Journey With Me

I was going to make some crack about the song Time Is On My Side by the Rolling Stones, until I realized it is actually about a guy who is fairly convinced the girl who left him will crawl back to him (I call this “Man-Delusion”. Not much has changed in 200 years.). Now the song will be on continuous loop in your brain.

“It’s a small world after all…” 

Sorry.

My schedule as of late has proven to be a challenge. Actually, what has been the challenge is to get what I need to get done and get where I need to be by 7:00p.m. Like tonight, for instance. I didn’t get out of the gym until just before 7:00. By the time I got home and showered (before you ask: no, I will not shower at the gym) the clocked had ticked its way to 7:30. If I had gotten dressed and flown out the door, I would have arrived where I was supposed to be after 8:00. It ends at 9:00, I would have gotten home at 9:30. This entire thought produced a mild panic attack. Therefore, I put on my sleep shirt, a pair of shorts and washed my lunch dishes.

I think that would be my only complaint about going to the gym after work. I, in all honesty, cannot comfortably call it a complaint. For the moment, it’s the way things need to be. Mondays and Tuesdays seem to be the days where I feel pressed for time. And for those of you who know a little of what’s up on a personal level, I do not desire to feel pressed at all. For me it’s the same as being suffocated, as if the air has slowly been sucked out of the room.
Sleep has been difficult for the past couple of weeks, even with the Ambien. I’m waking up in the middle of the night (interrupted sleep), lately I’ve woken up practically daily around 4:00a.m. for some insane reason. The sleep problem has most likely added to the whole panic attack thing I mentioned earlier…which also might be an indicator I need my meds adjusted. I already have an appointment to meet with my doctor next Friday for a follow up to something else. We are going to have a chat!

On another note, I can’t believe next week will be nine months. I’ve lost 120 pounds thus far. I’m about half the person I was inch wise (a year ago I wore a 32 in pants). I own boxing gloves and bright green sneakers. I now wear a large t-shirt as compared to the 4X’s I wore last year at this time. I am about to do something daring to my hair (you’ll have to wait to see…if it comes out bad I’m not showing you). The driver’s seat in my vehicle is closer to the steering wheel than it’s ever been. I no longer eat ice cream (pick yourselves off the floor). I went from having to be put on high blood pressure medication to 110/60. How cool am I?

I still don’t recognize the woman in who looks back at me every day. I’ve been assured this will change eventually. In the meantime I’m just taking things day by day.

Oh, apparently I did have an Ambien moment. I woke up this morning to find half a tiny bottle of Diet Pepsi on my nightstand next to a cheese stick wrapper.

I remember nothing.

Toodles.

Mini-Interview: Jill R..

There are 14 years between my friend Jill and I. She’s 27 headed for 28, I’m 41 headed for 42. From time to time I tell her technically I’m  old enough to be her mother. Hey – it could have happened (my mother would have been sooo p—-d!). We were introduced to each other in a bar in North San Diego County several years ago. Jill liked car bombs. I liked whiskey (as some of you know, a little too much). Jill was confident in her ability to do just about anything (don’t let her tell you any different. She’s freaking brilliant.). I was the local smart-ass (yeah, not much has changed). We liked beer, hated our bosses, dug tattoos (on different levels), we fantasized about tripping skinny people (sorry), we loved to eat, we both were fat…

We became instant friends.

We know each other’s stories fairly well. Jill loves Kiss and The Reverend Horton Heat (two completely different sounds on a music spectrum). She used to only wear flip flops. Her husband owns a tattoo shop in Escondido (shameless plug, click here). She owns a bookkeeping and tax preparation business (second shameless plug, click here), as well as two dogs, a bird and a hedgehog.

Over the past eight and a half months, Jill and I have spent a tremendous amount of time on the phone. We both made a decision to change our lives, and we discuss it practically daily because we’re not in the same state anymore. I thought Jill’s weight loss story would make for a great blog and she obliged me. I should make it clear: we both started our weight loss journeys in May, different things propelled us to make our decisions (i.e. I opted to do weight loss surgery – which doesn’t make one magically thin). However, we both have literally worked our asses off. Here’s Jill’s words:

What led you to decide to lose weight?

