The sad, sad truth.

I took the Gidgester out for a walk yesterday, and since it was a gorgeous night and I was wearing my running shoes and sweats, I decided to jog a few blocks with her to see if she'd be a good "running" buddy (ha! like I actually ever run!). I decided to go only a few blocks because I wasn't sporting a sports bra, and lemme tell you, I need all the help I can get to defy gravity.

As it turns out, the boob jiggle factor (or in my case, bounce factor) -- gosh, how many hits am I going to get because of that content? -- was not the problem. Of course, I could have used a bra with better "strap-em-in/lash-em-down" strength, but it wasn't too, too bad. I had assumed they would cause problems, but they didn't. Which isn't to say I didn't have problems. Jiggle problems. With other parts.

No, not my ass.

It turns out that my love handles jiggle when I jog. I never really thought about whether I had them, but I guess I do. Because they were jiggling, bouncing, and generally making their presence known as I tried to jog along.

Seriously.

It was slightly uncomfortable, physically. The realization was even more psychologically uncomfortable -- because if my boobs, which are one of my larger assets, didn't cause a bounce problem but my love handles did, well, hell, how big are they anyway? Jeez.

Do they make bras for love handles? Ya' know, I'm not even sure I want to know the answer to that.

Why oh why oh why???

Why do I have the song from Yentl going through my head?



Give me back Indiana Jones!

I have joined the ranks

of those who feel slightly too old to be on Facebook but are anyway. I also have a Friendster account and one on Plaxo (which is more like an online address book). I think I may have registered on MySpace too, but if so, it was to peruse rather than use the site. I definitely don't have any content up there.

I know that employers often check these sites when interviewing job applicants. I know this because my current office did, and they found me, as well as other candidates they were considering. They even told me that they dinked a candidate because his MySpace/Facebook page undermined his credibility, and they couldn't take him seriously after seeing his pictures. Oops.

Even though I have these accounts, I don't actually maintain a huge online presence. This blog, which is hopefully googlenymous, and those sites, which can only be accessed by friends or those in my network. Of course, there is plenty out there about me from previous jobs -- public statements, accomplishments, etc. -- but nothing inappropriate or unprofessional. I make it a habit to google myself periodically to see what is out there. And if I ever decide to look for another job, I will definitely make sure that my networking pages are private. Not that there's anything embarassing on them -- because, like I said, I am just slightly (wink, wink) too old but way too uncool for it all.

New York Times Sunday Magazine cover article...

About blogging and privacy and what happened when it became more than a hobby and more than a career.

Read it. Interesting stuff.

For your compulsive pleasure...

Having made repeat appearances over the course of the past week and currently running through my head: the theme from Indiana Jones.

The 2008 Great Beer Run

As in, folks from across the country have agreed (at least preliminarily) to haul cases of Fat Tire over miles of highway for my wedding reception. One is schlepping da' stuff from Iowa, a mere 843 miles, but the other is hauling case from Minnesota, 1106 miles. I don't know how much either car will in reality be able to carry, but anything is more than what I have now, which is nothing. So I'm immensely grateful. THANK YOU.

And I guess this all means that the beer is going to be among the farthest-travelled for the reception. Heh.

Remember, shhhh! It's a surprise for SM!

The Pudge Report

+ 2 pounds. 17 TG.

Oink.

Monday morning haiku

Showers everyday.
If not rain, then it's pollen.
Both make me grumpy.

Most insulting response yet.

So we're having our engagement BBQ next weekend. My college roommate could not make the wedding. She was so disappointed (I guess because she had been waiting that long for me to get legal) that she said that she would definitely want to come to any other event we were organizing around the wedding -- an engagement party or shower, if we were having one.

I hadn't even considered having an engagement party.

But we wanted to see her and celebrate with her, so we decided to do an engagement BBQ. We chose the long Memorial Day weekend, which meant a bunch of local folks who were skipping town for the weekend would not make it, but it also meant that out-of-towners could.

So that's next weekend.

We're still getting RSVPs as folks make up their minds and their schedules. The most insulting response I've gotten so far to our invitation? Someone who may not be able to attend because she may have to clean out her father's storage unit. No, it's not a definite plan that's she's already committed to. Nothing like that. It's just something that she may be doing that day.

I guess because she had nothing better to do, like, say, attend an engagement BBQ? Jeez.

Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo California!

The WaPo reports... The California Supreme Court overturned a ban on same-sex marriages Thursday, potentially creating the second state in the nation to allow same-sex couples to wed.

Kewl.

Hey, do I know you?

No? Well, in that case, can you bring me several cases of Fat Tire?

Yes, I am reaching out to any and all in my quest for the Tubby Tube. So far, I have spoken to a coupla' folks who may be able to help with my special delivery... neither of whom I have ever met.

Ahh, the kindness of strangers.

Maybe beer is bonding that way?

I couldn't agree more.

I have always believed that we as a country still accept sexism while reviling racism. Sexism is still the "soft" prejudice that we can get away with. We may eschew both -isms, but our collective actions and tolerance levels speak louder than words. Sexist jokes are funny but racist jokes are not. And I am also guilty of this, laughing at a joke based in sexism.

But, as sad as I am that engaged in such behavior, I admit it. And won't make the mistake again. Permitting it is the same as promoting it. With that admission, I must agree with Marie Cocco's op-ed in the Post today. I have been disgusted, just disgusted at the blatant sexism that has not only been permitted in this campaign but also promoted by the media.

Shameful.

If you don't like Hillary because of her politics or policy positions or her smarts or her perceived fakeness or even because of her religion, that's fine and fair -- so long as you are using the same standards to assess the other candidates. Judge the men on their politics, policy positions, smarts, sincerely and/or religion too.

If, however, you don't like Hillary because you think she's a bitch or shrill or too ambitious or because she somehow let down women everywhere by not dumping Bill and her marriage during the Lewinsky scandal, then you are judging her against a prejudiced standard. Men can't be "bitches", and when is the last time you heard a man called out for being "too ambitious"? (And what exactly do those things have to do with being President anyway?) That's just sexist.

And if you're okay with that, then fine. But at least admit it.

Wanted: Fat Tire

As in the beer. I want it. Well, actually SM wants it. I want it for SM. For our wedding reception. It's his absolute favorite beer. I mean F-A-V-E, fave.

Sadly for us and thousands of other Fat Tire fans, the New Belgium Brewery in Colorado does not distribute Fat Tire to the East Coast. We cannot get it. No how, no way. And we can't order it from the brewery directly. The closest state that sells is Illinois, a mere 12 hour drive from here. Other options include New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Wyoming, Kansas, Missouri, Nebraska, Iowa, and Minnesota.

Dagnabbit.

Not very helpful.

I want to buy many many cases of Fat Tire for SM for a surprise at the reception. Even though I have friends and contacts in the above states, I am thwarted by the cost of shipping (because beer is heavy, man!), as well as potential entanglements because of state alcohol laws regarding shipping. I am actually considering a 12-hour road trip just to buy beer.

That's kinda funny. 40 years old and taking a 12-hour road trip just to buy beer. Heh.

But I'm considering it so that I can get it for SM for the wedding. Because he loves it that much, and I want to surprise him. I don't know when I'll be able to do it though because I still have to actually plan the wedding. Maybe over the 4th of July weekend? Who knows.

So, does anyone have any good suggestions for how to get Fat Tire to the East Coast? Or, anyone planning a road trip to DC or anywhere near DC (I'll meet you!) before August 9th and would like to fill their trunk with Fat Tire for me and my future hubby?

Otherwise, we may have to serve a lesser beer at the reception. ::gasp!::