karma

I shouldn't have made the "fat people" post... Despite eating healthy this week...the only exceptions being pigging out on food at John's parents late night on Friday [after being starved from a raw foods, 16 bite "feast"]...I gained 2.2 pounds. Karma.

Am so frustrated. John says if I add some strength training to my workout that it will help balance the weight loss and make it more consistent. I don't want to do strength training :( Other people at Weight Watchers "treat themselves" to weekly gorge fests on pizza, fries, etc. The last time I have had those foods... I can't even recall:( My metabolism, etc annoys me.

Also...lately...I find myself in a conflict with social networking sites. Part of me likes reading about friends and sharing thoughts, etc. Part of me thinks that these sites end up making me feel lonesome or sad. People seem to post [almost in a bragging manner] all these highlights of their lives. Additionally, it seems like we do more "commenting" back and forth than in "live," in-person time. Can make someone actually feel more out of touch with their "friends" than in touch. I sometimes think it'd be worthwhile to just get rid of myspace, facebook, etc.

Then... I worry what I would do with my time. Most likely it would be way more productive than [essentially] staring at a screen and taking silly "quizzes" like "What Beatles song are you?" and "What your birthdate says about you."

from 18 Days Without You, by Anne Sexton

December 16th

Once upon a time
you grew up in a bedroom the size of a dime
and shared it with your sister. That was West End
Avenue in Manhattan. Longing for country you were penned
into city, peering across the Hudson at Palisades Park.
The boy in you played stickball until it was dark.

One upon a time
I was the only child forbidden to climb
over the garden wall. I didn't dare to speak
up over the Victorian houseful of rare antiques.
My dolls were all proper, waiting in neat rows.
My room was high ceilinged, lonely and full of echoes.

Once upon a time
you said, "Now that the cabin is ours,
I'm going to run the power in."
And we had a power party.
I made gingham curtains. We nailed up your Doctoral degree.
We turned the stove on twice. Oh my love, oh my louse,
we make our own electricity while we play house.

Insensitive Bitch...or maybe just a realist

Losing weight has turned me into an aggressive bitch. Case in point: I was at Costco today, trying to navigate consumerism hell on earth. It wasn't even that it was crowded but simply that tons of fat, lazy people were slowly trudging through the store... stopping every five seconds to wait 1-2 minutes for a tiny food morsel sample. It was so annoying. In my head, I was thinking things like, "Move out my way, you fat fuck," "Could your pants be any tighter?," etc.

I NEVER thought this way before.

I guess losing weight has just made me annoyed with other people who, voluntarily, allow themselves to be unhealthy.... unattractive.... lazy...etc. All those traits go together. I wish that stores would stop selling huge sizes. Maybe then people would be motivated to try to take care of themselves--- public humiliation tends to do the trick in many scenarios.

I feel the best I have felt in a long time...probably ever. I can't imagine going back to what I was before...not that I was even anything too horrific. But, it's like once you improve yourself and see all the other positive changes that come along with that one initial improvement, theres no way you will go back to the way things were.

I really don't spend much of my own time thinking about other "fat" people...it's just something that was on my mind today...amidst the gluttons shopping @ Costco.

temperate skies

The weather of the past week has made me feel like we're in that Ray Bradbury short story, "All Summer in a Day." I witnessed the bright sun shining today, so I guess I won't be playing the part of the girl who gets locked in the closet--- imprisoned long enough to miss the sun shining, let out just in time to see the rain begin to pour again.

While I previously was intrigued by the idea of living in a primarily rainy area like Seattle, this week has confirmed that I would never want to permanently live in a place like that. The rain has been miserable.

The forecast for tonight and tomorrow is rainstorms...again. Right now, there's a light breeze outside and the fading sunlight is slipping through the gaps between trees, branches, and leaves. I like the contrast between the warm temperature outside and the slight chill of the breeze passing by.

I am not really in the mood for welcoming more rain, but I wouldn't mind a full-blown hail storm sometime soon. I remember when I was younger... I ran outside during a hail storm and "caught" hail in a bucket. I then proceeded to keep the bucket in the freezer for quite a few months. I have to start doing silly things like that again, sometime soon.

Fascination with accents

Any guy who comes to "the states" and has an accent should never be single. As in, there shouldnt be the possibility of singledom for him. American women LOVE accents.

