Who am I?

How existential of me to ask that.  And really, if I were philosophizing on my true meaning - my true reason for existence - then I think it would take up an entire book and not a blog entry.

No, the question is much simpler than that.

One of the ways I know to make money when I depart for my "epic journey of lateness" and explore the US in a motorhome (est.2015) is to write.  Yay! Writing.

Easy enough.

But how do you make money at it?  I don't mean $25 here and there, I mean $1000/month. Or more.  Well, I understand I need to establish myself as a writer in a freelance world.  I need to have stories and an angle and a friend in the publishing business.

Crap.

I actually need to work at this.

So where to start?  What do I know?  Always write about what you know.  Easy.

But what do I know?  Really know?

And that's where the problem seems to exist for me.

Here's what I know...REALLY know:
How to persevere
How to raise a child
How to be a single mom
How to live (or not live) with someone who has a terrible addiction
How to juggle life - not always successfully
I know what it's like to be withdrawn, what it's like to hide.  I know what it's like to pretend you are someone else.
I know the experience of acting - from a chorus role to the lead in a musical - and everything behind the scenes.
How to have a successful marriage
How to have a successful and angst-free divorce
How to be honest

But beyond that - I'm not an expert in anything.  I have my passions, but I don't consider myself to be an expert in any field.  I can tell stories and have a sardonic wit.  I can see the humor in just about everything.  I am the first to laugh at myself.  And I find myself a little afraid of everything around me.

Insecurity is a bitch.  If I were to look at myself on paper, without knowing it was me, I would be mightily impress with the strength of that woman.  But knowing it's me - I just know that I did what every other person in this world does - I put one foot in front of the other and move forward.  Sometimes through mud or windstorms, or blizzards, or floods.  Sometimes through the most beautiful of sunny days.

I am no different than anyone else.

Except I have a way to find my voice and the voice of others.  I have the talent to put that voice out there and allow my experiences to be heard.

Is that voice publishable?

Is there anything I can say that hasn't already been said? That someone wants to hear?

I have no idea.

And I don't think I will really ever know the answer to that unless I start to write from the heart.  Not a blog - but something more marketable. An article. An opinion column. Something to sell to a small paper or two or twenty or more.

Maybe a weekly piece would be enough to carry me forward as a writer and as a way to finance my adventure through space.  Maybe those stories on the road will become a future book (yes! even with pictures!), or at the very least, a small voice heard by a few souls who still read.

I understand that today is the day I need to figure it all out.  I can't wait until I'm on the road to test the waters.  The time is now...

The first step is always the most frightening. From my experience, the next few steps after that aren't so easy either...

Interesting insight into a friend and weight loss...

A male friend of mine took me to dinner last night to celebrate my birthday. Anyone who has followed my blogs, etc, may recognize "said friend" as the man I was infatuated with for the past 4 years. He started dating a woman last February and I met her for the first time about 6 weeks ago. 

Obviously, the conversation drifted toward her and their relationship. (warning...I may get a tad snippy in this blog!) 

She had gastric bypass surgery about 3 years ago and has lost over 120 pounds. She has also had a tummy tuck and a boob job. Duh. At least my eyes could tell it was obvious. Now don't misunderstand me - I have six friends who have gone the gastric bypass route (not lapband) and one who had the cosmetic surgery. I understand. However, I also know that you can lose weight the old fashioned way - through hardwork, dietary changes and exercise. 

Here's the best part of doing it the old-fashioned way...you can still eat food. I don't mean pick at it, or avoid certain things - I mean you can flipping eat food. 

I proved that last night. I have lost 40 pounds this year. Last night I had no difficulty having a petite filet, broccoli, and a blue cheese/pecan salad with a sangria to wash it all down. Will I eat like that again today? No. And that's okay. But I can eat it. 

His girlfriend cannot. But she's "skinny" and has perky boobs. Yeah for her. I would love to be skinny and perky again. But I'm 52. Perky is not part of my body image anymore. 

And that's okay too. 

Last night, my friend told me how wonderful I was looking. How had I lost the weight? What was I doing differently? He complimented me on my hair and even thought it was time I bought a new wardrobe to reflect the changes I've made. Instead, I told him I was moving forward with my life and planning a way to travel the country in a RV - my 5 year plan. I was ready to live for me...FINALLY. He seemed surprised that I was willing to venture out - cut my roots and live by "chance." 

