Birthday

Im sure no one really cares, but I wanted to write about my birthday for a minute.
So last year, when I turned 21, Sonny proposed to me on my birthday. He was going to wait for the next day when we were going to the beach, but couldnt help it :).

So this birthday, being my first as a married woman, I was excited to see how it would compare.
It started out pretty normal. We went for breakfast at Waffle House (pecan waffle for me) and then drove around Athens. Sonny blindfolded me and disoriented me so that I wouldnt know where we were going. He went in to the store and bought my present and then we went to Ben and Jerrys to get an ice cream cake. (If you know me, you know that I would eat ice cream in the North or South Pole during winter in the middle of a blizzard. And yes, I know its December). We had tickets to a UGA basketball game, so we went home to eat cake and open my present. Much to my surprise, he bought me this killer softshell from Patagonia that I have wanted for over a year. I was thrilled. We had cake and left for the game. Come to find out, we had passes to that private hospitality reception thing before the game and had lunch and listened to a team representative answer questions (and had a sweet parking spot). And then our seats. Floor seats. Like I could see the sweat on the players foreheads and see the fibers in their laces. It was sweet. Ive never been that close. The box seats at the Jazz game were cool, but this was awesome. Needless to say, the Dawgs won.
So we got home and hung out. We had the best time just talking. I wont go in to detail about anything else. But probably the second best birthday ever.

Training log 12/12/08

I can see why people get addicted to exercise. I admit that the hardest part is getting myself out of bed at 4:45 in the morning to go to spin. But for some reason, while Im in class, dripping sweat and muscles burning, Ive never felt more alive (ok, well ALMOST never...but we wont go in to that. :)) I love how my leg muscles are deliciously tight after class and although Im exhausted I feel a strange inner energy that makes the day seem brighter. Cellulite and width has started to melt off my thighs and my legs are resembling something like an alluring womanly-athletic shape. Ok, so my boobs went from a full C to a generous B, but my tummy muscles are starting to show a little definition and my waist is back and I wont even start to talk about my butt :)... Anyway, I am enjoying training for this tri more than I ever thought I would.

Today I only did about 40 minutes (treadmill, weights, floor exercises) but it feels good to move--besides I was running around all day at work.

Training day Number 24?

I'm the kind of person that has a million ideas and wants to try them all but only ever follows through on a handful of them. So when my mother-in-law mentioned that a few of my siblings-in-law and she were doing a triathlon, I laughed out loud at the thought of me competing in any sort of physical activity. Even though I was skinny in elementary school, I was always one of the last across the finish line during PE--I was trying to keep up with the fat kid who always seemed to be one stride ahead of me. In college I started to think there was something wrong with me when I would get winded going up the hill to class. An old doctor from the student health center told me I was simply out of shape (thanks a lot, fatty). Then I started to do some research. I talked to a friend of mine who said he had similar tightness and shortness of breath (although sometimes I thought mine were just an allergic reaction to exercise) and he said he was diagnosed with sports-related asthma and had an inhaler. Janene prescribed me an inhaler and from that day my life changed.

So anyway, Im training for a the Lake Lanier Sprint Triathlon. I get my butt out of bed every morning at 4:45 and stumble in to the spin room at the Y. My butt gets kicked for an hour and then squeeze that same butt into a swimsuit and collapse into the swimming pool for laps. By 7 am I have burned almost 1,000 calories and I prepare myself to do it again the next day. I have started running (gasp!!) and Im up to about two miles without wanting to crawl into a ball and die--for some people that may be a bit pathetic, but remember the skinny kid story above: I didnt run much as a kid. The race is a 1/2 mile (=10 laps) swim in Lake Lanier (if it has water...), 13 mile bike race, and 3.1 mile run. So far I can swim 5 laps, bike 7 miles (on a mountain bike, probably could go all 13 on a road bike but a mountain bike on asphalt uphill is like biking on flypaper), and 2 miles running. The race is in June and I have about six months to get ready. I am so excited that I am finally participating in something like this. Even if I am the last person crawling across the finish line, it will be one of the few things I have ever finished.

