Getting old is tough. My mind doesn’t feel my age but my body sure does. I really never thought about age, except when I was 18 and I couldn’t wait to be 21. But ever since then, it really never mattered to me. Suddenly, I’ve become very “age sensitive.” Is it because I’m almost reaching Cougar status? Or is there really such a thing as a “biological clock?” If there is, mine is running very slow. I was never in a rush to have kids, or get married or anything like that. But I’m suddenly surrounded by people noticeably younger than me.
I’ve recently signed on to play on a softball team. I haven’t played in a very long time and it’s taking me a little longer to bounce back from Sunday practices followed by Monday night games. I remember the days when I would play softball six nights a week and sometimes a couple tournaments on the weekends. I was in decent shape. But now, I walk around like Frankenstein, dragging my feet and moaning. I’m hoping that this is something that can be easily remedied by hitting the gym in the mornings. The sloth life is not for me!
Then the rest of the week, I’m in school. I decided to go back to school and get my law degree. Next to business, I think law is one of those degrees that one can use in the real world. It’s tough and the competition is young and hungry. They ask questions and I think to myself, “they are so young and they have no idea what the world has in store for them.” I do find myself to be a better student than I remember. I’m more organized, more conscious of deadlines. I guess the work experience paid off. I think in this aspect, I have the upper hand. I am worried that I won’t get into my first pick law school (Loyola). But I am making every effort to reach that goal.
There’s a saying that I love and I think about it often as I am in the middle of these young whipper snappers with their “know it all” attitudes and low rise jeans and it goes like this… “El diablo es sabio por ser viejo, no por ser diablo” which means “The Devil is wise because he is old not because he is the Devil”.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
The Cheesecake Factory's Share Your Love Story Contest
The Cheesecake Factory's Share Your Love Story Contest: "Check out the Share Your Love Story Contest from The Cheesecake Factory for a chance to Win a Week In Hawaii. Enter now: http://bit.ly/aUid38"
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Another one bites the dust, swallows it, then throws it back up...
So, just when I thought I had a fat girl that I can relate to...a fat girl with style and charisma on both television and cinema... the rug gets pulled out from under me.
What the hell happened to America Ferrera?
You remember her, from "Real Women Have Curves" and "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants". Her career took off when she did "Ugly Betty" on ABC (you know the Anorexia Bulimia Channel).
Just look at her now!
Why did she "put down the flan?"
Betty could be Ugly but not fat?
Why, America, why?
I know what you're thinking…
"Karla, why are you hating on the people that lose weight?"
I get mad at the people that lose weight because of pressure to be thin in Hollywood, not people that have to do it for health reasons. America came on the scene chubby and now she's thin. She didn't lose weight for herself. She lost the pounds because she HAD to. How do I know this…simple.
If I were an actress, I would already come on to the scene thin because I know the way Hollywood is and what they expect. We read articles of these actresses all the time that are either super fat or super thin. Some actresses make both lists, i.e. Nicole Richie. If I enter the scene chubby, it's a way of telling Hollywood to take me as I am. A big, "F-You" if you will. I would not bow down.
When the chubbies of Hollywood bow down to the man and drop some pounds, they are only hurting themselves because they all eventually gain it back. Look at Kirstey Alley. She made her battle of the bulge public only to look like a fat ass again. Ricki Lake (the infamous yo-yo dieter) will fail too because she's on the prowl for a man now, but once she finds him, she will get comfortable and her ass will spread back to what it was. Star Jones is another one, but she looked horrible before and after. Even weight loss couldn't help that heffer! She shouldn't have married that gay man, because the gay man is body conscious.
These celebrity tubbies are hurting us regular people because when we relate with a character that looks good on screen and is obviously not thin by Hollywood's standards we then think that maybe we don't look as bad afterall. We start to feel like there are people brave enough to be over a size 4 in Hollywood. Then, these actors separate themselves from us by becoming part of the <4 crowd.
That is what pisses me off.
And then the media wonders why little girls are wasting away at a rapid pace.
What the hell happened to America Ferrera?
You remember her, from "Real Women Have Curves" and "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants". Her career took off when she did "Ugly Betty" on ABC (you know the Anorexia Bulimia Channel).
