Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Turn and face the strain... (ch-ch-changes...)

Yeah, I know, REALLY original title huh? I actually think one of my other blogger friends used this title before me. There could be two. Then again, a million monkeys on a million typewriters for a million years could also produce my blog... if there's a really warped one in the bunch.

Click to enlarge

As you can see, it's now been 1 year, 4 weeks, 21 hours, 55 minutes and 35 seconds since I quit smoking... (more or less, who keeps track of these things, really? snicker) So, this post is four weeks late. And, truth be told, I've only been off the nicotine gum for a little over two months... (I have to say some self-deprecating stuff before I start bragging some more, right?)

Giving up cigarettes and nicotine altogether has been very liberating for me, boosting my self-confidence in all the right places. Do I miss smoking? Every dang day, if only for a minute or two... some days more than others. It gets easier every time I find something in the house that still bears that tale-tell smell: a smoker lived here. I don't find them as often now... but I do find them.

So, at one year in, I feel pretty confident that my habit is kicked. Recognizing that change helped me feel empowered to start so working on a another change, so about a month ago I added a new computer gizmo to answer to:

Click to enlarge
Pretty neat, huh?

My weight has been out of control for some time... and while I lost the cigarettes in the last year, I gained TWENTY-FIVE more pounds. (Ahem!) Before, I always told myself that Weight Watchers was too expensive. After looking at all the money I was saving by not buying cigarettes on the other gizmo, (over $200 a month) I figured I deserved to treat myself to the expense of this one. (Less than $45 per month, and that includes the cost of the meetings!)

First, there's my superficial reason: many of The Ladies are already doing weight loss/health conscious programs. Tina's lost around 70 pounds, Sabrina's lost over 50, Crystal (my WW compadre!) has lost over 25... I'd be danged if I wanted to be the last fat girl standing! (Not to mention, the pics from our Derby party of me were atrocious. When I look in the mirror, I don't see a fat girl, but by gum that camera sure as heck sees her!) Besides, Heather, Tina, Pennie and Michelle have all been known to run 5Ks! I am determined to waddle behind them for some of those races this year. Who knows, maybe next year I can run them, too.

For a long time I had been telling myself I should be able to manage my weight on my own, that I should be able to just do it by myself and I didn't need guidance. It's kind of hard (not to mention hypocritical) to hold onto that belief after working as drug counselor for however-many months. If everyone should be out whipping their demons on their own, what am I getting paid for?

And besides how could I, in good conscience, sit in front of my clients extolling the power of changing thought processes; telling them that if they don't like something in their lives, they have the power to change it, with me sitting there over 100 pounds overweight? (Yes, you read that right, one hundred. I've been fortunate that until this last 25-30, I've always carried it well)

Another reason I chose Weight Watchers is their gradual process of weight loss. I am expecting the actual weight loss to take 1 1/2 to 2 years. As I tell my clients, lifestyle changes don't happen overnight. There's a slow process including education and retraining the brain involved. I don't want this to be a diet, I want to change the way I view food and the way I take care of myself. Not to mention the ways my daughters view food and take care of themselves. One of the MANY things I want to leave as a legacy to my girls is a healthy lifestyle. Hopefully we're on our way.

How does this fit in with the "New Life" tag?

When Deat died, when I started this blog, I still felt so vulnerable, perhaps even weak. I felt cheated, and scared  of all the changes that came with losing the person I loved most in the world, the person I looked to before I made any major decision. I've often said change is my confirmation of God's sense of humor: He designed us to hate change and then gave us change as the primary constant in our lives.

However, change has been a tool I used to regain my power, my footing in the last 2 1/2 years. A couple of weeks ago, I received my Masters' diploma. I completely changed careers; changed cars; changed health habits; changed the way I view L-town and possibilities that exist here. With each change, I grew a little stronger.

Perhaps that's the difference between the changes we choose and those that "just happen" in our lives. The changes I didn't choose seemed to sap my strength, then the ones I made returned it.

"Look what I did!"

Still, before I go crazy thumping myself on the back, I have to look at each change and mention that I see God's hand in the opportunities presented me, the situations coming together "just so" to facilitate the moves I made... one right after the other, one answered prayer after another. I felt empowered taking the wheel, but obviously, I didn't do ALL of the steering.

