Ode to my secret admirer

Wow.
You did it.
If you were trying to totally make my day, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

Today, whilst sitting at work, minding my own business, a box was delivered. No card inside. No return address, except for the address & phone number of the shipping company that processes the orders for Warner Records (um, I know that because I called the number).

Whether from an admirer or a stalker, this person knows me well.

What was it? This.


Whether for my birthday (WHAT? MY BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP? WHAT? YOU THINK I SHOULD DO A COUNTDOWN FOR MY BIRTHDAY? We'll see...) or for Valentine's Day, it was a perfect way to end January and get ready to start February (WHAT? FEBRUARY IS THE MONTH OF MY BIRTHDAY? REALLY?)

It's funny, really. When you get something from someone and you don't know who the someone is, your mind does crazy things. Fun happy things. I just grinned all the way home with this thought:
Someone out there really knows me.
Someone out there really loves me.

So, thank you "someone".
You know who you are.

And I love you right back!

My fear that just might conquer my Goliath

What? Doesn't it take COURAGE to conquer Goliath?
Apparently not.

I like food.
I do.
I like it a lot.
My cute petite friend Hilary says she likes food. But she clearly doesn't like it as much as me (thus the petite part of "my cute petite friend Hilary"). I respect her thinking she does. But she doesn't. Tam & Erin (both of them) almost like food as much as me, but still not close...Tyler? Yeah, he's a little closer to my level...(hee.hee.), but I still like food more than any of 'em.

It's one of the battles of my life actually (am I actually blogging about this?)

It started with my mom (oh, no...here I go again...first the hair...now THIS!)

I was my mom's eating buddy. It started early on in our relationship. It was innocent enough at first...Gerbers...simple finger foods...then it progressed to bigger things.
Sugar Babies at the 7-11 and then a drive to the park. We'd sit on the bench and eat them. (Now you need to know that my family accuses me of making things up all the time, but on this? Well, on this, I have proof.)
Then it was Caspers. I know you're tempted to sing the "Casper the friendly ghost" song but this was a hotdog place in Dublin, CA. I remember it well. I think I would go with my mom to school meetings (PTA, perhaps?) and then we'd go to Caspers. We'd sit on stools along a shiny metallic semicircular bar area. I loved those dogs.

Now, I won't go in to the not-so-proud rest of the love affair with food (and I certainly can't blame the rest on my mother, much to her relief, I'm sure), but let's just say it's been my one true vice (well, that and Seinfeld...and shoe shopping...and...). It's my Goliath. Truly.

But, now I have enough fear to conquer it.

I've been doing this detox and today is the last day. I'm pretty amazed that I did it, frankly. A 3 day liquid fast followed by a 21 day very restriced eating regimen...and a powder supplement that I actually started to enjoy in my rice milk w/ berries shakes. (BTW, I highly recommend the detox. I'm a HUGE fan...seriously...).

Well, I had a little bit of cheese yesterday for the first time. I love cheese. I do. I love it so much that I could be quite content as a mouse. Seriously. I really like cheese. But, now? I'm a little suspicious of the perfectly aged dairy product. Cheese didn't so much like me last night.

And now I'm afraid of it.

So, today, I let myself have one little piece of chocolate. It was little. I love chocolate. I really love it. It actually brings me joy. But, I ate it and the only way to describe it is as a stinging sensation in my mouth. I didn't enjoy it and the chocolate didn't so much enjoy me.

And now I'm afraid of it.

I went to the grocery store tonight and knew I could technically get whatever I wanted. And I kind of bought what I've been buying (fish, fruits, veggies, rice milk, etc.). There were things in the grocery store that used to be my friend that I'm now actually afraid of. WOW! I felt a really great fantastically wonderful healthy fear.

Fear.
Who knew it might be JUST the thing I needed to conquer this Goliath.

Courage is so overrated.
(and now so is cheese!)

Sweet President Hinckley

The leader of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, President Gordon B. Hinckley, passed away tonight.

Though his title was "President", we believed him to be a literal prophet of God. He has been the Lord's mouthpiece for the world. And he will be missed.

