Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Halloween photos...

Well, they're already on my Facespace but I figured I should post them here anyway -- for literary continuity or some bullshit like that.

It's that time of year...

Okay, it's cold outside... Sort of. In the morning, it feels like my body is screaming as I get out of bed but by noon, we're all warmed up.

Is it a bad thing that it takes me six hours to fully wake up?

Halloween came and went, ski season is nearly upon us, elections just went down the shitter and I'm hungry -- ALL. THE. TIME. It must be winter. On the plus side, I get to wear sweaters and socks with tights and tall boots and light the fireplace. Christmas is almost here (well, sort of). This won't look stupid (as long as I don't wear it in public), but B may mock me. Wait until he finds out he gets one, too.

Christmas is always a time of pure excitement for me, unless it's not. Last year I went overboard and lived to regret it come January, but this year I'm vowing to keep myself in check... Which also includes not forgetting about Thanksgiving, as much as I'd love to avoid the awkward extended family dinner.

I usually skip Thanksgiving, partly because I've never been a grateful person or understood how much I truly have and partly because I LOVE CHRISTMAS. This year, I'm trying to think about one thing a day that I'm immensely grateful for (or more, if my selfish little self has enough brainpower). Today, it's a body that works. It may not be a supermodel body or an Olympic athlete body, but my heart beats, my blood flows and I can move. It's mine and it takes care of me in an incredible, unforgettable way. I'm thankful for doctors and nurses who help keep it healthy and keep me on track. I'm thrilled at the power my legs have on a long run and the way my lungs burn when I run really fast (which is very rare). I'm thankful that I have energy to get up and get out, even if it's grudgingly. I'm terrifically elated when I see muscle definition, when I can think clearly and I can move freely. Today, I'm grateful for my body. So thanks, body and friends -- you're rad.

PS - Sorry about Halloween. I wasn't very nice to you while forcing 5 lbs of shit candy into you this weekend. I'm cleaning you right now but it may take a few days.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

long summer days, nice wine and a rainstorm...

Here's the disclaimer for this entire entry -- I've had an entire glass of wine on one kidney and an empty stomach; forgive me, Mom.

It's been a busy, busy summer so far and it seems to be looking more hectic. Brian is still with Park City Rug Company and things are much better than last summer; he's so skinny from running up and down stairs all day! I'm working full-time at Park City Nursery where I love being outside with the plants, animals and crazy people I work with -- it's nice to be able to spend time in the garden without getting yelled at for standing around kicking rocks! Haha, just kidding, Dad.

We've been mountain biking out of sheer relief that we still have bikes after Brian's crazy escapade last summer and our crime-fighting adventures this summer with my bike and I'm surprisingly able to keep up, even at 8,000 feet above sea level. Except for a nasty bout with some salmonella poisoning, we're healthy and happy and looking forward to fall and the coming winter.

Oh damn -- I'm so drunk I ran out of shit to write. Time for a nap!

Sunday, May 9, 2010

To My Mother:

Dear Mom -

First of all, I want to say thank you. I don't know if I say it enough or let you know how grateful I am. Thank you. Thank you for teaching me things most kids never learn. Thank you for letting me teach you. Thank you for swatting me when I was mean or disrespectful and thanks for the hugs when I excelled or was sad. Thanks for telling me about true love. Thank you for showing me how to love. Thank you for letting me know that no matter how painful being myself can be, that you'll always love me for me. Thanks for rocking me to sleep. Thanks for kissing my boo boos, re-planting your tulips when I picked them (over and over and over again). Thanks for understanding that I was a different breed of child and knowing when to just let things slide. Thanks for teaching me how to sew. Thanks for telling me that I'm not the only person on earth and thank you even more for treating me like I was. Thank you for sacrificing so much for me. Thank you for teaching me how to appreciate the earth and how it blooms in the spring, softens the blows and absorbs my frustrations; gardening helped me regain my sanity. Thank you for planting a travel bug in my brain: I wouldn't have gone so many places if you hadn't told me they existed. Thanks for teaching me how to cook. Thank you for teaching me that hard work pays off -- it has. Most of all, thanks for letting me spread my wings, crash and run back to you. Thanks for getting me airborne again.

