tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44855909572876061272024-03-04T10:51:32.735-08:00Just Me, Thinking AgainJust me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-84002863303805487512011-09-11T19:37:00.000-07:002011-09-11T19:37:03.729-07:00My Cosmic Doppelganger Is An Evil Bitch!So I was watching this show called Curiosity on the Science Channel. The episode was called “Parallel Universes: Are They Real?” On the show, Cosmologist Max Tegmark, speaking about repeating patterns, said: “When I say all patterns of atoms repeat, I really mean all patterns. Even the pattern of atoms that makes up me, Max Tegmark. If I go far enough away there is going to be another exact copy of me who will not just look like me, but feel like he is me.”<br />
<br />
Wow, that’s pretty cool. So there’s another one of me somewhere else in the universe. I imagine her to be a skinny, super cool, version of me. She hasn’t had to deal with Type 2 Diabetes, sugar/food addiction, or any of the other issues that stress me out, like having to be on a really strict calorie count in order to lose any weight. I imagine she is the me who has successfully managed her weight. But then, of course, reality came crashing back down around me. Wait . . . What did he say? Another EXACT copy? Well, shit, that means she is some alternate skinny me. That means she’s probably struggling with her weight just the same as me. Wait. What if I am the exact copy? Does that mean we are connected in some weird cosmic way? What I do affects her and what she does affects me? Cool! Wait. Shit. THAT BITCH! She’s probably over there sitting on her fat ass eating fucking bon bons and watching Stargate SG-1 reruns as I type this! She is the reason I have so much trouble losing weight. That must be it.<br />
<br />
So not only do I have all the various reasons in my universe holding me back - Type 2 Diabetes, food addiction, emotional eating, the yummy deliciousness of Tapatio flavored Doritos (damn them!) – but now I have to contend with my cosmic doppelganger sabotaging my every effort with her cotton candy eating self. How do I know she’s eating cotton candy right now? Because I am THINKING of cotton candy right now. She’s taunting me with her evil twin me eating habits! THAT BITCH! <br />
<br />
Well, I am glad that I finally learned about her sabotaging, evil, pernicious existence. You know what, I don’t even know if ‘pernicious’ is an appropriate word for that sentence, because I can’t think off the top of my head what it means (it’s that fucking bitches’ fault – she’s overloaded me with sugar!), but it sounded good, so I using it. My point being, now that I know about her, I can work to counteract all of her evil undermining of my success. Then, she’ll be in her reality eating donuts and sucking down Dr. Pepper (NOT DIET) and telling her friends “I KNOW, RIGHT? It’s like I can eat anything and still lose weight.” Yeah, so I won’t get credit for making my evil twin me’s life bloody brilliant, but I at least have the satisfaction of knowing that my evil twin’s evil twin versions of my friends will be totally insane with jealousy. <br />
<br />
I know that might sound a bit catty of me, but you have to remember these are my evil twin friends, not my real friends who are totally cool and amazingly awesome and supportive. I mean, let’s face it, my friends rock. But not me evil twin’s friends. They are equally as evil as she is and are probably talking about her behind her back all the time and being totally catty. So, see, I am just helping my evil twin me to not be the ‘Dinner for Schmucks’ version of me. Because I am philanthropic like that.<br />
<br />
So the next time you are working extra hard on sticking to your healthy eating game plan or having a tough time avoiding stress eating, just think of your evil twin you in the other evil twin parallel reality and all her jealous, backstabbing evil twin friends, suck it up, take one for the team and say: “This one is for you, evil twin me!”<br />
<br />
Yeah, she may be an evil bitch, but I kinda like her.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-65127105515661910712011-02-21T23:37:00.000-08:002011-02-24T16:11:01.189-08:00In Defense of Women"Making the world a safer place, 12-16 women at a time." That was his motto. Even while screaming obscenities in my face. Even while calling me horrible names and telling me the disgusting things he would do to me. Even while physically attacking me.<br />
<br />
Sound awful? It was. But it was also three of the best days of my life. Who is this man who felt he was making the world a safer place while being completely creepy, verbally inappropriate and forcing me to roll over and spread my legs? He was my mock assailant and I love him for every horrible minute of it. <br />
<br />
I recently attended a three day self-defense course taught by Impact Bay Area, a non-profit organization with the goal of teaching women and teens not only how to defend themselves from people who would verbally and/or physically attempt to invade their personal boundaries, but also how to heal mentally and emotionally from past attacks in order to move beyond them and feel safe and strong. This isn't any run-of-the-mill self-defense course. This course trains you to use mind, body and voice to defend yourself. It teaches you muscle memory by allowing you to practice full force defense techniques with a fully padded mock assailant.<br />
<br />
Full. Force. Fighting. = Awesome.<br />
<br />
It was three of the hardest days of my life, but when I emerged from each 8 hour day exhausted, sore, and sometimes even bruised and bleeding, I found a new me. One filled with awe and confidence and strength. These three days were spread out over a three week period and in the intervening weeks I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. Yes, I hurt. Yes, I bled. Yes, I sustained a mild concussion. (Tuck your chin, ladies, tuck your chin. Protect your head and keep it off the ground!) But I know I'll do it again. It is a small price to pay for all I have gained.<br />
<br />
I have not been raped or even physically attacked before, but that didn't stop me from feeling completely intimidated and overwhelmed by the thought of the emotional and physical toll this class would take. I knew it was going to be intense and would bring out fears and emotional scars I didn't even know existed. I found that I was not alone. The general agreement among all of my classmates was that while we all wanted to be there, we were all equally terrified, too. Gathering strength from that comraderie, I dove right in and was the first to openly cry. I hoped I wouldn't, but it didn't really surprise me considering I can pretty much cry at almost anything. This probably would have been less embarassing if it had been brought on by something more intrusive than "introduce yourself, tell us why you're here and what you hope to get out of this class." Yeah, to my great annoyance, I often find it hard to get through any strong emotions without tears. Did I mentioned I felt overwhelmed and intimidated? It was in that moment, however, that I decided what I wanted out of class was a way to find my voice while leaving the tears behind. I got this and so much more.<br />
<br />
Day one we learned how to use our voices, how to hold our ground and our first core defense techniques that we would build on through the course. While I was certain that I had the physical strength to knee an attacker in the groin with the best of them, I was also pretty sure I would fail miserably in the "using my voice" portion of the training. Let me explain by saying I am NOT a confrontational person. I don't even like it when I am an observer to confrontation. It's so full of horrible negative vibes, anger and unwanted attention that I pretty much will avoid it at all costs. And in the past I have, even at the cost of losing my own personal boundaries. To say that I was shocked to find myself screaming (in front of all these strangers no less) at my mock assailant, telling him to BACK OFF and GO AWAY is an understatement. To say that it felt good to do so . . . unimaginable. Within a mere few hours I had found my voice. And it was loud and strong and empowering. But verbal attacks were only the beginning. Day one also brought physical attacks. From the front, from behind, pulling you, pushing you, grabbing your hair, picking you up and tackling you to the ground. I learned that yes, even I can immediately drop to the ground poised for a groin kick when faced with a charging person intent on hurting me. I learned that I can even do that without breaking a hip (who knew?), or feeling any pain. Adrenalin, I learned, is a wonderful thing. Addictive even.<br />
<br />
