Friday, June 18, 2010

Adventure Bowl
Do Something That Makes You Feel Like a Kid Again!

If you're life is busy and hectic with a list a mile long of errands, to do's and ASAPs, then you need a break. A JOY break.

When I found myself at my spiritual, emotional and exhaustion filled "bottom," I knew I had to do something about it. For me, I had a great motivator. It was coming up on my cousin's anniversary of death and I felt ashamed that instead of celebrating his life, instead of living the biggest fullest life that he would want me to live... I was stuck in bed, feeling lonely and alone. And hopeless.

So I pushed myself. One adventure a week. One thing to get me out of the house. One thing to help me find my joy.

It worked. As you know, I'm back at it again. And nothing makes me more excited than this week's adventure: "Do Something That Makes You Feel Like A Kid Again." Oh, man, I could think of a million!

Play Rundown, Swing on a swing, Blow Bubbles, go Ice Skating, Stand on my Skate Board and "surf" off the back of my friend's car. (But since I recently broke and had surgery on my shoulder... that will have to wait for another time!)

And then it came to me. I wanna ride a Ferris Wheel! I want to go way up high and feel thrilled and scared and laugh and eat cotton candy!

So it's on! I'm leaving right now and I CANNOT WAIT! When I pool crashed, I literally had this excited, "Nothing can stop me now" feeling that I'm getting already. It's that "kid excitement." I love that!

I'll update this post on Monday.

So, what's one thing YOU COULD DO this weekend that would make you feel like a kid again? Dying to hear :)


Ooo, and I know I can be a bad girl with infrequent postings, so please follow if you want to know when a new post is up!
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Monday, June 14, 2010

The Insane Ramblings of a Tequila Filled Nut


I LOVE how profound I think I am when I have too many margaritas. Margaritas are you see, my truth serum. So I had many... many for me Saturday night and I wrote kind of, what seemed to me the most truthful, insightful, meaningful post of A LIFETIME.

Then the next day with out reading it, I took it down - mostly, I was too afraid I had been too honest about some aspects of my life. But reading it today, I see it really should have been taken down for self-indulgent navel gazing and bad grammar.

The gist was... that after experiencing this giant fall, of which I have been told by many doctors, that I am lucky to be alive and even more doctors, that I am lucky to not be paralyzed - after all that, why am I not like, traveling the world, having bikini waxes in Brazil, my hair braided in Costa Rica and laying out on Diddy's yacht in the Seychelles?

How many more life changing moments do I need in life to move, move, move?

Here's an excerpt of what I wrote where I'm frustrated that I am trying to convey to friends that I feel like something is missing but no one, perhaps because of their fears of their own lives, wants to engage in any kind of deep meaningful conversation.

"I am frustrated because I feel like I am reaching out to friends to say, I can't stand this way of life... I'm in on the secret, IT COULD END AT ANY TIME and yet -- they just smile politely as if they don't know what I am talking about. As if I am having a tantrum and if they just ignore me it will all blow over.

Is anyone getting what I'm feeling? I feel really alone, like I want to BUST OUT but there is no support, like to be my own, STEAD FAST, DETERMINED person. It would not be supported AND the fact that I might be alone pursuing this new life... makes me afraid.

Is anyone getting what I'm feeling?


There's more to write. The short version is, as I have been telling friends, I want to quit my job and move and try to live the life I would live if I weren't so afraid - I AM GETTING SOOOOO MUCH RESISTANCE to that. And it's making me feel resentful but it's also working because it is nagging at my deepest insecurities.

So I will leave you with that and I will write more soon.

But I'd be interested to know, do you ever feel like friends hold you back? Because of their own fears? Or is it jealously that you might make your life better while they are not ready too?

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PS, some of you asked me to add a "Follow" button so you wouldn't miss any more drunken rants! Please follow!
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Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Do What I Say & Lose 5 Pounds Instantly!


