Yes, that.

As much as I love class, and I do love my classes, summer school is still trying to kill me.

I have fifteen 500 word essays to write for Monday. Awesome. Not.

My eyeballs also feel like I went swimming in the ocean for ten hours while clothes pins hold my eyelids open. They hurt, a lot.

I need a nap, an extra week to do all the things, something to make me sleep, and some simple solutions to big problems that I can't fix.

Yes, that.

This and that and whoa, a lot.

Summer school might be the death of me. There was a mistake online and I thought my course was spread out over the next few weekends. WRONG. It's the next two weeks Monday-Friday 1-5pm everyday.

This means I'm working from 8-noon, summer school from 1-5, meetings and events following, and then around 100 pages of reading every night plus assignments on top of that. I am a lot luckier than some - I'm not working full time. I do feel rather overwhelmed though.

I've lost five pounds in the last four days though. Hurrah! I'd like to keep that trend going.

I also have Alex's wedding this weekend. I'm a bridesmaid. I'm so looking forward to celebrating with her and Jeff. She's going to make a STUNNING bride. There is no doubt of that. It's just getting out of this head space that I'm in right now to fully enjoy the celebration. I think Friday morning mains and pedis with the bride and other bridesmaids will be just the trick.

start.rant//Norman does not have anywhere I can find a pair of black, satin, peep toe, pumps. Um, WHAT?!? It's not like I'm looking for 6 inch hot pink and electric blue metal studded wedges in size 13. I'm looking for a wardrobe staple shoe to wear with my dress and can't find a pair. I suppose I deserve it for waiting so long to look for a pair. I'm just super strapped for time and need to make an OKC trip at some point. Ain't nobody got time for that.//end.rant

Anyone else have fun plans for the weekend?

Number three: I have the best "family"

Post three in my series:

I come from a small family. I have three first cousins. We, meaning my brother, sister, and I, are not close to those cousins for various reasons including the age gap, how far away we live from one another, and general differences in disposition that make us less inclined to make massive attempts to change any of this. That may seem rude, and it probably is. I'm just calling it like it like I see it. (It's a two way street, they could make an effort, but choose not to either. I am ok with this.)

That said, our "family" is the best. It mainly consists of the family friends that my are people my dad either grew up with, or went to college with. Their kids are the closest thing I've got to cousins. They are the best.  I consider myself lucky to hang out with this crowd. They're the cool kids and I lucked into calling friend. Any one of them would have my back if I needed it. 

These pictures come from Kelby's (another one of my "cousins") wedding this weekend. I don't have any with the bride but, these are just a few of the important people I adore. 

Me and Sam

Susan, my mom, and Sherri

As my dad refers to himself, "the dad"

Susan and Monty

Jacque, me, and Sam

Jacque, me, and Sam enjoying the post wedding festivities

We're so attractive.

Someone should have taken away the technology at this point :). 

I am a lucky and loved girl. I only hope that I show them how much I appreciate them.

first of a few

It's been a busy time in microcosm called graduate school. This semester consumed every bit of energy I held in reserve and a little more just for good measure. Lost somewhere between the good, the bad, and the ugly, I found a little bit of equilibrium.

I have pictures to prove it. This will be the first of a few posts summing up the past few months. 

Let's start with friends. This subject is both awesome and tough. I've made a few close friends at OU this time around. I've also spent a lot of time alone. Sometimes, it's just really hard. I've met some great friends that I've gotten to do really bomb things with. Kate is a perfect example. She's wonderful and we get along so very, very well.

We made these awesome ottomans from shipping palates. Yes, we're legit. 

Then, there have been other moments with people I would call friends that make me realize I'm just not a cool kid and probably won't ever be. I'm ok with being nerdy, passionate, and a know-it-all. I have to accept those parts of myself because I cannot change it no matter how hard I try. They've always been there.  I always considered myself a good friend, though. I am loyal, generous with my time, energy, and anything I can share, and I love to be my friends' biggest cheerleader. These are truths about me as a person. 

But, it hurts when a huge group of people I would have counted close friends from undergrad and some  people I've only come to know this year, but would consider friends, don't think to include me in some fun stuff they're doing. I wish I could say it's just a random oversight, but this is also a group of people I'd call the cool kids of undergrad. I was not a cool kid by any stretch, but I did work closely with many of this group so many times for different events. Some of them I even considered my closest friends from my bachelors'. I am learning that it wasn't necessarily a two way street. 

