The Real Women vs. the Skinny bitches

Am I the only person mildly irritated by the use of the term "real women" to refer to plus sized women?

I am hearing it more and more, and though I myself am a plus sized woman, I am more offended on behalf of my lovely skinny and average sized sisters.

You see, I've been noticing a pattern lately.  Those of us who are a bit bigger get annoyed with the skinnies, and I've heard (and said, sadly) "that skinny bitch!" more times than I care to enumerate.

We create this divide, as if women who are thin are only thin because they are obsessed with their weight, with their looks.  They eat carrots and work out 16 hours a day.  But us real women?  We don't do that.  We ENJOY life.

Because we feel judged unfairly by "the skinnies" we judge the skinnies unfairly.

But here's the thing:  they are real women too (as far as I know, anyway.  There may be some very realistic human looking robots out there) Over the years, I have learned so much.  I've seen how the daily habits of a lot of women are different that my own.  Like the amazing vegetarian woman I know who competes in approximately 322 marathons a year.  Or my sister in law, who is absolutely gorgeous and petite, who loves eating and having fun, but exercises almost every day for energy, health, and stress relief.  There's the amazing woman I know who beat brain cancer, in large part by clean eating.  Are these women self-obsessed?  Are they vain?  Are they shallow?  No, they are not.  They are STRONG.  They are dedicated to their health. They realized that taking care of your body is one of the best ways to feel good, both mentally and physically.

That is not the say there aren't plenty of skinny women who are awful to overweight women.  I think this trend has been well documented on the internet. All sorts of "fat shaming" examples.  People assuming those of us who are overweight do nothing but sit on the couch, watch movies and stuff our faces with terrible foods.  This isn't an accurate picture either.  In my experience, most women who are overweight lead active, busy, fulfilling lives.  They are often overweight because physical activity/good eating habits aren't really a focus in their lives. In looking at it this way, being overweight stops being some static, unchangeable state of being, but rather a choice to shift the focus in our lives.  

 I think the phrase "I am fat" really affects the way we understand the concept.  For the longest time, in my mind, my "fatness" was a state of being, a thing I couldn't change.  It was not a choice, just a fact.  But as it turns out, most skinny women weren't just magically gifted with skinniness.  They prioritize their health, and make it an integral part of their day.  They work hard at it, they pay attention to what they eat.  The reverse of that is that most overweight women are not just magically overweight.  We have prioritized other things in our life, often eating the most convenient food and not the most nutritious.  We may deal with our emotions by turning to food.  We may have tried to lose weight before, and because we failed, we think its not worth it.  But we are also strong in our own way.  We may be great friends, or good listeners. We're smart and tough.  We have a great sense of humor. We may even be improving our habits, but still be chubby because healthy weight loss doesn't happen overnight. But just like our skinny sisters, our weight and health is to a large extent about choice.  And even though we may feel like thin women have it easier, they are often struggling with body issues just like we are.

 So given that there is no way for us to really understand another woman's relationship with her own body, can't we give each other the benefit of the doubt?  We are all real women.  The skinny women, the chubby women, the women who go fake tanning and get plastic surgery.  The models.  We are all real women doing the best we can. In the end, we all want to feel beautiful, and for each of us, that means something different.  Instead of separating, and making ourselves feel better by putting others down, why can't we lift each other up?  At some point, in coming to terms with my body, I discovered that no matter how hard I tried, I could never hate my body enough to treat it well.  It makes sense, I suppose.  The people in your life you are willing to do the most for are generally the people you love.  And so I decided to love my body.  To accept it as it is, rolls and all.  I decided to make an effort to be healthy, to treat it well, to change my relationship with food.  Similarly, I don't feel like we can ever put other women down enough to feel good about ourselves.  In the wise words of Lindsay Lohan (first time that sentence has ever been uttered anywhere) "Calling someone fat won't make you any skinnier. Calling someone stupid doesn't make you any smarter. Ruining someone's life won't make yours any better. The only thing that you can do in life is solve the problem that's in front of you."Alright, that's from the movie Mean Girls, so it's probably Tina Fey's words, but you get the point. 

Instead of knocking other women down a peg to try and make myself feel better, I like to look at the differences between me and the women in my life as learning opportunities. I don't feel as if I am competing with them, I feel like they strengthen me. Just by seeing what they do well, and how they handle things differently, they help me.  When I am feeling like I don't want to work out, I can channel the strength of the amazing women I know who work out day in and day out. When I am feeling selfish and weak, I can channel the kindness and thoughtfulness of my husband's sister.  When I come to a situation I don't know how to handle, I can stop and think of the women I know who always seem to handle these types of situations best and think "What would _________ do?" 
I draw from their strength, and feel connected to them.