Last night, Jen, Val, and I went out. Two guys were talking to us. One was the "dominant" guy---he came up to us first, started the conversation, etc. His friend (average height, glasses, not super attractive but not unattractive either] just kind of stood nearby, not saying anything. Later in the evening, he revealed that he is the "wingman" when him and his friend go out. Amusing.

When he finally spoke later in the evening, it turned out he had an accent. He's from Wales. Of course, all of us replied, "Oh, England?," to which he replied again, "No, Wales." I'd love to take an informal survey of Americans who actually know and/or recognize Wales as an actual country.

Chris (Welsh guy) was saying he has kind of sworn off dating and given up. Unbelievable. I told him he needs to go to a laundromat, carefully fold his wash, and make sure he goes to the counter and asks for change or some other simple request, making sure to put his voice at a good volume. The minute any woman hears an accent---bam---that's it.

American women are fascinated by accents. I've seen the same scenario occur amongst myself, friends, others: you may be bored with someone or just indifferent. The minute that accent is heard, you are immediately interested. It's something unique. Exciting. Unknown territory.

Nostalgia?....

Such a contradiction--- thinking that it is ridiculous that people constantly update their Twitter, Facebook, Myspace--- but the same time consciously being "concerned" that I don't have a lot of "friends" on those social networking sites--- Trying to do better things with my time--- finding myself sitting online and doing just about nothing productive with my time.

At 28, I mean, I guess I feel "mature"--- in some ways. But I feel like I've been in my current state for awhile. I've definitely changed over the past few years, feeling more confident probably being the biggest change--- but parts of me still feel like I'm not that far off from how I used to be.

I sometimes laugh at the popularity of certain bands and artists. Take Fall Out Boy. Pete Wentz is MY AGE--- but still dressing in skin tight, colored jeans a la Hot Topic---still getting tons of fans in the middle school/high school age group. Makes me think about music choices too. How do your music choices transcend time?

I, like every teenage girl, had Alanis Morrissette's Jagged Little Pill--- back in '95. Morissette was 21 when the album came out--- I'm sure some of the songs were written earlier than when she was 21 but, nonetheless, most of the album seemed reflective of her experiences. . . . I was 15 but somehow felt "connected" to the album...somehow felt I could relate to the anger in "You Oughtta Know," in addition to other songs... despite not even reaching the rite of passage of first kiss, let alone having someone fuck you and then leave.

I listened to that album today. Also listened to some old Fiona Apple albums recently. The albums still resonate with me. This leads me to asking--- is it nostalgia... or just pathetic?

At least I can feel happy with myself knowing that I will not utter that I feel "connected" to those albums. After a few tracks, the whining, angst-ridden lyrics get pretty aggravating.

Rainy Days and Mondays

It probably ages me significantly---the fact that I think of that song whenever it rains on a Monday. I remember when I was 7 or 8. They had this TV special on Karen Carpenter--- a mini-movie made for TV. I remember being fascinated--- the whole anorexia thing. How someone could get herself to a point of looking so frail-- and how no one really stopped her.

I'm not a huge Carpenters fan. Always thought the closeness between Richard and Karen was kind of weird too. But I do appreciate listening to the greatest hits album every once in awhile.

I love rainy days. With the exception of blow drying/styling my hair and then having the rain fuck it up, I love rainy days. They somehow energize me. I laugh at how people scurry around quickly, attempting to not get a single drop of rain water on themselves. Traffic is another thing. People just become possessed by some craziness. Suddenly, it's 5:00 and there's a constant stream of ambulance lights glittering up and down the highway. You hear police sirens more often, or so it seems.

The best time is before it rains too--- when you can smell the wetness in the air, smell earthiness, mixed in with the scent of asphalt--it does have a scent.

Melange of Sunday night thoughts

I don't know why I waste my time so much. I go through phases... sometimes I want to be out and about A LOT. This weekend was filled with a lot of sleep...mostly from avoidance of the grad school paper/presentation due tuesday. I worry the professor will ask some question about my research methods, seeking an answer from me which includes words like "standard deviation, correlation, etc." I'm worried I won't have an answer. But honestly...the worst that can happen is I simply say, "I don't know." It's just some stupid paper anyway.

