On a Whim

Many of my worst moments have occurred as a result of my impulsiveness.  On a whim I have bought $80 diet pills only to have taken them once, not liked the jittery feeling and stuffed them in my desk, traded in a perfectly good affordable car for a car that I can barely afford and don't really like, and had every hair color and cut imaginable...

I have topped my dumbest moment..topped it with a topper that rivals the top of the toppers.  It all started with my looking for a personal trainer on Craigslist.  ( I have a cleaning lady and I want a personal trainer...in my mind I make a lot of money...in my mind).  Well, apparently I am the only person in the entire state of Vermont that is not okay with love handles because there are NO personal trainers in VT...not on Craigslist anyway.  But, there is a high school student that does hair extensions.  Sane people at this point would say hmmm. high school student, not a good idea.  Not me.  I was more excited than when I found out there was going to be a Sex in the City sequel.  Immediately, I emailed high school hair doer.  I told her that I had been looking for someone to do hair extensions for a long time and emailed her a picture of my flat lifeless hair.  She immediately responded and we set a time to hairify.

This Saturday I woke up at 6:30 and set off for the almost 2 hr drive north to total strangers house with visions of myself with Goldilocks hair beautiful, silky and head turning.  I arrived at a middle class development and felt relieved.  this was not a house that I could imagine a serial killer dwelling in.  I knocked on the door and an adorable, African teenager answered the door.  She barely spoke English but I managed to understand that she had a problem.  She couldn't get the hair. 

I had just driven 2 hrs...I was going back with long hair one way or another.  She said we could go to the African Market in Burlington and get the hair together.  I was game.

We loaded into my car where at first she sat there silent as could be.  I asked her the questions I am sure she has answered a gabillion (that's a lot) times.  Why did she move to VT from Senegal etc.  She was there because her father (whom I had not seen yet) had fallen in love with a tourist- I'm not kidding when I say that her stepmother was en elementary school art teacher.  She was as like an elementary school art teacher as yours and mine.  She was crafty and white and apparently in love with everything African- even the men. 

Anyway back to the hairy adventure.  African teen and I arrive at the African Market...it smelled like baby oil and fried rice.  The woman that owned the store helped us to the bin of hair where we found a close match to my own color.  Thrilled we headed back to the house.  That is when I met Dad.  Dad was a Rastafarian.  Dred locks, beanie, baggy linen pants and flip flops.  I have found many black men attractive, this one was not.  This was a face that only an art teacher could love.  With a rolled cigarette in his mouth he nodded to me.  I nodded back.

We went to the porch where I would sit for the next four hours while African Teen sewed someone elses hair into my now numb skull.  I was looking at the beautiful day before me and thinking that once I saw my beautiful new tresses it would be worth my wasting an entire day at a strangers house, 2 hrs away from my own. 

Go look in the mirror.  tell me if you like.
I rush to the bathroom where I throw on the light and look in the mirror.  Staring back at me is not the beautiful should- be celeb I was picturing.  No.  Staring back at me mocking me and now beginning to cry was John Travolta in the movie Hair Spray.  I had a lions mane- down to the middle of my back.  I looked like a washed ashore mermaid.  A strawberry blond rats nest sat atop my teary eyed face.  Then I thought of sweet little African teen, and I sucked it up.  I walked out of the bathroom and gave her a thumbs up- it was easier than coming up with words. 
You like it?
I mmmm- hmmmed.  I haded her a check- with a larger than necessary tip and said thank you, and left. 
On the way home I cried, and laughed and did everything but pay attention to the road.  God wasn't going to punish me further.
Luckily the hair has managed to fall quite a bit.  I look more like a Barbie Doll than John Travolta's stunt double.  I still don't like it, but its better.  I have decided to force myself to live with the result of my latest whim in hopes that it will be a constant reminder of what not to do.  If I ever begin talking about cheap tummy tucks in Tiawana...please STOP ME!

