I’m sure all five of  you are just dying to know what the hell I’ve been up to for the past 6 months. I mean, it’s not like I could have spent EVERY SINGLE SECOND of my free time giving myself multiple nerdgasms watching Doctor Who.

Well I probably could have, but then when would I have found the time to watch Firefly? HUH?

So basically, some really shitty stuff that I had no control over happened in my life. When it did, I tried my best to take control over the things that I could. I made it my mission to try to “find myself.” To work out every day. To meditate. To eat healthy. In short, to be perfect.

Until that point, I had always maintained a sort of  “controlled chaos” lifestyle. But I made it my goal in life to change that. I no longer wanted to be the funny girl. I didn’t want to be the person that people told stories about. I didn’t want to be the person that got herself into horrible, ridiculous situations anymore.

The truth is-by trying to calm the chaos in my life, I somehow created the perfect storm.

The harder that I tried to define myself (or find myself)- the further I fell from the things in my life that defined me. The aspects of my life that I had been trying so hard to control, began to control me.

I found myself truly depressed for the first time ever. I quit writing and doing comedy.  I fell back into disordered eating. I withdrew from my friends family… and THAT’s when the obsessive Dr. Who-ing occurred.

The one bright spot in all of this, is that I was able to recognize that I was in a bad place and that I wouldn’t be able to get out of it alone. I’ll go into it more one day when it’s farther in my past, but I will admit that much of my free time the last few months has been spent in therapy, group therapies, support groups and doctor’s offices. It hasn’t been fun, but it has taught me a lot.

When I got laid off 2 weeks ago-  I was sure I was going to plummet even farther into despair. In those first bleak hours, I figured I would lose even more control and that I would spend the rest of my days flying in weird octagons over the cuckoo’s nest. I imagined my parent’s selling everything they owned and putting on benefit concerts trying to raise enough money to give me a lobotomy.

Amazingly enough, the opposite happened. (You can read more about this in my previous post) It could be just temporary, but I honestly feel more like myself the last three weeks than I have in the past eight months. I’ve been sleeping again; albeit odd hours since I’m not currently working normal hours. I’ve been eating again, normally… when I’m hungry and not obsessing over every single thing that I put in my body. I haven’t even worked out except for the occasional walk here and there, and mostly just to get myself to a destination. I’ve found that I can find a balance in the meditating, obsessive yoga aspects my life and the crazy chaotic ones- and that I like it.

Most importantly, I’ve been recognizing that there is still so much that I love about life… and THOSE are the things that define me.

I don’t know about you, but the last few years as my thirties have been looming over me, I’ve had to face a few harsh realizations. I’ll never learn to do my “nine” times tables without using my fingers, my left knee will always forecast the weather better than Al Roker, and unfortunately; I’ll either have to work out until I’m 65 and don’t care anymore- or I’ll end up working in Vegas as a Rosie O’Donnell impersonator.

I’m weird about working out. I do it in spurts. For months at a time I’ll get on a kick where I’ll be getting physical more than Olivia Newton John- and then I’ll get burnt out and my hard core workouts will slowly trickle into slow walks around the block. Or mosies, as I like to call them.

For years, I hated going to gym more than I hated doing algebra. You couldn’t pay me to enter a building where people wore tight clothing and made faces like they were having sex as they lugged huge pieces of metal and ran on a machine with no destination and when no scary person was chasing them with a gun. A gym used to be nothing to me but a sweat sauna. I thought that I would walk in and everyone would stare at me and judge me for my rolls of fat and for not being enthusiastic about doing sit-ups. I hated that there was a place that encouraged people to do sit-ups. A gym, in short- was my version of hell.

Now I see things a bit different.

Don’t get me wrong, I still despise going to the gym. If given the choice, I’d rather sit on the couch and watch a Hannah Montana marathon, but as I said before- I don’t really have that choice at this point in my life. I can still complain about it until my face turns blue- and I could will throw tomatoes at Tony’s stupid face on the TV screen if you make me do P90X, but that doesn’t change the fact that it has to be done. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy it. I will say that I still enjoy dancing and I love the way yoga makes me feel, but everything else? Is for the birds. If someone says that they truly love spin class, their pants are either on fire or they are freak-flying over the cuckoo’s nest.

I will say this though, as much as I hate going to the gym- I have learned how to thoroughly enjoy myself once I get there. And since I love you all so much, I’ve decided to let you in on my secrets.

1. Be better than someone.

Whether you are a newbs at the gym, or a novice at pumping iron- I can promise you this: there is always someone there that you can beat at something. My gym is full of older people and women who use the gym as social hour…there is always someone I can beat at working out. It may sound a little mean, but let me tell you- you get on a treadmill next to someone who is about the same level of in-shape as you, and keep a close eye on their treadmill to make sure that you are going a tiny bit faster and burning a few more calories- and it’s no longer a workout- it’s a competition. Within a few minutes you’ll want to break out in a full-on run just to prove that you can.

