You know those times when things seem to just click together? Maybe everything is not perfect, but life hums on at just the right tune that if you could capture it on your digital camera, you wouldn't delete the picture for a couple years?
Yeah, me too.
Except there is sometimes this little thing. Or maybe it's a really big thing, disguised as a little thing. And maybe it's not in your face all the time. Maybe it's like a snag on your favorite sweater, that if you just leave it alone and don't pull that one teeny-tiny little thread, your sweater would remain intact for at least six more dry cleanings.
Perhaps it's that if you pull that little snag, you might be forced to see the demise of something you really love.
It might not even be that black-and-white. It might be this wonderful shade of grey. Not so grey that it envelops you and and makes you forget about any other color. Maybe it's invigorating, like mornings along the San Francisco Bay. It might just smooth out the sharp edges of things you would rather just leave undiscovered and lull you into a false sense of security the way four-wheel drive does to Midwesterners.
But you know, you always know, that like all things unpleasant, it will surface. And no amount of pink frosting, or perfectly sized jeans found on sale, or sleeping in on Saturdays will ever make it less sharp. Less devastating. Less not there.
Little boxes, on the hillside
Little boxes, made of ticky-tacky
Little boxes, on the hillside
Little boxes, just the same
There's a pink one, and a green one
A blue one, and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same
And the people in boxes, all went to the university
And they were put in boxes, and they all came out the same
And there's doctors and lawyers and business executives
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Behind Stall Number One...
When I was a kid, I had a mild fear of public bathrooms. I remember willing my aching bladder to just wait a few more minutes on my bumpy bus rides home from school in the afternoon. I would run in the door, and barely make it to the bathroom. My mom always lectured me on holding it too long, but no amount of her talk could make me use the bathroom during school.
I've gotten over my phobia since then, and in the past year I have traveled pretty extensively for both work and myself. So, using public restrooms sort of becomes a secondary thing, and I don't even think twice to push open the door marked 'Ladies.' Once inside, however, I have noticed that not everyone is playing by the same rules. It appears that maybe men aren't the only ones who can't be trusted to follow proper bathroom etiquette. Ladies, I know you're out there...and I'm keeping my eye on you.
1. Do not peek through the space between the stall door to see if someone is occupying the stall. Sometimes that space is bordering on a full inch, and if I wanted my lady-parts on display I would call Larry Flynt. Try knocking. Or even checking for feet under the door. Or just waiting for a half-minute until I exit.
2. When using the air-dryer to dry your hands, please do not heed the advice of Outkast and shake it like a Polaroid. While I appreciate that the air-dryer takes some time to fully dry hands, I do not want to be sprinkled while you attempt to pre-dry. Walk a few feet away from me before you attempt to wring your hands of access water.
3. Wash your hands. Seriously? Don't be disgusting.
4. When there is a long line of women using the bathroom, do not take extra time to fix your face while people stand behind you waiting for a sink. The bathroom is not a place where I like to spend extra time, and it tends to get crowded. Put away your Wet-n-Wild lip gloss, and move it on out.
5. Pay it forward when it comes to toilet paper. If the stall you just left is out of toilet paper, don't let some unsuspecting mother with her tw0 year old wander in after you without a warning. Remember that feeling you get when you're all settled in, and then have to call out to some generous soul to spare a square?
6. Sometimes, the bathroom can get a little...seedy, and a hover situation is definitely in order. But be a dear, and clean up any toilet seat sprinkle that may result from your attempt to avoid crabs.
Lesson adjourned.
I've gotten over my phobia since then, and in the past year I have traveled pretty extensively for both work and myself. So, using public restrooms sort of becomes a secondary thing, and I don't even think twice to push open the door marked 'Ladies.' Once inside, however, I have noticed that not everyone is playing by the same rules. It appears that maybe men aren't the only ones who can't be trusted to follow proper bathroom etiquette. Ladies, I know you're out there...and I'm keeping my eye on you.
