Rose's Cantina

I received an email from a gentleman today. He had read my blog about the fact I'm getting a breast reduction. He asked me some interesting questions, and I'm going to answer them here as frankly and honestly as possible. He felt that I was being a bit cavalier about what amounts to major surgery. He asked me if I had any doubts. The answer is: Boy did I! I have been talking about getting a breast reduction for 25 years. I never did anything about it because, well, back in the day, they were pretty spectacular. I didn't like them, but others did. They caused me grief but they also got me jobs and a lot of free drinks and dinners. The Prime Minister told me I had real talent even though I'm sure he never read any of the letters I wrote on his behalf. Pierre, you old hound dog, you. For someone with low self-esteem, that was pretty awesome. Mostly, I was afraid of all the urban myths. I heard that sometimes the girls stop being twins and one becomes...

I'm trying to get into the Christmas spirit, I really am. But shit is going down and it's not pretty. First, I got the flu, then I got pink eye. Pink eye! Sophie, get off my pillow! Next, I gained back the 10 pounds I struggled to lose over the past year. That's because of my bunged up knee. Doctor Ben, that wizard of modern medicine, shrugged when I asked him about it. Said it was arthritis. Nothing he could do...next. But I'm an Internet maven and I'm not about to take the word of a geriatric Belgian who even other doctors on RateMyMD are calling out, saying he needs retraining. So I hooked up with a chiropractor -- because for the first time in a decade I have extended health insurance -- and she soothed and stroked my knee and applied all the latest methods of chiropractic, including something that looks like a carpenter's framing square. What ever happened to old fashioned cracking? Then the kinesiologist who sits right beside her gave me e...

"What do you want for breakfast, an omelette, an Egg McMuffin or a smoothie?" This is a question I ask Scott every morning. These are the choices. There are no other choices. Lately, the question has been met with stone cold silence. By the time he answers it, it's 11 a.m. and I could eat pug stew. Scott is not a breakfast eater, but I have to be. I'm following Chris Powell's eating and exercise regime which means I have to eat breakfast within 30 minutes of getting up. I have to have it before I go to the gym or walk the dogs. Scott is like a camel. I have to give him credit, though. At first, he was giggy with the routine. He ate breakfast without complaint until he could not face another egg. "I can't eat breakfast when I get up," he moaned. "We're different." Wiser words were ever said. Men and women cannot lose weight together. It is an impossibility. They eat the blue plate special. We get cottage cheese and a...