Wonder Woman

Scared Shitless…But Doing It Anyway!

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

Three weeks ago I was in Thailand with my boyfriend, who, on the second day of our trip, decided to end things with me. There was no fight. No argument. No nothing. Just a surprise conversation while lying in bed together. Talk about a sure fire way to lose your libido!

If I am honest with myself, I knew the relationship wasn’t quite right (mostly for him) I am optimistic and he is a pessimist. He is a neat freak whereas I am not so anal. I embrace life and love fiercely whereas he says he isn’t sure what love really is. But I knew the end was coming when he said I reminded him of his mother..he disliked her. And, well, the big thing…he has never found me attractive…yes, he had the gall to say it (more than once) and as we all know there was nothing I could do about that except lose my confidence and start feeling somewhat insecure. But still I persisted. Why? We laugh a lot, had great ___, are compatible and were economically similar. And he taught me things, important things like fly fishing, he values our friendship and a truly nice man who tries to look out for my best interests even when I am sometimes unable to determine what they are. Sometimes as you age the things that were once high on your priority list suddenly slip a little while other once inconceivable things now take their place. Luckily, we are good friends and enjoy each other’s company so we still had a good time but seriously walking on the beach NOT hand-in-hand was not exactly how I envisioned a beach trip to Thailand and Laos.

Anyway, the day before leaving the country, I put my house up for sale…kind of on a whim but then again not. It sold in one day. I worked hard on this house. New wood flooring, painted the inside and outside myself, new roof, faucets, fixtures and tile in the bathroom, a beautiful garden with 7 ft high fence to keep the elk out, along with numerous other projects all completed in two years. I love this house, that I painted red which was located then two miles from the ocean. And I sold it and a whole lot of what I owned. Why? Right now….this second…. in this moment of complete panic… I am not sure why. But deep in my heart I know I did the right thing and these are the reasons I believe I did:

Fist off, I think the housing market is going to crash and wanted to get out while the getting was good. I didn’t want my house to be worth less than I paid for it. Secondly, I live on almost an acre and one-half and with the traveling I have been doing it isn’t practical with all the mowing and upkeep on the garden. Furthermore, I do not like the direction that this country is headed at the moment. And finally, I always wanted to try to live in another country for a bit. Everything combined created the perfect storm and I went for it. Now, as I pack boxes and unload many of my earthly possessions I am questioning myself.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Perhaps it is early onset dementia?

“Yes, maybe. I couldn’t remember the word for fork the other day”

“Everyone says start writing notes to yourself.”

“You tried that and lost the notebook”

“What kind of 64 year old woman sells everything and sets off an a big adventure that most 18 yo’s without gut issues, hearing aids, and often severe gas don’t even consider?”

And so it goes. The never-ending songs inside my head.

So here is the plan. I hope to housesit around the world. I will be homeless May 15th, a week later will attend my youngest daughter’s graduation from college, fly to my other daughter’s house in Tennessee, visit my Dad in Michigan then by the middle of June arrive at my best friends house in Las Vegas. Then, June 20th, I will leave for Queretaro, Mexico to housesit for two months. It’s a beautiful historic town and I think I am going to enjoy stepping back in history a bit. From there…who knows. But Ecuador seems to be calling my name.

I hope you will join me on this crazy journey that I am taking and know if I can do this you can do something scary and a bit difficult too. And if you want to know about where I was five years ago with a cheating husband and my six kids, well then, just read this blog!

Halloween Hooters

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 11 Comments

Sigh. Today I was invited to a Halloween party. Usually I wait to the last minute to get a costume and as  result I get to choose between two: this and that.

But this year I am getting a jump on things. I’m shopping early and there are so many choices when you don’t wait until October 30th to find something to wear.

In case you haven’t guessed, I am not a big fan of Halloween. I don’t like dressing up in funny costumes. I don’t like slogging my way through drunken people with sharp tails and dull wit, being haunted by Casper the Ghost, and smelly vampires who are dressed as blood-sucking politicians. I also don’t like the fact that evil is personified in the face of an 8 yo slasher who comes to my door. But what I really distain is the fact that woman are objectified no matter what the costume is. Frankly, I don’t know if I am just jealous that I will never look like these women again or if it really does offend the feminist in me. For instance take a look at these halloween designs.

Now, I don’t know about you but the history books I was taught from stated that pirates had scurvy, rickets, no teeth, poor hygiene and lice. Lots of them. And frankly, I don’t know how these poor pirates would make it out on the high seas with such skimpy clothing. Looks like a guarantee for deathbed pneumonia and burial at sea to me.

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I suspect that B would like this one and what man wouldn’t?

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Having a woman grant your every wish followed by a wide eyed “Yes Master” is probably every man’s dream.Of course, this also encourages that harem/polygamist idea that has been  floating around in the back of their heads since they were six too. But frankly, if Jeannie is suppose to represent a Middle Eastern woman she needs to put on more clothes.

The Angel vs. the Devil on my shoulder thing seems to be another men’s fantasy.

