For some reason, this Christmas season has found me more nostalgic than I think I have ever been in my adult life. Since I normally have a hard time getting back to California for the holidays at all, I feel extremely lucky that this year I was able to make a trip down for Thanksgiving and another one last weekend to celebrate my mom’s birthday with her as well as join in on the family Christmas traditions of decorating my parents’ tree and making a ton of cookies (known in my family as Bakefest).
I have such great memories of holidays as a kid. I truly felt that from Thanksgiving through New Year’s, it truly was the very most wonderful time of the year. There was so much to celebrate.My parents loved my siblings and I so much and did so many wonderful things for us, all the time of course but especially at Christmas. Now I’m in my thirties and I have more beautiful memories than I could ever collect into a blog post, but I thought I would share a few that I was thinking about during my visit last weekend.
My mom’s birthday is exactly a week before Christmas, and it was very important to us that her day be special and were horrified at the mere thought of anyone lumping her birthday in with Christmas. We always picked out birthday gifts that were wrapped in birthday, NOT Christmas, wrapping paper. I remember when we were little, my mom would unwrap her presents, and then my little sister would be so excited that she would go to the Christmas tree to start giving Mom more gifts. “No, no, Melissa, the rest are for Christmas,” Dad would remind her gently, and then we would go into the dining room for birthday cake. One year, I picked out a tiny glass horse with a pink mane, convinced it was the most wonderful thing Mom would have ever received. Of course, Melissa may have beat me out with the Pooch Patrol poodle she gifted Mom that birthday (the link is for the 1990 commercial, which I am very grateful to the Internet for making available).
When I was growing up, we would typically decorate the Christmas tree after dinner on Thanksgiving. This year though, my parents held out so that I could be there to help. As we put the ornaments on the tree, I remembered doing it as a little girl. My parents would sit on the couch, each with a box of ornaments on their laps. One by one, they would  lift out the ornaments and hand them to my siblings and I, warning us to be very careful. Then we would carry them to the tree and search for just the right spot to hang them. When they got down to the last few boxes, they would hang some near the top of the tree, because we were small and couldn’t really reach all that high (I think our tree was probably beautifully decorated from the kneecap down and naked at the top!). Most of the ornaments my parents have are older than I am, and as I selected each one I admired it just as I did as a child.

If I wasn’t already feeling sufficiently nostalgic after birthday celebrations and tree decorating, Bakefest did me in. Mom dearly loves to bake and has passed down that love to my brother, sister, and I. Our kitchen when I was little had a great full-length counter that divided it from the dining room. My siblings and I would pull up chairs from the dining table and kneel on them (or, when we were really small, stand on them) and “help” Mom make cookies. In other words, we watched and then enthusiastically licked cookie dough off the spatula and the beaters off the mixer. Once the cookies were baked, she would spread them out in front of us and let us decorate them with frosting and sprinkles. Somewhere in an album there is a photo of a toddler-aged me, butter knife in hand, a look of intense concentration on my face as I spread icing onto a cookie. This year, Melissa and I rolled out and cut out the cookies, using the same cookie cutters Mom helped us place in the dough when we were little: Santas, snowmen, holly, a reindeer we all loved but whose antlers were practically impossible to cut out intact. And the gingerbread….Mom would always make gingerbread cookies for our classes, and made sure that all the boys got boy cookies and all the girls got girl cookies. As an adult I have no idea how she had the patience, as I most certainly do not (some of my gingerbread people didn’t make it onto the cooling racks without suffering the loss of an arm, a leg, or at times a head, leaving me no choice but to put a swift end to their suffering by stuffing them into my mouth). The only thing missing from this year’s Bakefest was Dad’s fudge, which he used to make every year in his special candy pot and smooth into glass Pyrex dishes. This year I think we were all frightfully close to lapsing into sugar comas, so he decided to wait.