So, finally, I thank God for all of it, especially providing a workplace where I can share this part, His part, of the change process, too.

Musical Memory Lane - Please Don't Go...

Or, Why I Prefer Music WITHOUT the Videos...


Warning for phone users: The following post has videos and will be really hard to follow

General Warning: It may be really hard to follow anyway...

I used to love this song, both the 1992 KWS version and the KC and the Sunshine band version from 1979. Today I made the mistake of looking both versions up on YouTube.

Hearing the KWS version reminds me of the last of my college years living in the dorm, and unbeknownst to me at the time, the last carefree years before life really got started. My friend Shelly put it on a mix tape for me, and I listened to that tape over and over; I just never watched the video.

I loved the way the sadness of the lyrics was juxtaposed against the upbeat tempo that made you want to get up and dance... kinda like young love: big ups and downs all mixed up and jumbled together.

So, today, feeling sentimental, I looked it up and found this:

Hint: Only watch to the 30 second mark, then hit pause, read the next bit, then continue.

Kinda cool for the first 30 seconds, right?

The crazy white face-bright eye shadow-weird headpiece-thing, (typical of music videos from that era)...The smooth, early nineties-esquese dance images, lithe dancers jumping, moving together and apart. The singer gesturing with the lyrics...  I was diggin' it.. it fit right into my memories.

 (Hit Play and read on) Then dude started really dancing.

Bless. His. Heart.

And WHOA! What is that at 1:06? Yeah, I know I saw the face back at :04 but I'm not sure I want (her/him/it?)  walking AT me. Don't throw flowers at me! I mean, you're pretty and all, but you took  androgyny all-the-way-out-to-scary, dude! (uh, ma'am?) I guess it doesn't really matter, but it's bugging me that I'm not completely sure.

To be fair, considering the happy memories this song conjures up, I can appreciate the lead singer's joy at singing it. I can celebrate the love of the song with him, as long as he's not looking into the camera and smiling that cutesy "we-know-the-real-secret-don't-we" smile at me. Ugh.

So, this version of the song wasn't completely ruined, just a teensy bit tarnished. Maybe, (highly likely) I just got old and really conservative in my tastes.



I decided to move on and watch the KC and the Sunshine Band version.

When I was in college listening to the KWS version, I didn't recognize it as a cover of KC and the Sunshine Band. I actually had forgotten about the KC version until several years later when I heard it on an oldies station. It immediately transported me back to my pre-teen years hanging out at Helen and Donna's house.

Donna and Helen had older sisters (lots of them, we're all Catholic). I thought their older sisters were so cool; I barely remember talking to them, I just remember being in awe. Anytime their sisters were home,  music was coming from one or another of the upstairs bedrooms. Liking those songs made me cool by association.

Hint: Play until about :22, then hit pause, if you know the song, right before he starts singing.

First thoughts: not as handsome I remember him, must be the lighting. Oooh, there ya go,  full shot of him, late seventies stylish! The way he's looking off into the distance, he's SO dreamy! 

(Hit play, play until :30) What's with the stare? Is he on drugs?
(To :40) AAAAUGH!!!! Suddenly,  my elementary school crush morphed into CRAZY STALKER GUY! Walk out that door? Son, I am running out that door! 

(:50-:59) Quit looking at me that way! Don't beg... it's unbecoming... 

(To 1:20) Blessed huh? Why does that, now, seem like a cheap suck-up so I won't leave?
(1:25-1:30) Okay, dude, that look was just maniacal.
(To 1:38) Crossing your eyes like that just doesn't help your cause.

(To 1:51) Okay, now I'm just disgusted. Tambourine Man, wearing suspenders and plaid don't make you country. Could you guys PLEASE button your shirts?

(To 2:00) He's either hoping this will make me FEEL THE MUSIC as much as he does... or, as I first surmised, he really is higher than a kite. (Play on) 

Note to self:
You see the  looks he's giving you... Sure, he's down on his knees now, (2:34) but if you actually walk out, he WILL hunt you down and kill you...  at 3:04 he starts demonstrating the horse whipping he's going to give you as soon as he knocks you down.