1. Do not peek through the space between the stall door to see if someone is occupying the stall. Sometimes that space is bordering on a full inch, and if I wanted my lady-parts on display I would call Larry Flynt. Try knocking. Or even checking for feet under the door. Or just waiting for a half-minute until I exit.
2. When using the air-dryer to dry your hands, please do not heed the advice of Outkast and shake it like a Polaroid. While I appreciate that the air-dryer takes some time to fully dry hands, I do not want to be sprinkled while you attempt to pre-dry. Walk a few feet away from me before you attempt to wring your hands of access water.
3. Wash your hands. Seriously? Don't be disgusting.
4. When there is a long line of women using the bathroom, do not take extra time to fix your face while people stand behind you waiting for a sink. The bathroom is not a place where I like to spend extra time, and it tends to get crowded. Put away your Wet-n-Wild lip gloss, and move it on out.
5. Pay it forward when it comes to toilet paper. If the stall you just left is out of toilet paper, don't let some unsuspecting mother with her tw0 year old wander in after you without a warning. Remember that feeling you get when you're all settled in, and then have to call out to some generous soul to spare a square?
6. Sometimes, the bathroom can get a little...seedy, and a hover situation is definitely in order. But be a dear, and clean up any toilet seat sprinkle that may result from your attempt to avoid crabs.
Lesson adjourned.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
And Now...
Edit: I have created a separate blog for my new venture. Check it out at: http://andnowforthedifference.blogspot.com/.
Whenever I self-evaluate, and think about the things in my life I would like to change, I find the answer is always the same. My weight, my weight, and my weight. In that order. Every time.
I've really struggled lately, and found myself sinking back into that same loop of desperation. Binge. Feel guilty. Purge. Lather, rinse, and repeat if necessary. And it's always necessary. I could say that I've done everything to overcome this, but that's not true. I think there's an ebb and flow to getting over something of this magnitude. I'm waiting for the ebb.
That said, I've been thinking of ways that I can better myself in the new year. I'm not one for resolutions, because I feel like there are plenty of ways I can accidentally disappoint myself. Why add to the list? But that's sort of the definition of self-defeating, and that's just not working for me anymore. So, as a sort of simultaneous thought-chain, I've been thinking about re-tooling this blog. I feel like I set out to tell my story, but that story unravels every day, and I'm finding that it's hard to be the narrator of my own movie.
Ok, so getting back to the original self-evaluation, and seeking to better myself. In sort of exploring the issue of changing my body, I usually wind up in the same place. Find a restrictive diet and exercise in abundance. Because that has totally worked the last 762 times I tried it, so why not give it one more whirl? Because. I said, enough already!
So instead, I have decided to embark on a new journey for 2009. Call it a resolution, call it a diet, call it playing with fire. But I'm calling it research. I think a lot of the issues I have had with food and the abuse thereof has to do with a lot of built-up pressure based on all kinds of information I have learned from the various diets I have attempted in the past. Should I eat pasta? Should I eat an apple everyday? Should I avoid apples? Should I eat after 9? After 8? After 5? Is it better to exercise in the morning, or at night? Should I use the 2/3 rule? Should I? Can I? Will I?
My project for 2009 is simple. I plan to attempt a new diet each month of the year, starting on January 5. I will follow the plan as closely as possible, and document my journey - what worked, where I struggled, how I felt emotionally and physically, etc. And you, dear readers (reader?) will get a front-row seat.
I know this may sound ridiculous. Why on earth would someone who has struggled so much with diets and self-image and food and exercise do something like this? And I'm not sure I have an answer to that question. I do know this. Taking on this project will allow me to focus on one thing at a time, so I won't feel the overwhelming wave of dos and do nots when I try to cram everything I have ever learned into a diet. Also, I have established some ground rules, so I won't be embarking on anything restrictive, overly expensive, faddish, or generally destructive. I've set these guidelines.