I read a story a while back about an overweight news anchor who had received a letter stating that she wasn't a good role model for young girls (http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/entertainment/2012/10/overweight-tv-anchor-jennifer-livingston-responds-to-bully/) While this is a more vocal example of this sentiment than most, it does seem to be a somewhat prevailing thought that in terms of body image, a woman can't be a role model unless she has it all perfect.

But is a person's weight what really makes them a role model?  Personally, my role models are people that behave a certain way.  People who are not perfect, who are strong, who handle challenges gracefully, who fall and get back up.  I'm pretty sure we don't have an issue with the 300 pound linemen in the NFL being role models, because we see them as strong protectors.  I think female role models can be women of any size or shape who love and accept themselves.  These are the things we should be teaching our daughters.  Not that they must be thin or perfect, but rather, that their body is their own, and it is unique, and they have no reason not to love it.  We should be teaching them healthy habits, not an obsession with the size of their clothes.  Role models should be strong confident women, whose confidence doesn't depend upon a number on a scale.  It's not to say that I necessarily feel like I should be proud that I am overweight.  I am not proud of it.  But just like anything else, it is something in my life that I am working on.  I am proud when I improve my habits, when I work towards leading a healthier life.  I am proud when I wake up every morning and make my fresh veggie juice.  I am proud that I have lost 50 lbs over the last two years, but not because I am ashamed of my body, but instead because that weight loss represents a change in the way I view my body.  Its not like when I lost 75 pounds in six months, spent all my time at the gym, ate crap food but less of it, and even after losing 75 pounds I looked in the mirror and saw nothing but a fatty.  It was unsustainable, and unhealthy.  I've learned so much since then, and even though I weigh more now than I did then, I am actually prouder of the current me. 

I suppose my point in all this is that as women, I think we should be kinder to each other, and more supportive of each others journeys.  In so many ways, we are all dealing with similar issues, just in different ways.  Skinny women don't need to be called fake or bitches.  They can just be skinny.  They are not skinny to make you feel fat.  And to the skinny women, you don't need to call us fat women names either.  You don't have to giggle about the size of our waist, or judge what's in our grocery cart.  I truly believe that I am a stronger person when I draw from the strength of the other women in my life, and I hope that by writing this blog, maybe some of you will look to the women in your life as support.

Happy Friday to you all my friends.  I hope your life is happy, and I hope spring gets here really soon.   

Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cake Copycat Recipe

Good day everyone!

Happy 2014 to you all!  I don't normally use this blog for this sort of stuff (or at all, lately) for recipes, but I figured this would be a good place to share it since I got a lot of requests for info

This cake was fun to make and SO good.  It wasn't too hard and didn't require too much work either.  I scoured the internet to find the one that most closely resembled the actual, and found recipes for separate things that I brought together to make what I thought was the best one.  I hope you enjoy!
                         
                                                                                  

Ingredients:

Cake
1 quart chocolate ice cream softened
1 quart vanilla ice cream softened
1 bottle Smuckers magic shell ((or you can make your own, recipe: http://food52.com/blog/7286-two-ingredient-magic-shell)
24 oreo cookies, filling removed
8-10 ounce jar of chocolate fudge sauce (I used smuckers fudge as it came in a little pouch, so easy to spread over the cake.  You can use whatever you like)

Frosting
1 pint heavy whipping cream
2 tbs sugar
2 tsp vanilla

1. Line two 9 inch cake pans with saran wrap.  Let the ice cream soften to the point that you can scoop the ice cream in and smooth it into a flat layer (You can use more or less ice cream, dependent on how thick you want the cake to be.)  Create the vanilla layer in one pan, the chocolate in the other.  You can obviously use other ice cream flavors if you like.  Instead of chocolate I used the mocha ice cream recipe from Ben & Jerry's recipe book, and it was amazing.   Cover with saran wrap and put in the freezer to firm up.

2.  Remove the filling from your oreos and discard (if it makes you sad to do this, you could build your own DIY double stuff oreos with the filling and the oreos remaining in the package.  I considered it but decided against it.  I now consider it a missed opportunity.)  Crush the oreos until they are in small coarse pieces.

3.  Run some warm water over the bottle of magic shell and shake it..shake it...shake it..shake it like a polaroid picture (sorry, couldn't resist) Once it is well shaken, squeeze it into the oreo crumbs.  Be sure not to squeeze in too much.  You want the crumbs to have the texture of wet sand, but not be too liquidy.  For me this took about 3/4 of the bottle.

