Cheryl's Next Chapter

Wedding (and Weight) Planning

2010-04-18T09:20:00.002-04:00

It's been a while since I've posted. Life gets in the way of blogging. :)

I've been in rapid wedding planning mode. We have a little over six months left before the big day, and we've got the majority of the things covered:

Date, check
Ceremony and reception locations, check
Pre-Cana certification (for those non-Catholics out there, this is a wedding preparation course), check
DJ, check
Photographer, check
Florist, check
Honeymoon, check (the hotel at least)
Wedding dress, check
Getting in shape to wear the dress..... *screech*

Ok. I've been a wee-bit lax in the area of getting in shape, and losing some weight I managed to pack on in the past year. So...I called Jenny. Jenny Craig.

I started the Jenny Craig weight loss program last Thursday night, and I have to say, the food isn't bad. Because I like structure, this program is perfect. They give me a daily menu planner, and I buy the food there. It could not be simpler!

My challenge is the size of the food portions. I think this will get better as my stomach adjusts to what is deemed "healthy sized" meals. I had an a-ha moment about this. I didn't realize one could actually be addicted to food. In the greater Philadelphia area, it is a smorgasbord of food - good and bad. And there's so much of it, it's difficult not to be tempted.

I also have to learn how to eat when I go out with friends and family. I have a book, and I can't wait to see the look on my peeps' faces when I start hacking away at meats to make sure they're the size of my fist.

It will be times out that I wish I was born with man hands.

Musically Challenged

2010-01-17T14:32:00.002-05:00

As part of everything SCF and I have to do for the wedding, we have the challenge of picking out some music.

Why, you may ask, is music such a challenge? Perhaps I should mention now: SCF is a huge music buff. I am humbled by his vast array of musical knowledge. I am merely someone who likes a little of everything, and can't tell you the name of any song titles. So, if I have a song in my head, I either have to hear it again and say, "Oh, yes. That's the song," or ask the SCF.

So far we know what we don't want. We've already decided "anything with animals" is to be excluded - for example, there will be no Chicken Dance or Alley Cat. We've nixed the garter tradition, so I guess that means no Beyonce's "Single Ladies." I personally have never been a fan of the tradition (I like the Beyonce song), and given most of our friends and family are already married, it doesn't make much sense.

We've managed to pick out our first dance song. Ok - SCF picked it out and I wept when I heard it and pronounced that had to be the song. We've found some agreed upon music for dinner and dancing (everything from Michael Buble to Metallica). Now we're at the stage where we need to pick out the "entry" music (we may go with something from Prince) and the "Father Daughter" and "Mother Son" dance music.

This will either be a lot of fun or excruciatingly painful for the SCF... :)

Little Mouse, Big City

2010-01-17T14:13:00.002-05:00

I've started off the new year not only with Manfriend now being my SCF (super-cute fiance), but also with a new job. After four and a half years at the small consulting company owned and operated by good friends, I said goodbye and started at a rather large company in the city.

I am both excited and anxious about it. I'm excited, because it feels like I am exactly where I should be. The team with whom I will be working has welcomed be warmly, and they are very nice. I'm anxious, because it's in the city. It's a really easy commute, don't get me wrong. The train system is fantastic - especially since I just missed the union strike. But I've been a suburbanite all of my life. The prospect of going to the city every day is a little daunting.

My first day was fine. As luck would have it, as I walked out of the train station, there was a lovely young woman there who was going to the same orientation I was, so we traveled together that day.

The rest of the week I managed to get to the train station on time and to walk to and from my office building without getting lost. The city, for the most part, is quite lovely. There is so much architectural eye candy there, and interspersed there are a lot of fun shops and eateries.

As much as there is the beauty, there are also the harsh realities, which include cold weather, the unfortunate (and sometimes scary) homeless souls seeking shelter where ever they can, and...rats. I saw a big one skitter across a walking path one day and froze dead in my tracks. I'm used to seeing deer. They're prancy and they have cute fluffy tails. Rats...not so much.

Catching Up, Part III: Ending on a High Note

2009-12-26T12:17:00.002-05:00

As you may have seen in my previous posts, I mention Manfriend quite a bit.

I love him.

He is a good man. He has made me believe life can be good, and that there is love and happiness after divorce. He is kind. He is sexy. He makes me laugh. He is a sweetheart.

On December 13, he got down on one knee, told me he didn't want to wait anymore to start the next phase of our lives, and asked me to marry him. After the initial shock wore off, I said yes.

My parents proceeded to ask when we thought we'd get married, and I said it all depended on when my annulment arrived. The last correspondence I received indicated it would take up to a year for it to be decided.

Four days after Manfriend proposed, I received a letter in the mail from the Archdiocese Tribunal:

"This letter is formal notification that the Reverend Judges of this Tribunal have handed down an AFFIRMATIVE decision and that the nullity of the [NAMES] marriage has been judged as proven in the eyes of the Church.

"You are hereby informed that you are free to marry in the Catholic Church insofar as your marriage to [EX'S NAME] is concerned..."

There are other formalities in the letter. I could barely read them through my tears. I couldn't believe it. I thought I'd be waiting for months for this letter. And it was there, in front of me. I called Manfriend at work and told him the news. He was initially speechless, and then said, "Wow. Talk about perfect timing!"

I know!!!

Manfriend and I talked later that night, and we decided to look forward to all the positive things in the coming year.

I feel so blessed and happy right now. I am overjoyed.

Love you, Manfriend. I can't wait to be Mrs. Manfriend in late 2010!

Catching Up, Part II: Coumadin Free!

2009-12-26T12:13:00.001-05:00

In early September, after an ultrasound of my leg and blood work completed, my doctor informed me I no longer had to take Coumadin.

I can't tell you how relieved I was.

I've since had a follow-up ultrasound of my leg, and everything is still clear! I am so happy!

While there are moments where I still freak out a little if I feel a twinge in my leg, I feel like I sleep a lot better at night now.

Let's face it. My early 2009 was not terrific, but things definitely picked up!

Catching Up, Part I: Death and Heartache

2009-12-26T11:22:00.006-05:00

Hello:

I just looked at the last time I wrote anything here, and I'm embarrassed it's been that long. There's so much to tell, though, so I guess it was worth the delay in posting anything. It's been a roller coaster of a year.

Let's catch you up, shall we?

Death and Heartache

In August, I lost my beloved Scottish Terrier to intestinal and liver cancer. He was seven years old, and such a joy. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him or miss him. I am grateful to have my 12 year old Boxer girl, but he was the one that always greeted me at the door. I miss my furry welcoming committee.

When I found out the diagnosis, Manfriend looked at me and asked me if I was going to contact my ex. I stared at him. I really didn't want to, but at the same time I knew if it was me I'd want to know (which is exactly what Manfriend said to me). My Scotty's timing was interesting, as I had to contact my ex anyway to inform him I'd be going through the Catholic annulment process and he'd have to complete some paperwork.

I e-mailed him on a Sunday with the news about the dog and about the annulment. He wrote me back immediately and told me he wanted to see him before I took him to be put to sleep. The next day, I called into work to let them know I would have to work from home for a couple of days. I had already taken a half day, as I had to go to the Archdiocese of Philadelphia in the afternoon to start the annulment process, which consisted of providing payment, completing initial paperwork, and being deposed by a Deacon.

I asked my Dad to watch the dogs while I traveled to Philadelphia. My mom went with me for the ride. We parked and went to the Archdiocese's building, and I signed in as my mom found a chair in the waiting room.

Side note: When I get nervous I tend to make inappropriate observations..and then say them out loud. Case in point: I had no idea what to expect as part of the deposition, and as my mom took out a baby blanket to embroider for my niece, I looked above her and noticed a painted picture of Jesus. It looked like Jesus was giving gang signs. I mentioned that to my mom, and she just looked at me and said, "Keep it up, Cher." I think she was worried I would botch up my chance at the annulment if the wrong person walked by and overheard me.

The Deacon, a very nice older gentleman, came for me. I handed over all the necessary paperwork, and he informed me he'd be interviewing me, and the deposition would be cassette-taped. It started off pleasantly enough: How was your childhood? How many years of Catholic school did you attend? And then, we switched to: When did you notice changes in your marriage? What do you think it was that ended your marriage?

Between my dog dying and reliving tough moments in my marriage, I burst into tears. The second half of the interview consists of me bawling my eyes out and the Deacon reassuring me it would be okay and handing over half the contents of the tissue box on his desk. I'm glad he took notes. I don't think anyone attempting to listen to the tape would have understood the second part.

Completely drained, I walked out, paid the fee, and Mom and I walked back to my car in relative silence. I drove home, asked Dad how the dog was, and he looked at me and said, "he's okay" in a way that let me know it was time to make an appointment to put him to sleep the next day.

I called my vet to let her know I needed to schedule it, and we scheduled it for the next night. I planned on spoiling him rotten until I had to take him and say goodbye.

After a long day, Manfriend came over to spend some time with him. We went outside, and as I look at the street in front of my house, a familiar red truck goes by. I checked my phone and saw he left a text message indicating he was staying at a local hotel and wanted to know if it was okay to see him that night. Sure. Why not? I had already been kicked in the balls all day that day, why not just wrap it up. I agreed, and with that, after over a year, I saw my ex for the first time.

Admittedly, it was difficult to see him. He came in and hugged me. I just stood there like a statue. Once that was out of the way, he spent some time with the two dogs. When I told him I had made the arrangements, my 40-something year old ex burst into tears. He loved that dog, and while I was sympathetic, it was almost more than I could bear. I grabbed tissues for him, we exchanged "how is your family" pleasantries, and then I walked him to the door. He thanked me for allowing him to say goodbye, hugged me again (and I stood like a statue again), and then walked out the door.

Before he got into his truck - and again, why not continue the ball-kicking - I asked him a question that had bothered me for a long time. I gave him a name, and asked him how he knew her. Very casually, he said, "Oh, we're dating." Just like that. We're dating. Keep in mind I still have annulment deposition trauma circling in my head. I told him that was interesting since her number was all over our mobile number bill since the December before we got divorced. Again, nonchalantly, "We were just friends." Uh-huh. A friend of which he had never spoken. As emotional as I was, my heartbreak was complete, and I felt like I could move forward with my life.

The next day, I spent as much time as I could with my little Scotty as I could (in between eight conference calls throughout the day). At about 2pm, my ex texted me again. He wanted to see him one last time before he headed back home. I acquiesced, but told him I barely had time to say goodbye. He arrived at my house at 4pm, pet him, asked me to take a picture of him and the dog with his cell phone, I snapped the shot, and then he walked out my front door, hugged me again, and drove off by 4:15pm.

Manfriend picked me up an hour later, and he held my dog as I drove to the vet's. I carried my dog in with Manfriend in tow, and asked him to sit in the waiting room while I had my appointment. I've never had to say good bye to a pet via euthanasia before, so I was a mess. The vet came in to the room, and she gave him an initial shot, and then she administered the final drug, and I felt him slip away.

There are no words for that moment.

I kissed his forehead for the last time, made the cremation arrangements, and walked out. They give you so much love, and you can only hope they felt happy and just as loved when they exit the world.

I was so grateful Manfriend was there for me. (Thank you, Manfriend. I love you for that.)

I know this was a bummer of a post upon returning to writing, but don't worry. There is good news and happiness in the follow-up posts.

Being Smacked With A Message

2009-07-25T16:21:00.002-04:00

I've re-learned every day is a gift. I was actually smacked pretty hard with the message this week.

A colleague of mine lost her husband to a pulmonary embolism three weeks ago. He was 46. He is survived by his wife (my colleague) and his two daughters, ages 12 and 8.

I'm going to give you the short version of the chain of events. Four weeks ago, my colleague called out of work. She said her husband took a bad fall and he had to go to the hospital. He cracked his head open and broke an orbital bone (near his eye). I later found out from her he was a lifer on coumadin, due to a blood clot he experienced in 1995 after back surgery. Three weeks ago, she said she had to work from home, because she was picking her husband up from the hospital after surgery (he had blood on the brain from the fall). She expected to take him home that day. She received a call indicating he had fallen. (He collapsed in the hospital's Dispatch area). She went to the hospital, where she found out he was "code blue." He had a moment where he was awake, and said something was wrong, that his chest hurt. Despite their best efforts, he did not make it.

I spoke with my colleague yesterday, to see how she was doing, and she's still trying to process everything in her head. She repeatedly said "I just don't understand. I was supposed to bring him home." I'm glad this wasn't a face to face discussion. I had tears streaming down my face as she told me the chain of events.

Then she asked me about all things related to my experience with DVT and the pulmonary embolism, but my experience was so different from her husband's. I felt terribly I could not give her comfort or answers to her questions.

After I finished my phone call with her, I wanted to walk out of the office and hide. Escape. Run. Never once while I was in the hospital did I think I would die. I imagine that's what he was thinking, too. They would just patch him up. He would go home to his family and resume his life. I think about that poor man, and my stomach churns.

