Sunday, December 8, 2013

Weak Men to the Left

I know I haven't blogged in a little while (and I won't bore you with why that is) but this particular subject has been on my mind for a little while and I knew the next blog I wrote was going to be about this.

Now, let me get this on out of the way up front; I LOVE MEN. Love 'em. This is not a man-bashing post or any of that nonsense. But it is bringing attention to something that I find itchingly irksome.

There are way too many weak men. 

Let me explain what I mean. Now, I love my fellow sistas...I'm all for women's empowerment and a having an adequate level of independence and going for yours and all that. And some might not appreciate what I'm gonna say, but oh well.

One thing I've noticed is that in our constant struggle to be taken more seriously and be that strong woman that we are often situationally forced to be, we tend to emasculate the men around us. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. But too many times, it is. I've seen it firsthand so I'm not just pulling stuff out of the sky, here. Women get to enjoying the smell of their own perfume and perspiration a little too much and start getting a little too big for their tailored britches. We make the men in our lives think that they're inferior, that we don't need them, even that we're doing them some kind of favor by even being there.

But what's even worse is, the men allow this to happen. Dudes can be absolute beasts at work or anywhere else, but when they get around their women, they're like puppies. Women are often the heads of the household or the outspoken ones while the men just kind of hang in the back.

This isn't what I'm used to. I know times are different now, but when I was coming up, it was known that while my mother might have had the more in-your-face personality, my father ran things. Period. He was the head. We deferred to him. He asked for my mother's input, not her permission. And when I see how things have gone so far from this lately, it irritates me. Sometimes I just want to shake these men and scream "Where the *bleep* is your backbone?? Man up!"

I believe that art imitates life, even if it's just to a certain extent. And when I'm watching television, even the commercials, you see examples of what I'm talking about all the time:

A couple gets an insurance check and the wife snatches it out of her husband's hand and walks off with it.
A wife turns her husband's man cave into a mom cave.

Men automatically accepting the blame and apologizing for things they may or may not even be at fault for, just to keep the peace (or to still be able to get some at the end of the night).

Men that know they are in the right but always end up caving because they're so freakin' whipped. Maybe to some women this is a turn-on or something, but to me, it's a repellent. I do not want a man I can walk all over. I love and respect a man who can admit when he's wrong, but I also appreciate a man who has the balls to check me when I am, too, and we just don't see enough examples of that.

And with as much television as kids and teens watch nowadays, that's how they think it should be. Life begins to imitate art. Plenty of times I've seen little girls try to boss little boys around, and the boys just take it. Like Rudy and Bud on the Cosby Show. Clair might have set Rudy straight on that in that instance, but not enough women are are doing the same to other little girls.

And I mention this example in the Cosby Show, but there have also been examples on there between Cliff and Clair where it infuriated me how Cliff let Clair tell him what to do or have the final say or dictate what's going to be done, despite his objections. And he just let her do it. 

Look, there's nothing wrong with being strong. As women, we have to be. We've been discriminated against and overlooked so much in so many ways that in our efforts to be taken seriously and seen as equals, we've kind of gone overboard with it. I have a son, and that's enough; I want my man to be a man, not like another child I have to check after and boss around. Women often scold men like they scold their children, or give them the evil eye until they concede or start withholding stuff like sex until the get their way. Frankly (and excuse my language), this is some bulls**t. I wouldn't want a man that would let me do that. Dude, don't just throw your hands up and give in because you don't want to argue. Stand your freakin' ground. Now, don't go all to the left with it and try to be a dictator or anything like that, but you're supposed to be in this thing together.

Now I'm gonna say something else my sistas might not like but, again, oh well:

Women, it's not all about us. 

We cannot always get our way. We shouldn't always have to have the last word. You're not any less of a strong woman if you admit that you're wrong (in fact, you're more so). Your man telling you 'no' doesn't mean he doesn't love you. And even if you come with the good job-good sense-good sex package, that doesn't mean you're a prize that can't be given back. Recognize that being submissive doesn't mean being weak or inferior. Quit trying to be the 'bad bitch' and focus on being the helpmeet to your man.  