4.  Remove the chocolate layer from the pan and place on a plate.  Spread the crunchies over the chocolate layer.  Warm the fudge slightly to make it spreadable, but do not warm it too much.  Remove the vanilla layer from the pan and place on plate.  spread the fudge over the top of the vanilla layer. Take the vanilla layer and place it on the chocolate layer, chocolate fudge side facing down.   Cover cake in saran wrap and place back in freezer to set.

To make icing:

1. Pour the pint of cream into a chilled bowl.  Add the sugar and vanilla extract.
2. Beat the mixture until it forms stiff peaks.
3.  Remove cake from fridge and frost.

A few notes:

• Obviously, if you have a spring form pan, it is easier to make the cake using that pan, however, I would still let the various layers freeze in between so they hold their shape.  I don't have a springform pan (I'm totally getting one now)  so I used this method to keep the various layers from mixing together too much.  If you do use a spring form pan, grease the pan with butter to make it easy to remove the cake.)
• If you are using homemade ice cream for the bottom layer, make sure it is a nice sturdy one, preferably custard based.  If it's not custard based, use it as the top layer instead (who says the chocolate layer can't be on top?) 

• I ended up not icing my cake and it was still AMAZING.  I will still probably try to make the icing at some point in the future, but if you don't feel like icing it, you certainly don't have to.  I also saw recipes that suggested using a frosting consisting of 1 part cool whip and 1 part ice cream.  
• I tried to post a picture, but for some reason it wasn't working, I'll try again later. Sorry, recipe blog fail.  Just imagine a Dairy Queen cake but even more glorious.  Imagine a fudge crunch layer three inches thick, and the cake being brought to you by George Clooney on a stallion. That should get you through this difficult time. (I've added the picture now but I'm leaving the sentence so those of you who are looking at this after the edit can enjoy the image of George Clooney delivering ice cream cake to you on a stallion)  Anyway, my cake turned out just a smidgen melty, but it's my first attempt, so I wasn't expecting it to be flawless.   I still think some pictures are better than none because they convey the important part-that it is fudgy ice cream-y goodness in a delapidated state of glory. 
  
  

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!  Take care! 
                        
                                         

Twilight (I swear this won't be a rant about the Vampire books)

Hello my friends!  I hope as you read this particular set of musings that you find yourself safe and content.

This is truly my favorite time of day, particularly in the summer.  I'll avoid the cliches about the sounds of suburban children being called inside, but it really is a special time of day.  The time where we shift from drive into neutral, where we make the unspoken agreement that  anything else that needs to be done is just going to have to wait until tomorrow.  Where we get to rest, relax, prepare for the next day.  

Too often, my twilight is spent in front of the TV, or doing laundry, or frantically attacking some project that seems absolutely essential but really isn't.  Many nights, I go from full speed to shut down, from constantly trying to accomplish something to crashing.  There's no in between, no preparing for the next day, no time taken to just enjoy the present moments.  

It's not because I'm particularly important.  This isn't one of those "I'm so busy, I need to take time to stop and smell the roses" blog posts.  Rather, it's more a contemplation on WHY I feel the need to be so busy.  Why is it essential that I pull every weed in my front lawn?  Why do I need to be checking my work e-mail after I leave work?  Why can't I just be satisfied that I've done enough, and stop before I'm too exhausted to enjoy the rest of my evening?

As I thought about it, I was struck lately by how little quiet there is in my life.  There are so few moments when there's no TV, no computer, no music to distract me.  Constantly my head is being filled with other peoples words and thoughts.  Sure, I think.  A lot.  All the time.   But when do I take time to drown out all the other noise and words and thoughts to listen to my own?  

There are a lot of things going on in my life right now that are...scary.  Consuming my thoughts.  I guess I'll just come out and say it, for those of you that don't know: I'm getting laid off next month.  With this news comes a lot of different feelings-the ones you expect-fear, anger, powerlessness, self doubt.  And then...the ones you don't expect, the ones that keep your mind racing,  the ones that immediately assume that the unemployment path can only end with you sleeping in a makeshift cardboard box shelter.  The ones that think you're going to end up being a cashier at Dick's Sporting Goods again.  

