Supersized Society

I almost prefaced this post with a disclaimer that I do not intend to offend anyone by its content. On second thought, it's my blog and I'm allowed to write about whatever I like -- so if you don't like what I write or take offense to it, please let me know. Controversy is my middle name.

Lately I have been reminded of the negative view our society has adopted in regards to health and fitness. In years past, someone who was in shape and took care of his/her body would be applauded and considered a role model (Arnold, pro athletes, Olympians, etc.). Nowadays, I hear more criticism of my healthy lifestyle than encouragement. Take the other day, for example. When I decided not to accompany my office to the local Chinese buffet, several coworkers expressed their (wrong) opinions: "Oh, Lauren's not going because she just wants to make us look bad." When I decided not to eat the potato salad, cookies, chips, and pop at the office picnic: "Are you on a diet - because you of all people don't need to be on a diet." When every afternoon I drink my protein shake instead of eating a Snickers bar: "Why are you drinking that? [mockingly] Are you like some crazy bodybuilder or something?"

When has my choice of living a healthy lifestyle become a point of criticism? It's sad that today's society has so openly welcomed and accepted obesity that when I try to make a stand against it, I am ridiculed. Since when has it become acceptable for extremely overweight Americans to workout, eat healthy, and make smart choices, but someone like me cannot? Do I have to be terribly overweight and completely unhealthy for it to be "ok" to follow guidelines? Why is it that now I keep my mouth shut about my healthy lifestyle in fear of being made fun of? Why can't people understand that I'm not trying to insult anyone by how I live?

Is it jealousy? Anger? Resentment? Or would Americans, or any human being for that matter, choose to live in comfortable denial rather than face the harsh truth? Let's admit it, obesity has become an acceptable epidemic in America and it makes me sick. I shouldn't have to feel bad about what I eat, or how often I work out, or my short and long term weight goals because I am striving to make myself better. God has given me this body and I want to glorify Him with it. I want to take care of myself to the best of my ability, not only for my own good, but for my husband and my future children (yikes!). Is this such a bad thing?

Please let me reiterate that I by no means intend to brag about my accomplishments. I struggle with my body image just as much as any other woman (ask my husband if you don't believe me) and I do not consider myself as any type of standard. I work extremely hard and have had to make many sacrifices to get to the place where I am today. I also fail and make mistakes on a regular basis (read: the double cheeseburger meal from McDonald's last weekend). I whole-heartedly applaud and support anyone, regardless of body weight, who makes the tough decision to change their life. And by golly, it's hard! It's not easy to choose a turkey sandwich over sweet and sour chicken. It's almost impossible to pass on the DoubleStuf Oreos or Sharon Bellomy's homemade chocolate cake. And Lord knows, Starbucks is in existence solely to tempt me.

BUT, after all is said and done, and after listening to criticism left and right, I look in the mirror and I am proud of myself. I only wish society would stop making me feel so doggone guilty for finally doing something right. Now if you'll excuse me, my chocolate mint protein shake is calling my name...

Memorial Day (creative title, ay?)

Every year I see pictures and hear stories of people spending Memorial Day out on a boat somewhere, enjoying the sunshine and much needed time off. This year, I finally was able to join the Redneck Yacht Club:

Billy and I getting completely fried on our friends' pontoon boat in Indiana.

They (Elizabeth and Zech Wright) are the reason we were on the said boat. Zech is Billy best friend and they were in town from L.A. It was great to see them.

Yes, that is my husband. Yes, I willingly chose to love him for the rest of my life. I am the luckiest girl in the world, I tell ya.

The rest of the weekend we spent camping at the Kankakee River State Park. 5 people, 16 poles, and one argument later, ta-da! Pure camping bliss.

Captain B. Safe and Sergeant Smokey

This past Monday, I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business, (yes, actually working and not blogging) when one of the public safety officers came into our office yelling, "There's a tornado! There is a tornado headed our way! Everyone to the basement!" Apparently, every office/academic building on campus is subject to mandatory emergency/disaster training and Monday just so happened to be our scheduled time slot. So, I saved the report I was working on and schlepped down the narrow stairwell with my coworkers into the moldy old Miller basement (aka the old swimming pool from yesteryear).

