Jenster's Musings

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Oahu Sunset


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Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Around Oahu

I think I've got the Blogger/slide show thing figured out!

As I said in my previous post, Monday we ate lunch at Hard Rock Cafe. You can't go into a Hard Rock Cafe with a camera and not take pictures of famous guitars.
Well I can't, anyway. I snapped Eric Clapton's guitar because Todd and Taylor are fans. I snapped Lenny Kravitz's guitar because I'm a fan. I snapped Lindsey Buckingham's guitar because I don't know. I never liked Fleetwood Mac.

Tuesday was the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial. One cannot go there and not be moved. can't look at the pictures now and not be moved. Do you know there are still a handful of living survivors left? And those who survived the attack but have passed on have had the option of being interned with their shipmates. Their names have been added to a special place on the Memorial Wall.

The photograph titled "Tears of the Arizona" is the slick of oil that still weeps from the ship after all these many years. The flag over the memorial flies from a flagpole which is attached to the severed mainmast of the sunken battleship. In the gift shop, Taylor found and purchased the flag that was flown over the memorial on September 11, 2001.



I didn't take my honkin' camera to dinner with Cigi's family, but Katie took her cute little camera. Good thing, too, because that way we got the picture of our family and her family. Don't we look happy? Mostly because the company was great, but a little bit because we're going to eat. That always makes me happy. Cigi's husband, Les, told the waiter it was our anniversary (since the trip was kind of an anniversary celebration) and we were given a delicious coconut creme brulee.

And finally the pearls. Aren't they lovely? My pineapple pearl doesn't show up quite as blue in the photo as it really is. Gotta love the bling, though.

And that wraps up our week in Oahu. Next we fly to the Big Island.

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Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Week on Oahu

I had a brilliant post written about our week in Oahu to accompany the slide show. It was pure genius and I know it would have received prestigious awards and accolades and I, no doubt, would have been contacted by Conde Nast within the week, begging me to be a feature writer for their Travel magazine for a ridiculous amount of money, all travel expenses included of course. But alas, Blogger conspired against my good fortune and ate my words. Even the title of my post is missing. I guess I should be happy the slide show remained.

I wrote in the zone, but the zone is now gone so there's no telling what I'm going to end up with. Here it goes...

We arrived late Saturday night and collapsed into bed as we had all been up a good 24 hours. You can imagine our delight Sunday morning when we woke to views of Diamond Head, the ocean and the pool from our balcony. We used that day to get over our jet lag and explore the resort. What a surprise it was to see penguins on the grounds. Somewhere around 6:00 we had a delicious dinner at Benihana, stuffing ourselves silly and then retiring to the room where I think we were probably asleep by 8:30. It was 2:30 Philadelphia time, after all.

Monday we took a taxi to the Hard Rock Cafe (pictures tomorrow) and figured out our week. Usually I know exactly what we're going to do before we ever get to where we're going, but the family wanted a kicked backed and relaxed week. So I held myself back and decided to wing it. There were really only two or three things I absolutely wanted to do and one would involve a rental car. We stopped at the Hertz kiosk on the way back to our room to reserve a car for Thursday, but nobody was there so we decided to call later. We forgot.

Tuesday morning we got up early - but it was pretty easy because we were still somewhat on Eastern Standard Time - and caught a tour to Pearl Harbor. (pictures tomorrow) Wow. Or to quote Todd - what a somber experience. The Arizona Memorial was at the top of my list of what I wanted to do on Oahu and I'm so glad we did it. If you've never been and you ever have the opportunity, it's not to be missed. But take tissue.

We intended to stop at the Hertz kiosk again, but the line was humongous so we thought we'd just call from the room later. Again, we forgot.

On Sunday whilst unpacking Todd realized he'd left his diabetes medicine at home. He thought he could go two weeks without it, but by Tuesday he realized that wasn't going to happen. We had reservations for a catamaran ride (on the Mai Tai) and walked the mile or so down the beach to catch it. Todd decided (and rightfully so) he needed to get his medicine situation taken care of. So the kids and I stayed for the catamaran and he walked back to the hotel, called his doctor, walked a couple miles the opposite direction to the pharmacy and back again - all before the rest of us returned.

