Nostalgia

For the first time in my life last week, I missed my hometown. It was the strangest thing. I haven't lived there since the summer of 2001, and for the most part I have not missed living there one bit. Until last week.

I went back home to do the Relay for Life with my family, and Jim had to work late so I went by myself. As I pulled into the edge of town, I was overwhelmed by a feeling of sadness that is really quite difficult to explain. I spent the next several minutes reminiscing various memories of my childhood and adolescence.

As much as I complained about living in a small town, it really was a great place to grow up. I always felt safe and I had so many opportunities to be involved in anything and everything. One of my favorite memories of living in Chariton was the swimming pool. Growing up, I practically lived there and as soon as I was old enough, I became a lifeguard. It really is the best job in the world, and to this day if I could get away with it, that would be my only full-time job. (At an outdoor pool, in a warm location.) Here are some pictures of the "new" pool, which opened in the summer of 2000.  I was the assistant manager and swim lesson coordinator, again, who could ask for a better job?

I thimk more than anything I was nostalgic for my childhood. Maybe it's that I'm getting older (I'm almost 30!) or maybe it's just that I haven't been home long enough to really take time to miss it in a long time. Don't get me wrong, though, I have no intention to ever move back there or really any small town like it. Sometimes it's just nice to remember where you came from when you can appreciate it mroe than you ever did before. Does anyone else ever feel this way, or is it just me?

Time for a change

I haven't blogged in a long time. I guess I've been busy, or maybe I just haven't had much to say. Maybe it's because Katie found out I have a blog and I don't want her making fun of me. Oh well, whatever the reason, I'm in the mood to blog today.

I made a terrifying discovery last week. I had a doctor appointment, and as you all know, the first thing they do is weigh you. Now, we have a scale at home, I just choose not to use it much. As it turns out, I have gained 20 POUNDS since my wedding. Seriously. 20. That was only 4 years ago.

I am fully aware that I have been gaining some weight, but I think I have also been somewhat in denial about the whole issue. Some may argue that technically I am still in the healthy weight range for my height (barely), but I just haven't been feeling very good about myself lately, and I think I am finally ready to address the issue.

On Monday, I started (loosely) dieting. Mostly I am really just trying to be more mindful of what I eat and how much of it I am eating. A few years ago I cut down on portions, limited myself to 2 pops a week, and quit eating out for lunch all the time.  It made a huge difference then, so that's what I'm trying again. I'm also continuing my workouts in the mornings, although I think after doing it for 2 years my body is just used to that level of activity, so realistically I need to increase my activity level to see results.

I made it two days pretty successfully, and then on Wednesday my co-workers asked if I wanted to order lunch from Cafe Fuzion with them. Their chicken pad thai is by far one of my favorite things and I have no self control, so of course I ordered some. Then I made a plan to immediately take half of it out of the container and save the other half for the next day. I ate the whole thing. So much for making good choices.

Today, however, is a new day and I can't take back what I've already consumed. I want to do this so I don't have to buy more new clothes to fit my larger body. I want to do this so I can remain healthy. I want to do this for me and not anyone else. Weight watchers recommends people set a weight loss goal to lose 10% of their total weight, so that is what my goal is. If I reach that, I will be exactly where I want to be.

Don't worry, I'm not going to be one of those annoying people who sit at lunch and criticize/analyze everything I'm eating as well as what everyone else is eating. And I know I will have days when I indulge. I just have to keep reminding myself of the big picture. By next week (or even really tomorrow) will I remember that I didn't get to have french fries for lunch today when they smelled so good? No. It took a lot of time to put the weight on, and I know it will take some time to take it off, but I'm ready to give it a try. Here's hoping.

Somehow I became a cat lady

I never, ever thought I'd say this, but I am a CAT LADY. At the end of last year, we adopted a kitten. We named him Gizmo (like the Gremlin). I never thought I wanted a cat. I used to make fun of people who had cats, because I thought cats were dumb pets and I hated how everything had to be on their terms.

