The Post Where Dallas Talks About Her Sister
I have an older brother and a younger sister. My brother is 3.5 years older than me, and I am 3.5 years older than my sister. Being a middle child wasn’t really an issue for me as some middle children make it out to be. That is partially because my siblings are bat-shit crazy, and I was always in the role of oldest child.
I was always the mature, responsible child in my household. I was a quiet, straight A student who could often be found with my head buried in a book. I was, and still am, very different from my little sister. From physical appearance to demeanor, it’s hard to believe my sister and I share genetic material. Where you’d find me thoroughly engrossed in a book, you’d find my tone deaf sister “singing” Garth Brooks at the top of her lungs for everyone’s enjoyment. My sister is and always will be loud. She also has a very strong southern accent, which really makes no sense. Yes, we were raised in Alabama, but no one in my family has that accent. Remember the cartoon Dexter’s Lab how Dexter had a Russian accent but no one else in his family did? Yea, that was us. She was interesting to grow up with. Interesting, funny, and often times embarrassing to a once shy individual like me.
I was inspired to write this post listening to a Pandora radio station at work. ” We Are The Champions” by Queen came on and I couldn’t help but smile and think of my sister. When I was 11 and she was 7 my mother dropped us off in the playroom of a casino when she went to inside with my aunt. This playroom was huge and had all sorts of cool things do. My sister and I went our separate ways . I watched a movie in one of the mini movie dens,so I could’t hear anything going on outside of that room. When I finally came out of the movie, I hear my name being called over the intercom and walk over to the front desk. I get to the desk and a woman points to my sister who is at the karaoke machine and asks if I could help them. Apparently, my dearest sister was singing “We Are The Champions” at max volume . Repeatedly. For over an hour. She wouldn’t let anyone else sing. The employees in the center asked my sister if she’d like to do something else or if she could take turns so other kids could sing. When that failed,they turned the speakers off, and my darling sister continued to sing. Desperate, they began to look for me and I was in the one place where I couldn’t hear any of this.
I was so embarrassed. I walked over to my sister and asked her if she wants to get some silver dollar pancakes (her obsession at the time) for lunch. She drops the mic on the floor, grabs my hand, and says “Oooh, with blueberry syrup?”
“Yup, and blueberry syrup”.
The post where Dallas gets real.
I’ve said in previous posts that this is not a weight loss blog, more than anything it’s a random blog. However, my weight has been heavy on my mind lately, no pun intended. I have had a stressful past few months and I have finally come through to the other side of all the previous drama. Not to get all new age-y, but I am at a place of clarity and serenity. I’ve closed some doors on relationships that were not healthy and needed ending a long time ago. I’ve made peace with certain things that I can’t change and know that the energy I’ve put into those things, can be put forth elsewhere. On a professional front, I’ve started making the moves and doing the things that will put me where I want to be. Financially, here is where I am really proud, I have nearly paid off ALL of my debt. My car, all my credit cards and two student loans. Now that part is the good.
Let’s talk about the bad. All that inner peace and hippie stuff came at a price. While trying to zen out, I apparently pigged out. With absolutely no exaggeration, I gained 8lbs from June 2011- August 2011. I started seeing a new personal trainer and he had me fill out some basic health info and sign a release. On one of the forms it asks for your weight. I put down what I thought was my weight. Before we began the physical assessment, we did a body fat percentage test and took my weight. Talk about a wake up call. I muttered what I hoped was an inaudible “no fucking way”. Clearly this guys scale is wrong as I had just been in for a physical in May and was ten pounds lighter than what his scale read.
When I say this was a wake up call, I mean a serious wake up call. My grandmother died at 57 of congestive heart failure. My grandfather of cancer at 61. My aunt is currently suffering from a variety of ailments. My mother is a breast cancer survivor. So what does all of this mean to me? It is time to get my act together. With such a strong family predisposition to heart disease and cancer, I have to do all that I can live a healthier life. Not just for Dallas today, but for the future Dallas too.
Time to get to work!
25lbs ago!
25lbs ago circa 2008
History, part 1
My mother is amazing. She is graceful, beautiful, and intelligent. She is a fighter and she is a survivor. I have the utmost respect and love for mother who raised my sister, my brother, and myself on her own.
I, however, don’t want to be my mother. Yet near the dawn of my twenty-seventh birthday I find myself repeating some of the same life experiences as my mother. Note that I am calling them experiences and not mistakes. Experiences that I vowed would not happen to me.
For example, for many years I saw my mother unhappy with her job. There were well deserved promotions that went to other people. There were raises promised that never happened. There were office politics that she was tired of playing. I was a very intuitive child and always knew my mom wasn’t happy despite her smiling happy face. As the years passed things did get better. She was finally content with her job and in a good place. I decided fairly early on that I wanted a job career that makes me happy. Not one I’m just content with and pays the bills. I however, found myself in the same position several times over the past few years. Just working jobs, not towards my career. I was doing what was expected of me and not pursuing my passion. I understand that many people are struggling to find any job not what their passion is or what makes them happy.
At (almost ) 27, I have choices and opportunities that my mom did not have at my age. For one, I am not the sole provider for three young children. I live in Chicago, where the opportunities are more plentiful than those in Alabama. So for now, I’m making the moves to stop following in my dear mother’s footprints, and creating my own.
