...bALLeR!...

I shopped with my sis, S yesterday. We haven't done that in FOREVER and we had so much fun! I love to shop...and I don't need ANY encouragement to buy things...but TODAY she encouraged me...and so the story unfolds...

I met my sis, S for lunch and shopping. We started in Nordstrom as I had already looked at Dillard's and Macy's and found NOTHING I liked for my friend, W's wedding. First we looked around the shoe dept at all the FABULOUS shoes. We milled around holding up shoes to show each other. Now the funny part about this is you could not find 2 more different people when it comes to shoes than me and my sis, S. She goes for classic, flat shoes...Uggs... She likes shoes, but she doesn't LOVE them...not like I do. Me...I find the highest, most over the top shoes I can and I form an emotional attachment to them...I fall in LOVE with them. Suddenly...it happened...I looked up and saw them...the most BEAUTIFUL pair of red heels...and the most AMAZING boots I have EVER seen on one table!ME: "OMG! S! Those shoes are amazing! They have to be by my favorite shoe designer EVER! I KNOW those are Donald Pliner shoes and boots!

S: pause...blank look like...is she for real?!?

ME: rushing over to snatch them up..."I KNEW IT!!! They ARE Donald Pliner! I bet they are ridiculously expensive!"
turning the boot over..."695 DOLLARS!!! But they are the most fabulous boots ever! Gosh, I wish I was rich!" I put them down...carefully..."Well, we better do what we came here to do! Let's go upstairs and look at dresses!"

S: "OK..."

Somehow...we ended up in the designer jeans dept. It was like a magnetic force field sucked us right in! Now...I LOVE jeans...they are practically all I wear...but I've NEVER been one to spend a lot of money on them...not because I can't afford it...but because it seemed like a waste. We looked at all the jeans and seemed to spend most of our time where they had the 7 For All Mankind jeans. I figured...What the heck! I'll try some on for fun! That's a bad strategy girls! It's like saying I'll do crack just this once for fun...next thing you know you've got a "habit" that costs you thousands of dollars. So I tried on the first pair...pretty cute...I could probably live without em. I tried on the next pair...Oh, no. Those didn't work because they had no stretch and I have to have stretch or jeans won't go over my legs because they are too big in relation to the size of my waist. Then...I did it...I tried a pair on...it was love. But I was like, I can't spend $200.00 on ONE PAIR OF JEANS!!!

I took them off and tried on the dresses I had to choose from. That was weird. Nothing was fitting well. Finally I tried on a dress that my sis and I agreed was "THE ONE". But there they were...still hanging up...the jeans. "I'll just try them one ONE MORE time.", I told my sis. I tried to talk myself out of them...but they has the cutest silver "7"s on the pockets...and they felt SO good...

ME: "I can't buy these because then ANY time I wear a cheaper pair of jeans...."

S: "Those will be in your closet...crying?!?"

ME: "NO...well, YES...well, NO...it's just that I'll always be wanting to wear these...everyday!"

S: "I would too."

ME: "Crap! I have the money from working, but...I'm scared...200 DOLLARS?!?!..."

S; "You deserve it! GO FOR IT Missy! (My 2 sisters and I call each other "Missy"...I don't know why...it's not any of our names!) BUY EM!"

ME: "Are you sure they look okay? What about my butt? Do they look like they are squeezing my legs?..."

S: "I hate you." (said in the most loving way of course)

ME: "Okay!"...(pause)..."I'm gonna do it!"

We gathered up my stuff and hurried out to see what the crazy sorority girl looked like that we kept hearing make stupid comments and went to the register. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach...was I really about to do this?!?! "Okay..." I told myself..."Pull it together! You want these! You have the money! RELAX!" I nonchalantly laid 2 pairs of jeans and a dress on the counter. "That will be 461 dollars." I heard the clerk say. HOLY S***!!! I remained unfazed on the outside and went to get my card out.

ME: "Oh CRAP! I left my AMEX at home and my Mastercard is in the car from when I got Sonic for the kids last night!"

(For a split second, I thought I had a way out...but then I realized that I DIDN'T want "out". I get up early...I stress over doing the best job I can for my clients...I clean up after everyone...I WORK HARD, DANG IT!!! I'M GETTIN THESE JEANS!!!")

ME: "Excuse me, Can I just write you a check since I don't have my cards on me? Will that be a problem to write a check for that much?"

CLERK: "Uhhh. Sure . No problem at all.

(with a crazy, stunned look on her face)

"WE ARE NORDSTROM'S! (said proudly as if she were repeating the pledge of allegiance) We take EVERYTHING!

The funniest things was that when I asked about writing a check and the girl looked a little shocked...I got out pen and my checkbook and looked over at my sister who said in the funniest, loud way..."BALLA! (baller)". Jeez, I felt like a "baller"...if an almost 40 yr old Mom can even call herself that! I wrote out the check...feeling sick...and exhilarated...and happy all at the same time...probably much the same feeling as a person gets the first time they try drugs. At first it's uncomfortable...scary even...and then...it just feels GOOD. And when I roll outta town this week...with my new jeans on my butt...that's what I'm gonna think..."Balla!"

...Now I gotta figure out a way to get those boots! ;)

..."tHeSe aRe a fEw oF mY fAvoRiTe tHiNgS"...

...A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS (in NO particular order)...




----------------------------------------------------------------------
~SHOES!!!
specifically:
-my tall "croc embossed" boots (I can't wait till it's cold enough to wear em again"
price = $120.00
-my black Donald Pliner boots (He makes AMAZING shoes...that I can't afford)
price = $300.00 (the most expensive shoes I own)
-any super high, cute wedges (like the new ones that I just got on sale at Dillard's last week...they are COMPLETELY impractical being that they are pink and yellow and green plaid with a 4 inch wedge...but OH SO CUTE!)
price= normally $79.00...on clearance for $19.00!!!
-pointy toed, high heels that make me look super tall
PRICE = $20.00 and up~going out feeling HOT in my heels
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~JEANS (I can NEVER have too many!!! I am thinking about splurging on some Seven For All Mankind for the fall...but it's hard to drop that kinda cash on jeans.)
PRICE=anywhere from $30.00 to $300.00 depending on the brand~Knowing my butt looks GREAT in my jeans
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~my MAC (17 inch widescreen MacBook Pro)
PRICE=$2,799...(worth every penny)~Reconnecting with friends and family...BLOGGING...watching GYM JONES or CROSSFIT videos on my MAC
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~ACCESSORIES! (purses...jewelry...belts...THESE THINGS can make the difference in looking good, and looking GREAT! I have hooks ALL OVER my closet to hang belts and purses on, which is why my brother called me a "HOOKER" the day he came to hang them up. Gotta a love big brothers!)
PRICE = from $10.00 on up
~Feeling PERECTLY PUT TOGETHER...
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~FOOD from my favorite Mexican Restaurant MARIANO'S
PRICE = approx $20.00~LUNCH with a friend...good conversation...laughter
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~Good running shoes
PRICE = approx $100.00~a PERFECT run (one with my friend W or one where the temperature is just right and I feel like I could run without stopping forever!)
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~Playing DOMINOES (esp "Mexican Train")
PRICE = $10.00~Spending time with my FAMILY
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~Going to the GYM
PRICE = $20.00 - $60.00 a month depending on the gym~Feeling STRONG and UNSTOPPABLE when I'm faster than than "the boys" at the gym (which doesn't happen too often)
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

