Innergiggler's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘Linda Lichtman

Did I read postings by FBffs questioning their overall self-assesments?  Don’t expect perfection?  Au contraire mes amies…  Accept that YOU ARE PERFECTION…FOR TODAY! 

Just say “I am absolutely perfect for today doing the best I can do and move on…if someone suggests that perfection eludes you…let them know with a confident smile…or perhaps an action…for instance:

While doing my laundry in the Santa Monica laundromat where I met the Robster (sitting at the dock of Santa Monica Bay, letting the tide roll away…”  Oh get ’em Otis Redding) I counted 4 buses driving east on Santa Monica Blvd. bearing enormous ads…1-800-GET THIN!  1-800-GET THIN!  on and on…far from the subliminal messages of the 60s…I’m starting to read…1-800-YOU-BLIMP, 1-800-DON’T-EAT, 1-800-IMP-ERFECT, 1-800-SO-UGLY. 

So for today, I’m renting a bus, driving it East to West, West to East, with a pic of me holding hands with that gorgeous LANE BRYANT model and a phone number…1-800-FUCK-YOU…1-800-FUCK-YOU!Cause we’re all beautiful! Inside & out!

I’m just sayin’

When a real Panties In The Toilet Day arrives…you know it either the instant just before or after your eyelids part to welcome the day.  It’s Murphy’s Law…almost anything you try to accomplish will go wrong.  Signs to look for:

1. The alarm doesn’t go off 

2. You wake up in someone else’s bed and he/she is a bedwetter

3. You wake up with a stranger next to you though you’d gone to sleep alone and he/she is a bedwetter

4. The Krups coffee-maker passes away

5. Your toothbrush falls on the “I should have cleaned that yesterday” bathroom floor

6. Carpal tunnel makes it impossible to hook up your bra

7. Donna Summer is singing “Last Dance” on the radio and it’s 2010

8. You neglected to replace the washcloth, shower gel or soap, the shower’s on and now you have to walk across that “bathroom floor” to get your stuff

9. Your next door neighbor calls hysterically crying her boyfriend beat her again and she needs a ride to the hospital before you leave for work…


10.  You’re out of the shower reaching over to retrieve your last clean pair of undies hanging on the doorknob…and SWISH the undergarment, protector of the “thang” or “thangs” quickly descends into the toilet.

What signs tip you off to a PITD?

Ninth grade was brutal.  The 1950s found newly teenaged girls forced into occupational slavery – one semester of cooking and one semester of dress-making.  We’ll get to dressmaking later.

Cooking class revealed my rebellious side as I got caught committing heinous acts with my spatula – flipping Shelly Horowitz’ pancakes, lipstick and her tampons.  My actions resulted in two weeks of detention and the revocation of my spatula.

Maybe because cooking felt unnatural – you see my casseroles of over-cooked veggies…carrots, peas, string beans – appeared to be suffering from both impotence and co-dependence.  But it was Meat Loaf Friday at JHS 216 that had an everlasting effect on my life.

As we were kneading our individual loaves, the teacher passed by my prep area, chuckled, pointed to my creation and sarcastically asked if I’d ever been to Diamond Head.  I knew it wasn’t a compliment.  So maybe when she instructed us to take our loaves home, I felt a lack of pride in my project, so I just stuffed “it” inside my shoulder bag and ran to catch the school bus.  I couldn’t miss American Bandstand, Jerry Lee Lewis was the guest…”Great Balls of Fire…”  da da da da da da da,,,goodness gracious!

By Sunday afternoon a pervasive stench permeated our home.  Dad was undecided as to whether to call the exterminator or the coroner… and continued to play Sherlock Holmes.  Alas, I was in my room practicing being cool when I heard him bellowing my name from down in the den.  Why me?  With great trepidation I tip-toed down the long stairwell.  Standing next to the TV, holding my protruding olive green shoulder bag, was my pissed off dad.  I was not punished…but meat loaf in any form was never allowed in our home again.

I really wanna blog.  I once wanted to cha cha and I learned how to do that.  Driving seemed like a fun activity, and although my husband would disagree – I think I’ve mastered it.  I’ve also learned:

* How to move cross country by myself

* How to get married at 55

* How to get into my Spanx

* How to avoid doing laundry for long periods of time…

All memorable efforts…but I can’t freakin’ figure out how to set up this stupid blog thing.  I’ve taken 131 seminars on blogging, 12 on SuperBlogging and several on setting up my blog…Crap!  I’m just gonna write this thing and see what happens.  And I’m gonna blog to music…tonight it’s “Wake Up Everybody” by Harold and The Bluenotes…

Share |
counter for wordpress