The Good...the Bad...the Ugly. Farm Funnies!

So I'm going to fast forward to where we are now in our lives after the fire. I do want to make one thing clear...how we got here was not easy. The first couple months after the fire when my mom was still here helping out, things were okay. But when she left to go back to California, James and I fell apart a little. There were SOOO many nights of fights, tears, angry words, threats to leave (by me). We were a mess. Or at least I thought we were. I felt we were. We were definitely growing apart in some ways. When I would read posts from readers/friends who said things like, "I love how positive you are being," or "You and James are handling this great," I would feel like a fraud...mainly because a lot of times we WEREN'T handling it great.

But we got through it. LOL. Thank God for Gentleman Jack! HEHE

SOOOO...we finally found a place to live! It's a country home on five acres. This is what I call a "James home" kind of place. I loved my town living in my 120-year-old Victorian. James really didn't like it. This place is allll him! LOL. The "barn" is bigger than our house!!! And I'm not EVEN joking! But there's land for James to grow things (which he's always wanted to do), and there's a small pond that has fish in it (which James loves to fly fish). So this will be a great place to stay for a few years.

FARM LIVING!! OMG!! LOL. Let me first just say WHAT IS UP WITH ALL THESE BUGS!!! Now James and Maddy have been way better about this new lifestyle. They're all acting cool with these bugs and spiders, giving me information, "That's an assassin bug. It's good for gardens. But be careful, they will hurt if they get you." Um...we don't have a damn garden! Why do I have to befriend this thing!??!!

So, the other day James is mowing, and y'all know that spiders are considered friends in this family...Maddy has a pet tarantula. That's why telling this story will bring me such joy!! Anyway, James is mowing the lawn and suddenly there is a "man scream" heard miles around. This is James's version: It seems when James got off the lawn mower to move something, a HUGE HAIRLESS spider the size of his head came FLYING out of nowhere and attacked him!!! LOL. When he told the story I couldn't help laugh. I'm like, "Maddy has a tarantula. Since when have you been scared of spiders?" He's like, "Jenna, it was HAIRLESS!!!" LOL. Oh, okay.

Fast forward to today. I'm driving Maddy back home from school and I stop to get the mail. NOTE TO SELF: NEVER JUST GRAB MAIL AND GO!! So I pull out the mail and fling it in the car, and a HUGE spider slides down my Food & Wine magazine. I'm FREAKING OUT! Screaming and instinctively flinging it away...RIGHT ONTO MADDY!! LOL. She's SCREAMING at me, SCREAMING in general, trying to get out of the car, but she's still seatbelted in. The spider has dropped in between the seats, we are still screaming, Maddy has now jumped out of the car...and there's James, standing there shaking his head while Maddy is running from the car and tattling on me that I THREW a spider on her! LOL.

But turn about is fair play. She may have tattled on me...but I got the last laugh. When I went to pick her up from play practice tonight I said, "Hey Maddy, just so you know...I never found the spider!" HEHEHEHEHE......

Experiencing a Flash Fire

After fire!

Day I moved in. Not a full view of library.

 

In the early morning hours of February 25--3:04 to be exact--my life as I knew it was forever changed. As most of you know, I have a pretty strict writing schedule that I keep. I work for my school district during the day, and then when I come home I make/order dinner, take my shower, and then go upstairs to write--okay, really I'll look at Facebook first--but then I'll write for a little while. I try to be in bed around 8:30. Then I wake up around 2:00 and write until time for school. On the weekends, it's a free for all. I still try and keep my middle-of-the night hours so my body is used to being up and writing, I just have more time during the day to write. James has always been very cool about me being upstairs in my writing room while he stays downstairs and gives me space.

On that Saturday evening, February 24, I had JUST finished final edits of book 2 in my Sullivan Sisters series. It was later than I had planned--around nine or nine-thirty I believe. I sent James a text at 9:36 telling him I'd finished my edits (he was downstairs) but that I still needed to go on Facebook and see what was going on with the world (haha). By the time I finished scrolling Facebook, it was around eleven. I wrestled with whether or not to pull up book 3 in the Sullivan Sisters series (I am 30,000 words in) and start writing, or just sleep for a few hours and start fresh in the morning. Since it was so late and I had been writing all day--except for the hour I came downstairs to cook baked chicken and eat with James and Maddy--I opted for a little sleep. I like to listen to already-heard audiobooks on low while I sleep, so I pulled up a Jana DeLeon book, and settled in for the night.

This next part is how I remember it....

At three o'clock I sit bolt upright in bed because I heard James SCREAM my name in his "get-your-butt-down-the-stairs-NOW" Marine voice. I threw back the covers and stood up...and IMMEDIATELY smelled the smoke. Only it wasn't like a bonfire smoke, it smelled more like to me when you leave pans in the oven or maybe there's still residual from the chemicals when you clean the oven. It just smelled harsh. I ran down the stairs and he yelled for me to call 911, the furnace in the basement was on fire. Now, I make it sound like James is being harsh (I've always said he's good under pressure) because the next part gets crazy. So I ran as fast as I can back UP the stairs because I left my phone up there. Not very smart, but I was panicked. I grab my phone and start to hit 911...only I get to the 9 and I'm at the top of the stairs and I start to REALLY listen to James. As he's yelling for Maddy (my step-daughter who has a bedroom on the other side of the house), his voice has changed. He's more panicked. He's now shouting, "Oh my God, Oh my God!" And at that moment at the top of the stairs, listening to his voice, I thought he was yelling that because something had happened to Maddy. Like he couldn't rouse her because of smoke or something. I instantly dropped...my knees buckled and I slid down the stairs. The whole time I'm sliding I'm thinking, "What are we going to do if something has happened to Maddy? James will die!" I stand up when I near the bottom of the first landing (I'd regained my footing) and I turn to go down the last set of steps. I take a deep breath and the pain from that breath was excruciating! It hurt my whole body. I'm vaguely aware of the fire alarm in my left ear, and I'm vaguely aware of Maddy standing by the front door. Luckily the stairs off the library are only like eight feet or so from the front door. We all run outside, James carrying Brownie our dog, and I'm finally dialing 911. That was at 3:04.

Now, this next part is honestly a blur, because it's how I THINK it happened, but I've spoken with my neighbor and even she's not sure exactly what SHE did, and James has a little bit different idea of what happened...