~My CHILDREN
PRICE = 9 months of pregnancy...excrutiating pain and $5,000 dollars for delivery...lots of hard work, tears, and laughter...$35.00 a month for school lunch...$70.00 a month for swim team...$150.00 for soccer (uniform/cost to play/etc)...back to school clothes $500.00...PTA membership $6.00 a yr...birthday parties $$$$$...Nanny approx $20,000 a yr...college $$$thousands...weddings $$$ thousands...etc etc etc~all of the notes taped to my mirror that say "I love you, Mom!"...endless kisses and hugs...pride when they score a goal, finish a race, or do something kind...
$PRICELESS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

*I had the week from HELL...I can't point to one particular thing that made it so...but I've felt down...ALOT. After compiling this list, I realize how lucky I am...and how "rich" my life is. So to the VERY few people that read this...I recommend that you do the same...it's amazing how much better you'll feel! I'm goin to shop and eat lunch!

...yOu kNoW yOu aRe geTTiNg oLd wHeN...

Today, I'm a mess. I look like what I call "the ass end of hard times" (excuse my french). My hair is stringy. My face looks dull and my belly is "poochy" from too many pancakes at IHOP. I'm sleepy and cranky and I can't seem to take a joke. My 12 year old daughter once called me a "FUN-SUCKER", because she said I "suck the fun out of everything". I was highly offended and I would normally disagree...but I think the title is fitting today. It makes me feel old. Actually, with my 39th birthday fast approaching...I feel like I AM getting old...and if any of these things that I am about to describe apply to you...chances are...you are getting old too!

YOU KNOW YOU ARE GETTING OLD WHEN...

*You hear the song "1985" by Bowling for Soup and you think..."WOW! Is that song about ME?"

*You can't tell how old people are...all you know is they ALL look younger than you.


*You lie on a bed...head practically hanging upside down...and look into a mirror to see if you look better with gravity pulling your face back.

*You say words like "grody".

*You can say the lines of movies like Sixteen Candles" ("Whats a happenin, Hot Stuff!")..."St. Elmo's Fire" (KIRBY! You'll freeze to death!")..."Say Anything" ("I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen.") or "Breakfast Club" ("You mess with the bull, you'll get the horns!") right along with the characters...AND you still laugh...every time.

*You complain of knee and hip pain...and your joints sound like Rice Krispies...snap! crackle! pop!...when you move too quickly or you bend down to pick something up off the floor.

*You are asked if you're eligible for the "SENIOR CITIZEN DISCOUNT" at Ross on a Tuesday by a moron behind the counter with a double digit I.Q....I mean seriously! I don't look a day over 40! (j/k...I'm 38 and that IS a TRUE story...one that nearly caused me to commit an assault!)

*You can't watch a movie on DVD past 9 pm without falling asleep.

*You are too TIRED to go to the mall (that's just sad!).

The fact is...most people say I look younger than my age...and I work hard to maintain ANY semblance of my youth. Somedays, I feel young...vibrant...strong. Others...like today...I feel old. I'm gonna go watch "Weird Science" or somethin.

...gO oR gEt oFF tHe pOt!...

Do you ever have days where you can't seem to decide what to do...what you like...who you want to do what with...etc etc etc? Do you have people like this in your life? You never know what to expect. They are hot and cold...but never in between. This is where certain expressions like...COOK OR GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!...JUST DO IT!...GO OR GET OFF THE POT!...come to mind.I really like consistency. I like to KNOW what will happen. I like to KNOW what I can expect out of my friends and family. This is NOT to say I like to always do the SAME THING or that I don't want to shake things up from time to time...it just means that I don't like to be left wondering. I don't like expecting a person to react or behave a certain way and then have them do the complete opposite. It's like living in The Twilight Zone where nothing is as it should be...and as you can probably guess...The Twilight Zone ALWAYS scared me.So, if you are in my life and you love me or even care about me in the least...PROVE IT!...SHOW IT!...BE THERE!...or LEAVE.

...gUiTaR hErO wiDoW...

I have been married for 17 years to a great guy. He loves me (not the easiest feat most of the time) and I love him. In some ways, we are similar...but in others...we are complete opposites. Just like every couple that has been together for a long time...we've gone through times of ease and happiness and love...and we have stuck it out through some tough times and differing opinions. As much as I'd like to tell you that we are as passionate as we were in college...when we started dating...I have to admit that 3 kids...a demanding work schedule (his)...and many years together have changed a few things...like the way we spend our nights and weekends.Some men go out with their friends. They drink...they play poker...they camp and hunt with their buddies. My husband has never been one to do those things. If he isn't at work...he's at home with me or with the kids...not because I demand or require that...because he chooses to. In fact, I have encouraged him many times to go do things HE wants to do. Some women probably worry about what their husbands are doing when they are gone...they may wonder where their husbands are at 2 AM on a Friday night. I NEVER wonder. I know. He's standing in the family room with a tiny plastic guitar across his chest rockin out to GUITAR HERO. At times in the past...I have thought that it looks a little ridiculous...this uber smart, serious, 6 ft 5in man...concentrating on hitting the right notes on primary colored plastic buttons...trying to beat Slash in a face off with guitar notes.Sometimes I refer to myself as a "GUITAR HERO widow". Sometimes I wonder..."Aren't I sexy enough to compete with a plastic guitar and some cheesy graphics?" I remind myself that he loves me...and that really it is just a refreshing break from his highly stressful, ultra serious job as a partner at an investment firm. I’m happy that he has a way to release the stress and I know that he enjoys it, so I am okay with him playing GUITAR HERO...even if it does mean I'm sleeping alone most Fridays...

