The Pinkapalooza Project

So my little blog that’s sweeping the nation has been inundated with pictures of Pinkishness from every corner of the globe. Pinktober literally has it all. Cheerleaders! Snack foods! Sugary beverages! Office supplies! Did I mention the cheerleaders??? Oh yeah, I think I did.

But that’s not what today is about. Nope. Today, we start putting forth images of some of the billions of items of pink crap – I mean, Inspiring Messages of Hope – that are out there in Pinktober, and hopefully not at any other time of year. Well, except for some of them, which are too cute for words, and which I want, desperately (have I mentioned that I’m so not above being bribed? I think I have.). So to sum it up, we have three categories for the Pinkapalooza contest.

The Hall of Fame: the cute Pinkishness stuff that any sane person would want to add to their collection

The Hall of Shame: the stuff that’s so insulting that it calls for an outraged letter or two, or just a blog-based smear campaign

The Hall of WTF: the stuff that’s so bizarre and inexplicable that the people who came up with it must have been on very heavy psychotropic medication, for years

We’ve already had some of the entrants on here – who can forget the Glowsticks, generously doled out by Dr. Fine’s office, aka the Plastic Surgeons to the Stars? And then there was the Delta Flight Attendant Horror, burpling elbow flesh and all. So those won’t be repeated here, but certainly, they’re still in the running. Right now we’re focusing on new entrants.

And so, without further ado, and in no particular order, we start with the latest Hall of Fame entrants:

1. Turtles for the Cure, by Jennifer P.

Imagine my delight and surprise when I received the following in the mail one day:

Yes, chocolatey-caramely-nutty goodness, also known as Turtles! And even better, festooned with those cheerful pink ribbons. Hell, I don’t care what they festoon it with – it’s chocolate. Sent by my dear friend Jennifer Pick, a college roommate who paints the most amazing artwork that will get its own blog post soon. But in the meantime, it can be said about Jennifer that she understands the concept of “Tasha likes free stuff.”

2. Harmoneeeeeeeeeeee, by Alert Reader Jen H-S

Of course, my first thought upon seeing this was to ask, WTH? Is this a cartoon character? What the heck exactly is a Harmonee?

Then I learned the following:

Every year since 2001, Chevron has presented a Special Edition Chevron Car to raise awareness about finding a cure for breast cancer. This year, Chevron is proud to introduce Harmonee, the 10th edition in a long line of Special Edition Chevron Car designed to raise awareness about finding a cure for breast cancer. Harmonee reminds us that a cheerful nature and willingness to help can go a long way to help support those fighting against breast cancer.

Chevron and your local dealer are proud to contribute all net proceeds from the sale of this special edition toy car to promote the early detection of breast cancer. The folks at Chevron thank you for your purchase of Harmonee.

And then the only thought in my head was this: WANT. Especially since the cheerfulness of little Harmoneeee will give me, the Cancerous, all kind of Hope in my fight against BC. Just like a shiny Mylar balloon, squeaking away, so too will Harmonee spur me to fight on. Courage.

3. Liverwurst for the Cure, also by Jen H-S

Fountain Hills, AZ is apparently ground zero for all sorts of Pinkishness, the kinds of things that those of us here in the Midwest aren’t privy to. I guess the stores here are anti-Cure or something, because *I* sure don’t see anything like this at MY deli:

What’s especially touching about this is the juxtaposition of the Boar’s Head For The Cure balloon, by the one for chicken breasts. Brilliant, just brilliant.

4. Real chips For The Cure, Jen H-S

Jen has been a one-woman Pinkishness-seeking-out machine! So we have her to thank for this:

Yes, finally some REAL fucking chips For The Cure! None of that baked crap that’s all healthy and shit. Hey, we have cancer, we’re not nuns here, okay? Give us the damn Fritos and no one will get hurt.

Oh, did I mention that the cancer drugs make us all surly, hence the name FatSurly for Tamoxifen? Just thought I’d mention that, in case anyone had forgotten.

5. Ativan dispenser, by Deanna Doohaluk

At least I *think* it’s Ativan, or some other kind of good drug. Otherwise, what’s the point?