Five minutes later I trudged back up the steps and sat back at my desk only to have the same officer come in yelling, "There's an intruder on campus! The building is on lockdown! Proceed to your emergency safety area!" Supposedly our emergency area is the windowless hallway in the middle of the building, but I prefer my own emergency safety area: under my desk with pepper spray and cell phone in hand. To each his own.

I made it back to my desk again hoping that I could finish the report before 4:30pm so I could go home, but nay nay. Two minutes later, the fire alarm was blaring. Proper protocol is to proceed to the nearest exit, closing and locking all doors on the way out; however, my choice of exit would be the out the window next to my desk. Again, to each his own.

Once we were all outside and given the all clear, we then had to proceed across campus for mandatory fire extinguisher training. We waited while 8 volunteer firefighters set up a gas grill and two fire extinguishers -- I'll let you do the math. Meanwhile, Captain B. Safe (who had to be at least 60 years old and 50 pounds overweight) gave us a lecture on fire safety:

Captain B. Safe: "Now, a fire will double in size every minute. [pauses for dramatic effect] That means, that a trash can sized fire will grow to the size of....uh.....two trash cans in 60 seconds. So in one minute, a single trash can sized fire will become a two trash can sized fire. [pauses for dramatic effect] Now this extinguisher uses a gas called carbon monoxide. That's the stuff we breathe out. This gas is extremely cold, so much that it will cause frostbite if you touch it. That's why the handle is insulated -- so that you won't burn yourself."

Me: "So the handle is insulated so that I won't burn myself from the frostbite?" (I just had to.)

Captain B. Safe: "That's right. We try to take every precaution to make sure that you remain safe. And never, ever, turn your back on the fire. Remember, a fire grows to double its size in 60 seconds. That means that a trash can sized fire...."

And so on. I stood there laughing silently to myself, already composing parts of this blog post in my head. When Captain B. Safe finished his speech, he had us line up into two rows so we could practice putting out a fire. Sergeant Smokey (who was probably in his mid-twenties and as macho as volunteer Bourbonnais firefighters come) took over and gave us the how-to:

Sergeant Smokey: "Now, y'all are just going to use the powder extinguishers. We don't want to take the risk of y'all burning yourself with the carbon monoxide [silent laughter]. Although, the carbon monoxide kind is great if you want to chill a drink on a hot summer day. It can ice down a beer in just seconds! When it's hot and you're thirsty and your beer is warm....just a few sprays and you've got yourself an ice cold brew."

Me: [standing next to David Pickering] "Know your audience, man."

And so, I successfully extinguished the gas grill fire and finally made it back to my desk with time to spare. I salute you, Captain B. Safe and Sergeant Smokey - Olivet is a safer place because of you.

It's Friday (end of title)

So I started, stopped, and erased this blog post three times already. I changed the title from "Peanut Butter & Protein Shakes" to "How to Deal With Difficult People" to "Living Like No One Else" and then I just gave up. I have plenty of rough drafts for each title lollygagging around in my head, but nothing is coming to fruition. I am the only one in the office, it's raining outside, I'm butt-tired, and my coffee tastes like water (stupid office coffeepot). So what do I do when I have several ideas and no time (or brain synapses) to elaborate? I make a bulleted list.

• It's officially cutting season and I've decided to jump on board this year. (Note: "Cutting" is a bodybuilding term for getting super lean -- usually for a contest or in my case, bikini weather.) My diet consists of water, protein shakes, veggies, chicken, protein shakes, eggs, and brown rice. Yummy, eh? I can't complain since I've lost two pounds in a week and my abs are making their long-awaited comeback.
• Billy and I are making significant progress in our "Total Money Makeover." So far we've paid off four significant debts and will pay off two more by the end of the month. We're sticking to our budget, he has picked up several overtime shifts, and I'm selling everything but the kitchen sink. We are living like no one else so that one day, we can live like no one else. Dave Ramsey, you are our hero.
• Patience has never been my strong point. I have a very difficult time dealing with the intellectually challenged (read: stupid idiots). One of these days I'm going to end up in the HR office, having to explain how my desk chair flew out the window and why I pulled all my hair out. But really, I love my job.
• I know I will get a lot of flack for this, but in my opinion, I do not think anyone should get married before they AT LEAST graduate college and spend some time in the real world. I have 18, 19, and 20 year olds coming into my office to apply for married housing -- these are teenagers! Marriage is so much more than just sex and playing house, and I fear that so many young people fail to realize this. I know there are always exceptions (love you, Mom and Dad!) but I strongly believe that students need a heavy dose of reality rather than hormones.