He was 97. His sweet wife, Marjorie (who happened to be a childhood and lifelong friend of my Grandma Christensen), died in April of 2004. He has missed her so very much. I can't help but think of that joyful reunion tonight.

I've been blessed to work closely with several members of his family and spoke with a few of them tonight. He passed away peacefully...which is all any of us could ask.

He encouraged us to "try a little harder to be a little better"...all the time.
He made me believe I COULD be a little better...that I needed to be...that I wanted to be.

I want to be as good as he made me think I could be.
I want to love the Lord more like he did.
I want to live my life as a servant like he was.
I want to be able to help people find the humor in life the way he did.
I want to know God like he knew him.

I'm not going to try a little harder to be a little better.
I'm just going to be better.

Thank you, President Hinckley, for your life and your service. For staying here longer than you probably wanted to. The Lord knew we still needed you. But, now you can be with your sweet wife again.

We love you, sweet President.
We love you.

To my latest atheist acquaintance...

I'll be honest. I was WAY too tired last night to really say what I should have said to you. Too many flights in too few days. And too much work.

Plus I REALLY wanted to finish the first book I've read for pure enjoyment in far too many months (which, by the way only confirmed my crush on Clarence Thomas. I highly, and I mean HIGHLY, recommend it!)

I was annoyed by your "isn't that the guy that had the affair?" question. To which I said, kindly, "no, he was lynched by some fanatics who tried to ruin him by trumping up a sexual harrassment charge by a woman he earlier helped in her career."
You: "But, he never got the office he was trying to get."
Me: "Um, well, he wasn't trying to 'get' an office. He was NOMINATED, not elected, to the Supreme Court. And he was confirmed. He's on the bench now."
You: "Yeah, but didn't he pay a fine or something?"
Me: "No, unless you call the tarnishing of his good name a fine."

So, clearly I wasn't in the mood for you.
But, to be a good seatmate, I asked you what YOU were reading.

The God Delusion. Nice.

When you told me that it makes a lot of sense...that of course this all couldn't be started by a superior being because...blah, blah, blah....that believing there was a higher power was so illogical...well, I just wasn't in the mood.

But, I knew I needed to say SOMETHING.

So, I said, "Knowing there IS a God is far more logical to me than thinking there isn't." You replied, "Don't you just think that's just an easier way to believe? You believe it because it's the easy way out."

I just didn't want to get into it with you.
And I'm sorry.
You are heading down a road of a very meaningless sad life.
And I should have tried to help you more.

And this morning, I'm feeling really horrible that I let you annoy me.

What I should have said is, "Let me tell you all the evidence I have that there IS a God in Heaven."
When I say my prayers in the morning, my day goes better.
When I pay my tithing, the windows of heaven open.
When I sin, He lights the path back.
When I look at my family, I know He gave them to me (hair and all!).
When I told Him that morning last October that He couldn't take my Dad without giving me a husband, He spared my sweet father (next time I'll do a better job with the negotiation and try to get both!).
When I'm alone, He comforts me.
When I ask what the purpose of my life is, He gives me a glimpse of the answer.
When I need to feel loved, He has a friend call.
When I have to learn something, He lets me struggle.
When I am done learning (even if He knows I'm not), He helps me finish up the assignment.

So, you see, my latest athiest acquaintance, I have all the evidence I need...and then some...that there IS a superior being. He happens to be God. He's also the Father of us all, which frankly, makes Him my Dad. He's yours too. I'm sorry you don't have any concept of that. It actually makes me very sad this morning.

I should have tried to engage you in a conversation.
I just didn't think you'd hear it.
I should have tried to help you see the same evidence.
But, I really wanted to finish my book.
I'm so sorry about that.
I prayed for you this morning...that your next seatmate would have the chance to finish what I did not really let start.

Because you were right about one thing.
It is an easier way to believe. It is the easy way out...of a meaningless life.
And I pray you can find the easier way.

I've become a little vain...

...about my hair.

