The Nature of My Grave

So just like the child I truly am I have a new toy and I seem to not be able to put it down for now. Remember when you were a kid and your parents bought you a new toy and you would refuse to put it down for days. It was your greatest most favorite toy for a good while. For whatever reasons at some point you would put it down and start playing your other toys in equal amounts of time and the world would be back to normal once again. Sometimes I think that we do that with humans too. Just that we call these humans friends instead of toys. My newest shiniest toy is not so new he's actually a blast from my past. Oops did I say toy I totally meant friend nah I totally meant boy toy!
Well my newest not so new boy toy and I like to e-mail back and forth discussing our past our present and what the future well bring. At some point we discussed being 90 and having robots changing our diapers in the old people home. We discuss a lot of crazy things. We also discuss a lot of important heart touching things. Last night we were talking about secrets. The secrets we knew about each other back then. The secrets we didn't share. The secrets we still have. The new secrets we now share. At one point without being aware that we were doing it we made a vow to one another. We promised to one another that our secrets would go to the grave with us that no one would ever know. We I believe ended it in it's not in our nature it's not in our nature.
That got me to thinking. I have spilled secrets before. I have lost friends for telling things no one else was suppose to know. So I began questioning myself is it in my nature to give out secrets that are not mine to hand out. As always I began to self analyze and then become critical of self. For this seems to be my true nature.
I started from my latest blasphemous spill of a secret to as far as I could remember. I'll be honest I couldn't remember very far but I did find a pattern.
Each secret I've spilled was to save a friend from harm of self or other. Most likely then not after my divulging the secret I lost that friend. I would unfriend me too. In the end I feel that I have been a true friend by saying it then keeping it. I well not let my friends hurt themselves even if that means I well lose them.
It's okay don't worry I still won't tell secrets that I feel aren't harming anyone. Armando I for sure won't tell our little secret about when we were 16 and you gave me that lap-dance in nothing but a leather thong... oops! Oh well!

While my immediate family is a small group of people my extended family is very large. My mom has 21 brothers and sisters. Those brothers and sisters each have at least two kids. So there's tons of cousins. There's so many that we don't all know each other and we've not all met. There's so many of us that we always joke on how many of us there are. Some of the jokes can get racy sometimes. The best part is that I always get to met new people that are my family and will continue meeting new family members until I die.
Thanks to the miracle of Facebook it has become easier for the family to stay in contact and for everyone to keep in touch. The family started a family group on facebook to try to keep everyone updated on all the things going on.
As you can imagine as in any big family there's always some type of drama but we've all been able to maintain some sort of civility and most of us have opted not to let the drama between our parents and aunts and uncles come between us. So far we've all been civilized between each other. Until today.
Before I start on the drama let's back up a minute and discuss some current affairs. So my family as you may or may not know is from this little country that has been in the news a lot lately. That country is called Honduras. If you've been hiding under a rock lately and have no clue let me give you the really quick cleft notes on what's going on. So the president of country was getting a little too big for his britches and wanted to stay as president for longer then his term. He was pulling some stunts and getting help from his friend Hugo Chavez. He's also being accused of stealing money from the government. Other people in the government were getting concerned and one night he was taken out of his house in his PJ's and sent to Costa Rica. As you can imagine all hell has broken loose in said country.
The family separates into lots of individual groups most days. Those individual groups are always causing drama. There's the legitimate kids and the bastards. Then there's the group of wealthy and the poor part of the family. There's a crazy break down of aunts and uncles according to whom the mother was and amongst the cousins also. It can crazy sometimes.The biggest break down of a group is those thatlive in the US and those that stayed in Honduras. So you can imagine the latest break down of a group is those that are for and against what was done with the president. Nothing really ugly had been said till today. A message was posted that those of us in the US weren't allowed to voice our opinion on what was going on because living our cushy lives her in the States had made us communist.
Lovely, this is what family is all about. With family members like that who needs enemies, right? So yeah I could respond in a million ways but I choose to keep my trap shut.

Swiss cheese memories

Recently through the modern day miracle of Facebook I found an old childhood friend. By childhood I mean of course my teen years. We all remember our teen years full of angst and disquietude. Unfortunately for me the angst of being an adolescent was tenfold of that of a normal teenager. Now as I’m older and I work with ‘crazy people’ as I like to call them and I’ve been diagnosed as a ‘crazy’ myself I understand so much of what my special angst was about. Being diagnosed a few years ago with Chronic Situational Depression my whole teenage drama makes so much more sense to me.

