change is for other people

Long ago, in a far away land called my twenties, I embraced change. I loved it. I lived for it. Change is good! Change is how progress is made. Change is scary but even when you’re terrified, it is almost always for the better. Even when it doesn’t feel like it at first.

Now that I am 20ish years past my twenties..I embrace the idea of change but when I’m faced with the actuality of it…I am pulled into it kicking and screaming. Because with age comes responsibilities…which throws a big kink into my impulsive blind acceptance of change.

Now don’t get me wrong. I still embrace change…sorta. It just takes me longer to adjust to the idea. Old dog–new tricks, I guess. I understand more now why our grandparents were such creatures of habit. The older I get, the more I get it.

But I’m trying so hard to avoid the rut of sameness. Life without change is easy, but oh my god, is it boring!

So I’m embracing change a little bit at a time.  I’ve started meditating. It’s weird…as my brain really doesn’t shut off…but the app I’m using (headspace) tells me that meditating isn’t about shutting off your thoughts, it’s about being at ease with them. Well, that’s an interesting thought in and of itself.

I’ve been regularly exercising again for 2 weeks. I feel SO much better. My resting heart rate two weeks ago was 75-80. Today, it’s 65. My heart doesn’t have to work quite so hard to sit still…and that’s awesome.

I don’t know what small change I’ll be making next. But I do know, I’m not going to be the person who gets so stuck in a rut, that I refuse to change at all. Life is too short to live every day the same.

Embrace the change, bitches! And sparkle on!

 

 

sunrise, sunset, and everything in between

I’ve been walking again. Mostly in the mornings but I have managed a few evening/dusk walks as well. It’s interesting how different the soft light is between a sunrise and sunset. The same colors, but with varying ranges. More purples and pinks with light orange in the morning, in the evening, the pinks and purples are almost engulfed in flames as the sun sets.

It’s lovely to compare the differences and just enjoy the moments as they happen. I’ve been walking at Lakewood park a lot lately. The location is a compromise to spend more time with the Manpanion when he is able to join. We’re trying to eek out as much time together that this new normal allows. It’s often difficult, but we manage.  And when we are together, we take advantage of every moment because they are so limited these days.

Side note: being a full time caregiver to a loved one is not an easy task and it will affect you and your circle in ways you can’t anticipate. Communication and understanding are key to getting through it together.  And if you need a counselor to help you with it…then get thee to a counselor stat.  **rainbow stars** the more you know...

In other news, this is a big month for the baby birds! Rader starts his junior year at Hendrix next week. He’s going to be living in the Spanish house this year…which means he can only communicate in Spanish when inside the house! This full immersion will hopefully help him become fluent, especially if he studies abroad in Spain, as he intends to do. And also, Spanish is his minor, so he kinda needs to be able to speak it…

Ian will close on his house at the end of the month. I am so very proud of this kid. He works his butt off to support himself and this is a big step toward full-blown adulting. Not that I recommend adulting as a lifestyle, but sadly, we don’t really get much of a choice, do we?

Paisley girl has settled in and become a part of the family. Floyd is very jealous of all attention given to her, because Floyd is the only one who is allowed to get attention. Ruby pretty much doesn’t care as long as Paisley defers to her in everything. Which she does because everyone defers to the Queen. 20180803_071435.jpg

This is a common pose in our home….

20180812_191653.jpgas is this one….

By the way, there are no dogs allowed on the couch. Just in case you weren’t sure. I’m a stickler for the rules… Clearly.

Enjoy your day, Bitches! And sparkle on!

sorry I’ve been quiet this week

I just haven’t felt like blogging. I’ve been busy with life. Had food poisoning on Monday. Then an allergic reaction to SOMETHING UNKNOWN ( I did NOT swallow a spider in my sleep, STOP SAYING THAT!) on Tuesday and then hair day, then pedicures with Ian, then birthday cupcakes and wine with friends and now…it’s Friday.

So check out the horror that I woke up to in the mirror Tuesday morning:

kiss me again….

Yeah…um, I have luscious lips but….THIS IS OUT OF CONTROL. I did NOT get collagen and El Jefe did not smack me around (even though I never listen and I totally didn’t make him a sandwich) I just woke up with swolled-up lips. And face. I looked horrific. And as you can see, I had a sad all day.

I took 150 mgs of Benadryl throughout the day on Tuesday and finally, after a full day of being comatose, my lips look less like road kill and more like Angelina Jolie…

In fun news, I was told yesterday that my ass looked awesome in the jeans I will now never take off.

