Thursday, October 26, 2006
It Really is a Physical Education
this is the time when it all matters. the next two weeks count for almost everything. and even though it can be redone in 6 months, the obvious goal is to succeed the first time around. mp has been busy as hell. there just isn't enough time in the day, and every morning seems like a reminder that time is more valuable than anything tangible.
yesterday, on the way to a study group, mp found herself with a couple of other students, looking at two broken elevators. she barely hesitated before heading to the stairwell and climbing the five flights up. there was no stopping for breath, and she didn't slow down. when she hit the 6th floor, she really wasn't even out of breath.
two years ago-- hell, six months ago-- she probably wouldn't have even tried it.
mp sat down in the conference room and began taking notes... and in the back of her mind, she realized that although she had never taken a p.e. class on campus, one of the biggest lessons she would be taking away from her graduate experiences was that of physical education. people do look at the very overweight as being slow, sloppy, dumb, and worthless. most don't see merely chubby people that way, but the very obese are truly discriminated against. with every extra pound, we are forced farther and farther from the center of life's discourse until we teeter on the edge and, in some cases, fall off into a land of invisibility.
mp realized that she was reentering the conversation. little by little, she has been finding her voice again. luckily, she isn't too out of breath to use it.
yesterday, on the way to a study group, mp found herself with a couple of other students, looking at two broken elevators. she barely hesitated before heading to the stairwell and climbing the five flights up. there was no stopping for breath, and she didn't slow down. when she hit the 6th floor, she really wasn't even out of breath.
two years ago-- hell, six months ago-- she probably wouldn't have even tried it.
mp sat down in the conference room and began taking notes... and in the back of her mind, she realized that although she had never taken a p.e. class on campus, one of the biggest lessons she would be taking away from her graduate experiences was that of physical education. people do look at the very overweight as being slow, sloppy, dumb, and worthless. most don't see merely chubby people that way, but the very obese are truly discriminated against. with every extra pound, we are forced farther and farther from the center of life's discourse until we teeter on the edge and, in some cases, fall off into a land of invisibility.
mp realized that she was reentering the conversation. little by little, she has been finding her voice again. luckily, she isn't too out of breath to use it.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Bouncing the Red Ball
i love mp, but good grief-- what a dork.
she got another date with the only person (as of the moment) she wanted a second date with.
everything went smoothly... at first.
when she went to pick up v, she was invited in, and saw that v had put careful attention into her appearance. good sign. she got the tour of the place. better sign. when they were deciding where to go to dinner, v let mp decide, and was elated at mp's choice. great! with everything going this smoothly, clearly it was just a matter of time before mp stepped in something brown and steamy.
dinner was relaxed but playful. after the meal, v went to the restroom, and mp paid the bill (she knew v would object, and she did...). when v came back, she trailed her hand across mp's shoulder on the way back to her seat. this should have been mp's signal that a little hand holding, a kiss, there were options there. walking back to the car on the waterfront would have been a good time. so, what did wonder skills do?
exactly. nothing.
if she'd had no interest in v, she would have perpetrated some ridiculous moves that (in all likelyhood) would have worked. confronted with someone really amazing, she practically dropped to the floor and faked a seizure. it was ugly. and, as was made obvious, it was not apprecited. mp did try to save face on the way home, but it's really up to v. one good point is that my person always "announces" her feelings. "i feel happy." "i feel sad." "i feel nervous." it's kind of cute, kind of sweet, and kind of annoying. mp's got the olsen twins of feelings.
the thing is.... like any other choke situation, it only happens when it matters.
and mp doesn't know if she's ready or even wants it to matter.
there's still a lot of personal work she wants to do; she is still reinventing herself.
but then she hears a voice or sees a face... and she can't stop smiling like a slow kid chasing a red ball in the middle of the street.
she got another date with the only person (as of the moment) she wanted a second date with.
everything went smoothly... at first.
when she went to pick up v, she was invited in, and saw that v had put careful attention into her appearance. good sign. she got the tour of the place. better sign. when they were deciding where to go to dinner, v let mp decide, and was elated at mp's choice. great! with everything going this smoothly, clearly it was just a matter of time before mp stepped in something brown and steamy.
