Mardi Gras

     Today being Fat Tuesday, I thought I should plan out all of my over-indulgences before I give something up for the next 40 days. However, I woke up with a tummy still full with yesterday's over-indulgences. I have this really irritating feeling too, that no matter what I give up I won't be able to stick to it. Today is indeed Fat Tuesday, and yet as an American, many of my days are spent chowing down all sorts of junk foods and nights spent gulping down many alcoholic beverages (most often without anything to celebrate). 

     This weekend, I told a friend that I am a three-drink girl. Then, I come across this article in Home Journal magazine and the author says she has been called a "three-drink girl" by her mother with negative connotation. It seemed too much of a coincidence for me to come across this article. The woman who wrote the article could have been me as far as experience goes, and the fact that I could relate so well to this article did not make me feel so good. I have thought about my own drinking habits and wondered if I am on the verge of addiction. I always come up defending myself, and though I do not believe I have any real problems with addiction, my habit of three is not as healthy as I pretend it to be.

      I have a dark side, just ask my sister... or anyone else in my family (but not Matt because he won't speak a word against me despite the fact that he has indeed seen my dark side- we are married afterall), and I can easily say that my drinking brings out this dark side of mine. That is why my first choice in Lenten sacrifice is to give up alcohol (no matter how many birthdays there are to celebrate, the possible trip to Solvang with my mom, or St. Patrick's Day), because I find too many things to celebrate with a glass or two... or three. Just the same with Fat Tuesday, as I could go out for a burger and add fries and a milk shake, have ice cream after a not so healthy dinner, and wake up once again with a tummy ache. I can't do that, however, without thinking that I do this a lot more than I should as it is. 

     So today rather than making a trip to In-N-Out, I told my mom I would go on a hike with her, even though it is Fat Tuesday, and I am not fully in the mood to get off my bum today. I am going to do my best to ditch the irritating feeling that I may not succeed in my Lenten journey by way of using the calendar I bought myself to track my successes. 

     I am not trying to make anyone feel guilty and hope that everyone has a wonderful Mardi Gras! I wish you all the pleasures of the world without a tummy ache to follow.

      

       

Reading Girl

      I am reading Gone with the Wind and now understand the power of the famed book. I have to applaud Margaret Mitchell as I have only read a tenth of the book and feel a feverishness taking over me. I was hardly able to put the book down to answer the phone for my sister (fortunately for her, it was high time for a bathroom break). The power of a good book is that it is intoxicating! Only now after having put down my Kindle, I have realized it is lunch time, and I am hungry (Women, we don't need diets. We need literature!). I graduated with an English degree and took up that course of study because I loved to read. My love of reading was not so connected to a passion for analysis or critique, unless it was in a fiery discussion, as it was to the experience. Now I have the freedom to just experience the book without over thinking, without wondering what my next paper's thesis will be. It's so marvelous I can hardly stand it. Above all, this book makes me feel gloriously feminine. I loved the movie, but you just cannot beat the book.

  

   If I someday have come to terms with my inner critic and can write with as much freedom as I read, I shall have found true bliss. So the journey to becoming a writer has begun with reading. I am as close as I have ever been, but somehow a good book in my hands is my strongest ally and motivation. Hopefully someday I can give that experience to someone else. 

     

     

       We are officially back in Southern California. I had wanted it to feel like cloud nine when we got here, but that would just be too dreamy and easy, wouldn't it? I am finding it harder to write here. There is something stifling in the air. It might be the population size. I cannot help but feel minuscule in Los Angeles. The labyrinth I was dealing with in Oregon just got one hundred times larger. I have to readjust and breathe. My optimism must trump my pessimism.

       I have done a lot of self-reflection lately and know that it can be hard for me to decipher intuition from impulse. This makes a job search incredibly difficult. I do not want to act on impulse. I want to follow my intuition. I want to find a job that speaks to my heart. The money aspect is so unattractive. The cost of living is so high here that I cannot help thinking if I do that will I make enough money? Instead of thinking would it make me happy? The consequence of this mentality is prostitution- doing things without passion for money and sacrificing happiness for success. I know that is below me, but I feel the unpleasant pressure sure enough. After all I dream of having a family someday, and I want to be able to take care of that future family of mine. I don't even want that day to be so far away. My childhood naivete allowed me to think that I would have it all figured out by now.

      I fear looking like a fool for the decisions I make. None the less my decisions are exactly that. Mine! I am the one who will have to live with them, learn from them, and follow through with them. I keep looking to people for advice, but they don't know what I should do. Surprisingly I find support where I expect criticism. I am my largest source of indecision and negative criticism. I desire to let myself aspire more freely. By making myself post on my blog today, I feel that I am regaining the strength to write and to dream.