Waking Up

Yawn. *streeeetttccchhhh*  I haven't published a blog in months. My life has taken over and I haven't made the time to write down my thoughts. And frankly, I've noticed it. My blogging has become a place to give my thoughts and feelings thorough contemplation, as well as to put them into words in order to work towards any resolutions that I may be seeking. Resolutions are not often considered a daily or weekly process but one could argue that they should be. Too often we spend a few moments once a year considering how to be better in some capacity, and subsequently are gung-ho heading into January 1st but by April 1st they are a distant memory. 

Alas, as we approach the new year, I will join a large portion of society in contemplating New Years resolutions. They should be realistic yet not common. They are exciting yet necessary. They should be attainable but should require some effort to ensure that one is successful by December. Decide what you will for your own resolutions but my one requirement is that you write them down.  This is the best way to hold yourself accountable for things that you've likely struggled to accomplish or maintain during previous days. 

Before I do that, I'd like to reflect upon my resolution from 2013. I vowed late in 2012 to spend less and save more. Fewer frivolous purchases and a recommitment to a long lost savings account. Spending is so easy; twenty dollars here, forty dollars there. And it's fun, let's face it!!  I'm happy to report that I was successful in 2013 and I've managed to take the first few steps in building a savings. It's as if I really am growing up!  

Now for 2013...

1. I've been rather honest in previous posts about my weight struggles. While I am making steps to change that, I have recognized that liking myself inside and out is critical to success in all areas of my life. Over the next twelve months I will be focusing on myself. The training plan will continue, and I will take whatever steps that seem appropriate to really like myself. 

2. My life for the past number of months has centered around work. At the bare minimum, five days a week and 8-10 hours a day. In 2014, I will take a real vacation, one that requires an out of office and a passport. Suggestions anyone?

3. Being home with my family over Thanksgiving and Christmas reminded me how much I love them and being home. A trip in the spring and one over the summer will satisfy this resolution. I need to spend more time with my family; there is no peace like that of being around them. 

4. And finally, this blog. I'm committing to being right back here. More frequent thoughts put into digital form. 

And that's a wrap. I have identified four things that will make me stronger physically and emotionally, and hopefully provide some humor along the way. After all, it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile and if I'm going to step up my workout game, I'm going to need to save my strength!

It's Not What You Know, It's Who You Know...

Every Friday on Twitter you can find 140 characters of other Twitter handles ending with an #FF.  Because I'm not young anymore, it took a little Google search for me to figure out what was going on, but have since taken quite the liking to the idea of 'Follow Friday'.  Assuming I remember on Fridays, I try to publicize Tweeps that are doing great things and are worth the follow.  

Work has been grueling lately.  We have an insane about of activity and the fatigued look is shared by every HR Business Partner in my office.  Long days and endless work seems to get worse by the day.  There is an end, but it's barely in sight.  It makes me long miss my days of trying to be a Princess.  However, I try to stop at least once a day to remind myself that outside of here, there are fantastic things going on.  There are amazing organizations, phenomenal people and events that showcase both so wonderfully.  So, in an effort to beat the work blues, this post will be dedicated to everyone that I feel deserves a follow, not just on Twitter but any way you can to support their efforts.

Let's start with my ever popular, @BoMFphilly.  That's Back on My Feet, Philadelphia for those of you that aren't familiar.  I've mentioned them previously and will continue to promote this amazing organization forever.  There is a piece of BoMF that touches us all.  No, I wasn't homeless, but it doesn't mean that witnessing the success of these men and women who are doesn't warm my soul.  I've watched men climb a steep ladder to find their way from addiction and homelessness to stable income from a consistent job and the proper knowledge about money management to ensure that they will be able to pay the rent on their new apartment going forward.  These same men have committed themselves to training plans, 5K's, half marathons and marathons along the way.  Mornings with Back on My Feet are a time where everyone feels at home, even those who are still working to find the brick and mortar version.

In a close second is @RedemptionIMLP.  Okay, okay, the hands behind the keyboard are my boyfriends, but it doesn't make him any less worth the follow.  As you know from previous posts, the man-friend set out to take on IRONMAN Lake Placid in July 2013 and while it didn't end as we had planned, the experience has driven him to create his blog, Redemption (redemption2014.blogspot.com) which will detail the training process and emotions behind the path back to Lake Placid for 2014.  It promises to be a long and arduous road....for both of us.  Along the same token, this year's race will be raising money for the IRONMAN Foundation (@IMF_Foundation).  The IRONMAN Foundation uses volunteerism, grant-making and philanthropy to leave behind a little piece of the IRONMAN in the communities in which host these massive triathlons.

Speaking of Foundations, check out @ibxfdn while you're perusing your Twitter.  This is another one that is near and dear since the BFF (@GoodOneFalck) is over there kicking [healthy] ass and taking [healthy] names.  The Independence Blue Cross Foundation is focused transforming health care through the communities in which they serve.  

Talk about serving the community...(Thanks for the wonderful transition IBC)

Check out @TeamRWBPhilly!  A good friend introduced me to Team Red, White & Blue over the summer and I've become more enamored by their efforts as I learn more.  Team RWB works to enrich the lives of veterans by connecting them to their communities using social and physical activity.  They have joined Back on My Feet for our Thursday Night Runs, and personally I think we make a pretty powerful combination!  BTW, if you're looking for a late season 5K or 10K, make sure to check out http://rivalryraces.com/ for the Nation's Race on December 14th!

Last year at the Eagles Community Champion dinner, I learned of an organization called the Great Guys Group, who has since changed their name to Bringing Hope Home.  This organization, @BHHPhilly, provides emotional and financial support to families that have been impacted by cancer.  The organization started with just one family who was rocked by the news of Stage IV cancer during pregnancy with their second child.  The amazing story of this family has turned into an amazing organization that has most certainly impacted the lives of almost 1500 local families.

All of the above reminds me of how many things that I am thankful for.  Isn't that what happens in November?  Thanksgiving is a pretty amazing holiday when you think of all of the influence that it has on people.  It also has an influence on my waistline!!  Which reminds me, have you gotten your Thanksgiving pies yet?  If not, head on over to http://www.mannapies.org/thomsonreuters and stock up for the family!!  At Thomson Reuters, we love @MANNANourishes for that and more!  MANNA prepares and delivers nourishing meals to individuals who are battling illness.