I remember hearing James yelling from inside the house he didn't know where the fire extinguisher was. I remember SCREAMING my neighbor's name (she's honestly usually awake at odd times, too) and I ran to her house yelling for a fire extinguisher. James couldn't find the one we usually kept under the sink. I thought she handed me one...she thinks she carried two over...I honestly have no idea! I was almost positive I cradled a fire extinguisher in my arms. But I don't know how that fits in the timeline of the fire department arriving in that three minute span (they arrived at 3:07 according to the fire chief) because the next thing I remember, the firemen are at my house. I remember seeing James running around the back of the house and yelling. He later told me that he was trying to get the firemen down to the basement--you have to go outside to get to our basement because it's like a half basement with a crawlspace. The neighbor on the other side of me later confessed to hearing me screaming because she, too, had been up—we’re obviously a neighborhood of insomniacs. She said she felt so helpless listening to me screaming, but she has two kids under the age of three and her husband is deployed. There was nothing she could do but watch from the window.

I remember calling my mom on my cell phone and crying because I was standing on my lawn, looking inside my big 120-year-old picture window with original beveled glass at the top, and even though it's pitch black outside, I'm aware of flames coming out of the floor eating my library. James believes that was just my mind playing tricks on me because he’s pretty sure by that time the “flash” fire had already occurred and the windows had all been broken out and the flames were residuals from the register which is how the fire traveled. Next thing I'm really aware of, I see Mr. Harrison (he teaches kindergarten and is a volunteer fireman) coming toward me asking me if I was okay.

And then came the crazy part…lol. Now, you might think I’m a bit naïve especially since I write murder mysteries, but this next part is true. So I’m not even aware really of what time it is, I might guess around 9 Sunday morning. The sun is up and the firemen are mostly gone. James’s friend, David, has come down to help James prep the house so nothing can get inside. Dave drives James and me to the police station so we can give a statement to the fire marshal. Naïve Jenna still doesn’t really understand what that means! And I will confess once it was done, I was MAD at James for not preparing me better! James and Dave never said a word to me on the way to the police station about what I should expect.

The fire marshal takes me back first since the house is in my name. We are sitting there and I’m giving him my information, still numb at the fact that the house has burned. He gets to the part about how much I owe on the house and if I’m late on payments. Naïve Jenna is still all clueless going, “Oh, no. I’ve never missed a payment.” Then he asks me about James and if it’s normal for us to be up around that time. And I think that’s the first time the bells start going DING DING DING! He asks me a few more “pointed/fishing” questions. By now I KNOW the look I’m giving him has to be one of pure insanity because he then quickly assures me that the fire did indeed start in the basement furnace. But before that declaration, he’d been fishing for “nefarious” information!!! I was shocked! Yet I shouldn’t be…I write about this stuff every day! LOL. But until you experience it firsthand, BELIEVE me, you aren’t actually PREPARED for it!

That moment changed my demeanor and behavior for the next two days. I came out of that room shocked and even more upset. The fire marshal took James back and I sat there in the police station and confessed to Dave what the fire marshal had ask me. Dave assured me that was normal procedure. It was part of his job and he had to ask me those things. I thought the fire marshal's job SUCKED if that's the questions he has to ask people immediately after a tragedy. James comes out a few minutes later and I tell him about it in the truck. James assures me it’s normal. He says, “Jenna, a lot of people are BEEEEEPS. It’s because of those people that the fire marshal has to ask you those questions. It doesn’t mean anything as far as you are concerned. It doesn't mean he thinks you are automatically a bad person.” But he was wrong. Those questions totally broke my heart!

 I’m not mentally prepared for that kind of overload. I'm evidently the only person appalled and hurt at the line of questioning. Looking back, I now know what I did was more of a transference of my emotions from one thing to another, but I couldn’t eat or sleep for two days after that whole experience…that someone would think that I would hurt my beloved old house with my family and all our worldly possessions (MY BOOKS) inside. It made me sick. I focused on that heartache for two days…which made it easier for me not to have to deal with the physical death of the house. I took one little thing and made it huge so I could put all my energy there.

But that was two weeks ago. The insurance company sent out two different fire experts to come look at the house because what happened was so unusual. It seems our "fail safe" switch failed to work for us. LOL! Go figure! So we are now moving forward slowly. My mother has flown back to help me do an inventory of the whole house, and we are slowly but surely picking our lives back up off the burned floor. We definitely couldn’t have done it without the help of family, friends, and strangers! People we know, people we don’t know…so many have come forward to help James, Maddy, and me put our lives back together. And that’s been so emotionally overwhelming and appreciated.

***UPDATE SEPT 2018: Okay, so I obviously wrote that in March. I'd say that my viewpoint is still the same. I can't read it without crying. The emotion of that night and the days that followed were so raw.  

Interview with Aunt Shirley!

I love writing this series!

The characters all have their own personalities, yet they blend together so well. I've had numerous people ask me how I came up with the character of Aunt Shirley, and basically I just say, "It's who I hope to be when I get to be that age!" So I asked Aunt Shirley to take a minute out of her busy day to answer a few questions for her audience...

JSJ: What is your favorite movie?
AS: Naturally, I love all the Dirty Harry movies. That Clint Eastwood...Mmmm mmm. You know I had a thing with him back in the '70s right? Back when I was a private investigator. We had a little fling, but I had to end it. He was wanting too much from me. I've always been a free spirit.

JSJ: I see. What's with the hair?
AS: Your hair is your signature, you ninny. It tells people who you are as an individual.

JSJ: What is your hair saying today?
AS: It says I can still kick your butt so watch your tone, missy!

JSJ: My apologies. Let's talk drinks. Why tequila? Of all the choices out there...why is tequila your favorite?
AS: Tequila is what separates you from the rest of the world. Look at that badass Dwayne Johnson. He loves tequila. You gonna ask him why he likes tequila? No, because he'd probably kick your scrawny butt. You know that song, Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off...modeled after me.

JSJ: Really?
AS: Yeah, really. You don't believe me? You think because I'm an old woman I'm crazy or senile?

JSJ: I never said that.
AS: I got a pair of nunchucks here that will make you think differently!

And so ends our time with Aunt Shirley.

Why This New Book Series Means So Much to Me!

 

So everything publication-wise is now finished and ready to go! The e-book will be available before the print paperback (no surprise there). The feelings of pride and excitement I get from this new series is mind-blowing!! I have dedicated this series, the Sullivan Sisters, to my late grandpa, Frank Mills. The "Gramps" in this series is a lot like my real-life grandfather--loves John Wayne, served in the military, and is outwardly gruff but a softie on the inside.  

The setting is also familiar--Sonoma County, California. It's where I spent many years of my life and where my dad, mom, and sister still live. As I get older and go back for visits, it gets harder and harder to leave them...and harder and harder to leave the lull of the ocean surf and the beauty of the picturesque Sonoma wine country.

 I hope y'all love this new series as much as I love writing it! It's amazing how close I feel to my own Gramps, mom, and sister when I write about the Sullivan Sisters! 

