“Rockabye baby in the treetop…”

A co-worker (we’ll call him Charles) said something pretty interesting to me today. He said that I should have kids because I’d make a great mother. This was said following a conversation a different co-worker (we’ll call him Michael) was having with me. Michael was telling me all about how his son just got an Elf on the Shelf and how the elf made is first reappearing act this morning. So we got to talking about it and after I stopped to explain to three different people exactly what it was, he said that the only problem is that now he’s telling the elf that he really wants a dog for Christmas. Michael shared his frustration with me because he didn’t know what to do about this. They can’t get a big dog like the son wants because the son is allergic. And now he’s worried that because he’s telling the elf on the shelf this, he’ll think he’s going to get one. I simply responded with - Well just tell him that the elf is only allowed to report back to Santa to tell him if he’s been good or bad, that the elf isn’t allowed to pass on other messages like what he wants for Christmas. Michael was thrilled with this idea. He thanked me and told me that was exactly what he was going to tell him. You could see the relief in his face. And that’s when Charles piped in and made the comment that I really should have kids because I’d make a great mother. He said I’m crafty and creative like that and he can’t imagine it being wasted/not put to use.

It’s ironic because all my life all I’ve ever wanted to be more than anything else is a mother. I’ve always had a thing for kids. (Funny random story - I used to get mad at my mom when she’d refer to me as a “kid”. I used to tell her that I wasn’t a baby goat. I was a “child”. haha). Anyways, now with the majority of my friends having had kids and having more as we speak, I can’t say it hasn’t been on my mind. It’s hard not to think of babies when I’m buying stuff for baby showers or just baby gifts in general. It’s hard when holidays roll around and I don’t get to experience the true joy of it through the eyes of a child. On the flip side, the only responsibility I have is me. I can pretty much do whatever I want with my time, and I don’t have to worry about getting even fatter from a pregnancy (selfish, I know). Regardless, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I probably won’t bear any children of my own. I know. I’m *only 32* (almost 33) and it’s not too late… blah blah blah. I’m not saying NEVER. I’m just saying that I really don’t see it being in my future. Some days that’s a hard thing to accept, and other times it isn’t. Maybe I’m not meant to have any because I wouldn’t be as great of a mom as others seem to think I’d be. Maybe I’m better off being “Auntie” to my friends’ kids, better off being just a babysitter or person who stops by and visits than to have them fulltime as my responsibility. And maybe a relationship will present itself in the future and I will have children of my own. Or I’ll adopt. Or, maybe I’ll have the pleasure of becoming a step-mom to someone else’s kids. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I thought the Step-mom thing could happen (but that’s a whole other story). Or, maybe none of that will happen and I learn to get along without.

I don’t know what’s in my cards. I haven’t the foggiest clue as to what the future holds. I’m happy for all my friends and their own families that are being created, I really am. I also know that it changes the dynamics just a bit and that is something I have to learn to deal with. It’s all very bittersweet for me. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and He has reasons for doing (or not doing) things for reasons that are sometimes unknown to us at the time. As with anything else, sometimes you just have to take it one day at a time.

“That’s just the way it is. Some things will never change”

“The greater danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it” ~Michaelangelo

I don’t know what is true for me. I feel that more times than not, my goals are just high enough to feel like goals, but low enough that it’s more likely I can reach them.

Let’s start with school. I liked school, but I didn’t love it. Studying and retaining information was never easy for me - it still isn’t. I got good grades for the most part. But I never had huge goals of going to college. I always knew I would go to the community college in my hometown. I didn’t even bother to take the ACTs or SATs because not once did I give going to a 4-year college a thought. I considered it once when I was done getting my AA. I looked into the nearby college. I would have had to take two more classes to be able to transfer - Statistics being the easiest of the math classes, and a speech or English class (I can’t remember which). And that ended my proper education. Originally I thought I was going to go to school for teaching but then I got scared and changed my mind. Rather than continue on for a Liberal Arts degree I opted to take a different road for the sake of it being different, and I got my AA in Business. I had no desire to start my own business or to get into accounting. So why did I make that choice? I don’t know. By the time I was done, my gpa was so low it was almost a joke. I did graduate though with my two year degree. Whoopdee doo. I had them mail it to me. I wasn’t about to walk across the stage. To me that was a joke. It meant nothing. And from that point on it was full-time work for me.

Work was not a new concept for me. While going to the community college I also held down three part time jobs. One was at a candy store. I worked there in the evenings. But right after school I usually went home and for 2-4 hours depending, I would sit in my room and make phone calls for the Auction Company I worked with. I wasn’t selling anything, I was simply reminding them that we’d be in their neighborhood that weekend and give them the information they probably already knew. It was tedious, but I was able to do it from home because I knew the owners, and it was $12 an hour. So I’d do the calls, then I’d go to the candy store and work until closing. Usually I’d try to squeeze in some time to do homework in between. And what didn’t get done during the day, got done after the candy store hours. On the weekends I would work either at the candy store or at the auction location. The auctions, with travel time included, would be anywhere from a 12 -14 hour day. The money was worth it though. It allowed me to pay for my schooling. Oh yea, I also babysat two nights a week, and during the summer I was a nanny full-time while taking a summer class at school.

Anyways, I’ve gotten off track. Work. Sometimes you have to start at the bottom and work your way up, so that’s what I did. I worked for the Auction company full time after school was done. Then I continued on and worked three more jobs before I ended up where I’m at today. Am I exactly where I want to be? No. I’d like to go one step further. I’m not though. At least not right now - partially for reasons out of my control, and partially because I’m afraid to. I’m afraid of failure. It’s like college all over again, but worse.

Am I happy right now? For the most part I am. Have I accomplished anything great? No. But at least I’m able to put a roof over my head, and food on the table. I might not be able to afford big trips or a fancy car, but as far as basics go, I’m able to provide for myself. If I would’ve had a higher aim, a bigger goal to reach, does that mean I would be better off right now? Who knows. I struggle with the idea of having big goals and learning to just be content. Where is the line? I want to be content. I want to be happy with where I am and what I have. I think I do a pretty decent job of that. I’m certainly grateful for everyone and everything I have. But at what point do you say that being content isn’t enough? Isn’t that almost like giving up or settling? Like I said, to me it’s a fine line. Maybe it’s the reasons behind your decision that determine if it’s okay or not. For instance, the main reason of my wanting to go a step further with my career isn’t about the money. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that wasn’t part of it, but it certainly isn’t the main reason for it. If that’s the case, then wanting to set and reach that goal would be okay because the reasons are right - they are honest and true. But if it was so that I’d just have more money so that I could buy more stuff, then that wouldn’t be okay. My heart wouldn’t be in it, and odds are I wouldn’t be happy in the long run. Ultimately I’m very close to where I want to be. I can’t be upset about that. I’d rather be where I’m at now than where I was 8 years ago at a job I didn’t like, just trekking along for the work experience.

Low goals. High goals. I suppose it’s good just to have them in general. And maybe some goals aren’t meant to be reached. Maybe they are more dreams than goals. I suppose as long as I’m relatively happy that’s all that matters. You take the good, you take the bad… you marry them together and call it life.

“You know life is what you make of it… So beautiful or so what”

Something tells me this coming new year is going to be different. I don’t necessarily think it’s going to be a bad year or anything, but I do think it’s going to be different… and very ordinary. This past year, especially the summer, was jam-packed for me. I was constantly doing things with friends, going here, going there. But this one coming up… I have a feeling it’s going to be a very mellow, low-key kind of year. I don’t envision a lot of new experiences. Rather, I picture very casual days and possibly a bit more solitude. I also think this year I really need to come to accept who I am. I need to learn to be more at peace with where I’m at in life, and embrace the future ahead of me - whatever it holds or doesn’t hold. I need to learn to maintain the peace and happiness in my future, to keep it constant.

I also need to stay on course with taking care of my body and getting fit. While it’s been a very slow, hard process for me, it’s also been worth it. I have my good days and I have my bad days, but I think the good definitely outweigh the bad.

I need to get back the confidence I once had. I occasionally see glimpses of it, but I want it to be visible more often than not. All these aspects of my life need to mingle with each other.

In all aspects of life, I gotta just keep on, keepin’ on. I need to push forward and persevere.

“Cause I’m the one that jaded you”

Next month it will be one year away from Facebook. One whole year. And it feels great! The hardest was the first couple weeks but after that I started getting used to being away from it. I didn’t like how it was making me feel. I didn’t like how it was controlling me.

In today’s world, people are all about attention and self gratification. Everyone wants to be famous, everyone wants to be noticed. “Here, look at this picture I took of myself and posted for you all to see and comment on.” I’m not denying it. I fell into that category too. Then I realized that I’d rather be noticed by one special person than have the attention from 100 different people that really didn’t matter to me.

I got tired of finding out news from a Facebook update instead of hearing it directly from a friend. I understand it’s a convenience thing, but I think if you and I are really good friends that I deserve to be told first - via text, email or phone call - before you announce the news to anyone and everyone. The general announcements started to seem very impersonal. And if you choose to only announce important things on Facebook, well then, I guess I’m just not that important to you after all. If I was, you wouldn’t have to rely on social media to tell me these things. I still get people that forget that I’m not on it anymore, and that’s mainly acquaintances so it’s not a big deal. It took a couple friends some time to remember that I wasn’t on anymore. I’d get the “oh yea, you’re not on Facebook anymore. So when are you going to come back to it?”