Don't I sound like one of those bad commercials at 3:00am? So I've dipped back in my adventure bowl (where, PS, I added "pose for a nude-y photo" - don't blame me, you guys voted for it on Twitter!) and the last two weekend adventures have been awesome.

And not just 'cause I lost five pounds. Which I know is totally tied to being super extra happy after doing something that is unexpected, exciting and totally out of my comfort zone.

Every adventure that I put in the bowl has a reason. Like when, I got offered from a blogger to take a nude photo (and we're talking shadows and hands placed in VERY stratigic places), I put it in the bowl because I want to confront body issues and that seemed like a cool way to do so.

So let me cover the last 2 week adventures. The first was to crash a hotel pool. The reason for this one is I'm so much of a goody-goody it hurts but I knew crashing on Memorial Day at The Standard in downtown LA would be near impossible. I like challenges that are a little naughty too, do I grabbed my bathing suit, fake Louis Vuitton bag (which I'm convinced will get me in anywhere) and my computer.

Once I got down there, I could not believe the line, it was wrapped around the hotel. Shit, how was I going to get in there. I went through a side door that I saw an employee come through which happened to be DUH, another entrance. So there I was, in the luxury, air conditioned innards of the hotel while every one else waited in line. I think a lot of spray tans and hair gel was blocking people's ability to walk AROUND to the side entrance.

Okay, now I'm in, but their is a guard at the escalator. Fine, I researched this. I got this. I get on the elevator, go to the 12th floor where I know there is an elevator that takes guests right to the roof. Activate Louis Vuitton bag.

I press the button to go up. Then again. And again and again again again again again again again again AGAIN! Nothing. They shut off this elevator because of people like me. This does not deter me, it actually makes me waaaaay more determined. I find a fire door and climb the stairs. (Note to self: more cardio workouts).

I'm just outside the door and I can hear a guard's walkie-talkie crackling. Are you KIDDING me? Come on! I open the door. He tells me, I can't be up there. I say all I want to do is give my (fake made up) boss his computer bag. I wave my (fake) Louis Vuitton in front of him. "Go downstairs and get a wrist band."

And then he slams the door in my face.

Now, a vein is about to burst out of my neck! I'm getting in that frickin' pool. I go downstairs. Think, plan, pace. Then there he is.

Josh Molina. Do you know who that is? He was on "The West Wing" and my fav show of all time, "Sports Night." Anyhoo... he has just checked in with his wife and the staff is fawning all over him. I mean, the oozing, sickening super fake LA fawning. I get in the elevator with him and his wife. They get out, I go to the roof top.

God, I hope this works.

I go to a different security guard and before he can slam the door in my face, I tell him that I have to get my boss' computer to him right now. "My boss... Josh Molina." And then I'm in.

Yep.

Never take no for an answer.

I canon balled the shit out of that pool and then I got the hell out of there. But I never felt so fierce in my life. Just like... I can do anything.

The other adventure pales in comparison so I don't want to ruin this new awesome memory buzz I'm having right now. Excited to see what this week end brings.

Please don't let it be nude photos!

I LOVE your comments. Please leave one :)
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Thursday, June 3, 2010

How Falling Down A Hill Has Rocked My World & Hopefully Will Change My Life

Do you believe in signs? I never did. But when I look back on the past several years, I can't believe how big and obvious some are, like a huge thunder clap warning me of impending doom.

Like, several years ago, I was experiencing this thing where my heart was beating, literally, 240 beats a minute when it should normally beat at 90. This would go on until I had to be hospitalized and they would have to stop my heart and then restart it. That is some bull shit when you are in your 20s.

I knew it was because I was in a high stress job that I deeply hated. It took me years to get up the courage to quit and take a job with a 75% pay cut to be a writer's assistant. I had to hear that my job was killing me before I quit.

When my cousin was murdered a few years ago, I had some of the most honest thoughts come to me. I'm not happy. I don't like where I live. I have my dream job but I can't help wondering if this is all there is to life?

