-108 LBS, My New IUD and Pain, Jack Osbourne, To Get Naked or Not to Get Naked, Senator John McCain's Ninety Year Old Sweetheart of An Auntie, Beau's Bad Day, and Thong Underwear
I love this print but it's actually a little more chartreuse in person. I wish I could find it in big sheets. I scanned this off the border of a frame. I love Asian looking illustrations.
The protein shakes have really been working, not just for me but for Irma and Esther as well. Everyone's losing weight, it's so exciting. I went to my gynecologist yesterday to get an IUD and when I weighed in I'd lost more weight and when I asked them to check what I had weighed when I was there last year it turns out I weighed a couple pounds more than I thought so this changes my weight loss total, making it 108, which is pretty darned motivating and exciting, yeay.
I got an IUD because the pill wasn't working too well for me and well, condoms are just so dissatisfying, good as they are for people who aren't in long term monogamous relationships. I just want to be able to feel his skin you know, and I want him to be able to feel me and have it feel good. I think condoms dull sensation and in terms of sensation are akin to putting a balloon on your finger and sucking on it. Plus we think I'm allergic to latex and the only other alternative condom-wise involves animal parts, no thanks.
I took pain medicine before hand, just in case, and boy was I glad I did because I felt like I've just had a whole year's worth of period cramps in just one afternoon and evening. I am in such pain right now, still cramping, but not so much bleeding anymore. It's so weird because I've had IUDs before, twice before, and I don't remember this kind of cramping and pain. Maybe it has something to do with this one having progesterone in it. They gave me a choice between the copper one and the progesterone one and my doctor felt the latter would be better for me considering I'm a PCOS gal.
BTW a big beautiful boyfriend credit must be given to my Scotty for taking time off from his stressful job to go with me to hold my hand, and for being so patient with me all these months, while we tried to figure out what the best birth control alternative would be. Love him so much!
Here are some wacqui things I bought at the antique mall yesterday, but I don't know if you can really see any of them in this picture. The mini Adirondack chair is for a teddy we're going to list on eBay. The little elf was only 20.00 and he's from the fifties. There are some celluloid animals, a cat and dog, some beaded flowers, some tiny crocheted metal squares, and two pretty crystal curtain tie backs. I love antique malls.
Beau and I ran into Jack Osbourne again yesterday. He just seems to hang out in all of the same places where we do. You know I really love this kid with his big fuzzy mop of hair. People have somehow got a very mistaken impression of him. Whenever I've seen him in person and on television in interviews all I perceive is this very sensitive, sweet, lovely young man. Yes, he had a hard time there for a bit but who wouldn't with everything that came at him in such a short time. He can't go anywhere without people recognizing him, and fame has it's very ugly complicated intrusive side. In fact I felt a bit guilty for approaching him yesterday but Beau just so adores him and all we really want to do is cheer him on and tell him how proud we are of him and how much we love his family, especially his Mum, so I can't see how that would hurt.
We said hello and he was unfailingly polite, just as he was the last time. I told him how much his taking that picture with Beau had meant to him and told him that we had both been to see two tapings of his mother's show and loved it. He was just so sweet and said, "Right on, right on," a lot. I really do love this kid and wish the best for him. I was happy to see him out and about with his friends, just hanging out and being normal.
Another nice and also confusing thing is all of the attention I've been getting from people for my weight loss. It seems to be getting more drastic with each passing day. People are saying things like, "Hey Skinny," when at two hundred and seventeen pounds I can hardly be called skinny but compared to before I guess I am. Plus I've never really looked my weight, I'm lucky in that my body is able to spread it out pretty evenly. Lately it seems to have been using the last little bits of fat around my knees and I'm feeling bone there where I haven't felt it before. I'll think something's wrong, or out of place, and then realize that it's just bones showing through and that it's normal.
The manager of my pharmacy wasn't sure it was me when I came in and kind of acted a bit odd when he was asking me a question and then when he was sure that it was indeed me, he told me he hadn't been sure because I looked so different. Same for my friends at the pet store and Mailboxes etc. I just pray that the weight loss continues, that my energy increases and that I don't put this back on.