I also left rather hastily… literally at like 11 o’clock at night or something like that. I did not give any warning. I can’t even remember if I did one last update to tell people. I don’t think I did. A lot of people thought I just unfriended them. I got a few texts within the first month when people noticed. I thought that was funny. There was no one event that suddenly made me leave. Rather it was something outside of Facebook, totally unrelated, and it really just made me want to cut ties with a lot of people just so that I could feel like my life was somehow simpler. For the most part it worked, so I can’t complain. I also thought it was funny when I was asked if I left because my ex-husband had gotten remarried and it happened shortly before I left the site. Lol. I guess he posted a picture from his Las Vegas wedding and people thought I saw it? I don’t know. He wasn’t even on my friends list. No. It had nothing to do with the fact that my ex-husband got remarried. (I wish him all the best and I hope life finds him happy - or at least happier than he was when he was with me.)

Some might say blogging is almost the same. To some I suppose it could be. But I generally don’t post pictures here. At least not yet. Perhaps in the future? And the majority of friends in my life *don’t* know about this blog because I don’t write here for them. I write here for me. I also feel I can express myself more if I’m not being judged by the people I know. It’s easier for me to be judged by strangers than by the people I know and care about. So the ones that *do* know about this place… they are the ones that I don’t fear. I know they won’t let what I write here, affect our relationship in the real world. They accept me for who I am. And the strangers that might stumble across this? They can judge me all they want. I don’t know them. Why should I care what they want to think of me. I’m not here to become popular.

I don’t use Twitter. I don’t use Instagram. And I don’t plan on going back to Facebook. I thought I might, but I don’t see it as being a positive tool in my life, so why bring it back. I felt like it was becoming toxic to me, and if something or someone becomes toxic in my life, I try to take that thing or person out of my life’s equation as best as possible. I don’t need toxicity. I don’t need negativity. I can see some positive points to having a Facebook page, but is it for me? No. No, it isn’t. And I’m okay with that whether you are or not.

“I’m walking on sunshine… and don’t it feel good!”

Often times before I go for a run I give a quick shout-out to God. I ask him to give me a good run and to be with me through it. Sometimes I ask to just be able to finish it, while other times I ask for no side cramps, or no knee pain. Today. Well, today I asked God for a really good run. I told him that I just *needed* a good one… better than the one I had on Monday. Talk about an answered prayer.

Its taken me about a year, but today I got there. I did it. I. DID. IT. I DID IT!!! Today I ran 3 miles… outside… without stopping!!! Oh my gosh. I did it! The first mile and a half felt good. I was running my regular pace (at least it felt like I was) and then I just went for it. Instead of turning in where my run normally ends, I went around to start the route one more time. Each time around is a mile and a half. By the time I reached about 2, 2 ¼ I was definitely slowing down to the point where I remember actually questioning myself if I could walk just as fast. But I told myself not to stop. I told myself that I just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the next. I didn’t have any side aches, I didn’t have any hurting knees. I felt my quads pushing themselves, and (because I was running so slow) my breathing was fairly under control. Then I started to get excited because I realized I could do it. I could reach my goal today. And oh my goodness when I did, it felt great!!! I am so proud of myself. And you’ll almost never hear me say that. I am though. I was beginning to doubt that I ever would reach the goal. But I tackled my fear. I tackled my self-doubt and I did it. And it felt amazing. It still feels amazing! I feel some muscle soreness and I’m sure I’ll feel it even more tomorrow. But what matters is that I can say that I did it. And the best part is that I did it all for me.

"Who can take the sunrise... sprinkle it with dew"

October is usually my favorite month. To me it’s fall leaves, pumpkins, hot coffee, and crisp, cool air, all rolled into one. It means you need to bring a light jacket with you if you go somewhere but you can still get away with wearing the occasional flip flops if you really want to. October also means Halloween - a holiday that for quite a while was my favorite. But this year I’m not excited about it in the slightest. I don’t even plan on carving a pumpkin this year. Heck, I don’t even plan on handing out candy to trick-or-treaters!!! That is so not like me, and I’m not sure why this is. It’s all so very odd to me and about as abrupt as this blog entry.

“Day, me say day O”

Every time I hear the Banana Boat song I think about the séance scene in Beetlejuice so the title just seemed appropriate.


Today is the first official day of my staycation so last night I decided to stay up (since I wasn’t sleepy) and watch four back-to-back episodes of Long Island Medium. It’s no wonder I woke up with a headache that won’t go away and a head that feels like it wants to explode from the pressure. If each episode is about 23 minutes without commercials, then you figure I probably did about an hour’s worth of crying last night right before I went to bed. I can’t help it. Those kind of shows always make me cry. I think it’s because I’ve always been interested in them, and would be interested in having a reading - mainly because I miss my Nana. I mean, even though I waver on the fence about the whole medium dealings, how can you not want to get just one more message from a loved one? Heck, it’s got me crying right now as I type this. And my Nana, being the woman she was, would no doubt be able to storm through! I have no idea what kind of a message she would have for me though. Who knows! Or to hear my Papa come through and tell me that he’s proud of me in where I’m at in my career. I know that’s rather silly because I know without a doubt that he would be proud of me. Or maybe my other Papa would show up real fast to just get in a quick “hey kid”.

I‘m not into palm readings. I’m not into tarot card readings tho I’ve often joked about having them done, and actually came close once but when I tried to go in, the door was locked. And when I called the number? No answer. Fate? I think so. But watching Long Island Medium last night… Theresa just seemed so down to earth. If I had the money to spend so frivolously, she’d be the person I’d want to go to.

I know it all seems a bit silly, but I just can’t help but wonder.

"Oh Mamma Mia Mamma Mia"

Mom memories

• A memory I have is sitting at my makeshift desk in the spare bedroom and playing on my computer. Yes, that’s right. Somewhere between 1984 and 1985 I had my very own commodore computer. If I’m not mistaken, my Papa had bought it for me because he thought I should have one. I had two or three games to play on it. I really only remember one. The other one didn’t work well because you needed a joystick which I did not have. But I loved playing this one game where you basically design a face. And the computer disk was very similar to that of an 8-track or an old school Nintendo game. Durable for my young age, thank goodness. Anyways, there is one specific day that stands out to me. I remember my mom coming home from the store and walking into that back room and handing me my very own Reeses Peanut Butter Cups!!! MY MOM went to the store and brought me back CANDY! That’s one very cool mom. This is also the same mom who let me pick Mountain Dew as my soda of choice.

• Speaking of food… I always had THE coolest lunches in elementary school. No really, I did. Whenever I wanted to buy hot lunch, I would be given money for it. But on the days where I didn’t? I’d have a kick ass sandwich of either PB&J, bologna, or Buddigs pastrami or chicken. (I think that was the brand.) I’d have a baggy full of chips, fruit snacks, and either cookies, a brownie, or some kind of ding-dong, ho-ho, or twinkie. My drink would be a fruit juice box drink - Capri Sun, Squeez-it, Hi-C something along those lines. No fruit. My other friends? A boring sandwich, chips, and usually an apple or orange. HAH. Guess they didn’t have as cool of a mom as I did. Every now and then my mom would write a little note on my napkin with a smiley face. I always thought that if I ever had kids, that I would do the same thing with them. Those napkin notes were always a fun surprise reminding me that she loved me.

• This is going to sound really mean but I can’t skip over the fact that whenever my mom falls, I laugh. I know I shouldn’t and it’s not that I laugh to be mean. It’s just that I can’t help it. When my mom falls, I laugh. I’m talking crying because I’m laughing so hard. Of course I’m concerned with her at the same time. It’s like when you hit your funny bone - it hurts so bad but you can’t help but laugh. My mom fell when I was little. I laughed. My mom fell into a bush when we were on our way into a restaurant. I laughed. My mom tripped on the step while coming in from the garage. I laughed. It’s still a mom memory.. Or memories. Even as I sit here thinking about it, it’s making me laugh. I know. I’m a bad daughter for this.

Okay, back to the good daughter memories…

• I don’t really remember my mom making cookie dough all that much. I want to say that for the most part she’s used the ready made stuff. But there are times I recall where she did make the dough, and at those times she would store it in a big yellow-orange Tupperware bowl. If she didn’t bake it all into cookies right away, the bowl would be “hidden” in the back of the fridge until she did. As a child (and even now) I have a love for raw cookie dough. It was very common that when my mom was making these cookies that I would ask for a bite of the raw cookie dough. I usually was good for a spoon or even two. But one night I just kept asking over and over for more. My mom finally took down a bowl scooped dough into it, sat me down at the kitchen table with a spoon and told me to have at it. She then followed up with “don’t come crying to me when you have a stomach ache from eating too much of it!”. I don’t recall feeling sick later that night. Perhaps my mom remembers different? I don’t really know. A lot of people would probably cringe about this - omg. She gave me something with RAW EGG IN IT?! Get over it. I’m obviously fine.

