It's Like Crack for Bloggers!!

That is how I describe The Secret Is In The Sauce (SITS).



It is legal crack for bloggers... except you don't have to put up with the government getting all up in your biznass and ruining your high!

I'm so excited because today is my SITS Day! Most of my readers know what SITS is but, just for the record, I'll give you the definition from Amber's Dictionary of Delinquency (that would be ADD, for short, ahem):

SITS [noun]: 1. A community of female bloggers who provide support/inspiration/sympathy/humor to fellow bloggers through the magic of comments.
2. An addictive blogging community that allows bloggers like moi to feel so special they will freely admit to having crack-like withdrawals when unable to get to the site.

:::::twitches:::::

Welcome to my blog! I like to think of this place as a resting spot for my soul. I hope my blog lives up to its' motto and helps you find the Zen in YOUR Every Day Crazy.

I like to focus on a few things here in my corner of the blogosphere. I mainly blog about weight loss and yoga, belly dancing, infertility, and ... cupcakes. I love me some cupcakes. For a while, I had Sexy Cupcake Saturdays and that was *so* much fun. Until I decided to lose some weight. Now that I'm down almost 20 pounds, I might just bring them back for uh... purely cathartic purposes.

I try to be as brave and cool as I can on this blog and I pride myself on finding humor and peace in things that I can't control. I once did a vlog even though I was totally nervous :::::steps on her proverbial podium for applause:::::

What can I say? Adventure is my middle name... that's also how I know my parents hate me.

I hope you all enjoy my little corner of the blogiverse. Please feel free to pull up a yoga mat or a plush pillow, sit on the floor and stick around! I'll make tea.

Did I mention I got laid off last week after a ten year employment for the same company?

No?!

Then screw it, let's just have a Margarita!

Cupcakes... HELL YEEEEEAAAAAAH!

My mother and I have been discussing what will happen when she wins the lottery.

Not IF she wins the lottery, mind you... WHEN she wins the lottery.

I know she will win the lottery because she is the only woman who lives in North Carolina and still plays the Florida Lottery (we lived in Florida for :::::thinks::::: EVER).

We've decided we will open a cupcake "bar" in the middle of some unknown, yet perfect, area of Charlotte that is yet to be discovered.

We'll offer all sorts of cupcakes: vegan, carrot, low fat, die of Type 2 Diabetes inducing cupcakes, cupcakes that are really muffins but are called cupcakes because we want them to have a prettier name and it's our shop so you can suck it cupcakes.

Yeah, all of those.

I'm contemplating the conceptual design for our work uniforms...

So far I'm liking this idea:



I will, of course, change it up a bit. I think maybe we'll do vanilla with pink frosting. I'll also make the cupcake look less... hairy.
And maybe I'll install wheels on the bottom so we can roll up to people and take their order. I can hear the terrified, screaming babies now.

Awesome.

Some Day I'll Pay the Bills With This Guitar

There are songs that, when I hear them on the radio (or walking through the grocery store, when no one else seems to hear them in the background), take my heart from my chest and dissect it, piece by piece until I can see the pieces in front of me like they've just been dumped from a shredder. Sometimes it physically hurts me and I can feel the tears form a huge puddle under my eyes, and the puddle wants to become an ocean, and my whole body shudders and convulses while I'm driving, and I hide my face with my hair and hope with all my being that my husband doesn't hear me because I know he'll never understand.

Hey There Delilah is one of those songs. Most people have heard this song, but if you haven't and you'd like to, here it is. This post might not make as much sense as it should, if you don't listen to it and you have never heard it.


In the midst of an awful argument that escalated way further than it should have, I sat behind the wheel of my car and attempted to grasp at the normalcy of a trip to the grocery store. This song came on the radio and I felt the separation spread between us. We were sitting right next to each other in the same car that we always took, and yet we were so far away... I felt like I couldn't have reached him with all the planes and the ships this world had to offer.

I remember thinking when this song first came out and when I realized how much my husband loved it, that I hoped with everything I had that it reminded him of us. Even if the words had nothing to do with our circumstances, the feeling behind the song has always reminded me of him. But then, every song reminds me of him. It's the music behind the words that bring him to me. I know that no matter what happens to us he will always be there; he's behind every note, every chord, every strum of every guitar and every melody that's ever made me feel anything beyond the pale. He's my music, and that's how I know that the love I have for him is more than what people see on the surface. Anyone that knows me knows that I live my life through music, it's my saving grace... it keeps me breathing. That's why, no matter how bad financial situations have gotten, I have always kept that ONE guitar, so I can keep my sanity. I sold almost all of them but I'll never sell them all. My husband is in my music; floating behind the vibrations created by strings and perfectly constructed wood.

