On April 28, 2018, I ran the biggest and longest race of my life: the Kentucky Derby Festival Mini Marathon. About a year ago, I started my journey as a runner. Often times, I think the term "journey" is overused in the context of health and fitness, but after all this time, there is really no other better descriptor of the process. Pursuing a quest to become the best version of yourself is nothing short of an epic adventure; not only because of the physical changes, but also the mental, emotional, and even spiritual changes that take place.
Starting something new is scary...always. When I tell someone I'm a runner, 100% of the time, before I can even finish my sentence, they say, "I can't run, " or "I hate running," or "The only time I run is if I'm being chased." Every single one of those replies is a deflection from the REAL reason they don't run, too. They are afraid. Afraid of pain, afraid of the challenge, afraid of judgment, afraid of lack of mastery.....whatever the "it" is, they're afraid of it. About 90% of the time, I hear, "I tried it and I can't do it." Listen, I've been on the flip side, and I've cut somebody off to adamantly tell them I don't run and never will. But, guess what? I changed. How many things have you tried that you did perfectly on the first try? Learning something new takes effort....vulnerability....time. You need all of that so that you can see and appreciate your progress.
Over the past few years, I've tried a plethora of healthy lifestyles. I've experimented with many versions of healthy eating and various exercise plans, and I even became that person who thought her way was the best way, period. Through running, I have realized that life is really, truly about balance. It's about balancing all of the imbalances we see, feel, hear, and experience. It's about balancing all of the giving and the taking. It's about balancing the good with the bad. It's about balancing the challenges with the recovery periods.
Many of you saw my yoga headstand all those months ago; but let me tell you, that was minor compared to the accomplishment I felt running 13.1 miles. Just the other day, my life coach pointed out that I live a life where I feel the need to constantly improve. I have thought about that, and really pondered on the reason why I am that way. I always set high standards for myself - that's been the case since I was a kid. I am a bit of a smarty pants, so the need for challenges is inherent for me.
Although I am certain I will receive pushback for my next comment, I'm going to say it anyway. Many other types of fitness activities cap at a certain level of mastery then after that, you move into maintenance mode. Once you master a yoga pose, it's mastered. Once you learn choreographed dance fitness, you know it. Once you figure out all of those weights at the gym, there's nothing else about them to figure out. After all of that learning, you go into maintenance, and you can really only add more weight or more reps or more breaths. The thing with running is that there is always something you can improve upon, always a new challenge: speed, distance, nutrition, skill, endurance...you get the picture. There are also so many races all over the world - those experiences alone keep the running world exciting and new. Running is also one sport where you can be an individual and a team member at the same time. It is a very unique experience in that way.
The running community is one of the best parts about all of this. I have met some incredible people in this chapter of my life. There is always encouragement, support, advice, empathy, compassion, and the occasional swift kick in the ass when we need it. We are all just people going through this crazy life, trying to run to stay a little bit sane. That's it. There's nothing to be scared of.
Monday, April 30, 2018
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Me, Too
This might be hard to read. It will not be terribly easy to write.
I've been following the case of Dr. Larry Nassar, the former Sports Medicine doctor at Michigan State University. He's the doctor who was accused of sexually abusing hundreds of female athletes at the university, who has already been sentenced to 60 years in prison for Federal Child Pornography charges, who has pled guilty to the sexual abuse of 7 girls/women. There are accusations of protection up the chain, from Nassar's colleagues, to the Athletic Director, to the President of the university. The survivors testified in their impact statements that he was reported, yet nothing was done. According to one girl, "we must have been confused." That was one of the responses to the original reports years ago. This doctor was sneaky, conniving, manipulative, devious...you name it. Even the judge said she couldn't say any more words to describe him.
He abused these girls with their parents in the exam room. Now, just think about what kind of person it takes to be that bold. To take that kind of risk. To have to be so perfect in his evil that he remained undetected, for all of those instances, even with other adults in the room. It's so incredibly sickening.
Today, after over 160 victim impact statements had been read over the past week, after hours upon hours upon hours of confrontation, liberation, tears, healing, anger, and old wounds reopened, the judge sentenced Dr. Larry Nassar to up to 175 years in prison. This is in addition to the 60 years he is already serving. He will never see the light of day, ever again, in his pathetic feeble existence.
I believe this case is truly a precedent. We are finally on our way to end this fight that women perpetually fight on a daily basis. We are not objects that belong to men. We are not avenues of control for you to travel down. We are not your toys, we are not your dolls, we are not anything of yours. We belong to ourselves.
I fought my own fight about 10 years ago (give or take,) during my first marriage (not to Phil.) I have never, ever published my story in any kind of public setting. I've held on to it for all this time, only telling the necessary people, so that I could feel some reprieve from the pressure on my heart.
I was violated. My husband at the time's grandfather put his hands on me. See, I never knew any of my biological grandparents. This was the closest to a grandfather figure that I ever had, and he screwed it up.
I will never forget what I was wearing: a t-shirt I got from a Billy Joel concert, a jacket, and jeans. It was a nice spring day, and it was just him and me in the living room, just having a normal conversation. I think at one point, he had asked for a hug, because I got up, and went to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was sitting in the recliner, so as I leaned over to hug him, I felt a pinch on my nipple. In all honesty, I didn't think much of it; I have always been chesty, so this could have been an instance of bad aim, or whatever. After I kissed him on the cheek, he held his embrace on me, and said, "Come on, now, give me a REAL kiss" and tried to stick his tongue down my throat. I IMMEDIATELY rose up, took a step backward, and said, "What?!" Then just like that, he stood up, walked toward me, put one hand up my shirt while the other one tried to go down my pants. I was absolutely horrified and pushed him off of me and again, said, "What are you DOING?!" I can't remember his exact response, but it was some stupid excuse about just wanting a hug or something. Right after that, he handed me a crisply-folded $100 bill and said, "I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you." I now realized that the pinch on my breast was not bad aim. That was the dirtiest, filthiest money I have ever touched in my whole entire life. I walked away, with the money in my pocket, because I couldn't do anything else with it. I immediately buttoned my jacket. I looked ridiculous, but I just needed to be covered up. I had to hide myself as much as I could.
A short time later, he was leaving, and asked me if I was okay. Still in shock and disbelief, I just gave quick nod, because other people were in the house by that time, so I couldn't let on that anything had happened.
The next day, I woke up so, so sad, and lost, with a veil of uncertainty covering my eyes. The only thing I could think to do was to grab my Bible, and take it with me to work that day. I still don't know why I was compelled to do that, but I did. It made me feel better, but I knew that wouldn't solve the problem. I decided to confide in my Mother-in-Law at the time and ask her advice. I told her the story, and even though I was visibly shaken and upset, her response was so unbelievable, that I still can't fathom it. She said, "Keep the money and enjoy it." KEEP. THE. MONEY. AND. ENJOY. IT.
I decided that Bryan needed to know, as well. So, when I got home, I sat him down, and told him everything that happened. He didn't believe me. My own freaking husband didn't believe me when I told him that his grandfather had put his hands on me. It wasn't until I pulled out the $100 bill and threw it at him that he opened his eyes. But, it didn't stop there. He instantly reacted with, "Well, just don't tell anyone, because they won't believe you, anyway. My granny definitely won't believe you, and you can't ruin his reputation in church by letting this get out."
Now, is it becoming clear why assaulted women don't speak up? Because the victims become the criminals. Because the victims are ostracized and scrutinized and made to feel at fault. Because they are ashamed and embarrassed because of how people will perceive and treat them. Because "oh, they (the abuser) would never do that." Because nobody believes us, because we "must be confused" or "we misunderstood" or "it was an accident" or "we didn't say 'no'" or whatever. SILENCE IS NOT A "YES."
You know, there is so much to say, but nothing else to say about this. After hearing other stories of abuse against my friends, and after hearing some segments of Dr. Nassar's victims' impact statements, and hearing about what they endured, I originally thought that the gravity of my incident was not nearly as severe as the others. In my mind, I could have suffered worse. But then I realized that abuse is abuse. Inaction is enabling. One of the women who delivered an impact statement said, "What good does it do to teach our children to tell an adult when that adult does nothing?"
I hope and pray that the young girls in my life never, ever have to endure anything like this at all. I also hope and pray that any girls or women who have endured something like this find the courage and strength to speak up and take the control of their lives back. Ladies, speak up. Take action. You are not alone.
I've been following the case of Dr. Larry Nassar, the former Sports Medicine doctor at Michigan State University. He's the doctor who was accused of sexually abusing hundreds of female athletes at the university, who has already been sentenced to 60 years in prison for Federal Child Pornography charges, who has pled guilty to the sexual abuse of 7 girls/women. There are accusations of protection up the chain, from Nassar's colleagues, to the Athletic Director, to the President of the university. The survivors testified in their impact statements that he was reported, yet nothing was done. According to one girl, "we must have been confused." That was one of the responses to the original reports years ago. This doctor was sneaky, conniving, manipulative, devious...you name it. Even the judge said she couldn't say any more words to describe him.
He abused these girls with their parents in the exam room. Now, just think about what kind of person it takes to be that bold. To take that kind of risk. To have to be so perfect in his evil that he remained undetected, for all of those instances, even with other adults in the room. It's so incredibly sickening.
Today, after over 160 victim impact statements had been read over the past week, after hours upon hours upon hours of confrontation, liberation, tears, healing, anger, and old wounds reopened, the judge sentenced Dr. Larry Nassar to up to 175 years in prison. This is in addition to the 60 years he is already serving. He will never see the light of day, ever again, in his pathetic feeble existence.
I believe this case is truly a precedent. We are finally on our way to end this fight that women perpetually fight on a daily basis. We are not objects that belong to men. We are not avenues of control for you to travel down. We are not your toys, we are not your dolls, we are not anything of yours. We belong to ourselves.
I fought my own fight about 10 years ago (give or take,) during my first marriage (not to Phil.) I have never, ever published my story in any kind of public setting. I've held on to it for all this time, only telling the necessary people, so that I could feel some reprieve from the pressure on my heart.
I was violated. My husband at the time's grandfather put his hands on me. See, I never knew any of my biological grandparents. This was the closest to a grandfather figure that I ever had, and he screwed it up.
I will never forget what I was wearing: a t-shirt I got from a Billy Joel concert, a jacket, and jeans. It was a nice spring day, and it was just him and me in the living room, just having a normal conversation. I think at one point, he had asked for a hug, because I got up, and went to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was sitting in the recliner, so as I leaned over to hug him, I felt a pinch on my nipple. In all honesty, I didn't think much of it; I have always been chesty, so this could have been an instance of bad aim, or whatever. After I kissed him on the cheek, he held his embrace on me, and said, "Come on, now, give me a REAL kiss" and tried to stick his tongue down my throat. I IMMEDIATELY rose up, took a step backward, and said, "What?!" Then just like that, he stood up, walked toward me, put one hand up my shirt while the other one tried to go down my pants. I was absolutely horrified and pushed him off of me and again, said, "What are you DOING?!" I can't remember his exact response, but it was some stupid excuse about just wanting a hug or something. Right after that, he handed me a crisply-folded $100 bill and said, "I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you." I now realized that the pinch on my breast was not bad aim. That was the dirtiest, filthiest money I have ever touched in my whole entire life. I walked away, with the money in my pocket, because I couldn't do anything else with it. I immediately buttoned my jacket. I looked ridiculous, but I just needed to be covered up. I had to hide myself as much as I could.
A short time later, he was leaving, and asked me if I was okay. Still in shock and disbelief, I just gave quick nod, because other people were in the house by that time, so I couldn't let on that anything had happened.
The next day, I woke up so, so sad, and lost, with a veil of uncertainty covering my eyes. The only thing I could think to do was to grab my Bible, and take it with me to work that day. I still don't know why I was compelled to do that, but I did. It made me feel better, but I knew that wouldn't solve the problem. I decided to confide in my Mother-in-Law at the time and ask her advice. I told her the story, and even though I was visibly shaken and upset, her response was so unbelievable, that I still can't fathom it. She said, "Keep the money and enjoy it." KEEP. THE. MONEY. AND. ENJOY. IT.
