In the past 7 days, I have started a lacto-ovo-vegetarian diet, “treated” myself to cheese enchiladas and subsequently didn’t see any weight loss (or gain, phew!) this week, but did discover some yummy veggie fare that more than makes up for the lack of animal fat in my diet.  I’ll be back in the gym next Monday, and have enjoyed a relaxing and rejuvenating week here at home.  I’ve hiked, played the Wii, spent time both reading and writing, among other things.

I’ve also gotten out of my relatively new relationship… and done a lot of cleaning… and actually, as much as I love my job I’m quite disappointed that I have to go back day after tomorrow.

Oh, but the only question anyone wants to ask is this… “So, um… what happened with you and that guy?”

Well you’ll get no juicy deets here, but I will say this:  There are doors that are closed by circumstance.  Sometimes you feel like you’d be happier if the door remained open, but you have no choice.  You must find another door.  There are doors that will remain open forever if you don’t have the strength to shut them.  You’ll be stuck in that doorway if you can’t force yourself to grab that knob and pull (no jokes, guys!).  And then there are those ambiguous half-open, half-shut doors, the ones you stand at forever, trying to get a peek inside to see if it’s safe.  And if there is someone on the other end of that door, and they don’t open it fully for you and invite you in for tea, then chances are they are just as scared of what is lurking on the outside of it as you are of what’s lurking on the inside.

What I think: Leave the house.  Go outside.  Discover Mistress Fate in a meadow instead.  Because life, love, and the pursuit of happiness is all just a bunch of malarkey.  Make your own destiny.  Live out your fate day by day.  Don’t worry about who’s in the house, and what’s behind Door # 178.

Also what I think:  Try some awesome veggie quesadillas for dinner tonight.  Chop onion, squash, zucchini, and bell peppers (I prefer red), add jalapenos if you like, and combine together in a whole wheat tortilla. Sprinkle some low-fat Monterrey Jack and warm in a skillet until golden.  Even if you’re not ready to give up eating animals (by the way I went  vegetarian for my health, not animal rights), this is a delicious and healthy alternative to Taco Hell.

Nom nom nom

Danny turns 21!

Jimi - Danny's 21st

Michelle and Stephen - Danny's 21st

Fancy birthday dinner - I'm 29! (And will be FOREVER.)

Old Friends, New Lives - Our night out with Mark

A year of painting with Nick...

A Promotion,and a project to help soliders, at work

A juice diet!

Vincent's Birthday

New relationship...

Really looong hair......

Really short hair!!

Fun with Buster

The Isle of Palms coast, SC

It’s been an enjoyable, if not hectic, ride this year.  There was joy and pain, but no tragedy quite like the death of my wonderful baby girl, Rika…

Feline Imelda Marcos

But here we are in 2012!!

The new year will no doubt present just as many challenges as past years, but just as many triumphs as well.  And one triumph I have attempted many times is a healthy lifestyle.  In 2012, the Fat to Fit heading you see at the top of this page will come to life.  New goals, new diets, long term solutions (not short term quick fixes)!  Progress pictures, stories of success and failure, lessons learned and, of course, a healthy dose of humor along the way.

So keep your eyes on Linzality in 2012 – I’ll have meal plans, recipes, workouts, reviews, etc on the Fat to Fit blog, in addition to the regularly unscheduled programming on your main Linzality page.

It’s not about the gifts.  It’s about this one special season, these few weeks when giving is more important than getting, and memories of Christmas past intertwine with new memories
made each year, when old traditions are maintained and new ones are created. 

Merry Christmas!



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But there is a tradition that I’ve had much longer than the H-W tradition, and that is Christmas with Vincent.

It started long, long ago – when we were just teenagers, in fact.  I met Vincent when I was a sophomore in high school, in theater class.  From that first day forward, we have been inseparable.  We have battled life’s disappointments together, stood by each other during every [one of my] failed relationships, battled illness together… we are like family, but better.

Initially, it was just driving around our neighborhood, listening to Christmas music and looking at lights… for a few hours.  Perhaps we’d get a shake from Sonic on our teenage budgets.  Simple as it was, I looked forward to it every year.

As we got older (and also as the neighborhood stopped decorating for Christmas), our tradition evolved into what became an annual excursion to Old Town Spring – a small “town” of shops and eateries unmarred by mass commercialism.  We go early in the morning, we walk from shop to shop all day, we take pictures in front of decorated gazebos.  We eat funnel cakes, buy candy from candy stores, and always leave room for the best burger in Texas (at Wunsche Bros. Cafe).

In the past several years we have shared this tradition with a few people.  My brother, Marcie, Danielle… it has not diminished.  But, there are limitations to sharing this event.  See… some traditions grow and change with time.  Others do not.

This tradition does not change.  We love it – Vincent, Danny and I, we love this tradition just the way it is.  To alter it would be met with a disgruntled reception from the guys, and from myself as well.  The sharing of this event can only go so far.  Marcie gets it.  Unfortunately, she can’t join us this year, but were she in town, she gets it.

Don’t mess with Texas…. and Don’t Mess with Old Town Spring.

One of these most cherished traditions is what has become the annual Hobson-Williams Christmas.  You might think this involves two families coming together to celebrate the holidays with each other, but in reality… it’s just two people (sometimes three, if my brother is there).  Marcie and I have been having our own separate Christmas celebration and gift exchange since our first Christmas as roommates, and we’ve continued the tradition even after moving to different locations.