I had taken the battery out of my camera to charge after Pearl Harbor and told myself not to forget it before the catamaran ride. I even looked at it as I was packing up stuff for the ride. As the catamaran came into shore from the previous trip I aimed for a picture. But the camera wouldn't do anything. At all. Then it hit me. The battery was still in the charger. DRAT! It was nearly as bad as the trip to Hilton Head/Savannah without the camera. Oh, the photos I could have stunned and amazed you with. Turned out to be a good thing, though. I wrapped the camera in Taylor's t-shirt once we got on the boat and tucked it away. Then I was able to totally enjoy the ride and the sea spray without worrying about the love of my life getting ruined and thus hurtling me into the depths of despair, casting a terrible blight on my vacation. Just believe me when I say the view was breathtaking.

Wednesday was a day of chilling. We had four loungers, two umbrellas and two intertubes and hung out at the beach. Remember a few posts ago when I was talking about stubbornness? Before we went down I asked Todd if he wanted me to lather him up with sunscreen. He didn't think so because he was planning on staying under the umbrella and he'd put some on his shoulders and head before he went out to the water. He fried his tummy. I would love to tell you I was the picture of demure femininity, but that would be a lie. I was smug and, though I don't think I actually said, "I told you so," I know he and everyone else knew I was thinking it.

Todd finally tried calling Hertz and we were told there were no cars available for Thursday. That was pretty disappointing to me because the only other thing I really wanted to do was explore Diamond Head and drive around to the North Shore. I should say really, really.

That evening we met up with my friend, Cigi, and 2/3 of her delightful family. They treated us to a delicious and fun dinner and her husband proved to be a great tour guide of Honolulu afterwards. Her daughter made us more wonderful leis and we felt like royalty. They dropped us off at our hotel around 10:30 and we had to laugh because it was the latest we'd been up all week.

Thursday we grabbed a taxi to a shopping center with a guitar store - Taylor can only go so long without a guitar - and then walked from there to a really nice shopping mall. There were actually a few things we needed to get there and the food court was pretty amazing. When we returned to the resort we went swimming and then ate at one of the pool cafes and listened to a live band. Good stuff.

Friday was our last day at the resort. Todd and Taylor took ukulele lessons and Katie and I took care of some business (buying stamps, mailing post cards, etc.) and browsed around the shops for a little while. After the lessons we were to meet up and go for a late lunch/early dinner. Instead the boys wanted to go down to a shop where they'd eyed some ukuleles earlier in the week. We had to pass a Pearl Factory and Katie and I stopped to look at the pretty jewelry. When we caught up to the guys they were in their own little stringed instrument world so I told Todd Katie and I were going back to the Pearl Factory and were going to each buy an oyster. He asked about buying a ukulele and I said, "Sure. But then I get to have my pearl set here." (Do I know how to work a deal or what?)

Katie and I went back to the Pearl Factory, chose our oysters and then excitedly watched as she opened them up. First Katie's and it was a beautiful, good sized, white pearl. Then she opened my oyster. We all gasped as she pulled out a gorgeous blue pearl. Todd and Taylor had shown up by then so I got Todd's permission for the setting I really wanted - it was for our 20th anniversary, after all. It's a diamond pineapple in white gold. (pictures tomorrow) Katie got a very pretty white gold plumeria necklace just for being my daughter and riding on my coat tails.

Because we'd spent over a certain amount we got to choose another oyster for free. So I chose it and when she opened it up it held another blue pearl. Instead of having it set, however, I brought it home. I'm going to wait until we can afford the ring I want and trust me when I say it's not going to be cheap!

Then all of a sudden it was Saturday and we were leaving for the Big Island. You'll just have to come back for that week.

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Monday, July 28, 2008

Travel to Hawaii

I know you all are waiting to see pictures of Hawaii, but being the nonlinear thinker I am I have to start at the beginning. So this is a little slide show of the trip to Hawaii. As you will see (if you stick around long enough) I love clouds. They fascinate me and I find them incredibly beautiful.