Prank phone call, great -- oh well, I figure I deserve them and am getting my karma back from having made so many when I was little, oh noooo it wasn't it was my friend Karen, too funny.
Here are a couple of pictures of Irma's favorite bunny. We take him for little walks with this leash. I just wanted to show you so I took these quick shots.
I know I should put up another set of before and after shots for you and I will but I have to get caught up on eBay first, then I have to get back to all of my kind LJ pals who offered to help me with my website and Flash animations, bless you my lovely darlings. Then when and if I ever get that done, I'll root around and find a better before and take a new after.
I seriously don't know how long it will take me to work up the courage to share naked before and afters but at some point I will, if only to really horrify everyone, heh. Although the loose saggy skin part of this whole thing might scare off some potential WLS candidates and I honestly don't want to do that. On the other hand it could be more helpful to people than harmful, but and this is going to sound so silly, I still have hopes of making it as an actor, and I wouldn't want naked fat and jiggly shots of my body to turn up in the Star someday. This is what gives me pause, this more than the fear that some big gal loving stranger might be secretly getting off to them.
Oh, and this is too funny, as if it were a warning bolt from the sky, the phone just rang and it was one of my Mother's best friends, who I absolutely adore, Roweena Willis. She's ninety something years old and one of the smartest, dearest, and most charming people you're ever likely to meet -- a very proper Southern lady. Someone who would be absolutely horrified if she ever got a peek at some of the things I write about here, especially a discussion about whether I should show photographs of myself naked, before and after my weight loss surgery.
She actually had me frightened for a moment there because she started out the conversation like this, "Darling Jacqui, it's me Roweena. Now you know how much I love you and your dear Mother and I would never want to hurt you, but there are two things that have just recently come to my attention, and I hate to interfere, but I thought I should call and tell you." Thump, thump, thump -- the sound of my heart beating as adrenaline rushes to my chest. Could someone have somehow got ahold of my journal and shared it with her? Are there nudie pictures of me floating around on the Internet? Have I done something untoward that would forever shun me from polite society? What could it be?
Turns out she saw an old copy of The Blue Book, Los Angeles' Society Register, and she's worried that my name is still linked with Robby's, my ex, and that he is still in the book, and that this could come back to haunt me, etc., etc. So sweet, but so unnecessary for her to concern herself over, and the other thing was this long complicated story about some important embassy official who was posted to Paris who "had gone to all the right schools, Groton, (seriously far afield segue here -- I was looking up the spelling for Groton and found this interesting document about a case of purported witchcraft that appeared in a local paper in Massachusetts, to anyone interested in the Salem Witchcraft trials and this whole era of persecution this document A briefe account of a strange & unusuall Providence of God befallen to Elizabeth Knap of Groton might make for interesting reading), and Princeton, his family own a third of Charles Schwab. Well, we thought he was all right but then the marriage didn't work out and can you believe it he actually came after my dear friend for spousal support?"
Phew at least she wasn't calling about anything horrible I might have done in my sleep, or without thinking, or something. A photo of myself from Burning Man? Who knows. But I just love listening to her. Elder people are so wonderful, their stories are so fabulous and interesting, if you have the patience for the rambling, which of course I do, being a master rambler myself.
Roweena, as I'm sure I've mentioned before, is the twin sister of Roberta McCain and the beloved aunt of Senator John McCain, who I admire very much. He's like another son to her, and I just love to ask her questions about him whenever I get a chance. I asked her today why he isn't running and she said, "Well darling if you notice, and this is kind of a lesson in life dear, but John has never said anything against Bush ever. That's just how he is. But Bush, you know, his spokesman came out three days before the election and said that John had fathered two black babies, as if he'd gone off and had some affair, when the truth of it is that Cindy is so good, bless her heart, that she went off with this group she likes to travel with -- those doctors who travel to foreign countries and donate their time -- and she brought back two babies from Bangladesh who had been abandoned because they were very ill. Both of them with cleft palette and both with special needs and they adopted them. Now that's a very good thing as far as I'm concerned, and how they can twist that, well, I'm as Southern as a person can be, my Father was born on a plantation and we still own this plantation, but to say this about John is not only an insult to John and Cindy, but is frankly racist and unfair. But it wasn't a lie because he had in a way fathered these two children, but do you think they'd clear that up, tell the truth? Why, not on your life. I love politics but it can be very rough and very mean."