He thought I should live a more stable life. I should date and maybe even settle down. Find a nice man who appreciates the eclectic person I am. Like he does - but one that isn't involved with another woman. WHAT? 

The worst part was his confession that he would not have dated his current girlfriend 3 years ago before her weightloss, yet today he is considering it as a long-term relationship. She's the same person she was 3 years ago except with a ton of surgery. How shallow is that? 

Starts to make sense why he and I never dated. That saddens me. Not because we didn't date - but because of the idea that he didn't date me because of my weight. 

I'm sure I was a tad catty when he mentioned she "had" to have the surgery for health reasons. No she didn't. She lost a ton of weight and was saggy. That doesn't affect your physical health. It affects your vanity. It's okay to admit vanity - but call it what it is. Don't say it was for health issues. The weight loss was for health issues...not the boob job. 

The funniest part was when I found out how old she is. My friend is 47, and I'm 52. He can never remember how old I am because I don't look like I'm 52. I look younger. I act younger. Call it good genes - but the fact remains...today I don't look 50. I'm thankful for that. But when I met her last month I was sure she was older than me. I based that on her skin, wrinkles, attitude, the way she carried herself, oh, and the fact that she has a grown and married son. Nope. She's 43. SERIOUSLY??? When he told me that I physically choked on my drink. How embarrassing. I couldn't even hide my shock. 

Last night, he didn't seem to understand my surprise. He tried to write it off and say it was because she's had some difficult years (Really? Difficult? I can compare lives and I bet I can match her difficulty for difficulty and then some.) Well he emailed me today and here is his direct quote: "It *was* interesting after your comment about XXX's age, to see you and her standing next to each other. Not sure if it’s genes, or life, or that red-heads don’t age as well. But yes- just take it as a compliment that you DO look a LOT younger than XXX. Oh well." 

I've got 30 - 40 more pounds to lose. I will manage that in the coming year. When I'm done, I'll be saggy. But I will have done it on my own - no invasive surgery. I will be able to eat Creme Brulee if I want without throwing up. I can go to a party and not pick at my food. I will have learned what creates a proper diet and will be able to maintain a healthy outlook on food and how to eat. I will be able to move and workout. I will know the importance of a healthy life - and not bypass the efforts because I was in the medical field and had someone offer a quick fix. 

And when my friend is comfortably ensconced in a relationship built upon her vanity and his shallowness - I will be long gone, thankful my guardian angels were keeping my heart protected when all I wanted was to be loved. What I wanted he couldn't give me. Last night, it all came together so clearly. 

And all because I have lost weight. 

The sigh of relief

Biopsy's are scary things.

Just being told you need to have one can strike fear in the best of us.  For me, it became a flood of "what if's" and a constant reminder to breathe until the results are in my hand.

Last week I had a major health scare.  I didn't tell many people...maybe only four because I didn't want to be seen as over-reacting.  I chose three of those four people carefully.  One is a friend who was diagnosed recently with cancer and has gone through treatment of varying stages throughout the past year and 1/2. Another was a stable...very grounded family member....someone I could depend on to get me through.  The third was my son.  I have never kept anything from him and this was something he needed to know - at the very least to understand why I was on edge.  The fourth was my ex-husband because he called right after I left the doctor.

I knew when I walked into the doctor's office what she was going to do. I hate pain and I knew the biopsy would hurt like a SOB.  It did. And I cried. I'm not sure how much was due to pain and how much was due to fear - but the tears leaked from my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

When a person is faced with uncertainty, I believe they fall back and re-examine a lot of their lives.  I know I did.

If I were to die tomorrow, what would be my regrets? Would I even have any? Have I done what I want to do? Do I even like the person I am?

In short, I realized that I do like me and that my real regrets were for the future that may not be so real for me.  Understand, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life - but I'm not really sorry.  I've done alright.  I have an amazing son and have had some great adventures.

I still want to see Europe.

I still want to visit all 50 states.

I still want to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

But other than that, I've done okay.  My son said it best after he told me that he would stay within the moment and deal with the "worse-case scenario" only if that was our reality. He said - if he were to lose me today, he couldn't have asked for a better mother or a better upbringing. He has no regrets when it comes to his childhood.

I cried.

I've done that a lot in the last week...quietly in the dark after going to bed.  I'm not ready to leave this life.  I'm not done.  Damn it - I didn't see this possibility coming and I don't want to expend the effort to deal with it.

