NYE Resolutions!!!

After much debate over whether I should even make any I've decided on 5 attainable resolutions. In no particular order:

1)GRADUATE: because Kezia Schrag sounds cool but DR. Kezia Schrag sounds even better.

2)Relearn the splits--b/c I *used* to be able to to them and they're bound to come in useful (ha!)

3) Reach my goal weight: 21 lbs to go but lost 35 in a semester so a 21 in a year should be easy peasy.

4)Learn a lullaby. In Spanish. Because it's been requested.

5) Every day thank God for at least 1 thing because heavens knows there's 100+ a day for which I have to be thankful.

That's it! 2012 is going to have its ups and downs for sure (like every year) but if the first few weeks are any indication the rest of the year should be pretty freaking awesome....

Meine mutter ist die besten.

As of today I am 32 years old, at my driver's license weight, a size medium at the Gap (which is b/c they run super large now), growing my hair out a bit, in love with ice water, the Tier 1 of one of the best people I'll ever know, finishing up my doctorate, smitten, healthier than ever, and so much more. But above all of those trivial things I am officially 'friends' with my mother. And why should I not be? The advice she gave me tonight was not only exactly what I needed to hear but delivered with an intensity that made realize I had to take it [the advice]. If only I could have realized sooner that only my mom knows how I need to hear things....after all, she's the woman who raised me and to whom I owe my overwhelming satisfaction with life. So here's to you Mom, may 2012 be the start of getting to know you, getting to know all about you....getting to like you, getting to hope you like me.

And that's the truth.

I have only one Tier 1. Without whom, no one else matters.

Wayull.

I love people who no matter how short or long their stay in your life turns out to be, you'll always remember them.

I'll always love this:

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes of circus crowds
I've looked at life that way.

Oh but now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost but something's gained
In living every day.

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
Its life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all.

--Joni Mitchell

Dear women:

What the hell is wrong with us? After giving the question much thought I can honestly say I don't know where we went wrong but when do go wrong....it's really damn wrong. And I'll be the first to admit it! Years of reflection and falling out of love made me realize how much of myself I compromised when in luv with Mr. Garner. And that's just the tip of the figurative iceberg. I know women whose husbands/boyfriends/others cheated on them, openly and secretly; women whose H/B/Os beat them down in every possible way, physically, mentally, emotionally, the list goes on. And yet, here we are, 50 years after the 'second-wave' feminism movement and we're still putting up with this crap. Why?! How many excuses have we made, how many explanations have we reasoned and how many hopes have we gotten up thinking things would be different. There are GREAT men out there, my dad is evidence there are, but we have to find them and more importantly we have to accept that it could take a long time. A damn long time. Yet before the 'right' one comes along we must somehow understand what is going on in that head and heart of ours so that we can differentiate between the one that 'got away' and the one that 'got in the way'.

What is it that makes women feel it's okay to be hit by someone who 'luvs' them? Or that they shouldn't take the most extreme/drastic measures to be sure it doesn't happen again? What makes women think she's got to put a ring on it because it's unlikely anyone else will ever come along? Few women would maintain a loveless friendship but thousands maintain loveless 'romances' and for what? What is it about being in a romantic relationship that somehow makes a woman more fulfilled? Is it satisfying, of course, is it pleasant sure, does it increase my value as a lady, as Kezia Schrag, as a person? Hell no. Why are we cheating ourselves when deep within we know we deserve the very best. Does 'the best' include money, looks, prestige? By all means no but it does mean that we deserve to be treated as well as we expected to be treated by our very closest friends. I can't say what's gone wrong in other ladies' lives that caused any doubt in their self worth but as for Mr. Garner it's very simple. I didn't feel smart so I needed to be around someone who was smart. I wasn't confident about the knowledge I did possess so again, I sought it out in someone else. I wasn't sure about who I was or what I wanted so the appeal of someone who was sure about both was very high. And yet, when all was said and done here is what I know:

1) I am smart.
2) I possess skills Mr. Garner never will.
3) I am dateable enough that it can be public knowledge.
4) Mr. Garner is sooooo gay.
5) I would rather spend the rest of my life happily alone than settle for anyone less than my father.

Whether this is the same issue as anyone else, I'll never know. But I do know this--we women are amazing. We juggle more relationships in a year than men do in a lifetime. We have to coordinate way more clothes than they do and probably on a smaller budget. We can simultaneously exercise the strength of a man with the grace of a woman. We can diffuse a tense situation faster than the best bomb squad. We can work full time at home as a mother or be president of a company and everything in between. Studies show that women make better doctors, athletes, investors and politicians. So here's what I say: everyday we deserve the best. Every damn day. So fathers, help me out--be a good example, love your daughters the way she deserves, show her real men exist, and show her not through brute strength or power but through humility, gentleness and integrity. Mothers, love your daughters regardless of how different they are from you. Don't judge their weight, don't live vicariously through them, don't expect them to be something they're not. And above all, make wise choices of which you can one day be proud your daughter imitated. And girls, last but not least...if you're in doubt over a guy, imagine he's your best friend's boyfriend. If you're appalled by what he just said or did, dump him. Because if he wouldn't be good enough for your BFF, why the hell would ever be good enough for you?

wondering when

I'm wondering when I'll stop dwelling on so many unnecessary details. It's been all-consuming today and I wasted a perfectly good afternoon wallowing instead of working. I'm an adult and I'm content enough that I long for little else and yet little things just set me off today, what the crap. I'm no longer disgusted by the way I look or the size I am, though I should note I find it amusing when people comment that I'm skinny when technically according to my bmi I'm still obese, but whatever. I'm not desperate enough over how I play the piano to feel like I need to sound like an asian or win competitions or play perfectly so why does it get under my skin when others exceed my abilities or have the confidence to take chances I dare not. And I have so many friends I don't even know what to do with them so how come I find myself envious when I see pictures of you having a good time without me, especially since we can't even be in the same place at the same time anymore and even if we were I doubt it'd be the same. What gaping hole is inside me that has left me incapable of not only comfortably witnessing but also not enjoying the successes the people around me experience. I know I don't always feel like this, thanks be to God, but that even a brief stint can so easily cripple me is really disturbing. The good news is that one, I enjoyed a rigorous 70 minute workout to purge my body and my mind and two, I am even more motivated to blow this popsicle stand and by stand I mean Lawrence (and by Lawrence I mean Kansas, which means the midwest). There is a stirring in my heart and I hear the call of the northwest so please bless me Father with the means to return to where I belong. Or of course provide me with a rich husband, that would work too. Heh.