30 March 2009
Thanks to Joanne's husband Steve, I now have a new lexicon to add to my vocabulary. DILF.
Similar to the MILF, it's when you lust after men old enough to be your father.
So my first official DILF for consideration is ROBERT PATRICK.
Star of The Unit, The X-Files, The Terminator.
He is one hot daddy. Hot. Hot.
As a general rule, I tend to keep my emotions in check. So when the tears do flow, it's always at the most unexpected moments that catch me completely off guard. I mean, I didn't cry at my grandpa's funeral, but I sobbed uncontrollably when Megan died on One Life to Live (a soap opera). I broke my leg and no tears, but I cried hysterically at the Luxor in Las Vegas when I found out that my cat died at home.
So imagine my surprise when I almost burst into tears not once, not twice, not three times....but FOUR times at church yesterday. Having to deal with the topic of forgiveness was harder then I expected. But the realization was that by not forgiving the two men in my life who could have destroyed me, I was continuing letting them destroy me.
Now here it is on Monday...and I still want to cry (beause work sucks, but that's a whole different post). It's like a resevoir has been unleashed inside of me.
I have nothing profound to say...just saying that I'm a bit tearful lately. So if I randomly burst into tears at awkward moments, then you all know why. It's those damn ducks I tell ya...you never have them around when you need them the most.
I know I could wait until this Wednesday to post this, but it bears being said right now.
On Tuesday's episode of The Biggest Loser, Kristen, who started at over 350 pounds, became the first girl to loose over 10O pounds! Amazing. For those people (like me sometimes) who thinks it is hopeless and feel helpless, watch this girl on this show. How can one not be inspired by that?
I was talking to my co-worker today. She is basically doing the position I started here with. And as the time progresses, she is turning into...well ...me. You know, you start off all happy go lucky. Then the company starts sucking the life out of you. The next thing you know, you are bitter, angry, resentful and in general misery.
But my background story is that when I was on the desk, I had this rubber duck with horns on it (and camo gear because that's how I roll). Anyways, when I was pissed off (which was almost every hour of the day), I would put this duck on my computer. And soon, people got to know that if the duck was up, then to tread carefully.
Soon, I grew confident (or careless?) enought to express how I was feeling, and the duck went into a drawer, only to be pulled out when it is time to better not say anything at all.
So anyways, said co-worker is walking down the path that I took and she goes, in an act of resigned desperation, "at least I don't have a duck". And I reply "we all have our ducks, even if you can't see them".
So what's the point to my story? Is that we all have our ducks. We all have that one thing that expresses how we feel that we associate with to describe our emotion. And it is easier to showcase the duck than to just come out and say what bothers you. It's easier for someone to come by my desk and see the duck, then to come out and ask me how I feel. And it's easier for me to have the duck express how I feel but am weighed down by misery to say.
Weight loss is as much the emotional journey. And the journey starts with some small step. So pull out your duck. Whatever it may be. Let people know. Because only when you acknowledge that you have a duck will you be able to work on expressing what the duck stands for.
But the downside to procrastation is that it painfully outlines my inherent laziness. And there is no more evidence of this laziness then in my house.
I don't want to say such menacing words such as "war-zone" or "disaster area" but well....let's just say that my house has currently been declared "Operation Free the Beaver".
*Warning: Mini-Confessional Time*
I have too much clothes. *sob*
There, I said it. The fat girl in me wants to keep the skinny clothes. The skinny girl is fearful of having a roasted marshmallow icecream breakdown, so wants to keep the fat clothes. The in-between girl wants to buy more clothes to compensate for some crazy childhood issue. The hoarder wants to keep the clothes "just in case". The purger wants to purge the stuff that doesn't belong to her.
So thus, everything piles up. And it becomes overwhelming. I am trying to do the small things everyday hoping it adds up. Like this week I took down my mammoth of a desk. It had more screws than my entire sexual life. But I didn't immediately buy a new desk, so now I have computer bits scattered all over.
Two steps forward...one back.
And the funny thing is that every once in a while I get all inspired, and I purge like a banshee with no regret. But then my follow throw action? Replace crap with more crap.
House cleaning for me is a bit like weightloss. Good intentions interupted by fear of success and then ultimate failure.
Any pointers from the clean at heart?
But alas, procrastination is my nemisis. Procrastination is my achilles heel (which by the way is actually hurting...how ironic...perhaps a sign of my wicked wasteful ways catching up to me? I put off things and my ankle hurts. Hmmmm).
So anyhoo, I have some power posting to catch up on. But first, let me say this.
Gah. GAH. I hate work. GAH.
I feel better now. T-3 until holidays!
22 March 2009
It's called U Choose Friday's.
