A quote worth considering

"Our real blessings often appear to us in the shape of pains, losses, and disappointments, but let us have patience and we shall soon see them in their proper figures."
--Joseph Addison

I was going to write some awesomely lofty blog post about how I have tried really hard to see pain as a blessing.

But the truth is, I rarely do. I am the Queen of Doom and Gloom. When things are going even the tiniest bit wrong, I freak out and adopt this annoying sky-is-falling attitude. And only later, in the safety of a storm that has just passed, do I see the lessons embedded in the tumult.

So in the interest of keeping it real, I'm not going to editorialize more than I already have. I'm just going to leave this simple thought for you to consider.

Perfect fifths by Megan McCafferty: a review in verse

Marcus Flutie's Lloyd
Dobbler-esque charm is
Not enough, sadly.

Which is not to say
that I didn't enjoy his turn
at speaking his peace.

But that stories left
untold are often the best
gift an author gives.

A tale of two novels

I was sick over the weekend, so I had the rare opportunity to just read. Though both books I finished were the second book in a series, they couldn't have been more different.

Knit Two, the second in Kate Jacobs' Friday Night Knitting Club series, was heavy and slow moving. Jacobs spends a good part of the novel reminding us about the characters in the Club. This choice seemed puzzling to me as I'm not sure that Knit Two could stand on its own. The characters seemed stiffer than in Friday Night Knitting Club. It was as if Jacobs was conscious of her writing process in order to have another blockbuster. The novel found its stride midway through, but by then I was only reading out of obligation to the characters I loved so much from Jacobs' first novel.

Living Dead in Dallas, the second of Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse novels, was light and whimsical while also being otherworldly. I liked, but didn't love, Harris' first Stackhouse novel, but I know a lot of people who dig them. LDiD was fast-moving and fun. Harris doesn't spend a lot of time reminding readers about what they already know. Instead, she relies on the reader to remember characters and realtionships. I think that makes it easy to either read the Stackhouse novels as a series or pick up any individual title. Sookie is likeable--spunky and funny in a way that she wasn't in Dead Until Dark, the first book. It feels like Harris made strides as a novelist between the two books and Sookie is well-served by her creator's newfound comfort. A quick read, I read LDiD in about 3 hours.

In short, skip Knit Two but pick up Living Dead in Dallas.

I'm picking up Perfect Fifths from the library tonight. I am equal parts excited and terrified. I really hope this is the last Marcus Flutie/Jessica Darling book. For reals.

Mrs. Dude and the shame-induced pity party

I've been having a rough week. The "exercise and eating well" wagon are nowhere to be seen and I'm laying in the dust having a big, fat pity party.


So you know where I'm coming from, I've been on South Beach Diet (from this point forward referred to as "SBD") since September. Between following a regimented eating plan and exercising, I've lost 26 pounds.

But the past few weeks have seen me heading down a path where I'm just not sticking to my eating or my exercise. I've excused away some pretty half-hearted workouts and some off-plan snacks.

I'm at this weird place right now where I'm just ready to be done with it. Not to be at my goal weight, but ready to quit. Ready to stop watching what I eat and to stop going to the gym.

I feel really unmotivated. I know that if I want to succeed, my choice to follow SBD can't be a "diet," even though its name has the word "Diet" in its name. I have to be willing to accept that my choice is one to change my lifestyle and to agree to respect myself enough to stop putting crap in my body.

While were here, I also know that an active lifestyle won't stop for me when I reach a magic number. I fell in love with running. Yeah, it's hard, but it makes me feel good and strong and powerful.

So what's the deal?

I know it's probably all of the junk I've been eating over the past few days talking, but I just want to lay on my couch, eat cupcakes, and watch the newest 'Real World/Road Rules' challenge until my brain melts.

I was trying to hold all of these icky feelings inside. I was pretending that everything was okay while trying to convince myself that I could force myself back on track.

You ever have that moment? You know, the one where you just know you can will yourself to get your act together while, at the same pretending like you never had a moment while you're act wasn't together?

It's exhausting. And the shame of not having it all together and wanting to quit was weighing me down.


Why aren't I good enough to stick with it? What's wrong with me that I'm so weak?


The shame of not being perfect had me in its grips.

I was better, more together, more dedicated I could stick with it. I wanted this bad enough I wouldn't feel so frustrated.

You ever been there?

I decided enough is enough. I was done wallowing in my shame. I told a few of my friends how frustrated I am, and verbalizing that frustration robbed shame of its power over me.

My friends gave me the good advice and accountability I needed. Just saying the words, 'this is really frustrating' felt empowering. Acknowledging that I am nowhere near perfect and that shame was keeping me from doing what I knew what right meant more to me than any run or day of healthy eating ever could.

The "exercise and eating well" wagon is still out-of-sight, but I've picked myself off the ground.

