Dear Friends, I need help. I am out of control, and I don't know how to stop. Those of you who have known me a long time, or have even regularly read this blog for awhile, know my struggle with weight--a battle with my scale that has been raging for as long as I can remember. You've heard me say I was out of control before, and you've heard me say I had to make a change. This time, though, something's different. I'm scared. I'm the heaviest I've ever been, and I'm scared. I'm scared of this place I'm in. I'm scared of the disappointment that lies in my closet. I'm scared of what I'm doing to my body and my health. I'm scared I don't have the srength to overcome this. I'm scared of the future if I don't. I make jokes, self-deprecate, play if off, and change the subject--all to deflect and distract from the scary reality of how I really feel. An act that's not fooling anyone, really--least of all me. I need God's help to make it through every tempation-filled day, for every moment I've known success in this life has been with Him by my side. I'm asking for your help in the form of thoughts and prayers. Prayers for strength, resolve, commitment, and success against this demon I've been fighting most of my life. Your thoughts and prayers would mean more to me than I could possibly convey. Thanks for being there, thanks for listening. Thanks for everything, always. All my love,
Hi, friends... Just wanted to share a few of my favorite pics from Dallas. I wish I was still there, and I really wish it was still spring break! Hope y'all are having a great week!
Becca jamming to My Humps
Welcome to Dallas!
Out at The Quarter
Black Eyed Peas!
Becca and I at the Peas
The big finish... Fergie Ferg + confetti = AWESOME
Dallas was awesome. I loved every minute of the trip, and I had the best time with some crazy fun people. I have lots of pics (of course) which I hope will be up very soon, but for now I'll just share with you a few of my favorite things about the trip.
The Top 10 Things that Made Dallas Awesome
10. Yogurt. I don't remember the last time I ate so much frozen yogurt, and I know for a fact I've never had any like this. It was seriously the freshest, most amazing thing I've ever put in my mouth. OrangeCup and Yogalicious are divine establishments.
9. Solving all the world's problems. Becca and I solved the majority of them on the drive to Dallas and, with some help from Kathleen and Anna, had them all solved by the time the weekend drew to a close. If the world would just give us fifteen minutes and a bull horn, we could have it all set straight. Easy enough, right?
8. Becca's numerous traffic-related anxiety attacks. You haven't lived until you've seen Becca have a freak-out meltdown in the middle of traffic. It's classic, really. There were several throughout the course of this weekend, and one or two even took place while Becca wasn't even the driver. Oh, yeah, and there was the time she made us park in the next-to-last spot of a huge lot just because "driving around the whole place just isn't worth it." Um, speak for yourself, Bec.
7. Living through a visit to Sam Moon and the Rock 'n' Rollercoaster ride from hell it took to get us there. I thought on numerous occasions that I was going to see my lunch reappear, yet no one else in the car took me at all seriously. (Probably because most of the attention was going to Becca... see #8.) I risked my life and rolled down my window in a particularly seedy part of the ghetto just to gasp in the cool air. And don't even get me started on Sam Moon, this mega-store jam-packed with discount purses, jewelry, etc and about a zillion people scrounging around for the most sought-after bargain. I wanted to start pushing people down and run for the exit more than one time while I was there.
6. Liar's Den. This bar had it all. A dance floor where Kathleen could cut a rug, a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the skyline where Becca and I could make new friends, and a staircase connecting the two that Anna could run up and down eight million times.
5. Four inches of snow on the ground and not one article of appropriate clothing. Friday when a lady told us it was supposed to snow the next day, we walked out in the 75 degree sunshine and immediately proclaimed her insane. The next day, however, when running through the fattest snowflakes I've ever seen dressed in the heaviest pieces of clothing we brought (mere cardigans), we thought perhaps we should have paid her a little more attention. Saturday night I slept under four blankets (one of which was a bedspread), and Anna's dog was dressed more warmly than me.
4. Meeting a sweet boy who reminded me that all men are not, in fact, neanderthals. My faith in the male race has been marginally restored, at least temporarily.
