I hate those days I have so much to say and 99% of it is highly inappropriate. Or, not worth the repercussions I’d experience.  And for anyone who might be nosy, I’m clocked out on my lunch break.  Lord knows we wouldn’t want some untrue rumors flying throughout THIS building.  I shall stop being moody & sarcastic and get down to it:  it’s time to move on.  This is a transitional time in my life.  Some things I shall let go of, others I shall take hold of.  And to be honest, at this point, I’m open to whatever God wants to take or give up to & including my location, career, friendships, love, parenthood, etc.  I’d like to keep my car because I like it a lot.  I’ve done a lot of hard work to get my body in better shape for a healthier life and that too I’d like to keep.  My poor Chloe is nearing the end I fear and so at this point, whenever God needs her to go to heaven is just fine with me.  She’s been my constant love for many, many years and taught me a great deal.  Other than that, if God wants it to be removed or replaced, let’s do this.  It’s time to live a more authentic, gratifying life.  I’m going to go ride my red bike now and get out of this office!  A bike ride always helps my mood.

2013 has turned into a year of spiritual confusion (amongst other confusion). Basically what it boils down to experiences, events, emotions and changes I don’t understand. I cannot comprehend that all of these things are how it is supposed to be. Yet, I hear God smiling and telling me, “Yep, this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.” It’s a very odd thing: conflict and confusion followed by a deep inner voice saying to push thru because I’m doing the right thing.

It’s been that way with friendships and work. My dog. Everything. It’s like I have this feeling in my gut and it seems stupid, ridiculous and worrisome beyond belief to me. But, yet again, I hear a voice telling me it wouldn’t be touching my heart had it not been meant to do so. I don’t get how any of this is supposed to end up good. Will I turn around someday and bless this broken road??? Really? Cause I am not sure. I just know that if he keeps telling me to “do this” and “love that” and “trust them”…I guess I will. I feel like I’m at a crossroads and God is saying to take a path that is unlit, frightening, dangerous to the soul if I am not extremely diligent. I don’t necessarily like that. I like easy, fun, bright paths. Trust & love someone who makes me wanna retreat so far inside myself and never come out again?! How is it he puts these emotions inside a human with absolutely no guarantee that my patience and love will not end up tearing me apart? Seriously? I’m supposed to do that?? I just wish I could get a glimpse down the road.

Alas, faith is a treacherous journey and not for the fearful. So, I just have to trust. Amazingly, when I feel some of these things that are so irrational I become calm because I hear that voice and I know it never leads me wrong. It makes no sense and I should turn around and go down a different road; but I’ve never been afraid of the unconventional and I’m not a coward. I just question my sanity!!! Love is crazy, even from the divine I guess.

Last night, my brother & I had one of the most intimate conversations we’ve ever had I think. The subject was how heartbroken he was because his kids were far away, there’s a step father in their life that lives with them day in and day out now, and just how to deal with it. Ironically, I know someone and I think he might be going through the same thing. No situation is exactly like another, but there are a LOT of men out there like these guys I know. I realized my brother vocalized some, but men in general just never vocalize as much as women. But what they do say tends to speak volumes. For me, I just ramble until some of it makes sense. And when it comes to this subject, I have to admit I can’t understand. I can imagine and analyze but no, I don’t know what that feels like. You think you can’t live without someone, but how do you live without your own kids?

It’s one reason I don’t have kids. I haven’t found someone—nor was I the person—willing to sacrifice their own pleasures and take on some pain for the sake of my kids having a daddy with them. I think I’m finally ready to be the woman who puts someone else first. Character has become sexy the last couple of years. Sexy is still sexy, not to be misunderstood. But now when I think of a relationship, I think of it as a partnership. A real give & take, ebb & flow, sometimes it’s me & sometimes it’s you kinda deal. Time makes sense now whereas in the past it didn’t. I’d jump all in never thinking twice! I think I mentioned my spontaneity recently. These days, I’d like to see a man in several situations and see how he handles the tough decisions before I can let myself see him as a figure in my life. And, for the first time EVER, I’ve dated guys who had kids. That might not be a big deal for you people, but for me I’ve always had the rule “no kids.” You can call that selfish or smart but I just don’t think it’s cool to get involved with someone who has baggage you know you aren’t prepared to deal with. Now, mid-30s, I see ex’s & kids different. Maybe it’s my brother who has brought this on. I think seeing the strife and struggle he has in his life made me realize I actually do have what it takes to be a good negotiator and I can take the backseat quite well for the sake of someone else’s getting the love they need.

