Tuesday, June 30, 2009


Hooray for Pay Day!!

I've been making a big shopping list over the last week--have you ever noticed how everything seems to run out at the same time? Well, it does for me--I needed so many different things.

It's a testament to my ability to shop for the best price, and my willingness to cut coupons and use them, that I got out of the store with all of this:

...for $120.

In this picture:

A 24-pack of toilet paper (which will last this single girl with one bathroom a good few months, at least).
A six-pack of paper towels
Two boxes of Kleenex
Dishwashing liquid
Dishwasher detergent
Laundry detergent
Clorox Clean-up
Cat litter
Cat repellent (to HOPEFULLY keep Little Dude from scratching my furniture)
A Kitty City jungle gym
Three bottles of water
Package of three wooden spoons
Two ice cube trays
Large Rubbermaid water bottle for the gym
Sour Patch Kids (an indulgence)
A new planner to replace the one that will be finished soon
A paperback book
Workout gloves (for when C. makes me use the pull-up machine. I get blisters)
Printer paper
Feminine hygeine products (I had a coupon, and like to stock up)

I rule the Tar-jay.

I also went to Payless Shoe Source in search of a cute wedge sandal. I've looked everywhere and not found what I wanted. Payless didn't let me down.

Can't go wrong for $19.99.

In other news, I got back from Mom and Dad's yesterday and found a package in the mail. My fellow Jezzies have been mailing a "magic" makeup bag around with little goodies in it. When "Trashy" got it, I was the 2nd person to send my address to her in the hopes of getting it next. Trashy sent me a consolation prize:

Trashy is a fellow Twilight nut, and my new hero.

The Check's in the Mail

I checked my mail yesterday, and found, to my surprise, an envelope from the Washington Educator's Association.

First, I only taught in Washington for one year, before returning to California.

Second, I haven't exactly kept in touch--so how they had my current address is anyone's guess. Social Security Number? Who knows?

Anyway, I was only mildly interested until I opened the envelope and found a check inside. MONEY! Oh, hell yeah! Turns out, there was a lawsuit and some kind of settlement. I won't go into too much detail, but the letter said:

"The amount of the enclosed rebate check is specific to you based on the number of years you worked and the positions you held while in a bargaining unit position between 2003 and 2007."

I taught one period of 6th grade choir every day, from September 2005 to June 2006. My share of the pie?

A whopping $4.40.

As my friend Janice said on Facebook, "That's a latte!"

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Tweet, Tweet

Gah. In a boredom-induced frenzy, I signed up for Twitter on Friday night. I'm still not sure what, exactly, the draw is supposed to be. I get a lot more satisfaction from Facebook.

So just call me a Tweeting Fool.

Saturday, June 27, 2009


That's me, today!

I'm house-sitting for Mom and Dad. Some friends that they've known for 40 years, Tom and Nita, are celebrating their 50th anniversary this weekend, so Mom and Dad flew to San Diego to help celebrate. Last night there was a big barbecue, and tonight is the big party. Mom was excited that she and Dad got to sit and talk with Mike Davis, a former head coach for the San Francisco 49ers. He is married to Tom's niece, and is, apparently, a nice guy.

Anyway, I'm in Lincoln, holding the fort down. It's not a very hard fort to hold--the most strenuous thing that is required of me is to keep the litter boxes clean, and the morning cookies doled out.

So I made plans to escape the loneliness of being in a huge house (okay, it's not huge, but it's twice the size of my apartment, so it feels massive) by helping out at my favorite farm, A Chance For Bliss.

I got up at about 7:30 this morning, and hung out three loads of laundry that I washed last night. Then I made an omelette for breakfast, put my hair in a ponytail, and slathered on the sunscreen. By 9:15, I was at the farm. Deanna was happy to see me, and I was happy to help out.

I helped put alfalfa cubes out for the horses to eat, and watched, laughing and directing traffic, as nine horses were transfered from the front pasture to the back, where breakfast was waiting. They know the drill, and they waste no time getting to the food.

Once they were munching, I grabbed a shovel and a bucket-on-wheels and set out into the front pasture to scoop up horse poop. It's physical work, but it's good work. I was sweating like crazy, but other than that, it doesn't bother me. Deanna said, "God love you," and I smiled and replied, "This smells a hell of a lot better than what I scoop out of the litter boxes at home."

