Survival of the Fittest

I am now convinced that planning a wedding-type activity is what is used in our society to determine who precisely is meant to live on this earth. Because those who survive truly prove Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest.

It was a lovely time. Stress level once everything was at the church dropped to nil. I took my time getting dressed. The Husband looked dashing. Brother-in-Law looked swashbuckle-y, Friend looked bone-crushing-y. Thing One and Thing Two were attitude-y but gorgeous-y. In-laws were in abundance. Father was not, however Mother made up for absence of my side of the family in spades.

More than ever, I am convinced that this was the right thing to do. Renewing our promises to each other in front of witnesses that see us every day (that part for the first time) was something important to us. I got my big white dress. I looked like I felt - radiantly happy. What more can a girl ask for?

There were certain things that were odd, however. Specifically when it came to me, my weight loss, and how people perceived me.

When I saw my brother-in-law, and The Husband was bragging on how much I had lost, BIL had no clue what Husband was talking about and couldn't figure it out for a bit. The person he saw was the person he had always seen. His brain, much like mine, had never really registered that I had gotten as large as I had. He was seeing me, Sarah, as the same Sarah his brother married 13 years ago. Just a little bit older, but the same person none-the-less. Who I look like now is the picture he's carried of me around in his head, even though he's seen me at least once a year and has seen me at my highest weight. To him, I'm the same person I've always been.

My mother, who hadn't seen me since a week out of surgery, was the same way. She knew precisely what I would be looking like at this weight and had already adjusted her mental image to the one that was in her memory banks. There was no exclamations of "you look so skinny!" which was actually the kind of reaction I was afraid I was going to get as I am beginning to hate hearing that all the time. I didn't know how I would feel hearing something like that coming out of my mother's mouth. She is just happy that I am now happier with where I'm at and that I am once again comfortable in my body.

As I corseted my flabby skin into my beautiful dress that I finished in the nick of time, I felt like this was one of the first real steps back into who I really am. The me that's been hidden in the fat suit. It wasn't me, but was just attached to me, a monkey on my back (elephant perhaps?) that dragged me down.

And all throughout our trip to Vegas I was reminded that I'm back. Men stopped and looked like they used to. I mean, I'm no beauty queen, but when you have a confidence in yourself, you get noticed and appreciated visually. Strangers that would have ignored me previously struck up conversations. I could walk for forever and not have to stop and take a break so my feet would stop hurting.

The real kicker came the day we checked out of the hotel on Tuesday. From there we went to the Las Vegas Speedway so that I could get to ride along in a real NASCAR on the track. Three things occurred that after it was all said and done made me cry.

First, there was no struggle to find a safety suit that would fit me. Straight off the rack it came, and it was even loose.

Second, even though I was trepadacious about how I was going to get into the car, all it took was a quick leg over and whoosh I was in through the window as if I had been slipping into race cars all my life and it was second nature. Bo and Luke Duke had nuthin' on me!

Third, the only complication of getting out of the car was figuring out how to get my head out at the right angle with the helmet and HANS device still on. Once that was done, everything else was a breeze.

No pry bars were needed. No extra-large suit had to be found or pieced together to actually fit me. Easy coordination and off the rack apparel was all it took.

I'm normal again.

The Husband and I had a good cry over this. Him because he's so happy that I can enjoy things again, and me because I have ME back.

If you've been thinking that surgery is your only way out of the prison your body has become, do it. Do it now. I cry for the wasted years of my life, even though there were only relatively few of them compared to some of you out there. But the things that I missed doing! I'll never get them back. Now? Now I live for me. I live for my husband. I live for my children. And that life is GOOD. And it's spread out in front of me, a smorgasbord of delights that I can taste again.

Why don't you dive into your own? I'll be here for you.

Still alive. Slightly kicking. Or is that twitching?

Sweet mother of God. We will never do this again. Between a slight panic that we wouldn't have our officiant for this weekend (he has had a neck surgery postponed several times now and it almost happened this week but has now been bumped to next week), and all the usual last-minute scrambling to make sure everything is done, I'm exhausted.

We have a Costco run to make tomorrow, my mother and BIL's family arrive tomorrow, my father isn't going to make it, The Husband's parents and oldest sister arrive Friday, and I still have to call my children's school to let them know that they won't be there on Friday. I have an RV to clean, beds to make, floors to vacuum, a dress to bustle and beads to add to, a vest to make if I find the time, nails to get done, a church to decorate and a partridge in a pear tree.

In the end, we'll all have fun. Then we'll send everybody away and The Husband and I will escape to Las Vegas. In a hot tub. With lots of alcoholic drinks. And slot machines and roulette wheels. And hot stone massages. Live! Nude! Girls! Oh! And shopping! My kind of a vacation!

And to end it all? I get to go 170+ miles per hour at Las Vegas Speedway. Holy cow! And wheeee!

See y'all around this time next week!

How to Create Your Own Miniature Portable Sandstorm

Step 1: Have a Toyota Landcruiser with a bikini top. (Actually, any vehicle that can have a bikini top or even a convertible can fit this bill. I won't be a car-ist on this. Everybody needs to enjoy the sensation!)

