Jogging is the devil

I HATE jogging. Hate.It. Don't do it very well at all. However, this morning I took out the scale and took a looksey. What do you know, I gained 1.5lbs. That's a big no no. So I'm sitting here trying to convince myself to go jogging. Can you tell I'm stalling? Could it be because I'm writing an entry instead of, I don't know, jogging? I'm sitting here fully dressed, ready to go, but my brain just cannot convince my mind to get it done! All I can think about is food, I'm so friggin hungry! Ugh. Ok, ok, ok, no more hesitating. Here goes nothing...

You're forever etched in my skin

I love tattoos. Since I was young I had a fascination with them. How could people love something so much that they are willing to seal it on their body forever? How could you get a tattoo of a big heart today and not be terribly sick of seeing it in 5 years?

That took me on a journey of looking at tattoo magazines, and the gazillion tattoo photo galleries that are online. It was then that I saw that not all tattoos were silly, but that some of them had very significant meanings to people, and some were just downright gorgeous! And that inspired me. It inspired me to get my own.

That was 9 years ago. Since that first tattoo (the cliche chinese characters (I know, I know) that say "moon child" something very special to me) I have gotten another just 4 years later (my guardian angel sitting on a crescent moon with my favorite bible verse underneath) and now, I'm looking to get my third. I was watching L.A. Ink when it dawned on me that hubby doesn't have a tattoo sooooooooo...why not get matching tattoos??? Last night I timidly asked him about it, as he is quite conservative, but to my surprise he said "ok, of what?" And now begins the journey to create a tattoo that represents the both of us. I'm so excited, and so happy he didn't hesitate on going on this journey with me.

Now I need ideas. What should the tattoo stem from? It can't be corney, or too big (it is his first afterall) and we've decided to have it in the same location on both of our bodies. Sweet! hmm, wish me luck. I'm off to do some brainstorming!

House wife reformed

Marriage is funny. Being a housewife is funnier.

I never planned to be a housewife. In fact, it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to be. I always thought that I would be able to carry my own, even in a marriage. That's what I wanted. Miss Independent down to the bone. However, after being laid off in November, and my temp job ending just two weeks ago, I found myself at home cooking, cleaning, and job hunting all day. I had no reason to leave the house except for a quick trip to the store to pick up a couple of items to help finish dinner off. In fact, one week I hadn't left the house in so long that my eyes started burning when I finally stepped out to go get a diet coke!

Anyway, I digress. The point of this entry is that...I lost myself. With having nowhere to go, I didn't find it necessary to get "dressed". Sure I would wear a t-shirt around the house, but everything else had gone south. Hair wrapped up in a scarf, aforementioned t-shirt on, dry face (no makeup what-so-ever, not even gloss!), and flip flops. That's what I wore on a daily. Then today I took a look at myself, and saw that I was pathetic! Is it possible that I am the same young lady who was all glamoured up just 6 weeks for my wedding? What happened to that girl?

I felt stuck already. A housewife for two weeks, and I feel stuck. Today I woke myself up and reassured myself that this is not my role. This is not what I'm going to do with my life for the rest of my life. This is just a momentary pit stop until God blesses me with my next gig. In the meantime, I couldn't and cannot let myself fall to pieces.

With that said, I got up, took a shower, and then sat down in front of my makeup kits. I decided I wanted a fun, soft, sweet, candy look, something that would really make J notice, without me looking like I was about to go out for a night on the town. Pinks are my friend. I found all of the pink eyeshadows that I had, pink blush, and pink gloss, and got to work. I was so friggin pink I chuckled to myself, I was having so much fun! Then I let my hair down, put on a down to earth, but cute shirt and some jeans, sprayed some vera wang perfume on my neck and wrists and folded clothes until the husband came home.

I was so happy I did. He kept saying how good I looked, and then, it was a wrap.

That was lesson number one early in this marriage for me. No letting myself go! I'm not saying I'm going to do this every day, but I'm aiming for atleast every other day. J appreciated it, and you know what? So did I! It seriously boosted my confidence, and reminded me who I am. Ain't nothin wrong with that :~)

~HG

Michael, Thank you for letting me rock with you

I will never forget where I was when I heard that the greatest entertainer ever had suddenly passed away. I was at the Excellence Playa Mujeres resort in Cancun, Mexico with my brand spanking new husband. We had just returned to our room from enjoying the morning in the ocean and pool when I said "welp, let me turn to the news. You know when you go on vacation, the whole world tends to fall apart without you knowing it". Little did I know a very big chunk of my childhood had crumbled. "Michael Jackson Dead at 50" was on the bottom of the cnn screen. "WTF? What do you mean Michael Jackson is dead?? This is a joke right? Where's the body? I want proof, hmph". I turned to other stations and heard about him falling into a coma, and prayed that that's what it really was. He was in a deep sleep, and there was major hope of him coming out. But as the minutes ticked by, every station kept saying those four letters everyone hates to hear - d e a d.

