Where’d Melisa go?

I’m here! I’m still here!

I’m just over hangin’ out at a new place now. You can find out what I’ve been up to here:

If you still want to read about my random ramblings (randlings?), I hope you’ll stop by for a visit!

In the meantime, be good to each other. This is it, guys. The only chance we’ve got.


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living on the edge: then vs. now.

I’ve never actually been much of a daredevil. I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was well into my 10th year, and to this day I’m still a bit wobbly. Also, I can’t go underwater without holding my nose.

Even with my cautious shortcomings, I was still able to dance near the “edge” in my youth a time or two:

I can count at least three times that I pulled all-nighters, and they had nothing to do with meeting deadlines. Heck, I may have even “inhaled” once (sorry, Mom). See? Edgy, right?

But now? Here’s what “living on the edge” looks like for a 38-year-old mother with a mortgage and a 401K:

That’s me, the SECOND TO LAST CAR to make it onto the ferry this morning. THAT, my friends, is how living on the edge is DONE. You know, for the older set. It was touch-and-go, people.

If that’s not proof enough that I know how to roll all Moms Gone Wild, this afternoon I ate a pre-packaged chicken caesar salad that expired THREE DAYS AGO. Of course, I tossed the chicken for fear of E. coli and got a second opinion from our office manager on whether or not the rest of the salad should be consumed because she’s my mom’s age and is still alive so clearly knows how to steer clear of death-enducing bacteria but still.


The moral of the story is I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t trade this safe, quiet, simple life for one single thing.

Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a pair of fuzzy slippers calling my name.

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ally mcbeal made me start running again.

I know, right? You’re thinking, “Whoa. Blast from the shoulder pad past.”

It’s true, though. Hear me out:

If you’ve stopped by before you know that I used to do a fair share of running. Lots of running. But then

I had some pelvic flare up thing happen
and I moved to an island with so many hills
and work got really busy
and I favor the naps.

Basically, I procrastinated my way right out of running. Don’t lose hope on me just yet, though. I’m still doing regular exercise, sometimes even two days in a row, just not running.

I hope you’re sitting down because what I’m about to say borders on crazy:

I actually started to miss running.


I realized I could MAKE time for exercise, but I still had those pesky hills to contend with. I don’t mean to bring Debbie Downer to the table but no joke, those hills are a serious running buzz kill.

I’ve never been a huge fan of treadmills mostly because I lack complete and total coordination and am always worried I’m going to fly off the back. Plus there’s the poke-your-eye-out boredom factor.

The running itch wouldn’t go away though so I hit up my pal Craig and his helpful list.

Sure enough, with just a few clicks, I found this:

Disclaimer: that is not our garage. Disclaimer, part 2: ours is just as messy, though.

After saying a few prayers that it was a legit listing and not a Dateline scam, I hightailed it on over.

And bought it. Right then and there.

“How does Ally McBeal factor into all this, Melisa?”

Great question. I’m getting to it.

I knew that I would die a 10-minute mile death if I ran without some form of distraction to keep me, well, distracted. So that sweet hub o’ mine installed a SHELF, people. A SHELF. Right on the wall in front of the treadmill, perfectly positioned for my laptop and Netflix.

I knew I had to pick a series that John wouldn’t be interested in. We run a democracy around here when it comes to TV programs. For years my mom has been trying to get me to watch AMB. I even gave it a try once but I just couldn’t get past the dancing babies.

But desperate times being what they are, and knowing John wouldn’t come near this show with a 10-foot pole, I (reluctantly, sorry Mom) gave it a try.

Shock of all shocks, I like it! I really like it! I’ve even had some LOL moments, though I can’t tell how loud I’m laughing because I have earbuds in. Though I think I can hear John chuckling at me (near me?) in the background.

So, there you have it. I’m a runner again, thanks to the shoulder-pad-wielding blonde lawyer.

Stay tuned.

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time to come clean.

First, I need to come clean about my radio silence in the blogosphere. Well, I guess I don’t really NEED to, but I want to. Because I’d hate for anyone to lose any more sleep wondering where I’ve gone.

Wait, what? You’ve been sleeping like a baby this whole time? Ahem. Let’s move along.

When you spend the better part of your life being a professional procrastinator like moi, you begin to develop a few quirks. I prefer to call them habits.

A big “habit” for me is to assume that my mind won’t be able to distinguish the difference between SAYING I’m going to do something and actually DOING IT. For example, if I TELL the world that I’m going to complete 50 marathons by age 50 then, well, my mind just picks right up, gives itself a hearty pat on the ol’ back and moves on.

Just like that. Done and done.

