The Blues

I'm sorry I haven't posted in so long.  Our internet has been total crap lately and can't be fixed at least until some of this snow is gone.  Andy told me last week that the news said even if it warms up to 60 degrees and stays that way, with as much snow as we have, it won't be all melted until the middle of April.  FML.  So until then, I struggle onward. 

I have The SAD really bad this year.  I get a little blue every winter, especially in December, with the whole Chad thing, but it's February now and I still can't find me.  I was contacted for a giveaway/review for a site selling bar stools, as well as cookware and tons of other things that I love, but I just can't pull myself out of the mire enough to even pick an item.  YOU KNOW it's bad when I can't pick a piece of cookware!  (Could you all click on that link please?  I'd like to help the guy out a bit, even if I'm down in the dumps.)

I've taken up going to the gym at night because a) exercise is supposed to release the chemicals that relieve depression and b) one of my college BFFs is getting married and sent me the final bridesmaids dresses.  As I am supposed to be the Maid of Honor (actually Matron.  That's depressing too.  I need a better word.  Can I be the "Awesome-ess of Honor"? --Say it like Goddess-- awesomess) I have to get in shape to wear this:

I was actually starting to enjoy the gym and feel better about myself when the temperature plummeted back to -5 degrees.  That blew my good mood right out of the sky.  I'm still going to the gym, but I abhor the thought every day.  

 I miss the sunshine and I ache for heat.   Are there any readers in the south I can come visit?  I got the bluuuuuez. 

 

*Janey at Confessions of a Middle Aged Suburban Diva put up another Being Bodacious challenge over a week ago... I promise I'll get to it, but right now, even writing this has been a strain. 

Being Bodacious: Chapter 2

This week, Janey challenged each of her Being Bodacious girls to pick a theme song for herself.  She says:
"A theme song should serve a couple of purposes, the way I see it. First, it should be a song YOU love. Not like, not tolerate, not think is just so-so. LOVE. Second, it should be a song whose lyrics – and even the melody – should represent some part, some essence of you. A song that makes you feel good. Gives you confidence. Lifts your spirits. Highlights your bodaciousness."

It's funny that Janey should choose music for this week.  Andy and I have decided that I'm at a stage in my life, where I just need a new iPod.  And of course, I want the Nano. It speaks to me.  I have 2 shuffles (and I LOOOOOVE them), but I need to see titles and make proper playlists and have my ENTIRE collection on one device.  So for 2 weeks I've been going through cds, getting ALL information about my music and getting my iTunes in order.  I'm missing A LOT of stuff.  But from each of those CDs, I'm reminded of other CDs.  I found one with a Carolyn Dawn Johnson song on it.  That reminded me of "Complicated" and "I Don't Want You To Go" and tons of others that were, for a time at least, theme songs of my younger years.  "Complicated" reminded me of a guy friend I had it bad for.  I used to watch music videos while I cooked with my babysitting kids and belt out the songs... They were my anthem.

As much as I loved those songs, and still love them now, they aren't me anymore.  I have my husband and I adore him even when I want to kill him.  (It's a good thing he makes me laugh!)  I don't pine silently for a friend and I don't worry about others seeing that I *gasp* LIKE this boy.  Those songs, are the soundtrack of my past. 

Then there's "The Good Stuff" by Kenny Chesney.  This is what I tell people when they ask my favorite song.  It is my favorite, so much so that I put it on my netbook.  It was also my "go to" song for this challenge.  But as much as I love this song, it's not about me.  It's about what I want to be but not what I am now.  I want those lyrics to be what Andy thinks of me someday when he scatters my ashes in Yellowstone.

Some of the lyrics fit my life now, they're the ones on my computer.  It's the part about meeting your love and getting married and taking care of each other.  That's the song of my life.

But if you want the song that I love, the song that lifts me up, the song that reminds me who I am, I'd have to say "God Doesn't Make Mistakes" by Carolyn Dawn Johnson. (I'm not a huge fan of embedding videos on my blog--they take so long to load-- so those are just linked. I hope you enjoy them.) The Lyrics are:

A couple inches taller
Another size smaller
A little curl in my hair
Used to wish I was older
Now I wish I was younger
Back when I didn't have a care
Most of the time I am happy with what God gave me
Once in a while I wish that some miracle would change me

I'm ok with the way God made me
I have my days but doesn't everybody
It's not always easy for me to believe in myself
But I gotta remember
I'm always gonna be a better me than anyone else
And God doesn't make mistakes

Mama says I'm special
Calls me her little angel
Yeah, I could almost do no wrong
But I trip and stumble
Guess that's what keeps you humble
But I pick myself up and I carry on
I'll never be a flawless model of perfection
Nobody's perfect and I admit I'm no exception

I'm ok with the way God made me
I have my days but doesn't everybody
It's not always easy for me to believe in myself
But I gotta remember
I'm always gonna be a better me than anyone else
And God doesn't make mistakes

I'm thankful for the rainy days
They only make the sunshine sweeter

I'm ok with the way God made me
I have my days but doesn't everybody
It's not always easy for me to believe in myself
But I gotta remember
I'm always gonna be a better me than anyone else
And God doesn't make mistakes




And some days--ok, a lot of days-- I need that reminder, that I'm not perfect,  but I'm me, and I'm pretty damn awesome.

