Monthly Archives: December 2011

Peach State says: Happy New Year! Really?

                                                                Here it is, December 31, 2011 and tomorrow will be a whole New Year.  2012!!!!

With all the promises we make to ourselves to lose weight, be kind to others, get a better job, find a job…it is amazing we have time to focus on the real issues at hand.   Our family, friends, church, and community need to be visualized in every New Year’s Resolution.  Don’t get me wrong….the resolutions listed, previously, could all be focused on those around us everyday.

My approach to life changed when I dropped over 100 pounds and I was told I had a different personality.  It was a good change for the most part and I was excited to be with people and found myself walking more.  I do get aggravated with myself because I have not lost anymore and have found that, even though I have plateaued, I did gain a few pounds back.  In my defense, I was sick and then I fell, both kept me from walking.  I recovered and the city was renovating the walking track where I walk.  I got depressed by these situations, and others that plagued my mere existence,  and the weight slowly crept back.  I do not have a vehicle to get to the track now because my husband uses it to drive back and forth to work.  I know what you are thinking,  walk when he gets home…. “I can’t!”  He leaves at 7:30 every morning and comes home about 8:00 every night.  Sometimes he doesn’t get home until closer to 10:00!  The friends that I have who walk live to far away or are unable to keep up with my pace.  I walked three times with a friend who was training for a 5K and participates in a exercise class twice a week.  I could not force myself to slow down to her pace.  I find a rhythm and move not socialize.  The strolling type of walking is not for me!  I love to put my headphones on and select the beat driven songs on my iTunes play-list.  I even downloaded some military cadences that I had started using to shuffle jog instead of just walking.  I know that I will start walking this next year and the weight will come off again.  I can’t wait!!!!

Facing our reality and making the best of it should be the universal New Year’s Resolution.  We would all win in the long-term!  We should be thankful for what we have and not regret what we never received or had.  I speak from experience when I say “My husband deserves more money from his employer!”  but…I can say “Yea! my husband is employed!!!! We went for close to four years with no income and insurance.  We are a stronger family unit because of this experience and have had many obstacles invade our ranks.  Baby steps, One Day at a Time, Put One Foot in Front of the Other….all good advice for the upcoming year.

We really have been very lucky and fortunate to have managed this trial the way we did.  Things could have been a lot worse.  People suffer daily and lose their homes and livelihood.  Sickness and death break families financially and emotionally.  We have stayed in our home and have managed to pay the bills.  My husband creatively paid off credit cards and lowered our monthly expenditures.  Needless to say, we will head into this New Year with less going out of our pocket and lessons learned on surviving with less $$$.  This is a very good start to our New Year.  We have had a few regrets and wish things could have been resolved quicker.  They had to be placed on the back burner to keep warm while constantly stirring the pot up front to stay afloat.  These decisions influence those around us in ways we may never know.  I have been fortunate to see and hear how my life had influenced those around me in a positive manner.  I strive daily to help others as they face their walk on hot coals.  Only by not focusing on ourselves do we see what life altering events are happening to those around us.  We can offer support and help in many ways.

Tonight we will countdown to a New Year and celebrate the possibilities that lie ahead of us.  Make this a year to remember!  Take time to help others and you will be helping yourself.  Celebrate time with family and friends and make memories to last a lifetime.  Time really does fly and this New Year will quickly be replaced by another New Year.  This New Year will be what we make it….so…..

Happy New Year!  REALLY!!!

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Heart of Dixie says . . . I need an overhaul

Pensive Girl has a new-ish car.  She totaled her new Civic about six months ago and used the money to buy an Audi TT with nearly 200,000 miles on it.  The train of logic ran something like this: we’ll save the difference in the insurance pay-out and use it for repairs.

Let’s just say that the money is gone and Pensive Girl’s boyfriend now has intimate knowledge of the inner workings of Audi TTs.

On the up side, the car has brand new insides.  I want to know how to get that.  How do I get a brain that resolves to do things (like lose weight) with the strength mentioned in the chiropractor’s sign?

All my grumpies went away yesterday when I finally saw Southern Man.  So, I also need a model that doesn’t depend on others for happiness

I need a model that doesn’t bite the hand that feeds it, too.  (My apologies for the mixed metaphor as well as the italics…I have no idea what I did there!) The more my mom wants to take care of me while I’m hurting, the madder I get.  I guess it makes me just feel guilty to have my mom, who is spending all her spare time taking care of Mema, take care of me.

My brain has knocks – the kind cars used to get back in the day.  Only my brain grumbles.  About the size of the closet, the cabinets, the table, the rooms.  About the amount of gas my car uses (realize that my car was a gift – talk about looking a gift horse in the tank). I need to get rid of the knocks.

