It's Simple

It was a beautiful day. I packed my backpack with some water and my camera and headed for the hills above the valley. Seven miles later, with an ache in my foot, a soaked through shirt, and a growling tummy, I came to ask myself a strange yet simple question, "How happy am I?" The answer came as a shock: "I think this is the happiest I have ever been."

Here I am alone, living without that man that I love, waking up alone, sleeping alone, eating alone, going to bed alone, and yet I am happier than I have ever been. I don't mean this as a jab to my husband because it is not meant that way. What I do mean is that although alone and not being "productive," not working towards any goal or completing any endeavor, not keeping myself saturated with "busy work," but just wandering up a hill and coming back down again, I find I am content. I no longer need anything or anyone to fill me up, to bring me joy, or to give my life meaning. I just put one foot in front of the other, understanding the adventure is now.

As I wandered my way on my path, my ears filled with the sounds of the creek and the singing birds, my nose filled with the most amazing smells of flowers and grasses, pines and oak. My eyes vision filled with the dance of butterflies and hummingbirds, flies and moths, and birds of every shade of color. My life is full of meaning and wonder, and all without having to do anything or be anyone. I have purpose by just being alive and aware.

I love to watch insects. I think it is because they are always busy surviving, living in the now. As I walked under the canopy of trees, I was hit with a barrage of caterpillars hanging from the trees. I didn't realize it until I found one hanging of the brim of my hat, in front of my eye. Later I found them scooting around on my back and backpack. Pretty sure the dead snake at the bottom is a baby rattler. The markings are rather significant to rattle snakes, and there are a lot of rattlers in this canyon.

I absolutely love this song!!

A Unique Father's Day

I read this on Yahoo News and just loved it. This is a pregnant, male, sea dragon in the Georgia Aquarium. The eggs are pretty easy to see at the end of his tail. Aren't these little creatures fascinating? I recently saw a documentary on Sea Horses, which are a cousin to the Sea Dragon. The male and female mate for life, and are just so adorable and delicate. They attach themselves to grasses on the sea floor and float along the currents, back and forth. They are always together, looking out for each other, taking care of each other. In the article they said they didn't know what makes them want to mate, but the documentary shared that they believe it has to do with tides and the moon. Interesting since this mating took place inside an aquarium, one must conclude that there must be something else triggering it. It is a very intricate mating event, but extremely rare to catch. In addition, the documentary explained why there is a decline the Sea Horse population around the world by showing buckets of dead, dried Sea Horses in Asian markets. Once again, over harvesting is to blame. Can we just leave some things alone and not eat it?

One thing I did notice is that the Sea Dragon keeps it eggs on the outside; the Sea Horse male however, actually keeps the eggs on the inside. Amazing! I wish I could go to the Georgia Aquarium and get an up close look at this. Maybe I will try and get out there this summer, but probably not until after the birthing has already taken place. Maybe there will be lots of babies to look at instead!

Happy Father's Day!

It's true what they say....

Firemen are hot!!!



On the block where I live is a Firehouse. There are times when I walk or drive by I catch the firemen out washing their firetruck. I do sometimes find myself staring; not drooling, just staring. Cute butts abound, as well as rather muscular physiques. They always turn and wave hello to me, and I, like a giddy school girl, wave hello back.
Yesterday while I was at the grocery store, one of the guys (in uniform) was in the condiments isle, and wouldn't you know it, I needed some salad dressing! I have to admit, I looked this guy up and down a couple of times, and WOW, was he ever gorgeous. I smiled as I checked him out, laughing to myself for ogling. Is it the uniform? Is it being in my 30s and finding a new adoration of the male physical form? Or am I just a horn dog? Hummm, probably a little of all three.

This morning I told Larry about it, and he laughed at me. He actually said he was happy that I am a normal, sexual human being. "It's okay to look at the menu, just don't order anything off of it," he said laughing but there was a hint of seriousness in his response. Yes, it is true. I am a normal, sexually healthy young woman, and he is the same as a man. But we didn't used to be so "normal." I remember one incident when we were at a restaurant and a cute young woman was walking back and forth and then sat at the table across from us. I immediately picked up on my husband's uneasiness, as he was feeling somehow guilty for wanting to look at this woman. He started doing the whole looking out the side of his eyes thing that I just find creepy. I finally said to him, "just look already and get it out of your system." He sat there stunned, not knowing what to do. I could read his mind, "really, should I? She said I can, but now I don't know if I want to....naw." And that was the end of that.