A lot of people regale low self-esteem to being a women's problem but please believe, men suffer from it, too. And especially if they've never had many girlfriends coming up or they don't think much of themselves, they might be so blown away that anyone wants them at all that they're willing to accept anything.

The show The Big Bang Theory is an excellent example of this. I love the show overall, but those men are so used to being bullied and walked on that they let the women around them talk to them any kind of way and get away with just about anything. Every now and then they'll put a little steel in their spine but usually, they're doormats. I can't say how many times I've screamed "Punk!" at the television screen when Leonard caved in to Penny about something or other. Or heck, when they've given in to Sheldon and his ridiculous demands. It doesn't always have to be about a woman; it can be other people in general. And yes, I recognize that not everyone has the same upbringing and examples and whatnot. But my original point remains: generally, men have just gotten too freakin' weak. And there is nothing hot about that. 

Or maybe you just have weak moments, as many of us do at times, and it's not necessarily the norm but it still happens way more than it should. If you find yourself giving in more than you want to because you want to keep things smooth and not ruffle any feathers or avoid an argument, I hope you recognize you're not really helping anything in the long run. Because after a while, this will be expected of you. It's like a child who constantly throws temper tantrums to get their way. You've gotta put your foot down and show them that's not gonna work. Same thing with your woman or whoever else. Heck, if arguing is what it takes, argue and get it over with. It doesn't have to drag out forever. Deal with it and move on, but don't concede simply because you don't have the strength to stand up for yourself or you're afraid of them walking out the door if you do. You deserve to be respected just like your woman does. 

*exhaling* So glad I got that off my chest...with that being said, until I tattle next time! #peaceloveandwords 


Monday, October 14, 2013

Fitness Bullies and Fitness Snobs...Not Cool

I've noticed a surprising trend since I've joined Instagram...there are a lot of people who clearly think a lot of themselves since they devote a lot of time to fitness and log a lot of gym hours, and have single-digit body fat.

There are countless fitness or fitness-related pages on Instagram. And most of the ones I've seen are pretty cool and provide good tips and motivation for those of us who aren't quite as devoted or knowledgeable about the body and how to whip it into shape.

But there are a select few who insert a lot of snide comments about anyone who doesn't have the same fanatical attitude about working out as they do. And whether this is intentional or not, I don't know.

But I wonder if they realize or if someone has ever mentioned to them how certain sayings like "Your workout is my warmup" come across.

Or how it sounds when they denounce anyone even mentioning the words 'rest day.'

I've seen someone respond to one of their followers with a comment about their body that I wonder if they would have had the nerve to say in person; it was talking about their seemingly high body fat percentage and was unnecessarily rude and childish. I've un-followed many a fitness bully/snob who has said crap like this. Anyone who doesn't live in the gym and count every calorie or macro as they do is automatically considered a lazy slacking bum who doesn't respect the temple that is their body. 

Well, let me just say this about myself...I like to work out, but it's not all I have to do. I am a single mother who works two jobs, writes books, goes to church, does massages on occasion, etc. I have more things to do than work out.

I certainly want to look good and not cringe whenever I look at my unclothed body in the mirror, but two or three-a-day workouts do not fit into my daily schedule.

Working out is maintenance for me; it is not my job. I'm not trying to be in anybody's fitness competition. And nobody is going to make me feel bad about that.

Now, if you're a personal trainer or fitness model or something like that and that's what you do, then hey, more power to you. If you choose to account for every crumb you put into your mouth and count macros (I still don't know what that is) and carry Tupperware containers of pre-prepped meals everywhere you go because you don't trust anyone to prepare things along with your strict guidelines, that's your business.