Basically, every Sunday I will post a poll with the list of four possible theme's. It is up to you, the reader, to decide on what theme I will blog on. In the event of a tie, I will blog about all the choices voted on.
The winning choice will be revealed in Friday's blog.
You can only choose one at a time (not set up for multiple votes), but you can vote often.
Note that I am still free to discuss any of the options anyways because it's my blog *ha ha*, but I am required to blog your choices on Friday!
All I want to do is sleep in, watch tv, read a book and be left alone (see Saturday's blog).
This morning was that day. I of course had to go becuase of my RCIA class and it was the second scrutiny. But I dragged my ass, barely paid attention to the service, blanked out during the homily. Ask me what was said and I got nothing. I think something about Sight? I dunno. All I know is that I was there in body, but my spirit was sitting on the couch, eating Roasted Marshmallow Ice cream watching Nascar.
So it's only appropriate then that today's lesson was about the Saints. The people who were so awesome and devoted on earth that they get the red phone line to God. The rest of us have to dial 1-800-CALL-GOD & listen to the operator.
Sample Phone call: The person you are trying to reach is currently occupied. Please listen to the following choices:
*To confess your sins, press 1
*To give a plenary indulgence, press 2
*To listen to the rosary, press 3
*To offer an intention for your dead cat in purgatory, press 4
Otherwise hold the line and your call will be redirected to a Saint, or answered by an wrathful Angel.
As I was semi-listening to the lecture on the saints, wishing I was at home it occured to me:
I am becoming a Catholic. Not a Saint.
I'm not perfect. So I will occasionally take the Lord's name in vain. I will not always honour my mom or neighbours. Sometimes, both will just piss me off. Someday's I won't want to go to church and other days where I my as well not have gone for the amount of time I paid attention while I was there. I'm going to have bad days and not turn to God/Jesus for help. Heck, I'll have days where I question them all together.
I am a work in progress, and my journey is much the same. I can't be the perfect Catholic or person. I will work on it. But when anyone says "but you are a Catholic", I will always be able to reply "but I'm not a Saint".
21 March 2009
1) Unexpected viewings of Bob Harper. Today, while surfing the tube, I came across and unexpected episode of The Biggest Loser. So of course, any chance to see Bob Haper, or his tattoos, or the chance of a possible *glimpse* of his abs is enough to make me go squee.
2) Junior's blog.. Junior posted what I thought to be the funniest thing I have read in a long time. I'm sitting here giggling thinking about it. John Cena brings out a whole different side of Junior. And kudos to Joanne for adding the insightful idea of adding Robert Patrick as the wise Police of Cheif. And the idea that I would be worth to spray the sweat on John Cena is enough to make me squeee.
3) The song Thunderdome by Tina Turner. Belt it with me folks...*All the children say...We don't need another hero. We don't need another way home. All we want is something something, Thunderdome.* *squee*.
4) The Godfather opening theme song. "Dahhh da da da do dah dah. Dooo do do do do dah do dah dooooooo" *squee*.
5) Peach Tea with honey. Nothing soothes the soul like peach tea with honey. (well, if you don't count pints of roasted marshmallow icecream). *squee*.
6) Slippers. Oh how my tender tootsies were cold. But they found their way into nice warm snuggly slippers. *squee*.
7) The Family Stone. I love this movie. It's one of the greatest movies that fly's under the radar of recognition. Sarah Jessica Parker and Luke Wilson were superb, as was Diane Keaton. And oh, oh, do I cry at the end. Every stinkin' time. *squee*.
8)Talking to my mama. I love my mom. She's the best mom. I can just call her and talk and talk and talk. And we will talk about anything and everything. And it doesn't matter what topic, she will be interested in speaking about it, even if it requires some explanation. I'm a little concerned about her short term memory, and it hit's me more and more each day that she is getting a little bit older. But in conclusion: I love my mom. *squee*.
9) Bella's Lullaby from the Twilight soundtrack. I haven't yet run out and buy the Twilight DVD (because I am lazy), but I do own the soundtrack, and I listened on repeat the instrumental to Bella's Lullaby as I had a nap. *Squee*.
Squee moments totally make it worth getting up everyday and working like a slave, don't you agree?
20 March 2009
What have you done today to make you feel proud?It's never too late to tryWhat have you done today to make you feel proud?You could be so many peopleIf you make that break for freedomWhat have you done today to make you feel proud?
We need a changeDo it todayI can feel my spirit risingWe need a changeSo do it todayCause I can see a clear horizonWhat have you done today to make you feel proud?**********
"If you really take care of yourself, your body will take care of you". ~Bob Harper.
