2014 Anti-Bucket List

I've said this before, I'll say it again. It doesn't take a new year, a new week, or a new minute to change.  When you are ready to change, you will. 

There are so many phases of changes that a person can make.  I've made physical changes over the last six-ish years.  But the bigger change is mentally, emotionally.  This year, along with my standard list of goals, I decided to make an anti-bucket list.  

I am spending so much time figuring out who I want to be the last few months that I am so excited to see what this upcoming year has to offer.  

Things I'm not going to do in 2014:

-Allow my work to become an excuse for ignoring my health. 

-Let my thoughts sabotage my personal progress and success. 

-Make judgements on other peoples decisions.  Only observations. 

-Hold tight to relationships that are toxic. Both romantic or platonic. 

Ten Gun Salute

Ever have one of those moments when you look back on something you once did or said and you shut one eye, crinkle up your face, and physically cringe? Ohh maayyybe I shouldn't have said that. Or what in the HAIL was I thinking when I did that?

Yeah, me too.

In an attempt to broaden my horizons and meet new people after moving back to Missouri, I signed up for match.com.  I went back and forth on this topic with my friends many times; I never really thought I was to "that" point in my life.  That point where I felt like I was so far away from the possibility of a chance run-in with Mr. Right that I had to go out and seek some one.  But then I talked to my friend Stacy (I was going to change her name for privacy purposes, but let's be serious, no one reads this anyway).  Stacy moved to a new state and after one date with a guy on match.com has been in a serious relationship for a long time among many other's I actually know who met online and have successful marriages, families lives.  So, why not.

Well, as one would imagine, you have to fill out approximately 367 questions that no one will pay attention to anyway because all the men do is look at your pictures.  Insert difficult task of picking pictures that are flattering, but not too flattering as to elevate one's love interest's expectations beyond what they are going to receive. Also, pick a picture that leaves something to be desired.  NOT ADVISED: posting scandalous pictures of one's self on a dating site.  Unless it's www.meet-a-ho.com, I suppose.

As expected, about every 11th guy seems normal.  The rest are creeper status level 5. Below is a list of the observations I found during my time on Match.com

1-If you have 25 pictures posted on your match.com profile you probably have too much time on your hands, and there is probably a reason.
2-If the only picture you have posted is you standing in front of a mirror with your shirt off, you're probably not a tool.  You're a whole Craftsman Christmas gift set.
3-If you "wink" at me and you DON'T have a picture, you're probably a creeper.
4-The words "just looking to have a good time"="just looking for a hook up."
5-If your pictures are all obviously with your most recent ex, you probably look a little desperate.
5.a.-Don't open with "Hey, I'm Mike, I just got my heart smashed so I thought I'd try this out. The tears have stopped but the pain is still there so please bare with me."
6-IF you happen to email someone that seems fairly normal, and you make the decision to give out your number.  They might send you a picture of themselves barely clothed in a bed as their opening line via text.
6.a.-Even if you ignore the creeper from #6, that will not stop him from texting you twenty five times over the next four weeks.  Some people just do not get the point.
7-Don't make your username "RicoSuave"
8-If your profile says "member since 2011" I'm bringing out the color guard and we are raising all the red flags.
9-If you select the Don't have kids button, don't post pictures of a child that is a carbon copy of you.  You're probably lying.
10-Thank god for the "No Thanks" button.

It was a Monday.

It was a Monday. August 27, 2007.

That was the day I decided to lose weight.  That was the day I got on the scale and it read 287 pounds.

I have never been a believer in the traditional new years resolution.  I don't know why really, maybe it seems a little too cliche'.   The last resolution I made was in the sixth grade that I would grow out my bangs. They were a bad result from a selfsie haircut I gave myself when I was about eight.  Man was I smart sixth grader, those things were shameful.

