Beware: Ugly Panties

Today I got out of the tub after shaving my legs*, reached into my underwear drawer in the dark, and pulled out the most hideous underwear I own.

They are a pair of pink briefs that I got for free from Victoria's Secret. In fact, the only reason I have them is because they were free and couldn't be returned.

These panties (we're going to call them that because that is what they are) are so heinous that they don't look particularly flattering even on the lovely Selita Ebanks. Luckily for her, she has someone to airbrush out the muffin top they undoubtedly give her. The elastic waistband on these panties is so tight that it would give Keira Knightley a muffin top. Yes, they are that bad.

What you can't see in the picture is that everything gets worse in the back. These panties have DIAPER BUTT.

You know that extra room left in babies' diapers to accommodate whatever might come out back there? The poop pocket? THESE PANTIES HAVE THAT.

Perhaps that is why the description doesn't have a back view.

Don't get me wrong. I have a fat ass. It's not a Serena Williams badonk-a-donk (as seen here), but it's fat. Yet I can't even fill these out. The waist digs in like a chastity belt, but the butt is too big. Whose waist and ass are these panties cut for, Jennifer Lopez?

Ladies, save your money. Don't buy these baggy-ass panties.

Rant over.


* There is an excellent reason for doing this--that I will divulge at a later date--but alas, it does not involve Jordan Knight or Donnie Wahlberg. Sorry.

Keyword Roundup, Volume 9

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What the future holds

Big news, people of the Internet. It's time for the big reveal. The announcement of the decade.

Well, ok, maybe it's not that big. But it's big to me.

For those of you who are new to this blog, a little background: Jason reenlisted in the U.S. Navy at the beginning of February after having been out for two years. He has been at Naval Station Great Lakes in Illinois waiting for his orders for the past month.

Well, they finally came through!

The place we'll be spending the next few years is... (drumroll, please):

Naval Air Station Lemoore in Lemoore, California!

Jason has to report there at the beginning of April. I don't know yet when I'll head out, but probably not until we have someplace to live. I'm hoping for base housing, because they are all absolutely gorgeous.

In other news, I finally got a much-needed haircut. Below is the style I was aiming for, and how it turned out on me. And yes, I got my hair done like a Real World cast member. Stop judging me. I have hair issues.



I like it! I am also sorely tempted to dye my hair darker for dramatic effect. I won't actually do it, of course, but I can't help but think that it would be a striking look.

It felt so good to have a reason to get out of the house yesterday. The weather has been sunny and gorgeous, the snow is melting, I took a spin through the car wash, and I even saw a bee. I was all, BEE! Hi, bee! I love you, first springtime bee! Stay out of my car, bee!

Have I ever mentioned how much I love going through the car wash? Because I love it. I like to pretend that the brushes are giant octopuses attacking my underwater vehicle. The car wash is one reason Jason and I get along so well: he washes his cars a lot, so I get to see my octopuses a lot. It is a win-win situation.

But I have to go. There is college basketball to be watched, and I like that even more than I like car wash octopuses.

He comes running when he hears the foods clink against the dish.

The other day I had to go buy cat food because I nearly ran out over the weekend. Jasper would have you believe that I starve him, but that just isn't true. I spent $112 on cans of mackerel and tuna, bringing our 2009 total amount spent on cat care to almost $2000. I bet I haven't spent that much on my own food and medical bills this year.

This stash had better last a while.

Because I am a lonely cat lady...

Eff My Life

Thanks to my sister, I have found a new way to waste time when I should be working amuse myself: FMyLife.com. The site is a collection of user-submitted stories only a few sentences long about why their lives are... effed. I love it.

I have my own "eff my life" story, a little gem from last night. I was cleaning out a container of stuff in the bathroom closet and I found my old retainer, which I have not worn with any regularity since at least 2005, when I met Jason and decided not to wear it anymore (because I had better things to do with my mouth at night). Not that I was supposed to be wearing it all this time, since I got my braces off in 1997, but my mother has always tried to scare me and my sister into continuing to wear our retainers. She'll bare her own somewhat crooked teeth at us and warn us we'll end up like her if we don't wear them (because she stopped wearing hers). It has been a fairly effective tactic over the years. My sister still wears hers from time to time.