But I choose not to live like that. I like to have the occasional pizza or cheesecake or juice that's not homemade. I might go a day or two without working out, for whatever reason. And I'm fine with that. This does not make me lazy, a slacker, a bum, a couch potato, or any of the other colorful names the fitness bullies and snobs like to adorn people with. So what if I don't look like you? I don't want to. It's perfectly fine with me that I have some meat on my bones; I'm not trying to be all cut up and stuff like that. If you are, then perhaps all of that is necessary.

But even if that's what you choose to do, why do you think that gives you license to downtalk those who don't? It amazes me that people actually think they're superior because they have great bodies. That's all good and everything, but is that all you have going for yourself? Is having bulging biceps and firm glutes and flat abs your biggest accomplishment? Hmm.

So anyway...if you happen to be one of these people that like to belittle those who don't share your love for fitness and nutrition, you might need to check yourself. Just like you have the right to work out for hours a day, other people have the right not to. It's cool to try to motivate and inspire folks, because taking care of yourself certainly is important and some people need guidance, but be mindful of what you say and how you say it. That's all.

'Cause something can happen that can put you flat on your back and you won't be able to work out or control what you eat...then what?


Thursday, September 19, 2013

My Son is 10 and I'm Old

I'm ten days late with this (what a coincidence, eh?) but my son turned ten years old on the eighth of this month. I still can't really believe it. Seems like he was just born yesterday! 

So my son, whose name is Langston, told me months ago that he wanted to go to Sky Zone for his birthday and to my utter surprise, he actually stuck to that decision and didn't change his mind twelve times like he usually does. Hey, kids can be fickle. But I guess he really wanted to go there, so I didn't have a problem with it. Anybody that knows me or who follows me on Facebook knows if I don't love anything else, I LOVE my son. You only turn ten once and I wanted his to be a good one. So here is how his day went:

In the morning we went to church, before (okay, and after) which he grudgingly posed for a bunch of pictures at my request. He actually told me that I was doing to much and said, "It's not like I'm going off to college." I don't even want to think about that day...I know I'm gonna be a mess! 



So after church, I rounded up a few of his friends and cousins and we stopped by the Shell station where I let them loose to choose their own snacks (children can be so easy to please). It's almost amazing how excited they were about that. 



Then we went back to the house for a while, where they watched the Falcons and played around the house while I changed clothes and watched Food Network. 

Then, we headed to Sky Zone. I was speeding down the highway 'cause I had already bought the tickets and we would only have 90 minutes to jump, so I wanted to make sure I got all my money's worth and we live a nice little bit from the place. We got there right at our reservation time, meeting some more of our family there. We had to fill out waivers for all the kids, slapped their stickers on their chests, then let them jump and frolic and play to their little hearts' content. Oh, they had an absolute ball; jumping on the trampolines, diving into the Foam Zone, soaring through the air to dunk basketballs in the Sky Slam Court, and playing dodge ball. I was posting all kinds of stuff on Instagram that day. All of us adults just sat and roamed around and watched, taking pictures. I was kind of wishing I could get out there, but I figured us grown folks could come back for our own little play date another day. 



So next, (after hanging out in the parking lot for a while throwing a football and tripping out), we all headed to Stevie B's to pig out. (On the way the boys took turns telling Yo Mama jokes. I admit I added a couple). The boys sat at their own little table and we sat at ours, talking and watching whatever football game was on the television. And of course, they couldn't go to Stevie B's without playing in the arcade. Langston won a bunch of tickets and redeemed them for something I'm sure he probably lost an hour later, but he enjoyed it so no comment from me. 



Then, we went to Wal-Mart so Langston could pick out his birthday gift from me. I went about it this way 'cause really, I didn't know what to get him (he wanted a pair of Lebron shoes, but I already told him he could forget that). In past years it was easy; he went from Spiderman to Batman to Ben 10 to Bay Blades as far as his obsession of the year (I feel like I'm forgetting one) but he didn't have one this year. If anything he's just into sports equipment. And he loves Elite socks (and always manages to lose one of every pair he gets). So we walked around Wal-Mart for probably close to an hour and out of that whole store, he chooses a football (to add to the five or six he already has) and a laser pointer to use to mess with my mother's cat. SMH moment, but hey, it was his birthday. 