As a side note, a huge plus of all this training is that I am going to have a killer body for our Puerto Rico trip in May. Bikini (or lack thereof) and a private pool in our suite...Oh yeah.....

Grateful

On this day of family and food, I take a moment to reflect on the things I am most thankful for. I have to say first and foremost, I am grateful beyond words for a love deeper and more profound than I ever could have imagined. I am blessed to be married to a man that loves and respects me. I never believed that marriage could be as deep as this. With him I feel so secure , so cherished, and so trusting that I would put my life in his hands without a second's hesitation. I know if he read this he would be embarrassed, but sometimes I want to climb to the highest peak and shout so that the world knows that I have found my Prince Charming, my hero, my dream, and he is more perfect than I could have ever hoped for. Second, I am grateful for the love and support of family (of both blood and marriage) that have made our lives possible and fulfilled. I am grateful for a gospel of light and truth that makes it possible for me to have and hold the aforementioned blessings for all of eternity. As I sit here on the back deck of the lake house, and look at the peaceful water and the hazy pink sunset, I cant help but marvel at all the little steps (and big events) that have led to my life at this point. I am grateful for every one of my past mistakes and heartbreaks, for they have all lead to this point and it was all worth it.
As I trained a little for my triathlon today, I was thinking about my husband who will be started medical school. It is ironic that my mother was in the same situation as I am now and only a year older than me; she too worked to put my father through medical school and she even bought him his first stethoscope. Yet somehow I know that my experience will deviate dramatically from hers. I look forward to these next years with anticipation and optimism. I know how bright he is and how dedicated he is to his dreams and I am excited to see them come to fruition.
I hope everyone takes a few moments this day in their post-turkey haze to think about what they are most grateful for.
So to anyone who reads this, and all who dont, Happy Thanksgiving.

Bittersweet Election

How wonderful that America has moved ahead and fulfilled a large part of MLK's dream. We are a fantastic example of progress!
Pero la verdad es que noy puedo estar completamente feliz. Me siento perseguida, castigada, y enojada. Mi esposo cree que soy loca y mala porque me gusta nuestro nuevo presidente y me haste sentir mal. El cree que voy a lastimar la familia y que no lo soporto. El siempe cree que el tiene todo la razon y no me escucha cuando lo hablo. Me hace sentir avergonzada por tener mi propia mente y por no estar de acuerdo siempre con el. Estoy fuerte en el evangelio y no se parece que el tiene mucho fe en mi. Estoy tan frustrada...

Hypocrites

I am "blessed" by family (both immediate and in-laws) who are staunch Republicans. Something that struck me recently was the ridiculous Fox News and Republican classic straw grasping that claims Senator Obama is a jihadi because his middle name happens to be Hussein. Anyone who isnt ignorant about life outside of this country would realize that it is a common name. Such impeccable logic would point to the "fact" that John McCain is an assasin (see: Abraham Lincoln's killer), the first murderer (hint: son of Adam and Eve), and a nerdy guy that plays in only-funny-to-Mormons movies (hint: Napolean Dynamite). Stupid, huh? It gets better.

Obama is an inexperienced buffoon but PTA mom turned mayor and eventually governor of a-state-that-no-one-cares-about-except-salmon fishermen is a maverick. Give me a break. McCain didnt pick an obscure soccer mom for a VP because he wanted to...he is actually a political genius. This misogynistic, wife-leaving, decrepit old man has a permanent wince on his face whenever he is in public with his running mate. Wanna know why? BECAUSE HE ONLY PICKED HER FOR THE VOTES!! And whose votes? Women. But this in itself isnt what is insulting. What is insulting is that he doesnt think that women have the brain matter to actually examine a candidates credentials (and a candidate who knows what a VP actually does it kinda important too) and choose someone who would actually do some good for this country. No, we just like that she's a mommy! Please. Im all for motherhood, and I strongly question Hillary's claim to feminism, but dont insult my intelligence by choosing a complete idiot. I am a woman and therefore Mr. McCain, I refuse to vote for you. Nice try though! I was ALMOST swayed by your running mate's fab hairdo! I totally vote for anyone with a vagina (which is why I was unsure about Hillary...)since that is the only thing that matters to me! Girl power!
Condoleeza would have been the ideal choice. She's strong, intelligent, and experienced. But then again she has that unfortunate disadvantage: she's black. McCain couldnt tarnish his office by such an irrational choice. Blech.