My final plug for amazing follows is @THON. Most people who know me know that I attended Penn State University, and know how passionate I am about the research and fundraising that happens on campus.  Dance Marathon started in 1977 and has since raised  more than $101 million dollars to benefit The Four Diamonds Fund at Penn State Hershey Children's Hospital.  The Four Diamonds Fund picks up where insurance leaves off, enabling families to focus solely on care for their children.  The Fund also provides research dollars with the intention of one day conquering pediatric cancer.  Its the largest student-run philanthropy in the nation, and gets stronger each year.  If you see a THON canner in your town, consider passing some change their way.  Together, we can find the cure for cancer.  

Together we can do a lot of things, and by sharing these amazing organizations I hope to bring more people into the fight.  These are organizations that I'm passionate about, but am certain that there are many MANY more out there.  So, while you're giving thanks this season, consider giving back as well.  Sometimes it only takes one hug, one quarter or one pie to make a considerable difference.  

#FF

Is Kindness Dead?

"Really?"

"You're Kiddin'?"

"Me!?"

Among other puzzled inquiries, these were the things I heard yesterday as I joined a good friend and great organization (Team Red, White & Blue - check 'em out at www.teamrwb.org) for a few hours to hand out cups of water to runners on Kelly Drive this morning.  There was no race, walk, regatta or other event tied to the cause, just a few people with a table, a couple of gallons of water and a lot of smiles.  I can't take the credit for the idea, but boy was it a great one.  When Melissa invited me to  take part in the morning's random act of kindness I was completely jazzed, however unprepared for the response that would follow.  

People were stunned.

It saddens me that random acts of kindness are so surprising.  Its easy to infer that people are so taken aback by such acts because they just don't come around as often as they should.  Are random acts of kindness following in the footsteps of chivalry?  Or do we just not acknowledge them often enough?  

Now, I will be the first to acknowledge that performing random acts of kindness is not intended to be recognized.  In fact, it's often sweeter when it's not, but you would expect that people wouldn't be so surprised when they encountered an act of gratitude.  I was fully expecting people to be able to share their own stories of something similar.  Instead people had a really hard time digesting that we were really just giving out water to runners, walkers and those enjoying time on the Kelly Drive path.  

So this brings me back to my initial question:  is kindness dead, or could it be evolving into a less appreciated form? You'll often hear men talk about how they understand chivalry and they attempt to practice it's courteous actions, however it goes unnoticed and unappreciated by today's female.  Today's dating world is a topic for another blog, but women are all too often outwardly exerting strength and independence which leaves men opening fewer doors because "she can do it herself".  So, men ask, "why try?" or better yet, "why waste the time?"  I think the same equates to kindness.  Society is moving at such a rapid pace and often only interested in what gets them through the day.  People are so determined that they don't need other's help which also extends into the random acts of kindness.  We are so focused on becoming independent and self-sustaining that we've become suspicious of those who simply stand outside and offer water to a couple of runners.  We could be on the brink of dehydration in the middle of the desert and still contemplating whether to take this cup of water from the stranger offering.  If kindness weren't a dwindling characteristic, people wouldn't feel the need to be so weary of those who are trying to keep it's positive energy alive.  

Speaking of positive energy, as selfish as it is, random acts of kindness make me feel so good.  With every grateful face and every 'thank you', that warm, fuzzy feeling grew like the Grinch's heart.  Let's face it, kindness is addicting.  Gratitude is infectious.  With one thank you, you want another.  There is an element of kindness to others that serves to make one's self feel just that much better.  And you know what, I think that's okay.  It's worth it when you think about how much that kindness can multiply if every person pays it forward to the next and so forth.  

So I say, go for it.  Buy the person behind you coffee.  Help to pick up those papers that your co-worker dropped while rushing to a meeting.  Hand out hot coffee to workers that are starting to get chilly during their outdoor day job.  I promise you that you'll feel wonderful, the other person(s) will appreciate the kindness and maybe, just maybe, we can rejuvenate a community that does for each other without hesitation.

Gratuitous, Unrelated Post

So, if you've ever read the magazine Us Weekly, you've read the portion where stars show us what's in their bag [purse].  Recently at work, we've decided to get rid of the celebrities and divulge what's in our own bags.  Below details what I found when I went digging through my daily tote.

Disclaimer:  What's shown below in my bag is a bit edited.  What you don't see are the various pieces of mail that are stashed away since I typically pick up my mail as I'm on my way into or out of the house, which results in stuffing it into my bag.

That said, there is no shortage of [random] things in my bag.  In a recent excursion to Boston, I found this brand new Kate Spade tote in a secondhand store.  SUCH. A. FIND!!  It holds everything, including my laptop and makes for a perfect bag.  Inside I keep an over-sized clutch that holds my wallet, keys, sunglasses, a Neutrogena tinted lip gloss and a nude nail polish (because you just never know...)  Now is probably the time to admit that during this process, I found my bag to be embarrassingly full of things that should never be in someone's bag.  Enter exhibit A:  an industrial exact-o knife.  For my anniversary with my boyfriend, I decided to make a frame of two people cut out of the maps (also in my bag) that represent our home states - Pennsylvania and New Jersey.  Thank you, Pinterest.  However, our anniversary was September 1st and I'm still carrying it in my bag.....unfinished.  Maybe next year.    Face wipes - every runners necessity, allergy medicine, a notebook, a perfect travel sized pen and an umbrella round out the necessities in my bag.  Due to the recent Back on My Feet Annual Bash, I'm still carrying around about 100 invitations to that, too.  And, because you never know when you need a Quotable Card, I'm equipped with that as well. 

This was such a fun and quite interesting exercise!  Now I'm off to the doctor because my shoulder hurts from carrying this nonsense everywhere!! 

The Beatles and Birthdays

Recently I had a birthday.  Nothing special as far as ages go, except as one friend pointed out: "I won't be able to divide my birthday by 11 again for another few years".  So, as I stated, nothing special as ages go.  But just as each year that passes makes birthdays less exciting, each year that passes makes birthdays more special.  The build up that occurred in your teens and twenties really loses it's flair in your thirties.  There's no countdown to midnight so that you can hit the bars for a billion and two shots.  There's no lamenting with friends about how life is over at 25.  The day comes along with a change in digits on the race entries, and the day goes.  And as much as that is true, it's totally not true.  

