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Neil Degrasse Tyson’s Handwriting Analysis.

As requested, I’m going Neil Degrasse Tyson’s writing this week. I looked at many signatures and found his is relatively consistent letting us know his public image is just that, consistent. His writing matches to a degree as far as the pressure and size goes, that lets us know that what you see is what you get with this man. (it was a challenge to find examples of his writing that wasn’t his signature.) He is in public the same as he is in private. The first thing I noticed about his signature was the heavy pressure, which is also seen in his writing. This shows a person of passion and whether he’s discussing science, relationships or the weather, he’s going to exhibit enthusiasm about his topics. There is also a definite ‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me’ indications in his writing. You won’t want to piss him off as he takes his time getting over injustices.

Obviously, he’s intelligent, this is shown in his writing as well as his signature. It’s not faked. He’s a peace keeper and has the tendency to have long, meaningful relationships. There is a desire for attention and a desire for more responsibility shown in his writing, both correlate with being a middle child and probably came naturally as he grew-up. There are indications he finishes what he starts. He is a deep thinker and enjoys the art of dissecting theories and analyzing. The N is the letter of friendship and Mr. Tyson’s shows when he makes emotional connections they are strong and lifelong. The middle initial, D is interesting how he writes it. It’s the letter of sensitivity and he has a tendency to be private and may have emotional walls built around him. The T in his last name shows good old fashion work values. And he has generosity in his public image. Also, on most of his signatures, there is an underscore showing his ego and self-importance.

It was great getting to know this intelligent man through his signature. Before I started I didn’t know much about him other than his passion for science.

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My all-American rant – Happy Independence Day

A very unpatriotic rant.

I suppose most of you are out barbecuing hot dogs and setting off bottle rockets and are entirely too busy to be reading random rants on internet blogs. It gives me a bit of a thrill to know I can say whatever comes to mind without worry of a very big audience.

As most of us out there, I grew up with parents born during the end of the WWII era that became adults during the Vietnam conflict. My folks were as apple pie patriotic as they come, red, white and blue through and through. Tears would spring to our eyes when we heard the Star Spangled Banner. Specifically, after learning what the men and women of that particular battle went through to create this amazing country. Francis Scott Key’s beautiful take on the morning after that battle and what that flag still flying truly meant gave me shivers; I’m that proud of this country.

While I was pregnant with my daughter, the Oklahoma City bombing happened. It was the first time I hesitated a bit as far as being safe in America. A white, homegrown terrorist? Here, in this country? Safety of that sort isn’t something most of us think about until tragedy strikes. Anyway… When the fourth of July, 1995, rolled around Lee Greenwood’s God Bless the USA was recently on the top of the country-western charts, and that night, watching the fireworks show, I thought how fortunate my child was being born into this great country. Tears streamed down my face at how proud I was to be an American. At that time, I thought of my country like a reliable relative. My grandparents’ oldest brother, Uncle Sam, here to protect and take care of me and ensure I was privileged enough to raise my child in the best country in the world, free. Free to choose our religion, free to raise my daughter as I saw fit, free to work hard, play hard, make money, save, retire.

As I aged, it seemed my favorite uncle wasn’t exactly the way he was portrayed.

When my first grader refused to stand and recite the pledge of allegiance, (written by a socialist, did you know that?), I had to stop and take note. She had valid points. “Mom,” she said, “have you really listened to the words of the pledge? It’s a promise and I can’t do it.” She saw my puzzled look and continued, “What does the Republic stand for anyway? I can’t pledge anything if I don’t know what it stands for? What if I don’t agree with it? Then I made a promise of allegiance to something I don’t agree with! And one nation under which god?”

Later that year, 9-11 happened. The fake patriotism made me want to barf. Support Our Troops… Because they got a really bad deal? Because they are being forced into a war about… what? The more I read, researched and learned, it became apparent my good old Uncle Sam was nothing what I thought. He became that weird family member that does shady deals behind closed doors, a drug dealer, a gambler, a hypocrite, a pervert, a gluttonous misogynist pig.

