Eight Random Things About Me:
1. I spend more time on the internet at work than I probably should. I believe that if I can get my work done and double and triple check the stuff.. and I have time left over, there is no reason why I can’t check out amazon.com or flip through Craigslist categories.
2. When I get home, what I love the most… is seeing my dog “Bella” get so excited that her “momma” is home that she completely loses all couth and is a rule breaking maniac for a few moments, and then she comes running up to me, sits at my feet and looks at me with her brown eyes, and my days troubles are gone.
3. One of these days I want to become an adoption facilitator. I want to have something to do with adoptions. That is the one thing that I know in my heart that I am meant to do. Whether it is finding my “soul” child through adoption, or helping others bring home their “soul” child. Grace, a child that I had in my class a while ago, was adopted from China. This child amazed me, and she and I developed a bond. It is her story that got me into wanting to have a hand in making sure Children get to where they need to be.
4. I love flowers. But not just any flower. I would rather have a bundle of wild flowers picked from someone’s yard, instead of the ones that were purchased at the store. I’d like to think that someone thought of me when they saw flowers in someone’s yard and thought that I would enjoy them, instead of “Oh crap, I forgot to bring something, I need to run to the store and get some flowers!”.
5. I can be having the crappiest day at work… where nothing goes right, I can’t seem to get the answers that people want and/or need. But the minute that my boss or someone that I’ve helped tells me that I’m doing a good job… That makes it all seem worth while. I love it when a customer finally gets to me (I’m the end of the line) and they are so frustrated, and then they tell me that I’m the brightest person they’ve talked to all day…. That makes my job that much easier to handle.
6. My friends Chris and Jesse have two adorable children that melt my heart. Their son calls me “Auntie Christie”, and when their daughter is old enough to speak, she will call me Auntie Christie as well. I am VERY proud to be their “Auntie”, and it is something that I will cherish forever. I feel so honored to be a part of their lives.
7. I LOVE my Honda accord. It is the greatest little car. I know I will need to get a new car, quite possibly within the next year, but I secretly want to hold on for dear life to my little white Honda accord that has seen me through the craziest challenges of my life. I may not take care of it like I should, aside from the maintenance on it, but my little white Honda accord and I have an understanding. It keeps me safe, and I fill her tank, get her inspected, get her oil changed, get her tires rotated. I mean really… Who can put a price tag on safety???
8. I want a day just for me. I want to be able to take one full day, and not have any obligatory scheduling, not have to go and do anything, but maybe go see a movie, go take the dog to the park, go to a spa and have a massage. I’d LOVE to take a hot bubble bath in a huge Jacuzzi tub and read my book and listen to Enya. I’d love to just “be”.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Stuffed Sausage anyone?
How pathetic of me is it that the one thing that sparks an idea for a Blog post for me is seeing someone that looks like a stuffed sausage in their clothes? I was walking up to get my coffee from the cafeteria and in front of me was walking a girl who just looked SUPER uncomfortable, but was trying to act like she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her pants showed every crease in her legs, and buttocks, and her shirt was the tightest one I’ve seen in quite some time. She was wearing a jean jacket shrug that seemed to have a little room in it, but not by much. She was short, and didn’t appear to be a large girl, but when you stuff yourself in your clothes like that, it makes you look a lot heavier than you are.
I’m not the plus sized fashion guru by any means, however, I do know that when you wear clothes that fit your body as well as your body type, you look and feel slimmer than you really are. I know I have a few outfits that aren’t so flattering on me. I wear them because they are my “clothes of last resort” when my others are in the wash.
I like to think that I dress pretty darn well for being a plus sized woman. I get compliments on my clothing quite frequently, and it’s not because I pay attention to the trends, it’s because I pay attention to my body. I know what looks good on me, and what does not. However, there are some plus sized women that think it is okay to walk out there in the size 12 pants and size medium shirt that do NOT fit their size 20 waist and their size xl top. These would be the same people who where bikinis when they are over a size 16. I’m sorry…. That’s just not appropriate…. Regardless of if you feel sexy in it…. In the house is one thing, in the public, is another. Is that wrong of me to say? Is it horrible for me to criticize my fellow plus sizers out there?