dinner was relaxed but playful. after the meal, v went to the restroom, and mp paid the bill (she knew v would object, and she did...). when v came back, she trailed her hand across mp's shoulder on the way back to her seat. this should have been mp's signal that a little hand holding, a kiss, there were options there. walking back to the car on the waterfront would have been a good time. so, what did wonder skills do?
exactly. nothing.
if she'd had no interest in v, she would have perpetrated some ridiculous moves that (in all likelyhood) would have worked. confronted with someone really amazing, she practically dropped to the floor and faked a seizure. it was ugly. and, as was made obvious, it was not apprecited. mp did try to save face on the way home, but it's really up to v. one good point is that my person always "announces" her feelings. "i feel happy." "i feel sad." "i feel nervous." it's kind of cute, kind of sweet, and kind of annoying. mp's got the olsen twins of feelings.
the thing is.... like any other choke situation, it only happens when it matters.
and mp doesn't know if she's ready or even wants it to matter.
there's still a lot of personal work she wants to do; she is still reinventing herself.
but then she hears a voice or sees a face... and she can't stop smiling like a slow kid chasing a red ball in the middle of the street.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Struck Out Looking
there are days when you are sorry that you decided to wear cookie monster panties.
a date that was supposed to be casual and fun ends up being casual and really fun. kissing leads to touching; touching leads to spooning.... and just before spooning can lead to forking, you remember that you decided to wear cookie monster underwear when you left the house. then you have a problem, because it can go either way. she will either laugh and ask you to wear your bert and ernies for the next date, or she can back away and wonder if you have a bedroom decorated straight out of highlights magazine.
so, while you may really want to make the run from 3rd and slide across the plate (the beautifully waxed, slippery plate), it is often a prudent move to wait and see what the next at bat will bring. wear adult underwear. at least for the first time. then bust out with all the "cheeky monkey" 3D-eared chonies you want. there is no shame in waiting with a good lead off base.
other times, it's just better to strikeout looking.
just hold steady, and watch the date fly by. don't blink; don't move, lest it be misinterpreted. hold very still; play dead. she might nuzzle you a little to make sure you don't need to be eaten-- but as long as you don't flinch, she will probably walk away. scenarios where this is appropriate? anytime she shows up for a date wearing stretchy pants. combine stretchy pants with sneakers, and you are allowed to fake your own death.
another situation that warrants a purely defensive position? overt hypocracy and sloth. girls that have had a bypass and proceed to wolf down more food than an nfl linebacker are disturbing because of the complete lack of self-awareness. seriously, it's ok if you're fat. it's ok if you aren't. it's ok if you diet. it's ok if you don't. but it is never acceptable to have a bypass surgery without making an attempt at changing eating habits and then continuing to eat like a rock star. rock stars at least have the added benefit of meth. perhaps that combo would have been better than having your stomache stapled so that you could see if two pieces of birthday cake really would fit in the pouch... hold your swing; you've been matched against someone who plays in a different league.
a date that was supposed to be casual and fun ends up being casual and really fun. kissing leads to touching; touching leads to spooning.... and just before spooning can lead to forking, you remember that you decided to wear cookie monster underwear when you left the house. then you have a problem, because it can go either way. she will either laugh and ask you to wear your bert and ernies for the next date, or she can back away and wonder if you have a bedroom decorated straight out of highlights magazine.
so, while you may really want to make the run from 3rd and slide across the plate (the beautifully waxed, slippery plate), it is often a prudent move to wait and see what the next at bat will bring. wear adult underwear. at least for the first time. then bust out with all the "cheeky monkey" 3D-eared chonies you want. there is no shame in waiting with a good lead off base.
other times, it's just better to strikeout looking.
just hold steady, and watch the date fly by. don't blink; don't move, lest it be misinterpreted. hold very still; play dead. she might nuzzle you a little to make sure you don't need to be eaten-- but as long as you don't flinch, she will probably walk away. scenarios where this is appropriate? anytime she shows up for a date wearing stretchy pants. combine stretchy pants with sneakers, and you are allowed to fake your own death.
another situation that warrants a purely defensive position? overt hypocracy and sloth. girls that have had a bypass and proceed to wolf down more food than an nfl linebacker are disturbing because of the complete lack of self-awareness. seriously, it's ok if you're fat. it's ok if you aren't. it's ok if you diet. it's ok if you don't. but it is never acceptable to have a bypass surgery without making an attempt at changing eating habits and then continuing to eat like a rock star. rock stars at least have the added benefit of meth. perhaps that combo would have been better than having your stomache stapled so that you could see if two pieces of birthday cake really would fit in the pouch... hold your swing; you've been matched against someone who plays in a different league.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
And She Declared...