Thanks for strapping in and taking this ride with me as I plug away at my dream of writing. I hope to have Murder on the Vine available on Amazon within the next few days!! I've already started writing the second book in the Sullivan Sisters Series. 

And don't forget to check out my first series, a Ryli Sinclair Mystery, with Picture Perfect Murder and Girls' Night Out Murder.  Book three is in the works!

 

 

 

Girls' Night Out Murder...and MY version of the celebration that followed!

 

 So this is my version of how it happened...

I mentioned to James that Girls' Night Out Murder should be in paperback around the 23rd or 24th of April. He gets very excited!! See, that's where I should have known IMMEDIATELY something wasn't quite right. Because the truth is, while James indulges my passion and is quite proud of me when my books come out, he's CONSTANTLY on me about spending so much time writing that the housework gets behind. So the fact he was EXCITED should have tipped me off!

Anyway, I digress...so, I tell him my second book is due out soon, and he says, "We should celebrate!" My mind went wild!  My neurons are snapping all over the place, visions of different ideas pop into my brain...it's a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, smells...euphoria. I settle on our family dynamic reality and figure a day of window shopping (because I HATE spending money), and a nice dinner at Hereford House in Zona Rosa complete with steak and glass (bottle) of Cabernet would totally make me happy. 

 As I was getting ready to formulate my plan, he says innocently, "Hey, why don't I see if the Royals are in town then?" Like the idea suddenly just came to him!!!  How blonde do you think I am?

HHHMMMM...now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE going to the games, but I'm not sure this was ever my first response to WE SHOULD CELEBRATE...I also knew my reaction to this "innocent" suggestion was going to set the tone for the rest of the evening.

 So, that's how we ended up here...at Kauffman Stadium, James, Maddy and myself, all celebrating the release of Girls' Night Out Murder.  Was it worth it? Yes! We always try to get our picture with the Moose antler guy, Maddy fills up on countless snacks...and tonight was extra special...Chris Young stopped to sign Maddy's hat!!!                                          

So that's my story and I'm sticking to it! James may tell a different version, but since he doesn't blog (and rarely ever reads anything I write), I figure my version is the CORRECT VERSION!

Thanks everyone for the many well wishes and support I've received as I embark on this endeavor. It's my second book, and I hope to have book 3 out by September/October.

The Buhman Family: Steeped in Tradition, Respect, and Honor

 I attended another funeral today for the Buhman family. The Buhmans had thirteen original long-living brothers and sisters that pretty much all settled down around each other. The Guinness World Record people a few years ago narrowed our family and another family in Italy down as the highest sum in years of siblings living over the age of 80. Our family had over 900 years, I believe it was, of the original brothers and sisters still living.  But like everything in life, death is inevitable. The last couple years has brought funerals for many of these original thirteen brothers and sisters. 

 These brothers and sisters were a close-knit Catholic family. They brought their numerous children up devout and steeped in tradition. As I sat in the church today, I was overcome by the powerful statement made when there are so many priests attending a funeral that they can't all fit on the altar. When over three-fourths of the church is roped off just for family members...you know parents have done something right.

Yet the amazing thing about this large family is that the original thirteen brothers and sisters instilled in their children a God-given love for one another. In no other family have I ever witnessed sisters, brothers, cousins love one another so effortlessly. I have NEVER witnessed an adult brother or sister argue or talk badly about one another...Ever! And in a huge, huge family, that's virtually unheard of. I watched my aunts (the second generation cousins) today make sure friends were seated upstairs in the balcony, I watched them unrope the sections so the immediate family members could start walking down the aisle with the casket, and I watched them make sure their grieving cousins were taken care of.  I watched a loving family hold one another up in love.

 Most of the first and second generation family members stayed right here in this general area, while some of the third and fourth generations are moving around. My dad is the only roamer out of seven kids in his family. All of his brothers and sisters live within an hour or two of each other. However, he will come back for every funeral usually. A few months ago when another family member had passed, he was unable to fly back and attend. Being a third generation Buhman, we are still young enough we usually stand in the back or sit in the balcony so the older family members can sit (yes, the funerals are all pretty much held in the same church). I had waved to my aunts and uncles when I walked in the church and one of them leaned over and said, "Since your dad can't be here, you need to represent for him." The emotion I felt when she said that was indescribable. Just like that...I was to stand in the gap. And that's really how this large family is. They know how to stand in the gap for one another.

One of the third generation cousins voiced her fear to me today...she said she's afraid of what will happen to the family now that seven of the original brothers and sisters have passed away. I told her to take a look around. I could point to nearly every second generation cousin and tell you which branch of the family they belonged to. Many of them had already lost their parents, and yet no one was forcing them to be here...they were here out of love, honor, respect, and tradition. I think that says a lot. 

Now, you may be thinking that I'm too biased to be objective about what I see in this tight-knit loving family. But I'm not...because you see there is something different about me. My sister and I were adopted. When I was nine, Bob gave us his name when he married my mother. And while I use his name and attend Buhman events, there is one glaring fact that can't be overlooked: I do not look like any of them. LOL...and for those of you who know the Buhmans, you know what I'm saying. Every single one of them looks alike. I can tell Uncle Ermit's kids immediately. I can tell Uncle Harold's kids immediately. I can pretty much tell all the branches immediately. They all--whether male or female--have the same prominent nose and a full head of white hair. Doesn't matter if they are twenty-four or one hundred and four (or one hundred and five in Uncle Johnnie's case)...they all look alike.

 I was standing next to my cousin, Laura, in line today and all the first and second generation family was coming over and hugging her and calling her by name. When they got to me they do what they usually do...scrunch their brow.  I can see the wheels turning...they can't immediately place me. Of course not...I look nothing like them...lol...and that throws them for a loop! There's no cheat-sheet with me. But I always say the same thing. I say, "I'm Bob's oldest girl." I don't even really have a name, I'm just Bob's oldest. "Oh, yes, oh, yes...Bob's oldest girl! Of Course!"

After about the fourth time of doing that today, I leaned over to my cousin Matt and said, "I always feel so out of place. I don't look like anyone here." He said, "Jenna, I've never thought that about you. You do fit in here." And while it was a blessed and beautiful thing he said, I couldn't help but laugh a little. Because with his prominent nose and course black hair starting to turn white, he looks so much like his dad and grandpa, I can't hardly recognize him as an individual...he's just developing into an older generation Buhman.

I'm very proud to have been raised in a family that believes in the sanctity of family and tradition. For what the thirteen original brothers and sisters did was make sure that after they left this Earth, the children and grandchildren they left behind would still want to spend their days together. And in this day and age that says a lot. A more beautiful legacy I can't imagine.     

My Sister Made Me Laugh Today...

