It's been 8 months since I've last blogged. I've had serious thoughts on why I have been avoiding writing. I mean, there has been PLENTY to blog about. In the last year, my love life has been quite the roller coaster. In some instances, more like a gypsy freak show at your local carnival. And maybe even bouncy house-like (I mean, if we are perpetuating the carnival motif). If I didn't think this info would make it back to my mother, I might fill you in. For another blog post, perhaps.
Anyway, my writers block has been more like a stubborn dude who hates talking about his feelings. It felt like that, like I didn't want to hear myself nag and nag about my life. Also, I have pretty awesome friends that do tolerate my nagging and bitching. Why blog to the one person that reads this (hi besty), when I can moan to a core group of dear confidants?
At the risk of losing said confidants, I decided it was time to come back to the ETFGW (what a freakin acronym) blog. So here I am. Ready to bitch.
I could catch you all up on life, and how wonderful it's been. For instances, I just came back from Dubai and India. And it was beautiful and life changing. Sort of taught me not to bitch about my life, that I am ready blessed to have what I do. I suppose said lesson isn't very apparent in this blog, huh?
I have been very satisfied professionally, and I continue to live in my wonderful rent-controlled apartment with the most cutest felines ever. My mom is healthy and my family and friends are simply the best!
Have I lost the 35 lbs I have been trying to lose for 3 years? If I had, you know that would have been the FIRST thing to mention. This blog is about getting healthy after all, isn't it? I am actual content in my current body. I know for health purposes and because muffin tops are only cute on cupcakes and squishy puppies, that I'll eventually lose it. It's a work in progress. And I am OK with that.
Yep, life is great. Wonderful. But at this moment, I am melancholy. And I have been for most of the day. You see, guys, I have been swept off my feet. This cynical city girl is completely smittened. And it sucks. And it's also wonderful. But it also sucks. For starters, he lives in west bubba fuck. Literally. Like on the other side of the planet. We can't have a conversation without one of us falling asleep because of the ridiculous time difference. God knows when we'll see each other again. And, the worst part, I really care for him.
Typically, the latter would be a positive. Falling for someone is a beautiful thing, one everybody should experience at least once in their life. However, falling for someone who breaks your heart is not the most beautiful thing. In fact, it's the worst. I mean, listen, you survive and your learn . . . blah blah blah. It makes you stronger and God knows everything. I get all that. But it still sucks major ass. And because of this, I have built some hefty walls around my heart. Like super hefty walls that can protect a castle from the most vile of villains on the Game of Thrones (I don't actually watch the series, but I feel as though sturdy walls are key to long-term survival on that show). These walls have kept me away from romantical shit. They've protected me, my heart from devastation. They haven't been 100% reliable, though. Last year, I let them down, and fell for some one who really tested my faith in people. He was an imposter of sorts, and, you guessed it: he broke my heart. So I plastered them bricks up again, and the walls have been stronger and sturdier ever since. And I had been OK with that.
Or so I thought.
During my travels, I had a spark with someone, a connection that was fueled by intense passion. Again, if I knew my mom would never find out about this, I would share the details. For another blog post, perhaps.
He's been nothing short of . . . amazing. A soothing respite from the cynical sores my heart is accustomed to tolerating. But I can't seem to enjoy it. My walls aren't budging. Sure, a few bricks have fallen off, and I've allowed some visual access to my heart, but they are quickly reinstated. And I may miss out on one of the most beautiful experiences that one can feel.
To be in love.
I've been there before. It's a great feeling. But worth the heartbreak? I just don't know.
So that's what's on my mind. That's why I am sad. Because I can't allow myself to enjoy this person. Someone who has made me laugh a ton, smile a whole lot, cry for good purposes, explore another way of life. Someone who is constantly thinking of me, who asks about what I had for breakfast, who wants me to meet his family, who enjoys my mother's giggle, who loves my friends as much as I do, who would do anything to bring me joy. Also, and may I just say, someone who is . . . probably the best I have ever had (for another blog post, perhaps).
I am praying about it (in addition to my hussy ways as noted above). I am not making any crazy decisions. I most likely won't for a very long time. I just have to figure out what to do with these walls. And to see if they can come down once and for all.
C
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Silence is the best policy
I have been very vague about 2014. Which almost feels like I'm about to burst. You know the feeling. That moment you devour a huge meal after fasting for 7 hours because you can't get up from your desk, because you are swamped (or lazy). And your stomach starts to punish you for neglect. And you feel like your pants are about to burst. Or your small intestine.
Maybe that just happens to me.