I decided that Bryan needed to know, as well. So, when I got home, I sat him down, and told him everything that happened. He didn't believe me. My own freaking husband didn't believe me when I told him that his grandfather had put his hands on me. It wasn't until I pulled out the $100 bill and threw it at him that he opened his eyes. But, it didn't stop there. He instantly reacted with, "Well, just don't tell anyone, because they won't believe you, anyway. My granny definitely won't believe you, and you can't ruin his reputation in church by letting this get out."
Now, is it becoming clear why assaulted women don't speak up? Because the victims become the criminals. Because the victims are ostracized and scrutinized and made to feel at fault. Because they are ashamed and embarrassed because of how people will perceive and treat them. Because "oh, they (the abuser) would never do that." Because nobody believes us, because we "must be confused" or "we misunderstood" or "it was an accident" or "we didn't say 'no'" or whatever. SILENCE IS NOT A "YES."
You know, there is so much to say, but nothing else to say about this. After hearing other stories of abuse against my friends, and after hearing some segments of Dr. Nassar's victims' impact statements, and hearing about what they endured, I originally thought that the gravity of my incident was not nearly as severe as the others. In my mind, I could have suffered worse. But then I realized that abuse is abuse. Inaction is enabling. One of the women who delivered an impact statement said, "What good does it do to teach our children to tell an adult when that adult does nothing?"
I hope and pray that the young girls in my life never, ever have to endure anything like this at all. I also hope and pray that any girls or women who have endured something like this find the courage and strength to speak up and take the control of their lives back. Ladies, speak up. Take action. You are not alone.
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Why is Aunt Flo So Mean?
Here I am, getting ready to start some homework, waiting for Phil to get home, listening to the dogs whine and pine for me to move to the couch from the recliner, watching Judge Judy, sippin' on ACV & juice, thinking of some good thoughts to share with you good people.
Listen, running, or working out in general, whilst on your period is hard work. Sorry, fellas. But it is. Your body consumes all of your energy and channels it to power a tiny organ with two antennae, wreaking havoc on your lower abdominals. We are tired, we are constantly starving, we are bloated, and we are grumpy. I was supposed to run 3 miles today. HAHAHAHAHAHAA yeah right. I only made it for 2.5. You know what I ate today? For breakfast, did I have that awesome Dannon 000 Black Cherry yogurt? Nope. I had a doughnut with my coffee. For lunch, did I have that beautiful vegetable soup (which is DELICIOUS, by the way) and honey cornbread that I took to work? Nooooope. My uterus wanted Chick-Fil-A. So I got an 8-count nugget meal, with a large fry, and a large sweet tea (which was mostly ice, but whatever.) But wait, there's more...I have a cow calendar, and the treat for the month is an 8-count nugget. So guess what I got? MY FREE TREAT, DUH. Guess who was hungry - AGAIN - at 2:00? Yep, you guessed it. My uterus. Lucky for me, I had snacks in the fridge at work, so I ate some cheese. When I got home at 4:30, my stomach was growling again. GEEZ, UTERUS, WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?! I ate a pickle for an electrolyte boost, I doused myself in some Clarity oil because I needed to get my head on straight, and I took off for my run.
I actually crossed paths with a couple other runners because this massive heat wave is bringing us all outside! Yay! There's one lady I see frequently, and she has a white fuzzy dog (a miniature poodle, I think.) Every time I see her, I wave and smile, because I'm friendly like that, and she ALWAYS makes some weird comment from the perspective of her dog. Something like, "oh, I just like to say hi to everyone I see." Or "I just assume people who walk by me always want to pet me and play with me." Where's that eyeroll emoji when you need it? Come on, lady, can't you see I'm busy? Sure, I love dogs, but I'M BUSY. I work hard to run continuously, because it's hard to run continuously, and I don't want to stop and pet your dog. I have a schedule to keep. Sorry. (Not sorry.) But, sorry.
There are some characters in the surrounding neighborhood - engaging in what I'm sure are completely wholesome, pure, and legal activities. They just like to hang out with their friends, amirite? Don't worry, folks, I won't tell anybody you were congregating and whispering outside, glaring at me while I was struggling to walk up the massive hill you were at the top of, and you stopped talking the second I reached you, and one of you moved toward the house, and the old man in the truck watched to make sure I didn't look like I knew you were acting suspiciously. IT'S ALL GOOD, I PROMISE. Your secret is safe with me. A-okay?
Awesome, so, aunt flo is mean. I'm resetting myself with a really awesome ACV drink - tea, ACV, ginger, stevia, and Bai. Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmm. And I'll probably be having steamed broccoli and air for dinner because, you know, nuggets.
Also, one more random thought. I rented my textbooks from Chegg this time, and they sent me some free samples of stuff, which is cool, right? One of the samples is a container of those new Quaker Overnight Oats. Really cool, right? I read the directions on how to make them, and it says to eat them cold. HUH? Who eats cold oatmeal?
Okay, cool. See ya.
Listen, running, or working out in general, whilst on your period is hard work. Sorry, fellas. But it is. Your body consumes all of your energy and channels it to power a tiny organ with two antennae, wreaking havoc on your lower abdominals. We are tired, we are constantly starving, we are bloated, and we are grumpy. I was supposed to run 3 miles today. HAHAHAHAHAHAA yeah right. I only made it for 2.5. You know what I ate today? For breakfast, did I have that awesome Dannon 000 Black Cherry yogurt? Nope. I had a doughnut with my coffee. For lunch, did I have that beautiful vegetable soup (which is DELICIOUS, by the way) and honey cornbread that I took to work? Nooooope. My uterus wanted Chick-Fil-A. So I got an 8-count nugget meal, with a large fry, and a large sweet tea (which was mostly ice, but whatever.) But wait, there's more...I have a cow calendar, and the treat for the month is an 8-count nugget. So guess what I got? MY FREE TREAT, DUH. Guess who was hungry - AGAIN - at 2:00? Yep, you guessed it. My uterus. Lucky for me, I had snacks in the fridge at work, so I ate some cheese. When I got home at 4:30, my stomach was growling again. GEEZ, UTERUS, WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?! I ate a pickle for an electrolyte boost, I doused myself in some Clarity oil because I needed to get my head on straight, and I took off for my run.
I actually crossed paths with a couple other runners because this massive heat wave is bringing us all outside! Yay! There's one lady I see frequently, and she has a white fuzzy dog (a miniature poodle, I think.) Every time I see her, I wave and smile, because I'm friendly like that, and she ALWAYS makes some weird comment from the perspective of her dog. Something like, "oh, I just like to say hi to everyone I see." Or "I just assume people who walk by me always want to pet me and play with me." Where's that eyeroll emoji when you need it? Come on, lady, can't you see I'm busy? Sure, I love dogs, but I'M BUSY. I work hard to run continuously, because it's hard to run continuously, and I don't want to stop and pet your dog. I have a schedule to keep. Sorry. (Not sorry.) But, sorry.
There are some characters in the surrounding neighborhood - engaging in what I'm sure are completely wholesome, pure, and legal activities. They just like to hang out with their friends, amirite? Don't worry, folks, I won't tell anybody you were congregating and whispering outside, glaring at me while I was struggling to walk up the massive hill you were at the top of, and you stopped talking the second I reached you, and one of you moved toward the house, and the old man in the truck watched to make sure I didn't look like I knew you were acting suspiciously. IT'S ALL GOOD, I PROMISE. Your secret is safe with me. A-okay?
Awesome, so, aunt flo is mean. I'm resetting myself with a really awesome ACV drink - tea, ACV, ginger, stevia, and Bai. Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmm. And I'll probably be having steamed broccoli and air for dinner because, you know, nuggets.
Also, one more random thought. I rented my textbooks from Chegg this time, and they sent me some free samples of stuff, which is cool, right? One of the samples is a container of those new Quaker Overnight Oats. Really cool, right? I read the directions on how to make them, and it says to eat them cold. HUH? Who eats cold oatmeal?
Okay, cool. See ya.
Friday, December 29, 2017
New Year, Same Old Me
Alright, so I'm a liar. I never finished my review of the 98 Degrees Christmas concert, and here it is, a million days later, and I've left you hanging. Well, to offer you some reprieve, here is how far I got before I never finished:
I haven't had a chance to write about the 98 Degrees Christmas Concert. It was at the Palace, so I expected a nice, sophisticated, intimate concert. Um, nope. People were all sorts of crazy - Christmas garb, big wrapping bows on their heads, Christmas footie pajamas, ugly sweaters, tinsel, big posters and signs...it was definitely a boy band atmosphere.
The guys looked awesome and started the concert wearing slacks and these cool velvet blazers. Tres chic. (Sorry, I don't know how to make the French accent mark on a computer.) They opened with some pop Christmas cover songs, and segued to "Because of You." Um, we LOST. OUR. MINDS. Seriously, lost it. Like, I forgot I was at the Palace for a second.
Blah blah they sing more...they went to "O Holy Night," and that was AWESOME, but the loud drunk people behind us would not shut up. It was so dang annoying. Listen, I'm no saint, and I've had a few nights of too many libations, but why would you pay all that money for a concert just to get drunk and ruin the experience?
Anyway...the guys did their typical boy band stuff. They stepped in rhythm, swirling and twirling around their microphones, pointing to the big spenders in the front row, and danced in synchronicity. I think mom said it was "deliberately corny," which was perfectly accurate. They didn't take themselves too seriously, and it was FANTASTIC.
Does that help? I actually did take notes on my phone during the entire concert, in an effort to remember everything worth noting so I could indulge you with vibrant imagery and make you wish you had been there. I will say that the next time I go to a concert at the Palace, I will either pay the big bucks to sit in the front row, or spend as little as possible to get a seat in the balcony, just so I can see everything that's going on.
Alright, kids, how was your holiday season, aka Christmas? Mine was pretty good, other than that demonic spawn known as Flu type A having inhabited my body for nearly 3 weeks. Well, I didn't KNOW it was the flu until I went to Immediate Care on the 26th. It probably wasn't the flu the whole time. But maybe. Who knows. I never had a fever, aches, or chills. Ever. But, the point is I'm like, 87% better today. I can't wait to get back to running and stuff...I have a schedule to keep, you know. I paid that hefty race fee, so I need to stay on top of this thing called training.
I guess it's only appropriate that I throw in a few words about 2018 and reflection and yadda yadda. You know what? 2017 was awesome for some of you, and it was not-so-awesome for some of you. I think there was a good mix of good and bad for us, but it's always nice to have the feeling of impending hope from something new coming up.
I hate the term "resolution," because it has such a connotation of constraint. You already know when you set your New Year's Resolutions that you will break them, and you're just playing a game with yourself. It's really an exhausting waste of time. I'm a fan of being in the present. January 1st does not have to mean that you have to begin something unrealistically new for yourself, just for the sake of it being January 1st. Today is December 29th. If you decide you want to swap your candy addiction for fruit, then walk to your kitchen, and all of your hiding places, throw out your candy, and go to the store to buy fruit. Walmart is open 24 hours. So is Kroger. So is Meijer. If you want to start journaling, go right now and find an empty notebook (you know you have 100 of them), and start journaling. Or go to a free blogging site and sign up for a free blank blog. If you need a topic, go to Pinterest and search "topics for journaling." You'll get about 1,000 to pick from, I swear. If you want to learn how to work out, then set your alarm for 8:00 tomorrow morning, because it's a Saturday, and go somewhere to learn how to workout. Phone a friend. It's much more fun with a friend.
If you want to start doing something, then start doing it when you decide you want to start doing it. Don't wait for the excuse of putting up a new calendar. I read a great quote a few weeks ago that said something like this: You don't need motivation, you need discipline. Motivation is just the wanting. Discipline is the doing. Need help figuring out how to start whatever it is you want to start? CALL ME. Message me. Text me. I don't care. I'll help you.
2018 will be here in just over 48 hours. You don't have to flip your life upside down for it. Just never stop trying to be better.
I haven't had a chance to write about the 98 Degrees Christmas Concert. It was at the Palace, so I expected a nice, sophisticated, intimate concert. Um, nope. People were all sorts of crazy - Christmas garb, big wrapping bows on their heads, Christmas footie pajamas, ugly sweaters, tinsel, big posters and signs...it was definitely a boy band atmosphere.
