2011, Time for You to Go

I've written this post about 12 times now, and each iteration is a completely different composition. I feel a drastic need to tie up some lose ends on the mess that turned out to be 2011. I use the term mess not in a negative sense, but instead a literal one. There was no organization, no real plan followed- merely a convergence of any number of events over which I had no control. And that's ok.

So, in an effort to better adapt for 2012, I am taking a page out of a company playbook. I am going to analyze the bottom line and prepare for the next year based on historical results. What that means to me is I am going into 2012 without any real plan. I have a few minor goals that I intend to reach, but any overall blueprint, I am abandoning. While this seems like a minor implication, this is a big deal to me, and I hope that a new approach to the year will help me temper the changes that I anticipate coming down the pipe in the new year.

There are several certainties that I am prepared for. 1- I am moving. Yes. This is the news of the hour. How can I be so certain? Well...mostly because I signed a notice of termination on my lease this morning, and have already set up living arrangements effective February 18th. So I think it's safe to say that this change is pretty definite. B- I am certain that I am uncertain. Clear as mud, right?

The unkown? Well, despite the fact that this is such a broad category and constantly evolving, I am willing to throw caution and planning to the wind and just chalk 2012 up to a year of growth and unknown. I have planned most of my life to a T (did anyone read the post about the importance of my calendar???). I usually have my days, weeks, and sometimes months planned to half hour intervals. I'm not promising that I can completely abandon the inherent planning that I need to survive, but instead I am blocking time for chaos. A week here and there where I will agree to not make any plans (does anyone have a paper bag that I can breath into- I think I'm starting to hyperventilate!!).

My goals for 2012 are strictly related to personal development and targeting issues that I have ignored for too many years. Starting with......I'm not sure anyone is ready for this open confession.....learning how to ride a bike. Yes, you read that correctly. I do not know how to ride a bike. And while this seems so miniscule and unimportant on a day to day basis, I am in a constant state of feeling left out by this life skill that has plagued me for years. Show of hands (or comments), who else does not know how to ride a bike? If I get even 5 confessions, I will be shocked. This is perhaps one of the darkest secrets that I have in my arsenal. And it's time to clean this skeleton out of my closet. So, any volunteers to help me learn? I turn to you, my dear friends and readers to help me make good on this goal for 2012.

Alright, here's the worst part...I have one other goal. I wish it were a prouder moment than the time I openly confessed on my blog that I don't know how to ride a bike, alas, it is also profoundly embarrasing. 2012 is also the year that I vow to finally, once and for all, learn how to.....I don't wanna say it.....

swim.

I know. I know. I know. This is pathetic. If it makes you feel any better, it's not like I would sink to the bottom of the pool if I were tossed in the deep end. It's just that I'm not sure that my arm flailing, leg kicking, head above water approach to staying affloat is really the way to float through life. What it really comes down to is that as a kid, my parents signed me up for swim classes- I went- and when I didn't feel like putting my face under water, no one really made me do it. So I just never learned. Kind of how I never learned to ride a bike. Once the training wheels came off, and I fell off the first time, no one ever made me get back. There was no powering through. And given my last year and half- I'm finally ready to power through. Time to ditch the training wheels. And if I scrape my knees up in the process, well then the scars will hopefully make for some fun stories to my grandchildren one day.

So now I turn to my favorite musician for some words of advice:

The best thing that I can give to you

Is for me to go,

Leave you alone,

Cuz you've got growing up to do.

                                                - Joshuan Radin

And while these lyrics have had very distinct meanings to me at different times in my life over the years, right now I recite them to myself. I am going to let go of myself for a year. Searching for my adventure, and attempting to learn along the way, a little more about who I am, who I want to be, and where I want to go. I ask you all to continue to read about me and who I am working to be, and help me to stay true to myself the best that I know how, help me keep good on my promises, and laugh with me when the occasion calls.

Now, as I wrap up my last post of 2011 and start to shift my thoughts towards 2012, I open the floor to you and your goals for the new year. If you can hold me accountable, then I hope to give you the same motivation which I seek. That's what we are all here for, right? Just people helpin' people.