In any case, for many reasons I am actively trying to keep my mouth shut. Having trusted easily, having been betrayed by the "promise me you won't tell anybody" followed by a "dude, I never repeat anything" time and time again. It all makes me feel so dumb. Like, way past naïve. Like, simply stupid. I'm 33 years old and I still fall for it. I see the good in everybody, or I want to see good in everybody.
Why do I like to share so much? I don't know. Well, maybe I do, but it sounds infantile and dumb.
See, I love helping people. I love it because it makes me feel so elated, so refreshed. Like that moment you seek refuge from a 100-degree humid summer afternoon by walking into an over-air-conditioned store. It brings new life to me. Relief that I can make someone happy.
Told you it was dumb. It's also clearly very selfish. Yes, I hate seeing anybody in pain. Especially kids. Also, one of the reasons I am a vegetarian is because the insurmountable pain that is felt for that burger just doesn't seem worth it. Animals in turmoil is one of my kryptonites.
That said, I also feel this endorphined-soaring sensation when I can help someone. This joy and moment of peace. If only for a split second. I feel I have purpose. And that's what we are all after, right? purpose?
The problem is, in the last 9 months my purpose hasn't been so clear. Fuzzy, even. A sudoku puzzle in the beginning stages has more clarity than whatever the hell my purpose is. But it doesn't mean I didn't still seek the refuge of helping others (ironic, isn't it?).
And so, I am (well, was) willing to be an open book and share my experiences, if it means bringing joy or enlightenment, or even entertainment, to someone. Hearing someone laugh at my words is magical. No matter the mood I am in, my right cheek exposes my one and only dimple (on my face, any way) when I can cause laughter.
In addition, if my words can help someone, in any way, it just feels like . . . I don't know. I don't know what word to use. It's a very pristine feeling, primitive perhaps. Very much untainted from the cynical mishaps of my life.
But those moments don't seem very worth it anymore. I feel completely guarded. To love, to friendship, to people. Even people on the street. I don't like to be approached, and so I have this real serious mug on my face. Like I'm gonna choke a bitch. Which is HILARIOUS, since my voice is as pitched as a hamster. As street as I am (lol), I'm not capable of throwing my arms down. Or whatever that saying is when you punch someone.
Just random words, you guys. Random thoughts in my head at 2am in the morning.
My assistant is out for a week and a half. Which means I am manning the fort solo. Which means I better get some good sleep to prepare for Monday.
xo
Maybe that just happens to me.
In any case, for many reasons I am actively trying to keep my mouth shut. Having trusted easily, having been betrayed by the "promise me you won't tell anybody" followed by a "dude, I never repeat anything" time and time again. It all makes me feel so dumb. Like, way past naïve. Like, simply stupid. I'm 33 years old and I still fall for it. I see the good in everybody, or I want to see good in everybody.
Why do I like to share so much? I don't know. Well, maybe I do, but it sounds infantile and dumb.
See, I love helping people. I love it because it makes me feel so elated, so refreshed. Like that moment you seek refuge from a 100-degree humid summer afternoon by walking into an over-air-conditioned store. It brings new life to me. Relief that I can make someone happy.
Told you it was dumb. It's also clearly very selfish. Yes, I hate seeing anybody in pain. Especially kids. Also, one of the reasons I am a vegetarian is because the insurmountable pain that is felt for that burger just doesn't seem worth it. Animals in turmoil is one of my kryptonites.
That said, I also feel this endorphined-soaring sensation when I can help someone. This joy and moment of peace. If only for a split second. I feel I have purpose. And that's what we are all after, right? purpose?
The problem is, in the last 9 months my purpose hasn't been so clear. Fuzzy, even. A sudoku puzzle in the beginning stages has more clarity than whatever the hell my purpose is. But it doesn't mean I didn't still seek the refuge of helping others (ironic, isn't it?).
And so, I am (well, was) willing to be an open book and share my experiences, if it means bringing joy or enlightenment, or even entertainment, to someone. Hearing someone laugh at my words is magical. No matter the mood I am in, my right cheek exposes my one and only dimple (on my face, any way) when I can cause laughter.
In addition, if my words can help someone, in any way, it just feels like . . . I don't know. I don't know what word to use. It's a very pristine feeling, primitive perhaps. Very much untainted from the cynical mishaps of my life.
But those moments don't seem very worth it anymore. I feel completely guarded. To love, to friendship, to people. Even people on the street. I don't like to be approached, and so I have this real serious mug on my face. Like I'm gonna choke a bitch. Which is HILARIOUS, since my voice is as pitched as a hamster. As street as I am (lol), I'm not capable of throwing my arms down. Or whatever that saying is when you punch someone.
Just random words, you guys. Random thoughts in my head at 2am in the morning.
