we write a thousand pages

Talk about something to agree with. (there's a link there)

I had my own issues with weight and self-esteem in high school, and I was also a late bloomer, as she describes in that post. As I read her words, I could picture myself - walking down the halls, eyes downward, wearing my mother's sweatshirts two sizes too big for me, unfashionable jeans and shoes, and sloppy hairstyle - usually a flat ponytail.

I didn't feel like I had a womanly body at all until probably three or so years ago. Now, with a weight gain of about fifteen to twenty pounds, I feel I'm now heavier than I'd prefer, but I'm more comfortable with myself than certainly was back then. I have to be careful though - I can't wear the tops I used to be able to, now that I have some, uhm, curves!

Even in the last two years my style has changed. I've got pictures from the months after we moved here, taken by my MIL, of me in junky t-shirts, a bandanna, and baggy jeans. No more - I'm now usually found in nice sweaters, lace tanks, gauchos or dark jeans, and things with a little more flair. Long gone are the badly fitting blue jeans, baggy khakis, and ugly tennis shoes. I'm considering a bonfire. ;)

I think Chad and I will go through our closet and dresser this weekend, decide what can go, and make a donation to the Salvation Army. I don't want to be reminded anymore of a depressing time period, and those things can benefit others.

In other news, I'd like to talk to Chadwick about taking a real vacation for our five year anniversary, three years from this summer. I had some ideas pop into mind today...



In other, other news - and more important news, my uncle contacted me yesterday. My mother's brother. We spent two hours on the phone, and now we're instant messenging. We have lots to catch up on, and it's nice to talk to a blood relative again, as strange as it feels. I haven't seen him in five years.

I don't know what to think about the family situation right now.

There's no conversation, words without remorse.
And this television drowns the only source.
Wake from these dreams of you in my arms.
Go to the staircase where you hold my heart.
This place, these walls mean everything to me. - Emery