A Lean and Hungry Look

Caesar:

Let me have men about me that are fat,

Sleek-headed men and such as sleep a-nights.

Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look,

He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.

Julius Caesar Act 1, scene 2, 190–195

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. When life hands you school-loans, wish you had taken those lemons and made them into dinner, a new fancy drink, decorative earrings and an entire outfit.

I am not claiming poverty, and I count my lucky stars every night before I go to sleep, but I have resolved to be more stingy in many areas of my life. Likewise, I’ve noticed the correlation between being a “fat ass” and being a “broke ass.”

With the recent economic—how do you say—ah, yes, shit-show of 2009, I thought it was time I joined the bandwagon of saving some cash. So here are my sure bet ways to save some money & lose weight in 2009. Copyright “The Lady”

1. Eat cardboard instead of expensive fat-free crackers (which taste like cardboard). Cardboard is made of paper, which is made of trees, which means I’d be recycling AND losing weight. I’d take “Going Green” to a new level of insanity. Wow, between dieting, the recession and going green I’d really hit 3-fads in 1. I am awesome.

2. Don’t travel…anywhere. If I don’t go anywhere I won’t need gas (saving $). If I don’t go anywhere I can’t buy food that will make me fat (no more fatty). If I don’t go anywhere I won’t have friends, which means I won’t have friends who have birthdays, which means I won’t have to buy anything for anyone (saving $$$).

3. No more gym! There goes that 50 bucks a month. I can work my triceps and biceps curling my remote control! I can also walk to work to save money on gas. Walking to work is a good 25 miles, so that’s like 6,000 calories! I’ll have to leave at 1 am for my 7:30 job, but it will be well worth it as I lose calories and gain cash! Ca-CHING!

4. Pack lunches for work filled with the best stuff on Earth; love! When a co-worker asks, “Hey, what are you having for lunch?” I’ll tell them proudly, “just a bag of love!” When they ask if they can have some, I will tell them “yes” as there is enough to go around. They will ask me, “where is the love” and I will tell them “love is all they need.” When my love-lunch gives them indigestion then I will remind my co-worker that “love is a battlefield” and “love hurts.” I think you get the point….BUT I’M NOT FINISHED…When my co-worker tells me they have loose stool I will remind them that “love, love will keep us together” because, I know for a fact, love is full of fiber! Too much? I think so.

5. I will save money by eating grass and tree leaves. If my Shih-Tzu can get away with it why can’t I? I will lose the pounds by starting the tree-leaf diet. This eating habit, plus the 25 mile walk, will surely do the trick (or kill me, I’ve not decided which). Also, I'm pretty sure my Shih-Tzu vomits everytime she eats grass or leaves....I won't go there though.

6. I will sell millions of copies of my “Purse and Food Diet” book and motivational tapes. I will make tons of money off the book, promotions and “The Lady” action figure. Celebrities will promote my diet and, soon enough, it will be a fad all on its own. With that, I won’t need to starve my pocketbook any longer and will buy a mansion, BMW and a pool filled with JELLO Pudding. Mmm, pudding! Just kidding, make that a pool filled with whipped cream! Mmm, whipped cream! Forget it all – A POOL OF ICE CREAM! Mmm, ice cream!

Off to eat my face in ice cream (that cost $3.99)! I guess this Lady's diet will just have to wait for another day.

Love and donuts,

The Lady

In Action How Like a God

Rosencrantz: My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. Hamlet Act 2, scene 2, 303–312

I’ve found my way back home and I am ready to vent. Where to start?

I have been a fan of TLC’s John and Kate+ Eight for the past year. With that, the recent news of his alleged discretions has hit me hard. How could he abandon us like that? How could he do something so hurtful? With those questions, I hear the justification of “well, she’s such a bitch to him that he should cheat on her.” That is where my eye begins to twitch with fury; and when my eye starts twitching best to clear out of my way.

The point is, I don’t care how awful you are to someone you don’t deserve to be cheated on. Plus, and let me get on my feminist soapbox, just because she is a hard-nosed, organized, ball-busting female that doesn’t make her a bitch. How does her personality make her a bitch who should be cheated on? What rational world do we live in if bitch = deserved to be punished by the man you married? Where in most cases I feel “bitches get stitches” I would never stoop so low to say “she’s annoying, CHEAT ON HER!”

Sure, I think she’s nuts for having 8 kids, but I think she is the only person who could handle it. You have to be a bit of a bitchy-wacko to take care of 8 children. Not too much of a wacko though ie: OctoMom (a story for another entry).

I don’t get why she’s a “bitch” and he’s such a martyr for putting up with her. The woman birthed 8 babies (6 in one shot) for this man. As anyone who watches the show has seen, that took a toll on her body; if my stomach stretched that far out, filled with human beings, I would vomit at my own reflection. She looked like a skin mini-van of John’s spawn. Wow, that is gross. Hold on…I need a minute to compose myself.

