Dedicated to those that love summer- minus the 110 degree heat:
I cannot think of too many things that are sadder than the end of summer. Summer encompasses so many things that are linked to great memories, whether ones that are made already, or ones that are waiting to be made. I personally made some great ones this weekend on what i suspect will be the last of the summer boat cruises. Well, my friends and I had planned a spectacular event on the river on one saturday that we could all get together- when does that EVER happen? Of course our great garden city has been in a drought for the whole summer, but this particular saturday the clouds decided to give the foliage some relief and us some grief. We had the day planned perfectly. My overcomitted friend would go work at the fundraising golf tourney in the morning, while I spent my morning doing a whole lot of uncommited nothing (which is the way I like my saturday mornings to go, quite frankly.) Then we would meet at the boat-owners house, pick up some wife saver, (and for those of you who are not familiar #1 I am sorry and #2 best southern food around) grab beer and ice and get on the water. Seems like a flawless plan, right? Not. We finally got to the river and that's when things got soggy (pun intended.)
We put the boat in at a place I have never been, very nice area, not too many people around, pretty greenery, a few friendly folks fishin', a true picturesque day on the river. We pulled around the first corner and past the first cove, waved to some adventurous teens swimming off-shore, and stopped under a pretty bridge that was a part of a golf cart path where we could see the pretty bunkers and greens. Such a nice place to eat our chicken and fried okra and macaroni and cheese (and "don't forget the nana' puddin'".) Yeah, until God gave the clouds the "OK" and the sky fell out in front of us. At times it was raining on only one side of the bridge, very intriuging, then at times the bridge was leaking (but don't worry we formed water catching devices from styrophome containers left over from lunch.) We watched a beaver building a dam and actually gave him what we thought was a clever name, Ralphie, because we thought he was a rat at first and "ralphie the rat" flowed so well.. Then someone jumped in from the bridge above and I think actually gave my friend larangitus from yelling so loudly and the other whiplash from turning her neck so quickly to check out what the splash was about.
Well, after what seemed like quite a while the rain let up a little and we decided to carry on with our journey in the determined fashion that we started the 40% chance of rain saturday that it was. We cruised along covering ourselves with towels to keep the rain from pelting us and decided to explore a little known cove in one of the inlets. We dodged a fallen tree to the right and lifted the motor to get over a submerged log. Then we chose right or left, left looked a little less leafy, so we went that way, only getting slapped by three limbs along the way. We entered this beautiful unexplored garden of flowers that my friends kept telling me were poisonious. I wonder, are they poison only if eaten or if you touch them too? They were the prettiest ones; good thing they told me or I might have picked them and put them on my kitchen table and the death of my family would have been so tragic. We thought this was the most beautiful spot we had ever seen until suddenly we saw a snake slithering towards us: "a copper mouth" I yelled! Not realizing what I had said and hearing them snicker I tried to correct my self "cotton head" no that can't be right! Man, I deserve to fail biology when we learned about reptiles, or are they amphibians. Nevermind, they ended up calling it a rattlestick in the end just to spite me. We spent the majority of the afternoon in this pretty cove until we realized that was where the spiders lived and we trucked it out of there, because they came on the boat to tell us that our presence was not welcome there anymore.
Once we got onto the open water us girls who were already wet and felt as if creepy crawlers were on us decided we were going to jump in. As we one by one hopped in (because if we didn't we would get pushed) our hearts skipped a beat as our bodies hit the water. " I feel like the girl in titanic" one commented "it feels like melted ice" another of us said. So we decided that the leisurely afternoon swim was going to have to be diminished to a dive that we should have never made. We were all fighting to get out of the water and falling back in, "come to the back it is easier to get out" the smart friend who didn't jump in called out from the boat. The first friend got out, no problem, the second who couldn't quit laughing took three (or four or five tries) and lastly I dragged my body into the boat, new bruises and all. Suggestion to all who go swimming off a boat- make sure there is a ladder before you jump in. Suggestion to all who own a boat- invest in a ladder. Suggestion to all who go out in a boat- check the weather, and take heed.
Although our adventures turned out to be a good time, I would consider consulting meterorologist Jeff Rucker the next time we decide to go out on the boat. After all isn't he right about half the time?
Monday, August 25, 2008
SORRY LADIES AND GENTS, THE TRUTH IS YOU WON'T MAKE 100 GRAND OUT OF COLLEGE!