I had braces from seventh grade to just before tenth grade. An eternity. Not only did I have braces, I had two different sets of braces. The first ones came off because we moved and got a new orthodontist who didn't use the kind of braces I had. Yes, apparently there are different kinds of braces. In between sets, I had an expander--a medieval torture device that expands your mouth by pushing your teeth outwards. I have a remarkably small mouth. Dentists have commented that judging by the tooth indentations on my tongue, it doesn't fit in my mouth properly (um, thanks?). And even post-expander they always end up using the child-sized trays and other accoutrements of dentistry. So... I am a dental freak.

The expander covered the entire top of my mouth and gave me a totally obnoxious speech impediment. Food was always getting stuck up in it. I had to stick a little key in it every night to click it one notch bigger. I was in constant pain. And did I mention that I had the expander the summer I went to smart kid camp? I could not have been any lower on the pre-teen totem pole. It was awful. By the end of the summer, I had a huge gap between my two front teeth. I browsed my old photo albums for proof, but couldn't find any pictures that showed just how bad my teeth looked. They were all either too dark to scan or I had my mouth clamped shut. This one from seventh grade (before I got the first braces put on) is the best I could find. I'm the one in the crown. Get a load of those snaggle-teeth.

The point of this story is that I put the bottom retainer in my mouth last night (the top one has long since broken). It hurt immediately. Instead of taking it out like any sane person would do, I decided I needed to wear it while I watched TV. I took a couple of expired generic painkillers ( I told you I was cleaning out the closet) and went back to the couch. I took it off to brush my teeth before going to bed. My mouth felt better right away without all of that pressure on my teeth. I took this as a sign that I needed to wear my retainer overnight, which I can do now since Jason is gone and I don't need to be, um, alluring (see also my unshaved legs). I downed another two expired painkillers (they're still good, right?) and got into bed, trying to figure out where to put my tongue with a hunk of plastic and metal taking up the lower portion of my mouth. I never did find a good place.

When I woke up this morning I felt like my lower jaw had been rearranged. I took one expired painkiller. I moseyed out to the kitchen to make some breakfast and absentmindedly stuck a crust of bread in my mouth before realizing that I couldn't chew.

Eff my life.

Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!

Today I worked, cleared ten inches of snow off of my car, and went to the grocery store. What did my husband do? He went to Chicago for pizza and a taping of the Jerry Springer show.

Oh, military life.

He said a group of 15 Navy guys were going. They were supposedly going to be sitting in the front row. Unfortunately, they didn't get to go in uniform. I'll be sure to post about it if he makes it on TV.

In related news, we had to give notice about renewing or terminating our lease on Saturday. Since Jason doesn't have orders to a permanent duty station yet, we weren't in a position to make a commitment like that. I told our property manager just that, and she offered to write up a six-month extention at the same rate we've been paying, with a military clause that allows us to give them only 30 days' notice before moving out (it's usually 60 days). Sounds good to me!

In unrelated news, I am dying for a haircut. I haven't had one yet this year and I'm feeling raggedy. Any suggestions? What is hot right now? And yes, it really is that bad. See? Help!

My plan for tonight is to sit on my ass watching the Bachelor finale and attempting to stay up to watch New Kids on the Block on Jimmy Kimmel. Excellent. I obviously aim high.

I'm craving rum. Classy.

Most of all, I'm craving this:


Tomorrow marks four weeks since he left. I miss him so much.

We don't need expanded veterans' health benefits, we need cat health benefits.

Jasper had another day at the vet today to see how he's doing on his new insulin. We're going to raise his dosage slightly, but the good news is that he does not have a pituitary tumor or growth hormone imbalance like we previously suspected. I was so happy to hear it that I handed over another $195 without a second thought. That brings Jasper's vet bills to $1500 this year alone. We have our fingers crossed that this kind of insulin works out so that we can start saving for his college tuition.