When my daughter was in junior high she came home and threw her backpack across the living room? When she saw my look of concern she screamed, “Did you know, in this country white women only make seventy-three cents for every dollar a man earns?” She could see by the look on my face I did know that. “This is America for crying out loud!” She stormed into her room and slammed the door. (I’ve wondered if it was that moment that pushed her into International Policy for her college major.) Foreign exchange students came and went in our lives, it was interesting to see how they viewed the good old U.S.A. Interesting even more to compare their governments and laws, what works where they are from and what doesn’t. I started seeing that we weren’t as free as I had been told all my life.

As non-Christians, we were out-casts; as women, we made less money. I have black nieces and have to put up with dirty looks and whispers when we go out with them. People who grow pot spend more time in our ridiculous money making private prisons than rapists and child molesters and none of the above will get any type of rehabilitation from our system. Cops can kill because of the shade of a person’s skin. The Brock Turners of the world get pampered and are allowed to do whatever they want while the Trayvon Martins die for doing nothing. Free?

And our civic rights? The United States voting system… I realized a few presidential elections ago how our votes don’t really count. They give us the ‘license to bitch’, but because of the broken two party/super delegate system, (not to mention voter suppression), the people’s votes don’t really count (Right, Hillary?). Oh, and then there’s the gun-owning Americans that are too selfish to allow smart restrictions on lethal weapons screaming about their second amendment rights when its really all about money. A gun is a retail product. All. About. Money.
(By the way, did you know, recently your fourth amendment rights were taken away, modified. No one is talking about that ratification of that amendment because it isn’t big money. Seriously, just this year, look it up.)

The 2016 Presidential election gave me a glimmer of what could be but it was extinguished by corporate American greed. In my opinion that is the problem, greed. It dawned on me the debates from when I was a child were the same ones still going on. The war on women and their reproductive rights, the war on drugs and making millions doing it, gun rights and oil. Decade after decade and we can’t move on from those topics? Things can’t change? What is wrong with this country? My country has started letting me down over and over again. Now-days, it’s more surprising when the government gets something right. Even as much as I love President Obama, I don’t agree with all of his policies specifically the TPP (Trans-Pacific Partnership). (Although, I must admit, it was easier to stomach when he slow-jammed the news with Jimmy Fallon about it.) There are things this country does that are just down-right embarrassing, redefining what it is to be American.

Okay, I can hear some of you saying ‘Well, if you don’t like it here, just leave.’ And I ask you, is that how you settle conflicts with your uncles? You don’t like the way a family member behaves and so you divorce them because of their bad choices?  To be fair, I have never gone anywhere out of this country that I haven’t met a person that is dissatisfied with something regarding where they live; the government, the weather, the people, etc… This country IS great, it’s amazing! But perhaps we can learn from our mistakes, change and get better; it’s called life in the real world. There is no perfect place on this earth or we would all be migrating there, and I know how good we have it. (And know how good it could be.)

Lets face it folks, this rant… I’m only exercising my freedom of speech. Happy birthday, America. Cheers to the next two-hundred and forty years.

PS-if you’re wondering about the picture… I Googled ‘Creepy Uncle Sam cartoons’ and this one was by far the best. It bothers me when I hear people my age(or older) say they just have never really been into politics until this year and I believe they are part of the problem, but really… can we handle the truth? And if we know it, will we be strong enough to make any changes?
(Aahhh… deep thoughts by Dacia.)