My depression was so bad during those years that there are chunks of my life that I can’t even remember. There are other chunks of my life that are fuzzy and of course chunks that I’d rather not remember so I pretend that I don’t. There are memories that are fuzzy that I would like to remember and that is why I get so happy when I find people from that period of my life that can help me fill up the voids.
When I saw Armando on another’s friend’s profile I got so excited. Memories of Armando I thought were just fuzzy but as I began to talk to him I realized that there were whole chunks of memories that had just disappeared. I do remember one thing though. Every time that I saw Armando my face would light up and this happiness that I didn’t understand came from somewhere unknown to me. I more often then not had my smile mirrored in his face. I always felt that he was a kindred soul that new all of my secrets even though I had not let one spill from my lips. I can’t remember when we met because we began our conversation as if we had been in the middle of it already. We, I believe, knew each other in another lifetime in a pre-existence to this life.
As adults we have been able to share with no guilt or shame the pain that neither of us was aware the other had but that we both shared. It is my belief that something in us that was where our pain was centered called us to one another in friendship. We were like magnets that couldn’t help but unite together. I wish today that we had dropped our shame, guilt and the pretenses and had been able to talk to one another honestly about things. The one thing that serves as a healing aide for me is to know that we silently supported one another.
I went into my line of work because I wanted to help others not go through similar pains as mine. So today when I see a child with sad eyes that keeps quiet I remember what I was like at that age. I remember Armando and what he quietly bore. I don’t want that for any other child and my hopes that a smile and a hug might help somehow. I hope in my heart that no one feels and goes through my pains but if they do that I can help somehow.

A cultural thing

My mom has visitors coming in and out of the house like crazy since she's been out the hospital. Family and friends want to make sure that she's doing well so they visit. Today we had a group of 3 Hispanic women and their kids come over to visit her. Since there were so many people my mom thought it best to entertain them outside. As many of you know my mom has the most amazing garden that is tended by my 'dad'/boss.
It being such a nice day we spent a good three hours sitting around the section of the garden designated for the tables and chairs. My mom being the Hispanic hostess that she is offered to make everyone dinner. I loved when everyone started preparing the table and helping my mom make dinner. I got up to get flatware and some serving spoons for dinner. By the time that I got back everyone was sitting around the patio table talking. I knew something was being said about me because everyone was looking at me but having the mom I have I'm used to it.
I was surprised when I got to the table and everyone started giggling. Usually they're more discreet about it. Then I hear it! Your boobs and your butt are huge, Lupe! I'm paraphrasing here because I wouldn't want to repeat what they said in front of polite company. I smiled and said yeah it all got big when I got fat. I might as well be honest about it. Then I was surprised when I hear the out cries.
Everyone is telling me I'm not fat and that I'm just the right size. When around Americans I take this as social politeness. It's not considered proper to call someone fat in public or to their face. But when a Hispanic woman tells you this you need to pay attention. In the Hispanic culture the norm is to be honest and straight forward. So if they think you're fat they'll let you know. The shocker for me was when the 25 year old 5 foot 7 inch size 00 (that's right that's two zero's as in she's smaller then a zero) tells me I wish you could give me some of that I'm too skinny. I wanted to yell at her too skinny! You're what every girl dreams to be.
So I've decided maybe it's time to embrace my Hispanic roots and be ok with my size. It seems my Hispanic peers already have