..."tHiS iS wHy i'M hOt"...

I SO want to be "HOT"!!!...I always have...sadly I never really felt truly "HOT"...especially when I was in high school and college. This will come as a shock to those that know me and put up with my self loathing on a daily basis...HOWEVER...I feel the hottest at almost 39 than I have in my life. You ask why...

Maybe it's because I'm in the best physical shape of my life. Is my body all I wish it could be??? No, but it's close. I'm not embarrassed to be naked...pretty good for a middle aged Mom. Maybe it's because I am financially able to take good care of myself...nails...pedicures...tanning...teeth whitening...cute clothes. Maybe it's all a matter of comparison...A LOT of Moms my age...well, they wear sweats or ill fitting clothing...they give everything to their kids at the expense of their health and happiness...they get lazy and figure there's no need for makeup or high heels when you stay home. Not me! I am a good Mom and a loving wife, but I take care of myself. I have found that when I do this, I am happier and in turn MY FAMILY IS HAPPIER TOO! I don't care if my only outings are to Target or Chick Fil A or the soccer fields. I dress like I'll be seen by all...makeup...tight jeans...heels. So what if I get a little mud on my heels as they sink into thew soccer field...I feel good when I look good. I freshen my makeup and I avoid pony tails. Does this mean that I think I'm perfect...or more beautiful than other women? No, not at all...I have no specials skills or qualities...ANYONE can do what I do.
The older I get...the more I realize that being HOT is NOT about perfection or a beautiful face. It's not about being a perfect size 2. It's not about a face without wrinkles. Being HOT is being the best possible version of yourself. It's about finding jeans that make your butt look good...size 2 and perky...or size 20 and..not so perky. Being HOT is about confidence...it's a state of mind. Remember the "hot cheerleader" in high school?...the one that was not really pretty...or skinny...or nice...still EVERYONE thought she was HOT. I see an ex cheerleader from my high school around town and she's nothing special...yet she still prances around...nose in the air...thinkin she's "hot s*** on a shingle". It's not because she looks better that people put her on a pedestal...then and now...it's because she carries herself as such and people buy it.

It was and is all about how we see ourselves. I personally get embarrassed when a strange man compliments me in a store. It happens from time to time and I just want to crawl under a rock when it happens. WHY?!? I feel guilty when other women's husbands look my way. I'm ashamed when other women...ones in sweats and pony tails...glare at me like I'm somehow doing something to THEM when I walk past...tight jeans...cute top...high heels...and hair styled. I need to be done with that. From now on, I need to hold my head high and when I face these "HATERS"...I will sing a little song in my head..."THIS IS WHY I'M HOT. THIS IS WHY I'M HOT. THIS IS WHY...THIS IS WHY...THIS IS WHY I'M HOT. I'M HOT CUZ I'M FLY! YOU AIN'T CUZ YOU NOT! THIS IS WHY...THIS IS WHY...THIS IS WHY I'M HOT!"

...wHaT dO YOU beLieVe???...

.........What do YOU believe?...think?...love?.........

...iNviSibLe...

Do you ever feel invisible? Sometimes I do. At times, I can be physically surrounded by people and feel all alone. Those days are not fun. They envelope me...and the feelings that accompany them seem to seep into aspects of my life that are unrelated. Today I was alone most of the day. It really got to me during lunch. I sat and watched groups and couples eat...and I... was all alone. Then I went to a high end furniture store. I walked in expecting the whole, "Hi Maam. Is there anything I can help you find?" pitch. I was dressed nice...having a good hair day...glossy lips...everything just so. I heard the sales associates ask other shoppers that...but not me. I was in there and passed 4 different workers. Not ONE said a word to me. I caught myself spiraling into a depression. Suddenly, I felt like I have no friends...like nobody loves me...like a failure. I let every insecurity...every fear overtake me. I wandered around...miserable...and then I looked at my watch. I realized that school was out, so I went home to be with my kids. In their eyes, I am important ...special ...beautiful. I had a hard day, but as soon as I felt my daughter's arms around my waist...hugging me...looking up at me with love...suddenly I did not feel invisible anymore.

...LiVe LiFe aNd LaUgH tHe sTrEss aWaY...

Everyone feels the effects of stress at times. I know I do. I haven't worked...at a job I get paid for that is...in 11 years. I quit to be a full time Mom when my oldest daughter was 1 and a half. That's what I've done...I've been a Mom...and since my kids are all in school now...I've been a "lady of leisure" at times. I got up, got kids off to school, went to workout...for however long I chose (usually a couple of hours), came home and blogged while I ate a post workout snack, took a shower, and then lunched with my Mom or sister and shopped...or got my nails done...or my hair...or whatever I wanted to do until later in the afternoon when it was time to get back to being...Mom.

My brain was turning to mush. I NEEDED to do something. The thing is...I don't NEED to work...and I don't NEED the money...what I NEED is something of my own...somewhere that I need to be. I NEEDED to get out of my easy, lazy, comfort zone and stretch myself...explore the possibilities. So, at the suggestion of some friends...I headed down the path to becoming a personal trainer. Working out is what I love. There have been days in my life where it was the only thing I looked forward to...the only thing that made me happy. It's been a tough transition for me to go from trainEE to trainER. Not because I don't know form or exercises...because I struggle with confidence. I come off like I'm secure...but it's a mask to cover the way I REALLY feel most of the time. I went to school...I took a test...I spent a lot of time watching and learning...I went to a specialized certification...and now I'm working. I don't have many clients so I don't work many hours...just a few hours...a few days a week. Still at times I feel stress. I wonder if I'm doing a good job. I worry that my kids will need me when I'm gone. Sometimes...when I have to be at the gym at 6 A.M to cover a class....I feel exhausted. I wonder if I should go back to the days of long walks through the mall with shopping bags in both hands and pedicures...the days when I had nowhere to be...and all day to get there. I'd feel less stress, but I know I wouldn't be happy.

If I could create a perfect little world...one that ran by MY rules...I make sure that I never have to feel stressed...but I don't live in a perfect world. I know that I cannot escape worry...or fatigue...or stress. There is no magic pill. And although, stress will creep into my life many more times before my life is over...there is something that can help. I saw this commercial the other night and it made me think. It's really a retirement commercial, but the sound of that baby laughing helped me realize that there is a cure of sorts. It may not be permanent, but it will almost always help take the stress or sadness or frustration away. It's laughter.

