So here's the thing...

Yesterday as I was driving somewhere I thought to myself "I don't want to graduate and still be fat." There. I said it. I am fat. It's not something new to me and it isn't something that the world didn't know, but there is power in actually saying it out loud. Right?

So something's got to give. Way back in 2002 when I graduated with my masters I was in really good shape; probably the best shape of my life. I was working full-time and taking two classes a semester. I was running A LOT and would go to Curves several times a week with Katie and I think that I may have been dabbling with Weight Watchers at that point, too.

I am almost ten years older now and I know full well that if I don't get this under control NOW I never will. I am almost a year post-pulmonary embolism and when I look at my life I can't say that I take any better care of myself now than I did then with one expect ion - I can no longer take oral contraceptives, which is completely and totally fine with me because I always felt like I was poisoning my body anyway. And I was.

I don't drink enough water. I don't eat enough protein. I eat FAR too much sugar and carbohydrates. Actually, let me just put this out there, too. I am addicted to food, particularly sugar and sweets. A woman across the street was recently released from rehab for crack addiction and I kind of now how she feels. My crack is ice cream.

So let me say it now. I will not graduate fat. When I walk across the stage to receive my degree I will be PHat not Fat (get it? PHat....PhD....get it??). So today changes things today is the day. Not tomorrow. Not Tuesday. Not the first day of September. It is time for me to be accountable to myself and it isn't funny anymore.

So, much like I did back in 2006 I will be journaling my progress and actions in beating this food addiction. I can do this. And you can help support me.

Eeegads!

It's been a few minutes since I've blogged. Ooops. Several weeks (months?) ago I decided that I needed a better camera so that I could be a more effective blogger. I had been working on some projects and wanted to be able to share, but my little camera just wasn't working for me. Sooooo.....I invested in a new Nikon CoolPix 500 or something like that. Want to see what I've been up to this summer?

Good.

Because that was the point of getting the new camera! I will upload a few pictures, but the best part of the summer is coming up! I have a friend getting married in Cape May NJ in two weeks and I can't wait to be able to snap a few pictures of that lovely event! Woo hoo!

I can't go through the whole summer, but I can hit some highlights.

First, there was camping over the July 4th weekend with Katie and Cristin (and their husbands and girls!) and then camping with Mom, Jeff, Andrew, Nanny, and Bompa!


See that gorgeous girl? That's Olivia (aka Olive!)


And here is Emma, older sister to Oliva!


Meet Emily. She's a nut!


And here is little Miss Amelia. She's Emily's pesky little sister!

The following weekend was the Corn Hill Festival. My favorite "booth" was the farm market stand. Here's what they offered.




That's going to have to be it for now. I must get some things accomplished, but more pictures coming later! Oooh yeah!

Sending Libby to the Rainbow Bridge

Seven years ago this amazing, gorgeous yellow lab entered our lives. Wandering and lost, she was found and listed on Petfinder.com. My father and I went to pick her up and she lived with him for a brief time. Upon realizing that his was not the best home for her, Libby came to live with me and my young chocolate lab, Maggie. Maggie and Libby were great friends. Riding together, swimming together, playing together. They offered each other companionship and a playmate while I was away at work.

My mom and her husband, Jeff agreed to give Libby a forever home. She came to live with them and grew as a dog and companion. Her gentle spirit, dark, loving eyes, and old soul shined through every day. She was silly and serious all at the same time. Always patient except for with puppy antics.

I lost my Maggie when she was young, just four and a half years old to kidney failure. Libby mourned her loss and would jump in the Jeep looking for her when I came to visit my mom and Jeff. All of this time Libby has carried around a pink rabbit that was Maggie's. She took it with her on walks, out to the lawn, and to bed at night. I liked to believe that it was her way of remembering Maggie.