And that is as far as I allowed myself to go down that path.  No further.  Not until I had something tangible in my hands.

Today, I received my "unofficial" results.

There is no cancer.  No pre-cancerous cells.

Even the small pity-party journey I allowed myself to take was overkill and paranoia.  I'm going to be fine.  And while there is no definitive reason as to the condition I have - it is not cancer.  Whatever it is will not try to kill me.

I have survived to fight another day.

Today is NOT a good day to die, and for that I am thankful.

What do I want to do with my life?

In ten months, I will join the ranks of empty nesters.  As a single mom, it means something a little different for me when compared to couples or parents of multiple children.

Currently, in my world, there are two of us.  We travel as a pair. We laugh until we cry at things only the two of us may find funny.  We know each other better than a lot of couples.  But, in 10 months, we will split as we have always meant to.  Off he will go to become the man he is meant to be.

And I will start my own new adventure.

This one is for me.  Not for my parents. Not for my family. Not for my fiance/husband. Not for my son. Me. This time it is all about me.

What the hell do I do?

How many other people have experienced this?

Hundreds of thousands I expect.

I've promised my son I would "get a life" and not wallow in missing him...or become the hermit I'm so good at.  So I've been searching my brain for what I really have always wanted to do - and then figure out how to do it.

The answer came to me when I stumbled onto a auction show.  Someone was trying to auction of their old AirStream trailer.  It was from the 1970's and he wanted $10,000 for it. AirStreams are cool. Very cool.

I want one.

Wait a minute.

I really do want one.

How cool would it be to travel around the US? Go anywhere you want whenever you want? Drive your own home.

Right.  People with huge retirements do that.  Couples. People with more money than reasonable do that.

And then I thought to look into it.

The average full-time RV-er spends approximately $25,000 a year...some more, some less.  And you can join groups.  There are companies that will hire you seasonally - they will actually hire work-campers.

Okay...that would help.  But I'm also a writer. It's what I do and what I'm good at. So...why can't I find a job that allows me to telecommute from the road? Seriously?  Why not?  It's 2011 - the age of technology and instant communication.  With a cell phone, a computer and wifi (or hell, an aircard) I could be in immediate contact with anyone.

I could also write travel columns.  Or blogs. I'm pretty damned good with a camera too - so I would be able to submit pictures to go with the articles.

Dear God I could freelance.

I wonder...is it really possible?  How long would it take to establish myself and guarantee and income of $20 - $30K a year in a combination of freelancing and working various jobs around the nation?  I couldn't expect much more than minimum to $10/hour ... but that would at least cover gas & food.

I would have to downsize.  Severely.  But I live in an apartment right now ... and have started to go through the remaining boxes in my garage.  I'm already getting rid of stuff. So why not just get rid of more?  Why not just keep stuff in storage?  I don't have that much anyway.  Very little furniture that I'm attached to.  Like 5 pieces and my bed. They rest can go away. My art is a different story.  I'm actually attached to 6 pieces and I'm not sure they would fit in an RV.

Then there's the idea of an RV.  The little research I've done tells me I need a class C no bigger than 27 feet. I'll be able to tow my car behind it.  I like my car and it would be the perfect vehicle for travel.

So all I need to do is figure out how to afford an RV and finance my life on the road.

I can have a life.

I will become Terri the Nomad.

I may actually manage it by the time I'm 55.  That's 2015.

This may really be doable.

And that makes me happy.

day: I re-commit myself to me

I've been lost.

Some of you may have noticed, but I'm assuming the vast majority have not. Nor should anyone. Because I'm me and not you. Our focus should be on ourselves.

We - at least the females among us - tend to focus on everyone else other than ourselves and in doing so, forget the most important person in our lives.

I've done it the same as the rest of the women in this world.

I will always find a way to focus on others before myself. But I will make the effort to take care of me first.

And that is what I'm doing today.

Taking care of me.

This past May, I jumped into the 17 day diet with both feet and I managed to lose 30 pounds. This is incredible. This is amazing.

Then...as I've always done in the past...I started to inch my way into self-sabotage. I made excuses and found ways to cheat albeit in very small ways. The whole time I knew what I was doing. At least I was completely aware.

And I reached out. I cried out. Everytime I felt myself starting to hide away from the world, I'd yank myself up and throw myself out there publicly. Well...at least I threw myself out there into SparkPeople world.