3. Problematic sleeping arrangements. One night I slept upright like Abraham Lincoln. Becca spent a night on the hardwood floor, waking up saying it felt like "a bed of nails on concrete." Anna curled up in the tiniest ball ever imagined and perched on the end of the couch. I could feel the cold air of the snow coming in through the window even underneath my scores of heavy blankets. Kathleen, however, somehow managed to end up in the warm, comfortable bed every night... how did that happen, Kat?
2. The most awesome concert ever. I was beyond pumped to see the Peas, but I was just pretty pumped to see Ludacris. Let me tell you, Luda blew it out of the park. He was unbelievable, and his back-up dancers shaking their moneymakers would blow your mind. The Peas were just as off-the-charts amazing as I had hoped they would be, and I never wanted the concert to end. I've never really understood watching a concert on DVD, but I wish I had a recording of this one I could watch over and over and over again.
1. Laughing my head off. Whether it was the car that smelled like a frat house, the inappropriate things we seemed to constantly be saying, the recaps of the night before, or Becca's outfit on the ride home, we were constantly in stitches. I know the people around us wished we would pipe down and chill out, but we just couldn't do it. We were just having too much fun. I can't wait to go back to Dallas again soon and laugh until I can't breathe all over again.
Ok, so I love late night television. This is a totally new thing, as I am usually reading or sleeping during these shows, but, as of late, I can't miss my late night favorites.
I enjoy Jay Leno, and I think he's pretty funny a lot of the time. I especially love Headlines, and he's crazy funny with his guests. My real love, though, is Jimmy Fallon. Jay is really just a gateway to Jimmy, for I cannot miss him these days. He is the biggest goofball most of the time, and he is incredibly awkard a lot of the time, too. He breaks character and laughs his way through sketches all the time, and I think it's hilarious. All of it. I scream with laughter on my couch watching him almost every night (all three weeks I've been watching him religiously, mind you). He is really a total idiot with his guests, and he thinks he has this great singing voice that he always wants to show off. He calls everybody pal and he asks the most awkward questions and he plays the most asinine games with his audience. I adore it. His thank you notes practically knock me out of my chair I'm laughing so hard, and his impersonations and voices are a total scream. I am ridiculously obsessed love him. Obviously. Plus I think he's a doll. I have absolutely no business staying up until 12:30 every morning, but I can't miss any of Jimmy's hi-jinks and shenanigans. He's just too funny. I'll have craters under my eyes in the morning, but at least I'll go to sleep laughing, I guess.
In other news, it's spring break... whoop whoop. Spring break is definitely one of the perks of still being in school at age twenty-five and an even better reason to pursue a career in education. Spring break for life? Don't mind if I do. Tomorrow morning I'm headed to Dallas with some insanely fun ladies--Becca, Kat, and Anna--for a fun visit and the Black Eyed Peas concert. I'm sooooooo sooooooo excited, and I know we are going to have the best time! Those of you that are on spring break: I hope you've had an amazing week. Those of you that aren't: er... sorry. If it were up to me, there'd be spring break for all.
Ok, so maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the only one who, from almost the first minute of the show last night, was wholly underwhelmed. Maybe I was expecting too much; maybe last year was just too perfect to top. Maybe, for whatever reason, I had reservations going in. Maybe I'm the problem here, the Oscar grouch, if you will. Whatever it was, whatever the problem--I didn't like it. You read me right: Oscar night was a total bust for me. If you know me at all you know how much I love movies. I love everything about them, and I love love love the shows that honor the best of them. Oscar night is like Christmas morning for this movie lover, or, well, at least it usually is. This Oscar night was what I imagine finding coal in your stocking to feel like. All the usual hype with not one bit of the follow-through. I felt jipped. Ripped off. Hood-winked. Bamboozled. Taken for a ride. Deceived. Made a fool of. I suppose it all started when Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin first took the stage. I must admit, I am not an Alec Baldwin fan, but I am a Steve Martin fanatic, so I was hoping one might even out the other. Well... not so much. They just didn't flow for me. Most of their jokes fell flat all over the place, eliciting little more than mere chuckles throughout the audience. Steve Martin had a few humorous moments throughout the show, but Alec Baldwin was pure stupidity, I thought. Perhaps Steve should have been allowed to host solo again?