As I was munching down on a king sized Fudge Round (don't tell me you've never had one), I once also decided to give up chocolate for six months-that was a Thursday in May.  So you get the point, if I'm going to do something I'm going to do it for myself, 100%, not because it's the thing to do or because it's that "time of year."

All that being said, I suppose I jumped on the band wagon a little more this year than I was planning.  I promised myself I would blog more, hence this nonsensical rambling.  I also promised myself I would hit my goal weight by the end of 2013.  Given that I only have about 27 pounds to go to hit that weight, I could probably manage to put that off all year but why not start the year out right?   Why not meet the goal I set for myself on some random Monday five years ago?

I do get so excited for people who decide to try to lose weight this time of year, especially people who are in the position I was five years ago.  I look back at pictures of myself then and I had NO idea how uncomfortable I was in my own skin.  I could not tie my shoes without some serious struggle, forget walking up the steps, and even crossing your legs was a goal that seemed impossible.  You honestly don't realize that it's not so much about what you look like but more about how you feel.  Sure, buying new clothes  and having a renewed sense of self-confidence is huge; it's only after you lose the weight you realize how literally unhealthy you feel at that point.

Naturally skinny/healthy people, stop reading here.  You will never understand.

For people who are in my position it is a life long commitment   No question, there is no end point, there is no "horraay I did it."  It is a lifestyle that you have to live Every. Single. Day.  It's a choice you make between eating a whole package of Oreos for breakfast or getting your ass out of bed 10 minutes earlier so you can have an omelette.  It's that moment when you have been eating so healthy and your world comes crashing down.  (For me, it's usually because some guy hurt my feelings.)  And then I eat a cheeseburger, ok let's be serious- two cheeseburgers, a large fry, and about 10 cookies.  It feels amazing....for about 30 minutes. Then you start crashing, your body hates you.  That food is making you tired, and lazy, and has now taken over your whole day.  All the crying in the world isn't going to burn off those calories.  It's about making good decisions that are going to make you the best you can be.  Who cares about the inches and the pounds, it's about make sure you can live the happiest life possible.  Take it from me, not being able to tie your shoes makes for a really really unhappy life.

So good luck to all of you making a life change in 2013.  Good luck to me making another year of good decisions and becoming a healthier me.

And for goodness sake, good luck to all of you who plan to continue reading my blogs :)

Fast Forward Button

February 26, 2012. Almost two months to the day before my triumphant exit from what I thought was my dream job. That was the date of my last post. Needless to say, based on my updated longitude and latitude, things didn't work out as I had planned in NC. In the interest of professionalism, I'll spare the details in a forum like this. But let me just say, the place I was working might as well have been modeled after every case study that a business student reads in an Ethics course. Trust me when I say that this place was like the Twilight Zone. I couldn't even have dreamed some of the terrible things that were taking place when I arrived. So, on April 25th, 2012, I, for the first time since I was 14 years old was not employed. I spent an entire month of my life doing anything and everything I wanted to do. I made the decision some time in those 30 days that I would follow my dreams and keep going. I had not failed, I stood up for what I believed in and refused to be a part of an organization engaged in things I couldn't be proud to put my name on. I should say, the 99% of the people I was working with/getting to know in NC were fantastic, but lord help the ones who were spoiling the apple cart. So, after my 30-day sabbatical in rural NC, I had an opportunity to go back to work for an amazing former employer (more on that later) and to follow my dream of opening my own event coordinating business. The second week of May, a moving truck arrived and I packed up my life and moved back west. Positive things I took away from NC- 1-I did the scariest thing I could ever imagine. I packed up and moved across the country alone. 2-I made one of the greatest friends in the world!! My little Southern Belle from Hell ;) 3-My pride and morals 4-Two really cute puppies 5-I learned to interpret another language. I could not be happier with the direction my life is heading right now...Kansas city, I'm home.

Ode to the Limo Bus...

Well, it has been about a month since my last update and boy oh boy has a lot happened since then. Time is flying.

