Okay, okay, that's a made up word. But it has an implied meaning; so even though you've never heard it before you understand it. Which is a strange way to think of language but it's a great way to think about communication. Aww, you know what I mean. How many times a day do you hear someone say that? And you do know what they mean, somehow your brain makes the call. Having collected all the crucial communication information. The speaker, the topic and the time. These factors clean up sloppy lines of communication. So, let the conversation satisfication begin.
While spending some much needed time kissing tha'Babe, I couldn't help but see how little talking was required for me to understand exactly what she meant. Most of the time it was just small talk, but I would think that's even harder for an 8 month old. As we grow up we forget how to communicate on the basic human level. Please don't take this to mean we should start crying, throwing things and screaming to get our points across-though for some of us it's too late. Instead consider that a wink and smile can go a long way in all languages.
With instant communication at our fingertips. We are infinitely connected and all within arms reach. These little devices being constantly forgotten, causing heart attacks and anxiety. Most of us suffering from a severe case of the where is it?Oh there it is. Phew-itis. It's hard to comprehend how we could loose track of how important and special those names, places and photos really are. I remember the social calls. The teenage hour long conversations. The ringing doorbell. The playdates. And the Sunday check-ins. In my pocket I have all the information I could ever want. Dates, times and events all collected in one tiny hand held horcrux; communicating has never been easier. Though the digital siren's call is a tough one to ignore. It is my goal to put down my fruity apendage and really stay connected. And even if I can't peel it off; I will never underestimate the power of a smile. Now, that's what I call satisfication. Oh, you know what I mean.
Growing up in a small town, there's lots of time for reflection. Time to sit by the river and wait for your enemies to roll by or read the Art of War. It's up to you. There is always more time and it's never to late to write your wrongs. My Grandma Far was a fan of two nuggets of truth. 1. What's for you doesn't go by you. Which means, if you're destined to have something or you've earned it, you'll get it. And 2. The whole world can't be wrong. Meaning, if you're the only one to see things your way, you're probably wrong. And I am. I have been wrong a lot lately. Which is not to say I haven't been trying, I've just been trying the wrong things the right way and ignoring the right things the wrong way
The strangest part about being wrong is that you don't realize it until it's too late. Sad, but true. If l had stopped to listen to the oh so very many voices of reason while on this tunnel vision express train, I probably wouldn't have F*ed things up...quite so badly. There were warning signs- I ignored. There were beacons of information- I ignored. How about the pony express telegrams I received, but instead of reading, I did what, oh that's right- I ignored them. Hubby says that people need to go through a selfish faze, especially when their goals are as lofty as mine. Here is the problem though. I am double crossing myself. Hedging my bets. By putting in the effort for the things I need to be good at to achieve my goals, I risk losing the things I am already great at. And I don't like that, it feels wrong.
When it feels like the world hates my guts, there is special person I turn to. The man behind the curtain. My Papa B; renowned grump and philosopher. Plus sometimes I just need to talk to my Daddy. As I wept onto my smart phone, my Papa B apologized for giving me his guarded and easily aggravated genes. He is convinced that he is responsible for the not-so-social quirks my Bro and I share. Which are many and widely varied. This might explain why the only person the 3 of us really trust is my Momma. I know he's wrong about giving me all my quirks cuz I got a few from my Momma as well. But where things really go wrong is when the two gene pools collide. My Papa B's shrouded mystery with my Momma's need to shout it from the rooftops. My Papa B's grumpiness with my Momma's need to please. Papa B took an hour on a windy almost winter day to talk me down from a lonely breezy, freezing ledge and what I needed to hear most was the last thing he said: "No matter how wrong you are. If you apologize and mean it, there will always be time to right what you've wronged, if that's what you want." And I want to. Living life right is about maintenance, it takes work. You're never wrong for wanting to better yourself. But there is a right way to do it. As for their genes, they may never fit me and look flattering. But my Mom's genes will sure look good with my New Balance *insert coy wink for my funny little play on words*
Heading into the busy holiday season I thought I would try to organize myself. I would love to be one of those "5 year plan-It's all going according to schedule" girls but these are words I have never uttered. Ever. There are things I am good at organizing; like other people's events-which can be very helpful this season. But there are organizational tools that elude me, for example choreographing a Puppy and Kitty Xmas Carolling Concert- I don't know how those animals on the radio do it. Oh and Social planning. It's not my forte. Please let me explain. I am great in social situations, it's all the other stuff that goes with them that I stink at.
Firstly, I am not a good planner. Not to mean I can't make plans and keep them. It's just that I like to fly by the seat of my pants which means I leave a lot up to destiny. I make general plans with multiple options for amusement. Letting myself go with the flow- a BFF trick extraordinaire. It's a lot more fun that way. Unless of course you're married to the Commish, who must account for every minute he's on the clock, otherwise the boys upstairs will start giving him heat; and he's too old for that.
