What not to wear!

Dear Mrs. Obama's Stylist,

I am aware that your client has phenomenally toned arms, of which I am more than a little jealous. However, she has large (read enormous) hips and you need to recognize this when dressing the First Lady.

I work with a stylist that performs body shape analysis tests on women all day and the one thing you don't do is adorn a woman's "large" spots in horizontal anything...even if the article of clothing is black.

The dress seen above only makes this fit lady look rather disproportionate...as do the full skirts you keep putting her in. True, skirts tend to hide wide hips, but if not done correctly, they fall out from the widest spot making her look even wider.

Though I didn't vote for her husband and I am not a fan of hers, I don't want any woman lookin' larger than she is. Clearly, since she moved her personal trainer down from Chi-town, this woman cares about her appearance and she works extremely hard at it...so learn how to dress her figure so we can focus on the good parts and not the "less than good" parts.

Respectfully,

Yours truly

I won't be able to fit in these jeans with you on my....

My girlfriend called me this morning while I was out with Mr. Marine and said the following, "I have a pair of Rock & Republic Jeans on hold for you at the boutique. Hurry and come by."

I let out a slight (read loud) squeal and said I'd be right over.

Mr. Marine tried the "absolutely not, you have so many jeans we are not getting another pair." but it didn't go over well.

So after a few choice words about weight gain and not fitting in current jeans, he agreed to go over there with me. But only after the rude but true statement by yours truly...

"Back off or I won't be able to fit in these R&R jeans with you on my ass..."

we left the store with these gorgeous $300 jeans for ONLY $90...heck yes!

I adore y'all...I promise!

Dear lovely readers,

Just a reminder that I adore all of you and I have not forgotten about you.

I have been extremely swamped with working 2 jobs and I threw in a few extra training sessions at the gym every week, and I am so tired when I get home I can't even think of turning on the computer.

But I had a wonderful anniversary weekend with Mr. Marine and I have lots of pics to share.

I promise I will be back to my daily ramblings soon.

Miss ya,

Me

"Don't Fry Day" - On a serious note!

[disclaimer: I wrote this article for my work blog, and thought it was important to put it on my personal blog as well]

Today is Don't Fry Day, designated by the National Council on Skin Cancer Prevention to help raise public awareness of skin cancer and prevention methods as we all prepare for the kick-off to summer!

The Friday before Memorial Day is the perfect time to remind people of the serious affects from UV exposure, as well as reiterate the various ways we can protect our skin while still enjoying the warm temps and the glorious sun.

According to the American Cancer Society, skin cancer is the most common form of cancer in the United States. In fact, one in five Americans will develop skin cancer in his or her lifetime.

As I am sure many of you would attest, we become wiser with age. As teenagers, we rarely apply adequate amounts of sunscreen (despite mom's reminders) in hopes of attaining that bronze glow. I can remember lathering-up in tanning oil, and as long as it had SPF 4 I believed I was protected. I rarely burned, and if I did "it would turn into a tan the next day." After all, I had Portuguese in my blood and olive colored skin, so I was immune to skin cancer.

During the summer of 2005, I noticed a mole on my inner thigh. I thought nothing of it, and simply said to my doctor, "Will you please check this, so my mother will stop nagging me about it?" She biopsied it that day.

I had malignant melanoma.

One week later I was at MD Anderson in Houston, sitting in a waiting room staring at people that looked as normal as I did. But I also saw men and women with bodies scarred from surgeries; disfigured faces that resembled the spot a nose or ear once existed.

I know that visual is graphic, but it is reality.

Many assume, myself once included, that our earlier sun exposure will not affect us. On the contrary, one blistering sunburn in childhood or adolescence more than doubles a person's chances of developing melanoma later in life.

Now, you may not get melanoma; however, there are three types of skin cancer that affect Americans yearly.

* Basil Cell Carcinoma is the most common form of skin cancer. This type is rarely fatal, but can be highly disfiguring.

* Squamous Cell Carcinoma is the second most common form of skin cancer, and accounts for nearly 2,500 deaths.

* Melanoma is the most serious of skin cancers. The incidence of melanoma continues to rise significantly, and at a faster rate than any of the seven most common cancers.

