Fifty Shades Darker (and The Ice Cream Social)

I didn’t run out and buy the second book after I read Fifty Shades of Grey. But a friend had a copy of Fifty Shades Darker (Book II) and I spent part of Wednesday in a lounge chair. Poolside.

My afternoon plan? To flip over once in a while. A few cat naps. Some snacking. Maybe a dip in the pool now and again when I got hot.

I had the time and the book. So I began Darker…

But I stopped at the vanilla ice cream scene.

Or what I call The Ice Cream Social. It was ‘social’ in that there was interaction between Mr. Grey, Miss Steele and a tub of ice cream.

(In my family, we jokingly refer to such interactions as ‘social time’ or ‘socializing’)

At 41, I’m probably too old for The Ice Cream Social. Though I know it’s supposed to be steamy. And I know I lack focus, but I couldn’t stay with that scene. Could NOT get past who was cleaning up the mess.

Maybe The Ice Cream Social fantasy is kind of like the beach. Seems romantic, until you get sand in places sand wasn’t meant to be…

In my world, if somebody saunters into the bedroom with a tub of ice cream—they best have two spoons. Maybe even a couple of bowls.

And the flavor is NOT vanilla, unless there is a side of hot fudge sauce.

My (future) dreamboat should take note: mint chocolate chip, chocolate swirl, black raspberry, strawberry, whatever. Anything more fun than vanilla–Unless the vanilla has toppings…

And I think I would rather eat my bowl of ice cream out outside. On a deck or porch. Preferably before or after ‘social time.’ There’s no call to fling ice cream about the bedroom. Or let a perfectly good tub melt on the nightstand and/or run down the side of it. For ice cream to (potentially) drip into the carpet fibers. Making the carpet stink anytime the weather gets humid. For years to come.

I mean, the author never said WHAT Mr. Grey did with the tub of ice cream. I doubt he spared a moment to run it back to the freezer. And he surely didn’t hang onto it while  ‘socializing?’  Or tuck it under his arm like a football?

Mr. Grey, with his turmoil, trauma and difficulties isn’t the man of my dreams. 

He’s far too complicated to appeal to me. The drama would drain me. I’d be perpetually exhausted, my stomach tied in knots.

Yes. I need there to be chemistry. And that’s either there or it’s not. But there can be plenty of chemistry, without all the gut twisting agony.

My future dreamboat has a sense of humor, is kind to children (even teenagers), animals, family and friends. He accepts me as I am, as I would accept him as he is. Easy to laugh. Difficult to anger. A man who can roll with what life deals him (and us). And maybe see the humor in it? Or at least try to?

Maya Angelou is definitely onto something…

Anyways, this paragon wouldn’t mind eating meals at a new dining table every couple of months–or every couple of weeks. And he would enjoy (or at least tolerate without complaint) car rides and long road trips with The Red Dog’s head on the console.

Or in his face once in a while.

Alas, my future fella need not fly about in helicopters, or drive fancy cars as Mr. Grey does. I have no great desire to eat on rooftops. Or to attend flashy parties.

From the examples of normal, healthy relationships I’ve seen, when a relationship is ‘right’ it is simple. On some intrinsic level, it just works.

I’m just not understanding all the fuss surrounding Mr. Grey and Miss Steele. Or The Ice Cream Social. Or their relationship….

I am at a crossroads with Fifty Shades Darker.

Do I keep reading and hope it gets better? Or find something else to do with my time?

My (newest) Addiction…

I’m about to embarrass myself. Again.

Several months back, I stumbled upon Pinterest. Though I try (hard) to limit myself, I cannot resist wandering to this site several times a day.

What is Pinterest?

I’ve also heard Pinterest called “Fantasy Football for Women.”

Daughter makes fun of me for my addiction. But then Son, Daughter, Family and Friends make fun of me for nearly everything I do and say, anyway. Without me, they would have no entertainment.

Some tidbits from my ‘FUNNY’ category…

Dedicated to Darling Daughter…

Anybody who knows Daughter understands that it isn’t ONLY a problem for Daughter. It is a PROBLEM for everybody in the house when there is a spider ‘sighting’ and said spider disappears. (The lucky ones live elsewhere…) Son and I CANNOT LEAVE.