Just look at her now!
Why did she "put down the flan?"
Betty could be Ugly but not fat?
Why, America, why?
I know what you're thinking…
"Karla, why are you hating on the people that lose weight?"
I get mad at the people that lose weight because of pressure to be thin in Hollywood, not people that have to do it for health reasons. America came on the scene chubby and now she's thin. She didn't lose weight for herself. She lost the pounds because she HAD to. How do I know this…simple.
If I were an actress, I would already come on to the scene thin because I know the way Hollywood is and what they expect. We read articles of these actresses all the time that are either super fat or super thin. Some actresses make both lists, i.e. Nicole Richie. If I enter the scene chubby, it's a way of telling Hollywood to take me as I am. A big, "F-You" if you will. I would not bow down.
When the chubbies of Hollywood bow down to the man and drop some pounds, they are only hurting themselves because they all eventually gain it back. Look at Kirstey Alley. She made her battle of the bulge public only to look like a fat ass again. Ricki Lake (the infamous yo-yo dieter) will fail too because she's on the prowl for a man now, but once she finds him, she will get comfortable and her ass will spread back to what it was. Star Jones is another one, but she looked horrible before and after. Even weight loss couldn't help that heffer! She shouldn't have married that gay man, because the gay man is body conscious.
These celebrity tubbies are hurting us regular people because when we relate with a character that looks good on screen and is obviously not thin by Hollywood's standards we then think that maybe we don't look as bad afterall. We start to feel like there are people brave enough to be over a size 4 in Hollywood. Then, these actors separate themselves from us by becoming part of the <4 crowd.
That is what pisses me off.
And then the media wonders why little girls are wasting away at a rapid pace.
C.A.B.L. FUND
Let me preface this by saying this...
If we were all naked this wouldn't have happened.
So I'm watching an episode of "Rock Life" starring Cisco Adler. At first I am fascinated by this skinny, Well spoken, furry musician. He's got good stage presence and tight pants. Typical rocker right?
So who is this guy and how did Mischa Barton land him? Why was he all over the place in issues of US Weekly, Star and OK!? I am getting a little obsessed at this point.
So I go to the best source for celebrity gossip; the gay man. I happen to be hag to one of the best informed homosexuals on the planet! For privacy sakes, I shall call him...Lust.
I ask Lust...what do you know about Cisco Adler. Before I could finish pronouncing the "R" in Adler he says:
"He's got huge balls".
"Oh really?" I say "I like a ballsy guy, you know, brazen, not shy"
"No bitch" he sneered "I mean the guy has huge saggy balls".
"No way" I replied in disbelief and disgust.
"I've seen pictures on the Net. They're all over the place. I can show you if you want" he says.
At this point I've reached that whole Pandora's Box situation; do I see it or do I not and continue with my obsession like an ostrich with my head in the sand.
"Ok, show me" I say bravely with the tone I had when I got my first tattoo. Google is the devil.
Lo and behold (And I should say "LOW and BELOW") there he is. A pathetic vision in tube socks. "Those are the ugliest balls I've ever seen!" I declared. "They remind me of something you see on third world oxen." They were no so much huge as they were saggy(I don't want you to get an image of elephantitis or anything). No my friends, they were nothing but skin...like a fleshy pendulum waiting to hypnotize you and possibly break your nose.
I came to the conclusion as to why Mischa Barton is so thin and always has this "glazed over" look about her. After being with Cisco and taking a few balls to the chin, the bitch probably had her jaw wired shut once or twice. I hear this is an excellent but inhumane way of dieting.
My purpose is clear. Friends, I ask you to contribute to the Cisco Adler Ball Lift Fund. No one in our great country filled with so many medical advances should be subjected to this degree of sag. Maybe he could gueststar on Dr. 90210? I mean look at it! It looks like he has a pair of pink boxing gloves hanging from his dong!
I am happy to report that my 5 day obsession with Cisco has now stopped. I realized that the tight pants were not fashion but instead they served a medicinal purpose only. Nothing more dangerous than tripping on your balls while on stage.
If we were all naked this wouldn't have happened.
