The MOTHER of all days

She’s my confidant, my mentor, my best friend, my mom.

Words can’t express how much she means to me!

She emulates who I want to be, how I want to carry myself, and how I want to live my life. She taught me to be kind, to laugh, how to be a friend, and to go after my dreams.

If I end up being half the woman she is, I will consider myself the luckiest girl in the world.

Today and everyday, I love you mom!

Thunder and Grandma

Golly, whoever gave you that shirt, daddio has amazing taste!

“Come on guys! Let’s go!” says Thunder with every wag of the tail

Our BEFORE “We’re almost there!” picture…

Our AFTER “We’re THERE!!” picture. Cue the yawn from momma

I am glad that I got to spend this day with the world’s universe’s greatest mom EVER! God blessed us with the perfect day for a hike. So a hike is what we did. My mom, daddio, the pup (and my little sister in spirit who wishes she could’ve been there too) hit up Kennesaw Mountain earlier today and had an absolute blast.

Thunder of course had a serious case of sensory overload. Apparently all of Kennesaw thought it was the perfect day for a hike as well because they, and their dogs, were getting their hikes on as well. Needless to say the pup went a little cray-cray with all of the smelling and licking and sniffing of his fellow pup’s bums.

By the end of our roughly four mile walk, the poor guy was pooped out (quite literally. Note to self: two poop bags are never enough!)

I couldn’t have imagined a better way to celebrate this amazing woman than spending it with the people (and animal) I love most, rehashing old memories and making new ones.

To all of the wonderful moms out there, Happy Mother’s Day!

Just a little reminder…

Just a little reminder…

At the end of each day, just before you go to bed, take about thirty seconds to look out your bedroom window at the stars–remember your place in this world and don’t you for one second let yourself get lost in it. Then, take some time to remind yourself that what you’re going through now will pass and it WILL get better; everything heals with time.

Remember that even on your darkest, most horrible of days, those days when you feel utterly and helplessly alone, underestimated, unappreciated, and unloved, remember that you’re NOT. Remember that somewhere out in this great big world, somebody loves and appreciates you oh so much, perhaps even more than you’ll ever know. Furthermore, realize that there’s at least one person out there that’s dying to meet someone just like you. Yes, you. You, even with your frizzy hair, big nose, glasses, and not-so-flat tummy. You, with your awkward smile, embarrassing laugh, and that corny sense of humor that you think that no one could ever love.

You are appreciated and wished for and brilliant, each and every one of you.

Above all else, though, take the time at least once a day to remind yourself that you’re beautiful–inside and out. Don’t let the way others judge you affect how you judge yourself; don’t let your mistakes and your past define you; and don’t let anything, ANYTHING hold you down.

Remember you are a wonderful person and you have the potential to go so very far. You are amazing just exactly how you are, flaws and all. You don’t need to every change for anyone but yourself.

Each and every one of you is worth so much more than you know..and if you ever, EVER start to forget or doubt any of that, read this again. You know it’s true; now, it’s time to embrace it.

I love you all!! <3

Gone too Soon

I was recently reminded of how precious our lives truly are. Yesterday, my dear cousin Nick who I grew up idolizing lost a very cruel battle with alcoholism; he was 34. 34! His struggles with alcohol and depression really only surfaced to friends and family within the last few months, but I, as well as many of my other family members suspect that he had been dealing with these deeper issues much longer than any of us ever even realized.

All day yesterday and during my sleepness night, I couldn’t help but ask “Is there anything that I could have done to help him?” “What if I tried to reach out to him more?” “How could I have missed the signs?” “Is there anything I could have done/said/tried to do that could have prevented this from happening?” After going over all of these shoulda/coulda/woulda’s in my head, I was instantly reminded of the countless times my friends and family tried to help me, tried to say or do anything and everything to get me from listening and acting on my eating disorder.

While alcoholism and eating disorders have their succinct differences, they come from the same beast: addiction. Even at my sickest points, those times when I tiptoed the line of living to see tomorrow, the only person that could help me, that could change me, was me. Doctors and psychologists, friends and family could give me the facts, could express their concerns and could offer words of encouragement, love and inspiration, and I believe a large part of my recovery is due to those very things, but the one thing, the only thing that propelled me into the happy and healthy place I am in today was me. I had to fight my demons. I had to face my fears. I had to overcome obstacles and hardships and relapses.

I say these things to you today because I believe that you can too. But you have to make that first step. YOU have to be the one to say enough is enough. YOU have to be the one to kick your eating disorder, your depression, your negative thoughts about yourself in the ass!

