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Jan 04
2010: Begin Again Posted by Leah

Holy.  Crap. 

Let’s just sit on that one for a while, shall we.  Holy.  Freaking.  Crap!

I can’t even…I don’t know where or how to start…I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…I’m sitting here writing this and it feels so…weird…it feels SO weird and I don’t know why and I don’t know where or how to start all I know, alls I’m saying is, it must start, it must begin again, it’s 2010 and it must begin again where did it go why did it go away oh yeah there was a boy and we were happy so happy really happy thinking we might be happy forever yeah now I remember there was a boy and all was right with the world so no more Hotness, right?  No more Hotness and no more Manspiration and no more Hot Man Diet, no more Hot Man Diet, no more Hot Man Diet?!?!?!?

September.  The last time we spoke.  September.  Holy freaking crap, how MUCH has changed since September!  The Yankees won the World Series!!!!!!!  My Hot Boys of Summer, the Hot Men of My LIFE, freaking beat down opponent after opponent after opponent to give me the most glorious night of my life that didn’t involve sex!!!  And I got to see some of the Hotness live!!!!  First Yankees playoff game ever witnessed by moi…who cares that they lost…they lost that fight but they won the war…ahhh…that such men exist…ahhh…

World Champion Yankees

Also - I got a puppy!!!  That’s right, there’s a Hot Dog in our midst, and he is a cutie pie.  His name is Barkley (ha!), he’s a terrier mix, he’s scruffy and feisty and scrappy as hell, and I love him to death, though my life is now little more than one extended dog walk with brief interludes for work and sleep and games of fetch.  He’s a helluva responsibility, scary and overwhelming but necessary as I enter this 36th year of my life.  Time to open the world up to responsibility.  Time to answer to someone other than myself.  Time to take my currently gassy charge for a walk.  Barkley!

One last, sad note - I think the RLHM (Real Life Hot Man) and I are parting ways.  Nothing’s been officially stated as such, but if it looks like a spade and smells like a spade…Aw kids, it’s been a rough week.  If my sass seems compromised, that is why.  I’m sad and mad and thrown.  All kinds of messed up over this one.  Again, nothing has been officially stated as such, but…

So.  Here we are.  All caught up and whatnot.  Now what do we do?

Oh, I’ll tell you what we do.  We begin again.  We meet here every Monday (old school style) and we begin again.  We work.  We focus.  We weigh in (can’t do it today, give me one more week please!)  We laugh.  We cry.  We remember why we where here in the first place - the Hotness, oh, the Hotness!  We gotta get the Hotness back!  Manspiration - can you heed our call?  Can you help this sista out?  Can you bring us home with your beacon call of droolingly Mantastic Mancandy?  The Manjoyment is gone!  Help us find it again!!  God on high, hear our prayer - bring them home!  Bring them home!  Bring!  Them!  Home!!!!!

Aw kids, damn if I didn’t miss you guys something awful.  Give me your hand.  Hold mine tight.  Let us go then, you and I…the Hotness awaits…

Jan 11
The Break-Up Posted by Leah

Week…Whatever.  Week Whatever:  down 35.5 pounds total  (Hold on for a sec whilst I take a VERY deep breath…umm hmm…okay…you may note that this weigh-in puts me at 12 pounds heavier than I was when last I took stock of such things in September.  That stings.  You may also note - or am I the only one who notes such things? - that this means I’ve gained almost half of my weight loss back.  That bites.  Let’s just get rid of it, shall we?  Let’s get rid of things that sting and bite.  Word!)

Hola kiddies!  Welcome back.  Damn if it isn’t Monday already. 

So…it’s official.  Her Hotness is single.  Yes, it is indeed official.  Happened Tuesday night.  And it sucked.  It sucked and blew all over the place, but you know what - it didn’t end me.  I’m cereal.  I thought it might be the end of me, but it totally wasn’t.  You could even make the case that it was the (re)beginning of me.  Kids, the RLHM (Real Life Hot Man) and I had the kind of break-up talk that one hopes to never have, all “you did this” and “I felt this” and “you hurt me this way” and blah blah blah and I walked away…no…crawled, crawled is a better word…no…stumbled, stumbled is the PERFECT word…I stumbled away from it feeling like a foolish, selfish failure, like the worst kind of person that anyone could ever know let alone date, and I lost it.  I mean I lost it.  Gone.  Me gone.  Over him.  Him who couldn’t see me for me but could only see the ”me” that wasn’t good enough or kind enough or giving enough or whatever enough for him.  Didn’t see me for the me that is the person you guys know, the crazy party gal who laughs hard and plays hard and pines hard for the things in life yet to be for me…he never saw that.  Never.  But that didn’t matter.  Not Tuesday night.  Not this past Tuesday night that found me, the only me there is, crumpled in a heap on her kitchen floor feeling not good enough or kind enough or giving enough or whatever enough for anybody ever!  