I'm kidding.

Moving on. I didn't catch all of last night's presidential address, but I did tune in just in time for this part:

"As we meet here tonight, our men and women in uniform stand watch abroad and more are readying to deploy. To each and every one of them, and to the families who bear the quiet burden of their absence, Americans are united in sending one message: We honor your service, we are inspired by your sacrifice and you have our unyielding support. To relieve the strain on our forces, my budget increases the number of our soldiers and Marines. And to keep our sacred trust with those who serve, we will raise their pay and give our veterans the expanded health care and benefits that they have earned."

I hope so, Mr. Obama. My family's future depends on it. That gorgeous man up there has sixteen more years to go before he's eligible to retire from the Navy (he'll only be 43 years old).

Did anyone else who watched it totally dig Hillary Clinton's hot pink jacket? I heart her.

SXY TXT MSG

I have a confession to make: I am not a virgin. I know, I know: you're in shock right now. YOU'LL GET OVER IT.

That said, I have needs. Needs that are so NOT getting met right now given that my need-meeter is IN ANOTHER TIME ZONE. If anyone else is a military spouse or has ever been in a long-distance relationship, I know you feel my, uh, pain.

The shop doesn't close down when the best customer goes out of town. Or, you know, the ONLY customer (what with monogamy and all that). The shopkeeper just has to keep the business running until that customer is in town again.

Needless to say, we've both been feeling that itch that only one's spouse can scratch (or else face expensive divorce lawyer fees).

On Valentine's Day, I decided to keep things interesting. I put on my pinkest, laciest, most uncomfortable bra (that I never actually get to wear because the lace itches and shows through everything) and had myself a little sexy time photo shoot (recreated here with Lola and Jasper).

Except that it wasn't sexy at all because I had to use my cell phone camera. Normally I would have used my regular camera, but I couldn't e-mail my pictures to their intended recipient because I didn't want to get him in trouble for looking at titties in the Navy computer lab. The only way I could convey my lacy chesticles to their ogler-in-chief was via tiny, grainy cell phone pictures. And have you ever tried to do a sexy pose while holding your arm out as far away from your body as you can (to get everything in the shot) while simultaneously trying to use it for a little lift (because only the fake ones look... like that) AND praying that you're not pressing the wrong button and tit-texting your father in law? Try it sometime. Trust me--NOT SEXY. AT ALL.

I did succeed in getting a decent picture, despite my winter albino skin tone. Oh wait, I look that way year-round, remember? So off my boobs went into Verizon-land, emerging on the other side to be greeted by a very happy husband. A very happy husband who sent me only a picture of his head in return. And what am I supposed to do with THAT, I ask you?

... It was a picture of his FACE, people--that thing on top of his neck. Not that other head. Get your brains out of the gutter. (For those of you still in the gutter, I know exactly what I would have done had he sent that other picture.)

So apparently my husband did not get the tit for tat dirty text message memo. And yes, I realize how oddly appropriate the phrase tit for tat is right there.

After he realized that the pictures will keep dropping into his phone if he reciprocates, I realized that there are very few sexy ways to take pictures of oneself given the aforementioned constraints. In fact, I'm quickly running out of acceptable, not-too-fat-looking pictures to send. Let's hope he gets orders soon so we can play this game in person. Otherwise I'll have to keep sending him the same booby pic over and over and over.

Keyword Roundup, Volume 8

These are the words and phrases that people have searched for to get to my blog, and the entries they found. All spelling and grammar errors have been left intact.

Special thanks to Cary of List of The Day for making me his "Friend of LOTD of the Day" and directing you fine people to my self-titled slice of the Interwebs.* (Don't worry, I'm no Miss Cleo. My Statcounter tells me that List of the Day is from whence you all came.) Now go forth and search for weird things. You might just make some little blogger's day by clicking through to his/her blog, you nasty perverts.

sorted mature tube - main page.

feetfair tube - Keyword Roundup, Volume 5.

