Yeah, it’s January and I’m still posting pictures from Halloween. Your point is….?

And now for another update on 2012’s Project 365….


Day 305 (2012-10-31) ~  Halloween night, Wednesday dressed up as Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas, Scope was Jack Skellington, and I was Oogie Boogie.  Here's Sally and Jack heading out to go trick-or-treating.





Day 306 (2012-11-01) ~  Our pumpkins, all baked by tea-light candles, the day after Halloween.





Day 307 (2012-11-02) ~  *sigh*  I got an emergency call from Wednesday at school.  She had broken her glasses in PE class.  Somehow I hadn't expected it to be quite THIS bad!  (Oops.  This was taken on the 1st, not the 2nd.  My bad.)





Day 308 (2012-11-03) ~  Wednesday and her friends in a limousine on her 16th birthday party.





Day 309 (2012-11-04) ~  This was Wednesday’s family party for her Sweet 16.  I can't believe I'm the mom of a 16 YEAR OLD.  Seriously, where does the time go?!





Day 310 (2012-11-05) ~  When all else fails, draw a picture of your thick-skulled, non-listening, jackass-y nemesis on a left over birthday balloon…. and then beat the shit out of it!!!!  That’s a valuable coping tool Wednesday picked up this particular week in November, which she found to be extremely satisfying!  :-)





Day 311 (2012-11-06) ~  And the winner is….





Day 312 (2012-11-07) ~  We picked up two new Halloween decorations this year.  I figured they deserved to star as picture of the day once before being shoved away in storage!





Day 313 (2012-11-08) ~  Since changing the clocks, my walk to meet Scope after work is A LOT DIFFERENT.  Soooooooo dark and kind of creepy.





Day 314 (2012-11-09) ~  This is a partial shot of a Harry Potter display item I bought on eBay.  I owned one when I lived in Seattle, but I got rid of it (along with a TON of other stuff) when I moved to Chicago, and I always regretted not keeping it.  *sniffle*  I wanted to replace my long-gone one, but I couldn't find one for sale online anywhere, then suddenly there one was on eBay for MUCH cheaper than my original one!  I bought it and when it arrived I was thrilled—it was in even better condition than the one I originally owned.  Sweet!





Day 315 (2012-11-10) ~  My old skool 1970's Mickey Mouse doll.





Day 316 (2012-11-11) ~  This was the night that Wednesday discovered the joy of Jiffy Pop!





Day 317 (2012-11-12) ~  So, you leave Wednesday alone for a couple of hours in the house with a camera, paint, and some clay, and look what you'll come home to:  A stop-motion/claymation movie in progress!  WOW!





Day 318 (2012-11-13) ~  There was one spot of light snow on the ground at the park this morning.  ONE spot.  There was no snow to be found anywhere else.  Weird.





Day 319 (2012-11-14) ~  Out of time and out of ideas.  This was just a super-quick shot of some red leaves and a street light in the dark as I was running to the train station.





Day 320 (2012-11-15) ~  Blue light special?….  Anyone?…. Anyone?….





Day 321 (2012-11-16) ~  Yep.  We ran to several stores to stock up on Hostess cakes the day we heard they went out of business.  This was what we managed to hoard.  Mmmmmm.





Day 322 (2012-11-17) ~  Just a shot of some flags I saw while taking a walk through the local community garden.  (Taken on the 18th, not 17th.  My mistake.)






That’s it for today, but the rest of the project is on the way soon….






© Coracabana

I’m going to be just like Elaine with the sponges, I just know it! (Are you Twinkie-worthy?!)

I hit four stores to stock up on all things Hostess-y (and mourn my childhood) since I heard they went out of business this morning.  Did you?!


*sniffle*






© Coracabana

Yeah, 'Cuz THIS Is What You Want To Come Face-To-Face With When You're Driving Home On The Freeway, Right?! Yikes!

Relax. It was being towed. But still, it was pretty creepy looking!

© Coracabana

Skinny

Personally I think people of all different sizes can look fantastic. There’s no prerequisite that someone need fit in a certain size pants to be beautiful, handsome or sexy. In fact, often I think the heavier version of someone is far more attractive than his or her thinner version. Like Carrie Underwood. Or Victoria Beckham.

I know I often pout and whine on and on about the 15 or so pounds I’ve put on in the last two years (I’m going to go right ahead and blame that on the fact that I eat REAL dinners now, instead of cups of applesauce and saltine crackers like I used to on that old single mom’s budget of mine) but, really, I’m okay with it. They’re just thighs. Okay, they might be bigger thighs than they used to be, but it’s not the end of the universe. Mostly.

And I still have great hair, dammit!

