Little blue dress

So weekend before last, a girlfriend took me out shopping. Despite my initial protests.

I bought a couple of tops and a dress.

The dress was SEC blue so at the end of the week when the odds were that I wouldn't have to get dirty or run a lot I wore the new dress at the SEC basketball championship.

On older gentleman that runs the main desk at the media entrance stood up, said "whoo girl you light up a room" and just beamed at me when I walked in the building.


Thoughts based on an article I read today about negative talk about yourself affects others. Calling

I am fat.

I'm also beautiful.

They aren't mutually exclusive and one is more a medical definition anyway.

I don't wear a size 0, 4, 6, or even an 8. My pants sizes are in the double digits and I say sizes because I don't wear just one. I buy clothes based on what looks good and makes me feel good. I'm happier and more comfortable with myself now that I have been at those other sizes, and I've been them all. And while I'm an active person, it's because I like the activity and less about fitting into some magical size that is supposed to make me happier.

I worry about my health and thus would be okay if I lose weight while being active. But I'm not so worried (because I get a physical and my numbers look good) that I'm willing to beat myself up for not being active when it's this cold out.

I feel beautiful every day, even on days my hair is a mess and I'm wearing sweats. I feel beautiful because no matter if I'm full make up or make up free, I love my smile. I love my spirit and I know that both are gorgeous. I feel beautiful when my hair is curls that are all over the place and I feel beautiful when I've flat ironed and tamed it into place. I feel beautiful because I know I can be, that spirit matters more than anything on the out side and being comfortable with who you are is far sexier than being a size whatever.

I say I'm fat in front of my nieces and young girls I have influence over. But when I'm chastised for it, or the words no, you're beautiful come out of their mouths I make sure I make them hear the first three sentences of this post.

I am fat. I am beautiful. They aren't mutually exclusive.

I do this so if their pants size or scale creeps higher than they want it to, and even if other women would kill for their size, it eventually will, I want them to hear my voice saying that it doesn't matter. You can still be beautiful.

I'm not a real women have curves kind of person. I'm an embrace who you are, where you are kind of person. If you want to change. Do it. The healthy way. But you should know that if you don't like the you inside now, changing the packaging isn't going to change that.

Learn to love yourself. Love to think you're beautiful even when you just woke up. The rest will follow, because if you love you no matter what, and weight loss is your goal, it will become another way of loving yourself instead of deprivation to become some idea. And if once you love yourself, it's no longer important, then it never was really the problem.


Christmas and New Year's Wish

Last night I observed a woman at McDonald's threaten to beat the drive thru worker up over some issue with her food. I couldn't hear the issue, but the woman yelling, using profanity, and threats of violence. And all I could think was that no McDonald's food had ever been worth that kind of rage, and that this woman must be going through other stuff in her life to make her so angry.

And so it's my Christmas Wish and wish for the new year that we can just be nice to people.

Random Acts of Kindness don't have to cost you anything.

They can be as simple as holding the door for someone with their hands full, letting someone with fewer packages go through the check out line in front of you, remembering that people are going through their own crap and treating them with kindness no matter how bad you're day has been.

Or you can spend a little money, buy someone's coffee, donate food or clothing to the needy. Send someone a card to let them know you think of them.

I was told once that often at starbuck's if one person pays for the next person's order, often since they expect to have to pay money anyway, it turns into a cascade of people buying the next person's order. I think this is true for the little things in life, if you're kind, it helps others be kind.

I once sent a simple Valentine's Day card to an elderly family member who lived out of state, it made her day so much she wrote me a letter, and so we wrote letters to each other about once every two weeks until she moved into the state. When she passed away and we were cleaning out her apartment, I discovered every card and letter I had ever sent her in a box. Despite being only a few years old, you could tell they had been taken out and read often. You never know what a little thing might do to help someone feel less lonely, less alone, and have hope that someone cares.

Please as you go forward in your day to day thing, if you have the chance to be kind to someone, whether you know them or not, do. Small things matter.


Comments are screened. Please shoot me your address if you would like a Holiday Card from me this year. I have some really cool ones. I'm having to start my address list all over again due to the crash of a hard drive that occurred on Christmas Eve last year.

I know I've been absent of late, please don't hesitate to ask for a card for that reason.

I'm starting to get where I can write about things again and hope to be back soon.

Friend cut going to happen

I am going through a hard time, and I am wanting to type about it, but I don't feel comfortable with as many people on my friend's list that I don't really know that well, and I need my place to write.

If you wish to stay on, please comment.

