Taking my own advice


The other night I was giving a very close friend of mine advice on her marriage. And I mean I was laying down the law with a bunch of “how dare he” and “you shoulda”, “You have too” and a few ” you better’s” thrown in for dramatic effect. But the one consistent thing I have been telling her and anyone else who will listen is that “If you don’t like the way your life is going, then change it”… As I stood on my soap box preaching to her about her situation and how I thought she ought to fix it when suddenly I realized that I had gotten away from my own core values.
There are many things I no longer like about my life. The fact that I don’t put healthy eating and exercise on my daily list. The fact that I do not invest as much time in my direct sales business as I had originally thought I would when I signed up. Even how a few of my own personal relationships have been going including my romantic one. None of these things are as major or as destructive as the breakdown of a marriage and I am not trying to take away from her personal struggle at all. What I am trying to bring to light is that it is time I reevaluate my own “should have’s” and “I betters”.
The simple fact is that my life and the direction in which it is going is solely up to me and the decisions I make. More than four years ago I started a weight loss journey that took daily dedication, exercise and constant mental debates. I worked hard and because of it I lost 148lbs. I was tired of being obese and miserable and unhealthy but most of all I was exhausted from hearing my own voice make the same complaints so I did something to change it.
Three years ago next month my 15 year relationship/marriage started its quick decent into the big D. We had been miserable with one another and ourselves for years but struggled to stay together because we had a daughter and didn’t think we had a choice. Eventually I got tired of seeing his face and blaming every bit of my depression and unhappiness on him. So I took a drastic step and changed my (our) world. I don’t know if it was the “right thing” to do or not but three years later we both are in completely different worlds and our daughter is a well adjusted happier person for it.
So now I sit back and I look at what I have going on now. Do I like the fact that I have regained 25lbs? not as all! But until now I have done nothing to lose it including NOT exercise. If, I were to be completely honest with you I would admit that I am munching on DOTS as I type this. (It’s time to take the reins again and hit the gym)
What about my relationships? I will die and old lady saying that “People treat you the way you ALLOW them to treat you”. It is advice that I give to my BFF’s and my daughter and I honestly in my heart believe this. I also believe that How I allow myself to be treated is not only a reflection of my confidence (or lack of) but it is also be closely watched by a future woman who will see how her mother intact with men and will naturally think this the appropriate way to be treated. I didn’t realize this until recently when I started rehashing how I grew up and what my life was like when I was my daughters age. I can see now that my mother and her numerous unhealthy relationships when men had a drastic affect on me. Watching her be disrespected by men, married men not only gave me a poor basis as to what I deserved but it gave me a instinctive distrust of men in general. (Don’t fret, I am working on this in therapy and should be “cured” by the time I die)
The moral of this rant is that I need to get off my soap box and take my own advice. I’ve been through a lot and can actually give pretty darn good advice, if anyone would just listen! 😉

George Eliot

Contrast of two worlds


When we first met he told me he was a minimalist but I’m not sure I truly appreciated what he was saying until I went to his apartment for the first time. Let me start by saying that I am a girl in every sense of the word. Basically I like “stuff”. I like things that shine,things that twinkle, things that have zero purpose in life other than to look pretty. I like to own books. I do crafts and own all the thing-a-ma-bobs that go along with crafting. Scissors? I have 4 different pair and each serves a different purpose. Bags? yes…please. I love bags and totes and containers to put my other bags and purses into. Monogram it?! Hell yes! If it has my initial then you can guarantee I will have at least one…maybe two in different colors. So my life doesn’t lack for “things” and bags to put them into but I did not really understand what a “Minimalist” was until I started dating my BF. His habitat is eerily empty. His floors are as bare and clean. He has very modern furniture that remind me of sitting in a dentist’s office, glass table and leather couch. His bed is simple and white without the trapping of throw pillows or splash of color. What I found surprising is how much I enjoy going to his place. At first I thought it was just because I didn’t have the responsibility of my daughter since she was spending every other weekend with her father. However; the more time I spend there the more I like the simplicity of his environment. There isn’t a bunch of things that need putting away. Not the stacks of papers that are aways waiting for me to declutter. Nothing looks out of place and in need of dusting.
I do notice the little touches that make it his. There is a picture of us tucked neatly on a small piece of wall. He has his very favorite books on a shelf. A single shelf with only the cream of the crop. He has a piece of art work displayed in the living room and his sheets are high quality and extremely comfortable. It makes me wonder two specific things. 1) How does he survive with so little belongings and 2) How would WE ever be able to live together?…. 🙂

That’s my foot in a Louboutin!

