What does it take to change yourself? really change yourself? Last week's burning question and Kathy's post got me started thinking.
I've come to a time and a place in my life that requires something new, something fresh, something different. My writing voice, my outlook, my routines, my location. . . everything is up for grabs. (Relationships, not so much. They're my anchor.) I'm hip-deep in the process of reinventing myself.
So where do I start? I'm on a quest to find out.
Clearly, some things are in my control and some aren't. One thing I CAN do something about is my health, which isn't bad but could definitely use some improvement. Get thee behind me, Cholesterol! Need to drop some weight and get into better shape. There are times I feel I'm melting and merging into the keyboard. I need better posture, better work habits, and regular EXERCISE.
In that vein. . . my nearest and dearest strong-armed me into buying the latest fitness thing for the ambulatory: MBT walking shoes. These things look like the foam from an old car seat tied on with piles of white ace bandages. I opted for the sandals, since I live in Florida and wear open toes year around. Not that you can see much of my exquisite polish job through this spandex-gone-wild stuff.
These shoes are designed with "Masai Barefoot Technology" which gives rise to the name "MBT." It's like walking in loose sand. . . heel sinks and you have use major muscle to walk up and over the rest of the shoe. Supposed to strengthen the legs and align the spine. . . improve posture and double the workout from walking. I'll let you know if it helps. Or stops hurting. They ought to sell the damned things with accessorized Advil. But I'm determined. Fitness, here I come! I'm going to be a new woman by this time next year.
Ohhh, ohhh! I almost forgot! Following the current Hollywood trend of combining names to create a new gossip-and-promo-worthy entity. . . I have decided henceforth to be known as one half of the blended-moniker: "T-Rex." ("T" being the appelation of affection my family and intimates use; "Rex" being the name of my dear fiancee.) So T-Rex it is. At least where people refer to the two of us.
Note to the daughters-in-law: Feel free to continue with Mom or Betina. . . no need to refer to me as "Mother T-Rex."
What about you? If you decided to change something about yourself, what would it be? And where would you start? And if you're hooked-up or married, what Brangelina-Vaugniston-Bennifer-style moniker would you choose to go by in the tabs? (Better to be prepared, eh?)
3 comments:
Hey T! Luv those toes rings!!
I guess I've inadvertently gone through the exact type of change you're talking about, Betina, by selling my first book. All of a sudden I needed business cards and a website, and I'm involved in this blog. But that's a story for another day.
For today, I'll stick with wanting an entirely new wardrobe! Granted, clothes aren't a REAL change, but they sure change how people see you.
Do you think the IRS would cut me some slack on a trip to the MOA for "business supplies?"
earth shoes! remember those? this sounds like the same concept.
i've been trying to revamp my life for quite some time, but i'm not having much luck. i do know i want to get out of minnesota for at least 6 months of the year, and FLORIDA is looking more likely. I'm rather intrigued with the northern area, but need to snoop around more. but i really need to bend over and kick myself in the butt. lack of motivation is what i would change about myself. all talk and no do.
Ah, the memories. During my first year of teaching I went from Miss Pierson to Mrs. Eagle. The kids thought PiersonEagle was cute--or Piercin'Eagle. They had great fun coming up with first names for our firstborn. All the obvious ones, of course, but my favorite was Flyliken.
I'll be interested in hearing the verdict on those shoes, Betina. Are they the 21st century Birkenstocks? I've always hated buying shoes because I was self-conscious about the size of my feet until we found out Jackie Kennedy wore a 10. But the aversion remains. Once I break in a comfy pair of shoes, I wear them until they're so dated that women on the street start pointing out my feet to their daughters and talking out of the sides of their mouths.
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