Author: the outside lane

Happy. That about covers it.
Explaining the Strange Behavior, Family, Lancient History

Too Hot

the outside lane

One of my strongest recollections from childhood is of being overly hot.  It seemed like I was always hot.  Of course, what I am remembering is the heat in Granny’s house through humid, Alabama summers.  I am remembering how hot it was in her unairconditioned kitchen, and how she would stand over her stove sweating as she fried cornbread and pork chops in cups of Crisco, and cooked canned green beans to limp deaths.  It must have been ninety degrees in that kitchen, or more.

Most of my memories of Granny come with a sheen of perspiration across her upper lip.  It was hot.  I think she was only pretending to hate for me to slip ice cubes down the back of her pants.

Hot inside, we would go outside into the domain of the mosquito.  Since mosquitoes love nothing so much as a nip of me, I would be generously hosed down with OFF! bug spray, until I was tacky with the stuff, making the dirt from the mostly sand and soil yard cling to me–and forget trying to wipe the dirt off.  That just made bug spray mud.  

Granny’s porch wasn’t much cooler than the house, but at least sometimes the air would stir, or you could get up a bit of a breeze on the porch glider.

There was a window unit in my dad’s old bedroom, and Granny would turn that on for me, but I would still end up so hot that my sweat would stick me to the topside of the goldenrod, polyester bedspread.  It did help me develop the skill of being very, very still. 

See, in order to get full benefit of that window unit, I had to perch on the edge of the double bed on my knees, stretching my torso and neck up so that I could catch the cold air on my face.  Move an inch back or down and it would just blow the top of my scalp.  Move a fraction of an inch forward and I was in the floor.  Stillness.  Zen.  But not quiet.  I could medidate to the sound of a window unit air conditioner like most people can medidate to the sound of a brook.

I was thinking about that last night, lying awake under the ceiling fan, just a little bit too warm.  Texas is hotter than Alabama, but lacks the wet, wool blanket of humidity I grew up in.  And thank goodness.  I hate being hot.

movies, Reviews

Double Feature

the outside lane

Thor had a movie weekend, getting treated to The Pirates Band of Misfits in 3-D and The Avengers in plain old D.  Grandma and I took him to the former, and the latter was a BFamily outing.  I am happy to say I enjoyed both, though The Avengers has already placed itself as movie of the year for me.

Pirates, coming from the mastermind behind Wallace and Gromit is a good-natured morality tale about the importance of loyalty and friendship.  I adored the daft hero, voiced by Hugh Grant, and loved that the super villain was none other than Queen Victoria herself.  Thor laughed out loud several times, and so did I.  There was plenty of humor for the grown-ups, without breaking the 4th wall as the Shrek movies are wont to do.  We left the theater happy, and happy to talk about what we’d just seen.

We left The Avengers cheering, and Thor has gone to bed talking about what kinds of things he would smash, were he The Hulk.  Y’all, five minutes in and I leaned over to B yodeling, “This is everything I wanted The Hunger Games to be!  Why couldn’t Joss Whedon have directed that?!”

I clapped.  I cheered.  I squealed.  I scrunched up in my seat and said, “oof!”  I found myself sitting forward, hands on my armrests, eyes wide, mouth open, waiting for the next scene to come, and I thought, “I never want this to end!  Ever!”

Since I have nothing bad to say about the movie, I’ll just list my favorite things:

  1. RDJ and Goop have amazing chemistry.  Amazing.  I would pay to watch a movie that was just the two of them flirting with each other.  I would.
  2. RDJ.  75% of what was wonderful about this movie was Tony Stark, and 100% of what is wonderful about Tony Stark is RDJ.
  3. I love The Hulk.  I grew up watching the Bill Bixby tv show, and I was not disappointed by this movie version of the mild scientist you shouldn’t make angry.  And when Hulk smashes?  When Hulk smashed, my heart grew two sizes.
  4. The dialog was snappy and snarky, and just as well done as the engaging CGI.  It isn’t often that an action movie’s dialog can live up to the great action sequences, but you could have taken out the action and had a great movie, and you could have taken out the dialog and had a–  Actually, the dialog built the movie up.
  5. Joss Whedon.
  6. Thor and Loki.  I love everything about Thor and Loki.  Tom Hiddleston is a brilliant villain.  Chris Hemsworth is a brilliant dumb-jock-god.
  7. Everything about The Avengers.  Twice.  And again.