THEN, after dropping his last friend off, we stopped at our favorite local eating spot, Bubba Mac's (see my Funk Food post), where the owner was cool enough to offer him either a free wing plate or some money for his birthday. He chose the money. Big shock there. 

Then I dropped him off at his dad's. I was T-I-R-E-D and couldn't wait to get to my bed. Before he got out of the car, he hugged me and said that was the best birthday he had ever had, and he thanked me for putting it together for him and for being such an awesome mom. That made my night and also made me forget about any fatigue I had; the fact that he enjoyed his day so much was all I wanted. 

So yeah, I have a ten year old son. Before I know it, I'll blink and he'll be a teenager. Then he'll be dating (so not ready to think about that). Then he'll be graduating high school and going off to college somewhere. Time goes by so fast...my son is ten, and I'm five years from forty. *shudder*

Oh well. :)

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Sometimes You Just Need to Vent...So Here I Go

All right...I think it's been about a week or so since I've posted last. There's a lot going on, as usual. I think this current school year is about three weeks old and I'm still trying to get adjusted to this new schedule. Something always falls by the wayside, and that something is usually my workouts (which is a BIG no-no) so I'm gonna have to amp up the discipline a few notches so I can get everything done. ESPECIALLY since my son will be starting basketball this week; he's already playing football. So there goes the one evening during the week where I don't have anywhere to be.

But anyway, I decided to spend part of this beautiful Sunday afternoon blogging because I am just so over it. Over what? I'll answer you. This past week I have experienced several, incredibly frustrating instances of non-responsiveness from my "friends" and acquaintances. Folks who are always saying to hit them up anytime and call them whenever I want to talk or hang out or if I should ever need anything are amazingly nowhere to be found when there comes a time I actually take them up on one of those evidently-empty offers. And there's always an excuse; they were too busy or whatever. Hey...I'm plenty busy, too. It's not like I have time to sit and yap on the phone for hours and hours like I did when I was in high school. But I make time for the people I claim are important to me. And I don't make suggestions like 'let's talk or hang out sometime' or anything like that if I don't really mean it. Because I actually realize that if I put something like that out there, they might actually take me up on it. So if I don't mean it, I don't say it.

And let me move onto the next thing, since I'm on a roll. Now, I am a big romantic. A huge one, even. But I am so over people in love. Every time I blink there's someone else getting married or posting about their new relationship or how they're about to go on some family vacation or they're knocked up. Oh, and in case you haven't figured it out, I'm single. And have been for five years. No need in letting all my bitterness show but you can probably tell I'm not crazy about that. So while ninety-five percent of the time, I am more than happy to hear about people's happiness (okay; ninety percent), this weekend has not been one of those times. It was like everywhere I freakin' turned, there was somebody else, posing with their new boo or whatever, putting their happiness on blast and blinding me with it. It's not like I don't wish them well (deep, deep down); I just wish I didn't have to see or hear about it right now.
And what kind of goes hand in hand with that is the common and canned advice and 'encouragement' insisting that I should just be patient and my time is coming and blah blah blah. I've heard that so many times it's become disingenuous. Like it's just something people feel like they should say because it sounds good.

These melancholy musings (along with this past week just being particularly hectic) has put a halt to my progress on some things I'm working on. Straight up; every time I've sat in front of my computer and tried to write, it was like water dripping from the faucet instead of flowing. I have things to do; I don't have time to let this kind of stuff disrupt my flow. So this is only going to be temporary. I have a jar of peanut butter (Peanut Butter & Co.'s White Chocolate Wonderful; my absolute favorite), a couple of cans of Crunk Juice and my water jug here so I can keep myself fueled up as I try to make up for lost (aka wasted) time. I can't control anybody's actions but my own, so I'll just have to put my years of experience being a loner to use and suck it up.