The guys looked awesome and started the concert wearing slacks and these cool velvet blazers. Tres chic. (Sorry, I don't know how to make the French accent mark on a computer.) They opened with some pop Christmas cover songs, and segued to "Because of You." Um, we LOST. OUR. MINDS. Seriously, lost it. Like, I forgot I was at the Palace for a second.
Blah blah they sing more...they went to "O Holy Night," and that was AWESOME, but the loud drunk people behind us would not shut up. It was so dang annoying. Listen, I'm no saint, and I've had a few nights of too many libations, but why would you pay all that money for a concert just to get drunk and ruin the experience?
Anyway...the guys did their typical boy band stuff. They stepped in rhythm, swirling and twirling around their microphones, pointing to the big spenders in the front row, and danced in synchronicity. I think mom said it was "deliberately corny," which was perfectly accurate. They didn't take themselves too seriously, and it was FANTASTIC.
Does that help? I actually did take notes on my phone during the entire concert, in an effort to remember everything worth noting so I could indulge you with vibrant imagery and make you wish you had been there. I will say that the next time I go to a concert at the Palace, I will either pay the big bucks to sit in the front row, or spend as little as possible to get a seat in the balcony, just so I can see everything that's going on.
Alright, kids, how was your holiday season, aka Christmas? Mine was pretty good, other than that demonic spawn known as Flu type A having inhabited my body for nearly 3 weeks. Well, I didn't KNOW it was the flu until I went to Immediate Care on the 26th. It probably wasn't the flu the whole time. But maybe. Who knows. I never had a fever, aches, or chills. Ever. But, the point is I'm like, 87% better today. I can't wait to get back to running and stuff...I have a schedule to keep, you know. I paid that hefty race fee, so I need to stay on top of this thing called training.
I guess it's only appropriate that I throw in a few words about 2018 and reflection and yadda yadda. You know what? 2017 was awesome for some of you, and it was not-so-awesome for some of you. I think there was a good mix of good and bad for us, but it's always nice to have the feeling of impending hope from something new coming up.
I hate the term "resolution," because it has such a connotation of constraint. You already know when you set your New Year's Resolutions that you will break them, and you're just playing a game with yourself. It's really an exhausting waste of time. I'm a fan of being in the present. January 1st does not have to mean that you have to begin something unrealistically new for yourself, just for the sake of it being January 1st. Today is December 29th. If you decide you want to swap your candy addiction for fruit, then walk to your kitchen, and all of your hiding places, throw out your candy, and go to the store to buy fruit. Walmart is open 24 hours. So is Kroger. So is Meijer. If you want to start journaling, go right now and find an empty notebook (you know you have 100 of them), and start journaling. Or go to a free blogging site and sign up for a free blank blog. If you need a topic, go to Pinterest and search "topics for journaling." You'll get about 1,000 to pick from, I swear. If you want to learn how to work out, then set your alarm for 8:00 tomorrow morning, because it's a Saturday, and go somewhere to learn how to workout. Phone a friend. It's much more fun with a friend.
If you want to start doing something, then start doing it when you decide you want to start doing it. Don't wait for the excuse of putting up a new calendar. I read a great quote a few weeks ago that said something like this: You don't need motivation, you need discipline. Motivation is just the wanting. Discipline is the doing. Need help figuring out how to start whatever it is you want to start? CALL ME. Message me. Text me. I don't care. I'll help you.
2018 will be here in just over 48 hours. You don't have to flip your life upside down for it. Just never stop trying to be better.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Wrapped Up
Well, I just submitted my last assignments for my first quarter of my Masters Degree program. It feels awesome to be done for a few weeks! Okay...on to more important things.
I can't even begin to talk about all the crappy things going on in our world. Fires are destroying California, it's snowing in the deep south, people are shooting each other all over the place, people are touching people they have no business touching and acting like they have a right to do so, corruption is rampant...goodness, does it ever stop? I'm afraid not. But I can explore those things another time.
I started to include my review of the 98 Degrees Christmas concert, but it was getting too long to share with my thoughts for this post, so it will be published separately, probably tomorrow.
The Christmas Spirit continues to fall upon me. I'm sending letters and cards and spending all kinds of money, and trying to make sure I spend time with everyone I can.
Also, another big announcement: I'm probably crazy, but I have decided to run the Derby Mini Marathon in April. AAAAAAAAHHHHHH what am I thinking?! Several people have faith in me, but I'm working on building that faith in myself. I've had a case of the sicklies the past few days, so my training has been thrown off, but I have extra weeks built in, so I am crossing my fingers I can progress in time. I have something like 20 weeks left. So, cross your fingers and toes for me!
OKAY:
WE. NEED. TO. TALK. ABOUT. THE. WALKING. DEAD.
So stop reading if you're not caught. And if you're a fan and you're not caught up by now, then you're not a fan and shame on you.
.
.
.
.
.
COOOOOOORAALLL!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Okay, so, my first thought was "OMG WHAT THE HECK?" Then, I started thinking about the show, and reasons and patterns and rationales and WHY and death histories and montages and flashbacks and stories and WHYYYY. My thought shifted to "Maybe it's not a walker bite." Because we didn't see jack squat happen! Like, he tugs at Negan's heart strings for a minute, darts, runs around and almost gets exploded on, then shows up with a walker bite? Um, I refuse to accept this, AMC.
Then on Talking Dead, Chris Hardwick was all sentimental about Coooral, and I thought he got teary-eyed for a second. The executive producer of the show was all emotional, too. Then I read some stuff on Twitter, and read Chandler's interview on the AMC blog, and I got all emotional right along with them all!!!!!! I even Tweeted Chandler, AMC, and Chris Hardwick: "Please tell me this is a big joke and it's not a walker bite." They have yet to reply. Whatevs. I'm an inquiring mind. I need to know.
But, seriously....COOOORAL?????? Why couldn't it be Carol? Or Michonne? Or Ezekiel? Or FREAKING GREGORY? Gregory has outlived Carl. What a crock-o-poo.
I can't even begin to talk about all the crappy things going on in our world. Fires are destroying California, it's snowing in the deep south, people are shooting each other all over the place, people are touching people they have no business touching and acting like they have a right to do so, corruption is rampant...goodness, does it ever stop? I'm afraid not. But I can explore those things another time.
I started to include my review of the 98 Degrees Christmas concert, but it was getting too long to share with my thoughts for this post, so it will be published separately, probably tomorrow.
The Christmas Spirit continues to fall upon me. I'm sending letters and cards and spending all kinds of money, and trying to make sure I spend time with everyone I can.
Also, another big announcement: I'm probably crazy, but I have decided to run the Derby Mini Marathon in April. AAAAAAAAHHHHHH what am I thinking?! Several people have faith in me, but I'm working on building that faith in myself. I've had a case of the sicklies the past few days, so my training has been thrown off, but I have extra weeks built in, so I am crossing my fingers I can progress in time. I have something like 20 weeks left. So, cross your fingers and toes for me!
OKAY:
WE. NEED. TO. TALK. ABOUT. THE. WALKING. DEAD.
So stop reading if you're not caught. And if you're a fan and you're not caught up by now, then you're not a fan and shame on you.
.
.
.
.
.
COOOOOOORAALLL!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Okay, so, my first thought was "OMG WHAT THE HECK?" Then, I started thinking about the show, and reasons and patterns and rationales and WHY and death histories and montages and flashbacks and stories and WHYYYY. My thought shifted to "Maybe it's not a walker bite." Because we didn't see jack squat happen! Like, he tugs at Negan's heart strings for a minute, darts, runs around and almost gets exploded on, then shows up with a walker bite? Um, I refuse to accept this, AMC.
Then on Talking Dead, Chris Hardwick was all sentimental about Coooral, and I thought he got teary-eyed for a second. The executive producer of the show was all emotional, too. Then I read some stuff on Twitter, and read Chandler's interview on the AMC blog, and I got all emotional right along with them all!!!!!! I even Tweeted Chandler, AMC, and Chris Hardwick: "Please tell me this is a big joke and it's not a walker bite." They have yet to reply. Whatevs. I'm an inquiring mind. I need to know.
But, seriously....COOOORAL?????? Why couldn't it be Carol? Or Michonne? Or Ezekiel? Or FREAKING GREGORY? Gregory has outlived Carl. What a crock-o-poo.
Sunday, December 3, 2017
Christmas Hodge Podge
I'm a little short on snark tonight. My Christmas spirit is coming back slowly, but surely. While the
stresses of life have not eased up on me, my ability to cope and
redirect have been refined, and I'm able to find space in my heart for the joy of
the season.
While I was finishing my homework tonight, I've been watching the Jim Carrey version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas - really just to kill time until "The Walking Dead" comes on (hey, priorities, people!) The part where he goes on his tangent about the presents really kind of hit me. A lot of people say that Christmas has become this materialistic holiday, where people only care about the presents. I think that's only true to a degree. I think people do get caught up in the gifts, but for the feeling of giving, not so much for the item itself. Sure, we give ourselves a set of standards that we feel we should live up to in terms of gift awesomeness, but really, the gift itself doesn't matter if it's heartfelt.
I have been contemplating the idea of a little Christmas party, because I just love the idea of gathering and eating and laughing and all sorts of fun stuff. I'd love to have all of you together to play Dirty Santa or White Elephant, eat some awesome food, and dance or play games, or whatever. I also thought of a fun cookie exchange. My problem is it's already December 3rd. Is there still even time to put something together?
Nonetheless, my tree is only half-decorated, and I don't even have a stocking for myself. The Stuart Christmas card has not been designed, and I'm way behind on my gift list. Christmas movies on tv are fewer and farther between than they were when I was a kid, and I'm upset that Netflix doesn't have a holiday category with classic holiday films anymore (unless I'm blind and missed it.) I got through Halloween and realized I hadn't watched Hocus Pocus once during October. Shame. I also saw it playing on tv today - come on, Disney. It's December. This mixing up holidays is giving me anxiety.
I'm not to a point where I can listen to 106.9 24/7, because even Christmas songs get recycled too much, but if I'm in someone else's car or hear it on someone else's radio, I don't make them change it. I don't have any hot chocolate or peppermint candy canes in the house, but that will change asap.
Let's have a great holiday season. Live, love, laugh, and GIVE. And most importantly, continue the living, and the loving, and the laughing, and the giving all year. People need things during the other 11 months of the year, too.
While I was finishing my homework tonight, I've been watching the Jim Carrey version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas - really just to kill time until "The Walking Dead" comes on (hey, priorities, people!) The part where he goes on his tangent about the presents really kind of hit me. A lot of people say that Christmas has become this materialistic holiday, where people only care about the presents. I think that's only true to a degree. I think people do get caught up in the gifts, but for the feeling of giving, not so much for the item itself. Sure, we give ourselves a set of standards that we feel we should live up to in terms of gift awesomeness, but really, the gift itself doesn't matter if it's heartfelt.
I have been contemplating the idea of a little Christmas party, because I just love the idea of gathering and eating and laughing and all sorts of fun stuff. I'd love to have all of you together to play Dirty Santa or White Elephant, eat some awesome food, and dance or play games, or whatever. I also thought of a fun cookie exchange. My problem is it's already December 3rd. Is there still even time to put something together?
Nonetheless, my tree is only half-decorated, and I don't even have a stocking for myself. The Stuart Christmas card has not been designed, and I'm way behind on my gift list. Christmas movies on tv are fewer and farther between than they were when I was a kid, and I'm upset that Netflix doesn't have a holiday category with classic holiday films anymore (unless I'm blind and missed it.) I got through Halloween and realized I hadn't watched Hocus Pocus once during October. Shame. I also saw it playing on tv today - come on, Disney. It's December. This mixing up holidays is giving me anxiety.
I'm not to a point where I can listen to 106.9 24/7, because even Christmas songs get recycled too much, but if I'm in someone else's car or hear it on someone else's radio, I don't make them change it. I don't have any hot chocolate or peppermint candy canes in the house, but that will change asap.
Let's have a great holiday season. Live, love, laugh, and GIVE. And most importantly, continue the living, and the loving, and the laughing, and the giving all year. People need things during the other 11 months of the year, too.