I need more than a weight-loss resolution this year.  I need a brain overhaul.

I have thought for about a year that the answer is a church with a choir.  I visited one for a while, but I never joined the choir because it conflicted with my Bible study.  Still, though, I think that is really more of a new paint job, when what I really need is a new engine.

Heart of Dixie says . . . I decided not to post this on facebook…but I wanted to say it anyway.

I was so excited this morning, and now I’m just full of disdain for all those perfect little cheerful posts out

there.  I’m pretty sure the inner grumpiness is caused by the physical pain, but still.  How can all of y’all be so perfect all the time?  I don’t believe you.  I used to pretend to be perfect, too.

Heart of Dixie says . . . Now, how can I make that happen?

I was a the chiropractor’s office today (working on that pain in the neck), and I saw a sign he had hanging on the wall.  It said, “Nothing is stronger than a made-up mind.”

Now, I don’t know if it was intended as a reminder to be open minded to letting alternative forms of medicine heal our bodies or if it was meant as some other form of inspiration.  But I thought about it and about this last pair of jeans that I can fit into before getting down the fat box for real.  I need a made-up mind.

I suppose all addictions need made-up minds. They need something else, too, though. Ever heard of a dry drunk? That’s just a drunk with a made-up mind and no internal changes.  Many times he or she is much worse than the actual drunk. Is this why I lose weight and gain it and lose it and gain it? Is it because I don’t have a made up mind or because I have one for a time but that’s all it was.  A human mind.

I ponder all of these things having eaten an old and not very satisfying brownie and while snacking on cheese its.  Clearly, I have neither a made-up mind nor a spiritual truth on which to base this decision.  Something I do have a collection of little black dresses in sizes 8, 10, 12, and 14. I have pants & skirts in 6, 8, 10, and 14.  I am a woman of many minds.

I don’t think the made up mind is the ending and the answer.  Nor do I believe it to be the ultimate in strength, but I do believe it is a good place to begin.  I wonder how one achieved this esoteric goal or if it comes along with the “doing” of something.

Peach State says: I am Thankful for GPS

Turn left in .2 miles then prepare to take the next right.  You have arrived at your destination!

I was on a mission early yesterday that took me to the other side of Atlanta.  I was headed to Emory/Egleston Children’s Hospital to be with my dear friends while the first procedure was done on their 6 year old daughter.  I had familiarized myself with the directions on the map app on my phone and followed the various and sometimes confusing turns that took me from the familiar Atlanta Interstate system.  The houses and quaint businesses were lining the streets and I probably looked like a deer standing in the headlights.  Relief flooded over me when I saw a blue square sign with a capital H.  There was a hospital in here and I am going the right way.

I took the last required turn and followed the signs for parking.  After driving around and around and around to find a parking spot I met with success and parked.  I gathered my wits and the items for survival that I had brought for my friends.  Pressed the button on the key….beep, beep.  Off I went into the maze of buildings in the large Medical Complex.  I was settled in with the family, after visiting and playing countless games of Connect Four with their daughter, and found myself pondering my return trip home.  Reaching for my phone I opened the map app and reversed the directions.  “Okay” I thought, “I am ready and will be able to get back to the interstate.”  I focused on the task at hand.

Anyone who knows Atlanta traffic knows the traffic flow is worse after 4 in the afternoon, when traveling north.  I looked at my watch and cringed.  I said my goodbyes and gave my hugs after hearing the results of the first procedure.  I strolled out of the door of the waiting room and picked up the pace.  It was after 4PM.  We had been in several buildings and I had to find the parking complex first.  In my car I prepared to leave and looked up at the empty GPS holder on the windshield.  Excitement tingled through my body as I reached for the little black box and attached it to the holder.  Turning it on I pressed the little button…”Where would you like to go?”… Home!  “Calculating”.  I know what you are thinking…I did not use this GPS device to give me directions to the hospital because I did not want to mess up the settings already set by my husband.  I did know that it could get me home!  It took me out the same way I came in until “Turn right and take the very next left”  I didn’t come this way.  I followed the directions and moved at a decent pace through areas of Atlanta I have never had the chance to see.  I even drove by the Govenor’s Mansion.  I finally received the direction to turn right and merge onto Interstate 75.  Wow…I bypassed Interstate 85 completely.  I was home free!

Today I am headed to another hospital, in a different location north of Atlanta, to be with the same family during the major surgery for the same child.  I am taking my son’s big truck and he has a GPS, phone, app playing stereo unit.  He is such a techno-geek!  He will set it up for me in a little while before I head out.  I looked at the directions to this second hospital last night and it looks a lot easier than yesterday.