This is dedicated to anyone who had to suffer through their first job out of college:
For those of you that graduated, found your dream job and are as happy as a lark with what you are doing then more power to ya, it doesn't happen much. Most of us had jobs renting cars (which also means washing the nasty things,) selling trailers, working retail and dealing with customers who need someone to yell at, working 50-60 hours a week for a boss that doesn't even appreciate us and lays you off first chance they get (they lost the best employee they ever had, my friend), or just hating what you do because you became a psychology major and couldn't find a job that had anything to do with it (I know, I know, my parents told me that would happen.) Well, I will tell you what I am glad I am past that first job stage, and I along with about half of my friends started out renting cars. The job really wouldn't have been so bad if wasn't for the hours, the customers, the heat, the cold, washing the cars, the a$$holes that weren't satisfied with the chevy cobalt or the dodge caravan, the incessant rate quotes (because they thought the price would change in 30 minutes, um...yes sir, I do recognize your voice..) And for the record, the best part of the job was the people and I LOVE THEM AND MISS THEM, the job just wasn't for me. But they will also feel these frustrations. I worked as a waitress in college and loved the fact that after I graduated I would move onto a job that kept me from spilling ketchup all over myself. I thought that would be the best thing in the world. Little did I know that I would go from spilling ketchup to spilling soapy water and window cleaner on myself everyday. I spent my first year and a half of being a "real person" being a slave to the man in the car business. Now if money is what drives you then car rental is the way to go because if you think about it, everyone needs wheels, sensible business. But I personally traded in my car washing hat for a non-profit (which I have since figured out means not for money) victims services hat. I love my new job, but as my grandmother says I get paid in hugs. Ever since the day I decided to leave my first job I vowed I would not wash another car, and I haven't...and Damn is my car dirty.
For those of you that graduated, found your dream job and are as happy as a lark with what you are doing then more power to ya, it doesn't happen much. Most of us had jobs renting cars (which also means washing the nasty things,) selling trailers, working retail and dealing with customers who need someone to yell at, working 50-60 hours a week for a boss that doesn't even appreciate us and lays you off first chance they get (they lost the best employee they ever had, my friend), or just hating what you do because you became a psychology major and couldn't find a job that had anything to do with it (I know, I know, my parents told me that would happen.) Well, I will tell you what I am glad I am past that first job stage, and I along with about half of my friends started out renting cars. The job really wouldn't have been so bad if wasn't for the hours, the customers, the heat, the cold, washing the cars, the a$$holes that weren't satisfied with the chevy cobalt or the dodge caravan, the incessant rate quotes (because they thought the price would change in 30 minutes, um...yes sir, I do recognize your voice..) And for the record, the best part of the job was the people and I LOVE THEM AND MISS THEM, the job just wasn't for me. But they will also feel these frustrations. I worked as a waitress in college and loved the fact that after I graduated I would move onto a job that kept me from spilling ketchup all over myself. I thought that would be the best thing in the world. Little did I know that I would go from spilling ketchup to spilling soapy water and window cleaner on myself everyday. I spent my first year and a half of being a "real person" being a slave to the man in the car business. Now if money is what drives you then car rental is the way to go because if you think about it, everyone needs wheels, sensible business. But I personally traded in my car washing hat for a non-profit (which I have since figured out means not for money) victims services hat. I love my new job, but as my grandmother says I get paid in hugs. Ever since the day I decided to leave my first job I vowed I would not wash another car, and I haven't...and Damn is my car dirty.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
TALES OF CARS WITH CHARACTER (CRAPPY)
Dedicated to anyone who has had to drive an embarassing car:
Well, my precious cousin, who I really think of as my sister, is on her way to Athens today to pick up her new car! What an exciting time- I remember getting my first new car: wait... what am I talking about?! I had to drive my Grandfather's 1990 Pontiac Grand Prix that had been handed down from my Nana to my Papa because some shrimp spilled in the trunk on our beach vacation, and even though he had it professionally cleaned she could still smell it, and the truth is, if the day was hot enough, you could. The poor car shorted out all the time for no apparent reason so you couldn't brake for squirrels or the dang thing would just quit on you. Sometimes it would even quit for no reason going up a hill and you would just start to RoLL back down- fun times.... I think everytime my friends and I went somewhere they would opt to drive. We actually nicknamed the poor guy the POS (piece of s%#T) 2000. I do have to say that