My assistant is out for a week and a half. Which means I am manning the fort solo. Which means I better get some good sleep to prepare for Monday.
xo
Sunday, August 17, 2014
It's been a while
Where to begin. So much has happened in the last 11 months, I honestly feel overwhelmed with what to say here. So, in true Claudia fashion, I have derrived a list to summarize what the journey has been like. Here goes:
1-Gained about 40 of the 60lbs I had lost 2 years ago
2-Lost 15 of those 40 lbs
(The math is confusing, I know. The PS of it all is the scale is going down. For the first time. In over a year).
3-My professional life had some major achievements, but also, some major devastation.
4-My love life had major achievements, but also, some major devastation.
5-Still have 3 cats, you guys :)
6-I gave up on the one relationship that became progressively abusive in the last 12 months. Happy to report, I have been sober for 101 days.
7-I survived depression. Not the financial/economy kind, either. Still struggling, but surviving.
8-I say "my therapist says" at least once a day. My friends find it amusing/comical.
9-I've reconciled with the gym. Some days, I still think the gym is an asshole. But we are getting there.
10-My OCD needs to have ten things on this list. Trying to put something profound and introspective here. I've got nothing. So here's something not so deep: I finally picked up my dry cleaning after months and months and months. Tommy (the owner from Tom's Dry cleaning in Sunnyside) is eternally grateful, greeted me with a smile, and did not stir up any guilt.
I'm blessed to say, in the last 12 months, I've survived because of all the Tommy's in my life (you know who you are). And because of God, of course.
I'm sure there's so much more to say. At this moment, right now, my brain is flooded with stories I want to share with you, but all in due time.
I'm ready to share, I guess. For the few of you that have been checking in, I appreciate it :)
Talk soon xo
C
1-Gained about 40 of the 60lbs I had lost 2 years ago
2-Lost 15 of those 40 lbs
(The math is confusing, I know. The PS of it all is the scale is going down. For the first time. In over a year).
3-My professional life had some major achievements, but also, some major devastation.
4-My love life had major achievements, but also, some major devastation.
5-Still have 3 cats, you guys :)
6-I gave up on the one relationship that became progressively abusive in the last 12 months. Happy to report, I have been sober for 101 days.
7-I survived depression. Not the financial/economy kind, either. Still struggling, but surviving.
8-I say "my therapist says" at least once a day. My friends find it amusing/comical.
9-I've reconciled with the gym. Some days, I still think the gym is an asshole. But we are getting there.
10-My OCD needs to have ten things on this list. Trying to put something profound and introspective here. I've got nothing. So here's something not so deep: I finally picked up my dry cleaning after months and months and months. Tommy (the owner from Tom's Dry cleaning in Sunnyside) is eternally grateful, greeted me with a smile, and did not stir up any guilt.
I'm blessed to say, in the last 12 months, I've survived because of all the Tommy's in my life (you know who you are). And because of God, of course.
I'm sure there's so much more to say. At this moment, right now, my brain is flooded with stories I want to share with you, but all in due time.
I'm ready to share, I guess. For the few of you that have been checking in, I appreciate it :)
Talk soon xo
C
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Ramification Hell - Vlog
Gonna try this Vlog thing again, guys!
Enjoy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98ZvbL3KHc8
Just some more info to add:
I actually had ZERO dee
Enjoy!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98ZvbL3KHc8
Just some more info to add:
I actually had ZERO dee
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of . . . WAIT! WHAT!?!?!?
I was going to blog about these amazing Cheetos (Jalapeño flavor) that I can only find at the vending machine at work, and how I have been on a mission to hunt them down elsewhere. Having cheesy fingers and potential residue arount your face because you eat like a five year old (or most grown men) isn't exactly a sure fire way to a promotion. Not to mention the crunching sound that comes from your cube every other day at 3:47pm. So I've been trying to find them off company grounds.
I'll save that gem for another time. There's something a little more . . . intense that is on my brain. Allow me to begin:
So this happened this weekend:
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which then caused this thought to happen:
followed by a panic which brought about this solution:
Now. before I get massive texts, emails, calls, calls to my mother, calls to my pastor, etc., let me explain.
Firstly, that cutie patootie that I am holding in the photo is by best friend's niece. She is absolutely stunning. I never realized how precious newborns are.
Secondly, everybody who knows me is well aware that I swore off having children years ago after I saw a youtube video on giving birth. Also, because the idea of having some one's life in my hands and the opportunities to screw them up was something I wasn't too crazy about pursuing. And finally, because I love to sleep late.
That said, within the last year, I've noticed some, um, not so pleasant reactions to baby crap. For example, not to long ago I went into Target at 10:30pm, with 30 minutes to spare because I ran out of detergent. I was one day away from using my Bath and Body works handsoap to do laundry if I didn't get detergent right then and there. Could I have gone to the local drug store? Sure. But Target is way cheaper and who doesn't love a late night visit to Target?
