The Hap, Happiest Season of All

So, I don't typically blog twice in a week.  But, this morning I'm fighting the holiday grumps due to loads of stress and little sleep.  I'm in the business of making holiday magic and sometimes it all gets overwhelming.  In order to fight the Scrooge in me and put on a happy face I started thinking of some of my favorite holiday memories.  All of them from the first of December to New Years Eve.  And I found myself laughing so hard on the way in to work that I thought I'd just share.

I'll start with a family memory.  Christmas at my house .  My dad always worked on Christmas  however, on and around the holidays, no matter how tired he was, the Christmas tree came up and family photos were taken as we squished on to a sofa, smiled, and waiting for 5-7 days for the prints to be ready at Sak-N-Save grocery store. Recently my mom emailed some of the photos.  I laid in bed on a Saturday night and looked through each file, laughing the entire time.  Hindsight is 20/0, but still you'd think we'd have enough sense to realize we looked stupid.  But alas, we did not and now these photos offer hours of entertainment as we lament on Christmas Past.

Exhibit A:  I refer to this as "Hurry Up the Timer is About to Go Off"

Mom's gonna kill me for this!

While Dawn (my sister) and I were looking over this picture, she says "Geez, did you and I just get out of the shower of what???"  Apparently we were fans of Lionel Richie because we were sporting his Jerry Curl (as seen below.  This is NOT, however, Lionel Richie.  Just his hair)  

Hey, girl, hey!

My dad's face kills me every time I look at at this picture.  He was so concerned about capturing the right moment that he ended up looking stressed.  And my mom!  Oh...my...god. The word smile wasn't in her vocabulary that day.  Perhaps it was the over-sized glasses that put her in a bad mood, but I'm guessing it was two unruly preteens making her feel like she was in the 9th circle of hell.  This photo is timeless and priceless to me.

Another favorite memory is one particular Christmas when Dawn and I were both teenagers.  We grew up in Baytown, TX on the bayou in  a proper Southern Baptist Church.  Of course each year there was the Christmas Eve candle light service that typically kicked off the night for most of the church families.  You'd go to the service, light your candles, trade cards and cookies, then go home to begin the family portion of the night.  It was the same for us - service then to Grandma's house, then to our own home, then to bed.  Well, this year Dawn and I were left on our own to get there on time as Mom and Dad were singing in the choir for the evening's events.  Dawn was driving at this point so we had wheels but, suddenly we became every distracted.  Already dressed in our nearly matching outfits and gazing at the clock to be sure we were keeping a responsible schedule, Dawn turns on the television to prepare the VCR to record the In Living Color: Christmas Special.  Oops.  It was already running and while she frantically tried to get the tape ready, we both managed to sit down right in front of the t.v. and start watching, not realizing it was already past 7:00 pm.  Shit.  We are late.  Oh well!  We sat, legs crossed Indian style, on the floor and watched the program missing the entire Christmas Even candle light service.  The phone started ringing off the hook.  We both knew it was Mom and Dad and we were in hell-a trouble.  But it didn't deter us from finishing the one hour comedy.  Nope!  We watched the whole program and then, when that was over, something else came on as we were supposed to be making our way to Grandma's!  We eventually made it to her house and the parents...well, they were upset.  To understand the weight of their frustration, refer back to the photo above. See Mom's face?  Ya.  That's pretty much what we got all night.  However, all night long Dawn and I kept reenacting the comedy from In Living Color with one another while dodging Mom's disapproving looks.   SNAP!