And it's true. Cat poop is stinky--and their urine is even worse!

Once the pasture was cleaned up, there wasn't much else that needed doing, so I went back and groomed a few of the more mellow horses. Deanna and Woody were off to get hay, and though there were people in the house having a class, I am always aware that horses are not above getting spooked, so I'm cautious about being alone with them. I went to the back pasture, where the "mellower" croud hangs out, and acquainted myself with Hanauma (Ha-nah-oo-mah) and Stevie, two newer residents among the 21 horses.

Stevie is the most recent arrival, and he's blind. He was abandoned, and no one knows his back story. Still, he's a sweet horse, and he's bonded with Hana. Apparently, he hates leaving her side, and though she sometimes "hides" from him when she needs a break, she also freaks out when she is forced to separate from him. I approached them slowly, talking the whole time, and let them sniff me a little before scratching ears, noses and necks. They both let me brush them a little--mostly I just aimed to get the dirt and dried sweat off their backs.

I also paid some attention to Wilbe and Ranger, and my favorite old gentleman, Odie.

(Didn't get a chance to say hi to Zulu, the very lovely horse I rode last month.)

I didn't stay too long for the grooming--it was nearing noon and heating up. We're supposed to reach 106 degrees today. I got a little too spoiled by a cooler-than-usual June, so this heat is NOT pretty.

When I got home I left my shoes in the garage, then stripped in the laundry room and put my jeans, t-shirt and sports bra directly into the washing machine. Since then, I have showered, cleaned out the fridge (you're welcome, Mom), run a couple more loads of laundry, walked down to get the mail, and cleaned the litter boxes. I figure I'm due some lazy time, as soon as I hang up my sheets to dry (I bring my bed linens from my apartment solely to wash them here and hang them to dry on Mom and Dad's line because I love the smell of line-dried laundry).

It's been a very nice day!

Thursday, June 25, 2009

RIP Michael Jackson

In recent years, I have griped about how much attention he got--it was hard to think of him as innocent just because he was never convicted in a court of law.

But I also can't deny that many childhood memories are centered around the music of the 1980s--and Michael Jackson was, at that time, the King of Pop. Who can forget Thriller, Bad, Billy Jean? Who can forget the darling little boy with the angelic voice and huge afro singing ABC or I'll Be There? Certainly not I.

So rest in peace, Michael. May the demons you had in life leave you alone now.

The Way You Make Me Feel

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Eye Contact

Good ole 24 Hour Fitness. I spend some time there these days--and so do a lot of very fit men.

I'll admit, there is still enough of the old "I'll always be fat" girl in me that I sometimes doubt my own attractiveness to the other sex. I'm getting there. But after making the guy at Rasputin Music laugh a few times today, I was feeling pretty good about myself, so I strut into the gym and immediately looked up to make eye contact with--hmmm, not bad.

Not bad at all.

My usual response in this type of situation is to immediately look away--down, to the side, up, at my cell phone--anywhere but into the eyes of the guy. But not today. No, today, I continued to look.

He raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly--perhaps shyly? I smiled back, and kept walking, not breaking eye contact until we had passed each other.

Headlines From the LPB Register

What has been going on in the world of Meg of the LPB.

Interviews and Such

Last Thursday, I received a call from a local charter school (under the Aspire umbrella). They wanted to interview me for a K-8 music position. So Friday found me there, answering the standard interview questions. I think I did well, but we'll see if I get called to do a mock lesson for them--competition could be quite fierce.

Yesterday I recieved a call from a K-8 school withing my own district, and this morning from another one, so tomorrow I have TWO interviews (for classroom positions) within two hours of one another.

All this for someone who isn't yet desperate for a job.

If the Skirt Fits...

Or doesn't.

With all of these interviews comes a teensy bit of a problem: nothing fits. My interview outfit that served me so well last summer is TOO BIG! Love.

I managed to find a black skirt. It's way too big, so I cinched it at the waist and tucked it into my pantyhose. I wore a black sweater vest with the mock collar and sleeves combo. It's professional and its the best fit I can find in my wardrobe.