What steps do we take to make our weight loss goals a reality? In yesterday's blog, I spoke about the pitfalls of relying solely on motivation, specifically from others. But today, I wanted to focus on how we can use motivation as a source of strength.
In thinking of what to write today, I was going to come up with ideas. But when I started writing, I realized I was about to fall in the same trap that inspired this post in the first place. I realized that I cannot tell or force my ideas on others. That the things that might motivate me, may not work for others. And if I argue that our role is to inspire our friends instead of motivate our friends, then I bloody well couldn't just sit here and tell people how to motivate themselves.
So what do I write about then? How do I take the idea of motivation and move forward?
Then it hit me. Like someone going to McGyver to fix them out of a jam, I need to go to my McGyver. My person that can explain things in a way that makes sense to me. So who is my McGyver? Well, it all comes back to Bob..... Bob Harper that is.
It's not exactly a state secret that I LOVE BOB HARPER. And who better to talk about motivation then Bob Harper. View this and I will continue on.
What can we learn from Bob?
- Don't just sit back and wonder, get out and inquire
- Give it a try, and allow yourself to take part in the journey.
- Success is often found when you least expect it, but never found if you don't at least try.
- There is nothing wrong with travelling down a different road on your journey, whether it be by choice or by circumstance. If we keep taking the interstate, we end up missing the sights along the way.
- Even if you find success, that doesn't mean you have to settle for just that. Always seek your calling or allow yourself to have your calling seek you.
- Are you ready? Yes you are. The next step is to just do.
By the way, the song at the top is an excerpt from the song Proud, which is the theme song of the Biggest Loser. No better words to get you started, eh?
*Tomorrow I will unveil "Shoot the Shit Saturday", my post of random, light hearted stuff to end the week*
19 March 2009
*In my previous post on weightloss, Joanne and Junior both spoke about motivation. But the contrast between the two when it comes to motivation could not be any different. This post is part one of two on motivation and the weight loss journey.
Joanne is my friend. I have known her for over half my life. She figuratively lives 5 houses down from me. And since the beginning of time (or so it seems), we have tried to loose weight together. From joining Weight Watchers numerous times or joining the gym, we are queen's of the old join and ditch. That is to say, we have mastered the art of good intentions, and perfected the routine of ditching the program half way through. Recently, we both joined WW for the umpteenth time. And through no fault of her own, she broke her wrist slipping on ice while jogging *a pitful of living in Canada* .
In contrast, Junior recently blogged about his goal for 2009 to be fit and fine. And although we don't know each other except through blog, I was immediately motivated by his journey to want to improve myself too.
So this got me thinking. Why is it that with some people, you can motivate each other. And with others, it's a struggle?
Part could be because of the way we relate to weight. Although I have always considered myself big (because of bad body images), the reality is that growing up, I really wasn't. In fact, I was a scrawny sack of bones with big tits and thighs. Junior himself was skinny. So we know what it was like to be skinny. Our weight gain feels like a dissapointment about our lack of control at a time when we should know better. If we could just get our sh*t together and loose weight, we know we will keep it off because we will never want to go back to being overweight.
In contrast, Joanne was always bigger growing up and her weight loss was recent. So her emotions about weight would come from a different perspective on weight. In that she knows what it's like to be big and achieve success, but she is motviated by a fear of failure. That if she doesn't constantly try to maintain her weight loss, all it takes is one slip and because of gentics, she will gain it back like that.
So where am I going with this?
I belive in two things.
- Not everyone can be a compatible weight loss buddies.
- Seeking motivation from others instead of yourself will always lead to failure.
I discussed the first point; now let me expand on the second point.
If there is any thing I have learned from my numerous kicks at the can, it's that true motivation can only come within and from things that you can control.
I can't control others. They can't control me. Together we can't control the unexpected life events that interfere with our weight loss intentions.
I mean, Joanne breaks her wrist and I stop going. What is wrong with that sentance?
Is it the fault of Joanne's that I stopped going when there is a Weight Watchers 5 minutes from my office that is open daily? I can't unbreak Joanne's wrist. But like every other time in the past, when my external motivation is delayed, my internal motivation breaks down too. Yes, finding the right program goes a long way to helping. But true motivation means that you find a way to make whatever you are faced with work for you.
The fact of the matter is that when life throws you a curve, you and only you have to have some sort of anchor that keeps you in place when the world spins around you. It's awesome if you can have a friend/friends that motivates you. But if you don't find non-friend motivations, you will always be destined to fail. That doesn't mean that you never stop working out with your friends or sharing your journey. It's just that your friends cannot be the answer to your weight loss journey, nor the excuse for the setbacks you face.
Furthermore, I think that it is better to look to your friends for inspiration, not motivation.