Anywho, I was skipping around the store applauding the fact that the crisis at hand had been averted when somehow, I ended up near the baby section. Normally, I run the other way, or make a dash for the purse section right across the baby stuff, and I was about to, when all of a sudden, my eye caught the following:
Usually I would just glance and mosey along. However, that evening, holding a bulk bottle of Tide (with bleach alternative), I found myself . . . getting warm. On my face. Near my eyes. Then, without any notice, I started to well up. Cry! Like a bitch! I mean, I wasn't sobbing or anything, but there was definitely sniffles, and, possibly, a whimper.
WTF?!?!?!? I had never EVER had a reaction to a piece of clothing (well, maybe when bell bottoms made an appearance in the early nineties). I certainly have never had any kind of reaction like that when it comes to baby stuff. I knew I needed a quick fix to get over this bizarre moment. I did what any adult would do in a time of crisis. I bought myself a snickers bar.
And that helped 100%! I paid for my Tide (with bleach alternative) and headed home. I chalked up that crazy reaction to my die-hard dedication to the Mets, and how awful they are, and pms, and never gave it another thought. I have, on occassion, used this story to entertain my friends during happy hours, dinners, and phone calls. Everybody got a laugh out of it! So I decided to laugh it off, too!
Until this weekend. I went up to VA to see my best friend and her family. Her niece had just been born so we went to visit her. I had no plans to hold the little one, since some parents are super sensitive to that, and also, I can barely hold a can of Goya beans without dropping it, so for the safety of everybody, I was just gonna "goo-goo, gah-gah" the kid from afar.
The only problem was, I didn't expect to fall instantly in love with the baby. She is gorgeous. And teeny. And innocent cheeks like a cherub. So peaceful and vulnerable, and a part of a wonderful family, with two parents who were elated to have her here. It was all so unexpected for me to take in.
"Wanna hold her?", her pops asked. I usually respectfully decline, but I found myself getting elated butterflies in my belly and saying, slightly apprehensively, "Sure."
As I got into position (my bff and her sister coaching me through hand placement, arm stability, and overall relaxation), I started to mildly panic. But there was no time to address it, because my bff placed the baby in my arms. And she melted in, like butter through the crevices of a baked potato. It was perfect.
"Hi, pudding!" was all I could say. Because, within seconds, that same warm feeling from that fateful Tuesday evening at Target started to invade my eyes. That lump in my throat started to grow and I felt my voice sink into my belly. Oh no! I thought. I couldn't do this here. I was surrounded by everybody in the room, and I knew I would be caught! Don't be that girl. Don't be that girl!!! I continued to think. You know what girl I am talking about:
The girl that I fear more than anything!! I usually can't bond very well with said girl. I've met many of them along my journey, and they are usually very lovely. But babies drown the very essence of their brain. In all capacities. With visions of baby showers, choosing names, and whether or not circumcision will happen already planned out!! I can barely plan out my outfit for the day!
And suddenly, I felt Baby-Crazy Claudia evolving. And I let her be for about 7 minutes. I held back the tears and just smiled my ass off as I stared at this kid, who, not even a week old, had capativated a career woman from New York City.
I felt the spell wear off when I begin hearing the conversation around me. It was a conversation about feedings, pooping, labor incisions, formula testing, sleep, as in no sleep, as in no sleep ever again . . .
"Here you go Auntie," I suddenly said, indicating that the baby should be picked up, so I could punch Baby-Crazy Claudia in the mouth, metaphorically speaking. My bff picked up the little lady from my arms and held her with such soothing second nature. The lump in my throat was coming back.
FUCK!!!
You see, my best friend is so many things. So many. I am in awe of her constantly for what she is. But one of the most incredibly components she possesses is motherhood. I've known Jay since we were five. FIVE YEARS OLD! She is, in some ways, my soul mate. If I never make a million dollars in my life, I will still say I won the lotto. Simply because of having her in my life.
So to watch her be so comfortable with this newborn, adding to already having watched her feed her ten month old son while being captivated by his big brown eyes ,bringing about her ginormous smile that shows off her dimples, and also observing her unique bond with her 5 year old daughter, as they both negotiate childhood transactions, usually ending up with some sort of amusing outcome . . . it was all too much. Too beautiful. Too unbelievable.
It was time to go. Or I was about to have a crying competition with an infant.
