MY Extreme Makeover, Weight Loss Edition

Seven years ago I was 70 pounds lighter and felt the BEST I had ever felt in my life. I was happy, confident, healthy, and full of life. I had so much self confidence.

My entire life I have struggled with my weight. Depression was a large part of it, but the main issue was being addicted to food. After several very emotional experiences in life, I just lost all hope of ever being happy and completely let myself go. At my heaviest I weighed 310 pounds, and at only 5 feet, 2 inches, I was so obese I don't think I would have been alive if I had not lost weight. After gastric bypass, I lost 150 pounds in 18 months. (as seen in the photo above).

As I said, seven years has passed and I have put 70 pounds back on. I know I can loose this extra weight. Even though I have gone up and down more times I care to remember, I somehow feel like this time may be my best chance. I finally have a steady job so I am not as stressed over money as I was before, and I can afford to rejoin my gym, which just happens to be 5 minutes from my new job. I also work for a clinic that specializes in metabolic programs and the doctors have offered to give me a consultation and help me along my journey.

So, tomorrow is Monday, July 2nd. As good as a time as ANY to get the party started. Stay posted my friends... here we go.

Feliz Dia de los Padres

Today I was blessed to share an afternoon with three of my four brothers, my Dad, step mom, and kids... all under one roof. The typical shenanigans of golf, family jokes, and childhood stories always make me smile. Buffalo sliders, mango salsa, steaks and veggies were consumed, followed by ice cream over brownies topped with homegrown blackberries.  YUMMY!!! The absolute best part was seeing my dad smile and be happy around all his kids. 


My favorite memories involving my dad all took place during my childhood years. Every summer we went on backpacking camping trips, sometimes on horseback, sometimes not.  He took me to see my first musical, "Annie" when I was 12. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to build cabinets, how to grow a vegetable garden, how to play the drums, and so many other things I could never list them all. My parents divorced when I was less than a year old but my father never missed a weekend visitation and made sure that I had some experiences growing up that I would treasure for a lifetime. He brought me on vacations to places like Maui, Boston, Mazatlan, Canada, and made sure I knew all my relatives who live back East. When I got married, he paid for the wedding, the honeymoon, and walked me down the aisle. Although the marriage didn't last, the bond we made strong that day will remain in my heart. 


We have not always seen eye to eye, in fact, there were many years we did not speak or attend the same functions, but we never stopped loving one another. My father is one in a million and I am surely blessed to be his one and only daughter. So dear dad, thank you for everything you have done for me, the lessons you have taught me and the experiences you have allowed me to have. I love you so much. 

Generation Next

Isn't it funny how much time has changed what the youthful generation considers to be in style? At risk of sounding geriatric, I remember in my high school days all we needed to be happy was a swatch watch, a radio  and some Ray-Ban sunglasses. The rest was unimportant. Of course, more would have been nice, but as long as you looked the part, you were part of the "in crowd."  We played sports in school and hung out at each others' house on weekends. If you had a phone in your bedroom you were big time. Most of us had the long curly cord stretching 20 feet into our room and hoped our parents didn't pick up another extension and listen in. Most houses had a TV in the living room, you were rich if your parents had cable OR a remote control, otherwise it was rabbit ears. We played arcade games and made our own cassette tapes recorded off the radio. We roller skated, had after school jobs, and had a family dinner every night. We respected our folks and had to use the good ol' Encyclopedia Britannica for research papers. College was optional. 


These days all the clothes in the world don't matter if you aren't equipped with the latest and greatest technical gadget or know what happened on the most recent episode of "Reality TV"  (Because Snookie and Housewives of Orange County are SUCH good role models).  If you can't do the latest dance step (teach ME how to Dougie, please) or have the coolest video game system (which consists of killing insurgents or stealing cars).... Kids are not satisfied unless they have a huge flat screen TV, Blu-ray,  full cable, cell phone, I-pad or E-Reader and money in their pocket for Starbucks, Jamba Juice, or McDonald's when they troll the mall on the weekend. I-pods are full of gender-bashing songs,  texting is the preferred method of communication, after-school jobs are "too stressful". Although college is no longer an option, but required for any decent standard of living, with the use of the 'net, the workload is cut in half. Any information you need is at your fingertips, a few keystrokes away.


