Trying To Do Good

So...

I always feel like I'm not doing enough to contribute to the world and my community.
I'm trying to figure out ways I can do that, but not having a car or an income makes everything a bit more challenging. Not impossible, but more challenging for sure.


Anyway... I found one small way to make a difference. And I know that this comes nowhere near making the impact I'd like to make...but at least it's something.

Which is why I bookmarked The Hunger Site on my toolbar. And I try to make an effort to visit it every day.
On that page, they also have links to support breast cancer research, helping children get health care, improving literacy, protect the environment, and support animal rescue.
What happens is, there's a huge button at the top of each tab on that page. You click the button, and their sponsors donate X-amount of whatever, whether it's funds, books, food, towards whatever cause's tab you were on.
There are also ads for clothes, jewelry, knick-knacks, you name it, on the page. For everything you buy in the stores on the site, even more funds are donated to the causes.
(Go ahead and check it out on Snopes if you want - I did.)

I also frequent FreeRice.com. There, you get to take mini-quizzes on a variety of subjects. You can choose to be asked about art, grammar, vocabulary, foreign languages, chemistry, geography, or math. And for every question you get right, ten grains of rice is donated to hungry people by advertisers on the site. And if you think that ten grains isn't a lot, trust me when I say to you that the questions are addictive. You'll answer more than you realize.
Plus, as you help contribute to feeding hungry people all over the world, you're improving your own mind and intelligence. So it really seems like a win-win.
(Yeah, they've been checked out on Snopes, too.)


Anyway... I know I can do more. And I want to do more. But I try to do this, too. Because every little bit counts. And if I can even cause one cup of food to be donated to hungry people...that's one more person who'll have a little bit more to eat. And that's an impact.
And I thought that, just maybe, even if only one person who reads this actually goes to one of those sites and tries to be regular there, as well... Well, if one cup of food can make a difference...two can make twice the impact. And it can only grow from there.

So...I'm stepping off my soapbox now.
I've just felt compelled to post this for a while now, and I decided to finally post it before I put it off for who-knows-how-long.

<3

Ahh, Womanhood

So...

I should have gotten up early and ran again today. I had every intention of doing so, actually.

I have PCOS, and therefore, have incredibly irregular cycles. Like, haven't had one since January and that's not at all unusual for me when I'm not on my medication. And don't get me started on the whole medication thing...
Anyway... Because I go so long between cycles, when I finally do get to that time, the first day is excruciatingly painful. Like, curl up in a ball on my bed, please don't disturb me, I'd rather lie here under 4 blankets than get up to eat, pee, watch a movie, anything. I could eat all the chocolate in Hershey, PA quite happily. And dear Lord, I will cry at the drop of a hat. Me. The girl who doesn't cry, ever. I will cry big old tears like it's me personally whose dog died when in reality I'm just watching a commercial.
I should have known it was coming when, last night at Carolyne's play, I was reading the program and all of a sudden felt like I was about to burst into tears. For no reason.
I also should have recognized that I tend to resemble a pregnant woman in her nesting stage just before I start my period. Which was exactly what was happening when I decided to finish my room in the last two days so that I could have my own nice cozy space back. (Which, as much as I adore my brother and am grateful to him for sharing his room with me, I'm so glad I did...just in time.)

In light of those things, I'm not sure why I was so surprised when I woke up this morning to discover that my body decided, after ten months, to "be a woman" again, but I was.

I had every intention of getting up early and running again this morning, but when I woke up in pain, I decided that there was not enough chocolate in the world to be worth getting up and running at that point.

I'll try again on Sunday.




Also, I realize that some of the stuff in here is a little bit personal...
Sorry for sharing any information you may not want to hear, but... I think that's the way it's gonna be. I want to just...talk about my life and about what's going on with me. I won't share anything I wouldn't say in person, but I want to be able to be honest and open. If I'm really bothering you but you just can't stay away (haha), you can say something and I'll try to tone it down.
Just wanted to give a fair warning.
:-P

Baby Steps

I guess you could call today Day One.

I did it. I got up at 9, and ran for 45 minutes. I've discovered that, if I put a movie in, set the treadmill to one of the weight loss programs, and just keep on moving, it's actually not that bad.

I'm currently setting up my room. Feeling really accomplished.
And feeling good.