Each year I find that the special things that my friends and family, namely Heather and my mom for the past ten years, do for me leave even more of a mark on my heart.  Every year Heather surprises me with something - a cupcake happy hour at Whole Foods, a dinner with friends, a light show in Logan Square to name just a few.  I remember each little thing as if it were yesterday.  The older you become, the more you realize that it's the people in your life, not the places or the cost or the extravaganza.  Even those who only remember because Facebook reminds them have taken the time to post on your wall.  The text messages, the cards, the phone calls and the simple 140 character tweets all remind me of the different phases of my life and how much they have shaped me to be the person that I am today.  Life passes so quickly. I can't believe that I'm thirty-three already.  Then I look back at my life as a teenager, and how I draw from my parents lessons to this day.  (...I also draw from my learned ability to sneak alcohol into a water bottle...).  Life in your twenties seemed difficult, but I met my best friend then and can't imagine my life without her.  I moved out of my comfort zone more than once, and learned much about myself, my life and the kind of person that I want to be.  I had my heart broken, my heart warmed and found a way to pick myself up again more than once.  Each and every time life threw a curve ball, I've been able to look back at the hard learned lesson that I can take forward.  I think about my relationships in the my twenties.  Sheesh.  What was I thinking??  I fell in love three times..  They are all good people, but they weren't the wonderful one for me.  I look back on each relationship and can tell you what I learned from it - what I realized for the next time that I need to be successful in a loving relationship.  I thank all of them for that (...not so much for the heartbreak that accompanied).  I rocketed into my thirties and have found love and strength from the first 30 years, as well as the amazing folks at Back on My Feet who have not only inspired me but have befriended me, even when it's 5:30AM and I haven't brushed my hair let alone my teeth.  My steps to date have led me to an amazing man who brings all of the things that I was looking for in prior relationships and loves me just the same.  We have our flaws, but every aspect of my life has had minor bumps, breaks and blemishes  The past three decades have enabled me to be closer with my mother, my father and my brother.  They made me what I hope is a better friend to those around me and a better colleague at work.  

Lucky for me, my life is full of love.  The Beatles said that 'all you need is love', and you know what, I believe it.  If you love people, they love you back; if you love your life, it will produce the great things that you ask of it; if you love yourself, things will ultimately be easier in the long run (maybe not the Saturday morning miles kind of long run...).  Love positions us to be everything that we've ever expected out of life and a whole lot more.  I don't really LOVE being thirty-three, but I love everything that got me here and will eventually settle into loving what this year brings me too.

Until then, happy birthday to me (and Sophia Loren and Amina Wirjosemito.)

Peplum and Other Flowy Tops

Ugh. My jeans don't fit. And let's be honest, they haven't for a while. Sure, they button, but I'm best to wear a flowy, thicker structure top to hide anything less flattering. Thank you peplum for being so en vogue these days. 

I just don't get it.  My training plan is packed with more than I'd like to do in a week yet there just isn't enough time.  Yes, I know that I should have a consistent yoga class.  Yes, I realize that pilates and barre classes are good for my butt.  Absolutely I'd like to do more strength training.  But short of a morning and an evening workout every day, the hard cardio session wins out over the yoga every time.  How do people do this?  Gone are the days of dedicating all of my free time to working out.  That simply leads to frustration and burn out.  And let's face it, the results aren't knock out either.  It left me exhausted with only a handful of truly meaningful workouts each week.  What's it going to take?

About eight weeks ago I started a new training plan to prepare for Rock n' Roll Philadelphia.  I'm not usually a fan of running races in the hometown but needed a goal and needed to get my butt in gear.  Hence, the $90 was gone in an Active minute.  Rather than my standard five days a week of running, I dropped to four days with two swim days and one bike day.  The strength training and core workout did not make enough appearance.  Rock n' Roll has come and gone.  It was pathetic.  I was embarrassed, out of shape and generally disgruntled with my performance.  Of sixteen half marathons, it was the worst.  I remember the first ones that I ran and how they felt better than I did out on Kelly Drive slowly crumbling to an embarrassing finish.  Hell, I considered tripping myself so that I would have a better excuse for being so slow.  

Again, what's it going to take?  I'm not the healthiest eater on the planet, but I am certainly aware.  My life has far too much yogurt and romaine lettuce in it than I would like.  ...not at the same time of course.  Do I indulge in the cookie or the ice cream?  Of course.  Depravation is not in my vocabulary, nor do I find it a healthy way to attempt to lose weight.  

I think what frustrates me the most is the fact that I even need to think about this.  A girl who works out and eats healthy should not spend her time staring in a mirror wondering where everything went so wrong.  They say that as females get older, their bodies settle in and weight is supposed to even out.  They also say that metabolism slows dramatically.  I'm not sure who "they" are, but they aren't helping me any.  The only thing that appears to have settled is my sagging booty.  You know what else makes this twice as fun?  Men.  Men can drop weight unintentionally in their sleep.  Joe trains for a triathlon and people wonder if he's sick due to the amount of weight that has fallen off of his body.  Okay, so it WAS an Ironman, but still.  I could do every workout that he does and would probably GAIN weight!!  What gives?!

Alas, I hate to rant.  Plus, I need to get out for a run.  However I'm open to advice, tips, tricks, and new workouts.  Being in your thirties is much harder on the body, but I'm certainly less stubborn these days - I'll take the help where I can find it!!  

Happy Thursday and Happy Workouts!

Lies of Protection

As I type this title, I can't help but wonder if lies to protect someone actually exist. I've spent the past 36 hours pondering whether someone can actually lie to spare your feelings or whether lying is a purely selfish move that only protects those who serve to deliver them. 

"I didn't tell you because I knew that it would hurt you" is an overused lying crutch.  Um, have you taken the time to think about the facts that A) you're doing something that you need to cover up and B) lying to someone may actually hurt them more than simply being honest?  The Oxford dictionary (who, mind you, just added YOLO and twerking so keep your credibility at arm’s length...) defines "white lie" as 'a harmless or trivial lie, especially one told to avoid hurting someone’s feelings'.  Society has accepted the white lie as normal, and it seems as though people turn a blind eye to these actions.  The "little white lie" is often coupled with "what he/she don't know won't hurt him/her".  But who are you really protecting with your white lies and your lack of communication?  In my opinion, only you.  You are protecting your own ass, your own ego, your own arrogance and your need for secrecy.  Please, spare me the "protection" while you're scheming to keep yourself safe.  

