As you may well remember, my Nike+ sensor died an unexpected death last week. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye, and although I've been thinking of the wonderful times we've had together, I am trying to do my best to pick up the pieces and move on. On Friday morning, I decided to go on a completely "untethered" run. And by that, I mean, I left my iPod at home. No tunes, just the sounds of the neighborhood, my feet hitting the pavement, and my not-so-awful breathing. I pushed myself farther than I had gone in a long time, at least 3.5 miles total when all was said and done. Now granted, I would like something that tells me how far I've gone. I like the data. I'll admit it. And if I was better at running the same general pace, which I probably am, I could tell you generally how far I've gone if I just looked at a clock.
I ran up the bike path, starting up at the beginning of it off of Cedar St, and then headed through Davis, up across Mass Ave and went almost all the way to Alewife, then turned around and came back. I had to talk myself into going that far. I wanted to turn around at Mass Ave, but there was no reason to stop. I had no time constraints. I went out around 945 am, didn't have any pressing plans until 330 in the afternoon. I'm glad that I pushed myself. I need to stop making excuses. I am in WAY better shape now that I ever have been. Going a few more blocks isn't going to kill me. I am NOT going to keel over from exhaustion. I could probably keep going for quite a while, definitely need a few walking breaks in there, but probably wouldn't fare too badly.
The sounds of my shoes hitting the pavement/gravel/grass/wherever I chose to run was a soothing sound. My breathing, mostly even, and not at all distressed felt good, sounded good. I live in a busy area, so the cars around certainly make noise, but the bike path is a little bit of a retreat from the world. At certain times, you feel like you're almost not in a big city. I felt proud for doing it. Working out without music isn't as awful as it seems to be. I am even considering getting the Nike+ wristband instead of a new sensor. That way, I can track my runs but without the need of the iPod. Don't get me wrong, I love my iPod and my tunes, but I've fallen into quite a pattern. I need to break out of my rut. And perhaps, quiet workouts are the answer.
I went to the gym today, as it's pretty steamy out there. I've had quite the problem getting my ass on a treadmill. I get bored very quickly, but luckily, my certified trainer friend, EO'B suggested I do an interval workout going between 2 machines, choosing between bike, elliptical and treadmill. 30 minutes total, split between the 2 machines...starting with 5 minutes each, then 4, then 3, 2, and 1. It was great. i wasn't bored. I didn't take my iPod out. I watched a bit of Sportscenter while on the elliptical, but the bike had a broken TV. But I found I was motivated to keep moving, was concentrating on my breathing, my form, whatever. NOT concentrating on the timer for reasons other than to say "go faster!". It was quite liberating. Change is good.
I'm also looking into taking some dance classes over at the Dance Complex in Central Square. I took a tap class there when I was still at Longy, and it was fun, just not much of a workout. I don't know if I can justify the $45 a week to take all 4 of the classes I'm interested in. I'm going to take a look at a Stretch class, a Jazz class, a Ballet class and a Cardio Kickboxing class. I think I'm most interested in the Kickboxing. But, I've taken dance previously in my life, so these other classes may be too beginner for me. We'll see. It's been a long damn time, so I might not remember anything anyway. I just think it'll be a great way to get myself moving, and doing something OTHER than running and going to the gym. Plus, it'll get me out of the house and off of the couch. (***Just hooked up the wireless network today, so this is VERY important***) I'm hoping to maybe meet some new people too. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends, and I love you readers, but new perspectives and people are always good. It's hard to meet people when you're older and out of school. No matter what you try, it looks like you're hitting on someone else if you show any interest in getting to know them.
My mind is in a little bit of a better place this week than it was last week. I'm feeling the need to really watch what I'm doing, although still guzzled down 3 iced coffees at work today...granted, all decaf, but still. A little bit too much. I almost bought some chocolate milk at the grocery store today, but knew that I'd drink the entire container of it in one day, I'm sure, so I left it there. THAT I consider a victory. I suppose my mindset from last week was also because I'm feeling bored, in all aspects of my life. Everything is the same. I went away for almost a month, and came back, and it was all...the same. I'm the only one who can change that. I have to be willing to stand up and choose something different. I have to step out of my box, buck the system, refuse to accept status quo. But how do you do that? How do I go about changing my life for the better? Yes, I know, I've already started. But how do I continue? How do I roll this hard work over into the other aspects of my life? I look at everything I want to change and I get very overwhelmed. It's hard when you feel like you have to live up to some high expectations that may have been placed on you, or that you've placed on yourself. Trust me, I never thought that my life would be what it is today. I feel I'm a lot smarter and worthwhile than the job I'm in. I'm more valuable than those people make me feel. I'd be an asset to any company. I just have to make someone realize that...
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Where everybody knows your name...
And no one recognizes your face/body. Hilarity ensues when you go to a family wedding, you walk around, saying hi to people and they say hello, all the formalities…and then you see them a few minutes later, pointing at you from across the room, talking to someone else going "Who is that?". Honest to God, friends. No one knew who I was at my cousin's wedding. My sisters had reported to me that multiple people came up to them going, "Oh, where is Kelly? I thought she'd be here." And they're like "Ummm, you just talked to her. She's right there." Now granted, some of these people I haven't seen in a few years, but still…you'd think it was me if I'm standing with my 2 sisters and my dad. Right? RIGHT?! Hahaha. I found it very amusing. And of course, the old…"Wow! Kelly, I just keep remembering you as 'this high'…". So, let's just say, my "coming out" party in PA was a big success. And, for once, I might actually be the smallest sister. Not QUITE sure…if not, Theresa and I are actually the same size. Wheeeee!
Hi readers! I'm baaaaaack. Sorry for the absence. I've been thinking of you all though. I wrote that above portion on 8/22, saved it into a text document to upload later...and well...later never came. :-) So, there ya go.
This week has made for an awfully soggy Beantown. I do enjoy a good rainy day, but it definitely sucked all of the energy out of me and all i wanted to do was to curl up in the Snuggie and lay on the couch. I managed to drag my ass to the gym on Monday, all full of vim and verve on the "1st day back" to life and whatnot. Then by Tuesday, I was a big pile of mush. I didn't want to do anything. I'm still in a semi-dangerous vacation eating place in my mind. I've just been kind of doing what I want. Not necessarily going nutso or anything, just not being nearly as vigilant as I feel I need to be at this point. I gained about 6 lbs this past month while I was away. I do feel that considering how things were, that's a bit of a victory, although, I'm also a bit disappointed in myself. I took strides to work out, but I suppose I didn't take enough strides to just say no to ice cream and other such yummies.