I got pretty settled at work and have successfully scoped out the good and bad eggs. Good news is, I really love most of the people I work with. There are only a select few with questionable morals...but if you know anything about me, I'll take care of that one way or the other. I have made two really great girl friends who I happen to work with. They have been so great and we clicked from the beginning (even if they are being paid to be friends with me). Everyday we meet promptly at 11 a.m. for lunch at Sue's Grill where they serve "fresh made yesterday chicken salad" or "left over last week chicken casserole soup." I joke that they are probably getting paid to be friends with me. My theory was developed even more a few weeks ago when, in casual conversation, "Danielle" tells me that her name is actually "Heather." I felt like I was in the twilight zone.."your name is what?"

For those of you who don't know, country clubs are generally closed on Mondays. Our club is a little different in that we are open 7 days a week; everyone works different schedules. Last week I convinced both girls to leave work at 3:30 to celebrate "Margarita Monday" (one of my better ideas, if I do say so myself). We went to a nearby Mexican place and had our first margarita by 3:45...six hours later I got home. I'll let you fill in the blanks but the moral of the story is that I have a great time here.

Danielle may possibly be a carbon copy of me, add red hair, subtract two cup sizes, mix in a dash of southern accent. She loves concerts, which is ironic considering I think in the last five years I've probably seen 30 concerts or more. Last month we went to the Miranda Lambert concert and most recently we saw Corey Smith. Blog coming soon on that experience. I might also add that the girl has immecable taste in clothing...with our powers combined we can probably rule the world!

We joke because we have had to do some pretty ridiculous things the last few weeks and I tell them they have been "hazing" me and that I'm building my HR case against them. Interestingly enough, Danielle laughs about it and Megan (HR Director) thinks it's hilarious, home girl can't catch a break. Hazing ritual number one: Danielle made me ride in the back of a 15 passenger van on my knees holding a huge pile of towels that went EVERYWHERE every time she hit a bump, and I swear she drove through a mine field on the way back. Ritual number two-someone decides that it should be ME that had to drive a HUGE paneled diesel truck clear accross the county. I nearly amputated my arm trying to run the lift on the thing, not to mention the fact that I drove over at least 2 curbs and probably killed a neighborhood cat in the mean time. I won't even mention the "Limo Bus" Danielle made me drive through "BoJangles"...we all know my feelings on BoJangles.

Moral of the story is...I'm having a great time. I laugh everyday, and I'd call that a successful story.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the update on other things going on...including new puppies!

Bo-What?

On the fifth night here I left work around 6 p.m., it was bascially dark and I was thinking about what I should have for dinner. Suddenly, I started crying so hard I could barely see the road. All I could think about was the huge empty house I was going home to. There was no one within, literally, 1000 miles I could call to have dinner with me. Again I was seraching for that panic button with no luck. I stopped at the CVS on my way home from work and bought myself a bag of mini chocolate donuts and some milk. I sat on my couch that night and ate donuts for dinner. I'm an emotional eater, we might as well get that out on the table now. If the light bulb hasn't gone on for you as to why I weighed 3-hundo at one point in my life you should just stop reading now.

I allowed myself one more night to wallow in my little pitty party and forced myself to snap out of it. I talk to Tom every night and even (by some miracle of God) got my mom to learn how to Skype. Since then, everything has been going very well. I'd say I've probably only made about 1,267 wrong turns.

Things that I don't understand about North Carolina:

1- Who in the HAIL is Bo-Jangles, and why does he have his own restaruant?
2- Why do none of the major intersections have street signs? And why do the Traffic Lights hang from what seem to be very, very unstable cords.
3- Who let the guy with the bottle of Jack Daniels plan the neighborhoods? The addresses around here are literally as follows: 765 North 18th Street Place Southest Court. What happened to 1234 Disneyland Lane?
4- Around here the best culinary delight is "shrimp and grits" and I'm still not sure I've worked up the intestinal fortitude to try those. I'll report back.
5-People actually go to nudest camps. Enough said.