However, I suppose that's the first stage of unemployment grief.  With the next stage, at least for me, came hopefulness.  The job I've had for the last five years has been such a gift in so many ways.  I've truly come into my own.  I've learned the value of self motivation, I've learned the things I'm good at, I've taken risks, I've started to really understand the concept of integrity, I've learned to stop telling myself I can't do things, and just try.  I've really grown up.  This job has been very rewarding, and to some extent, I started to look forward to taking this experience out for a spin.  I wrote my resume and thought....you should hire that girl!  I started to really think "you know, I can really be an asset somewhere." I started to think that so often, we go through life, just doing what we do because it's what we've always done.  This is my opportunity to evaluate where I am in life, and decide if it's where I want to be.  Perhaps it's time for a change!  

I'm still mostly in that phase, but honestly, it's been much rougher that I thought it would be.  I am positive, and want to be positive, but I suppose no one feels positive all of the time.  Whenever I've told someone about my job, a lot of times I get, "Don't worry, you're smart."  While I appreciate the sentiment, I have not yet found a job posting that says "Seeking smart person."  Moreover, it seems there are a whole lot of not so smart people who are very gainfully employed.  I don't mean to ramble on about this too much, but I suppose it's been on my mind, and so it wormed its way into this post.  

In the end, I suppose what I am getting at is I have let this range of crazy emotions take over my life.  I have let it cause petty fights with my husband over stupid things.  I have let it keep me isolated from my friends and family.  I have let it keep me from taking proper care of myself.  And all because I didn't allow myself the time and space to just accept it and move on.  All because I was so busy freaking out about all the bad things that might happen, with the projects I just HAD to do, that I didn't pay attention.

But in this quiet twilight, in the face of the big storm that's about to hit, I am finally finding peace.  In sitting in the waning light, I decided to enjoy the twilight of this chapter of my life.  I have loved working where I am and I am truly grateful for the opportunity I have had to work with amazing people, in a beautiful place, and be given the opportunity to grow.  I suppose it's easier to be calm, as I have a job prospect that looks like it's probably going to happen, but in this particular twilight, I have decided not to let fear and circumstance run my life, or determine my happiness.  I choose to be happy or be miserable.  And I am going to choose to be happy.  

I suppose it's a cliche, but my wedding day was the most joyful day of my life.  I felt...truly beautiful.  It was the first day I can remember in my life that I did not feel self conscious.  I finally got out of my head and just experienced the day. Sometimes I feel like people don't really get what makes Paul and I tick as a couple, but that day, I felt like we got to share it with everyone.  It sounds cheesy, but all around me, all I felt was love.  From Paul, from my family and friends.  When I look back to that day, I realize that while I was happy because I was marrying a truly remarkable man, I was also happy because I was surrounded by the love and support of my friends and family.  It was all concentrated into one place, and I just felt it in the air.   While I suppose I can't be surrounded by that in such a literal way every day, I can carry it with me and draw strength from it.  When I'm feeling nuts or angry, I can  remember how hard the people around me worked to help make it happen, how much insanity they put up with in the weeks leading to the wedding.  I can listen to the cellist play "In My Life" and remember that my amazing husband loves me, and that we have so many adventures ahead of us.  I can remember that no matter what conflict I am going through, I have been lucky enough to experience truly perfect moments.

Twilight seems to be a theme in my life right now.  The twilight of my twenties, the twilight of my job, the twilight of graduate school.  I hope that writing and revisiting this blog entry will help me to remember to take time to enjoy these twilights. To use this time to revel in the memory of the joy these experiences have brought me, and decide how I'll use them moving forward.  

Be well, my friends.  I hope to be posting much more regularly from now on.  Hopefully my future posts will be a bit more coherent :)    

On settling

Hello friends!

I hope you all are doing well.  It's been quite a while since I've posted.  I took on a few too many things over the last few months, so my free minutes have been spent watching Gilmore Girl reruns and weeping into bowls of Crispix.   Just kidding.  Sort of.  Anyway, I hope you all had a great Christmas.  I'm feeling incredibly grateful to have some time to relax, sleep late, read books, and discover what percentage of the day my dogs spend licking themselves in inappropriate places (I'd say about 63%)

I've been thinking a lot lately about writing, and as an extension, about who I am.  You see, I've had the writers block that just won't quit.  I have a thesis that I desperately need to work on if I ever hope to finish graduate school, and when I sit down to write, I find myself completely blanking out.

I've used excuses...I'm busy, my classes have been in a different concentration, I will wait until after _________, but the truth is....I am just blocked.  I'm so terrified that what I'm going to say is trite or stupid or cliched, that I just end up saying nothing....I have about a dozen separate documents, all with a paragraph or page written...little puzzle pieces of thought, but from about sixteen different puzzles.


