It's that Time

I feel compelled to mention that it's Halloween. So, cheers to your costume clad selves.

My only store bought costume when I was a kid, was Fred Flintstone. I can't remember having a deep love of Fred,but apparently he was a winner to me.

Last year here at work, we did a group theme of Creepy Carnival, and I dressed up like a bearded lady. This year during work, we did The Shining. And me and Nevada dressed as the creepy dead twins.

It's fun to escape someplace else every now and then.

Happy Halloween!

You too?

I've heard the pep talk. We all have. Which goes something like this:

"Anything worth having requires hard work and lots of struggles. And the struggles are there to show you how bad you want something. When you struggle and then overcome it, you're stronger and you've proven to yourself you can do it, when you really want something."

The struggle I'm dealing with and have been dealing with is my struggle with the scale. I've been losing weight steadily now for a while, and I am about half way at this point. And I am struggling.

My resolve is still strong. I know in my heart that this is something that I need to do, that I want to do, and that I will finish. But, lately it's been very hard. I don't find myself wanting to eat a bag of Doritos's in one sitting or anything like that.

But I guess that part that is wearing on me right now, is the constant need to calculate what I'm eating, what I just ate, what I will eat next. This level of concentration is part of the process, but it's tiring. I wish I didn't know exactly how much I ate at any given moment, and I wish I didn't have to keep track of how much I weigh down to the tenth of a pound.

And I'm not saying the other way I was living my life was the right path either.

Never keeping track, and then over-eating at every single meal and feeling bad about it. Feeling bad every morning when I got up, trying to get dressed for work, and feeling trapped in my own body. Not knowing how to break that awful cycle.

For people that say, just stop eating junk food: It's not that simple. It's like telling an alcoholic to stop drinking. They don't drink because they're thristy, and I didn't eat too much because I was hungry.

Sadly, this problem will be with me even after I finish losing the weight. Only then it will become a question of how to keep off all the weight I worked so hard to shed?

I will keep asking the question. I'm a fighter, so I will keep battling, but I am tired.

The Big 5

My friend tagged me to do this exercise, so I'll give it a go.



Five reasons I am a strong writer:

1. Authentic Voice: Or should I say, I have found a voice in which to write from. I seem to excel at memoir type writing,but even when writing about fictional characters, I am able to translate dialogue and charaters that have real depth.

2. Daily Practice: I will put this as one, only because my day job involves me being a copywriter, which means I do write every day. Granted, I write about cars, but still, I'm putting hand to keyboard on a consistent basis.

3. Truth: I can find the truth in a situation that others can relate to.

4. Pure Passion: I do LOVE it. I have been uninspired in my own writing, but I have recently signed up for comedy writing classes through Second City Detroit and I'm hoping that will push me into some new material.

5. Read: I'm going to borrow this one. I too, love to read. Always have, always will. I've recently caught reading fever again, and it reminds me why I love it. I find reading other writers too is inspiring and it's a constant lesson in vocabulary.

Zoo and Then

Age 3 or 4: I wished to be an elephant keeper at the zoo. I dreamed of feeding and watering the elephants, until I actually visited the zoo and saw just how big an elephant was.

Outfit of choice: My Grover jumper and Navy blue tights.

This past weekend, I went again to the zoo. It was a great day for that. Great weather, not too crowded and lots to see. But the zoo wasn't as magical as I'd remembered nor was it as depressing as I feared it may be.

Outfit of choice: My new boot-cut dark jeans and my black v-neck sweater that I paid too much for at Banana Republic.

I avoided the nachos, the cotton candy, and best of all the dish renowned at amusement parks the world over, the cup of fries.

Still, I live about a mile from the zoo, so it was time I went to the see the animals.
And except for a something I can only describe as a rape in the Kangaroo play area, it was a good time for all.

Rules of the Office

I don't claim to be the perfect office worker, but I've learned a few rules or guidelines along the way to ensure I'm not, "that annoying girl at the office."

Here are a few things you can do to keep the status quo between the cubicle walls.

1. Headphones: If I'm going to listen to my Johnny Cash, my Merle Haggard, or hell even my office lite, Harry Connick Jr. I don't assume that others around me want to listen too.

2. The community microwave: Never cook FISH in the company microwave. This will make you the butt of jokes and is sure to garner you dirty looks from co-workers.

3. Phone Calls: If you need to make a personal call, use your cell phone and move away from your immediate seating area. This allows you both some much needed privacy and also prevents your co-worker from listening to you describe some symptoms to your doctor.

4. Bathroom stalls: Leave the cell phone out of the bathroom. I don't want to hear you talking to your friend while you're on the toilet.

5. Bathroom Part 2: I know from time to time we all have to do what we need to do, but for godsake, please employ the courtesy flush, so you don't wreck the bathroom for the rest of us for the afternoon.

That's all I've got for now, but check back as I will update it from time to time.

Wednesday of my 34th

I'm feeling inspired after last night's comedy class. I think it's going to be a great experience. What's not to love? I love to write, I love to laugh, and I'm going to spend 8 weeks learning how to do both of those things better.

And for homework? I have to study my favorite comedy shows. It was time for me to have a new creative outlet, to stir things up and so I shall start on this journey. Last night I had a hard time falling asleep, as I was so pumped up.

In other news, I won the battle of the scale again this morning. So, things in that regard are going great and I'm very happy about that. I've been working on it very diligently and it’s nice to see some results.

Amy is in town, recovering from gall bladder surgery, so we're meeting tomorrow for drinks, naturally.

I'm plugging away reading Lolita for my writer group, but I'm having a hard time with it. It's fucking creepy. I don't care what rationale you've got, but when a grown man is enthralled with a 12 year old, it's just hard for me to find that endearing.