Being this far away from home, and by myself so much more of the time really makes me appreciate the things and people I have in my life. Do I miss home? Absolutely, every single day. Do I miss my family? Of course. Do I think this was the wrong decision? Absolutely not. I have lived here less than 30 days and have made a couple of good friends, I've got a really great house, and I'm learing what is important in my life. I am very excited about the job and what it has to offer me over the next few years.

Stay tuned in to the next two blogs about why I moved so far away, and my trip to Charlotte.

Heads Carolina, Tails California--Part Two

Everything went fairly quickly getting packed up and half the time I struggled understanding what Albert said. He said "we's country folk"! Albert doesn't speak with an accent, he IS the accent. Through and through.

After a long series of dramatic events with my family, we eventually hit the road around 2 p.m. a 26-Foot U haul and a Honda Accord, ready to rock and roll. The plan was that the two guys would drive the U-haul, following behind me.

We went through Columbia and I appropriately honked my horn and mentally did a little MIZ just for kicks. We stopped just outside of St. Louis for gas and to get a little snack. Inside the gas station the clerk said "are you all from the south??" Albert's response: "WE SHOW-ah IS." Now comes the questions I started asking myself as I'm and about 4.5 hours in to this 17 hour long trip:

-How do you turn a 1 syllable word in to a 5 syllable word?
-How on Earth will I avoid coming home with a southern accent?
-Please don't let us break down in East St. Louis.

The first night we stopped somewhere in a remote city in Illinois for the night. I went in ahead of the guys and told the woman behind the desk that I needed two rooms. She said that they only had two King Suites available. I said that would have to do cause I certainly wasn't driving another 2 hours to the next major town. Fifty-six year old Albert comes in as I begin filling out the paper work and she says to him..."Well, I guess I could offer you the handicapped suite." What a perfect end to a long day. Hilarious.

We hit the road early the next day and drove through Kentucky and pretty much spilled out right in to the outskirts of Nashville. I was secretly hoping to take a wrong turn and end up in Tim McGraw's front yard or breakdown right in front of the Grande Ole Opry but no such luck. Then we kept driving...and driving...and driving. Tennessee is the never-ending state and between the major cities you're driving in 5 lanes of traffic either way you're going. That was a little nerve wracking considering Josh was driving that U haul (with all of my worldly possessions)like Mario Andretti on the last turn of the Daytona 500.

When we finally made it to the east side of Tennessee (I appropriately played "Back Where I Come From") until I had to abruptly turn the music off, turn my phone off and throw it in the floor boards. I had flashback to sophomore year Driver's Ed when my teacher, Ms. Wenzel, would throw her entire body weight on that passenger side break and yell "TOO FAST, TOO FAST." Two hands on the wheel, ten and two people. Suddenly we were in the mountains, with snow, 90 degree curves, and truckers that act like they too are racing in the Daytona 500. This mountain driving went on for at least 45 minutes and I was white-knuckled, eyes on the road the whole time.

Eventually the guys ahead of me signaled to get off and we stopped for dinner. I'm pretty sure I should have just taken a Xanex by that point. I told them I was a little bit nervous on those mountain roads and glad I made it through that; they both laughed at me and said..."You ain't seen nothing yet." Turns out we were just in sort of a mountain town and we still had to go down Black Mountain a 4000 feet drop in about a matter of a quarter of a mile.

They weren't kidding...We had dinner and suddenly I was on an episode of ice road truckers. They weren't kidding, runaway trucks everywhere, it was snowing, and not to mention the road reminded me of the track for the Mamba roller coaster at World's of Fun. We finally got back on flat ground and I slowly peeled my fingers off the steering wheel.

That night I stayed in a Villa at my new Club and was set to move in the next morning. I finally fell in to bed around midnight that night.

The best part about this whole move was that instead of looking for the panic button like I thought I might be was that I was anxious and excited to get moved in and get to work.