So of course, as an obsessive thinker and analyzer, I started trying to figure out where the block is coming from.  What do I hope to accomplish with my writing?  What do I want to say?  Why the hell do I even do it?  I thought about when I started writing.  I was young...elementary school.  Any of my siblings can attest to the fact that I was obsessed with reading.  One summer I was grounded, the terms of the grounding were that I was only allowed to read one hour a day.  In an act of ferocious defiance, I just smuggled paperbacks outside in the elastic waistband of my shorts and sat in the church parking lot down the road enjoying my Sweet Valley High.

In elementary school, I started writing.  I wrote poems, songs about the Browns and bible stories, mediocre stories.  I can't remember why I started, but I can remember why I continued.  I loved hearing people tell me they thought it was good.  I loved feeling smart and wise.  I liked feeling like people heard me.  I felt the person I was in real life didn't match who I was inside, and writing helped bridge that gap.

And sadly, twenty years later, I wonder if that is still what my writing is about.  A passive declaration of identity.  An attempt to prove that I am smart, and funny, that there's more to me than what meets the eye.  I recently read through a story I had written and crossed out all the humor I'd included that did nothing to enhance the story.  It cut the story down by 2 pages.   This made me really re-think my writing.  Maybe I'm not as good as I've always been told.  Maybe I am the writer equivalent of the American Idol contestant who sounds like a strangled cat but thinks they are a star because no one has ever had the courage to tell them they aren't good.  Maybe all these stories have just been a practice in intellectual masturbation, saying nothing new or interesting.

I suppose this is all a bit melodramatic, and self pity is not really what I'm getting at.  The fact of the matter is, there are a lot of the people that have the ability to write technically well.  They have an engaging voice, use lovely metaphors, weave a compelling story with their words.  But in my opinion a writer should have something to SAY.  If you are not writing because you have something to say, then why are you?  And I do have things to say.  I feel like I have a unique perspective, a sense of insight that is mine and mine alone.   I connect with other writers, I love reading, I sometimes go through my book collection looking for the beautiful sentences I have highlighted, just because a well written sentence inspires me.  Whatever narcissistic reasons I may have for being a writer, I genuinely feel like it's what I want to do.

But I think what's crippling me is fear.  As in life, sometimes it's hard to just say...aww hell.  Who cares what people think?  I'm going to do what I want.  Most people who know me would describe me as scatterbrained, habitually late, and a procrastinator.  Over the past two years, I have been earnestly working to overcome some of these things-I've spent my time organizing, cleaning, making lists.  I've worked on focusing on tasks at work, on embracing my habits and working around them.  I've worked on controlling impulses.  I've tried to be more practical.  My classes that I am taking are in a concentration to further the career I have.  I've worked hard to keep my house clean, to follow through on tasks.

But though these things have helped me to be more successful, I wonder if they've made me happier?  Perhaps there is a relationship between me being more organized and pragmatic and my writer's block.  On the outside looking in, my life is better than it used to be.  I'm a little skinnier, my house is cleaner, I got a promotion, I'm getting married in March.  But the truth is there's a part of me that thrives on the disorder I've lived in.  A part of me that loves frantically finishing things just before the deadline. A part of me that HATES that I've been taking a linguistics class that has dissected language, painted it as merely a formulaic series of grunts and noises as opposed to a living breathing reflection of who we are and what is important to us.   A part of me that is disgusted by the fact that there have been times I've passed up taking the time to write because I thought it was more important to dust or do laundry.

I suppose most people go through this stage, where they try desperately to hang on to their young, creative, idealistic self while trying to be a grown up.  But I don't want to just coast through life on autopilot, letting circumstance drive my experiences, as opposed to letting me drive my circumstances.

So often, when we hear of the term "settling" we are referring to settling in terms of a choice of significant other.  Why don't we ever talk about settling for who we are?  In our society, it's not okay to choose a mate who isn't deemed worthy, but it's somehow okay to accept less than we ourselves are capable of for the sake of being responsible.  But I reject that.  I don't want to settle for being less than I know I'm capable of.  Though I have self doubt, I know that I have more to give the world than a clean house and a biweekly newsletter.  It seems to me that people who come to the end of their lives with regret don't do so because they chose to be mediocre, they do so because they went through life making one decision at a time, each choice binding them tighter and tighter to the life they've lived, to the point that they get to a place that they think it's too late to change.  I don't want to do that. Though I'm not always positive that I'm a great writer, I know that I have so much to say.  And so I am rededicating myself to being a writer.  I can still be good at my job, and more organized, but I am not going to let that squelch who I am and what's important to me. I'm going to make my goals a priority, not an afterthought.  Being a writer may not be practical, I may never make a living at it, I may never be successful. But none of that should be the basis of my decision to write or not write.  I refuse to settle for less than I can be.  I can accept that I am imperfect, but I can not accept mediocrity by default.

