HAPPY DADDY'S DAY

It has been 38 years.

Some days it seems like yesterday.

No question about it. I was a daddy's girl and proud of it. I still remember the day I found out that he was sick. I remember sitting by the window in Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital nestled in his shoulder crying my eyes out. There was nothing that he could say or do that would make this any better. He had always been able to fix anything for me.

But he couldn't fix this.

It was one of life's defining moments for me when he died. The loss of my dad had such a huge impact on me. I didn't think anything or anyone could take his place in my heart. He pushed me because he knew that I needed to be pushed. He was tough and he was fair. Justice was a big part of his personality and he passed that on to me. He made me focus because he knew that I could sometimes be scattered. He was proud of me no matter what.

He sang "there she is, Miss America" when I walked in the room.

I've tried to pass those kind of memories on to my daughter. There is something special about that kind of relationship and he would have absolutely adored her. I don't have a lot of regrets about life but I do regret that he couldn't have known her. If he spoiled me that is only a small speck compared to what he would have done with her. She would have been the apple of his eye.

So, another Father's Day without him has come and with it a little piece of my heart still breaks. 

But, I am so thankful that I had a father that I could hold dear to my heart. 

I have wonderful memories that are such a part of me and that now make me smile.

Happy Father's Day Daddy.

Miss you?

Doesn't even come close...............

PASSING THE TORCH

They tried to kill us.

We won.

Let's eat.

I have so many childhood memories tied up in this time of year. My mother used to make me sit by her while she made Passover dinner for more than 40 people. She did this two nights in a row. She would explain the right way to prepare the food and how to set the table. It was truly a hands on approach. Although it made me crazy back then, I'm now very glad that she made me sit there and pay attention. During those times I gained a love of cooking that has stayed with me. Preparing the food for this holiday brings back memories of love and security and also a great amount of respect for the amount of work that she tackled with perfection.

I really don't know how she did it.

Everything was planned weeks in advance. Food was delivered and when I say food, I mean tons of it. For example, I went through 60 eggs for just one evening. I can't even imagine what she went through. I don't know how much those dinners must have cost but I know it was a bundle. The tables were set with china and beautiful stemware. She took pride in the details. Everyone loved to come to our house and they loved her cooking. 

We did that every year along with every other holiday that was out there. We had the home where everyone would gather. When my parents passed away it just never seemed the same. The family kind of scattered and the dinners faded away. When I got married we started up again and all that love of preparation that I gained by osmosis came pouring out again.

And I wanted to give that all to my daughter.

We haven't had a Passover in over ten years and that one doesn't really count. The reason I say that is my niece wanted me to prepare the food for a Seder that her church was having. It was for over a hundred people. We peeled onions, garlic and apples. Enough to fill a wheelbarrow. By the time the week was over I was a real loony tune. It took me over ten years to want to repeat the experience. Now, our dinner was for only thirty and it shouldn't have been any big deal after cooking for one hundred but I didn't have Fibromyalgia then either.

Note to self: If you try to prepare a Passover dinner with Fibromyalgia prepare to be in for a doozy of a flare.

I spent two days cooking. Normally, that would be a piece of cake (and yes, I made those too) but by the time Friday morning hit the pain was out of control. I slugged down the pain medication and kept on. I loved watching my daughter through this process. She has the same love of preparation and cooking that her grandmother had and her execution is just fabulous.

Anyway, I managed to get through the dinner without crying but by the time I got home it was ugly. Real ugly. I've been in bed ever since. The pain went from out of control to excruciating and it has remained at that level. I can't seem to get it back under control. Every bone in my body is wracked with pain. Every time I move, I want to cry. I took a hot shower and the water hitting my back hurt. I tried to make some eggs but it hurt to move the spatula. I wanted a diet coke but it hurt to lift the glass. I don't want to see anyone or talk to anyone. I just want the pain to go away.

Whine, bitch, moan and complain.