I cried. My husband didn't get it. He loved Michael Jackson too, and was sad, but not ready to shed tears. Well luv, maybe that's because your first concert wasn't Michael Jackson's when you were just 3 years old like mine was. Maybe you were glued to the tv when they showed the making of Thriller, absolutely petrified by that wolf thing he transformed into in the video, yet unable to turn away because you loved Michael so much. Maybe someone playing I Want to Rock With You didn't slap a giddy smile on your face like it did mine. And in later years, as the accusations rolled in, maybe your heart didn't cry for him and the peace he was never going to find.

As strange as it may sound, I never believed the accusations. I heard them, but I never really accepted them in my heart. Not because Michael was an icon, but because they never really seemed to fit. The parents of the kids always seemed really really really money hungry. Seriously, if someone were to molest my future child, I would want serious jail time and money for the counseling my child would have to get, not millions and millions and millions just because. After all, Michael was a big kid himself. I believe that as Michael got older, and further away from childhood, a part of him tried to hold on as best it could. So, he surrounded himself with children. They helped him to try to have that childhood he never had, as an adult. I desperately believe it was innocent. Michael was simply trying to savage a childhood that was taken from him before it even began. Don't get me wrong, sleeping in the bed with young children that were not his own was wrong in and of itself, but I in no way shape or form think that Michael's mind worked the way yours and mine does. I also believe that he was as stubborn as a mule and was determined to recreate his childhood whether or not it looked "right" to you and I. I don't know if the story of one of Michael's accusers coming forward and saying his allegations weren't true, that Michael never touched him, is a true story, but I hope it is. I would love for that piece of dirt to be wiped from Michael's name.

During the first week of his death, I cried for his soul. Did he know Jesus? Did he accept him? I pray. I prayed and prayed and prayed for God to have mercy on Michael's soul. Why be such an awesome humanitarian who suffered personally on Earth, only to suffer afterlife as well. What's the point? I wanted Michael to know that peace that it didn't seem like he ever got to know on Earth, in heaven. I rocked and cried and prayed, rocked and cried and prayed.

However today, today I cried for a whole 'nother reason. Michael Jackson, my Michael Jackson, the Michael of my childhood, is gone. He is truly gone. He will never again breathe the same air that I do. He won't get the chance to prove the media and the critics wrong. I'll never again get to see him perform Rock With You or Dirty Diana. We'll never see that smile again. He's gone.

Today I watched the memorial on cnn via facebook. I needed this tribute to realize this is for real, he's really gone. Like so many on facebook, I was waiting for someone to jump up and say this is a dream, or a really cruel joke, but it's not. As I watched it, I chuckled at myself remembering the time I tried to lean forward like he did in Smooth Criminal and almost broke my nose. If I couldn't do it, I knew it had to be a trick. "It's the shoes! The shoes I tell ya!" That's what I screamed at my mom. Last week she screamed it back at me as she saw on some news program that Michael owned the patent to those shoes with the springs in them. I also lifted an eyebrow remembering how when I got older, I wanted to be Dirty Diana because she was able to get so close to Michael, and he made a rockin song about her. Lucky chick.

All of those memories came flooding back as I watched cnn and I was just stuck. Maya Angelou's poem, the tears in Stevie Wonders voice, Al Sharpton setting them straight, John Mayer killing me softly with that guitar, and Usher breaking down all had me sniffling far more than I care to. However, Paris breaking down and talking about what a wonderful father he was did me in. This is real. This was someones father, brother, son, uncle, etc. It's very real, and very painful for the family I can imagine.

They did a great job. It was definitely a memorial fit for a king, and gave some of us a great sense of closure. I want nothing more right now than for Michael Jackson to be in heavenly peace.

Michael, we loved you, love you, and will always love you. You were the greatest entertainer that ever lived. Today you united all of us in the love we shared for you. Your greatness will never be matched. It's somberly funny that you were afraid that you would be forgotten. You will never be forgotten. You will live in our hearts forever, and we will show our children and our children's children who you were. No matter what, no one can take away your achievements, or the gifts that you gave to this world. Thank you for teaching us to look at the man/woman in the mirror, and to give give give. We love you Michael. May you rest in Heavenly peace.



~HG

No rest for the weary

The wedding shows lie to you. Brides lie to you. Don't be fooled. They make you think the whole wedding planning process is so fun, and you just have these little stressful moments, but it's nothing, just a little rain on your day. My issues are bigger than a rainy day (although the forecast calls for that too, but I'm talking to the almighty Jesus about that one).

Here it is, the eleventh hour, and I'm sitting here putting together programs. I don't think I've ever in life used a ruler/paper cutter/stapler as much as I have in the last 72 hours. So much to get done, and I'm only half-way there with how many days left??? Cleaning to prepare for family, looking under couch cushions for that all too elusive dollar, and basically just losing my mind. Thank God my day of coordinator is coming over tonight to help me put together programs, but I'm almost too anal to let her do that. It's horrible to be this possessive and anal! A perfectionist I am and what if everything isn't just right? I've worked way too hard for it to be!

Oh, and the worse part? Since I've started BC my darn aunt flo won't leave! I have cramps (not as bad as before the BC, but still!), I'm bloated, I'm irritable as hell (as if I needed help with that) and I would just like to blow everyone to bits! No, seriously...

