>Remember that scene in Look Who’s Talking Too where Baby Julie and Kirstie Alley are getting all dolled up so Kirstie Alley can seduce John Travolta? It’s this slow-motion sequence of blush flying about and lipstick being applied and fishnet stockings being rolled up on long tanned legs in a sultry fashion. It’s all quite tasteful (um, NOT), but the best part about it all is that the show tune playing in the foreground is from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical Flower Drum Song. Does anyone know the song I am talking about? It’s called “I Enjoy Being a Girl”.
Okay, so for the most part I DO quite enjoy being a girl. I like sparkles and glitter and Christmas and pink and all that stuff for sure. But I do not like the hormones that come with it. And no, this isn’t gonna be a giant post about pms and such because you know and I know that we have been down that path with this blog before and we don’t need to go there again.
But it really IS part of the ebb and flow of life. These waves of good times and hard times and all the times in between, and you’d think that after all these years I’d know better how to control my emotions, share my pain, laugh off the little things. But alas, I haven’t yet.
First things first. I am really badly struggling right now with the departures of Alisha and Nicki. They are my two oldest and bestest friends who ironically got married within 2 weeks of each other in 2008 and then moved across the country within 4 weeks of each other this summer. I am so so so missing them right now. They have been the reason behind the lump in the back of my throat for days now, and I am usually on the verge of tears because of it. Even now, I could just burst into tears. Really, I thank GOD for the internet and for the phone. What did we do without those things? *I miss you girls*
I want to thank you so much those of you who emailed me about the Balance issue. You will be happy to learn that things are smoothing out a bit. Hannah and I had a fabulous girls-night-IN last Friday, and I have been enjoying quiet moments to myself and with some dear friends. However, you guys were right: I DO need to cherish this time with the boy, and I am. Somedays it is not easy, I’m not gonna lie, to realize that not every moment can be pure magic and pure bliss; life is complicated and hard sometimes, and why I ever thought that this relationship would be unaffected by that is beyond me. Ahh…gotta love those ever-present adjustments in life, hey? But he is lovely, and it’s nice to enter a phase where we can kinda just let those true colours shine.
In other news, I am LOVING my sociology class. A lot. I made a new friend and we decided to study together, and this week I had to stop myself from doing homework so I didn’t get too far ahead. Can you imagine?? This is coming from the girl who was ready to jump off a bridge towards the end of last semester for lack of motivation. This class is right up my alley. It’s crazy to back up a little bit and try to see this world through the eyes of other cultures, countries, subgroups, and minorities. I love it.
Oh, and over the summer I totally forgot how much I love to run. I think I was so busy with that crazy job promotion and my class that it just seemed like I was running all the time (which I literally was), and somehow running for the pure sake of running took a backseat in my life. It’s nice to get my head back in the game; to tie up those laces and crank up Alanis and hit the pavement (or sawdust or treadmill or track—my mood varies). It’s a love-hate relationship…sometimes my knees want to buckle and my side is aching and my lungs are crying out for a deep breath of air and I just want to Q.U.I.T. But then I finish my run…and I slow down. And I am sweaty and tired and pacing back and forth trying to slow my heartbeat and I realize that I am happy. It’s important to do good things for yourself even when they hurt, and I am slowly learning that my happy place is right there, right there at the end of my run when I can pat myself on the back and say “good job, Chris. you did it.”
There was a time a few years ago where I ran for the wrong reasons. I ran because I was convinced that if I ran hard enough, I would morph into someone else; someone new, someone prettier than me, someone skinnier than me. It was enough to motivate me at the time, but it was really unhealthy. But in the same breath I am thankful for that time in my life because it has taught me to love who I am. Just as I am. And it taught me to run. So I am going to keep on running.