And that's really hard. I want to accept it and be thankful of the people I do have in my life. The ones that want me around as much as I want to hang around with them are the people who should matter. Still, when I realize that I'm not a cool kid and plenty of people don't think of me as someone to invite when they are the people I would think to invite, it makes my breath catch if it hits me in the right moment. Ouch. 

And all of this made me think. I'm grateful for the people who matter, and will work on reminding myself that not everyone needs to like me as long as I love myself. It's a process. I'm working on it.

BFFL

I've made a new best friend. Have you ever met someone and it just clicks? If you haven't - there is still time. Don't you worry. If you have, isn't it just so nice?

That's how it is with Kate. Kate and I met about a year ago on an interview for the same position. The vibes from everyone on that weekend were weird, so I didn't really try to make friends. I wasn't being rude or anything, but we were all interviewing for the same 6-10 jobs... It was bound to be a little awk. 

Kate and I really met about a month or so ago. I ADORE her. She's sunshine and glitter and laughs and  artsy and yes. We get along SO SO SO well. Perfect example: we were talking about pintrest and then spent the next three hours searching for shipping pallets to steal from dumpsters take off some store that was just going to throw them out to DIY on. We were massively successful. For the win. We're going to have so much fun crafting this summer. In all the ways I'm crafty, she is artistic. And it's going to have some BOMB results. Just you wait, blogosphere, just you wait. 

And we had almost this exact conversation yesterday spontaneously.

She's a rock star and I am lucky to have such a good friend here. We're also insanely alike in some big ways, and yet so different in others.

I seriously love her.

For all the time I spend with other people, I felt pretty lonely in the past semester or two... This has been just what I needed. 

thoughts for the day.

So, my dad went to therapy with me. I have a lot of feelings about this that I'm not overly ready to get into, but it has given me a lot to think about. I also want to preface all of this with a few things.

1. I am exceptionally loved. This is not something I doubt and it is not something I have ever questioned. 
2. I have never gone without anything I needed. 
3. My father's care for me and my needs is so amazingly apparent in his willingness to fly 500 miles to go to therapy with me even though he is not a fan of therapy at all. 

One of the things that my therapist made mention of was how it's clear that I run the conversations Dad and I have had in real life, or the way I think they would go if we were talking about X subject, whatever X subject is, in my head over and over. Because I know his responses so well, and sincerely, I do know his responses and how they make me feel so well, it is exhausting.

I expend the emotions and mental worry over these conversations I hold in my head when I rehearse them which makes me not want to repeat the conversation in person for the exact same outcome and the additional burden of the actual experience as opposed to just the expectation of the awfulness of it all. Though my internal perception of what will come is typically spot on, it's worse in some ways because it's not actually my parents saying those words (until they do), but rather me telling myself the same things they would. It's a double whammy after it's come from me a few dozen times followed by the actual conversation with them.

So, I avoid bringing things up entirely and have become very good at just telling my parents the stuff they need to know on a need to know basis. They feel very cut out of the loop by this. I get that. It's my fault and a deserved criticism. I have done it as a way to protect myself from the weight and shame of being utterly disappointing. I also try to present everything as a complete and neat package so that I'm ready to field the upset and angry questions with all of the answers.

I'm too organized and too scared go in without every angle set, but that's what they don't like.

It's hard to know what to do about it. Really hard. But, I'm thinking about it and trying to figure something out.

I wanted to be lazy today.

I really, REALLY wanted to be lazy today. I won't be.

This is the only reason I will hit my run this evening. 

This and that.

I about died laughing at this post and the hashtags. You should check it out. 

Girls Wine Weekend in Dallas was a raging success. Pictures to follow - promise.

Also: I had Blue Fish (sushi joint) in Dallas for the first time. The rolls were UH-MAZE-ING. Seriously. The Sunday and Miami Vice were particularly delish. 

BUT, the Ahi Tower (something I was somewhat skeptical of based on the description) was so flipping good, holy cow, I want one now, all the noms. Whoa. 

This is what it looks like when they start (or something very similar)...

After they smoosh it together (smoosh is a very technical term). 

I wasn't sure it would be very good based on the second picture and the mediocre description. Wrong. Never been more wrong in my life, ever. It was so damn tasty. I want one right now. #getatmesushi

You'll thank me later.

It's beautiful, isn't it? You're welcome.

I don't even care that it's April. That is brilliant. I love the interwebs.

Whoa March

So, I was a bad blogger in March. I went from a whopping 20 posts in February to a measly 11 in March. Yikes.

I don't dig it.

