Betty

Today marks the 16th year since my sweet and amazing grandma passed away. 16 years. That's a whole person who can drive. Each year it comes around, and each year i reflect on what an amazing person i was lucky enough to have in my life for 19 years.

I was telling Brooks last night about a paper i wrote for a correspondence class in high school. I had to write about who my hero was. I picked my grandma. In telling him about why i felt that way, my voice started to crack and my eyes started to tear up. Saying that she was an amazing woman, is putting it lightly. You really had to know her to understand.

She wasn't an "American hero", like a soldier or a war hero...but for me, she was my hero for how strong and selfless she was. She practically raised me. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She was always there for me, in my good times and all of the bad times. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She went to parent teacher conferences when my mom was mad and had stopped talking to me for whatever reason (she did that many times, and no one ever understood why she was mad, but it could go on for a couple weeks at a time). Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She kept my deepest secrets from everyone. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She worked extra hours once, to pay for my school pictures and year book. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She never raised her voice to me, even when she was really mad. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. She wrote me a letter everyday when i was at summer camp for two weeks, a couple summers in a row. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

Her name was Elizabeth Mary Crandall, which she always hated. She went by Betty instead. It suited her. She was caring, and warm. She was sweet, and kind. She had a light about her that i haven't seen in many people since. And when i was a kid and i'd hear that some kids never saw their grandparents, or they were mean people, it made me so sad for them. They didn't have someone in their life like i did. I realized how very lucky i was and how much she truly blessed my life just by being in it. She was the only grandparent i had. But the thing is, i never felt like i was missing the other 3. She more than made up for the lack of grandparents in my life. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

Once when i was in 9th grade, it became very apparent to me that i didn't have a regular family. I know...it took me that long to really "get" it. My oldest friend in the world, who i had known since birth, asked if i wanted to join him and a bunch of his friends after school the following day to go hang out. I said i needed to check with my "parents". He looked at me and said, "Umm...it's just your mom. So...you mean parENT". I was a bit shocked actually! I always felt my grandma was one of my parents. Regardless of the fact that she was my grandma and not my mom. To me it didn't matter. She was a parent to me. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

She was the one who knew all my secrets. She was the one i told i smoked back when i was 16, and she was the one who insisted she buy my cigarettes for me so i didn't get anything "funny". We shared a smoke once. I was outside smoking, when she came out of the house. She came down our steps and realized she forgotten the shed key. So she asked if i would "be a dear" and go get it for her. I set my cigarette on the step and ran into the house. When i came back out the door, there was my small 5'1" grandma with my cigarette in her hand, slowly putting it to her lips. She puffed on it, and handed it back to me. I was in shock! She was an ex-smoker, and had quit before i was born, but with this one...there was no inhaling. She breathed it in just far enough to puff the smoke back out. I said, "What was that? You didn't even inhale!" to which she replied, "Well neither do you!" I laughed and proved her wrong. She then said..."I almost miss a good smoke with my coffee". LOL!!

She was always there waiting for me after school when the bus would drop me off last...after an hour on the road. Sometimes she would have fresh chocolate chip cookies waiting for me. Sometimes she'd be standing at the door waiting for me with a big smile on her face. Sometimes she'd be in the garden picking flowers. Sometimes she would be sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. In the 12 years of school, there were only a small handful of times she wasn't there when i got home.

We lived in a trailer park, not like the crappy ones you see in movies or on TV, but a pretty nice one actually. She had a single wide when my mom and two sisters came to live with her. When i was 8, we had a grease fire, and the entire thing burned down. Without any fear, she ran into the kitchen as it started to engulf in flames. She didn't know it was a grease fire and attempted to throw water on it to put it out. She was splashed with burning grease and her arm was burned in a few places. She came running back out of the house, as my mom ran in to get their purses and car keys and to call the fire department. We ran across the drive way and it was then, i saw her cry for the first time. She stood there with her hands on her cheeks crying, listening to all of her family heirlooms explode as the fire engines waled in the distance.

After the fire was out, the EMT's had bandaged her up, and everyone safe, she went next door to our neighbor Ollie's house. I think he always had a little crush on her. He was a sweet man, sweet on my grandma. He'd always bring her little things. Like a small mince meat pie, or flowers from his garden. That day, they sat on his steps and he offered her a drink. Whiskey if i remember correctly. They sat drinking together, while he tried to cheer her up with some jokes. When he moved, as his kids insisted he go to an old folks home, i think the neighborhood was a little darker for her.

Her garden was amazing! We lived on the corner, so we had a bigger chunk of yard than most of the other folks living there. She easily had over 75 lilac bushes. All purple. In the summer she would put on her yard work clothes (a pair of black culottes and a yellow tube top) and go do weeding, plant her iris bulbs and pick bunches of lilacs for the table. The smell of lilac has always brought me back to those days of my childhood and her garden. If i have no other flowers in my wedding bouquet, i must have purple lilacs.

My grandma, holding me...wearing her yellow
tube top and black culottes, with my sisters
Kim and Raylea. I was 3 weeks old and we
were going camping!!

Christmas was the best!! She would dance around the house singing to all the old Christmas songs, as she decorated. She'd usually sit and watch us decorate the tree and then she'd put the tinsel on it. She'd spend the entire month of December baking. She'd bake cookies for days, fruit cake to send to my cousins in Cali, pound cake for us, pies, cherry tarts when i was little...you name it, she could and would bake it! Once when my mom and i were having some issues, i was probably about 13 or 14, i wrote a letter to "Santa". I was frustrated and just needed to vent, but i felt bad about venting to my grandma again. I put the letter in the mail box and went about my business. Christmas morning there was the letter i had written, in my stocking. On the back was "Santa's" response...in my grandma's handwriting. I'd give anything to have saved all the letters she wrote me over the years when i was at camp, or after i moved out.

