funk

 
Some pages from my diary when I was a 17 year old Senior. I was having a really good day that day. Excerpt: "I'm happy. Not every second, but a majority of the time. That's good."

I'd marked out the date because I'd "pre-dated" every page when I first received the diary as a gift from my Pen-Pal in Manchester, England. The "Dear Diary" is written in 12 year old never-been-kissed handwriting. This particular entry was written with the handwriting of someone who "felt so grown up for only being 17..." At that point in my life my heart had been broken twice. Pretty painfully.

I remember thinking to myself at the time I was a pretty "deep" person. I read Kurt Vonnegut and Shakespeare, I'd traveled thoughout Europe with friends, I could speak French, etc. This is a quote that makes me grin: "In a way I'm looking forward to the future, and in another way I'm sad to leave the present. But - my fear of the unknown isn't as bad as my fear of never knowing the unknown. I'm going to make it in this world."

I kept a diary pretty faithfully from the time I was 12 until I was 22. I'm always amazed at how long I've been riding emotional roller-coasters.

I'm having one of those days where I'm feeling like a failure. One thing piles on top of another, and before you know it I'm in the dumps. I've got a meeting Saturday that has me nervous. I'm supposed to give a report on my Committee. Thousands of newsletters have gone out with the following plea (I'm paraphrasing here due to laziness): "Are you computer savvy? Do you like working with technical stuff? Great! I'd love for you to serve on my committee. Please call me at blah-de-blah number, or e-mail me at blah-de-blah."

I've gotten no replies. Zilch. Nothing. There have been more people comment on this site, saying they'd be happy to help, than anyone in the Hampton Roads area. Unfortunately I need warm bodies to occupy chairs at my meetings. So far three people who've served before have agreed to be on the committee. I need 8.

Normal people would shrug it off, and not take this personally. Me? I feel like the geeky 9th grader who just got off the phone with Mike. The big R. Rejection. (Sidenote: I should probably contact the therapist again. This is ridiculous.) When I was 14 I was at a pretty awkward stage. (I know I'm not the only one.) Tall, skinny, long mousy brown hair, glasses. Your typical geek. Anyway, I was on the phone with Mike - someone I'd considered a good friend. Near the end of our conversation I realized he thought he was talking to my best friend. He commented, "I like talking to you. You're really cute, unlike your friend. Those glasses make her look really ugly, and she's kind of goofy." I think he laughed, and I got tears in my eyes, then I managed to mumble something along the lines of ".... yeah, well - I've got to go. My Mom's calling me." I never told him about the mix-up. The next summer I physically blossomed. I got curvy - my long legs were shapely - I had breasts - I'd gotten contact lenses. I began to receive what I felt was positive attention. I really didn't know how to accept it. I'm still bad at it. (Sidenote: Mike eventually asked me out. I said no.)

So. Here I am today, still feeling the pangs of "no one wants to play with me." It's raining, it's cold, and I am [appropriately] dressed in black. I can feel that vicious circle spinning around in my head. You're afraid to stick your neck out, but if you don't, then you'll never know if you can succeed. You end up sticking your neck out, and you end up feeling like nothing. A sorry little zero. You end up questioning all of the other things you try to do well. Where did my sunshine and blue skies go? Of course there's more to it than just a silly committee.

I beat myself up to a bloody pulp. I try to look at the bright side. I haven't had a drink since Saturday night, and I don't miss it nearly as much as I feared I would. I've kicked that crutch, at least.

When I look at the big picture, I realize I'm much happier than I've been in several years, but there's still these sorts of days lurking around the corner - skulking the girl with the sunny disposition.

P.S. This is kind of an awkward segue, but for the all of the baseball fans in Dallas (or fan's in general), my good (and quite talented) friend Devin is getting ready to launch a spiffy new site ~ Dallas Baseball Home. Go say howdy, or play ball, or whatever it is you baseball fans say, or talk about.

Later~ I forgot to add that I'm sorry for being such a downer. I'll get my ass back in shape. I'll snap out of it.

I just need to have a good cry. A good cry, and a really good massage. I've had this nagging pinched nerve in my neck-area that makes me feel like there's a sharp object poking into my skull via my right eye. Not the best feeling in the world.

so, i was reading a few things on the men's fitness site...