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Gillian Flynn – Three of four novels, review

Was I the only person that read Gone Girl and hoped the movie would be better than the book? Honestly, I wondered how that particular novel was chosen for a movie. Usually, the books are way better than the movie, but… I didn’t like the film any better than the book when it comes to Gone Girl. The premise of the book was entertaining but it seemed to me the book dragged on and on and there weren’t any surprises at the end. (I pretty much had figured out the way it was all going to come down only a third way in.) That being said, I applaud anyone who can successfully write a novel and thought I shouldn’t give up on the author. Gone Girl just wasn’t my cup of tea. If you haven’t read it or seen the movie, basically, a wife disappears and it looks like the husband was behind the whole thing but the woman was really just trying to get revenge on the husband and make herself famous and put her husband behind bars. The husband figures it out as he knows his innocence and his wife. Okay, no more spoiler-alerts if you haven’t read it. I had heard many people rave about the story, book and movie but it just didn’t grab me.

Impressed with Ms. Flynn’s website, if not her writing, I thought I’d give her another try and picked up The Grownup. It was a short book and I thought that would solve the on-and-on problem of Gone Girl. To be truthful, I couldn’t put it down and was disappointed it was so short. In Grown-ups, I thought I had the ending all figured out and BAM, Gillian Flynn right hooks and the end takes a little twist that left my mouth agape. This read was about a young woman trying to make it as a physic and one specific client. The client has a creepy step-son that gives the plot many twists. After finishing this book, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and went back to see what else Ms. Flynn had published.

So it’s sounding like I’m just a picky reader, right? The first one too long, the second one too short… Goldie-locks of book reading, good grief. The third book I picked up from this author was Dark Places. Like with the blonde kid and the three bears, this one was just right. Each chapter I changed my mind on how I thought the author would conclude the story and I was still wrong. This book left me on the edge of my seat and kept moving throughout so I didn’t get bored. It’s about a family that a horrific murder happened in their house where the mom and two of the sisters were killed. The youngest, seven at the time, testifies it was the older brother and he is convicted and goes to prison. Decades later, a group of inquiring minds called The Kill Club introduces the protagonist to alternate theories of her family’s deaths. She starts piecing the murders together and discovers the truth about what happened that night- (that’s all I’m saying, again, no spoilers.)
One of the great things about Gillian Flynn’s writings is the characters are believable and likable, even the ones you’re not supposed to like. I’m also impressed with the way she flips things when you are least expecting it, keeping the reader hooked. In my eyes, two of Gillian’s three books I’ve read entertained me and kept me wanting more so I’ll have to give her a huge thumb’s up and look forward to the next one of her novels. Sharp Objects anyone?

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Man-Crush Monday Handwriting Analysis; President Obama

Man Crush Monday Handwriting Analysis! Over the last seven and a half years, I’ve had a few recurring dreams where I’m having an affair with President Obama. Usually the dream involves me being sly, creeping along a hallway, not wanting to get caught, tip-toeing around the white house, reading a note he’s left me, or trying to sneak onto the Air Force One. On the rare occasion he makes a cameo appearance in these dreams, I think, ‘Wow, he’s so tall.’ or ‘Dang, I wish he could do a third term.’

I’m going to miss him and his lovely wife in the White House and know they will continue to do amazing things. Here’s my take on his handwriting. (I was able to look at quite a few samples as there is a site designated to his handwriting.) Oh, and I should mention, there are only a few things you CAN’T tell about a person by their writing, which hand they are using is one of those. For the record, President Obama is left-handed. (This is not completely unusual with Presidents; Bill Clinton, George Bush Sr. and Harry Truman were also lefties.)

President Obama’s slant is almost straight up and down, indicating a head-over-heart thinker. He demonstrates caution in his approach to dealings, weighs out his options, tends to ‘sleep on it’ before rushing into decisions. He was independent and forward thinking from a young age. There is determination, compassion, intelligence and great conversation skills shown in his writing. He also print-writes, a combination of cursive and printing. His shows he can be flexible, empathetic and friendly. He’s about service to others, he craves more responsibility and he has a great balance between work and play.

Signatures are the way we want to believe people view us, our writing is the real us. President Obama’s signature is slightly different than his writing. He may be a bit aloof in his home life, more goal-driven and focused in his professional world. His signature shows privacy yet a desire to stand out in public. His initials are proportionately larger than his writing. This is also something that is seen in many politicians, actors and musicians. (It’s related to their ego.) There is also that classic, ‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me’ attitude shown in his signature specifically. And a lot of generosity is shown in his public image/signature.

