Tag: life

Promises.

Daily writing prompt
What’s a promise you made to yourself that you’ve actually kept?
View all responses

I have probably made a million promises to myself that most I didn’t keep. But I’ll always have one that I kept because it’s something I needed for myself: be true to who I am && love myself.

Let’s start here for a moment: I went this past Saturday (the 18th) to the reunion of the high school class I attended school with. One comment stuck out to me the most. One of the guys I had no issues with growing up stopped, leaned against a chair && told me, “Barb. You really did come out of your shell since school.”

Came out of my shell.

That wasn’t easy for me. I let my personality, as I do believe I have stated, be defined by the people that has been in my life. Not so much just high school peers, but everyone. I have always been the “fat friend”, the “ugly friend”, the “friend that doesn’t care”. When you hit a certain age, you realize you can’t live your life like that.

I’m also not saying that I’m no longer the “fat, ugly, friend that doesn’t care”. What I’m saying is that I found myself along the way. I dropped friends, I moved on, and I had to come to terms with who I am && it’s all I can be. Sometimes, I wish more people could do that sooner in life. It wasn’t “soon” in my life, either && sometimes I’m sad about that. I lived a very long time believing what others said or thought.

It took an emotional breakdown.
Losing friends.
Having ex-boyfriends ask me why my friends didn’t like them.
Hearing statements like “if you were thinner, you’d be cute.”

The emotional breakdown – I was twenty. My brother had no idea what to do because when I broke – I broke. He ended up sending me to my grandfather’s house. For four months I lived in Amarillo, Texas and spent time with my grandfather *mom’s dad*, and my Aunt & Uncle *dad’s brother*. I ran to Amarillo a lot when I was younger. 15. 17. 20. I remember spending my 21st birthday with my grandfather (Papa Dad). I remember him buying me a birthday cake, it was yellow. Him && I spent the evening together watching television and having cake. That was probably one of my favorite birthday’s.

I walked away from many friends. Friends who weren’t doing anything for me mentally, emotionally, or helping my maturity level. It was hard and anyone that had to walk away from friendships understand, but for me to find me, love me, enjoy me – finally be the person I always wanted – I had to walk away.

Ex-boyfriends are exes for a reason. I can say that my last boyfriend was when I was 21 – after him, the two before, I realized that what I was searching for in a guy I wasn’t going to find. At least there, in that point in my life. So, I stopped. I just stopped. Of course, when someone asked, I always said what they expected, “guys don’t find me attractive and I’m happy just being the friend.” I had a guy tell me once, “it’s cute that you like me, but you’re not my type”. I wasn’t attracted to him – but for some reason, it never failed, if I was nice to a guy, they just assumed that I wanted them. I didn’t. && yes, I did have an ex-boyfriend ask me why my friends didn’t like him like that. I was single until I was twenty-six and I think it’s because the guy I wanted, that I felt a connection with, I had “met” when I was eighteen. I honestly think I secretly compared all the guys after that (which was all of my exes) to THAT guy.

He came back when I was twenty-six. We’re married now.

Just an FYI, moment. I have lost 150 pounds since November 2024 – I look exactly the same. So, if I were ugly then.. I’m still ugly.

But for me. I do agree that I came out of my shell. It’s because I found me. I found my personality. Do I still have days that are hard? Yes. I think I always will. However, my promise to myself to be a better me and be happy and love myself – I’ve kept that.

Even on the hardest of day.
Even on the days I start laughing so hard I end up crying.
Even the days where I’m alone, leaning on a wall watching people interact and looking straight through me.
Even the moments where I don’t understand what’s happening in my head.
Even the times where I lose my crap and scream at a co-worker and end up in trouble.
Even the hours where I just want to sit in bed in the dark listening to “I Love Lucy”.
Even the points in life where nothing makes me happy and I just exist.

In all of those moments – I will still always choose myself.

I know what I want out of life. && I’ll make a promise on top of my best promise – I promise that I will achieve what I want. Even if it takes me until I’m 96 – I will achieve my goals.