Also, it was kind of weird flying into L.A. and not leaving the airport. I've never done that there before. I did get to see my beach and had a glimpse of Catalina Island. It made me a little sad. But then I remembered I was going to Hawaii and I got over it.



Alright. I'm on my way back to Flicker for the next slide show.

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Sunday, July 27, 2008

ALOHA!!

We're back on the mainland and I have made an astounding, life changing discovery. Fat arms look much better with a tan.

I have so much to tell you and tons of pictures -

I'm going to make a slide show and it will be like when you go to visit your Uncle Herman and Aunt Edwina and are forced to sit through their vacation slides on the faded and torn screen with the wobbly stand. Except I don't have any pictures of an old hairy man in a Speedo. But I digress.

That will all have to wait, though. I'm still dealing with major jet lag and am a little numb in the head. More than usual. Today I will share the insignificant things I remember.

I packed 11 books. Todd was displeased, but not stupid. He never once suggested I leave some of them here. We had to shift them around to other pieces of luggage so mine came in under 50 pounds. I only read half of them, but it was nice to have the different options available to me.

As the plane took off from Philly Todd asked where my compression sleeve was. Crikey! I totally forgot it and prayed the entire way there and back I wouldn't end up with lymphedema. I don't know if it was my imagination or reality, but I swear I could feel the change in the cabin pressure in my arm. Sort of a slightly painful tension and tingling. But I'm extremely pleased (and not just a little relieved) to report my left arm is no larger than my right arm.

We were greeted at the airport by my friend, Cigi, and her youngest daughter. They lavished us with gifts and beautiful leis that made our hotel room smell heavenly. She gave me the first "In Death" book by J.D. Robb - I've been avoiding this series for years because there are so many books - and a Harlan Coben book for Todd. Beach bags, t-shirts, sunscreen, a plethora of macadamia nuts... She really knows how to make a family feel welcome!

There was much we missed out on due to: A) Lack of time; B) Lack of planning; and/or C) lack of funds, however, we had a great and relaxing time. Todd just has to take me back, that's all. I'm going to start sending postcards to LIVE! With Regis and Kelly and try to win a trip to Turtle Bay. I think it's a solid plan.

We missed Sookie something fierce. Every bird, every dolphin, every animal - alive or stuffed - and even Taylor when he huffed just right reminded us of her. We still haven't seen her and won't get to until tomorrow evening. *sigh*

This past Friday afternoon we arrived at the Kona Airport around 1:30 p.m. or so. After a three hour wait we boarded a plane for Honolulu. We hung out there for quite some time and finally caught our plane to Salt Lake City at 9:30 p.m. Hawaii time and landed around 7:30 a.m. Mountain Time. I spent most of that flight playing poker on the in-flight game system which meant I was bone tired when we landed. Katie came off the plane talking. And talking. And talking some more. We found our next gate, sat down to wait and she was still talking. Todd and Taylor had that glazed look and I reached my breaking point. I turned to her while she was telling us something about school and a teacher and some kid and a book and raising fat babies in the sun or some such thing and snapped, "How can you be talking so much!?" All three of them looked at me like I'd pulled the pin from a grenade or something. "I'm serious! Where are the words coming from? I can't even think coherently right now, let alone talk. You make me tired!" And then we all started laughing, almost hysterically so. But it didn't keep her from finishing her story and several others.

And that is where I'll leave things so I can download my pictures. Until next time...

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Friday, July 11, 2008

Down to the Wire

Twenty-four hours from right this very minute I'll be kicking back in my plane seat, reading my fabulous book, glancing out the window every now and then, winging my way to my dream vacation. Hopefully I will be packed long before then.

Since the trip had to be cancelled last year I find myself experiencing a bit of paranoia. A sneeze becomes the beginnings of the worst flu I've ever known; Taylor's allergies run the risk of turning into full blown pneumonia; Katie's usual bike ride to Dunkin Donuts is just an accident waiting to happen; Todd's drive back from Princeton could be the most perilous yet. But that's not the worst of it.