Tanning beds are another culprit in the steady rise of skin cancer . In fact, frequent tanners using the new high-pressure sunlamps may receive as much as 12 times the annual UVA dose compared to the dose they receive from sun exposure.

I have always felt a bit hypocritical preaching to people about tanning, when I was once an avid tanner myself. To be honest with you all, I crave tanning. I miss it during the summer. I often find myself resenting those who tan, because despite my surgery and all my follow-up appointments, and despite the large scar that serves as a daily reminder, I still yearn to lay by the pool for hours with my tanning oil in one hand and an umbrella drink in the other.

But we all struggle to do things for the betterment of ourselves. We diet to maintain a healthy weight, even when we'd rather eat ice cream and cookies. We go for long arduous runs when we'd rather sit on the couch. So look at skin cancer prevention in the same manner. Enjoy the sun, in moderation and always protect yourself. The bronze glow may take longer to achieve, but it will look better than a scary hospital stay that ends in scarring and an everlasting effect on your body and well being.

So as summer approaches, wear sunscreen, bring a hat and don't "roast" as I used to say. I am now an avid spray tanner, because I am all to aware of how "tan fat looks better than pale fat."

I know this post is more serious than what I usually write about, but it is something that has affected me personally and I feel strongly about it. I am not a crazy preacher type, so all I am saying is, "Be Careful."

I Never "Sausage" Tight Jeans

Comedic act: Staring Mr. Marine and Wife

Scene One: Wife is upset that her jeans are not fitting as well as they once did.

Scene Two: She chooses a pair of capri pants to wear to the Cardinals game. She approaches Mr. Marine and states, "I feel like a sausage in these pants." 

Scene Three: Mr. Marine recalls our many drives on I-95, and the humor we both saw in the signs approaching "South of the Border." Mr. Marine then thinks it is the appropriate time to make a "funny" that he is confident his wife will laugh at.

Scene Four: Mr. Marine proudly exclaims, "I never 'sausage' tight jeans." Mr. Marine dies laughing!

Scene Five: Wife, disgusted, walks away before she punches Mr. Marine.

P.S. If you have ever seen some of the South of the Border signs you have seen this one, "I never sausage a place," as well as my favorite, "Cool today, Hot tamale."  

Ode to the Corps - Or not?

Disclaimer: The following feelings are mine and mine alone so please don't be offended if you feel differently. This is not a gripe about others, but rather about a dispute between Mr. Marine and myself!

I love my Country. I love Mr. Marine. I stand behind our men and women in uniform.

That being said...I love my home and I love its modern design and unique artwork. If a picture is framed in something other than a sleek silver frame it bugs me to death! Hence the "discussion" that began the other night.

We have a lonely console table at the base of our stairwell and I was waiting to frame some of my fave pics and display them above said table with a vase of flowers displayed on the table.

Then Mr. Marine decides he wants to hang his 3 commissioning certificates there (in their nice antique frames). And put a huge 500 page Semper Fi book on the table. With his Company group pics from Boot Camp and OCS.

"You know, like a space for my Marine stuff," he explains

"No, you mean like some ate-up Ode to the Corps spot?" I laugh.

Now please don't misunderstand and think I hate the USMC; it just doesn't belong all over the house. If we had an office...it could go there. Or he could take it to his office once he takes over the XO position next year and gets his own space.

I have a very dear friend whose husband keeps all his gear in the garage and he changes before he ever walks in the door. She is very active in the OWC and works tirelessly for the Wounded Warriors, but she doesn't want the Marine Corps to take over the house and family as well. I agree. This job is all-encompassing. It does define us (ouch, that hurt to say). But I want a small piece of my life to be "normal" and that is my home. 

So I left the issue alone - for now - to avoid a fight. But I am putting my foot down on this one. I don't have USMC blankets strewn over my couch (though I do own one). I don't have Marine Officer paraphernalia in the house. I don't wear USMC shirts (at least not if I can help it). I don't tell time by the military clock. And I do not own a shirt that reads "I have one of the few," or "Sleep Safe. Sleep with a Marine." And I do not have a sticker on my car that reads, "Marine Wife - Toughest Job in the Corps" (though I wouldn't argue).

