Am I a Cliché?

I’ve been feeling weird the last few months.  && the one thing that has plagued my mind the most is whether or not I’m just an average cliché or not.  I know it’s silly to think of yourself like but it’s there.  Floating around in my brain.

Since I was about eighteen I have been trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.  What is it that I WANT to be – to do.  I can always remember being younger and wanting to be in the medical field, help people – but once I lost my mother my mood shifted and I didn’t want to deal with the pain of telling their loved ones that I lost their person.  So I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.

But now I feel as if I may just be another cliché.

I can always remember having the love for writing – which isn’t a big secret if you know me.  I remember writing my very first poem in school then spending years writing poems (I no longer have any of them, which is probably a good thing) before I slowly moved into writing short stories and then began my first novel.

But why is that making me feel like I do?

I’ve noticed lately that EVERYONE is a writer.  If they don’t have a career path, any idea what they want out of life, or are stay-at-home mom’s – they are automatically a writer.  They keep blogs, posting daily, write stories that they share with people, and self-publish novels that they write in about a week.

If they are not “writers” they are ‘chefs’ or ‘photographers’.  *SIDE NOTE: I’m not bashing writers, chefs or photographers &&& you’ll see why as you read on.*

My second love is cooking and secretly, deep down inside, I would love to open a restaurant.  Third love – photography.  I even bought an EOS Rebel 35 MM camera when I was eighteen thinking that I will become a photographer.  I even looked into photography schools to learn how to be better and develop film myself.

But just like when it comes to ‘writers’, a lot of people say they are photographer or chefs because they don’t know what to do with their lives.  When I was looking into the photography idea I noticed just how many people do that themselves and I thought ‘if everyone is a photographer then what am I doing?  I cannot compete with the whole state of Oklahoma.”  (I’ll always have a soft spot for photography and any chance I get I take pictures for people.)  But unfortunately, most of the people in my life call the other “photographers” around to do their photos.  Or… they use their phone and take their own.  That’s fine, whatever.

But am I just like the rest of people trying to do something with my life that EVERYONE seems to be doing?  I will always have a love for writing, but am I being ridiculous in thinking that I will be published?

I just turned 30.  I am 30 years old.  I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything in my life.  Sitting here thinking about my writing and I realize that I have never finished a full story.  Even Frost, the novel I’ve been working on since November of 2012 – I’m still not finished with it.  I actually decided to “rewrite” it.  Now I’m sitting here with a half finished novel and I honestly think it’s complete crap.  I wonder sometimes if that’s why I haven’t finished it.  I even try to tell myself that Stephen King threw away Carrie – he hated that story.  Threw it in the trash.

When it comes to cooking I’m perfectly find just cooking with the family or for them and friends.  I can live my life doing that.  It’s fine.  One day I might open a restaurant, but I won’t be bummed if I never open one.

Photography is a very slow dying out occupation because of cell phone cameras and small pocket sized digital cameras.  Why pay someone to do something your sister can do?

Writing.  I have had a love for that since I was ten or eleven.  (No, I didn’t start writing when I was four – that’s dumb.)  In 2012 I told myself I’d be finished and published by 30 – but here I am.  With neither crossed off my list.

I guess what I’m trying to figure out is what do I want to be doing for the rest of my life?  I know for a fact that it’s not my job right now.  I do NOT want to make it a career because I barely like it.  (No offense to the job itself.)  Honestly, I know the answer, but does it make me a cliché knowing that I don’t like my job, don’t really have any future plans but I want to be a published author?

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13 Down – 30 More To Go.

I made myself a small goal.  Nothing huge.  Mostly because I need goals to be reachable.  If I give myself a huge goal, I will never actually achieve it.  Then I’m miserable for months because I didn’t do it.

So months ago I gave myself a goal of pulling off 42 pounds.  Basically.  So I began my weight loss journey.  It started out very slowly because I couldn’t grasp what I really needed to do to get on my way.  But I think I basically have my footing – other than breakfast.  (I am having issues finding something that fills me up longer than an hour.  But I will.)

But whatever I am doing, seems to be working.  I basically started this round September 2nd – exercising, eating smaller portions, etc.  Basically everything people tell you to do.  OH!  &&& I have basically given up soda and drink mostly water.  Like… a lot of water.

I had a work biometric a couple weeks ago and I was almost derailed.  Why?  Because their scale said two pounds.  Two.  Pounds.  Which is harsh to see when you feel like you’re doing great.  But then I decided that their scale isn’t the scale I’ve been using so I decided against going with it.  Had a doctors appointment today and was weighed.