Some people say "It's just a dog." To me, that's like saying "It's just a kid." Dogs enrich our lives and show us the uncompromising and unwanting love that people often fail to show. They show us what it means to be a good "person." Always there, always listening more than they are talking, always willing to play, stretching first thing in the morning, and waiting so patiently for the person they love to come home. Greetings are full of love and life, and for me always include some "gift" that Belle (my 4 year old black lab) meets me at the door with. They aren't proud and they don't take themselves too seriously. They smile. They roll in the grass. They do what feels good in their soul. Without fail, they bring us enduring love.

Losing a dog is one of the most painful things a human can experience. The loss and loneliness that comes with sending them to the rainbow bridge is something I can't describe other than to say it's a sudden emptiness. The days that were once filled with routine and tennis balls and swims in the river are replaced by days spent tidying up the house and finding parts of your lives together; the bowl laying in the entry or the favorite toy out in the lawn.

Today we will say goodbye to our dear friend Libby. Unwavering in her love for her humans and so very brave until the very end. My heart will ache for you, but I have to have faith that Maggie will meet you and bring you with her. I am not a woman of deep faith, but I have to believe that beautiful souls such as those of Maggie and Libby don't just evaporate with the passing of a body. They endure and come back to us in a new body, as a new companion.

And so I will wait for your return, Ms. Libby Lou. You are loved to the moon and beyond. I am so honored to have been a part of your life. You have brought us endless joy, and now at this time you will bring us deep, deep sorrow. We don't cry for you. We cry for us and the hole that we will have to work to patch in our hearts.

You are my favorite yellow lab ever.

Love to you, sweet girl.

Run free and enjoy the sunshine on your face.

Out of the blue...

Sometimes it just comes right out of the blue and the *whap* tears are streaming down my face and I am remembering my incredible girl Maggie (Happy Valley Maggie M'eh?). It was four years ago this week that I had to let her go. Four years ago that she was so sick and so tired and so amazing.

Maggie was my first dog on my own. My mom told me not to get a dog, but I am a strong, willed independent kind of girl and I wanted one. My landlords said yes and it was game on. The weekend before Maggie came to be mine, I was in Canada with my (now ex) boyfriend, Brian. Brian and I had gone to a dog show and it just happened to be showing the sporting breeds, specifically golden retrievers. I love goldens, but we had always had labs and I loved them, too.

The next Monday I asked Brian which he preferred, a lab or a golden. Brian said he wanted a golden; we got a lab. I looked in the newspaper to see what was available (I was young, naive, and didn't really understand the consequences of backyard breeding at that time). I called a number and was set to go see two female chocolates that afternoon. When I went into the house I was greeted by two, small, furry, beautiful chocolate girls. One was small and shy, the other robust and outgoing. Immediately, the larger of the two latched onto my shoe laces and started tugging. I decided at that moment I didn't want that one. I kept trying to push her away to bond with the smaller, more docile pup. It didn't work. The big one kept coming to me and eventually she was riding home on my lap across country roads.

Maggie went through many name changes prior to settling on "Maggie." She was Mocha, Godiva, Daisy and god only knows what else. I didn't want to name her Maggie, but it's what stuck. She was the perfect Maggie.

Mags loved almost everyone she came in contact with, but like most labs she was a great judge of character. She steered clear of questionable people, but freely loved those she trusted. Maggie loved me, but would have left me in a second. She was secure in herself and would wander far away sometimes as I hid behind a tree trying to teach her a lesson. She always came back, but I wasn't always sure that she would.

I loved her so much and was heartbroken when I found out she was suffering from kidney failure. She was just four and a half when I had to make the decisions to let her go. She went so gracefully and calmly, partly because she just felt so miserable, but mostly because it was just who she was.

Maggie rests on my grandparents hill and is overlooked by a St. Francis statue. Each time I visit my grandparents I can see the statue from the dining room table. I've often thought it might be time to bring the statue home with me, but I just can't bring myself to do it. It belongs to Maggie and it's where it needs to stay.

Today, I have Belle who is an amazing and loyal girl. She is so different from Mags in almost every way. She's shorter and wider and she doesn't retrieve. She is so loyal to me and sticks close to my side. My dad thinks she would go with anyone, but I beg to differ. She doesn't let me out of her sight. I love her so so much and look forward to nice long, healthy partnership with her.