At day two's check-in I was, mercifully, tear free. YES! We proceeded into a review of what we learned on day one and then further into new attack positions and scenarios. Foolishly, I had come away from day one surprised that our assailants didn't swear at us more. But day two introduced reversals. Think home invasion, it's 2 a.m. and you're sound asleep. Reversals are up close and personal and start on the ground, laying down, with your eyes closed. Reversals also brought a new level of verbal abuse which shocked us and caused us to cry. Verbal abuse can be more intimidating than physical violence. Day two we learned to "go to zero," one of the most difficult and most powerful positions you can be in. That's where you force yourself to stop fighting, try to ignore him as he tells you in the most disgusting way possible how worthless you are, how much you're going to enjoy this, how much he's going to enjoy this; where you remain limp and allow him to move you into vulnerable positions as you wait for that precious, golden moment when he thinks you have given up and he releases an arm or leans all his weight on you and you can finally strike a blow or heave him over and kick as hard as you can. Did I mention that adrenalin is a wonderful, addictive thing? Especially once you learn to work through it without panic and use it to your advantage.<br />
<br />
While I expected day three to be physically exhausting, it also brought a new intimidation I didn't expect. Did you know that about half of all sexual assaults involve a demand for oral sex? Me either. Who would think that men would be stupid enough to put their penis near a pair of unwilling teeth? Actually, we were told the word in this situation is not so much "stupid" as "arrogant." They are counting on you to be so intimidated by their verbal assault and at having a penis shoved in your face that you will actually comply with this request without biting. Mind-boggling, I know, but it's true and sadly, it works. This brought a whole new level of creepy innuendo and verbal trash talk from our mock assailants. For me and my non-confrontational nature, it brought a whole new level of feeling helpless and uncomfortable. What can be more confrontational than having a penis shoved in your face? Yeah, OK, he's wearing like 3 inches of padding, but that doesn't stop it from feeling invasive and gross anyway. You know why? Because it is. But you know what it didn't bring? Tears. We had all become strong enough that even this new level of intimidation could not take away the power we had already claimed. Our response? FU creepy dude! We will bite that penis and/or administer a move aptly named "the weenie whomp." Although we were taught to strike twice with the weenie whomp before pushing ourselves away, I noticed that pretty much everyone struck about 3-4 times instead. It was just such an inviting target at that point and, well, I've mentioned that adrenalin thing right?<br />
<br />
Day three also brought extended fights to give you the experience of fighting off an assailant who might be on drugs or in a psychotic break and who has a higher than normal pain tolerance level because of it. It's where we learned that even though your mind is telling you to quit, even though you feel like your legs have stopped working, even though you can barely gasp for breath, you find deep inside there is strength for one more elbow strike, strength to deliver a final kick to the head, pick yourself up off the ground and run for help. <br />
<br />
Day three ended with a public celebration in which you could invite friends and family to come and see what you have been learning. A chance for the instructors to tell them about what they teach and why they shouldn't practice these techniques at home with you. (Full force = no pulling punches.) A chance to show them the fights and how you are able to defend and protect yourself in various situations. Afterwards my husband told me that even though it was difficult to see me in such a vulnerable position, he did feel better knowing now that I could defend myself if necessary. And while it was difficult to watch my daughter hide her face when the physical attacks were too uncomfortable and cover her ears when the verbal attacks too harsh, I knew she was learning that even though there are bad people who do disgusting things, you can fight back and defend yourself. She now wants to take the teen class and learn to defend herself.<br />
<br />
I was lucky enough to not have to pay for my class this time as it was a gift from my employer, but most people don't have this option. Fortunately, Impact Bay Area offers a scholarship for women who are not able to afford the cost of the class themselves. They are able to do so with donations they receive from people like me and people like you. And there are many ways to donate. You can donate money, time, supplies and by shopping. Yep, you heard me. Click on links from their website to Amazon and 6% of your order total will be donated to the organization. How's that for easy? <a href="http://www.impactbayarea.org/impact.php?support">http://www.impactbayarea.org/impact.php?support</a> Impact Bay Area is part of a non-profit that has Chapters in many different locations and you will most likely be able to find one near you. I urge you to donate or at least spread the word about this wonderful opportunity with women you know and love. Helping women to become strong and confident is one of the best things you can do for them. <br />
<br />
From this course I learned that I have the right to set boundaries and have others respect those boundaries without having to justify them. I don't have to be afraid when commuting, grocery shopping, or going out alone. I learned that I have the right to enjoy my life the way I want to without anyone taking that away from me and that I can protect myself and those around me. I learned that speaking up will not provoke an attacker, but will cause them to back down in the face of opposition. I learned that an attacker does not decide to rape you because anything you say, do or wear provokes him, but that attacker has already decided to rape and is merely looking for someone to intimidate and overpower. I refuse to be that person. I refuse to let others around me be that person. I have a strong mind, a strong body and a loud voice and I'm no longer afraid to use them.<br />
<br />
I did not accomplish any of this on my own. I had the help of 1 lead instructor, 2 assistant instructors, 2 mock assailant instructors and 12 other women who were all equally committed to the goal of making the world a safer place, 12-16 women at a time.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-21187637972882217232011-02-15T17:06:00.000-08:002011-02-15T17:06:19.568-08:00Plateaus to Flatlines to Hurdles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5jc2aIm12G9aocvF-WT9g0rM7uxIlvcHRu1vT2vSdAN5bLeU_724iE0WJHEQAw2N_5XIQlteCJScZpAdFMF5C9WGe5hYjKnblwmX2S8hSMJMWkHLuFB9I41SYXpdjWB_VU19Aq-fC3s/s1600/Flatline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5jc2aIm12G9aocvF-WT9g0rM7uxIlvcHRu1vT2vSdAN5bLeU_724iE0WJHEQAw2N_5XIQlteCJScZpAdFMF5C9WGe5hYjKnblwmX2S8hSMJMWkHLuFB9I41SYXpdjWB_VU19Aq-fC3s/s200/Flatline.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Plateaus. If you've ever tried to lose weight or known someone who's tried to lose weight or even read an article about losing weight, then you've heard about the horror of plateaus. <br />
<br />
It's not even a nice sounding word. Platt Toes. Feels a lot like splat on your toes. <br />
<br />
My body has decided to set a flattoe of it's own and has remained doggedly persistent in sticking to it. Oddly enough, it is exactly at the initial goal weight I set over two years ago. My mini goal. My first goal. I will get below xx weight. Over. Two. Years. Ago.<br />
<br />
It's not like I haven't made progress toward this goal. I've lost 20 lbs to get to this goal and had to learn to change my eating habits completely. I've had to work at changing my relationship to food. I've had to give up one of my closest friends and allies. My comfortable and safe place. I've had to venture into the world of standing on my own two feet. Alone. Without the comfort of warm buttered bread, bagels and potato chips.<br />
<br />
It took me a few years of stops and starts and slips and falls before I figured out how to traverse this mountain at a slow and steady pace that gets results, instead of the free for all sprint to the top. You would think the sprint to the top would work. Sadly, it just results in sprained ankles, broken bones, cuts and bruises as you find yourself back at the bottom, once again.<br />
<br />
For the past five months, however, I have lost and gained the same 5 lbs as I attempt again and again to traverse the plateau my body has set for itself. Last week I even came within 3 ounces of reaching that goal. To be smacked right back down this week with hormones and bloating and a curse which doctors and the advertising industry continually try to convince women is a gift and a blessing. But as I stare at my scale showing a 2 lb gain; I know better.<br />
<br />
I tell myself it will be better in a week in the hopes this will help me resist the urge to run to the store for that bag of Cheetos that is calling me. Good 'ol Chester. He'd never tell me I was fat. But then again, he'd never told me that 86% of corn products in the US are genetically modified either. He's not really my friend. He just pretends to be. He can stay at the store then for all I care. Last thing I need now is a faux friend!<br />
<br />
I'm hanging in there, but I won't pretend that it's not frustrating and depressing to keep coming so close, only to be put off once again. I know if I could get past the mental fatigue that keeps me from exercising each and every single day that I would probably break this plateau. But, for now, that seems to be the hardest thing to do.<br />
<br />
