Super Inspired Writer

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Tuesday, December 31

Good Measure

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?

You may think I am narcissistic. But really I am just your average ex-theater-stage-diva-costume-wearing-showchoir-soprano-attention-getter. I am me and I take selfies. I know I post a million pictures of myself, but let’s not forget pictures of my handsome man, and my adorable kids. I post pictures of my parents, my nephews, and sometimes my students. So why then is it okay for a photographer to capture your best moments but not yourself? Double standard I say. Don’t judge me and I won’t judge you, k?
This is my year in selfies. Just as I have taken pictures of myself up in my room on every monthly bandiversary since my surgery on March 4, I also take pictures of myself in social settings, in homes, outside in the sunshine, in classrooms, on my deck, in my car. I take pictures not because I think I am some beautiful thing, because TRUST ME I do not think this and have the apothecary to prove it. It’s because I want to document where I have been and where I am now. To capture the moments where I feel most like myself, theatrical and playful and free. Alive. 

How will you measure 2014? Measure in love.

Saturday, December 28

The End

Top Ten Things I learned in 2013:
1.     Zumba is all about the shoes.
2.     Running is all about the playlist.
3.     Runners do NOT wear underwear.
4.     Scars are sexy.
5.     Selfies are stupid but addicting.
6.     #soarehashtags
7.     Peanut butter protein in a chocolate protein shake tastes like a Reece’s.
8.     Chicken soup protein shakes taste like vomit.
9.     Doritos are basically a street drug the DARE cop didn’t mention.
10. I can play soccer…..and guitar.

Top Ten Things I want to accomplish in 2014:
1.     Try a 40 days whole foods/paleo diet.
2.     Wear a bikini (I use this term loosely: a midriff-baring two piece bathing suit) at the hotel in Disney where no one knows me.
3.     Get a bikini wax (see #2)
4.     Get down to “overweight” instead of “obese.” (Lose 25 more lbs.)
5.     Jog a full 5K  ( or 3/5 miles at the Shamrock Shuffle in March)
6.     Cut my hair for Locks of Love
7.     Go off the diving board at our community pool and not need the lifeguard or embarrass my children.
8.     Finally finish reading “The Hunger Games” , read the “Divergent” Series…and at least 10 more new books…
9.     Complete a 30-day squat challenge.

10.   Start a volleyball team.

Tuesday, December 24

Ho, Ho, H0

T’was the night before Christmas …

How does time go by so quickly? It seems like you blink your eyes and BAM! Another year has gone by.
Last year I was asking Santa for my surgery. Desperate and hopefully I was crying myself to sleep and praying that everything would go okay and I could look forward to a new life in 2013. But as we all come to find when we grow up, Santa doesn’t exist in the real world. We ask him for gifts, just as we pray to the Father. But at the end of the day, SANTA LIVES IN US.
My third-grader informed me this year that third-graders do not believe in Santa any more. I can’t argue with him, he’s one of those A-types that if the puzzle pieces don’t fit he can’t see the picture. So I told him that no, Santa is not real, as the physical man that rides a magical sleigh from the North Pole. But, that Santa IS real as the Spirit of Christmas. Santa lives in each one of us during the Holidays in the spirit of giving to others, and the belief that if you ask and believe, you shall receive. He is as real as Jesus is real, a spirit to guide us, to fulfill us, to provide.
As parents we spend thousands getting gifts ready for our loved ones. We seek out and find the things they most desire and wrap them up in pretty packages. The joy in their faces when they see their gift makes the whole process well worth the hassle. We grow up to become Santa, we become the Spirit. HE LIVES IN US.
Merry Christmas to all my family and friends who have been there for me this past year. I encourage you all to look inside yourself, find Santa, find the Spirit and HE will provide.

Believe and you will receive.

Thursday, December 12

Coats are Red, Skinnys are Blue

Maybe it’s the freezing cold, which is affecting my ability to rationalize, but today I purchased my first pair of “Rock Star” skinny jeans. They even have a tiny gold zipper at each ankle. Shit just got real.

I mean, seriously, I know that I could have probably found a pair back when I was size 22 (did I just write that publicly? Oh who gives a shit you know what I used to look like…) but I’m from the camp that says just because an item is available in plus size does not mean it should be WORN by plus size. And I am still stuck back a decade where boot cut was where curvy girls were at because skinny jeans served no other purpose other than to make your ass look huge. C’mon, we all watched What Not to Wear and remember Stacy and Clinton’s rules about buying jeans.

But I figured, I am wearing leggings at least a few times a week so that’s pretty much the same thing, and I am pairing them appropriately with tops long enough to conceal my fear of the slightest possibility of camel-toe…so…what could it hurt to try a pair of skinnys? I’m wearing boots now and even though that’s what boot cut jeans were invented for, no one actually wears them UNDER anymore and shoving all that extra material into a boot your calf barely fucking fits into is not going to work.

As much as I am loving both the new clothes as well as the old clothes I had stashed away that had seen better days, I am in constant clothing conflict. I am still learning and a part of me is still skeptical that I can pull off different things now. Prime example is that while we were shopping downtown the weekend after Thanksgiving I saw a red North Face coat I just had to have. It fit fine, I only needed a large, and I loved it in my favorite color. The color of roses and cardinals. But….a RED COAT? Without being in the British military could I really wear that out in public and not look like a cranberry gone rabid? Does anyone wear a red coat??

Well, the answer is yes, I do. I get my ass to Zumba three times a week and I count the calories in even lettuce, and I blog, and I attend my nutrition and support meetings and yes I wear a goddamned red coat. Did I already say it was the color of roses and cardinals?