Finally, at 3:30, I guess he gave up. He keeps looking over his shoulders though, checking. 

"Are you still looking? This is what my little tight-leather-pants behind looks like walking away. I see you looking... Bet you wish you hadn't come up with the leaving idea now, huh? Ha! I walked away FIRST!!!!"

I was worried I'd have nightmares about scary Harry Wayne Casey stalking me. Then I found this:

KC, I may be a big 'ol girl, but I think I could outrun ya now...

Whew!

Hanging on to the Gusto and Conversating* with the Boo Bear

The Gusto Theatre closed, but the legacy in my life lives on.

Last weekend P.D. and I went to see "Hunger Games." Don't brow-beat me for letting P.D. see such a violent movie... we both had already read the books (have you?) and discussed them. If she had asked to go with someone else, my answer would have been "no" but she was with me, and since we already knew every scene, none of it was really shocking.

Anyway, at the theater, two of my "Gusto Theatre Babies" came up and hugged me. Later in the week, I got a call from one of my teenage "Babies", upset over a break-up. He came over for dinner for a distraction the next night... B.B. kept him so busy playing "Go Fish" and swinging on the swing set, I daresay it worked. Another one IMed me in Facebook last night for some quick advice. Kids are so great. All I ever did was let them know I cared... and it makes my day each and every time one of them calls me on it.

Last night the "Ladies of Gusto" had potluck at our "monthly" get-together. Back in June or July last year at one of the shows, I suggested a "Margarita Night" at my house for the moms of the theatre kids. I was surprised at how many were interested! We had six women, we had a private Facebook page for messages to one another... we had tequila, we had a blender, we had Sabrina at the helm, we were in business!

We had so much fun, we decided to do it again... and again... and we realized we weren't really drinking much margarita. Finally, one night Janet said, "Hey, do we have to make the margaritas or can we just admit that we really like each other?" (Poor Janet is stuck babysitting the tequila at her house; we still haven't gotten all the way through it.) We figured out, the margaritas just drew the line and said "No kids allowed." But now that we're tequila-free, we're even having the kids come, too.

I didn't realize how much I needed girlfriends and girl-time. I don't think any of us did. We share our ups, our downs... we tell stories about our families, the people we grew up with. We TRY to stop short of the following, but last night we had to sing a rousing chorus...

We don't MEAN to...

Pennie took P.D. home with her to spend the night with her daughter... then asked to keep her one MORE night. B.B. says she's missing Sissy, but she likes the "Just Momma and Me" time. She decided she wanted supper from a local fast food place.

B.B. Momma are you ready?

Me: I just gotta find my keys.

B.B.: Now you know you're supposed to put them on the hook as soon as you come in! (Stopped just short of rolling her eyes.)

Me: Kinda like, um, your shoes and your closet?

B.B.: Um... yes? (Big-eyed smile.)

Later, in the car...

B.B.: Momma, is it late Spring?

Me: No, I think it's more like early- or mid- Spring.

B.B.: You don't get to have Summer until after Spring, right?

Me: Right.

B.B.: That's what Papaw said. but I don't know if Papaw knows about these things...

Me: Why wouldn't Papaw know?

B.B.: Well, he's Papaw, and I have to...

Me: B.B., are you just talking to hear yourself talk?

B.B.: (Looking shocked) How did you know? (Long pause) I know f-o-r spells for, and I can use it in a sentence...

Life is good.


* Conversating is a reference from Capricorn Cringe. You can search it on her blog.

Sister Love, or, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home from the E.R.

Today I got a phone call at work --  P.D.(age 10) in hysterics. "Maaaaa-maaaa" was just about the only word I understood. I managed to decipher that B.B. (her 6 year old sister) had been hurt.

Somehow, as my breathing began to go shallow and my blood pressure began rising, I was able to maintain the presence of mind to discern that B.B., the injured one, was NOT crying. I tried to calm P.D. and asked her to put Ms. Marjorie on the phone. Apparently B.B. and P.D. were in a tussle when B.B. let go, fell backward and hit her head on a piece of furniture.