For the rest of my time in Virginia, I thought a lot about the concept of having a baby. Jay was MORE than excited about this idea. Both she and her husband think I would be a great mom (I did remind them that I had yet to unpack my apartment and it had been 10 months, and, rumor has it, my eggplant in the fridge had simply just become a plant with a family of something inhabiting it). They seemed not to care of these facts. Jay even went so far as to pick the Sunday night movie that just screamed coincidence: SWITCHED with Jennifer Aniston. A single career woman wanting to get knocked up. As she played it, I looked over at her, not amused mind you, and she looked at me with those big brown eyes her son inherited and let out a giggle her beautiful little girl inherited and said, "What?"
That's my Jay.
So here I am, back in New York, three days later, thinking about the emotional whirlwind of the weekend. Perhaps I should think about why I am blogging about this, on a weight loss blog. Well, see, I always thought if I ever was to get married and knocked up, I would be at a healthy goal weight with flat abs! Only because I would probably never see those flat abs again. I also fear getting enormous during my pregnancy, because I would give up my vegetarian lifestyle for the fetus and go ape shit on whoppers, breaded thin chicken cutlets, chicharron, my mother's cocacola marinated pernil, and Colombian empanadas. Because all that is WAYY healthier than being a vegetarian. Clearly.
Like I said, guys, I have NOOOOOOOO plans on getting pregnant right now. Possibly ever, perhaps. My brother-in-law said to me this weekend, "There's never the right time." And he has a point. Some of the people in my life that I love dearly were conceived during "pull-out" method intercourse. And I couldn't be more grateful. Accidental and unplanned babies are great. However, I'd like to at least prepare a little more if I am going to bring a kid into my life.
For starters, I should probably unpack. And get on to those flat abs. See Patagonia. Participate in a bar-hopping Santa-Con event, dress up as a hoochie for Halloween (I came close one year, but it was really cold that evening), date a biker, etc. Perhaps I should revisit that infamous birth video on youtube and decide if I really want to have that happen to, um, her. Me. Whatever.
Let me make one thing clear. This isn't about getting married or falling in love or anything like that. That concept is so independant from this, which is rather scary. I was raised by a single mom and, while she is the best mother anybody could ask for and has raised me to be the strong, brave, sappy, sincere, successful, yadda yadda yadda, person that I am, I know I probably could have experienced some very wonderful experiences that can only happen in a 2 parent household.
That said, my parental plans/fantasies have no place for a pops. No Danny Tanner, no Nick Russo, no Tony Soprano (what? he was a good dad!), no George Lopez. Nothing.
Just me, my kid, and my New York.
Heavy stuff, huh?
To conclude, I just want to reinterate that I will not be proclaiming an "I'm knocked up" message any time soon. Not unless the good Lord decides to pull a Mary on me. And even then, I might have to negotiate with God and show him my unpacked apartment and deformed eggplant in the fridge. For now, I will contine to enjoy this wonderful life I have. I don't need to list everything that is so wonderful, but one thing I will mention is that I have amazing loved ones who will always be there to encourage me to follow my heart, or, when my heart is being an idiot, will set me straight.
Case in point, I got the following tweet from one of great friends the day after I posted "Babies on the brain.":
DON'T START!!!
That, my friends, is all I needed to hear.
Now on to those abs . . . .
I'll save that gem for another time. There's something a little more . . . intense that is on my brain. Allow me to begin:
So this happened this weekend:
which then caused this thought to happen:
followed by a panic which brought about this solution:
Now. before I get massive texts, emails, calls, calls to my mother, calls to my pastor, etc., let me explain.
Firstly, that cutie patootie that I am holding in the photo is by best friend's niece. She is absolutely stunning. I never realized how precious newborns are.
Secondly, everybody who knows me is well aware that I swore off having children years ago after I saw a youtube video on giving birth. Also, because the idea of having some one's life in my hands and the opportunities to screw them up was something I wasn't too crazy about pursuing. And finally, because I love to sleep late.
That said, within the last year, I've noticed some, um, not so pleasant reactions to baby crap. For example, not to long ago I went into Target at 10:30pm, with 30 minutes to spare because I ran out of detergent. I was one day away from using my Bath and Body works handsoap to do laundry if I didn't get detergent right then and there. Could I have gone to the local drug store? Sure. But Target is way cheaper and who doesn't love a late night visit to Target?
Anywho, I was skipping around the store applauding the fact that the crisis at hand had been averted when somehow, I ended up near the baby section. Normally, I run the other way, or make a dash for the purse section right across the baby stuff, and I was about to, when all of a sudden, my eye caught the following:
Usually I would just glance and mosey along. However, that evening, holding a bulk bottle of Tide (with bleach alternative), I found myself . . . getting warm. On my face. Near my eyes. Then, without any notice, I started to well up. Cry! Like a bitch! I mean, I wasn't sobbing or anything, but there was definitely sniffles, and, possibly, a whimper.