I’ve got a long ways to go before I get to my ideal weight. I know that I don’t want to look like a stuffed sausage in my clothes. With Thanksgiving on Thursday, I’m preparing myself mentally to realize, I can’t gorge myself on Meema’s dressing, and I can’t chow down on that delicious homemade potato salad of hers. I can have it in moderation though. I’m not going to drink sweet tea… Which sounds easy…. But you haven’t tasted my Meema’s sweet tea!!! I will have a glass of unsweetened tea with splenda in it. So it won’t be terrible, but if I get through Thursday… I have a feeling, I’ll be able to get through Christmas as well!
Temptation is definitely not a fun thing to have dancing in front of your face…. As long as I can tell that temptation to shut the *BLEEP* up…. I’m going to survive. :-)
I Know this blog was a little scattered for the time being, but I just don’t want to be the stuffed turkey in my clothes, and I don’t want to look as though I’ve forced my fat butt into something that is four sizes smaller than me.
So if you see me around and I looked like I’ve stuffed myself in clothing that is too tight, please stop me, tell me to go back to the house, and change my clothes and put on something that fits.
“Don’t make a promise when you are in joy. Don’t reply when you are sad. Don’t take decision when you are angry. Think twice, Act Wise!”
I’m not the plus sized fashion guru by any means, however, I do know that when you wear clothes that fit your body as well as your body type, you look and feel slimmer than you really are. I know I have a few outfits that aren’t so flattering on me. I wear them because they are my “clothes of last resort” when my others are in the wash.
I like to think that I dress pretty darn well for being a plus sized woman. I get compliments on my clothing quite frequently, and it’s not because I pay attention to the trends, it’s because I pay attention to my body. I know what looks good on me, and what does not. However, there are some plus sized women that think it is okay to walk out there in the size 12 pants and size medium shirt that do NOT fit their size 20 waist and their size xl top. These would be the same people who where bikinis when they are over a size 16. I’m sorry…. That’s just not appropriate…. Regardless of if you feel sexy in it…. In the house is one thing, in the public, is another. Is that wrong of me to say? Is it horrible for me to criticize my fellow plus sizers out there?
I’ve got a long ways to go before I get to my ideal weight. I know that I don’t want to look like a stuffed sausage in my clothes. With Thanksgiving on Thursday, I’m preparing myself mentally to realize, I can’t gorge myself on Meema’s dressing, and I can’t chow down on that delicious homemade potato salad of hers. I can have it in moderation though. I’m not going to drink sweet tea… Which sounds easy…. But you haven’t tasted my Meema’s sweet tea!!! I will have a glass of unsweetened tea with splenda in it. So it won’t be terrible, but if I get through Thursday… I have a feeling, I’ll be able to get through Christmas as well!
Temptation is definitely not a fun thing to have dancing in front of your face…. As long as I can tell that temptation to shut the *BLEEP* up…. I’m going to survive. :-)
I Know this blog was a little scattered for the time being, but I just don’t want to be the stuffed turkey in my clothes, and I don’t want to look as though I’ve forced my fat butt into something that is four sizes smaller than me.
So if you see me around and I looked like I’ve stuffed myself in clothing that is too tight, please stop me, tell me to go back to the house, and change my clothes and put on something that fits.
“Don’t make a promise when you are in joy. Don’t reply when you are sad. Don’t take decision when you are angry. Think twice, Act Wise!”
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sweet Reesie....
"People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life - like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?" The six-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."
I just got an email that had this quote in it and it struck up an idea on a blog. I don’t write much about Reesie. Reesie was the dog I found on Petfinder.com, and knew instantly that she was mine and that I was hers. I adopted two dogs that day, but Reesie and I connected a little differently. I knew she needed me, and I desperately wanted her. The ride home from Camden, SC (about an hour drive) was a long one. I had put them both in a crate, and Reesie ended up getting car sick about half way there, in the middle of nowhere. I had to pull the car over in an abandoned parking lot, and get her out, and clean it up enough to get us home. Reesie lept from my arms, and started to run away. She got about 250 yards away from me, and I was calling after her. I was begging her to at least give me a chance. I was being as gentle and as calm as I could, and coaxed her back, using the name the shelter had given to her (“Butterbean” aka “Butters” and/or “Beans”). She stopped dead in her fast walk, as if to say… “Wait a minute”, and she turned around, and looked at me, and came running back. She chose me! She could have run into the woods and been afraid of me. She didn’t have to stop and turn around. She didn’t have a leash on her. Instead, she came back and allowed me to love her.