That’s kind of why I like going to aerobics classes. The minute that I want to keel over and die, I simply look around for someone who is half-assing it more than I am, and then turn it up just a tad bit. It doesn’t mean you have to work a whole lot harder. Just enough to feel good about yourself that you can do more sit-ups than an 80 year old man. Win. And it’s always fun to win.

2. Pretend that it is all a performance.

This may sound a little weird, but if you change your frame of mind a little bit- it’s a guaranteed good time. Rather than thinking of my work-out as simply a time to burn calories and firm up my jelly, I prefer to play a character. This will probably be a little easier for those of you with a flare for the dramatic, but if you can get there- I promise it will change your life forever.

As I mentioned before, I have always loved to dance. More than that- I love to be on stage and role-play. I do it in all other facets of my life, so why not at the gym? If I’m in spin class, I pretend that I’m actually a biker on get-away race. If I’m swimming laps, in my brain I’m actually in the movie Jaws, trying my damndest to out-swim old sharp tooth. When I’m in aerobics class, I am performing in an aerobics video. When it looks to you that I’m lifting weights, in my head I’m actually starring in a sports movie-montage. The music you choose to listen to plays a key role in the tone and mood of your performance. It’s your soundtrack, so choose wisely. Bob Dylan is grand- but he doesn’t make well for a well- played character, unless you want to go all Clint Eastwood in the gym. Not only does role-playing take your mind away from what your actually doing, but it also helps you to achieve a damn good work-out. You don’t think Natalie Portman lost 20 pounds by just sitting on her ass, do you?

3. Make it all a performance.

Sometimes, playing a role in your head just isn’t enough. In fact, once your in character- often times, you can’t help but letting it out a little bit- and it feels good. It might be a little daunting at first, but a lot of people do it. Just look around. Those dudes don’t HAVE to make the grunting sound when they’re lifting dumb-bells. No. They are letting they’re inner Sylvester Stallone show through- and you should too.

It doesn’t have to be overly obvious; you can just take it as far as you feel comfortable. For instance, when your walking on the treadmill and listening to a Hilary Duff song on your ipod that you don’t know the words to, mouth them anyway. Nod your head. Don’t be afraid to dance a little. This is the only time in your life when people won’t know that you don’t actually know the words that you’re faking. Even sing a word out loud now and then. People around you will feel jealous that you are having so much fun, which once again- makes your workout a win.

If you happen to be in a Palates class, don’t be afraid to stare at yourself seductively in the mirror. If you’re in weight aerobics, add in the hip shakes and shoulder bounces when you feel so inclined. Focus on yourself in the mirror, and just know that everyone else in there is focusing on themselves as well. If you’re running on a track, stop and do a silly dance. If you’re lifting weights and Bohemian Rhapsody comes on your ipod, stop and use the weight as a microphone for a moment. Stop caring what anyone else thinks. Working out doesn’t benefit anyone but you, so you should only worry about yourself while doing it.

4. Point and Laugh.

This is going to sound completely hypocritical after all that I’ve said before about feeling self conscious at the gym and how everyone focuses on their selves while working out; but your just going to have to accept the fact that I am, actually a bit of a hypocrite. But I would be even more so if I said that I didn’t enjoy making fun of people in my head a little bit. And believe me, if you follow my advice about roll-playing and making your work-out a performance, I can promise you that people will be making fun of you in their heads too, so just think of it as pay-back. And payback is always a bitch.

Besides, other than Six Flags, there is no better place in the world to people watch than the gym. There are all kinds of interesting people who have to work out just like we do. People wear weird things to the gym. They make weird faces. They talk to their friends about interesting personal matters. They do weird things with their mouths when they think no one is watching. They wear gray pants so it looks like they have peed when they get crotch sweat. So watch…. and laugh quietly to yourself as you do your own weird things. It makes time go by so fast, and it will get your mind off of thinking you are going to pass out.

5. Mix it up a bit.

Everyone always says to mix up your workouts so that you won’t get bored. That is not what I mean at all. Although I do have to say that that works too.

What I’m talking about though, is something entirely different. As much as you might mix your actual workout up, it’s still a workout. So to make things interesting and entertaining- you have to really think outside the box and change the other factors that play into your workout.

Try listening to something out of the ordinary on your ipod. I use my exercise time as music exploration time. Yesterday, I listened to nothing but jazz. Last week, I listened to history podcasts. When I do choose to listen to my same old mix, I have to keep myself on my toes somehow, so I decided a while back to put Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You up” in my work out mix several times, only I went into my itunes and changed the title and artist as another band that I put on my mix so that I will effectively rickroll myself at least once a workout. It never fails to make me laugh.

I also decided that since the girls who wear sports bras and other ridiculous work out attire, are so entertaining to me- that I would join them in making my outfit enjoyable to others. I try to always wear ridiculous t-shirts to the gym. I even cut the arm-pits out of an old NSYNC shirt, because it makes me laugh.

If your really brave, try wearing an early 90′s thong leotard paired with lycra leggings and an exercise belt. Then you’ll really be able to role-play flash dance! Perhaps the next time your in aerobics and your teacher decides to put on techno-music, you should get up and flick the lights on and off to make it like a gay-bar. Why the hell not? Your paying for it. What are they going to do, kick you out?