Secondly, I tend to double, triple and in rare cases even quintuple book myself. The enthusiasm of just being invited somewhere clouds my judgment, going against all scientific theories of time and space. Which I hope by this time in the year 2014 (baring the Rapture) we'll have solved. And I will be able to attend all events simultaneously on a fractured timeline.
Thirdly, distraction. I am easily distracted. Oh! A squirrel!
Fourthly, short term memory loss. Did someone say something about squirrels? If I don't write it down it's gone.
Fifthly, I forget every year this coming month goes by so fast and then the parties are over. It's a busy blur of festive cheer. Leaving us in the Daylight savings dark with nothing to celebrate until Valentine's day.
So, I hope this year to take advantage of some much needed celebrating. Despite all my social foibles. There something relieving about FB holiday invites going out early and the pre-event planning I've been involved in. So, this year I look forward to wrapping myself up in an ugly Sandy Clause sweater and enjoying all the miracles and merriment of the season. At least that's my plan;)
Dear Teenage Angst,
First and foremost I want you to know I love you. I may not always like you but I do love you. There are so many things I want you to know. Like once upon a time long, long ago, I was your age. Believe it or not, but I was. Things were different then. I made mix tapes and passed notes that would go on for days. I lived in a small town, where everyone knew my beeswax. We didn't have FB. I took keyboarding class on a typewriter for crying out loud. Things have chaged, and I know that, but the more things change the more they stay the same. There are always going to be people who are mean. There will always be people who are different.
Being in highschool stinks. All those hormones flying around. Teenagers unable to express themselves in a clear and direct manner. Which often means they will lash out and hurt each other because they don't know any other way. Somedays it will feel like you're doing everything wrong. But here's what you should remember. You're so lucky to be loved. Lucky to be alive and lucky to live here. Things may seem hard, and somedays they will be, but trust me when I tell you. The adult you want to become is inside of you. Waiting for their chance to grow up. This is not an order for you to stop being a kid. Heck, I am still a kid. This is the suggestion to step back, and really look at the world around you. The people you've got. The way you live your life. Are you the person you hope to be? The person you want the world to see? Perhaps instead of complaining about the things that are wrong with the world; you suggest ways to change it. Be the change you want to see in the world. Maybe you could spend some time helping others, like your mother, your father, your neighbour or dare I say it your little brother.
There is a whole wide world out there. And soon you will be sent out into it to fend for yourself. Trusted with the information you've gathered to make your own way. I know you can do it, people less brave than you have, and they seem, well, alright. Angst, we know that under all those wacky teenage emotions, the sweet child we all want to take care of is still there. But you make it tough for people to love you. And really, that's all we've ever wanted to do.
Yours Meliciously,
The Adults in your Life
P.S. I have a few tricks for dealing with tough people, when you finally admit you don't know everything.
Growing thoughts in the garden of your mind. There's a feeling when an idea is just a tickle. Hiding untold secrets like pollen or maple keys. Ticking time lapse photography as the idea starts to germinate. Splitting open like the seeds of fortune. Sprouting stems and growing into the flowers of imagination. Before you know it, you're tending to row on row; heavy with the fruits of your labour.
Have you been thinking about something? Something important. Something that just won't uproot itself from your mind. Maybe you've lost something or you're formulating a complex theory about *insert science methodology here. Maybe it's a never ending to do list. If you're lucky it's a beautiful concept yet to be planted. But what if it's a weed? Strangling all your smaller thoughts and blocking out the sun? When you're working on a problem, it can be hard to hoe another row. But sometimes the only thing that ever really removes a stubborn stone is to stop thinking so much. Think about something else. That's the way brains work. Your mind is a delicately balanced eco-system. Sun, rain and love will help your thoughts to grow up strong and healthy.
I don't have a green thumb by any means, but I live for spring flowers and summer fruits. Every spring ideas burst forth in radiant colour. But beware. Winter is coming. Now is the time to plant your thought bulbs. Let them take root. Awaking as the winter earth thaws. Your idea will poke it's delicate green stem through the softening ground. Waiting patiently for that spring sunshine to warm the earth. For me spring is further away than I can stand. Perhaps I should invest in a greenhouse to cultivate my ideas all year round.
There is a group of people who shine. They've got that certain something. That intangible spark. The X Factor. The Voice. They are a gangplank walking, chicken skin giving group. Overflowing with that very special something that sets them apart from the herd. The unique flare; a thing that people want to look at, talk about, dream about, drool over, wonder at, remember and cry over. It's hard to describe what makes a person a superstar, but I am willing to bet, it has something to do with three easily identifiable markers. And the unlikely combination created within that Shinning star. Creating a chemical reaction worth watching.
