Another one bites the dust.

Yep.

And another one gone, another one gone…another one bites the dust…

Blogs, that it.  Another one of my blog ideas has rapidly capsized, flipping me off the boat and drowning in the sea of Lack Of Follow-Thru.

But this time, it’s not my fault! Really!

Well, ok, maybe it is. But at least it wasn’t intentional. See, I ended up abandoning this blog and the whole idiotic idea of spending a year of my existence undergoing a mastadonic Oprahawl of the beaten down jalopy also known as my “life” when my “friend” (notice the repeated use of  “quotation marks” to highlight a “loose reference”)Rosie decided to basically throw me out on my ass from her home for no apparent reason. I mean, seriously, she just basically came home one day and tweaked the fuck out and asked me to leave, saying I hadn’t done “anything to improve my situation” and had “misunderstood” what she meant by “Sure, you can stay here as long as you need to get things together, and don’t stress so hard about looking for a job, the important thing is for you to stay sober.”

Apparently, that really means is, “bitch better find a job or fork over some cash in 7-10 working days. ” Actually, I think I was there for about three weeks. And I could see her having a legitimate beef about wanting me to get my lazy ass up and moving, if indeed, my lazy ass had been planted down somewhere. I wish it would have been planted on her couch or the really very comfortable air mattress that I did grow so much to love…it would have been lots of fun just camped out in front of the superhuge plasma screen tv and fake furnace whiling my days away eating bonbons and petting her twitchy dogs who fart too much. But that wasn’t what I was doing!

Instead, I spent most of my days…working on writing descriptions for her stupid cards, setting up her blog, posting her crap up on Etsy, and developing a marketing plan for her…no, wait, I’m sorry, “OUR” (again, love those “looose references”!) fledlgling little greeting card company. The same f’ing greeting card company she had been yammering away at me for weeks to help her launch, the same f’ing card shindig she had guilted me about not getting on the ball to do it sooner.

So I am sorry, Miss Rosie Marie Jul-la-li-la-loo-loo, if I wasn’t able to get a job licking fricking split because I was working my ass off doing the work you couldn’t do for yourself…for free! FUCK ME RUNNING ALREADY!

What kind of horrible soul-succubus-sucking bitch am I???

Well. Apparantly I am the type that sort of inadvertently infects her host’s computer with the equivalent of cyber-neuro-syphilis, causing a nasty set of malfunctions and breakdowns ultimately resulting in the poor machine going absolutely bat-shit crazy and blowing the fuck up.

And apparantly…when someone is giving you a “free” place to stay, effectively anesthetizing their home computer system is not such a cool thing to do…even if it was a shitty Dell. Yeah. She didn’t buy the “Hey, I thought I was doing you a favor by putting her down” spin. Damn.

So I guess the equation goes something like this:

[Work for free to start friend's lame gift card business you really didn't believe in anyways but blew smoke up her ass to make her feel good] + {jacking up her computer (although accidental, and yes, a Dell)}= GET THE FUCK OUT NOW! YOU LOUSY STUPID SONS A BITCH.

Ok. So, well, I guess instantaneous homelessness and the flaming out of a friendship and what at least appeared on the surface to be a really cool new business venture is…well, not very “Oprahtic”. Somehow, I just do not see the divine Miss O giving any of that hullaballoo her “Living Your Best Life NOW!” stamp of approval. Now, kicked to curb yet again, I am forced to regroup and come up with a new strategy.

And just what that newfound fabulous strategy be? Well, the answer is clearcut and simple to me.

It’s time to get drunk!

Well, in true LeDonna Fashion, I have become distracted and backlogged…which I suppose are not very Oprahatic qualities. So I have to apologize, both to you, the person that is not reading this right now (lololol again…I love how I write to an imaginary audience that has yet to exist), and to myself, for so easily getting off track. But I suppose again my lack of planning has gotten the best of me, so it’s been difficult to manage my time between writing this blog and…well, just doing the the things I need to do on a daily basis to get by, wheter they are very Oprahatic or not.

Actually, I guess I have somewhat been living according to my new code in the sense that I have been putting a good deal of time and energy into partnering with my friend Rosie and getting her (well, ours, I guess, it just feels weird to say it) little greeting card company off the ground. I wrote some descriptions for her line of puppy-lover cards, set up the company blog, and uploaded the cards onto Etsy. This in itself is an entirely new venture for me, and I am happy to finally be following through, if even on a small scale, on utilizing some of my marketing and business know -how that I’ve picked up over the years for an independent entrepreneurial effort.

