One Resolution I Won't Be Making
As we all know, I tend to think that we all have limited supplies of certain virtues or abilities, like patience, and every so often, we need a refill.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling that way about my creativity. No new ideas. No outside-the-box thinking. Not even adjectives with more than two syllables. I kind of figured I’d run out of this year’s supply and would probably need to wait for 2011 for some good stuff – knock on wood. (Or mediocre stuff. I’d take either at this point.) So far, I haven’t had much luck.
Fortunately, the SO, in a lovely show of support for my writing, gave me a box full of journals, pens and other fun stuff for Christmas. (He also included The Art of War for Writers, which would only be his fifth attempt to get me to read anything related to Sun Tzu, earlier versions including the plain old Art of War, Art of War flash cards, a mini-book/abbreviated version of The Art of War and The Art of War for Women at Work. Do you think he might be trying to tell me something?)
Moving on, one of those gifts is a small book shaped like a block called, wait for it, The Writer’s Block. (How I love those clever marketing gurus.) It comes complete with 786 ideas to jump-start your imagination – and a hilarious attack on The Bridges of Madison County, which I might have appreciated more than the ideas.
The first prompt I turned to was a jump-start word. So, with that in mind, here we go with “diet.”
I have never been good at dieting. Of course, until I was 19, I didn’t need to. I could eat whatever I wanted. I was that person with a naturally high metabolism that I now despise. I’ve covered this before, but since I lost 15 pounds my freshman year and ended up with a sunken in face, I actually needed to gain weight in the summer of ’99. Luckily, I took a job at a Mexican restaurant, so between that and my boyfriend’s all carb/athlete diet, I gained back those 15 pounds and about 15 more. For the first time in my life, I was overweight, so I turned to Slim Fast.
I gave myself two weeks to get rid of the weight, so I was on a bit of Slim Fast extreme. I remember sitting at Chili’s (a family favorite back in the day; the Mills love an awesome blossom) with my head on the table. “I’m just so hungry,” I said. “So, so hungry.”
But, I wouldn’t give up, and by the time I got to Georgetown to start my sophomore year, I was back to my self-imposed ideal weight of 118 pounds. (Just writing that number is hard for me right now.)
I was fine again (mainly because I spent too much of my budget on clothes rather than food) until I took my first office job. That’s when I learned the hard way that if you sit all day and make regular trips to the vending machine, you will not exactly stay thin.
When I literally split a pair of rather expensive capris ($105 is a lot to pay for pants that are going to take both your money and your dignity), I looked myself in the mirror and decided it was time to take action.
Unable to afford a gym, I went back to Slim Fast for breakfast, Lean Cuisine for lunch, a piece of toast as a mid-afternoon snack, some kind of dinner and hour-long walks around my neighborhood. Most of my waking moments were devoted to the thought, “I’m so hungry,” but after a few weeks, I got the affirmation every woman wants:
“Have you lost weight?”
(One thing I don’t allow in my house is a scale. I go by the way my clothes fit. Scales just depress me, and I make the nurse hide my weight at the doctor’s office, too. I have only seen my weight twice in the last seven years, and both times were by accident.)
I was content again, and sure that I would remain my lovely size four self forever. A few years later, when I gained some depression weight, my father got me a personal trainer. (Yes, I used to work out six days a week. Strange, but true.) It seemed that there was always a simple solution.
Then, I turned 25, and my metabolism died. I also realized that I was faced with a choice. Having an addictive personality is not always the most fun. I can speed through jigsaw puzzles, but when it comes to food and exercise, addictions can be ugly.
During the days when I worked out six days a week – hours of cardio alternated with weight training – all I could see when I looked at food was a number. A bowl of soup wasn’t a tomato bisque, it was x calories and required x number of minutes on the elliptical to take it off. Gatorade was 120 calories. Worth it or not? And don’t even get me started on desserts. I started to realize that I could either enjoy food or actually remain a size four for the rest of my life. I admire people who can stick to regimens. (Really, it's more awe than simple admiration.) I had to make a different choice.
These days, I’m a pretty content size eight, and I like it that way. Plus, a nice mini quiche on a holiday party platter looks like a delectable snack without the number 220 (or worse) floating above it.
Eating and living healthier? Always a worthwhile goal. Personally, I just prefer to stay away from the "d" word -- I don't need another avenue to show my OCD tendencies.
New Year, Same Me
I'm not much for New Year's Resolutions. Since I tend to find enough fault with myself as is, I prefer not to set myself up for failure with half-hearted proclamations that usually result from peer pressure. I've seen plenty of commercials for gyms, Nutri System and Wii Fit in the weeks leading up to today, but I don't think targeted ads and social norms are enough to bring about the will power I've lacked for the past 30 years. (Plus, chocolate-covered cherries are still half-price at Wal-Mart, and there aren't enough marketing dollars and judgmental stares for me to fight that kind of temptation.)
I also think the world is too hard on vices. Everything in moderation, as they say. Plus, I can't help but think the occasional vice -- whether it's a cocktail or some celebrity gossip -- keeps us all sane. I worked for a woman who did not drink, smoke, gamble or eat meat. She was one of the meanest and most difficult women I've ever known. If you ask me, a cheeseburger and a martini would have made all of our lives far better.
It's not that I don't think about self-improvement, I just prefer to do it in a different way. For example, I've spent the last year or so of my life working on approval. In the past couple of years, I've realized that there isn't an amount of praise that's enough for me.
If someone says that a story I wrote is "good," I want to know why they didn't use "great." If it's "great," I want to know why it wasn't "awesome." And if it's "the best work they've ever read and they bow down to me as the next great literary genius," I figure they're lying and trying to make me stop asking questions. (Not that the last comment has ever happened, but I wanted to paint a clear picture.)
If I hear 99 positive comments about my work or self and one negative comment, I only remember the negative comment. So, I decided that if others' approval was never going to do it for me, I should probably start cultivating my own.
Of course, this kind of attitude doesn't make everyone happy. People love to offer thoughts and advice because it makes them feel important, and if you've ever gone from a period of serious self-doubt to one of assurance or attempted self-confidence, you know how easily this can enrage those who were avoiding their own issues by taking care of yours. Luckily for me (?), upsetting people right off the bat was a great way to test my commitment to this notion of looking inside rather than outside for approval and self-worth.
It's been a good leg of the journey, but it's far from over. Next on my list: not comparing myself to others. And I'm sure that one's going to be a doozy. Hopefully I'll be ready for it by 2011.
But, back to the subject of New Year's resolutions. I was fine without having any sort of list this year, and I figured I'd just excuse myself to the bar whenever the subject came up at cocktail parties. Then, the SO and I climbed into the car:
SO: Got any New Year's resolutions for 2010?
Me: Not really. I'm not so much into that kind of thing.
SO: Would you like me to help you with your New Year's resolutions?
Me: I'd rather you not suggest areas of improvement for me. Unless, of course, you're planning on being single in the New Year.
He quickly relented. But, in the spirit of compromise to the SO and the world, I decided to cave anyway. I now give you my non-half-hearted New Year's resolutions:
1. Get a full-time job. For obvious reasons -- benefits and direct deposit being right at the top of the list.
2. Finish the manuscript for my children's book. It's only five years in the works; I'd rather not make it more than six.
3. Work on a proposal for my knitting book. When traditional publishing doesn't go your way, the wanting-to-be-published go non-traditional. Or something like that. Maybe?
4. Get the cat to pee in a litter box.
5. Deal with the series finale of Lost without some sort of post-partum-like depression. This will be far easier said than done.
I wish y'all the best in 2010! Thanks for reading! I really do appreciate each and every one of you.