Renée mature feet - Keyword Roundup, Volume 4.

Renée feet - main page. What is it with you people and tubes and feet?

SC Johnson or S.C. Johnson or Johnson Wax - Keyword Roundup, Volume 7.

chicken and rice soup from scratch and chicken and rice soup from scractch - Soup from scratch: "chicken" and rice.

www.office-matures.blogger.com - main page.

Glinda the Good Witch crown - Keyword Roundup, Volume 3.

vestito carnevale Heidi - main page.

mature.blogspot, mature blogspot, matureblogspot, Renée mature, and mature blogspot.com - twelve visitors from Egypt, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Norway, and Saudi Arabia read Keyword Roundup, Volume 4, Keyword Roundup, Volume 5, Keyword Roundup, Volume 6, and the main page.

Renée costumes - Old-school Halloween costume time.

rent pascal, water help to loss weight, vacuum cleaner blogspot, 100 things challenge - 100 posts, 100 things.

Thai food diarrhea and looks like diarrhea - Sometimes my cooking looks like baby diarrhea but I promise it is far more delicious.

golf and hearts - Golf and Hearts. Direct hit! Direct hit! I'm the second result for this phrase.

the next Dropkick Murphys concert in Scotland - Anniversary fun: Maine mini-moon and Dropkick Murphys concert.

is there dairy in McDonalds shakes - Vegan Shamrock Shakes. Yes, there is. Blech.

back to big boobs alert mainpage - Keyword Roundup, Volume 4. This is boob central, Istanbul.

desperate to pee - Keyword Roundup, Volume 7. The person in Serbia who googled this stuck around for two minutes and 33 seconds. Interesting.

my wedding bladder bursting pee - main page. I hope you got your Spanx off in time, Québec.

bigboops blogspot - main page. Boops, huh, Indonesia?

Heidi Renée and Ms Renée - main page. That's me!

morning is here sunshine - Good morning sunshine! Here is my breakfast.

how not to be a loney wife - Just another lonely wife post.

shamrock shakes vegan - Vegan Shamrock Shakes


* Brought to you by Al Gore.

I'm going to start calling him Andre the Giant.

My big kitty, he is expensive. In the past two weeks, I have spent $936.70 on Jasper's vet bills. This includes blood tests for a suspected growth hormone abnormality (it would explain his size--he's the Andre the Giant of cats), a day at the vet to start a new kind of insulin (which, miracle of miracles, seems to be working), the insulin itself (and new syringes to measure it properly, because the old ones wouldn't do), a full blood glucose curve (because I can't seem to do it myself), and a urine culture (I can't remember for the life of me what that was for).

I'm taking him back next week for another all-day glucose curve and to get the results of his blood tests.

I know. It's a lot of money. But I love this cat and I would rather spend money on him than on myself. I guess it runs in my family.

The good news is that I think we may be in luck this time. Prior to starting insulin therapy, his blood sugar was measuring in the 400s--dangerously high. On the first kind of insulin we tried, it hovered in the high 300s--still too high. Eight hours after his first injection of the new insulin, he was reading at 211--much better. I was so shocked I had to have the vet repeat herself. This could be our answer!

His food allergy wounds are healing nicely, too. The only thing that isn't nice is that our pet insurance company is refusing to cover anything and also denying coverage for future illnesses because he is diabetic. Of course, they never bothered to tell us this until now, even though he was officially diagnosed in November. So if my cat gets cancer, which is obviously not a side effect of diabetes, they won't cover treatment. Bullshit! I have been trying to call them to get an explanation of this idiocy from a real human being, but they apparently don't believe in customer service.

That frustration aside, he's worth every cent:

V-Day treats

Jason has been gone for almost two weeks. Even though I didn't have anyone but myself to ply with Valentine's Day treats, last night I made a veganized version of the heart cookies my mom always made when I was growing up.

I figure I have bags of flour and sugar that I have to use up before the big move, and what better way to do that than to bake it into something delicious?