1. I'm an arms, hands, and legs kind of gal. (A nice mouth and eyes are tops, though.)

The most important thing is a man that takes care of himself for the right reasons.

2. ? No. 1 cracked me up.. Cheating? Please. I would've reacted much differently...

3. There are some fit people living in Virginia Beach. (They don't watch television.) Interesting tidbit ~ there are v. few donuts here. Homer would hate this place. Since living here my habits have become much more healthy. Just this morning I did this insane Power Pilates thing, and there were a few times I thought I was going to die. Maybe I just wished it. I would've rather had a donut. I had strawberries and blueberries instead. :-/

and....

so, i was reading david's site...

This is driving me nuts. Name some truly flawless albums. I've got c.d.'s that seem to stay in heavy rotation. They stay there because I rarely have to skip over a single song. Of course this is one of those "in the eye of the beholder" issues.

That's about it for today.

i'm so not money

I hate feeling like I've wasted an entire day of my life, and that's exactly what happened yesterday.

It wasn't even my fault.

Saturday night I never, ever had an empty glass of wine. We went over to Alison and Mark's for drinks/snacks prior to going to Hot Tuna to see the band. As soon as I'd take the last sip from my glass of wine, Alison was sneaking off behind me, refilling my glass, and then quietly rejoining the conversation. We all got caught up in one of those conversations where you lose track of time, so we ended up not getting to the club until 11:00 p.m. It was packed full of throngs of screaming groupies women. (For some reason these guys really attract the ladies. D. loved this because he got groped when he'd go from the stage back to the bar. He told me ~ "Hey, the ladies are pinching my butt." I smiled at said "Congratulations. Enjoy yourself.")

Anyway - so - I put my purse behind an amp on stage, and drink (yet another) glass of wine. It was packed, and I was getting tipsier by the minute, so I thought it would be fun to position myself in front of this guy that was really getting into this song. I wanted to see if he noticed he was rubbing up against my backside (evidently this was my fun, new, spontaneous tipsy bar game.) People kept disappearing, and then reappearing bringing me drinks. I stayed behind the mixing-board-dude the whole time, dancing in my tiny little space, kicking pieces of broken bottle across the tile floor with the tip of my boot. At one point D. made me spill half a glass of wine down the front of my shirt (it was white wine, thank goodness), and I got a little pouty. Alison brought me another glass of wine, and we made our way through the tiny t-shirts and low-waist jeans-clad crowd to the restroom. This is where I realized I was well past the point of "tipsy". "F*ck-it", I thought to myself as I refastened my belt. "I'm going to leave this bottom snap undone of my blouse so everyone can see my tummy! How does my ass look? Awwwyeah. There's my cute [drunk] ass and tummy..."

We made our way through the crowd back to our "spot", and girls are high-fiving me. I don't remember why, and I think I'm glad I don't. I sing along to Sex Type Thing, and Man in the Box, and then I got to that really excited/goofy stage where you're just one sip away from getting on stage and singing along because you hear the opening riff of that song. Someone else beat me to it. Thank God.

I think I requested Frank Sinatra. That sounds like something I'd do. By the end of their set I was at the "take me drunk I'm home" stage. I'm not a party girl, and I was suddenly very tired, and I knew I needed to go home. Alison and Mark were heading out, and I turned to find D. at the bar, paying for more drinks. We found a table, sat down, and looked at the light fixtures. I think I demonstrated my dance to moves to this tune.

We got in the car to come home, and I polished off the rest of the wine in my "roadie" cup. We got home at 2:00 a.m., D. went to bed, and I decided to cook bacon. I made it to bed a little before 3:00 a.m., which is v. late for me. When I got up at 6:00 a.m. to get some Excedrin I cracked myself up because I noticed all this cooked bacon lined up on a paper towel. I went back to bed, and proceeded to spend the entire day in a fog. I watched the Sunday night shows (Soprano's was good, as usual), and fell asleep, then woke up, then fell asleep again.