1. Each plan must include both a diet and exercise regimen.
2. Each plan must consist of at least 1500 calories a day. I have based this on my doctor's recommendation.
3. No plans that eliminate fruit or vegetable groups.
4. No plans that require mail ordered or prepackaged and shipped food items.
Since I'm still kind of working out the details of this, I haven't really decided what the determining factors will be for success or failure. Since weight loss is my immediate goal (with a broader and more important goal of health and well-being), I will be reporting any gains/losses at the end of each month.
I have a few options in mind for January's plan. I will be posting more details soon. Oh, and I would like to keep this blog as a sort of separate log of my journey. I still plan to write on other topics, so I'll be splitting this into two channels. Stay tuned!
Whenever I self-evaluate, and think about the things in my life I would like to change, I find the answer is always the same. My weight, my weight, and my weight. In that order. Every time.
I've really struggled lately, and found myself sinking back into that same loop of desperation. Binge. Feel guilty. Purge. Lather, rinse, and repeat if necessary. And it's always necessary. I could say that I've done everything to overcome this, but that's not true. I think there's an ebb and flow to getting over something of this magnitude. I'm waiting for the ebb.
That said, I've been thinking of ways that I can better myself in the new year. I'm not one for resolutions, because I feel like there are plenty of ways I can accidentally disappoint myself. Why add to the list? But that's sort of the definition of self-defeating, and that's just not working for me anymore. So, as a sort of simultaneous thought-chain, I've been thinking about re-tooling this blog. I feel like I set out to tell my story, but that story unravels every day, and I'm finding that it's hard to be the narrator of my own movie.
Ok, so getting back to the original self-evaluation, and seeking to better myself. In sort of exploring the issue of changing my body, I usually wind up in the same place. Find a restrictive diet and exercise in abundance. Because that has totally worked the last 762 times I tried it, so why not give it one more whirl? Because. I said, enough already!
So instead, I have decided to embark on a new journey for 2009. Call it a resolution, call it a diet, call it playing with fire. But I'm calling it research. I think a lot of the issues I have had with food and the abuse thereof has to do with a lot of built-up pressure based on all kinds of information I have learned from the various diets I have attempted in the past. Should I eat pasta? Should I eat an apple everyday? Should I avoid apples? Should I eat after 9? After 8? After 5? Is it better to exercise in the morning, or at night? Should I use the 2/3 rule? Should I? Can I? Will I?
My project for 2009 is simple. I plan to attempt a new diet each month of the year, starting on January 5. I will follow the plan as closely as possible, and document my journey - what worked, where I struggled, how I felt emotionally and physically, etc. And you, dear readers (reader?) will get a front-row seat.
I know this may sound ridiculous. Why on earth would someone who has struggled so much with diets and self-image and food and exercise do something like this? And I'm not sure I have an answer to that question. I do know this. Taking on this project will allow me to focus on one thing at a time, so I won't feel the overwhelming wave of dos and do nots when I try to cram everything I have ever learned into a diet. Also, I have established some ground rules, so I won't be embarking on anything restrictive, overly expensive, faddish, or generally destructive. I've set these guidelines.
1. Each plan must include both a diet and exercise regimen.
2. Each plan must consist of at least 1500 calories a day. I have based this on my doctor's recommendation.
3. No plans that eliminate fruit or vegetable groups.
4. No plans that require mail ordered or prepackaged and shipped food items.
Since I'm still kind of working out the details of this, I haven't really decided what the determining factors will be for success or failure. Since weight loss is my immediate goal (with a broader and more important goal of health and well-being), I will be reporting any gains/losses at the end of each month.
I have a few options in mind for January's plan. I will be posting more details soon. Oh, and I would like to keep this blog as a sort of separate log of my journey. I still plan to write on other topics, so I'll be splitting this into two channels. Stay tuned!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Your Exclamations Mean Nothing to Me
People who mark all of their emails as 'important' or 'urgent' are like the boy who cried wolf. After awhile, I will realize that your emails are only important to you. Not to me. And really, not to anyone else.