Well maybe…. But regardless, working out sucks balls- but I hope that I could be of at least a little assistance in making it more fun for you.

Being the self-deprecating person that I am, I initially thought that writing on the subject of “something that I love about myself” would be quite difficult, but the truth is- I kind of rock.

Although I could still write a novel about all the things I would like to change about myself, I realized that there are quite a few things about me that I find quite enjoyable.

Unfortunately, most of the qualities that I love most about myself are also the same qualities that others find highly annoying… but I think I’ve finally come to a point in my life where I’m OK with that.

I’m not going to list all of the things that make me really, really, ridiculously amazing, but I think I can try to sum them up into one all-encompassing quality.

Basically, I love that I am kind of a child.

Not in the Forest Gump “kind of like a child sort of way, though some may beg to differ… but I do think that sometimes I have a bit of a child like outlook on life.

I’m not going to deny that I’m a little “jaded.” I don’t like the way a lot of things in my life are going. I despise men in graffic tees. I actually don’t like most things that have to do with men in general right now.

Regardless, after all the shit I’ve gone through the last few years with my family and personal mountains, I sometimes surprise myself by being so excited by life. I even like going through the darker times because I know it’s going to get better. I like to use that time to improve all of the aspects of my life. I love finding new projects, starting new hobbies and meeting new people. I love that I feel things so deeply. I love that I still have the ability to care about a person enough to get hurt. I love that I’m optimistic. I love that I have an active imagination. I love that I can emphathize with other people’s pain. I know so many people who don’t really do that.

On the other hand, I love that I feel emotions on the other extreme as well. I love that I’m constantly excited about what’s next. I love that I really miss my family and friends when they’re away. I love that I cry at Hallmark commercials and Lifetime movies. I love that I’m a hopelesss romantic. I love that I’m passionate. I love that I have the abilty to be truly moved by a song or a piece of artwork. I love that I can make any situation fun. I love that my heart flutters when I’m on a walk and I see something beautiful. I love that I dream big. I love that I like to sing loud. I love to laugh. I love life.

I know this all sounds as cheesy as an old Saved by the Bell episode, but it’s true.

I fucking love being me.

I know, if your an internet person you’ve probably known about this thing for months, bust since I’ve been the worst blog reader in the history of blog readers (and that’s like 13 years people), I’m only just finding out about it.

At first I thought it was interesting, but since I typically prefer not to participate in MEMEs, I decided against doing it.I figured that I would never really be able to write truthfully about myself. Hell, I’m not sure if I even know the truth about myself.

Whenever I have tried to figure myself out in the past, all I’ve ever been able to come up with are conundrums.

I love potatoes… a lot. French fries, baked potaters, sweet potaters, mashed tators, tots, hash browns… you name it. I love potatoes, but you couldn’t pay me to eat any of those items if I didn’t smother them in ketchup.

I love John Cusack. I mean hell, I pretend he’s my boyfriend in my head sometimes. But I wouldn’t want to meet him. I would find out that he’s not really Lloyd Dobler and then I’d be really sad.

I believe in God and I believe that I am ultimately a Christian, but I don’t necessarily believe that Jesus was literally God’s son, or that the  Bible is much more than a book on moral guidance.

I am a huge fan of Michael Jackson, and I have so much respect for that man and what he did for music- but listening to him sometimes hurts my earballs.

I could go on with these for days, but basically what I’m trying to say is that I’m one, bit, fat, conundrum. I have a hard time nailing down what I truly believe to be fact about myself.

Which is exactly why I’ve decided to participate in this MEME, that started- who knows where. I’ve been on a bit of a mission of self-discovery lately, and I figure this is as good as a way as any to make some progress on me.

So. I’m not sure how I plan to go about this, whether or not I’ll go in order, or if  I’ll stick to the MEME daily for the rest of NaBloPoMo, but I’m going to attempt to finish all thirty in a timely matter.  I’m not sure how interesting any of it’s going to be, so even if you’ve stuck around this long – I won’t blame you if you bow out now.

In case you have been under the same rock as me, here is the list:

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

Feel free to join in, and please let me know if you do. Happy Truthing!

Since November is apparently the month of ambition and rash decisions, I’ve decided to add another one to my plate.
Yesterday I mentioned the phenomenon of NABLOPOMO, and laughed at the concept of trying to participate. Well since publishing my last blog, ( which by the way was actually published on November 1st but I can’t figure out how to set the military style time on WordPress so it always publishes to the day before,) I’ve decided that I will, in fact participate.
I can’t promise that I’ll write anything worth reading, or that the words will even be readable, or even in English for that matter- but I can promise that I am going to try my absolute damndest to write a little something every day in November. At first I was going to try to write on my other blog, but I’m not sure I’m up to facing that subject matter just yet. Right now I’m focused on trying to clear my mind and move on in life. So bear with me.

Also, since my blogs have been a little down in the dumpsters lately, I’m going to attempt to lighten up.