LJ Idol- the heart of time

It starts the same for everyone, a heart beat that hasn't quite found its rhythm yet. Going twice as fast as the other heart it hears, the one that is a comforting echo that surrounds the bubble you start in.

And then, suddenly, the rhythm starts to change. The heart beat slows and the world is bigger and new. Gone is that comforting echo of another, but now there are voices and smells to comfort you, that are familiar in a new way.

And as you grow, the rhythm of that beat changes, but its always steady and stable. Thunk-thunk. Thunk-thunk.

Then while sitting on a bench, or at school, or at work....or where ever it happens for each of us, you find the heart beat whose pace matches yours. The heartbeat who's rhythm is the same. And the heart beat connected to the hand that when it touches you, makes yours race so that your cheeks flush.

Once having found the heart that beats the way yours does, you go on through out life together. Hands held through all the moments that change that rhythm for you both.

Until one sad, sweet day the rhythm changes for the last time. One of the two connected hearts slows with sadness and the other just stops. The allowed number of beats gone. Thunk-thunk. Thunk-thunk. Beeeeeeeep.

Until it starts again in another bubble.


LJ Idol- the email that made me feel like a BAMF

Online dating leads to interesting conversations and questions being asked. People will take the liberty to say things to you that they never would in person.

I've had several instances of this since I've started dating but none was more memorable than the email I got that simply said "Do you suck dick good?"

That was it. And on a first email too.

So my response was this:

"As a matter of fact I do. But this is something you will never find out since you felt that asking about my fellatio skills was an appropriate first question.

That being said, the proper way to ask that question is "Do you suck dick well?"

Their response was that they were just kidding and wanted to see how I would react. I'm thinking they wanted a yes, let me show you. But I don't roll that way.



Another week where once the voting was over I put my entry to friends only.

I've really got to quit writing about personal crap. Well except its not crap and its what the topics put in my head.

This week we have to write two entries. Hmmm. I've got one of them, at least I think I do. Just got to figure out the other.


I think I'll never see -LJ Idol week 6

I love all the little gadgets in my world, but I think that barefoot, pregnant in a sun dress and tending a garden would suit me just fine....that I would enjoy cooking the food I raised or grew and teaching my kids about the simple pleasures in life.

And I know I'm going to have to find an old soul if I'm to find someone who would enjoy that kind of life. Who would enjoy coming home from work at night to dinner cooked from the garden, to a wife who had the smell of sun and dirt on her skin.

I miss having a garden. I miss the feel of the dirt in my hands and the sun in my hair.

I want my bees and chickens to raise and fruit trees and bushes.

I want to teach my children from home, to home school them and teach them about reading in the shade of a tree, and math and chemistry and how to plant a tree. I want biology lessons to include identifying plants and using food coloring to show the way a plant pulls water through it.

I want giggles and happy kid noises as they play while I cook. I want to hear the door open and greet my husband with a drink and a kiss, and to hear about his day over dinner as the kids show some new thing they learned or talk about the frog we caught at lunch.

I want to have story time by the fireplace in the winter....and crockpot stew so we can go to the library or museum.

I want family snowball fights when we get snow. And family hikes and pool time. I want to have the kids piled up with us on a lazy Sunday morning and I want to lock the door and have lazy Saturday mornings with just my husband....practicing at making more kids even if we are protected against actually doing so.

And I think of all these things and I picture him coming through the door. I close my eyes and see him reaching down to hug one of the kids that has toddled up and hugged his leg as he pulls me into a hello kiss with his other hand tangling in my hair.

I see us having the occasional fight but not angry fights, but talking about something after the kids have gone to bed...and making sure that we don't go to bed angry. I see us using honesty and working on things that are important.

I see us cooking together on the weekends. Or me playing with the kids on the deck as he does the yard work....and me finding a way to distract them as I help him out of those clothes and to get a little more sweaty before he gets in the shower.

I see all of that and I ache. I ache because I worry it will never happen. I will never hear those giggles and I will never get to look up at the door from the kitchen and smile at him as he comes in from work. I won't get to see his smile spread across his face as he gets that "I'm home, this is sanctuary" feeling. I won't get to see his rumbled hair and grumpy smile as he wakes up in the morning. I won't get kisses on my forehead or his arm around me when he knows I'm feeling panicky or excited.

I'm scared that by setting my own standards so high that I'm keeping myself single. I need them to want some of the things I want. And while the above scenario would be wonderful I know I will need to adjust it for who ever I'm with. But someone who can appreciate the simpler things in life is necessary. Sigh.