Saturday, July 4, 2015

That Coke Has TWENTY Triglycerides

Okay, again on the topic of weight.  A friend of mine (not skinny, but definitely not fat) who lives in a small "city" nearby was at breakfast with her hubby in a local diner when she overheard a couple of yokels, who were none too skinny themselves, loudly ranting between themselves about how horrible fat people are. Apparently they combined their single-digit IQ's and determined that all overweight people are fat because they WANT to be fat.

These geniuses supported their case by discussing a neighbor who was "so fat she had to use a wheelchair." They then went on to talk about how her garbage contained many Coke bottles.What scintillating lives these two must have that they feel the need to critique the contents of their neighbors' garbage.

The culmination of their dual diatribe came when one of the geniuses commented that he knew that "Every one of those bottles of coke has 20 triglycerides!"   My friend was so stunned by this "revelation" that she didn't laugh out loud, slap them, or tell them off.

I guess we know which end of the gene pool they come from, don't we?

Sweet, Sweet Revenge

In my last blog entry I talked about Madame Snarky, who has all the tact of a bull moose, and her comments about my weight.  Well, I got a bit of revenge yesterday.  We went to the pool again and she was there.  She didn't say anything about my weight, but she and some others got off on the topic of religion.  Those who know me well know that I usually avoid theological discussions with unreasonable people, which includes most of the religious people I know. In fact, I only discuss religion with some people for the express purpose of pissing them off.

In the midst of the religion discussion, MS revealed that he is Jehovah's Witness or, as D says, Jehovah's Witless, which seems more apt to me. She then promptly started telling us all that HER beliefs were right and everyone else was inherently wrong. At one point I put my hand up and told her directly not to preach at me.  She continued and, trying to be tactful and not wanting to ruin my own good mood, I immediately removed myself from the discussion while she was telling Linda (a devout Christian) how wrong her beliefs were.

When I rejoined the group a few minutes late I was pressed give my religious views.  You should have seen the look on MS's face when I looked her in the eye and told her I am an atheist. It was PRICELESS!  I might as well have grown horns, hooves, and a tail.  At least she distanced herself somewhat from me after that.

I wonder how long it will take her to try to get me kicked out of the gym because I'm a bad person.

Friday, June 26, 2015

I get it! I'm FAT!

Okay.  SOME people obviously weren't  taught good manners as children.... Or they have forgotten them.

As those who know me in person are aware, I'm "fluffy" at best.  In fact, some days I feel I border on Gabriel Iglesias' definition of  "DAMN!"

I have been going to a gym to exercise in the pool for well over a year. Since I don't swim as such -- my attempts would be more aptly described as creative drowning -- I do, generally stay moving while we are there, usually an hour or so. at a time. It's not much, but at least it's something. I refuse to use the evil machines in the gym part because I've never met one that didn't cause my knee or back pain to get worse, so I don't expect to lose much, if any, weight.  I;m just trying to stay as mobile as I possibly can..I usually don't feel too bad about my weight when I'm there because many of the others who use the pool are there for the same reason.

Unfortunately there's usually one person in any group  with no tact whatsoever. I've met more than one in my visits to the pool.

First there was the man who always wanted to chat but apparently didn't like ANYONE, especially overweight women.  I called him Grumpy.

Next was a man who, decided to tell me, without me asking for his input, that, if I would just do as he said I could "lose all that weight."  No, he wasn't a trainer at the gym.  He was just some random man who thought that, as a woman, I should be happy to be offered his male guidance.

The pièce de résistance, however, is a woman whose tact switch seems to be permanently shut off -- maybe even congenitally missing.  Over the weeks she has made several comments to me that were snarky, at best. Generally she feels it necessary to point out to me that I am overweight, as if I had no idea. In the past I've tried to just laugh it off, even though I was upset.

Today, however, Madame Snarky (MS) surpassed herself.   Four of us were discussing the difficulties of finding swimsuits that fit and in which we are comfortable.  While Linda was talking to someone else, MS asked, "Why don't you just go to a fat farm?"  Because of my issues with confrontations and the sheer shock, I simply responded that I couldn't afford it. I told Linda about it and, not 5 minutes later, in front of Linda, MS  started telling me I needed to be moving faster.  Linda told her outright that she needed to stop being so rude.

Linda also reported her behavior to the front desk.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Ya Gotta Love a Two Year Old

I'd never met a two year old with impeccable manners before until my youngest son's youngest son hit two. When I show up at his house he guides me to "my" place, urges me to sit down, and makes sure the footrest of the recliner is up and I am resting comfortably. Also, when he gets a snack such as crackers he insists on sharing them with the other children in the house and, often, the adults as well.

The rest of the time, however, I wonder when this little pistol of a two year old replaced my angelic little darling. He expects to get his way in all things, especially when it comes to food  when he has it, which is anytime he is awake. ,xxxx, zzzzz,, xxszxx, z,\*"*¾s. (That was a message from the young man himself. He got to my tablet while I was away from it for a few seconds.) He's the only child I've ever met who wake up thin and is chunky when he goes to bed.

He's also a master builder and climber. If something he wants is out of reach, he will devise a way to get to it.  I've seen him climb the refrigerator shelves and use chairs of different heights, rambling from a child's chair to a barstool to build stairs so he could reach the cabinet where the snacks are kept.

I figure by the time he's fine he'll be rebuilding computers and retiring the house.