6. Balloons everywhere, by Jen H-S

I really hope I wind up in the hospital for something very minor at some point, maybe an additional adjustment to the Boobages, just so that there’s the opportunity for someone to bring me one of these:

Shiny happy Mylar balloons, in the shape of a pink ribbon no less! What could be more cheerful and hopeful? Not much I tell you, not much….

7. The pink face huggie

I can only say one thing about this: WANT!

8. The White House

Apparently the Obamas are For The Cure – I’m sure that’s because they’re Democrats. I don’t recall the Bush White House doing anything like this, hmm….??

9. Lourdes

Hey, I'm no fool - you think I'm going to be making snarky comments about the People upstairs? When I already have cancer and stuff? Uh uh....

10. Pink Post-its

I LOVE these! In fact, I truly think the lack of Pinkishness Post-its in every household is one of the key reasons that we’re thus far not even the tiniest bit close to a cure. People forget about it! But if they had these, well, imagine the possibilities. “Note to self: Discover Cure Today!” See what a difference that could make?

11. Yoplait lids by TigerChik

You’ve gotta admire the dedication to licking those yucky little lids and throwing their sticky little selves into an envelope for some prison inmate on work release to open. Anything For The Cure though, right?

12. Kona for the Cure

Obviously I’ve been the one slacking off here. Off to buy a doggy coat AND a pink ribbon collar!

13. Pink food tray, by Arlyn

Again, want! How much more festive can one be than serving guests from a pink ribbon food tray?? I don’t know what the heck one would use these for, for what occasion, but maybe they’re all purpose, all the time. Christmas, Easter, post-mastectomy, you name it!

14. AndyBoy produce, by Randymar

I love this. Not only do we have the guys on Slowtwitch taking pictures of produce, but look at that logo! AndyBoy looks a little “special”, does he not? Like one of the Little Rascals, i.e. the one who got locked up in the attic and kept away from sharp objects? Most excellent….

15. Boobages tea cozies, by Mojozenmaster

Not sure if these are meant to keep the Boobages all snuggly and warm, or if they’re actually for tea. But in either case I say, tally ho!

* * * * * * * * *

There’s much much more, kids, but we’ll leave it here for now. Next up we’ll have the really interesting stuff, i.e. things that go into either the Hall of Shame or Hall of WTF category. Not to be missed……

Taking stock, part 2

The training

The training part of my CACTASS endeavor has at least fared slightly better than the diet part. In the last 5 weeks, I’ve logged 1,016 Garmin-certified miles across hill and dale here out in the boondocks. I mean, the bucolic countryside around Huntley, IL. Since I’ve been traveling the same roads ad nauseum, so as to not waste time driving elsewhere to ride, I now know every farmer, every chicken, every dog (fenced and non-fenced), every bump in the road, every place where the wind shifts, every water stop.

I know everything there is to know about the growth cycle of corn. I know the bartender at the Prairie Pub (hours 11AM – 2AM), who’s always nice enough to put ice in my water bottles before I fill them with bottled water. Kelly at Sharon’s Sweet Shop and I are pals, and I promised her a bushel of tomatoes when I get back from my trip. I’ve come to discover that the roads around Delavan, WI get suckier every year, even when they pave them and for some reason wind up with all these seams in the road. People in cars have stopped to ask me for directions. When I see my mom’s neighbors here in Sun City, the first thing they ask me is “How many miles today?” My mom, who’ll be happy to see the tail end of me and The Kone, as I don’t think she likes how we’ve disrupted her orderly existence.

The question, of course, is this – even after all the riding, am I ready to make it up the Alps, or even AN Alp? I have no idea, though I’m starting to think it’s doubtful. But I’ve done what I could in the time I had – and for those wondering why I didn’t start training sooner, well, those pesky surgeries got in the way. At least the Boobages will look good though as I’m gasping for air on the side of a mountain, having simply fallen over on my bike, still clipped in.