When i was 15, my mom, grandma, sister and her boyfriend (now hubby...bless him!) and myself all piled into a minivan and drove to L.A. for my cousins wedding. My sweet grandma, on occasion would get a little blitzed. And it was always SO funny to me!! She went stumbling around the pool to go to the rest room and my sister asked me to go get her so she didn't fall in! I held her hand as we walked back to the party and she asked me what i was doing. I just smiled and told her, "Just watchin over you". She patted my hand and said, "Ok. That's nice darling". We all piled back into the minivan, along with my great aunt Phillis after the wedding and started the long drive home. My grandma and my aunty sat in the very back and talked...for over 200 miles solid. My grandma slurring her words all the way...and my poor not-quite-brother-in-law mumbling about how chatty they were! LMAO!! That trip...oh wow! I wish i had had a video camera!!

When i was 19 and found out i was pregnant, i was actually terrified to tell her. I didn't want to disappoint her. My mom insisted i wait until i was showing to tell her. But when i finally did, she wasn't disappointed, she was excited for me. And happy to have a second great-grandchild. While i was pregnant, she got very sick. I insisted she go to the doctor as she hadn't been keeping food down. She'd start coughing and then throw up. The day i went to get her for the appointment, she was sitting on the floor in her room. She told me to go to her desk and get her little book and find the paper inside. It was a 'do not resuscitate' letter, signed by witnesses and stamped. I burst into tears as i called the ambulance. We got her to the ER and i sat with her as doctors came in to see her. They seemed more concerned with the sore on her head than with what actually brought her in. She had hit her head on the car door numerous times and it had gotten infected. It was a STAPH infection that had deteriorated her skull. Her brain was literally covered up by her hair. She was admitted and we started on the path to try to get her well. She had a surgery to put a shunt into her esophagus so she could eat again, as well as 3 surgeries to repair her head. They said she had brain cancer due to the injury, liver cancer and esophagus cancer, and she had suffered a mini stroke the day i went to get her. 

After weeks in the hospital, 2 weeks in a nursing home to remain on her IV meds, we finally got her home! She seemed to be doing so much better. She was up baking again, walking with her walker, and her light had returned. But one Monday i came over and her head was bandaged up again. I asked her why. She said that her and mom didn't tell my sister or i, as they didn't want us to worry, but the plastic surgeon wanted to clean up her brain a little more. They had already removed quite a bit of damaged tissue and she was 82 years old. Why that woman didn't just leave her the hell alone was beyond me! It was almost over night when she wasn't able to talk anymore due to the meds and how much brain tissue they had removed. She was then bedridden and couldn't communicate with us. A couple weeks later, i delivered my baby, 6 weeks early. My mom came by one night to tell me that she felt my grandma was hanging on to see him.

We were in the hospital for 2 weeks before either of us could go home. The day i left, the first stop was my grandma's house. She was laying in her hospital bed in the living room. I smiled at her, kissed her cheek and handed her my new baby boy. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and brought him closer to her chest. They took a nap together. The next day my mom picked me up and we went to get a disposable camera so i could get a picture of my grandma and my baby together. By the time we got back to her house, she had passed away in her sleep, with her home health aid holding her hand.

It's funny, after 16 years, you would think i wouldn't remember as many of these details as i do. But sadly, i remember them all. I look back on it and wish i had stayed with her longer that day. Told her i loved her more. And not taken a nap when i came by with my baby. Sat with them instead.

There's not a day that goes by that i don't think about that amazing and wonderful woman who was my best friend for all those years. I still cry because i miss her. Christmas hasn't been the same since she died. And i can't seem to get any cookie recipe right without her. My mom tossed out her recipe box (I KNOW!!! I'll NEVER get over that!!) so I've had to recreate some of her recipes. Every Christmas she would make these "Mexican coffee cakes". They're really pineapple empanadas. But for 15 years, i tried and searched and tried and tried and TRIED to find a recipe that was like hers. I got close one year. But they weren't quite right and then in a move, i lost the recipe. So i had to start over. Last year, i succeeded!! After several days of cookie making disaster, gross recipes, crappy cookie press that i threw in the trash, Brooks trying to help revive them...i made those empanadas. When they came out of the oven, i put the glaze on them and waited. I tried not to get my hopes up, as everything up to that point didn't turn out like i wanted, so i was scared to try them. They smelled the same, they were much smaller than hers...almost like a cookie, but as i took the first bite, standing in between the kitchen and the living room staring at Brooks, tears ran down my cheeks! I had done it!! I found her recipe on the internet and it was EXACTLY THE SAME!!!! That was my Christmas win!! And if I'm never able to make cookies like hers, I'll at least have that recipe that i will make every year!!

We went wine tasting and i took this pic of
her playing in the vines. The pic has seen better
days, but it still resides on my fridge.

 My grandma was amazing, wonderful, and beautiful. Funny, charming and spunky. Talented, brave and bold. She was everything to me. Not because she had to be, but because she wanted to be.

Random Sunday Query

Today is a dreary day outside. It's chilly (around 60 degrees....and that's being generous), so i thought it would be a good time to blog about some stuff.

1) I finally watched The Labyrinth the other day. I've never seen it. Ok, wait...so I've seen it, but i was too little to remember any of it. So it doesn't count. But people have been yackin about it because there's talk of a sequel. So i thought...this one needs to be watched. NOW. I am a HUGE Jim Henson fan! Ever since i was small! I can remember sitting in my great grandmothers rocking chair, watching the Muppet Show and Sesame Street as a child. I once wrote Brian a letter, right after Jim's passing. I always wanted to work for the company, and was curious about what degree I would need. But i wanted to share how great i thought his fathers work was and how sorry i was to hear about his death. I think i was about 11 years old. I got a letter back! AND a photograph, not a copy, but an actual photo of Jim and Kermit. I'm sad to report that i lost it in a move due to my ex-husband saying we were out of room, so that box of "random stuff" had to go. I tried desperately to dig through it very quickly before he tossed it, as i wasn't sure specifically what was in it. Sadly...that photo and the letter Brian Henson wrote back was in that box. I've never gotten over it. Anyway...i digress...The Labrynth! AMAZING movie!!! OMG!! And can i just take a moment to say how freakin delicious David Bowie was in it?! Yes. I need to pause here. Ahhh. I always thought he was rockin a punk mullet, but after seeing the movie, i realized it's so much better!! Mullets are never good, but i figured i could let it go. It's Bowie for crying out loud! But between his two differently colored eyes (SO HOT!!) and his crazy punk hair, and his eye makeup....oh and lets not forget the codpiece, he's just...wow!! Just wow! On so many levels!!!