• Art projects. There is a saying that mom made notorious and it’s the saying of “I could make that”. I can’t tell you how many times my sister and I have heard Mom say that. “You know, that really isn’t that difficult. I could make that.” Now I should explain - my mom is no Martha Stewart. That’s not saying she isn’t crafty, but the reality is that as much as we heard her say this, we rarely saw her actually make all those things. BUT, I do have fond memories of things she DID make. Back when I was a kid, sweatshirts with ironed on images outlined in puffy paint were VERY popular. My mom made me one. It was a white sweatshirt and it had one or two teddy bears on it with a shamrock on it. It was outlined in green and it was my St. Patrick’s Day sweatshirt. I’m pretty sure I wore it all the time. I also remember a bunny I had. I think it was the dress my mom made for it. I sat it on my bed with my throw pillows for the longest time. I think she gave it to me for Easter. And then there was the easter egg project we worked on together. You took a balloon and then you dipped some kind of string into some gunk and then wrapped it around the balloon. It would dry and harden. You popped the balloon and what was left was an egg shaped creation. And of course there was all the pumpkin carving at Halloween. One year we even baked the seeds and ate em!

• Back to school time was a fun time as well. Looking back I don't know how my parents did it, but they provided for me abundantly. I will always treasure going to Mervyn's with my mom and doing school shopping. Then we would wait in line and put the items on layaway and I would look forward to going back and picking them up weeks later. My mom rarely told me I couldn't get something. I mean, it was all within reason, but what I mean is she always let me pick out clothes that I liked. She never tried to make me dress a certain way.

• I’m not sure why or how it started, but my mom and I would always hold hands in the car.

• I think it was in jr high that I begged my mom to let me get my ears pierced for a second time. It took some pleading, but my mom finally said okay... to one. Yes, one hole. We went to the mall together, and we each got one second hole pierced. It was almost like sharing a best friends necklace. Of course now that I'm thinking about this I'm wondering if I made the entire thing up about her getting hers. I know it's got to be closed now because I can't remember the last time she actually wore the earring there. lol.

• Another fond memory will always be of playing Scrabble. It’s our game. We play Scrabble and it’s pretty much guaranteed that we will laugh until our stomachs hurt and tears are falling from our eyes.

• As a child I loved to play dress up. My mom had this red one piece jumpsuit - a really dressy one - and I’ll never forget when one day she finally let me dress up in it. From that point on it was pretty much mine. I would put it on and then put on the high heels my Nana gave me, and I would walk up and down the hallway feeling as special as can be. I wanted to be just like my mom, and in that outfit, I was.

• When I was 15 my mom had the lovely notion to let me drive the Bronco. I’m pretty sure I didn’t even have my permit at the time, but it was in some residential area and for whatever reason my mom let me leave the industrial area parking lot and drive through that neighborhood. When I took a corner way too fast and nearly went up the curb and onto someone’s property, well, needless to say I stopped and we traded seats. I cried about it then, but I can certainly laugh about it now.

• I think the most special of memories though are the ones of all our shared birthdays. My mom and I share a birthday and when I was younger there were a couple times when we would spend the day together (she even let me miss school a couple times!) and we would go out shopping together and have breakfast or lunch. We always sing “happy birthday” to each other when others are singing it to the both of us. It’s something that no one can take from us. It’s something that is extra special and rare.

Growing up I always knew I could talk to my mom about anything. For the most part I think we had a good open line of communication. But as I grew older there were definite times when we did not get along. I have a lot of great memories that I have being a kid that include my mom, but I can also say that I have a lot more as an adult. I’m grateful for the fact that my mom is now someone I consider as a friend, too. She still knows how to get under my skin and push my buttons but I wouldn’t trade her for anyone else.

“I wanna rock n‘ roll all night… and party every day”

Maybe it just goes with the territory of the gray hairs that seem to keep on popping up on my head. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m in my early 30’s and no longer in my 20’s. All these years I always said that age is nothing but a number. I suppose to a degree, it is just that. But once upon a time I would go out on week nights just to hang out at the local coffee shop with friends and shoot the breeze. I’d stay up til 11 and wake up at 6. It could be that my work hours are throwing me off. I get up for work at 5:30 am Monday thru Friday so that I can be at work by 7. But I can’t just blame on my body on being tired because although that’s the case half the time, it’s not the case all the time.

It’s 8pm on a Saturday night. I just sat down with a bowl full of strawberries and blueberries - and a glass of wine that goes perfectly with it, I might add. I also just got a text asking if I wanted to go out and grab some dessert or something. No thanks, I reply. I’m in for the night. Once upon a time I would’ve jumped at the chance to go out like that. But now? Now I’m in for the night. I’m content with lounging on my sofa and watching something on tv, or reading, or sitting here at my table and blogging.

Could it be the company aspect of it? Most certainly. While the person who asked me out is a perfectly acceptable person, it’s really not that difficult to say no to him. So if it had been someone else that asked me the same thing? Well… let’s just say he’d have to be Prince Charming in order to have gotten a different response from me. Of course my other assumption is that Prince Charming wouldn’t have asked either because he’d want to be staying in as well. But who knows! After all, these are all assumptions, and you know what they say about assumptions…

I suppose I could sit hear and ponder why it is until I’m blue in the face. Perhaps it is simply because I’m content right now with where I’m at. I’m content at spending a night in - by myself - that is unless Prince Charming comes along, in which case I won’t be by myself ;0)

"These are a few of my favorite things..."

My list of recent happy things:


My mental health day today

Saturday morning coffee trips

Homemade banana bread that my sister made me (it’s delish!!!)

Once Upon A Time *finally* being available on Netflix watch-instantly. Now I can watch it all and be ready for the next season!!!

Getting to go to two baseball games a couple weeks ago and at one of them witnessing live, not only a Grand Slam, but getting to watch my team (the A’s) kick the butts of the Red Sox with a 20-2 score.

Going to Reno to watch the Hot Air Balloon Race. Even though it was cancelled on Sunday due to high winds, it was neat getting to see the Glow Show and see some up close.

Finally being caught up on Downten Abbey so that when it resumes again in the US (January) I’ll be ready for the new season.

Having a co-worker ask me if I had lost weight because she said it looked like I had, and that she thought I looked great. I needed that pick-me-up. 
Evening runs

Encouragement at the gym

Watching hummingbirds feed from my feeder as I write this

Homemade Tuna sandwiches w/pickle

Apricot tea and daydreaming

Peaceful, early mornings

"I need a little room to breathe cause I'm one step closer to the edge... I'm about to break"

Since the end of May, with the exception of one random Saturday, this is the first Saturday that I don’t have set plans. I don’t have to be ANYWHERE. Do you have any idea how good it feels? That means that of the last 15 Saturdays, 14 of them meant I had plans with a friend/friends. I could feel it starting to wear on me. Yes, I generally have Sundays to do whatever I please, but it just doesn’t hold the same as a Saturday. On Sundays I wake up early and go to church. Sometimes I go to my parents’ house after and visit with them, and other times I come home and do laundry and general cleaning. So to me, while it can be a day of rest, it isn’t the same as taking a Saturday to do nothing. The idea of not having any commitments to be anywhere is so freeing. Yes, I probably upset some people today by turning down plans. I could’ve had day plans with two different people, and night plans with another. But I had to hold my ground and tell them that I was sorry, but I basically needed a mental health day. And for this mental health day I am grateful.

“Open the eyes of my heart, Lord”

Sunday I was at church and while the service was a good one as it usually is, it isn’t what brought me joy. Even though the sermon was about what it means to be a church, the big factor I walked away with is that God loves reconciliation. It was a side note that Pastor Ron mentioned, but it’s what stuck with me the most. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that God speaks to all of us differently. Just because the sermon was on one topic doesn’t mean we’re all going to take away the same personal message. My message, though I’m not sure how it was applicable at the time, was that God loves reconciliation. Perhaps it was a gentle reminder that I’ll need to apply in the future? Maybe I’ll be faced with a situation where I’ll have to apply cease-fire, I’ll have to compromise and come to a middle ground with someone. Maybe I’m supposed to reconcile my relationship with Him? Whatever it is, I heard it. I heard it loud and clear.

The other note I took from the Sermon is that God is everywhere. Pastor Ron talked about what it means to be a church, and how it’s the community of people that all strive for the loving relationship with Jesus. In the very beginning he asked people to think about what a church is to them and then to draw a picture of it. “What does church look like to you?” I know he was meaning to take it literally, but to me, church is where the cross is. When I think of church I’ve always thought of a big wooden cross. In fact, I don’t think I could be comfortable in a church that didn’t have one inside. To me, church is where you are distinctly reminded of Jesus - That God sent his only son to die on the cross for our sins… for our salvations. Yes, God is everywhere. I often feel him surrounding me when I’m hiking or running… as I see nature around me. I see God as I look out my front door and watch the hummingbirds come to feed. He is in the beautiful sunrise and the spectacular sunset. He could be present in the way a friend touches you gently when you need comfort, or the way someone smiles at you and you see the happiness in their eyes. God really is all around us.

Often times I look forward to singing the worship songs the most. I sing the words aloud and even though I know I’m singing off tune, I look up at the wooden cross and I can’t help but feel God’s love. Sometimes God holds my hand, and sometimes he wraps his arms around me and asks me why I’ve been gone for so long. It’s very rare that I walk out of church without feeling something. As I’ve mentioned, I took two notes or reminders with me after leaving on Sunday. But the joy. The joy was found in the last song sung before we were dismissed. You’re probably wondering what song it was that had this affect on me. The thing is, it wasn’t the song exactly. It was the fact that as we were all singing, about two pews ahead of me was a little boy - between 4 and 5 if I had to guess. And as a good part of the congregation was singing and even clapping along, this little boy in his red shirt was clapping along like there was no tomorrow. He didn’t know the words, but you could see the passion in him as he clapped along off rhythm half the time. But he didn’t care. A couple times he stopped and looked around and then he’d suddenly start again. I know his back was to me, but I could tell he was clapping along with such fervor. I couldn’t help but smile. It was at that exact moment that a smile crossed my face and I was filled with joy. I continued to sing while I wore that smile, and was filled with joy… so much joy that I never could have imagined from what seemed like such a simple moment.

