What is beautiful?

What is beautiful? Beauty is societie’s view of being overweight or underweight. Two friends both ends of the spectrum finding beauty in both spectrums but questioning societie’s external expectations. I love my best friend. She believes me to be beautiful and me too her. Not because of height size or weight but because we are beautiful inside and out. No size  no shape no form no gender no age can can change that.

Watering The Wrong Seeds

I have to admit.  I have killed a lot of plants.  I am horrible with plants.  And most always the reason that those plants died is because I have been overloving and over watering them.  I am afraid they may get too dry and die.  Truth is they die because I give them too much water.

My life story is that I watered the wrong seeds.  I watered the seeds that grew into weeds and those seeds were the ones that were planted into my mind.  They started small then became a jungle because those seeds, when watered, grew like wild flowers.

The danger in growing wild weeds and flowers and jungles, is when you stop watering them, they may well die, but so do many other beautiful flowers around them.  If you don’t know how to decifer a weed from a flower you kill both.

I’m still learning this lesson.  I still now and again over water a plant and kill it and it makes me sick.  But I also learned how to keep some alive.  This in respect to true plants, and also learning how to do this with my mind seeds and flowers.

When I stopped being bulimic, I also stopped a lot of things.  I stopped worrying about what people thought of me, or the expectations they had of me.  But I also stopped worrying about who I wanted to be.  I even lost all expectations of my own life, which was not so bad in a way, because they were mostly what others expectected of me.  But my own goals in life, no matter how simple they may have been, were not even alive.  They lay dormant with all the other dead seeds.  They were still there, but they weren’t nurtured because I was too afraid that if those flowers grew, so too would the weeds around them.

So many thoughts.  I realized that no matter what I did in life, I would never change how my parents felt about me, or where I stood in their heart in comparison to my other sisters.  Even if they made it a competitive world between the four of us, it didnt’ matter if I was a doctor or a bumb on the street.  I would always be the #3 in their heart from the day I was born.  Nothing I did, in fact, really made them more proud then when I sank to the bottom and then stood up again and made a life for myself again.  They seemed more proud of that then any previous achievement I had in my life that I so worked towards to make THEM happy.  It didn’t matter.  I was always going to be #3.

I have recently been replanting my garden.  I have a new plot that has new soil.  In that garden I am planting what makes me happy.  It’s not to get praise from my parents anymore, or from a husband, or from anyone for that fact.  And if one of the plants I planted dies, it’s okay, because I know other ones will live.  I will learn how to care for them in time.  I will not over water them, and I will not over feed them.  I will do my best, and see what comes of my garden.

And in that garden is a place to sit and watch and enjoy.  And invited to that garden are people who will not judge the flowers that are not doing well, and enjoy the ones that are.  And even more so, enjoy my company and me theirs watching the garden grow.

My thumb may not be truly green, but at least it’s not all brown anymore.

Live, Love, Happiness

Sisters – Friend or Foe and the Delete Button


Sisters. I was trying to make sense of all of this.  Where did we start loving or hating each other.  So I made a grid.  I made a grid that I am still working on.  It starts off like this:

THOUGHTS by sister number.  1, 2, 3(me), 4:














So that is my list to date.  I can’t really know where I am in my family until I truly feel what it is that I feel for each and everyone of my sisters and how it shaped my world growing up.

I know my parents, as they are aging, are feeling that it would be a sad thing to see the family fall apart after they leave us.  I can’t say that will happen, but my delete button is staring me in the face with #1 on it.  I have had to suffer the pain of being around this gigantic demon in my life for so many years of so many issues I can’t even begin to write here on this public blog.  She has been the most destructive entity in our family from the day I met her.  But there is no delete button at this time.  I understand my parents.  I have three children of my own.  I know how much my daughter loves her eldest brother and feels as though he is not feeling the same back to her.  I know the feeling of my sons towards each other and towards their sister.  I wish I could have a magic wand and say “hey you will all be good together when I die”.  But I can’t.  And I don’t know what destruction ensued my divorce between them or anyone.  It was an ugly divorce and they were torn.  Each one of them at a different age that would be affected differently and also differently as they grew up and tried to put it all together.

The gigantic delete button would have been my first thing to do as soon as I had a human understanding of life.  If that delete button was available, my children would not have suffered under the horrible acts of #1.

Suffice it to say, I have tried forgiveness in the biggest way.  I tried to list any or all of the good traits of #1.  I failed drastically.  I could only come up with her paying for a birthday dinner she took me out to one night.  That was it.

