Wednesday, August 28, 2013

The End of Privacy?

I try to be private.  I just don't like everyone up in my business.  I have even been avoiding updating my LinkedIn because I don't want to share my move with old friends from the past that I no longer associate with.

As I get older, I want to control who I spend my time with more and more.

Of course, I am a hypocrite, too.  I stalk Awful's wedding registry, but I wouldn't want him to do it to me....true confessions are ugly.

Lately, with new technology (especially iPhones and other smart phones) everyone can be caught.  If you are doing something that you wouldn't want someone to know about, you really shouldn't partake in it.  Thank goodness I went to college when cell phones were just becoming mainstream....the way I used to party was perfect blackmail material.  Drunk girl - check.  Short skirts sometimes without proper undergarments - check.  Irrational anger that could result in chicken nugget throwing - check.

I am SO lucky I was born in the early 80's.

Last night, in between working, I searched out some celebrity gossip and learned of a new brewing scandal.  Steve Ward (some wouldn't consider him a celeb) from Tough Love on VH1 was recorded convincing a prostitute to sleep with him in exchange for a spot on his show.  The entire conversation including the sex that followed was leaked to the media.  There is speculation that it was shared because the gal he seduced never made it on to his show this season.  I listened to the entire rendezvous and I lost a bit of my life, but, Steve Ward comes off terribly.  He speaks against the idea of matchmaking (what he does for a living) and he just sounds like a total pig.  In addition, he has a girlfriend who lives with him, so he is also a cheater.

I used to watch Tough Love.  I actually liked it.  I really enjoyed Steve and I felt like he was genuine. I was convinced that with his hard-knock advice, he was helping the lost ladies on his show.  I personally related to them when it came to body and self esteem issues.  I remember tuning in once while visiting Sissy and she came into the room and said, "You watch this?  Doesn't the host remind you so much of all the stupid entitled douches that we went to high school with?  He is such a scum bag, I can tell."  I defended him, but she wasn't wrong.

But, is it right that Steve had a private exchange recorded without his consent?

Lately, I think to myself, if you wouldn't want it thrown back at you, don't write or say it.  You never know what may be used against you.  As the world changes, the people in it need to adapt.

There is a thin veil between public and private.  Celebrities who used to be able to be assholes or just plain crazy privately can't really get away with it anymore.  People I once never really thought of, I now don't care for: Ashton Kutcher, John Mayer, Kanye West, Lindsay Lohan, Amanda Bynes, Justin Beiber, Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift, and Reese Witherspoon to name a few....all because of the way they portrayed themselves on Twitter, because they were involved in a scandal, or because they just seem very nasty and unlikable when filmed on camera without being prepared, so in real life. 

There is so much public scandal and deceit that more and more, people feel like they can be cheated.  That no one is really who they claim to be. With too much exposure comes too much room for interpretation.  It will be difficult to ever regain control again.

Back in the day, scandals were not blown open as often.  Celebrities had handlers, PR agents, and assistants who worked hard to protect their public images.  Famous people, stay off that Twitter if you cannot control yourself!

I do think that I would be happier if I lived 100 years ago.  I am not into all of the minute by minute correspondence and I love dresses and really supportive undergarments.  I would rather show my friends a photo book in person that an album online.  But, I try to not be such a crotchety old lady......

Even though I just want to sit alone with some lemonade, cookies, and a typewriter while I create a letter to send an old friend via snail mail.

Sometimes I dream I could send my iPhone to space while I sail to a deserted island, but then I hop on the gossip sites and whisper "hypocrite" to myself just like Gretchen does when she speaks of Vicki.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013


I am not a person that wants so much.

I drive an old car, I buy my purses and shoes from TJ Maxx (I have great luck there, but still, they are never the newest styles or super luxe), I don't follow trends much as I prefer classic clothes that fit well.  I find chasing fads to be exhausting.  It is something that Crush and I have in common, we prefer timeless things.  

Yes, I LOVE my beauty products, but I try not to want so much.  It is one of the reasons why even though I enjoy looking at Pinterest for inspiration and quotes, I avoid getting too involved in it because it is a pile of want and I find myself wanting more than I feel I should, whenever I log on.

I hate shopping.  Not just because I currently hate my size, but because I feel like I have enough in my closet.  I don't care about impressing people so much anymore or being considered sexy, so getting dressed is a simple act...boring.  I did love wearing dresses when I was smaller and wonder if I will again when I reduce.

Yet, I want food.  I want chips, candy, pizza, ice cream.  I dream about what I want to stuff myself with even though I am getting to the point where my inner voices can designate a craving from the beginning of a binge.  Gone are the destructive thoughts of, "today I will binge and tomorrow I will starve."  Allowing myself to actually feel sad, bored, angry, tired, or scared and not just throw food at the uncomfortable emotion is an entirely new thing for me.

There is one thing I really want.  I feel foolish even admitting it, but I want a big engagement ring.  A huge one, to be completely honest.  It actually upsets me.  I wish I didn't care.  I don't want to want something so badly.  But, I do.  And yet, I don't have the best idea why I want a big ring so much.   This annoys me, I want to know why I feel this want deep inside of me.  