During what would become our first Christmas celebration, we were living together with a few foster dogs from the rescue organization we both volunteered for.  I had, against my better judgment, purchased a live tree and a small amount of inexpensive ornaments to adorn it. The total investment may have been about $150, but it sure felt like a lot of money that particular year.

Our very modest tree

One evening as I was driving home from work, I got a call from Marcie.  This seemed unusual, since she knew I’d be home in less than half an hour.

Her first words were “Don’t get mad.”

I am not considered by anyone who knows me to be a tolerant person, and as an OCD planner, when something in my plan goes amiss I have been known to be quite irrational.  I like having a plan, and I am more comfortable when everything falls into place in that plan.

The other night my ever-optimistic boyfriend Jason told me, in response to my obsessive planning, that the best moments that happen are usually unplanned.  Okay… I know he might have a point.  However, in my world, that is the exception rather than the rule.  I have examples.  But that’s another story…

So… “Don’t get mad”.

I immediately upon hearing these words got mad.

“What?!”  I tend to snap at people when they try to stall giving me bad news.

“Danny [my little brother] and I already cleaned it up.”

“WHAT?!!?!”

“Weeeellllll……  the dogs kinda knocked over the tree… and… the shatterproof ornaments… shattered…. And… well they ate most of them from the bottom half of the tree…. And…. Danny and I already cleaned it up!! Don’t get mad!”

Oddly… inexplicably… I didn’t get mad.  I laughed.  Then I laughed harder.  I laughed all the way home.  The crazy-ass dogs that we fostered had pissed me off countless times… eating clothing and shoes, going through the trash can, fighting with each other, eating the couch…. But this?  This was hilarious. It was the perfect Christmas comedy.

There were many traditions to celebrate that year, and a few new traditions were born… but I will always remember those crazy rescued dogs who tried to eat Christmas.

Snow play

Nearly everyone on FB has kept a running tally of things they are thankful for this month.  While I haven’t participated online, I’ve been keeping tabs in my head…family, friends, boyfriend, dog, cat, job, home… the usual suspects.  Moments, individual seemingly simple moments that for no distinguishable reason stand out in my mind as being special.  A cup of coffee at my parent’s house.  A movie with my brother.  A phone call from Marcie, and email to Kristyl, a shared smile with Jason, waking up to Buster curled up on one side, Rika snuggled up on the other side.

I love these two seasons.  Autumn. Winter. Cool weather, sweaters, shopping.  Decorations, trees, gifts.

I had a lovely Thanksgiving with my family yesterday.  Today begins the preparations for Christmas.  Today is the last day my Scentsy warmers will hold Pumpkin Marshmallow.  This evening, they’ll be changed to Christmas Cottage, Cinnamon Bear, Sugar Cookie, etc, for the remainder of the season.

Today my brother (also my roommate) and I will put up a Christmas tree, wrap a few early purchases, drink a glass of eggnog, and relax in the warm glow of holiday lights.

This is the season when tradition rules.  Decorating the day after Thanksgiving.  Christmas movies.  A trip to Old Town Spring with only my absolute favorite people.  (If you have ever been invited to OTS with us, consider yourself one of my favorite people.)

Coffee in Christmas cups, parties, great holiday sales.   Picking out the perfect gift for every person on my list.

It’s the season of selflessness, the season of giving, the season of thinking more about others than of yourself.  It’s the season no one wants to end – we are all just trying to postpone the inevitable arrival of January.

So let’s all meet at Starbucks, order Peppermint Mochas, and celebrate the season together.  (Perfect surprise date?  Yup – Starbucks.  Totally.)

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Sometimes good people do bad things.  It’s true.  Sometimes two good people get into a relationship that just doesn’t work out.  It happens. People get hurt.  It’s best to leave before someone drops that L-bomb though, because when that happens, the game changes.  Expectations change.  No one expects to be lied to, continuously, over and over and over about big things and small, after that phrase is uttered.

I think sometimes people say “I love you” because they just don’t know what is supposed to come next.  You’re with someone and it’s not working out, and the thing is, this is a great person you’re with.  You like so much about them.  You really do want to be with them…. at least, you want to be with the best parts of them.  The flaws, well… you can learn to accept those right?  Figure it out first, before you start trying to take things to the “next step”.

It is my belief that telling someone you love them, when you know that you do not, is one of the most heinous acts that can be committed in a relationship.  It’s right up there with cheating.  It is a lie, and lies hurt people.

I’m not holding out hope that we as a society, as a generation, are ever going to figure out what horrible people we have become when we seduce someone into submission and lure them into contentedness with the words “I love you” when we have no intention of acting as if we really do, in fact, love that person.  It’s an atrocious practice and we should all be ashamed of ourselves.  Those three simple words lead people to make decisions, to tear down walls, to become vulnerable, because we have these things called hearts. Well I, for one, would rather live without those abhorrent lies.  I, for one, would like to be a better person than that. And I don’t want to fall for it again, either.

a.k.a. "Eff This!"

I know, I know…. sometimes people say things that they simply want to believe, even if they aren’t true.  Like, “I promise”.  No one knows what promise means either.  And don’t even get me started on the words “trust me”.  That’s another blog.

A love story.

A betrayal story.

A food story.

A book story.

A success story.

And some sex and booze and stuff… you know, because that stuff sells.

Catch the symbolism?

Ponder.

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