My cousin Nick was an amazing person. He was loving and funny and kind and caring. He was an all-star soccer player, knew how to play the guitar like nobody’s business and could make one mean pancake (as was seen by the Sunday morning pancake breakfasts that we had whenever we came to visit). He was so full of life up until those last few years/months when he just couldn’t deal with his burdens any longer. He got so caught up in his unhappiness, in the bottle, that he lost the will to fight anymore.

I urge you all to keep fighting! Nothing is worth risking your happiness, your goals and dreams, or your life for!

Nothing!

I love you all and want you to know that if you ever, EVER need someone to talk to, to redirect your thinking, to reassure you that you are the amazing and beautiful and incredible person that you are, I am here! No matter if you have ever suffered from an eating disorder or not, we all have our daily battles that try their hardest sometimes to throw us off course. The most important thing to remember is…

DO NOT STOP FIGHTING!

I love you, Nick, forever and always. Even though I will miss you more than words could ever express, I know that you are in a much better place. You are no longer in pain, are no longer hurting, are no longer alone, and I cannot wait until we are reunited someday. And since you never fully taught me how to play Metalica’s Fade to Black on the guitar, I’m calling the first spot in line with at least five free lessons buddy–God can just wait his turn

For the love of Peter Pan…IT’S A FOOD BABY!

Hey friends!

So…

funny story.

When I was at work today, I was asked the one most taboo-no-no-off limits-what are you thinking-have you been sniffing paint again-question. The one question that you, me and the next guy or gal must never, ever, neverevernever ask someone. Like, ever.

A woman came through my line at Tarjay, her cart full of beef jerky, apple sauce, toilet paper and duct tape. I always get a kick out of some of the combinations of items that guests purchase. There was once a man who had, and I am not joking, three 1 gallon jars of hot sauce and four giant bags of marshmallows. A new spicy take on the s’more perhaps?

This particular woman looked to be in her thirties, give or take a few years and seemed very nice. We were making small talk (“Can you believe how nice it is outside?!” “Are you going to watch the Oscars tonight? That Bradley Cooper is one fine piece of actor is I ever did see one, isn’t he?”) and everything was going along swimmingly until these words escaped her mouth…

“I hope I don’t offend you, butt…”

Now. Anytime this phrase is uttered, one can assume that nothing good can come from it. In fact, you can almost guarantee that you will be offended in some shape or form. This was no exception, however what this woman would eventually ask I never in a million bajillion years saw coming.

“I hope I don’t offend you, butt are you pregnant, miss?”

PREGNANT?!?!?!

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!

I stood there. Just stood there.

Unless I pulled a Mary Magdalene, then yup. I am sure.

At first I wasn’t sure if I heard her correctly. She didn’t just ask that question, right? Anyone who’s anyone knows NOT to ever ask that question.If anyone knows that unspoken cardinal rule, it would be a fellow woman, right?!

The woman didn’t waste a lot of time before she followed up with, “You have such a cute little belly. And you’re positively glowing!”

PREGNANT?!?!

WHAT?!?!?!

I looked at the woman and said very calmly (or as calm as I could), “No ma’am. I am not pregnant.” I could feel my face turn a shade of scarlet red, my palms started sweating and I think I may have sprouted my very first gray hair. The woman of course apologized for implying such a thing and seemed to be pretty embarrassed by the whole thing.

At that moment a Rolodex of comebacks spun through my head, things I wanted to say, should have said but probably would have gotten me fired. For example:

“Cute little belly?! It’s called a food baby, lady!”

“No, I am not pregnant. Are you?”

“Willy Nelson called. He wants his mustache back!” *Note: This lady did have the biggest, fuzziest caterpillar of an eyebrow (just one. A big ‘ol uni) that I ever did see! It was actually quite impressive

Oy.

The whole situation was pretty funny, but you know what was even more so? The fact that I didn’t allow her comment to make me feel bad. Not at all. Before, I might would have took that as a sign that I was the word that shall not be named. No. Not Voldermort, but a word that is equally as negative. The “F” word. FAT.

Sure I have a little more padding on my bones now. I have a bit more junk in the trunk and a little pudge around the middle. But you want to something else? I am strong and healthy, and am able to run and bike and swim and wrestle with my dog. I eat what I want, when I want it simply because I can. Because this body needs and wants those yummy and delicious nutrients (whether they come from Mega Stuffed Oreos–HAVE YOU SEEN THESE HEAVENLY COOKIES?! A unnecessary necessity for sure!–or green beans). And that glow? Well I think that stems from pure happiness.