Monday, November 27, 2017
Hey, Look - Two in a Row
Wow, this is some kind of record, isn't it? Two in a row! That's worth a toast, but I'm already so dang tired that just taking a whiff of that beautiful Pop's Reserve would knock me out. That reminds me - I still owe my brother money.
I had a weird day at work, and I gave myself a paper cut with foil cooking dinner (only me), and my dogs' schedule is so messed up and they won't.stop.whining. I went for a run after work with my neighbor friend, and we ran a trail through McNeely Lake and back up the hills to the road and I'm basically dead now. I drank a bottle of Coke earlier (judge me, I dare you!) Then it was grad school homework, which I will just have to pick back up tomorrow night, because my brain is at capacity.
Moving on...if you haven't seen last night's episode of The Walking Dead, then STOP READING. I usually don't give warnings, so consider this as me being fair.
Okay...I need to talk about a few things. First of all, SNOOZEFEST. Gosh, can't we get some more action up in here? Blah blah blah, Carl feeds weird hyper stranger that we thought he already did weeks ago...Aaron misses his dead boyfriend - got it....Michonne and Rosita are trying to get their already-injured selves killed...Maggie gets the MVP award for the night, because Gregory SUCKS....Daryl is his normal awesome hot self....and so LET'S TALK ABOUT EZEKIEL AND CAROL.
Ezekiel is still pouting over the unjustified loss of his beloved Shiva. Seriously - if you think her death wasn't stupid and in vain, then you need to re-evaluate your life. That beautifully constructed CGI tiger was way stronger and way more agile than those stupid radioactive creek walkers. She deserved a better death, and while I actually cried at this one, and it gave me all the feels like when Andy and Red find each other again at the end of Shawshank Redemption, it was still dumb and unwarranted. We never even learned her purpose, for cryin' out loud. Died protecting her king? Ehhhhhhh sure. Whatever. But, I digress...
Ezekiel is pouting in the corner, finally realizing that he needs to drop the façade and be himself. Jerry is blocking the door for him, not even letting the Prodigal Carol inside. THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED THE WHOLE TIME. Like, how much more dramatic can you be, Ezekiel? What are you, 5? Did someone take away your toy and you're hiding in plain sight now, throwing a fit and really wanting attention but pretending you don't? Then Mother Carol comes and coddles you and you still have your lip stuck out and huff and puff as she walks away. Suck it up, buttercup.
In other news, I read on Twitter today that Morgan is officially the crossover character into Fear the Walking Dead. I have not watched FTWD since Season 1, so I'm out of the loop here - but WHY MORGAN? I actually like the guy, now that he got his head on straight. Why couldn't it be Carol? Forrealz, though.
In honor of Motivational Monday, I leave you with this Demotivational poster from despair.com. I feel as though it sums up the utter failure of the Kingdom's crew in fighting the Saviors.
I had a weird day at work, and I gave myself a paper cut with foil cooking dinner (only me), and my dogs' schedule is so messed up and they won't.stop.whining. I went for a run after work with my neighbor friend, and we ran a trail through McNeely Lake and back up the hills to the road and I'm basically dead now. I drank a bottle of Coke earlier (judge me, I dare you!) Then it was grad school homework, which I will just have to pick back up tomorrow night, because my brain is at capacity.
Moving on...if you haven't seen last night's episode of The Walking Dead, then STOP READING. I usually don't give warnings, so consider this as me being fair.
Okay...I need to talk about a few things. First of all, SNOOZEFEST. Gosh, can't we get some more action up in here? Blah blah blah, Carl feeds weird hyper stranger that we thought he already did weeks ago...Aaron misses his dead boyfriend - got it....Michonne and Rosita are trying to get their already-injured selves killed...Maggie gets the MVP award for the night, because Gregory SUCKS....Daryl is his normal awesome hot self....and so LET'S TALK ABOUT EZEKIEL AND CAROL.
Ezekiel is still pouting over the unjustified loss of his beloved Shiva. Seriously - if you think her death wasn't stupid and in vain, then you need to re-evaluate your life. That beautifully constructed CGI tiger was way stronger and way more agile than those stupid radioactive creek walkers. She deserved a better death, and while I actually cried at this one, and it gave me all the feels like when Andy and Red find each other again at the end of Shawshank Redemption, it was still dumb and unwarranted. We never even learned her purpose, for cryin' out loud. Died protecting her king? Ehhhhhhh sure. Whatever. But, I digress...
Ezekiel is pouting in the corner, finally realizing that he needs to drop the façade and be himself. Jerry is blocking the door for him, not even letting the Prodigal Carol inside. THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED THE WHOLE TIME. Like, how much more dramatic can you be, Ezekiel? What are you, 5? Did someone take away your toy and you're hiding in plain sight now, throwing a fit and really wanting attention but pretending you don't? Then Mother Carol comes and coddles you and you still have your lip stuck out and huff and puff as she walks away. Suck it up, buttercup.
In other news, I read on Twitter today that Morgan is officially the crossover character into Fear the Walking Dead. I have not watched FTWD since Season 1, so I'm out of the loop here - but WHY MORGAN? I actually like the guy, now that he got his head on straight. Why couldn't it be Carol? Forrealz, though.
In honor of Motivational Monday, I leave you with this Demotivational poster from despair.com. I feel as though it sums up the utter failure of the Kingdom's crew in fighting the Saviors.
And now I have to go watch my champion, Roman Reigns, beat the crap out of some loser who wants to challenge him.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Catching Up is What I Do
Well, here I am again, trying to blog and pour my guts out and all that jazz. The less I write, the more I miss it, yet I find myself in this vicious cycle of wanting to write about everything and nothing all at the same time. When I opened my dashboard, and saw that my last post was from January 2016, I almost shit a brick. Nearly two years have gone by without a peep. What's funny is that so much life has happened in the dash between January 2016 - present. I'm just terrible at follow-through, so let's raise a glass and toast my effort here, shall we?
Over those course of these last two years, I think I have finally, maybe started to get myself figured out. I've been on this quest to find myself for a while, and I've come upon crossroad after crossroad, trees in the road, cliffs, U-turns...you name it. I'm 36 now, and while I never thought it would take this long for me to get it straight, I think I'm good now. At least, I hope I am.
Here's what I know:
I'm a 30-something who's married to a 40-something, and we live in a little apartment with our two furry children.
I'm a grad school student who works full time.
I love to watch TV. Like, a lot. Probably way too much. But you know what? There are worse things to love. I will be writing some about the shows I watch.
I am addicted to budgeting. This does not mean I don't spend money...it simply means I am always aware of where every penny is going. Until I forget to pay the cable bill like I did this month. Oops.
Facebook's new option to comment with GIFs is probably one of my most favorite things. I have so much fun with that crap.
I'm a runner now. Shoot, I never in a million years thought I'd say that. My brother and I ran the Hungry Turkey 5k on Thanksgiving - yes, 72 hours ago. I ran it in 44:32. Well, with intervals. But hey, I got a delicious cinnamon roll and a fugly hoodie to show for it. Like, uugggllly. As in, "I can't believe I paid $30 for this race to get such an ugly hoodie."
I'm a soccer fan now. I never thought in 2 million years I'd say that. Louisville City FC is like, the greatest thing since sliced bread. And mayo in a jar. And white fudge Oreos. THEY'RE CHAMPS, Y'ALL!!
I love my friends. I'm not always the best there is, but I'm grateful for the ones who keep coming back around.
I still cook - a lot. As a matter of fact, I've basically dropped all these food lifestyles I've tried and gone back to good ole caloric moderation with as much fresh/Non-GMO stuff as possible. Anything else is way too stressful. For example, at the store today, I bought my favorite Special K cereal and Fairlife 2% milk. I haven't had milk in foreevveerrrr. But you know what? A bowl of cereal is FINE. Seriously, it is.
I'm still a flute girl. Even teaching it now.
I still suck at birthdays. Christmas is still not my favorite holiday, but it's not my least-favorite anymore. I'm kind of in a little bit of the spirit this year.
Well, you're probably tired of reading this now. My dogs are whining for their dinner, I need to finish watching the Patriots dominate the Dolphins, and I need to get my vegetable soup in the Instant Pot so I have something to eat because, you know, moderation...
Here's what you can expect: me trying to keep up with my thoughts. One of these days, I want to write a book about God knows what, but I need somewhere to write whatever is on my mind at whatever time is comes up, because I can't remember jack squat on my own. I'll ramble, I'll vent, I'll review some TV stuff, I'll share whatever I can share, including spoilers. Don't worry, I'll warn you first.
Peace out, homeskillets. (Wow, that's as nostalgic as these crushed velvet outfits and chokers coming back in style!)
Over those course of these last two years, I think I have finally, maybe started to get myself figured out. I've been on this quest to find myself for a while, and I've come upon crossroad after crossroad, trees in the road, cliffs, U-turns...you name it. I'm 36 now, and while I never thought it would take this long for me to get it straight, I think I'm good now. At least, I hope I am.
Here's what I know:
I'm a 30-something who's married to a 40-something, and we live in a little apartment with our two furry children.
I'm a grad school student who works full time.
I love to watch TV. Like, a lot. Probably way too much. But you know what? There are worse things to love. I will be writing some about the shows I watch.
I am addicted to budgeting. This does not mean I don't spend money...it simply means I am always aware of where every penny is going. Until I forget to pay the cable bill like I did this month. Oops.
Facebook's new option to comment with GIFs is probably one of my most favorite things. I have so much fun with that crap.
I'm a runner now. Shoot, I never in a million years thought I'd say that. My brother and I ran the Hungry Turkey 5k on Thanksgiving - yes, 72 hours ago. I ran it in 44:32. Well, with intervals. But hey, I got a delicious cinnamon roll and a fugly hoodie to show for it. Like, uugggllly. As in, "I can't believe I paid $30 for this race to get such an ugly hoodie."
I'm a soccer fan now. I never thought in 2 million years I'd say that. Louisville City FC is like, the greatest thing since sliced bread. And mayo in a jar. And white fudge Oreos. THEY'RE CHAMPS, Y'ALL!!
I love my friends. I'm not always the best there is, but I'm grateful for the ones who keep coming back around.
I still cook - a lot. As a matter of fact, I've basically dropped all these food lifestyles I've tried and gone back to good ole caloric moderation with as much fresh/Non-GMO stuff as possible. Anything else is way too stressful. For example, at the store today, I bought my favorite Special K cereal and Fairlife 2% milk. I haven't had milk in foreevveerrrr. But you know what? A bowl of cereal is FINE. Seriously, it is.
I'm still a flute girl. Even teaching it now.
I still suck at birthdays. Christmas is still not my favorite holiday, but it's not my least-favorite anymore. I'm kind of in a little bit of the spirit this year.
Well, you're probably tired of reading this now. My dogs are whining for their dinner, I need to finish watching the Patriots dominate the Dolphins, and I need to get my vegetable soup in the Instant Pot so I have something to eat because, you know, moderation...
Here's what you can expect: me trying to keep up with my thoughts. One of these days, I want to write a book about God knows what, but I need somewhere to write whatever is on my mind at whatever time is comes up, because I can't remember jack squat on my own. I'll ramble, I'll vent, I'll review some TV stuff, I'll share whatever I can share, including spoilers. Don't worry, I'll warn you first.
Peace out, homeskillets. (Wow, that's as nostalgic as these crushed velvet outfits and chokers coming back in style!)
Friday, January 1, 2016
Peace
It's pretty rare for me to talk about things in a serious tone. I
try not to take life too incredibly seriously, and I try to find a
reason to laugh every day. The thing is, I'm living with anxiety.
Sure, I've always been the worry wart, and my brain wants to explode
when spontaneous things combust around me because I'm such a planner,
but over the past few years, this condition has developed inside of me,
and I'm finally willing and able to call it what it is. But let me
clear one thing up: this is not anxiety/depression. I am not
depressed. I fall into the occasional slump, sometimes for 2 or 3 days
at a time, but I never feel hopeless or unworthy. I never fall that
far.