So tell me . . . what do you do to get beyond that mental exercise fatigue? The part of your brain that is fighting so hard to keep every last ounce of fat that it completely incapacitates your will to spend 30, 20 or even 10 extra minutes a day in motion? It's not physical. Physically my body is screaming out for me to go hit that weight bench, go walk around the block, pull out the Wii Fit. But everytime my mind just shuts me down. How do you take a plateau that feels like a flatline and turn that into a hurdle that can be surmounted? What works for you?<br />
<br />
Where is it inside that you find that motivation? Obviously, I haven't found mine yet. I must not be looking in the right place. Or perhaps I just need a fucking flashlight.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-50739164482815276562011-02-07T09:00:00.000-08:002011-02-07T09:00:12.431-08:00Bionic Chicken Was A Bust!Well, shit. So I managed to get the heat right on my Bionic Chicken recipe. But the flavor was not there. It was just hot. So, I will have to go back to the drawing board. That's good and bad. Good because that means I'll have to eat some more of that yummy chicken. Bad because that yummy chicken does not have my best interests at heart. It merely wants to freeload off of me by hanging around on my hips. Fucker! Get your own ride. <br />
<br />
As soon as I can muster up the willpower. I will buy some to take home and let my husband eat it and tell me what spices he thinks we need to add. One day Thai Spicy Chicken aka Bionic Chicken . . . one day I will own you!Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-65054106055235502082011-02-04T13:56:00.000-08:002011-02-04T14:06:15.615-08:00This Chicken Is Making Me Fat(ter); So I'm Turning It Bionic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgPtCdSFx8DE0Ied2EitYtOY2MKIttrD2TPCAilp9Jz1i9biMO7IW67ElR-M2wKo2frm9yzU5_EJ5tBlIQq1fEkFsIvY5oHofWAyRVBQh5WfdAfam6FBYUNi16rjrsQuvYtKJHXA9mCI/s1600/Nemesis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTgPtCdSFx8DE0Ied2EitYtOY2MKIttrD2TPCAilp9Jz1i9biMO7IW67ElR-M2wKo2frm9yzU5_EJ5tBlIQq1fEkFsIvY5oHofWAyRVBQh5WfdAfam6FBYUNi16rjrsQuvYtKJHXA9mCI/s320/Nemesis.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This is my nemesis. At least it's my nemesis for this week. The chicken, not the carrots. Duh. The Chinese restaurant where I buy it calls it Spicy Thai Chicken. I suspect they aren't making this particular dish in Thailand. Do they use a lot of Jalapenos in Thailand? I think not. It's OK. I can get over the misnomer. What I can't get over is the 2 pounds I gained this week because of my "need" to eat this spicy, spicy dish 3 days in a row. Just when I was doing so well . . . <br />
<br />
My mission this weekend is clear: make a better, healthier version. Less frying, no breading, all the great spicy hotness. Less chili oil? Definitely. This version is practically floating in it. Seriously. Before eating it, I deconstructed it so I could attempt to guess at what spices where used. (Apparently I think I am a human mass spectrometer. Google it. Or better yet, just watch NCIS; Abby will enlighten you.) Anyway, I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah, deconstructing my food. I could see the chicken was practically infused with the chili oil. So that tells me I should probably marinate the chicken in some sort of chili type paste and/or liquid before cooking it.<br />
<br />
Ooh, and I'll need a catchy name for it. I can't call it Spicy Thai Chicken. It's spicy but it's not Thai and, well, that name's already taken. But it needs a name that will reflect it's remarkable improvement. Yes, I have confidence in my abilities here! And after all, it WILL be better for me and a remarkable improvement for my health. Hmmmm . . . I'll rebuild it. Better, faster, stronger . . . THAT'S IT! I'll call it "Bionic Chicken." Better, healthier, hotter. OK, maybe not hotter because it's pretty darn spicy as it is, but at least as hot. Then I'll make about a week's worth of them, bring them to work and I won't have to worry about giving into my craving for its unhealthy version. YES! <br />
<br />
Oh, and I probably shouldn't forget my carrots either. Crudites are always a good accompaniment.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-41530018776529637622010-12-06T13:55:00.000-08:002010-12-06T14:55:52.998-08:00Cranio-Sacral MassageI've never had one of these before. I had one on Saturday from Shaw at Cavallo Point Spa.<br /><br />BEST. THING. EVER.<br /><br />It's not technically a "massage" so much as it is a manipulation of pressure points to free up tension and areas of stuck energy and get that energy flowing again. That's my personal interpretation of it. There may be a better, technical one out there. Google it. Or simply just try one for yourself.<br /><br />To some people who are not as open to more esoteric forms of healing, this may seem like some of that mumbo jumbo hippy dippy new agey stuff with no basis in science and therefore . . . fake or a sham, a way to rip you off and take your hard earned money. To those people I say, look, I'm a big fan of science. BIG. I need facts and evidence to prove things to me. But, I've also learned that personal experience is pretty damn conclusive. I don't think science disputes the fact that we are all, at our fundamental levels, made of energy. Yet, most of us never really do anything to ensure that our energy is flowing freely.<br /><br />For months now I've had a difficult to explain tension in my neck area, just at the base of my skull. I know I hold all my muscular tension there as many people do, but this isn't the tension I am describing. This is in addition to the muscular tension, because even when my muscles were in a completely relaxed state, I could feel this internal gripping tension even more clearly. It's difficult to explain other than a gripping feeling in the base of my skull as if my body was desperately trying to hold onto something I didn't want to lose. (Uh, you know, like control over every minor aspect of my life, including the ones you can't control.) I named it chaos. An anxious feeling that things in my life and around me are careening scarily out of control.<br /><br />I've been working this past month with a Reiki practitioner on balancing my chakras and learning to let go of the need to control every little thing in my life. (We all know that in reality you cannot do this, but it doesn't stop me from stressing out about it nonetheless.) I cannot control what others do, only my reaction to their actions. This is working; but that gripping tension remained. So, when it came time for our office holiday spa trip, I opted for the cranio-sacral massage hoping that it would focus on the tension in the base of my head. It did. And then some.<br /><br />During the session, as he worked on different pressure points, I could feel all the energy centers in my body start to open up and really feel the flow of energy. The best way I can describe it is by saying it's a rush. You can feel a pulsing, sometimes tingling feeling throughout your body and limbs. Almost like feeling your blood pulsing through you and the beating of your heart. It's a wonderful feeling. You feel completely relaxed and yet completely invogorated all at the same time. By the time I left, I could move my neck in directions that I didn't think were possible to move in any longer. Without pain or tension. Not only did my head feel open, but so did all of my other joints and muscles. I followed that with 15 minutes floating in the warm meditation pool. Bliss.<br /><br />Two days later, and I still feel very much open and energized. I highly recommend this treatment for everyone during this stressful, busy time of year. For me, this is the busiest December I've ever had in my life. But, I'm handling it with a calmness that I've never experienced before. It'll all work out, or it won't. Either way, I can only do what I can do and I can only control what I do or how I respond. My energy is flowing and I'm feeling less chaotic amongst all the chaos that is my life right now.<br /><br />All I can say . . . cranio-sacral massage . . . BEST.THING.EVER.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-76949582848405472712010-11-22T14:23:00.001-08:002010-11-22T14:23:19.278-08:00FOOD IS MY FRIENEMY<span xmlns=''><p>When I originally started this post a couple of weeks ago it took a completely odd turn into a host of other food related information and musings about society and food and guilt. Perhaps I'll rework that and post it later. What I really intended was a more personal blog about me (I'm a Leo - deal with it), so I'm starting over.<br /></p><p>I love food. OK, I know, most people do, so this is no big shocker. This isn't the real problem, however. There are lots of people about who love food, eat lots of food and still manage to stay healthy and fit. No, my problem is that food doesn't love me quite as much. It's like a bad relationship that I can't seem to leave. We're frienemies. It'll act like my BFF (comfort food anyone?), but in the end it always turns on me.