Thanks to all the encouragement that I received here from my MFP family members, I went into last night's audition feeling pretty darn good about myself.
I'd read the script I bought online a dozen times. Hell, I nearly had the production notes memorized. I could actually hear the voice of the character I wanted to read for in my head.
And I felt...pretty. No, I mean...really felt put together. Even though I do the whole hair/makeup/nails/dress clothes thing every day of my life, I felt especially good about how I looked. I probably haven't been able to say that in... gosh, I don't even know. It's been many years.
I believe a lot of that has to do with you. Thank you. Thank you for the lovely messages you wrote to me. You don't know how much it meant to me yesterday, and how much it means to me today. You moved me.
I arrived at the Fine Arts Center feeling confident and prepared and like I was the best version of myself that I could be. In the car, I spritzed on the smallest amount of perfume, because it soothes me. I popped a sugar free Breathsaver (logging it now, thanks - I forgot!) and thought of my husband, who I think may be addicted to them. I looked in the rearview mirror at myself one last time and said, "Here I go!" and in I went.
Imagine my complete surprise when the very sweet elderly woman at check in informed me that they'd lost the license to put on the play I wanted to audition for...that it sometimes happens if a national tour is running the show...but that I could talk to the director about an alternative...
SHOOT! I was so ready to read for Dixie Swim Club!!!! The shock didn't even have time to register on my face, because within a minute and a half, I was up on stage with a completely different script that I've never even heard of, running lines with a woman I hadn't even met yet. (I introduced myself to her when the director asked us to run it again, reversing our roles.)
And...I think I did okay. I'm no Meryl Streep, but I think...I think I did fairly well, all things considered.
The director asked us to read yet another scene, adding a male stand in for one role and a young girl to the mix. I thought, as I drove home, that if I'd totally sucked, the director wouldn't have kept me around for a half hour, right? And that if nothing else, I put on my application that I could do sets, makeup, write press releases or design programs and posters...I've got experience with all of that. So, I should be able to help in some capacity, if they want me.
So, it was a good experience. I really had fun!
But what I keep thinking about is...those big beautiful lights and how surprisingly - maybe for the first time since I was that young girl, dreaming her dreams - I didn't mind having that brightness focused right on me.
p.s. I'll let you know if I get a call back or they let me do something else with the production of the show...thank you so much for caring.
Posted on 6/28/2012 by futuresize8
Once upon a time, there was a girl who wished she could make her living in the arts. She drew, she danced, she sang...she loved makeup and pretending.
When she put on her flag corps uniform and stood tall with her gossamer flag in hand, she felt important. She loved the way her body learned to understand the music, and how she could combine the crisp, military-style moves with the soft, flowing ones. Becoming captain was one of her proudest moments.
The girl had seen the high school's show choir perform when she was in the third grade and was determined she'd join them one day. She tried out and, by the Grace of G*d, she made it. When she sang and danced with her classmates, performing all over the city, she forgot everything else in the world.
The girl loved musicals. She saw some of her older friends perform in the splashy high school productions and prayed that she could one day try out for them, too. She would have been happy as a stagehand...anything to be near those bright lights. With a little luck, she landed a few roles - nothing big, but good enough for her. Playing Cha Cha Digregorio in Grease was her favorite, and the director let her choreograph a few other routines. She was in heaven.
And then the girl graduated. She wanted to go to the Conservatory, but her father told her she wasn't that talented. (And then he left the girl's mother and didn't speak to the girl anymore...he found a new family.) So, the girl worked all the time to get through college, even working three jobs one quarter. And then she graduated, couldn't find a job in her field, and went full time in retail because it's what she knew.
There was no time for drawing or dancing or singing.
And then the girl married that person who we won't discuss here, but as you know...it was dangerous and there was no fun-having.
She didn't even feel like singing or dancing anymore. And she gained weight.
But then...she got a great job. And she escaped from the mean person. She became a grown up and started to take control of her life. And she met the man of her dreams and they built their love, long distance, for 6 and a half years, until settling in one place together. And then they got married. And they got a puppy.
And then the woman started figuring some things out. And realizing that, as she began to shed the pounds that had been a hinderance to her, her health and her self esteem...suddenly, she felt like dancing and singing and acting and drawing and painting and sewing again. She felt like living. And celebrating.