The only problem was that for some reason I don't have a heart-shaped cookie cutter--so I had to use a star-shaped one. Oh well. They taste the same.*

I was in the mood for cooking yesterday, so I made myself a batch of black bean and corn tofu scramble for breakfast. Today I reheated a bowl of that, and capped it off with a vanilla latté... and cookies. Yuuuummm... Hey, at least I had some real breakfast before I started stuffing my face with cookies, right?

Martha Dixon Cut Out Cookies - Veganized
(Martha Dixon had one of the first cooking shows on WJIM Channel 6 TV in Lansing, Michigan--my family members use a lot of her recipes. She was a dietitian at the Homestead Hotel Resort on Lake Michigan and later served as food service supervisor at the Kellogg Center at Michigan State University. [source])

1 cup vegetable shortening (you can also use vegan margarine--we use a combination)
1 cup confectioner's sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
1 Tbsp. soy milk
2 1/2 cups flour (reserve some for rolling out dough)
1 tsp. almond extract (or just use 2 tsp. vanilla extract)
dash salt

Mix by hand, roll dough out on floured pastry cloth or mat and cut with cookie cutter. Place on greased cookie sheet or use a silicone baking mat. Bake in 325 degree oven for 14-18 minutes depending on thickness.

Vegan Frosting

1/2 cup vegan margarine
1/2 cup vegetable shortening
4 cups confectioner's sugar
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 Tbsp. vanilla soy milk (or plain--whatever you have)
red food coloring for pink frosting (or whatever color you like)

Using a hand mixer, cream the vegan margarine. Add the shortening and continue to mix. Add the remaining ingredients and mix until thoroughly combined. The frosting should be stiff. Spread onto cooled cookies with a knife.

* If you close your eyes. And thirteen orders of fries. Is that it here? Wine and beer!**
** Sorry. I couldn't help myself.

Keyword Roundup, Volume 7

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Back in the Navy, Day 6

When I woke up this morning, my head was in a fog and I could not kick my overwhelming sense of drowsiness. Two vanilla lattés seem to have done the trick. The only good thing about wasting the day away is that I can let it happen without feeling like I'm neglecting anyone. The cats sleep all afternoon anyway, and Jason's not here to notice if my only activity all day is trudging between the couch, bed, and kitchen.

Now that Jason is gone, I can do all sorts of things that I wouldn't do if he were here. For example:

• Not flush the toilet when it's just a #1 (to conserve water). I know I am not the only person who does this!


• Stay in my pajamas all day.


• Allow the time between showers to extend into the 2-3 day zone--it doesn't matter if I smell because it's not offending anyone. And honestly, I'm so congested right now that I can't tell if I smell, so I'm not letting it happen on purpose. I showered yesterday afternoon though, so I'm probably still good.


• Wear the same outfit I've been wearing all week when (and if) I get dressed.


• Play the Wii Fit in my underwear. Not that this has happened--yet. Right now staying upright is enough of a challenge.


• Eat combinations of foods that he wouldn't consider a meal. Last night I made a package of stuffing for dinner, and the leftovers of that are all I've eaten so far today. At some point I will run out of food and be forced to go buy some healthy, normal foods, but until then I am content to clean out the cupboards.


• Stay up late watching trashy TV and surfing Youtube.


• Let the dirty dishes pile up in the sink before I swap them with the clean ones in the dishwasher.


• Leave the clean laundry sitting in the baskets while the dirty clothes pile up on the floor.


• Let my hair go unbrushed all day.


• Give his belongings away on Freecycle (good thing he took the video games with him).

Oh, wait. I do those things when Jason's here, too. But not to the extent that I do them when he's gone.

He arrived at Great Lakes late Wednesday night and called me around 2 AM to let me know he was safe. I was still up, of course. He told me with glee that he passed the "now leaving Massachusetts" sign with birds flying high--exactly what I plan to do when I finally get out of here. I asked him if he felt a twinge of regret that he'll never live here again, and the answer was emphatically no. In fact, I think his exact words were "Oh HELL no."

