Beyond Celebritydom

Kelly and Michael. If you don’t recognize these paired names, then you are not a Celebritydom visitor.

One of my visits happen at 10 a.m. two or three times a week. I sit at my kitchen high chair, sideways to the counter, with my 15 inch TV in front of me as I eat my breakfast. I don’t usually stay for the entire show – unless the kitchen needs major cleaning - but I always make it through the host chat.

Like a lot of people, I bought the chemistry between the two of them; the “TV wife” that Michael referred to her as, and how he called her “my lady” while telling her to cover her coffee mug before they shook their confetti sticks.  When I heard that he’s leaving, I gasped with disappointed surprise. Why? His position, which was likely approved by Kelly, a job that catapulted him into the big league, beyond the “already successful” status that he was enjoying before Live… Why? Doesn’t he owe more than four years?

Does he? Or is it my selfish desire to be entertained while I eat my cereal and fruit, or on a ravenous day, my bacon, eggs, and toast? Yes… that’s what it is. My charming and personable breakfast companion is leaving me.

As the days passed and each gossip TV show added more to the debacle (the snubbing of Kelly from the powers that be), my thoughts and interest grew along with them; especially during the highly anticipated re-entry of Kelly to the show after a few steam-filled days off. She’d be back on Tuesday, everyone was saying… which just happened to be the morning of my mammogram.

Umph! I’ll have to record it!

Funny… I never did watch it; didn’t have to. Every time the TV was on, someone was showing a clip of Kelly’s angry, yet composed, speech. Between her and Prince, I sacrificed Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy to watch ET and Inside Edition.

Anyway… As I watched, I sensed a vulnerability in this woman who reportedly earns $15 or $20 million a year. And then it hit me… All that money, and her power is limited. She’s at the mercy of the men at the top of the pyramid; the men who took one of theirs – fellow male specie, Michael – and placed him in a position where they presume he’ll make more money for them. And I’m sure they paid him a boatload to do so.

So yes, this goes beyond celebritydom. This is business; real life. How did this happen to, I assume, the smart and savvy Kelly? I can’t help but see her in another light now – still confident and funny, however different. It may sound like I’m blaming the victim, but I’m not. Quite the opposite, actually. Someone else’s disrespect has cast a shadow on her; albeit, temporarily, I’m sure. But Kelly, like regular worker bees, has to watch her back from now on. And Michael – aside from the money – I understand why he’s moving on. He has an opportunity to move beyond his sports job and his play job to GMA, where his proximity to serious issues and a different kind of production will add another dimension to his career. Best wishes to both of them.

Always be prepared for your next act.

Body Shaming

It’s not what you think.  Well, maybe it is. I had my first overt experience with it a few days ago; this newly coined phrase that defines messages used to tell people that his or her body is not what it should look like. Based on my brief encounters with media explanations, i.e. Internet, TV, and tabloid magazines while standing in the grocery store line, the majority of the opinions express disgust with a person’s weight; what they feel is an abundance of it. But I’ve also heard body parts being honed in on, like height, breast and/or butt size, facial features, and hair. On rare occasions, I hear or read of a thin person getting a lashing. And it seems that the recipients are mostly women.

I love food. Currently, I’m having an affair with avocados and Tostito corn chips. It’s my overly snacked snack of the day, times 3. Another soul mate is buttery shortbread cookies. It’s the dessert of the day - a treat after lunch. I decide how many I’m having, eat them (2), and then return for more. Both of these pleasures surely don’t appeal to everyone, but I’ll bet you have something that you love experiencing on the taste buds of your tongue, too!

So I get it… the hardship of resisting something that makes us happy, if only for a few minutes, that may have unwanted consequences.

Those of you who know me are saying, “What are you talking about, Anita!” And those of you who don’t, are either sympathizing with me or formulating your opinion or feedback. So this is what happened:

My dog has a sore on her belly. I take her to the vet and like humans, the first thing done is the weigh-in. Little Layla steps onto the scale and the vet announces, “21 pounds.” (I always wonder if they translate the kilograms correctly, but that’s beside the point.) I say, “She’s plump,” to which the vet responds in an austere tone, “She’s plump-ER. She was 20 pounds the last time she was here.”

 

What can I say? I was hoping Layla would have been less weight or at least the same, but I know the vet is right.  I let the comment go. (Maybe I shouldn’t refer to her as Little Layla.)

After shaving around the wound, cleaning and lancing it, the vet decides to staple the quarter sized sore. Tool in hand, assistant standing by to help, she squeezes Layla’s skin, but it won’t come together enough for the narrow-width tool to clamp over it.

I'm thinking that she's putting on the demonstration purposely, knowing that it won't fit, just so she can (and does) say, “Her belly is too big to stretch the skin any more than it already is.”

Gotcha, you horrible dog abuser! How dare you overfeed her and put her in this shape.

No she didn’t say that, but in my mind, that’s what I hear, so I whine my explanation:

“Ever since she had to take prednisone, her appetite has been so big. She seems hungry all the time. She bangs on the pantry door and it drives us crazy! Do you think the meds she takes now make her hungry?”

That garners a little sympathy from the vet:

“With her neurological issues,” she says as she gestures the cuckoo sign near Layla’s head, “she might be begging as a habit, or she’s confused. Or possibly, she has thyroid issues. She’s going to need blood work soon.”

Tired after sitting in the waiting room over a half hour in a place that causes me mental anguish, my thought is, “Whatever.” I’ve been here so many times over the last fourteen months… but that’s another blog post.

Anyway, I gather up my sweet little porker, pay the 200 plus bucks, and proceed home to begin her treatment of antibiotics, ear drops (oh yeah, she has ear infections), ear flush, and pain pills (that she doesn’t need.)

Did the body shaming work? For right now, yes. We’ve started the diet for the tenth time. I’m measuring her food, substituting green beans for snacks, and trying to limit my trips to the kitchen which is Layla’s signal to ask (paw my ankles) for food. Wish us luck!

Thoughts? regarding people, animals, or both

Fill in the hole with more squiggly hairs and it is a replica of what Layla ate during one of her prednisone induced hunger attacks about a year ago. My friend and I took our dogs on their poopy walk and parts of this, color included, exited Layla's rear. After our initial Ewwww, we came to the conclusion that worms are not lime green.

image found here