But maybe I'll change my mind by book's end.

Tonight, I hope to get a good night's rest. It's been a busy week so far, but a happy productive one as well, so I'm not gonna complain. At least not right now.

Funny Ha Ha

Tonight I start my comedy writing class through Second City Detroit which is of course in Novi. But then the Detroit Zoo is about a mile from me in Royal Oak.

Detroit is kind of something you say, but don't really mean.

Like the following phrases:

1. Let's just be friends.
2. No, really it's not you.
3. Yes, I love this meat-loaf cabbage casserole with melted Velveeta.
4. Sure, I'd be happy to help out on that project.
5. Wow. I can't tell this tofurkey isn't real turkey.
6. That new haircut really accents your face structure.
7. I'm going to start volunteering.
8. It's time to start walking/biking to work.
9. I love to recycle.
10.I can't wait to see that new historical epic movie at the art-house theater.

The bookend of Friday to Sunday

This weekend I laid low. Watched some good bad tv, Entourage on DVD.

Mostly, I did this because I was sick. Getting over something, I am still not sure what I had, but I was just feeling tired and run down. My energy wasn't what it has been.

It worked out ok, since I was also broke. But it was also nice to be quiet and not be running all over the place, like I normally do all weekend.

So, the laundry pile is shrinking to a reasonable amount, I baked homemade low fat oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, I found this lotion that I love which means on any given day, I'm gonna to smell like dessert. Which keeps me from eating it, so hey whatever works.

Had to postpone a visit with my dear friend K, but I think the rest did me good. And I'd rather see her when I'm feeling good, not like I'd rather be napping.

Going Home

Last weekend I headed up to Lake Leelanau to spend the weekend with my mom for her birthday.

On our agenda? A Bobby Bare concert. For those of you who don't know, Bobby Bare is an old country singer from the 60's and 70's, who sang a lot of sad songs, some funny, and always entertaining.

For me, my reaction to Bobby is a mixed one. It first reminds me of growing up in our old farm house on Cedar Island Road, behind Lakeland High School. My parents were still married, we had a record player and my dad used to listen to Bobby Bare. Loud.

Later, after the divorce I used to listen to the old records, maybe trying to recapture some of that time, and my favorite Bobby Bare song, is called Cowboys and Daddies.

It was about a divorce and a dad that took the kids for picnics on Sunday afternoons.

At the concert, the 5th row center was left open, so my mom and I snuck up and got a really close view of Mr. Bare, who is dressed in head to toe denim.

There is something truly authentic about those old country guys. They're not flashy like the new people, but they just seem humble, honest and after all these years, all they care about is singing a few songs and going home to their family.

I was glad I finally met the man who provided my childhood with a soundtrack full of memories.

Mr. Bare

Some kids grew up listening to Elmo or Seasme Street sing alongs.
Not me.

I grew up with my parents old record player that scratched out everything from Fleetwood Mac, the Beatles, Roger Miller, and Bobby Bare.

Mr. Bare is a country artist who sings folk type songs about other men's wives, picnics with their daddy on Sundays and, maybe one of his most well known songs, "Drop Kick Me Jesus."

This weekend as an adult, I will see Mr. Bare in concert at a casino in Northern Michigan with my mom. We're celebrating her birthday with a concert, some beer and lots of watching of old people, I'd guess.

I'm excited about this venture cause either way, I'm due to have a good time. Either just great or so bad it's awesome.

Heading up after work tonight.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Push It

This morning on the Today show, they devoted an entire segment to this new trend called Push It presents.

Basically, when your wife, girlfriend, or significant other has a baby you, as the husband are supposed to shower her with anything from diamond earrings to tennis braclets.

Now, call me crazy or a feminist, but I think this is insane. I mean, if your husband wants to buy you some flowers or some small sentimental token to help mark the celebration of the new baby then, that's a kind thoughtful man, and you should consider yourself lucky.

And I will say right now, I don't have a baby, nor have I ever been pregnant and maybe this is just from a single person's perspective, but why should you expect gifts for having a baby?

Isn't the fact that you were able to carry a child and give it life enough? Doesn't the fact that you and your companion convceived a child because you love each other count for something?

Futhermore, when a gift is expected, it's no longer a gift. Sure, we all love presents and we like to feel cared for, but if you go into something feeling ENTILTED to it, in my opinion it loses some of the sentiment.

And does that mean you're going to buy your husband a gift for getting you pregnant? Maybe he'd like something too.

Beleive me, I know labor is hard work. I was a labor support person last year for my best friend, and I was in awe of how amazingly hard it all was for her.

But she was doing what women have done for centuries and I just think that her healthy son was a miracle, and worth more than an infinite amount of diamond jewelry.

These Shoes Were Made for Pain

I wasn't meant to wear cool shoes. Unless they have some built in comfort apparently.

This morning, while I was dressing for work, I thought I'd break out my cool new shoes, a black patent shiny shoe with an ankle strap, aka, death shoe.

It's only 11:30 am, and I've already had to retire the shoes to my car, as my ankle bones are rubbed raw and I didn't want to inflict further damage. But darn, they were cute.

Beauty is pain, but apparently I'm no sadist. At least not today.

And Then

It's a rainy Monday.

Weekend had some ups and downs, like life usually does.

Cancer took the life of my best friend Connie's cousin, who was only 34. And his wife is due to deliver their first child in 10 days.

Sometimes, I'm not sure if I beleive in GOD has a reason for this or that. Sometimes it just seems like a cruel joke, that no one would ever find funny.

I spent the day with Connie yesterday. We were celebrating her birthday so we just tried to hang out and just be.

You can do that with an old friend. When there's nothing to say, you just show up.