My neighbors continue to drive me batty from time to time. Yesterday there was some noise from the nearby apartment that likes to blast their Hoochie Hoochie Boom Boom music, but it didn't last long. I had my TV on, so I simply turned up the volume and did my best to ignore it. It stopped soon enough.

I have new upstairs neighbors, and they sometimes sound like a herd of wildebeest stampeding around. On Monday night I called security on them because they were partying hardy with their windows open in the middle of the night. Since then, they've been quieter.

Last night I was watching TV when, at 9:00, the power shut off. I looked outside and it looked like only my building and the one directly next to it was out. I could hear the lady who lives right across from me (our front doors face each other) talking to another neighbor, and shuffling off to look for the main circuit breaker.

Because it was dark and I was tired anyway, I went to bed. I had my bedroom window cracked open for fresh air and I could hear her telling the whole neighborhood what was going on after she called PG&E (Pacific Gas and Electric). Turns out something somewhere blew out, and other people to the east of us were without for several hours. They turned ours off, and later, other peoples', to fix the problem. I don't know when it came back on, but the contents of my fridge were okay this morning, and my clocks were blinking.

Thing about this neighbor, though, is that I could hear her as she stood outside of her front door, clear at the other end of my apartment from my bedroom. She is that loud. She seems nice, but she has a booming voice and is constantly yelling at her autistic son.

True Blood

A few months ago, I started reading the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris, and I just love them. I was vaguely aware of a show based on them called True Blood, but I couldn't watch it because I refuse to pay for HBO (I just don't watch enough TV to justify the expense). So I've been patiently waiting for them to come out on DVD.

Well, they're here, and I'm hooked. They're different from the books in some ways, just just as engaging.

So that's what I've been doing this week--curling up on the couch watching True Blood.

Crazy Cat Lady

Mom and Dad are going to SoCal this weekend to help some old friends celebrate 50 years of marriage, so I'll be in Lincoln babysitting the Kindergatos. I'm going up after my 2nd interview tomorrow, and coming back on Monday next week.

While I'm there, I hope to see the HS girls spend some time at A Chance For Bliss. I've offered to come over on Saturday to shovel horse poop.

Lunch with a Ninja

On Sunday, I drove to Walnut Creek to meet a fellow Jezzie named Marie. Her commenting name references ninjas, hence the whole "lunch with a ninja" thing. We had a lovely meal and a long chat--she is just as awesome in real life (former teacher with war stories!) as she is in the Jez world. I hope to get together again soon--and also with another gal we know, who was unavailable this weekend.

And that's it. I've been kind of lazy the last couple of weeks, but that's been necessary after the extra-long school year I had.

More soon.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Window Cats

Today I drove up to Lodi to visit a used bookstore and take a look around. I picked this particular bookstore off of a list on Google because it seemed the most established used bookstore I could find, it was the only one that had its own web page, and it boasted having two store cats.

I love store cats. Store dogs, too.

They didn't disappoint. As I approached the front door, I found a snoozing feline in the window display.

I only saw the one cat while I was there. I got about sixty dollars in credit for some books I took in, and took home a used book for my collection.

When I came home, I found another darling cat in a window, enjoying the sunshine and ignoring her snotwad little brother, who was on the back of the sofa when I walked in.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Guess What?

I don't give a flying Harley poop what is going on with Jon and Kate Plus 8, or whether or not they are divorcing.

I'm bored to tears by all the news updates about Jon and Kate, or Spencer and Heidi, or Lindsay and Samantha. I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ABOUT THEM!

I don't want to know. And yet, every other headline seems to be about these attention-whoring, public-mooching, BORING people.

This, my friends, is one reason I watch so little TV.


I feel better now. Thanks.

Plum Tired

I've been re-reading Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series in eager anticipation of tomorrow's release of the latest installment. Stephanie is a bounty hunter in Trenton, New Jersey--and not the best bounty hunter, either. She's always getting into crazy scrapes, and her reputation for destroying cars is legendary.

I am not a bounty hunter, just an unassuming music teacher--one who only asks for a good night's sleep and a somewhat peaceful apartment complex.

One who is not getting what she wants this summer. If you've been keeping up with this blog, you'll have seen a few agonized posts, in which I scream and implore my neighbors to turn the music down, not broadcast their fights to the whole complex, and keep an eye on their kids. You'll have heard about the TWO times random children have come up to my open living room window and scared the crap out of me (not to mention Millie and Harley) wanting to talk.