Pain brings out the real pleasant part of your personality.

But my daughter has taken the reins with the same fervor that her grandmother possessed.

The torch has been passed.

I CAN LEAP TALL BUILDINGS IN A SINGLE BOUND

I must live in the state of denial.
I still think I am Superwoman.
All I can say is, "it's been one hell of a month."

After 47 years in Las Vegas you would think that I'd be used to the heat. Nope. Not happening. Thank goodness for air-conditioning. I would go from my house to my car to my office and then back to my car and house. I hardly ever was out in the hottest part of the day. Now, the heat is playing havoc with the Fibromyalgia and combined with the humidity, well, it's been an ugly time.

Every bone in my body aches and aches and aches.

The funny thing is that my mind still seems to think that I can do whatever I want. I guess I still have illusions of grandeur that stop once I put my feet on the floor. It takes a while to shake the cobwebs out but it takes even longer to feel semi-human. Normally, I feel kind of like the tin man before he gets a shot from the oilcan.

It's interesting. Some people can't take the cold weather but I do so much better in it, unless there is humidity or a lot of wind. The other weird thing is that degrees between 32 and 50 absolutely chill me to the bone. Once it hits freezing.......I seem to be fine. That one I can't figure out. Is that the Fibromyalgia or the Hashimoto's or hypothyroidism? I have NO clue.

Does anyone else have weird body rhythms like that?

This is such a strange illness. For instance, I was supposed to meet my daughter at church. They wanted to go and, of course, I told them I'd meet them at the 9:15 service. What was I thinking? 9:15? Was I on drugs??? Well, of course I was! I knew what I was in for. I'd have to wake up at an ungodly hour just make myself look decent so my daughter wouldn't guess my pain index. I wasn't looking forward to that alarm.

Well, the kids never made it. Must be great to be young and in love. What a great reason not to be able to get out of bed. I remember those days and I miss them. Anyway, we decided to make dinner and have a nice evening together. We hit Whole Foods and made a yummy mango habanero sauce for the chicken and roasted some asparagus. We had a wonderful evening together and I realized how much I've missed her. The kids have their own lives but they really are wonderful and I truly enjoy their company.

Anyway, the minute she left I jumped into the bathtub. Jumped is probably not the right word. I don't think I could have "jumped" if my life depended on it.  I slithered like a boneless mass of jelly into the tub and stayed an hour. Then I got in bed and took the muscle relaxers and pain medication and curled up into a little ball. 


And I stayed there.
And I wanted to cry.

The point of this long story is that my mind hasn't caught up with my bodies limitations. I mean how dare my body attack me? I can do all things, can't I? I just don't want to emotionally face my physical limitations. Then I think, this is only Fibromyalgia. Why am I giving it the power to kick my fanny?

Because it can.

This isn't a joke of an illness.

It's real and it's debilitating.

Maybe it's good to live in denial.

After all, it's where I'm most comfortable.

I just don't want to knuckle under to this illness.

Excuse me...........syndrome.


I will overcome this innate inertia.


OK........I'm calm now............


And back in bed................

WHICH MOVIE AM I IN?

I feel the need,

the need for rest!!!!!!!

Top Gun...

Superman.....

Which movie am I in???

I have to tell you, basically, I'm a slug. The problem with your body when you have Fibromyalgia is that a lot of movement tends to make you feel like roadkill. Trust me, after this last weekend I'm definitely in roadkill mode. To top it all off, Saturday was hotter than holy hell and today I'm dealing with thunderstorms. 

Great, just add a tiara!

I do have to say one thing that makes it all go away.

My kids got married this weekend. I have to say it's an unreal feeling as a parent. We talk about milestones in our lives but, this one, was absolutely amazing! I really thought I was ready, I really did. 

Wrong.

I walked into the hotel and saw her and just lost it. I've never seen her more calm and more beautiful. She had a focus and a purpose and it was simple. All she wanted to do was walk down that aisle and marry the man of her dreams. The wedding was simple, elegant and intimate. 