A shout out to my nail salon

Every once in awhile I give a shout out to one of the places I frequent. Letting everyone I know know how great the place is. It started with my hair dresser who was Best of Philly 2007. I agreed the magazine since she's my first hair dresser to not complain about me having too much hair.
Today I want to give mad props to City Nails found in Philadelphia on N. 17th St. between JFK and the BFP.
Here's the story on City Nails. When I was going to the gym every day running anywhere between 6-9 miles a day and working like crazy at my soup kitchen you can imagine the feet I had. They were not pretty. My friend Charity was, as she called it, squatting in my apartment for a bit over a month. To show me her gratitude she would take me on 'dates'. One day we were going to go with a large group of friends to see the Phillies play. Before hand we went to get a manicure and pedicure and that day Charity introduced me to City Nails. The place was amazingly clean, I noticed that they used top of the line cleaning agents (same sanitizing machine my boss uses in his dental office), and a super friendly staff. I never went to another place again. In seeing such a great place month in and month out I began to think this was the norm. Until last month.
I moved to my apartment in the fall so I didn't have too many pedicure needs. When the weather started getting warmer and my flip flops became a permanent fixture in my wardrobe I knew it was time for a pedicure/manicure. I didn't have time to go into the city and seeing so many of them near my house in the suburbs I thought I'd just go to one near me. I thought they're all the same aren't they? No they are not ladies! The service was slow the staff was unfriendly with not only the customers but amongst each other. I sat for an hour , my feet in cold water, waiting for a staff member to begin my pedicure. When I finally got the pedicure started it was painful because she was using dull tools and all ten toes began to bleed. She blamed it on my feet being over sensitive. Funny how they had never bled before! And then proceeded to spray my bleeding feet with alcohol( WTF can you say OUCH!). I should also mention that when she was done w/ me and my bleeding feet I saw her 'clean' her tools with the same alcohol she sprayed on me before she used them on the next person.
Today I went to City Nails and experienced what a good pedicure is suppose to feel again. If you are in Philadelphia and need a mani/pedi City Nails. Ask for Anna!

Cry Baby

I nag and complain so much about my health and sometimes it's so much that I wonder if I'm just one big cry baby. Sometimes when I see my mom walking around cleaning the whole house when she has a really bad flu or just had surgery I wonder if I'm just a big cry baby. When my pain has got me in tears I wonder if everyone else feels the same way I do and I just can't take it. Sometimes I find out that yes indeed I am a big cry baby but sometimes I do get the satisfaction of finding out I should be in more pain then I am. Those are the days that I pat myself in the back and say congrats on not being a cry baby today.
Today I had back to back doctor appointments. First to my bi-monthly therapy session. We've been discussing cycles that cause my depression to 'flare'. For those of you that don't know about three or four years ago I was diagnosed with chronic situational depression. Basically that means that my depression is under the surface waiting for a situation, a thing or an event to let it surface. The thing is that I never know what that thing that well resurface it is going to be. When I was diagnosed I was in a bad rut and I was put on medications. I didn't always want to be on them so about a year ago I slowly weaned myself off of them. I did this with help from my doctor, my psychologist and my therapist (you should never just go off your psyche meds without telling your doctors). My therapist and I began trying to work out triggers that I was aware of and now we're working on cycles that seem to happen that work around me getting depressed.
One of the cycles that keeps popping up in our conversations is my reproductive cycle. We have noticed that when I finally get a period my depression usually sky rockets. You read right I did say "when I finally". See last year I was diagnosed with PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome). Basically that means that due to hormone imbalances when my egg is suppose to leave my ovary and go down my fallopian tube the ruputure that is supposed to happen doesn't. So I get various cysts of eggs on my ovaries. My body each month raises and raises the hormones it sends out to get an egg down to the utereus. My therapist thinks that much hormones in my system may help with my depression surfacing. This has been a theory that we've been working on but haven't been able to prove since I haven't gotten a period since we began working on the theory.
This month my endocriologist gave me some progesterone to kick start a period. The result was me crying over everything and anything for two days after I started taking the meds till today.
My second visit was to the dreadful OB/GYN visit that all women hate. That's right ladies take your clothes off put on a gown crouch to the end of the table and open up wide for a PAP smear. I HATE PAP SMEARS! I HATE OB/GYN EXAMS! I HATE I HATE I HATE this part of being a woman. To make it worse after the student doctor a guy by the name of Craig ( I specifically asked for all women) did the initial how are you bit he gives me the gown and says Dr Helstrem well be with you in a moment. I know she's the only female in the practice so after I put myself in the gown I kept my ears open for a female voice in the hallway.
I hear the clitter clatter of high heels running in the hallway and hear the door open quickly the room next door. I know my doctor is seeing one more patient before she sees me. I roll me eyes as I realized great another 5 or 10 minutes sitting here naked. Then I hear her say in a very strong voice I'm really worried about you. The patient says 'am I about to hear some news I don't want to hear?". I want to yell to his room of course you are you idiot. I get up from my table to grab my cell to text while I wait. I'm sitting in my doctors office naked while she is about to tell a guy something not good what should I do? Then I hear it she tells him his blood pressure is 220/100 and that's why they put him on the EKG machine and that that's not looking too good either. My 5 minutes have passed and I'm thinking ok maybe 15 minutes naked isn't so bad this guy is about to have a heart attack. That's when she asks him all these questions that I realize is her trying to see if he has symptoms of a heart attack. He has none and the poor sap yet hasn't realized where she's going with this. Then she says I already called an ambulance and they're on their way to bring you to the hospital. We're going to stay here till they get here.
At this point I don't know if I want to throw my cell phone to the wall, go next door in my gown and remind them I'm waiting for them naked (that stops me) or yell hey naked woman waiting for you over here (that might make the guys heart attack worse though). I opt to just keep texting they'll get to me eventually. I may be naked and I may hate the procedure that's going to be done to me but hey I'm not having a heart attack!
When they do get to me Craig and Dr. Helstrem apologize for making me wait. I say hey at least I'm not having a heart attack. So here is when I feel like the biggest baby in the whole world. I always cry when the exam happens. I hate it but I figure relax and it won't be so bad. When I tell her that I hate the exam she says hey the books say there are no nerve endings in the cervix but I think it does so I believe you that it hurts. No one has ever told me that. No one has ever been as patient with me during an exam as she was. No one said I was being a cry baby. When she was doing the rest of the exam I told her that my ovaries had been hurting me. I usually get eyes rolling at this point. She explained that they were probably hurting because of all my cysts and that she could feel them. She said they felt pretty bad and she was surprised that I wasn't in more visiable pain. I felt relief that someone finally believed me. She told me to take some advil and go to bed when I got home.
I went to eat a late lunch or early dinner and then a pedicure and then another dinner followed by some Naked Chocolate before I got myself to bed but it was a good day in the end. Knowing that some of the complains I have aren't me being a cry baby but legit made me feel a bit better.