So then, I will answer your important emails after I've answered everything else. Even forwards from strange family members who I avoid during holidays.
So then, I will answer your important emails after I've answered everything else. Even forwards from strange family members who I avoid during holidays.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Is It?
I try not to think of what I would do if the unthinkable happened. What if I lost a member of my family, or my house burned down, or everything I had worked hard to achieve disappeared? I guess I avoid thinking about these things because I fear that I would just wither away and never be heard from again.
The unthinkable happened to Horatio Spafford. Several decades ago, Horatio lost almost everything. His business and home were destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire. Two years later, he sends his family on a European vacation, and his four daughters are killed when the boat they are travelling on crashes into another boat. When Horatio's wife notified him of the tragedy, he hopped the next boat to Europe. And what did he do during the lengthy journey across the Atlantic? He wrote a song. Not a song of lament, or anger, or bitter resentment. Not a song becrying the tragedies of the years past. No, instead, Horatio writes what is quite possibly the most peaceful and praise-filled hymn sung today, It is Well With my Soul.
I can't imagine the kind of internal serenity Spafford possessed to be able to write something so prolific at such a tragic time. I can't imagine having a faith so deep, strong, and all-encompassing that I would have the clarity to know that my soul was ever going to be ok. I wish I had faith like that. I wish I was able to take enough stock in something greater than myself. Enough that all of the minutia of the day-to-day details became just that. Details. So that everything of importance; my mind, body, heart, and spirit were saturated with tranquility. So that minor inconveniences, careless friends, or missed deadlines weren't enough to flush my cheeks.
I have a hard time with faith, mostly because I can't see it or touch it. Disappointment occurs more than fulfillment, and I just assume the status quo. I don't say this to be self-deprecating, but more because I am so baffled by those who choose to believe that it really is going to be ok. And not just for the next five minutes.
I wish it could just hit me over the head. Some life altering moment that causes me to take action on this faith thing and really feel the peace Spafford so fondly put to words.
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper thy peace to my soul
The unthinkable happened to Horatio Spafford. Several decades ago, Horatio lost almost everything. His business and home were destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire. Two years later, he sends his family on a European vacation, and his four daughters are killed when the boat they are travelling on crashes into another boat. When Horatio's wife notified him of the tragedy, he hopped the next boat to Europe. And what did he do during the lengthy journey across the Atlantic? He wrote a song. Not a song of lament, or anger, or bitter resentment. Not a song becrying the tragedies of the years past. No, instead, Horatio writes what is quite possibly the most peaceful and praise-filled hymn sung today, It is Well With my Soul.
I can't imagine the kind of internal serenity Spafford possessed to be able to write something so prolific at such a tragic time. I can't imagine having a faith so deep, strong, and all-encompassing that I would have the clarity to know that my soul was ever going to be ok. I wish I had faith like that. I wish I was able to take enough stock in something greater than myself. Enough that all of the minutia of the day-to-day details became just that. Details. So that everything of importance; my mind, body, heart, and spirit were saturated with tranquility. So that minor inconveniences, careless friends, or missed deadlines weren't enough to flush my cheeks.
I have a hard time with faith, mostly because I can't see it or touch it. Disappointment occurs more than fulfillment, and I just assume the status quo. I don't say this to be self-deprecating, but more because I am so baffled by those who choose to believe that it really is going to be ok. And not just for the next five minutes.
I wish it could just hit me over the head. Some life altering moment that causes me to take action on this faith thing and really feel the peace Spafford so fondly put to words.
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper thy peace to my soul
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Owning It
I was really excited to catch Adele last night on Saturday Night Live. Her songs have been the soundtrack to my commute back and forth from work for the past few months, and I couldn't wait to hear her live.
