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Showing posts from February, 2010

Heavy thoughts

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You all know, by now,  that I'm trying to get healthy and, in turn, lose weight.  It's not that I feel awful or have major health issues, but there's no doubt that improvement can be made on my overall state of mind, energy level and physical appearance.  Only moments ago a thought jumped into my head as I went to the kitchen to get breakfast (a blend of Chocolate and Banana Nut Cheerios).  Do thin people -- those who've never battled the bulge or suffer from eating disorders -- do they think about food even when they aren't hungry? Obviously planning dinners etc are expected. Do they consciously choose something healthy even though they are craving a piece of pineapple upside down cake or a bacon & blue cheese-half pound burger? Or, do they just eat what they want but naturally stop before they are full?  Is eating what they want in moderation something innate or a conscious choice? I'm convinced there is, in my case, some childhood psychosis attached to

Off with her flab!!

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grody fat. 2 lbs gone, baby! February 22nd was the start of getting healthy for not so little me.  With the assistance of EA Sports Active, I manage to burn calories without the embarrassment of people seeing me look like a complete oaf while attempting the moves.  The fortunate thing is that I live in a house rather than an apartment. If that was the case, my downstairs neighbors would most certainly think Illinois was experiencing another 3.8 on the Richter Scale earthquake.  I am not light on my feet. Thus far it's not difficult.  The most challenging part (other than getting up and doing it) is holding the controllers properly so the movements register.  One of the activities is a run/walk/high step interval. If you know my body type, you're fully aware that running isn't an easily executed task. Yes, I need a solid sports bra to help me overcome the current pain I feel in my chesticular zone while running.  Anyway, the inspirational coach (a female in this case) wil

My booty makes men high?

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Finally! I can relax knowing that when men see my big, round tushy and ample bosom that it's equivalent to taking drugs. Good ones, too! Apparently, men are hard wired to love a woman's curves for a reason. The bootilicious zone is neurologically a reward center to the brain of a man. So, tell me again why models are essentially curveless? We've been force fed that super skinny is sexy. Yet, this report contradicts what seems to be accepted and depicted as sexy. Many men DO like curves? I've been told this over the years, but it's nice to have science to back up the assertion. What it all boils down to is survival of the fittest or the natural inclination to reproduce. A woman with a curvaceous figure is perceived as being able to carry babies. The phrase, "that girl has birthing hips" shouldn't be considered an insult after all.  You can read all about it in this article at Mail Online . And for you guys who can't seem to put down that Maxim, Pl

Countdown to thirty

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As a gift to myself, I mentioned on February 15th that I bought the EA Sports Active program for the Wii. Prior to buying it I had been sick.  Even though I've managed to feel better, my lungs weren't up to the challenge. Or, at least that is the story I was feeding myself while indulging on crap-food.  The subconscious Marissa was fighting the pending launch back into a healthier lifestyle.  My subconscious alter-ego is ultra lazy and craves junk food.  While I do not crave or love sweets, that chubby nitwit devours them before the conscious me is aware. I'm sure she has chloroform in her arsenal in which to render the smart me into a delirious haze of submission. With all the chips out of the house, Monday is a new week.  Today, I tore into the cellophane of the EA program like Charlie Bucket tears into that Wonka Bar.  Being excited, even if feigned, helps the endeavor along.  At least for me.  Naturally, I wouldn't be able to perform the required workout while wea

Empty handed

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Yesterday I lamented how it seems in the world of dating I am a poster child for Murphy's Law.  Thanks to the Internet, we're now (and have been) able to meet people around the globe.  No longer do we have to wait for happenstance to introduce us -- vacations, business trips, etc...Simply log on to a social network and the doors of hospitality open. It's a work in progress and who knows how it will all unfold. hmmm I wonder how I can incorporate a vacation with Mancub into the mix :)  Now, for the stupidstitious thing that left me with a smackerel feeling of angst.  Mancub and I went out for some low key retail therapy.  It's unusual for me to indulge in this sort of activity. In typical fashion, I spent the majority on the boy.  Target had some cool, vintage looking t-shirts. He selected Captain America and Ghostbusters shirts. I got a hypoallergenic eyeliner (woo! big spender) and stocked up on allergy meds and the like.  I'm a maniac!  In addition, Mancub got