Is it because I want to prove something to friends, family, and strangers?

It is because I feel like I have waited long enough and I deserve it?

It is because I know Crush can afford to get me something fantastic?

It is because my mom and sister both have stunning rings?

It is because I want a symbol of my love and my love is so big and bursting?

After much thinking, I speculate that my WANT of a big ring is because my hand is large (I am 5'10" after all with a size 8 ring finger) and when I tried on rings in the past with Awful, everything looked small on me.  It made me feel very bad about myself, about my size.  At one of the jewelry stores we visited, a saleslady told me, "A big lady like you needs a big rock.  Anything less than (insert pretty large size stone) will look minuscule on you."  I remember going home that night and crying in the shower.  She validated my thoughts under those bright florescent jewelry store lights.  The rings I tried just didn't is the same feeling I get when I try on my favorite jeans and I can no longer slide them over my hips.

Why did something exciting and fun like trying on rings have to be about my stature, too?

Another reason is because in my family, there are a few pieces of jewelry that my mom inherited from her aunt that are fabulous.  Big and sparkly.  Classic.  Sissy picked the most phenomenal stone out of the bunch to reset for her engagement ring and I have been given the matching band to wear as my wedding band.  It is vintage and chock full of gleam and just my style.  I love the idea that in the future, someone in my family will want my ring or at the very least my stone.  I want one of my future family members to be proud to have something that belonged to me, something that symbolized my love with Crush, just like how I am so proud to be able to wear my great-aunt's wedding band someday.  I know that if my ring is fab, there is a better chance someone will want it as least that has been the case in my family when it comes to inherited jewelry.

And then, there is a last I wish I could escape.  I feel like a big ring will validate me enough to continue with a healthy lifestyle.  That something big will motivate me to stay on track, remind me of all the life there is to still live out there.  I remember Sissy once telling me that her engagement ring reminded her that she was officially living for someone else, so after she got engaged (almost 5 years ago!), she felt it was easier to make better choices.  I could see myself feeling this way, too.

I wish I didn't want.

I wish I could be happy with something small or even nothing at all.

Sometimes I hate how I feel, but I hate the feeling of lying to myself even more.

Monday, August 26, 2013


I cannot believe I am getting so close to moving down South.  All of a sudden this weekend, I really thought about it and I started freaking out.  I had a mini anxiety attack prompted by 2 things, 1 involving a scooter:

1.  Crush asked me what we would be doing for Thanksgiving and I thought THANKSGIVING!!!!  I have so much to do before then and then I panicked....I seriously got into bed with some popcorn and Netflix and hid under the covers for a few hours.  The thing is that I have NO idea what I will be doing for T-Day.  I may have to work considering my new job could call for it (I worked Tday early on in my career when I worked at a hotel).  Then, I realized that I won't be hanging out with my parents all of the time which is a beautiful thing, actually.  I am just so used to them these days that I started to miss them already.  Codependency at its finest and not normal.  Never claimed I was. I have turned into a 32 year woman-child.  It shocks me considering I was begging to go to overnight camp for 8 weeks when I was 9.  I love my folks, but I did once stand on my own 2 feet....time to get out of the nest.

2.  I saw Awful (I KNOW, I KNOW....I MUST leave this city ASAP as WHY OH WHY DO I KEEP SEEING MY EX?!?!?) riding a new scooter with a sidecar while I was taking a client to an appointment.  The very scooter and sidecar that I once joked that I thought was awesome and silly and that I could ride in because I didn't love riding on a scooter (more to come on that here in the following sentences).  Bonus, his fiance was riding my old scooter.  A scooter that Awful bought me for Hanukkah our second holiday season together.  A scooter I was never fully invested in myself because it scared me and because my parents didn't approve.

I know, I know, I defer to my parents sometimes, but hear me out. My mom got into a motorcycle accident on her honeymoon and broke both of her legs, shattered her knees, and broke her right hip.  It left her disabled (she has had arthritis since she was a little girl, so it made her bad legs worse) and all of my life, my parents asked that I never ride a motored 2 wheeled vehicle and I obeyed them until I met Awful...a man OBSESSED with things that go fast and have less than 4 wheels.

I always felt that Awful wanted to sway me against my parents and take "his side" when it came to the motorcycle and scooter riding.  I know it sounds silly, but he was very jealous like that.  He wanted to control me and knew that I also wanted to make my parents happy, so it was a really messed up triangle.  He didn't like when I saw my folks, spoke to them, or took their feelings into account.  It was all sorts of CRAZY considering that he couldn't have been further up either of his parents asses and saw them almost weekly (and they lived over 3 hours away and spent the night at his place at least 1 weekend a month).  He spoke to his mother multiple times a day, so it wasn't like he was this strong independent man free of parental control.  It was just that he thought he was always right and his way was "the way."

When I sensed he may be buying me a scooter, I remember telling him "as much as it seems fun and I like how they look (they are so cute!), I really can't do that to my parents."  2 weeks later, there was a shiny (and adorable!!!) red scooter waiting for me when I returned home from work one freezing December evening.  I remember thinking "FUCK!!!!!  I love this, but I can't ride it...." I felt super conflicted.  The scooter is the perfect metaphor of our relationship....this love/hate - push/pull.