And you'll know that management is getting to know me very well because I complain--a lot.

Last night, I climbed into bed at about 11:00, with Stephanie's ninth adventure, "To the Nines," in hand. I settled back onto my pillows and got comfy. Then I heard:


Oh, good! The obnoxious car stereo. I've heard them before (many times) and I know that other people have complained to management about the car stereos at night. What no one has done, however, is supply management with a license plate number.

I crept out of bed and peeked through my blinds. I could see a sporty silver car backing into a parking spot--it was the only car moving out there and the stereo was pumping away.

It was 11:15 at night.

I walked out to my living room and grabbed a few important items. I waited a couple of minutes and then set off on my sleuthing adventure.

Armed with a Little Miss Sunshine notepad, a DVHS pen, pajamas and pink plaid garden clogs, I set out into the parking lot under cover of darkness. I squeaked a little as I ran down the path and realized that the sprinklers water more than just the grass (no wonder it's soaked out there every morning). I stayed in the dark as much as I could creeping the roundabout way behind the dumpster, over to the shadow of another building, before creeping back and quikly jotting down the license plate number and the make/model of the car (a silver Nissan Pro6, if you're curious).

To be safe, and avoid having someone see where I live, I walked all the way around the back of my building, across the grass, and towards my front door from the other side. I locked myself back in and went straight to bed, satisfied that my mini-adventure might just pay off in getting my obnoxious noisy neighbors a good telling-off from management.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


If you have any doubt about what is going on in Tehran this weekend, here's a sobering bit of reality for you:


I post the link, not the video, because I want to give my readers a choice about whether they watch it or not. The video is disturbing and heartbreaking. It shows a young woman who was shot while she stood, quietly watching the protests with her father.

I saw a blurred-out version of this on the TV news yesterday. The uncensored version is making the rounds on the Internet today.


On Dads

I have always been thankful that I have the dad I have. The man who helped raise Meg of the LPB is a good man, a generous man, and through the years, he has taught me a lot of good lessons. As a tribute to him on Father's Day, I'd like to share the best and most memorable ideas and pearls of wisdom I've received from Colonel Cooper.

1. Don't let you alligator mouth get the best of your cardboard butt.

Dad is particularly fond of this one. I have learned that sometimes, shutting up and thinking about your response to someone is better than blurting out the first thought that comes to mind. You avoid a lot of bad vibes this way, and also avoid volunteering for that job no one else will do.

2. Diplomacy is a good thing.

My dad has been president of a few organizations in his time, including the Folsom High School Band Boosters, and currently, the Veteran's Group in his community. People like him because he is a true diplomat. He allows people to share their ideas about something, and then calmly, nicely replies with what could work, and what might not, using examples from his personal experience. I've watched him in action. He never strikes a bad idea down with, "That won't work. Next!" He allows for discussion (within reason) and makes the person who had the idea feel validated. That way, they'll come to the next meeting and continue to offer ideas and input, instead of quitting the group in a huff of "No one listens to me!"

3. Cooper Rule Number 1: Try not to be a pain in the ass.

This one speaks pretty clearly for itself.

4. There's no crying in baseball!

Okay, so he stole this wonderful little line from "A League of Their Own." He picked right up on that when he saw the movie years and years ago, and has made it a line he uses on me--a lot. When I have struggled with stress and anxiety, the first people I turn to are Mom and Dad. Dad never allows me to wallow in the anxiety, but instead tells me, "There's no crying in baseball. Tomorrow, go in there and get the job done. No one wants your tears." And he's right. This also leads to the next pearl of wisdom...

It's not worth getting upset over unless someone is dead or dying.

When I freak out over the small stuff, Dad likes to remind me that no one has died, and no one is terminally ill. In other words, it's okay, stop freaking out, and fix the problem.

5. Someday, when you go to college...

Mom and Dad both never used the words "if" and "college" in the same sentence when talking to me (or about me). It was always, WHEN. There was never a doubt in their minds that going to college would be a reality and necessity for me. They never told me to just grow up, get married, and have babies. Of course they wish love and family for me--but on MY terms, and when I'M ready.