<br /></p><p>I have Type 2 Diabetes. This is different than Type 1 Diabetes that requires insulin shots on a regular basis, no matter what you eat. On the other hand, Type 2 Diabetes and how well you manage it has a direct connection with food and specifically with what types of food you actually eat. I know, there's a lot of propaganda, er, um, I mean information out there on Diabetes and eating healthy and choosing whole grains and healthy carbohydrates according to the Food Pyramid, blah, blah. You know what my body says to that? It says FUCK YOU Food Pyramid, FUCK YOU Glycemic Index, FUCK YOU American Diabetes Association healthy eating guidelines. My body says "a carb is a carb and I'm going to treat it equally across the board. Sucks to be you." I can't eat a sandwich at lunch and have my blood sugar levels stay within normal ranges no matter how healthy the bread I choose. And don't even get me started on breakfast. Anybody on a low carb diet will tell you what a pain in the ass breakfast can be. I've gotten breakfast down to a protein shake with instant coffee inside. It's breakfast and a latte all in one. Works for me.<br /></p><p>Bread is one of my most favorite things in the whole wide world. If you told me that I would have to spend a week eating only bread and butter I would be fine with that. I'd say "Bring it on!" I might be in a diabetic coma by the end of the week, but just before that I'd be happy. I can't eat bread. Also, those little bitty powdered donuts? Love 'em. There's a lot of candy I can do without, but just about every candy bar on the product list of Annabelle Candy is at the top of my list of things I love. For the most part I can resist the urge to eat the cake and ice cream and pie in the fridge on the rare occasions when we have it, but put an Abba Zabba in front of my face and it'll be gone in no time flat. Crap. Now I want an Abba Zabba. SIGH.<br /></p><p>Obviously, donuts and candy are unhealthy food choices, but your body doesn't care if it's bread, brown rice, whole wheat pasta or a donut. Carbs are carbs, don't let anyone else tell you differently, and once your body converts them to glucose, it's all the same in the end. Some Diabetics can eat a good portion of carbs every day and still be OK. But many can't and unless they learn to say no to these foods completely, their blood sugars will be out of control. Out of control blood sugar can lead to a whole host of problems, including loss of vision, loss of limbs and even death. Well, hell, that's not good. I kinda like living and I'd prefer to keep my sight, as limited as it is, and my arms, legs, hands and feet, thank you very much. You'd think this would be enough motivation, but for some, like myself, apparently it's not.<br /></p><p>Fortunately, my Diabetes has been, for the most part, well controlled, until about a year and a half ago where it went totally off the rails. I now take medication to help keep it under control and at the last test it was back in the low numbers of manageability where it has been for about 12 years. Which is good. Problem is that I feel myself slipping back into those bad patterns once again. Not getting enough exercise, eating late at night, eating too much at meals, eating when I'm not hungry, etc. My worst problem isn't so much what I eat as when I eat it. I can't seem to get my late night snacking under control. Now if I would do my late night snacking while exercising . . . hmmmm. Oh who am I kidding. Who wants to do yoga at 11 p.m.? <br /></p><p>I've been coming across a lot of information lately about binge eating and compulsive overeating. When I think of these terms I envision someone sitting there and just pigging out on mounds of food, hiding food and sneaking it when no one is looking, ordering two meals at the drive-thru and eating both of them. I don't do these things. Must not be my problem, right?<br /></p><p>My deal? I'm an emotional eater. What does that mean? It means I'll eat when I'm happy, sad or depressed, when I'm anxious or stressed out, when I'm angry, and when I'm upset. I also eat when I'm bored, when I'm feeling lazy, when I want to treat myself to something special, when I watch TV, when I watch movies, when I play on the computer, when I drive in the car, etc., etc., etc. You get the idea, I like to graze. The problem with grazing is that you eat a shitload of carbs and calories before you even know it. Because, let's face it, when you get a craving for a snack, most people don't say "Ooooh, you know what sounds really good right now? CARROTS! Oooh, and CELERY!" Yeah, not so much. Let's talk bread, cheese and crackers, muffins and scones, little bitty mini powdered donuts (on the rare occasion I do buy them). They can't be bad for you! They're so small! Ha!<br /></p><p>I am pretty much fine during the day and can control what I eat much better at work. But once I get home, it's a whole different story. I don't know. That's not compulsive, right? Sigh.<br /></p><p>I realize that I can't continue to ignore my need to eat everything in the house once I get home. I need to do something serious about my eating habits. And soon. So this morning I downloaded Mcayla Sarno's audio series on binge eating. <a href='http://mcaylasarno.com/AudioCDSeries.en.html'>http://mcaylasarno.com/AudioCDSeries.en.html</a> I've been thinking about doing it for weeks now, so I guess it's a big step that I finally did. One step at a time, right?<br /></p><p>Now to actually listen to it. That's my next hurdle. And so begins my journey to say fuck you food, I don't want to be your frienemy anymore. Wish me luck. </p></span>Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-24766140561610108802010-05-24T08:29:00.001-07:002010-05-24T08:29:38.324-07:00The Silence of Nature<span xmlns=''><p><br /> </p><p><span style='font-size:13pt'>I went to the park to find the silence of nature. It was a new park I had not been to before and I was excitedly looking forward to my visit. Close enough to town that you can hear cars and planes if you listen. But I don't. I tune them out. I want to enjoy the silence of nature away from the city noises. I picked a quiet secluded garden spot and sat down to read. I tried to read but found myself constantly interrupted and distracted with noise and unable to do so. The sounds which so incessantly interrupted me? The wind blowing through the trees; the birds chirping and singing; squirrels and birds foraging in the brush; the old eucalyptus tree creaking in the wind; leaves rustling and falling to the ground. A noisy hummingbird darts about. Its wings beating loudly like a motor draw my gaze. I look up and find his eyes staring into mine as he pauses and hovers no more than 2 feet from my face looking at me as if he had found something new and interesting to see in the park. These are the sounds I hear. <br /></span></p><p><span style='font-size:13pt'>I went to the park to find the silence of nature. I found its heartbeat instead.</span></p></span>Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-56920847285376606012010-05-19T13:50:00.001-07:002010-05-19T13:50:43.989-07:00I’M IRISH AND I DON’T LIKE COOKED CABBAGE<span xmlns=''><p><span style='font-size:12pt'>There. I've said it. I know. It seems like a contradiction in terms. But I don't. I prefer my cabbage raw, preferably with something on or in it, like Cole Slaw or Lettuce Wraps with cabbage instead of lettuce. Not that I mind lettuce with my Lettuce Wraps, I just think the cabbage holds up better.<br /></span></p><p><span style='font-size:12pt'>This is what I contemplate as I sit here eating my lunch of Chow Mein and Kung Pao Chicken and pick out the bits of cabbage from my Chow Mein. My ancestors would probably chastise me good for that. One, for not liking it and two, for wasting good food.<br /></span></p><p><span style='font-size:12pt'>Due to some recent deaths of family members and ill health of others, I have recently been thinking more about my heritage and how little I actually know about it. I've resumed work on a family tree that I had started many years ago. I've actually spent a decent sum of money on software and genealogical records. I am awaiting receipt of those records so I can trace my family even further back. Hopefully. <br /></span></p><p><span style='font-size:12pt'>It's not that I'm an orphan or anything like that. My family is spread out around the country and for various reasons, I just don't have much contact with most of them. I think I need to try harder to change that. Now if I could just remember that when I'm at home glued to my TiVo and the latest Stargate or NCIS episode, that would be helpful. Also, my family doesn't talk about their past much. Of course, my recent research has turned up a few interesting tidbits of ancient history which are inconsequential in today's day and age, but would have provided much reason for gossip 70 years ago. So, I understand why talking about family history seems to have been silently taught to many generations of Porters. But, maybe I can change that.</span></p></span>Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-89273564786220286532010-01-06T06:41:00.001-08:002010-01-06T06:52:50.536-08:00Since It's Not Anthrax, I'll Have To Go ShoppingWell, I didn't die from Anthrax yesterday, so that's probably a good thing. I do feel horribly like I have a man cold, though. Which I think is worse. Because at least with Anthrax there's an end in sight. With a man cold it could go on for days and days on end.<br /><br />With all the whining, I can barely stand myself. My cats don't even want to cuddle with me. I should stay home today and hide under my covers, but I'm a glutton for punishment, so it'll be off to work for me.