It is Monday

I am having the Monday blahs or something. Can't think of much to write today. The weekend went well. My summer rehab project(My image) is going well.

Down 5-8 pounds over the last 8 weeks on the Abs Diet. Most of that weight disappeared in the last week. I guess my muscle mass must have finally built up enough to start affecting my fat build up.

I can tell you that I absolutely feel "Great!" (capital G and !! are intended. That is how good it is.) Any time I bend the rules and eat fast food I feel it. Not in terms of guilt, but in terms of the tingle that usually infuses my body gets dulled.

I have an appointment to rid my face of my glasses on Thursday. I'm working hard on my Dad's "dress young and act immature" theory of aging. He says if you do those things no one will be sure exactly how old you are. I think he's right, but I need more make-up now. This is hard for a woman who is used to just washing my face and going to get used to.

I'm also learning to keep my head up and my shoulders back. I learn all these things from seeing pictures of my self and analyzing them compulsively to see what grosses me out then do the opposite.

Today I went to the new JC Penny that is opening in our area. I got a Hot! pair of A.N.A jeans. I can now go clubbing with the Pretty Girls in proper attire if I care to. I realized that my wardrobe sorely lacked good jeans a couple of weekends ago when I was invited out for a Girl's Night with my great looking group of girl friends. (I like to call them the Pretty Girls because that is exactly what they are. I always feel honored to be included in their activities. It is always an education.)I learned that weekend that jeans are required for clubbing. I don't do it much so I was under the impression that people got dressed up and put on skirts (Which they do. But not as much as they wear hot jeans, heels, and a sweet top.)

I took the advice to go low with a raised cut in back and a darker color. It truly works. I even tried on some of the Levi jeans that are aimed at the fat butt, Fight the Mom Jean demographic. I thought they looked horrible on the hanger, but I tried them on. They fit really well except that they had some sort of weird wrinkle action going where my legs meet my torso. It kind of made a rectangle. I thought I would go down a size, hoping that the jeans were too big, but the next size down was pretty darn tight, muffin topped me, and still hinted at that rectangle thing.

I'm trying to keep the costs down on this rehab project, but my Honey's knuckles are growing white from grabbing onto the desk every time he checks the checkbook or reads the credit card statement. I think I'm close to getting there and will quit updating the wardrobe soon(ish). Just hang on a little longer.

Tonight I am scheduled to attend a very interesting Home Show, Party thing. We'll see how that goes. The inventory seems like it should be interesting.

Music Video on call

India Arie's "Little Things"

I'm feeling . . .

Like a little Lip Gloss.



Thanks Lil Mama

I actually went out and bought some of that Revelon lipstick with the colegin (I can't spell it). And some Sally Hansen Lip Plumper stuff. I'm looking pretty hot (if I do say so myself.)

And I still made it in on Sunday (technically.)

Feeling a little . . .

like living for today.


You gotta love 'em. Boingo that is. (and, coincidentally, the moon is pretty full. I didn't plan it that way.)

And for those of you who are still happy, just a little more mellow, although still macabre . . .



Chillin' with the Gorillaz.

Faith Hill, Redbook and Jezebel

Take a look at this entry from Jezebel. This blog is soon to hit my favorites list. Managing editor Anna Holmes was quoted in the Chicago Tribune as saying of the Jezebel staff, "we believe women are taught to hate themselves at a very young age . . . So we don't say misogynist things about a woman's weight." They think Faith Hill looked just fine before Redbook "fixed" her. Me too.

I Told My Honey to Practice up his Photoshop Skills

Radiant Women

I got an email trying to sell me Cheryl Teig's new skin treatment so that I can be an Age Defying woman. That sent me down a trail that lead me to Oprah (Who else? Whenever women are concerned about something, Oprah is there. Isn't she?) then I was ultimately lead to a woman named Dayle Haddon who has written a guide to Ageless living.