Inspired by the movie P.S. I Love you

We watched the movied "PS I love You" the other night and in between my sobs I thought what I would feel if (heaven forbid) I lost Sonny. So, anyway....



The silence is deafening

As I walk these empty halls—

Full of our things, your things,

But devoid of everything.

I hold my breath

In the hopes that the world

will suddenly stop spinning.

That I can stay right here

Consumed, broken, and lifeless

And not have to move on

Without you.

Each day that passes

Would be an insult to your memory.

Each breath I take

Would be one less for you.

If I don’t leave this spot,

Then you never will either.

Being a first-generation American is a strange phenomenon. I listen to latin music now in a feeble attempt to connect my self to my roots. Its seems I am in a rubber band struggle between my mother's efforts to assimilate us into American society and my efforts to resemble something of who I think Im supposed to be. Am I ruining her 21 years of efforts? No, I think Im just confused. I don't feel as if I fit in with the white kids but I dont quite fit in with the latin kids either. An ex of mine once said that I was exotic enough to be beautiful but American enough to be tolerated for long periods of time ( well he did exactly say it like that but he isn't as eloquent as me--you get the picture). Translation: I have a nice ass but I don't have an accent. How will I teach my children about their heritage when I dont even understand it?

Vicious Cycle

We point fingers at China for ignoring the human rights abuses in Sudan in order to get its oil--but we are contributing to the problem. I just read today that a significant percentage of our goods come from factories in China. And while we blame China for its apparent immoral actions as it supplies Sudan with money for its oil which the government uses to murder its southern population--we forget one key factor...China wouldnt need all that oil if we didnt rely on them for cheap labor for iPods. So, in a way, we are responsible too. Ill admit, I benefit from cheap labor like everyone else and I'd rather pay $250 for an iPod than $450 for an American laborer to do it--but does that make me part of the problem? By buying a new iPod and I contributing to the death of a woman and her child in Darfur? Did that toaster I bought aid in displacing the Lost Boys? In this "shrinking" world, it is good that we are interconnected, but that also means that our actions can negatively impact someone on the other side of the world. I know that people need jobs, and even if they are low paid by American standards, they are still making some income, but what happens to my conscience? Although this might be terrible to admit, I am a little more concerned with dollars aiding the genocidal slaughter of people whose only crime is to be alive in southern Sudan than I am with underpaid workers in China. However, whenever I buy an item and discover on the bottom the little words "Made in China" will I see a picture of a 14 year old boy covered in grime bringing pennies home to his family because I bought something I didnt need in the first place? Was I helping or hurting him? And because I bought that toaster oven, and the money filtered its way upwards through the bureaucracy of socialism into the government's hands, will it make its way into the hands of the Sudanese government and janjaweed? Will the toaster oven, iPod, shirt, or dog toy I buy eventually pay for a machine gun put in the hands of a ten year old boy who has been brain-washed into killing his whole village? How do we live with our materialistic selves?!?!

Shades of Gray

Oh thin silver strand,
how you torment me.
Will you go away?
Or tomorrow will I find three?
Are you the product
of my stress and anxiety?
Or is early aging,
to be my destiny?
MCAT, boobs flat,
new job?, puppy pee,
gaining weight,
now Im late...
What will become of me?