Well I suppose I should wrap this up, I've been rambling for quite a while.   I hope to be posting more often, but even if not on here, I will be writing every day.

Happy New Year my friends.

It's been too long, so here is a hodge podge of ridiculousness

Hello!

I do apologize that it's been so long.  Even though I love to write, I do recognize that there are times in life where it is more important to do than it is to observe and report.  Such has been the state of my life over the last few weeks.

In a recent conversation with my ever so wise brother Jarrod, we discussed our shared need to put on a good front for everyone.  We aren't quite comfortable with putting our bad things out there, so when things aren't going great, we retreat, hide under a rock, and emerge when things are better.

Apparently I act similarly as a blogger.  If my message can't be upbeat and positive, then I just keep that message to myself.  So alas, I am back to my positive self, and back to blogging. While I am slightly disappointed in myself for falling into this familiar pattern of hiding from the world, I have learned a lot.  What I have realized in this little respite is...nothing horrible has happened over the past few weeks. I still have my job.  I still have my health (except for the stupid sinus infection I had.)  I'm still madly in love with a super hot dude who cooks, really gets me, and politely pretends he didn't see anything when he comes across my insanely unattractive old lady shaping garments.  I have a house, 2 dogs, an enormous family full of people I adore.  I have wonderful friends, Phish shows, a new wedding dress! My midsummer melancholy came to an end when I realized that the only thing that had changed was my attitude.  I let myself wallow in feeling overwhelmed, tired, incapable of being the person I wanted to be, chained to the person I'd always been.  I didn't visit my grandma, the sweetest person in the entire world, because I was too tired.  I watched bad tv, focused on all the things about my life that I wanted to be different.  "Life shouldn't be this hard!" I lamented.

The thing is, life is hard.  For everyone.  Almost all of the time.  Perhaps less so for some than others, but it's hard, and exhausting, and sometimes sad. It's easy to comfort ourselves by getting angry at the people who we think have it easier than us, which is a trap I admittedly fall into sometimes.  But I find I'm a happier, stronger person, when I realize each challenge that life presents us with is an opportunity for growth.  Whether that challenge comes from external factors,  or, as it so often is, your own head, conquering that challenge helps you to grow, helps you to realize that you can do things you thought you couldn't.  I used to think that positive people were positive because they didn't know any better.  But a few weeks ago I was reading an interview at the end of one of my all time favorite books (Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann.  Read it.  It's not as racy as 50 Shades of Grey, but I promise you the writing quality is 500 million times better) and he summed up how I've been feeling lately better than I ever could. 

"It's strange, but as I grow older I find myself developing more optimism. I keep inching towards the point where I believe that it's more difficult to have hope than it is to embrace cynicism. In the deep dark end, there's no point unless we have at least a modicum of hope. We trawl our way through the darkness hoping to find a pinpoint of light. But isn't it remarkable that the cynics of this world-the politicians, the corporations, the squinty-eyed critics-seem to think that they have a claim on intelligence? They seem to think that it's cooler, more intellectually engaging, to be miserable, that there's some sort of moral heft in cynicism...I think that real bravery comes with those who are prepared to go through that door and look at the world in all its grime and torment, and still find something of value, no matter how small."

 This rang so true to me.  Sure, there's a cliche that struggle makes us stronger.  This is true.  But it doesn't just make us stronger, it makes us better.  Choosing to be positive as we grow older, as we see more of the things that are tough to see, as we learn about the heartbreak and struggle inherent in the human experience-this takes an extraordinary amount of strength.  Living a happy life comes easier to some than to others, but to those people who don't struggle for happiness like some others, perhaps you are missing out on a little something.  Allow me to indulge in a bit of metaphor, if you will.  When I've thought of moving to the south, or other places with warm climates, I've found myself responding that I wouldn't like it. 

"Why not?!" incredulous Clevelanders have asked me, their faces chapped from the cold, their socks wet, their will to live leaking out the hole in the new pair of boots they just bought. 

