Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,but that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.
And, as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Nelson Mandela, 1994 Inaugural Speech, (a quote from Marianne Williamson)

so about that beach...

In the same breath that I praised the beach - I'll curse it.

I climbed on my old friend the treadmill today and was met with the hip hop tunes of the Backstreet Boys on my iPod. As if that wasn't painfully reminiscent enough - sharp pains began shooting down my shins. Hellooooooo shin splints! As if things couldn't get worse....

You see - deep inside I was disappointed with myself. I had watched an "I'm-getting-older-and-things-are-hurting-and-aching-and-sagging" special on Oprah and was beginning to think that 25 was the beginning of a loooooong road of Icy Hot, colonoscopies, and decreased libido. "Heck," I thought - "I haven't even been given the option to exercise my libido yet!" As if these thoughts weren't humiliating enough - I suddenly felt a slight wave of flatulence coming on.

Oh - don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. We all fart. Poot. Cut the cheese. Pass Gas. Toot. Whatever term your mother deemed permissible. It's a very natural thing.

So - I'm running and my iPod is blaring. I'm pondering such deep thoughts as: did I not say hi to someone in the hallway because I have crappy peripheral vision when I wear my glasses and I couldn't see him/her? I hope they don't think I'm stuck up! crrrrap - I don't think I called that guy back about that retarded luncheon tomorrow...

Suddenly - I feel the reverberations of aforementioned flatulence off of the cinder block walls. I want to look around and see if anyone heard - but that would immediately incriminate myself. The second problem is this: I have no idea if it was a noisy little bugger or not because my stupid iPod was blaring, "Show me the meaning of being looonely...Is this the feeling I need to walk with?"

and just like that... my world comes crashing down around me. I had kept it afloat for almost four hours. A record for the month of March.

yeah for the beach! and for learning how to of upload pics to my blog! I know... I know.... the rest of the free world has been at it for awhile now. But, you see, last time I tried to upload (before Al Gore went on his save-the-planet tirade....) one had to use PhotoBucket or some weird thing like that. It was oddly reminiscent of when eBay may you use MisterLister to host photos. Those were the days....

I remember late, late nights with my mom. We'd sit in front of the computer and upload photo after photo of the oldest books on the planet. I thought I'd always be doing that. But - lookey there! Mom has taught herself alllllllll about photo uploading and more. Ten years later, that online bookstore is still thriving. She (Mom) claims to be the first eBay-er in Laneville. I'm just waiting on her to get a MySpace account. And post pictures of Momma before she was Momma...smoking weed in Tijuana...

If you don't listen to country music - that last comment was so over your head. Bless your heart.

So - back to the beach. It was cold. And windy. I think I wore that all too itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny tropical bikini for a grand total of 30 minutes. And... another sad truth - the itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny tropical wasn't that itsy bitsy when I bought it. Hmmm.... maybe I'll pass on that second round of sweet tea and/or Dr. Pepper at lunch tomorrow. And ship those blasted Girl Scout cookies to my sister.