WTF?!?!?!? I had never EVER had a reaction to a piece of clothing (well, maybe when bell bottoms made an appearance in the early nineties). I certainly have never had any kind of reaction like that when it comes to baby stuff. I knew I needed a quick fix to get over this bizarre moment. I did what any adult would do in a time of crisis. I bought myself a snickers bar.
And that helped 100%! I paid for my Tide (with bleach alternative) and headed home. I chalked up that crazy reaction to my die-hard dedication to the Mets, and how awful they are, and pms, and never gave it another thought. I have, on occassion, used this story to entertain my friends during happy hours, dinners, and phone calls. Everybody got a laugh out of it! So I decided to laugh it off, too!
Until this weekend. I went up to VA to see my best friend and her family. Her niece had just been born so we went to visit her. I had no plans to hold the little one, since some parents are super sensitive to that, and also, I can barely hold a can of Goya beans without dropping it, so for the safety of everybody, I was just gonna "goo-goo, gah-gah" the kid from afar.
The only problem was, I didn't expect to fall instantly in love with the baby. She is gorgeous. And teeny. And innocent cheeks like a cherub. So peaceful and vulnerable, and a part of a wonderful family, with two parents who were elated to have her here. It was all so unexpected for me to take in.
"Wanna hold her?", her pops asked. I usually respectfully decline, but I found myself getting elated butterflies in my belly and saying, slightly apprehensively, "Sure."
As I got into position (my bff and her sister coaching me through hand placement, arm stability, and overall relaxation), I started to mildly panic. But there was no time to address it, because my bff placed the baby in my arms. And she melted in, like butter through the crevices of a baked potato. It was perfect.
"Hi, pudding!" was all I could say. Because, within seconds, that same warm feeling from that fateful Tuesday evening at Target started to invade my eyes. That lump in my throat started to grow and I felt my voice sink into my belly. Oh no! I thought. I couldn't do this here. I was surrounded by everybody in the room, and I knew I would be caught! Don't be that girl. Don't be that girl!!! I continued to think. You know what girl I am talking about:
The girl that I fear more than anything!! I usually can't bond very well with said girl. I've met many of them along my journey, and they are usually very lovely. But babies drown the very essence of their brain. In all capacities. With visions of baby showers, choosing names, and whether or not circumcision will happen already planned out!! I can barely plan out my outfit for the day!
And suddenly, I felt Baby-Crazy Claudia evolving. And I let her be for about 7 minutes. I held back the tears and just smiled my ass off as I stared at this kid, who, not even a week old, had capativated a career woman from New York City.
I felt the spell wear off when I begin hearing the conversation around me. It was a conversation about feedings, pooping, labor incisions, formula testing, sleep, as in no sleep, as in no sleep ever again . . .
"Here you go Auntie," I suddenly said, indicating that the baby should be picked up, so I could punch Baby-Crazy Claudia in the mouth, metaphorically speaking. My bff picked up the little lady from my arms and held her with such soothing second nature. The lump in my throat was coming back.
FUCK!!!
You see, my best friend is so many things. So many. I am in awe of her constantly for what she is. But one of the most incredibly components she possesses is motherhood. I've known Jay since we were five. FIVE YEARS OLD! She is, in some ways, my soul mate. If I never make a million dollars in my life, I will still say I won the lotto. Simply because of having her in my life.
So to watch her be so comfortable with this newborn, adding to already having watched her feed her ten month old son while being captivated by his big brown eyes ,bringing about her ginormous smile that shows off her dimples, and also observing her unique bond with her 5 year old daughter, as they both negotiate childhood transactions, usually ending up with some sort of amusing outcome . . . it was all too much. Too beautiful. Too unbelievable.
It was time to go. Or I was about to have a crying competition with an infant.
For the rest of my time in Virginia, I thought a lot about the concept of having a baby. Jay was MORE than excited about this idea. Both she and her husband think I would be a great mom (I did remind them that I had yet to unpack my apartment and it had been 10 months, and, rumor has it, my eggplant in the fridge had simply just become a plant with a family of something inhabiting it). They seemed not to care of these facts. Jay even went so far as to pick the Sunday night movie that just screamed coincidence: SWITCHED with Jennifer Aniston. A single career woman wanting to get knocked up. As she played it, I looked over at her, not amused mind you, and she looked at me with those big brown eyes her son inherited and let out a giggle her beautiful little girl inherited and said, "What?"
That's my Jay.
So here I am, back in New York, three days later, thinking about the emotional whirlwind of the weekend. Perhaps I should think about why I am blogging about this, on a weight loss blog. Well, see, I always thought if I ever was to get married and knocked up, I would be at a healthy goal weight with flat abs! Only because I would probably never see those flat abs again. I also fear getting enormous during my pregnancy, because I would give up my vegetarian lifestyle for the fetus and go ape shit on whoppers, breaded thin chicken cutlets, chicharron, my mother's cocacola marinated pernil, and Colombian empanadas. Because all that is WAYY healthier than being a vegetarian. Clearly.