Here's to new beginnings...

Inner Strength - Where Does It Come From?

I am amazed by this woman's strength...



In her bio on the Biggest Loser website, it says that "She faced an enormous tragedy in October 2006. In light of losing her beloved husband, 5½ year-old daughter and 2½ week-old son in a fatal car crash, she chooses to forge ahead."
Which she doesn't explain here.

What blows me away, every week, is her determination. Her persistence. Her strength. And even more than that, her joy.
If I lost what she did... Wow... She says she chooses every day to get out of bed. It is a conscious choice to get up and live without her loved ones.
I think I very well might have chosen not to wake up the next morning.

Every week, Abby is smiling, cheering her team on, working as hard as she can. She is pushed by the trainers. By her teammates. By herself. And she keeps going. Keeps living.

I want to be like that. I want to have that strength. That inner drive. That faith that there is something more in store for me.
In the first episode of this season, Abby says that it was the grace of G-d that she wasn't in the van with her family that day. And that she takes the fact that she was spared as her sign that she was meant for something more - something bigger than she even knows about right now. And she's chosen to start that path...to begin to find her destiny...by getting herself right.

Not to make everything about me...but...
I have been fighting so much with myself recently. With my self-image. Because, let's face it, I'm overweight, unemployed, have no car, and feel more and more unmotivated by the moment.
I'm fighting to find the determination I need to pick myself up and change my life. I don't want to be this size forever. I don't want to be unemployed or have a job I hate. I want to have a car and not worry about whether or not I can make the payments. I want to do something with my life, other than sit in this house.

I don't know how to make that change. I'd love to make it onto the show, and get the jump-start from them so that I can begin a new me. That would be a dream-come-true.
But would it fix the problem?
Not by itself. There are bigger issues in my life than just having trouble losing weight, and I know it. I think the biggest one is a fear of failure and unhappiness.
If I try to lose weight and fail, I'll feel worse than I do now.
If I try harder to find a job and still can't find anything, I'll feel like I'm not good enough.
If I find a job and hate it, I'll feel like I'm not going anywhere or doing anything worthwhile with my life.

I don't know where to start. I'm not happy with where I am.
I'm not sure exactly where I want to go, but I know I don't want to stay here.
How do you get to a place you don't know? How do you even know what direction to head or how to begin?

I'd love to say that, first thing tomorrow, I'm going to get out of bed at 8 or 9, throw on my sneakers, and go for a run. That then I'll shower and call every daycare within a 20 mile radius, selling myself as the most enthusiastic and passionate toddler teacher they could ever employ. Then I'll get my room set up, help with dinner, and go to Carolyne's play.
But I know myself. And I know that I'll really just want to stay in bed till close to noon, then spend an hour or so on the computer while eating, set up my room, grudgingly help with dinner, and then go to the play.
And that pisses me off. I hate who I've become. I don't want to be this girl anymore. I don't want to live in my parents' house because I have nowhere else to go and no way to support myself if I did. I don't want to spend day after day dodging questions about why I don't have a job. I don't want to be lazy and unmotivated and sedentary.
I want to work. I want to run. I want to laugh and play and go out with friends and get a car and pay off this debt and get my life back in order.
And when I'm back on my feet, I want to meet someone. Because, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm 25 and honestly have never had a relationship worth mentioning. And I want a family. Lord knows I'm going to have enough trouble having kids of my own. I really don't want to have my age hinder that as well.

I don't know...I feel like I'm constantly running myself around in circles and then wondering why I never get anywhere. And I don't know what it's going to take to get myself motivated. I feel like... I'm pretty sure I know what my mental block is. I know what I need to do. I know how to do it. And I know that, once I get started, I'll keep going. I'm a creature of habit. If I can just get into a routine, I'll be golden. I just don't know how to make myself get off my fat ass and DO IT.
And that's the most frustrating part of all.

:-\

Daydreams

Some girls want to marry someone who can take care of them.
A banker. A lawyer. A doctor.
They want the money. The house. The car. 2.5 kids, one dog, and a beautiful modern home on the outskirts of the city.
One acre, tops, that the gardener/landscaper will now once a week while he tends to the flowers and shrubbery.
A daycare to send the kids to as both parents work outside the home. A quiet house to relax in at night. A husband who leaves for work in a suit, carrying a briefcase and who grabs a couple drinks in the hotel bar during business trips.