I ordered Turbo Fire videos from Beach Body (the same group that does Insanity and P90X). I need to add something to my bootycamp workouts (which are obviously working even though I haven’t lost any weight, see ass comment above for proof). And now to the reason I haven’t lost weight…

I’m eating too few calories…and then I give up and over eat for a few days, then I eat too few calories.

I cannot do that to myself anymore. I have to change my mindset. I have to fuel my body for the amount of exercising I have been doing. I cannot starve my body and not expect it to go into survival mode and refuse to give up its stored up energy. The 80s & 90s diet mentality that was drilled into my head as a kid is wrong. And I have to freaking retrain my brain.

Speaking of...this article... it choked me up. I was that girl. I was the athlete who was happy with her muscles and curves until her coach and her parents made her feel bad about herself. I was PUT on a diet at 13 years old. Who does that to a kid?

There are some things I miss about the 80s, but that is NOT one of them. BTW, I don’t blame my parents, they didn’t know any better. They did what they thought was right by their daughter. But I do blame my coaches and the doctors and my weightloss consultants who wrongly informed the world that a 13 year old curvy and muscular teen was unhealthy and needed to lose weight because of her body shape. Shame on them.

If you don’t click the link read the whole article (which you should because it really is well written and poignant), here is the last 2 paragraphs that really spoke to me.

I am sorry because many of you walked in healthy and walked out with disordered eating, disordered body image, and the feeling that you were a “failure.” None of you ever failed. Ever. I failed you. The weight loss company failed you.Our society is failing you.

Just eat food. Eat real food, be active, and live your life. Forget all the diet and weight loss nonsense. It’s really just that. Nonsense.

 

Eat real food, be active and live your life.

I’m going to add “and choose happiness” to that line and live it. Be good to yourself, bitches! Have a great weekend.

Careful Francis! You’re ruffling some vestments!

I’m not Catholic, but I was married into a Catholic family for almost 20 years so I have a pretty good grasp of Catholicism. Also, my kid goes to a catholic high school… I knew this pope was different when he took my name. We made a deal, you see. And so far, he’s holding up to his end of the bargain.

Back in June, he donned his tiara and said: ‘”The lord has redeemed all of us, not just Catholics, even the atheists,”

Which is awful cool of him. Honestly. You know that behind the scenes, the dudes in charge all had puckered assholes. WTF did he say? He can’t be telling everyone they can be redeemed! Hell! We’ve made several lifetimes of money based on guilt and exclusivity. So they had a meeting and he took it back. Sort of.

pope-francis-not-judging-gays-somewhat_topical-ecards-someecardsBut this week? Oh the pope made me proud he took my name. “If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge?”

“It’s funny, it’s just like politics,” Maher continued. “The hierarchy at the Vatican was like ‘What the fuck did this guy just say?’ You could almost see them preparing the poison. ‘Luckily we’ve got a spare pope!’” (said in reference to even atheists can be redeemed. But NOW that the Pope is damn near flying his rainbow flag high, I think that Maher’s statement is even more applicable!)

Here’s the thing. “Who am I to judge?” should just be EVERYONE’S tagline. I’m just proud this catholic political leader is the first of his kind to say it. Out loud.

Who are we to judge anyone?

We are human. We are fallible. We make mistakes. There may or may not be eternal damnation or celebration waiting for us if we fuck up too much then die. But, as humans, who are we to judge anyone? I thought that was the whole point of that one verse in the Bible…

Matthew 7: 1-5

1 Judge not, that ye be not judged.
2 For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.
3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?
4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?
5 Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.

Not that I care one way or the other what you do, because it’s not my business. But those who are all in a tizzy about Pope Francis sticking to the Bible he preaches…maybe they should revisit that very same bible…

RAPID TOPIC CHANGE

Oh my bootay hurts! In Operation Bootylicious news, yesterday I walked a total of 4.5 miles. It was a good day, but damn my butt muscles are sore! It wasn’t too terribly long ago that I was walking 4-5 miles a day, 5 days a week. Whew. I’ve got a ways to go before I’m back to that. But I’m well on my way to success.  I love the way my clothes are fitting me, so I just gotta keep plugging along.

Metaphorically throwing away the scale has made a difference in my attitude.

If it’s not raining at lunch, I’ll be doing my daily walk with Marissa. If it is…well, I’ll just take that as a sign from the Bootay Gods that I needed a day of rest.