Like I said, guys, I have NOOOOOOOO plans on getting pregnant right now. Possibly ever, perhaps. My brother-in-law said to me this weekend, "There's never the right time." And he has a point. Some of the people in my life that I love dearly were conceived during "pull-out" method intercourse. And I couldn't be more grateful. Accidental and unplanned babies are great. However, I'd like to at least prepare a little more if I am going to bring a kid into my life.
For starters, I should probably unpack. And get on to those flat abs. See Patagonia. Participate in a bar-hopping Santa-Con event, dress up as a hoochie for Halloween (I came close one year, but it was really cold that evening), date a biker, etc. Perhaps I should revisit that infamous birth video on youtube and decide if I really want to have that happen to, um, her. Me. Whatever.
Let me make one thing clear. This isn't about getting married or falling in love or anything like that. That concept is so independant from this, which is rather scary. I was raised by a single mom and, while she is the best mother anybody could ask for and has raised me to be the strong, brave, sappy, sincere, successful, yadda yadda yadda, person that I am, I know I probably could have experienced some very wonderful experiences that can only happen in a 2 parent household.
That said, my parental plans/fantasies have no place for a pops. No Danny Tanner, no Nick Russo, no Tony Soprano (what? he was a good dad!), no George Lopez. Nothing.
Just me, my kid, and my New York.
Heavy stuff, huh?
To conclude, I just want to reinterate that I will not be proclaiming an "I'm knocked up" message any time soon. Not unless the good Lord decides to pull a Mary on me. And even then, I might have to negotiate with God and show him my unpacked apartment and deformed eggplant in the fridge. For now, I will contine to enjoy this wonderful life I have. I don't need to list everything that is so wonderful, but one thing I will mention is that I have amazing loved ones who will always be there to encourage me to follow my heart, or, when my heart is being an idiot, will set me straight.
Case in point, I got the following tweet from one of great friends the day after I posted "Babies on the brain.":
DON'T START!!!
That, my friends, is all I needed to hear.
Now on to those abs . . . .
Sunday, August 18, 2013
A rant
I have no clever stories, no fun pics, no humor to hide behind. I just need to spew out what's in my mind. At 2:25am on a Sunday, when I am suppose to wake up in 2 hours.
So . . . here goes:
I made big decisions last week. Decisions that I haven't told many people about. So why not blog about it for the masses to see, right? smh
I quit WeightWatchers. Officially. I haven't worked in a meeting for almost a year, due to scheduling, due to feeling like a phony, not being at goal, due to my day time gig taking over my life in some way. I made it official with my WW manager, and it was a tremedous relief, because with her approval and empathy, I became a member again. A member who lost life-time and is trying to get back to goal.
So now I am ready to be a member again! Yay!
Well, sort of yay, I think.
This is a new place to be. Before, when I joined WW in 2008, I had never been fit, at goal, healthy. So when I lost the weight initially, it was a dream that became tastier and more real with each week, at every meeting that I would weigh in. This time around, even if I lose a few pounds, it isn't so juicy, because all I can think is, "You suck! This is nothing to celebrate! You've gained back half the weight you lost, so you have WAYSSS to go."
I'm trying to ignore that asshole voice in my head and rekindle that drive. I swear, it's like rekindling a relationship that feels stifled. I envision this drive as a poor horse that should be put out in the pasture.
Now, now, don't panic. It's the scenario, the plateau that I wish would be put out of it's misery. Not myself. I happen to think I'm pretty great, just experiencing one of the biggest challenges in my 32 years of life: being healthy and human. Healthy so that my knees don't hurt when I walk a few blocks because I'm heavier, and human so that I don't beat myself up and accept that I am not perfect.
Also, I am cleaning house in general. Cleaning my life of clutter, people, and possible career plans. Trying to create space for what counts. As funny (and annoying) it is, I truly feel like I have no time for "that", that being the long list of bullshit currently clouding my life/perspective.
Look, I am not the easier person to deal with. I'm no fool to that. I may not be available all the time, and I may have to blow you off for work because all I have is me to rely on, and perhaps when I am in a dire situation, I handle it before I reach out to anybody, because my momma raised me to handle my shit, to not depend on anybody, and to be mindful of putting your own problems on other people, because everybody has their own stuff to handle. But damn it, my heart is enormous (metaphorically speaking. I'm not that unhealthy/overweight to have an enlarged organ) and if I let you in, you best be aware of how huge that is for me, and how lucky you are. Does that make me sound vain? Maybe. But if you know me, you know that I am the least vain person in your circle, hands down. This isn't about vanity, this is about reality. When I love, I love hard.