As we drove in a thick silence that coated us like some disgusting exhaust slime, I listened to this song and wondered if Delilah and the person who wrote this song ever scream at each other. Do they call each other names and say hurtful things to one another? Does he throw spatulas at the door as she's closing it on his yelling? Does Delilah ever call this guy a lying sack of shit or go running through her neighborhood so fast and so hard that she almost throws up? Does she run so fast and far because she thinks that maybe, by some magical force that's beyond her she can shed their problems through her sweating pores? Does she lay next to him in bed and quietly resent his ability to sleep peacefully even though things seem like they're teetering on the edge of destruction?

Is it really LOVE if it doesn't occasionally rip your heart right out of your chest and make you absolutely fucking insane?

The verse that really hurts is: "A thousand miles seems pretty far but they've got planes and trains and cars, I'd walk to you if I had no other way."

I would walk to him if I had no other way... but he was sitting right next to me, and how do you explain a distance that big, when someone is so close?

Well That's Different

You may have noticed that I changed my background.

I have had the same background for over a year now and I really felt it was time for a change. That being said, I sort of miss the old one. It had my *favorite* symbol - the Fleur de Lis - and it matched my header perfectly.

I'm in the process of having someone do a custom design for me, but it's going to be a few months until that's completed and, for reasons I don't quite understand, I have been craving a white background on which to type; and when I say *craving,* that's exactly what I mean. I have been contemplating this change like a pregnant woman would contemplate a gigantic cupcake. Do you take the cupcake when there's a perfectly good vegetable platter in the fridge? Or do you scarf that sucker down and wait until later to think of the excess cellulite you just gained? My old blog background served me very well, for over a year. I just needed a change, that's all.

I'm still not sure how I feel about this one. I'll probably keep looking.

What do you think? Any suggestions?

Funky Funk McFunkerson, Put On Your FunkShoooooes

The title? Don't ask. I started typing it out and it just sort of flooooowed idiotically from my finger tips.

I also did a funky dance while I was typing. How fun.

I'm having some issues getting out of this funk I'm in. I think it's hormonal because one minute I am feeling awful about myself and the next I'm busting out disco moves while doing the dishes.


On a positive note, I have lost about 3 pounds in 3 days using the 30 Day Shred. I'm ALMOST into the 150's. This morning, I weighed in at 161.2. I weigh myself every day, which I have heard is not the most mentally healthy thing. However, if I *don't* do it, I get a false sense of security and I engorge myself on fast food. When I weigh myself every day, I am able to see the IMMEDIATE repercussions of bad weight loss decisions.

I will be so happy when I hit 159. I'll shout from the friggin' roof tops when I hit 157. The cool thing about 157 is that, even if I have some water weight, I won't get pushed over into the 160's again. And don't even get me started on hitting 154.4. That will be my 20 pound weight loss milestone. I think I might cry :P.

I promised you all some pictures of my hawt ass and I figured that NOW is the time to post them... BEFORE I lose my courage.

I took these pictures the day before I started the 30 Day Shred, and I'm hoping that there will be a noticeable difference by the time I finish the program.

I do realize that I am not, in fact, obese. I'm slightly overweight and that's not so awful... but there is something incredibly unsettling about looking at pictures of yourself from *all* angles and seeing just how pudgy you have become.

Three years ago, I was a size 7 *on a BAD day* and now I'm a size 12 (10 on a good, non bloated day hehe). That's not fun.

Soooooo, I will stop delaying the inevitable and show you all 360 degrees of my pudge.

Front:

Side:

Back (and yes, my shorts say "100% Wench" Wanna fight about it?):

I think my pudge is the worst in my back. I miss my old, toned back. Hopefully I can get it back soon... pardon the pun har har :::::rolls eyes:::::

I will post updated pictures either
a) after every 10 days, when I progress to the next level of Shred
or
b) after 30 days, when I finish the 30 Day Shred

I'll have to think about that one.

For now, I suppose it's back to the grind. I need to get myself out of this negative thought process I've had for the last day or so. It is seriously mucking up my mojo. :(

Nothing Else Matters

Three years ago today, I made the best decision of my life and married the missing part of my soul... and nothing else has mattered since :).


So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters

Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters

Rollin' With Mah Hoooomies!

