jwjourney.com

It was not quite 15 years ago that I marched out of Casual Corner – no, stomped out – because they didn’t carry a size 2. The sales woman had the gall to tell me that maybe I should look elsewhere, perhaps a store specializing in petite clothing. Sure, you witch, petite means short, not skinny.

Those were the days…the days I thought I was fat so I’d eat popcorn for lunch and buttered noodles for dinner. The lean days. The days before Atkins when wine was reserved for dinners out with the girls and full dinners only happened if some guy was picking up the check.

And then I married. I became fat and happy. This is true. And then when my happiness was brimming over like champagne bubbles on New Years Eve, I was able to nit-pick my life and realize how much I hate PR - my SECOND career of choice….how I hate to brownnose the media types (my husband excluded) and that, frankly, I was never very good at it. So I returned here ...to the comfortable forest of my writing career. I live like a homeless person in its weathered leaves and shaded corners. It’s so good to be home.

My friend Wendi tells me that happiness is key. Happiness, to us, is a well prepared dish and a bottomless glass of choice wine. She said this last month when she – well, this is what she told me at least – let her eating habits go where they will. She said she was in her big girl jeans. I’ve seen her in her big girl jeans and it’s not that scary. It’s easy for her to say how miserable she is feeling, her waistband pressed against her belly button. If her life is like the past two years, she is soon to make her amends to the giant, brimming wine bottle and noodle bowl. She will fast from alcohol and all things BAD for the entire month of January. For this, she is my January Idol.

There will be no 12-week TV competition for this. I’ve already crowned her my Idol. I may make a calendar. Post the pictures of all my inspirational gal-pals for each month of the year. Wendi, my dear, will always be my January. 

Here’s to you, Wen