|Here's the story of a middle aged fat lady
who was busy blogging her life away.
There were seens from the porch
Seens from the recliner
Seens from the new porch.
Trips wrongly made to the men's room.
Yet she was all alone.
Until one day the MA Fat Lady
saw her doctor
and was advised to get back to her presmoking weight.
It's been three years she said
no longer an excuse
But, I'm the MA Fat Woman, I said.
I don't care, become the MA Not So Fat Woman
So, there you have it. It kind of makes sense if you read the words like you would sing the Brady Bunch theme.
The dreaded D word!
I'd rather have diarrhea than be on a diet. And don't tell me it's for my own health, or it will make me feel better. Don't call me Fatty or Fatass! I poke enough fun at my own self. I already know all of that.
Now, anyone got a light?
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
|The following conversation took place on a recent morning when Mom called me at home in a panic. It's 28 miles to my mom's house...
Mom: Emergency! I gotta emergency. I need you to come right away and carry Brother to his eye surgery. I locked the keys in the car.
Me: But, Mom? It's gonna take me at least 30 minutes to get there if I run out the door right now and then another 45 minutes to cross over the mountain.
Mom: You can make it. You know you drive that Mustang like someone is chasing you all the time. Can you come right now?
Me: I haven't even had a shower yet. Why don't you call that guy up the road? He can be there in 15 minutes.
Mom: I need you to come now. Can't you come as you are?
Mom: Hurry! He's gotta be there by 12:30. Click! (It was 11:15 at that point)
Now, there was no way in hell that I was walking out the door the way I was dressed. My hair was sweaty and matted and my legs were green. I had on mismatched socks, an old bleached out T-shirt, no bra, cut off sweats and combat boots. I'd been weed eating and had only come inside because I needed a drink.
I took the fastest shower imaginable and was out the door in 8 minutes. Record time! I took the backway to Mom's house, doing 70 in a 45 mph zone the whole way. I got stuck at a traffic light about 3 miles from her house when my cell rang.
Mom: Never mind. I got it unlocked, where are you?
Me: I'm near the Dairy Queen.
Mom: Well, never mind. I don't need you now. At least you didn't have to come the whole way...
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
|Mom and I have been speaking a little more than once a week on the phone. I'm not sure why we bother. The following is how the conversation usually takes place after I call her:
...followed by still more silence...
Me: Aren't you gonna say anything?
Mom: I said hello! You're the one that called me, aren't you? I'm just waiting on you to tell me why you called...
...see what I mean.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
|I've been really busy lately and hadn't seen much of Mom so I was tickled when she called and wanted to know if I wanted to take her out to eat. She had a 2-for-1 coupon on select dishes at Ruby Tuesday and if we both drank water we should be able to keep the tab under 20 bucks.
I met her at the restaurant and it seemed like everyone wanted to use their coupon that night--the place was packed. As we were waiting to be seated I noticed a woman behind us that was totally perturbed that she was having to wait. She was fussing about the line, she was fussing about the wait time, she was fussing because she had to wait outside, she was fussing because she didn't have a 2-for-1 coupon.
We were seated after a short wait and we were both glad to be away from that lady. She was trying to ruin our dinner. Mom, who was in charge of the coupon kept waving it around like it was a 1000 dollar bill or something. I told her to drop it but she said she didn't want to forget about it. The waitress took our drink orders, she ordered a sweet tea and I got a Diet Coke. (We forgot to get water)
I needed to excuse myself for a moment and passed the grumpy lady being led to her table as I was walking to the ladies room. I muttered to myself that I hoped that lady didn't end up sitting beside us.
Upon returning to my seat I wasn't too surprised to see the old windbag at the table right beside me and her chair was also right beside mine. Mom was grinning like she had just hit the jackpot at one of her weekly Bingo contests and had grabbed the coupon and started waving it around again. I struggled to get into my seat without bumping her because she had her chair pushed all the way back. I bumped her anyway which set her off about how close the tables were. We had just settled down when the server had taken our orders and said we could go help ourselves at the salad bar.
I went to the salad bar first and left Mom and her coupon guarding the purses. Several people were ahead of me and I waited patiently for my turn. I loaded my plate up with my usual combo which is lettuce, cheese, ham, if available, one small grape tomato, croutons, and ranch dressing. The line was moving smoothly until the lady in front of me said "Uh, oh, they're out of ranch dressing."
Uh, oh is right. "We'll wait," I said. I WAS NOT going back to my table without my ranch dressing. We snagged an employee that was walking by and informed her of the situation. As the moments lagged on and the backup at the salad bar continued to grow I could hear a familiar voice at the end of the line. Bitching, complaining, griping, she was wearing the whole restaurant out. What's the holdup? Why isn't the line moving? What's that big girl (me) up there doing? Why isn't she leaving the salad bar? Did she eat all the food?