I may have a food baby belly, but gosh darn it all to Reese’s Pieces, I earned that food baby belly! And you know what else…..

WHO CARES?!

Not this gal! And nor should you. Or you. Or you. We all have those days where our hair will not cooperate whatsoever even after a bottle of hair spray and our clothes fit a bit too snug. We all have our flaws (caterpillar mustache eyebrow included),  but those flaws are what makes you and you and you unique. We should embrace them, not hide them or be ashamed of them!

And we all should feel free to eat a big breakfast or lunch or dinner (or brunch or linner or lupper) and let that food baby hang out, baby! Just let it out! (Wow. That sounded better in my head but a tad weird in writing, no?)

But promise me one thing, k?

Neverevernever ask that question. Like, ever!

I hope you guys have a great rest of your night. I fully intend on planting myself on the couch with a big bowl of ice cream (after all, I am “eating for two” now) and geeking out to all three hours of Oscar mayhem! Helllloooo Bradley Cooper

Question of the day:

Have you ever been asked an equally embarrassing question? Have you ever asked an embarrassing question?

My New Year’s Wish

As we approach the end of 2012 and embark on a new year, a fresh start, a grand beginning, I have one final parting thought for all of you….

Every new year people make resolutions to change aspects of themselves they believe are negative. A majority of people revert back to how they were before and feel like failures. This year I challenge you to a new resolution. I challenge you to just be yourself.

New Years to many is the prelude to second chances, new beginnings and fresh starts. If you think about it, that is what life is all about isn’t. But why wait until December 31st of  every year’s end to challenge yourself to new experiences, opportunities and goals? In the same respect, why pressure yourself to do things that you don’t think you are ready for or even need to do?

Instead of focusing on the negatives, think of the positives; all of the exciting things, wonderful things, things that will make you happy and fulfilled in the new year to come. And once you have thought of those things, go after them! Don’t hold back! But most importantly, DO NOT feel badly if you don’t accomplish them right away or even at all.

The major lesson that I have learned this year is that when you are ready to do something, when God is ready for you do do something, you will. It took me nearly ten years of my life, 10 YEARS, to finally be “ready” to kick my roommate, my eating disorder to the curb once and for all. I struggled for so long, fought and battled and raged war on ED, often feeling defeated or even hopeless that the day when I would be healthy and happy and ED-free would ever come.

But you know what?

That day came!

It finally came!!!

2012 was a year of victory, of accomplishment, of triumph and opportunity. It was a year that I kicked some serious ED ass (pardon my French). It was a year that I finally began to live. I took off my foggy glasses, tore the chains from my hands and lifted that ginormous boulder from the top of my shoulders. It wasn’t easy by any means; in fact, it probably was one of the hardest years of my life, but it was because of that struggle, that fight and that war that I am where I am today, this December 31st, 2012 a whole new gal!

A gal who isn’t afraid to go to town on a giant burger and fries.

A gal who doesn’t stress about the size of her pants.

A gal who appreciates every waking moment for what it is, not what it could be or was.

In this thing called life, there are no definite rules; we can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of. And if by some chance you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again until you do.

Happy New Year friends!

Let’s make it great!

No, let’s make it the greatest!

Thank you to all of you, my dearest friends and family for being my rocks, my inspirations, my hope and my strength. This year wouldn’t have been what it was without all of you!!

Mayan’s Shmyans

Hey guys!

Happy Sunday Funday to you all! I hope you had an absolutely fantabulous weekend…

…as it is the last weekend you, me and the rest of the world will ever, ever have.

That is of course if you believe what the Mayan’s predicted over 5,000 years ago.

So what is all the hubub all about? According to “experts”, the people of this ancient civilization were very smart–they had knowledge and wisdom beyond their time. The Mayan calendar is actually based on advanced astronomical knowledge – the ancient Mayans studied the stars and were extremely proficient mathematicians. They constructed the calendar based off of this knowledge; it was made up of 394 year periods with a total of 13 cycles included. The significance of December 21^st, 2012 is that it marks the end of the thirteenth cycle, or, as some believe, the end of the world. How this “end” will occur they did not know for certain, but many believe that it would involve asteroids, crazy weather/climate changes and of course Hostess filling for bankruptcy, leading them to sell off all their assets including my beloved Twinkie, which was said to survive a nuclear holocaust (and confirmed by an early Y2K Family Guy episode).

Wait.

