The Boyfriend Diet

the loves of my life

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 14:14:43 -0600

the loves of my life

I can’t take credit for this photo, which is actually Mark...

Fri, 02 Dec 2011 23:50:19 -0600

I can’t take credit for this photo, which is actually Mark Allen Photography. But it is my niece I want to show off… My little gymnast :) (Taken with instagram)

"Needy women never get attention. So I’m going to be strong."

Mon, 14 Nov 2011 12:03:33 -0600

“Needy women never get attention. So I’m going to be strong.”

- Rebecca Faith

I was going through my old pictures… and I found a wallaby...

Sun, 13 Nov 2011 20:45:02 -0600

I was going through my old pictures… and I found a wallaby from a slideshow I did about moving to Australia. It is too cute. I would like one for Christmas.

Ice Cream: My memories of 9/11

Sun, 11 Sep 2011 18:44:08 -0500

Its been ten years, and like many, I remember that day so vividly. I don’t know why I remember so many details about that day as opposed to the day before or the day after.

My parents, brother and I were traveling in Italy. I believe we were driving from Genoa to Bedonia, which is a little town in Parma (like Parmesan cheese) where my Great Grandfather Luigi Bertani was born. I don’t remember the make of our rental car, but I remember it wreaked of its previous driver and cigarette smoke. It was an exceptionally hot day and the seats in the car were dark leather which made it all worse, and my mother hates air conditioning because it makes her arthritis hurt so … I had to endure the heat.

Now of course, none of us could speak or read Italian, so getting lost was part of our usual daily routine on our vacation. I swear we were lost while driving and took some crazy back road that wound around a mountain. Meanwhile, my mother blurted out, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we had some ice cream on this hot day?” Ever the optimist.

Of course it’d be nice. We were all miserable and Italian Gelato is pretty much the most amazing thing in the world, and we were in the sweltering heat of a smokers car driving up a mountain road that is windy, making us mildly nauseous, and at that moment nothing would have been a better refreshment than Ice Cream.

A few more minutes go by, and my mother can’t let it go and began singing “Ice Cream” from the musical “She Loves Me,” by Bock and Harnick. The day from hell just got worse. To top it off (that exceptionally annoying cherry on top of the whipped cream) my mother decided to pray out loud. “Dear God, please send us some ice cream on this hot day. Amen.”

Really? I was appalled. In my mind, God had better things to do than to send us ice cream. He doesn’t listen to petty prayers like that. For crying out loud, we were on a freaking mountain that had this tiny narrow road, we almost died about a hundred times, there is no ice cream or town in sight, why even bother praying for something so trivial.

At this point, we were still miserable, and my father decided to pick up the speed to get us to our destination faster. Not five minutes go by before my mother yelled, “STOP! TURN AROUND!” Who is this woman kidding? Here we were on a steep winding mountain, and she wanted us to turn around? So my father (who is an excellent driver) maneuvered our way back down the mountain just a few car lengths and sure enough, to our left, was a cafe with a sign in the window that said, Nestle.

We parked next to this small cafe, and walked in. There next to the register was a freezer, with all sorts of delicious frozen treats (none of which were Nestle but that doesn’t matter). We bought our ice cream, and walked to the outdoor seating on the balcony which looked over the valley. The view was incredible: a tiny village built on a mountain side, and down the valley. It truly was remarkable, but not as remarkable as our ice cream. Never had I appreciated ice cream more in my life, to this day.

After taking some pictures to document our miraculous finding of ice cream, we proceeded on our way and not long after that came to the town of Bedonia. Bedonia is small and I believe has one hotel/inn which we stayed at and were the only guests. The inn was beautiful, with a marble floor in the lobby, as well as a huge bar/restaurant to the left. In it’s day, I am sure this inn was the happening spot of that tiny town. Exhausted, my parents and I decide to lie down for a few minutes before we go to have dinner with our relatives. One of my cousins whom we were going to meet with later that day for dinner then called my father on his cell phone, and asked him, “Do you what happened to your country today?”