I really really love my hair (the picture at the "about me" is a year old so you can’t fully appreciate how great my hair is right now.). It's a loverly chocolate brown and pretty much the best length ever (longer than I've ever had it). It's layered perfectly. I've rediscovered a curling iron and have actually mastered it. It's just pretty much the best hair ever in the history of Laurel.

(And the best part? I can do 2nd day hair now. And the best part of 2nd day hair? It’s actually better than 1st day hair! Who knew?)

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I have to say, "wow, you have great hair!"

And if that's not enough, my new assistant said to me the other day, "wow, you have great hair!" Granted, he might want a raise, but still...

And then, the girl behind the counter at the airport today said, "wow, you have great hair!" And she had nothing to gain by that comment!

So, clearly, I have great hair.

Now, in fairness to me, it's a little okay I finally think I have great hair. You see, I've spent most of my life with really not so great hair.

Courtesy of my cute mom.

Yes, my current vanity is really kind of her fault.

Now, in fairness to my mom, she was not trained professionally and really had no business doing anyone's hair. Bless her heart, she was probably just trying to be a really good steward of the family checkbook. But, someone should have put a stop to the practice of using a bowl on my head as the template for the boy cut. (The same technique was used on my two older sisters...and little brother as well.)

I don't have easy access to a lot of pictoral proof. But...


This is me in 3rd grade....kind of when the bad hair was just beginning...man, I loved those overalls! (notice my sisters had already started to attempt a take-over of their hair, going for the pre "Farah Fawcett" look...my little brother would be just fine. He WAS a boy and the boy cut would always look good on him. How cute is this family?!?)

My 4th grade picture? I look oddly like my mom...not when she was in 4th grade, mind you...I look like her at the time (about the same as this family picture).

After cutting my hair short, she thought it would be a good idea to put it in big hot rollers. With my calloc (how do you spell that?) in the middle, it created this horrid wavy effect. Not that my mom OR Mrs. Burgess had horrid hair...but they had adult woman hair...I was supposed to have 9-yr. old hair. You really cannot tell the difference between me and Mrs. Burgess, the teacher, in my 4th grade class picture.

My best friends in 6th grade were Dippity-Do and a pick.

And I didn't know that you shouldn't let the dippity-do dry on it's own. So, I had hard hair. You put that with my braces, beginnings of acne and legwarmers that couldn't match a thing...and it was a recipe for disaster! (And though my mom didn’t give me the perm, she took me to the place that administered the bad combination for my boy short hair...so she was definitely an accomplice)

And then there was the mullet in 7th grade. True story.

It was during the prep look and was actually called a “jay cut” and in fairness to my mother, I actually requested it. But, the 90 degree angle above my ear just kept getting higher and higher as she tried to match the two sides. And we lived in Kentucky for crying out loud! In Kentucky, once you reach a certain height on the angle, you have no choice but to call it a mullet.

My female science teacher (and the softball coach)...well, she had the same cut. You people get where I’m going with this? It was several days before I could bring myself to go to school.

After the mullet, my mom no longer cut my hair. But, it took years (and I mean YEARS) before I figured out what looked good on me.

So, considering all of this, it’s okay I’m a little vain now, right?

I mean, it’s 2008 and I have finally figured it out. You might say I've nailed it. I have great hair. I do.

I can't wait to show my mom. (Love you, Mom!)

"Don't be alarmed by the emergency vehicles waiting for us when we land..."

So said the pilot tonight as we began our descent in to the Columbia airport (the one in South Carolina...not the one in the valley of the drug cartel...).

Just what you want to hear after a day of delays and missed flights.

I was tired and to be honest, when he started talking about engine warning lights and turning one of them to "idle", I got a little nervous.

And then when the flight attendant came to the emergency row in front of me and said, "now don't open the doors unless we tell you to--or if you see fire and you feel your life is threatened" (I'm not making this up, folks!)...well, I was kind of ready to freak out a little bit.

Fortunately the guy sitting next to me (who was willing to talk politics the ENTIRE flight...could I BE any luckier?)is a flight captain for Black Hawk helicopters and so he convinced me (sort of) that it really wasn't that big of a deal. But, still, a little unsettling.