The thing I did accomplish this weekend was going to the gym 3x in a row. Mostly lazy workouts though...elliptical. Lots of elliptical. Despite taking the weight training class, I still can't make my way over to the weights area. I just feel uncomfortable.

Just was going through my quote journal and re-reading some things. Despite having sad undertones, Bernhard Schlink's THE READER has some beautiful language, some lovely words about love too. I enjoy how a literary piece could be about the most gloomy topic, yet still have some rays of joy shining through. Another book vivid in my mind is Jarhead. Whole book about being amidst war, but I recall two or three pages in which the author describes getting ready to come back to the US. The night before leaving, he made love to a Japanese girl who he had known awhile; she had a boyfriend that had recently returned to her too. But Anthony Swofford's language is beautiful: "I sucked her breath from her mouth and she bit my tongue until it bled. As the sun broke into the barracks, we wept, and she kissed my chest softly."

It was annoying when they made Jarhead into a movie because the movie... sucked. And I'm pretty certain that the lovely aforementioned scene was definitely not included.

Onto other topics: Spring is here! Frankly, the beautiful daytime weather leads to instant slackerdom... I just want to sit outside and read all day. I'm happy that the trees are flowering too. Wish I knew the names of the "species," or phylum...or whatever word categorizes trees more specifically.

Getting ahead

Today, I came to a conclusion. Getting ahead does not necessarily have to do with being smart, being talented, or even being good at what you do. A lot of times, the people who get ahead are the ones who get off their ass and actually try to move forward. They take that first step. They are the ones would laugh at my "Procrastinators unite!!... tomorrow" t shirt but would never make that motto a part of their daily life.

I am looking to change positions at work. No, there would be no pay increase. No, I will not have more "power" or authority. Rather, I will simply be happier...or so I think.

This current Writing class they have me teaching is bullshit. The kids don't like it as much as they liked the Reading "supplemental" class---and they barely tolerated that class, as it was. Also, my class numbers are ridiculous. Three different preps, 150 WRITING students. The Language Arts teachers have 90 students. Totally unfair. It's just a shitty situation.

There's an opening for a Basic Skills/Gifted and Talented instructor. The preps would suck. It's all three grade levels, both Basic Skills in Math and LA and the Gifted/Talented curriculum. BUT... the light at the end of the tunnel, you ask? Significantly smaller class numbers. Also--the students have the class in "cycles." so as soon as I got through the prep work for cycle one, I'd be able to repeat it.

I told the principal I was interested, but have not done anything beyond that to attempt to "secure" my position in the job. A co-worker told me to write a letter in which I state my qualifications. 1] I am lazy, but 2] I feel like a jackass--"stating my qualifications."

There's someone else interested in the position. I think I can do way better than her. So...guess I should sit my ass down and prepare to be a jackass and write my letter of qualification... The alternative is another year of this Writing hell...

Wow. First a reed, then Cameron

Awesome times, really. Ok...so I am doing well with losing weight. Last night, Val's fiance said, "Where are your hips?" I didn't tell him and Val that I was doing Weight Watchers. I hate telling people I am watching my weight/on a diet plan. Then, each time they see you, they expect to see this monumental change in your weight....and it doesn't happen that way.

But last night David was like, "Where are your hips? You've lost weight." It cracks me up that guys mistake "chunk" on the sides of your body for hips. I mean...geez...I still have hips--just have a little less chunk.

John's aunt saw me about a month ago and said, "Oh my gosh! You're a reed." Seriously, the biggest compliment I have ever gotten:)

Last night at karaoke, Siler said I remind him of Cameron Diaz in Charlie's Angels... no...I am not suddenly 5'11" and super thin. He sent me the link today... I've never seen the movie...but the scene he sent me is a scene of her dancing around, silly, in the morning. And... it's not too far off from how I am when I am around the apartment alone. Sometimes...I dance in front of a mirror and lip sync to songs by Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. Good times :)I used to hold back so much of myself and be concerned about what people thought. I'm still concerned but... am willing to rap Salt N Peppa's "Shoop" in the middle of a gay bar with rabbit ears on my head:)

Avoidance

Ah. Inspirational quotations. I hate the ones that are like "Getting up the hill is half the battle," blah blah blah. I rarely put myself in the situation where I am getting up the proverbial hill.

