Creativity Challenge

On Monday, Ashley posted a challenge where she invited bloggers to join with her as she spends the month of July challenging herself creatively. She didn't give any strict parameters or put any restrictions for the month. The challenge is broad and vague but holds one key theme: creativity. You can challenge yourself through any means: photography, scrapbooking, writing, videos, blogging, design...whatever you want!

I'm taking on this challenge with her and other bloggers. I've been struggling for the longest time to get started on my novel, to stop wasting time and just write it. I've been so busy bouncing around other potential story ideas that would takes months and months of research to even begin to get started that I've let this story lay stagnant for over a year. Maybe because the story is not as exciting as my other ideas, maybe because it means digging deep into Christianity and myself, maybe because it's the only idea I've had that holds real weight and means this could become The Story one day. The Story that gets me published. The Story that turns me into an author.

For superstitious purposes, I don't want to go into detail on what my story is about. For now, let me be vague: it centers around a girl, age 18, as she heads off to college, leaving the comforts of home for the very first time. The End. (Yep. That's all I'm going to tell you about! Chew on that.)

My challenge is to begin the outlining process. While I read many writing blogs that give the pros and cons of outlining, I do believe I'm the type of writer who needs a strict outline. Whether or not my characters stick to the outline remains to be seen, but I do want to create an outline so I know what themes I want my story to be about, what struggles the character will face, and a basic overview of the plot.

Right now, all that's sitting in my "College Girl" file on my desktop is a two-paragraph synopsis, a list of background information I need to write about, and some questions about the main character's parents. (Are they high school sweethearts? Did they meet on a missions trip? Should I make her mother a different nationality than her father?) I really want to finish up writing up all the background information and start outlining my novel. I don't want to be too strict on myself and tell myself I have to have the entire process done, but I do want to at least have it started.

So there you have it. My Creativity Challenge for the month of July. Check out Ashley's blog for more about the challenge and to join in. I'll probably give weekly updates on my status and how the process is going. I hope you'll join me!

Ten on Tuesday (Vol. 17)

1. What was/is your favorite live action (meaning not animated) kids movie?

For some reason, Babe comes to mind. I just looked it up and it came out in 1995, which seems right since I would've been around 7 at the time. Now I want to go back and watch this movie! Who didn't love Babe?!

2. What is a bad habit you have? Are you working on breaking it?

I think my worst habit is talking bad about myself. I do it all the time and I'm trying to make a conscious effort to stop. My mom does this as well and it irritates the heck out of me when she does it. I need it to irritate the heck out of me when I do it as well!

3. Describe your father in 3 words.

Distant, jerkface, gambler.

4. Which character in the Breakfast Club were you most like in the ’80s?

I've never seen this movie, actually. I remember renting it once but only getting about an hour or so in, but Molly Ringwald annoys me immensely. I can't stand her on Secret Life Of the American Teenager and she just rubs me the wrong way. Plus, I was all of two when the '80s ended, so this question doesn't really apply to me.

5. Name 5 songs you know ALL the lyrics to.

There are so many, but ones that come to mind:

• Beauty from Pain - Superchick
• Jesus Freak - dc Talk
• His Cheeseburger - VeggieTales
  
• How He Loves - David Crowder Band
• Hope Now - Addison Road
  

6. Do you make pancakes from scratch or a box mix?

I don't make pancakes. I think I've made them once in my entire life. They're just never something I crave or even want to eat, so the only time I do eat them is when I go out to breakfast. My mom makes them a lot, though, and uses a box mix.

7. What was your worst job ever? Why?

Probably my job at Panera Bread in high school. I worked there for 3 months, only for a few hours on Saturday and Sunday. It was a horrible job. The only job I had was cleaning up the dining area/dishes. I was trained to work the bakery, but never scheduled for it. I was also trained to work the register, but never scheduled for that either. And have you seen a Panera Bread register?! There are so many different buttons to press to get to different menus. They didn't give me enough time to learn it at all.

Anyway, I had to close the restaurant on Saturday and Sunday nights which entailed sweeping down everything, making sure all the dishes were clean and put away, mopping the place, making sure the coffee pots were rinsed out and ready for the morning, cleaning the bathrooms, vaccuuming, wiping down the tables, etc. It was such a hard job! I absolutely hated working there.

8. What was your favorite class in high school?

Psychology. I took it when I was a senior and it was college-level, but my teacher was amazing. I swear she was Ms. Frizzle from Magic School Bus come to life. Her hair was crazy, her outfits were hilarious, and she was such a hands-on teacher, even for college. But she made the class so much fun and our final was that we had to come to class and watch Garden State. So tough!

9. Favorite summer guilty pleasure?

The hot weather. Honestly, I love it. A lot of people hate how hot and humid it is here but there's nothing like the feeling of the sun beating down on your face and shoulders to lift your mood. Plus, after 22 years of living here, I'm used to Florida humidity. It doesn't phase me all that much.

10. Please share your best money saving tip!

Oh, I'm the worst person to ask. I guess my best tip is to make a budget and stick to it. It's something I keep telling myself I need to do, but I never get around to it. But making a budget will help you see what your bills are, how much extra you'll have left over, and start the savings process.

Where I’ve Come From

My post last week prompted a few commenter's to tell me to stop being so hard on myself and give myself some credit. And while I think it’s natural to be harder on yourself than you are on other people, I also want to take a moment and think back on where I’ve been and how much I’ve accomplished in spite of my circumstances.

You see, my life has never been an easy one. I grew up in what many would think was a normal home. My parents were married. I had an older brother. We lived in an apartment where I got dirty daily, playing outside with friends from the neighborhood. My mom was a preschool teacher. My dad worked nights at a paper company. I attended public school, had sleepovers with girlfriends, and bickered with my brother over the smallest issues. My dad woke us up in the morning, every single morning, with “It’s that time of the day again!” We would grumble, high-tail to the kitchen, eat cereal with our eyes glued to the back of the cereal box, and then get ready for school. My dad would walk us to the bus stop and be there when it returned to walk us back home. I always had a group of friends at school, never the popular girls but girls who totally understood me, even if it was only for the second grade. The next year, I’d have a brand-new set of friends. We had family dinners, Little Debbies snacks for dessert, and those joyous occasions of going out to eat. (My favorite being Pizza Hut.) My brother was into Power Rangers and action figures. I was into Barbies and baby dolls.