The dishonesty that is revealed in his writing is ‘dishonesty by omission’, which is to say, he doesn’t lie, he just may leave out details or be clever in changing the subject and not answering at all. There are high moral standards, like being faithful and loyal (no love-affairs, dang it…) He also displays charm, charisma and poise. Thank you, President Obama, for a fabulous two-terms. (I had a hard time deciding which writing sample to steal from the web, there were many to choose from. I used this one in memory of the horrific massacre that happened yesterday in Orlando. ‘We remember, we rebuild, we comeback stronger’ let’s hope smarter too #endgunviolence )

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Here’s Hillary’s… Handwriting Analysis

This analysis, coming to you by popular demand.

I’ve got to give Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton one thing, she’s tenacious. Over the years, I’ve done many reviews of her handwriting and have noted some of the subtle changes throughout time. Specifically I’ve seen these changes in the center of her letter H. While she was the first lady, the shape in the center of the H was more of a triangle, it’s evolved into more of an oval now. This tells me Hillary has a softer side to her that may have come with nothing more glamorous than age.

Looking at anyone’s handwriting one must keep in mind, there is a good side and bad side to every letter and no one initial or letter is better than the other. A lot of other handwriting analysts believe Hillary uses Rodham to define her independence, but I think it’s more than that. I have a high belief in peoples’ initials and the energy that brings to a personality. There are five ‘power letters’ in the alphabet, they are the heads of groups of letters. (D,H,K,R,T) For example, the R is the leader of the creative letters. It’s a power letter, the C is not. The C is the letter of the feminine, it’s nice and soft and doesn’t really like the limelight. (Think of Hillary and Bill’s daughter, Chelsea Clinton, a double dose of the soft C. Do we see her in the spotlight? Is she anything but pleasant and nice? No… Chelsea imbues the letter C.) Back to Hillary, of course she wanted to claim Bill when she married him but to give up a powerful, more masculine letter for the soft, simple letter C? I don’t see it. That is my opinion of why she still uses Rodham, it’s more her. Her R indicates she has great ideas, thinks, is intelligent.

Her letters have very little slant, she’s a weigh-out-your-options kind of gal. In fact, she may play the ‘what if’ game in her head, ‘if’ I did that, ‘what’ would happen. She’s also a worrier and may even make pros/cons lists as a visual aid for things. She’s adaptable, flexible and strong-willed. My guess is, she’s a hard person to get to know, a bit of a loner, but once you have her loyalty, she’s fiercely devoted. She has classic politician’s dishonesty that associates with pandering and dishonesty by omission, in other words, she can skate around the truth without actually telling lies. (All of this paragraph has been consistent in her writing in the last twenty years.)

Mrs. Clinton’s writing has been featured in many handwriting analysis’ books and articles and over time, has changed with her age, but her core values have remained. She’s open-minded, practical, has critical thinking skills as well as creativity. There is a suggestion she is goal-driven and has an appetite for more responsibility. The rest of this election is going to be mighty interesting. Thanks for reading.

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Senator Bernard Sander’s handwriting analysis

It was a true honor to have seen Senator Bernie Sanders speak in Albuquerque a few weeks ago. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, I am, but he was a long shot out of the gate, the underdog. And, life isn’t always full of Hollywood endings where the underdog comes from behind and kicks the wicked witches tail. I hope his message has been heard, that things begin to move in a different direction. I’m glad he’s in politics, I’m glad he’ll still stand as Senator of VT.  I wish him all the best, sincerely. So, let’s talk about his handwriting.