Talent- These are the people you can't stop watching. The people who sing the doors off- Whitney, Celine. Or the way Ansel Adams can make you feel thirsty. In this group we have dancers, writers, actors. Daniel Day's dedication to lifestyle immersion. They are the fireworks. They burn so beautifully bright. Typically they burn hard and fast. Streaking across the sky. Just catching them in the corner of your eye is lucky.
Confidence- Maybe it's the Cee Lo Green variety. Perhaps it's the confidence that Christina has in those mini skirts. It's that strut the angels have when they're telling secrets. The way a lead singer makes eyes at the camera. It's the stance. The swagger. It's shivering and sparkling. All the Bam Bam, all deliciously wrapped with a tiny little bow.
Personality- It's the distinctive late night gap toothed laugh. Then it's about creating a catch phrase. It's Farah Fawcett's blonde fringe. Monroe and Chaplin with their distinctive walks. Andy Warhol painting an iconic eye. The breathy vulnerability heard from the blues. It's the devil in their eyes. Unexpected punchlines. The suspenders and heart shaped glasses. It's a big floppy straw hat and pink boots.
The things that make you go boom. As a performer I fall into 1.75 of these categories. My personality is a solid 8.5, my confidence hovers between 6-8 and my talent varies greatly from passing to fancy. It plays into my favour that I am tenacious with a side of lazy. The good news is I am starting to know where I am going as a clear destination. I won't stop, cuz I can't stop. I am figuring out what it takes to make myself someone that burns brightly. A show must go on type of girl. I am on the road to giving goose flesh. They say knowledge is power and I am learning quite a bit about this crazy place and this even crazier business. But I don't think I'll ever stop lookin' at the stars.
So, it was six weeks ago that I faced facts and stared the terrible truth dead in the eye. Not liking what I saw I decided that it was time for action. I am the captain of my own destiny and if I truly wanted to reach the end of this life long journey without reget, it was time I took the wheel. Since then I have up-ed my effort, my enthusiasm and my fiber. It was time for a change or 12, and I have been working my way through the ever lengthening list tortoise style. This is a race I want to win.
I have been visiting "gym mirror me" 3 or 4 times a week. She looks a lot more comfortable in her lulus, they don't bunch as much. Nothing less flattering than a yoga pant camel toe. Though, I don't believe I am ready quite yet for the apparently fashionable gym rat short shorts. A fad which is strange to me because who wants more of their skin touching the common elements? Interestingly, I have started to schedule my workouts. Finding time between the skimmed milk wonder twins who play their music too loud and never break a sweat and the grunting guy who reminds me of that viral video where that Russian strains so hard his insides fall out. Watching others in the gym setting I finally get why at home gyms are popular. It's amazing how much better it would be to have my own wall of frosted mirrors, wind machine, bow flex and a slightly dimmer, more flattering light.
My eating habits are back to mostly veggies with the occasional bacon slip. Eating clean foods like arugula, kale and whole grains. With a daily boost of fiber, just to add... interest. I think I finally get what those cryptic commercials mean by 'regular'. Salads and live sprouts are at the top of my list. Late night binges have almost disappeared. Though there are days when I still crave junk. It would be a lie to say that I never think about hot wings, Doritos and orange Crush. But I think that's the fear and self-defeat talking and they weren't invited to this party.
Even though I haven't lost weight I feel tighter. My big jeans are loose. My skinny jeans are still too skinny, but I don't look like Molly Muffin top anymore. Which is a good feeling. Now I am able to sport my whole wardrobe, not just my fat pants. The worry that after dinner and drinks I will swell and push the seams to extremes is gone. I feel more confident wearing flirty skirts and leggings. It's a good start. The worst*fingers crossed* is yet to come, when I hopefully*arms crossed too* I become too small for all my clothes and they hang off me like some bigger girl's hand-me-downs.
Anybody who says improving themselves was easy is only saying it to make you feel bad. Life is hard. Being good is hard. Living a good life well is harder. And being the best you and becoming a benefit to yourself is the hardest. Things are getting better and less hard. Firmer yes, but not harder. I am starting to see what a difference little changes can make, and I can't wait to see what some bigger changes will, well, change:). So, stay brave, be bold and sweat those pre-Xmas stresses out. And even though I thought I would have made more numeric progress, I feel better than I have in months. So, how could I complain about that? Wait, I'm sure I can find a way...
And now for the moment we've been waiting for: Week 6 measurements
Height still 5'8"
Weight 176.2 (+1.8)
Bust 40 (-/+)
Natural waist 32.5 (-.5")
Hips 43 (-1")
Arm flex r:13.25 (-.5") l:13.5 (-/+)
Arm rest r: 13.5 (-/+) l:13.5 (-/+)
Thigh standing r: 24.75 (+.25) l:24.5 (-.5)
For a total loss of 1.75 inches
P.S. BFF says it's not the weight that I should focus on it's the measurements. Which except the bust are heading in the right direction. Which is a good thing/ bad thing I think.