Somehow along the way young parents have raised material monsters, myself included. Growing up in my era was much simpler and focused on positive things. With our children's generation, things have changed greatly.  Some for the better, more for the worse. It frightens me how spoiled and lacking of morals teens and 20 somethings are. Can you imagine the NEXT round??? More importantly, what are we going to do about it?

I'm a Believer

Ultrasonic

Today was one of the BEST days I have had in about a year. First, the workday went by at a steady pace and the entire office staff was in happy spirits. As it was Thursday, the doctor's bought everyone the "Free Thursday" lunch, today's menu was a Mexican fiesta from the nearby taco shop. During my lunch I received a complimentary ultrasonic "Kontour" treatment on my face by a coworker. I heard this took 3-4 sessions before you see results, but much to my delight, upon completion all my crows feet lines around my eyes were GONE.  It felt like Christmas morning and my birthday all at once.  I know I sound like I am saying all this to drum up business, but I assure you readers, this is not the case.  I am HOOKED on this process. My face is soft, sun spots are lighter and the extra eye lineage has been eradicated.  At the end of my shift, the Kontour manager told me that as long as my treatments were done during my lunch break and without disrupting client-paid appointments, I could repeat them until I get the final results I want. Are you kidding me??? Good karma has finally come back around for this 40 year old.

Throwing Confetti

A week ago I was crossing all appendages in anticipation of being selected for a new job. Well, I got it! I have officially completed a full week and have learned the basics of how their practice is run on a day to day basis. Several of my suggestions have been put into action already and the doctors seem to appreciate my input. The practice is run by a Mormon family and most of the staff is related on some level. They are very nice to their employees, both related and non related and seem to treat everyone fairly.  I am so appreciative of this opportunity and ready to do a great job... 

Sometimes GOOD things really DO happen to GOOD people!!!

Beating the Odds

Still in my hunt for the "perfect"job.... I had a 3rd interview today at 10 a.m. (and I use the word interview in the most sarcastic sense possible)  only to arrive and be asked to come back again tomorrow at the same time... Grrrrr. This company is bass ackwards and completely unorganized. This is the 2nd time this has happened, and for a CRAP job, but an honest income nonetheless.

Immediately after this colossal waste of time I rolled out to interview numero dos of the day.  I was greeted by a professional atmosphere, clean facility, and a healing environment. The question and answer session went fabulously well, I met the office manager AND director and was asked to come back for a second meeting with the doctor. Out of 125 applicants (in less than 3 hours), my resume was chosen in the top ten. The interview brought me into the top three... So I will be crossing any and all appendages in hopes that I am selected as the right person for the position.

WISH ME LUCK!!

Healing Through Music

I have recently become of fan of country music. I find the lyrics hitting home or making me laugh at the silliness. Once song in particular by the lovely Miss Taylor Swift (what a down to Earth, talented, and classy young lady) reminds me of someone close to me who always manages to hurt my feelings with things he says... If this song was tweaked by a few lyrics, it would be spot-on. So, in the spirit of customization, here are a few of the lyrics, as I sing them:

You, with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me
You have knocked me off my feet again got me feeling like I'm nothing
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard, calling me out when I'm wounded
You, pickin' on the weaker one
Well, you can take me down with just one single blow
But you don't know what you don't know

Someday I'll be living in another city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday I'll be strong enough so you can't hurt me
And you will regret having been so mean
Why you gotta be so mean?

You, with your constant put-downs and your and your humiliation
You, have pointed out my flaws again as if I don't already see them
I'll walk with my head down trying to block you out 'cause I'll never impress you
I just wanna feel independant again
I'll bet you got pushed around, somebody made you cold
But the cycle ends right now 'cause you can't lead me down that road
And you don't know what you don't know

Someday I'll be living in another city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday I'll be strong enough so you can't hurt me
And you will regret having been so mean
Why you gotta be so mean?