Single girl seeks cool as hell single man

This is difficult for me to articulate.  However, I will make a valiant attempt. Being single sucks ass. How's that for eloquence?  Oh, sure I make it look like a walk in the park, but I am sick of taking that walk alone, do you dig?  Here's the rub: In my numerous years of singledom, I have become ridiculously particular.  Shame on me. And shame on the men who don't measure up to my expectations. It's not like ordering Chinese take-out. Here's another thorn in my side.  Sometimes a person drops from the sky (no, not a skydiver) who just rocks your proverbial world, but they aren't exactly conveniently located.  DAMN IT! I suspect a sane person might shrug it off and move on to the next contestant on the Dating Game. But alas, you're discerning and can't stop thinking that there's a reason this awesome cat came from out of the blue and into your dominion. Plus, this guy is f'ing cool that you're willing to walk across broken glass while b

We Are The World at 25

Competitive Caterwauling with a purpose and a whole lot of Autotune. With that being said, it is for a noble cause and the people of Haiti will benefit greatly. You donate your money in any way you choose. There's a link for another worthy cause in the right margin of this blog. Some people may love the song because their favorite artist has a solo.  Some might enjoy the video for the pure entertainment value. For me, it's simply something you can't UNhear. All the Q-tips in the world can't remove the memory of it from my ears.  That's not to say every performer is sub-par. No, actually some of them are quite talented singers on their own, but it seems it was forgotten that this was supposed to be a group effort. I know many of the parts were done separately. They had stand ins wear green so actors and singers could be later added for the video to fill those spots.  You have to love the frills and thrills of modern technology. Immediately after viewing the video

There's got to be a Monday after ....

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It's February 15th and I managed to survive the dread of Valentine's Day. Oh glory be! To celebrate with myself, I purchased a long needed and awaited programmable coffee maker. This time I ditched the conventional glass pot that sits on a warmer only to have its contents scorched. The Keurig and it's specialty pods were passed over, as well.  Instead, I bought a shiny, stainless carafe version that keeps my java hot (it really does) and has matching travel mugs. There is a setting so coffee can be dripped directly into the cups. Oooh fancy. I love it. I loved it even more that when I came downstairs this morning I smelled fresh coffee.  Oh sure, I would have loved an adoring man standing in the kitchen with a mug in hand, but I've learned to accept fate. Half of my fantasy came true thanks to my own doing. In addition to the coffee maker, I picked up a lovely bouquet of flowers to put on my dining table. No need to wait for a man to buy them for me.  Once again it

That's All

Deep down inside the romantic girl dreams of a boy who'll twirl her around the dance floor while this song is sung -- and it will be forever. Until then, I wish you all a beloved Valentine's Day that carries on and on and on ....

My ego needed augmentation

It's difficult to feel bodacious when, in the course of 3 days, you've worn nothing but pajamas and your head is so filled with snot that sneezing gives way to panic that your head will explode. Flat hair and a red nose does not describe hotness. Even the most confident woman might be left feeling less than sexually intoxicating under these conditions. I am not that confident woman. That is unless you're asking me if I'm certain that I currently feel like hell warmed over. Alas, I have taken to task to answer the BODACIOUS question of the week posed by Jane at Confessions of a Middle-Aged Suburban Diva.  She asks: What is your personal theme song ... why did you choose it? Oof! With consideration to the theme of 'being bodacious', I had to dig deep under my current health conditions.  I grew up as the youngest child in a household of eight children.  For as long as I can remember I made choices based on what I thought everyone wanted me to do.  I gave u

Isn't she lovely?