Most of my life, I've had this habit of quitting things when they are challenging...or simply avoiding them. Case in point: college. Despite going to a tiny private college that didn't exactly have tons of literature offerings for an English major, I somehow managed to avoid Victorian Lit and Medieval Lit. Did everything I could to make sure I didn't take those courses. Second example: quitting clarinet when we got to the high notes. I had played the instrument in upper elementary school and it was pretty easy (also part of the reason I chose the clarinet: rumors of its easiness). Once middle school hit and we had to play the high notes, bam, I was out the door.

I am taking a Research Methods class now and avoidance is not a possibility. Honestly though, the whole talk of significant research, p values, t tests, and standard deviations. It makes no sense to me. I feel like an absolute idiot. It's incredibly frustrating....because...damn... I can't quit the class. Well.. I could but...

Another thing is my lack of financial knowledge. I know credit cards screw you but I simply pay the whole bill each month and avoid the whole "screwing" issue. But I don't know a thing about APR, interest, etc. Now it's time for us to do income taxes and I'd like to try them on my own (usually pay an accountant for an income tax return that people tell me is simple) but am afraid I will mess it up.

Yes... now indeed that would be hilarious. The IRS coming to arrest the teacher and retail manager in their meager one bedroom apartment.

Pseudo Genetics

When I look at my wedding photos, I see a strong resemblance between my mother and me. I definitely have her eyes. My smile looks exactly like her smile when she was my age-- cheeks slightly protruding, eyes crinkling, and mouth widely smiling.

Some people in my family have said I resemble my father. I don't really see it. I definitely have his hair --- thick --- it takes an eternity to dry. Other than that, I don't see any resemblances.

It saddens me. If I looked like him, I could feel that there was a part of him within me -- basically every time I looked in the mirror.

Although I didn't know my father too long before he passed away, there's certain personality/ non-genetic traits of his that I like to think I somehow "inherited."

My mom talks about how my dad used to go to garage sales and flea markets all the time. When he passed away, apparently the basement was filled with "junk"-- my mother's words, not mine.

Somehow I think the concept of someone's "trash" being another's "treasure" has been passed down to me. I love going to garage sales, flea markets, and thrift shops. While some people consider buying things from those places as buying "used" stuff, I think it's almost a sharing experience. Case in point: I love buying a used book and seeing the lines that someone else highlighted, or the notes that were written in the margin. Sometimes when I see the highlighted lines, I ask, "Why? What's so important" and...

sometimes...even better... I say, "Yeah, I'd highlight that too."

Getting back

I have to start writing again.

When I first started teaching, I recall someone asking me if I was still writing. My response was something along the lines of, “By the end of the day, my students have sucked any and all creativity out of me.” I might have even compared them to leeches.

Cowardly, I know. Like Hemingway ever said, “I’m an alcoholic and can’t write today.” Or Fitzgerald said, “Zelda is going mad again and I just don’t have it in my to write.”

Rather, they used the writing to make structure [I think] of some sort in their lives. To guide them along.

Fast forward to 7 years later. . . I have to start writing again. I’ve often thought of waking up earlier in the morning, maybe writing from 5:30 to 6. I know this is not a reality. I am definitely not a morning person. But I have to do something to start bringing those things I love(d) back into my life. It’s amazing how our days can pass by… sure, we’ve “done things.” We’ve gone to work, done laundry, cleaned house, gone food shopping, maybe bought a new picture or two to hang up. But I think about it like this—if I died today and those activities were the “basics” of my daily life, …well… it’d be a pretty boring obituary to read.

Jessie Spano is my hero...

I feel like I am [slightly] out of that famous episode of Saved by the Bell...where Jessie, Lisa, and Kelly are in the leotard-wearing-girl group. Because Jessie is feeling pressure from applying to colleges and being in the girl group, she begins abusing caffeine pills.

Story of my life:)

I, for the life of me, can't get into drinking coffee. For me to like it, I'd have to put so much sugar and milk in it that the caloric intake would equal my whole breakfast. I've gotten into chai teas but those are filled with sugar too. Hot chocolate just seems lame, in terms of getting a morning "fix." So...each morning, I take a caffeine tablet. I've taken the famed Vivrin brand before, but in recent months have not been opposed to "Jet Alert" (96 tablets for under 3 bucks- amazing) or "Awake" (Walgreens "house" brand). Funny though. I think I have gotten to the point where the tablet does not affect my energy level. I'm just so used to taking the pill...that I take it.

