We've all got it...

My first topic of the day, is cellulite. I have a perfectly good reason for this, and it only vaguely has anything to do with Kim Kardashian. As most of you know, I have recently started ballet and tap lessons again. (I will spare you all the gushing details at this time.) A couple of weeks ago, we had a substitute teacher. The new teacher was probably 18 at the very oldest, very thin, and an amazing true ballerina. For the first part of the class, she had on some cropped sweatpants over her dance shorts, but removed the pants to better teach us leg and hip placement. That's when I saw it - cellulite! On this wasp of a gorgeous trained dancer!! I was overjoyed and wanted to run shout it from the hills! Not because I was spitefully thrilled for this girl to have it, but because I wanted to say "See! All the magazines are airbrushed!! We have ridiculous expectations of ourselves!! Be free!"

I was immediately reminded of one of my next door neighbors in the dorm my sophomore year of college. She was one of the most beautiful people I'd ever seen in person. She was a pageant queen and professional model that is now married to a rather successful country singer and appears in his videos. I remember how her modeling contract stated that she had to exercise for at least an hour a day and she was constantly in our little gym. She was even proposed to by the leader of some nation while on a missions trip. Making her level of beauty seem even more unattainable - she actually slept in cute and frilly matching pajama sets and slips. In college! While the rest of us were in mis-matched t-shirts and clearance flannel bottoms! However, being her dorm neighbor allowed me to learn something about her - she too had cellulite! My realization of that changed my life. I try to remember this on my rough self-talk days when she's prancing around on CMT - Even she has cellulite!

My third and final example does not include back-leg fat, but is close enough to the analogy. I had the privelege of seeing and/or meeting a fascinating collection of people while living in DC. I was there the first day that Brad and Angelina went to the Hill together. That place was turned upside down and people were out of control! I knew that at one point she was meeting with my boss, and a co-worker kept trying to come up with reasons for us to purposefully and non-chalantly walk down the hall in hopes of catching a glimpse (like security didn't realize that). Finally, we did. I looked at her, but not for long - because, you know, I was doing something important in the hallway other than that. What I saw was a woman. Had I not been told by so many that she was there, I may not have even known it was her. Granted, she was very pretty - but in a simple professional dress with her hair pulled back the same as the rest of us. With regular highlights and the beginnings of roots - just like the rest of us. Her expression was one of concern yet fear - because there were all of these people in her face trying to tell her important things and expecting something of her. Basically, she was every other woman on the Hill, just with bodyguards. It was yet another moment where I wanted to run out and tell everyone "Angelina is just a normal woman!! She's not some magical force from space that we must constantly be compared to!"

I think all women and all men need to know this. Our expectations of ourselves are so unattainable!

I try to think of this from the perspective of my childhood illness and my mother's disabilities. At one point in my life - my body did not work as it should. Now, my mother's does not always. Our bodies are amazingly wonderful gifts! You could think of all of the miracles in our creation for days on end and not list them all. Yet, we focus on some dimples on our thighs most of all, and run around comparing them to the size and number of the dimples on all of the other women's legs, and let this obsess our brains.

I've rambled quite a bit now, and am unsure of the final point other than this: You are a gift, your body is a gift, speak blessings to yourself.

Priorities?...

I have spent a lot of time "back home" recently, which has led to a lot of check-in-on-how-you're-doin'-these-days kind of conversations. Here is how 99% of them went, regardless of who they were with...

Other person: So, you got a real job now?

Me: Yes...Dr....Professor....Lecture....Research...yadda, yadda, yadda

Other person: Well, it looks like you're keeping your weight down pretty good, so you must be proud of that.

Exactly what does one say to that? On one hand, it's like "Um, yes, thank you, I have to work my tail off for that." However, their motivation for saying this is not to compliment my efforts at wellness and chronic disease prevention. Really, they are trying to find a nice way to say "Dear Lord you're still single and spouting out big nonsense words but maybe there is hope left for you after all because you haven't completley let yourself go." I'm not sure that's a compliment. Hmm...

Yes, I'm from the country...

Here are some pictures of my Daddy plowing in our garden last weekend. The first is of tomato string and Gatorade - necessary staples for any farmer :-).

Something about being home

As I write this, I am falling asleep in the same room that was my mother's childhood room, my sister'snursery, my nursery, the room where my grandfather died, the room I slept in for all my summer vacations when I was a kid, and the room I would ultimately live in while getting my masters. It used to kind of freak me out that my grandfather died in this room, but now I see it as some type of blessing - he was a great man that I'm proud to be like, and he died peacefully in the house he built.