Kids, may I make a confession?  This was my first.  No, not THAT first!  (Come on, I’m Her Hotness for chrissakes!!!)  This was my first real, adult…something.  My first real, adult relationship, the first time I thought this might be IT, the it that leads to marriage and kids and Roth IRA’s and all that grown-up crap that seems so elusive most of the time.  So trust me when I say that I had no idea how this break-up would pan out, emotionally speaking.  I had no idea just how much of a mess I’d be, I had no idea how long I’d be a mess, etc.  You get the point.  You’re in your mid-thirties and you have a template for most of your life, you know how you’ll react to most situations.  It is the rare moment that you are faced with some entirely new shit to deal with.  And so it was that I found myself Tuesday evening with such a rare moment. 

And how did I do, you may ask.  Well, I lost it.  I already told you.  I flat out, full tilt lost it.  But not for long.  Not for long, indeed!  I immediately fell into the comforting, outstretched arms of my friends and spent a classic post-break-up night (i.e. lots of wine and ice cream) that served as a virtual tourniquet for the swelling tide of emotion threatening to bring me down, down, down.  That I mean this both literally and figuratively is a testament to a) how awesome my friends are and b) how absolutely lucky I am to have them.  Thus did Wednesday morning find me feeling…curiously free, though slightly worse for the wear.  By the end of the day I found myself telling peeps that I felt like myself again, the me you all know and love.  And by the weekend I was back in full Leah mode, all activity and plans and fun and whatnot.  The cloud that hovered so precariously over my new year moved elsewhere.  I loved and lost and learned a hell of a lot along the way, and I am pleased to believe that I am the better for it.  I may not be ready to date anyone just yet, but fret not.  Her Hotness is coming back.  Just give her a little time.  She’s on her way back!!

So if you’re wondering why this week lacks your necessary Hot Manspiration, well…I’m just not feeling it…yet.  I’m still rubbing my eyes at the breaking of this new dawn.  I don’t want to slap some piece of hot ass up here because I have to…Hot Manspiration is ALL about desire, not duty!  Let me get my sea legs back, so to speak, and the Manspiration will flow forth like Hot Manna from heaven.  Time.  It’s all I ask of you guys.   Time and a buttload of support.  Can you give me your buttload?  Please!

Ha!  See ya’ll next week. 

P.S.  The Hot Dog says hi.  He’s on my lap, and he can’t wait to be the star of next week’s entry.

Jan 19
Lady and the Tramp Posted by Leah

Weekly Hot-o-Meter Reading: down 2.5 pounds (-38 pounds total!)

Down 2.5.  Word.  Feels good.  Feels right.  Makes me wanna keep on truckin’.  Makes me wanna put down this glass o’ chardonnay.  Kind of.  Okay, I’m totally not putting it down.  It’s good chardonnay.  Bite me.

Hola kiddies!  How was your MLK Day?!  Did you let freedon ring?  Were you free at last, free at last?  If so, I’m glad for you.  And insanely jealous, because I had to work.  Ugh!  And it was RAINING!  Raining like a mo fo.  And while this might not sound like much to most of you, we here in sunny So Cal do NOT deal well with the rain.  Not rain like a mo fo.  My pup refuses to wet his ridiculously cute paws so this week, while still quite young, has already proven to be quite looooong.  Hence the chardonnay.  It’s good chardonnay.  Bite me.

Speaking of my ridiculously cute pup…he’s soo cute, ohmigod I just love him to bits, BITS I tell you!!!  Kids, Her Hotness is changed.  I am no longer merely a Hot Woman.  I am also a Hot Mother.  I’m a MILF.  Yes, I’ve proudly entered the land of MILF-dom, though most MILF’s wouldn’t be caught dead wandering through the streets of Long Beach at ungodly hours of the morning in all kinds of Hot Messiness.  Such is my life now.  So changed…the raucous party girl of yore must now plan her life in 6 hour increments, lest the Hot Dog be too housebound for his own good.  Life now is little more than one long walk with brief respites for sleep and work.  My bed, once home to scandalous comings and goings, now finds me wrapped oh so carefully around said pooch, lest I disturb his slumber.  Responsibility, that loathsome word, has wormed its way into this wild child and bitch-slapped me into submission.  I cannot help it.  I cannot resist.  I love him!  I love my Hot Dog!  He is scruffy scraptacularness, so effing cute, so cute I can’t help myself sometimes.  We were walking down the street a while back and some yummy piece of Mancandy stopped mid-run to yell “That is one happy dog!” and he was right.  He is!  And he rocks!