Tonight, she is auditioning for a play in a community theater. She bought the script and has been reading it all week. She doesn't expect to get a part, but she feels confident enough to try. If she's honest, she'll tell you that she is terrified.
And incredibly excited.
Posted on 6/27/2012 by futuresize8
A few months ago, I wrote a post about how I felt a little discouraged that my awesome inlaws (how I adore these people...) didn't seem to notice my weight loss when we gathered for my nephew's confirmation celebration. I felt silly even mentioning it here, with all of you who are so sympathetic and supportive, because the day wasn't about me and the world doesn't revolve around me, but if I'm being honest (which I can't help), it did bother me a little.
I am not sure how many pounds down I was at that point, and other people had noticed, like my parents and co-workers. But what my inlaws are thinking really matters to me, too, and I...I guess I always want them to feel like my husband made a good choice by picking me. (Gosh...why would all the value they have in me be tied up in my appearance?! Why do I think this way?! I know better!)
Anyway, we gathered this past Sunday for my niece's graduation party and one of my sister-in-laws was walking behind me and she said, "Um, have you lost, like, a whole bunch of weight?"
Why, yes...yes I have...
My husband's aunt later motioned for me to come over. "Honey, are you losing weight? You look great!"
Why, thank you. Yes I am losing weight. I have a good bit of weight left to lose, but I am losing. I was also sporting capri pants that hadn't seen the light of day in about six years.
I had a biometric screening at work today. The screening last year left me feeling like a total loser, and not in a pounds-loser sort of way. I felt like a failure, seeing those numbers and having no idea why I couldn't be the size I wanted to be. All my blood statistics came back wonderfully, but that meant nothing to me. Isn't that stupid? Some people would LOVE to be in my place, with disease-free blood, healthy cholesterol numbers, balanced iron and triglycerides. All I saw on that piece of paper was the weight.
I'll get my blood results back in a few weeks, but the scale revealed I'd recently lost another two pounds. (It's been a few weeks since I weighed...I am not weighing weekly on purpose.)
This means I am 25 pounds lighter than I when I started here. 176 days in.
Can I do this? Yes. Am I super motivated? Affirmative. Am I proud of myself? Absolutely. Can we do this?
Yes, yes we can...
Posted on 6/26/2012 by futuresize8
Okay...I couldn't stomach watching the entire 10 minute video of the bus montior being verbally abused and threatened. It just ticked me off way too much and I can't go there.
But did anyone watch this and notice how many of the kids' vile comments were about the bus monitor's weight and think about how cruel and disgusting these brats are? I read (didn't hear because I couldn't take watching all of it) that one even said something like if he 'stabbed her, the knife would go right through her because she was mostly lard.' Are you kidding me?!!?? Who thinks of things like this, much less says it? What is WRONG with these children?
I have a stepson who was (thankfully) expertly raised by his Mom and Dad even after their divorce, and he would not have participated in this and probably would have taken lengths to stop it. He is really such a good boy with a strong sense of justice. I don't know what I would do if one of these heartless taunting children were mine!
I was subject to a little bullying in gradeschool and it is the worst feeling. I am sure some of you reading have been touched by it, too. It's not just "kids being kids." It's kids being assholes because they haven't been raised properly. Yes, I said it: kids can be assholes. And if they behave this way, they must swiftly be dealt with and taught manners and compassion, either through volunteering with those less fortunate or through being shamed. Structure. Discipline. Consequences.
Three very tough girls picked on me endlessly in junior high school because I was friends with a boy who one of them "liked." We'll call him James. James didn't like the girl and politely tried to decline her efforts, even when other boys in class told him he should just use her for sex because she was "that kind of girl." (Seriously? Sex was the furthest thing from my mind at 13. Hormones raging, even James must have felt the same way because when he told me what his classmates said, he followed it with "Ew, not my type.")
These girls terrorized me, daily throwing notes on my desk that read, (with my name misspelled because they were somewhat illiterate), "We're going to kick your ass." They would "accidentally" run into me in the halls. They would intimidate me in the locker room, making fun of my lack of boobs, acne, braces, cheap clothes and scrawny body. They tried to start rumors about me, but I was so unknown that it didn't do much good. Once, one of them spat at me in the lunchroom. They wrote on my desk so I'd get in trouble for it. They generally made my stomach hurt and filled my days with dread.