Good news is that my tastes haven't reverted to liking crappy food. And by crappy, I'm referring to quality, or lack thereof, in this case. For example, on Sunday, my lovely friend, GI Jane, picked me up at the airport and on the way home, we were chatting about grabbing some food, unfortunately time constraints kept this date from happening. I got home, scoured the empty pantry and then decided to go out and find something. Well, I couldn't walk the one block to Ball Square for a mildly healthy, at least yummy, salad. Nor could I walk up the to Magoun Square for a slice of pizza or some nice steamed chinese food. Noooooo. My laziness took me to the 7-11 across the street. I got a crappy sandwich and a bag of sunchips. And they were both gross and reminded me why I don't eat like that anymore. Maybe I just need the reminder sometimes, like with Starbucks pastries. I just need a little bite to remind myself that they are not good and certainly not worth the energy expended to eat them, nor the energy needed to work them off. If I want a pastry, I will get my ass to Lyndell's or another reputable bakery.
That being said, I'm finding it difficult to get back into the swing of things, lifestyle-wise. I'm finding it very hard to eat vegetables right now. I don't want to buy them. I don't want to prepare them. I certainly don't want to eat them. Am I bored? Am I so used to eating the same things that my mind is rebelling against me? I am though, still enamored with fruit. I could eat fruit all day long if it were readily available to me. Last night, at our Wednesday night Catharsis Group, GI Jane cooked up an amazing stir-fry and some homemade wonton soup to die for. Seriously, people. It was amazing. And we remarked that it was dinners like this that make us want to cook and make us want to eat well. And as quickly as the cool days were upon us, they're moving out again...leaving us with hot days, and hotter kitchens. UGH. I don't know about you, but I hate being sweaty while cooking. And I usually don't want to eat hot food when it's boiling hot outside. I suppose the remedy to this problem is simple...either suck it up. Or become more creative with my non-cooking food. People sustain themselves on raw diets everyday. Maybe I can too. Hahaha. I doubt it.
And another somewhat ironic turn of events this week, was the death of my Nike+ sensor. I went to the gym on Monday, hopped on the treadmill, ready to try and run. (I have an aversion to the treadmill that I need to get over come wintertime...) I push the button and nothing happens. And it just keeps saying "no sensor". UGH!!!! So I did an interval workout instead, then did some other stuff on the mat, weights, blahblah. But I got home, read about it, and many sensors never make it to the 3 years they say it will last. Now I just need to get a new one. But until that time, I should take advantage and do some untethered running. They can take our Nike+ sensors! But they can't take our freeeeedooooom!!!!! And then of course, I'm all "Well, if I don't have the sensor, then it won't load on Facebook". Write a goddamn status update saying that you went running, jerk. I like to find excuses, apparently. I've said it before, and I like the accountability factor involved with this Nike+ business. But all i need to do is write it on there. Once it's on FB, it's official.
It's 4pm on a Thursday afternoon, I'm waiting to find out if I'm ghosting tonight or not. To be honest, I hope not. Yes, it's my first night back, and I should be excited, but I'm not. This season, it became a job to me, where it never felt like that before. That just solidifies my thoughts that it's time for Minerva to find greener graveyards. But if I'm not ghosting, then I could go for a run, or do something on Exercise TV and not feel like a giant mushball.
On the job front, I have actually started looking for jobs. I haven't sent out any resumes yet, but when I find one that I like/qualify for, I will. I definitely need a change. I have become complacent in much of my life and I don't like it. I don't like where I've ended up. In November, it'll be my 7 year anniversary with the Bux. NOT where I wanted to be. Certainly didn't think that I'd still be here 7 years later. I do like my coworkers, but that's not enough anymore. I need something to stimulate my brain. I need something to make me feel good about myself again. I need to feel like I'm contributing to something, ANYTHING, except for the growing waistlines of the American public. I want to sing, but can't find the motivation to do so. I need to get new headshots before I audition for anything because I don't look like my pic AT ALL. I've seen some upcoming productions that I'd like to audition for, so hopefully that'll be a kick in the pants. I need to get back with my voice teacher and my coach and really lay down some goals and get myself back in the game. I've been away for too long. I've been using the losing weight/exercise thing as an excuse. It's like I can't focus on more than one giant project at a time. I knew that by losing weight, I'd help my chances of getting roles and being accepted in the opera world. I just used that as a reason not to practice "right now" and not to audition "right now" and not to do anything. I didn't give it up, but I put it on the burner the farthest back there. I need to jumpstart everything. I need to fix my life.
Hi readers! I'm baaaaaack. Sorry for the absence. I've been thinking of you all though. I wrote that above portion on 8/22, saved it into a text document to upload later...and well...later never came. :-) So, there ya go.
This week has made for an awfully soggy Beantown. I do enjoy a good rainy day, but it definitely sucked all of the energy out of me and all i wanted to do was to curl up in the Snuggie and lay on the couch. I managed to drag my ass to the gym on Monday, all full of vim and verve on the "1st day back" to life and whatnot. Then by Tuesday, I was a big pile of mush. I didn't want to do anything. I'm still in a semi-dangerous vacation eating place in my mind. I've just been kind of doing what I want. Not necessarily going nutso or anything, just not being nearly as vigilant as I feel I need to be at this point. I gained about 6 lbs this past month while I was away. I do feel that considering how things were, that's a bit of a victory, although, I'm also a bit disappointed in myself. I took strides to work out, but I suppose I didn't take enough strides to just say no to ice cream and other such yummies.
Good news is that my tastes haven't reverted to liking crappy food. And by crappy, I'm referring to quality, or lack thereof, in this case. For example, on Sunday, my lovely friend, GI Jane, picked me up at the airport and on the way home, we were chatting about grabbing some food, unfortunately time constraints kept this date from happening. I got home, scoured the empty pantry and then decided to go out and find something. Well, I couldn't walk the one block to Ball Square for a mildly healthy, at least yummy, salad. Nor could I walk up the to Magoun Square for a slice of pizza or some nice steamed chinese food. Noooooo. My laziness took me to the 7-11 across the street. I got a crappy sandwich and a bag of sunchips. And they were both gross and reminded me why I don't eat like that anymore. Maybe I just need the reminder sometimes, like with Starbucks pastries. I just need a little bite to remind myself that they are not good and certainly not worth the energy expended to eat them, nor the energy needed to work them off. If I want a pastry, I will get my ass to Lyndell's or another reputable bakery.