From my own days as an E.R. frequent flier, I remembered that even with a minor injury, scalps bleed a lot. I asked Ms. Marjorie to check and see if it was a gaping wound, and she reported that it was not, so I didn't worry. It was close to the end of the day and I'd be leaving soon anyway.

Came home, checked it out, it didn't look bad so I started the night routine. After B.B.'s bath, I checked it again and noticed that it wasn't a scrape, as Ms. Marjorie and I had first surmised, but actually a cut with just enough of a gap to require a trip to the hospital. Sigh. Of course B.B. was scared and protested, but I assured her that while it would hurt some, it wouldn't hurt for very long. That seemed to reassure her.

When we arrived in triage, the nurse informed me that she'd need a couple staples, but that with the newer numbing gels and techniques, it wouldn't even hurt. What a relief! P.D. and I sat in our waiting cubicle in the E.R., laughing and playing math games with B.B. to distract her.

Unfortunately, the nice nurse was WRONG. It did hurt. If you've been following this very long, you know P.D. (the one in tears) is the sensitive one; B.B. is Momma's Precious Little Monster.**  B.B. does not go down without a fight. It took five of us to hold her down for the second of the 2 staples. P.D. had to leave the room, she couldn't watch.

Soapbox moment: I learned this from my dear Daddy: 


Don't EVER tell a child something won't hurt if it will.

Lying about it just teaches the child that you can't be trusted. B.B.'s hurt feelings about being lied to, then held down, lasted way longer than the pain of the actual staples. She cried, and cried, and cried... and cried some more. 

Finally, as we were leaving I offered her a bribe distraction to help her calm down. 

Conversation on the way home:

B.B.: (sniffling) You're still the best Momma in the world.

Me: Really? Why?

B.B.: Because you said I could have ice cream if I calmed down. I sound really calm, don't I, Momma?

Me. Yes, you do.

B.B.: Sissy's really calm. I think she should have something special, too.

How could I refuse? :)

** B.B., if you are reading well enough that you can read this post, all I have to say about the comment with the asterisk is, "Well, you WERE!"

Jerks Need Not Apply

Remember way back when I said I was ready to date again? Well, uh, hmm... they still aren't knocking down my door. As much as it pains me to admit it,* I'm not quite as cute at 41 as I was at 27.

Not that I mind. I have a meaningful job, great friends, and two beautiful little girls that fill my world with love and laughter. When God decides the time it right, it will happen. For now I'm content with my life as-is.

Besides, the more stories I hear from single/divorced friends, not to mention clients, the happier I am that the stress of "a relationship" isn't part of my realm. I'm not hearing about a wealth of good men out there. Even the M.C. has mentioned that it seems that a disproportionate number of our clients (particularly the women) seem to be "stuck" in relationships where they aren't supported, valued or appreciated. I remember falling prey to dating partners like that a time or two myself back in the day.

I've pondered how (besides just being blessed) I was fortunate enough to have been married to a man like Deat. I've jokingly said that two months after his death I elevated him to sainthood and I conveniently forgot every single flaw he had... but compared to the men I've been hearing about, he really was a saint! How did I get so lucky and others didn't? I've further wondered: when the time comes, how will I teach P.D. and B.B. to guard their precious hearts from the "playas" of the world?

Today, a friend of mine posted a link to this article and I think it offers part of the answer. The following is from Darlene Brock at the Grit and Grace Project. You'll find a link to the blog section of her site over in the "I Read These" list on the right.

If He Acts like a Jerk… he probably is

We live in a world where there must be a Masters Degree in Excuses for Bad Behavior.  That reality is evidenced in the relationship single females have with their male counterparts.  It seems the female is constantly seeking the reason her male counterpart acted the way he did when the answer is often so simple.

He says he didn’t call because his phone battery died.  When really he went out with his buddies and you were the last thing on his mind.  He’s so sorry he was an hour late the traffic was really bad.  Instead of I just didn’t think you would be upset that I had to master one more level on my video game before I could find my keys to get in the car.

Then the classic I am afraid of commitment because I was hurt so badly by someone else.  Instead of I have every intention of seeing everything I can get from you while making a minimal amount of effort.