I never said anything to teachers or my parents because it would have only made things worse. That is how "justice" works in school, right? My friends stuck up for me simply by staying my friends. There's something to be said for that. But we were all little, skinny dorkettes and couldn't have stopped these witches physically.
But with a snappy comeback? Yes! We were all crammed into in the girls' bathroom after lunch, re-applying Wet n' Wild lipgloss, AquaNet and blue eyeliner (as you do in junior high) and here they came. Comments flying, snide marks smearing the air, which felt thick with tension as I held my breath.
"We're coming to your house after school and we're going to beat your face in!" Witch #1taunted. "I am going to personally kick your ass," Witch #3, (the largest of the witches) said, getting way too close for comfort. I can still remember that sensation...my skin literally feeling like it was trying to shrink away, even though my feet were planted suprisingly firm.
The whole bathroom was quiet. Suddenly, I found my voice. "How is that going to work exactly?" I heard myself say.
"What do you mean? It's going to work like this: my fist, your face," Witch #2 explained, punching her fist into her cupped hand.
"No, I mean, what are you going to do? Ask your parents to drive you to my house, get out of their car, knock on my door, and say, 'could you please come outside so we can beat your ass?' Because I don't see that happening," I quipped.
And some girls, who were sharing the prime bathroom mirror real estate, who I didn't even know, started laughing. And then others joined in. My friends' jaws were slack with amazement (and fear for what might happen next.) And then I think I might have started laughing. And before I knew it, the mean girls magically retreated.
I saw one of them, years later, working as a cashier in Thriftway. She looked exactly the same, and while in some cases, that's a compliment to someone 20 or so years post graduation, in this case it wasn't. She'd come no further than she was in junior high - same feathered, stringy hair, same stubby bitten nails, same crappy attitude. All encased in a not-so-flattering smock. And I...couldn't gloat. I felt sorry for her. She looked really miserable.
She didn't recognize me...I'd escaped geekdom. Me with my poise, my makeup, my carefully styled hair. Me in office-job-clothes, picking up groceries for my Grandma, paying with cash I earned at my solid job. Me, who had long since fixed up James with a friend of mine in college, who he married. Me...the former nerd who couldn't be squashed by mean girls.
I pray for Karen Klein and her family, for relief from the degradation of bullying, the embarrassment and the onslaught of media attention as a nation watches those ten minutes of verbal torture and humiliation. I pray that people learn kindness and compassion. I pray that people recognize souls and find not just tolerance, but love. I pray. Amen.
Posted on 6/21/2012 by futuresize8
I mentioned in my News Feed yesterday that two of my beloved co-workers had spontaneously brought in bagels with cream cheese and donuts. Because I (fortunately) have no carby-sweet setting, I didn't feel tempted at all. While sounds of "mmmmmm" and "nom nom nom nom" filled our office space, I was happy in my cube, munching my 100 calorie Stila bar and drinking my lovely black coffee. It's my daily ritual and I enjoy it.
I don't judge my colleagues' love of decadent foods. It means something to them. Most of them are in decent shape and can afford to eat unhealthily here and there without suffering real consequences. I am not that person. For me, I'd rather have that extra 450 calories in the form of a cold glass of Pinot Grigio - or three - at the end of my workday post workout (after a giant glass of water, of course.) I respect that for each of them, food is a celebration and not regarded as fuel. But, for the most part, I see food as fuel. Granted, I want my fuel to taste good, but looking at gooey icing or cream cheese honestly doesn't turn me on.
So, I can deal with the flurry of eating sounds while they enjoy themselves with no problem. What is difficult, though, is the insistance that I participate. Please know, I don't skulk off when the donut box is brought out. I don't want someone to feel bad about their choices...eating is as personal as religion, right? I will say, "Those are beautiful!" or "Look how fancy those are!" when people break out a giant tin of cupcakes. I am totally cool being around others chowing down on chocolate icecream bars. I'm not drooling. I'm okay, people, really...as an adult, sweets have never really been my thing.
But when someone says, "I bought that caramel nut crunch donut with you in mind," I feel like I have to explain myself. Why? They all know I've made a lifestyle change. They compliment my progress. Thank you for thinking of me, but you know I'm not going to eat that, so why put me on the spot?
"I know how much you used to like a good crunchy 'everything' bagel...I brought one for yooooou...." they sing. What I want to say is, "Yes, and I had the ass to go with it." But that doesn't seem appropriate.
