Dear Bathroom Scale…



Dear bathroom scale,

I am really sick of your shit.

You  manage to make me feel like a complete failure every time I see you! I weigh in each week and then stare back at myself in the mirror and honestly think… “How can I weigh this much, and still look SO hot?”. You keep telling me I’m not good enough. You say..”stay in, don’t eat that. Don’t drink that. Have some water if you feel hungry…” well, you know what? I’ve had about enough of your attitude! I need to focus less on pounds and more on speed. That is the main goal for the marathon in June.

I have tried so desperately to please you. I have carefully tracked every single morsel and beverage that enters my digestive system by the gram.  It is a constant struggle because carbs will always love me more than you do! They hold onto me tight and never want to let go. It’s not their fault. We belong together… no, it’s not me, it is so you.

Hey, I never said I was going to be perfect! In fact, I no longer want this never ending illusion of perfect you so questionably offer. Therefore, I no longer need you! Tomorrow, you meet the first day of the rest of your life in the bottom of the dumpster. It should be a fantastic fit for you. You guys can talk “trash” about everything around you together. You and your transparent foundation of complete bullshit. I see you scale… I see right through you, in more ways than one.

Without apologies,

The tired feet above you.






Bucket List Update


I am so completely, head over heels, truly, inevitably in LOVE…

things i love:

With my current bucket list line up… and my life! haha.




My date is tall and oh-so-gorgeous! The band is Salt-N-Peppa! All I need now is the perfect retro (cheap) dress! This will seriously be my first prom folks. No, I’m not kidding.  In high school I was less than popular.

We could leave it at that…or, I could tell you I was a total nerd with pink hair who may or may not have in fact been at prom…. and who may or may not have had something to do with fireworks in the gymnasium…

Ahem, anyway! Moving right along! 


4/8/16-4/14/16 – Take a beach road trip somewhere in a stylish convertible.

Vogue January 1961

Isn’t this a dream we all have? If not, what the hell is wrong with you? Sunshine, wind in your hair, car dancing, produce stands along the way. Besides, I just love fast cars and excuses to kidnap my girlfriends! I also love Pearl Jam and I’ll be catching 2 concerts with 2 of my favorite people. 4/9 ( Pearl Jam – Miami ) 4/11 (Pearl Jam -Tampa).

Are you ready for Pearl Jam's 2015 Latin American Tour? Tickets for Chile, Mexico City, and Colombia are on sale now! Find the full list of tour dates at #PJLatinAmerica2015 #PearlJam:

No big deal! Let me just put my heart back inside of my chest…


6/18/16 – Mayor’s Half Marathon

I always like to have a good fitness goal for the year so I have decided that I will be running 13 miles on 6/18. I have also accepted the fact that doing so might kill me. Currently, I run about 5 miles before I am unable to comprehend the art of breathing and my legs feel like jello. A standard 5 k was my goal last year, so this is quite a stretch!

Luckily, I still have plenty of time to train and I’m planning to do a few good races in between for solid practice. I’m struggling mostly with diet. Of course, that is not because I don’t know what to eat but because I just really LOVE food okay? Shut up scale. I’m working on balance instead of perfection. Balance is easier because it actually exists.


8/22/16 – First novel to be released. That’s right! This is finally happening. If you know me or have dated me, you are probably in it. Title TBD.

The fall and remainder of the year is still pretty open. I’ve got a few things in the works. I’m not quite sure how it will all play out just yet, but I am confident it will be just as wonderful as the rest of the year.

What dreams of yours are coming true? Remember, don’t let them starve.





Letting go


*The hardest thing is watching somebody you love forget they love you...* #alzheimers #dementia #caregiver:

We are raised knowing our parents will get older. We spend our teenage years rebelling against them and our early 20’s tolerating their need to still treat us like children. Sighing and rolling our eyes as they continue to remind us that the way we do absolutely everything is not the way they would do it.  Not even close.

The years go by and they complain we never call anymore and still remind us of the simplest things like… “wear a coat”. We listen, we sigh.We grudgingly wear the damn coat, even though we are sweating when it’s 75 degrees an hour later. All the while , we are fully aware that they will not always be around. That one day we are going to wish they were there to get on our nerves. Even though they weren’t perfect. Even though we aren’t always sure why. The day will come when we will want to give just about anything to help them get back into their email account… (for the 100th freaking time), or just to ask them what that one ingredient for a recipe was called that we can’t ever remember.

Luckily, if our parents have a sense of humor, they might try to help us prepare for this part of life by cracking jokes about their will or insisting they don’t need one. They will out live us after all… because they don’t forget their coat. They eat their vegetables. They wear sunscreen and go to bed early.

We kind of hope it’s true. This beautiful illusion we have that life will last forever simply because we love someone. Yet, we are adults and we know that death is just as much a part of life as birth.  We prepare ourselves for that day the best we can. We try to take care of them when they are sick, help them when they feel lost and soon the roles are reversed between parent and child. This, we can try to prepare for. This, we can plan.

The thing you really can’t prepare yourself for is the moment you realize you are grieving someone who is still very much alive, just no longer there. I could never have prepared for the person who taught me about life to forget how to live so completely. What’s worse, they forgot how to love anyone or anything. They become a shell and insist that you hate them, you must. But, you don’t. Not even close. You want to hate them. Hating them might make it easier. Loving someone who suffers from memory loss due to dementia or any mental illness is like watching them drown slowly in a room to which you do not have a key. You can’t pull them out. It’s not a lifetime movie. It’s not The Notebook. It’s a fucking nightmare.

This is not something I usually talk about. It has affected my life immensely. It matters because people matter to us. If your parents are still around to annoy you. If they tell you that they love you and that they wish you’d call them more. Believe them. The day you think you are preparing yourself for might be so much closer than you think.

“The trouble is you think you have time” – Buddha