I've taken my fair share of risks in life. As a planner (understatement), I try to be as calculated as possible but there have been a few times -- life changing times -- I didn't see it coming...and did it anyway. The first was 1994. I was a senior in high school, and I wasn't sure what was going to happen that fall. I'd been wait-listed at one college, denied from another, and since I spent the year proving I could shoot Busch pounders, there weren't many other prospects. I got an acceptance letter from a school in North Carolina the third week of June. I do not even remember applying. So I went. Sight unseen, packed up my bags and drove 500 miles and eight hours South. Culture shocked, utterly displaced, and knowing no one, I started my college career at Elon. Yes, that Elon. The beautiful, top-ranked, well-funded private University I could not get into if I were a high school senior today. You could say that worked out. Fast forward eight years. I'm liv...

Mrs. Saunders here. Back from my wedding and honeymoon a changed woman, and I'm not talking about my name or newly lost virginity. A brief recap... It's been one clusterf*ck of a month. I haven't driven a car, worked out, gone to work, or killed a bottle of wine in 30 days. I did however manage to get married and take a Hawaiian vacation with my husband. Yes, my hussssband. Miracles somehow never cease. I cruised through my wedding stone cold sober and exhausted, trying my best to smile and knowing this is only going to happen once in my lifetime. Or it's supposed to. I sure hope I looked the part. As a little girl dreaming of my wedding, it was never about the dress or even the man. I was more focused on the fact that this would be the one and only time all the people I loved would be forced to watch me dance for four hours. All those years of dance class and numerous hours viewing Dance Fever, Solid Gold, In Living Color, and Soul Train culminating in my gol...

There is only so much bad TV a girl can watch. While I have appreciated becoming intimately familiar with Say Yes to the Dress, The Millionaire Matchmaker, Stacey and Clinton, all the guest chefs on Chopped and at least 15 different movies, I'm becoming bored and itchy for more action. Sadly, it took me a week to get here, but in my defense I have been sleeping 15-16 hours a day. In keeping with the forcefully re-iterated advice of my doctor from my post-op appointment, I'm avoiding physical activity and stress. Which means no cleaning or work, the things that normally fill 90% of my time. With the wedding just five days away, I turned to arts and crafts. It's my mental speed right now, and it requires me only to sit up. Despite feeling like the special needs child given protective scissors and an edible glue stick, I've made some pretty nifty items. There's the programs for the ceremony, the wine cork place cards, the old wine bottles dressed up and turned ta...

Today I cried over my pumpkin pancakes. I managed to walk (slowly) up the street and have breakfast in a public place with my very soon-to-be-husband. They were exceptionally yummy, but something tells me they weren't the root cause of my tears. Those pancakes were warm and comfortable, safe. In comparison, while I am frequently warm these days, I do not feel comfortable in my skin. One week ago today I was awaiting the results of a CAT scan that I didn't realize would change me forever. I cried, and continue to, over the loss of myself. I realize it sounds dramatic. I have questioned frequently this past week as to whether or not what happened to me was really all that bad. Whether or not I have license to feel the way I do so strongly. I mean, I don't have cancer, a tumor, or other terminal illness. I'm apparently quite healthy and just in need of a little healing. And I'm still here, right? Where I've landed is that it wasn't the end of the world,...

I'm not me. I don't know where she went. And I'm terrified. I've been very good about doing all the things I should and shouldn't. There's the first problem. I'm not checking email for work, I'm letting things go around the house, and just laying on the couch (bed, or chair depending on time of day). Because I have no choice. Yesterday, because I wasn't feeling too bad in the morning I decided to don my Wonder Woman cape and claim my title. I ended up in my Wonder Woman underoos, a pathetic imposter. I attempted to shower. At the end of this event, I was sweating, dizzy, and in crazy pain. I then slept for six hours. You think this would stop me. Nope. I fielded three calls from vendors with simple questions about the wedding and basically had a breakdown crying and blubbering "I can't handle it". Did I stop there? Nope. Checked the work email. Same experience. Alarmingly overwhelmed by something that in the grand scheme of my job w...

I'm feeling really sorry for myself. I'm doped up on pain killers, watching my stomach turn nine shades of purple and fighting on and off bouts of nausea and headaches. Not how I expected to spend my weekend, or Monday for that matter I suppose. Especially not two weeks before my wedding. And I stink. But it could be worse. I almost died Friday. During this interval of lucidity I'll attempt to tell you why. I warn you, this isn't pretty because it wasn't. And some may ask why I choose to write about it. Well, for one, I certainly don't want to talk about it, and two writing always makes me feel better. Like I can put it past me once it's on paper. I didn't feel well. I left the office around noon, and worked from home. I did a little yoga around six and felt better, so we went to dinner. Around 11pm I felt a demon invade my lower abdomen and try to pull every organ out through my belly button. I fell asleep, or maybe passed out, due to the severity o...

Ah blogs...perpetual storybooks living on the web telling of who you were and what you did at that point in your life. I recently revisited Thirty One Pursuits. Many of you were with me on this journey, a journey that I defined through a list of "Thirty One Things to Do Before 32". It's how I started blogging. I wrote it during one of the most difficult years of my life, something not many readers knew at the time. I hated my job, despised myself, my relationship was ending, and nothing was as I expected it would be at the age of 31. Here I am three years later, and my what a difference 1/3 of a decade can make. Or not. Several things on my original list are still incredibly relevant, and others not so much. So I decided to revisit it, and update my progress. Three years later. 1) Keep going to the gym: THEN: There is no need. I have bouts of depression, work stress, man trouble and a red wine diet to keep me looking fabulous. NOW: I can assure you three years ma...