It's been a while since I've really thought about the series of events with my situation earlier in the year. I make no apologies about the self-centeredness of this next comment: That could have been me. I could have been dead, at 36.

A friend of mine said to me a couple of weeks ago, "I don't understand why you are doing the fitness boot camp. You don't like getting up early, you aren't a fitness junkie, and you don't like being outdoors. Why?" I just shrugged my shoulders, unable to articulate why exactly I decided to participate in something that is so contradictory to who I am.

If I had to answer that question today, I would say, "Because I don't want fear to cripple me." I had my toe in the grave without fully realizing it until three weeks ago, despite the numbers of medical staff, Manfriend and others telling me how lucky I was during that timeframe. I remember being terrified of every pain and ache when I first started the DDIP. I remember pulling a groin muscle in the first week and thinking I had another DVT. I was afraid of the pain and the inconvenience of the DVT and PE earlier this year. Fear can be downright paralytic. I had to mentally fight the fear through the physical activity.

That phone call on Friday was an epiphany. As my Instructor said this week, "The best things in life are not things."

Woo-hoo!

2009-07-25T13:57:00.002-04:00

I can't believe I did it, but I did.

I "graduated" from Fitness Boot Camp. I didn't quit the Squad. I managed to get through most of the running (still, not my favorite). I enjoyed being outside, often covered in grass clippings and mud. I looked forward to starting off Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at "zero dark thirty" with 100+ crazy people and an incredibly disciplined and motivated set of instructors.

On Friday, after an integrity run (we all stayed together - left no one behind) and a series of insane calisthenics, we huddled together for graduation. Each of the new recruits received certificates and dog tags. They honored select recruits for their motivation, discipline and heart. Someone from the squad catered a graduation breakfast (for which I could not, unfortunately, stay).

Here's the nutty thing: After the first two weeks where I could barely walk or breathe, I've come to a place where I crave this time. I've signed up for the next session.

Fabulous: The Millionaire Matchmaker

2009-07-06T19:54:00.004-04:00

I'm always on the go. This is the first night in a very long time I've had a night to myself. Just my two sleepy dogs, the television and me. While I miss Manfriend tonight, I feel like the "me" time is so needed.

I made my way through all the premium channels, and nothing. Then, my pastry-puff, mind-numbing salvation: Bravo TV. The entree: The Millionaire Matchmaker. The star: Patti Stanger.

I love this woman. She tells it how it is. Present company included, men and women should follow the Millionaire's Club rules for the participants.

I love watching her verbally beat the crap out of her clients. They get frustrated; they get irritated; but then a light bulb goes off and they start to listen to her. And you know what? She's right. Wanna know something else? A lot of them find happiness when they follow the rules.

However, when they don't follow the rules...drama. Lots and lots of drama.

Both scenarios are great television. I cheer for the happy couples and the men who follow the rules!

Rest and Relaxation, Damnit

2009-06-27T09:06:00.003-04:00

I need to get my head in order. Things seem to be moving faster than I can handle at work, home and personal. I'm sitting on my couch, my hamstrings and knees completely sore from a week of working out at fitness boot camp. I'm making an active effort to ensure I spend equal amounts of time with Manfriend, family and girlfriends. I don't want anyone feeling like I'm ignoring them or that I want to spend less time with them. My head hurts from all the complications related to the several projects on which I am engaged. Even my day off this week felt like work. I'm either too distracted or too tired to settle down and do the things I need to do. Laundry is my continual enemy. My writing time seems to diminish each week. I know consulting is not something I want to do for the rest of my life, but I don't have the brain power to really examine what it is I want to do that can also provide the same amount of financial security.

I'm desperate to find balance and to avoid the mistakes I've made in the past. I seem to be falling short in areas.

Honestly, I'm burnt out. I could really use a break. Unfortunately, with Purple Leg at the beginning of this year, my vacation time is scant at best for the rest of the year.

A little rest and relaxation is in order. So, this weekend I'm doing as little as possible - with the exception of laundry.

Second Chances

2009-06-27T07:57:00.005-04:00

I watched Sex and the City for the umpteenth time. I really am a sap for the romantic comedy.

In a scene with all four girls, Samantha talks about not being happy all the time in her relationship, and looks at the other girls for agreement. She asks Charlotte how many times she's really happy in her marriage. Charlotte, the only one not in turmoil in the movie, says, "I'm happy every day. Maybe not all the time every day, but I'm happy every day."

If you were a fan of the show like I was, you know that Charlotte's road to happiness was not simple or straight-laced. She was married to someone who couldn't...perform. The two of them couldn't work it out for additional differences, and eventually divorced. This shattered Charlotte's view of the fairy-tale marriage she always wanted. And then she met Harry Goldenblatt.

Sometimes, like Charlotte's storyline, happiness comes in the form of second chances.

I dig that concept.

Exhaustipated

2009-06-14T09:34:00.002-04:00

I'm a little run-down after this week.

For starters, my hot water heater broke. This is after almost a month of trodding down to the basement every three to four days to reset it so I could get hot water. Tuesday night, Manfriend went into the basement to check if there was any water from the torrential downpour we've been experiencing in our area. I heard him bellow, "Cher...I think you better get down here." Never a good sign. I walk down the stairs, and it's like Amazon rain-forest humid. I see water pouring from the overflow of the water heater, and it appears to be raining from my ceiling.

Shit.

There's water dripping from the ceiling, and from all the house wires, too. Time to call Dad.

Manfriend and Dad determined, thankfully, the water dripping from the ceiling was condensation, and not a broken pipe. They dried everything using a leaf blower and shop vacuum, and then instructed me to call my service company. A technician came out and replaced the lower element, and said someone else would return in the morning to replace the upper element and the relief valve.

Wednesday, the technician came and replaced the remaining parts. I was working from home. As he was downstairs fixing things, my internet connectivity went dead. I was not happy, as I was in the middle of a meeting which required me to use netmeeting, a webconferencing tool. After he finished, I asked him if he had touched anything other than the hot water heater. He said no. While happy I would have hot water like normal people do, I was very frustrated my connection could not be restored. Because I looked like hell and refused to go to the client site looking the way I did, I packed everything up and worked at the local supermarket's wi-fi cafe, which is about a mile or so away from my house.

Do you know how difficult it is to facilitate a conference call while someone on the loud speaker is yelling "PICK UP ON AISLE EIGHT?" Side note: Peeps at the grocery store, please - you have a loud speaker. There's no reason to SHOUT!

Thursday morning, I turn on my shower faucet, and guess what? No. Hot. Water. I could feel myself unhinge. I called the service company begging them to get someone out later in the evening. My buddy John talked me off the proverbial ledge, explaining it was most likely a circuit breaker issue. I took the quickest shower in my life (I had lukewarm water.), and got to work early. I tore home after an exhaustive day of meetings, and met up with my Dad. He took a look my basement configuration, went over to the array of switch and fuse boxes, and found the breaker for the hot water. Click. Let the Seraphim sing - HOT WATER! I called the service company and canceled the visit. The cable company technician arrived, and replaced some old splitters, and I had wonderful, glorious internet connectivity again! Woo-hoo!

Friday, I got up at 4:30am for my fitness boot camp session, and the majority of it was running. Yep. Running. My exercise kryptonite. We were to run a two-mile course, and then come back for two to three exercises (push-ups, flutter kicks/crunches, and squats). My running was more run-jog-walk-drag-get yelled at to pick up the pace-run-jog-walk-walk-run the home stretch-collapse. From there, took a FABULOUS hot shower at my house, and then worked from 9am to 11pm.

I crawled into bed on Friday, and swore I would sleep through to Sunday. I slept...and woke up at 7am. *whimper* I couldn't fall back to sleep again, and got up for the day. I returned my client manager's text to hear his feedback and to provide him with any updates I had on the previous day activities, had lunch with a couple of friends, and went to Manfriend's house for dinner and hanging out.

Today will be laundry day, and anything else that comes up. I'm hoping there's a nap somewhere in this day's agenda. :-)

I think I've grown gills...

2009-06-09T16:50:00.002-04:00

What is up with all of the rain? Don't get me wrong: It's great for the greenery. But, sheesh.

This morning I woke up to the news and saw the weather forecast, which indicated to me not only would the roads be slick, but the traffic would be horrendous, too.

I wasn't disappointed. It took me 2.5 hours to get to my client site today. Boo.

Tomorrow, I will work out in the great outdoors. It will be soggy and muddy. Awesome.

Not Too Bad Today...My Groin Might Give You a Different Story, Though

2009-06-08T07:49:00.005-04:00

Day 1, Week 2 of Fitness Boot Camp is under my belt. I thought I had actually worked through the groin muscle pain until one particular move where you "shuffle" across half a field, and then switch and "shuffle" the second half. As soon as I switched, I felt my right groin scream at me. I yelped in unison.

Dr. Drill Instructor used a different approach today. He announced squad leaders. We have BEE Bach, who is all sorts of awesome. (She did this slide across the field on her belly - very reminiscent of Brandi Chastain or Mia Hamm!)

Each squad leader led us through one exercise and one stretch exercise. We then lined up into six squads. I'm in squad three. We were instructed there were stations where various exercises were conducted.

The following is my recollection of those exercises. It's 5:30am, and you're lucky I remember my name. As Dr. Drill says, I've got to wrap my tiny little brain around these items. Some of these items, I've made up names, but hopefully they give you a picture of what happened in each station. I'm a work in process. So is my brain and memory.

My squad went to four stations. To do so, we had to run various parts of what I affectionately call "the evil mo-fo mile." Our team ran a quarter of it, then got into formation. The first exercise was "shimmying" on all fours to the center of the space, and then do 20 squats. We repeated this twice.

Then, we ran to the next station, where we did lunges up a hill and then ran down the hill. We repeated this a number of times. Then we got down on our butts and pulled ourselves up the hill using our arms (this was to work out the triceps). We did this once, I believe, before another squad appeared.

We got up, and ran to the third station, by the picnic tables. We did reverse push-ups by getting in a sitting position with our backs against picnic table seats and using our arms pushed ourselves up. We did 20 of those. Then we did push-away squats, where we squatted and shoved ourselves away from the table. (20 of those). Then we did steps ups, basically stepping up with one foot on the picnic table seat, then lifting the other; getting down, and using the opposite leg, repeating the process 20 times. Our final piece in this station was to do pushups using the table, by pushing as close to the table as possible, the pushing away, clapping your hands together, and then repeating the process 20 times.

Our final station was our home field, where we did lunges half way across the field, then sprinted the second half of the field. We did squats, push ups, and one-armed holding positions with each arm. I'm forgetting the order now, but somewhere in there we did the shuffle across the field where I re-injured my righ groin muscle. We then ran back to the opposite end of the field, and did planks, super planks, modified sit ups, held our legs six inches from the ground and did circles clock-wise and counter clockwise, and then more more modified situps. As we were doing this, the five other squads were coming in, and at the end we did what I can only describe as a "squat showdown." We held this position for a long time.

We then came together, sat down, for school. Dr. Drill talked about the importance of discipline to make it through the program, and encouraged us to talk to our neighbors to the left and to the right to encourage them and to get to know them, as we will be in a team unit.

My trusty Philadelphia Eagles hat needed to be washed from last Friday's hour in the rain, so my head was soaked and covered with cut grass, as was the rest of my body. Note to self: buy multiple hats, be they baseball hats or skull caps.

I am glad I am done, and that I am starting off my day with this. While I'm not nearly as good as some of the others in the squad in terms of performance, I'm pushing myself as hard as I am able to go.

Today was a good day.

Fear of Full Metal Jacket Moment!

2009-06-07T10:45:00.003-04:00

I am pleased to say I survived week one of Fitness Boot Camp. And when I say survived, I mean barely: This first week included getting a prescription for a rescue inhaler and pulling both groin muscles. Let's just say I have a new appreciation for the military recruits.

The instructors keep saying it's not a competition, but I've seen the Vincent D'Onofrio scene from Full Metal Jacket, and I'm a little nervous. We're supposed to do a baseline test on Monday.

It's been two days of rest. I am still sore in a few places, and I have no idea what that will mean for tomorrow.

Oye.

Still taking it a day at a time, but it is intimidating that there are 50-year-olds passing me during the running portion of the camp!!!

Oil...Can...

2009-06-03T17:38:00.002-04:00

As I've written in a previous post, I decided to sign up for a Fitness Boot Camp.

Monday, I thought I had made a terrible mistake. I woke up at 4:30am, managed to get dressed, put on underarm deodorant, brushed my teeth, put on my trusty Philadelphia Eagles hat, and drove to the park. I was told on-time (5:30am) is late, so I got there at 5:15 and managed to get a parking space. There were a total of 100 "recruits" (newbies) and "veterans" who attended the first session.