These last couple of days have been a big hairy ride cat wise. Out of the five kittens we had two more die and then the day before yesterday Irma woke me up holding the little black one who was arresting so I jumped out of bed and gave it mouth to mouth and massaged it's little chest while Irma floored it to the hospital. We sat there for three hours while they worked on him and came out and talked to us in between their regularly scheduled appointments. I was still in my nightgown and socks with my hair all wild because I hadn't even taken the time to put on shoes as he was literally dying in my hands. I had to breath for him all the way to the hospital and it saved his little life. It turns out they had caught a parasite from their Mom and we didn't even know she had it or how she got it. The parasite caused them to get dangerously low blood sugar and made it impossible for their tiny bodies to absorb the food and water and kitten milk we've been working so hard to get into them. So now I'm nursing one little tabby round the clock and the little black boy is in the emergency hospital but we visited him and he's coming around.
Last night Beau was being an overtired hormonally out of control monster monkey. He left his door ajar somehow yesterday morning and the cats got in and knocked things over so Irma and Esther went in and kindly took the time to clean it all up. While they were there they took out his mountain of trash and straightened things up, a little bit. When he discovered this he went wild. He said we lied to him and that we promised never to clean his room without him, etc., etc. I tried to be kind and patient and understanding with him but he was so intractable and babyish and hysterical about the whole thing that I raised my voice and then left his room. I can't risk sending my blood pressure through the roof by engaging in an argument with an unreasonable hysterical boy child, no matter how much I love him.
So far his teenagerhood is really sucking for all of us. We'll get through this like everyone does but it's a drag. One minute he's lovely and the next he's totally wild and unreasonable. Esther and Irma get no thanks for their hard work at straightening up his filthy slovenly pig pie room, and I have to deal with a bratty, insolent, hysterically wailing baby. I understand that he needs to feel in control, and having control of his room and his things is the heart of this for him, but when we've asked him over and over to please throw away his trash, to not leave food, plates, forks, spoons, half empty cereal cartons, and to not throw his clothes all over the floor, to please toss out the plastic wrapping and paper boxes that his new games and toys come in, to pick up the little bits and pieces of his games and toys that get scattered all over the place, and the pens, pencils, papers, books, and electronic games, and then he doesn't, someone has to step in.
I feel like we've tried everything and exhausted all solutions. We've tried cleaning it for him. I've tried positive reinforcement. I've tried leaving it until it punishing him. I've tried helping him clean it up, I've tried organizing it and showing him where to put things to make it easier for him, I've bought organizer baskets and new furniture... Oh I could go on and on, and I know what I have to do, I have to go in there with him and step by step show him how to clean up and organize his stuff, but we've done it before and it always gets insanely messy again. I guess we just have to be patient and do it again and again until he gets it. Blah and blah. You should hear how he was stomping and throwing stuff around and yelling and crying. Then when I confronted him about it and told him to please calm down he said he didn't know what I was talking about.
And all of this while I'm cramping and bleeding and wearing an embarrassing Depends undergarment because I stupidly forgot to wear underwear to the gynecologist. I don't like them. I've been a big gal for so long and underwear to me just represent discomfort, I'd rather wash my clothes every day and forego the squeezing around my tummy. Maybe something will change when I lose more weight, some mystery of thin women that I don't get yet, because I'm not thin enough, will magically transform me and suddenly I will enjoy wearing thong underwear.
I think they look great on great bodies and if I had a hot body I still don't think I would enjoy wearing them except when I wanted people to see my hot body in them. I mean don't they ride up your crack and make you uncomfortable? My ex gynecologist led this big anti thong campaign because she thinks they carry bacteria from the back to the front if ya get my meaning. But it turns out she was promoting her own line of underwear. She was always promoting something but when she added a spa to her line of services, (a what, a vagina spa)? that's when I left in search of greener pastures.
Okay well, I've blabbed enough for one day, and naturally accomplished very little of all the many things I always have piled up around here waiting for me to do. Off to the garden to sort through boxes, yech.