Growing Out My Bangs

There and Back

      Not even sure where to start on this one.  I had a variety of choices for this title, including "Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, I'm Schizophrenic and So Am I," "Mighty Mel My Ass," "Easy Come, Easy Go," and "I'm Gonna Beat the Crap Outta Dr. Fix-It."

      But "There and Back" seemed to be the best.

      This will be my last blog posting for quite some time.  Weird, right?  Who would've expected it after the week of pieces I've posted this week?  Certainly not me.  And I always thought I'd blog forever.  But after my session with Dr. Fix-It a bit ago, there are just certain changes that are necessary for me to move forward on this journey.

      Quitting blogging for awhile is one of those.

      See, I had a mini-meltdown this morning on the way to school out of nowhere.  Well, not out of nowhere actually.  Out of the whole reaction I was suddenly having to the cruise and all the shit that comes along with that childhood experience.  All of a sudden I wasn't feeling very mighty or neutral.  What the hell?!  I had been in balance moments earlier, hadn't I? 

      So I thought.

      But I realized that I couldn't be in balance until I finally got closure on the past and resulting residue.  I had to have my say, in effect, and move forward on my terms.  I've spent my whole life trying to keep the peace and make sure everybody else was happy, many times at the cost of my own self-esteem and growth.  I'd take directives without questioning them (like my brother telling me to not say anything and other situations that were similar to that), and that silence would slowly eat away at my sense of self-worth. I deserve better than that. And if I were truly to be able to continue in a healthy manner on this journey, I had to clear that negative energy.

      So I have to make changes.

      Big changes.

      Changes that support my spiritual health above everything else.

      One of those changes involves putting my energy someplace else other than this blog. 

      I have loved posting here daily and expressing everything that's been going on in my life.  I've loved knowing that some of you read my work every day, and I appreciate that so much.  Thank you, thank you for that. 

      But lately I think I've been using it as a crutch to not work on my books, particularly my GOMB one.  Maybe I was too afraid to finish that.  Maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself to make it a best seller, so I didn't make any progress on it.  And maybe I felt like if I stopped blogging I would disappoint the people who were faithful followers.

      People pleaser, remember?

      Well, after today's Dr. Fix-It session I realized that I am in a critical place in this lifetime, and I have to move forward on my own for awhile.  I may check in occasionally, but this is a very personal journey, and I'm going to need to keep it that way for now.  You gotta know how serious I am because this is blog post #917, and those numbers don't add up to any significant "universal number" that I know of. ;)

      I went into Dr. Fix-It's today a little unsure and not feeling really empowered.

      But I left feeling motherfuckin' mighty indeed!

      So thanks for stopping by for the past 3 and a half years.  It's been a blast, and I appreciate your support so much!

      xoxo, Melissa, Melis, M'liss, Mel

Mighty Mel

      My status update on Facebook the other day was "Mel is slipping into Mighty Mel mode.  Cue my theme song."  So my pal, Woody, sent me that photo clip above, and my good friend, Derek, added these words:

      Mister Trouble never hangs around
      When he hears this Mighty sound.
      "Here I come to save the day"
      That means that Mighty Mel is on her way.
      Yes sir, when there is a wrong to right
      Mighty Mel will join the fight.
      On the sea or on the land,
      She gets the situation well in hand.

     I had to laugh because I just love my friends and their support so much. (Go here for the full effect of the song.  I actually downloaded that to my phone as my new ringtone.)

      So why Mighty Mel?

       Well, ever since my breakthrough on Monday, I am simply feeling mighty.

      Mighty strong.

      Mighty aware.

      Mighty awake.

      Mighty loving.

      Mighty feisty.

      Mighty ready.

      Mighty Mel.

      It's a much different feeling than I've ever felt before.  I've had breakthroughs of sorts where I feel empowered and optimistic about my career and such, but this is quite unique.  It's much quieter and more peaceful.  Not so frenetic or forced.  Much more balanced.  More lasting, perhaps.  More real.  It's a space I've needed to get to for a long time and perhaps have fooled myself and others into thinking that I had already arrived.

      But I hadn't.

      Not until my moment of clarity on Monday.