No one came up to me and mentioned the flowers or the centerpieces. The comments were how much they loved the looks on their faces. You could absolutely see them smiling from ear to ear and they were having the time of their lives. 

Just as it should be.

By the way, they love Top Gun and he's her Superman!! That's how the title of this post came about. I just thought I should mention it before you think I'm a crazy woman! So after the wedding I am trashed. I'm staying in bed and unwinding. I'm trying to process my feelings. You know, they've been together for awhile and the two of them seem so right and natural but, somehow, the ceremony changes things. It's really an unbelievable feeling.

I've got a new son and a married daughter.

Now, I'm smiling from ear to ear.

A VIEW FROM THE REAR

Yes.

I seem to still have some perfection issues.

My daughter is getting married next week and I am so excited. Her intended is wonderful and the families have blended perfectly. It's a fairy tale story with a very happy ending. I just have a couple of concerns that make me a tad unhappy.

Why, then, am I unhappy?

I'm really not looking forward to pictures. It's bad enough my self image has taken a major hit with all the Fibromyalgia, hypothyroidism and Hashimoto's crapola going on. No matter what I do the 30 pounds will not come off. I know I harp on this subject but it really bugs me. 

The fact is that I don't want to look like a stuffed sausage in pictures.

I have a hard time reconciling the old me with the new me. I know in my head it shouldn't matter but it does. I bought a beautiful dress and I keep trying it on and looking at myself from the back. Think about it. It makes perfect sense. I'll be walking down the aisle and everyone will have a rear view.  All I need now is the beeping sound for the truck backing up. OK.........I'm not quite that bad but in my head I might as well be.

I've said it before and I 'll say it again. A dress size shouldn't define me as a person. In one sense it doesn't but in another it absolutely does. 

Anyone find the sense in that statement? 

Anyway, I've got a week to go and I'll be starving myself for the better part of it so I can, maybe, take off a pound. So here I go..........I've tried walking everyday and getting some exercise. Did it help? No.

One week until the wedding.........

No pounds down.

And counting................

TIME CAN HEAL ALL WOUNDS

It's funny how things change.

Life, Ideas and Beliefs.
You.
Time can heal all wounds.

It was Thanksgiving Day and it was going to be a long day. The pain had started early in the morning and it was hard to walk. I knew I better start the pain medication otherwise I'd be crying before I even arrived at the in-laws; or the outlaws, as we like to call ourselves.

I didn't want my daughter to be worried about me and seeing me wince in pain would definitely do that. I prayed that the medication would take effect and at least help me pull off my little charade of feeling just fine. Her dad and his wife were also going to be spending the day with us and I wanted it to be a day of joy, not one of worry. 


For so long I blamed my former husband for the events that led up to our divorce. I had a lot of anger that I kept buried deep inside. What I didn't realize is that the anger was there long before I even got married. I still don't know everything that is buried in there but he got damaged goods and neither one of us was aware of it. You can't fully love anyone else unless you love yourself first and that was my problem. I didn't know how to be open and vulnerable, well, I did but it wasn't going to happen. The added plus was that if he did see what was underneath all of that he wouldn't love what he saw. Having gone through all of that and very slowly came out of it, I wasn't sure how I felt about spending the day with them. All I did know was that my daughter wasn't going to pay for my insecurities and I was determined to smile, no matter what.


The conversation during dinner was so easy. The families were blending beautifully and I couldn't ask for anything better. Then my former husband asked me if I'd spoken with my aunt lately. 


Maybe it was all the carbs and the sugar but I had a moment of clarity. I'm not saying my ex-husband was an angel but my reactions to the issues and problems that we had were way over the top. He was surrounded by the women in my family who had their own problems in their marriages and, in this case, misery really loved company.  I have no idea if we would have worked everything out but it seemed that everyone from our pastor (and that is whole other story) to my family was actively sabotaging our marriage. The scary thing is, I allowed it, reveled in it and did my part to destroy it.