PRAYER REQUEST

As most of my friends know, I care very deeply about the safety and health of my closest family and friends.  Today a very special person to me phoned me with horrific news. His daughter, a feisty, intelligent, beautiful two year old, was left with a babysitter who was clearly an incapable charge. The sitter was not paying attention and the toddler fell into a swimming pool, unnoticed. By the grace of God, a neighbor realized what happened, jumped in, and pulled her out of the water. She started CPR and would not give up until paramedics were on site. Upon their arrival, it was determined that the was unconscious and a Life Flight Copter was ordered. She was immediately air lifted to the closest facility. Doctors were able to revive her and get her stabilized. The fear now is that her little lungs may still collapse.

If there is something to be learned here, let it be the UTTER IMPORTANCE of pool safety and proper supervision.

So, dear friends and readers, PLEASE send a special prayer out for little Jayda. Pray for her strong recovery. And pray for the babysitter, a mere teenager, who has learned a valuable lesson, and is going insane with guilt and worry. Lastly, say a prayer for my friend. This little angel is his whole world.

Part III Happy OFFICIAL Mother'sDay

I woke up this morning feeling like today was going to be a great day filled with love, family bonding, and great food. Little by little that feeling is slipping out of my hands. Neither of my kids seem to care that today is supposed to be celebrating their mother. One is locked away in her bedroom engrossed in the internet and the other is preoccupied spending time with his girlfriend and her mother. I trollop downstairs and start the preparations… marinating the meat, making cupcakes and side dishes, etc. The sink if brim full of dishes because the offspring are in mid-debate over who’s turn it is, no neither will do them. There are soda cans, fast food bags, shoes and sweatshirts tossed randomly all over the house. I am disgusted. I am annoyed. But most of all I am saddened. This generation is so self-absorbed and entitled. I would never imagine treating my mother this way, ever. Especially on this special day.

Because I love and cherish my own mother so deeply, I am going to make the best of this day. I am going to smile through my tears and put on a brave face. Next year, I am passing on this dog and pony show and taking my mom out, just the two of us. My dear mama is unimaginably loving. She is sweet, caring, honest (brutally sometimes), thoughtful of others, beautiful, funny, dedicated and patient. She has sacrificed so many times to provide for myself and my older siblings. She has forgiven us for the utterly stupid things we have done and offered advice when she was asked. She allowed us to make mistakes but made sure we learned from our missteps. But most of all she taught me patience. So on this day where it is being tested to the utmost, I thank YOU, Elizabeth Ann for raising me to be the daughter and woman I am today. I love you.

Part II

The next special person in my life, who also happens to be one of the best mothers I know, is my very best friend, Angela. We first met 12 years ago during a brief attempt I took at operating a daycare out of my home. I figured it was a way to make a living while still being at home when my kids were young. Eventually the daycare fizzled out, but Ang and I remained close and very rapidly became best friends. She is the kind of person who is more than an acquaintance, she is more like the sister I never had. She is smart, beautiful, kind, honest, ambitious, and most of all, genuine. What you see is what you get. No fakery, no false pretences, no faux persona. She has been through struggles as we all have and has not only climbed the mountains of hardship, but overcome them, with grace, persistence and class.  And as a huge bonus... my own DNA relations consider her family....My own Mother considers her a daughter, as her mother does to me.. : }

She put herself through college while working a full time job and raising a daughter as a single parent. I will never forget the day she graduated and walked the aisle in her cap and gown. I was so proud to call her my “sister.” That very day I was so inspired by her achievement that I began seeking higher education for myself as well. I had long since put off any dreams of college when I had children but after walking along her path step by step, I started thinking hey, maybe I can do it, too. Soon after I enrolled and found myself returning to the virtual classroom; 24 months later, my own graduation.

Although my dear sis has moved a few states away to be closer to family, we stay in close contact and see each other at least once a year during our annual pilgrimage to sin city. I cannot imagine my life without her. Through marriage, divorce, births, deaths, child rearing, bad relationships, stressful jobs, good health and bad, we have made it together. She has been my rock, my confidante, my ally, my companion, my club hopping buddy, my mentor, my inspiration, and the one girlfriend I can trust to tell anything and know it will stay between us.

So on this Mother’s Day celebration, I wish Ms. GPT a wonderfully blessed day. I miss you and love you very dearly. I don't have a fairy God mother, I have a fairy Best-Sister-Friend.