Delicious!

Ya know the part where he sings about the babe? "You remind me of a babe. What babe? The babe with the power. What power? The power of voodoo. Who do? You do. Do what? Remind me of the babe". My mom and i used to do that when i was little. And i had no idea where it came from! So imagine my surprise when i heard that!

After it was over, i remembered why i hadn't seen it but that one time. And i don't count that as i only remember a 1 second clip from it...perhaps part from the ballroom scene? But i think i had nightmares. Which is weird, because The Dark Crystal came out in 82' and I've watched that a million times!! The Skeksis scared the absolute bajeezus out of me! I remember running down our long hallway to the bathroom, and then running as fast as i could back, because at the very end of the hall, just past the bathroom, was my mom's room, and i was convinced that the Skeksis lived in her closet at night. But i don't remember ever having night mares of that one.

Terrifying creatures!!

Anyway...5 stars!! Awesome movie!! And if they do a sequel...they must have Bowie, or I'm not watchin it!

2) Cooking the first soup of the season today. I'm so ridiculously happy about it, I'm not even sure what to say. I've been wanting to make soup, any soup, for months!! Today is perfect because it is chilly out, and rainy, and dreary, and it's fall....and there's wine, and jammies, and my sweetie playing video games. It's nice. So i decided to try a new recipe for a chicken and rice soup. I always tend to alter recipes to my liking. For example...this recipe calls to use that simply rice, where ya boil it in a bag and then add it to the soup. No thanks. I decided I'd add a wild rice mixture to the actual soup and boil it to done-ness instead. Also, i added 2 small potatoes, extra veggies, i added corn and real garlic finely minced. It's smells amazing and the flavor is pretty great already. Did i mention i have wine? Mmmm....wine.

Mmmm....soup!

 

Wine, in my fancy crab glass!!

Got my smiley spoon too!

3) I have a question for you. My readers (I do hope you exist!! My stats page says ya do!). So in my blog, i pretty much list my blogs as i write them. But they aren't on different pages. So should i differentiate my posts onto different pages? If i posted a recipe, it would show up on a recipe page instead of the main page? I've been considering changing up my blog a bit, just because, and because things in my life have changed considerably since starting the blog, so it is probably time for a little revamp. Thoughts?

4) That's another question...would you like to see more recipes?? I LOVE to cook! And I'm a damn good cook too!! Not to toot my own horn, but because I've been told by a lot of people, and I'm always making new things. I've learned that life is too short to hoard your recipes, so I've finally gotten to a point where i will share them if I'm asked, but then i come across a good one and want to share with people even if they don't ask. So...recipe postings? Yes? No?

5)  I tried to watch Annie Hall last night. Let's just say...I'm not a Woody Allen fan, for many reasons, but he really annoys the ever living crap out of me. But i made it an hour before i turned it off. I needed a break. At the one hour mark, where he's in bed with his girlfriend Annie, after he slept with some other woman just an hour before, it made me sick. Like i thought i was going to be sick. And perhaps jump through my TV screen to strangle the ever living crap out of Woody Allen! WTF?! Ugh. Sooo...i haven't finished it. I'll get there. Perhaps tomorrow. It's considered a classic, so it was on my Netflix list. I'll be happy when i can delete it off of my list. *sigh*

Ok, so i guess that's it for today. Hope y'all have enjoyed your weekend!!

PS: The soup turned out FANTASTIC and was so wonderful!! Depending on the amount of people who would like to see more recipes, depends on if I'll post it. It's a great recipe though!! :)

It's Just a Number, Right?

Should the numbers on a scale, or a BMI index dictate what we are really like? Like how happy we are, or if we are a good person? Should it dictate what we do with our lives? Or perhaps who we should go out with or marry? Seems to be a ridiculous thought right? Then why do so many people let those stupid numbers do that to their lives? Society says that if we are overweight, we are unhappy because of that person who didn't want to date us when we're heavy. Society makes the need to be skinny important, when it really should be about how healthy we are. There are plenty of men and women who are just bigger people. Big boned, or genetics. Whatever it is, they will never be on GQ's cover.

I've never been what normal people would consider "fat". However, I've never been what society deems an "ideal girl". I'm not skinny, nor have i ever been. I've always had a bit of junk in my trunk and been short. According to an ideal weight scale, i am right in between overweight and obese. Now, i know I'm not obese, but the scale says that if i gained 2 more pounds i would be, so is it wrong? I mean, i don't weigh 110 pounds, which is what i should weigh according to this to ideal scale...good lord! People would think i had an eating disorder if i weighed 110 pounds! No offense to people who do weigh that much, but for me...i don't think that would be a good look.

I've decided that i want to eat healthier. I've gained some weight in recent months, and I'm just done. I can't handle one more gained pound!! But it's for me. Not because of my BMI number and despite what those numbers on the scale read, i am happy. But I've always kind of struggled with my weight. Maybe "struggled" isn't the right word. It's not like i was always dieting, but i guess i gained and lost for a lot of years. I never got much higher than my "comfort" weight. And my comfort weight never really bothered me. It wasn't terrible. And it didn't show. It was always nice when i would open up to a friend (ok, so it was one friend. One time. I never talk about how much i weigh in respect to actual numbers), and she looked at me and said, "REALLY?! WHERE?!" I admit, i think most of my weight is in my ass, and I'm ok with that, but now it's oozing to other parts of my body and I'm certainly not ok with THAT. Plus my favorite clothes don't fit as well or at all anymore, and I'm DEFINITELY  not ok with that either!! This awakening occurred recently as we have a beach trip coming up in about 10 days. While i know that I'm not going to loose enough in 10 days to look like i want to in a bathing suite, ya gotta start somewhere.