Not me.


When I close my eyes, I see a curly-haired man with laughing eyes and a crooked smile.
He's wearing a dirty hat, boots, and well-worn jeans. Behind him is a house with a wrap-around porch. Behind that, a barn. There are horses, cattle, dogs, maybe even some sheep, chickens, and goats.
Along one edge of the acres and acres of land is a wooded area. A river runs through it, and our six children can be found laughing and swimming and playing there every day during the summer.
In the evening, my husband comes into the house sweaty from working in the fields and taking care of the animals. The kids and I help his as much as possible when they're not at school and I'm not taking care of the house.
The dinner table is full of laughter as we talk about our days, the children and their father speaking with those endearing accents that they'll never lose, no matter how far from home their lives may lead them.
Sunset finds my husband and I sitting on the porch, watching the kids play with each other, the dogs running at their feet. As it gets darker, mason jars with holes in the lid are filled with fireflies, carefully counted to see who has the most.
the neighbors are just far enough that we can barely see their houses in the winter, when all the trees are bare, but close enough that the children can walk or ride their bikes to each others' houses to play.

Life is loud, hectic, chaotic.
But laughter is the loudest thing you can hear.
Money is tight.
But we never go without the things we need.
Every day is different. Some easy, some hard.
But they each have the consistency of family and love.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Just Me...

I'm clumsy.
My hair never cooperates and my nails always break.
I like colors that are too bright and accent them with colors that are too dark.
I carry purses that are far too big, and keep them filled with items that are far too heavy.
I have zero attention span and I stay up too late at night.
I'm constantly forgetting things or getting sidetracked.
I suck at math and with money.
I laugh too easily and I talk too loud.
I jump into things headfirst, without thinking at all.
I'm stubborn as a mule and I'll be the last to admit I'm wrong.
I pick fights when I feeling like I'm being put down.
I'm an instigator and a troublemaker.
I have terrible handwriting.
I hate dusting and my ironing sucks.


But if you can look past all that and let me in...


I'll love you with my whole heart.
I'll smile easily and laugh quickly.
I'll hug you often and dance for no reason.
I'll be happiest when enjoying the little things in life.
I'll always try to find the bright side of things and I'll never let you cry alone.
I'll buy you things at the store for no reason.
I'll sing silly songs with you in the car and run with you in the rain.
I'll go out of my way to see you.
I'll cook for you and let you have my share of dessert.
I'll answer the phone at 3am when you're on your way home from work and just want to talk.
I'll always give you the benefit of the doubt.
I'll stand up for what I believe in, and I'll stand up for you.
I'll give you all of me.
Always.

ARGH!!

Jenn took me shopping on Sunday, looking to complete an outfit for Melissa's wedding tomorrow. We found a great shirt that I love, but wouldn't have had enough confidence to even lift off the rack if I'd been by myself.
Carolyne gave me a bunch of clothes when she went back to Atlanta this weekend. I really liked some of the stuff, but none of it is big enough to fit me.

I'm so sick of the way I am. I'm tired of this body. Or at least the size...
I hate feeling like a fat slob all the time. I hate dressing in dark hues and men's tees to try and hide my stomach. I hate shopping and putting item after item back on the display because there's no way I could pull off the style.
I. HATE. IT.

So I kept the clothes from Carolyne that I like. I hung them in my closet, and I will fit into them.


That being said...
I'm looking for someone who will kick my ass, not let me get off track, and help whip my ass into shape.

Takers...?

I MUST Be Out Of My Mind...

To the man I can't believe I found myself thinking of right now...


Please tell me why I can't get you out of my head. I would love an explanation. It would mean the world to me if I could figure out why I found myself thinking of you at 2am, right after watching Zack and Miri...a movie that previously made me think of someone completely different.

It's been three years. Three years ago today, we were still together.
After we broke up, it took a full year before I could see you and hang out with you and not feel like we shouldn't be in the same room. It took another year before I truly decided that it was not a good idea for us to be together. And it's taken a third year for me to thoroughly confuse myself further.

