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Archive for August, 2011

I’d like you to relax…..take a deep breath and get ready for another round of

OMMM- On My Mind Monday.

Where the breathing is deep, but the thoughts? Not so much.

Here are some random thinks I’ve thunk this past week.

In no particular order. For no particular reason. Because.

I re-watched Juno last week and I’ve had “this song” in my head ever since. Total earworm.

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The term “earworm” makes me squirm, by the way.

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Speaking of movies on television – the movie Knocked Up is FOREVER on the E! Network. They’ve shown it about 8,695 times. What’s up with that? Too much of a good thing is a real thing.

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Not to mislead you. I actually don’t spend much time watching television. I average 25-28 hours a week at most, usually while multi-tasking. Sounds like a lot, but the average American watches about 35 hours a week (source).

I’m better than that. I waste my time on the internet…like a true sophisticant.

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I joined pinterest recently, and am wondering when the novelty will wear off. Hopefully soon. Or I may need a 12-Step.

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I’m beginning to hear the audible sound of time being sucked away (even as I type this) – making my guilty pleasure a little heavy on the guilt side. 

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In fact, I’m gonna bail out now and do something more productive. You know, so I can have something better to blog about. (I’m Kidding.)

PS: Is it moral of me to waste your time by writing this malarkey?

  • Do you have a Pinterest Account?
  • What was the last “earworm” you’ve had.
  • What’s been on your mind – nothing profound please you’ll give me a complex.

 

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Habits. Vices. I’ve picked up a few.

Somewhere along the line they became addictions.

Today they are my afflictions.

God’s pressing me to clean up my act.

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For real this time. And I want to. But.

I try and compromise. I create excuses like “I’ll try not to do such and such” or “I’ll cut down on this or that.” I end up on my knees. Again. Praying for help from a God who can’t reach me when I seek comfort from my vices rather than him.

You know what Bible verse God hit me with? You’ll like this. He’s a joker.

Matthew 18: 8-9

God says if your eye causes you trouble, pluck it out and get rid of it.

And as the living word continued it’s life in my brain I was left with this:

Sometimes you gotta say “Pluck it.”

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Pluck out your eyeball. Pretty extreme huh? We HAVE to be. We have to suck it up. Yes, it’s scary and takes courage. “How will I live without my eye?”

But the bible tells us we’ll be better off – even if we feel like we’re maiming ourselves.

I’m hearing God tell us extreme measures are necessary. We must distance ourselves from whatever is screwing us up.

That means no compromise. No temptation.

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Sometime we gotta say…

Pluck it. I’m DONE.”

Throw the cigarettes away, get the trigger food out of the house, ban yourself from the gym, cut your credit card in half, defriend the person on facebook, end the relationship…etc.

We cannot waver.

What’s holding you down or tripping you up?

Stare it down and say:

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That thing you do that you don’t want to do?

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I’m gonna start tomorrow. Who’s with me?

What’s on your “‘pluck it” list?

Pluck-it” list…bucket list…see what I did there? 

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Not to be stereotypical – BUT……

When I first heard about the movie Burlesque one of the first thoughts I had (after the O-Em-Hallelujah moment) was:

I need more gays in my life.”

I wanted to watch it with a “Gay Male” who could appreciate the fabulous factor.

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I love Christina. Do you not? Please tell me why. I love music and will defend her to the death.

Sadly, I am bereft. I finally bit bullet and rented it on Netflix. I watched it tonight.  It was nice. But I miss my imaginary gay boyfriend.

I need more gays.”

Because “they” would watch Kathy Griffin with me.

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(I read the book, by the way. Loved it.)

Because “they” can help me with my fashion and interior decorating skills.

Because “they” are people who have battled with self-acceptance and won.

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(Personal motto)

Because I’ve never met a gay man who hasn’t experienced body issues. They get it. Yet, they’re over it.

Because they would call me on my shiz…

”Girl? Go eat a carb or something and stop crying about your thighs. Over it. Boring”

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They’re here. Get used to it.

My thighs, that is.

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I don’t know. Gay boyfriends are cool. I’ve had some. I want more.

I’m accepting applications, by the way.

 

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Our economy is tanking. We’re in deep doo-doo. You may have heard.

The details are out there but I like to keep things simple.

Deep doo-doo.

One can easily forget this while reading blogs that detail trips to Whole Foods for $4 Kombucha drinks, $2 organic apples and $12 salads. Heck, it’s easy to forget when I’m IN Whole Foods – engaged in a dance of desire with so many tempting (and pricey) items.