Anyway, she takes care of them daily while he is at work. She gave up her job to run the household in which her major conversations are with 3 year-olds. As a long-time babysitter, I know how hard it can be to only talk to youngins’ all day. By the time your day is through, you’d be a bitch too. Plus, you’d be making Dora the Explorer references and really lame jokes about baby-wipes and sippy cups. She cleans up pee, puke, poop and other nastiness that would make me gag. That’s a hard task when the liquids are coming out of one child let alone 8 at once. That’s like a puking, peeing, pooping monster. Wow, that is gross. Hold on…I need a minute to compose myself again.

Why does she do it—because she loves them and her husband.

No one deserves the trust of the person they love to be thrown away like some diaper. Sure, she might be nasty, but she hasn’t earned the right to be cheated on. Even the nastiest of ladies I know should be honored by their men (but reap the pain of my angry twitching EYE!).

(Hops off of feminist soap-box)
~The Lady~

the lady has left the blogger....

go to http://theladydothprotest.wordpress.com/ to find her.

adieu, blogger...adieu!

~The Lady~

That Man That Hath a Tongue, I Say is No Man

Iago:I have profess'd me thy friend, and I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness. I could never betterstead thee than now.
Put money in thy purse; follow thou thewars; defeat thy favor with an usurp'd beard.
I say put money inthy purse.
It cannot be long that Desdemona should continue her love to the Moor
—put money in thy purse—nor he his to her.
-Othello Act 1, scene 3, 336–344


In the years of my relatively short life, someone drilled into my brain that those who are good will reap the benefits of their virtue. Someone, somewhere along the lines made me feel that being a kind soul would make me the beneficiary of good things. Surely I recognize the many blessings of my life, but to hear the Rush Limbaugh will be making $38 million for the next 6 years of his life makes me question the concept of good vs. evil.
It’s the universal theme, right? Good beats evil in an epic final scene.

Then, here it is in cold Times New Roman font, Rush Limbaugh to receive signing bonus and $38 million over the next six years to continue his radio show. This is a man who has made racist comments, lies for the benefit of our leaders and panders to his audience as much as that monkey I saw the other day dancing for quarters as some jerk cranked a victrola. How does this type of man receive praise? How can this type of political monkey be making so much change?


Now, I know he has millions of fans but what I don’t get is how? How do 600 radio stations and 14 million people listen to him for 3 hours a day? How do we Americans applaud someone who spouts morals and has none? My concern is that millions of Americans agree with his babble of anti-humanity speeches and can listen to him preach day in and day out.

If I am humble, kind and love others shouldn’t I be receiving some financial compensation? That’s what I was taught. I understand my Christian/Western beliefs are pouring out of me at this moment, yet in all my studies I don’t remember any other culture that praises assholes. If that were true, there would be a lot more novels, songs, poems and movies in which the main character is an asshole who gets $38 million a year for being said asshole.


Americans don’t like the “top-dog.” We root for Rocky (no matter how old he is and how many face-lifts he’s had), we root for Rudy and, clearly, we root for Underdog (did anyone see that movie?). Here and there we have the tragic hero ala Ethan Frome and John Proctor of The Crucible. Yet, even those characters show signs of righteousness and repentance that, I’m gathering, Rush doesn’t. Why should he feel sorry; he’s making millions off his proud commentaries and *spoiler alert* Procter and Frome don’t have it nearly as good in the end.


He calls Americans “anti-patriotists,” he distorts the words of others and he uses Oxycontin habitually.


Evil has won…show him the money.


Happy 4th of July,



~The Lady~

Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash

"Who steals my purse steals trash;

'tis something, nothing;'

Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;

But he that filches from me my good name

Robs me of that which not enriches him,

And makes me poor indeed."Othello Act 3, scene 3, 155–161

I have never understood the need for joke-stealing. Its the age-old story of back-stabbing and two timing that no one ever speaks of because they will seem petty. I have never held back on this blog and I will not stop today!

There you are at a casual dinner party (or raucous beer fest, take your pick) and you make a quiet joke. Your "friend" next to you hears how funny it is, repeats it at a louder decibal, and becomes the man/lady of the hour--the joker of the evening, the grand Puuba of Funny. Everyone loves him/her and you are just the quiet moron he/she brought along for his/her ride of comedy. You drink more and keep asking yourself, "Why didnt I say that louder? How can I make them know I'M THE FUNNY ONE!" You cant. You drink more, and while your friend basks in the glory of his/her comedic genius, you're table dancing your pain away and making out with everyone in the room. Age-old story in which I have seen and been apart. I ask you, WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN!?