Lies are insanely painful regardless of whether they seem inconsequential or are elaborate and intentional.  In the moment in which you stop to decide that you are going to tell a lie, you can also decide that you're going to tell the truth.  And when you're rationalizing with yourself that this is the best thing for the affected party, please take a moment to remind yourself that this is really the best thing for yourself, and not anyone else.  Lies never stay hidden.  In fact, hiding a lie is harder than finishing the toughest race or the most difficult assignment at work.  One lie becomes two lies and two lies becomes a story that you  may need to remember for the next 70 years of your life.  Eventually the memories of your lie will wear thin and you will be exposed for the distrustful fool that you are.  Once trust is gone in any relationship, it may never return.  Even when both parties work to repair a relationship fractured by lies, it may take years before the injured party finds a way to trust again.  Is that really worth the lie, or the duration of time that may be spent in the doghouse (most likely a lot shorter than had you decided to lie)?  My guess is no.  

In a very serendipitous fashion, I came across a blog this week written by a man who had recently divorced after 16 years of marriage.  Whatever the man had done had caused his wife to pack up and present the dreaded paperwork that signals the end of an era.   He wrote a list of twenty tips that will keep your marriage going.  Advice, as he stated, that he wish that he would have received.  Now, I'm clearly not a man and I've never been married, but the list is rather relevant in any relationship.  When I reached number 16 I wanted to scream, "YES! THANK YOU!!  IS IT REALLY THAT DIFFICULT?!!".  Had I not been sitting at my computer in the office, I may have actually reacted this way.  Instead, I retweeted the article to remind myself any time that I deserve honesty and transparency from those that love me.  As he states, "If you want to have trust you must be willing to share EVERYTHING… Especially those things you don’t want to share. It takes courage to fully love, to fully open your heart and let her in when you don’t know i she will like what she finds…"

I  know that love and relationships don't come easy.  They take work, sacrifice and dedication.  However, they also require courage, trust and openness - three things that are ruined by a lie.  Lies don't protect the one that you are lying to, regardless of what you have convinced yourself.  They may protect the liar for a while, but even he/she will be exposed eventually.  They don't serve a bigger purpose and don't build us into stronger, more selfless people. If we spent more time putting someone else's feelings above our own, I would have to imagine that the temptation to lie would decrease knowing that the someone else's feelings do not benefit.  

It's posts like this that remind me as to why I write this blog.  It's not for other people to read and follow, despite that being an added perk.  It's really to get my thoughts out and visible for me to evaluate.  The 36 hours prior to this post and the 500 words of thinking that accompanied have made it much easier for me to process a lot of my thoughts.  Life comes with a good number of ups, downs and days that feel like your roller coaster has multiple upside down loops.   The best we can do is try to maneuver through them with whatever help comes our way.  Thankfully sometimes the best help comes in the form of an updated diary - the blog.

Seeing White

Wow, it's been a month since I've posted a blog. I've thought about it a lot but can't seem to pull together multiple lines of coherent thought process in order to post something. Life is crazy. We're moving out of the Hamptons as the summer wraps up. The packing has commenced. Work doesn't seem to slow down ever. My training plan continues whether I'm thrilled about it or not. Does anyone actually LOVE to run in August?? However through it all, we were able to take a break last Thursday for a night that easily makes it feel as though the real world has stopped around you: Diner en Blanc. 

Diner en Blanc started in Paris. It's a surprise location pop up picnic at an unlikely urban setting. Attendees bring one guest, wear all white, bring a white table and white chairs and their own dinner. Last year was its first year in Philadelphia, and the bestie and I lucky to score a spot. We made the walk to our meeting location and were led to Logan Square for an amazing dinner location. The fountain on as the sun set made the first year in Philly an instant success. Last year's registration got me on the A-list for this year. Whether he liked it or not (read: not), Joe was on the hook for 2013 as Heather was to be Chicago for work. 

Unfortunately the date came faster than my planning. White table?  Nope. Chairs?  Definitely not. And men's white pants?  Um, hell no. Hello Amazon Prime. It's a beautiful offering. Free two day shipping on two perfect white folding chairs and the only men's pants available. Eek, dare I reveal a men's 30x34 white slim fit taper. They should have simply written "snug. really snug" in the description online. Whew. Safe to say that they will magically get 'lost' in our move this weekend, I'd say. Anyway, they solved the problem of Joe's attire and our seating. A quick mouse click later and I'd rented yet another stunning dress from Rent the Runway. (Don't know of it? Definitely Google it. Best decision ever.) White dress. Check. A bonus buy: the tan rolling picnic basket from Amazon. Best $40 ever spent. Ever. The table didn't come so easy. White, square, no more than 32" square. Walmart, Target, Ikea, Kohls, Kmart, Home Depot and Staples. No, no, no, no, no, no and no. Oh boy. Lowes to the rescue. We'll order it online and quickly pick it up at the store after work on Wednesday. Despite some questionable customer service and 90 minutes in Lowes, the table did come home that night. Whew. Okay. A quick Whole Foods stop on Thursday at lunch and we'll be all set.  ...and this is just the planning phase. 

By 6:00PM on Thursday, Joe and I were making our way to our group leader's meeting location:  Market East Regional Rail entrance. It was pretty clear that this year would require a train. I didn't spend a lot time speculating on the location because its always impossible to figure it out. After a short wait we were instructed to take a train to 30th Street Station and wait for instruction. Hundreds of people in white attire piling onto the train with tables chairs and various forms of picnic baskets. My apologies again to the poor folks who were simply trying to get home from work. Talk about a [confusing] nuisance for them!!  Before we even pulled into 30th Street it was clear that the location was setting up on the JFK bridge between 30th Street Station and 21st Street. Traffic was diverted, almost 3000 people were piling in and the city was continuing to muscle through their nightly routine around us. Beautiful. 

Dinner was tasty and our table-mates to the left and right were lovely.  But it was the conscious thought to stop and look around that was truly fascinating.  Looking down over the bridge, people are running on the River path; looking to the right to see people making their way home on 676.  These people are still caught up in the monotony of the ritual on a Thursday evening.  Luckily, for just a few hours, I was able to put a pause on that life and enjoy the moment.  

Success Stories

It's odd how major themes can suddenly show up in multiples places in life all around the same time.  This past week has focused around success. What is success?  Who defines it?  Can success be different for different people?  

Last week I attended my monthly Women @Thomson Reuters Steering Committee meeting in order to discuss our 2014 objectives. The meeting started off by talking about whether the group has been successful in achieving its mission, which intends to support and encourage the success of female colleagues. It's easy to think that success is defined by promotions, increased financial gain or more exposure on larger projects. However, I have to believe that success is defined within each individual. There are excellent employees who aren't jockeying for that next promotion. There are employees who strive to be better at what they are currently doing.  There are employees who think that personal growth doesn't result from breaking down the glass ceiling. Success is a very personal feeling. It varies from person to person, even from day to day. Even a third party can build you up and break you down when it relates to how one views success. 