It is worth checking the website out because she seems to be making a lot of sense. She believes in the following principles for Ageless living:

	Celebrate Who You Are. I can get behind this because the days that I hate myself for not being 25 anymore are days spent pointlessly. As I've said before, I have come to realize that no matter how bad I feel about my age, it doesn't make me any younger. And who are "They" to say that I can't do what I want just because of the year I was born? Most of them couldn't even begin to guess that year in the first place.
	Nurture Your Spirit. I've been doing a lot more of that this year, and it really relieves a lot of stress. I don't have to be upset because my man goes off and does things he enjoys, because I have given myself permission to do the things I enjoy too. AND, I don't have to be mad at him for not enjoying all the same things I do because MY things are for ME. I can look forward to them and feel good about them.
	Discover Your Wisdom. There is a lot of knowledge we ladies past our 20's have over those young girls. My favorite quote comes from Steven Tyler of Aerosmith explaining why he and his band have it all over the younger guys in music: "They screw. We fuck." And I really think that sums it up, metaphorically, not just sexually.
	Practice Healthy Living. This summer I got crazy and ditched the four cans of Dr. Pepper a day that kept me alive. I started eating food meant to fuel my body in a healthy way: almonds, spinach, berries, meat, etc. And now my body positively thrums every morning when I wake up. I excerise, lift weights, go for walks whenever I can. I can't tell you how much it shows in my attitude, my mindset and my emotions, but if you ask my family, they can.
	Create Balance In Your Life. This one sort of speaks for itself I guess. You don't want to be obsessed. That will drive you and everyone else you know crazy. Have fun. Work hard. Care about others as much as yourself. Makes a lot of sense to me.

I will probably end up buying this book some day. After I get done "dressing myself from the inside out." retooling my appearance is expensive.

Smart Girls

You have to forgive me because I watch a lot of movies and they all blend into each other like a giant movie smoothie in my head. I never remember what movie I was watching or who the actors were. It becomes a giant game of "Vague." But anyway, I was watching this movie the other day, a guy was talking to a girl and he made the comment, essentially, that all girls are beautiful. It just happens that "Beautiful" girls want people to notice how pretty they are, but the girls that choose to hide their beauty want people to notice . . . something else. The girl he is speaking to asks him which one he sees when he looks at her. He replies, "I see everything."

I think that in reality "smart" girls want to find the guy/person that sees everything. I know that's what I wanted.

I spent most of my teen and young adult years thinking I was ugly and dressing accordingly. I remember being mistaken for a guy when I was younger and not really minding it all that much. I worked in a particularly male dominated occupation (technical theater) where I got to play with equipment and hang with the men, and the best part was when some co-worker would look across the platform we were building, through the hammers we were swinging and realize that there was actually a kind of interesting female over there. I had some very great relationships, but I pre-qualified a lot of the men because the ones who could never see beyond the clothes and the hammers into the true me never even approached.

It was a test and the men who passed it were amazing.

At some point as the years passed, somewhere in my late twenties, my feminine side began to emerge. I grew my hair long; I changed out of my denim and flannel; I started to wear make-up a little. And I suddenly realized that men (for the most part, if you just want to date them, and sleep with them) are incredibly easy. Wear make-up, tight clothes, a big smile, an attitude that oozes sex, (you didn't even have to carry through) and they would do anything you wanted them to. When I was a real estate agent, I'm pretty sure a seller accepted one of my buyers' offers because he got to see down my shirt every time I passed the contract across the table. His agent was angry at him because the offer he accepted was much lower than she thought he could have gotten, but he said we all seemed like very "nice" people and he wanted to make us happy.

When I realized this kind of power existed it was addictive (and kind of disgusting in it's simplicity) if you want to know the truth.

I met the man who is the love of my life during this phase. I'm quite sure he would have seen me in my other phase too (He is one of those men who sees "everything" in me.)

But back to the point, the rush is heady, and I often wish I would have known about it sooner. I'm not saying I'm gorgeous or anything, but objectively, I am not nearly the dog I believed I was in my younger days. (Emotionally, I'm every bit of that cast off puppy, and I live in fear that one day everyone around me will catch on and see through.)