In addition to the letdown of the overhyped hosts, I was sadly underwhelmed by the dresses on the red carpet. Usually I can't decide which gown and what jewels I adore most, but I saw very few this year that even piqued my interest. You know it's a barren year when Sigourney Weaver's ensemble was my favorite, for she is anything but a fashion plate. Even hers was nothing fabulous, it was, for me, simply more attracive and less odd than the rest. (Like, for example, Sarah Jessica Parker... what was going on with that disaster?) I will continue my negative Nancy overview of the show by complaining about how few meaningful acceptance speeches there were. I'm not pretending that every actor who stands up there with that golden man should or will eloquently bowl over the audience, but there are usually a few great ones and at least one incredibly touching moment by a person of whom you've probably never heard (think a sound editor whose touching tribute to his deceased father brings you to tears or a foreign film director whose overwhelming appreciation and gratitude just touches your heart). This year, though, with the exception of Sandra Bullock, whose speech was poignant, heartfelt, touching, and unbelievably sweet all at once, they were all rather blah. Much like the broadcast as a whole, if you ask me. The presenters were bumbling around through intros like they'd missed rehearsal and didn't act for a living; the audience could have been watching a croquet match for all the excitement that showed on their faces; for the most part, every win was predictable and simply the last in a series of statues this awards season. The montages weren't even good; how hard is it to mess up a montage?! Also, if all these young actors (Kristen Stewart, Taylor Lautner, Miley Cyrus, Amanda Seyfried, for example) can't swallow their nerves to present awards, then perhaps Hollywood's high schoolers should remain in their seats. Man, I am being so harsh. I'm not a witch, really, I just get so mad when the night that is supposed to be Hollywood at its most glamourous, most fabulous, falls unbelievably flat. I just found myself so distracted by the shortcomings of the show that I couldn't focus on the movies, actors, and film crews it was supposed to be honoring, and that's not why I tuned in. I don't get mad over much, really, but turn the Oscars into a snoozefest and you'll hear from me.
Finally, I've saved the thing that made me most sad for last. I adore John Hughes. So many of his masterpieces are my most favorite of favorite movies. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Home Alone. The Breakfast Club. Vacation. Sixteen Candles. Pretty in Pink. Uncle Buck. I could go on and on, but you get my drift. John Hughes was a comedic genius, and he deserves not only a fabulous montage tribute but a hilarious one, as well. It wasn't hilarious; it wasn't even funny. I understand being respectful to the Hughes family in their time of loss, but, if you're going to honor John Hughes, honor him with what he brought to the world--laughter. Quite possibly the funniest filmmaker of all time, the man deserved better than that wholly lame unfunny tribute. Like I said at the beginning, maybe it's me. If it were up to me, however, Adam Shankman, who directed this year's show, would probably not even make the guest list for next year.
Maybe I really am Oscar the Grouch...
What did y'all think? Come on... tell me all about it. It's okay if you loved it; I won't berate you in some future post. I promise.
Lately, I have been dabbling in a little writing of poetry. It comes upon me in the most unexpected of moments, this desire to dash off a bit of verse, but I've decided to give in to it and see where it takes me. I hope you'll occasionally indulge me sharing a piece with you.
movies, books, the perfect song--real life inspiration so they say not sure if i believe anymore am i too old for fairy tales? my head says yes but my heart wishes on a star and hopes the answer's no reality bites, anyway
unrequited, unreturned, one-sided, "we're better off as friends"--
you can't force something that's not there
no matter whose responsible, it feels the same
standing alone during a slow song at a sixth grade dance
not really bitter, not even sad
resigned. accepting.
perhaps that is worse
am i accepting defeat? raising the white flag?
not yet
hopeless romantics never give up
it's against our very nature
a fatal flaw? perhaps.
nightly prayers suffice for now
books, movies, and wedding invitations keep the dream alive
Today is my mom's birthday. She's a pretty funny lady, and there are so many wonderful things I could say about her. Today, however, I chose to go in a different direction. The following are a few of the crazy/funny/neurotic/maddening/insane things I love about my mom.