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Guilty. As. Charged.

But seriously? I know someone who’s down $100,000 because the stock market tanked. In my line of work, I see it every day. (Don’t freak out, we’ll rebound. Trust me).

By the way, I’m an inch from bankruptcy. The fire sprinkler incident is costing many pretty pennies. Magical pennies. Imaginary pennies – I don’t have a clue where to find them.

I’m no good at making magical pennies. But I am good at couponing.

Can I get a witness?

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Yup. Mad Skillz.

That’s $36.66 I saved at the grocery store on things I would buy anyway.

I repeat – things I would buy anyway. Products I always buy. Things I need.

And I bought quit a bit.

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Unlike what you see on TV I did not walk away with 25 bottles of hand sanitizer and 60 cans of corn. Where’s the glory in that? Life is fleeting. If I die tomorrow what good is a 4 year supply of q-tips and barbeque sauce?

I got plenty of tricks up my sleeve, but the best thing you can do is seek out coupons for the products you buy anyway.

You can also save with a DIY approach in the kitchen. Here’s a quick an easy way to save (star)bucks by making your own frozen coffee elixir. And get this – you can do this in the office without a blender or the mess.

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Freeze coffee in an ice cube tray and refrigerate some brewed coffee overnight in a travel mug. The next day add some milk and sweetener of choice and maybe something chocolate.

(See that syrup? That is a big BIG deal for me. A marked departure. Naughty-pants. But that’s another day’s story.)

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Then you gotta get a … Bee Gas* cup that can handle an immersion blender. This is key.

*I don’t like Hugh Jass and so I made up Bee Gas. I don’t like that either. But I wanted to get your attention. You need a big cup.

Stick a hand over the top and zshooshe it around and voi-tothe-la:

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Save your big sturdy straws (or steal them, I won’t tell) and revel in your poorness.

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*I thought winking was supposed to be cute. Whatever. Totally Fine.

  • Are you scaling back in today’s economy? How?

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You may want to cover your eyes…things are about to get scary.  Again.

As in “find out what happens when Missy stops being polite and starts getting real" scary. Insane, really.

I’ve had a lot on my mind. And by “a lot” I mean my thighs. There is a lot more of them. They have gained some fat, some muscle and apparently extra nerve endings.

I am hyper-aware of them. They feel like strange growths – interfering when I am walking, sitting, standing or trying to think.

Wanna see these abominable thighs?

Check em out*

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*It’s a bathing suit, people. What, you don’t blog in your swimwear?

They look like….thighs. But I swear, they’ve extra-terrestrial powers.

My thighs have increased in tandem with the numbers on the scale. In a stroke of brilliance (?) I decided to weigh myself. I weigh more than I have in many years.

That’s a lot of weight I’ve found.

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I’d be lying if I wrote I’m happy and proud of this progress.  That I feel so free.

So I guess I just lied.

I calculated my BMI on three different websites and it still says I’m underweight. I’m not lying when I write that BMI is a freaking joke (in my opinion). But I did the math just to see if maybe I had reached acceptable standards. I wanted some sort of “pat on the back.” So much for that.

Unrelated: Check out these awesome tips they give as part of their “underweight treatment.”

Drink 6-8 glasses of distilled water a day.
Eat frequent but small meals.
Eat lots of raw fruits and vegetables (green leafy vegetables are great)
Do not drink coffee, alcohol, soda pop,…
Do not eat processed foods; white sugar, white flower,…
Avoid red meat and animal fats.
Reduce intake of dairy products.

(Yes, you read that correctly. Interesting, no?)

The fact is – numbers don’t plague me. Appearances don’t plague me. That is why I’m divulging all this. My weight in lbs, in BMI, or in the size of my thighs matters very little to me. That’s not what my eating disorder is about.

It’s most certainly NOT about comparing myself to others.

It’s about how I feel from the inside out – the feeling of “me” inside my skin. I relate to my bones, I guess…anything that is not my bone is foreign to me.

It’s nothing short of insane. Am I scaring you?

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It would be a lie to write that I’m not trying to lose weight.

But I’m failing. My heart is not in it anymore. I like food. 

I am walking with a God who will not let me go and I have faith I will come out the other side with a great big pair of thighs butterfly wings.

 

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Gather around boyfriends and girlfriends…settle down and grab a seat. Criss cross applesauce.Shhh….inside voices.

It’s time for a story. Today’s share?

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Interpreted by Miss. Caterpillar

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That would be me.