Dad watched how the divorce rate in our society was rising and knew that his daughter would need to have job skills--a career--to fall back on, should she get married and then divorced or widowed. He knew that women need to be ready to survive on their own.

So college was never an "if." It was always a "when." And he and Mom whole-heartedly supported my goals. For example:

6. "Have you ever thought about studying abroad?"

Dad is a retired military man--he had twenty-one years in the Air Force and retired in 1986 as a lieutenant colonel. His career took him to Okinawa, Guan, Thailand, the Vietnamese air space, Germany, Turkey, Spain and beyond. His career is the reason this diehard California Girl was born in Nebraska.

He knew that travel is a good thing--that seeing the world and expanding one's world view are important factors in anyone's education. So, at the beginning of my junior year of college, he brought up the idea of studying abroad. He asked what kind of programs Chico had. I mentioned London Semester. Then Dad uttered the words that would change the course of my life:

"If you set it up, I'll pay for it."

Four months later, I was on a London-bound 747, and my life has never been the same. See, the thing is, I had never thought about studying abroad until Dad brought it up. He planted the seed, and because of that, I have lived in England twice and been unafraid to travel the world ever since.

7. "We will never judge you."

This one is really BOTH of my parents. When I was about 14 years old, they sat me down and we had The Talk--all three of us. Dad didn't bow out from male embarassment and leave it to Mom.

They told me they think sex is something that belongs in a loving, committed relationship, but they also understood that as I got older, I might be tempted to try it for myself. With or without the love and commitment part. They told me they hoped I would never have sex with a guy just to please him or keep him--it should be something I do because I want to, period.

They told me they would hate to see their daughter get pregnant as a teenager, or get an STD, because they believed I had so much ahead of me to do and achieve. So they told me, if I really, really felt that I needed to have sex with someone, to please come to them--they wouldn't berate or judge or try to talk me out of it--they would just prefer I have access to birth control. "We will never judge you," they told me. "We love you."

I've never forgotten that discussion. They never told me, "DON'T HAVE SEX." They made the decision mine, and told me they believed in my ability to make the right choice for myself--at 14 years of age.

That, my friends, his how you talk to a teenager.

There are so many things I've learned from Dad, but the most important words he has ever said to me are:

"I love you."

"I'm proud of you."

Happy Father's Day, Colonel Cooper. I love you, too.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Lazy Summer Afternoons

Scrapbooking, artichokes steaming on the stove (a favorite of the summer vegetables) and two sweet, sleeping kitties. Life doesn't get much better than this.

P.S. Don't let Mr. Orange Creamsicle fool you--he's a hoodlum.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Where's Meg?

Sorry 'bout that. My automatically scheduled Fat Girl posts ran out. I'll make a few more soon. In the meantime, I've been a scrapbooking, movie-watching, Keane-listening fool.

I set my folding table up in the living room. I had to push the couch back to make room, and now my entire front room (living, kitchen, "dining") seem to be taken over by scrapbook projects. I could work in my 2nd bedroom but I like watching TV as I work.

So I'll be back to my regularly scheduled blogging soon. I really don't have a tremendous ammount to write about right now.

Oh--except that I have a job interview tomorrow! It's a charter school under the Aspire schools banner, and it's here in Stockton. It's a K-8 music position...and we all know that my heart is really in teaching music. I could do the self-contained classroom route, but if I have a chance to keep teaching music, AND stay in Stockton, well, I'm going to jump at it.

So we'll see.

And now, my Keane Live in Concert DVD calls, as does the mountain of pictures, stickers, fancy papers and glue sticks. I'm on a roll.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 10: Lula

What can I say about Lula? I'll leave the descriptions to her creator, author Janet Evanovich:

Lula--A black woman with a rubenesque body and a Vegas wardrobe that’s four sizes too small. She’s a former ‘ho working as a file clerk at Vinnie’s office and wheelman for Stephanie.

An interview with Lula helps us get to know her a little more:

What's your favorite word? Booty
What's your least favorite word? pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis
What turns you on? Beckham underwear ads
What turns you off? Not being able to get a fast food cheeseburger before 11 AM
What's your favorite sound? Me bustin' down a door
What's your least favorite sound? Forks scraping teeth
What profession, other than your own, would you like to attempt? Letter turner for the Wheel of Fortune
What profession would you not like to attempt? Snake wrangler
What's your favorite curse word? Damn Skippy
If heaven exists, what do you want God to say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
"We're sending out for pizza. What do you want on yours?"