The day after the definition of success was fresh in my mind, Joe and I packed our bags to head to Lake Placid for his Ironman. He'd trained for 28 weeks and the time was finally here. The 6.5 hour drive brought anxiety and excitement. We talked about seeing family, seeing friends and enjoying some time away from work. What we didn't discuss was the possibility of not completing the 140.6 mile race that has consumed so much of Joe's energy and so much of our relationship. I'm sure experts would tell you that preparing yourself for the chance that you can't finish is accepting defeat before you start, but I can tell you as I live and breathe that I would have been much better off had I been prepared. The swim was kick ass and the bike was everything we expected of 112 miles in the saddle. Joe was on point and feeling strong...until he wasn't. At mile 16 of the run, things slipped beyond his control and the right decision was made to pull off the course and out of competition. Words can't describe the range of emotions that both Joe and I have felt since that day. I cant claim to know what's in his head but I know what I've seen him experience. The devastation. The disappointment. The let down, and the pain of thinking that you've let everyone down. The anger. The regret. With 10 miles to go, should something have been different?  Personally, I wonder if I could have done more to help him. If I could have just been at the right spot on the course when he needed someone most. I'm devastated for him. I feel the same range of emotions that anyone feels when someone that they deeply care for is hurting inside. However Joe's and my thought processes differ at one point along the emotional train, and that point is when defining success. To me the 28 dedicated, determined weeks of exhilarating training were the measure of success. To Joe, crossing the finish line with Mike Reilly deeming you an Ironman is the only route to success. While my heart breaks for his disappointment, it beams with pride when I think about the determination it took to get to the start line. Just being able to show up at an event of that nature and know that you can compete on 140 miles of grueling activity is the epitome of success for me.

As I mentioned before, success is so personal. What others see as obvious success can feel like complete failure to someone else. We needn't be so hard on ourselves all of the time. Relish in your successes, big and small. And if you can't see a clear success in your day, look harder. They are out there just waiting to be celebrated. For women in the workplace, we need to acknowledge those successes more and get others to recognize them as well. For those endurance athletes out there that feel like the only success comes with someone else telling you that you're a winner, I boldly disagree. The courage to try, train, work, commit, dedicate yourself and show up on race day with all of the desire in the world makes you a clear success. Maybe if we could just see ourselves like others see us, success wouldn't be so hard to find. 

Summer Fun

Ah summertime. The sun is out, people are heading to the beach and All-Star break has just finished so America is fixated on the second half of the Major League Baseball season. It's a perfect life for most. As for us, we're apartment hunting. 

As I've mentions previously, we are only summering in the Hamptons, which means that the beginning of July brought on apartment searching. It's fun...for about a minute. In theory it is fun to look at homes around the city to see how people have renovated or decorated. However in process it's much less appealing. It's hot. They are sticky and muggy. You like some, you hate some, most you don't see yourself living in. Joe and I looked at four apartments in a week. We were scheduled to see five, but stood outside of the fifth for 25 minutes in the 100' heat with another prospective tenant while the landlord never showed. One less to worry about, I suppose. More time to address the dehydration that settled in while I was waiting. 

In the spirit of apartment hunting, I've developed a top ten list of do's and dont's when seeking your new home:

1. Do use Zillow.com. It's easy to use, has great mapping features and shows everything for rent in one area on one screen. 

2. Don't even consider a third floor walk up that doesn't have central air. It may be "great in the winter since heat rises" but on these 90' summer days, every room feels like you're standing in the shower. 

3. Do consider your potential Landlord's reading material and discussion topics upon first meeting. There is nothing wrong with reading Christian Science Monitor, however it may not be the chosen reading material when your prospective tenants arrive. This followed by a quick Republican jab about Global Warming makes us unlikely to engage in further discussions. We may not disagree with your views, but don't need to talk religion and politics with a near stranger who would have a key to our home. 

4. Don't try to talk yourself into an area because the rent is reasonable. The rent is reasonable for a reason.  

5. Do make sure to inquire about utilities costs on top of the rent. Paying for water in a multi-unit building could result in you paying for your neighbors gardening hobby. 

6. Don't think that an unresponsive landlord is going to change. If it takes him/her multiple days to reply to your inquiry about the available apartment, nothing is going to change about their responsiveness once you move in. The toilet will be long overflowed by then. 

7. Do evaluate your access to a stash of quarters. Can you see yourself walking to the laundromat every week for hours?  Despite a beautiful apartment, not having a washer and dryer at our disposal (without having to dig up enough quarters to wash and dry) was a deal breaker on our end. 

8. Don't be blinded by the "Beautiful Victorian style spiral staircase". It's metal, it's narrow, it's taking up almost all of the useable space in your living room AND there is no question that you'll fall down it. Period.  

9. Do ask about previous pets. Then take that answer and consider your allergies. Cat hair never really goes away. Nor do your allergies. And take it from me, a perpetual stuffy nose is not hot. 

10. Don't see apartments in the middle of the day when the crazy neighbors are at work. Before you know, you're moved into an apartment with rice paper for walls and the couple to your left is amidst a divorce - she throws dishes and he brings his new(est) girlfriend into the spare room. 

We were lucky to find an apartment in our desired area in a short amount of time. The landlord appears to be attentive and reasonable. I may eat my words on that one, but for now I'm simply going to enjoy the end of the apartment hunting process. Cheers to city living, and happy hunting!

Oh, Hello Officer

The day started off so promising.  Joe was up by 4AM and out the door for his century ride by 5AM.  He left me sleeping peacefully, and I had my own big plans for the day.  I'll rest just a bit more, get up early to conquer my long run on Forbidden Drive before the heat starts climbing into the 90's.  

Fail.

All. Around. Fail.

First of all, that "rest a bit more" turned into sleeping until 8:45AM.  So much for getting up early to beat the heat.  No biggie.  I'll get a swim workout today, and try this whole scenario again tomorrow.  First, a little email and Facebook catch up...

Before I can continue, I must go back a few weeks to set the stage.  I got my first iPhone 4 in 2011.  As I was approaching my 2 year upgrade date, my phone started acting up, deleting my contacts almost weekly.  Can you imagine how long it takes to go through each and every text message to add friends and family back into your phone?  Let's just say, a long time.  So I head into the Verizon store to seek their advice. Long story short, they advise me to send it back to Verizon and they would ship me a new one for free. I wasn't quite to my upgrade date and the rumor mill has been buzzing about the new iPhone 6 in a few short months. Done. 

