It's strange I just stopped. Writing has been part of my life for as long as I can remember and yet, in the last year, I just stopped. It was almost as if I'd run out of things to say. I felt I was writing the same story over and over and over. I reread my journal and that was in fact true. There were patterns and it seemed that despite my best efforts and good intentions, I did the same things and the same things happened over and over again. Lose weight, gain weight. Career drought, career boom. And my all time favorite classic. Meet boy, fall for boy, hurt by boy.
Maybe this is merely the cycle of birth, growth, and death in all things. Still I found them dull and suddenly hopeless. If the same thing was going to happen why bother writing about it?
So I stopped.
But a couple of interesting things happened. My discovery that in fact the same thing wasn't happening, despite cycles I am growing and changing, as slow as the process has been I'm a different person than I was even a year ago. And I have progressed professionally leaps and bounds in the past 365 days.
I also discovered that while the same things happen, the devil is in the details. It's the details that are interesting. And of course, hope springs eternal that I will reach the mountain top of a fit, professionally successful woman in a happy long term committed relationship.
But perhaps most importantly, I realized that I just HAVE TO WRITE. The year that I was not writing I just let things bubble up and fester. I didn't have any outlet. I drank more, ate more, and hurt more. Physically I have felt heavy. Not fat heavy, but heavy like " I'm carrying all of this stuff on my back. I've got no where to put it." And of course that's what I've been doing with my journal all these years. This is a place to put my stuff down.
So I'm going to be back more I hope. If you're reading this because you kept me on your friends list. Thanks. I'll be writing a bit more. Although some of it may be more filtered because I'm going to get personal again.

Dear Mojo,
Where have you gone? Why have you decided to leave me? Will you ever come back or is it all downhill from here?
Missing you,
Me

I really hate that I have been trying to lose weight, sometimes with phenomenal success, sometimes with utter failure, since I was 16 years old.  I had a wonderful body when I was 16, but it didn't look like the skinny white girls I was surrounded by and so I began the never ending quest for thinness.

Anyway, my best effort was in Europe when I reached the awe inspiring (for me) weight of 140.  I looked amazing. Flat tummy, round pert booty, perky delicious large boobs. I knew I looked good.  I had never looked so good.

I was also constantly hungry and tired all the time.  I maintained my weight by sleeping 12 hours a day. And smoking two packs of Marlboros a day.  At least.  If you aren't awake that often you don't have to expend as much energy. 
I am pretty sure this is why supermodels always have that "just out of bed" look. Those bitches are tired.

So I lost weight about six months ago, only to gain it all back. Plus 2.

I currently weigh more than I have ever weighed in my life.  Three quarters of my clothes do not fit.  

And I am beside myself. I just want to give up and go ahead and get fat.  

But I just don't have it to give up.  I have given up on very little in my life, and my quest to maintain a healthy weight really should not be one of them.

So I'm  trying again.  This time to Jillian Micheal's 30 day challenge.   To get me started.
I'll keep y'all posted.

My childhood friend Kim is getting married in the next few weeks. I couldn't be happier for her.  She's a wonderful person and deserves all the happiness in the world.
However, her impending nuptials and my chronic singleness remind me of something she said to me in a Denny's when we were 18.  "You know what I think? You love the drama, the romance of relationships.  I think you want a man to rescue you. "

My most recent ex said almost exactly the same thing. " You need a man to rescue you. You need a guy on a white horse and I am not that guy." 

Well, I've been thinking about that...and you know what? Maybe they are right.  I do want a man to find me and say " You don't have to do this alone any more. I know you've been fighting for so long. We are going to get out of this forest together. "

Because I am a princess.  A Warrior Princess (apologies to Xena). I've been out on this battlefield of life, down in the trenches, for quite some time now.  And you know what? I've slayed every dragon that has confronted me:   Abusive relationships, financial setbacks, illness, professional ups and downs, unexpected losses.  But God has blessed me more than I ever expected. I'm strong.  So strong in fact,  that I believe it is my purpose in this life to help guide other people through their own battles. I love what I do, and I'm  excellent at it.

But do I want a prince to show up and say  " I've got your back."  ???

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

Nashville feels wrong this summer.  Steve McNair's  murder with mistress dead possibly by her own hands in a condo on 2nd Ave. seem like the big punctuation mark to the bizarre turn the town is taking.
Several friends of mine have experienced break-ins in supposedly "safe" neighborhoods. People seem more eager than usual to get out of town.  I've noticed more homeless people on the streets, and the regular neighborhood bums have gotten more aggressive than usual. One of them even threatened a local bartender friend of mine with a knife.
Maybe its the economy. Empty condos are everywhere downtown as reminders of the big dreams this city had before the national bust. Houses have for sale signs on them for months when it used to be weeks.  The restaurant around the corner from my house went out of business, even though it seemed to be doing a fairly brisk business.  People at work are constantly passing around rumors of layoffs...and I work in health care!
It rained here on the 4th of July.  The clouds rolled in just as news was breaking of our city's big star falling in a dramatic fashion. I sincerely hope it was just the usual low pressure system rolling in and not an omen of things to come.

The governor of South Carolina, Mark Sanford, admits to an affair with some hottie from Argentina.  Shock!
Another man cheats.
They all cheat. Eventually.
I've stopped expecting much from the Y chromosones. I just want someone who is nice to me in public. Fair to me in private. And discreet and smart in his infidelities.  Someone who can help me with the mortgage, and if he wants to leave he'll be generous with the settlement.

SIDENOTE: I'm watching all these old white guys on TV feeling sorry for Sanford and the "tragedy".  What tragedy? Him being caught? Let's be clear that if this were a woman, she'd be ridden out on rails, if not stoned to death right at the press conference.

I will say that I am happy his wife did not stand by him. 

I feel my words coming back. I feel the urge to start writing again. So while I know I have been M.I.A. for quite some time, know that I am coming back. And soon. Very, very soon.
Cheers,
Vandy