I also have a ton of favorite memories that include my friends - of course!  One in particular wasn't very fun at the time, but days and years later it makes me just die from laughing.  One Christmas Eve Tuller, Nathan, and myself decided to have a  tiny Martini party - just the three of us at her home (where I happen to live now.)  We bought too much vodka for three people, made dinner, and poured drinks down our throat as if we were competing in a Holiday drinking contest with Charlie Sheen.  Oh what fun it was....until it wasn't.  I'm not sure how many drinks we finished off, but a couple of hours into it, faces were turning green and the fun had just ceased.  One by one we made our way to soft places, i,e, beds, sofas, a pile of blankets on the floor, and passed out wearing all of our clothes.  The next morning was just awful.  I woke to the smell of meat.  What?  Why do I smell MEAT?  Nathan was nowhere to be found and as I made my way into the kitchen, I could hear what sounded to be that tell tale grunt of someone swallowing down the urge to vomit.   I walked into the kitchen to find Tuller's hands were covered in raw meat as she was pulling it off bones to prepare it for a roast.  Her face looked utterly victimized and she continued to fight through the dry heaving.  See, she had volunteered to make a roast for her family's Christmas dinner and in the heat of a vodka induced mayhem, she kinda forgot that a hangover and a pile of meat don't mix well the next day. I wish I had a photo of her because the way I remember it, she's standing in the kitchen, mascara smeared down her face, hair all over the place, and her hands in a big pile of raw meat,trying not to blow chunk  Ewww.   Mer....Merry....blugh.  Merry Christmuuuuuuus.

Another fond memory was made quite recently- only last year.  I took my dear friend Claudio home to Texas.  It wasn't on Christmas, but it was in the height of the Christmas season.  He decided one night he had HAD to see  Houston.  Well, at the time we both worked for Tulsa Ballet and couldn't take time off to go down for any reasonable amount of time.  So, instead we left immediately after work one night and drove 8 hours straight until we reached the pearly gates of Summerwood - the neighborhood just off Beltway 8 where my parents reside.  We got in around 3 a.m. and quickly took rest in, what we called" Lilac Haven", a guest bedroom in my parent's house so named due to the purple sheets, curtains, and bedspread. My parents were asleep when we arrived and left the code so we could get in and get to bed as we were exhausted from the drive.  The next morning I walked into the living room to find my mom smiling and welcoming me.  She showed me the pantry where my dad had stocked up on Nutella so the Italian would feel at home.  It was really too cute of Dad.  Since we only had a day and a half to spend in Houston, the weekend was pretty full and quick.  Kind of like watching an entire movie in fast forward mode.  Nevertheless we had a lot of fun, did loads of sight seeing, and ended up having a real bayou dinner under the bridge in Kemah.  Most of the time was spent in car with Dawn acting as our guide.  She drove us around showing Claudio landmarks and historical sights peppered with facts and statistics. On the second and final night we stayed with my sister and Diane at their apartment.  The four of us spent a few hours laughing and just being stupid but the kind that makes your abs hurt the next morning from too much joy.  Finally, it was Sunday afternoon and time for us to get back on the road.  Some may dread a long car ride, but with Claudio it's pretty much always a good time.  About an hour outside of Houston, I was on the passenger side as he drove my car, when I looked up and saw a sign for an exit to Italy, Texas.  What the...?  How the hell have I grown up in Texas, taken this highway back and forth from Houston to Tulsa this many years and never, ever have I noticed there was a place called Italy, Texas?! It all became a little too surreal as I looked over at my friend.  See, I've been half way around the world to his family's home, now we're just leaving my family's home in Houston and it is quite literally...a sign.  A sign that this friendship was absolutely meant to be.  Before we made it back to Tulsa we stopped at the famous Buc-ee's so he could try their famous roadside BBQ and baked beans....and try on a cowboy hat.  We laughed and drove back to Tulsa and somehow continued to laugh at my apartment that night.  And now this little trip is one of my favorite Christmas memories.

Wait!  What?