Some women put a ridiculous amount of pressure on themselves to be skinny. They’re brutal. It’s almost like they think they’re worth nothing if they aren’t a size 0. (Or maybe it’s exactly like that, I dunno.) They take their “thin-spiration” waaaaaayyyyyyy too far down a very dark, dangerous (and hungry!!!!) road.

I know a woman who has been anorexic for 40 years. Let’s call her Joann. Joann is very blunt about her anorexia. She talks about it totally openly. She’s not shy about it at all. She flat out tells me, “I’m anorexic,” rather than making up some cutsie nickname for it, like ‘Ana’ or ‘Rexy’ to make it sound less horrible.

Joann and I have had several conversations about her anorexia over the 12 years I’ve known her. When she talks about it, she acts like it’s impressive or an achievement. She’s actually kind of proud of having starved herself for 40 years. I’ve never understood it.

According to her it started when she was a teenager. Most of her family members were overweight and she became determined to escape the “fat gene,” so she started restricting herself to only one “meal” a day (usually something junk food-y like a few onion rings or a piece of pie) and nourished herself the rest of the day on a strict diet of Pepsi, coffee, beer and cigarettes.

That’s what she has survived on for 40 very hungry years.

Her weight has fluctuated a lot. At one point she was down to a frightening, skeletal 70-something pounds. She never really has much energy and she looks a lot older than she actually is.

Or was.

Joann died last night from cancer. Even with multiple surgeries and chemotherapy, the cancer ran rampant within her because her body was too weak and malnourished from 40 years of starving to fight. There was nothing more the doctors could do.

Joann was in her 50’s. She leaves behind a son, three grandkids she will never get to see grow up (one who is less than a year old and will have no memories of her), a house full of cats, and a big mess for her grieving son to deal with…. and all because she wanted to be skinny.

To everybody out there who is unhappy with their body, can you do me a big favor today? Embrace your curves, your thunder thighs, your beer belly, your badonkadonk butt, your double chin, or whatever body part is ticking you off! Love those imperfect parts even if it’s just for today, because there are far, far worse things than extra pounds.

Definitely.

I think Joann got that in the end. I heard that her last request in the hospital was to pig out on ice cream. I don’t know if that is funny or really sad. It makes me feel both things at once, honestly.

I know this song has nothing to do with death (more likely a fight) (or drugs) but it always kinda reminds me of troubled souls being set free. I imagine Joann drifted away across the universe last night and is in heaven right now where she can eat all the ice cream she wants to without fear or guilt or worry. Joann, this one is for you….

© Coracabana

Oh Baby!

So, we spent Thanksgiving weekend at Scope’s parents’ house where there’s this—this—hey, wait a minute…. Have I ever bothered to describe Scope’s parents’ house to you before? Hmm?….

No?

Oh. Huh. Well, lemme try to paint a mental picture of it for you: it’s simultaneously an antique hunter’s heaven, a garage sale guru’s jungle gym, an eBay excavator’s bouncy house, and a thrift store surfer’s wicked wild wave. How’s that for summing it up? ;-)

The house is bursting full (FULL) of old collections. We’re talking dolls, buttons, skeleton keys, pins, photographs, figurines, books, plates, linens, artwork, and all kinds of other antique-ish goodies and treasures. You could spend a week exploring in there and still not see it all, I swear! It’s really quite something.

The doll collection sits posed around a chair on the recreation room floor near the couch where my daughter sleeps when we are staying there. Gwen has outgrown dolls, of course, but she doesn’t mind sharing the room with them.

Except for this one:


I’m told his name is “Little Brother.” He looks perfectly innocent and harmless, right? Absolutely. Yet for some truly mysterious, inexplicable reason he frightens the living heck out of Gwen. She actually has panic attacks when she sees him. And there’s no use throwing a blanket over him or turning his back to the room or anything like that, no, no, no, because just knowing he is there is enough to freak Gwen out.

We’re talking about a 14 year old girl here. A 14 year old girl whose room at home is full of skeleton figurines and black bats hanging from the damn ceiling! So, I’m having a little trouble seeing what is so terrifying about a baby doll.

Aren’t you?

I mean…. it’s not like he watches you, unblinking, in the shadows with a sinister stare….


It’s not like his depraved eyes follow you across the room as he plots his evil plans….


It’s not like he lingers closer…. and closer, licking his vile lips while you change your clothes….


It’s not like he has a terrifying temper and an axe to grind….


It’s not like he climbs soundlessly into your bed and leans over you, maliciously smirking while you sleep and startles you awake when you feel his foul breath on your face….


It’s not like his unholy hand lunges out and grabs you as you scream and struggle to get away….


It’s not like he has a perverse taste for human flesh and the last thing you’ll ever see is Satan reflected in his eyes….


Nope. Nothing like that. He’s just a baby doll. Sweet dreams, Blogaritaville.

:-P

© Coracabana