Ok, so back to my ass....i don't want to generalize, but on the west coast, guys seemed much more into boobs than asses. They didn't seem to like the fact that i had a butt and didn't have gigantic boobs. It was always, "Can't you loose some weight? Your ass is huge!", "Too bad you can't move some of that from your ass to your breasts" or similar commentary. Nice for a girls self esteem i must say. And i always hated the fact i had a bubbly butt. Until i moved to the south. God bless southern men! I just have to say!! Since moving here, I never dated or was friends with a guy who didn't like my ass, and would compliment it often! The jeans i buy do help with the decor of it...i like cool pockets, because if they're looking at my ass anyway, a fun pocket might as well compliment it. Enter Brooks 2 1/2 years ago. There isn't a day that goes by where he doesn't slap my butt. And i know...this is a weird thing to talk about, but honestly, it's always been a boost for me. Because i spent the first 30 years of my life being told that it was too big, to loose weight to shrink it, or some other degrading thing about it. But (no pun intended) it's part of my body. And actually, probably the part of my body that I like the most. It's not flabby, nor overly firm, it doesn't jiggle all over the place...just enough, looks fantastic in a pair of jeans or leggings, and gives my waist definition (when i am at a normal weight). It's what Sir Mix A Lot would call a "juicy double". Lol! This isn't my own opinion, but I've been told.

I started these changes this past Monday. I decided to limit my junk food for one. I love my junk food! Cookies, Cheetos, chips, ice cream...you name it! But that's part of the problem. I can't exist on crap anymore. Apparently I'm too old to eat like i am 20 still, and my metabolism, while it kicked up a notch when i turned 30 for a few years, it's taken a down turn. I also cut out simple carbs, like pasta and bread...two big weaknesses for me. Also, limiting the amount of sugary items, as well as processed foods and some gluten. However, i haven't given up my beer yet...that'll come later. One thing at a time.

The last 15 pounds that I've gained are from this past February. We went through some ...we'll call it "stuff", and fell into a pretty dark depression for several months. I could barely get off the couch and turned to my new BFF, Ben & Jerry's for about a week. I lived in my sweats, and at the time, could barely get up long enough to shower twice a week. It was bad. But that's where those pounds came from. And now, now that I've gotten past it, and dealt with it, I'm struggling with those pounds gained. They got to go!! 

I need more veggies in my life. And i love veggies!! When i was single and lived alone, i would roast veggies for dinner. That was it. I didn't need a piece of meat on my plate too. I was good with just the veggies. But Brooks isn't what i would call a veggie lover. He hates tomatoes, onions that are cut too big, cooked carrots are a rare thing, he likes corn, but won't eat corn pudding or corn chowder, he hates zucchini, squash, brussel sprouts, mixed veggies, peas....his list is pretty long on what he doesn't like. His go-to veggies are green beans (i swear, if he cooked more, we'd have them with everything!) asparagus, broccoli on occasion and corn. He'll eat a "salad" but salads in the south are different. It's mainly lettuce and maybe a grate of carrot here and there. Plus dressing.

I'm from Oregon, so i know veggies and salads, and meals centered around produce. When i make salads at home i make them with red leaf lettuce or romaine (NEVER iceberg!!), hard boiled egg, edamame,, carrots, pumpkin seeds, tomatoes, zucchini or squash, cauliflower, cucumber on occasion, avocado, and any other veggie that i might have around. When i make a salad, i don't play. But then, salads like these were pretty standard back home when you went out to eat. Damn near anywhere that wasn't a big chain, had amazing salads!!

Anyway, so eating better is my top priority. Two days down, and so far, it's gone well. Monday i made baked chicken, and i had half a sweet potato and sauteed brussel sprouts. On Brooks' plate, he had his chicken along side parmesan noodles and of course...green beans. Last night i tried 2 new recipes. I made a stuffed "flank" steak, Italian "Swiss Chard", and my edamame succotash. A SUPER heavy veggie meal. And to my shock and aww, Brooks actually liked it! I'll say it again...he LIKED the "Swiss Chard"!!!! WHAT?! You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said he'd eat it again!! I waited until he told me he did like it, to tell him i made it with kale instead of the Swiss chard. It was cheaper. But SOOOOO good!! Omg! I'm excited to make it again! Super tasty!! The stuffed "flank" steak i made with a top round steak instead of the flank, as the flanks i found were just to spendy for one meal this week. But it turned out great!!

There's a weird following of folks out there who think that kale is gross. But just like brussel sprouts, and any other veggie...it all depends on how it's cooked! Check out one of my very favorite comedians Jim Gaffigan and his take on what he calls the "kale propaganda". Too funny! Sorry Jim, but i actually like kale. And collards too...and sauteed spinach! It's all in the way ya cook it!

Part of my new "awakening" is to also exercise on a regular basis again. Once upon a time i was what you'd call a 'gym rat'. And during that time, while i wasn't ripped by any means, i looked good! I had gotten down to a number that i hadn't seen since high school!! I joined this awesome gym back in Eugene. It was close to home, and had separate workout rooms (which was AWESOME) for men and women. I got to the point where I'd kinda live there. I'd go 7 days a week for 90 minutes or more. I'd do a warm up on the elliptical, hit the weights, and then a cool-down. I found that I'm the type of person who has to work out daily or i won't do it. Like that "one day off" will turn into...lets see now...5 years off. 5 YEARS!!!! Ugh.

I've started walking. Or trying to, every other day. While it's not as much as I'd like to be doing, it's a start. Monday i got my workout gear on and took to the street. Oh wait...that sounds bad. Not like that, but in an exercise kind of way. A half mile from our apartment there's a park with a kickball field, and a dirt track that wraps around it. It also has some bars for chin ups, dips, and leg presses, among other items that I'm not really sure what they're for. 3.7 laps is 1 mile. So i walked down there, did 4 laps and some step-ups on a bench as well as some inclined push ups and walked home. On the way home, i seriously felt like shit. I think i did a bit much considering where I'm at physically right now. Perhaps my pace was more than it should have been? I don't know. But i made it home...despite the times i wanted to sit on the sidewalk and take a nap. Yesterday i felt it. I can still feel it. My knees are killing me, and I'm still struggling a little with my hip (I've been having some pain in my hips for the past few months...could be the weight gain, could be arthritis, maybe both. I'm not really sure). So right now, I'm trying the every other day thing, until i can get back into a little better shape to go everyday.