But, it was nice to know that there would be emergency vehicles just waiting for us.
And frankly, it was kind of nice to have a warning about a possible problem.
And it was really nice to have the expert opinion.

I wish I had more of that in my life, actually. Knowing there was always someone just waiting for me, in case of emergency...giving me a warning about possible problems ahead...and having an expert to tell me that it really isn't that big of a deal.

What?
What's that you say?
I DO have that?

Oh, yeah...I guess I do.

I wonder how interested He is in politics right now?
It's the end of the day and time to check in. I think I'll ask Him.

And thank Him for being the emergency vehicle waiting for me every time I land.

Today is the most depressing day of the year...

Did you know that?
Neither did I.

But according to the news this morning, some researchers have figured out that, on average, more people are depressed on the last Monday of the full week of January (that's today) than any other day.

Something about the debt of Christmas and the breaking of New Year's resolutions.

But, I think they are wrong.
At least they are wrong about this day for me.

I woke up feeling really happy...really strong...really ready...really detoxed.
And knowing that I was defying the researches just made me grin one of those grins of pure satisfaction.

"You're wrong, researchers! Wrong I say!"

I'm officially declaring this the most UNdepressing day of the year.

Right place...right time...

I had one of those rare experiences yesterday that are actually becoming a little more common (is that sentence even possible?).

All throughout scripture, those who are sign seekers are condemned...referred to as an "evil and adulturous generation" (Matt. 12:39), if you will. WOW. That's what I call condemned!

But, I've looked. I've looked hard. And I don't see that same indictment for sign SEE-ers.

Sign See-er.
I don't seek signs (well, okay, sometimes I do but I'm trying hard not to) but I can see them (well, okay, sometimes I can't but I am trying hard to).

You see, God and I have this little thing between us. I don't really talk about it but HE knows. And I know.

And it's specific enough for me that I know it's His way of communicating to me and He knows He can use it as His way of communicating to me. Because it's one thing that I won't question. I don't sit around and think, "hmmm...was that me? or was that the spirit?". And it's not some kind of answer of fire from the sky. In fact, it's not an answer at all. It's just His way of saying and thus my way of knowing, "you're in the right place at the right time."

And sometimes when He needs to tell me He has heard me, He uses it. He did that today.
"You're in the right place at the right time."
I heard that loud and clear.

I love knowing that.
I love seeing that.

I love that in the middle of running the universe and working to help a gazillion other children, He can take the time to help me see that. Because sometimes I need a little help being a sign see-er.

But hey, if sign see-ers are condemned anywhere in holy writ...please let me know. Finding that out would be fairly important to my "I will try not to be condemned" life commitment.

The best kind of "sigh"

Have you ever worked really really hard at something that was totally out of your comfort zone?

Have you ever had the drive to move towards a dream that you actually secretly thought you couldn't do but you knew you needed to pretend that you could?

Have you ever awakened (literally...in the morning...after a good night & a good sleep) realizing you are further along the path (the good one) than you ever have been before?

Have you ever pushed yourself to the point that you finally have evidence of that which was not so before?

I love knowing that I can do hard things.
I love knowing that when I pray for help, He delivers.
I love knowing that it is absolutely possible to do that which seems impossible.

I can't help but grin a bit at myself this morning. I actually said to myself in the mirror, "you're amazing". Does that make me weird (or is it "wierd"? I misspelled (or is it "mispelled") that word in a 5th grade spelling bee and I'm afraid I've never had the confidence to spell it right since)?

I released a really deep sigh...but the really good kind.
Not the sigh of desperation or longing, but the sigh of satisfaction and calm. (A borderline "whew", if you will.)
LYFSGUD!

A lesson from Phase 3

I've made it into Phase 3 of the detox.
Day 3 of Phase 3, actually.

And here's what's interesting about this "middle" phase. You're kind of (and by "kind of", I mean "very much so") to the point where you could a little bit go crazy (and by "little bit", I mean "absolutely") with the unsalted sunflower seeds (that are oddly similar to the stuff I remember my sister feeding her parakeet when we were younger). You have a new appreciation (and by "appreciation", I mean "what ARE these people thinking?!?!) for people who choose (and by "choose", I mean "brainwash themselves") to be vegan (do you people realize "vegan" means NO animal product?). BUT, you know you are FINALLY closer to the end than you are the beginning...and so you might as well keep going.