However, having played both sides of the issue, with the emotional ugly duckling paddling furiously beneath the water, I'm really considering this whole "stripperization" of American womanhood issue. Is our only choice as women to be Madam Curie or a Madam? If I pick my brain to be my best asset, do I need to give up on my tits and ass - ets? If I shake my money-maker tonight at the club with the girls, why can't my board of directors respect me tomorrow morning?

It seems that whenever people are firmly split down the middle of an issue that there are merits to both sides of the question. I am empowered daily by my intelligence. It will most likely be there for me long after my beauty has faded. But my appearance and my sexuality are equal parts of me. I can't deny them, or I find that I am only half of myself and I am edgy, off-kilter, and lacking a level of confidence. Therefore, I feel greatly attracted to the sexual empowerment movement as well.

A woman willingly exhibiting or sharing her sexual side is a powerful woman indeed. One who is forced or coerced, or who gives it away for a t-shirt in the back of a tour bus, is demeaned and degraded and her power is stripped from her. I understand that too. However, to refuse to embrace the feminine power entirely for fear of seeing it used against us is wrong as well.

I'm gonna be pondering this for a while. As I follow my Abs Diet, thrilled that I am seeing my body change, watching my butt lift and my abs emerge, basking in the glow that a body I'm becoming proud of again can give me. While I dream of having a Flirty Girl Fitness in my area so that I too can learn to embrace my feminine side. While I ride my motorcycle, and raise my children, and strive to integrate all the facets of my world.

Any comments? What else do I need to know?

F is for Frantically Running Around

These past few days I have been running around like crazy and unable to post anything to this page. Don't worry though, my India.Arie phase has me kicking around some ideas about sexual empowerment vs. brains. Tomorrow you will hear from me talking as a "smart girl" who discovered her sexual side almost too late.

But take a look at this and see what you think.

Today I'm Feeling . . .

Like I'm looking forward to a mellow day

full of Acceptance and Self-Love

and I know I am Ready For Love (Happily God has really answered this prayer for me.).

I'm also ready again to embrace my life's possibilities. 'Cause I bet it can only get more Beautiful

Happy Sunday.

Today I'm Feeling A Little . . .

filled with guilty pleasures like:



Which is fun (I'm so ashamed!) in so many languages like:

Mandarin Chinese:



You can also find it in German, but it is not nearly so fun as in Mandarin.

This weekend I am helping a friend celebrate her upcoming wedding by attending her bachelorette party. Last night it was dancing 'til the bars closed in the suburbs. Tonight is it is a visit to The Loft in Chicago.

Guilty pleasures all around. And a few great stories to share once the week rolls around.

Have fun!

"F" this

I don't wait well, and I handle uncertainty with even less grace. This summer has been all about having no control over any direction my life is taking. It is making me miserable.

I have been waiting to see where my employment situation might require me to live, but since I couldn't be sure, I couldn't plan on moving. I couldn't plan on staying either. The result: an entire summer went by during which I could have been nesting, but I just stood wondering: "Should I pack or unpack?"

I had the opportunity to move into a brand new townhouse, but did not want to take it in case I moved out of the area. Now that I am pretty sure I'm not leaving, I still can't take it because no one wants to move if we're not leaving the area. It is more complex than it sounds. We have moved every year for the past two summers and people are tired, but it is still an opportunity that I waited all year to find out I had to pass up. And I really like that townhouse too, but people have done a lot for me in the past, so I can do some things for them when they ask as well.

I'm working on my non-profit organization. I am doing everything I can think of to help it grow into a thriving community for teenage writers, but then comes the part where you leave it up to them to thrive and they are rather slow to react. I have no control over that. I have my visions and I will guide us there, but we are not reaching them as quickly as I had hoped. I need to start scouting out places to hold classes and recruiting students to attend these classes. I control the creation of the brochure, but I don't control the results they bring.

