Thursday, September 16, 2010

I Knew We'd See Each Other Again Someday, Barbie!!

This is a rather silly post, but I was so excited yesterday when I came upon this little gem that I couldn't resist. I popped into Target yesterday on my lunch hour (one of my favorite places to pop) to get some dog biscuits and treats for my hungry little love muffin at home, when I just happened to walk through the toy aisle. No matter how old I get I still always wander there and admire the Barbie dolls. Barbies were my favorite as a child. I actually played with Barbies till I was probably twelve or thirteen, a tad senior to have been doing so. Puberty finally came between us, and Barbie and all her clones found themselves parked in the toy closet for eternity.

I didn't often play favorites with my dolls or with the outfits they wore, but once in a while something really special would come along. In the year 1985, I had a thing for the color peach. It was my signature color. I wore peach clothes, peach barettes in my hair, peach jelly shoes, peach everything. That was the year I received the Peaches'n'Cream Barbie for either my birthday or Christmas (the details are a little fuzzy). She was the most magical Barbie of all Barbies to me. Why? Because she had a peach gown, that's why!! The bustier was white with little sparkles, an orange band around the waist with a flower, and a flowing long peach skirt--complete with ruffle and matching peach boa. dreamy....

So I'm admiring all the Barbie dolls in Target. As I'm studying Barbie's newer, modern features--her legs and feet are larger now and her face is not quite as girl-next-door as it once was but instead more a sultry sex-kitten--and suddenly, there it was...


She was just like I remembered her. It was like running into an old friend, but preserved in her perfect, glowing, peachy glory. She even had her girl-next-door face back. I contemplated whether or not to buy it--it was $39.95 on sale. Ouch. As much as I wanted to, I decided that my husband would probably kill me if I brought home a $40 doll that I had no intention of playing with. Nobody could possibly understand the depth to which this particular doll and dress is a part of me, etched into my childhood memory like a beautiful phantom, etched into my soul like a first kiss.

We'll find a way to be together though. It will be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine....

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Rage Against the Machine

So kittens, it's been a while since I've posted. There's been no particular reason, other than I just got caught up in other things. This is not unusual for me when it comes to any type of writing. For example, I've been writing short stories since I was about ten years old and I seem to have a love/hate relationship with the process. I have a story I've been writing for the last year and a half--a much longer, more complicated story--and sometimes I dive into it whenever I get a spare minute, all wrapped up in my characters. Other times I don't even want to look at it. But that's a post for another day....

What else have I been up to? Aha! Yes! Making big life changes. I finally got my mojo back and decided to join Weight Watchers. This is a very touchy subject with me, but I'll go ahead and put it out there. I didn't start to struggle with my weight till I was in college. I believe this was when I began to deal with my mother's death, who passed away very unexpectedly during my sophomore year in high school. My first couple years of college were fun years, but by that third year I was living some very dark days. I was binging and packing on pounds but I didn't give a crapola one bit. I was so depressed and miserable and felt very, very alone in the world. I could kick myself now for behaving that way, as it wasn't healthy physically or mentally, but it is what it is.

A few years later, after living a very unhappy chubbo lifestyle, I literally woke up one day and decided I'd had enough. I wanted to join Weight Watchers and I couldn't get to a meeting fast enough. Something had cracked in my psyche (I love that expression--it sounds so Twilight Zone) and I proceeded to drop weight like it was nobody's business. 2004 was my year of HELL YEAH. I was like a machine. You couldn't tempt with me with chocolate, fast food, nothing! I lost 67 pounds that year, and I wasn't even done.

And then the machine broke.

My now-husband, who was then just my friend, moved back to Florida and we began dating. Right then and there I should've caught myself when I slipped. You know how it is when you start a relationship with somebody. You get completely wrapped up in What are we doing this weekend?...Okay, I'll stay a little longer (even though I should be going on my 3 mile walk this morning)...Ooh, where are we eating tonight? I blame nobody but myself. I knew I had a job to do--follow my points, drink water, exercise--but I blew it. I was so in love and enjoying this new romantic relationship that I slowly but surely started neglecting the machine. Mr. Wonderful would even ask me if I was supposed to be having this or that (not because he was trying to prevent me from gaining weight--he's not THAT type of guy--but because he knew I had worked so, so hard to get the weight off) and I would totally blow it off like oh yeah, this is in my points! I was lying through my teeth to my own self, and I actually believed it. I soldiered on in my romance, and at some point Weight Watchers fell to the back burner all together.

So where am I now, almost six years later? I'm happily married to Mr. Wonderful and am the owner of a great home and doggie, BUT, now I'm Mrs. Chubbo. In fact, I'm even worse. Not only did I gain back all of the weight I lost--which is so unbelievably humiliating for me to even write at this moment--but I gained even more. So now I'm even heavier than I was to begin with, and I have been stark raving miserable on the inside because of it. I'm not living my life the way a 31 year old should be. I've been literally hiding from everything and everyone. I even hide on Facebook. I can't bare to post any recent pictures of myself (they're a rarity at this point anyway because the act of getting my picture taken is a humiliating experience for me in itself and I avoid it at all costs) because I'm so furious at myself for how I look. I'm a mere shell of my former self--the happier, go-getter self I know I am buried somewhere deep inside. In a nutshell, it's gotten so out of hand, and I'm so angry at myself for throwing all of my hard earned work right out the window that despite many other joys in my life, I'm not in a good place. The machine may as well have turned into a rusty old '57 Chevy.

But then something happened recently. I don't know what it was exactly. My brain began to feel this itch; a pull. Something was rattling around up there like a ping-pong ball. And then it happened--it cracked! Hallelujah! My psyche cracked once again (doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-dooooooo...) and I had a focus come over me like I haven't felt in years--six to be exact. Kind of like the way the car did in that Stephan King movie Christine, I resurrected myself. I shook the rust and the dirt off and revved. I took myself to the nearest Weight Watchers meeting and began my quest for inner peace, health, and happiness. I lost six pounds in my very first week. Six. It was very symbolic to me--like a pound for each year of this roller coaster. I'm currently in my second week and still plowing through. This time I'm not stopping. I'm no longer going to use the excuse that just because I'm married and don't necessarily have the time to devote 100% of my time to me and only me, that I still can't do this. I know I can. I did it before, but this time I'm carrying something along with me--knowledge. I know now how easy it is to slide back into old habits and dangerous behavior. I know how happy I once felt with myself, and how unhappy I feel now. I know that if I just stick with the plan, that it DOES and WILL work, and that if I don't stick to the plan, it won't. I've got my oil can and wrench beside me to keep the machine tuned, except in my world the oil can and wrench is a bottle of water and a carrot stick.