That being said, I'm finding it difficult to get back into the swing of things, lifestyle-wise. I'm finding it very hard to eat vegetables right now. I don't want to buy them. I don't want to prepare them. I certainly don't want to eat them. Am I bored? Am I so used to eating the same things that my mind is rebelling against me? I am though, still enamored with fruit. I could eat fruit all day long if it were readily available to me. Last night, at our Wednesday night Catharsis Group, GI Jane cooked up an amazing stir-fry and some homemade wonton soup to die for. Seriously, people. It was amazing. And we remarked that it was dinners like this that make us want to cook and make us want to eat well. And as quickly as the cool days were upon us, they're moving out again...leaving us with hot days, and hotter kitchens. UGH. I don't know about you, but I hate being sweaty while cooking. And I usually don't want to eat hot food when it's boiling hot outside. I suppose the remedy to this problem is simple...either suck it up. Or become more creative with my non-cooking food. People sustain themselves on raw diets everyday. Maybe I can too. Hahaha. I doubt it.
And another somewhat ironic turn of events this week, was the death of my Nike+ sensor. I went to the gym on Monday, hopped on the treadmill, ready to try and run. (I have an aversion to the treadmill that I need to get over come wintertime...) I push the button and nothing happens. And it just keeps saying "no sensor". UGH!!!! So I did an interval workout instead, then did some other stuff on the mat, weights, blahblah. But I got home, read about it, and many sensors never make it to the 3 years they say it will last. Now I just need to get a new one. But until that time, I should take advantage and do some untethered running. They can take our Nike+ sensors! But they can't take our freeeeedooooom!!!!! And then of course, I'm all "Well, if I don't have the sensor, then it won't load on Facebook". Write a goddamn status update saying that you went running, jerk. I like to find excuses, apparently. I've said it before, and I like the accountability factor involved with this Nike+ business. But all i need to do is write it on there. Once it's on FB, it's official.
It's 4pm on a Thursday afternoon, I'm waiting to find out if I'm ghosting tonight or not. To be honest, I hope not. Yes, it's my first night back, and I should be excited, but I'm not. This season, it became a job to me, where it never felt like that before. That just solidifies my thoughts that it's time for Minerva to find greener graveyards. But if I'm not ghosting, then I could go for a run, or do something on Exercise TV and not feel like a giant mushball.
On the job front, I have actually started looking for jobs. I haven't sent out any resumes yet, but when I find one that I like/qualify for, I will. I definitely need a change. I have become complacent in much of my life and I don't like it. I don't like where I've ended up. In November, it'll be my 7 year anniversary with the Bux. NOT where I wanted to be. Certainly didn't think that I'd still be here 7 years later. I do like my coworkers, but that's not enough anymore. I need something to stimulate my brain. I need something to make me feel good about myself again. I need to feel like I'm contributing to something, ANYTHING, except for the growing waistlines of the American public. I want to sing, but can't find the motivation to do so. I need to get new headshots before I audition for anything because I don't look like my pic AT ALL. I've seen some upcoming productions that I'd like to audition for, so hopefully that'll be a kick in the pants. I need to get back with my voice teacher and my coach and really lay down some goals and get myself back in the game. I've been away for too long. I've been using the losing weight/exercise thing as an excuse. It's like I can't focus on more than one giant project at a time. I knew that by losing weight, I'd help my chances of getting roles and being accepted in the opera world. I just used that as a reason not to practice "right now" and not to audition "right now" and not to do anything. I didn't give it up, but I put it on the burner the farthest back there. I need to jumpstart everything. I need to fix my life.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
If You Really Knew Me...
I stumbled upon a new show on MTV called "If You Really Knew Me". I have basically boycotted all shows on MTV for a long while, judging them to be worthless drivel that I shouldn't waste my time on. I saw an ad for this one and decided to give it a shot. Why? Because there's nothing else on. And honestly, I'm so glad that I did. In a time of increased bullying due to the unlimited access to the internet and social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter, schools are faced with a mounting problem. Bullying has been a problem in schools probably since the first schoolhouse opened it's lone door. Human nature has always been about competition, survival of the fittest and all that. Unfortunately, it's come to a point where kids (and adults) are taking their own lives to escape the hell they're going through on a daily basis. We've all been bullied. And we've probably all bullied someone else. Think about how you've acted towards other people. Do you really want to be remembered that way? We all suffer, mostly in silence, because of fear. We're embarrassed and afraid to show who we really are for fear of being ridiculed and made to feel inferior. Life is hard enough, why do we find it necessary to make it harder for each other?
I think back to my high school years, 10th grade, more specifically. For whatever reason, there weren't enough Advanced English classes to fit all of the students who were eligible for the class. I was one of the "unlucky" ones who ended up in a regular English class. I remember walking into that classroom and deciding that to save myself, I would be invisible. I had a lot of "popular" kids in my class and didn't want to become their target by knowing too much, or seem like I was enjoying class. I spent the year hoping to make it out of there alive...and then came our final poetry projects, we were paired off, alphabetically maybe, but however it happened, I ended up with one of the most popular guys in school as my partner. We were to choose a poem, research it, write a paper about it, and then deliver the poem out loud to the class. I chose the poem, "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes, I'm pretty sure I did all the work, and to top it off, my partner didn't even show up to school on that fateful day. So there I was, up on the stage in that "other" auditorium in the back of the high school, terrified I was going to do something that made them notice me. But I couldn't avoid being noticed. I was the only one up there. And for that 5 minutes, I forgot I was trying to hide. I absolutely love that poem and decided to let that show. After I finished reading, cocky Mr. Joe Blair, complimented me...and I smiled. And I remember, clear as day, one of the "popular" girls leaned over to another one and said "Wow, that's the first time I've ever seen that girl smile". Wow. Really? Had I actually made myself so miserable that I actually NEVER smiled in that class? It shocked me. But also made me realize how I had let those people dictate who I needed to be. I can't really say if that changed how I acted in high school. If you knew me in band or choir or one of the advanced classes, I was a different person than when I was in normal track classes. I tried to be invisible. I dressed in a way that wasn't memorable....jeans, tshirts, nothing special. I didn't try to call attention to myself. But in band or choir, I could succeed because of my talents...I wasn't being judged by how I looked.
I do feel that those years have definitely shaped my life. Although, I tried to make up for it in college, by branching out and not staying inside of my shell that I had taken so long to create. But in all of that, I think I forgot to sometimes let my true self out. I was the funny one. I was friendly. I was popular. But I wasn't always happy, but I didn't want anyone to see that side of me. I didn't want them to see that I cried myself to sleep at night sometimes, wondering why things had happened to me. I got good grades, had a lot of friends, was successful in music, but could not, for the life of me, get a date. I felt like such a failure. I felt like i wasn't good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, fun enough. I couldn't figure out why no one would date me. I blamed my weight, which could have been one reason, but didn't think it was a good enough reason. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to feel special. No matter how many awards I won, parties I had, friends I made...I felt alone. I was always the last choice. Luckily, this never developed into full-on depression or anything. I never had thoughts of suicide, although seeing friends go through that was hard enough. I never cut myself or drank to relieve the pain. I ate. And slept. A nap would shut out the world for a few hours and I wouldn't have to think about those things.