This writing is easy to analyze because its simple and consistent. Bernie Sander’s signature is as clear and straight forward as he is. My first impressions of his writing is that his slant is Palmer perfect, in other words, it’s exactly the slant that is taught in elementary school. This particular slant has been referred to as the ‘teacher’s slant’ as people whose writing leans forward slightly (about 2 o’clock on a clock) have the ability to get along with almost anyone. They can touch the very shy or connect with the very gregarious. Bernie Sander’s writing shows that plainly. He has high levels of empathy, and compassion. He is generous and kind.

He had good old fashion values, is no nonsense and not afraid to speak his mind. Optimistic and ideal driven, Bernie Sander’s writing shows he rules with his heart. There are high morals and honesty shown throughout. Average money/power drive. High intelligence is shown laced with a little stubbornness. That is, when he digs his heels in, be ready for a struggle.

His writing is a little boring which tells us he’s an average guy. He likes his privacy and can handle the spotlight. The signature and writing matches which lets us know with Bernie Sanders, what you see is what you get. I looked at everything online I could find that was his writing. It’s pretty consistent stuff. He’s an important player in the Senate and although it looks like the presidential nomination is going to slip by, I’m glad his message has gotten out there to this country. Thanks for reading.

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Handwriting analysis of my least favorite candidate

There are a thousand and one reasons I didn’t vote for Donald Trump today, many of them can be seen in his signature alone.

My knee jerk reaction… He’s motivated by sex, power and money. He’s intense and egotistical and completely lacks empathy. Oh wait, did I get that from his television campaign? Nope, his signature. As we know, cursive writing is a combination of curves and angles but sometimes, one favors the other, like with Trump’s. His favors the angular completely. A person without curves and softness is linear, analytical, driven and focused, and that’s his public face.

Harsh angles imply critical thinking and sharpness, Donald Trump’s penmanship shows someone determined, competitive, challenged, angry and fearful as well as someone that craves power, prestige and admiration. (Not to change the subject, but have you seen Hitler’s writing. Turn it sideways and compare it to The Donald’s. Odd, huh?) Donald Trump does have some of the qualities for leadership, let’s face it; he consistently lands on his feet. He’s been bankrupt more than once, in the limelight, and on the front pages of the tabloids and still has the money, power and enough narcissism to want to run for President of the United States. Yes, that can all be seen in his writing. He’s created his own world, one in which, he is the bully and proud of it. The low maturity level is also shown in his writing, his rash and snap decision making process and argumentative nature.

Let’s also look at the moral compass. Most politicians have some kind of dishonesty in their signatures. Usually they show the dishonesty sign that relates to pandering, in other words, they will tell one audience one thing and another audience the exact opposite. Donald Trump has that trait. He isn’t above deception to get his way either. Being secretive and exaggeration is also shown in the dishonesty categories of Donald’s writing. (He shares those last few traits with GeorgeW.) It should also be noted his writing is completely different than his signature, that’s an indication of a person who acts/speaks differently in public than in private. His private writing (not signature) also shows low IQ and a person that needs the approval of others.

Being a professional handwriting analyst, I analyzed his writing and reported just the facts as I see them. I’m basing my analysis on just one signature and one piece of writing, they were both pictures from the internet, not originals. I have my own personal reasons why I do not support this presidential candidate. One has to ask themselves does he have any political experience to be president? Our country isn’t a business built for profit of a chosen few. There’s no reality show, no bankruptcy or con-college, it’s our country. What Donald Trump’s signature lacks is class, poise, self-control, as well as, charm and grace. He would not make a very good leader for this country.

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My first book review

The Magic Strings of Frankie Pesto by Mitch Albom

Magical indeed. This has been my favorite book of 2016 (although it came out the end of ’15). If you’ve never read Mitch Albom, this is the perfect book to start with. If you have read Mr. Albom’s work than you know the captivating tale in which to expect, every time. (Side note, Mitch Albom is one of my all time favorite authors due to the dependability of his work. Although sometimes he gets a little too into the religious realm for my tastes, his writing is consistently moving me to an emotional state. That’s entertainment. And who knew? He’s also a musician.)

