I'll have a large fry with a side of cookies.

Boys and Girls: Have you ever heard one of your girlfriends say how many LBS she needs to lose and then she bakes a batch of cookies? Better yet have you ever eaten so much that you give yourself a tummy ache, cry on your pillow and vow to never do that again? Are you this girl? Is this your girlfriend?

If you answered yes to one or more of these questions, I propose the following advice: stop being crazy. Seriously ladies, nine times out of ten you are saying all this stuff and you're a size two. And more importantly your boyfriends do NOT want to hear it, telling your bff that you are fatty mc fat fat gets you nowhere fast. So here's to you skinny ladies - just stop. Stop thinking that you look like crap and realize that you are probably very attractive and chalk this episode up to PMS or some other super hormonal change in your life. I'll admit I do it too... interestingly enough I don't think it's for attention. I think making such a declarative statement forces you to take action and lose your 5 little pounds. But let's face it, it's still crazy and not recommended. Enjoy it while it lasts if you are in your twenties, your metabolism has not slowed to the pace of molasses so you are probably ok to eat that cookie dough in your fridge.

Furthermore, think about all the people who LOVE your curves, or rolls (jk) or whatever pleasantly plump figure enhancing aspect you have. And trust me, men do NOT like twigs for girlfriends. Think about it. Boys don't like Barbies at a young age why? Because they have no butt, stick legs and too skinny. And what do girls do? They love them, cherish them and hope one day to look just like them. This same dynamic translates into real life and an older version of these girls and boys. But, just remind yourself about those Barbies and where this left them - with NO MANS. All that plastic unrealistic skinniness gets you is packaged by yourself with only clothes that fit you.

So stop picking yourself apart, you are beautiful and lack of confidence never gets anyone anywhere. But you know what does...? The treadmill, so hop on, shut up and burn some kcals without complaining. Much love to my oh so crazy readers :)

"Be with me when I grow up"

A page from a young lover's diary:

All I want is to grow up. I don't want to dream, I don't want to love. I want to be logical and purposeful with each action that I make. I want to be responsible for my actions and I want to fall out of love and I would like every relationship to be filled with nothing but mutual consideration.

I want to be older. I want time to stand still and propel me forward so I don't have to act like a child and relish in my naivety. I don't want to see you as you. I want to have wisdom and I want to feel like I've done it all before. I never want to be scared, I want my nightmares to bring insight and I want my tears to come with joy. I don't want heart ache.

I want to be selfish. I want to earn that sense of entitlement that only comes with age. I want to feel like regret is not an option and that every action has an equal and opposite reaction... I don't want to feel indifferent.

As a matter of fact I want him to feel the opposite of everything that I want.

I want him to be young forever. I want him to dream of me and love me all over again - but since I am old I will not see how perfect we make each other. But he'll regret and he'll cry because he feels pain. I don't want that.

I know none of this will happen. I know we'll have to grow up together. I will ask him to and he'll say yes. And I'll stay as I am. I'll make choices without knowing the outcome and I'll choose to love him because that's all I want. And I'll ask him this: "be with me when I grow up and love me when I'm old so I can always be a child and love you for you".

Long time no blog

So my dear reader, there is much to report. I'll give you a snap shot and then into my thoughts. I ran a marathon - my second marathon, which was the second poorest life choice next to the first marathon. It was the hottest day of the year to that date, no shade, and half as many watering stations on the second loop. The best part was seeing my handsome bf at mile 9, 13, and 26.2!!! I also had a circle of friends that stayed and supported me through the entire experience (including my Dr. roomie).

Next - I had a death in my family. My cat (Kitty) of 13.5 years passed away May 28, 2010. It is strange the way we get attached to animals. Whenever I was sad, he would curl up next to me and his purring body on my chest would lower my heart rate, every time. I cannot tell you enough of the unconditional love he has given me. Will I get another cat? No chance. I cannot replace such an impeccable love in my life for a while.

Thirdly, Ding. Dong. The crazy is GONE! Yes, ladies and gentlemen that terrible girl has finally left my life (the one who stole my razor blades). She is just about the most horrible person I have ever met. I cannot even refer to her as a roommate because that would imply she was considerate when rooming with others. I never wish badly on people and I will not start now - I can only hope that she stays out of my life forever and that I never meet any one like that again.

And finally. JAMAICA. I spent a wonderful 4 days with my boyfriend and his family. I loved seeing the home that harbors this beautiful family. It might have been all the wine and warm Caribbean waters, but I really felt happy. I was reminded time and again that I was seeing the 'real' Jamaica. The economic gap was unreal and the poverty jolted me into the reality of life outside my little bubble. Per usual on day 4 I left behind this island for my normal bubble - filled with all things me: running, cookies, my lovelies, creativity, and pink. But you know what? My bubble is different. And I will not say that seeing poverty changed my life - I do live in NYC where I see poverty a lot, but I do appreciate my bubble a little more.

So here's the thing... Life is short - especially if you are a cat. However, it's not too short to run a marathon or spend your second anniversary in Jamaica.

It'll never be too late to call your dad and cry about your dying childhood pet. And he will never hang up until you are ready. Every step in a 26.2 mile race is closer than the last - now that might seem obvious, but you have NO IDEA how empowering that can be.

It never gets old to sneak kisses on a family vacation; and it feels like falling in love all over again when you realize "he is my happy". You can forgive but never forget and you have to understand your parents did not raise everyone. People are crazy and some want to just plain hurt you. You don't need them, they don't pay your bills. OH and never name your child after a state.

PS. I vow to blog more often - if you promise to read more. Write to you soon my dear reader.