I feel much better today, but I know my limitations, and if I'm going to be going out like this again I'm sticking to Diet Coke with Lime (my new favorite thing.) I don't like being that drunk. Who am I kidding? I don't like being drunk at all. Comfortably tipsy, sure. Why not?

It's a cold, gray Monday, and I've got wicked cramps. I managed to make it through another rough Pilates session, which seems to help the cramps, but I'm really not in the best of moods. When will we get more than two days of nice Spring weather??

p.s. I lost St. Joe's from the final four picks, but I've still got Duke and Georgia Tech. I'm ready for March Madness to end.

Later ~ I just got off the phone with N. - I've got to make a presentation at a meeting at the American Cancer Society's offices Saturday morning around 8:30 a.m. There will not be any shenanigans Friday night for me, mister.

it's a beautiful day

I don't normally do this (post lyrics), but I listened to this song earlier, and - well - yeah - it made me all smiley, and happy, and I sang along, and it felt really swell. If I had the mp3 I'd pass it along to all of you so that you could sing along as well. (Sidenote: I've always liked ELO, but they're one of those bands that I've always seemed to like but never got around to purchasing any of their albums/c.d.'s.):

Sun is shinin' in the sky
there ain't a cloud in sight.
It's stopped rainin'
ev'rybody's in a play.
And don't you know
it's a beautiful new day
hey
hey

Runnin' down the avenue
see how the sun shines.
Brightly in the city on the streets

Where once was pity. Mister Blue Sky
Is living here today
hey hey

Mister Blue Sky
please tell us why
You had to hide away for so long

Where did we go wrong?

Mister Blue Sky
please tell us why
. . .

Hey
you with the pretty face
welcome to the human race.
A celebration
Mister Blue Sky's up there waitin'
And today is the day we've waited for
hey
hey

Mister Blue Sky
please tell us why
. . .

Hey
there
Mister Blue
we're so pleased
To be with you look around

See what you do ev'rybody smiles at you.

Hey
there Mister Blue
we're so pleased
. . .

Mister Blue
you did it right

But soon comes Mister Night creepin' over

Now his hand is on your shoulder
never mind
I'll remember you this
I'll remember you this way.
Mister Blue Sky
please tell us why
. . .

Hey
there
Mister Blue
we're so pleased
. . .

I'm really pleased about going to see Alison's friends' band play again Saturday night. I'm going to dance. It's been ages. My dance moves could be embarrassing.

P.S. Have a great weekend.

P.P.S. Exactly how old does it make me sound when I say I've always liked ELO??

I'm in this odd mood.

I'm very happy, but also very frustrated. I don't like the feeling I get when certain things are beyond my control, but I think I'm finally coming to the conclusion that being frustrated by these sorts of things is foolish. I can either get caught up in worry (which I'm a champ at), or I can immerse myself in busy-ness, and reflect on all the good. (Accentuate the positive, etc.)

I'm a very lucky person. I've become my own best friend, which is a big step because I've always relied on others to "make me happy". I've made some pretty big lifestyle changes as well. The pendulum has swung from fretting over my physical flaws to reflecting on my character flaws, and doing what I can to change them. I'm trying to be more sensitive, patient, and less self-involved. All the exercise and diet changes have made me feel better physically and mentally, and I realize the improvement in my outward appearance is just a pleasant side effect.

So, even though I'm frustrated, and maybe a little worried, I'm also feeling a little lighter because I'm giving myself permission to let go. Some people can do this stuff easily. Some people can be taught to do this. Me? I have to take the longest possible route, lose all of my wheels, suffer, cause others to suffer, and eventually wake up and see the big picture. One of my biggest character flaws is that I'm intensely stubborn. (Sidenote: I'm still lovable, damn it. Really.)

I'm learning to loosen up. It feels incredible.

P.S. Another reason I'm feeling happy is the weather. It's finally going to be in the 60's today. Tomorrow ~ crop pants, because I'm Fresh. Open windows. Bare skin.

Woohoo!

P.P.S. I just paid $25 to fill up my gas tank. :-/ (Why??)

P.P.P.S. A request for the people that work at Target and put the orange perforated sale stickers on things: If you're marking down a mirror and/or picture frame, could you please put the sale sticker on the wood/cardboard instead of the glass? Thanks.

