Saturday, December 31, 2011

2011 Goals - Review

-become more disciplined. (in every aspect of my life. exercise, food, sleep, etc.)
I have to say, this has been an extreme year of change.  Two pretty big break-ups, Aiden's father walking out of our lives, followed by all the court dates and paperwork that it takes to revoke parental rights, weight loss and finding some of my inner confidence, and probably more than anything else, learning to love myself a little.  Exercise has become my drug of choice.  If I'm sad, mad, frustrated, lost, it's what I turn to.  I didn't manage to eat as well, or sleep as well as I would have liked to ALL year, but for the most part I've learned a lot to put into better practice in the new year.

- lose 40 lbs. this is less than a pound a week. this is doable.
I lost 25.  But more than anything else, I managed to NOT gain it back over November and December.  Last year I managed to gain back 15 during the holidays. 

- go one full month without television.
Not continuously, no.  We went nearly a week and a half this last May with minimal television while on vacation, and since the beginning of the school year, I've been enacting the no television rule one day out of the week.  This is something we need to work on.

- continue to practice "no fat/ugly talk" with myself.
I have my moments.  November served as my "learn to love myself" month, and even through all of my flaws and all of my mistakes, and everything that I would love to CHANGE about myself, I realized that I am all I've got.  It matters to me more than it matters to everyone else, and even though I haven't been able to love the WHOLE me, just yet, I am able to find bits and pieces that I find absolutely amazing.

- be a positive inspiration to my son. this basically translates to not yelling as much.
I still yell too much.  I nitpick on little things that probably really don't matter.  He's a GOOD boy.  He knows how much I love him, how much I cherish him, and that I would do anything in the world for him.  He has developed a love of reading that I only can hope will continue as he gets older.  He is caring and kind and gentle...

- organize!
*laughs*  it's better this year than last.  I need to practice the de-hoarding better.  Get rid of things I don't need, don't use, and have no real value.  Things do not equal happiness.

- make it through another Christmas without going into the red!
Total and unequivocal WIN! I spent more this Christmas than I have in the last 8 years, but I still have a substantial amount of money in my savings account, I have been able to pay all of my bills and not pick and choose in order to make ends meet for the holidays.  It's such a terrific feeling to not have to walk into the new year wondering how we're going to make it to the next paycheck.

It has been an amazing year.  Through all of the heart break, the trials and tribulations, there has also been endless amounts of joy.  My sister's engagement.  My parents buying and cultivating the property next door into a wonderful garden wonderland.  Aiden having an MRI and coming out scott free.  All of us with our health.  I have fallen in love, I have forged strong, tight bonds with my closest of friends.  I LAUGHED.

There is nothing in this world that can't be made better by simply throwing more love at it.

Friday, December 30, 2011

December Goals - Review

- go to the gym 12 times.
If I get the chance to go tomorrow (fingers crossed) that will make 13 times this month.  I haven't been since last Thursday, though, since Aiden has been out of school.  I could have TOTALLY made my usual 15!

- maintain my weight. 
Scale as of this morning was one pound more than what I have written down for the beginning of the month.  With all of the alcohol and food consumed, that's pretty damn good!

- cook at least TWO new meals, and document.
If by meals I meant Christmas goodies, then yes, yes I did!  I made oreo balls, and nutella cookies, and pumpkin rolls, and butterscotch haystacks :)  I made one new meal, a ground turkey sloppy joe.  Hamburger is still better.

- do the 30 day shred, or any other Jillian the Devil video once a week. 
FAIL.  zero.

- continue to let go of the negative.
This one is a WIN.  I've been extremely level headed, not too exceptionally moody, and able to see a lot of things clearly for the first time in a long time.  It's been a good month.

- keep the apartment at an acceptable level of clean.
Other than a couple of days when I was cooking in large quantities, I think I've been really good at cleaning this month.

- go through, sort out, donate/give away clothes that Aiden no longer fits into. 
They are sorted and boxed, but not yet donated.

- lotion.  Everyday. 
WIN!  Softest skin OF MY LIFE!

- finish the book I'm currently reading.
FAIL.  still trucking through it though.

- finish one piece of art that has been started and set aside for an indeterminate amount of time.
FAIL on my own art.  I did, however, transfer from video tape to DVD my father's old videos from his children's theater.

- drink more WATER.
WIN!  I pee all the time.

- take myself to a movie, any movie.  eat a bag of popcorn with butter, drink a soda, and enjoy my own company for a few hours.
Had planned on going to see the remake of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo tonight, but I've been sick the last few days and a night at home was beckoning.

- don't allow anyone to treat me like I deserve less.  Don't let anyone try to sell me short on what I really want and really deserve.  I am NO ONE'S second best. 
Some things in the last week or so have gotten messy and confusing.  I am, probably for the first time in my life, doing what I want to do.  Not what I think my parents would be okay with, not what the logical choice is, but what *I* want.  It's my life.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Easy come, easy go, that's just how you live (prose)

There are days when I think of him fondly, or not at all.

There are days when I get so angry at him, at all I offered him, how I was going through a rough time and he wasn't able to be there for me, but he was able to push me aside.

There are days when I ask myself "What the hell was I thinking?  Was I drunk our whole relationship?"  The answer to that of course is no.  But I had thought on more than one occasion, "this is it, this is the man I am meant to spend the rest of my life with."

He had seen me at my best, he had been able to see glimpses of my worst, but he never once really opened up to me.  My only regret being that I wasn't able to spend more time with him.  I never once regretted the hours I spent in the car going to him or coming back from him.  I cherished our time together like it was gold.

I did, however, know when it was over, even before he had spoken the words.

And days like today, my heart aches.

Not for him, but for who I was when I was with him.

How he made me feel, about myself, about my life.

He allowed me to believe that I wasn't completely broken, that I was able to care very deeply for someone else, that all of the past loves hadn't stolen that away from me.

What the hell was I thinking?

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

To sum it up...

I will be doing a year review post in the next couple of days, but I wanted to do a little sum up of my own that isn't necessarily goal related.

2011 allowed me to grow and love and hurt all in equal measures.

I started the year in a relationship with B.  In a decision I didn't see coming, he decided that we no longer needed to be together.  My biggest issue with all of that business was that there was no warning.  Everything was great until suddenly it wasn't.  It took me over six months to come to terms with that, and realize I was much better off without him.

I took a girl's only long weekend trip to Las Vegas with my sister.  Even though I was still carrying a lot of the demons from my failed relationship, I allowed myself to let loose, have a good time, and spent the majority of the weekend not think of anything other than having fun.

In May, my mother, father, Aiden and I all took a 9 day vacation in Florida.  Contrary to what usually happens on family vacations, we all got along famously.  We spent 4 days laying on the beach, swimming in the gulf, having cocktail hour with my 87 year old great aunt, ate WAY too much food, and laughed.  Then we spent two days at Disney, and two days at Universal Studios.  I returned from that trip about five shades darker, and more relaxed than I had been in years. 

I spent the first of the summer months sitting on my deck, drinking beer and reading books.  Aiden swam and played soccer and I tested the dating waters again.  I connected with D.  We had been casually talking since early February, but on a friend level.  I can't pinpoint when exactly that changed, but it happened fast and furious.

There was a comfort with him that I don't think I had felt in a long time.  It was drama free (for the most part, being that there were three boys under the age of 10 running around.)  He made me realize, once again, that I wasn't as emotionally broken as I thought I was.  I was able to care about someone.  I fell deeply in love with his children, I clung too tightly, and then he let me go.

After your son's father walks out of his life, nothing seems so bad any longer.  I took the breakup with D much better than I had with B, but I ached in different ways.  I threw myself into my friends, my art, and more importantly, myself.

