Entries in Womankind (99)


A Few Things On Mrs. G's Mind...With Text


Mild TMI dealing with a fugitive panty liner, but safe for work

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A Few Things on Mrs. G's Mind


Reproductive Rights: One Woman's Story by Anonymous


Monday Update

Bennett Sisters (LOC)

Mrs. G. is wrestling with some stuff she will share as soon as she can get it to sound good on paper. The last few days she feels like she wouldn't know a creative thought if it dropped down from the sky and landed directly on her shelf-like bosom, just waiting, begging to be plucked from her substantial CLEAVAGE. Speaking of shelf-like bosoms and substantial CLEAVAGE, is Mrs. G. the only one who has had a tortilla chip fall out of her bra when she took it off, or a rogue cocktail peanut? This isn't a rhetorical question. She's not is she? The only one?

Mrs. G's spent many hours this week trying to write the story of her beloved dog, Schnapps, who died thirty-five years ago, but she can't get it right. Just trust her, Schnapps was a good dog. We're going to have to leave it at that for now.

Mrs. G. begins working out with Derf Caro via Skype at 5:30am this morning. Once they have established a routine, Mrs. G. will plug everyone into the process in case they want to follow or play along.

Happy Monday, pals.  Not to be corny but today is the first day of the rest of our lives. Corny. But still. Look in the mirror and say something nice to yourself. Smile at a stranger. Oh, and your hair looks great!


Photo: Bennett Sisters [between ca. 1910 and ca. 1915], phoographer unknown, no copright.


you might want to grab a cup of coffee or a shot of tequila because this is going to take a while: the no stone unturned saga of what mrs. g. has been up to the last six weeks


Recovering: We should probably all hold hands and pray Mrs. G. never has to undergo surgery again, particularly with no time to wrap her head around the idea of being put under general anesthesia and cut open. She has made no secret she is lousy and ineffectual in any type of critical situation. Mrs. G. hesitates to admit that in the face of crisis, she is prone to hysteria but, truth be told, in the face of crisis, she is prone to hysteria. When confronted with an unexpected, scary situation, she often relies on the Four Fs: flap, flip, flit, freak. This weakness in her constitution makes her less than an ideal patient. She argued with the ER doctor, resolutely barked at explained to him she had no intention of having surgery until the Christmas holidays were over...cookies needed to be made, presents needed to be bought and wrapped, not to mention her daughter was arriving home in four days. The ER doctor (and Mr. G.) were unimpressed with Mrs. G's demands and while she can't prove it, she believes the nurse drugged her seconds after her frantic appeal just so she could shut Mrs. G. up.

And it did shut Mrs. G. up until the anesthesiologist woke her to explain how he was going to put her under and made the mistake of informing her there is always a small chance of a patient dying while under anesthesia. Mrs. G. grabbed his hand and asked him if he had ever killed anyone on his table and he assured her he had not. "Do you swear?" Mrs. G. asked. He swore. "Well then I'll see you on the other side," she said. Mrs. G. meant she'd see him in the recovery room, but the look he gave her after she said it was apprehensive, concerned and while she can't prove it, she thinks the anesthesiologist injected his intravenous cocktail sooner than necessary just so he could shut Mrs. G. up.

Mrs. G. is happy to report she finally feels like her old self, minus properly functioning stomach muscles. She is pain free though occasionally she feels a twinge in her belly button and briefly worries the surgeon unknowingly dropped her stethoscope or surgical hat in Mrs. G's gut before she stitched it up. 

Mrs. G. has warned longtime readers over and over that they do not want Mrs. G. on their lifeboat. Oh, she will pretend she is a courageous leader and, a child of Darwin, yammer on about her expertise and mastery of survival skills. She'll assure you she can catch fish with a strand of her hair. Do not believe her. Just nod your head like you do and gently shove her ass overboard.


Tea Light Candle

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Celebrating: The G. family Christmas was warm, cozy and relaxing...really one of the best ever.


A Case of The Rainy Day Blahs

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Mourning: Three weeks ago, Mrs. G. tripped over a throw rug and dropped her laptop on the hardwood floor. One of the corners shattered and the laptop is broken, dead. She kept it a secret for two weeks because she couldn't bear to admit her blunder. Less than two years ago she ruined her first laptop by spewing ginger beer on the keyboard--this means she has destroyed two laptops in approximately four years. Yes, she knows...how negligent and irresponsible! She spent the weeks mired in shame and periodically locking herself in the bathroom to cry. She has been limping along with her daughter's old laptop that weighs fifteen pounds and won't load Microsoft Office, which means Mrs. G. can save none of her writing and lives in hope Squarespace won't accidentally eat her post (especially this epic one) when she pushes "Save & Close." Mrs. G. feared her blogging future was in peril and while she could not make peace with that idea, because she was raised Catholic, she decided she needed to suck it up and accept her penance. Jesus would just keep a journal and be done with it.

She finally told Mr. G. what she had done. He, too, was raised Catholic but he believes in accelerated redemption and is less enamored than Mrs. G. with self-flagellation. Last night he ordered her a new laptop.