I am annoyed that he found someone to scoot with.  I know finding a scooter partner must have been important to him.  When I first started dating Awful, he was very caught up in all of the things his ex-wife wouldn't or couldn't do. I am sure he tells his fiancĂ© about all about my shortcomings (from his perspective and only according to him), too.  "You wouldn't believe Ready and Fading!  She wouldn't even ride the $5,000 scooter I bought her because her mom once fell off of one.  What a baby, she is so weak."  (SIDENOTE: Awful loved to add value on to things to exaggerate, the scooter was about 3 grand and as I shared earlier, my mom's accident wasn't minor.)

I am just sad (and in many ways, amused.....) that she has to ride my Hanukkah present from 2010.  I am sure that she has no idea that it was mine first, he isn't a truth teller.......but, there was a slight twinge of satisfaction as I saw her wobbling by on it.  The truth is that as gorgeous as the scooter was, it was a bitch to ride and very heavy for a girl to master.  Not surprising since he bought it for himself, really.  He loved riding it and when I dumped him the first thing he screamed was, "YOU CANNOT HAVE THE SCOOTER, IT IS MINE!!!!"

SO WHY DOES THIS PISS ME OFF?  Well, because on a beautiful Sunday I am working and he is having fun scooting.  I guess I realize that I don't want him to be happy, really.  I know, big confession there.  I want him to be fat, miserable, weak, and alone.  I want bad for him as much as I want good for me.

I just want to be able to enjoy my life without having to see him.  Seeing him brings back so much pain for me.  There is no love there, but there is still a burning hate.  I want to be over it all.  I want the past to be all in the past as I know it is, BUT I hate seeing him ALL OF THE TIME!

 I can't wait to leave this place!  A city where THE WORST EX-BOYFRIENDS EVER are out on the town, riding Stellas and killing my mood.

A few more short weeks and I will never be haunted by the real life ghost of Awful.

That in itself is worth passing up on all of the adorable scooters in the world.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Once In A While An Article Really Hits Home

Are you familiar with xojane?

When it first started, I was a huge fan and since then, I don't love the articles as much as I used to, but once in a while, there is an excellent article that really hits home for me, like this one.

Gaining weight has been the hardest thing for me these past few years.  Harder than my abusive relationship with Awful, harder than moving back in with my parents at 30, harder than trying to make a long distance relationship work while I run a very stressful (and often ridiculous) business.

I didn't gain 90 pounds in 1 year like the author, but I did gain 45 pounds in less than 4 years and it has been the biggest weight gain I have ever had.  Yes, there have been times in the past that I have put on 15-20 pounds in a few months due to stress, happy new love, or simply falling out of my gym routine.  But, these 45 pounds have been different.  They were put on solely because I was unhappy, severely depressed, and feeling alone. I emotionally ate my way to a place that even I couldn't really understand.  I abused food so severely, that I can no longer fully trust myself to nourish my body without hurting myself bite by bite.

As I look back upon my eating history in therapy, I realize that my relationship with food has always been totally restrictive or completely reckless.  There has never been moderation and learning it has been difficult.  It is hard to try to build healthy limits with something that soothes me, gives me structure, and keeps me company...but it is food?!  Food shouldn't be filling all of these emotional needs as much as it does for me.  I am relearning my entire way of thinking about it: hunger cues, fulfilling cravings, eating until I am satisfied.  I feel like a baby sometimes.

In a quest to get super real with my journey and stop using crutches to pacify my fear of calories and knowing exactly what I am eating, I have been encouraged to stop WeightWatching and begin tracking calories on a calorie tracker.  I am using MyFitness Pal (there are a ton of others out there, too).  I have tried calorie tracking before, but not in an entirely healthy way....always by majorly restricting to get a quick result.  I am so over doing that, finally.

My food therapist encouraged WeightWatchers until I became disordered with my tracking.  You see, WeightWatchers constantly changes their programs (almost yearly) with new plan updates which I hate to say, but are most likely business related....they need update things so current members have to relearn and recommit and new members will be encouraged to join.  This new program doesn't work as well for me as some of the past ones I have tried.  One of the reasons why is because fruit is "free" of points and since I am a binge eater, I can eat 1,000 calories of it no problem.  Additionally, each week gets 49 bonus points which can be consumed as an option and since I see any bonus as an invite to binge, I sometimes eat 49 points mindlessly just because I feel I can.

Some days I would enjoy my favorite breakfast, an egg white sandwich and coffee: eggs whites prepared in real butter, a regular English muffin, a slice of real cheddar cheese, a slice of Canadian bacon, and coffee with cream and sugar.  This breakfast would be 15 WeightWatcher points or roughly half of my daily allotment of points even though it is less than 500 calories and I aim to eat 1,800 calories each day.  So, after breakfast, I would give up because I would have a client meeting where I knew there would be food, or because I would be going out to dinner with friends late in the evening.  I would quit midday.  The fear of going over my points would leave me anxiety ridden.  Calorie wise I could have made it work, but points wise, it would have been tougher.  Again, I was playing complete and utter mind games and I was self sabotaging.