The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto, the audio was enchanting. The guest narrators, superb. The scenes are set up like a media interview at our hero’s funeral, clever. Throughout it, I thought, did this guy really exist? This Frankie Presto guy, how did I miss him? How did my dad not discover him? And then I chided myself, it’s fiction geez! As a compliment to the author, I was so caught up in this story I believed it. Frankie’s life repaints musical history that actually happened during my lifetime. It was educational and evoking.

The book is about a musician, a great musician, who like so many others out there, don’t realize just how great they are. This man’s life has harsh beginnings, challenges at each age, but molds and shapes him into the legend he becomes. It’s told from the point of view of Music (as in the talent, music) as well as many other musicians, promoters and trade professionals. In my opinion, Music is akin to a god, (he explains how all the talents are represented, babies grab the ones they grab). I love the way Albom brings this entity to life, the narrator does an excellent job at bringing the pompousness to the talent Music without overdoing it. As an author, I can appreciate the POV and the tone one must have to write from multiple perspectives, specifically one that isn’t really a person. This book pulls it off perfectly and adds to the realism of this fictional saga. The musical guests on the audio also lent a factual feel and had me completely caught up in Frankie Presto’s life (By the way, Paul Stanley, you nailed it!)

Bottom line, this book is a love story. A love of music, a love between a man and a woman and a discovery of a love for life. Highly recommend.

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European Vacation – Venice, Italy

venice-italy-dwplatoI’ll never forget where I was when the doves cried. I had just boarded a jet, going to Europe, when I read Prince had died. The soundtrack of my first overseas flight immediately became purple, with a hint of blue. Rest in peace, Prince.

When I landed in Venice, Italy, the first thing I noticed was it looked a lot like Northern California, you know, right around Napa and Sonoma where wine grows on the vines perfectly. The weather was approximately the same for that time of year too, cloudy, cool and ready to bloom.

A cab from the Mestre, main land, to the island of Venice was next. The driver tried to explain to me with limited English that there were no cars in Venice and once he dropped me off, I would be on foot. A large expanded white bridge crested over the first canal. “That way.” He pointed after I had collected my roller bag. Several men with orange vests that read ‘official porter’ were anxious for my business but I assured them I could manage.

The sidewalks were crowded. Boats cruised back and forth on the canal. I found the alley I was to go down for our hotel. It felt old and worn, like the cobblestones under foot. The room was small-ish. I’ll admit, I’ve seen smaller, but for the two nights I’d be there, it was perfect. The view was terrible, it seemed our room looked into a courtyard that was used to store the items the hotel was not currently using, tools, machinery and supplies. Once settled in, I went back to the restaurant where the nice man had given me directions to my narrow, covert alley. It was early for the dinner crowd so I had the place to myself. When I eat out, often I ask the server what is good or what their favorite dish is, this night I asked my waiter, “If I could only have one meal in Venice, what would you recommend that is local and unique?”

“For you, American, I have just the thing.”

The host that had seated me came over and asked in broken English heavily laden with an Italian accent if was sure I wanted to try what the waiter had ordered for me. “It is … um … how you say … strong.” I smiled and nodded it was fine. My dish was a black spaghetti. Dark black with chunks of meat. A flavor most certainly of the ocean, it was indeed, STRONG. Half way through I asked, “How do they make it so black?”

“It is the ink of the squid.” I was told. Yes, that’s right squid ink.

Once dinner was over, I wandered through alleys and followed canals in and out, around and down, over and under bridges, taking in the sights and smells of Venice. The one thing that stood out as far as the aroma of the city was no matter what scent I was smelling, whether it a fruit stand, food from a restaurant or piss on the sidewalk, there was an ever present odor of cigarette smoke. It was the single biggest turn-off of this area.