The other day I was in Barnes and Noble, waiting for Cristie, perusing one of the tables, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a mother pushing her young child in a stroller. They were coming my way and I saw a tragic accident play out on the stage that is my mind.

The young woman was fishing in her purse for something, maybe her keys, and didn't realize the stroller was careening on a path of doom. With my back to the aisle I was oblivious to the danger until it was upon me. The lug nut (is that what it's called on a stroller?) on the back wheel of the stroller sliced across my Achilles heel, laying me out on the floor of the book store. Above the child's cries were my screams of pain and despair as I writhed, bloody and in pain. "This can't happen to me! I'm going to Hawaii Saturday!"

I came back to reality as the stroller passed safely by.

But wait. There's more. Part of the reason I am not ready to go is because I cleaned my bathroom yesterday. Not the Wham, Bam, Thank You Mam kind of clean. I did the scrubbing the shower doors with a toothbrush and cleaned out the track. A couple different plots played out here.

Scenario One:

I was overcome with fumes, passed out and cracked my head on the tile floor.


Scenario Two:

I was cleaning the hairy, moldy gunk out of the track, was overcome with grossness, passed out and cracked my head on the tile floor.


Scenario Three:

I was cleaning the door, the sharp edge of which sliced my finger causing me to bleed profusely until I passed out and cracked my head on the tile floor.


Scenario Three almost happened. I did slice my thumb on the shower door and it did bleed without me having to squeeze it - little good that did me. Todd wasn't here to offer me sympathy which is why I usually squeeze an injury for blood. But I didn't pass out or crack my head on the floor. And while it bled fairly freely, it wasn't what I would consider profusely. There was no light-headedness or tunnel vision so it's all good.

Now if I can just make it to the airport tomorrow without incident.

***

I must apologize to all my bloggy friends. I haven't been making the rounds and won't be getting to it for another couple of weeks. Please forgive a disorganized paranoid.

***

CIAO!!

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Wednesday, July 09, 2008

This Chapter's Over. Turn The Page

Yesterday was another pleasant drive into Philadelphia. Little traffic, not much in the way of frustrating drivers, great music and a Venti White Chocolate Mocha from the new drive-through Starbuck's I pass on the way to the freeway. I drove straight to Penn Tower and found a parking space without the least bit of trouble.

Since I had time to kill I headed up to the Rena Rowan Breast Center on the 14th floor to visit their boutique. I had read about these sisters, one a breast cancer survivor, who started a breast cancer boutique called Faith & Hope in Abington (a Philly suburb). I also read they sell some of their products at the Rena Rowan boutique.

The boutique is shaped a little like a horseshoe. You walk through the doors to see pretty t-shirts, jewelry, car magnets, candles, note cards, and all the "safe" merchandise. As you come to the bottom of the horseshoe there are doors to the back where women can go and try on wigs or bras or whatever they need. It was the oddest thing when I saw one of the rooms. My heart slammed into my breastbone as if someone had jumped out at me. As I wound around to the other side of the boutique I came upon the wigs and scarves and bras and prostheses and surgical camisoles. Subconsciously I wanted to peruse the lingerie and pretty scarves - almost like I was in a dream, but my rational self reminded me I didn't need any of it.

I didn't panic and run out, but I had to leave. I'm not even sure if I can put a name to the way I felt. A little sad, possibly, but not much. Maybe a little relieved that I don't need to frequent the back. I think mostly I was surprised. Surprised at what, I can't figure out. But it was almost like waking from a dream and thinking, "Oh. I don't need to be here. I should go."

So I did. I went back down to the 10th floor, checked in and settled down to read my book.

Sitting in the waiting room of a plastic surgeon's office is quite an experience. I sit there and surreptitiously observe the other patients, wondering if they're there for liposuction or a tummy tuck or botox or something noble like reconstruction of some type. Of course, I'm not quite so haughty when I'm in there for the laser hair removal. But yesterday was all about the reconstruction so I could judge. (I'M KIDDING, PEOPLE!)