Not a good time. That's what I've told myself for the last three years. This isn't the right time for us. Neither of us is ready for this. The timing is just off.
The timing is still off. Neither of us is truly ready to be in the kind of relationship we'd start.
But why am I even thinking about that? Why am I thinking about you?
I don't mean this the way it's going to sound...but you're not what I'm looking for...

I love you dearly. I always will. But...that fire...that oomph...that...that...just isn't there. Not anymore. I don't know if it went away because of everything that happened between us, or because of how I've grown since we've been together. I don't know that it could ever come back. I don't know if I want it to...

I try to tell myself that I keep thinking about you because you're safe. I know you. I know what it's like to be with you. I know how it could be. I know that we're comfortable together and we get along and we have fun and we have a lot of good memories already. I know that, if I just gave you a sign that this is what I wanted, you'd be here faster than I could imagine. I know that this time, you'd treat me right...we'd work things out...we'd make this it.
And...part of me...part of my brain...wonders why I don't just go for it. You've got enough going for you that it wouldn't be a terrible idea...
You've already got the farmhouse in Virginia that I've always dreamed of. I stopped counting how many times you've asked if I want to go there for a vacation or just to move to the country like I've always dreamed. You've got the silly smile and the goofy attitude and the relationship with my family. I can't tell you how often you make me laugh.
Sure, sometimes we bicker. Of course, things aren't always sunshine and roses. Yeah, you were the only one who came frighteningly close to breaking my heart.
But...we always work through it. We get over it. We move on.
And I find myself wondering...why don't I just give you that sign...that green light...that "hey...let's try this again."

And then I remember...
I tried that once. I loved you once. You almost broke my heart.
No, I'm not holding a grudge. It's over. It's done. It's been forgiven, and I still love you and like to see you.
But it happened.

And... You need someone to take care of you. You really do. You need the stereotypical American marriage, where the wife lets the husband think he's in charge, when really she pulls the strings. You need a woman who can handle everything, and let you be the dorky you that you are.
I understand that. That's OK.
But that's not what I want.
I want someone to take care of me. I don't want to be the one in charge. I don't want to be the bookkeeper and the secretary and the boss. And I don't want to run my household. I want my husband to truly be the man of the house. I don't mind making appointments and that sort of thing...but I suck with money. I don't want to deal with it. I want to be able to be the sometimes flighty woman. The one who, sometimes, all you can do is roll your eyes at and say "That's so her..."
And I want to adore my husband. I want to be crazy about him. I want to look at him and feel so incredibly lucky to have him, to feel like...just maybe...I got someone better than I deserve. I want to not be able to keep my hands off him. I want to want him. In every way.
I know these things aren't constant. I know that, because of my passion in every aspect of my life, sometimes I'll want to strangle him just as much as I wanted to kiss him the day before. But...I want the passion to be there...

I'm not saying that you're not great. I'm not saying you're not going to be that guy for someone.
But...when I step back and look at my life...you're not him for me.
In the almost three years since we broke up, I haven't once thought about you and thought "damn...I really want that..." I'm not attracted to you anymore. I don't get butterflies. At all. Ever. My heart never skips a beat when I hear your voice or when I see you.
I know those things fade in time. But it's never there now. And I don't want to start with nothing... Where could it go from there??
Yes, I can close my eyes and see a future for us. I can see us on your farm, with horses and dogs and kids. I can see us being comfortable and happy. But when I open my eyes, that vision is gone. There's never a desire to actually have that future. And that bothers me.

I remind myself of these things every time I think about you. Every time I find myself thinking that maybe the safe and comfortable option is the way to go. Every time I'm on the phone with you and I find a tiny part of myself waiting to hear "I love you" in the pauses. Every time you tell me you're drunk, and I text you, begging you to be safe and smart.

For the most part, I get it. I mean...this is me...this is my life. Who better than ME to know what I want.
Sure, my brain thinks this might be a completely viable option. But my heart isn't in it at all. And...isn't this the one thing that they need to be together on?
A relationship with you isn't it. I know that. Deep down, I think I've always known that.

But what I don't know is why I can't get you out of my head...


~ Kim

Comfort In Strange Places

They say that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory.
How true...

