I find myself somewhat saddened by the recent change from "blog" to "news". What I write in these spaces is certainly not news nor newsworthy so I find it hard to write my little personal stories and poetry and then hit "post news". Makes me think I am doing something wrong. The explanation I read in another post certainly doesn't seem to really fit Mojo as it is and so it feels like a door is being closed. While change can be good, it is sometimes hard for those of us already here. Blogs may be passe according to another member, but I've never claimed to be trend-forward. I get my news the old-fashioned way but do enjoy reading the different viewpoints in this place that relate to what I read and see elsewhere. But, I hate to lose the occasionally brilliant or funny random personal blogs of others as much as I hate to lose a space to write freely when I get those bursts of inspiration (or insanity) in the middle of the night. There are so many other sources of news that one more appears somewhat redundant. The purely social aspects of Mojo that drew me here and have kept me here for so long are slowly fading away, one by one. As Mojo becomes more commercial, it is losing much of what made it unique and fun and special.
I have to agree with many of your thoughts here. I am not writing news, I am clearing my mind, expressing myself, participating in self therapy when I write...I hope that it is new, but certainly not news. I have moved and now duplicate much of my blog onto Google Blogspot as I fear one day Mojo will loose it during one of their random updates and changes in the name of new & improved.
He is my monster.
All mine.
Pale eyes,
Sickly yellow,
Casting shadows
In the fading light.
The grum, grumb, grumbling
Of hunger and an empty belly
Rumbling, rumbling
Beneath my bed.
The snick snick of claws
Stroking the scales
Of his underbelly.
Snorts and sneezes.
Restless and waking.
He lays and waits.
Awaiting full dark.
Time to roam.
Run, run, running
Through my dreams.
Playing hide and seek.
I hide.
He seeks.
Hungry.
Sniffing.
He is my monster.
All mine.
And you can't have him.
Ok, I know I'm 49 and over the past three years have lost most of the body parts that play a major role in regulating things like body temperature but, FERCRYINGOUTLOUD. I had a hot flash (power surge, personal summer, whatever you want to call them) today that lasted five and a half freakin' hours. I didn't know it was possible to walk around all day with chill bumps up and down your arms, your face fire-engine red, sweat beading on your upper lip and running down the back of your neck, freezing and burning all at the same time, looking like a bad SNL skit. I've had the fan sitting in the middle of my desk, blowing in my face, both office doors open, the door to outside open and I'm dying in there. People are walking by asking, "Are you okay?" "Don't have the piggy flu, do ya?" and I'm smiling and going "No, I'm fine. Just a little warm in here." Warm, blah, I was bathing in the steamy waters of hell. Was I all right? Geesh. Did I look all right?
I have tried to convince myself that being female is a wonderful thing. And fifty is the new forty, right? But, seriously, getting older is just a ridiculous experience. Your body turns into the mythical Trickster, breaking the rules of the gods and nature. Foolish, but funny. Full of surprises. Ever bent over to pick up your shoes and unexpectedly propelled yourself out the bedroom door with the gaseous explosion that occurred? That's funny. I don't care who you are. And no twenty year old can produce that sort of nuclear effect. Hell, if you could harness all the bodily emanations of the over forty crowd, you could light up the Earth.
At least I can date someone half my age and not break any laws even though my back goes out more than I do. And speed limits no longer present a challenge so my insurance rates are lower. Not to mention, I recently discovered that geriatric erotica is alive and well and on the web so now I actually have something to look forward to. Sex after sixty. Whooo-hoooo!
there is a medicine they can give you. i had to be put into medical menopause as a treatment for my endometriosis and the side effect was horrible flashes. I can' remember the name of the med but there is a med that makes them go away. Ask your doctor.
Me and my co-workers are into week three of training now and have added some incentive by playing the Biggest Loser. We all pitched in twenty bucks to start. We weigh in each Friday morning before 8:30 and for every half pound gained, we put in fifty cents. At our holiday break, the person with the biggest weight loss gets the pot. Not an insignificant amount of money with the number of people we have playing. Of course, people are already finding ways to "cheat". We all now know to the ounce how much each pair of pants and shoes and other clothing items we own weighs so we can wear the lightest possible outfit on Fridays. Ought to start calling it "no-panty Friday". Every ounce counts. No one will eat breakfast until after the weigh-in. Couple of people won't weigh in until after they've spent some time sitting on the throne. It gets pretty funny listening to all the excuses and innovative ways to push that number on the scales down.
I feel like I have a long way to go to reach any of the goals I have set for myself and progress is slow. That's okay though. Slow loss is weight more likely to stay off and the strength and stamina will come in time. I'm up to 2 1/2 miles at a 19 minute mile pace which is twice as far as I could get two weeks ago. Doesn't sound like much to most people, but it's a real accomplishment for me.
Trying to be patient is the hardest part. Trying not to embarrass yourself in front of friends is motivation enough to keep at it.
I think it is cool that you are trying to lose weight. Aldo remember that muscle weighs more then fat and you should also do a body fat count every once in a while. I hated to run while I was in the military. Just keep the activity.
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sent Thu Nov 19 @ 10:15 PM
TwistedSister