I also am interested in starting a new for profit business to supply financial security while I still have the ability to work on the non-profit. Things are falling together slowly there, and since they are falling together, I continue to progress along doing the few things I can to get my ducks in a row. The franchise I want to buy is a good one. How to organize the financing is another major unknown in my life. I just progress forward in faith that circumstances will lead me where I want to go.

My school district is wondering if it will have a contact for its teachers by the beginning of the year. So I am wondering what will happen there too.

It amazes me that someone who is filled with "Wonder" like I am hates to "wonder" as much as I do. When faced with the unknown, I want to do something . . . anything . . . just to make it go away. I am a woman of action and this summer of frantic inaction has taken its toll on me.

For example, I canceled the family trip to Disney World this summer because I couldn't cope with the planning process. I needed some form of certainty. I couldn't get firm commitments on travel dates. The friend that was supposed to help us when we got there was too hard to reach. So I canceled it, despite the fact that in a moment of inspiration many years ago, I promised my oldest son that we would go by the time he turned 14. Since I could not coast along on one more issue, I canceled the trip. I have two more years to make it possible, plus I got a couple weeks of the relief from at least "that" being taken care of.

But it is so hard not to just "take care" of all the promising issues that leave my life untidy. I could give up on my non-profit and get that time back. However, I risk losing out on an opportunity that is quite fulfilling to me and potentially helpful for many others. The employment issue has pretty much resolved itself for the year, except that I don't understand why the whole process went so quietly. I told myself I would take that as an indication that I am supposed to sincerely pour my efforts into the non-profit. The new franchise opportunity will take some time, but has the potential to make tons of money. This is something I should just pursue flat-out, trusting to fate to open the proper doors. (If nothing else, I learn what is takes to pursue opportunity.) And there is always next year for Disney. The money I make through the non-profit will make a difference in my ability to provide a good time.

Maybe the world is not as bleak as it appears. Maybe circumstances really are gelling. I need to remember: it is not the destination, it is the journey that counts. I just feel like I have spent all summer at the rest stop.

Today I'm Feeling . . .

Like I'm looking forward to a mellow day

full of Acceptance and Self-Love

and I know I am Ready For Love (Happily God has really answered this prayer for me.).

I'm also ready again to embrace my life's possibilities. 'Cause I bet it can only get more Beautiful

Happy Sunday.

Mom Jeans!!

I am always striving to take possession of my sex goddess and save her from becoming caught and imprisoned inside the mommy cage. It is so easy to do because the job is so important and one that I want to give my all.

Take a look at this video about Mom Jeans. I think they make some good points.

There is also a sight called Zafu . It shows you how to find the perfect jeans and bras for your body style. I love that site. Brenda Kinsel, best selling author and fashion consultant, says in one of her books that a great way to look much younger is to get a bra that fits and cinch the girls up a couple inches. I am here to tell you that it works. I got instant results from my man. He really noticed and makes very sure that I take good care of the new bras when I wash them.

F is for . . .

Funky, Flirty, F-I-N-E fine, fat (sometimes), fit, fanatical, fair, friendly, fascinating, forthright, fashionable, faithful, fantastic, finely crafted and tuned, funny, frequent, and, finally, out of words.

And I was thinking I would have to define myself by that other F-word. One I am quickly forgetting.

It has been amazing how many F words are truly adjectives to describe me. If you get a chance, think about it for a few days, and let me know if you see what I mean.

Today I'm Feeling A Little . . .

Pink

as in Not Dead:




and Totally on Top of My Priorities:



Oh so glad to be smart and sexy.

Feeling a litlle . . .

Gwen Stefani today.

Aggressive

and

Whimsically Hot.

Bad Hair Days are Done

After a salon disaster in May that left me looking like a mushroom. I have been waiting for my hair to grow back in enough that a stylist might have a chance to correct it without having to shave me bald and start from scratch. Well, the day finally arrived and I discovered a real treasure in Yorkville: The Wild Iris Salon.