Life is tough when you're young. And doesn't get any easier as you get older. Your social circle gets smaller. It's harder to meet people, and when you try, you immediately feel like they're judging you, thinking you're hitting on them or something. Trying to break down the barriers you've created for yourself is so hard. Letting people in makes you so vulnerable. You're just waiting for something bad to happen, for them to laugh at you, to reject you, to leave you. But, if you're lucky, you start to recognize toxic friends and realize what a true friend really is. You recognize who makes a positive impact in your life and who makes you feel like the best version of yourself, or helps you to become that.
Honesty is hard. We all say that honesty is a wonderful thing, but how honest are you really? Do you really say what you're feeling? Do you let people know when they've hurt you? Do you tell people that you love them? Do you show them who you really are?
If you really knew me you'd know that....
-I am 31 years old and have no idea what I really want to do with my life. I want to sing, but don't know if I have the talent to make it happen. I doubt myself constantly, except I know that when I am performing, I am truly happy.
-I am terrified of having children because I don't want them to have a seemingly happy (but quietly unhappy) childhood.
-it scares me that Andrew is my first/only serious relationship and I sometimes wonder if it's a good thing for either of us that we've never been in other relationships.
-I've been both the bully and the bullied.
-I am much more sarcastic than I need to be, most of the time, because it's a coping mechanism for me.
-I am now, and always have been, terrified of failure.
-I feel safe writing in this blog, even though I know that these words will be read by enough people that may or may not REALLY know me, but the freedom that I feel as these words come out makes me feel like it's all worth it.
-I am trying to break down the walls that I've built around myself my whole life.
-I am proud of myself for my accomplishments and proud of you, for yours.
-life is hard for everyone, but sometimes I feel like I've made mine worse by the choices I've made.
-I am scared of not doing anything worthwhile with my life and people saying "Wow, Kelly could have been something...".
-just like everyone else, I just want to be loved.
I think back to my high school years, 10th grade, more specifically. For whatever reason, there weren't enough Advanced English classes to fit all of the students who were eligible for the class. I was one of the "unlucky" ones who ended up in a regular English class. I remember walking into that classroom and deciding that to save myself, I would be invisible. I had a lot of "popular" kids in my class and didn't want to become their target by knowing too much, or seem like I was enjoying class. I spent the year hoping to make it out of there alive...and then came our final poetry projects, we were paired off, alphabetically maybe, but however it happened, I ended up with one of the most popular guys in school as my partner. We were to choose a poem, research it, write a paper about it, and then deliver the poem out loud to the class. I chose the poem, "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes, I'm pretty sure I did all the work, and to top it off, my partner didn't even show up to school on that fateful day. So there I was, up on the stage in that "other" auditorium in the back of the high school, terrified I was going to do something that made them notice me. But I couldn't avoid being noticed. I was the only one up there. And for that 5 minutes, I forgot I was trying to hide. I absolutely love that poem and decided to let that show. After I finished reading, cocky Mr. Joe Blair, complimented me...and I smiled. And I remember, clear as day, one of the "popular" girls leaned over to another one and said "Wow, that's the first time I've ever seen that girl smile". Wow. Really? Had I actually made myself so miserable that I actually NEVER smiled in that class? It shocked me. But also made me realize how I had let those people dictate who I needed to be. I can't really say if that changed how I acted in high school. If you knew me in band or choir or one of the advanced classes, I was a different person than when I was in normal track classes. I tried to be invisible. I dressed in a way that wasn't memorable....jeans, tshirts, nothing special. I didn't try to call attention to myself. But in band or choir, I could succeed because of my talents...I wasn't being judged by how I looked.
I do feel that those years have definitely shaped my life. Although, I tried to make up for it in college, by branching out and not staying inside of my shell that I had taken so long to create. But in all of that, I think I forgot to sometimes let my true self out. I was the funny one. I was friendly. I was popular. But I wasn't always happy, but I didn't want anyone to see that side of me. I didn't want them to see that I cried myself to sleep at night sometimes, wondering why things had happened to me. I got good grades, had a lot of friends, was successful in music, but could not, for the life of me, get a date. I felt like such a failure. I felt like i wasn't good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, fun enough. I couldn't figure out why no one would date me. I blamed my weight, which could have been one reason, but didn't think it was a good enough reason. I wanted to be loved. I wanted to feel special. No matter how many awards I won, parties I had, friends I made...I felt alone. I was always the last choice. Luckily, this never developed into full-on depression or anything. I never had thoughts of suicide, although seeing friends go through that was hard enough. I never cut myself or drank to relieve the pain. I ate. And slept. A nap would shut out the world for a few hours and I wouldn't have to think about those things.
Life is tough when you're young. And doesn't get any easier as you get older. Your social circle gets smaller. It's harder to meet people, and when you try, you immediately feel like they're judging you, thinking you're hitting on them or something. Trying to break down the barriers you've created for yourself is so hard. Letting people in makes you so vulnerable. You're just waiting for something bad to happen, for them to laugh at you, to reject you, to leave you. But, if you're lucky, you start to recognize toxic friends and realize what a true friend really is. You recognize who makes a positive impact in your life and who makes you feel like the best version of yourself, or helps you to become that.
Honesty is hard. We all say that honesty is a wonderful thing, but how honest are you really? Do you really say what you're feeling? Do you let people know when they've hurt you? Do you tell people that you love them? Do you show them who you really are?
If you really knew me you'd know that....
-I am 31 years old and have no idea what I really want to do with my life. I want to sing, but don't know if I have the talent to make it happen. I doubt myself constantly, except I know that when I am performing, I am truly happy.
-I am terrified of having children because I don't want them to have a seemingly happy (but quietly unhappy) childhood.
-it scares me that Andrew is my first/only serious relationship and I sometimes wonder if it's a good thing for either of us that we've never been in other relationships.
-I've been both the bully and the bullied.
-I am much more sarcastic than I need to be, most of the time, because it's a coping mechanism for me.
-I am now, and always have been, terrified of failure.
-I feel safe writing in this blog, even though I know that these words will be read by enough people that may or may not REALLY know me, but the freedom that I feel as these words come out makes me feel like it's all worth it.
-I am trying to break down the walls that I've built around myself my whole life.
-I am proud of myself for my accomplishments and proud of you, for yours.
-life is hard for everyone, but sometimes I feel like I've made mine worse by the choices I've made.
-I am scared of not doing anything worthwhile with my life and people saying "Wow, Kelly could have been something...".
