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Scary Shit & Big Plans

I’m afraid to even say it.

It looks like things may be *starting* to fall together for me. After months of uncertainty and indecision and fear and disappointment (paired with absolute certainty and discovery and bravery and joy), it looks like I might be taking the first steps down a path that will lead to the next chapter of my life.

Could it be? Could it actually be that being kind and gentle with myself is reaping rewards? I’m afraid to even say it out loud, like some spiteful god will take everything away from my even daring to presume that I actually have worth and value and that I might actually deserve to be happy and fulfilled and challenged and respected by myself and others.

As hopeful and cautiously optimistic as I feel, I still won’t let myself fully believe that things are going to work out. “Wait it out,” I say–convinced that something will happen to ruin my plans. And maybe something will happen. Maybe these plans won’t work out.

But as I write that, I see that it doesn’t matter. Because even if these plans do fall through, new plans will appear to take their place. Of course things are changing for me, because I have changed. And of course I deserve to be happy and fulfilled in my life, because everyone does.

So that’s where I’m at right now. Vacillating between “can it be true?” and “of course it’s true,” waiting to see how the chips fall.

And while we’re (not really) on the topic, I did something brave last weekend. Remember how I talked about how PETRIFIED I was to audition for musicals–how I hadn’t had “traditional” musical theatre audition in 12 years? Well kids, I did it. I sang. In front of people. At an audition. And it didn’t kill me!

Scared!

I almost didn’t go through with it. I was fine all day–I was fine until I turned off the freeway at my exit. Then, all of a sudden, a wave of nausea came over me. My vision got splotchy, like it does when I’m about to pass out. I pulled over and sat on the side of the road, hazards blinking, breathing deep. I thought about how much I wanted to turn around and go home. But somehow…I knew that I wouldn’t. Because I realized that if I wanted to sing on stage–and I really want to sing on stage–I’d have to face a fucking audition eventually. And I knew that after twelve years of being too scared to ever audition I wasn’t magically going to get less freaked out about it. So I took a breath, pulled back into traffic and kept going.

And that’s when it hit me.

I’d already won.

This audition wasn’t about getting a part, or even getting a callback. That will come. This audition wasn’t even about nailing an audition, showing the people in the room everything I’m capable of doing. That will also come. My audition was a triumph before I even walked in the room. My audition was a triumph because I didn’t turn my car around and go home.

BRAVE

I wasn’t nervous after that. I had already succeeded. Plus, I had promised myself a fat, juicy burger when it was all over, so I knew that success or failure, my evening was only gonna get BETTER. I signed in. I walked in the room when it was my turn. I gave my notes to the accompanist–who was a friendly face, THANK GOD. I was totally thrown when the director said “Hello, Sarah,” because “Hi, my name is Sarah McGregor” was my first line and I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY AFTER HE SAID “SARAH”–but I managed to smile through my stammering idiocy. I took a breath (another success! I took a full breath!) introduced my song, and sang it. Was it the best I’ve ever sung? No way. But I sang the right notes and even managed to “live” in the song just the tiiiiiiiniest bit. Took a breath when the song was over before breaking my focus (another success!). Smiled, thanked them, and walked out.

Best of all, when I was driving home that night I had a thought I’d never even hoped I could have when it comes to singing auditions.

“That was fun,” I thought. ” I can’t wait for next time.”

Pleased. Or possibly slightly nuts.

And the I ate the f*ck out of that burger.

Tags: auditioning, Big Plans, bravery, falling together, juicy burger, self-love, success

Comments 5 Comments
Categories Arts, Goals, Life

NO Sugar NOvember: Fin.

2 Dec

Friends, yesterday was December 1 and therefore the END of NO Sugar NOvember. I celebrated by having an avocado and 4 double-stuff Oreos for breakfast.

Nope, not kidding.

Double-stuff or go home.

I actually had fun (yes, FUN) doing NO Sugar NOvember. I slept like an infant every night the entire month. I learned that cheese can offset a sugar craving (no joke), proving once again that cheese is magic. And I’m hoping that I broke myself of one of my unhealthiest habits–busting into the work candy dish whenever something annoys or stresses me at work. It’s full of candy I don’t like that much and I dig into it without thinking. It doesn’t give me nourishment (duh) or enjoyment. After the first two or three days of NO Sugar NOvember I forgot the damn thing was even there. I hope that sticks around.