I'm not so insecure that I deny my husband what is in his being to be. He is a man, and men look. If he didn't find other woman attractive, I would be worried. I married a man, and I want a man, not a de-sexed version of a man. I also don't want him to feel ashamed for being a man. I guess now the same applies to me as a woman. I will admit I don't normally look at other guys. It has to be extraordinary for me to want to "check out" another man, and this fireman was extraordinary. But I do enjoy the banter with my husband, as well as the total honesty.

Of course, I do occasionally throw in a little something to keep him on his toes. Just a gentle reminder......, "remember that every time you look at another woman, another man is looking at me." OORAH!!! Wait.....I guess the same could be said to me now. Damn!

Weighing in on the Issue: A Survivor's Story of an Eating Disorder

The last month I have been posting pictures and talking about my weight loss. As I look back on my posts, I realize that these posts may come across as maybe something other than what was intended. Pictures of me in long lost jeans, a new pair of "thin" pants, and pants held up with a belt could make it appear that I am obsessed with my weight and my weight loss. I want to say here and now that I am not obsessed, at least not anymore. In a way, I am trying to share my own story on my blog, but I see that I have jumped to the present with out sharing my story of my past. I realize this is a bit long, but if your interested, it does kind of strip me down to bare bones. I suppose this is a safe place to do that.

First, let me say that until recently, I have HATED my body my entire life. Ever since I became aware of my body as a control device, I have abused it with food, starvation, obsession, excessive exercise, and general loathing. No matter how skinny or how fat I have been, I have absolutely hated my body. It actually makes me sad now to write this, but it is the truth nonetheless.

When I was five years old, I feel madly in love with the art of ballet. It was my everything, and consumed me. All I could ever think about was being a ballet dancer, and truth be told, I was very good. Then puberty hit. Suddenly my body was doing things that I didn't want to happen. Ballet is not for the curvy girl (yes at 5'6'' and 117 lbs I was considered curvy). I learned early how I could easily loose weight by just not eating. This would usually lead to a binge eventually. During my teenage years, my hate of my body grew even more. Not only was I clinging to a dream of being a thin, emaciated ballet dancer, but I was also trying to be an attractive teenager which meant being as thin as possible in my mind. I would throw my lunch in the garbage at school after only having an apple for breakfast. Then I would come home and eat "binge" style foods, and not eat dinner. The constant self punishment going on inside me was torment. I would have to say it was my own personal hell. The cycle was as follows: look in the mirror and find every little inch of excess skin I could, point out all my flaws, get on the scale and determine how much weight I could loose in the next 3 days, start the starvation process, fixate on an exercise routine, loose the weight and for a moment feel like a hero, but feeling empty I would binge to fill in the hole that the hate of myself had dug. Repeat, repeat, repeat.....

I finally decided to walk away from ballet when in preparing for a performance my instructor ordered my costume to be made a size smaller than I was in order to lose more weight. She instructed me to be 110 lbs for the performance. I was 14 years old, and nearly 5'7". 110 lbs was actually considered unhealthy for someone my height, not to mention my level of muscle development and activity, but I was in a corner. I worked out five, yes five times a day doing Jane Fonda videos, going to normal dance classes, running, endless crunches, etc..., I essentially stopped eating as well. I did manage to get into that costume, but fell over at the end of my performance because I was dizzy and weak. This resulted in getting yelled at by my instructor. I couldn't win! I couldn't be thin enough, and in order to get that thin I wouldn't be able to dance. I had had it, and I walked away. Although I finally decided to put my health first by walking away from the abuse I was enduring, the damage had already been done to my soul. I don't think I could possibly put into words the amount of pain I was in, the absolute and total soul starving anguish that I felt inside myself. Unless you have felt such pain, I don't know that you would be able to truly understand it, nor would you want to if you were so lucky to have not experienced it.