So… here I am. Ready to start. On day two of blogging about happy things every day for 30 days.

Hmmm..

Oh… well before I get started on happy things, I guess I should start with saying a few things about my dog BB Jellybean, who died last Friday.

BB Jellybean, You will be missed.

We got BB when I was in the 9th grade. My little sister decided that she wanted a toy poodle, so that’s what we got. BB didn’t often look like a poodle though. We loved the hell out of that puppy, but my parent’s always preferred the afro-look to the well groomed poodle look. I wince to think that I got my own personal grooming habits from my parent’s dog-grooming habits.

BB was never the typical pet. She didn’t like to go on walks. She didn’t like to chase after balls. She hated water, and she preferred to sleep on a purple velvet pillow. BB went everywhere with us, and she went there in our arms. She was never happier than when she was perched in my little sister’s lap. She belonged to all of us, but she was really my sister’s best friend. I remember when my sister was in the 5th grade and her best friend moved away, that she spent an entire day cuddled up with our little BB – stating over and over that BB was her best friend.

I feel awful that I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. The last time I went home, which was only a few weeks ago, BB wasn’t doing well but I didn’t think she would be going just yet. She lost her eyesight a few months back, and I noticed that her hearing must have been going too, because she didn’t greet me at the door when I arrived. I let her sleep in my bed that night, and when I woke up she had left me a couple little presents, but I really didn’t mind. I just chalked it up to her not wanting to wake me up to let her out. BB was always really respectful like that.

About two weeks ago BB quit eating. She would barely even touch the scrambled eggs, cheese and ice cream sandwiches that my parent’s attempted to feed her by hand. The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with her, but said that it was probably something digestive. They gave her some antibiotics, but she still wouldn’t eat.

I have been so busy the last few weeks, that I hadn’t really been able to digest BB’s passing until tonight. I’m not sure what I believe about the human after life, but I’m 1 thousand-million percent sure that BB is in a happy place now. She’s eating popcorn and fish- crackers and she’s listening to the Little Mermaid with my late parrot Billy and my rat Bogart.

As much as “Pet Cemetary” scares the bejeezus out of me, I’m pretty sure that I would reserruct BB if I had the chance. Zombie BB might be a little bit evil, but I loved her that much.  

I miss you BB, wherever you are!

OK that’s a lie. But mostly it’s not. I’ve really tried, and I think it’s working. I’ve been going to yoga every night. I’ve been meditating for at least 4 minutes before I start thinking about food. And more than anything, I’ve really kept most negative thoughts abay.

That’s a lie too.

Negative thoughts cross my mind all day long. I don’t know how to stop them. I DO think that I’ve found a solution though. Or at least a temporary fix. It’s simple. Every time I think of something negative, I accept it and then just justify it with something that I do feel positive about.

An example? OK.

You know what really sucks stinky poo?

When you get that dreaded email from your bank saying something like “You have asked to be alerted when your bank account drops below a certain level. It is now below that level.”

FUUUUDDGEEE. Seriously, where does all the money go? I mean I get paid week to week, so I know I can make it.. but still, I’m on a budget yo. I’m gonna have to have a baby for someone or quit buying songs on itunes or SOMETHING!

But you know what makes it all better?

Knowing that I spent my money in a wonderful way. The boo and I literally had our own Deep Ellum pub crawl. We went to every bar in walking distance and only had a drink at each. It added up… but so worth it.

You know what makes me want to kill small children?

When “Mambo No. 5 ” comes on my Pandora. Seriously. I like nothing even remotely close to this song. It hurts my soul and my heart and my brain.

But you know what makes me smile despite the fact that “Mambo No. 5″ has played twice in the last week?

Smile Smile’s new video for “Truth On Tape.” I still love them so much.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

You know what makes me want to scream expletives at my grandpa?

Pain. Human pain. Of the physical category.

But you know what makes me want to have Steve Buschemi’s babies?

Knowing that the pain came from a weekend of marathon getting it on. What qualifies as marathon you ask? Nineya yo business.

That and my new tattoo. I’ve always wanted a comedy and tragedy mask tattoo. I think it stems from my long love of the theater and comedy. But now that I’m trying to adapt to this new “positive thinking” style of life, I decided that I wanted something that was a little more positive. I wanted something that I could look at that would remind me how good life is. So I went with this…

You know what makes me want to eat a pound of cheesecake and cry?

The fact that the hair on my foot in this picture makes me look like a man.

But you know what makes that OK?

Nothing. I’m a lazy excuse for a woman. But then again, I think I’m OK with that.

As I approached my 28th Birthday, there were several times when I caught myself thinking of all the things I have yet to accomplish. In fact, I spent the last few weeks laying in bed at night freaking out because I’m STILL not where I thought I would be in my life. I don’t have the ideal income, I’m not completely self reliant, I drink entirely too much, I still have a bit of an inferiority complex, I’ve quit going to the gym daily, and I’ve found that I occasionally still slip back into old bad habits.

Today, though, I made a decision. I’m not sure whether or not it’s because I’ve been clear headed and sober for 48 hours, but while I was on the treadmill today, thoughts began pouring out of my brain before the blaring sound of LCD Soundsystem on my ipod could block them out.