Hostess DID file for bankruptcy.

So, Twinkies, which were supposed to survive a nuclear holocaust, die 3 weeks before the end of the world?! Well played, Mayans. Well played.

I don’t believe a wink of this silly prediction. In fact, news reports claimed today that archeologists have found a new Mayan calendar that refute the world’s end in 5 days, saying now that the world will actually exist for 7,000 more years. You what that means, don’t you? Cubs fans will now be witness to 7,104 years without a World Series win.

No, I don’t believe the world will end on December 21st (how can it?! I haven’t yet invented a cure for folding fitted sheets and Zoolander 2 hasn’t come out yet) but it did get me to think a little bit…

How would I want to spend the last five days of my existence? Would I do anything differently?

Well, hypothetically speaking of course, there are maybe a few things that I would like to do.

For example, I would eat ice cream for breakfast (and lunch and maybe dinner); sprinkles, whipped cream, hot fudge, cookie dough and a cherry on top…the whole nine yards. Trying to knock off a whole bucket list in a mere 5 days would be a bit difficult to do, but you can bet your Christmas tree that  I would do everything I could to do so: skydive, visit Italy, throw out the first pitch at a Brewer’s game, learn how to finally do the Gangnam Style dance (the words included), publish my book, kiss on the Eiffel Tower and be a contestant on Wheel of Fortune (to name a few). Easy, right? I would also spend every moment I could with my closest friends, family, and dog. I would quit my job, sell the belongings and material things I don’t need and give the money to people who are not as fortunate as me, re-re-re-re-reread my favorite book (s), and finally tell that one special guy how I feel about him.

Wow.

There are really a lot of things that I want to do, so much of my life that I haven’t yet lived. You know what, just because the Mayans may have goofed on their prediction of the end of the world doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try to do these things anyway, right? As the horrible events of last week in Connecticut have shown, there is only one person, the big guy upstairs (no, not Santa, the other big guy) who knows what tomorrow will bring. Why should we hold on to these dreams, these goals, experiences and bucket list items? Why not, and go with me on this, why not start right now truly living our everydays and nights as if the world were to really end? Make the most of what we have, when we have it.

If that means quitting your job to do something you love instead, extending a helping hand to someone who needs it, spending more time with your family and friends and eating ice cream for breakfast? Well, I say GO FOR IT!

Woofta! Good thing the world isn’t ending, huh?

Have a great rest of your night everybody!

Start living. Don’t wait. Do it now!

Question of the day:

What do you think of the Mayan’s prediction?

What would you do if the world really were to end in five days?

Processing the Unbelievable

Hey guys…

I don’t get too serious very often, but today’s post warrants just that…

This Friday morning started out as any other Friday morning would for the students and staff at Newtown, Connetitcut’s Sandy Hook Elementary School. With only a mere week until Christmas vacation, everyone was in the  highest of spirits, looking forward to classroom Christmas parties, gift exchanges and of course the full two weeks of no school that were to follow. Growing up, I can remember this time of year. It truly was the best; the countdown to Christmas was in full swing; homework was winding down and teachers were often so tired, their minds already set on “break mode” that they seemed nicer and were more lenient on us candy-cane and cupcake ladened students.

As Friday afternoon rolled around, the Newtown Public School District homepage remained sprinkled with fragile snowflakes and news of end-of-semester activities. The only seemingly out-of-place note on a page largely devoted to seasonal joys was an ominously glowing exclamation point in the upper right-hand corner. Alongside it was this message: “Afternoon kindergarten is cancelled today, Dec. 14th. There will be no mid-day bus runs.”

Kindergarten was canceled, as was the daily routine of all our lives, as early relief about an apparently thwarted shooting at this elementary school unfolded into the unimaginable horror of 26  dead –  21 of them children — at this K-4 campus.

The story is all the more sickening in its cliches. Again and again, those who were interviewed said, “This is a nice town. This is a safe place. Things like this don’t happen here.”

Just like they said after Columbine, after Virginia Tech, after Aurora. After too many incidents to list, or even remember.

Again, we hear of a heavily armed and armored man dressed in black, of strict security measures supposedly in place, of stories of regular folks who vaulted into life-saving heroics.

The school’s principal and other staffer members are among those who lost their lives in this senseless and horrific shooting. Yet it’s difficult to think about anything beyond those youngest victims. Children between the ages of 5 and 10. Little kids who most certainly had “visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads” and thoughts of winter break — just one week away — pulling their attention from their studies. Children already looking forward to the day’s final bell, the signal to a weekend of holiday parties, parades and pictures with Santa.