      And now this peace.  This confidence.  This mightiness.

      It feels good to be here, and I can only hope it lasts.  I think it will because it was a huge mountain to climb, and the view is so beautiful I don't want to look anywhere else.  Writing about this particular experience may actually be the way I end my GOMB book because it really resolves so much of what I've been going through since I was a kid and the subsequent experiences I've had recently related to that. 

      We'll see.

      For now, I'm just enjoying feeling so mighty.

      So today I leave you with this.

      Genius.

Um...This May Be the Problem

      Have you all seen these new commercials for this all-action Verizon home phone?  There are a few of the ads,  but they all have the same message: you can do a  bunch of crap from this one home phone like text, look up info on the web, etc.

      Well, one ad is for a mom who is trying out a new paella recipe off the internet.  She texts her family to let them know that her new creation will be served at dinner.  Her snot-nosed teenage son videos texts back, "Um, Mom.  I don't know what pah-ella is, but no way am I eating it."   So the mom then calls for a pizza for him.

      Um...can we all spot the problem here?

      Really?

      You're a hard-working mom trying out a new recipe for your family, your crappy-attituded kid tells you he's not eating it, so you cater to him and order a pizza?

      THIS IS THE PROBLEM WITH KIDS TODAY, PEOPLE!!!!!

      When I was a kid, had I told my mom to take her recipe and shove it, I wouldv'e either:

      a:  worn the damn paella or

      b:  gone starving in my room after being beaten with the belt

      Now, I'm not saying the belt was necessarily the best choice (though I'm all for spanking..yep...bring it on, hippie-ass, "let's role play" parents), but being sent to my room without dinner for being disrespectful certainly was a reasonable consequence.

      Kids today have far too much say in decisions that they shouldn't, in my opinion.  I've heard countless parents in grocery stores and restaurants asking their kids, "What do you want, Honey?  Do you want the pizza?  Pasta?  Would you rather just have dessert?  What will it take to get you to stop whining?  I'll give you anything.  ANYTHING.  Would you rather go to another restaurant, Sweetie?  What would please you?  Do you want a candy bar?  Two candy bars?  A new puppy?  Whatever you want since I want to be your friend and not your parent."

      For God's sake.

      I think the Verizon people really missed the mark on this ad.  I think it should be re-written this way:

      "Is there a phone that allows you to look up a new recipe for paella, text your family to let them know what time dinner is, then order a professional thug to whip your son's ass when he mouths off and says he's not trying any pah-ella?  Now there is.  Verizon.  Can you hear me now, bitch?"

     

Let the Webisodes Begin

      So, we are launching our new website on May 1st, complete with paying advertisers (!), but we're putting some good stuff up now while we ready that. 

      Enjoy this video blog in the meantime.

The Trifecta of Fitness

      OK.  Not even sure what this picture is, but I snagged it off a body-building site, so I figured it works for this post.  Still, it looks very steroidal to me!

      Anywho, here I am mid-week in my training, and I have to say it's going pretty well.  I do believe my body is starting to cooperate with me, and each day the running has been getting better.  Not necessarily more enjoyable, but definitely better.

      The trick for me is to get my mind off running when I'm running.  If I focus on something else, it does seem to go more quickly and painlessly.  'Course, if I'm truly to master the trifecta of physical, mental and emotional fitness, I need to concentrate on the right things when I'm out there. 

      Left alone with just my thoughts can be an exercise in frustration and over-thinking.  I may worry about this or be bummed about that.  I don't think that's in my best interest.  So, I have to be sure to keep my mind on positive things, like finishing my books, turning the corner with our sketch comedy show, and finding that place of inner peace.

      Oh!

      And sometimes I will play a game I made up called "Guess That Sidewalk Stain."

      It's actually quite hypnotizing and captivating.  As I watch the ground pass underneath me, I will always come across unusual stains along the way.  Is it a dropped ice cream cone?  Goose crap?  Blood from a homicide?

      The possibilities are endless, really!

      Then I start making up a story.  "Once upon a time a half-marathon trainee saw a goose on the bike path.  Out of pure frustration and exhaustion, the runner screamed at the goose, 'GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!!'  The poor goose crapped itself right then and there."