Finally, one of my favorite-est holidays memories in New Years Eve, circa 1993.  Two girls - Elaine and Carrie - planning a killer NYE party at my house.  We made a cheese cake, ordered enough pizzas to feed a small army (paid for in coins no less), and a play list MIX TAPE for the night that was supposed to go down in infamy.  We even went to the mall and purchased special outfits.  Plaid.  All plaid - head to toe.  OK, neither of us were those high school party types.  We didn't drink, do drugs, or anything. The worst thing we did when we were teenagers was sass mouth just about everyone we knew.  Parents, Sunday school teachers, strangers, whoever.  We had attitude for days and didn't mind sharing it with the world.  Anyway this year was going to be epic.  The guest list was tight!  I mean, we had called, like, everyone you know?!  And what else was a pack of teenagers going to be doing on NYE 1993?  Ya!  That's right!  They're' coming over here, baby!  An hour later, music blaring, cheesecake sitting in the fridge, pizzas laid out across the table and....it's only me and Elaine still.  Not a single soul came to our most awesomely, awesome party.  Even my parents left! Wow....wow.  Regardless of the fact that our totally kick ass party had only two guests, who happened to be the hosts, Elaine and I danced, laughed, screamed HAPPY NEW YEAR, and had the time of our lives that night.  It didn't really even seem to phase us that nobody bothered to show up or even call to tell us why they weren't coming.  We simply didn't need them anyway. And this was just one moment and in many similar situations that found the two of us in a corner, not paying and mind to anyone else but each other.  We talked on the phone not long ago and this "party" was mentioned and met with roaring laughter on the other end of the line.  It is still one of the best NYE moments of my life and one that I will never forget.  Because I was safe, at home with one of my most favorite people and literally nothing else mattered.  I only wish I had a photo of this particular epic fail.

Well, there you have it.  Some of my favorite holiday memories.  I'll be flying to Houston on the 24th and this year I am cooking my family's Christmas dinner.  I'm looking forward to making more memories.  And while Claudio is in Rome, Tuller will be here in Tulsa, Elaine is pregnant (so we can't laugh too hard otherwise she'll go in to labor), and other friends and family a sprinkled about around the globe, I will be with my family and I'm sure there will be plenty to laugh about!!!!

And here are some links to my favorite SNL Christmas moments.  Ahhhh!

Absolutely, 100%, One of he Funniest!

Dawn and I sing it every year!

I Love Jimmy Fallon

Peace,

Carrie

Inquiring Minds...

I don't know if it is the holiday season or people's general curiosity of one another lives, but lately it seems that I've been asked about my thoughts on romance more than usual.  I know around this time of the year we start thinking about love a lot more than we may during, say...Independence Day.  It seems that inquiring minds want to know what I'm looking for in a relationship.  Typically I just answer back "I'm in several relationships.  I have amazing friends".  And I know that's private, mysterious Scorpio in me, and most of the time they are asking in a harmless manner.  But sometimes I just can't be bothered to open that box and discuss what I think a relationship should be.  It seems to fall on deaf ears, so why bother?  And I'm left to wonder why someone cares so much about whether or not I want to fall in love again?  Is it because they are concerned for me growing old and alone?  Ir is it just natural curiosity?  And with the innocent comes the intrusive.  It would seem that I've placed a big, red, flashing light on my forehead saying "Available".  Men from my past have been coming out of nowhere with that "So, you're single again...?"  Well, I wasn't interested then and I'm certainly not now.  But....thanks?  And really, please stop trying because you're getting nowhere.  I promise.

My sister and I talk on the phone almost every night.  And considering how drastically our lives have changed over the last three years, many of our conversations turn to the future and what lies ahead of us as we charge into the unknown with bright eyes and hopeful hearts.  And of course we talk about relationships - the fears and dreams surrounding the beast called "romance", and everything else you can possibly imagine. So, I've started thinking about what I truly want in a relationship if ( and it's a BIG if) I ever want to be in one again.

If I had to make a list of what I'm looking for, I guess it would go like this:

Please be honest with me.  Do not lie to my face because I can detect dishonesty like a drug sniffing dog.  And even when I don't let on that I know you're lying, I know you're lying.  And don't blame my trust issues or use them against me.  That's cruel.  I have trust issues because trust is like gold to me and I've been robbed one too many times.  If I give you my trust, please respect it and do not lie to me.

Make me laugh!  Enjoy the little things with me.  Laugh at me when I'm being stupid and find the humor in most situations.  Don't take yourself so seriously that you hold on to useless hurt feelings that really have nothing to do with me but become my problem.  Find joy and share it with me!  Laughing is my favorite part of anything and we could be happy....if you choose to laugh with me.

