R U There, God? It Really Is Margaret Here. Please Send Help!

I know the above picture is probably a Photo-shop project. If it were real, it wouldn't be the bikini that would bother me. If a 44 year old woman can rock a bikini that well, I am completely willing to give an "atta girl!" What bothers me is the insane objectification of women with guns. I have been subjected to numerous news clips of staged photo-ops with Sarah Palin at the shooting range, fondling a semi-automatic while falling back on that beauty pageant smile of hers, not a hair of that Peggy Hill bouffant out of place. Each time, I fly in to a blind rage. This is supposed to be an example of a strong woman? She looks like the new limited edition Guns & Ammo Barbie.

What is it about women and guns that makes men go nuts? Even more perplexing is why do women feed in to this insane behavior? I stayed awake long enough during Freshman Pysch 101 to hear about Freud's asinine theories of phallic symbols and penis envy. I think Freud just needed to get laid more often.

I served in the Army so I am no stranger to guns. Hell, I even own one. I take anytime where I am armed very seriously. I am not trying to be sexy or cute. I am not trying to get laid. Mine is owned for self-defense only. Not exactly sexy time.

Anytime a woman (or man, for that matter) picks up a gun, they need to respect it. Gun ownership is a double-edged sword. Yes, it is our American right (as any NRA enthusiast will tell you). But, as with any right, comes responsibility. Take it seriously. And quit catering to caveman fantasies.

The Sound Bite That Became My Tipping Point

I am that elusive creature that all the political pundits have dedicated endless hours of speculation to: the bitter, disenfranchised Clinton supporter. Not quite a PUMA (party unity my ass) but very close. I admire and respect Hillary Clinton. When Kerry lost in 2004, I comforted myself by saying that everything would all be alright when Hillary took over in 2008. In the early days before the primaries, I was positive that Clinton would hand that punk Obama a piece of his own ass.

Obama had never really inspired warm and fuzzy feelings in me. I believed that he made a pit stop in the Senate just to get directions to the White House. I thought he talked a good game but lacked the fortitude to back it up. Biden as his running mate didn't help. Although I had quit believing in the fairytale of a Obama-Clinton ticket, Biden struck me as a pompous, sneaky Beltway insider; a Democrat version of Cheney.

Despite being a life-long Democrat, I found myself taking a look at McCain. A very quick look since I am as left as you can get on most social issues. And even though American women have possessed the right to vote for less than a century, I kicked around the idea of just sitting this election out. When I was in the Army, I used to chastise fellow soldiers for not taking the time to vote. "What other job to you get to choose who the CEO of your company is? We get a say in who our Commander-In-Chief is going to be... how can you throw that away?" I would preach. Quite the hypocrite, aren't I?

I wasn't expecting much from the Democratic National Convention but yet I found myself getting energized. Not surprising that Hillary Clinton's speech was the one that convinced me that I couldn't sit on the sidelines for an election this important. She was on fire! Even 2 days later, these words keep ringing in my ears:

"We don't need four more years of the last eight years."

No we don't, Senator Clinton...no we don't.



I tip my hat to you, Hillary Clinton. You are a strong, admirable woman who continues to be an inspiration. Your gracious backing for Obama proved that you could check any ego at the door and put your country's needs first. I would have loved to seen you sworn in as the first female president but I won't let my disappointment cloud my judgment.

The Diet Diaries

I have been on almost every diet imaginable. Most are giant wastes of time. I hate the entire concept of dieting. This girl likes her groceries. Once upon a time, I could eat all that I wanted to without really worrying about buying bigger pants. Not anymore. It's like my metabolism saw my impending 30th birthday and decided to give me a nice "Fuck you!" as a present.

Slim Fast sucks because I truly believe that meals should be chewed, tasted and eaten... not drank. Atkins was great in its hey-day but the market for it dried up. When low-carb was all the rage, you could "cheat" safely. There were low-carb versions of pizza, pancakes, chocolate and chips. Now all you can find in the grocery store is the low-carb ice cream and the sorry excuse for bread. I tried to do low-carb again earlier this year but had to quit after I almost killed a co-worker at lunch for his french fries.

Faced with a trip to the Bahamas last year, I broke down and ordered the Nutri-System plan to shed some pounds pre-vacation. Yuck... I had better tasting food out of MREs during my army days. In addition to tasting like something that came out of an E-Z-Bake Oven, the stuff was expensive before you added all the supplemental groceries they don't tell you about in the commercials.

After cycling through diet after diet, I decided a few months ago that I would just try to eat healthy and watch my portions. No prescribed meal plans, no off-limits food, just healthy choices with portion control. Still working out a few times a week. Hell... I even started to incorporate some light jogging (Anyone who knows me well remembers that I swore I would never run again post-Army unless being chased). Great plan, right?

I got on the scale this weekend and saw a number I hadn't seen in a long, long time... and it wasn't a good one. This is serious now. No real plan of attack just yet but I haven't consumed over 1000 calories a day since Friday night. My blood is a toxicology nightmare with all the Hydroxycut I have popped. Sensible? Not at all. But desperate times call for desperate measures.