Confessions

Guys, I'm going to need you all to sit down for this one. I've got something important to tell you that I just discovered about myself and I thought it would be better if it came from me (before you heard it from a friend) and that I told you all at the same time - in this very private forum. If you need to come to me afterwards and ask questions, express concerns or offer well wishes, then my mailbox is always open.

Guys, it seems that I'm fat.

I know, I know, it came as a huge shock to me, too and I'm here to tell you it's all going to be ok. I've had some time to really research what that term "fat" means (thanks to Google and some quality time on WebMD) and I think I'm finally coming to terms with it. Telling you all is the next step on my journey to well-being.

I'll be honest with you, like you, when I first heard the news, I thought, "you're WRONG! My high school prom dress (along with many other clothing items) progressively shrunk over the years - that's what old clothes do - it has something to do with the fibers contracting (you'll have to forgive me I was never good with Textile Science and didn't understand that this couldn't possibly be the case; I mean, I was a liberal arts major). Are you saying I'm NOT still a size 7? Seriously, I thought I was still a size 7! The clothing industry is just doing something hinky with the numbering these days in order to make me believe (silly them) that I was wearing bigger clothes. Whatever!"

But I was on the elevator leaving work and a co-worker cleared everything up for me. Apparently, my weight had to do with bad food choices!!! WHOA! Talk about lightning bulb going off. And a great example of those bad food choices were the items I had purchased for Christmas gifts and was carrying out to the car (chocolate covered caramel popcorn) "Tell me more!" I thought to myself and fortunately didn't have to vocalize, because I was followed into the parking lot as great wisdom belched forth. Get this, according to this weight loss guru this popcorn contained something called "HFCS" (for those not in the know as I was before this great enlightenment, that's High Fructose Corn Syrup - but if you're hip to the health lingo, they shorten that down into a nice little acronym - seems like it would sound like "hefcus" to me, which isn't particularly clever, but how often are you going to get a big hit like RADAR or SCUBA?)

I gleaned all sorts of health tips as I took what seemed to be a mile long hike to the car, and between you and me, I swear that vindictive little car moved further and further away with each step. THANK GOD is all I have to say, because I would have surely missed the part of the speech that dealt with binge eating once a week to "trick" your body (along with several other important tips that I can't get into because they might be copyrighted or cause a nutritionist's head to implode - either way, I can't share).

All in all, it was a darn fine lecture and now that I know I'm this thing called "fat" thanks to the elevator intervention (that was a close one - I could have had a quadruple bypass while slurping down a 3 liter bottle of soda and never known), I can move forward and make the right choices (which might involve a few hand gestures, but they're all nice and non-provocative - probably hard to tell with my pudgy little hands anyway).

Thank you all for your support and understanding. I know you're probably all reeling from the news - let it settle in - it'll be ok.

211 Degrees of Oh Please: The Missing Degree

I'll be honest with you, I'm not very "woo woo" or "touchy feely" and I'm not an easy sell on force-fed self-help crap (it's the force-fed part I'm against). Sure, I can admit that I'm being a little unfair (maybe a lot) since it seems to work for the masses, but for me most of it reads like a few common sense statements wrapped in a lovely package and geared to make one over-the-top, highly motivated, type A personality a lot of money by preying on lost souls.

I've had the rare priviledge of seeing many of these gurus repeatedly as I sat through countless hours of pledge drives (and let me say these shows are trotted out to raise big bucks for PBS and they never fail to deliver). I've seen a LOT of self-help folks come and go - those with one lick of charisma always seem to stay around the longest. You've got your highly popular folks like Dr. Andrew Weil, Deepak Chopra and Suze Orman with her financial advice. All of whom happen to be gifted speakers. And then there are those other folks promising you can live forever whose names get lost in the sea of other self-help would-be giants. I've always looked at self-help as a buffet - you take a few bits that you like and then pass on the rest of the stuff that's mostly there for garnish. My plate looks like I've barely had time to really hit the salad bar.

Every now and again, I've been in jobs where they've latched onto the latest craze (that involve multiple days of brainwashing activities that keep you away from your desk)- like the time we were all about the FISH Philosophy:

Play

Make Their Day

Be There [for Coworkers] (Often referred to as "Be Present" This is more to do with giving your full attention to a task or individual.)

Choose Your Attitude

And we had to endure having "fish" themed posters, pens, post-its and what not around around the office to show we were all 100% behind this. We spent about 16 hours being indoctrinated and then a few months later, the push behind Fish! was let go from her position and the posters were torn down, the cheap fish pens lay at the bottom of a Glad bag and everyone went in search of something else to latch onto. Again, let me say that if Fish! works for you, that's great; it's not a bad philosphy. It's just not what motivates me.