all of a sudden, i could just be myself-- the real me, not the me hiding a huge secret. and, it turns out the real me is a very confident (but very gentle) alpha femme. i lost sight of this under all of my blubber. hey, if it can hide your feet, it can hide your personality. i can see them both again.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Who Needs Piddle Pads?
last year, mp told me a story about a shopping trip she had taken with the ex.
they had gone to ontario mills to do a little shopping, and the ex was trying on clothes in the gap outlet while mp watched. yeah, my person is pervy like that. anyway, all of a sudden, the ex announces that she has to pee. mp told her to change and she'd have the fitting room girl hold the clothes for when they got back. the ex said that she doubted she would make it, and proceeded to piss all over the floor. yeah, that's right. she pissed all over the floor.
i haven't peed on the damn floor (without being locked inside for more than 14 hours) since i was a very young pup... yet there was the ex, standing in her own filth, looking at mp for answers. luckily, the floor was linoleum, and not carpet. mp, being sensitive and empathetic to a fault, went out into the larger fitting area, told the attendant that she had been clumsy and spilt a soda (must have been mt dew, huh?) and asked for a handful of towels. she then mopped up the ex's urine, rolled the towels up, and carried them out to the trash (concealed in a purse. when she came back, she kissed the ex's forehead, said, "everybody makes mistakes," and cleaned the floor again with a damp towel.
i would have rubbed that freakin' bitch's nose in it. i know that some of my people need piddle pads, but that is ridiculous. and it is far from the only time that mp cleaned up the ex's mess-- of the same and other varieties. too bad it takes so many people so long to realize that you shouldn't shit on the people who treat you well. if you do, you will eventually be left knee deep on your own mess.
mp is so close to the new life she has dreamed of for years. everything is right there. she can touch it, she can feel it, she just needs to hold on and bring it close. either way, i will love her, because i know that she loves me even when i make mistakes... and that is why i try not to make them.
we want to know that someone will eventually love us enough to protect our dignity and feelings no matter what the risk to their own. we want to know that someone will love us enough not to crap on things indiscriminately. that's where the real balance of happiness lies... knowing you can, but caring enough that you don't.
they had gone to ontario mills to do a little shopping, and the ex was trying on clothes in the gap outlet while mp watched. yeah, my person is pervy like that. anyway, all of a sudden, the ex announces that she has to pee. mp told her to change and she'd have the fitting room girl hold the clothes for when they got back. the ex said that she doubted she would make it, and proceeded to piss all over the floor. yeah, that's right. she pissed all over the floor.
i haven't peed on the damn floor (without being locked inside for more than 14 hours) since i was a very young pup... yet there was the ex, standing in her own filth, looking at mp for answers. luckily, the floor was linoleum, and not carpet. mp, being sensitive and empathetic to a fault, went out into the larger fitting area, told the attendant that she had been clumsy and spilt a soda (must have been mt dew, huh?) and asked for a handful of towels. she then mopped up the ex's urine, rolled the towels up, and carried them out to the trash (concealed in a purse. when she came back, she kissed the ex's forehead, said, "everybody makes mistakes," and cleaned the floor again with a damp towel.
i would have rubbed that freakin' bitch's nose in it. i know that some of my people need piddle pads, but that is ridiculous. and it is far from the only time that mp cleaned up the ex's mess-- of the same and other varieties. too bad it takes so many people so long to realize that you shouldn't shit on the people who treat you well. if you do, you will eventually be left knee deep on your own mess.
mp is so close to the new life she has dreamed of for years. everything is right there. she can touch it, she can feel it, she just needs to hold on and bring it close. either way, i will love her, because i know that she loves me even when i make mistakes... and that is why i try not to make them.
we want to know that someone will eventually love us enough to protect our dignity and feelings no matter what the risk to their own. we want to know that someone will love us enough not to crap on things indiscriminately. that's where the real balance of happiness lies... knowing you can, but caring enough that you don't.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Bundled and Muddled
m.p. inherited a wool, 3/4 length, london fog coat from the ex last year.