I know that my head hasn't increased in size nor has anyone filled it with helium; yet, it feels like one of those big Spongebob party balloons complete with springy tissue paper legs. My body is sitting here while my noggin' is be-boppin' on the other side of the room. All I want to do is sleep. My system is rather sensitive to cold medicines. That includes the non-drowsy variety. The result is the zombification of Miss Riss. Thankfully, one of my co-workers is covering my shift for me tonight. Truly, I couldn't see getting up the energy to work. Quite literally, my face aches. With itchy, burning eyes and an adorable hack when I cough, I'm sure they're grateful that I'm remaining at home to wither and moan. The other day I left work early. My nose was so red and raw that I looked as pathetic as I felt.  Neo-sporin has helped heal my shnoz and upper lip. Puffs infused with soothing aloe lotion have been a saving grace in all of this. The downside is that

My universe needs balance

Yeah, yeah. I know. Yesterday I was all Little Miss Cynical . Today, I give it counterbalance by providing you with this lovely little tune. I'm not 100% cold hearted and shut off from the concept of love. I just don't like the über importance placed on one single holiday.  It's too much pressure. Ladies and gentlemen, from her album Medusa: Annie Lennox Something So Right You've got the cool water When the fever runs high And you've got the look of love right in your eyes And I was in a crazy motion 'Till you calmed me down It took a little time But you calmed me down Some people never say the words "I love you" It's not their style to be so bold Some people never say the words "I love you" But like a child they're longing to be told They've got a wall in China It's a thousand miles long To keep out the foreigners They made it strong And I've got a wall around me That you can't even see It took a little tim

Give them a day and they want a week

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Valentine's Day. Blech! A DAY. One unit comprised of 24 hours. That's enough. But now I see ads for Valentine's Week. Valentine's Weekend.  When will it stop? Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not opposed to love or romance. Quite frankly, I'm open to both.  And another thing, please don't tell me I have the greatest love of all.  My son is a treasure. That I'm fully aware. Cupid's arrow had absolutely nothing to do with that unquestionable affection, either. Please don't be condescending by reminding me that I'm loved by so many people. You know exactly what the modern Valentine's Day represents.  Yes, I'm a tad pissy that I am without. So sue me! I'm not angry at love.  I'm aggravated about Valentine's Day. Something else that irks me about this holiday are the people (read women) who seem to gloat that they aren't spending it snarfing down chocolates they bought for themselves. Great! Hooray. Her foolish hawt man

I feel sketchy

Yesterday morning I woke myself by coughing. Not a little baby cough. It was one of those that starts at the toes and hurtles your body into a convulsion robbing you of all the oxygen in your lungs ... zoinks. What the hell and where did it come from?  Needless to say, I went back to bed.  Rinse and repeat today.  I feel OK until the urge to cough comes along. Then, I know that relative OK-ness will be sent packing and I hack and gag like the filterless Lucky Strike chain smoking lady with the hole in her throat. Mmmm is that a hunk of lung I see? Oof! In totally unrelated news, here are two of my favorite sketches from shows no longer in production.

Who dat? Who, huh?

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Sundays weren't about football in our household when I was growing up. I have no recollection of ever seeing my dad camped out in front of the television with a beer in one hand and his other hand in a bowl of snacks. Never were there neighborhood gatherings involving championship games.  My dad spent Sundays holed up at his barbershop writing, most likely, letters to the Kankakee Daily Journal's Voice of the People column. He'd labor for days over expressing his opinion. Usually it was over local or state politics. In fact, when people see my last name they recall my outspoken father.  "I may not have always agreed with him, but I had respect for his thoughtful letters."  If he wasn't in the barbershop writing, he was in the kitchen making bread, pasta or some other concoction that would ultimately become our Sunday feast. When I lived in Georgia and found myself single after nine years of marriage, I was informed by a man that that I'd stand a better c

That's what she said!

