Monday, September 22, 2014

Gettin' Er Done!

     Life is not easy. Not by a long shot. Sometimes it feels like you're traveling up the same hill, over and over again, (a very  slippery, muddy hill), with a booty full of diarrhea. Sometimes it feels as if the easiest solution would be to, slide back down, take a poop right there at the bottom, and wallow in it forever. That's better than continuously failing right?
     I've been there. Trust me. I can't tell you how many moments I've thought, "Wow, this is never going to change!" The great thing though is, for me, those are fleeting moments. They pass quickly because I remember that there is nothing I can't do or have if I want it. Sure, I've failed, but I'm crazy enough to keep trying. Sure I've made mistakes, but I know how to move past them and keep going. The amazing and most inspiring thing as that for every moment I've had that awful thought, I've had a moment soon after where I looked back, amazed that I'd done the very thing I had doubted. Every. Single. Time.
     Here's the trick: As long as you keep trying something, anything, especially if you keep using different approaches, you can't keep failing. Can't get up the hill? Go around! The relationship isn't working out? Fix it (or move on). Diet keeps failing? Stop dieting and change your life style. Don't like your job? Start training for a new career.  The solutions aren't always easy, but there is always a solution. Just don't stop. As far as I'm concerned, there is no thing that can not be overcome, and frankly; I'd rather look like the fool clinging desperately to the side of a mountain top still reaching for my goal, than to be surrounded by a bunch of soggy-pants whiners sitting in the valley. 
     Whatever you are reaching for, keep striving for it. There is nothing holding you back but yourself. Get it done, by any means necessary. 💜

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Gifts

A lesson:

Once, my grandmother gave me a compact. 

It was absolutely beautiful. Cool, shinning, perfect yellow brass embellished with scarlet cloisonné sparrows. I had never seen one anything so perfect. 

At the time, it was probably 50 years  old.  I told myself that I would never let it out of my sight. That even 50 years from then, I would be handing it down to my own grandchild with that same illuminated smile stretched across my face.  

I can still see her pressing it into my right hand and as I reached up to clasp it with my  left, she leaned down and gently held my palms together with the compact nestled between us. "Take care of this", she said. "They don't make these anymore. It's very special, and I saved it for you." I stared down at the now warm gift in my hand and promised that I would. 


The years passed and the compact lost it's shine from being thrown into my makeup bag among my generic drugstore finds. Later the mirror inside cracked  after it found its way into the bottom of my book bag and into a gym locker. I shuddered a bit inside when I saw that crack; Remembering my grandmothers words and the way my heart had once leapt at the sight of those ruby sparrows glistening in my hand. 

Soon after, I remembered the shattered gift at the bottom of my bag. Stained, tarnished, and damaged from my carelessness. I decided to dig it out, and repair it the best my hands, now 20 and a bit wiser, could manage. 

I searched every bag. 

I dumped out every container, and even traversed my schools "lost and found" looking for that compact. 

It was gone.

 It's been 16 years since I first laid eyes on that gift. 12 years since the last time I saw it in its damaged condition, and 13 months since the death of my grandmother.  

I'm still not over my carelessness. My inability to see, respect, and care for my priceless gift. Now, I search every antique store, every yard sale, and estate auction hoping to find something as perfect as those enameled birds and their crimson eyes glittering  in a sea of gilded metal; and to this day, I have never seen another one like it. Not even close.

Some gifts, I suppose, are once in a lifetime. 💜

Monday, September 15, 2014

Shakeology: Day 1

Here's the rundown:
  I am lucky enough to have an awesome bf who left me have some of his stash. I'm glad he did because the price tag for one months supply is a whopping 147$! That's enough for at least 15 units of Botox. Which is enough Botox for... let's say a prepubescent boy. Ok, ok, it's not that expensive in the grand scheme of things, but still, that works out to about $4.90 a shake. It's steep I guess, but honestly it's about the same price as a Venti mocha-schmocha fat-ass in a BPA ridden plastic cup. Your choice. Whatev.
     Since the bf's sister is a beach body coach and shakeology distributer, I was able to harass her in the middle of the night for recipes that wouldn't make the shake taste like elephant balls. (I read some bad reviews on google,Mmmkay?). I mixed mine with one cup of light almond milk, half a banana and 3 ice cubes. The powder and milk were mixed for 1 minute straight to make the shake smooth. Then I added the banana and ice just until the shake was smooth again. It looked good. It smelled great. Then it was time to taste...😁
     *drumroll*
    I was actually pleasantly surprised. After all the online references to the tropical strawberry flavor tasting more like mammalian testicles, I was very afraid. Unnecessarily so. The shake was pretty tasty, and I didn't have to, (and I quote) "Suck it down like a mouth full of..."  (You don't want to know the test, and yes, someone actually wrote that). I digress...It was pretty good.
     I will update you tomorrow on how I feel throughout the day. Until then, enjoy your 6$ cup of high-fructose corn syrup. Cheers!

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Rocking the boat.

     Over the past few weeks, the media has been full of some very controversial issues. Mostly, I have been pretty quiet except In small social circles where I know I will not be attacked. While this merely sounds like a woman who is keeping the "drama" at bay; I call it cowardice.
     I spent at least half of my life being fearful of others opionions. Even when I knew I was right, when I was angry at an obvious injustice, or when I knew I should  speak up, I most often remained silent. Part of my fear came from years of desperately trying to earn the approval of those closest to me. I felt that if I was "good", quiet, and easy going, I would be loved. The other part came from wanting so badly to be accepted by my peers. I wanted to go with the flow, so to speak, I'm order to be part of the crowd. I didn't want to stand out or speak out in anyway that would cause me to be stigmatized of labeled. Sad right? The good thing is that I am no longer afraid.
     Years of insatiable acquiescence made me so angry and wounded. I was a shell of a person and could not love others because I was so fearful of their judgement and I could not love myself because I was ashamed of who I had become. A serious incident later changed  my life and stripped me of my silence (more about that another day). I found myself stronger an unable to keep quiet any longer. Thank God.
     The point is, we aren't all born brave.  It's far easier to keep quiet in the face of oppression and injustice because speaking out often makes you a target. I get it. I really do. I have just chosen to live my life being true to what I believe is right whether the people around me do or not. I can not stand by and witness the maltreatment of my fellow man and I will most certainly not be silent if I, myself am ever again a victim. 
     Someone has to rock the boat and trouble the water. Someone has to take the helm and steer in a new direction.  If we are to move forward, change things, and go places never before explored, we have no choice but to make waves. I have never seen still waters carry anyone anywhere. 



     

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Holiday weight gain: sigh

     So it's the day after the Labor Day week end and I can't tell you how guilty (and large I feel). I know what you're thinking: "how bad could it have really been?" Let me tell ya, it was baaaaadd. I probably consumed the equivalent of at LEAST 2 pounds. It started with a slice of pizza...and ended with, well, I don't wanna say, but it involved a lit crimson sign that read: "Hot And Ready".
And I was...
     I'm not even weighing myself because the agony of seeing the scale inch up a bit might be enough to drive me insane and further fuel my weekend debauchery.   Instead, I'm choosing to employ a few methods to help shed the awful fat I fear I've gained. 
1. I'll be receiving my vitamin B injection to help energy.
2. Continuing to take my ACE supplement
3. Working out (which I haven't done in months.
Don't judge me. 
Update soon...

On a lighter note; I wore a bikini in public for the first time EVER! I wasn't perfect but I was very proud!  
Here are my current stats:
1. 5' 10"
2. 140 pounds
3. No exercise (I know, I know)
4. Taking ACE supplements