Happy birthday, Jane!!!
Thanks, all of you, for helping me figure out just who this picture of Gus reminds me of.
As it turns out, it’s this picture of Jim Morrison that I was thinking of.
But there are other 70s stars who fit the bill quite nicely, too.
Peter Frampton.
Barry Gibb.
Leif Garrett.
Linda Ronstadt.
Billy Joel (creepy eyes, huh?).
And Rex Smith. (OH how I loved Sooner or Later!)
Also, Shaun Cassidy, Deborah Harry, and Diana Ross!
Give Gus a little satin jacket, and he would have been at home in the 70s, no?
Fred’s been working long hours lately, getting ready for a presentation that’ll be taking place sometime today. Friday night he didn’t get home until almost 10:00 – after going in to work at 5:30 that morning. I’m a work widow!
I’m not complaining, though. The difference in his attitude when he comes home from work now, as compared to how it was when he came home from his old job – the one he lost in the Spring – is just night and day. He’s in a good mood, he’s happy, he loves the work he’s doing, he likes the people he’s working with. And the people at his job realize just how good he is at what he does, and they appreciate it, which is always nice.
Have I mentioned that I like to live dangerously? I do. Remember how I was all hand-wringing about the hormone replacement therapy I was on, and how I’d packed on like 5 pounds and it was driving me nuts?
I took myself off the estrogen patches and progesterone cream. I just said “What if I just stop it with this shit?”, and before I left for Maine at the beginning of July, I took myself off everything and then… nothing. I’m fine. I haven’t gained weight or lost weight –
Well. The truth is that I did lose a little weight. When I got back from Maine and weighed myself, I had lost three pounds. I truly don’t get how on god’s green earth I lose weight when I go on vacation. Anyone who was around me while I was in Maine could attest to the fact that I ate like a linebacker the entire time I was there (whoopie pies! breakfast out! these fucking awesome things called cranberry bog frogs that I picked up at LL Bean and I am not kidding you when I tell you that I must have crammed 30 of them down my throat in about two days. I ate so much lobster there was probably a lobster shortage throughout the Northeast – and I know you’re going to say “Oh Robyn, lobster isn’t very high fat or calorie!”, which is true, but are you aware that you dip lobster in butter? Oh yes you do. Also, some of that lobster was mixed with mayo and served atop a roll).
You might try to tell me that perhaps I was more active while I was in Maine, but not really. I did plenty of sitting on my ass, floating in the pool, and sitting and shooting the shit with my family. In fact, this was probably the least active vacation to Maine I’ve had in a while, due to the heat and humidity while I was there.
I am not – PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS – complaining about losing a few pounds while I was on vacation, and those three pounds are back, of course. I just wish I had some idea of how it is that this happens, the weight loss despite all the eating. When I go visit Nance, I always lose a few pounds too, and the two of us pretty much set up Hershey’s IVs and don’t move much, unless you count our flapping jaws.
But anyway, my point: I feel fine despite having taken myself off the estrogen and progesterone. A couple of times a day, I tend to have a few minutes where I get really really warm – there’s a flush of warmth that starts in my upper abdomen and moves up to my face, and I sweat. It only lasts for two or three minutes and then goes away. It’s nothing like the classic hot flash I’ve always heard about – remember Samantha on Sex and the City, having a hot flash with sweat pouring down her body? – so I hesitate to call it that. A “fleeting warm surge”, perhaps? It’s a little unpleasant, but I turn on the ceiling fan and I’m fine.
Every now and then I check with Fred – “How am I doing? Have I been acting particularly irritable or angry lately?” – and he makes some smartass comment (SHOCKING), but so far I seem to be doing fine.
I’m aware that what works for me now might not continue to work for me down the road, but I’ve got the estrogen patches if I decide I need them, and I’ve got the progesterone cream if I decide I need THAT, so we’ll see.
It’s been five months since the hysterectomy and so far I’m giving it two thumbs up. I’ve tossed my pads and my Diva Cup and don’t miss either of them!
I wish I could get a good picture that shows the truly gorgeous color of Moxie’s eyes.
I don’t know what Martin was smelling on the rug, but it made him go ::FLOOF::, and he stayed that way for a good long time.
Melodie, hanging out in the cat bed on the floor instead of fleeing to the cat tree! Yay!
Poor long-suffering Moxie. All she wants to do is hang out and be petted, and that little brat Martin keeps picking fights with her.
Melodie got tired of Martin’s sass, and fled to the cat tree. Boo!
I truly can’t stand how gorgeous Corbett is.
Rhyme’s all “Come give us a kiss, darling.” That or “Come here and let me bite your face off!”
Joe in the Joe cave, Reacher doing god knows what, and Jake and Rhyme about to get into a fight (or a snuggle, hard to tell).
The fact that Elwood and Reacher are hanging out atop the bookcase in the front room – Stinkerbelle’s spot! – helps explain why it is…
..that Stinkerbelle is suddenly spending so much time in the computer room.
Her deep and consuming love for Tommy probably has something to do with it, too.
Previously
2009: I assumed wrong.
2008: No entry.
2007: Questions answered.
2006: I’m sorry, but my Aunt Fanny am I a size 40C.
2005: I suspect people as beautiful as Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have to be a little bit nuts, anyway.
2004: WONDERFUL.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: A Day in the Life of a Bitchypoo.
2000: Maine recap.