Listen to Yourself!

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I recently had the opportunity to hear my own voice singing what I thought was a GREAT rendition of a song. It was not. And it got me thinking about all the ways we sound to ourselves and how it differs from how others hear us. Listening to yourself on the Keep it Juicy! podcast.

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You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

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Before I tell you this story, I have to set ground rules. I’m not posting photos. Not gonna happen. You’ll get clip art and like it.

So.

I think I get what old age is going to be like: it will be making up heroic adventures to explain injuries sustained in the most mundane ways.

I think I cracked my rib.

And, for my readers, I’m going to be honest about the injury.

I was posing for my husband, a photographer who is always frustrated by the lack of cooperation his spouse exhibits whenever a camera lens is turned her way. I do not like the way I look in photos. I have an image of myself, one that props up my self esteem, and I do not care to see it contradicted in four-color glory.

But, finally, in a burst of what-the-hell, I agreed to let him take photographs of the boudoir nature. I had lost weight. I wasn’t getting any younger. He finally asked often enough. Whatever the reason, the date was set.

My husband set up a privacy cabana of hanging bedsheets on the upper porch to ensure privacy and capture the best daylight. And there we were.

I decided to try a pose on my stomach and then I remembered someone said that Kim Kardashian simultaneously arched a bit and sucked in her gut for the best photos. So I tried. Slowly. But even moving with caution on the hard wooden porch, I heard a crack from my left side.

The pain went all up my side for a second before settling beneath my left breast. No, not a heart attack. This tale is a comedy, not a tragedy.

Now, the day after, it hurts to press on my sternum, hurts to twist certain ways, and god help me if I sneeze. The rib is either cracked or bruised, neither of which can be treated with anything but time. But that story is just for you.

For anyone else who sees me wince, I’m going to expound on how I saved an entire city from a villain, super-hero style and got injured in the battle. Because, who would believe the truth?

pinup-girl-sexy-wearing-pink-bikini-84986312Check out Helen’s podcast, Keep it Juicy!

A Letter to My Younger Self

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The start of a new year, and we all hope that the coming year brings something better than the old. Out with the old, in with the new.

But the truth is, the old wasn’t so bad. I just wish I had realized it at the time. In case someone invents a time machine that can send a letter back to my younger self, I offer myself this hard-won advice:

Dear Younger Self:

I know the things that worry you, the things you feel like you will never master. So let me tell you what you will learn one day.

Jobs

The longer you’re in the workforce, the less entitled you will feel and the more grateful you will be for a job. The arrogance that came with your jump-start into a nifty job right out of college, will dissipate a few firings and one layoff later. But on the positive side, people will finally start to listen to the credence that experience brings to your voice, and motherhood will give you management experience with the tiny tyrants who populate most offices. And eventually, you won’t have to sell yourself so hard; jobs will start to come to you, and you will be grateful for each one.

Boys

The things that drew you to the bad boys will fade along with the bad boys’ hairlines. You will learn that you no longer need bad boys. On the other hand, the boys who seem like bland best buddies are still bland. You’re smarter, not dead, when you get older, and that sexual sizzle is still important and still worth getting out of – and into – bed for. You’ll just be more selective. Eventually, you’ll find one person who can deliver the lengthy best friend chats along with the lengthy bad boy sex.

Friends

You will figure out that swearing best-friend status for life is laughable. Your life will go through many twists and turns, and friends will come, go, then come back again like angels when needed. You will become so varied that no one friend can possibly fill all your needs, nor you theirs. So you will develop a tribe, a posse, a coven of friends who cover every occasion.

Life

You will work every day to get out of your own way. Sometimes you will succeed and do a little victory dance to celebrate the awesomeness of you. Other days, you will curl into a fetal position and consider it a victory if you get out of bed. But mostly, you will learn that you are good enough. Good enough to handle whatever life throws at you, whether it is losing a marriage, a job, or a mother. And you will learn that good enough..is good enough.

Dear Me