You're the kind of mom most kids don't know they want -- I didn't. You always have a way of putting things into a perspective I never would have seen. You helped me forge a relationship with my father and accept people for who they are. You've given me more than just life; you have given me my life and everything in it. You taught me the meaning of respect. You chased me with a shovel, yelled at me and smacked my butt: Nice work. You showed me how to stand up for what I believe in and always set an example of compassion and generosity. You proved to me that courage isn't just about me. You allowed my personality to bloom. You raised seven kids and a husband, all while loving each of us for what we are. You were strong when most were weak and taught me how to push for what I wanted, no matter what. You showed me how to dream and nourished my creativity and imagination. You taught me how to dance. You gave me the voice to sing.

"I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
as long as I'm living,
my momma you'll be."

Thanks for being my mother. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Friday, April 23, 2010

I'm an asshole.

I've come upon an understanding that is beginning to rock my world: I'm a massive jerk-off 

No, really. I'm the person who seems to always be harping on someone or trying to be smart or witty or snarky. I left an impassioned status update on Facebook berating people to look around and stop being dicks when suddenly, I realized that I am one. But here's the kicker: I don't mean to be. 

Seriously. I don't try to hurt others' feelings. I tend to be unselfish with my time and resources, but am also easily intimidated and thus, frustrated. I seem moody and picky, but I can be funny, charming and talented -- you just have to look beyond the prickly side of my personality that is a defense mechanism. Often, I try to sound smart and end up just sounding like a jackass; I'm attempting to be helpful or start conversation. I generally assume that people want information and understanding but regularly fail to realize that folks have bigger shit to worry about than some random fact or knowledge.  

In all honesty, I'm painfully shy. 

When I sit quietly and seem disdainful of the conversation or environment around me, I'm actually struggling to find something relevant or interesting to say. I'm not judging you but instead hoping you won't judge me by my lack of understanding of all things pop-culture or academic knowledge or anything else that I'm totally unaware of. I am opinionated and passionate, but also afraid to let it show through most of the time to avoid being seen as ignorant -- ignorance scares the shit out of me. I'm awkward and rude and can be a massive bitch -- but 90% of the time, it's not purposely. I have a hard time relating to others and making friends. At times I'm hyper-aware of everything going on around me. At other times, I have a penchant for tunnel vision and could be hit by a train before I'll lift my head to look around.

I want to be liked. 

I'm worried that if I let my guard down, no one will like me. So instead of being myself, I put on an overly-confident face and fake my way through an outgoing personality. Maybe that's the reason I hold people at arm's length; maybe a consciousness of myself leads to a misunderstanding of everyone else. 

So if I'm a bastard to you, I'm sorry.

Monday, April 5, 2010

What are men really looking for?

I'm curious about a few things. First of all, what exactly are men (mind you, not boys or child-men) looking for? What qualities do guys find ideal and/or necessary? 

First of all, I suppose I should be specific. When I say men/guys/etc, I am implying an independent man who doesn't live in his mother's basement. He has a job, has varying hobbies and isn't religious, a virgin or completely clueless about women. He washes his hands and has a skincare regimen and car insurance (along with a driver's license). 

I found a link to an article entitled "9 Signs It's Time To Lock It Down", read through it and found it insulting and weirdly perverted. 

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Unemployment & The Power of Getting Off Of The Couch.

Okay, so the economy is in the shitter. I know. We all know. It's been a rough couple of years, the housing market crashed, Wall Street is corrupt and AIG robbed America. So I've heard. Unemployment is at an all time high, we have a rookie president in the White House and nothing but criticisms rocking our world.