It took me a very long time to get away from the dysfunctional dynamic this side of my family possessed. It was a family that needed drama, intensity and high volume to survive. The women were strong and heaven help you if you got in their way. Well, they would just steamroller over you and that was that. I ended up with them because I had lost both of my parents and I moved in with them.  The trauma of losing both of my anchors so early in my life took a huge toll on me. I already had issues with abandonment and losing my parents cast those issues in stone. I took on the personality of my aunt as my own and even when I disagreed I couldn't open my mouth. I felt that if I did take an opposite stance I could lose another set of parents. I was locked up in a prison of my own making. 


When my aunts and cousins marriages were breaking up I was at ground zero in the middle of the perfect storm. As far as everyone was concerned, men were bad and then it turned out that my husband couldn't even breathe right. I was in an environment of malice and I couldn't stop it. I felt powerless and I went right along with all of it. It wasn't until they turned on me as well that I found out that I still had my own personal power; and, at that point, I used it. However, by the time I used it the cost was very high. I had been a loose cannon and everything was fair game. By the time the storm had stopped there was a lot of devastation in its path.


It's bittersweet to look back and think of the different paths that could have been chosen. There are ways to handle conflicts and I chose every wrong one. It took a long time for me to finally be at peace and I value that more than anything I possess. I can now look at him and, with all my heart,  thank him for the years we did have together and for our beautiful daughter. 


I can say how sorry I am, and mean it. 


I don't have to preface everything with, "if you hadn't......... then I wouldn't have....."  


I guess I've grown more than I realized.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANIELLE

This is one of my favorite posts.

For many reasons and on many different levels.

It's been thirty years in the making.

I can honestly say that there is nothing else in this life that has brought me greater joy than my daughter Danielle. I said that the first time I felt her move and I can say it again today. There truly is no greater gift in this life than your children.

I remember being in the bathtub about three weeks before she was born. All of a sudden she dropped and I could breath deeply for the first time in months. I didn't care about any of that. All I could think about was that she was getting ready to come into the world. I started thinking about so many things. I prayed she'd be healthy and I prayed that I'd be a good mother. 

I had no idea how deeply I'd fall in love and it only took an instant.

I had a C-section and as they cut me open and brought her out into this world, she was looking around the room. She always did things her own way and it started from the moment she took her first breath. At three months she started to shove my hands away so she could hold her bottle herself. She was independent and wanted to do things her way.  Nothing much has changed. Danielle was definitely not the type of child to be reined in. The only thing I could do was draw a big circle and let her move freely within it. She could make any decisions within that circle but if she took one step out her little fanny was mine and we worked well together within that framework. When a lot of children and parents were at odds, Danielle and I drew even closer together.

We moved to a new house when she was four and we built a HUGE sand area in the back yard. She had her own little house out there but it wasn't quite enough. She wanted a microwave in there so she could make her own hot dogs in her own house. She ate pyracantha berries and ran when I tried to take them out of her mouth. She walked at 8 months and ran shortly thereafter. Nothing would ever be the same again.

When asked at school what we wanted to do in outer space she replied, "I want to ride a shooting star." There she is in one simple statement. She wrote about the red dress that I wore when I went out at night and canary diamonds. I then told the teachers that I wouldn't believe anything that Danielle said about them if they would do the same in return. She wrote a report on amphibians in the first grade and found a National Enquirer that said "Woman gives birth to frogs," and used that as her research. Her teacher called me and laughed like crazy while I was cringing. She gave her an A.

Danielle has her own code and way of looking at things. She is fiercely independent and loyal. Heaven help you if you come against anyone or anything she loves. She doesn't give many second chances. She also doesn't have many shades of gray; trust, loyalty and love are the words she lives by and expects the people in her life to live by them as well. Did I mention stubborn?