There is just no love like that from a labrador.

God speed, Mags.

A new name and a new look.

This weekend just flew by. I'm glad I have tomorrow to recoup! (I know.... I know.... Get a job.)

The weather has been simply miserable. The grass is wet and the mud is soggy; both are conditions Belle loves. We've not been to the park in a week because I know the river will be swift and dirty. Every inch of her will be covered in mud and dirt and that doesn't go well in the cream interior of my little Sue-bee. Who thought it was a good idea to get a light colored interior with a black, usually wet and mud covered dog? I don't know what I was thinking. It won't happen again!

Anyway, to show Belle some extra love I've been making all of her dog treats from scratch. The vet said she needed to lose ten pounds of "chub" so I've been really paying attention to what's been going into her yapper. She especially loves Snickerdoodle Poodle Poos (and so does my Dad, but that's another story!), but tonight she's getting Belle's PBO's (peanut butter oatmeal - I just made that up in case I start a dog treat business some day. *ahem*). Anyway, she was showing some signs of a wheat allergy (licking paws, scratchy skin) so I decided to eliminate it as much as possible. All of her treats arre now made with ingredients such as oat and brown rice flour, oatmeal, safflower oil, honey (from the Rochester farmer's market!), molasses, peanut butter, dried cranberries, flax seed, carob chips....and I try to use organic and all natural.

Why go the extra mile for a dog? I mean, she's just a dog, right? Here's the thing. Belle gives me this amazing, unconditional love. She makes me get out of bed. She makes me take walks. She makes me leave my desk after writing for three or four hours at a stretch. She always has something in her mouth when she greets me at the door, and if she doesn't she runs and gets something before she'll come to me. It's like she brings me a gift every time I come home. She's funny and she's sweet and she protects me. She's worth the extra mile.

Much like George's, Labs are prone to chubbiness. Every pound that she is overweight shortens her lifespan and let's face it; dogs don't live nearly long enough. it's part of the heartbreak that comes with being owned by such an amazing creature. Yes, I said "owned" by a dog. She owns me as much as I own her. She's amazing.

I've always said that I hoped that I could find love in a human like the love of a dog. Maybe it's why I am still single. I'm not sure any person is that selfless or unconditional.

Love you, Belle George!

Bed love.

I love mornings. And I love my bedroom.

I never thought I would hear those words pass my lips, but mornings have become the favorite part of my day. We've settled into a nice routine since I've been unemployed and I know it is going to be very difficult to train myself out of these habits.

Before my mom came to visit for Mother's Day weekend I did some serious cleaning/rearranging/organizing/getting rid of stuff. My apartment was filled with clutter and stuff I thought I absolutely needed. I realized at some point that those things were absolutely not needed. I filled a large black garden-type garbage bag and a comforter bag full of things to leave my home. It felt good to let things go. I've worked to keep it organized and clean and it feels so good to wake up to a clean kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, office area, but I digress...

So each morning I wake up in a bed that I loooooove. It is like a giant cloud and I've been told more than once that I put together a nice bed. So what's the scoop?

Layer 1 - a faux featherbed (a luxury in itself). My great-grandmother always had feather beds and I've had an ongoing love affair with them. When I moved from Geneva from Rochester it was time to let the other feather bed go since it had definitely seen better days. Mom gave me this new (faux) feather bed for Christmas and it is loftier and more sumptuous than the feathers were. It's love.

Layer 2: Good sheets from TJ Maxx. I used to hate it when Mom dragged me to TJ Maxx, because I thought it was just a bunch of crap. I can't stand picking through the clothes, but the TJ Maxx in Canandaigua is also a Home Goods and is heaven. It's the best one around and well worth the drive. Anyway, I have picked up a few pairs of 400 thread count sheets there and they just feel marvelous.

Layer 3: A lightweight down comforter from Ikea with duvet. Ikea sells a whole line of different weight down comforters for a very reasonable price. The problem is finding an Ikea close enough! This one was picked up on a Schools Attuned mission in Long Island last year. A great purchase, indeed!