Hey...I'm human. I get upset. I have moments. It happens.


Sunday, August 18, 2013

Yes, I'm still here...

This has been a crazy week. As you may or may not know, I have two jobs as it is. Then my son is back in school and  football practice has kicked back up so I'm getting acclimated to a new schedule, which includes me driving almost an hour each way to pick him up from his dad's house two or three times a week, and this is after I get off my night job. So needless to say, my time has been a little consumed lately. Is it too soon to wish this school year/football season was over with??

Another thing I'm dealing with is working on a project with a deadline. This is actually a first for me; anything else I've done had been dictated by me but now other people are included so I can't go on my own time clock anymore. It's both thrilling and terrifying, but I'm up to the challenge. This whole writing thing is about growth and progress, right? Well, I'm growing and progressing. I'll let you know how it all turns out, when it's all over with. Can't say much about it right now.

Let's see, what else...well, with this new schedule my workouts this past week have laxed. Okay, to be real about it, they've fallen off completely. Other than some squats and other minor stuff a week ago, I haven't worked out at all this week. Usually when I'm working from home for my day job, I work out during my lunch hour but I've either been catching a nap or working on other stuff, and on the two days I had to go into the office, by the time I finally got home after going to get my son, I barely had the energy to change clothes, let alone work out. So I'm going to have to definitely do better about that because I am not trying to derail what progress I've made. And anyway, I like to eat too much to be missing workouts.

Not too much else has been going on...I went out last night to a belated birthday dinner with my homegirl, which was nice. I enjoyed getting out of the house for once; its certainly not something I get to do very much, at least for anything social. I'm trying to plan my son's upcoming birthday party; I still can't believe he's going to be ten years old. I bet in another couple of years he's going to be taller than I am, and I'm not short. They grow up so fast...I'm gonna blink and he's gonna be introducing me to his girlfriend and asking to borrow my car. I already know I'm not gonna like her. (I'm kidding; I will). (I won't).

It's after eleven P.M. and I want to get some more writing in before I get in the bed. I have to squeeze in writing time everyday some kind of way. In an effort to increase my productivity and organization I've downloaded a to-do list app on  my phone to try to schedule my days for the things I need to get done consistently. It would probably work better if I actually inputted tasks on there...I was just proud of myself for downloading it at all. Now I have to use it...

So anyway, just wanted to drop a quick note that I was still here and everything. Just dealing with life and everything that comes with it. I'll get back to being more consistent with it soon enough. Whenever.

See you next time!

Sunday, August 4, 2013

It's My Natural Hair and I'm...Hating it Right Now

Okay, so it's after midnight, I have to get up and go to the office tomorrow, and I'm sitting up stewing over my hair. I'm not liking it very much right now at all.

My hair is natural and has been for the past five years or so. Most of the time I love it. Well, let me quit lying...most of the time, I like it a whole, whole lot. Some of the time, I love it. But this is certainly not one of those times.

A little background here; going natural was not a conscious decision for me. I didn't do a big chop (aka cutting off all the relaxed hair), nor did I purposely transition (aka growing the relaxed hair out until nothing but the natural goodness is left). My hair was relaxed but I would at times get kinky twists or braids to give myself a break. Well, I wore kinky twists for two years without getting touch-ups in between and come 2008, when I was getting ready to start a new job, I didn't have the money to get them re-done and all my relaxed hair had completely grown out. So I had a head full of natural hair that I had absolutely no clue what to do with. I remember standing in the mirror the morning I was supposed to start the job and just looking at it helplessly. I hadn't been natural since I was a child, and then, my hair was my Mama's problem, not mine. So I had no idea what I was supposed to do with my big head full of thick, coarse, dense hair. After a while I managed to pin it up into what I considered a presentable-enough style, but I felt like Vanessa Huxtable from The Cosby Show when she had that boxy afro thing (think about the episode where she thinks her boyfriend Roy wanted to break up with her). Except she probably liked hers like that; I hated mine.