Well peeps, today is a very special day indeed!

I am the featured blogger over at The Blog Rollers and I couldn't be more excited!

If you've never been there, you should definitely check them out. The Blog Rollers started out as a road trip between Lorraine and Christie (two inseparable buddies) and has since branched out into a wonderful community of supportive female bloggers who totally rock!

For all of the lovely ladies coming to visit me from The Blog Rollers: welcome welcome! Please, sit down on my proverbial pink yoga mat and have some Chai Tea. What's that? You don't like Chai? I also have Green Tea... or I could whip you up one of my famous White Russians, and if you don't like that... well... you can just drink this bottle of vodka while you have a look around.

Thanks for coming to see me, I love being followed because it gives my internet ego a nice boost so please feel free to stick around, follow me, and stay for as long as you like! Just make sure you refill my vodka supply before you go, mmmmkay?

Moments of Zen: Taking a Step Back

These days, it seems like we all want to move forward. People are striving to push past their current situations and leave behind the issues that they face on a daily basis.

Credit card debt, mortgages, lay-offs, a not-so-lovely economy; the list goes on and on... and what's funny (and sort of sad) is that every single issue most people face, every issue they really want to clear up or tackle head on, is an issue that deals with the physicality of every day life.

I am no exception to the rule.

What I do understand, and what I think about as often as possible, is that these monetary issues are not what I should be focusing all of my energy on.

I like to take a few minutes each day to go over the things that are most important to me. My list is something like this:

1. Love (this includes my husband, my family, my pets, etc.)
2. Happiness (am I happy with myself and with others?)
3. Health (am I doing everything I can to ensure I'm healthy in body AND mind?)
4. Beauty (what have I done today to make myself feel more beautiful on the outside AND the inside?)
5. Peace of Mind (am I feeling negative about anything? Do I feel like I'm in a "bad place" and, if I do feel that way, what can I do to get myself out of that funk?)

I'm sure there are more on my list, but that will give you a general example.

Money isn't ANYWHERE in my top priorities, because the things that are most important to me can not be bought. This is the mindset that I try to keep every day.

While keeping a positive outlook and remembering the truly important and wonderful things in my life, I always try to push myself forward.

When I'm doing yoga, I stretch just *a little* further than my comfort zone. I find that, by doing this, I eventually become even more flexible and I don't have to put a large amount of stress on my body to do so.

I love to push myself just a bit past my limits.

This week, I have decided to take a very small vow of silence. This is something that will really push me a bit past my comfort zone.

I'm always talking, always saying the *first* thing that comes to my mind. I love to be real with people and I never hide when I feel something is wrong... I'll speak up. I love to compliment others, even if I don't know them.

But, I've noticed that *listening* instead of speaking really gives me a sense of enlightenment.

I'm part of an internet message board full of ladies that I absolutely love. It's a pretty nice community and I've found lots of friends through it. I'm going to not post ANYTHING for today (and possibly for the next few days... again, push past that comfort zone a little). For the next 24 hours until I feel as though I've learned a lesson in quieting the mind I will only "listen" and read their posts. It may seem trivial, but it's actually a pretty big deal for me. I love *talking* with my online friends... I'm sure listening will be just as fun though.

At home, I will think before I speak EACH AND EVERY TIME I want to talk. When my husband says something that makes me happy, I will *feel* the happiness before I react with words... if he says something that makes me feel negative in any way, I will evaluate those feelings prior to saying anything.

With all that said, I'd love to hear how you (my awesome readers :) ) achieve your Moments of Zen. Have you thought about what makes you happy? I'd love to see YOUR lists!

Why I'm Totally Rad: An Online Report By Yours Truly

Every week on The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans we are given homework a project by the Gods and Goddesses of weight loss themselves :).

Last week was our inspiration/motivation board. Remember that post? It's the one where I bawl like a psycho and hate on myself?

No?

Click HERE to read it.

The project for this week is to list 5 reasons why we rock.

I think it's pretty obvious, with my mad shredding guitar capabilities, that I totally rock.

See?


What are you laughing at?! I know I was 19 and a total Goth, but I was so freaking cool back then. And look how cool and angry I was, rocking the Rogue X-Men Hair Streaks! Man, I freaking ruled.

Because I don't want to seem like I'm stating the obvious (that I rock, duh), I'm going to list five reasons why I'm RAD. I think one of those five reasons should be that I'm humble, but I don't want to waste one of my five on something so obvious.

