The "L" Word

We've all kissed more frogs in our lives than we would care to admit- and I am certainly no exception to that rule. Stupid, disrespectful, overbearing, insensitive, too serious, too lazy, too mean, too nice, etc... I've met a bunch of duds. Met....and dated. There was the one who is now gay, the one who married his ex-girlfriend within a few weeks of us breaking up, the one who thought that JPMorgan (my place of employment at the time) was a clothing store, the one who just couldn't decide between myself and another girl, so he kept us both around as long as he could before we caught on to his shenanigans. My all time "favorite" was the one who had me over for BBQ and lived in squalor. While fixing a plate of the most random foods ever, he proceeded to smack my ass and tell me that that was how he knew I was from the Dotte. Looking back over my list of prior suitors, I am actually somewhat embarassed at some of the crap I put up with and either, a) didn't care, or b) was too naive to do anything about. Hows the saying go..."sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs to find the prince." And that I have. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, or six months from now... but for now, I am happy being in love and being with someone who loves me back, despite my many flaws, and who embraces those flaws as opposed to preying on them as a weakness. I feel like one hell of a lucky lady- and I hope I make him as happy as he makes me. :-)

Depressed....but motivated...

First of all... this is not meant to be be a pity-party, but rather, a means of motivation. I just wanted to preface this with that little bit of info.

So, last night, my boyfriend and I went to an outdoor concert. Its like 95 degrees outside, in the Kansas City heat, and within minutes of walking out the door from having showered and beauty-fied, I was dripping. Some people glisten... but not this little lady. I was dripping. My hair started curling up in little spiral tendrils on my head, and my makeup went from being fresh and clean to now falling off my face and blending colors making my face look like an awful version of the color wheel making my attempt at looking nice for the evening a complete and utter waste of time. When we got to the venue- we propped our lawn chairs up and took a seat. Eventually, as the sun went down, the weather was bearable-- but there was no amount of a breeze that was going to put my eyeliner back on my eyelid. Instead, I was rocking out an un-intentional smokey look that really just looked like someone had beaten me in the eye a few times. I digress, though, as this blog entry is not so much about my hair and make-up, or the heat, really, for that matter... but it is about my negative self-image (that being said after I ranted on about how awful I looked last night!)

Last spring, I was tired of going shopping at places like Lane Bryant and Torrid, or having to go to the Plus-Size section of the department stores. My mom and friends would find clothes that were trendy and super-cute while I was clawing through racks of geriatric clothing items to locate what was possibly the one and only cute thing available for a twenty-something girls such as myself. Shopping isn't as fun when your limited to shirts with giant pictures of cats on the front. (Don't get me wrong, I've seen some grannies rock those shirts- but there are some things that only certain people can pull off.) I was fed up. My whole life I have battled with being overweight. I remember as far back as seventh grade- when I was maybe 10 pounds overweight, I was told by my cheerleading coach that I was putting on too much weight and needed to shed some before attempting to fit into the cheer uniform. From that point on, I can remember time and time again of being embarassed and depressed about my expanding waistline. I had tried dieting before, and was often times successful to a certain point, but last year I had the first "aha!" moment where I realized that I have the power to change this. So- I took the first step and joined Weight Watchers, and I found my mojo and got rolling. Within 3 months I had lost 40 pounds. I was still a long way from my overall goal, but I was definitely thinning out and was the smallest I have been since High School. I was loving shopping and fitting into clothes from the 'normal" section of the store. It wasn't long though until I decided that I had done so well, and was so on top of things that it was ok to treat myself with pasta or mexican. Then the next thing you know, I am up 20 pounds and all of that hard work is flushed down the toilet!

I looked around last night at all of the ladies that were at the concert, and it took me awhile to realize that I was making mental notes of physical attributes of theirs that I wish I had. Skinny legs, defined arms, oval face without a second or third chin, thin hands, etc... I know it sounds pitiful and very depressing, but I know for a fact that I am not the only woman that does this. I would be willing to wager that 100% of women compare themselves to others. This kind of thinking isn't completely unhealthy, though, if it promotes motivation to improve oneself. Not change- but improve. I'm beautiful in my own right- and I don't think I am completely flawed, but I do treat myself pretty crappy. I bitch about being overweight and unhappy, but do nothing to improve my situation and instead, I treat myself like crap with this negative self-talk.

So... I'm hoping this new revelation, combined with the fact that practically everything I currently own in terms of clothes nearly rips apart as I squeeze into it, will light the fire under my hiney that is needed to get me back in the game- and to unveil the beautiful person thats beneath all of this self-loathing.

The pictures below are a few that I took last year after having lost close to the 40 pounds... I am using these as motivation to return to those same clothes. :-)

Someone else who thinks it sucks being a girl....