It’s also nice to be helpful to Rosie, who is the primary designer and visionary of this whole thing. In actuality, this is really her baby, I’m just trying to do what I can to take her product and hopefully get it sold. So, I’m sort of fashioning myself into this little account executive for her, and it’s a lot of fun. Hopefully I can get to do a little bit of the designing as well, I just don’t know  how that would fly, as I already know Rosie thinks the cards I make are too”busy”.  I think my busy cards are cool! They’re hip. They’re edgey. Artsy. And busy.

So that’s one of the main things I’ve been working on, which I suppose is good, it’s a step in the right direction.  I’ve also been doing a lot of studying up on burlesque again as I have identified this sort of campy cabaret theatre as a humongous passion of mine.  I just get so dazzled by the costumes, hair and make-up, all of the glamour and the theatricality of it all…and , let’s face it, I must have been a stripper in a past life because for whatever reason I feel this deep-seated need to take my clothes off and shake my ass in front of people. It is necessary in order for me to be complete.

Girl in need of a new life and some sanity!

Girl who needs to give up so much meat and cheese. Sigh. See, I told you I would feel bloated after my impromptu cheesy cold-cut binge. I do, and I think I have heartburn now too. Awesome. Now I feel a lot like this guy here:

Good old Henry. Absolutely one of my favorite fat-asses of all time.

Alright, so, this is me:

Well, it’s pretty much me, except these are slightly sexified homemade headshots with virtual makeover hair. Actually, my hair is pretty similar to what you see, except it’s not quite so full, lustrous, shiny, bouncy or healthy. The texture of my actual hair more closely resembles something closer to Danny Bonaduce’s, or one of those copper Chore Boy kitchen scouring pads.

Ok, here are some other more “real” pics of me:

I guess I’ll stop now, I didn’t mean for these to stack up as such and I can’t figure out how the hell to fix it to where they line up n a row. See, another reason I need a life makeover- my brain is not even sharp enough to operate simple blog editing software! 

Ok, one more that is fairly recent:WhatI like about this one is that if you look closely, you will see that I have my index finger kind of tucked behind my jawline. No, it’s not because I had some crazy itch that had to be scratched- I did that to hold up my jowls so I’d have less creasing by my lips.  God, getting older really sucks. That’s what part of my “Best Life Now” plan includes a heaping helping of Juvaderm in those awful “parentheses”, and I don’t care if I have to panhandle or prostitute myself to get it.

So you may be saying to yourself, “Hey, she’s not all that bad looking. In fact, she’s pretty cute. What the hell is all this bitching about? God I hate these stupid high maintenance wenches who just whine, whine whine!” I know, I’m not that hard on the eyes. In fact, I get compliments every day by at least one person (usually homeless, but hey) telling me I am beautiful, blah blah blah. That’s not my main issue. I mean sure, I do wish to take 10 years off my face and take radical charge against the impending mudslide downwards my skin make make any day now. I make look alright for my age now, but it’s only a matter of time before I wake up to look in the mirror and see that overnight I have morphed into Abe Vigoda, or Mr. Magoo.

What you don’t see, however, is the mess that’s on the inside. If you were to peel off my skin and look inside, you’d find Angelina Jolie from “Girl, Interrupted” sitting in Courtney Love’s lap getting her hairbrushed while Amy Winehouse belts out “I’m No Good”. And if you look closely, tucked in that dark recess in the back of my brain, you’ll notice that’s Sylvia Plath roasting her head as if it were Thanksgiving turkey. Oh, and that thing that’s wadded up in the fetal position lodged in my ass? That would be Anna Nicole Smith.

And you probably also detected a delicious stench gently wafting-this is because I actually do not pump blood through my veins,as long ago it was all converted to pure raw sewage, seeing that my body has been pretty much nothing but a toxic waste dump from the time I was a little girl. In fact, I would bet that if there had been an ultrasound picture of my tiny fetid fetus, you would have seen a little green grouch in a mini trash can. Yep. I would put cash money on it.

And also, notice these pictures are all headshots. Just wait until you see my ass. Here’s a hint: Black men LOVE me. 

My body is just a little too bootilicious for ya, babe.  Actually, my ass isn’t even that big. I’m not super-huge, I’m pretty average, and I actually have nice curves. At this point in the game I’m actually afraid to lose too much weight because I don’t want to lose my prize possession(s)…referring to “my girls”, to coin a phrase Scarlett Johansson coined referring to her breasts. See, the one thing I have going for me…I have to say is, that I have nice tits. This is of particular importance, because I have not always had such heavenly, amazing cleavage.