I spent the last quarter of this year learning how to love myself, even if not perfectly, then just a little bit more than I had.  I am a dedicated and striving person.  I set goals, even if I don't meet them all, I do meet some of them.  I push myself to find out why things are they way they are, and change what is in my power to change.  Through this, I have learned that we all tend to be far harder on ourselves than other people would ever be capeable of being on us.  We hold ourselves up to this impossible standard, and I speak for myself only when I say I punish myself, continuously, for things that are either completely out of my control, or for things that happened so far in the past that they barely register on anyone's radar but my own.

I am me.  I love people too much, give too much of myself, and want endlessly for someone else to show even the slightest bit of that back in return.  I write in prose and attempt poetry. 

Bring it on 2012.  I will own you!

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Christmas and everything in between

I recently read a really interesting article here about keeping the magic in Christmas. 

I was one of those children who believed in Santa long past his expiration date for many of my classmates.  I heard all of the talk, and I'm not sure if I just didn't listen to it, because I had a younger sister and I wanted to keep the magic alive for her, or if it was because I had a hard time letting go of Santa in the same way that I have a hard time letting go of a lot of things in my life.

I was 11, sitting in the bathroom at a playhouse in Republican City where I was in a stage production of Annie Get Your Gun.  I was by far the youngest cast member, and spent a large chuck of time by myself because of this.  I was on the verge of puberty, only having recently sprung boobie bumps.  Two women walked into the restroom to do their makeup and obviously didn't notice my little shoes underneath the stalls.  They proceeded to talk about how old THEY were when they found out that Santa, and the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth fairy weren't real.  I was crushed.

I hid this knowledge from my parents for as long as I possibly could, unwilling to part with the gifts such naivete afforded me.

Anyway, the purpose of this diatribe was because this is Aiden's 9th Christmas.  The excitement for Santa is fading, along with the belief.  He hasn't quite put all of the pieces together, but he knows enough to know that something is up.  He knows enough to question why the Santa helpers at the mall and downtown, if they're elves, why are they normal person size.  He wasn't as excited tonight about setting out cookies and milk (although he was very convincing in that it had to be milk and not orange juice.)  My little boy is growing up, and like my best friend T said to me the other day, "He's become a real person, not just a baby."  It makes my heart proud, but nostalgic all at the same time.

Regardless of what you believe, or what you may happen to celebrate, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you.  I hope you all are surrounded by people you love (or at least like a whole lot.)  I am lucky to have this extremely small in number but HUGE in love and laughter family.  They are my best friends, and they complete me in ways I could never explain.  My heart hurts for people who never know that kind of love, giving or receiving.

Love always,

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Letter to all (straight, looking for a relationship, single) men.

I wrote this a week or so ago.  Wasn't planing on posting it, but it still makes me giggle, so here you go.

Dear single (or as my luck would normally have it, not so single) men of the world (or more specifically south-central Nebraska),

No, I do not want you to send me a text message photo of your penis.

I am aware that there are some really good guys out there, but chances are, you are not one of them, no matter how many times you may claim to be.

There is nothing wrong with me. I don't need to be changed, or persuaded, or saved.  Even though I am extremely strong in my political beliefs, I also understand that other people have differing opinions than myself, let's have a conversation about it rather than an arguement.

No, I will not send you a text message photo of my breasts.

Chances are, no matter how cool you actually believe yourself to be, unless your name is Johnny Depp, you are NOT cool.  You are a loser.  You are single for a reason, or many reasons.  You are most likely not worthy of my time or attention, and the fact that I'm giving you this much is a miracle.  I am worth waiting around for if I tell you I'm not ready for a defined relationship.

I am strong and independent and able to support myself.  I can unclog a drain, fix a dryer belt, and unclog a garbage disposal.  I don't need you for any of those things.  I work hard, and I play hard, but I also really enjoy spending quiet nights at home on my couch with a book or a movie.

No, I do not want to feel your abs.

I have been hurt in the past, just like you, and I may hold some of the past pains up to the things you are offering me.  I will be upfront and honest about doing this, and I expect the same.  We can work it out, together.

I do not need to be told every other sentence how beautiful you think I am.  It's nice to hear it every once in a while, but if you say it too much, I start thinking that the only reason you want to spend time with me is because you think I'm so beautiful.  I am so much more than my appearance.

I can be a bitch.  A real, honest to God, raging bitch.  If I bite your head off, I promise I will eventually make up for it.  I have a good sense of humor, but I will not laugh at your pathetic attempts at humor.  I will not laugh at pathetically stupid movies.  I will laugh if you happen to drop food on your shirt, or spill your drink on your lap.

I will give you the world on a silver platter, but I expect nothing less in return.  I will be your rock.  I will be your shoulder to cry on, your arms to comfort, and the voice on the other end of the line when you need nothing more than a voice.

I am not asking you to give me the world.  I am perfectly capable of going out and seizing the world by the balls on my very own.  I just want you to give me all of you.  Every honest, raw, disgusting little bit.  You have to listen when I talk, not just pretend to.  You can't talk to me like I am either a child, or one of your employees, because I am neither.

Oh, and it'll probably help your case if you are good in bed.

All my (maybe) love,

Sunday, December 4, 2011

December Goals 2011

 Just a couple of days late on my December goals.  You'll have to forgive me for that as it was my son's 8th birthday on the 1st, we had a sleepover with his best friend on the 2nd, and yesterday we went to see Happy Feet Two and did Christmas shopping.  So, here we go.

- go to the gym 12 times.  I'm going to be realistic and 15 this month may be pushing it.  If I can do 12 or more, I'm going to be extremely happy with myself.

- maintain my weight.  Once again, a more realistic goal.  It's the holidays, there is going to be a lot of good food, a lot of drinking, and a lot of family.  I am not willing to sacrifice all of that (and the family togetherness) in order for the scale to drop.  I'm going for balance in my life.

- cook at least TWO new meals, and document.

- do the 30 day shred, or any other Jillian the Devil video once a week.  Twice is too taxing, especially now.  I hate her.

- continue to let go of the negative.

- keep the apartment at an acceptable level of clean.

- go through, sort out, donate/give away clothes that Aiden no longer fits into.  With birthday clothes, he should be able to make it to Christmas without wearing high-water pants.

- lotion.  Everyday.  If I stop doing this I get scaly.  I know this by now, so I shouldn't have to put it in a goal, but I get lazy, dammit.

- finish the book I'm currently reading.

- finish one piece of art that has been started and set aside for an indeterminate amount of time.

- drink more WATER.

- take myself to a movie, any movie.  eat a bag of popcorn with butter, drink a soda, and enjoy my own company for a few hours.

- don't allow anyone to treat me like I deserve less.  Don't let anyone try to sell me short on what I really want and really deserve.  I am NO ONE'S second best.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

November Goals - Review

- go to the gym 15 times.
WIN!  Today was #16.  I would have been there at least four more days, but the gym closed down for a location move two weeks ago, and I was sick the last two Mondays.

- lose 5 lbs. 
WIN!  Stepping on the scale tonight, I'm down 7.

- cook at least TWO new meals, and document.
WIN!  Made Hawaiian Chicken with Pineapple and Pepper Rice.

Also made Low-Fat Chicken and Pesto Shells with Homemade (courtesy of my mom) Pasta Sauce. 

- do the 30 day shred, or any other Jillian the Devil video twice a week.
Did it five times this month, so that's a little over once a week.  Tried doing it one morning when I couldn't sleep and that was the beginning of my stomach flu and I threw up half way through... Have had an aversion to it since.

- start the process of letting go of the things in my life that are bringing me down.
This is always a learning process.  I'm working on it.

- tell myself ONE good thing about myself every day.
WIN!  I went even farther than that and posted to facebook every day.  It wasn't always easy, and I have chronicled them together in a word document that I am going to print out.

- love unconditionally and endlessly from the tips of my fingers all the way to my heart. 
This one remains to be worked on.  I met someone, but his feelings were a lot stronger than mine were and he wasn't willing to stick around and wait for me to be ready.  He obviously wasn't the one.  I'm okay with it.

- "accept what people have to offer, drink their milkshakes, take their love."
See above.