Don't be intimidated by my friends.  They are amazing people and the reason why I'm still able to trust and love even after a great heartbreak.  Yes I spend a lot of time with them, but c'mon! They are treasures   And if you really have a problem with my friends, I won't stick around long.  Because many times when my internal compass was broken, they were the ones to guide me back to reality.  They are my rock and my sanctuary and if I could create the perfect partner for myself to spend the rest of my years with, he'd be made from all of them.  I'm so lucky and you could be too if you'd only accept them.  And I know, I know I seem to love them A LOT. And I do.  But it doesn't mean I will love you any less.  I was built to love and it is one of the things I do best.  I have plenty of room for you and them.

Finally, please, above all else, please respect me.  I am not your mother.  I am the person you kiss, your lover.  I cannot and will not play the role of mother and lover - the combination is a sickness.  If you're looking for someone to tell you how to be a man, how to be kind, how to not say and do harmful and cruel things to the one you claim to love, look elsewhere. I do not have the time nor desire to be your mother.  Nor do I have the time or desire to be manipulated, controlled, demeaned, and further damaged by guilt and shame.  I've been a "mother", and now I'm looking for an equal.

Simply put -Be my friend. Be my best friend. Treat me as you would someone you admire and please be someone I can admire.

I guess that's it.  I don't think I require much.  But, when I look back I find that mosto f what I have always wanted are the things I still want in a partner.  And at this point of my life I have very high standards.  Some may even say they are too high.  Look, I'm not asking for a ridiculously handsome man with loads of money and no life experiences with Brad Pitt's face.  No.  I'm simply not willing to settle for anything less than what I will give to someone.  I am, even after everything I've said about relationships, still willing to accept love.  But, if I can't have what I feel I'm willing to offer, well, then I will live happily ever after with myself.  And perhaps some friends and cats.  And I don't fear that for a future.  It's not something that keeps me awake at night.  Because at the end of the day I do have great love in my life.  It's just not what some may expect.

I'm hesitant to post this because I don't want to be misunderstood.  I'm not looking for a relationship.  I'm simply listing the things I desire in a relationship.   I'm perfectly happy being single.  I don't live without love.  In fact I feel more love than I've felt in years.  Mainly, and most importantly, from and for myself.

I read a quote once and it felt so right to me that I copied it down on a piece of paper and pinned it to the wall in my office.  It says "The love you give is unforgettable and transforming, the kind meant only for the brave.  You are so worth it".  I believe it.

Carrie

Fa La La La....Blah

I've been on this weight loss and work out routine since August and I've had success.  I'm happy that I've lost more than 20 lbs and I feel a lot better about so many things....until last week.  Wow.  I fell on my face and cracked open like a fresh egg.  So, this morning I put on my grown up pants and decided to pony up and get back on the horse.

I found myself feeling exhausted and lazy last week.  Unmotivated and dreading the coming weeks of fighting holiday food temptation.  So instead I just went with the feeling I suppose.  It wasn't a good idea because every single day I beat myself up for not going to the gym or not consuming enough water.  Last night as I was making my way to the bed, I had a meeting with myself and had to force positive thinking back into my breath.  I've come this far, time to charge through the holidays with a chin held high.  And then that thinking led to pondering everything that is supposed to happen vs. what really happens at this time of the year.

Americans have a lot of stress placed in their lives from November 1 until the end of the year.  A major consumerist society, pressure is placed on us to have the perfect spread, the most gifts, and the Norman Rockwell idea of a snowy Christmas with a golden turkey and home made apple pie.  Everything on television is gearing toward winning our hard earned dollars and this commercialization of the season feeds our frenzy for perfection.  When the reality is, we simply aren't capable of achieving the perfection being advertised and sold.

While I don't have the desire to participate in Black Friday sales and risking my life for an additional 50% off already discounted items, I do desire a cozy, warm, love filled season when I get a chance to see everyone I love. And, as reality would have it, it's simply not possible.  Instead of it being magical and joyful, I tend to feel lonely and disappointed.  And I really want to change that.  I want to start my own traditions and reclaim the season as my own.  I'm tired of feeling like I'm missing something if I can't make it home for Christmas.  Of course we want to be with loved ones, but I have loved ones here.  I have a family I've created. I just wish it were easier to balance it all instead of deal with how stressful as it has become.

