You want fries with that?

Can someone please explain to me why this finger in a bowl of Wendy's chili got so much press?

Today's headline read, “Conspiracy Charges Filed.” I couldn't ignore it, I tried but being an X-file fan, the word conspiracy had my mind spinning. Was this McDonalds way of boosting their sales? “Johnson, sales are down. You better do something to get sales back up or it's your job!”

Was it a new terrorist attack? “Foolish Americans, they waste all their money, time and resources protecting their airports, energy plants, political conventions and malls. But we will strike them where it will hurt the most – their waistline. We will bring down the infidels by sabotaging their big food companies. We'll bring down McDonalds, Coke and Checkers. Around the world people will fear finding left over parts of suicide bombers in there McFlurries, Whoppers, Mandarin Orange Salads, Dominos, cans of Lime Diet Coke and bottles of Yoohoo.”

Was it the Christian right? “Legalize same sex marriage? Never! Let's put body parts and bugs and hairnets in fast food restaurants and we'll blame the gays. We'll say that they are a threat and dangerous to the American way of life. The gays are trying to destroy the American family. If they can't get married then they'll attack the staple of the American family -- fast food.”

These are the things I think of when I read, “conspiracy.” What a buzz kill to read, 2/3 of the way down, that the new charge being filed was, “The Conspiracy to Commit Fraud.” Well, duh! They only thought of that now?

The article when on to say that this nut faces up to ten years in jail. Why? Why make us pay to house her, feed her and to be someone's lesbian sex bitch? Why not force her to work at Wendy's instead? She wouldn't get paid, couldn’t touch the food but she could go from one Wendy's to another cleaning out the grease traps, mopping the floors, cleaning the bathrooms. Or how about just forcing her to eat Wendy's for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next 10 years? Wait, forget that last one, America has rules about cruel and unusual punishment.

I'm hungry now. I think I'll go get some chicken mcnuckles and fries.

On a dime

That’s how quickly things can turn. Usually we are more aware of life turning from good to bad but every now and then something as routine as walking your doggies can totally take you from the depths of a dark hole to the heights of a mountain top.

How I got in that hole is no surprise - work! Most days my job is 50/50; it's a rare day when I can't wait to call my friends or mother to share the joys of my job. On the flipside frequent are the calls that begin, "I hate my job!" I'm a District Manager for a company that sells various brands of men's clothes. As a DM in retail, I've got it easy here. I'm my own boss, I rarely have to travel, I almost never work more than 45 hrs a week, I actually have an office where I work from 85% of the time and my office is two blocks from my apartment. They sound like simple pros but in the life of a DM they are huge but then the cons are nicely sized as well. I get no feedback or real support, the people in the office really don't talk to/with me (not sure why), it's a small company so there's lot's of drama and most importantly the pay sucks.

So I'm walking my doggies, like I do 3-4 times a day, every day, it's about 11:30 pm and I have spent much of the walk grumbling about work, finding a new job, moving to another city and thinking about how Tuesday will probably be worse when we happen across some people gathered outside of the restaurant where they just had a great dinner. To say my doggies are cute is an understatement - and that's not just a proud daddy talking. Truvy is a small mixed female with a pug like tail and the face of a Chihuahua. She's a great dog, very cuddly, truly smart, and fiercely protective of her bones, has no fear of dogs (especially really big ones), will always bark at homeless people, is a lesbian and a Princess. No, she’s not spoiled. She’s entitled to the very high standard of living I heap upon her. I rescued Truvy from the shelter when she was about a year old; she's 3.5 years old now. My ex used to joke that she won the doggie lottery getting adopted by me but the reality is we both won, my jackpot was just bigger.

Tramp is my new boy who basically adopted my family. It was last Thanksgiving and it was pouring down rain. My mom had run to the store for some ingredient that was very important to the success of the dish. Already dressed up for the day, she made a mad dash from the car to the house. As she stood in the kitchen shaking the rain from her coat, in the corner of her eye she caught something moving and screamed! Mom spooks easily not because of nerves like some people but from her deep seated fear of bugs. It's the first thing her mind goes to, so when she sees something moving where nothing is supposed to move, she screamed. No one came running, we're all use to mom's scream, we simply called, "Are you okay?" Instead of the usual, slightly embarrassed (even after all these years and countless screams,) "Yes," this time it was, "Where did this dog come from?" What? What dog?