And honestly? I'd like to smack the ish out of every bride I met before I was engaged. Dem bit... ahem...those females acted as if the wedding planning process was nothing but roses, and fun picking out patterns and decor, that their relationships were completely rock solid and they didn't argue with their fiances one bit during the process, except over the fact that he refuses to wear pink! Bull.ish.dang.it. While you're planning, your relationship doesn't stop, and stuff still comes up that makes you turn around and look at your fiance, imagining strangling their necks until their handsome little heads pop off...kind of like how I use to dismember barbie and ken...hmm....

Le sigh. Back to wedding work I go. I just stopped for a moment to have a little bytch fest because dangit! I deserve it!!

Man! I feel like a woman...

Two weeks ago today I did the scariest thing I have ever done in my life. I questioned myself about whether or not it should be done, I freaked out about, I prepared for it. Then, I just friggin did it. I took boudoir pics for my Future Hubby.

Before I took the pics I tried on my outfits. I looked at the rolls in my mid-section, and the dimples in my thighs. "Wait, are my inner thighs flapping around like flags?" Yeah, that was a creepy, disgusting, ugly thought. I couldn't find one angle I thought looked good enough for the photographer to get a full body shot. But then I thought, she's a professional, let's leave it up to her.

So all that day I was jumpy. My leg kept shaking, and I was bubbling with something that resembled excitement, although that's not quite the word for it. I went through my daily duties in high anticipation. Finally it was 5 and I could go home to start getting ready!

I started my makeup at home, then I finished once I got to the hotel. I walk into the hotel bathroom and I think bad.i.dea. This hotel's bathroom had to have THE worse lighting ever known to man. "Oh my friggin God my pictures are completely gonna look like crud. CRAPCRAPCRAP!!!" kept running through my head. Let's face it, with all these rolls I have, a pretty face is all I've got to save these pictures! But the professional in me kicked in and said "make it work", so I did. I worked my makeup the best way I could in that little dim bathroom. Then I sat in the lobby, and waited.

When 10pm hit, I went upstairs to the room, and met the sweetest little southern woman ever. I IMMEDIATELY felt at ease. I changed, put on a cd that began with Janet's Ropeburn and ended with Britney Spears If You Seek Amy, and it was on! We took atleast 300 shots in 2 outfits, and a few of just me in the sheets. I had such a rockstar moment! I was totally feeling myself! And when it was a wrap, I was in tears. I never felt so empowered in all my life. Never felt like such a woman. Never loved my curves as much as I did that night. It was me. Totally me in all of my thick goodness, and I'd embraced it more than I ever have before. This is me! And I love me. Finally, I love ALL of me. What a gift. What a gift boudoir photos, and Christi Austin gave to me. I've always had high self-esteem, but it's never been THAT high. I think if my self-esteem grew anymore I would float off this planet! I walked out of that hotel a brand new woman!

That Sunday, I wore a dress to church! Not a pants suit like always, but a dress! So unlike me! I'm now pressed to wear dresses for as many occassions as I can. I want to show off my hips and my thighs! Yeah! I'm feeling me! And then, I got the pictures back. O...M...G...! Gorgeous! I absolutely friggin LOVE THEM! I'm hella excited about giving J the book as a gift. He has no clue that that's what he is getting as a gift, so I'm so excited for him to pull it out the wedding night. Christi captured me in the best way possible. No, every picture wasn't perfect, but even the imperfect pictures were perfect!

So Christi Austin, if you ever read this, I say thank you. Thank you for helping me embrace MY beauty. Thank you for helping me embrace my curves. You helped me fall completely inlove with me, no room for error, and I needed that, especially before getting married! I LOVE you for it.

I'm sure Jonathan's gonna love you for it too ;~)

~HG

We shouted, they listened. Thank you Forever 21!

As I was clearing out my inbox the other day, I saw something that made me squeal with delight! The store that I have been eyeing for years, but couldn't fit a thing they carried, announced to the world that they were going to start carrying a plus-size line. That's right, Forever 21 now carries clothing for the everyday fluffy, thickety thick, chickedy chunk woman, such as myself. Woohoo!!!

On May 1st Forever 21 launched their Faith 21 line for plus size mavens. Although the line isn't as extensive as the Forever 21 line, it does carry enough for full-figured women to get their summer look going. I think I must have bought atleast 5 dresses over the weekend!

My favorite would have to be the Contrast Brushstroke Dress. It's a flowy (yet non-matronly!), silky 3/4 sleeve knit dress that boasts a brushstroke print and a waist tie. It's not stiff, too big, or too long. It's just sexy enough where you can show a little leg, and just flowy enough where everyone can tell you have a shape, but all of the bumpy (actually, I call them chunky) areas are concealed perfectly. I can't wait to wear this to dinner during my upcoming honeymoon.

So, to my thick sistas, it looks like we are finally making some real headway. The fashion industry is listening to us, finally hearing that plus-size doesn't mean anti-sexy. Now go get your sexy on and give your summer wardrobe the jumpstart it needs!

Faith 21
Available in select stores and online
Fashions range from $13.80 - $24.80