Top 10 Crazy Things I Love About My Mom:
10. I love that my mother could talk to a brick wall. Like my grandmother before her, this lady has the true gift of gab, and she can sometimes be found blabbering with total strangers about absolutely nothing. This trait has obviously skipped a generation in me, for I would much prefer to sit in silence with my nose buried in a book to prattling away with a person I'll likely never see again. (Why do I need to talk to strangers when I can spill my guts to all of you?!)
9. I love that my mom still cries every time I come home and leave again. Keep in mind that I a) have been in college for basically seven years, and b) live twenty-five miles from my mother's house. It never fails, though, she cries every time I arrive and every time I leave. I must note, however, that my mother cries at, well, a lot--another way in which we are fundamentally different.
8. I love that my mother is technologically impaired--big time. Although I have shown her how to use her DVD player probably twenty-eight times, it still confounds her; the cell phone is a constant source of confusion; the answering machine might as well be the Rosetta stone, as close as she is to figuring out how it works. Technology just isn't her thing--hence why I set her up a gmail account and she promptly forgot the password, never to log in again.
7. I love that my mother polishes her polished fingernails. This one I just find funny. She gets a manicure every two weeks (her luxury she treats herself to), but every morning she polishes the nails to keep them shiny. I don't mean she reapplies topcoat; I mean she sort of buffs them with a paper towel or Kleenex to keep them at their shiniest. She is convinced this makes her manicure last longer, and who am I to argue?
6. I love that my mother refuses to acknowledge that I'm a grown up. She's constantly reminding me to lock my doors, get gas, RSVP to events, call when I get there, etc., etc., etc. It's a good thing she does this so often because I couldn't possibly remember to, say, pay my car insurance if she didn't remind me. Sometimes she even asks me if I want her to call and wake me up in the morning, as if I don't wake up every morning on my own.
5. I love that my mom has a love/hate relationship with Chapstick. I have tried for years to tell her that, every time her lips are dry, she doesn't have to reapply lipstick, for that is why Chapstick and lip balm were invented. She won't have it, though. She's whipping out that lipstick tube every chance she gets, even though there's tubes of Chapstick stashed in every drawer in our house. She also keeps new tubes of lipstick in the freezer, which wholly baffles me. What is the reason behind this? Do they go bad?
4. I love that my mom is a master at Trivial Pursuit. The woman is a trivia sponge, and she is great to have on your team when playing Trivial Pursuit. She has a great memory, and she is almost always dead-on.
3. I love that my mom is a world class whistler. Seriously, she can whistle anything--and at unbelievably shrill decibels, as well. Apparently, according to family legend, some man was on The Tonight Show decades ago, and he was not nearly as good as my mom, so my family is always saying she missed her calling. As what, I'm not quite sure. Her whistling is something to be experienced, though--especially her specialty, John Philip Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever.
2. I love that my mother has selective hearing. When she's watching the news, she can hear, without fail, every time the words kidnapped, escaped, missing, murdered, etc. pop up. More often than not, she will report these tragic stories to me as soon as she can get me on the phone and keep me updated on them as they develop.
1. I love that my mother is an amateur meteorologist. She keeps me informed of when snow, ice, torrential rain, straightline wind, tornado, hurricane, flood, thunder and lightening, and extreme cold/heat is predicted, whether it applies to my region or not. She devotedly checks the local on the 8s, whereas I don't even know what channel is the Weather Channel.
For all the ways that we are different, we are an awful lot alike, and for that I am so thankful. My mother is a shining example to me and a great inspiration. More than that, though, she is a great friend, and we have so much fun together. Happy Birthday, mom! Hope you have the best day! Love you!!
For the last two weeks, I was glued to the Olympics. I couldn't get enough of them, which is wholly uncharacteristic for me, as I generally loathe sports of all kinds. No matter the sport, though, I just couldn't turn it off. I saw every upset; I experienced every victory, every defeat, and, now, I miss them like crazy.
The following are thoughts, musings, questions, observations, etc. I jotted down during the games or have marinated over in the hours since they ended.
