You know you're low when you look up to a sponge!

I've been wondering where all my gumption went.

I came home from work today and slept two hours. I fixed a bizarre dinner (Mexican, Italian gumbo over rice or noodles--your choice) and I told my family I'd lost my gumption.

My kids immediately asked, "What's gumption?" Well my husband, my 15 year old daughter and I started coming up with words, "verve." That really didn't help and my husband said, "vigor and vim." They still didn't get it.

I tried to think how to best describe gumption and the picture that came to mind was Sponge Bob. He is the definition of gumption. I want to be more like Sponge Bob. He enthusiastically attacks life. He is kind (if misguided), helpful (no one's a better friend or employee) and he is open to new opportunities. Yes, I want to be Sponge Bob.

This Man is In My Head

I've had a guilty pleasure since my birthday in February. I received several gift cards to Barnes and Noble, since reading is my main vice at the moment. (It is truly a vice now--I just slipped my cravings for sugar and TV into cravings for mass market novels--with a few literary treasures sprinkled in.)

So, I went through Barnes and Noble. I found a couple of really good books on Islam. I finally bought a translation of the Hadith because I want to see how the Qu'ran and Muhammad's life are interpreted. See how deep I am! Then I bought a couple of semi-trashy novels (YUM). I also bought the memoir by Terrell Dougan, That Went Well: Adventures in Caring for My Sister (Very good and once again proving I have some sort of mind). I then bought some great YA--City of Ember and The People of Sparks by Jeanne DuPrau (which I LOVED).

This is all a lead up to the culmination of my shopping spree (or rather is it an attempt to cover up my utter insanity). As I'm in line to check out I glanced innocently to my right. I knew I would have about $10 dollars left over and I spied I Can Make You Thin, by Paul McKenna--with a guided hypnosis CD. I was intrigued, the jacket said he is the "English Dr. Phil," what more could I want. I thought "I dare you to make me thin" and picked it up. It was on sale for $10--IT WAS MEANT TO BE!

The next day after work --and more importantly, before my husband got home and committed me to an asylum. I surreptitiously slipped the CD into my CD player and pressed play. As it began I made myself comfortable and from the moment I heard "If your listening in stereo these words should be coming from the right hand side" I was hooked--in love--relaxing to his English accent! I started counting backwards from 300 and the next thing I knew he said, "3, 2, 1 wake up" Oh my heck I'm awoke and felt grand.

I honestly don't know what he says for that 20 minutes or so, each night I hear something a little different before I enter lala land. He could be making me a mass-murderer, but I don't seem to care. It is so dang relaxing.

Something is happening though--I find myself thinking, "I have a body full of life," "I am vibrant," "I don't need to eat that--I'm not hungry." Seriously--completely new thoughts. So I listen to him about every night before bed. It might be the most satisfying relationship I've ever had.

Who is that person? Part II

If it isn't already evident I'm dealing with a mild case of the winter blues in MARCH! I thought I'd gotten through the whole winter without a major descent, but then again it didn't stop snowing when winter ended. My experience with Seasonal Affective Disorder ("SAD"--isn't that just the cutest acronym) is a pulling in the center of my chest that makes me feel both tired and a bit sad. It's not too bad this year--definitely more a case of ennui. That's a more romantic way of saying, "I'm a little sad and don't know why."

Anyway, I'm pretty sure my ennui lead to the question I posed yesterday--Would the old me be disappointed in the new me. I've thought about it all day. I still come up with probably and I have an example.

When I was 18 I was with a good friend and we went to his sister's house to help her move in. They'd bought a house of someone I knew. Someone a little famous in our small community so I was very interested in seeing the house.

We were given the job of cleaning out the fridge. We did a bang up job. We pulled out all the drawers and shelves and really put some elbow grease into it. I remember thinking it was really dirty. There was old pickle juice under the drawers, some mildew in back and it grossed me out. I'm embarrassed by it now, but I complained about how bad I thought it was and finally my friend's sister said, "I think (fill in the blank with any semi-famous good person's name here) had more important things to do than clean her fridge."

I was taken aback. It seemed to me as if having some mold in the back of a refrigerator was a sign of bad character. This morning I took a good hard look at my fridge. I have really bad character. I hope in heaven we have better judges of character than 18 year old girls.

