100 Zilligrams of ACTAZIF January 31, 2008

Have you seen the new prescription drug commercial where the frumpy, middle-aged woman marches out the front door of her home, down to the local shopping center, gets herself a sexy new outfit and a makeover, lands herself her dream job and after work heads to the nearest upscale restaurant where she proceeds to sit down and introduce herself to the best looking man in the place?   She glides along, smiling at each and every person she meets, just knowing that she has got it all together and life couldn’t be better……?

Neither have I.   

There is no such drug.

Now, I’m not an advocate of pill-popping, but sometimes you just need a little something to take the edge off……which is why I am writing my own prescription for 100 Zilligrams of ACTAZIF.  Taken twice daily, ACTAZIF will help me to become the person I just know I can be.  ACTAZIF is used to create false feelings of wellness and confidence in all areas of life.  With ACTAZIF I won’t have to worry about getting the job or finding the love of my life, I will just “act as if” I already have.  Side effects of ACTAZIF may include:  diarrhea (isn’t that a side effect of just about everything?), constipation, loss of friends, nervous tics and the development of a strange accent.   ACTAZIF should not be taken on an empty stomach (as if that’s ever an issue….).  Caution should be used as prolonged use of ACTAZIF may result in an actual increase in confidence.  Avoid taking ACTAZIF with other imaginary prescriptions such as ATTITUDINAL and LIBIDOMAX due to the risk of being placed in a mental institution by close friends or relatives.  

Of course my prescription ACTAZIF will be in placebo form.  I think I’ll use M&M’s….though jelly beans could work….or I could use those little Valentine’s hearts with the words on them….those are cute……..oh…or those little red cinnamon hearts……Hershey kisses are kind of big to be a pill…..maybe just the M&M’s ……yeah…..I could get some of those when I refill my prescription for DECIDETAL.

Skinny Dip January 30, 2008

Well, I took a dip in the pool last night.  Though I did not give a full presentation in front of a roomful of people, I did introduce a speaker friend of mine (in front of a roomful of people), opening and closing his new weight-loss event called Dine Off the Pounds.  An interesting concept…..bringing the dieters TO the food (well….it got me through the door!) 

The evening’s attendees (my friend calls them his “Skinnies”) were a warm and welcoming bunch.  Most of them are members of a widely recognized weight-loss program from which my friend recently resigned as leader.   They have all kept in touch, and were excited to attend this social event he organized as a motivational, weight-loss celebration/reunion. 

I did not know any of the attendees when the evening started, and was embarrassed to find out that I was one of the fattest people in the room!…(perhaps it’s time to rejoin, eh?)  I sat at my table during the dinner, conversing with two nuns, Sisters “A” and “T” (Anastasia and Telchilde).  I asked if Sister Anastasia is always introduced first, so that they do not run the risk of being known as Sisters “T & A”.  They almost beat me to the punch line (I guess I’m not as clever as I thought), blessed me, and moved on to telling me about their weight-loss challenges. 

I was surprised at what a love-fest the evening turned out to be.  These people were grateful and had great affection for their former leader.   What I heard over and over again from the “skinnies” was that the effectiveness of their leader had much to do with how he cared about their struggle and how much he believed in their ability to overcome obstacles.  They were extremely supportive of one another, encouraging and empathetic.  Cheerleaders every one.

I suppose it doesn’t matter if it’s a weight issue or career change……It made me realize that sometimes all you need is someone to believe in you when you aren’t totally able to believe in yourself.  Someone to hold  the vision for you, when you can’t see too clearly.  It’s reassuring to look up now and then from your doubt and fear to hear someone you trust say (once again), “Yep, I’m still here….and I still think it’s possible….”   

Tell somebody you believe in them.   It may be the rope they need to get over the wall.

Global Shrinkage January 29, 2008

Somebody get me Al Gore’s phone number.  I think there is an aspect to this Global Warming thing he has not addressed.  Everyone seems to be aware of the threat of rising sea levels, extreme weather events and species extinctions, but no one is talking about the effects of increasing greenhouse gases on my wardrobe.  The infrared radiation that has become trapped beneath the earth’s thermal blanket has heated up the fibers that make up my clothing, resulting in global shrinkage.  It makes perfect sense to me now.  For the past several years I have noticed that all of my clothing is slowly shrinking and I have been unable to determine the cause.  Until now!  I might as well have been putting all of my clothes in the dryer on permanent press HIGH heat!  If an increase in greenhouse gases can cause something as monumental as glacial retreat, isn’t it entirely possible that the natural fibers in my pants have followed suit?

Disturbing, yes.  But I am relieved to have finally solved the mystery.  I’m not talking about a random occurrence.  I mean to tell you that ALL of my clothes are too small!  Eureka!  I must not be the only one experiencing this alarming phenomenon!