My parents always made the holidays so special and fun for us. Of course there are traditions we just couldn’t get around to in the three days I was there, but I have such great memories of things we would do together. My dad and I loved sneaking off together for a day of Christmas shopping, and our venue of choice when I was a teenager was the Block in Orange (it’s called the Outlets at Orange now). We would grab lunch and then make our way through the mall, enjoying the crisp-but-not-cold Orange County weather while we shopped. One of the things we liked best was that there was a Hilo Hattie store and we could buy Hawaiian-scented lotions and Hawaiian coffee. And one year, he took me to the Dewey Weber surf store (I think it’s in San Clemente?). I loved it. It was a small shop, jam-packed with surfboards and surf wear, and he got me a black Dewey Weber hoodie that I still have and wear, despite it’s being rather beat up now.
I very fondly remember Christmas mornings. When I was little, we were up before the sun, waking Mom and Dad and urging them to come to the living room because “Santa came!”. Santa gifts in our house weren’t wrapped, they were put out next to the tree on Christmas Eve. Presents from family were wrapped in coded paper. Before we kids were old enough to read, Mom would choose a wrapping paper for each kid and all of our gifts would be in that particular paper. To dissuade us from poking and pinching the gifts to figure out what we were getting, she didn’t reveal which wrapping paper was ours until Christmas morning, when we found a swatch of it in the beautiful stockings she made for us when we were very small. Once we got older and could read, she changed the system slightly and assigned us each a code name (for example, one kid’s presents would be labeled ‘Elf’, another would be ‘Gingerbread’, etc). On Christmas morning, our code name would be on a little swatch of paper in our stockings. Even after we were teenagers and the urge to feel up the gifts had subsided, we were adamant that she continue with the tradition.
The year I was ten and catching on to the nonexistence of Santa Claus, I begged Santa for a bike, sure that my parents would never get me one (we didn’t really live in a place where kids could ride bikes, as we had no sidewalks or parks nearby). We lived in the desert, so my parents got us dirt bikes and stashed them at a neighbor’s house. On Christmas Eve, as was tradition, my mom made a ton of tacos and enchiladas for dinner, and then we piled into the car to drive through the neighborhood and look at Christmas lights. I’ve always loved that. I remember being bundled into my cozy winter coat, snuggled into the backseat staring out the window while Christmas music played on the stereo. We would “ooh” and “aah” at the cool light displays. I don’t know if Dad scoped out houses beforehand or how he pulled it off, but he always knew where to go to see the best lights. On the particular Christmas Eve when I was ten, the neighbors waited until we left, then sneaked our bikes into our house and set them up in the living room. When we got home, Santa had been there, and we were totally floored!
The Christmas I was twelve, we were living briefly in San Diego. I was very impressed with my own self-perceived maturity, and so even though I was just as excited as ever for Christmas morning, I pretended that I was far too grown up to lose sleep on Christmas Eve. That year, my brother and sister must have been overcompensating for my aloofness, because they got everyone up around, oh, about 2:30am. I feigned irritation at them, but secretly I was absolutely fine with getting up and beginning the Christmas morning festivities. That was also the Christmas that Real Talking Bubba came to live with us on Christmas Eve. I don’t remember who he was a gift for, but I do remember sitting in the living room of our rental house, all five of us laughing so hysterically that we were crying as we played with that bear.
While we lived in San Diego, we got our boxer puppy, Shotsie. Once we had Shotsie, we always got her a new doggie toy on Christmas. Her present would be wrapped and placed under the tree, just like all the rest, and once we finished opening presents she knew it was her turn. She would wag her little stump of a tail with excitement as we helped her pull the paper off her gift to reveal her new toy, which she would then spend the day chewing.
I’m not a religious person at all, and my fondness for the holiday season has nothing whatsoever to do with faith or Christianity. I love this time of year because it was so special in my household when I was growing up and because I want to keep my family’s traditions alive. At home in Washington, I bake cookies, and I decorate a Christmas tree every year. I don’t have a fireplace but my childhood stocking is hung in my living room all the same. The special ornament my parents bought me for my first Christmas is hanging on my tree. And when I get the chance, I fly home to California and my family and I pick up right where we left off.