After writing most of this i went for my walk. I tried finding a new place to go, as i tend to get bored with the same scenery, and since it's a new town, i figured it would be good to explore. So i drove to this little park my friend Ginny showed me. It has a carousel and rides for kids as well as a playground. Sadly, there weren't any walking trails. So i went back to my regular place. Walked the track. Attempted to do some inclined push ups, but my shoulder wasn't having it. I did extra step-ups though, so that's something. But around the second lap in, i saw them. Two young skinny girls. Probably all of 18. Walking, giggling, and pausing to take selfies. Hung upside down on some bars...more selfies. I passed them as they were taking some more by the monkey bars, to do the first round of step-ups. I heard them laugh as they walked by. I didn't pay much attention to it, and went about my biz. But after i was done i wasn't far behind them. This is where it got ugly. As they strolled they continued their giggling and at one point the blond girl looked back at me laughing and then stumbled into her friend as her head whipped back around. Were they laughing at me? Why? Because i wasn't stopping ever 10 feet to take selfies, or because i was there to actually work out and get into shape? It made me feel badly about myself. And perhaps it's all a misunderstanding. But as I've been carrying around extra weight, I've noticed something. I feel like everywhere i go, i keep thinking people are staring at me. Like they have nothing else better to do? I know right! But I've become very uncomfortable in my own skin lately. It sucks. Not that I've ever had a great amount of self esteem or anything, but it was a lot better a couple years ago than it is now.

I guess i just need to remember why i want to do this overhaul. Not for some skinny bitches at the park, to fit into societies "skinny girl" expectation, or for the numbers on the ideal weight chart to match what i actually weigh. But, for me.

Marsh-Pillow Maurice

Last February we went pillow shopping. We were in dire need of new pillows. So off we went to Bed Bath & Beyond. We got 4 for the bed and one body pillow. Something I've always wanted, but had never coughed up the money for, but since we had a coupon, we went for it.

When we got home, we went to the bedroom to pop the new pillows into the cases and see how they were. Sadly, i ripped off all the tags before we tested them out. They weren't great. They were terrible actually. From now on, we'll save some money and buy pillows at Walmart or Target. But the body pillow was fabulous!!

I have terrible pain in both hips. It could be arthritis, but it could be something else. I don't know at this point because...well I'm a little afraid of going to see someone about it. I really don't want surgery...and i know that's probably worst case scenario, but still. But i may have to if it gets much worse. It feels like they need to pop but won't. I used to be able to pop my hips, but for some reason i can't now. So sleeping is difficult. Some nights the pain in my left hip wakes me up and since i like sleeping on my left side, it's been an issue. But the body pillow has helped a bit with sleep, which I'm very thankful for.

About a month ago, i decided my dear pillow needed a name. I mean, the TV, recliner, couch and our plants all have names. Why not my pillow? So if y'all know me, you know that i watch a lot of TV while i work on my Etsy wares. And with that, I've watched 9 seasons of How I Met Your Mother. Twice. I'm hoping this doesn't fall on deaf ears, but you know if you've watched enough of it, that Lily had a big body pillow that she would use when Marshal was out of town. Of course she put one of Marshall's shirts on it, but i just have a pillow case on mine...I'm not quite that bad. Lol. She called it Marsh-Pillow. So i stole it and added Maurice. I don't really know where Maurice came from...it just kind of happened and then it stuck.

So by now, y'all are thinkin I'm crazy. Well hold on...it gets better!!

In the time I've had Marsh-Pillow Maurice, Brooks has made his disdain for my pillow known. He really hates him. I've seen him fling Marsh-Pillow Maurice off the bed onto the floor. He says he takes up way too much of the bed (even though Marsh-Pillow Maurice is ALWAYS on MY side of the bed), and because of my pillow, he can't snuggle with me very well.

Last night after a couple beers, this was the conversation we had...
Me: My hips hurt really bad! I can't sit the way i like to anymore and sleeping is an issue. I may need to go into the doc soon if it doesn't get any better. Not sure what else to do.
Brooks: I'm sorry love (sad face).
Me: At least Marsh-Pillow Maurice helps a bit. Which by the way...he told me some stuff about you the other day.
Brooks: What?? (insert strange look on his face here)
Me: Oh yes! He talks ya know!! Ya might want to be careful of what you say to him, ya big meany!!
Brooks: I don't say mean things to him. 
Me: Oh yes ya do! When I'm not around you are mean to him.
Brooks: You're always around! How is that possible??
Me: No. Not always. Like last night when i was brushing my teeth and you were in bed already. Apparently you told him how much you hate him and told him that you were gonna cut him open and spread his stuffing around the yard. But then i walked in and interrupted your sinister plan!!
Brooks: (Hysterical laughing) I never said that! I wouldn't spread his stuffing around the yard! (More laughing)
Me: But you would cut him open!! SEE!! Ya big meany!! Poor Marsh-Pillow Maurice!! He didn't do anything to you, but YOOOOOU wish bad things to happen to him!
Brooks: (Still laughing...almost to the point of tears) No i don't!! I'm not mean.
Me: Ya hu!! You fling him off the bed all the time!
Brooks: That happened one time and i didn't mean to. It's his own fault for being so floppy!
Me: Well he's not happy with you. Terrified for his stuffed life now thanks to you!
Brooks: What the hell was in that beer?? (still laughing)

At least we keep ourselves entertained!!

My Darkest Hour; My Own Battle with Depression

Last night it was about 8pm when i saw the news. I had gotten on Facebook for a minute. It was like the internet had broken. Everything i saw, post after post after post, was about Robin Williams' death. I was in shock. I couldn't breathe. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I clicked the first link i saw from ABC News. There it was. The headline i never wanted to read: "Robin Williams Found Dead in Possible Suicide". The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my eyes welled with tears.