I can’t emphasize enough how important it is to recognize the little things in life that make you happy. Simple pleasures. Little things. Joy. Whatever you wish to call it or recognize it as, it’s those things in life that you just can’t put a monetary amount on. Whatever it is, recognize it and be grateful for it. Who knows, it could be God’s way of trying to reach out to you and communicate. He could be trying to open your eyes… He could just be trying to make you smile.

"I'll stop the world and melt with you"

I'm sitting on my couch folding laundry like a good little girl and I smell something. Then I catch another whiff. It smelled like someone had just blown out a lot of birthday candles. My first thought was - I know I switched fabric softener, but it couldn't be that. (I smelled my clothes twice to be sure.) Then I thought - I had plugged in my toothbrush to charge. Maybe there was a short? But then I stood up and remembered I had the dishwasher on. I walk over to it, opened the door, and sure enough - one of the tiny lids to a tiny rubbermaid container had fallen to the bottom and was touching the heat thing that produced heat to dry the dishes. D'oh! I had put the lids in before but was always apprehensive about it. Turns out I had every right to be. I'm just glad I was awake before it turned really bad. This is why I never turn on my dishwasher and leave the house. "Just in case." And now it reeks downstairs. Instant headache. I turned the ceiling fan on. I opened my front door. I sprayed fabreez. It still smells like someone turned 109 and blew out the candles.

"It's been one week since you looked at me..."

It’s been two weeks since getting my side tattooed, so I finally returned to the gym today. Oh gym, how I missed thee! And after two (maybe three) weeks of not running… I ran (outside, per usual). Yep. I ran a mile and a half but… I stopped to walk. To WALK. It probably didn’t help that it was 85 degrees outside and my mouth was so dry that I couldn’t swallow the nonexistent spit in my mouth, but I had to stop to walk for about 10 seconds. I know I should’ve been happy with my run, but I wasn’t proud. So my punishment was to ride the bike for 30 minutes once I was back inside, before starting my leg weight machines, etc. What made it worse is that I miss my running partner. He’s not allowed to run for a while because he got injured on a run. I know some people would say “just find another running partner” or “join a running group” but the fact is, there are very, VERY few people who motivate me… which means there are very few people I actually *want* to run with. So no, finding a new partner or joining a running group just isn’t going to cut it. Thanks, but no thanks. And as a side note - I think I’m going to invest in one of those water bottles meant for running with… the kind that Velcro around your hand so you don’t have to use so much energy actually gripping it tight. I realize I should’ve done this a long time ago while I was running in 90+ degree weather… but… better late than never? Anyhoo… it felt really good to work off some energy. I’ve grown to rely on the gym as a way to get my endorphins going just so that I’m happier in general. I have been in need of a good dose!!! The world is simply a better place when I’m regularly exercising. And with that being said, I’m off to go blow up my fitness ball so I can start using it, and then hit the shower - because boy do I stink!

“If you want it, come and get it and understand - you take me as I am”

This past week I’ve really been pulling from my inner hippie-ness. I didn’t shave my legs all week and I haven’t been wearing a bra. It bothered me in the beginning, but I think because my ta-ta’s have shrunk from losing weight, it’s been a teensy bit easier dealing with the no bra thing. It helped too that my mom reassured me that they didn’t look like they were down to my waist. Lol. Well it’s been 6 days like this so far and while I did shave my legs this morning, I am still not able to wear my bra yet. But that’s okay. I’m actually getting used to it. I find that if I’m wearing a tank top, I don’t mind it. And if the jiggling bothers everyone else, oh well. I’ve come a long way. I never used to be able to leave the house without a bra on. Today I ventured outside and ran errands. Yes, people. That’s right. I’m not wearing a bra, and those ARE my nipples. Speaking of nipples - on the flipside, it just makes me want to pierce my nipples even more. I know. I just grossed some of you out by saying that. I’ve only admitted wanting to do this to one person. I like how it looks when women have their nipples pierced and wear hoops in them. And if I had mine done now… well, I would probably be going braless more often in the summer time. Heh. Even though I’ve been going braless because I got my side tattooed last Saturday and endured just under 3 hours of needling, it doesn’t mean that I have the balls to go get pierced like that. I know how it felt when I got my navel done and that is not a sensitive area. And I’ve talked to a couple guy friends who have their nipple(s) done. I know it would hurt like HE-double hockey sticks. Not to mention I’d have to be drunker than a skunk and/or taking some good pain meds to endure the process as well as having it possible to get them both done at the same exact time.



To recap…

Hairy legs

No bra

Tattooed side

Talk of nipple piercing



Who am I?! I’m the person I’ve always been. I’m just becoming more comfortable in my own skin… both literally (as my tattoo heals) and figuratively.

"We all live in a yellow submarine"

Sometimes no matter how badly I want to sit down and write, the words just don’t come to the surface how I hope them to. Or maybe I’m just trying to write about all the things I’m not meant to write about right now instead of the things I am. All I know for sure is that I’ve hit the delete button far too many times this evening in the hopes of this being something worth reading. Clearly I am not doing a good job of that tonight.


So instead I shall go eat pizza, drink my glass of wine, and watch an episode of Downton Abbey. It’s the only logical step to take next. Right?

“Butterflies in the sky, I can go twice as high”

I finally started reading Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. I co-worker told me about it a few years ago and gave me the book to read. She told me it was a wonderful story and that if I could just get past the first couple chapters, it would be worth it.

In trying to de-clutter my world, I’ve been trying really hard to read the books I have accumulated over the years that are sitting on my bookcase before going off and buying new ones. I’ve made some progress, but lets be realistic - it’s going to take a while to get through all of them even if I am an avid reader. I’ve detoured a couple times, but mainly with borrowed books. I’ve only bought two new ones and I’ve read one. The other I’m saving as a treat because it’s a Dan Brown book that I haven’t read, and there aren’t a lot of those to pick from. Rest assured that when I DO read it, I will devour it rather insatiably. Even though Outlander is a borrowed book, it has been a book on my bookcase for a rather long time. The only problem will be that there are a few after in the series. Okay. No biggie. I’m sure I’ll find em at the library.

So back to what I was saying. I started Outlander. I’m only on page 69 but I think I’m going to enjoy it. It turns out that it’s a time travel book. I can’t help but laugh as I say that because never in a million years would I have thought I’d be reading that kind of book. It reminds me of my Nana. She loved those kinds of books. And I’m going to venture to say that because this book was first published in 1991, she probably read it before she died. If she were alive I imagine she’d be eagerly awaiting as I read it so that we could talk about it together. It’s a really neat feeling to know that I’m reading a book that she probably read. In a weird way it makes it seem like her and I are spending time together as I read it. To add to the greatness, the book pages are extremely soft. I enjoy feeling the book in my hands as I escape into the story, even though it’s a fairly thick book - 800+ pages in all (and that’s with normal sized font and pages).

Books really can be magical.

“Cause I’m gonna make this place your home”

I’ve taken a liking to watching The Property Brothers… so much so, that I actually dvr it now. I like that it’s about finding a home and decorating it/remodeling it to your taste. I know that fixer uppers can be A LOT of work. I also know that I have no capability of doing half the work that would be needed. Just because I’ve helped cut sheetrock and hold it in place while my dad screwed (nailed?) it in when my parent’s redid my old bedroom does not mean I qualify to do it all myself. Nor does it mean that I have the money to even consider buying a place! It does make me wonder what kind of a fixer upper I’d end up with if I had a reasonable budget to work with. I’d like to think that while it might not be my complete dream home, it’d be a place that I’d love anyways. I think I’d be able to have reasonable requests and keep the price low enough to make it work. Maybe if I start saving every single dime and stop doing everything, cancel my cable, cancel my landline, never go out, and live off of vegetables, I might be able to afford a fixer upper in about… oh, never. Lol.

Ideally I’d love a three bedroom so that I could have my master bedroom, a guest bedroom, and a craft room. I know I rarely have company these days, but I’d like to know that I’d have a place for someone to stay if they wanted to come visit. But I know I could get by with a two bedroom. I’d make it work like I make it work now. My main detail is that it would be a house, not a condo, not an apartment. I wouldn’t want to share walls with anyone else. I don’t need a huge front yard, and I don’t need a huge backyard. I wouldn’t mind at least a small space in the back where I can have two patio chairs and a small table. And I’d love to have a small patch of land where I could have my own mini vegetable garden. I think that’s pretty reasonable.

My dream kitchen would be white with splashes of yellow and teal (more yellow than teal). My dining table would have a rustic look to it and possibly mismatched chairs on one side and at the ends, and a bench seat on the other side.

In the place I’m renting there is an accent wall made of brick. I really like having that element inside. It makes it feel earthy and friendly to me. If possible, I would want an accent wall in my dream home too. It wouldn’t have to be a big wall, and I realize that it might now work in all layouts, but if it could work, a faux brick wall would be awesome!

I’m accustomed to smaller living rooms so mine wouldn’t have to be huge, but it’d be nice if it was at least the size of my current one. I would use all my current furniture because I love what I have. In fact, if you could relocate my place into a place that is a stand alone house, I’d take it. With the exception of a remodel of the bathroom and kitchen update (and floors). The size is just fine for one person. And since I don’t plan on getting remarried, I don’t need it to work for anyone but me.