I’m ready to quit focusing on all that I haven’t achieved. I’m ready quit putting myself down for lapses in judgment that I’ve made in the past. I’m ready to stop dwelling on all of my forgotten goals, and I’m ready to stop pretending that I can just sit here idle and the world will magically fix my problems.It’s time to take action.

First I want to congratulate myself on what I have achieved in the past year. Twenty-seven may have not been the best year of my life, but I think I’ve endured a lot of changes, some of which have helped me become a stronger person.

During my 27th year I changed jobs. I changed houses, changed cities, and changed roommates. I watched my family fall apart and had to learn to play the role of an adult with my parents. I helped to bring my family back together. I let go of relationships and learned that I deserve respect from others and from myself. I’ve had arguments with close friends and am learning how to compromise. I became a blogger and realized though at times I may go a little too far, I enjoy putting myself out there and love to write like no one’s reading. I’ve made new friends and reconnected with old ones… and I’m starting to understand the importance of friendship and communication.

But if 27 was a year of change, I think 28 needs to be the year of growth. I’ve decided to set some goals for myself, but I’m also not going to be too hard on myself ifI don’t meet them all.. because after all, I’m not perfect.

I want to be more reliable, and in turn not take people for granted.

A close friend of mine told me the other day that in just the last two months she has noticed that I am not near as flaky as I used to be. She told me that she had started to hold me more accountable to things that I say I will do… and while on one hand that scares the bejeezus out of me… it also made me proud. I used to enjoy being the person that no one could count on. Not because I didn’t want people to like me, but because I was lazy and wanted to be able to flake out of situations without people being surprised. For a long time I didn’t mind when people said, “Oh that’s just Carissa.. she probably just forgot.” After years of this behavior I’m sure that people have just come to assume that I’ll be the one who forgets to RSVP to weddings. People have come to expect that I’ll be the one who will arrive 2 hours late to the party, if I even show at all. I don’t know how I went so long without caring that I was “that” girl. I have come to realize lately that I rather enjoy it when people can count on me. It makes people respect me, and want to behave the same way in return. I plan on making 28 the year that people can count on me for a change.

I want to choose my battles… but also my apologies.

I’m not one to argue much with friends. I don’t like confrontation, but even more than that- I’ve always had a difficult time standing up for myself. Over the last few years I feel that I’ve made some head way in that regard. I’ve begun to feel passionate about my stance on my ideas and care a little more about sticking up for them, and I believe that this is a positive change. However, I’ve gotten myself in a few situations where I’ve gotten involved and I probably shouldn’t have.. It’s good to share opinions, but just like momma always said (your mom, not mine) there are times when things are best left unsaid. Sometimes it’s best to just let things play out and I think it’s important for me to understand that time is the best cure for some circumstances.

That being said, I still feel that one of my greatest weaknesses is how quickly I am to take the blame…. to say “I’m sorry.” I’m not saying that I shouldn’t apologize when I am at fault, but I should definitely recognize the times when I’m not. I spend entirely too much time feeling guilty over situations that I have absolutely no control over. I can’t be there for everyone all the time. It’s not my fault if my friend’s argue with each other, or if their relationships don’t work out. I can’t feel bad about not being able to be at two places at once. I can sympathize with situations, but I can’t always do something about them, and I need to learn to be OK with that.

I want to fill my time with things that make me happy, find new hobbies and get more involved with old ones.

I have a lot of passion for a lot of different things, but I feel like lately I’ve let a lot of them fall by the wayside. I want to spend this year getting back involved in the things I love. I want to perform more, and not be afraid to try new things. I want to improve my writing, and do it more often. I want to take advantage of opportunities. I want to embrace my talents and start looking to using them for my future. I want to join my sister on a birding adventure, ride the bike that has been sitting in my garage for 4 months, and start swimming again. I want to take one of the art classes in my neighborhood that I’ve looked into 5 times but never thought I had the time for. I want to meet some of you people and have some good conversation. I JUST WANT TO DANCE!

I want to live a healthier lifestyle, both physically and mentally… have respect for myself and treat my body like the temple that it is. Basically I want to be the best me.

When people I know see that I’ve lost over a 100 lbs, a lot of people assume that I am the epitome of good health, that I must have have mastered self control.  This couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure there are days, even consecutive weeks when I will work out 5 days a week, watch my portions, and count calories. But there are also days where I am so terrified that I will gain weight, that I will consume almost nothing so that I can drink a bottle of wine at night. There are other days where I will completely jump the wagon and not even care that I just ate an entire weeks worth of Chinese food, but will stress about it for days after. I don’t want to be this person anymore. I know this is something that I’ll probably always struggle with, but I want to find some consistency. My healthiest months are the ones where I am the most happy, and I want to feel that way all the time. I don’t want to be the kind of person who is always concerned about my appearance, or that people are going to judge me…. and for the most part I’m not. I want to get to the point (and some days I’m there) where I’m not concerned if I gain a few lbs, where I know that I will still feel comfortable and confident in my body no matter what size I am.

