Trout Pout

I've never had plastic surgery. I've never been injected with Botox or had anything surgically implanted into my chest.

I think I'm in the minority in my town. I went on a mommy's-night-out awhile ago and it dawned on my during dinner that there were more women at the table with breast implants than without.

Yikes!

My new gym membership has also provided a quite a view into how prevalent plastic surgery has become. I saw a woman in the locker room who had the scariest implants I have ever seen (and that's saying something since my mom had the old-school-hard-as-a-rock silicone implants) they puckered on the sides and left her with vaguely square shaped breast. Yowza.

But truthfully, I'm not trying to be judgemental when it comes to all the plastic surgery out there. When the most beautiful women in the world go under the knife, how is Ms. Average (like myself) supposed to feel? Take Elizabeth Hurley for example. I can't think of a women with more natural beauty, but she has become one of the many to inflate her lips into what has become infamously known as the "trout pout." And apparently Jessica Biel and Lindsay Lohan have followed suit. (I could mention the Paris Hilton pic, but do I really need to bother?)

The "trout pout" is the one the few forms of plastic surgery I haven't seen among my peers yet, which surprises me a little given what I have seen. My mom alone had implants and and eye job. I've had many friends get implants, lipo, Botox and the occasional tummy tuck.

If this seems excessive, remember, I live in California.

And I have personally felt the pressure to get plastic surgery. Prior to having kids I had a great figure-- super flat tummy, great ass-- but no boobs. I had a boyfriend who made not-so-subtle hints that I should get a boob job and I think my mom wouldn't have exactly frowned upon it. I'm glad to say I didn't cave to the pressure and ditched that boyfriend. This proved to be a good thing since childbirth brought me from and A to a C cup. Sure I have some extra cushion now and the abs aren't what they used to be. But I'm comfortable in my skin and plastic surgery isn't likely to improve upon that.

Like I said, I don't mean to be judgemental. If someone has a nose they don't like, by all means, get it fixed. But I gotta say, all this craziness over trying to stay young just doesn't seem to be working. Have you noticed that all celebrities running around with massive amounts of surgery seem to look worse? I mean, hello, Burt Reynolds? Joan Van Ark?

I hope we're just on the upside of a pendulum swing in the direction of plastic surgery that will wane on the down-swing. I sincerely hope that people will begin to realize that living healthy is the best means toward looking good. That gastric bypass surgery, lipo and face lifts are likely to only be a short-term fixes.

But I doubt it.

Nonetheless, I think mother nature is going to keep trying to tell us to leave well enough alone. I think we're going to keep seeing ridiculous looking celebrities trying to deny the effects of father time to disastrous effect. If we'll only bother to learn the lesson.

Me & Tina Fey

Have you ever had those moments when you decide to radically change your look? If you're a woman you probably do.

Last week I decided I was tired of being blond. I don't know why, but it seemed like time to go brunette again.

That isn't such a big change, but then I realized I needed glasses. I've been wearing contacts for over 20 years but they started bugging my eyes, so I needed to switch to glasses. I have an older pair, but they're the rimless style and very boring to me.

So I decided to go for some Nerd Chic and do the Tina-Fey-dark-framed things.

What do you think?

And no, I can't take a picture without the camera showing. I'm retarded when it comes to taking a pic while holding my arm out. I need a mirror.

And what about my artistic side view? You think you know what I look like but you wouldn't recognize me if you saw me face on-- since I'm not really blue and all... At least that's what I tell myself.

But the change is good. My husband gets to pretend he's going to bed with another woman and I can hide behind my glasses. We both win.

Checking My Ego at the Door

I got a gym membership.

I've been sweating it out running at 5:30 in the morning and that was surprisingly okay. Except my knees didn't think so.

I've been running for eight years and frankly, my knees are more than just a tad angry. I notice this the most when I sit in my recliner to play Guitar Hero. After amazing myself with my manual dexterity and masterful playing skills I will shift in my seat to gear up for my next virtuoso performance and notice that my knees have locked into place.

That kinda hurts.

So I was forced into thinking of another way to get some exercise and really, the only thing to do was sign up for the gym.

I've learned a couple of things.

First, I am in better shape than I thought. It turns out I'm pretty darn strong. When you sign up for the gym you get three sessions with a trainer and I am pleased to say that I can lift a lot of weight. This, I am sure, is because my 40lb son still insists that I lug him around all the time and that little sack of potatoes has given me some pretty strong arms and legs. Not only that, but running all the time has given me great endurance. I can do an hour long cardio kick-boxing class and not collapse on the floor.

