Off The Wagon

I've fallen off the gluten-free wagon. Being sick is when having food sensitivities is the toughest for me. I had come into the holiday season with self-pep-talks about how strong I would be at gatherings, and huddled with my mom to make sure we made a few dishes at family gatherings that were dairy and gluten free (me) and low in sodium (her). Recipes were researched, ingredients were purchased, and then bam--the flucoldplaguesinusinfection monster, as its been so lovingly dubbed around these parts.

It started with fried chicken on the second day of the flu. I was getting down to the nitty gritty of my groceries, and I woke up from a nap with the cold sweats--and intense hunger. Chicken was the only fast food option that sounded good...and it sounded SO good, so I pulled on my boots over my sweats and warmed up my Jeep. I didn't feel any immediate reaction. I should know better.

It has since devolved into other convenient carbs--crackers, chips, and a cheeseburger. Ugh, it hurts just typing it out.

All of my symptoms have come back--tummy troubles, painful joints, headaches. And I'm completely convinced it's the reason my sinus infection couldn't be kicked with an antibiotic. (Don't get me started on the antibiotic's side effects.)

Pity parties are just so much less compelling when they are self-inflicted.

Today it's back to dairy-free smoothies, lots of greens and water--and zero dairy/zero gluten. I'm trying not to kick myself too hard...this lifestyle is difficult, and so much harder when you barely have the energy to get off the couch. But it's become clear that making those choices have real consequences for me, and I'll have to try harder to prepare for the times that making those choices is really, really tough.

I'm armed with a high-quality probiotic, and all the discipline I can muster.

Hello 2013. I guess I do have a resolution after all.

Quoteworthy: Beginnings

I'm feeling a little cruddy as I continue to recover from whatever it was that hit me over Christmas--the flucoldplaguesinusinfection monster.

So I'm taking it easy on New Year's Eve for the first time since... well, probably Kindergarten.

My first legal New Year's Eve. ID at the ready.

Today I'm thinking a lot about beginnings. I used to write a lot of resolutions for the new year--sometimes up to 50. Most were specific ("spend more time with Papa", "plan a kayaking trip") but sometimes they were general, too ("complain less", "eat more greens"). Aside from writing more, I don't have any resolutions in mind going into 2013. I'm trusting the universe with this one.

Instead, I am going to ride the coattails of the inspiration that comes from beginnings. Here are a few quotes I found to be particularly heartening. Wishing you all a healthy, happy, inspiring New Year.

"There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind." --C.S. Lewis

"What you seek is seeking you." --Rumi

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." --Semisonic (Oh why yes, I went there.) 

"I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life--and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do." --Georgia O'Keeffe 

"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." --Eames (Tom Hardy), Inception

Beginning (n): a source; an origin

Inspiration (n): a divine influence directly and immediately exerted upon the mind or soul

Here's hoping 2013 brings you divine influence.

Brain Crush: Ray Bradbury + Writing Prompts for 2013

Well, my, my, my. I have been slacking.

I feel inspired, though. It might be because after spending the last 6 days in bed with the plague flu, I am vertical and I don't feel like I am simultaneously choking on poison and enduring a medieval brain surgery. It also might have something to do with the 72 hours of TV I watched, because now that I am coming back to life, my brain is buzzing like crazy. I have so many ideas floating around in there, thanks in part to Seasons 1-3 of United States of Tara, Seasons 1 and 2 of Breaking Bad, Season 4 of Gossip Girl, Season 4 of Mad Men, etc, etc, etc. I mean every single one of those etceteras, people. It's been a long and lazy week.

One reason I've been avoiding this blog is that, after a technical mishap in October, I lost the bird theme for blogger, so I was left with pink on beige... blech. So yesterday while hacking up a lung, I fixed up my blog. It's nothing fancy, just a quick Photoshop header with some free font, and a sprucing up of colors, plus a little self portrait from when I was playing with a new photo editing app during The Great Instagram Privacy Scare of 2012.

So, with that excuse out of the way, I am (re?)pledging to write more often in 2013. Don't call it a comeback, just call it a garden variety resolution.

During my horizontal time, I came across this video interview of author Ray Bradbury:




It's full of advice Ray gave to young writers. These tips are not only useful, they are funny and, like all good advice, many apply to life outside of writing.

It's funny because on Pinterest the other day I came across something a friend (who is a 5th grade teacher) pinned: 52 Writing Prompts for Your Class. I thought, Man, I wish someone would give me prompts. I wished that because some of my favorite things I've written have come from a really random suggestion: "You should write about that, Bobbi." Don't get me wrong, there are times that I scramble to find a cocktail napkin because something inspires me, but there have been considerable amount of times that my initial motivation to write something has been external.

But what's interesting about that is what Mr. Bradbury says in this video: Write down 10 things you love, and 10 things you hate, and start from there. He says you can "kill" the former by writing about them. Then do the same with your fears.

Okay, I can totally get behind that.

What I realized, though, is that while this list motivates me to write, the 20 things on it (and countless fears it encourages me to tackle) are actually internally motivated. Sneaky, Mr. Bradbury. Exceptionally sneaky.