The alternate joke-stealer is the guy in your cubicle who you use one of your finest jokes on. He laughs, he thinks its funny. In fact, he thinks its so funny he just happens to use your joke, plus his slanted smile, on your boss. The boss laughs and Joe-Creeper becomes #1 Intern. You, in turn, become Intern #2 who couldnt make a baby laugh at some keys shaking in their face. You can't go back in time and reserve your humor for the boss, you can't beat the crap out of Joe-Creeper and you can't hide the fury that burns within you for this joke stealer. He told the joke to the right person at the right time and you are nothing but an intern. Cry yourself to sleep, but make sure you seek revenge always on Joe-Creeper.

Sometimes, in worse situations, its not just jokes but full ideas. Complete ideas in which you created are credited to some jerk who was slick enough to give him/herself the credit to the right people. I have had such ideas stolen from me. They were brilliant gorgeously crafted ideas. The ideas turned into reality and I felt proud for my blossoming creativity. My problem; I crafted them with a shifty son-of-a-monkey who in turn pretended he crafted them on his own. My creation was his and his creation was mine. I was left looking, once again, like the drunk moron dancing on the age old table of life waiting for the shifty-son-of-a-monkey to recognize me. He never did. I can't go back and claim those ideas as my own; it would seem petty now.

However, I will say it takes a different breed of human to not only accept someone elses' jokes, or ideas, but to take owernship and pride in them. All of the above thieves have not only stolen, but claimed and revelled in ideas in which they took. It takes no conscious, giant testicles and a cold-heart to feel you have the right to something someone else produced. Its plagiarism in a verbal manner. If I took everything off Wikipedia, tacked it into my paper and then showed my paper off to other students shouting "HA! I'M BRILLIANT" wouldn't I seem like an idiot? Than why, why do we let joke stealers slide? How come we dont scream "I JUST SAID THAT! YOU JUST SAID IT LOUDER!" Why do we hide and blame ourselves?

Deep down, its because we know we'll make 1,000,000 more jokes, or come up with 1,000,000 more ideas, and the thief will be riding the one they stole from you for years.

To honesty and to good jokes,

~The Lady~

To Flaming Youth

Hamlet:

O shame, where is thy blush?

Rebellious hell,

If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,

To flaming youth let virtue be as wax

And melt in her own fire. Hamlet Act 3, scene 4, 81–85

I do not do well in heat. My body, my hair, and my overall being just don’t match up with overly hot and humid weather. If I were a can of hairspray, I would be highly flammable. If I were a dog, I would get overheated easily. If I were a homosexual, I would be of the flaming variety. I just don’t do well in the heat. Granted, neither do old people nor children locked in small cars but I don’t hear them complaining. Which brings me to my top ten list: Top Ten Things to do When the Weather is Scorching Hot.

10. Run around in the sprinkler…that your neighbor puts on even during the drought. Scream and yell in your bathing suit as you jump through the crisp cold sprinkler squirts. When your neighbor reprimands you, tell him you’re with the Sprinkler Control and that he cares more for his grass than the environment. Then run away, with your arms flailing, screaming “SPRINKLER CONTROL” whilst making siren noises.

9. Eat water ice…that you’ve stolen from a small child—preferably a toddler. The smaller their hands the easier to steal from them (this is a well known fact documented in the Encyclopedia of Being a Bad Person).

8. Turn on your air conditioner…to 20 degrees. Pull out your parka and tack an “Eskimo Home” sign on your front door. All the neighbors will be jealous when you get hypothermia.

7. Go to the beach…and pretend you’re a beached whale. People will try desperately to cool you off with buckets of water and throw you back. Plus, the news crews will be all over this nautical event.

6. Go the pool…and pretend you’re drowning. If for nothing else you’ll get a free hookup with a lifeguard (at least that’s what “The Sandlot” and “Baywatch” have taught me).

5. Drink water…gallons of it, until you die from Water-Poisoning. Can you say poster-child for hydration?

4. Wear 35+ sun block…and a visor, carry an umbrella, wear gloves, a turbin and footy pajamas (just to be safe). If the sun hits your skin scream “UVA EQUALS DEATH” and run into the shade as quickly as possible.

3. Lounge in a pool….of ice cubes. Feel the tingle of cooling down.

2. Wear deodorant…on every bit of your body that sweats (ie: anywhere that has a pore of some sort). Nobody likes a hot-stinker so make sure you buy surplus deodorant. Only you can prevent hot sticky messes!

And the number one way to stay cool in the Summer….

1. Read this blog. Are you reading this blog? Well, you’re already cooler than you were when you weren’t reading this blog! Is this a shameless play on words? Yes. Are you cool? Yes. Any complaints? I didn’t think so.