-just like everyone else, I just want to be loved.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
There's no place like home.
I'm currently on day 15 of 18 of the first part of my PA tour. My second part is just short 4 day jaunt down to the Philadelphia area from the 18th-22nd. And at this point, I'm really ready to be at home. It just starts to wear you down just a bit when you're living out of a suitcase and not necessarily able to do what you want, when you want to do it. I suppose I get antsy because in my normal life, I'm used to being able to walk out the door and catch the bus, or walk to the T...or even just walk down the street and find stuff. Country living is a very different life than what I lead.
I'd been doing pretty well with my eating up until the last couple days...been indulging a bit too much, cookies here, ice cream there. You know the drill. My exercising has been really good though, so maybe it'll even itself out in the end. It's supposed to be warm again today, but I can't let that stop me from doing something. I spent the day walking around Kennywood yesterday, but that certainly wasn't anything worth counting as exercise. I'm sure I spent more time standing in line. (And I don't think roller coasters are considered fat blasters quite yet.) I have a few more days away, then a couple days to feel like I'm back in a routine, and then a couple more days away. I think going to Philly is going to be more of a problem as far as working out goes. I may need to get creative. Although, I don't know how much time I'm necessarily going to have that's actually "free". But, as usual, I can't use that as an excuse. I'll have to make an effort to really get my ass in gear.
I'm somewhat excited about seeing my family. I'm definitely looking forward to showing how hard I've been working, but sometimes they are difficult to be around. I guess I'm weird, and a jerk and all, but I don't really feel like I belong. I feel like a visitor. And I suppose that's because of the choices I've made. It was my choice to move to Boston 6 years ago. But they've chosen to never visit me once in those 6 years. (This talk excludes my mom. My parents are divorced, so most of this talk involves my dad and 2 sisters.) I feel like a distant cousin that you see at family reunions, maybe once a year if you're lucky. Everyone does the introductory, surface only 5 minute schpeel "Oh hey, how are you? So good to see you. What's new? How's Boston? How's Andrew?" All rapid fire, and then the conversation dies and they move on to someone else. And I'm left standing there, feeling like an asshole, and wishing I could escape. Sometimes, I'm lucky and Andrew is there to at least be on my side and to talk to me...as I am there for him. But, this time, I won't be so lucky. I'll be flying solo into the land of the self-absorbed Horan family. I'm sure I'll spend a lot of time, talking to people who I don't recognize that claim to know me, listening to my dad try to be the center of attention because he's so great and everyone loves him SOOOOO much. If he wasn't your dad, you'd think the same thing too. Most people do. Pat is so entertaining. He's so funny. But we have no real relationship. I think he feels like if he makes a misstep at some point that I could end contact with him. He may or may not be right. I wouldn't call him a good father. He was/is with my sisters. But not with me. Maybe he felt I was a mistake, as maybe he feels marrying my mom was. Who knows. But I do know that I wish I had a dad that cared more about me than he did about trying to impress people with his tales and his jokes. He claims he does, but the whole act just makes me sick to my stomach. But I will say, I'm lucky that in being with Andrew, I've gotten such a lovely pair of future in-laws, (yes, i said it), in Rosie and Paul. Sometimes I feel like I have a better relationship with the two of them than I do with my own parents. My mom isn't a very affectionate/talkative person. She's quiet, does her own thing. Although, as I've gotten older, I feel like we can talk like adults. But Rosie is a lot warmer and I like that. And Paul. At first I wasn't sure how things would go with him. He's a very quiet man, but always very nice and respectful to me. But when he found out that I could talk sports, that sealed the deal, I think. We've been best friends ever since. Hahaha.
Family is a difficult thing. I also have 2 sisters that I rarely talk to. My oldest sister, Mary, seems to understand me the best. She realizes that I didn't need to stay in PA and understood when I went away to college and finally when I moved to Boston. Theresa, on the other hand, didn't like me from the beginning. She hated my mom, so in turn, I'm pretty sure that she doesn't like me. Sure, when I see her, she's all nicey nice, but I do feel that deep down she resents me. She has 2 kids that I barely know. And I really don't think she cares enough to teach them who I am. I see them at Christmas, I bring them the requisite gifts, and that's about it. I try not to blame myself for this, but it's hard. They don't make it any easier on me. It was MY decision to move to Boston. MY decision to pick a useless career. MY decision to spend everyone else's money on wasted degrees.
And you wonder why I ate?
I just read the title I posted for this entry, and it's comical because I meant to talk about going home. Not going HOME. Boston is my home. I have built a life there with Andrew and my friends, and that's where I really learned a lot about myself and how to grow up and be a somewhat responsible individual. Langhorne/Levittown/Philly area is NOT my home. My family lives there, and I may visit, but nothing about that place says home to me. I have no desire to ever go back there. Maybe deep down, all of the pain is still there.
I was/am an emotional eater. I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I'm stressed. I eat when I'm sad. Confused. Happy. Tortured. Angry. Whatever. My family life wasn't full of screaming and yelling, but it was full of tension. Maybe that's why I turned to food. In the last 11 months, I've tried to figure out that there are better ways to deal with all of those feelings. I've tried to let myself understand that I am NOT who they think I am, not who they say I am. I am exactly who I want to be and I don't have to be who they've made me into. I am my own person. I am creating a life for myself that I love, or will love eventually. If they don't agree with me or my choices, then too bad. They don't have to live my life.
I will continue to send the requisite gifts. I will sit and have the painful introductory, surface 5 minute schpeel. I will smile. At least on the outside...
The time for debate will come. But this is not the time.
I'd been doing pretty well with my eating up until the last couple days...been indulging a bit too much, cookies here, ice cream there. You know the drill. My exercising has been really good though, so maybe it'll even itself out in the end. It's supposed to be warm again today, but I can't let that stop me from doing something. I spent the day walking around Kennywood yesterday, but that certainly wasn't anything worth counting as exercise. I'm sure I spent more time standing in line. (And I don't think roller coasters are considered fat blasters quite yet.) I have a few more days away, then a couple days to feel like I'm back in a routine, and then a couple more days away. I think going to Philly is going to be more of a problem as far as working out goes. I may need to get creative. Although, I don't know how much time I'm necessarily going to have that's actually "free". But, as usual, I can't use that as an excuse. I'll have to make an effort to really get my ass in gear.