Thirteen pounds difference.

That makes it all much better.  That makes me feel better.  Much better.  Knowing that I am, in fact, pulling the weight off – it makes everything feel fantastic.

Right now my work pants are falling off.  A shirt I bought a few years ago that was tight is not anymore.  So basically I’m just going to keep going.  I Have pants and shirts and bras in my closet that are too small that I really want to get into.

So – I have more work to do.

Dear Diary : #1

I don’t know what happened to me.  I used to be the epitome of writing.  Wrote constantly.  Anything && everything I could.  But now – not so much.  I know I complain about writing a lot, but I promise this isn’t going to be thirty-three paragraphs about how I just can’t seem to write anymore.

Nope.  Not in the least.

Today’s Complaint = I am in a reading rut!

(This also won’t be a thirty-two paragraph rant, either.)

I have tried a few different styles && a part of me thinks that is what may actually have put me in the rut.  Sadly, I LOVE romance novels.  Always have.  The idea that someone could have the perfect relationship – the kind they want, anyway – makes me happy.  Even if it’s between two fake people with fake families and fake friends.  The thoughts came from a real person.  So it counts somewhere.

Me?  I love reading romance, any kinds.  I love writing romance – all kinds.  (No “smut”, though, I can’t seem to get through that without laughing at myself.)  So no worries about getting the next 50 Shades of Grey.

Romance is my thing – has been since I could remember.  I love every aspect of a good romance novel.  But I like taking a romance novel and putting a horrible twist to it, so when the love reunites it’s even stronger than it ever was.

So I started my novel.  I figured I could do whatever I wanted and put the characters through what I choose fitting.  So November of 2012 I began my novel (“Frost”).  Oh, boy, was I excited.  The excitement is still there it’s just a tad burned out.  Not because I don’t want to finish it, I do!  Oh trust me, I want to finish it.  But I guess my goals just didn’t add up and now I’m a little on the sad part.

What goals?

I decided, when I began writing again (around nineteen), that I wanted to be published by 30.  That seems like a good amount of years to write a novel, send out manuscripts, and get someone to fall in love with my story.

The problem?

I’m a little under two months away from joining the 30’s Club &&& I still haven’t finished the novel.  Yeah, no reason to reread that line – you read it correctly.  I have been working on the novel for five years and I am still not finished.

Well, I have technically finished.  I have been working on the corrections since 2015 when I finished the rough draft.   But nope… still haven’t finished.  So I made myself a new goal, that I am trying my hardest to keep – but I have moments where I can’t seem to keep my attention long enough to correct it.

I want to finish it completely by my 30th birthday.  However, I honestly don’t see it happening, not because I don’t want to, but because it’s less than two months away and I’m still correcting chapter 11 out of… 24?

Am I up to twenty-three paragraphs yet?

I have faith, though, lots &&& lots of faith that I will finish the novel.  When?  I’m not 100% sure, but I know I will.  Getting it published may be a different story.  (Most companies, now, don’t take unsolicited manuscripts anymore.)

Anyhoo…

I’ll stop complaining now and go back to watching “Vampire Dairies” &&& playing Fallout Shelter on the PC.  Yes, I do realize I should be editing (which is why most people know me as a procrastinator) but I’m not.

Go figure.

I’m a little upset…

I’m extremely upset with myself but not for any of the reasons you’re probably thinking. When I went to the doctor in December of 2016 the doctor told me ‘throughout the whole year I had lost 10 pounds’.  He was excited however I knew I could do better.  Small changes & I could take off way more than that.  So I decided that I would change the way I ate, not take anything out but just eat less.  When I get full I’ll stop.  I went to the doctor in March of 2017 && I had lost 18 pounds.  18 pounds in four months without changing what I ate only how much, how often, &&& I was NOT exercising.

I was on cloud 9!  Because I just proved my preaching correct.  Yes, it’ll take me a while to get the other 147 pounds off but I know I can do it.

Sitting in the doctor’s office I decide that I’m going to add exercise to my life.  You know, just a small walk – once a day between 20 & 30 minutes.  If I go longer yay!  If I don’t Yay!  When a person doesn’t get any exercise whatsoever, a small amount does wonders.

So last Wednesday I decide to put it to work.  I go for my walk and feel wonderful but I’m hungry.  All day.  Every day.  Because I know logically I’m not eating enough food.  Because when you start calorie counting it scares the living crap out of you!  You look at things you eat daily and finally realize that you are in taking so many calories.