I can never be dissapointed if I am inspired by what my friends are doing. Let the inspiration of their success be your motivation and take the pressure off of them to keep you motivated.
I will post tomorrow about what truly motivates me, and what we should be looking for when we seek motivation.
P.S. Jo and Junior: You both inspire me.
18 March 2009
17 March 2009
Yes, I understand that they are drunken frankies who blow the dole on beer. And yes, Irish men are not exactly known for being the most responsible, caring men.
*look at me being all judgemental and pandering to common cultural stereotypes...but if the shoe fits....*
All that aside, they are my weakness. Irish men are my Chris Brown to Rhianna. No matter what wrongs against me, I keep wanting more.
I need to look deep into my childhood, with my evil protestant ways to understand why I love Irish men. And like all parts of my life, this obsession can be traced to my babysitter...the television.
Daniel Day Lewis. He was the first of a long list of Irish men who I just loved. He shows such a passion for the craft, one can only hope it translates to passion somewhere else. And all girls love passionate men right?
Jonathan Rhys Myers: I would tap him all day long. Today, tomorrow, forever.
****Disclaimer: Not all Irish men are hot. As the joke above implies, I google searched Shane McGowan to "get the joke"...and sadly, I do. Enjoy.
I was going to end with an Irish blessing, but then I got this e-mailed to me and it made me laugh. I played it 27 times at work. So enjoy Riverdance Bears!
16 March 2009
#5- Irish Sweaters: The Irish seem to get that people want to wear sweaters for comfort and warm. None of this cheap material crudely sewn together crap. No siree. The quality of an aran sweater is unparalled to anything else constructed. I can just imagine a hard working farmer's wife, weaving sheeps wool, using a standard design passed on from previous generations.
Plus, take a look at the picture on the side. Is that not the most romatic image? A normal sized average woman wearing sweats and a sweater, with a hot guy to snuggle with. *SIGH*
#4- Irish Jewellery: My sister Jennifer, more Irish then I, loves Claddaugh Rings. Having never heard of them, Jennifer took me to the Irish booth at Heritage Days, were
Like most Irish jewellery, the design is very deliberate and has a history behind it. Like celtic crosses and other jewellery that the Irish produce, there is a complex design and story behind everything that is crafted. I don't normally like or wear gold, except for Irish jewellery. When I get married, I pray that it's to an Irish man who will buy me Irish jewellery. Or a regular guy, as long as he buys me Irish jewellery. ;)
#3- Irish Alcahol: I think this picture pretty much says it all. *edited to add that the the building in the picture is a beer store* 'Nuff said.
#2- Irish Entertainment: I love all things when it comes to Irish Entertainment. The Irish more than any other culture can tell a good weaving gripping story. While mostly pathos and angst (as seems to be the defining narrative), in story, song or movie, there is an enduring hope and a loving endurance.
I love movies that take place in Ireland or tell Irish stories (examples: In the Name of the Father, Angela's Ashes, P.S. I Love You, Circle of Friends, In America, Boondock Saints, Waking Ned Devine, Micheal Collins and so on). The books take those emotions and extend it to the core of you.
One book I am reading right now is Angela's Ashes. I saw the movie a few years back and am finally getting around to the book. I can relate to so much, even if my situation was signficantly better. The situations of living in an Irish family may very, but the emotions are the same.
Finally, can you include a post without mentioning Irish music? I think not. When I think back to the my favourite groups, or my favourite songs, chances are they are compose by an Irish composer. U2 is the obvious group that everyone things of, and I could list to Sunday Bloody Sunday all day long. And what is a bar song without House of Pain ?
*jump around, jump around, jump up, jump up and get down...jump jump jump". <--you can thank me later when you are trying to sleep at night but this song won't leave your head.
But the less obvious muscians include The Cranberries. This was the first group that mom and I liked together. They came out in the 90's and they sound Irish.
The best singer by far though is Enya. When I'm stressed, when I'm relaxed, when I need to concetrate, or when I'm going for walks in the rain...Enya will be in my MP3 list.
Go have a listen:
***So...that leaves me with one thing that I love about the Irish. What can I possibly love more than music, and books, and movies, and rings and sweaters and beer??? Tune in tomorrow as I reveal my number one Irish obsession. ****
P.S. Although anyone who knows me knows what is missing..ha ha. It will be so obvious tomorrow.
15 March 2009
- Random musings
- My life and all its'
- Reality TV (a trainwreck that I firmly ride)
- Music, Literature, Movies, and other general leisure pursuits
- My Catholic Conversion journey
- Shoot the shit about anything, really
So enjoy and I hope to post daily; or at least as often as I can being that I am a women of independant means (read: one paycheque away from complete and utter destitution).