I don't think that my obsession is just with cats, I think my obsession is with pets. I am an animal lover, always have been. Growing up, we always had dogs, so I just thought of myself as a dog person. I'm pretty sure if we had a dog, I'd be just as obsessed with it, if not more.

It all started after visiting some friends who had just gotten a kitten. Their cat was awesome, he was really playful and social, not like most cats I had come into contact with. I became determined to convince Jim (again) that we needed a pet, and cats were easier to take care of because you don't have to take them out in the snow to use the bathroom. The problem was Jim's allergies. To my surprise, though, it didn't take much convincing, and after a couple of weeks, we decided to check into some shelters. Even better than that, was the cat didn't bother Jim too much, he just gets a little stuffy from time to time.

Ever since then, I find myself starting to tell people stories about my cat. Sometimes I stop myself, because I'm pretty sure I sound like a moron. I take pictures of him all the time on my phone because he's always doing the funniest things. I worry when I think he's hurt. (It scares me to think of how ridiculous I will be if I have a child someday, if I am this crazy about my pet.)

Here are a couple more pictures of my little buddy.

The last one is one of my favorites. We were packing for Chicago, and he just climbed right into the suitcase.

So go ahead, make fun of me. I would if I were you.

Camera phone debate

I have a tendency to make fun of what others are wearing. Not that I think I'm some sort of fashion icon, I just sometimes wonder what made a person go into their closet that morning and choose the random/crazy/ill-fitting garments that they are wearing. I have also been known to take pictures on my camera phone of said outfits. I generally try to be discreet about it and think I do an OK job of doing so.

Last week my Mom was telling me a story about how she had gone to Target and noticed two teenage girls doing that exact thing to her- taking her photo on their camera phones and laughing about it. Now my Mom probably does look a little strange to some people, but with good reason. She was diagnosed with breast cancer last fall and because of the chemotherapy she has very little hair, it's just starting to grow back. To someone who didn't know any better, they might just think she has a really short haircut. She also has a flat chest at the moment because she had a double mastectomy in April.

Needless to say, it really hurt her feelings. I got really angry about it. I told my Mom she should have stopped and taken a picture of the girls on her phone, too. Or even better yet approach them and call them out on it. Then I started thinking about how I do the same thing. In my mind I try to justify what I do because I'm not making fun of someone who has a medical condition, just who has poor judgment in dressing themselves, but is it really all that different? Maybe I'm being just as hurtful as those girls were to my Mom. Maybe I'm just a big a-hole.

So the moral of the story is, I haven't since taken anyone's photo with my phone in order to make fun of them. I might not ever again.

Yes, my name is a flower.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jana Daisy. Yes, that's my real name.

Daisy is my LAST name, not my first name. I love my name, partly because it is also my husband's name, and partly because it is unique. I do not, however, love the jokes people make when they hear my name. For example: "What are you going to name your kids, Oopsa and Imma?" Guess what? Not funny.

Those of you who knew me before I was Jana Daisy know that my name has always been a flower. Before I was married, my name was Jana Rosa. Growing up, I couldn't wait to get married and have a new last name, because Rosa also got a lot of lame jokes (and a lot of Spanish-speaking telemarketer calls). When I fell in love with Jim, I realized that I would always be a flower, and there could be worse things than that.

If you do a google search of my name, you will find that there is a Jana Daisy who lives in Seattle and has her own belly dancing troupe, "Just like godesses". There is also a character on the Young & the Restless named Jana, who apparently is involved in a lot of controversy. Thankfully, I am neither of these.

Who am I, then? I am still trying to figure that out. What I can tell you is that I am a person who loves to smile (smiling's my favorite!), I try to be nice to everyone, and I love life. I like thunderstorms, I hate people who are pretentious, and I'm obsessed with Britney Spears.

Welcome to my world.