Very busy morning ahead. My back is killing me. It always does after I've done a marathon job of cleaning. I did my "Spring Cleaning" Saturday. I dusted, mopped, cleaned tile, polished furniture, cleaned pictures/mirrors/windows, rounded up dust bunnies, spiderwebs, etc. I'm not a slob, but there are spots in the house that I tend to overlook, and when I know I've got people coming over I tend to freak out a bit. All the improper stooping, kneeling, and stretching always wrecks my back, but at least the house is clean.

Early a.m. Pilates were a little more difficult than normal because of my back. I couldn't bend over as far as normal, but my back/hamstrings did feel a little better once they were warmed up. The kinks are back now, though.

I've got to start tackling my "to-do" list.

P.S. Even after the upsets I've still got 3 out of 4 of my Final Four picks left (Duke, St. Joe's, and Georgia Tech. The upset that hurt me the most was Stanford.) I've got Duke playing St. Joe's for the Championship. That Kentucky/UAB game was amazing. It's one of the reasons I love sports.

I'm having a sort of "girl-party" tonight. (Ladies night in.) I really need to re-connect and bond with the new girlfriends. I've decided to completely be myself, even if that means shocking a few of the ladies. (Sidenote: I brought a bottle of wine to the last get-together. As I was leaving the hostess told me to take my bottle of wine with me as they "do not allow those sorts of substances to remain in their home". There was half-a-bottle a left. She also told me to put the corked bottle of wine in the backseat. I think she thought I was going to swig the rest of it right from the bottle as I drove home. Yep, that would be just like me! I'd rip the cork out with my teeth, and gulp the rest of it down without taking a breath.)

Tonight I'm going to serve both beer and wine. I'm also going to play rock-and-roll music. I might even bring up the subject of boys, and heavy petting.

Good morning. I don't have a lot of blog-ish material, so here's some pictures. Please try to contain your enthusiasm. (Just be glad that I didn't post a picture of my breakfast, because I came <--this close--> to doing it. Really.)

   

Left to right ~
1) New darker hair + bangs.
2) Extreme unwinding.
3) If you look closely you can see the big scar on my stomach. When I was v. little I went out in the garage and climbed on a wooden crate that my Dad told me not to climb on. I fell and scraped my stomach up pretty badly, and this is a reminder of my naughty youth.

 

I'm an extremely sentimental person, and I love collecting things that come from my family.
Left to right ~
1) Slightly evil looking salt & pepper shakers that belonged to my Grandmother.
2) My Mother's tea set that she played with when she was little. I've got every single piece, and there's no chips or cracks. This is because she never allowed anyone else to play with it.
3) A tea set that belonged to one of my Aunt's, and a small mixing bowl that belonged to my Great Grandmother.

I've got lots of other stuff, including linens that Grandmother embroidered. This stuff is priceless to me.

The sun is out again (hurrah), so I'm not in as big a funk as I was in yesterday. I've got a lunch-time appointment with Carl-The-Lowe's-Cabinet-Designer-Man. This kitchen/family room has got to be remodeled. It's scary. So scary that I decided I wouldn't post pictures. The house still has the original kitchen cabinets, and, as you know, I love to cook. I really need more space for pots/pans/etc. I'd also like a work island, and more pantry space. At the end of the space is a brick wall that the previous owners painted with white primer paint. I've got to get rid of that paint. There's also space to install built-in bookcases/cabinets, and a desk in the corner.

Hello?? Are you still there? O.K. I'll quit boring you for now, but I can't promise that I won't be posting some exciting remodeling pics in the future. ;-)

Go Duke!

Happy St. Patrick's Day. I may not be Irish, but my name is Kelly, and my eyes are green.

O.K.

*Editor's Note: I've deleted the sad bit I had here. <----------------> Sad stuff that's just too personal for this blog. Stupid of me to post it in the first place. I'll leave the rest of the inane crap in, even if the post doesn't make a lot of sense any more. (What else is new, 'eh?)*


Well. Enough of this. Now I'm feeling icky and depressed. So sorry.