I want to stop smoking, and I’m only 2 days in but I think I can do this. I want to cut down on drinking significantly, so that I can remember the good times… so that I can enjoy the quality of my life. I want to brush my teeth every night and go to sleep early enough so that every once in a while I can get up and enjoy a sunrise walk.

I want to be more confident in myself. Sometimes I think I was more confident when I was bigger, probably because I had to be. I want to be able to walk into a room and KNOW that I’m fabulous, even if other people may not agree.

I don’t want to be so insecure in my relationships. I want to trust. I want to have more faith in people and human kind as a whole. I want to have the same faith in myself as I think some people have in me.

I want to enjoy everyday of 28, and not get bogged down by the little things. I want to make the most of this wonderful, wonderful life.

Thanks for sticking with me through 27, and through this ridiculously sappy post. Even this girl gets sappy every once in a while. I LOVE YOUR FACE!

Blog Birthday that is. What the what!? I sat down to write my first post in 2 weeks and I realized that somehow the fact that today marks one year of blogging was about to fly by my face without me even noticing it. I know it’s been a while- but holy mother of my soul, this is literally the longest I’ve ever stayed committed to ANYTHING! Oh sure, I posted a while back about my Cameraversary, where I celebrated an entire year without losing a camera, but this is different. I’m a quitter. I quit everything, except for the few vices that I really should quit. I get tired of things. And though it may seem like I’ve grown tired of this… I really haven’t- and this is just the fire under my bootie that I need to get things flowing again.

But since I have been majorly sucking at blogging as of late, I’ve decided to wait and celebrate until my real birthday- in about 2 weeks or so. Soooo… In two weeks expect a fantabulous giveaway. I’ll be talking about that more in the weeks to come, but for now- I MUST POST ON.

I promised myself that when I finally got around to updating the old blog, I wouldn’t get all schmoozy and apologize for my lack of presence on the internet. But then every time I sit down to write, I end up opening my reader, read a few posts, then start feeling simultaneously guilty and overwhelmed for not being a better blogger/blog friend. So I’m just going to say it this once. I’M SORRY! I SUCK AT LIFE! DRAGON EELS SHOULD EAT MY FACE!

That being said, I haven’t written for lack of topic. Everyday I write a million ideas down on pieces of scrap paper- but those seem to get lost in the clusterfuck that is my purse. Other times I write things down on my hand- but somehow- even though I rarely shower (Hey! I’m just doing my part to be green) it  smudges off and all I’m left with is a scraggly “mdio ___ asdji” and I don’t even know Japanese, so that does me no good.

More than anything, I feel that I should catch you up on the happenings of my life as of late, but I don’t know where to start. So much has happened, yet so little. In order to get started in blogging again in an orderly fashion, I decided to ask the ye ole faithful people of twitter and facebook for a few words of inspiration. And by inspiration I didn’t mean encouraging words, because that would have done crap. I just asked for random words, which I will now try  to justify by relating them to the events of my life the last few weeks. Which is sort of like an improv game, and I love that.

Here.We.Go….. Or. Something. Like. That.

From @technicalparent –Diffident: I’m not gonna lie, I had to look this one up. It means something like “hesitant to speak because of lack of self confidence.” Hmmmmmmmm….. HMMMMMMMMM. This may be a stretch, but there have been a few times these last few weeks where I’ve had to test my comfortability-ness. (I believe that if you add “ness” to any word, it makes it correct. Your face.) Not so much in the realms of speaking, but more when it comes to my body. Like the other day, I wore a pair of pants that were way to big. I couldn’t even walk without my pants falling down and that wasn’t cool. I’m pretty sure tens of people saw my panties. And then just this Monday I made the mistake of wearing a shirt that was too big without a tanktop. I had to tuck the sleeves around my bra straps. In my office. Because I’m classy like that. But none of those compare to the fact that the entire nation of campers saw me in all my glory when I decided to sleep in a tent, in the nude, with the flap open, on 4th of July weekend. Just trying to serve my country, Yanno.

From @KidtoGrownUp– Swizzle Stick: I’m not sure what that means but I’m assuming you mean that stick that makes my car go. Right? Actually I have had some issues with that lately. For the last three years or so I’ve had to have a screw driver in the hole just to get my car to get out of park. The other day I couldn’t get it in the hole. It just… wouldn’t go in. Turns out there was a bobby pin stuck in there.

BAHAHAHA. This is actually a true story.

From @SamtheMailman (AKA my white trash twitter hub) Noodles: I can’t eat them. I don’t do well with bread at all. I’m pretty sure I’m allergic. But I absolutely love them. So last week I decided to go ahead and splurge on some spicy korean ramen dish at Pei Wei. It wasn’t great so I added about 2 cups of Rooster sauce. I still can’t sit right.

From @MrCondescending– Nocturnal: That is precisely what I’ve been for the last few months. Only, unfortunately, I’ve also had to be Dayturnal- which doesn’t make day- life very fun. I’ve always been a little bit nocturnal but I’m usually at least a little productive in the wee hours of the night. It doesn’t really affect me until I’m driving though, so no biggie- unless your one of the million people driving in Dallas during rush hour.