- read two books from start to finish.
FAIL!  Read one.  I don't remember the name of it right now, but the same author as The Pilot's Wife.  It was good.  I am about half way through with Devil in the White City.  It's interesting but a bit of a slow read.

- finish one piece of art that has been started and set aside for an indeterminate amount of time.
WIN!  have my paint set out, and I'm sitting down to finish my first canvas tonight.

- drink more red wine.
WIN! This was the easiest one on my list!  Last night I even got to taste a friend's homemade dry red wine (made with grapes, watermelon, and cherries!).  Divine.

- take myself to a movie, any movie.  eat a bag of popcorn with butter, drink a soda, and enjoy my own company for a few hours.
Went to see Breaking Dawn twice.  First time with Tancy, second time with my mom and sister.  Not alone, but totally worth it.

- start to forgive.  everything.  everyone. especially myself.
I would say that this month was one giant step forward.  I'm not angry anymore.  I'm not so much hurt any more.  I am okay with things.  I am more okay with me than I have been in a long time, maybe ever.  Please feel free to remind me of this when I'm complaining again about something I have little to no control over. :)

Bring it on DECEMBER! 

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

"We feel it's unacceptable to be fat, when it has nothing to do with who the person actually is." -Gwyneth Paltrow

 For a very long time I have thought being fat meant being unattractive.  (This is only in regards to myself.  I have always found voluptuous women more attractive and easier to talk to than the skinny ones.  This is my own image of myself I'm talking in regards to.)  And being unattractive meant being ugly.  So this in turn meant that if I was fat, I was ugly.  I have been fat for a while now.  Fat people are invisible, and it's only now after I've lost close to 60 pounds, fit into sizes I haven't fit into since high school, and am actually able to look at my body and not completely hate it, that I'm just starting to realize this.

What I haven't yet learned is if we as fat people are invisible because society makes us that way.  It's not polite to stare at the fat girl, so instead we're just going to pretend she doesn't exist?  Or is it to do with my self esteem growing as my weight is shrinking?  Are people more apt to talk to me in the halls at work, in the grocery store, on dating sites, because I'm more likely to talk to them rather than avert my eyes and continue to be invisible?

In this month of reinvention, I have been reading blogs of people who at least appear to have their shit together.  They love themselves for who they are and nothing more, but certainly nothing less.  Things I have a problem with?  The majority of these bloggers are skinny girls who have always been skinny girls (not that there's anything WRONG with that) but I just can't relate to them.  In my own mind I'm thinking "Of course you're happy!  You've never been called fat!  You've never gone into a clothing store and not been able to find something you could fit into!  You have no idea what unhappiness is!"  All of this I know is completely false and everyone knows what it's like to be unhappy about one thing or another, but it's nearly impossible for me to follow the advice of a stranger telling me "love yourself!" when they've never REALLY been in my shoes.

Now onto the question of do I love myself?  More so now than probably ever.  I get very disappointed in my lack of progress over the last few months, but then I put on my clothes and they're all baggy.  I shave my legs and I don't get winded.  I can see and feel the definition of muscles in my legs and arms and back and shoulders and waist that I have never been able to feel before.  I can walk at an 8 degree inclined treadmill, and yes, I get winded, and yes, I get sweaty, but I can do it.  I sleep better at night (most of the time) and it's so much easier for me to get up in the morning.  There are still days when I absolutely hate myself and who I am and what I look like, but those days are fewer and farther between.

Now, onto the dating.  I have a really hard time believing someone when they tell me I am beautiful.  I have never taken compliments well, and when we get back to the whole fat = ugly issue, and there is a huge mess.  I chalk it up to taking good photos, and of course I wouldn't post the ones that are bad.  I take probably five bad photos to every one good one.  I am squishy and short and kind of have an attitude problem on even the best of days.  Beautiful?  Pft.  Stop lying.  It's also one thing to have someone tell you you're beautiful online. (which, sadly, is where I do most of my dating...) But to have them tell you in person, to your face, and your first response is "Shut UP!"

There's something wrong with me.

So, for any fellow fatties out there, what do you think?  Invisibility because that's what society is taught to do, or do we seclude ourselves from people unintentionally to try to hide our size?  Or a combination of both?  And what can we do to end it?

Sunday, November 27, 2011

I guess that I don't need that, though, now you're just somebody that I used to know

Happiness is a fickle thing.  It ebbs and it flows just like every other aspect of life, so why am I just starting to figure this out now? 

This last month has been a month of attempting to rediscover myself.  I have met some new people, read some really fantastic books, and watched more movies than I had planned to.  I have been able to spend more time at the gym than not, and my gym actually closed down for four days while they moved to a new location (which I am still getting used to.)

A close friend said something to me a few weeks ago that really hit home.  She said, "Being angry with someone is like you drinking poison, and expecting him to die from it."  Hello open eyeballs.  I have been trying to incorporate this into more aspects of my life than my personal.  Work especially.  I don't necessarily walk around all day pissed off, but I know I do spend a good portion of it completely frustrated.

My mind has cleared in ways that are more evident in my home life.  I've started cooking again.  I've managed to keep my living spaces picked up and mostly clean for close to a month (and for those of you who know me in any capacity, you know this is a feat in and of itself.)  I have folded the laundry within 24 hours of it being dry.  I have done the dishes every night.  My mind is cleared, therefore my life is a lot more put together.

I want to write about some of the personal changes I've gone through in the last two years since I started actively trying to lose weight, but I don't feel like I'm quite ready at this time.

I have been dealing with some health related issues, mostly hormone imbalances which I am starting to believe are linked to my birth control, but I'm starting to believe that the weight loss has played a part in this as well.  I've started to seriously look into getting an IUD after the beginning of the year.  I'm tired of irregular cycles and excruciatingly tender breasts, and mood swings.  I know you might not want to hear about all of that, but you know what?  It's my life, and this is something I'm dealing with right now.

I want to leave you with a song that was shared with me this last week.  Very rarely do songs come along that will change you mind and soul.  This is one of them.  Another completely eye opening moment. 
Gotye : Somebody that I used to know

Friday, November 11, 2011

Friends on Fridays - Boy #2

Josh and I have been friends for a LONG time.  We're talking 12+ years long time.  His family was my family my last two years of high school.  If I wasn't at home or at work, you could bet money on me being at Josh's house.  We would cuddle under his blue sleeping bag and take naps.  I would lay on his living room floor while he banged continuously on his drums.  This is the boy who nearly broke my nose on his trampoline.

Josh and I fell out of touch in the months before I got pregnant with Aiden.  For a long time I thought I was in love with him, and I was certain that he would never be able to feel the same things back, or that he wanted to, but would never allow himself to.  It's amazing how things like love get jumbled up in our hearts and our heads when we're young.

It took me close to a decade to realize that my love for this boy was not the love you felt for a lover, but rather the love you felt for a friend, or a brother. 

In the last year, more than ever, Josh has served as my sounding board.  He is always there when I need him, only a text message away.  He has assured me, on too many occasions to count, that I am not a terrible mother, that I am not a terrible friend, that people LOVE me.  He makes his point known in a way that is loving but firm.  There is a no nonsense stance to him, and it has only ever gotten stronger as we've gotten older.  This man probably knows more about me than most people, only because he's known me long enough to be able to call me on my bullshit.  When he tells me things, I know they are true.  There is no questioning with Josh.

He took care of me when I was too drunk to walk.  He was my textual shoulder to cry on in the several occasions when it felt like my world was crumbling in on itself for various reasons.  He is the constant reassurance that I have a friend, who wants to be my friend, simply for the sake of being my friend.

I spent a lot of my high school years being mad at him.  Not for what he did, but what he failed to do, and that was fall head over heels in love with me.  Only now am I realizing that perhaps he did, but it was just a different kind of love.

Cheers, Josh.  Here's to another decade of pissing each other off and being there all at the same time.  I love you!

