Striving for Perfection?

I like to recount stories about when I worked for a model photographer as a touch up artist... how I'd spend HOURS retouching photo after photo to make these beautiful models fit the mold of perfection. At first the photographer would walk me through each frame and tell me what he wanted to see. I got the idea pretty quickly and began to recognize what flaws needed to be covered, and what strengths needed to be strengthened, and I moved from photo to photo retouching -- EIGHT hours a day. Every photo. Everyday.

Being an artist and working for advertising agencies, magazines, photographers and learning what the ADVERTISER wants the public to see... I know what can be faked... ANYTHING!

Aisha Tyler, "I Don't Want to Be Perfect" [I]Glamour[/I] article:
Before: http://www.mahoganycafe.com/aisha/aisha29.jpg
After: http://www.mahoganycafe.com/aisha/aisha30.jpg

More examples here:
5 Resolutions: Retouching

By fasting, I'm not trying to meet the public view of perfection. I do it for spiritual reasons and to CLEANSE my body. The weightloss is a wonderful side effect and I do enjoy it, but as soon as I start eating, my body puts it back on until I reach my "set point" and I'm there until I fast again.

Yes, You Make It Hard To Love

Because I loved you so thoroughly - every ounce, every glow, every laugh and smile - with every ounce of my being.

Because I loved you so much - nothing else mattered.

Brandon, you were so beautiful and I still think of the times I held you in my arms and we'd nap in the sunlight. To feel you pressed against me, offering me your unconditional love, was pure heaven. I remember being in the moment -- 13 years old thinking, "I wish this moment could last forever."

But it didn't and no sooner than I could blink my eyes, you were gone.

Forever taken from this earthly world.

Because every day since you've been gone I've felt hollow.

I will never be the same... Because of you.

I love you.

Amazing Red Tulips

Dear Aunt Bonny,

Thank you for the amazing vibrant red tulips on such a timely occasion.

I took them home and have gotten compliments on them from guests.
It's a double-edged sword to explain their arrival and meaning.
I'm so happy to remember and talk about our dear Brandon and saddened to remember and share as well.

The tulips make me smile and think of you daily. They are simply beautiful.

You are so thoughtful. I love you,
Angelia

Fasting Day Three

OMGosh, last night was terrible! I had some lemon juice and chose to forgo the 8oz of water. BIG mistake. Nausea! Worse headache! Pounding headache! ...and, of course, throwing up foamy lemon bile gross yucky. That really topped the night off. *thanks*

Day three is going very well. Thoughts of food are gone!
I will have some juice WITH 8oz of water tonight.

Fasting Day Two

Assignment two: Fasting / Cleansing for 24 hours. I can't see doing it for "only" 24 hours and since I missed my January 1 fast by quite a few days, this will be my first fasting of the year.

Our instructor gave us a fast to follow which consisted of a ton of freshly juiced fruits... I prefer juicing lemons, maybe an apple, and a ton of water. It makes me think less of, "ok, what's next."

Yesterday wasn't too bad. I'm having headache related issues which I don't remember...

I didn't have any lemon juice this morning since I had to get up so early and juicing lemons would have meant getting up *even earlier.* PLUS I would have had to go to the neighbors' yard at 5:30 am to get some fresh lemons and one never knows what could happen while out fetching lemons from the neighbors' yard that early in the morning.

On the afternoon of day two I am missing the sensation of taste, but not food. Unless, food is taste... but I don't miss all of the chewing and swallowing and effort, nope, I don't miss it.

I am missing the sensation of flavors in my mouth and am thinking how nice it would be to roll a piece of flavored something around with my tongue.

Herbal tea - peppermint, minty mint, raspberry, lemon just aren't cutting my craving for taste. Though it is comforting to have something warm to hold.

In the big scheme of things this isn't so bad.

Well, except this dang headache.
I could certainly do without it.

Snail in my Path

I had just gotten out of two hours of yoga and it was around 9 pm.
My mom called as I was driving and feeling a bit loopy from class, I kept up a meager conversation. As I walked up the path to my front door, I saw this cool snail trailing from one edge of the sidewalk to the other.

I always carry my camera with me and snapped few shots.

Poor guy probably didn't know what to think of the flashing lights.

Steps to Forget My Cares and Accept Unconditional Love

My hand sits gently and lightly on top of his buttery soft noggin at the end of a brutal and ridiculously long day. He turns his delicate face to look at me... out of the corner of his penetrating eye. The beauty of his coloring is so striking it makes me think of a perfect cup of coffee with milk and sugar. His eyes so striking I lose myself to stolen moments gazing into them.

He elongates his already impossibly long neck exposing an area of vulnerability.

I smile with glee and my heart joyously skips a beat as I move my lips to his exposed neck.

I kiss.

and kiss.

and kiss. kiss. kiss.

kiss. kiss. kiss.

and kiss.

kisssssssssss.