You know I'm kidding, right? I hope so.

I thought long and hard about these, so it is with sincere hope that you all find me as rad as I do. Otherwise I'm just going to look like a complete jack ass.

Wait...

I think I've already accomplished that with this post.

Enough rambling!!

REASONS WHY I'M RAD:

1) It only took me two weeks to single handedly convince my brain that it craved green tea (which I TOTALLY hated) as opposed to Dr. Pepper (which I TOTALLY loved). I can now truly state that I actually *love* green tea. Seriously, check my purse, there are Green Tea Mints from Trader Joes in there.

2) I have belly danced professionally (wait, it gets better)...

with snakes...

near fire.

RAD

3) Ask me ANYTHING about orcas, dolphins, belly dance, guitars, serial killers, and French Sangreal conspiracies and I can almost guarantee that I'll be able to bore you to tears with extensive dictionary-like knowledge.

4) I finally feel alright about the hot chick staring at me on my motivational board because I realize that it's not who I used to be... it is who I am. The girl on that board is me... just a few years ago. I only need to tap into what I already know can be accomplished (a little weight loss and healthy lifestyle choices) and I can have her back physically AND mentally. I can't wait to see her/me again!

5) I'm smart.

It's true that I have a very bubbly personality and I think I come off as a ditz, A LOT. My areas of knowledge might not be considered important to most people. I have absolutely no concept of geography. I couldn't even begin to tell you where most of the 50 states are on a map, but when I become interested in something I make it a point to really research it. I could probably write a book on the 7 or 8 things that I'm fascinated by, and I enjoy knowing that they are not "normal" areas of expertise. I'm not smart like Bill Gates or smart like Stephen Hawkings. I prefer to think that I'm smart like Albert Einstein who, in an attempt to gain as much knowledge in his field as possible, refused to memorize basic information like his address or phone number because he didn't want to store things in his brain that he knew he could just look up. I don't clutter my brain with the knowledge of things I'll never use. I clutter it with the knowledge of things that I enjoy learning about.

That's why I'm rad. I love that I'm happy with myself. I was unhappy with myself for YEARS and that is a truly awful feeling.

Why are YOU happy with YOURSELF? Why do YOU rock? Please tell me in my comments or post your own "Why I rock / Why I'm rad" post so I can see :).

Sssssh!

I'm making healthy cupcakes for Sexy Cupcake Saturday... :::::whispers::::: just sayin'.

Tune in tomorrow to check it out.

Visiting the Lost & Found: In Search of my Inner Botticelli

It is 11:51 p.m. on January 2nd and I am just now writing my New Years post.

I am always late, just ask my mother... and my father. Actually, you could probably ask just about anyone who knows me.

For the last 48 hours, I have been amazed by some of the resolutions and beautiful thoughts that my friends have shared on their blogs. I've laughed, I've cried, I've cringed and I've snorted with amusement. And yet, I feel the slightest bit of remorse at having waited this long to post about my own thoughts and resolutions.

I've never been one to make resolutions. If I were to be totally honest, I would say that I normally scoff at the idea. However, at this exact moment, sitting at my computer and nursing my homemade cosmopolitan, not only do I feel like I want to make a few changes in my life, I think that I need to.

I would love to sit here and regal you all with the most interesting of tales... to make you weep at my loss and rejoice in my success, but 2009 really didn't mean much of anything to me. There were certainly ups and I know there were downs, but there were no monumental realizations, no epiphanies or repressed memories uncovered. That makes me feel... well... sort of boring.

I know what I want for 2010. I suppose they could be called "resolutions," but in an effort to actually stick with them for more than 4 weeks, I'd like to simply refer to them as "thought-sparks." Look at me, making up words again. Oh happy day, I've even made a list.