My last trip to the old, and terrible Salon Whose Name Shall Not Be Spoken (or written for that matter) left me feeling inadequate and incompetent. My grief was heightened because I possessed a very attractive haircut prior to that visit, one that I had been living in fear of losing. The fear was justified I guess, but the best part of the whole experience was that it motivated me to get out of the chain salons and try to find a place where I hoped they would really understand me. Happily last, night I did it.

Perhaps it is the predominantly purple and green logo that attracted me. I am a sucker for that color combination. It just screams fun to me. But I'm so glad I went in because Tiffany, the stylist who was assigned to me, was wonderful. She welcomed me, commiserated with me about my hair, truly heard me describe myself, and created a wonderful haircut and color that left me feeling like the hot chick I truly want to be.

The salon is a full service salon with manicures, massages, waxing, gifts. They greet you with the offer of refreshments and even offer a complimentary heated neck wrap while you wait. I took advantage of this immediately.

You see, right before I got to my destination, in the 10 minutes it took me to drive to the salon from my house, I received a call from my son reporting that he had cracked his elbow/funny bone on the counter by our refrigerator so hard that his fingers "tingled and felt hot." When I arrived I called home one last time, fearing that I might have to cancel out entirely. Nine year olds do not understand hot tingly fingers like you or I might. This call revealed that though he only felt "a little better" he believed that he could manage to survive a few hours until I got home -- if his older brother would be his slave and get him everything he wanted. This chance for me to be even more pampered was truly appreciated.

When Tiffany was done I felt miraculously changed as well as professionally cared for. The nice surprise was the price which I found to be quite reasonable considering what she had done for me.

The Wild Iris is best known in my area for offering Diva Parties for young girls, but I am planning to look into throwing some sort of big girl party there in August to celebrate growing more at peace with myself (I hope). Anyway, I look forward to exploring Wild Iris' other services and returning to Tiffany on a regular basis.

Take a look at the wonderful services available there. You don't have to be twelve to be treated like a Diva. For your convenience I have attached a link to The Wild Iris Salon and Gifts I am hard to please, because of many bad experiences in the past, but as I embrace my inner princess I am glad to find places like this are glad to help and very capable of being successful.

Fatty Acids

So...The other day I was standing in Walgreen's about to commit a mortal sin. I was about to actually plunk down the $30 to $50 that pay for a month's set of diet pills.

Yes, I know that diet pills don't help. I know that my diet and exercise plan are what really cause the fat to melt away. But I need to lose weight NOW! I have been on the Abs Diet, using the sample instruction from Women's Helath which gauranteed me flat, sexy abs by the end of June. And, even though I gave my self until mid July because I started late, I'm not seeing the weight drop away. I'm seeing my body tone up. I'm feeling better, and I have more energy, but I'm still 30 pounds heavier than I want to be.

So on the 4th of July I reached my breaking point. I was feeling really fat. Like "one minute I was fine, thinking I looked pretty good then the next minute I was a big old moo cow on steroids" fat.

I was getting ready to go out to the Kane County Cougars game. I love them and they have great fireworks, but every time I'm there I can't help but notice all the great looking women. They look so good in their short-shorts, halter tops, and perfect tans. I don't know if my Man has seen them. He is sweet enough not to mention them, but since some time last year I've been feeling like I can't compete. This trip was going to be different. Since I am pulling together a stylish wardrobe, compete with those little t-shirts with the empire waistline, the ones that look so cute and hide so many flaws, and I have proper shorts that fit right, I knew I was set.

