I once read this thing for bloggers that said if you aren't around for a while and then you come back, you shouldn't mention it, that a "Holy shit, I'm sorry I haven't updated in a hot minute--um, six months!" post is purely amateur hour. But yeah, I'm purely amateur hour, so here you have it. I ain't been around. There are reasons for this. Reasons that I'll hopefully explicate in some detail in this post.
Life has really been weird these past....four or five months. No, nothing has really happened. I'm not pregnant, I'm not getting divorced, I haven't grown a tentacle or had my nose run off to join the army. Life has just been blah. Somewhere in the daily battle to curtail the never ending flow of laundry and get to work and try to be a somewhat decent human being, and oh, well try to decide what in the living state of SHIT I am supposed to do with my life, everything got a little lost. Truthfully, I got a little lost. And it is kind of hard to keep up with a blog when you can't think of anything in your life to do except complain. No one wants to read that, and if they do, well, there's Facebook. 24 hour a day complaining about everything from censorship to Starbucks to one's love life. It is truly horrible, but if you're like me, you have your phone glued to your hand all the time, ready to subject yourself to more of it. MASOCHISTS, ya'll.
These past four to five months, I didn't go shopping one time (at least not for myself). I quit reading a lot of my favorite blogs, I quit paying much attention to anything fun or interesting. It all felt a little pointless, I guess, and sad in a way. Empty. I fought with myself about the person I was, the person I saw myself becoming, the person I needed to be. Somehow, wrap dresses and denim trousers and boots didn't seem to fit into that. I started to gain weight, mostly because I've been eating complete and utter crap. We're talking Wendy's for lunch nearly everyday (for reals, ya'll, have you had the asiago ranch chicken sandwich with spicy chicken? OMFG, those things are too freaking good. I will end up with botulism or butt cancer or something because of my love for them over the past little bit, but despite it all, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for them).
And then, one night, I sat watching What Not to Wear whilst eating a chunk of Trader Joe's caramelized onion cheddar and realized that I was turning into the lady on the show, pre-makeover. She complained about not having time, she had circles under her eyes, her clothes were sad. I almost cried. I went to bed feeling defeated.
So now, here I sit. I am now 29 years old. I am not where I want to be, ultimately, but really, I have some plans in the works, and things are starting to solidify. And this past weekend, I went to the outlet malls with my mom handily watching my children, and I got new clothes. And yes, it is sad, but I feel like a different person. I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, wearing new crisp denim trousers and a cardigan (yes, it is a uniform of sorts), and I felt good. I felt like me. Which is an altogether different feeling than what I've been experiencing. Was it the clothes? Yeah, probably. But not just them. They, and a little bit of learning to accept myself and what makes me happy FOR BETTER OR WORSE is what did it.
I can't tell you how to live your life, because, well, if you took advice from me, you'd be stupid. I am, after all, a 29 year old mother of three who lives in a small town she alternately despises and is indifferent to, who does nothing to use her hard-won college degree and sometimes has a hard time differentiating between right and left. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE. RUN. But I'll tell you this: be true to yourself, no matter what that means. If you like lipstick and beer, fuck it, that's what you like. Don't overindulge to the point of messing up your life, but you know, enjoy those things. Don't fight it. Don't try to change things that have no business being changed.
And TREAT YO SELF. Life is too short to go through it wearing bad shoes.
I've put a lot of thought into this, and perhaps today is a good day to share this, what with it being my birthday and new beginnings and all of that: from now on, when I post on here, I'm going to be 100% truthful with you about everything that is going on with me (of course, leaving out anything that has to do with poop or health things or other people who might defriend me on FB, or you know, set fire to my house were I to share too much). I have never really lied on this blog, but anyone who uses the internet knows that absolutely no one is completely truthful about this stuff--we all share what would flatter us, what would make others think that we are amazing credits to the world. And I think this is a problem. It is hard to compare your behind the scenes daily issues with the highlight reel everyone else shows. So, I'm just gonna say it. I ain't perfect. My life ain't perfect. And if I can help someone else by admitting as much, hell, I'll be happy to do that.
And ya'll, as of tomorrow (after I eat the luscious dark chocolate raspberry Nigella Lawson creation that I have prepared for myself), I am back on Weight Watchers. And I'm going to talk about that some too, just to keep myself on the wagon. This is especially going to be tough here at the beginning, as I am going to Jamaica next week. More on that later when I have a bit more sarcastic jocularity to share.
So for now, happy birthday to me and thanks for reading this, if in fact anyone is. Treat yo self.