Step 2: Have a solid month where you can't drive said car because the weather decided to go back to being winter and all cold and shit. Make sure to leave the bikini top on and do not convert your car back into "solid" mode because dammit it's just going to get warm again and you'll have to put it back on again. Also make sure that there is plenty of wind (100+ mph preferred) and that you are parked in such a way that ALL the sand in the desert blows through the vehicle. It must be very free-form, with little to no blockage of said sand, hence the importance of the whole "not converting it back to normal" part.

Step 3: Decide on a now-lovely desert morning that you want to actually drive aforementioned vehicle because it's going to be a delightful day and you really want to have some fun. Finally.

Step 4: Get into vehicle after brushing off the seatcover. Think to yourself, "Hmmm. That was a lot of dust."

Step 5: Drive slowly out the driveway and out the dirt road to the paved road. Again, think to yourself, this time saying, "Hmmmm. There's a lot more sand in this seat than I thought" as you slide back and forth on it while jouncing down the dirt road.

Step 6: Get up to speed (55 mph at minimum, with 65-75 mph preferred) on paved road. Realize that the wind that normally playfully swirls about the "inside" of the vehicle due to the aerodynamics (or lack thereof) that occur with the bikini top on is now swirling around you with the stings of billions of little pieces of sand that is being sucked up off the floor, out of the seat covers, etc. Shriek at your children to shut their eyes and to cover their mouths as you attempt to squint, drive and spit out sand at the same time. Have visions of the Sahara and wonder what it's like to be a camel in the middle of a deadly sandstorm and wonder if you will make it out of this alive or if you'll crash into something because you have been blinded.

Step 7: Drive at least 10 miles at top speed to get out all the dust. Arrive at your destination wishing you had camel-like eyelashes because damnitall, your eyeballs are now full of dirt and really, really hurt. Alot. Have children giggle maniacally about your reaction to said adventure, losing all sense of dignity in the process.

The End.

Enjoy driving with your top down! The weather is lovely outside!

I Really Have to Stop Reading Bodice-Rippers and Start Reading More Important Stuff

Because the vast majority of the "serious" books that are listed below that I've read I actually read in high school. I didn't even read Lord of the Flies until I was forced to two years ago for a college English class! Ooof! Enough with the fluff!

Tagged by Fauve
Look at the list of books below.
*Bold the ones you’ve read.
*Italicize the ones you want to read.
*Leave blank the ones that you aren’t interested in.

If you are reading this, tag you're it!

1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible (not in it’s entirety)
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)

We Interrupt our Regularly Scheduled Programming for this Rant from our Sponsor

First off, let me say that I am deeply saddened by the tragedy at Virginia Tech. In a perfect world, it would not have occurred. People wouldn't snap like that. Innocents wouldn't get hurt and killed. My heart and my prayers go out for those affected by this horrible incident and the families of those who died needlessly.

But I have to say that I have had enough of the BS that is coming not only from other countries but from those within our own about how this wouldn't have happened if only this killer hadn't had access to a weapon - more specifically a 9mm with high-capacity magazines.

How do you figure that? If he had mowed down a crowd of people with his car, he could have had the exact same effect. A bit harder to do, but still plausible.

This killer purchased the gun legally. He jumped through the hoops that are set up. He had his paperwork in order. He followed the laws. What he chose in the end to do with that gun, however, was NOT within the law. At the place where he purchased the weapon, Fox news did an interview and the employees gave the story straight - everything was in order, it was a perfectly legal transaction, and they had no indications that they should not go through with the sale. It was by the book. End of story.

The killer could have easily found the same weapon through the black market. Don't fool yourself. Far more weapons are out there and available for nebulous sales than we would like. THESE are the sales that need to be stopped, not the perfectly legal ones. But they're much harder to stop than the above-board ones. You know what they say - when you outlaw guns, the only people that have them will be outlaws, and you'll find that there will be many, many more than the government can control.

As for the high-capacity clips, since this killer was practicing tactical shooting at a range and becoming quite proficient at it, he could have been using 5-round magazines and still have gotten the same results. Once you know how to load that fast, it doesn't matter what size magazine you have. Ask a Navy Seal.

The key here is that his mental condition was undiagnosed and nobody knew about it. The legally purchased gun didn't cause these deaths. It was the man with the fractured mind behind it that killed these people. He just happened to use a gun.

My knee-jerk reaction to all the talk about limiting sales of guns makes me want to go out and bankrupt myself buying as many as I can before they take them away. I legally use my guns. I like my guns. I have no intention of using them for the same types of activities as this recent killer did. Why punish me, and the thousands upon thousands of other legal gun owners for the actions of the few?

We have a constitutional right to bear arms. This stems from the belief of our founding fathers that the people of this country have the right, should it become necessary, to take up arms against the government in times of oppression and rebel as we did against the British government. And while I honestly cannot foresee a time when this would happen, God forbid if World War III were to break out and all governments were to crumble, I want to be able to protect those I love in that dire scenario. Considering the state of our world, I would say that it's not entirely too paranoid a delusion to consider that there is a chance it might happen.

The end of this rant is the old adage that "guns don't kill people, people kill people." It's true. The millions (perhaps billions) of rounds of spent ammunition at target ranges throughout the country proclaim this truth. Not a single one of them killed another person. Just the target silhouette. And watermelons. A few of those, too.