I didn't even make it out of the house before it all crashed around me, psychologically speaking. At one point I even swore I was watching my ankles grow right before my eyes. Despite all my Man's assurances to the contrary, I was barely able to leave the house because I knew I didn't stack up. My man said he couldn't seen it. My mother comfortingly explained that if I was swelling as fast as I claimed I must be pregnant. So I sat myself down in the 10th row of the Grandstand and talked to myself about the realities of life. I asked myself what all my worrying and obsessing would do. Could crying make me younger? No. Could whining make me lose weight? I started to reason myself back into reasonable self confidence again. I even played "I may not look as good as her, but I've got it all over her" to cheer myself up. That was when I took my son to the souvenir shop at the ballpark and caught sight of the elderly whale in the mirror. Tomorrow . . . Diet pills would enter my diet!! It was a promise I intended to keep.

So there I stood in Walgreen's on the 5th of July. I hadn't realized that Alli was non-prescription. I had originally come in to purchase the one that eats away at all the fat around your tummy, so I stood in the Diet Aids section deeply absorbed in the brochure and debating which starter set I would buy. I must have stood there too long because I heard a bright young voice announce over the intercom, "Customer Assistance needed in Diet Aids. . . Customer Assitsance needed in Diet Aids." We've all been taught in communications class that there is the sender, the receiver, the medium and the message, right? The sender may have been trying to get a somewhat confused looking customer get some much deserved help, but she might as well having been saying "Big Fat Cow hanging out in Diet Aids. Mooove along, Bossy!"
I dropped those pills and got out of there so fast.

Actually, I'm grateful to her. I had no business buying those pills. According to the literature my weight doesn't qualify me. I can put $50 to so much better use. As a matter of fact I am planning on signing up for dance work out classes in the fall. That is so much better for me than diet pills.

But what I want to know is where is this warpped since of body reality coming from.

I Am . . . . The "F" Word!

Last year I could ignore it. This year I can't.

By virtue of the year I was born, I am now, officially, The "F" Word. I can't even say it. My sons won'' even entertain the idea. They know better. When they find me staring quietly into my coffee cup, looking as if I have seen the end of the world, they pat my back and whisper "Why is it so rough for your to be 25?" We all know it is not so. We also know that I can pass for 32 to 36 on most days, but lately I can't ignore it. I am the "F" Word.

I tell myself that no amount of crying, being depressed, and complaining can change the date of my birth, so I should just let it go. Age is just a number. But the fact is I became the "F" Word much more quickly than I was prepared to.

When I was a teen, and I had the great body (You will just have to take my word for it. I did. At least as I remember it.) my mother wouldn't let me wear the clothes that truly showed it off. She said I had a lot of time for that when I was older. Now I'm older, confident in my sexuality, and I'm not supposed to wear those clothes because I don't want to look pathetic. As Chris Rock says when a woman gets my age, "Those are his titties," meaning my man's. They are not the "world's titties" like they are when a woman is 20. Do I believe Chris Rock? I don't know.

So I don't know what to wear.

My body is slowly betraying me. My metabolism slowed down (or something). I am probably one and a half times the person I was when I was 20. Enter the Abs Diet, this summer, which promises that I will have flat, sexy Abs by the middle of July. I have two weeks to go; they are flatter, maybe sexier (?) but they are definitely not they abs on the cover of the magazine. We'll see. I continue to persevere. I'll tell you how it goes.

You will enjoy the story about my last trip to Walgreen's.

I have no idea who I am anymore. Well, that's not true. I am realizing myself daily. That's actually one good thing about this decade in my life, but I battle constantly with who I am, who I was, and who I am becoming. Questions like the following dog me daily: Should I even be doing this at my age? Was my mom as young as I am when she was my age? How come I didn't know? What does age have to do with it anyway? If I do that/buy that/like that, am I turning into one of those crazy middle aged women who I hate? Do I care? Should I care?

Therefore, I have decided to explore this time of my life and process it before it processes me. It feels like puberty backwards. Instead of being too young and not being able to dress the way I want, and do the things I want. All the while wondering when the boys will like me. I'm having a hard time dressing the way I want, and doing the things I want, all the while wondering when I'm going to get too old and the boys will stop liking me.

I wish someone would have told me that it would come so soon.

Stay tuned.

The F Word