Confession: I am my own worst enemy

•September 24, 2009 • 13 Comments

I decided to start a little bloggy series on here called Confession.  This is where I open my heart and just lay it all out on the table.

Confession: I am my own worst enemy.

I feel like a big fraud. My list is real, but most of the work that I’ve done towards the list happened months ago.  Lately I have just been depressed.  Even worse is that I know the things that usually spark my depression and I did nothing to stop it.

I’ve been completely fail at HAI #4, Get In Shape. You see, after the shocking ending of my relationship with the Uber Douche, I dropped weight pretty quickly. When I moved back from Hell to Philly, I still had  a hard time coping and the weight stayed off.  I was also exercising on a regular basis which helped. Two events happened which completely undermined my Get in Shape process: I got happier and I hurt my knee.

I got happier so my appetite came back with a vengeance (plus vendors bring us lunch all the time at my work, I have zero will power to resist cookies or brownies). As soon as I started my job in February, I found a local dance studio where I could take Adult dance lessons.  By April, I was taking dance classes a couple times a week – fulfilling yet another HAI – but it led to my knee giving out on me a couple times. I had to quit dancing, go through what seemed liked a zillion doctor appointments and finally physical therapy. During this time period, I became lazy, unmotivated, moody and ultimately a sloth.

Not quite what I meant by sloth

Not quite what I meant by sloth

I’ve gained 20 pounds since I’ve moved back to Pennsylvania and it has started yet another awful cycle of guilt, remorse, sadness, depression and finally eating my feelings.  I even joined a really posh gym, thinking it’s so expensive I’ll have to go…yeah, haven’t gone in months. FAIL (a really expensive FAIL at that).

My problem is laziness.  I have all the best intentions but when it comes down to it I am flat out lazy. My therapist cleared me to do low impact exercises and I have done squat. I am paying insane amounts of money for this gym and I’m not going.

This is going to change. I have to make it change. I am becoming miserable again and I refuse to let myself become a recluse (oddly that life style had suddenly become appealing in my spiral of depression). Luckily, a good friend Bekah decided to be my accountability partner (<–haha).  I promised to hit the gym twice before Sunday.  That girl is super driven and well, she’ll beat me up over gchat if I don’t go (and she knows where I live, she may just show up)

I signed up for Weight Watchers online today to help with the healthy eating and no more starving myself then binge eating. I’m going full out lifestyle change here.

I hold my future happiness in my hands. This is truly up to me and I want to see it through.

Oh, I will be posting about my trip… no worries. I promise some great recaps!


I get by with a little help from my friends

•September 3, 2009 • 14 Comments



This coming Sunday would have been the day that I became Mrs. Uber Douche.  All joking aside, I am still crushed over what I thought my life was going to be and I miss the man that I thought he was.  It has been an extremely rough couple of weeks leading up to this date, but like any good girl scout*, I planned a head.


Hey Seattle, I think I'm going to love you. (Shh, Don't tell Philly)

Hey Seattle, I think I'm going to love you. (Shh, Don't tell Philly)

Back in March, I had just moved from my parent’s house to my bestie Noodle’s parent’s house.  I had a terrible falling out with my parents in February and lucky for me, Noodle’s parents considered me like a daughter (Noodle will often say they liked me better, I do not argue) and offered me a place to stay until I could afford to move out.  One night, I approached Noodle about going on vacation with me during Labor Day weekend to avoid me being a complete train wreck, popping pills, and ruing the day that UD was born. I explained to her how I’d love to go somewhere different, someplace I hadn’t been and obviously fun. Since I was still obsessing over Twilight, the idea of visiting the Pacific Northwest popped into my head.


Forks, LaPush, Port Angeles... OH MY!

Forks, LaPush, Port Angeles... OH MY!

I know deep down in my heart, that I will love Seattle. Even before Twilight, I had always wanted to go, it just seems like my kind of city. Noodle and I decided to add the Olympic Peninsula and Vancouver to our trip, and Twi-Tour 09 was born. Although this trip sounds pretty amazing as is, something even better happened since early March…


I have made amazing friends through LTT. I speak to these girls almost everyday in some form or another. One of these special ladies, is Marta.

I hear they are filming some Tween movie here.

I hear they are filming some Tween movie here.