 

2the9s, Diet, Health

You Look Fat in That Body

the outside lane

I’ve written many, many posts about size and weight. I’ve written many, many posts about diets and fitness.  I’ve gone up and down between 3 sizes for the past four years, seemingly unable to break through the barrier to get down to the Lane Ideal.  Pfft.  Who am I kidding.  I lose interest in it and quit eating according to The Plan(s) and Fitnessing (when they say it is a lifestyle change, they mean it.)  If I stuck to it, I could do it.  I just don’t have the desire.  I know Kate Moss thinks nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she’s probably never had a Reuben from Schlotzky’s, Paneer Tikka Masala from Hot Breads, or Tacos al Carbon from Rosa’s either.  Those, my friends, those all taste better than a size 2 could ever make me feel.

Last night, I was at an event, standing with a group of people, wearing my new JLo dress with a smart shrug and fantastic jewelry, feeling pretty good if you discount the beads of sweat rolling down my spine in the Texas heat.  My hair was working.  My makeup was working.  I was feeling 100% pulled together.  As I was talking with several of my colleagues, a newcomer sharing in the conversation suddenly halted.  He put his hand on his chest and said, “From the first time I saw you [a month ago at another event], I thought you looked like that singer, Adele.”

I happen to think Adele is really beautiful, so I was opening my mouth to thank him so much, when he put both hands up, kind of moved them up and down indicating my torso and said, “But not because you’re… Uh… I mean to say… I hope that doesn’t offend you!  I don’t want to offend you!”

And then I was confused for a split second until I realized he meant he didn’t want to offend me by saying I reminded him of Adele because we are both blonde, blue-eyed and fat.

Adele at the Grammy’s in 2012. If you put me in those dresses, I would probably fill them out almost exactly as she does.

Of course I wasn’t offended at being compared to Adele, but the looks on the faces around me, and his hand flapping was a little embarrassing.  Was I supposed to have been offended?  Were my hips the elephant in the room?  I know what size I wear (my dress was a 14/16, by the way) and I know what my measurements are.  It isn’t surprising to me that no one confuses me for Katy Perry, who has the hottest body in music right now.

Katy Perry, who, when she is blonde, could be Adele’s conventionally hot sister. She has an amazing figure!

I am not ashamed of how I look.  I also don’t expect anyone to pretend I look like something I’m not.  The other day, I was asked whether I would attend a pool party if invited.  Well, sure!  I love pool parties.  But, the next question came, would you be willing to get into the pool?  Because some girls won’t wear swimsuits in public, you know.

That set me off laughing.  You can look at me in my day clothes and know I’m not going to peel off a fat suit down into a string bikini.  All I’m going to do is put on my old faithful Esther Williams suit and look like a slice of luscious cherry cheesecake, with some dimpled thighs for good measure.

Old faithful. My Esther Williams swimsuit. Photo taken a few years back–same size as I am today, though.

We put way too much weight on size.  Be who you are.  Be proud of who you are.  Don’t wait until you look a certain way to love how you look–or you never will.  Don’t wait until you look a certain way to be proud of yourself–or you never will be.

I’m pretty chuffed to be compared to Adele.  Now, if someone would just tell me my voice was as brilliant!

 
 

Uncategorized

Relationtips from Lane

the outside lane

What follows is my best relationship tip, which isn’t really a relationship tip at all, but a how-to-be-you tip.

I am not a romance for the sake of itself kind of girl.  I dislike romantic comedies, I dislike most chick-lit, I dislike gender roles, and a lot of tender gestures (of past boyfriends–I’m sorry Past Boyfriends!) go right over my head.  Notably, a PB got me flowers for Valentine’s Day and did this amazing, romantic reveal, and I got excited because I thought he was celebrating President’s Day, and how adorable was that?!  Who celebrates President’s Day?!  Adorbs!  The look on his face…I should have known right then that the relationship would end.