Ladies, what is wrong with this picture???????  We must not assume that all men make excuses, some are caught in traffic, have let their cell phone battery die or have been hurt, these are life realities.  But let’s not assume they are telling the truth either.  Especially when you are hoping to build a long lasting relationship with a repeat offender.  They must earn your respect and trust the same way you must earn theirs.

Simple common courtesy - call when you say you will, arrive on time - just basics should be expected.  The exception to that behavior needs to be occasional not recurrent.  It doesn’t matter how cute he is or how many flowers he brings to prove he’s sorry if all he can offer is an excuse in answer to the “what happened?” question.   This indicates a personality that will display unacceptable behavior in every area of life.

Simple moral to the story ladies, if he acts like a jerk……he probably is.  Don’t accept his excuses and expect more from him than his lack of even a little common courtesy.  If all ladies would hold men to this standard they would step up.  They would work for that relationship because they had to.  They need to work for it.  They would be better men worthy of women that expect better men.  Worthy of women who themselves seek to be better women.  And you wouldn’t be left waiting by the phone hoping for a call.

Simple and succinct, but it speaks volumes. In six short paragraphs, she conveyed a message that so many young girls forget or never learned... heck, a lesson that so many grown women need to understand. I'll be making copies of it for some of my clients.

Reading this reminded me of the attitude I maintained during my dating days. I gave this "speech" to more than one guy, and when I think back to the heartaches and heartbreaks... they came when I allowed myself to settle for less.

So you say you want to date me, huh? Well let's get something clear. While I love a friendly competition, in a relationship I don't compete: not with other women, not with alcoholism, not with drugs, not with sports or your buddies. I understand you'll want to spend time with your friends, I can take time with my friends, too. But I won't tolerate being treated inconsiderately, period.  

I'm not unreasonable, I just ask that you do what you say you will do. If you said you'd call, call. Don't be late or break a date without a good reason. I understand that circumstances come up, and sometimes it can't be helped. If we had plans but you can't be where you said you'd be, make a phone call so I'm not sitting around worrying and wondering where you are. I'll treat you with respect and expect the same. I will not tolerate less.

I don't compete because I don't have to. If I can't win, I won't play. It's that simple. If I have to win your time, your attention, your consideration, quite frankly, I'm not interested... because that tells me you aren't, either.

 As Darlene Brock points out, simple common courtesy is not too much to expect, but when we accept less; less is what we get.

Is it possible that speech might send a guy I was interested in packing? Well, yeah, it was designed to! I figured if he was interested enough to stick around after that speech, he might be worth my time. It's funny to me now. but simple courtesy was one of the things that helped put Deat on his pedestal.

When the time comes, I think I'll be grilling P.D. and B.B with this speech until they can quote it verbatim. I realize they will probably date different boys with a host of other issues, but hopefully this will weed out a few of them.

Meanwhile, just in case some suitor comes to call, I think I'll brush up on it, too.

*Sarcasm alert

Post Number Ninety-nine

Hello? Anybody here? Oh, let me dust the cobwebs off that chair,  this place sat empty for a while... have you noticed that usually happens when I plan to write more?

What happened? Well, it was time to do the annual tree trimming post... but nothing funny happened. We just put it up... I couldn't even come up with a mildly amusing spin for it.

Then, I just didn't know what to write about. The most interesting moments usually happened with clients, and I can't write about them for confidentiality reasons. I can't be too careful...not to mention school and my job and blah, blah blah.

But tonight I have something to write about. Tonight I finished a take home-test that was my last assignment for the last class I needed for my master's degree. I've worked on the test all day, but couldn't seem to get that last two-page essay question done. I got on Facebook complaining.

And here came a flood of support, friends from all different parts of my life cheering me on. I got the essay finished and posted that I was done, and here came even more support. Fifty-something "Likes" and congratulatory comments total between the two posts... I am so grateful for every single one of those. I can't say how much it meant, especially in light of..

The REST of the story...

No one knew it, but today marked 4 years since Deat's death. I am so much better than at times I ever imagined I'd be, but having that in the back of my mind was still hard. Having all those people offering me well wishes, it really highlighted so much for me, how far I've come, how blessed I've been. How absolutely blessed I AM.