All of these thoughts led me to believe that the holidays have exploded into a meaningless simulacra that is impossible to attain in reality.  So, we feed those feels, gain weight, and start a new year fatter and more depressed.  NOPE!  Not today!  I've got to get my focus back and not get my head wrapped up in disappointment.  I will survive another Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve with grace, dignity, and a few less pounds.  My new holiday tradition: modesty.

Cheers.

Oh and Happy Holidays!

For a Reason

I feel very inspired tonight.

A few months ago my friend George asked me to come down to the Coffee House Saturday Night and perform for the kids at Tulsa Youth Services.  TYS is a program for teenagers to help in crisis situations such as abuse, homelessness, rehabilitation, and crime prevention. Among other things. Each Saturday night they have an event called Coffee House Saturday night. The kids show up, socialize, and play games.  It's a safe place for teenagers of various backgrounds to get together and have a good time.  And on occasion there's live music. Well, tonight Andy and I were the invited guest.

You know that saying "everything happens for a reason"?  Tonight, that saying couldn't be  more true.  See, it's been a little up and down lately and my spirit was as rainy as this drenched fall day.  I've been feeling challenged to keep my new positively positive outlook and fighting a desire to hide away from the world.  But tonight, it was about putting on my happy face and giving these kids a show. And what a show it turned out to be!

Andy and I arrived about an hour before our set.  We just knew the kids wouldn't be interested in our brand of folksy/blues/soul, but we figured it would be a nice opportunity to do another live gig.  When we first walked in I saw the stage to my right and kids playing video games on a giant screen near the back.  Others were sitting around chatting and looking at us as if, perhaps, we were there to provide a lecture on safe sex or driving responsibly.  Eventually our "road crew"( i.e. the Julies) showed up and it was getting close to start the show.  Shelton, being the eternal teenager that she is, locked her gaze on to a boy, about 13, playing some video game as if he supper depended on it.  She made her way over and started asking questions about his technique and game stats.  Super cute that Shelton.  Finally, a rather polite young man asked "Scuse me, Ma'am.  When are you going to start singing"?  I began to think that this may turn out to be a lot of fun.  Just minutes before I got on stage, I found myself engaged in a deep conversation with a 16 year old boy named Jacob who proudly sported a quite impressive knowledge about music spanning several genres.   Finally, it was 8 p.m. - show time.  About ten or so teenagers gathered around the stage, positioned on a glob of bean bags flopped down in a mountain just at the edge of where I would be singing. As soon as we started, the kids began clapping and singing along....as we did mostly all covers.

It didn't take long for me to set eyes on Nicholas.  He was seated almost center and after each song he would hold his hands up in a heart shape and mouth "I love you".  Holy crap!  These teenagers are having....fun!  Andy gave me a look.  That kind that indicates "wow, I'm having fun too".  We raced through the first part of our set covering The Beatles to Whitney Houston and lost track of time completely.  I even put Tuller on the spot and made her sing a few unplanned songs with me including the original song Andy and I wrote called "Hush".  I was just having so much fun, bantering back and forth with the kids, hearing their input and watching their faces, hearing them cheer and just being 100% present in the moment shared with these teenagers.  It was great!

My buddy Jacob wasn't lying about his rich knowledge of music.  That kid sang along to every single song.  No matter how obscure I thought it would be to a 16 year old boy, his lips were in sync with each lyric.  And he knew all of the artist we were covering and speaking about.  The whole time all of these kids were curled up on the bean bags still, listening intently and giving me what was perhaps, the very best audience participation.  Ever.

Once we finished with the whole set, the kids were on their feet waiting to greet us as we walked off of the stage.  Nicholas, my little heart shaped hand boy, approached me with the most earnest smile and asked "Carrie, can I play some songs for you on the piano and you can sing with me"?  My heart melted into a pile of goo right there.  Of course Nicholas!  So, he and I sat at the upright and he played a few songs (self taught on the piano and VERY good no less) as we sang and harmonized.  Simply put, it was beautiful.  When he finished his last song he told me he'd be performing on one of these Saturday nights in November and softly asked "will you come"?  Again, melted heart.  Yes.  Yes my dear, sweet, pure hearted boy.  I will be there.