--Sarah MacLachlan's necklace at the opening ceremony was to-die-for.
--Snowboarding is so cool. Who knew?
--If I had to ski for six miles, you could just leave me on a mountainside to die. Seriously, my frozen remains would undoubtedly be found long after the closing ceremony had drawn to a close. How people ski thirty-one miles I cannot even fathom.
--I find it disgusting how hockey players just spit right on the ice.
--I adore Apolo Ohno. I could be persuaded to wear a Rambo-style bandana in support of him anyday.
--I love that Polo is one of the American sponsors. Seriously, wearing Polo at the Olympics makes the US of A look oh-so-classy.
--Who knew Bob Costas was funny?
--I hate when American athletes don't sing the national anthem. Thank you Seth Wescott and Johnny Spillane for belting it out.
--I was sad to see the absence of the Jamaican bobsled team.
--I used my Visa during the Olympics just to have the opportunity to win the "Trip to Every Winter Olympics Until You Die" prize. I'm waiting for my winning notification to arrive any day now...
--Why is it always the girl that falls when figure skating pairs do side-by-side jumps?
--I love that the American snowboarders pants looked like jeans.
--How funny is that McDonald's commercial where the bobsled pulls up to the drive-thru window?
--I screamed with laughter at Jimmy Fallon's Olympic thank you notes.
--What exactly is the difference between a triple salchow, triple axle, triple flip, triple toe loop, triple loop, and triple lutz? They all look the same to me... --Poor Lindsay Jacobellis: no longer the showboatin' high schooler, out to prove she deserves her gold medal this time--only to be disqualified in the snowcross semifinal. --I have a mini-crush on Jeremy Abbott, and I wanted to give him a hug after everyone called his Olympic debut "disastrous." --I would love to hang out with Shaun White, whose hair, according to my mother, is beautiful but "would look so much prettier on a girl." --How do speed skaters keep from just falling over to one side while they're going round and round at about a zillion miles an hour? --Apolo and his dad are about the cutest father/son duo I've ever seen. --I wish I could have a team of people following me around all the time with a cool name like the Vonntourage. I wonder what they could be called? --Evan Lysacek is so pretty. He has the most gorgeous teeth I've ever seen, and yes, I will, indeed, be watching him on Dancing with the Stars. Don't you worry about that.
--Speed skating relays are the most confusing things I've ever seen.
--Why does Shaun White wear his bandana like a bandit preparing to rob a bank? It doesn't really matter because, dude, Shaun White is awesome.
--I love all the Visa/Olympics commercials narrated by Morgan Freeman.
--Would the Olympics be the Olympics without commenators like Scott Hamilton and anchormen like Bob Costas?
--Why are figure skating audiences so eager to clap that they often end up keeping a beat that doesn't actually go with the music being skated to?
--I am all about universality, but something is just off to me when men from the Czech Republic and Japan skate routines based on American icons like Gene Kelley and Charlie Chaplin.
--When I was little, I aspired to being a figure skating judge. Sometimes I still find myself making comments as if I were a judge or disputing the commentators and judges' opinions--alone in my apartment, mind you.
--Johnny Weir is so weird, but so cool and a really great skater.