it's a size large, and i remember thinking how tiny she was getting when we bought it. it's double breasted, so there is a lot of extra fabric in the front if you leave it open. last year, she gave it to m.p. and told her to wear it open (it still wouldn't close in front).
m.p. tried it on today.
the damn things fits, buttons, and looks good.
a large coat fits.
i seriously remember how proud we were of the ex when she bought it. we just thought she looked amazing.
m.p. can't see herself as being that same size. but the same coat fits. we stood there in front of a mirror, and stared at this buttoned up coat...
and m.p. couldn't recognize herself anymore.
it's a size large, and i remember thinking how tiny she was getting when we bought it. it's double breasted, so there is a lot of extra fabric in the front if you leave it open. last year, she gave it to m.p. and told her to wear it open (it still wouldn't close in front).
m.p. tried it on today.
the damn things fits, buttons, and looks good.
a large coat fits.
i seriously remember how proud we were of the ex when she bought it. we just thought she looked amazing.
m.p. can't see herself as being that same size. but the same coat fits. we stood there in front of a mirror, and stared at this buttoned up coat...
and m.p. couldn't recognize herself anymore.
Monday, October 16, 2006
TV: The Other, Other Form of Sex
as i have blurted out before, network tv is a good substitute for sex.
actually, all tv is, it turns out.
grey's anatomy is better than i ever thought it would be. they do need to add a mclesbo, though. it's only fair.
how i met your mother is probably the best show on tv. period. it's smart, it's funny, it's timely. it's everything i want in a partner. when i hump the screen, it doesn't tell me it hates the way it looks in this light.
dexter is good. of course, any time i see michael hall and a bald black man on the same screen i expect sodomy. i demand it, damnit! it's the way things should be.
lost. everyone loves it. i just love the fact that abc puts all of their primetime shows online so that jackasses that can't always remember to tivo can catch up. i'd look sheepish, but i have no thumbs, so i think i deserve a freakin' break. i also have to fight m.p. for the remote on hockey night, and that bitch plays dirty.
so, m.p. is getting out, geting love, getting life. but tv is the mental porn that keeps her from crossing that line. we snuggle and chill together and she uses the mental break to decide where she wants to go next. it keeps her from crossing that line out of need, loneliness, boredom.... yeah, that line. the ugly line-- inside or out. one date has said that network tv will not stay a substitute for sex much longer. interestingly enough, this came from the one person m.p. can see passing the remote to. maybe that's a good sign.
actually, all tv is, it turns out.
grey's anatomy is better than i ever thought it would be. they do need to add a mclesbo, though. it's only fair.
how i met your mother is probably the best show on tv. period. it's smart, it's funny, it's timely. it's everything i want in a partner. when i hump the screen, it doesn't tell me it hates the way it looks in this light.
dexter is good. of course, any time i see michael hall and a bald black man on the same screen i expect sodomy. i demand it, damnit! it's the way things should be.
lost. everyone loves it. i just love the fact that abc puts all of their primetime shows online so that jackasses that can't always remember to tivo can catch up. i'd look sheepish, but i have no thumbs, so i think i deserve a freakin' break. i also have to fight m.p. for the remote on hockey night, and that bitch plays dirty.
so, m.p. is getting out, geting love, getting life. but tv is the mental porn that keeps her from crossing that line. we snuggle and chill together and she uses the mental break to decide where she wants to go next. it keeps her from crossing that line out of need, loneliness, boredom.... yeah, that line. the ugly line-- inside or out. one date has said that network tv will not stay a substitute for sex much longer. interestingly enough, this came from the one person m.p. can see passing the remote to. maybe that's a good sign.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Still Moving, Still Living
m.p. was plateaued for a long while.
it was hard on her, but even though the scale didn't move, her clothes got looser.
she calorie cycled; she workout out hard; she eased up.
she went out and had fun; she styed in and brooded.
she ultimately lowered her carbs, raised her fat intake, and dropped some weight.
she realized that no matter how slow or fast it came,
the journey was the right one.
and she has always been moving in the right direction.
it was hard on her, but even though the scale didn't move, her clothes got looser.
she calorie cycled; she workout out hard; she eased up.
she went out and had fun; she styed in and brooded.
she ultimately lowered her carbs, raised her fat intake, and dropped some weight.
she realized that no matter how slow or fast it came,
the journey was the right one.
and she has always been moving in the right direction.
