My Purpose: Entertain, Inspire, Be Happy, Free Hugs!
 

How To Get Skinny Fast. (Not "Skinny-Fat")

I Lost 10 Pounds. Start Skinny Shaming Me!Okay, so far no one has skinny shamed me—to my face! But I'm sure it's going to happen any day now because I'm getting skinny again, ya'll. What's the magic potion? Well, technically I'm not allowed to call it "magic" or "fat cure" or "God-in-a-bottle," but I ain't gonna lie. Dis shit is da bomb. The bulge-busting bomb, baby! "This stuff" is Thrive. And, yeah, I'm convinced it's making me svelte! Before we get to the part where I lost 10 pounds in a month—plus an inch off my muffin top—let me explain how I first gained the weight. Also, I'm disclosing that if you buy Thrive through me I do so...

Facelifts and So Forth

What To Consider When Considering Cosmetic Surgery. Anxious and waiting—and possibly oozing beneath the mummified bandages—in the private clinic of a plastic surgeon's office spotlighted by fluorescent lights ... Me: The swelling isn't that bad. Marilyn: I don't know. I have no one to compare it to. I don't know anyone who's had a facelift done. Me: Oh, you do. You just don't know that you do. I've seen a few. This ain't bad, I promise. Marilyn: That's encouraging! The surgeon comes in, and I take a close look at him to see if he's had any "work" done, as if it might reflect on his ability. Of course it doesn't unless he's operating on himself, and that would really...

Let's Talk Razor Burn.

...Because Then She Shaved My Face...If you want a detailed list of the cosmetic procedures I've done to look baby-face fresh, you'll have to read my memoir. Or at least skip to that chapter. Oh wait, details are sprinkled throughout. In that case, feel free to skim-read—though, you would be missing out on plenty of shits and giggles-snorts. Just sayin' ... Just sayin'. Who else dislikes that saying? Riiight? (And that one.) And yet it slips out, not unlike a—I'll skip the innuendo because I'm a grown-up now. Though I can probably give myself one more year. I mean who ends adolescence at 44? OCDness alone begs another year (to make 45), but six is preferable (to round up to...

My Butt Has Fallen And It Won't Get Up.

What Do You Call A Dinasour With A Stressed Rump? Mega Sore Ass. First off, if you call me a dinasour you gonna get word-whipped. Second, even though it's not technically a middle-age birthday for me on May 24th (I hope, and, thank you), some days I do feel old. And, third, yes, I am going to talk about my ass again. (This was written a few weeks ago, but then my mom's butt took centre stage. Let's pretend this occurred just the other day ...) How sore is my ass? My ass is sooo sore ... Speaking of butt, we interrupt this blog to bring you ... Farting Fellow aka Gassy Guy aka Dude's Gotta Poo aka The...

Training for the Annapurna Circuit aka The Build-A-Butt Plan.

Boracay Beach, Philippines Blog Five. As mentioned in a previous Boracay-series blog, I'm here on this relatively flat and tiny isle of paradise as part of my "training for the Himalayas" hike next month.—This just in: Almost Forty Die in Avalanche on the Annapurna Circuit. A moment of sadness and prayers for their loved ones. (I'm not changing my plans.) Okay, carry on.—I could have trained back home in Canada which has real mountains, but those real mountains are filled with mountain lions, cougars (aside from me, no insult intended) and bears. It's always the cougars one needs to worry about. (Double meaning.) But Canada is cold now. Kind of like the Himalayas. Hmm. Well, whatever, I'm here to get fit—or...

Vanity Insanity - Just to be Clear(-Skinned), I am Still Vane

There’s a dichotomy in me. I blame it on TV. Actually, more on TV commercials. And fashion/health/beauty/cosmetic-procedure(!) magazines. And Internet and mannequins in store windows—and my memories of all these things that are indelibly inked in my mind from years of subjecting myself to them. Silly-ass girl. (By the way, if/when you read my memoir, I would like to note that at that time I was in the midst of this image-oriented not-mid-life mess, which means there’s a lot of funny shit in that book I should be ashamed of except that I say never should on yourself or others. So I refuse to be ashamed, yet I cannot help but be slightly abashed for the overt ugliness of...

Daring Greatly with TMI!

I just read Brené Brown’s book, Daring Greatly, which was recommended to me recently and which I’ve been meaning to read for a while. It’s about vulnerability, shame, guilt, connection. Basically, Brown writes that allowing ourselves to be vulnerable is courageous not weak like so many of us seem to think. We all fear vulnerability in ourselves and seem to admire it in others. When someone dares greatly by expressing vulnerability, such as quitting their lucrative career to pursue their passion without any guarantee of success, people often admire that and label it courageous. I would like to add that there is no bravery without taking action in the face of fear (vulnerability). If you’re not afraid, it’s simply...

Using the “C” Word in Public—(And the “F” Word in this Post)

Warning: This blog contains a lot of the following swears: Fuck and cellulite. I haven’t had a dose of vanity insanity since I had shit put in my chinny chin chin back when I’d first arrived in Los Angeles, home of the overdose of overdone. A Doctor Yummy in Beverly Hills put out a Groupon coupon for a discount on Botox and naturally, being a thrifty, responsible gal, I figured I was saving money, and face, by clicking Buy Now! (The fact that I wanted to meet the dreamy dermatologist had nothing to do with my decision. [Fib.] The fact that a Doctor who’s been on The View, Oprah et al. and who is offering Groupon does not go...

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