Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Eharmony Hates Fat People

Well maybe they don't hate them, but they figure other people do.

Let me explain this, k?

Back in December I told you about my worst birthday present ever, a 3 month subscription to Eharmony. Not only was it the worst birthday present ever, but the biggest waste of money ever.

Now keep in mind that I pretty much thought of this whole thing as a joke. I really had no intention of meeting someone from an online dating community, not that there is anything wrong with that. After reading a few of my potential men I figured this place knew nothing about what I wanted.

Practically every match I got was a yuppie from downtown Chi town. They all have the same three pics. The one of them skiing. The one of them walking on the beach next to Lake Michigan. Oh, and my most favorite one? The one of them in spandex riding their bike or running.

Let me make this clear, mmmkay? I would never date a man that wears spandex. Maybe that is small minded of me, but hey, a girl has to have her limits.

The other thing I have noticed is a disturbing trend in the can't have/must have section. You get a bunch of canned answers to chose from. Like must have an active person. Can't stand a person who's happiness depends on me. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Every single person I was matched with had Can't Stand Overweight People.

To be honest, this kind of offends me, in a split personality kind of way. I know it doesn't mean that they really can't stand overweight people, just that they don't want to date them.

Which seems really small minded to me, especially since I am a former tank ass.

Now the other side of my personality says, "Hey, people can't help what they are attracted to. They are just looking for someone that fits physically and emotionally."

Yeah fucking right.

So I decided that maybe I would change my can't stand/must haves after my latest match. Of course he had the pre-requisite no fat people one, and a bunch about how he must have someone who is sexually experienced. Oh, and must have someone who really really likes sex.

Now looking at this guy, he is no one I would be attracted to. He is tall which is a plus, but skinny as hell. His prerequisite beach picture also had one of those little Paris Hilton annoying as fuck dogs in it.

I am not a little dog person. But hey, I have an open mind, right?

Anyway I decide that if these fucking arrogant men that only want a skinny chick can put that, I'm gonna change mine to reflect that I don't want some bone skinny guy.

Guess what? There is no choice for that. Appearance wise you can chose fat. That's it.

So why they hell can't I pick that I don't want someone skinny if they can pick they don't want someone that is fat? Now I'm usually not one of those fatcentric type people but this really seems like a double standard. You can't even write it in.

Oh well, thanks for the memories Eharmony. My "gift" is about to run out, and if my friend extends it he is in a world of hurt.

Monday, March 20, 2006

To Hell with Shamrock Shakes

So I had my very own Supersize moment this weekend.

You see, growing up my dear, sweet Mother would not allow us to eat fast food. In fact, if we ever went out to eat it was a special occasion indeed. But fast food, never.

Yes my Mother was a bit of a health food junkie in a kind of cute, hippy kind of way. She did allow certain things in the house, but fast food was OFF LIMITS, except for one time of year.

Shamrock Shake time at McDondald's.

For whatever reason, and I'll take a stab at it and say because she's Irish, we were allowed to have a Shamrock Shake once a year. If she was in a really good mood we might even get to have Mikey D's fries.

Oh they were just heaven. Yes, I had fast food when I went with my friend's parents, which of course my Mom wouldn't know about, but this was our special treat every year.

Fast forward to when I turned 16 and could drive. My chubby ass went to fast food places whenever I could. I worked and went to high school, and a lot of kids went to Burger King after school. My work schedule gave me about a half hour to kill after school, and my expanding tank ass could be found there most of the time.

So when I had to lose weight in my late teens/early twenties I swore off fast food. I swear I can track when I really started ballooning up in weight to the day I could drive. Sure, some of that could be because I walked and rode my bike before that, but a huge portion of that was my freedom of food choices.

Over the years except for the occasional drunken White Castle drive thru I have stayed away from fast food. No more of that for me.

The one time of year that I do is what? You guessed it, Shamrock Shake time.

Even then all I get is the Shamrock Shake. One time deal.

So I remembered Friday that I hadn't had my Shamrock Shake yet. I was running late to work, hadn't prepared very well, and was starving.

I know I used to love those Whoppers, and I proceeded to try and order one. "You are at McDonald's, that's Burger King," the voice boomed from the drive thru microphone.

Whoops. Hell they have all these numbers and junk where you can order value meals. I ordered a #2, Quarter pounder/w cheese, fries, and my Shamrock Shake.

It was almost like a heroine addict getting a fix after many years of being off the wagon. I drove to work savoring every bite of that quarter pounder, scarfing french fries and drinking that delicious Shamrock Shake.

It wasn't until about an hour later that I realized that was a BIG mistake. It felt like the pits of hell had took up residence in my stomach. I won't go into details, but I'm assuming that what happened next is a lot like what those Gastric Bypass people refer to as "dumping", and it was happening from every orifice of my body, or so it seemed. Sorry for the TMI.

It was so not pretty. I can't ever remember being so sick. Needless to say I wasn't very value added at work that night.

So it really got me thinking. I remember when I saw Super Size Me with a friend she talked about the scene where he is throwing up in the parking lot. She kept saying that had to be staged, that no one would have a violent reaction like that.

Like hell I say. I kind of thought that too, that it was something put in there for dramatic effect. But maybe, just maybe we are all so used to eating that crap that our bodies are just used to accepting it.

Kind makes you wonder what it is doing to our insides if it causes a reaction that strong, eh?