My sister called this morning to say she received a paperback version of Picture Perfect Murder. This was the first time she'd held the actual book in her hand and could see how the cover turned out. We'd been shot down multiple times from the publishing place because of size.

We discussed the Pros and Cons of the book cover...what we want to keep and what we want to change for the second book. Juliana suddenly laughed and said, "Thirty books from now we will look back at this book cover and laugh and laugh!" And while I laughed with her, I quickly assured her that I LOVED this book cover...if nothing more than for the fact it was our first! Everyone always remembers their first.

And then I got excited at the thought of THIRTY MORE BOOKS! LOL...her belief that we will still be together writing, editing, and designing books years from now makes my heart happy! I'm very thankful for the time in which I live where I can make my mark in the literary world...and not wait silently for "someone else's"  approval of what I have written.

I always wonder about Mary Rockwell. She was the wife of Norman Rockwell, and had three talented sons, an artist, a writer, and a sculptor. It was years ago (won't say how many) while reading the back cover of Thomas Rockwell's book, How to Eat Fried Worms, that I first became introduced to his mother, Mary. He wrote a simple line that said, "His mother, Mary, an unpublished author." And in ALL seriousness, those simple words have always haunted me. I can't help but wonder why she was unpublished (after all, she'd have a foot in the door with her husband), and why Thomas chose to write those words in his book cover. I'd like to think it was because he was proud of her, and even though "someone" never gave her the accolades she desired, she still wrote.

So going into the New Year of 2016...I am thankful I live in a time that doesn't look at my sex as "inferior" when it comes to writing, like the generations of women before me had to endure. And I'm thankful I live in a time where I don't have to wait for someone I've never met to tell me that they "like" what I have written. Or worse, to be like Ralphie from A Christmas Story, and wait with bated breath, running to the mailbox each day to see if something has come--usually a rejection letter.

There is nothing better than seeing your book next to other people's books. Sometimes I scroll through Amazon in my genre just so I can see my book with the countless other books on the page (hey, it's my first book, give me a break!), and it makes my pulse race. I don't think there's anything wrong with the cover...I think it's beautiful. I think it's beautiful because I got to embark on this journey with my sister.   

amazon.com/author/jennastjames

Striving for Perfection in Writing...

 

It was during my years of court reporting when my strive for perfection in writing first manifested. And while most people would think this is a good thing, the truth is...it hindered me as a reporter. I could get the transcripts done, but I had a hard time letting them go. I would scour my pages trying to find the slightest error. This often resulted in my transcripts not getting out fast enough.

Fast forward many years later, and the same is still true for my creative writing. As most of you know, my sister and I pretty much did this book from the ground up...from designing the cover to proofing and editing. I would send her my finalized pages to look over and tweak through Google Docs. I would then import the Google Doc into my Word document. One of my biggest fears was that something would get by...either I wouldn't import the right portion, or I'd write over something I wanted to save, or I'd not catch something in the grammar or spelling. The truth is, I've read this book so many times it almost drove me crazy! LOL...and sometimes your mind sees what it's MEANT to see, not what it really sees.

Hence...the response I got from someone. This person did me a HUGE favor and already wrote a FANTASTIC review on Amazon for my book. BUT, when I saw her today she says, "If I found two errors, do you want me to tell you?" I'm like YES! LOL...because no matter how perfect I tried to get my 206 pages, I knew there would be something. I'm just glad she didn't let the two errors influence her wonderful review of my book. :-) 

So I Wrote a Book...

I finally finished my first novel...Picture Perfect Murder. YAY!!! I had to write it under a pseudonym because Buhman, evidently,  is too hard to spell! LOL...that's no lie. Even the ladies at school spell my name wrong...Buham. So I decided a simple, easy-to-remember-and-spell name was needed. Now...anyone who knows me knows I'm a HUGE fan of alliteration (my favorite literary element)...unfortunately, when your name is Jenna, and you want a "J" name to follow, that's difficult. LOL...thank you Jenna Jameson. So the other "J" name I wanted...well, I looked that name up...she writes Erotica...SO NOT GOING THERE...lol...so I went with a half alliteration. St. James. And I like it...Jenna St. James. Sounds very stately and mature (so not me!)...lol...

 So anyway...it's been a long journey, that's for sure! There are so many things I learned about myself during this process:

1) I need to learn to merge my demons. I had difficulty coming home every night and working on the book and then getting up at pre-dawn most mornings before school to work on it some more. I mean, I absolutely loved doing it...but I noticed that other things went by the wayside. For instance, on the rare nights I'd let myself go out with my girlfriends, I struggled between feeling guilty for not writing and feeling jealous of the fact I wasn't spending as much time with them as I normally do. My cousin told me it was because my extrovert was raging war with my introvert. LOL...I like that analogy. But it's true...while I loved working on my passion, I felt left out when it came to socializing with my friends. I definitely need to learn better social management, or I'll die alone and friendless!!  LOL...

*Caveat:  Before I tell you about this next part, there is something you need to know about me. I have an inner crazy person. Now most of you who know me well will say, "Tell us something we don't know!" LOL...I've been told my hair stands on end and my eyes twirl in the back of my head. Just sayin'!

2) As I've said previously, all other aspects of my life had been put on hold while I wrote this book (and continue to be while I start on book 2). And by other aspects I basically mean my exercise routine. I used to go to the gym after school...now I come straight home and write. This has resulted in some weight gain. And it's not like I haven't noticed...duh, I went from working out nearly daily to a complete sedentary nightlife. Here is the conversation in my house nearly every 24 hours:
      
     James: "Don't you think you should be at the gym working out?"
     ENTER WILD HAIRED, EYE TWITCHING, SPLIT-PEA SOUP VOMITING CRAZY JENNA....and while I won't entertain you with the conversation that follows, trust me when I say it ain't pretty! LOL...but I understand the concern. Again, time management, something I don't seem to be good at. I tend to throw myself passionately and wholeheartedly into a project and forget about my responsibilities.

3) Which bring me to my house...eekk! While I've tried to keep up with the surface duty cleaning (dishes, vacuuming, etc), I've completely lost it when it comes to laundry and other factors. Before I was eager for people to come over and I'd entertain...now I just pray people want to stay on the porch (haha)...okay, maybe not quite that bad...but pretty darn close.

But even after all this, I'm super excited to say...I've already started book 2!! 

I also want to thank my sister (whose birthday happens to be today...the day the book comes out!!!)...she has helped me immensely! While I gave her ideas what I wanted for my book cover...she was the one that actually put it all together. She was very patient with me, and told me I could change anything I wanted. She did my book cover AND did my proofing/editing for me. It was so much fun seeing what she'd recommend I'd do with certain pieces. Without her, this dream would never have come true! THANKS JULES...I LOVE YOU!!

