and he's dreamy to boot.

in ,
























how to say this?

i think food and weight is one of the next great political issues in this country.

all you have to do is read the information out there.

for the first time in our history obese women are giving birth to children in huge numbers. and no one's really sure how's this is going to affect those children. but the studies done indicate that it won't be good.
sorry, that's an understatement.
it will be bad: predisposition to diabetes, brains that actually crave fatty, processed foods.

so you can see how this obesity thing might snowball. will snowball.

there is movement, across the country to legislate how we deal with food.

the new york city calorie count law. (which i happen to think is bad).

a tax on sodas and juice drinks. (which i happen to think is good--it's like taxing cigarettes, that extra money makes it slightly more difficult for people to buy. and the idea is more people will turn to water {good}).

to say we need a revolution in the food industry is not histrionic or hyperbolic. it's a fact.

diets do not work. over the long run, they do not work. people do not fail. the diets do.
processed food is bad. how food is manufactured is bad.

i've been watching jaime oliver's food revolution over the last few weeks. and i've been floored. by the lack of words like weight and calories. the emphasis on health.

the thrusts to his program are

1. eat real food
2. learn to cook


do you know that if people were to those two things (two things!) the obesity epidemic could be cut in half?

hmm. so maybe he's on to something?

it's the first and only reality television show i've ever seen that's gotten it right--that hasn't been a quick fix for one person or one family. that wants to make small and very possible changes that could actually, yes, revolutionize the way america eats.

this is all to say: the season finale is tonight. i think you should watch it. or dvr it. or hulu it tomorrow (as i will do).



(climbing off soapbox now).


image via google

the couch.

in


there's a spot, on the furthest end of the couch, where one can sit and see nothing but water and rock and the green of trees newly bloomed.

i sat here the first day and thought. this is where i will come. to sit and write and drink my coffee. to begin my day with a quiet prayer. and feel my body hum with gratitude.

i am slowly learning that things happen just as they meant to. time unfolds and reveals us to ourselves.

and for now, those are the only words i have.

so blogging and morality...

in ,

i asked the questions. mulled over all your gorgeous and insightful and contradictory but still valid responses and this is what i came up with:



i don't know.


that's my answer.

i don't know.

the decision of what to share, how much, to what extent--it's personal. and it's day to day.

that's about as much as i know.

i'm gonna have to assume that guys google. facebook stalk. use technology to dig around a little.

the next time i enter into a relationship i'm gonna be really honest. and upfront:

i write. i write about my life. and if you choose to play a part in my life...well, continue at your own peril.

if he chooses to read the blog. great.

but he has to tell me.

because the blog has to then be a discussion--something we talk about so that i'm sure he gets the whole story. straight from the horse's mouth. otherwise we run the risk of him reading it--thinking something's about him when it's not. (and this situation played out in about a thousand other variations).

he has to give me a chance to explain some things: just because i write about love and marriage doesn't mean these are things i necessarily want right now.

the blog can never substitute for face to face conversation.

(actually, on that note i'm doing away with all texts and phone messages as a means of conveying anything of any import. because what is life but one massive game of telephone tag, anyway? and the technology is just one more degree of distortion. you know? i might even transport myself back to the 1800's when letter writing was the truest form of courtship. everything that needed to be said could be. on paper. in ardent language. because, let me ask you this, how can like or lust or love be talked about using anything less than ardent language? but i digress.)

the point is. the blog has done so much good for me. i really like the blog. and my mom's right and so i don't think i'll ever again change something i've published because some guy takes offense to it.

but i have to learn that the blog is not my first form of defense. or communication.

and because i tend to go quiet when i most need to say something, i can get myself into trouble. holding it in. getting it out only later by taking pen to paper (or in this case fingers to clickable keys).

some things need to be said. aloud. face to face.

so, okay. i will try that. and if it means i carry around a little spiral pad and golf pencil and sit there across from him and write what i cannot say, well then, so be it.

because i'm working on it.

the point is, at the end of the day we must answer to our own moral standards. and share that with which we are comfortable. and go with the gut. and realize that sometimes we'll fail, but such is life. and hell, it's worth a go.

retail therapy?

in

i was meant to meet the roommates at anthropologie yesterday. we were going to peruse the home goods section. take advantage of the sale.

i arrived early.

wandered over to the jewelry.

found a pair of earrings that i liked.

held them up and studied my reflection.

thought, wonder if he'll think they look beautiful on me?

(because this is what happens when i like a guy, shopping suddenly becomes an attempt to see things through his eyes as well as my own).

remembered that not only would he probably not care, he'll not see them.

he'll not see me.

so not therapeutic.



c-jane inspired post edit:

so glad i didn't get those earrings yesterday. found a much better pair today.
see, patience! (and metaphor).