So in short, last Thursday was such a bad day that I was ready to abandon my life and move to Aruba.
As I am generally a pretty happy person, and my days on the whole are good, I think I surprise those around me a little when I am in a genuinely bad mood. The day wasn’t bad in that anything catastrophic happened, but rather a lot of minor irritations had been building up and I finally hit a wall where it was all just too much.
I got through the day. Bill took me to Pizza Bank and fed me lasagna and garlic bread and let me vent out all of my frustrations in between bites. And by Friday I was in a much better mood. I had a good day at work, had lunch with a good friend I don’t get to see much, and felt a lot better. But the day before had drained me and I felt like I needed to do something to rejuvenate, to give myself a fresh perspective. This was on my mind as I ran into the drugstore after work for a couple of things, and as I hurried past the hair care section my eyes fell on the boxes of dye. Before I knew it, I had checked out, rushed back to my car, sped home, and locked myself in the bathroom with a box of Auburn Delight.

My change from blonde to dark red hair was impulsive, and I am absolutely in love with the results. I’ve had red hair before, so I had a rough idea of what I would be getting myself into, but I wasn’t expecting it to feel quite so drastically better. Although I’ve had a couple of people tell me that they liked my hair better when it was lighter, the majority of the feedback I’ve gotten has been good, and of course my own opinion (that my hair looks awesome) is the only one that really matters at the end of the day.

Anyone who has read my blog for any length of time knows that I change my hair a LOT, and I’m sure at some point I’ll get bored with it and do something new yet again. But for now, I feel great about my new hair color and look, and a darker hair color was a great way to shake off my winter blahs!

One of my favorite things about the business park that I work at is that it’s cut by a small tree-lined creek. A walking trail follows the creek, and each day my friend Tracy and I head outside to walk a mile loop around the creek, enjoying some fresh air and the various wildlife that lives in and around the creek. Most days, we see ducks and birds, and every now and then we’ll get lucky and see a crane or a beaver.
For the most part, I just take in the scenery, but every now and then I do stop and take some photos along my walks.

I love being able to get away from my desk, even for fifteen minutes, and the weather is rarely bad enough to deter me from heading out to the trail. Even on rainy days, Tracy and I can be found making our way long the path, warm coats on and hoods up to protect our heads. On nice days, we venture out no matter how warm or cold the sunny sky happens to be.
Yesterday was one of those rainy days, but it wasn’t really windy and so we decided to take our usual walk. My favorite days are ones when we see some form of wildlife, so I was beyond excited to see this little guy waddling across the trail:

At first, we thought he might be a beaver, but upon closer inspection he had a different tail than a beaver would have. I didn’t even know what he was, but I showed my photo to a coworker who informed me that he was a nutria. When he caught sight of us, he huddled down under some low trees, watching us and sniffing at the air. He must have decided that we posed no real threat, because after a few minutes he made his way back to the other side of the trail, walked down a slight slope, and settled himself in the grass to nibble on it. I was delighted and could have watched him all day, but eventually we continued along our way around the trail and back to work.
I love living in the Northwest and having nature literally right outside my door, both at work and at home. I feel so lucky to have this amazing trail so close to my office, and am grateful that I found Tracy and can share daily walks with her!