And for as much as he needs me and loves me unconditionally, he also has much to teach.  Watching him make his way through the world, head held high, eyes alert, body lean and ready, is something of a revelation.  That we should all be so brave, so fearless, so excited and joyful…that we should burst through the door every morning, ready for anything and everything the world has to offer (save but rain)…that we should encouter everyone with such curiosity, such unbridled glee…that our hearts should be so open, so forgiving, so innocent…what a world that would be…

And that I should want something so badly that I was willing to put my entire being into the fight, that my drive was strong enough to ignore the people holding me back, the voices telling me to stop…what a world that would be…


Jan 26

Weekly Hot-o-Meter Reading: oh hell no, hell NO am I weighing in this week, I mean it’s already Tuesday and I’m already a day late and probably also a dollar short and most definitely, most DEFINITELY a pound or two up and you wanna know why, you wanna know why, why I’ll tell you why, I went on vacation, that’s why, I went on a freaking vacation to the freaking mountains, to freaking Big Bear this past weekend, THIS past weekend of all weekends this past weekend, perfectly timed, PERFECTLY, because this past weekend saw the tail end of Big Bear receiving, like, the most snow EVER, okay not EVER but the most snow it’s had in 40 years or something like that and while it is the mountain, the freaking mountain, it’s still freaking Southern California and Southern California does not, DOES NOT, know how to handle the snow, even the rain does us in, the rain, oh the rain last week was just miserable, my dog, my pup, he hates the rain and we fought, oh but we fought like cats and dogs, well because he IS a dog, and he stinks, he’s all smelly puppy smelly from a week’s worth of coming in and out of the rain and he’s sitting beside me right now, right now when I’m a day late and probably also a dollar short, and he’s camped in front of my heater, his canine funk wafting through my Hot Mess of a Hot House, this house that is NOT of mirth, oh no this house is not of mirth, not right now…

…’cause I’m SILENT, I’ve lost my voice!, kids I am bereft of sound, my throat is a burning ring of fire, my body aches and my nose is all kinds of stopped up, thank goodness otherwise I would smell what I am sure is my own funk co-mingling with the very funky puppy smells wafting through this Hot Mess of a Hot House, just as I am sure that impending health will bring with it a belated embarassment over my appearance in the world lo these past 48 hours while out walking said funky puppy…ugh…

…and I’m sick because of the freaking mountains, because of freaking Big Bear and it’s big piles of snow and that trip, that long, long, looooong day’s journey into night, that freaking odyssey up that freaking mountain that had us in the car for 15 HOURS (!!), that plopped us into a cabin that had NO ELECTRICITY (!!!!!), that trip that left me sick and getting sicker, what the hell Tylenol work, dammit, WORK (!!!!!!!!!!!!), that trip I am SURE left me with some extra The Hurt Lockerpoundage because when you are in your hell and you realize it has indeed frozen over, you need/want/crave one thing and one thing only - ALCOHOL (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), say it with me A-L-C-O-H-O-L, you need it, want it, crave it because it makes you forget, forget the time in the car, forget the icy numbness haunting your extremities, forget that at that very moment Los Angeles proper is having one of the most beautiful weekends it’s had all year, you forget all of that and you hang with your friends and you walk in the snow and you are able, you are finally able to see it and take it all in because it is breathtaking, it is beautiful…

…and you leave the cold with a cold and you deal, you just deal, and you stay home and bundle up and while you pray for the Tylenol to work, dammit, WORK (!!), you cuddle with your funky puppy and you eat the warm soup that your warm friends brought you and you watch The Hot Locker, I mean you watch the Hot Men in The Hurt Locker and you take it all in because they are breathtaking, they are beautiful…

…and you wonder what in the hell it was that made you decide to go back, BACK, to Big Bear this coming weekend…

Feb 01
A Manspiration Crisis! Posted by Leah

Good morning, kiddies.  And how are all my lovelies today?  Aaah Monday…she’s here again, ain’t she?  She’s all the time coming and going and going and coming…and aleays too soon!  Too soon!  Indeed, I could have used another Sunday.  As it was, my weekend was still quite restful and fun.  The swine flu pandemic that swept through the outer reaches of my one bedroom apartment finally gave way to moderate health.  Though still a bit clogged in the sniffer, I can speak (yay!), smell (yay!) and breathe (yay!) like a normal person.  And if I never see another episode of House Hunters it’ll be too soon.  Too soon! 

Kids, there is a MAJOR CRISIS in Hot Man Diet land!!  A serious crisis of epic proportions!  It needs must be addressed!  It needs must be fixed!  We must Manhandle it, and soon!  (Too soon!)

HER HOTNESS IS UN-MANSPIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know!  I don’t know what to tell you.  I don’t know what to say.  I used to sniff out Hotness in my freaking sleep.  I’d walk into a room, any room, and my inner Hot-dar would instantaneously separate the wheat from the chaff!  Within mere seconds I’d be able to assess the assets and identify potential future Manjoyment.  This was my calling.  This was my skill.  This was what I could offer the world.  But now…now I am a mere shell of my former self.  I am bruised.  I am wounded.  My eye sees naught but boys.  No Hot Men.  Just boys.  It is not that I am bitter, please understand.  I do not hold all boys accountable for the boy who has most recently undone me.  But my appetite for Mancandy, my zest for Manspiration, it is…gone.  Where the hell did it go?!?!  What the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?!?!?

Who am I, if not Her Hotness?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

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