I know WeightWatchers is a great program and works for many people.  But for me, a chronic binge eater with a much more severe addiction than I initially thought...well, it is very triggering for my own personal issues. Odd, because counting calories (what has been working for me) is often really really triggering for some.  You just never know what will work for you unless you try it!

So, I am calorie tracking and I am currently at a 16 pound loss.  The weight loss is slowing down, but I am not rushing it.  I really want to learn about my food addiction and what I need to do for me.  I don't care it is takes 4 years to get the weight off.  There is no rush, I am simply NOT going to ever gain the weight again.

I want food to be my friend.  Not my best friend, just a friend.  I want to enjoy food, look forward to it from time to time, and enjoy the peace and fulfillment it can provide for me.  Not there yet, but everyday food is becoming less of an enemy.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Not Meant To Be AND Meant To Be

Not Meant To Be: Crush and I did not make it to Memphis.  OY!  SO BUMMED!  I am going through a work issue that is a bit out of my control and I needed to stay in town to help my dear client (and someone I personally adore) with it.  Sometimes Too much of the time, my job requires me to put my own personal life totally aside in order to help people with their personal lives.  It is beyond consuming and one of the reasons I will be hanging up my hat doing this job full-time (I will always do it part-time as a part of me is very connected to it) for a while.  Excited to rejoin the corporate world.  I want my balance back and I have recently learned just how badly I need to work on defining my personal boundaries.

Crush was crushed about Memphis, but he totally understood and supports me.  He knows that I gave him a ton of my focus and time this past year (which led to a few of my firings....going out of town often was the direct culprit) and that I need to finish work here with an absolute bang!  Then, all of a sudden, there was a very unexpected death in his family and he wouldn't have been able to go himself anyway.  It was a sign.  I just don't think Memphis is meant to be for us for now.....we have tried twice and haven't made it, so we decided that Savannah is the next city that we will visit together for a quick weekend trip.  Bonus that it is driving distance from my new apartment.

Meant To Be: I will be in my new city in less than 30 days.  My awesome parents are joining me on my drive cross country, as retirees they have the time and I am honored to have them for the first leg of my journey.  Crush told me that he wants to speak to my Dad in person once we arrive and is hoping that they can spend some time together alone for lunch, made it clear that it would just be the two of them.  Eeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkk!  I know my boyfriend and I know that he is very inclusive......I have my suspicions that he is going to ask my Dad for my hand in marriage like the good ole' Southern boy he is and I AM OVER THE MOON EXCITED!  Cross those fingers!

In an odd coincidence, my very first weekend down South, the same weekend I believe my hand may be given to Crush forever......

Awful Ex-Boyfriend will be married for the second time just slightly North of the US border.

Life goes on. 

Friday, August 16, 2013

Too Young To Die

I don't know how much you follow celebrity news, but I am all about it.

The other day, in the midst of a super packed afternoon, Sissy texted me:

"Gia from the Bachelor/Bachelor Pad is dead.  Suicide.  Hung herself.  Shocked.  Have you not read about it yet?"

Since, I was with clients in "on" mode, I didn't really process it.  But, I felt immediately sad.  Really sad.  Odd, since I only knew Gia from TV.

Why Gia?

She seemed so beautiful, put together, and confidant.

When I finally returned home around midnight, before I even washed my face or brushed my teeth (which I never did because I fell asleep on my computer which is a TERRIBLE habit), I raced online and Googled Gia Allemand.  Several stories came up about her tragic death, her rocky relationship with her pro-athlete boyfriend (who found her), and how sad/shocked/surprised/devastated her Bachelor "family" (what Chris Harrison calls people who have been on the show) are via their condolence tweets.

I then remembered why I felt a connection with Gia.  A person I have never met.  A lady I would be intimidated of, if I ever saw her out at a bar in real life.  I recalled seeing Gia in an interview where she referenced how she had been bullied most of her life.  She was known to call out bullying, especially on Twitter. 

When I saw that interview a few years back (I believe it was during Bachelor Pad publicity because I was living at home already with my folks), I thought to myself...who would bully Gia?

You see, I was bullied most of my childhood and it has altered not only my self perception, but it has led to my abusive relationship with food.  Lately, in therapy, I am working through my own experience with bullying and it sucks.  Every time I talk about it,  I feel like I have been beaten by several 1,000 pound sand bags, but it does define me and I can't help it.

I have briefly mentioned it before, but I was bullied, tormented even, because of my weight all through grade school and in college too (though college wasn't as severe in comparison, just fat jokes and fat nicknames made at my expense).  Even if the post I linked to seems strong, now that Crush's love has washed over me and I know he is here to stay, I do still have a bit of work to do in therapy to not focus on the negative.   Being in my childhood home for the last 2 years has actually been a blessing.  It has triggered some bad habits (like the emotional eating), but they have been simmering for far to long anyway, it was time to confront all of my pain and move on.

The worst bullying I ever withstood was in junior high when the boys called me "Ogre" relentlessly.