I'll be honest and say I don't know if you can actually download it today on Kindle...I'm still not 100% sure how this works...but by tomorrow you can! I hope I don't annoy y'all with my promotion...word of mouth is everything!! I'm also working tonight on CreateSpace...a way Amazon does paperback books...so for those of you who do not have a Kindle can still purchase the book in paperback.

* The book is Picture Perfect Murder by Jenna St. James. Please buy and let me know what you think. Y'all will be the first to read and give me feedback.

Satin Sheets Suck!

When making the bed yesterday, I put my fingers through our current threadbare sheets. Obviously time for new ones!  So I run to Bed, Bath, and Beyond in hopes of finding the perfect sheets. Little did I know how difficult this task would be...there are HUNDREDS to choose from! Now, I know what I want...I want something nice, something soft, something that feels like it's caressing my body as I curl up in my fetal position--obviously that last request will cost extra, but I was willing to cough it up!

I spent a long time massaging and caressing the swatches they had on display that not only was I getting them dirty (definitely NOT getting those!), but I had workers asking me if they could help. After the second worker comes by, I take the hint and decide to go with the sage green satin sheets. I honestly LOVED the feel of them...they were so silky and smooth...they practically DID caress my skin as I ran them over my arm and cheek. I honestly thought these sheets and I had an instant connection! So I purchase them...and bring them home...to a boyfriend that just shakes his head when I pull them proudly out of the bag.

"Jen, have you ever slept on satin sheets before?" he asks as he gives me the whole 'why me' eye roll. "No, but I hear the rich and famous use them because it won't leave creases on your face when you wake up!" I say that last part in a kinda evil way, hoping he'll think I'm talking about HIS face. So I snatch the beautiful, silky sheets out of his nasty hands (he's not worthy of their wonderfulness!) and proceed to wash and dry them.

That night James makes the bed for me while I'm getting ready for bed. NOW, there are a few rules I feel I must tell you about when you get into a satin sheet bed for the first time.  Rule number one: take sandpaper to your skin and rough it up! I did not do this...I had just finished spraying my new, silky sheets down with my favorite lavender vanilla smell, giddy with the prospect of sleeping on this new miracle I had found, when I felt myself falling to the floor. It seems the sheets didn't like MY silky smooth body! Luckily my reaction time (believe it or not) was pretty good, and I was able to stop my lower half from shooting to the floor. Rule Number two: don't move! Don't breathe, don't shift, and don't even THINK about turning over...again, you will end up shooting to the floor.

 It was a rough night's sleep. I'm not gonna lie. It was horrible. When I sleep, I'm kinda like the Princess and the Pea, I have to sleep a certain way and one little thing will have me all out of whack. This morning, my two pillows and one neck pillow were scattered everywhere (without my neck pillow I wake up with headaches...like the one I have this morning)...and under my knees I sleep with at LEAST three, sometimes four (If I can sneak one away from James)...these pillows were ALSO on the floor (hence my horrible back pain!).  ALSO on the floor were my cell phone and kindle (bedtime requirements).

When I'm finally able to turn my body over to see about James, the first thing I notice is that his side of the bed is empty...usually I'm the first one up. Oh, wait, it's not empty...he's just slid down to my KNEES!!!  I couldn't help myself...I started giggling. He opens one eye to glare at me. This makes me laugh even more. I watch in silence (okay, tiny giggles) as he wrestles and slides his way back up the bed. The whole time grumbling about having to keep a death-like grip on the pillow or it will again shoot out onto the floor. He finally makes it back up to the top of the bed, only to have the pillow slide over toward me. Yanking it back, he flops over on his back and shoves it under his head in one quick motion (pretty darn impressive I must say!). "It's like sleeping in an oil spill!" he laughs. That was a mistake, because the laughter has now caused the pillow to slide upward toward the top of the bed. "Oh, great, now my head is resting on 4 percent of the pillow!" he practically shouts!  I can only giggle more...which makes him start chuckling again.  BIG MISTAKE!!!  The pillow slides the rest of the way out from under his head.

PLOP! His head hits the satin sheets. "So, Jen, this is how the rich and famous live, huh?" I laugh! Unfortunately I laugh so hard I start to slide toward the edge of the bed! I try grabbing on to him...but he aint' havin' it! He smacks my hands away...I'm now in a precarious position...one slight, teeny, tiny movement and I'll be a goner! I rack my brain for solutions (McGuyver has nothing on me!)...as I'm thinking, James has gone back to sleep...his snoring has caused movement, and the next thing I know I'm next to my cell phone and kindle on the floor.

Satin Sheets Suck! They will be returned today!

My First 5K!!

5K Mud Run!!

Today I participated in my first 5k! Yep...two friends and I did the Mud Run.  We did what all serious marathon runners (ha) do...and that is get great accessories.  We had cute little pink shirts made up with the saying, "I thought they said RUM!"  They were a hit.  We got a lot of points, laughs, and "love it!" By the time we got to the start line, I were feeling pretty good.  And then they said GO!

Tangela models

My first big mistake was not listening to my boyfriend (I HATE even saying that!) when he kept saying all summer, "You better start training!"  I kept thinking...it's SUMMER, I'm a teacher, I have TONS of fiction books to read, and tons of pages to write. Ugh...it seems my former Marine may have known what he was talking about!  One of my friends that participated with me today said she was just going to "wing it!" when I asked her about training...and that seemed like solid, sound advice...lol...so I decided I'd just wing it, too.  Not very smart!

I did okay the first couple miles...I honestly did!!!  There were mud pits to crawl through, steep cargo nets to climb over, walls to scale and crawl under, straps to walk on top of one foot at a time (very difficult for someone with no balance!)...all these things I did (EVERY ONE OF THEM) while sloshing through mud in 100 degree heat!  Okay, I did have help on the balance beam, but as a special education teacher, I take the "accommodation/modification" approach...my friends held my hands so I wouldn't fall. I have NO balance. When we got to this balancing obstacle, Tangela says, "Oh, Jenna, you are @%!&#$!!!!!"   LOL...she was right.  But even with the help they had to give me, I honestly was still feeling great!!  THEN...the last half of the 5K came crashing down on top of me!!!

It was the last leg...the end was near...I could see the victory (finish) sign in the distance...people laughing and partying, music blaring...VICTORY WAS MINE!!  This may seem like a crazy thought, but by this time, I was beginning to get delirious...only I didn't quite know it. Yes, victory was mine...until we actually came upon the last two sets of obstacles. One set was a huge, bounce house type slide.  Only, there was no stairs to climb up and slide down all graceful like...NO...you had to haul yourself UP THE STEEP RUBBERY, MUDDY INCLINE with only a nub and a rope!!!! WHAT THE !@#$#@!!!!  Who WERE these sadists!!!!