The nurse called me back and asked for my height and weight. I told her 5'7" and 125 pounds. Not really. That would have been a heinous lie. Sadly I told her the truth and the horrible facts have been recorded for posterity. I put on my lovely little gown and read some more while I waited for the doctor.

As I've mentioned several times, University of Pennsylvania is a teaching hospital which means the doctor can't go any place alone. I was a little disappointed when he only had one resident in tow instead of a legion. Dr. Serletti and I chatted about Caddy Shack for a few minutes, then he asked how everything was "working out for" me and I said fine. Odd choice of words, don't you think?

How are your boobs working out for you?

Great! They're a wonder for opening up stubborn pickle jars!


After the riveting conversation came the part where I opened the gown and posed for pictures. "Oh yeah," he said. "They look great." Geesh! It all sounds so seedy! And it surely doesn't sound very professional, but I promise it was all so very clinical - even with the camera and the other guy in the room. (I shudder to think what kind of perverts are going to find this blog now.)

The entire "exam" lasted about 10 minutes. He checked out my abdomenal scar as well and liked how it had healed. So I am now officially released from the plastic surgeon's office. Time to recondition my Pavlov's response - no more flashing my girls for just anyone in a lab coat.

It seems kind of weird. This has been my life for the last year-and-a-half. What excuses will I have to drive into Philadelphia now?

On my way home I stopped off at the Valley Forge Barnes and Noble and met Cristie there again. Of course, the discussion about my doctor's appointment lead to another one of those discussions. I love how she makes me think (even if I prefer not to) and I'm going to write about yesterday's discoveries later.

I'm interested to see what the next chapter will be about. I only hope it will provide as much blog fodder as the reconstruction did!

***

Here's another post at MWC.

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Monday, July 07, 2008

Stubborn Is as Stubborn Does

I never used to think of myself as stubborn. I was an easy going, laid back kid who most of the time never had to have her way. I was usually happy to do whatever my friends wanted to do. It wasn't until I had Taylor that I realized "stubborn" comes in all shapes and sizes.

When we took him for swimming lessons around the age of four or so he wouldn't do what he was told to do. There was no amount of cajoling or sweet talking or even harsh words to get him to put his head in the water, even if he did think the instructor was pretty. He was, and is, laid back and easy going. He doesn't have to have his way all the time. But I can guarantee he's not going to do something he doesn't want to do.

Yesterday morning I asked Todd if I was stubborn. Without a moment's hesitation he answered in the affirmative. I was shocked. I think I probably sputtered. At the very least I imagined he would have waged a war in his head before speaking.

Do I tell her the truth and risk her wrath? Or do I lie to appease her and make her happy?

With no thought to the safety of his person he just blurted out, "Yes." A pretty brave, if not stupid move, if you ask me. He did go on to explain the difference between being stubborn and being spoiled. I'll give him props for saying I'm not spoiled. (Though, truth be told, I AM spoiled, only because he's made me that way.) But he said I'm stubborn because if I don't get my way everybody knows about it.

EXCUSE ME??? I told him he has no idea how many times I don't push the issue of what I want or how I think things should be. And frankly, when I do make an issue of something it's usually because I think people are being selfish.

So then I asked if he thought he was stubborn. Instead of answering he said, "Wait a minute. This is supposed to be about you and not me." O contraire, Mon frère. I was the interrogator and already had my list of questions prepared.

This time he responded in the negative. Again, I sputtered. He justified his answer by saying he can be stubborn at work, but not usually where the family is concerned. More sputtering and waiting for him to smile and say, "Just kidding."

What I came up with is we're both stubborn in our own way. I'd love to say he's way more stubborn than I am, but I'll concede that we're each just as stubborn as the other.

There. In light of the fact this is my blog and I can say anything I want to, I believe that was very magnanimous of me.

Moving along…

Taylor may look like a blond version of his dad, but he acts like me in a lot of ways. His penchant for rationalization, for instance.

It's called home work. Work you do at home. The teacher never said we had to hand it in.

If I wait another three days there will be more grass to mow, making it more worth my time.