I am not proud of this, but I think it is fair to say that I have not given this global warming issue enough attention. Other than enduring a few scorchers in summers past, I haven’t felt the “squeeze” of urgency re: this matter.  But now it has my full attention.  I will march endlessly in my bulging high-waters to bring attention to Global Shrinkage.  My zippers and I will scream until there is a resolution to this demoralizing effect. And if my wedgie can prevent future generations from suffering the same, it is my civic duty to bring it to the world’s attention.

Impersonating an Optimist January 28, 2008

I am late getting my blog out this morning.  I was unavoidably delayed…yep…. got pulled over this morning for impersonating an OPTIMIST! 

There I was, cruising along pretending I was getting my act together…..then I opened the mail.  In it were the invitations I am sending out to my “motivational presentation” on March 6th.  In one split second I ran myself right off the road.  OH, my God Gosh! (sorry mom…) In 5 weeks, 3 days, 5 hours and 50 minutes I am supposed to be standing up in front of a roomful of people talking to them about how to move past their fears toward their “best self”.  HA!  I have yet to write a single word of the presentation, and the only thing I’ve moved past is my computer on the way toward the refrigerator.   OK, Who is pushing the walls in?  And where’s my inhaler?  This was a mistake.  Who was I kidding?  They are never going to buy it.  It’s not that I see the cup half-empty…What cup!?  Hey, maybe I can team up with Britney Spears….I’ll talk about facing fears, and she can do a parenting seminar!  

In the midst of my renewed panic and hysterical state, I was able to compose myself long enough to do what I knew was necessary.  I got another bowl of ice cream and some tissues. 

Now what? 

The television was on mute when I saw a commercial for some 3-CD Christian Music set.  As I sat dazed by a brain freeze  I saw the title “What Would Jesus Do? (W.W.J.D.?) scroll by.  Well, first of all, Jesus didn’t seem to have a problem speaking in public.  Secondly, if you believe that you’re the son of God, you probably aren’t gonna suffer from low self-esteem….so I really don’t feel comfortable trying to measure up to Jesus.

Then I thought, OK…what would I do if I were being the person I want to be?  What would my best self do? (W.W.M.B.S.D.?)  First of all, I probably wouldn’t be quite so “friendly” with Friendly’s.  (The camera adds poundage and at this rate, they’re gonna need a wide-angle lens for my demo video.)  I imagine that my best self would laugh at my hysterical self (not in an unkind way), thinking of all the fun to be had with this presentation to be made in the presence of friends.  My best self would be willing to make a mistake, try something new, seeking out any and all kinds of unique experiences to share with others.  My best self would be proud of herself for trying…for getting in the game for once.

I always said I wanted to be an actor.  Now’s my chance I guess.  Time to stay in character until I become the character.  This could turn out to be the longest running one-woman show in history.

Half-Nelson January 25, 2008

I went to my son’s high school wrestling match last night.  I can assure you, I will never get used to seeing my precious (16 year old) baby’s neck twisted while his air supply is compromised in what I just learned is called the “cement mixer” move.  I sit in the bleachers, my body contorted in sympathetic writhing as his opponent sits on my son’s back, his legs (my son’s) over his shoulders (my son’s……I couldn’t picture it either until I saw it…) I hold my breath for all 3 of the 2-minute periods (providing the agony lasts that long), praying I won’t hear the “SNAP” of an arm breaking or shoulder dislocating.  I’ve even mentally rehearsed my route to the ER and the emergency family phone tree in the event of a  serious injury  (yes, I have considered medication, but the season is almost over…).  In fairness, I am sure the mothers of the sons upon whom MY son is inflicting the same are equally disturbed.  And who is this “Nelson” character?  Half-Nelson or Whole Nelson, I can’t imagine his mother would be proud….

Having said all that, I am really glad my son is wrestling.  It’s changed him.  Getting your butt kicked and surviving really does build character.  Knowing you can kick someone else’s and hold your own is mighty empowering (“holding his own” is being used as an expression here, not to be taken literally).  Now I’m not an advocate of violence by any means (unless someone is messing with your dinner plate, of course…), but I’ve seen this wrestling make my son stronger in a lot of ways.  He even wears his mat burns proudly.

So as I wrestle my way through the changes I’m making, I am definitely getting stronger. (How was that for a segue?)  Like I said, “Getting your butt kicked and surviving really does build character”.  Every time I hit the mat and face the scary thing, I emerge a little more confident.  With each new “match” I either defeat my opponent, or, more often, peel my bruised body and ego off the mat to find out that my opponent hasn’t broken me yet.  Oh, sure, my air supply has been compromised, and there are times I am ready to “SNAP”, but luckily, we haven’t had to put the emergency phone tree into effect just yet. 