I got on the scale and it said 375. I got on the scale 5 freaking times and it still said 375. That number scared the (blank) out of me. I was 27 and 375 lbs. My husband is 6’6″ and weighed 400 lbs, how the hell did I only weigh 25 lbs less than him? That is soooo not the way this is supposed to work! And more than that… I knew that if I kept going that way I’d be dead before I hit 40, I didn’t want to die. I mean I know we all got to, but didn’t want to die because I let myself get to damn fat.

What did you do when you started going to the gym?

When I started going to the gym, I could barely walk without being out of breath and miserable. I would walk maybe 10 minutes on the treadmill at a speed of 2.0 and then do maybe 15 minutes on the exercise bike. After that, if I felt up to it I would lift weights. I usually did seated dips (20 lbs, 3 sets of 10), tricep extensions (15 lbs, 3 sets of 10), seated rows (10 lbs, 3 sets of 10), lat pulldowns (20 lbs, 3 sets of 10), chest press (25 lbs, 3 sets of 10), and leg press (50 lbs, 3 sets of 25).

What do you do at the gym now?

I do the elliptical for an hour (burning between 1500 and 2000 calories), then I will either do the stair machine for 30 minutes, or run on the treadmill for 30 minutes. I usually rotate the stair machine and the treadmill. After I’m done with cardio I do situps. I use one of the bosu balls, and I’ll do at least 250 situps a day (sometimes as much as 500). When I’m done with my situps, I move on to weights. I do both leg and arm weights every day, my trainer HATES me for it, but it works for me so thats what I do. I do Bicep curls (20 lb free weights, 3 sets of 15), seated dips (100 lbs, 3 sets of 15), tricep extensions (75 lbs, 3 sets of 15), seated rows (50 lbs, 3 sets of 15), lat pulldowns (90 lbs, 3 sets of 15), chest press (105 lbs, 3 sets of 15), shoulder press (50 lbs, 3 sets of 15), pull ups (using the machine that helps you, I put the counter weight at 100 and do 3 sets of 15), leg press (250 lbs, 4 sets of 25), squats on a bosu ball (I usually do this with 15 lb weights in each hand and do bicep curls while I am doing squats. I do 4 sets of 25), and push ups on the bosu ball (flat side up, 4 sets of 10). There are other exercises I do, but for the life of me I dont know what they are called. I’ll try and explain them as best as I can… One of them I will sit on a bench, put my hands right next to my butt, then slide my butt off the bench, keep my legs straight and dip down until my elbows make an L and go back up. I think its pretty close to the seated dip, but man it burns those triceps. I’ll do 4 sets of 25. On another one of them I stand up, back straight, bring my elbows to my sides and using one of their free motion weight machines I pull down until my arms are straight, then go back to them being at a 90 degree angle. I’ll do 3 sets of 15 of those. There is more… but I could sit here all day going on and on. That is the bulk of it.

What’s a typical day of eating look like? 

Breakfast 8 a.m.= 1 cup of Honey Bunches of Oats cereal or 1 packet of instant oatmeal or a Nutri-Grain bar AND protein.

Snack 10 a.m. = if I get hungry between breakfast and lunch I’ll grab and handful (like 10) plain almonds, or a piece of fruit

Lunch Noonish = 3 days a week I do just fruit. So maybe 1/2 a bananna, 1/2 an orange, a kiwi, couple strawberries and some lemon (i LOVE lemons). The other days, I’ll do either 1/2 of a boneless skinless chicken breast and veggies, sometimes 1/2 of a turkey sandwich on wheat bread, and sometimes Healthy Choice soup.

Snack 3 p.m. = cheezits with cream cheese and sliced jalapenos (12 cheezits no more, no less), or a handful of almonds, or a piece of fruit AND protein.

