Category Archives: Middle aged belly fat

Expanding my Horizons


This past weekend,  I attended a “Metaphysical Fair” with my girlfriend here in Colorado. Hubs sarcastically referred to it as a “Satanic Convention”, but I assured him that this not the case. I explained to him that attending this event was my way of expanding my horizons, trying something new.

Truthfully, my primary objective in attending this event was to actually do something I’ve always wanted to do: partake in a psychic reading.

There were a multitude of psychic/mediums/tarot card readers/clairvoyants sitting behind card tables along the periphery of the venue. I walked around, checking them out while asking myself in my head of course “how does one pick their first medium/psychic/tarot card reader/clairvoyant?” Was there some kind of strategy that I should be employing? It hadn’t occurred to me prior to this event to give any thought to this. So, I strolled around, sizing each one of them up.

There were the ones that looked the part: bejeweled women on the other side of 60 with colorful attire and wreaths atop their noggins. There were others that looked like they could be your next-door neighbors or your kid’s best friends mom or dad.

I ended up picking a friendly looking white dude around my age who had the word “Thunder” in his name. I approached this whole scenario with an open mind, sprinkled with just a pinch of skepticism. He almost immediately pegged me as a “planner”. That observation didn’t necessarily impress me, as a middle aged white woman donning her green sweater and emerald jewelry she rarely wears because she obviously planned her attire for St. Patrick’s Day. 

He then mentioned that after holding my hands in his for approximately 2 minutes and 8 seconds that he sensed I had lost someone who had a habit of massaging the back of my hair and neck. Nope, I told him. Could not think of anyone who habitually did this to me.  He told me that it may come to me later who it is. We shall see.

But then.

This gentle, friendly psychic/tarot card reader directed me to pick 5 cards from an array of large tarot cards, each depicting it’s own unique artwork. He then flipped them over. The first card revealed that I was a healer. He asked if I worked in the medical profession. I told him I didn’t per se, but for much of my professional career I have served clients that had physical and mental disabilities. So he wasn’t too far off.  Then he pointed to another card and said he could sense that I would have the aptitude for something called “Akashic records”. This is what struck me. Though I have no clue what this term means (he strongly urged me to look it up which I intend to do soon),  Hubs fraternity, the place that had it not existed I may in fact never have even met Hubs, was called “Acacia”. Say what?!

He also mentioned that he sensed I lost someone who struggled with back pain, possibly kidney trouble. As he did this, he placed his hand in the middle part of the left side of his back. I told him that it was me, as for years now I’ve struggled with pain in that exact spot. He told me he didn’t sense this was anything serious, but that I should lay off the junk food and drink more water. While I admit this directive may have been a result of him noticing  my spare tire, I feel it is very good advice that I shall heed.

One of the other cards that I randomly picked was “long term”. He explained that he felt I should stop feeling guilty and start thinking long term. Honestly, the statement about guilt struck me because as a people pleaser, guilt is a state in which I have lived for much of my life. He said I need to “get the ball rolling” and not get so caught up in how things are going to turn out. Kind of a general, solid piece of advice for just about anyone. However, I think this clearly applies to my blogging. It was a reminder to me to stop overthinking and/or trying to force the words out of my brain and onto my computer screen.

While I’m pleased with my first experience with a psychic/tarot card reader because he essentially told me what I needed to hear and expressed an understanding of who I am as a person, perhaps the best thing that came out of this experience was a book I picked up there.  I’ve been telling myself that I’ve been neglecting my “song brain” in my blog posts for a while now and I swear this book literally had my name on it.

It’s titled “Soul Song Playlist: How to rethink your favorite music and manifest your dreams”.

I’ll be delving into it as soon as I finish “The Bedwetter:  tales of Courage, Redemption and Pee”, by Sarah Silverman. Didn’t see that coming, did you?

About my belly weight

While I am not considered obese by any standards I am aware of, I’ve got a spare tire around my middle. It ain’t pretty. I could blame the two pregnancies I endured but that would not be completely accurate never mind fair. Lack of regular exercise and my love of craft beer and sweet treats are also to blame. I’ve grown to hate the expression “it is what it is”,  but in this case it’s true. While I attempt to shrink my spare tire by doing 50 sit ups each morning, getting a walk in every day, and eating healthy 88.8% of the time, I suspect that the chance  this belly fat will stay put is closer to 100%. The catch 22 is that I prefer wearing flowy, bohemian type tops for their style and comfort. However, to some who are not fashion minded, they may appear to be maternity tops.

It’s a really good thing that I no longer take myself too seriously, because it allows me to share the following stories about said belly fat.

So a few years back while working as a social worker, I was in the home of one of my clients for a visit. His (pudgy) wife was in attendance as well. After I seated myself, this wife comments that she “didn’t know I was expecting”. Awkward moment! I sat in shock and horror, and after sucking my gut in as best I could, I mumbled something to the effect of “no I am not expecting, I’m just fat”. Of course we all know that hindsight is 20/20, but…maybe I should have retorted in an innocent tone of voice “Expecting what?” At which point I presume she would have said “a baby” to which I could have replied “Why do you think I would be expecting a baby”, hence putting her on the spot so she could tell me I looked fat that day. I then could have pointed out that she in fact had a good 150 lbs on me. However, I was a professional and was/am a Christian so it’s likely best that I did not respond in this way.

Then there was the time that Hubs and I were walking on a lovely trail in the town we lived in in Wisconsin, when we walked past an older, scrawny looking man who was accompanied by what I can only assume was his wife and daughter (both overweight). After (I kid you not) we passed by them going the opposite direction, I hear this man’s voice saying “Excuse me ma’am? Are you expecting?” Again I maybe should have replied “Expecting what?” but I just turned around in shock and said “no” to which he responded “Well you look it”. I give myself credit for not immediately charging at him with raised fists, hollering something about his fat wife and daughter. Hubs thought it was hilarious. Fucker.

The most recent occasion in which I was suspected of being “with child” came more recently, during my weekly volunteer gig at a nearby food bank. I seated this middle aged hispanic woman and her husband in an office to begin the client intake process. As I sat down, the woman asked me “Is this your first?”. I was completely caught off guard yet again. For a second, as I am still a relatively new volunteer in this setting, I assumed she meant “first client”, but for clarification I responded “First client? No”, but when she said something about how she needed to be wearing her glasses at all times, it dawned on me that she thought I was pregnant. I agreed that she needed to be wearing her glasses and laughed it off. When I told Hubs this story later that day, he of course laughed his head off. Again-fucker. Then he came up with the line I should have responded with, which was “Oh, thank you for thinking I look like I’m still of child-bearing age”. Well, okay, that would have flipped things around right?

So the question I have for myself about my belly weight, is what am I going to do about it? I see several choices here: 1) Liposuction. Fact: out of my price range and I have a low pain tolerance. 2) Discontinue consumption of craft beer and chocolate. Fact: my life would be much less enjoyable if I did this.  Not happening. Life is too short to deprive myself of these pleasures. 3) Wear a corset under my clothes when in public. Fact: That would be so uncomfortable, not to mention itchy. And it probably would not be healthy for my innards. 4) Suck it up and suck it in as best as I can. Especially when in public. And memorize some great comebacks if (or shall I say when) a stranger asks me when the baby is due.

I think I’ll go with choice #4. Life is to be enjoyed, not lived for other’s approval. Especially for how you look.