it hurt my pride a little when I was shorted out on the side of the road and then teens in their convertable audi stopped and asked me if I needed help. "No!!! I am fine, it just needs to rest!" (as I was trying to call my parents on my Zach Morris phone which NEVER had service.) I was also was awarded the front spot at school that year, so not only did I have to drive the car, but you could see it glinting in the sun if you looked out of the cafeteria! It looked even worse next to the land rover, Z3, and benz parked beside it. I have to admit, it is really nice to have a good dependable car, but crappy car stories are the best, they really do build character. Things like the ability to crank your car up with a key and take it out, yet the car still runs, is the stuff of the movies, which is one friends story, or another similar story where she could take the keys out of her Dodge Fox to open the glove box and then put them back in the ignition, all while driving! Continuing with the Fox episodes, it had no air, so a tiny fan was plugged into the cigarette lighter and attached to the dash for a nice breeze, the drivers side outside latch was broken so she had to manually roll down her window (yes manually, they weren't always automatic) to turn her key in the door to open it and get out. This is not to even mentioning how she carried around fan belts to replace hers that popped off on a regular basis! Or how bout my friend whose drivers side lock is broken so you have to crawl in the passenger side to let yourself in, or how the driver window doesn't roll down so you have to lay your seat back to the back window to get your drive-thru. Or how bout a loose windshield wiper switch that randomly turns on as you are driving down the road- truly priceless! Now as an adult I have a pretty nice car, one I am not embarrased of, but it seems to be in the shop quite a bit. So not only do I get the pleasure of throwing hundreds of my sweat and tears into my car, but to add serious insult to injury I am back to driving my Grandfather's sweet LeSabre,which is what he replaced the Gran Prix with. At least I know I won't get a ticket, it is hard enough to get it up to the speed limit, and plus they think I am little old lady and what heartless policemen is gonna give them a ticket?
Well, my precious cousin, who I really think of as my sister, is on her way to Athens today to pick up her new car! What an exciting time- I remember getting my first new car: wait... what am I talking about?! I had to drive my Grandfather's 1990 Pontiac Grand Prix that had been handed down from my Nana to my Papa because some shrimp spilled in the trunk on our beach vacation, and even though he had it professionally cleaned she could still smell it, and the truth is, if the day was hot enough, you could. The poor car shorted out all the time for no apparent reason so you couldn't brake for squirrels or the dang thing would just quit on you. Sometimes it would even quit for no reason going up a hill and you would just start to RoLL back down- fun times.... I think everytime my friends and I went somewhere they would opt to drive. We actually nicknamed the poor guy the POS (piece of s%#T) 2000. I do have to say that it hurt my pride a little when I was shorted out on the side of the road and then teens in their convertable audi stopped and asked me if I needed help. "No!!! I am fine, it just needs to rest!" (as I was trying to call my parents on my Zach Morris phone which NEVER had service.) I was also was awarded the front spot at school that year, so not only did I have to drive the car, but you could see it glinting in the sun if you looked out of the cafeteria! It looked even worse next to the land rover, Z3, and benz parked beside it. I have to admit, it is really nice to have a good dependable car, but crappy car stories are the best, they really do build character. Things like the ability to crank your car up with a key and take it out, yet the car still runs, is the stuff of the movies, which is one friends story, or another similar story where she could take the keys out of her Dodge Fox to open the glove box and then put them back in the ignition, all while driving! Continuing with the Fox episodes, it had no air, so a tiny fan was plugged into the cigarette lighter and attached to the dash for a nice breeze, the drivers side outside latch was broken so she had to manually roll down her window (yes manually, they weren't always automatic) to turn her key in the door to open it and get out. This is not to even mentioning how she carried around fan belts to replace hers that popped off on a regular basis! Or how bout my friend whose drivers side lock is broken so you have to crawl in the passenger side to let yourself in, or how the driver window doesn't roll down so you have to lay your seat back to the back window to get your drive-thru. Or how bout a loose windshield wiper switch that randomly turns on as you are driving down the road- truly priceless! Now as an adult I have a pretty nice car, one I am not embarrased of, but it seems to be in the shop quite a bit. So not only do I get the pleasure of throwing hundreds of my sweat and tears into my car, but to add serious insult to injury I am back to driving my Grandfather's sweet LeSabre,which is what he replaced the Gran Prix with. At least I know I won't get a ticket, it is hard enough to get it up to the speed limit, and plus they think I am little old lady and what heartless policemen is gonna give them a ticket?