I'm not living sparcely. I'm just choosing my treats wisely. I'd like my treatment by others to be...just respectful of this change. Respectful treatment.
My treats last night? My daily hour of recumbent biking. Weedwhacking the backyard and hosing off the patio and appreciating how drenched with sweat I was from my workout. Peeling off sweaty clothes and getting a longer than necessary shower. Exfoliating and using self tanner (I want to show off these muscular legs I've earned in a skirt without cumbersome stockings soon.) Putting on the softest PJs ever and chilling on the couch with our puppy (my sweet husband is out of town) for a little bit. Going to bed just a little earlier so I'll feel more rested today.
I think my version of a treat beats the sprinkles off a jelly donut. And how I'm treating myself is better than ever.
Posted on 6/20/2012 by futuresize8
Somewhere along the course of the last month, I've done some reading on this site and elsewhere and I've grown to consider some things.
While I had a rocky road in the past - as many of us have - I never thought that it had anything to do with being overweight. I think I excused myself from that concept because I'm (thankfully) not an emotional eater. In fact, in times of stress, I eat less.
So, it never occurred to me that my extra pounds were connected to a tough childhood and an abusive first marriage. In my mind, I was a survivor. In my mind, I'd figured out that what happened to me as I was growing up lead me to make a bad decision in my first husband...I was used to being treated a certain way, and even though it sounds irrational, it makes perfect sense that I signed up for a second helping of misery when I chose a spouse. But I got away from all that, and now my life is good. So...my extra pounds were just all my fault; I was simply fat and I needed to do something about it.
But I think I've realized something recently...it's not just that I ate too much and didn't exercise enough.
It's that somewhere inside, I stopped taking care of myself. In my scramble to be a rock star and appear unscathed by the bullsh*t, I was too busy tip toeing and tap dancing, trying to make everyone else happy. Because if I'm perfect and thoughtful and everyone is happy, they'll all like me, right? I'll be loved and accepted and never mistreated ever ever ever again.
This left me with very little time to do anything for myself.
Believe me when I say that bending over backwards to make sure the needs of every single person around you are met will not make you fit, thin or healthy. Or happy.
Instead, I secretly felt resentful and settled into the occasional entitlement of, "I'm going to sit here and not do anything in this hour because I deserve it. I'm tired."
Even before this month's revelation, I'd made a committment to stop the inner grinding and start doing something about what I'd become. I came up with a plan to get my body and my health back and it meant that I was going to spend some time here logging my food. It meant that - yes - the entire world would have to stop for an hour a day as I worked out.
I've finally forgiven myself for my past bad decisions. I get it. I can't go back and fix it. But I can make the most of the present.
I am living my forgiveness.
So...I think I'm in love with me. I might actually be worthy of my own respect. I feel so much better about who I am as someone who can interact more confidently, who is stronger, who stands taller...who has a backbone and can occasionally say, "No, I'm sorry I can't do _______ because I need to power-walk the dog then ride my bike." For ME.
And I realize that this love of myself puts me in a better place to love others and to actually give more.
Are you in love with you? Are you finding that you have a newfound respect for yourself since you made the smart decision to take control of your life, maximize your now and celebrate the future you're creating?
Here's to falling in love with your new you...
Posted on 6/13/2012 by futuresize8
I just read an article that I LOVED. It's worth a read. You can visit the site here:
Or read my cut and paste below. Can I get an Amen?
"The Last Diet You Will Ever Need - Mark Hyman, MD
Why is it that we believe we can feed our bodies industrial, nutrient-depleted food-like substances empty of life and be healthy? How did we come to believe that food industry chemicals and processing could replace nature-made foods?
A hundred years ago all food was organic, local, seasonal, fresh or naturally-preserved by ancient methods. All food was food. Now less than 3 percent of our agricultural land is used to grow fruits and vegetables, which should make up 80 percent of our diet. Today there are not even enough fruits and vegetables in this country to allow all Americans to follow the government guidelines to eat five to nine servings a day.
What most of us are left with is industrial food. And who knows what lurks in the average boxed, packaged, or canned factory-made science project.
When a French fry has more than 20 ingredients and almost all of them are not potato, or when a fast food hamburger contains very little meat, or when the average teenager consumes 34 teaspoons of sugar a day, we are living in a food nightmare, a sci-fi horror show.