So I'm watching an episode of "Rock Life" starring Cisco Adler. At first I am fascinated by this skinny, Well spoken, furry musician. He's got good stage presence and tight pants. Typical rocker right?
So who is this guy and how did Mischa Barton land him? Why was he all over the place in issues of US Weekly, Star and OK!? I am getting a little obsessed at this point.
So I go to the best source for celebrity gossip; the gay man. I happen to be hag to one of the best informed homosexuals on the planet! For privacy sakes, I shall call him...Lust.
I ask Lust...what do you know about Cisco Adler. Before I could finish pronouncing the "R" in Adler he says:
"He's got huge balls".
"Oh really?" I say "I like a ballsy guy, you know, brazen, not shy"
"No bitch" he sneered "I mean the guy has huge saggy balls".
"No way" I replied in disbelief and disgust.
"I've seen pictures on the Net. They're all over the place. I can show you if you want" he says.
At this point I've reached that whole Pandora's Box situation; do I see it or do I not and continue with my obsession like an ostrich with my head in the sand.
"Ok, show me" I say bravely with the tone I had when I got my first tattoo. Google is the devil.
Lo and behold (And I should say "LOW and BELOW") there he is. A pathetic vision in tube socks. "Those are the ugliest balls I've ever seen!" I declared. "They remind me of something you see on third world oxen." They were no so much huge as they were saggy(I don't want you to get an image of elephantitis or anything). No my friends, they were nothing but skin...like a fleshy pendulum waiting to hypnotize you and possibly break your nose.
I came to the conclusion as to why Mischa Barton is so thin and always has this "glazed over" look about her. After being with Cisco and taking a few balls to the chin, the bitch probably had her jaw wired shut once or twice. I hear this is an excellent but inhumane way of dieting.
My purpose is clear. Friends, I ask you to contribute to the Cisco Adler Ball Lift Fund. No one in our great country filled with so many medical advances should be subjected to this degree of sag. Maybe he could gueststar on Dr. 90210? I mean look at it! It looks like he has a pair of pink boxing gloves hanging from his dong!
I am happy to report that my 5 day obsession with Cisco has now stopped. I realized that the tight pants were not fashion but instead they served a medicinal purpose only. Nothing more dangerous than tripping on your balls while on stage.
Men of Today
Today's social commentary comes from a "girl's night outing" on Friday to the infamous sausage fest called "The Yard House - Long Beach". Traditionally, the Yard House is a higher end sports bar with really good food, so the male to female ratio is always favorable...
My partners in crime all had their own agenda for the evening. I in my typical state was looking to make my friends laugh, maybe get a free drink, and as always, to have a few funny tales to recall the next day. I think all of the members of my High Heeled Posse had some sort of man trouble, my self included. But we were there to start anew. It was the first HHP outing of the year. We were starting out the year right by following one of my cardinal rules of going out with the girls; "Always go out in even numbered groups as men tend to flock in the same number too." For sure something was bound to happen, right?
Wrong... we walked in and the place was packed. There were groups and groups of men from all walks of life. They were huddled in tight little groups like chickens in a hen house. "What the hell is this?" I thought to myself "I hope it wasn't gay night." I had the feeling that not one single dude was going to be brave enough to approach us.
I have been off the market (dating-wise) for almost 10 years, so things were done differently in my "heyday". Back then, men weren't afraid to get rejected. Men were persistent. Men had balls. Men actually talked. What the hell is going on with the men of today? The age range I'm talking about is the 30 and younger crowd, which is the same age range of my friends. I am the geezer of the group at the ripe age of 36, but my god no wonder this slightly younger generation is hopeless when it comes to romance, chivalry, and love in general.
Did the men of this generation latch on to the proverbial teet too long? Did the single mother generation ruin the men of today? Single mothers have to play all roles in the home; breadwinner, disciplinarian, janitor, cook, etc... so are these nipple-latching men a product of the single mother syndrome? Are these men so used to having a woman do everything for them, that they also expect the woman to make the first move on the dating scene?