Why do I have to watch the dog? I told you before we got her I would like a dog, but I was too lazy to be responsible.

Totally exasperating, and yet I get it. I rationalize everything. You've probably figured that out if you've read my blog for any length of time. I am the Queen of Rationalization. Not something I'm proud of, though it is a skill.

Yesterday morning I curled up in the big green chair with a cup of coffee and told Todd I was going to whine for a bit. I was just going to get it out and then be done with it. He was very gracious about the whole thing, wonderful (but stubborn) man that he is. My "bullet list" went something like this:

* I'm tired of my back hurting every morning when I wake up, making me sometimes get out of bed before I'm really ready to.

* I'm tired of the stiffness and walking like my grandmother when I get up after sitting for just a short while. Actually I never saw my grandmother walk like me.

* I'm tired of my feet hurting before I've even stood on them for the day.

* I hate that I need to be more diligent about taking calcium and getting exercise for my bones. My oncologist told me I WILL get osteoporosis before my time because of the medications I've been on and the lack of estrogen.

* I hate that I love good food as much as I do.

* I hate that I don't like exercise like I did when I was younger.

What I hate the most is how stubborn I am about all this. I'm sure you all are getting tired of reading this recurring theme, but as I stated above - it's my blog. I have carte blanche with what I write. And trust me. If you only knew the posts I've written in my head and chose to keep there you'd welcome my consistent complaining.

It's like I have scales in front of me. In one tray I put "backaches", "stiffness", "joint pain", "sore feet", "osteoporosis", "discomfort" and "overall health" and in the other tray I put "yummy food" and "inactivity". The first tray far outweighs (pardon the pun) the other and I didn't even put in the vanity phrases such as "fat clothes" and "depressing photos".

I just don't get it. Why am I so stubborn? Or maybe I'm just spiteful. I know I would be so much better off if I would eat better and exercise. And it's even more important with my history. A better diet and activity could prevent or head off so many problems and it can also alleviate so many other issues. I've been through enough, thank you very much.

So why don't I just get over myself and do what I know I have to do? It's about so much more than what size I'm wearing or a number on the scale. It's all about being the healthiest me I can possibly be and being around long enough to watch my grandchildren become parents.

Of course I'm spewing all this out only five days before our vacation. If you think I'm going to take all this to heart while I'm in Hawaii you are daft, man! Am I rationalizing? Probably. I'm okay with that, though.

It's all about changing the way I think. And getting rid of my spiteful, stubborn self. I'll think a lot about that while I'm lying on the beach. Maybe I'll be inspired there and when I get home BAM! I'll start training for the Iron Man. It could happen.

Plain and simple, I don't understand how I could go through surgery and chemotherapy to be healthy and yet I can't make myself stay away from fattening, sugary foods for any length of time. I allowed people to pump poison through my veins and yet I can't make myself walk for 30 minutes every day. Eating right and being active is so much easier than going through treatment. So what's my deal??

To round out this post, my deal is that I'm stubborn and I rationalize everything! Guess I know what character flaws I need to start working on.

I don't think I like this self-realization stuff.

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Sunday, July 06, 2008

Goodbye Andrea

Andrea at PunkRockMommy passed away this morning. I can honestly say I have never admired anybody more than I admire her. Her blog was a diary of her journey with breast cancer and the one thing that shines with every post is her faith in God. She knew her time was quickly coming to an end and yet she still wrote to encourage others. She had that "peace that passes understanding" and it was evident in every word. The post which the above-link takes you to is her last post. It talks about her passing. It is sad and joyful and moving and tragically beautiful. My heart aches for her husband and her children, but it soars for her because she's no longer sick or in pain. In fact, she's praising God with the angels in her distinctively punk rock mommy style!

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That's My Girl

Katie: I'm hungry. What do we have to eat?

Me: There's some yummy cheese tortellini salad in the fridge.

Katie: Mmm. No. I need something with meat.

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Katie: Or a cupcake.

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Thursday, July 03, 2008

The Big Picture

Do you know what this is??