Layer 4: A down conforter with a Shabby Chic duvet cover. I've bought a lot of bedding over the years, but this is definitely my favorite. The duvet makes it so easy to wash regularly and get rid of animal hair. There's nothing better than clean sheets, clean duvet and a feather bed.

Layer 5 : So, I know some of you are absolutely sweltering by now, but I love the heavy weight of blankets! So layer 5 is a cotton quilt, also from the Shabby Chic line at Target. I love love love this quilt. I've tried to replace it, but I just can't. The color is beautiful and soothing.

I reoriented my bed (which entails taking it completely apart, including the side rails) by turning it 90 degrees from how it was originally positioned, allowing it to face a window and let more light in. I know some of you prefer to sleep in a bat cave, but I haven't found that extra light really bothers me in the morning. Actually, the bed has moved twice since I moved here (it was originally in the loft space) and I like it best this way.

Anyway, I was planning to write about my morning routine, not my thick and sumptuous bed, here you have it.... The morning routine post will have to wait for another day!

Where'd this weather come from?!

Belle is in heeeeeeeeaven!

We just got back from a good play at Ellison Park and she's a tuckered out pup. Passed out cold on the floor snoring. I love her when she's like this.

Sometimes when she is wet and the sun is shining on her undercoat I see hints of chocolate. I'm convinced it's because Maggie is hiding somewhere inside of her. I told Mom the other day that I picked pretty good puppies. She corrected me quickly and said, "MAGGIE picks really good puppies. She's the one who sent you Belle." Oh, Mags. I sure miss you.

I got a little sunshine on my cheeks, too. Hello, freckles! I miss you during the cold winter months. I wish you'd stick around a little longer. And stop fading. I want to keep you forever! When I was little I would have done anything to get rid of those freckles, and now I can't get enough of them. I wish I had a kid picture of me with my freckles, but I can't seem to find one. Argh.

Anyway, here's a cute little picture of a cute little black lab. It's not Belle, but it is what she's doing right now. Life is pretty okay.

Are you Pinterested?

I've found something really cool.

Okay, so there are probably a million others who have found it, too, but it's this super cool, functional, and FUN website called Pinterest. It has changed the way that I surf the web (and I have more time to surf now than I ever had before!)

I love color, ideas, words, pictures....I love to see home design, crafts, things people have accomplished. Pinterest is a place to organize and store it all without bookmarks. Love just one thing on a site? Pin it! Just one picture or quote? Pin it! Then go to your Pinterest site and you can see everything together. I am seeing themes emerge in my style and it's helped to clarify my own design preferences for when I DO finally get a house again. Some day. Some day.

Love cake design? Shots for pictures? Reminders for wedding ideas? Keep it organized on Pinterest.

I am in love. LOVE!

Might as well face it; I'm addicted.

I am.

I'm addicted.

I think about it all the time. I have to have it first thing in the morning. I can't wait until I get my next fix and today, I drove out of my way to get it. And what's even weirder? My pee smells like coffee. It's for sure an addiction.

In all fairness, I do have better things to do than to sniff my ummm.....urine, but I am a health educator by trade and weirdities of the body fascinate me. (See Grossology books) Because I am who I am I googled this phenomenon may occur and it seems that it's something genetic; 1 in 4 are able to smell the odor of coffee in urine. Hey. Don't be jealous I'm gifted and you probably aren't. I also got exactly one copy of Factor V Leiden. Super jealous now, aren't you? Apparently, it means my kidneys are doing their job and getting the caffeine and other coffee delights out of my system. Thanks, kidneys!

I know it's a little late to jump on the Lent train, but I'm shoving coffee off the bus (see how I used two modes of transportation in one bad sentence?) for a week. That's right, folks. An entire week - no coffee.

Goodbye, my true love. Until next week.

Read this post....and then ask me why I'm still single.

(Buy this magnet here!)

Okay, readers. Something just happened that is begging to be blogged about.... And I do mean begging.