30 boys (including the best looking and most popular ones) 1 year older than me began the harassment 3 days into my 6th grade year.  3 days after I started a new school.  I was 5'5" and 135 pounds.  I recently found a diary entry that referenced these stats, calling myself a "fat pig."  An entry that was a plan on how to hide from these boys at school, which included eating my lunch in the library and bathroom and even hiding under a desk in my honors math class (which included 6-7 graders....I wrote that I was going to pretend to tie my shoes under my desk between the period bells, so Todd and Rusty wouldn't be able to call me "Ogre"  before the teacher arrived to protect me).

Sadly, nothing worked, those boys found me everywhere I went.  Even when the teachers were around, they whispered "Ogre" hot and close in my ear.  They slid print-outs of farm animals with OGRE scribbled at the top in marker between the slats of my locker.  They pushed and spit on me, too.

I was actually considered popular before this behavior started.  Once in a while, I still have a nightmare that they are circling me and I wake up crying.  20 years after the experience occurred.

Clearly, I am not over this quite yet.

To this day, there is something about a 12-13 year old boy that unnerves me a bit, I don't like their company much which is silly considering that I have many little baby boys in my life that will become pre-teens before I know, I better get used to this age group.   I also don't like groups of men my own age either....I fear there is always a risk for boys or men to gang-up instantly as I was rarely ever bullied by just 1 boy at a time, it was always a few of them working in these little tag teams.

Thinking about is probably why I have always favored much older men....Crush being 3 years older than me (so, nothing) is the youngest person I have ever dated seriously.  Even Awful was 6 years older than me.  And for a while, I was dating 20+ years older in my early 20's as it felt safer.  I have since learned, men are men, regardless of age.

During junior high, I changed because of the bullying.  I became funny, snarky, and mean myself.  I made fun of other kids, including a few mentally disabled ones.  This still haunts me.   I started emotionally eating.  My grades slipped.  I began riding my bike to the public library to research suicide, anorexia, and drug abuse.  I wanted something to help me escape.  I hated myself.

I contemplated suicide.  I love roller coasters.  I remember thinking that I could die by simply "forgetting" to close my harness on an innocent trip to Six Flags where I had season tickets every summer until I was 15.  I could die experiencing one of my few joys at the time of my death....going upside on a thrill ride.

But, then I would think about the inevitable distress and panic I would cause Sissy and my dad (who would be at Six Flags with me ) and how Sissy would maybe have to ID my dead body and how much she too loves roller I would feel terrible in advance if she would never want to go back on one because her little sister died tragically on Batman: The Ride.

But.....I would briefly hesitate pulling my harness down for years.

As I untangle this mess in therapy, I realize that I carried so much pain from these few years of torture, that I lost the last years of my childhood. The bullying showed me 11 years into my short life, that the world can be a cruel cruel place.  I became an extremely defensive person.  I became afraid of confrontation.  I am still trying to break these bad coping mechanisms.

I used to associate the boys who bullied me as "too good for me."  I would reason that they were  popular, richer, smarter, cooler, and better than me, so that is why they hate me and make fun of me.  None of this is true.  I was and I still am a wonderful person.  There was no rhyme or reason for the bullying.  I still ponder why I was targeted...there were bigger and taller girls than me in my grade.

As I get ready to restart my life at 32, I realize that some of me is still afraid of myself.  In my new place, I can be something special.  I am told I am beautiful, smart, accomplished, and funny.  I do think I am these things some of the time.  Somewhere deep in my heart, I believe them....BUT, well, there is still a little voice that screams "OGRE" once in a while.  That wants to argue with a stranger about my "sharp wit, good looks, or beautiful smile" because I don't think I deserve these compliments, because I am not worthy of an easy and good life like other people have.  Self-sabotage at it's finest.

I have seriously contemplated suicide twice in my life.  Once, I was in high school, the summer before college. I threw a massive party at my parents house when they were out of town, got in major trouble when they returned and they kicked me out for weeks.  At the same time, I was dumped by my "friends" because I couldn't go to a concert I said I would go to because I didn't have the money....I was sleeping in a motel between crashing with friends and going through all of my summer work paychecks. I snuck into my parents house one afternoon when I knew everyone was away and I stole a bottle of my mom's painkillers (from a major surgery) with the intent to take the entire bottle.  The night I planned to do it, I made up with my "friends" (who I cut off as soon as I left for college) and decided to wait until I was 25 and see where I was in my life before I ended it.

The last time I decided to kill myself was almost 2 years ago, the morning I broke up with Awful.  I woke up that day set that I would cancel our plans to work on his boat, wait for him to leave, get one of his guns from his gun safe, and shoot myself.  After I feigned sick and he left, on my way down to the basement to retrieve a weapon, I slipped and almost fell down his stairs (which were very steep and slippery) and heard the voice of my deceased grandfather in my head scream, "GRANDDAUGHTER (what he used to call me)....NO! NO! NO!!!!!!!  IT ISN'T YOUR TIME! GET OUT!  GO HOME! GO HOME!!!!!!!!!"

I called my parents hysterically and they came and saved me.  I began therapy the next day.  I am super afraid of guns.