I was reading tonight, finishing Breaking Dawn for the third time.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with thoughts of the coming week. Of the planned meetings with Bubbe. The hopeful/tentative plans with Seth. The cafe and open mic on Wednesday. The uncertainty of Thursday, with the hope of some laundry getting done. The conference this weekend with the 20's in the area.
Thoughts of Jenn and Hart. Of Jackie. Heather. Of my family. Crystal. My friends in Tampa. Britta.
Thoughts of my lack of a job. Of a life.
And I felt...sad...frustrated...almost hopeless. Almost like I was alone in all of it. In all of my wanting to do something...to truly go somewhere with my life...and with my inability to seem to make that happen.

I'm not alone. I know and understand this. I have amazing friends and family. There is not a doubt in my mind that I'm never alone.

But I felt alone, just for that fleeting second.
I missed my life. My security. My independence.

A fraction of a second found me with my face buried in the binding of the book, a habit I'm not sure where I acquired, but one that comforts me nonetheless. Because the friend I borrowed the book from smokes, my nostrils were quickly filled with the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

In a flash, I was no longer standing in my bedroom at 2am, thinking about the things that weren't in order in my life.

I was at Travis' house, sitting on his bed watching a movie, while he played games on his computer and fixed mine.
I was standing in my kitchen, cooking dinner and yelling back and forth through the open door and windows with my group of friends on the balcony.
I was at Ballast with Lucy and Chris and even Rob, watching our makeshift bonfires and walking down the pier.
I was sitting on the sofa in my apartment, playfully closing the curtains as the boys stood outside smoking, using wireless remotes to play video games.
I was at Kelsie's house, talking and giggling and gossiping.
I was walking to the store with Mike, buying diapers for the kids he was babysitting and laughing at the looks other customers were giving us.
I was lounging at the pool at Camden, laughing and screaming and throwing handfuls of ice back at the boys.
I was leaning against the railing on my porch, giggling at the boys and throwing pennies down into the night below, making the frogs jump across the courtyard.
I was walking through Busch Gardens with Travis, as he pretended to be in the area thanks to a local cruise or group trip, just to bum a smoke off a stranger.
I was with Lucy and Chris and Rob again at Starbucks, all of us drinking coffee and talking about anything and everything...and nothing.
I was in my bed, curling up in Gary's arms when he crawled in next to me after locking the door for the night.

And...while there was a slight sting, because I suddenly realized that none of those memories involved Crystal... I was amazed.
Amazed that all that it took to throw me back to so many happy memories was that faint whiff of smoke.
In that split second, I forgot everything else. I forgot the feelings of failure and frustration and sorrow and worthlessness.
All I could remember were the good times. All the days I'd joked with my friends, asking them if they were trying to kill me with all the secondhand smoke.

I never thought that the thought of a cigarette would make me smile. Make me happy. Make me remember days when things were hard, but OK.
And then make me remember what I have.
My parents. My brothers. My sister. My grandmother. The rest of my large, crazy, dysfunctional family whom I love dearly.
Jenn. Jackie. Hart. The rest of my congregation, and the lifelong friends and allies I have found there.
Heather. Britta. Danielle. Mike. Rafael. All the friends who have come into my life over the last almost-25 years and who prove, time and time again, that hey are always there for me.
Alan. Ashley. Krow. Kelsie. Chris. Lucy. Mike. Gary. Everyone in Tampa who accepted me into their group, who made me feel at home, who were there for that happy summer, became my family, and supported me as I crashed and burned.

Suddenly, life wasn't so bad.
Everything was OK. Bearable. Not as bad as it had seemed just moments before.

Because I realized...
No matter where I am, who I'm with, how I'm feeling... Regardless of whether or not I'm employed or I own my own car... Completely independent of my ability to financially (or even emotionally, some days) support myself...

I am never alone.

I have been blessed beyond all measure with friends and family who love me. Who are there for me. Who will always stand beside me, no matter what's happening.

I invariably respond to the question "What's your worst fear?" with the response "That something terrible would happen to the people I love." That sentence is always followed by the addition "And being alone forever."
Tonight I realize that, regardless of whether not the good Lord sees fit to fulfill my desire to share my life and passion with a good man...
I will not be alone forever.

Funny that the "tool" I needed to have that particular revelation was the fading odor of someone's habitual smoking...

A Bit Delayed...

So...the new keyboard Crystal and Joe got me... The one that malfunctioned right away and then they kept delaying sending to me, so I gave up on it? Yeah...finally got it today.
:-P