But things weren’t perfect. We had a secret. It was a secret that was tearing apart my parents’ marriage and causing my brother and I to always have that feeling of fear in the pit of our bellies. The secret started with my dad and Derby Lane. My dad was a gambler. (And not a very good one.) He would use his entire paycheck to go to the dog track, waste all his money, and end up with maybe ten bucks to his name. Once he had blown all his money, he would go to my mom and force her to give her money. I was all of six when I saw him pull a knife to her throat. I was maybe seven when I came home from church with my mom and brother to see my dad had punched a hole in the wall in anger. I cannot even tell you how many nights I sat in the farthest corner of my room, or sometimes under my bed, with a pillow over my ears to drown out the sounds of my parents fighting. The sounds of my dad threatening my mom. The sounds of him hitting her. The sounds of her fighting back. I was scared to death for my mom, because my dad not only had a gambling addiction, he also had an anger problem. He wasted no time turning his anger on me or my brother. I will say that he never lifted a hand to us, but the emotional beatings we received sometimes felt worse when you’re eight years old. We were evicted from apartments when my dad failed to pay the rent. We struggled financially, even though that should never have been the case, because we were surviving on my mom’s piddly day care teacher’s pay.

When I was eleven years old, my mom sat me down one night and told me that she was leaving my father and we were going to move in with my grandparents for the time being. The elation and exuberance I felt from this announcement was unmatched. I was never one who thought my parents should stay together or stick it out. She tried. Man, did she try. She wasted thirteen years with him before enough was enough. We moved into my grandma’s house. We lived in their office and it was cramped surroundings before my mom found a condo a few weeks before I started sixth grade.

From then on, it was hard. It was just as hard when my parents were together. My brother still thought my dad was the best thing since sliced bread and didn’t enjoy rooming with two females. He had a bit of an attitude problem, taunted my mother with curse-filled rock and rap music, and fought with me more than ever. My mom slipped into depression as she envisioned life as a single parent to two teenagers and trying to support us on barely anything. I suffered with horrible insomnia in sixth grade, the same year my mom was suffering from depression, which meant I didn’t have her to lean on. It pains me to say that because she has been a rock star mama for most of my life but that was one year where she just wasn’t there for me.

My first three months of eighth grade, my dad was sent to jail for stealing money from his mom. To gamble. It wasn’t the first time he’s done that, but it’s the first time his mom finally pressed charges. My last two years of high school, my dad was sent to prison for grand theft auto, attempted battery, and stealing money from his brother. I didn’t speak to him for the first of those two years until he sent me a letter, which seemed to make everything better.

My life wasn’t perfect. I’m probably the poster child for daddy issues. But yet, somehow, I’ve managed to come out of it all on top. Sure, I have some major trust issues and I think it’s going to take a very special man to break through the walls of my heart, but things could be a lot worse. There are two people I know of who are dealing with some tough times and are doing things that I could totally have imagined myself doing to make the pain feel better.

How is it possible that my brother is in a loving, committed relationship with his girlfriend of almost 8 years? How is it possible that he’s never touched a cigarette or a drug? How is it possible that the first drink he had was on his 21st birthday, and he’s had maybe 2 or 3 since then? How is it possible that he is an amazing, amazing father to his son? How is it possible that he’s held down a job since he was 15? How is it possible that he’s so responsible with his money that he has a brand-new truck and has never missed a payment? He was 16 when he started buying his own clothes and paying cable for our house. He bought his own TV with his own money. He bought his own car with his own money. He didn’t have any sort of father figure in his life to teach him the right way to do things. He’s been shown the wrong way. By all intents and purposes, he should be a gambler, beating on Jenny, and a distant father. But he’s not. He’s so far from those things that it makes me laugh. He’s the biggest male role model in my life and I always think to myself, if only I could find a man who is half as good as him, I’ll be happy.

Then there’s me. At 22, I’m still a virgin and looking to remain so until my wedding night. It shouldn’t be this way. Shouldn’t I be looking for other guys to satisfy this craving for a father figure? That’s the way it works, right? At 22, I’ve never been drunk one night in my life. Not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with that, as long as you do it responsibly, but there were many chances in high school to wind up on the wrong side of the tracks. At 22, I’ve never had a cigarette touch my lips or a drug touch my fingers. I’ve been asked, propositioned, but in the end, it’s always a big, fat no. At 22, I’m still in college and will keep fighting until I graduate. And I’m going to make something of my life. Something big. Something amazing. Something wonderful.

I’m living proof that you can come from pretty awful circumstances and make something better of your life. You can’t control circumstances and bad things happening sometimes, but you can always control your reaction to it. You can always stand up for what’s right. My brother and I have come a long way. Our past is something we’ll never forget but it’s the present and future that our eyes are fully aware of. It helps that we have a mother who loves us with every fiber of her being. Who would give up anything to make us happy. Who has supported us every step of the way.

We've turned into two people who take responsibility for their actions. We've never even thought to use our past or lack of a father figure to make excuses to do bad things. My past is a huge part of me. Would I have enjoyed an easier life, with two parents who loved each other and me? A father who held down a full-time job, went to all my sporting events, and supported me the way a father should? Heck yes! I'm not going to sit here and say that I don't long for that kind of past. But that's not the past I was given. The past I was given has given me trust issues and heartbreak. It has given me strength, passion, and purpose. It has formed me into the woman I am today. A woman who knows what she believes in and stands up for what's right. A woman who can't wear her heart on her sleeve for fear of what people will think. A woman who has risen above her circumstances and is ready to make something amazing of her life.

Seven Quick Takes Friday (Vol. 10)

One. The last time I did a 7QT was on April 9th. It feels good to get back to a normal blogging schedule. Life is finally settling down and it shouldn’t get crazy again until September at the earliest. Thank Jesus for that!