My Thought-Sparks for 2010:
1. I'd like to focus more on becoming financially stable. I'm not exactly sure whether that means getting a raise, finding some miraculous way to pay off our debts, or finding a job that pays me what I feel I deserve.
2. I'd like to be more patient. I feel that I will occasionally lash out at others without knowing the full story.
3. I'd like to have a more positive outlook on life. I used to view myself as neither an optimist nor pessimist, but a realist. My motto was "the glass is both half empty AND half full, but you should probably drink it before someone else does." I'm not so sure if that's my current state of mind, but I'd like to be grateful that I even HAVE a glass to begin with.
4. I'd like to stop being so stressed out. Over the last few years, I've noticed a decreased capacity for handling even the slightest amount of stress. I'd really love to change that. Feeling stress throughout 90% of your day can't be very healthy.
5. I'd like to be more healthy. That means mentally *and* physically. I'd love to drop 20 pounds, but I'd also love to believe my husband when he tells me I'm beautiful. It's been a long time since I've felt really pretty and I think that a healthy lifestyle requires a certain amount of positive self esteem.
6. I'd like to be more trusting. I suppose that this thought-spark is in direct reflection of #5.
7. Last, but certainly not least, I'd love to just get back to the old me. I understand that everyone changes, and I'm no exception to the rule. But there was a time in my life, not so long ago, that I was a completely different person. I wasn't annoyed by small and insignificant things. I wasn't completely derailed when there was a bump in my proverbial train tracks. And, most of all, I wasn't terrified of every little obstacle that got in my way.

I used to be a freaking bulldozer.

If there was an issue, I'd tackle it like a professional UFC fighter. If there was a rock in my path, I'd just kick it to the side. I didn't sit there and wonder WHY I had a rock in my path, I just picked the rock up and threw it, and then went on my merry little way. I didn't dwell over my own circumstances, knowing full well that others were dealt blows far worse than my own, I just took what I was given and made the best of it.

I'm not sure where that mental Amazonian went, and how buried in the recesses of my psyche she is, but I'd love to get her back.

I'd love to stop being terrified of everything that I can't control and the things that I don't understand.

Somewhere along the lines I lost my inner Botticelli-babe. In 2010, I hope to get her back.

Happy New Year. I hope your 2010 is filled with love, beauty and peace of mind.

A Night at the Theatre

Last night I was lucky enough to catch the Charlotte Symphony doing a Christmas concert at the Belk Theatre. It was a pretty small event that was being held by the Presbyterian church, one of which I have no affiliation to, but I am *never* one to turn down live music.
The conductor was Albert-George Schram. Let me tell you something, I have never in my life seen a conductor with that much spirit. This little man, who looked eerily similar to Albert Einstein (and my father :::::snort:::::) was up on stage bouncing and dancing and getting the audience to participate in things. Too often, we have conductors who further the stereotype that classical music should be appreciated with a stern ear, that we musn't tap our feet in unison with the beat, that we must listen but not sway our bodies to the music. I never understood how they could stand so still while moving their arms in such a stiff manner. Not Mr. Schram, no way! He was dancing all over his podium and it was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've seen this season. I swear that if you stared hard enough at him, you could probably see little streams of energy-lights shooting out of his head and into the sky like fireworks. He was awesome, and that's putting it lightly.

As far as the music goes, well, suffice it to say that I was in Heaven. It has been so long since I've sat in a chair and listened to some good, live classical music. Actually, it has been too long. That might not seem like such a big deal to some people, but I grew up on this stuff. Literally. My parents were HUGE on taking me to classical music concerts, the ballet, opera, american musical theatre. If they thought it would increase my cultural open-mindedness and artistic tendencies, we were there, front row!

It was almost pathetic, but I knew it would happen. We sat, the overhead lights dimmed, the beautiful stage was lit with all sorts of amazing lowlights in holiday shades, the music began... and I started crying. I know why I cried because it happens to me on the rare occassion that I get to watch live music.

For one thing, I am a musician. In my heart and in my soul there is always music. I hear music when I'm walking through the grocery store, you know, that soft music that noone ever pays attention to as they're shopping? I'm the one that's humming it softly or tapping my fingers to its beat on the shopping cart. I hear music when the Fall winds blow leaves off the trees, I hear it as the rain hits my chimney and I hear the tempo in thunder. In every part of my being there is music and it never, ever goes away.

I hope this isn't sounding crazy. It is damn near impossible to explain these things to people who don't appreciate music in the same way. It's the easiest thing, however, to explain it to another musician.

For me, music isn't just music, it's life. Or, to be more accurate, perhaps I should say that it's more like breath. I need it to live.

It's almost like I've been hybernating for a few years and when I get to hear live music I come out of a long, deep sleep.

Yesterday, I got to wake up for the first time in a long time.

It's not the same when it's you playing the music by yourself. If that were the case, I could have this feeling every day when I pick up my guitar or bang a song out on my piano. Anyone who has ever been in a band knows that. There's something that is literally AWESOME about playing music with others. It can be more meaningful than sex and it can bring you closer to someone than you ever imagined possible.

Music takes my soul and transforms it into something physical, something that I can actually experience with my senses.

It is the closest I have ever come to God.