I have thought (hard) about buying letter stencils and fabric paint to create this. Not for anybody specific (everybody is welcome at my house). It just makes me laugh…





    HARD TRUTHS? Probably…

I scan Facebook most days. This blog posts to it automatically–and so I connect with many readers with the ‘good book.’

However, I cannot understand why people post some of the things they post…especially the negative thoughts. To me, it is cowardly. Why not speak face to face with those who anger you? Hurt your feelings? That way, both parties can share their feelings, maybe understand each other better and find a SOLUTION. Also, why put personal ‘business’ out there for public consumption?

Really, this is a good rule.

Though being impulsive is being human. And we are all guilty of saying and doing stupid things now and again. Just no way around it. And social media tools make it easier to do and say things we later regret!!

And this weeks favorite. Has me re-thinking the daily walks on the beach. Maybe I should go back to hiking in the woods???

Hmmmm….must think about this!!

Why do I enjoy Pinterest so much?

Because it makes me laugh. The more serious quotes make me think. I’ve found some fantastic recipes, creative ideas. Hairstyles. Clothing. Home Decor. Shiny Objects, or jewelry. I have a page where I pin my eBay listings, items for sale. I pin blogs and websites I want to go back and read. (‘Double Takes’ category)

The best part is that it gives me a place to organize photos, insights, quotes, inspiring words, pictures, furniture, crafts and more–Anything that I want to reference at a later date.

It’s where I go for a bit of inspiration, and often for a laugh.

If you haven’t checked it out, consider doing so. You’ll thank me. (Maybe)

The more people who are ‘addicted,’ the better I can feel about my latest habit…

Amy Lauria on Pinterest:

Special Note: I tried to properly link photos to credit the source websites. Hopefully I was successful. Do let me know if I need to correct a link/photo.

“The Number” on the bathroom scale …

Last week, I took Son to the doctor for a pulled muscle.

As I checked in with the receptionist, it occurred to me that I should probably get a strep throat test. I had felt like crap for several days. Horrible headache and sore throat. Just completely exhausted.

We marched to the back. Son. Medical Assistant. Me.

Son hopped on the scale. And I followed suite, after a quick glance down at my flip-flops. Take them off, or keep them on?

Heck with it, I thought. How much do flip-flops weight? I kept them on.

The digits bounced around before landing on “The Number”

And it was HIGH. I’m not a tiny person. I wasn’t exptecting a tiny person number. Still, “The Number”  was higher than I expected…

Even considering that I haven’t weighted myself since sometime last fall? Or was it winter? Not sure…

I shuffled to the exam room puzzled.

Son dropped into a chair, then off to sleep.

As he counted sugar plums, I looked down at my shorts. How could they fit? How could I weigh XXX and fit into my shorts? Then it hit me.

My purse. I must have hopped onto the scale with my purse slung over my shoulder.

My ‘suitcase’ purse. A large, black Coach bag.

Contents: My (over)stuffed wallet full of rewards cards, change, business cards and receipts and a few dollars. A make-up bag…mainly in there for its selection of shiny lip glosses. Checkbook. Brush. Motrin. Cell phone. 3 extra hair ties (at least). A hardcover 400 page library book. Full water bottle. 4 pens (at least) Car keys. A date book/planner. A notebook because I am always writing. And who knows what else?

It wasn’t even so much “The Number” that bothered me. After all, it’s only a number. Does not reflect who I am. Might have bothered me many years ago, but I’ve been over letting my life be ruled by numbers for many, many years. (otherwise balancing my checkbook might upset me…)

It was more that things didn’t add up. Didn’t make sense. The pieces of the puzzle weren’t fitting together.

In the end, I had a fever…AND strep throat. No wonder I felt like sh#%.

My weight?

I confirmed my ‘purse theory’ the next day, when I stepped on our bathroom scale and I weighed about 12 pounds less than “The Number” at the doctor’s office. (Of course, I weighed my purse, too.)

Mystery solved. And still, who gets on a scale fully clothed, shoes on, not noticing the heavy purse over their shoulder?

Trust me. I often wonder why I do the things I do….