It's been difficult for me to find peace most of my life. I have always, even as a kid, felt like I'm living somewhere I don't belong, and my life just isn't mine. It's like I'm living in a surreal, parallel universe of someone else's. I still struggle with that at 34 years old. Sometimes I feel like things are spinning out of control, and I have anxiety attacks. It's just part of my life now. I constantly worry about things I need to do, I carry a load of guilt around about all the friendships I've lost as a result of my own stupidity. I still have trouble fully letting go of my first marriage because I feel so scorned and want revenge. I finally decided that I had to find a way to get rid of all of this extra weight.
Having grown up surrounded by and immersed in the tenets of the Southern Baptist faith, it was ludicrous to even try and think about venturing out into another form of spirituality that may have better fit me. Nothing else was an option: prayer was the only way, God was the only other-wordly force. Have I ever experienced God? Yes, on multiple occasions. I believe He exists and is very real. Have I ever experienced evil forces? Yes. I believe they also exist and are very real.
I've never really felt connected to prayer. I participated...bowed my head, spoke some words of praise and voiced concerns and made requests, said "Amen..." but I've never really *felt* it. Do I believe in miracles? Sure...I've been part of those small daily ones, like when you're driving, and you drift off into la la land or mess with the radio, but you happen to look up at just the right moment to hit a curve or avoid slamming into the car in front of you.
Last week, I decided to take a leap of faith (no pun intended) and try meditation. I talked to a few people, looked up some stuff online, bought a book and a journal, and I have started with YouTube videos of guided meditations for beginners (hey, gotta start somewhere, right?) I actually started on Monday, and have practiced for 10 minutes a day, and I can already absolutely tell a difference in my spirit. It's a slow start, and I'm learning patience with myself, but something is happening...a shift in my perspective and mindfulness is definitely occurring. I have no idea where this journey is going to take me, but it will be so interesting to find out.
It's been difficult for me to find peace most of my life. I have always, even as a kid, felt like I'm living somewhere I don't belong, and my life just isn't mine. It's like I'm living in a surreal, parallel universe of someone else's. I still struggle with that at 34 years old. Sometimes I feel like things are spinning out of control, and I have anxiety attacks. It's just part of my life now. I constantly worry about things I need to do, I carry a load of guilt around about all the friendships I've lost as a result of my own stupidity. I still have trouble fully letting go of my first marriage because I feel so scorned and want revenge. I finally decided that I had to find a way to get rid of all of this extra weight.
Having grown up surrounded by and immersed in the tenets of the Southern Baptist faith, it was ludicrous to even try and think about venturing out into another form of spirituality that may have better fit me. Nothing else was an option: prayer was the only way, God was the only other-wordly force. Have I ever experienced God? Yes, on multiple occasions. I believe He exists and is very real. Have I ever experienced evil forces? Yes. I believe they also exist and are very real.
I've never really felt connected to prayer. I participated...bowed my head, spoke some words of praise and voiced concerns and made requests, said "Amen..." but I've never really *felt* it. Do I believe in miracles? Sure...I've been part of those small daily ones, like when you're driving, and you drift off into la la land or mess with the radio, but you happen to look up at just the right moment to hit a curve or avoid slamming into the car in front of you.
Last week, I decided to take a leap of faith (no pun intended) and try meditation. I talked to a few people, looked up some stuff online, bought a book and a journal, and I have started with YouTube videos of guided meditations for beginners (hey, gotta start somewhere, right?) I actually started on Monday, and have practiced for 10 minutes a day, and I can already absolutely tell a difference in my spirit. It's a slow start, and I'm learning patience with myself, but something is happening...a shift in my perspective and mindfulness is definitely occurring. I have no idea where this journey is going to take me, but it will be so interesting to find out.
Monday, April 27, 2015
Evil Money
I'm skipping dinner to write this because I've had such a bad day, and I need to get this off my chest.
I've started reading Dave Ramsey's The Total Money Makeover, because I want to be able to provide a place for Phil and me when he gets here permanently. I'm about 75% of the way through the book, and have learned a lot of invaluable information. I've started to change my view of money and how it should be handled, and I'm so inspired to make the changes that Dave calls for in his plan. I've contemplated taking up a 2nd job again, because I know that will be the quickest and easiest way to make the money I need to get rolling. I've even thought about selling my flute, and anyone who's known me for any decent length of time should know how big of a deal that is. The thing is, it's the last part of me that's left. If I give that up, I have nothing else. I'm really struggling the thought of letting that go.
I decided to try and save money where I can, so I'm cancelling my gym membership, I've cancelled Weight Watchers, and I will probably go inactive on the direct sales companies I'm a part of, just to save from paying what will keep me active. I'm ready for a radical change, and I don't really care who has what to say about it.
Today, I contacted a guy who I thought could help me get a better insurance rate on my car. I drive a 13-year-old Dodge Neon, and pay $92/month for liability only as a driver on my mom's policy. Personally, I think that's ridiculous, and I hate paying that much. My annual premium is triple the value of the car. STUPID.
The guy was very nice and very helpful, and he wanted to find me a better rate. He took my info, including my SSN, and a couple hours later, emailed me to say that I should just stay where I'm at because my credit doesn't afford me a better rate than what I'm paying. He actually said my rate was fantastic. That's probably the word that broke the camel's back for me. Fantastic? Really?
Then I got mad that my credit was the basis for the rates. What in the hell does my financial history have to do with my ability to drive a car without wrecking it to pieces? Really, I want to know. So, here I am again, being punished because my credit is in repair mode from my first marriage - I'm facing the repercussions of a lazy spouse who put me in this mess to begin with. I swear to God, he will haunt me for the rest of my life. (Clearly, I still have issues surrounding this.)
The results instantly deflated me, but oddly enough, at the same time, my inner "Billie" came out. That's my mom. There's not much of her in me, but once in a while, what is there rears its head in situations like this. It's kind of a running joke...but I digress, as usual. My inner Billie rose up and said, "Eff you, credit. I don't need you, anyway." So I'm going to keep what I have, incorporate it into my budget, and work around it. It is what it is, right? Suck it up, buttercup. Figure it out.
I will gain control of this, and I will be better off for it in the long run. I am motivated, but I hope I can keep up the momentum. I will conquer you, EVIL MONEY!!
I've started reading Dave Ramsey's The Total Money Makeover, because I want to be able to provide a place for Phil and me when he gets here permanently. I'm about 75% of the way through the book, and have learned a lot of invaluable information. I've started to change my view of money and how it should be handled, and I'm so inspired to make the changes that Dave calls for in his plan. I've contemplated taking up a 2nd job again, because I know that will be the quickest and easiest way to make the money I need to get rolling. I've even thought about selling my flute, and anyone who's known me for any decent length of time should know how big of a deal that is. The thing is, it's the last part of me that's left. If I give that up, I have nothing else. I'm really struggling the thought of letting that go.
I decided to try and save money where I can, so I'm cancelling my gym membership, I've cancelled Weight Watchers, and I will probably go inactive on the direct sales companies I'm a part of, just to save from paying what will keep me active. I'm ready for a radical change, and I don't really care who has what to say about it.
Today, I contacted a guy who I thought could help me get a better insurance rate on my car. I drive a 13-year-old Dodge Neon, and pay $92/month for liability only as a driver on my mom's policy. Personally, I think that's ridiculous, and I hate paying that much. My annual premium is triple the value of the car. STUPID.
The guy was very nice and very helpful, and he wanted to find me a better rate. He took my info, including my SSN, and a couple hours later, emailed me to say that I should just stay where I'm at because my credit doesn't afford me a better rate than what I'm paying. He actually said my rate was fantastic. That's probably the word that broke the camel's back for me. Fantastic? Really?
Then I got mad that my credit was the basis for the rates. What in the hell does my financial history have to do with my ability to drive a car without wrecking it to pieces? Really, I want to know. So, here I am again, being punished because my credit is in repair mode from my first marriage - I'm facing the repercussions of a lazy spouse who put me in this mess to begin with. I swear to God, he will haunt me for the rest of my life. (Clearly, I still have issues surrounding this.)
The results instantly deflated me, but oddly enough, at the same time, my inner "Billie" came out. That's my mom. There's not much of her in me, but once in a while, what is there rears its head in situations like this. It's kind of a running joke...but I digress, as usual. My inner Billie rose up and said, "Eff you, credit. I don't need you, anyway." So I'm going to keep what I have, incorporate it into my budget, and work around it. It is what it is, right? Suck it up, buttercup. Figure it out.
I will gain control of this, and I will be better off for it in the long run. I am motivated, but I hope I can keep up the momentum. I will conquer you, EVIL MONEY!!
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Another Goodbye
Tomorrow, Phil goes back to England for another undetermined amount of time. As I reflect on the week we've had together, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. I'm enthralled that it worked out so that we could spend our 1st anniversary together. At the same time, I'm aggravated at what a cocked up Immigration system we have. How can it be so difficult to let such a good man into our country?
For those of you who get to see your loves every day, you are so lucky, and I am envious. Thou shalt not covet? Well, I covet the time you get to spend together that I don't get. I want that all the time. I challenge you all to hug your love ones tightly, and do not let them go. Every moment with them is precious, and never forget that they can be taken away from you in a second. Saying goodbye never gets easier, no matter how many times you have to do it.
For those of you who get to see your loves every day, you are so lucky, and I am envious. Thou shalt not covet? Well, I covet the time you get to spend together that I don't get. I want that all the time. I challenge you all to hug your love ones tightly, and do not let them go. Every moment with them is precious, and never forget that they can be taken away from you in a second. Saying goodbye never gets easier, no matter how many times you have to do it.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Lost in Therapy Translation
Music used to be my therapy, my escape route. I could get lost for hours in the twiddles of my flute or the tinkers on my piano. But now, there is no music in my house, or in my life. That leaves a sense of loneliness that is difficult to describe -- only one that other musicians know.
Writing was my next form of therapy. I used to write poem after poem about anything and everything. I don't even have my poems anymore. I left those at my old house when I got divorced. I did have one published once, though. I still have the book.
Then, I started to blog, thinking it might take me somewhere and give me a consistent means of expression. I love blogging, but I struggle to find my communicative purpose. I have millions of thoughts every day, and think, "Man, I'd like to write about that," but the second I sit down to write, I blank. Well, I don't really blank out...I think it's more of me having so much so say but not knowing where to start.
My background in English knows that good readers make good writers. I have EVERY intention of reading more; my heart is in the right place, but I never seem to find the right time.
There was a period of time when going to the gym was my therapy. That didn't last long. I lack the determination because when it comes to exercise, mediocre is good enough for me.
After that phase, furniture was my therapy. Let me tell you something -- I LOVE restoring and upcycling furniture. Seriously, it is a huge passion of mine. I'm just limited in time and resources, so I just can't do it as much as I really want to.
Cooking was my therapy in between all of that other stuff.
Now, interestingly enough, working is my therapy. This is not how I imagined my life. I never stop. Ever. I don't have any sense of work/life balance, no matter how hard I try. I want to work to live, not live to work.
How do I regain my balance? I feel so lost.
Writing was my next form of therapy. I used to write poem after poem about anything and everything. I don't even have my poems anymore. I left those at my old house when I got divorced. I did have one published once, though. I still have the book.
Then, I started to blog, thinking it might take me somewhere and give me a consistent means of expression. I love blogging, but I struggle to find my communicative purpose. I have millions of thoughts every day, and think, "Man, I'd like to write about that," but the second I sit down to write, I blank. Well, I don't really blank out...I think it's more of me having so much so say but not knowing where to start.
My background in English knows that good readers make good writers. I have EVERY intention of reading more; my heart is in the right place, but I never seem to find the right time.
There was a period of time when going to the gym was my therapy. That didn't last long. I lack the determination because when it comes to exercise, mediocre is good enough for me.
After that phase, furniture was my therapy. Let me tell you something -- I LOVE restoring and upcycling furniture. Seriously, it is a huge passion of mine. I'm just limited in time and resources, so I just can't do it as much as I really want to.
Cooking was my therapy in between all of that other stuff.
Now, interestingly enough, working is my therapy. This is not how I imagined my life. I never stop. Ever. I don't have any sense of work/life balance, no matter how hard I try. I want to work to live, not live to work.