Okay. Enough daydreaming. (See what that show does to me?!)

"On the good ship lollipop..."

You know how I always say it’s the little things that count? This is one of those times.

When I was a kid there was a cereal I remember enjoying. Some of you are familiar with the ever so popular Rice Krispies. Well, the cereal I’m talking about was Rice Krispies with marshmallows. Eventually Rice Krispies Treats cereal came out and the one with marshmallows just vanished. I occasionally search in the hopes of it making a great comeback. Well… I was at the grocery store on Monday and it just so happened I walked right by this….

So I bought it and tonight for dinner I made this…

   

!!! How happy am I right now?!

"Follow the yellow brick road"

I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore Toto.

I just finished whipping up a batter for homemade peanut butter cupcakes with chocolate chips… As in from scratch… As in no box mix was used at all. They are in the oven baking away as I type this.

This is the first time I’ve ever made cupcakes from scratch. I’ve made semi-homemade ones and homemade frosting, but nothing like this. I am a bit apprehensive about how they are going to turn out. I’ve heard the horror stories of people making them from scratch only to have them come out very dry. When mixing the batter it was not near as liquid as a box mix would have been. I realize that’s partly due to the fact that my recipe didn’t require water - nor did it require oil. However I know that peanut butter has oil in it, so my guess is that will help things out a bit. Anyhoo… I’m anxious to see how they turn out. Fingers crossed they turn out splendid.

I’ll be making the homemade peanut butter frosting before work tomorrow. Yes, I’m just a lunatic like that!

My favorite cupcake at Sprinkles is the one with peanut butter frosting. It’s so incredibly rich and delicious. If these bad boys turn out half as good, I’ll consider it a success.

“It won’t be long til happiness steps up to greet me”

I guess you could say that I have a Saturday morning ritual. I wake up, go downstairs and immediately open up my front door. I start making my oatmeal and then I sit on my orange flowered chair and eat my breakfast. There is something about the crisp, fresh morning air, the warm bowl of oatmeal, and the sounds of the world slowly starting to wake up that I absolutely love. It’s peaceful. It’s relaxing. And as of lately, it’s the time when I usually get to see one or two of my hummingbird visitors feed from my feeder.

I know that I have at least 4 hummingbirds coming to my front door. How do I know they are the same? Well, #1 likes to eat from the left, front flower opening. #2 likes to eat from the right, front flower opening. #3 likes to eat from the right, front opening but always buzzes right in front and then starts to sit but changes his mind and buzzes right in front of the feeder some more and then starts to sit, and repeats this one more time before he usually perches to eat. - even then it’s a quick drink and he repeats. I’m lucky if he drinks three times before flying off. And the #4 - well, this is my newest one. She’s much smaller than all the rest. I saw her for the first time this afternoon. She flew down, buzzed there for a moment and then rested on the feeder, took a drink and then decided she wanted a different view. So while staying at the same right, front opening, she moved her little body a little more to the right and finished her meal.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to like the location of my feeder, but it seems to work quite nice since I can enjoy the view from my chair. It’s also exciting to watch the red elixir getting lower and lower because so many hummingbird friends are enjoying it. Last month I had hardly any visitors. This month… well, this month they seem to love it.

Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had an interest in hummingbirds. I remember going to my great-grandma’s apartment and watching her hang her feeder. Whenever a hummingbird would stop by, she’d let me know and I’d rush to the sliding door to catch sight of it. They are just so magical. I consider myself lucky to know that I’m keeping the magic going strong.

It’s the little things in life… these fine moments... that I appreciate the most.

"Living in the Moment"

I had a great weekend. I had the kind of weekend my soul needed.

Saturday I spent a good few hours outside. I had a picnic in a cemetery. I know that might be creepy to most, but it wasn’t. Or it wasn’t to me. I picked the picnic that destination. Cemeteries have always been a tranquil place for me to be. Sitting on the blanket underneath the tree, thinking about all of the stories that are enveloped inside. To think of all the history laying beneath the ground. And to think of all the comfort that is drawn from visits. Even in times of great sadness, I think those feelings can come full circle there. Following the picnic was a game of scrabble played outside on giant cement steps of a school campus. No one was there but us. We were in the shade, yet it was still warm out. And following that was dinner and a long conversation of randomness. I didn’t get home until just after midnight. Good company. Good memories made.

Today I got up and went to church. What was different about today was the longing I had to go to church. I *needed* to go to church. I have been praying very hard for a friend of mine. I won’t get into details because it’s his story to tell (or not tell), not mine. But his sister isn’t doing so well. She's in the hospital and her life is very fragile right now. I can honestly say that I haven’t prayed this hard in a very long time. I’ve been praying for his sister. I’ve been praying for him. I’ve been praying for his family. I’ve been praying for physical changes to occur to help things go the right way. I’ve been praying for answers, I’ve been praying for miracles. I know that God is in control. I know that regardless of the outcome, He has a reason for all of this taking place. But that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with situations like this. So I’ve been doing all that I can do… I’ve been praying. I hurt for him and his family and everything they are feeling right now. I needed to go to church now more than ever because I needed to have my spiritual cup filled up again. And when I got to church, the worship songs were perfect. It was like Jesus was reaching out to me and telling me that it was going to be okay. He was going to give me the strength that I needed to persevere, not just in regards to praying for my friend and his family, but for my life in general as well. And as the pastor began the message, I sat there looking at the bulletin of notes and thought “eh. This one looks like it’s going to be boring. Bummer”. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. That message hit home. It was all about listening to God. And I mean really listening. Because he has a plan for all of us, but sometimes we need to focus really hard on Him and ask the hard questions and wait for the even tougher answers to come. I need to rely on Him that He has a master plan for me, I just need to listen (and obey). The message was wrapped up with us being encouraged to fast. Fast from whatever was grabbing our attention the most.. Food, tv, work, music, movies… whatever it may be, fast from it and instead use that time to focus on the Lord and His word so that we can try to see the path we are supposed to be on right now.

Even further irony was on my way to church I decided to listen to my Jason Mraz cd. Track number 2 is “Living in the moment”. For whatever reason I paid closer attention to the music and the words and it really hit home. I listened to it on repeat all the way to church. The lyrics spoke to me so clearly that I feel as though it’s on my life’s soundtrack. I’m listing the words below as well as including the link to hear the song. It’s going to be a part of my motto.

So now you see what I mean when I started off by saying that this weekend was exactly what my soul needed. I was able to get outside and just enjoy life. I've been able to be there as support to my friend and then go to church and be spiritually fed so that I can continue to try to be an encouragement to him. I spent the rest of the day with my parents. It was a truly good weekend.




LIVING IN THE MOMENT
By Jason Mraz




If this life is one act
Why do we lay all these traps
We put them right in our path
When we just wanna be free
I will not waste my days
Making up all kinds of ways
To worry about all the things
That will not happen to me
So I just let go of what I know I don't know
And I know I only do this by

Living in the moment
Living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home
I'm living in the moment

I'm letting myself off the hook for things I've done
I let my past go past
And now I'm having more fun
I'm letting go of the thoughts
That do not make me strong
And I believe this way can be the same for everyone
And if I fall asleep
I know you'll be the one who'll always remind me

To live in the moment
To keep living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home

I can't walk through life facing backwards
I have tried
I tried more than once to just make sure
And I was denied the future I'd been searching for
I spun around and hurt no more

By living in the moment
Living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home

I'm living in the moment
I'm living my life
Just taking it easy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
I got peace in my soul
Oh, wherever I'm going, I'm already home

I'm living in the moment

"I reminisce about the days of old"

Today as I was driving down the freeway, I caught a whiff of a scent in the air and it reminded me of a memory from when I was quite young (about 4 or 5). I thought I’d share that memory here, as well as a few others just for kicks. Because the first one centers around my dad, I figured I’d share “Dad” stories today. And then soon enough I’ll share “Mom” stories, too. So now it’s time to take a trip down my memory lane…

• When I was a little girl I used to love going to the dumps with my dad. Obviously being a child I was never allowed to get out of the pickup truck to help unload the haul, but that never stopped me from going. And I can’t really say that I went all that many times, but when I did, it was like a special treat. I remember I made up a game when I would go. As my dad would be emptying out the bed of the truck, I would be counting batteries. You would be amazed at how many batteries I’d see on the ground. So I’d count away until my dad was done, and then we’d drive away. I remember the bumpiness of the drive. I remember the seagulls in the air and on the ground. I remember there being a guy at the top directing you on where to go. I remember the smell (stench really) in the air. To this day, when I drive by the spot where you can smell it from the freeway… it transports me back to good times. The smell, as gross as this might sound, is a welcoming smell to me. I like it. In the summer I will actually roll down my window and inhale as it transports me back to those times.

• About the same time as me going to the dumps with my dad, I also remember being out in the backyard with him while he would be doing yard work. I never helped (even as I got older I somehow managed to bypass that one) but I liked to take his old big, black lunch pail (you know, the kind with the domed lid) and I would go throughout the backyard collecting ladybugs and putting them inside this pail. This lunch pail was to be their new home. I even took the liberty of putting a lot of blades of grass and leaves inside so that when I closed the lid they would have air… or so I thought. It was a bit devastating when I came back to check on my bugs only to discover that they were all dead. Guess that wasn’t one of my brightest moments at 4 years old. Lol. I didn’t mean any harm. Maybe that’s why whenever a ladybug lands on me, it tends to pee. One might call that karma.