For me it was more than loosing a beloved and talented actor. It hit close to home. I had found out some years ago that he dealt with depression and i hoped it would never come to this, as i knew too well what depression was like and how much it really hurts a person. I have been dealing with my own for more than 20 years. Anyone who has dealt with it in their life, whether a loved one or in their own personal battle, probably felt the same.

I tend to not discuss my own battle, as it was the darkest time in my life and took me a long time to deal with it and find a happy place to be. I've been doing well for a long time now, so i almost forget that i have it. But depression is similar to an addiction. Once you have it, you will always have it, even as you recover. You are in constant recovery. It takes a lot to get to a point where you don't think about it each day. Where you don't worry you may slip and wind up back at the bottom again. Each day is a constant struggle to be happy like everyone around you. Some people who deal with it are wonderful at playing pretend. They pretend they're fine and happy when they're around others because if they talk about it, they are afraid of what the other person may say. Will they place blame? Will they shame? Will they just not get it? Or will they just ignore it?

Depression seems to be one of those things that people don't like talking about. Myself included. But instead of putting our heads in the sand, and just saying that this tragedy is really sad, lets find an outlet. Lets talk about it. I'll go first. Here's my own story...
 
When i was in junior high, things in my life were rough. Rough in the sense of bullying at school, bad grades, mom always upset i wasn't doing better, boys and girls teasing me for anything from the size of my blue eyes, to my long hair, to questions i asked in classes...to say i was picked on is a bit of an understatement. I was once put in a headlock by an older boy, who had a locker next to mine, for opening my locker to get my science book. Anytime i told my mom anything about what was actually going on, she would say, "Tell them, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!". I didn't have the courage to tell her that was a bogus lie and that words are way worse than any rock or stone that could be thrown. Wounds heal, but words leave lasting scars. So i stopped talking about it and telling her about what was really going on in my day. I should say, it's not like it was every single day....but as an adult, i have managed to block out those 3 years for the most part. I don't discuss it. Ever. And this post is no exception. However, this is where it started. The depression. Though being 13 years old, i didn't know it was depression. I had made a comment to my small group of friends at some point (i really can't recall the conversation or the circumstance...like i said, i blocked a lot of it out) that i was going to commit suicide. Life sucked so what was the point. I didn't actually mean it, but a day or so later i found myself sitting in the school counselors office talking about it. I was embarrassed, and denied ever saying it. I was also mad at my friends for "tattling" on me like that. Why not just talk to me instead?

Once in high school the bullying got better for a while. Too many fish i suppose. Or more fish and i was no longer much of a target. Then tragedy hit. My oldest sister had been in a car accident and died. I was 16. It was the first time anyone really close to me had died. I fell off the deep end. The good side was that i didn't turn to drugs, as if i had, it would have made it so much worse. But i started partying. I was drinking a lot on the weekends when i'd tell my mom i was staying at a friends house. This went on for the better part of 2 years.

Once when i was 17, i had a terribly abusive boyfriend who i had run away from home to be with. He tried to drown me in his mothers bathtub. If she hadn't of come home when she did, he would have succeeded. I couldn't leave him...he wouldn't let me, so i tried taking pills. I took 20 Advil one night hoping i wouldn't wake up the next day. But i did, and managed several weeks later to get away from him and went home. 

Then i met my ex-husband and had a baby at 19. I had an emergency c-section 6 weeks before my due date. During my pregnancy my grandma and very best friend, was very sick with 3 kinds of cancer and a brain tumor. She was dying. The circumstances of my pregnancy weren't the best, and it felt like i wasn't really able to enjoy it. Looking back i wasn't. My ex's family was very negative about it and then my poor grandma was so sick. When i delivered my son, he spent 2 weeks in the NICU and i was back in the hospital after 2 days of being out, with a terrible infection in my cesarean wound. We were both finally released and our first stop was my grandma's house. She had a home-care nurse so she could be home where she belonged. I gave her my new baby to hold. She wasn't able to communicate by that point so when she took him from me, she looked at him and then looked back at me, tears filling her eyes. They took a nap together. The next day she passed away.

After that the depression became more apparent. It was a daily thing. I was also dealing with postpartum in a big way. I got to such a dark place around that time, looking back on it, I'm a little stunned.

I've not talked about this in such detail, with anyone besides a therapist until now...

When my baby was about 2 months old, i was driving back from the grocery store. I was so sad and angry. I was miserable. It was hard to breathe. It was like i was in a horribly dark tunnel and there wasn't one speck of light in it. I was alone. I couldn't talk to anyone about any of what i was feeling. I would be shamed and looked down upon. I tried at one point to talk to my ex. I told him i was sad and having a hard time. He yelled at me and told me to "grow the fuck up". Though he wasn't physically abusive at that time, he was controlling and emotionally abusive. Driving along the road, I took a curve a little faster than i normally did along this old highway. I saw a big tree. The only thing that stopped me from pushing down the gas was the tiny person in my backseat. I decided that I'd wait. I couldn't do that with him in the car. I'd try to go to the store alone and be done. But it never happened. I was with him constantly. I had no help from the ex. He'd come home, look at our son, perhaps hold him for 5 minutes and put him back in his bassinet. All the diapers, all the feedings, all the late nights was all on me. And me alone.

A few weeks later, i was in the shower. The few minutes each day when i wasn't being yelled at by my ex for something (dinner wasn't what he wanted, i was wearing the wrong thing, i was watching a movie he didn't want to watch, my hair was in a pony tail...the list was long. And constant), or being puked on by my baby. I was alone. I picked up my razor and gave it a long look. I pointed it down towards my wrist and waited a second. My time had come. And i was done. I took a deep breath, but then, just like clockwork, my son let out a cry. I put the razor down, got dried off and went to tend to him.

I finally decided to talk to my doctor about this. I was scared. I wasn't sure if they locked people away in looney bins anymore, but i didn't want to be there. He prescribed an antidepressant and suggested i talk to a counselor or therapist. The drugs seemed to help a bit. He increased the dosage twice which helped me out of the dark tunnel for a while.