I held a pair of Christian Louboutin

I held a pair of Christian Louboutin

I have always wanted a pair of Christian Louboutin heels… always. Since I first saw that red bottom shoe I have imagined myself sexily swaying in a pair of his beautifully designed shoes…THEN I saw how much they cost. My dream faded, but only slightly. I have not completely given up on the fact that one day despite the protest of my checking and the steady stream of collection calls from student loans I WILL one day walk in a pair of Louboutin that I own.
The other weekend when my boyfriend took me to Atlanta he wanted me to at least “try on a pair”. My heart was giddy at the idea of seeing a pair in real life. I was anxiously anticipating what this experience was going to be like. As we walked into Saks Fifth Avenue I imagined being approached by a well coifed salesperson asking in a nasally tone if she could “be of assistance” while giving me that “I know you can’t afford these” look. Instead… $1395 pair of shoes on a sales rack! WHAT THE F! Are you kidding me? and not only were they on a sale rack, but they were out in the middle of the aisle on a payless style shoe rack! I kid you not… These shoes that I have spent my entire fashionhood coveting were NOT auspiciously displayed with spot lighting were I could walk up too and ogle and point but instead were thrown onto a gaudy sales rack with 50 other pair of designer BUT not all Louboutin shoes. Had I walked into a candid camera moment? Did my boyfriend set me up to be made fun of on Youtube? When was Ashtin Kutcher going to pop out and start laughing at this clearly set up prop?… Nope. It was for real. The moment that was supposed to be a part of my fantasy fashion dream was no more glamorous than if I went into K-mart for a buy one get one 50% off….

Don’t get me wrong… I DID try them on and they ARE as beautiful in person as they have been portrayed on pintrest, and if I am being completely honest about this whole thing, I DID spend entirely too much time standing in the middle of that aisle holding those shoes while I tried to calculate how long it would take me to pay off my credit card HAD I had enough left on it too charge them. I knew I couldn’t afford them no matter how I tried to rearrange my budget and made internal deals with myself that I could go weeks eating only romaine noodles. How I didn’t actually NEED lights at home. Nope, this didn’t stop me from daydreaming about how Mr. Louboutin had designed these heels with me personally in mind. How I could sashay in any social situation wearing these heels that would make me 6’4″ and be adored by any man with a heartbeat…No, even with this socially unacceptable display of blantant disregard for what should be considered a masterpiece in footwear, I still felt like a princess… If even for just a moment in time… sigh

Losing my battle….with CAKE!


I am a plus size woman. I imagine that I will always be one even when the number on the scale says I am in my normal BMI. January 2010 I weighed 316 pounds and started the journey to a healthier lifestyle. It took me a little over a year to reach my goal of 160 (I weighed 160 on March 12, 2011) … I had lost a total of 156 pound. Then my life was perfect! hahahahahaha ok, if you are someone who has battled your weight then you know that in no way is my life perfect just because of a number on the scale! in fact it is even more of a battle for me. It is a battle I fight every single day of my life. Today, I am on the losing side as I have started back with my unhealthy eating habits and comfort in food. (I am an emotional eater, and my best friend is cake) Cake has been there for me when no one else in this world was. when I am sad, Cake will give me a hug. When I am anxious, cake is right there with me, anxious and delicious. Feeling ugly because your ex husband is now married to a woman who is 10 years younger and can have more babies while you are coasting into middle-aged with dried up ovaries? No worry, Cake will be right there for you with it’s delicious butter cream frosting and spongy goodness. What I learned years ago was that although Cake loves me as much as I love it Cake will not help me maintain a healthy weight.
What DOES help me maintain a healthy weight is living a healthy lifestyle. there is no secret pill or ingredient to add to your coffee that will help you lose weight. It comes down to taking in less calories then you use up. Yes, I have given the secret to skinny girls life…starvation. If you eat less calories then you burn you will lose weight. There are many ways of accomplishing this and not one of them is easy. Exercise is the key for my metabolism. I have to work out everyday and count every calorie that passes my lips. when I do this I get the results I desire. When I do NOT do this…well, I get the results I’ve been getting these past few months. my clothes no longer fit, the scale is going UP and Cake has been a regular visitor in my house…. What I need is to get RE-motivated and kick my best friend out of my life (except for special occasions :-)..
Let’s see if I can keep Cake at bay long enough to lose the 30lbs I have regained.

I will miss you my friend…. but we’ll see one another at birthdays ❤

I like this girls attitude!

She wore a bikini ... and she wore it well!

She wore a bikini … and she wore it well!