Secondly, I have learned that I am in worse shape than I thought. I have done karate for years and that does involve standing in front of a mirror for an hour straight. But in karate we wear a little outfit called a gi, and those gi's are pretty baggy. At the gym there are lots of women running around in little gym outfits that prominently display their midriff and their oh-so-buffed arms. Me? Not so much. I am about the same size as Tyra Banks without the massive hooters and I have shoulders like a line-backer.

I don't think I'm going to be wearing a tank top to the cardio class again soon. I don't think my ego can take it.

Hmm, I Can't Decide if Winehouse Was Good or So So

Yes, I watched the Grammy's just so I could see Amy Winehouse.

Of course they put her on near the end. I wouldn't be surprised if they Grammy coordinators were sweating it the whole time. You know they had it organized so they could put her on in a moment's notice in case she threatened to bolt.

I can't help but feel bad for this poor thing though. Did you notice how many times she mentioned her husband Blake (her "Blake incarcerated") during her performance? I noticed at least 2 during the songs. There just seems something a little desperate about that. She also looked like she was too frail to stand up on the stage.

I hope she gets help at some point. There's obviously some talent there, just a tortured soul to go with it.

Me and My Shadow

I haven't had a dog in a long long time. I've always been a cat person. Cats are ideal for me because they don't ask for much. Most cats I've had mainly just demand food and the occasional leg to attack, and they're good.

Dogs on the other hand....

I mentioned before that I inherited a small ball of poodle fluff named Sassy. Sassy is the first dog I've had in awhile. We briefly adopted a dog about 6 years ago, but when she decided she was the alpha to my husband and started baring her teeth we spun her little hind-end around and out the front door real quick (on the advice of our local SPCA who promised to try and find a home for her without children). My daughter likes to say that Bear (the dog) "had issues."

So Sassy.

She is cute as can be. A little 8 pound fur ball that follows me everywhere. I don't think that I am usually a klutz. Well, maybe a little. But lately klutzy is my middle name. Every time I turn around to do anything, Sassy is there, entwined between my feet ready to lick her little heart out. (Let me tell you, that dog can roto-rooter your nose if you're not careful).

I hardly know what it's like to walk without a dog underfoot anymore. Walking down the stairs is now an acrobatic routine that I pray won't end up with me in a cast or a broken neck.

But oddly, I kind of like have the little fur-ball underfoot. I've never had a dog attached to me like this before. Growing up, our dogs usually took to my mom or my older brother. The cats usually liked me best but they never felt the need to follow me to the bathroom for a game of catch.

Yep, it's a whole new world.

But Do We Really Know Who They Are?

I've been blogging for almost a year and a half and for the most part it's been a really positive experience. I've become acquainted with a lot of great people and for me, it's been a good outlet and way to socialize when I'm feeling overwhelmed with being a stay-at-home mom.

But like anything else blogging can be abused-- if that's really the appropriate term. Over the last couple of days I've noticed something on two blogs that I regularly go to; appeals for money. I don't have a problem with people making money off of their blogs. I've toyed with the idea of doing PayPerPost so I could raise money for giveaways on my other blogs. There are several blogs that I respect who advertise and earn all kinds of money. I have no issue with that.

What I don't like is blatant appeals for money using a sob story of some kind. The fact is, I really don't know these people and have no idea if I'm being conned or not-- and let's face it, they're more than likely being dishonest.

One blog in particular caught my attention. The blogger (who shall remain nameless unless I find out for sure there is any wrongdoing going on) is one of those who has had ads and donation buttons on her blog for some time-- no big deal. But about a week or so ago she decides to put up a post about some pyramid-type business she's doing and wondering if anyone is interested in joining. Okaaaaay. Her credibility is dented a bit but not irreparable.

But then yesterday she puts up a post about her ailing grandparents and how they need money for meds and so on.

Am I wrong to be suspicious?

The post is all touchy-feely, sweet and certain to pull at the emotions. But is it real? I have no way of knowing. I do know, due to her gushing gratitude, that over $4000 has been raised by donations on her blog.

Granted, the people who donate are doing so of their own free will and they have the ability to question the credibility of the story as much as I do. But still, I have a feeling they're being conned.

Another blog has an appeal for money to help a young girl leave an abusive situation and go back home to her mom. There's pictures of the trailer she lives in and everything!

Yeah, I'm not buying it.

Sorry folks. No donations from me. I'll take my money directly to my local receiving home if you don't mind. It's nothing personal. I just don't know you people. Really.