Have a Happy Period!

This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter...

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the
LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from the curse'? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?

As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!

The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.

Are you fu*%ing kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.

For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong', or are you just picking on us? Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull sh*t. And that's a promise I will keep. Always!

Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX

It sucks being a girl...

Once a month, without fail, I swear it seems as though a demon takes ahold of me and spews venom from my mouth... because I know it's not me.

Its certainly bad enough feeling bloated, fighting cramps, and having to lug around a case full of tampons and pads everywhere you go, but its even worse when you have mood swings that would make even a bi-polar patient look at you like you're crazy. And the worst part is, is that when the venom springs forth, there is nothing you can do to stop it. You hear it... you acknowledge it... you even feel bad about it... but you can't stop it!

So... if you are one of the victims of my wrath, I apologize with emmense sincerity, and I only recommend that maybe next time you find shelter, but I can not lie and tell you that the demon has died... cause it will be back to visit for a few days next month.

You might not always end up where you thought you were going to, but you always end up where you were meant to be...

Isn't it amazing sometimes when you look back on where you've been, where you're at, and where you're going? Its been on my mind a lot lately how differently I had always planned my life to be. Sitting in the back of the classroom during my freshman year of high school, I remember daydreaming about my life, as though I held the remote control to destiny. Well, apparently, it was a faulty remote control, or my destiny got mixed up with someone elses.

According to my "plan," I was going to get married right out of high school, have about 4 or 5 kids, and be a stay-at-home mom until my kids were old enough to go off to school, and then I would go to school to get my teaching degree and I would teach grade school until my husband and I retired and we spent the rest of our days traveling to places I'd only dreamt about.

The first clue that my "plan" was a complete bust was when I graduated from high school as single as I had been going into high school. Thereafter, things deviated from the "plan" much, much more. I went to Europe the summer after graduation and once the summer was over, I started taking classes at the community college and found myself a job working at bank.

Here it is, close to 10 years post-high school, and I have been to Europe twice, been to the Caribbean, worked at one of the most well-known companies in America, lived on my own, paid my own bills, and found my way in the world on my own. I've experienced relationships, both good and bad, gotten my heart broken, and have recently had the pieces put back together after finding love for the first time. I've experienced pain, joy, grief, loss, humiliation, excitement, and love all on my own. So, I look back on my "plan" of how life was supposed to go and I am amazed that destiny knows better than we do and it has beeter plans than we can conjure up for ourselves when we are sitting in the back of a class at the age of 16.

Growing Up

I remember being a little girl dressing up with my neighbor in my moms old shoes and oversized shirts, wrapping our whistles around our necks and playing in the street while we as "teachers" were manning the "playground" and paying close attention to the invisible students that ran wild. I remember riding bikes and somehow in an instant, my bike could be anything from a spaceship to a Mercedes. Dolls could come alive in my imagination as much as sleds could turn into horses. Anything was possible with a little youthful imagination. Those days were the days when the biggest drama in my day was when my neighbor wouldn't come out to play because she had some incredible task of cutting paper, or, trying to figure out what Big Wheel to use in the block party race. When the highlight of the year was going to the circus or making it to Worlds of Fun a few times. Those were the days. Its amazing how every year thereafter that of being six changed ever so slightly until now, I am twenty-five, I look around me and see envelopes full of bills, a work schedule plastered to my refrigerator door, not to mention the fact that I even HAVE a refrigerator door, a pile of laundry sitting in a laundry basket at home, a grocery list, a myriad of friends with their dramatic tales left on my voicemail, and a car that needs gas at the cost of $3.00 a gallon... what happened? Where did my days of adolescence and imagination go? The most imagination I can conjure up these days is imagining that I win a million bucks to pay off all my student loans and buy a new car-- which is far less glamorous than what I had imagined as a child. like, whatever happened to imagining I was a princess or a doctor, or anything else I wanted to be for that matter. When did life take an unforseen turn? I mean, my whole youth I spent trying to be an adult... I couldnt wait to grow up and get a job, get a car, get married, have a family, have money, etc... and now that I am grown, I want to be a kid again! Now, thats irony, if I do say so myself. Being an adult sucks. Far too much responsibility. Far too much reality, as well, which is my problem. I love living in the naive world where everything is perfect - yet it seems more and more that I am realizing that I see things through rose-colored glasses for the most part, and that things aren't always roses out there in the big-bad-world. Some people are mean, marriages don't always last, people don't want to take responsibility for their children, princesses don't exist with the glass slipper, Dr's foul up and have malpractice suits filed against them, people get laid off--- and sleds are just sleds, invisible kids are just invisible, and no one even owns a big wheel anymore... Growing up sucks.