To the Right of Elvis

Elvis was never one of my favorite singers.  Nor was Janis Joplin, Johnny Cash or B.B. King for that matter.  I liked the way Jimi Hendrix spelled his name, but his music?  Not so much.  Rock music hurt my ears and blues was my mama's style.  I was most comfortable with R&B or blue-eyed soul.  Classical music reminded me of my friend Beth's house.  Her parents listed to NPR and watched public television.  I liked that world.

The past few weeks have become a uncomfortable mess.  I find myself in a quagmire of stagnation.  My body continues to change, but the weight remains constant.  The exercise prevents huge gains, however, I seem to have lost the will lose more.  Finally, I realize why a greater weight loss frightens me.  The attention this new body attracts is glorious fun through my computer, but quite another story in person.  Two men I didn't know previously, approached me recently.  The men are polar opposites in absolutely every way.  In fact, the only thing they have in common was their apparent interest in me.

As Elvis was on the wrong side of my early musical taste, male attention (in my fat mind) is uncomfortable.  The more my body changes and morphs into Skinny Me, the more attention I receive and the self-sabotage begins anew.  Perhaps, the only way to get past this plateau is to make more changes.

Once, at a restaurant, I was directed to the ladies' room by being told that the door was just to the right of Elvis.  I followed the direction and found a most comfortable room.  As my musical tastes matured and developed, I learned that R&B is NOT the only good music.  I love many different genres, each serving a particular mood.  Now, I just need to know that Skinny Me's not scary.  In fact, she's the cool chick that can be found just to the right of Elvis.

and away we go...

A View From Love

My friend, Carter, shared his feeling about love with one of his friends and graciously allowed me to share his thoughts with you.  

By CHC:
"I thought I should share some economics of love.  I hope you will share or take from this whatever you need. It has been said that falling in love is wonderful, and that the best is falling in love with what YOU have.

In general, and with rare exceptions, the returns in loving situations are roughly proportional, to the amount of time and devotion invested.  The amount of love you get from an investment in love is correlated, if only roughly, to the amount of yourself you invest in the relationship.

If you invest caring, patience and unselfishness, you get those things back.  (This assumes, of course, you are in a relationship with someone who loves you and not a one-sided love affair with someone who isn't interested.)

High quality bonds consistently yield more return than junk, and so it is with high quality love.  As for the returns on bonds, I knows that my comment will come as a surprise to people who have been brainwashed into thinking junk bonds are free money.  They are not.  The data shows that junk debt outperforms high quality in rare situations, because of the default risk.

In love, the date is much clearer.  Stay with high-quality human beings.  And once you find yourself in a junk relationship, sell immediately.  Junk situations can look appealing and seductive, but junk is junk.  Be wary of it unless you control the market.  (The absolutely sure way to ruin your life is to have a relationship with someone with many serious problems, and to think that you can change this person.)

Research pays off.  The most appealing and seductive (that word again) exterior can hide the most danger and chance of loss.  For most of us, diversification in love, at least beyond a very small number, is impossible, so it's necessary to do a lot of research on the choice you make. It is a rare man or woman who can resist the outward and the surface, but exteriors can hide far too much.

In every long-term romantic situation, returns are greater when there is a monopoly.  If you have to share your love with others, if you have to compete even after a brief while with others, forget the whole thing. You want to have monopoly bonds with your long-term lover. Most situations, at least, work out better this way.

Long-term investment pays off. The impatient day player will fare poorly without inside information or market-controlling power.  He or she will have a few good days, but years of agony in the world of love.

To coin a phrase:  Fall in love in haste, repent at leisure.
Realistic expectations are everything.  If you have unrealistic expectations, they will rarely be met.  If you think that you can go from nowhere to having someone wonderful in love with you, you are most likely wrong.

You need expectations that match reality before you can make some progress.  There may be exceptions, but they are rare.  When you have a winner, stick with your winner.  Whether in love or in the stock market, winners are to be prized."


live well and love...

Sensuality...

Sensuality is the greatest gift of dance.  When music enters the mind, it lifts the senses and takes one to another dimension.  The chords, some dissonant; some harmonious, blend into a rhapsody that ease the body into ecstasy.  And it begins to move.  Sometimes it jumps and gyrates or the body gently oscillates and glides.  Round hips sway toward another's; arms surround arms, eyes meet, then bodies intertwine.  They pull away, held together only by hands, then quickly reunite to a lissome embrace, still swaying to the music.  A spin!  Rejoining!  Dance!