It has been said that "People don't stop laughing and having fun because they get old...they get old because they stop laughing and having fun!" Who knows if that is true...but what do I have to lose by trying. So the next time my day sucks...the next time I trip...or lose my keys...or embarrass myself...or just screw up in general...maybe I'll try laughing. It may not fix the problem, but it sure can't make things worse either. Just think how amazing life could be if something as simple as tearing paper made us laugh like that baby...

...aM i stRoNg eNoUgH?...

If you stood outside a mall and asked 100 people to say the first word that comes to mind when you say the word “strong”, I bet you would hear the word muscle and bodybuilder more than a few times. Most of us equate strength with big biceps…with moving something heavy from one place to another. There are hundreds of supplements, pills, and shakes on the market to help people that are searching for strength. Some people go to great lengths to become stronger…even if it destroys their body or even takes their life in the process.

I know it is a great source of frustration for me at times in the gym. I want to press more…to squat more…lift more weight than I do. It’s easy to feel weak when you spend so much time working out…with mostly men. I know at times, I get really down on myself when I don’t do as well as I hope to do in the gym. It’s hard to keep it all in perspective. It’s hard to not let my failure there…creep into the rest of my life. I’m always comparing…wondering…”Am I strong enough?”

I recently read an article that helped me remember that strength is more than bulging biceps and 6 pack abs. In an article called “The Iron”, Henry Rollins talks about how lifting weights changed his life…taught him…made him stronger...in more ways than just the obvious. I loved every word he had to say, but one paragraph in particular forever changed the way I think about strength.He said, “Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.”

Sure, I still want to increase the amount I can lift. I will always be striving for more…but I realized that I am not as weak as I once thought. In fact, I am much stronger than some of the very people that I compare myself to. I’m far from perfect. I get mad and I say things I don’t mean. I do not always build others up as I should…but I AM a kind person. I DO care. I am very sensitive about the way other people feel. I feel terrible if I think that I have hurt another person. I protect others…even to my own detriment at times.

So forget the fact that my legs did not cooperate with my heart today in the gym. Forget the fact that my one rep max on a dead lift is a warm up for some men. Beauty fades…bodies age…and muscles shrink…but kindness and sensitivity are lasting. So am I strong enough? IN THE WAYS THAT COUNT I AM!

..."iS cHiVaLrY dEaD?!?"...

It's happened ever since I can remember...every time a man has been rude or does not hold the door for us or another woman and I'm with my mom...she always says, "Well, I guess chivalry is dead!" I've always thought it was so funny when she says that...not funny ha ha...funny as in odd...funny in that it never seems like such a big deal...until YOU are the one with a door in your face. One minute you are carefree...smiling...the next thing you know...your nose is pressed against the glass and you are left asking yourself..."Did that REALLY just happen?"

Last week my daughter and I were out furniture shopping for her room that we are redecorating. It was hot. We were tired. It's hard work shopping...especially on a budget! So we had already had lunch a few hours earlier and we were feeling quite parched. Being the divas that we are (at times)...we decided that it was crucial that we stop for a drink at the nearest 7-11. I paid NO attention to the neighborhood, pulled off the highway, and made my way into the parking lot. Right away I'm thinking..."Not the best location"...there was an auto parts store next to it with lots of strange men fixing their cars right there in their parking space. I looked around. Hmmmm...not the best clientele...but we'll just bop in, grab a drink, and "blow this popsicle stand"! So I parked as close to the door as I could and we made our way into the 7-11...ALL eyes on US! We got to the door and I swung it open with confidence. I figured it's like being in the wild...you don't want to let the creatures "smell your fear". I held the door for my sweet girl to walk through. As I opened it, I even said, "Cmon sweetie! Let's get you something to drink." Before I coud finish the sentence...BAM!...some strange man on a cell phone pushes past my daughter to come out before she can go in! Did I mention that he literally PUSHED her aside?!? OH NO YOU DIDN"T!!!

I went into full fledged Mama Bear...Man Hater mode! I stopped and asked him in a loud, authoritative voice, "What is wrong with you?" He "woke up" from whatever world he was occupying and dribbled some lame apology...funny how forceful a "man" he was before...now he's been reduced to a stammering boy with one question! Before he could fully "spit it out"...I continued with..."YOU should be holding the door for US! At the very LEAST...you should stand back and let us come in or use the other door!" I couldn't stop. I said, "...And how dare you physically push my daughter aside so that you can go out first!?!" I finished with the line EVERY Mom uses at some point in her life..."You should be ashamed of yourself!" He was still mumbling apologies as he walked...quickly...to his car. SIGH. I straightened my blouse and walked into that convenience store...teetering on my high heels...Jackie O glasses still in place...and asked...no one in particular..."Is chivalry dead?". Funny...NO ONE was brave enough to answer...

...hOw cAn i bE sUrE?...

How do I know that a person really cares? How can I be sure? This is how I KNOW I have a friend that cares. These things make me sure...

My friend brings out the best in me. I am a klutz. I am always late. My friend taught me balance...both physical balance and balance in my personal life. My friend embraces all the qualities that make me who I am...and lets me know that even still...I AM okay...and that there will be someone waiting for me when I arrive...late...as usual...that will still be glad to see me and greet me with a smile. I do everything in the most awkward fashion and I lose my temper...a lot. My friend trained me to be "less awkward" (in the gym at least) and even made me good at some of my endeavors there. My friend is my "outlet" when I am mad...or sad for that matter...a safe haven where I can vent and share my disappointments without harsh judgement. Most of the time, I say the wrong thing...most of the time and I doubt myself and my abilities. My friend treats me like I am good...and therefore I am. My friend tells me that I am capable...and so I go and do. My friend tells me that I am strong...and through him I became so. My friend knows a lot, but still asks my advice...this tells me that I have something to give...that I am smarter than I thought. My friend tells me that I can...and this gives me courage. These things tell me that I have a true friend...someone that cares.

I know that my friend has to go. It makes me sad, but I know that our paths crossed for a purpose. I know it was meant to be. Anyone can find a person to spend time with...to laugh with...to have fun with...but finding a person that touches your life...that leaves you better than they found you...is a gift from God. In this, I find joy.

...wHy iS iT sO hArD tO LeT gO?...