Lucky for me Shelton was there, camera in hand, snapping shots the entire time.  And before we left Andy, me, and the TYS kids took a group picture snuggled on the bean bags all together.  I can't wait to have that photo.

I left smiling ear to ear.  What a beautiful experience.  Thank you TYS kids for reminding me  what sharing really is all about. I shared my heart with you through song, and you shared your hearts and ears with me.  I'm truly blessed to have had that time with you and I look forward to it again.

Everything really does happen for a reason.

Peace,
Carrie

My Father

It's not Father's Day.  It's not his birthday.  It's nothing but a Wednesday.  However, I felt inspired to write about my father today.

My dad is someone most of my friends consider their second dad.  To a lot of people his presence is comforting as he provides a warm feeling that comes with a welcoming smile and open mind.  He's gifted that way and I'm grateful because let's face it, I have some wack-a-doodle friends.  I say that with love!  But throughout he years and everyone I've brought to his doorstep, he has shown them kindness and hospitality and considered them as much of a part of his family as own of his own children.  And he isn't kidding.  If they were to need something, Charlie is there to ask how he can help.

For some reason today I can't get Dad off my mind.  And I want to tell him how much I love him and how much it means the he accepts me for who I am and will love me for who I will become.  For his entire life, he's been one to sacrifice. Many times he worked 12, 16, even 24 hours straight but if there was something important Dawn and I were doing such as an Orchestra concert or singing at some event, Dad would show up without sleep just to be there.  And recently my parents came to Tulsa to see a gig I did and my poor father was exposed to a lot more than he probably cared for, but he did it with a smile.

See, he's always around sometimes in the background, never in the spot light.  And with all the things he's come out to support for my sister and I, (including helping us both with our European travel expenses) and now for my mom's poetry book, I felt he deserved some attention.

I love you, Dad.  Thank you for your sacrifice.  Thank your for loving us and our "extended" family.  Thank you for driving half way across the country to fulfill two little girls' wildest dreams.  I'm sorry you don't always  get the attention you deserve, but speaking on Dawn's behalf here - thank you.  We love you dearly, Dad!

And This I Will Share

I have something to share.  No, it isn't the all site seeing details of my recent trip to Italy.  Yes, of course I had an amazing vacation.  I spent time with dear people, I saw things that blew my mind, and I ate food that cannot be reproduced.  All of that is true.  I don't intend to post every photo I took to various social medias.  Mainly because a lot of the photos I took this time were very personal.  Reminders of a moment shared with  a dear friend or sister.  And moments that will not translate when speaking on a vacation.  For me, this was a time to escape and to relax in the beauty of something entirely outside my American life.  It wasn't a time to live behind a camera, but in a moment.

Getting to my original point, the thing I'd like to share.  Before I left I had some serious working through to do.  I wanted to land in Italy with little weight on my shoulders.  So, the weeks leading up to my departure I began heavy meditation, trying to clear my mind of things that may be taking up space while I should be enjoying myself.  And when I finally arrived, I felt ready to relax and be away.  I didn't realize I'd come back with a completely renewed sense of life quality.  A renewal that I would bring back to the states, and live each and every day since I've been reintroduced in to reality like a baby gorilla being released back into the wild.

This flash of awareness, if you will, happened on a drive.  My friend and I were having a very deep, philosophical conversation when silence fell, I heard my heart tell my mind to be quiet and be still. It was at that moment I looked out of the passenger side window to see the Mount Vesuvius.  Yes, one of Italy's active volcanoes.  In a matter of seconds I felt a strange sweeping peace and sudden enlightenment.  As if what I had been searching for was finally found.  Looking at the volcano made me feel detached from pointless ramblings in my head, and 100% connected to the bigger picture.  I felt the moment of release.  I buried something there, something that I can't find because I left it in the moment when I decided "live, and then live some more" was the only truth I could reside within from here on out.