And I’m determined to have a good time, whatever may be. I’m still pissed off about the weight thing – since I haven’t had a burger, a bonbonbonbon, or anything else remotely tasty in months now –to no avail. I’m still fat, and will have to try to haul my fat little self up a mountain, which is hard enough when you’re thin. Fuck you FatSurly!

I actually got The Look yesterday from my brother – who’s seen how little I eat - when I idly mentioned that my ride that day had been 80+ miles to Wisconsin and back. He literally stopped in his tracks, looked me up and down, and said “What?? 80 miles? But….how…..”

Me: “Yeah, I know. I’ve been riding those distances for a while now, and you can see all the good it’s done me.”

Andrew: “But…..wow. Imagine what you’d look like if you weren’t doing all that cycling! If I rode that much, I’d look like an Ethiopian refugee!”

Sigh.

Of course, true to form, I’m still ramping up, so I’m off now for another long-ish bike ride in the 99% humidity, now that the rain has stopped. I have a whole week left, and I’m sure I can ratchet up my fitness level another couple of notches in that time. Right? Maybe? Bueller?

Scenes from Stillmans

Delavan, WI

Deanna and I have ventured up here for the 4^th of July weekend, and naturally, after planning out our weekend and making sure we include the Carp-O-Rama in those plans, in keeping with the holiday we meet up with Mike M. to go to a Chinese restaurant. I’m pretty sure I can find something appropriately tasteless and boring ala Stillmans there. Of course, it’s not long before trouble arises.

Deanna, to the waitress: Say, these Happy Chinese Puffy Goodness Delights on the menu, are those the fried dough things rolled in sugar?

Waitress: Yes they are.

Deanna: Great, we’ll have a whole stack of them!

I sit there steeped in virtue as Deanna and Mike stuff ball after ball of fried doughy goodness down their gullets, and wait for the weight to instantaneously start dropping off. After all, I think it’s a cardinal rule that the amount of weight you lose and the speed with which you lose it is indirectly proportional to the tastiness of the food you’re foregoing. And fried dough, well, that’s pretty much my favorite food in the world. Along with pizza, Cheez-Its, mochi, Annette’s chocolate nutella cake, donuts, barbecue, and pancakes. And of course cheese, which kind of goes without saying. Anyway, I wait for the 10 pounds to dissolve from my hips. And wait. And wait. And start pouting, while Deanna and Mike give me gloating, sugar-encrusted grins. I hate them.

Mecca

“Stan” and I decide to go to the new Superdawg in Wheeling, to mark our birthdays, and in preparation I haven’t eaten all day, so that I can have my mai tai when we go to Bob Chinn’s next door afterwards. I’m determined to stick to Stillmans, so instead of the glorious Superdawgski – “nestled in a box with French fries” – I instead have the delightful yet boring SuperChickenski, i.e. a grilled chicken breast on a bun. Stan, being an intelligent human being, orders the Superdawgski, and….

Stan: Hey, should we get some onion chips?

Me, muttering: I’m on a diet.

Stan: What’s that?

Me: I’m ON A DIET! So that I’m not FAT AND MISERABLE for the rest of my MISERABLE FAT life! So NO I CAN’T HAVE ANY DELICIOUS ONION CHIPS!

Me, adding: But you go ahead, don’t deprive yourself.

He adds the onion chips to the order, and there we are chit-chatting away, eating our food, me gnawing on the chicken breast sans bread, when…..

Stan: …..so my viewpoint on Avogadro’s Number has always been a little bit different from the mainstream scientific thought, in that I think…..wait. What’s this? What happened to the rest of the onion chips?

Me, grinning sheepishly: Oops.

Okay, so sue me, I had 6-7 onion chips! I don’t know why I even bother with the damn diet anyway. Let’s see, I “cheated” with a handful of delectable fried onion chips, which when added to the chicken breast, water, and mai tai I had the rest of the day still doesn’t amount to very much. My reward? Gained 2.5 pounds the next day. I hate life.

LARD (Long Ass Ride Day), # whatever

In spite of the extra weight making me feel like I’m toting around 10 frozen hams with me, I continue the daily riding in the somewhat futile hope of making it up the Alps. Or even an Alp. I just want to make it up ONE Alp please.