"WHY CAN'T WE GET ALL THE PEOPLE TOGETHER IN THE WORLD THAT WE REALLY LIKE AND THEN JUST STAY TOGETHER? I GUESS THAT WOULDN'T WORK. SOMEONE WOULD LEAVE. SOMEONE ALWAYS LEAVES. THEN WE WOULD HAVE TO SAY GOOD BYE. I HATE GOOD BYES. I KNOW WHAT I NEED. I NEED MORE HELLOS." ~Charles M. Schulz



These are the thoughts in my mind that cause the pain in my heart...

Why can't I say goodbye without a second thought? Why is it that I tell myself that I'm okay...and I AM...for a LONG time...and then suddenly...one day...I'm NOT anymore? Why do I try so hard to hold on when I know letting go is necessary...inevitable? I knew this was coming. I thought I was okay. I was not sad. What happened?

I'll tell you what happened...

We laughed. We talked. We ran. He gave me advice and I returned the favor. We were serious and we joked. We raced. I told him my fears and he shared his worries. What happened was friendship in the truest form. And THAT...is what makes it hard to anticipate a good bye...again.

...LiFe LeSSoNs fRoM sAnD DoLLaRs...

My last post was about my wonderful morning on the beach with my son...and how much he taught me with his search for sea shells. It seems that the lessons were not over. I talked about finding sand dollars and how surprised I was by their "natural" appearance. The night before we left the beach, my husband and I were packing...not just our clothes...but beach chairs and sand toys and gathering all the miscellaneous items strewn around the villa. As I picked up the bag of broken shells, I saw the sand dollars that my son and I found that morning on the beach. They looked so gross. I had done some research online and gathered instructions on how to take the ugly, hairy, brown sand dollars and make them perfect and white, but I wondered if it was worth all the effort. I also knew that I would have to put them in a ziploc bag to bring them home and dreaded the smell that would accumulate inside. Still, I promised my son that we would make them beautiful when we got home. I could not look into those brown eyes and tell him that I had left them...so I dropped them in the bag and sealed the top. When we arrived home from vacation, I took them out of the plastic bag and choked down the urge to gag as the aroma of dead fish followed. I held my nose and started the process of beautifying our sand dollars. I put a mixture of water and bleach in a bowl and dropped them in. The change was amazing to watch. Immediately...the hairy sand dollars were smooth and the brown and green began to fade. I repeated the process...knowing that if I dipped them in bleach too many times...they would become weak and break apart. Two of them disintegrated immediately. One that was especially small and gross was beautiful...perfect. The other two...one small and one large...were still slightly discolored, but mostly white. I was amazed by the beauty that was underneath all that dirt and hair. I immediately thought about how glad I was that I took the time to bring them home and clean them...glad that I endured the smell...glad that I have a little boy that still sees the good...the beauty...the potential in everything and everyone around him and that holds me to the same standard.

My amazement turned into the thought that many times, people are a lot like those sand dollars. Some people are easy to like. They are desirable...strong...beautiful...like the clean smooth sand dollars that made it through the process. There are other people that we are not naturally drawn to. They have limitations and are weak...like the sand dollars that broke when I placed them in the bleach. And still others may repulse us...they are ugly and have a rough exterior. We wonder...much like I wondered about those dirty sand dollars the night before we left...if they are worth the discomfort and time it will take to see who they REALLY are underneath all that.

I learned that people and things are not always what them seem at first glance. If we don't take the time or we are repulsed by appearances, we may never experience the joy and beauty waiting to be found. I also learned that most of my joy came from working to improve the appearance of those sand dollars. Those sand dollars mean something to me because I took the time to go through the process of cleaning them MYSELF...and through that process...and the miraculous end result...I learned some important life lessons.

...beAutY iS iN tHe eYe oF tHe beHoLdeR...

"BEAUTY IS NO QUALITY IN THINGS THEMSELVES: IT EXISTS MERELY IN THE MIND WHICH CONTEMPLATES THEM." -David Hume

There are moments in life that only happen once...the first time you hold your baby in your arms...your first kiss...the first time you witness something truly spectacular...with your own eyes. For some people...that "something spectacular" is one of the wonders of the world or a beautiful sunset...for others...the simplest of things can seem spectacular. I witnessed this firsthand this morning.

My son spent hours collecting pieces of broken shells yesterday. I kept telling him that those were not shells...that they were just broken pieces...but he did not care. He continued to collect them like treasures. My husband and daughters were going on an early morning horse ride that my son is too young to go on, so I told him that he and I would go out on the beach early...at sunrise...because that's when you find REAL treasures on the beach. I got him up at 6:30 A.M. and we headed out close to 7. He was excited. In fact, he was bugging me to go the whole time I was brushing my teeth. We got our pails...and shovels...and set out on our treasure hunt.

The beach is an amazing place early. It is like a completely different world...not ANYTHING like it is during the day. The pelicans are diving for their morning breakfast...men are fishing...it's quiet and peaceful...everything looks new and refreshed. We saw lots of cool stuff. We saw a man fishing that caught a stingray. My son got to see it flutter and see the big barb on it's tail. Another man caught a small shark and let J watch him take the hook out and throw it back out in the ocean. Then, there was a big shell that we came upon...the shell of a horseshoe crab. A lady told him that they are one of the oldest creatures...that they date back to prehistoric times. He touched the shell and we continued on. An older woman showed us how to find sand dollars coming up out of the sand. We got 4 small ones and 1 medium sized one. I was excited, but also surprised how dirty and hairy and smelly they are when you find them. I expected them to be smooth and white and beautiful. I didn't know until I got back to the villa and did some research that they have to be cleaned and preserved.
I had so much fun this morning on the beach, but still...with all we saw...and all the shells we came upon...intact...my son continued to collect broken pieces of shells. I caught myself feeling frustrated...not outwardly...but I couldn't help but wonder why he kept picking up what seemed like trash to me. As we walked along and he found another piece of shell, he would tell me how beautiful it was...how special...how lucky he was to find it. No matter how many broken shells he found...no matter how similar they were...he found something unique...beautiful about each and every one.

I had my own "spectacular moment" and I learned an important lesson this morning on the beach. I will cherish the things that I learned at the feet of my child. I have to wonder how many times in my life I have walked past things that seem broken...ugly...worthless. I wonder how much joy and how much beauty that I have overlooked in my quest for perfection. My 6 yr old taught me to stop overlooking the beauty that is at my feet everyday. He does not see the shells as they are...broken. He sees them as they could be...as they once were. There is beauty all around me that I never see.

...i uNdeRsTaNd...