The starvation, binging and constant dieting continued on throughout high school and into my adult life. It was a never ending cycle of self abuse and hate, but it was a great control measure which slowly morphed into a comfortable friend. Whenever things got hard, lonely, or painful, I knew there was a nice big bowl of ice cream waiting for me at home, like a good friend. I am almost certain now that this cycle damaged my body and led to my Thyroid problem (with a genetic inclination as well).

About 10 years ago, I started to just give up on myself. Gave up on caring about myself, about who I was and what I wanted. This was not just in the care of my body, but in every way that makes me me. Then I guess I hit rock bottom as they say. I just hit that place where I couldn't go further. The hate had just taken its toll, and I became apathetic. Two years ago (roughly), an event occurred that changed my life entirely. To look at me, you would not see this change, as it is inside of me. I would love to tell you this climatic event occurred and suddenly, overnight I saw the folly of my ways, followed by immediate joyfulness and a success story. That would make for a good Hollywood movie, but as anyone who has climbed a mountain knows it doesn't happen overnight. It takes years of training and then one can take the step up, followed by coming back down. Only then can they say they have climbed the mountain.

The HARDEST thing involved in changing is taking that first, frightening step, and actually wanting to change. Once one makes that step, the tools to change are there. As Glenda says, "you've always had the power my dear, you've had it all along." I knew I didn't want what I had become anymore, I couldn't, I had too much hope inside me to just give up. I chose to change when I couldn't see anything in front of me anymore but fear and sadness. I chose to tap into my power. But I had so many battle scars inside, each centered around a sense of self loathing, that everyday was/is a battle. The self loathing and fear is the Devil inside. I guess the best way one can describe it is that ever so cliche butterfly in a cocoon. The part of the process that I was in was not the cocooning stage, nor the breaking free stage, but the battle and struggle just to begin the breaking out stage. That battle is life or death. That was where I was and it was hard, still is hard sometimes. No, I don't feel I have broken free yet, but do feel I have a tear started.

Losing weight, running for a goal, taking care of myself, and buying new clothes, is all about regaining myself and who I really am, not about vanity or obsession over my weight. I can honestly say I have no idea how much I weigh. I have not weighed myself in over a year. I have done so on purpose because for me a scale has so much baggage. I have let it determine my worth as a person, as a girl, and as a woman. Therefore, unless I am in a doctor's office, you will never see me on a scale again. Now, rather than beat myself up for eating an extra cookie, I go for a walk, a hike, enjoy eating foods that actually nourish me and not for comfort or self abuse. Food, and the desire for food, now comes from a completely different place. It is the strangest thing to actually want to eat vegetables.

One big thing I have learned through this lifelong battle is that making peace with myself is the only way I could begin to learn to be happy. Loving myself enough to forgive myself and others that have hurt me is the only way to actualize the person I really want to be. A hard and painful process for sure, but for me, the only way. I have, for many years, fantasized about the woman I wanted to be. No, my fantasy is not about money, status, power, the right career, a new car, the right size jeans, the white picket fence with 2.3 kids, 1.2 dogs, and 3.7 cats. It has none of those elements because those elements are no longer important to me, nor do they equate to that sense of peace within myself that I seek. My fantasy is about me being completely comfortable inside my skin, in my body, and loving my life completely. It is about being happy just by being myself, and glowing....no radiating that internal joy out to everyone around me. That is my hope for myself, my fantasy, and if it takes the rest of my life, I will get there having climbed my mountain and lived to share my story.


Parents - please watch your children, watch your daughters. See if any of my story seems a little too familiar. Step in and help them now if you have observed any of these behaviors.

D Day

I have been searching for a bikini for a few months now. I am going to Hawaii in a few weeks, and I really want to feel comfortable wearing a nice bikini on the beach. The problem is that I need support in the upstairs department. I am a 34 D, which does not always make for easy bikini shopping. I have tried Large bikini's only to find the bottoms are too big and the tops still don't hold in all my stuff. Other bikini's for D's seem to be for fake boobs only. They don't offer support because your boobs aren't real, therefore, you don't need anything to hold them up and together.