Morgan U Meets Muscles

This week I met muscles in my body that previously I was completely unaware of.  I have a muscle just below the sagging crease of my bottom, somewhere below the exact spot that my saddle bags have been dwelling for as long as I can remember.  Deep, underneath the dimpled skin has been this muscle.  I tried to google the name of it and got nothing so I have named it my Bin Laden muscle for its fantastic ability to hide undetected for all these years.  this is not the only new muscle that I have met since beginning my strength training class.  There are two muscles right below Mary Kate and Ashley Boobson (my ta-tas).  I am hoping that if I pay attention to these muscles The Boobson twins may decide that there is life after nursing.
I have taken two classes so far and the results are - sore muscles, and less of a guilty feeling when I am pouring my totally deserved glass of wine at the end of the night.  I am proud of myself and have been having fun with it too.  For the 27th time this year I am vowing to you that I am turning over a new leaf.  This time the turning may take a little longer because my Oprah's ( the muscles under my arms that I was sure were wings) are a bit tender and bending over to the leaf may take a second more because I have a sharp stabbing pain in my back (that I will call Jesse James).
To leaf turning and new found friends!!!
To leaf turning and new found friends!!!
To leaf turning and new found friends!!!
To leaf turning and new found friends!!!
To leaf turning and new found friends!!!
Two more you can do it!
To leaf turning and new found friends!!!
one more- make it count!
Toooo leaf turning and                      newwwww found frienDs  !!!  Now for push ups!

Bathing Beauties

This weekend I came to a revelation.  The majority of the bodies on the beach- In Vermont anyway- are well... lets just say not awe inspiring.  When bathing suit season rolls into town- I go into panic mode.  I stock up on green tea, Sally Hansen Air Brush legs, and clothing that promises to slim.  One year I bought an at home seaweed wrap and had to ask Honey to help Saran Wrap me from head to toe.  I didn't lose anything except maybe a little of Honeys admiration. 
Anyway back to the point of the rant.  While sitting on the beach in my sexy Marylin Monroe esq cover up, I surveyed the area.  People watching is my favorite sport and one that I am remarkably good at.  Let me paint the picture for you.
To my left was a mother of tween boys- clearly oblivious to their bratty behavior and also clearly oblivious to the fact that unless you are Jennifer Anniston- women should retire the bikini when the body starts heading south.  Behind me- skinny 16 year old blonde that was there just to taunt me.  I could feel her looking at me and saying "OMG, I am sooooo never having kids, I think I'll adopt so that I can eat what ever I want and still have an ass the size of a soft ball."
Next to Twiggy was her chubby friend in an equally small bathing suit.  Chubby was most likely there to make Twiggy feel even thinner- much like the massive amounts of leg makeup that I slathered on my entire body pre beach.
To my right, the trashy girls with their over weight children and endless supply of cigarettes which they felt okay smoking while holding obese children.  Combined all three moms age was maybe 38 and combined they had 5 children with them.  They were of proper age to be wearing bikinis but they missed the no bikinis after stretch mark memo.
Im going to hell. I know this.

In front of me was the mother that waited to have a little dorkie child until her 40s.  She was wearing Berkenstocks and a tee shirt over her bathing suit.  I almost thanked her for that.  Her child was hyper active and pale.  He was in a wetsuit because older moms are nuerotic.  He acted younger than his age because I am sure Berkenstock mother didn't believe in public education therefor her nerdy little son is most likely homeschooled.  He probably has a scheduled play date with another nerdy child once a week at the food co-op.

Not far from us was the family reunion group.  They had their fold-a-chairs in a circle- all facing eachother.  The had no beer, on Memorial day weekend...I was glad to not be in that family.

I try my hardest to make the most out of my catty-ness.  I try to learn a lesson from my endless judgement of others.  This weekend I learned that I should lose the cover up and rock the bikini- not only do I only have a few more years of acceptability but compared to the average beach goer I look like Gisele!