"Vivir Lo Nuestro" is my favorite Zumba dance.  

It is the song of two lovers declaring their 

devotion to one another.  I hope the

translation is correct.  The chorus goes like this:

In a black universe,
like the purest ebony,
I will build in white
our love for the future.
In a closed night
I will stop time,
to dream by your side
that our love is eternal.

When I hear this song, I must dance.  My body has gained new strength that celebrates sensuality.  And that which causes my head to rise a bit and my back to straighten, lets my hips believe they can rock a world.  As my arms reach for my imaginary partner, they rise gracefully as if to hug the sky.  I am drawn into a strong embrace and we float to that ebony universe.

and away we go...

Cha, Cha, Cha, Changes

It's inherent in any journey and over the past month, I've contemplated each change.  The exterior changes are somewhat obvious, perhaps more to others than myself.  The internal, more personal ones, hold my attention.  My body feels harder in some places; stronger.  I don't wobble like the weeble I used to be.  The stronger core that Jacob means to develop, supports me in a way I haven't felt in years.  Yoga finally makes sense to me and I cherish each session.  My breathing is deeper; calming and soothing.  My menopausal mind stills; focuses so I can find my way.  The Latin dance gives me a sensual feeling.  My hips sway when I walk.  I love my breasts again.  My shoulders slide back and I feel beautiful.  My wild-child hair twists and wraps its own way.  Whether it shrinks into a short wave cap or swings loosely to its own song, this hair frees my spirit and crowns this new body.

The weight stays constant; no less and no more than a few pounds.  The inches creep down like a slow barge.  But, the distribution?  The changes I feel and see motivate me to continue the journey.  I've been told I don't need to lose 60 more pounds.  And while I would love to believe that, I cannot.  The excitement to meet Skinny Me in person is just too great.  So, slowly we move down the path.  I'll meet you on the other side.

And away we go...

The Birthday Queen's Day of Fun & Frolic

The Queen in Her Element~

The weeks leading to the anniversary of her birth were experienced in dizzying dips of joy.  However, anticipating the "big" present and the cake lead the poor Queen to question her sanity and doubt the loyalty of the Young Prince and his Knaves.  You see Prince Jack, General Knave Carter and Colonel Knave Steven (and likely other unrulies) finalized the days' events, then conspired to mislead our dear queen.  Knowing her aversion to heights, Prince Jack and the Knaves would use skydiving as a red herring.  General Knave Carter would gently insinuate that the Queen would fly without wings!  Colonel Knave Steven claimed no plan knowledge.  As told to our graceful Queen, the cake, would not be baked by the royal bakery (Aston's Baker in Highland Park) because of its rather controversial message.   


Unbeknown to Birthday Queen, the Knaves carried out the rebellious Young Prince's wishes with gleeful enthusiasm.  Their "secrets" slipped out during midnight chats or casual text messages.  Our Queen refused to press the Knaves about details in order to help them  avoid the wrath of the Young Prince.  As a result, sleepless nights and jittery nerves nearly cost the Queen her throne (crazies aren't usually good queens).  The evil plan had worked!  


BUT!  Hours before the scoundrels' plan of Fun & Frolic was to be executed, General Knave Carter was unexpectedly called away on a required secret reconnaissance mission!  All were saddened.  Determined to soldier on, Prince Jack recalculated his options and carried out his alternate plan.  


    
The Queen's National Day of Fun & Frolic arrived!  Having been advised to dress nicely, but bring a bag of work out clothes and perhaps an extra pair of shoes, our Queen arrived at her Keller Williams' computer early.  Around noon, Prince Jack pick up her majesty in his gallant chariot and whisked her to The Porch where the day was declared one of "firsts".  The Queen dined on her first Tuna Nicoise Salad; quite tasty!  Then, back to the office for a brief catch up.  Then the festivities began!!  