Dinner between 6 & 7 = Grilled boneless skineless chicken and veggies, just veggies, turkey burgers (no bread!!!), turkey tacos (no fried shells), or really any one of a million other things. I just try to keep to Chicken, Turkey and Veggies. 

If I get hungry after dinner I’ll usually grab a sugar free popsicle, or 1/2 an apple.

I do the Optimum Nutrition Whey Protein – Vanilla Ice Cream Flavor. I do 1 1/2 scoops in the morning and 1 1/2 scoops in the afternoon. 

(We have a disagreement over Cheezits. I think they’re gross now.)

I don’t spend nearly as much time in the gym as Jill does (she reminds me she doesn’t have bad knees). We each had a different approach, each with the same results: rapid weight loss. Jill started her journey at 375. Today she’s at 193.5. That’s a total weight loss of 181 pounds in eight and a half months (I’m seriously jealous and tell her so. Her response is always the same: “Dude…you’re taller than me.”).

Making a lifestyle change is always difficult and requires an incredible commitment. Those who have never struggled with obesity (which is different than carrying around an extra 30 pounds) do not understand the things we as fat persons have dealt with throughout our lives. Jill and I talk about that very topic often, and recently we’ve talked about looking in the mirror. Generally speaking, large weight loss is experienced over a span of years. The individual has time to adjust to the changes. With rapid weight loss, the changes are so quick the brain doesn’t have time to catch up. This is what Jill says about the mirror:

Most of the time I feel like I am looking at someone else. I think I see me as the fat girl in those pictures. It’s like my brain hasn’t caught on yet. Maybe disbelief is a better word.

Here are Jill’s before and after pictures. She looks amazing.

I am a firm believer God created things out of the needs which arose in the midst of those He loved:

Physicians (no brainer). Water pots. Shrunken staffs (canes). Togas. Indestructible shoes. Food raining from the skies (no, Sony Animation didn’t think of it first). Fireproof clothing. Wood that floats.

Deodorant.

Seriously. Could you imagine what the stench must have been like for the poor shepherds who had to herd sheep in the desert, under the hot sun, in togas and turbans? What about the disciples? Bible says they washed their feet, I don’t remember anywhere it says they took a bath.

“John.”

“Yes, Peter.”

“Could you sit over there on that empty pillow at the table?”

“Is there a particular reason?”

“An odor emitteth.”

I arrived at the gym today just before 5. After I changed I eagerly climbed onto an elliptical, fumbled with an app on my phone, set the level thingy on the machine display and
proceeded to do my thing. Not even two minutes passed before I caught a waft of an odor.
While it hung out like Casper the Friendly Ghost, I scoped the mirrors to find out where it came from. Which really could have been anywhere, the ceiling fans did not help the situation at ALL. Whomever it was, they smelled like they were workin’ on the railroad…

…and warehouse…and freeway…and…

Enough about the stinky person.

I have gotten a little bored with my play lists I put together for my workouts. I love the music, but to have to listen to the same songs over and over is annoying (I have this same issue with the radio. Solution: Pandora, Slacker…). Yesterday I learned of an app where someone mixed a whole mess of music with beats as part of their podcast, and they update the play list every week. So I found it in iTunes, then discovered two things: 1) it’s an iPhone app and I do not own an iPhone. 2) To eliminate the 60 second business blip at the start of every song one must upgrade to Premium. I searched to see what that looked like. It’s not even available yet! Grrrr…

So I searched the Android Market and came across this free app called FIT Radio. Their website said, “FIT Radio puts fast-paced, club-inspired mixes at your fingertips, available on-demand. Whether you’re breaking a sweat at the gym, bored at the office, or busting moves with friends, FIT Radio enhances any occasion.”

Well, it was free. I figured if I didn’t like it I could always delete it.

This thing is the BOMB!