And naturally, I’ve had every mishap known to man. The flat tires. The rip in the tire instead of the tube. The shifting problems. The meth head. The extreme heat and wind. The poor fit on the bike that makes every ride a new study in pain. I think today is the day, after the gazillion mile ride in the heat and wind, that I make it back to my mom’s and say fuck it to Stillmans, and have some cheese and a Coke as my post-ride recovery snack. Where are the purported 15-25 pounds I was supposed to lose in 2 weeks? Not here, my friends, not here.

The birthday party

I’ve been tracking my calories religiously, and in spite of the occasional lapse, I have yet to go over 1600 calories a day, and that includes the GU and such that I use on my rides. So basically I’ve been running a serious calorie deficit each and every day.

And tonight, in preparation for Robyn’s 40^th birthday party, I’ve had my usual austere meals of roasted chicken and zucchini, with a few blueberries thrown in for good measure. Just in case there’s something worthwhile to sample at the party. Like, say, cake? Ah yes, Nettie has made another one of her delectable creations – a chocolate Nutella cake. Who can resist?

I idly make the comment - as I eat my tiny sliver of cake – that this is the first not-on-my-diet food I’ve had in eons, since I’m not really counting the post-90-mile-ride-ounce-of-cheese as a lapse. Right after I say this, I’m met with silence by Colleen and Bridget, who give my fat little self The Look, and I can see the thought bubbles over their heads clear as day: “Umm, right, who are you trying to kid?” That hurts.

Body for StillButter?

An astute friend posts the following video to FB, which I immediately glom onto, as this could be the key to everything:

You see, I could handle the fact that Stillmans doesn’t allow, well, much of anything. No Cheez-Its. No cake. No pizza. But….no fruit? No. That’s just not possible.

But I soon realize that by combining Stillmans and its stinginess – I mean austerity - with the Butterfield Plan and the free day, and throwing a bit of Body for Life in there as well so that I have another free day, that leads to this: a diet where I can eat whatever I want for 48 hours – including my beloved bonBONbonbons - and then get by on the Stilmans’ 3 olives/day the rest of the week. Score!

I will report back.

The answer to my problems

Well, not all my problems of course – even I recognize what a tall order that would be. So there I was at my mom’s last week, puttering around the house while breathing deeply and hence doing a strenuous core workout, when I spotted a file folder. “Diets,” it said. Hmm.

I just have to say, the treasure trove I found was remarkable. A bunch of those little booklets that they sell at checkout counters, but these were the originals, i.e. the 1974 version of Stillman’s, not the new namby-pamby version that coddles people and lets them eat processed food and the like. No sirree! Some highlights:

· One is allowed 3 – count ‘em, 3 – olives a day. I know, the mind reels.

· We – that is, the “overweights” as the good Dr. Stillman refers to us – can potentially lose 10-25 pounds (“or more!”) in just two weeks. Sweet!

· Ha! In the “daily 15-minute exercise program” section, the VERY FIRST item is entitled “Breathing Exercises.” Doubters and naysayers, take heed!

· Alcohol is allowed. Yes!!

· This part is labeled IMPORTANT: “Take a multivitamin daily – if you are over 40, take a higher content “geriatric” capsule.” Geriatric? At 40?? Sigh.

Now, one of my problems with these kinds of diets is that I tend to be an all-or-nothing kind of person, figuring that if something is good, going to that extreme is way better. So it is with diets, where I generally err on the side of eating too little, feel like crap, and don’t lose weight anyway thanks to my FUCKED UP METABOLISM AND FATSURLY. Oh wait, did I say that? Anyway.

But I’m determined to follow this to the letter. NO deviations, at all. This means that I need to learn to make something called Protein-PLUS Bread, Protein-PLUS Buns, or Protein-PLUS Cake. Though as far as I can tell, the only difference in the three is….I have no idea. They all have the exact same ingredients. Hmm.

I began this little experiment in high protein-low-carb-low-calorie yesterday, July 1^st, and feel significantly slimmer already. I will continue to report back.