Fondest memories:
Vegas trips, cross-country drives (18 wheeler explosions in Grand Junction), Super-bowl weekend, Hollywood (both the club and the city), Camels Breath, Backyard BBQs (don’t EVER pour beer on her chicken), Fully clothed pool jumps, ‘ol school concerts, South Mission Beach, Olive Wood Apts, Halloween parties, “The dress”, wedding preparations, Padre game tailgates, balloon chasing, holiday dinners, kickball, Marine Street beach, 94^th Aero Squadron, Fireworks, house painting, graduation parties, Crown Point bonfires, NYE Denver 2010 complete wiith -14 degree temps, hiking at Red Rock and Garden of the Gods…

Most memorable phrases:
“Charge him, girl!”
“It’s soooooo cute”
“N*%!a out”
“Am I good??? Am I good???”
“It’s not what people say, it’s what they do”
“Hellooooooo Ladies…”

　

Marvelous Moms, Part I

With May being the month to celebrate mothers, I am going to focus this weeks writing on the special women in my life who are all wonderful mothers. I have a grandmother, a Memere, Aunts, Godmothers, sisters, friends and of course, my own fabulous mama. I will start today off with a few of my girlfriends who happen to be mothers. Their names are Jerri, Jackie, Teri and Cassie. These are four phenomenal women.

Miss Jerri, as I call her, has raised two wonderful sons and has been a surrogate for two families who could not conceive. She gave them the gift of life, birthing a set of twins and a set of triplets. She is fun loving, kind, and dedicated to her sons and baby granddaughter. We met when our eldest sons were preparing for a college road trip sponsored by the school district. Our sons ended up being roommates on this trip. Much later we met again through a mutual friend we both knew, yet the connection had never been made. I remembered her from that meeting at the school and ever since then I have been blessed to have her as a great friend. I treasure all the shenanigans we find ourselves in and look forward to the great times still ahead.

Jackie, whom I lovingly refer to as Jackie Chan for no apparent reason, has three children, a daughter and two sons, all great young people, just like their mom. There is one word that I will always associate with Jackie and that is sweetheart. Through good times and bad she has been there for me. We have shared some great laughs when we worked together typically based on the tomfoolery our kids try to pull and the idiocy of the company. I miss the days our cubicles were across from each other and all the inside jokes we whispered to one another. Despite working for different companies now, we keep in close contact and spend time together whenever we can. One night in particular we went to a casino and she must have been my lucky charm because I won $300!!! I can always count on her to make me smile and have my back.

Teri is a mother of four I have known almost 20 years. When we met she had a son who was around 5 and a baby girl; my little boy was 2. We were neighbors and had a lot in common as our children are all biracial. For all intents and purposes, we were single mothers. We were young, naïve, and trying to balance motherhood while still enjoying our twenty-something years. It was remarkable that we were both pregnant at the same time with our now-15 year olds. Her son was born a week or two before my daughter. Soon after she relocated to Washington and we lost touch. There she was blessed with another daughter. Now she lives in a big, beautiful home with her kids and her own awesome mother (I love Miss Karen). She is a great mom to her kids; they are very close and share a warm family bond. I am quite thankful that we have reunited and I have been able to visit her and her groovy family circle.

Last but certainly not least there is Cassie, who has one extremely bright college aged son. We are only two months apart in age and have known each other since we were still in our mothers’ wombs. Although no actual blood relation, as children we called ourselves twin cousins because my mother (quite the seamstress) used to make us matching outfits. We went to the same preschool and elementary before, sadly, she moved away. We kept in sporadic contact over the years; some more than others, but in recent years have become close again. I have been able to not only visit with her, but also her mom and aunt who are equally as inspiring. I was thrilled to pieces when she moved back to San Diego. We have been able to spend a lot of time together in the last six months and we are now closer than we have ever been. I truly enjoy hanging out with her and not only reminiscing about the crazy stuff we did as teenagers, but creating new memories.

Thirsty Thursday

Being sans work this week, and weary from my unremitting search for a better employment; I opted to venture out into the real world and enjoy the camaraderie of other adults.  Avoiding further symptoms of cabin fever, I beautified myself a sufficient amount to be in public long and meandered into my favorite dive bar and frolic with the natives. I won’t state its name because, after all, this is my secret hideaway. It must be my lucky day because my favorite gal is tending the bar. There is nothing quite as uplifting as conversing with a person with a groovy persona. 