<br /><br />I could probably turn it back into a regular cold if I did something very womanly. Like shopping. That's probably what I need to do. Shopping. Or find someone in my family to nag in a shrill voice. Oh, wait, but my throat is all scratchy and if I try to be shrill I'll just start coughing and then I'll fall right back into the man cold hell hole. No, that won't do. If I'm not going to spend the day cuddled under a warm blanket with hot peppermint tea, watching Johnny Depp and Vin Diesel movies, then it'll have to be shopping.<br /><br />Well, you know what that means, then. If I'm going shopping, I must leave here and go find some cute shoes to wear. I mean, really. It's a requirement.<br /><br />Wish me luck.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-73949077870483766942010-01-05T09:06:00.001-08:002010-01-05T12:52:16.217-08:00It's Problemly Anthrax...And I Don't Mean The BandFrom my Twitter stream this morning:<br /><br />(Yes, it's backwards, ya'll, that's how Twitter works! I don't know why I say, ya'll, I'm not even from Texas, but I do. Deal with it.)<br /><br /><blockquote>Cheryl3660: And now I'm on an FBI watch list because I said Anthrax on the internet 3 times and I wasn't even talking about music.<br /><br />Cheryl3660: From Anthrax poisoning, because this couldn't possibly be a cold.<br /><br />Cheryl3660: I'm sorry did I say "pay homage" out loud? I meant<br />"visit." You should all visit me before I die.<br /><br />Cheryl 3660: Sore throat and a cough. Must be Anthrax<br />poisoning. You all should come pay homage to me on my deathbed.<br /></blockquote><br />And for those of you who are about to comment to me that "problemly" is not really a word . . . it is now: <a href="http://thebloggess.com/?p=4667">http://thebloggess.com/?p=4667</a> My spellcheck hasn't yet learned that problemly is a word either, so don't feel bad because you didn't know.<br /><br /><br />If no one finds this amusing other than me, I blame the cold. I mean Anthrax poisoning. SEE! It's affecting my ability to think clearly already!Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-33552641827224724582009-08-14T21:21:00.000-07:002009-08-15T00:38:35.468-07:00Awesomely Good Stuffed ShellsSo we had stuffed shells for dinner tonite (or technically last night as it is the wee hours of the morning now) and they were so amazingly good, I thought I would share the recipe.<br /><br /><em><strong>Ingredients</strong></em><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br />1 box Jumbo Shells (we used Barilla and this recipe is modified from the one on their box)<br />1 lb ground turkey<br />1T olive oil<br />1/2 medium onion - diced<br />2 cloves minced garlic<br />1 tsp No Salt Seasoning or Italian Seasoning (or any particular seasoning blend you prefer)<br />Salt and Pepper to taste<br />1 small can mushrooms and liquid (or fresh ones if you have them on hand)<br />1 egg<br />8 0z. of Ricotta cheese<br />8 0z shredded <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Parmesan</span> cheese<br />1/4 C shredded Mozzarella cheese<br />1 large jar or can of pasta sauce of your preference (I use a 4 cheese spaghetti sauce)<br /><br />Preheat oven to 350<br /><br />Cook Jumbo Shells according to package directions. When they are done immerse them in cold water so they are cool and easy to work with.<br /><br />Saute onion and garlic on medium high heat until onion is translucent. Add ground turkey and saute until almost completely brown. Add mushrooms and seasonings and saute until meat is done. Remove from heat and allow meat to cool. Do not drain any liquids from the pan.<br /><br />Mix together egg, Ricotta and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Parmesan</span> cheeses. Add this to cooled meat mixture.<br /><br />You can either use two casserole dishes and place the stuffed shells in a single layer in each (this is what I did), or you can use one 13x9 casserole dish and pile the stuffed shells on top of each other. Either way, spread just enough sauce to cover the bottom of the dish.<br /><br />Spoon meat/cheese mixture into shells until they are full but not overflowing. You should have just enough meat/cheese mixture to fill the entire box of shells. <br /><br />Pour remaining sauce evenly over the stuffed shells. <br /><br />Bake uncovered for 30 minutes. <br /><br />Sprinkle the Mozzarella onto the top of the shells and put back in the over for 3-5 minutes or until cheese is just melted.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-86442466331246013262009-08-14T20:37:00.000-07:002009-08-14T21:00:58.968-07:00Cheat Sheet for the Guys (i.e., How To And How NOT To Get A Woman To Throw You A Bone)Alright guys. Every now and then, one of us women will have a little sympathy on your plight of misunderstanding and throw you a bone. NO! Not THAT kind of a bone! It's a figure of speech. It means 'pay attention and you might learn some useful shit here.' ;-)<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">1. Woman Speak</span></em></strong></div><br />Here is a guide to what a woman really means when she says things like "Fine" and "Nothing." <br /><br />Keywords and their meanings:<br /><br /><strong>"Fine":</strong> This word is used at the end of any argument that the woman feels she is right about but needs to shut you up. NEVER use fine to describe how a woman looks. This will cause you to have one of those arguments.<br /><br /><strong>"Five minutes":</strong> This is half an hour. It is equivalent to the five minutes that your football game is going to last before you take out the trash, so it's an even trade.<br /><br /><strong>"Nothing":</strong> This means something and you should be on your toes. "Nothing"is usually used to describe the feeling a woman has of wanting to turn you inside out, upside down, and backwards. "Nothing"usually signifies an argument that will last "Five Minutes" and end with the word "Fine."<br /><br /><strong>"Go Ahead" (raised eyebrows):</strong> This is a dare. One that will result in a woman getting upset over "Nothing" and will end with the word "Fine."<br /><br /><strong>"Go Ahead" (normal eyebrows):</strong> This means "I give up" or "do what you want because I don't care." You will get a raised eyebrow "Go ahead" in just a few minutes, followed by "Nothing" and "Fine" and she will talk to you in about "Five Minutes" when she cools off.<br /><br /><strong>Loud Sigh:</strong> This is not actually a word, but is still often a verbal statement very misunderstood by men. A "Loud Sigh" means she thinks you are an idiot at that moment and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you over "Nothing."<br /><br /><strong>Soft Sigh:</strong> Again, not a word, but a verbal statement. "Soft Sighs" are one of the few things that some men actually understand. She is content. Your best bet is to not move or breathe and she will stay content.<br /><br /><strong>"Oh":</strong> This word followed by any statement is trouble. Example; "Oh, let me get that". Or, "Oh, I talked to him about what you were doing last night." If she says "Oh" before a statement, RUN, do not walk, to the nearest exit. She will tell you that she is "Fine" when she is done tossing your clothes out the window, but do not expect her to talk to you for at least 2 days. "Oh" as the lead to a sentence usually signifies that you are caught in a lie. Do not try to lie more to get out of it, or you will get raised eyebrows "Go ahead" followed by acts so unspeakable that we can't bring ourselves to write about them.<br /><br /><strong>"That's Okay":</strong> This is one of the most dangerous statements that a woman can say to a man. "That's Okay" means that she wants to think long and hard before paying you retributions for what ever it is that you have done. "That's Okay" is often used with the word "Fine" and used in conjunction with a raised eyebrow "Go ahead." At some point in the near future when she has plotted and planned, you are going to be in some mighty big trouble.<br /><br /><strong>"Please Do":</strong> This is not a statement, it is an offer. A woman is giving you the chance to come up with whatever excuse or reason you have for doing whatever it is that you have done. You have a fair chance to tell the truth, so be careful and you shouldn't get a "That's Okay."<br /><br /><strong>"Thanks":</strong> A woman is thanking you. Do not faint; just say you're welcome.<br /><br /><strong>"Thanks a lot":</strong> This is much different from "Thanks." A woman will say,"Thanks a lot" when she is really ticked off at you. It signifies that you have hurt her in some callous way, and will be followed by the "Loud Sigh." Be careful not to ask what is wrong after the "Loud Sigh," as she will only tell you "Nothing."<br /><br />I hope this clears up any misunderstandings . . .<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><em>2. The Hormone Guide</em></span></strong></div><br />Every woman knows that there are certain days in the month when all a man has to do is open his mouth and he takes his life into his own hands! This is a handy guide that should be as common as a driver's license in the wallet of every husband, boyfriend, co-worker or significant other! Please memorize this. If you are caught using a cheat sheet, you will hear a "Loud Sigh" followed by "Thanks a lot" and "That's Okay."<br /><br /><em><strong>About dinner:</strong></em><br /> DANGEROUS: What's for dinner?