And now I’m curious. What else can I give up for a month? Eating meat? Wearing makeup? SHOPPING? Yep, I’m so high on month-long “give it up” experiments that I was considering doing a month-long NO SHOPPING thing before I realized it was DECEMBER and that was the WORST TIME to give up shopping. Maybe next year I’ll get a personality transplant and make all my Christmas gifts (it IS on my goal list–making gifts, not the personality transplant part) but this year is not it. YES TO SHOPPING DECEMBER 2012.

Anyway.

THANK YOU to everyone who supported me and went along with.

Fun fact. As set in my initial rules for NO Sugar NOvember, I did not weigh myself before, during, or after NO Sugar NOvember. But judging by my the fit of my clothes, I did not gain or lose any weight during the month. Because diets don’t work. Thank goodness that was not the point. But I did feel better during and after my sugar-free month, and I hope I can hold on to some of the good stuff.

That’s all, kids! Have a lovely Sunday!

Tags: avocados, body issues, fun, NO Sugar NOvember, Oreos, self-love, shopping, sugar

Comments 1 Comment
Categories Fun, NO Sugar NOvember

A Defense of Vanity Pics (MySpace Style!)

29 Oct

We all love a good laugh at the expense of MySpace-era vanity pics. Dudes with their shirt off scowling into the mirror. Chicks in all their wide-eyed duck lipped glory. Always good for a chuckle and a pitying awwwwww.

But recently I’ve had a change of heart.

I was forced to go spelunking into the caverns of my old laptop in search of some academic writing I did years ago. I’d moved all the pictures I’d cared about when I got my bright shiny new laptop, and left the rest to rot on my old computer. Naturally, when I went looking for serious academic writing I got distracted by the old self-pics (I cared enough about my friends to transfer those photos) I’d taken in my early-to-mid twenties.

Yes, they were silly. Yes, I was srtuck by how lame it was that I was trying so hard to look sexy. But most of all, I was struck with HOW FREAKING HOT I WAS!

My mental picture of me at 22 isn’t very kind. I picture myself really uncomfortable in my own skin, with terrible blonde hair, too much makeup and awful clothes. In truth, I was pretty cute.

And it took a years-later second-look at some vanity pics that may or may not have ever seen the light of day to change my mind. Look!

Adorable, right? And I thought I was soooooo fat.

And here are some I took in my bathroom after going brunette.

Fun! Also, I got drunk on my 30th birthday and took these in the car home from the bar. It hit me that, at 30, I wanted pictures of EVERYTHING.

This one I even put on Facebook, proving once and for all that I HAVE NO SHAME!

And then, in an act of 3am drunken genius, I locked myself in the bathroom of the Ambassador a few weeks ago and took these. Because I’m 30 now, which means I don’t give a fuck!

The point, friends, is that you’re only 22 (or 25, or 27, or (gulp) 30) once. So document the fuck out of it. Who cares if it’s silly and self-involved? In a few years, you’ll be happy you took them. Enjoy your looks at every age. Make yourself look pretty and take some mother-effing pictures! Because it’s fun. And it’s funny. And you deserve photo-proof of your hotness.

So…..thanks MySpace! Sorry it didn’t work out between us!

Now go forth and get your Vanity (with a capital “V”) on!

But guys, no duck lips. Ever. Seriously. Ugh.

Tags: duck lips, mirror pics, myspace, self involvement, self-love, turning 30, vanity, vanity pics

Comments 2 Comments
Categories Beauty, Body Issues

NO sugar NOvember

28 Oct

As I’ve said before, I’m endeavoring to re-teach my body to eat from hunger after two decades of dieting abuse. It’s HARD! It’s hard to eat what I want when I want it. It’s harder to learn to stop when I’m done. And hardest of all is learning to do the whole she-bang without any sort of self-judgment, shame, or bad body thoughts. Near damn impossible, really. But the effort is so, so rewarding. I’m now in my third month of demand feeding and I feel more self-love and confidence than I’ve ever felt before. And with zero deprivation. And my weight, which I was terrified would spiral out of control as soon as I stopped shaming it into submission, has totally stabilized. It’s going really well.

So now seems to be a good time to throw a wrench in the whole plan.

See, I have a problem with sugar. That horrible refined sugar that I hear tell causes diseases and ruins lives. Cookies and candy and pie make me salivate with joy. But I think our relationship has run its course.

Sugar, you’ve been a reliable partner these thirty years. Always there when I thought I needed you. But I think we need to take a break. No, don’t cry! There are plenty of others who have a lot of love to give you in exchange for your mood-lifting teeth-rottening sweetness. You won’t even miss me!