The jukebox is sporadically playing and each song is more random that the next.  Currently the television is tuned to a muted rerun of “Cops” and the woman sitting next to me is providing a scene by scene commentary which is quite humorous. This woman is advising the addict on the screen to use some “real tears” to get out of her arrest. “McCrackin” (this is honestly her name) is missing a few teeth and has clearly familiar with a pipe at some point in time.  Nevertheless, she is pure comic relief and comes across as quite the congenial character.


Suddenly I find myself distracted by a watermelon. One of the seasoned regulars has offered this fruit up to the bartendress in lieu of a cash gratuity. The dialogue was comical and went as follows: bartender: Aren’t my melons big enough? In which the patron replied “They are sweeter!” Ahhh good times. Just what the doctor ordered. 


Flash forward 30 minutes. As a gentleman orders a “White Stallion” which, incidentally, sounds great to me as well, a flood of sirens erupt outside. Ms. McCrackin (who also proclaims to have no “on” or “off” switch on her mouth) says “Oh no, they are after me! It’s not my fault the left the gate open.” As I chuckle at the sheer thought of her escaping the funny farm, she says “I can go from zero to 60 in three drinks.” I am just about to crack a sarcastic comment when The Beatles remind me to “Let it Be.” So that’s exactly what I did. Thanks, Mr. Lennon. 


A dialogue ensues when aforementioned White Stallion returns for a refill and gives me a history lesson. You see, my hand bag depicts a black and white photo of a Hollywood starlet (I haven’t a clue which one, but she resembles Anna Nicole Smith) and Mr. Stallion tells me she is a pin up model whose photo was originally painted on an aircraft during WWII. Incidentally, it was the first plane to drop a bomb on Hiroshima. One never knows when and where they will gain information. Until today I had no idea there were portraits on these planes. Go figure.


What a fabulous distraction this adventure has proven to be. I gather my belongings and bid adieu to these kindly folks who have provided me a great "alibi" for the day and greatly lifted my spirits. An old codger, who has been quietly propped up in his stool the entire time-fighting off sleep, also decides it is time for him to go. While he is assisted into his tricked out motorized cart, he promises to return after his afternoon nap to reap further havoc. Somehow, I believe him. Today I realized that there truly are bars where “everybody knows your name.”

*A special thanks to EM for making this day about 1000 times better

A Titanic Day

This afternoon I had the pleasure of attending the Titanic Exhibit in San Diego at the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park. What a special way for the family to spend time together! This was one of the most fascinating exhibtions I have attended and I have seen quite a few.  At the entrance of the walk-through exhibit, each person is given a "boarding pass" from an actual passenger listing demographical information, who they were traveling with and details on their journey. At the end of the tour, ticket holders search for their name on a wall to inquire if they perished or survived the catastrophe. In my case, my ticketed passenger survived. The following is some information I found on Mrs. Jennie Louise Hansen.

Mrs Claus Peter Hansen (Jennie Louise Howard) was born 20 December 1866 in Racine, Wisconsin, the daughter of William J. Howard and Edith Dawson. Jennie was a frail woman who had been poor in health for years. She had lived through several catastrophic events in addition to the Titanic.  She was a pastry cook in the Blake Opera House and Hotel which burned to the ground on 27 December 1884. She made the last trip in the elevator before flames gutted the shaft. Prior to the fire by several months, she was found lying unconscious in the kitchen overcome by gas fumes from the stove.

Jennie was married to Claus Peter Hansen on 25 July, 1900 in Racine. They would have no children.  In 1912 Peter and Jennie (then 45 years old) were going to Denmark to visit his family. Before leaving Racine, Jennie told her brother Thomas that she dreaded making the trip, saying that she had a feeling she would never return alive; she even told Thomas the type of funeral arrangements she wanted in the event that her body was recovered (he took this in a humorous vein). The Hansens left for Europe on board the Cunarder Campania on February 14, 1912.


