tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8362177037726959062.post7116133738463266496..comments2023-04-13T03:11:45.141-05:00Comments on The Gift of Fat: This one really isn't funny. . .Mary A.http://www.blogger.com/profile/02662061273721145591noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8362177037726959062.post-22231159198579115722010-08-18T02:58:15.615-05:002010-08-18T02:58:15.615-05:00I definitely identify with Gertrude. My parents u...I definitely identify with Gertrude. My parents used to call me "Olive Oyl" because when I wore a pony tail (or "chongo" as we say in S.TX), I looked just like her. Spaghetti arms and legs, big hands, big feet, goofy as all get out and very shy about it. At some point I figured out that it was no fun being shy and got over it. Now, I'm not saying I don't feel like "Olive" anymore, I just try to pretend I don't. <br /><br />Mary, its wonderful that you are posting these blogs from the heart because it reminds me just how real, honest and wonderful each of us could be and also how fragile we really are.Connie R.noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8362177037726959062.post-777091187061016272010-08-15T20:39:57.637-05:002010-08-15T20:39:57.637-05:00Awwww. I bet you were spot-on. I do that too - som...Awwww. I bet you were spot-on. I do that too - sometimes you can look at a stranger and just know things about their lives. Sounds like she could really use a stylish boost from someone as wise and empathetic as you!Annabel Mannershttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13914796094091144046noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8362177037726959062.post-16895646502633696022010-08-15T16:06:13.176-05:002010-08-15T16:06:13.176-05:00Haha! The blind leading the blind! :)Haha! The blind leading the blind! :)Alexa Ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09980266579954005906noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8362177037726959062.post-44275022883594695112010-08-13T15:54:55.915-05:002010-08-13T15:54:55.915-05:00@ Alexa
Hey -- Maybe we could get Martha and Ger...@ Alexa <br /><br />Hey -- Maybe we could get Martha and Gertrude together for a makeover party!Mary A.https://www.blogger.com/profile/02662061273721145591noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8362177037726959062.post-17682031018567926472010-08-13T12:43:11.086-05:002010-08-13T12:43:11.086-05:00I so identify with this post. It's funny, but...I so identify with this post. It's funny, but the older I get the more I realize that we ALL have an inner Lisa (or Martha, or Gertrude, who is mine). Often, the most vivacious, extroverted people, who seem the most confident, have the most trouble with their Lisa.<br /><br />Gertrude is tall--like a giraffe, not like a model-- and she slouches. She wears braces. When she smiles, there's always food in her teeth. She has a really, really loud and dorky laugh, and she smiles too much-- like she's begging you to love her. Her clothes are loud but not in a good way, and her feet are huge and clompy. Like platapus feet. She talks so much that when she walks away, people roll their eyes and say, "God, somebody shut that girl UP."<br /><br />Are you getting a picture? <br /><br />Yeah, that's Gertrude. If I ever see her in an elevator, I will absolutely have to blog about it. Because that's terrifying.Alexa Ohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09980266579954005906noreply@blogger.com