Friday, June 6, 2008

Lard Ass

Well ass might not be the right word. Gut might be more accurate, gut and thighs. I blame my weight gains on "drug weight." Having lived my late adult life on bipolar drugs, I have become accustomed to the ups and down of drug weight. For a long season last year at this time I was taken off antidepressants--my moods stabilized by a mood stabilizer. I lost forty pounds fairly rapidly. Antidepressants are notorious for weight gain and is one of the reasons it is difficult keep women on them. I have come to the conclusion that I'd rather be a little fat and happy than bone thin and depressed. I did well for a long time just mood stabilized. But then came the inevitable symptoms of depression creeping in on tiny cats paws. Irritability is the first clue. The inability to sleep is another--either that or sleeping all the time.

My young friend Melea, comes to visit three or four times a week. So she notices the things I eat. Lately for breakfast I've been having corn bread and cantaloupe--it's fetish eating, I know, but healthy, I thought. The corn bread comforts the Texas girl in me, and the cantaloupe is fruit for god's sake. I heat my rather large slice of corn bread for a few seconds, then slather it with butter which melts nicely on the warm, fragrant corn bread, and then fill the rest of the plate with cantaloupe pieces--enough so that each bite of corn bread is followed by the cool sweet taste of cantaloupe.

So last time Melea was here, I was bitching about the weigh-in at the doctor's office--146 lbs. Ack! 120 is my ideal weight, 130 isn't bad, but 146 is fat. I'm shrinking from my models height of 5'8"--probably down to 5'6 1/2". So the 146 doesn't look the same on me as it would have when I was taller. The main problem is that last years clothes do not fit. Fortunately I keep a pair of fat jeans for just this sort of occasion. So while Melea listened to me bitch about my gut, she got one of my little boxes of Jiffy Corn Bread Mix out of my cupboard and read the ingredients. Lard was the third ingredient. And I must say, coming from Texas where good cooks know the value of lard, I wasn't horrified like Melea was. She is just a boneless, skinless grilled chicken breast short of vegetarianism. She doesn't make pie pastry, or pastry of any kind. But I know that pie pastry is best made with lard, not butter, though butter is an OK
substitute.

Then there is the lack of real exercise. Yeah, I take my old dog for a walk or two a day, but these are not long walks--designed more to keep joints working than walk-off fat. And then I sit at my computer reading blogs and news papers, waiting for the major news shows to start. Usually this would be the season I'd be obsessed with my garden, but it's been cold and rainy. And since I got Cyrus, I've noticed that he hates the vacuum cleaner--giving me just the excuse I need not to vacuum clean. Then yesterday I had to get together some papers for the financial aid folks at Intermountain Health Care Hospital billing department. I have a big filing cabinet, and finding things isn't all that hard, but once I pull stuff out of files, they tend to get pilled up on one surface or another, not to get filed again until some cleaning frenzy forces me to get organized again. Well today's the day. First I'll have my warm buttery cornbread with it's compliment of ice cold, peeled. bite sized cantaloupe, then I'll get my lard ass in gear and clean this place. And if I have any time left over, I'm going to the thrift store to buy a new spring wardrobe, sized 12 probably.

32 comments:

Dusty said...

Aw come one...at our age who the fuck looks good besides the bitches with lots of money and the doctor that lifts their face on speed dial?

I have been recently certified as crazy and she is gonna put ME on 'those meds'..fuck. Now I know what I got to look forward to Utah..thanks! ;p

Utah Savage said...

It's the really interesting women who get diagnosed as "crazy," if your idea of interesting is: hot tempered, fast driving, gun or other weapon wielding, foul- mouthed, intellectual women. Plusses and minuses. Enjoy your drug weight. And if you want to talk about this process, email me, I'm an expert.

Stella said...

If you're BP or depressed, meds can save your sanity and your life, like insulin to diabetics.

OK, so 120 may be an ideal weight at 20, but not after 50 unless you're about 4'10". I'd love to see a pemanent link to your article about accepting ourselves as we are.

I'd rather be large and in charge than bipolar, depressed or stupid and unable to think clearly because I'm starving myself.
***
Stella's Birth-Day
MARCH 13, 1718-19

Stella this day is thirty-four,
(We shan't dispute a year or more:)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled
Since first I saw thee at sixteen,
The brightest virgin on the green;
So little is thy form declined;
Made up so largely in thy mind.

O, would it please the gods to split
Thy beauty, size, and years, and wit!
No age could furnish out a pair
Of nymphs so graceful, wise, and fair;
With half the lustre of your eyes,
With half your wit, your years, and size.
And then, before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle fate,
(That either nymph might have her swain,)
To split my worship too in twain.

Utah Savage said...

Bless you for your grace and wit and amazing literary references. Stella puts it all in perspective.

