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Archive for May, 2009

Nike has a new ad campaign that’s pretty kick a**.  I caught them posted on FB and thought they were pretty cool. Actually I think anything that tells me it’s okay to have “thunder thighs” is awesome…a “muffin top” is a different story though. Since it’s kind of hard to read the phrases, I typed them out…my favorite, “those who might scorn it are invited to kiss it.” 

Thunder Thighs

nike thighs

I have Thunder Thighs and that’s a compliment because they are strong and toned and muscular and though they are unwelcome in the petite section, they are cheered on in marathons. Fifty years from now I’ll bounce a grandchild on my thunder thighs and then I’ll go out for a run.

Chicken Legs

nike legs

My legs were once two hairy sticks that weren’t very good at jump rope but by the time I reached the age of algebra, they had come into their own and now in spin class, they are revered, envied for their strength, honored for their beauty, hairless for the most part, except that place the razor misses just behind the ankles.

Scabby Knees

nike knees

My knees are tomboys. They get bruised and cut every time I play soccer. I’m proud of them and wear my dresses short. My mother worries I will never marry with knees like that. But I know there’s someone out there who will say to me “I love you and I love your knees.” I want the four of us to grow old together.

Hips Don’t Lie

nike hips 

My hips return to puberty when I’m in dance class. Music affects them like hormones making them crazy and spontaneous and optimistic and prone to drama and I don’t understand them and sometimes they don’t understand themselves. When the music stops they’re still charged. Don’t touch me. Sparks will fly.

 I Like Big Butts

 nike butt

My butt is big and round like the letter C and ten thousand lunges have made it rounder but not smaller and that’s just fine. It’s a space heater for my side of the bed. It’s my ambassador to those who walk behind me. It’s a border collie that herds skinny women away from the best deals at clothing sales. My butt is big and that’s just fine and those who might scorn it are invited to kiss it.

SWOOSH. Well done Nike.

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I can’t quite remember the first time I realized that my mom knew her stuff, but I do remember the phrase she used to show me. It’s one that has guided me through crushes, friendships, and disappointments – one that’s taught me that there’s only so much I can control before it (whatever it is) travels out of my hands.

“People do what they want to do…”

And you can’t control or change it, no matter how much you might pull your hair out trying. This simple sentence has over the years become a mantra for me to get through and deal with the people who frustrate, annoy, hurt and let me down – mainly because it’s true. 

People will say things a thousand different ways – to please you, to avoid confrontation, because it’s what they think you want to hear – but in the end, they’ll do exactly what they want to do regardless of its impact on you. It’s hard for some people to accept it (they’ll rationalize or make excuses for that person) and in the end, they’ll waste so much time and energy on someone who doesn’t really think of them much at all.

My mom told me this was a phrase Nana (not sure of how I’m actually related to her) used to say – an “ism” she’d spout off, one that made a lot of sense to Mom so that when I came to her crying about that boy in chem. class junior year or how my “best friend” started those rumors about that girl, it was the first thing that came to her mind.

“People do what they want to do, KT…and sometimes it sucks, sometimes it’s not at all what you want them to do, but more often than not, it’ll all work out and it’ll be for the better.”

So far she’s been right. So, thanks Mom. You do know your s**t.

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