Friday, November 4, 2011

Friends on Fridays - Heterosexual Lifemates

Tancy and I met back in early May of 2004.  Aiden was just over five months old, and Tancy was around 6 months pregnant, and as round as a beach ball.  She was loud and crude, and frankly, scared the poop out of me.  We worked together for around 4 years before she changed departments.  We stayed in contact through random run-ins at work, our children's birthday parties, and going to friend's places and drinking.  I can honestly say that there wasn't ever a time I DIDN'T like her.

It was because of her that I was finally able to get out of the Nutrition department at the hospital.  She vied for me for Materials Management, talked me up, and finally walked into my boss's office one day and just said "Are you going to hire Sadie now?"  He did.

Over the last two years, she has become sort of like a lifeline for me.  She is the person who is (usually) always there, via text or phone when I need her.  She is a realist who will not sugar coat things.  She tells me things like they are, whether or not I want to hear them.  She plays a very good devils advocate, but at the same time is excellent at listening without giving opinions.  She is my wife.  There is no other way to describe her.  No one on this planet can read me better than she can.  We fight like we're married, we party like we're siblings, and she has brought out a part of me that I didn't know was buried in there for a very long time.

She has been there through two of the toughest breakups of my life.  She has listened to me cry, and let me be the crazy drunk.  She hasn't judged when I tell her that I want to sit at home and eat a pound of chocolate and not talk to anyone all weekend long, and she proudly wears her "team edward" shirt next to me in the theater while I'm wearing my "team jacob" shirt.  We have seen the last two (soon to be three) twilight saga movies at the theater around noon on opening day.  It took me seven years, but I finally talked her into reading the Harry Potter series.

She shares my love of books, sexy male celebrities, and noisy body functions.  This woman can burp like no man I have EVER heard burp before.  We both have seven year old boys, so stories about wieners and them walking around naked, are endless.  She, literally, lives next door to me.  Our bedroom windows face each other, and though we don't make a habit of looking into each other's bedroom windows (though we have had a conversation or two through them in the afternoons and early evenings,) it's sometimes just nice to know, as a single person, that one of my favorite people is only 15 seconds away.

Do I always like the decisions she makes, or the things she chooses to do?  Hell no.  But I think she knows that I will support HER no matter what her decisions are, even if I don't agree with them. 

This next Tuesday is her last day in my department at the hospital.  She's moving on to bigger and better things.  "You're going to be so mad at me!" was the phone call I got when she told me about being offered a new position elsewhere.  And I'm not mad.  I am so beyond happy for her.  Neither of us is destined to remain a Supply Tech for the rest of our lives.  We're both too smart and driven for that.  She just happened to be the first to make it out of the trappings of the catholic health system.  I am so happy, and boundlessly proud of her for that.  It's really going to SUCK not having my best friend there day in and day out.  I'm going to have to find other people to converse with, seek advice from, and waste my time with.  I have no doubt that I'm going to get by just fine without her there, it's just not going to be as enjoyable.

So this is to my heterosexual lifemate.  My wife that we don't touch wet spots.  I love you!

Monday, October 31, 2011

November Goals 2011

We're going to pretend that I never made any September goals (even though I managed to keep the majority of them, the rug was sort of pulled out from under me at the end of the month, and the desire to document ANYTHING kind out went out the window with it), and that the month of October did not exist.

In doing this we're going to skip over what I'm referring to as my "dark time" (read: my hair, specifically) and move on to November, which will be bigger and better and much more entertaining.

- go to the gym 15 times.  (made it there 15 in October... this CAN be done)

- lose 5 lbs.  (I'm optimistic that it will actually be more, but 5 is a good place to start.)

- cook at least TWO new meals, and document.

- do the 30 day shred, or any other Jillian the Devil video twice a week.

- start the process of letting go of the things in my life that are bringing me down.

- tell myself ONE good thing about myself every day.

- love unconditionally and endlessly from the tips of my fingers all the way to my heart.  Just because people don't love me, doesn't mean I can't love them, and it doesn't mean that other people can't love me.

- "accept what people have to offer, drink their milkshakes, take their love."

- read two books from start to finish.

- finish one piece of art that has been started and set aside for an indeterminate amount of time.

- drink more red wine.

- take myself to a movie, any movie.  eat a bag of popcorn with butter, drink a soda, and enjoy my own company for a few hours.

- start to forgive.  everything.  everyone. especially myself.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Wedding Slim Down

My sister is getting married this next September.  She and I have both decided that there needs to be some changes before this can happen.  It's hard to have a workout/diet partner that is 6+ hours away from you, but we're going to give it a try.

I'm sending this out into the universe as a way to hold myself accountable.  We have a food and exercise schedule.  We are going to take it one week at a time.  7 days.  And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited.

So, here's my shout out, to all of you, for some good, lowfat, filling recipes.  Anything rice or bean related is a plus.  Soup recipes.  Send them my way!

Friday, October 28, 2011

Friends on Fridays (giving something new a try)

In my desire to start loving myself (even if it's just a little bit), I have decided to start doing something on Fridays in which I give back a little bit of the love that I get.  I want the people in my life to know how much I care about them, how thankful I am that they are in my life, and the debts I owe to all of them are endless.  I have so many friends that I consider to be my family that I know this will take me a long time to get through everyone, but I think it'll be worth it.

It wasn't hard try to figure out who I was going to start with.  Over the last thirteen years, this woman has been a shoulder for me to cry on.  We finally met face to face 8 years ago, and though I don't see her nearly enough, she is there for me in ways that most people who are HERE are not.  She understands me without judging, she loves me without asking for anything in return.  She has been my rock through my last two break-ups.  The person on the other end of the phone when I am a blubbering mess and crying so hard that I can't even get the words out.

She is fierce and fabulous, beautiful and genuine.  The most real person I know.  She would give a stranger her coat, defend a friend for no other reason than they are her friend, and she can make even the most traumatic of situations bearable.  She has made me laugh when I am crying. 

She is Clare.

Clare and I met online, back in the late summer of 1998.  We shared a love of Hanson, and of writing and creating websites to feature our writings and photos and boring high school lives.  We met for the first time in 2003 when I was about 6 months pregnant.  We bought her a scalped ticket for the Hanson show, ate a pizza that was bigger than both of our heads combined, and she protected me and my ever growing belly in a sea of women trying to get on stage.  She grabbed Taylor's pinkie finger and held on for dear life.

I talked with her on the basement stairs at D's house when things were good with us.  I whispered quietly to her about how much I loved him.  She was the first person to call me when I sent out the S.O.S. the night we broke up.  She stayed on the other end of the phone with me, even when I was so immersed in tears that I couldn't breathe.  She reminded me of the words my mother had told her when she was heart broken.  "Don't accept anything less than a man who absolutely adores you."

She was the first person to come to mind when I decided to write this, because she was also someone who was unrelentingly there last night when I realized that D was actively seeking another relationship, not even a month after the break-up.  I felt worthless, and like I never mattered to him.  Ever.

"You're so mean to my friend Sadie."  She said to me. "Learn to love her recklessly, with no excuses.  Life is too short.  You're the fucking best."

So here I am, trying.  Trying to learn to love me, regardless of my faults.  Thanking the one person who has believed in me even when I've been endlessly stupid. 

Thank you, Clare.  For loving me, for being there for me, and for telling me what I NEED to hear, not what I WANT to hear.

I love you!

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Two Trees (old poetry)

Two Trees
She was a sun kissed child of the 80’s
I was her best friend; we swore ‘til the end.

We were two girls, she and I
She was the only person who made me feel
Good about myself, made me feel alive.

We nailed up two hammocks, one right on top
Of the other, swinging between two trees.

The forth of July we threw fireworks
Into her hollow tree in the front lawn;
Watched it smoke until the fire inside, died.

I drove by her house the other evening
Those two trees were just piles of cut up wood.

We used to lay and sip our lemonade
While scrawny legs hug off itchy hammocks.

Friday, October 14, 2011

I never meant to let it get away from me.