Dusty said...

I like the way you think Stella..thanks cher'. ;)

Stella said...

Jonathan Swift, my evil muse, wrote this poem. My kindest thanks to you both. Whenever I have a sec to blog, Utah's my first stop.

I'm am so done with this desire of women to become lollipops (skinny, big head, no curves). It hurts me to hear wonderful women make ugly comments about themselves.

Here's another long post (sorry Utah). "Video" by India.Arie—one of the most empowering songs I've ever heard. She's wonderful.
***
Sometimes I shave my legs and sometimes I don't
Sometimes I comb my hair and sometimes I won't
Depend on how the wind blows I might even paint my toes
It really just depends on whatever feels good in my soul

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I Learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be India Arie

When I look in the mirror the only one there is me
Every freckle on my face is where it's supposed to be
And I know our creator didn't make no mistakes on me
My feet, my thighs, my lips, my eyes I'm lovin' what I see

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I Learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be India Arie

Am I less of a lady If I don't wear pantyhose?
My mama said a lady ain't what she wears but, what she knows
But, I've drawn a conclusion, it's all an illusion confusion's the name of the game
A misconception, a vast deception
Something's gotta change

Don't be offended this is all my opinion
ain't nothing that I'm sayin law
This is a true confession of a life learned lesson I was sen there to share with y'all
So get in where you fit in go on and shine
Free your mind, now's the time
Put your salt on the shelf
Go on and love yourself
'Cause everything's gonna be all right

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I Learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be India Arie

Keep your fancy drinks and your expensive minks
I don't need that to have a good time
Keep your expensive car and your Caviar
All I need is my guitar
Keep your Crystal and your pistol
I'd rather have a pretty piece of Crystal
Don't need your silicone, I prefer my own
What God gave me is just fine

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I Learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be India Arie
***
Alas, back to work...

Randal Graves said...

No one is their ideal weight. If the choice is between eating delicious corn bread - man, I haven't had that in awhile; I'm coming over to steal some - and striving for weight loss through consumption of bean sprouts or whatever one is supposed to chow down on, eat the corn bread.

Utah Savage said...

Randal, where ever I roam in the blogosphere, if you got there first, I just say, "What Randal said." Next to George Clooney, and Keith Olbermann, you and The Unconventional Conventionist are my heart throbs. Probably it's my heart throbbing for you guys that has restored my rhythm.

Stella said...

Yes! Randal! By the way, what is an "ideal" weight? I'm "supposed" to weigh about 130-135: I looked old and anorexic at that weight.

Utah, will you please pass the cornbread?

Unconventional Conventionist said...

Corn bread never killed anybody. It's the flipping STRESS that does it.

Plus I happen to believe that if you take your time and really savor what you are eating that your body and mind both appreciate it much more and it's prone to harm you less.

Never feed; dine!

Utah Savage said...

I's odd how having been a hungry child effects one's attitude toward food. I do go on food fetishes. I use that word because my appetite wants only that food and no other. It must have cornbread. Not only cornbread, but warm cornbread dripping melted butter, accompanied by cold sweet cantaloupe, not honeydew. No that craving will come later. Or it might be a very specific omelet, or lamb chops and mashed potatoes. Sometimes my tastes outstrip my wallet.

But my dear sexy Mr. Unconventional, I devour food. I feed. I act as though I grew up in a house with twelve near starving kids fighting over a chicken thigh, or the last tablespoon of mashed potato. I eat alone and moan over the deliciousness of the food I eat. I had a female room mate for a very brief time who said the fact that I made sexual noises at the dinner table made it impossible for her to live with me.

Dusty said...

lol! I feed too. I have had someone tell me, Honey, no one is going to take that away from you, slow down.

I was the eldest of five. Seconds were a premium, and I think that is when I started eating like it was a contest. ;p

Will "take no prisoners" Hart said...

Sounds like you're at least avoiding that dreaded pear shape. It could be worse, I'm saying!!

Utah Savage said...

I once had a job waitressing in a very nice restaurant and despite the fact that they did provide us with a meal, I have eaten rare prime rib, or lobster off the plate of some picky dame when she was trying to act dainty and didn't want to look like a normal human by eating in front of her date. I would stand over the garbage can and cram lobster tail dripping butter into my mouth. I was not the only one. It turned out to be a pretty common practice.

Dusty said...

Hey, I waitressed in a sports bar in Ocean Beach CA..and beleive me..I have been known to put back a plate when folks didn't like the meal or didn't touch it for some reason.

Fuck it..it was good food and if you swap spit when kissing someone..wtf is the difference here? I ask you? ;p

Dr. Zaius said...

I use an all chocolate cake diet to lose weight. It doesn't seem to work very well, but who cares? I get to eat chocolate cake!

Scarlet W. Blue said...