I didn't realize how poorly out of shape I was until the calisthenics drill began. I managed to do a lot of them, but not all of them. I was wheezing so badly that I had to stop a few times. After 45 minutes worth of planks, side-straddle hops (the new-fangled way of saying jumpin' jacks), push ups, hello dollies, cherry pickers, and others I can't even remember the names of, we lined up in rows of three to run. At about a tenth of a mile, my allergies took over my lungs and I had to stop. I walked the rest of the way. I was the last one to join the platoon during Dr. Drill's first talk.

Needless to say I went home, feeling a little defeated. Pathetic. I stood under the hot water of my shower for about 40 minutes. My tired, aching muscles really appreciated the heat.

I got changed, and went to work. Later that night, I went to Manfriend's house, and as I promised, worked out on the elliptical. I managed to get in 19.08 minutes. Then he got on, and I zoned out.

I left his house, and crawled into bed, realizing I had to get up early AGAIN because I had to travel to Jersey for work in the morning. The alarm rang at 5:30am. I whimpered, and my legs were absolultely screaming at me. I managed to get ready and out the door to beat rush-hour traffic. I did a lot of walking on-site, and my legs were really starting to get ticked off, to the point where people were laughing at me as I struggled to get seated in various meetings.

I thought, "How the heck am I going to do this for eight weeks?"

My friend C wrote me during the day, providing words of encouragement. She said even though she's been through it twice, her legs were hurting, too.

As she advised, Tylenol would become my best friend on Tuesday night.

This morning, I heard thunder and lightning. I was kind of excited, thinking, "Ooooo. Maybe we'll work out indoors." No such luck. The skies cleared up in time for 5:30am, and we ran out to the field and worked out. I was covered in grass and mud by the time I left today. And I smushed two worms on the way down to do plank exercises. (Ew.)

My legs hurt just as much as they did yesterday, but I feel better about today. I ran a little, started to wheeze, walked the rest of the way, was the last person to sit down, again. It doesn't matter: I felt better about what I accomplished for the day. I'm just going to take it a day at a time.

If I had to set a long-term goal, it would be to get through all the exercises prior to the running. My guess is by week eight, I'll still be the last one to sit down, but perhaps I'll have a slow jog going, rather than a walk.

In the meantime, I am SORE. It's a good sore, but it's SORE nonetheless.

What's in a Name?

2009-05-26T22:55:00.004-04:00

Manfriend has a very cool first name. It rhymes with "neato."

We went to a home improvement store on Sunday, in search of a patio set for his house. To his delight, the store was running a sale. He found a cart, grabbed a green table, six matching chairs and three side tables, and we walked up to the cashier.

He paid by credit card. She looked at his name on it, and said, "I really like your name."

"Well, thank you," Manfriend said with a smile.

"Yes," she continued, "because you can be called by that. I can't stand it when people are given a name, and other people shorten it. Makes no sense to me. Like, when someone names their kid Joseph, and they call him Joe..." (She said Joe with a sneer.)

Oooookay, then.

I had to look away, as Manfriend was dumbfounded by the exchange. He recovered nicely. He smiled, politely took his card, wished the cashier a happy Memorial Day weekend, and we walked out with his stash.

As we strolled to the exit, Manfriend whispered out of the side of his mouth, "Yep...it's definitely you!" We both started to laugh.

Tonight, he asked me if this was the same home improvement store I went to where I was accosted with Grandpop spittle. (It was.)

"Why do you keep going there?"

Angry

2009-05-19T20:13:00.002-04:00

Today was a tough day. I behaved in a way un-befitting a professional, and I am pissed off at myself. Worse yet, I was angry, and I did the one thing one should not do in an office setting: I cried.

Granted, they were angry tears, but they were tears nonetheless. In my field, there's no crying. There's no crying in I.T., and yet there I was. Pissed off. Angry. Tears flowing. Eyes beet red and swollen. Pissed off, and no longer able to control the anger, the tears flowed down my face.

For a brief few minutes, I didn't give a shit. You know what, I'm pissed. Here's what Pissed looks like. It's not pretty, and sometimes it comes with tears and snot. Piss off.

My manager sat there in shock. He was used to a happier, have-it-all-together, sane person. This was not the person who was in front of him. He did not know quite what to do with me. So, he took me out to lunch. You know, the way a father would take a four year old out for ice cream when she lost a baseball game. Or, get the crazy lady out of the office. Either way, not good. I was so embarrassed by my behavior. I kept apologizing. He told me to stop beating myself up, that it wasn't personal.

I don't know why people don't understand this: It is personal. If we're lucky in today's economic environment, we go to a place of employ, and we spend over a third of our time during the week there. We work hard to enjoy the life we have outside of work. If that hard work is questioned or countered, it equates to a potential altering of our personal lives. So, please - don't tell me it's not personal.

(Yeah. Still pissed off. Can you tell?)

Some days I wish I had the - what's the word? courage? balls? - forethought to collect myself and defend my position, rather than cry or clam up. This applies professionally and personally. Then I think to myself I'd be throwing someone under the proverbial bus if I did so. I wouldn't like myself much if that happened, either. So, the alternative: tears.

One day, I'm going to find my Inner Voice in these situations. Lord help the universe when I do.

Until then, I'm going to be grouchy. And have a cookie. So there.

Private Benjamin with Kettle Bells

2009-05-17T11:27:00.004-04:00

It's been a while since I've posted. I've been distracted.

I have a birthday coming up soon, and I think it's time for reinvention. My friend, C, has been talking about her time in a Fitness Boot Camp. It's run by a chiropractor who was also a Marine. (He signs his e-mails with Semper fidelis.) She said it's done wonders for her, and has said to everyone "you should do this!"

Now, I will say this: She is a feisty warrior without the boot camp training. She's up for any challenge.

I've been trying - trying! - to get back to a normal exercise regimen. Manfriend purchased an elliptical, and we were working out three times a week. We were going at a good clip, but we stopped this week (lots of work just knocked both of us out). We plan on returning to our normal schedule this week, but I want to ramp up my exercise routine. The elliptical is awesome for my legs, but I still am experiencing the "chicken wing" arms. I went to a wedding recently for a family friend, G, and she has these killer arms. I am admittedly very envious!

So, I took the plunge, and signed up for an eight-week stint with the local Fitness Boot Camp. I will go through a physical tomorrow to determine if I can go through with the program (I don't see any problems.). The Fitness Boot Camp is three times a week, from 5:30am to 6:30am. Yes, I did say AM. It's also all outside.

When I tell you this will be a challenge, it will be a challenge. I hate the outdoors. Nature doesn't like me much, either. I've had "tree issues:" They've fallen on my house and my fence, and they are costing me a small fortune to remove them.

I really want to do this, so that I know I can do this. Will I be running marathons after this? Um, no. But, at least I will feel like I've attempted multiple avenues to maintain my health and weight.

OORAH! I've enlisted.

Things that shouldn't make me laugh and yet do...

2009-03-22T13:04:00.003-04:00

Quick post:

My younger dog is blind; my older dog is deaf. Older dog was asleep on the floor; younger dog was asleep on the couch directly above older dog. Younger dog decided to jump to the floor. Older dog can't hear younger dog jump; younger dog can't see what's below him.

Result: Younger dog scares crap out of older dog; older dog growls at younger dog; younger dog still doesn't know what he did.

LMAO.

Like I said... I know it shouldn't have made me laugh. Yet... *giggle*

I want to go baaaack!

2009-03-04T19:14:00.002-05:00

Hello. Long time no blog.

A quick update: I went on a mini-vacation. The kind that didn't involve a hospital bed, and tests, and machines that made loud noises. The kind that included Manfriend, and roses, and wonderful food, and just the two of us away from work and stress. It was heaven.

Oh, yeah - and it was the first time away with Manfriend. It was fantastic. I didn't plan a damn thing. He took care of it all. The place was just perfect for a short-stay getaway. I have to say, I felt very spoiled. The place was delightful. There was a fireplace in the room. Very cozy. I had a massage one day. The breakfasts were phenomenal.

And people, please: they had Ghirardelli hot chocolate and home-made marshmallows. I was ready to move in!

Oh, and there were sheep. They were interesting. I thought sheep made peaceful 'baaaa' sounds. No. They make "MWOOOOAARR" sounds. Scared the crap out of me. Oh, yeah - and they run. FAST.

The last day of our mini getaway, I was determined to take pictures of the sheep. Mostly, they stayed inside their sheep house. We were surprised there was more than one sheep, actually. I walked over to the fence, and started to snap pictures of the four of them in their sheep house. Awww, pretty!

Then, Manfriend says, "Um...do sheep charge?" And I reply, "That's ridicu..."

MWOOOOARRR!

I turn around, and one of the sheep is galloping toward the fence. Galloping!

He stopped at the fence, and then just stared at me. I think it was the shutter click of my camera that had him curious. I said hello. He stared. (I was so tempted to pet him, but really - he was pretty dirty and covered in hay.) Then a second one came out to see what I was, and decidedly uninterested, he went over and had himself a drink of water. The third one, a short, fat, snow white sheep, walked about half way out and stared at me. He looked like a mix between a bull and a sheep. I called him Bullsheep. Yes, I know. It's not original. But to me it was funny.

The fourth one could have cared less and remained in his sheep house.

I'm telling you, I could have holed up at this place (not the sheep house...you know what I mean) for quite some time. I didn't want to leave.

We have to go back, Manfriend. Do you hear me? We have to go baaaaaaack!

South Park Avatar Creations

2009-02-15T02:30:00.003-05:00

My last two posts had some customized avatars. I made these through using the tool at South Park Studios.

It's fun and simple. Enjoy. There's a great Cartman t-shirt you can put on your likeness, but I preferred to keep both of the avatars I created relatively 'normal.'

My Lily Tootsabelle Experience!

2009-02-15T01:46:00.003-05:00

Ooooo! I finally got up the nerve to hold my niece. And it was AWESOME!

Yes, I know this sounds ridiculous. She's almost six months old. But, I have a thing about babies. They look so fragile as infants. So breakable. And they are also so intuitive. They smell fear. I know that if I had held my niece in previous months, she would have known right away what a hack I am at holding children and would have cried her ever-lovin' head off.

When I entered my parents house and saw my sister holding Miss Lils, I knew I could hold her. She's gotten so big, and is just the cutest baby on the planet. So, my sister placed her in my arms, and she only fussed for a minute (she saw her bottle and wanted it, wanted it, wanted it!), and then I sang "The Wheels on the Bus" song to her. Off key. With made-up lyrics. Because I don't know any kiddie songs. (There. I've said it. I'm a mediocre aunt.)

Miss Lils was a trooper. She waited as patiently as she could for her dinner bottle, and tolerated my singing.

She's so beautiful! She's got these amazing cheeks, and the longest eyelashes. She totally adores my sister, which is so cool to see. And my parents are just eating up being grandparents. Tootsabella lights up a room when she's in it.

I can't wait to see her again!

Happy

2009-02-15T00:20:00.003-05:00

Here's what my horoscope said for February 14, 2009:

Today is a great day to surround yourself with the most important people in your life. Don't dwell on all the jewelry and flowers exchanging hands. Instead, admire the gifts in your life -- your sanity, health and sometimes happiness. It'll only get better from here.

The astrology reading rang true today.

I have to say, this is the first Valentine's Day in a very long time where I was truly happy. It's also the first time I've failed miserably in the gift-giving department. I purchased a music box set for Manfriend - and he already had it! D'oh! I know now why it appealed to me when I saw it: he's had it sitting in his living room. As in right in front of me! Durrrr *smacks forehead*

(Well, the good news is at least I know his taste. The better news: I get a shopping challenge!)

Manfriend really made me feel special today. We went grocery shopping; then went to a place called Ray's Diner. We love it there, especially in the back, where it's well-lit, and a little on the intimate side, since there are less tables and booths there. We ate our standard fare, which consists of cheeseburgers (his with bacon and mine with extra pickles) and fries. Since Ray's isn't exactly a yuppie establishment, it's quieter. Which means Manfriend and I can enjoy a very satisfying meal, talk and not feel rushed. It's one of our great pleasures.

He spoiled me today, which was a little overwhelming. At first, I thought he was getting me flowers. Instead, I got a big fluffy red dog stuffed animal, a lovely card (which described our relationship to a 'T'), and a single red rose.

I totally admit, among the things he selected for me, the single rose equates to true romance. There's something beautiful about a single red rose. It's special. It's delicate. It's lovely.

Yeah, he totally made my heart melt.

We went back to his house and enjoyed a slice of Carvel ice cream cake. What Philly girl doesn't enjoy the black and white cake with the chocolate crunch in the center? Mmmm!

He really is such a caring soul. Part of the fun on my road to recovery has been nagging shoulder and neck pain. Since the fast-acting Tylenol did very little tonight, he took care of me to ease my discomfort. He took out this thing you put around your neck. It's cloth with some bean thingies in it. It heats up in the microwave and it smells like lavender. The warmth and the aromatherapy combines to be pure heaven.

