No Right To Bare Arms

More and more, I see women my age wearing sleeveless dresses, blouses, shirts - you name it. It's one thing if you're a size 2 and 25 years old, having firm, toned, targeted triceps... but many I see, don't. (Please cover them up. It's not pretty!) I also don't think the 50+ boney looking types look good either.. I don't get it. 

At one time in my life, I had very firm athletic guns. Very proud. I could throw a softball through a window 30 yards away (and did, a few times!). But now? I have appendages resembling my grandma Ann Beatty's fluffy wingspan. Ugh. I have to say though, I miss her embraces; those enveloping cushiony hugs that felt like a warm blanket. 

So, just as MLB spring training is right around the corner, I've decided to break out the weights. I'm even going to pack them in my suitcase and take them with me. They're only 2 lbs. each, but feel like 20 lbs. at this point. My goal is to turn these flabby upper-limbs into two sexy, sleek, firm branches. The trunk of this tree needs work too, but I'll deal with that later.

I have no right to bare arms just yet, but I will soon! :) I found this great site called eHow mom. Good stuff on getting the arms in shape! The better to hug with! The better to wave, praise and flag down a taxi - without knocking someone over. Who's joining me? :)

Laughter Is A Habit!

We're standing together in the Southwest A-List line. I'm A-22, she is A-23. She is talking on her phone when suddenly this astounding laughter burst forth cleansing the air! She has my attention. Sister Ann was wearing her habit; I was in my Phillies cap, telling her I had a "habit" too - at home - consisting of a pair of "holy" gray worn-out stretchy pants and I couldn't wait to get into them. Sister Ann laughs out loud, throwing her head back. Again - what a contagious laugh it is! All around us, travelers snicker and smile, thinking we're long-time friends. That would be no. We just met 2 minutes ago, but somehow the instant connection we feel comes from the sacredness and sarcasm of an infectious laugh. Sisters...

We knew each other, without knowing each other. I call this the merriment magnet. A good laugh can turn a boring moment into a sanctuary of healing. I asked Sister Ann to sit with me on the plane and this was her reply, "Oh boy, we better not. We might make a scene!" She was right. This flying nun and I must be separated. Too much at stake. One hundred and forty five passengers would be our captive audience, and we all know what a drug that is!

So, we aborted a potential Sister Act! :)

Click here to see this post on Sue's website.