Here’s the thing, My glass is half empty, but it will be alright. I already bought a second bottle of wine. I also have on hand the kind that you drink and lemonade if you’re a teetotaler. Some people would say that the person who sees the glass has half empty is a pessimist. I see it as a way to plan ahead.

When NBF told me that I was being too negative I really took it hard. I thought I’d been working hard to make sure that everybody had everything they needed. I was nearly killing myself keeping up with the hectic schedules. How dare he be so ungrateful?

Then, I listened to a similar perspective from some great friends, my best friend and a good friend, and I realized I may be a bit more of a realist than some of the people around me. I plan for everything. I get panicky if I walk in to a situation that is unfamiliar. I really don’t like to not be in control. I do like to be the go to person for answers.

So, I may over anlyze what needs to happen. And, I may doubt that everyone

Champagne glass (Photo credit: Adam Mulligan)

else will come prepared to the picnic. But, I’ve learned to enjoy all of the extra preparation that I put in to everything. You may say my glass is half empty, but I say there’s just room for more wine. And I’ve got it breathing on the counter already.

So, which are you, half empty or half full?

I read somewhere, recently, that not writing when you feel compelled is like watching a pressure cooker full of tomatoes explode all over the kitchen.  Well, that’s kind of how I feel lately – Like the tomato splatter is all of the words in my head and they just have to come out somewhere. With that in mind, I’ve been doodling and daydreaming and writing stupid two sentence poems all over my meeting notes.

In the land of playing with money, people don’t often scribble poems in the margin of the meeting notes. Mostly they take more notes in the margins of their notes all in the name of being better at playing with money. But, playing with money isn’t all that creative and doesn’t require constant focus for me to figure out the nuances. So, I don’t know that anyone has actually noticed that I have words, spattered like stewed tomatoes on a cieling, all over the margins of my pages.

I’m starting to notice that my words sometimes don’t actually go together to formulate comprehensive sentences. And, I lean heavily toward the dramatic. But, it feels very good to release the pressure and just write down words that I don’t often get to use in the land of playing with money. When I finally told MFH and OFM about my newly rekindled passion for writing, MFH reminded me that I could, <insert dramatic gasp here> start by blogging.

That brings me to now, I’m writing, albeit about absolutely nothing. But it feels really nice to get thoughts out of my head and see the words come together in a semi-coherent fashion.

I’m brought to the conclusions that 1. playing with money is a temporary profession and not my career, 2. pursuing a passion isn’t selfish, but can be done in the margins, and 3. I really like words.

What passion of yours do you practice in the margins of your ordinary life?

Image by Wm Jas via Flickr

Image via Wikipedia

Here’s another confession…. I’ve been struggling this week. Between the new inhaler (that does, indeed, help me breathe), the sickness and the moving, I’ve only worked out twice.

Once, I did use the EA Sports Active 2 and found it to be a good work out. I got really frustrated when the mechanism didn’t count all of my reps. I contend that it was like working out twice to get it to register, but that is not what I will log here today.

Today I will confess my short comings and admit that I need to try harder.

On a positive note, the princess has lost some weight. I’ve been packing lots of healthy stuff in everybody’s lunches and it seems to be making a difference. She hasn’t even really noticed that she’s been eating healthy.

And, I feel great that she had to ask what her friend was talking about tonight at dance when the little girl mentioned “ding dongs”. I’ll take that one in my win column.

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It occurred to me that the Princess doesn’t have any understanding of 9-11 or why we hold this day in our nation as one of rememberance. As she asked questions that I couldn’t answer. She wanted to know about the towers, the planes, the terrorists. She had so very many questions that I still don’t know how to answer. And then, she asked one final question, a question that touched my soul and resounds in my heart still. She asked, “Why do they hate us so much?”

How am I supposed to answer that? How can I explain something that I don’t understand myself? How can we as a nation think that we have the answers to this question?

It is nearly unfathomable to me to think that this event will be recorded in history books for her in the same way that the Great Depression is for me. The stories will all be told and the events recounted, but the emotion that I feel remembering that day will forever be lost on her.

As our nation still grieves 10 years later and the wounds still gape open, I wonder if we can ever get back to the unity that resulted from the tragedy on 9-11-01? Our politicians are more divided than ever, the citizens of my great nation are lost and wondering and we all look for hope and for answers to the questions my daughter asks.

I’ve done my best to answer her questions and provide her with a vague understanding of the events. I wish only that I  understood better myself.

How are you explaining the events to children who weren’t alive in September 2001?

Image by Getty Images via @daylife

Here’s the thing….I’ve wanted to lose weight forever. I’ve even pledged to the mamavation sistahood before. But, something happened this week, something scarry, something unbelieveably motivating. I accidentally saw myself naked when getting out of the shower. YIKES!

As if that weren’t enough, my dear friend had a heart attack this week. I’ve known him for 10 years, he teaches cycling at the gym twice a week. He’s active and not horribly overweight. He’s only 41 years old. That’s enough to scare me into making some changes. I’ll be making changes at the same time that CJ is making some life saving ones himself.

So, it’s time to do something about this. I’ve enlisted the help of a weight loss coach that is available to me through my health insurance and the coach from the local YMCA is really in my corner (she made me a mix cd to work out to). And, I’ve started a healthy eating plan for myself and the princess. So, I’ve got a few things going for me.

Working against me is: ME. I’m generally great at the start of a new regimine, but I slack off in the middle. So, I’m going to need help from the sistas. Lots of help..

I started thinking today about weddings. Specifically, I’ve been thinking that I’ve only ever been in one wedding. It was years ago when my best friend from the second grade got married after our high school graduation. That was maybe a 10 years ago or 15 (or something like that).

Am I such a bad friend that I’ve not been close enough to anyone else that they would ask? And, when all of the people who have been in weddings complain about all of the responsibilties, why would I feel like I’ve been denied the experience?

I know that it seems silly. I have a few close friends, most of which were married when I met them. So, it’s not like I’m lacking in social interactions. I just have to wonder what is it about me that keeps people at a distance?

Is it me that has prevented more friendships from deepening? I am incredibly guarded – as the fear of rejection keeps me from opening up too much.