“YOUR WORST DAYS ARE NEVER SO BAD THAT YOU ARE BEYOND THE REACH OF GOD'S GRACE, AND YOUR BEST DAYS ARE NEVER SO GOOD THAT YOU'RE BEYOND THE NEED OF GOD'S GRACE.”
--------------------------Anonymous--------------------------

Everyone has those days. Some of us just have more than others. When I say "those days", I'm referring to days where it seems no matter how hard you try...you can't do anything right...no matter how hard you work...it isn't hard enough...no matter how nice you try to be...the favor is not returned...and then in the end when all else fails, and you decide to ignore it...to keep putting one foot in front of the other...and to try and stay positive or to hold back the tears...it becomes impossible to do so and you suffer yet another failure. "YOU'RE A LOSER!" Those are the words I hear in my head on days like that...days like today.

I'm trying so hard to do something. It's really difficult for me to put myself out there...to step outside of my comfort zone...to make mistakes and know there are more to come, but I know that growth and change can only come if I continue to try...no matter how hard it may seem. When I try and I fail in these times or when I let other people down in the process...it is indescribable...crushing even. I've NEVER wished for fame or fortune...I've NEVER expected special treatment...I just want to feel loved...like I'm worth the air I breathe. It sounds dramatic...negative...exaggerated. A friend once said that I am the most negative person he's ever met. I couldn't defend myself...I know it is true. Even still...he compliments me and reminds me that "I CAN..." It builds me up. That's why I call him a friend.

So many times...things are not as they appear...or seem to be. Anyone who saw me today...standing...laughing...cheering...talking probably thought I was feeling confident...comfortable. I wasn't. I'm a pretty good actress when I need to be. I was scared and unsure...nervous...but I pushed forward. I thought that I had done it...that I had been successful to a certain degree. I was aware of my shortcomings, but still I tried to believe that I did well,...and then I was made aware. It was like a Peanuts cartoon when an adult speaks. The criticism was clear...all the other words were background noise...unrecognizable. I was holding on to the hope that in the end, I would hear "good job"...that amongst all the "wrongs" there was a "right"...at least ONE. No such luck...not today.

I was told that I don't understand. If only he knew. I don't need details to understand. I understand. He is the one that does not understand. He would regret his words if he knew my secrets...if he knew how I truly DO...understand.

...eMbrAciNg LiFe...

I try to control everything...I worry too much...I always look behind me because I'm too unsure to look ahead...I doubt my abilities...I hang on every word. This is not living. I need to stop covering my eyes and avoiding the roller coaster ride we call life. I need to throw my hands up and allow myself to feel the wind on my face and the thrill in my belly. I need to enjoy life.

...LeArNeD HeLpLeSsNesS...

I'm not an animal rights activist. I'm not an animal lover...or even an animal liker for that matter. I don't hate animals. I don't hurt animals. I just don't prefer to have a bunch of pets. I don't want to sleep with animals at night or have them sit in my lap. I'm perfectly fine with fur...I eat meat...and I love leather and snakeskin. I think it's safe to say I won't be joining a PETA protest anytime soon...so it goes without saying that I don't read much about "cruelty to animals". I didn't know how circus elephants are "trained" until last week. When I heard the process by which they are trained...it made me kinda sad for the elephants...but it also helped put some things in my life into perspective.

Obviously, elephants are very powerful animals...and much stronger than humans. They have the power to escape from the circus...it's just that they don't know it. The elephants are caught when they are very young and they are chained to strong stakes that are driven deep in the ground. They struggle and fight to free themselves but the chain is too strong. Eventually, the elephant realizes that it can't break free and it quits trying. From that day on, the elephant believes that it cannot free itself as soon as it feels any resistance at all. In fact, a circus elephant can be tied to a small flimsy stake with a thin piece if rope and it will not try to escape because it has been conditioned to believe that it is powerless. This is called "learned helplessness".

Elephants are not the only creatures that can be conditioned this way. Humans can as well. If a person is told how worthless they are...over and over and over again...soon they will believe that they are. If people tell you that "you can't"...or shouldn't...enough times...eventually you won't even try. I wonder if those elephants can ever be "untrained". I wonder if it's possible for them to realize their strength and their ability to go where they want to go. My guess would be that it isn't possible after a certain amount of time.

I've always felt like I can't...like I will fail. So many times I've behaved like a circus elephant. I have the power to tear free and do whatever I want to do, but I rarely try because I worry that I'll fail. As soon as I face resistance...I feel helpless. I worry that I have been conditioned to fail..to lose...to give up. Thinking about this makes me sad. I am so much better than I use to be...than I thought I could ever be. My friend gave me a gift. He brought things out in me that surprised me...glimpses of strength...moments of feeling like a winner. That is priceless. I think that just like the elephant...I will always have some small form of "learned helplessness" that holds me back at times. I can't change what has happened to me, but I CAN try hard to build other people up...to in a sense free them from the heavy chains before they learn to feel helpless. I especially want my kids to grow up feeling like their potential is limitless. I want them to realize the power that they each have within themselves. I want to teach them to fight against any resistance, because I don't ever want them to give up or feel helpless...like me.

...tHe bEsT oF Me...

My friend once said, "My music is the soundtrack of my life." I've often thought that it would be so cool to have music play in the background...as I go through my day...just like in the movies. Music is so powerful...it can enlighten...it can enrage...it can calm...it can motivate...it can bring out a whole range of emotions...and it can bring the most complicated situation into focus.

I like all kinds of music and I listen to music a lot. Everyday while I put on make up and do my hair...everyday when I do my cardio...everyday in the car...I listen to music. I'm going through some inner turmoil and confusion. I feel drained and I almost feel like I've forgotten who I am in my quest to become more. I was on the phone with my husband the other day and I said, "I just need a break...I just need to loosen the noose...". I immediately thought of a line in a song that I like to listen to when I workout..."The Best Of You" by The Foo Fighters. This song is truly the soundtrack of how I feel right now.

Once...a long time ago...when I was working out...my friend told me to jump up, grab the pull up bar, get my chin over, and hang with my legs straight for as long as I could. I did...and I struggled and winced and squirmed to keep my chin above the bar as soon as it got uncomfortable. Another trainer and his client were watching me. When I fell from the bar and got ready to try again, the other trainer said, "Don't screw up your face and wiggle your legs. When you do that, you take the energy that you need to hold yourself up and transfer it somewhere else." What a metaphor for life. I'm taking the energy that I NEED...to improve myself...and I'm using it to struggle in the attempt to "hang on"...when if I would let the pain and fear and frustration go...I would have what I need "to keep my chin up" and hang on a little longer. I've been giving away the best of me...