Gia was found by her boyfriend.  They lived together, just like I did with Awful.  I remember in my planning, I wanted Awful to find me.  I was going to write a note...."This is what you get for playing with my emotions and lying to me for over 2 years.  Fuck yourself.  I hope this haunts you for the rest of your life."

I am still afraid of myself sometimes.  That I will break down again for some reason in the future and I will fantasize about the end.  Though I wish it wasn't true, my own self is often my worst enemy.

So, the point I am trying to make after my novel length post, is that no one knows what Gia was feeling or living.  No one knows the pain and torture she may have endured in her own life because of bullying.  How her thinking was altered because of her own experience.  She was dealing with a lifetime of her pain, not just a few fights with her current boyfriend as some tabloids are reporting.

Life is a domino effect.

A person that just meets me, does not see a chubby 11 year old.  They don't know that I cannot watch "Revenge of the Nerds" because there is a fraternity brother named Ogre.

Gia was living her own life and decided for whatever reason that it wasn't worth living anymore.

What must she have been thinking before she took her final breaths?

Gia Allemand, rest in peace.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Row Row Row My Boat

I hope everyone had an excellent weekend!

I will be back to blogging with a vengeance soon, I am busy busy wrapping up things around here and getting ready to move in 5 weeks!  WEEKS!

I have some posts ready to go to POST as soon as I leave this little big city behind and let me tell you that I have been waiting months to get a few things off of my chest, so they are coming....I look forward to the relief I will have when I can get it ALL out.  Bonus, that they are juicy and entertaining (and personally mortifying) reads.

I wanted to share something that even I cannot believe I tried....the rowing machine at the gym*.  For years, I just looked at it as something that I couldn't do and walked past those rowers and never gave trying one a chance.  The other day when I was so bored of all of the other cardio equipment I typically use and was contemplating leaving the gym after 2 minutes (no exaggeration) on the treadmill, I scanned the machines and my eyes met the rower and I thought..."what the hell?!" and I hopped on and well.........

And....well, I love it!

I love it so much that I have blisters on my hands.  Even though I have been working a ton, I have found the precious time to get my tush to the gym very early in the morning and on the rower just because I think it is really fun, relaxing, methodical, and I can feel the burn.

I recently decided that the elliptical just isn't enough of a workout the way I like to do it.  Bouncing around while watching E! is fun, but not enough of a burn.  I don't see any results.  I don't feel sore.  I need the burn.

So, the rower.  Well, all I can say is that my core is getting the workout that is has always craved and that I am too lazy to put it through if it doesn't involve cardio.  I love the motion of it and the feeling that I am actually covering ground.  It is really a neat sensation if you have never tried it.

I love cardio and I hate strength training. I cannot wait to be in my new little apartment BY MYSELF (WHOOOOT!) so I can lift my 5 pound weights in my underwear while I watch is the way I finally got toned arms and thighs (after years of wishing for them and NOT ever doing anything about it!) 4 years ago, so I am willing to bet that the same recipe should work again....Real Housewives of any season is perfect to zone at to while I pump my iron.

I love the rower so much that I am researching taking lessons in my new city.  Perhaps even joining a rowing club if I find that my love translates to the open waters and not just the 2nd floor cardio circuit at my gym...we shall see.  I haven't been this excited about exercise since I fell in love with my old (circa 5 years ago) Spinning studio (my new one down South is just as good, if not better!) and I love feeling like exercise is something I LIKE to do and NOT something I HAVE to do.

I am proud that these days, I am trying new things that I always thought were off limits for no good reason.  Just because my mind once landed on "NO!" about certain experiences, doesn't mean that I can't try them...the results have been very positive thus far.

*(I apologize for writing an ENTIRE post about a rower....I mean, this is how my OBSESSION with certain things do begin...when I cannot stop thinking about something.  Currently, it is a rower.  WAY better than a Big Mac.  Progress. I do promise that you may love it, if you haven't tried it...if I can do it, ANYONE can!)

Friday, August 9, 2013

Nothing Changes IF Nothing Changes

This (blog title) is a great quote going around and one that a best friend shared with me a few days ago.

I love it.

I have been thinking about it constantly.

Simple, really.  Change brings change.

I have started to try new things.  Especially when it comes to eating and exercise.

I am down 14.2 pounds now and if I could be down 20 by the time I move (less than 6 weeks!), well, I would be really excited, but regardless, I know it will come.  I am in a good place with the eating.  I am making changes.  I have enjoyed salads the last several times I have gone out to eat and when I do splurge (like last night when I had a farewell supper with a dear college friend), I took home most of my main course (after we enjoyed appetizers) to have for lunch.  The little things are starting to add up.  I am factoring in my needs versus my wants when it comes to food.  I satisfy my cravings, but I create limits, too.  I need to in order to avoid the dreaded binge monster.

I become super lazy with my eating when my depression rolls in. I have always known what I need to do to help the scale go down, but I cannot always do it.

This time, combined with the eating therapy, I can feel my mind-frame changing.  I am able to bounce back after a bad eating day, a binge, or a shitty workout.  One meal at a time.  I am not waiting for "Monday" to begin my diet because I am not on a diet.   I have shifted my inner voice.  This is a life change for me, not a phase.