The Kandinsky Dance
i like the hot mess.
i love the passionate, unstable, undefined, colorful, early, bleeding, loud, thick, gutteral, chaotic, enmeshed, contrasting, real, familiar, wet, stained, confusion.
i love the unconfined and irrational beauty like i love early kandinsky. i love the uncertain passionate moments that i know will lead to recognition if i look hard enough.... and i love the option to not look. the warm glow i feel looking at the hot mess still draws me in more than clear lines and definite shapes. the future will always bring change, and (in most cases) clarity.... but i will always feel the draw of the hot mess.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
What is Real?
i love ugly betty.
i do.
it's not just because m.p. thinks america ferrera is hotter than the sun.
it's not because it's lite and fluffy.
it's just...
"Real women snort when they laugh; they've got fat asses, wobbly upper arms, and get pms."
that's why i love ugly betty.
it's real.
...and sometimes it's hard to know what's real when everything around you is changing.
m.p. went on a sorta date last night.
well, she wasn't sure how to define it, and her companion for the evening declared that it was a date. m.p. still wasn't sure, or (since we are still talking about the committmentphobe) wasn't ready to acknowledge it. hours later, as she drove v home, she realized that it had been one of the best dates she had been on in many years. and she doesn't know why.
there was a meeting for coffee that somehow exceeded two hours in a blink. that segued into dinner, which lasted close to another two hours. m.p. would have sworn it had only been 20 minutes. her nervous-talking-thing (which she freely owns) was appreciated for the good natured banter that it is, and v made her feel as comfortable as if she had known m.p. for years. all of this came crashing down as m.p. dropped her companion off with hug.
as she drove away, she realized that she actually wants to see v again.
how scary is that?
the casual meeting somehow stretched into an evening. and the evening somehow flipped into desire. real desire. not "well, i want someone to hang out with" need. not "oh, she's ok, but there's better" want. not "hmmm, she's ok" interest. m.p. drove away wanting her. thinking about her. desiring her.
that has not happened more than 3 or 4 times in her life.
will they go out again? who knows. v spoke about future dates; they did the good night/thanks for the evening text after the date ended. but these things change with distance, time, and life. what is certain was that last night was real. all of my person was exposed, and the interest was still mutual. as the night flowed, m.p. realized that the insecurities she felt from the past needed to stay there, because others had no idea of what she felt insecure about. they don't see the 400# oaf that m.p. still feels like. they don't see a fat wall. according to the last couple of dates, they see charm, wit, and a great smile.
m.p. realized that she no longer stood out unless she caused herself to...
and she is no longer invisible.
and (scariest of all) she realized that she is still capable of feeling something real.
i do.
it's not just because m.p. thinks america ferrera is hotter than the sun.
it's not because it's lite and fluffy.
it's just...
"Real women snort when they laugh; they've got fat asses, wobbly upper arms, and get pms."
that's why i love ugly betty.
it's real.
...and sometimes it's hard to know what's real when everything around you is changing.
m.p. went on a sorta date last night.
well, she wasn't sure how to define it, and her companion for the evening declared that it was a date. m.p. still wasn't sure, or (since we are still talking about the committmentphobe) wasn't ready to acknowledge it. hours later, as she drove v home, she realized that it had been one of the best dates she had been on in many years. and she doesn't know why.
there was a meeting for coffee that somehow exceeded two hours in a blink. that segued into dinner, which lasted close to another two hours. m.p. would have sworn it had only been 20 minutes. her nervous-talking-thing (which she freely owns) was appreciated for the good natured banter that it is, and v made her feel as comfortable as if she had known m.p. for years. all of this came crashing down as m.p. dropped her companion off with hug.
as she drove away, she realized that she actually wants to see v again.
how scary is that?
the casual meeting somehow stretched into an evening. and the evening somehow flipped into desire. real desire. not "well, i want someone to hang out with" need. not "oh, she's ok, but there's better" want. not "hmmm, she's ok" interest. m.p. drove away wanting her. thinking about her. desiring her.
that has not happened more than 3 or 4 times in her life.