Thankful Thursday... On A Wednesday.

:::::looks around:::::

Am I able to do that?

...

I'm a little worried that the Earth might shift on its axis and the mountains might turn to ash. Perhaps there will be a bit of blood in the rivers and the fish will all die?

:::::whispers::::: I'm going to try it anyways. This is totally worth it heh heh heh.

On a serious note, people, I tried really hard to wait this out. I wanted to post this on Thursday but I got the blogging bug (or the muse, rather... that sounds prettier) and I can never ignore my muse.

I hope you like pictures. You've been warned.

I have many things to be thankful for. Today I want to focus on my one and only best friend. Her name is Ondrea, but I call her Drea for short.

This is us:
Ok, ok, that's not REALLY us. That's CC Bloom and Hilary from the movie Beaches. But whatever, that movie was made specifically for us. How do I know? Easy. Those characters are the *exact* embodiment of our personalities. Drea is CC Bloom and I am Hilary (why do I always have to be the one that dies at the end?). Yeah, it is totally lame for me to compare our relationship to a cheesy 80's movie, but I'm not embarassed. I will belt out Otto Titsling in the middle of a shopping mall if I feel the need. So will Drea... no seriously, we will. Don't doubt our awsomeness, we are pretty fearless.

Here we are for real this time:

We were pretty hot stuff back in those days (oh yeah, all of these pictures are a good 10 years old). Check us out!
Drea:
And me:

And here's my favorite picture ever of Drea because I think it pretty much sums up her personality:

I think every girl should have a BFF. Someone she can call when she's down, hang with when she needs some girl time and just someone to be yourself around. Drea has been my BFF for close to 13 years now. She was the maid of honor at my wedding (she also happens to be my husband's cousin, that's how I met him!) and we've been inseparable ever since the first day we met on the school bus in 8th grade.
Remember how I said she was just like CC Bloom? She basically sat down next to me on the bus and said "Hey, I'm Ondrea. I'm going to come over your house and we're going to be best friends."
And I, being the shy outcast that I was just sort of said "Ok, that sounds cool."
The rest is pretty much history. :)

Drea is honestly my soul mate. I firmly believe that soul mates come in all shapes and sizes and I don't believe that a soul mate is someone you have to be in a romantic relationship with.

I just know that Drea literally completes me. If we go more than 48 hours without talking, something just seems wrong.

Our friendship has lasted through the major distance that was put between us when she moved from Florida to Vegas and then when I moved from Florida to North Carolina and she moved from Vegas to California and then from California back to Vegas and then from Vegas to Colorado. Are you getting all this? Distance doesn't get in the way of our friendship. Nothing ever does. It's so nice to have an unconditional friend. Those don't come around very often, if they ever do at all.

So, I am dedicating this Thankful Thendnesursday (that's right, I combined Wednesday and Thursday into one awesome word) to my best friend, Drea. I could never in a million years wish for a better friend.

PS - I'm so excited that I finally get to follow a blog from her. She has such an amazing talent with words. If you want to check out her blog (you'd be just in time for her Wicked Wednesdays which are so great!) click Here . Even our blogs are inextricably linked for some reason, as you'll see if you visit her and take a look at the "If She Didn't Laugh, I Would Cry" post.

And, Drea, since I know you're reading this... I toatz love you (that's WAY more than totally). Thanks for giving me something to be thankful for :).

PPS - It's my birthday. I'm pretty sure someone needs to find me a cupcake and stat.

Friday Confessions

I've decided to make this Friday a day for my confessions, because this week I have been a pretty awful person.

For starters, at the moment I am having this for breakfast. Please excuse the awful camera quality. That's a cupcake, just so you know... a chocolate frosting cupcake at 10:00 in the morning. Wow:


Last night, after dinner, I went to Starbucks to meet up with my new friend and I had one of these:


I have had 4 of these this week:


I have $24.90 in the bank right now. Luckily, Russell gets paid today. However, I am seriously contemplating buying these:
I've never owned a pair of Winter boots before. I like them. They are FLUFFY!

To finalize my confessions, I joined Twitter last week because I thought that little bluebird was so damn cute. You know which one I'm talking about

That's him! He's adorable. I joined a social network site solely because I liked the gimmick... now THAT is what I call good marketing, my friends.

Perpetual Near Death Experiences

People who have had a near death experience usually tell you that, in the instant prior to *almost* dying, they were able to see their entire life flash before their eyes. I always found that odd. How can one see an entire lifetime in a matter of seconds?