From her trying to drown my #2 and taking all her friends and boyfriends away, and sitting on the side lines and watching, to her using my #4 and making her do things she should never have had to have done in her teens to make her husband happy, to her having an affair with… many… and ending it with my ex husband.  She was also the one at when I was 16 and she was about to get married, told me I should fast and lose weight because I was too fat at 130 lbs.  I am not blaming her, but she did plant that seed that led to my then five day fast that she put me on, followed by diet after diet to bulimia.  I chose to keep watering the seed she planted, but nevertheless…. She is pure evil.  She is a demon.  I try not to think about it often.  But when I do, I still look for that delete button.

And the sister that would be the one I would call on that is quoted in the picture?  #4


Four months and six years

It’s a telling tale when you have gone for four months without a “friend”.  I did visit with “wine” twice.  One time with one glass visit, the other a two glass visit.  I have to admit I felt bad for “wine”.  I did not enjoy the company.  The taste was like drinking rubbing alcohol.  It didn’t have the old familiar sweet aroma.  It was not longer a friendship I felt close to, nor a feeling of possessiveness or obsession of the way it used to seemingly complement the meal I was having, or a source of achiement, a reward or sorts, for a hard long day at work.  Wine has lost its place in my heart, my mind and my soul.

This brings me to the same feeling I have about my bulimia.  However, in the case of my bulimia, I am enjoying what was to me an enemy.  Unlike wine being my friend, food used to be my enemy.  I find this to be an interesting view.  The desire to banish what I have eaten is no longer a question.  Food nourishes me, as is now my feelings of desire to accomplish, to be active, to read, to fulfill a side of me that wine could not and that food does not, but complements.

I am just about to finish the novel “Eat Pray Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I am feeling a sort of sorrow knowing its coming to an end.  I have no idea what I want to read next.  I have a few books on my iPad, but I like to hold the pages in my hands.  I like the feeling of turning the pages.

Today, one of the lines I truly enjoyed was when her boyfriend tells her she is like a snail.  That she carries her home on her back.  I could relate to this very well.  In the 23 times I have moved, I have made a home wherever I have chosen to be.  I realized that the home is what I put in it.  The few belongings I have lugged around with me that make my new places familiar.  But that is the only thing that keeps me calling a place a home.

I don’t know where, in the external world, outside my right now tiny apartment, I belong.  I do not have any real friends other than my dogs and cats that I can just call up and go out with.  Having said that, I am quite a loner, and quite enjoy being so.  But there are the times when I would love to have someone to come by and share the deck with that overlooks a wondrous big pond with all the beauty of being in the country in the middle of a city.  I would love to have some interesting conversations about travel and passions, and such.  I’m not saying I don’t have any friends at all.  But I don’t have that one or two friends you know that you can count on now and again to get together and do something spontaneously.  I miss that.

Growing up, even when I moved around, I always found that one friend.  We were inseparable almost.  But I suppose when I got married, I took on his friends and I really didn’t have that one friend anymore.  And then when I divorced it was apparent that I had really no one left.  I did end up with a boyfriend to take that place… but when we broke up it was like I didn’t even want one.  I was tired of losing friends from moving and life experiences, that I chose to not have one.  Until last year.  I met someone that was my perfect best friend.  I finally found that one person I had longed to have in my life.  No commitments other than friendship.  We had so much fun together.  A year later he died, leaving me thinking again that its not worth the pain.  Yet I want this again.  I know though that these are not things you can just go out and find.  They are rare and beautiful occurences when you finally find that one person you just look forward to spending time with.

Well, I do have thousands of thoughts that are as disconnected as this post, but I will leave them for another night.  Maybe, just maybe, I will find solace in my writing and sending it out there to whomever cares to read it and to respond.

To all who have read it… have a great night… until the next time.

3 Months and Stepping Over A Threshold

Three months I have been without wine. I journalled about how I felt about that. Wine was my friend. But it wasn’t a friend that was a good influence. It was one to come home to but it was causing me to be apathetic about so many things. I let it go. I have moved on but with this moving on is the clearer awareness of solitude and searching for that who I truly am. A combination of me as a child and the me that is now with all that I went through.

Part of that realization came to me last week when I saw and spoke to my ex for the first time since the divorce about nothing more than just life in general. I had a strange sensation, as though the 15 years just past disappeared and I walked through a new door. A new beginning. A new and fresh start with a clean slate.

