the elephant in the room

144 lbs.

144 lbs?

144 lbs!

Let me walk you through the series of thoughts that went through my mind as those glaring digital numbers stared up at me from the bathroom floor this morning...
1. This has got to be a weighted scale.
2. I should have never kicked-off Sunday football with that bloody mary yesterday.
3. Am I sure I got all of the conditioner out of my hair in the shower? Perhaps there's an extra pound or two (or 12, hopefully) left in the suds.
And, finally:
4. Okay, fatso. It's official. Time to start making changes.

I've, admittedly, avoided stepping on the scale ever since I broke my ankle this summer. I justified it by telling myself that I was already depressed enough at missing out on intramural softball, the Chicago triathlon and wearing the hot new heels I purchased. I just didn't want (or need) to know the physical toll the injury was inflicting on my body. The emotional toll was more than enough for one girl to handle. So I avoided it all summer. And then all summer became all fall. And fall spilled over into the winter. And now it's nearly the end of the year and I'm 144 lbs. Gulp.

For the first time since college I've realized just how easy it is to fall into the rut of not working out. Waking up at 7am instead of 5:30am? That extra hour and a half of sleep is just dreamy. Especially when it's cold and snowy outside. (I know, I know. Surprise, surprise, right?) Running out and grabbing a grilled cheese at the Nordstrom cafe or the Chicken Salad Salad at Jimmy Johns (which, of course, is that much better with the regular dressing and croutons) for lunch? So much easier and tastier than packing a salad or veggies from home. Going straight home after getting out of work at 8pm? So much more appealing than heading to the gym.

And all that leads to one sad, sad truth: I have, officially, fallen into an unhealthy rut. And the results? Well, they don't look pretty at all.

So I've got to get back on the saddle again in 2011. (What!? Let's be honest, Christmas cookies and mom's home cooking are just too good to resist. So, I'm giving myself a two-week free pass.) P90x is sitting in my room, ready to be tackled. And I'm standing in my best friend from high-school's wedding at the end of March. Seems, to me, like the perfect combination. But since "I'm going to lose weight" seems so very cliche, especially at this time of year, I'm going to put it in the words of Knocked Up:

Alison Scott: You want me to lose weight?
Jack: No, I don't want you to lose weight!
Jill: No, uh, we can't legally ask you to do that.
Jack: We didn't say lose weight... I might say tighten.
Alison Scott:Tight?
Jack: Tighter.
Jill: Just liked toned and smaller.
Jack: Don't make everything smaller, I don't wanna generalize that way... tighter.
Jill: We don't want you to lose weight, we just want you to be healthy. You know, by eating less.
Alison Scott: OK.
Jill: We would just like it if you go home and step on the scale, and write down how much you weigh, and subtract it by like, 20.
Alison Scott: 20.
Jill: And then weigh that much.

I hear ya, Jack and Jill. I hear ya loud and clear.

125, here I come.

time out

I had the luxury this morning of heading to focus groups, starting at 10am, rather than into the office at the normal 8/8:30. And even though I spent all night and most of the morning working from home, it was nice to have a couple extra minutes to myself this morning to break out of the routine. So, I took advantage of the late start and headed over to Einstein Brothers to pick up a bagel and a cup of coffee and just sit there for a half hour or so and eat breakfast. Ahhh, it really is the little things.

And as I was enjoying my little half-hour breakfast break, the little girl next to me took a liking to me and decided to come over and say 'hi'. So, instead of using the half hour to respond to a couple emails and check a couple more items off my to-do list, I just spent it playing peek-a-boo and giving high-fives and laughing with this little girl. And you know what? Even though I was a bit further behind by the time I left breakfast, it absolutely made my day. I needed it.

It reminded me of something I've been forgetting lately; that it's so easy to get so caught up in work and all these things that seem oh, so important. It's so easy to lose sight of the fact that life, indeed, will go on even if (heaven forbid) our newest TV spot goes on air on the 11th of January instead of the 10th. Even if the client gives us feedback on Wednesday instead of Tuesday. Even if I don't respond to every single email every night. Life (my life, even) will most certainly go on.

I'm learning this more and more. Learning how to take a step back and breathe. To put the Blackberry away for a couple minutes to just enjoy cooking dinner or a birthday celebration or How I Met Your Mother. To accept the things I don't have control over and learn how to roll with the punches.

It's not the easiest lesson for a perfectionist, type-A personality like myself to embrace, but it's such an important one.

