Wheels

I got to drive Ke$ha Barbie's truck today. I have to admit...it was fun! I usually drive a suburban so the size was not an issue to me, although this did feel a bit bigger. It is a copper-colored Ford F150 double-cab King Ranch edition (ironic,huh?) truck. I'm describing the truck to you so you can do your darndest to to stay far, far away from it...although Ke$ha Barbie has become a better driver than I thought she would. I like the truck. And for 3 hours on highways 35, 77, and 59, it was all mine. Along with the wonderful stereo system...all mine to control...my iPod connected so it was MY music. Me, the truck, the iPod and the road...

My father is rolling in his grave that I like the truck. He had a GM/Chevy dealership for years...we only had Chevy trucks and GMC trucks. No Fords, at least not that I can remember. My sister had a big dually truck for hauling her horse trailer (it scared me to drive it but she was a wiz at it)but I dont' think it was a Ford...but I could be wrong.

In high school I drove a most un-sexy Suburban. When other friends had cool trucks or cute little cars, I had a suburban. So did my friend M. She sometimes had to drive this ugly green one we called "the booger". At least we had plenty of room for our pompoms in our suburbans.

My suburban did not have a cool stereo system like Ke$ha Barbie has. I had an 8 track. With an AM radio...no FM. I could listen to KTSA (from San Antonio) or play the few 8 track cassettes that I had. AC/DC "Back in Black"...

My father was a lot of fun but was decidly un-cool about music. He liked Charlie Pride (ok, that wasn't so bad), Ray Price, Anne Murray, and Hank Williams. My step-mother had a fondness for Julio Iglesias (thank you, but I prefer Enrique) and Barbra Streisand. My father was so excited when he bought an 8 track carousel...so we could continually hear Julio, Ray, and Babs...

There is a particularly annoying version of "Jingle Bells" that Barbra sings...my sisters and I detested it (along with a really horrible Julio song). We literally could drive each other (and ourselves) nuts by singing it. One year for Christmas my sister, S, gifted N and I with copies of Barbra's Christmas albumn. I burned it. She still wins the "worst present/but it really was a great joke" competition...even after 13 years...

So I had my suburban and then N gets handed down a suburban. But hers had a cassette player in it...not an 8 track...I was NOT happy...Daddy told me to console myself because mine at least had the fancy wire wheels (Cadallac wire wheels---put on my suburban as a joke by a car-dealer friend of Daddy's). I got wheels. She got a cassette. I was not happy...

I haven't had "fancy" wheels on a car since. Once my friend, Glamazon (I call her that because she is very tall and extremely beautiful...I mean in a head-turning "who is that chick" sort of glamazon way), had special wheels put on her car. They were F-A-N-C-Y and very shiny. Her husband picked them out. I just went with her to the tire place for them to be put on. We looked at the wheels when it was done and she asked what I thought (I think she was a bit unsure herself)and I said "they are fine" and then she asked what I REALLY thought (because she knows me well) and I said "well, they would be great if your name was Huggy Bear" (like the pimp guy from "Starsky and Hutch"). She busted out laughing. She kept the wheels but told her hubby. He laughed...but I think he wasn't happy with me for about 5 minutes. I kept calling her Huggy Bear...

Glamazon once managed to back into my mother's car when it was parked in my driveway. She also did it to her hubby's car. That's ok...we both had a habit of hitting things when backing out. Her daughter drives a big truck too...

But Glamazon is not a bad driver. That title was owned by my friend V when we were in high school. She hit things in the high school parking lot. She once hit a fire truck. She accidently drove her pink BMW into a 7-11. I loved her pink BMW. Her dad would check the mileage so we would drive it backwards to roll the miles off (yes, it worked in that car). One time we were driving it backwards in front of the Bush's house (yes, THE Bushes). Secret Service stopped us. Barbara asked what we were doing (she was leaving the house). It wasn't until YEARS later that I figured out that the silver haired lady who asked us what we were doing was Barbara Bush, my hero...

V ended up having to drive a big dark green bomb of a car. The windows wouldn't completely close. A roach crawled in once. It crawled up her leg. She stopped and jumped out of her car to shake it out. I think she was at the intersection of Westheimer and maybe Voss. I think she stopped in the middle of the intersection. She was wearing a mexican dress and add-a-beads. She came to my house to tell me about the roach. I liked her dress and add-a-beads. I was probably wearing one too...because that was what you wore, you know?

I am not going to pick on V anymore because I think I did as much damage in my car as she ever did...it is just that her stories are more colorful.