Clearly, my grandparents were genius, as both bedrooms in the house have giant double closets with a sort of safe room area in the middle. Who else was doing that in the 50's? I like to think they only built one bathroom because they didn't want to shame the neighbors - since not everyone had running water just yet. Or electricity for that matter. And, they were the first ones to get a tv - so they would go on to be pretentious in other ways.

I always thought of this house as small and regular, but as an adult wishing I owned a home of my own, I see how large and well-made it really is. Right now, after a long day of wishing this old house were more modern and friendly to the disabled, it's nice to be still and thankful for what this house really means. That I have a family and a heritage. Not all of us do, or at least not one that we get to know. And even if your family drives you a little nutty at times, it's good to have one.

If you like this post - I highly recommend Sandra McCracken's songs about growing up on a family farm in Indiana. Along the way, they partially inspired this.

Tag says "Made in Heaven"

Great pickup line that got me through an otherwise rough day:

Random guy in restaurant: Lime? In Sweet tea? That's weird.

Me: It's good.

Bartender: It must make you look good too.

Hahahahhahahahahha. Thank you, Mr. Bartender, thank you :-).

Free lovin'

If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were. Richard Bach

Until recently, I have never understood this quote – at least not the first part. I even found it kind of stupid and annoying. I mean, sure, Sting’s song about it is fine and all, but I just never got it. I think because I approached it from “Duh – wouldn’t you know they loved you before you would love them anyway? Why would you love anybody that would need to be let go?” And, I didn’t really get the whole humans as carrier pigeons analogy.

Now, I see that you have to let people go in order to protect both parties. To keep you from hitting them upside the head, and to keep them from acting out in rebellion. To keep you from being controlling and to let them learn a lesson or two on their own or prove they can do something without you.

Sometimes they come back, but not in the way you might have expected.

With adulthood and human kind, come complex relationships of all types. It also comes with the maturity and risk to care about people and admit it whether it’s a really clear cut thing that makes a lot of sense or not. Somehow, this has to be tempered with the discernment of guarding your heart. (FYI – I don’t really have that figured out yet).

Last week’s sermon was on how sometimes God uses the messy and counter-intuitive to heal. He spit on a blind guy in order to restore his sight. And when the first spit didn’t fully do the job, the guy admitted it and Jesus spit on him again. I have never been very comfortable with the messy and counter-intuitive. In my messy bedroom, yes – in life and relationship, no, not at all. Right now, I’m hopefully anticipating my healing. Let’s hope the first spit takes ;-).

Photo by Laura Kok, Smashing Mag, The Virtuous Girl blog (discovered via Google Image search)

Why Don't These Match!!

So, I think I have some sort of bizarre keypad dyslexia. My 3 conference calls/webinars this week have highlighted this problem. When entering numbers into a phone, I often type a 7 when I should have typed a 1 or something like that - but it's because the numbers aren't where I want them to be. I'm thinking, it would really help me out if the number placement on the following items would match:

I am also blaming keypad dyslexia for my inabilities at Dance Dance Revolution!

An everyday example of attempting to end a phone conversation with my mom…

(Following the daily lunch check-in conversation – which always includes a dog update and her most recently taken vital signs)
Me: Ok, well, I need to go.
Momma: Well, what are you doing today?
Me: I just got back from lunch and have a conference call soon
Momma: Oh, who’s it with?
Me: (quick explanation of call) Well, your home health nurse is there and I need to go to work.
Momma: Well what do you think about the shooting of the Holocaust Museum guard? You know we went there when you were in 10th grade. Do you remember? (Recap of all CNN and FOX News reports of the day)
Me: Yes, I am very upset about that….
Momma: (more details from FOX News)
Me: Momma, I am about to pee in my pants and I am a 30 year old adult at work, I need to go.
Momma: Yes, it would be bad to ask your boss if you could go home and change. By the way, (John Doe) had a miracle! Praise the Lord!
Me: I do not know John Doe.
Momma: You know, Such-and-such’s girlfriend’s son from Vernon.
Me: No, I do not know him.
Momma: Well, he was eat up with infection and had 72 hours to live. They took him to UAB hospital and he just didn’t have a chance but now he’s going to live and his doctor says it’s a miracle cause he had nothing to do with it.
Me: That is a miracle. I had no idea.
Momma: Well, I guess your Daddy didn’t tell you like I asked him to.
Me: Seriously, I really really have to pee.
Momma: Ok, well I guess I should let you go. Bye and I’ll talk to you again before 10.