When the time came for Peter and Jennie to return to America, Peter´s twenty-six year old brother Henrik Juul Hansen, decided to leave Denmark and accompany them to the new world. The trio boarded the Titanic in Southampton as third class passengers (ticket number 350026, £14 2s 2d). After the collision, Peter put his wife into a lifeboat (possibly lifeboat 11) with the words: "Jennie, you had better go so that there will be one of us to tell the story back home." Peter and Henrik both perished in the sinking. Jennie claimed that in the crowded lifeboat a sailor was sitting on her lap rowing the whole time!

As a result of the Titanic disaster, Jennie suffered such a shock to her nervous system that she was unable to shed a tear after. She also suffered from severe nightmares and went to stay with her elder brother Thomas and his wife Maggie in Franksville, Wisconsin. Apparently Jennie's nightmares were so severe that Thomas and Maggie had to go and hold her down on the bed.

Eventually, Jennie returned to Racine Wisconsin where she married Elmer Emerson, 19 years her junior, on 25 August 1915. They lived at 1214 Center Street, Racine. Jennie Louise Emerson (née Howard, late Hansen) died on 15 December 1952 aged 85, due to complications of chonic Bronchitis.

Career Corridors

Now that I have settled into the 2^nd phase of my adult life, I find myself seeking paths undiscovered thus far. I have come to the conclusion that I desire different things at 40 than I did at 20. Not so abnormal, right? Things that once ranked high in priority now barely scratch the surface of my psyche. I find myself on a perpetual ride to boredom, professionally speaking. I have worked basically in the same industry for 15 years, albeit under different titles. No matter what position I held, I always held on to my work ethic and went above and beyond what was expected. But I no longer have a passion for the health care industry, no longer look forward to going into work. Time for a fresh start.

I have a master plan and with any luck, I can set the wheels in motion in the very near future. I am setting my sights on a completely different genre of service this time around and I have a gut feeling I have found my true calling. I will have to get my knees dusty, starting at the bottom and I work my way up, but I welcome this challenge. I foresee great things in my near future. Life has no safety net, but I am excited to take this leap of faith.

pasos cortos, visión largo…..Short steps, long vision.

Injustice?

Recently many people celebrated the Easter holiday with friends and family. Typically there are traditional dishes, gathering around a table filled with appetizers, and some species of entertainment. For my family, this meant my Father’s delicious grilled filet mignon, my stepmother’s cream cheese and chutney dip, and golf. Well, the men gathered around the big screen and the females walked the property (several acres that what we fondly refer to as “Raymond Ranch.”)

Being animal lovers, their property has several lush turtle refuges, an impressive chicken coop, owl nesting boxes and a large aviary. In addition, there are fruit trees, trails, and view decks. So as the fellas watched golf, the ladies took a walk around the terrain looking at the new baby birds, picking fruit and collecting a colorful basket freshly laid eggs. The air was fresh and clean, being a good 30 minutes outside of the city proper and there is a certain peace in the atmosphere up there that calms even the most frazzled of nerves. For the most part, it was a lovely day.

Unfortunately this day was also a reminder of an injustice and a topic I find disturbing. I am sure there are people who will disagree with my opinion. Growing up in a law enforcement family, I could not count with all fingers and toes combined how many holidays we had faces missing around our supper table because someone had to work their regular shift at the jail or prison. I find it quite disheartening that convicted criminals are permitted family visits on legal holidays (even the banks and post offices are closed!!) causing sworn staff to miss the celebrations with their own loved ones. On this most recent holiday my stepfather, once again, had to work his normal shift at the jail, checking in guests, assigning visit rooms, and accepting money for the inmate accounts.

Please do not misunderstand… I know how beneficial a visit is to an incarcerated person. I know this because, as my regular readers are aware, I have a brother who is confined behind the walls of a California prison. After our father pays him a visit, his spirits are raised significantly and his letters are more positive and full of hope instead of despair. Said brother agrees with me regarding the frivolous visit schedule. I don’t begrudge a prisoner a chance to see their loved ones and keep the lines of communication open. Ultimately this type of bond to the outside world may help them upon release; closeness to friends and family may encourage them to live within the legal limits of the law.

I believe there is a fine line here. I reckon a law abiding, tax paying, hard working citizen deserves the holiday merriment with their kin considerably more than a convicted criminal.