I've always been immensely proud of her and, again, nothing much has changed. I may not have agreed with all her decisions but they were hers to make and the lessons learned were hers also. She has always known that whatever decision she makes, good or bad, I'll be right there beside her. 

She's met the man who will be her life partner and its a good match. It's full of fire, passion and love. They share a wonderful trait; when they give their word it's gold. He lives by the same codes and values that she does.  I have no doubt that 50 or more years will go by and they will still be together looking back on a life full of joy and yes, challenges and wonder. They will treat their love as something profound and rare; something that shouldn't be wasted. I can't wait to give her away to this wonderful man. He's not my son-in-law, he's my son and I couldn't be happier about this match. 

So thirty years has gone by since the night that I gave birth to her. It was the most wonderful night of my life and it has been such a joy to watch her grow into the lovely, giving and gracious woman she's become. I can only hope that she will avoid the mistakes that I've made and I hope that she has as much joy and fun with her daughter as I've had with her. Danielle is my greatest accomplishment in this life. I couldn't love anything more. She will learn so many life lessons when she has her children but, most importantly, she will learn the lesson of true unconditional love. 

I've passed on the curse and I know it works.

I had a little girl just like me and I know she'll have one just like her. Over-reaction runs rampant on the female side and she'll have a whole lot of fun with her little girl. I really can't wait to see it. Her soon-to-be husband will have to sit back and shake his head. Me? I'll be laughing and reveling in the perks that grandchildren bring.

She's wonderful, strong and full of life.

 She is my daughter.

She is her own person.

She is beautiful, inside and out.

She is Danielle.

I love you more, my baby!

Happy 30th Birthday!

LIVES ENTWINED BY PAIN

We are not bound by the flesh.

We are bound by the heart.

We are also bound by pain.

When my daughter was four we moved into a home by a park. My daughter didn't take well to the move. She kept saying that she wanted to go home. I knew the next few days were going to be rough. There was a ring at the door and when I answered it there was a little girl with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. She walked in like she owned the house and from that moment on she and my daughter were inseparable. She was opinionated. She was funny. She was tough on the outside to cover a marshmallow on the inside. She was to become my second daughter.

Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia about a year ago. 

I got a text yesterday apologizing for being a bad friend and talking about how this disease has broken her spirit. It's hard to fight off the depression that is a by-product of chronic pain. There are days that you feel like you just can't fight one more day. Then you wake up in the morning and start all over again. No matter how many times you do this, you still think that you won't be able to fight. 

Boy, do I understand that one.

The last few days have been real rough. The humidity is up and the pain has been off the charts. I've just put the covers over my head and prayed that it goes away. Well, I've taken my pain medication as well. There is no way that I can be without it. Every key that I press, every move I make hurts. The medication doesn't take it away, it just takes the edge off. Even so, the nights in pain and the legs cramping and spasming screws with your head. It not only screws with it; it makes you feel defeated.

Then, I get a letter requesting my presence at a deposition. The car accident that started all of this is winding down. I guess they are finally ready to take my  formal statement. Should I take a pair of 4 inch heels that I wore prior to the accident and that are now collecting dust in my closet? Should I take the bottles of supplements and medications that I now have to take? Or, maybe I should show up before I take my pain medication. That would be real good for the show. 

I'm not fond of attorney's. Well, let me rephrase that. I'm not fond of stupid attorney's. Mine is very sharp and I respect that however, I've been in the company of some real lulu's. If the opposition has a dumb one I will have to try real hard to hold my tongue. I have a lot of anger that surfaces about this accident. My life would be very different right now if this guy had just been watching where he was going and looking at the road ahead of him.  For one, I'd still be working and the financial havoc that this accident has brought would be non-existent. I hope that this deposition will get rid of some of the anger.  I don't know if it will get rid of all of it.  I still have a life that is forever changed. It's a life that is now  filled with pain. So now I not only have my life to worry about, I have my other daughter's life. It's bad enough that I think about the next twenty-five plus years in pain but my little sweetheart has to think about the next fifty. I don't know how I could take that. 

