I have a confession to make. It's a confession that with no gray area. You will either continue to be my friend or you may cut me out completely. However, my mind is made up.
I don't like watching Oprah.
It's not that I don't like Oprah, but she's lost of the personal-ness of her early years. She'd be in the audience, asking questions and struggling to find the perfect outfit like the rest of us.
Then she found Bob Greene, Dr. Phil and Dr. Oz. She hired a chef, barista, stylist, hair dresser and make-up artist. She's got a magazine, a radio show and a media empire that would make Ted Turner proud.
I will agree that Oprah has done amazing things for women in this country. To be on top of Forbes wealthiest people's list and to be generous. That's character.
Or great tax planning.
Oh, I kid. She does great give-a-ways. I'm all about that kind of generousity.
I'm not so much into the spirituality of her show. She continually talks about how it's all in us to do amazing things with our life. That's where she loses me. It's all in me because God's in me. It's all about how God is working in me and not about anything that I do.
That's another post. For another day.
About a month ago I was home with a sick kid and she had a woman on her show talking about a 21-day cleanse. I knew this meant giving up some things like bacon, potato chips and birthday cake. Which are part of my basic food groups.
As I listened, I quickly realized what cleanse meant. It was about going vegan. Oh the horror. I really admire anyone that can give up all the goodness that is meat for tofu or giving up milk for soy. That has to take dedication.
Dedication that I lack. Sometimes a girl needs her ice cream. Or her bacon.
That got me thinking. This 21-day cleanse will do just that. No meat, no dairy, no caffiene. It's all roughage. When they say cleanse, they mean cleanse.
This could get me swimsuit ready. Sometimes a girl has to take drastic measures for swimsuit season.
The lady who wrote the book said to Oprah, "it's about progress, not perfection." To start my progress and my swimsuit preparation, I decided to cut out caffiene.
It's going to take many more weeks to even begin contemplating eliminating ice cream and bacon. A girl has to have standards.
I started my cleanse on Monday. I knew the Starbucks mocha was the culprit for my spare tire. I knew if I eliminated that, not only would I be svelt, but I would also have more money in my pocket to buy the new wardrobe I would need.
I also liked the term cleanse. Sounded like I was being healthy. In reality I was detoxing. The thought of not getting a mocha in the morning was enough to send me into a corner, in the fetal position, crying that I needed a fix.
I'm not going to lie, Monday was hard. Being in that fetal position most of the day made me a little sore. Without a mocha to help the anxiety, I was jonesing by 8:30 am.
Tuesday wasn't a peach either. I turned off the monitor while Zoe cried. The lack of peppermint and mocha made me ignore my child.
I realized yesterday the power of the peppermint.
I was crazy talking. Giving up the peppermint and the mocha was hurting my relationship with my daughter.
I gave in to the need for Starbucks this morning. It's like my car was on autopilot taking me to the land of sweet mochas and cinnamon scones. It is the reason I get up in the morning.
Oh Starbucks, I'm so powerless to you. You call to me in my sleep with promises of chocolate and caffiene. I am but a mere mortal.
Perhaps if I hired a personal barista I could get the mocha without the spare tire. Now that would be progress and perfection.
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