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Second Journal - Saturday Evening - March 8th. I’m vegging in the recliner with Mushy after enjoying a bowl of homemade chili with black beans and sipping a cup of ‘carrot cake’ coffee from World Market. Yum squared. The bag was ordered as a gift for Grace but she stiffed me on the Garden Show today last minute, claiming ‘sore throat’... so… no gift for you, kiddo. Sorry.
I’d like to say that’s the worst thing I’ve done all day but I’d be lying. I put extra cayenne in the chili just to make sure it was so spicy that Blondie wouldn’t repeat her ‘food leech-a-thon’ of last night where she stood in the pantry eyeing the shelves suggesting I ‘give her this food I’m not eating.’ You gotta laugh, right?
My body must be going thru one heck of a hormonal surge because I’ve been swinging between whimsical and witchy all day.
Whimsy included stopping at a bakery and actually going inside and sitting down all alone to enjoy a ham and cheese scone with a cappuccino while completing the Saturday edition Sudoku (the hardest of the week). Several FIRSTS in that event having never been to the bakery, much less just relaxed alone and 'killed time'.First for H&C scone too.
ATF ( I see that’s caught on, LOL ) was choosing between the scone and a Danish; additionally choosing just ‘one’ instead of rationalizing ‘well, how often do you do this… live it up and splurge!’
While I’ve not yet mastered sitting and staring AT the food to consider it mindful eating I did take very small bites and think about the taste and texture. I finished the puzzle before the scone and I’m no rocket scientist so that means I ate slowly.
The Garden Show? Meh. I didn’t realize until too late our local Chamber of Commerce was behind it and … pardon me… mood swing… they suck at everything they organize. They just do. They don’t care that at least half the vendors there had NOTHING to do with gardening they only cared that they made money renting the space. I consider it ironic the icon’s (Lowes & Home Depot) weren’t present nor were any of the local nurseries. They apparently knew who was at the helm of that sinking ship. I obviously live in a bubble.
But back to whimsy, I bought a beautiful assorted succulent plant arrangement that had been potted into a hubcap as the base. Love it. I also picked up a little charm shaped like angel wings and hooked it on Cutty’s gold chain link bracelet (the one I wear now that he can no longer; he’d called this his wedding band whenever his fingers curled too tight to wear a ring). Some earrings, egyptian cotton sheets ( I wasn’t kidding about the non gardening booths) and other things.
One of the vendors was hawking ‘essential oils’ and while I DO appreciate the benefits of Aromatherapy considering the many candles and warmers I enjoy throughout my home I see-sawed back into witch-mode the third time she claimed ‘this oil’ is great for weight loss’ testifying she’d lost 28lbs thanks to it.
I wanted to stop her and say, ‘Hold on there a minute missy.. is that 28lbs per different oil … a total of 84lbs you’ve lost… or are you giving credit to all of these for 28lbs.. ‘ because, well, let’s face it… a big whiff of doggie-do will deter my appetite from eating if you make me rub it on my palms and sniff it just before mealtime.
Sorry, I warned you.
Then again.. as she continued to work her sales pitch but kept tossing in the ‘weight loss’ magic, I wanted to ask, so loudly that I would be heard throughout the entire closed in room, ‘Are you Saying I’m FAAAAT????’ I wanted my question to ECHO and rattle the walls.
I mean, if *I* am the elephant in the room, by golly, hear me roar. Or trumpet. Or whatever you call that sound elephant’s make. Regardless, my call of the wild would forever frighten the rest of the herd from visiting her snake oil pit.
Label me the Endora of the marketing world but I cannot help but think how many zillions of businesses would FAIL tomorrow if we could just accept and love ourselves the way we are and stop supporting the Magic Bean Industry.
Sure, there’s a healthy weight range, a decent balance of hygiene, and a moderate need for grooming but can you imagine if we all just said ‘Enough with the bashing of our self confidence all in the sake of sales!'
If you think about it there are zillions of self help books, cd's, seminars, shrinks, counselors, life coaches and more. All marketed to help restore the very ego's advertising destroys.
And if they ALL worked? Well, both sides of the fence would fail. The cynic in me wonders if they all meet in an undisclosed convention monthly to discuss the latest 'insecurity' and how to simultaneously feed AND claim to cure it. If we didn't believe in one, we'd not need the other. We’d all just show up here on FS and support each other with love and kindness and get about our days in peace.
If we all ever get a ‘self actualization’ group going we’ll kill the Dow Jones in a day and bring the NYSE to it’s knees.
ATF at the show? The ‘lunch menu’ included HOT DOGS! Seriously? I had just journaled my disdain of that entree and there it was in my face. No thank you.
I think the final straw that broke me was the aloe vera product booth. When the woman went in for her kill spiel hawking her ‘facial product that would turn back the clock on my face’ I had to call ‘foul’. I just couldn’t take anymore subtle insults.
Imagine Julia Sugerbaker from Designing Women when I said, “Darlin’, if it’s all the same to you … I LIKE looking my age. If I were to look any younger folks would have higher expectations of me….” She wasn’t thrilled at all with me being so comfortable with my ‘laugh lines’ but the guy behind me cracked up laughing. Oops.
Less than two hours there I was so worn down by the carnie’s I needed a break. I wasn’t hungry for lunch yet so I drove up the street to get a simple manicure where I discovered ‘Walk In’s’ weren’t really ‘Welcome’ at all despite the illuminated sign.
Thirty minutes after signing in and watching two of the techs play on their phones and ignore me as they walked by, I stood, tossed the Good Housekeeping magazine from December 2012 on the chair and announced to no one in particular ‘well, a half hour is my limit for being ignored at a Nail Salon, you folks have a good day!’ and turned to exit.
NOW, of course, the tech at the first booth FINALLY acknowledges me and immediately sat me at one of the empty bays. So I’ll remember that next time but will lower my wait limit to 15 minutes instead. And I'm sure if I ever return they'll remember me based on the horrid meager tip I left.
After that poor public display I decided to come home and spare the rest of the world the wrath of my mood swings. So I sorted out my days haul of 'treasures' while the chili simmered.
Take care, kiddies… ::: she cackles ::::
Bella Levau (ala Marie Leveau … eh, do your own internet search … LOL)
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