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have said that. Oh yes, my older blogs about Shawn always refer to his parenting—lack thereof, rather—and my ideals on that. But what we get into at age 19 and step out of at 27 changes us. Maybe I saw what it took and knew I didn’t have it? Maybe I felt like a failure because he didn’t believe in his kid the way I did? Or the role of the father in a child’s life? Certainly I tried to force him into action and ultimately, that’s when I knew I had to walk away. Despite our own deep & difficult problems, he didn’t take care of his kid. Or bother to find out if it was his. I wasn’t standing by the side of a man like that. (He did, it was, and I have no idea how their relationship is now). Now, I kinda see the fact a man has a kid as part of the testing period before jumping. How does he feel about his kids and the situation he’s in with or without them? How does he manage that struggle?

For Austin, it’s both visibly and discreetly excruciating. He doesn’t have a lot of money, and it just recently came to my attention that does, in fact, have some reflection on how good a parent you can be. I had to really step back and see this. When you’re married with kids and you don’t have money or mismanage what you have, it’s the adult problems. It effects kids—how many of you grew up poor, or at least had times in your life where Spam was for dinner (a lot)?? See, it affects you but at least I got to sit down with my mom & dad at the same table when the Spam got served. Now, for Austin, not having money and kids being 3 hours away means he has to scramble to see them. And when the opportunity does come to see them more than a weekend or two a month, he has to sacrifice something else. Maybe lunch for himself to make sure they have milk and mac & cheese while they are with him. And if he doesn’t have gas money and too much pride to ask for it? He doesn’t see his kids. I love my sister-in-law and for the most part I think she does a good job. Maybe she doesn’t have the money to do more but I swear on everything I’ll ever have, if I was a parent I’d do whatever it took to keep the kids relationships with both parents strong. If that meant I had to spend extra to get them to their daddy, so be it. If it meant sending some food with them so he didn’t have to buy it, then that’s what I’d do.

It’s easy to get on my soapbox seeing as how it’s really not my box to be on, you know? But it’s my blog. I get to do that. (Unless Austin says take it down). Here’s my feelings on some of this I see: first off, that 50/50 bullshit ended with the divorce papers. [And if you want to know the harsh reality, it’s my opinion marriage isn’t always a 50/50 thing. If you’re lucky, you get to share a life with someone who helps you in any way they can. Maybe that’s 50/50 or maybe you do all the cleaning, I don’t know. Who am I to judge? I just know as I age I see things a little different.] I strayed off subject. Post-divorce you are now obligated to do one thing: make sure your children get as much love and as little emotional harm as necessary. Unless the other parent is neglectful and dangerous, you owe it to your kids to give them a relationship that is as full as it can be. If that means you have to drive farther, do a little more, or inconvenience yourself then THAT IS WHAT YOU DO. There cannot be room for whining. You are a selfish person if you have the means to help the relationship with the other parent and you do not nurture it. I guess after seeing this a lot with others and after it came close to home, I decided I wanted kids and if the man I loved had kids then I was willing to do whatever it’d take to make their life as good as it can possibly be.

Part of my discussion with Austin lent to the obvious thing about dating someone with kids: you are not number one. And if you think you should be, then you are selfish and unrealistic. Why would you even want to date a person who didn’t put his kids first in his mind and heart??? What kind of man is that anyway? But like Austin & I were discussing, what if his heart is broken by the state of his relationship and/or ability to care for his kids? Now, what kind of man is THAT? Can he love someone else—a woman for example—with a heart that’s severed and hurting? [at this very spot I was just reminded it’s Mothers Day…freaky?] What I concluded about this after talking to Austin, is that it might be impossible for someone to love a woman when his heart is already broke. Part of it is that there is a chance for more hurt, and he can’t take that. You can live without a romantic lover, but you can’t really live without your kids. You can get by, but it’s no kind of life when pieces are missing. The hurt that is there is unimaginable to me. Part of it is that with strife and uneasiness and problems out of his control, he can’t take on more of those with a woman. And what he didn’t say but I conclude, is that he’d feel guilty to be spending carefree and blissful times on weekends with a woman and he’d feel more guilt for not being there for the kids (even though it isn’t his weekend and he has zero reason for that self-inflicted pain). He’s telling himself that he can’t take care of himself or his kids and how’s he gonna love some girl? Austin can feel free to comment and tell me how far off I am, but I think guilt might be the biggest factor in his life. What I find ironic is that I want my brother to find a good, honest, bold, sacrificing, and loving woman (just like his sister in other words) because that would be someone to help him be a better dad. The right woman will not stand for injustice and fight for him when he’s too beat down or he’s beating himself up. At least that’s how I picture sis-n-law #2. She’d gladly share her income to make him and the kids lives together better; it wouldn’t even cross her mind not to do so. And if she ever tried to hang it over his head, she better be prepared for the Sister Bitch Slap!!! just kidding. no, no I’m not kidding….