I didn’t know what the twin towers were, quite honestly, but I did find out very shortly. We met a few of our relatives at this small Irish Pub (an Irish Pub in a small Italian town. Strange, I know) and there we watched on the television screen the planes flying into the twin towers. My stomach dropped, and I remember thinking it couldn’t be real. Also at the pub were these women from New York and New Jersey crying…one of them had a family member who worked at the Towers.

I don’t remember much else from that night except being so confused and scared about what happened, wondering if we were going to get home safely or at all in a few weeks…the rest of our trip went by so smoothly. I saw the building in which my great grandfather was born. I dipped my feet in the mediterranean and washed off my shoes what had dog poop on them (different story involving crunching leaves… don’t do it at night in the dark). I rode for about 15 seconds in a gondola in Venice, and had birds land on my head in San Marco square.

I sometimes wonder where God was that day; how could something like that happen and all those innocent people die? But I suppose that could be said for a number of tragedies, from the Holocaust, to those dying of starvation in Somalia today. He knew we’d be needing comfort in that time of loss and fear, so he sent us ice cream. Now, ten years later, I still remember that day, though I do not always feel that same comfort. But, what I do know now though, is that no prayer is too small for God to listen to or answer.

128: The lame 'plateau' everyone talks about

Sat, 13 Aug 2011 21:31:16 -0500

We all have heard of the “plateau” in dieting/weight loss, right? The point after you’ve easily (or maybe not so easily) have lost that first 15 pounds, and then you just sort of, well, plateau: you stay the same no matter what you do.

So here’s where I’m at. The first few months of the boyfriend diet did wonders! I went from 144 to 132 like nobody’s business. And then… slowly… those damn 4 pounds have come off officially. WHY AM I STILL BIG.

Alright. After a short hiatus from The Boyfriend Diet Blog (many apologies. I was in another country and now am having separation anxiety from The Boyfriend) I must get back on the bandwagon. The key is: Change. Or maybe the key is Variety. Either way.

I decided to dye my hair today in hopes of inspiration to my new ‘look’ of the future me, and maybe I’ll want to work out harder.

Here she is— my new ride. She needs a name now, since...

Fri, 29 Jul 2011 00:13:17 -0500

Here she is— my new ride.

She needs a name now, since Marlon Brando (my civic) died.

Any suggestions?

New haircut…. New adventures

Wed, 20 Jul 2011 22:35:55 -0500

New haircut…. New adventures

The Art of being an Artist

Wed, 06 Jul 2011 14:37:30 -0500

I learned a lot of things in my undergrad:

If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. If you’re late, you’re fired.

I also learned that:

To go up, you must go down.

(Whatever that’s supposed to mean).

But one of the most important things I learned about myself is this: I am an Artist. I’m not a painter; I am physically incapable of anything essentially within the fine arts realm. No, I am not a fine arts artist. But… I am a musician. I am a singer. I am an actor. I am a dancer.

I was told that I was an artist by my first semester acting teacher, and it was explained to me and told to me in such a way, as though this was such important information to never forget. It was as a revelation that needed to be kept close to heart at all times.

What I am is something that not all people will ‘get’ or ‘understand.’ Much like how ‘hands on’ people learn differently than ‘audio learners,’ or ‘visual learners,’ artists feel things and observe life differently than non-artists. Essentially, I remember being told that as an artist, and particularly as an artist in the entertainment industry, our families most likely will not fully understand us, or what it is that we feel we need to do, or our constant need to create.