Free Cup of Coffee and Flowers at Daybreak Creative Commons 

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Abstaining: Every autumn, the change in light jump starts the downward spiral of Mrs. G's usually optimistic outlook on life. This autumn was no exception. Though Mrs. G. didn't plunge into a deep, debilitating depression, she felt funkier and bitchier than normal. One night in late December, she realized she was drinking her fourth glass of wine and didn't feel remotely tipsy. In an effort to feel better, she was hitting the sauce too hard. She decided to quit drinking until the dog days of summer require an icy gin & tonic. It hasn't been hard, but another vice bites the dust. When does it end?


 Bokeh Snow tree branches in Massachusetts blizzard Creative Commons

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Watching: Last week brought a beautiful snowfall. Many candles were lit and Mrs. G. will never again mock Mr. G. for his purchase of headlamps and a solar radio to have in the event of a power outage.


Free coiled tape measure healthy living stock photo Creative Commons

Photo by Pink Sherbert Photography

Facing Reality: After gallbladder surgery, Mrs. G. felt a tissue-like brush with mortality, particularly since it took her a good while to bounce back. For several weeks she felt draggy and old. She went in for a physical and, despite her best effort...la la la, her beloved doctor didn't mince words or let Mrs. G. use jokes or self-deprecation as a smoke screen. Mrs. G. is the heaviest she has ever been--she's 5'4 and currently weighs 227 lbs. She's can't predict your reaction, but she was floored, shocked even though the past few months her size has been (pun not intended) weighing heavily on her mind. She feels genuinely ready to place her health as priority one.

This isn't going to turn into a weight loss blog but Mrs. G. is going to put a category under the banner called__________(any suggestions) where she will document her, oh how she hates this word unless it involves a suitcase, journey. She will be working with a longtime derf who is a professional trainer who will contribute tips and support along the way. If you want to follow along or join the process, you are welcome. If not, just avoid that section of the blog. And uh uh, no matter how much you beg Mrs. G. will not be sharing pictures of her ass! She will be sharing photos of herself in work-out clothes and, trust her, she would rather poke a sharp stick in her eye. She can't afford to rely on denial any longer and if that's your game too, come with. Mrs. G. plans to track her process with photos, videos, honesty and humor. Perhaps this is being dramatic, but Mrs. G. is turning 45 next week and she would like make the changes necessary to live 45 more. Ninety is good.



Reading: Like a fiend (she loves this book, Donna). Mrs. G. gets a fair amount of email from people asking for book suggestions, so she's decided to also include a monthly "Book Log" section up top. She's simply going to list the books she's read and include a sentence or two containing her opinion. PLEASE feel free to disagree and argue with Mrs. G's mini-reviews. You've probably figured out by now she is a fan of spirited debate.

Mrs. G. also continues to read an reread all the cards and letters she unabashedly asked for you sent her when she was laid up. Really, she has to thank all of you again for your kind words (and photos!). Occasionally, when Mrs. G. is up late writing (like tonight) she wonders if it matters as much to others as it does to her. Who knew she had so many lurkers? Thank you lurkers (thank you, everyone) for taking the time to say hello. It truly brings Mrs. G. joy to know she gives you a laugh or two.



Waiting: For this guy to call.


This is hard question to ask. Please be honest (sign in anonymously if you like).


Mrs. G. recently read two books where both of the female protagonists were obese and their obesity (along with other, fairly standard relationship bullshit) was slowing unraveling their marriages. Mrs. G. didn't seek out these books. She unwittingly plucked them off the "new arrivals" library shelf. The similar subjects (though very different books) were a coincidence. Both books were difficult to read, and Mrs. G. had to put one of them down, she couldn't bear the obvious Eliza Doolittle-fication ending unfolding (more on that in a later post).

The question:

Do you feel a spouse/partner is justified in leaving his spouse/partner because she's become overweight, let herself go?

Mrs.  G. uses the female pronoun because she can't recall a novel where an overweight man was just seconds from getting his ass kicked to the curb. Nah, the John Goodmans, Tony Sopranos, Zach Galifianakises' are charming, fun and desirable to many.

HP Portrait Studiozach

In one of the books she read, this passage extinguished Mrs. G's beating heart for few seconds.

He'd (husband) omitted that on some deep level he wished she'd (wife) remain fat, because part of him--a small, black, ugly little part--he knew that he made her grateful for as little or as much as was convenient to give...she'd never have the confidence to leave him. He'd always be the center of her world--the only person she'd think loved her and thus all she'd ever know of love."

...if she wanted to have sex, she'd need to have it with herself. Not his fault. He was taken care of. She'd given him permission.

The cruelty (and staggering honesty) still make her shudder.

This post isn't a passive aggressive attempt to get Mr. G's attention--Mr. and Mrs. G. have these sorts of conversations (the hard ones that require brutal honesty) not all the time, but often enough to keep the relationship cranking. Mrs. G. is trying to figure out the motivation, courage and, more so, emotions of such a woman packing up her bags and heading to the Colony, to join the twelve other women Mrs. G. has placed there with her pen and paper.

Anyway, back to the original hard question:

Do you feel a spouse/partner is justified in leaving his spouse/partner because she's become overweight, let herself go? Speak from your heart and don't go all politically correct on Mrs. G.

And then there is this:


She Shakes Her Lovely, Classy Groove Thing


Who knew we had a hula dancing derf in the house and she is awesome!

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Friends Should Not Let Friends Wear Spanx