Tonight, I went to the gym around 8:30. KNEW it was a bad idea. Whenever I go to the gym at "night night" hours, I can't fall asleep. You'd think getting all your energy out would make it so you could easily sleep when you get home. Instead---it has the opposite effect on me.

So...it's 11:35 and I am discussing my lame dependency on caffeine tablets. Now that I am wide awake, I might rummage through the three-drawer organizer in the bathroom and pop a sleep-time tablet... Shop Rite house brand. These economic times are tough.

On the + side--- got a personal best on my mile run....jog....um... whatever "moderate" verb you want to use. 9 minutes, 46 seconds. Dont know how that compares to the rest of the universe but my fat ass could not run the mile in younger years....so to have a "PB" is pretty awesome.

The Faithless

There must be this idea that if you live in an apartment complex, you must lack faith. I guess that argument might be valid in connection to "domestic partners" who (as my Aunt Tina says ) "live in sin" and do not get married or are not already married before moving in together.

I can only recall being visited by Jehovah's Witnesses ONCE during my time of residing in a house (21 years).

At the apartment complex, Jehovah's Witnesses come around a few times a year. It always is after a big holiday too. The morning after Thanksgiving or a few days after New Year's. It's like they're thinking, "You've had your holiday fun, your gluttony--now it's time to find God" ...or Jehovah, I guess.

Today, we had another milestone in attempts at making us full of faith. A postcard was wedged in the windowpane. One the front side, there was a glossy picture of a tub of popcorn and it read "Pop in January 4th." It immediately made you think that the movie theatre nearby was doing some type of promotion or double feature...something. The other side of the card detailed a church (Realife Church) that is coming to our area. You can join in on church services on Sunday mornings...at the movie theatre! How weird is that? I thought having one of those revival churches in a shopping plaza next to a Weight Watchers center was weird enough, but in a movie theatre?

I said to John, "It must be Born Again." He said, "Yeah, I guess it's non denominational." In my mind, Born Again is a denomination---crazy. I can say this from first hand experience too. I actually did once go to a Born Again service---not by choice. My mother was led to the front of the church and the preacher put a hand on her head and said something along the lines of, "Heal this child." I could not make this stuff up.

Well...if I ever am bored on a Sunday morning, it's nice to know there's a place I could go to. The postcard advertises "contemporary live music" and "FREE refreshments."

Resolutions

Well, People magazine proclaimed on a recent cover that Oprah has hit 200 pounds and that she says, "I'm Embarrassed!" Am guessing her New Year's resolution, like the rest of the earth, (America, at least) is to lose weight.

I understand the whole idea of a new year and making resolutions. I just never know what to have for my resolution. I don't think I'd really say losing weight for this. Instead, I just want to continue CONSISTENTLY following the healthy habits I have learned.

One year my resolution was to make better eye contact with people---retarded:)

I guess a resolution could be to clean the apartment more and keep it tidy, but again, that seems like a lame resolution.

I guess in my mind a resolution is supposed to be something so monumental that it will really change a big part of you and, ultimately, make you a better person.

In that case, I guess I could be more assertive with people. That's something I am not the best with being. Then, "after the fact," I will think of clever comebacks or intelligent statements that I should have said to the person who was confronting me/bothering me/ etc.

But that resolution seems difficult to complete. But I guess that's the point.

Is a burger and fries supposed to make you feel like garbage?

When Supersize Me came out a few years ago, I was so grossed out by the film that I did not eat McDonald's, Burger King, etc for four years. I can't say I didn't eat any fast food because I consider the crap that chains like Applebees serve to be fast food...but I stayed away from the burge/fries fast food chains.

About a year ago, after a night of sibling bonding and drinking, my sister convinced me to stop for a 2am snack of McDonald's. At 2am, after drinking at bars, that food was delicious.

I think I am on a path to self-destruction...or was. Ever since the wedding, I have been eating whatever I want...in LARGE competitive-eater portions. Friday night I said to myself, "I'm having McDonalds for dinner and then that's." My goal is to get off all of the post-wedding/honeymoon weight. It's only 5 pounds or so but it seriously makes a big difference. I feel blobbish.