will they go out again? who knows. v spoke about future dates; they did the good night/thanks for the evening text after the date ended. but these things change with distance, time, and life. what is certain was that last night was real. all of my person was exposed, and the interest was still mutual. as the night flowed, m.p. realized that the insecurities she felt from the past needed to stay there, because others had no idea of what she felt insecure about. they don't see the 400# oaf that m.p. still feels like. they don't see a fat wall. according to the last couple of dates, they see charm, wit, and a great smile.
m.p. realized that she no longer stood out unless she caused herself to...
and she is no longer invisible.
and (scariest of all) she realized that she is still capable of feeling something real.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Showdown in the Petsmart
a muzzle, some rope, 3 girls, and some clippers.
m.p. on another first date?
nope. it was time for the petsmart showdown.
every couple of months, i need a little grooming help. i can do most of it myself, but like a fat girl in a girdle, sometimes i need an extra hand. nails are the first thing strangers notice about a girl. when i run up and throw my feet in the air, my toe-tingers are all splayed out there for people to see. so, i have to make sure they are always neat and clean, and this requires a little puppy-pedi action every so often. really, hygiene is important, and i don't mind the brushing or baths (as long as they come in a bag), but nobody messes with my toes. we had a discussion at home about this, and after the stitches were put in, my person agreed that puppy-pedis were a luxury she could afford.
so, earlier, we rolled down to the long beach location (despite the fact that there are several 10 miles closer to the house), because my person is fucking horny and can't seem to acclimate to a lesbian-free environment. i walked in, and announced my presence with a howl and growl session. since we've been going there for 4 years, they already had assistants coming over to help with my spa treatment. yeah, two girls holding me while one does the work, 'cause i'm sexy like that. one of them was extra fine, so i wagged my tail and smiled at her. when she smiled back and went to pet me, i bit her. hey, i'm not that easy.
5 minutes later, i was bundled up like lillybelle lector. muzzled, tethered, pinned, and pet.
with every clack of the clippers, i reminded them that the muzzle would have to come off sometime-- and then we'd see who was in charge. what was my person doing during this time? oh, playing with the hair of the chubby employee who couldn't stop gushing about how good she looked and how much smaller she is. yeah, that's right. i was being mauled, and she was trying to hook up. typical. this is exactly why i usually leave her ass at home.
after my pedi, we went down the isles, and she let me pick out a treat. i chose some greenies. i like them-- and they're the most expensive, so i ripped the biggest bag they had right off the shelf. greenies everywhere and other dogs going in for the swipe. person scurrying to get them up. hot girl laughing at my person's predicament. one proud puppy chewing calmly on her prize. just for good measure, i threw up a little when the girl invited us to walk over to in-n-out for her lunch break. sure, i love a good double-double, plain and dry-- but m.p. is on a diet and abstaining for a while. i'm just looking out.
after all, i didn't want her to be tempted to put something... fatty... in her mouth.
m.p. on another first date?
nope. it was time for the petsmart showdown.
every couple of months, i need a little grooming help. i can do most of it myself, but like a fat girl in a girdle, sometimes i need an extra hand. nails are the first thing strangers notice about a girl. when i run up and throw my feet in the air, my toe-tingers are all splayed out there for people to see. so, i have to make sure they are always neat and clean, and this requires a little puppy-pedi action every so often. really, hygiene is important, and i don't mind the brushing or baths (as long as they come in a bag), but nobody messes with my toes. we had a discussion at home about this, and after the stitches were put in, my person agreed that puppy-pedis were a luxury she could afford.
so, earlier, we rolled down to the long beach location (despite the fact that there are several 10 miles closer to the house), because my person is fucking horny and can't seem to acclimate to a lesbian-free environment. i walked in, and announced my presence with a howl and growl session. since we've been going there for 4 years, they already had assistants coming over to help with my spa treatment. yeah, two girls holding me while one does the work, 'cause i'm sexy like that. one of them was extra fine, so i wagged my tail and smiled at her. when she smiled back and went to pet me, i bit her. hey, i'm not that easy.