Never mind the pesky little fact that I’ve only completed eight marathons and have no intention of doing another one. My MIND thinks I’ve done it, so we’re all good, right?


So fast-forward to today. Here we are in early February of a brand-new year, and I have honored myself for AN ENTIRE MONTH with healthy living. Drinking lots of water. Moving my body every day. Putting good fuel into my body. Flossing.

Every. Single. Day.

So, I’ve been scared. Of my own mind. That might sound silly to all the intrinsically-motivated souls out there who can’t imagine starting their day without a good sweat and who thinks that EVERYONE flosses their teeth 365 days a year, but not for me.

It’s not that easy, and it never has been.

On the flip side, I don’t want to hide behind my fears because frankly, I’m proud of myself for making healthy changes and I want to talk about it!*

*Disclaimer: the plus side of being a lifetime member of the Procrastination Club is that folks are conditioned to expect a fizzle out of motivation and drive. Therefore, I consider all of this a win-win in my court.

The other half of this coming clean business is all the exciting new things I’m learning about, well, EATING CLEAN. As a family, we are making more and more of the “right” choices and man, does it feels good.

Here’s a snapshot of what a typical day is looking like for me:


Fresh egg (straight from our very own chickens!), 2 slices of lean turkey bacon, 1/2 cup of organic berries, 1 slice of sprouted Ezekiel cinnamon/raisin bread, and a cup of coffee with organic half-n-half and 1 Splenda packet.*

*Disclaimer: yes, I sure do know that Splenda is the devil but there are a couple of areas where I am struggling to satisfy my sweet tooth without loading up on sugar, the devil’s wife. Suggestions are welcomed.

SNACK #1 (I’m a snacker, I can’t help it):

1/2 cup organic baby carrots with 2 T. homemade hummus (I made it myself, people! That’s right.)


I sprinkled pepper on the top in the hopes it would look a bit less Exorcist-y in the picture. A food blogger, I am not. You’ll just have to take my word that it tasted good.

1 cup Amy’s Split Pea Soup (note: I am this close to making my own and freezing it. Stay tuned.) + 1 slice sharp cheddar cheese and 1 banana bran muffin (also homemade! I AM ON FIRE.)


For the love of fiber! In my haste to get it in m’belly, I forgot to take a picture.

1 organic apple with 1 T. almond butter


Ok, then. I am quickly realizing that my food choices look like anything but Kodak moments. Let’s just go on blind faith here, shall we?

1 cup homemade chili + 1 slice sharp cheddar cheese


Oops. These were camera-shy too.

4 dark chocolate almonds + cup of Good Earth tea.

Eating 6x/day might seem like crazy-talk to some people, but this cat needs her some snacks or she’ll go loco and start talking about herself in the third person. Trust me, she can tell you it’s not pretty.

I’m also tracking my daily food and exercise on myfitnesspal.com. Stalkers welcome!

P.S. In unrelated news, I do our grocery shopping for the entire week (including all breakfasts, myriad snacks, lunches, dinners, etc.) on Sundays. It is an INTRICATE PROCESS. I consult our social calendar, after-school activities, factor in left-overs and what-not. It takes forever and I’m always so glad when it’s done. I put all of the information into my trusty spiral steno pad and head off on Sunday to geterdone.

Well, I was SUPER on my A-game on Saturday and got everything prepared and ready for shopping the next day. And then I promptly lost my steno pad. Poof. Gone. I was so distraught. I had our 6-year-old turning the house upside down. It never did turn up and I had to start all. over. again. But? Even though I was über annoyed and possibly cranky for a solid 20 minutes to 2 hours, I had to check myself and realize that in the Grand Scheme Of Life, that was really nothing. Even though it felt like a big, annoying something at the time.

Does this every happen to you? Please say yes.



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helllllloooooo, internet!


Talk about radio silence. I’ve been off the blog for over a month now, and I was feeling really bad and guilty about it for the first couple of weeks, but then I remembered my tendency for procrastination and then I decided that anyone who might follow along with me regularly would be surprised if I DIDN’T flake out at some point, so I felt I had pretty much set the world right.


Anyway. I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, Christmas and is coming up on a great New Year.

I’m not one to set resolutions, for obvious reasons, but I do like to spend some time thinking about the coming year and focusing on doing better.

On being better.

Using my life. Smiling at strangers. Spreading joy whenever I can. Not taking one precious moment for granted.

A hopeless sap? Maybe.


And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What are you hoping for in 2013? I’d love to hear from you!

Until then, I wish you and yours the very very best.


P.S. You know I couldn’t sign off without at least one picture. You’re welcome.

What does joy look like on Christmas morning? THIS.

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