"It's the most wonderful time..."

I'm blogging on break from an assignment that was supposed to be over a looooooooong time ago.

But I'm blogging in clothes I bought in 2006. Yeah, it could sound like I'm some cheap bastard. But I'm not.

In 2006, I'd sort of kept off the weight I lost my last year in college from walking everywhere (didn't buy a car for a reason) and bought a crapload of clothes.

A year later, none of them fit.

Then in January, my boy Kyle and I (along with a few other stragglers) took to getting our bodies right for the new year. Kyle looks like a string bean with a big head. Robbyn, my homie and also Kyle's woman, is trying to bring sexy back with flowing dresses and other clothing that fits to form.

Me? It's been a little more rough. I was told early on to concentrate on cardio so that I could lose more weight early on. "It'll make it easier to gain stamina for the long fight you're in," I was told.

I'm down nearly 80 pounds since Jan. 1. It worked right? Right?

It did, but my body is still out of wack. That's why I've hired a trainer for the sculpting. I mean, I may still look odd to myself, but it won't be the same way to others.

And, eventually, I'll be throwing away the clothes I've kept in the back of the closet since 2006. Cuz a shopping trip will be in order.

Deadline's approaching

With RibFest about 10 weeks away, and me stalling on the weight loss, I've decided to get a trainer.

Again.

This time, it won't be someone out to jump start my process, or someone trying to break into the personal training realm.

Taylor, the manager at my gym, has a girlfriend who does personal training. I dunno if Nancy's gonna work for me tho. I tried meeting with her co-worker (the guy), to see what he was about. He tried to call me a week later setting up some appointment. Procrastination is a pet peeve of mine. Especially when I'm about to pay you $50 a session.

Needless to say Roger never got a return call.

So I was passing by the desk on Friday, chatting with the attendant as usual, when she mentioned there was a new guy training with the gym. Seems they had gotten rid of one of their trainers and this guy was able to step up.

I was glad for the new blood.

And it was ironic that Roger's cards were no longer on display.

We'll see how this works.

Almost, but not quite

I still remember this whole quarter-life crisis e-mail that was being sent around to all my friends when I turned 25. It was given to me by my good friend Tamara. She told me to stop fretting and that things were going well.

It's been two years, and I still don't think so.

It's not that I'm a pessimist or anything, but I have this feeling I should've been somewhere else by 27.

Sure, I have a great job, a great group (READ: Dysfunctional) of friends and some of the best (again, dysfunctional) family members in the world.

But 10 years ago, this isn't what I had mapped out.

In 1997, I wrote somewhere that I wanted to be married with child No. 2 on the way. I wanted to live in a house with my wife where we both took care of home with our perspective jobs. I wanted to be in the best shape of my life because that's what tennis was going to bring me.

I'm making more than I thought I would be by now. The house is deferred til next year because of credit rebuilding. That wife and kids thing hasn't happened. And I'm in the best shape of... the last three years.

There's some good and some bad, but it's not how I'd mapped it out.

My question is this: Why do we strive for what we want instead of what makes us happy?

I'm leaving behind what we had... yesterday...

Something told me to just space myself, then restart my old blog.

I couldn't do it. You know me.

There was some energy in that old system that refused to let go. Let's see: There was the time my mom was offended, a very good friend of mine and I parted ways, blog wars began between four people, and someone got arrested over something I wrote.

OK, that last part didn't happen.

But I've been really busy with my new job and trying to jump start a relationship, so I figured the people whose phone calls go unreturned can be filled in here.

Welcome. This is my new sanctuary. I'm about to lay back, turn on some Full Force (or Shai, depending on the mood), and let it take me where it wants.

I'm still losing weight. I'm about 20 pounds off where I wanted to be at this point, but I'm still down a whole lot since the year started. YAY ME!

I'm still struggling with self-esteem issues. Just because I sound cocky doesn't mean I am (unless it's about some journalism stuff... lol). I need to know where things stand. I mean, who doesn't mind hearing that they're cute every once in a while (from the right people)?

I'm still struggling for balance in this crazy industry I love so much. Hence the job change. The jury's still out, by the way.

Welcome back. And as Queen Latifah said in Taxi, "Buckle up, muthaf.....!"