So, I'm trying. I'm getting better. But I'm definitely not all the way there yet.

wordless wednesday

Work seems to think it has a monopoly on my life these days. Hence I haven't had a whole lot of time for writing lately. Heck, I feel lucky when I find time for the little things like eating and showering and working out. And if I fit all three of those in a day? Well, that's a good day, my friend.

But as I type this, I'm sitting overlooking the beach in Santa Monica, where it's 70 and sunny, and I have work to blame (or, in this case, thank) for my being here. And even though I'll be working long hours over the next two days on set, I was able to go for a long run along the beach this morning and even sneak in lunch with an old friend. So, I guess all things considered it's not all bad all the time. As often is the case, life could be much worse. So, perhaps I should stop complaining, shut my trap and look at the bright side. Which, when it's a gorgeous day like today, isn't very hard to do.

Hmmm, can't say I have a whole lot to write about actually. I just hate that I've been so consumed with work that I haven't made time for anything else. Haven't made time for thinking really. So I had to just start typing...

I know! I'm going to borrow (unfortunately plagiarize is probably the official term for it) the idea of Wordless Wednesdays from Lyd. If anything, it'll keep from going a week without writing something (anything!) in the future.

I think the real idea behind Wordless Wednesdays is that I should take a picture or post something other than words. But, instead, I think I'm going to post other people's words when I just can't seem to find some of my own. Because I? I am a rebel who writes my own rules when it comes to blog posts. Plus, this gives me something to do with all the quotes I've gathered through the years. It makes me think they serve a purpose other than to convict me as the hoarder I am when it comes to quotes and sayings and kooky inspirational and thought-provoking stuff like that. (I know, I know. Call it sentimental. Corny. Lame. But I'm a sucker when it comes to a good set of words.)

Since I've been obsessed with Taylor Swift's new album lately, I'm honoring her as my first Wordless Wednesday "author". And while I could probably pick any number of quotes from her songs that speak so perfectly to being a teenage girl (confession: sometimes to being a 27 year old girl), I actually want to share a couple of the thoughts she shared on the inside of her most recent cd case (sorry iTunes, but Brooke bought the actual cd so I just had to go that route) about speaking up. Speaking out. Speaking now.

Real life is a funny thing, you know. In real life, saying the right thing at the right moment is beyond crucial. So crucial, in fact, that most of us start to hesitate for fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But lately what I've begun to fear more than that is letting the moment pass without saying anything.

I think most of us fear reaching the end of our life, and looking back regretting the moments we didn't speak up. When we didn't say 'I love you.' When we should've said 'I'm sorry.' When we didn't stand up for ourselves or someone who needed help.

What you say might be too much for some people. Maybe it'll come out all wrong and you'll stutter and you'll walk away embarrassed, wincing as you play it all back in your head. But I think the words you stop yourself from saying are the ones that will haunt you the longest.

So say it to them. Or say it to yourself in the mirror. Say it in a letter you'll never send or in a book millions might read someday. I think you deserve to look back on your life without a chorus of resounding voices saying 'I could've, but it's too late now.'

There is a time for silence. There is a time for waiting your turn. But if you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say, you'll know it.

I don't think you should wait. I think you should speak now.

It's so true. It's so crucial. And, yet, sometimes it's so, so hard to do.

go back to texas

Okay, emo time is over. I re-read my post from yesterday and, boy, I can be sort of depressing when you get me going, can't I? Wowser. But the good news is now that the feelings are words, the words can be, well, erased. Just like that. And we (and by we I mean I) can move on already. From now on I'll try to save that craziness (when it does creep up) for my journal, thank you very much. Because, let's face it, no one wants to be friends with Debby Downer. Nobody.

So in other less dark, less depressing, less pity party for me, more normal news: my little brother is visiting from NYC this weekend! And while this is the same brother who co-authored and co-posted a note on my door to welcome me home from a trip to Dallas that read "Go Back to Texas" (proof below*)...


... after a couple years and now a bunch of miles between us, I cannot wait for him to visit. And the very best part of this weekend is not only is he visiting me, but we're also surprising my youngest brother by showing up at his last football game of the season.

I just love surprises. And I especially love them when someone else is in on the secret. Yes, yes, I know this surprise is likely not at the "Surprise! You're Publisher's Clearing House's next million dollar winner!" level, but I'll take what I can get, when I can get it.

Now, this isn't the first surprise my brother and I have gone in on together... In retrospect, my favorite probably has to be when we decided to take over cooking dinner for my mom one night and made Macaroni and Cheese along with a surprise salad. Bet you're dying to know the surprise, eh? Dum-dum suckers (still in their wrappers, mind you) hidden among the leaves in the salad bowl. Boy, aren't we something?