Thanksgiving is only a few days away, and I’m super excited! Even though I’m not much of a fan of the month of November, I dearly love Thanksgiving and the start of the holiday season. This year I’m going to be spending the holiday visiting my family in California, and it will be my first Thanksgiving with them since I moved to Washington in 2010.
I am so incredibly fortunate to have so much to be thankful for this season: a wonderful family and friends, and a loving fiancee and sweet kitties that live with me in our warm, comfortable home. I have plenty of food to eat, a great job, a warm bed to rest in at night. The list goes on and on, and I could easily write an entire blog post just listing out things that I am grateful for. But just as I am so very thankful for all that I have, I am also very aware that there are so many around me that do not have even the most basic of things, no roof over their heads or warm clothes to wear or a safe place to sleep. It seems so unbalanced to me, that I have so much while others struggle to get by with so little, and so I try to do my part to help out those less fortunate than me. I wanted to take some time today to share a few of my favorite charities, and I hope that this will inspire those around me to find a way to help out those in need. I’ve included links to each organization’s website for anyone who would like more information or to donate.
Kiva
To me, Kiva is a gift that keeps on giving. It isn’t really so much a charity as it is a system of loaning money to people who are trying to better their communities but may not have access to traditional bank loans. Kiva is a non-profit organization that connects lenders and borrowers. To get started, decide on an amount to loan (my first one was $25, which was all I could afford at the time). Then review the different men and women who are seeking funds to improve their businesses and communities. There are a wide range of areas to choose from (for example, I lent money to a man who was saving up for a water filtration system to provide clean drinking water to students in Uganda). Find the perfect cause, lend out the money, receive repayment, and start all over! Over the years I have been repaid my money several times, then turned around and found new people and projects to loan to.
ASPCA
The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) was the first humane society in North America, and today it is one of the largest. They are a non-profit organization fighting animal cruelty throughout the US, with their mission being the protection, placement, and rescue of animals in need. While I would happily adopt every homeless animal if I could, unfortunately I don’t have the resources. Between donating monthly to the ASPCA and pampering my own three adopted cats, I am trying to do my part to help animals.
Cocoon House
In addition to larger national organizations, I also believe it is really important to offer local support as well. Cocoon House is a local non profit that strives to end youth homelessness in Snohomish County. It was started as a small emergency shelter but has grown into a nationally recognized program that offers a variety of programs to help at-risk youth and their families and to combat the problem of teen homelessness. It’s hard to imagine that there are kids right now with nowhere to go tonight, but over 34% of the homeless population is under the age of 24.
Snohomish County Food Bank
On Thanksgiving Day, most of us will probably eat far too much and then slink off to bed to sleep off the turkey hangover. But there are far too many people who are anything but full on any given day, and to help those people locally we have the Snohomish County Food Bank. This non-profit organization provides beneficiaries with food and social services every week. Those wishing to donate food can find drop-off locations on the organization’s website, and monetary donations are taken right online. Want to help but have a tight budget? The Food Bank is also accepting volunteers for a variety of schedules and jobs.
 
