The Third Act

          The last chapter of one’s life does not necessarily have to be the end of one’s story.  Like the three acts of a play, Act III can usher in a new beginning, a sequel, a spin off.

          I have often wondered what happened to Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy after she accepted his marriage proposal.  Did Sam and Annie ever date after they met at the top of the Empire State Building? Are Baby and Johnny dancing somewhere in a retirement community? Did Scarlet she ever win Rhett back?

The end of their story on paper or film left us expecting more.

I am in my third act and it is not The End just yet.  I expect great things in my Act III.

I believe in reinvention. I love to learn and the best way to do that is to seek people and places that feed my curiosity. Reinvention is what keeps me “young.”

I like people of all ages. Because I like to learn, almost all of my mentors are younger than I. They know the latest trends in technology, social media, and information.  I like to read and value the past, so I like to meet folks who have had more experiences than I have.  I join groups and volunteer and show up to things. It widens my horizon. It helps me discover new passions and interests. 

My life did not end when I reached Act III age. It is a new beginning.  I know it did not end for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Sam and Annie, and Baby and Johnny.  I certainly hope Scarlet reinvented herself and won Rhett back. That girl had some major issues, so if she can, there is hope for all of us. 

Ode to the Points

(A found poem is made from an already published piece – an essay, a newspaper article, a journal, someone else’s poem.  The “poet-to-be” selects words, phrases, or lines that strike the poet, then restructures that collection into a new, free-verse poem.  I took my journal where I track my daily food intake for my WWs diet to create the following “poem.” It is made from food entries, their point values, and thoughts. As you will see, the diet started off religiously but soon gave way to temptation.)

Week One

·       Thirty Daily Points Total.

·       ¼ c oatmeal – 2 points.

·       Greek Yogurt – 3 points

·       WW cheese stick – 1 point

·       One serving of cod – 1 point

Week Seven

·       Track More. Don’t Lie to Yourself.

·       Office donuts!

·       2 T RF peanut butter – 6 pts

·       McD’s Egg White Delight (sandwich only) – 8 pts

·       Strawberry dessert – 5 pts

·       Hair done

·       Size 12 pants!

·       2 HM chocolate grahams – 5 pts

·       Whataburger Jr. – 11 pts

·       2 IHOP Harvest Grain pancakes (no butter, no syrup) - 12 pts

·       Small bag of chips – 5 points

·       Yikes!

·       Three prunes

·       Stick. To. The. Plan!

·       Turkey – 1 pt

Week Sixteen

·       Minus twenty-one lbs!  Only fifteen more to go.

·       ¼ cup oatmeal – 2 points

I Am Sorry, Orlando

I was going to write the weekly blog about something funny.  Maybe about husbands or diets or my allergy to milk and what it does to my social skills.

I was going to write the weekly blog about TV shows, summer reads, or how to write a steamy love scene in your next romance novel.

I was going to write the weekly blog about my persnickety ways, my attempt to be alluring, my dislike for boiled okra.

I was going to write the weekly blog on something outrageous, maybe about how nothing over a size 16 should be called petite or iffy body piercings for women over fifty or a dozen nifty things I found on Pinterest to do with old pantyhose.

But I usually write my blog on Sunday mornings and post it on Mondays at 6 am and I woke up this Sunday to find the world had gone crazy again.

Some lunatic took it upon himself to rid his part of the world of people he did not like and took the lives of over fifty people just because he deemed himself  better than them.

Some loser who aspired to a radical group that didn’t know he existed, some wife beating, egotistical nobody who grew up to be the epitome of the school yard bully went into a bar/night club and took the lives of others just because his soul and mind were full of hate and loathing.

He should have pointed the gun at himself first.

I was going to write the weekly blog on some silly nonsense, a play on words, a jumble of sentences to make my readers laugh or giggle or ponder the world around us. 

I just couldn’t find my funny this morning. 

Liver and the Pursuit of Thinness

          I have ingested liver and enough steel-cut oatmeal and rice cakes to choke an elephant. I consumed a grilled cheese sandwich once where both the “diet butter” and the “diet cheddar” refused to melt.

I have wrapped myself in Saran Wrap, tried an electrode belt around my waist, and I bought a Thigh Master from Suzanne Somers. 

          I have done The Grapefruit Diet, the Hard Boiled Egg Diet, and the Cabbage Soup Diet. If the plan had a number in its title, I waded through all of them – 3-Day, 7-Day, 14-Day Diet, etc.  I did Adkins and South Beach, Nutrisystem and Jenny Craig.  

          All of this in the pursuit of thinness.

I started this odyssey in the late seventies after I packed on thirty pounds of “baby weight” after birthing my three kids.  My family doctor suggested I try a 1000-calorie diet, handed me a mimeographed sheet listing a handful of boring foods, and sent me home with a prescription for some fat, black pills that the FDA has since banned.  I took the pills for three months and lost all my weight along with my ability to sleep and blink.

In my obsession to be thin and healthy, I was killing myself.  

I grew up eating starches and sweets.  My taste buds preferred fried versus fresh or broiled, and any vegetable on my plate had to be disguised in a cream of mushroom cheese sauce. My side dishes were either tortillas or slices of white bread. Salads were considered a garnish.

I didn’t need a doctor or a celebrity to tell me why I was overweight.  I didn’t need a plan or a pill or a product. I needed common sense and motivation.  I needed to change my diet, my mind set, and my life style, but I needed to do it right. I needed support, encouragement, and accountability.  I needed guidance.

Over the years, I have joined, quit, and rejoined Weight Watchers so many times I have lost count.   

Back in 1974, the plan required I eat liver once a week. It was considered “good for you.” In the 90’s, WWs introduced the Fit and Fiber plan. I gained on that plan because it gave me license to overeat high calorie foods, but at least I was regular.   

I have outlasted all the celebrity WWs who have rolled off the wagon over the years: the Duchess of York, Jennifer Hudson, and Charles Barkley. I have stuck with Points, Pro Points, Points Plus, and now the Smart Points. I have eaten my share of Smart Ones.

And I am still a returning member.

I love WWs because it changes with the times.  Gone is the liver; fruits and vegetables are the new must-eats. WWs uses the latest science in weight loss, control, and maintenance, but it also takes into account a dieter’s psychological needs. I need a nonjudgmental support system, especially if I plan to kick this pesky fried liver and onion habit.