It didn’t really register for me what this meant until this year. What some people may consider to be minor or trivial things, sometimes I take with great seriousness. Some things that maybe cause no second thought or glance to some can deeply affect me. Every emotion I feel is never half-assed…It is always full fledged. Some might call it bipolar or some other mental disorder. And maybe for some, that’s what it is. But I believe its because I am not like your average Joe. But it suddenly made sense to me this year—why no one in my family understands the feelings I feel, or the reasons I do things the way I do them. Or why I can’t seem to find where I belong; Why no state I’ve lived in has brought contentment; Why getting accepted into 3 schools in IE still have not made me excited; Why I am absolutely terrified of the unknown.

It can be a truly lonely existence. And I imagine I’ll always feel this loneliness, this knowing that unless I’m in the presence of artists (but even then we can still be so unalike) I shall never be understood. Maybe I can become numb to this loneliness. The drive for artistry is an art entirely in itself, and I don’t know if any artist has truly mastered it. It could be that it is against our nature. But there it is—there are the cards out on the table.

Day 26: A blog that makes you happy

Wed, 29 Jun 2011 22:45:00 -0500

Day 26: A blog that makes you happy :

Not so much a blog that makes me happy, but it’s a blog that I definitely read every day, and I have so much respect for Bryan Kemper. He’s an incredible person, faithful follower of Christ, I know he’s a good father and a good husband, and he stands up for what he believes in and lives his faith daily. Bryan is sick.

Day 25: Post a picture of a sticky note with something sentimental or...?

Wed, 29 Jun 2011 22:36:19 -0500

I’m leaving for Ireland tomorrow. Day 25 will have to wait until I have access again to sticky notes/post-its. Onto Day 26…

Day 24: Dedicate a post to someone telling them what you think of them.

Wed, 29 Jun 2011 22:27:41 -0500

This post is dedicated to The Boyfriend, but not as The Boyfriend—this post is dedicated to him as my friend.

Firstly, I don’t believe in my life I have laughed as much as I have in the last few months because of him. He is also one of the hardest working persons I have ever met, and his dedication to his work and his goals blows me away and is humbling for me.

Secondly, he loves my dog, Sawyer (aka: soy pickle, soy box, etc.) And Sawyer LOVES him! The other day when The Boyfriend came over, I warned him that Sawyer would probably be so excited that’d he’d pee, and sure enough… Sawyer peed.

He also doesn’t take my crap; he keeps me ‘in check’ about pretty much everything I’m being ridiculous about and listens and thinks logically. He’s a problem solver. He is free spirited, and spontaneous, which is exciting and kind of scary at the same time because I used to think that I was spontaneous but now I look like an anal-retentive OCD planner of things.

I am so blessed to have him in my life as my friend. God knows I needed someone after moving back home from college to bring me back to normal life. I have learned so much— patience, understanding, perspective, and constantly looking forward to the next thing and making new goals and following my dreams. To The Boyfriend—to Kevin, this post is dedicated to you <3

Day 23: An Activity you find fun. I love traveling. And I will...

Thu, 23 Jun 2011 12:38:16 -0500

Day 23: An Activity you find fun.

I love traveling. And I will be flying Air Canada in a week from today from San Francisco, CA to Dublin, IE (with a 5 hour layover in Toronto. Thankfully, I just learned from my friend Emily that Canada and the U.S. use the same electrical outlets, so I can charge my computer and phone while I’m waiting at the airport).

Day 22: A picture that gives you hope. I looked up...

Mon, 20 Jun 2011 11:23:52 -0500

Day 22: A picture that gives you hope.

I looked up “Hope” on Google for kicks and giggles and I saw this and had to post it. That puppy has wheels! But actually, the second picture is a 1960 post-war Steinway Piano, $55,000. Someday I’ll own a Steinway and create beautiful music….

“I know a fine way to play a Steinway…”

Day 21: A picture of the last time you were happy

Fri, 17 Jun 2011 12:07:00 -0500

I’ve been happy a lot since this picture. I don’t really have that many recent pictures, but I thought I should post a picture anyway since I’m slacking on this blog and this 30 day challenge crap that I am clearly not following accurately.