Thoughts from inside the wheel 2

The hamster continues to run furiously, trying to get somewhere. But running in place never gets you far. I had an interview this week and it looks promising. I feel almost naughty, as if Im a double agent. When I was asked why I was leaving, I squirmed a little, but then I remembered that I saw a fellow coworker get fired to give someone who quit his job (and I can't stand her). I've seen a managing partner that is on vacation or at a board meeting (for something completely irrelevant to the practice) more than he is at work. I've had piles of busywork heaped on my already teetering pile so that someone else doesn't have to do it (even though it would take him five minutes). I did my boss's Christmas cards even though his wife doesn't work and their kids are in school. Do your own damn cards! I didn't get an A in all my English and writing classes at the university to write your holiday cards to your extended family. When someone suggested bonuses or raises, no eye contact was made and something about offering better health insurance was offered as an explanation. Of course they dont care! They, with their 800,000.00 houses and brand new SUVs. Their kids in private schools and family vacations every two months. Its the typical Republican sentiment: keep the little guys down so you can get richer. I'm sick of working for these people. I quit.

The Naked Truth

Why is it that women can be seen naked (or almost) in movies, but you hardly ever see a man naked (well, the interesting parts anyway)? I think its just another example of how in this still patriarchal society the degrading of women continues. What a better way to keep us as second class citizens than to expose us in front of millions? Fine, dont make us wear veils and dress in long robes, but to go the completely opposite direction and expose our woman-ness for the world to see and for men to salivate after is not what feminism is about. Its about respect. It is as equally degrading to bare our breasts to the world as it is to claim that women should be seen and not heard.

Thoughts from inside the wheel

Im at work, so this has to be quick:
As one of my coworkers put it, we are hamsters in a wheel--endlessly running for our lives but never moving forward. I dont want to be stuck like this... I need to escape from this town, this state. I need fresh air and a new perspective. I need a career, not a job.

...

Things that bothered me this week:
1) The fact that everything has been bothering me. Either Im hormonal or just abnormally bitchy this week.
2) My boss's comments about how he likes a certain basketball team because there are "more white guys" on it
3) The fact that I suck at EVERYTHING I try, but especially sports. I feel like Sonny has to teach me how to do everything.
4) I've been really tired all week and I feel queasy. (PLEASE dont let me be pregnant...)
5) Several things about my job that I wont go in to.
6) It was f$%&*ing cold most of the week

Things that made me happy this week:
1) My husband did all the laundry--I didnt even ask.
2) Ive decided to get my masters in Public Health instead of go to law school
3) It finally warmed up today

The End

Decisions...decisions...

I dont know what to do with my life. I'm married now, so my priorities have all changed. I am obsessed with plans, and I had a perfect one but now its all changed. Do I go to law school while my husband is in medical school? If so, how do we provide for ourselves? We dont want to wait four years until we have children, so how am I supposed to handle law school and taking the bar while having a child? What happens if I dont go to law school? Is this where my education stops? If so, will I regret it? How will we eat if I am pregnant and my husband is in med school and no one is working? And how do I decide? No one can answer these questions for me, therefore I am stuck.

True Love?

I need to know true, eternal, everlasting love exists. Dont get me wrong, I LOVE my husband (!!! husband!! Can you believe it??) and I know that he loves me (!!!! HE loves ME. Like, honestly, really, loves lil ol'me!!!), but with movies and sleezy politicians, its a little hard to believe that the gushy-mushy love we see in old movies really exists. Will there be a dramatic decrease in the number of old couples holding hands on the sidewalk forty years from now? (More important question: will we be one of those?). I worry--needlessly I know--about us growing old together. Will he stop being attracted to me when Im 40? 50? 60? Will he look for his "20" and fantasize about a girl half my age? I know this is all unfair to him because he has never given me reason to doubt. But Im not so much worried about him as I am the men of his generation. With the constant bombardment of sex and the way women continue to be demeaned in media and even society, how are they supposed to grow up to respect and love a woman and stay with her through the rest of their lives when temptations are so strong? Ok, confession time: (promise you wont think Im crazy) but sometimes I see married men and I wonder if they are faking it. Do they really love her? Do they really love that little boy they are slinging around their shoulders or is it all an act? And I dont need a psychologist to analyze why I feel that way. But its not His fault. I need to stop blaming Him for everything, its not healthy. Maybe one day when I have my own little boy, I will see my husband roll out of bed to change his diaper and know that its not an act (he doesnt get out of bed willingly). I have had to reprogram my brain, and its taking a long time to download. I mentally shake myself out of the negative thoughts that I try to creep in like little roots and entrench themselves in my psyche. Yes, Sharyl, he DOES love you for you. No, he will never cheat on you or mistreat you. Yes, he's married to you because he wants to be. Yes, he is happy. And yes, one day, he will be the father of your children and he will love them... and No, he wont abandon them or you. I see my father in-law with my mother in law, and my parents, and it gives me a shred of hope. They are mushy and sweet with each other and are incandescently happy. Despite the little demons in my subconscious, I too, am incandescently happy. I fight with them, and some days they are quieter and some days they almost consume me... but then I catch him looking at me and the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a smile and everything is right in the world.