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
THEY SAY HELL IS SIMLIAR TO A DOCTOR'S WAITING ROOM
Dedicated to anyone who has ever been to the doctor (aka everyone):
What is it about Doctor's offices that make you feel so, well, sounds pretty elementary, but... ICKY. I don't know if it is the waiting room portion where you have to stand in line behind the man in a walker who is by himself and you are hoping to goodness that he didn't drive himself there considering he can barely take a seat without assitance in order to check in. It might be the part where you are forced to read magazines that you aren't interested in because all the ones you like are already taken. Or maybe it is the obnoxiously loud soap opera blaring in the background "oh Carlos...it is your baby dum dum daaa....." Possibly it is the lady in the corner talking on the phone so loudly in her thick asian accent thinking that because she is "in the corner" no one can hear her talking to her son Chow Min about the bad grade he got in math and what they are having for dinner and if he has fed the cat... Then there is the whole fact that you spend your time pretending to read the uniteresting airplane magazine in front of you all the while thinking "I wonder why they are here." Then the person beside you coughs and you move your arm off the rest thinking "oh, GOD! what if it is the bird flu?!!" Then someone across the room sneezes and then coughs and blows their nose, twice, to which your reaction is a simple "gross." We worry so much about these people, hoping that we don't catch what they have, when in all reality most of the people in that room are probably just there in order to adjust their antidepressants.
What is it about Doctor's offices that make you feel so, well, sounds pretty elementary, but... ICKY. I don't know if it is the waiting room portion where you have to stand in line behind the man in a walker who is by himself and you are hoping to goodness that he didn't drive himself there considering he can barely take a seat without assitance in order to check in. It might be the part where you are forced to read magazines that you aren't interested in because all the ones you like are already taken. Or maybe it is the obnoxiously loud soap opera blaring in the background "oh Carlos...it is your baby dum dum daaa....." Possibly it is the lady in the corner talking on the phone so loudly in her thick asian accent thinking that because she is "in the corner" no one can hear her talking to her son Chow Min about the bad grade he got in math and what they are having for dinner and if he has fed the cat... Then there is the whole fact that you spend your time pretending to read the uniteresting airplane magazine in front of you all the while thinking "I wonder why they are here." Then the person beside you coughs and you move your arm off the rest thinking "oh, GOD! what if it is the bird flu?!!" Then someone across the room sneezes and then coughs and blows their nose, twice, to which your reaction is a simple "gross." We worry so much about these people, hoping that we don't catch what they have, when in all reality most of the people in that room are probably just there in order to adjust their antidepressants.
GO FOR GOLD, IT'S SO SHINY!!
Dedicated to anyone dedicated to the Olympics..
Ah, well it is that time of the year...er...well...that time of every fourth I should say, you know; the SUMMER OLYMPICS! First let me tell you that I am addicted to the olympics. I don't even like pole vaulting or discus throwing or shotput on a normal day, but put up some flags and slap a USA jersey on an althlete and I am riveted. I have never in my life been so interested in 8 lanes of speedo sportin', swim cap wearin', goggle lovin' men in my life until we start winning ungodly amounts of gold medals.
May I mention beach volleyball for one moment? Number one- never been so perplexed about a strange black "humungus tatooo" (as my two year old cousin says) on the shoulder of someone, but lo and behold USA is on her back, so I want to know, dang it! (and yes, I did google it and the mystery was explained- athletic tape to help with stress and pressure.) Number two- it is hard enough to tote my cooler/chair/umbrella/boogie board/innertube/sunscreen down to the beach in that sand. How do they possibly make it look so easy? Rock on May-Walsh!!
Can I give a shout out to the little known sports?!!! How bout the trampolinists!! Sweet flips and turns ladies. How bout syncronized diving. Wow, that is all I can say about that.