The very fact that we are having a national conversation about what we should eat, that we are struggling with the question about what the best diet is, is symptomatic of how far we have strayed from the natural conditions that gave rise to our species, from the simple act of eating real, whole, fresh food. When it becomes a revolutionary act to eat real food, we are in trouble.
The food industry, which is the second biggest employer in America after the federal government, heavily influences the media and government agencies that regulate it (U.S. Department of Agriculture, Food and Drug Administration and Congress) and intentionally confuses and confounds us.
Low-fat is good -- so anything with a "low-fat" on the label must be healthy. But Coke is 100 percent fat-free and that doesn't make it a health food. Now we are told to eat more whole grains, so a few flecks of whole grains are sprinkled on sugary cereals. That doesn't make them a health food either.
The best advice is to avoid foods with health claims on the label, or better yet avoid foods with labels in the first place.
In the 21st century our tastes buds, our brain chemistry, our biochemistry, our hormones and our kitchens have been hijacked by the food industry. The food-like substances proffered by the industrial food system food trick our taste buds into momentary pleasure, but not our biology, which reacts, rejects and reviles the junk plied on our genes and our hormonal and biochemical pathways. We need to unjunk our biology.
Industrial processing has given rise to an array of addictive, fattening, metabolism-jamming chemicals and compounds including aspartame, MSG (monosodium glutamate), high-fructose corn syrup and trans fats, to name the biggest offenders.
MSG is used to create fat mice so researchers can study obesity. MSG is an excito-toxin that stimulates your brain to eat uncontrollably. When fed to mice, they pig out and get fat. It is in 80 percent of processed foods and mostly disguised as "natural flavorings."
And trans fat, for example, is derived from a real food -- vegetable oil -- chemically altered to resist degradation by bacteria, which is why modern cookies last on the shelf for years.
But the ancient energy system of your cells is descended from bacteria and those energy factories, or mitochondria, cannot process these trans fats either. Your metabolism is blocked and weight gain and Type 2 diabetes ensue.
Your tongue can be fooled and your brain can become addicted to the slick combinations of fat, sugar, and salt pumped into factory-made foods, but your biochemistry cannot, and the result is the disaster of obesity and chronic disease we have in America today.
No wonder 68 percent of Americans are overweight. No wonder that from 1960 to today obesity rates have risen from 13 percent to 36 percent and soon will reach 42 percent. Over the last decade the rate of pre-diabetes or diabetes in teenagers has risen from 9 percent to 23 percent.
Really? Almost one in four of our kids now has pre-diabetes or Type 2 diabetes? And 37 percent of normal weight kids have one or more cardiovascular risk factors, such as high blood pressure, high cholesterol or high blood sugar, because even though factory food doesn't make them fat, it makes them sick!
It is time to take our kitchens and our homes back. Transforming the food industry seems monumental, a gigantic undertaking. But it is not. It is a small problem. In the small places in our lives, our shopping carts, the fridge, the cupboard, the kitchen and on our dining room table is where all the power is.
It is the hundreds of little choices, the small actions you make every day, that will topple the monolithic food industry. This century is littered with the bodies and institutions of fallen despots and despotic regimes -- from the fall of the Berlin wall to the Arab spring. There is no force more powerful than a small group of individuals with a desire to end injustice and abuse.
A very simple idea can break through the confusion and plant the seeds of a revolution. Our bodies were designed to run on real food. Our natural default state is health. We need to simplify our way of eating.
Unjunk our diet, detoxify our bodies and our minds and we heal. Simply choose foods such as vegetables, fruits, nuts, seeds, healthy oils (olive oil, fish oil, avocado and coconut oil), small amounts of whole grains and beans and lean animal protein including small wild fish, grass fed meat, and farm eggs.
There are no diets, no calorie counting, and no measuring fats, carbs or protein grams. None of that matters if you choose real, whole, fresh, live foods. If you choose quality, the rest takes care of itself.
When you eat empty industrial food with addictive chemicals and sugar, your body craves more, looking for nutrients in a dead food where none are to be found. Yet after eating nutrient dense fresh food for a few days the biological addiction to industrial food is broken, and in a few more days your cells begin to rejuvenate and you heal from the inside out.
And the side effects are all good ones: effortless weight loss, reversal of high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol, clearing of brain fog, lifting of depression and fatigue and even better skin, hair and nails.