Apparently, she's not doing too well with it either. 

How do you get to the point of acceptance? 

I really struggle with this concept.

And, I'm not doing well with it.

Neither one of us are.

MEET THE PARENTS

July is always a tough month for me.

It's been 36 and 33 years

and even though the pain is gone

the reflections are bittersweet.

I don't think that you should learn the lesson of mortality in your early 20's. It changes you and, in my case, not for the better. My parents death shook me to my very core and removed the feeling of security. It served to cement the knowledge that nothing in this life is permanent and that knowledge has followed me, in varying degrees, until this very day. It not only followed me it shaped the way I looked at family, friends and life.

I didn't need or want to know that. 

I'm not sure what to write. I know that I miss them; their counsel and just their very presence. I believe that my life choices would have been very different if they had been here. I think if I had to decide, I'm more like my dad. He had a dry sense of humor and very quick decision making skills. He was more cerebral and very private. My mother was a wonderful cook and could make anything grow. She had a tender heart and showed every emotion on her face. She was hysterical and my dad likened her to Lucy. When I see some of the characteristics in writing I realize I'm a blend. I know that genetics obviously play a large role in development but, since I was adopted, I can tell you that a lot of it I picked up by osmosis. Either that or my biological parents were a carbon copy of my parents.

I really do wish that my daughter could have known her grandparents. That's one of my biggest regrets. They would have spoiled her rotten and to my mind, that is exactly what grandparents are supposed to do and I am certain that when my daughter has children I will most certainly follow that wonderful tradition. Spoil them and then send them home.

It's weird. July 9th is the anniversary of my mother's death and it is also the birthday of my daughter's almost mother-in-law.  When I was born I was premature and was in an incubator for 3 months. I needed to reach 5 pounds so I could go home. I was sent home on November 17th and that is the same day that I brought my daughter home from the hospital when she was born. My mother's birthday was May 26th and that is the day I got married. I could go on an on about coincidences with important dates in my life. It always seems to happen that way for some reason. Is that weird or what???

So July is a month of reflection for me. My parents would be in their 90's if they had lived. The other VERY strange thing is the age they were when they passed away. My mom was 59 and my dad was 61. They seemed so old to me......I mean, parents were old. They looked old to me and they acted old.  I'm almost the same age as my mother was when she died and I can't see myself as being old. I don't look it and I certainly don't act it. Come on, I am not ready to be a grownup!

That's the trick that age plays on us. Our bodies, no matter how in shape or toned we are, do age but our minds don't catch up. I still feel the same way that I did in my 20's except  I just have a little more experience under my belt. Well, a lot more experience. This is when I look in the mirror and  hate my neck. I've never been tempted to get a face lift but I have been tempted to refresh my neck just a tad. That's the thing about aging. You really do miss your neck. Also, when you walk down the street in your 60's, not many turn around and say, "whoa, baby"!

You know, I may be more like my mother than I realize. I started this post kind of blue and missing my mom. She was also a random thinker and she'd come up with stuff out of the blue and I'd look at her and wonder where the heck did that come from?  Well, I don't have to look far to find her. She's right here.

Hello mom.........your daughter is keeping up your glorious tradition and you'd be happy to learn that it has been passed on to your granddaughter. 

We're all just three little peas in a pod.

I'M NOT A SCREAMER

But I could have.

I always wondered if I would recognize if something were really wrong inside of my body. As of a couple of days ago the answer is unequivocally yes.

I started to feel a little rocky Monday afternoon. No big deal just a little twinge that was slightly uncomfortable. It was an intermittent pain just under my belly button. I wasn't really alarmed and I figured that I hadn't eaten so after dinner everything would be just fine. Along with the fact that Fibromyalgia can really throw your body into fits of mysterious pains and problems I figured that I really had no cause for alarm.

