Waisting Time

Recently my local paper ran a creative challenge that caught my attention:  write a six-word autobiography.  That’s right – sum up your life in just six measly words.  Little did I know what a phenomenon this concept was – six word stories, six word memoir websites, six words from people as famous as Hemingway.  Since I am usually quite verbose with my posts, I thought it might be a nice change of pace for you to have just a few words to read from me today.

Here are some of my favorite “six word life stories” from a variety of sources:

In retrospect, the lessons were obvious.

Determined to become a better person.

Weight won’t weigh my life down.

Well, I thought it was funny.

Birth, childhood, adolescence, adolescence, adolescence, adolescence.

Failed SAT. Lost scholarship. Invented rocket.

Wasted day. Wasted life. Dessert, please.

Thought I was right. I wasn’t.

I skip baths on the weekends.

I’m better before you know me.

Seeing both sides, I can’t decide.

Life’s funny secret:  some assembly required.

Runs from demons on stationary bike.

Living my life without looking behind.

Life is so simple, in retrospect.

In the end, what’s the point?

I look like a great cook.

Life is all about Plan B.

Have you heard about my grandkids?

Born.  Lived.  Loved.  Bored.  Wrote this.

Dream big -it doesn’t cost anything.

Nothing has happened in my life.

Common sense is not so common.

I wish I could count.

And from me:

Waiting Time is done wasting time.

Happily, gratefully living a boring life.

Bostonian becomes Kansan; Dorothy was right.

Want to play?  What six words would you use?

There’s a recent trend in the blogworld that has caught my attention:  several of my favorite bloggers are cutting back.  For some of them, that means following less blogs.  For others, commenting less often.  And for a few, it means posting less frequently or not at all.  And the trend is contagious.  Seems we are all looking for balance in our lives.

So after much internal debate, I have decided to post less often.  (There is where I imagine your collective exclamations of dismay.)  What I love most about blogging is being part of a community.  And as you all know, that takes a lot of time.  I want to be able to read your blogs at a more leisurely pace and still have time to comment frequently and thoughtfully. I want to continue with my practice of replying to most of the comments you so kindly leave for me here, because I really enjoy the sense of conversation.  And I want to do it all without sacrificing my own writing.  So it seems the solution is obvious – quality over quantity.  Ergo – less frequent posting.

I’ll be very honest with you – this makes me nervous.  I’m not sure why, but I suspect it’s because I am worried that my followers may stop following, my readers may stop reading, and my commenters may stop commenting.  Please don’t!  My glass half-full persona (who is still constantly struggling to win out over the pessimist), remembers reading that the opposite if often true: many bloggers actually find that posting less often means more people follow.  Maybe because subscribers are no longer overwhelmed with many posts in their reader or inbox.  Maybe you, like me, are struggling with time and balance, and you will actually welcome an occasional  break from my daily musings.  If I wasn’t so verbose, I could just say less, write shorter posts.  But that rarely seems to work for me.

I am not quite sure how this is going to play out.  I have to try it first to see how it feels.  To make things simpler for those of you who read but don’t subscribe, I think my smart approach would be to have a set publishing schedule.  Maybe initially that will be Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for example.  But I have to say, once again, that I am not 100% comfortable with either cutting back or choosing a schedule.  What if I have something great I want to say on a Tuesday?  What if I miss posting daily?  Why am I so darn indecisive and so easily stressed out by such inconsequential things?  (That last one is a rhetorical question as I sit hit with my finger hovering over the “publish” button.)  Well, it is a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, so if things don’t go as I envision, I’ll adjust and adapt and go from there.  (Hmm, sounds like great dieting advice for myself!)

Bottom-line, I have no idea when I will post next week.  I am going to be flexible.  (Which if you knew me you would realize is very, very out of character.)  And as I start playing around with my posting schedule, please feel free to tell me what you think of it; all feedback is always welcome.  So I am off and running and feeling the lighter load already:)

Note:  Now also seems like a perfect time to do some blog maintenance I have been putting off.  This includes upgrading Wordpress which could cause some of my blog’s bells and whistles to stop blowing.  Please, please let me know if you run into any problems with anything related to my blog.  Thank you:) My fingers are crossed that all goes smoothly.

The realization recently hit me that there is only one third of the year left.

Four months.  Seventeen weeks.  One-hundred twenty-two days.  (If you want hours and minutes you can do the math for yourself!)

I sit here on the first day of September filled with optimism and determination about what I can accomplish in the coming four months.  (Yes, I also sit here with regret, but I’m really, really working on the glass half-full thing today.)

If I were to divide my years into thirds, I would have to admit that the first third was my best for healthy living.  My eating was 100% on track and I had ramped up my exercise routine.  Even a broken bone and a few vacations couldn’t derail me.  The honeymoon phase was just that.  And I was going strong.