Tonight I have supper club with my girls. I can’t wait! I’m cooking the main dish: Shrimp Primavera. And it’s gonna be EFFING AWESOME.

fuck. yeah.

hahaha.

Have a happy Twofer Tuesday, Bitches!

 

One of those weeks

well, it has been one of those weeks. I woke up happy and in a good place every day, and by the end of the day, I was drained of all things good.

Happiness comes from within…right? So I took today off to get happy again. I’m going to walk 500 a few miles and then have lunch with my girls. And all will be right in the world. Maybe El Jefe and I can catch a movie this afternoon.

Storms are headed this way today, and I’m looking forward to them. I love nature’s hissy fits! Even the scary ones are fun. Weather patterns have always fascinated me. I probably should have been a storm chaser. Or maybe just a weather girl…

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have a great weekend, bitches! And don’t let the mean girls get you down! Life is too short to worry about what other people think of you.

to scale or not to scale, that is the question.

I have decided NOT to scale anymore.

Fuck you, scales. You’re a Liar McLiarpants and I don’t like liars.

tumblr_m7oay3FSlX1rn13nao1_500Seriously? I know muscle weighs more than fat. I know I’m muscular and tend to develop quickly when working out…which is why I’m using low weights/high reps. Not that I’m afraid of bulking up…I’m not. I WANT to build muscle. I need to increase my metabolism and I know I am because I’m waking up starving to death in the mornings.

But my scales are an asshole. Complete and total asshole.

So I’ve decided to stop weighing. Because it does nothing but depress me. Especially since I’ve spent the last 3 weeks doing nothing but journaling my food/calories and working out like a boss and eating and drinking right…and then I weigh and it tells me I’ve gained 4 more pounds.

Go home scales, you’re drunk.

Do you know how hard not weighing is going to be for me?

scale-photoI know that weighing goes back to my dreaded high school years when I kept being “put” on a diet. You know, because being 5’6 with hips and weighing 140 lbs was considered fat in the 80s. They weren’t big fans of the Big Butt, So What school of thought back then.

Anyway, I was expected to weigh in at least once a week. Unfortunately, I start getting weirdly competitive with myself and start weighing daily…I tell myself it’s to keep track of my progress, so I can catch myself gaining again. The problem with that is, I start to obsess. And then I get pissed off when I KNOW I’m doing everything right and the scale refuses to acknowledge my hard work.

I’m going to hide them. Actually, I’m going to give them to El Jefe and tell him to hide them. Somewhere I’ll never look. Probably a good spot would be where we store the dusting supplies, since I never dust.

Fuck you, Scales. I’m so over you. We’re breaking up. I hear Taylor Swift may be looking for a new relationship. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll write a song about you.

And to end on a happy note, here’s the gratuitous cat picture of the day. Big Baby: He’s such a big baby.

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#RWA13 I miss y’all!

Here are some pics of the Ghosts of RWA Conferences Past. Me and Maria Geraci in order: Dallas 04, Atlanta 06, Dallas 07

Mel_Maria Dallas

Mel_Maria.ATL 06

07RWA

Then here’s a pic of us in Orlando: 09 (this is actually the RT convention.)

RT09RWA was in DC in 09 and I was there, too. Here’s a link to the most awesome night ever…. Drag Queen Karaoke

I can’t find a picture of me and Maria together in DC. I know there is one…but, this will have to do as a substitute:

DC 09I miss my people! I vow to attend next year, no matter what. (she says, hoping that her empty wallet and dry writing well will fill up soon…)

In Compound Bootcamp Bootyville news, I rested last night. Will be doing major lower body damage to myself this evening. It will be painful and tomorrow I will be using a walker. With hot pink tennis balls for feet.

To all my friends in Atlanta, I miss you. I’m thinking about you. And if you do Drag Queen Karaoke night…PLEASE SEND ME ALL THE PICTURES! Also, good luck to you, my dear friend Maria! Bring home that RITA and make momma proud!

and she cried more, more, more!

Just in case you care, here’s a copy of last night’s workout. (I’m combining various HIIT/and muscle specific exercises for a variety of workouts) Also, I’m not a fitness guru, I’m doing this on my own, at my own risk. If you decide to follow my workouts, it’s all on you. I’m just a moron who can’t afford a personal trainer.  You don’t have to be one, too.

Bootyliciousness workout #6

Bootyliciousness workout #6

By the time I was done with this half-hour…I was crying NO MORE! and I was sweating like a cold beer on a hot table.