He and I chatted away to each other throughout the night, and I thought, "Yeah. One of the best Valentine's Days ever - even if I'm having trouble moving my neck..." I just smiled throughout the night, as did he.

He dropped me off at my house; we kissed goodnight, and then he called me to let me know he had gotten home okay.

Today was a good day. A great day. And I am happy for it!

Above Ground

2009-01-24T10:29:00.004-05:00

Ok, so January was interesting. I spent the first week of it in the hospital, and the second week at home. This past week, I returned to my 'normal' life, which included going to work, a follow-up doctor's visit, blood work, getting into the car and driving solo, a quick drive by and 'hi' to Manfriend and his mother (the visit lasted all of 10 minutes before I felt tired and returned to my sofa at home) and going to my parents' house to see my sister and the most adorable child on the planet, my niece, Miss Lily Isabel.

I have an uncle, who when I get on the phone and ask him how he is, he always responds with the witty retort, "I'm above ground." We both laugh, even though there's still a cringe moment associated with the response, as he's been the recipient of six angioplasties. No, that's not a typo - SIX.

Well, peeps, I'm here to tell you that being above ground is a very, very good thing. I am grateful to have received excellent care at the hospital. I am grateful to have had the support and concern of my family, friends, Manfriend and his family and friends. I am grateful to be home with my nutball dogs. I am so happy to be able to make goofy faces at my niece and hear her giggle.

I'll be blatantly honest: None of what happened to me hit me until I got home. I made an error in judgment and started to read about DVT (deep vein thrombosis) and PE (pulmonary embolism) on the 'net as soon as I got home. DVT - ok, not bad. Not great - but not bad in and of itself.

The complication of having a PE though, not so much. Every web site said the same thing: "life threatening."

On that day of research when I was home, I looked at my dogs, who were sleeping comfortably next to me on the couch, and I thought: Who would they go to? Sure, my parents and Manfriend were great about taking care of the dogs: stopping in each day, feeding them, giving them people time. But that was for seven days. If I wasn't here to return to them, who would they go to? I didn't have a will, because I was 36 and healthy. That's when it hit me. And I cried for about an hour, hugging the both of them, realizing I was scared for them, and yet so grateful to be here and not...elsewhere.

I am grateful for so many things right now. Despite a weird beginning to 2009, I feel blessed. This is my wonderful life, and I take nothing for granted in it.

Metallica Convert

2009-01-18T17:42:00.004-05:00

My first post-illness event was Metallica, and lemme tell ya' what: They were AWESOME! (Photo is courtesy of my Manfriend's friend.)

I just have to say that my last concert was Jimmy Buffett, so this had a little different vibe to it. Manfriend and I went last night, and I didn't know what to expect. Even Machine Head and The Sword, the two opening bands, were quite good. (Update: According to Manfriend, I was delusional. Apparently I only saw Machine Head. My apologies to The Sword...)

They played some good ones (okay, so I know like three songs, and they played two out of three): Enter the Sandman and The Unforgiven. And they played songs from their new album, Death Magnetic, including That Was Just Your Life.

What I found interesting was the gamut of fans. They had people our age (mid 30's), the 20-something set, people in their 40s, and the luxury suite next to us contained parents with their kids aged 8 - 10, who were headbanging along to each of the songs. Of course, since we're in Philly, one of the sections started cheering for the Eagles, and the crowd went nuts.

One of the things we missed was the lead singer bringing out his daughter and having Philly sing Happy Birthday to her.

I love this town!

Graceland Revelation: Thank you, Lisa Marie

2009-01-17T10:58:00.004-05:00

No, the revelation is NOT that I like peanut butter and banana sandwiches (seriously - they wondered why Elvis died young?). But Graceland's Lisa Marie Presley, along with a hematologist from my hospital stay, provided some insight into a previous issue that leaves me a little on the speechless side, and a lot on the hopeful side.

As part of the littany of questions I had to answer, a hematologist at the hospital asked me if I had every had any surgeries. I replied that I had had two, due to miscarriages. He replied, "You know, the miscarriages may have been due to a clotting issue you might have."

No, I didn't know that.

Yesterday, my best friend J calls me. I had told her the hematologist story, and then she saw this news:

PHOTO EXCLUSIVE: Lisa Marie Presley's Twin Baby Girls!

I'm like...oookaaay. What does that have to do with me? Then I read it. Here's an excerpt:

"I really wanted these babies," says Presley, 40, who tried for two years to get pregnant before conceiving the twins.

"My blood was too thick and would clot, which caused several miscarriages," she tells PEOPLE. "The moment I took blood thinners, I got pregnant."

I just stared and stared at these two lines in the text. Could this possibly be why I wasn't able to carry to term? While all my blood tests came back and said my blood did not show any signs of hypercoagualative states, this still could be the answer to all of my questions!

As my friend J said, while I went through Hell for a week, nothing but good can continue to come from the experience. I can only hope.

Now, does that mean I'm going to run out and get pregnant right now? Uh, NO. Let me be clear: No. With a side of no. With a T-shirt that says No.

But, what this means is that when I am ready, this might be something I need to consider. I will be on Coumadin for a year, but while it is the blood thinner of choice, it is also not good for developing babies. So, if I would want to get pregnant in the next few years, I may have to re-visit this topic and determine if heparin is the way to go.

My 2008 Hangover

2009-01-10T13:11:00.003-05:00

Wanna ask me how my 2009 is going?

I've started off the year with new vocabulary. I learned the meanings of Deep Vein Thrombosis, Pulmonary Embolism, Greenfield Filter and May-Thurner syndrome.

So, last Friday, January 2, 2009, I wake up and I am in serious pain. My left groin is throbbing. I get up, thinking I pulled a muscle. Nope. Can barely put pressure on the leg to walk to the bathroom. "This is fun," I think to myself. An hour later, I notice my entire left leg is swollen. Hmmm. That can't be good. I tell Manfriend I don't feel well, along with the symptoms, and he suggests a doctor's appointment.

Now, no offense to doctors, but I can't stand going. I have to be uber-sick.

Apparently, I was uber-sick.

By the time I got to my 1:45pm appointment, my entire leg was not only swollen, but it was purple. My doctor took one look at my leg and said go to the emergency room immediately. I drove myself there, they took one look and said, ok - you're staying.

Again, not one for doctors, I wasn't happy with this. What do you mean, staying? For how long?

That depended on the ultrasound of my leg.

I have the ultrasound done, and the technician took one look at me and said, "This isn't good. Are you short of breath? How do you feel?" I reply other than my leg hurting, I feel fine. She informs me I have a blood clot that stretches from my knee cap to the top of my left groin. Ok, that really didn't sound good. With that, I was admitted to the hospital. I called my parents, Manfriend and my best friend, J, who all equally freaked out. Manfriend was the first to arrive. Then the parents. They saw the leg, and all of them freaked out more. I'm placed in a hospital room, and given Lovenox and Coumadin.

The next day, the nurse administered the Lovenox shot, and something happened. I felt like someone had shoved long fingernails into my chest. Ok, that's definitely not good. I get a CAT scan. Turns out some of the enormous clot in my leg broke off and entered my lungs. It did not, thankfully, reach any part of my heart. Otherwise... I might not have been here to type this post.

The CAT scan also brought other news: I don't have cancer. That was a freak-out moment. "What do you mean, I don't have cancer? Since when were we looking for CANCER?" I also have a cyst on my right ovary. Oh, goodie.

After the lovely pulmonary embolism revelation, the doctors inserted a Greenfield filter via my right groin. (Being a sci-fi geek at heart, this is fascinating to me. It kind of looks like a freaky metal spider out of The Matrix movies. ) The Greenfield filter is in place to ensure if I do get blood clots in the future, they do not travel to my lungs or to my heart. So far, the Greenfield filter is my favorite thing that has come from this.

The good doctor also informed me I would have a pulmonary breathing study, a venal exam, and several blood tests to determine if I had a blood clotting disorder.

The next day, I am administered the pulmonary breathing test, which consists of taking a deep breath, holding it in, holding my nose and simultaneously breathing out as hard and as long as I can into a plastic tube, and then sucking in breath again. My tests were within normal range considering I had a pulmonary embolism.

A couple of days later (I think it was the following Tuesday), I was taken down to a place called Interventional Radiology, where they asked me to lie on my stomach as they took pictures (this was the venal study), and then with some local anesthetic, they inserted a catheter via the back of my left knee. The catheter inserted had tiny holes in it. Attached externally, the doctors plugged in two IVs, one for heparin and one for something called TPA. These were both used to bust up the ginormous clot in my leg. Here's the kicker: I had keep my leg flat for 24 hours. This led to a lot of back pain and a lot of Dilaudid, a serious painkiller of which I took full advantage. It also messes with your head. At one point, I was convinced someone was stocking shelves all around my bed. Manfriend also said I got into an imaginary argument with him about Indians, as I asked him, "What about the Indians?!?!" Yeah. Nothing but fun and giggles.

The next day, I was carted back down to Interventional Radiology, where they said the treatment was working well, but they wanted me to remain on it for another day, which meant another day of lying flat, and more Dilaudid, and one shot of Ativan, because my nerves were completely frayed. One note, I got to see the Greenfield filter. X-rays of your body are also kind of cool.

More Dilaudid. More Ativan.

My final day in Interventional Radiology, I got to see more pictures of my leg, and it looked like it was all clear. They removed the catheter, but told me I had to remain on the heparin for a while.

Two days ago, Friday, January 9, I was sent home with a Lovenox kit (which I hadn't looked at until I got home and realized it was the Spanish version of the literature), compression 'leg warmers' (that's what they look like! I feel like I can relive my 80s childhood!) and prescriptions for Lovenox (which came in syringes), Coumadin, Prilosec, a follow-up ultrasound, and PT/INR blood tests to check my "levels." The doctors and nurses wished me luck, and one nurse continually reminded me "someone was watching over me last Friday" and "I had no idea how lucky I actually was."

After all the blood tests were completed, it was determined I do not have a blood clot disorder. I was told that I have something called May-Thurner, which means that on my left side there is an artery that crosses over a vein. This is normal in most people. However, in the case of May-Thurner, as I understand it, the artery compresses the vein, which can sometimes lead to DVTs.

I am home now, and grateful to be at home. My parents, friends and Manfriend have all been wonderful.

I am still getting used to the concept that I am not invincible. I was all gung-ho on returning to work this Wednesday, but I'm not so sure after yesterday. It took me a good two days to type this post. The Lovenox makes me dizzy and it gets difficult to look at a computer screen for too long as a result. Ironically, my left leg feels like nothing happened to it, but my right leg is another story. Due to the Greenfield filter insertion, my right groin and surrounding area is very tender, which makes it difficult to sleep and to get comfortable. I feel run down after showering. Yesterday was a big day, as I took my first shower post-hospital stay (the word "orgasm" comes to mind), paid my bills, fed the dogs, had my parents and my friend L came over with her five year old daughter (who is a riot, very well behaved, and along with my niece Lily makes me want to have kids of my own) to visit. By the time they all left, I felt like I had run a marathon.

On a positive note, I lost seven pounds while in the hospital, so I'm at least tackling one of my New Year's resolutions.

New Year - Old Resolutions

2009-01-01T16:48:00.002-05:00

Thank God it's 2009 and 2008 is OVER.

And now, the dreaded resolutions. Personally, I'm not big on resolutions. While there are good intentions initially, I find it rare that people actually follow through with them. I'm one of those people.

But, this year, I am going to really try to keep to them, and there's motivation involved. There's a website called StickK, where people can register, list their resolutions, assign a coach to make sure they are making progress, and even wager money, so that if the resolution isn't performed, the money can go to a favorite charity...or a least favorite charity (I think it's referred to as an anti-charity).

With this in mind, I have three resolutions:

Lose 20 pounds and maintain the loss throughout the year.
Write the manuscript for the book.
Hand-write letters to people throughout the year.

I have to register these on the site, and list 'coaches' for each one. I'll post the progress on the blog throughout the year.

Happy New Year!!!

16 Things About Me - Redux

2008-12-19T14:39:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine, Beth Adams, sent a note out to folks on Facebook asking them to write 16 things about themselves, and then to tag others to do the same.

This has been a year of soul-searching, and this was what I could muster at the time:

1. I am a proud aunt to a beautiful little girl, Lily.

2. I have two dogs: Pepsi, who is 11 and may be starting to go deaf; and Bruiser, who is 6 and went completely blind over the course of two weeks this year.