Tonight... I went to McDonald's again. And I reverted to a habit I used to have in high school--I went through the drive thru to get the food and then, like an ashamed glutton, I ate the food in the parking lot.

So...tomorrow is Sunday...start of the new week, according to conventional calanderists. I am starting fresh with my eating habits. It pisses me off that food can have this much of a hold on me. I mean...even looking back at blog entries...about 1/4 of them are about food/"dieting."I try to stay away from self-deprecating, woe-is-me comments....

Aiming to get back on track....hopefully...

The Good, The Bad...maybe I'm too melodramatic.

Lately, things have been a back and forth see saw between good and bad. Granted, my "bad" is nothing tragic. No one has died or come down with a terminal illness. No tragedies nearby. But still, things have been a bit chaotic.

The Good:
**People at work tell me I am "glowing" and will make a lovely bride.
**My wedding dress fits well and I think it is hilarious they have to stuff the top part to help "fill me out."
**I am doing well with eating better and am down to 151 pounds:)
**I fit into a size 10 pair of jeans. :-)
**It's fall--crisp air and apple picking time.
**Went to the Dodge Poetry Festival and discovered some poets I hadn't heard of before. Luke Warm Water...a Native American poet. Had a poem about some girl asking him to come to San Diego. During one of the lines, he describes her as having "acres of ass." That line is awesome.
**Went to the New Kids on the Block, um... NKOTB...concert on Tuesday night. The fact that in 2008, I can be brought back to feeling like I was in 1988 is simply amazing. And...Jordan is still hot. :)

The Bad:
**Work kind of sucks. The new "Writing" class is shitty to teach and the kids don't seem to like it. I have one particular class that has children that were obviously conceived in hell. That's mean, right? Well...they're just a horrible class.
**I lost 4 pounds last week but I think it was only because, daily, I would leave work feeling like I had to vomit and, thus, didn't end up really wanting to eat food for the remainder of the day. I owe the nausea to that hell-class.
**It's rained like crazy for the past two Fridays. I am worried it will rain on our wedding day. We're getting married inside the reception venue and all but still...clear skies would be pleasant.
**I have 150 "writing journals" at work that I have to grade. In about one week, I will have 150 essays to grade. I did the math and even if i only spend 5 minutes per grading task, to grade 150 it will take 750 minutes. That's depressing. Why couldn't I teach math?
**Our apartment is a literal pigsty. I feel like taking a trash can and tossing everything out. Ex: Do I really need a March 2002 issue of Details magazine with Ethan Hawke on the cover? Apparently, yes.
**The bastard cat scratched my face today. It was unintentional but it still hurt quite a bit.

Muse

Sometimes (often times), someone else's words will "do the trick." Stumbled across this poem by William Stafford. I want to be someone's muse!

When I Met My Muse

I glanced at her and took my glasses
off--they were still singing. They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then
ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched. "I am your own
way of looking at things," she said. "When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation." And I took her hand.

William Stafford

Reunion

Recently, I've been getting emails about my class reunion. No biggie---it was just an idea that was "up in the air." I didn't think it would ever come to fruition.

Today, I got an Evite for the reunion. Was hoping that it would be around the wedding or honeymoon and that I would have a legit excuse [for myself] to not go. However, it is at a convenient time which I could attend. I have mixed emotions.

Even though high school was fun and there was little responsibility, when I think of those years in detail, I actually realize that I detested them. I had really bad skin and was overweight; this made me incredibly insecure and shy. I was incredibly focused on academics and was very anxiety-ridden. That has since changed, thank goodness. Most of all, most of the people I came into contact with at my high school were asses.

So the thought of paying $ to spend an evening with them at a shit bar [classy, eh?], just does not sit well with me. Sure, I could go to the reunion and show how much better I am now---secure with myself, confident, blah blah blah. But why give those people that pleasure? Why should I care what they think?

Still--part of me thinks that if I don't show up, people will think I am some kind of loser and have no life, or that I am embarrassed at what I have made of myself.

Again, I really shouldn't care what they think. But I think this is a constant struggle we all feel---- that we say we "don't care" what others think---- but in many ways, we do. We wouldn't be human if we didn't care what others thought and didn't want to seek their validation.

On a positive note, I saw a brief glimpse of this "special" on Debbie Gibson. It made me think we should definitely play "Lost In Your Eyes" during the dinner hour at the wedding. Rock on.