<br /> SAFER: Can I help you with dinner?<br /> SAFEST: Where would you like to go for dinner?<br /> ULTRA SAFE: Here, have some wine.<br /><br /><em><strong>About clothes:</strong></em><br /> DANGEROUS: Are you wearing THAT?<br /> SAFER: Wow, you sure look good in brown!<br /> SAFEST: WOW! Look at you!<br /> ULTRA SAFE: Here, have some wine<br /><br /><strong><em>About money:</em></strong><br /> DANGEROUS: What are you so worked up about?<br /> SAFER: Could we be overreacting?<br /> SAFEST: Here's my paycheck.<br /> ULTRA SAFE: Here, have some wine.<br /><br /><strong><em>About food — dieting:</em></strong><br /> DANGEROUS: Should you be eating that?<br /> SAFER: You know, there are a lot of apples left.<br /> SAFEST: Can I get you a piece of chocolate with that?<br /> ULTRA SAFE: Here, have some wine.<br /><br /><em><strong>About her day:</strong></em><br /> DANGEROUS: What did you DO all day?<br /> SAFER: I hope you didn't over-do it today.<br /> SAFEST: I've always loved you in that robe!<br /> ULTRA SAFE: Here, have some wine.<br /><br /><br />Take these guidelines to heart, follow them carefully, and she may just throw you a bone. YES, THAT kind. ;-)Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-7739077081703514582009-08-09T00:21:00.000-07:002009-08-09T03:37:18.292-07:00Acknowledge and Move OnSince my last post I've continued to do a lot of thinking about forgiveness. I thought I was making significant progress towards forgiving, but then I started thinking that maybe I wasn't because, well, I was still thinking about it wasn't I? Then, I read a blog post that had me look at this from a different perspective: (<a href="http://barkingunicorn.wordpress.com/2009/08/03/amber-olson-good-to-know/">http://barkingunicorn.wordpress.com/2009/08/03/amber-olson-good-to-know/</a>)<br /><br />So, instead of looking to forgive a past wrong, which requires you to first blame, you acknowledge the event and then release it. Ohhhh, man! Can it really be that simple? Yes, actually, it can. <br /><br />I don't like playing the 'blame game.' It annoys me to no end and I find it very petty and immature. At the same time, I find that I just as easily get caught up in the inclination to want someone to blame. It's so ingrained into our psyche! Until I read the above mentioned blog, I had completely forgotten one of my favorite sayings: 'Acknowledge and move on!' I had acknowledged, but I had not moved on. I was well into the blame game; being angry and blaming each and every person who had any potential for responsibility in the matter, myself included.<br /><br />As adults we have a tendency to dwell on things. We continually mull them over and cling to them as if our lives depend on it. Guess what? Our lives DON'T depend on it. In fact, I think we often hold ourselves back when we dwell and cling to past hurts and injustices -- the death of a loved one, hurtful things said or done by others toward us, injustice in the world, criminals who go unpushined, etc. Even so, releasing these past hurts is easier said than done.<br /><br />So, I've been contemplating my own inability to forgive for over a month now. The problem I have discovered about forgiveness goes sort of like this:<br /><br />First, you try to forgive, but then anger flares up and petulantly says "Fuck That! Why do I have to forgive? Why do I need to be the bigger person? They don't deserve my forgiveness. How do you forgive someone who has done the unforgivable, anyway?" (Setting aside for another day the deeper philosophy of everyone deserving forgiveness and what that means when you consider that we are all one.)<br /><br />So, you take the next step - if I feel the person is not worthy of being forgiven, then my problem is no longer about forgiving someone else. OK, so then, what, it must be about forgiving myself? Because that's where forgiveness starts, right? Everything starts with yourself. OK, fine, I'm down with that - if I'm playing the blame game, then I have blamed myself to some degree. So, I'll start there. OK, um, I'll forgive myself. *Thinking deeply on how to do that.* But, again, here comes anger: "What the -? FUCK THAT! I didn't do anything wrong. Forgive myself for WHAT?! This isn't my fault!" Hmmm, back to the blame game, aren't we? If I am not to blame? Then why do I feel somehow responsible? Clearly, this isn't working.<br /><br />Well, shit then. If forgiveness isn't the way and blame doesn't help, then what can be done to resolve the situation? How do we let it go? Anger certainly isn't helping. It only keeps the pain and hurt around like some sort of badge of self-righteousness. What's left to end the suffering?<br /><br />Release. What else can there be? Release it. Let it go. It does not serve you well to hold on to it.<br /><br />It's so amazing in it's simplicity: <br /><br /> Release. <br /><br /> Acknowledge and move on.<br /><br />What happened has happened. It cannot be undone. It cannot be fixed. Why dwell? It is what it is. It cannot be changed. But it can be released. And you can change your relationship to it. So that's what I've decided to do. I can't seem to find a way to "forgive," so I'm just gonna bypass that altogether, release it and let it go. I've acknowledged, now is my time to move on.<br /><br />As I am writing this, @Eckhart_Tolle says via Twitter: "Wherever you are, be there totally. If you find your here and now intolerable and it makes you unhappy, you have three options: remove yourself from the situation, change it, or accept it totally."<br /><br />So there it is, yeah? I can't change it. I won't accept it. So I remove myself from the situation the only way I can: by releasing it. I'm ready to let it go. I'm glad to have finally found the way to do so.<br /><br />To all those who have Tweeted, blogged or commented somewhere in cyberspace in such a way as to help me finally find peace with this, I send you much love and heartfelt thanks. By being you and expressing yourself in a way that can be found and heard by others is a wonderful gift. I hope that I, too, can do the same for others.<br /><br />Cheryl<br /><br /><br />Oh, and anger wants it to be known that it doesn't agree with "forgiveness" or "releasing" and it stands by it's earlier assessment of "Fuck That!" But what can you do? That's how anger is and that's how anger will always be . . . acknowledge and move on.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-38954505897347544882009-02-18T10:05:00.001-08:002009-02-18T10:16:48.290-08:00Inspirational Thought of the DayThe following inspiration came to me via Twitter and I loved it so much I had to share. You can check out Ms. Fraser's website here: <a href="http://www.tomikosgoddessgathering.com/">http://www.tomikosgoddessgathering.com/</a><br /><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">"Release limiting words & thoughts. They stifle your spirit. Breathe in the beauty of unlimited possibilities. You were created to excel." </span><span style="font-size:180%;">-- Tomiko Fraser</span></div>Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-19923470691231949382009-02-03T20:35:00.000-08:002009-02-13T16:09:20.311-08:00Thump Kthud Bump Bump(aka Scaring Your Kid Half to Death is Fun)<br /><br />It was a typical night in a typical house with a typical family. Dad was in his workshed building a nice endtable, mom was on the couch knitting him a winter sweater and the daughter was sitting at the desk meticulously doing her homework. (OK, this is America, who are we kidding? They were all sitting on their fat asses watching tv - Mom and dad in the frontroom and the kid in the bedroom.) Anyway . . .<br /><br /><br />Mom and dad are discussing amongst themselves what the child might possibly be doing as she seemed to be remarkably silent when a muffled sound from the deepest darkest recesses of the house meandered it's way down the hall . . . thump kthud bump bump, thump kthud bump bump. A pause and a glance passes between them. Thump kthud bump bump, thump kthud bump bump resounds again faintly from the hall. What the hell is that noise? Whatever it is, it means said child is probably going to be in trouble. Silently the parents sneak down the hall to the bedroom door where they listen carefuly -- THUMP KTHUD BUMP BUMP, THUMP KTHUD BUMP-- . . . a breathless silence . . has the child heard them? Perhaps the parents were not so silent as they thought . . .<br /><br /><br />THUMP KTHUD BUMP BUMP, THUMP KTHUD BUMP BUMP the now familiar sound of a ball bouncing in the house comes again from behind the bedroom door. Ever so slowly, ever so silently the door handle is turned . . . a last conspiratory glance amongst the parents . . . and . . .<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;">AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!</span> </span><br /><br /><br />The parents fling open the door and bolt into the room screaming loudly and waiving their arms at the child. It's a shame, really, that a camera wasn't rolling because words could never do justice to what happened next. The guilty child jumped up and back a step, startled, eyes wide, hands up in fright, mouth open . . . but, alas, no sound came from her lips . . . the seconds ticked away at an alarmingly slow speed . . . 