I pasted the above link because I wanted more people out there to read her story. simple as that. But you may be asking yourself, WHY? would I want to share Jenny Trout’s story? Let me tell you why… because 4 ½ years ago I weighted over 300lbs myself. I wore a size 26 jeans and would have NEVER been sharp enough to put my words to print in the same way that Jenny did. I felt the same way she feels but I simply did not have enough gumption or possible self esteem to tell others to basically go to hell. If you want to wear a bikini… then you should wear a bikini. I don’t care what number your clothing label says you are in reality it is how you feel about your own body.
Way to go Jenny! and btw you are one hot chic!

a day for depression….sigh




I haven’t done anything today except…exist… and barely at that. Trying to describe what it’s like to be depressed it like trying to explain what it’s like to be tired that can’t be fixed by sleep. You are both afraid to die and afraid to live. I’ve suffered varying levels of depression pretty much my whole life. I have the reasons from genetic to traumatic life events. But what I can’t seem to find is the cure. I’ve tried medication, meditation, therapy (group and individual), aromatherapy, jitsu-therapy (okay, I just made that one up). but nothing seems to work… about 5 months ago I had a complete nervous breakdown. The kind that requires hospitalization and intervention. My friends and family still tip toe around me, but they would rather it just be swept underneath the carpet and not discussed any longer. Am I better? HA…well, I AM better then I was when it first happened. My question now is, Will I ever truly be better? In all honesty, I no longer think I will completely beat this beast. Even when all things are going well and my medication is at it’s peak it still haunts me in my nightmares. there are some things that are done to a person that can never be undone, words spoken that can not be taken back and thoughts that can never be forgotten…

….I guess in the end all that matters is that I am still…trying?

My Tiffany and Co. experience.


This past weekend my boyfriend and I went on a “Romanti-cation”. A weekend getaway to celebrate 6 months from our first date. Needless to say it was a remarkable first date and has been a surprising and wonderful romance since the first time we met face to face. We chose a destination within driving distance, Atlanta Ga. I grew up within a 3 hour drive to Atlanta but have only been “through” the city in route to other destinations so I was excited to get to actually VISIT downtown. Let me start by clarifying that my MS (Main squeeze) is much more worldly then I am. He’s traveled extensively to all the places I’ve only read and dreamed about, so I am sure that all of this trip was for my exclusive benefit. There are so many parts of this trip I could and probably WILL blog about that I need to focus on the topic… Tiffany and Co. Yes, that famous tiffany blue box that every girl should have the experience of at least once in their lifetime (at least that’s what the slogan says). There are movies and songs made of this famous jeweler. I personally have only ever walked by one and never actually entered the store…until, this trip. My MS says as we walk into the fancy pants mall that boast stores with Hollywood names and brands so exclusive I’ve only read about them or seen them on others, that we should just walk into Tiffany’s to gawk.

Let me make it clear that I am not a gawker, I do not like to “window shop”. I like to BUY, so I have never gotten much out of looking at things that I know I can not buy if I so desired. However; I knew that he was just being sweet and fun and thought I would relax and go with the flow. As we walked into the door there was a huge burly security guard that was wearing a $1,000 suit and probably had a handgun strapped to his side (well, he DID have the speaker thing in his ear that you see in the movies). He welcomes us and asked if there is anything in particular we’d like to see. I said “we are just browsing” but in the same instant I think (what the hell, we are in Tiffany’s Why not..) “Can you point us to the engagement rings” (it came out of my mouth before I could stop and think about it) there was a slight gasp behind me (I think the air in my boyfriend’s lungs burst from his body at the shock of my request but I charged on without glancing back)

Standing at the famous case with the most beautiful and sought after rings in all the wedding world I was casual and pleasant. I noticed the sales lady had fantastic if not extremely heavy make-up. but expertly done and was wearing a classy suit whose maker I would have never known. She was telling me about the rings and asking what I was looking for but I wasn’t very engaged because I had intended to casually browse the brightly lit case and then move on so that my MS could catch his breath and lower his heart rate until…. Until I saw it… It was an emerald cut diamond on a medium thick band…and it sparkled like the stars in the sky as it called softly to me… “me… me…I am the one” I could hear it’s whisper in my ear. softly like the kiss of an angel on the tips of my ears… me… me…try me on…. That one! I pointed, I want to try that one on. ( I truly thought she would pull it out, hand it to me, and I would slip it on my finger ohhh at it and hand it back to her and be done. What did I know?

First, we had to step into a little alcove that was more like a living room. As we walked in and sat down I realized that both she and my MS had called my bluff. I had been called out and was going to have to follow through with this whole charade. I like to pretend I am a tough cookie from the old hood but when she sat that tray on the table all of a sudden my armor faded. She handed the ring to me and I immediately slipped it onto my left pinkie finger ( I am an amazon and knew not to even attempt to slide it on my ring finger because all rings are sized for the dainty little women whose mold I have never fit into). I held up my left hand and all of a sudden the air smelled like… love. Somewhere off in the distance I could hear a harp playing softly and the sweet scent of love waft through my veins. I glanced at my MS who is without dispute a very good-looking man and he looked… delicious. I thought to myself “yes, yes I could see growing old with him” and the image of me standing in a full length lace wedding gown wearing Christian Louboutin heels seemed not only possible but certain. I could see us standing at the alter of happy-ever-after as he slipped this sparkly heavenly creation on my finger….I was without doubt in love….with a ring.