• When I was in Elementary School I did a fundraiser for MS. I can’t remember exactly what I had to do - my guess is it was a run-a-thon with me getting people to sponsor me for x amount of money for every lap I completed. Or it’s possible it was a book-a-thon where I got x amount of money for book I read. Anyways, the point is, I earned two prizes for doing so well. I got a trophy and I also got two tickets to an A’s game. How cool is that?! I remember going with my dad to the A’s game. I was so proud to have earned them. I can’t tell you where we sat or who they played (I was only between 7 and 9 yrs old at the time). But I remember my dad buying me a sundae in one of those helmet cups. And we watched the game together.

• How many times did I wake up on Saturday mornings at 10am to the stereo BLARING. My dad would either be listening to a classic rock radio station or he'd be listening to one of his records. I always wondered why he listened to THAT. And then as I got older I learned to appreciate that music. Now I have all of my Dad's vinyl albums and I love classic rock. Funny how things can come full circle.

• My dad is not fond of games. Never has been and I venture to say he never will be. HOWEVER, there were two games I could usually get him to play with me - Around the World and HORSE. Many a basketball games were played in our driveway. I wasn’t that good. Obviously the shots I took were much easier for him than me, but he still played. It wasn’t about winning or losing. It really was all about just playing the game. I imagine he also looked at it as practice for him.

• My dad played on two mens basketball leagues. The games were always on school nights, but if it wasn’t a late game I was usually allowed to go watch. I started going to them when I was in 6th or 7th grade, and I remember still going to them when I was in high school because when I got my permit my dad usually let me drive us home from the game. At the games I would sit in the bleachers (often times it was just me and maybe a handful of other people). I would help my dad stretch just like my mom sometimes did. And right before everyone got on the court the guys would usually let me shoot a few before they warmed up. During the game I liked to keep stats as best I could. I’d keep track of the score and who made the shots, how many fouls, etc. It used to irritate me when the old man keeping score on the scoreboard would mess up! I would yell “BRIIIIIIICK” quite loudly when someone on the other team was shooting. I would cheer and clap. I would stomp my feet on the bleachers. It was great. Looking back it was nice that I was able to support my dad playing sports like he supported me in mine.

Two more memories and then I’ll wrap this up.

• Disneyland. I remember my dad taking me to Disneyland once, just me and him. I think I was 9 at the time. We were only there for 2 days I think, so it’s possible it was on a weekend. I don’t really know. I also can’t tell you why he took me there. I just know it was major father daughter time. We went on Star Tours (and my dad found out he could barely stomach the ride). We went on the EO something or other - it was the Michael Jackson attraction at the time. I remember watching the fireworks as we were walking out of the park. And I remember going into one of the Disney stores and my dad letting me pick out a souvenir. I’m not sure why I didn’t go for a typical Disney themed toy. Instead I picked out a rubber stamp with two geese on it with flowers and a heart, and a stamp pad that was tri-colored pink/purple/turquoise. To this day I still have both of them. It’s been a few years since I tested the ink pad, but it still worked last time.

• And finally, I would have to say my fondest memory as a teenager would be my trips to Mexico with my dad. My youth group was going down to do a vacation bible school for a week. It was all about playing with the kids and sharing bible stories with them as well. I told my parents I wanted to go to the informational meeting to see what it was all about. Turns out that when we left, my dad wanted to go to. I never asked if it was because he was afraid to let me go with the group without him, or if he just thought it would be a good opportunity like I did. It really doesn’t matter now anyways. What matters is that that was the first trip of about 4 or 5 trips that we would go on together. It was always during Easter/Spring Break. While we didn’t really see much of each other during the main part of the day, it was nice getting to have meals with him every day. It was nice being able to share stories of what happened during the day. It was great getting to serve beside my dad. It is something that no matter what, no one could take away from me. For those lone weeks, we were on our own spiritual journeys together. There aren’t a lot of people who can say they got to do that with their dad. I’m certainly a lucky one.

I’ll always be Daddy’s little girl. There is no greater man that I know.

"Happy Birthday to you"

Today is my Nana's birthday... is? Was? Whatever. I miss her a lot.

“Well there's a full moon in the western sky, and there's magic in the air”

I’m pretty sure it was the summer before 8th grade, though it could’ve been the summer before 9th that my dad took me to the county fair. My mom and sister were not with us, so I can only assume they were out visiting my Nana in Las Vegas. I don’t remember all the details about the day, but I do remember going on the swings. My dad went on them too, and I recall the both of us getting off after all the circling in the air and having to sit down on the nearest bench because we both felt like we were going to puke. That was the first time I had ever felt that way. I haven’t been on those swings since. I also remember walking around and looking at all the booths set up. It’s heavenly to a young girl. Backpacks, purses, jewelry, tie-dyed clothing of all sorts, homemade rickrack and unnecessary tchotchkes. That was the day my dad bought me the sunglasses that I HAD to have… purple lens glasses - think John Lennon style except I got the oval shaped ones that suited my face better. I was SO excited to have them. I even got to pick out a purple strappy glass holder thing so I could hang them around my neck when I wasn’t wearing them! Purple was my favorite color, they were very funky looking - what more could this girl want?! I wore them the rest of the afternoon and all the way home even though by the end of the day they were giving me a headache. (Purple lenses are not the smartest invention!) I learned to get over it though. Sometimes fashion hurts.

My next memorable trip to the fair was somewhere around the summer of 2008. My (then) husband, my BFF, and I went to the fair. I’m sure we walked around and had some food or something, but that wasn’t why we went. We were there to see… are you ready for this? BOYZ II MEN!!! Yes, they were minus one person from the group who had died, but it didn’t matter to me and my BFF. BOYZ II MEN!!! In junior high (and I think part of 6th grade) I listened to End of the Road on repeat. That was back when you could go to Tower Records or The Wherehouse and buy actual singles tapes. I had that one. I never went to a B2M concert though. This was my chance. We went to the fair, stood in line, and lemme tell you, we were fearful that we wouldn’t get in because of all the people there in line in front of us. But we did! And let me tell you, us white girls (who were definitely the minority that evening!) had an amazing, reminiscent night.

My next trip to the fair was right after my husband and I decided to separate. I had just moved out about two months before. I didn’t know a ton of people who lived near me, but there was one girl at work who I talked to who had mentioned that she went to the fair quite often to catch the concerts. I really wanted to see Uncle Kracker perform because it was his country-ish album. She said she’d come with. So we went. When we went, did some shopping, and then caught the concert while we hung out with her lesbian friends and walked around having a great ol’ time. That was when the rumor started that I left my husband for her. She was bisexual, though more leaning towards the gals than guys. We were just friends. I got a kick out of squashing that rumor. Lol

If I’m not mistaken, I went twice to the fair that year.. The second time being with a very good friend of mine. We went because we both wanted to go see Natalie Grant perform (a Christian pop artist). I don’t listen to a lot of Christian artists, but she is one I enjoy. It’d be cool to listen to her live and for the price (free with admission to fair), you couldn’t beat it. Since it was on a work night, we didn’t stay much past the concert, but let me tell you - it was hot that day, so before going in to the concert we decided to get margaritas. I’m pretty sure we were the only ones at that concert with an alcoholic beverage in hand. It was a little weird, but we didn’t care. Stare away folks. It’s hot, we’re thirsty. You just wish you had one in hand too! Once again, another great night!

Well, it’s that time of year. The fair is back. I didn’t go last year. I want to go this year if only to listen to Hoobastank perform. I don’t know if I will or not, and I'd rather not go by myself. I didn’t go last year either. I know between parking and paying for the entrance fee, food, etc, that it isn’t always a cheap visit. But I like walking around and people watching. I like buying enough ride tickets to go on the ferris wheel once and spending the rest on going down the enormous slide on a potato sack. I like splitting a funnel cake with powdered sugar on top (because let’s be real - eating a whole one by yourself, though it sounds like a good idea, will make you absolutely sick). I like walking around and seeing all the useless stuff a person suddenly wants needs. I like walking by all the carnies even though they creep me out. Some might think going to the county fair is hokey or a waste of money… maybe it is. But to me, it’s fun.

“Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks”

Today is an ultimate lazy day for me.

Bull Durham. Check. For Love of the Game. Check.

Oh yes, there is just something fantastical about a baseball movie that includes a good ol’ love story. It’s the perfect blend of all things wonderful.

Now the question remains… do I watch one more later on and make it a baseball movie trifecta? Field of Dreams would be a double trifecta because of Kevin Costner. But I could also watch The Natural, A League of Their Own or maybe something cutesy like Fever Pitch? Moneyball? Or perhaps I should just quit while I’m ahead. Sometimes you’ve got to know when to hold em, and know when to fold em.

“Me not working hard? Yea right, picture that with a Kodak”

Tonight I fully intended on blogging about something completely different. But then I got sidetracked and before I sat down to start typing I remembered that I needed to look at my running playlist to try and figure out how fast I’m running. (Yes, I realize it’d be just as easy to wear a watch.)