Several years, a divorce, custody battle, and job issues later I had dealt with the darkness for so long and just pushed it down and pretended i was fine in the company of others. But i wasn't really dealing with any of it. The new boyfriend told me he wanted me to go see a therapist to try to deal with my sisters death. I never had, but agreed that i should. I made some calls.

A couple weeks later i found myself sitting in the office of an adorable Swedish woman. I can't for the life of me remember her name, but she was caring, and sweet. She wanted to help. It took me a couple sessions to finally open up like i had always needed to. When i told her my stories, she looked horrified, but remained composed. Each week was different. Some days i would be in tears, other days i'd laugh through the pain. She encouraged me not to hide my feelings and to be with them. If i was angry, sad, happy, etc., to be with each feeling as they came. Not to push or pretend them away. I was also on a new antidepressant. But with the new one, i just wasn't ME. I was a shell of who i had been. And i felt it. I tried a couple others before weaning myself off of them altogether (***Always seek the advice of your doctor before discontinuing any medications***).

A few years later i went through a pretty big breakup, moved into my own place, poured myself into my new job and didn't think about my depression. Until i was laid off. It hit me in a wave, but this time felt different. I knew how to handle things and keep going. I wouldn't allow myself to get into a dark state again. And i wouldn't go back on meds.

It's been a long road, with a lot of days where i think about the depression as it comes. I know that at any point it could come back and bring me into that dark tunnel again. Over the last few years I've seen two other therapists when I've needed to. I talk to my friends when things seem overwhelming. I've sought help when I've needed it. But i do talk about what's going on. I know that the worst thing a person can do who is battling with depression is to NOT talk about things, ignore it or think it'll go away. Because it won't.  

I've read a lot of posts, links and news today about Robin Williams' death. I've read all too many comments from people saying that they've lost all respect for him. That he is selfish and took the cowards way out. To those people i say this: Until YOU deal and battle depression and the darkest time in your life for several long and painful years in a row, you will never know just how hard it can be! You have never dealt with depression like Williams or so many others who took their lives as well. Suicide is a choice, yes, but it's not one that's easy. Do not talk about things you truly don't understand. Mental illnesses aren't simple and can't be cured with a walk in the park and some vitamin D.

I don't feel depressed nowadays. I'm happy and with a man who treats me well and is there for me no matter what. As the late Robin Williams has said, "I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone, it's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone". It's true. I lived that, long ago. Thankfully I'm not in that dark place anymore. But so many people are. And they're all around us. Take time to reach out to someone who may need it. Know someone who's been having a tough time? Pick up the phone and call them. Just to chat. Or send them an email or message on Facebook. You never know how your small act of kindness can affect someone who so desperately needs it.

If you, or someone you know is dealing with depression, please seek help!! The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is there for anyone in need. Here is their website: http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  You can also call toll-free: 1-800-273-8255. They are there to help anytime, day or night, 365 days a year. Just pick up the phone.

The Hairy Situation....Part Deux

Ok, so as of tomorrow it will be May 1. Today marks one week until my 35th birthday. *Le sigh*. I won't talk about that mess. Each day I feel different about it. So today i will talk about the hair.

The last time i talked about my hair it was December. I was HATING it. And to be clear, i still don't love it. But i guess it's better now than it was 5 months ago. And I've actually cleared up all my hives, which is awesome! Remember that my doc diagnosed me with stress induced hives or chronic urticaria. He suggested that school was causing me a lot of unneeded stress. As much as i thought otherwise, he was correct. A couple months ago i found out that i can't borrow any more funds to finish school (nice), so I'm done. Mid degree, but i don't have the ability financially to pursue it any longer. While i was really upset about it, it's actually a good thing for me. I feel so....free! It's wonderful! Slightly bored while i look for work with a half of a degree, but all in all, i feel good. And with that, my urticaria has also cleared up! WHOO HOOO!!!!

So that means i can call Adam any day now and have him work his wondrous magic and chop off this mess and put me into something chic that i love! So why haven't i? Thought this is what i wanted? Right? I mean come on! I've been bitching about my stupid hair for over a year now! WHY IS IT STILL LONG?!  Good question. I don't know. For real. Maybe because it's taken me a year and a half to even kinda like my hair, and if i cut it now, would i ever try to grow it out again? Cutting it would be giving up, and throwing in the towel. Or maybe because it'll cost a bit to keep up with it once i cut it again, and to do that, I'd really like to have my own income again. When it was short, i had to get it cut every 3 months like clock work. I haven't seen Adam since December. Or because I don't have to wash it or style my hair every day, but every other day. Which is kinda nice. Also i use very little product nowadays. But the down side is that for it to actually look decent and me to wear it down, and not in a pony tail, which doesn't happen that often because it's a HUGE hassle, i have to straighten it. Otherwise it curls in one direction on one side of my face, and in the opposite direction on the other side, and don't even get me started with what it does in the back.

Or maybe I'm still waiting for it to get super long and fabulous like those women in the Pantene commercials. But if I'm being honest...my hair will NEVER look like that. Ever. Like never ever.

Ok, so I'm not cutting it right now. I'm gonna wait. Patience isn't my strong suit so maybe this is my purposeful lesson in it. But I'm still super bored with it. The color is really...so hideous as well. It's what my hair has decided it wants to do right now. I haven't colored it in....i can't remember when, so this is the natural color. It's this sort of blah reddish brown shit that i just really hate! Years ago i realized that my hair changes color on it's own. For real. Like one day i had medium brown boring hair, and the very next day (literally) it was red in places and darker where it was medium the day before. My friend Tanya says i'm a calico. I used to color my hair for consistency purposes. Otherwise i'd have a blond spot (like a literal circle) on one side of my head, and black on another side/spot, brown somewhere else...it was super annoying! Cool i suppose if you can pull it off or if you don't care, but lets face it...that ain't me!