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

When I left my telecom job earlier this year, I also left behind its on-site gym with the kindly trainer Curt and his challenging but fun lunchtime classes. Once I started my new job, I joined a gym close to my new office with the intention of working out consistently. I started off strong and was really getting a solid bang for my buck. But over the summer, I started slacking and not going, and when I would work out I would just do a quick video at home or go to my beloved Zumba class. As so many people do, I became less of a patron and more of a donor of membership fees as I went to the gym less and less. It did bother me that I was wasting fifty bucks a month, and I tried to rally and start going back, but I only really found one class that I liked and I lack all motivation to work out by myself. If a flash of motivation arises, I do have a small gym at my office and one at my apartment complex. And so today, I decided to throw in the towel, admit defeat, and cancel my membership.
I went over to the gym on my lunch hour, thinking that I would be in and out and back to work in no time. At the check-in desk, I let the receptionist know what I wanted to do. His face immediately sank. “You want to cancel? No!” he exclaimed, clearly heartbroken. I remained resolute. I had been warned of this when I watched the episode of Friends, The One with the Ballroom Dancing, in which Ross goes with Chandler to help him cancel his gym membership but instead finds himself talked into joining the gym as well. I knew that there would be resistance, pressure, bargaining. After explaining to the traumatized receptionist that I simply did not use my membership, he told me that a manager would have to assist me with my request and motioned me to sit and wait on a Bench of Shame in the lobby that was reserved for quitters.
I sat down, and within a minute a friendly guy named Kevin came over to ask how he could help me. Once he realized I was there to cancel a membership and not start one, he backed away as if I had the plague, muttering that Frank the Manager would have to help me as he scampered quickly away.
Undeterred, I sat on the Bench of Shame for a few more minutes before Frank the Manager appeared and asked how he could help. After I explained (again) that I wanted to cancel my membership, he led me to his office and shut the door. I had a feeling that this was very similar to what happens when they pull you aside to tell you that they have decided to take Great Aunt Irene off of life support. He sat somberly at his desk and said, “So, you just want to cancel today,”  and I affirmed that, yes, I wished to cancel. Apparently fourth time’s a charm, because  he seemed to comprehend my request. He pulled up my account and said wistfully, “Oh, but you have such a good rate too.”
Kill me now.
I am not falling for your crap, Frank, I thought, while smiling and remaining firm that yes, I wanted to cancel my membership with my great rate. I explained that I simply didn’t use the gym, that I did not anticipate it changing, and that I had thought this through and wasn’t going to change my mind. He asked me if I had any friends who came to the gym with me and I said no. He nodded, empathizing that it is a lot harder to come to the gym without friends. “Oh, poor you, you have no friends” was what I’m pretty sure he was thinking. Then he switched tactics, asking me what my fitness goals originally were.
I was not going to be lured into a conversation about my longtime struggle of desiring washboard abs versus desiring cheeseburgers. “Just to maintain my health,” I replied quickly. “And I still take Zumba twice a week in Marysville with friends.”
I think this hurt ol’ Frank the Manager just a bit. “Why not come to our Zumba classes?” he asked.
Now, if you’ve never actually taken Zumba with Nancy McFadden, the answer to this question is impossible to understand. Nancy’s class is just…different. Less twirly-dance-y, more fitness-oriented. Plus, friends that I’ve had for years go there, and it is literally the only time I see them. “I just prefer to take the class my friends go to, it’s the only time we spend together,” I answered simply, trying to shut the door on this line of questioning.
“Well, how about we get your friends some two week passes so they can try the gym here?” Frank the Manager rebutted.
“All my friends have other gym memberships” I retorted. No idea if that’s true. Seems implausible, actually. But still.
At this point, I think Frank knew he was losing me and that he was going to have to double down if he was going to get anywhere. “What about your boyfriend or husband, could he come with you and motivate you?” he asked.
That had actually been the plan in the beginning, and it was working just fine until I got bored with it. Outside of Zumba, I’m fickle with my fitness. “My fiancee has a membership here, but I still want to cancel,” I said.
I did not realize it, but I fell directly into Frank’s trap. “Fiancee? I just got engaged too! On Tuesday!” he said, lighting up. Momentarily, I was genuinely happy for the guy, but that initial good-for-you vibe was quickly replaced with the realization that he had tricked me. Now he’d found common ground, now we could “bond”. We were going to be besties now, Frank the Manager and I.
He proceeded to tell me his engagement story, complete with a scroll of his Instagram photos of the Big Event, and I nodded politely while silently cursing him for wasting my lunch break when I really wanted to run over to Starbucks and get a green tea on my way back to work. I now know that he asked his girlfriend to dress up nicely before she went to work because he wanted to take her out to dinner that night, only to have a limo fetch her and bring her to a private tour of a local winery before having her presented with a heart-shaped cake with “Will You Marry Me?” written on it. As he wrapped up the story, he let out a chuckle and said, “Listen to me, telling you all about my life,” as he shook his head conspiratorily. Then for good measure he flashed me a photo of his small son wearing a dinosaur Halloween costume.
I said all the right things, the “oh how sweet”s and the “oh how cute”s. I still wanted a green tea though, damn it, and I did not want to encourage the fostering of this new BFFhood. So I did not offer up any tidbits of my own life. Frank the Manager finally cleared his throat and got back to business. “Now, it just sounds like you’re struggling to find your motivation right now. What we can do, is just put your membership on hold for free for a few months,” he offered, looking at me confidently. It seemed to him that we were not the same people that we were when we entered the room. We had bonded. We had shared things. Clearly I would agree to his offer. It made so much sense! Just put the membership on hold to give myself time to find my motivation, to find myself.
“That’s okay, let’s just cancel it,” I persisted.
I had clearly crushed Frank the Manger. He had put his faith and trust in me and I had let him down. He dutifully clicked a single button and I heard my email ping before he could even explain that I would have an email confirmation of my cancellation waiting for me, and that I was paid up through December 10th so I could feel free to use the gym until then. “Would you like a printed copy of your cancellation?” he asked me, gaze down, not meeting my eyes. I declined, and he ushered me out of his office and his heart.