Instead, the youngsters were abruptly wrenched from their high spirits by staff pushing them pellmell to safety, in some cases past bodies and pools of blood. Can you imagine?

I cannot even fathom.

Safety seems a relative word in the crushing aftermath of what these children witnessed — and what the parents of those dead children are suffering. Not to mention the families of the adult victims. That this happened in the midst of the holiday season only makes it all the worse.

It will be a long time before those of us who watched the story unfold — who saw the twisted horror on the faces of the escaping students and the heartbreak on the faces of their parents – will feel any kindling of holiday spirit.

For now, we just numbly ask one another: When will this end?!

Something like this makes me reflect on my own life. No one knows what each day is going to bring, do we? These staff members drinking their morning coffee on their way to work this morning, the children grabbing their book bags and lunch boxes on their way out of the door to catch their bus, none of them knew the horror of what was to enfold just a few hours later. How could they? Nobody ever thinks that something like this could happen to them, something so terrible and unthinkable and completely heart-breaking. School is supposed to be a safe place, a secure place. Yet as we have witnessed over the past few years–Columbine, Virginia Tech, the Aurora movie theater–senseless acts of violence like this continue to occur.

This hate, this complete and utter hatred has got to stop!

How any one can take their problems or issues or lack of compassion out on innocent lives boggles my mind!

It is in these circumstances that remind me of how truly precious our lives are. My heart and my prayers go to the survivors, the grieving families and to the communities affected by this horrific tragedy.
I ask that you join me tonight in saying an extra prayer.

I also ask that you say “I love you” to your friends and family, your co-workers and mailmen, your teachers and your four-legged pals. Give them a hug, a kiss, a pat on the back. Do it while you can. As often as you can.

 

 

Going with the “Flo”

Hey guys!

So I’ve got a question for ya…

Do you ever feel like you are just going with the flo?

No, not that Flo, silly billy.

Although can I just say…I NEED a pair of those slippers! And how dare that squirrel steal from that poor, poor chipmunk family. Justice indeed, Flo. Justice indeed.

Actually, the “flo” I am referring to is that certain feeling of being stuck in a rut, just kind of going through the motions of the ocean without stopping to smell the roses. WOW that was a lot of different analogies to throw at you all at once. And they all completely, 110% made sense, right?

Yikes. I am going to apologize in advance for this post and the many, many brain farts that are sure to ensue. That is part of the reason I am bringing my girl Flo into this conversation. Don’t get me wrong; I am having a blast at work and am LOVING school! In fact, I just got back my grades for two major papers, the very first major papers of my grad school career, and kicked both of their, pardon my French, asses! I was a bit shocked; I didn’t know quite what to expect, seeing as the Master’s program is a whole other ballgame from my college days. You can imagine how excited I was (there may or may not have been some serious M.C. Hammer happy dancing going on in my house, and that was just the dog).

While I love school, I think that sometimes I put too much emphasis on grades and how well I do. I had the same problem when I was in college; I was so focused on doing my best (and in my mind, “best” equaled “4.0 or bust”) that I really missed out on the whole college experience a bit. As you all know, I am a slight perfectionist.

Okay. I am a HUGE perfectionist. The biggest. And while I have come a long way from where I used to be in that area (A LOOOONNNNGGGG WAY), not putting so much pressure on myself and throwing myself a bone ever once in a while, which we should all do, I still have this inner-need to do well, to tackle it all. I like challenging myself, stretching my boundaries and knowing that at the end of the day, I accomplished all that I set out to do and then some.

What have I always preached to you guys over and over? Moderation is key. Except when it comes to ice cream and in that case, just go ahead and throw away the key because you all know you can never have too much of the cold and creamy deliciousness that is Rocky Road or Cookies and Cream.

While all of these attributes are great to have, even commendable,  they can prove to be detrimental if used to excess. Case in point: the current runt that I have fallen into. For the last few weeks, it seems like all I do is homework, work, read my text books/take notes, work, take a test, work. I realize that this time last year, I was begging for this ‘busy-ness”, this sense of doing something and being productive. And I also realize that jam-packed days and long nights come with the territory of being an employed full-time student. What I need to start realizing however that just because I am doing those things, doesn’t mean I have to let it consume my life.