Gotta love her.

Walk Away

How do you know when to let somebody go? This is a question that seems to be coming up so often these days as life and relationships change. I’ve been faced with it before, and it confounds me.

How do you know whether someone is hurting you, or just growing you, when growth itself hurts? These are often the same people that help us better understand the human condition, but how much is that worth? What about when other people don’t understand why you haven’t already let others go?

What is the proper balance of grace, mercy, self-respect, loyalty, and duty? I’ve always been the kind of person where once I’ve let you in – you’re in; whether you hear from me regularly or not. I just assume even now I’m going to be there however needed when your kids are born and that I’ll be helping cater your 25th wedding anniversary party. That’s not to pat myself on the back, but to explain how I view relationship. But, what if my view isn’t always the best for me or others? What about true relationship that is best left transient and remembered? This blows my mind.

Sometimes these people remove themselves from our lives, for worse or for better, and relieve us from making the decision.

All I do know is that you should ask whether they make you a better version of yourself, and whether the products of your relationship honor God and remain true to who He made you to be.

I guess this is just part of growing up.

Walk Away

Ben Harper

Oh no

Here comes that sun again
That means another day
Without you my friend
And it hurts me
To look into the mirror at myself
And it hurts even more
To have to be with somebody else
And its so hard to do
And so easy to say
But sometimes
Sometimes you just have to walk away
Walk away
With so many people
To love in my life
Why do I worry
About one
But you put the happy
In my ness
You put the good times
Into my fun
And its so hard to do
And so easy to say
But sometimes
Sometimes you just have to walk away
Walk away
And head for the door
Weve tried the goodbye
So many days
We walk in the same direction
So that we could never stray
They say if you love somebody
Than you have got to set them free
But I would rather be locked to you
Than live in this pain and misery
They say time will
Make all this go away
But its time that has taken my tomorrows
And turned them into yesterdays
And once again that rising sun
Is dropping on down
And once again you my friend
Are nowhere to be found
And its so hard to do
And so easy to say
But sometimes
Sometimes you just have to walk away
Walk away

And head for the door
You just walk away
Walk away

Summer Colds. Yuck

I find having a cold in the summer to be one of the most obnoxious things ever! There are few things more annoying that being sweaty and stuffed up at the same time! I always felt like I was the only one out there and that others never had this problem, until MSN told me I'm not alone. Here's to a cold-free summer!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31051312

We be jammin'

I love making jam! There’s just so many reasons why! I find it fun and strangely relaxing. It makes you feel like you are a part of something that has been going on for hundreds of years, which in this day and age is really comforting. There is beauty in standing at a stove and creating something for loved ones the exact same way that your great-grandmother did. And, I get so excited to give it away to people and know that I can give them a little treat that can be part of their day for as long as the jar lasts. It just makes me happy. I even love the jars and the colors. I think jam itself is pretty, especially when it’s from fresh and locally grown fruit. Ok, I'll stop waxing poetic on jam now.

One reason why I find it so fun is because it is a science experiment with really yummy results! Boiling and timing and setting and pouring into jars with a method. That’s the former lab rat in me. I can’t help it.

Here are this year’s first results using some Chilton County peaches:

Before

And After

The initial "Ahhh" of summer

It has officially become hot. So, I am trying to take time to appreciate those brief initial moments of summer that are nice and nostalgic, before it all becomes one miserable and suffocating mess.

Here’s a little secret: I love that initial blast of heat when you get into a hot car. Especially after leaving my cold office. It’s like you can feel yourself suddenly absorbing all of it; in a good kind of way, not in a disturbing leaving a kid locked up while you go in the grocery store kind of way. During lunch, I just sat in my car for a brief moment before cranking it up, and then made sure my sleeve was rolled up and my arm was in the window. Not for the purpose of tanning, as I embrace my paleness, but to have that experience of feeling your skin sop up Vitamin D and sunshine.

I know that very soon I will transition into the realities of summer, which usually includes: feeling like my hair and/or glasses are overtaking my face in the mugginess, opting against bracelets and earrings at the risk that even they may trap heat, and getting frustrated that I attempted to apply makeup since it’s all melted in 5 minutes anyway. But for now, I’m trying to focus on the good.

Picture from:http://www.dietsinreview.com/diet_column/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/vitamind.jpg