Fast forward a few weeks and Verizon calls me to tell me that the damage to my phone was not mechanical and therefore they are charging me $299 for the iPhone 4S that was sent to me. I call customer service who directs me to go into the store. I'm in Verizon for almost 2 hours before the helpful sales guy (mind you, NOT the same guy as take 1) gets them to agree to take the phone back which leaves me needing to upgrade or not have a phone. Fine. I leave with a lot less money and an iPhone 5. If I had wanted to spent $200 on a phone, I wouldn't have agreed to the whole swap and exchange the first time. Alas, the directions were simple "go online and print a return shipping label to send back your old phone". Keep in mind that I specifically asked about my bill as this charge had been sitting there for a few weeks at this point and i had not intention of paying it. "No, no, no. At least 90 days before that". Good, good. A few days pass because naturally my life doesn't revolve around Verizon. 

...and that brings us back to Saturday. 

So, I reach for my phone to check my email. Low and behold, no service. Damn you Verizon!!!  It takes a few calls to find out that they need to snail mail a return address label. Seven to ten days?!  What year is this? Anywho, the service interruption was a mistake, it's all back in place and my return address label is on its way. One thing down. 

Make the bed, tidy up the bedroom, head downstairs.....

OH GOD!  WHAT IS THAT SOUND??  Joe had set the home alarm system when he left and forgot to bypass the sensor. Oh god. Make it stop. I race upstairs for my phone as I have NO idea how to turn it off. Four consecutive calls to Joe go unanswered. One call to Heather meets voicemail. All the while this thing is piercing my eardrums. It sounds like a fire engine is in my living room. I quickly grab the manual and am furiously flipping through pages to find the answer. Eventually I get the dumb thing silenced. It went on long enough, however, that I'm pretty sure Philly PD is going to show up shortly. I wait a bit, avoiding hopping in the shower for fear I'd get out to a sight if policemen putting an axe through my front door. So, I decide to try on my bikinis to see which one to wear for my afternoon pool trip (part 2 - the non-fitness edition). Juuuuust about the time I pull on the bottoms, there it is. The knock at my front door. While I'm in a bikini. Of course I can't find anything to put on as a coverup as I race downstairs to greet the officer on my stoop. In a bikini. At 10:30AM. In a home that was just alerting the entire neighborhood that someone tripped the alarm in the house. We share a few pleasantries, I apologize for being an idiot and he asks for my ID. I quickly produce my license that still reflects my previous address. He quickly scans and says, "Well, the address doesn't match but it looks like you're pretty comfortable here unless you've broken in and put on someone's bathing suit". Fabulous. Now I look and FEEL like an idiot. At least he's on his way and I'm on mine. 

(Note: Little did I know that I was going to see him the next day at the gas station. Luckily he didn't recognize me fully dressed)

My heart is still racing when I finally get a call from Joe. He's definitely frustrated, though I come to find out that it wasn't over my antics with the alarm. (And by antics I mean that it's his fault, not mine!!). Joe sliced his tire about 40 miles into his ride and had to hitchhike to a bike shop to get new tubes and tires. Bad day all around. Thank you to the kind man who picked him up and drove him there safely. 

Finally Heather and I were off to the pool. A swim and then lunch in Manayunk and a search for a local pool to hang for the afternoon. Did you know that there are 70 public pools in Philadelphia??  We ended up skipping the public pool and relaxing on Kelly Drive for a bit. The day ended much better than it started. My cell phobe is in working order, Joe's tires are fixed, my heart is beating normally again and I've learned how to silence the alarm. Oh, and we went to the movies to see The Heat. If you haven't checked out this blockbuster, you MUST go!! Definitely the comedy of the summer!!  

...With a Side of Crazy

Most times life flows along without too much thought.  I assume that things are true because I have no reason to believe otherwise.  I assume that people are good because I have not seen them do anything to change that thinking.  I believe in the positive, in love, in kind hearts and in honest people because that's what makes the most sense for me.  However you can't always stop the mind for doing it's own thing.  Its so easy to find the bad or to assume the worst, and while it's not the best trajectory to allow your brain to follow, at times it's unstoppable.  I so affectionately refer to this as "The Crazy".  

Last week, I ordered a small side of The Crazy for a few consecutive days.  I'd like to think that I'm not the only one that ever experiences this.  Likely there are ladies out there who have similar insecure moments that lead to a landslide of The Crazy.  For those of you who have the luxury of not experiencing this, let me try to explain.  The Crazy begins when you hear something/see something/read something that makes you question everything that you believe to be true around facet of life.  For me, it was relationship.  Over the past ten months, I have not questioned it's stability for a moment.  However once I bought my ticket on the Crazy Train, everything started to crumble.  I'll spare you the details around where The Crazy began, but what started as brief self doubt quickly snowballed into a full scale panic of whether I was in a relationship in which I was only perceiving to be perfect.  "How could I be so naive?  How did I not see this? And SHIT I just moved everything I own into this place.  What an idiot."  It's so easy to let irrational thought process take over.  No one wants to be deceived; no one wants to be lied to. 

I've had some crappy relationships, and with their departure came the promise to never forget what happened and to always follow my gut.  It's a conscious decision every day to not make the current and the future pay for the past.  Here I was standing face to face with the reality that I'd been deceived in the past and I'm now projecting this on the current (and the future, assuming I can keep The Crazy at bay long enough...)  I'd already lost a night of sleep over this and it was time to gently broach the conversation.  As the words came out of my mouth, I could hear how crazy it sounded.  I could have been standing on the roof of my lovely Hamptons estate screaming "I'M TERRIFIED THAT YOU'LL LEAVE ME", and I wouldn't have sounded any less nuts.  Every few minutes I'd try to tell myself to shut up.  "You sound bonkers.  Off the deep end.  Over the edge."  However, the words flowed like verbal vomit.  My insecurities poured out like the massive leak in our kitchen.  And when there was nothing left to say, he was still sitting there.  He hadn't run or fought me or affirmed The Crazy [out loud].  And exactly one week later, he's still sitting there, right next to me.

Is Joe perfect?  No.  Does he do things that I don't understand that make me self conscious?  At times.  Is it intentional?  No.  I can say this with the most certainty that a girl crazy in love can find.  And while I can't guarantee that my sanity will remain intact all the time, what I know is the best relationships bring you back from the deep end stronger than ever.  The morning after 'Grossly Insecure Thursday', I went for a run.  I was by myself, it was hot and I was far from hydrated, but I needed to time spent with my sneakers.  It didn't clear out the questions or the reasons that I had gotten to that place, but it did remind me that I'm still me.  And the only way that I know how to be me is to love with all that I have.  People are going to do what they are going to do, and if you're lucky they'll do all the things that make you feel great.  But even if they don't, believe that the decisions that you've made to look for the positive in those around you will strengthen the most important love - the one with yourself.  