The first week I had her home, she slept the majority of the time. I changed her name the same day I adopted her. I had brought the dogs over to my parents house, and Mom and I were sitting in the back yard on the swing. We were going through names, and I said “Well, she has the coloring of a Reeses Peanutbutter cup.” The minute I said Reeses.. her large gorgeous ears perked up, and she came to me. She liked the name Reesie. And there she was named.
Reesie was a peculiar looking dog. She had wired fur, a long snout, a curly q tail, skinny mini legs, and ears larger than her head. Her eyes were dark and beautiful. The wired hair was a shiny black and with a good bath and conditioner, it was beautiful too. The long snout loved to wake me up in the morning, by sticking that snout in my ear and letting out a “Snffh”, I woke up instantly. The minute I would open my eyes, her adorable curly q tail would go around in circles, and she would gently tap my head with her skinny mini legs with the dainty little paw attached to them. Reesie was beautiful! She had so much to offer the world. She loved with every bit that her little body would allow her to. She was so devoted to me, and I to her. She taught me to think of another living being other than myself. (She and Bella both did!) She taught me that great things do come in small packages. She also taught me that no matter how small, confidence will prevail.
Reesie was and is an angel. No matter how tragic her death, that little dog loved with her whole being. I am in no way saying that any of my pets were better than the other… I have always loved my animals very much. I’ve had a different bond with each of them. However, I had a very unique and special bond with Reesie.
So now, Reesie is somewhere over the rainbow bridge and with her brothers before her. She had more important things to accomplish up there, and I know that I will forever be grateful that she allowed me to be her “mom”.
RIP Reesie!!
Adopted 02/19/2005- 04/28/2006
This is the first time I saw her! She knew she was going "Home"!
Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure
ecstasy.
Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.
Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you're not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them
gently.
Be always grateful for each new day.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
That's my STORY and I'm Sticken To It!
I told you all last week that I would tell you the story of my ADD. It has taken me some time to completely understand that having ADD has made me who I am today. I warn you ahead of time, this is long, but well worth it!
Growing up, I was never what one would consider the “Academic” type. I did very poorly and never made the grades that my friends and siblings did. I was the quiet, shy, sweet natured girl who sat in the back of the class to avoid getting called on. It was my way of trying to be inconspicuous. I have never been the “organized” neat freak, and I probably never will be. I was tested for learning disabilities at the recommendation of teachers and administrative officials at my junior high school. I just wasn’t doing well, and because I “Looked” smart, it was expected that I would be brilliant in the world of academia. The psychiatrist who tested me, while, generally sweet, put me in a small testing room; gave me a pencil and a book full of activities to complete. All of the “test” questions seemed to lean on the “creative” side. I have a very creative brain, and was able to come up with creative answers to those test questions. After the series of tests, the psychiatrist called us and wanted to meet with us. I chose not to go, because I didn’t want to know if I would be “LD”. Well, instead, my parents went, and came back with the kiss of death answer. (This is NOT in anyway my parents fault… this was the psychiatrist who didn’t go further into testing) I was completely normal with an “above average” intelligence. My brain leans towards the “creative” thought process (really.. No kidding!!). So the psychiatrist confirmed what the teachers had been telling everyone… That “Christie just didn’t want it bad enough.”, “It’s just being Lazy.”, “She’s a Daydreamer”. Those words haunt me still. The truth is, I did want it bad enough. I mean, really, who in the hell wants to fight with their parents every time a progress report comes out or a report card comes out, and there is a D or an F on there? Why would I put myself through the torture of upsetting my parents like that? I would make A’s and B’s in art classes, English classes, and electives, but only because those are my strong points, they allowed my brain to work to it’s advantage.
Well, High School brought on new challenges, none of them too devastating. My Junior year brought on an opportunity to do a group research paper. Our group selected Attention Deficit Disorder. My section of the paper was to research the symptoms of ADD. I found very little research on this, due to the fact that ADD was just starting to be recognized globally. What I did find, were definitions of what my life was like. It wasn’t just your classic text book symptoms, these symptoms defined me! After the project was completed, I took my knowledge home, and got up the courage to actually ASK my parents to be tested for this. They thought that I had been tested for ADD already, and so they declined it. I kept pushing, and upon my persistence, they agreed to get me tested in the fall of 1996.
I remember the day very clearly. September 29, 1996, it was raining, and my mother and I were called back to the doctors office and asked to sit down in two chairs that faced his desk. My folder sitting there with my name on it opened to a diagnosis sheet. I remember that he started off by talking about recommendations, and frontal lobe differences etc…. I remember specifically asking him to stop, and proceeded to ask him “So you mean, I have this?” and he nodded and said “Indeed you do!”. The moment he said that, this boulder that had been sitting on my shoulders since I entered grade school, began to lift off of me. I wasn’t lazy, I wanted it bad enough, and I wanted to prove to everyone that I was not stupid! I got a euphoric sense of relief the minute the diagnosis was handed to me.
The ride home was somewhat somber, and I looked over at my mom, and she had tears in her eyes. She kept saying she was so sorry, and kept asking the dreaded “What If” questions. “What if you would have been diagnosed earlier?”, “What if we could have changed these learned behaviors to help you?”… I looked at her, and said that this diagnosis was NOT a bad thing, and that they can’t blame themselves! They did what they could to find out what was wrong with me. They never expected the same things from one child to the next. They had individual expectations for all of us, which I think helped me in the long run. They did what they thought best at the time, with the information they had received from various different individuals. I know that was a blow to my parents, however, I’m thankful that we finally had an answer!
I was put on Adderall (this was prior to the XR), and life seemed to fall into place. My senior year in High School was one of my best. I got a main roll in a play, I did very well on my Senior Exit Project, I wrote my own play, and I developed friendships that have lasted me into adulthood, and I scored pretty well on my SAT. Graduation Day, I got my diploma, and when I went to meet my parents after the ceremony, I cried.. I cried hard. No one really understood what that diploma meant to myself and my parents. No one really knew the struggles that I had encountered along the way. That diploma stood for every teacher that told me that I did not want it bad enough! It stood for every teacher that believed in me, and encouraged me along the way.
I decided to go to Community College and do a transfer program. This allowed me to stay on track with things, and allowed me to transition easier into a mainstream college atmosphere. After two years of community college. I was accepted into my dream school. Really, one of the only schools that I really applied to! I was to become a student of Appalachian State University. My first semester there, I did great! I was on a roll, and second semester, I did okay, still not 100%, but better than most! I lived in the dorms, and had a great roommate. The atmosphere of ASU was amazing! I loved it up there! My second year there, I moved into an apartment with three other roommates. I don’t know what caused my downward spiral, but I hit a wall. All of the euphoria of the diagnosis had worn off, and I remember sitting in my room in my apartment, crying. I used to hide away in my room, and just not come out. Everyone wondered why, but I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t even know why.
That summer, I decided to attend summer school, but even that didn’t do anything for me. I decided to come home and go to community college again, and figure my life out. I failed miserably. The depression hovered over me, and I was MISERABLE! 9/11 occurred, and I felt guilty for being so down, because all of these people had just lost loved ones, and the country had lost so much, and here I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself. I stopped taking Adderall because I stopped getting the results I saw when I first started taking the meds. January of 2002, I decided to change doctors, and seek out a counselor. I saw the counselor first, and the minute I sat down on the couch, she asked me how I was doing, and the tears just came from somewhere deep inside of me. I allowed myself to be vulnerable in order to heal. That was the best decision I have ever made. I was diagnosed with Depression, and turns out, the original dose of medicine given to me, was far below what I should have had. My new doctor put me on 40 mgs daily of Adderall XR.
I ended up getting a great job at a daycare, and when life felt like it was getting better, I decided to go back to school at ASU. The summer of 2003, I went back to Boone, NC and started taking classes. I did great with my summer classes, which geared me up for the Fall semester. That when it all hit me again… School was not my strong point, and I was too old for the “College” lifestyle, that just about everyone in Boone lives. Somewhere in those 2.5 years I had been gone, I grew up. I learned lessons, and I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t want. So Fall of 2003 was my last semester in Boone, NC. I came home, and found an EXCELLENT job that I am still at, and I love it. I don’t regret not finishing up school. I have so many different classes under my belt, that one of these days, I can go back for 2 years and I could have three degrees. I don’t think I’m to that point yet though.
My story is never ending. For the people who told me that I was lazy, and who told me I didn’t want it bad enough, and that I just wasn’t made for it…. Guess what… I’m thanking you in this post! If it weren’t for you… I don’t know if I would have tried so hard to prove you wrong. I use your words for ammunition whenever I come across something that myself or others think that I can’t do…. I do it! My failures in life have equaled one great Success.. and that, is ME! :-)
The following is a poem that someone sent to me and I thought it compliments this post quite well!
In Trying Times Don’t Quit Trying
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But with a chuckle he replied,
That “maybe it couldn’t” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t do so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried, he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done. And he did it.
Somebody scoffed: “Oh you’ll never do that,
At least no one ever has done it.”
But he took off his coat and took off his hat
And the first thing he knew he’d begun it.
With the lift of his chin and a bit of a a grin,
If any doubt rose he forbid it;
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t’ be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you,
But just buckle right in with a bit of a grin,
Then take off your coat and go to it.
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That cannot be done, and you’ll do it!
-Unknown
Growing up, I was never what one would consider the “Academic” type. I did very poorly and never made the grades that my friends and siblings did. I was the quiet, shy, sweet natured girl who sat in the back of the class to avoid getting called on. It was my way of trying to be inconspicuous. I have never been the “organized” neat freak, and I probably never will be. I was tested for learning disabilities at the recommendation of teachers and administrative officials at my junior high school. I just wasn’t doing well, and because I “Looked” smart, it was expected that I would be brilliant in the world of academia. The psychiatrist who tested me, while, generally sweet, put me in a small testing room; gave me a pencil and a book full of activities to complete. All of the “test” questions seemed to lean on the “creative” side. I have a very creative brain, and was able to come up with creative answers to those test questions. After the series of tests, the psychiatrist called us and wanted to meet with us. I chose not to go, because I didn’t want to know if I would be “LD”. Well, instead, my parents went, and came back with the kiss of death answer. (This is NOT in anyway my parents fault… this was the psychiatrist who didn’t go further into testing) I was completely normal with an “above average” intelligence. My brain leans towards the “creative” thought process (really.. No kidding!!). So the psychiatrist confirmed what the teachers had been telling everyone… That “Christie just didn’t want it bad enough.”, “It’s just being Lazy.”, “She’s a Daydreamer”. Those words haunt me still. The truth is, I did want it bad enough. I mean, really, who in the hell wants to fight with their parents every time a progress report comes out or a report card comes out, and there is a D or an F on there? Why would I put myself through the torture of upsetting my parents like that? I would make A’s and B’s in art classes, English classes, and electives, but only because those are my strong points, they allowed my brain to work to it’s advantage.
Well, High School brought on new challenges, none of them too devastating. My Junior year brought on an opportunity to do a group research paper. Our group selected Attention Deficit Disorder. My section of the paper was to research the symptoms of ADD. I found very little research on this, due to the fact that ADD was just starting to be recognized globally. What I did find, were definitions of what my life was like. It wasn’t just your classic text book symptoms, these symptoms defined me! After the project was completed, I took my knowledge home, and got up the courage to actually ASK my parents to be tested for this. They thought that I had been tested for ADD already, and so they declined it. I kept pushing, and upon my persistence, they agreed to get me tested in the fall of 1996.
I remember the day very clearly. September 29, 1996, it was raining, and my mother and I were called back to the doctors office and asked to sit down in two chairs that faced his desk. My folder sitting there with my name on it opened to a diagnosis sheet. I remember that he started off by talking about recommendations, and frontal lobe differences etc…. I remember specifically asking him to stop, and proceeded to ask him “So you mean, I have this?” and he nodded and said “Indeed you do!”. The moment he said that, this boulder that had been sitting on my shoulders since I entered grade school, began to lift off of me. I wasn’t lazy, I wanted it bad enough, and I wanted to prove to everyone that I was not stupid! I got a euphoric sense of relief the minute the diagnosis was handed to me.
The ride home was somewhat somber, and I looked over at my mom, and she had tears in her eyes. She kept saying she was so sorry, and kept asking the dreaded “What If” questions. “What if you would have been diagnosed earlier?”, “What if we could have changed these learned behaviors to help you?”… I looked at her, and said that this diagnosis was NOT a bad thing, and that they can’t blame themselves! They did what they could to find out what was wrong with me. They never expected the same things from one child to the next. They had individual expectations for all of us, which I think helped me in the long run. They did what they thought best at the time, with the information they had received from various different individuals. I know that was a blow to my parents, however, I’m thankful that we finally had an answer!
I was put on Adderall (this was prior to the XR), and life seemed to fall into place. My senior year in High School was one of my best. I got a main roll in a play, I did very well on my Senior Exit Project, I wrote my own play, and I developed friendships that have lasted me into adulthood, and I scored pretty well on my SAT. Graduation Day, I got my diploma, and when I went to meet my parents after the ceremony, I cried.. I cried hard. No one really understood what that diploma meant to myself and my parents. No one really knew the struggles that I had encountered along the way. That diploma stood for every teacher that told me that I did not want it bad enough! It stood for every teacher that believed in me, and encouraged me along the way.
I decided to go to Community College and do a transfer program. This allowed me to stay on track with things, and allowed me to transition easier into a mainstream college atmosphere. After two years of community college. I was accepted into my dream school. Really, one of the only schools that I really applied to! I was to become a student of Appalachian State University. My first semester there, I did great! I was on a roll, and second semester, I did okay, still not 100%, but better than most! I lived in the dorms, and had a great roommate. The atmosphere of ASU was amazing! I loved it up there! My second year there, I moved into an apartment with three other roommates. I don’t know what caused my downward spiral, but I hit a wall. All of the euphoria of the diagnosis had worn off, and I remember sitting in my room in my apartment, crying. I used to hide away in my room, and just not come out. Everyone wondered why, but I couldn’t tell them, because I didn’t even know why.
That summer, I decided to attend summer school, but even that didn’t do anything for me. I decided to come home and go to community college again, and figure my life out. I failed miserably. The depression hovered over me, and I was MISERABLE! 9/11 occurred, and I felt guilty for being so down, because all of these people had just lost loved ones, and the country had lost so much, and here I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself. I stopped taking Adderall because I stopped getting the results I saw when I first started taking the meds. January of 2002, I decided to change doctors, and seek out a counselor. I saw the counselor first, and the minute I sat down on the couch, she asked me how I was doing, and the tears just came from somewhere deep inside of me. I allowed myself to be vulnerable in order to heal. That was the best decision I have ever made. I was diagnosed with Depression, and turns out, the original dose of medicine given to me, was far below what I should have had. My new doctor put me on 40 mgs daily of Adderall XR.
I ended up getting a great job at a daycare, and when life felt like it was getting better, I decided to go back to school at ASU. The summer of 2003, I went back to Boone, NC and started taking classes. I did great with my summer classes, which geared me up for the Fall semester. That when it all hit me again… School was not my strong point, and I was too old for the “College” lifestyle, that just about everyone in Boone lives. Somewhere in those 2.5 years I had been gone, I grew up. I learned lessons, and I knew what I wanted and what I didn’t want. So Fall of 2003 was my last semester in Boone, NC. I came home, and found an EXCELLENT job that I am still at, and I love it. I don’t regret not finishing up school. I have so many different classes under my belt, that one of these days, I can go back for 2 years and I could have three degrees. I don’t think I’m to that point yet though.
My story is never ending. For the people who told me that I was lazy, and who told me I didn’t want it bad enough, and that I just wasn’t made for it…. Guess what… I’m thanking you in this post! If it weren’t for you… I don’t know if I would have tried so hard to prove you wrong. I use your words for ammunition whenever I come across something that myself or others think that I can’t do…. I do it! My failures in life have equaled one great Success.. and that, is ME! :-)
The following is a poem that someone sent to me and I thought it compliments this post quite well!
In Trying Times Don’t Quit Trying
Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
But with a chuckle he replied,
That “maybe it couldn’t” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t do so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried, he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done. And he did it.
Somebody scoffed: “Oh you’ll never do that,
At least no one ever has done it.”
But he took off his coat and took off his hat
And the first thing he knew he’d begun it.
With the lift of his chin and a bit of a a grin,
If any doubt rose he forbid it;
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t’ be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you,
But just buckle right in with a bit of a grin,
Then take off your coat and go to it.
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That cannot be done, and you’ll do it!
-Unknown
Friday, November 2, 2007
CarnEvil 2007
So as promised, I will blog today about Carnevil 2007! Prior to last Saturday, the last time I dressed up, I was a Strawberry Frosted Poptart! Yes, you read correctly, and I hate to admit that no, I do not have pictures of it. (Thank Goodness) That was around 4 years ago. So a great opportunity to raise money for a local children’s hospital came across my path, and of course I had to take it. I started thinking of things that I could be, because I was told by my sister that people go “all out” on their costumes for this thing. She also said that there were going to be flame throwers and strange stuff. I was a little worried about that, but not so much that I would not go.
The hunt for the perfect costume was on….. So I started doing some research and came across the idea of being a “Devil with a Blue Dress on”. I rolled with it. I had a white dress at home that I could dye blue, but I wanted to see what my other resources were. So I searched for the perfect blue dress, but nothing was more perfect than the one I already had, and a bottle of blue dye. I went and got the most RANDOM of all devil wigs with red eyelashes to boot! I of course, also had the pitch fork. :-)
We started our evening off at Jason’s house for a pre party. Susan was dressed as a Flapper, and you could not recognize her at all. She had somehow managed to get her really long thick blonde hair tucked up and flattened into a black short wig. She looked GREAT!!! Robyn was RainbowBrite and Jason was a Gladiator. We were among other great costumes as well.
From there, we drove to Amos Bar in Uptown Charlotte and upon walking in, I knew that it was going to be an eventful night. I saw so many random costumes that it was funny. Not to mention Drag Queens. Susan wasn’t kidding, these people REALLY did go all out for their costume. I’m not talking about the $40 variety, but more along the lines of $1,000 variety. I was shocked! It was a little too freaky for me, but it was fun! I enjoyed getting dressed up in stuff that you would not catch me wearing any other day of the year. For one night, I was not Christie, I was the Devil with a Blue Dress On! I loved it!
So I am adding the pictures down below. If you know me, you know that I am completely not into the “goth” scene and so I do look VERY different in these pictures, but it’s me none the less. :-)
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The hunt for the perfect costume was on….. So I started doing some research and came across the idea of being a “Devil with a Blue Dress on”. I rolled with it. I had a white dress at home that I could dye blue, but I wanted to see what my other resources were. So I searched for the perfect blue dress, but nothing was more perfect than the one I already had, and a bottle of blue dye. I went and got the most RANDOM of all devil wigs with red eyelashes to boot! I of course, also had the pitch fork. :-)
We started our evening off at Jason’s house for a pre party. Susan was dressed as a Flapper, and you could not recognize her at all. She had somehow managed to get her really long thick blonde hair tucked up and flattened into a black short wig. She looked GREAT!!! Robyn was RainbowBrite and Jason was a Gladiator. We were among other great costumes as well.
From there, we drove to Amos Bar in Uptown Charlotte and upon walking in, I knew that it was going to be an eventful night. I saw so many random costumes that it was funny. Not to mention Drag Queens. Susan wasn’t kidding, these people REALLY did go all out for their costume. I’m not talking about the $40 variety, but more along the lines of $1,000 variety. I was shocked! It was a little too freaky for me, but it was fun! I enjoyed getting dressed up in stuff that you would not catch me wearing any other day of the year. For one night, I was not Christie, I was the Devil with a Blue Dress On! I loved it!
So I am adding the pictures down below. If you know me, you know that I am completely not into the “goth” scene and so I do look VERY different in these pictures, but it’s me none the less. :-)
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Someone Stole Halloween!!!