3. I can instill fear into people's hearts by raising my left eyebrow.

4. I live to shop.

5. My favorite Christmas movie is the original Miracle on 34th Street.

6. A ring intended for my finger will also fit perfectly on my thumb.

7. In 1969, on my birthdate, The Who released the rock opera "Tommy."

8. Any time it is on television, I will watch the movie Jaws. I seriously can't not watch it.

9. When I was little, my dream was to be an animator for Disney.

10. I do not have any tattoos, but I would like to get one when I turn 40.

11. I may be the only girl on the planet who thinks The Three Stooges is a riot.

12. I can't get the song "Ironman" out of my head. I've been humming it constantly for months.

13. I was born a geek. In my baby book, it says one of my favorite songs was the theme song to Star Trek.

14. I would go back to Paris in a heartbeat.

15. I am fascinated by body oddities.

16. Mushrooms and seafood of any kind make me sick.

So, if I had to re-do the list, I would add the following:

1. Lily rocks. There's no re-do on that.

2. My parents and my sister rock, too.

3. Divorce really sucks, but it has its benefits. I found out I am stronger than I thought I was. I know who my friends are, and that I've been blessed with many. And, I know that all is not lost in love - that it was right around the corner. LITERALLY. (Manfriend is really cute and sweet and located within a stone's throw from my house...)

4. Miscarriages suck. There are zero benefits associated with this event. I secretly named the first child Abby Rose and the second one Michael. I have no idea what their genders actually were, but in my heart I knew their names.

5. I want a tattoo, but I don't think I'm going to wait until I'm 40 to get one. I'd like to either get an anklet tattoo, or angel wings on my right shoulder. With either one, I don't believe there will be any sagging skin issues when I get older.

6. I want to be a mom, and want to have the experience of giving birth, but I am terrified of having another miscarriage.

7. I want to get my doctorate in I/O psychology.

8. I don't feel guilty about forgiving my ex-husband, nor do I feel guilty about sending him a Christmas card (because it's the season and that's what Jesus would freakin' do). Nor do I feel guilty about not wanting to talk to him.

9. I worry about too much and I tend to overprocess stuff in my head. I'm okay with that.

10. I want to make a difference in the world. In what section of the world, I have no idea.

11. I am ticked off at myself for procrastinating on the book I've been wanting to write.

12. When I was little, I loved watching Abbott and Costello movies and Creature Double Feature with my Dad. Channel 48 rocked my world, until I discovered MTV.

13. I love to cook. Baking is another story.

14. I can make people laugh, and I cherish that talent. Granted, I'm no Robin Williams, but I can still put smiles on faces.

15. I hear Tuscany is pretty. I want to go visit and eat pasta with the peeps there.

16. The orginal "16 things about me" still apply.

And So The Christmas Season Begins...

2008-11-24T17:39:00.002-05:00

Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates.

"In honor of this holy season," Saint Peter said, "you must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven."

The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. "It represents a candle," he said.

"You may pass through the pearly gates," Saint Peter said.

The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, "They're bells."

Saint Peter said, "You may pass through the pearly gates."

The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women's panties.

St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow and asked, "And just what do those symbolize?"

The man replied, "These are Carols."

And So The Christmas Season Begins . . .

Epiphany by Way of Lilly Pulitzer

2008-11-23T22:46:00.004-05:00

This week, I had an e-mail exchange with my ex-sister-in-law. She and I get along very well, so it wasn't a 'grrrowl' kind of conversation. It was more of a 'hey - haven't talked to you in a while and wanted to see how you're doing' type of conversation. Admittedly, I haven't reached out in a while. I've been somewhat happily distracted with trying to restrain myself from buying every baby item in sight for my niece Lily (and failing miserably), and with the growing relationship I have with Manfriend.

During this pleasant e-mail exchange, I found out that the ex will be hosting Thanksgiving at his house. This elicited three reactions from me: surprise, laughter (because I can't imagine the ex getting together any sort of holiday feast) and a lot of hurt feelings. The third reaction caught me off-guard. It was a very 'when Harry met Sally' moment. I sat there and stared at the words in the e-mail and thought to myself in all the years we were married, I can't really remember a time where he actively wanted a family gathering at our house. Then I realized - that's because he didn't want holidays at our house. He wanted them at his house. With his family.

For every moment I feel like I'm on track and that I am past all of the heartache, something like this surfaces. And, peeps, I gotta tell you: It sucks.

I needed something to pull me out of the funk, and as fate would have it, retail therapy helped me. On Saturday, I went with my cousin's wife and her friend to the Lilly Pulitzer warehouse sale. I've never owned a single piece of Lilly Pulitzer clothing. The line is very bright, and laden with pinks and greens. Very girly-meets-golfpro. I'm feminine, and very much like being a girl, but I wouldn't describe my style as preppy in the least.

The warehouse sale opened my eyes to a new perspective. Sure, there were the pink-and-green-paisley-flowery-overloaded pieces, but there were also bold, feminine solids and prints, too. I was pleasantly surprised, and managed to walk away with some really nice pieces for myself, as well as for my niece (yep - failed to restrain myself) and for my friend's five year old daughter.

I also walked away realizing it's okay to be sad. It's okay for me to be irritated. But it's also time to turn over a new leaf. Why wallow in the past, when the past wasn't that great? Why live there and get angry over things I can't change?

I can't say I was instantly 100% yippie-skippy happy, but I know the last five years did not look good on me. Sure, this new time in my life isn't what I expected. But...it's looking pretty good.

It's That Time of the Year Again!

2008-11-18T22:23:00.003-05:00

WOW! It's cold outside. Of course, it is late November. (Seriously, where did this year go?)

Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the corner. While we'll be enjoying many holiday feasts, there are many who won't be as lucky, which is why I love WMMR's Preston and Steve. For the past several years they have hosted the Campout For Hunger campaign. All donations benefit Philabundance, a terrific organization.

Click here for further details: http://www.wmmr.com/pages/pages.php?page=97.

There are two ways to donate this year:

Donations will be accepted Monday through Thursday from 6am to about 9pm, and Friday, December 5th from 6am to 10am, at the Metroplex Shopping Center in Plymouth Meeting, PA.

You can also donate throughout November if you can't make it to the Plymouth Meeting location with the Camp Out Head Start Program.

Acceptable and most needed non-perishable food items include: (Pop Top Lids are always welcome) Canned / Shelf Stable Tuna, Canned Beef Stew, Canned Chili, Canned Pasta, Beef Ravioli, 100% Fruit & Vegetable Juice (Shelf Stable, Cans or Plastic Bottles only), Creamy Peanut Butter (Plastic Containers only), Jelly (Plastic Containers only), Mac & Cheese, Canned Pork & Beans/Baked Beans, Canned Green Beans, Canned Corn, Canned Fruit Cocktail, Breakfast Cereal or Hot Cereal, Boxed Sugar and non-perishables that won't go bad too soon.

For the past three years, I've gone and dropped off bags of food. The Giant in the Metroplex makes it easy, too, by making up $10 bags you can purchase and drop off at the Camp Out site.

If you're in the area, I hope you'll stop by and make a donation. Not only is it for a good cause, but it's great big fun, too. Last year: I saw Jedi Knights.

Surviving the Talky-Talk

2008-11-16T21:46:00.003-05:00

I know, dear readers, you may not be able to understand this, but I am not so good with expressing my emotions and feelings in person. Not good with the talky-talk at all.

On this blog, it's easy. There's no human face I have to confront. It's merely a computer screen. I can get as angry, silly or expressive as I want, and feel safe. Words flow through my fingers onto the screen. I can take it all out on the keyboard. Ahhh. There is relief.

In person I have Talker's Block, especially when I feel upset. When I'm feeling hurt - even if I know the issue is minimal or completely stupid - it means there is an opportunity for me to lose control. There's also that fear I will lose the other person's love, respect, or friendship. I don't like being out of control, or being vulnerable. So when I am upset, I shut down.

I did that during the last five years of my marriage, and being unhappy took a physical and emotional toll on me. I swore I would not allow that to happen again, and speak up if I was upset about anything.

Embracing the talky-talk requires a lot of bravery. It's a challenge, with the Talker's Block. The talky-talk gets stuck in my throat, and fear takes over.

I am trying not to do that with Manfriend. I find it to be difficult, to have that voice, to say things like "I'm disappointed" for fear the person to whom I say it won't give a shit. Or that I'm not worth it to finish the conversation.

Right now, my talky-talk voice sounds more like me being short and wanting to pick a fight, when the last thing I want to do is pick a fight. Because I hate fighting. Because fighting requires talky-talk. Combine the Talker's Block with Auntie Flow, and I become downright moronic.

Luckily for me, Manfriend is a smart boy. He is intuitive. He's also kind-hearted and patient. I got called out of line when God was handing out intuition and patience, so I'm fascinated when I see it in other people.

As I said in the previous post, I slurped down a great big giant bowl of Brain Fart during Auntie Flow's last visit. I was moody. Over nothing. Well - that's not true. I built something up in my head (and, damn it was fantastic) and when it didn't happen I took it out on Manfriend by being short on the phone, in instant messaging and by being snarky in general.

Cynicism has been in my arsenal of tools when building emotional walls, so it's readily available 24 by 7.

Smart boy that he is, he called me on it. And we talked. And he had the words for all the things I had difficulty in expressing.

You know what? It was like a mini flood gate. I actually was able to form words, and get out all the emotional stuff.

You know what else? It felt good.

You wanna know what else?
Huh?

No one got hurt in the making of this discussion.

I survived the conversation. I found out things about us, too, that were all good things. I found out that as much as I was disappointed, he was, too. That as much as I had looked forward to the thing in my head that I wanted to be reality, he did, too. That he's a talker, and I need to talk more. (Ok, that wasn't much of a revelation.)

So, I made it through my first foray into the talky-talk. And, God! Am I happy. Who knew talking could make things better?

Yeah, yeah - you all did. I know.

Shut it.

Attack of the Brain Fart...

2008-11-13T23:55:00.003-05:00

Auntie Flo sometimes brings many visitors with her, as I've explained before in this blog. Remember Uncle Cranky? Eat Everything in Sight?

Yeah, well...I forgot to mention one other item that accompanies her: Brain Fart.

Brain Fart makes me either forgetful or stupid. This month, it made me a big bowlful of stupid. And I slurped it up.

I warned Manfriend I would have my crazy moments, and I unleashed a whole bunch of it tonight on him. And now...he wants to talk about it. Oy. I'm good at putting words to paper. Sometimes a little too good. And I made a mountain out of a molehill tonight. Actually, I made a mountain out of an imaginary molehill. Not so good with the talky-talk. I'm grateful he is, and I'm sure I'll be listening most of the time and trying to beg out of the conversation with offering all the food I have in my house to him.

How about coffee?

Diet coke?

Pepperoni?

Provolone?

Pickles?

American cheese wrapped in plastic?

All I can say is...it was a weird night. I was feeling a little insecure, and thanks to my big bowl of stupid, I unleashed a by-product worse than any fart either of my dogs could produce, the green-eyed monster:

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!

It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on.

I am happily smitten with Manfriend. He knows this. I know this. And then...Auntie Flo plants the Brain Fart bowl in front of me. Slurp.

So, Manfriend...you were warned I would have my moments of insanity. Thank goodness you are level-headed.

I'm glad Auntie has packed the last of her tricks for this month and is on her way out, because I need a break from the Brain Fart. It has made me a bit addle-brained, and I'd like to be the intelligent, reasonable human being I normally am most days.

Wife Moved On...with Cake and Friends...

2008-11-13T23:26:00.007-05:00

I had a nice time on Saturday with girlfriends and family in officially saying goodbye to my previous life.

And I did it with cake! Mmmmmm...chocolate chip...

Doesn't this cake look awesome? Well...it was. Despite my best efforts of sending large chunks of it home with guests, I still had a bit left. I just finished eating the rest of it last night. And I loved every sugar-coma bit of it.

The moment of being with friends and saying goodbye to the bad part of my marriage (especially the end) was just as sweet as the cake. There was nothing bitter about the moment. No angry moments. I think it's because I'm reaching happy.

Well...yay, me!

Two Rights and a Weft

2008-10-19T21:09:00.004-04:00

As always, I had fun with my girls on Saturday. We've decided to make an annual tradition out of going to Eastern State Penitentiary's Terror Behind the Walls. It's never a dull moment, and we're all equally impressed with how well it is run.

As I've said in previous posts, Saturday was what would have been my 11th wedding anniversary. My sister sent me a text saying she was thinking of me on Friday, which was really nice of her.

Be proud of me: I only broke down twice.

At the vet's as I was waiting for her to come in to check on my poor dog Pep who broke into hives, I started to think about what the day was, and had myself a good cry.

I also broke down after Manfriend came over, picked me up, went grocery shopping with me, bought me red roses, carried in my groceries and took out my trash as I put stuff away. I stood there at one point in amazement. We went to the grocery store, and we didn't get huffy or pissy with one another. We had our lists. We grabbed what was on our lists. We paid for our groceries. We packed his car. No incidents. None. Huh. No kidding. It was a fabulous domestic date.

I know this looks like a no-brainer. Uh, hello? Cheryl? It's food shopping. But, my ex-husband and I were not good co-grocery shoppers. We were fine individually, but put us together to shop for food - forget it.

