Yeah, Baby

why am i smiling?



jiggy's back in net.


pronger and frenchy are on the blueline.





the stars got spanked.


all is right with the world.

WTF

did he seriously say, "will you call me tomorrow?"

Beauty

"I feel like I've been in a coma for the past twenty years. And I'm just now waking up."

"I have lost something. I'm not exactly sure what it is but I know I didn't always feel this... sedated. But you know what? It's never too late to get it back."

"It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself."

"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday."

-American Beauty

Mira Ya Viene El Sol

ya, ya, ya viene el sol.
florece se abre
como una bella flor.

calienta mi alma,
y borra mi dolor,
con tu luz traes la vida,
con tu calor das amor.

Pup with the Most Toys

8 Months...

92 more pounds...
and a million smiles later.


"I know this obsession with thinness is
unhealthy and anti-feminist, but that's what a fat girl would say!"
--Lisa Simpson


400/300/208/160

The Stars Shine For You...

but it's just a song.
and i cannot.

View My Naked Shame

mp wasn't pleased about me sharing her showeroake song.
she sent nude pictures of me in the bath to roll-it-rover magazine.
i can't believe she sent them to such a smutty rag. puppies use that to paper train, damnit! she could have at least sent them to something classy like playdog or rolling bone. if people are gonna see me without my collar, they are going to see it here first- in arty, tasteful shots.

My Feelers Are Down

mp said no more pulp fiction for me until i learn to watch my potty mouth.

Why...

is my writing so disjointed lately?
since a couple of you have asked, i thought i'd answer here.

i don't have opposable thumbs, you fuckers!
why you gotta make a d.o.g. feel bad?
eh, i'm also pretty busy keeping mp in line, but i'm sure things will be back to "normal" soon. in the meantime, grab a fat tire and watch some hockey-- it'll make you feel better.

oh, yeah. the latina barrista mp picked up on before she and tits mcgee went to see pan's labyrinth finally called. not true. she finally left a message; in actuality, she called about 6 times and hung up. i doubt mp takes her out, since she has already violated the two call rule (you can call and hang up with no message once; after that, either talk or stop fucking dialing). i, however, may take her to costco for a hotdog and hump her leg.

what? homegirl was fine, with a capital dd.

He'd Take A Chamber Pot For Her....

a funny thing happened on the way to the honda center. for whatever reason, the topic of why men walk closer to the street than the women they escort came up. apparently, it had something to do with the emptying of chamber pots from windows. s.a.c.w.g. declared he'd take a chamber pot for mp. mp declared that was a one-way deal. he was okay wih it, much like he was ok with it 2 hours later when mp blurted out, "wow! that girl has really big boobs."

in all fairness to my tourette's girl, they did kinda get places way before the rest of her did. i'm just saying.

it was actually a good night. it was fun, relaxed, and uncomplicated.... and we all know how mp is about keeping things uncomplicated. it reminded us, again, that mp deserved a hell of a lot better than what she settled for. it also reminded her that she no longer has to get up in the middle of the cold night to wring out someone's hair and hanging it up to dry... and that people who take stuff like that for granted are at the bottom of the narcissistic barrel. there's a story about this that will be shared later....

a quick note to all of you fly-by mfers that left the game early last night:
at playoff time, you will be the first weasels in line, trying to snatch up tickets because you are "die hard fans."
few things are more annoying than watching people chase the band wagon.
next time they stink it up, sit your fucking asses down and cheer.
our house; our team. good- bad- winning- losing- injured- healthy- tired- energized--
our house; our team.

Motherfucking Bunnies

Fantastic Bunny Theater

really, some bunny moments are better than the original.

i particularly support t.c.m., r.h.p.s., and titanic as tributes to shit it's hard to sit through... and hard to move away from. only, bunnyized, they rock. others, like pulp fiction and the big chill are brilliant.

hey, those are some charming motherfucking bunnies.