I will say that I feel like I had some legitimate reasons. ACPA and Spring Break (which were both WONDERFUL - holy awesomeness) were each a week long and did not really include much blogging. I'm ok with this.

But, I'm back at it and not planning to let that be a trend. I'm an avid blog follower person, and I check at least 4 times a week on my favorites. I want them to be full of fresh exciting things every time (I know, I'm high maintenance), but that's only a tad hypocritical if I'm not keeping up the pace.

So, to apologize and rectify the problem, I'm sending love and awesome in the form of frilly pink dresses, super cute accents, and preciousness.

You're welcome. 

damn nature you scary

Since most of you are not from Oklahoma, I can understand why you aren't so sure about this whole weather thing here. I mean, it can't be that bad, right? 

Well, unlike hurricanes where you have a week or longer worth of notice, you might have 5 minutes of warning with tornados. I mean, it's probably a sign that there are some crazy weather happenings in the area when the NATIONAL WEATHER CENTER has their government agency located in Norman, the number one meteorology program in the country is at the University of Oklahoma, and you have to have government clearance to take the classes and be in the building permanently... You know, no big deal. 

So, when I woke up to the loudest thunderstorm with hail on Easter morning at 3:30, I was also listening for the tornado sirens. It's not quite tornado season just yet, but hail is an indicator, and there was plenty of wind and hail happening. 

I didn't take this photo, I stole it from one of the news stations. 

Luckily, I didn't hear the sirens going off and my trusty iphone confirmed that there was no active tornado watches or warnings. That said, here is a picture of my friend, Alex, and me in the back room shoe storage area at Dillard's during an active tornado warning during the spring of 2010.

We were having fun, but the people stuck with us were slightly freaked out. We got yelled at by some lady because we had some tunes working. We also were shopping around in the store room area until some guy from Dillard's cut that short. Lame.

relaxing

Today has been so nice in a totally lazy way. Holy cow, I feel like I needed it. I slept in, caught up on some stuff saved on my DVR. Then I hit the gym and grocery store. I grabbed BBQ to go for lunch, came home, hit the shower, and then I took a glorious nap.

Goodness gracious, it was excellent.

I also think I'm going through withdrawals from having Drew around. I miss him. It's nice being in the same place. That much would seem really obvious, and it is. I think what we have is worth it, but some days, like just after he's headed back to England, it's hard.

That picture is us at the dueling piano bar in Bricktown. It wasn't as good as the ones I've been to in NOLA, Austin, or Houston, but it was fun. A lot of fun. We enjoy the dueling piano bar thing so very much. It just makes me happy. 

Drew also has a hard time looking at the iPhone camera. haha. Oh the number of photos I have where he's staring off into space. 

need to get at it

Between ACPA and Drew being in town the running has fallen away a lot more than I wanted it to. This week has also been moving at about 500 miles a minute. At least it seems that way. It's just been a lot.

I did the bump up to a 5 minute run for the first time earlier this week. It was surprisingly easy for the first five minutes. I am going a lot slower than I initially was, but it's progress still. I am hoping that once I've got the distance down I can increase my speed slowly but surely as it gets easier. That's the natural progression, right?

I also am thinking about switching to running on the track every now and then. Out on the course I won't have the clock in front of me or the track of the treadmill propelling my feet behind me. I should prepare for that. The Huff, the on campus gym, has an indoor track. Maybe it's time to start transitioning to that? Oh magical interwebs, do you have an answer for me?

And I need a nap. Anyone want to work another couple of hours for me?

Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? 

Normally, I'm off at 12:30 (so, right now), but one of my coworkers had a baby last night. While that's excellent, I've picked up extra hours everyday to make up for her absence. This is good because I'll get more money, but more tiring for me too. Oh, tradeoffs.

Also, anyone want to hang out this weekend? I have no plans and would like some. Any takers?

Notice all the red?

Today, I am wearing red. Are you?

I believe, most sincerely, that everyone, ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE (with no exceptions) deserves the right to marry whom they wish regardless of sexuality or identity. Love is love is love is love. It is all equal.

Today, the issue of marriage equality goes before the Supreme Court. Today, I wear red to show my support of a cause that our children will look back at in awe and wonder why it was ever an issue for whether or not everyone was allowed to marry. Today, I want people to know exactly where I stand.

So, today I'm wearing red. Are you? 

I didn't fall off the blogging wagon....