The Dawn is Breaking, the dream is over. I’m a “Twilight” super fan and now I’m going national, having been invited to share my enthusiasm with a country of screaming fans. Breaking Dawn pt2 marks the final installment the Twlight saga. A sad day. I’m also a card carrying member of Team Jacob, though not necessarily team Lautner, as he was very much a minor when this whole thing began (I have the same issue with Bieber, but that's another story). The ultimate question for Twi-hards: are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?
Vampires are often tortured souls who live eternal lives. There is something undeniably romantic about a 1000-year-old falling in love with you. You're the most beautiful person he's ever met. You’re the object he's been undying for. You’re his mate…and vampires mate for life! Those mates join Covens – together – for the entire afterlife. But the idea of having to consume blood to stay 'alive', well, that's a choice I'd rather not make. I’m even squeamish around Grey's Anatomy blood.
Werewolves on the other hand are monsters. But they are also warm and fuzzy. Once a month they get furry and ferocious. The Twilight werewolf pack, however, are really more shape-shifters than werewolves, in the typical sense. They have rage issues and can be dangerous to those they love and those who love them. But their love is everlasting- ah hello- imprinted! As pack animals, you're stuck with your pack. And being part of that pack isn’t chosen, it's genetic, which is tough cuz you have to take into account that any pups in your litter could be werewolves too.
It's tough to pick a side.
In the ever-hopeful event that any of these mystical things actually happen, I choose werewolf -to be diplomatic. It's only fair that I give Edward to my girlfriend. I mean, she did invite me to the tiny town of Forks. However, we do have an agreement that should Edward truly love me, she would gracefully resign her affections. As any good friend would for eternal love. Fingers crossed, I'll be able to pick a few more members of that coven. There are people I wouldn't want to be undead without:)
There are some people who don't like the idea of a little girl (or boy) wanting to be a Princess. Well, I thought it was time we clear the air in this stuffy castle tower. The only problem I have with a little girl (or boy) wanting to be a Princess is if they don't realize it means a lot of hard work and hurtful stereotypes. A Princess has to be ready for anything.
There are many different types of Princesses. Some are born into it, some marry into it and some who've chosen that life path. The anti-princess people have only ever seen their side of the argument. Princesses are entitled, demanding and weak. And sadly, I admit that they can be right. That some real life Princesses are not good people. But some real world Princesses-especially those who don't have an official title- are invaluable to their kingdom.
Being an unregistered Princess, I have been judged. I'm naive, though I consider it hopeful. I'm over sensitive, but I prefer the term tender. A Princess who chooses their path knows there will be pitfalls and hopes to avoid them. Leading her subjects to safety and ultimately happiness. But the most important part about being a Princess is fighting for what is true and good. Love is a huge part of that. What else could invite tiny woodland creatures to your side? Have them compose a tune in your honour and convince them to make you the most beautiful ball gown...I mean obviously, you must be lovely. It is a Princess' duty to protect the weak. Being a Princess means that you have to work hard at being the royal beacon your kingdom can follow and be proud of. So, take that Princess-haters, but swallow it with a spoonful of sugar- it'll go down easier:)
If you got a problem yo I'll solve it. If you have a gap I can fill it. I am your go to gal for all things great and small. Writer's cramp? I will massage it. Strained emotion? I will decompress it. If you need something it's quite likely I can do it, or at the very least I know someone who can get it for you. I am a great Sidekick, a keen Girl Friday, a worthy friend and a diabolical adversary. I am that girl.
All my life I have been an avid learner. I've always wanted to figure out the world around me. My interest in teaching myself knick-knack-knowledge makes me an invaluable font of information- both useful or useless. I know so many useless facts, formulas and theories that I've been accused of memorizing MindTrap- a card game designed to encourage lateral thinking. I am good with puzzles, especially word games. If you like trivia, I am your gal. If you want to beat someone at trivia- I am even more your girl. But what I am the best at is getting things done.
I am not your typical enforcer. I am a suggestion based outcome manipulator. I have perfected the communication of ideas to the point where others actually believe these ideas were their own. Which can be good and grotesque in equal parts. Lucky folks get to experience things the way I have predicted to be best, but it also means I am held responsible when things go off track. Having people believe that my suggestion are their own idea, has my clients taking all the credit. And as good as I am at most things- sharing is not on that list. Who in the Frak is Sharon?!? With that in mind, have you got a problem to be dealt with? Perhaps you've got a mystery in need of solving. I am a excellent fixer. Though I charge by the hour plus expenses- including disguises :)
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