      Or...

      "Once upon a time, a half-marathon trainee was out running with her husband coach.  She decided she'd like to reward herself for all her hard work by buying an ice cream cone as she ran past the ice cream man.  Her husband scolded her for breaking her training program, even though he can eat a thousand ice cream cones without gaining an ounce.  So, the runner killed him with her pedometer, spilling his blood and the ice cream on the path."

      You know.  Little stories like that to keep my mind occupied.

      If that's not doing the trick, then I really do try to clear my mind and meditate a bit.  My pal, Missy, mentioned this in a comment a few days ago, and it got me thinking that I need to put it into practice even more.  So, I've been trying that as well.  It's not necessarily as entertaining as "Guess That Sidewalk Stain," but it is a good idea.

      Well, on Monday's run I decided to give the meditating trick a go.  And the most incredible thing happened:  I saw a situation I had been wrestling with for awhile so freaking clearly for the first time that I was blown away.  It was the moment I had been waiting for, and my mind went, "Oh shit!  Duh! This is how it really is!" rather than seeing it like I wanted to see it which is what I had been doing.  And I really got that no matter how many people try to make you see something or how many ways they try to make you see it, until you're ready, it's simply not going to happen.

       Apparently I was finally ready on Monday.

      And just in time because tomorrow I am going to see Dr. Fix-It.  I haven't been in well over a month and a half, and I initially made the appointment just to check in.  Can I tell you how happy I am that I won't need to be droning on about the shit that has held me for so long now?   I swear I finally got the resolution I needed on that run, so now I can just check in on life in general.  Yes, I'll bring up the cruise thing, but I'm truly not worked up over that.  Amused, but not worked up.

      So, there may be more to this whole running thing than just firming up my ass.

      Seems my soul and spirit are shaping up nicely as well.

Cruisin' for a Bruisin'

      OK.  Couldn't resist posting this update. 

      So, my oldest brother's wife reads my blog.  (I know this from emails she's sent my mom that my mom accidentally forwarded to me.)  I am certain she read the one below about the cruise and noticed I said they'd never go on the cruise.  Sooooooo...

      I got an email from her essentially stating the following:

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      We would be so very happy to join in on this family time together.  I have been looking forward to meeting everyone in the Mason's family for a long time.  We are very open on the dates anytime works for us!!!!!

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      Could you die?!  Now, Mason didn't respond, and I'm sure they're not really going.  She's a master mind-effer (let's not forget she posed as my mother for a long time sending me shitty emails), and I'm sure she's just saying this to try to ruffle me.

      But again, I just have to laugh.  If they do show, I may just need to open the first dinner conversation with, "So, now that we have you captive and you can't skirt the issue any longer, why'd ya molest me for 3 years and force Nelson to join in for the first year?"

      You know.  The usual cruise conversation.

      Just kidding.

     I'm sure I'd be the bigger person and just understand whom I'm dealing with and mind my manners for my mom's sake.  And perhaps this is the Universe providing me with a way for closure.  I have to hope I've come far enough in my healing that I would be fine.  More than fine.   I'll run that by Dr. Fix-It at my appointment on Thursday.

      Hoo boy.  This is an interesting journey alright.

     

Cruisin'

      I had an interesting conversation with my mom the other day.

      She was feeling sad about not having any family around her and told me she'd really like for all of us to go on vacation again sometime.  (Gav, the kids and I had gone with my brother, Nelson, and his wife with my mom on a Disney cruise several years ago.)  She said she wants to go on another cruise, this time for a week, this summer.

      Well, financially this just isn't feasible for us right now, nor is it for Nelson and his family.  When I told my mom that, she said she would pay for the whole thing.  But I didn't want her to think that the only way we would go on vacation with her is if she paid.  (Having had her up twice this past year, that should be obvious, but I don't want to leave anything open for misinterpretation.)  So I told her that, and she assured me she wanted to do it.

      Interestingly enough, I am still in such a neutral place with our relationship that I truly can see us going on a vacation with her and having a good time.  Yes, some things would push my buttons.  But I know how much it would mean to her as well as to my kids, and I can put my own issues aside to allow for this moment.  And I think with my new attitude towards it all, it'd be really good for me, too. 