Memories

I didn’t graduate high school.

I should have been class of 2006 – I ended up being “class of 2024” after I did classes online through my local library. They paid for it as long as you finished; which I did. A lot of people, as they get older, try to figure out the one thing they regret would do over if they had the chance.

This was mine.

Sometimes I wish I would have been different in high school. I wish I would have cared more. I wish I would have had a personality. I wish I wouldn’t have let what people said or thought make me who I was. I feel my personality was shaped by other people and not myself. I wonder a lot if that’s why it took me so long to find >me<. If it was why I let people walk over me. Make decisions for me.

It has taken years to get over that hump. Sometimes, I fall back into that pattern && I hate myself for it.

What has me reminiscing about high school? 2026 should be my 20-year mark. People celebrate that. I was invited. I should be happy to know that people, who I should have graduated with, still remembers me. Still thinks of me as part of them – the whole circle. Do I think all of them will? Absolutely not. Am I going? Honestly, I don’t know. It’s on Saturday – tomorrow is Friday.

I made it to the second month of my junior year before I walked away. When asked I usually give the same answer – they wouldn’t let me have band. But I think there was so much more to it than that. When I enrolled for my junior year, I was late, so I ended up enrolling in the library with the school counselor and vice-principal. I had no issues there.

Two years prior, keep in mind, I had buried my mom – that took a toll. So, when I enrolled into my junior year, they said I would have to give up two electives, but it would keep me with my class && I’d be able to graduate with them. That’s all I wanted. I ended up having a sophomore and junior English class, and a sophomore and junior math class. No issues.

The only elective I wanted was high school marching band. I had been in band since I was in sixth grade, and it’s what I chose. This was the first push. The vice-principal said, “You can’t have high school band. You have to have been in band throughout school, you can’t just enter band.” That was a big moment for me – it’s the moment I realized I was insignificant. Our vice-principal was the type of person who knew all – everyone, and everything they were doing. She could pinpoint what people were going to choose before they chose it. But for me? She didn’t even realize I was in the band. Every Friday night football games, I was in the bleachers – she never noticed. No one ever noticed.

That was heartbreaking for a sixteen-year-old. Especially when you go to a small school (my graduating class had maybe thirty people) and no one noticed me. She went on to tell me if I just wanted a class with that teacher, he had another, music appreciation. That’s what I ended up with.

I didn’t want that.

The second push? I was in a class with a close friend. I always paid attention to the classes I took. Shockingly, I actually enjoyed school. But that day, it still replays in my mind, was the first time someone had told me, “Stop talking, I’m trying to pay attention.” It seems small. I was sixteen after all.

Number three. The last straw. The straw that made me not go back. I remember that morning very well in my mind. I got up in a good mood. I got dressed; I really tried to look nice. I wanted to turn over a new leaf. I wanted to be better. I got to school – no one noticed. I wasn’t noticed. I stood in front of my locker and just listened to everyone talk, and laugh, and hang out. No one had even said good morning to me.

I. Was. Insignificant. I wasn’t rememberable. No one saw me. Noticed me. I finished the day in silence. I went home. I never went back.

Sometimes I wish someone had cared enough to stop me. Tell me that they wanted me there. Wanted to see me. Wanted to help me finish school. Tell me that they’d do anything to make it happen. But I didn’t get that. I didn’t even have a moment where someone was mad, or sad, or annoyed – no one said “Hey! Why don’t you stick it out? We know today was a bad day but sticking it out would be good.” Because no one asked. No one saw. No one noticed.

I was personality-less.

I disappeared. We had moved out of town – no one saw me for years. I lived on the internet. I was trying to find someone, anywhere, to feel human. To know someone cared. I found it online with strangers. That trend lasted for many years. But that’s for a different day. Today is about teenager high school Barb.

I wish I had been different. I know I say that a lot. But it’s true. I did try a couple times to be/do different. I tried out for cheerleading – I had always wanted to be a cheerleader. I tried out for flag corp. It wasn’t cheerleading, but it was something. Both times I was told no – for the same reason. At least I’m consistent. They both said, “you don’t have enough school spirit.” I wish I had been happier.