Before Manfriend left, he gave me a bear hug and a kiss, and told me if I needed anything to call him. He's a total sweetheart. I love he's so willing to be available. And I don't mean like a taxi-cab kind of available. I mean, mentally available.

Yes, I'm gushing. I'm okay with that. But, it was again overwhelming, and as soon as he walked out the door, I cried. I cry at his kindness, because it is simply wonderful. Eventually I will get over the crying phase, but for now, it's what I do in reaction to what he does.

Back to girls night out: The girls arrived at 6:00, and we had dinner which consisted of lasagna (not mine, restaurant-purchased) and garlic bread, and dessert, which consisted of munching down a bunch of halloween candy and chatting it up in my kitchen. I was having such a good time I threw it out there we could ditch Terror Behind the Walls and just drink and chat. But, I had purchased the tickets, and the girls looked like they wanted to go out, so we piled into my car and drove to Broad and Spring Garden Streets to take the Ghost Bus to Eastern State Penitentiary.

As we were waiting to board the Ghost Bus, J told us a story, and it made me laugh so hard I snort-laughed. The two guys in front of us whipped their heads around, saw that I was the one snort-laughing, and said that the noise eminating from me was "impressive." When we entered the attraction, J got the attention of one of the zombies who followed her to two parts of the prison. This happened last year, too, as a zombie dressed in a zoot suit followed her through a room. Creepy and funny all at once. I 'laugh-screamed' every five minutes. T actually screamed a few times, too, which was terrific. It was so worth it.

When we left the Terror Behind the Walls and walked back to our parking, an Escalade drove by us, and all of a sudden we heard from the SUV: "Hey! Heeeey! I remember YOU!" and with that, we heard, "SNORT!" The guy actually made a pig snort noise.

Nice that my snort-laugh makes a lasting impression.

My jaw dropped. I waved, and told the guy to rock on as he and his group sped away. I thought T was going to wet her pants from laughing. J just stood there and shook her head. Ah, Philly. Yet another place of weirdo magnetism.

We get to the parking lot, and since I had forgotten to print out reverse directions, I asked the parking attendant for directions to 76 West. As he's explaining, he says, "Ok, so you go down this road, make a right. Go up two lights, make a right. Go to this light, and make a weft. So, basically, it's two rights and a weft."

Weft?

"Girls," as we pull out of the parking lot, "Did he say weft?" "Yep, weft."

Ookeedokee. Thank you. For a moment, I thought that I misheard him because I had a full bladder and couldn't concentrate on anything else other than getting home to pee .

Nope. Weft.

As we sat in traffic on 76, I thought about all the great stories of the day, and not one of them involved me in the fetal position in my bed being devastated by this milestone.

I survived.
I had a great day.
All of this is just the start of great days ahead.

Thank Goodness! I Thought The B*tch Would Never Leave...

2008-10-16T22:45:00.003-04:00

Yeah, the title's a little harsh, but I'm talking about all of womankind's least favorite relative: Auntie Flow.

While I appreciate her monthly visits, lemme tell you what. She came with house guests this month: Uncle Cranky, Cousin Panic Attack, and her kid Eat Everything In Sight.

Uncle Cranky was pretty fierce this month. I grumbled about everything - my work, my house, my laundry, my job, other people's jobs, and other people's lives. Uncle Cranky also comes with permanently furrowed brow. I seriously consider Botox when I look in the mirror and see my brow lines emblazoned in my forehead. Then I think what Botox is made of - ahem, botulism (ew) - and I'm perfectly happy with permanently furrowed brow, which I'm now referring to as my character lines.

So Uncle Cranky can suck it...

Cousin Panic Attack hit me last night, and was kind enough to bring intensive chest pains and uncontrollable tears for no apparent reason. She knows how much I enjoy uncontrollable tears during PMS so she brought extra. Luckily for me, manfriend has lovely arms and great bear hugs to squeeze all the rest of the tears out of me.

Finally, my favorite Auntie Flow relative, Eat Everything In Sight, did not disappoint. I think I scared the manfriend this week as I chomped down on things like pancakes the size of our heads, practically swallowed whole a Tasty Kakes Junior in about two minutes, and menacingly slurped my Egg Drop Soup from PF Chang's in his presence.

I have no shame in my game, so I'll just say it: I love Eat Everything In Sight, the fattening bastard.

What I learned this month: I was at my worst these past two weeks (I count in PMS time - I would have to be locked up if my menstrual cycle lasted for two weeks) and it was okay. It's okay to have days like this. It's okay to be sad, angry, bloated, panicked, scared, cranky, miserable and blubbery.

And now that I've said it's okay to be sad, angry, bloated, panicked, scared, cranky, miserable and blubbery, all of these have to leave with Auntie Flow and her entourage.

Go away. Now. Buh-bye. Even Eat Everything In Sight. Pack your things. Get!

The Romantic Road

2008-10-15T00:13:00.003-04:00

I find myself in a very interesting place in life:

Divorced.

What would have been my 11th wedding anniversary coming up in a few days.

And...smitten.

Yeah. Didn't see smitten happening. Didn't see it coming at all. But, now that it's here, it's quite lovely.

House Beautiful

2008-10-14T23:58:00.007-04:00

My Dad, bless his heart, has completed painting the rooms in my house! Yay, me! He did such a fabulous job that I had to share. The following are pictures of my living room, dining room, family room, guest room and laundry room. As you can see, I like color!!!

The Steel Anniversary

2008-10-09T22:46:00.009-04:00

My wedding anniversary date is just around the corner. It would have been our 11th year. The traditional anniversary gift for 11 years is steel. I would have most likely figured out a way to incorporate that into the gift I would have purchased.

Now I'm steeling myself for all of the emotional crap.

A few months ago - even a few weeks ago - I thought to myself: I don't want to see anyone on that day. I just want to be alone with my thoughts. It's the first of many milestones I'll have to deal with this year, and I don't want anyone seeing me. I'll probably be a mess.

Well, dear friends, I've decided not to be in mourning on that day. But I will be surrounded by steel! My two partners in fun, shopping and friendship and I are going to the Eastern State Penitentiary's Terror Behind The Walls attraction. It's the remains of the prison - just a bit jazzed up and scary as all get out during the Fall.

From the Eastern State Penitentiary web site:

Opened in 1829 as part of a controversial movement to change the behavior of inmates through "confinement in solitude with labor," Eastern State Penitentiary quickly became one of the most expensive and most copied buildings in the young United States. It is estimated that more than 300 prisons worldwide are based on the Penitentiary's wagon-wheel, or "radial" floor plan.

Some of America's most notorious criminals were held in the Penitentiary's vaulted, sky-lit cells, including bank robber Willie Sutton and Al Capone. After 142 years of consecutive use, Eastern State Penitentiary was completely abandoned in 1971, and now stands, a lost world of crumbling cellblocks and empty guard towers.

Yeah, okay...maybe that description isn't exactly appealing, but we had such a blast last year. I screamed-laughed my head off as the other two girls led the way through the one-hour tour. As is custom, we'll also most likely be shivering from the pouring rain that also occurs every single time we go out. I'm not kidding! Most times, we have to go and get towels and wring our clothes out. Maybe in our previous lives we were rain makers.

I have a picture of the three of us from last year. We are freezing our butts off, and soaked to the bone, and yet you'd never know it. We're smiling ear to ear in the shot.

This year, I'm especially looking forward to it. The girls will be coming to my house, kicking a frozen margarita bucket, and staying over for girl talk and some fun time away from regular responsibilities as moms and wives.

For every memory that makes me sad, there are two that make me realize I'm going to be okay.

Now, if I can just figure out a good hangover remedy...

Kickin' It Circa 1980s...

2008-10-09T22:23:00.002-04:00

Best Buy is awesome. I went there with my manfriend and perused the music aisles. I left with about $60 worth of music (5 CDs).

While I did buy Feist, The Killers and Apocalyptica...I also went old school (meaning pre-iPod days...sigh...). I bought Michael Jackson's Number Ones CD and a compilation Def Leppard CD, too.

It's October. It's Halloween season. What better way to rock out but to Thriller? As I was dancing in my car, I thought of the scene from 13 Going on 30. Yeah, Michael Jackson's more than a bit odd, but man could he make some great dance music. I don't care who you are - how do you not want to get up and dance?

Enjoy the video, thanks to YouTube:

The Happiest Place on Earth

2008-10-05T20:19:00.002-04:00

I had the best vacation a couple of weeks ago. I could not have asked for more, even when I had the opportunity to do so.

For the first time in the bazillion times I've been to Disney World in Orlando, I met the Fairy Godmother. It was a pretty cool moment, standing there with her.

I think if I had met her seven months ago, I would have given her a laundry list of wishes:

I would have wanted February 18, 2008 - the day my then-husband of 10 plus years told me he didn't want to be married anymore - to have been erased

I would have wanted a second chance at children

I would have wanted purpose to my life

I would have wanted lipo. (Hey, I didn't say the list would be completely without superficial wishes!)

Life isn't always perfect, but I am so grateful for what I have in mine. Granted, I cry now and again, but I smile more than I did a number of months ago.

So, when I saw the Fairy Godmother, I gave her a hug and smiled.

Back On Track for HealthyQuest 2008

2008-09-14T09:28:00.003-04:00

I've been moving away from my Healthy Choice regimen, and as a result, I put back on some weight. Granted, it's not a lot of weight, but...I was down to 40 pounds of weight lost, and now it's back up to 37 pounds.

Grr.

(This picture does not represent my actual weight, by the way. Or my feet. Ew.)

So, it's back to Healthy Choice meals and some quality time at the gym starting this week. Now, while today I'll be treating myself to some yummyness at the Texas Roadhouse (their sweet potatoes are out of this world), and I will be on vacation at the end of this week in Florida, I will be re-vamping my goals so that I lose another 10 pounds by the end of this year.

I simply won't go back to where I was six months ago. I had junk in the trunk, front and side to side. While I totally dig my curves, the lumps in between the curves simply weren't healthy.

So, if any of you out there have any tips for losing the last 10 pounds and maintaining the weight loss...I'm all ears...

Re-Emerging Into the Universe With Social Networks

2008-09-14T08:49:00.006-04:00

I am finding the world of social networks to be rather interesting. I thought this would be a very solitary time in my life, to be honest. Not lonely, but alone. I don't know if that makes much sense, but in my head it does. I mean, not to get all pathethic, but I really expected to be "that woman in the house with 12 dogs" people would talk about and wonder what her story is. I was prepared for it. I accepted it, and was almost happy about it. Almost. :-)

Any-hoo...

A friend of mine sent me a request to join Facebook, something I thought was for the teeny-boppers. I've reconnected to friends I had in high school, college and even my grade school. For as many "requests to connect" I've sent out, I've received equal amounts of "Remember me?" postings. It's really been quite wonderful to catch up with people. I'm not a person that generally would entertain going to a high school reunion...EVER...so this way to say hello and talk to people I remember fondly has been a real hoot!

There's also a professional network site which I've been a member of for years. It's called LinkedIn. According to its About Us section, LinkedIn is an online network of more than 25 million experienced professionals from around the world, representing 150 industries. It's terrific for expanding your professional connections and opportunities. (Plaxo Pulse is, too, by the way.) When you register, you post your work experience and education on-line, and then it's smart enough to send you a list of "People You Might Know."

As per each week, I sign onto LinkedIn, and it gives me this list. This particular time around, they gave me a person I actually did know from college. I met him when I was a freshman at college; he was dating a good friend of mine from high school, and I briefly dated his roommate. As is typical, we all went our separate ways. Generally speaking, when I request to connect in LinkedIn with professional contacts who were also friends, the response I get is an Accept and a simple "Hello! How are you?" comment and that's about the end of it, and vice versa when people connect to me. So, I was pleasantly surprised when this contact said "Hello! How are you?" and then proceeded to send me a detailed e-mail on the events of his life. I caught him up on what's been new (you know, for the past 15 years), and then followed up with an Instant Message thanking him for sending me such a nice e-mail. We wound up continuing the conversation on IM for about an hour and a half. As much as I like IM, I'm a listener, so not being able to read a person's body language or facial responses in response to what they are saying doesn't always give me enough information.

So...I was brave. I asked this person if they'd like to meet me after work and get caught up. I thought of him as a friend then, and it appears 15 years didn't change that opinion.

We met, had drinks and dinner, and wound up talking for five and a half hours. Over the course of two weeks, we've had more conversations, more dinner, and more laughter than either one of us has had in a while.

It's...nice...in a very "huh? what just happened?" kind of way.

While I may never see the majority of the people to whom I've reconnected, it's interesting that when people post comments and messages, it's still in their voices that I remember from many years ago.

I'm An Auntie!

2008-09-14T08:42:00.004-04:00

On September 6, 2008, I became an aunt!

