For my #1 Fan

Yep Sami, this one is for you. I really never thought someone would miss my blog, especially since I wrote so few times.

Then, I let the fall season of So You Think You Can Dance pass by with no mention. No comment on how much Mollie annoyed me. No speculation on who was sleeping with who (I didn't write about it, but I totally thought Janine was sleeping with Philip and then with the cute guy she did the Travis Wall performance with). No long essay how much I missed Mia Michaels. Nothing. I failed my fan.

I didn't write about all of the wedding planning hurdles and comedy. I didn't write about my last marathon. I didn't write about my favorite Thanksgiving foods. Nothing on how I wished Carrie Prejean would just shut up (really, if she gets to be a talking head, I should too! I have a head. I can talk about nothing coherent! Give me a shot!) Not even a syllable on Balloon Boy or the demise of Jon and Kate.

So I'm back. I'm not sure how much as I was few and far between before. I do have things to write about, though. My Kindle (LOVE it). My first time as a guest speaker on eating disorders. Dress shopping. Ron the wedding planner who doesn't use capital letters when he types. My quest for knock off Uggs before they are completely out of style. More ways I am becoming my mother. My reasons for believing that all people, regardless of their beliefs, should give Hillary Clinton's chocolate chip cookies a chance.

So here goes. Maybe tomorrow.

Wedding planning sucks

I really need to get better at this blogging thing. So much has happened in the past 13 days. First of all Josh asked me to marry him and I accepted. I thought when I told people, "Josh asked me to marry him" they would assume I said yes. I guess not. I have had at least 10 people then ask, "what did you say?!?!?". YES. Of course I did. This is my dream come true!

Until the planning starts. I'm 13 days in and I'm over it. Done. Finito. I am ready to go to the local court house. I know, I know. This should be a fun time and all that jazz. But if you know me, you know I don't handle vauge plans well. At all. Josh and I (and our parents) have been all over the board. Columbus wedding? Hometown wedding? Minneapolis wedding? Destination wedding? Vegas? When? Is January too soon? Fall of 2010 would be nice. What about spring break?

I am so done.

Let me just say I have never had visions of a princess wedding. I never imagined a horse drawn carriage or an elaborate marble hall with hundreds of people in attendance. Part of this is because when I was growing up, we never had much money. I knew from an early age that certain things were just out of my reach. I would get no new car at age 16. I would have to pay for my own college education. I would start my first part time job at 15. I was never angry over this, I just accepted it. So a wedding with thousands of fresh flowers, champaign, a string quartet and 10 bridesmaids was never in my head.

Plus, I went through more than one phase of I'm-not-lovable-no-guy-will-date-me-I'll-never-get-married-low-self-esteemitis. (You know you did, too. And therefore you also know there is no need to elaborate.)

Today I sit here engaged. My dream come true with an amazing guy. And I hate this planning crap. I know its "our" wedding and we should do what we want, but its also our parents' and family's celebration. If it was up to me, I'd destination. Key West on a beach or Napa Valley in a vineyard. Simple, small, easy. But would I be robbing my mom and Josh's mom of the wedding experience? This is both of their first weddings for children. My selfish side is at war with my people pleasing side. I have cried 3 times already.

Its so weird. I am happier than I've ever been, yet completely stressed out at the same time. Long story short. I just want to marry Josh. No frills, no big production. A wedding for us with our families and close friends. Why is that so complicated?

I'll post later about "Big Chuck Plans a Wedding". My father has been full of entertaining tidbits! Least of which is the sandwich debate. Stay tuned.

Inspirations

I thought it was time that I posted. Its been over 2 weeks now. Its not that I haven't had anything to say. Like Diana told Joe, "She's so full of random thoughts, her blog will be a good outlet for her. Josh is probably sick of hearing all of them!" I've had plenty of random thoughts, or as I tend to call them "wonderments". I just haven't blogged them.

I've also been in a much better state of mind the past two weeks. The 2 days off I was so worked up over in the last post were just the medicine and break that I needed. I was also reminded in the past few weeks of 2 people who inspire me beyond the words I can write about them.

Jimmy V. This past week was the annual Jimmy V Foundation fundraising auction on ESPN. Jim Valvano was a basketball coach (Rutgers, North Carolina State. Have you seen the sports highlight where NC State wins the Final Four and the coach can't find anyone to hug? That's Jimmy V). Jimmy V died in 1993 from cancer. He was the inaugural recipient of the Arthur Ashe Humanitarian Award at the 1993 ESPYs. The speech he gave is one of the greatest of all time. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you're emotions will be moved. In this speech he says, "Don't give up. Don't ever give up."

I watch this speech before all of my marathons (www.jimmyv.org). I remind myself with every step, "Don't give up. Don't ever give up." I have been extremely blessed in life with good health (I may have tendonitis, but I am disease free), as have my family and friends. I can't imagine facing something like cancer. I can't imagine how people like Jimmy V reach out and give the world an amazing gift in such a time of anguish. "Cancer can take away all my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever. " His speech, to me, is greatest of all time. Straight from the heart.