Thankfully some people reached back. Even though many were struggling with their own weight loss demons - people found a moment in their day to recognize me. I love you for that. I needed you and there were those who ... at the very least ... acknowledged my presence and predicament.

I knew I needed to get back on track. I knew the weight would creep back up if I didn't. Thankfully, I've gained less than 5 pounds back. This past weekend was like a free-for-all with Mexican food. In the past six weeks, I've "allowed" myself to reintroduce sugar back into my system. And alcohol. And though I've maintained an awareness of each addition...I caught myself starting to let it go.

I do that. I am the best damned pity-party thrower out there sometimes. I don't know why, but I will destroy my best intentions with feelings of being unworthy.

I know...I know...I am worthy. 99% of me knows that and will tell you that. I am strong and intelligent and accomplished. But there is that teeny tiny voice inside of me that says I'm lying. It tells me that I've been faking it all these years and someone will call my bluff. It tries to convince me that there is no substance behind the facade that is me.

Why that voice is easier to listen to doesn't make sense to me. But it is. It's like comfort food. It's like a warm, soft blanket on a blustery Autumn day. It's the crackling of a fireplace and the caress of a lover.

And it is trying to destroy me from the inside.

Not today.

Today I am pushing it back down - but only after I confront it head-on. I know it will always be there - but by acknowledging it and recognizing it is part of me - I will be able to keep it in check.

Today I am back to complete my goal for 2011. To reach that goal - a total of 40 pounds lost in 2011 - I have only 13 pounds to go. I can do it. It is completely possible. Not "if" but "when."

And in doing so - will be able to reach MY healthy weight in 2012.

ch-ch-ch-changes

Fine.

I fess up.

Yesterday was a surprising mix of emotions...oddly enough I never really cried. True, my eyes "leaked" as I finally laid down to sleep...but it wasn't an overwhelming sadness...more like the closing of a chapter that I had closed a long time ago only to recognize it today.

I met "her." I did not like "her." I don't get why on earth she would be the "chosen one" over me. But she is and if that is truly the case, I never stood a chance in Hell with this man. I walked away realizing that I was the better woman.

For me to see that is huge.

For as insecure and afraid as I can be, I recognized yesterday that it is not who I outwardly portray. And why is that? Because I really am strong. I really am confident. I really am in control.

And I'm a hell of a lot of fun to be with.

Someone is out there that "gets" me and then I will be "her" for him.

So, yesterday, I walked away. Not from my friendship, but from my anchor.

Today, I am floating to the top...

As if to bolster that change, an opening appeared in a group's meetup that I've been interested in. The meeting is tonight and I'm actually going.

Now, for a lot of people, this isn't a big deal. But for me - the person who prefers to simply hide in my home - this is a huge step toward finding me again.

The meeting is only women (something I have avoided most of my life) and spiritual (not weighted down by Christianity - more overwhelming and all-accepting spirituality) something I've been drawn to for my entire life, but something I've always shied away from because of my Christian roots.

But the pull this time is very strong. Who am I to deny this at this stage in my life?

The changes are necessary for me to grow.

I've got the diet right (my huge splurge last night was very European! Bleu Cheese and wine!) and I'm starting to let go of dead weight (sorry John). I've spent the past 5 years trying to find my footing so I can move forward - and maybe, today, the time is now.

So - 30 pounds lighter and emotionally single, I step into the light of the universe and try to discover this mysterious world of women and earthly spiritualism. (sounds Wicca...no...that's not where this is going...at least not yet...)

I will let everyone know how tonight's Water Elemental goes (that's the lesson for this evening) and I will keep ya'll posted on my attempts at coming out of my shell and stepping into the big and beautiful world surrounding us all.

"I watch the ripples change their size, but never leave the stream of warm impermanence..." 

To stop judging & comparing and just be with what is

I can't begin to tell you how wonderful and smooth my thinking process is becoming between the 17DD, FatLoser.com and these affirmations. Yesterday was my 2nd 16 hour day this week - and I found myself - though stressed because of deadlines - in control. I WAS IN CONTROL! That's huge. I wasn't scattered, or flustered, or scared and I had foods in my bag to maintain myself through the day. I was prepared. And then I came home and did a 48 minute walk. 

Here's to today and our continued success! 

