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Wonky, I Feel Wonky ...

The title of this post must be read with the tune of "I Feel Pretty" from West Side Story.

And feeling wonky is in no way similar to feeling pretty. As a matter of fact, I'm fairly certain they are as dissimilar as vanilla and chocolate or logic and 45. Actually, it's difficult to feel wonky and pretty at the same time. My children used to accuse me of making up words and I'm pretty sure wonky is one of those words.

According to Merriam-Webster wonky is an adjective of British origin (as a matter of fact, when I'm feeling particularly wonky as I do now, I am imagining John Oliver speaking the word, wonky) that means "shaky, unsteady, awry".

And that is exactly how I feel. It's a great descriptive term. I even used it with the doc at urgent care on Saturday, and I hope he knew what I meant and didn't think that I was just cracked (another great British slang term meaning loopy). It's a UTI and after a couple days on an antibiotic, I'm feeling a little better. A little less wonky but not quite blooming (you got it, another British term).

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It's not a popularity contest, but ...

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B

Peter Pan no more

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Cabin fever made me do it!

Like nearly ever person in West Michigan, I have a serious case of cabin fever.  I won't waste your time however, complaining about the two-hundred feet of snow that's fallen in the last two hours. I won't share about the twenty or thirty times I've had to shovel my walk today as gusts blew it right back in my face. And I certainly will not lament about the temperatures that hover around negative double digits making your nostrils freeze together within moments of stepping outside. To bore you with tales of how we have to shovel areas in our yard so that our large dog and can do his 'duty' because the snow is deeper than he is tall and dogs for whatever reason cannot poop in the same place twice, is not what I will share. You will not hear about how when I open the slider to let aforementioned dog outside, gusts of wind blow drifts of snow inside and require a shovel to once again close the door.  Nor will I share how some roads around here are drifted shut be