Tell Me a Story

i always used to ask mp and ike turner to tell me the story of how i was born, how we became a family. the story made me happy because i realized that no matter what, mp would be there for me. even when it's 40 degrees outside and i drank too much water before bed. i won't tell that story here, because it's a private one. but, at night, i ask mp to tell it to me often.

there are lots of stories still being written. i think that's what's weirdest about the last year. the stories are all different; my life is a choose your own adventure these days. i love it.

i can tell lots of stories that i wouldn't have a year ago. i can tell about pimptress' most wonderful pussy and her yapping chica; the red ball; hetero, needy boys; the trifecta of bar games ass-kicking mp received; fat tire beer; picking up baristas; dropping off housewives; the finn; hockey games with the uninitiated; sammy; trails, stairs, and the cowering paths; singing in the car; walking the canals by christmas light; shaking my tail on 2nd st, picking up the ladies (and their leftovers); gourmet biscuit runs to petco that started with bang and ended with a swede; tossing out the old; shopping for the new; popo action on the first date... followed by popo sister action on the second; the latina drew barrymore (hot and crazy, just like mp likes it); new year's eve (don't drink and text, people); moseying; the list is endless.

currently, the g-ma is trying to talk mp out of jumping from a perfectly good airplane. but, i say go for it; mp is one pf the few people i know can fly. if we can find a puppy-harness and doggy-goggles, i'm in. and we'll have new stories about how mp and i stayed a family.

Lynchings, Frost Bite, Blue Balls, and Clubs

yeah. that's what happens when pimptress and mp go for friday night play time.

i shouldn't complain, though. it's better than saturday night's fat tire-induced karaoke-under-the-covers session.

Oxytocin

feed your head

That Dirty, Dirty Girl

i caught mp the other day.
you would never believe what filth she was looking at....
i am so terribly ashamed.

if you don't believe me, see the disgusting pornography for yourself.

Ruh-Roh

Iwao Takamoto
1925-2007

The Bestest Pussy Ever

The Red Ball

bounced back into mp's life.
mp, of course, is back chasing it like an idiot. an idiot savant, but an idiot nonetheless.
the irony is, of course, that if the red ball decided it wanted to play a real game, there would be an mp-shaped hole through the nearest door.

mp has been warned by everyone to be careful.
but... well, it's the sexiest red ball that has ever bounced her way.

It's Almost Over

i guess the holidays are fun for a while. i got to walk around and look at lights, play with friends, and shop for mp... but i prefer warm days in the sun and trips to the beach. this christmas and new year were a lot less stressful, though. it's amazing how much more fun life is when it's not all about somebody else!

besides, i got my 3lbs of gourmet cookies, new collar, and new car harness. i scored!

I'm Not A Morning Puppy

in fact, i'm a crack o' noon kinda girl.

I'm A Chick Magnet

oh, yeah. the ladies love me....

i took mp for an adventure today. we went on campus to return books, paperwork, and timesheets. i like elevators quite a bit, but freshly polished floors are my favorite! afterwards, we went to 2nd st and walked the whole circuit. she was very proud of me since i didn't jump on people, try to get at the food people were eating on the restaurant patios, or bark at other puupies. we went into whiskers, the body shop, and the gap; i liked the banana shower gel, but mp said we did enough damage at bed & bath yesterday. (that is one hell of a sale!)

people love me-- especially women. and a couple of guys... but let's get back to the curvy, good-smelling people. mp found out you don't need match when you've got a haute dog at your side. as a reward, she got me a great new collar & we raided the gourmet cookie bar at petco. while we were there, a scandanavian woman fondled me; if mp gets around to calling her, she can return the favor.