Two. I went on a crazy spending spree on Sunday. I almost never have money to do that but I still had some money left over after paying bills and putting some money in savings. So, I dropped $60 at American Eagle and then $40 at Target. I really can’t remember the last time I’ve done that for myself. I always feel guilty for spending too much money on myself, especially when I have credit card payments that I need to catch up on. But, sometimes, you just have to treat yourself.

Three. This week has been emotionally draining, to say the least. But I’m happy that I figured out what was bugging me for so long, and that I now have a plan of action. I think it’s going to help my mood and energy levels a lot. Plus, going to be at 9:30 is divine!

Four. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I bought Jillian Michael’s “No More Trouble Zones” over the weekend. I did the workout on Tuesday and holy Moses, I’m still having trouble just walking without excruciating pain in my thighs and butt. I used 3-lb weights, but I think I can bump it up to 5-lbs because I have no pain in my upper arms or chest area. I want to do this workout twice a week, so I don’t burn out as easily as I usually do with workout DVD’s. Still, I have an intense love for Jillian and her workouts. She’s been the only workout instructor I can find, besides Billy Blanks, that really pushes me to my limits.

Five. Has anyone been watching Last Comic Standing? I mean, seriously, if you’re not, you should be. It came back after a long hiatus and I am so happy it’s back. While I’m not impressed with Craig Robinson as host, the talent is outstanding. I couldn’t find any recent clips on YouTube (other than clips of comedians performing in comedy clubs, with crappy audio) but trust me, you’re missing out. TiVo, DVR, whatever it! Just make sure you watch it this Monday.

Six. Once again, I just have to thank all you girls who have texted me, sent me some amazing e-mails, tweeted me, and sent me comments. It was more than I ever imagined because I thought it was a post where I would get 2-3 comments. I didn’t expect to feel so wrapped up in love and encouragement from everyone and just wanted to give a big thank you and a great big bear hug to you all. You know who you are.

Seven. I feel like I need to start giving myself a Twitter break once a week. I’m easily falling back into old patterns, although I have stopped the habit of checking Twitter when I wake up and reading through every, single tweet that was sent while I was sleeping. It’s crazy how dependent we become on social media and technology!

A Plan

Yesterday’s blog post was about something I just had to get off my chest. I’ve been a little blue for a while now and I sat down on Tuesday night and just wrote and wrote and wrote. It was basically a stream of consciousness post, with no apparent theme in mind. I just wanted to figure out what was getting me down. And now I know.

I was up in the air about allowing comments or not. It was a very personal post and I didn’t want to come off as a “Woe is me, leave me ‘Stephany, you are so awesome’ comments, please.” But, in the end, I did allow comments and received some great advice from some great friends. (And some awesome e-mails!) If I could have, I would have given you a great big hug. Just know I consider you gals some very special people in my life and I think about you daily.

With that said, I need a plan. Now that I know what’s bugging me, I need to begin taking steps to fix it. I need to be more aggressive in my approach to life. There have been special moments in my life where I have faced my fears and seen amazing success. But it wasn’t easy, it was an uphill battle, and most times I just felt like quitting. But there was something in me that kept me going, a fire in my belly.

It’s there, it’s burning. Now I just have to do my best to keep it burning and growing. Here’s how I’m going to do that:

Say no to naps!
I mentioned yesterday about taking naps and lots of them. In this past month, I’ve probably taken close to 4-5 naps a day. While I have nothing against naps and I think they are an awesome addition to any life, there comes a point in time where you stop living life. I mean, has that all my life has become? Just one big, giant ball of sleep? I’m happier on the days when I know I’m coming home and taking a nap, and that’s a little sad. My goal is to save my naps for the weekend. I need to at least try to be more productive with my time Mondays-Thursdays and make these naps more special to me.

Get to bed at 9:30 PM every night.
My alarm goes off at 4:30 AM on the weekdays and I’m definitely not getting enough sleep. While my mom can survive perfectly fine on 5 hours of sleep, I need at least 6 to be able to make it through the day, 7-8 if you want me to be happy. As has been the habit for many, many months, I haven’t even started preparing for bed until 10:30 PM, and not turning off my light until after 11. Combine that with my 3-hour daily naps and I’m not getting very good sleep. On Tuesday, I made myself stay up, worked out earlier in the day, and was finished eating by 8:30 PM. I went to bed at 9:30, not waking up once until my alarm went off at 4:30. A full, good night’s sleep. It was marvelous. Imagine how much more energetic and alive I would feel if I did that every night?! My goal is to stop eating by 8:00 and to start preparing for bed around 9. I think it’ll do wonders for my sleep habits.

Make a list.
A few months ago, Kathleen wrote a post about how she stays productive on her days off and one of her tips especially stuck out to me: making a list. I get off work anywhere from 10:30 AM – 1 PM, which gives me a whole lot of time to be productive. Yet I waste it napping, being lazy, and spending too many hours reading blogs. I want to begin making a list of what I want to accomplish during that particular day, so as to be more productive. I think it’ll help me out a lot to be more structured with my time.

Start back interning.
I took quite a long vacation from my internship, due to destressing from school and my summer semester. Next week, I hope to begin working for a few hours a day, two days a week. I love my internship. I love how challenged I am, how busy it is, and the atmosphere. It really makes me crave a desk job! (Trust me – spend a day working at a preschool and you’ll long for your desk job back!) I’m excited to get back in there, get some new projects, and feel challenged again.

Get involved.
Rather vague goal, I guess. But I want to get out more! Sometimes, it seems like I am so attached to my mom, it’s just unhealthy. I want to go places without her, take on challenges that interest me but not her, and just get out! The only way to find friends is to be social, right? There are spinning and yoga classes offered at local rec centers. On Wednesdays, I attend a Zumba class with girls from my work. (Although, last night was only my second time going. I’m hoping to make it more of a weekly thing!) I also found Spanish classes that are offered at these centers. Maybe I won’t find my next group of great girlfriends, but at least I’ll be making more out of my life. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even get brave and attend a meet-up!