You would think that would be the perfect time to make some big life changes but I couldn't. If my dreams can reveal anything about my state of mind, I will tell you, I would often dream that a huge wave was coming after me, I would turn to run but another wave was coming in the other direction. Sometimes, the waves were make of rocks. I would not only be knocked down but pushed and buried into the earth.

The fear and immobility in my dreams came to life by day, where I did nothing. Literally spending, 100 days (and really many more) in bed.

You guys know the story from there.

But here I am again with this big huge NEON LIGHT blinking at me, saying "It's time for a change, it's time to stop ignoring your gut, it's time for some action. You are not happy. What are you going to do to get there?"

It all started when I fell down a hill a year ago.

And fell and fell and fell and fell. Until the only thing to break my fall was a huge retaining wall. My head hit that and I was gone. Unconscious.

I am now 70 feet down a steep hill - no one can see me from the street. But a woman is walking her baby and she literally heard the fall and dialed 911.

She told them she thought I was dead.

There was blood everywhere. There was pain everywhere. I had dislocated my shoulder. The screaming started in the ambulance, the pain was so unbelieveable. Every bump on the road made me scream louder. I lost the ability to be polite or a good girl.

At the hospital, I was cut out of my shirt, I was told I could get a pain shot before they put my shoulder back in (which was going to hurt like a mother fucker) but it would take 5 - 7 minutes to kick it. "No," I cried, "Just do it." Just do it with no pain meds. I couldn't wait, I was dying.

More screaming. Then stitching, then head shaving, then staples in the head with no pain meds, then CTs, CAT scans, every scan you can imagine, IVs, pills, blood. Disaster.

I spent weeks in bed, in a giant brace unable to cook, wash myself, my hair (had a friend do that), or in any other way care for myself.

It was a really dark time. But in darkness, in stillness, that's when our guts are screaming to us out loud. All the little intuitive moments about what I should do with my life to make it better - you know what I used to do with those? Play the music louder, call friends, waste time on the internet, have a margarita and make it go away.

When you are unable to even get yourself out of a hospital gown... when you can't physically run from your situation, you can bet you can't escape it any other way either.

Which is why I am so frickin' grateful for that fall. I feel like it's going to change my life. It's a year later and I am several months out from surgery on my shoulder. More time in bed, more thinking, writing, weighing my life choices.

So now it's time to act.

I want to move to New York and start a whole new life.

But am I being rash? Am I, having always made no decisions because of fear, now going the opposite end of the spectrum? A reader, A Living Diary, commented: "I've discovered that moving doesn't help you escape yourself. You can't run from who you are. You need to first learn to love yourself the way you are right now and then figure out how to grow or change."

That was like a punch in the stomach, a shake by the shoulders into reality. What am I really doing? Running to a new life or just trying to run away from an old one?

That's why I am doing these adventures. When I did them last time, I was my happiest and I had so much clarity that I know if I do them again, I will find my best decision making self.

Can pool hopping or gay wedding crashing help me make a decision to uproot my life and move to New York to start anew?

Well, we'll just have to see now, won't we?

If you like this post, feel free to share it with others. A shoutout on Facebook or Twitter would make me so happy :)
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Saturday, May 29, 2010

All You Need Is Love (and Sex and Cheetos), But Right Now, Mostly, Love


You guys cannot believe how it makes a girl feel to throw up a blog post after a year plus of not blogging and get hundreds of views, so many amazing comments and emails.

I feel like I stepped on a scale and lost ten pounds and you know how frickin' excited that gets me! I have so much to tell you guys, that I'm not just overwhelmed by all the love but all I have to fill you in on.

Today, I'm going to make it simple. I just want to talk about the intention of this blog and what got me back to blogging again. Um... my life sucks. In a way I thought it would never suck again after sucking so bad a few years ago.

It I might have let it continue to suck because in this case it was sucking to a less degree than last time that I did not realize the accumulative suckiness until I took stock in my life.

It was 4 weeks ago when my Mom told me my cousin had brain cancer. One week later, she was in the hospital and really sick herself.