I have written this blog about a hundred times in my head over the last two weeks.  In some instances, it is the sad, weeping "OMG I can't live without you."  Sometimes it is the pissed off "I HATE YOU!" blog entry.  Occasionally, I find myself being extremely mature and simply channelling Adele and saying "I wish nothing but the best for you."  In all actuality, I am feeling a little bit of all of those combined at any given time.

D and I broke things off two weeks ago yesterday.  I guess I should be honest and say that he broke things off.  In the last two weeks I have cried a lot, slept even less, and there were a couple of nights when I walked around my apartment, not knowing what to do, and feeling completely lost.  My apartment became my sanctuary.  It was just as messy as my brain was, and none of my pieces seemed to fit.  In the last two weeks I have taken a good long look at myself, and realized that even if I wasn't right for him, or any of the men I have thought I was right for in the past, that I am a good person, and I am right for SOMEONE.  It also made me take a step back and realize what I am looking for, more than anything else right now.

Companionship.  I want someone to hang out with.  Don't get me wrong, hanging out with Aiden every night during the week up until 7:30 is fun, and the biggest joy of my life, but I stay up way later than 7:30 most days.  There are hours up hours that are taken up by nothing.  I don't need a lover, even though a lover would be a bonus.  What I want is a best friend.  Even my best of friends have fallen by the side on this.  T goes out of town every weekend to visit her boyfriend, and even when he comes here, he doesn't like me so I don't get to see her then, either.  M works nights, and is busy with school.  My sister lives six hours away.  I want someone to cook dinner with, watch TV with, laugh and cry and tell jokes with.

I was never anyone but myself with D, flaws and all.  But once again, I'm told "it's not you, it's me."  How can you change something if you're not made aware of what there is to fix?

Losing him as my counterpart is only made more difficult by the fact that I fell deeply in love with his children.  I had picked out Christmas presents, and birthday presents.  I had made plans.  Aiden would tell me how he thought of them as his little brothers.  He would bring home writing assignments from school that were written about them.

The last night we spent together, I knew something was off.  Something didn't feel right, but I didn't want to be the overly paranoid girlfriend and say anything about it.  Unknown to him, until now, but I cried myself to sleep that night.  I listened to him get ready for work the next morning, pretending to be asleep.  I rolled over and kissed him goodbye when he was leaving, and I knew something had changed.  Even now, I don't even know what that something was.  I was suddenly not enough.

Someone never saying "I love you" to you is one thing.  To have them say "I don't love you." is so much more heartbreaking than never hearing the words could ever be. 

So here I am, sad and mad and frustrated and coping.  My last three relationships have ended, suddenly, and without my consent.  When did things in any relationships stop being about compromise?  That's what you do when you're with someone, you talk to them, you bounce ideas off of them, you tell them where they stand.  This is something that is endlessly confusing to me, especially because in each of these cases, everything was good until suddenly it wasn't.

I am going about my days.  I am self-medicating with exercise and red beers.  I am trying to read books I've wanted to read, and I am no longer living out of a suit case.  I have since cleaned my apartment and I'm no longer living in a pile of clean or dirty clothes.  The bills are paid, the bellies are full, and we are going to be okay.

I miss my friend, desperately.  I miss sitting on my balcony texting him long before I had ever heard his voice.  I miss telling him stories and having him tell me stories.  I miss him telling me that he thinks I'm beautiful, even though I never believed him.  I hate feeling like I've just become another notch on his headboard, another number he can talk about while drinking with his friends, or when he meets someone new.

I hate that I put so much into this, and now it feels like my relationship had been reduced to a shoebox full of little things. 

Was I ever anything more than that?

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Everything will be better in the morning.

One of the many things my shrink and I agree on, is that I think too much.  I worry about things that I either a. cannot change, or b. have absolutely no power over the outcome.  The majority of the time this leaves me stressed out, depressed, or angry.  I know myself pretty well.  I am aware that I do and think these things, but a lot of the time I am not able to stop it.

I feel myself becoming the crazy person, the person who jumps to conclusions, the person who snaps out of anger at the smallest of things, but I can't stop myself from doing it.  I see it as it happens, outside of myself.  In my head I'm screaming "WHY ARE YOU REACTING THIS WAY!" but there is not or very little that I am able to do to stop it.

Some days I feel completely swallowed alive by my life.  If it's not one thing, it's another.  Boy scout meetings, and library days, and paying the bills, and doing the shopping, and cleaning the apartment, and cooking dinner, and making sure that the doors are locked at night, and putting gas in the car, and singing bedtime songs, and reading bedtime books, and saying "I love you."  I know that some people have it so much harder.  I know that there are people who work longer hours, who have more children and less support, who are not nearly as blessed as I am to have parents who are willing to step in and take my son for an hour or two when I simply need some quiet.  This afternoon I sat on the couch for half an hour, doing absolutely nothing but sitting there, with my iPod playing.  I needed that.  But then it was back to reality, back to the worry of trying to get it all done, doing it all right, loving all of the right people and hoping that they're loving me back.

I have once again sacrificed some things that I love in order to have space to simply veg out, lay on the couch, go to bed half an hour early, talk on the phone with D.  I know what I need to do, I need to stop the worrying.

So, I've started looking into some ways to do that.  The one that I've become the most intrigued with is Buddhism.   I am not the religious type, which is why I was initially drawn into some reading about the teachings.  There is no divine being or presence or spirit.  It is simply about finding the peace and love and God within yourself.  Loving everyone, even if you don't like them, including yourself.  I LOVE that concept.  And for anyone who has been reading this blog for any length of time, you know that I've been practicing meditation on and off for a while, and this is one of the central concepts in getting to know yourself better, loving yourself more.

Am I devoting my entire existence to the Four Noble Truths or the Eight-Fold path?  No.  I am going to attempt to take some of the things I've read about, and put them into practice in my own life.  Patience.  Love.  Trust.  Acceptance. 

I have also decided to make some plaques, following a little (or hell, a lot) in the design that my sister has hanging in her house with little reminders on life.  "love deeply, live passionately, laugh uncontrollably, kiss slowly..."  that sort of thing.  They were beautiful and really inspired me, and they are small enough projects in themselves that I should be able to do them little by little while gradually making up the entire thing.  I think I'll scatter them around my living quarters.

All I know is that somethings needs to change.  I need to stop hating myself the majority of the time, and this is what I've come up with so far to help me do that.  Enough guilt!  Turn the page.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

September Goals 2011

- go to the gym 15 times.

- lose 5 lbs.

- fold and put away the laundry within 24 hours of it being dry.  No more letting it sit in the dryer or laundry baskets for weeks at a time.

- clean out clothes from closet, donate or give away.

- keep an accurate food diary for 10+ days.

- say "I love you" more often, and mean it every time.

- buy/rent a yoga dvd, and try it out.

- do the 30 day shred once a week.

- start and finish two books.

- maintain.

August Goals - Review

First off, this month SUCKED.

- go to the gym 15 times.
FAIL.  I went 8.  However, in my defense, I also went on 10+ bike rides.

- lose 5 lbs.
FAIL!  I lost 1.  Then I regained it.

- follow for 9 days STRAIGHT the fat smash diet and exercise program.
Eh.  I did this for nine days.  Just not straight.  :(

-buy or rent a beginning yoga dvd and try to find out what all this hype is about.
FAIL.  didn't even think about it.

WIN!  This is actually one of the things I was able to do on a regular basis.  Helps with the biking too :)

- do Jillian Michael's 30 day shred TWICE this month.  Lower expectations and maybe I'll surprise myself.
WIN! on this one.  Gonna try to go back to once a week this next month.

- make and document at least one new meal a week.
Mostly WIN!  I documented three.
 #1 Vegetarian Pad Thai.  VERY Yummy!

#2 Chicken Enchilada Lasagna.  Eh.  I think I'll alter this recipe next time.  It calls for pasta sauce, but I think I'll use enchilada sauce next time.