How do I regain my balance? I feel so lost.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
New Year
As I posted my blog just a minute ago, I found the draft you see below...unfinished, of course.
'Tis the season to reflect and renew, right? I admit, I get sucked in to the hype of a hopeful new year. A fresh start. 2013 has been a roller coaster for me, but I have to say that I am not all that disappointed with how it turned out.
For starters, I married my perfect match. While we're still waiting for our perfect happy ending, we've made huge strides in getting there. I know I moan and groan and cry about our time apart, and I know some of you get sick of it, but it's not easy living apart. The separation has taught me to never, ever take our time together for granted, and it breaks my heart when I see people who do. I have learned to cherish every moment, because you never know when you will have to say goodbye.
'Tis the season to reflect and renew, right? I admit, I get sucked in to the hype of a hopeful new year. A fresh start. 2013 has been a roller coaster for me, but I have to say that I am not all that disappointed with how it turned out.
For starters, I married my perfect match. While we're still waiting for our perfect happy ending, we've made huge strides in getting there. I know I moan and groan and cry about our time apart, and I know some of you get sick of it, but it's not easy living apart. The separation has taught me to never, ever take our time together for granted, and it breaks my heart when I see people who do. I have learned to cherish every moment, because you never know when you will have to say goodbye.
Spring Cleaning of the Mind
My life is so flippin' random. No matter how much effort I put into giving it some structure, I am always left spinning in circles. Sixty days ago, I made a career change into corporate America and became a Payroll Specialist for Paychex. I actually just came back from a week in Rochester, NY, which went by so quickly, yet so slowly, all at the same time. I am still confident that this change is one of the better decisions I have made as of late, and the payoff is awesome. While I still work at Carmax part time, I finally have a schedule that my body can follow. Sure, I'm tired some mornings, but isn't everyone?
I've slowly opened up about some health issues I've been facing recently, as well. Over the past 6-8 months, every blood pressure reading I have had has been really high. What's normal? Something like 120/80? When I went to the Little Clinic one day for an upper respiratory infection, it was 183/110. Just last week, it was 152/100. I'm 32 years old and I'm experiencing hypertension. It's really starting to make me nervous, so I've been on the hunt for a doctor, and have requested an appointment. I don't want to be in danger of stroking out before Phil gets here. OH! I forgot! Immigration: Phase 1 is COMPLETE and APPROVED! In layman's terms, this just means that the USCIS (Dept of Immigration) has approved my application to bring Phil over as my husband. This is a HUGE step. Anywho, back to the blood pressure thing. I have been trying to make a conscious effort to decrease the amount of caffeinated drinks I ingest, and while I don't eat much salt to begin with, I have also been trying to cut that out...as much as I can and still have some flavor to my food. I have reeeeeaaaaaaallllllllly tried to drink water, at least 85-90% of the time. It is damn near impossible for me to give up the occasional Coke or Sweet Tea.
I get to the gym in spurts -- as much as I can. Planet Fitness is a good place. If I can just get this stupid foot to cooperate, things would be copacetic.
The best part about my whole job change is getting to see more of my family -- something I missed out on for too many years. My nieces bring so much joy to my life, and I just can't get enough of them. Tonight was the middle one's 3rd birthday party...to the theme of Frozen, of course. My brother and his wife, and my sister and I all grew up around the same people, so naturally, several of those people with whom I grew up were there, with all their kids running around. I was sitting far away from all the noise and chaos when it hit me: I'm only friends with ONE of these people on Facebook (not counting my family in that equation, of course.) I found it to be an interesting paradox that these people who knew much more about me than I knew of myself for all these years have no part in my daily life, yet we all see each other on a pretty consistent basis because my brother and his wife are pretty sociable. We're talkin' cookouts, Derby parties, birthday parties...really any reason to have people together and eat and be crazy. Then I started wondering why it even mattered whether or not we were Facebook friends. Facebook doesn't define my life...or is it starting to? I use Facebook a lot. I mean, A LOT. Mostly because I enjoy writing clever statuses that make people laugh, whether it's about a TV show or some political current event or some pop-culture phenomenon. In general, people get a kick out of what I write. There have been many times when I have contemplated pursuing a genre and just writing something, anything, every day. I feel good when I write. I feel good when I read. I feel good when I play music. I'm really good at all 3 of those things, so why can't I figure out a way to make time for them? Maybe quitting job #2 would be a start, but I'm so close to earning the Vegas trip I can SMELL IT (that's another blog post for another time.)
I'd like to have a blog that people want to read, and enjoy reading. I like to be engaged in discussion and conversation, and I like voicing my perspective on things. Your #1 suggestion is going to be to set aside 30 minutes each night to write whatever I want to write. I'm okay with a goal like that -- it's easy, and attainable, for sure. MY problem with goals is that I have zero accountability. None. Zip. Zilch. NADA. I have no one to answer to if I don't get down 300 words a night, or if I don't get someone's question answered. I have the will to do more, but what's my incentive? Self therapy every night? Maybe. But is that enough? No.
I suppose all this rambling is the "Spring Cleaning" of my mind. Maybe 30 minutes a night is all I need.
I've slowly opened up about some health issues I've been facing recently, as well. Over the past 6-8 months, every blood pressure reading I have had has been really high. What's normal? Something like 120/80? When I went to the Little Clinic one day for an upper respiratory infection, it was 183/110. Just last week, it was 152/100. I'm 32 years old and I'm experiencing hypertension. It's really starting to make me nervous, so I've been on the hunt for a doctor, and have requested an appointment. I don't want to be in danger of stroking out before Phil gets here. OH! I forgot! Immigration: Phase 1 is COMPLETE and APPROVED! In layman's terms, this just means that the USCIS (Dept of Immigration) has approved my application to bring Phil over as my husband. This is a HUGE step. Anywho, back to the blood pressure thing. I have been trying to make a conscious effort to decrease the amount of caffeinated drinks I ingest, and while I don't eat much salt to begin with, I have also been trying to cut that out...as much as I can and still have some flavor to my food. I have reeeeeaaaaaaallllllllly tried to drink water, at least 85-90% of the time. It is damn near impossible for me to give up the occasional Coke or Sweet Tea.
I get to the gym in spurts -- as much as I can. Planet Fitness is a good place. If I can just get this stupid foot to cooperate, things would be copacetic.
The best part about my whole job change is getting to see more of my family -- something I missed out on for too many years. My nieces bring so much joy to my life, and I just can't get enough of them. Tonight was the middle one's 3rd birthday party...to the theme of Frozen, of course. My brother and his wife, and my sister and I all grew up around the same people, so naturally, several of those people with whom I grew up were there, with all their kids running around. I was sitting far away from all the noise and chaos when it hit me: I'm only friends with ONE of these people on Facebook (not counting my family in that equation, of course.) I found it to be an interesting paradox that these people who knew much more about me than I knew of myself for all these years have no part in my daily life, yet we all see each other on a pretty consistent basis because my brother and his wife are pretty sociable. We're talkin' cookouts, Derby parties, birthday parties...really any reason to have people together and eat and be crazy. Then I started wondering why it even mattered whether or not we were Facebook friends. Facebook doesn't define my life...or is it starting to? I use Facebook a lot. I mean, A LOT. Mostly because I enjoy writing clever statuses that make people laugh, whether it's about a TV show or some political current event or some pop-culture phenomenon. In general, people get a kick out of what I write. There have been many times when I have contemplated pursuing a genre and just writing something, anything, every day. I feel good when I write. I feel good when I read. I feel good when I play music. I'm really good at all 3 of those things, so why can't I figure out a way to make time for them? Maybe quitting job #2 would be a start, but I'm so close to earning the Vegas trip I can SMELL IT (that's another blog post for another time.)
I'd like to have a blog that people want to read, and enjoy reading. I like to be engaged in discussion and conversation, and I like voicing my perspective on things. Your #1 suggestion is going to be to set aside 30 minutes each night to write whatever I want to write. I'm okay with a goal like that -- it's easy, and attainable, for sure. MY problem with goals is that I have zero accountability. None. Zip. Zilch. NADA. I have no one to answer to if I don't get down 300 words a night, or if I don't get someone's question answered. I have the will to do more, but what's my incentive? Self therapy every night? Maybe. But is that enough? No.
I suppose all this rambling is the "Spring Cleaning" of my mind. Maybe 30 minutes a night is all I need.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Thanks
I'm not really in the spirit of the season. Over the years, the excitement of the joyous festivities had become a hassle and an event-planning nightmare. I was dragged on a 12-hour excursion that was only meant to be a 4-hour road trip, because apparently it was a good idea to stop at EVERY.SINGLE.WALMART from Bowling Green to Paintsville. Coulda fooled me. Anyway, I digress. Now, I've been home for almost 3 years, and I get to cook for Thanksgiving. It's truly one of my best therapies. I get all day Wednesday to myself (with Phil on FaceTime) to mix, slice, dice, season, baste, simmer, bake, compile, cook, play, experiment, dance, lick spoons....what ever else I can do in my tiny little kitchen...all while listening to the music of my choice. For 12 hours, I am free.
After all that me-time, I get to spend time with my family. I get to watch them chow down after a long day at work, and I get to hear them tell me how great everything tastes (because yes, I'm a hell of a cook!) I am thankful that something I enjoy doing brings them happiness...and full bellies.
I am not thankful for the distance between Phil and me. To be quite honest with you, it really sucks big donkey balls that we can't spend the holidays together. Particularly because that's exactly what this time of year is set aside for. Not to mention that Phil has never experienced the absolute luxurious satisfaction of a full-on American Thanksgiving dinner. And if anyone has the audacity to try and make me feel guilty for feeling sad about it, I'll show you where you can stick your turkey. While everyone's specific situations are different, the bottom line is that separation is separation, distance is distance, and pain is pain. None of that will go away until he is here with me. So don't even go there.
Sometimes, I do find it difficult to be grateful for things in my life. Am I grateful that I'm broke? Hell no. Am I thankful for idiots on the Gene Snyder? Bet your ass I'm not. Do I have regrets? Yep, sure do. Should I be thankful that I struggle? That depends. What I really want is quite simple: a home of my own that I can share with my husband. That doesn't seem like an extraordinary request, does it? It's really easy for a lot of people to be able to fulfill that. Am I thankful for this lesson in patience? Absolutely not. Will I be grateful for the reward after it's complete? Absolutely yes.
I realize that a lot of my "Debbie Downer" moments circle back to the distance between Phil and me, but he's really all that's missing from my life. So, let me do you a favor and end this blog on a higher note. I promise, it'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy.
Here's what I'm truly, deeply, inherently thankful for...more than one day a year:
1. I am thankful to be the strong woman I have become. This has been a huge personal accomplishment for me. I am no longer feeble. I can stand up for myself (and generally have no qualms about it.)
2. I am thankful for Stuart. He turned 9 (nine. NINE!!) this year, and he has been by my side through some of my darkest days. He is a little shithead sometimes, but he's the cutest damn dog on the planet. I love my little tripod twerp. He is an amazing companion that still loves me, despite all my flaws...including saying no to treats....
3. I am thankful for the people who remain in my life unconditionally. Through all the adversity, I am blessed to be able to count my most loyal friends on one hand. We all have a lot of years tied up in each others' lives, and that deserves recognition and respect. You know who you are. I love you, and thank you for loving me.
4. I am thankful for my gifts. Music and cooking bring me more inner peace than anything, and I love that they are both things that bring other people joy.
5. I am thankful that I have a family that has never turned its back on me (for the most part.) They pulled me out of a deep, dark hole and came to my rescue, and that is something for which I can never repay them.
6. I am thankful that I have a stable job with a good company. It sounds cliche (or not, depending on where you work,) but I have finally found a place where I belong. It just took me a while to see it.
7. I am thankful for my love. He is the biggest blessing in my life.
Have a blessed Thanksgiving. Really remember what makes your life valuable, and keep it close to your heart.
After all that me-time, I get to spend time with my family. I get to watch them chow down after a long day at work, and I get to hear them tell me how great everything tastes (because yes, I'm a hell of a cook!) I am thankful that something I enjoy doing brings them happiness...and full bellies.