5 minutes later, i was bundled up like lillybelle lector. muzzled, tethered, pinned, and pet.
with every clack of the clippers, i reminded them that the muzzle would have to come off sometime-- and then we'd see who was in charge. what was my person doing during this time? oh, playing with the hair of the chubby employee who couldn't stop gushing about how good she looked and how much smaller she is. yeah, that's right. i was being mauled, and she was trying to hook up. typical. this is exactly why i usually leave her ass at home.
after my pedi, we went down the isles, and she let me pick out a treat. i chose some greenies. i like them-- and they're the most expensive, so i ripped the biggest bag they had right off the shelf. greenies everywhere and other dogs going in for the swipe. person scurrying to get them up. hot girl laughing at my person's predicament. one proud puppy chewing calmly on her prize. just for good measure, i threw up a little when the girl invited us to walk over to in-n-out for her lunch break. sure, i love a good double-double, plain and dry-- but m.p. is on a diet and abstaining for a while. i'm just looking out.
after all, i didn't want her to be tempted to put something... fatty... in her mouth.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Soulmates
i'm my person's soulmate.
yeah, she didn't buy it t first, either...
but, she had lovers and long relationships; hell, she's only been single for 11 of the last 168 months.
she's had friends, best friends, bar friends, and naked friends.
she's had experiences, and jobs, and dreams....
and the only thing she is sure of, the only thing she knows she will never leave behind, is me.
i don't think i could enjoy my kibble, chase squirrels, or bark at delivery trucks without her.
we are each other's bestest friends. shiny objects may distract us, but they will never tear us apart.
even the crazy, dog hating girl with the amazing rack got the boot--
and she was rich, easy, and came with free airfare.
that is love.
now, if i can just get her to stop frenching me.
jesus, i've seen some of the places her mouth has been;
i have to lick my ass right after to feel clean again.
Off to a Good Start
the ducks are 2-0. i think that's a first. i'd look it up, but i've always been a lazy puppy. either way, they are playing solid, smart, physical hockey, and this season is looking like it will be fun to watch. my person will probably leave me alone so that she can catch a few at the honda center, but that just gives me time to stretch out, drink beer, and growl at the tv in peace. i do miss our goal celebrations, though. when my leg heals, we can get back into the routine. it involves a little jumping, a little dancing, a bit of howling.... i'll upload some video if she lets me.
my person's winter is also off to a good start. everything is falling into place. everything is coming along like it was meant to be. she wants to drop another 40# before snowboarding lessons, and i believe she will do it. i think she's pretty determined, because i heard her mumbling to herself about a home liposuction kit. it's time to go through the clothes pile again, even though the numbers on the scale haven't moved a lot. i still don't get that. the pudge has to have gone somewhere. it's a mystery, and (as soon as i'm done chasing my tail) i'll get right on it.
my person's winter is also off to a good start. everything is falling into place. everything is coming along like it was meant to be. she wants to drop another 40# before snowboarding lessons, and i believe she will do it. i think she's pretty determined, because i heard her mumbling to herself about a home liposuction kit. it's time to go through the clothes pile again, even though the numbers on the scale haven't moved a lot. i still don't get that. the pudge has to have gone somewhere. it's a mystery, and (as soon as i'm done chasing my tail) i'll get right on it.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Monday, October 02, 2006
Day 135
today, my person turned 31.
today, my person hit 240.
today, my person moved out of the morbidly obese category.
she has worked hard for the last 135 days, and she has lost 60#.
that comes out to .444 pounds a day.
she works out 3-4x a week.
she smiles a lot more.
she understands that her value should have never been in question.
she went to ny&co and bought off the rack.
she went to dinner and didn't feel like people were wondering why the fat girl needed to eat.
she wore a jacket that she bought a size too small 3 weeks ago, and it fit beautifully.
she threw out old reminders that were given as an emotional bribe because she realized that,
for the last few years, she allowed herself to be given scraps as payment for the security her presence gave.
it's time for a little freestyle.
today, my person hit 240.
today, my person moved out of the morbidly obese category.
she has worked hard for the last 135 days, and she has lost 60#.
that comes out to .444 pounds a day.
she works out 3-4x a week.
she smiles a lot more.
she understands that her value should have never been in question.
she went to ny&co and bought off the rack.
she went to dinner and didn't feel like people were wondering why the fat girl needed to eat.
she wore a jacket that she bought a size too small 3 weeks ago, and it fit beautifully.
she threw out old reminders that were given as an emotional bribe because she realized that,
for the last few years, she allowed herself to be given scraps as payment for the security her presence gave.
it's time for a little freestyle.
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