I could add to that that I am currently jobless, boyfriendless, a bit of fat-ass-ness but that all seems to pale in comparison to these new set of circumstances.

When my Mom told me about my cousin, I started crying. That heaving crying that is really ugly, that starts with tears streaming and pretty soon you are making noises that most resemble a braying donkey but you are so lost in the words that you just heard that you have no room for self-consciousness or even sense to protect the person that is watching you be consumed with sadness.

I would like to say that I thought about my cousin, would he live or die? How was the surgery? When will we know the pathology?

But instead, I cried out, "I don't want to live in L.A. anymore."

If you think that is selfish, don't worry, being Catholic meant that I relentlessly flagrated myself for having such "all about me thoughts."

But later, when I really thought about it, say sitting on the floor of my Mother's hospital room floor for days on end, I realized there was some deeper meaning to my outburst.

What I really meant was, "I don't want to live this way anymore." Maybe there's a way you don't want to live - in a relationship that no longer makes you happy, in a job that doesn't appreciate you, scared about finances, upset that life doesn't seem to be as sparkly and fun anymore.

Because I am always looking in, hashing and rehashing, what was said, what does it mean, like I am some kind of CSI investigator of my own words and thoughts and intentions, I dissected it even more. I knew, had I been told, as my cousin had, "You have a brain tumor the size of an apple in your head and you could die" (which is probably not what the doctor said or he has a really bad bedside manner that he needs to work on, but that is kind if the gist)...

If I had been told - I would be very unhappy with what I had done with my life so far.

And let me tell you, that a realization like that, is a kick in the balls, even though I have no balls, but I have had many boyfriends that have balls say there is no feeling like it and that's what I had - a feeling that hurt so bad it could not be ignored.

It's like - you find out your boyfriend/husband/girlfriend/wife is cheating with your best friend and NOW here is the kicker - YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT and that "doing something about it," is going to CHANGE YOUR WHOLE LIFE.

Like for me, I will either ignore this new found information and change my life because I can or I will bury my head in the sand and just move forward and hate myself, years down the line, because when I was young and able I could have changed my life but didn't and now there is this girl that comes from hospice care to feed me through a tube and during the commercials for my favorite soap opera, I think back to how with just a few FEARLESS changes, my life could have been AWESOME.

You feel me? So what I am saying is: I gotta fix my life. And the last time I needed to fix my life, doing those adventures once a week - whether it was pool crashing a five star hotel or indoor sky diving made me feel so SUPER STRONG that I could take on ANYTHING IN LIFE.

And I did and life was awesome. And that's what I want back. But not just for me but for anyone feeling this way.

In fact, I'd love to hear some ideas, for you and for me! They don't have to be huge. Just something that, if you did it, when you lay your head on the bed that night you might feel giggly and proud of yourself. So far mine are: get in the car and start driving until you can't drive anymore and then stay the night in that town, get pink hair (haven't pulled that one yet), redecorate your apartment in one day (this is something I have been dithering about on for years and BAM! I'm going to do it like I'm on some HGTV show), jump out of an air plane, go water skiing, over come fear of water before jet skiing...

Got some more adventures for me???? Write them in the comments section and I will add them to the bowl!
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Thursday, May 27, 2010

Introducing the Most Selfish Person in the World or "How I Was Told My Cousin Has Brain Cancer & All I Could Think About Was Me"


I'm back you guys. Remember me? The girl who within six months, lost her job, broke up with her boyfriend, lost a cousin in an accident and Mom went bat shit crazy bananas.

Yeah, that's me.

The one who got under the covers of her cozy bed and did not get out for a looooooooooong time. Who, once she did and decided to face the holy mess of her life and SWORE, once she was out of the many months... okay, year, funk she was in, would never, ever, never, never go back?

Still me?

So why does my life suck so bad?

And why am I talking about myself in third person?