I don’t know anything about what I just wrote about. I’m like in the stands of the parenting game. I can only see what goes on across the field. And you don’t really learn to be a player from the bleachers. As in most things about this life, I research, observe, and study gaining a lot of knowledge, but no experience. Wow, I totally depressed myself LOL. Austin said there’s hope for a girl he knows, so I hold out my own I guess. In the meantime, my prayers for my brother and all the single dads I know just increased.

My therapist said my homework the next two weeks is to write down what love is. I used to think love was friendship caught on fire. But then shit burnt to the ground. I honestly am sitting here drinking a beer with my feet up and I am clueless. You see, how would I know? If I knew what it was would I be here alone? I guess that’s possible. Knowing something doesn’t just mean it will pop up in your life.

I’ve heard people say it happens when you least expect it but on the few times I wondered if it could be love, the unexpected gave me a slap to the face. Others try to make it sound rational and that there is a formula to love. Is it like cooking and there is a recipe to follow? A cup of this and a teaspoon of that and viola you have it?! Honest to God, I’m confused y’all. Is it still love even if it isn’t reciprocated?

Sometimes I think love you give is proportionate to the love you have for yourself. I wasn’t allowed to be “me” in my marriage much so I think the ultimate love is to let someone be whoever they are. That’s an act of courage. To know they might change their mind and go another direction. But how do you reconcile the pain when it’s gone? You look inside you and remind yourself quietly, without going crazy, that life goes on? Tell yourself by the person being honest you are freed by the truth? Does it ever die even after their gone? I love some people who are passed away, that love never died. Of course I mean Kim mostly. I remember her telling me about a goat one day in high school. I was all punk rock with the Sex Pistols and rips in my jeans and here we were having this conversation, her in cowboy boots. Two opposites who loved just hearing about each other when we could. I think that’s one of the last things we ever said to each other. It was by the commons. I still see her standing by the library window. That must have been at the end of junior year.

And today, I weep because she is gone. Just like it happened yesterday. It took me three tries to type “yesterday” just now because of tears. That’s love. It took 15+ years to learn to live with that love being gone. Life didn’t show me how much I loved until she was gone. Part of me went too. No doubt.

I recently dated a guy who reminds me of home. People sometimes say love is like that too–coming home, ya know? For some reason Kim always drifts to my mind for just a flicker when he’s around. I can’t explain that to you at all. Why is it? Because the last person I loved who wore cowboy boots died? That’s kinda weird, but I am at a loss on why else that would happen. Aside from Kim he reminds me of driving down country roads and everyone waved at each other. No one waves at each other here. Why the hell aren’t people waving?! He’s a weird mix of coming home and going on a limb. I liked that. I will miss that. He reminded me of home because home is the place you can try new things and always know someone is there to catch you. You can make it on your own just fine. I do it everyday. But home is that place where you get to look at someone else’s crazy and know you’re part of them. Hell, home is when you know you drive the other people crazy!!! Maybe that’s love….
To be continued.

It’s a real bad week. I’m not gonna try and make it all pretty. I hate myself for getting this low and for the reasons behind it, but I’m a hot mess. (One of you is thinking if I stopped listening to the country music I’d be better off…I know it). I’m on pain pills and laying here on the couch crying. I’ve gone from crying MAYBE once a year to the little explosive teapot. And I’m not gonna pretend I’m ok.

I’m really over my life right now. I lost some friendships last month. And before that I had been drinking too much. I found someone I thought I could trust and had gotten comfortable with (and fuck it if I didn’t let that devil Hope creep in) and the plug got pulled on that for reasons that have nothing to do with me. Or maybe that’s the BS I feed myself just to keep some shred of fucking dignity. I didn’t see that coming. You’ll have that. It is whatever it is.

Maybe it’s because I’m not as strong a woman as I thought. But I’m really over being strong. In fact, I have played the crusader for years. Climbed the ladder at work to pave the way for others. But honestly I look at the whiney, petty crap I hear from the women at work and realize I wasted my fuckin time. I was the strong, independent single woman. Didn’t need a soul but had my friends to get by. Bought this house. Have a fast & classy (sarcastic) car in the driveway. Worked so hard to get it. God the shit I swallowed and humiliation it took to acquire things. And the bullshit I kept around me! Lawd so much bullshit from people and loved them anyway. Cause that’s what the gurus say to do. I found so many silver linings the last decade. I threw so much fucking glitter and told myself tomorrow was gonna be awesome.