Turn that frown upside down!
I kind of hate when I’m waiting for the bus or train and someone tells me to smile. I wonder, now why would I do that? I’m often wary of people who are walking around smiling for no reason. Additionally, this makes me look downright silly as I am often having a bad day while on public transportation and the last thing I want is Freddy Fingernail-biter sitting across from me to think I’m flirting with my big cheesy grin. However, I do feel these people may be on to something. I do generally feel better when I smile. The term “fake it till you make it” had it’s origins somewhere, afterall.
2010 Where did you go ?
Here it is almost 2011 and I have not made one post in this blog this entire year. That is pretty impressive. In a sad way. I welcome my first foray into 2010 blog with a note to declare that this is not a dieting blog. It is not usually a dieting blog. However, today it is. I hopped my more rotund ass on the scale this morning and had to face the facts. I have gained about ten or so pounds since last year and about fifteen total since 2007, which I shall refer to as the sexy days. Ladies and gentlemen, we are NOT in the sexy days currently.
How did this happen, I wondered. Then I started to think about the many nights I ordered in Jimmy Johns, indulged in broasted chicken , ate chocolate brownie cookies for breakfast and a pizza for three days straight. Oh. Right. Now I know how it happened. Couple that in with an extreme lack of exercise other than the three fifteen minute walks my dog gets and there you have it: pudge!
This is no good. I have a plan of attack. I’m non-affectionately referring to it as the fat attack plan as of now, but I am sure that will change as I go along. I’m not doing anything crazy, just monitoring my food choices, eating out a hell of a lot less and getting more movement in. Slow and steady wins the weight loss race, no?
I am taking my waistline back and the sexy days will return in 2011. I plan on ushering in an age of super sexy. Move over, Justin Timberlake. Dallas is bringing sexy back.
And if not, well I do believe Tyra said it best-
Karate! Also known as Dallas spazing out
Ever feel like doing a karate chop and hopping around going “ka-ya” and saying “Karate CHHHHOOOOOP”?
No? You dont? Never? You’re weird. Today I wanna do that. Since I can’t pretend like I am breaking boards because I would hurt myself, I instead take out all this excess energy on my puppy. No…I dont kick him or punch him. I take him for a jog. Then I lay on the floor with him and pet his belly and throw his toys and wear him out. We have a good time. Then when we are all done he looks at me, licks my hand and tells me to “Ef off” while goes and passes out near the fire place.
After that I go around and karate kick the air and and do random punches…til some walks in and busts me!
Lessons Learned
With my new addition Kona, Ive learned a lot about myself. Kona is now thirteen weeks old and is a fur ball handful of joy and responsibilities. He’s easily added an entirely different layer of happiness to my life. He has little habits that I just gush over like a pathetic proud parent. For example he goes back and forth trying to figure out whose legs he wants to sleep between when we are sitting on the couch. He will make his choice, then twenty minutes later switch it up. His puppy nightmares usually involve him in full out running motions on his back. Ill stop now before you stop reading.
I have learned though, that if having a puppy requires this much work, then having a child has to be a million times harder and more expensive and is not exactly in my foreseeable future. Sorry, mom. I’ve also learned that the sun is out at 5 am as are a great deal of my elderly neighbors. Therefor I cant go out in my yellow froggie pajamas, bed hair and sleep in my eyes. I should also wipe the dried drool line too.
I’ve also seen a different side of my significant other. How loving and gentle he is with little Kona absolutely warms my cold dark heart. Im a lucky girl after all. Theyre my new lil’ family.
Transitions
I started a blog with the intentions of blogging. If you quickly glance through my blog, you will see that I am not a very consistent blogger. I have no excuse of being too busy or nothing to blog about. I am busy, but there is always time in my day where I am staring blankly at the hypnotizing glare of my macbook’s screen.
In my several months long absence there have been many changes to this crazy jumble of days I call a life. I moved yet again. I am the proud parent of what has to be the world’s most adorable puppy, Kona. I turned 25 and had a mini crisis in the wake of it. I’ve read ten books. Trust me I’m not bragging about that one, I usually read many more books than that.
Also during that time, I had to let some people go. People who at one point in my life meant so much to me, but I realized that as time went on some relationships are not worth it to try to maintain. Don’t get me wrong. I am not a quitter of friends and relationships, but when things get to a certain point with another person that it causes stress and hurt on either end, its best to step away from the situation. Perhaps, not permanently, but at least for a while. I will hesitantly admit that I had to grow up a lot to realize this.
I still have a lot of growing up to do in regards to some situations. I’m working on that. Change is not instantaneous and I realize with some of my vices I just need to be more cognizant of them and call myself out on things. August for me means transition. A transition to a better, kinder, healthier, happier Dallas. I have to realize and be grateful for the many blessings in my life. 
Yes, it is a banana in my pocket
Well, there was a banana in my pocket. I was running late for work today and did not have time to eat my morning banana. I shoved the banana in my pocket as I dashed for my car in hopes of making it to work on time. I started my car in the frigid one degree weather and while letting it warm up, I reached for my banana. Um… my banana was gone! While the missing banana bummed me out , it also made me smile a bit. I now knew why the guy I sprinted by on the sidewalk started laughing as I zoomed by. He’d more than likely witnessed a banana go flying from pocket.
That banana is an Acme fall waiting to happen now.