Well, incredulous Clevelanders, the reason is...I like the changing seasons.  I love the day in March where it jumps up to 43 degrees and you see guys walking around in shorts.  I love the feeling of the warm breeze thawing me out, the walks through soggy grass, the first time I have to cut my lawn.  I can't say for certain, but it seems to me that if you live in a place that doesn't experience winter, you can't understand the sheer joy of those early days of spring.  Winter is tough, but having lived in Cleveland the majority of my life...I can handle the cold.  And living through that cold helps me to enjoy the warmth even more.  Besides, who would want to live in a world without chilly fall days, leggings, cozy sweaters, and three comforters?  

Oh, such a fine metaphor, if not a bit cliched.  

And so as far as I'm concerned, bring on the winters of our discontent!  Because without them, perhaps I wouldn't enjoy the falls, springs, and summers nearly as much.  

 Alright, I'm going to take off.  It's time for my glamour shots with the lovely Hattie.  We're not calling it an "engagement shoot" rather a "hey, might not be a bad idea to have a few photos of ourselves that aren't crooked and shot via a camera held backwards by a person that's in the picture" shoot, which frankly seems more rock and roll.    

I hope you are all doing fantastically.  Life is good.  Savor these last morsels of summer, friends. 

The Opportunity Costs of Being Rotund

Two blog posts in 3 days?  Woooooah there.  Getting a little crazy up in here.  But as I sit on my couch, the beads of sweat from my evening run still grossing out my gentleman caller, inspiration struck. 

When I used to think about being overweight, I'd think "Ohhh I'm chubby!  Johnny Cool Guy isn't going to want to go out with me!" or "Now I'll never be a teen model!" (Oh wait sorry, that was Marcia Brady) My main reason for wanting to lose weight was so that other people would like me, wouldn't be grossed out by me.

Isn't it a wonder I wasn't successful?  I mean, there's no better motivation to accomplish something than to change what people you don't know or care about will think about you, right?

Well, as it turns out, not so right.

I recently read somewhere (upon further investigation to give proper props, on a Cracked.com list of 7 Scientific Reasons You'll Turn Out Just Like Your Parents) that as we get older, we are more likely to enjoy 
things that don't necessarily have a quick payoff. This is why when we're young, we like video games and nights filled with Natty light and flipcup, whereas when we get older, we start enjoying things like organizing our spice drawer and refinishing furniture. This makes logical sense, and might also help to understand why past weight loss efforts by Bethanys of diet past have failed.  Even when you work out for 2 hours, your waist doesn't automatically get smaller.  Ope, must not be worth the effort!

Despite the fact that there are lots of other great reasons to get healthy, a new big one occurred to me today.

I ran today.  It was hard.  I sweated a lot, breathed heavy, felt just a little dizzy.  It wasn't particularly pleasant to be running down a street in my neighborhood in this manner. 

However, when I was done, I felt amazing.  Had I not ran, I might have done a load of laundry, sat on the couch and watched tv, eaten some junk food, and felt my night complete.

Like so often is the case for us overweight people, food brings you joy.  In any situation, we immediately think of the food that goes along with it.  You're getting married?  Sweet, what kind of cake?  Your son is getting circumcised?  Sweet, what kind of cake? (Okay, might not be applicable in that context) But the point is that when food is the main thing that brings you joy in life, you aren't as likely to seek out other things.  If you can be happy sitting at home eating 3 cupcakes and watching eighties movies, why keep searching for other reasons to be happy?  If food is keeping you happy, you just might not notice that all your pants are too small and your body requires it's own zip code.  That you're skipping out on things you want to do because you don't have the energy, or are afraid people will judge you. 

This, my friends, is the thing I am no longer willing to accept.

You see, I do love food, and I always will.

But...there are so many other joys in life to pursue.  Relationships with amazing friends.  New experiences.  Helping others. Passion.  Conquering challenges.  Dressing up in clown suits.  Career success.  Family.  Learning.  Shopping for your wedding dress without mortal fear.  Things that require physical endurance.  There are so many places to see and things to experience in this world.

I suppose it's a cliche, for a reason.  When I look back at my life, I don't want to think about all the nights I spent at home watching movies and hiding from the world.

I want to think about the people I've loved, the things I've learned, the experiences I've had.

And so even though it's hard for me to run, and to take good care of myself...I'm going to do it.

Because even if it doesn't have the instant payoff of eating a glorious dessert, or a particularly awesome burger, in the end, being healthy means my life will be full of a lot more opportunities for joy.

And that's damn good motivation for me.

Happy Monday my friends!

Be kind!

Alright, 3 people who will read this.

It's time for some tough love.  Bullying has become the latest buzzword when talking about kids.  Whether you agree with the hype or not, it's true that bullying has been going on forever.  There's probably a stone carving of some kids pointing and laughing at another kid who wet his loin cloth.