The Hetero Date

m.p. went on a hetero date last night. yeah, i couldn't believe it, either. i'll pause for your reactions... and... stop. okay, then. here's what happened:

so, the boy in question is an interesting mix. in a rare turn, when "artist" does not mean "unemployed," he is a photographer/constructon worker. carpenter's union card in one hand, bfa in the other. it works. it works particularly well for mp, because she tends to like people who are really good at something. it doesn't matter what it is, as long as they are passionate about it. he's very comfortable with himself, in every way, and mp (swear on my kong) has actually spoken to him on the phone for extended lengths of time without wanting to chew her arm off. no, really-- it's true!

they went to very cool little tapas bar, and he wasn't terribly offended when mp said, "wow our waitress is really cute." although... he did ask later if he would have to wonder if mp would be checking out women whenever they went out. mp promptly told him that she would be, and he laughed and said, "well, now i don't have to wonder." always a good sign.

he waited a whopping 7 hours after they said good bye to ask mp out again.

then again, this was his view for the evening:

eh, don't be too impressed, the top had a lot more room once the bra came off.

A New Technique

i've convinced mp to try a new way of picking up girls.
tomorrow, she's gonnaa take a bucket of kfc and hang out in front of lane giant, uh, bryant.

i'll let you know how it goes.

Pimptress Wants to Know...

what sammy looks like.


she also wants to let me watch--
she just doesn't know it yet.
don't worry, baby, i'm far less pervy than mp.

"And in the end, the love you take Is equal to the love you make." - Paul McCartney

Whaaaa

it's not often that hockey makes me laugh out loud,
but in the ducks game against the lightning, dustin penner (#17)
made me laugh so hard my wiskers got spit on them.

marc denis lost his stick in the second period, and penner scored on him.
denis went and cried like a little bitch to the officials...
and, from the bench, penner yelled out, "Whaaaa."

seriously, if i can get mp to find it on youtube, i'll try to post it--
you have to see it to really get it. penner's road to the nhl
is actually really interesting. google him.

So Close... and So Unmotivated

A High Puppy is a Nice Puppy

sleeping all the time and ignoring duties? tongue hanging out like a shirt tag?


glassy eyes? inability to concentrate?


does your puppy have a drug problem?

i went back for my last check up on friday. they needed some x-rays of my leg to make sure everything was healed, so i got a little doggy sedation. oh, yes. i wanna be sedated. the x-rays looked good, my leg is healed (even though i still use three most of the time), but-- even better-- i was a lit puppy all afternoon.

my surgeon was dr. peter sebestyen from veterinary surgical specialists in tustin. if you tear, break, or thrash something that needs surgery i highly recommend them. i only bit a couple of people. well, okay, one person (twice), ut they were understanding about my high-maintenance disposition. you don't get this beautiful and then just let anyone touch you, you know! mp was happy because someone was with me 24hrs while i was there, and someone was available anytime by phone if she needed to check up on me at, oh 3am. yeah, she's like that.

the prices were about the same as the other places we called, but that isn't really a huge factor, because mp was not gonna be a cheap bastard when i comes to my health. of course, she's too broke to date much now, so she better meet some people who are used to paper napkins in their fine dining experiences. i'm worth it.

if you want to check out veterinary surgical specialists, go to: www.vssoc.com/index-2.html

there's also pictures of the pretty surgeons and stuff.

speaking of pretty! i have copies of my x-rays that i'll post sometime soon. i'm way too hot to keep those babies quiet.

ugh. speaking of babies. it looks like i'll be getting a little brother next week. he better step in line pretty quick and learn the rules: my house, my person, my rules. we'll see how quickly i train him.

What We Were Thankful For

of course, the last few games have seen multiple women exposed to the joys of hockey--
but that doesn't change m.p.'s hetero-crush on sammy.

The Return of Stretchy Pants

m.p. has been called fickle by the best of them. she is still chasing the red ball, but the pursuit is getting old. i think they'll have come to some sort of decision by the end of next month. but look at my past predictions and make your own decision about how much you want to wager on that.

so, there will a be a (how ever brief) return of stretchy pants. the fact that she knows about the stretchy pants reference and keep good humor about it is reason enough. there are, however, plenty of other qualities that make her one of the few to be recalled from the minors. the fact that she is very pretty helps.

she's still no red ball. that particular object of desire will be out of the country for a couple of weeks.... and then m.p. can start chasing again. game on.

a side note:
right now, flix is playing DIVA, an 80's movie that is one of the most underrated ever made. it is the sammy of movies. if you can spare the time, i highly recommend seeing it. there are some great 80's moments included with the price of your netflix.