Snuggle Punky

I realized today I haven't Punk'd you for a while, so I thought I'd share what we've been doing.

This is Punk relaxing after having his toenails clipped last night.  He looks so calm, it's hard to believe he almost chewed my arm off trying to get free.  I'll try to add more pictures this week.  It seems like I've been constantly busy since the beginning of the year, though I can't think of anything I've done! 

Alright, gotta get back to working on picking a theme song for the next Being Bodacious post!

Being Bodacious: Chapter 1

Citizen Jane of Confessions of a Middle-Aged Suburban Diva has started a new weekly challenge in order to remind us all of how we are all full of awesome and win.  She calls it "Being Bodacious" (Isn't that an AWESOME title?  I haven't heard the word 'bodacious' used in forever.  I'd love to see it make a comeback).  What a great idea.  WHO, again I ask, WHO couldn't use a reminder that he or she is a wonderful, talented person?  Life is busy and sometimes you forget.  Maybe sometime you take a hit at your job.  Maybe a loved one dies.  Maybe you get sick.  Maybe you just have a shitty year and forget.  This is the challenge: to remember how awesome you are at Being Bodacious.  Each week Jane will post a new challenge.  

This week's challenge is to finish this sentence: “One thing I love about my body is…”

A few people have posted that they love their breasts.  I do too.  Just a year or so ago, I would have told you they were my favorite body parts.  They were the one source of confidence for me in high school.  They've done a lot of "heavy lifting" for me.  They've been touched, both consensually and without permission.  They've filled sweaters and cuddled babies.  They've held my iPod and they've nearly suffocated the cat.  They have MANY uses.  But as I get older, I realize breasts aren't the be-all, end-all of body parts.  They get in the way.  They knock stuff over.  They get tender for no apparent reason at all.  Breasts are great, but if I just define myself as just a great rack, I'll end up BEING a boob. (That's not to say that it's not a great thing to be proud of, just that when I focused solely on my boobs, I forgot about other things that were great about me.)

Some people mentioned their eyes.  I have great eyes--well, I have beautiful eyes--without contacts, I'm pretty blind.  I can't even wear glasses because the lenses aren't close enough to my eyes and it bothers me.  They are beautiful though.  A lot of people tell you that they have gray eyes when they're mad and green eyes when they're horny or whatever.  Not me.  Mine are blue.  Always blue.  The tint changes depending on how I feel, super pale when I'm sick, sometimes blue-green when I'm really excited, but always blue.  I like that.

Some people mentioned their hair.  I don't even know how to start talking about my hair.  Let's just say it isn't my favorite feature and move on.  

My hands can do many things and do them well, and for that they earn my respect but they aren't my favorite.  

My husband tells me I have cute feet, but they make me self-conscious in front of anyone but him.  I'm still trying to change that, but I don't think they'll be my favorite anytime soon.  

Out of my entire body, the thing I love the most, the thing that makes me feel the best, has to be my skin.  I have ridiculously soft skin.  I am addicted to body butter and lotion in ways I have found not many people understand, not even other girls.  I used to have really sensitive, dry, allergy-prone skin.  I once broke out from making natural paper in Art class bad enough that my hands and arms didn't heal for almost a month.  That year, I began (what I presume will be) a life-long love-affair with lotion. 

After each bath or shower, I put lotion everywhere.  Nothing makes me feel sexier than being fresh from the shower and then rubbing lotion all over.  I am like a sponge.  My college roommate used to make fun of me for my addiction until a guy friend pointed out that I had "the softest skin ever."

My husband has told me sometimes when he has a bad day, he just thinks about touching me.  That just the idea of my skin makes him feel better.  That makes me feel like I am pretty hot stuff.   I'll be the first to admit I am probably "over-moisturizing" (I say that in quotes cuz I'm not sure I actually believe that's even possible...) but even now, when I have a rash from my birth control on my arm, that "dry" skin is still softer and smoother than any (other person's) skin that I've ever touched. 

So there you have it.  I'm passionate about skin.  That was wordy and probably sounded boastful, but skin is *my thing*.  I've taken a lot of hits this year-- from my job, from my family, from life in general so I'm clinging to that, even if it sounds boastful.  My skin is my favorite thing about myself. 

**If you'd like to join Being Bodacious, head over to Jane's blog and add yourself to the Mr.Linky!**