I am having dreams of having a piece of cake, or maybe a whole cake.  It would be a many layers vanilla cake with enough frosting and coconut flakes to make me spin on my weight scale.  It would be, oh, so worthy!

At the supermarket today, I went by the bakery section, where I almost purchased a few pieces of different kinds of cakes.  I also went to the aisle where they have the already prepared mixes for cakes, I almost bought a few boxes, lemon cake, strawberry cake, vanilla cake…I guess you get the idea.

Am I pregnant?  By a holy or alien being,  you mean?  There’s not another way.  The few little hormones I have left are struggling with my issues of having a crush on someone.  They can only handle so much.  Other than that…remember, I have an incredibly humongous sense of humor.  You need to take my stuff with many grains of sea salt.  Otherwise…you will never get me.

Back to the cake issue…So I decided after a few minutes of contemplation and pondering while looking at all those delicious but not-good-for-you-trash, that I was having none of those.  An apple and some dried pineapple will suffice in my salad.  Hard life, yes, it is.

I must admit, I am getting a little tired of grazing for lunch, plantains for breakfast and quinoa and black beans for dinner.  I don’t think my taste buds even try to taste the same things over and over again.  I just chew and chew some more.  It is starting to taste like nothing much.  But I am too lazy to develop a new menu.  I will have to do that soon, otherwise one of these days, I am going to have a self-inflicted revolt and go get cake, pie, and ice cream (I am salivating as I am typing this).

For how much longer can I stand all of this turmoil in my life.  Crushes, cakes, pies, skinny pants, stilettos?  Life is getting a bit too complicated.  Maybe I should go hiking the Himalayas and eat grass on my way to the top.  That sounds very appealing.  Need to start researching that idea.  Would my lungs be able to go up so high?  We’ll find out…maybe one of these days…but, on the other hand, I may end up becoming a goat.

Until next time…please have as much cake, pie, and ice cream in my honor.  I almost can taste it already.

Your Happy Contessa

“My life is one big piece of cake… I am loving it and having it too.”  Me

Not for a moment I would doubt my IQ…I never had it tested, and if I would have, there would be a separate category for people like me.  So,  I need to question my perception of distance and height.  Let me explain…

I bought a pair of stilettos thinking they were 5 inches high and I thought…Yeah! I still got it…just to find out when I went to return the shoes that they were not 5 inches…they were at the most 3 1/2 inches high.  She showed me what five inches looked like and I couldn’t close my mouth.  So an apology is in order to my friends of a very famous social network.  I had announced to my limited world of friends (and I like I that way) that I was going to attempt to dance in those shoes.  I just couldn’t get my groove and style flowing with those now known as 3 1/2 inches high.  Another smack on my face given to me by the aging factor.  What else is checking out next?

I am aware of some other things that are shining by their absence, but, on the other hand, some other things have come back into the forefront of my life that I thought were non-existent.  I’ll keep it to myself…but can’t help to share…I think I am infatuated or have a crush on someone, so the happy, butterflies on my stomach feeling is very alive and kicking.  It feels great!

Ok, enough of that…the stilettos showing on the above picture are officially 4 1/2 inches high.  A very dear friend of mine, with whom I spent the afternoon on Mother’s Day had a measuring tape in her purse (she is almost perfect, always prepared), and she made sure I had the height right.  I insisted on trying them on.  No…I couldn’t dance with those sleek and sexy looking shoes.  I need to start accepting in my mind that my body is a good number of decades old.  The mind wants to be sexy, chic and daring, but the body just wants to play safe.  This is not a good thing.  I am definitely not ready for this kind of boring stuff.

Every day that goes by represents a-I-don’t-even-know-what-to-call-it-effect on my mind.  Someone is messing up with my brain, and I am on the search for a solution.  Ponce de Leon and the Fountain of Youth, where the heck are you now.  I am in Florida, and definitely by what I see every day, it is not here.

I can see that my small mean mentality is very active.

So…there you have it…another episode in the life of “life only gets more interesting as you age.”  Shoot the imbecile that said that.

Pondering, but Happy Contessa

I’ve reached that age where my brain went from “you probably shouldn’t say or do that” to “what the hell, let’s see what happens.”  Wish I knew who said that.

Meet the most violent corner of my home.  This is where threats are made to blow up one of the computers.  Please notice I have two, the good-old-friendly one, and the new beast that has a bloody mind of its own.  I have threatened to shoot the new beast with a bb gun I am trying to borrow from a relative, but it really does not matter what I do, say or try to intimidate it with sending it to recycle heaven, the new beast would just do as it —–well pleases.  I need to ponder on the situation because it is really a super fast, super slick, with the magic of LED, so that means everybody look prettier, and I am still paying for it!

This is like a really sour, bad, love-hate relationship going on here.  Who needs a husband, when I have something that behaves like one right here.  Seriously…

I think masochism must be on my DNA because I decided that today was the perfect day to bring out my sewing machine, the one I have not used for years.  I bought that machine to make my own curtains when we moved to North Carolina in 2006.  I calculated that the cost was going to be less than having them done by an outsider versus yours truly, and after I figured out the cost of fabric and sewing machine, etc. we were ahead a couple of hundred dollars.  So, voila, we bought a sewing machine.  Curtains came out really nice, I made sure that the pattern had lines, so all I had to do was sew in a straight line…all the time.  Mission accomplished on that one.

Now let’s move back to the future…this morning I thought about fixing two pair of slacks, croppers, because I really like them, but they are too big for my new version of skinny everything.  Like to show my total absence of curves, if you guess what I mean.  The black pair came out perfect, that was after spending one hour figuring out how to thread the machine and bobbin.  My hair is freaking out by all these new attempts.  The white pair…well, if I was 60 lbs or 30 or so kilos, they would be just perfect.  Now, the question is…I am more tempted to lose the pounds than to face that sewing machine again.

As you notice on the picture, all these machines, when in use make a community of three, versus a population of one on Planet Noury.

I feel sometimes that I need to be careful how deep I breath in my place, because one or all  of these machines may turn on against me at any given moment.

No kidding…or yes, a little.  There’s really nothing, absolutely nothing boring about my life.  Like it that way.

One interesting Cinco de Mayo in my part of the universe.

Happy Contessa

“What there’s not to like about technology and old age.”  Guess who said this.  Bingo!