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . only the eyes registered the terror which the brain could not process quickly enough. Finally, though, it came . . . a terrified scream at least 5 seconds after the brain recognized it was not some insane murderer, just two insane parents who were now on the floor in convulsions. A scolding scream of "MOMMIE!" could scarce be heard over the laughter.<br /><br /><br />Yes, it was a beautiful sight. Surprisingly, she did not pee her pants. She has, however, not bounced the ball in the house ever since. ;-)<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302437549481285250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoL77ADQKjyz0YAirGNL7q6z6pPVOHII0k4gZCBv1TZC_FwqkzRhvP_T3fgHblsV8ID93ImV3lQ3jFSFDvNALrYwnkZ9nXLWU0bOrIE7hRsM1ISOyrEuzJPtfrepHuwFh_8OxdQpz29Ww/s320/Courtney+Face.jpg" border="0" />Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-52508167741606978472009-02-02T16:36:00.001-08:002009-02-11T23:00:34.634-08:002009 Is Kicking My Ass!Ok, so 2009 has been kicking my ass big time. I'm not afraid to say it. Not only is it kicking my ass, I am having a hard time catching up with it, too. Slow down the train, I'm still tying my shoes! Damn! LOL!<br /><br />On New Years' Eve, my mother-in-law was sent to the hospital by her doctor because she had had a heart attack (Yes, we filled that waiting room with 13 family members!). Rounding out the next three weeks: my brother-in-law went to the hospital for a blood clot/heart attack (drs. have no idea which came first and caused the other); a good friend of ours was in an auto accident which basically severed all of his fingers on one hand; we figured out the amount of taxes we're definitely going to have to pay this year - a buttload of them is all I'll tell you; I've been told by my mechanic (aka my big brother - talk about cheap labor - and yes he's a real mechanic with his own business) to sell my car and get a new one NOW while I still can - which means, of course, a new car payment - oh yay; my husband's job has laid off a lot of people and is having mandatory 1 day a week layoffs for most of the remaining employees; my job has been out of control, crazy, busy; I can't seem to get on top of any of my household projects/chores; and I've manage to not read any books at all this year when I normally am reading several at the same time. In fact, I'm so behind it's taken me over a month to fninish writing this blog. I know, it's insane!<br /><br /><br />On a good note, all of the aforementioned ill people are doing very well (including our friend with the severed fingers who has had numerous surgeries, with more to come, and who should regain full use of his hand when completely healed), my job is starting to slow down a bit (well, sorta), we have some money set aside for taxes, we should be able to manage a car payment even with the layoffs (although I'll probably have to cut back a bit on my CD addiction - I know that's just crazy talk you say), we're planning a trip to Disneyworld with my mother-in-law for later this year (which I found out today is going to cost about $1,000 less than we anticipated, but still, I don't even want to think about how many CD's and LIVE paraphanelia that'll cost me - lol), and, oh yeah, I've managed to start a daily meditation practice thanks to some well timed encouragement and the Holosync program (<a href="http://www.centerpointe.com/">http://www.centerpointe.com/</a>). OK, so I'm still behind on my household projects and reading, but I think that'll work itself out in time. I hope. LOL! Hmmmm, I wonder how many CD's a month it'll cost me for a maid?<br /><br />During one of the many trips to the ER last month, a family member commented that her kids no longer believe in God because they cannot believe in a God who is supposed to love and care for us but allows people to die senselessly. It occurred to me that this line of thinking puts a lot of unrealistic expectations on God. And even though it is a common thought process, it doesn't seem quite fair if you ask me.<br /><br /><br />Now I'll stop here and say that this isn't meant to be commentary in any manner on religious beliefs and/or spiritual philosophies of any sort and I'm not criticizing anyone's belief system or religious deity. I'm not anti-God or trying to push any personal agenda. I further preface all of this by saying I am using the term "God" in the most commonly understood and most generic sense of the title that I possibly can.<br /><br /><br />So I began to wonder, who decided that it's God's job to be responsible for EVERYTHING that happens to us as a human race? And if I was God, I'd be kinda pissed off that I was given that job. Now, granted, he gets a lot of credit for some amazing shit that people manage to accomplish with a lot of hard work (think of any awards show you've ever seen). Still, I don't think I would want that job. Humans are a fickle bunch and we would much rather blame someone everytime something goes wrong than accept that perhaps we might have been responsible or even, *GASP*, that it was just pretty much dumb luck or a case of shit happens. And I mean "dumb luck," and "shit happens" in the broadest sense - that could be because of any of a myriad of natural reasons which could be explained better by a Buddhist monk or a quantum physicist than myself, or because we made a wrong turn two years ago and set in motion a series of events which eventually led to our current predicament, or any other number of complex or simple explanations you can come up with. All of which, I might add, do not involve a conscious decision by God to let something bad happen to you or one of your loved ones or be the actual cause of that bad thing, including death.<br /><br /><br />That's what it boils down to, really, isn't it? The blaming of God everytime something goes wrong. "Why did God LET this happen?" or "Why did God DO this to me?" or "What did I do to deserve this PUNISHMENT?" All questions and thought patterns which place the responsibility for what happened squarely as a deliberate act by God. I don't think we should give anyone that sort of responsibility, no matter how omnipotent they may be. Setting aside, of course, how illogical it is to say that God is loving, just, caring and almighty but accusing him at every bad turn of maliciousness and, well, murder. Ah, but perhaps I stray too close to the line of questioning personal beliefs with that comment and I apologize. I just tend to like things in neat logical boxes. I'm a little OCD that way.<br /><br /><br />So, the next time you or someone else blames God for somethng that has happened, stop for a moment and ask yourself: "Do I reallly think God did this INTENTIONALLY?" After you answer that question, then reconsider how you feel about the situation. I think you may see things in a different light. Perhaps, even, from God's perspective.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-12381336447778828772009-01-22T10:29:00.000-08:002009-01-22T12:26:53.972-08:00One of the most underrated songs EVERRadiant Sea by LIVE is one of the most underrated songs ever. Even by me and I LOVE the song. Why I don't listen to this song every day, I haven't figured out. The lyrics, the music, the arrangement . . . BRILLIANT. (I know, I think all LIVE songs are brilliant, but I swear, no bias on this one - it really is brilliant.)<br /><br />You can purchase and download the song here: <a href="https://www.missingink.net/mishop/digitaldownloads.asp">https://www.missingink.net/mishop/digitaldownloads.asp</a><br /><br />I highly suggest buying it and listening to it. It's best when you have an uninterrupted moment to listen with your eyes closed and your headphones on. I actually recommend listening to all of LIVE's songs this way at some point. This doesn't, however, replace listening to them with the stereo turned up rather loudly while doing housework or a jigsaw puzzle or in the car or at a concert. I also highly recommend doing all those things (repeatedly). My daughter and I have actually had some pretty interesting discussions while listening to LIVE and working jigsaw puzzles. Quality time with your kid and Ed's lyrics are always great conversation starters. ;-) Can be a little difficult when the song playing is Lakini's Juice or Deep Enough, but I'd rather she ask and hear it from me than someone else. But I digress, I was talking about Radiant Sea.<br /><br />2009 has been pretty tough for me, and yesterday announced itself as a challenging day from the moment I awoke (yes, I overslept). On the way to work Radiant Sea was playing and I thought how wonderful it would be to go home, curl up in my comfy robe and slippers on my big comfy recliner, put in my headphones and just listen to Radiant Sea all day and avoid the challenges of the day. Well, needless to say I didn't do that (SIGH!), but it would've been so nice. Fortunately, I have the ability to listen to music at work and it's saved my sanity more than once in this crazy, stressful job.<br /><br />So, if you're having a particularly challenging moment or day or week or year, take my advice and take some time to stop and - well, you don't have to smell the roses, just close your eyes, open your mind, and listen to Radiant Sea by LIVE. When you open your eyes again, things will somehow seem so much better! I know it works for me.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-80964742108993106132008-12-30T21:11:00.000-08:002008-12-31T00:34:40.950-08:00Intro but no spection?