I cannot just sit back and let life pass me by, gosh darn it. Instead of just going with the flow, I have to start directing it. That may mean setting a time limit for school work during the day, politely declining to cover nonscheduled shifts at work if I just don’t have the time (that is going to be a toughy for me because I HATE saying no) and calandaring in “Me” time at least once a week (sitting down to read a non-text book book, hanging out with friends, watching trashy TV, going out for ice cream, etc.).

I know I have said before how important it is to not carried away with the small things in life, the things like work, grades and money that at the end of the day, won’t mean a peanut butter covered pickle in the grand schemes of things. And I know that I have struggled to follow my own advice in doing so, but I don’t want to take for granted another missed opportunity to really enjoy life.

Let’s all pinky promise that we will stop and smell the roses as often as we can. Just maybe not the ones in Mrs. Habersham’s front yard lest you want to face the wrath of her garden hose. (I’m sorry Mrs. Habersham).

So what do you say?!

Are you with me?!

Questions of the day:

Have any of you ever been perfectionists?

Do you have a hard time balancing work/school/fun time?

What kinds of things do you like to do to chillax?

Is it me or is it a bit drafty in here?

Oy.

How many in the class have ever realized after the work day was over, school was let out or you had just gotten home from seeing friends or running errands that in the hustle and bustle of getting dressed that morning, you had forgotten just one teeny, weeny detail…

To shut the barn door.

Close the fly.

You forgot to zip up.

My hand is raising the roof as we speak.

When I was in third grade, my third grade teacher Ms. Zamzow asked me to become a part of my elementary school’s (shout out to the Maine Lions!) Book Bowl team. Book Bowl, if you aren’t quite familiar, is basically like book Jeopardy, with teams competing against each other for who knows the most about the selection of books that we were given to read. The types of questions asked varied, everything from the plot lines and character schemas to the settings, vocab and basic understanding of the themes and lessons found in each book.

Of course I jumped at the chance to participate in something as awesome as this. I mean, spending time after school–and on competition days, DURING school, just chillaxin’ with fellow booknerds like myself, reading awesome books, discussing them and then kicking other team’s booties in the process? Oh, and did I mention the plethora of pizza and ice cream sundae parties that we had as well? Book worms need our energy after all

What could be better?! Book Bowl was awesome. So awesome that I ended up competing for three years. when I was in fifth grade, my last year as a bonified Book Bowl competitor, we made it to the Regional Competition, the World Series if you will of all book competitions. My team had worked hard all year and we had finally made it! That big ‘ol Golden Book trophy was ours for the taking. It was nearing the end of the final round and the last two teams had to nominate two members to stand up and answer the last and deciding question. This was it. All that stood between my team’s trophy and Maine Lion pride (pun intended) was Shelby Voight from Lincoln Elementary. I SO had this.

Both of us stood up in front of all the other teams, our coaches and our fans (hi mom and dad), and were asked the last question: “How do we think the moral implications of The Giver would affect us today?”

Not a simple question to be sure, but I was confident in my answer. I stood up proudly, gave a riveting (to say the least) response and waited for the judge’s reaction with bated breath. I looked at Ms. Zamzow, my team, and lastly my mom and dad in the audience and couldn’t have felt more proud of what we had accomplished, no matter what the final outcome was. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that my mom was trying to say something to me, pointing in my direction. At the time, I thought she was just wishing me luck, letting me know not to worry. How I wish looking back that I paid a bit more attention.

The judges finally had the results and by a score of 29 – 25, the Maine Lions had just become the Regional Book Bowl Champs (cue the Queen song). I was on cloud nine, having just helped my team win the championship but that was to be short-lived. My mom and dad came up to me, hugs and high fives all around but then my mom quickly and quietly took me aside and said the words that sent me running for the hills, actually, the little girl’s room…

“Honey, I tried telling you earlier but your fly is open.”

Oy.

I hightailed it quicker than the road runner to the bathroom, my face comparable to the likes of Sebastian the lobster. I was so embarrassed.  It wasn’t as if my zipper was just down a notch or two or my shirt was long enough to cover up my major fashion faux pas.

Oh no. It was all of the down. The door was all of the open. And I was all of the all of the mortified. Here I was standing up in front of a gymnasium full of people, totally oblivious to the fact that my polka-dotted underroos were for all to see. I swore that after that horrifying incident, I would never, EVER forget to zip. Ever.

Yeah…I wish I could say I made good on that promise.

I don’t know what it is about zippering up that is so incredibly hard for me to do? I mean, it’s not exactly rocket science is it? And it’s not as if it takes forever and a day to accomplish, right? I should say that usually I’m pretty good about remembering to close the barn door, and on the rare occasion when I do forget, I most often quickly realize it before too much damage is done. But there are those days, days like yesterday, where I don’t.