And the band plays on

So a friend commented on my blog asking me if I'm still off the juice errr soda. A few people have asked me in day to day conversation and my favorite was when a co-workers girlfriend incredulous reaction when I passed on the soda at a work function. She blatantly told me to my face that she didn't think I was going to go this long without it. The answer is I'm still off the juice errr soda.
So the reason I haven't blogged about it is because it has gotten easier to not drink it. It hasn't even bothered me to see other people drink it like it did at first. There's a two liter bottle of generic Sprite in my fridge from my birthday party and it's just not calling to me.
I think what helped was a talk I had with my sister-in-law about the reasons that Catholics gave something up for Lent. She explained that it was a type of fast a giving up something for the Lord. A sacrifice of sorts. Seeing it that way helped. She explained that on St. Patrick's people were allowed to have the thing they gave up for that day. I really didn't feel the need to have any for St Patty's though.
There is a story that my brother and mom tell of when I was three and I had the measles. Or was it the chicken pox? My mom says that it had gotten pretty bad. I had no energy and was just lying in bed by day 3. She was really worried because I was breaking out not only outside on my skin but there were pox (measles) in my mouth and throat. I'm guessing it hurt for me to even eat because she says that I refused to eat anything and when I did try t eat I would just cry. By day five she was in a panic. I hadn't eaten anything for days I was barely having awake moments and I had a fever at this point. My brother asked me if I wanted something when I finally woke up and opened my eyes. We all laugh because all I said was Pepsi. The family all ran to go buy some and to help me sit up and drink it. Since that day every time that I'm extremely ill or not feeling even 50% they give me soda. Today I've been really sick. My PCOS has caused a 6 month period of amenorrhea and my endo gave me meds to fix that. So I've been extremely hormonal and having the worst cramps I've had since I was a teenager. I've been laying in bed going in and out of sleep and when I'm awake reading my e-mail or my books. My brother brought me a diet Coke and I drank it because I was feeling that ill. I thought that it would be the magic fix and that I was going to love the way it tasted. I've gone 3 weeks without so I should have been happy to have my old drug. It tasted so gross to me. I hated not only the taste but also the after taste. Maybe I'm cured? I didn't want more and it didn't make me happy. I'll chalk that can as the one soda I could have had on St Patty's. As for now I've got 3 more weeks till I'm there. Easter here we go!