Over time I've gotten better at how to deal with my hair, though I admit it's only been in the last year or so that I really started trying to learn how to take care of it. And it's evident in the growth, or lack thereof; it's grown since 2008 but not nearly as much as you would think it would in five freakin' years. And now that I'm actually trying, actually watching YouTube videos and reading blogs and articles and making sure I drink enough water and being mindful of the products I use and trimming my ends and all that, it seems like it's not doing me any good. My hair can be some of the most frustrating stuff in creation. There are days when I absolutely love it, so much so that I hate to mess it up at the end of the day. Like when I have the perfect afro puff.


But then...there are the days when I want to just cut it all off and start over. It is some of the most uncooperative strings of protein I've ever had to deal with. My bathroom looks like a small section of the natural hair aisle at Walgreens because I've been trying so many different things; I even joined a natural hair group and went to a product swap so I wouldn't keep spending money on more products but would hopefully come across what works best for my hair. No such luck.


My hair literally just soaks up whatever I put in it, so it often looks and feels dry. And I drink plenty of water and watch what I eat (well, most of the time). My ends often look scraggly. I can never really think of what to do with it; I have a very limited repertoire of hairstyles. As creative as I am when it comes to writing books, none of that translates to hair styling (probably a good thing I didn't continue with my cosmetology career, huh? Though natural hair wasn't nearly as big back then as it is now). Just about every time I try something new, it never works and I end up going back to my fallback afro-puff. But my biggest issue with my hair is, it just seems like it WON'T FREAKIN' GROW! (Or it just seems like it isn't). This can be incredibly, incredibly frustrating to someone who actually wants their hair to get longer.

So...back to why I'm so frustrated on this particular evening. I had wanted some more kinky twists last week but wasn't able to get them. I had been watching several YT videos on doing your own twists and figured, hey, this doesn't look so difficult...I have four packs of hair in my trunk...I'll try it! If I manage to pull it off, it will save me a ton of money 'cause I'll be able to put them in whenever I want to and it'll only cost me about twenty bucks (as opposed to the hundred that I usually pay). Well, I wanted to wash and deep condition my hair first, but that got scratched when it was after nine by the time I finished working out and cooking dinner. So I opted to just blow it out first instead, which is something I never do. Not good. Then I began trying to practice the technique I had seen on the multiple videos I had watched. I managed to get one twist done, though I had to redo it 'cause half of it looked like crap. I tried it again a couple more times and then threw the hair down in frustration. I didn't expect to get it perfectly right on the first try, but I figured my cosmetology background would kick in and I'd get the hang of it after a couple of tries. Well, I didn't. I ended up just putting it in four big two-strand twists and banding it, like I usually do. Ho-hum.

Sooo....there it is. I hate my hair right now. And I felt the need to sit up for an hour blogging about it.

I'm going to bed. Here's to a good hair day tomorrow.


Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Funk Food Addiction...Guilty

Hi. My name is Jessica and I am addicted to funk food.



(Okay, maybe addicted is a little strong a word but grant me that bit of hyperbole here, okay?).

What the heck is funk food, you ask? No, it's not food that smells bad or anything like that (who would like that??). It's an equal love of fast food and junk food. And I know we're in this era of weight/calorie/health/fat/sugar-consciousness where there's seemingly something wrong with just about everything you can put in your mouth, but that doesn't stop me from loving things like McDonald's french fries and Twix candy bars and honeybuns, pizza with pepperoni, sausage, and bacon on it, and just about any kind of cheesecake. And I also know that there are plenty of people who make it their mission to create healthier and supposedly equally-as-tasty alternatives to this, but I'm sorry, burgers made out of beans and rice and that fake bacon are just not good to me. Some stuff just can't be substituted, in my opinion.

