I can see the gym from my desk

I work right across the street from LA Fitness on 55th Ave. & Bell. I sit in a lovely office facing a large window with a Bell Rd. vista.  I have been going to the gym for a couple of months, but only within the last couple weeks have been really getting into it.  I'm losing inches, gaining muscle, yeah yeah yeah... I have stopped concentrating on that.  I had a moment on an excersize bike that changed it all.  I have heard of people being addicted to spin classes before and thought they were just assholes, but now I think I see the appeal.

I wasn't in a class, mind you, but I was on a bike, watching television on mute because I forgot my headphones.  At about 7 minutes in, I got this rush of euphoria and motivation to push it a little and peddle faster. Increase the resistance, increase my heart rate. I've been excited for cardio ever since then, and my energy level has risen. I feel so much in control, and I love that.

I used to have a friend growing up named Jenny.  I used to tease her because she was my size, but dressed too old. Her pants could've been from the jr. section, but they were from misses. She could've straightened her hair, and put makeup on (she had a very pretty face), but she didn't.  Her ideas were never fun, and her life was too practical.  She was a good confidante and friend while it lasted, but I always remember wishing she would just get with the program.  I have seen my own reflection lately and don't recognize myself from Jenny.  Goodness, my hair is even identical to hers - a natural wavy, wash and wear, bob.  Just presentable enough to get by.  I am letting it grow, but I'm coming to terms with the fact that I let myself go a LONG time ago.  This is so much more than a physical thing. I've bought clothes, styled my hair, and worked out plenty in the past few years. This is so much more than a makeover issue.  I stopped caring a long time ago whether I was pretty for myself, whether I was expressing myself through my appearance, and what that even means.  I am the pearl of great price, and I know my Lord created something that is dear to him. So I know my beauty comes from within, I've got that part down pat. I forgot how to have fun with being a beautiful woman. 

I lost control of myself in more than one way.  I felt like I got some of that back with pushing my body to do what it hates, cardio.  We are all in a constant struggle against our body, which is subject to worldly principles. When we reference creation, we assume that our present state (illness, obesity, etc.) is rolled into the intended product. Our souls are subject to the kingdom, and being fearfully and wonderfully made, we have the ability to make our bodies reflect all of our God given radiance.

I do desire to see change on the outside.  But I won't focus on that. Instead, I'll concentrate on getting back what I've lost from within. My desires and dreams for confidence, artistic expression, and satisfaction in the small efforts to fix up more often. Beauty will follow. Besides, I can see the gym from my desk.

Can't Sleep Tonight

It's 10:40pm.

It's not terribly late, but Randy's already peacefully asleep, and I'm online having already checked my facebook, bank account, email, and news. Nothing noteworthy on either account.

I had a great weekend.  I went shopping, started the baby blanket for Kenner's baby Lillian, ate Chinese food, and didn't do shit around the house. By all definitions of the term, I am super HAPPY.

So, why is it that I let the one shitty thing that happened this weekend weigh on me?  I'm furious at my cousin Shanna (again), but I am also so sad for her.  This story isn't new to anyone keeping up.  I show up at family gathering,  Shanna gets trashed, Shanna spouts something out of line. I've heard that Psych majors are really just crazy losers, married people are just crazy losers (with no goals), people who went to ASU are just crazy losers.... See a theme?  Anything I associate and/or identify with makes me suck by virtue of the fact that Shanna has nothing to do with it.  I don't mean to gloss over the hatred she emits, but I need to make clear that she's really mean without sounding whiny. I hope you understand.

I was having a chat with my cousin Jackie, a nice lady who had real, actual concern for my recent miscarriage, who had a couple of questions which I was well enough to answer candidly.  Questions having to do with the specifics of my pregnancy and the timeline, symptoms, etc. of said miscarriage.  Shanna teetered over, as we were standing near the restroom, Shanna's ultimate destination.  Obviously knowing the situation, and overhearing the conversation, she came up to me and gave me a hug. I'll paraphrase: 

I'm so sorry Jess.  I don't know anything about what you are going through, because I have never had any problems getting pregnant.  I mean, I can get pregnant like *this (finger snap).  I mean, I get pregnant so easily that it's ridiculous.  I do wish I had your boobs though.  (pushing her boobs against mine, classy) We could switch so you could get pregnant and I could have your boobs. (Shanna, you can buy boobs easier than I can buy a baby) Well, I'll just make a baby and sell it to you then... blah blah blah I'm a drunk whore...

Jackie got in her face and let her know it was inappropriate to rub my face in it, and Shanna scurried off decided it was time to leave.

For one, Shanna has just one kid.  So where are all these easy pregnancies she's bragging about? Probably equally easy abortions if I had to guess.  I really wonder if she remembers the things she says the next day.  When she wakes up alone, does she remember talking down to people?  When she is bored because she has no real friends, does she sit and think up reasons why she's better than me?

 I can't say I'm all that attractive or fashionable.  I haven't fit into a size 2 since before puberty. I have acne and am bat shit blind.  I can't hear out of one ear and I have circus freak show 46DDD boobs. I have fat feet that don't fit into cute shoes, and an unruly head of hair. There are so many things about me that are undesirable and awkward.

Beyond all that, I'm loved by an amazing man, I have more real friends than pairs of shoes, I live a life with a kingdom purpose, and I am one of the nicest people anyone will ever meet.  Why am I sad tonight?  Shanna can't say anything I just did.  She's stuck on a loop, thinking she should be happy by now with the VIP designer life that's been handed to her on a silver platter. I'm glad at least she knows Jesus.  I hope she realizes one day He's the only one that can give her life meaning.  When she is ready, I will be there as a friend.

Until then, I avoid that bitch when all possible.

Good night!