At the end of the day, I am not a Marine, I am married to one. I often have days I am angry with the USMC and I don't want to have to come home and feel like they own me too.

So...there will be no Ode to the Corps corner in mi casa. 

P.S. If you proudly display your husbands stuff, and the various objects they sell to represent the branch your husband serves in, you are the majority so don't be offended by my rant. Please. I know some very proud Marine wives who I have the privilege of being friends with who disagree with me on this. So in the end, I'm probably just being a b-atch and like a child, this is my way of showing my independence :) Hey, at least I'm not coming home with purple hair and a lip ring!

Random Monday Musings

Random Point #1 - The lovely granite installers came today to deliver our new granite countertops. I am deliriously excited! Only a few more days and I can unveil the before and after pics!

Random Point #2 - I am all about facebook status updates, but the people who leave rude comments aimed at irritating other people are stupid. We are all adults, so take your passive aggressive ways and ditch 'em. Grow Up! 

Random Point #3 - I think all days should be Military Spouse Appreciation Day (or MSAD according to Mr. Marine). I eagerly informed him of the May 8 date and he accused me of trying to pull a scam to get some attention! The nerve! 

Well, I sent him his own office's press release and then I began my negotiation tactics. Since we both get up really early on Friday, I allowed him to wait until Sat to deliver the goods... He did try and weasel his way into a day of his own "Military Member Appreciation day" but I laughed and quickly explained...

"Honey, every day that I faithfully waited for you I showed my appreciation. Each time I held it together instead of bawling about the car breaking down, the cat scratching me to death, the cat running away and hiding under the Col. car while I crawled under it with a can of tuna...I was showing my appreciation. Every time I paid off a bill instead of going to the spa with our added income...I was showing my appreciation. Oh, and all the times I leave my friends and family behind to follow you...I am being appreciative of the love you show me and the job you do. So every day is MMAD...get over it!"

So we went shopping for a dress. Poor guy. I don't do massive crowds with teenagers and Forever 21 was my personal hell. I had to leave. Despite the deals. Despite the cute clothes. I couldn't handle it. So I got his cute dress at Ann Taylor Loft.

Then he took me out for drinks at Elephant Bar, then to a friends house for a little shindig. Oh, did I mention he took me to breakfast? Even more importantly, when the dog pooped on our walk...he didn't make me pick it up since it was MSAD. 

Ok...a bit of randomness for you this beautiful Monday.

Tomorrow...Ode to the Corps (or not!)

It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To...

That's right lovely ladies, I am having a big ol' pity party right here on my couch!

I was recently given the infamous Neno's Award by two fab bloggers The Rest Is Still Unwritten (who just got a gorgeous new blog design from Casey) and That's Classy!

The purpose of this award is to tell all of y'all why I love blogging. So as I sit here, alone, waiting for my husband to get home from a really late meeting...I thought I'd divulge my reason for boring y'all with my daily musings...

I hope you can handle the truth because it is a really really sad truth (but one I have come to accept)...

I blog because I have no friends in this damn city and I have diarrhea of the mouth and need to let it out. And since I don't have anyone here I really hang out with (except one dear friend who lives way on the other said of town)...I must unload on you sweet ladies. 

I need to babble, rant and rave, crack myself up, and share fashion secrets with someone and since Mr. Marine can only handle so much of me, I had to find another outlet. Bwahahahaa lucky you!

Mr. Marine fondly refers to each of you as my "imaginary friend" and sadly, he is on to something! Though, in my defense, you are not imaginary because I see pics of y'all and I get to read your funny stories too...and you comment back to me!

So thank you...for being such wonderful imaginary friends. You are the best!

Now...for people who don't blog for pathetic reasons...tell us what brought you here to this bloggy world... I tag all of you (I know, that's the easy way out, but I really want to pass the love around on this sad, lonely, loveless night...)

Ok...I'm not quite that bad...well, sorta...nevermind!

You Tell It Like It Is Dolly!

I absolutely L.O.V.E. this woman and she tells it like it is...

 "You Either Starve or You Get Fat...It's a Bitch"