Divorce Works on Her

We Love You Sammy

samuel pahlsson is the most underrated player in hockey.

the guy dominates in faceoffs, is defensively sound, and can throw the shoulder like nobody else.

deals like the pahlsson trade help make up for picking up porn stars.

Today

today marks six months on mf.
mp is currently 227, which is 73# less than what she started with.
more importantly, it's 173# less than what she weighed at her largest.

mp cannot deny that she feels the loss should be more rapid. it feels weird to have something she is so intimately linked to (her body) fight her at every turn. clearly, mp's ass feels the need to hold on to every ounce of lard it can. i have spoken, ad nauseum, to her thighs; one day, they might listen.

in the mean time, we just keep hoping for the best-- and not eating the worst.

inside, mp still feels like she weighs 400#. i don't know how, if that will change. it kills me sometimes. the body issues, are (of course) compounded by the new enemy: sagging skin. she has it. her thighs look like they are melting. her stomache is getting weird lumps in the middle where the residual fat is gathered. it is depressing and humiliating.... but, it is ours. we purchased this body through years of neglect. it is my hope that constant rennovation will leave this structure inhabitable once more.

We Needed the NHL Pornstar, Why?

the ducks, up until recently, have been fantastic this season. but, to be honest, we love them even when they suck... and, in past seasons, boy have they sucked. sometimes, though, it's the moves made off the ice that make us cringe more than the ones the on ice.

remember that stupendous trade anaheim made with san jose in 2001? teemu selanne for jef friesen and steve shields. yeah, they gave up teemu for steve fucking shields. it was truly a moment of brilliance.

trading away todd fedoruk (injured or not) and wiggling around to get george parros is a bit like dropping johnny depp and replacing him with ron jeremy. yeah, i'm sure the product will be just as good. seriously. the fact that fedoruk could fight, AND skate, AND even find the back of the net once in a while should not detract anything thing from parros. after all, the guy moves with the agility of a hippo and scores as often as screech did on saved by the bell.

oh, yeah, he can fight.

don't get us wrong, fighting serves an important function in hockey, but the days of the goon are over. players are rennaissance men. they can do more than use their faces to block the fists of others.... look at shawn thornton's admirable performance while he was called up. thornton has game. parros has a mustache that calls for tube socks, gold chains, and "bow-chika-bow-bow" music in the background.

Let's Pretend We're in Jr High

mp has put out a survey for those (subjectively) lucky enough to have gone out with her. the results have been fascinating. really. i was so busy laughing at the way women called mp on her bullshit that i must have gone 4 hours without a single lick at my ass. don't worry, i made up for lost time....

so, anyway. mp continues to chase the red ball. it is very colorful and bouncy, but i'm pretty sure she's nering her limit. the irony, of course, is that the ball is the most amazing toy mp has ever come across-- even though she hasnt gotten to play with it yet.

they did a mini golf date last night. that's right! straight from the archives of junior high come-on rountines: putt putt.

it was actually fun and kind of sweet.... and (just like in junior high) nothing else happened. well, the ball was fun to watch as she lined up her shots, but that was thanks to a low cut shirt and... being well inflated. that is one tight, red ball.

i'm just saying.

the problem with mp is that she has been scarred so badly she is afraid of reopening them with someone else. it makes sense, really. i mean, if you eat the peking duk one night and spend the next three days peking in the toilet, you don't hurry back for more. this explains the multiple survey respondants (some of which i will post here at a later time).

but this red ball.... when it bounces in the street, mp just has to chase it.

after mini golf, mp introduced her to the art of a good mosey-- complete with an explaination about what differentiates a mosey from a stroll, a jaunt, and even a saunter. the red ball was a fantastic sport-- particularly when they decided that "i let you pay for miniature golf, so show me your room" had the potential to be a good line. unfortunately, mp just can't find the nerve to invite the ball to play a game. and the ball keeps bouncing. since this is part of her appeal, it creates a terrible sense of ambivalence in our reluctant, horny hero.

but, my god, it's fun to watch.

and, seriously, "i let you pay for golf, so you should show me your room" really is a great line.