Most of my life I was actually pretty flat-chested, even during times of weight gain. Around my mid-30′s, something just happened, and it was like, voila! I had flowered all over again. It was kind of like a second puberty. I’m not sure if has anything to do with the “sexual peak” thing, but I am not asking too many questions. They are here, they are natural, they are mine. And I am terrified that one day, I’ll wake up and they’ll be gone…or flopping againt my ribcage like two deflated squeak toys.

So again, my goals for a makeover surely are not just centered around all that is physical. I do want to lose weight, but I am more concerned with learning truly healthy eating as a lifestyle, and getting my body really fit, strong and flexible. Right now I’m stiff and still limping around due to falling and hurting my hip, which resulted in a hairline fracture. So I would like to be in a place where I don’t gimp around like Quasimodo, or wake up in the morning with the gait of Herman Muenster. Wait, I spelled that wrong, it’s not like the cheese! LOLOLOL!

OK, so not that you have a visual, we will move on to delving a little deeper into my background story….

I do feel pretty fabulous in general however, probably from the overall excitement of getting this project started. You see, normally I don’t get very excited, unless there is an alcoholic beverage  or a man  involved.  Furthermore, I really don’t start very many projects…and finish ever fewer. HA! So for me, this is a pretty big deal indeed.

However, I just realized I did something that is completely UN-Oprahtic. I just went to the fridge and pulled out a sizable hunk of italian dry salami slices as well as some cojack cheese to nibble on. Did I need any of this? Like I need a hole in my head. I’m going to wish a had a hole in the side of my gut to drain all the water I’m no doubt going to retain from this lovely snack after I balloon out over the sides of my jeans like a pufferfish choking to death in denim. But damn, I can’t help it! Pork products RULE! And don’t even get me started about cheese.

But see, this sad display of gluttony perfectly illustrates why I need a mighty lifestyle intervention. Quite simply put: I have absolutely no self control. Well, I do, but it comes and goes in spurts, and I never seem to maintain any consistency when it comes to my self discipline. So, that’s going to one of the main things I’m focusing on. Maybe I’ll take some martial arts classes, or join the military.

Alright, I went off on a bit of a tangent there, so I think I will wrap up this little post and make the next one all about me. Whoopee! A page about me all to myself. It’s a narcissist’s dream!

OK. It’s not fancy, but it’s official.  As of today, September 27, 2009 @ 9PM, I am now living “Oprahtically”.

Meaning?

My Best Life Now!!

1 Day at a time, one new tip, trick, or “a-ha” at a time. This blog is designed to monitor the progress I make on a year long journey of self-improvement and discovery I am embarking on, in an attempt to radically turn my life around and achieve some very important but long-put-off goals. I will be utilizing on a daily basis the wisdom, wit, and inspiration of Oprah Winfrey and her many partners/contributors, from every form of media- her show, magazine, website, etc., applying little nuggets of advice to a wide array of problem areas I intend to work on and improve. Everything from my money/career (or lack thereof), my health and physical fitness (again, or lack thereof), beauty and weight concerns (trust me, there are a lot!), mental health, addiction issues, spiritual questions, creative dreams and visions I desperately wish to achieve, family connections, friends (again, or lack thereof!) cooking, organization (GOOD GOD! Do I need help with that one! Julie Morgenstern….pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaassssssse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *can you sense that I’m dying here*) oh, and yeah, I almost forgot!

LOVE!  (Sh!t! How could I possibly forget that???????) I need some massive schooling in the relationship department. And, if Oprah can set me up with Demetri Martin, well…that’d be pretty kick-ass too.

In a nutshell, I’m a 39- year-old trainwreck of a woman who over the past 5-years has pulled a complete Hurricane Katrina on her life.  In February 2005…I think it was right before Valentine’s Day in fact…I left a 17- year marriage after being physically abused just one too many times. An argument with my husband (which took place in the shower of all places) spun so violently out of control it shook me to my very core and left me so terrified I felt that this time…had to be the last time, I had to get away once and for all. So, in a blaze of fear and fury, I fled. (After putting some clothes on, of course)

There were, however, just a few problems with me running out the door like Jumpin’ Jack Flash. I’ll get into those more in depth in the next few posts. My story is so mind-numbingly convoluted that it is much easier to digest when consumed in small chunks, much like a tough cut of meat. I’ll try to tenderize it a little for ya. One thing’s for certain-while my story may be a little tough with plenty of gristle (I just really like using the word “gristle” whenever I can!), it sure does contain a whole lotta flavor.    