I am not thankful for the distance between Phil and me. To be quite honest with you, it really sucks big donkey balls that we can't spend the holidays together. Particularly because that's exactly what this time of year is set aside for. Not to mention that Phil has never experienced the absolute luxurious satisfaction of a full-on American Thanksgiving dinner. And if anyone has the audacity to try and make me feel guilty for feeling sad about it, I'll show you where you can stick your turkey. While everyone's specific situations are different, the bottom line is that separation is separation, distance is distance, and pain is pain. None of that will go away until he is here with me. So don't even go there.
Sometimes, I do find it difficult to be grateful for things in my life. Am I grateful that I'm broke? Hell no. Am I thankful for idiots on the Gene Snyder? Bet your ass I'm not. Do I have regrets? Yep, sure do. Should I be thankful that I struggle? That depends. What I really want is quite simple: a home of my own that I can share with my husband. That doesn't seem like an extraordinary request, does it? It's really easy for a lot of people to be able to fulfill that. Am I thankful for this lesson in patience? Absolutely not. Will I be grateful for the reward after it's complete? Absolutely yes.
I realize that a lot of my "Debbie Downer" moments circle back to the distance between Phil and me, but he's really all that's missing from my life. So, let me do you a favor and end this blog on a higher note. I promise, it'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy.
Here's what I'm truly, deeply, inherently thankful for...more than one day a year:
1. I am thankful to be the strong woman I have become. This has been a huge personal accomplishment for me. I am no longer feeble. I can stand up for myself (and generally have no qualms about it.)
2. I am thankful for Stuart. He turned 9 (nine. NINE!!) this year, and he has been by my side through some of my darkest days. He is a little shithead sometimes, but he's the cutest damn dog on the planet. I love my little tripod twerp. He is an amazing companion that still loves me, despite all my flaws...including saying no to treats....
3. I am thankful for the people who remain in my life unconditionally. Through all the adversity, I am blessed to be able to count my most loyal friends on one hand. We all have a lot of years tied up in each others' lives, and that deserves recognition and respect. You know who you are. I love you, and thank you for loving me.
4. I am thankful for my gifts. Music and cooking bring me more inner peace than anything, and I love that they are both things that bring other people joy.
5. I am thankful that I have a family that has never turned its back on me (for the most part.) They pulled me out of a deep, dark hole and came to my rescue, and that is something for which I can never repay them.
6. I am thankful that I have a stable job with a good company. It sounds cliche (or not, depending on where you work,) but I have finally found a place where I belong. It just took me a while to see it.
7. I am thankful for my love. He is the biggest blessing in my life.
Have a blessed Thanksgiving. Really remember what makes your life valuable, and keep it close to your heart.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
The Power of a Year
When I logged in to write my blog last night, I found this unfinished draft from July 31st:
One year ago today, I left England. I came back to the American life. I was once again separated from the love of my life and forced to start over. But I had a new focus: start the rebuilding process so that Phil and I could start planning our future.
The big D was priority #1. I filed for divorce from my now ex-husband almost immediately. Describing that as a trying time would be an understatement....not emotionally; I mean, I was completely over him. Trust me. I didn't know how the process worked, how long it would take, how he (the ex) would react...and I had NO money for a lawyer, so I had to wing it. I do have to say that the entire process was probably the biggest test of strength and courage I've ever endured. I discovered more about myself in those 2 months than I had my entire life.
Goal #2: Get a good job. I thought I had that with Avis, until I started to dig beneath the surface. Never would I have imagined being trapped...hook, line, and sinker, the way I was with that company. It smothered me in lies and empty promises, and I got to a point where I couldn't take any more. There's only so much strength one can muster each day in such a horrible work environment.
Hurdle #3: Immigration. We are on our way to apply for Phil to get his visa to come stay with me forever and ever and ever. This, perhaps, will be the single most difficult test of my life.
In just the few short months since I wrote this, I have accomplished 2 out of the 3, and we are mid-way through the 3rd. The title, "The Power of a Year" is the original title, but it really doesn't capture the scope of it all. It's been less than 3 months, and I've had some major accomplishments. When I really look back to where I was almost 3 years ago, and I see where I am now, I can't help but to feel proud of myself. I am able to make car and insurance payments -- by myself. That is a hugely personal victory, and it's something I am very proud of now, given that I lost my car to repossession in January 2011.
Today, I was able to kind of pick myself up after last night's bout of melancholy. I woke up to a text from my friend Ashley that she had a new Tastefully Simple customer for me. I spent lunch with my good friend Rachel, spent some time with my dad after that, and spent the evening with my brother and his girls. Today was the sunshine after last night's rain.
So, anyway, this ends my ramble. I'm starting to feel like Holden Caufield.....but at least I feel better. Until we meet again.........
One year ago today, I left England. I came back to the American life. I was once again separated from the love of my life and forced to start over. But I had a new focus: start the rebuilding process so that Phil and I could start planning our future.
The big D was priority #1. I filed for divorce from my now ex-husband almost immediately. Describing that as a trying time would be an understatement....not emotionally; I mean, I was completely over him. Trust me. I didn't know how the process worked, how long it would take, how he (the ex) would react...and I had NO money for a lawyer, so I had to wing it. I do have to say that the entire process was probably the biggest test of strength and courage I've ever endured. I discovered more about myself in those 2 months than I had my entire life.
Goal #2: Get a good job. I thought I had that with Avis, until I started to dig beneath the surface. Never would I have imagined being trapped...hook, line, and sinker, the way I was with that company. It smothered me in lies and empty promises, and I got to a point where I couldn't take any more. There's only so much strength one can muster each day in such a horrible work environment.
Hurdle #3: Immigration. We are on our way to apply for Phil to get his visa to come stay with me forever and ever and ever. This, perhaps, will be the single most difficult test of my life.
In just the few short months since I wrote this, I have accomplished 2 out of the 3, and we are mid-way through the 3rd. The title, "The Power of a Year" is the original title, but it really doesn't capture the scope of it all. It's been less than 3 months, and I've had some major accomplishments. When I really look back to where I was almost 3 years ago, and I see where I am now, I can't help but to feel proud of myself. I am able to make car and insurance payments -- by myself. That is a hugely personal victory, and it's something I am very proud of now, given that I lost my car to repossession in January 2011.
Today, I was able to kind of pick myself up after last night's bout of melancholy. I woke up to a text from my friend Ashley that she had a new Tastefully Simple customer for me. I spent lunch with my good friend Rachel, spent some time with my dad after that, and spent the evening with my brother and his girls. Today was the sunshine after last night's rain.
So, anyway, this ends my ramble. I'm starting to feel like Holden Caufield.....but at least I feel better. Until we meet again.........
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Losing My Way, Leading Me Home
Most of the sadness in my life boils down to one thing: I miss my husband. Phil is most definitely my better half, and my source of completion, and I simply just miss him when he's not here. There's nothing quite like being separated from your soulmate. I truly feel empty. Don't get me wrong, I have friends and family here, and I live a busy life....but all of it seems without purpose when I can't share it with my one and only.
Lately, I have found myself searching for joy in every day things. I am dipping my feet back into the fountain of music (slowly, but surely), I have taken up Tastefully Simple, I am trying to find the gumption to be more social with my friends and family, and I am blessed to have a good job with a great company...I'm really just trying to make it through, one day at a time.
I've done a pretty good job of letting go of the stress and worry surrounding the immigration process at hand. Carrying that around with me serves no benefit, but the curiosity and anticipation is enough to make my head explode. It just seems utterly ridiculous, the red tape we have to cut through. I'm doing my best to keep a positive, optimistic attitude about it, though. Again, worry will not make the process any quicker or any more certain.
I'm grateful that my mom has opened her doors to me, and I will never be able to repay her for all the help she has given me over the past couple of years. With that said, there are some days when I struggle with the fact that I don't have a place to call my own. It makes me sad that I'm 32 years old, and I am still crawling, digging my way up. I feel like Job. This is probably the biggest test of patience and/or faith I've ever encountered in my life.
In my room, I have a plaque hanging on my wall that I wake up and see every single day. It says, "Sometimes losing our way is the best and most beautiful route home." There has never been anything so true. Considering where I came from, and what I fought through over the past few years, I am on the right path to forever happiness. I just need to stay focused, remain patient, and keep my eyes on the prize.
Lately, I have found myself searching for joy in every day things. I am dipping my feet back into the fountain of music (slowly, but surely), I have taken up Tastefully Simple, I am trying to find the gumption to be more social with my friends and family, and I am blessed to have a good job with a great company...I'm really just trying to make it through, one day at a time.
I've done a pretty good job of letting go of the stress and worry surrounding the immigration process at hand. Carrying that around with me serves no benefit, but the curiosity and anticipation is enough to make my head explode. It just seems utterly ridiculous, the red tape we have to cut through. I'm doing my best to keep a positive, optimistic attitude about it, though. Again, worry will not make the process any quicker or any more certain.
I'm grateful that my mom has opened her doors to me, and I will never be able to repay her for all the help she has given me over the past couple of years. With that said, there are some days when I struggle with the fact that I don't have a place to call my own. It makes me sad that I'm 32 years old, and I am still crawling, digging my way up. I feel like Job. This is probably the biggest test of patience and/or faith I've ever encountered in my life.
In my room, I have a plaque hanging on my wall that I wake up and see every single day. It says, "Sometimes losing our way is the best and most beautiful route home." There has never been anything so true. Considering where I came from, and what I fought through over the past few years, I am on the right path to forever happiness. I just need to stay focused, remain patient, and keep my eyes on the prize.
Monday, July 15, 2013
My Heavy Heart Needs Answers
I have a heavy heart today. This weekend was rough on me, and I'm falling back in to a feeling of numbness that I haven't felt in a while. This morning, I started my day by posting a bible verse as my status:
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
I didn't quote the book, chapter, and verse, because I was really sort of just speaking it. There is someone out there who desperately needs to hear it, and they never will because they have decided to shut me out of their life.
Whether or not you are a follower of Christianity, I think it's safe to say that this description of love is pretty accurate for everyone. As I thought about this throughout the day, it occurred to me that you can't claim to love someone -- either familial, spousal, or neighborly -- if you don't possess these qualities of love.
I often think of what I've ever done to deserve the struggles I face. Every day, I wonder what I'm being punished for. For year after year, I have struggled financially. During my marriage, there was one point when I held down three jobs while my husband lay on the couch, dicking around on eBay. We ultimately lost the house, my car was repossessed (and he blamed ME for it), and he stole my tax refund right out from under me. I never got a fair chance to rebuild my life.
For the past year, I have worked my butt off, just trying to survive. I still have nothing. No car, no place of my own, no financial independence -- I don't even have a TV in my room. All I have are my books, DVD's, clothes, and my flute. I constantly teeter-totter on the idea of selling my flute, but I can never give myself a clear answer on which is more beneficial: keeping it or selling it.
For over 10 years, people have told me things will get better. My question to them is, "When?" How long do I have to fight for my new life? How long will it be before the "better" finds me? Sometimes I secretly wish I were on Undercover Boss, and someone would hear my story and decide that maybe I am deserving of a break. There are two people in this world who truly know 100% of what I have been through, and the other person would completely deny any wrong-doing to save his face. I am so tired of living penny to penny, paycheck to paycheck, day to day, struggle to struggle. I just need a break. A winning lottery ticket, an anonymous philanthropist, a trusting co-signer, a Joe Dirt situation where I give someone what's in my pockets for an old car to get me around....anything.
So maybe some of you perceive me to be materialistic and focusing too much on worldly things. My response to all of you is that you are not in my shoes. It's not wrong to want a few basic things in life, and I'm not greedy about it.
I am working my ass off at CarMax, and I am on a good track to make decent money. I am worried, though, because at any given moment, my one mode of transportation could be taken away from me without my knowing it. I'm terrified that I will walk out of my apartment to go to work, and the car will be gone. I'm desperate to get out from under that control.
I try to be patient, and I try to tell myself to take it one day at a time, but it's really getting more and more difficult. It must just be my life's destiny to struggle. Maybe one day, I'll be able to look back and find the reason why.