      So I told her we would start looking at dates to see what might line up for us.  That's when she added, "I'm inviting Mason and Betty, too."

      *Needle scratch and the room goes silent*

      Now here's how far I've come in my own growth and therapy: hearing that didn't even piss me off.  I actually understood why she was asking them (she wants her whole family together regardless of the history and still can't see why that could be an issue) and found it funny.  Now, I know they will never agree to come on this cruise.

      But can you imagine if they did?!

      How weird would that be?  And how awkward?  Can you imagine that first moment when we all step onto the ship together and get the "Welcome Aboard" family photo?  But again, it honestly doesn't make me angry.  I find myself giggling at it.

      Holy crap!!  Isn't this a miracle?  Had you asked me a year ago when Betty was posing as my mom and sending me crappy emails if I ever thought I'd be in such a neutral, compassionate place, I would've told you all you were nuts.

      Yet here I am.  Not getting lit up, not holding onto the past and not being angry or bitter.

      Simply cruisin'.

     

Game of Inches

      I've always thought of this term in relation to football.  But as I researched the photo for this post, I discovered that it has been used in all kinds of sports.  That makes sense, of course.  An inch can mean the difference between a foul and fair ball in baseball.  And inch can mean the difference between first and second place in a race.  And an inch can mean the difference between hitting the net or scoring an ace in tennis.

      Well, as I did our bills this weekend, I realized that life is also a game of inches.

      See, we had some pretty hefty bills to pay this weekend, including what we owed our accountants for doing our taxes and our property tax bill.  There was also my car payment along with our mortgage and homeowners' dues. 

      When I got finished paying them, I took a deep breath and told Gav, "Well, we made it through this month, and we still have a bit left over." 

      And I was relieved.  I didn't allow myself to future-trip and wonder about next month or the next month.  I was just grateful and happy that we are OK for right now.

      Inches.

      This is how it's done, I think.  Day by day, inch by inch.  You scrape together what you need to in order to gain that crucial ground.  On 4th and inches, the QB is not going to go for a Hail Mary.  He's gonna call upon his team to push forward to gain just what he needs to get them in the clear for that coveted first down. 

      And then maybe they'll go for the long bomb and the spectacular gain.

      That's where we are at the moment.  Gav is picking up days working as a medic at our local horse track, and I was just chosen to run a homework club two days after school.  Neither of these extra jobs will earn us a financial windfall, but they're gonna give us a little breathing room.  I'm also continuing to strive forward with all my projects, and I'm gaining some ground there as well.

      Inches.

      We're marching down the field.  We're gaining ground.  We're putting our heads down and doing what we need to to advance the Aubert team.   The end zone is in sight, and together we are heading towards victory.

      One

      inch

      at

      a

      time.

Say "No Cheese!"

      Yesterday I was supposed to be up to a mile and 3/4 in my training, so Gav and I got up early and ran the bike path by our house.  To my surprise, we did 2.2 miles!

      Well, so far I have a love-hate relationship with this whole running thing. 

      I hate doing it and love when it's over.

      Actually, it's not that bad, but some days are definitely harder than others.  And there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why one day is easier than the next.  Last week I ran two days in a row, a mile and a half each day.  The first day was totally fine, but the second day just sucked.  I was checking my pedometer every tenth of a mile it seemed, and it took FOREVER to reach 1.5!  But yesterday was actually quite enjoyable, and I ran way longer, so go figure.  Hopefully soon, I'll hit that "runner's high" every time I go out.

      But in the meantime, here's a fabulous benefit of getting my arse out on those runs 4 days a week:  said arse is getting pretty darn firm, my friends!  And the gift of cellulite that was bestowed upon the backs of my thighs when my kids were born is actually starting to disappear.  Not completely yet, of course, but it's definitely less noticeable.

      And no!  I'm not looking at myself with the lights off, and I haven't gone Hollywood and hired a professional airbrusher. 

      I think I'm actually running off some of the cheese!

      I've also lost a few of the 5 pounds that I put on the first week I started training, but I'm not so worried about the number anymore because I can tell my body is responding positively by the way my clothes are fitting.  Mostly looser.

