YOU HAVE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL FACE!!       

When I married my Husband, I weighed 118 lbs.  Needless to say, I have "broadened my horizons" since then.  In today's terms, I am a METABOLIC UNDERACHIEVER or you might say I have achieved MAXIMUM DENSITY.  Any way you slice it...I am living large!!

For years I blamed my weight problem on Baby Fat...but by the time I was 22 years old that excuse just would not hold up.  I had my first Child, Debra,  at 23 years of age.  David was born when I was 28, and Mike when I was 30...so for a number of years I could blame being pregnant as the root cause of those extra pounds.  The "being a Mother" excuse was beautiful...as a Mother I had to bake brownies and chocolate chip cookies for them, and Pizza and midnight Krystal runs were a bonding tool between my teenagers and Mother of the Year...ME.  It was only after my Children grew up and moved away that I had to face the startling TRUTH about the real cause of my weight problem...it had been Darrell's fault all along!!

After all, it is through bearing him three beautiful Children, cooking his meals, having to snack on glazed donuts while worrying about him traveling alone on the road to Revival meetings, and being forced to eat out at wonderful restaurants while traveling supportively at his side, that I picked up those extra lbs. and stubborn Cellulite.

I have been on every diet I have ever heard about.  I once fasted for 10 days drinking only liquids.  I lost 12 lbs, but almost ate my sunglasses because I desperately needed to chew.  I went on a carrot diet that turned my skin bright orange.  I went on a diet where you ate according to your body type.  It began with your standing in front of a mirror and determining your body type.  This so depressed me that I went on a 3-week binge and gained another 8 lbs.  I tried going to weight reduction meetings with other hefty folks, but all that talk of food only made me hungry.

I wish I had a nickel for all the times someone has said to me..."You have such a beautiful face!!"  I used to think this was such a compliment until I realized that what they are really saying is...EVERYTHING SOUTH OF THERE IS THE PITS!!!!

Now, I just tell folks I am taking something that is making me swell...I get instant sympathy.  What I don't tell them is that what I am taking are twinkies and hot fudge cake!!

Speaking of twinkies...I have a friend whose daughter works in the Emergency Room of a local hospital.  She called me the other day and said she just had to tell me this story since I am always joking about eating twinkies...it seems a grossly obese lady was brought into Emergency with chest pains.  In examining her the doctors found a twinkie hidden in the folds of her skin!!! 

My first question was..."How did she let one GET AWAY???"  I may lose my keys, and forget my children's names, but MY TWINKIES ARE NUMBERED!!!!!!!!!!

I read the other day about a new diet pill that was being tested.  When they tried it on laboratory rats the rats lost 30% of their body fat.  This sounds great to me!  I can't wait...even if we grow hair and crave cheese...BRING IT ON!! 

FREQUENTLY FLYING
Many times as I have traveled through the years people sometimes express the thought that "jetting around" the Country must be such a wonderful and exciting way to live.  As a frequent flier, I feel I can give some insight into the excitement of Air Travel. 

First, the ticketing...why you have to go SOUTH to go NORTH is still a mystery.  And then there is check-in where instantly you (after paying $400+ dollars for the privilege) become a suspect of any and all heinous crimes.  First, you throw your luggage on a belt two feet high while maintaining your dignity and clenching your ticket between your teeth.  Enroute to the gate counter, you lay all carry-ons down on a conveyer and lose all your loose change and your sunglasses.  After removing your shoes, being X-rayed, searched, questioned, eyed with suspicion, and relieved with contempt of your fingernail clippers, you press on...

Next, you arrive at the gate counter line where you check in once again and get seat assignments and wait for that all-important announcement that tells you when you are allowed to wait in yet another line to board.  Finding your seat is next.  You try to look casual as you peruse the numbers.  Great, 17D is...the center seat.  Here is where Charm School training comes in!  After vaulting over a 425 pound man working on a laptop, I am wedged into 17D which undoubtedly was designed for someone with 17 inch hips.  Successfully stretching the seatbelt to its farthest point, it finally hooks and I am in...nestled between another 200 lb. man and Mr. Laptop.

I pause to reflect that I don't think I have ever been this close to a man except for my husband.  But, I just want to keep a low profile and act like the world traveler that I am.  The fact that I still have my coat on and am holding my purse and carry-on bag is a dead giveway.  No way to move right or left, but I can still stretch out my feet and  perhaps all will be well.  As we taxi down the runway and then take off, and just as I experience a feeling of well-being and begin to exhale, the seat in front of mine comes bounding back and a man of middle-eastern descent to whom I have not even been introduced is now laying in my lap!  All kinds of questions come to mind...such as...How long can your feet survive without blood circulating to them?  How will I ever stand up again? How do you read Arabic?  It is at this point that a baby in the seat behind me begins to cry...I don't blame her one bit!!

After explaining the flotation devices and oxygen information (neither of which I could reach from my location inside the "Men Pod") the Stewardess comes around with lively reading matter...your choice of "Business Week" or "Computer Software Solutions."  I refuse this tempting offer so I can continue to reflect on surviving this flight.  Next they ask for our drink order.  I meekly order Diet Coke and melt as my seatmates order a whiskey and a gin and tonic.  What could possibly be worse than 650 lbs. of men crowding me, you ask?  Answer...650 lbs. of  drinking men.

I arrive at my destination feeling stapled, folded and mutilated, but thankful to be there.  Seeing Darrell waiting for me at Baggage Claim makes it all worthwhile.  But still...I almost feel the need to confess something!!!