I'm somewhat excited about seeing my family. I'm definitely looking forward to showing how hard I've been working, but sometimes they are difficult to be around. I guess I'm weird, and a jerk and all, but I don't really feel like I belong. I feel like a visitor. And I suppose that's because of the choices I've made. It was my choice to move to Boston 6 years ago. But they've chosen to never visit me once in those 6 years. (This talk excludes my mom. My parents are divorced, so most of this talk involves my dad and 2 sisters.) I feel like a distant cousin that you see at family reunions, maybe once a year if you're lucky. Everyone does the introductory, surface only 5 minute schpeel "Oh hey, how are you? So good to see you. What's new? How's Boston? How's Andrew?" All rapid fire, and then the conversation dies and they move on to someone else. And I'm left standing there, feeling like an asshole, and wishing I could escape. Sometimes, I'm lucky and Andrew is there to at least be on my side and to talk to me...as I am there for him. But, this time, I won't be so lucky. I'll be flying solo into the land of the self-absorbed Horan family. I'm sure I'll spend a lot of time, talking to people who I don't recognize that claim to know me, listening to my dad try to be the center of attention because he's so great and everyone loves him SOOOOO much. If he wasn't your dad, you'd think the same thing too. Most people do. Pat is so entertaining. He's so funny. But we have no real relationship. I think he feels like if he makes a misstep at some point that I could end contact with him. He may or may not be right. I wouldn't call him a good father. He was/is with my sisters. But not with me. Maybe he felt I was a mistake, as maybe he feels marrying my mom was. Who knows. But I do know that I wish I had a dad that cared more about me than he did about trying to impress people with his tales and his jokes. He claims he does, but the whole act just makes me sick to my stomach. But I will say, I'm lucky that in being with Andrew, I've gotten such a lovely pair of future in-laws, (yes, i said it), in Rosie and Paul. Sometimes I feel like I have a better relationship with the two of them than I do with my own parents. My mom isn't a very affectionate/talkative person. She's quiet, does her own thing. Although, as I've gotten older, I feel like we can talk like adults. But Rosie is a lot warmer and I like that. And Paul. At first I wasn't sure how things would go with him. He's a very quiet man, but always very nice and respectful to me. But when he found out that I could talk sports, that sealed the deal, I think. We've been best friends ever since. Hahaha.
Family is a difficult thing. I also have 2 sisters that I rarely talk to. My oldest sister, Mary, seems to understand me the best. She realizes that I didn't need to stay in PA and understood when I went away to college and finally when I moved to Boston. Theresa, on the other hand, didn't like me from the beginning. She hated my mom, so in turn, I'm pretty sure that she doesn't like me. Sure, when I see her, she's all nicey nice, but I do feel that deep down she resents me. She has 2 kids that I barely know. And I really don't think she cares enough to teach them who I am. I see them at Christmas, I bring them the requisite gifts, and that's about it. I try not to blame myself for this, but it's hard. They don't make it any easier on me. It was MY decision to move to Boston. MY decision to pick a useless career. MY decision to spend everyone else's money on wasted degrees.
And you wonder why I ate?
I just read the title I posted for this entry, and it's comical because I meant to talk about going home. Not going HOME. Boston is my home. I have built a life there with Andrew and my friends, and that's where I really learned a lot about myself and how to grow up and be a somewhat responsible individual. Langhorne/Levittown/Philly area is NOT my home. My family lives there, and I may visit, but nothing about that place says home to me. I have no desire to ever go back there. Maybe deep down, all of the pain is still there.
I was/am an emotional eater. I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I'm stressed. I eat when I'm sad. Confused. Happy. Tortured. Angry. Whatever. My family life wasn't full of screaming and yelling, but it was full of tension. Maybe that's why I turned to food. In the last 11 months, I've tried to figure out that there are better ways to deal with all of those feelings. I've tried to let myself understand that I am NOT who they think I am, not who they say I am. I am exactly who I want to be and I don't have to be who they've made me into. I am my own person. I am creating a life for myself that I love, or will love eventually. If they don't agree with me or my choices, then too bad. They don't have to live my life.
I will continue to send the requisite gifts. I will sit and have the painful introductory, surface 5 minute schpeel. I will smile. At least on the outside...
The time for debate will come. But this is not the time.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
A picture is worth a thousand words.
I was in the midst of entertaining a very cute 2 year old child, trying to keep her from repeatedly jabbing at my brand new Macbook screen with her messy fingers and was showing her pictures on Facebook. As the photos go back in time, Aunt Jelly (yes, that's my name) gets fatter and fatter. Holy shit. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I mean, I have some fat pictures hanging on my refrigerator at home, but for some reason this really struck a chord with me. I was finally seeing myself how people used to see me, and how people still expect to see me, I suppose. I've had a lot of people tell me that they don't recognize me. GOOD! Thank God! I'm glad I don't look like that anymore. Wow. I mean, I just can't even believe that I really let myself get to that point and was in such denial. Although now, I see how far I've come, but realize that I'm still overweight. But now, I'm what you'd consider "average".
The average woman is a size 14. And now I am one of them. Crazy town.
It's so weird to look at these pictures and barely recognize myself, even though in my mind, I still see myself like that. The human mind is very powerful and it creates a lot of things. I suppose this distortion in my mind makes me slightly understand body dysmorphic disorder. (That's when people see themselves as VERY fat when they are in fact, very, very thin, or vice versa, I suppose.) And as I'm plateauing...or perhaps just not working hard enough to take it off...I see that I have so much more work to do to get to where I want to be.
Being "on vacation" doesn't really help either. I'll admit that yesterday, I went for a run...and then was talked into getting a milkshake on the way home. WTF. Milkshake was good. I got the small size. Did I need it? Not necessarily. Did I want it? I think I did. Could I have said no? Yes, I could have. But did I? No. I did not. I suppose I bowed to peer pressure. But it was hot, and the idea of a cookies and cream milkshake was inviting. Did this derail me? Nope. I ate a sensible dinner. Ate sensibly again today, and went for another run. But I also have to realize that to continue losing, I will definitely have to up the intensity of my workouts. And that, my friends, is where the problem lies...
I've been running now since about April. For awhile, I was really going strong, doing 2-3 miles at a shot, fairly easily and really feeling great. Lately, I get to 1 mile and start slogging along. I am not able to run as far as I was before without stopping for a walk break. Is it mental? Am I mentally beating myself? Is it too hot? Is the weather bringing me down? I just don't know. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell ME! I don't feel defeated. I do keep lacing up my shoes and hitting the road...but I suppose I figured by this point, I'd be ignoring the tally on the Nike+ and just running. I want to document my runs, that's why I use the Nike+, but I should really stop touching it during my runs. I don't know why, but it's making me think about running as a chore. No one is making me run. i don't HAVE to do it. But I LIKE it! I DO! I LIKE RUNNING!!!!! I don't want it to be a pain in my ass. I have enough things in my life that piss me off currently. I don't want running to become one of them. Maybe I should look into that Nike+ bracelet thingy. Maybe it doesn't talk to you.