This is a picture of me drinking coffee at a Starbucks in Port Stewart (Northern Ireland). I’ll be back in Ireland 2 weeks from today, which is so exciting yet at the same time causing a lot of anxiety as I get ready to go. Please keep me in your prayers these next two weeks…

"I must create a system or be enslaved by another man’s. I will not reason and compare: my..."

Wed, 08 Jun 2011 22:56:17 -0500

“I must create a system or be enslaved by another man’s. I will not reason and compare: my business is to create.”

- William Blake

Day 20: Define "Happiness" in your own words

Wed, 01 Jun 2011 19:28:01 -0500

Money can’t buy happiness, but having no money can make one unhappy. Why is that?

I’m told that happiness is being content. I want to clarify however, and make sure that whoever is reading this doesn’t think that I think that happiness is being content because you’ve settled. I will only settle for the best. Not second best, not third place, but the best, whatever that may be. So hopefully, those who are keeping tabs on my life will know that I am doing what I believe is best, and am striving to be the best in whatever it is I may be doing, from my job, to my pastimes.

With that said, happiness is something that I am continuing to learn and believe in. I have been happy plenty of times in my life, but it is something that tends to come and go based on the circumstances. I have been unhappy more frequently than I would like to admit, and this is something I am trying to change. Happiness is all about perspective. You can always look at the glass being half empty, but it is so limiting to think that way. What if we continuously dared to look at the glass being half full? Think of the possibilities that could come from that.

I’d like to steal from “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” in saying:

Happiness is anyone and anything at all that’s loved by you.

Maybe this isn’t entirely true. But if you love something or someone, surely that will evoke happiness.

Day 19: Something you found when searching ‘Love’ on...

Mon, 30 May 2011 00:04:39 -0500

Day 19: Something you found when searching ‘Love’ on tumblr.

Ok. For reals, I looked and looked, but I don’t think anything I found compared to this picture from my walk today with Sawyer… I love him so much, and no matter how frustrated he makes me, and how irritated I get at him, he still loves me too. The other day I woke up and he was sleeping on my boob and it was the most adorable thing in the world and it made me so happy. There his little head was. Right there. Just sleeping. I love my little Soy-Shaker (one of his nicknames from The Boyfriend).

Day 18: Something on your dash that makes you happy

Fri, 27 May 2011 01:02:06 -0500

My dash does not contain a lot of things, but there is a “Reagan ‘84” pin that I stole from my dad. It is pretty legendary.

Day 17: What inspires you?

Fri, 27 May 2011 00:54:07 -0500

(This one is deep. I’m inspired by so many things).

I’m inspired by my friends. From my coworkers who make my days merry and bright, to my family members: there are so many people who inspire me and encourage me to move forward and be the best I can be. From my workout buddies Kelsey and Elle, to my pillars of strength, Beckie, and Marti. From Wendy, the person who has been there forever and no matter how much time and distance separates us, she is always there to pick up right where we left off, to my sister Rachel who teaches me patience with myself and with others (and how to cook. So inspiring!)

I’m inspired by Music. Opera, Musicals, Contemporary, Rock, Rap, and everything in between. We talk about singing in the musical theatre world, as the moments where the emotions are so great, there is nothing else to do but sing. Music is a language unto itself that speaks to my soul on so many levels.

I’m inspired by my Dad. He is always fighting the good fight, and never ever giving up.

I’m inspired by the boyfriend. He is genuine, adventuresome, and makes me laugh like no one else can. He is so dedicated to what he does from work to working out and is fully committed to his goals, and that is inspiring and it reminds me to do the same.

There are a lot of things that inspire me too that are superficial. For example, new makeup. A fresh pot of coffee. A clean dog. Dropping a pant size. Crossing things off a list. As I said, I am inspired by so many things, and for all that inspire me, I am so thankful. It is all of you who make me excited to wake up the next day and to see what awaits: Carpe Diem!