My Big Idea January 24, 2008

All that was missing was the apple in my mouth.  Otherwise, I was the human rotisserie last night.  I’m surprised I can walk a straight line this morning, what with all the tossing and turning I did.  Somebody call Donny Deutcsh.  I have my Big Idea.  (For those of you who may not know, The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch is “your road map to the American Dream”.  In this 10PM weeknight show on CNBC, Donny introduces you to the latest individuals who have made billions with their “big ideas”.)

I am going to invent the “Hissy-Fit Spit”.  This contraption will be anchored to the head and footboards of one’s bed.  I’m envisioning a hammock-like enclosure that will gently turn like a rotisserie, keeping under control any hysterical flailing, at the same time saving on mattress wear and tear.  The same way a baby likes to be rocked, maybe a middle-aged woman in the midst of a huge transition should be gently rotated.  As it is, I wake up each morning with swollen eyes and an Edward Scissorhands hairdo, feeling like I’ve just gone 10 rounds with a giant octopus (and for the record, I sleep alone….blog topic for another day…).

What is it about going off to dream land that switches my brain into over-drive and my body into fight-or-fit mode?  I’ve listened to relaxation tapes and tried to “follow my breathing”.  Here’s where it leads…..”in and out………in and out…….this is good…….hey, I am breathing at the same rate as the clock is ticking……..I wonder what time it is now……………time…I’m running out of time…..oh, my God….only a few more hours and I have to wake up…….wake up?……you’d have to go to sleep first for you to “wake up”…..somewhere in the world people are getting up right now…….oh, I  hope I get to travel again one day…….so many hijackings……why don’t they call that act committed against a female a hi-jill-ing?…..if I ever got kidnapped and they put me in trunk, I saw on Oprah how I could break the tail light and stick my fingers out and wave to the car behind me for help…..that would be funny if it was some little kid who saw me waving and just waved back and never told anyone…….I should have told that lady today that she had her shirt on inside out……I would want someone to tell me…..ugh…I’ve probably worn my shirt inside out and nobody told me……oh what a jerk…..people don’t tell you things…like that time I had the hot dog stuck in my teeth and I met all those people….I was trying too hard…..smiling like a doof……doof….who says doof?…..I need to learn more words….I should be reading a vocabulary book…….maybe that would put me to sleep……..sleep?…..ugh….I wonder what time it is now…”

Sound familiar, anyone?  The stress of change can wreak havoc on one’s sleep patterns.  It might be time to seek out Insomniacs Anonymous.  The only problem is I’ve heard they hold their meetings late at night.  And I need my beauty sleep.

Hump Day January 23, 2008

 

As I sat at my computer this morning getting my bearings for the day, I thought to myself, “Well, today is hump day… Wednesday….two more days until it’s the weekend again…”  An innocent enough thought, but now that word….that awful four-letter word keeps ringing in my ear…..

“Hump”……

I have a hump!  My chiropractor insists I do not…. she insists that what jumps out at me in the mirror, and what my son and other concerned friends and family have pointed at asking, “What’s that?” is nothing more than muscular tension brought on by poor posture and stress.  But it’s a hump.  It couldn’t be more of a hump if I was an even-toed ungulate living in the desert of western Asia. 

While looking up the spelling of “ungulate” (oh, who am I kidding….I didn’t know what it meant either…) I discovered that I was wrong about the camel hump.  And now I’m even more upset about mine…  The camel’s hump does not store water.  It stores FAT!  “A mound of fat from which the animal draws sustenance when food is hard to find.”  Oh, great!…I ran out of room in my thighs, and my ass hung up a “NO VACANCY” sign, so now the fat has taken refuge in the protrusion at the base of my neck!  I’m never leaving my house again.

OK, since I’ve recently decided that I wasn’t going to worry about the superficial things so much any more (but I had forgotten all about my hump then) it’s time to put my money where my hump, I mean, mouth is.  

 

Fine.  I’ll keep doing the exercises that the chiropractor insists will help (even if they don’t).  I’ll try to stress a little less and keep my shoulders down and back.  I suppose I could try taking a little less sustenance from Little Debbie and more from my hump.  I can always grow my hair and accessorize with scarves.  My son is right.  I need to focus on what really matters in life.  This kind of stuff is nothing more than a little hump….I mean bump in the road…..but for some odd reason it makes me so mad….I could spit!

Other People January 22, 2008

I just found out that I am not the center of the universe.

Shocking!…..

It’s true that I have been fairly self-absorbed for the past 5 years, busying myself with activities such as wound-licking, self-pitying and Olympic-style worrying.  Now I am not saying that I am proud of this, I am just calling it like it is.  I am also not going to beat myself up about it either, for if I were advising a friend, I would tell them, “pain is pain”…..everyone deals with it in their own way.  I am entitled to my grief. But every now and then it’s good to get perspective…..