Case in point, the only men that even bothered to talk to us that evening were a group of Thirty-something dudes. They just walked right over to our table and struck up a conversation. They bought us drinks, took pictures with us,etc. We were all laughing and joking around by the end of the night while the flocks of chickens watch at a safe distance. Once we were leaving the bar, that's when the chicken coop began to stir but it was already too late because we were on our way out the door. What is the problem here? Did the "chicken coop" wait until the liquid courage kicked in?
I want to hear from those men, ages 29 and less. Why is it so hard to approach a table of good-looking, funny, intelligent women with no signs of silicone? We only bite upon request. As long as you keep your hands to yourself and you don't behave like a pervert or an asshole, there should not be a reason to be afraid to comeover and say "Hi".
Intimidation is a mother fucker.
My partners in crime all had their own agenda for the evening. I in my typical state was looking to make my friends laugh, maybe get a free drink, and as always, to have a few funny tales to recall the next day. I think all of the members of my High Heeled Posse had some sort of man trouble, my self included. But we were there to start anew. It was the first HHP outing of the year. We were starting out the year right by following one of my cardinal rules of going out with the girls; "Always go out in even numbered groups as men tend to flock in the same number too." For sure something was bound to happen, right?
Wrong... we walked in and the place was packed. There were groups and groups of men from all walks of life. They were huddled in tight little groups like chickens in a hen house. "What the hell is this?" I thought to myself "I hope it wasn't gay night." I had the feeling that not one single dude was going to be brave enough to approach us.
I have been off the market (dating-wise) for almost 10 years, so things were done differently in my "heyday". Back then, men weren't afraid to get rejected. Men were persistent. Men had balls. Men actually talked. What the hell is going on with the men of today? The age range I'm talking about is the 30 and younger crowd, which is the same age range of my friends. I am the geezer of the group at the ripe age of 36, but my god no wonder this slightly younger generation is hopeless when it comes to romance, chivalry, and love in general.
Did the men of this generation latch on to the proverbial teet too long? Did the single mother generation ruin the men of today? Single mothers have to play all roles in the home; breadwinner, disciplinarian, janitor, cook, etc... so are these nipple-latching men a product of the single mother syndrome? Are these men so used to having a woman do everything for them, that they also expect the woman to make the first move on the dating scene?
Case in point, the only men that even bothered to talk to us that evening were a group of Thirty-something dudes. They just walked right over to our table and struck up a conversation. They bought us drinks, took pictures with us,etc. We were all laughing and joking around by the end of the night while the flocks of chickens watch at a safe distance. Once we were leaving the bar, that's when the chicken coop began to stir but it was already too late because we were on our way out the door. What is the problem here? Did the "chicken coop" wait until the liquid courage kicked in?
I want to hear from those men, ages 29 and less. Why is it so hard to approach a table of good-looking, funny, intelligent women with no signs of silicone? We only bite upon request. As long as you keep your hands to yourself and you don't behave like a pervert or an asshole, there should not be a reason to be afraid to comeover and say "Hi".
Intimidation is a mother fucker.
OMG! Mary Kate weighs 80 lbs!
WHO GIVES A FUCK!
The media doesn't realize that they are the ones that are responsible for the body image problems in our country? OK, so MK weighs 80 lbs...she would get more media attention if she ballooned to 180 lbs. Nicole Richie is another example. Remember when she first starred in the Simple Life? She was a little thick, but she didn't look obese. She got static from the media, she was always in the worst dressed lists, etc. All of a sudden, the girl gets a stylist and drops about 50 lbs and she now one of the most stylish people. Now she's even thinner and all of a sudden, she's got anorexia. Will the media be blamed when these bitches starve themselves to death?
On the flipside, you got these "Big is beautiful" advocates that do nothing but advocate being fat. It's not OK to be unhealthy and overweight. Believe me, I'm overweight and I don't like it. But I will not prance around in a bikini and think that I'm all that. I've learned to accept myself just as is, but I'm not going to throw caution to the wind by eating everything I want because I'm already fat anyway. I think it's these "Camryn Manheim" type antics that embarrasses me more than my actual dress size. Maybe the skinnies have a point. Maybe this is why they starve themselves so that they don't have be lumped in a group with the "Big is beautiful" crowd.
