Friday, December 26, 2008

A picture says a 1000 words....about your insecurities...

Hey Blog Fans

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas. We sure did. It was just the 3 of us this year, which was new. Sean and I have never had a Christmas in our 11 years of marriage, let alone since Sorcha was born, that wasn't with people other then ourselves. Every year we've gone somewhere or had people come to us which has always been lovely, don't get me wrong, and perhaps, it's selfish to have enjoyed it being just the 3 of us, but that's the way it went this year. We ate lots, and got spoiled by various family member. In the middle of opening presents Sorcha said "I'm getting spoiled here!" We are very thankful and look forward to Christmas with family next year, but probably will do this kind of Christmas every few years.

But that's not why I'm writing this particular blog entry. I'm writing for another reason. There's a picture of me posted on facebook right now that disturbs me. I'm not upset it's there. The girl who posted it posted it because her Uncle is in the picture and I just happen to be in it as well. I'm not tagged and she probably doesn't know my name. What disturbs me is how I'm sitting, my posture. It's summer and I'm wearing a fairly tight fitting tank top and shorts. I'm smiling, but my body language says that I'm not truly happy. My legs are crossed tightly, one of my hands in across my chest and clutching my neck and the other arm in draped across my stomach. I look as though I'm trying to cover myself up, to hide all the flaws about myself that I feel are there. I look as though I would turn myself into a little ball if I had that strange ability. However, I know why I'm sitting that way. I don't like my legs, so I cross them to hide them as best I can. My hand is below my neck to hide part of my upper chest because I feel that my shirt is too low. And my arm is draped across my stomach to cover any roll that may or may not be there because I've never achieved a perfectly flat stomach. (which really isn't a goal for me, but I'm still self concious about it which I know is pure silliness,but there you go.) I am not happy with body and this picture tells that story louder then I usually proclaim to anyone. Why am I a writing about this? I guess because I'm tired of feeling this way and this picture is a wake up call. (sorry for going all Dr. Phil on you). I'm not hideous, I have nothing to hide and people are too busy with their own insecurities to be worrying about my legs. And if they are worried about them...well, that's their business. I just hope they don't tell me. :)

But let's end this post on a silly note. Last night during Christmas dinner while drinking a lovely glass of wine I was proposing a few toasts when an extremely bizarre thought popped into my mind. I will share it with you to ponder...When toast sits around with friends and family and shares in a bottle of wine, do they propose a person?

Food for thought is it not?

Until next time, continued Happy Holidays!
Eat, drink,
and Cin

Thursday, December 11, 2008

There's a Moose in my Jeans!

It's been a while my dear followers, but fear not, I am back with a posting that is sure to please... or confuse. Either way, it's a new post.

Last week Sean was getting dressed (as he often does, which is a good thing) and said (not for the first time) that he found it amazing how many people wear jeans. As in, you look around when you're out and about and most people are wearing jeans. Some are wearing cheap jeans, some are wearing expensive jeans, some are wearing jeans that look cheap and ruined, but were very expensive...but still, they are wearing jeans. I muttered "yes dear...", or whatever an appropriate response was at time and moved on mentally to another thought. Sean however,
was not done with the jeans topic. He then said " You know, it's funny though, because when my Mom was a kid-" And I cut him off as I knew where he was going next in his jean key. This is how the rest of our conversation went.

"Yes, I know. Only people who worked on the farm or what have you wore jeans...We've talked about this before."

"No...that's not what I was going to say...I was going to say that when my Mom was a kid if you wanted jeans you had to go take them off a moose."

"Really...Moose just walked around in jeans?"

"Yes, and if you wanted jeans, that's how you got them."

"How could you even get jeans off a moose? Wouldn't they run away?"

"Well, they stood around a lot... "

"That would be hard to do wouldn't it, they are pretty big? And the jeans would be huge! You could get a few people in one pair of moose jeans."

And it went down hill from there. Actually we were laughing so hard at the thought of moose in jeans that conversation was rather difficult. Other strains of conversation around Moose Jeans were "Where did the moose get the jeans in the first place?" "What kinds of jeans did the moose wear?" and "Didn't they notice or get upset about people taking their jeans?" I believe the last question was answered thusly. That the key to getting moose out of their jeans was too get them drunk wait, that wasn't it. It was to have one person distract the moose with antics at the front end while another person (or persons more likely...remember, Big Moose, Big Jeans) hauled the jeans off the poor unsuspecting moose at the back end.

I don't know how many of you have obscure conversations that lead to gut wrenching laughter, but I seriously encourage it. You leave trails of happiness and laughter in your wake, or at least in your mind. Conversations like this will make me smile weeks after when I think of them. I'm easily ammused yes, but it's in my genes. (A lot like that moose over there...)

As ever,
Cinfully Silly.