From @Leowuzhere Spatchula– hmmm Well I basically eat eggs everyday so I use a “spatula.” But Spatchula.. That sounds like something spanish. I think that is what I shall call the corn that I have on my right toe. I suppose I can make that relevant to my last few weeks because that thing is UGGGLEEEE.

From @KarisaTellsAll Anesthesize: Just last night I took some Benadryl at about 1AM. I was definitely anesthesized. And felt like I drank a 12 pack this morning. In reality, I only had like 4 beers. Not cool Benadryl, not cool.

From @Technicalparent — Spelunking: While I did find a few alternative meanings for this word in the Urban dictionary, I’m gonna go with the actual meaning. Cave diving. Right? I cleaned out my car a couple weeks ago. I found about 30 dollars in quarters, 14 french fries, my glasses with one arm broken off, and about 3 pairs of panties. I have no idea why they are in my car.

From @hellofrancy Attraction: I only mention boys on my site for 3 reasons. A. They are douchenozzles from the present and need to be outed B. They are douchenozzles from the past and I can laugh about my time with them. Or C. I’m kinda smitten, but I don’t like to do that much. But I can always erase this so yes, I’m a but of a smitten pussycat, as the foreign might say. Besides that, I’ve also realized I have an attraction to brussell sprouts, which is quite surprising since I’ve spent my entire life making vomiting noises anytime I hear the word. I have also realized that cops still have an attraction to me. The other day I got a warning, because it seems that walking on a street is now illegal in Texas.

From @NickSilly Sailboat: I had a discussion about sailboats the other day. They seem like the worst kind of boating ever. Too much work.

From @Tequila_K –(1st choice) Karaoke: I have had a seriously lack of karaoke in my life the last few weeks.. but I’ve been thinking seriously about all the songs I want to sing in the near future.  If I don’t find someone to sing “Paradise By the Dashboard Light” with me in the next two weeks then I will eat raw chicken.

From @Tequila_K –(Second Choice) Tequila: My roommate LA introduced me to my new favorite drink evah! It’s called a Paloma. It’s grapefruit juice, tequila, soda, salt and lime… and it is the most refreshing thing that has ever hit my lips. Do it.

From @Tequila_K– (Put em’ Together) TequilaKaraoke: I hope this doesn’t offend you, but I know just what happens to me when I combine the two. You see, once I get a little bit of tequila in me, I will use absolutely anything as a microphone. And if I happen to be gettin it on? ….. crickets….. get it? Yeah, that’s what I call tequila karaoke. In the last few weeks though? No comment.

From @JeneyPeney (via facebook) Snorkel: Come on! Let’s refer to spelunkering. I could do so much with this, but I’m not gonna go there. And also I’m tired.

From @jpryan06 Persnickity: While urban dictionary tells me that “persnickity” can mean making out, I also happen to have looked up know that it can mean being nit picky, which I rarely am. You may be aware that I am one of the least nit picky people in the world. In fact, I probably won’t even spell check this mother before I hit publish. I have realized, that dating someone- makes me a little more conscious of the details when it comes to my body. I still haven’t mastered being lady like,and I most likely never will, but I have seriously put a major effort into shaving my legs, plucking my eyebrows, and cupping my hand over my chin when I notice I have a hair growing out of it. Being a “lady” is a lot of work.

From Eric via Facebook: Grease: I may have put a minor effort into being more lady like, but I still have a lot of that shiz in my hair. Nothing baby powder can’t fix though. Also, it’s the word.

From my HS Dance Teacher–Booger: Still hate them.

From JRoberts via facebook– Ointment: I haven’t used any. I have, started using under eyecream, which is sort of an ointment.

From @NickSilly Providential: I had to look this one up too. I’ve always been one to spout out my “beliefs” of fate, and how the universe works in mysterious ways, because I’ve always wanted to believe in those things, but really haven’t… I’ve even been known to bust out some Tarot cards in your face. Though I admit now that I completely bullshit my way through reading (kind of like I did here,) but I dunno. I keep finding myself thinking that things work out for a reason. I’ve been having all these weird dreams that I’m not going to go into, but it all seems to mean something. Bah. I’m tipsy. And probably going to erase this entire post. Mostly I’m hoping that Providential will work it’s ways on me and my neighbor will knock on my door with a giant bowl of hummus.

A girl can dream right?

I’ll see you sooner than later! Have a great weekend!

It’s so good to hear from you and I truly hope you don’t mind that I’m sharing my response to your email with the world. And by world, of course,  I mean the few people who are still reading after my recent blog- hiatus. You mentioned you enjoyed the blog, and though I know you may have just been being nice, I figured I would use this opportunity to update anyone who wants to hear a summary happening the last 10 years of my life. I really enjoyed your email and I’m  glad to hear you’re doing well. I hope you don’t think it’s rude that I’m not responding much to your own life adventures, but I’ll do that in another correspondence.