But wait, rewind to that unemployment thing. Unemployment is at an all time high. Real quick, just for me, go to Pick any major city in the US. Any city; it can be large, small or mediocre. Ooops. Sorry, I meant medium. In the upper right hand corner of that Craigslist page, do you see the 'Jobs' link? Hit that. What pops up? Hundreds of jobs, posted every day. Now tell me again about that unemployment rate? I know how it goes. I really do -- I've been unemployed and desperate for rent/bills/etc, not to mention everything else I want. But let me tell you something; a small little secret, perhaps. IT'S ABOUT PRIDE. Put down your $5 coffee and let me explain.

There is something wrong about expecting your government to subsidize your unwillingness to work. There is something askew with our culture when foreigners are working while Americans are out of jobs... But it's not their fault. It is very much ours. Write a resume, fill out an application or just go in and beg for a job. If you're not qualified, get qualified. There are reasons strippers strip. There are reasons hookers hook and criminals have resorted to crime.

Of course this is rhetorical, but think about it: if there weren't an unemployment fund, what would you do? Sure seven dollars an hour won't buy me a pair of Christian Louboutins. But guess what? If I work hard enough at that $7-per-hour Mickey D's job, I'll get promoted. If I'm honest and willing to pick up shifts and just SHOW UP ON TIME, I will do well. And before you know it I'll be a manager earning $10 an hour. After I'm a manager long enough and I do a decent-enough job of managing my fellow hard-working American friends, I'll start applying for other jobs that pay more for a manager because guess what? I have managerial experience. And someone out there will pay me $13 an hour to be a manager. Or maybe I'll start my own business from my small savings and a business loan.

Have you ever thought about the 'American Dream'? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the dream isn't an instant one? Maybe that dream only becomes a reality after some hard work and a lot of elbow grease?

Maybe if we stop expecting everyone else to catch us when we fall or to pay us more than we deserve, unemployment will go down. What if we stop expecting handouts and start working harder? What if we really earn what we're paid? Hmmmmm. Just think about it.

Now I'm going to work.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Can Talent REALLY Outweigh Size?

First of all, I'll publish the link that has set me alight with anger and frustration:

It pains me to see a culture ostracize a human being because they are 'heavy' or 'unkempt' or 'fat'. The movies of high school, where even the so-called 'losers' have perfect bodies but are made fun of for having awful hair or acne. The movies and TV shows about college or real-life or not-so-real life or the thrillers or tear jerkers or the rom-coms all have one thing in common: the people are beautiful and perfect, except for the villain.

So it's great, right? To have an extremely obese girl showcasing incredible talent and being cast in movies and television shows as an important part of society is a step forward, isn't it? This may sounds harsh, but I don't think it is. The CNN article posted above quotes a writer saying she is talented but unmarketable; I definitely agree. She will never play an executive. She will never be an executive. She will never play the object of someone's healthy obsession or a passionate lover or a healthy, well-adjusted mom. She is fat, and female executives get where they are by being complete control freaks. A man will never look across a room and by stunned into sexual silence because of her amazing smile or the way she walks -- because she is obese and unhealthy. No one wants to see her naked, so veto on the sex scenes. Could she possibly play (or be) a great mom? No. Mothers chase their children round and round, all day long and running errands and cooking this or that and creating some type of crafty homework assignment while working a part-time job; that takes a hell of a lot of energy and calories.

I have never met this actress. I don't know her. I don't understand the way she lives or medical issues she may have. I am not friends with her family or close with her manager. But I will say that her weight is completely manageable. Without that self-control or self-discipline, how can one ever be a successful employee or boss or anything? I've learned the tough way that self-control is NOT overrated. I have discovered that discipline and desire to be something/have something/make something of yourself requires a very tight grip.

She does not have it, as evidenced by her obesity.

As someone without a thyroid, I understand what it is like to be completely powerless -- or to give yourself that excuse. I was born without the gland that secretes hormones for growth, muscle repair and most important, metabolism. I take a little pink pill every single day of my life to maintain those hormones so that my body does what it is supposed to. I was made fun of as a child for being fat AND as a teen and adult. I know what that pain is like, to not fit into anything... And then I discovered the fixer: STOP MAKING EXCUSES. What held me back in my education and my professional and my personal lives was the same thing that was holding me in my size XL's -- Lack of self-discipline. I was unwilling to tell myself "No, put down the damn cookies."