I wonder if I had been happier, would high school have been different?
If I had not buried my mom was a freshman, would high school have been different?
If I had smiled more, or tried more, would high school have been different?
If high school had been different, would I have graduated?

When I started my junior year, I was excited. I was looking forward to the last two years of school. I wanted to go to prom, hang out with friends, have a skip day, go to homecoming. I wanted to stand in the hallway on the last day of high school and sign yearbooks and be sad that I was leaving. I wanted the moment where I had realized that I was now an adult and nothing would be the same. I wanted the days and months where I struggled to figure out what college I wanted to attend. I wanted to stress about leaving friends and schoolmates. I wanted to tell them all, “we will stay in touch” – even tho we all knew we wouldn’t.

But I didn’t get that. I took that away from myself. I let it slip away in a blink of an eye.

The question remains. Do I go on Saturday or flake on the couple I told that I would go?

First Ramblings.

Dear Readers,

Today was a good day.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning, which still upsets me knowing that I no longer can just sleep in. I blame working first shift at work. I went to the gym – which isn’t too surprising for a lot of people in the world – a lot do that. Me? I’m lazy, I don’t do that. This morning, I went. This will be the third Wednesday that I attended the gym, third week – I’ll be going back Friday – it’ll be leg day. *gross

I go to water aerobics. && of course, for my age, it seems strange. It’s a great exercise program for older women && sometimes men, not as many, but there are men. I like to exercise with older people – they don’t judge you for dumb reasons. It’s half the reason overweight people tend to stay away from the gym. Not because they truly don’t want to go, but because when they go the jokes and ridicule doesn’t end – it’s exhausting. So, they just don’t go. They attempt to exercise at home, you can use anything, remember? Water bottles, cans of vegetables, milk jugs, a couch. I don’t know if you have ever tried to exercise at home using a can of carrots, but it’s a little… what’s a nice word?

Sometimes, overweight people will attempt to go for a walk. Back road, parks, stores, malls. But then you face children. But you think, it’s just children. You want to know who is harder on people than gym nuts? Mhmm… children. I used to walk around town before I moved here. I guess we won’t say it was children, it was teenagers, because teenagers are cruel. They are cruel to each other, adults, animals. Not all teenagers, of course, I know a few that are fantastic. But maybe I’m projecting.

We spent 45 minutes in the water – upper body today. I really enjoyed it. But then again, if I could, I would turn into a mermaid and just live in the water – especially in the summer months. But alas, I’m human, && can’t just magically turn into a mermaid – this isn’t Disney Channel. So, I have to choose water aerobics. After which, since I drove myself, I spent 35 minutes on a bike elliptical – rode “four miles”. I say, “four miles”, because I honestly don’t know if that was four miles. But the machine said so.

It’s now a little before ten o’clock and I am just tired. After I got home, I wanted to play Fallout 4 on the Xbox, that was my plan. Have a snack, play a game. I don’t remember when, or for how long, but I’m pretty sure I was asleep in my chair. I ended up going to Wal-Mart just to get some oomph back into me. It didn’t work. I’m still just tired. The last few times of water aerobics I didn’t feel tired. But you know how you feel after being out in the sun all day in the pool then you come inside for that cold white bread bologna sammich with Doritos? THAT FEELING. I have had it all day. But… the pool at the gym… is inside && warm.

Maybe it was the elliptical bike?

I planned to just lay down and go to sleep. But I promised myself && a little to you guys, that I would write. More. Get back to that. So, I figured I would write before I go to sleep. I’m already halfway to the sleep cycle – I’m sitting in bed as I type this. Husband is beside me watching his phone ‘Return to Silent Hill’, apparently. I always tell him he can use the television and not watch his phone, but nope – phone it is. Me? I’m listening to the television, ‘Supermarket Sweep’. Did you ever watch ‘Supermarket Sweep’? I remember watching it when I was younger. I found it on my Roku television and I’m pretty sure I have watched the reruns with reruns surrounded by reruns.