In my years in the workforce I've had "The Vision", spent 8 hours learning not to say "Don't", found out I'm an INTJ, a blue/blue, a Hound (in Fox, Lion, Hound), learned about 212 Degrees (thank you, Brandi - I'll never be that extra degree) and also learned that under stressful situations I tend to bulldoze ahead instead of listening (which actually was the most enlightening thing I've learned). All of that equals a personality type that will sit in the back of a room and act like the most put-upon individual ever in the history of mankind.

Recently, I was invited to attend a function featuring a motivational speaker and I tried to be open-minded, realizing that as soon as I heard the "M" word, my brain immediately locked up. I went to the website, saw the stadium full of people seeming to be shouting wildly with their hands in the air, read testimonials and had to say "no". It was too "revival" for me and really, I'd rather be dragged across asphalt.

With all that said, I will make one small confession. John Bradshaw got to me once and together we discovered that my inner child and I really can't stand woo woo and that's ok. We blamed my social worker parents and their friends and then I hugged my inner child and told her things would be ok and we could just smile and watch from the sidelines.

DISCLAIMER: Social worker family and friends - I love you guys and I'm kidding. Well, I seriously do hate too much woo woo motivational stuff, but my inner child and I never talked about you guys... much. :)

Wal-Mart Frenzies

For years now, Wal-Mart and I have had a sort of love-hate relationship. I remember in the 80's when it was all the rage and I lived in my small town; it was the biggest (and only) store that seemed to be open on a Sunday - oh sure, there was Hastings, but Hastings didn't have the zillion choices I craved in a shopping experience. Where I was typically able to avoid cruising the Dairy Queen for entertainment, I couldn't always resist the siren call of Wal-Mart, especially when I had a small allowance, an overwhelming desire to be a consumer and absolutely had to have a pre-molded plastic something to get me through the next semester.

Back in Austin, Wal-Mart and I hardly ever saw each other as my shopping habits changed. But our time apart was short lived. After I got married we were reintroduced as part of a horrific holiday ritual with the new in-laws called "let's get Beth up at 4am to get to the Wal-Mart for day after Christmas shopping" YAY! A couple of years of being slammed around by overeager, feisty, grabby post-Christmas shoppers and Wal-Mart and I had to have a final break-up. No longer would I get smacked by a shopping cart to have Crayola Christmas lights snatched from my hands. (Ok, that actually never happened, but people were still pretty awful in their frenzy to get deals. I actually own the discounted Crayola lights - if anyone wants them - unopened - yours free.)

I can now count on one hand the number of times I walked through its doors in the last two years. Once for a lawnmower, another to purchase Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream by Ben & Jerry's (it was worth the parking lot hassle) and yesterday. (Well, there may have been another time, but I can't remember the reason for being there other than trying to burn a lot of time while waiting on someone and being too far away from home to just hang out there.)

The thing I absolutely hate about Wal-Mart is it induces in me some sort of shopping daze where I go in empty handed and leave with a basket full of things I'm not sure I remember actually buying. Things I didn't realize I wanted until they were sitting in my trunk.

Yesterday's purchases: camp chairs (ok, I planned on those for April's Thanksgiving in the park), Pyrex portable (it's got a lid for the dish and thermal lining! and I am supposed to bring something to Thanksgiving that's best served warmish - another planned purchase), and then I went into a small frenzy. I "needed" a cover for the splattery food within the microwave - sure, I didn't want one before, but it was only $1.99! Then, looking at this thing that looked like a lid, I realized I needed a pie carrier for all those pies I never make. I find one and it has these nifty inserts - one insert can convert the carrier into a deviled egg carrier (for all the deviled eggs I never make) and one will make it a cupcake holder (again... don't really make cupcakes), but I was absolutely fascinating by it and had to own it. I even eyed a new blender, a rice cooker and espresso machine (because I don't drink coffee, but I did imagine it would make a great present and people like espresso, right?) Thankfully, I managed to keep my hands at my side and not walk out with these as well. Overall, it could have been worse. We also hit the grocery store side, but didn't stay there long thanks to HEB holding a bigger sway over me.

When I checked-out, snatching a copy of People because it had Barack Obama's face on the cover (look, there wasn't a copy of Time or Newsweek there - it was that or OK! magazine and I was still in "consume" mode) I stood back in awe as I saw over the lanes that I could also bank there, get new glasses, get a manicure, have my taxes done, have a family portrait and do all of this while enjoying a Big Mac. I swear, it was like country come to town - boy howdy, it was a consumer's dream come true in one single shopping experience.

Now, if I want to have any money ever again, I need to make a vow to stay away from that place or I'll end up tithing to it without even being aware.