Keep cool (the catch phrase of the month heard from the mouths of everyone I pass).

~The Lady~

If Music be the Food of Love

"The man that hath no music in himself,Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils."
- The Merchant of Venice (V, i, 83-85)

A sentimental fool is this lady that I claim to be, crumbling beneath the beautiful lyrics on an old dejected IPOD and a song that had meant so much in a time that shouldn’t be forgot but, was.

The Ipod is a part of the technological age so shouldn't it be cold and unwelcoming? How could it create such an emotional response as say, a poem. Yet, as this lady reclaimed its songs, their past meanings and all the heart-ache that came with these songs resurfaced and grabbed hold of the place it had left alone for years—her heart.

Then she heard it. It was her song from a time passed. It was that song she played every morning to wake her, every afternoon to keep her sane and every night so she wouldn't feel lonely.

It starts with a voice and a guitar. Simple and yet complete. Words so clear and commanding they fill up the soul like the creek nearby that fills after a good rain. Very early on, the song reminds her of the days when she needed this song to push her through the place in herself in which she was stuck.

In that time, things had become different, strange and awkward. Things that once were, had disappeared with their cool even smiles and their laughter. Friends that once were vanished into a darkness that she could not find. She searched but they had left everything behind—they had left her. The music brought them back. They were there, smiling their cool even smiles and talking about forever. That kind of forever resonated and vanished with each chord strum by the guitar.

This song had seen her through the dark hole they had led her to—left her to. She was in it, alone and wondering when life would start again. How could she breathe without them and the things she had hoped would garner her better memories and happier times? When would life start? She hadn’t realized it had started while she was stuck in a hole she had created for herself. Comfortable in her discontent she stayed there, sweltering in her own disappointments. She was too busy waiting for them to come back to realize life was all around her—closing in like a warm blanket in the winter waiting for her to feel its comfort.

As the disgust of these feelings surge within her, the bongos kick into the melody bringing her back to the present. The singers' voice grows stronger. Guitar-voice-bongos; a combination she hadn’t remembered, yet the song still reflected her heartbeat and the surge of life it made her feel.

Then the drums, loud and boisterous added a complete circle to the lyrics and the message swirling, whirling as quickly as her memories. One by one the memories come, infringing on her peaceful thoughts and reminding her of every bit of every battle, every milestone, every tear, every drink, every moment, every smile, every embarrassment, every laugh, and every ache, every everything. Everything fills her heavy heart. Everything is swirling, whirling as quickly as the beat of the drums, the bongos and the guitar.

“Life is wonderful, life goes full circle, life is wonderful.” The “la-las” in between make the song reach to her even further. So simple and so clear they chant to her and lull her back from the sadness as they had once before.

Her eyes widen and a piano comes in playing simple keys she doesn’t know the names of. The keys pound into the soft part of her soul that she hadn’t revealed to anyone. Its that tender section of oneself that only a lover, a friend or a confidant can release. Yet, there it was being exposed by the keys of a piano.
She hasn’t heard the words in years. She has avoided coming back to the song that had once meant so much. What did it mean now? Could it mean as much as it did then?

It meant even more than before. It meant life, cycles, renewal, rebirth, and a reconnection with her old self to find her anew. This song was the glow of the morning sun without the promise ofthe sunset. It was the thought of life without fear of death, and courage without the fear of failure. This song meant everything. This song means everything. This song is her in the form of lyrics, a guitar, bongos, drums and a piano. It is hers and no one else’s unless they need it for a time. She would share it only for those who are stuck hard and unaware of what lies within them.

She would share her song because it was her and it was powerful.
~The Lady~

"Life is Wonderful" -Jason Mraz

It takes a crane to build a crane

It takes two floors to make a story

It takes an egg to make a hen

It takes a hen to make an egg

There is no end to what I'm saying

It takes a thought to make a word

And it takes some words to make an action

And it takes some work to make it work

It takes some good to make it hurt

It takes some bad for satisfaction

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle

Ah la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la

It takes a night to make it dawn

And it takes a day to make you yawn brother

And it takes some old to make you young

It takes some cold to know the sun

It takes the one to have the other

And it takes no time to fall in love

But it takes you years to know what love is

And it takes some fears to make you trust

It takes some tears to make it rust

It takes the dust to HAVE it polished

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la

It takes some silence to make sound

And it takes a loss before you found it

And it takes a road to go nowhere

It takes a toll to make you care

It takes a hole to MAKE a mountain

Ah la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la life goes full circle

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la life is meaningful

Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la life is meaningful

Ah la la la la la la life is full of

Ah la la la la la life is so full of love

Ah la la la la la life is wonderful

Ah la la la la la la life is meaningful

Ah la la la la la life is full of

Ah la la la la la life is so full of love...