I was on the last leg of my shift at Tarjay and had a pretty darn good day. My boss bought everyone free frappaccinos from Starbucks, I had got the credit record for the day and was even proposed to! The oh so cute little man in his Spiderman t-shirt walked right up to me, offered me his grape Ring Pop and asked if I wanted to marry him. If he had only chosen the cherry instead, I would have actually considered taking the little superhero up on his offer. All in all, it was an awesome day.

Until I was sitting in my car getting ready to leave and noticed that my darn fly was open. My first thought: crap. I forgot again? Really, Wendi?! Are you two years old?! In fact, most two-year olds I know probably know how to get dressed properly. My second thought: I worked for six hours like this. SIX HOURS! All those poor customers and my fellow coworkers had to endure my draftiness. My third thought: If all those poor customers and fellow co-workers knew, why didn’t they say something? My fourth thought? Could I have said something if I was in their Chuck Taylor shoes?

What is the proper etiquette when it comes to letting someone know that they had slipped on their zips? Had something in their teeth? Had toilet paper on their shoe?

Thinking about it, that is probably by far one of the most awkward situations you can find yourself in, even more awkward than being the one who slipped on their zips, had spinach in their teeth or had TP on their shoe. You want to let the person know about their ‘Oops’ so that they can prevent their own Book Bowl moment, but at the same time, how in the world do you go about saying something like that, especially if it involves said person’s crotch area (uhh…why were you looking in that direction in the first place?).

I would love to know your thoughts!

As for me, I have learned my lesson. I, Wendi Hansen, hereby promise to never, ever NOT forget to shut the barn door, close the fly and up my zip ever again.

I’ve got ten dollars saying I last a week.

Have a great rest of your hump day, guys!

Question of the day:

Have you ever slipped on your zips?

Do you let people know about their ‘Oops’ moments? If so, how?!

 

 

 

 

 

Butts, Books and Butterfinger Froyo

HHHHIIIIIII!!!!

Very long time, no chat. How is everybody doing?!

I am oh so sorry for disappearing on you for the past couple of weeks; life has sure thrown me a big bowl of crazy sauce, an amazing bowl, but crazy nonetheless.

I promised you a big holding-on-to-the-seat-of-your-pants reveal, and reveal I will surely do.

But first things first.

Let me just say that it is possible to break one’s butt.

Yupp. You heard me.

Breaking Bad may be one of the gnarliest shows ever (if you’ve never seen it, I highly recommend you start watching it. Like yesterday.), but Breaking Butt? Somehow I don’t think that would be as popular.

Case in point: It sucks like a vacuum and is the biggest pain in one’s rear, pun fully intended, when someone pulls their groin muscle. That someone being yours truly. This past Sunday I was doing my thang at the gym, getting my sweat on on the elliptical while catching the first match of the women’s beach volleyball sets (shout out to my girls Misty and Kerri!) when all of a sudden I heard a lovely ‘tearing’ sound come from my bum followed by the worst pain ever. I’m not sure exactly how it happened, or why, but man oh man did it hurt!

And still does. The good thing is I don’t think it is anything serious; my uncle is one of the best chiropractors around and after telling him my symptoms and restrictions on what I could and couldn’t do due to my injury, he informed me that it was probably just a tear in my groin muscle. The not so good thing is that the only prescription to get better is lots of time, ice, and not doing anything too strenuous.

Not gonna lie; the first couple of days of being a complete lazy bum were great, besides having to walk around with bags of frozen peas in my pants and taking twenty minutes to go up the stairs of course. Speaking of bags of frozen peas and other veggies: It is a great idea to use in the place of ice packs WHEN and only WHEN said frozen bags do not have a hole in them. It’s all good until the bag starts to thaw and the pea/corn/broccoli juice begins to escape from the bag, leaving you smelling like a giant salad the rest of the day. I got a lot of writing done (hint hint), read a couple of books, and was able to get caught up on Breaking Bad (again, watch this show. SO good!).

But one can only sit and do nothing for so long before they start to get a little stir crazy, especially when its soooo gosh darn nice outside. Silly injuries are all of the worst, aren’t they? You really don’t realize how much depend on your body for doing even the simplest of things until you can’t do them (ex. walking the dog, getting dressed and even sneezing). Oh well. As someone once said, shtuff happens. The thing I can takeaway I guess is to listen to your body. It really knows its, well, shutff. Don’t push your limits too hard, and give yourself time to rest and heal.