Tangela went first (which was not the norm...she usually was the one to give me help), then Lodder and I went next.  Lodder takes off like a freaking ninja scaling a wall...and I start to panic!!  I get halfway up, and I start to almost cry.  I was physically exhausted, I'd been lifting my BODY WEIGHT for the past hour and a half...and it's a hell of a lot of weight to be lifting!! LOL..and I had a momentary panic that for the first time, I couldn't do this!!  Lodder is sitting on the top of the slide, telling me to grab on and to haul myself up (yeah, like THAT was going to just happen in my panic attack)...and I hear myself crying, "I need Tangela!  I need Tangela!"  Lodder calmed me down, I hauled my butt up the last bit, and we slid down the muddy, steep slide.  I stood up, but I couldn't quit shaking.  Much to my dismay, not three feet away, was ANOTHER rubbery, muddy slide!  And here my friends, is where it gets comical!

Now, I did learn a lot about myself during this journey, and that is I admittedly have unresolved anger issues toward men.  Ha! This was a "women only" run, but men were allowed to watch...AND VIDEO!!!  Now, not all men were there solely to heckle the women, I know that...but I did hear some rather nasty comments...and I wasn't exactly thrilled that they were allowed to video us!  Like we were going to be their comedy relief for the week!  This is important to know...because the next part is why I didn't want ANYONE filming! LOL...so...this god-awful slide is mine to scale AGAIN!  By this time I am shaking pretty badly, and I seriously think I'm going to vomit. The three of us girls decide we will do this together...and we slowly take off.  Lodder and Tangela make it to the top and they turn to wait for me...and I WAS ALMOST THERE!!  I truly was ALMOST THERE...and the worst thing that could happen...happened!  I slipped....

Now, like on the first slide, the only thing you had were these little rubbery nubs sticking out of the steep incline and a rope.  When I slipped, my whole front side hit EVERY FREAKING NUB ON THE WAY DOWN!!!  Yes, this meant with every bump, my shirt inched upward!!  And with my shirt, also came my sports bra!!  I could feel the slide on my BARE STOMACH!!  Oh, the humiliation!!!  When I reached the bottom, I surreptitiously tried to pull my muddy shirt down, while listening for the sounds of babies screaming for their mothers about their eyes being burned!! LOL!!!!! I hauled myself up...and thought...that's it, I'm going to conquer this b!tch!!!! 

AFTER!!

Only I didn't.  I tried one more time, but I was shaking so badly, I couldn't do it.  I had to tell Tangela and Lodder to go on down the slide without me.  I had to turn around and get off.  The other women there were very kind, asking me if I was all right, reaching their hands out to help me...I mumbled I was okay and tried to regain my kick-@ss attitude.  But I was having a hard time.  We finally get to the LAST obstacle, and it's TWO eight-foot tall walls to climb over.  By this time, I was dizzy, unable to speak, weak, I think I was going blind in my right eye, I'm trying not to vomit, sweating, shaking, skin was sizzling in the blazing sun, and I was just really, REALLY ready to be done!  I climbed up the wall, Lodder reaches up (they have finished) to help me steady my leg, I'm leaning over the top of the wall, eight feet in the hair, and I think, "She's going to be pissed if I puke on her!" LOL...and a part of me wanted to, because I wanted them to feel as badly as I did!!!  LOL...yep, I'm kinda a yucky friend when I'm having a heat stroke!!!! I swing my legs over, and down I shimmy.  We walk a few more feet, and there's the LAST eight-foot wall to climb.  I absolutely could not make my feet do it.  I didn't want the girls to have to wait on me, risk getting vomited on, or worse, fallen on....so I didn't do my last obstacle!  Was I disappointed...YES.  But by this time I don't really remember much else.  I know we made it to the finish line, had pictures snapped, and headed to our car.  I asked a lady to take our picture, or rather, I whispered it to her because for some reason I couldn't speak.  The world was moving swiftly and my body felt like it was standing still and ready to implode. I had to close my eyes on the ride home, afraid I'd get sick in Lodder's car.  James called me (I don't even remember this) and he said I was slurring my words so badly he thought I was hurt or drinking! LOL...it's hours later and I'm just now able to sit up without feeling like I'll lose my insides, and I still have a huge headache.  

Will I do it again...HECK YEAH...I'm looking forward to the Color Run, the Glow Run, and any other run I can find.  Because even though I am exhausted beyond anything I can ever remember...I actually was able to do something amazing!!  Something I didn't know my body could do!!!

   

Personal Testimony of my Sister's Amazing Journey!!!

This blog post is dedicated to my sister, Juliana. As most of you know, Jules has lost and kept off over 200 pounds this last year. I can't express how proud I am of her!!  Her dedication to making herself into a more healthful person has been surpassed by everyone's expectations!  I'll never forget her telling me the story of going in for her three month check up and sitting next to a girl who had surgery at the same time she did.  The girl had only lost 20 pounds in three months, while Juliana had already lost nearly 100 pounds!!!  Even the doctors were amazed at the way her body took to the surgery.  She was meticulous about measuring her food, eating what she was supposed to, and sticking to the diet. The result was a weight loss of over 200 pounds!!!  That's the amazing news...the not-so-amazing news, with this huge weight loss came real challenges.  Trust me, on this I know, when you have dramatic weight loss, it doesn't just melt away with the weight.  When I lost my 80 pounds, I loved the way my body looked, most days.  Unfortunately, there were many times I would be discouraged by the way my skin now sagged.  So I made the decision to have the skin removed.  Juliana is now struggling with this problem--the main difference, mine was only 80 pounds, hers is over 200 POUNDS!!!!  It's almost incomparable.  I'm writing this post because I am asking help for my sister.  We have started a fund for her to help reach her goal of having skin removal surgery. Juliana is the most warm, positive, and giving person I know.  She loves life, always has, but now that she's able to get around in it, she really thrives.  However, not surprisingly, there are days she has bouts of depression over the vast amount of skin that hangs down from her arms, stomach, and legs.  If you go on her Give Forward site, you can see AMAZING before and after pictures.  She starts with the day of her surgery (she had to drop down to 350 pounds before the doctors would do the surgery, so she had lost 30 pounds already)...and slide all the way over and see her FANTASTIC HEALTHY BODY minus 220 pounds!!! Thanks in advance...and please share this blog so that others may experience the amazing journey my sister has started!!     