Why are we so fascinated with the amount of fat a human stores? Isn't there a happy medium? I don't want to be the Nicole Richie, nor the Kirstie Allen who needed public acceptance by coming out on Oprah in a bikini. Why are we so focused on the body and not the mind?
I want to hear from the real people out there....
The media doesn't realize that they are the ones that are responsible for the body image problems in our country? OK, so MK weighs 80 lbs...she would get more media attention if she ballooned to 180 lbs. Nicole Richie is another example. Remember when she first starred in the Simple Life? She was a little thick, but she didn't look obese. She got static from the media, she was always in the worst dressed lists, etc. All of a sudden, the girl gets a stylist and drops about 50 lbs and she now one of the most stylish people. Now she's even thinner and all of a sudden, she's got anorexia. Will the media be blamed when these bitches starve themselves to death?
On the flipside, you got these "Big is beautiful" advocates that do nothing but advocate being fat. It's not OK to be unhealthy and overweight. Believe me, I'm overweight and I don't like it. But I will not prance around in a bikini and think that I'm all that. I've learned to accept myself just as is, but I'm not going to throw caution to the wind by eating everything I want because I'm already fat anyway. I think it's these "Camryn Manheim" type antics that embarrasses me more than my actual dress size. Maybe the skinnies have a point. Maybe this is why they starve themselves so that they don't have be lumped in a group with the "Big is beautiful" crowd.
Why are we so fascinated with the amount of fat a human stores? Isn't there a happy medium? I don't want to be the Nicole Richie, nor the Kirstie Allen who needed public acceptance by coming out on Oprah in a bikini. Why are we so focused on the body and not the mind?
I want to hear from the real people out there....
How the west was won...really
Long ago, when I had a friend, she and I went to the Temple Bar to see Quinto Sol. They are this great live band that plays in the LA area a lot and their shows are always fun. We were dancing and having a good time. Suddenly, next to me appears this beautiful long haired, dark skinned, young man. It was obvious he had indigenous roots and the way he was dancing I thought it was going to rain in the club.
So here I am, in my mind, getting ethereal about this dude. I watched him dance and I thought about how he was possibly channeling ancestors as dance is really the only way, in my opinion, one can lose himself in the moment (besides sex). I couldn't take my eyes off of him and he caught me watching him a few times. All he did was smile at me. He was perfection in movement.
Suddenly, this drunk ass white girl backs her ass into his crotch and starts grinding. The guy was so distracted that the perfection in his movement turned into an awkward mass coming to an abrupt halt. Like a gazelle running across a plain and then suddenly getting stuck in the mud or a graceful long-winged bird getting shot down while in mid flight or like having someone open the door on you while you were having sex...awkward right? You should have seen the look on the dude's face. He didn't know what hit him and he didn't know what to do. He looked at me like I was supposed to swoop in and rescue him.
Well needless to say, "Dances with Hoes" quickly figured out what he was supposed to do and reciprocated the grind. No longer was he that eagle soaring towards the sun. He became just another native, distracted by the white (wo)man and allowed her to take away his identity. I was reliving history and now understand how our land was stolen from us. Beware of the poon.
So here I am, in my mind, getting ethereal about this dude. I watched him dance and I thought about how he was possibly channeling ancestors as dance is really the only way, in my opinion, one can lose himself in the moment (besides sex). I couldn't take my eyes off of him and he caught me watching him a few times. All he did was smile at me. He was perfection in movement.
Suddenly, this drunk ass white girl backs her ass into his crotch and starts grinding. The guy was so distracted that the perfection in his movement turned into an awkward mass coming to an abrupt halt. Like a gazelle running across a plain and then suddenly getting stuck in the mud or a graceful long-winged bird getting shot down while in mid flight or like having someone open the door on you while you were having sex...awkward right? You should have seen the look on the dude's face. He didn't know what hit him and he didn't know what to do. He looked at me like I was supposed to swoop in and rescue him.
Well needless to say, "Dances with Hoes" quickly figured out what he was supposed to do and reciprocated the grind. No longer was he that eagle soaring towards the sun. He became just another native, distracted by the white (wo)man and allowed her to take away his identity. I was reliving history and now understand how our land was stolen from us. Beware of the poon.
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