10 Things I Love and Need to Freaking Write About
1. Being an independent woman... and all the fears, freak-outs and fabulousness that come along with it
2. Friendship... in all its complex and oftentimes incredibly difficult glory
3. Food... nutrition, food sensitivities, managing a healthy lifestyle, recipe ideas galore
4. Personal development... the balance between loving who you are and loving to grow
5. Travel... why going from here to there and back to here is about so much more than just sightseeing
6. Finding meaning in the small things... stopping to smell the roses, so to speak
7. Family... "a group of people missing the same imaginary place" (Garden State, anyone?)
8. Design... universal, necessary and a heck of a lot more accessible than most think
9. Relationships... while the Lack Of One should keep me busy (writing, that is) for a while, I've always enjoyed reading about relationships. Maybe it's time to join the discussion
10. Writing... whoa, that's meta. Writing is important to me, why not write about it?

Funny that most things on this list also gel with other popular writing advice: Write what you know.

10 Things I Hate and Therefore Need To Kill By Writing About Them
1. People who take themselves too seriously
2. When people, particularly women, compare themselves to one another
3. When people forget to take care of themselves first and get lost in the job, family, kids, money
4. Anxiety and how it's true when they say you don't cure it, you just manage it
5. When people are afraid to tackle a new project for fear of failing (myself included)
6. How friendships change as you go through new life stages
7. When people say they can't afford to be healthy (step. away. from. the. chicken. nuggets.)
8. Misunderstandings
9. Feeling uninspired or stuck
10. Anything or anyone not genuine or authentic

Thanks, Ray.

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Giving Thanks

Today and every day, there is so, so much to be thankful for.

• My mom--my biggest cheerleader, who is supportive of each and every crazy idea I conjure up. 
• My dad--who has always made me feel like the funniest, most beautiful, smartest girl in the land.
• My brother--who is funny, loyal and thoughtful, who lets me have my idiosyncrasies but calls me on my shit.
• My pup--who teaches me patience, shows me unconditional love, and brightens my everyday.
• My friends--whose blossoming lives inspire me, make me think, and show me how beautiful life is. The way that they show me what life can become, what strength looks like, and love. The wonderful men and women they have married, and the beautiful, inquisitive, curious children they have brought into the world. 

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• My family, each and every one of the crazy bunch--who show me where my place is in this world, and who, despite wanting me to be close, encourage me to explore the rest of it.
• My health--my goodness, my health, my health, my health! I'm so thankful for the upswing, the people who show me ways to live healthier, and the people who have helped me in the meantime. 
• My job--meaningful work, the fruition of hard work, the opportunity to make a difference.
• My house--the independence it symbolizes, and the lessens it teaches me. And the hot tub, because, yeah. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :)

Open Letters I Have Half a Mind To Send

Do you guys read McSweeney's? I'm sort of obsessed, particularly with their Open Letters. Though infrequent, many Open Letter posts have found me nodding enthusiastically or doing the pee-pee dance, particularly this one, this one and this one.

So, for the past few months, I've been keeping a list of letters I'd like to release to the world. If I could boil this stuff down to under 140 characters, I might just start using my Twitter account to get it off my chest. Well, start using it for more than just stalking Chris D'elia and 27 of my favorite bloggers, that is.

An Open Letter to Those Who Comment on My Meal Choices: 
I realize that when I walk in with a mason jar filled with brown-ish/green-ish sludge, your interest (and possibly gag reflex) is piqued. And mostly I don't mind answering your questions--usually I'm happy to ramble on at length about my newest obsession. But please have some manners. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it. Because in the future, if you do, I may just give you the real run down: In addition to a dozen other health benefits I found by eliminating 432 foods from my diet, I eat what makes my bowels less angry. That means that anyone with functioning olfactory capabilities gets to enjoy clean, neutral smelling air when blessed with my presence, and I get to have less painful/impossible potty-time. It really is a win, win, you see. It is in your best interest. So shut up, or pass the cheese and beware. P.S. The brown-ish/green-ish sludge is the most delicious superfood smoothie you could ever imagine and if you're nice to me I might share. 
In health and happily shared spaces, 
Bobbi Marie

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An Open Letter to the People in My Life Who Are Mourning Their Favorite Sporting Team's Loss and/or Are Frustrated Over A Strike: 
There, there now. I'm so sorry you're sad/frustrated. This must be really hard for you and-- Oh, who am I kidding? I quickly show signs of Asperger's Syndrome when confronted with this. I don't know what to say, or how to look you in the eye, and I'd do anything to conjure up some empathy so that I might know how to cheer you up/pacify your angry outburst/make the crying stop. I basically have no idea whatsoever why this might be so important to ANYONE, and I do not understand how in the world the implications of someone missing a pitch can make you turn from Mister Rogers to Abby-the-4-year-old-NPR-fan in under 5 seconds. I just want my friend back so we can talk about things I understand. But, yeah, I hope you feel better soon...? 

Fondly, 

Your biggest fan

Source - but you should really check out the site. Funny stuff.