A few weeks ago, I tried the silent run. maybe I should do it again. Maybe I need to do more of other things. Maybe my running is suffering because I've been lax about strength training. The motivation is in my brain. It just hasn't reached my legs yet. And any bit of humidity in the air makes it harder to breathe, causing a race between my lungs and my legs...which one will give out first. But my brain keeps saying, "Go, go, go...", as my legs and lungs are crying, "No, no, no". I should be improving at this point. I am planning on running a 5K on Halloween. I should be able to breeze through a 5K right now, no problem. WHY is this happening?? I feel like I'm just moving backwards. Maybe I'm jealous. My very wise friend, GI Jane, "accidentally" ran a 5K with some people from work about a month or so ago. It was her first. She is supposed to the 5K with me in Oct. I thought THAT would be her first. But alas, she is already moving on to bigger and better things...running a 10K a couple weeks before the measly 5K. I should be at that point! Why am I treading water, or even paddling backwards and she's racing off towards the finish line?!?! Sure...she was exercising before me. Okay, so I definitely have at least 50 lbs on her. But COME ON. ARRRGGGGHHH!!! I want to run! I want to run the whole 5K. I don't want to walk. I tried a training schedule and it was ruining the running experience for me. The mandatory distance posting was pissing me off. I know I have to train. I know I have to increase my mileage. But how do I do that when it feels like my body (or maybe it's the other half of my mind) is betraying me at every turn?!
I will do it. Mark my words. I will. Kiss my ass, 5K. I will destroy you.
The average woman is a size 14. And now I am one of them. Crazy town.
It's so weird to look at these pictures and barely recognize myself, even though in my mind, I still see myself like that. The human mind is very powerful and it creates a lot of things. I suppose this distortion in my mind makes me slightly understand body dysmorphic disorder. (That's when people see themselves as VERY fat when they are in fact, very, very thin, or vice versa, I suppose.) And as I'm plateauing...or perhaps just not working hard enough to take it off...I see that I have so much more work to do to get to where I want to be.
Being "on vacation" doesn't really help either. I'll admit that yesterday, I went for a run...and then was talked into getting a milkshake on the way home. WTF. Milkshake was good. I got the small size. Did I need it? Not necessarily. Did I want it? I think I did. Could I have said no? Yes, I could have. But did I? No. I did not. I suppose I bowed to peer pressure. But it was hot, and the idea of a cookies and cream milkshake was inviting. Did this derail me? Nope. I ate a sensible dinner. Ate sensibly again today, and went for another run. But I also have to realize that to continue losing, I will definitely have to up the intensity of my workouts. And that, my friends, is where the problem lies...
I've been running now since about April. For awhile, I was really going strong, doing 2-3 miles at a shot, fairly easily and really feeling great. Lately, I get to 1 mile and start slogging along. I am not able to run as far as I was before without stopping for a walk break. Is it mental? Am I mentally beating myself? Is it too hot? Is the weather bringing me down? I just don't know. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell ME! I don't feel defeated. I do keep lacing up my shoes and hitting the road...but I suppose I figured by this point, I'd be ignoring the tally on the Nike+ and just running. I want to document my runs, that's why I use the Nike+, but I should really stop touching it during my runs. I don't know why, but it's making me think about running as a chore. No one is making me run. i don't HAVE to do it. But I LIKE it! I DO! I LIKE RUNNING!!!!! I don't want it to be a pain in my ass. I have enough things in my life that piss me off currently. I don't want running to become one of them. Maybe I should look into that Nike+ bracelet thingy. Maybe it doesn't talk to you.
A few weeks ago, I tried the silent run. maybe I should do it again. Maybe I need to do more of other things. Maybe my running is suffering because I've been lax about strength training. The motivation is in my brain. It just hasn't reached my legs yet. And any bit of humidity in the air makes it harder to breathe, causing a race between my lungs and my legs...which one will give out first. But my brain keeps saying, "Go, go, go...", as my legs and lungs are crying, "No, no, no". I should be improving at this point. I am planning on running a 5K on Halloween. I should be able to breeze through a 5K right now, no problem. WHY is this happening?? I feel like I'm just moving backwards. Maybe I'm jealous. My very wise friend, GI Jane, "accidentally" ran a 5K with some people from work about a month or so ago. It was her first. She is supposed to the 5K with me in Oct. I thought THAT would be her first. But alas, she is already moving on to bigger and better things...running a 10K a couple weeks before the measly 5K. I should be at that point! Why am I treading water, or even paddling backwards and she's racing off towards the finish line?!?! Sure...she was exercising before me. Okay, so I definitely have at least 50 lbs on her. But COME ON. ARRRGGGGHHH!!! I want to run! I want to run the whole 5K. I don't want to walk. I tried a training schedule and it was ruining the running experience for me. The mandatory distance posting was pissing me off. I know I have to train. I know I have to increase my mileage. But how do I do that when it feels like my body (or maybe it's the other half of my mind) is betraying me at every turn?!
I will do it. Mark my words. I will. Kiss my ass, 5K. I will destroy you.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
"May I take your order?"
Eating out is a part of life. And for some people, it's a much BIGGER part of life than it is for me right now. I've been in PA for 3 1/2 days so far, and we've eaten out (or at least out of the house) for at least 1 meal a day...although yesterday it was 2. Very interesting thing I've realized about Western PA...mostly every salad on the menu comes topped with french fries, cheese AND croutons. Actually, come to think of it, a lot of things come topped with cheese. For example, I ordered a cup of chili last night, which came topped with cheese. And as I picked off the cheese, someone commented on how I was taking the cheese off. Well, my salad earlier in the day had some cheese on it, and the salad I was having for dinner was going to have some on it too. No one really needs all of that cheese. And then she said, "Hmm. Well, that's why I'll never be skinny." I suppose it is all about willpower and mindset. A very wise lady I know, let's call her GI Jane, said that she doesn't get cheese when it's a "filler" item, in a burrito perhaps. You can't really taste it in there, so why bother? Good point, Jane. Good point. I'm trying to do the best I can out of my normal routine. But it's tough when restaurants do not offer very many "healthy" options, although I was surprised to find that Eat N Park (an old college favorite) had an "Eat n Smart" menu with many seemingly good choices.