Not that anyone noticed I was gone, haha. I have two totally awesome followers who I think are great. That's the grand total of my readership though. That's ok by me, maybe one day there will be more. But, that's not the point. The point is that I did not forget about the lucky two. I have a good reason for why I was MIA.

Drew came to visit for Spring Break! 

It was great fun. We really spent most of the time keeping it low key. It was wonderful. With how crazy my life has been for the past several weeks, it was actually perfect not to have a million things going on. 

We went to two OU baseball games, made a trip to Lawton, OK to work on a project for my Lean/Six Sigma greenbelt certification (what fun), went to a dueling piano bar in Bricktown, and just chilled. It was excellent.  

I am a lucky girl :). 

it hurts so bad sometimes

My sister just told me that right after I left for college my brother used to tell her that she needed to make sure she went to the gym so she didn't end up like Mallory. By like Mallory he meant fat. Kirby was a pudgy little kid. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't skinny. Puberty, sweat, and pressure from a lot of people did what most of us would call wonderful things to her body. I think she's stunning. I also know that while I'm biased on that, it's also the absolute truth. She worked hard and the extra inches she gained in the height department I'm consistently jealous of worked WONDERS. Kirby is beautiful on the inside and the outside.

I find it ironic that I'm crying as I write this post considering how I celebrated a small accomplishment diametrically opposed to this conversation in my post yesterday. I also find it especially heartbreaking and hurtful considering that after Michael came back from his awful study abroad experience in China with an extra fifty-ish pounds packed on his body, I was the one to defend him to a lot of people. I've spent years on the receiving end of those god-awful comments. I would not wish that experience on anyone, including my (occasional) jerk of a brother, and yet that is clearly not a two way street.

I know I'm not perfect, but I am a good person. I work hard, love big, am loyal to a fault, and so sincerely enjoy being my friends' biggest cheerleader, but I'm the person my own sister is warned away from being similar to. I am the person she needed to watch herself around so she didn't end up like me.

You know, because what I've got is contagious. And, because we all know that being a fat person is clearly a worse fate than being a bad person. Clearly.

And the people who know me wonder why I'm in therapy...? Some days are good days, and some days just really suck.

thumbs up

I hit the 230s. I didn't hit 230, but the first two numbers of my current weight are 2 and 3, in that order. I know that for a lot of people out there, you might be thinking, "Dang, that's something blog worthy?", but, for me, this is absolutely blog worthy. I'm a girl who definitely hit a whopping 302 towards the end of my senior year of college. I'm not busting out the happy dance at the 230s, but I am going to give myself a thumbs up and a nod.

or I'll let Taylor give me a thumbs up and a nodd. whatever. 

Random thought: why do we call it thumbs up even if it's only one thumb. That gif isn't TSwift giving me a thumb (singular) up - even though she totally is. 

Ok, back to why I'm posting, this is cool. I had a really long plateau, think 8 weeks long, of being in the 240s. I started running and still was not losing ANY weight... what the heck? I couldn't tell ya.

Regardless, I don't remember the last time I weighed in the 230s and this is coming off of Vegas and rich food, people. It could have been the end of high school... maybe? When you spend a lot of time feeling ashamed of your weight, and believe me, I totally have spent a TON of time being ashamed, you try to avoid the scale like it will give you leprosy forget the numbers on the scale ASAP. It doesn't feel good to look at a number that society tells you that you should be ashamed of, and I think that's probably putting it lightly when I'm totally honest. 

So, when I stepped on the scale this morning before work, saw 239.4; I did a double take, and smiled when the number stuck. It's not perfect, skinny, or even remotely in the normal/healthy range by any means, but it's a process. I'm taking steps to be where I'd like to be. I'm not there yet, but I'm closer than I was yesterday. And I get to give myself a thumbs up for that. 

High five to all the other ladies who have been here, who have struggled, and made it through. And to all the other chicas who are stuck, want to change, but are overwhelmed at where to begin or how daunting a task it seems to be, I feel you. I know where you are. You aren't invisible. I support your choice to stay exactly as you are or to make changes. You get to decide, and I support you either way. 

exhausted much?

So, I slept for 18 hours yesterday. Um, what? 

Apparently, Vegas, all the excitement of ACPA, coming home to finish my Greenbelt class (not the project - that's just starting), knowing I have an exam to cram for on Monday, and everything else going on since the start of February sent my body into crash mode.

I don't think I've ever slept so long in my entire life. My mother would be ashamed. She used to tell us naps meant we were being lazy. I have worked hard to rewire that notion. Sometimes, they are just necessary and that's ok.