The first step is throwing out all of the leftover junk that has creeped into my house. The second is making some good-for-me food. The third step is getting back into the gym by the week's end. I will run at least a mile--not because I have to do it, but because it brings me joy.

Mrs. Dude speaks seriously, but not smugly, about money

I was listening to someone interview Rachel Naomi Remen about the 'current economic crisis' when she said the most amazing thing:

"Money is the densest form of human energy."

I have heard Dr. Remen interviewed before, and found her to be unbelievably wise in the simple, straightforward way that wise people often are. Yet, I was taken aback by this simple, yet powerful, observation.

Money isn't just paper, she asserts, it's the physical embodiment of the work we have done in the world. And how we spend that money is a direct reflection of who we are as people--what we value, what we fear, who we are.

Later in the interview she says:
"If you want to find out who a person is (and you might be surprised at what you find out), follow them around and watch them spend their money."

I don't think it's news to anyone that as consumers we "vote with your pocketbook." That we, as people who believe things, owe it to ourselves to be educated about the places we most often spend our money. I think that's something that people have been concerned with since long before the 'economic downturn.'

What was, however, new to me was the idea that we tell our stories in how we spend our money. What are you most afraid of? What do you value? Who are you?

And how do the latte or new shoes you just bought reflect your story?

As right as Remen is, I don't think I would want people following me around and determining who I am based on the things I buy. I fear that I would be seen as shallow and self-absorbed, concerned only with how I appeared to people.

So how do we align our values and our spending? I think it requires hard work and some tough self-evaluation. And I think it demands that we tell our spoiled, petulant inner children "no" once in a while.

Let me tell you a story...

I used to spend a lot of money on books. I would go to a bookstore and spend a long time picking out a stack of books to take home with me. More often than not, most of the books in the stack never got read. The fun was in acquiring the books, though not necessarily in reading them.

If I think about what matters to me, acquiring books would make sense, right? I love to read.

I think that's a perfect valid and valuable way to look at it, especially if I read everything I bought before buying more books.

I came to the conclusion, though, that what I was really saying was that I valued amassing things. That I wanted to insulate myself from the world with good books. That I wanted to be able to say about the newest literary masterpiece, "oh, right, I picked that up but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet."

I decided in early January that I wasn't going to buy any new books unless I absolutely couldn't avoid it. If I wanted to read something, I thought, I'll go to the library.

It was the hardest thing I've ever done. For reals.

But, it's now April. And I have purchased just one book.

The point is that making "good" decisions about how to direct our money is hard. These hard economic times have made it necessary, but what happens if things get better? Will we go back to our 'old' ways of gluttonous consumption?

There are a lot of places where I still need to continue to 'take stock': My dining out habits, the number of cable channels we subscribe to, the magazines I get every month but never read. So please don't see this as smug virtue. It's not.

I just wanted to take a second to think about what Remen has to say. And to challenge you to think about how the direction of your money aligns itself with your story.

In which we discuss 'For the Love of Ray J,' Tom Green, and Warren G.

Last night I was watching this week's episode of 'For the Love of Ray J.'

This might be a good time to tell you that I'm a sucker for almost any VH1 reality show.

I'm not proud of that. But true is true, my friends.

I like Ray J. Okay, yeah, he's the Kim-Kardashian-sex-tape guy, but everyone makes youthful mistakes, right? I want him to find love. And, since this week was "meet the folks" week, so do Ray's friends, family, and entourage.

Anyway, after Ray J. introduces the moneygrubbing whores, er contestants, to his grandma, Ray J. takes them to meet his entourage. Or, as he calls them, his "homies."

As an aside, it was funny to see how quickly the ladies put some clothes on when it was time to meet grandma. I think they had more clothes on at lunch than they'd worn during the rest of the show.

It was as if they thought that Grammy Norwood was actually judging whether or not they would make good wives for her grandson. After lunch, though, she proved to be no help at all when she basically said that Ray J would have to make his own choice.

I suspect if Slutty, Crazy, and Manipulative had known Grammy wasn't paying any attention them, they wouldn't have wasted the time covering up.

Or, in Manipulative's case, putting a bra on.

As another aside, why doesn't Manipulative wear a bra? Doesn't that wear on her back?

Okay...back to the entourage. And the meat of this rambling, rambling post.

Apparently Ray J. counts both Warren G. and Tom Green as members of his Inner Circle.

Take that in for a minute.

Warren G. and Tom Green.

What in the world could the three of them possibly have in common? Can you even imagine how hilarious it is when they all hang out?

I feel like VH1 missed an excellent opportunity when it chose to give Ray J. a Rock of Love/Flavor of Love-style dating show.

Someone was clearly dozing off during that pitch meeting.

Because, honestly, wouldn't you rather see a show where Warren G., Tom Green, and Ray J. have awesome adventures together?

One episode they could go out to lunch and the next they could, I don't know, go sky diving or something.

I feel like someone at VH1 missed something here...