The Newlywed Game

For those of you who don't know, Joe is training for his first full Ironman. An Ironman consists of a 2.4mile swim, 112mile bike ride and a full marathon. The limitation is 17 hours to finish. It's crazy, but what's crazier is the training involved. For the past 24 weeks, Joe has trained morning and night on the bike, in the pool, in a spin class, on a run or in the gym. Lets face it, he's pretty buff right now and it's a wonderful perq (wink, wink), but its also left a lot of time to myself. Some of the time is spent wondering why I don't work out more, but the rest I've been able to fill with more interesting activities, like watching cable. 

Before moving in with Joe I hadn't had cable for almost 8 years. It just hasn't been a priority and frankly, it's never worth the money. However, this past weekend I had an opportunity to watch four episodes of The Newlywed Game. Who knew that this show was back on the air??  Sherry Sheppard hosts and is quite humorous. So, as I say watching I began to see of I could answer the questions about my own relationship. That's when Sherry asked the best question. The gist of the question was what your husband would say is your pet peeve. This is great. My pet peeve?  Everything. Seriously. Chewing with your mouth open. Yes. Chomping loudly on your gum. Definitely. Sniffing rather than blowing your nose. Ugh. Biting your cuticles. Just stop!!  

Are pet peeves genetic?  Do we develop them from bad experiences?  Can they be overcome?  Do you get new ones as you age, like allergies?  So many questions. 

However, if Joe and I ever find ourselves on The Newlywed Game, we've now established the answer to be "Everything" for me and for him: "The sheer number of per peeves that I have about him". Fair. I'll take it. In the meantime, chew with your mouth closed. 

Dear Diary

For the past three weeks, I've joked about my new life outside of city limits. I've casually ragged on my boyfriend for slowly adjusting to our new life as roommates. I've groaned about Septa, only on time when I'm running late. But the fact of the matter is, I couldn't be happier to come home to someone like Joe every night. He is warm and understanding; he loves me even when he realizes that he'll never be right. So, today's rambles are dedicated to him ( despite the fact that he barely knows what a blog is let alone knowing that I'm blogging...)

Dear Joe,

First and foremost, thank you. Thank you for being there even when I think that I don't want you there. Thank you for opening doors and making dinner. Thank you for watching endless episodes of Say Yes to the Dress without so much as an audible sigh. Thank you for listening to my baby crazy rants and not hopping on that billion dollar bike of yours and heading the other way. Thank you for letting my three year old niece call you 'Tuti' in public. Thank you for knowing that all of the laundry beyond towels and sheets is out of your league. Thank you for serving as my personal chauffeur even when you have no interest in the destination. Thank you for knowing I'm a control freak and just letting that happen. Yes, I know it's easier for you this way too. I'm not always the easiest to deal with and somehow you fumble through on a daily basis, now from sun up to sun down. 

I jest quite a bit about marriage...and frankly most of it isn't jesting really. When I say to get on the horn and invest in a diamond, I mean that. Like, yesterday. Gravity is going to take over soon and I'm not getting any younger. But, until that time, I'm content with the life that I'm fortunate enough to lead by your side every day. 

Thank you for perfection. It may not look like someone else's perfection, but in my eyes, it couldn't get much sweeter. 

I love you, Roomie. 

Life is good. It's easy to forget sometimes, but should never be ignored. I'm a lucky girl, and not just in this relationship. 

Suburbs Time

I've been volunteering with an organization called Back on My Feet for approximately three and a half years.  It's an amazing non-profit that uses running as a vehicle to build self-confidence and ultimately sustainability in the homeless population.  Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 5:30AM, we meet at Saint John's Hospice to run 2, 3 or 4 miles.  Its a great start to the day, physically AND mentally.  

Though, it used to be so easy.  Wake up at 4:50AM, lay in bed for 10 minutes wondering who else gets up this early, hop out of bed and run around like a maniac trying to find everything that I need to dash out of the house by 5:15AM and run down to meet with the team. Chaotic, but my routine nonetheless.  Until I moved to the Hamptons.  For a week, I still tried to get up at 4:50AM.  First mistake.  Do I have amnesia in the mornings??  I would still race around like crazy and have to run almost a mile to my Zipcar before driving the 15+ minutes into Center City.  This goes without saying:  I was late.  Every morning.  

Suburbs time is kind of like the overtime of life.  It takes time and a half to accomplish anything due to the extra cushion of time needed to get to the car or get from the car.  I can't simply walk out of my door and walk to work.  I need to memorize the Septa schedule (which, mind you, never changes on paper but never stays the same in actuality), and be out of the house 10 minutes prior to walk to the station.  Then there is the 15 minute walk to work from the station.  Whew, I'm finally at the office.  Is it time to go home yet?

Thankfully I'm adjusting to this new schedule.  It's a complete shift from the life that I was leading that allowed me to be just 30 seconds behind if I wanted to be.  Just in case you don't know, Septa is not real keen on waiting for me to arrive.  Hmph.  I haven't missed a train in an entire week, though!  The man-friend appreciates it greatly as with every minute that I make us later and later, that little vein in the middle of his forehead starts to bulge just a little...bit...more.

...'til Septa do us part, honey.  I love you.

Counting the days

Boy oh boy.

In the last five days, I've moved all of my belongings in heat that makes hell seem relaxing and restful, I've driven to New York, attended a wedding, sat through 4 innings and a rain delay in Yankee Stadium, and returned to my new home in the Hamptons around 1AM this morning.  I love a full life, but I. Am. Exhausted.

(In a related side note:  have you seen this? http://wapc.mlb.com/nyy/play/?content_id=27700845&topic_id=47150750&c_id=nyy)

However today I woke up for the first time in my new home.  Despite the pouring rain, that we soon found out was flooding our kitchen, I was so excited that we're finally sharing a home.  In my mind, we would wake up and go about our morning routines in order to head out on our first of many joint commutes to our respective offices.  We'd share a quick smooch and head off for what would be the best Monday all year.....

....at this point, if you haven't watched the video above, please do.  You can liken what follows to that type of startling crash of thunder....