I've been cleaning all day. I've also been eating quesadillas for lunch and must stop that immediately. It's starting to show.

Utah Savage said...

So says the lovely size 6 Mz Blue

Distributorcap said...

thank god i dont like corn bread.......

after obsession with keeping the presidential circus alive -- the onlhy other thing the media likes are skinny skinny women

it is always the media

fairlane said...

There's a wonderful cure for depression, albeit an expensive one, moving to Italy.

enigma4ever said...

well....Cornbread...omg...my favorite thing in the world....( I will post my cornbread reciepe tonight at Watergate...as a gift to you...) about the lard...my granma used to say " well, considering we don't really know what it is....it can't be that bad"....( works for me;-)

About the weight...well, here's the thing- there is this gravity thing- it pulls you to the earth-and also weight....I mean it seriously when one gains weight- it never goes someplace flattering- like to ones breasts...sigh...You probally look fine...it just doesn't feel fine...12 is fine- you know that right??

and about the meds, hey you gotta do what keeps you intact....and damnit to be honest I think the Cornbread and the Cantalope are pretty medicinal...

Have a good day..and give that beautiful Cyrus a hug .....( I agree with him about vacuming :-)

Randal Graves said...

UC has stumbled onto something strange. What is this 'dining' you speak of? Are we not to inhale our food?

stella, that ideal thing is nuts. I remember when our youngest was not in the 'standard' percentile of weight when she was a baby. The doc was paranoid about it. She's nearly 10 and healthy. So they start you on that crap from day one.

Stella said...

Yes, randal. I mean, what the hell is ideal anyway?

Freida Bee said...

U. Savage- I, incidentally, have lost ten pounds in the six weeks I've been on anti-depressants. A lot of times I was anxious, and I was thinking I was having low blood sugar or something, but since my anxiety is reduced I do not feel uncomfortable at all to skimp on food. And you better watch out what you call fat pants, lady. I am your same height and 12 is good for me. In fact, like Stella said, I looked anorexic at 130, at the peak of hyperthyroidism I was probably a size 10. I'm a strong lass, though.

Blueberry said...

I have gone through the weight gain from anti-depressants. The doctor didn't even tell me it would happen! {scumbag} I quit taking them and dieted to lose weight -- stayed a nice size 8 for 4 years (perfect for me), then stress, stomach and sleep disorders have piled most of it back on in the past year and I am now at least a 12.

Lucky for me I am not bi-polar or something that really requires meds, except that I need my Xanax for panic and headaches. Xanax hasn't caused any weight problems.

Giving up lard won't help me. I am a vegetarian for crissakes. Gave it up years ago. There are cornbread mixes that don't have lard in them, and they taste just fine. I need to eat less and sleep more. duh. Exercise has not been my friend. Dieting works better for me.

Anita said...

that's odd. anti-depressants have severely tamped down my appetite. maybe each has a different effect, i don't know.

Utah Savage said...

Zoloft tams down my appetite, but propels me toward mania fairly fast. It really does depend on the drug, and in my case drugs. bipolar disorder does require a cocktail of drugs to keep it manageable. Then there are the three new drugs for the heart rhythm problem. Then the staph infection in my bird flipping finger--add antibiotics. High blood pressure since my teens require a drug. A hysterectomy in my late thirties require hormone replacement.

Gotta go, it's time to take my mid afternoon handful.

Anita said...

if you don't mind my asking, why did you have a hysterectomy in your late 30's?

seriously, if you think that's too nosy just punch me in the face.

D.K. Raed said...

Shoot, Size 12 isn't fat! I feel most comfortable in a 12 & I'm a few inches shorter than you! When I stripped for my mamogram last year, the tech said, how do you keep so skinny. Do they know how to make you perk up & lay your breasts on that vise table, or what? But I'm a baggy clothes person; check out my fence repair pics.

E said...

Eat the lard. Smile. That's the spirit!

My issue with med-related weight gain is the fact that I don't feel the joy of having "earned" the weight. Know what I mean? If I gained 10 pounds eating good food and being with friends, I'd be more zen about it. But to just have it pack on and to have received no gustatory pleasure for your trouble? That's what bums me out.

But you are so right. Fat and happy is the way to go. Cause I've been crazy-thin and crazy-unhappy. Fat and happy is better! :)

Utah Savage said...

e, I've missed you so much. I'm so glad you're out and about. And I haven't missed a lardie day in a couple of months. That's what I mean by fetishistic eating. I crave the same food over and over for damn near ever. Then one day, I'm over it.

DCup said...

I guess it's all relative. I read this and think I want to be 5'6"!!! Then I read more and think i want to weigh 146lbs! Then I read more and think I want to wear a size 12 again!

See? Relative. Nevertheless, I understand where you're coming from.