The next few days I was quiet in one part due to my limited Italian vocabulary.  But, I was also quiet because I had nothing to say.  Instead, I had plenty to listen to and plenty to gaze upon.  And this, I believe, was the purpose for me even being there.  And for whatever reason , I knew it was meant to be that I was far away from home and my reality.  The location was necessary as I am naturally tactical.  For a complete change of focus, I had to feel it in my hands.  And I did.  I felt it when sand slipped through my fingers on the beach.  When salt water stuck to my skin, and when I soaked in warm volcano water days later.  Renewal.

They day I left, saying goodbye to my friend, whom I don't really even know when I will see again for sure, and to my sister as she left to return to Houston, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself content.  I wasn't sad and I didn't even cry when I said my final farewell.  Instead, I smiled ear to ear.  Knowing I was equipped to bring back this peace I had found and work to share it with those I love. And that's exactly what I did.  Each day I have found myself feeling joy and calm and letting go of useless hurt feelings and negative thinking that keeps me bound to an unfulfilled existence.  It's just not worth living in a wounded state on thinking.  My life is precious and my time is limited.  What is the point wasting my own time with things that are either out of my control or issues that do not generate the outcomes I seek?

Everywhere I go I'm told I seem lighter, friendlier, happier, even that I look more attractive.  Someone even told me I was glowing.  Well, joy is impossible to hide and it is also contagious.  And I desire to be a light in someone's life.  I choose to be a positive spot in someone's day.  And I choose to keep dreaming for myself even when I haven't the faintest clue how I'm going to accomplish some of the goals I've set for myself.  The important part is that I'm trying to accomplish them.

I did manage to take time to write a few things that I wanted to remember and reflect on later.

To be encouraged, be encouraging.
To be peaceful, let go of that which binds you to fruitless sorrows.
To be wise, learn something new every day.
To find mercy, be graceful.
To be beautiful, find the beauty in each day.
To be heard, take time to listen.
To be seen, take time to gaze.
To receive kindness, give without expectations.
To be loved, love someone deeply.

Peace.

Women of Extreme Features

Until recently I had spent many days beating myself up for not losing 30 pounds.  I shed some weight but not the amount I wanted before summer ended.  I was going to the gym faithfully until I got busy with the end of a season at work, helping people pack, moving my own stuff to a new home, and saying goodbye to loads of friends. In the middle of it all I stopped working out regularly and then realized I wasn't going to make my goal.

Shit.

Last Sunday I was having dinner with a very attractive male friend of mine when we started discussing the working out.  In the middle of my sentence I said "I'm a chubby girl...I may always be..." and then thought OMG did I just say that out loud to him??  As if he couldn't tell by looking at me that I'm not a tiny twig of a woman.  My friend chuckled at my comment and the conversation moved on.  He didn't stop to insert comments such as "But you're pretty" or "You have nice eyes and a beautiful smile".  And I was grateful for this.  I don't need validation and it's obvious I could drop a few.  But this is where I am.  I'm not by any means headed for a scooter (by that I mean a Hoveround not a Vespa) and I'm also not stroking out in extreme heat. I'm just chubby for the love of god!

When I got home I pulled myself together and said, out loud in the mirror, "Carrie. You are what you are. Get over it"  Deep breath....in and out.  Okay..okay, okay, okay!  This is me right here and right now.  I'm headed to Italy in just over a week and I'm not going to beat myself up any longer for not looking they way I want.  Life is too short and time can't be wasted trapped in the "what if" zone.  Finally I've started accounting for the things I like about myself in personality and in my appearance.  I really hate when people say they don't care what they look like.  It's just not true.  But to fixate on what you don't like about your physical appearance is damaging to the soul and can steal your joy faster than almost anything else.  So, I'm simply not allowing that to happen.

My sister and I have extreme features.  She has large hips and I have large boobs. We also have large eyes and noses.  Finally, we both have big mouths and loud opinions.  But that's just us. Big butts, boobs, eyes, and hearts.  Ya, I said hearts. And I accept it.  We're not the Kardashian's - no, no we're too smart for that. But we aren't eating Gilbert Grape either.  I'm just fucking chubby!  And one hell of a good time.