***** 
Our mind used to automatically make comments on everything that happened. It was always judging, commenting, criticizing, approving, deciding whether something was right or wrong, good or bad, too big or too small, too this or too that. I was so busy comparing what was to what I thought it should be or wanted it to be that I did not have time to enjoy the moment. 

Today I am learning to stop judging 
and comparing so that I can be with what is. 
I am learning to accept what is without the struggle 
of trying to decide whether it is right or wrong. 

***** 

Today - go out and enjoy all your moments! Accept them as they are and stop putting judgments on them. That is my plan today. Enjoy the simplicities of life - whatever they are and whatever comes my way. Today will simply be - today. 

I can think of no better way to face life. 

I have worried and stressed and fretted about things not being what I thought they should be - or even worse - not be what I thought others would want them to be. Not only did I have my own preconceived notions about events and such in my head, but I also had preconceived ideas about what was in the heads of other. Try living up to that! 

No wonder I was an emotional mess for so long. 

No wonder I'm fat. 

I couldn't live up to my expectations or to those I self-imposed and reflected back onto my self. What a confusing and constantly questioning way of life. 

Well I'm done. 

It is time to release all the continual second-guessing I've done throughout most of my life. There was a time - long ago - when a friend and I developed a "F**k 'em if they can't take a joke" kind of attitude. It wasn't as harsh or as uncaring as it sounds - it was simply allowing us to be who we truly are without trying to please the entire world. We were 19? 20? when we came up with that - and suddenly I felt on top of the world. I managed to have an awesome job with an awesome company - I enjoyed life and all my friends - I met my husband during this time - life was great. Sure there were bad things happening in my life, but they were suddenly manageable and didn't cripple me into submission. 

Somewhere along the line I lost that attitude. I "grew up" and became "responsible" whatever that means. I suddenly found myself trying to fit into molds...and I couldn't get off the merry-go-round of frustration. Suddenly I was back to second-guessing every move I made because I thought I had to so as to be seen as responsible. 

Here I am. 51 years old. And all those years of trying to live in the molds of others has left me frustrated and fat. 

Until this past May when I sucked it up and started to remember who I am. I allowed myself to release the pain - release the frustration - release the attempts at trying to make everyone happy except for myself. I released the chains of what I supposed was life and allowed myself to actually live life. 

And you know what? 

I'm happier. I'm healthier. I'm almost 20 pounds lighter. 

Oddly enough - I'm more balanced and therefore more able to maintain my life and my responsibilities. I am becoming the responsible adult without the suffocating restraints I thought that title imposed. 

I am finally growing up into myself. And it's only taken me a little more than 25 years to find myself back to the path I discovered when I first entered into adulthood. 

I am learning to accept what is without the struggle of trying to decide whether it is right or wrong. 

I am finding peace.

The day after...

If anyone is following my blog - you'll know that I was finally going to meet with a counselor yesterday concerning my divorce. A quick background: I divorced my husband (it was final in 2008) after 25 years of marriage. The last 6 of them he was a raging alcoholic. While my marriage had years and years of great times, they were almost all eradicated by the last 6. If you have never lived with an alcoholic - please, count your blessings. For those of you who have - I know you understand a lot of what I went through in those years.

I thought I was over everything - I thought I had found my peace and had moved on.

Well...no. I haven't. 

He still makes me angry. Not mad. Angry. I still get nightmares. I still feel that lost feeling I felt when I was searching for an escape.

He's been sober since September 2006 - the day I put him on a plane just after our 23rd anniversary for his 4th and what seems to be his final attempt at sobriety.

I was done. I told him not to come back.

Well - the counselor listened to my tale of woe and asked me why I hadn't let go yet. I told her I thought I had. Nope, she said. But she would help.

So...I feel freer already. I'm ready to be done with him. My son is 17 and has one more year of high school before he goes away to college. He's the person he is today because of who he is and how I've nurtured him. He is also a product of his environment - and he's come out on the other side better for what he's been through. The bottom line is - my son is who he is despite of his father. There is no reason for our son for me to hold onto his father. 

So why am I holding on? Because it's hard to let go after 30 years. I was 21 when I met him. 24 when we married. 48 when we divorced. I've known him over 1/2 my life. Good and bad. 

It's time to walk away.

And when I do - the counselor seems to think I'll let a lot more go...my weight, my fear of dating, my settling for life without the strength to move forward.

Today IS the first day of the rest of my life.