I scared myself into calorie counting when I began this by just wanting to add exercise.  I wanted to prove to the world that you don’t have to chew on lettuce, or snack on celery.  That you could go and enjoy a meal out when you don’t feel like cooking.  Or stop by the convenience store and get some crispetoes.   But I didn’t do that.  I stopped eating anything deep fried (I don’t that often anyway), stopped asking for pizza.  I WAS STILL EATING PIZZA WHEN I LOST THE 18 POUNDS WITH NO EXERCISE.

I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re miserable.
I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re hungry all the time.
I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re not satisfied with what you’re doing.

I got to the point last night that I was scared to eat.  &&& I was hungry.  I’m not talking bored hungry, or whatever.  I was stomach growling uncomfortable please give me something in an IV hungry.  But I was scared because I would go over calories.  Who cares if I eat over 1,910 calories a day.  Last weekend at work I was miserable.  MISERABLE.  I’m sitting there hungry just thinking about  the next moment I get to eat.  I wasn’t thinking about work.  I was thinking about food.  Because I was hungry.

I do believe that I need more water.
I do believe that I need less deep fried foods.
I do believe that I need more greens, veggies, & fruits.

But I also believe that I will not do this if I’m hungry all the time and only thinking about food.  So I need to stop && readjust what I’m doing.  Because I’m doing something wrong.

When I go back to the doctor in July if I don’t lose the 47 pounds – that’s okay.  But I do want to see if it’s possible to lose weight without eating ONLY veggies and fruits.  I’m a huge meat eater – I don’t think a dinner is complete without some form of meat.  People will & have argued with me over that, but if I look at a plate of nothing but veggies and fruits, I’m unhappy.  Now, add a piece of nicely cooked chicken or pork chops, I’m happy.  When you’re fighting food you can’t be unhappy with it because then you’re just going to try & find something to make you happy.  When you have issues && turn to food – guess what you’re going to do trying to find a happy place.  You’re going to eat.  &&& eat.  &&& eat.

What I need to readjust in my head is my motivation.  I want off my medication.  I don’t want it to get worse I want it to get better and until I pull off some weight it won’t work.  But I’m NOT going to be unhappy while I do this.  Because I’d rather stay overweight && be happy, then lose all of the weight and be scared of food. Be scared of eating an apple because they have hidden sugars and it might make me fat again.  What kind of life is that?

What if I want to make spaghetti one night and have a big bowl of it and just enjoy it?  I can’t if I’m scared of food.  I don’t want to be scared to buy food at work the days I wake up so tired && it takes everything to go for my walk let alone make myself breakfast, lunch, diner & snacks.  When I could just go to work and get something.  Yes, it’s not healthy, but I feel like eating nothing but fruits and veggies will be unhealthy too.  Especially for someone like me.  Who – when hungry – eats, and eats, and eats until I get to the point of making myself sick.  But I am full after I eat in the first place I don’t think about food as much.  I mean I’m always thinking about food – that’s just me.  Like I have already figured out what I’m making tomorrow night for dinner and I haven’t been to sleep.

No, I’m not trying to talk myself out of weight loss.  I’d never do that.  What I’m trying to do is secure the weight loss.  I’m trying to make sure I don’t fail…. again.  I’m tired of being overweight.  I’ve been tired for year.  I know calorie counting with my app on my phone works.  But I’m unhappy.  I will never finish my weight loss if I feel like this.  I’ll never get to a healthy weight if I feel like I do right now.

What made me realize all of this?  I freaking LOVE Frito chili pie.  LOVE.  IT.  I’m not a chili eater unless you give me Frito’s, cheese, onions & salsa.  &&& I’m in love.  Tonight the Boyfriend wanted that for dinner and I’m not going to tell him no.  I made a Frito chili pie tonight for myself using the serving size.  I don’t know if anyone has ever tried to eat a serving size of Frito’s & chili but it seriously made me so sad.  I just sat there & thought about what I was trying to accomplish and what I was doing to myself not eating a normal portion for someone my size.

So I’m going to turn right && choose to eat what I want to eat.  Yes, I will still eat the good-for-me foods like I have been.  But I think I’m going to stop counting calories.  I’ll keep my app, I’ve had it for years.  I want to see if adding exercise, & drinking more water will double my weight loss in July.

So yeah, I probably just made this even harder for myself to get the weight off && it’ll probably take me years.  But that’s okay.  It is.  It’s fine.  But I’d rather be doing this for years then be unhappy right now.  But we never know… maybe a miracle will happen && I can get the next 150 pounds off in the next year & a half.

All I have to remember is one thing… exercise. exercise. exercise. exercise.
Plus, as I exercise and my body gets more used to it I’ll be able to increase it and do more.

One day at a time.

Quick Update.

I have been slacking a little.  It’s normal for me, though, to not write daily.  I try but then I fail.  I usually welcome the fail before I fail.  That way I’m not disappointed.

It’s basically been a week since I began this and it’s not been too horrible.  I have obstacles, just like anyone else, that I have to jump.  Some of them make it hard – like the fact that I’m still fat.  Yeah.  I had one of those moments – where you go exercise and feel fantastic then get a glimpse of yourself && realize you’re still fat.  It’s heart breaking!  But it’s okay.  One day at a time.

Monday & Tuesday weren’t good days.  They weren’t horrible days – but they weren’t good.  That’s okay though.  I woke up late on Monday (I work that night) so I didn’t have time to get in some exercise or making my own dinner.  So I ended up eating a chicken fried steak sandwich from Toby’s Keith’s & chips & dip.  It was delicious but was it worth the calories?  Probably not…

Tuesday is my first day off, however, getting home at 6 in the morning I tend to sleep until afternoon to early evening.  So I woke up with enough time to make dinner – ended up making chicken parm with spaghetti and meatballs.  Yeah!  That’s right.  When I ruin my diet I ruin it well.  But if it makes everyone feel better – it made my stomach hurt and I was in the bathroom most of the night getting it out.

My stomach was pissed off!

Tonight we’re having hamburgers & hot dogs but have no fear I’m doing it the smart way.  I’m not going to over due it.  I exercised today – had Boyfriend && his daughter join me.  0.73 miles.  21 minutes.  Doesn’t take me long to do it but like I said, I shoot for at least 20 minutes because that’s a lot compared to nothing.

I’ll end this one really quick – dinner is done.  After I eat and Boyfriend goes to work I’ll come back and ramble some more.

Enjoy your day!

Christmas Spirit

There is a commercial that plays where a family is welcoming people in and they are handing out gifts with a soft Christmas song playing in the background. There is laughter & many smiles.  Dad, mom, children, grand parents, uncles, aunts – everyone you can imagine. You can tell by watching it that you should feel something.  Anything.

Me?  Nothing.

I go through this feeling yearly and I can’t seem to fix it.  I have been searching for the Christmas Spirit that I remember as a child.  Growing up I remember my mother having it – or so it seemed.  Maybe she didn’t?  I cannot really ask now.  Maybe she faked it well.  Another issue I have?  I cannot even seem to fake the spirit.

Yes, I have things about Christmas I’ll always enjoy.  I love buying gifts and giving them out.  I love the lights, the cold, and the snow.  But it’s that tiny spark people get I cannot seem to find.

I wish I could.  I wish I could feel that something I felt as a child when my brother & I would wake up at six in the morning and sit in front of the Christmas tree.  That feeling I had as I watched my mother prepare dinner or the glee I felt as the days counted down.

I remember watching our local channel all night as “Santa Claus” made his way around the world.  It always made me smile to know that he’d be at my house soon.  I would always make sure, once he got around New York, that I would go to sleep so he’d show up.  After that my mother would hurriedly fill our stockings and leave out the Santa gifts.  Then in the morning we’d have unwrapped presents waiting for us and we’d know that we’d been good and Santa made it – even if we didn’t have a chimney. (My mom told us how he’d shrink and go under the door.  As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that is pretty creepy.  But it’s still the story I’d pass down to the younger generation.)

Now it seems as if the older I get the less and less I enjoy.  (That actually may be half the reason I get so irritated with people when they tell me I should not like cartoons anymore because I am too old.  What should I be watching?  Soap operas?)

Now that I am dating a guy with children I feel like I should be feeling something – if not for me, at least for them.  I can only fake whatever it is I’m missing for so long.  Slowly the “it” I’m faking is fading.  Normally I would be sending out Christmas cards – but does anyone really care about them anymore?  No.  Because I send them to adults and it seems as if all adults feel the same way.  Sparkles and laughter in front of the children but behind doors it’s pure cynical and bad attitudes.

I always knew I didn’t want to become an adult, but I honestly didn’t think I would lose everything I felt that made me happy in doing so.

Now it makes me wonder how many more years will I have loving cartoons before I wake up one day & just not care.  How many more years will I enjoy coloring or putting puzzles together?  How many more years, since I am only twenty-eight years old, do I have before I become the shell of a person I was and become nothing?  How many years do I have before I become the adult I never wanted to become?