Happy February!
January has been a busy month for me and February kicked off in a fairly crappy way. Since it’s the first of the month though, it’s time for some poetry and since February is the month of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d share with you one of my all time favorite love poems.
This has always been and always will be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read!
I think the look I’m giving whoever is taking this picture perfectly sums up this outfit. Oh poor me! I just want to reach back and shake that girl and tell her everything that is wrong here. I guess we all have to go through this stage. Unfortunately, I had to go through it all at the same time. Note the baggy button up shirt and stirrup pants. My mother would tell you this was my uniform back then. I also used to wear a headband everyday – looks like I had either progressed past that stage here or figured I didn’t need one since I was home. Also note the socks that don’t match the outfit and aren’t even passable as special occasion or decorative socks. They’re just teal. With a light purple shirt. (I remember it distinctly – it was a lavender color, despite coming off as white in this shot).
Also note I had yet discovered eyebrow plucking.
But I had discovered books! This was also a staple, me always having my nose stuck in a book. It’s pretty much the same now, only I have an electronic reader and I’ve graduated from Sweet Valley to Harry Potter or The Hunger Games. LOL
AND …. the kicker is, I’m wearing almost exactly the same thing in this photo, which was taken probably sometime around 1994 or 1995 (making me about 13 or 14) as I am in this photo, which was taken probably four or five years later in the summer before my junior year, so I would’ve been about sixteen there. Except in the later one, the pants aren’t stirrup pants but flared dressy club pants. Same concept though. At least this shirt wasn’t see through.
This is a picture of a badly taken Polaroid so bear with the quality please.
This is the same crew I talked about running with back in this photo. Sadly, the only people I can remember are the guys directly around me (I’m fourth from the right, if you couldn’t tell). The people on the outer part of the group I couldn’t tell you their names if I tried. This is us on a non-clubbing night at the local pool hall slash game room. Note: the local pool hall slash game room is a town of about 4,000 people in the middle of rural North Carolina.
I actually like this picture of me for the most part except that I feel like you can kind of see through my shirt. Actually, you totally can. And someone should’ve told me that in this case, I should’ve worn a tank top underneath it. Except maybe I was going for that look back then. I think we’ve already established the skankiness factor (note: in appearance only, not practice, thank you very much!)
I did have some great times with this crew! They brought life into what would’ve been a few quiet summers.
The thing I have to keep telling myself is that this is not ALL OR NOTHING.
This is not go out and spend a hundred bucks on workout clothes that would eventually be used for lounging on the couch.
This is not buy a gym membership that will never get used or an expensive workout machine that will only collect dust or clothes in the corner of the bedroom.
This is not cut everything out of my diet. This is not eat Lean Cuisine’s for lunch and sneak the Weight Watchers shortcuts in that still aren’t the best choices (pudding, Rice Krispie treats, etc.).
This is not work out one night and eat healthy for a day and step on the scale to see a loss of five pounds.
This is not a diet. This is not a program that lasts until I reach a goal weight and then everything goes to shit and the pounds pack back on.
This is a lifestyle change. It is a slow process. It is the build up to a different way of living, to making healthier choices without depriving myself of the deliciousness that this world offers.
It is learning to enjoy moving my body and the adrenaline rush that comes after a long and sweaty workout. It is knowing I am going to sleep like a rock and wake up feeling refreshed in the morning because I didn’t skip my work out. It is knowing I can go out and be active, whether it’s hiking in the mountains or riding the ATV’s we plan to buy, without getting winded or holding up the group.
It is knowing that I can have those Reese’s Peanut Butter Miniatures or those French fries but I’m going to have to work for them later. It is not really wanting either of those things in the capacity that I used to, knowing that one or two will satisfy the craving and that I won’t ever feel gross or sick to my stomach because I just kept shoving the crap in my pie hole because it was SO DELICIOUS and I DIDN’T WANT TO WASTE IT!
Even though I am in this photo looking a hot mess, that is not what I want you to focus on. Look behind my “Mom bursts into the room with a camera the morning after prom and I’m still sleeping” face and focus on the room, especially the walls. Don’t you love them? Isn’t that classy? Because in high school and mostly through college, I thought the whole concept of decorating meant you take as many pictures of hot boys and plaster them like wallpaper all over your walls. Or posters of the music you listen to – this was my “gangsta rap” stage – THUG LIFE BITCHES! This picture does not show that directly above me, on the peaked ceiling, there is another Tupac poster, a Biggie poster and a Diddy “No Way Out” album cover poster. I just pretty much assumed that every spare inch of wall space should be covered in something – pictures, glow in the dark stars, sparkly disco balls.
If you look closely, you can see the original Polaroid of this photo hanging on the wall.
Also, that is a waterbed I am sleeping on. That’s how awesome I was! (Can’t you tell by the bangs?)