As a music lover, I’m incredibly fortunate to live in the Seattle area. Great bands play local shows at cool, smaller venues, and I can enjoy a lot of music just a few miles from my house. Thanks to Bill, who introduced me to smaller shows, I’ve developed something of an addiction and am always on the lookout for fun bands to go and see. Some months, I’ll catch one or two shows, and then there are months like this October that have so many great shows that I’ll be attending at least one a week. Here are my top recommendations for fun shows and venues this month.
Jr. Jr. (formerly Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.) at Neumos – Oct. 6th
Yes, this one is slightly short-notice, but trust me, it’s worth rearranging your plans. Neumos in Seattle is one of my favorite places to catch a show. Originally Moe’s Mo’Roc’N Cafe, it opened in 1994 and then reopened as Neumos in 2003 (the name ‘Neumos’ is pronounced “New Moes”….get it?). The band, Jr. Jr., recently underwent a name change from Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. They’re best described as an indie band from Detroit and they’re always a fun band to watch. I saw them once before at Neumos and am psyched to go back again. The crowd may get a little unruly (which is funny to me since the band’s songs are on the mellow, upbeat side of things) but it’s definitely a good time.
Chvrches at the Paramount Theatre – Oct. 14th
I’m actually a little surprised that there are still tickets available for this show, since last year when Chrvrches played Seattle they sold out (so if you want to go, get your tickets fast!). I love going to see shows at the Paramount Theatre. It opened in 1928 and was called the Seattle Theatre. Originally a movie house, the Paramount has evolved into a performance hall that hosts a variety of great shows. I’ve seen everything there from concerts to Broadway shows, and it never disappoints. The architecture alone is worth a visit, but to see Scottish-originating electronic band Chvrches is . I first saw them at Lollapalooza in Chicago last year, and was super bummed when I went to get tickets to their following Seattle show only to find that they were sold out. Not only is lead singer Lauren Mayberry’s voice amazing, but the band has an awesome stage presence and their live performances are far better than a recording could ever truly capture.
DIIV at Neumos – Oct. 19th 
DIIV is an indie rock band with a very shoegaze-esque vibe from New York. It started out as former Beach Fossils’ drummerZachary Cole Smith’s side project (the band name is pronounced ‘Dive’ and was named after a Nirvana song). I was fortunate enough to see them earlier this year at the Capitol Hill Block Party and now I’m beyond psyched to enjoy their music live again. Go to this show prepared to be transfixed by bassist Devin Ruben Perez, because to say he is amazing is a major understatement. Their new single, Dopamine, is so good that I admit I’ve set it on repeat in my car because I can’t get enough of it.
Small Black at the Crocodile – 10/28
From reading this post, you might gather than I enjoy indie rock bands from New York, and you would be right about that. Small Black is another one, and their album No Stranger (released in 2013) was one of my favorites for that entire year. Now they’re back out playing shows to promote their new album, Best Blues, and will be at the Crocodile in Belltown. The Crocodile originally opened in 1991 and hosted shows to some amazing bands, including Nirvana and Pearl Jam. The venue closed in 2007, but luckily was renovated and reopened in 2009. You can show up early and grab a delicious woodfired pizza for dinner at the Back Bar before enjoying the show.

