Traveling with Paulie Pants

How did this blog come about you ask? Well…I’ll tell you. I looked in the mirror one day about 6 months ago and I realized there was nothing frivolous or feminine about me anymore. Oh I had bursts of being a lady now and then, but they didn’t last very long. I wore a daily attire of jeans and an oversized man’s flannel shirt. Weighing in at 297 pounds, dresses and I didn’t get along very well. With my broad shoulders and men’s haircut, I usually ended up looking more like Frankenstein in drag.

I tapped at my chin, both of them in fact and they seemed to be progressing nicely. I stripped and gave an even rarer glance at my 53-year-old reflection. A moment or two was about all I could handle. I was beginning to resemble Shamu the killer whale. In my late twenties, early thirties, I had a Marilyn Monroe shaped body. You know, the proverbial hourglass figure where the sand sifted through, measuring 60 minutes worth of time. Oh I still had the same shape, but now my hourglass measured time by the year.

I had, at what point I can not remember, come to realize that middle age is God’s way of showing a sense of humor. I did not particularly find it amusing to discover that middle was when everything started to wear out, fall out or spread out. I did not chuckle when I discovered my clothes no longer fit and I was the one who needed the alterations.

I knew when I retired I was going to travel, but I noticed one day that my body parts began to travel without me. My arms seem to have grown their own wings so no matter what part of the country I was in, I could do it without benefit of train, plane or automobile. My behind didn’t know which way it wanted to go, so it just went east and west.

My triple I breasts began heading South in my late thirties and by this time were at the equator heading for the South Pole. I shouted at my breasts almost on a daily basis “go North you idiots go North!” But alas! They, like most teenagers, never did listen. I gave a deep sigh and tried to remember a time when I had small lively little breasts, when my breasts were high, firm and there was cleavage! I canceled my walk down memory lane when I realized it was too much like exercise and I began getting a headache. “I think tomorrow I will just go out and buy one of those new, lift those bosoms like they're filled with helium bras,” I thought to myself.

It was then that I realized if I wore one of those new fangled things, I’d have a chin rest. A couple of years ago, my doctor had told me to get some exercise, but I told him then, ‘Look Doc, just pushing middle age, is exercise enough.’ I also told him that my idea of weight lifting was simply standing up. I had decided not to take up jogging the year before, when briskly walking caused my thighs to rub together and set my pantyhose on fire. I wasn’t fond of the black eyes either. The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight because by then, your body and your fat are very good friends.

On March 20th of this year, I had a breast reduction with the hopes of easing chronic back pain due to an injury I had recieved one year ago today. My equator bound breasts were now sprightly little petite C cups. I do believe the last time I saw a C was on the top of a paper I had written in junior high! The problem was these perky newly improved chest protrusions looked a bit awkward on my deluxe edition sized body. I began cutting back a little on what I ate. I didn’t change what I ate but I did cut back. Miraculously I lost 33 pounds, only 10 of which was breast.

Being out of work for this past year did a lot of damage financially and unfortunately along with the weight, I lost almost everything else as well. My beloved Francis was the first to go. Although Francis and I had only been acquainted for a year she and I grew very fond of each other very quickly. She carried me everywhere my queen sized heart desired and I in turn lubricated her chasse, rotated her tires and changed her oil every 4 months like clock work.

When I lost my home in June, some very dear friends offered theirs to me as well as their hearts. There was no catch to this offer. None whatsoever. They loved me and wanted to do for me what they felt Jesus would have done. As my contribution to their household I appointed myself as their personal chef and it seems that they have enjoyed with exuberance whatever I have created to date.

This very dear friend whom I now have the pleasure of living with loves to sew. She sews everything from wine holders to doll clothes to one size fits almost everybody pants. I call them Paulie pants. They are the most comfortable looking, lounge around the house or dining in the best of restaurants pants; all in the most delightful colors and patterns that fit every personality, every character and every shape there is. Every shape but mine that is, for I did not fit into the 'almost everybody' category. I was mortified when my measurements were taken and my Paulie pants were made by taping two patterns together.

With this said...I had been thinking about doing a blog for sometime, but I thought no one would really want to listen to my thoughts on politics, religion or the shape of the world. Since I decided after being presented with my own pair of Paulie Pants, as shockingly wonderful as they are, I knew then and there that my love of food had to take a turn for the better or I would take a turn for the worse. I also know me well enough to know that if I just say it and don’t make a commitment to someone else then I won’t really do it. So here it is.

But why publicly? Well, I got to thinking that I may not be the only one whose thoughts generally focus on food. Nor am I the only one who needs to get healthy despite ourselves. If by my sharing my life, my world and my size publicly, help will be brought to even one person then I must do exactly that. So…no matter what your size, hopefully we will all learn together. I’d love to hear your thoughts, insights, complaints, fears and I hope recipes you care to share.

If you’ve liked what you’ve read, I invite you to become one of my followers and maybe even share it with someone whose jollies could use a good chuckle or two now and again.