Archive for January, 2011

January 24, 2011

RIP Jack Lalanne

While I have reservations about the myth of the happy poor, I would agree with Mr. Lalanne that having more isn’t making us happy.  No matter how long we have, it’s a fleeting life.  Take care of yourself.  Be joyful.  Thanks for the reminder, Jack.

January 17, 2011

On the Run

There are many ways to bolt…Distracting yourself from your pain by doing a thousand different things: thinking about something else, blaming your mother, blaming someone else, getting into a fight, comparing yourself to other people, dreaming about a life in the future, recalling a life in the past, never getting deeply involved.


–Women Food and God, Geneen Roth

I’m an expert at bolting.  The golden globes are on now, and it’s oh so tempting to imagine a life of fame or a life brushing with fame and wealth and fabulousness.  My life is good now, but it would be so much better if…!  What a wonderful way to stop dealing with reality here and now.

A dear friend of mine has started a blog about upgrading her fashion choices, and dressing like she cares, as she pulls herself out of depression.  She looks fabulous.  I want to join in the fun but hardly any of my clothes fit.  How can I dress fabulously when I’m too fat to wear my clothes, and cannot afford a whole new wardrobe?  Comparing to others.  Bolt.

I made my most significant weight gain this year while throwing myself into a fundraiser for a non profit I believe in.  Thinking about something else?  Was that bolting too?

I made a significant move.

I took a step back in my career.

I make less money.

I am trying to get more real.

I know that fame, wealth, and status don’t bring happiness.  I know this, but I sometimes forget.



Ate my feelings tonight.

January 9, 2011

Not Buying

There is a lot of money being made in America by people who line their pockets with fear and hate mongering, and not without consequence. It’s a growth industry and it will only stop when we stop buying into it.

January 7, 2011

A Sign

Came across this striking story and reminder that everyone, or at least many people, are carrying heavy things that may not be immediately obvious.

I think we should just try to imagine it………that when a friend is quiet…or not showing up to stuff she usually shows up to….or acting a little “off”….or a family member is wearing pajamas to the grocery store for weeks on end……or not answering the phone…..or the lawn is not mowed…..

whatever it is……….

IT IS A SIGN. It is not a sign that can be read in words and letters, but it is a sign that someone needs to be treated gently…that they need help….most of all, that they need love, understanding…and that they DEFINITELY DO NOT need to be judged.

We should be gentle with each other.  I see I’ve been wearing a few signs of my own.  I’m going to try to remember to be gentle with myself.

January 4, 2011


Good lord, not THAT kind of purge.

I need to clean out my closet.

What is it with Americans and all of our stuff?

I have a closet full of clothes I don’t wear. I love my books, but after a few years of diligent library usage, I don’t have as much need to acquire books. I think I’m losing my taste for the acquisition of things in general.

Except for lemon trees.  I could use more lemon trees.  Like the photo in the ikea catalog.

Okay, I haven’t completely lost my taste for consumerism.

January 3, 2011

Oh Media.

Women Laughing Alone, With Salad

January 2, 2011


“The nature of epiphany is that it changes the universe without moving a hair.” –Joss Wheden

180 is what the scale said when I stepped on this morning, naked, before breakfast.  It’s the beginning of a new year, a culturally fortuitous time for turning over a new leaf, turning one’s life around.  It’s a tempting time to make huge proclamations, “I am going to change my life!”

I keep thinking about the six month rule.  I’ve been reading a lot of Malcolm Gladwell lately and I can’t remember if the idea appeared in one of his books, or in David Rakoff’s Half Empty, but the theory is this:  Six months after a major life change, good or bad, a person returns to their baseline of happiness.  Whether someone wins the lottery or loses a leg, after six months they return essentially to a level of happiness or sadness that they previously existed at.  They are themselves.

Through that lens changing one’s life seems somewhat unlikely.  Sure, the glossy and dramatic things are definitely subject to change, but inner life is a little more sticky.

January 1, 2011

I Got Fat. Again.

It’s  the first day of 2011 and I’m a few pounds shy of 186, which is the highest weight I’ve ever been, with the exception of when I was pregnant.

So.  Fat.

I’m going there, because I want to be real with myself.  At 5’3″ I have a BMI of 33, which is considered obese.  I agree that BMI isn’t the best indicator of health, but I also recognize that I’m not in the best shape I could be in.  I’m not at a good size for me.


Damn it, I’ve been here before.

I first gained weight at the end of high school, then lost it at the beginning of college when I became more active and ate more simple, less processed food. Yes, I lost the freshman 15.  (Or at least 10).  I gained weight again later in college and then lost significant weight when I started running 30 minutes a day, then 3-5 times a week in addition to taking pilates as a college class in my theater and dance department.   I gained weight again when I first moved to New York and made the transition from student to employee.  I lost weight with the help of some colleagues who had begun to see a popular nutritionist in New York who matched body type with supplements and diet and encouraged exercise.  In the mid aughts I gained weight again, first reaching 165 then topping at 175.  I felt heavy, I hated the way I looked, and I promised I wouldn’t allow myself to get that heavy again.  I began to run again, then train for a marathon. I ran the New York marathon in 2005.  I became pregnant and had a beautiful, healthy daughter.  Afterward I got fit again with the help of an amazing trainer in Brooklyn and a group of supportive new moms.

We moved back to Texas about a year and a half ago, and here I am, fat again.

It didn’t happen all at once with the move.  We live in Austin and at first I took advantage of the hike and bike trails, and swimming in Deep Eddy.  I worked out with the 30 day shred at home as well.  I felt strong.

And here we are.

I have the tools, I know how to do this.  In other aspects of my life I show up and do it, but I am clearly suffering from some disconnect.  I am frustrated to be here again.

I am still me.  Here’s one thing I know about losing weight, I’m still a goof when I’m skinny, and I’m still me now.  We are always on a journey.  Here is a part of mine.