funnytheworld2.gif (4077 bytes)

 

 

 

NO PEANUTBUTTER WITH THIS JELLY

30 May 2002

"...a thin, burst-proof liquid-filled membrane that permits two surfaces to glide smoothly over one another."

No, I wasn't ambling down the aisles of The Pleasure Chest, checking all the sex toys.

"The constant motion of liquid provides flotation to greatly reduce pressure points, eliminate friction, and absorb shock before they can be transmitted to the soft tissues of the body."

No, the Astroglide Salesperson hadn't just left the office, leaving behind a box of samples for us to give out.

"HFS is liquid padding comfort."

I was reading the label that came with my new queen size padded biking shorts.

I arrived home from The Farmers' Market tonight and there was a package from the Junonia catalog hidden behind the five gallon jug of water under the box with the envelope with new work from the Psychiatrist hanging on it.

It was a zillion degrees outside and I'd been walking around downtown at the market and back to the car, which I'd parked several blocks away (now that I'm such a jockette, I didn't mind the walk). I'd been munching on sweeter than sugar organically grown strawberries as I drove home in David's clunker car, without air conditioning. The sweat was pouring down my forehead and stinging my eyes.

I had forgotten I'd ordered these biking shorts; I was still waiting for some regular loose shorts from Just My Size, so I immediately went into the bathroom and stripped off the hot slacks I'd been wearing and ripped open the Junonia package, thinking I'd put on something cool.

But there it was: My biking outfit. Padded bike shorts and a lightweight jersey to wear with it (guaranteed to "breathe"). My commitment to continuing to bike. With all the toys and clothes I've bought thus far, I'm in it so far financially that there's no turning back now.

I tried on the shorts, watching all the cellulite bumps rippling as I pulled them up. They felt definitely...different. Haggie described feeling as if a you're riding on a maxipad. I can understand.

Before I took up biking, I had no idea that biking shorts were more than just skin tight spandex. I had never heard of "liquid membranes" and never thought I'd be looking forward to something to pad my already naturally amply padded derriere.

But on the first long bike ride--the 12 mile trip I took with Haggie several weeks ago-- even though I was seated on what Secra describes as "Butt-D-Luxe," a big plushy ol' bike seat, my butt still did its fair share of complaining about abuse. It's grumbled a lot since then and it's never entirely let me forget that 12 mile ride. (How many of you have conversations with your butt?)

So I don't care if my cellulite jiggles or my butt looks silly with a liquid membrane stuffed inside, if it makes the butt stop complaining, it will be worth the price. I can hardly wait for the next Boob outing.

The biking shorts weren't the first new clothes I'd worn today. When I got out of the shower, I went through my new routine once a week or so--trying on "outgrown" clothes. Each time I do this, I find more things I can wear again.

About eight years ago, I bought an electric blue pattern blouse. I loved the color and I thought it might almost fit.

It didn't come close.

I thought I might be able to wear it as kind of a layered look--find something white and pretend I really meant for this to be kind of a loose fitting jacket.

But I couldn't get my arms through the sleeves.

Today it went on as if I'd been wearing it forever. And I looked good. It was just exactly the way I'd hoped it would look. The perfect color for me. I got the lovely slacks that Peggy sent for Christmas and tucked the blue blouse in and I was very pleased with the look. I was feeling so good about the way I looked that when I had to stand up and give a 30 second talk at LeTip today, I didn't even stammer or trip over my words--Mercury retrograde or not.

There was no time to change into cooler clothes after work, before I met my friends Sam and Coco at the Market. Both women raved about how good I looked. We sat on the cement steps listening to the high school band and talking about life, love and everything else, and then we walked through the market, buying berries (me) and cactus (them) and ended up at the Gay Pride table where Ellen and Shelly both asked me why I was so dressed up and told me how good I was looking.

It's so unusual to get this kind of attention. I loved it.

I wonder if they'll think I look as good when I start waddling down the aisle with a maxipad in my backside and cellulite peeking out from underneath the spandex.

Quote of the Day

Hope is a thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
and sings a tune without the words
and never stops at all

--Emily Dickinson

Picture of the Day

p16417.JPG (7745 bytes)

(No this isn't me -- yet)

One Year Ago
Bev Slept Here

Two Years Ago
Rude Awakening


signmyblack.gif (1825 bytes)
Powered by SignMyGuestbook.com


funnycrap.jpg (4649 bytes)

 

 ;scale.gif (2974 bytes)
Pounds Lost:  56
(this figure is updated on Tuesdays)

bloggerbutton1.gif (721 bytes)
diet blog


<--previous | next-->

Journal home | bio | cast | archive | links | awards | Bev's Home Page

476

Created 5/30/02