The second person is D.J. Gregory. Many may not know his name. They may have heard of the young man with cerebral palsy who walked the entire PGA Tour in 2008. Every event. Every hole. Thousands of miles. I had the opportunity to meet him in June when he was here walking the US Open qualifier my golf course hosted. I was in the middle of "woe is me. I have tendonitis and I can't run." Really, Kari? Selfish much? This man can't run. At all. But he walks as many miles as you run per year. Perhaps more. With a smile. With thankfulness. I have trouble remembering most days to be thankful. To take an inventory of all that I have and stop focusing on the one or two things I may not have. I have much, much more than I may deserve.

D.J.'s spirit shines so brightly. Please buy his book, "Walking with Friends". (You can find it in the sports section at your local Borders - my favorite store.) He is a wonderful person and couldn't have been any sweeter when I bombarded him with a camera and my oh-so-annoying personality (but at least I recognized him which is more than I can say when I met 2 running icons at the Boston Marathon Expo this year). He gives so much.

There are times I think that I don't have much to give. I don't have any disposable income. I would love to give thousands of dollars to my high school, to youth running groups, to eating disorder treatment programs for those who can't afford it. But until then, I can give in smaller ways. I can smile. I can give a compliment. I can hold a door open or help someone carry a large load of groceries. Its common courtesies. An ear to listen. A shoulder to cry on.

Jimmy V and D.J. are true heroes to me. Every day people who did, and are doing, what they can with what they have. Which is all any of can do.

Red, White and Walking

Its Friday night, July 3rd. Red, White and Boom night. "The Midwest's Largest fireworks" as it is advertised. We are not downtown. We are not fighting crowds or ingesting items that have been deep-fried. We did drink a beer or two. I decided to write tonight because I have something on my mind. I'm not sure if anyone else will understand this. My friends who have heard this rant before will most likely roll their eyes in a get-over-it gesture. I can't let it go.

My last post mentioned my current frustrations in life, or basically with my job. I decided that this weekend I would give myself a break. I am taking Saturday AND Sunday off. I am going to read books, watch TV, hit up Target, and, I don't know, maybe RELAX or something. At this moment, I am simply racked with guilt. Guilt that I have 2 days off in a row, that I'll be home while my friends are at work and I won't be a part of the "misery loves company".

Why though? Why should I be feeling so guilty about doing something nice for myself? For, God forbid, taking care of myself. Giving myself a mental break in the midst of my busiest season. An extra day to regroup, be alone, and just chill out. This is not a crime. This is in fact, pretty boring. Maybe sad. Yet I sit here with a churning stomach and down 2 fingernails.

This feeling is not new. My stomach used to churn and hurt daily. Anxiety is a common feeling for me. When I was in elementary school I had to stay home sick one day because I was too nervous for the science fair. I would waste summer days worrying about being an adult, what I would be like, would I be successful? Would boys like me? Would I be rich? Would I move somewhere else? Would I always be ugly and chubby?

The anxiety grew with me. High school brought fights with friends (low self esteem is a bitch), more worries about boys, bad decisions with my body and with my heart. College (all 6 years) was jam packed with anxiety and the solution I found for it: bulemia.

Anxiety cripples me. While you may see me still walking or running, still going to work everyday and continuing with every routine, inside I am a mess. Unable to trust myself. Questioning every look, every interaction. Each busy person is annoyed by me. Each short answer means someone is pissed at me. Every second shows me a new failure and why I suck at life.

So that bring us back to this moment on the couch. I feel like I'm failing because I am taking a personal day. I did something good for myself. But others are going to be resentful that I am not at work. They will be saying things like "Why did Kari get the weekend off? What's so special about her?". These negative demons are still in my head, still dancing in my stomach. I've done the therapy, I've watched my Oprah. I can say one thing in my head, but my stomach still turns. Prozac has helped calm the storms, but I am not numb.

I really hope that this weekend brings back my positive side. Believe me, I would much rather write things to make you laugh and brighten your day. I want to be a source of happiness for my friends - someone who makes them feel that their life is better because I am in it. I know my life is better because of each of you who reads this. Thank you for sharing this low moment (and the last one) . May higher moments come.

A long week

Its Saturday, 1:21pm. I'm in the same place I am every Saturday. Work. I'm done in 4 hours and 39 minutes. This week will be done. Over. Finito.

I thought last week was a long week. I planned a two day event for last Friday and Saturday and I really thought the days leading up to it would be long. Surprisingly, this week was longer. I don't know if its the "letdown effect" after such a busy, intense week or what. I was depressed this week. I couldn't shake my frustration, my bitter mood. I would wake up crabby, spend my day fuming, go to bed and lie awake angry.

But why? Its weird that when I'm angry or upset, I am mad at myself for being angry and upset. Why am I complaining about my job? At least I have one in these times. Its not a bad job either. My "office" overlooks a golf course, I am surrounded by beautiful flowers, I get free lunches, a clothing allowance, and I do work with some great people. So with all these blessings why the depression and frustration?

