I have plenty of ideas for your money.

Boing Boing posted a fascinating article about very expensive bottled water "for rich morons" (HA!), so I followed the link to the original article, which states:

A few months ago, Madonna’s pal let it slip that the Material Girlfriend spends $10,000 each month for water blessed by Kabbalah rabbis.

And I didn't read much further because this was cause enough for an enraged entry.

$10,000 a month, Madge? SERIOUSLY? On bottled water? Blessed? By Kabbalah rabbis? This is what religion does to you, people: makes you waste your money on someone waving their hand over your drinking water for whatever reason. It sucks enough that hardly any of us can trust our tap water anymore and that probably in a matter of a decade, we'll have to purchase ALL the water we drink. Part of me loves the idea that people can waste money on fancy bottled water because of the possibility of it postponing the inevitable universal shift to bottles. Like their spending exorbitant amounts of money on bottled water will go into the "bottled water fund" that will stave off the greedy, poisonous bastards who want nothing to be free, even a human necessity like water. But, Madonna, come ON! You know I have loved you and your music and your awesomeness for many, many years, but you have nothing else to do with $10,000 a month? I have plenty of ideas.

Sigh... I know that insanely rich people have, probably more often than not, worked really hard for their fortune. This is definitely the case with Madonna. But at this point, is it so inconceivable to now use your money-making-money skills to save the rest of the world with what it seems to so desperately need: money?


P.S. I love that Forbes called her the Material Girlfriend. I mean, I'm pretty out of touch with what Madonna is calling herself these days, but I'm pretty sure it's just The Material Girl, guys.

Society's stranglehold takes another victim

I told myself I wouldn't do it. I knew, from four months of looking at my naked body in the mirror that the weeks and weeks of inactivity and Midwestern meat-eating were taking their toll on my metabolically-challenged (thanks to the nature of aging) temple. I didn't need to do it, but alas, in my new place of residence there lives in the bathroom... a scale. And I stepped on it. And I discovered that I am the heaviest I have ever been, having gained about 10 pounds after moving out here. Which means that I am just under 25 pounds heavier than my "happy weight."

I am of the belief that a person's weight is not indicative of their health, necessarily, unless of course we're talking super overweight. But if you live in your "healthy weight range," you can be on the high end of that range and still be really healthy because of bone-size or because muscle weighs more than fat, etc. But I am at the very heaviest of my healthy weight range and lemme tell you, I'm a medium-frame person and not very strong right now. So I did 25 sit-ups and 10 push-ups last night. Not a lot, but more than I usually do!

I have watched myself balloon and not fit into my favorite pants and not get to wear my tight slogan t-shirts I love. I haven't stuck with my yoga program or my goal of "total vitality" (except for the quitting-smoking-again thing, which is arguably the most important) and I have yet to go to a Tae Kwon Do class. Again, I will allow myself some slack for the "winter weight," but my self-esteem has taken a bit of a slapping about as a result of this new-found flabbiness and it's not only affecting my wardrobe choices, but my sex life as well. As in, I just don't feel sexy. It's a horrible feeling.

I know I still have the body that many women would love to have. I don't give a crap. Sure, I'm grateful for what I have, but I'm even more grateful for what I know I can be. I blow a lot of hot air about nutrition and health and I'm just not practicing what I preach. I can't wait for the weather to pick up so that I can go ride my bike again. And also to make some headway financially so that I can join the Y and do some water fitness classes or something.

But for now, I'll do my sit-ups and jumping jacks and anything else I feel like that will be getting me off my ass.