I run after work. I have a route that is 1.5 miles. I normally don’t run with music but my last two runs I decided to give it a try because I found some music that I thought would motivate me. And as a side note, I generally don’t run to music because then I can’t hear myself breathe. If I can’t hear myself breathe, I can’t try and keep it controlled. Running to music was a big test for me. Yesterday it was okay. Today was even better. I’ve found that in a way it’s helping condition me because I’ll be able to stabilize my breathing under the harder circumstances. Okay, so now back to my main point. (Believe it or not there is one!). As I was saying, I have my route. Yesterday I noticed it took my to about 3 songs and the start of the 4th when I hit a “marker”. If I had to guess I’d say it’s about 1.25 miles into the run, maybe a smidgen more. Well TODAY I hit that marker while the third song was finishing up with about 10 seconds or so to go. THEN the 4th song came on. When I pulled up my iTunes playlist and did the math… it appears I ran 1.5 miles in no more than 13 minutes… which would mean that I ran roughly a 9 minute mile and a 4 minute half mile. Or an 8 minute mile and a 5 minute half mile. Whatever the case may be, that means I’m running significantly faster than I thought I was. That also means that I’m getting stronger with my running. PROGRESS!!!

When I started running this route about 3-4 months ago, I was running it infrequently and (barely) in about 20 minutes. To think that now I’m running it in 13?! I feel like I didn’t do the math right! I guess it just goes to show what hard work, determination, and lots of support can do for a person when trying to accomplish goals. It certainly hasn’t been easy, but my motto has been “Slow and steady wins the race”.

Next up I’m going to start running a 2 mile run once a week in addition to running 1.5 miles the other 4 work days. Eventually I’d like to be running the 2 mile run twice a week. And then finally I’d like to work my up to running 3 miles twice a week at minimum. I know that is so far away. But with practice… why can’t I get there? Motivated? Why yes, yes I am.

It also seemed fitting that I titled this with the opening lines to my opening running song.

"Oh, oh, sometimes I get a good feeling"

Sometimes I sit here staring at my computer screen just willing the words to pour out onto it. There are times when I can feel so much passion and eagerness within, and yet I somehow can’t manage to confine my thoughts into paragraphs that make sense. Tonight is one of those nights. So instead of trying to make sense of it all, I’m simply going to share a few things I’m grateful for.

-- key lime pie

-- vanilla shakes

-- movie suggestions

-- gum

-- email

-- running

-- good smells

-- ginger ale

-- good books

And most importantly, I’m grateful for moments. Moments of all kind, big and small. It’s because of moments that memories are forever made.

“Reluctantly crouched at the starting line…”

I finally gave in and went and bought a big ol container of protein powder so that I can start having protein shakes post workout. I even bought one of those fancy schmancy cups with the lil whisk ball in it. Okay, okay. Fine. I bought two! One smaller one and one taller one. The smaller one is white and green. The larger one is my favorite because it’s all orange. Now I just need to keep working at it to get the body that goes with the people that typically drink those things. Lol. (As of right now I’m down between 15 and 17 lbs - So I’m half way there.) In a roundabout sort of way, I also think drinking one of these a day is also going to help push me to eat better. Hopefully it’s a win-win situation.

Anyhoo, it’s funny how something as simple as that makes me feel so much bigger in the grand scheme of things. And when I say bigger, I mean it in the “bigger and better” way. It’s like I’m a member of a secret society now… except that really it just means I’m drinking one measly protein shake a day in the hopes that it will trick my muscles into thinking they are bigger and badder than ever before. And now that I’ve said that, let me just throw in the disclaimer that I realize that’s not how it works. (Good thing only a handful of people actually read this because I can only imagine the kind of comments that would be left correcting me otherwise.)

I’ve got two people interested in helping me get my body to looking how I want it to look. One has offered to help me build up my upper body strength (which is practically nil at the moment). And today I received an offer to help me work on my conditioning by doing sprint work, etc. I’ve managed to get myself to where I am today (with the help of a couple motivating people), but I’ve held back on moving forward (go figure) because quite honestly I know how much it’s going to hurt. I can’t hold myself back anymore though. I’ve got to fight through the pain so that I can get stronger. I realize that I need people helping me with this, so while I don’t like asking for help or relying on other people, it seems that maybe it’s time to. What’s the worst that can happen? They fail me or I fail myself… and I am really tired of failing myself. So maybe I’ll give this whole help thing a try?

“Hush, hush, lay down your troubled mind”

The last two nights my Nana has been a part of my dreams. In Saturday night’s dream I don’t recall actually seeing her, but I remember feeling her presence. It would seem silly to most, but I knew she was there because not only did I feel like she was there, but in my dream there was cinnamon raisin bread in the pantry. Every other part of that dream was just weird, but when I saw that bread in the pantry - it was like a great big hug from her.

Last night I actually saw her face. I think we might have spoken (about whatever was relevant to the dream at the time) but I don’t remember what was said. The hard part is that she never stays long, and often times they don’t turn into a lucid dream until she’s gone and it’s too late for me to realize the significance of getting to see her again.

She doesn’t visit me in my dreams very often. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise as dreams of her normally make me cry. In fact I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t crying right now as I type this. Often times I cry in my sleep and don’t learn of this until after I wake up and realize what I dreamed and see that my eyes are puffy and I am exhausted. On the other hand, I miss her so much that it’s so comforting when I do get to see her, even if I don’t realize it until after.

I know the idea is that you dream about whatever was on your mind last before you went to bed. But when I have dreams with my Nana in them, it’s not because I’ve been thinking about her that day. It’s as if she knows I need her. Even if the dreams aren’t about anything important, her image is there and her love is there. I really feel like she’s my guardian angel. Maybe she knows I’ve been sad lately and she knew that even though it would make me cry right now, seeing her again would make it worth it. I don’t really know. I’m just grateful for them. I can’t dream about people if I try. And trust me - I’ve tried! So to have two nights in a row… WOW.

Photos and memories are all I have left of her… and dreams.






“Sleep, Angels will watch over you and soon beautiful dreams will come true” -Secret Garden

"The way your mouth feels in your lovers kiss…. Like a pretty bird on a breeze or water to a fish”

Right now I feel like my life is just one really long run on sentence I’ve got so many thoughts and emotions tugging at me left and right up and down forward and backward that I just don’t know where I’m at or where I’m going.

"Life's what you make it, so let's make it rock"

Collect moments not things.

Since moving out and going through a divorce, I’ve been trying to simplify and declutter my life. It hasn’t been easy because ever since I was a child, I’ve gotten attached to “things”. When I was younger I was quite the packrat - hanging on to movie ticket stubs here and there, or keeping items just because of the person who gave it to me. I realize that they are just things, but it still doesn’t make it easy to toss em.

Over time I’ve gotten better about not holding on to items. That’s not saying that I don’t, I’ve just gotten better and the items have gotten fewer. I’m more selective. I don’t keep every birthday card ever given to me, though I do keep some. I occasionally keep concert tickets (but that’s more to include in the scrapbook pages when I finally get around to doing them). But I still have a lot of “stuff” that perhaps I don’t need.

When I “spring clean” I have to go through my stuff slowly. I have found that emotionally it’s easier for me to get rid of things in phases. It’s funny because I really don’t like change. I like to have routine. But once I make big changes or I get rid of items, I always feel so much lighter. I’m not as weighed down. And it’s a GREAT feeling!!! So why don’t I just chuck everything at once? I don’t really know. I guess it’s all a mental game I play against myself. Maybe this go around I’ll try something new and give it all up at once. If it turns out to be too much then next time I’ll know and I’ll chalk it up as a lesson learned.

I’m feeling the need to lighten the load again and reorganize my life in general. It’s time to change things up just a bit and make my home cozy, but not overwhelming. It’s time to make more trips and buy less things. I’ve been trying to make more memories in the last two year and I think I’ve done pretty good, but I also feel like lately I’ve gotten off track. Maybe it’s the sunny weather as Summer approaches. Perhaps it’s realizing that the memories I thought I’d be making are no longer there and it’s time to accept that my life Is heading in a direction so completely unknown to me. I can’t begin to wonder what my future holds because there are so many possibilities. I want to be as ready as I can for the unknown. I know that sounds a bit ridiculous. I guess it just goes back to simplifying. I’m sure that doesn’t make sense to everyone, but it makes sense to me.

I know that memories can still cost money. But I want the memories that don’t cost money, too. I suppose I’m a dreamer in that sense. I want the afternoons in the park, the morning walks where time isn’t important and window shopping or people watching is. I want the trips to places where you walk around grab a bite to eat. I want the road trips to new places. Views from new heights. I want to experience life. I want to make memories. I want stories to tell when I’m old and gray of all the things I did in life. That doesn’t mean I’m going to give up my closet full of shoes. It just means I’m going to cut back on buying new ones. It means buying fewer cds and dvds (which I’ve already cut back on).

Life isn’t about the things you collect, it’s about the friends and family that you surround yourself with and the memories you choose to make with them.

"I'm feeling hot, hot, hot..."

I am not one who usually wants Summer to come fast. Fall is my favorite season, followed by Spring, Winter, and then finally - Summer. I prefer the cooler weather when I can wear jeans and a cute top with a pair of sandals, or jeans and a long sleeve sweater but no jacket. Summer. Well, summer means heat. And heat means sweat. Sweat… well, that’s just not always fun.

The last few days have been pretty warm out. I even want to go as far as say hot, but I know that it will get hotter once we’re really in the summer months. But the last few days have been hot enough for me that when I come home from work/gym, as much as I want to turn on the air conditioner, I haven’t. Instead I’ve been opening up my front door and opening up my window upstairs in my bedroom and letting it cool down naturally. When it’s been time to go to bed, I’ve closed the window and turned on my floor fan.