At one point I heard music and a woman begin to sing, “I never meant to cause you any sorrow, I never meant to cause you any pain…” I jogged in and out until I found where the street musicians were playing and stood in the shadows and watched a small group of people hush and slip into a revered daze. “I only want to see you dancing in the purp-pal rain.” I was moved to tears. When she was done I approached and told her thank you, the song was very moving. She smiled and said, “No English.”


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I’m losing it

The New Year’s resolution that started it all…

When I was young, I had “That” kind of body, one that rivaled lingerie models. I was 5’9” by fifth grade and voted most likely to appear in Playboy when we were seniors. One of my favorite sayings as an adult is, “If I had the body I had then and the self-esteem I have now, I could take down small countries.” Anyway…

Of course I took my body for granted, blamed it on great DNA and went about my business, never counting calories or carbs, never setting foot into a gym nor having a regular workout regimen. Back then if anyone had asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told them an author. I wanted to write my own books and illustrate them too. Aw, those dreams that are put on the back burner. Are you familiar with that old saying, “youth is wasted on the young”? It’s true.

Life happens. Years rolled by. I had a baby, got married. I got comfortable in my job. Decades rolled by. My baby turned into an adult, my job changed. Life. Knowing the average woman gains approximately five pounds a year, I was pleased with myself when those years went by and I only gained 2-3 pounds, way below average, right? Okay, to be fair, there were a few years I gained more than average, 7-10 pounds. In the summer of 2014, I found the only clothes I could find that fit right were from the big and tall girl stores and I became a regular at Lane Bryant and Torrid. (Ever cried in a dressing room? You don’t really have to answer that out loud.) I reveled in the fact I was still buying the smallest sizes on those racks until those didn’t fit me anymore and I had to buy the next bigger size. At that point, I was fifty pounds more than the day I gave birth to my daughter. That’s right, fifty pounds heavier than I was when I was ten months pregnant! (seventy-two pounds heavier than when I conceived her.) What the hell?!? Right?!

“That does it!” I said in frustration in December of ’14, you know, that magical month that resolutions and promises fly from our mouths. 2015 was going to be my year. My goals were simple and attainable. I wanted to lose one pound a week (52 weeks = 52 pounds) and write my first novel. The strategy would be just as easy, I would work out (with an Insanity program I bought from the internet) 30 minutes a day and write 500 words a day. No sweat. (No pun intended-okay, maybe there was a pun intended right there, anyway…)

Everything was going along fine until June. I had reached my pound a month goal and was down twenty two pounds when I hit a plateau. I dug in, worked out harder, cut out more carbs, still the scale stayed steady. I was discouraged and sore. Then my daughter asked me one morning why I bought a dress a size too big. What? It wasn’t a new dress, I had it for years. I looked in the full length mirror. Yea, it did look a little baggy on the back side. Digging to the bottom of my closet, I found a size fourteen skirt that was just too cute to get rid of when I hit size eighteen. I slipped it on and the zipper went up without lying on the bed, in fact it was comfortable and I could sit and still breathe, a definite bonus. And, my novel was wrapping up, I found a love for writing and wrote more than five hundred words each day on a regular basis. (In fact, when I have a spare minute I find myself writing, it’s become an obsession.)

As we wrap up the first half of 2016, I’ve held steady at 199.8 pounds (which really does sound so much smaller than 200, right? And yea, easy math, I was up to 222.) I’ve found an exercise routine that works for me, not too much, not too little. I’ve kept off the twenty-two pounds and recently bought a pair of MEDIUM sized sweatpants. Total, I’ve lost 17” (one third of those off my big bootie) and finished a four-hundred forty-one page novel plus started a second one.

The realization I will most likely never be 150 pounds again, ever has become a reality for me; however, I love weighing less than my husband (this is the first time in our relationship I’ve been more than ten pounds lighter than him, we usually run about the same-within five or so pounds.) I love being in shape, my daughter used to like to tickle me until tears streamed from my eyes, but now she hesitates after her twenty year old self was taken down and tickled until she screamed mercy. It’s nice to feel strong, fit and healthy. And it’s never too late to start.