It's like I'm just nearing the end of a race.
I can see the finish line.
I've still got a ways to go, but I can see it.

I do much better when I can see the end.

Unfortunately, life isn't like that. And sometimes I don't see the end because I assume I'm so far away from the finish line.

I discovered this week that I am the queen of assuming something is going to last longer than it really is...but not the good things. I assume the good things will not last very long. But, the difficult things? Yeah, in my mind, difficult things will last for days...weeks...months.

Why is that?

I assume hard things, because they are likely "for my good", are going to last a long time until I learn the hard lesson I'm meant to learn. And since, I'm a bit of a slow learner, it must be going to last a long time.

Is that pessimistic?

I suppose I'm what you would call a realist (except for in matters of the heart, I'm a bit of an idealist there...blast that Jane Austen!). And I would never consider myself a pessimist. I really wouldn't.

But, the reality is that I've spent a good portion of my life with the "I'd rather be pleasantly surprised than mildly disappointed" attitude, which I've just today decided is no way to live.

I'm done.

I'm done thinking that the world isn't like the world of Jane Austen.
I'm done thinking that the difficult thing is going to last longer than the "I can't believe this amazing thing is happening to me" thing.

I want to be the girl who assumes the hard thing is going to be over tomorrow and the great thing is going to keep going and going and going and...

I want to be that girl.
I want to live that life.
It's a lesson from Phase 3.

And, oddly enough, I kind of wish this Phase 3 could last a little longer.

I heart him.

He just really gets me. I don't know how to explain that. It's kind of like what Michael McLean was for me all during college. I'd hear a new McLean song and I'd think, "How does he know me so well?" (Come on, people, admit it! You've thought that too!)

I was told that one of the things that happens during this cleanse is also a cleanse of emotions. I know that sounds very "new age" but it does kind of make sense, doesn't it? Detox the body...detox the soul.

So, this morning, even whilst busily getting some work done while catching up on The Office, Season 3, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised but I started crying. "What is this salty discharge?" (Yes, I realize that's from another classic sitcom).

But, do you want to know the remedy for my tears?

Daughtry.
Chris Daughtry.

Give me a treadmill and his cd cranked up.
And I am good to go.
I think if we met, he'd be shocked to find out I'm a fan.
I'm kind of a conservative music nerd.
But, he would totally think I was cool.

Pick a song. Any song.
It's all good stuff.
Want to try and guess my favorite? You won't be able to. You really won't.
(But the winner gets a dollar. And you KNOW I'm good for it!)

I heart Chris Daughtry.
I just really really do.

Life after the discard

Have you ever thought about the discard pile in a card game?

Why do you choose to discard a particular card? It's a card you don't need with your current hand, right? You've made the decision that other cards are more valuable and that this particular card is not as useful to you.

But, here's the deal. Just because it doesn't fit with your current hand, doesn't mean it won't someday be the card that helps you win the game.

And don't you hate it when you discard something at the beginning that you end up needing in the end? And then you wait, hoping it turns up again... but you see it and it's not your turn and you can't take it....and so you wait for the next time it shows up again...you'll gladly give up something else for the chance to pick it up...and you hold your breath hoping someone else doesn't pick up the card...

But the card? It doesn't know any of that. All it knows is that it's been discarded.

I think sometimes we are too quick to discard each other...to discard relationships...Maybe it becomes too hard or too much or too something. And we think that we don't need a particular person. But, just because we don't need them (or want them) in the moment, doesn't mean we won't need them ever.

Have you ever discarded someone? I have. Sadly, more than once.

A long time ago (in a land far away), I attempted to discard someone. Tried hard, actually. He went on with his life (and by "went on", I mean "got married") and I went on with mine (slightly different definition of "went on" in my case...grin). But, as it turns out, this dear friend was a CRITICAL card in my hand. I had no idea how much I would need that card later on. I was lucky on that one...I got another chance to add him back to my game.