Catch you in 2012. Happy New Year, y'all!

Sincerely,

Cindy L. Who.

It's Not the Size that Counts...

Oh please, get yo' minds out the gutters- this is a post about holiday presents!

It's funny, and I'm sure not a unique observation, but as I was wrapping "holiday" presents this evening, I found myself in a perpetual state of frustration. Partially because Mickey the Elf tried to eat half of what I was wrapping or rile up a good game of chase with my ball of ribbon or just flat out insert himself on top of my makeshift wrapping station, but mostly because I found that everything I was wrapping was so teeny tiny, that it was hard to wrap it. And I used to love wrapping presents, I always used to beg my mother to let me wrap all the presents, and would even get upset when she insisted on keeping the few designated for me all to herself to wrap. Don't worry, I always found her hiding spot.

But as I thought about the presents that I used to wait all year to be surrounded by for wrapping, they were big boxes. The inevitable sweaters that all of my brothers would get, or whatever set of glassware was deemed appropriate for my sisters-in-law, they were big boxes and I loved wrapping them and dressing them with bows and ribbons and name stickers, candy canes, bells, Snoopy stickers, bumper stickers, WHATEVER I could find...these fantastic beacons of gift giving were the best part. And then I got to thinking, I can't remember the last time that I wrapped a giant present, or received one. Howcome?

I think most of us (yes, even me, the half Jew) remember waking up on Christmas morning and running to see what was under the tree and darting immediately to the biggest, bestest box that couldn't even fit under the tree it was so huge. The box that could make me forget the monkey bread that mom got up early to make for Christmas morning, the one that little Ralphie just KNEW had his Red Rider Bee Bee gun. THE box. That was half the true Christmas prize. Regardless of what was actually inside, it just HAD to be cool. And bonus points if the box somehow managed to be bigger than the kid itself. But when I finished wrapping all of my presents and saw that the compilation of everything I purchased for everyone this holiday season would fit into one of the average size boxes under the trees of yore (the one that you knew had something lame like socks and school clothes), I had such a sense of let down. Really? This is what all of my hard earned cash got me? This tiny pile that's so small I can barely fit bows on them? You've got to be kidding me!

But as I thought about the convergence of getting older and the advanced technologies that many of us put on our holiday wish lists, it's now the small items that we tend to get more excited about. As girls get older, the smaller the box, the better. Because that most likely means that there's jewlery in there (Forgive the stereotype that had to be played upon here, but you get my drift). As boys get older, the smaller the box, the more technology that's jammed into some tiny shell. Atleast that's what I'm hoping Dad thinks when he gets his tiny wrapped box. But even my nieces and nephews that I have shopped for, everything is small- gift cards, video games, iPods. Most of the top gift lists reports this year contain iPad 2, iPhone 4, Kindle Fire, Nook, etc. I mean, I think even the box my Walkman came in back in the day was bigger than some of these. And I remember thinking I was hot stuff that it was bright yellow AND had AM/FM radio on it.

I guess all I meant to accomplish here was to remind everyone of the excitement of the giant box under the tree. It was a simple pleasure that I know I've lost. How easily we were impressed once upon a time. But this Christmas, so many are hoping for an iPhone with Siri that can look up our directions for us and give us our schedules so that we don't have to be bothered to do it ourselves. And they will be underwhelmed if their gifts do not have these capabilities. Maybe if we are lucky, the iPhone 5 will come with an app that will open our presents for us.

But I digress...Here's wishing you all a Merry, huge, giant box Christmas and an Happy all 8 lit candles Hannukah. May we all find joy in the simple pleasures of the holiday season.

Peace, Love, and Cookies

Ghosts

I've never been one to believe in the supernatural. Except for maybe up until the age of 10, but in my defense there were totally monsters living in my creepy closet. Halloween is a little scary for my taste, but more because of the gore associated with the horror movies than the actual threat of ghosts and goblins. Although, I do remember Devon Sawa as Casper made me and all the girls in the 12-16 demographic a little bit of a believer. (Who can possibly forget him and Christina Ricci floating at the Halloween party for their first dance? Sigh...)