Exercise-wise, I am shaking it up and the only negative is my increased appetite! I don't mind the gym, but I tend to not push myself enough unless I take a class and the classes at my current gym SUCK.  SUCK HARD.  They start late, the instructors are always substitutes that have no idea what is going on, the regulars feel like they are entitled to "their spots" in the studio, the workouts aren't serious or well thought out....this annoys me so much, especially when it comes to Spinning which is totally dependant on the my gym, the instructors play the same playlist from 2003 week after week....WHY?!  It is too stupid for words, so I avoid the needless exercise class drama.  It just so happens that I LOVE the gym AND the classes at my new gym in my new city (WHOOT!)....the Spinning studio there is so epic, I dream about it.....I am such a nerd, but it is just that good and I have attended 10 classes there thus far (during my visits) and WOW is all I can say.  

In an effort to create change, I have started to mix some running into my existing elliptical, spin bike, and weight training routine.  I started running (6.0 speed on the treadmill) 1 mile at a time and now I am up to 2.5 miles without stopping.  My goal is to be able to do 4 miles in a row without stopping by the time I move.  It is what I used to do in high school a couple days a week for my cardio workout.  It makes me feel good to know that I can still do the same things (like jog and ride a bike!) I once did over half a lifetime ago.  Since I have started running, my clothes are getting looser and I even zipped up a dress this week that I haven't been able to wear in over 10 months.  Makes me feel good.

I will be back after the weekend with posts (working this weekend!) and hope everyone had a great week!



Tuesday, August 6, 2013


I used to be a bragger.  Correction.  I used to be a liar.

Exaggerations just fell out of my mouth.  I seriously did not know what I was talking about half the time.

Since I was drunk half the time, perhaps it was the vodka talking.

Sorry to anyone on the receiving end of my nonsense.

A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine was in town from the West coast and we chatted a bit about the idea of bragging over our spicy California rolls (YUM!).

My friend is in a serious relationship with a wonderful and established man (I finally met him after lunch and he is just as dreamy and sweet as I thought he would be) and they happen to have a very nice life together.

My friend lives in a fabulous city, takes amazing trips,  goes to the opera, the symphony, and out to fancy suppers.  Her man friend owns a few properties, including a vacation home and they enjoy their weekends in the country when they aren't working too hard at a very large and well known company.

My friend mentioned that sometimes it is difficult to catch up with old friends (she was back in town for a brief visit) without sounding braggy, but I totally understand what she is saying.  I do not consider her stories to be bragging, it just happens to be what is going on currently in her life.  The truth.  Her reality.

Before you throw rocks and sticks at me, I will admit, that my life with Crush is also a bit braggy.  He comes from a very established place and there are no shortage of fancy parties, nice suppers, and multiple residents to visit.  But, if he lived in a box, I would still date him. I didn't know about all this until a few months after we started dating and he was very protective of his life and what he shared with me initially.  I was already in love with him by the time I found out about any spoils.  He holds his cards close.

When I meet up with certain people, I find myself censoring my stories.  Instead of explaining that I was at a fancy party, I may just leave huge chunks out.  The old me would have poured on and on about it, but with some age has come some rather recent humility.  And, I am still working on it.  I notice that I can brag without realizing it because old habits die hard.

Being humble is still something I am getting the hang of.  Especially in our society where I do feel like bragging is part of the territory if you are active on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.  It is hard to not feel compelled to share the best parts of your life and leave out the less glamorous ones.

I am also a lot more private now, so I don't even like sharing ALL of the details of my life like I used to in daily conversations.  That is what blogging is for!!!!

Since I am hyper paranoid about what other people think of me, I worry about this sort of thing more than I should.  I worry about everything more than I should......

I know I can come across as obnoxious as a veil for my insecurity.  I get this.

I don't want to be know as Miss Braggy Pants in my new town.  Where I am going being humble is expected regardless of the situation.

I am practicing.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Battle of The Binge

I binged badly yesterday for my first time since I started my eating therapy.  I have had little slip-ups, but this binge was reminiscent of the big ugly ones of the past.

The silver lining here is that I know why I did it.

I have been working non-stop for the last month or so, averaging 4-5 hours sleep tops.  I now have a nice little break and Sunday after I was done working....I had this moment of relief pass over me (and my tired feet)....I don't have to set the alarm tomorrow, I can just chill out and lay down for the first time in a long time.

I then started thinking.

And let me tell you, I am better busy than with nothing to do because I over-think everything and give myself anxiety without any good reason.

I mulled over Awful's pending marriage and the stupidity of our past relationship.

I got caught in a web of doubt that Crush will not do right by me and makes things official after I move across the country for him (even though I know he will).

I fretted over the fact that I do not have a new job in my new city.

I started beating myself up that I have been trying to lose weight for 18 months and I have only lost 13.5 pounds when other people (like I started to compare myself to contestants on Extreme Weight Loss and Biggest Loser) can do it so easily (even though it must be torture losing 10 pounds in a week!).

I then went to the fridge and pantry to ease my feelings.