Despite that, the past few days were rough for him. It must have been a huge shock to his senses to be so suddenly immersed back into the military life after two years of being a civilian. During one of our many phone calls he told me in a wistful tone of voice that he misses being home with me, just passing the time together--instead he's all alone in a cinderblock room. I have the easy side of this, weathering the time apart in our cushy apartment with three cats whose primary goal is to be cuddled at all times.

He's high-ranking enough to have his own barracks room (with a chair and a desk that are serving as video game central) and gets three free galley meals a day. Next week he'll start classes on things he has to requalify for, like shooting all sorts of weapons and putting out fires. He'll also be issued a new set of uniforms.

I think that his "what am I doing here" feeling will fade once he gets back into a uniform. It's probably hard to feel like you're doing something important when you have no choice but to wear military-issue sweatpants wherever you go--he can't wear civilian clothes outside of his room and the only "uniform" he has is the t-shirt and pants they gave him for PT. He feels like a tool showing up to the various offices to do paperwork dressed like a sloppy little boy. I guess looking the part goes a long way in feeling the part.

Once we're back about the business of making our lives together as a Navy family it will be like we were never apart and he never got out. Until then, we adjust, adjust, adjust.

here I go again on my own

Yesterday morning Jason got up at the crack of dawn to go to Boston for his swearing in. He is now officially back on active duty!

This afternoon he left to join his temporary personnel unit at Naval Station Great Lakes, an hour or so north of Chicago.

As is our fashion, we had a rough last night together. We are both sick, and haven't been sleeping well for days--Jason especially, because he didn't want to take any cold medicine for fear that it would interfere with the drug tests he'll have to take. We've been busy doing everything but getting him ready to go: Saturday we had to go to a family birthday party, Sunday we went to a family Super Bowl party.

By last night, we were both at the ends of our ropes--sick, tired, stressed out, and irritable. A silly, insignificant misunderstanding got blown out of proportion by both of us, we both said cruel words in anger, and we went to bed upset and hurt. Still unable to fall asleep, we kept talking. It went nowhere but back and forth and round and round. I even went out to the couch for a while so we wouldn't talk anymore. I went back to bed in the wee hours of the morning, threading my limbs around and between cats and trying not to wake Jason up.

I woke up this morning feeling the closest to hung over I probably ever have (I have never had a real hangover). My head was pounding and my face hurt. My eyes were fuzzy, my throat hurt, and I walked with a stagger. We avoided each other all morning, barely speaking and not making eye contact.

Jason hit a wall with his packing when he couldn't fit all of his bags and boxes in the car. He ended up repacking in a smaller suitcase and leaving some non-essential clothes behind. But by god, he took all of his video games, a little TV, and two game systems (he left the Wii for me so I can use the Wii Fit). He does have his priorities. Sometimes misplaced to me, but he has them.

He had taken everything down to the car and I was dreading the moment when he came back to say goodbye. When he came thumping back upstairs with his big suitcase in tow, mumbling and swearing to himself, I felt bad for him and softened up. After he got the smaller bag in the car, it was time for him to go. We hugged each other goodbye, but I didn't let myself fully into it. It's painful to say goodbye when a problem isn't resolved, and for me it's easier to hide behind my walls. And so just like that, he left.

I stood there in our living room for a moment, stunned, then hit the stairs (thank goodness I had pants on). He was standing in the stairwell waiting for me. He said he knew that it was me when he heard footsteps behind him, so he waited. I dissolved into his arms and we both apologized for being so stubborn. We butt heads hard, but we love each other even harder. We parted with tears in our eyes, but only love in our hearts.

I watched him drive away, then came upstairs and cried in bed with Jacob and Lola. It was a relief to finally have a catharsis in a positive way.

Tonight I am having french fries and cold medicine for dinner. Tomorrow I'll attempt to be normal.

Yes, the title is totally a Whitesnake shoutout.