There, in the middle of the kitchen looking like a drowned rat was Tramp, all twelve soaking-wet-pounds of Cairn Terrier (like Toto in the wizard of OZ). We took him in, dried him off (I used my hair dryer on him), fed him, played with him and slowly fell in love with him. His fur is the color of wheat, soft and long and just beautiful. He's got a mischievous personality; a spark of trouble in is eye, a playful spirit and a lust to roam. He had a collar but no tags so there was nothing we could do that day but give him a safe, dry and warm home to stay in until we found his owners. Which we did about a week later but they didn't want him! "What? What kind of horrible, heartless people are you?" That's what I thought, what I said was, "Can we keep him?"

Tramp came back to DC with Truvy and me. (My parents live on Long Island in NY) I learned that his real name was Champion (Champ) and I knew it was fate that had directed him to us. During the week it took us to find his dirty rotten owners, I had named him Tramp because of the way he appeared and looked on that rainy day.

My, Oh so cute and adorable, doggies, elicit lots of attention and the diners fell under their spell. When we're out walking, tramp only has one thing on his mind, to keep going. He doesn't care about people; dogs get his full attention but people just slow him down. He has places to smell and trees to pee on. Truvy loves people and for some reason (she won't tell me) there are people she goes nuts for and this guy was one of them. His boyfriend just stood there and watched in amazement as cast her spell wagging her body, licking his face and holding his hand with her paws. He loved every second of it and of course wanted to know her name. Her name is Truvy, Miss Truvy to be exact (did you make the connections?). He looked at me, grew a big smile and began to ask, “From Steel Magnolias?” Yes. He let out one of the biggest, loudest girlie screams I have ever heard and continued laughing just as loud. After a few minutes, when we all finished laughing, we had started laughing at/with him, he went on to say how SM was his favorite movie, ran off all his favorite line and the conversation went on from there. We must have been there 15 minutes or more before we parted and I was no longer in that dark hole but somewhere on a mountain. The woes of work had gone to some far off land.

As we headed home, I noticed that a neighbor’s Peony’s had bloomed. I stopped and inhaled their light, sweet aroma. How wonderful. I realized that I was living in the moment and finally had some “Things I'm Great Full For” - my doggies, the diners, these beautiful flowers and Dolly Parton. I know I shouldn't have but I took a few of those flowers and put them on my desk. Shining lights in a deep, dark hole.

Excuses, excuses, excuses

My last post was in March. I have many excuses for not posting - I changed the template and screwed the blog up, it took a lot of time to figure out (never did) and fix (finally). Then I wanted to add links, that took a while, then it was work and life and blah, blah, blah. Yes, lots of excuses, none of them good and only one true reason. Writing taps into my feelings...finding cracks in my walls of defense.

So I began to see myself as one of them -- that was back in March and I haven't changed. Still 220, still not exercising but still able to fit into the biggest size in a few of the brands my favorite store sells. I have begun trying -- watching what I eat. If you don't really try, you can't really fail and you only succeed by luck.

Motivation.
Depression.
Fear.

Summer 2004. As spring ended, and summer began so did my motivation. Not the same motivation most people have -- looking good in a swim suit, mine was about my 40th birthday and having to get my photo taken for my new license renewal. My weight line? The end of August. I was really successful too. I lost 30 pounds just by dieting. People were commenting -- it felt good. I was starting to catch men's eyes again. Fear.

Fear on many levels. My weight loss took away one of my excuses for not going out, for not meeting people and for not hooking up! No fat sex. I'm a face person, no "buttah faces" for me. He could have the perfect body but if I didn't like his face -- sorry. I my not want others to have sex with me when I'm "out of shape" but I don't see them like I see myself. As my weight came off and I looked and felt better, I was loosing my excuse to not meet people. So back the weight came. And that was okay because I had an excuse.

Stress -- things got way out of line at work and I wound up having to travel. I traveled for almost two months -- hard to stick to a diet when traveling, especially when in NY and your favorite food in the world is pizza. NY pizza. Good excuse and true but really it was the fear of getting close to people again.

I have yet to truly bottom out but maybe I won't have too. 41 is only 4 months away and counting. And by some stroke of luck, I am still HIV neg.