An Open Letter to the Bully Spin Instructor who Singled Me Out in Front of the Whole Flipping Class in 2010 and Made Me Do Jumps Even Though I Explicitly Said My Knee was Injured: 
Thanks for cranking up the resistance... on my willingness to brave group exercise, you Nazi you. You're mean and I get the impression by the size of your biceps that you might feel the need to prove something to the world. If you're looking to have impact that is in line with your skill set, might I suggest applying to be a coach for the WWE? Basically, I'm still traumatized by our encounter almost three years later, and I think you might be a little too intense for the YMCA. 
Signed, 
Still seething

An Open Letter to My Right Quadricep: 
Okay, look, I'm sorry that the Spin Instructor was mean to you when you were at your most feeble. And I'm sorry that the stubborn discs in my back are pinching off your nerve/life-source. But can you find a way to muster up some freaking enthusiasm? After all, the rest of my body has had just as much time on the bench as you. Show some commitment. Learn to get along with your neighbors. Give my right knee some support! Get in the game! 
See you on the field, 
Coach Bobbi

An Open Letter to the State of Michigan:
Thanks for going blue on this one. I'm really proud of you.
GObama, 
A Yooper Democrat for Life

An Open Letter to The Bald Man Who Swore At Me Because He Thought I Cut Him Off At The Light Outside My Office: 
Dude, you were in the TURNING LANE. According to Michigan Intersection Signage Law (or something like that), you were supposed to be TURNING after pausing temporarily for through traffic. The right lane, that I was in, is the through-traffic lane. YOU were wrong. Should you have calmed down from your Britney-in-'07-style temper tantrum and found the good sense to want to apologize, I work in that building over there in Suite 207. Bring Skittles. 
Peacefully yours, 
The innocent brunette in the red Jeep

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An Open Letter to the Girl in the Sparkly Dress at the Nursing Gala on Saturday Night at The Landmark in Marquette, MI: 
You go, girl. (This post is turning into Missed Connections...)
Cheers, 
The jealous girl in the corner on her 4th dirty martini who will never have the chutzpah you had when you put your heels on and walked out the door

An Open Letter to the "Doctors" That Provided My "Care" circa '10-'12: 
I'm gonna assume you know what this one would say, and on the off chance that my grandmother might suddenly get an iPad and read this blog, I'm going to leave those expletives unsaid. 

Things I Suck At

Do you ever just have one of those days that are full of things you suck at? And you're like, come on, DAY, include something that is a slam dunk for me! I need a good win for team morale! (Yeah, I'm talking about Team Me.) Today I am finally back to doing tasks I excel at, like running 12 errands on my lunch hour and making hard-boiled eggs.

The rest of this week, however, was full of DAYS:

• I feel like I might never get the hang of cash flow. Never fails, I feel rich at the beginning of a pay period and by the end, I am Mother Hubbard trying to figure out what to do with the eight cans of beans I bought last week because they were on sale. There should be an iPhone app that pays all your bills for the month and then divides up the remainder, doling it out evenly each week. I would pay for that. Which might just highlight my ineptness in the wallet department.

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• Forgiveness has never felt natural to me. I don't know where absolving you of your sins ends and letting you walk all over me begins. 'Forgive but don't forget' makes no sense to me. 

• I'm always awkward when checking in at the doctor's office. Sometimes they want you to sign the little labels, sometimes they want to know why you are there, sometimes they role out the red carpet for you, and sometimes they act like you are bothering them. It's extremely inconsistent and it makes me so awkward. Add that to White Coat Syndrome and I'm pretty much at my worst in the doctor's office.

• We all know it takes heaven and earth to make me make a phone call. The fact that I have a professional job and tons of friends is a miracle because home girl SUCKS at the phone. Mercury has to be in retrograde and the stars all have to align for me to pick up and dial.

• I mean, we should probably just go ahead and put cleaning on this list.

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• I'm kind of scary with a knife in my hands. I'm really really bad at chopping things. I'm inconsistent, a little erratic and I may end up in the ER. Oddly enough, it's one of my favorite tasks in the kitchen. 

• If I had a nickel for every time I forgot to charge my flipping iPod, I could bribe my gym to play 50cent on repeat with a hint of J.Lo and Ludacris over the loud speaker. It's hard to stay motivated when your iPod dies 10 minutes after you get to the gym. I need my Fitty, but I can't manage to remember to plug the iPod in when I get home.

• I'm really bad at being nice to people when I'm too warm. 

• I realized the other day that I have completely forgotten how to do long-division. Absolutely no idea. 

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Bobbi Lately

• Lately, I've been savoring the last bits of fall. 

• Lately, I've been an eBay hustler. I've sold 5 bridesmaid dresses, and 10 other items.

• Lately, I've been adding to the gallery of frames in my stairwell. It's winding up the stairs!

• Lately, I've been sucking down India Spice Yogi Tea. 

I've also been taking the quotes as signs:

• Lately, I've been catching up with my Neglected People List. Aunts, cousins, friends. A busy summer had me putting many of my people on the back burner. It's been fun catching up!