Well here we are and it’s tomorrow. I’m 34 and single with no prospects, no kids, my family is 600 miles away, this house is empty and lonely, my dog is dying and she is the closest thing to a family, my job isn’t what I love. I have lost about 30 lbs this year. I have a tan and a rocking body. Oh I get so damned tired of hearing what a catch I’ll be! Well listen here, apparently I’m not in season or the fisherman went on strike. Or maybe I bite the wrong fucking bait EVERY time. And FYI I
am NOT gonna get blown away for being this skinny. Unless its a tornado or hurricane so quit saying that stupid shit. Again, I worked exceptionally diligently to get here. Keep your opinion of my body to yourself.

My homework from my therapist is to make a list of what love is and what are deal breakers to me in a relationship. Something tells me when I turn in that assignment we’ll get to hear how I have been off track on some of my ideas concerning love. Well, again, the strong me will dust off and dive into being a better person with a greater understanding. Fuck that. In case you missed the above, I am not up for it. I’m weak. Clearly. Maybe the strong woman pushing through the last decade was the facade.

I’ll tell you, for someone not feeling strong I’ve been contemplating for days which wall I can punch and cover up with photos. Maybe it’s a breakdown. It’s been coming. Read the blog from day one. It’s no surprise.

It probably boils down to something as simple as human connection. Or maybe I over connected. Gave too much of a shit and lended a hand to people I should have punched in the face. Dated some guys who just need a kick in their tiny balls.

I said earlier the latest connection I didn’t see the rug being pulled. But as I look at myself, I get it. I’m over being strong. I don’t need saving; I am not up for saving anyone else either. But if you think you can bring a smile and save me, you better be one hell of a man who doesn’t scare easily. I require a strong man who isn’t afraid. Who can pull me out of my little funks like this one. No fuck that, I need a man whose been thru hell and has been equally strong in his life and can look me in the eye and say he’s been here. You never wondered if The Lord was willing and felt the creek rise? then I don’t want you. There, we have an entry on the list: deal breaker–shit gets tough and he ducks and don’t fight or confront it, then he’s out. Don’t let my foot get to your ass before the door hits it. Cause let’s be real: this too shall pass and I’ll keep fighting. When I snap out of this I’ll be that girl who doesn’t give up.

This isn’t a cry for help. I don’t want anyone telling me it will get better. I just don’t. I’m angry and this shit is between me and God right now. I just wanted to vent and make sure you know where I’m coming from. If I don’t smile or say good morning, this is why. I want some Michael Jackson drugs. I need a coma. I just need a break from my own brain. It gets really exhausting being the only noise in this house.

People change. We can change our minds, start over, or leave things behind. Lately, I wouldn’t say I have changed but I will say I’m more of me. Parts I’ve hated for a long time, I’m accepting. And yes, that means things are different.

Lets start with some items I personally get a real kick out of: country music and guns. I’ve began listening to country music again. Not that it ever got as far away as you might think. I’ve taken to writing while watching CMT & GAC (those are the MTV & VH1 of country FYI). I have downloaded way more country music than I can afford too! This brings a smile to my face.

I give off such a rocker image. Lord knows you can’t deny that. I remember at USM a girl my first semester was my Study Buddy and she was trying to put me in a clique in her mind and she said “oh you’re a rocker?” First off, I guess so because that was one I never heard of. Makes sense I wouldn’t know what the shit kickers or preps were calling me LOL! And yes, I suppose I am a rocker. But country was just part of my roots and maybe I denied it. I remember tractor pulls & rodeos. My dad plays steel guitar. My grandmother lived on a big ranch outside San Marcus for a while. I rode my first horse there. Country was always on our radios. Especially Mom. Dad did his duty by giving me my rock and roll fix.

And while I have been on this CMT kick, I discovered this show called Guntucky. It cracks me up and I learn about weapons. My parents owned Red River Gun & Ammo during my jr high days. My dad was a reserve officer for SPD for years and years. My boyfriends were known to go shoot with my family while I would sleep or read in the truck. Yes, it was always a truck I think. So again, this isn’t really a new thing. Like the music, these are things from my past that I rekindled.