I’m not a fan of whining and complaining. I don’t enjoy writing posts like I wrote yesterday, but sometimes, you have to figure out what’s got you down in the dumps and how to remedy the situation. This is my plan. It’s done wonders for my emotions over the past two days, knowing I’m doing something about my life.

A Jumble of Thoughts

I’ve never been one of those bloggers whose been afraid to write about how I really feel, in fear I’ll lose followers or not receive comments. I’m not someone who likes to sugarcoat the truth, even when it means other people will have tons to say about it. I like reading blogs where people really get personal about their feelings and let it all hang loose. Life is not one big, giant pile of happiness. It’s messy, tough, and hard. This is a post that I’m writing more for me than anyone else. Because, quite honestly, I feel like my life is in shambles right now.

I don’t know when I started to realize that I’m not living my life to its fullest potential. Maybe it happened a few months ago, maybe it happened during last semester but I was too busy keeping my head above water to notice, maybe it’s been an ongoing process for years. The truth is, it fills me with deep regret and bitterness. I want so much out of life, but I feel like I’m so unwilling to do what I need to do to reach it.

My relationship with God is basically non-existent. I go to church on Sundays and I cannot help but feel completely at home there. I could listen to praise and worship music for hours. I love the atmosphere, the preaching, and the people. I leave there determined to get serious about my faith, even if it means leaving behind life as I know it. Yet I come home and fall back into the same old patterns of laziness. I haven’t had a consistent quiet time period since I spent a year on campus in 2006-2007. Back then, I felt so lost and alone. It was the first time I realized that I needed Jesus and I clung to Him. It was such a horrible time in my life, but such an awesome time in my faith. Since then, I’ve been a lazy believer.

I cannot even tell you the amount of times I doubt my faith. It’s really scary, because I know the truth. I know what I believe in. Yet the world is throwing all these different ideas and morals my way that it causes me to wonder what’s right and what’s wrong. I know what’s right, but I want to do what’s wrong, even when all it does is fill me with guilt.

I thought once I was done with my semester, I would be happier. My stress levels would be so much lower, I would have more time for work and exercise. I would be more well-rested. And I would have more time for me. That has been the case. I have had so much me time, it’s insane. But I find myself going to work, going through the motions of the day, coming home and napping for three hours. I’ll wake up so disorientated I won’t even know what day it is, or even if it’s daytime or nighttime. I’ll lay around for about an hour, then hit the gym. Throw in a few hours to read blogs and watch TV, then crawling back into bed at 11 PM, only to do it all over the next day. It’s such a boring way to live. There’s no excitement, no challenges. Life is seemingly passing me by and I’m just watching it with wistfulness in my gaze.

When I get home from work, I have hours with which to do amazing things. I can write more, connect with the online community, take a class at a local rec center, volunteer, take my dog on long walks, help out more around the house, cook complicated recipes, learn more about the area in which I live. Yet I choose to take a nap. I choose to be lazy and non-committal. I choose a mundane life.

I feel like my family unit is falling apart. Things are great between my mother and my brother and I. My nephew is a delight. But then there are other issues looming between other family members that just tears at my soul. I’m not going to dive into them because it’s not fair to them for me to do that but suffice it to say that we are entering a time where we need to pull together even more, and it seems like we’re all dividing. Am I to blame for some of the dividing? You bet! I’ll be the first to admit. But it eats at me that everything has come to this. I want to do something to change it, but I’m scared to take the first step. I’m so damn scared to hold out my hand and offer to help because all I think I’ll get is a dirty look.

I’ve never been one who has wanted to live the life of a normal twentysomething. On most days, I’m happy with the fact that I live a fairly homebody lifestyle where my mom is my best friends. Yet there are times when I wish I were different. I wish I had a close knit of girlfriends with whom to spend weekend nights, having hilarious jokes with, and go on crazy adventures with. I don’t have that. I’ve never had that. I barely know anybody personally that’s my age (and doesn’t want to spend weekend nights at the bars, getting drunk and kissing random guys). Yet again, I’m scared to take the first step. I’m scared to ask someone to hang with me, even if we’re not the best of friends. How does a fairly shy and quiet 22-year-old go about making a brand-new circle of friends? Is that even possible?!

And let’s not forget about my dad. Let’s not forget about the fact that the one man who is supposed to love and support me, unconditionally, does not. Throughout my entire life, I’ve lived in fear of him. I’ve never been able to tell him how I feel, truly feel. He has a terrible temper on him and it’s scary when it’s unleashed on you. When I was five, he yelled at me and reduced me to tears because I couldn’t tie my shoes. When I was ten, he yelled at me when I was sick with the flu and he had to clean up my mess. It’s been so hard for me to truly believe people could like me for me. I haven’t even been able to have a successful relationship with a guy because fear has taken hold of my heart. If my own father couldn’t love me, what makes me think some random guy could? has been a constant thought circulating throughout my head. It took me 22 years to be able to finally tell him how I feel. And I had to tell him this through e-mail. I’m still not sure I could tell him this to his face. His return e-mail was mean and nasty, full of hatred. I didn’t read it, although my mom and brother did. I need a clean break from him. I need to move on. I need to learn how to forgive him. Right now, I’m so caught up in bitterness and hatred that it’s hard to see past that. And it’s been doing a number on my emotions, as of late.

I need a plan. Writing this blog post has helped me see areas in my life that I want to work on. And now I need to figure out how to change my life to reflect the person I want to become.

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On a completely unrelated note, I’m guest-posting over at Krysten’s blog today with her “Where I Live Wednesdays” feature. Check it out!

Ten on Tuesday (Vol. 16)

The last time I did a ToT was April 13th. I’ve missed these!

1. If you could trade lives with another blogger for a day, who would it be and why?

There are so many bloggers whose lives seem a lot more interesting than mine. They’ve seen more success than me and have found a way to make money from blogging. (The ultimate goal, right?) If I had to choose anyone, I would probably pick Caitlin from Healthy Tipping Point because not only is she healthy and active and married to a gorgeous husband, she’s also found a way to give back to the online community, as well as become a published author!