Now onto the favorite of the summer olympics, gymnastics. Honestly, can't say enough. Really, the truth is I can't say anything because I am so fatigued from staying up until 2am watching the coverage. One vent though- are those little China dolls 16? If they truly are then I wish everyone would let it go! Becuase if they are they do not deserve to have their wins and accomplishments tainted by this accusal from the world, but aren't they just so cute I just want to pinch their wittle cheekies.
I love the Olympics, but I am ready to get back to giving my pillow the attention it deserves.
Ah, well it is that time of the year...er...well...that time of every fourth I should say, you know; the SUMMER OLYMPICS! First let me tell you that I am addicted to the olympics. I don't even like pole vaulting or discus throwing or shotput on a normal day, but put up some flags and slap a USA jersey on an althlete and I am riveted. I have never in my life been so interested in 8 lanes of speedo sportin', swim cap wearin', goggle lovin' men in my life until we start winning ungodly amounts of gold medals.
May I mention beach volleyball for one moment? Number one- never been so perplexed about a strange black "humungus tatooo" (as my two year old cousin says) on the shoulder of someone, but lo and behold USA is on her back, so I want to know, dang it! (and yes, I did google it and the mystery was explained- athletic tape to help with stress and pressure.) Number two- it is hard enough to tote my cooler/chair/umbrella/boogie board/innertube/sunscreen down to the beach in that sand. How do they possibly make it look so easy? Rock on May-Walsh!!
Can I give a shout out to the little known sports?!!! How bout the trampolinists!! Sweet flips and turns ladies. How bout syncronized diving. Wow, that is all I can say about that.
Now onto the favorite of the summer olympics, gymnastics. Honestly, can't say enough. Really, the truth is I can't say anything because I am so fatigued from staying up until 2am watching the coverage. One vent though- are those little China dolls 16? If they truly are then I wish everyone would let it go! Becuase if they are they do not deserve to have their wins and accomplishments tainted by this accusal from the world, but aren't they just so cute I just want to pinch their wittle cheekies.
I love the Olympics, but I am ready to get back to giving my pillow the attention it deserves.
WHAT WOULD YOUR BUTTON SAY?
This is dedicated to my sisters and brothers who 'hate the player and the dating game':
As my friend and I sat at a bar (where so many wonderful philosophies are born) looking around the room at the men and women, we were both instantly frustrated with dating. We then came up with the theory of "buttons." Yeah yeah, I am gonna explain it.... Wouldn't life be so much easier if everyone wore a campaign style button on their shirt that said exactly what they wanted out of relationship? For example, let's say your button clearly stated "single, free-spirited, outdoorsy, looking for a relationship" and you walked by a guy that had a button that said "single, organized, fisherman, not looking for anything serious." Then, right there at that moment you have that fatheresque, sitting the in living room with a shotgun, "what are your intentions talk" without even saying a single word. You would know that, clearly this man, or woman, would be blatant waste of your time. Even though he/she might be cute, nice, a good dresser, nice hair, a great smile, looks great in blue, and has the same interests as you, you know without a doubt that he/she doesn't want the same things as you. See there, just saved you two of the best years of your life with one button.
As my friend and I sat at a bar (where so many wonderful philosophies are born) looking around the room at the men and women, we were both instantly frustrated with dating. We then came up with the theory of "buttons." Yeah yeah, I am gonna explain it.... Wouldn't life be so much easier if everyone wore a campaign style button on their shirt that said exactly what they wanted out of relationship? For example, let's say your button clearly stated "single, free-spirited, outdoorsy, looking for a relationship" and you walked by a guy that had a button that said "single, organized, fisherman, not looking for anything serious." Then, right there at that moment you have that fatheresque, sitting the in living room with a shotgun, "what are your intentions talk" without even saying a single word. You would know that, clearly this man, or woman, would be blatant waste of your time. Even though he/she might be cute, nice, a good dresser, nice hair, a great smile, looks great in blue, and has the same interests as you, you know without a doubt that he/she doesn't want the same things as you. See there, just saved you two of the best years of your life with one button.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
"I DON'T HAVE A BABY, EVERYBODY DRINK!" -Samantha Jones
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
This is dedicated to anyone who has had to listen to pregnancy stories and was strongly compelled to adopt:
Never being pregnant myself, it is a real mystery to me. I feel as if I am surrounded by pregnant woman constantly telling me stories that, quite honestly, I don't want to hear. Baffling, really. You say the phrase "coffee and cheetos dont mix very well" because you, as a non-preggo didn't eat breakfast and scrounged up the only thing in the office to eat and it turned out not to with go well with your usual morning drink, and it makes them gag. But lunch conversation is about how certain foods (which may be on your plate) make or made them puke and this is somehow acceptable conversation. Guess it is an easy way to diet, but there are starving children in Somalia that would have enjoyed that BBQ chicken that I can now not bring myself to eat, that is if the jolie-pitts didn't adopt them yet, of course.