We have to learn a whole lot of stuff during our lives. Growing up, we had to master skills that now come naturally to us. Like walking and talking. And making cereal.

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But even when we’re grown, life continues to require us to learn. Sometimes we learn things that aren’t good for us. Bad habits like spending too much, having a short temper, smoking or eating too much.

We find ourselves flat on our backs.

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Sometimes we have to re-learn skills that should be natural to us but aren’t — like how to do life without a vice. IMG_0019

There are people to help us get on our feet, books to read and support meetings to attend, prayer to be done. But even God wants us to succeed on our own so we are stronger.

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Ultimately we’re on our own.

Change takes a lot of practice. We find ourselves flat on our backs again.

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And again.

Loved ones can encourage us, but they can’t do it for us. Even though we know better, we continue to do the things we don’t want to do. We’re clumsy.

But we’re not defeated. We try again. And again.

One day something’s going to click.

We’ll find the motivation we need – even if it means being scared shirtless. You go bankrupt, your marriage falls apart, your health deteriorates. Your motivation to change becomes stronger than the will to stay the same. 

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Something will click, I have faith. Sooner or later…

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We nail the landing. Score a perfect 10 and take home the Gold.

That victory will be worth all the time spent on our backs wondering how the heck we’re gonna get it right. Amen?

You can learn a lot from a beetle.

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  • What’s one change you’ve made that you’re proud of?
  • Is there something in your life you are being clumsy about?

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I’ve been thinking and guess what? 

There are some thinks I think you should know.

Because.

#1

Fozzie has Kentucky Fried Fur.

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imagesCA9ZYQLW 32548-fozzy_bear

#2

The dots on lowercase letters are tittles, which I think is a cute word. It reminds me of skittles. Were you thinking something more …titillating?

Then you’re a dirty birdy. Tsk-Tsk.

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#3

My Kimchi is beautiful.

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#4

You should try putting salt in your chocolate milk. (If you want). It’s magically delicious.

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#5

Someone needs to hurry up and market an umbrella that folds upwards already. Seriously.

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I just thought you should know.

Because. That’s why.

  • Learn anything new today?
  • What do you think I should know?

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My Dad told me I eat like a cow.

Oh no he di’int.

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Oh yes. He did. And he’s right. My father is a wise man.

Let me explain.

After abandoning my meal plan, I slowly developed a habit of eating “a little of this” and “a little of that” throughout the day. I don’t label it as snacking, it’s more like grazing.

Couple of tomato slices? Don’t mind if I do.

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You know what sounds good? An egg white and a pickle.

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I’ve wanted to write about this for a while but I was reluctant to be “that girl” with pictures like these on her blog.

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I eat what I want (or what I think I want) all day long and I don’t feel like I’m restricting (or am I?)

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Consuming mass quantities of broccoli, cauliflower and ketchup is normal, right?

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Doesn’t everyone crave daikon radish with himilayan sea salt?

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I eat like this all day long. Really. ALL. DAY. LONG.

Thus prompting my father’s cow comment.

In order to get as big as they are, cows eat all day long. That’s all they do, all they think of, they exist to eat. Because all they eat is grass. Grass has no calories.”

No wonder I’m so miserable, so obsessed with food. You have to eat a lot of grass to grow a big…er…cow.

The “snacks” I’m eating are lacking in many ways. First and foremost? Calories! When I do sit down for dinner, I have to admit the calories are still lacking.

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Where does this leave me?

Unsatisfied, ashamed of my frequent trips to the kitchen, and very unproductive. My dad is also my boss. Trust me, he notices.

He even told a client She eats all day – never stops – just 5 calories at a time.”

Enough is enough. I’ve gotten to the point where I’m bingeing and purging and gaining weight because of it. Unhealthy weight. And I’m still hungry.

I don’t want to be a cow anymore.

It’s time for me to get back into regular meal eating and that takes planning and that means…..dundundun…meal plan.

Sigh.

  • Is it hard for you to plan your meals? It’s so laborious to me.
  • What is the weirdest comment you’ve gotten about your eating habits?

 

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It was a dark and stormy night. The clock struck twelve. Midnight in South Florida.

A dog squeaks and whines in a sleepy lady’s bedroom. My bedroom. Thinking of my new carpet, I got out of bed and opened the door to let Zoe outside.

That’s when I saw it.

An ugly poisonous toad was chilling in the breezeway.

Ugly Toad

He was a biggin’.  Not quite this big:

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But it may as well have been. It was just as ugly.