I've been rereading the Stephanie Plum series by Evanovich recently (#15 is out on June 23!!), and it was Lula who inspired me to start this whole Fat Girl Blogging thing in the first place. If you are enjoying this series, you can thank Janet and Lula.

Why Lula? Because she is completely comfortable in her own skin. She doesn't think she's sexy--she knows she is. Lula is not one to hide in a corner, ashamed of being a big girl. Nope--she's the one on the dance floor, shaking her big booty and having a grand time.

We could all learn from her.

There are no pictures of her, but one fan did suggest, that if a Stephanie Plum movie is ever made, Mo'Nique should play the part of Lula. I couldn't agree more. This picture is exactly how I envision Lula in my mind.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 9: Doris Murphy

Doris Murphy is a character from A League of Their Own, played by Rosie O'Donnell.

I'm not a big fan of Rosie in real life, but I love her character in this movie, Doris Murphy. Doris is a bigger girl, and a lot less traditionally feminine than the other girls. One memorable part of the movie has her explaining to another character why she stayed in a bad relationship, just because he was the first guy to look past the tomboy, good-at-sports exterior and actually see her as a woman.

In that moment, she thinks about it, and decides she shouldn't settle--there are too many better things for her. So she tosses his picture out the bus window with a simple, "So long, Charlie"

Doris proves that bigger girls aren't just fat, lazy slobs. She's athletic and strong, a devoted teammate and friend.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Yay For Reactions!

I'm so pleased with the positive reaction to my Fat Girl Posts. I have two more scheduled, and more photos, so I'll have to write more soon. If I've missed any of your favorite fat girls, let me know in the comments. It might be that I've already got them scheduled to go, but then again, maybe I've missed some.

Also, on a different topic...

Yay! Another Donor's Choose project has been funded! My Magic Carpet Ride proposal closed today, and I will have a huge green carpet in my classroom, for the teenies to sit on during music time. Now, if I can get my other project (drums and percussion instruments) funded, I'll be a very happy woman.

The best part? If I change jobs, the materials paid for on Donor's Choose go with me. They're MINE to use in any teaching job. Awesomeness!

Caution, With a Slightly Higher Dose of Optimism

I went by the offices of the Stockton Teacher's Association today. I had a list of questions and was feeling the need for an update on my status. Here's what I got:

1. What's going on with the court hearings?

It seems the judge has recommended that all employees who got a pink slip in March remain pink-slipped. This is good news for me, because if she had decided that the district could redo the whole process, my butt would be first to go.

2. How much notice would I get if I get a pink slip in August?

The union prez simply didn't know--we've never come to this point before.

HOWEVER. She followed this up with two heartening statements:

a. Human Resources has told her that they do not "anticipate" having the need to give August pink slips.

b. If they do decide to do a second round of lay-offs, they MIGHT have missed a crucial deadline date this month, and will not be able to lay people off in August anyway...which means Yours Truly remains un-pink-slipped and, more importantly, EMPLOYED.

3. How is it looking as far as reassignment?

I could definitely be reassigned. So no surprise if I end up teaching first grade or something.

The bottom line: They can have me teaching 8th grade language arts. I don't care. I'll be EMPLOYED.

(Notice that the key word here is "EMPLOYED?")

So things are looking a bit more optimistic for me. I'm not out of the woods yet, but the closer we get to school starting, the more likely it is that I will have a job this next year.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 8: Bridget Jones/Renee Zellweger


I miss chubby Renee.

I found her to be much cuter, much more attractive, when she was "fat." I put that in quotes, because, by my standards, Bridget Jones is NOT fat. But by society's standards, she is. Her alcohol content and tendency to eat whatever is in the cupboard don't help.

Briget is my Everywoman. When I first saw the movie, I thought, "Oh. My. God. They just made a movie about me!"

Resolution #1: uggg - will obviously lose 20 lbs. #2: always put last night's panties in the laundry basket. Equally important: will find nice sensible boyfriend and stop forming romantic attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, workoholics, sexaholics, commitment-phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits, or perverts. Will especially stop fantasizing about a particular person who embodies all these things.