They brought it back out a couple years ago. I read about David Ruprecht one night while watching this – Google is great! I read that he auditioned for the reboot that Leslie Jones got. I enjoyed Leslie Jones’ version – she’s great. It lasted one season; it doesn’t seem that they have any intentions of making it anymore. So, I started to wonder – if they had given it to David Ruprecht, would it still be running? David’s run was long and great!

I also read, to which I didn’t know, that David Ruprecht was in ‘True Blood’. I had to Google more into that, because what? To me he is just the host of a great game show. I didn’t realize that he was also an actor-actor. He was, by the way, in ‘True Blood’. He played a Reverend.

I suppose it’s bedtime. If only I had a canopy bed. >insert weird facial features< I never had a canopy bed. I had a day bed – but I’m about twenty percent sure the Husband would not appreciate a day bed.

It would be hilarious, tho.

Until next time… <3

I stopped…

I stopped writing.

Not because I didn’t want to. But because I can’t.

When I sit down to write my brain stops. Empties itself and everything is gone. Think of the episode of Spongebob when Squidward tells him to forget everything except fine dining and the inner-Spongebob’s throw everything away leaving only that. Spongebob forgets his name, his family, his everything – except for fine dining.

That’s what I have felt like lately when I attempt to write. Except, of course, I know nothing about fine dining.

Writing, even reading, has been a way to get my thoughts out and make life a little more bearable. I broke down at work yesterday. Last week I yelled at co-workers, not in a supervisory-yell-at-someome, but a full blown yell-when-I-know-better-but-I-did-and-upset-other-people.

I told the husband today maybe I need to go back to writing. Stop trying to “fix” myself when I know what helps. My manager asked me to go talk to a ‘therapist’. My job has a program that we can utilize for free where you can just go talk to someone. She wants me to really think about going to them – they are on property at work – I’d just have to walk up the stairs and into their office. I will think about it – which is what I told her – but I think first I will get back to writing.

This is me attempting that.
This is me coming back to the written word.
This is me trying to overcome the hurdle I keep tripping over.

I used to keep a blog on blogger.com where I would just sit and type. I would just talk. Think about a fourteen-year-old girl with her very first diary, which is hidden under the mattress of her canopy bed, hiding but in plain sight. No one would think to look there, right? She’d open it nightly and just scribble about her thoughts, her crushes, her dreams, her desires. That was me on blogger. When I switched to WordPress, because I liked the site more, I still did that but tended to move in other directions. I have been using it more for “what do I want out of life”. I know that answer deep inside, I don’t know why I keep asking it.

I need to get back to that.
I need to sit down once a day or possibly twice a day & just write.
Write out feelings.
Thoughts.
Crushes.
Dreams.
Desires.

It’s not even me being worried that I will be embarrassed by what I could possibly write or say. I won’t say no one, but not very many people read this. && if they do, honestly, in person – no one says anything to me about it.

I do have a great post to write soon! Remember how I went to see Jet Tila in Broken Bow, Oklahoma? Remember when I said next, we were going to see Maneet Chauhan? We did! I’ll have to upload pictures soon!

A little late…

I realized, while looking at and deleting drafts, I had started 2025 in review. However, I never finished it. But as I sat here staring at it I realized I didn’t actually do anything that important last year.

Except one thing.

Which of course I wanted to share.

On July 19, 2025, I married the love of my life in a small intimate ceremony that was decked out like Christmas.

Our first dance.
My shoes, bouquet, && our rings.

Fangirling.

Let’s talk about doing things that you’ve always wanted to do but never got the opportunity.

A couple months ago I was fiddling on Facebook, because that is what one does out of boredom, and came across a post in Broken Bow, Oklahoma about a popular food chef that was hosting a get together. I couldn’t help myself && went straight to the husband. I showed him the post, there, staring back at us was a large article about Jet Tila.

Jet. Freaking. Tila.