 Marta came to visit me back in June .  She flew down from Boston to Philly to hang out with me and another great lady I met through LTT, Janetrigs! She took a chance on our friendship and it worked out wonderfully. I knew she’d love to join Noodle and Me on Twi-Tour ’09. Then we convinced Freya (another LTT bestie) to join us on at least our Seattle portion of our vacation. I did my best to convince some others to go, but time/money/controlling husbands were got in the way. I’ll forgive them someday for not joining us. 😉




Twi-Tour ’09/Pacific Northwest Tour Itinerary

  • 9/4/09  – Arrive in Seattle, Washington
  • 9/7/09 – Leave for Forks, Washington
  • 9/9/09 – Ferry to Victoria, Canada
  • 9/9/09 – Ferry to Vancouver, Canada
  • 9/12/09 – Drive back to Seattle and fly home


In honor of all of my friends new and old that are helping me get through this year, I dedicate this song to you:




It appears that I am making progress on my list!


*I was never a girl scout. I tried Daisies for a week, but who knew 5-yr-olds could be mean bitches?

Yo Philly, I think I love you

•August 31, 2009 • 21 Comments

It was never my first choice of places to move, but the ex was jobless and was offered a great position.  Ten months later, I packed my bags and moved 1,000 miles away to the state where people go to die: Florida.  I generally get two reactions from people when I explain how I hated that ass backwards state. Its either, “how could you not love it, the weather, the pace, the beaches” or I get, “oh that place is hellish, the weather, the pace, the beaches!” Yes, the beaches were hellish, at least on the gulf side. The sun is always strong, the beaches have no breeze and the water is always as hot as it is outside. So you sit, baking, with no relief only to go into the gulf and realize you are still sweating. NASTY.

This East Coaster's HELL

This East Coaster's HELL

I never expected to experience culture shock moving within the United States. For goodness sake, I lived in France for six months while in college and I didn’t have as hard of a time adjusting! Lets just say it was very difficult for me to make friends, everything was too spread out, the pace of life was awfully slow and well, frankly, I was just too young to live in that state. I could go on and on about what I hated , but I’d like to focus more on the positive…. I got the HELL out.

As my so-called life deteriorated due to pure douchebaggery from the EX, it became apparently clear that I needed to move.  Part of me felt like a failure, for not being about to move on while still living in the state. As fate would have it lay-offs at my company forced my hand.  Luckily, I was still employed, but my small support group of friends got the axe.  My closest friend in Florida had to move across the state for financial reasons.  Fast forward six weeks, and two of my closest friends and one of my brothers (the List brother) flew down to help me move back to Philadelphia, the city I love.

I was born and raised in Philadelphia. Went away to school at Penn State, lived in France, moved back to Philly and lived in Manayunk, did my time in hell and back to Philly I went.  Now I had been thinking about moving to either Philly or DC (DC is an amazing city), but lucked out with a job in Center City Philadelphia.  I now know that I am an East Coast city girl through and through. I like the pace, the diversity of people,  being able to take public transportation, live our country’s history, eat in some of the country’s best restaurants, be close to other major cities like New York and DC.  I love Philly.  I really, truly do!

And since I feel like a girl in love…I’d like to share some amazing pictures of my city.

The Ben Franklin Parkway was designed to emulate the Champs-Élyées (I still remember my French accent keyboard shortcuts! kudos to me).

Aerial View of the Art Museum, Ben Franklin Parkway and the cityscape

Aerial View of the Art Museum, Ben Franklin Parkway and the cityscape

Credit: Photo by B. Krist for GPTMC – Source:

The beautiful Center City Philadelphia skyline from the Schuylkill (Pronounced Skoolkill) River.



Photo by B. Krist for GPTMC – Source:

Aww, the city loves me back! This is Love Park, you may have seen this as my Avatar from time to time.

Love Park!

Love Park!

Credit: Photo by J. Smith for GPTMC – Source:

Now that I have shared some amazing photos of Philadelphia with you and a little bit of my love for the city, I am happy to say this one is crossed off the list.

Florida, sorry that I hate you so, but don’t worry people are getting closer to death each year and making you their home.

Anyone else hatin’ on Florida? Do you love Philly too?

Endearingly Disorganized – The List has been updated

•August 29, 2009 • 24 Comments

While rummaging through the disaster area known as my bedroom (which clearly had a level F2 tornado hit it while I was sleeping), I discovered one of the original copies of the list. To my dismay, I discovered that I left two, very important happiness action items (HAI) from my posted list.

12. Get Organized

13. Volunteer

I am not blind to the irony of #12. Obviously, I am way behind on this HAI. Like anyone running behind on some to-do list, I have my excuses:


Someone please buy me this book, stat!

Someone please buy me this book, stat!