The Most Likely Way to Fail

I was a Vegetarian for almost 3 years of my life. For those almost 3 years every day that I saw my mother she would put meat in my plate. I would kindly explain that I didn't eat meat and she would explain how beef was okay. Each and every time I would be exhausted or end up in tears not knowing why my mom didn't understand.
Recently I was diagnosed with PCOS with a glucose intolerance. Basic translation is I can't have sweets, carbs or anything that is going to turn to sugar when my body digests it. Suddenly my mom was all about feeding me potatoes and corn two vegetables (if you can call them that) that I can't have. I've explained each time she gives it to me I can't have them. I've explained that the sugar isn't good for my PCOS and that because of my Metformin I literally get ill.
When I made the goal to lose weight when I was in a wedding party where the bride called herself fat b/c she was a size 6 compared to her sister a size 2 and her future sister in laws both size 0. I went to the gym every day for up to 3 hrs. I was on a serious diet. 5 meals a day only 300 calories per meal only one soda a day. What would mom do? She'd add stuff to meals that were not on my approved list of foods to eat. If I made my own meals when I would turn around she'd add stuff to it. Her excuse was that she wanted my food to taste better.
So obviously knowing that my mom likes to sabataoge my healthy eatting habits I have not told her about my go off of the soda. She figured it out yesterday. So today when she was making the meals for everyone at the office she served my lunch with a big can of soda. Each time my co-workers and I switched around the drinks so I could get a bottle of water she'd change the bottle back to the middle of the table and put the can of ginger ale next to my plate.
Crazy woman! Gotta love her for trying to keep me happy or what she thinks should make me happy.

Change of Routine

Today was my full day at work off of the 'juice' errr soda. It was really weird to be off of it while doing a full day of work. I noticed that my daily routine changed. In order to get a soda I had to go to the basement of the office. The first thing I always did every morning was go to the basement to get supplies for the office and then grab my soda before going to my desk to start checking my e-mail before getting to the pile of files of patients. It seems that every excuse (reason) that I found to go to the basement was on the side of the basement we keep the fridge with the sodas. It even worked out that the washer and dryer in the office (I do my laundry at work) were next to the soda fridge.
Today I knew that I had to stay out of the basement as much as I could. Maybe the two hour delay, that I gave myself, into the office helped a bit but today instead of going to the basement I went into the kitchen got some fruit and a cup of water and headed to the 'dining room'. I sat down to eat and took my time with the fruit and water. The time frame of eatting gave me enough time to settle into being at work. I think that's what going to the basement for my first soda of the day was about. I had to settle into my work routine and getting a soda was my way of doing it without being noticed. Maybe that's something I have to find a way to get me to settle into the work routine without the soda.
Another thing that I noticed was that without the soda I wasn't eatting so much. I suffer from panic attacks and obviously caffeine isn't good for panic attacks. I noticed that I would get jittery often while drinking my diet Coke. In order to settle the jitters I'd eat more often. Besides the fruit I didn't eat that much today. I forgot about lunch until 4.
I was also more productive. Each time that I had to go to the basement I didn't automatically go to just the one section of the basement to look for things. Being that it's the smallest part of the basement of course I never found anything when looking for things. Knowing that I was trying to stay away from that section when looking for paintings for an art show my agency is sponsoring I went to the larger part of the basement first. I eventually went to the appliance area but it was a quick roam not a slow diddle daddle visit.
I'm seeing good things coming out of this change. Hopefully they'll keep coming

A baby cured me

Day four and I think the cravings are going down!
I spent the whole day at church and with my niece. I'm still feeling that endless thirst but it's not as strong anymore. Maybe it was because I was so busy with the church going and with Mags that I had not time to think about diet Coke.
Maybe the way of getting rid of an addiction is not by finding something else to fill the void but by occupying your self with other things. Thinking of other things seemed to help me not think of the need for the diet coke. Now that that part is getting better I wonder if I'm going to see benefits from staying away from sugar and caffeine. We'll see what happens next

A Junkie I Might Be

Last night Shushana came over to go through the piles and piles of clothes that I'm getting rid of. Do you know how much clothes a girl like me can accumulate? It seems like a lot. Shushana took two bags of clothes with her. Two days before Mar took 3 bags of clothes with her and I still have piles and piles of it around the house. This isn't the point though. So after Shushana rummaged through the clothes we decided to order some food. We called a local deli type place and ordered food. We went to pick it up and here came the issue. What to drink what to drink? There was this huge fridge full of nothing but SODAS. Did I mention that i usually have the largest soda intakes when I go out to eat? There weren't any non soda choices. Usually when I go to other places they have at least one fruit punch or lemonade choice. This place had nada. I refused to pay good money for bottled water so home we went to eat our food. I got one of my bottles of water and mixed a crystal light package. It was good but it just angered me that places don't have many choices for the non-soda drinker.
Today I thought was going to be easy. Saturdays are my only day by myself and yes sometimes I do drink soda but sometimes I don't on Saturdays. It depends if I go out or not. I've been home all day cleaning so far but there's this feeling in the back of my throat. I know it's not thrist I've downed more water and Crystal Light Lemonade then I knew was possible. I keep teling myself I can and I will make it through. I'm sure that in a few days the cravings well go away.
Tonight I'm going out with my family. This should be interesting. We're going to a Spanish party and all Hispanics drink is soda so hopefully there won't be a lot of it and I won't feel too tempted. I know I can do it! I hope I can do it!

