Now That My Husband Has Shown Me How The Iron Works, I Am Feeling Empowered

Why is it, no matter where I am going, no matter how far in advance I have known about the trip, I am always packing right down to the moment of departure?  Why did I decide to wear a shirt on the plane that requires ironing? Well, I know the answer to that one, at least.  It's because that shirt  happens to look good on me, and I want to make an entrance, more or less.  I vowed I would get down to the next weight "decade" before this trip to my mother-in-law's, then lamented because I was sure I couldn't make that goal, then I did make it, minus a couple more pounds to boot, so I very unwisely ate a  wonderful Greek dinner from Nic's in Marietta tonight and am praying that I don't regret it tomorrow in oh so many ways.

So now I have lost 60 some pounds, and I have to get serious.  I met with a personal trainer this morning who works at the gym I belong to, and I have seen the future. It is filled with gray and red machines that look as if they are just waiting around for a casting call for a new sci-fi movie being filmed in Atlanta. Actually, it was a good experience.  Chris (the trainer) did not talk down to me which is a major plus for him, since so many people think it is perfectly OK to talk to anyone over 65 with gray hair as if they are about to enter kindergarten.  None of "young lady" crap, which makes me furious.  Oh, let's call attention to the obvious, why don't we. And I call them on it too. They shouldn't think I find it charming when what I find it is condescending and trite. I do not mince words, which I would do if I were charming. 

 After this week out of town, I will put my newfound info on how to tone my biceps and triceps, to use with regular trips to the gym.  The flesh of my upper arms, while no longer really fat, look like the folded wings of a bat. I didn't foresee tank tops in my future, but this is a bit more hideous than I had expected.

Back to "charming." My friend Kay, she of the face lift, said to me at breakfast the other day, "Yuh know, (she's from Jersey)neither of us are charming. Or is it 'is charming.' I can never get that straight." She was having breakfast, as I said. It is her favorite meal, and it happened to be in the middle of the day. Lox, bagels cream cheese, scrambled eggs loaded with cheese and fried potatoes in huge chunks. I should mention she was putting the lox (raw smoked salmon, for you uninitiated out there) and cream cheese (a schmear) on a cinnamon raisin bagel. Maybe I should repeat that: a cinnamon raisin bagel, for God's sake. And drinking coffee with seven packets of sweetener and cut with half a cup of milk. Who needs to make up characters for a book?

Now that my husband has shown me how the iron works, I am feeling empowered. I would iron more things if I didn't have to get up so early to make the plane.