Victoria's Secret...

is that when you take the bra off, your boobs go with it.

Saved by the Borat

mp got out and laughed harder than she has in a really long time.
for a while, all the crap that has happened to her over the last several months was pushed aside.
of course, there was more sweaty, hairy, ass crack that any one person should have to endure,
but the company at her side was there to keep her eyes averted.

sasha baron cohen is a freaking genius.

400/300/229.5

The Thin Line Between Love and Weight

mp made an important decision yesterday.
she's had a secret for seven months. seven months as of today.
every time she feels happy, the memory of this secret pops into her head and poisons her from the inside out.
the secret has taken over her dreams.
the secret has shredded her heart.
the secret is coming out.

people who want to hurt others can do so in a number of ways.
they can treat you badly. they can manipulate you. they can hit you.
and sometimes it doesn't end there.

for 2 years, mp was humiliated by how much damage she allowed the ex to do to her.
she was even more humiliated by the fact that, when the ex decided to play martyr, mp stayed mute because of some ridiculous loyalty/love bullshit.
seven months ago today, the ex did the worst thing she could think of to mp, and my person just dropped her head a little bit more and took it. she felt rage, and hurt, and frustration, and disbelief... but she took it.

yesterday, as mp drove home from class, she couldn't get the sounds and smells and sights of that afternoon out of her head.
she found herself crying and repeating "you broke me" to thin air. why?
because she had swallowed the blame and guilt rather than speak when she could be heard.

the ex taunted mp with what she had done to her. repeatedly.
the whole situation was so surreal that my person didn't know what to do.
and then, 3 weeks ago, she was assigned to help someone doing their thesis on this very topic. and as she looked over the statistics, she realized that she was not alone. she was not alone in being victimized; she was not alone in her silence.

she was not alone in the overwhelming pain and constant suffering at the memories.
when mp broke down crying yesterday, she realized that she could speak. and even though it is emabarrassing, even though it is humiliating, it is the right thing to do.

someone asked if my person's choice of cookie monster panties was some sort of weird chastity belt.
the true answer is that it is. for the last 7 months, mp has been completely celibate. she isn't even down with herself.
she can't imagine putting herself in that position again-- the thought of it makes her feel physically ill. the feeling of someone else touching her hair makes her want to cry.

mp stayed silent because she had all of these conflicting feeling. she still felt love for the person she remembered from a long time ago. she couldn't wrap her head around how someone could do something so horrible to her. she couldn't get the weight of embarrassment off of her chest. the thing is, the weight of what happened grows heavier every day. it grows fat on the anguish it causes mp, and it is smothering her alive. my person has to make a choice:
keep explaining away the actions of someone she thought loved her, or be heard to try to unburden herself of that weight.

my person has an appointment to speak tomorrow.
i know it will not be easy.
but it's a step towards getting herself back.

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.

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.

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.

Stay Focused

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.

400/300/235

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.

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.

"If You Don't Believe in Same Sex Marriage, Then Don't Marry Someone of the Same Sex."
-Wanda Sykes

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.

"even the worst, most intractable mistake beats the hell out of never trying."
-- g. a.

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.

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.

when i put out the declarative that i wouldn't share
i didn't realize that what i was really saying is that
i won't share me.

it isn't time.

i will, however, lease m.p. for the right amount.

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.

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.

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.

Hockey Season Starts Today

Then and Now

Then



Now





Strength of will keeps my person going.

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.