I think I'm starting to figure it out.

I set my clocks back at 2:00 this morning and realized that it is November 1st. In 17 days I will be 26. I'm not old by any means, but I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that I've been on this Earth for 26 years. I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the truth of the matter... that, even though I remember the smell of my hair on my wedding day, even though I remember the look on my father's face the night he had his stroke and I found him lying in the middle of his bedroom and thought he had been shot, even though I remember the taste of the sweat running from my hair and into my mouth on the night I played that awesome show at the Culture Room with my very first band when I was just 14 years old... that it has been YEARS since any of these things occurred.

Am I living in a state of perpetual near death experiences? Is that why these memories still flash before my eyes almost every single day? I always wonder if I'm the only one who relives so many experiences on a daily basis. I suppose that everyone thinks this way. I think it's part of being human. We are always wondering if we're the only ones.

Are we the only ones in the galaxy or are there others just like us? Am I the only one of my friends who will have trouble getting pregnant? Am I the only one who doesn't believe that everything happens for a reason? Am I the only one who likes to put oreo cookies on cheese pizza or barbecue sauce on my tuna fish? Probably not.

It almost seems arrogant to think that, out of the entire universe, I would be the only one to feel so much nostalgia over the past that I have trouble enjoying the present.

I feel as though my life is going by too fast.

Happy Birthday, Blog!

Well, how exciting is this?! Today is my Blogiversary!

One year ago today, I sat down and created this blog. Since then it has become an obsessive project for me, but I love having something I feel proud of. I guess you could say The Daily Tribal has become my "baby."

Speaking of babies... I thought this would be a sad day for me, since I created this blog the same day that my husband and I decided to have a baby; meaning that today I am one year into trying to conceive.

Surprisingly, I am not all that upset. For one thing, the *trying* part is actually quite fun (hardy har har), the longer it takes to get pregnant the more money we save, and we're slowly paying down some credit card debt that might take a bit longer if we were to factor in child care and all other things baby related.

About two weeks ago, I noticed that this has become more than a baby blog for me. It has slowly evolved into a safehaven for my thoughts and all my crazy musings... and it feels great to be able to share them with others.

So, without launching into a nostalgic mush-fest of epic proportions, I'd like to say: Happy Birthday, blog! And what's a birthday without a sexy cupcake?!

Of Life and Chapstick

I, like so many of my female friends, am addicted to chapstick. If you can push it up a tube and slather it on your lips, I want it.

It was on Sunday afternoon while waiting for my husband to finish getting a haircut that I reached for the green tea mint eucalyptus chapstick that will cure your chapped lips and possibly cancer. It was only $1.95, stacked neatly among the myriad tubes of shampoos and conditioners that the salon sold, why shouldn't I buy it? It seemed like a simple enough purchase. But then I realized that I have so many half finished tubes of chapstick in my purse that maybe, just maybe I didn't need this particular tube.

I began thinking... is this the way we live? The "chapstick logic" can be applied to so many aspects of life: love, sex, marriage, hobbies, work. How many tubes of chapstick can we take on at one time? I suppose that if someone were to be very adventurous, they could take on a ton of different tubes, but would they be able to use each and every tube to its full potential before it expires? Probably not.
In this day and age, we are so quick to take on every little thing that life throws at us. At what point do we say "That's enough! I can't take on anything else. I need to focus on what I already have."?

What would happen if we tried couple's therapy with our significant others instead of filing for yet another divorce or ending yet another relationship prematurely? Would we be happier with one sexual partner than ten? If we actually finished the scrapbook we'd been working on for years instead of jumping to the next pretty arts and crafts project that caught our eye, how well would it have turned out? Would we have been incredibly proud of ourselves and would we have had more of a sense of accomplishment?

Having a purse full of chapstick may seem like a good idea when the tube is sitting so prettily on the counter, coaxing you into putting a whopping $1.95 on your debit card. But once you purchase that tube, you're pretty much stuck with it, and you can only use it for so long before it goes bad and needs to be thrown out. Is it really so hard to stick with what you've already committed yourself to? I bet it would feel better to actually finish one tube, than to throw away the lot of them because you spread yourself so thin that you couldn't finish any of them.

In case you're wondering, I put the chapstick back. I have three or four tubes I'm working through and I think, for now, that's plenty.