Now my dad may have been uncool about music but he was cool with the cars. He liked cars. Hence owning the dealership. He did a lot of damage to cars. Like driving through pastures and setting them on fire (because he was in low cars). Or once taking my mother's powder blue Caddie and running it through a pasture and scraping the paint off the sides (thank goodness the dealership had a paint and repair shop).
He had a Tornado that he turned into a hunting car---it had no doors, no roof, and gun scabbards attached to the sides. He once painted it black and dressed as Batman (with my step-mom as Bat Girl) for a party. He came to school to pick us up in that car and get-up. I thought it was awesome. My sister N was mortified.

He had a Porsche that I wouldn't ride in with him because he drove it too fast (this from the woman who was driving 80 most of the way from Rockport today).

So Rockport was great...I got a great tan, my husband wasted bait (no fish), Ke$ha Barbie and her friends had fun (they are still there with my husband). I came back early for an evening of peace and got here early enough to hit the gym and use MY wheels to get going. I misbehaved this weekend...I ate Mexican food (and chips) and drank beer and wine, and I ate tiny (amazing) fried soft shell crabs. And some sweet potato fries. So I needed to spend some time at the gym.

Tomorrow is spin class....new bikes (new wheels!) but I think I have to get new cycle shoes because my clips aren't right for the new bikes. Now what girl doesn't like an excuse to buy new shoes...even if they are cycle shoes?

Inspiration song: "Wheels" by Foo Fighters (yessssss)...because it came on just as I went through a nasty bit of a storm between Hillje and Wharton on Hwy 59...and it kept me calm...

Go out and use your wheels to move...

Bye Darlings...

Where You Goin Now?

When Ke$ha Barbie (my daughter) was born I realized fully what true love was. I couldn't get over what an amazing miracle she was and how every little thing about her was...AMAZING. She was amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I marveled at everything she did. I loved watching her become more aware each day---although I think she was born fully aware as she came out, eyes wide open, looking at all of us in the delivery room and then she wailed to let us know she was HERE!!!

I didn't think I could love anything as much as I loved her until I had The Cutest Boy in the World (TCBITW) and then I realized that what my dad told me was true---you don't divide your love among your children, you multiply it. He would know---he had 9 children. That's a lot of multiplication (pun intended)...

So I have TCBITW and the same things amaze me...it's a new experience with every child...

Somewhere in your "new parent" brain you begin to want them to achieve milestones. We get so excited when they can finally sit up...then pull up...then walk while holding onto something...and then...they walk...and they keep going...

They grow...and they take on more milestones...going to school, riding a bike, bathing and dressing themselves (not necessarily in the order I have written these milestones...and I'm not sure that my son has totaly managed the dressing part).

And then comes the really scary stuff...teenage years...and

DRIVING

I remember several years ago when a friend called me and she was so excited because her son (a PERFECT child that I would happily take on as my own) had driven himself to the orthodontist. She was really excited that she didn't have to go to MHS to pick him up and deposit him at Mizell's office and then return him. He did it himself. He even called before leaving the office to see if it would be ok if he stopped at Whataburger to pick up lunch so he didn't have to suffer the cafeteria that day (she said yes...). I told her that I was happy for her but was terrified at the prospect of Ke$ha Barbie behind the wheel...and running loose all over town.

But the time came and Ke$ha Barbie is now 16 1/2 years old and she is driving.

She wanted a truck...a big truck. We were lucky that a friend of ours had been sent to work in Australia for a few years so he sold us his 5-year-old Ford F-150 double-cab copper colored truck. Folks, this is a BIG truck! With a great stereo system (since Daddy's Princess needs good music to listen to while driving).

My father had a Chevrolet/Olds/Buick dealership for years...we never owned a Ford truck...he is rolling in his grave...

The truck is huge...or at least if feels like it to me...but I am glad for all the metal around her.

I drove it once and had 2 friends in the truck with me...one of them sat in the backseat and looked for hidden bottles of---whatever---since he has almost the exact same truck and knows the hiding places (and he found NOTHING! except a plastic dinosaur...I have no idea why). My other friend sat in the front and played with the seat trying to get comfortable (since for some inexplicable reason teenagers pull the seats all the way up and then L-E-A-N them back). That guy drives a Honda...he complained he was losing brain cells from the altitude and "Bubbaness" of it all (which was a dig at the other guy since he drives...almost the same truck). It was like having 2 toddlers in the car...one of them messing with the seat and the other playing with all the stuff...thank goodness the ride wasn't a long one...I will not be driving them to San Antonio anytime soon...

But I like the truck...even if it is a Ford...

So now Ke$ha Barbie is mobile. She has wheels. And she gets around...

And I am always asking her: "where you goin now?"...

