Let’s face it, 2017 was a tough year. It is understandable to want to rush out of the dying embers of 2017 into the bright light of a new year with refreshed ambitions and hopes. Even the movie the Last Jedi, in all it’s darkness, ends with a message of hope. Enter in the traditional of New Year’s resolution. Statements of resolve in which we dedicate ourselves to new (or recycled) personnel goals and objectives….
Proud Mary
The perfect pair of jeans will be the answer to all of our problems. They will make us more attractive, sexier and declare our independent. They are a staple in the modern wardrobe. The truth is I have never owned a pair of jeans that made me more attractive or sexy. In fact, it may be the most difficult article of clothing to buy, after swimsuits of course. For a very short period of my…
My favorite jeans don’t fit anymore. I have had these jeans for over 7 years. Over those years my size has fluctuated. The jeans are a bit looser in the summer, a bit tighter after January. I have a closet full of clothes that work in all stages of my body’s shapes; monthly blues, super athletic, somewhat athletic, and not at all in shape aka post holiday wear. My body has always made its way…
Yesterday I killed it. I biked to the pool, swam 1000 yards, biked home and even lifted a few weights while watching Lucifer on iTunes. (I like dark bad boys) Today I ate two bowls of chocolate peanut butter granola (after my breakfast) and took at nap at 10:30 this morning. I have never been told; you are a really well adjusted balanced person. Teachers hounded me about being more consistent in my work. Bosses…
A couple of years ago I realized I had been on some kind of “diet” for 2 decades. Twenty years of not liking my body, of wishing I look different, slimmer, fitter, and prettier. Sure, there were short periods of indulgence, like vacations or the Christmas holidays. There were also periods of brief acceptance, but for the most part my eating habits had focused on weight lose/weight management for two decades. I remember my first…
My brain never shuts up. Seriously. Never. It was recently pointed out to me that when our brains stop thinking we are most likely dead. But why does mine have to be so damn loud? It is like a freight train in my head. ALL THE TIME. It’s not like it is even productive thinking. It is largely just noise to second-guess and confuse me. A long running favorite is what I call the Mary…
I was six when I realized I was a fraud. Somehow at the young age of five I had tricked the school district into believing I qualified for the gifted and talented program. By the second grade I was struggling with spelling simple words, vocabulary assignments and reading out-loud. I realized the jig would be up soon, everyone would know that I was really a dumb kid. Desperate, I tired to think of a plan…
Right up front a few of things you should know. I am not a writer. I am dyslexic and have been told my whole life I am not a writer, my writing is bad. Teachers, co-working, and bosses and have told me I am lazy and that I just don’t want to get better. * I am not pretty. I am not thin. I don’t see a lot of pictures in the media of women…