I'm feeling icky because I fell off the "health" bandwagon yesterday. I'd been craving a burger for days, and gave in to the craving. I had a burger, fries, and a Coke for lunch yesterday. I know I know - that shouldn't sound over-the-top, but I'd gotten in the habit of eating mainly fresh fruit and veggies, massive amounts of fish, a few nuts, and drinking lots of water. After I finished lunch all I wanted to do was nap. Then I had fifty tons of Chinese food last night, along with a couple of glasses of wine. No exercise. So, today I feel bleh. Pilates tonight, missy.

Now this post is not only depressing, it's becoming rather cheese sandwich-y. I think I'd better shut up now.

Oh, wait. One more thing.

I read this article by Joel Stein last night, and I thought it was spot on. I'm hoping they can save themselves.

Umm. Yeah. One last one more thing ~

Diversionary Music Therapy. It's a sing-along song. Turn it up.

I'm shutting up now, for real.

I've been good.

Really, amazingly, incredibly good. Patient, loving, kind, giving, blah blah blah.

I'm still a big ole' health-nut, I've been whipping up delicious meals (baked tilapia with crimini/shallot/wine/sauce, yummy chicken and rice, etc.), I've been been going to church every Sunday (Sidenote: Yesterday. Worst. Sermon. Ever. The Associate Pastor that looks freakishly like the young Tom Hanks did a sermon based on a Mac Davis song. I couldn't make this up. He even sang the song. Then he asked the congregation to join in. My whole body cringed when no one sang along.), and ~ I've been trying to put the needs of others before my own.

I'm trying not to take the shitty things that happen personally, but sometimes it's hard. Especially when it is personal. I've been using my new-found self-confidence to line up distracting social activities. This Saturday night I'll be hosting an all-girl party. I've even told a few of my friends that I'm going to shake things up. Leave your goodie-two-shoes at the door, Missy. Hopefully I won't frighten anybody away. (Sidenote: Before I left Texas I had a v. close group of girlfriends. I was not the wildest of the bunch. I miss them.) The following Saturday night we'll be going to see a friends' band play.

Other bits of distraction this weekend included:

1. Retail therapy. Spring is right around the corner, so I decided to do a little lacy underthings "spring cleaning". I tossed anything that I wouldn't want to get caught wearing if I was in an accident, and replaced it with half the "Pink" line.

I also bought a couple of t-shirts at The Gap, and more girlie-products that promise to keep me young looking and soft.

2. Drive therapy. When the going gets tough, sometimes I'll throw in the towel and say "I'm out of here." I took a couple of drives around the Chesapeake Bay, through First Landing State Park, near the beach, etc.

Insert Disc One of Physical Graffiti, turn volume up, and go.

3. Humor therapy. I watched A Mighty Wind again, and last night's finale of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I thought it was funny, but there were other episodes this season that made me laugh more.

The fellatio-teacher bit did crack me up. :-)

4. Gut-Wrenching (literally) Physical therapy. I'm pushing myself through Advanced Pilates. I'm cursing like a sailor (under-my-breath, of course), and I had a hard time sleeping Saturday night. I woke up with aching abdominals. I'm assuming this is a good thing.

I rewarded my efforts with several beers.

5. Garden therapy. I planted the last of the seeds Friday, and have watched all the others slowly germinate and sprout up.

6. Look-on-the-bright-side therapy. No matter how bad things get, I know that it could always be worse. I've really tried hard to focus on all of the good things in my life. This always make me stronger.

I am having a really, really, really, really, really, really, outstandingly bad, horrible, craptacular, awful afternoon.

Fuck.

wonky

Last night I came to the conclusion that it's probably not a good idea to try to learn how to knit after you've had a couple of glasses of wine. I am, however, determined to learn.

It's a damn dreary day. Rainy, windy, cold. I don't have time to get sick, but I'm afraid that's where I'm headed. My throat hurts, I'm achey, and I feel like I'm getting a fever. I've got no attention span. Well, what little I have is all over the place.

I've watched Bertuzzi's hit over-and-over, and I disagree with Bill Clement's opinion that he deserves a 20 game suspension. I think this hit deserves at least the same punishment that McSorley got after whacking Brashear a couple of years ago. A year without pay, plus some sort of community service. I'm sure there'd be plenty of work I could give him with The Relay.