Learning to move forward - lose the anger, find the love

Let me start this out by saying I'm okay...frustrated, but okay. And in an odd way, I may have crossed a major issue in my weight loss journey - or actually, what causes me to have issues with weight loss. 

A little background on me: I divorced in 2008 after being married for 24 years. I met my ex in 1981, married in 1984, moved to Alaska in 1989, had our son in 1994. My father-in-law died unexpectedly in 2000 then my mother passed in 2001 - almost a year later and right after 9/11. By the start of 2002 my son and I were living with a full fledge alcoholic. The next 5 years were hell. On my 23rd anniversary, I put my ex on a plane to Washington for his 4th attempt at recovery. I told him not to come back. By June 2007, my son and I packed our car and drove to Texas to start over. The plus side of all this - my ex has been sober since September 2006.

As any other single parent can tell you, the past few years have been difficult - but I wouldn't change the choice of divorce for anything. It was a difficult decision - but the right one. My son and I are fine. 

My ex followed us to Texas, but was respectful enough to live 1.5 hours away. He is not in my face. There have been events good and bad - but all in all, we are friends. I loved him for over 25 years - I'm too damned old to be angry. 

And that may be the problem. There are times I still am. There are things that he says or does that bring it all back up - the anger, the nightmares, the frustration - it all comes back. 

I try. I do. I don't want to have these emotions come back. I want to move forward. I want to find someone else to love and be loved by. I know the only way to move forward is to forgive. I thought I had. I seriously worked hard to let it all go. It's not like it's the first "trauma" that I've experienced. I'm strong - I know I am. So for me to still get as angry as I do about his actions (or lack thereof) is almost baffling. 

So...after months of my son asking me to get counseling - I'm doing it. I meet with a counselor tomorrow afternoon. I'm tired of not sleeping. I'm tired. 

And what does this have to do with my weight loss journey? 

I'm an emotional eater. I have spent the past 17 years punishing myself with my weight. It's like I have an inner voice that says I don't deserve to be a healthy weight. It's like when I get angry at someone I love that I punish myself by destroying my weight. Always. Everytime I've experienced the anger, the frustration, the emotional crap - I eat. 

Today I realized I didn't eat like that. And I didn't do it yesterday. Or last week. Or the week before that. (believe me - there has been cause) 

This is huge. 

I'm not sure I'm "cured" but I have a control that I've never had before. I'm not sure exactly why. It's not that I've lost weight, because that has never worked before. It's not because I'm communicating with my SP friends - or my son - because I also tend to hide or hermitize myself as I like to call it. So, no...that's not it. 

I really don't know why. 

But I'm glad. 

Maybe...I'm really moving forward this time.

17-day diet: today is #17 and I've done pretty damn good :)

Today is #17. I've made it. I've eaten fruits and vegetables and yogurt. I've drank green tea and survived. 

3 weeks ago I would have told you you're crazy if you said I'd be eating healthier today. 

I have tried every diet out there from Weight Watchers to Jenny Craig to Atkins to South Beach and every little one in between. I've cut calories. I've walked thousands of steps a day. Have I done it all at the same time - well duh...no. That would have been somewhat intelligent - and there is no intelligence when it comes to a fat person trying to lose weight. 

Even when I thought my heart was in it - my stomach wasn't. 

And today - while my muscles still aren't in the game - things have changed. 

I feel lighter. I feel as if my stomach is flatter. OMG - I feel thinner. 

In 17 days. 

Tomorrow, I'll be back home with my scale and my measuring tape to mark my true change. I know there is a loss of weight - a bout 8.5 pounds. There has to be a loss of inches. Even if it's only a 1/2 inch here or there...there's a difference. 

Tomorrow I start cycle 2. I get to start reintroducing carbs into my diet plan. Potatoes? yum. But this morning it was if I didn't really care. How strange. I was almost sad to think a carb was coming back. That's not necessarily good thinking. I have to recognize that reality says carbs exist and will, therefore, appear on my plate periodically. 

It's okay to eat them in moderation. It's okay to eat them if they are healthy. It's not okay to make an entire meal of them. It's not okay to neglect probiotics and veggies and fruit. 

The 17DD is a plan that teaches us how to eat again. The right way. The healthy way. It's carried me well in the past 17 days. I expect it will do the same for the next 17. 