The regular readers know I started this blog because I swore I would not meet another year anniversary of the death of my cousin without doing something about it. The "it" was getting out of bed. I was so down - as a lot of women get after a break-up, a divorce, losing a job - that I had succumed to the covers, laying here, stairing down the abyss that was my life.

It became so overwhelming, all those bad things - happening at once - that I didn't know what to do.

So I did nothing.

If you're new, you can read the posts here that document how I got out of that. Once I couldn't take it anymore, once I had grown hair on my legs that I could braid, and grew a second ass (getting out of bed to pee is not exercise), and many months of roots were showing, and I missed the sunshine and I missed the old me and I knew if my cousin, mother, ex, anyone, saw me this way that I would be even more deeply ashamed...

I came up with a plan.

One day a week, do something totally fun. Completely exciting. That would make me giggle and feel reckless, and get me out of my comfort zone and get back to the me that was the me before everything came crashing down.

I would pool crash, I would steal from the dessert station from the Four Seasons, I would test drive a Porsche, I would sky dive, I would rock repel, I would crowd surf at a concert.

Week after week, I pulled one thing out of my "Adventure Bowl" and I did it - no turning back, no being to scared, no "I'll just pick something else."

It changed my life.

I got out of bed.

I came back to myself. My life massively improved.

Massively.

Everything was chugging along great. But it was so great that I didn't have to possibly do these adventures anymore. Right? My life was full now. Great job, friends, great everything.

The Bowl gathered dust.

I got cocky.

Like when you lose ten pounds because you exercised and ate five servings of vegetables everyday just like a good American following that food pyramid and all of a sudden, you start to slip and slide and soon, you are not packing lunch anymore and "I guess I could have a few fries" and why have a diet soda when you could have beer and pretty soon a sensible breakfast isn't egg whites but a cheese and onion bagel with cream cheese.

(Which is currently what I am eating right now. And even the server didn't get it. Why would I want cream cheese when I'm already eating a cheese bagel? Skinny people don't understand me.)

Anyway, I slipped and then I slided.

And then one day, I found myself at the bottom of a hill, bloodied and unconscious, after a fall. Being lifted out by fire men. And after being bedridden for over a month, I wondered, maybe if I didn't give up those adventures and maybe if I had stayed connected to myself, maybe I would know how to deal with a life blow like this.

Only I didn't.


To Be Continued in the Next Post...

I promise to update this story tomorrow - with full details about how I fell down a hill, broke my shoulder, found out my cousin has brain cancer and my Mom got sick again and how I am going to rededicate myself to the big ol' Bowl of Adventure and get my life back on track again.
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Sunday, January 11, 2009

Reading This Blog Post Will Take Unsightly Inches Off Your Hips and Thighs

Thanks for all the well wishes when I was sick. (I'm convinced it was "Pigeon Flu" due to the filthy feathered family that has burrowed it's way into my roof. Feathers are coming out of the ceiling fan, people!)

Anyway, it really meant a lot. It made me think about how when I started this blog, my biggest goal was to GET OUT OF BED and here I was, super sick, stuck in bed.

But what was cool is... I didn't have any of those weird fears, like this time spent in bed sick was going to lead back to the time where I couldn't get out of bed due to, in six months, losing my job, breaking up with my boyfriend, a death in the family, having to move back home when my Mom got sick, freaking out about finances and growing a second ass due to my affinity for eating all things Frito-Lay during my malaise.

That made me think how far I've come: to someone, who just over a year ago who literally had to make a pact with myself to get out of bed during daylight hours, and as a way to slough off the blues, forced myself to do an adventure a week would jolt me back to living life the way I knew I wanted to. (Check out any of the entries that start with "Adventure Bowl" to read those.)

Now fast forward and everything I hoped test driving a Porsche or flying on a trapeze or posing as a bride for the free cake (!) or pool crashing would do for me, has done that and 1000x more. I lost 20 pounds, I gained an awesome job... like dream job status, I ended some (bad) friendships, I made some new fierce ones, I try new things all the time, I started some great volunteer work and most of all, I don't wear pajamas 'til 3pm anymore.