I went onto a D, DD bikini website only to find most everything was over $100.00!! That is ridiculous. Two lousy pieces of fabric for $149.95?? I don't know if this is a tax on the full figured gal or what, but I just think it's just nuts. On top of that I noticed something severely lacking in their models:

Oh....like say.....BOOBS! Geez, I haven't had boobs this small since the 6th grade!


Then I came across this lovely bikini for a whopping $125.00:

Can you say Redneck Riviera? I have always wanted a bikini with that fresh ripped denim look, haven't you?

I think I may have found one that I like, and it appears the top is size specific, like a bra. I won't say how much I am spending on it because it is sickening, but apparently to find a bikini that will fit me, and that I will wear, I am going to have to shell out some cash.
I only wish I would look that good in it! Not likely, but I think I will get the coverage I want and still be able to wear a bikini. The worst is when it doesn't fit right and you are constantly worried if a little nip action is happening without your knowledge. I want FULL coverage.

Here's to happy sun bathing!! I hope!

A Cleft Baby

As I have written in the past, a child may be in my future in one way or another. I have just come to the realization that Larry and I are meant to be parents. We have been talking more and more about expanding our family and sharing our love with a child. As we talk, we have turned to consider adoption as not just an option, but something we want to do. It's not that we have completely omitted the idea of having a baby made up of our DNA, but that as we get older our idea of what makes a family is more broad.

When I tell people that we are looking at starting a family most are shocked. After all, we are just so old. My favorite is, "do you realize you are going to be in your late 50's before your child graduates from high school?" Ummm, yeah.....and???? Sorry, but I expect to be in my prime in my fifties. I know people in their 30s that act like they are already dead, so age doesn't seem to have much to with it. Of course, these comments usually come from people who started their families young and the idea of having children running around in their 40s and 50s does seem exhausting. I understand that it would considering their point of reference is that they have already been raising kids for many years. It is comparing apples to oranges.

So I have been spending some time perusing the adoption websites (which is overwhelming to say the least) to try and better understand the domestic vs international adoption processes. I was surprised to read that adopting a "cleft baby" (one with a cleft lip and/or palette) is considered a "special needs" baby. As a future speech pathologist, a cleft is a disability I will be working with. The thought began to enter my mind.....I would be a perfect candidate for a cleft baby because of my knowledge and expertise. There are issues with feedings initially, then the surgeries, then the rehab and speech therapy. Children that might otherwise be over looked for their "disability" would be a perfect fit for us.

I asked Larry what he thought of this possibility. I told him that there would most likely be not just one surgery, but probably a number depending on the level of cleft. Would he be able to handle the fact that for the first few months, people would most likely stare and point at our baby?

The first picture is a 3rd degree cleft lip, the second is one month after surgery.

He said he could. It didn't matter to him. He would just want to give a child a chance at a better life and have a loving home to grow up in. My preference would be to have as a young a baby as I could, especially for the first one. It would be my first "mommy" experience, and I would like to start the process of mothering while they are as young as possible. This probably sounds strange to people that have had children of their own; trying to find a child that is young. The reality is there are a lot of unwanted children out there that need homes. That is probably a big factor for me in choosing adoption; giving a child a home that has already been born.

As I visit these websites, it pulls on my heart strings. I can't bring myself to click on the "waiting children" links yet. It just breaks my heart to think of all these kids just waiting for a mommy and daddy.

I would like to think this is a real good possibility for us. I know it will take time to figure out the in's and out's of this whole process. It could be years before we are in a place to be able to actually adopt a child. I like to think that it would be amazing to give a child a home filled with love, two parents that would love them unconditionally, and a chance for a life they might have never had if it weren't for the ability to adopt. I am full of hope.

A Great Presentation

This is a video put together by a 15 year old girl. It shows more honesty and is more honorable than anything you will find in the news.

New Pants

When Larry was home, we went shopping for some new clothes for me. I bought these pants a size smaller than what I used to consider my normal, and well...they look pretty good. Nice for summer! I probably wouldn't have bought anything new, but Larry picked stuff out and wanted to splurge. I think I got pretty lucky in the "marriage" department. Sorry the picture is only of my center, but that is as far as I could stretch out the camera away from me.