For my non-foodie-tv-show-watchers, Jet Tila is a popular TV chef that has a cult following. He may actually not have a cult following, but honestly, it feels like he does. I am one of said cult-followers. #teamjettila

I’m not even sure when I started liking him but one day I found myself watching any && everything that has to do with him. I’m sure everyone has some famous person they like like that.

Needless to say, I bought those tickets. We took a small vacation to Broken Bow – which now I understand why people like it there so much, it’s gorgeous. We left Wednesday and came back Saturday.

This is one of those posts I began writing weeks ago && figured it was time to finish it. Let’s talk through photos.

Me, Jet Tila, && The Husband.
Jet Tila && Me.
The Husband && Jet Tila.
The beautiful Table.
The Table.
First course: Prawn “Crying Tiger” salad with a chili crisp dressing.
Second Course: Lemongrass coconut chicken soup shimeji mushrooms, chili crisp oil. *Our Favorite Dish*
Main Course: Beef filet, black garlic demi-glace Japanese purple potatoes bok choy – paired with Terrazas Reserva, Malbec & Argentina
Dessert: Ali’s (his wife) Butterscotch Budino
Can you see how much we drink?
Jet signing cookbooks for us.
His signature.
His cookbook!

Stand by for the next installment of traveling for chefs. In June, we will be going to see Maneet Chauhan.

Breakfast

Cannot afford to do much of anything.

Life as a poor person. It’s okay, tho.

Decided just to cook and share creations.

Ham and mushroom omelette.
❤️
Mushroom && ham.

I wrote tonight.

I don’t know.

It’s not a secret. It’s never been a secret. I have two loves. Inanimate loves. We all know what they are. I haven’t spoken about anything else since I started this.

I still pay for this blog. I don’t write as much as I wish. I don’t write daily. Weekly. Monthly. I think about it. I will start a blog. Then save the draft. Then a year later, delete the draft. I probably have three or so right now. That have yet to be deleted.

The point?

Everyone knows I wrote a book. Frost. Took way too many years to write. Still not finished. I need it edited. I think it’s crap.

You know, Stephen King thought Carrie was crap. Even threw it away. Straight into the trash. His wife dug it out. Told him to publish it. But he had tried, multiple times, to publish short stories. I don’t know, maybe around that time he had.

I’ve never been published.

I did a thing once. Last year. Wrote poetry for a company that said they’d publish the poems into a book. Yes. Even I can be retarded. It’s been a year. Almost. Nothing. It’s okay, tho.

I wrote chapter one to my second book. The follow up to Frost. I plan to call it Frosted, if I ever write the whole book. Tonight tho, I wrote chapter one. It’s in a notebook. Will I keep it as is? I don’t know.

I don’t know where I’m going with the second book. I just know I left book one open. Could I never write another one and be on my way? Probably. No one has read it. No one really cares that I wrote it.

Except me.

I want to publish it. For myself, I think. Do I think I’ll make a million dollars and be able to write full time? Absolutely not.

If I publish Frost, it will be for me. Only me. Something that I did for myself.

But first, I have to have someone edit it.

I guess I lied. Someone has read it. Someone that said they’d edit it. Someone that is busy with their own life. Someone who can’t drop everything and do something like that for free. I get it. I won’t even say that I’m on the back burner again. Because I’m not. She’s just busy. People are busy.

Sometimes I’m busy.

But if I want something to happen for myself – I need to do it.

I know my writing issues. Maybe I can figure it out myself.

I’m scared tho. What if I take the time, publish it, then someone reads it and tells me that it’s horribly written. The story is okay, but it’s written horribly.

Then what?

Just because I can sometimes write a blog entry, doesn’t mean I can write. At the same time, how will I ever know if I can’t let someone read my writing.

She has read it. She told me she read it. Said the story is good. ++++ But, at the same time, she can see my errors. The errors I know I have. I just need help. But I can’t afford editors who do it for a living. I priced one once. Two cents per word. Doesn’t sound like a lot. But multiply $0.02 by 100,000 – then come at me again.

