Life is like a blender and I'm stuck on Frappe!

I was ADHD, dyslexic, and menopausal and yesterday, I was a bitch. I loved parties. I am a party animal. The only party I wanted to have yesterday however was of a pitying nature and it was going to be a doozie. The clock on my nightstand read 4:15 a.m. My inner clock was telling me to ‘Rise and Shine!’ . “Rise and shine? Today I’ll be luck enough to crawl out of bed and glow ever so dimly” I thought to myself.

It was habit, to get up at the butt crack of dawn, since I was used to being up early to fill baking orders. I would much rather stay in bed and feel sorry for my self. There was something about yesterday though, that just felt different. It was nothing I could put my hands on. Just a feeling I had. Like yesterday my life was going to change.

I walked through my door at 5:45 and decided I needed pampering, so I decided to start my day with freshly made crepes and a warm blueberry syrup, along with a couple of slices of brown sugar bacon. Maybe I’d even use real cream in my flavored coffee today instead of the fat-free, taste-free milk, which didn’t do this body any good anyway.

So after I ate breakfast and cleaned the kitchen, I decided I was going to treat myself to a facial mask and a hot bath. The problem was I had bought that tube of mask about eons ago and then proceeded to forget where I had put it. I saw it just the other day. Now where was that?

I searched through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. I found all kinds of vitamins and the like, all of which I never remembered to take, but I didn’t find the mask. I looked under all of the sink, and got a knot on the top of my head the size of a meatball, for the effort, but no mask. I looked in the hall closet and under the beds all to no avail. I did find about a million hairballs, a missing slipper, a hairbrush I had been looking for and a mousetrap that still had not been sprung, but was missing the cheese. Apparently, I wasn’t as smart as the mouse however because I now had one very sore thumb.

Now where could I have put it? Maybe it would just be easier to go out and buy a new one. I am dressed already. No. I know me and if I leave the house now, I won’t be back for hours what with all the well wishers on my blog and errands that I would just have to oblige myself to get done since I was out anyway. No, I’ll just skip the mask and go have something else to eat.

I went to the refrigerator to get some comfort food. Knowing I had made a commitment on this blog I hesitated. What I needed was one of those alarm systems for cars that talk, but for my refrigerator. You know the kind that would shout STOP! YOU ARE TOO CLOSE! STEP AWAY FROM THE CREAM PUFFS! Or maybe a talking scale. I’d probably cringe when I actually heard the numbers instead of just seeing them. There’s just something about hearing ‘Okay one of you has to get off’ that would make me sew my mouth shut for the next hundred pounds or so.

As I stood there with the refrigerator door open contemplating what marvelous culinary masterpiece I was going to plaster to my thighs, I saw out of the corner of my eye, a pale beige tube with bold green lettering. I knew I had seen it somewhere! Oh I remember now, I read someplace that the cold does wonders for your pores. Shrinks them up or something. I needed all the shrinking I could handle even if it was only my face. This was supposed to be one of those, all-day face-lifting, gravity-fighting moisturizer with wrinkle filler and spackle masks. I read the tube to myself out aloud. ‘Maureen’s Magnificent Mask’ it stated. ‘Cleanses, exfoliates and moisturizes all in one. Gets your skin tingly clean.’ Might as well try it. I hadn’t had a good tingle in years.

I turned to the tub and turned on the water. I decided to live dangerously and added two capfuls of Channel No. 5 essential bath oils to the water instead of my usual one. It was my pity party after all. As the tub was filling, I opened the chilled facial mask and began applying it to my cheeks. The shock of the cold had me sucking in my breath. Gee. They were shrinking already. Whoever said this was healthier, was a masochist.

After carefully reading the directions and applying this green wonder to my face when I looked up to see the finished result I was shocked to see a rather scary resemblance to Frankenstein’s Bride. I shuddered and turned from that horrid reflection. I had just put my foot in the water when the phone rang. I gave a deep sigh, wrapped up in my beach towel (They were the only ones big enough to fit around this plentiful body of mine) and grudgingly answered the phone.

It was a sales call, telling me I for only $49.95 I could buy this new metabolism increasing marvel that was sure to put a little zip in my life. Well so would George Clooney but I didn’t think that would happen either.

With my shoulders drooping now just about as much as my once sagging breasts, I decided to forego the bath for a little while longer. I put on my old enough to have a driver’s license tattered chenille bathrobe. I stuffed my feet into my puppy mangled slippers (Remind me to get new ones. My puppy is now ready for the geriatric ward at the vets) and went to the kitchen. Again.

I had heard something about a cabbage soup diet, so I decided to go on line and check into it. I figured it would take a while so I made myself a small snack to sustain me in my hour of affliction. Between the phone calls and the scare at the bathroom mirror, I decided I was deserving of this comforting tidbit. Since my food was controlled by my emotions and my emotions were controlled by the mirror, I was going to need a heck of a lot of comforting.

I had some vanilla ice cream in the freezer. How about cookies and ice cream? I could make myself an ice cream sandwich. Naahh. I wanted something yummy and exotic. I know. How about a Virgin colada? I hadn’t had one of those since… last week. That sounded good to me. I gathered the quart of vanilla ice cream, the pineapple juice and cream of coconut and made the enticing cocktail.

I was just about to sit down at my computer to check on the diet in question, when the phone rang again. I could not believe my luck. At least this time however, I had the phone with me. It was a wrong number.

Who could concentrate on research now? The diet would just have to wait until I was in a better mood. What I needed was to take that soak in the tub. That would be relaxing. Maybe that would even cheer me up after the disappointment of not being able to begin that diet I so desperately wanted to get going on. I had to do something about my weight I knew, but what? I’d have to give it some serious thought. Maybe I’ll take a nice hot bath.

I went to my bathroom and for a second time that day I studied my reflection. I don’t know what I expected to see, because the face that stared back at me wasn’t any different than it had been for years. Somehow I thought today, maybe I would look like Kate Winslet. HA!

The water was now barely lukewarm. I refilled the tub with as much hot water as I dared. Once I sat, I added a bit more hot water. I had learned from experience that when you put a body of this proportion in one of those little tiny tubs there was only room for a cup or two of water. Anymore than that and I could cause a tidal wave. I put a cool cloth over my mask covered face that by now had hardened so much I would probably need a hammer and chisel to get it off and sat back with my Big Gulp of pina colada. Gosh it felt nice to relax. Maybe I’ll take a little nap in here.

I was just beginning to drift off into that twilight zone just before sleep hits when I was abruptly and rudely I might add, awakened to the sound of my front doorbell! As I rose to yell at the persistent front door pest, I dropped my drink into the tub and now found myself covered in tufts of pineapple flavored vanilla ice cream. This can not be happening! I WANT TO TAKE THIS BATH WHILE I’M STILL IN MY FIFTIES!

Tomorrow…Part Two of the morning from Hates.

French crêpes

1 cup flour
3 eggs
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind (or a little grated vanilla bean)
2 tablespoons cognac (optional)
2 tablespoons melted butter
1 1/2 cups milk

Whisk together all ingredients until well blended, making sure there are no lumps.
Heat a 10-inch skillet and add 1 teaspoon melted butter, tilting the pan to coat it completely with the butter.

Pour half cup of the batter into the pan, tilting to cover the bottom in a fairly thin layer. When lightly browned on the bottom, (2-4 minutes) turn with large spatula, or flip if you are able to do so. Continue cooking another 2-3 minutes or until slightly browned. As each crêpe is cooked, remove it to a hot platter and keep warm. Re-butter pan as needed.