Defeated by kisses he melts into my arms so I can cradle him against my body and remove the soft tiny hairs now covering my glossy lips. There’s no easy way to get dog hair out of sticky lip gloss.

He’s thinking, “There’s no easy way to get sticky lip gloss off my dog hair…”

Thank goodness this best friend of mine knows vulnerability, accepts my fragility and delights in letting me relieve the days’ stress on his tender little neck.

Step 1:


Step 2:

Put To The Test!

A refresher: I chose to give up stressing about situations that are beyond my control and, boy am I being put to the test this week! On top of "everything" else that happened in my life this week, (things could ALWAYS be MUCH worse!)...

Next week I'm giving up something EASY, like sugar.

My car had been parked on the first level of the Scottsdale Financial Center parking garage, a building managed by CB Richard Ellis: www.cbre.com . There are gates to the garage, but they are never closed... and on Saturday February 16, 2008 some vandals man-handled my little my 1989 VW Rabbit convertible that I affectionately call "Bunny." :(

The vandals smashed out every window in Bunny and stood on her hood to really smash in the front windshield. As I assessed the damage, I noted the tread of those shoes looks a bit familiar. If you'd like to see the shoes, go into your closet (or your son or daughters' closet) and pull out their well-worn highly pungent Vans. *tada*

They damaged my convertible top (lower left). See how a skateboard wheel would fit just perfectly through that hole? This is all speculation by SPD.

Don't ALL kids love Hawaiian Punch? Keep your eyes peeled for a bunch of hooligans with skateboards, size 9 Vans and deep red Hawaiian Punch mustaches - maybe a goatee too if they're as sloppy at drinking as they are at hiding evidence.

Officer Dielbert takes finger and shoe prints. :) Cool! They are serious about this stuff.

UPDATE!! :)

I was just on my way to use the restroom and upon opening the door was hit with a smell so vile it reminded me of an early 80s rest stop bathroom or public camping grounds toilet. *gag* What are these people eating???

As usual, I had waited too long to make my journey the restroom, but I knew I could hold it just a few minutes longer. Long enough to find a less odoriferous restroom. I decided to go to the second floor and use their facilities in a more pleasant smelling environment.

Another nice thing about the second floor, beside the less used restroom, is that there's a nice outdoor balcony that overlooks the... parking lot… but at least it's fresh air. Even more fresh now that the smokers have been banned to main the parking level!

As I opened the stairwell door (yes, I take the stairs!) Pam, the other lady whose car was vandalized on Saturday morning came bursting through the balcony doors. After making eye contact with me and registering me as "friend" she exclaimed, "They are here!"

"The Scottsdale Police Department?" I questioned…

"No!" she said, "the skate kids! I've already called SPD!"

Forgetting for the moment how urgently I had to use the facilities, I was off to the parking lot with Pam to see the terrible vandals of my little Bunny!

Pam and I determinedly pushed through both glass doors leading to the parking lot, looked to our left and saw one of the mean skater boy vandals and a nice SPD officer talking with him.

Well, something like that. No, actually, the skater boy was – adorable – and scared, and I felt sorry for him. He didn't make eye contact with any of us, shuffled his little skater shoes and held his board securely behind his back while slouching his little shoulders forward trying desperately to hide his cute freckled face beneath the brim of his knit cap.

"Where are the other three?" Pam demanded.

"Oh, I don't know them." He replied.

"I saw you texting them over by the ATM," Pam pushed.

"I don't know them," he replied again.

"Where are the other three?" the officer inquired.

"They went into the garage to skate on their long boards." Skater boy 1 replied.

So, Pam and I left the officer and when back by the stairwell doors to let him finish the interrogation without our hovering.

Upon the close of the conversation, the officer got back into his car and made his way down the ramp to the parking garage.

…and a few moments later, skater boy 2, 3 and 4 came bursting through the stairwell doors, clearly out of breath.

"HEY!" I shouted, startling them.

"Uhhh, hi," they apprehensively replied.

"A police officer is downstairs looking for you if you could please wait for him." I stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh! Looking for us?" they asked questioningly.

"Yes, you." I replied…

…and they went to the curb and sat down! Not only did they sit down, they began talking with Skater boy 1, the boy that didn't even know them! *weird*

Pam called the officer and he came up to finish questioning the skater boys.

I had to laugh when he said, "Striped hat. Yeah, you, come here." To the boy in the… striped hat.

All of them got up and the officer said firmly, "You. Sit. Back. Down." And they did.

I left the situation in Pam's capable hands and made my way back into the building, opened the stairwell doors to begin my three flight climb and realized… I still hadn't used the restroom!

Found Another :)

Sun day, Fun day, Car day

This Sunday my husband and I drove out to the Copperstate VW show in the West Valley. Like way west. Not just west of Scottsdale Road, but west of Central, and then west of I-17, and even further west - 107th Avenue. (West Siiiiiiide) ;)

My husband had lovingly restored this 1959 VW Oval Window bug for me. Striping it all the way down - a "pan-off" restoration. We went back and forth about what color the car should be and finally settled on what it had been originally born with, light coral red.