Happy First Day of Fall! Another glorious summer is now over and in the books. And while summer is by far my favorite season, I do enjoy autumn in Washington. The morning air is cool and crisp, the leaves on the trees are turning to vibrant oranges and reds, and I can start adding back some of my favorite sweaters to my wardrobe.
A lot of people take a break from their normal routines in summertime, whether they’re on a vacation or just spending as much time outside as possible to take advantage of the nice weather. Then once fall comes, it’s back to the grind. School is back in session, the days are shorter, temperatures are cooler. With more of the year gone than remaining, it’s a great time to reflect on where we started, and where we want to be by the time we bid 2015 goodbye.
Since the start of the year, I’ve been struggling with the extra ten pounds I gained in 2014. I started off January strong by going on a diet, but gave up by mid-February and lost all progress I’d made. Over the summer I spent a lot of time outside, and not a lot of time whatsoever in the gym. I indulged a lot. I had fun. Then after Labor Day, I thought to myself, okay, time to reign it in a bit. Time to get back on track. Honestly though, what was I trying to get back on track to accomplish? Yes, I’d like to drop those pesky ten pounds, but was that really the extent of my end game? I know I didn’t do myself any favors by trying to lose weight through dieting. It just doesn’t work for me. I had my greatest successes in the past when I gave up on diets and just focused on being fit and healthy.
I’ve ultimately decided that I do need to recommit, but to my goal from years ago of taking care of myself and living a balanced life. No diets. No extreme workouts. No restrictions and nothing off-limits. Maybe now that I’m in my thirties, what I weigh and look like right now is what the new normal will be for me. I’m not sure if that thinking falls into the category of self-acceptance or if I’m simply giving up and saying I can’t get back to where I was, but either way I am at peace with it.
I’ve spent the month so far packing myself healthy lunches, enjoying my Zumba classes, walks outside, and Body Combat classes at my gym (if you have access to a 24 Hour Fitness,check these classes out, they’re awesome!). I’ve been determined to make more home-cooked meals for dinner and have really enjoyed trying out easy, healthy recipes. Every time I try something new and Bill goes back for seconds, I practically radiate with pride that I made dinner and it was good. I’m balancing these healthy habits with some not-so-healthy, but fun ones: I still play trivia with my friends every Wednesday night at American Brewing Co., and I’m not going to go to my favorite brewery and not enjoy one of their delicious beers! I still eat a slice of birthday cake when someone is celebrating at the office. I still enjoy nice dinners out with Bill. I feel that these indulgences are absolutely okay if I’m eating healthily the rest of the time. And I am no longer going to force myself through workouts that I don’t enjoy. There are so many options for exercise that I love doing, so it seems silly to make myself miserable doing things (like running on treadmills!) that I just don’t like. I’ve exercised much more consistently and felt much more satisfied with my workouts since making this promise to myself.
In keeping with the be-healthy theme, I went to see my doctor this week for a wellness visit. She assured me that my weight and BMI are within the normal range and that she is pleased with where I’m at, and also said that my exercise frequency and levels were exactly where she likes to see them. So, there you have it. I’m healthy, I’m not overweight, I don’t NEED to lose ten pounds. What I do need to do is live a healthy lifestyle and take care of myself.
When I was younger, what I weighed was very much tied into my self-worth and how I felt about myself. This, thankfully, is no longer the case at all. I love my life, just as it is. It’s filled with love and happiness. A number on a scale does not define me and it does not determine my value. I refuse to let it. And anyone who likes me less because I weigh a bit more is not worth my time or energy.
Recommitting to living a healthy life – and giving up on weight loss goals – has been incredibly freeing to me. I am peaceful, calm, happy. And those things are greater than anything a number on a scale could ever say about me.

Earlier this year, I declared that I was going to attempt to grow out my hair after rocking a pixie cut for the last half of 2014. By July, I definitely had gotten back to a bob:

 
It was cute, for sure…but it wasn’t fun. And more and more I found myself contemplating going back to the pixie. I guess cutting off my hair is addicting.
I found a great new stylist, Lendy,  in my new hometown of Edmonds, Ombu Salon. At first, I simply had her trim and shape my cut, but a week later I called her back and told her that while I loved what she had done, I wanted a new style. I showed her some photos and we talked about things I like and things I don’t, and when I left her chair it was with what is hands-down the best cut I have ever had. I get so many compliments on my pixie cut!

I feel SO much prettier with my new hair and I have a lot of fun styling it every day. Even though my hair is definitely really short (no ponytails for me!) there are a lot of things I can do with it and a lot of different products I can use to achieve different looks. For everyday office hair, I keep it simple and spritz my hair with a spray wax (Bed Head Head Banger is a really great product) to add texture, tame any flyaways with my flat iron, and finish with a flexible-hold hair spray to keep everything in place. If I want more of a bedhead look on the weekends, I use a defining cream from Helios Essentials to create a more piecey look.
My advice to anyone contemplating a new look is to go for it. I wish I hadn’t spent so many years with long, boring hair just because I was afraid that short hair wasn’t for me or that I wouldn’t look good. Once I took the plunge I found that I actually look way better with short hair, and I have a lot more fun rocking it!