Hip Hop is Dead, B*tches

First, I love that song "Hip Hop is Dead", by Nas, and I encourage anyone who reads it to listen to it. My mother heavily censored any music I listened to growing up so it wasnt until I was almost out of high school that I got into hip-hop and rap. I remember listening to Eminem with my friend in 10th grade in her room and liking his witty (although dark) lyrics. However, hip-hop and rap have deteriorated drastically since their rise to popularity. I cant count how many time I have turned off the radio while listening to a song due to disgust. Not that my sense of morality when it comes to music is ram-rod straight and I only listen to songs about God, but a line like "Ill fill your space and forget your face" (My Love by Justin Timberlake)makes me cringe. Why do we as women subject ourselves to this sort of verbal/sexual abuse? Lyrics that debase and dehumanize us into merely sexual objects, no matter how good the beat, are not acceptable. What is worse is that we listen and support these artists. We allow ourselves to be called "bitches", where the word has become synonymous for the word "woman" in pop-culture. Even John Legend who sings one of my favorite songs has a song where he says "Dont say I dont love you/just because I cheat on you.." C'mon!! I am not a "bitch" (well, most days) and I refuse to be abused like that by rappers and hip hop artists that only think women are a piece of ass. IF you respect yourself, take a minute to listen to your music and do something about it. Sure, we can vote now, and we are slowly gaining respect in the corporate and academic world, but these lyrics set us back centuries to where women only existed for men. Screw that....

Deeper?

My whole life I have searched to fill the empty crevasses of my heart with love. I practically begged to be loved and appreciated. I tried to be the perfect child, student, girlfriend...everything. I would practically prostrate myself for validation from others and retreat into a corner of self-pity when it wasn't given. But, somehow, in the span of a few short months, something much more powerful than my inane "need" for acceptance and reassurance has filtered into and taken over my psyche: true love. As cliche and sugary as it sounds-- true, deep, committed love (however young) has opened my eyes. Where I once whined about the lack of a text message saying "You mean the world to me" or "How's work babe", I have suddenly realized that the way he picks up my car while Im at work and takes it to get an oil change and brings it back with a full tank means more than any high-school-esque gesture. How when he leans over to give me a kiss with a smile in his eyes makes me feel more beautiful than all the people who have ever stopped me and asked me if I modeled. In this transcendance I find a peace that I have been looking for since I realized I would grow into my adulthood without my father.
Not that my father was dead--which might have been easier to cope with--but he had abandoned me. So from the moment I was conscious of that until now, I sought to fill his void with someone, anyone. I found jerks, users, cheaters and liars (ironically, all who reminded me a little of my father)that I "needed" to make me feel good about myself (ultimately to no avail).... until I found HIM. While it took us years to finally end up together, he is my knight-in-shining-armor-wrapped-in-a-bow. I coulndt ask for anyone better (since said person could not exist). And what is even better is that he is not a "space filler". He is not simply my crutch to help me get over my sense of abandonment--he is part of my soul. I dont need him to give me validation, I need him because I love him.