#3 Veggie Stir Fry.  Very easy.  Very yummy.

- take Aiden back to school shopping.

WIN!  What a terrible mother I'd be if I hadn't!

- be more of a help than a hindrance in D's packing and moving.
I'm going to count this one as a WIN, but you'd have to ask him.  Felt like I didn't do as much as I could have the first day, but we got a LOT done.  AND I made a kick ass steak and potato dinner.

- allow myself to be comfortable in the silences. 
Tentative WIN!  This is getting easier.  More in the not jumping to conclusions in the silences.  Will continue to work on this one next month.  Not that there's anything wrong with talking!

Saturday, August 27, 2011

On Falling off the Wagon

I have my good days, and I have my bad days, but this week (probably more this entire month) I have completely fallen off the wagon.  What used to be a weekly ritual of going to the gym at least five days a week, has turned into one, or maybe two days.  What used to be a Sunday ritual of planning what I was going to eat for the following week, cooking brown rice and oatmeal, has turned into fly by my seat meal planning.  More eating out than I want, more guilt.  Entirely too much self-doubt. 

I'm glad I'm able to realize this early on, instead of letting it spiral out of control.  It's harder to keep track of my workouts when I'm not at the gym, especially when I don't write them down.  I've been biking, a lot, but it still doesn't feel like enough.  I still have 50+ pounds to go until I am where I want to be, where I have wanted to be for over a decade.

I am going to blame happiness.  The ever sought after thing, companionship.  Things with D are good.  They are SO good.  I am not trying to escape things like I once was, the gym being a way for me to do that.  Maybe I need to start looking at it as a way for me to escape these negative thoughts about myself.  I know I feel better when I exercise.  I know I feel better when I eat right, don't feel bloated and disgusting all of the time.  I know I feel better when I get on the scale every morning and the number has dropped, or remained the same. 

As a food addict, the giving up the greasy burgers, the french fries, the ice cream... that's the hard part.  Maybe not giving up, but eating in moderation.  Have you ever tried Weight Watchers?  Does it work?  Did it work?

I need someone to hold me accountable.  I also need to get my apartment back in order.  It is always very apparent to me my mental state when I look around and see the state of mess my apartment is in.  My mental state right now is "crazy and clinging to anything that will make me seem less so."

That being said, I am going to go shop. 

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

She wakes up lonely... (prose)

Depression.   Hard and fast and unrelenting.  Sometimes triggered by one thing or another, or an accumulation of certain things, sometimes there is no one real reason.  Triggers can be any number of things, though are usually self-inflicted self-doubts. 

Friends and loved ones can see it through frayed nerve endings that are exposed in quick tempers and emotional outbursts that are undeserved and at the same time, uncontrolled.

Not an "I want to die" kind of feeling, or even "I wish I could/would/should die".  More of a desire to crawl into a hole for the next twelve days.

Sleep either comes too often too soon, or not at all.  Appetite uncontrollable, or non-existent. 


Trying to find meaning in certain things that may not have a meaning or a reason or a purpose.  Refusing to properly punctuate my sentences forcing them into eye-bleed run-on's simply because that is how my mind is currently working.  Desire to consume vast amounts of chocolate, lay in a tub of ice, sink into sweet oblivion for only a short while. 

I could be writing in metaphors.  I could be speaking the truth.  .

My truths. 

Lack of motivation for anything, but still able to go about the motions, no one really being any wiser.  No one other than those who knew me when, or know me now, well enough to see my fragile splintered self for who I really am.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Fall asleep empty, wake much the same.  New dawn, sore and bleeding crimson and orange. 

I am not who I define myself as, I know there is so much more.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

An Ode to my Bicycle

I learned how to ride my bike in the first grade.  My best friend, Stephanie, who lived down the block from me learned at the same time.  We would ride all over together.  Around the block, to the park and back, and as we got older, we were allowed to venture further.

By fourth and fifth grade we were riding all the way to the public pool during the days to swim.  We would pack lunches and ride out on the Cottonmill trail (about three miles) and spend the day riding on the dirt trails of Old Father Prairie, or swimming in the toilet-bowl-blue watering hole.  When you are eleven years old, your bike is your freedom.

Around the age of 14, and my bike was no longer "cool".  I had friends who could drive, and I would not be seen around town peddling my little pink ten speed.  I didn't get on a bike again until last year.

I got a brand  new bike from my parents for my birthday.  I rode it a few times last summer, and then didn't touch it again until this spring when I rode it once from my parent's house to my apartment.  I had MEANT to, but had just never gotten around to it.  I was too busy walking, or jogging, and Aiden wasn't quite fluent enough to take riding on the streets.  So my bike sat, in the corner of my living room.  Until D walked into my life.

I have always loved to ride my bike, don't get me wrong, I just never really had the full opportunity to fall in love with it again in the way I loved it when I was younger.  Until now.  D and I have been riding on trails with our children numerous times, and I've slowly started to get my grove back.  I'm slowly losing the fear of crashing, getting my bike legs working, and my butt has become used to spending time on the seat.

Yesterday, I hopped on my bike and rode to the gym.  It was liberating.  It was freeing.  Today, I thought about doing the same thing, but instead decided to keep going.  I put my headphones on, turned my iPod up, and for an hour and a half I just rode.

Up hills, and down hills, and around bends and turns and curves.  I felt the wind on my face and at my back.  I coasted downhill at speeds I haven't reached outside of an automobile in close to a decade and a half.  I have visions of traveling to do biking races.  In building up my endurance for long distances.  In doing some dirt trails, and forest trails, and more and more hills.

I have heard people talk about finding their "thing".  I hear runners talk about the high they get after a really intense run.  I have heard people talk about how doing this one thing makes them happy, lets them be who they are; and it's still early, but I think I have found that.

Now what the hell am I going to do once it snows?

Monday, August 15, 2011

This one's to you and me, living out our dreams

Mother.  Daughter.  Sister.  Friend.  Writer. Cook.  Artist.  Hanson fan.

All of these titles I am comfortable with and within.  I have spent a large chunk of my life altering all of these categories and people who fit into them, in order to make my life make sense.

I am a mother to a wonderful little boy who I cannot imagine a day without, even on the days when he's driving me crazy.  I am a daughter to the two most amazing people on this planet.  They are the type of people who others aspire to be like, and I am honored to be their daughter, even on the days when I sense their disappointment.  I am a sister to my best friend.  She is another amazing person who inspires people.  Being a sister was something I wasn't really good at until I was older.  I am a very fierce friend.  My friends are my family, and that is why I choose to surround myself with these people.  I have had some very toxic friendships in the past, and this is the one part of my life that I have been able to shape and to mold, and along the way I have met and loved some amazing and unique people.  There is no rhyme or reason to my group of friends, other than they are all good people.  Wonderful people.

There is one title that I've never been able to grow accustomed to, or know where my place in it belongs.  Girlfriend.  I over think things, and I'm a worrier.  I've fallen in love with and lost too many times for my fragile little heart, and through all of that I've learned something about other people, but more important, I've managed to learn a lot about myself.  I now know the things I will not tolerate in a relationship, and the little pieces that seem to fit best with mine.

D will tell me to stop freaking out.  It is sometimes just what I need to hear.  To give me the reality check that I don't need to fix things that aren't broken, and I don't need to find something broken, because there sometimes isn't anything to find.  More times than not in the past few weeks I have had to shake my head at myself, tell myself to "stop it" and go about my life.

I am shell-shocked when it comes to love.

D is one of the most amazing men I've met in my life.  (and I know he'll be reading this, too.  *waves*)  He is easy to talk to, and he makes me happy.  It really is as simple as that.  Or to me it is.

So one of my goals for this month was "be comfortable in the silences".  I am working on it.  I fall asleep in strong arms, even breathing, light kisses, and I am full of the silence.

And it is beautiful.

So in becoming one with the silences, I have also been able to fall into the roll as Girlfriend.  It's not always easy for me, letting someone else drive the reigns some of the time, but it is fulfilling.  It makes me happy.  It makes me happy to make him happy.