Cue Hugh Grant. Or any of my ex-boyfriends.

And Bridget posed that all-important question...

Major dilemma. If actually do, by some terrible chance, end up in flagrante surely these would be most attractive at crucial moment. (holds up thong) However, chances of reaching crucial moment greatly increased by wearing these scary stomach-holding-in pants very popular with grannies the world over.

But...if Renee wanted any sort of career in Hollywood, post-Bridget, the weight would have to come off. Alas! It's the way of Hollywood...and it's a crock, if you ask me.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 7: Mia Tyler

Proving that her skinny sister Liv didn't get all the good genes is Mia Tyler, daughter of Aerosmith's Steven Tyler and plus-sized model. She launched a line of plus-sized clothes earlier this year, called Revolution 1228.

There's not much to it yet, but I love that her site uses real plus-sized women, not the "plus-sized" models we're used to who are actually size 10. The women on her site have spare tires, huge thighs, and double chins--just like other ladies who happen to be size 16 and above.

And Mia? She's gorgeous--in both of these shots.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 6: Queen Latifah

Camryn Manheim said, "Years ago women of my size were considered royalty." And now we have Queen Latifah.

Queen Latifah kicks butt in so many ways--she started her career as a beatboxer, then moved into rap/hip-hop, acting, and vocal jazz.

Latifah's work in music, film and television has earned her a Golden Globe award, two Screen Actors Guild Awards, two Image Awards, a Grammy Award, six additional Grammy nominations, an Emmy Award nomination and an Academy Award nomination.
Source: Wikipedia

Not bad for a fat girl. Not bad at all!

Friday, June 12, 2009

Friday Night Awesomeness

I love scrapbook days with Summer. First off, I always get a ton of scrapbooking done, and we feed off of each others' creativity. Second, we catch up on all the news in each others' lives.

And sometimes, we do crazy-fun stuff. Like have dinner at John's Incredible Pizza, which is what results when Fresh Choice and Chuck E. Cheese get together and have a kid. On the one hand, it has a salad bar and good pizza--and there's enough Skee-Ball to keep me happy for days.

In the end, we had a ton of tickets and some laughs. Who else is going to help me indulge my inner 8-year-old?

Quote of the Day

"I get more naked this season than I did last season. We have a really great crew and everyone's really respectful. It's not an issue for me… [But] I work my ass off. I'm very careful about what I eat, and I work out a lot. My costume entails bathing suits, short-shorts and nude scenes, come on! I don't want to be perpetuating the myth that women actually do look exactly like the way they look in magazines and on television through absolutely no effort!" — Anna Paquin on True Blood.
[E News]

Thank you, Anna! Honesty is refreshing.

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 5: Camryn Manheim

I know that she has since lost weight (and good for her, from a health standpoint!), but Camryn Manheim jumped out at me when I was thinking of fat girls to post about, because I'll never forget the title of her book, "Wake Up! I'm Fat!"

But in researching this post, I found a whole host of awesome quotes attributed to her:

• Handsome, thin, sophisticated men often fall madly in love with larger women, we just never see it on TV.

• I hate overweight, because it implies that there's a weight standard I should be adhering to.

• I've always thought of fat as just a descriptive word.

• Instead of hating, I have chosen to forgive and spend all of my positive energy on changing the world.

• It's okay to be a fat man. It's prestige and power and all of that. But fat women are seen as just lazy and stupid and having no self-control.

• On The Practice, I get to do what I love to do, and I am making a contribution that will, in the end, help raise social consciousness, dispel some of the myths about being large, and change the way that people view and interact with large people.

• So instead of beating myself up for being fat, I think it's a miracle that I laugh every day and walk through my life with pride, because our culture is unrelenting when it comes to large people.

• When I meet large women who walk with confidence and are articulate and really have an understanding of how they walk in this world, I love them so deeply for being able to overcome such unbelievable odds.

• Years ago women of my size were considered royalty.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

This and That

Dear Stockton PD,

Thank you for being so nice to me, and responding so quickly to the noise complaint. Maybe now I can get some work done.

And yay! No panic attack. I managed to calm myself down. Maybe I won't have to become a recluse in Montana (where at least it's QUIET!) after all.