So, I’m declaring next month to be NO Sugar NOvember. No candy, no cookies, no pies or cakes. No ice cream or soda. No sugar in my coffee or tea. And since I’m an old lady (30!) who is still trying to figure out the Twitter thing, I’ll be tweeting a NO sugar NOvember update every day of the month.

But it’s tricky, guys!!!

Because part of demand feeding is removing all “good” and “bad” judgements from your food and eating exactly what you want when you want it. How do I eliminate sugar–deprive myself of sugar–and still follow an eating plan that says you must not deprive yourself of anything? How do I make eliminating sugar a positive choice that doesn’t carry any “deprivation” baggage?

Well. In When Women Stop Hating Their Bodies, they touch on medical conditions/allergies that don’t allow people to eat whatever they want without consequences. It’s a more “advanced” demand feeding technique. After asking your body “is what I’m feeling stomach hunger?” and “what do I really want to eat?” you ask yourself “how will eating this make me feel?”

And that is the place that I’m coming from. How will eating this make me feel?

So. Here are the guidelines I’m adopting for NO Sugar NOvember:

I’m eliminating refined sugar (cookies, pastries, candy, sugar), but not all carbs. I will not be eliminating alcohol (Yes, I know it turns to sugar in your blood. But I’m not a big drinker and I’m a big candy-eater. So that’s what I’ll be focusing on).
The reason I am doing this is eating too much sugar makes me feel gross. Not” fat”, not “bad,” just unhealthy. It is not about losing weight. It is not about eating “right.” Only trying to better nourish myself. I’ll remind myself of this every day to avoid falling into Diet Mind.
I MUST TRY TO AVOID DIET MIND AT ALL COSTS! I’m cutting out sugar to feel better, not look better.
I will not weigh myself at all during NO Sugar NOvember.
If at any time NO sugar NOvember starts to undermine the progress I’ve made demand feeding, I’m calling it off and eating a cookie. My mental health is worth a lot to me.

It’s a tricky road, but I’ve got to give it a go. Eating sugar makes me feel heavy (not as in” fat”, but as it “weighed down”) in a way I hate. It makes me fatigued and cranky and gives me headaches. It makes me feel unhealthy. I’m excited at the prospect of being free from it.

So, friends, send me good thoughts and wish me luck! Follow me on Twitter (@phinamcgregs) to read my daily updates on my battle with the Demon Sugar! If you feel so inclined, join me on Thursday, November 1 for a month of Sugar Abstinence! Follow my journey on Twitter (@phinamcgregs). It’ll be nice to have buddies! Like these guys:

Tags: demand feeding, how will eating this make me feel, intuitive eating, NO Sugar NOvember, self-love, sugar, When Women Stop Hating Their Bodies

Comments 10 Comments
Categories Body Issues, Goals, Life, NO Sugar NOvember

Curly Hair: A Love Story

22 Oct

“Oh my God. Is that your natural curl?”

Yes. Yes it is.

When I was a kid, I didn’t give my hair much thought. It was tightly ringletted as a baby/toddler (boddler?) but grew long and blonde and wavy through my elementary years. It was gorgeous, but I could have given a crap. The only time I had any thoughts about my hair whatsoever were when I asked my mom if I could dye it black like Snow White (“No!”). Then, as I neared my twelfth birthday, puberty caused the curls to make their stubborn return.

By the time I hit Junior High, my hair was Public Enemy Numero Uno. I had the awful luck (for a curly-haired person) to enter Junior High, the most sensitive, fraught time of a person’s entire LIFE in the early-mid-90s, just at the pinnacle of Seattle Grunge. Baggy Jeans. Sweatshirts. Flannel. Flat hair. FLAT HAIR. FLAT. HAIR.

Here is what I wanted:

And here is an approximation of what I had.

Now I think it’s pretty. But it was my worst nightmare in 1995.

And oh Lord, I tried anything and everything that a terrified, clueless 12 year old could try to straighten and flatten my hair. I read in Seventeen Magazine that you could blow dry your hair straight, but that seemed ridiculous and I could never manage it (I figured it out some years later). I tried brushing it from the second I stepped out of the shower until it was dry. I tried tying it in a tight bun overnight, hoping to take some of the volume out. I tried every product I could get my hands on (useless, since the only products in the house were my Mom’s and she, as a straight-haired person, had “volumizing” everything). I cried and prayed to God to give me beautiful straight hair like the popular girls had (you know, on the days when I wasn’t busy bothering God with my prayers for big boobs).

