Dear Booty, I dedicate this post to you...

I’ve always had some junk in the trunk, my whole life. I had a small waist, dark hair and a BOO-TAY!  As a young girl, it baffled me and I spent a good portion of my childhood wishing for narrow boy-like hips, fair skin, blonde hair and a normal name like the rest of my playground companions. 

Instead, I had dark hair, a weird “made-up” name and a big butt.  At the age of ten I was one of the first to shave my legs because my hair was so dark and more visible than my schoolmates and I was self-conscious about it. My grandmother shaved my legs on the back porch with an Epilady, a modern torture device, which essentially ripped the virgin hair from my legs follicle by follicle. My grandmother thought I wanted to grow up too fast. I just didn't want to be different. 

I can remember, too, cringing with awkward embarrassment every time my mother shouted my full name into the cul-de-sac  at dinner time.

“Keia Calei Mastrianni!!”  I hated that. 

I was different. I was always different. Adopted from South America, I had Latina DNA coded for curves.  I was born in Santiago, Chile not Ohio or Wisconsin or some other place that made cheese and Anglican girls. I was always disappointed on road trips when I couldn’t find my name on the touristy rack of plastic keychains that sold to girls with names like Katie, Susan and Sarah.

You know what I wanted my name to be? Elizabeth.  Yes, Elizabeth.  Today, it sounds so milky-white and boring but, at the time, it sounded so normal and nice and, in my pre-adolescent brain, it was a name fit for a princess.  

As I grew older, I began to relate more with the Fly Girls on In Living Color and less with my Barbie dolls and the blonde girls that I admired in school. I can remember J. Lo bursting onto the scene wearing a gold-scripted necklace with her name on it and proudly sporting her big ol’ booty.  I had a gold scripted necklace too. It was gift given to me by my godmother when I was born and it had my name on it.

At 23, I had an epiphany. I was 123 pounds, the thinnest I had ever been, a P.Y.T. going out to the club in low-rise jeans and midriff shirts and yet, my backside  never changed shape or disappeared.  My derriere was a permanent fixture and part of what made me, Me! I began to embrace my God-given curves.

These days, I’m proud to have a caboose.  Two fine hams in the back of my pants. My lady lumps power me uphill when I’m training for a marathon and they are my ally during an intense Crossfit workout.  It’s why Sir Mix-A Lot was like poetry back in the day and why I still love this song with all my heart.

My curves used to embarrass me as a child. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t made like all the other girls. Today,  I wouldn’t have it any other way. My curves are my gold-scripted necklace with my name on it.  It’s who I am.  It’s funny too. The most common thing I hear when the catcalls come is, “Where are you from?” I’m guessing they know it’s not Ohio or Wisconsin or some other place that makes cheese and Anglican girls.

 Do you have a feature or part of you that made you feel different growing up? What parts of you do you love today that you didn't in the past? Feelgood February is about embracing these parts of you and loving yo'self! 

Holy smokes! It's February 16 and the Inside Job has yet to make an appearance for the month.  Shame on me. 
After spending the month of January organizing and creating some much needed space in my head and in my home, the next logical step that popped up was my physical well-being. My lovely lady lumps. 

Thus, dear readers (ahem, Courtney), I give you Feelgood February. A whole month (or, what's left of it) dedicated to improving my overall physical well-being and the art of being well. That means making an effort to eat better, get active,  and focus on the things that allow me to think, feel and look my best. 

 Here are my goals at a glance:

Move more: Exercise at least four times a week. Stay consistent.

Eat better (and maybe a little less): The Mister and I are going to embark on a 21-day nutritional cleanse to find a happy balance in our eating habits. I'm also on the elusive hunt to marry the everlasting partners of feelgood: diet and exercise. I can usually do one or the other well, but never both.  I'd like to make February the month where I fire on all cylinders and do both. I'd also like to improve upon my most dreadful downfall, the eating of the sweets. Did someone say sweets? 

Think pretty. Feel pretty:  I don’t know about you, but if stuff ain’t right in my head, it shows. My goal this month is to pretty up my thoughts with positivity and then pretty up myself for good measure. The mind-body connection is yet another perfect marriage for those seeking the feelgood.  Also, and I have to type this aloud:  sweatpants and fleece jackets are a no-no in Feelgood February unless I’m headed to a workout or returning from one. No excuses. Elastic waistbands be damned! 
 