I could write a full blog about the bullying phenomenon as it is, but I'll spare you the rant.  But as I've been thinking about it, it occurred to me that bullying doesn't seem to stop as we grow older.  In fact, in a way, most of us seem to be bullies as adults, as well.  If someone is fatter than us, she's a hoss.  If she's skinnier, she's anorexic.  If they're smarter, it's fake.  If they have a better paying job, it's a fluke.  If they're driving too fast, they're maniacs.  If they're driving too slow they're assholes.  If they like Nickelback, they're sheep.  If they paint their nails black, they're freaks.  If they don't like you, they're stupid.  The list goes on and on.  This pattern of judging other people to feel better about ourselves doesn't seem to stop, even once we're old enough to know better.

So my plea in this post is simply: Try to be kind.

Our culture has come to believe that people are nice because they are weak, because they are too scared to be tough.  Nice is weak, mean is strong.

And perhaps this is true.  Perhaps we should avoid "nice" which is defined as "pleasing, agreeable and delightful."  Instead, we should strive to be kind.  Kindness is defined as  "of a good or benevolent nature or disposition, as a person."

Perhaps the difference seems unimportant, but it is not.  Being nice is fake.  We are saying the thing we think that person wants to hear so as not to hurt their feelings.  We are withholding our actual mean opinions, and saying what it seems like we should.  Kindness is much harder.  Kindness involves asking yourself why you're being mean.  What is it about the other person that makes you think something mean about them?  Chances are, it has little to do with them, and a great deal more to do with you.  You call the other person stupid to make yourself feel smarter.  We decide that skinny girl is a slut so that we can feel like we have the upper hand personalitywise even if she's prettier.  In being mean to others, we are often really dealing with our own insecurity. 

It's been tough for me, it's so easy to be mean, so easy to judge.  I still struggle with it.  I still like to ridicule people, still rush to judgment, still say awful things.  No one will ever be perfect.  But in judging the lives others lead, we get to bypass judging our own.  Kindness forces us to look at other people as people.  That guy isn't just dumb, that girl isn't just obnoxious.  He or she is a person, who has made choices, who has heartbreaks, weaknesses, difficulties.  We tend to ignore the human aspects of the people we don't know, they just become things to compare ourselves to.  But each person, whether you know them or not, is battling through the experience of life, just like you are.  They have sick family members, they are struggling with school, trying to get a good job, trying to find happiness.  They may be like you, they may not.  They may be good people, they may not.  But we all are dealing with pain, and in most cases we have no idea what kind of pain other people are dealing with.   

The poem Desiderata tells us "If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself."  Our meanness is often about comparing ourselves with others so we don't have to think about them being happier, prettier, more successful than us.  Accepting that I am not the most extraordinary person in the world in every way is difficult, but what a freedom it is.  Instead of trying to be better than others, we can be the most extraordinary version of ourselves.  Isn't that so much more rewarding?  If you think about it, a lot of the issues in our culture come from our tendency to look at and judge what the others aren't doing instead of looking at what we are doing.  In politics, it's okay for our side to be shady because the other side is being shady. Campaigns are often based on what the other party is doing wrong instead of presenting what your party will do right.  In the end, how does that help at all?  All it creates is a group of people who don't need to actually do well, they just need to convince us that the alternative is worse.

I don't want to get too preachy, or accusatory.  I know we all do the best we can. But maybe some of us aren't even aware when we do it, I know I wasn't for a long time.  It seems we could all use a little more kindness in our lives. 

When we talk about bullying, perhaps we shouldn't just focus on the victims but should also focus on the bullyers.  What is it that makes them need to put others down? I read an article about a new disciplinary approach that greatly affected the number of expulsions, suspensions, and referrals greatly at a particular school.  The crazy new approach involved the principal saying to the kids that got into trouble "So, you were skipping class.  This doesn't seem like you, what's been going on?"  Apparently, this helped immensely.  It's baffling to wonder how many tragedies would be avoided, how many lives changed if we just showed kids, even the trouble makers, some kindness.

The same applies for us grown ups too.  Perhaps we temporarily feel better when we are mean to others-but it is so much better-for us and them, if we are kind.

And so, my plea, after this long and arduous ramble, is to please do the best you can to be kind to others.  Whether others notice or not, whether there's anything in it for you, kindness is such a gift.  In the end, we all need kindness sometimes.  We are all stupid sometimes, we all make bad decisions, we all act selfish, we all like at least one really terrible band.  In the end, judging others won't change that.   

I hope you all are well, and keeping cool.