We have been melding our little families together, and for the most part, we are functioning.  Four boys and me.  Dirt and water and smiles and screams of pure joy.  BBQ grilling and movie watching and bike riding.  Sweating and kissing and being.

Hello life.  Hello happiness.  Where the hell have you been?

Monday, August 8, 2011

Diary of a Fat Girl

Hi.  My name is Sadie and I'm a food addict.  It's not any real one food in particular, more like all of them.  I love to cook, and even more importantly, I love to eat.  I have always loved to eat.

I am not a vegetarian, or a fruitarian.  I do not keep a close eye on my sodium intake, and even though I've been trying to watch the amount of cholesterol I consume (bad cholesterol screening...) I still enjoy my eggs with their yolks, and cheese.  Never underestimate the healing power of cheese.  It's good on pretty much anything, or even by itself.  It's delicious when it is melted, or when it's in block form.

My comfort foods are macaroni and cheese (especially since I've perfected the perfect combination of other ingredients to stir in), chips and salsa, chocolate and peanut butter, and mashed potatoes.  There are not very many things that I WILL NOT eat, but there are a large number of things I prefer.

Over the last two years, I have managed to lose upwards of about 50 pounds by simply stepping up my activity level.  I didn't watch what I was putting into my body nearly as much as I made sure I was getting my heart rate elevated for an hour or more six or seven times a week.  I started eating more fruits and veggies, mainly because my body started craving them more.  (side note: getting healthy is EXPENSIVE.  getting fat is relatively cheap.)  I have about 45-50 more pounds that I want to lose, and over the last month or so I have been experimenting with several different types of "diets".

They pretty much translate into vegetarian diets with loads of whole oats/grains/nuts.  I lost about 5 pounds in a week when I was sticking to it a few weeks ago.  The hard part?  I have a seven year old.  He eats pretty well, but he wont eat the concoctions I've managed to come up with, with rice and beans and cooked veggies.  And I REALLY like macaroni and cheese.

I guess I just wanted to write this all down as a form of release, to forgive myself for eating that extra bowl of creamy noodley goodness for dinner tonight, to say out loud that this losing weight thing really sucks.

Quitting smoking over two years ago was easy compared to this.  I just had to not light the cigarette.  But this?  Time consuming, money hungry, royal pain in my ass.  When I quit smoking, it really helped to be able to say "I really want a cigarette.  Really.  Really."  and then be able to walk away from it.  I can't just say I want to eat, and then NOT eat.

Anyone want to come over and help me get all of the crap out of my cupboards and help me start over from scratch?

(I really, REALLY want some chocolate right now.)

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

August Goals 2011

- go to the gym 15 times.

- lose 5 lbs.

- follow for 9 days STRAIGHT the fat smash diet and exercise program.

-buy or rent a beginning yoga dvd and try to find out what all this hype is about.


- do Jillian Michael's 30 day shred TWICE this month.  Lower expectations and maybe I'll surprise myself.

- make and document at least one new meal a week.

- take Aiden back to school shopping.

- be more of a help than a hindrance in D's packing and moving.

- allow myself to be comfortable in the silences.

Monday, August 1, 2011

July Goals - Review

- go the gym 15 times.
I went 14 times.

- lose 5 lbs.
I lost 6.

- start and finish TWO books. 
Started and finished Catching Fire, started and am halfway through Mockingjay.

- go for evening walks at the track at least three days a week.
other than one week where it was over 110 degree heat index all week, I managed to do three times a week.  Last week I only did two.  I've been making time to visit my boyfriend and the one thing that could be cut without any real significant upheaval was the walking.

- do the 30 day shred once a week.
Monumental FAIL.  Didn't do this once.

- breathe deeply.
There have been a couple of rough patches where my patience has been tested, but I have managed to power through it.

- write, then throw away/save to a file on my computer some strongly worded letters to a few people in which I will NEVER send.  This is the important part.  NEVER SEND!
Wrote them in my journal, tore them out, tore them up, and threw them away.  Very therapeutic, and step one in trying to forgive the past.

- call my sister more often.
I am going to count this one as a win.  Didn't talk to her as often as I would have liked, but talked to her more than usual.

- try to cook one new thing each week, and document.
Half win.  I did manage to cook something new each week, but I didn't document. Food doesn't stay around me intact very often.
week 1: rice and black beans fried rice.
week 2: pesto chicken stuffed shells.
week 3: quinoa and black beans and tomatoes
week 4: Brazilian lemonade (which was REALLY good with some coconut rum mixed into it), and tortellini pasta salad.

I apologize for being late on goal posting this month, I'll hopefully get this month's goals up by tomorrow.


Saturday, July 30, 2011

Strong (old poetry)


I like to believe I am strong
not as weak as the exterior
wills me to be.
in my fantasy world,
I hold my own,
know where I am going,
where I have been.

the key is simplicity
and in my dream
is simple.
I don't hide behind
the pen.

The very same pen
that has brought me such joy,
as well as the continuous burden of sorrows.

not in the world where I am strong.
In this world,
there are no feelings to be
and I am no longer
the shape
I once was
hiding behind the letters.

I stand tall,
and proud. For once
I have all the answers,
for once I know
what it feels like to be
the true
me. And not
the one behind the ink.

No one knows this self I have become.

But did I
or have I always

So deep inside
I realize, no one knows
as I am
and how I push myself to be.
Not even me.

Once again
the dream is over
and I am behind the pen.

I am not strong,
I like to be pretend to be.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Can I hear you say "MICRO"?

For any of you that know me, or have known me for any length of time, it is pretty common knowledge that the job I had before the one I have now (secretary in Nutrition Services at the hospital) was the bane of my existence.  I spent over five years, clawing and scraping and trying to get out of there. 

I was passed up not once, but TWICE for full-time hours that should have been mine due to seniority, and TWICE I had to train the person who they gave the hours to instead of me.  I was suspended when I missed work because Aiden had pnemonia, and yes, I did have a doctor's note.  I interviewed for countless other positions inside of the hospital, some of them I was more than qualified for, and it wasn't until I got a phone call from my now-boss, after an interview I had with him, that he had received a poor rating from my current manager that I realized why I was being passed up for these other positions.

So I fought fire with fire, I started reporting my micro-managing bitch of a boss for every wrong step she took, every time she made another employee cry (which was a weekly occurrence) and every time she put a toe out of line in regards to our code of ethics.  For five years, I hated coming into work.  I loved my job, I loved my coworkers, but being told every single day what a piece of shit you are, how worthless you are, that you don't know your own job; that wears on a person.  But I FINALLY got out.  I was offered a position in Materials Management, and Nutrition was more than happy to get rid of me, that they pretty much let me go without having to put in my two weeks.

Then a year and a half of bliss.  I was trained in my job, I learned my job, I excelled at my job.  My work was done in a timely manner, I was able to actually look forward to coming into work in the morning.  I missed two days of work the first year that I was there, the first because Aiden had an ear infection, the second because I was throwing up and couldn't get out of bed.  I loved it.  I loved the freedom of having being given a task, allowed to complete that task without someone watching over me like a hawk, and then given feedback on that task.  I constantly went above and beyond.  I picked up overnight shifts, I picked up holidays, I actually laughed while I was at work.

Nine months ago, enter The 'Stache.  Normally facial hair doesn't bother me, but this man... there are no words.  I knew I didn't like him pretty much instantly.  Over the last nine months any additional tasks that were mine have been taken away.  My coworkers and I are being watched every step we take, and ordered around by a man who has no idea how to do my job.  Today, he proceeded to approach me about adding some new product to the ICU, but came to me each time with only half of the information I needed, and still expected me to be able to do my job.  When I offered a solution, I was shot down.  My voice is no longer heard, and it no longer matters.