Guess what!!! I passed the “Halloween” test with flying colors!!!! I only got the urge to munch on M&M’s for a few seconds. A couple of M&M’s later, and I’m good. :-) No harm in that, right? I didn’t have the urge to dip my hand into the candy dish to pull out a candy bar that is meant to give to the trick or treating children. I’m so proud of myself!!! GO ME!!!
Speaking of Trick Or Treating… I remember as a child, Halloween and trick or treating was HUGE in our neighborhood. The streets were packed full of parents taking groups of costumed witches, rock stars, and ninja’s through the neighborhood to get gobs of candy that would rot our teeth later on. You would pass numerous groups of kids and parents every Halloween! Every house was lit up by hand carved pumpkins that did not use a pattern, homemade decorations of paper mache pumpkins and ghosts and goblins, instead of the store bought kind. Our costumes were last minute creations of our imaginations, instead of the kind that you spend $40 on at a Halloween store. A white sheet could be anything you wanted it to be.
Somewhere in my busy life of growing up, someone lost Halloween in my parents neighborhood. Yes, the children of yesteryear have all grown up and are no longer living there, but there are now more children in my parents neighborhood than there have been in YEARS!! Somehow, the fun of trick or treating in our safe neighborhood has been lost. We had a grand total of 7.. let me spell that out for you, S-E-V-E-N children, to come knock on our door. Those 7 children came in two different groups. Gone are the days that the mothers would sit at home to hand out candy, and fathers would round up the kids to go out and gather our riches.
Instead of neighborhoods, kids now trick or treat in Malls, Churches, Dorms, etc. What is wrong with a parent taking their child trick or treating in their own neighborhood? I know I am not a parent, but how hard is it to stay with your child as you take them around to trick or treat in a neighborhood? I can understand if you live in a high crime area, however, if you do not… then what is wrong? Why does Halloween have to be so materialistic? What happened the the neighborhood Trick Or Treating??
** Steps down slowly from my soapbox**
Whew.. I feel better having just typed all of that out.
I will blog tomorrow about the adventures of Carnevil 2007 and my genius “Devil With a Blue Dress On” costume. I have to admit, it was freaky freaky freaky, but I think I fit in. haha. So ta ta for now, and till tomorrow…..
Speaking of Trick Or Treating… I remember as a child, Halloween and trick or treating was HUGE in our neighborhood. The streets were packed full of parents taking groups of costumed witches, rock stars, and ninja’s through the neighborhood to get gobs of candy that would rot our teeth later on. You would pass numerous groups of kids and parents every Halloween! Every house was lit up by hand carved pumpkins that did not use a pattern, homemade decorations of paper mache pumpkins and ghosts and goblins, instead of the store bought kind. Our costumes were last minute creations of our imaginations, instead of the kind that you spend $40 on at a Halloween store. A white sheet could be anything you wanted it to be.
Somewhere in my busy life of growing up, someone lost Halloween in my parents neighborhood. Yes, the children of yesteryear have all grown up and are no longer living there, but there are now more children in my parents neighborhood than there have been in YEARS!! Somehow, the fun of trick or treating in our safe neighborhood has been lost. We had a grand total of 7.. let me spell that out for you, S-E-V-E-N children, to come knock on our door. Those 7 children came in two different groups. Gone are the days that the mothers would sit at home to hand out candy, and fathers would round up the kids to go out and gather our riches.
Instead of neighborhoods, kids now trick or treat in Malls, Churches, Dorms, etc. What is wrong with a parent taking their child trick or treating in their own neighborhood? I know I am not a parent, but how hard is it to stay with your child as you take them around to trick or treat in a neighborhood? I can understand if you live in a high crime area, however, if you do not… then what is wrong? Why does Halloween have to be so materialistic? What happened the the neighborhood Trick Or Treating??
** Steps down slowly from my soapbox**
Whew.. I feel better having just typed all of that out.
I will blog tomorrow about the adventures of Carnevil 2007 and my genius “Devil With a Blue Dress On” costume. I have to admit, it was freaky freaky freaky, but I think I fit in. haha. So ta ta for now, and till tomorrow…..
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