I paid a heavy price, as Gabourey Sidibe is paying now. She has realized (or soon will) that whether consciously or sub-consciously, humans respect, admire and appreciate those that can exercise self-control. She cannot. Those who exercise self-control are generally great people to work with. They are generally hard workers and know when to play and when to work. They set schedules they stick with and make commitments they fulfill. Any less than this and they do not succeed, plain and simple. That's how life goes.

And that's the way I see it.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Fate favors the fearless.

Over the past year, things have happened so quickly and so abruptly that hours, days, weeks and months have slipped by in the blink of an eye. Even when everything seems so cut and dried, it rarely is. Especially when you think you've got it all figured out. Families grow, friendships end and new paths are carved from the debris left behind. Like a fire, change happens quickly. Small choices develop into massive decisions that shape the path our lives walk upon. We create more paths than we follow and sometimes life is simply an open field waiting to be trod upon. Even seemingly insignificant ideas can suddenly inflate and grow into possibilities we've only dreamed of; opportunities we have considered behind us can be very real and very relevant. Love changes shape but remains the same while sacrifice takes on a new meaning entirely. We work for what we want, take what we need, give up what is asked to make our dreams come true. I feel as though every day is a new lesson with joyful end. Some days are a challenge. Others are surefire failures. But in my failures I have discovered triumph. I have realized that surface appearances are just that -- surface. Empty, irrelevant and unreliable. People are far more than their pasts indicate or actions determine. I understand that challenges only make life more interesting and life makes people more interesting. Fate favors the fearless. So I am embracing my future with B.V. and running towards the edge of my reality, pushing the line further away with each small choice and every tough lesson. I will adapt and grow. I will befriend those who would rather see me fail. I will give the benefit of the doubt to those who have not earned it. I will be charitable for the sake of charity and smile at strangers... Because I can. Because I am a girl who will defy the boundaries and rules set for her. Because I don't accept no. Because I do things 'the hard way'. Because I like my lessons to stick and my triumphs to reverberate loud and long. Because I not only want glory, but success and truth. I want knowledge and understanding. I want kindness and passion. I want it all and I will have it all. Because I can. And because fate favors the fearless.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Once Upon A Sunny Afternoon...

BV & I took a walk and had to stop to enjoy this winter wonderland that had suddenly descended upon us.

What a wonderful afternoon.

What's a walk without a little 'king of the hill' action?

Be it spring, summer, fall or winter, there's nothing quite like
laying on your back, looking up at a blue sky.

Oh, but of COURSE there had to be an outerwear commercial.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Dissatisfied, jobless, be-robed Sex & The City marathon...

Today is Monday, January 25th... And yes, I had to check. Coffee in hand (or rather, in lap), I am watching my favorite HBO series and wondering where on earth I can possibly find four women as hellishly funny as Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte. Who wouldn't want those four separately oh-so-personable ladies as best friends?

At this juncture, I have quit my job (again) in search for the perfect fit. BV says I'm searching for meaning and passion; I say I was tired of being masticated in the sharp teeth of an inexperienced 19 - year - old on a power trip from hell who earns minimum wage. I think it was a little of both. Why is life always harder than the manual says it'll be? Why is holding a job never the problem, but WANTING to keep the job the issue? It seems as though once I figure out the tough stuff, the easy stuff just seems to become... Not so easy.

On the bright side, we have received 60 inches of fresh, wintry powder in the last 8 days here in Park City. I spent the weekend with the love of my life, celebrating my job-less existence by reveling in the snow, Sundance, the Grand Prix and lots and LOTS of indoor indecency, along with a few workouts here and there.

I'm thinking about getting a new house plant, a manicure, a nap and a lobotomy. Does anyone read these? Doubtful. So for now...

Stay tuned, I suppose.