As the day wore on I thought I might be getting the flu. The intermittent pain was becoming more noticeable and stronger. I felt a little warm to the touch. My sweetie asked if I wanted dinner and I didn't think it would be a good idea. Nothing sounded appetizing and I just wanted to get in bed.

All of a sudden I was hit by pain that was in no way the flu. I tried resting and it got worse. Then the pain started radiating down to my lower right side. That did it.  I went to the hospital. I hate to wait and I'm not good at it; however, after cardiac problems, stroke or something major, appendicitis should be right after that. I mean, how do you know if it will burst while you're waiting to be seen for THREE HOURS. I just don't do well with that at all. I actually told the woman checking me in that I understood how people die here. Then I waited another couple of hours for the CAT scan. Then I was left to wait in the critical care unit until 7:30 in the morning. Finally I got a room and covered up and waited for my kids.

I knew that my daughter would be upset. I kept sending her texts because I thought if she heard her phone she'd freak. Finally when they came in and said it was acute appendicitis and I'd be heading for surgery I called her. This was at 3 in the morning so I didn't think she'd answer. Part of me hoped she would and the other part was glad she didn't. I left her a message that started out with , "it's okay, don't worry but." I had no clue how much it affected her until I heard her voice when she called in the morning. When I heard that defenseless little voice; the voice that reminded me of her at 2 crying for me, the voice that she had when she was scared or hurt and I was the only one she turned to. When I heard the voice that  said "mommy, where are you?" I lost it. It took me back so many years but then I realized how the tables had turned. I was there with her for all the hospitalizations and illness issues but she's never seen me in that position.  I was so glad she was here and not in Florida.

I had no idea how much an appendectomy can hurt. My stomach area is swollen and sore. I'm just glad it's over. They kept me in for 24 hours and now I'm home. I'm glad to be in my own bed and I'm doing what we used to call the OB shuffle. If you've had kids you probably know what this is. A couple of days and I'll be back to good or bad as new.........whatever the case may be.

What did I like about the hospital?

The morphine was outstanding.........

OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE DONUTS

I love watching Weight Watcher commercials. I love watching commercials talking about healthy choices. If I could make healthy choices I wouldn't be in this mess. Where is a diet for obsessive compulsives? Where is the diet that will make us want to stuff our mouths with carrots instead of donuts? Where is the immediate gratification diet?

I want something where Sonic, Dairy Queen, Jack in the Box, pasta galore, M&M's by the bed, Rice Krispie treats, tons of mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, noodles and butter at midnight, pizza, haagen-daz by the pint and reese cups works. I want to be able to eat and not sweat.

If I want cheesecake ( a whole one) because I'm depressed, I want a diet that will work with it. I want my fat cells not to go into overdrive because I look at a box of milk duds. I want a diet that takes into account the medicinal properties of ice cream when you don't feel good. I want oreo's to lose calories if I break them in half. I want to eat popcorn at movies because it's part of the whole entertainment package.

I am insanely jealous of people that can still eat and not wake up looking like a wall-eyed salmon. I don't understand how one tiny slice of cheesecake can add 5 lbs in 8 hours. I can duct tape this crap to my thighs and bypass my stomach to save time. WTF? Why does your body say at 50 you have to eat rabbit food otherwise you'll look like crap?

I've got so much preservatives in my system from all the McDonald's over the years that I don't have wrinkles. Plus, I have too much fat that I fill out all the wrinkles anyway.

Maybe I need to come up with a diet that incorporates 3 days of eating good and 4 of eating whatever I want. Well, how about 2 days of eating good and 5 of eating crap. Maybe science should come up with a pill that negates calories in food. Maybe fat should come back in style... that look of affluence because you have food to eat and thin is ugly. Ok, it was an idea. I know, WON'T HAPPEN.

If I would just exercise. I hear my daughter laughing from the other room.............................

None of this works for me.