Felipe Anuel

"In the role of a lifetime . . . Gary Oldman." Mmmkay!

Summer is finally here! What are your plans?

Keep on living. Keep on breathing. Keep on walking and shedding the pounds, trying to get back to my middle school weight. 320.

Master the downward dog and awkward airplane.

See Leanne Rimes with the NSO in July.

Work Volunteer for the Capitol Fringe Festival (damn economy and my kind(ish) heart). See more performances than I managed to see last year.

See Keith Urban and SUGARLAND (!!!) in August.

That's about that. Issues in the winter kinda put Tennessee on pause, but eventually . . . .

Today is Name Your Poison Day. So make a decision and tell us: what's your poison?

I picking the Poison whose lead singer got beaned by a backdrop on last night's Tony Awards.

Dammit, man! If hearing about David Carradine passing wasn't enough to make this day a bummer, I just read over at SOULBOUNCE we lost a blues legend as well. Miss Koko Taylor.

Twenty-Nine Ways (To My Baby's Door)

Koko Taylor

Koko Taylor - Ernestine (Live)

Today is Repeat Day, so we want to know: what song do you have currently have on repeat? Bonus points if you share it with us!

I haven't stepped inside in about three years, but apparently the church has stepped out of me which means I can't dare to listen to something  like Dirt Nasty's "1980" on a Sunday morning. So I downloaded some old school spirituals for my Sunday stroll and "Please Be Patient With Me" by Albertina Walker with James Cleveland. was one of 'em. And now the song has made its way into the daily rotation, as reminder that I'm in this for the long haul. I didn't get massive overnight,  so I ain't getting markedly thinner overnight. I just gotta patient with myself and celebrate the small victories. And eventually, I shall come forth as pure gold or you know some reasonably strong alloy. I'm not reaching for the stars or nothing. Just going for better.

Love when that bassline comes in strong around the four minute mark . Sometimes while huffing and puffing alongside the highway,  I have to catch myself  before I break into one of those snazzy processional  routines that the choir always broke out to celebrate their anniversaries. The Zionettes had some smooth moves and were synchronized like a mickey flickey. 

What do you plan to do when you retire?

Rig my house with balloons and fly to South America with the aid of chubby and gregarious Asian kid.

Up-movie

I was in too good of a mood. And I don't think the little bastard could hear me anyway. I went to do my weigh-in this morning. I was a little concerned, considering M had fried up some chicken last week and I lived up to that stereotype 'bout black folks and chicken (something I'd be damned if I would do on camera).  In spite of the fact, I got my exercise in  six days last week. We won't even make mention on the fact that one of those exercise session, my four mile walk, was interrupted by a side trip to CVS for a bottle of water to stay and a Cadbury Fruit & Nut bar gobbled up well before I got home to the husband.

I figured that at the worst I'd be holding at what I weighed with my last weigh-in, but no. Self-sabotage  be damned. I managed to knock seven more pounds and reach an important milestone. I'm officially out of the quarter-ton range.  Still a fat ass, but out of the five hundreds. (Well, kind of a  fat ass. As M was keen to point out, my flat ass has never been part of the problems. My fat aggregated everywhere else. Gut. Back. Thighs-- but not my chicken killer legs. And chest which I really didn't pay attention until I noticed with the weight loss my moobies getting smaller and smaller. Think I'm probably out of the Double D's and could go with a C cup now.) 

So I'm feeling good, trying to talk myself out of celebratory breakfast at IHOP, and waiting for the elevator. Yeah, I should''ve took the steps from the second floor, but I had already hit them sons-of-bitches on the way up and I was on my way to the mall for a couple laps afterward. No need to over do it. Elevator opens. I ain't paying attention and it's on it way up to the third floor. The doors slide open. There are people waiting for me to get off so that they can get on, knowing good and well I hadn't just come down from the nonexistent fourth floor. I wave 'em in. They get on with a little boy in tow. About nine or eight. I can sort of tell that he's challenged in some way, just didn't know it was in the manners department.  Stepped in front on me and gave me the tentative once-over. Then he looked at me again all wide-eyed, waved at his father and begin grunting. Poor little dude ,I thought.

As he stretched his arm over his head to indicate how tall I was, I gave him a smile that bordered on patronizing-- I'll admit it. So it kinda my serves me right that in addition to making note of my height, he also insisted on pointing on my width by holding his arms out.  Once we're out of the elevator, he is at it again! Grunting and stretching outward, like there wasn't enough room in the elevator for him properly convey my immenseness. He needed to whole breadth of the lobby to properly define it.  Like I said, I was in too good of mood to let it bother me much. And I figured he was honing his defensive skills. I'm sure he gets a lot of shit from people in his life and he's learned to cut first. Well played, you little bastard.  Then again, maybe he meant no offense and I'm just having issues with that part of me that never had a problem staying thin. My skin. And there's some stuff I need to learn to take on the chinnegan. Begin again!