I'm sorry, where was I? Oh yeah...ghosts. When I use the term ghosts, I don't mean in the scary haunting you from the beyond kind of ghost, I mean more in the sense of those things in our past that still haunt us. I had an experience this weekend that I have been thinking about in great detail (as I often do with many things). From my abnormal childhood to my awkward adolesence, I have always struggled with self confidence issues as many females in the US do. For this I am not special. However, in the last 5-10 years, I have made great strides in becoming comfortable with myself, who I am, and where I am.

But why is it that all it takes is one wrong glance from a catty sales clerk in the dressing room at the mall to make you regress to the overweight 14 year old tom boy with glasses and no sense of self? I couldn't believe the position that I found myself in that day. Here I was, an adult (for all intensive purposes) in a nice store, spending my own money, on a dress 4 sizes smaller than what I wore in high school, for a fun holiday party with friends and I had a moment of complete panic. This tall, perky, cute, probably 17 year old "mean girl" (a la Rachel McAdams as Regina George) managed to take that all away from me. And I was not sure who I was more upset with- her for doing it, or me for allowing it to happen. But for that moment in time, all the pressure and discomfort of my awkward, haunting teenage years came flooding back to me with frightening precision.

Tonight, I think about that run in at the mall and I can laugh at myself for being transported back to that awkward teenager who would have grabbed her mini backpack and run off to the nearest Journeys store, because that was always the safe haven in the mall. Any and all levels of weird were welcome there. That girl was my Ghost of Shopping Mall Past. How did she get to me? I am in the best shape of my life, financially independent, had just had a great weekend with great friends, and she managed to unravel it all, with one snide comment that was so unimportant I can't even recall it right now. This perplexes me. Of course, it wasn't until after I left the mall and was on my way home, still pondering the issue, that I realized what I SHOULD have done was marched back in there with the dress that I actually bought, and told her off Julia Roberts style, "Hey remember me? Big mistake, HUGE". I guess that really only works if Richard Gere is footing the bill though.

So how do we deal with our ghosts from the past? The girls that made our lives a living hell in high school, they are always out there- at work, on the tennis court, in the gym, at the mall...everywhere. We can't just shed the scars they left on us from years of torment and feelings of social inferiority. Or can we? Does the inner fat teenage girl ever really go away or do I even want her to?  I think I owe it to her not to cower in this situation, but to rise up and be proud of her for making me who I am today. I am not embarrased of her, and I want to apologize to awkward teenage Synthia for letting that moment of weakness creep in. We're better than that, we're stronger than that, she and I, our powers combined.

I'm not perfect in this situation either. I by no means am attempting to victimize myself here. I've been a mean girl in the past, it's a defense mechanism that awkward teenage Synthia developed to handle these situations. She also shows up from time to time, and I don't like her either. What worse can there be than being the mean girl that I myself can't stand? Another ghost that I would like to release and move on from.

The challenge is how do we let go and allow these phantoms to pass on to a world where they can no longer haunt us (just as Devon Sawa did after his dance with Christina Ricci, btw)? Perhaps it is the passing of time, perhaps I have more confidence to build, and perhaps they never really pass on. I do not know the answer, obviously.

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light. Ok, fine, I stole that last line from Mumford and Sons "Ghosts", not a perfect fit, but I'll live with it...mainly because the song deals with ghosts. Different types of ghosts, but ghosts none the less.

This Christmas, I'll have a Ghostbusters Proton Pack on my wish list. That outta do the trick!

10 Ways You Can Tell It's "Winter" in Atlanta

Now that we are about a week into December and the temperatures have started dropping, I've been making some rather amusing observations about how we Atlantans (Atlantinians? Atlantons? Atlantanese?) handle the change in climate. Please note that I use the term "winter" very loosely.