My sister and her husband are proud parents to Miss Lily Isabel. She's a tiny, feisty girl, and doing well. She's a preemie, so she'll be in the NICU for a little while, but all indications are she's more of a Tiger Lily than a shy flower.

If I do say so myself, she's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.

The Beginning of Cheryl's Next Chapter

2008-09-14T08:24:00.003-04:00

It's been a while since I've posted anything here, mostly because it had been quiet on this western front.

Then, blam-o!

My divorce is final. The Court issued the divorce decree on August 20, 2008. I found out August 28, 2008, via my BlackBerry device. My attorney's office issued their final bill via e-mail on the 28th, for which I was extremely grateful. My attorney was totally kick-ass, but I paid for kick-ass.

During the e-mail exchange, I asked the paralegal if she had heard anything about the status of the Decree, and she replied generally the Decree takes about 4 - 6 weeks from the time the Praecipe is delivered to the Court. We had submitted the Praecipe about three weeks from August 28th, so I thought, ok, a few more weeks, and I can get closure. I had been told in other cases it may take as long as 3 months for this to occur, too, so I was relatively happy about the 4 - 6 week estimate. Not more than five minutes after the paralegal's e-mail, I received an e-mail from my attorney, saying she actually had the paper copy of my Divorce Decree, and I've been divorced since August 20th.

Huh. Interesting.

I stared at my BlackBerry screen for about five minutes. In my head, the Divorce Decree issuance would be documentation with a gold seal in a bulky package. Nope. Not in my county. A simple e-mail, followed by a single sheet of paper from the Court saying the marriage is dissolved.

Over ten years of marriage dissolved with a single piece of paper.

Poof.

Done.

What I thought would be an emotional breakdown was a shrug of the shoulders. Please understand: I am sad this had to be the way it was. But, as people told me, I knew it was coming, so I probably had enough time to process it, over-process it, and get the closure I needed by the time I received the official Decree.

So, August 20th marks the beginning of the next chapter of my life. Wife. Goes. On.

My Warm, Fuzzy, Scratchy Weekend

2008-08-18T19:19:00.006-04:00

(Art source: http://jenspin.blogspot.com)

I took a vacation day last Friday and visited friends from work during the long weekend.

Huh. Ironic.

Thursday night, I drove to Long Beach Island to stay with one friend, who also had her (ex) sister-in-law (she was married to the sister-in-law's brother for 25 years before he lost his ever-lovin' mind and had an affair) and (ex) brother-in-law staying with her. Her house is a gorgeous six-bedroom guest and party house approximately 1.5 blocks from the beach. Sweeeeeeet!

The next day, we walked around LBI and they talked about their favorite restaurants, amusement park, miniature golf place, memories with their kids...and restaurants. (We are Italian-American. We like our food. )

We made it to the beach, and when her sister-in-law and brother-in-law went into the ocean for a dip, my friend explained to me they were childhood sweethearts. He loved her from the very moment he saw her, and even when she broke up with him during high school at one point and dated other guys, he never stopped loving her.

Ok, look. I've been somewhat cynical over the past few months, especially when conversation wanders to romance and relationships. But, for whatever reason, their story pulled at my heartstrings, and I got that warm and fuzzy feeling for the first time during the weekend.

I have to say, they were sweet to one another. She would get him plums - or anything else he wanted to eat (I envy his metabolism); he would wait for her patiently as she stopped at yard sale tables during our walk. The sister-in-law said to me at one point marriage is a crapshoot, and that she and her husband felt blessed to have the kind of relationship they have. Indeed. They seemed genuinely happy. How great is that?

I left LBI with a sunburnt tummy on Friday night, and then called my other friend who had been asking me to come visit him and his wife on their boat in Bayville, NJ since the beginning of the summer. I told him I would be there Saturday morning. I was thinking 11; he said "Great! See you at 9:30!"

Oy.

I managed to get up at 6am, shower and whimper as the water hit particularly sunburnt parts, and drive there with 10 minutes to spare. As he prepared the boat (which was an immaculate 32-ft Chris Craft - it looks similar to the picture here) his wife showed me to the facilities and happily told me about their dock. When all was ready, he and his wife worked as a team to steer out into the bay, read maps, and anchor the boat when they found an ideal spot.

As I roasted on the front of the boat - you know, so I was pan-seared front and back - I caught glimpses of them cozying up together and looking at pictures on their digital camera. My friend likes to play it up and say sarcastic things about being married for 22 years and dating for 30, but it was clear they care for one another. Again, gave me the warm and fuzzies.

As I drove home that night, swearing to myself I didn't need that much 'color' ever again as I looked at my poor, red and burning skin, I thought about those two moments of kindness, friendship and love.

They gave me hope.

I wish that hope had come with common sense. I woke up this morning, my back sore from the section of it where I missed placing sunscreen, and my arms itchy as all get out.

Lessons learned here: True love and happiness is attainable. Sunscreen higher than SPF 4 will get you the tan you want and protect your skin at the same time. *whimper*

Cake Wrecks

2008-08-18T19:07:00.003-04:00

Ok, this is just funny: http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/

I want to know who ordered the cake shaped like a foot with rotted toenails.

Seriously?

Daydreaming Dilbert Style

2008-08-13T08:18:00.005-04:00

There are days where I am totally feeling Alice's vibe. She's a character from Scott Adams' Dilbert cartoons. With all the change going on in my life, it's made me think about what I really want to do: hobbies, career, etc. I'd like to have a change where I decided to make it happen, not where factors outside of my control forced me into a change I didn't necessarily want for myself.

So, I'm thinking the book I've been meaning to write has to become the book I will write. I think the dream job is out there somewhere, but I have to create it. I may go back to school or take a few art classes. Who knows.

My WTF? Moment...

2008-08-11T18:54:00.003-04:00

So, today was weird.

I had a very disturbing weirdo magnet moment at my local home improvement store this morning.

I went there to pick up paint for the house (my Dad is motoring with the paint jobs – he’s doing the hallways this week). There was a grandpop-esque gentleman at the counter. He was a really nice guy. Called me hon. You know, the usual you would expect at a local home improvement store.

He prepared the paint, put the top on the can, and put a little dot of paint on top so I could see what it looked like. I thanked him and picked up the paint can.

The dot wasn’t dried, and I got paint on the sleeve of the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing. Instinctively, as a grandpop, he grabbed my sleeve, licked his two fingers, and proceeded to try to rub the paint out of my shirt.

I had no words.

I’m pretty sure putting spittle on a customer’s shirt is not in the customer code of conduct.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww.

He meant no harm. In a way, it was sweet...you know, other than smudging his spit on my shirt. I know it was Pop-Pop instinct. I know it was. But, at the same time...

*heebie jeebies*

Makes Me Want To Be A Kid Again....

2008-08-11T18:49:00.001-04:00

Can I Get a Halleluiah?

2008-08-02T12:50:00.005-04:00

It finally happened. Finally, finally, finally!

I took my normal "Dead Man Walking" approach to the scale this morning, and to my great joy I've hit my initial goal of 30-pound weight loss!

Yeeeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Now it's crunch time for the remaining 10 pounds for the rest of the year. I'm so happy!

Ooooo! Pretty...

2008-07-31T20:54:00.003-04:00

I am so beyond excited!

Dad painted the family room. I picked this fun, warm red. The room looks completely different, and I LOVE IT! He did a fantastic job. I also found pretty paisley curtain panels for $9.99 each for the family room windows, and they complete the look of the room.

Mom finished the curtains, and Dad and she hung them in the guest room on Sunday. They are so lovely. I can't wait to add the art work in the room, as well as get a day bed and desk in there.

Next, I will buy the paint for the other guest room. Friends are coming over Friday morning to put the magic mover things underneath some heavy furniture and move it to the center of the room so the room can be painted.

Summer Television Guilty Pleasures

2008-07-31T19:56:00.005-04:00

Season 5 of Project Runway is underway, and I have to say at first, ick. Wasn't happy. Wasn't impressed. This week changed my mind.

One of the designers, Leanne, was in the bottom two last week. This week - my personal opinion - she should have won the challenge. I would venture to say the judges tossed a coin to pick the winner. The skirt she created for her challenge was extraordinary. I would buy it tomorrow.

The winner, Kenley, designed something out of my 1980s closet, but there was something whimsical about it (see the picture below Leanne's design). So, while I don't blame the judges for picking it, the workmanship on Leanne's skirt - the scalloping - was just exquisite.

What I love about Project Runway is that it's like looking at living art. It's just amazing the talent they find each year. I'm getting over my gripe that some of these folks have been doing this for quite some time.

What makes me nuts this season: Suede. Suede is one of the designers, and don't get me wrong - he's got talent. But...

He talks about himself in the third person. As in "Suede likes what Suede did. Suede thinks Suede rocked this challenge out. Suede likes his model and Suede would never give her up."

Cheryl wants to throttle Suede. That's all Cheryl is saying.

My other guilty pleasure: Wipeout. Wipeout is a game show where people try to conquer ridiculous obstacle courses for $50,000. It's not so much what they do - it's what the commentators say about their efforts. I was at the gym last week when it was on, and I damn near fell off the treadmill laughing. One of the contestants was 19, weighed about 90 pounds, and was a self-proclaimed geek. He rocked the qualifying round. The commentator said it wasn't bad...for his first time outside. These guys KILL me! Love it. This game, while completely juvenile (the commentators talk about the 'big red balls' obstacle course with great glee), is a riot!

I totally dig game shows. Not so much reality shows (even though I do watch Project Runway), but I love a good game show. I find myself rooting for all the contestants, because they really put themselves out there. Good for them. I might need to add "Participating in a Game Show" to my goals!

The Mayor of the DMV

2008-07-31T19:16:00.005-04:00

On Tuesday, I had to go to the DMV to get my name change card. I can't remember the last time I've gone to the DMV for anything other than getting my driver's license photo taken.

I will say the people at the DMV could not have been nicer. All two of them.

Now, ask me how many people were waiting in line? Go ahead. Ask.

There were about 40 people when I arrived. Oh, and the building is about the size of a small happy meal box, and the line of people was wrapped around the building. Oh, and it was over 90 degrees outside. And there was no place to stand in the shade.

Oh, and it's the DMV, which means it's Wacko Central. Which means it's a beacon for my weirdo magnetism. The guy in front of me went into great detail about how his blood pressure was 117/172 (so I'm not sure how he's still alive), and how he got into a horrible car accident earlier in the year - which was a terrible shame. But, then, to add to the story - he had show 'n tell. Apparently the accident knocked out all his teeth, because he demonstrated to the woman in the unfortunate position of being directly behind him in line how he could drop out his top and bottom dentures. Blamo. One set of teeth drops, and then the other. Ta-da!

Ewwwwwwwww.

In addition, he was trying to make friends with everyone in line. Let me be clear: it was 90+ degrees, and it took me a total of two hours to get a name change card. I was in no mood for this guy. I managed to avoid eye contact. He did try to inform me how to do what I needed to get done - as with all the other people in the crowd. I later figured out why he was being so friendly with everyone: He needed a lift. He kept saying how he wasn't sure how he was going to get to the next town. The woman directly behind him started to give him directions, and he said, "Oh, I know how to get there. I just don't know how I'm going to get there. I hitchhiked here, and I need to hitchhike there." The guy in front of him subtlely moved as far away as he possibly could. Oy.

The woman in back of me was about the size of a Hobbit. She was just as interesting - and twice as annoying. Did I mention the heat? Well, she thought the best place to stand was right next to me. And I mean right. next. to. me. Grrr.

At one point, we were right outside the door, and the couple in front of me was kind enough to open the door so that we could get some air.

This is what happened next:
Hobbit: "Scuze meeeeeeeeee. Shut ze dooooor. Shut ze doooooooor. Hello? Scuze meeee."
Me: "Lady, we're getting air!"
Hobbit: "No, ju dun't understaaand. If dey leave ze door open, we will have no air for oos when we get in dere. Shut ze doooooor. (Repeat Shut ze doooor about 50 times.)"

I finally crawl inside, with the Hobbit attached to me.

Then:
Hobbit: "Ooo. I dun't know if I am in ze riiight line."
Me: "What are you here for?" (Obviously there were two meanings to my question...)
Hobbit: "My license expired."
Me: "You're in the right line."
Hobbit: "Are ju shure?"
Me: death glare

Then:
Hobbit: "Hey. Heeeey. Do ju know who I make ze check out to?"
Me: death glare "No, I don't."
Hobbit: "Ooooh. Cuz I dun't know who to make ze check out toooo. Ooohhh." whining ensues
Me: Ignores Hobbit for rest of the time in line.

I don't know how it happened, but I became the information center for the Hobbit. It was too darn hot for this much concentrated weirdo magnetism.

The good news is I have a new story for the book I'm writing. The better news is that I am one step closer to making my name change public. Woo-hoo!

Random Weekend Musings...