Now, I'm not immune to such comments and I had just about had my fill of this woman. They filled the ranch dressing container up and I got mine and headed back to the table. The lady had turned around just as I was about to make a scene. Somebody needed to shut her up.
I was seated enjoying my salad and ranch dressing when she came back to her table. Of course, she bumped me as she sat down and that caused her to look my way. Her brows lifted in recognition and she asked what the holdup was at the salad bar.
"They were out of ranch dressing," I replied.
"Well, good heavens! It goes to figure they would run out as short staffed as these places are, they charge you an arm and a leg for a little bitty plate of food. And don't get me started on what they charge for a drink. Honey, you did the right thing by waiting up there even though you held up the line. Well, I better get to eating now, enjoy your meal."
Friday, September 18, 2009
|I was saddened to hear about the passing of folk singer Mary Travers. At first, when I read about it on my homepage I didn't connect who this person was. Then I heard on the nightly news that it was Mary from Peter, Paul and Mary.
I loved to hear this trio sing. At some point in my life I have warbled along to Puff The Magic Dragon, This Land is Your Land, Lemon Tree, If I had a Hammer, Blowin' in the Wind, and my favorite, Leaving on a Jet Plane. My sister, Big Red, and myself loved to harmonize right along with them as they sang.
I have the group's Greatest Hits compilation which has all of the good songs in one place.
I have it as an album.
I have it as an eight track.
I have it on cassette.
I have it on CD.
I have downloaded it from ITunes.
I have it on my Ipod.
Her voice was genuine and real. I liked it because I could understand what she and the whole group was saying. I like to sing along.
Mary, you will be missed.
Rest in peace.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
|My neighbor died the other day. I can't really say anything about her because I didn't know her. We were neighbors for fifteen years (she was the wife of the banker that lived on the other side of me)and I had never been in their house. Sometimes, we would exchange waves if we saw each other out back or I might glimpse her at the mailbox as I drove past. I know she fed the stray cats that seemed to multiply like crazy every few months.
I saw her husband more often. He had a real nice riding lawn mower (Cub Cadet) and I couldn't help but watch him as he mowed. I have a thing about riding lawn mowers. He's come over to the house once or twice to offer assistance when I was trying to get out of the driveway after an ice storm. He thought I was nuts trying to drive 30 miles to work on a sheet of ice. But, you know the old post office motto: Neither through sleet, snow or blah, blah, blah shall deter us from our duty and I always arrived in one piece.
When I heard the news of her passing several thoughts passed through my mind. First, I was sorry for the family, and second, I was glad it wasn't someone in my family. Then I wondered if I should go to visitation, send flowers, or take over food. I'm not sure if I would even be recognized in dress clothes or not...not that it mattered.
After sleeping on it I decided I would go to the visitation. It seemed like the neighborly thing to do. When I pulled up to the facility for visitation I noticed my neighbor's name on the marquee. You see, when you utilize this particular funeral home they put your name up in lights outside on a large sign. I used to think this was strange but I've driven passed several times and wondered who they had and all I had to do was look at the sign.
I was a little apprehensive as I walked up the steps. What do I say? What if I say the wrong thing? What if everyone wonders who I am? What if everyone knows who I am and wonders why I came? Why didn't I just send some flowers? Maybe I shouldn't have worn pants? Does my hair look okay? Will I know anyone? I hope I don't know anybody. I'll just sign the book and leave.
I walked into Chapel D and immediately saw my neighbor. He was wearing a dark suit and was seated on a stool beside his wife's coffin. He looked beaten and haggard, had dark circles under his eyes and glanced at me with a look of surprise.
I was behind a lady who obviously was a family friend. I listened as they traded small talk about how long it had been since they had seen one another. How what a nice lady she was. How she loved crossword puzzles and loved to bake. He had tried to get her to go places at times but she always seemed content at home. She had a relatively new car and had only put 2500 miles on it in the last 3 years. She went to the Piggly Wiggly every Sunday after church and bought the week's groceries.
As the lady drifted away it was my turn to offer my condolences. He thanked me several times for coming and I commented on who was now going to feed the cats. He gave a small chuckle and said he didn't know but he had fed them this morning. My neighbor said his wife loved feeding those cats even though they were strays. It gave her great joy.
I had learned more about that nice lady in the last five minutes than I had known for the previous 15 years. Don't worry about your strays friend, I'll make sure they get fed. After all, it's the neighborly thing to do...
Friday, September 4, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
|The blog and I are getting Botox and having some other work done. We'll be back soon with a new and improved look!
BTW, I'm now on Twitter! So, click that link near the upper right hand corner and sign on up to be a follower. I'm sure I'll be addicted to it soon.
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MA Fat Woman