2. Do you prefer receiving handmade or store bought gifts? Be honest!

I’ll be totally honest and say store bought gifts. I don’t think I’ve received many handmade gifts and when I have been given them, they haven’t impressed me. I think you can also put a lot of thought and effort into store bought gifts (sometimes more so than handmade ones). I mean, I’m totally not a fan of receiving bath & body sets because I think that takes zero creativity. Still, I will freely admit: store bought > handmade.

3. Would you rather camp or stay in a hotel?

I’ve only been camping once and I’ve stayed in about a billion hotels. The one time I did go camping, I had an absolute blast. I was eight or nine and I just remember how relaxing and fun it was. Plus, nothing beats roasting marshmallows over the fire and making a s’more. (Or two. Or three.) Then again, I love sleeping in hotels. It’s a bit more comfortable. In any event, it’s always nice to get away.

4. What’s your favorite comfort food?

Chocolate. Anything with chocolate. It can turn my mood around like that!

5. You’re having a really bad day at work. How do you unwind when you come home?

I’m pretty good at being able to put work problems behind me when I come home. I don’t like thinking about work when I’m not there. If I do have a bad day, all I really need is a vent session with one of my co-workers or my mom and food. Lately, I’ve been doing better at not letting circumstances give way to gorging on food. But it’s still a big comforting factor for me. I’m just doing it in moderation now, which is good. 

6. What’s your favorite chore? (Or, the chore you hate the least)

Probably laundry. I really don’t mind doing the laundry, for the most part. Plus, I find that I put my clothes away more quickly when I do the laundry than when my mom does it. When my mom does it and puts my folded clothes in my room, it usually takes me a week to actually sort through them and put them away. I’m really bad about that.

7. What got you interested in blogging?

I’ve really always had some type of blog. I started off at Diaryland, then went to Xanga, then back to Diaryland. I tried LiveJournal for a while but didn’t like it. When I started college, I started a Blogger blog to document my teaching experiences. Then I went over to Wordpress to do a more personal blog. After having some success with that, I went back to Blogger and I’ve been here ever since. I’ve always liked documenting my life, even the silly things I wrote when I was fifteen. It wasn’t until probably a year ago that I realized how big this blogging community is and really started getting involved in that aspect.

8. Are you currently reading a book? What is it?

I’m reading two books currently. I’m reading Perfecting Kate by Tamara Leigh, which is about a girl who begins to change what she looks like to please people. I’m just getting into it but it’s really interesting! I’m also reading When God Writes Your Love Story by my two favorites, Eric and Leslie Ludy. This book is amazing. I can’t wait to do a review of it when I’m done. It’s not changing my view on love, but it’s making me see that my way of going about finding love is not weird.

9. Do you have a favorite artist?

As in art? No. I’m not that into art. Honestly, I see art at Target and think it’s spectacular. Obviously, I have a very un-critical eye for art.

10. Have you ever met someone famous?

I’ve met some local celebrities, like our news anchors. Oh, and on Saturday, I met one of our local jazz singers at a festival I attended.

Month 4

I skipped over updating this blog about my third month on Weight Watchers, mainly because I was giving the updates at the wrong time. Since I started WW on February 21st, doesn’t it make sense to give an update around the 21st of each month? Yes?

So here you go: another vlog. Stats are at the bottom, so you could just skip the vlog and read my stats. But you wouldn’t do that to me, would you? (Also, it’s obvious I need a new camera after watching this. The quality is quite bad. And please excuse my dog licking and scratching himself in the background. He’s a weirdo.)

 

Stats

Weight Loss
Starting weight (on February 21, 2010): 151.2 lbs
Current weight (as of June 20, 2010): 141.4 lbs
Total weight lost: 9.8 lbs

Inches (started measuring on April 30)
Arms: 12 inches (no change)
Thigh: 22 inches (-1)
Upper waist: 31 inches (-1)
Lower waist: 34 inches (-4)
Hips: 35 inches (-.5)

Before & After

First of all, thanks so much for all the kind tweets, texts, DM’s, messages, and e-mails about Wednesday’s post. It still isn’t over, as I received an e-mail from him yesterday. Blog post to come on that.

If you had told me four years ago that my mom would be training for a marathon, I would have laughed in your face. My mom? The woman who can barely walk up two flights of stairs? Who considers walking to Wendy’s (right next door to her work) as exercise? That obese woman? Nope. No way.

Because this used to be my mom:

Please don’t judge my brother and I on our jerseys.

 

 

And now? She’s a completely different person.

 

She’s lost 80 pounds (and kept it off for almost 2 years). She has completely transformed her life. She’s a completely different person. She loves to exercise. She gets home from a run filled with endorphins and happiness. Her healthy eating habits are absolutely astounding. She took on this healthy challenge with no abandon.

She began her journey in October 2006. I was away at college and called her from my night class. (I was in a terribly place at that time and called her 3-4 times a day, just to calm myself down.) She didn’t answer when I called her. When I called her after my class, she told me she had been in a Weight Watcher meeting. My response? “No, you haven’t. Really. Where were you?” But, yep, that’s where she was. Earlier that month, she had received word from her doctor that he wanted to go over some test results. She got scared, thinking she was pre-diabetic. Luckily, she wasn’t but it was the fire in her belly that made her start taking her health seriously.

It was amazing to see her transformation. It’s been inspirational.

It’s been four years. Two years of losing weight, two years of maintaining her weight. Yes, she has weeks where she goes off the deep end. She has days where she just wants to stop counting and stop having to be so in control of everything she eats. But, for the most part, she’s done awesome. She’s a healthy person, leading an active life.

She began running in 2006. We’ve done 4 Turkey Trots together. In 2006, we walked the 5K. In 2007, we ran the 5K. In 2008, she ran the 5K and I walked the 5K. In 2009, she ran the 10K and I walked/ran it. A month later, she ran her first half-marathon, with a time of 2:43. In April, she ran a 15K. She’s a full-fledged runner now. And she absolutely loves it.

And now she has a new goal. On January 9, 2011, she’s going to run the Walt Disney World Marathon.

A marathon? Yes, I think she’s nuts. Yes, I don’t doubt she can do it. Yes, I will be there every step of the way. If anyone can do it, she can.

So here’s where you come in, dear bloggers and friends. Runners and non-runners alike, do you have any advice for her? Advice on training. (She’s following a plan, but other advice would be welcome!) Advice on running gear. Advice on what to do before and after a long run? Anything and everything, please!

If you don’t have any advice, just tell her how awesome she is. Because she kinda is.

The End

If you've been reading my blog for any period of time, you should know about my dad. In September, I wrote about missing him. In December, I wrote about how I felt I was cheated out of a father. In January, I wrote about his first contact with me since November 2007 and how I needed to let him know how much he had hurt me through the years. And on February 8th, I posted the letter I sent to him.

The letter was written in a way nicer tone than he deserved. While I let him know how much he had hurt me, I still left the door wide open for reconciliation. And with his reply later that month, he slammed the door shut, locked it, and threw away the key. In his e-mail back to me, all he seemed to do was take the parts he didn't like and dissect them down. And, once again, all the blame fell squarely on my shoulders. He's the best at twisting words around and making you feel like you did something wrong.

At that point in time, I was so wrapped up in school and my internship and just trying to keep my head above water. I didn't have time to deal with replying to him, although I knew I had to reply. So I kept putting it off until I decided to send him an e-mail back on Father's Day. (Spiteful? Yes.)
But he beat me to the punch by forwarding the e-mail to me Thursday night. I wrote the letter Saturday morning. I got up early and just wrote and wrote and wrote. Every time I would glance at the e-mail he sent me, my blood would boil and my hands would start shaking. The things he said in there were just plain awful and he showed no remorse or love for me.

On Monday, he sent me an e-mail with the subject header: "Where's my phone call???????" This is what his message contained: "Well, I have not heard from you and I figure you were so pissed off you probably don't want to speak to me. Well, I'm trying to move on. I've BEEN THROUGH A LOT these past 10 years and all my fault."

Yes. He was moving on from me. I read this on my way out the gym and couldn't stop the tears from falling on my way back to my apartment. To be quite honest, I've never really let myself cry over him. As open as I am on this blog, my emotions and feelings are locked up so tight to the outside world. I don't talk about my problems with other people and even my mom has a tough time getting me to talk. It was the first time I let myself cry over the loss of my father.

I called my brother when I got home and read him the e-mail. He talked me down from the ledge. He's really the only person in the world who can understand what I'm going through and he's helped me to see that Dad is wrong about me and that I am special and worthy. After talking to my brother, I added a few paragraphs to my letter and sent it off to my dad. I haven't received a response and I hope I never have to speak to him again. He has been the most negative force in my life and I'm better off without him. Now I just have to figure out how to go about that, how to put my dad in the past, and live my life without his nagging voice telling me I'm not good enough.

I'll probably be blogging about this more, because it feels like my dad just died. In a way, he did. Our relationship died. I felt sick after sending the e-mail, but also empowered because I said what I wanted to say and didn't back down from anything.

For your viewing pleasure, here's some of what I said to him:

Being loved and having unconditional love are two completely different things. There were times I felt your love. I hold on tight to those times because they were few and far between. When I was younger, you were awesome. It was only as I grew older that I realized what I needed to do to grab your attention and keep your love. A child should never feel like they should have to do a dance to get a hug from their parent. I felt like I was walking on eggshells around you, trying to do my best to impress you but always falling short.

It was in spite of you that Mark and I never touched a cigarette or a drug. It was in spite of you that we didn’t turn into alcoholics. It was in spite of you that I’m not the mother of multiple children. It was in spite of you that Mark has managed to have a normal, functioning relationship with his girlfriend where he has never even thought about doing things you did to Mom. (He’s only 23 and he’s double the man you will ever be. One of his goals in life is to be nothing like you and he’s doing a damn fine job at that.)

Mom has been more than a mother and a father to Mark and I. She has been our sounding board, our support system, and our friend. She has done everything she can to make us happy. She has taken out loans to keep us afloat when you weren’t giving us child support. We moved into a two-bedroom house for 3 years where her “room” was the living room. She gave up so much for us that to even think of you trying to take credit for how we turned out makes me want to vomit. You didn’t help at all. You hindered. And it was only by her love and support that Mark and I grew up to be functioning members of society. We have never been to jail. We don’t have a criminal record. We don’t drink or smoke or do drugs. We both have steady jobs. We are doing everything in our power to not turn out anything like you.

I can’t even fathom telling a child of mine I’m “moving on” from them. You have to be a pretty screwed-up person to think about severing the relationship with your own flesh-and-blood. And, sure, your life hasn’t been easy. (But who ever said life was easy?!) But YOU are the one who stole money from your mother, abused women, gambled away every penny you made, stole money from your brother, attacked your brother, stole his car, etc. You play the victim card so well but YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF! Stop being such a victim and start taking control over your life. Be a man for once.

I’m ready to move on from this relationship, but it’s still hard. It wasn’t easy writing these words and it was even harder pressing the “send” button to give it to him. But he needed to read these words and I needed to say them. This is one story that won’t have a happy ending, but in time, I hope to discover and explore my own means of finding a happy ending.

June.

LOOKING BACK

Thirty-Day Shred: In May, I pledged to complete the 30-Day Shred challenge. And I did complete it, which is a miracle in itself. It wasn't easy and it wasn't fun most days. But I'm so proud that I committed to this and completed this challenge. Every, single day was a tough, intense workout and while I didn't lose as much weight as I hoped to, it was great to have 30 days of continuous exercise.

Quiet Time: This was a total fail. While I did manage to have my quiet time during my media fast, it didn't happen at all in May and last week was a total fail as well. But one of these days, it's going to sink in. Until then, this is my goal.

Cut down on little expenses: Uh. Well. Fail? During my media fast, I sat down and went through both my mom's and my bank statements for the last 6 weeks. I separated everything into categories to see how much we were spending. And it was a little sickening. Since money issues are still a problem for us, I plan on blogging about them more regularly. We have to become more in control of our finances, because the fact that we're struggling is just utterly ridiculous.

THIS JUNE, I WILL…

Become a better tracker. I have noticed that those weeks when I track my food effectively and set out an exercise plan, I do better. I feel better. Yet I've been lax on these two areas for the past two weeks. (Although I've still managed to lose weight, interestingly enough.) I bought a notebook to write down my goals for the week, track my food and exercise, and talk about how I'm feeling overall. I'm hoping by being more anal about what I am eating and the way I feel when I exercise, I can learn better eating habits and find this healthy lifestyle a little easier to handle.

Get our grocery bill under control. When I figured out where we were spending our money, this is what was the most out of control. Mom and I fell into the bad pattern of going to the store of a few times a week and buying things for a few days. You definitely spend twice as much this way. I want to start shopping smarter, only going to the grocery store once a week, and using coupons more effectively.

Commit to quiet time. I am determined to find time every day to be with God. I know I say this every month but after my media fast, I realized just how much I need and crave this time. I need to read my Bible more, pray more, and journal more. I’m going to find time to do this every day.

*Inspired by Kyla.

Fast

When I was in 7th grade, my entire church went on a fast. I was only thirteen, but I decided to take on the challenge. I'm going to be totally honest, I didn't go into the fast in the right frame of mind. I didn't go into it to grow closer to God and become a stronger Christian. I was a chubby middle-schooler! I went into it to lose some weight.

By 5 p.m., with only a carton of orange juice in my belly, I crashed. I was not the type to nap but that's what I was doing when my mom got home from work. I was weak, shaky, and just totally out of it. My mom talked to me about it and mentioned giving something else up. I ended up giving up on the fast but it's never been very far from my mind.

Media fasting is an idea that I heard about probably a year or so ago. I don't remember where I first heard about it but it really appealed to me. I am so attached to technology. I check Twitter multiple times an hour. I love the blogging community so much that I feel an express need to catch up on blogs daily. And writing blogs is something that brings me so much joy and happiness. I love TV. While I don't watch too many hours of TV a day, I still have a lot of shows I do watch. (And love.) And, honestly, who could deny loving Facebook drama? My attention is pulled in so many different directions. My focus shifts constantly. It cuts into my quiet time with God, my prayer life, and quality time with family.

I've been feeling so stagnant and dull in my life lately. While I'm taking on challenges, achieving some great things, and being totally honest with my feelings, I still feel like I'm not doing enough with my life. I feel like I could do so much more, but I'm so scared to take a leap of faith and do it.

So I took a week off from the media world. It wasn't a true media fast since I still did watch TV (although no more than I usually did) and did spend some time on the computer. I stayed away from all social media and blogging. When I was on the computer, it was mostly for school.

At first, it was weird. When I woke up on Monday morning, I immediately reached for my phone to check what happened on Twitter while I was sleeping. And then I remembered. Media fast, media fast, media fast. And honestly, being off Twitter/Facebook/blogs/etc. wasn't as awful as I first thought. I missed it at certain times but not as much as I thought it would. I felt so much more focused. There was a certain peace that came from being away from it all. I didn't feel a need to check Twitter just in case I missed something important. I didn't care what drama was going down on Facebook. And while I began to severely miss my blogging friends and reading about your lives, it felt good not to have a need to read every single word you wrote and analyzing whatever lame comment I happened to leave.

During my fast, I finally established some quiet time with God. I sat down and wrote out a five-year plan, as well as smaller yearly goals to accomplish. I figured out our finances and why we still seem to be struggling, even after downsizing. I worked out a lot. I napped a lot. I was calm, peaceful, and happy. (But not so happy that I didn't miss YOU guys!)

I loved doing this. I loved it so much that I want to start doing monthly weekend fasts. And I want these to be true fasts where I completely step away from the Internet and TV. I want to use the time to be engrossed in the Word, praying, and strengthening my relationship with God.

Even if you don't have the same goals as me, I still encourage taking a break from the Internet, even if it's just for a few hours or a day. Just to get away from it all and refocus your attention. It doesn't have to be about faith. In the end, this fast was good for me as an individual. I really feel like it brought me from stagnation to hope. I have goals for the future. I have plans on how to achieve those goals. (And I also have a hot new 'do that's getting some rave reviews!)

Blonde

Lately, I’ve been all about challenging myself, taking risks, and seeing myself succeed. I want to stop burrowing in my shell when opportunities for growth arise. I’m still very far away from the girl I want to be. I don’t seek out opportunities and more often than not, I turn down exciting adventures that will help me grow as a person.

But then sometimes, I put my mind to something and I achieve it. Sure, maybe to you a hair cut and color job isn’t a big deal. Maybe it’s something you think is a little cheesy and self-promoting. But to me, this signifies something big. I didn’t have a lot of people supporting this decision and it was really something that I had to do for me. To show myself that I can take a risk and it can pay off. Or maybe it can’t, but at least I took the risk.

Locks of Love is a charity that I fully support and feel a passion for. With this charity, people donate their hair which will then be made into wigs for kids with cancer or other diseases that cause hair loss. The main criteria is that it’s unbleached and at least 10 inches long. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to donate my hair to this charity. But my hair doesn’t grow very fast and I would always get annoyed with my hair length and cut it off before I could grow it out to be long enough.

But I made a decision to cut my hair off. Donate it to Locks of Love. And do something good for a change.

And let me tell you, it was not easy to keep growing it out, especially as it got hotter and hotter outside. Long hair is not conducive to Florida summers. I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail more than ever in these past few weeks. But I did it.

And then I decided to do something absolutely crazy with my hair. I was going to dye it blonde. While I had been blonde as a child, it slowly grew darker and darker in middle and high school, until it was this weird blondish-brownish color. The first time I colored my hair was when I was 19 years old. My mom didn’t want me coloring my hair until I was at least 16 and by then, I was at this weird stage of Wanting To Be Different. So while all the girls around me were dying their hair and doing kooky things to it, I kept it long and my natural hair color.

I’ve been coloring my hair the same color for the past 3 years. I felt like it was time for a change. Something drastic. Something I would either hate or love. And I decided to go blonde. Even if I hated it, I wanted to try out being a blonde for a season. (And much love to Mandy for telling me “It’s just hair!” whenever I expressed doubts.)

Today, I did it. I chopped off close to 13 inches of hair in total (11 of it going to LoL). And I can now be classified as a blonde.

Some before pictures:

And now…the new Stephany

REPOST: Bittersweet Relief

*I'm scheduling this to post during my media fast. I'm hopefully still going strong with this!

Recently, I found out my first blog (where I was actually serious about blogging, and not just writing lame updates once a month) and I've been reading through my posts. I wrote for no audience and sporadically. I've been reading through the days I was in my final internship and I've been struck at how awful that time truly was.

So I decided to repost a post from October 30, 2008. It was exactly one day after I was told I wouldn't pass my internship. It holds emotions ranging from bitterness to sadness to confusion. It's heart-wrenching and real. I really don't hold back with this blog posting and thought I would share it with you.

On Sunday, I promised a super-long blog about how my internship is going. And I can tell you today that it is over.

When I first met my teachers and started my internship, I was deliriously happy. I wrote blog entries on how this internship would be so much better. Well, not really. Everything seemed to go downhill after my first evaluation in late September. My teachers then began to build a tendency to wait until they saw my university supervisor to tell me everything I was doing wrong. She even said something to me a week ago where she feels she has to be there in order for my teachers to communicate anything to me!

They never once told me that they had serious concerns about me. They told my UP and she set up a meeting between us where my P.M. teacher didn’t say much of anything (Oh, except for telling me I should’ve done more at their PLC that morning – like him? Watching ESPN and looking up stats for baseball?!) and my A.M. teacher expressed her concerns. OK. I was a little distraught (fine, fine. I was a blubbering idiot!) but I resolved to take their suggestions and do better.

My P.M. teacher gave me the reins of teaching at Week 4 or 5. It was up to me to find out where he keeps his pacing guide (and he never showed me one for science or social studies). He never asked me for lesson plans. Except for 1 or 2 times, he never told me what I was doing wrong. Obviously, when you get no feedback, you think you’re doing an A-OK job! I had given and graded 2 separate math tests before he told me how he graded. His communication skills sucked. And I knew he didn’t like me. I could just tell. And he said something to the effect that people know when he doesn’t like them. Yeah, I knew.

As for my A.M. teacher, she came to me about three Mondays ago and asked to see all my lesson plans for the week. So, OK. I give her a sheet where I had written out in shorthand what I would be doing that week. “No,” she says to me. “I need the lesson plans that tell me exactly what you’re doing.” Oh, OK. I had seen her make 2 different types of lesson plans. The first was a shorthand, teaching points for the week and the second was more of a format of “Teaching Point/Modeled/Active Engagement/Link”. So I worked on that that night and showed it to her the next day. Do you think that’s what she wanted? Nooo. Her communication skills are JUST AS BAD as my P.M. teacher! So I wrote out 4 lesson plans of EXACTLY WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY, a script. She never told me, nor did she show me hers. She assumed I should know it. Um, does she also assume that all of her students know when to put an exclamation point or question mark at the end of a sentence? I didn’t think so.

Every single time I went in for my internship, I cringed as I thought what thing she could criticize me on today. She never gave positive feedback. It was always negative. I started calling her Ms. Negativity. She totally was.

When I told her I was feeling very overwhelmed with the writing, she told me that concerns her a lot. Wow. Thanks! Way to boost my confidence in teaching, Ms. Negativity! How about, “Well, then let’s do something to help you feel more confident. What can I do to help?”

It was such a bad situation that I feel a sense of relief. I felt so alone there, my teachers weren’t there to support or help me. They were there to get a few hours of peace from teaching. They didn’t help me out and expected me to do things they had been doing for the past 10 years. My teachers had a conference with my UP during the kids’ PE time where they told her they wouldn’t be able to pass me and were not “impressed” with me. Well, honeys, I wasn’t very “impressed” with either of you! (And, on a side note, my UP agreed with me on this one) I keep debating whether I should send them an e-mail. They were so sneaky about everything. Except for once (which was the week she kept wanting the long lesson plans), they never sat me down and told me what I was doing right or wrong. They never conferenced with me alone. It always had to include my UP. I felt like they were tattling on me! Every time we sat down with her, it was as if I had been hit by a Mack truck because they were telling her things they never told me. They had a meeting about me during the kids’ PE time yesterday and that was when they told her they wouldn’t be able to pass me. Again, being sneaky and underhanded. They never told me this. They never said, “We’re getting concerned that we won’t be able to pass you.” They talked to my UP and then she came with me to the classroom where I got my stuff and left. They said absolutely nothing to me. I had left some things in my P.M. teachers room and he had the kids give it to me.

Luckily, my UP was able to get me a spring internship where I am already formulating a list of everything I want to say to my new cooperating teacher. I’m really thinking I’d like to try out 2nd grade. I definitely don’t want 3rd or 4th. Maybe 5th. Because of Florida Writes and FCAT, 3rd and 4th grade will be so busy with that for the first 2 months of my internship. I don’t think it’ll be SUCH a big deal with 5th. I always said I wanted to to intermediate but I did just fine in my primary internship. Maybe that’s where I’m supposed to be. I don’t know. I don’t even know if teaching is what God wants for my life. Scratch that. I know teaching isn’t the Big Plan God has for me. I know it’s writing. I know God wants me to use my ability to write for His good. So maybe I should just take some writing classes next semester? Maybe I should change majors? I. AM. SO. CONFUSED! I honestly don’t know what to do.

I really need to pray about it and see what God wants. I always said, “God, close doors in the places you don’t want me to be and open doors where you do want me to be.” Is this a closed door? Have I been fooling myself for the past 2 years? I just don’t know.