Mrs. Jones and Me

Sleep well, Ruth. Thanks for being a role mode, and a friend. I will always admire your zest for life. And that you had perky boobs into your 90's. Give Mr. Charlie a kiss for me!

It happened again

Okay, I think I can agree that I have the most beautiful daughter in the whole. wide. world. Oddly, random strangers also agree. Well, to say stranger is not entirely accurate, but acquaintance would be about right - people I might see twice a year or so. Here's the scene:

Me, strolling Anna Kathryn at the softball field at my church on Sunday evening.
Acquaintance #1 and #2, walking toward.

A#1 - Hey Kay - it's been so long since I've seen you. You had another baby? Oh, my how pretty. (and some other complimentary things)

A#2 (a man, even) - Wow, she is pretty. Look how perfect. She's the prettiest baby ever. Her little lips are so perfect on her face. She looks just like a doll.

Me: Thank you

Anna Kathryn: smiling at everyone.

This went on for several minutes - all the compliments and such.



My very good friend Susie takes the kids pictures. One of her friends tells her every time she visits the website, how pretty Anna Kathryn is.


And, don't get me wrong, she is beautiful. See?





Still, people do tend to go on. Which is nice. I wonder though, why I get so weirded out? I wonder, if because in the same sentence, they are also saying how much she looks like me..... and me and beautiful hardly belong in the same conversation, much less the same sentence.

And then I hope against hope that Anna Kathryn stays beautiful and never has to deal with the image issues I have.

Stop, Thief!

From Sunday Scribblings, Prompt #17 is "thief".


I caught a thief in 1991. I was in college - about to graduate. I was home (alone) at my apartment, and I heard glass breaking. I looked out my bedroom window just in time to see feet going through the window at my friends' apartment next door. I called their phone. Answering machine. I called again - nothing. So, I called 911. A few minutes later, cops arrived with guns drawn. I was on the phone with the dispatcher and they were radio-ing what I said to the police officers. It was pretty exciting. I knew the complete layout of the apartment - as well as the name of the doberman (Hershey) who lived there. They went in - but couldn't find anyone. Since I was glued to the window, I knew the person didn't come out of the window he went in. Nor out the front door - which I could see. There was no back door. The window on the "blind" side of the apartment was shut and locked. Someone was in hiding.

Turns out, he was behind the washing machine. He had gotten the answering machine (why it didn't pick up the 2nd time I called), the VCR (this WAS 1991, and before DVD), a stereo, and some other electronics in a garbage bag. He had managed to lock the doberman in the bedroom. But, the police arrived quickly, so he was "caught". To my shock, the kid was ELEVEN years old. Lived a few streets over. His grandmother sent him out to steal stuff. It was his FIFTEENTH arrest. Nice.

His court date was going to be on what just happened to be my first day of work at a new job in a new town. I postponed my start date and showed up to court. I was never called. I guess they pleaded him down, or something. I never did find out. I moved, and my friends moved. Never heard another thing about that kid. He's probably in a jail or dead. Poor little boy didn't really stand a chance. When his own guardian sent him out to steal.

At least he didn't get anything from my friends. And I got him off the streets, at least for a little while.

With Baggage

From Sunday Scribblings, Prompt #16 is With Baggage.




Baggage. Even just the word by itself sounds so heavy.

Heavy. That’s what my baggage is. My weight. And all the negative feelings/emotions associated with it. The comments said years and years ago that I carry around in my head and in my heart.

Like the time my Dad called me a big fat sow. I was 15, and not fat. He was just mad that I was watching TV when there was a sink full of dirty dishes. Still- Big. Fat. Sow. Yeah, baggage.

Or that time when I was about 19 or 20 and was changing clothes when Mom was in the room. And she looked at me and said something to the effect that if I would just lose a few pounds, then XYZ (my boyfriend/pseudo-fiance at the time) would really have something. Because, obviously, I was nothing on my own merit. Baggage.

Or that time the same boyfriend ate all the candy out of a Valentine’s box and replaced it with rocks because I told him I didn’t want candy. And he gave it to me as a gift. The ONLY gift. Not even a card. Nothing else, just rocks. He thought it was a joke. I cried for 3 weeks. That was especially heavy baggage.

Or maybe when I found out recently that all this time since I graduated from college (about 15 years), that my Mother was convinced that the reason a friend of mine was hired by a particular accounting firm instead of me was because she was pretty AND thin. Not because her dad was best friends with the hiring partner or anything. Or the fact that she actually interned with them over the summer. Nope, had to be because I was fat. Baggage.

When that boyfriend dumped me, he said that the new girl was “bigger” than me. Okay. Nice to know. I lost about 40 pounds then. Was pretty “hot” even. A few months later, I was assaulted. Not in a good way. So, my weight once again caused me problems. Was it my fault? Was I advertising? I don’t think so. But I put the weight back on. At least the fat would protect me. And it did – for a lot of years – it protected me from other people. But it didn’t protect me from myself. Emotional baggage.

Maybe I remember times when I was dating (my now) husband, when we would go out, he would turn his back to me. Maybe he was just rude. Or maybe it was because I was fat and he was embarrassed for his friends to see him with someone like me. He, himself, has never really minded my fat. But looking back, it did affect the way he treated me when we were around other people. Baggage.

Today, my biggest fear is that my weight will embarrass my kids. They are too young right now, but within the next year or two, my son will start school. I had him pretty late (32) so I’ll already be an “older mom”. I really don’t want to be the fat mom too.

From my high point, (not counting being pregnant) I’ve lost about 35lbs. I have about 65 or 70 to go. I’m still on Weight Watchers. I’m counting points, and going to meetings, and smiling, and laughing, and cutting up.