I looked up recently (from my mostly blessed life that, like everyone else’s, can get messy and scary at times) to see that there are more than a few people that I love who are facing some really BIG challenges.  Breast cancer…..ailing parents……prostate cancer…..brain tumors…..  It leaves me feeling somewhat ashamed and embarrassed that a broken heart and stolen self-esteem have left me stuck….sitting immobilized in this puddle of emotional mud.

The facts are: I have more friends than I deserve.  I have a family that puts up with whatever I dish out (and whoever I bring home).  I have a beautiful son (the greatest gift of my life) who laughs with me when times get tough.  From what I can gather, these are the types of things (people to be precise) that actually matter when the proverbial ca-ca hits the fan in life.  So I will take my cue from those who are in/have survived the real battles.  I do not hear them worrying about whether or not they are good enough or if they are making a good impression.  Their wrinkles don’t matter one bit to them, and the mess on the bedroom floor isn’t all that pressing.  I hear them talk about fighting no matter what the cost. I hear them talk about the people they love. 

So I can live with cellulite.  I’m pretty sure I will survive if the next person I meet doesn’t like me all that much.  And if this new career venture of mine doesn’t pan out, causing me to lose my house, my car and my dignity, I can always go and live with my parents (just kidding, Mom and Dad!…..take a deep breath……).  

If the Maureens, Maryanns, Lisas, Johns and Jakes of the world can fight straight through their fears with grace and courage, I ought to be whistling on my walk through the park.

I (need to) Have a Dream… January 21, 2008

Martin Luther King had a dream.  A dream that has been long in coming and still (sadly) not fully realized, but one that is moving clearer into view.  The vision he held was certain and without limitation, carried on the faith that his dream was absolutely obtainable.  

I don’t have a dream.  Oh sure, when I was very young I had a “dream” of being a Broadway star.  It didn’t take me long to give that up (after one particularly nightmarish performance in 11th grade!), and since I never thought it was actually possible, it would make sense that it never came to pass.  I would call that more of a “wish” than a “dream”. 

I think it’s time to get myself a dream.  I know what others dream of, but never really let myself have a bona fide dream of my own.  Maybe I thought it would be selfish to have a dream, or didn’t want to set my heart on something that would probably never come to pass.  Maybe I was just too lazy.  It seems to me, that if you’re going to dream, you have to be willing to go the distance.  You have to be willing to be scared, knocked down, ridiculed, frustrated, and vulnerable.  You’d have to believe in yourself and the outcome above all else, for that unwavering faith and belief in the dream is the alchemist that turns a mere statement into golden reality. 

The thought of believing in myself or my “dream” (whatever it is) is a scary proposition.   The thought of living a life unfulfilled is even scarier.  Dr. King’s example showed me that when you believe in something with great conviction, others believe in your dream and make it their own.  He showed me that sometimes pursuing a dream can be selfless, rather than selfish, and that when you believe and when you persist, you can change the world…..

The Blue Trail January 18, 2008

For quite a while I’ve been confused about what steps to take next, and whether or not I’m headed in the right direction in my life (Quick! Someone check the phonograph!…the record is skipping…).  I’ve been plodding along (ok…. kicking and screaming my way) on this personal development path, always questioning, wondering, doubting…never just taking a minute to enjoy the scenery along the way.

It reminds me of a hike I took once at a nearby land preserve.  My friend and I spent several hours on a beautiful day following the “blue” trail, winding our way through peaceful and picturesque woods, complete with rolling brooks, flora and fauna (flowers and animals, not the Roman Goddesses…) It occurred to me approximately 1 hour into our trek, and upon hearing my friend comment on the “third fox she’d seen all day”, that I had not taken in any of my surroundings.  I had missed the lilies of the valley, the deer, the hummingbird and the point of the hike altogether.  I had been only looking for the next Blue marker on the next tree that would confirm for me that I was still on the right path.  Mentioning this to my friend, she enlightened me,”don’t you know that the red, yellow and blue paths all bring you to the same place?  You’ll just have a different view along the way.”

I’m so afraid of getting off track (which is actually hard to do when you stand still so much of the time!) that I’m missing the “flora and fauna”.  I don’t suggest that one should wander aimlessly in the forest (though not all who wander are lost…), but maybe I could lighten up a little about my exact life coordinates.  Enjoy the sun for a minute. It’s true that some of the best restaurants I’ve dined in were off the beaten track (give me a break…you had to know I would be thinking of food after yesterday.) Major discoveries made on the way to somewhere else. 

OK.  The fact is I’m not alone.  It’s still daylight and if I scream somebody will hear me.  So I’m going to try just moving ahead a short distance without checking for markers.  I’m going to trust for one minute that even if I do get off track, I’ll end up exactly where I’m supposed to be. 

Now…who’s got the bug spray?