling GMO horseradish which will turn you into a newt. :smack:
So I’m buying dried cranberries and there’s a choice between “sweetened” and “all-natural.” I buy the latter, get home and look at the ingredients: cranberries, sugar, sunflower oil. What the hell?
I’m pitting myself today for being such a klutz. So far this weekend I’ve cut my finger quite badly changing a lightbulb, tripped over the cat and messed up my already bad knee, burned myself on the oven, and barked my shin on the heavy wood coffee table that hadn’t moved in 10+ years until I hit it hard enough to scooch it a good six inches. I’d just curl up on the couch the rest of the day but I’d probably get caught in the recliner mechanism or something.
I was stone cold sober, in broad daylight, and had my glasses on for all four incidents. Maybe I’m better off stumbling around drunk…
IANAD but I’m pretty sure that it is. I mean, a cramp is basically your muscle contracting with all its ability. I get them occasionally (and in the arch of my foot, too) and I totally understand that feeling of an impending, alllllllmossssssst cramp. And like you, I once had one in my calf years ago that left me limping for a couple of days, and it felt exactly like a torn muscle, so that must be what happened to you.
In related news, my rant is that I had a back spasm in my extreme lower back (think: where tramp stamps go) and while I don’t have a tramp stamp there I do now have a Ben-Gay patch, which appears to so far be doing exactly diddly squat. I had to ask New Guy to buckle my shoes for me, and to escort me down the apt. steps because I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to make it or that I would fall.
Far more minor: I have a clogged pore (I’m in my mid-30s and I refuse to acknowledge them as zits anymore, I’m not a teenager, dammit! as evidenced by my apparent ability to hurt myself sleeping) directly underneath my nostril, and it’s sore as hell at all times but trying to squeeze it empty stings so badly it makes my eyes water.
Two weekends ago, I went shopping with my sister in law and my niece. My niece is 17, about 5’4" and weighs less than 100 pounds. She’s not sick or anorexic or anything. In fact, when she unintentionally lost weight this summer, her pediatrician ran just about ever blood test imaginable to try to find out what’s wrong with her. She was trying to find something “professional” to wear to give a presentation in one of her college classes. This is an issue for her. One of her favorite stores no longer carries the XS size, preferring to carry XXL instead. She’s too tall and too old for the girls’ department. Juniors clothing doesn’t lend itself to “office appropriate.” Luckily, she was able to find a top at Forever 21 to go with a skirt she already has. It was only “a little” to big. One of the dresses she tried on had two extra inches of fabric on each side of her waist.
The next day, I was relaying this story to my two oldest and dearest friends. (They are fat. Not chubby or curvy … FAT. One of them is 5’3" and 315 pounds. The other is 5’6" and cried when she broke 300 so lost a little, but not much.) I was simply recalling how I spent my evening and discussing how frustrating it was for her to find appropriate clothing at all due to her size and shape. They both sighed and huffed and essentially said “cry me a river” and “she just needs to eat a cheeseburger!” And I was PISSED. What fucking bullshit. They used to be small. They used to be skinny. But they eat crap food all day and sit on their asses and don’t work out. One of them (at least) is certainly clinically depressed but doesn’t do anything about it. It just really made me angry that they feel justified in trash talking someone who is “too skinny” but would hit the roof if someone told them to just put the cheeseburger down and slowly back away.
And I would like to bitch about people who brag about how they just stopped eating fries with lunch every day… or just stopped drinking eight Cokes a day… or just stopped having three fast food breakfast sandwiches every day… and lost weight. See! Losing weight is easy! All you fat slobs aren’t trying hard enough!
Fuck you people. Some of us subsist on small amounts of fresh, home-cooked food, walk miles every day, and still don’t lose weight. Just, fuck you people. Shut the fuck up.
Question all. My friend Moira knitted me an afghan when I gave birth. I sort of want to keep it but I sort of think I should give it to her daughter. What do you think? I know I would want something my late mom had knitted.
I loved that game!
:eek::mad:
