Sweat the Sweet Stuff

So we're already a little more than halfway into 2011 and my three goals for this year have taken a turn for the non-existent. I'm struggling to maintain peace with my job, but I haven't been looking for another one. Italy has been postponed indefinitely because I recently found out that I need to have oral surgery that will set me back $5k. And while my dating life seemed to be holding promise for a short while, it very shortly thereafter circled the drain into oblivion (more on that disaster in a later post).

But instead of labeling this summer the "Summer of Suck," I'm choosing to respond to these problems with the best possible attitude and focus on the positive aspects of my summer thus far. After all, the "problems" I'm dealing with are (using a term my friend Jennie referenced), "champagne problems." I'm definitely not lost to the fact that things could be so much worse. Self-pity has never gotten anyone anywhere, so what's the point? I allowed myself to be upset for a hot minute (mostly about having to drop $5k on ONE TOOTH), and then I chose to move on.

Anyhoo, one such positive aspect of my summer thus far was my annual July trip to Ohio. Last year's visit was so much fun that I worried this vacation might not live up to all the fun I managed to find myself in last year. Thankfully, I realized on my very first night in town that I had nothing to worry about. In addition to taking in a minor league baseball game, an Italian fest, fireworks, hiking, dining out, lots of therapeutic working out and lots of therapeutic eating and drinking, I was able to spend LOTS of time with my favorite person in the world - my nephew, Ethan.

Ethan is 9.5 years old, yet he's incredibly mature for his age. He can hold his own in any conversation with an adult, and may even come off as intimidating. He has no trouble telling it like it is and then informing you of his opinion on the matter. The kid is an expert at negotiation, and if you announce a plan, say the order in which you wish to run your various errands, for example, Ethan will be quick to challenge your logic and introduce a more efficient order to run such errands. And the thing is, he's usually right.

His looks, however, are in sharp contrast to his mature, 9-going-on-39 personality. You see, at nearly 10 years old, Ethan is still such an adorable little guy! His Mom, who can't even claim to be 5 feet tall, confessed to me through a whisper behind her hand that "Ethan is the smallest person in his class." Whether or not this bothers Ethan is unknown, but I can tell you that it makes his Aunt Steph very happy to be able to carry him around piggy back style with zero strain. Additionally, his baby face remains stubbornly intact, which makes it hard to refrain from squeezing his cheeks and smothering him with kisses, not unlike the cliched image seen on TV of an old auntie aggressively squeezing and kissing the cheeks of non-enthusiastic nephews. He also has a scratchy voice and a lisp that only compliments his irresistible cuteness. When I used the phrase "sense of humor" during a conversation with my brother, for example, Ethan butted in, mockingly, with, "Who theth thenth of humor?!" Giggles.

We shared many quality moments and highlights during the week, including creating secret handshakes, making up a dance routine that my parents and brother were enlisted to judge, Ethan taking responsibility for charging my phone each night (I have no idea what possessed him to adopt responsibility for my phone's battery life, but I appreciated the gesture, nonetheless), Ethan providing a tutorial about how to utilize the various features of said phone, and playing Words with Friends while sitting right next to each other.

Here are some other amusing highlights:

The Bachelor's Bachelorette
I discovered only hours into my vacation that Ethan and I share an affinity for watching The Bachelorette. We engaged in such an intense conversation about Ms. Ashley Bachelorette's suitors at dinner that the rest of the family seemed to disappear from the table. Ethan casually threw around words like "feelings" and "communication," which simultaneously humored me and terrified me. He is only 9, right? When I suggested we watch The Bachelorette together that following Monday, he replied with, "Yes! We can flip back and forth between The Bachelorette and WWE Smackdown!" Ah. And there it was. Confirmation that he is still very much a boy's boy.

Lazy River Revelations - The Sequel
If you remember this post from last year http://bigcitysmallpotatoes.blogspot.com/2010_07_01_archive.html, then you know that Ethan and I had some pretty remarkable adventures at the water park. Like last year's trip to Ohio, I was able to spend the day at the local water park with Ethan during my visit this year. Except unlike last year, we were lucky enough to go twice in one week! And also unlike last year, I didn't have to beg Ethan to share a  double-person tube with me in the lazy river! Since floating semi-aimlessly seems to inspire deep conversation between us, I curiously asked Ethan if he's already thought about which college he'd like to go one day. He replied without hesitation, "Duke. Or Yale." Impressed, I then asked him what career he'd like to have as an adult. While I personally would pin him to become a litigation attorney, his reply wasn't unusual for a 4th grader, as he informed me he'd be happy with either being a professional baseball, basketball or soccer player. I then challenged him to come up with a career he'd like to have if he couldn't play sports professionally. This "hypothetical situation" question seemed to surprise him and he sternly informed me that he didn't want to do anything else besides play sports professionally. I pleaded with him to come up with something, to which he finally replied (in a very sarcastic and slightly irritated tone), "I don't know, work at Walmart?!"

Run Like the Wind... at a Moderate Pace and with Breaks
One morning I announced that I was going running in the neighborhood. Ethan offered to run with me, which made me excited beyond belief. My Mom, Dad and brother share little to zero of my interests (often making me feel like the black sheep of the family), so when Ethan made his offering, I was quick to encourage him to lace up his sneaks. For a short while, Ethan kept up with his Aunt Steph! I modified my pace, but not too much. He was chatting the whole time, which made me worry he'd soon run out of gas. And run out of gas, he did. We paused for breaks, he with his hands on his knees huffing and puffing, me annoyingly running in place. I told him we only had to run for just ten more minutes before he could say that he accomplished running three miles, and the determination in his eyes told me he was hell bent on hitting that three mile mark. During our final break, while I was running in place, he calmly but sternly told me to "Stop. Just stop. Will you please just stop running for a second?" I complied, assuming he was totally annoyed by my perky, perpetual energy, but it turned out he just needed me to be still so he could wipe his sweat-soaked face all over my shirt. Lovely. After we finished those three miles, Ethan sent a text message to everyone he knew notifying them of his accomplishment. He was so proud! And now I finally had a running buddy for my visits to Ohio! I fantasized about how we'd soon engage in casual conversations that included terms like pace, 5k, miles, race, shin splints, etc. Alas, my hopefulness was short lived, as Ethan woke up incredibly sore the next day. After slowly making his way down the stairs, Ethan found me in the kitchen and greeted me with the words, "Never. Again."

Not so Smoothie
I needed to run some errands one morning, and Ethan came along for the ride, er, walk. I wanted to go to McDonald's to get a coffee, but I had to promise Ethan a smoothie to avoid catching hell for putting a glitch in our firmly established schedule. On the way there, he mentioned that his stomach was cramping because he was hungry. Well, lunch time was approaching, after all, so I said he could also get a "snack" with his smoothie. When we got up to the counter, I ordered my $0.99 coffee and his smoothie. When I asked Ethan to tell the cashier what snack he wanted to order, he said, "I'll take the number 4 meal." And at that, my $0.99 trip to McDonald's skyrocketed to $8.00. Lesson learned? Having kids, even if they are not your own, is expensive!

Sweat the Sweet Stuff
One morning while Ethan was still sleeping, I was rooting around a drawer in the bedroom. Ethan slowly began to stir, to which I offered a soft, "Good morning, pumpkin." He rubbed his eyes and groggily returned my greeting. He then stretched his arms out and requested me to "come here." I obliged, and that is when he gave me one of his trademark I'm-never-ever-going-to-let-you-go hugs. During this sweet gesture he softly said, "I'm glad you're here." My heart subsequently melted into a pool of unconditional love.

And so there it was - a quintessential, perspective-altering, ah-ha moment in life reminding me that money, possessions, bum teeth, etc. hold absolutely no merit in the grand scheme of life experiences. It's the sweet and special moments with my nephew (as well as the meaningful moments and gestures from additional family and friends) that I'll remember twenty years from now - not how much money I have in the bank today, or whatever needless items or entertainment I choose to spend my dollars on this week. 

2011 may not be going the way that I had hoped or planned, but I take comfort in knowing that I can always count on time with the people that matter most to me to reflect upon what is positively perfect about life.

Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

Although I've been on approximately 9,552,000 dates and have had approximately 3,723,000 flings in my lifetime, I’ve only been in two relationships that have lasted longer than four months. The problem (besides the severely skewed ratio of dates to actual boyfriends) is that the ex-boyfriends from the aforementioned two relationships continue to haunt me to this day. My mind regularly scrutinizes what went wrong and what went right in those long deceased unions. Not just that, but I’m also guilty of staying in touch with these guys far too long after the last tear has been shed. While I’m thankful for the lessons I learned from each relationship, why do I have so much trouble ultimately letting go?

I’m currently reading Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert. There is a section in her book about being haunted by exes. I found myself relating to this subject even though I've never been married (obvi). Her words reassure me that I’m not the only one who has dealt with this issue. Turns out, a gazillion divorcees deal with this same dilemma. For example, in one passage she writes:

“Part of what makes divorce so dreadful is the emotional ambivalence. It can be difficult, if not impossible, for many divorced people to ever rest in a state of pure grief, pure anger, or pure relief when it comes to feelings of one’s ex-spouse. Instead, the emotions often remain mixed up together in an uncomfortably raw stew of contradictions for many years. This is how we end up missing our ex-husband at the same time of resenting him. This is how we end up worrying about our ex-wife even as we feel absolute murderous rage toward her. It’s confusing beyond measure."

Additionally, I realize that part of the reason I have trouble letting go is my empathetic nature. I'll argue to the death that I'm a strong-willed person, but sometimes my compassion for people -deserving and undeserving- can really get the best of my emotions. In the case of boyfriends past, it's like I just want to be reassured that the person I once loved and still care about is going to be "OK," and the only way I can make sure this happens is to stay in touch. Gilbert's book, along with countless articles I've been reading, have been helping me through this though, and I'm slowly learning to accept that I'm not responsible for an ex-boyfriend's emotional well being. In fact, staying in touch does more harm than good to each individual because it severely stalls the "moving on" process.

As I write this I 'm reminded of the movie Wendy and Lucy. Michelle Williams plays a poor girl, Wendy, perpetually struggling to feed herself and her dog, Lucy. Lucy eventually gets lost during a cross country move, and when Wendy finally finds her, she discovers that Lucy has been taken in by a caring owner with a house and a big back yard. Lucy gets excited when she notices Wendy, but Wendy ultimately decides that the dog is in better hands and decides to leave her beloved companion in the big back yard, despite the dog's heart-wrenching whines. My point here is that Wendy chose the most difficult option because she loved the dog, and she knew that neither one of them benefited from being together. 

As difficult as it may be, it's time that I, too, leave the dog in the big back yard.

Finally, everyone always says that the scariest thing about falling in love is letting yourself become vulnerable enough to experience true intimacy. But to me, the scariest thing about love is having to let go of someone and bury that once treasured intimacy, ultimately letting it rest in peace.

Nice Day for a... Royal Wedding

I've been an admitted anti-bride for the majority of my adult life, so you can imagine my surprise when the marriage between the Duke of Cambridge and the Duchess of Cambridge today conjured up an emotional turmoil within me. Other than marriages of close friends and family members, weddings generally make me cringe. Such an unnecessary spectacle, I normally think. So what is it about the Kate and P-Wills nuptials that cracked my cynical facade? Well, I have an idea...

When I was a little girl, I was obsessed with all things girlie, sparkly, sequin-y and princess-y. And when I was flower girl in an aunt's wedding, I discovered that weddings were beautiful fairy tales that came to life. In fact, ever since I saw Princess Diana walk down the aisle trailed by a seemingly infinite cascade of satin and taffeta, I declared that my life's purpose was to have a televised wedding where I would show off a train longer than Lady Di's, and sleeves even puffier than hers. I became so obsessed with weddings that I would spend hours drawing dresses on any blank piece of paper I could find. I would plan extravagant weddings for my Barbie dolls. When most kids were spending their allowance money on toys or candy, I was spending mine on bridal magazines. A family friend even sewed a wedding dress that would fit my elementary-sized body, which I wore until I wore it out.

I wasn't just obsessed with weddings, though. I was obsessed with the idea of love. Finding that amazing one person to spend my life with was just as important to me as my ideas of grandeur regarding weddings. I wanted to marry the original karate kid, Ralph Macchio, and I was certain that one day I would.

Additionally, my mother let me watch soap operas at an age that was probably much too young to be doing so, but I was hooked on them and believed all of the love stories (i.e. Luke & Laura, Bo & Hope) is what I had to look forward to as an adult. Love and marriage was the most important aspect of life to me, and I didn't believe (because I couldn't fathom) that an adulthood without them even existed.

However, my ideas of all things lovey-dovey and pretty princess faded as I became an adult, of course. With maturity and experience under my belt, reality sets in and I eventually learned that there are no guarantees in life, including finding love and getting married. But most poignantly, I learned what it meant to have a broken heart, and I was forever changed. Difficulty letting my guard down and exposing my vulnerability, for example, has been the biggest challenge for me with relationships since my first devastating heart break. Just as I feel that love is the best feeling in the world, I believe a broken heart is the worst. Who it was, how he did it or why he did it no longer matters, but just knowing how it feels to have a broken heart has caused me to construct a thick barrier around myself and keep one foot out the door of every relationship ever since. I've been so afraid of risking the possibility of feeling "hurt" again that I've nearly completely forgotten about the "joy" of love.

Despite being so discouraged for so long, I don't regret having experienced a broken heart or my failed relationships. I honestly think that each one was a valuable learning experience and I believe I have been somewhat shaped by each one. Yes, the one thing I looked forward to as a child about becoming an adult has perpetually disappointed me, and for too long I let myself get too caught up on what went wrong in my relationships rather than thinking about what needs to go right in future relationships, but I feel I've worked hard on changing my tune within the last year or so. And I know at times I seem to have more questions than answers about love and relationships, but today I feel (at least, I hope) that I finally have the right tools to allow myself to be vulnerable again and the strength to handle the risks of falling in love.

I guess today's royal wedding affected me so much because it reminded me of Princess Diana and the feelings I used to harbor when I was a little girl. Being reminded of those feelings made me sad that that little girl - a dreamer, a lover of love and convinced the world was full of only good things to give - is no longer within me. Or is she? Perhaps she has just been stored in the attic of my brain for too much time. But  because of today's royal wedding, I've been provoked to visit that attic and dust off those old feelings of hope.

I know that life could never be a fairy tale, but I consider re-discovering my capacity to love and abandoning my fears of a broken heart a dream come true.

My Inner Edna Pontellier

Being single for as long as I have has really given me time to think, analyze, compare and contrast the dynamics of being single and being coupled. It's strange, but on one hand I'm antsy, lonely, frustrated and fruitlessly attracted to more types of people than ever. But on the other hand, I'm growing ever more comfortable with my single status and even find myself asking, "Why do I feel the need to be on a constant quest for a significant other when I am perfectly happy alone?"

Society really puts the pressure on us single folks to get paired up. Without referring to any real statistics, I'm going to guess that most people my age are married or in a serious relationship, and majority has the most influence on the amount of pressure singletons endure. But what are the reasons for all the pressure? Do single people make coupled people uncomfortable? Is that why there is so much pressure within our culture to find a damn man already? I feel so sorry for celebs like Jennifer Aniston and Renee Zellweger. NOT because they are perpetually single, but because their single status is constantly scrutinized. And I bet the scrutiny drives them insane because they aren't even unhappy. It drives ME insane! Even with volumes of progress made from the feminist movement, our culture continues to make us feel like our lives are insufficient and incomplete unless we are in a relationship.

That said, I do consider myself open to finding love and would love more than anything to find that perfect match, but I just don't think that I should be made to feel bad about myself because I'm single and enjoy it. Could I really be happier, though? I mean, I have been in love before. And while I do think it's the greatest feeling in the world, I've still managed to survive and become a better, happier person even though that relationship ended. In fact, is being so independent and happy on my own preventing me from sustaining a successful relationship as well as the reason I've been single for the majority of my adult life? Or, could it be that even though I'm fully capable of falling in love, it's the tools for maintaining the working parts of a relationship that I lack?

 Instead of moping around and analyzing the reasons as to why I'm not paired up, maybe I should just relax and let nature, fate, destiny or whatever take it's course. But if I just relax and let things happen, then I'm perceived as having "given up." Just as well, being assertive, finding dates and analyzing what is going right and wrong can be perceived as being "desperate." The world of dating is a damned double-edged sword, and all this analyzing is so overwhelming that it makes me want to give up.

Additionally (and not necessarily related to the aforementioned), an observation I've made during my single stretch is that it's quite easy to find someone to lust after, and it's also quite easy to find someone who has all of the capabilities and characteristics of building a fully functional partnership. The trick is finding both crucial aspects within the same person. According to all the books, magazines and conversations with friends and family, this alleged human being is supposed to exist, yet that person is as elusive as Bigfoot to me.

The protagonist, Edna Pontellier, from my favorite book The Awakening by Kate Chopin experienced this very dilemma. For example, Edna had lukewarm feelings for her less-than-dynamic husband, yet he was nice enough and obligingly fulfilled his husband-ly duties. The young lad who induced Edna's "awakening," however, made her feel beautiful and sensual and provoked a renewed spirit within her. That young lad was quite flaky, though, and he ended up disappointing poor Edna.

I consider this book my favorite because it taught me that marriage and family are options - not obligations (a taboo sentiment during the Victorian times when this novel takes place) but I never thought that when I read it ten years ago that my life would virtually parallel Edna's. Edna found a solution to her dilemma, though. And while her solution was far from desirable, she told society to "suck it" in her own darkly beautiful and poetic way. I don't think society is worth meeting the same unfortunate demise as Edna, but I would very much like to do her justice and find exactly what she wanted, but never found.

2011 Goals: 1st Quarter Recap

At the beginning of 2011, I set some big goals to be completed within 365 days. And now that we've officially completed the first quarter of the year, here are some updates on my progress:

Goal #1 - Find a New Job
So I haven't found a new job yet this year, but I haven't been looking either. Instead, I've more or less been working on making peace with my current occupation. You see, I've noticed that having a better attitude and focusing on all the perks that come along with my job has made my 40 hours a week spent in Cube-ville much more tolerable.

Speaking of cubes, mine isn't too shabby. I'm on the 30th floor and I sit next to a floor-to-ceiling window that allows me one of the best views in Chicago. So many people I know don't even have windows in their office. One of the reasons I moved to Chicago in the first place was to be in the thick of tall buildings and magnificent architecture. My view from my desk reminds me every day that I made my dream come true.

Another example of how I'm coming to terms with my job is appreciating the amount of vacation days I have earned over the past 7.5 years. The most important thing to me about work is my time away from it, and my job allows me plenty of time to spend with family & friends and to indulge my interests. Also, no one bats an eye if I show up a little late a few times a week or if I spend an hour and a half at the gym during my lunch break. Moreover, the flexibility I have does not go unappreciated.

I've also realized that annoyances are a part of any job. Well, annoyances are part of any life experience, really. I can't naively believe that another workplace wouldn't contain its own set of irritants. Unfortunately, there is no work place utopia, so it's advantageous just to make the best out of the situation you're in. I may not be actively looking for a new job, but I am keeping an open mind should something new, different and exciting come my way. For now, though, I'm grateful for my employment, my health insurance, my gym membership, etc...

As a final note, I've always beat myself up about how I didn't go to school for something art-related. But how do I know that I wouldn't have ended up in this exact same job if I had gone to art school - or if I had majored in any other major? There are no guarantees in life, and somehow you accidentally, inadvertently, randomly end up exactly where you are. And perhaps that place is exactly where you belong for right now.

Goal #2 - Find a Boyfriend
Ummm, to say that my progress has been minimal in the love department so far this year would be an understatement. While I have managed to get myself out on one date, that date was less than remarkable. At least I got my feet wet again after going date-less for so long, eh? Anyway, I met Mr. Date through eHarmony (I reluctantly subscribed back in February as simply just another way of "putting myself out there"). He seemed nearly too good to be true on paper, so I was anxious to see if there were any sparks in person.

We had a lot of fun and laughed a lot on our date, but I didn't feel any chemistry. He also had a couple strikes against him from the start too:

1.) He doesn't drink, and I don't trust people who don't drink. I like to drink and I don't think it is too presumptuous to view that type of conflict as having the potential for major relationship roadblocks.

2.) He is a little guy! I like to think I have an open mind and that I'd certainly date someone shorter than me, but I felt like this dude's bodyguard. Especially because I walked him to his car before catching a cab when the date was over. He even thanked me for making sure he got to his car safely. I'm a fairly small person, but this dude made me feel like a "whole lotta woman," and when it was all said and done, I just didn't think he'd be able to handle this big lady.

Keep in mind, however, I wasn't exactly perfect on this date either. After evaluating how it went, I decided that I talk too much. Even after I knew things wouldn't go anywhere with us, I continued to attempt to impress him by blabbing on and on and on. Next time I'll know to reign in it and create a little mystery. ...That is, IF there is a next time. Wah wah!

Goal #2 - Plan a Trip to Italy
So the last time I wrote about Italy, I was still in the "gathering information" process. Well, I have gathered tons of info, so much so that I'm dealing with information overload, which promptly brings me to the "sorting through the information" process.

In addition, I have pretty much nailed down dates of my trip. I just have to make sure that flight prices, train schedules and hotel availability are all in agreement. I have plenty of time before I take my trip to hammer out details, and I'm as giddy about it as ever!

Eat, Pray, Eat Some More...

It's no secret that I was quite devastated when I learned that I didn't get accepted into the competitive teaching graduate program I applied to last fall. I had put so much time and effort into something that had only a 9% chance of working out, yet, the rejection blind-sided me. But as I mentioned before in previous posts, the process itself taught me so much about myself that I have zero regrets. For example, I learned how much I am willing to sacrifice for something that means a lot to me. I learned how hard I'm capable of working toward a goal. And most importantly, I learned to appreciate the process of reaching a goal so much that I now perceive the outcome -good or bad- as simply part of the process. I also truly believe everything I learned will lead me to bigger and better things in life, regardless of whether or not those things have anything to do with a career change. And, in hindsight, I feel that the rejection from the teaching program was actually a blessing.

Having said all that, I've been inspired to take on a new challenge. Although I set only two goals for 2011, it was never set in stone that I'd limit myself to just two, so I'm throwing in a third. This new challenge warms my heart just to think about it. Unlike the risk of applying to the teaching program despite the huge possibility of rejection, this new major challenge will -with certainty- come to fruition, as I'm the sole person in charge of making it happen. No one can tell me "no" as I pursue this challenge. In other words, not a single person can get in the way of my biggest dream.

What the hell am I talking about, you ask? I'm going to take a solo trip to Italy next fall. In the same way that another woman's womb calls her to bear children, my heart longs to see the world, instead. I've imagined myself traveling the world -especially Europe- for so long that I can't even recall my earliest memories of learning that other parts of the world exist, and then deciding I want to see them. And while I have been to some amazing places, the lack of time and adequate finances have kept me from experiencing all that I would have liked to by now. There is nothing stopping me now, though!

After telling my friend, Megan, about my idea for this trip, she was incredibly encouraging. She took a solo trip to Australia and New Zealand two years ago and claimed that it changed her, which, I'm finding, is not an uncommon sentiment. In fact, I'm discovering that there are so many books, movies and websites dedicated to the solo female traveler. Additionally, Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Eat, Pray, Love and the subsequent movie with the same title aren't huge successes because she wasn't dramatically affected by her travel experiences. Therefore, I want to be changed. I want to grow! And I cannot think of a better way to do so than by traveling solo.

So, why Italy? Of all the countries and cities in Europe I'm desperate to see, Italy has always been at the top of my list. But, why? Well, this girl likes to eat. And drink. And Italian food happens to be my favorite. The decision was a no-brainer, really. When first thoughts of this trip began ruminating, I thought I might start in Rome and then travel to Paris and England, but because there are so many cities I want to see in Italy, I'm planning to visit only Italy and seeing 3 to 4 cities while I'm there. Tentatively, I'd like to see Rome, Naples, Florence and Venice. I'm only currently in the "gathering information" part of the process, but the more I learn, the more excited and happy this independent spirit becomes.

I'm looking at seven months ahead of me until the trip - a time frame that would make most people quite antsy. But as for me, I am looking forward to relishing the whole planning process. And as I've learned from prior experiences, the process is as exciting and important as the outcome, after all.

B!tch Slapped

Holy effing crap. After desperately wondering why I am having so much trouble finding a date and wondering why I have so much trouble with my relationships, I finally got my answer in the form of a proverbial slap in the face via my future self. Well, sort of...

 Someone - a DUDE! - posted the following article on Facebook yesterday, and it shook me to my core. Guilty! GUILTY as charged! Click on the article to see what I mean:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tracy-mcmillan/why-youre-not-married_b_822088.html

I've been guilty of each and every one of the 6 reasons listed in this article at some point in my life. My last relationship was sooooo all about #'s 2 and 4. And I can closely relate to #'s 1, 5 and 6 rightthisveryminute.

For example, regarding #1, I didn't think I was "angry" until I read this article. I need to admit that I am, in fact, angry. For many reasons. I'm angry because I'm so miserable with my job and I don't know how to change my situation. I'm angry that I didn't choose a different career path in life. I'm angry that I didn't have more guidance as a young adult. Blah, blah, blah. Wah, wah, wah. No guy wants to be with someone who is cranky and miserable for over 40 hours per week. I wouldn't.

Additionally, regarding #5, I was really, truly, actually thinking about my thighs seconds prior to reading this article. And I was dwelling about how maybe I should become a personal trainer at the gym, and how it would be a lot easier to get certified and take the pay cut if only I were married. ........Really?! Who am I?! My brain is totally programmed to think only about myself at all times and I can't even imagine what it's like not to do so. I, I, I. Me, me, me. Enough, already!

Which brings me to #6. I've been having this recurring dream lately that I'm walking in a crowd or hanging out with my friends and I'm so much shorter than everyone else. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the deeper meaning of this dream. Ever since the dark ages of middle school, I've felt that I don't measure up. It's as if the awkward and confused 13 year old girl inside me never fully recovered from getting teased in 7th grade. Instead, her lack of confidence remains a roadblock to my success and makes me feel like I don't deserve love. It's actually pretty ironic that I'm currently a mentor responsible for building the confidence and self-esteem of a 12 year old girl when I'm such a fraud! However, if I can somehow help her build a solid foundation of self worth that will successfully propel her through middle school and beyond, then I'll agree to finally consider myself successful.

Also, contrary to the article, which assures me that "I'm enough right this minute," I've always felt that I needed to have all of my personal problems solved in order to feel worthy of finding love. I suppose that's impossible, though, right? I think I need to tape that affirmation to my bathroom mirror.

I should already know this, though. At 32, why don't I already know this? My friends know this. In fact, my best girlfriends in Chicago are the most confident women I know. I admire their confidence so much and aspire to one day be as comfortable in my skin as they are in their own, even if it seems impossible at the moment.

Seeing this article really was as if my future self showed up in the present to stage an intervention by slapping me in the Facebook and yelling at me to snap out of it, a la Cher in Moonstruck. It's like she wants to save me before it's "too late" or something. Well, I asked for an eye-opener, and I got it. I have a lot to work on, but at least now I know where to begin.

Finally, every single person has flaws, and I'm not without a great deal of them. But, as long as we acknowledge that they exist, we can then begin to fix them and move forward. And if you aren't aware of what is preventing you from moving forward, don't fret. I'm sure your future self will eventually meet you in the present to slap yo ass into shape!