I'm encouraged by the others in the 17DD group on SP. They are women - just like me - who are at various stages in the plan. All of them lose weight. All of them. All of them have issues, concerns, stress, humor and milestones. All of them are still living their lives and sticking to the plan. 

There's no counting, no weighing...just mindful eating. It's so simple. And it works. 

I need to count today as a success - because today I weigh at least 8 pounds less than I did 17 days ago. Tomorrow starts another cycle of 17 days and at the end of it - June 16 - I will weigh less than I do today. Even if it's only 3 or 4 pounds...it's less than before and less is always good. 

I've off to eat an orange...maybe grab a little protein and yogurt to start my day. Then ... 

WATCH OUT WORLD! HERE I COME!  

She's taking chances...

She gets rock n roll a rock n roll station
And a rock n roll dream
She's making movies on location
She don't know what it means
But the music make her wanna be the story
And the story was whatever was the song what it was
Roller girl don't worry
D.J. play the movies all night long

I remember hearing this song back in the dark ages of the late 70's.  A friend said the song was "my" song.  It was me that Dire Straits was singing about.  I was a flattered 19 year old, stepping out onto the brink of adulthood - no holds barred, nothing to keep in check, the world at my feet.

My life WAS the songs I heard on the radio.  I lived for music - the poetry of my soul.  My hopes, my dreams, my loves, my failures.  They were all there on the radio. 

But the roller girl she's taking chances
They just love to see her take them all

Chances.  

I remember those.  

I took them head on with a smile on my face.  

Looking back, I see a girl who was never afraid.  But I know better. I was always afraid. 

 Except now, it's more noticeable.  I'm more cautious.  I don't pick up and dust off nearly as well as I once did.  Probably because I've learned - you can't always live in that dream world.  Sometimes, no matter how hard you fight reality - Reality creeps in and rules the day.

When I was much younger - before my skateaway days - I never really dreamed.  Reality was horribly there - every day - telling me what I could or could not do.  It was painful and blantant.  And it never left my side. 

Nope.  Love was never coming.  No white knight.  No castles.  No beautiful wedding gowns flowing over the fields as my prince swept me into his arms.  

Never as a young girl did I dream of that.  I was different.  I knew it.  No matter what - it was never going to happen for me.  I was told that - I was shown that.  I believed that.

Then the wheels hit my feet.

Hallelujah here she comes queens rollerball
Enchante what can I say dont care at all
You know she used to have to wait around
She used to be the lonely one
But now that she can skate around town
Shes the only one

I could fly.  I could reach out and pass by all the hurt and the pain of childhood.  I was invincible and alive.  Nothing was going to bring me down as I sailed away on avenues never available to me before.  And that is how I met him.

I was on top of my game.  I wasn't needy.  I wasn't vulnerable.  I was everything I could ever want to be.  I was me.  He was the truck grazing my hip and the seduction of the city.  He was my taxi driver - and I was his matador.  And I fell in love.

No fears alone at night she's sailing through the crowd
In her ears the phones are tight and the musics playing loud

Somewhere along the way - the phones were removed from my ears.  The music faltered and quieted.  But it was okay.   I had the dreams I had never allowed myself.  I had the music we created together.  I had him and I had love. 

Yet somewhere, somehow, over the years - the music ceased to exist.  I don't remember even losing it.  But I do remember waking up one day and realizing it was gone.  It was all gone.  The music, the dreams, the love, the feel of the wind on my face as I sailed into the crowd.  I wasn't sailing.  The crowd wasn't parting.  My feet were like lead weights.  The whirlwind of fantasy was no longer something I could see.  Instead, there were traffic jams and horns blaring and the pain of a gray city.

I wanted out. I wanted my skateaway.  I wanted my freedom and life back.

I rediscovered the song just a little while ago.  

I rediscovered music again.  

The dreams, the laughs, the hopes, the falls.  It's all there.  Again.  In my life. And I'm starting to feel whole.  It's almost as if I'm 19 all over again - and the blip in the middle was only that - a blip. 

She's back.  

That rollergirl - she's taking chances.  

And this time...I know to be careful of the trucks and the taxis and the traffic surrounding me.  I know...the wheels on my feet can slip on the pavement.  I also know...I can fly...

Come slippin and a slidin
Lifes a rollerball
Slippin and a slidin
Skateaway thats all
Shala shalay hey hey skateaway
Shes singing shala shalay hey hey
Skateaway