Her link:
http://gfwd.at/1bVJKnq

Why Children Should Learn the Five Love Languages

This morning talking with Maddy, I had an eye-opening experience regarding her idea of "love" between parents and kids.  Thinking on it, she's probably not the only kid (especially from a divorced family) who may have this type of thinking. It was a serious conversation regarding how she believed one of her parents "loved" her more because that parent stayed home and took care of her as a baby, while the other parent worked outside the home every day and was really "never there" like the other, thereby he didn't love her like the other parent. I told her that her daddy working like he did paid for the house she lived in, all the toys she had, all the food she ate, and even made it possible for her mommy to stay home and take care of her full time.  That was Daddy's way of saying he loved her and her mommy.  She rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, right!" Now, to be honest, this is not the first time James and I have come across her "thinking" regarding the whole role daddy didn't play in her life or she thinks he didn't play and has never been told otherwise from the person she needs to hear it most from! But that's a whole different discussion about divorce.  

I told Maddy about Gary Chapman's the Five Love Languages.  I tried to explain to her that just because one parent does one role and another parent may do a different role, does not mean that one parent loves a child more or less.  Not wanting to put it in a "your mommy" and "your daddy" blame game, I simply asked her to take a look around the house for a minute.  All the things that she has access to, all her clothes, all her games, everything comes from someone who loves her and who wants her to feel safe and loved.  All these things come from her daddy, me, my mom, my sister...everyone loves her, but everyone plays a different role in her life.  I then tried to explain the love between adults.  I told her that Daddy shows me he cares for me by working hard, making me things, taking care of problems around the house....and I show him I care for him by cooking (James may think that's up for debate), doing laundry, working outside the home...different ways in which we show we care about each other.  Trying to lighten the mood, I said, "I even show him love by mowing the yard." Maddy finally pipes up, "Hey, I've been mowing the lawn lately in summer!"  I said, "See, that's your way of showing us you love us."  Maddy, "No, it means I love the yard!" Hmmmm...

So maybe I didn't explain it as well as I wanted...but I will say it honestly broke my heart to hear her say (and be trained to believe it true!) that she believed one parent loved her more simply because their role was different.  As I'm writing this, Maddy is sitting in the "Daddy Chair" writing her own story.  James has brought her in a cup of hot tea (she took it without a word), he has exited the room and returned with a snack bar for her (he even opened it and pulled down the sides for her)...she didn't even blink at what he did.  I wanted very badly to say, "See Maddy, this is an expression of love he is showing you!!" Unfortunately, the last few months have taken a different turn as to what I can and cannot say to Maddy...so I simply said nothing, and I just hope that she learns by the example we are setting for her...even if I have my doubts.  

It's the "Comments" that Kill Us!!!

I was reading a very funny post this morning about a former Marine that becomes a teacher and does something smart to "shock and awe" the students. It was a joke/story to show the toughness and quick thinking a soldier does, but yet it was short enough a person could remember it and tell it later.  That's what a good story/joke is supposed to do.  I couldn't wait to either go in and tell James (my former Marine) this funny story or just share it with him on Facebook.  Then I did something I hate...I scrolled down and read the comments.

It's the comments that kill us!!  And I don't mean kill us in a funny ha-ha way...I mean it's the comments of life that kill us as individuals.  The first four or five comments of this marine story are all negative, like that wasn't a picture of a correctly ranked officer; other comments were criticizing the "theory" of the whole story; other comments were what they should be:  "Good one!"

I find I sometimes live my life as though I'm reading "comments" people leave for me.  Like I'm living under a microscope, ready to be scrutinized and commented on at any minute.  And not because I'm rich, famous, or even all that darn interesting (haha)...but because it's what people feel they are entitled to do.  It's like they feel it is their right to leave a "comment" on your life because it can be done so freely on the Internet.  Judging people and their "life story" they are telling at that particular moment in their life is somehow justifiable to some people to tell you (or tell others) what they think of you. Guess what...you are not entitled.  Period. You do not always have to have the last word--which is really what the comment section is!

I'm telling myself this as much as anyone.  I'm not so special that I should feel entitled to leave "comments" about what someone else does.  I'm not so smart I should feel entitled to "comment" to others how they should live their life.  I told James I don't know why I was so angry this morning after reading the comments from others regarding the Marine story, it just struck me as "this is what's wrong with our country!"

*As a side note...I did get an education from James regarding the generalized term "soldier" and the implication it has on military men and women who serve in the branches.  

Turbo Kick...Kicked my You-Know-What!!

Okay...so I have been pretty under the weather the last month.  According to the doctor is was nothing more than dehydration/stress/blah blah...so even though I slept 13 hours on Saturday due to pure exhaustion, I woke up this morning thinking no matter what, I was going to start working out again...it has been over a month since I even felt like walking, much less anything else!!

Enter Turbo Kick!  Oh, my gosh...where to start! I decided on Turbo Kick because another teacher in my building teaches the class (she made me swear to write a good review!)...and I've heard other teachers talk about it, and I've physically seen with my own eyes how much another teacher has benefited from this class!!  HOWEVER, I will say, no one told me there were DEFINITE prerequisites that you must have!! 

1.  You MUST have the ability to walk and chew gum.
2.  You MUST be able to have coordination in your left side (if you are right handed).
3.  You MUST be able to remember how to count under duress.

As most of you know (because you know me) I have NONE of these prerequisites!!  We start off the class, and I'm feeling great (we were working on our right side)...then the evil instructor had to go and make us do the same thing on our LEFT side.  I had no idea until tonight just how UNCOORDINATED my left side really is! 

I will pause right here and let everyone know that there are a few things I will never do in my life:
    1.  A "burpie"...the only "burping" I will ever do will be to a baby...and since I've never had one, we can just move on.
    2.  The "Roger Rabbit"...I saw the movie at a drive-in theater in 1988 with my cousin.  I'm almost CERTAIN my instructor wasn't even BORN then, so by default I am never required to do this move!

Now...for the other fun tidbits running through my mind as I was lagging three beats behind everyone else tonight. There came a spot in the routine where we had to jump in the air and turn around in one motion.  I swear, I actually thought about doing this...immediately, my butt checked my reality!  I suddenly hear my butt (yes, it does speak) screaming, "WOMAN!  You've taken physics...you understand momentum and force! Unless you want to take out the right side of the room, DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS!"  Needless to say, I simply turned in a circle. Another place where I actually giggled and almost laugh aloud, was when we were doing "jab, jab, punch, kick, cross" and all I could think of was if I was ever attacked and I tried this stuff, my attacker would probably BUST A GUT laughing at my antics!!!!!  I mean, really, who the heck can't remember how to jab, jab and which foot goes forward...ME!!!  I kept repeating to myself "opposite....opposite" but my feet could never remember! 

After the class, the instructor came to me and asked me what I thought.  I replied honestly, "This was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done!"  And for those of you who know me....you know I've done some PRETTY RIDICULOUS things in my life!! 