TODAY I'M TAKING IT BACK.

...mEnTaL pAraLySiS...

I remember the day...not so long ago...that my trainer tried to teach me an exercise...an Olympic lift...the Push Jerk. It's a complicated...advanced movement...one that is difficult to teach and even more difficult to learn. I stood there...feeling extreme pressure. I knew people were watching...and I had been given the instructions...over and over and over. I had failed...many times...and I was afraid. There are so many movements involved that my mind was racing...dip...drive up...open the hips...small jump...not too big...fall under the bar...full extension of the arms. I just stood there...mind racing...staring at myself in the mirror...no words...no movement. It seemed like forever and I knew I needed to go...to try again...to move. Suddenly, I almost felt as though I had stepped outside myself. I was thinking, "Why am I just standing here? Why can't I move?" I could see my trainer's face reflected in the mirror...puzzled look...dead silence. Eventually I did try...again...only to fail...again.

As I sat down to journal my training progress for the day...frustrated...I replayed those events in my mind. I tried to make sense of what had happened. I have never been frozen like that before. It literally felt like I was paralyzed...and in retrospect...I have come to realize that I WAS...paralyzed. I was thinking so hard and I was so scared...that I suffered from mental paralysis. I also realized that this was not the first time that this had happened...it was just the first time I had become aware of it.

I started reading the book, "A Return To Love" by Marianne Williamson. Yesterday, I came across a passage that reminded me of this experience and helped give me some better understanding of why this had happened to me. This is what it said...

"A lot of us know we have what it takes-the looks, the education, the talent, the credentials. But in certain areas, we're paralyzed. We're not stopped by something on the outside, but by something on the inside. Our oppression is internal. The government isn't holding us back, or hunger or poverty. We're not afraid we'll get sent to Siberia. We're just afraid, period. Our fear is free floating. We're afraid this isn't the right relationship or we're afraid it is. We're afraid they won't like us, or we're afraid they will. We're afraid of failure or we're afraid of success. We're afraid of dying young or we're afraid of growing old. We're more afraid of life than we are of death."

I was recently given an opportunity...a chance to do something. I have stressed out...cried...and been excited by the possibilities that it could bring. I have known that it won't be easy...but I have also known that it is the right thing to do. It's just that...I was paralyzed...with fear.

It's hard to step into the dark...not knowing what I'll encounter...but to reach the light at the end of the tunnel...I know that I have to walk through that dark tunnel. I'm really scared, but I'm not paralyzed anymore. After the encouragement of a dear friend...I took the first step. It's dark and I'm nervous and I don't know what to expect...but I am trying my best to focus on the light and move towards it. I am fighting the inner voices that tell me that I can't...that say "What will others think?". I know that as long as I can take the smallest steps...as long as I can "wiggle my toes"...I'm not paralyzed...and that gives me hope.

...iT tAkEs PraCtiCe NOT tO qUiT...

"IN EVERY ENDEAVOR, PEOPLE WHO CONCENTRATE AND REFUSE TO QUIT BECOME THE ELITE." -MARK TWIGHT

Quitting is natural. When I have faced a trial that doesn't seem to resolve itself quickly enough...my first instinct...is to quit. When I feel pain or suffer defeat...my natural response is to quit. I've been a quitter for most of my life. If I was scared...I quit. If I was hurt...I quit. If things got too tough..I quit.

My daughter's swim team coach once said, "After each race, your child should go to their coach before they go to you. The coach will tell your child something positive...something that needs to be corrected...and end with another positive comment." He continued to say, "We are not criticizing your child to make them feel bad, but to help correct their mistakes. We do this because I believe that a mistake that is not corrected, becomes a habit and a habit is harder to correct than a mistake." I think quitting was a habit for me. I know I never intended to become a quitter...but I was...for a long time.

I'm not a quitter anymore. I'm not a quitter because I practice not quitting everyday. They say that "Practice makes perfect." Just as a pianist does not play perfectly the first time they sit at a piano...I did not learn to endure the very moment that I made the decision to stop being a quitter. I don't remember one specific decision. I just know that little by little...I've learned that I can endure...I don't NEED to quit.

Everyday I practice. I practice NOT quitting. When I am sad and I want to climb in bed...when I want to quit my life...I get up and put one foot in front of the other. When I am scared...when I want to quit stepping outside of my comfort zone...I do what I can to face my fears. When someone disappoints me or hurts me...when I want to quit feeling used and close myself off to protect my feelings and my heart...I try to reach out and open up...one more time. When I workout and I feel pain...when I want to quit pushing and stop...I take one more step and go for one more minute.

I'm NOT perfect. Sometimes, I still quit...but I'm getting better. Each time I persevere, I am stronger. Each time I practice not quitting...I become less of a quitter.

...aT hOmE iN mY hEaRt...

My friend and I saw each other the other day for the first time in many months. I had looked forward to seeing him with nervous anticipation. I was nervous about what it would be like after so much time had passed. I was afraid that we would be different...that conversation would be a struggle. I couldn't have been more wrong!

From the moment I saw him across the room...sitting at a table in our favorite Mexican restaurant...I felt comfortable. We talked. We laughed. It was as if no time had passed. We were able to pick up where we left off. That really did something for my heart and soul. As I've said before...I don't have many friends. I may be nice or polite or even friendly towards people...but I only let a few "special" people into my life...my heart. I have missed my friend like crazy. Something reminds me of him almost everyday...a song...a trail...an exercise...many things trigger memories. He's gone and won't be back...I settled that with myself a long time ago. He's happy where he's at...so I will put MY feelings aside and be happy for him too.

I don't know if I'm really dumb...or if I'm getting really old...or if I'm just very perceptive...but I seem to be learning more and more about life these days. After worrying about and anticipating our meeting for no reason...after having a lunch that was heaven to me (good food and one of my favorite people to share it with)...after driving away...still smiling 5 minutes down the highway...I realized that people may leave us physically, but if they are truly our friends...they never really go away because we keep them in our hearts.

When my friend called me a couple of months ago and said he was on his way "home" from Taiwan...I immediately thought that he was coming back...here...because I thought of THIS as home. When I realized that he was referring to a place very far away...a place he now calls home...I have to admit, it made me a little sad. I understood him staying there, but couldn't handle him calling it "home". The word home means a lot to me. Home is a familiar place...a place filled with people that know our stories...our history. Home is a place we can come to at the end of a long, hard day...for rest...a safe haven...a place to recover and renew. Home is a place where we can be our true selves. Our home is a place where we can rejoice when something good happens...we can sing in the shower...and jump for joy on the bed. The walls of our home keep our secrets. It is our sanctuary.