FIT Radio is a small music player which has genres (i.e. Top 40, Hip Hop, Rock, Indie Rock, Electronic Dance Music, Dubstep, Party, Indie Dance, Lounge, Open Format), and over twenty stations (i.e. iClub Radio, Back in the Day, House Sounds, Live from XS, Live from Opera, etc.). Small note: there are a couple of genres and stations which have the word “Explicit” in the description. Means the listener won’t get surprised by the station. I appreciated the heads up.

FIT Radio does have advertising. However, I only heard the one which said I was listening to FIT Radio. Major score there. In my opinion the most fantastical thing about FIT Radio is the music stream itself. Each song moved to the next flawlessly. I’m serious! No skips, jumps, long pauses, or cut-off endings. It was so great.

So if you have given thought to switching up your workout music, I highly recommend you
check out FIT Radio. It’s free and quite nifty.

(***No, I wasn’t paid to share my opinion…actually, they have no idea I am posting this. Hopefully they won’t be too offended Stinky Person appeared first***)

-Traci

Today was a busy day which really started last night with dinner with my cousin. I had a Boot Camp session scheduled with my trainer that my other cousin was coming to on the far side of town. Then her and I visited over a bowl of oatmeal, toast and orange juice (I had the oatmeal). Afterwards, I ran home through a freak snow shower to change clothes, grab all the laundry bags and heff them over to the laundry mat. Fifteen people hid all the the rolling baskets. Seriously. There were two or three parked alongside various rows of washers with all sorts of crap piled up inside of them. It was then I realized the obvious:

The laundry mat was filled with hoarders.

I got to read half an issue of Time on my nook. Really. I’ve blurted this out before: it’s interactive. For someone who has a teeny tiny addiction to electronics….it’s AWESOME! I check news junk online throughout the day or week, but Time I read cover to cover. Makes my laundry days less boring. And I don’t glare at the guy who decided to shove my stuff over on the table to fold his boxers (uh…EEW!).

After folding my boxers (kidding) I trollopped over to Meijer on 14 Mile Road. There’s a reason I don’t shop at Meijer on 14 Mile Road. It was freaking packed and full of rude people. Rather than say “Excuse me” to  shopping cart clusters of customers fighting over a jar of peanut butter like two top models would fight over a candy bar (joking!), people would just stand in the way…staring. As if sheer will were enough to shove all of the obstacles out of the way. I wasn’t having any of it. I was on a mission, and some dude was in the way of my almonds – he looked like his puppy got kidnapped. I politely said “Excuse me”, he dramatically picks up the cart an moves it over, I politely say “Thank yoooou”. I think he attempted to bore holes into the back of my head with his imaginary laser beam eyes because I made it through the peanut-butter-fighting-shopping-cart-people-cluster.

Well, nobody was fighting over peanut butter. I said that for dramatic effect.

I got home and started to unload my treasure trove of goodies and clean socks. Armed with six or seven bags and a relatively heavy purse, I tromp up the stairs, push the little screen door open and step onto my porch (it’s more like a super big mud room). Over to the right I noticed two bags of clothes I had sitting there were disturbed. One had fallen off the other  with obvious signs of rodent tampering. The other was tipped over and had this gaping hole  that had been torn in it, there were black plastic pieces of the bags all over the floor.

Next the bag moved, I screamed and an overly-nourished grey squirrel bolted out from between a pair of pants and flannel pajama bottoms which were in the bag, ran into my leg and slammed himself into the corner of the screen door. Kid you not, head first. His little arms splayed out from the force of the impact – like something out of a cartoon: splat! Then he ran through the opening, zipped down about seven stars and sat there. Staring at me. He drummed his little claws together like he was pondering the next move, but his little black beady eyes silently dared me to drop the groceries and give chase.

I tried to shoo him off the stares, but all he did was glare at me.

Like a hole in the head.

Prior to my having weight loss surgery I was told my taste buds might change. They have a little: I can only eat one brand of cottage cheese (Daisy), all the others I used to like I now can’t stand the taste, let alone the texture. Sour cream is  a definate no-go. Not a big fan of mangos. Don’t dig strawberries. I used to detest cantelope, but it’s become a little more tolerable. Still hate lemons, and onions are now viler than they were prior to surgery. I’ve become a touch sensitive to tart (or sour) foods. I absolutely love almonds (I have a snack basket with tons of little almond packs) and peanut butter (I have a second snack basket full of nothing but Jif-To-Go cups). Still love tomato, cucumbers and feta. I like Greek yogurt if it’s got stuff in it.

Usually I get Chobani. I loved it so much I at one point sent an email through their web site saying why I loved it and how it worked for my new way of eating (I received a hand written thank-you card in the mail, accompanied by several coupons and a nifty little magnet). Every now and then I’ll pick up different yogurts. Last week I picked up Fage Greek yogurt. They have a little pocket on the side filled with fruit, that one scoops out and mixes into the yogurt (that’s after one gets spit upon by removal of the little foil lid which is fused onto the container). Really talented people manage to get it on their desk while mixing (cough, cough). Blueberry is my favorite.

I really should have stuck to the blueberry.

“Honey” was the flavor today. First of all let me just say whomever though to put honey in that stupid side pocket ought to be slapped. Seriously…have you ever scooped cold honey? It’s like the consistency of Play Dough (without that smell). Then trying to mix it into a pile of cold yogurt. Oh. Em. Gee. Wally. It hardens right up. So there I am trying to mix this hardened glob of honey into a teeny tiny area of yogurt.

Yep. Got it all over the place.

When I finally managed to get half of it mixed together I almost threw up because of the taste. I can’t even describe it. It was just…just…awful.

If I had just stuck with Chobani…I wouldn’t be writing this blog.

Oh…I’m eight months out. 113 down. And today the doctor looked at me, raised his eyebrows and said, “You already look like a thin person.”

-Traci

I’ve been driving an SUV for quite a long time. I’ve had moments of driving smaller vehicles (i.e. the Mazda RX7 that Don Arnold left a fat note on the dashboard of titled “This Car Needs” – the tires were just a tad out-of-round [ahem]; or the little green Geo Ruben and Angela John loaned me several years ago when the engine on my teal Jeep Cherokee Sport blew…to this day I think they secretly watch videos of me getting in and out of that car!). But, for the most part I’ve become very accustomed to driving a Grand Cherokee.

Until this morning at slightly past seven. I came down the stairs from my flat and immediately noticed the Jeep didn’t sound right (I live in Michigan, I have a car starter…and yes, I use it all year long). You know – that sound which indicates something is “off” but you can’t describe it. You just “know”. So I put my lunchbox and purse in, tuck my uber big coffee tumbler into a safe spot, get into the front seat, verify the radio is off, shut the door, put on the seat belt, slide the gearshift from P to R and about had heart failure right there in the morning dark by myself in 32 degree weather.

“WHIRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

I put the stupid thing back in park, waited a second, then put it back in reverse. Same awful whirring noise comes from somewhere inside the engine compartment. What I really heard was, “Whirrr-cha-ching….whirrr-cha-ching….whirrr-cha-ching”. I throw it back into park, rev the engine as if magically that will be the ultimate resolution….aaaand not a stinking thing changed.

Holding my breath, I back up – praying nothing bad happens over the next twenty feet or so. Then I head to work. And of course, I hear E V E R Y T H I N G you can possibly hear in a car that was built in 1996 over the course of the next 3.5 miles.

It gets better. At lunch I decided to run back home to check my emergency fund booklet and the engine CLACKS really fast.

Side note: I had called one customer to find out if he knew of anyone selling another Jeep. When I told him about the clacking he said, “That’s not good”. Before I could stop myself I blurted out (quite loudly), “Ya THINK??”

On the suggestion of a coworker I called another customer of ours who has a used car lot, deals with auctions, and whatnot. I explained the situation and why I wasn’t willing to replace an engine or transmission. I’ve had the Jeep for four or five years now, and it’s done me good. But I have a limit on how far I’ll go with repairs. Seems when I get the inkling to look for a different vehicle, something BREAKS!

Anyways, I explained to my customer I wasn’t in a position to be picky. What I want is the fifty-five thousand dollar Grand Cherokee that came out this year. What I need is reliable transportation…but I really don’t want to drive a small car (ask me sometime about Mom’s Focus and the teenager who stole her daddy’s car who slammed into us at Home Depot in Lincoln Park). So our customer tells me he’s got a line on a heck of a deal on a very clean car: 97 Grand Marquis. He’s on his way to the warehouse, he’ll let me drive his since it’s pretty much the same. He was very excited in that sales personey kind of way.

All I kept thinking was…you got it: Land Yacht.

The pictures I found online weren’t very encouraging. Everyone I know drives little cars, or cool SUV’s, nobody drives a land yacht (well, Leslie was the exception…I test drove her land yacht in Florida…but it was a collectible!). I mention this to my boss, who makes a remarkable comparison between the Grand Marquis and an old, white guy smoking cigars into retirement.

So when our customer shows up, I am nice and polite. I get my coat and we go out front. He opens the door for me and hands me the key, then moves a little button and the seat slides back (I have long legs…and again…love my legs!). I get in, he hops into the passenger seat.

Okay…so having my rump hugged by this leather seat was kind of…nice. Then I saw the hood of the car…the long, long hood of the car. How the heck am I ever going to park this thing? The customer is telling me all about the car, as I move the shifter down into reverse and back out of the parking space. I was just going to go for a romp around the parking lot. But for a second I had this horrible thought of not being able to turn the car. It’s freaking HUGE! Over two feet longer than the Grand Cherokee I drive, and almost a foot wider.

And those who remember my dumber drunk days are remembering the pretty Ford F150 and Traci backing into Jill’s mom’s car…and tearing the rear corner panel off Jenny’s car with my bumper…and taking out the fence at the condo complex.

Now, I’m driving a land yacht.

I did fine. Nobody died, I put it back where I found it.

It was a freaking GREAT ride!

Oh Em Gee Wally! It was totally awesome. Like riding a cloud. Riding a sled down butter. It was so cool! It sold itself.

So before the week is up, I’ll be the owner of my very own personal Land Yacht. I should probably put up fliers to warn the neighbors…

I admit, without reservation, I have no clue what God’s ultimate plans are for my life…let alone His plans for the lives of those around me. Those who have long been cemented deep within the recesses of the church would most likely say He desires a man/woman after His own heart, and pour forth all the scripture they can muster to support such a statement.

Thing is, I know those scriptures. They are underlined, circled, and boxed with different shades of ink; onion skin pages highlighted with various colors (yellow, pink, green, blue, orange). The margins of my Bible are filled with notes, as well as the spaces in between sentences; ink has blurred and bled through on many pages. I can give answers with much confidence about things in the Bible.

What I can’t give is an answer for why in the lives of those who love God…why things are such a mess. Foolish people say it’s a lack of faith, wavering trust in Him, a fledgling prayer life, not enough time in the Word. I say that is bunk…the Bible doesn’t say life is messy because we didn’t do enough. It simply says in the 64 books tucked between Genesis and Revelation life is messy, and that God is there to help us muddle our way through it.

I don’t get it. I don’t get how some Christians who love God have this amazing life and ministry, manage to wade their way through the orange barrels of life while others – who love God with all their being – get plowed over by a herd of steamrollers on what seems to be a daily basis. Can you answer that?

Really, I don’t want you to.

There was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came with them. God actually said to Satan, “Have you considered My servant Job? For there is no one like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, fearing God and turning away from evil.” It should be mentioned here, Job was the Donald Trump of the Old Testament. He had ten children. 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 oxen, 500 female donkeys, lots of servants (employees). The Bible says, “…and that man was the greatest of all the men of the east.” Because of this Satan challenged God by saying if He put His hand against Job, Job would curse God to His face.