When on the inside, I’m dying. Under the weight of my baggage.

The Incredible Shrinking Woman

Okay - so 3.4 pounds lost is not all that incredible. But, it's a start. And all journeys start with small steps.

Less Fat

Just for the record, I have renewed my quest to be less fat. I attended my first WW meeting in about 2 months last Thursday. And I have counted all my points this week - including the cake I had for breakfast that day. We shall see what occurs on this Thursday, but I had to get back into it. I can live with a little fat, but it certainly needs to be less fat than now.

For the record, I am technically "obese". And I'm okay with the term "fat". I don't beat myself up about it, because I'm doing something to help myself. I. Am. Fat. There is actually some empowerment in being able to say that without tears. But I won't be fat forever - and that's the key! (No need to say "oh, you're not fat". Yes I am. I happen to believe that you can be fat AND beautiful - LOL! )

Hotel, Motel, Holiday Inn

From Sunday Scribblings, Prompt #15 is hotel stories.

This is a fun one. I have loved hotels all my life. I traveled for a number of years in my career, so I am used to living out of a suitcase. So many stories, so many memories.

Early Memories

The RoadRunner hotel in Houston, Texas. This is where my family would stay when we went on our annual trip to Astroworld. They had free breakfast, it was close to the park, and it was cheap. Win, Win, Win.

Memories of Solitude

The Loews Hotel in New York City. I believe it is on Park Avenue. I had a coupon for a BOGO free night. This hotel had a bed that sucked me in so far, that I barely left it for the entire weekend. I arrived on a Friday evening, ordered room service, and sank into that bed to watch movies. Which I did until late Saturday afternoon. I had a friend in the city - Ramzi - so, I met him in Central Park for awhile. We had an early dinner, and then back to the hotel I went. More room service, movies, and that BED! I went back to the city where I was working on Sunday at check out time. I adore New York. I love the pulse of the city. But on that particular weekend, in that particular hotel, I loved just being.

Travels to Foreign Lands

I have had the great fortune to visit several other countries.

Toronto, Canada - Where I went to visit my (not yet, but soon-to-be) husband for a weekend while he was working up there. The hotel (a Marriott Courtyard) was walking distance from everything cool to do while in Toronto.

London, England - I don't remember the name of this 4 star hotel (it was not a US chain), but I do remember that my Mom and I could not open our suitcases at the same time. Tiny beds, but we were never in the hotel anyway. We did have a private bathroom. It was very close to a Tube station, and also close to several pubs. Really, what more can you ask for?

Scotland - All over the country. We spent a little over a week traveling about 1000 miles by tour bus through Scotland. As compared to London, the rooms in the Scotland hotels were enormous. In one hotel, The Hotel Thistle (I can't remember the city) we even had 2 (count them. one. two.) QUEEN SIZE beds! What luxury!

Prachinburi and Bangkok, Thailand - Talk about night and day. Prachinburi is about 3 hours by car from Bangkok. I went there for work for a month in July one year. During the work week, we stayed in a "resort" that had 1 inch cracks under the doors, rock hard single beds, and air systems that did not run unless the key was in the switch. (After a week, I figured a way around this) I'm from Southern Louisiana - I NEED my AC. The men moved floors after a week. The 1 inch crack I mentioned above? Yes - it let in the critters. Again, I'm from Southern Louisiana - and we likes us some critters. ;) I stayed put. The food, if that's what you can call it, was um...."okay". I lived on peanut butter crackers and snickers bars I had the foresight to pack from home. Still, the pool was lovely, azure blue tile, warm water, it backed up to a lake with some ducks, and most nights I had it all to myself. On the weekends, we stayed in a JW Marriott in Bangkok that was superb. There was teakwood everywhere. It was fabulous. I could even catch some TV in English on occasion.

Tokyo, Japan - I had to do some work in Yamato, Japan which is about an hour by train from Toyko. We spent about 10 days at the New Otani Hotel in Toyko. 5 star. Fabulous hotel with an Irish concierge who spoke something like 10 languages. Have you ever heard Japanese with an Irish accent? Loverly. This hotel had a tremendous Japanese garden which covered about 5 acres and had koi ponds, bridges, walking trails, places to meditate. It was serene. This is the hotel where I bought my bridesmaids gifts. Porcelain egg jewel boxes with velvet interiors, that played music. I also got a massage in my room at this hotel. That was cool.

What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas

Las Vegas is my favourite American city aside from New York. I love the bright lights of the strip and all the people watching. I've been going to Vegas for more than 15 years now. I have stayed in: The Luxor (with friends), Circus Circus (with friends), Treasure Island (with friends), Paris (with David the time we brought his Mom), The Aladdin (on our Honeymoon when we got upgraded to a 1400 sq ft suite that overlooked the fountains at Bellagio and the Eiffel Tower at Paris), The Venetian (where David and I stayed the first trip we took together, he joined me for a weekend, it was his birthday, AND it was the first time we both said "I love you"), New York New York (with David the time we brought his Dad to see Simon and Garfunkel). Viva Las Vegas! I'd tell you more, but well, you know.

Roaches Check In, and Kay Checks Out

When you stay in hotels almost for a living, you will have some bad experiences. They are too many to recount and I prefer not to recall most of them. I leave you with this: I have seen roaches, I have seen ants, and I have been too frightened to take off my pants.

Two Peas in a Pod

From Sunday Scribblings, the prompt is "two peas in a pod".

Here are mine:



This picture makes my heart sing. My son looks like my husband, and my daughter looks like me. When I see them together, I see so much of the other in each one. Jake is a fantastic big brother, and Anna Kathryn (of course) adores him. My mind's caption for this picture is PURE JOY.