Then the second third of the year hit like a hurricane.  Or, since I am in the Midwest, like a tornado.  And my healthy living faltered.  My eating was suffering as I struggled to maneuver through an obstacle course of social events and temptation filled weekends away from home.  I was not doing well with moderation or balance.  And my exercise routine had yet to get back on track while I worked through physical therapy, trying to regain strength and mobility.  I vacillated between being in control and careening madly out of control.  I felt the roller-coaster sweeping me off my unwilling feet and starting to run away with me hanging on for dear life, hoping the safety strap would hold.

But now I look at the next four months as an opportunity to write the final chapter of my year.  To use a food analogy, my year has been like a much touted meal.  It began with a healthy appetizer that wet my taste-buds and left me anticipating what would follow.  But the entree course was unhealthy and unsatisfying, leaving me feeling stuffed and bloated and wishing I had ordered something else from the menu.  Now, ironically, I am moving on to dessert.  And anticipate a sweet ending.  Calorie free:)

The next four months would typically be, for most dieters, the most challenging.  Filled with candy and holidays, celebrations upon celebrations that have food as the common denominator.  I know that I have my work cut out for me.  But darn it  – the time has come to fish or cut bait!

To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure how I plan to accomplish great things for myself in the next four months.  But I will figure it out… soon.  Goal setting for me has had mixed results lately.  And my eating plan once worked wonders and seemed like something I could live with forever but clearly has not stood the test of time this summer.  My struggles with social eating and moderation will be sorely tested.  If I was a singer, this is when I would be belting out inspirational words with a high note at the end.  I have one third of my year yet to live; four months to make this be a year that ends on a high note.  Whether I am singing that note or living it.

So I’m going fishing.  What will you be doing with the next four months?

I belong to a book club.  A very small group of women who, once upon a time, had children in the same preschool class.  Today those same kids are high school seniors.  And many books later, the moms still meet to chat and vent and laugh and eat, and, as our husbands suspect, rarely talk about the book.

Our next get-together is at my house.  Which means I control the food:)  And since I am trying to be good with my eating, I need to find the right balance between a great offering and either healthy choices for myself or delectable choices that hold no appeal to me.  It also mean that I have a lot of cleaning to do!

I have long been aware that I am the least thin member of my book group.  Every one of the other ladies is trim and fit.  Some have been on diets in the past, but I never remember them being very large to begin with.  One gal is a runner and a vegetarian.  One has done Weight Watchers.  A third went on a healthy eating kick a few years back while training for her first 5K.  Another is an ice skater who teaches the sport to young kids and stays active that way.  The sixth belongs to the same gym as me, takes lots of cardio classes, and walks her dog every day.  When we get together, the gals eat.  Sometimes a little; sometimes a lot.  Sometimes they go for the junkiest of the junk; sometimes they only reach for the healthy options.  I have given up figuring it out and trying to predict what food will sit uneaten and which will get scarfed down.

For me, past gatherings have often been as much about the food as they have about the conversation, companionship, and book.  Sometimes I am eating healthy and almost dread going, worrying about the temptation and almost resenting having to sit for hours with a table of treats in front of me.  Sometimes I am not eating well and look forward to having something tasty to nibble.  One time I went in the throws of PMS, in eager anticipation of anything chocolate, only to be so disappointed there was none served that the hosted dug out some Halloween candy for me!  (What can I say, it was the hormones.)  Sometimes I go and partake of everything; sometimes I go and eat only the healthiest of offerings.

When I host, I like to have something for everyone.  The person who might want to eat healthy, the chocoholic looking for a fix, the one who missed dinner and needs something more filling.  And as someone who has not one gene in common with Martha Stewart, I always stress out a bit about what I am serving.  Not only are these gals thin, but they are very creative and talented hostesses.  Thank goodness they have other imperfections to make them likable.  (Just kidding.)

So after waffling and obsessing thinking about this all week, here is my menu compromise for tonight:

• Hummus with pita bread
• Tomatoes (from my neighbor’s garden), mozzarella, and basil with balsamic vinegar
• Veggies and dip
• Fruit
• Chocolate covered almonds (from my husband’s Costco stash)
• M&M cookies (frozen from the batch I made my son last week)

Now that I look at it, maybe I can cut something out.  I wanted to make it easy on myself.  No baking to tantalize my olfactory senses.  No complicated recipes that would test my culinary skill.  Hopefully minimal stress.  And very little temptation that might be leftover to entice me for days.  A few hours of fun and food then back to the normal routine.

Are you a consummate hostess or domestically challenged like me?  Have any great books to recommend?