I have arrived at a point in my life where everything I knew or though was real crumbled, and I have tried and tried to start over, but rather than picking myself and the pieces of my imploded life up and putting them back together, I  have more or less flopped and flopped and…well, flopped, like a fish out of water. A really big fish too, I might add. Like a King Salmon. Or a Baby Beluga. And at this point in the game, I’m tired of flopping. I hurt, like all over. Particularly my hip, which was just fractured earlier this month due to a particularly impressive “flopping” about of mine, when I fell down out in the middle of Downtown Seattle wearing the same dress I’d been wearing for the past four days accessorized beautifully with ridiculously high 4-inch wedge sandals which are really, realy cute, but should not be worn by someone who has been on an almost week-long vodka-and-chicken-fried-steak diet.

Do you  kinda see where this is going?

Do you kinda see why I might need like an “Extreme Life Makeover”???

For me, that’s what this Year Of Living Oprahtically is all about. It’s about me breaking down my life – which isn’t hard, it’s already crumbled down to the consistency of a nice blue cheese – examining and taking an inventory of every area, every facet, seeing where I’m at, and making big notes of the lessons I have learned. For any 12-steppers out there, you might relate to this as the ultimate 4th Step! LOL. Then, after my inventory has been taken, goals and dreams are assessed, and then I’m going to seek out solutions and devise a plan for me to achieve those goals. Much of the knowledge and support I intend to draw upon will be found within Oprah’s network, which I believe at this point, is far more vast than the Milky Way.  It’s also a little play on the title of AJ Jacobs bestselling My Year Of Living Biblically. God, I hope he doesn’t sue me.  (Maybe he won’t if I plug his book here)

Genius!

I just came up with the idea of, ok…this guy went out and lived strictly by the bible for one year, and recorded all the changes he noted in his life.  I wanted to take a year for myself and see what type of change and transformation I could make, and I thought to myself, “What would be the result if someone (like me) applied all of the little tips and ideas for Living Your Best Life NOW!? How much better would my life really be?” So the concept of “Living Oprahtically” came to mind, because you could pretty much create a whole school of philosophy based upon the volumes and volumes of information and help she and her guests have doled out over the years. If I live, every day, in accordance with Oprah’s mantra to Live My Best Life NOW!, (Is there a registered trademark on that thing?) applying on a daily basis the vast array of tips, tools,and techniques taught through her tv show and magazine, will I emerge a happier, healthier, wealthier, more luscious, thin and gorgeous, better-educated, more successful and just all-around-more supreme human being?

I sure as hell hope so. Cause I am in some serious need of upgradement. (Yes, I do realize that is not a real word. It should be.)

OK, so… I am going to take on my issues,and one by one, apply an “Oprahism” or two to each, and within a year’s time, we’ll see where I’m at.  At best- I will have lost 40 lbs, and have honed a body that would rival Megan Fox’s, shaved 10 years off my looks, launched a small company, written 2 memoirs and a screenplay, established myself as a queen of burlesque, starred in numerous local theatre productions, saved $10,000, eliminated all debt and cleared my horrific credit, traveled abroad to do missionary work, come home to a shopping spree, hot new haircut and a load of sexy makeup, a fantastic new apartment completely furnished with everything I have ever wanted that is cool…oh yeah.  And a husband. Perhaps I would have picked him up while overseas doing the work of God? Perhaps.

More likely, I’m hoping at least I can be back into a size 6, working at a job that does not require me to be a human cuisinart, doing something that is hopefully at least peripherally involved with theatre/comedy/writing/singing, etc. (I could have just said “creative arts” and been done with it), not guzzling a bottle of vodka every day, have a few friends, be cool with my family…oh yeah, it might be nice to have my own place again, and a car. Some dignity would be nice. And some sassy hair and at least a couple pairs of really great shoes. Oh yeah. And a man. An attractive one at that. 

And my toenail fungus cleared up.  Some glasses too, those I could really use. May as well spring for the Miracle Ear exam as well, I swear I am morphing into Helen Keller more and more every day.

Maybe I’ll solve the mysteries of my adoption and figure out finally the truth about my biological parents.

Perhaps I will learn how to write and express myself succinctly. Perhaps. 

JUVADERM!

You know, for once, I am actually truly excited ! I feel like this little blog and experiment of mine just might change my life!

Oh wait, yeah…right…that’s the whole point, isn’t it?!