The first night I turned on my fan, I thought to myself.. Ahh, that feels nice. But it’s not just a fan. It’s my personal serenity device. Personal Serenity Device. That description is actually part of a quote from one of my favorite movies, one that most people haven’t heard of - Still Breathing.

It’s amazing how certain things can trigger emotions and memories. The other night it was the hot summer night and the fan swirling around the air in my room. It actually reminded me of when I lived in my teeny, tiny 410 square foot studio apartment. I did not have air conditioning. There were days when I would come home from work and there would be two or three dead spiders just curled up on the floor because they fried to death. I remember coming home and immediately opening up my windows and front door just to get some fresh air inside. And at night time I’d leave them just barely cracked (for safety reason being on the ground level) and turn on my floor fan (the one I still use). Well, the other night when I turned on my floor fan, those memories came rushing back to me. It was familiar. It was happy. It was comforting. I remember struggling to make ends meet back then. Oddly enough, though I’m making more money now than I did then, I find myself back there again. (Except now I’m in a bigger apartment paying more rent.) Regardless, it made me think. I was happy then. Life felt a little harder, but it was simple. And right now I’m in search of that simplicity. I want to be back where shopping wasn’t a priority or even a big necessity. Going out all the time, while I wanted to, I didn’t because I couldn’t afford it. My big splurge was paying $25 a month for the Blockbuster Rewards card so I could rent more movies. Anyways… it was summer that reminded me of all this.

It also reminded me of when I was a kid. I didn’t grow up with central air. On hot days you just dealt with the heat. During heat waves we’d close the drapes and blinds and turn on the ceiling fan in the family room and just hope that eventually it would cool down. Heat also reminds me of a family visit to Riverside. My great aunt and uncle did not have a/c (or if they did, they just didn’t use it) because I remember being there during a summer month and going to bed with the ceiling fan on, just hoping that it would cool down enough to fall asleep.

Summer nights are my favorite. When you can go outside at 8, 9, 10 o’clock at night and have it be a warm summer night. Mmm. There is just something comforting about that.

This year I’m hoping to embrace summer more. I’m hoping to suck it up and just deal with the heat. I’m hoping to use my air conditioner less. (I hate artificial air!). And I’m hoping to just embrace all my personal serenity device has to offer. I’m hoping to do the same with what life throws my way. I want that comforting feeling of happiness to envelope me.

"Baby we were born to run"

I get it. I get the whole “runner’s high” thing. Tonight I had one of the best runs ever and I feel like I‘m on top of the world!!! I won’t be going out and running a marathon anytime soon, but after tonight’s run, I feel like I’m capable of running further than I thought.

I thought the run was going to be about 1.5 miles but it ended up being just shy of 2. There were gradual inclines and the end of it was a definite incline. Looking back, when I was half way done it felt great. In fact all I could think about was when I would be able to go run again. I was almost out of breath when I finished, but I think I could’ve ran another ¼ mile at least. That’s saying a lot since I don’t consider myself a strong runner. But I did manage to run at a 10:40/10:45 pace. Had this not been the first strong workout I’ve done since getting sick 3 weeks ago (and still having a nagging cough), I probably would’ve pushed myself a little bit more. You can imagine my surprise though when I found out that I ran it at a decent pace (for myself) AND I ran a lot further than I thought I had.

Yep. That run was exactly what I needed. It was a new route. It was the perfect temperature outside. I even lucked out and had a running partner!!! Seriously, it was the PERFECT run. It was just the boost I needed to keep pushing myself more. I’ll be hitting that 3 mile goal in no time! And instead of dreading it, now I can’t wait.

"Monday, Monday"

My day...

Water. Throat lozenge. Green tea. Oatmeal. Water. Throat lozenge. Grape Gatorade. Throat lozenge. Grape Gatorade. Throat lozenge. Throat lozenge. Sudaphed. Chicken noodle soup. Tortilla chips. Grape Gatorade. Throat lozenge. Throat lozenge. Grape Gatorade. Water. Throat lozenge. Water. Water. Throat lozenge.(Are you getting the idea?) Oh, and let's not forget the very many pee breaks. I also

Watched three movies - Judy Moody and the Not Bummer Summer, Double, and Killers.

My throat is still on fire. I'm tired of drinking and sucking on lozenges, and I'm really tired of peeing every 10-15 minutes.

"I'm a redneck woman, I ain't no high-class broad"

Before I begin the intended blog, I’d just like to say that it took over 20 attempts, a restart of the computer, an attempt through Firefox, and an attempt through Internet Explorer to try and gain access to my blog before I finally gave up. I am now typing this up as a Microsoft word document. After I will email it to myself, open it from my iphone, copy it, sign in to my blog from my phone (which DOES seem to work) and paste it. Or, you could have skipped that whole bit and jumped in to read here: Texas’ computer is JANKY. (FYI – a blog about the word “janky” will be follow in the near future).

And now to our regular scheduled (albeit boring) program:

This blog entry was supposed to take a different direction, but I’m going to save it for another entry. So for now you get what I did today.

It’s Sunday. Texas and I went out to Starbucks for some lunchtime (morning) coffee. We sat outside in the shade and I enjoyed my grande extra-hot, no foam, vanilla latte while he drank his… well, whatever it is he ordered. We walked around the outdoor shopping center and then headed to Chilis for an appetizer (to hold us over til dinner).Unfortunately I woke up with a sore throat today and it hasn’t subsided all day. The germs now feel like they are invading my lungs, and when I cough, it tastes like snot. (How’s that for description? When I start coughing it up I’ll be sure to fill you in on the color. Haha.) Add to that 4 doozy mosquito bites I acquired while sitting outside of Starbucks and now you have a much needed trip to the drugstore. Off to the store we go. Tylenol Sore Throat syrup. Check. Halls Soothing throat and cough drops, Tylenol, cortisone cream and check, check, check.

I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining, but I’m not feeling good. However I tried to keep my spirits up even though my energy is low. The rest of the evening I sat outside in the shade while Texas grilled meat for tonight’s dinner and our meals for the week, while I sucked down water and throat drops. (By the way, the food turned out delish!). So as I was saying, I sat outside… are you ready for this? In boxer shorts with pictures of Hershey kisses on them, a very stained men’s white t-shirt, and a Carhartt hat that was slightly too big for my head and was covered with sweat stains (though the picture doesn’t do it ANY justice). Surprisingly I felt kinda cute! I felt like I was camping and wearing I-don’t-give-a-crap clothes. I was extremely comfortable and that’s all that mattered. I should also note that I almost NEVER wear shorts. And after seeing a photo taken from earlier, I see that I need to start because my legs are WHITE!!! Anyhoo, all I needed was a can of beer in my hand and I’d have been redneck complete, me thinks. I mean, I even had the US magazine in hand. Ok, ok, maybe I needed a few more stains on my shirt or just a camo shirt instead. A little exaggeration never hurt a blog!

We were going to play washers but between the grilling of the meat and my not feeling 100%, it’s just going to have to wait for another day. But that’s fine. I settled into my chair and continued reading my Runners World magazine.

I’ll be going to bed soon so that hopefully the cough syrup can kick some germ ass and I can wake up feeling energized.

Til next time…

"Push it. Push it real good"

I can’t really say that today was a bad day. Work went fine. I went to the gym after and when I left I was sweaty. When I got home I cooked a healthy dinner. I did almost all my laundry (one load left… for another day) and I even purposefully dried my Dockers pants to shrink them. Now they fit better!

I’ve gone from a size 14 to almost being in a 12. I’m really, REALLY close. Technically I can pull the size 12 pants on, zip and button them, but I might not be able to sit down in them comfortably. Or I might be mushrooming over the top a little. And it’s frustrating. I was sitting here on the couch and had my feet up on the ottoman and I saw all the fat hanging from my calves. (Yes, I realize part of this is called gravity). Earlier in the day when I was doing my “killers” at the gym (that’s what we used to call them in grade school), I was looking in the mirror to see how my legs were looking. And I distinctly recall thinking “wow, when I stand on my toes (like wearing heels) my calves look pretty good.” So you can see how this now all sounds ridiculous when I look at them at home and think “ geez, I haven’t done squat with my body”. That just tells me one thing. While I’m starting to see ever so slight results, it’s time to turn up the volume. It’s time to start pushing myself even further. I still want to lose some more weight, but I also want to tone up. I’ll always be a curvy girl, and that’s fine with me. But I also want my self esteem back. I want to feel confident with my body. And I’m not gonna lie, I wouldn’t mind if guys started doing double takes. Shoot. I’d settle for first takes! I realize beauty in a person goes beyond looks, but what’s wrong with hoping that someone out there sees me and thinks “daaaaaamn, she’s got a rockin’ body”. lol

There is a guy I know who goes to the gym. I’ve seen him there a few times, but usually we miss each other. Every so often I have the opportunity to see him though. And can I just tell you that he is amazing. I mean it. He’s my new inspiration. He works his ass off! He gets in this zone every single time and he just pushes himself. We both have the same goals of losing weight, eating healthy, and just feeling better in general. Are our reasons the same? Who knows. The fact remains however, that we both want it. But I don’t push myself like he pushes himself. Why don’t I push myself like that?! I need to. I need to have his drive and determination. It seems to constantly be there whereas mine comes and goes.

So as I was saying… it’s time to kick it up a notch and turn up the volume. It’s time to push it further and see what else I’m capable of.