Still prepared for "sailing without wings, the Queen allowed herself to be "blindfolded" as we headed to the "airport".   A stop to pick up the cake resulted in the pick up of Colonel Knave Steven, who reportedly could not attend.  The surprises continued in a plethora of pokes causing wheezy giggles, deep belly laughs and more than a few identifiable sounds.  Hours later, our grace found herself with Prince Jack and Colonel Knave Steven in Austin, Texas at a beautiful place enjoying the loveliest sushi in the world!  Oh, the cake?  A simple, light orange mandarin delight with the message:  Happy Birthday, Lynette


The night was magic...

The Arrival of the Birthday Queen

The Queen and her Pudding Knave:  8/12/2009

The Queen & The Tale of Orange Mandarin Cake

I love being a Queen; even if it's just in my mind.  I must say that I have this attitude because of my parents.  They made me feel like a princess.  In those days, dark-skinned babies just weren't cute.  "Black" was ugly; the doll studies said so.  I was dark chocolate with black, curly hair.  My mom thought I was beautiful from the moment she set eyes on me.  I had my daddy wrapped, too.  My mother always dressed me like a gorgeous little doll.  We didn't have much, but she didn't let us know that.  My father spoiled me rotten.  His love made home, for me, a palace.  He was my first hero.  His death was hard on us.  And now, my brothers treat me like royalty.  Each one has such a special place in my heart.  They make me feel very loved and special and each one will do everything he can to help me if I ask.

Last year, I told the story of my life through the eyes of the Birthday Queen (BDQ).  The Queen, because I am so blessed and feel treasured, "rules" her loyal subjects with love and kindness.  Yet, as in every Queendom, there are an unruly few!  Knaves who want to usurp the throne can't be stopped at the mote.  Many of my friends and family went along with the game and made me feel so special by playing in my world.  One friend wished me happy birthmonth all month long!!  An August baby herself, we exchanged hellos and good wishes each day.  Friends smiled and many laughed out loud (I'm told) at the Queen's antics.  And so the queen reigned.  From then and forevermore, the Birthday Queen appears the first day of each August and reigns until midnight August 31.

The Queen, this year, changed.  The picture leading the blog is 2009's Queen.  The second image reflects today's Queen.  And changes have only begun!  The Queen is stronger, more self-satisfied and definitely happier.  The new Queen is met with much support and encouragement!  In four short days, the Queen will be a year older, a decade wiser, and at least 26 pounds lighter.  She has already been given wonderful gifts; tangible ones like the new Zumba suit and new jeans.  The intangible gifts are invaluable; the "atta girl" high fives and generous compliments are priceless!  If nothing else is said; if no more gifts are received, the Queen has already had the best birthday celebration ever!  Through the BDQ, Lynette, lives well and loves!

and away we go...

And the Torture Begins..

Today was just out of control!  Jack and Gladys are now fast friends, intent on helping Skinny Me escape.  They have been plotting for the last week and their glee is unsuppressed.  The glints in their eyes say it all.  I am finally beginning to recover from an hour of Zumba hell!

The plot was exposed when Gladys, this afternoon, ordered me to do 3 sets of 10 (25-30 pounds of weight) on the Butterfly machine before class began.  Then she wanted me to swing 5 pound weights as I walked to class!  Has she lost her mind?!  Of course, Jack is loving this.  If that were my only torture, I'd probably be able to move now.  Oh, no!  The fun was only ABOUT to begin.

Since the Butterfly machine is broken, I used the pull down bar; yes, 3 sets of 10 at 30 pounds.  The first dance was quite a lot of fun, but 15 minutes into the class, my body decided it just wasn't up to it and my lovely instructor was not about to give me a break.  Her encouraging smile and "Lynette, move it!" kept me going for the next few minutes.

As we moved to the jumping part of the routine, I experience a whole new torture!  The Zumba girls, which now roll around in their compartments like squirrels in a sac, nearly knocked me down.  With each kick, they flew higher and higher.  At one point, I felt they would find their own heaven.  And the weight?  Oh, my goodness.  How can that be?  The last jump nearly lost me an eye!  I MUST find a sports bra.

Oh, and let's not forget the walk home.  I discovered muscles I only know about because I saw them in the anatomy poster on the doctor's waiting room wall.  The first 7 minutes lasted a year.  I realized that I had only walked about 15 feet.  Suffice it to say it was a very long walk home.  I really think my new bottom was being carved out during that walk.  I think the only thing that will help is a soak in the hot tub and about 20 Tylenol.

I need a nap...