Now don't get me wrong; I love the good stuff, too. I am a nut for asparagus and mangoes and broccoli and quinoa and all that stuff...I can go days without eating meat if I want to and I drink water 98% of the time. I prefer it. The hardest thing I drink is Crunk Juice (an energy drink); I don't drink alcohol and soda is a once-in-a-blue-moon kind of thing for me. Really, I love seafood the most. So it's not like I have totally terrible eating habits. But no matter how good I am about what I put in my body-temple, that funk food craving or desire never quite goes away. It might go on vacation for a while, and I don't even desire it, but when I do, I go at it HARD. When I'm PMS'ing I usually don't care anything about any vegetables or fruits or anything like that...give me some Popeye's chicken or McDonald's nuggets and fries (with no salt; I hate salt) or some Little Debbie Nutty Bars or Zebra Cakes and keep 'em comin'. During that time, I just don't care. Or when I'm low on cash, I'll succumb to the temptation of the fast and the dollar menu, too. Eating 'clean' ain't cheap.



Lemme give you an example of when I most recently fell off the wagon with the funk food. A couple of months ago I had foot surgery and was on crutches for a month, so of course, I couldn't work out or even walk at all. Just before that, I had discovered and fallen in love with this place down the street from the house called Bubba Mac's. They have stuff like cheesesteaks, burgers, wings, etc. The first time I went, I had the Ultimate Burger, which has bacon, cheese (which I am not a lover of most of the time), mushrooms, onions, lettuce, tomato, pickles (which I omitted), ketchup (omitted), mayo (very, very light, I requested), and mustard. I think that's all that was on there. And let me tell you, it was AWESOME and awesome some more. I don't remember when I've had a burger so good! And I have a weakness for french fries; it's just hard for me not to order french fries. How 'bout I ended up going up in there every day for just shy of a month?? Literally one day short of a month, I went everyday. I didn't get the same thing every time; I rotated between the Ultimate Burger, the Chicken Philly, the Philly Burger, and the Shrimp Stir Fry (with no cheese). And they also have deliciously-sweet lemonade and oftentimes cake, too, which I indulged in more times than I care to acknowledge. And because I had quickly become a regular and had also sent a good amount of business their way by shouting them out on Facebook so much and by word of mouth, they would often throw in a few wings or some onion rings or something, which, of course, I didn't refuse. So needless to say, my inability to walk or exercise coupled with eating that kind of stuff on a daily basis netted me about a ten pound weight gain, which I am currently whittling off now that I'm back on my feet. I've restricted myself to only going to Bubba Mac's on the weekends, and sometimes just one day out of the weekend instead of both (or all three, if you count Friday). Bubba Mac was my pusher and I was the willing addict. Now I'm trying to wean myself off and lemme tell you, it ain't easy.

I just love to eat. I'm not a glutton, but I love food. You won't see me going to a restaurant and ordering salad. And to me, a meal just is not complete without dessert. And while I love fruit, I do not consider that dessert. There are times I want something sweet like some brownies or cookies or some kind of pastry and want to throw something when there aren't any in the house. Since I've joined Instagram I've seen a lot of healthy dessert options that actually look pretty good, but the only thing that turns me off about them is I have to go and find all these special ingredients, like wheat germ and date sugar and gluten-free this and xanthum gum...ugh. I've never even heard of most of that stuff. It just makes me want to throw my hands up and make a late-night Snickers ice cream run.





But...*sigh* I do know that I won't get my thick and sexy physique back (the way I want it, anyway) if I don't learn to let go of this funk food love I have. All things in moderation, though portion control has always been an issue for me. Either my eyes are bigger than my stomach or I just want more than the little baby portion that is recommended. What am I gonna do with a little kiddie order of fries?? But anyway. I'll get there.

In the meantime, thank you for listening. I do declare, I will get this funk food semi-addiction under control! Right now, though, I have a zucchini nut muffin here that needs some attention.