I don’t like toads. <—understatement.

I do not like them Sam I Am.

These toads can be poisonous and kill pets. I have just cause to hate on them. (They’re also ugly and gross and they FREAK ME OUT.)

I rushed to shoo Zoe away and the toad took off and went straight into my apartment. I repeat:

The toad was in my apartment. My home.

Picture this – wait allow me:

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(Except it was dark and I was in my pajamas.)

I grabbed a mop and tried encouraging it toward the door, but it kept plopping in the wrong direction. Yes, plopping. Hopping is reserved for cute animals like bunnies and kangaroos.

Each time it flopped I shrieked. I couldn’t help it. I think I yelled “No!” a couple times. I was sure a neighbor was going to come check on me. I sounded like I was being attacked. 

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I kind of wished they would. I was under attack. Kind-of.

The beast went all over my apartment. Under the couch…it was so invasive. How rude.

After 30 minutes I realized I had to take matters into my own hands. *shudder*

I grabbed the biggest towel I could and grabbed around “it” and (shrieking the whole time) ran to throw the towel and toad outside. <— I cannot eloquently describe how difficult that was for me.

I get willy-wonkas thinking about it.

Moral of Story:

As soon as I shut the door I thought, “This is how God works.”

He tries to guide us in the right direction, knowing what is best for us.

Yet we go our own wayward ways. Often out of fear.

If only we would trust God. He will never hurt us or lead us astray. The change in course may seem scary and difficult but it leads us through the door to freedom.

You know what I mean?

PS- If a snake or an iguana ever get in I will call 911. Seriously.

PPS- F.R.O.G stands for Full Reliance On God. Coinky-dink ya think?

  • What is the weirdest thing to ever invade your space?
  • Is God nudging you with his “broomstick?” to head down a certain path? What is holding you back?

 

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I wasn’t always lost. I once knew exactly where I was headed in life, or at least who I was headed there with.

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We fell in love in 1999, my Junior year of college, and moved in together that Summer. We liked to travel and I spent many many hours beside him in his truck. Just the two of us (and our dog Zoe).

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We were creating memories – “Our Life Together: The Early Years.”

I couldn’t wait to tell the kids about it.

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I assumed we’d be together forever and the feelings were mutual.

I pretty much considered myself part of his family. His parents even came to my graduation.

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After graduating, we moved to Austin, TX – where we had dreamed of living for years. We were ready to start building our futures.

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Life was good. Did I have issues? Oh, yes. I did. So did he.

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But I was healthier and happier.

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Love makes everything better.

Until it can’t anymore.

I wrote here about a dramatic weight loss coinciding with a relationship blow-out. That was 2004 – the last year I spoke to the boyfriend formerly known as “The One.”  It was mutual. Our relationship had crumbled; our separation was necessary. Necessary but painful.

What hurt most was when he completely cut-me off. I didn’t stalk him or anything, but I’m the type who likes to be on friendly terms (After a certain amount of time has passed). Not everyone can be friends with their ex. I understand that. He made it clear. 

But complete severance from someone who I shared so much with for 6 years? It hurt. The dead silence.  It wounded me.  Devastated me.

He was my family. My best friend.

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I felt I’d been erased.

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Like a mistake.

My Aunt Trudy keeps saying “It was that guy. I think he took your heart and tore it up and you’ve never been the same.”

I shrug it off. I’m at peace with things. He didn’t hurt me. Our relationship just had to end. I’m over him and wish him all the best goodies in life. My present day issues have nothing to do with an old boyfriend.

Yet, a certain song can bring me to tears every.single.time.

That’s not normal. I don’t think of him when I hear this song – but I feel the pain that took root in my heart back then.  The rejection, the loss, the loneliness, the self-doubt.

I’ve reached an epiphany.

My Aunt is right. I’m broken hearted. Still.

I’m over HIM but I’m not over IT.

The rejection I felt (and feel) has infected me. It’s not about him. It’s not about our relationship. It’s about the wound. I never took care of it, so it never healed.

It’s post traumatic relationship syndrome.*

I’m happy I’ve realized this, because once we know something is broken we can set about finding the scattered remains and piecing it together again.  

wounded heart

No, my issues today have nothing to do with an ex-boyfriend but EVERYTHING to do with a wounded heart. <—God-shaped hole 

*Not sure if that is a real-deal condition but it should be, Amen?

 

  • Have you had an epiphany like this? Ever realize that you’ve been carrying hurt or anger from something that happened in your past?

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