2008-07-20T21:12:00.002-04:00

The Stair Master is still evil. But, manageable. I was able to grunt, heave and stumble through a 15-minute session on the automated machine at my gym.
One. Frakin. LB. I am so close to 30lbs of weight loss, I can taste it. Unfortunately, it didn't taste quite as good as the Dairy Queen chocolate milk shake I had Saturday night. Hence relegating myself to said evil Stair Master on Sunday.
Viggo Mortensen is hot. And a total badass. I watched Eastern Promises on Saturday night. Not only is he a good actor, but he is ripped. There is not one ounce of fat on the man's body. Everyone who has seen this movie knows the scene I am referencing.
Mosquitoes suck. Literally and figuratively. I've been bitten twice this weekend. Bugs are really beginning to ruin my sense of calm.

The Stair Master is Evil

2008-07-18T22:39:00.005-04:00

During this time in my life, I needed a healthy distraction. I rediscovered the gym, primarily the treadmill.

About three weeks ago, I hit a weight-loss plateau. My friend suggested I try a different machine. I think they call it muscle confusion.

So, I tried the StairMaster. Once. The Stair Master, after two minutes, kicked my butt. I sent a text message to my friend informing him switching up the exercise routine SUCKED.

I loathe that machine.

However, if I expect to continue to break the plateau, I must return to it.

Here's the thing I don't get. The machine emulates walking up stairs. I walk up stairs all the time. I don't hate normal stairs! Seriously - not digging the Stair Master. It's evil. Evil!

Oh, and the eliptical machine is no treat, either.

Can you tell I'm cranky?

Funniest Man on the Planet (or on E!)

2008-07-18T22:25:00.005-04:00

I can't get enough of Joel McHale, the host of The Soup on E!

The guy is a frakin' riot. I remember John Henson, the original host from Talk Soup, and that show was funny. But Joel - Joel is pure evil. And really enjoys his role being completely devilish.

If you need a good laugh, this is the show. Just watch this collection of clips from the show:

Room, Interrupted

2008-07-15T22:02:00.007-04:00

My poor Dad. He's immersed in making the house my sort of beautiful. I wonder if all the 'pretty' stuff is making him nuts.

I found this beautiful blue-violet color to paint one of the guest bedrooms. It's called Aphrodite. It's the first time ever I've had a wall in the house that isn't painted white. Sure, the living room has a stenciled chair rail, but the primary wall color is white. And now - I have a room that is this magnificent shade of blue. Dad has put up a few strokes of the color, and I already find the room tranquil, warm and friendly. A place you'd want to stay for a while!

In addition, Mom has offered to sew curtains for the room. I found a very pretty fabric. It was on sale to boot! It reminds me of a print I saw on the cover of a Pottery Barn catalog. While the background is a pale shade of lime, there are vibrant colors - blues, violets, reds, greens - that are going to make the window pop.

It's going to be such a transformation from the room that housed all of my husband's computer equipment. It was all white and metal.

Pretty soon it will pop with color and light and texture.

I'll be honest. I wish my soon to be ex could see this room. I really think he would have liked it, despite the floral curtains that are about to cover the windows. In a way, it's such a surreal thing. That was always his room. His office. His.

Now it's mine. When it's done hopefully it will feel like mine. Right now, I feel like I'm walking into a hotel room renovation and admiring what's being done to the place. I'm not even sure what that room will become. Perhaps it will be a home office. Or maybe a guest room. Or maybe a combination home office and gym.

In any case, it will be the first room that welcomes me home. That's such a great feeling.

I. Can't. Breathe.

2008-07-14T21:09:00.005-04:00

*snort laughing*

Yes, admittedly - these 'motivational posters' are unkind. But, you've got to appreciate the bravery. Viva la difference!

Cooking Again!

2008-07-14T20:29:00.003-04:00

Sunday, my parents came over for dinner. I cooked a real meal. Not a Healthy Choice in the plastic bowl meal. A real, honest-to-goodness meal.

I could not even look at another piece of chicken, and red meat would not be kind to my stomach, so I went searching for the recipe for the other white meat - pork.

A while ago, someone recommended to me I purchase a cookbook from this place in Rochester, NY called the Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. The recipes in this book are simply amazing, and for mere mortals like me, easy to follow.

The following is the meal I made for my parents. It is from the cookbook called Dinosaur Bar B Que: An American Roadhouse. I used two substitutions, mostly out of necessity. The sauce, by the way, is so delicious, I believe it could be used for to snazzy up chicken breasts, too.

Apple-Maple Roasted Pork Loin

Ingredients

The Pork
1 pork loin with the rib bones attached, 3 1/2 to 4 pounds (I had to get a pork loin without the rib bones - my local store said they don't do the cut until the holidays)

The Rub
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon freshly cracked black pepper
Pinch of cayenne pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil

The Sauce (this is wonderful)
1/4 cup butter
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
Pinch each of kosher salt and black pepper
1 pound McIntosh apples, peeled, cored, and diced
3/4 cup pure maple syrup
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
3/4 cup Mutha Sauce (I didn't have the time to make this, so I used 3/4 cup of A1's Chicago Steakhouse Marinade)
1/4 cup water

The Garnish
3 tablespoons sliced scallion (I didn't use this)

Directions

Preheat the oven to 500 degrees F. Get the butcher to cut the chine bone from the roast for easy carving later. Mix up all the ingredients for the rub, and massage it all over the roast. Place the roast, rib side down, in a roasting pan and pop it in the oven. Cook for 30 to 40 minutes to caramelize the outside, then lower the heat to 350 degrees F and continue roasting slowly for another 25 - 30 minutes, til the internal temperature registers 150 degrees F.

Throw together the sauce while the pork is roasting. Melt the butter in a saucepan. Toss in the garlic and jalapenos with a pinch of salt and pepper, cooking til soft. Dump in the apples and give then a stir. Cook til soft but not mushy, 8 - 10 minutes. Add the maple syrup, cinnamon, allspice, Mutha Sauce (or in my case A1), and water, and simmer gently for 15 minutes. Keep warm.

Take the roast out of the oven and let it rest for 15 minutes. Slice the meat between the ribs into chops. Pour any meat juices that ooze out while carving into the sauce and stir it up a bit. Ladle some sauce onto each chop and sprinkle with scallions. Serve 'em up and pass the remaining sauce at the table. Feeds 6.

I'm Thinking Disney

2008-07-11T14:35:00.004-04:00

So, where do you go when your marriage will begin its end in approximately 13 days?

Disney World!

In the Fall, I will be heading to Disney World for the first time without my husband. I should be sad about it. But, I'm excited. I'm excited because two of my dear friends from college will be going with me, one of whom has never been to Disney - or to Florida for that matter.

There is nothing in the world, to me, as exciting as seeing Disney through someone who has never been there before. It's pure joy. I can't wait to see her face when she sees Cinderella's castle for the first time, or when she sees Mickey. I can't wait for my other friend to see the 'new' Disney World, as she hasn't been there since she was in the eighth grade.

I wish others could go with us this time around, too. But, it's not always easy to just escape. I'm one of the lucky ones.

My Food Cheat Week

2008-07-10T14:48:00.005-04:00

My aunt and uncle sent me a card a while back for my birthday. On the front, there was a happy-looking cupcake with a face made of candy. The tagline was:

"Life is so much better with a sugar buzz on."

No truer words have ever been recorded, especially this week for me.

Since March, I've been on the 'Diet-Divorce-Exercise' program, and have remained relatively consistent on eating healthy. Then the Fourth of July hit, and the above-mentioned aunt made this killer chocolate chip cake. Since there's no shame in my game any more, I ate two pieces, and they were gooooood. But, I did exercise that morning. I rely heavily on the concept of the 36-hour afterburn of calories that supposedly takes place. It's my nice little piece of denial heaven I visit regularly.

Don't judge me, dammit!

The next day, I attended a graduation party for my friend's daughter. And guess what? There was cake there, too. I had a sliver. It was chocolate chip cake, too. It was goooooooood.

Sunday, I had a hankering for something called Buffalo Chicken Dip. This concoction is just pure heaven, if eaten in moderation. If. Did I eat it in moderation? Noooooooooooo. And I paid for it - big time on Monday. All day. And yet, still went to the gym.

Tuesday, I was good with the food, bad with the no exercise.

Wednesday, I broke down again food-wise, went to the store and fed my candy Swedish fish and Heartland Cheddar veggie chips addictions and purchased both, and proceeded to eat both - for dinner.

Today, I swore to myself I would be good. Of course, that's before I remembered I was meeting a friend at P.F. Chang's today. I had soup, a appetizer-sized portion for lunch and had a dessert shot (it's a dessert they smush into a shot glass) they said was based on s'mores. I think they achieved sugar nirvana with that thing!

But, I did go to the gym! A-ha!

Despite all of this, I have managed to maintain my current weight loss of 26.5 pounds, which was no small feat on the DDE regimen. But I feel so much better, because life is so much better with a smile on!

Fitting into the New Old Name...

2008-07-09T13:11:00.003-04:00

I reclaimed my maiden name. My friends have been saying things like "that's so great you've gone back to it! Good for you!" I'm not sure how I feel about it.

How do I explain this?

It’s like rediscovering your skinny jeans in the back of your closet, putting them on, and determining if they fit again. That’s how I feel. I feel like I put my maiden name in the back of the proverbial closet, thinking I’d never wear the name again, because I was a happily married ‘married last name’. Then, when this happened, ‘married last name’ became a series of scarlet letters emblazoned on everything.

It would be different if I had children. It would have been a no-brainer, actually, for me. But, since we didn't have any, I changed my name. Or reclaimed it. Or embraced it. Or whatever.

While I haven’t had the name in such a long time, it’s wonderful and uncomfortable all at once that I have an option other than my married name.

Is that weird? To me, it’s weird. Wonderful, but weird. Because, my maiden name fits...I'm just not quite comfortable with it being comfortable.

100 Goals in 100 Weeks

2008-07-08T22:23:00.005-04:00

Perhaps you've seen him on television or heard something about the guy that sold his life. I kind of admire Ian Usher. Not only did he pick himself up after having his heart broken, but he allowed himself a do-over. How cool is that?

His original website, ALife4Sale, highlighted his belongings, life, work and friends - all so he could sell his life on eBay, walk out of his house, and start new.

As of June 29th, he's sold his house and furnishings, car, etc. Now what? He decided to set 100 goals for himself.

Check out his new site.

If you had the opportunity for a life do-over, what goals would you set for yourself? I've been thinking about that a lot lately.

Here's my list:

Reconnect to the world. I don't know where I went, but I'm ready to return. I want to start inviting family and friends over for things like dinner and movie night and margarita night.
Forgive myself. In this process, I've beaten the hell out of myself. I need to say 'enough.' Time to move forward. Not as easy as it looks...
Figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I know what I can do. Now I need to figure out what I want to do, and how to do it with some sense of job security.
Lose the weight, Tubby. Yeah, yeah. I know. Typical chick thing to say. But, while I really love my curves, my curves have had some lumps in between over the past few years. One of the by-products of the divorce process has been weight loss. I want to keep it up, and lose 40 pounds by the end of the year.
Go to the gym. See the above goal...
Write a book. Again this won't be a bitter broad story. I have a unique talent. Let's just say I'm a weirdo-whisperer. I don't mean 'weirdo' in a cruel way. I just find it fascinating that complete strangers will walk up to me and just start telling me stuff about their lives. It's never a dull moment, and I love every minute of it. But, before I start forgetting the stories, I want to write them down and share with all of the other weirdo-whisperers out there that they are not alone!
Go to Paris. Again. For the first time ever, I got to go to Paris this year. So, in the midst of the divorce nightmare, I went with my sister-in-law and got to see Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, Disneyland Paris, Notre Dame, and stroll down the Champs d'Elysees. I want to go again and make sure the experience really sinks in. Contrary to popular belief, the Parisians could not have been nicer. I can't wait to go back!
Bahston is Wicked-Haad Core. I've got to make up for lost time and make some trips to Boston to see my friends from college. I've made a point of seeing them once a year. I hope to do more visits.
Make the house my own. There will be color on the walls. None of them white.
Splurge and Purge. Ok, I will freely admit one of my favorite hobbies is to shop. I totally dig it. It's a complete rush. I get the greatest pleasure from buying other people gifts. I've decided that, as I purge the things I don't need, I'm going to buy myself gifts. For everything I purge, I will splurge. Now - does this mean I'm going to break the bank? No. It just means if I see a shirt and think it will look good on me, I'm buying it. So there.
Vegas, Baby! Never been there, but it looks like a lot of fun!
What's the rest of Europe like? I need to, before I die, see Italy, Scotland, England, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, and anything else that peaks my interest.
Go to a NFL game. In all my years in Philly - the greatest football town in America! - I have not been to a game at the Vet or the Linc. Ever. What's up with that?
Meet Oprah. Why not, right?
Go skydiving. Anyone who knows me knows I am snort-laughing in my chair right now. It just seems better than saying getting some sleep...