Have you ever been discarded? I have. Once and that was enough.

It feels bad to be discarded. It does. Just like it feels bad to have your date be late and have the doors to the Conference Center close RIGHT as you and he walk up to go the the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert you've always wanted to go to and so you don't get in...but I digress.

And discarding, isn't getting your heart broken. Someone can break your heart without actually discarding you. There really is a difference. The discard is the "blow off", the "I'm going to pretend the Spring never even happened", the "I know I said a lot of great things but I've changed my mind but I have no explanation." It's a little worse than just the regular heartbreak.

But the beauty of the discarded card? You go on with your life. You do. In that moment it's really sad...you kind of can't breathe...and you want to shout, "are you kidding me? do you have any idea how valuable I am? how much you are going to need me later on when your hand changes? I could totally help you win!" But, after that, you discover that you're fine. You're more than fine. You'll be picked up again...might even be just the right card for a winning hand.

And as bad as it felt to be the discardee, I'd still choose that over the discarder.
I couldn't say that the last 7 months.
But, something changed today and I can say it now.

You see, the discarder has the risk of regret. I don't like regret. It sticks with you and leaves you wondering.

But, for the discardee, there is eventual peace. It takes a little patience but after some time, you start to see that it's not about you...that you just might be better off...that there are good things waiting for you in other hands, other deals, other games.

There really is a pretty great life waiting...after the discard pile.

I know...I'm proud of me too!

I did it.
I did the 3 days.
Didn't even eat the optional "raw vegetable, like cauliflower, that you rarely eat".
I know...I can't believe it myself either.

I never wanted to let this blog be able my "issues".

And so it won't be.

But, those who know me best, know what a HUGE thing it is for me to have been able to accomplish the "mind over matter" test. And I have to tell you that I have learned A LOT in a short amount of time about this brain that we use to collect and transmit and interpret information. I'm quite fascinated by it all, frankly.

I'm now in the "cleanse" part of the detox. It lasts 21 days.
I'm already feeling better than I've felt in a long time.
And I know that it's only been 4 days...and I promise not to become one of those obnoxious health fanatics (yes, just writing that as a possibility made me laugh too)that tries to convert everyone to their new way of life...but seriously, I'm starting to figure out a little something cool about part of this life journey.

Unfortunately, you'll have to wait a while.
I want to make sure I'm right.

But, how proud are we of me?

Ouch...

There is a pretty intense headache that comes with this 3-day fast.

WHAT?!?
THREE DAYS?!?
WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT 3 DAYS?!?

I just finished my first 24 hours. I went to bed with a headache. I woke up with one. That's really the only complaint, though. Otherwise, I feel oddly pretty good.

But, man...my head is throbbing!

I knew this wouldn't be easy...and to be honest, I was hoping to sleep for a lot of it.

I used to really be able to sleep.
HARD.
Ask my Dad.

In High School, it was his responsibily to wake me up for early morning seminary. I have NO idea how that became his job but it was quite the ordeal. Seriously. He would literally pull me up out of bed. Walk me to the bathroom. Start the water (I can't believe I'm admitting this) and then appropriately leave me in there and close the door. Most of the time (if by "most" I mean "almost all"), within 5 minutes, he would knock on the door. No answer. When he opened the door, I was asleep on the floor. Pathetic, I know.

(Did I mention I had a waterbed in high school? Hey! This was the 80's folks! I still remember the one morning my dad could NOT get me up. And so he did what any dad would do....he scared me out of bed. Poured a cup of water on me and said something about the waterbed rupturing. I thought I was drowning. It totally worked. But just the one time. He very likely tried it again...but I slept through it if he did.)

But, times have changed. Now my body wakes up at 5:30/5:45 a.m. whether I want to or not. If it's a morning I can sleep in, I MIGHT be able to go until 7:00...7:30 if I'm lucky. But, the days of really "sleeping in" and HARD...yeah, those days are over (happily, though, so are the days of bad haircuts, leg warmers, braces and acne).