There are two distinct categories of people when it comes to cold weather in Atlanta- those who are originally from Atlanta and below, and those who are from the rest of the world.

So, without further delay- here are 10 signs that prove it's winter time in Atlanta:

#1: The news is reporting on the 3...3... sand trucks that the city of Atlanta purchased to be prepared for any possible storms this year. Really? That should probably cover the 5 million + of us that live here, sure.

#2: Last night at the gym, I heard the words "63 degrees" and "chance of snow flurries" in the same sentence. I'm no rocket surgeon...but...what? I almost fell off the treadmill when I heard this.

#3: The fact that people actually watched the above newscast has made it impossible for me to purchase either bread or milk at any local grocer. Apparently the idea of snow really works up a craving for milkshakes and sandwiches. Whatever, I was just passing by on my way to the liquor store anyway. Of course, if I'm snowed in for a few days, I'm sure that a sandwich wouldn't be a terrible idea to go with my vodka tonics. If only I could find some damn bread...

#4: It doesn't actually matter what the temperature is outside, everyone is bundled up in their heaviest winter gear. Seriously, most of us are already wearing the same thing at 50 degrees that we will be wearing for the week that we hit maybe 20 degrees. Below about 55, it's all kind of the same to us. (Also important to note: heaviest winter gear usually implies some form of a pea coat, scarf, and the occasional gloves...oh and lest we not forget ear muffs which somehow have already made a comeback this season...in 60 degree weather!!!).

#5: That group of people NOT from Atlanta, stops talking to the group of us that IS from Atlanta. They no longer ask how we are doing, because every response will have some form of "cold" in it and quite frankly, they frown upon us for it. I think they probably should.

#6: Everyone talks about ice skating. Because the rink is the coldest place we can go in this city to pretend it actually might be Winter like the rest of the world knows it. And we saw Snoopy do it in Charlie Brown Christmas, so it MUST be the thing to do when it's cold...right? None of us actually know how to, so we are all fighting for space along the wall to grab on and pull ourselves. But hey, atleast we're living the dream (and at half the price thanks to Groupon)!

#7: "It's too cold out" becomes a valid reason for cancelling plans that have nothing to do with even being outside. "Hey Suzy! Wanna go see a movie with me?" "No, I'm going to pass, the weather outside is frightful, and the fire I just built is just too delightful!" "Ok, you sure? Because they have heat inside the theater, ya know. Not to mention, you'll probably be fine with a light jacket, the sun's out and it's only 50 today." "No thanks, already curled in my Snuggie with my hot chocolate watching Elf."   

#8: Everyone is putting their small dogs in sweaters to keep them warm. This one, I'm kind of ok with to be honest.

#9: People will post on Facebook for WEEKS about how badly they wish for snow and then post about how much they hate snow on the 1 day a year that we actually get it. Make up your minds. I, for one, am just generally anti-snow. If you would all just subscribe to my school of thought, we can just eliminate this little conflict and I can go back to being annoyed by your regularly scheduled FB statuses.

And perhaps my FAVORITE of them all ....Drum Roll please.......

#10: Every. Single. Weather Advisory. Is compared to the infamous blizzard of March, 1993 - the "Storm of the Century", the "March Superstorm". As a native Atlantan, I remember this storm very well. I was a child and it was the first real snow that I had ever seen. Anyone who has lived in Atlanta knows about this infamous year and we can all recall this date at the drop of a hat. And if you aren't from here but you've lived here for atleast one winter, you know it too because we all talk about. All the time. I recall this event as a Winter Wonderland and was mesemerized by the beauty of all the white fluff. However, the reports that I have gone back to research for this, all document a total accumulation ranging from 4-6 inches. THAT, was our moment of glory.

So there you have it, folks. This is what we here in Atlanta have to look forward to for the next 3-4 months. There will of course be a break from it when we get our inevitable 1 week of 70 degree weather in January.

Hopefully those of you who do not or never have lived in Atlanta can still appreciate some of these. If you have any others that you can think of, would love to hear them!!