I was raised to read a map and to read signs.  I drove to Washington State from Georgia and felt solace in the highway and interstate signs.  I know I can get where I need to be but I am thankful for GPS….It

Heart of Dixie says . . . I went looking for the fat clothes box

I swore this would not happen again.  In fact, outside the October of unlimited candy corn (which I call crack), I’m not really sure what happened.  I do know I had such a hard time with Funny Girl’s going to college and chronic unemployment that I went on antidepressants at the insistence of a friend.  (Something else I promised myself I wouldn’t need to do again.)  When I noticed that the clothes were getting tight, I got off of them, but that’s been about a month and the weight still goes up, up, up.

So, I swore I wouldn’t count calories again, telling myself that the times I did that before I was doing so to please a critical man and not to please myself.  The weight fell off without counting the first calorie when he slipped into the past tense, so why am I here again?

Ours is not to ask why, I guess, but to just take action.  The 12s are tight, but the 14s are still loose, and for that I will be thankful.  I joined sparkpeople.com and put a piece of graph paper on my bathroom wall.  I will not say that I’ve taken much more action than that. Last week I did wake up at 5:00 each day and exercise, but this week and next I have Pensive Girl and I have to wake up at 5:00 just to get her to school.  Not sure I’m up to waking up at 4:30 yet. Would appreciate any tips anyone has.  I’ve never been a working mother before.  Before I could just go run six miles if I wanted to.  I really can’t do that anymore.

Well, that said, I suppose it is time to lace up the shoes and go outside.  I don’t really live in a running accessible neighborhood anymore, but there are some killer hills that rev the old heart rate.  As far as calories, I’m not going to stress about it until the new year, but I did log those two muffins in.

Here’s to getting back into 10s.

Heart of Dixie says . . . Please pardon my pain in the neck

I have a pain in the neck.  I might also be a pain in the neck.  It’s hard to tell.  I know that when I have my pain in the neck, I have a hard time with life, particularly with being cheerful and fighting off depression.  Sometimes my pain in the neck feels as mean as this lovely creature.  And sometimes I am able to ignore it altogether.

My pain in the neck is not a person or a dog or even a place.  My pain in the neck is pain – in my neck. It first started when I took Funny Girl to college. This required a night in a hotel room.  A night after which I woke up with a pain in my neck. It didn’t go away all day.  Or the day after that.  Or the day after that.  This was back in August. Sigh.

I went to the doctor, who gave me drugs.  I went to the physical therapist who gave me such pain in the neck that I had to take to bed each time I saw her.  I bought horse medicine that smells like a paper mill, but seems to help.

The day after Christmas, I was nearly in tears.   (This is the same day I posted the grumpy post.) I figure the pain is worse when I am social, like on Christmas.  When I keep my head pointed straight at the computer at work, it’s better.  When I look around and have conversations with people, it’s much worse.  While I don’t feel like becoming a recluse, I have decided that after Christmas pain and then trip to Atlanta pain and then impromptu teenage game night last night pain, I cannot go to my aunt’s for New Year’s Eve if I am going to be able to go to work next week.

So I went to the chiropractor yesterday and will go again tomorrow. I will call my aunt and give my sincerest apologies.  I will stay home today and quietly sort out the disaster on my desk and iron my clothes so that I feel orderly (eliminating one pain in the neck anyway).  But I’m kind of sad. After waiting for my girls to come home from Virginia, they finally get here and I find myself taking to bed.  Oh well. Life’s like that sometimes.  Anyway, I will try to quit being a pain in the neck to any readers out there.

Peach State says: The modern inconvenience called the Internet

Turn on computer and wait! Mark all the appropriate boxes to clear off the screen

in preparation to start my day.  “Explorer has failed and is restarting!”  Down goes

the screen and then pops back up.  “Explorer has failed and is restarting!”  I don’t

like the pattern that is evolving. I turn off my computer and hope the message,

filling me with frustration, will not return.  So far so good then, with bells and

warning lights come the pop-up.  “Explorer has failed and is restarting!” What did I

do to deserve this so early in the morning?  I try all the techniques and secrets my

son has taught me to no avail.  “I quit!”  I say in my head. I don’t want to wake

those sleeping upstairs.  I turn my computer off again and reach for my  trusted

iPhone.  My faithful friend brings up the pages I seek and I quickly maneuver

through them, aware of the time lost while fighting with my PC.

I feel scattered and out of sorts, not being able to do those little  tasks, and begin

my day behind schedule.  “Has this ever happened to you?”   Why do we find it a

pivotal  part of our day and when this happens we see the  billboard size

neon sign blinking [EPIC FAIL].