I bought a box of dye in January, but when i got it home, i realized it was way too dark so i took it back to exchange it, but bought vitamins instead. I keep thinking that since summer is coming, maybe lightening it up a bit would be a nice change of pace. My hair has been dark for so long. And I've always liked it dark. Naturally, it's usually very dark brown..until it decides to change it up on it's own. When it was short i used to dye it a blue/black that was super fabulous and i loved it!! But since my hair is in a natural state right now, and much lighter than the blue/black, perhaps it's time for something light and fun.


Here's a pic from a couple weeks ago...

See...blah reddish something or other. I don't like it.

Perhaps a small change is in order. 35 should be fun and i should feel good about myself right? Isn't that the way birthday's are supposed to be? Yes. I agree. A change is comin!

The Hairy Situation...

Oh the hair saga. My close friends, well...most anyone i know really, knows that i have this love/hate relationship with my hair. And a good many of these people also know that I've had short hair for the better part of 6 years. By choice mind you. Not because anyone else loved it so much they couldn't imagine me with long hair, or because i couldn't grow it out, but because I loved it! Like full on LOVED my hair.

When i first moved to NC i was wearing it like Rhianna did for a while (granted she changes her doo several times a year). It was side swept bangs, and the very short back was spiked. And it suited me. After about a year or so, my friends here kept telling me that i needed to stop spiking it, and would ask, as they flattened it down, what it would look like without product in it. I hate it when people touch my hair. Period. It feels weird to me. Poor Brooks. He likes to sweep it out of my face and it's taken me a good year to not flinch and pull away from him when he does that.

August 2011

When i was little, my mom wouldn't let me cut my hair. I had to wait until i was 13. Yes. That's what i said. So i was never one of those little girls with cute stylish hair. Mine was just long, and i insisted on wearing it the hell out of my face, so every morning my mom would have to pull it into a pony tail and braid the tail. End of story. You could say i looked like a cartoon character with hair styled the same exact way every single day. One rare occasions she would pull half of it up and leave the rest down. Which let me just tell you..i HATED IT!!!! But it wasn't a daily or even weekly thing, so i wouldn't put up too much of a fight.

I was picked on a lot in elementary school, and one girl in particular grabbed a hold of my hair and tried to force me to kiss some gross boy behind the wall near the 4-square court. So for me, my hair caused issues and if i had been able to have short hair, she wouldn't have had anything to grab onto. At one point i could sit on it. Crystal Gale's mini-me. *Sigh*

As 2014 begins, i feel i should yack for a bit about this hair issue. I've been told to "step away from the scissors" and let it be. Lets be clear....no one cuts or trims my hair except Adam!! PERIOD!! Including, and especially ME! Adam is brilliant!! He's been the only, and i repeat, ONLY hair stylist I've EVER had who i could tell exactly what i thought and not been afraid of hurting his feelings, or scared of his reaction.

When i started growing my hair out last Christmas, he said to me, "Oh good lord why?!" Why indeed!! Even though i only see Adam every three months or more, he gets me!! I dunno. I guess i felt i needed a change. I'd had basically the same hair style for over 6 years, and i kept hearing people say things like, "What did you look like with long hair?" (go check my FB pics. I have a few on there) or "Why don't you grow it out?" (because I have to deal with it, NOT YOU!!) Ugh. I really shouldn't care what people say....but i figured, lets give it a year (if i lasted that long!) and see what happens.

December 2012
Photo credit Krol Photography at www.krols.com

March 2013

1 year anniversary, June 2013

A few months ago i brought Adam a few pics of what I'd like my hair to be styled like. He's fantastic and is a genius when it comes to my fine hair! And i think that's been the big thing with keeping it short. It looks better short. Long it becomes stringy, and just looks like total shit most of the time because it won't hold a style because it's so fine. So the short style works! And works well!!

After about a good half hour, and him drying, straightening and all that, he turns me around and says, "Well..what do we think?" I just stared in disbelief and said, "I don't like it! Omg! I look like a librarian with boring hair!!" Adam, ever patient, he says, "Ok hun...talk me through it". I proceeded to tell him how boring i thought it looked. All straight and just...BLAH!!! He then reminded me that the summer prior to this "grow out thing" i had a faux-hawk! And it was blue! And it was FUN!! Long hair isn't always super fun like my short hair was. He said i needed to keep that in mind. He then said, "I can try some things and see if we can make it a bit more fun now, or we can wait a week and see if you can live with it for a bit. OR, we can chop it off now and go back to your FUN short hair!!" I think he was hoping for the later, but i didn't want to give in quite yet. So i decided to try to live with it for a while. Back into a pony tail it went. A very tiny, stubby pony tail. 

A couple months later i went back in with some different pics. And it turned out great. Well...for grow-out hair anyway. Ugh. I really, REALLY hate it!! It's just not me. I'm uncomfortable with it. Like being uncomfortable in my own skin! Which if anyone knows how that feels...welcome to my world. And please, don't think I'm exaggerating with this. I know it sounds silly to be so upset over hair, but it's the ONE thing in my life that i have total control over (not that I'm a control nut or anything...but it's where i can have a say and it be exactly the way i need it to be).

December 2013

Well it's been a solid year. And let me just say....i STILL HATE IT!!!! OMG!!!!!! It's just not my thing. I hate how it looks most of the time so i pull it back into a pony tail and call it good. It's still short on the sides so i have to use a couple bobby pins to keep it off my neck. Which just adds to the crap look of it anyway. Just not my thing.

So I'm sure y'all are asking...."Why don't you just cut it then?! Be done with it and stop bitching!!" Yea, I'm SO with you!! Aside from wanting long hair when we get married (I'm not sure why it matters to me....) here's why i can't cut it yet...i suffer from what my doc says, are anxiety and stress induced hives (which I've started a post about...may post that one this week). And most of them are on my head. Not contagious mind you, but until i can clear up my neck and the back of my head, and NOT be stressed i can't go get it cut. I already worry that people can see them and think i have mange or something. Not the case, but it certainly doesn't help the situation. And no meds help or will clear it up. Nice. Anyway...so that's that. Stuck with this crappy hair until i can de-stress and clear up my poor skin.