Wedding Insanity

We left Saturday for my nephew's wedding in Pasadena. Larry got into Salt Lake Thursday morning, and the original plan had us leaving Friday to Ontario to visit with his parents. After a bit of rest, Larry decided to rest some more and leave on Saturday instead, but flying into LAX. We knew it would be cutting it close with the wedding at five. Our plane was due to leave at 1:50, but was delayed 15 minutes, so that only added to the stress. We also had a celebrity on board, little David Archuleta from American Idol fame. I ran into him outside the airport bathrooms (he was going in his, I was going out mine), and I said "Congratulations" to him. He was sweet and said "Oh...Thanks." So there is my little celebrity news. Now I'm special.

We landed in LAX and got our car. We only had a hour and half to get to the hotel, change, and be at the wedding. Panic started setting in. I had written out pretty good directions from the hotel website, but when we talked to the girl at the car rental place, she told us we were going out of our way and to take anther other freeway instead. Since she was a local, we thought she knew better than us. Well, we got halfway to our destination and hit total gridlock. Frustrated, we got off and turned around going with the original directions I had written down. That error took another 20 minutes of time we didn't have. We finally made it to the hotel at 4:40. We checked in, ran upstairs and and changed our clothes. We drove over the the Arboretum only to find we had to take a shuttle to the wedding location. It was now 5:00. We finally got to the site, and fortunately had not missed the wedding. It hadn't even started yet. We met up with family, hugging and kissing people we hadn't seen in years.

The wedding was, of course, short and sweet. My sweet little nephew was choked up and started to cry. It was so cute. His bride, on the other hand, was a cold as ice. I haven't exactly warmed up to her yet. She is what I would call extremely guarded. I don't think she smiled once, but from what I understand she is a nice girl, but just not real warm at first. Everyone says she is just very shy, but I am shy and I can at least make eye contact with people, shake their hand, and say "nice to meet you." She comes across as being "put out" by having to talk with you. Larry and I are just holding on to the fact that we know Josh, and he must see something in her that we can't.

My nephew and his now bride, have been together for about 5 years, the have lived together for at least 3 of that, no...probably 4 years. They just bought a house together last year, so for me, I found all the expense for a "wedding" to be a bit excessive. Of course, my idea of the perfect wedding being who I am today, is me and my husband, a few friends and family, a tropical island beach, and simple vow exchange. That would be followed by an all night party, a little skinny dipping, and sex all night until we collapse (TMI??). All this pomp and expense is just too over the top, especially for two people who have already made a commitment to each other and have for many years. This is just my opinion of course. Everyone has their own ideas of what a wedding is, and what it means to them. I guess for me, being married for 17 years, the wedding just isn't as important as the relationship, so my value isn't in the dress, the flowers, the pictures, etc..., but more on just the statement of commitment and love.

After the wedding the family took a few photos, then Larry, Terry, and I took a walk over to the "Fantasy Island" house. I guess you would have to be in your 30's or older to know this T.V. show, but apparently this is where they filmed the scene when all the guests showed up to meet Richardo.

See the little bell tower on top? Say it.....you know you want to....."La Plane, La Plane!"

We made our way back to the hotel where we were not only staying, but where the reception was being held. It was an open bar, which normally is not something I would really take advantage of, but after the day we had had, I just wanted to sit back and have a cool drink (of course I paid for it later, at around 4:00 in the morning). I started with a Margarita, then went to a Cosmopolitan, then to wine. We had dinner, followed up with all the normal wedding activities (money dance, speeches, etc...) I spent some time visiting with my father-in-law, whom I haven't seen in a year.

I also got caught up with my other nephews, one is going into the Air Force, the other is trying to figure out how to tell is parents he IS going to college back East next year, and the third is just being a goofy, normal 13 year old.