TEN YEARS. It’s crazy that it’s been that long, by the way. Let’s see, when we last talked I was deep in the throws of sorority life in college. Although I remained active in my sorority most of my college years, I would definitely say that, for the most part- I wasn’t very “active.” I enjoyed making friends who were very different from myself, and I feel that the people I met in college have allowed me to grow and change in ways that I never imagined.  I was still a dance/theater major back when we last spoke, and that didn’t last very long either-which is one of my major regrets in life thus far. At the time though, it was right to quit. I switched to journalism, then advertising, then Radio/TV/Film, all along picking up a ridiculous amount of English electives, mostly because the professors were the cutest. There was one named Dr. Cox who taught several creative writing classes who I was especially smitten with. I blame my eventual English Composition major on him.

I probably look quite similar to the way I looked in high school, but what you may or may not know is that the majority of the time that we have not spoken I’ve gone through many physical changes. For one, I went through a stage where I was constantly dying my hair. The worst was a Ozzie-Osbourne-esgue bright red tip stage, which I still have an odd affection for. Mostly though, after I quit dancing, I continued on with a diet of primarily cheese, Taco Bueno, Keystone Light and stuffed Tortellini which eventually caused me to gain a few pounds. And by a few pounds, I mean I eventually tipped the scale at 240 lbs. After a few years of being completely content with my status as “the funny girl” and becoming very close to being a contestant on “The Biggest Loser,” I eventually decided it was time to change my ways. I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable with my body, but I’m damn sure intent on trying to be as happy with myself as possible.

Along with an ever changing interest in school subjects and a variety body sizes, I gained quite an array of passions and went through many stages over the years. Some have been  fleeting and some have managed to remain (sometimes begrudgingly) as a staple in my life even now. Just to name a few, over the years I’ve been able to describe myself as: A Crossword junkie; an NSYNC fan-gal; A reader of every horror novel ever written; an adderol addict; a raging drunk; a wino; a girl who decopauges every wooden surface in site; a film junkie; a really bad poet; an obsessive journal writer, a scrapbooker; a collector of quotes; a host small comedy radio show; an insomniac; a 6 month obsessionator of writing a tv pilot only to lose the zip drive that it was saved on; a rat owner; a person who will complete any dare;  a person who quickly lost interest in writing a tv pilot once all her hard work was lost; a person who got high and made up ridiculous games; web site developer in the least technical sense possible; a music lover; a person obsessed with watching every comedy show ever made; a dance teacher; a loan officer; an insurance broker; a dreamer; a comedian;  John Cusack’s girlfriend (unbeknownst to him); and of course, a blogger. I could go on forever, but it seems I’ve already accomplished half of that so I’ll stop now.

There are, of course some things that haven’t changed. I still seem to find a way to get myself into the most ridiculous situations, which is an affliction that I have a love/hate relationship with. I’m still loud,yet shy. I still love to be the center of attention yet am extremely private about certain aspects of my life. I still love to meet new people and am a constant student of socialogy. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, and I’m ok with that.

More than anything, like you- I still have an incredible passion for performance and writing. After I quit dancing and theater, I took up improv comedy, partially because my heroes in life have always been Steve Martin and Robin Williams, and partially because I missed performing and comedy seemed to be the most practical venue for a girl of a bigger size. Although I recently haven’t been overly active in performing, it’s something that I think that I’ll always do in some venue or another. I’m very interested in eventually getting back into theater, giving stand-up a go, and attempting writing for every venue possible. Really I want to try anything once, and you my friend – are a great inspiration in that respect, so thank you for that!

When it comes to romance and all that jazz, I think we’re on the same page, or at least the same chapter. I’ve never really given settling down much of a thought -mostly because I am an incredibly selfish person and want to do so many things in my life, none which (at least at this point of time) remotely involve children, staying in one place for long, or require a ”career” that holds any sort of financial stability. That, and  I hold a tragic combination of romantic ideals. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, but over the years I’ve gained just enough realism watched enough movies to fear that if I ever find that perfect romance, it will somehow end in tragedy. But I guess that’s the cynic in me talking… Or maybe just my imagination. Either way, I’ve found myself in a long pattern of falling for boys whom I have absolutely no connection with, but who I find are “interesting,” in one way or another. But now though? Who knows.  I guess I’m still hopeful. Maybe they aren’t all douchengoyles afterall.

Which brings me back here to this little neglected place on the interwebs, where for nearly a year now I have been sharing with the world intimate details of my uninteresting life. I’ve recently been taking a much needed blog-break and have been spending a little time living life, catching up with old friends,  and taking chances. I won’t be giving the blog up anytime soon, or ever probably, because more than anything else over the last ten years, this blog has given me a venue to write openly, meet new people, reflect upon my life, and learn more about myself.

I’m really sorry that we lost touch and that my evil roommate never gave me the message about housesitting, but lets (NONE OF YOU) be strangers now!

Thanks for sticking with me through this incredibly long-winded update, and I’ll be talking with all of you soon!

Carissa (slightly less than when I started this blog) Jaded