My father and I came to live at my step mom’s house when I was around 8-years-old. I was only allowed to bring a few toys and other possessions over from my old house since I had to share a room with my step sister for six months until the house was remodeled (basement turned into a bedroom for the step brother). When I finally got my own room and eagerly awaited the return of my most prized possessions, I was told that all of my things were thrown out. Some lame excuse was made about things getting moldy in a garage. Like any normal person, I took this experience and compensated with a healthy hoarding complex.  Combine my hoarding disorder with being extremely sentimental and you can start to imagine my current  room. The insanity of the step mom does not end there… (actually it doesn’t even end at this topic, but that’s for another day).

Any 8-yr-old's worst nightmare

Any 8-yr-old's worst nightmare

See the step mom was a control freak and extremely anal. It was expected that my room be spotless 24/7. Not only did she have abnormal expectations for an 8-yr-old girl, but she would make things even more challenging. Friggin porcelain unicorns everywhere. Little tiny figurines are not easy to dust!  I also had a daybed, which had a cream-colored coverlet and matching pillows. I had to make this bed everyday, so I had the sheets, the comforter, the coverlet, the matching pillows, then the six or seven throw pillows that were added as decoration. I was not allowed to actually sit on my bed.  If I wanted to sit on my bed, I was to remove the pillows, place to the side and fold back the coverlet to sit on the comforter below. INSANITY.

My step mom and my dad decided to buy me new furniture for my bedroom when I was about 9 or 10. This was another crazy mind-fuck game devised to set me up to fail. You see, along with this set, came a desk. I was supposed to work at this desk, but not allowed to write on it – not it, but on a paper on the desk.  I had to make sure that anything that I was doing, homework, coloring, drawing, etc, was done on the blotter. This was an insane amount of pressure to an elementary-aged child. Needless to say, I would always get caught NOT writing on the blotter.  I have a clear memory of signing a birthday card, leaning on my bureau , the step mom walking in and me getting reamed out.

Simple Desk Blotter Pad or Mind Game?

Simple Desk Blotter Pad or Mind Game?

I was a mostly ‘A’s student in school, did not get in trouble, did as I was told (for the most part), but I was often on punishment. Why? Cause I’d leave a books out or some item wasn’t put away properly, a stack of papers on my desk…didn’t matter. If anything was out of the proper place, I got in trouble.  As a very self-aware and somewhat intelligent youngin, I rebelled against her insanity and would leave out whatever asinine item I was being told to put away. Yup, grounded. A lot.

As soon as I went away to college, it was like 10 years of pent up rage exploded in the form of my level F2 tornado hit room. I hate being messy. I hate others seeing my mess and yet I cannot keep my room clean for more than two days. I have anxiety over my messy room and finally decided that I need to find a healthy balance between my childhood and how I am living now. Thus #12 was born.

I have officially put it out there for the universe and will do my best to fulfill this HAI.

The second HAI that I forgot is #13, volunteer.  Although I have had a tough life in many ways, I realize that I still have so many blessings.  I’d really like to be able to help others in some small way.  Let them know that there are people out there that care and they are not alone in the world. I have put some feelers out there on the volunteer front and will be sure to keep everyone posted.

Phew…Feeling like a huge weight has been lifted, now that everyone knows that I am a recovering slob.

Was I just being a snotty stepchild or was the step monster mom truly insane?

Hello world! My first Post…a month later

•July 17, 2009 • 31 Comments

I never thought I had anything witty or insightful to say or that people would want to know about the trials and tribulations in my life. After some ego boosting back in April on Twitter, I decided that I wanted to blog.  The entire process was overwhelming and I really had no idea where to start.

What would I call my blog?

What would be the tone or theme?

Which blogging site should I use?

Would this count for #11 on my list?

Endless questions…

I mulled over the different ideas. I knew that I wanted to do the blog, I just didn’t want it to seem like my personal journal.

One day, after perusing one of my favorite blogs, Letters To Twilight, I read a Twilosophy post about Bella having to make a choice between Edward and Jacob. Blog author at LTT, asked this question:

“So the whole thing got me thinking… what if she didn’t choose either of them? What if she decided to choose HERSELF?”

It hit me. That is exactly what I did. I chose myself back in October when I called off the wedding. I decided enough was enough and I deserved so much better. I needed to put myself first. I needed to choose myself and learn to actually like myself, maybe even love. I quickly went over to and picked the blog name: I Choose Me.

You may notice the date of this post is from 7/17, the day I signed up for this blog. Well, no excuses other than I was convinced that I needed to upload photos from my camera and I still cannot find that wire. So we may be photoless for a while, but I’m motivated to write and THAT makes me happy.

Feel free to leave love notes. Are you happy that I’m finally writing this blog?