Where am I going with all this? I don't even know. I am really just ranting. And preparing. And accepting that none of this is going to be easy. None of it. And if it means ridding myself of some complacent situations because of certain fears/insecurties/pendejadas (foolishness), then so be it.
For now, I think my brain/soul can enjoy this respite thanks to this blog, where I can come and let out all the heaviness that kicks in some times.
And with that, it's bed time.
So . . . here goes:
I made big decisions last week. Decisions that I haven't told many people about. So why not blog about it for the masses to see, right? smh
I quit WeightWatchers. Officially. I haven't worked in a meeting for almost a year, due to scheduling, due to feeling like a phony, not being at goal, due to my day time gig taking over my life in some way. I made it official with my WW manager, and it was a tremedous relief, because with her approval and empathy, I became a member again. A member who lost life-time and is trying to get back to goal.
So now I am ready to be a member again! Yay!
Well, sort of yay, I think.
This is a new place to be. Before, when I joined WW in 2008, I had never been fit, at goal, healthy. So when I lost the weight initially, it was a dream that became tastier and more real with each week, at every meeting that I would weigh in. This time around, even if I lose a few pounds, it isn't so juicy, because all I can think is, "You suck! This is nothing to celebrate! You've gained back half the weight you lost, so you have WAYSSS to go."
I'm trying to ignore that asshole voice in my head and rekindle that drive. I swear, it's like rekindling a relationship that feels stifled. I envision this drive as a poor horse that should be put out in the pasture.
Now, now, don't panic. It's the scenario, the plateau that I wish would be put out of it's misery. Not myself. I happen to think I'm pretty great, just experiencing one of the biggest challenges in my 32 years of life: being healthy and human. Healthy so that my knees don't hurt when I walk a few blocks because I'm heavier, and human so that I don't beat myself up and accept that I am not perfect.
Also, I am cleaning house in general. Cleaning my life of clutter, people, and possible career plans. Trying to create space for what counts. As funny (and annoying) it is, I truly feel like I have no time for "that", that being the long list of bullshit currently clouding my life/perspective.
Look, I am not the easier person to deal with. I'm no fool to that. I may not be available all the time, and I may have to blow you off for work because all I have is me to rely on, and perhaps when I am in a dire situation, I handle it before I reach out to anybody, because my momma raised me to handle my shit, to not depend on anybody, and to be mindful of putting your own problems on other people, because everybody has their own stuff to handle. But damn it, my heart is enormous (metaphorically speaking. I'm not that unhealthy/overweight to have an enlarged organ) and if I let you in, you best be aware of how huge that is for me, and how lucky you are. Does that make me sound vain? Maybe. But if you know me, you know that I am the least vain person in your circle, hands down. This isn't about vanity, this is about reality. When I love, I love hard.
Where am I going with all this? I don't even know. I am really just ranting. And preparing. And accepting that none of this is going to be easy. None of it. And if it means ridding myself of some complacent situations because of certain fears/insecurties/pendejadas (foolishness), then so be it.
For now, I think my brain/soul can enjoy this respite thanks to this blog, where I can come and let out all the heaviness that kicks in some times.
And with that, it's bed time.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Gotta start somewhere. I did, on 43rd ave and 41st street!
Today began day 1 of my 5k training. For more info, see video below.
Trying something new, you guys, following the advice/guidance of my fellow blogger friends:
Vlogging. A video blog. Another tool to fufill the vanity we all have.
So here it is:
Day 1: Flinging is not an option
What do you guys think? I'm not sure if I enjoy this method of blogging, as I do not like a medium where I can not go back and edit. Additionally, it took like 20 minutes to u
Ok, TOTALLY digressing.
Any who, some more thoughts. As
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Also, let me correct my friend's twitter handle who told me to ice down my old lady back. It's actually Kellyfit1220, not Kellyfitgirl.
More on running on Tuesday, scheduled Day 2. Off to do some laundry and
Trying something new, you guys, following the advice/guidance of my fellow blogger friends:
Vlogging. A video blog. Another tool to fufill the vanity we all have.
So here it is:
Day 1: Flinging is not an option
What do you guys think? I'm not sure if I enjoy this method of blogging, as I do not like a medium where I can not go back and edit. Additionally, it took like 20 minutes to u
Ok, TOTALLY digressing.
Any who, some more thoughts. As
Also, let me correct my friend's twitter handle who told me to ice down my old lady back. It's actually Kellyfit1220, not Kellyfitgirl.
More on running on Tuesday, scheduled Day 2. Off to do some laundry and
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