The rest of the evening was just more partying and celebrating. Larry and I spent most of the evening on the dance floor. My nephews were so impressed with how we "owned" the dance floor. I guess we don't care how old we are, we just have fun, and as Larry says, "I'm just trying to keep up with her." Later, I got "felt up" by one of the bridesmaids. Yeah.....don't ask. Let's just say someone had been hitting the flask a bit hard, and she didn't remember it the next morning. All I know is that I was dancing and suddenly felt a hand go up my skirt. Hello!!! Later, Josh and I were joking with each other when he found out our room was right next to his room. "Now if you hear a lot of pounding on the wall tonight don't worry about it," he jokingly said. "Oh okay Josh, now is that warning for me or for you?" I replied. He turned bright red, and laughed. No, I expect I am not a typical "Auntie." I think the kids like it though.
Around midnight, the last song played, and we headed up to our room where we both passed out. It had been a crazy day.

The next morning, I paid the price for my over indulgence of the drink. I was exhausted and so hung over it wasn't funny. We had been invited to a Mexican breakfast the following morning, and the smell of meat, peppers and onions first thing in the morning was almost enough to send me over the edge....again. Afterwards, we headed back to LAX where Larry had his flight back to Honolulu, and me back to Salt Lake. We were both fortunate that we each got business class. My flight left first, so Larry waited with me and when it came time for me to board, we kissed and said Good Bye. Larry was almost in tears, which made it hard for me to look at him. 12 more weeks.....

After being in that cesspool called LA, it was wonderful to come home to clear blue skies, green mountains, and a sweet pine smell in the air. The temperature was about 65, cool and breezy. I drove home, put on my PJ's, rolled myself up in a blanket, took a deep breath, and fell asleep in about 10 minutes. What a day!

It's garden time again.....

Gather around...

Here is me playing with a snail on the edge of my wheel barrel (I actually caught myself saying wheel barrow yesterday......and I'm going to be a speech therapist!!)

More blooms from the Iris plants

Surprising scientific finding; a plant can give birth to a mammal. Amazing!

I need to get nailed...

Catchy title, don't you think? Actually it isn't what you think it is. I am going to a wedding this weekend and thought I would attempt to look like I don't constantly have my hands in either the dirt, paint, or urethane. A stretch I know, but I thought I would paint my fingernails.

First of all, I cannot paint my nails myself to save my life. Add to that my nails are maintained to the level of a construction worker. Add to that again, that unless I am sleeping, I can't sit still for more than ten minutes without getting my hands into something. I really should just have a manicure done, and save myself the headache.

I thought I would share the results. It looks like a 7 year old did them.


Now I have to go buy some polish remover and try again. Will someone just come sit on me for about 20 minutes, so they can actually dry!

Pardon, are those your panties I see?

My husband sent me an email yesterday with some interesting attachments. Apparently these skirts are all the rage in Japan. Mind you, these "pantie lines" are air brushed onto skirts. Just think everyone gets to have the butt of their choice without plastic surgery, endless squats, or the female favorite....cellulite!

A good old fashioned Utah style lynching

I sometimes read the newspaper online just to keep myself apprised of the happenings in this state I call home. One of my favorite columnist is Robert Kirby. He shares great stories and has an amazing wit; calling it as he sees it. I love that kind of honesty (hummm, I wonder why? ;) ).
In a suburban town in Salt Lake County, a firestorm of allegations went out of control when a middle school teacher produced a pamphlet regarding sex for a sex ed class she was teaching.

The parents got wind of the "sex manual" had forced the Principal to "investigate" the teacher. This, of course, before they actually even viewed said "orgy manual." Kirby decided to investigate the whole debacle, and the results are in typical Kirby fashion, letting the idiots involved dig their own holes.

Here is the link.

The Joy and Pain of Weight Loss

As I wrote a few posts back, I am having a more challenging time with some of my clothes. Today I put on some slacks I bought back in March and this is what happened:

Given it feels great have to hold up my pants with a belt, but I am becoming aware that I am going to have to replace my pants soon. Another size, and a belt just won't do the job. Although I like clothes, I hate shopping (mostly likely from years of not fitting into clothes I thought I should be able to wear). The idea of replacing my comfortably over sized clothes starts to produce a slight panic attack in me. Sounds strange I know, but that is where I am psychologically speaking.




I took this at the same time and thought she is just too damn cute not to share.

Crafts

I found this website and laughed my butt off. Gives me some great craft ideas for future holidays! The New Year's Eve ball is quite spectacular.