After my greenbelt (LEAN/Six Sigma) class in the morning and lunch/work time with my group to get the project rolling, I went home for what I intended to be a brief nap followed by time at the library to study for my Adult Learner test. That was about 2:30. I woke up at 8:30, looked at the clock and said, "Nope, no studying today." I used the restroom, crawled back into bed and went back to sleep. I woke up again around 1:30 for another bathroom break, then I went back to bed until about 7:30 this morning.

I was tired. 

And for the first time in weeks, I woke up totally rested rather than dragging as if I hadn't slept. 

It was glorious and necessary, that much is obvious. At least to me it was based on the fact that my body allowed me to sleep for that long. Even when I stayed up for 48 hours straight on one of the trips from England (stayed up all night to try and make me sleep on the plane - it didn't work), I didn't sleep more than 10 hours. Now, I'm at the library studying for my test tomorrow. I'm pretty nervous about it because I really do not know what to expect. That said, I'll probably be here for another six or seven hours to get that figured out. I got here at noon (when it opened) and expect to be here until 10 or 11. Maybe later. They close at 2 on regular (non-finals week) Sundays. 

I promise to make a post or two about the awesome that was ACPA. I just figured a bit of a study break  was necessary as well as a longer post since ACPA kind of threw all that off. 

It's good to be back, I think :). 

Viva Las Vegas

So excited! ACPA today. I have to get through a 9 hour workshop and flight first, but then it's Vegas time.

You should be jealous. I would be. Promise to keep everyone updated on the awesome

a not so small life problem

Ever have one of those days where the things that happen are clearly hilarious as long as it's not happening to you? Yeah, me too. 

So, I have, um, a rather large chest. I've been busty since I was 15 or so. They magically appeared. This was something of a surprise to me. My mom is not chesty in the slightest. Far from it. She's actually very petite on her upper body in general. She is your classic pear shape. I understand that your chest size is supposedly tied to your dad's mom's chest. I have not stared down either of my grandmothers' chests and have no intention of changing that any time soon. I just know that I have more than enough love to go around in that department. 

Considering that I'm still significantly over weight, this isn't a surprising fact. I look pretty proportionate in regular clothes. If I wear anything remotely low cut, I look RIDICULOUS. I'm talking boobs for days, people. I wore square necked shirt on my 24th birthday to go out with friends to celebrate. My mom told me I looked that a tramp right before I left the house in front of a few of my friends. It was encouraging, as I'm sure you can imagine. It's also the first time my parents have ever referred to me as anything remotely like that considering I dress pretty modestly in general. This is also funny because my mom was a total sorostitute and my dad a fratdaddy. My sister isn't overly modest, and they certainly have NO issues with that. I just don't often show them off. It can be a lot. 

I have to be careful when taking pictures because otherwise all you see is my massive chest. 

These are two examples of what I'm talking about...

This has been part of my life for ten years, so it's nothing new or surprising. Things hit an all-time level of WTF in the past few weeks though while performing a certain activity - you guessed it, running. Now, good bras are an absolute where I am concerned. There is no avoiding the necessity and sports bras are no exception. I'm ok with that. I also anticipate some movement when working out. Unless I'm holding on to them, I can't help it.   I have consistently had no issues on the elliptical with these sports bras. So, I wasn't concerned when I bumped up to running on the treadmill. Epic Fail.

Apparently, my older sports bras were just worn out because I came ALL THE WAY out of the top of a couple of them. As in, out of the neckline of my sports bra, moving up and down with a higher vertical jump than I have in real life, almost hit me on the chin while I was running at the gym, all the way out of my sports bra. This has happened three times with three different bras of varying ages. 

You may be wondering how it's humanly possible not to notice your boobs coming out the top of your bra... I didn't feel the bra sliding down or anything. I don't know why, but I just didn't.  I did, however, noticed more movement that norman and looked down. That's when I almost was hit in the face. I realized what happened at that point, but I was mid run, so I didn't think I could do anything about it without slowing to a walk. I tucked my arms against my chest, finished out my last 30 seconds, slowed to my walk and then tried to inconspicuously pull my bra back in place (the gym was packed and I felt sooooo awkward). 

I then texted my mom and sister, laughed at myself and my awkward boobs, and then finished my workout with at least one arm trying to keep them somewhat still. Hah. What can I say, such is life. I suppose that I should just keep a smile on my face and be excited about the brand new sports bras I got to go buy :). 

Can anyone else relate? Anyone else have an equally awkward moment?