I liked it better when she was learning to walk...this driving stuff is killing me. Although I am glad I no longer have to deposit her in West U all the time...

She drives herself to work (she is a restaurant hostess). She drives herself to her friend's houses. We limit the night driving and I don't let her drive and park downtown. But other than that, she is pretty mobile.

She's going...going...and soon will be...GONE....all too soon...all too fast...

I don't "go" so much...I go to the gym and to the school and to the store. That's about it. I can make a tank of gas go pretty far since I seem to exist in a 5 mile radius from my house. My suburban is almost 7 years old...I'm not getting rid of it anytime soon because I don't put too many miles on it. Ke$ha Barbie be-bops about town like a bee visiting flowers...

So all of this got me thinking about "going" and where am I going with my committment to live healthier and get myself into shape.

I'm 1/3 of the way to my goal weight but it will take me a year to get to the finish line...I have a lot to lose.

I had an emotional set-back yesterday...I went shopping for shorts. That is not fun unless you are a size 6 or less. I'm not a 6...far from it. I tried on and found a pair of shorts but tried on some other things and just looked at myself in the mirror and all I saw was a big fat woman staring back at me. And I got depressed that I had let myself get so far and out of shape that THIS, what I was seeing in the mirror that moment, was actually in IMPROVEMENT of what I had been.

In my mind I am a tiny thing...all in-shape and looking great. But the mirror (and the scale) doesn't lie and I am not. My inner skinny chick is fighting to get out and be seen but she has a lot to get through before she appears to everyone else.

So it is really, really depressing to look in the mirror and be...disappointed...frustrated...unhappy with your reflection...sad...

And to have worked so hard but see so little difference.

Friends tell me I am looking great but I don't see it. I see my big fat self. I know they are being encouraging because they love me and want me to continue...but I don't look great. I just look a little better.

I came home sad and depressed.

I looked at the Oreos that my husband had (stupidly) bought. I'm not happy with him for that purchase. He has more weight to lose than me.

I did not eat the Oreos.

I did, however, pour myself a glass of wine. Less calories. No fat. Better for me. Red wine for my heart (that's what I told myself).

I realized that I had to look at where I was going...what was my path. Where was it taking me? Was I on the righ path?

Because right then, in that dressing room of the Fat Chick store, it sure didn't feel like it...and I was ready to go eat ice cream and chicken friend steak and Houston's french fries...

But I didn't.

I drank the wine.

I spent some time internally storming with myself.

Why did I let myself get so far gone?

I used to be attractive...or at least not UNATTRACTIVE...but right then I felt like a big old blob of ugly.

It's amazing that something like trying on a few clothes could set you back so far...

My thighs are huge. I have a big belly (like I'm 9 months pregnant). I have thick calves. My butt is enormous.

All I saw was...FAT...

I really wanted to give up.

But somewhere, with my judgement either clarified or clouded by the 4 ounces of wine (I measured), I thought....

Where are you going with this?

It's going to be a journey...a long journey...and even though I would really love instant results and a plastic surgeon who could just sculpt my body and get it over with quicker, I NEED the journey...

I need to go through this...

I need to work hard and appreciate how hard I am working to get to my goal...

I need to be grateful that God gave me a body that I can re-sculpt myself...and that I didn't end up with diabetes...that my body was going to bounce back...but I still might need a little nip and tuck to get it right at the end since I know that all the skin I grew to surround my little fat self isn't going to just disappear.

I hear tummy tucks really hurt...maybe that will keep me thin...

So I decided that as frustrated as I was with myself---and I had a lot of self-loathing last night---that I needed to stay on my path and keep going.

So I got up this morning and did my hour on the elliptical. And I had a training session with Fitness Goddess.

And I ate healthy again today...

And I going...down a very long road...

So when I was playing iPod roulette today "Where You Goin Now" by Damn Yankees came on. Now I do love me some late 80's/early 90's power rock ballads by "super bands" like Damn Yankees. Tommy Shaw (Styx), Jack Blades (Night Ranger) and Ted Nugent (I don't have to explain him, do I?) wrote a great song...and I love all the guitar and the vocals...

It's the chorus that I really love:

Where you going now?
when your world's turned inside out
isn't love what it's all about?
where you going now?
when you get to the top of the hill
gonna be there yes I will
So there you have it...I had a breakdown yesterday and Ted Nugent helped me get through...sort of...how trippy is that?

Because I'm on this journey and I have so many of you on it with me...and you are there for me when my world is turned inside out...because that IS what love is all about...

And you will be at the top of the hill...and I will too...

"Where You Goin Now"...Damn Yankees...

bye darlings...