I just thought this whole fast could be SO much easier if I could sleep for most of it. But, I woke up this morning...early...and wow. My mouth was drier than a lint sheet. I actually woke up thinking (clearly before I was totally awake), "Am I dying?" Of course I'm not. I've got that great concoction (can someone tell me yet if I'm spelling that right?) waiting for me. I'll be fine.

But, so much for sleeping...because I'm thirsty...and there is no more sleeping to be had. My body just won't cooperate.

Perhaps there are some important things for me to learn in the not sleeping? I see a future post coming.

Wait.
What was I talking about?
Oh, the headache.
Interesting. I almost forgot about that.

Detoxing my life

Sounds intriguing, doesn't it?
Well, I'm doing it.

2008 is the year of the detox.
I'm detoxing my spirit.
I'm detoxing my house.
I'm detoxing my relationships.
I'm detoxing my body.
I'm detoxing my finances.

The thought of it all gets me giddy like a schoolgirl.
Giddy like the 2 minutes right before a Michael Buble concert.
Giddy.

I started detoxing my spirit the week of Christmas. It was such a blessing and got this whole thing started.
Interesting how that works...You start with your spirit and everything else becomes a bit more clear.

That got me to detox my house. It is so clean and I love it. I took a trunk full of stuff to D.I. and organized the heck out of myself. I feel such a calm.
Interesting how that works...Cleanliness really must be next to Godliness.

I knew as NYE was approaching, I needed to leave some unhealthy relationships of '07 behind, or perhaps a better way to say it would be to leave behind MY PART in unhealthy relationships. And so far, so good (um, if we're still talking, consider yourself in a "healthy relationship". Congratulations!). Some might call that selfish but I feel free. Free to be me.
Interesting how that works...Healthy connections free us to be our best selves.

So, now for the detox of the body. Here we go, kids. I've started a cleanse this morning. A real live honest-to-goodness cleanse. I'm sitting here with my mixture of freshly squeezed lemon & lime juice, water and Grade B organic maple syrup. I'm supposed to sip this delightful (if delightful means "seriously? is it supposed to taste like this?") concoction every 15 minutes. Let's just say I'm staying close to home today. BUT, I actually felt a little (and by a little, I mean a lot) directed to take this final step to get myself to where I want to be...and so I'm praying for some help.
Interesting how that works...We're supposed to pray to overcome the "natural man" and as soon as you are willing to do it, you are compelled to let yourself be overcome by the Spirit. I love that.

Oh, and the finances? I'm working on that. It's just easier to think that Mr. Darcy has an amazing 401k plan and that he'll gladly take care of me in the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed. (grin). I know...I know....Forbes Magazine told me that I have to start being serious about investing while I'm still 35. I've got about a month (yes, that was a subtle hint for the birthday. I am, in fact, one of those terribly obnoxious people who love birthdays...mine more than anyones.)

So, there you go.
I'm detoxing my life.
And let me tell you, it's a pretty good feeling.
Oh, it's been 15 minutes.
I need to take another sip.

I trust the end is even better!

"Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof..." (Eccl. 7:8)

Goodbye 2007.
Officially.
You were important to me for a hundred different reasons. I am not even close to the girl I was when you began. THANK YOU for getting me to a different place in my life. So, don't take this personally...
But, seriously....
HASTA LA VISTA.
GOED TOT ZIENS.
AU REVOIR.
AUF WIEDERSEHEN.
ARRIVEDERCI.
GOOD BYE!

Hello, 2008!
I trust you are as excited to be here as I am to have you hear. I want you to know that I am ready for whatever. I say "bring it on".

I was awakened early this morning by a dream that showed me a glimpse of what you COULD be. It will take a bit of courage, but like my current favorite quote says, "Courage can't see around corners but goes around them anyway." I'm ready to go around this corner.
Really I am.
So, hello!

I've never felt more ready to be me.

I think 2008 and I are going to get a long just fine. And I totally trust that it will end even better than it is beginning...And if the way I feel this morning is any indication of that beginning, the end is going to be pretty dang great.

Stay tuned!