What is more important than what you take out of your diet is what you put in. Add in the good stuff and there won't be room for the bad. Mother Nature is the best pharmacist and food is the most powerful drug on the planet. It works faster, better and cheaper than any other pharmaceutical.
Whole, real food spiced up with a few super foods such as chia, hemp, parsley, cilantro, coconut and green juicing can beneficially affect thousands of genes, regulate dozens of hormones, and enhance the function of tens of thousands of protein networks.
Dinner is a date with the doctor. What you put at the end of your fork is more powerful than anything you will ever find at the bottom of a prescription bottle. The roadmap to health is simple: eat real food, practice self-love rather than self-loathing, imagine yourself well, get sufficient sleep, and incorporate movement into your life. The solution to our health crisis and obesity epidemic is not complicated.
Health and happiness are often just a few days away. Each of us has the capacity to make the small changes in our lives that will create big changes in our food landscape, our agriculture and even our government policies.
I hope you will use the power of your fork to be part of the start of a true food revolution.
Now I'd like to hear from you...Have you changed your eating habits to include more real food? What have you done to create a healthier diet for your family? Have you eliminated MSG from your diet? Please leave your thoughts by adding a comment below.
To your good health,
Mark Hyman, M.D.
Mark Hyman, M.D. is a practicing physician, founder of The UltraWellness Center, a four-time New York Times bestselling author, and an international leader in the field of Functional Medicine."
Posted on 6/07/2012 by futuresize8
...and to myself, too.
Because, you know, a friend won't tell you only what you want to hear. A true friend will tell you the truth. So...please don't take this personally. Think of this as me leaning across the table and whispering to you, "Friend, you've got a tiny bit of spinach caught in your teeth."
It seems like a lot of my MFP friends started a healthier lifestyle program about the same time as I did. I'm not a "New Year's Resolutioner"...I just so happened to start my experiment in January. It looks like the Holidays inspired a lot of my MFP friends to begin around the same time.
And I've got to tell you, here in our sixth month together? We're not doing all the same things we were doing when we started. And my progress - or lack thereof - is showing it.
You know what I'm saying, right? You are logging in and recording your food, but are you logging everything? Do you find you're taking more "days off"? Do you find yourself saying more and more, "It's just one day...no big deal...I can get back on track tomorrow..." Do you weigh yourself and say, "I'm not recording this gain. It's not real," and not using your food journal to analyze why the gain happened? Are you finding that you're not as resourceful as you were when you started...constantly thinking of ways to do more and be healthier all the time?
All of these things are okay. They're not the end of the world. No matter what, you're still better off than you were before you started improving your life here. You are. Me, too. And that's a fact.
And it's natural. I keep telling myself this. I've lost enough weight that - while I still know I've got plenty more to lose - I'm not in "panic mode" any more. I'm in clothes I haven't been able to fit into in years, and people have commented on my progress. I do look and feel better, so I've gotten a little complacent. I think you might be feeling the same way...are you?
But at the same time, if we drift away from our newfound health and wellness, and fall back into old habits, then this wasn't a lifestyle change, was it? I don't want this to be a diet...I want this to be the real thing. For LIFE.
So, I'm recommitting myself today. I thought about three things I could do to right now to rededicate myself and get that scale moving in the right direction again:
- I'm going to log my water every day. I was doing this in the beginning, and I stopped counting it. I don't know why. I like water, I drink a lot of it, and I should be logging it. Maybe I'm not drinking as much as I think I am. Who knows?! I am about to find out.
- I'm going to increase my miles per day on my bike. I have gotten comfortable riding 10 miles per hour, one hour per day. I can do 11 or 12 miles per hour. I used to. It made a bigger difference in the amount of sweat and I know that more mph means I'm pushing myself. 10 has become easy. I'm shooting for 11 this week. I may also get out my little hand weights and do some arm thingies while I'm riding. I won't log this extra exercise, but I will do it to see if I can increase the burn.
- I'm going to spend a little more time on here, supporting you. I haven't been the best at this lately, and I'm sorry. Sometimes, all I'm finding time to do is log in, log my food, and log out. I give a high five here or there, but since more people have become my friends (which I really appreciate!) I don't alway see what everyone is doing and I miss you! So, I am going to try to reach out to some of the friends I haven't seen in a while.
What can you do to recommit and increase your progress? Are you with me? Let's do this!
Posted on 6/04/2012 by futuresize8
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