Viva La Vida

Great new song by Coldplay. I love the lyrics and use of strings. Fabulous song!

Feeling disillusioned

This afternoon while I was running around doing countless errands, I found myself behind a 1970s van. In the back window was a "Fear God" sticker in big black words. Down on the lower right side was a Jesus fish symbol. I found myself confused by this. I suppose I have been on this "Jesus" thing too much lately, but I am confounded as to how these two statements go together. While I was looking at the back of this van, attempting to understand this person's premise I heard an ad for breast augmentation on the radio. I believe the ad went as follows:

Woman "I just love my new breasts, how they look and make me feel."
Husband "I couldn't believe that this was my wife. She just looks so spectacular now."

Can I just say something here......THEY ARE BOOBS!!! Not the cure for cancer, not a Nobel prize, not even a nice pair of shoes, which by the way, are much sexier than two over sized melons bouncing out of your shirt. Sorry, but I don't think that if she looked bad before, having DD's is going to make her look "spectacular." I wonder how many starving children in Africa, or those surviving the earthquake in China could have been fed for the price of two big ol' plastic boobs? GRRRRR......

I came home and plopped down onto the couch and decided to read some other "disillusioned" folk. I came across this on Postsecret:


No matter how disillusioned I may feel sometimes, I have no comprehension of what it is like to be there, be in that place. I am safe at home, shopping, driving my car, running my errands, watching my T.V., taking to my husband and emailing my family, hearing children play outside, running on clean, safe streets, showering in warm water, drinking cold water, and I don't have to carry a gun with me wherever I go. No, I may not understand everyone and why people do what they do, but I don't have to live were he is. I wish he didn't either, but it does keep things in perspective, doesn't it?

Regrets

This morning I had read something that was of no real consequence, but let it get the best of me. I began to go down the "defensive" road, and wanted to write about a statement someone made which has no bearing on me nor my life in anyway. This particular individual touched a part of me that has been with me all my life. It is the weak spot in me. There are few things in my life that can bring my defenses up and what she said was one of them. I am slowly trying to mend my wounds, and become a stronger person.

I do seek to educate were I find wrongs, were I find misinformation and misunderstandings. My desire is to be a person that not only lives a life that is fun, adventurous, and stimulating, but one of empathy, education, and diplomacy. When my buttons get pushed, my brain goes a little crazy, and the resultant is that I can come across preachy and even arrogant. Two characteristics which I despise in others. As they say, what you despise in others is what you despise most in yourself. This is true. I usually have my husband around to say "Bin, what is going on?" Those few words seems to settle my restless spirit. Since he isn't around, I didn't have my control measures in place.

For someone reading this that didn't read my post, you may be all confused as to what I am talking about. That is because I removed the post. An old friend of mine wrote me, and as I read his words I began to see just what I had done. I had let my buttons get pushed, and worse, it wasn't even someone doing it to me, I did it to myself.

I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. It seemed like I was off all day, and although I understand why I said what I did, I also find the motivation behind what I said to be jaded and misguided. I am usually (except for today) aware that no one person's thoughts, words, or even deeds has power over me. I forgot that this morning, and allowed myself to fall into an old way of thinking. It is amazing how much improvement one can make, only to be reminded of how far there is yet to go. Inside of me, as there is in most, is a vulnerable, insecure girl that struggles to be the strong and confident woman that I am capable of being. Sometimes the vulnerability comes to the surface and has a mouth the size of Texas.

I am bound to make mistakes, and have foot in mouth situations. Everyone does. I did today. I guess the good part is that I see my mistake and can take steps to change that. Learning from my mistakes is one thing, changing so that they don't happen again is where the real challenge lies.



Jason - I am sorry I missed you on your visit in town. I hope your family is well, and it was nothing too serious. Keep in touch, and if you did want to get a hold of me next time you're in town you will have to email me for my cell number. I no longer have a home phone. Thanks for your input on my recent post.

S'more Pictures

Today I spent more time working in the yard. Although nothing special, I have more spring pictures to share.

Zoey's chair. Yes, it is her chair now. I'm so weak.