Not only did my MS call my bluff but he ante upped it by talking with the sales lady about the size and clarity and some other C that I didn’t catch. He was asking questions and being all knowledgeable about something I had never bother to learn. You see, I have never owned a diamond. Yes I was married before, but I received a couch in leu of an engagement ring. Yes, you read that correct. a COUCH… like the kind you put into a living room and it becomes destroyed by cats who use it as a scratching post… a couch. My Ex’s new wife not only received an engagement ring but one with THREE diamonds! But I digress… So as the moment of cupids love started to sink into my cold bitter heart and MS and the sales lady were talking about the 3 C’s I casually flipped the little white tag that was discretely attached to the ring over. I froze, my heart stopped for at least 5 full heart beats. When it started again I could hear each beat thumping in my ear. a bead of sweet started to form and roll down my brow and I screamed “SWEET BABY JESUS, HAVE YOU LOST YO MIND!?”… ok, I didn’t actually say that out loud but that is only because I could not speak. I had lost the ability to form clear thoughts and put them into words…. I was… speechless. Literally for for the first time in my entire life I had been rendered speechless. By a little white piece of paper attached to a rock.

Tiffany and Co. was asking us to pay as much for this ring as we could pay for a small 3 bedroom 2 bath ranch in the neighborhood I currently live. I’m not sure what happened for a few minutes after this shock, I think they measured my finger and gave MS a business card with the pertinent information. Maybe I fainted although, I never lost concisness but I didn’t actually come back to my senses until we were out of the store and walking. It was at this point that I realized my heart really was thumping in my chest. I do not know exactly how much my MS makes because we are just getting to that part of our relationship but there is no amount he could tell me that I could ok the purchase of a ring that cost that much! I could never imagine wearing a small house on my finger everyday while I go about my life. I can’t see myself at the grocery story handing the checkout lady my coupons while wearing this ring. Don’t get me wrong, it was and is a beautiful ring, gorgeous in fact and I would absolutely love a life that would be so full financially that wearing this ring would not render me in complete panic at all times…. but it isn’t going to happen in this life time. I have carved myself into the type of person who would not allow such frivilousness regardless of my tax bracket. I’d like to think that I would have a ring that cost a 4th of that amount and use to rest to do good for others. Maybe give to a local food shelter or fund a bookmobile for my old neighborhood… I’m not sure to be honest. But I DO know for sure is that Tiffany and Co. has one outstandingly beautiful ring that I will spend the rest of my life speechless over 😉

The importance of a father’s opinion


Today my 11 year old daughter made her first “custom” my little pony. This is apparently a “major big deal” in the world that my daughter lives. She took an ordinary plastic pony. Painted it, gave it a unique “cutie” mark, cut and dyed it’s hair to make it into “Dr. Whooves”. She has always been extremely talented and artsy…when she was a toddler she was drawing animals in motion. So although I always give the appropriate oohhs and ahhs when she accomplishes a new project (which by the way can be multiple times in one afternoon) I have gotten use to seeing her art work as an everyday occurrence. What I haven’t gotten used to is her need for her father’s approval. Lately, she had been asking me to take a picture of said projects and text them to her father. Her father and I have come to that point in our Divorce that we only make contact when it is absolutely necessary. Even though I once thought if we could get out of the everyday fighting and arguing that had become out marriage we would be “friends” again. Like we were in college…um…No…that doesn’t ever really happen. Once you are married, you are never again friends. Okay, I digress… I sent him the picture and texted the words that she asked and forgot about it…she, did not. A short time later she asked, “What did Dede say about my pony?” (Dede is how she pronounces Daddy – it’s a “thing” between the two of them *eye roll*). It was then that I realized that like all the times before he had not bothered to respond. he never response when I send him a text unless it is something that will benefit him OR if our child is with him at the time, he will respond because I have threatened to get the lawyers involved if he did not… anyway, It’s taken me almost 3 years to come to a point where this no longer bothers me. It is the basics of our truth. I send a text, he ignores it. okay, no big deal….except, now it IS a big deal. Apparently a very big deal to my daughter. Not only does she need my applause and approval on her latest creation, but now she want’s her Dads too. It took 4 more text os saying how she wanted to know what he thought. and She was waiting for his response before he finally took the 15 seconds to send an appropriate text. I did not grow up with a father, in fact I had very little positive male influence my entire life so I don’t know nor need what she seems to know. Sure, I’ve read about how important a Fathers influence is in a little girls life. I know all the statistics and reports that endorse the theory, but it just didn’t sink in until tonight…. She need’s his approval as much (if not more *another eye roll*) as mine… so check your phone. If your child’s mother is asking for your opinion, comment or question… take the time to give it. It isn’t for her (trust me, she no longer cares what you think.) It is for your child.