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hCCCIqQgD-pH2vYt5mAuyKuQvDh7ZefK-3K2tA7IWP6ufhfz53X42FOCKIw8UWQOHNIwdmGmxGsCswijdYtl5sPcVkGaNojbo-8Cr2R6sJ0iClegHhvFV-faEDRJKGl0o6b_2FkJXhE/s1600-h/1008061558.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285823251330407890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hCCCIqQgD-pH2vYt5mAuyKuQvDh7ZefK-3K2tA7IWP6ufhfz53X42FOCKIw8UWQOHNIwdmGmxGsCswijdYtl5sPcVkGaNojbo-8Cr2R6sJ0iClegHhvFV-faEDRJKGl0o6b_2FkJXhE/s320/1008061558.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>So I started this blog with the full intention of posting regularly, but that hasn't happened. During a conversation, a co-worker made the observation that I often had deep and profound things to say. Go figure. Little ol' me. So I figured I might as well join the rest of the world and start blogging. Coincidental to the starting of this blog, however, all deep and profound thoughts seemed to completely disappear from my head. Ironic you might think, but that sort of thing happens to me all the time. </div><div> </div><div>I still don't feel like I have anything immensely profound to say, but figured I would just start talking and maybe something interesting would reveal itself. I guess with the new year coming and it generally being the time for resolutions and changes in one's life, that it would be a good time to take stock of where I am , where I am going and where I want to be. What I do know is that I really want things in my life to slow down enough for me to get organized and get a handle on things. Work has been so insanely busy that the stress and chaos of it just follows me home. I find that I am disorganized and just ineffective in my use of time. So I guess that's one New Year's Resolution for me.</div><div> </div><div>New Year's Resolution 2 would be to focus more on my meditations and spiritual studies. I read a blog recently which talked about using daily visualizations, affirmations, and meditations to manifest happiness in your life, among other things. There wasn't any new insights in this blog that I haven't already heard or read before. But for whatever reason, this was the right time for me to really hear it and take it to heart. Ever since then I have been attempting to incorporate positive thinking and positive affirmations in my life every day. With amazing results I must say. I have been happier and less stressed these past three weeks than I have been all year. Armed with this new "ability," I am motivated to continue and increase my efforts at inner peace and stress reduction in my life. </div>Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-10890111187274086702008-12-23T15:38:00.001-08:002008-12-23T15:48:58.093-08:00I BelieveThe following was forwarded to me via email. I loved it so much I thought I would share.<br /><br />Credo<br /><br />I believe in the cave paintings at Lascaux, the beauty of the clavicle, the journey of the salmon.<br /><br />I believe in all the Gods - I just don't like some of them.<br /><br />I believe the war is always against the imagination, is recurring, repetitive, and relentless.<br /><br />I believe in fairies, elves, angels and Boddhisatvas, Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.<br /><br />I believe Raven invented the Earth and so did Coyote. In archeology lie the clues. The threshold is numinous and the way in is the way out.<br /><br />I believe in the alphabets, all of them, and the stories seeping from between their letters.<br /><br />I believe in dance as prayer, that the heartbeat invented rhythm and chant -- or is it the other way around?<br /><br />I believe in the wisdom of the body.<br /><br />I believe that art saves lives and love makes it worth living them. And that could be the other way around, too. <br /><br />- Judith RocheJust me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-8330642556264834992008-12-19T11:43:00.000-08:002008-12-19T11:48:09.694-08:00Inspirational Song of the DayI don’t know, yesterday was a pretty damn good day. But this song came up on my iTunes this morning and struck me as just a great inspirational tune for the day. I hope it moves others the way it moved me.<br /><br />"Better Day"<br />Saving Jane<br /><a href="http://www.savingjane.com/">http://www.savingjane.com/</a><br /><br />I have been asleep so long now<br />All locked up without a key<br />I have tapped my feet impatient<br />For a change to come to me<br />I've been hanging my hair<br />Outside this tower<br />Waiting for a savior<br />When all along I had the power to save myself<br />And I can tell<br /><br />It's gonna be a better day<br />I think I'm gonna be okay<br />Got a little air to breathe<br />It's alright with me<br />I got a little light to shine<br />You can't take what's mine<br />I've been down so low<br />Nowhere but up to go<br />So go ahead, bring on the rain<br />It's gonna be a better day<br /><br />Every princess has a castle<br />Some kind of honor to defend<br />I would rather fight my battles<br />Than hide behind a thousand men<br />I've been hanging my hair<br />Outside of this tower<br />Waiting for a savior<br />When all along I had the power to save myself<br />And I can tell<br /><br />It's gonna be a better day<br />I think I'm gonna be okay<br />Got a little air to breathe<br />It's alright with me<br />I got a little light to shine<br />You can't take what's mine<br />I've been down so low<br />Nowhere but up to go<br />So go ahead, bring on the rain<br />It's gonna be a better day<br /><br />I gotta make my own luck<br />I gotta find my own way<br />I gotta see that there is more to life than just existing<br />I wanna be living<br /><br />It's gonna be a better day<br />I think I'm gonna be okay<br />Got a little air to breathe<br />It's alright with me<br />I got a little light to shine<br />You can't take what's mine<br />I've been down so low<br />Nowhere but up to go<br />So go ahead, bring on the rain<br />It's gonna be a better dayJust me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4485590957287606127.post-23734352233962076372008-10-06T23:36:00.000-07:002008-10-06T23:36:00.946-07:00Soulmates . . . or something like it<em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;">(Introductory Note: I decided to start this blog as a place for my random thoughts, musings and 'profound' moments. Perhaps people will stumble across this blog and have a good laugh at something random I say. Perhaps others will take solace in finding someone that agrees with their line of thinking. Perhaps no one will ever read this but me. And that's all fine with me. Sometimes I think of things and just feel the need to get them written down. So this is what I intend to do with this first post and future posts.)</span></em><br /><br /><br />I have a friend who is my soulmate. Not in a lesbian, sexual sort of way. Although, I must admit that she cannot refuse, when the timing is just right, to shock someone with a lesbian innuendo comment or two. The concurrent look of certainty and uncertainty together on the other person’s face is, to be honest, almost more than I can bear without breaking into uncontrolled hysterical laughter. You know they desperately want to assume you ARE lesbian, but they aren’t 100% sure and they realize it just wouldn’t be PC to outright ask you. So they pause just a moment and desperately hope you will clarify the situation. We don’t. She loves to mess with people in this way and she’s very good at it. I love to laugh when she does so. She’s very perceptive of others and always manages to say the thing that everyone is thinking and no one wants to say. And she manages it with such straightforwardness and humor that it is truly impressive. There are many things in life that make me happy, but only a precious few that truly make my soul happy. This friend is one of the latter.<br /><br />Having someone in my life who I know is my soulmate in what I think is a non-traditional sense made me ponder the whole concept of ‘soulmates.’ I believe soulmates are not what we tend to think they are. My understanding of the traditional concept of a soulmate is that there is a person in everyone’s life who is their one true soulmate, partner and lover. I could be wrong on this general understanding, but it’s late and I’m not inclined to do the research tonite (although this decision goes against my very nature and I'm fighting the urge to do a Google search and spend another hour researching it). However, I am not convinced that we each only get one soulmate and that they are necessarily our lovers or partners. No, I think there maybe there are degrees or levels of soulmates and even different types of soulmates for every person. This is my personal experience, otherwise I could not explain those numerous people in my life with whom I feel this connection. The friend I mention above is one of them. She has others in her life that are also soulmates, as do I. It’s my personal experience that leads me to my understanding of the term ‘soulmates.’ I expect that there are many who don’t believe in soulmates, many who will agree with my belief of soulmates, and many whose experiences will lead them to a completely different belief of soulmates. <br /><br />The beauty of it is that we are all right.Just me, thinking again.http://www.blogger.com/profile/12362992208292558655noreply@blogger.com0