I updated my websites today and felt a new inspiration to complete what I so have wanted to in years. There are no excuses. I have the time. I now realize I have no excuse not to be able to devote myself at least part of my day to what I love. My cartoon character of 35 years and my courses for the next stage of my life.

A new chapter has begun.

There Is Never Enough Time

I heard this song and I realized that a big part of my life was lost to my bulimia, and to my self-centeredness and selfishness.  I didn’t realize I was any of those, buried in my addiction.  At the same time, looking back, I realized how lost I was through those years.  I never really knew who I was once my bulimia started.  I remember my mother telling me that I was not the Laurie she used to know.  She was indeed right.  I was not altogether gone, but a big part of that younger Laurie was – lost in the confusion of what it was that had taken over my life, and at times had sabotaged what could have been the most beautiful time in my life.

I won’t say that all was lost.  I did have some great times with my children.  Unfortunately, sometimes I have to look at pictures to remind me that I did have those.

I know I lost their teenage years to their father.  In hindsight, this was likely a good thing.  I try to resolve with myself if that was selfish of me to not fight the mammoth harder to have more time with them, but in the end, the fight to do so would have most likely just applied more scars to what already was a nightmare of a divorce and ending of a family unit.

Today I am very happy and I have forgiven myself for many things.  I do believe, however, the hardest one is the questions of parenting.  But I have to let those go.  My sons and daughter have advise me to do so, and to stop being sorry for what might have been.  So it is my duty to myself and them to move forward as I am doing, and enjoy every moment I have with them, however brief and few now that they are all young adults.

I end this with the song I was listening to that does make you think…. and realize it is so important to embrace the time we have with family and friends and even more so, with self.  For when the times alone are ones that you cherish, it makes it all the more magical to share the love you have for yourself with others you love.


6 Years and 28 Days


So I did it.  I made it through my 28 days to raise money for cancer without a drop of alcohol.  It wasn’t that hard.  In fact, I am quite happy to say that today, March 5th, I am still not drinking, and really don’t see a purpose in doing so.

Last night was my first “social” outing since my “dry” month and everyone was, as to be expected, drinking.  I didn’t and really didn’t feel left out what so ever.  We went axe throwing, which was quite therapeutic after a difficult day with some trying customers.

I am now trying to figure out another “month” of abstinence for something else.  I am considering television.  I would say my cellphone, but it is  my only mode of communication and a tool for work as well.  So I am going to try the abstinence of the TV for a month.

What I learned during my dry month was that it was incredibly freeing.  Small things you wouldn’t usually consider would come to mind.  Like the evening I thought of going to buy shower curtains to cover my couch so that my cats don’t mess on it and ruin it.  It was 7 p.m.  On a normal night, I would have had my glass of wine with dinner, and my following “relaxation” glass.  So there was no driving.  This particular night I sat and thought “I’ll pick that up tomorrow”, followed by a tiny voice saying “you can do that now!!”  And I realized that what once imprisoned me in  my own home for going drivable distances was removed and I was free to go anywhere at any time.

Small things.

My desire to go out “for a drink and snack” were completely curbed.  I saved on dining out, but spent more on groceries, because I am enjoying cooking again and eating healthy.  My budget for the wine, however, hasn’t changed much, as I am enjoying my non-alcoholic wine, and that is not cheap.  Strange though.  If they are so encouraging sobriety, you would think they would sell these beverages at a reasonable price.  Having said that, my MADD wine is also a donation towards the (Mad) Mothers Against Drunk Drivers.

My energy level is so much higher, I can’t even sleep in in the morning.  I have to be up and about doing things I enjoy, and I even got a gym membership and have being going, although not on a set schedule, a very regular basis.  When not there, I do a small work out from home, just because I am enjoying it.

Work seems to be much more enjoyable as well.  I have always liked my job, as it is active and it is about helping people, but lately I am liking it even more.  Some of that excitement also comes from books I have been reading that are opening up my eyes to a new way of thinking.

Life is exciting me more these days.  Maybe it’s time to pull out my paint set again.  I have already been playing around with new sketches of my cartoon character, who has laid dormant for a few years.

Here is to new beginnings, thanks to my niece who asked me to join in on the fundraiser.  Who knew it would have this impact on me?

Just a note:  The campaign is going on until the end of March in donation collections.  If  anyone would like to donate to this cause, you can do so by clicking on this link.  I was amazed to find out that just over 2000 people participated and they raised $120,000.  I am at $25 (my own donation) at this time.  I am okay with that too.  It was worth every penny. 🙂  DryFeb Cancer Fundraising Donations Link