So, the morning routine started just fine despite the shower going a weeeeee bit cold on me.  GOOD MORNING!  I really need to unpack my belongings.  I think that I spent more time this morning looking for things to wear than I did psychically getting ready to leave.  We had a rental car from the weekend that we needed to return, so it was out the door a bit early to head over to drop the car before taking the train to work.  Aforementioned rain still hitting us with cats & dogs, the morning commute by car was slower than slow.  Crawling.  People who drive to work in Philadelphia every day deserve a medal of courage.  All the while, the man-friend was staring at his watch, deeply sighing and growing more anxious by the second.  By the time we had gotten to the car drop off, we were both anxious.  I was not even late for work, or risking be late for work, but I was already thinking that I need a stiff drink.  8:15AM EST equals 5:00PM somewhere.  I was able to distract myself with trying to do the math on what country is currently 5PM for a little time, however the intensity of Joe's sighing and anxiety brought me back to reality. We finally  hop on a short train ride from 30th Street Station to Suburban Station - one stop, a few minutes and a lot of clock watching.  It hits me at this time that I've also forgotten to grab my Rent the Runway dress that needs to be returned today. Shit. This is where I finally start to fall apart.  I start thinking about how lovely my walks to work were just one week ago.  The peace, the music of my iPod and an easy start to my day.  I start to speak to Joe in a tone that resembles talking to your teenager about the responsibilities that accompany wanting to borrow the car.   "You are completely off the deep end" I remember myself saying in a low, calculated tone.  The train ride is quick, however my build up of angst is not.  Since you likely don't know me, it's fair to tell you that I cry a lot.  I cry over happy, over sad, over uncertainty, over everything.  And this morning was no exception.  As I exited the train trying to manage my own anxiety and my boyfriends distress, the tears start to well up.  I have 89 more days of East Falls living; is it ALL going to be like this? Joe & I stop to say our good-byes for the day, including a few apologies from his end while the tears stream down my cheek.  What is happening?!  Just as we're about to part for the morning, one of Philadelphia's lovely Subarban Station dwellers says in a muffled voice "Don't break up.  Wait until the afternoon".  And with that, I was off to make it a better day.  And with a small blessing from above, this day has been better than it began.  I will trek back to the train to head home and hope that tomorrow is a bit smoother.  This cohabitation thing is going to take some adjustment.  A lot of adjustment....

The Hamptons

Every responsible adult dreams of having a place in the Hamptons, right?  Big homes, beachfront property, peaceful sunsets away from the world...  Well, I'm in luck!  I've secured myself a place in the Hamptons for the summer!!

Okay, that was a lie.  

With the decision to move in with Joe (otherwise known as the man-friend), I will be vacating my apartment for June, July & August and moving into his place until the lease ends.  At that time, we will be relocating back to Center City, Philadelphia to find a home that we plan to inhabit for quite some time.  So, in essence I'm summering outside of the city this year.  It may not be the Hamptons, but it still has water views, quaint outdoor dining and the still quiet that comes with vacation homes.  Some call it East Falls; I call it the Hamptons.  

While I will try to enjoy my summer away from the craziness of Center City, I have spent a lot of time thinking about the transition.  In the 3+ years that I've lived in Philadelphia, I've been able to walk everywhere.  I've enjoyed Sips on Wednesdays and the ease of jogging down to Lloyd Hall on Saturday mornings.  Its going to be a huge adjustment for me to take the train to work, followed by a quick walk to the office, rather than simply rolling out my front door and strolling to the office in 10 minutes.  I've become rather accustomed to hearing the sirens roaring down the street or the drunk patrons stumbling loudly out of the bar around the corner.  It helps me sleep; the chaos of the city has become my sound machine. Its official:  this born and raised country girl has become a city girl.  However, we sacrifice for those that we love so these three months will serve to further solidify the love for the best man in my life and the city that I've come to hold so dear.

So, while Diddy is throwing his annual White Party, I'll be countering with a one time only White Party of my own - the White [Trash] Party.  Come one, come all....and bring your best cut-off denim shorts, white of course.

Step One

In exactly seven days I will be moving my last box out of my current single girl pad that I've shared with my best friend for the past three years into my boyfriend's apartment.  *gasp*  Sometimes it feels like I've just run through a sprinkler of really cold water.  Yes, I love him and yes, I couldn't be happier to finally be taking this step in our life.  However, I'm 32 and have established a pretty good single girl routine.  I've gotten used to sleeping in the middle of my bed, donned with purple sheets.  No one complains about my terrible (read: lack of) cooking.  The only laundry that piles up fits a girl of about 5'6" and is usually washed on Sundays.  I have a routine, people!  Alas, it's time.  If I ever want the heavily desired finger bling and the wedding of my dreams followed by a blissful marriage and little ginger-topped children, we must at some point cohabit.  

(random side note:  did you know that 'cohabitate' isn't a word?  I should really spend more happy hours with Merriam & Webster rather than Kendall and Jackson)

At any rate, the aforementioned "last box" would imply that I've packed a first box......uhhhh......I hate packing.  Who doesn't?!  In my defense, I've packed two boxes at this point.  I've spent a lot more of my time ordering a new comforter for the bed that will now be considered "ours".  Who knew it would be so hard to find a comforter that I like AND that still retains some of the masculinity that help the man-friend to forget how much of his own independence he will sacrifice come June 1st?  Based on my recent research, men like comforters that resemble ties - navy, striped, or striped navy.  And while we're on the topic of a man's bedding, why don't they use blankets?  Is there an aversion to the layer between the sheet and the comforter?  I may never know....

Back to the packing topic.  I've made an attempt to go through a lot of my clothing and shoes and make a pile to donate.  However, I've found this to be distracting.  I have no problem committing to give clothes away, but while doing so it happens to strike me that I wear sweatpants to bed A LOT.  So, just as you would expect, I abandoned the clothing sort for a quick to Victoria'sSecret.com.  Having The Man know that I wear sweatpants to bed six days a week?  No-go.  New, cute, feminine pajamas?  Yep.  Consider it done.  Oh, and quickly scrap the packaging that reveals new purchases.  Gotta keep up appearances here, folks.  When he finally figures out how much of a control freak I am, at least I'll be doing it in some sexy pj's.  

All kidding aside, next week begins an adventure with the man of my dreams.  I couldn't be happier to start this journey together.  He's a wonderful man with a high tolerance for my bullsh!t.  That alone makes him the most amazing man I've ever met.  Combine that with the many other things that he brings to this relationship and I couldn't be more grateful to have the opportunity to spend my days with him.  I'm a lucky girl....with a large credit card bill to pay....