      But here's the funny thing: as my arse firms up, it's starting to resemble a ball pitch in baseball: high and tight.  This is causing a different fit in my pants.  Now I'll take it, for obvious reasons.  But it is taking some getting used to.

      See, I've always had quite the bubblicious booty.  Been that way since I went through puberty and cranked out some curves.  When I was running track in high school, I could've served drinks off that bad boy butt shelf.  But as the years have gone by, and I've gotten a tad...ahem...softer, my buttocksal region has shifted a tad south.

      Well, as I approach week 4 of training, my trunk o' junk is making its way north again!  I feel like I'm winning the Civil War all over again in my pants!  Victory for the North!!  Let the bodacious bah-donk-a-donks be free!!

      Now I know for sure that I'm growing a fab apple bottom because for my whole life I have been appreciated by the brothers.  And usually once I walk by them.  Well, that hasn't happened in the past year or so, and I'm blaming it on my flatter posterior. 

      But brothers be warned:  the bubble is back, baby!

      Case in point: on Friday I walked past some construction workers by my school.  There were three white guys and one black guy.  They all said hello, I said hello back and added, "How are you guys doing?"  Well, the white guys kind of eeked out a mumbled "Fine," but my boy gave me a "Better now that you're in front of me.  Mmm, mmm, MMM!" 

      When I turned around, his eyes were nowhere near mine.

      I couldn't help but smile and be grateful.  I said, "Thanks, man.  Kinda feels like home, doesn't it?"

      He cracked up, and I was on my way.

      So yeah.  I still struggle some days with the whole running thing.  But knowing I'm firming up and losing some of those not-so-adorable dimples, while easing race relations at the same time, makes it all worthwhile.

 

(click on that picture and read the print.  It's a great ad for Nike women!)

     

Heart attack, ack, ack, ack, ack, ack

      Even Billy Joel is shocked by this article:

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GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. — Well, at least the salsa is low-cal. The West Michigan Whitecaps, a minor league baseball team, will be offering up major league cholesterol, carbohydrates and calories in an enormous hamburger being added to the menu this year at the Fifth Third Ballpark.

      The 4-pound, $20 burger features five beef patties, five slices of cheese, nearly a cup of chili and liberal doses of salsa and corn chips, all on an 8-inch sesame-seed bun. That's a lot of dough!

      The Grand Rapids Press reports that anyone who eats the entire 4,800-calorie behemoth in one sitting will receive a special T-shirt. Saner fans can divide it up with a pizza cutter and share.

      The Midwest League team is a Class A affiliate of the Detroit Tigers.

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      Where to begin?  Well, how about with this website, which is where I first spied this catastrophic caloric culinary colon-blocker.  While I'm certain that website is intended for entertainment, I am sadly aware that people are actually creating and consuming that crap.  And now one of the creations has become an item on the menu at a baseball park in the Midwest.  To add insult to injury, they're actually offering a prize to anyone who can finish it by themselves in one sitting. 

      A t-shirt boasting of this feat.

      I'm guessing they're only printing up size XXXXXLs on those.

      People...what the hell?  We have become the fattest country in the world, and we wear it on our chests like a badge of honor, right next to the spilled pizza grease and wayward chocolate milkshakes.   Do we really need to encourage Americans to be less healthy?!  I think we're doing a fine job of that on our own without having to come up with monster burgers and pizzas topped with corndogs!  Childhood obesity is on the rise and "The Biggest Loser" has been renewed for 10 more seasons.  (OK, I made that up, but I wouldn't be surprised.)

      I'm not saying we have to go all tofu and organic.  I'm down with a burger and fries every once in awhile.  But for God's sake, use some frigging portion control!  When a burger weighs more than 3 of the Octomom's babies put together, we've got a problem, folks.

      And call me crazy, but I'd think that we'd want to get folks to the ballpark to watch a game to inspire them to want to get active themselves.  Offering them one burger that counts for 2 whole days' worth of calories seems a tad counter-productive, doncha think?

      So yes...take yourselves out to the ballgame, folks.  But for criminy's sake, stick with just the peanuts and Cracker Jacks already, or chances are...you'll never get back!