This is dedicated to anyone who has had to listen to pregnancy stories and was strongly compelled to adopt:
Never being pregnant myself, it is a real mystery to me. I feel as if I am surrounded by pregnant woman constantly telling me stories that, quite honestly, I don't want to hear. Baffling, really. You say the phrase "coffee and cheetos dont mix very well" because you, as a non-preggo didn't eat breakfast and scrounged up the only thing in the office to eat and it turned out not to with go well with your usual morning drink, and it makes them gag. But lunch conversation is about how certain foods (which may be on your plate) make or made them puke and this is somehow acceptable conversation. Guess it is an easy way to diet, but there are starving children in Somalia that would have enjoyed that BBQ chicken that I can now not bring myself to eat, that is if the jolie-pitts didn't adopt them yet, of course.
MOVING IN THE HEAT
This is dedicated to anyone who has ever had to experience the misery of moving in the GA heat:
I was reminded of the sort of hellacious experience it is to move into and apartment, not to mention a 3rd floor one, in the middle of summer by my friend this weekend. There are so many things to think about when you are moving; deposits, pets, landlords, turning on electricity, dealing with storage units. It really is enough to make your head spin. So lets start with the landlords, um, ever heard of an emergency contact? What is up with people that we pay our hard earned money to not being accessible in this overly accessible society? On to GA Power, When I think about her and her family trying to work with the notoriously hard to work with GA power to get her air turned on in the middle of the sweltering summer heat it makes my stomach churn a little. Is it too much to ask that a representative flip a switch for a sista? I mean really?! As I think of them standing outside of their cars drinking a warm gatorade, trying to keep from dehydrating it lights a little fire inside of me. On to storage units, who says a man that you pay cash to each month for a little box with no heat or air can try and hold YOUR things hostage? What a ridiculous excuse for a business man, no office, no drop box, no ethics, um... can we say po-dunk? Well, the good news is my friend is moved in, no one passed out and I'm thinking what she really needs is a gnome by her front door to bring her some much needed good luck to come her way, who knows, maybe it will even be an Atlanta Braves gnome and it will bring them some luck as well, Lord knows they need it.
I was reminded of the sort of hellacious experience it is to move into and apartment, not to mention a 3rd floor one, in the middle of summer by my friend this weekend. There are so many things to think about when you are moving; deposits, pets, landlords, turning on electricity, dealing with storage units. It really is enough to make your head spin. So lets start with the landlords, um, ever heard of an emergency contact? What is up with people that we pay our hard earned money to not being accessible in this overly accessible society? On to GA Power, When I think about her and her family trying to work with the notoriously hard to work with GA power to get her air turned on in the middle of the sweltering summer heat it makes my stomach churn a little. Is it too much to ask that a representative flip a switch for a sista? I mean really?! As I think of them standing outside of their cars drinking a warm gatorade, trying to keep from dehydrating it lights a little fire inside of me. On to storage units, who says a man that you pay cash to each month for a little box with no heat or air can try and hold YOUR things hostage? What a ridiculous excuse for a business man, no office, no drop box, no ethics, um... can we say po-dunk? Well, the good news is my friend is moved in, no one passed out and I'm thinking what she really needs is a gnome by her front door to bring her some much needed good luck to come her way, who knows, maybe it will even be an Atlanta Braves gnome and it will bring them some luck as well, Lord knows they need it.
7 EATING HABITS OF HIGHLY EFFECTIVE PEOPLE
This is dedicated to the women, and hell, men who are fighting the battle of the bulge:
As women we are usually looking for some motivation to lose those few pounds that we are so scared are going to become the dreaded "spare tire" or the awful "love handle" or the simply scary "cottage cheese thighs."
As women we are usually looking for some motivation to lose those few pounds that we are so scared are going to become the dreaded "spare tire" or the awful "love handle" or the simply scary "cottage cheese thighs."
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