If you haven’t heard about the Virginia Tech shooting, educate yourself with a google search. For the 99% of the world that’s seen the news, the title of this post is truly fitting.

I look over my room, see all this *stuff*, all these clothes…and realize that honestly, that’s not what I want to think about today, or focus on today.

I don’t know the shooter. I never got to talk to him, I don’t know what he was going through. I do know that he killed a lot of people, and to add insult to injury, killed himself. There’s no one to beat up, there’s no one to scream at, nothing. There are fingers pointing in a million directions, a lonely student that was so filled with rage that he exploded. Was it only a matter of time?

I don’t know how to fix the problem — all I know is that it hurts. Having lost many people over the years (including close friends that were murdered), I still am left with one question: How do we keep this from happening?

We. really. don’t. know.

Today is not a fashion day. Today is a day for thought.

I could not be the bearer of such terrible news to a parent that waits for the day their child comes back home to them, fresh out of college and ready to take on the world.

I am terribly sorry, to those that are burying their children, as well as those that are left with children scrambling to figure out how to move on, how to get past that terrible day. It would be half-baked to exclude them from the list.

To the family of the shooter, you too have lost a child, and for that I am sorry. I pray that the other families will give you peace — you are not your child’s actions.

For the rest of the world, we are left with questions, left with quiet glances at our own children, and constant wonder about what else life will throw at us. Virginia Tech could have easily been Missouri State, could have easily been Duke, or Harvard, or Yale. It could have been your local community college. Maybe that’s why the story touches so many people.

I’ll post tomorrow, but I can’t right now.

Skirts. Dresses. Blouses. I’ve never really been a t-shirt and jeans type of person. One thing I’m really interested in are short skirts.

Yes, I said it: short skirts. It’s not a crime for a plus-sized gal to be able to slip into something slinky that sits a few inches above the knee, flirty and feminine. Or maybe a long skirt with a dangerously-high slit. I’m into sexy-looking clothes for evening wear, and unless I bump heads with the lingerie sites, I’m incapable of locating what I’m looking for.

So I’m turning to the greatest audience on earth — help! And an additional question — what’s your sexy?

And no, I actually did some checking online too

OK, you can’t shop ALL the time…though I think some ladies would challenge me on that note!

I found an awesome video about chopping onions. I’m finding that I’m using onions a lot more — about to get up and make an omelette, hopefully — and the chopping of the onion would be fantastic.

So here’s the video. I suppose tomorrow I’ll have to come up with some fashion news, huh?

Happy Easter / Resurrection Sunday to those observing the holiday, and to those still surviving Pesach (Passover), happy no-leavening remembrance to you too! OK, I’m suffering silently, but it’s not helping that Martha’s in the kitchen making hot crossed buns so good I want to reach into the tv and take them all!

Some of you may know that I’ve been bouncing back and forth between choosing a way of eating. Why didn’t I mention the dreaded “D” word? Because we know all about that. I want to talk about a way of eating — it may be high fiber / high protein, low carb, low fat, low calorie. Whatever your “diet” (which really should just describe what you shove into your yap. I shove lots of kosher, organic, and often high carb things into my trap. However, now I’m a little smarter about what I shove into my yap.) consists of, it’s a personal choice that only turns public when we socialize …but since food is also culture, it bears discussion here as well.

I have often wondered why I am so obsessive about personally curbing food in various ways. I’ve gone nuts over carbs, slashing and burning like an angry flame zipping through a forest. I’ve declared a war on sugar, cutting away sugary sodas. OK, so I’m proud of giving up my soda. Unfortunately, I haven’t really seen the results of that.

I drink 100% juice, even though it has lots of carbs, and I try to eat as much organic food as possible. That part doesn’t quite bother me.

But I can’t keep counting. I can’t keep counting calories, carbs, fat… I can limit my portions.
I can’t keep stressing that I only manage to get 25 minutes of cardio at the gym, while other women there can do an hour or more. I can only worry about myself.

I cannot believe how sick I’ve made myself…maybe not physically, but mentally. I feel terrible to admit this, but I also feel terrible if I didn’t mention it. I’d be doing all of you a great disservice. I’m not perfect, and never will be.

I’ve been silent here on DG for a while because of this. It’s odd, and embarassing to say on a public blog where THOUSANDS of you are viewing this every month, but there it is. I never realized how depressed this has made me until today. So in a way, I do apologize — I haven’t done my job. Writing this blog post just might help someone else.

We’re all smart, dynamic, amazing women. I was going to keep this private, but I wanted to share it with all of you. Thank you for listening.