If you like to laugh I've got something worth watching - Significant Others. (I watched the first two episodes last night. Watch the preview videos. Really. Too funny.)

I'm seriously not feeling well. I need something warm to drink. I would love to get in my pajamas and get in bed right now. I don't want to go out to dinner tonight. Ugh.

Later~

We're in for a wicked Nor' Easter tonight. I feel like I should be making clam chowder, or something.

I miss Tornado Warnings...

things that do it for me

I was driving to the salon yesterday, listening to Frank sing "What's New", and I got all tingly. I swear that I could feel his breath in my ear. (Sidenote: My ears are v. sensitive, in a tummy-warming sort of way.) There was something about the way he'd sing the words that began with a "p" or a "b" that made me squirm a little, and without thinking I placed my right hand on the gearshift.

That, my friends, is a good tune.

I also noticed that I tend to crank Sinatra's songs the same way I'll crank Zeppelin. I'm not sure if this is odd, but you're just as likely to hear Guess I'll Hang My Tears Out To Dry playing at the same ear-stimulating level as Trampled Under Foot at any given time in my car.

snap

Wow.

I seem to be doing a pretty good job at taking care of myself physically. I'm still doing the Pilates, crunches, and weight work, and I'm still eating well. (Example: Breakfast. Sliced stawberries, a handful of blueberries, and a container of Dannon Light and Fit Carb Control Yogurt.) My emotional well-being is a whole other story.

I've had a rough couple of days because I've had a hard time staying focused. I just spent the past ten minutes sitting in my car, listening to Frank, weeping, and telling myself to "get-the-hell-over-it-there's-bigger-fish-to-fry-damn-it."

I hate getting this inward, thinking about My Problems. It's just too sucky. Then I read this:

"Happiness, then, is the confidence that pain and disappointment can be tolerated, that love will prove stronger than aggression. It is release from the attachment to pleasant feelings, and faith in the capacity of awareness to guide us through the inevitable insults to our own narcissism. It is the realization that we do not have to be so self-obsessed, that within our own minds lies the capacity for a kind of acceptance we had only dreamed of. This happiness rarely comes without effort to train mind.

To accomplish this we must first discover just how narrow our vision usually is. This is the function of meditation. Go ahead, close your eyes for five minutes and observe how self-obsessed your thoughts are. "When can I stop doing this?" you may think. None of us is very far from the eight-year-old child who can think only about who got the biggest piece of cake."

Brilliant.

(Here's the complete article.)

The thing is this is really pretty simple stuff - in theory. It's the practice that requires effort. (Please forgive the following megalomaniacal moment.)

I've got phone calls to make, some research to do, and then I've got a [much needed] hair appointment this afternoon. I'm going even darker, and toning down the stripes. I'm wearing my new favorite bra, and I'm still smiling over last nights Curb Your Enthusiasm. (Sidenote: I liked The Sopranos as well.)

Anyway ~ things will be fine. I've just got to keep reminding myself to stay focused on the big picture, and forget about the minutiae for the time being.

take a bow

Guess what? I made my theatrical debut last night. I didn't even know I was going to be acting until an hour before I took the stage.

I arrived at the Chesapeake meeting last night early so that I could help set things up. When I got to the auditorium they told me one of the girls that was supposed to be there couldn't make it.

"Kelly, can you take her place in this little play we're doing?"

The old timid me would've had kittens, but I didn't skip a beat ~ "Sure, why not!"

I was "Lazy-Out-Of-Shape-Girl-With-An-Attitude" in Act I.

Just like Charlize, I transformed myself backstage. I shoved a hat up my shirt to give myself a belly. I took a can of Pringles and began cramming chips in my mouth. I laughed, and bits of chip fell on the front of my shirt. When I got my cue I walked out on stage, and listened to the narrator say there were ways I could protect myself from getting cancer. All I had to do was get active, and change my diet.

I rolled my eyes and said my first line: "Yeah, whateverrr."

The narrarator went on to tell me how simple it could it be, and that within 10 weeks I could be a new person!