This inconvenience slows me down and without it I can’t  access my

book or my blog. “Do you know how long it is taking me to type this using

using my phone?”.  Well, I am a creature of habit and things must be done.

I was busy yesterday and could not blog.  My day was off ever so slightly.

“I will succeed and overcome this tragedy, thrust upon my very being, and

write.”  We lived our lives and thrived without the Internet for a long time. Why

can’t I now.

“Really got caught up in the moment and forgot I am enjoying the use of this

“Inconvenience” while blogging on my phone.  Things we take for granted!

With this said I will move on to the next task. “Who knows, my son may find the

straw  that broke my camel’s back  today  and I will write you again. “Till then

have a great day and surf without me!”

Angry Birds here I come!

D. L.

Heart of Dixie says. . . . it’s out choices, Harry.

Dumbledore is right of course.  It is our choices, far more than our abilities, define who we truly are.  It’s a phrase I have preached ad nauseaum to my girls.  It’s our choices.  It’s our choices.

And, so here I am, deeply imbued with the day-after-Christmas blues, beating myself with the phrase, “It’s our choices, Harry.”  Dammit, Dumbledore, I know, but sometimes I need a pity party.

It is our choices.  I could live in the half-million dollar house in the burbs.  I could have the closet as big as a baby’s nursery and a jacuzzi tub if I hadn’t made certain choices.  But here I am stuffed in an attic room.  Why?  Well, I have a nice roommate.  One who is a fine Christian gal.  God, Himself, put me here via a freak fire which destroyed nothing (another story).  Still I have the pity party.  God is good to me, yet I want more.   Sad.

Would I go back to get it?  Not in a million years.  There is no way.  In fact I really don’t understand how I ended up married to him. It was like Jim Carey in that movie asking God for a sign.  So many signs, but I ignored them all.  Ignoring is another choice.  I stayed with him as long as I could, another choice.  I stayed home with my kids and killed my career, another choice.  But those are socially acceptable choices.  I don’t beat myself up about those.

I also walked away from it all (it’s not like my name was on the house anyway).  Walking away is an unacceptable choice which lands one in the attic room of a generous friend.  That choice is the one is that people mourn and are embarrassed about.  That choice is the reason I have a hard time including my love in family things . . . with certain family.  With others (who saw my bad choices from the beginning) Scott has always been a blessing.  But it’s hard.  People love the people they think they know.  Figments of their imagination, kind of like Ashley Wilkes. People love the dream of a thing while someone else has to live through the reality.

Anyway, here I am.  Bemoaning my choices – all of them, except leaving…..I am sorry about when I left. Wish I had done so much, much earlier, but there are family and religious mores which quell all of that…..well, kids are home.  Gotta run.  The pity party has run its course in the face of hungry teenagers. 🙂

Aloha,

LA.

Heart of Dixie says. . . . it’s our choices, Harry.

Dumbledore is right of course.  It is our choices, far more than our abilities, define who we truly are.  It’s a phrase I have preached ad nauseaum to my girls.  It’s our choices.  It’s our choices.

And, so here I am, deeply imbued with the day-after-Christmas blues, beating myself with the phrase, “It’s our choices, Harry.”  Dammit, Dumbledore, I know, but sometimes I need a pity party.

It is our choices.  I could live in the half-million dollar house in the burb.  I could have the closet as big as a baby’s nursery and a jacuzzi tub if I hadn’t made certain choices.  But here I am stuffed in an attic room.  Why?  Well, I have a nice roommate.  One who is a fine Christian gals.  God, Himself, put me here via a freak fire which destroyed nothing (another story).  Still I have the pity party.  God is good to me, yet I want more.

Would I go back to get it?  Not in a million years.  There is no way.  In fact I really don’t understand how I ended up married to him. It was like Jim Carey in that movie asking God for a sign.  So many signs, but I ignored them all.  Ignoring is another choice.  I stayed with him as long as I could, another choice.  I stayed home with my kids and killed my career, another choice.  But those are socially acceptable choices.  i don’t beat myself up about those.

I also walked away from it all (it’s not like my name was on the house anyway.  That choice is unacceptable and lands one in an attic room of a generous friend.  That one is the one we mourn.  That one is the reason I have a hard time including my love in family things . . . with certain family.  With others (who saw my bad choices from the beginning) Scott has always been a blessing.

Anyway, here I am.  Bemoaning my choices – all of them, except leaving…..I am sorry about when I left. Wish I had done so much, much earlier, but there are family and religious mores which quell all of that…..well, kids are home.  Gottat run.

Aloha,

LA.