What I realized the other day, was that...when I am with my friend, my soul is relaxed and my heart is at home. His mailing address is not what matters. What matters...is that regardless of where he lives...or where he calls home...I'm secure knowing that a part of him is always here with me. If he wants to call Montana home...it's really okay...because he is always at home in my heart.

...like the night before Christmas...

There are certain times in everyone's life that are memorable...times that are universally memorable. Christmas...getting married...having a baby...the first day of school...these are a few that come to my mind when I think of memorable times. They are times of excitement... nervousness... happiness... and anticipation.

I'm not a patient person. I don't like to wait...and I'm not one for surprises. I like to know how and when things are going to go down...so that I can prepare...so that I can get rid of some of that dreaded anticipation. I hate the way my mind races...trying to figure out what will happen. I worry about the outcome. Will it be as great as my mind has built it up to be? Will Santa bring what I wanted? Will my baby be healthy? Will the other kids at school like me? Will I be happy? What will I do if I'm not?

I realized tonight...that ridiculously enough...not only do I try to plan every detail so that things go the way I think they should...I try to plan my reaction...in advance. The anticipation sucks...but as much as I dread it...the anticipation is part of what makes these times memorable...exciting...great.

Tonight feels kind of like the night before Christmas for me. I'm so excited. The day that I have been waiting for...for a month...is here. I'm so happy. I will get something that I have wanted...something that I had given up on. I'm so scared. If this is not as good as I hope it will be...I'm not sure how I will react. I'd like to say that I can't control it...que sera sera...that life will go on...that it doesn't matter...but I'm not so sure about that.

My friend...the one I have missed terribly since he left months ago...is here...in town. We are going to meet for lunch tomorrow at our favorite restaurant. I have been looking forward to tomorrow ALL WEEK! I can't wait to see him with my eyes. Sometimes, I almost feel like I am forgetting what he looks like. I can't wait to talk...to laugh...he ALWAYS makes me laugh.

Today I started to feel nervous...which I didn't expect. When we talk...when we are together...I am always comfortable. Unfortunately, the anticipation is starting to mess with my mind. I'm afraid we won't have anything to talk about. I'm afraid he is seeing me out of obligation..not desire...that he will be in a rush to get done and leave. I'm afraid that maybe he will have changed...maybe he won't think I'm so great anymore...that things will be awkward or not go well. I'm afraid that if things don't go well...that I will be sad...REALLY sad.

My mind plays tricks on me, but my heart is different. My heart reminds me that he is my friend...a true friend...one that is there NO MATTER WHAT. My heart remembers how happy I am when we spend time together...when we talk...when we laugh. My heart tells me not to worry...to enjoy the moment that I have waited for. It would be "easy" in a way to give up or brace myself for the worst, but I won't. I will be confident in my friendship. I will trust my friend. Tomorrow will be everything I am hoping for.

...lUcKy...

I've never considered myself lucky. I don't win contests. Opportunities don't just fall in my lap. I have to work for anything I get...I always have. I trip on cracks. I often say the wrong thing. I laugh at completely inappropriate times...times when I'm scared or nervous or when I am trying to avoid crying. It never fails...it rains and my umbrella turns inside out...getting me wet in spite of my effort to stay dry. I've always wanted to be lucky. When I was a little girl, I would sit in patches of clover...searching for a lucky four leaf clover...sometimes for hours. I never found one.

I don't get a chance to read much in my everyday life. If I'm sick or recovering...or if I'm on vacation...I'll read several books, but normally I don't take the time. Almost two months ago when I was laid up after surgery, I went through a week where I read 4 books. One book was a memoir written by the author of another novel I read years ago, Alice Sebold. She writes about her brutal rape and beating when she was a freshman in college and how it changed her life and her relationships as she struggled to deal with what happened to her. The title of her memoir is, "Lucky". It is titled as such because upon giving a description of the events and where they took place, the police told her that another girl had been killed and dismembered in the same place that she was attacked. They told her that in comparison...she was "lucky". It's an ironic title...a title that makes one stop and ask what it really means to be "lucky".

I started my marriage dirt poor. I cried every month when I had to pay the bills. We had one car...with no air conditioning. I got up at 4:30 AM to get ready to be at my job by 6AM at a convalescent home where I changed elderly people's diapers and fed them and sat with the ones that never got a visitor. We wore coats in our house in the winter because we couldn't afford to heat our tiny, old house. I watched other students...my same age...that were married and lived in nice apartments and that drove new cars that their parents paid for. I felt jealous...unlucky. It's been a long time since then. We are no longer dirt poor. We are very comfortable. Now I know that we were not unlucky. We appreciate what we have and where we came from, because we had to work hard to achieve success. Now I realize that we were lucky to have had the opportunity to become stronger and more grateful during the years we struggled to "make ends meet".

I've had to watch my weight my whole life. I'm not naturally thin. I always looked at "skinny" people and wondered why I couldn't be lucky like them. At one point, I weighed 200 lbs. I was miserable. I lost the weight. It was hard and it took me a long time. I had to fight for every pound I lost. I still fight...everyday...to maintain my weight loss. Now, I know that I am the lucky one, because I am in better shape. I am stronger, because I have to work to be thin. It's a conscious choice and only I can take credit for what I have become.

I have never been a "popular" kind of girl. I always had friends growing up, but I never had many...and most were guys. I've always felt insecure and socially inept. I am easily misunderstood. People that don't know me think I am a snob. I'm not. I am better now than ever, but I still have few friends and spend most of my time alone. I look at the groups of women together in restaurants during lunch...talking...laughing. I watch them from my table...alone. I think how lucky they are. I wish I wasn't alone. I feel unlucky. Then I get a phone call from a dear friend and my perspective changes. I may not have many friends, but I care so deeply for the few I have. They are not disposable...or one in a pool of many. Each one holds a place in my heart. Each one has made a difference in my life. That is worth more than a lunch date full of giggles and fake small talk. I am lucky to have a few true friends that I cherish.

This ironic title has helped me reevaluate what it means to be lucky. Life doesn't have to be easy. Friends don't have to be many. Money does not have to come free. I don't need to win contests. Raindrops eventually dry up. It's okay to struggle...to go without...to be left wanting. Sometimes, lucky is a state of mind...a choice. I am lucky, because I work to be so.