Everybody knows that my skin has shriveled into prune-like wrinkles from sitting in the dating pool for so long. (The mere thought of what's swimming around diluted in that pool totally skeeves me out, by the way.) Every once in a while I decide that I should try online dating again (and so does my mom). I've tried them all: Match, Plenty of Fish, Yahoo! Personals, eHarmony, yadda, yadda, friggin' yadda. Most recently I was subscribed to singleseniors.net or something like that thanks to my very loving and concerned mother. I think she thought that after my little blood clot incident that anyone would be better than no one - even if they were 85 years old (I know, Mom. They aren't ALL that old).

So, anyway.

Sometimes curiosity kills the proverbial cat and my wonder gets the best of me. It is at these times that I unhide my profile on Plenty of Fish, a free dating site. I've learned to refer to it as Plenty Offish, because that's mostly what you get. Essentially, you get what you pay for, right? I was heartily reminded why I refer to this site as Plenty Offish tonight.

Last night I felt like it was time to unhide my profile and see what was swimming around in the leach bed of dating. Not a lot of action until this evening.

Last summer I had ONE date with a guy and helped him with an event happening in my neighborhood. That was the extent of our interaction/contact. Actually, I think he asked me out again after the festival and I declined and hadn't heard from him until today.

I just want to share an exchange that just happened via email on the site between the two of us. This is uncensored folks. I can't make this shit up. BTW: Names have been changed to protect the innocent, including mine. I don't want you creepers out there checking out my profile, which oh, by the way reads:

"Fun loving, humorous, wine drinking (sometimes beer too!) female with gassy labrador seeks caring, generous, supportive man who doesn't take himself too seriously. You like to laugh? Me too. Serious conversation? Same here! Wanna hang out and listen to live music next to the lake. OH YEAH!"

If you recognize these words it's probably because you contributed to this dandy dating bait on a Facebook post. You guys are awesome. Okay, for real....here goes:

Captain Douche Bag: hey how have you been?

Me: Hey there!
I've been pretty good. How about you?
Are you in the process of planning for Corn Hill yet? (Corn Hill refers to the Corn Hill Festival)

CDB: Yes I am, how come?

Me: No reason other than it seemed to be successful last year!

CDB: lol ok did you help me at the event? I forget..lol sorry

Me: It's always so reassuring that I leave such an indelible impression on people. ;o)
Yes, I did help....all afternoon, actually. On short notice and as a favor.

CDB: i know i remember now :(
and thank you!

CDB: oooo we met before we had sex.. no i remember! lol

Me: ???
We didn't have sex.

CDB: lol ooooooooooooooo hmmmm why not ? haha

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand END SCENE.


Plenty Offish. Yep. And there you have it.

Fair doesn't mean equal...

At least that's what my BFF Katie tells me (and others).

Yesterday I had a, well.....shall we call it an "incident" on Facebook? It was a stark reminder that fair, indeed, is NOT equal.

I love Facebook as much as the next person. Without it I would have fallen out of touch with so many people I call friends and family. It's been great to see accomplishments and births and new homes and talents and skills of so many of my friends and family. I wouldn't have even known that my cousin's child was born this week had it not been for Facebook. Just sayin'.

As great as it is, it's not always great.

As I was reminded of yesterday.

A friend posted something that was going to happen in their and their significant other's life as a couple. Great! This friend and I have bantered back and forth since we were young and they have always given me shit about football, Penn State, professional things in my life.... Always. Much of the time it is based in sarcasm and can be somewhat sharp. But it's what we did.

Recently, I posted a picture of a poster I presented at a conference in Montreal that had taken a lot of time and effort to complete. Some friends asked me to post a picture, so I did - reluctantly. This person (mentioned above) was the first person to comment on the picture saying, "Is that a typo?" or something along those lines. I felt stinging in my cheeks, because there was a typo on the poster and I knew it. My advisor had strongly recommended that I not have it reprinted because no one would notice at the conference. No big deal. And it wasn't. I doubt that the person mentioned above even read the poster, but felt free to comment anyway. Several of my other friends also commented on the picture, but didn't feel the need to defend or attack the typo comment. Even though it bothered me I didn't mention it and we all moved on in our lives.