She is an old high school English teacher. I know she has the credentials. But at the same time, I can’t hurry her up when I am not paying her. She doesn’t want money, either. Just wants acknowledgement. That I can do.

But here I am. Still sulking. With chapter one written for book two.

Journey Update #2

Today is December 13, 2025. Which marks one year and one month since I had surgery. Let’s talk…

I have no regrets. Although, I have seen many people talk about how they regret it. How it was the worse decision of their lives. How, if they could rewind time, they’d never do it again. I don’t feel like that.

To date, give or take, I have lost 140 pounds. I say “give or take” because I do wobble between 187 and 191 pounds – which for anyone that didn’t know, I have no memory of ever weighing less than 205 pounds. ((Miracles happen))

I have days where I can eat more than others. I also have days where I can’t eat anything. Some days I feel great! Some days I feel like utter trash. Some days my stomach feels fine. Some days my stomach hurts.

Sugar makes me hurt. && when I say hurt, I’m talking hurting. Small amounts are fine, but if I “indulge”, for whatever reason, I hurt. (Just an FYI, I don’t eat sugar as often as most people think I do/did. But you can believe whatever you want. Sugar didn’t make me overweight. Carbs did. I went downhill when I figured out how to make ramen in the microwave.)
I can still eat carbs. Pasta. Rice. Bread. I can eat it. Not as much as I used to be able to. Three bites of pasta. Three bites of rice. I’m done. However, I always eat protein before I even attempt rice or pasta – && I’ve never been a huge fan of breads – so I can go without it.
I miss gulping water. But if I gulp water, it makes my stomach hurt for a few minutes.
I still make my plate like the old Barb. I do love leftovers, though.
Grape propel has become my best friend. I actually thought it would be Gatorlyte, the red one, but I have come to buy Propel more often when I’m out and about && want something other than water. (I’m a bottled water snob.)
I’ll never get used to being cold. Being overweight my entire life, I got used to being hot – all the time. Snow on the ground wandering around in shorts, short sleeve shirt, and flip flops. Sleeping with a fan on full blast. It hits 50 degrees and I’m putting on a sweater. Sitting under a heated blanket. Buying a heated mattress cover for my bed. I usually just joke with people that my padding disappeared.
I feel like I look old now. I understand that skin is only so elastic, after a while, your skin cannot bounce back. I am 38 years old, and I feel that I look in my 50’s. Logically, I know that’s probably not true. People tell me it’s not true. But it’s also the people who always told me I’m not “fat”. It’s also the same people who told me “You have a great personality” – which for future reference, that’s you telling them they are ugly.

I would do the surgery again. Sometimes I wish I had done it 15 years ago – when I thought about it the first time. But I honestly believed I could get the weight off myself. It wasn’t until I start dating TheBoyfriend that I realized I was doing the correct things – my body wasn’t. It also helped talking to co-workers (which is another conversation that people have I don’t understand) after they started watching what I consumed on a daily basis. I never lied to them. Didn’t fake what I was eating at home. But when you drink water or eat a cucumber and your blood sugar hits 500 – something isn’t working correctly. Did I ever have a doctor tell me this? No. Because they always said the same thing, “you need exercise and drink more water”. Remember that time I was drinking so much water on a daily basis that I ended up getting hospitalized because my body couldn’t get the amount I drank out? Then was followed up with having kidney disease and heart disease? I’m sure I’ve mentioned that. If not, I was drinking SEVEN GALLONS of water a day && still had doctors tell me I needed to drink more. That was their way through everything. Exercise && water. That will fix everything.

I started noticing things. All the small things I was ignoring. When I was hospitalized in 2021 is when it hit me – hard – like a cement brick to the face – I have to do something. I started listening to my body. It’s cues. The small things it would do or wouldn’t do. In 2021 is when I decided that I don’t have much of a choice – I have to do this surgery or I’m going to be the second girlfriend he buries before he is 40. && let’s be honest, I wasn’t/am not ready to die. I still have things to do/accomplish.

But it’s been a year. One year.