Ok. That's all for now.

P.S. I know that "Keeping Up With the Cases" is having a garage sale tomorrow as well, but I would really love it if you would take some time to visit ours too. 404 S. Rivard (behind the Mickey's) in Bourbonnais. 8:00am-Noon. You won't regret it.

A Tribute

Considering it's the day after Mother's Day, it's only fitting that I dedicate this blog post to the person who made it all possible: my mother.



I like to think that our relationship is far from typical. (Albeit, most things in my life are atypical.) We didn't play with Barbies, do each other's makeup, or pretend we were princesses. My mom allowed me to be the "unique" tomboyish little Ramona who would much rather play in the mud than play dress up. She didn't judge me when I thought that short, spiky hair was in vogue or when I chose to wear thrift store t-shirts to church. When I was constantly picked on in junior high, my mother would greet me at the door with a hug and a bowl of ice cream. She loved me when I didn't love myself.

When I left for college, I let my mother take the brunt of my mistakes. When I turned my back on everything and everyone I loved, my mother never gave up hope and never quit praying. She saw me through the darkest nights, faithfully trusting that God would keep His promises. Through years of tears, anger, and heartbreak my mom stormed the gates of Hell on my behalf. My mom has been and will continue to be one of my strongest allies and prayer warriors.

And let's be honest: where do you think I got my sense of humor and quick wit?

I love you, Mom. Here's to hoping you figure out the link to read this post. :)

Look What I Can Do!

So I think I just figured out how to properly add pictures to my blog because let's face it, blogs are much more fun to read when there are pictures are included. And so, here's a brief preview of my elementary blogging skills. (I still can't figure out why this section of text is centered but anything I write underneath the pictures is not. Help?)

One of our first dates at the local Starbucks or as we like to put it: "Starbucks and theology: it's how we roll." Aaaaaaand.....Picasa won't seem to let me upload more than one picture at a time. I am quickly becoming very frustrated with this. At least I tried.

Why Did I Get Married? (Part II)

My previous, "Why Did I Get Married?" post celebrated the many wonderful attributes of my adoring husband. He's the most generous, kind, and loving man I've ever met and I praise God that he hasn't given up on me yet (the rhyme was accidental, I promise). I couldn't imagine loving anyone more than I love him. We've celebrated two months of blissful companionship and though I sing his praises -- sometimes I could just slap him upside his head. Case in point:

1. The "I-fart-in-bed-while-my-wife-is-trying-to-sleep-and-silently-pull-the-covers-over-her-head-in-an-attempt-to-suffocate-her" game. (It's a working title.)
2. I open up his closet to find all his dirty clothes laying on the ground right next to the hamper. Putting the clothes into the hamper that's six inches away is far too much work apparently.
3. The "Guess-which-toilet-I-didn't-flush" game.
4. He refuses to throw anything away. Our second bedroom is filled with an unused mattress, an electric car buffer, two paintball guns, a 3' tall stuffed Garfield doll, 4 industrial-sized Rubbermaid bins filled with various items ranging from Army BDU's to his Eminem cd collection, 35 textbooks, 16 hunting knives, and 3 motorcycle helmets. (Saturday, May 16th -- 8am-2pm -- 404 S. Rivard St. Bourbonnais -- Garage Sale of epic proportions.)
5. He has no self-control when it comes to food. I buy a family-sized bag of Sun Chips, and they're gone in one day. I've learned to hide my Oreos if I want them to last.
6. The "Guess-where-I-hid-the-car-keys" game.
7. My car, which he has been driving since it's better on gas mileage, has turned into his giant mobile backpack. I haven't been able to see the floor since January.
8. I'm still trying to train him to close the shower curtain after he showers to prevent mildew. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've bribed him with Oreos.

Most of these are simply for laughs, as I find them mildly entertaining. It's been fun living with my best friend and learning the ins and outs of the male species. Two months pales in comparison to a lifetime, so I can only imagine what this list will be like a few years from now! Until then, I'll keep trying to domesticate him while loving him just the same.