Eventually, I gave up. Wrapped my hair in buns and tight ponytails for the next several years.

As I moved out of the nightmare-that-was-Junior-High and into high school, I started to figure it out. I learned how to use an iron to straighten my hair. I learned that I could also put GEL into my curly hair and actually wear it around places and not have people laugh at me. The next many years were a tangle (GET IT!) of straight-and-curly days–curly hair on the days I felt lazy, straight hair when I wanted to look pretty. Because, of course, curly hair was never attractive to me. It was only not offensive.

That’s me in the middle! Since this is a post about HAIR we will not be discussing my horrific makeup.

Then I moved to New York.

For my first year I embraced my curly hair. I was so busy and tired and poor that there wasn’t much else I could do. And for a while it worked out.

But eventually all the reality TV I watched and shitty magazines I read started to seep their way into my impressionable brain. Jessica Simpson was everywhere. I wanted–I needed–to be her. And so, I went from this:

To this.

I know. Barf.

And I won’t even get started on my clothes. Trashy low-cut jeans with huge white belts and pink everything and platform shoes and OHMYGODTHEMEMORIES!!!!!

They called me “Hot Mess McGregor.”

Or if they didn’t, they should have.

Some years went by, some shit went down. I ditched the Big Apple for the West Coast.

I saw The Devil Wears Prada in 2006 and adopted Anne Hathaway’s hair for the next 5 years.

Meow.

Get banged.

I painstakingly straightened it. Every day. For YEARS. It was such a huge pain. Such a huge huge huge huge pain. No spontaneous showers or swimming. Getting caught in the rain (with or without pina coladas) was enough to bring me to tears. A flat iron came with me EVERYWHERE I WENT. Mirror checking and “in case of emergency” hair ties and lots of fucking time.

And then I found a book.

This book.

The ways this book found its way into my life are strange and mysterious, much like a magic tome bestowed on a young ruffian by a wise wizard. With my magic handbook to guide me, I went on a quest.

To bring back my curls.

It took work, and time, and money to get my curls back into fighting shape. But once I started, I couldn’t stop. It wasn’t just about my curly hair. It was about a piece of me that had been lost. The piece that was wild and untamed and eye-catching and sometimes really difficult. It sounds silly. Maybe it is silly. But I started to feel more myself once I embraced my curly hair. I have not touched a flat iron in almost two years.

This is the part of the post where I should start moralizing about embracing who you are and loving yourself and not being artificial. But that would make me a huge hypocrite. Because although I now allow my hair to keep its natural texture, I still color it (my natural color is hideous). And I’m not exactly Nancy Natural in the rest of my life–I wax and shave and conceal and brighten. I wear makeup and high heels and push-up bras (although no shapewear because FUCK SHAPEWEAR). So I say Do what you want to do to look the way you want to look.

However. If you have a secret part of yourself that you’ve always felt a little bit bad about concealing, maybe its time to let it show. I always felt a little sorry that I was hiding my curls. It was like that week in high school when I wore colored contacts–I got tons of compliments on my beautiful green eyes and I felt somehow guilty about hiding my brown eyes. If it feels like you might want to explore not ironing your hair or not wearing makeup or not wearing high heels, I think you should give it a go. If straightening your hair and wearing makeup and wearing high heels makes you feel awesome, keep doing it. Choices are fun!

If you or someone who know is a closet curly thinking about giving the old ringlets a try, here are some resources to check out for hints and help:

The awesome curly-haired community at naturallycurly.com. This is the first place I go when I have a maintenance question or want opinions on a particular product. Lots of DIY haircare tips and recipes, too. Their articles are decent, but the best part of the site is CurlTalk, the message board forum. Check it out.
Lorraine Massey’s Curly Girl Handbook. Duh.
CurlMart is a great place to order products, but I’ve also had great success with Target and Sally Beauty.

Personally, I love the Shea Moisture line which is available at my friendly neighborhood Target. But products are a tricky thing for curly hair and there’s no denying the trail-and-error involved in finding your right routine. But if you need a place to start, the Shea Moisture Curl Enhancing Smoothie was my first dream product find. And I still use it today.

So take a moment today to love your hair. Whether you wear it in its natural texture or not, whether you keep it its natural color or not. Love your hair if it’s down to your waist Rapunzel-style. Love your hair if you have a close-cropped pixie. Love your beautiful head if you shave or buzz your hair of if you lost it due to illness or treatment. Love what you were given, and love how you choose to change it.