You know, the impending family weekend has me feeling all nostalgic about my brothers. About my mom dressing us up in coordinated outfits to get our pictures taken at Sears portrait studio. About playing Where in the World is Carmen San Diego and Jeopardy on our old Apple 2GS all summer long. About raking leaves into huge piles just to jump in them and have to rake them up again. About getting to unwrap just one present on Christmas Eve. About going back and cheering them on on their high-school (and then college) football fields.

It sort of amazing how you can go from telling on each other because someone didn't eat all of their peas at the dinner table (true story) and yelling at them to GET OUT! of your room to calling each other up to talk through a problem or tell a joke. It's like somewhere along the line you all of a sudden realize that your siblings actually are real people with real lives and real friends and real problems... They don't only exist within your familial frame of reference. And then you make this even better realization that they're actually pretty cool people at that. People you would want to spend time with, even if you weren't forced to around the Thanksgiving dinner table.

And as we grow up, spread out, get lives of our own and get further and further from those childhood memories we were sort of forced to have to together, I feel like it's more important than ever that they're not just my brothers, but my friends.

Even if they'd still sometimes rather have me just go back to Texas.

* Okay, okay. In their defense when you flipped the note over, the backside actually said "Lol** Welcome Home!". But still.
** Again in their defense, I think this note was written just around the time LOL was actually considered a cool, legitimate term to use. If it ever really was.

the dating game

I try not to expose too much on here. Sure I'll give a sneak peak, but I tend to avoid the really big, really embarrassing, really personal things. After all, some people actually do read this (I'm still amazed they do) and there are just some things that a girl's gotta keep to herself. You know?

But lately my mind is filled to the brim with personal things. Filled up so much that there just doesn't seem to be room for the practical, productive things like remembering to call my dad back. Or order mustard on my sammie at Jimmy John's. Or write anything somewhat amusing or insightful on here. So I think I just need to make some room in the attic of my brain. And the only solution? Spring cleaning in the form of putting pen to paper (or in this case, fingers to keyboard). Because, after all, words don't ever seem quite as unmanageable as feelings and thoughts and emotions and stuff. So feel free to stop reading right now if you don't want to know me this well. (Honestly, Michael, if you want to maintain the pleasant notion that your big sister isn't actually a girl dealing with weird girlie emotions, stop.) Don't say I didn't warn you...

A couple weeks ago (after I spouted off some football stat a normal girl probably shouldn't know) one of my good friends said that she would totally date me if she were a guy. Which, I suppose, is flattering and a complement and all that jazz. But it made me realize a pretty sad truth: I don't think I would date me right now. No way. No how. Not going to happen. Just like Dr. Seuss, I wouldn't touch me with a 39 and a half foot pole.

Why not?

Because I push guys away. Good guys. Guys who ask me out on dates. Guys who pursue me. Guys who tell me I'm beautiful. Who think I'm amazing. Who bring me flowers when I've had a rough week. Who want to spend more time with me. Really good guys. I just ... push them away.

Because I'm selfish. I've gotten so used to living my life on my own that I run the risk of not knowing how to make room for someone else. Between the late nights at work. And the various intramural sports. And the girls nights out. And the times I just need to be alone for a bit. My schedule is full and I just haven't figured out how to make the time. I haven't wanted to figure it out.

Because I'm a girl who doesn't always have the ability - doesn't always have the emotional stability - to make the best decision between someone who could be right and someone who is right now.

Because I'm addicted to wanting what I can't have... And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Brutally honest, enlightening bricks. Maybe it's not about wanting what I can't have. Maybe it's really because he believes, like I do, that I'm undateable. He thinks I'm pretty great. Apparently just not. quite. good. enough. (Gulp. Sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.) He's been validating my argument.

So what am I supposed to do with all that?

I guess I just have to continue. I have to go on dates. I have to make mistakes. Some big ones. Some littler ones. But I have to do it all with the best of intentions. And I absolutely have to believe that it's all leading somewhere. Even if it's taking me along the long, scenic route.

Because when it really comes down to it, I don't want to believe I'm a total lost cause. I want to believe in love and connection and soul-mates. And I want to believe it can actually exist for me. Not just for other people. I want to share inside jokes (and my spot on the couch) with someone. To find the smell of a certain guy that makes everything seem comfortable. Makes everything seem like it's going to be alright. I want to find someone who makes me actually want to make room in my life for more than a party of one.

Because as much as I don't think I'm dateable right now. I know deep down, with all my heart, that's just got to be untrue.