It may look like a Starbuck's table, but it's actually The Big Picture. Here's proof:



Every now and then, and not nearly often enough, I meet my friend, Cristie, at Starbuck's in the Valley Forge Barnes & Noble. Cristie is an unusual choice of friend for me simply because she makes me examine those things I usually cram behind thoughts about the weather and books and what's going to happen next on LOST. She takes my mantra of "ignorance is bliss" and crushes it into dust.

Today was one of those days and she asked me if my life had turned out like I'd thought. I answered with both a yes and a no. And, of course, I've thought more about it since our visit and have crystallized my answers.

My personal life is pretty much where I imagined myself when I was a kid - happily married, stay-at-home suburban mom, family pet -- the only thing missing is the live-in maid. As far as a career is concerned, I honestly can't remember what I wanted to be. I vaguely remember thinking about the usual girl careers - nurse, teacher, game show hostess. But I don't think I ever really wanted to do anything specific.

So I told Cristie the events in my life weren't exactly what I had thought about while growing up, but I ended up where I wanted to. I demonstrated by pointing out God's plan for me on the table - it was a straight line from "A" to "B". Then I showed her the path I took and it was very curvy and curly, but it still ended up at "B". She did the same thing.

I imagine we can all say the same thing. And I also imagine if I'm at "B" it's only for a short while. I know God has so much more planned for me and I highly doubt I'll stay on His path the whole way. But I also know I'll find my way back to the course He's set for me.

Leave it to Cristie to see more than just a simple table. In the course of our conversation it became "The Big Picture". (You should have seen the looks we got while we were taking pictures with our cell phones.) So for the rest of the day I've had Deep Thoughts just like Jack Handy. Regardless of whether I'm where I thought I'd be, am I doing what God wants me to? For the most part I think so, though I know I tend to ignore his prompting sometimes just like I do the heavy subjects. I Suppose I need to get over that.

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Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Where'd I Go??

A few weeks ago I posted about our upcoming trip to Hawaii (Road to Paradise). I complained about being overweight, but said I wasn't going to worry about it. Oh, how I wish that were true. It may have been my intention, but there's no way around it. It is on my mind. Not that it will ruin my vacation because I know it won't. But it's still there.

I had an interesting (if not very common with women) conversation with my friend, Terri, on Sunday. She had asked a friend why this friend never told her she was fat. Her friend responded, "I don't see you as fat." And she's not fat! But her perception of herself and our perception of her are very different. How many people do you know whose physical appearance has been transformed when you get to know them? Pretty soon you see their spirit and not them. (Though I confess to noticing pretty clothes and nice hair).

But I don't trust others to see me that way. I certainly don't see me that way. I look in the mirror or at a picture of me and all I see is a person I don't recognize. I want to scream, "This is not me!! I am NOT this person!!"

I had gained the majority of my weight before I moved to Pennsylvania so this is all anyone here knows. I told Terri that I feel like nobody up here knows the real me. Not one person has made me feel judged on my appearance, and yet for some reason I think about it.

I'm a very open and honest person. I don't know how to be otherwise. There are certain things I may not talk about, but for the most part I'll tell you anything you want to know. And stuff you don't want to know, as evidenced by this blog. Terri said, "Oh, we know the real you." And I know she's right. This is me. The real me.

The stupidity of these thoughts is epic. I have made wonderful friends up here, both in church and in the neighborhood. They see through my physical appearance and like me for who I am. And what kind of arrogance do I have to think I'm the only one who likes people for their insides, not their outsides?

I've always said if someone doesn't like me because of the way I look then I don't want to be their friend anyway. Why would I want to hang out with someone that shallow and petty? And I truly mean it. So why do I care??

Thankfully this negativity doesn't consume me. Oh, I probably think about it more than I should, but it doesn't keep me from being happy. I know where my joy lies and it certainly isn't in what size clothes I wear.

Maybe I'll lose the weight someday. I would like to be healthier and I'm pretty sure I would feel better. But I wonder what I'll think about then.

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I have a new post up at Mothers with Cancer.

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Mused by Jenster :: 9:41 AM :: 17 People musing:

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