To prove Job’s love for God was greater than whatever Satan could shell out, God allowed the carpet to be yanked right out from underneath him. In one day everything Job had was ripped from his hands: his wealth, his herd, his servants, and most painfully…his children. God’s Word was true, Job fell on his face and worshiped Him. The Bible says, “through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God.”

God pointed this out to Satan, repeated what He originally said about Job and added “And he still holds fast to his integrity, although you incited Me against him, to ruin him without cause.” Satan challenged God a second time, “Inflict him, then he’ll falter.” (I’m paraphrasing). What does God do? He allows Satan to come down hard on Job, this time it was so horrible he had to scrape boils off his body with a piece of pottery.

Job’s friends weren’t much help. They were, in my humble opinion, like the foolish ones I mentioned earlier.

A friend of mine is going through some messy stuff. It’s challenging. It’s affected her, her family and her health, and for me on the outside looking in it’s heartbreaking because I just know things…like how she loves God. In a lot of ways, her story reminds me of Job’s. I found myself thinking hard on that today. I think God looked at Satan and said, “Have you considered my daughter? For there is no one like her on the earth, a blameless and upright woman, fearing God and turning away from evil. And she still holds fast to her integrity.”

I suspect some days are really tough for her to see God in the midst of the circumstances, as I’m confident it was for Job. But I am hopeful God’s supremacy will shine through the messy stuff. The book of Job asks if you can discover the depths of God, discover the limits of the Almighty. It says they are as high as the heavens, deeper than Sheol. It’s measure is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea. In short, God is still more magnificent and bigger than all the messes life can throw.

And I hope my friend can take comfort in knowing God knows the way she takes; when He has tried her, she shall come forth as gold…and like Job…all will be restored.

The definition of aversion is: a strong feeling of dislike, opposition, repugnance (strong distaste or objection), or antipathy. 

Ed brought in his annual Christmas lunch for the employees where I work. A thank-you for  our business. I had to take a picture of him in his suit, and as you can see…he’s a relatively cool guy.

Soon after I snapped this spiffy photo, he loaded up those tables behind him with lasagna, fettuccine alfredo, fried chicken, salad, and baked goods.

The aroma wafting down the hallway to the door, which is located on the opposite side of my cube-wall, about sent me running out of the building. Well, actually, it did send me out of the building…I went to Wendy’s and got chili.

This has happened a couple of times since my surgery, both times caught me completely by surprise and sent me running. From the boards I frequent, I’m assuming this is what food aversion would be called. It affected my pallet…some things I used love I hate the taste of…some items the texture bugs me. It’s just totally weird.

When you think about it, it’s a great fail safe.

So if you see me looking like this, chances are I didn’t like what I smelled!

Have a great day!

All I have thought about over the past few days are friends of ours who are overseas, who have a front porch view of a nation about to teeter into war – and all they want – while practically everyone they know in the states has an overwhelmed, glassy-eyed, coma-like gaze over Christmas expenses – are two gas masks.

So while darling Darla begs you for that new thing all the other kids have (“you know I’ll absolutely die without it”) – on the other side of the world a man is pleading with a government official. He tells the official he understands he and his wife aren’t “citizens”, but please consider the government letter he has as he shows the official their passports.

They just want a couple of gas masks because they, too, desire to live. With what is stirring in the wind, war breaking out soon is a very, very real reality.

Before you go to your Christmas or birthday parties, or do your elephant trading, before you drop half your savings account on something that will most likely be collecting dust in three months, consider making a donation to the organization our friends belong to (click here for more information – you can earmark your donation: House Directors in Akko).

And if your finances simply do not permit a donation, please – I beg you – keep them in prayer, ask your friends to pray for them. Add them to your local church prayer list. They are an amazing couple and I wish I would have gotten to tell them that the last time I saw them.

Peace.

-Traci