Fast forward to yesterday. This is where the story picks up. Yesterday, this typo friend posted the relatively major life event that was going to happen in the context of a relationship that was important to them. I made a teasing comment on par with the typo comment they had made on my conference poster. The manure that followed was straight out of Newfield Central School circa 1989; another person decided they needed to defend the original poster telling the world that my post was "venom" and subsequently posting on her page that I was "toxic" and clearly so unhappy with my life that I couldn't allow anyone else to be happy.

Ummmmm......

Really?

The part that stung? The friend who posted the "typo" comment didn't bother to acknowledge that our friendship was on that level. Ouch. I guess that's what happens when one thinks that their relationship is more important, more valuable, more defendable than someone else's relationship....regardless of what the relationship is. And that's where fair doesn't mean equal, apparently.

In the end, I decided to unfriend the person (who was never really a friend to begin with) for several reasons, but mostly because if they had balls enough to feel comfortable with labeling me as "toxic" when they know nothing about me, my life, or my psyche then their character is not one with which I wish to be associated. And the "typo" poster? I just hid their profile, no longer seeing updates or posts that come from them.

Is it a little thing? Yes. But sometimes the little things sting the most.

My friends could have very easily flamed the typo friend on my post, but they didn't. Why? Because they have faith and confidence that I can manage things on my own.

So, I ask this: In the context of Facebook posts is it our responsibility to flame person B's response to person A's thread? Isn't it the case that person A can delete or comment for themselves? What right do we have to butt in to someone else's post to attack, defame, or belittle person A's friends?

Yeah, I'm a little hurt. Not because I was called "toxic" or because I was accused of spewing "venom," but because someone who posts responses just as sharp and sarcastic wasn't enough of a friend to call off the dogs.

And that's just disappointing.

Deal of the Week

This dress was originally $89.99 at Ann Taylor LOFT. It's a lovely l'il frock, but I wouldn't pay that much for it. Note: It is not that short on me since my legs aren't nearly that long.

It happened to be hanging on the sale rack, all by it's lonesome. It called to me to give it a whirl.

And so I did.

With it's great cut and the airiness of it, I liked it, but not for the price on the rack ($59.99). It was better than the original $89.99, but still not quite there.

So, what did I pay for it?

You mean after the additional 30% off of the sale price?

And the additional 30% off for Friends and Family Week?

And the additional $10 for a snag at the bottom of the hem that even Susan didn't notice?

Hold onto your hats!!

$27.

And that, my friends, is my Deal of the Week!

Making the best of unemployment

I know that I am supposed to be disappointed that I am unemployed. In many circusmtances I would be, but when word came down there would be a "reduction in workforce" due to "cuts in funding" I started praying. Praying that I would be one of the ones who would benefit from the reduction. And for once my prayer worked.

There are a few lessons I've learned while being unemployed, however. The first is that even though spending MUST be curbed, cutting back in the area of toilet paper is not the way to go. Even if I could save $3 by buying cheaper toilet paper, I will never again buy anything other than Cottonelle. It's just not worth it.

Next, I had to resolve the guilt of not getting up and going to a worksite every day. I've since realized that my worksite is upstairs at my writing station. The amount of writing I've completed since being let go has been remarkable. I would have been done with my degree four years ago if I hadn't been working. Okay, probably not really, but whatever....

Today my friend Susan and I met for lunch (Mom tells me I must stop having lunch meetings) and a massage. Don't get angry. Anyone can afford a massage. Here's how...

We went to Brookstone. Yes. Brookstone. You know? The store in the mall with all of the gadgets and the massage chairs? It might be a little ummm....welll....I don't have wrods for what it might be, but we enjoyed ourselves. A lot. Like 20 minutes of massage and a lot of people staring at us.

Have you seen the episode of Modern Family where Claire goes to the mall for a massage? Okay, well, you have to watch a short ad before the clip, but here it is. I had to remind Susan that we did not want to sound like Claire.

So, lesson for the day? Anyone can afford a massage....even when unemployed.