So...will I ever go back to this class?  HECK YES!!  I plan on making this a regular thing.  Why, you may ask?  Because after this class, I left feeling like tomorrow I will be able to WALK, TALK, AND CHEW GUM!!!  And I will own it!!   I haven't felt this great in a very long time!  Yes, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing...yes, I was constantly lost...yes, I looked like an idiot out there pretending I could jab, punch, and move all at the same time.  But I left feeling great!  Alicia does a great job at motivating as well as instructing!  So when I am in St. Joe on Mondays, I will make this my thing....who knows, by the end of school year, maybe I will be jabbing and kicking my way to awesomeness!!!   

 

Thank you, Mom, for my literacy!!

I don't know why I asked this question in my Comm Arts class today...maybe because we are back from Christmas break, and I wanted to see where I needed to start again, but I innocently asked, "How many of you got a book for Christmas this year?"  No one raised their hand...hhhmmm...okay..."How many of you asked your parents for a book?"  Not a hand.  I don't know why I am so astonished, but I am...I'm amazed that kids don't ask and parents don't think to give books as gifts!!  Buying books and reading them are so much a part of my life, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have them! Last year my mom bought Maddy the full Puppy Place series for Christmas...and this year she bought Mads seven new books!!

I grew up in a family that embraced reading of anything!  LOL...I once got in trouble in junior high for bringing an "inappropriate" book to school..thank you Sidney Sheldon!  And I believe I read my first Harlequin in fourth grade.  But my mom's theory was she didn't care what my sister and I read as long as we read!  Every summer my mom would take Juliana and me to a used bookstore and let us get ANYTHING we wanted!!  I remember carrying out FOUR trash bags full of books one summer...and after we read those, she'd let us trade for more.

Reading is something I believe my sister and I took for granted growing up.  My mother used to always tell us that reading was a struggle for her as a child (Dyslexia...what is that?)...and she wanted to make sure we never struggled like she did. And I love her for that! Granted, growing up in a time where there was only two or three tv stations and static radio didn't HURT (haha)...but it really was a matter of my mom making reading important for the family!

If you were to ask me today who the bigger influence was regarding my desire to read--school or home--I would tell you without a doubt...HOME!       

I AM a Military Wife!

I AM a Military Wife!


The heartache hits around every corner,

The loneliness stretches for miles;

I desperately need to touch your sweet face,

And be graced with one of your smiles.

…..I am a Military wife!



The days are filled with everyday duties,

Like errands, the kids, the house;

But at night I lie in bed all alone,

And wish I could just hold my spouse.

….I am a Military wife!



Myriad memories that Daddy is missing,

I try vainly to capture them all;

The walks in the park and bedtime, too,

But the effort just seems so small.

….I am a Military wife!



I know what you do is important,

But that doesn’t alleviate my fears;

The impending call to head into battle,

Your sacrifice of blood, sweat, and tears.

…I am a Military wife!



So forgive me if sometimes I rage and cry,

Most nights I am really strong;

It’s just that I miss my lover’s embrace,

So please don’t be gone too long.

…I am a Military wife!



--For Angel Utt by Jenna Buhman

I cannot WAIT until I save the world!!!

Recently my cooking has come under attack. The only defense I will give is this:  I can't wait for the day when either aliens or terrorists try to take over....then, yes, THEN, Jenna will be able to come in and SAVE THE DAY!!

How you ask?  Well, as most of you know, I had the unfortunate incident with the pork chops years ago--you know, continually poisoning myself for a period of a month and a half, the doctor stating that he never witnessed a person live through such a thing, BLAH, BLAH.....but here's my point:  The day will come when my cooking will SAVE THE WORLD!!

See, if we are overtaken by "unsavories," all the government has to do is offer me as a "sacrifice" or "cook"...I can be the person that cooks and tests the food to make sure the "head leader" is not being poisoned.  I can poison myself--as evidenced by the fact I am still alive--and give the "bad guy" the food, too.  I will be strong and healthy; he will slowly perish....and I will not be looked at as a person of interest because I am spry and healthy!!

SOOOO...for all you HATERS out there dissin' my cooking ability....I can't wait for the day when you have to hoist me on your shoulders and PRAISE ME for saving your sorry butt!!  LOL....  :-)

More than My Size!

Nearly everyone that knows me knows that I have steadily lost weight over the past few years.  MAJOR weight--not those last pesky few pounds people usually complain about.  Well, today for the first time in FOREVER I went into Old Navy to try on jeans.  I had ABSOLUTELY no idea what size I was, because I've been SO screwed up over "size" that I usually stuck with what I knew. 

As most of you can probably attest to, it seems my "size" is supposed to be a reflection of who I am on the outside.  To that I say--Bullshit.  I can honestly say that the things I love about myself have NOTHING to do with my size.  I love how smart I am....I love how educated I have become...I love how EASILY I laugh and laugh and laugh (haha)...I love that I have a passion for others...and myriad other things!  But as I gather all that confidence around me and head out into the world, it is easily torn to shreds when I think about my outside shell.  So today I went into the store feeling pretty good.  I grabbed a size I thought would "play it safe"....and to my utter DISBELIEF, they were sooooo big I could slide them up and not unbotton them! 

So I go back out and got a size I hadn't seen since HIGH SCHOOL (haha)...and PUT THEM ON!  So TONS of things flood through my mind.....1.) Do they look okay?  2.) WHO THE HELL CARES it's a size I haven't seen in AGES!! LOL....then I suddenly think, "Oh, my gosh, I've become the thing I HATE!"  It's so important for me to like WHO I am, without it being all encompassing of the "SIZE" I am! 

So my caution to myself is this:  Do NOT get caught up in the outside and let your inside go!  Remember, you are more than a size!!

Going to Live Forever!

I'm going out tomorrow night, which I am excited about!  My first thought this morning:  "How can I lose 10 pounds in my ass???"  I put on the dress I'm going to wear (because 9 out of 10 days I wear one)....and I twirl around with the mirror in my hand, stopping on my backside.  And instead of thinking, "Wow, in cultures where big butts are considered AWESOME, I'd be considered a GODDESS with this ass," I think, "Back to the gym this afternoon to see if I can't improve it within the next 24 hours!"  So I tread (AGAIN) to the gym this afternoon, knowing deep down no miracle is going to come my way.  BUT I WAS WRONG!  While bicycling my hiney off (I WISH)....I came across an article that said if you were a woman that carried your weight in your butt and thighs, you are better off than women that carry weight in their stomach.  It seems fat in your butt (THANK YOU GOD) is actually considered good and has health benefits! LOL...Well, I don't know about you, but it looks like my happy ass is living until I'm 120!!!   :-)