I ate and ate and ate.  I must have consumed 5,000 calories.

I fell asleep feeling so full, sobbing.  The guilt I felt over hurting my body was a new emotion.

In the past I always soothed myself post binge by thinking, "Tomorrow is a new day."

Last night, I told myself, "You deserve better than this.  You are better than this."

Today, I am about to go to the gym and face the scale at WeightWatchers.  Yes, I binged epically before my assigned weigh-in day.  I will not hide from the numbers.  I did it to myself and I need to face the consequences of my decision.

I took a little step in the wrong direction.  I am not perfect.  I am not instantly cured.

I am trying and I am living and I will beat this.

It may not be today, but I will battle the binge eventually.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Successes & Stumbles


It has been busy around here, but things are moving right along....


1.  I am down 13.5 pounds.  I am taking it 5 pounds at a time.  Little by little and it is not as daunting as I thought it would be.  I am eating everything I want in moderation, I am exercising often (4-5 times a week), and I am using the tools I have been learning in therapy to manage my binge eating as best as I can.  Major improvement.  

2.  My new website is almost done.  EXCITED.  Just a few more tweaks, but then it will be up.

3.  Work-wise, things have been going well, even though I decided that everyone is a bit crazy.  That being said, I have surprised myself lately because I have been able to separate my work and the client based drama that negatively influences my work.  This year, all of my failures were mostly derived by a family member who was stirring the pot and then I would take the fall.  I have taught myself to stay above and out of the drama and overall, the results have been positive. Yes, I still get blamed for things that are not my fault and yes, there are still opinions that I did or didn't do something that I should or shouldn't have done, but I defer to my client and ONLY my client. Btw, I cannot wait to share more about my almost former job here....there are stories, stories, stories!!!!!


1.  One of my challenges for my eating therapy was to eat a trigger food and see what happens...the thought process behind it is that no food is bad or scary and that with the right steps forward everything can be enjoyed.  Basically, taking the power away from the food.  I tried with Wheat Thins this week, a MAJOR trigger food for me.  I binged (nothing major, but definitely mindless eating) both times after I ate some.  It was a force that came over me....a routine.  I did what my body felt like it should do and binge it was.  This is something I am to try once a month and I can't wait for the day when those stupid crackers lose.

2.  I realized that I need to be nicer to Crush.  Like way nicer.  I am sometimes an absolute jerk to him.  He deserves and responds well to kindness and I know this and then I still act like an asshole.  Crush and I tell each other, I told him Awful was engaged the minute after I found out.  I admitted that I was a bit sad, but happy for him.  Crush's ex-fiance is in a very serious relationship and we have heard, that she will be engaged soon, too.  I do believe that after a super serious relationship that doesn't work out, often people marry their next boyfriend or girlfriend.  I am living it!  Crush was a bit emotional about his ex a few weeks ago, for the same reasons I was about Awful, the end of an era.  On Monday, mere hours after I found out about Awful's pending wedding, I received a beautiful bouquet from my boyfriend with a lovely note, "Anyone that doesn't want to marry you is a fool.  His loss, my gain.  Love you so and get down here already!" - Crush.  Swoon.

3.  I did a bad bad thing.  I know you all will throw sticks at me and I know I shouldn't have done it, but I did it, so I am going to own it.  I have an impulse control, what I say, how I used to drink.  I know it.  I do discuss it in therapy because it's clearly a problem.....but, well, I emailed Awful with my congratulations.  YELL AT ME IF YOU NEED TO.  But, well, the truth is that I am pretty hard to find these days and I know Awful has been asking about me.  All of a sudden, I realized that it isn't because he still  has feelings for me, it is because he knows that he hurt me and now he is getting married so soon, less than a year after he met his lady.  I think he met his soulmate, too.  They seem super happy. Do I think he learned from our relationship?  I do.  But, I also think he is still a huge asshole.  It just seems like his new fiance is so different than me and his ex-wife, so I see that as a positive.  Change. I still feel bad for new fiance as dealing with Awful is a FULL TIME JOB! I think Awful was asking about me to make sure I am okay.  I went to therapy on Tuesday and I spent too much of my appointment chatting about him.  I came to the realization that I am indeed happy for him and I am also going to be careful about who I share myself with and what news I decide to share about my life (not here, in real life).   I can't trust anything anyone says about Awful to me and vice-versa.  Not, because the source is faulty, because no one really knows what exactly transpired between us and how long and drawn out and emotional the breakup was.   I didn't want there to be any hearsay about how I reacted about his engagement (which was chill) and I wanted him to know that I am fine and that I am happy for him (because I am, but mostly I am relieved!).  The door will never open back up on this and I know I seem insane and I know I could have been stronger, but I am sick of other people controlling my message.  He hasn't emailed back and I know he won't.  It was closure.  DONE.  I know you all must be sick about hearing about Awful and I apologize.  Last few drips of information.  If I was a thoughts would be"SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOUR EX-BOYFRIEND ALREADY CRAZY PANTS!!!!!!".....noted!

Have a great week and I will back in full detail after the weekend....lots of work, but next week slows down!!!!