Withdrawl symptoms-Day two

It's day two of my little experiment. Day one was easy because I often go one day without my dearest Diet Coke. 90 % of my Sundays I don't have soda so I can say that I usually go at least one day a week without caffeine. This is day two though and I've never gone this long without soda. The office is what you can my dealer. My boss buys diet Coke just for me. So usually I'm on my own on the weekends to get soda. Saturdays I usually go out to eat or go shopping either activity gives me the opportunity to get soda somewhere. Sundays are the hardest because unless I think ahead of time I can't get soda. Due to religious reasons I don't shop on Sundays so I can't get my 'drug'.
So back to my point. Today is the first time in a long time that I go two days without soda or caffeine. It's tough. Even though I've already downed half a liter of water I feel thirsty and anxious. Being that I work with addicts I know the key of giving one thing up is to fill the void with something better. Sigh now to find a good thing to fill the void of my soda. Denise told me that she gave up soda two weeks ago and that she's filling the void with protein water. How fancy, no? Well fancy or no I'm gonna give it a try. Anything to take away this feeling of being faint when I know I'm nice and full.

Lent

I grew up in New Orleans. My Southern accent will prove it true. Having lived amongst 'dirty yankees', as a close friend from Georgia calls them, I've lost some of that accent. Every year come Mardi Gras my heart aches in a way that no one can understand. I guess that the reason I'm so colorful is having grown up in such a colorful city that has such colorful rituals such as Mardi Gras. This year I missed it more then I have in a long time. In order to honor my heritage I've decided to do something different. Well, it's not really heritage because even though I grew up there my family isn't from New Orleans and I wasn't born there but you know what I mean.
To honor the Southern in me and the true meaning of Mardi Gras, and I don't mean the partying, I'm going to give something up for Lent.
If you know me you know that I always have a can of diet Coke on my hand. If it's not a can it's a cup full of ice and diet Coke. Of course I know that giving up diet Coke means that I could easily fill the void with another soda, most likely another diet soda (Diet Dr. Pepper comes to mind) so I have to go beyond just giving up diet Coke. For the next 40 days, or less if I'm not succesful at this, I'm giving up soda in general. I'll keep daily updates on how it's going. This sould be interesting! Let's see how much of a soda junkie I truly am.

My favorite things about fall

My favorite things about Fall.

I <3>

1. The brilliant reds, oranges, yellows and browns that the leaves change to. It is such a beautiful landscape that these vivid colors create.

2. Although I’m not a fan of cold weather I am a fan of baking. With the heat of the summer disappearing you can suddenly start turning on your oven to bake. It’s also the things that you can find for baking during this season.

3. So the reds and yellows and oranges don’t just remain in the leaves but also in what the trees are bearing. Fall brings fruits like pumpkin (yes it’s a fruit) for pumpkin pies, soup, and muffins. It brings apples for apple pie. Most of the citrus family comes in the fall like oranges, tangerines, and kumquats that can make really good citric vinaigrettes for a salad. Cranberries for cranberry sauce or a cranberry orange crème brulee that is very fall. There are so many other fruits.

4. The smell of the neighbors turning on their fireplaces and burning wood. It’s just such a crisp smell in the air at night.

5. I spoke of the fruits so let’s talk about fall vegetables. Avocadoes come in the fall for a great guacamole. Along with green things is broccoli which is my favorite vegetable. Garlic is another fall vegetable and everything is made so yummy by it. I love Spinach salads I’m not crazy about it when it’s cooked but it’s another great fall vegetable as is Sweet Potatoes. There are so many things you can do with Sweet Potatoes.

6. Halloween is the best holiday ever if you ask me. You get to dress up as anything you want and people don’t look at you weird. The other day I got dressed up in my costume and took public transportation to my destination no one batted an eye. If I had put on that dress wig and Goth make-up any other time of the year there would have been a train full of uncomfortable people. There’s also the candy. I can’t eat a lot of candy anymore but seeing the happy faces on the faces of all those kids is just a great experience.