Oh hi.
It’s been awhile.
I haven’t blogged in, like, forever (okay, in 136 days – thank you, WordPress) and there have been some major changes in my life. It’s been a crazy few months and I have honestly been too busy living life to take time at the end of the day to write about life. But I miss writing. So, to get back in the swing of things, here’s what’s new and exciting:
I got a fabulous new job. In February, completely on a whim, I browsed job postings at the local power company and came across a job description for a position that was very similar to what I had been doing for the last few years. I applied, but it’s been so long since I put myself out there and applied for any position with another company that I tried very hard not go get my hopes up. I was excited when they called me for an interview but still trying to be realistic, and I went into it trying to stay in the mentality that even if I didn’t get the job, the interview experience was a great opportunity. But after meeting the people and hearing more about the job, I found myself calling Bill afterwards and saying, “I really, REALLY, want this!” And luckily, the company really wanted me, and called me a few days later to offer me the job. I had to keep myself from shrieking “YES!” as I tried to stay calm while accepting the offer.
I’ve been in my new job for four months now and I absolutely love it. I work for such a nice company and the people I’ve gotten to know and work with are all fantastic. As for my time at the phone company (eleven and a half years total), I am incredibly grateful for all the opportunities I was given and the amazing friends I made throughout my time there.
I moved to Edmonds with Bill. Yep, we took the plunge and moved in together. So far it’s been bliss. I love our cute apartment. I love seeing each other every day, and I love being in Edmonds. My parents came to visit us for the 4th of July and it was SO nice having a nice space for them to stay. I had a lot of fun taking them to the little local places that Bill and I have fallen in love with, and taking advantage of our close proximity to the water by taking a ferry boat to Kingston for lunch one day. I’m definitely an Edmonds kind of girl and I’ve found the place for me.
I fell off the Dukan Diet wagon and never climbed back on. My last post in February was one in which I admitted that I was struggling to stay on a diet that was at first pretty easy to stick to, and that I had gained back a little weight. I never got back into the diet and ultimately re-gained most of what I had lost at the beginning of the year. Weight loss continues to be a struggle for me. On the positive side, Bill and I joined 24 Hour Fitness and have been going pretty regularly after work, and I’ve started going back to Zumba on Mondays (long drive to get there, but well worth it). I do see some changes, particularly increased muscle tone, that I’m happy about. I’m working to rehab my eating as my failed attempt at Dukan has only reinforced my belief that DIETS DON’T WORK. Now I’m focusing on making healthy choices, one meal at a time, while allowing myself to make a bad choice every now and then. Currently I’m 9 pounds away from my goal weight. I’ll get there. It’s just not going to be fast .
In other news, I’m turning 31 next week. Time flew by and I can’t believe my first year in “Phase 3” (as Bill calls it) is almost over. It’s been such an amazing year full of great experiences. It’ll definitely be a hard one to top!
It feels good to be back from my unintended blogging hiatus. Maybe I won’t let another 136 days pass before I write again….

I just completed Week Six of my eating plan, and I’ve dropped another pound! That puts me at an even eight pounds down in the six weeks I’ve been following Dukan eating. These results are staggering to me, especially considering that I haven’t been following the diet exactly and have had my share of falls off the wagon.
Last Saturday was Valentine’s Day, and I was not about to worry myself with what I was eating over this special weekend. Bill treated me to a romantic dinner at Anthony’s in Edmonds, and also took me for a fantastic lunch yesterday at Ivar’s in Mukilteo. Both meals were delicious, and I focused completely on the amazing man that I was with and celebrating our wonderful relationship together and didn’t worry even slightly about the fact that my food choices were not Dukan-approved.
And that’s the thing I’m reminded of week after week of doing this: I am making lifestyle choices. I am choosing to eat better most of the time, and leaving splurges to a treat meal or so a week instead of just eating anything in sight. And as a result I am feeling so much better, both physically and emotionally, and when I do choose to have an off-plan meal I don’t feel guilty because I’m no longer doing it all the time. I feel like I’m back in control of what I’m eating and that feels great!
I’ve decided that going forward I’m going to change how I judge my weekly results. So far I’ve just been comparing my weight from one Monday to the next, but weight fluctuates and that method may not give me the most accurate picture of how I’m doing. So instead, beginning next week I’ll be comparing my average week loss for the week to that of the week before. I’m interested to see how this new method plays out!