Bring sexy back: Feelgood February is also about embracing my femininity. I recently spent the weekend with one of my bestest lady loves  and received a loud and clear reminder to embrace the sexy. It does wonders for a woman's confidence and demeanor. Feeling sexy is for me, although I’m sure the Mister will have no objections.  Sexy is a state of mind and it has nothing to do with a short skirt and too much makeup. It has everything to do with feeling good about oneself. 

So, there you have it, my intentions and focus for Feelgood February.  Of course, my goals will look drastically different than yours because you're you and I'm me! 

Tell me, what could you stand to work on in Feelgood February? What does feeling good mean to you and how do you facilitate it? The lines are open. Holler! 

Hello and Happy Friday!  How is the New Year treating you?  Excellent, I hope. 

We are twenty days into 2012 and I am nearly three weeks into my self-imposed happiness project, The Inside Job.  I decided to begin the year getting organized and dedicated the month of January to the cause. So, how am I doing? 

In all honesty, getting organized and documenting the process has felt a little like herding cats. I rounded up all my organizational desires and set goals for tackling my environment and schedule and then…well, then all the bits and pieces started wandering off in all directions. There was an organized desk here, a well-written to-do list there, keen journal entries for three consecutive days and then nothing, a revamped whiteboard complete with a fine list of creative ideas but nebulous deadlines.  I cleaned out cabinets and then my mom brought me a giant box full of my deceased Grandmother’s dusty miscellany. See? Herding cats, I tell you.  

The most interesting part of the project, too, is trying to “do” while simultaneously observing and documenting myself. It’s a little strange and begs a different kind of focus. I need a camera crew or maybe a butler named Geoffrey.

Back to herding cats... 

What keeps coming to mind is not the elusive and completely false ideal of perfection, although maybe I entertain that idea more than I care to admit, but rhythm. I’ve GOT to find a rhythm, a routine of some sort.

Yes, I have some of the pieces in place, but I’m looking for the well-oiled machine kind of rhythm, hence the desire for organization. The thought was that if I organized my environment and schedule, I could create the right formula for productivity in every area of my life.  Right now, it feels sporadic and wonky. Maybe it takes more than twenty days. Patience has never been a virtue of mine. N-E-V-E-R.

Whatever the case may be, I’m still on the hunt for my rhythm and in honor of that, I give you one of my favorite videos of all time. The choreography in this video blew me away back in the day. I had never seen anything like it. All I knew is that I wanted to be a part of a Rhythm Nation. Part of me still does. 

How do you stay organized? Do you have a rhythm to your days? Tips, comments and suggestions are welcome. Holler! 

                              Photos (top to bottom) 1. Ribbon 2. Heart (taken by me, Keia Mastrianni) 3. Wishbones 4. Napkin

I stumbled across these tidy, orderly bits of cheer and thought I'd share them with you.  Everything looks better when it's neat and tidy, doesn't it?  I've recently finished organizing my office (pictures to come) and will be moving on to the kitchen and bathroom this week.  Already I've been inspired to create better surroundings for myself by implementing a few new organizational tactics to my daily routine. 

One of my biggest excuses was time or lack of it. What I've discovered is that I have spare minutes peppered throughout my day where I am able to  squeeze in one, small organizational task at a time. Those three piles of paper on my desk? Maybe I can't go through them all in one sitting, but I can tackle one pile at a time in the few moments I have before jetting off to the next to-do. Also, breaking up my month by dedicating one week to one area of my home has prevented me from feeling overwhelmed.

My lesson so far:  Do a little at a time, between obligations, every day. So far, its making a difference. 

Next up, is rhythm. I need to find mine. I'm hoping to find some laser focus and a few extra hours of the day along the way too. Stay tuned! 

I wouldn’t say I’m completely incompetent when it comes to organizing my life. In fact, I know people who would tell you that I’m an organized person.  However, like most everyone, I can do better. Infinitely better.  That being said, I think it’s important to take stock of my current habits to see where I stand before plowing head-on into self-improvement . 


So begins the slightly painful task of admitting where I fall short. It’s all relative too. What I think is organized may be someone else’s chaotic nightmare. Or I may find your level of organization to be in need of psychiatric evaluation.

Okay, my shortcomings...where do I start?