This is like, a life, I could have never seen a year ago for myself.

So I am going to continue doing what I've been doing, carving out time for me to surprise myself with something that ("cheesey" alert) gives back to my soul. It's weird, but I am telling you, if you go ride a ferris wheel today, you will be smiling for week.

Giving time to yourself, doing unexpected things - you will be shocked what it can do for you.

Fears will be overcome.

You will let go of things that don't matter.

You will laugh more which will attract good, fun, caring, loving people wanting to be around you.

You will stop complaining because the happier you are the less you complain. Also, the happier you are, the more you want to stay happy. So you become solution oriented. You fix problems as they come up because you don't want them to interfere with your happiness.

You get rid of things you don't need. Possessions don't make you happy, the life you create does.

You begin to see people more clearly. That's a hard one. But it will force your hand to see who can stay and who has to go.

You start to feel if you can do this (your little adventure of the week) maybe you can do anything. When you set goals and attain them, it pushes you on with confidence to make new, bigger goals.

So, what am I saying?

I'm saying, yes, I am still going to do my weekly adventures and I'm still going to write about them. It excites me (dork-ily) BEYOND WORDS, if this can be the change in a year with me, how much more can I change? (Exciting!) But right now, the biggest way to get back to myself is to take some time for myself. Time to write other projects I want to write, time to travel and do things that I haven't had space for because I have been so busy with the blog.

I'll keep checking back here. I always read comments and I promise to respond if you guys have questions or anything. And I promise, in the future, there will be a new blog, too. It has meant so much to me that so many of you have written me to say you relate to what I went through and have been inspired by my journey. Love, love, love you.

Okay, why aren't you running out to go ride a ferris wheel right now????


This post is dedicated to BEAUTIFUL READERS. You're the ones I like best.
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Saturday, December 20, 2008

You Probably Shouldn't Mention To Oprah That I Once Wanted to Tell Her To 'Shove It'

This is a phone call between me and a good friend... so I'll refer to this person as GF.

Me: What's up?

GF: Okay, I didn't want to say anything but I thought that the post you wrote about finally realizing the importance of writing in your gratitude journal was really awesome.

Me: Awww, thank you.

GF: And... I have a friend of a friend that knows someone who used to work for Oprah and I am going to get them to get your post to "O" Magazine!

Me: (unsure) O-kay...

GF: You don't seem that happy. THIS IS OPRAH! The Oprah! What if she loves it? What if she has it published?

Me: No, that'd... that'd be great.

GF: You know, I really went out of my way to call around and see if I could even attempt to get it to her people and now, you're not exactly acting the way I thought you would.

Me: It's just... I guess if I had known, and believe me, I know you did an unbelievable thing, but if I had known, I would have changed the title of the blog post.

GF: What was it again?

Me: "Sometimes I Really Wanted To Tell Oprah To Shove It."

GF: (long silence, then): Uh-huh.

Me: No one who works for Oprah is going to recommend to Oprah an article where someone says they once wanted to tell Oprah to "Shove it."

GF: No, they are not.

Me: Which means...?

GF: I probably wasted a lot of time.

Me: You kinda did.


But I still looooooooooovvvvvvvvve you for it. With extra Os and Vs... that's love I never give out.


This blog is dedicated to the awesomeness that is housesitting.

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Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Look Who Lost 20 Pounds By Her Birthday

I'll write longer soon. Just wanted to check in and say I had the BEST birthday ever... the festivities started last Friday night and they continue tonight with dinner and drinks near by.

And the best gift?

When I stepped on the scale yesterday (the real birthday)... I couldn't believe I am now down 20 pounds.

I was kind of surprised as I haven't been the most rigorous with my program of late. Fried ravioli and wine anyone?

So... here's to hallelujahs, happy birthdays and half off jeans at Old Navy. I already need a new, smaller pair!
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Sunday, December 14, 2008

Sometimes I Really Wanted To Tell Oprah To Shove It

Around the time my cousin passed away and my life was falling apart and I was eating a lot of 7-11 danishes; I was scheduling my day around Oprah because if anyone was going to make everything okay, it was Oprah.