Battle of the Sexes

I had it out with my husband today. We sat down at Aladdin's Eatery (they have delicious Dawali wraps) with our Lebanese beers and empty stomachs and, over a period of 45 minutes, we discussed the epic battle of the sexes.
In a daring attempt to test my boundaries, I left the dishes undone in the sink and waited for someone else to do them. After four days of absolute torture - I hate dirty dishes - I caved and did them myself.
"Why is it that I get absolutely no help around the house? How come everyone expects me to do the dishes?" I asked.
"I thought it was second nature to you."
This was probably the most interesting thing I had ever heard my husband say. I mean, I wasn't mad... perhaps I should have been. But I love my husband very much and he's a great man. He wouldn't say something with the intention of pissing me off, so I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Um," here's where I take a very large sip of beer. "What exactly does that mean?"
"Well, I mean," long pause. "It's just that I do physical labor all day. I sweat, I carry heavy things, I don't sit on my ass in a comfy office chair like you. My job is more stressful."
I found this pretty interesting. By now, you may have realized that I use the word "interesting" when I'm looking for a nice way of saying "fucking stupid." Did he really think that his job was more challenging than mine? I always figured we had equally challenging jobs. He does physical labor and my job is mentally stressful. Surely the fifty screaming parents and angry customers I deal with on a daily basis, managing an entire company and its lesson program, could be categorized as a stressful job. Surely, I deserve to sit and watch t.v. after I get off of work too.
The conversation ended friendly enough. Again, I'm certainly not implying that my husband sits around and does nothing all night. He cooked dinner tonight and he will occasionally help by sweeping or mopping. There are battles that I choose to fight, and throwing axes about housework is not something I'm willing to do at the moment.
But it did get me thinking... should my husband be exempt from housework because his job is physically challenging? Should I be exempt from it because I have a mentally stressful job? At what point do husbands feel entitled to be lazy? And at what point should wives feel entitled to some help?

When Time Flies, Where Does It Go?

What an awful blogger I have been. Two months and no posts. Come to think of it, I haven't even read any of the blogs I used to frequent on a daily basis. Life has just been so overwhelming, and not necessarily in a bad way.
I'm always amazed at just how fast time goes by, and not only when I'm having fun. My life seems to just keep flying by and, even through the bad times, I'm shocked at how quickly the days turn into weeks and months and years.
Among the many things swirling around in this proverbial town called Amberville, there was the death of my dog, Danzig, last Sunday. It was one of the hardest things that I've ever had to try and overcome. He was just a baby, getting ready to turn 4 next month. In a fun twist of fate, he was born on my birthday and I used to always refer to him as my cutest gift ever. He died of kidney and liver failure... the vet at the animal hospital said there was absolutely nothing more we could have done for him because it was something that had been happening for a long time, probably since he was born. I felt absolutely awful and helpless, but we did everything we could to keep him comfortable on his last night. We took him home from the hospital so he could be with us in the comfort of our home and we cuddled with him until he died about an hour later.
I miss him so much and I think today was actually the first day that I didn't cry. I know I'll always miss him, but he taught me so much about kindness, patience, love and (with his passing) the acceptance that there are things in life I will never be able to control.
He also helped me to understand that I'm a lot stronger than I give myself credit for. Throughout the entire ordeal, Russell and I maintained the most positive outlook that we could. When they told us that he was doing poorly, we told ourselves that with the IVs and medical attention he would pull through it and he'd get better. When they told us that they didn't think he was well enough for surgery, we told them to keep him at the hospital no matter what the cost and that he'd be ready for surgery soon. When they told us to euthanize him because there was no way he was going to make it, we told them we wanted to take him home so that we could be with him and, perhaps because we were in denial, nurse him back to health ourselves.
At each negative turning point I told myself that I couldn't deal with any more, that I'd become physically ill if I got more bad news... and yet every time poor Danzig was dealt another blow I managed to listen and hope for the best.
Even when we had a funeral for him and we buried him under the weeping willow tree in our back yard, when I could hear my heart beat in my ears because I was crying so hard, I picked up a shovel and helped pour the dirt into his grave. I wanted to do whatever I could to carry some of what was happening on my shoulders. He was my baby, what else could I do?
I wish we could have had Ziggy in our lives forever, or at least for a while longer than we did.
The time really did fly by... and I have no idea where it went.

New Martini Glasses!

That's right, this shopaholic in recovery went out and blew a couple bucks on something unnecessary... what of it?! :P

No, but seriously, I found some very cute martini glasses on clearance at Target (which is also where I got those nifty plates 2 posts below).

These were only $10!


I love clearance sales... :::::sigh:::::