When I was in high school, my best friend and I became mildly obsessed with Cindy Crawford’s Shape Your Body video. The video was, to this day, probably one of the most difficult I have done. It nearly killed me just to do the thing all the way through. Plus, um… I was looking at a supermodel the entire time. A gorgeously perfectly perfect supermodel, who didn’t even break a sweat. Uplifting, is what it was. And it totally did not inspire any self-hatred in my overweight, scraggly-headed, stubby-legged self.

But the thing about the video is that it really paid off. If I could be disciplined enough to fight through the tears and frustration and do it for two weeks, my body shape literally started to change. The video got a bit easier. By a bit easier,  i mean a bit. Imagine trying to crack open a walnut with two fingers instead of one and you will imagine how much easier it got, even after two weeks.

But I clearly remember the best and most awesome part of the video. It’s the part where Seal’s “Crazy” starts playing. Holy crap, I just found it on YouTube.

Honestly. My goodness. When I watch this now, I wonder how I didn’t dislocate my pelvis trying to follow her form. Actually, I think I just dislocated my pelvis watching this.

The point!

The point is that, every time that song started, I thought, “OK. Now we jam.” Something about those lyrics, “we’re never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy” just made it work for me. I was fat. I was in high school. I was desperate. I was in terrible pain. Not emotional pain, physical pain inflicted on me by Cindy Crawford and her evil minion, Radu. And I WAS never gonna survive unless I got a little crazy. I was never gonna survive to see the end of the video.

But Seal always gave me that shove. Those lyrics spoke to me. I have always remembered that feeling – the crazy place. The place where I know I must, can, and will do whatever it takes to get out of whatever I am in. The place where I know anything is possible, if I will just get outside myself and get a little crazy.

I heard an acoustic version of Crazy on my drive home last night, and I realized I am there. I have been pulling out all the stops and really, really trying to get to a place where I can say that I have the life I want. I am taking risks and initiative at work and at play. I am fighting for my health and my sanity.

And, of course, I am still trying to get skinny. I know I will never look like Her Royal Cindyness, but, well… I am crazy enough to try to get close.

So, it has been an interesting week. Mr. Thor has been away. Oh, so away. He left Monday and will not return until next Monday night. I miss him terribly, but somehow I have been able to carry on.

I found something funny today when I was fishing around in my purse for gum, mints, or chapstick. I found a wad of tissues, a huge one-inch stack of them that had been rolled up into kind of a tube. After a second, it hit me: at the last minute, as we were walking out the door to drop Mr. Thor at the airport, I grabbed them. I was sure I would be weeping the entire one-hour commute to work.

As I dropped Mr. Thor at the airport, I was giving him the 30th hug  and dripping tears all over his jacket when I heard the Indigo Girls song, “Love of Our Lives” start coming over the airport speakers outside. I straightened up, said “i love you” and “i’ll miss you” again and watched Mr. Thor get swallowed by the automatic doors. Then I rolled my window down and kept my car parked right there in front of the airport until the song ended.

Then I started my car and drove to work.

This week has felt much like that: just doing what I need to do. Just putting one foot in front of the other. Just ignoring the shadows everywhere. Just packing my lunch, just getting ready, just going to work.

Only, today, when I found the tissues? I found something else. I found  a realization that I am stronger than I thought I was. I didn’t sob through a giant stack of tissues in an hour, or ever. I have actually kind of enjoyed this time. I have been productive. I have set up this blog. I have been writing.  I have been making myself dinner and packing myself lunch. I have had fun hanging out with myself.

This doesn’t necessarily that I want Mr. Thor to go away any time again soon, but it does mean that I don’t have to be so afraid of it next time.

Here’s to finding tissues!

After an entire day of showing off my wedding ring yesterday, I came home feeling happy and proud. I am a wife! I am happy and also, go-lucky!

I decided to come home and get right to work on my tasks for the next day – making a salad, making a sandwich, and otherwise getting my lunch ready.

Let me just state for the record that I hate big lettuce pieces. They always fold up on the way into my mouth and get salad dressing all over everything. Rather than eat my salad with a knife, I slice the lettuce into strips and then cut the strips in half. I love my lettuce like this, and it means salads are neat to eat.

Imagine, if you will, that your finger could have something you would call the upper right corner. This is where I got served my slice last night – on my ring finger. I cut off my fingernail and took a nice little slice out of my actual finger in that little upper right corner.

Today, if I show off my ring, it will look like I didn’t just get a new ring, I got a whole new finger… the finger of a ten-year-old boy. The nail is shorter than the shortest possible length, if you know what I mean. And let’s not get into the giant skin flap.

I never did claim to be graceful.