I don't know if it has to do with where we live, or what, but it seems as though metropolitan cities are much more interested in healthy living than smalltown America. I don't think the idea of wheat bread or pasta exists in restaurants around here, so we'll just have to get creative. Today, after a rousing trip to Home Depot, we'll be lunching at Hoss's. OH yes. Readers, if you know what Hoss's is, I'm sure you'll remember the long salad bar full of junk, the heaping mounds of garlic toast and the unlimited ice cream sundae bar. (And yes, it is spelled Hoss's.) But, compared to the other choices I was given....Wendy's, Arby's, McD's, and maybe one other place, I felt this would be the best choice. I can get a piece of meat, be it chicken, steak tips, whatever and pair it with a nice baked sweet potato or some veggies...or both! WHOA! And get some stuff on the salad bar, actually creating a veggie-filled salad. I just know that I won't be able to stomach many more salads. Even in all of this "healthy" living, I don't really resort to salads very often. I find many other options. And when the salad is mostly iceberg lettuce, it's gets very uninteresting, very quickly.
Being in a familiar environment with a new mindset and attitude is a very strange thing. I don't really feel like I need to explain myself to people, but just go ahead with making my choices and hope for the best. Back in the day, we'd spend a lot of time eating junky food, going out for ice cream on the way home from whatever heart-attack inducing place we chose for dinner. And we'd stuff ourselves silly and then feel like garbage for the rest of the night. I was never able to just eat whatever I wanted and not let it show, like my friends. But I pretended like it didn't show. I didn't validate the fact that I was the problem. I couldn't admit that I was the reason i was so heavy. Sure, peer pressure is sometimes tough, but no one was force feeding me french fries and chicken fingers, or fried veggies and ranch dressing. I sucked down those large orders of ice cream with abandon. Thinking that I was invincible against it's deadly qualities, seeking only the sweet sugary taste on my tongue. Crazy.
My life has changed so much in the last year, even though for the most part, it really hasn't. I'm still in the same job(s), still living the same place, still basically doing the same thing....and yet, EVERYTHING is different. I am a different person. I think differently about things, I do things now that I never would have dreamed of doing a year ago. I realize now that I am a much more valuable person. I am stronger. I am able to speak my mind and feel as though what I have to say is of importance. I am stronger than the food that is out there. Not to say that I don't enjoy food, because I really do. But I want it to be GOOD. I don't want to waste my money on mediocre food. And sorry to say, that's what I've found out here in PA so far. There hasn't been anything I've had yet that I couldn't make at home and have it be much better. That's a bit disappointing. And it's sad because for so long, that's what I thought "good food" was. It's interesting how your tastes change. And how you realize that things being passed off as "food" are really, as Michael Pollan puts it, "edible foodlike substances".
My wise friend, GI Jane, (and EOB), have said that as we go on our journeys, we have become much more "judgy". We can't help but internally judge people as we see them order "food", and as they make the choices they make. Sorry, but NO ONE needs a Venti Caramel Frappuccino AND a sausage breakfast sandwich at Sbux for breakfast. That's probably at least 1200 calories already...and you haven't even hit lunch yet! GEEZ! I do a good job of keeping these thoughts to myself, but I definitely watch as I walk through food courts, restaurants. And I've also started to notice more and more overweight people. I see them everywhere. And I want to go up to them, put my hands on their shoulders, look them in the eyes and say "Life doesn't have to be this way.". Is that wrong? I want to help people. I know people don't want help. But I resisted for a long time...and once I found it, in the form of friends, family, books, I just want to pass it on. Life can be better than what it is now. You just might have to work a little harder than you thought to change things...
I don't know if it has to do with where we live, or what, but it seems as though metropolitan cities are much more interested in healthy living than smalltown America. I don't think the idea of wheat bread or pasta exists in restaurants around here, so we'll just have to get creative. Today, after a rousing trip to Home Depot, we'll be lunching at Hoss's. OH yes. Readers, if you know what Hoss's is, I'm sure you'll remember the long salad bar full of junk, the heaping mounds of garlic toast and the unlimited ice cream sundae bar. (And yes, it is spelled Hoss's.) But, compared to the other choices I was given....Wendy's, Arby's, McD's, and maybe one other place, I felt this would be the best choice. I can get a piece of meat, be it chicken, steak tips, whatever and pair it with a nice baked sweet potato or some veggies...or both! WHOA! And get some stuff on the salad bar, actually creating a veggie-filled salad. I just know that I won't be able to stomach many more salads. Even in all of this "healthy" living, I don't really resort to salads very often. I find many other options. And when the salad is mostly iceberg lettuce, it's gets very uninteresting, very quickly.
Being in a familiar environment with a new mindset and attitude is a very strange thing. I don't really feel like I need to explain myself to people, but just go ahead with making my choices and hope for the best. Back in the day, we'd spend a lot of time eating junky food, going out for ice cream on the way home from whatever heart-attack inducing place we chose for dinner. And we'd stuff ourselves silly and then feel like garbage for the rest of the night. I was never able to just eat whatever I wanted and not let it show, like my friends. But I pretended like it didn't show. I didn't validate the fact that I was the problem. I couldn't admit that I was the reason i was so heavy. Sure, peer pressure is sometimes tough, but no one was force feeding me french fries and chicken fingers, or fried veggies and ranch dressing. I sucked down those large orders of ice cream with abandon. Thinking that I was invincible against it's deadly qualities, seeking only the sweet sugary taste on my tongue. Crazy.
My life has changed so much in the last year, even though for the most part, it really hasn't. I'm still in the same job(s), still living the same place, still basically doing the same thing....and yet, EVERYTHING is different. I am a different person. I think differently about things, I do things now that I never would have dreamed of doing a year ago. I realize now that I am a much more valuable person. I am stronger. I am able to speak my mind and feel as though what I have to say is of importance. I am stronger than the food that is out there. Not to say that I don't enjoy food, because I really do. But I want it to be GOOD. I don't want to waste my money on mediocre food. And sorry to say, that's what I've found out here in PA so far. There hasn't been anything I've had yet that I couldn't make at home and have it be much better. That's a bit disappointing. And it's sad because for so long, that's what I thought "good food" was. It's interesting how your tastes change. And how you realize that things being passed off as "food" are really, as Michael Pollan puts it, "edible foodlike substances".
My wise friend, GI Jane, (and EOB), have said that as we go on our journeys, we have become much more "judgy". We can't help but internally judge people as we see them order "food", and as they make the choices they make. Sorry, but NO ONE needs a Venti Caramel Frappuccino AND a sausage breakfast sandwich at Sbux for breakfast. That's probably at least 1200 calories already...and you haven't even hit lunch yet! GEEZ! I do a good job of keeping these thoughts to myself, but I definitely watch as I walk through food courts, restaurants. And I've also started to notice more and more overweight people. I see them everywhere. And I want to go up to them, put my hands on their shoulders, look them in the eyes and say "Life doesn't have to be this way.". Is that wrong? I want to help people. I know people don't want help. But I resisted for a long time...and once I found it, in the form of friends, family, books, I just want to pass it on. Life can be better than what it is now. You just might have to work a little harder than you thought to change things...
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