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Good Old Fashioned Liberal Guilt

So my puppy Nitro is coming home in two weeks. Here he is again:

I repeat, isn't he the cutest thing ever? Anyway, even though he is not in my house yet, he has already caused me grief.

Well, not directly, so it's not exactly his fault...

You see, the arrival of these two:

(I finally found a way to tell them apart in pictures)

has caused me to spend way to much time with my brother's in-laws. Oh, the 'rents are ok. Hard-working typical Midwestern people. It's their two daughters.....

My brother's sisters'-in-law have never really worked a day in their life, and don't ever plan on it either. My brother's wife is the youngest, so these women are both in their early 40's.

Their Mom, who is in her mid 60's, just got a part-time job because one of them needed a car, and she signed for it. They promptly stopped paying the payments, hence sticking their Mother with the bill.

I would scrub toilets before my Mother would have to get a job at that age. Anyway...

Did I mention that husbands of these two sisters aren't a whole lot better? They randomly work until they can collect unemployment again. Oh, and God forbid they make too much money and can't get their food stamps anymore.

These are people that definitely prove "the system" doesn't work. They know exactly how to exploit it, and have ever since their teenage asses got pregnant.

So even though they have never really had a job, don't plan on getting a job, and have done nothing to better their situation, they just LOVE making comments about me.

You see, I'm rich. Well, not really, but in their eyes I am rich. Yes, I make a comfortable living. I get union pay and have a side business that does rather well. I probably make more then the average American, have a nice house, nice car, nice stuff...

But I work my ass off for every penny I have. Nothing in my life has been handed to me. I worked my way through college. I payed for it myself, with the exception of scholarships I received for my grade point average, which wasn't much, because I made too much money.

So since they leech off the government and have been delt such a bad hand in life they feel the need to make comments on any purchase I make. Why do I need a house as big as mine (which isn't big, just in a nice area). Why do I need a car and an SUV (try driving in the Chicago winter on the expressway and tell me you wouldn't have one if you had the money)?

Don't I know there are people in America that don't have anything?

Why yes, yes I do. I really do have great empathy for those who are not able to improve their situation, and there are many charities I donate to help these people. I know I'm very fortunate. Lord knows I wasn't born with a silver spoon, but I am lucky enough to have the mental and physical ability to make a good life for myself.

But I also believe if you are able to work you should go out and get a fucking job.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Nitro causing me grief. So I went downtown shopping, and one of my favorite stores, Coach, had the cutest ever dog collar and leash.

And I bought it.

My sis-in-law called me while I was driving home to see if I would bring my camera over to take some pics of the twins. They were going to send out It's a Girl! cards and needed a good photo. I made the huge mistake of saying what I had bought.

Now she didn't do it on purpose, but she said something to the affect of "Your dog is going to be better dressed then me!"

The welfare sisters were sitting there while she was talking to me, and I'm assuming they asked her what she meant by that when she got off the phone with me.

They had plenty to say when I got there about my new purchase. You know, things like "That's just ridiculous" or "You have that much money that you can buy things like that" or "If you have that much money you could always give me some" or "I can't even get my kid decent shoes and you are buying designer collars?"

So I'll admit for a minute I felt that good old fashioned liberal guilt. I mean really, what was I doing buying something like that for a dog.

Then I got over it real quick. I usually never really say anything back to them. It's considered to politically incorrect. Kinda like if someone is naturally skinny it is ok to make comments about their size, but if someone is fat you better not say a word.

It's been an emotional month. Not a real good time to fuck with me...

I just looked at her and said, "Well why don't you get a job so that your kid can have some decent fucking shoes?"

Shock and Awe people. You see, while the fuck's freely flow here, in real life I really don't ever say that word.

After a moment of rather uncomfortable silence the subject was changed and that was that. No going on and on about how much I make. No going on and on about how some of my purchases are frivolous.

I'm diggin' this being politically incorrect stuff. Yes, I bought my fucking dog a designer collar and leash and I don't even HAVE him yet. That is just one of the benefits of having a master that works hard.

He's so going to be stylin'. And I don't feel guilty about it at all.

Monday, March 13, 2006

While I'm at it...

So while I'm posting pics of poor, defenseless people that can't bitch about it I figured I'd post another one where the subject can't bitch about it.

That sentence made absolutely no sense, but oh the fuck well. :)

I'm still getting back into the swing of things after my month of pure hell, but I'm getting there. In the mean time, check this out.

Introducing Nitro @ 4 weeks old, my soon to be new baby:

He's just so damn cute!

Saturday, March 11, 2006

And Now For Something Really Different

So usually I don't put pictures up on this blog of other people. Mostly because I know they wouldn't be all that happy about it. These two can't exactly complain yet, so here goes:

Both twins are home, happy, and healthy.

There is a God after all.

They came home the day after my Step-G's funeral, and I don't think my brother or sister-in-law have slept since.

I believe they are just now realizing what exactly they have gotten theirselves into......

It's great for me though. I go over there, play with the babies, and leave when they start crying in unision.

Being an Aunt is the best.

Friday, March 03, 2006

The End and The Beginning

My step-Grandma has finally lost her long battle with Alzheimer's.

Little twin Sarah is getting to come home from the hospital this weekend after a valiant battle for her life.

The circle of life continues.

After spending the last two weeks in one hospital or another, I need a time to gather my emotions and thoughts.

To quote Rich,

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