It was a great decision! A perfect color! The car was meticulously restored... all original... all stock.

It's a show stopper.

It's been featured in a magazine. She was the centerfold! (and so was I!) Although, she was the focus. *sigh*

My husband absolutely loves these car shows and spends hours walking, talking and living Volkswagens. Now, he can talk just about ANY car, but German cars are his forte.

Though, now he also owns an American classic, too. A 1962 Buick La Sabre.

Have I mentioned we have... EIGHT cars?! ...and a THREE car garage? Do the math. ;)


I was completely mesmerized by this cute little man in a bright blue jacket eating a chilly bright blue snow cone. His mom was lovingly scooping out tiny man bites for her precious child reminding him not to eat it too fast or he'd get brain freeze. I remember TRYING to get brain freeze when I was young simply because the thought of my brain - frozen - was just about the coolest thing I could think of to do.

Then, I watched Indiana Jones, " ," -- the one where they ate the frozen monkey brains... and I decided it wasn't so cool to get brain freeze. Well, that, and it hurts!

I digress. As I watched this cute little man being fed lovingly by his mother, I started to wonder what he worried about. What weighed heavy on his mind today? What flavor of snow cone to get?

Letting It Go -- is harder than it sounds

So. Whatever. Get over it (me). Let it go (me).

That was then, this is now.

However, I remember and learn from past experiences...

Who I go to first NEXT time will certainly be influenced through this experience.
After I talk it through with a great sounding board, I have a better idea of where to go - which diving board to take - high or low.

It's a look before you leap type of issue.

Instead of diving in and hitting the bottom of an empty pool,

crushing my skull against concrete with all my grey matter leaking out,

acting all surprised while I'm trying to stuff my brains back in wondering,

"How the F did that happen?"

I am not a seasoned instructor but I do have a brain.

I think, process data, and I will have comments.

I know right from wrong.

Safe from unsafe.

If I have something to say from now on, though...

Guess what -- it will stay in my brain.

Let It Go.

It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m supposed to give up something unhealthy - for a week. I’m thinking... What can I give up? So many things to choose from...

It’s unhealthy for me to:

• slather myself in toxic (great smelling) lotions
• wash my hair with toxic shampoo (again, great smelling)
• stress about situations that are beyond my control
• use artificial sweetener - every day
• not drink enough water

...I could go on and on. At least I’m discovering topics for the next round of “give something up for a week!”

I choose stress about situations that are beyond my control! I had an event happen on Monday, very stressful and a bit out of my control let I let it effect my mood and my life. Stress takes its toll making me anxious, depressed and not able to function fully. I present myself as the happy-go-lucky easy-going type so any fluctuation in my mood and people ask questions. What’s wrong?? *ugh*

Now, two days later, I have evidence of the stress presenting itself in a nice little package - right on my face - my upper lip to be exact. *swell, swelling, swollen* No matter how I like to sugar coat it, it is what it is. Anytime I run myself down I get this little reminder from my body to let go. Sunburn? Swollen lip. Depressed? Swollen lip. Stressed? Swollen lip. Not enough sleep? You got it, swollen lip! If I don’t catch it in time - at that first *tingle*, it becomes swollen and unsightly, looks like I got socked. Right now it simply looks like I have a little too much restilan filler on the left side of my cupid’s bow. UGH. ICE! ICE! ICE! It’s the natural killer for this. So, as I sit in my office holding an ice bag to my lip I get a barrage of questions from curious and *concerned* (i.e. snoopy) co-workers. Yes, I even got the restilan question. Let it go! (picture to come)So.
Day 1 of letting go of things beyond my control.

• Stop worrying.
• Stop holding it in.
• Stop being so sensitive.

Let’s go with, “like water off a duck’s back.”

...and now my husband isn’t being cooperitive. *sigh* No plans for lunch, no plans for dinner... Today is just a day. I agree - but, I’m

still a girl. *being sensitive* Now my feelers are hurt.

A vendor just delivered chocolate to my desk. That should help.

Valentine's Cards :)

ECHO... Echo... echo...

I had my heart echocardiogrammed last week on Wednesday.

It was pretty cool to see my heart jumping around inside my chest, listening to it whish-whish as it contracted and released.

So, today I went in to get the results and the doctor looked at the data, looked at me, back at the data, back at me and then asked,
"So, why are you here?"

I was there because my general practitioner thought she heard a murmur and wanted to make sure it wasn't MVP (not Most Valuable Player) Mitral Valve Prolapse... and because I'm adopted and my biological mother's side of the family had heart problems, but not until well into their late 80s.

Anyway. The doctor thought I was crazy and assured me that my heart was functioning "normal."

Excuse me? I'm more of an "excellent" type of functioner. I need that reassurance.
I asked him to take another look.

But. He wouldn't budge on his diagnosis.

Normal.

Ugh, as in average. *sigh*