Only Oprah, didn't make everything okay. Oprah made it worse.

Oprah was telling me that the key to solving all my problems during the downward spiral of my life was... (wait for it, wait for it...) for me to keep a gratitude journal.

Where I would write down what I was grateful for.

And I was thinking, "Is she f*&%ing kidding me?"

Supposedly, keeping this journal was supposed to make me concentrate on all the wonderful things I did have and not focus on the things I didn't (ya know, like a happy, healthy family, boyfriend or job).

It really made me resentful someone so rich, who had access to anything she wanted in the world, was telling me that what I needed to do to get happy was to go buy a $1,000 Kate Spade lamb skin journal and list all the things I was grateful for.

(PS, she did not tell me to buy a $1,000 Kate Spade lamb skin journal, that in fact, probably doesn't even exit. But when Oprah held hers up, it resembled something luxurious and that probably cost more than my monthly rent. And I cannot confirm, though I am probably sure, there is one less pink lamb in the world.)

Then, my therapist, who obviously went to the Oprah Winfrey School of Psychology, told me to do the same thing: Keep a Gratitude Journal. I imagined her watching Oprah and taking notes, "Tell all patients to make a gratitude journal, bill them $100 dollars."

I was BEYOND furious about this. Really, this is the best you have for me? I mean, I am really falling apart here. (7-11 danishes!)

But I did it, I wrote in my damn journal, because I'm a good girl and good girls do what they are told.

Now those were dark days and I just could not find anything to be grateful for. Somedays I would just write, "My dog." My therapist kept telling me that a day would come that I would have more things to be thankful for.

(She heard that on Oprah and was just praying it come true, lest I fire her and move on to a therapist that was watching Dr. Phil and was at least going to tell me to, "Get real about my life.")

So there I sat with my journal and wrote that I was grateful for my dog and the day that would come where I would not having to go to therapy anymore.

Then, I don't know how, but things started to change. I started noticing that everyone around me was complaining so much. About the little things. Things that to me, felt trivial. I felt like I knew what real problems were. They are people dying, watching your loved ones suffer and losing the ability to provide for yourself.

I started getting involved in a social network where people are dealing with illness and sometimes, terminal illness. They worry they won't live to see their children graduate grade school, they are having their home foreclosed on because their disease is so expensive, a teenager is asking for prayers for her sister who needs 7 surgeries that week.

And then I woke up.

Any of these people would trade their lives for mine, like I wanted to trade my with Oprah. To them, I have everything.

And then I realized, I have A LOT to be grateful for.

Tomorrow is my birthday and I can't think of one thing I want. That is the definition of a person who wants for nothing. How could I not see to be grateful for that?

Now I shoot things off in my gratitude journal like Oprah's favorite student. It was by seeing the things other people take for granted that I could see what I was taking for granted in my own life.

I started to see with wider eyes, the people in my neighbor hood collecting cans just to eat. A listing in the paper about a foreclosed home made me think of the family that lost the roof over their head. A friend losing their insurance because they lost their job made me feel lucky I could go to the doctor.

So I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. Health. Shelter. Food. Friends, really great friends. Family and family beyond just my family, that I could turn to if things got financially bad. Health insurance. Clothes. The ability to take care of myself.

Oprah.

Mostly Oprah.

It's kind of changed my life.

Because when you are not bitter and you are not feeling sorry for yourself, you get a lot done. Positive things. And then more positive things come your way. And then your life is swirling into something better than you imagined... it becomes something you could never see that you could create in the days of thinking you had nothing.

I'm not saying all dark days are behind... but I don't want to tell Oprah to shove it any more. And I haven't for a really long time.


This blog is dedicated to letting go of bad things so some more good things can come in.


You know what makes the perfect holiday gift, besides bourbon? This post! Send it to some friends by using the little email envelope icon below!
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