7. I can bring out my t-shirt jersey bed sheets during this great season. Falling asleep all covered up in soft jersey. Ok let’s be honest just the new warm cozy bedding you start using when fall arrives is a great thing all around.

8. Thanksgiving is the second fall holiday. Who can live without a huge meal like Thanksgiving dinner? It’s just not the food but the chance to stop and think of all the blessings in your life.

When Jimmy becomes unwantable

If you have an addiction to feed you learn ways to feed it. Since I can remember I have had a not so unique addiction to shoes. To me it seems that a huge percentage of the female population has a similar addiction. The older I’ve gotten the finer the taste for my addiction has become. When I first was able to start buying my own shoes I was in high school and most of my shoes came from Payless. In college I was working several jobs and going to school. My taste became a tad more refined. Stores like TJ Maxx and Ross were able to get my attention to buy shoes. When I graduated college and had a real job, you know one not at a supermarket, I finally joined countless other women in what I like to call the Middle Class of shoe stores. You know the stores I mean, Nine West, Aldo’s, Bandolino, and Aerosoles. I thought I had made it to the big times. Then a show called Sex and the City became more prominent in my life. I had been watching the shows for a while now but for the first time I was paying attention I mean really paying attention. Names like Jimmy Choo and Monoloblanc became names that I began to understand. I wanted these shoes like I wanted to be a size 2. It was a life goal that I didn’t think that I could reach but always tried to get to.

Last year shopping I found a beautiful pair of black Jimmy Choo, black leather open back heels that were heaven. They were only $100 due to the one error that Jimmy made. They were a size 6. Not many women out there seem to be a size 6 so that size just isn’t sellable very often. That’s where my addiction feeding comes in. I was blessed with a perfect size 6 foot. I didn’t realize this blessing till recently but I love that blessing. I had reached that unattainable goal finally.

So I wore my shoes twice and I noticed something that scared me. The tip was being eaten as I walked with my shoes. I wore them two more times and then stopped wearing them because the shoe was being eaten alive. I recently took them to a shoe repair store that took me all this time to find. To repair the damage cost me more then the shoe cost. It’s still a deal because the total of the shoe plus the repair is still less then what they would have cost me. I realized something though. You can reach unattainable goal but do you really want to stay there? I bought them but every time I used them I knew I was killing them and fixing them was another expense. Maybe I should be happy with what I have and what I can attain now.

Fake it till you make it

That's right I said it fake it till you make it. Everyone thinks I'm happy and over this fiasco. I'm back with a vegence appearances would have you believe. I'm matching and caring about my way of dress once more. I'm hanging out with people more then I did before. I'm laughing and smiling and coming up with things for people to do. I'm constantly sending texts to see what the new is. I'm talking about the situation without obsessing about it or crying when someone brings it up. I taught my first Relief Society lesson without any signs that I was in a million tiny little shreds from having my heart ripped torn and stomped on. I'm also picking up new projects so according to what everyone sees I've made it back to sanity.
Appearances are the liars that we all wish we could be. The above picture is the greatest example! Looks like I'm the happiest person alive don't I? That picture was taken the night of the break up! You can't tell that one of those girls had to keep a 24 hr vigil to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. You would never surmise that another one of the girls there that night rampaged my whole apt for all of my prescribtion medicines to make sure I didn't take any. I was a mess I am a mess and I will be for a long time. It's not necessary for everyone to see how tortured I am in the inside. I am my own glue no one can put the pieces back together but me.
Erik says 'he is dead to you' so he thinks I can be not just my old self but a better me by saying that. I have to go on and so I do. The honest truth is that each time I go to a certain site on line and it tells me he was looking at my profile I break into tinier pieces. Each time a memory of him floods my mind it leaks some of those memories through my eyes in the form of tears. Each time it dawns on me how willing he was to let me go even though he said he would never do that I die a million new deaths. So I smile and I go out partying every night, I work on a million new personal projects, I do overtime at work, I smile and I laugh at all the jokes, shamelessly flrirt with any guy who flirts with me in the hopes that as I fake it one day in the very near future I can do it without having to fake it.

I get by with a little help from my friends!

Many of you have been asking me how I'm doing. Everyone keeps telling me how strong I am. So here's the truth.
I'm going through the grieving process. It's like Erik told me breaking up with someone you have to act as if they died. I've gone through anger as you may have all have read in my last blog. Then last week I called him and bargained. I think I'm finally slowly reaching acceptance.
I'm thinking that strong as everyone thinks I am I don't think that's how I would describe myself. My favorite scripture is Nephi 3:7 . At first I was very very angry with Heavenly Father but with some faith and lots of prayer I know that He wants me to learn from this experience. I know that I can get through this. This is not how I thought things would end but now that they have I must go on.