I’m staying pretty focused and doing well with my daily exercising…I’m sore, but not in pain. I’m sleeping better and I’m pushing myself to do just “one more” and not quitting when my body wants to.

I’m struggling with keeping my core tight and maintaining appropriate posture when I get tired.

But it’s a process. And I’m showing progress, so no complaints here. (other than, FEED ME!!)

So last night…I had a dream about my ass.

Yep. You read that right. I. Had a dream. About my ASS.

I dreamed that I woke up one morning and was getting dressed and looked in the mirror and my ass looked like this:

It ain't gonna spank itself, fellas.

It ain’t gonna spank itself, fellas.

Now you know why I’m doing all those damn squats. I know my ass is never gonna be this size, but if it could be that shape? I’d never keep my hands off my own ass.

Oh well. I’m always going to have a big butt (So WHAT?) and that’s why, this is my motto

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let’s hear it for more, more, more lunges, squats and big ol’ butts that cannot lie!

Operation Bootylicous Workout #5

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I saw this workout on Pinterest yesterday and decided to modify it to fit my needs.

I actually had planned to do the 80 lunges and go into the 70 squats, but that changed when I got to 30 lunges. I’m just not there yet.  Because of the arthritis in my elbows, I have a very hard time with planks and push ups, so I made an adjustment to suit my body.

I did this set twice, and by the end, I was winded and wobbly. The sign of a very good workout! And it was a nice change of pace from what I’ve been doing. You know, I don’t wanna be bored…

Last night, I was ravenous about an hour after the workout. I had eaten a big green salad prior, and had a high protein shake afterward, but apparently my body needed more. Unfortunately, it was 9:00 and I don’t eat that late, so I fixed myself some green and roasted dandelion root tea and toughed it out. However, when I woke up this morning, I made myself a yummy little egg and cheese open-faced sandwich on the Pepperidge farm thin whole wheat bread because my stomach had tried to eat my spine overnight.

Increase in hunger is to be expected when your metabolism is kicking into gear, but sadly, I’m not a runner who is competing and needs to fuel up on as many calories as I burn. I’m a girl who is trying to lose weight, and has to remind herself that the point of exercising is to burn the calories…not to jump into a vat of cheese dip and while eating all the chips just because you exercised…

Hmph.

In other, non-workout and whiny because I’m hungry news: Pearl is up and running again! Ian’s dad helped us out with purchasing a new battery and she seems to be purring like a kitten. She still needs to have some tweaks done to her, so we’ll take her in next week and have her looked at. I drove her today, to make sure she was safe. I don’t want Ian carting the 4 year old he’s babysitting around in Pearl if she’s going to break down again… Looks like we’re a go, for take off! yippee!

Ian and Pearl

Ian and Pearl

Life is good, bitches. Live a genuine life and be happy. Or else I might have to get stabby all up in this place. Don’t be taking shit for granted, ya hear?

Gadgets and gidgets and gobots?

Well, no Gobots. Not really. But for old time’s sake, here’s a bit of nostalgia for you readers who have been around for a while. Like me.

Is it just me, or were the Gobots just the poor man’s Transformer?

Anyway…so many of y’all have noticed my health, fitness, OMG I’m trying to eat better! shift in my blog. I used to use my Fat Chicks Running blog for that, but I’ve just decided to move it all here. One stop shopping, so to speak.

Well, since I’ve been adding more food/fitness blogs to my content, I’ve had some awesome private messages and texts, all encouraging and many giving me advice.

My friend Amy (who I used to work with in Oxford) messaged me last night about this wonder product she’s using to help her with low carb and less processed foods eating.

The GEFU Spirelli Spiral Cutter
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This magic tool of awesome lets you cut veggies into spiral so you can have fake pasta! Tough veggies like Sweet Potatoes. Or Zucchini. Mmmmm. It is on my must buy list.

Last night was workout #2 at Melf’s Bootay Compound Bootcamp of Bootyliciousness. I focused on arms and shoulders and of course, abs. It was just me and Ruby and Big Baby last night. Rader had dinner with his Nonnie. Which was just as well. It was an ugly work out. U.G.L.Y. But I feel great today, even if I am a bit sore.

Okay, Bitches. I have a dreaded meeting in 45 minutes. I’ve eaten my breakfast, I’ve fueled up on coffee, and I’m sparkling like champagne. Y’all be good today. Or at least, be good at it!