Activism

Since I have committed myself to a life of activism--staying physically active--I have decreased my time in front of good old TV. I average about 4 hours per week these days. But months ago, as a pacifist (that's the opposite of activist, right?) It was much more than that; more hours in front of the TV than I care to admit. OK FINE! Some days were spent entirely in front of the TV--cue shameful head-hang.

More than half of my weekly TV hours are spent watching Dr. Phil and Oprah. Call me a middle-aged woman with emotional problems if you must. Phil has become a little too sensational for my taste, but it takes a lot for Oprah to irritate me. As I was indulging in my laziness today, listening to Laura Bush chat with Oprah, I saw a few ads that got me thinking. First, the lap-band surgery. I realized that I am officially under the healthy weight to consider lap-band surgery--meaning I am too skinny to have lap-band surgery! WOW, I haven't been too skinny for ANYTHING in a long time. I'm mindful that lap-band is a last resort for morbidly obese people, but still, it was a moment. At first I was happy, then I thought, UGH, now I REALLY have to do this the hard way.

Then there came the plus-size bra ad from Playtex. So irritating. I get it, heavy-set women in their bras talk about how freeing it feels to wear big, breathable hosiery. But as a big, busty woman myself, I can tell you from experience--PLAYTEX bras are horrible!! First of all, the bra comes in a BOX, A BOX. They spent so little time at the factory fabricating the misshaped garment that they actually had time to put it in a box. Secondly, and most important, it is NOT supportive. Maybe I got the wrong size, but I decided to pass on the RIGHT sized boob-holder that makes me look like cone-shaped, slouching granny. I think I would rather see a grown man in a whip-cream bikini than watch that ad again.

I exercised today! But it was a sad reminder that from now on I MUST get up at 6:00 am. The SoCal sun is getting too hot to exert my body beyond breakfast time. The hot where I live is not like the beach, it is very dry, and exhausting. I took my daughter up the mountain trail again. Oh, by the way, apparently the things I call mountains are "Hills" around here, but I don't buy it. Those beasts are mountains to this mid-western girl, okay!? I sound cynical and grouchy, but that is just my menstrual migraine talking (you're welcome for sharing, now you can write it in your day-planner to prepare for next month), I am actually very happy today, and very proud to call myself an activist.