And speaking of the past, remember skinny me? Well, she’s back. I’m a size 4 again. I am a little vain these days but I cannot tell you one time in my life I felt really good about my body image. To finally feel good enough to myself is the best feeling in the world. Wait, second best 😉 I have to be careful not to let it go to my head but I must say that doing something for me and seeing results is a damn good thing. I came to realize that I was indeed an emotional eater. I still pig out sometimes (I’ve had like 3000 calories today!!!) but it’s pretty easy to spot when I’m trying to fill a void or distract my brain with food instead of feeling some emotion. It’s a huge deal for someone who has hated mirrors her whole life.

I think I’m starting to be comfortable with all of me. And I’m a lot of contradictions at times. Accepting that–no, ENJOYING that–is a great thing. I’d love to say I’m at a peaceful place but I’m not. I over think and worry too much for that. I am however at a much more peaceful spot than I have been in a long time. That’s good enough for me. Maybe though that’s what peace is: taking what you have and loving it while seeking more. Whatever it is, it’s working for now.

I’ve really had to Woman Up the last little bit. I’ve never really had to woman up to anyone before, I’ll be honest.  I think some of that is because I’m 34, single, without kids.  That’s a selfish life no matter what pretty things you wanna wrap it in.  Sure, at times it’s a totally adult, torturously lonely time when hard decisions are made or the days have been hell at work.  Coming home and being your own salvation is pretty evolving.  But, you can also come home from those tired-as-hell days, throw your shoes all over the floor, go spend a bunch of money on yourself if you want, and (if you really must) the occasional cry-like-a-baby-cause-you-can move is acceptable.  Those are pretty easy reactions.  That kinda attitude can crawl over to your personal relationships too.  You get a little selfish after so many years alone.  Let’s face it: singlehood is the ultimate Your Way Right Away lifestyle.  No one has to be consulted or contacted.  It’s a burden at times, but even on the days it’s a burden you still have to decide based only on what YOU want.  Shit, there’s no one to even consider so what else are you supposed to do?

Well, I’ve taken the last month or so to further inspect the decisions I’ve made as a single woman.  I’ve inspected why I’ve spent time with friends and lovers.  Why is it I have a great life and still longing for more?  The reason was relatively simple: I wasn’t being authentically me.  The year 2013 started out being a huge slap that I wasn’t with who I needed anywhere in my life.  I wasn’t as close to God as I need to be.  I used to have no trouble seeing God in every element of earth.  I’ve been like a bratty little kid trying to get my way instead of listening to the wiser voice.  All this boiled down to one simple concept:  I was settling for less in life.  Less from myself, less from others, less from life in general.  And when I realized God has a LOT more in store for me, things got peaceful.   God’s message was simple: Woman Up.

Here’s what I’ve learned so far when I Woman Up:

Turning my selfishness into being honest with myself is freeing.  I’ve learned to be still inside and really sit with the pain or anxiety and figure out the root of the problem.  Instead of burying things with Xanax, alcohol, clothes, food, or any other distraction I am breathing deeper and letting the feelings I’m uneasy with float to my heart.  I can truly examine them.  I mean, everyone’s issues are gonna come up one way or another.  Being honest about them and not being self-destructive is highly empowering.  And better decisions made quicker brings some peace unlike anything else I’ve ever felt.  Also, making decisions by yourself and living with the consequences instead of whining “what should I do?” to your friends is like going from a murky swamp full of gators in your soul to the crystal clear waters of Fiji. 

Everything in God’s plan has a timetable.  Rushing life is missing life.  I read a book recently and when people of genocide and other horrible tragedy spoke of what they missed, it was the smallest, everyday moments that meant the most to them.  Watching a movie together, dancing, taking a Sunday drive (WHY ARE MY PARENTS THE ONLY PEOPLE STILL DOING THIS?!), and those moments that slip by us without much notice until they’re gone.  The things I miss about people that are gone are the silly things I never said “thank you” for when they were here.  I thank my ex husband all the time for singing little songs to me and teaching me things about cars.  I want a great love story like every girl but I’d rather have a slow, beautiful story that lasts next time around.  I’ll take a smile everyday over great bursts of joy followed by long lulls of feeling lonely with someone.  I was made by God to act spontaneously and not hesitate at times.  Woman Up has meant learning new ways to be courageous and sometimes that courage means slowing down; sometimes it’s that heart pounding in your ear when you defeat fears moment-by-moment.