Anyway.  Not romantic.  However… 

When B and I got married, even though I am not truly the kind of girl who wants flowers for Valentine’s Day, or sleigh rides at Christmas (or at all because, horse poop), or orchestrated displays of affection that culminate with videos of me crying with joy on YouTube, I found myself getting angry, frustrated and feeling wounded that I wasn’t getting V-Day flowers, horse poop, or embarrassing commentary on the internet about how ugly I am when I cry.  And I became sulky and sad about it.

I also chastised myself over feeling sulky and sad because I knew B wasn’t a hearts and flowers guy when I married him, and it was wrong to expect this very pragmatic man to suddenly show up at my office with a barbershop quartet to perform the love song he’d written about how sweet my ankles are.  And since I didn’t really want that–good lord–I couldn’t figure out why I was so upset.

I’m a navel gazer, so I looked down into the scrying bowl of my bellybutton as I soaked in the bathtub and attempted to decipher my own behavior.  It wasn’t that I wanted flowers or grand gestures, it was that I wanted tangible proof that B was thinking of me, and the easiest translation of of that thought were the media approved tropes of FTD, Hallmark Moments, and the Kiss Cam.

Once I had figured out what I really wanted, I could ask for it and stop being so darned petulant.  And once I asked for the attention, I had to pay attention to what B believed was proof of his love and attraction for me, and I had to accept that for what it was–and I asked him to consider what I preferred and meet me halfway.

It took a while for me to retrain my sensibilities to accept tickle attacks, having wet hands wiped on my dry hair, and other aggravating overtures as B’s sincere offerings of adoration, and it took a while for B to retrain himself to send me mundane (or adoring) text messages and emails during the week.  And two Valentine’s Days have passed since then, with no flowers to the office, but I couldn’t feel more loved.  (Do feel free to send flowers to my office if you read this, Dear.  I don’t need it to feel loved, but I love it when I can scoreboard my coworkers with an IN YOUR FACE! token of desirability.)

My advice boils down to this:

  1. Figure out what it is that you really want.
  2. Ask for what you want.*
  3. Be ready to compromise to accept what your partner is able to offer (unless your partner is a complete troll and tells you to suck it, in which case, be ready to move on.)
  4. Do your part to model the behavior you want to see, and be patient.  The best relationships aren’t built overnight.  They are built over decades.

*For a long time I thought that if I had to ask for it, it didn’t count because it wasn’t organically inspired.  That only works if you are partnered with The Amazing Kreskin.  Tell your partner what you want.  Then, if they give it to you be a better woman than I was after my first meltdown that I didn’t get a Mother’s Day card and say, “Thank you,” and mean it.

Uncategorized

A New Dress

the outside lane

 

So…Kohl’s.

I never liked Kohl’s much previously, but since we’ve moved over to this side of town, I’ve had occasion to visit one a few times, and I’ve found something there every time.  I haven’t bought something every time because I don’t think too highly of their prices, but I’ve found things.  Tonight, because I needed a dress to wear to an event, I headed over there.  I tried on and really loved several things.

I ended up with this dress from the Jennifer Lopez collection, which really surprised me.  Not the dress, since I obviously liked it, or I wouldn’t have pulled it off the rack, but that this was Jennifer Lopez.  It’s so…me.

My new dress. I’m just Laney from the Block.

I absolutely loved everything in the Vera Wang line, and I am also ridiculously fond of the Lauren Conrad collection.  Unfortunately, I only needed one dress, and I won’t buy clothes I don’t need (anymore.)  So, I picked the dress I could get the most wear out of, and then found a handful of accessories to round it out.

A pair of gold earrings and a little gold bangle will set that off nicely, I think.

As a bonus, here is a partial shot of me in another of the JLo collection.  It was a one shoulder, print, mini dress that looked like it belonged on the set of a video filmed on the Golden Girls’ lanai–seriously, how can a mini-dress made by a woman so young, look so very, very old?  So of course I had to try it on.  Thor told me that he hated it.  “Of course not!” He cried when I asked if I should buy it.  When I asked why not, he said, “Because part of your body is sticking out of it!”

Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got. Because, in this ode to Blanche Devereaux, those rocks would be gallstones.