I know I'm not the only one in my department with these issues.  We have employees that get away with doing little to nothing every day in the hopes that if they don't do it, someone else will, and we usually do.  The more I do, the more I am then expected to do, but I'm not allowed to do it on my own, oh NO!  I have to do it under the ever watchful eye of The 'Stache.  Being told every step of the way that what I'm doing isn't right, this is how it needs to be done BECAUSE HE SAID SO.

I am at my wits end.  I have gone to my director, who has done little to remedy the situation, and I think that my next step is going to be up a notch in the ladder of hierarchy.  I hate that it has come to this.

I hate that my voice suddenly, once again, doesn't matter.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Have I found you, flightless bird?

I talked a couple of weeks ago about how hard dating is.  What I failed to understand at the time was that when someone truly special comes around, it's not.  It comes easily, like breathing.

I don't know what either of us had in mind when we started talking over six months ago, but I don't think it was ever initially thought to be anything more than an internet friendship, getting to know each other, and enjoying the other enough to continue with conversations over the weeks and months.

He was patient with me while my heart healed, I extended the same.  It wasn't until we started text messaging each other more frequently, seeking each other out through space on purpose rather than simply stumbling into each other.  The first night when he actually called me rather than shooting me a text, and I knew this could actually become something more.  We talked for over an hour.

He has allowed me to find myself and my happiness within by simply being there.  A shoulder to lean on, a sounding board to bounce ideas off of, someone to laugh with.  He GETS me in a way that not a lot of other people can, or have ever made the effort to.

He gives me goosebumps just from the simple act of tucking my hair behind my ear.  His gentleness endearing.   He'll stand behind me in the kitchen, kissing the base of my neck as I am cutting up chicken, or pouring myself a drink.  When I look into his eyes, I see myself as he sees me, and it's something new and fresh.  It makes me feel alive.

He is well traveled, has been places and done things.  He has loved intensely and lost, which doesn't seem like something to celebrate, but there are so many people in this world who haven't.  He is easy to talk to, quick to laugh, and above all else completely and utterly real.  This is how I see him, and how I want him to know I see him.

Living an hour apart so far isn't easy, but it's a lot easier than I thought it would be.  We both have busy lives and schedules and jobs, both of us single parents.

But I know that he's thinking of me when he wakes up in the morning, and for right now, that's really all I need.

Monday, July 11, 2011


I've never done this before, but I wanted to pass this on, as it's too good not to.

Date a Girl who Reads

Friday, July 8, 2011

I was nineteen...

When I was nineteen, there was a man.  I knew he was not THE man, but just a man.  He made me laugh as I was doing my homework late at night at one of the booths in the restaurant we both worked in.  He told me dirty jokes, and did magic tricks with paper napkins, and he created a little niche in my heart where I would allow him to reside.

When my roommate and I had arguments, this man would invite me over to his place to spend the night.  We would curl up next to each other in his big bed, fully clothed.  Watch television.  Talk.  He told me that he cared too much about me to just have sex with me.  So we didn't. 

This man and I would talk about our dreams.  We would share secrets that I had never shared with anyone before.  I wrote poems about him, and hid my face embarrassed when I would give them to him to read.  My sweet, dark eyed man.  We kept our friendship mostly a secret.  Not on purpose, but I felt that if everyone knew about it, it would somehow become less real. 

When I was nineteen, there was a man.  I knew he wasn't THE man, but I cared enough about him to let him live in a little place in my heart where I would dream about him.  This man would occasionally disappear. 

He would stop answering phone calls, not answer his door, and for a month or two at a time completely forget that I even existed.  I would see him out around town, and I would be invisible to him.  Then a few weeks or months after being invisible, he would show up completely out of the blue at my apartment door at ten o'clock at night begging me to forgive him.  Crying in my arms about some atrocity that had befallen him, and I held him and pulled him into my bed, and let him lay there until he could breathe again.

There was a man, when I was nineteen, who I would run to any time he called.  He would disappear without a word, and resurface later, only after the little hole in my heart had time to heal up and become one piece again without him.

March 8th, he called me.  I only remember this date because I have kept such good journal records that I am able to look back and know with certainty that was the day.  I drove an hour north, and we took up residence in a little camper.  I was nineteen.

He bought beer, and we drank into all hours of the night.  He was kind, and funny, and gentle.  Even though I hadn't seen him the two months previous, I forgave him for all of that.  I trusted his words and his intentions, when I was nineteen.

Nine months later, and I held my crying son for the first time.  He looked up at me with those sweet, dark eyes.

When I was nineteen, there was a man.  He was not THE man.

He gave me the little boy who will someday become a man, so much better than his father.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Beautiful Boy

Being a mom is hard.  It's not glamorous in the least.  For the first two years you get puked on, and pooped on, and you barely have time to even take a shower, let alone do anything with your hair.  You grow your hair out just so that you can pull it back into a ponytail and forget about it.  Tack onto that the fact that I've been a single mother from the first day of my son's life, up until now, when he's closer to 8 than 7,  AND that he was born with bilateral clubfoot and that up until the age of 4 was either in casts or braces, and you have got a WHOLE LOT of non-glamorous moments.

I will never claim to be the perfect mother.  I know I'm not.  I yell too much.  I let him sit in front of the TV more than I know he should.  I expect too much, and have a lot of rules and behaviors which are non-negotiable.  I work too much, cook too little, and let him eat WAY too many chicken nuggets.

Through all of this, he is still the highlight of my life.  My most amazing accomplishment that was never planned.  So, here's something a little fun that I thought up...

The most important things that I have learned from my 7 year old.

Bugs are cool.  Especially if they are dead.

Brushing your teeth is way more fun when you're allowed to do it in front of the television.

Any sort of rumbling, or squeaking sound made in the grocery store is automatically assumed to be a fart, and mom it has come from you.  And it has to be announced very loudly.

There is no color, in the history of colors, nor will there ever be a color, that is cooler than the color RED.  Because blood is red, and blood is cool.

When you die, the best animal to be reincarnated as would be the American Badger.

River monsters.  End of sentence.

Watermelon candy is delicious.

Poisonous bugs/snakes/fish/animals that are native to other continents and possibly other periods of time, can still get us. No, I'm serious.  They can.

You can go to eat at one of the best restaurants in town, and STILL only eat macaroni and cheese.  For $7.50.

Onions and pickles are gross.  Broccoli and bananas are delicious.  And candy.  Candy is delicious.

Topics such as money and weight are not forbidden conversation.

Elmo is for babies.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

like a fool for fire...

I am a good person.  I wear my heart on my sleeve.  As a good friend once put it, my opinions and beliefs are kind, yet firmly non-negotiable.  I tend to give people second, third, even forth chances when they really do not deserve it.  I want to hold onto the people in my life, no matter what their purpose there, because losing someone for something silly is not an option for me.

What does this usually get me?  Heartache.

I have developed a very tight-knit group of friends who are my entire world, and there are days where I don't know what I would do without them.  "Sometimes family are the ones you choose."  I also have a knack for collecting assholes.

I freely admit that this is my own fault, and other than really fattening ice cream or melty cheese on corn chips, it's my only real weakness.  My own opinion of myself is so low (and this is through years of being told I wasn't good enough, that I needed to be better. Years of being made fun of for things I really had no control over) that any attention seems like good attention, even if it's the exact opposite.

I AM a strong woman, and I know better than this.  So why do I continue to go around in this vicious circle?  I can't become the player because I've been played too much.  I can't wear my heart on my sleeve because it gets stomped on time and time again.  I can't shut people out completely because then I get told that LOVE isn't a reality for me.  I am so afraid that if I don't take what I can get, that eventually I'll realize that I have nothing at all.

This is me, writing it down, putting it out there in the world for other people to see.  My flaws.  This is me promising to try to change it.  I have the right to be picky about the people I bring into my life.  I have the right to be who I am, whether it's open and fun loving, or closed off and brooding.  I am me.  I shouldn't have to apologize or change that, for ANYONE.

But then I am back to the question, if I am a good person, why hasn't someone else figured that out by now?