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Once again, it's time for What's Inside Marissa's Head ? In the inaugural post on this subject matter I suggested Rambling thoughts for a babbling babe . I prefer the new title. Let's move on, shall we? Luckily for people around me, most of these thoughts are filtered.  OK, no lies. I do blurt them out depending on who is around me. Some of the funniest things ever said are said at work between my favorite lab buddy. Unfortunately, the humor in those anecdotes would be lost in translation. From Wildhair Dear Fantasia: Please don't speak. Your voice is like ... ack. Just stop. ps. I don't like your singing, either. Lip liner should never match the soles of your shoes. Wow! Who'd fuck Heidi Fleiss now? Tom Sizemore, that's who. Yeeeech! Do boogers build up on nose rings? Facial piercings look like zits and ginormous skin tags. Sour cherry balls I am your bitch. yum. yum. Hummus? More like yumm-us! Why are librarians depicted as hair up, horn r

One word from a gabby girl

I just received this in an email from my sister.  Rather than follow directions (yeah, right!) I am posting it to my blog. You're welcome to copy and paste; change answers in the comments section or let me know you're posting it on your blog. Or just ignore it and go about your day. Where is your cell phone? Table Significant other? Nada Your hair? Colored Your mother? Deceased Your father? Dead Your favorite thing? Laughter Your dream last night? Prison Your Favorite Drink? Soda What room are you in? Dining Your hobby? Surfing Your fear? Loss Where do you want to be in 6 years? Alive Where were you last night? Here Something that you aren't? Thin Muffins? Chubby Wish list item? Disney Last thing you did? Bagel What are you wearing? Smile TV? On Your pets? Meow Friends? Loved Your life? Contentment Your mood? Surly Missing someone? Always Drinking? Java Your car? Saturn Something you're not wearing? Bra Your

Wild Horses: Another cover

On their 1971 release, Sticky Fingers , The Rolling Stones included the song Wild Horses . It has been widely covered -- more times than I dare to count. I confess I have not heard each and every artist who attempted to top or equal the original. Thanks to a little movie, Fear , starring Reese Witherspoon and Mark Wahlberg we were exposed to The Sundays ' take on the haunting melody. That is what I was most familiar with outside of Mick's vocals on the track.  That is until this morning.  Always a day late and a dollar short, am I! I'm not going to bother listing all the covers of this song that I didn't like. Nope. No need to waste your time or mine. Rather, let us focus on what I do like.  Please keep in mind that I absolutely love Mick and the boys first take on their composition.  Let's keep that absolutely clear.  However, not until this morning did the lyrics resonate to so deeply that tears ran down my face.  I felt a tugging at my chest as chills ran up

I wanna talk about meme

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A meme is :  An idea that, like a gene, can replicate and evolve.  A unit of cultural information that represents a basic idea that can be transferred from one individual to another, and subjected to mutation, crossover and adaptation.  A cultural unit (an idea or value or pattern of behavior) that is passed from one generation to another by nongenetic means (as by imitation); “memes are the cultural counterpart of genes”. Or in regards to the Internet:A meme spread online could be just about anything that is voluntarily shared, including phrases, images, rumors and audio or video files. An Internet meme might originate and stay online. However, frequently memes cross over and may spread from the offline world to online or vice-versa.  Generally, memes are useful when a blogger is stuck and requiring mental stimulation -- inspiration to release the creative block. Once in awhile I will participate in such a thing if I'm at a loss for words. Typically, those times are due to fe

Grammy Awards, censorship and me

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The only reason I turned on the Red Carpet pre-Grammy show and then the awards program was to lay down my own brand of snark during a live chat on a website that shall remain anonymous because I don't want to get some accusations of libel slapped on my big, fat fanny. That being said, declaring myself a fashionista is very far fetched. Likewise, I don't fancy myself a musicologist. Simply put, I know what I like and Lady Gaga ain't it! Nor is Bon Jovi. Gack!  The highlight for me was the Les Paul tribute by Imelda May performing with Jeff Beck . I could have handled ten more minutes of that. So, let me track back. Bitching was going to be put on the back burner. In fact, I was going to take the high road and just let water flow under the bridge. But then I decided I needed to get this off my ample bosom.  I was chatting along wonderfully last night. We were dogging the heinous couture of the celebs on the red carpet. A good time was being had by all.  The catch to this