Its for the same reason that we get upset, marriages break up, people fall apart. Money. Here at my job, I am considered a department head, ok, co-department head. I oversee 3 areas and just finished planning a fundraiser that is outside my job description. I raised over $20,000 for this group. A for-profit, non charity. Yet, I (and my co) make the least of any of us. By over $10,000. By over $70,000 than my boss. I shouldn't know that, but I do. And it upsets me every day.

It upsets me because I feel that I am a team player. Maybe this blog makes me a non-team player. I have worked long hours, helped out in other areas (I served tables one day! I am waaay to klutzy to be a server). I worked months where others were off. Granted, I don't make the big time decisions. I buy clothes, sell memberships and do my best to make our members happy.

But I am so sick of living paycheck to paycheck. I have no savings, no backup fund. If I take a trip I either save all year for it, or have people give me money for Christmas and my birthday. If my grandfather passes away (he's in excellent health, but he's 94) I have no money to get home. I have a credit card, but I have to go into debt to go home. New shoes are a luxury to me. A new book is, some months, a luxury.

I'm not asking for much. I don't need a boat or an SUV. I don't want to buy designer clothing. I don't need a flat screen TV or a new laptop. I just want to live without worry. I want to be able to give my friend Katie a nice wedding present in August. I want to start a house fund for Josh and I.

Granted, I have credit card debt that is my own fault. I have a car loan and student loans to pay off. These are not the responsibility of my employer. But, dang it, when is it my turn to have a few nice things? When do I get paid for what I bring to my place of employment. I keep telling myself that I am young and I have time. But I am impatient.

If you value what I do, and by extension, value me...could you put a higher monetary value on it?

I'm not very good at this

Blogging that is. How long has it been since my last post? Weeks at least. But I only came up with one new reason that I am becoming my mother: I am now all about sunscreen. I used to try to be as tan as possible, believing it made me more attractive. I have since realized (ok...I have since found my first wrinkle) that I really would not like to look old before I have to. I'm knocking on the door of 30 and I will proudly wear my brand new big floppy hat. Even if Josh laughs at me.

I was a non-blogger for a while because I was super busy at work. I'll spare you the details, but I planned a 2 day event and the past two weeks I was swamped with last minute details, registration, and anal-retentiveness. I didn't have time at work to even check my personal email, let alone Facebook or Runners World. I would get home at night and just be on the couch with Josh.

I also (pun intended) got sucked into the Twilight series. I fought the hype as long as possible, but my "little sister" Brittany was reading it and I figured if it was good enough for a 10 year old, it was good enough for me. Long story short, I'm starting book 3, Eclipse, tonight. I will not, however, become a "Twilighter" or "Meyer-ite" or whatever they call themselves. I reserve my nickname worthy fandom for So You Think You Can Dance.

Which brings me to: Evan is still in! And his brother Ryan...has MADE IT TO VEGAS again, for the fall season. It is really sad that its the first day of summer and I'm happily planning my fall television viewing schedule.

Well, if any post was random, it was this one. But I just wanted to write. Now I need to read. Bella and Edward and Jacob are calling...

I am getting old

"I used to tease my mother about this until I realized it is hereditary" Jen Lancaster in Such A Pretty Fat

I am getting old. So old. Today's "I am old" moment came when I celebrating my impulse buy of a value pack of toothbrushes at Target yesterday. "What amazing foresight I have" I praised myself while brushing. At that exact moment, my lameness was staring me in the face, pink Oral B and all.

When did I go from celebrating staying up until 3am after drinking 8 vodka cranberries to celebrating a Friday night Target run?!?! I read the above quote from Jen Lancaster last night and it really resonated with me. I decided to make a list of how I am turing into my mother (and also father).

1. I cannot make a left turn while driving until there are no cars coming from either direction for at least a mile. Granted, I was in an accident in late April where a left turner pulled out in front of me, but I was like this before.

2. I now say to every child I see, "You have grown so much! How old are you now?" I used to HATE when my mom did this. I was so embarrassed at her inability to remember the ages of every student in the Glenville-Emmons school district. C'mon, Mom, there's only 500 kids in grades K-12! Now, they all grow up too fast and dress like whores (another topic for another day).

3. All I drink is soda in the Coke family. While Mom is a "Classic" drinker, I am a "Diet". This actually happened when I was 12. I should have seen the rest coming.

4. I buy toilet paper every week. Whether we need it or not. I refuse to run out. If there is a catastrophic disaster...my butt will be clean.

5. I can't handle the music the kids listen to these days. (But I do have a CD player in my car that I actually use)

Hmmm...maybe thats it for now. But at 28, it may be 5 too many.

Things my mother does I have thus far avoided:

1. Mixing all my liquid soaps together so I can use every. last. drop. I don't like mixing brands or scents. I will waste the soap.

2. Buying pepper so often I have 5 canisters of it in my cupboard. This is an inside joke (and not an exaggeration) from the time I was home and organized her cupboards. I only 2 in my cupboard.

3. Taking baths. I do take ice baths after long runs. They are 12-15 minutes long. Not 75-85. In a single bathroom home, this can present problems.

That's it for now. I'm sure I'll think of more and update this throughout the day.