Sincerely, Meg of the LPB


Note to self: Next time you're on the phone, don't turn your back on your salad. Harley, the little hoodlum, will steal chicken with, apparently, no remorse.

Dear Neighbors,




Meg of the LPB

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 4: Susan Boyle

If you haven't heard of Susan Boyle, it's okay. Don't worry. Just crawl back under your rock and keep hibernating.

I kid, I kid.

Susan Boyle is, of course, the cheeky, frumpy middle-aged woman who sashayed onto the stage of Britain's Got Talent and had the whole world mock her--until she opened her mouth.

Why did they mock her? She's plump. Her hair isn't perfectly-styled. It was so easy to dismiss Susan Boyle because she wasn't some sexpot pop tart. But Susan has two things those pop tarts don't--a voice. And humility.

It's the classic reminder to all of us--don't judge a book by its cover. Take a look inside first.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Who Knew? The Haggin Museum

Shortly after I moved to Stockton, I started exploring the Internet, looking for things to do. I came across the web site for the Haggin Museum, and decided that it was something I needed to see.

But you know how it goes--work and gym time, chorale obligations and social stuff. With its limited hours of operation (Wednesday through Sunday, 1:30 to 5:00), it was difficult for me to find time to visit the museum. A few days ago, it occured to me: I'm on summer vacation. I have all kinds of time on my hands right now.

So today, I went to Haggin Museum. And it was marvelous.

It is set in a large park. I stopped to make sure they had all their ducks in a row.

The museum was built by the Haggin family, the patriarch of the family (I can't find his name mentioned on the web site; I'm recalling information a docent gave me this afternoon) was a prominent San Francisco businessman who had interests in Stockton. He decided Stockton should have a museum, and so the Haggin Museum building was built, and the collection started. It includes the largest collection of Albert Bierstadt paintings of any museum, anywhere.

Bierstadt (1830-1902) was an American painter known for his landscapes of the American West. Here's a couple of his paintings that are on hand at Haggin Museum:

Sophistication by Harry Wilson Watrous:

Still Life by Paul Gaugin (Gaugin! In Stockton!!)

La Toilette by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (Renior!! One of my favorites!! IN STOCKTON!!!)

The Nymphaeum (Nymphs Bathing) by William-Adolphe Bouguereau

The Far Hill by Jan Monchablon (I loved this because it looked almost like a photograph; the detail was amazing)

Some interior views:

And the resident mummy, who has resided at Haggin Museum since the 1940s, and who will return to his owners, the San Francisco Fine Arts Museums. Iret-net-Hor-irw is quite a popular presence in Stockton, I guess. I didn't know him well, but I might go to the special Mummies and Martinis event hosted by the museum to learn more about him.

I took a picture of a cute sign that says "Thanks for the Mummeries" but it was too dark in there, so it didn't turn out.

I made a quick run through the San Joaquin history portion of the museum--I was running low on time by then--stopping to take pictures of the man Stockton is named for...

...and a replica of Benjamin Holt's Experimental Shop.

Benjamin Holt invented the Caterpillar tractor, and now has a street named after him. It's a mouthful, Benjamin Holt Drive. It is mostly residential, but also has a small grocery store called Marina Market, a McDonalds, and a 24 Hour Fitness. It also happens to be my address.

I will definitely go back to this little gem of a museum. I have been to the Smithsonian, the Vatican Museums, the British Museum, the National Gallery of Art in London...these are fabulous museums, indeed. But I was enchanted by this small collection, put together in Stockton, of all places. The current special exhibition is African Art (alas, no pictures allowed!). Soon, there will be a special exhibition on Henri Mattisse.

Not bad for a cow town in Central California.

Beautiful (FAT) Girls, Part 3: Marilyn

Let's face it: by today's ultra-thin standards, Marilyn was a Big Girl. Hips! Thighs! Butt! Boobs! She had 'em.

And she is still considered one of the hottest women to ever walk the planet. Okay, so she wasn't known for her brains, or for crusading for women, but all these years after her death, we still point to her and think, "ooh, sexy."

"I am involved in a freedom ride protesting the loss of the minority rights belonging to the few remaining earthbound stars. All we demanded was our right to twinkle."