In some weird way, through the cheers of my friends, I could hear Deat cheering, too, "You did it, Buddy, you did it."

Gotta Love Google...

I love statistics. Even when I have hardly any readers, I love to check my blog stats and wonder about who my readers were... especially since I had several hits on a two year-old post recently.

I began to wonder what in the world brought so many people to this particular post, so I checked to find the keyword searches these visitors used. I admit, I had to laugh when I saw the search phrases that brought them to me:

The phrases that brought most of these recent visitors to the blog were:

- 7 1/2 emerald peek tree martha stewart 

- emerald peak tree martha stewart fuse 

- martha stewart 7 1 2 emerald peak tree instructions 

- k-mart emerald peak tree 

- martha stewart christmas tree emerald peak assembly instructions 

- martha stewart emerald peak 7 1/2 ft christmas tree 

- martha stewart emerald peak christmas tree 

- martha stewart emerald peak tree

Apparently, my newest readers don't have any better luck than I do....


I just checked, that particular post is one of the top Google results you get using the above keywords. So, actually, their luck is worse, because when they went to find a solution to their decorating dilemma, they got... well... me.

Needless to say, Delmer's favorite annual post is coming soon....


;-)


(P.S. If you didn't click on the "better luck" link above you can go to December 2009 in the Archive and read the post titled "Humbug" to see why Google associates me with Martha Stewart trees)

MC Antics, Part 2

I left my treatment planner book (the one I needed to do homework) at work. This morning I had to go meet up with the MC at his regular pre-work stop so I could pick up the book, hurry home, and get busy.  (Where does he go every morning? I could tell ya, but I'd have to kill ya).

I asked a lady at said location if she'd seen him. She gave me a puzzled look.

Me: Oh, I'm his intern.

Nice Lady: Oh, you're Kelly, is that right?

Me: Yes, but I'm not as bad as he says, I promise.

Nice Lady: Oh no, I've heard him talk about you. He says you're awesome.

Wow. I've worked really hard in this internship, but to find out he bragged about me? I had to turn my head to keep her from seeing a little tear in the corner of my eye.

I think you're awesome, too, MC.


It's just that my friends know better than to let you in on it!

Quick Post for the Fans of the MC

The semester is almost over... I may see daylight again... I just had to share this with you guys.

On Tuesdays I ride with the MC to one of our work sites in another county. We were consulting about one of his "older clients" on the way.

The MC: Man, I hope when I get old I'm not that crabby.




I almost spit coffee all over the windshield.

Editing

Today, I went back and changed something in my blog.

I wrote this earlier post carefully. I never really thought of my blog as something "widely" read... especially not locally. However, to the persons involved in the story, two identities were obvious. At the time, I really thought I had offered the benefit of the doubt to those people. Honestly, I didn't think they would ever read it, or care what my thoughts were.

Not only did they read it, as I learned today, they were LED to it by others. I also learned that they were very hurt by it.

When I wrote the post, I was careful not to accuse any particular person of any wrong doing. I questioned their thinking, but I should have done that in a private conversation with them: not in conversations with others and not on my blog. The worst part is, while I have questioned their motives, I've honestly always given those motives the benefit of the doubt in my heart. Unfortunately, upon re-reading the entry, I can see why it didn't seem that way.

Today, I ran into one of those people. I noticed a "cool" attitude. I reached out again. This person let me know that my words had hurt. I must say, I admire this person for addressing the issue with me rather than letting it sit. I should have offered this person the same, a long time ago.

Did I really feel the things I wrote at the time? Yes, I did, but, I should have been more careful to point out that the hurtful acts I mentioned in the post had not been committed by the two who could be identified. I have redacted those portions of that entry, but the damage is done. Those people are hurt, and I had never spoken to them about my feelings in the first place. I should have had a conversation with them; I should have heard them out.

So, to any readers who recognize the players in this entry, or even those who don't: it's how I felt at the time,  but I wasn't careful with my words and people who have never done anything to me were hurt. It wasn't fair. It was wrong.

I can't "fix" that, though I wish I could. All I can do, as I promised the person I spoke with today, is remove those parts of the post, and offer a truly heartfelt apology.

I am so very sorry.