Butt…back to my good news (pun intended…sorry, I couldn’t resist)…

One: I got a job!!! I now have a reason to visit Target (or Tarjay as I like to call it) other than the super cute and inexpensive everything. I WORK THERE!! It’s just a part-time thang to help me pay for those lovely grad school books and tuition, but it’s a great job, I work with some pretty amazing people, and for the first time in a long time, I actually look forward to going to work everyday. That makes it all worth it. Plus, I’m not hating on the employee discount, ya feel me? Unfortunately the library assistant position at Georgia Southern University didn’t work out, they ran out of funding to keep the position open, but they said that when they are able to, I would be a prime candidate so it’s all good in the hood.

Two: I just checked off number two on my bucket list. Behind ‘Visiting Italy’, the second notch on my list was to write a book, a fiction novel to be precise. I have always thought that it would be THE coolest, THE greatest, THE most exciting and awesome and so totally amazing thing to have my very own book, something of my creation, my words and my thoughts for all to see shelved in libraries and bookstores across the country and even the world. I have always loved to write and I always thought that I could do it, but at the same time I never thought it would actually happen, you know what I mean?

To give you just an idea about what it’s about…here’s a little synopsis:

Eighteen year-old Paige Fullworth has a life anyone could ever wish for; loving family and friends, a bright future ahead of her and a strong sense of who she is and where she is going. At eighteen years old, she is about to begin the next chapter of her life, happier than she has ever been. That all changes however one fateful night after a tragic accident turns her whole world and everything that she has known upside down.

A Turn of the Paige is coming-of-age story about a young woman who learns about the power of love, never giving up and how a simple book can change the course of one’s life. After she tragically loses her parents in a car crash on the eve of her 18th birthday, Paige also loses her will to keep writing.  She’s afraid to go after her dreams, to turn that page and begin the next chapter of her life without them by her side. Instead of going off to Stanford like she had planned on, she decides to stay back home and take over her parent’s bookstore, the memories of her mom and dad still very real and present there. It is here where she later stumbles upon something, a tattered copy of a hand-written book with a beautiful and heart-felt inscription scrawled inside, an inscription much like the one scrawled on the inside of the gift her parents intended to give to her right before they died. For whatever reason, fate, destiny, or pure happenstance, Paige decides that she has to find out who the intended receiver of this book is, and deliver it, as well as the endearing message, to them.

Paige sets off on an adventure to reunite the book with its rightful owner but little does she know that this adventure would soon turn into more of a journey of self-discovery. With the help of her quirky best friends, a little luck and a lot of faith, Paige not only starts to finally heal from her parent’s death, but she witnesses the power of forgiveness, love and family and rediscovers her passion for writing. Funny, heartfelt, honest and sarcastic at times, A Turn of the Paige will appeal to fans of such great authors like Emily Giffin and Meg Cabot. It will take readers, especially young adults, on an adventure, a journey right along with Paige and her friends. Readers will laugh, may even cry, but they will close the final chapter of this book wanting more. More importantly, they will be reaffirmed that they can be the writers of their own destiny.

What do ya think?

I am in the stages right now of some major editing and revisions (HUGE thanks to my right-hand peeps, Jenn and Ben and Scott who have graciously agreed to give me the nitty-gritty feedback and critiques that I need and want), and have put my feelers out for some literary representation. It’s kind of scary putting myself out there, opening myself up to criticism and reviews that might not necessarily be the greatest, but at the same time, it’s so incredibly exciting. There are so many authors that I grew up reading, following, being inspired by (Blume, Rowling, Tolken and King to name just a few) and to potentially become that author to some one else? That would absolutely be a dream come true! The publishing world is very tough, but I have faith that someone somewhere will take that chance on this project, this girl with a dream. I’m hoping anyway

I will most definitely keep you updated on how things go and if I hear anything back, fingers (and toes and arms and eyes) crossed.

And finally, the last bit of great news I have to share with you: I got my froyo fo free, yo! Last night I went to TCBY with a friend and because I guessed the weight of my cup right on (10.65 ounces on the dot baby!), they gave it to moi for free-zies! The only thing better than ice cream is free ice cream. I’m feeling a little lucky again so me thinkst a repeat trip is in store for later. Who wants to come

Have a great rest of your humpday friends

Questions of the day:

Have you ever pulled your groin muscle? Any other injury that had you sidelined for a while?

Ever check off anything in your bucket list? What was it and how amazing did it feel?