Who is that person?

I feel like I've been a thousand different people. I look at pictures of myself even just a year or two ago (or 22 years ago) and hardly recognize myself. I laugh at how impatient I was. I've always been a rushing towards the future kind of gal. I wonder if my twenty year old self saw me now would she be disappointed? Probably.

I unfairly expected so much from myself and from others. Now I'm really happy to get through the basics of my day. I don't have time or actually I don't have the energy to worry about what others are doing or saying. I look at people that in my younger years I would have thought of as failures and wonder at their staying power, at their ability to try to overcome really difficult problems. Success to me now is not something that is necessarily achieved but the effort of trying to be a little bit better everyday.

Sometimes waking and getting dressed is success. Today I made my bed, washed out the dog kennel, did a few loads of laundry, went to the grocery story and delivered several kids several places while also managing to take a bath! I won't list the things that didn't get done--that's just defeatist. I still deserve an ovation--and so do you.

March Madness - Resolution Review

March will not go down in history of one of my best months in this resolution cycle. I find the ways I've cheated to be both dissatisfying and disappointing. I didn't cheat grandly--which is at least fun. I've just cheated here and there with things that are not even worth discussing. Which is why I am going to discuss it in detail now.

First here are the foods that save me:





Wendy's Chicken Grill - Without sauce is under 4 g of fat





Snyder's Honey Wheat Pretzels







"The Store" Salsa--YUM

Now for the problems--Peanut M&M's at work. I was just eating one a day--today was bad and I had a couple of handfuls! Then just eating bits and pieces of food that don't fit the rules I've made. If I'm going to cheat I should just sit down and make a meal of it!

So the weight loss has stalled. I haven't gained any back, but I'm not losing and that just gets discouraging.

Then I'm having a hard time with TV. I cannot seem to fold laundry without watching, but then it's so easy to just keep watching even after I'm finished! I ended up watching America's Next Top Model two weeks in a row. That is the high calorie, hardly filling, food of television and definitely leaves me wanting to take a shower!

So it's back to basics baby!

The Magic of Blue Sky & Green Leaves

I'm still on the magic kick. I probably will be all year. I love blue and green in the form of leaves and sky. If I want to relax all I have to do is lay on the grass under a tree and look at the sky through the leaves.

Imagine a soft wind and you on the warm grass gazing through the trembling canopy of leaves. The gentle rustling, light reflecting off the glossy leaves ever changing like fire.

Man, I have such terrible spring fever.


Enjoy these fine examples of the magic of summer.

Ramblin' Edo

Oh to be a long-haul trucker.

I love to drive! I have driving fantasies. I know when I'm much too stressed because I start dwelling on driving away. The where doesn't so much matter as the how--the car. For a long time it centered on Portland, Oregon where my husband went to school and we lived for those first few years of marriage. Now, it could be anywhere.

For the last couple of years I've made a loop from SLC to Jackson Hole, past the Grand Tetons, through Yellowstone and then down through Bear Lake back to SLC. It takes about 17 hours. It is total beauty overload. I've done it alone, which I'm not sure is wise, but it sure is a way to get time to think.

I also really like the drive through Montana up through Glacier National Park into Waterton Canada. Montana really does have "Big Sky" and the Rockies are austere and threatening and inspiring.

I drive pretty much the whole time on family vacations. I feel like I'm the one making all that scenery happen--the magical tour director. When we make a road trip I feel as if the car is the machine that somehow causes the transformation from familiar to fantastic. Planes are too fast and disorienting. Although I don't love the family road trip that lasts longer than 12 hours!

If you don't already think I am mentally unstable here comes the kicker. Disclaimer: I am happily married and I love my family. My love of driving goes hand in hand with leavin' songs. Those are my favorite types of song in the Blues and Country genres and the tackier the better. I love "I'm leaving on a Jet Plane," "Wichita Lineman" (Which is really a song about a rambling electrician--a RAMBLING ELECTRICIAN), "Ramblin' Man," "Me & Bobby McGee" (Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose) & "He Thinks He'll Keep Her." These songs are so deliciously selfish--something I don't even let myself think about--they do.

So don't worry--I'm not going anywhere--at least not for long.