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
I didn't quote the book, chapter, and verse, because I was really sort of just speaking it. There is someone out there who desperately needs to hear it, and they never will because they have decided to shut me out of their life.
Whether or not you are a follower of Christianity, I think it's safe to say that this description of love is pretty accurate for everyone. As I thought about this throughout the day, it occurred to me that you can't claim to love someone -- either familial, spousal, or neighborly -- if you don't possess these qualities of love.
I often think of what I've ever done to deserve the struggles I face. Every day, I wonder what I'm being punished for. For year after year, I have struggled financially. During my marriage, there was one point when I held down three jobs while my husband lay on the couch, dicking around on eBay. We ultimately lost the house, my car was repossessed (and he blamed ME for it), and he stole my tax refund right out from under me. I never got a fair chance to rebuild my life.
For the past year, I have worked my butt off, just trying to survive. I still have nothing. No car, no place of my own, no financial independence -- I don't even have a TV in my room. All I have are my books, DVD's, clothes, and my flute. I constantly teeter-totter on the idea of selling my flute, but I can never give myself a clear answer on which is more beneficial: keeping it or selling it.
For over 10 years, people have told me things will get better. My question to them is, "When?" How long do I have to fight for my new life? How long will it be before the "better" finds me? Sometimes I secretly wish I were on Undercover Boss, and someone would hear my story and decide that maybe I am deserving of a break. There are two people in this world who truly know 100% of what I have been through, and the other person would completely deny any wrong-doing to save his face. I am so tired of living penny to penny, paycheck to paycheck, day to day, struggle to struggle. I just need a break. A winning lottery ticket, an anonymous philanthropist, a trusting co-signer, a Joe Dirt situation where I give someone what's in my pockets for an old car to get me around....anything.
So maybe some of you perceive me to be materialistic and focusing too much on worldly things. My response to all of you is that you are not in my shoes. It's not wrong to want a few basic things in life, and I'm not greedy about it.
I am working my ass off at CarMax, and I am on a good track to make decent money. I am worried, though, because at any given moment, my one mode of transportation could be taken away from me without my knowing it. I'm terrified that I will walk out of my apartment to go to work, and the car will be gone. I'm desperate to get out from under that control.
I try to be patient, and I try to tell myself to take it one day at a time, but it's really getting more and more difficult. It must just be my life's destiny to struggle. Maybe one day, I'll be able to look back and find the reason why.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Day One Learnings
I've always been a fast learner, but never did I imagine that I would learn something after only one day of budgeting.
First of all, let me just say that this meal plan budget thing really takes the guesswork out of shopping. There was no meandering, no thinking, no wondering if I should get this over that; there was just me and my list traveling down each aisle, selecting only what I had to get in order to complete the meals I have planned out for the next two weeks. I was such a good patron and stuck to my list, except for a few impulse purchases (chocolate milk and gum at the register.) I walked out feeling extremely accomplished, knowing that I had bought 5 meals worth of groceries for less than $70 -- including enough for leftovers. Of course, I had to take in to account the items I already had at home, but in my defense, that wasn't much, so I bought most of what I needed today. I felt (and still feel) so proud of myself!
But as I headed home, and was gloating to myself, I realized that budgeting helps you do more than manage your money. It helps you prioritize. This is going to sound really stupid, but I actually reflected back on my shopping experience and remembered thinking that I was only shopping for what I needed. Then I started thinking about the rest of my budget. I have my money divided up for things that are important. Keeping a budget for things like clothes, my crafty bits, and eating out has made me realize that I need to seriously consider what I want to spend before I actually spend it. It is making me realize that money runs out, and I need to focus on what is truly a priority in my life before I spend my hard-earned money on it. Lord knows (and so do most of you) that my money is earned whole-heartedly. My money has my blood, sweat, and tears all over it, and I'm slightly disappointed in myself that I didn't have this realization sooner.
When I was married, I had no choice but to watch every penny as it left my bank account, because I was the only one working...I was busting my ass in three jobs, and running in a hamster wheel for nearly the full 10 years. So, when I left, and started life on my own, I had a warped sense of financial freedom...thinking that I could spend my money on anything I wanted to now, because I didn't have to support anyone anymore. It has taken me all this time to realize that what I've needlessly spent over the last 2 1/2 years could have been cut in half, had I thought about needing it in the future.
I now have a large goal to reach in a short amount of time, and I regret that I have been so careless. I'm now trying to pick up my own slack and work as much as I can, doing anything I can, to meet my goal. My priority is spending Christmas with Phil. He is my prize, and my eyes are on it.
First of all, let me just say that this meal plan budget thing really takes the guesswork out of shopping. There was no meandering, no thinking, no wondering if I should get this over that; there was just me and my list traveling down each aisle, selecting only what I had to get in order to complete the meals I have planned out for the next two weeks. I was such a good patron and stuck to my list, except for a few impulse purchases (chocolate milk and gum at the register.) I walked out feeling extremely accomplished, knowing that I had bought 5 meals worth of groceries for less than $70 -- including enough for leftovers. Of course, I had to take in to account the items I already had at home, but in my defense, that wasn't much, so I bought most of what I needed today. I felt (and still feel) so proud of myself!
But as I headed home, and was gloating to myself, I realized that budgeting helps you do more than manage your money. It helps you prioritize. This is going to sound really stupid, but I actually reflected back on my shopping experience and remembered thinking that I was only shopping for what I needed. Then I started thinking about the rest of my budget. I have my money divided up for things that are important. Keeping a budget for things like clothes, my crafty bits, and eating out has made me realize that I need to seriously consider what I want to spend before I actually spend it. It is making me realize that money runs out, and I need to focus on what is truly a priority in my life before I spend my hard-earned money on it. Lord knows (and so do most of you) that my money is earned whole-heartedly. My money has my blood, sweat, and tears all over it, and I'm slightly disappointed in myself that I didn't have this realization sooner.
When I was married, I had no choice but to watch every penny as it left my bank account, because I was the only one working...I was busting my ass in three jobs, and running in a hamster wheel for nearly the full 10 years. So, when I left, and started life on my own, I had a warped sense of financial freedom...thinking that I could spend my money on anything I wanted to now, because I didn't have to support anyone anymore. It has taken me all this time to realize that what I've needlessly spent over the last 2 1/2 years could have been cut in half, had I thought about needing it in the future.
I now have a large goal to reach in a short amount of time, and I regret that I have been so careless. I'm now trying to pick up my own slack and work as much as I can, doing anything I can, to meet my goal. My priority is spending Christmas with Phil. He is my prize, and my eyes are on it.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
De-funkifying
I've been in a funk. A rut. A slump. You get the picture. I'm constantly trying to think how I can make myself a better me, one who is more well-rounded and generally happy. I decided a couple weeks ago that I'm going to make a lifestyle change. More than one, actually. I think one's lifestyle is composed of so many different elements, from health to finances to work/life balance to hobbies....
I decided that I need an overhaul in nearly every single area of my life.
Lifestyle Change #1. Stop freelance writing. Most of you all know that I was doing freelance writing for a web content company. While the larger assignments brought me a good little gap-filler between paydays, I was ultimately spending every free moment I had writing random content of which I had no prior knowledge. I wasn't talking to anyone, wasn't going outside to enjoy the summer...I wasn't even watching TV (GASP!)
Lifestyle Change #2. Get on a budget. I've never been great at managing money, and frankly, my ex-husband left me with nothing after the divorce. No house, no car, no money -- nothing. I'm a 30-something who has had to start from zero and climb her way back up to where she can survive while living at home with her mom. I'm extremely grateful that I have a place to go, and I have a job where I'm happy and am headed for greatness. It's just really tough to have to depend on people. My sister is gracious enough to allow me to drive her car until I can get enough under my belt to get one of my own, and I will never be able to repay her for that. My brother has been helpful enough to sit down with me and help me work out how to allocate my finances, so that I can save enough to go visit my Philly at Christmas, and enough to start the immigration paperwork. I need him here, and I can't wait for the day that dream comes true.
Lifestyle Change #3. Cut out the crap. I've essentially stopped drinking Coke, of any kind, and after just a few short weeks, I can tell a huge difference in how I feel internally, and how my skin looks and feels externally. I've gone from about 2-3 per day to 1-2 per week, which, when you do the math, is a huge reduction. I've started mapping out a meal plan, so that I don't have to eat out at work so much. I can divulge in my leftovers; it's a win-win since I love to cook.
Lifestyle Change #4. Hit the gym. For the longest time, I've felt guilty about leaving the house for fear of taking time away from Phil. But I got to thinking about it, and I know he wants me to feel good about myself, and he wants nothing but happiness for me, so why shouldn't I take a little bit of time each day to focus on me? My apartment complex has a small fitness center with 24/7 access for a small yearly fee, so come next payday (tomorrow, as a matter of fact,) I'm going to take advantage of the convenience and pay to join. I'm always telling everyone to use their resources, but it seems I never take my own advice. Well, it's about time that I do.
Lifestyle Change #5. Enjoy life. I've realized that it's okay if I want to go have coffee with a friend, or go to Uptown Art, or enjoy a day by the pool with my sister and my niece. I've made no secret about my passion for interior design, so I'm definitely going to spend more time fixing up furniture and trying my hand at making a few extra bucks at it.
Among these things, there are others that I want to incorporate. I want to read more, I want to blog more, I want to sing more, and I want to play more music. These things are slowly fading from my life, and it makes me sad.
I feel like I'm on track to becoming a new, improved me. I've made some small steps to get myself started, but my steps will turn into strides soon, and before I know it, I will be de-funked.
I decided that I need an overhaul in nearly every single area of my life.
Lifestyle Change #1. Stop freelance writing. Most of you all know that I was doing freelance writing for a web content company. While the larger assignments brought me a good little gap-filler between paydays, I was ultimately spending every free moment I had writing random content of which I had no prior knowledge. I wasn't talking to anyone, wasn't going outside to enjoy the summer...I wasn't even watching TV (GASP!)
Lifestyle Change #2. Get on a budget. I've never been great at managing money, and frankly, my ex-husband left me with nothing after the divorce. No house, no car, no money -- nothing. I'm a 30-something who has had to start from zero and climb her way back up to where she can survive while living at home with her mom. I'm extremely grateful that I have a place to go, and I have a job where I'm happy and am headed for greatness. It's just really tough to have to depend on people. My sister is gracious enough to allow me to drive her car until I can get enough under my belt to get one of my own, and I will never be able to repay her for that. My brother has been helpful enough to sit down with me and help me work out how to allocate my finances, so that I can save enough to go visit my Philly at Christmas, and enough to start the immigration paperwork. I need him here, and I can't wait for the day that dream comes true.
Lifestyle Change #3. Cut out the crap. I've essentially stopped drinking Coke, of any kind, and after just a few short weeks, I can tell a huge difference in how I feel internally, and how my skin looks and feels externally. I've gone from about 2-3 per day to 1-2 per week, which, when you do the math, is a huge reduction. I've started mapping out a meal plan, so that I don't have to eat out at work so much. I can divulge in my leftovers; it's a win-win since I love to cook.
Lifestyle Change #4. Hit the gym. For the longest time, I've felt guilty about leaving the house for fear of taking time away from Phil. But I got to thinking about it, and I know he wants me to feel good about myself, and he wants nothing but happiness for me, so why shouldn't I take a little bit of time each day to focus on me? My apartment complex has a small fitness center with 24/7 access for a small yearly fee, so come next payday (tomorrow, as a matter of fact,) I'm going to take advantage of the convenience and pay to join. I'm always telling everyone to use their resources, but it seems I never take my own advice. Well, it's about time that I do.
Lifestyle Change #5. Enjoy life. I've realized that it's okay if I want to go have coffee with a friend, or go to Uptown Art, or enjoy a day by the pool with my sister and my niece. I've made no secret about my passion for interior design, so I'm definitely going to spend more time fixing up furniture and trying my hand at making a few extra bucks at it.
Among these things, there are others that I want to incorporate. I want to read more, I want to blog more, I want to sing more, and I want to play more music. These things are slowly fading from my life, and it makes me sad.
I feel like I'm on track to becoming a new, improved me. I've made some small steps to get myself started, but my steps will turn into strides soon, and before I know it, I will be de-funked.
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