--Check out this video:
Nancy Kerrigan Reports on the Hot Olympic Bachelors at The Insider If this is where all the eligible bachelors can be found, then I will, in fact, be single for life, or I will break my neck attempting to chase some foxy young thang all over the slopes. Neither look particularly promising... --It is my personal opinion that people who are five-and-a-half months pregnant have no business competing in the Olympics. Along the same line, if people five-and-a-half months pregnant can compete in an event, perhaps said event should not really be an Olympic sport?? --Lindsey Vonn has pretty hair. If I had to run around with a helmet on all the time, my hair would be a flattened-out-greased-up disaster. --It baffles me that people don't die every day playing hockey. Brutal doesn't even begin to describe this game. --I think it's difficult for me to watch Olympic hockey because I find myself constantly scanning the crowd for Emilio Estevez and fighting the urge to chant "Quack... quack... quack..." --Ice dancing with your brother? Call me old-fashioned, but I just think that's strange. --How funny was Apolo's face at the end of his last individual race (500m)? His mischevious look seemed to say, "I'm not sure why everyone else fell down, but I had nothing to do with it..." --How does an Olympic sport become an Olympic sport? It is my feeling that a few of them should be re-examined. --I sat on my couch and sobbed when Canadian Joannie Rouchette [whose mother died unexpectedly 2 days earlier] skated. She was crying, her father was crying, I'm pretty sure Scott Hamilton was crying; why try to fight tears when everyone else is sobbing already?? I secretly cheered more for her than the Americans. --Olympic commentators crack me up. They say the silliest, dumbest, most obvious things sometimes, and never have I ever heard people get so excited about things like cross-country skiing and the luge. --There is a part of me that secretly adores a scandalous, heartbreaking disqualification or a dramatic upset. --Aerial ski jump is a cool sport. It's kind of the winter Olympic version of gymnastics combined with diving. --How many times have you heard commentators herald the skate/run/ski/jump/heat/game of an athlete's life over the past few weeks? Millions, it seems like. --That P&G commercial where you can read the Olympic mom's lips saying "That's my baby!!" gets me every time. --Just watching hockey absolutely wears me out. Remind me to never attempt participating in it. --Without Cool Runnings and The Mighty Ducks, I would know nothing about winter Olympic sports. --Although the gold medal hockey game was outstanding on both sides, knowing that almost every Canadian player plays for an American NHL team--and will probably return to that team tomorrow--is the teeniest bit hard to swallow. --Apolo Ohno is the very definition of a class act, if you ask me. He's like the wise upperclassman of the Olympics, calling the younger athletes "boys" and remaining a great example at every turn. --I think I have probably cried more in the last two weeks watching the Olympics than I have in the last two years... --I'm obsessed with the United States' uniforms for the closing ceremony, and I would secretly like to have one for myself.
--Michael Buble is the most dapper Canadian ever. Period.
--Nickelback at the closing ceremony? Come on, Canada, I feel like you could go out on a better note than that...
--Hats off to Canada for what appears to have been an amazing Olympic event all around. I already wanted to visit Canada, but now it's been boosted to a bit higher spot on my list.
--I feel like I know so many of these athletes now, and it makes me sad to know that I might not see them again.
--Watching events like the Olympics, featuring hundreds of thousands of athletes from all over the globe, is a perfect argument for the importance of athletes as public figures. They have the ability to change lives and influence people. Unlike actors, they're playing themselves, and their actions matter to the people watching them. They hold immense power, and we all know what comes along with that.
--Olympic montage set to music of Remember the Titans? Give me the Kleenex now; I know the waterworks are coming.
--The class of 2003, featuring yours truly, had a very strong appearance at this game, which is notable because we're a little old to be topping the podium. Way to go, Evan Lysacek, Lindsey Vonn, Julia Mancuso, and Tanith Belbin.
--As if I didn't already have a plate full of musician, actor, book and television character boyfriends, I've now taken on the realm of athletes, as well. My loves of the Olympics include: Evan Lysacek, Shaun White, Seth Wescott, Graham Watanabe, Apolo Ohno, J.R. Celski, Alex Bilodeau, various members of men's hockey teams, and, finally, Bill Demong, who proposed to his girlfriend after winning a gold and silver medal--what a doll.
--I'll go ahead and tell y'all a little secret. I want to be there in 2012 for the summer Olympics in London. I want to be there bad. I actually cried Sunday night when they were talking about it. I'm already making the initial thoughts and plans toward being there, and I will be devastated if I can't make it happen. I'm still looking for a travel partner if anybody wants to make the journey with me...
--Finally, I'm going to go out on a limb and make a really big statement. I think the Olympics might be the greatest international event in the world today. In a world where, most days, people couldn't care less about anyone but themselves, things are different during the Olympics. People reach out to other people, and the spirit of competition unifies the world. Heros rise from nowhere; unlikely victors overcome insurmountable obstacles; winners make mistakes and, for once, lose graciously; the impossible happens; dreams come true. For two weeks every two years, the world is united: laughing, crying, gaping, cheering--we're all doing it together.