I straightened myself up, put the chips back in the can, and said my second line:

"Oh - alll riiiiiight, I'll give it a try."

Then I had to jog off the stage, which I did self-consciously because I was wearing some snug low-rise khaki pants that I had to wear a thong with. Awwyeah. Watch that ass jiggle.

In Act II I became "Healthy-Fitness-Freak". I pulled the hat out from under my shirt, and jogged back on stage holding up a box of All Bran. (Do I really need more cred that I'm a geek? I think not.)

Applause applause. Bow before the couple of hundred people sitting in the auditorium. Exit stage left.

In other news ~

I'm still doing my best to take care of myself. I'm doing a more intense Pilates session thing now, still drinking gallons of water every day, taking my vitamins, and eating (for the most part) sensibly. The older I get the reasons I do these things are changing. The main reason is that I want to feel good, and I want to be in the kind of shape that will let me enjoy life. The rest is just a bonus. A friend sent me this quote yesterday ~

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention
of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body,
but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up,
totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming
WOW---What A RIDE!!"

I really don't think people like Lionel Ritchie's soon-to-be ex-wife are on board with this philosophy.

you can take the girl out of texas...

 

I told you I was a geek. I've got to go put my new license plates on my car now.

I just got back from the breakfast meeting, and I thought I'd post while I'm still feeling passionately about my involvement in Relay. In the weeks ahead I know there may be times I may become frustrated, or times I may feel stupid, but I want to share how proud I am of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone.

I'm basically a shy person. I know, I know - I come on this blog and show you my underwear, but - seriously - it's hard for me to get out and meet new people on my own. I've relied on friends and family to do that job for me. I've made a handful of friends since I've been here, and I just got tired of feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to do something that mattered to me on a personal level, and I wanted to challenge myself to get "out there". A couple of weeks ago I went to the American Cancer Society's homepage and saw the words - Get Involved. After a few clicky-linky's I found an e-mail address and simply said "I want to help." A few phone calls and one lunch later I'm now the Communications Chairperson for the largest Relay in the country. Me, the timid girl. The one who hates confrontation, fears rejection, and is afraid no one likes or cares for me. I don't want this to sound like this is all about me, because it isn't. I'm just trying to convey the fact that just getting out and meeting these people took a little courage on my part. The thing that I came away with after this meeting was that sticking my silly little neck out ended up being one of the easiest things I could've ever done. I've known the people with real courage, and I met a few more this morning.

Last year The Relay raised [insert Dr. Evil voice] One Billion Dollars worldwide. They've been able to fund research for 32 Nobel Prize winners. I know that cancer has affected everyone in some way. The money that is raised at these sorts of events goes to research that is cutting edge - maybe a little off the "traditional" radar. This is how progress is made.

It's exciting to me to think that sometime in my lifetime we may be able to look back at cancer like we look back at polio.

Honestly, I hate it. It's not easy to talk about, but my uncomfort is meaningless if it means saving lives, helping families cope, or preventing it from happening in the first place.

I'd already seen the video that they showed at the breakfast, and I thought I would be prepared to not cry. I hate crying in front of people I don't know, but I couldn't help it. (Sidenote: another silly thing about me is I'm a fairly emotional sort. I wear my heart on my sleeve, even if that means it gets wrecked from time-to-time.)

We lit these candles that we each had next to our orange juice, and silently honored all those people who've survived, are battling, or who've lost the fight to cancer. This stuff gets me every single time. I bit the inside of my cheek so that I wouldn't sob.

Look, I don't want to sound hokey here. I just want to share, and I appreciate all of your support. When I get tired, and I vent on the blog, feel free to kick my ass.

In other [boring] news, I'm stepping up my Pilates routine, and I'm considering giving Yoga another try. Any suggestions for a good class for someone with an iffy back?

Finally - I'm lovin' this weather. Little sleeveless t-shirts, and capris. Skin!

Well, grrrr. :-/

It was a silly post, anyway. I just said I was happy, I was looking forward to the new Zero 7 c.d. that comes out tomorrow, I got two free pairs of skivvies from Victoria's Secret, etc.

Great News! I'm going to be simply irresistible in the month of March.