Adele definitely did not disappoint. She sounded as amazing live as she does coming through my car stereo speakers. What also impressed me was that she chose to wear a short dress. As a woman who sometimes feels like my breasts are the only part of my body worth flaunting, I was excited to see another plus-sized girl showing some leg. And you know what? She looked great. She was sexy without displaying six inches of cleavage, and she rocked the mic without performing some sort of overdone booty jiggle.
Self-criticism is a hard habit to break. I keep thinking that at some point, I'll run out of negative things to say and think about myself. That at some point I will truly stop caring about the way my arms look in a sleeveless shirt and how well my jeans appear to fit.
It's easy for body image to become an obsession. It starts with something small; a pair of pants fitting loosely, having someone comment that I appear to have lost weight, or even going to bed hungry. It doesn't take long before I'm counting every calorie, calculating every meal, examining each piece of food that passes in front of my lips. The problem is that it starts to feel so good. It literally and figuratively starts to feed itself into control. It's like there is this separate being that hovers over me and weights until the ultimate point of vulnerability. And then...WHAM! I'm trying on my skinny jeans every morning before work and eating little else than vegetables and peanut butter. All of this, only to come full circle within a matter of days/weeks/months.
This is my most difficult habit to break, and I think because it's so multi-faceted. There is guilt, coupled with a sense of responsibility for health, multiplied by my burning desire to be thinner, and then iced with the fact that I cannot escape my drug of choice. So here I am. In the now, and trying to just take it day by day. And today is not going so well.
There's never gonna be a moment of truth for you
While the world is watching
All you need is the thing you've forgotten
And that's to learn to live with what you are
So freak out if you wanna
And I'll still be here
Don't call me for years and when you do
Yeah, I'll still be here
Adele definitely did not disappoint. She sounded as amazing live as she does coming through my car stereo speakers. What also impressed me was that she chose to wear a short dress. As a woman who sometimes feels like my breasts are the only part of my body worth flaunting, I was excited to see another plus-sized girl showing some leg. And you know what? She looked great. She was sexy without displaying six inches of cleavage, and she rocked the mic without performing some sort of overdone booty jiggle.
Self-criticism is a hard habit to break. I keep thinking that at some point, I'll run out of negative things to say and think about myself. That at some point I will truly stop caring about the way my arms look in a sleeveless shirt and how well my jeans appear to fit.
It's easy for body image to become an obsession. It starts with something small; a pair of pants fitting loosely, having someone comment that I appear to have lost weight, or even going to bed hungry. It doesn't take long before I'm counting every calorie, calculating every meal, examining each piece of food that passes in front of my lips. The problem is that it starts to feel so good. It literally and figuratively starts to feed itself into control. It's like there is this separate being that hovers over me and weights until the ultimate point of vulnerability. And then...WHAM! I'm trying on my skinny jeans every morning before work and eating little else than vegetables and peanut butter. All of this, only to come full circle within a matter of days/weeks/months.
This is my most difficult habit to break, and I think because it's so multi-faceted. There is guilt, coupled with a sense of responsibility for health, multiplied by my burning desire to be thinner, and then iced with the fact that I cannot escape my drug of choice. So here I am. In the now, and trying to just take it day by day. And today is not going so well.
There's never gonna be a moment of truth for you
While the world is watching
All you need is the thing you've forgotten
And that's to learn to live with what you are
So freak out if you wanna
And I'll still be here
Don't call me for years and when you do
Yeah, I'll still be here
Monday, October 13, 2008
Flowers, Flowers, Everywhere
Dear People who Sell Stuff on Craigslist:
Laura Ashley is not exactly interchangeable with Shabby Chic. That flowered couch your mom gave to you before you left for college in 1996 is not vintage. Nor is it worth $50.00.
Sincerely,
Me.
Laura Ashley is not exactly interchangeable with Shabby Chic. That flowered couch your mom gave to you before you left for college in 1996 is not vintage. Nor is it worth $50.00.
Sincerely,
Me.
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