Reacting with immature emotions and actions is only going to prolong the problem. Seeing a situation for what it is can sometimes be painful.  Sometimes Woman Up means looking straight at the hurt and crying about it.  But Woman Up also means accepting it exactly as it is—come to Jesus anyone?—and finding peace in it.  Stirring it up is lazy & immature.  I ditched friends who love to stir.  I’m not going to be that woman.  Even two year olds get over tantrums quickly.  God made me better than that.  I can tame the crazy child inside.  Facing truth is risky but it’s what true freedom really means.

To Woman Up is to see yourself as perfectly flawed and loving everything God made about you. To hate yourself is to deny that God did everything right.  When I see myself—and everyone else—in that light there are far less wrongs in life.  We can all improve.  There are some that want to and some that don’t.  And, everything/everybody is subject to change.  Accept & respect that.  Instead of going through the same old lines of judging, I’m starting to ask myself why I am judging to begin with.  What’s it say about me that I react in this way?  Again, it’s a quicker and more powerful way to peace.

Let it go.  After you get to the point where you’re clear on it, let it go.  That’s what real acceptance is—taking it at face value and moving along happily.  Woman Up and go about your life being happy.  It didn’t turn out the way I wanted?  That’s fine.  This isn’t my creation, it’s Gods.  The quicker I see that the quicker I can make myself and others happy.  Bottom line: I work through the situation with all the tools I have been blessed with (love, trust, vulnerability, music, writing, self-control, and everything I alluded to above) and build a happy life for myself.  <—that’s the ultimate test of courage and only a real woman can Woman Up to that.

I’m sure there’s more to it but I’m going to go outside and play with my friends now.

I’ve been known to put up some mad walls to people.  I have a sad pattern of not handling some situations to the best of my ability.  I’m proactive in trying to do better.  The Good Lord tested me again.  I feel like I’ve failed.  I don’t know what it is I fail at: seeing someone else’s perspective, my own faults, my reactions, inability to say the right thing at the right time, or that when I’m hurt I have a very bad series of reactions.  I wish I knew how to handle pain better.  Not physical pain, I can handle that.  Well, not really, I’m still a big baby.  But emotionally I just sink down and then my claws come out.  I can’t handle emotional pain.  The thought struck me just now that I just have to calm down and let it hurt.  I can crash and claw at everything and in the end, it will still hurt.  So I can just sit down and cry and feel it for once instead of avoiding it.  In other words, I’m going to confront some fears.  Be vulnerable to it.  Trust someone.  Trust the process.  I didn’t see this sword coming at me but facts are that it struck.  Walking around crazy ain’t gonna help.  Saying nothing hit me and continue into battle is ridiculous.  Pull it out, lay it down, and tend to the wound.  That’s what it is!  I don’t tend to the wounds well at all.  I let them get infected and angry there is a scar.  Ugh.  Whatever.  I’m not sure I make sense.

I am a mover and shaker in both work and my personal life. Perhaps it was the success in career that made me think I could get a good handle on life and tame it to barrel race on the course I set. I realize I’m an anxiety filled individual. I’m also driven to make things happen based out of, at least partially, that anxiety. It’s not always a bad thing. I keep myself mentally strong and I have a Plan B for most everything. But sometimes I can go into overdrive. And some items on my life check off list cannot have a Plan B no matter how much I feel the need to see the future. Relationships, kids, and pretty much any human connection deserves the present moment; a Plan B is almost a disgrace to what’s going on right now. Sadly, instead of Plan B’ing finances and such–things that can be Plan B’d–I become careless and spend way too much on retail therapy. Usually because I have no control over Plan A. It’s a silly little game to play.

However, I will say a lot of the shopping I have done on clothes the last 6 months has been out of need. Because of a gain to a 14, and subsequent loss to a size I was when I was 19, I don’t have clothes that fit!!! So, I do grant pardon in that area. Besides, if I have the credit limit and I can slide into a size 4, damnit I’m going to go buck wild this time. Last time I was a 4 I thought I was fat. As me & my cousin Amy say, “FTS.” I’m enjoying the 2013 weight loss extravaganza as a pure fashion festival. To look in a mirror and smile and love myself is one of the most healing events of my life. I tried and I succeeded. And you know what? That’s an area where there is no Plan B. My health and my body are something I get one shot at. I did that right this year.

So maybe starting this blog by feeling I lack any understanding of so-called Plan A & B is not quite accurate. If I thought harder about it, I might could find more examples. Still, I need to slow down, stop worrying so damn much!!!, and trust God’s process. My phone is blowing up from people who want to shop and eat steaks so FTS about worrying and I’m going to go have some fun!