Updates

I'm blogging b/c I was recently reprimanded for not blogging in awhile. I haven't blogged because I felt there was nothing much to tell. Things have been going really well and I'm happy... hmmm maybe that's why I haven't been blogging I've not had anything to complain about. No need to cry on the internet's shoulder about how horrible my life is. That and to be honest life has kept me really busy.
I have one great piece of news though. After saying that I would never be in love again and dismissing all romantic ideas I actually have fallen in love. I'm in love and I'm happy and I feel like the luckiest person in the world. He's the most amazing person in the world. He's sweet and kind and choices to ignore my bad qualities and actually loves me for some of them. It's such a great feeling to not only be in love but to have those feelings recipricated.

Laughing it out

My Bishop called to ask me to see him on Sunday before church. I gave him a yes and was wondering what was going on.
When I got to his office today I sat down and put my cards on the table. I figured it had to be one of three things. He surprised me when he said it was two of the three. He called me as the Relief Society Enrichment Counselor. I started laughing when he told me. When I realized he was serious I stopped laughing. Took the position and then started laughing again. He was serious he wanted me there so I said yes.

One of these things is not like the others

People travel in packs with other people that are just like them. That's at least what I was told when I was a young girl. I never believed that it was completly true since my friends were always what I wanted to be but never what I saw myself as.
In high school I was friends with the really smart people in school. My grades would tell you other wise about my intelligence. Yes I did go to a Magnet school, yes I understood the criteria in class but I was unwilling to do all the work. I doubted my intelligence still do actually.
In high school I also hung out with the group of people that would be considered artsy. All the girls had long hair that they would put up in ponytails. They'd wear long flowing skirts with flower prints with birkenstocks or their old Converse. They'd have charcoal or paint on their faces after school. The boys were all smokers and in some kind of band. There was the Dave triad in my grade too. Dave M. wore Doc Martens and black jeans w/ a white shirt and his leather jacket year round. Dave Green wore dresses to school year round but was straight. His hear would be a variety of colors but mostly green. Dave Garcia was the pretty boy of all three but still hung out with the group and played the guitar for the girls. I didn't have an artistic bone in me. I sometimes wondered if they just let me in their group to be nice.
In college no matter where I sat down in classes people seemed to flock near me because I was the smart girl according to them. I was quiet but I didn't get half of what was going on in class. It seemed my classmates got less then I did though. When I walked into the music lounge in school there was always someone in one of the popular cliques that wanted me to sit with them. They wanted me to explain something or just wanted to talk. I would hide in the cafeteria to eat and study. Every semester someone in one of my science classes would find me and ask me to explain something. Before I knew it each semester I had a study group I never planned on of ten people. I over heard someone once say oh she's the popular girl in John's group. John was the popular guy in the class. John and I helped each other with homework but I never thought I was part of his group or that they all liked me. Yes they were nice to me but they had to be they knew I was the one who would explain the mysterious of biology to them.
When I started taking the pre-requisites for Nursing I sat in the seat that made it easiest to leave the class. Medical terminolgy seemed like it was going to be boring. I was surprised when the girl w/ dyed black hair and tattoos sat next to me and started chatting me up. I was more shocked when a week later we were on campus and she said hi to me and introduced me to as the cool chic in her med. term class. I wasn't tattoed I ddin't have smart ass comments to make all I did was be nice to her. I made friends w/ all the goth kids that semester. I wasnt' goth though so I didn't get it.
Then it happened I graduated college and became an adult. I moved out on my own into Univ. City. I found myself hanging out with all the pretty girls in my neighborhood. They all liked to wear nothing but name brands and just out shine everyone. I was stunned by their beauty but they loved to include me in things. I like pretty clothes, I like name brands but I'm not pretty so why befriend me? Then I met my neighbors... the hippie, the artist, the seamestress and her boyfriend, the pretty blonde with brains. We can all talk in the hallway togehter for hours. My apartment is the center of activity in the building. We do things together and I'm always having my door knocked with one of them having a question. The artsy building with me the social worker... and yet the befriend me. I'm not like them or so I think so, so why do I befriend them if I travel with them why don't I look like them or am like them? Am I missing something?