 

And one can easily see why they are such popular characters. I don’t know what Bible the designers are reading but it certianly isn’t the King James. Yet, the most gruesome thing of all about these particular costumes is being forced to wear 7 inch heels to a Halloween party…now that is just worse than burning in hell!

I have recently noticed the candy bar costume has come into vogue. The first thing I will say is that she looks like a Mounds Bar not a Snickers. But what bothers me more is that this is obviously the kind of outfit should come with a warning that every leering weirdo guy will hit on you uttering the words “I enjoy eating snickers” as a part of them melts while imagining that they are removing your chocolate coating.

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I also have a problem with the action figure costumes. While Wonder Woman may be able to get the job done I suspect it would be twice as hard when you are having to constantly worry if your nipples are showing and pulling up your bustier between punches. And the cape? Well, it isn’t made of ermine to keep you warm as you are flying through the night sky. And how does she avoid gigantic goosebumps when being photographed in the middle of New York in 32 degree weather?

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Next up…the animal costumes.

 

Okay, as far as I know all of these creatures can give you rabies. That’s bad enough but that zebra tail looks like something out of an S&M show. That rabies/S&M combo seems just as terrifying as ebola. Cat’s or bummies are both very soft and furry…the benefit of wearing these…I don’t have to shave for several months.

I know there are many men who think that women look good in a uniform and these certainly don’t disappoint. I suspect if the Armed Services used these woman as recruiting tools that we would have an overflow of dedicated new soldiers.

Of course there are always those in the SERVICE industry. I tell you what, if all the hospital nurses looked like that they would be filled to capacity (the hospitals that is)

Yes, Halloween costumes for women this year look like what you would wear to a masquarade ball at a sex club. So I decided to take a gander at the men’s dress up gear.

 

Appears that they only have the penis costume which comes in large and larger. I like costume this because it makes it easy to spot the biggest dick in the room very easily and steer clear.

Which leads me to the costume I have picked out. It seems appropriate for a 55 year old woman…not to frilly, not too fancy, it comes in a very slimming color and I don’t have to wear heels or panties!

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Mrs. Hot Pants…304 Days To Fix This

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

If there is one thing that makes me quiver in fear it is costumes. The kind of sexy-for- your-eyes-only, see-through, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination…oops my nipples are showing type of ensemble meant to be worn in the bedroom and not in public unless you are seriously, seriously drunk. I hate them. My thighs are too fat, my legs too short and my head too big. They are meant for 25-year-old girls who eat a piece of lettuce for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and that’s only when they are indulging. When I was 20 years younger and untold pounds thinner I could do this. At this age, I just think I look like Winnie The Pooh Stuck In the Honey Tree with a dash of Miss Piggy in a wetsuit thrown in. (Yes, we woman are too hard on ourselves but we will save that discussion for another day!)

Unfortunately, my husband recently told me that he misses seeing me in this type of attire. He’s a visual kind of man he tells me. He’s a I wanna’ see before I touch kinda’ guy and so I began to peruse the “can’t-touch-this-sexy-momma” online store and did I ever get some ideas.

Unfortunately, I could not find the “this-is-the-one-to save-your-marriage” type of look though with the mid-life crisis component of the “let-me-marry-my-younger-than-my-daughter-aged secretary” being all the rage in men these days; the innocent school girl look just might do. Unfortunately, I suspect on a 55-year-old woman it might be more reminiscent of a Catholic priest in drag than anyone B used to date in high school. Yep, this one is definitely a five drink minimum proposition before I would even consider reliving my teen years again.

I considered the sexy santa suit/wear but with the twelve animals that would have to imported and the fees associated with the mandatory quarantine… well… it began to feel a somewhat sacrilegious to me. And in truth, making that “bowl-full-of-jelly” scene appear in real life would probably make B swear off Christmas for the rest of his life. Besides, red isn’t my color.

The policewoman outfits were kind of attractive but it is doubtful that I could get B into a pair of handcuffs because he knows that with the mood I am in I might be charged with “unlawful entry” when I got done with him. He’s smart enough not to take the chance.

The French maid was adorable in the photo. And the genuine feather duster, I must confessed turned me on. In fact, that whole maid idea got me so excited I decided to hire one next week to clean my house. But I’m willing to bet she won’t be French and won’t have cleavage that enters the door one minute before the rest of her.

Many afternoons I spent in search of the perfect “look-I’m-trying-to-make-an-effort-to-turn-you-on”clothing. Finally, after I had just about given up, I came upon the obvious choice. What with my skills used for fighting for truth, justice and the American way, leaping over a minefield of toys in a single bound, and having perfected my mind reading abilities in order to determine which child is the culprit;  I realized there was only one costume that would do…

The one…

The only…

Superhero…

For mom’s everywhere…

Wonder Woman.

And it works because I AM the original wonder woman creator of the “perfect” family and even more a “no yell” kind of world. Even better, the costume fits me perfectly too…but unfortunately for B I don’t look like her in it!

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