Let's Talk About Weight...

So Thanksgiving has to be one of my favorite holidays. I think it's mostly because I get to pig out on food and then not feel guilty afterward. And I know some of you are thinking, "Alison's the size of a twig, why would she ever feel guilty about eating anything?" Well, I'm human and I do.

Here's the thing about being thin: I'm kind of self-conscious about. Think of it this way: I go shopping and I'm looking for at the smaller sizes. Someone from across the room is watching me, envious of the size I'm in because our society has made it a crime to be any bigger. The person goes home and starts skipping meals or even worse, starts an eating disorder. Why? All because they saw me and the sticks in the magazine. They decided they weren't good enough because they saw me in the store and became jealous.

And I understand that it's not my fault that people become anorexic or bulimic, but I don't like being automatically grouped with that culture simply because of my size. If you just saw me shopping in the store, at first glance you might think: she's tall and skinny, she could be a supermodel. It's the worst thing you could ever tell me. I've gotten it before (A LOT) and it offends me. And it's only because it groups me in a society I don't even like. 

Yea, I'm crazy but we've already established this. Here's why I think it's better not to be Burge-girl skinny:

1. It's really a proven fact that guys like girls with more curves. You wanna know why I think I didn't go on my first date until I was 19? I was too skinny. What guy wants to date a size 4? I turn sideways and there is NOTHING to me. People go, "Where's Alison? She was just here." Guys want girls who when they turn sideways they can admire. Plus, being skinny can give off that whole I-don't-ever-eat-anything-vibe. Zack once told me that if I ate salads all the time, he would have never asked me out. He loves my appetite. My first date with Zack, we went out for pizza and I ate like 75% of the pizza. I think he enjoys the fact that I can out eat him.

2. You become lazy. Now, I actually enjoy working out. I like sweating and my workout routine consists of an hour of Just Dance on my Wii. However, being this skinny can give you a lazy complex. I don't need to work out because I'm super skinny anyways. There are people who weigh a lot more but are a millions time healthier than me because they eat better and work out more. They could live to see their great grandchildren get married and I could die when I'm 40 of a heart attack still skinnier than a twig! And I constantly fight the lazy complex but then I think of my adorable great grandchildren and pick up that Wii remote! I also REALLY like to dance but that's another story.

3. Being Burge-girl skinny can get you into trouble. This may be scary but I actually wear the biggest size of my sisters. I also go up a size because of my leg. We actually got in trouble in junior high and high school because we were TOO skinny. Our teachers thought we had eating disorders and out of concern would call home. I actually got called down to the nurses office and the counselor was there to talk about it. I've never had an eating disorder and it was only after the one millionth no that they relented. I had fight against this belief that just because I was skinny I had an eating disorder. My parents had to explain to school officials that we were just skinny. We had no problems eating, we were just wired to be tall and skinny. I'm not trying to discount eating disorders because they're terrible. My heart aches to think people would subject themselves to it because they think they're not good enough. I didn't want my teachers spending time on me when there were other students who needed help.

I'm all about having a healthy lifestyle. And I have family members who've lost weight and I'm SO proud of them. Losing weight just needs to be done the right way. Skipping meals or resorting to eating disorders are not the right way. So here's the real point of my blog: Trying to be a healthy weight is achievable, trying to be Burge-girl skinny is not. So please don't use my size as your role model.  

F.Y.M. + E78 = Me!

So yesterday I ran across a friend of Kristin's, who I watched grow up. As it turns out, she's now attending my alma mater, EIU. It made me insanely happy as I creeped through her Facebook photos looking at places I once frequented.

As I went through her photos, I felt like I was stepping back in time. A lot of her photos from high school were from Northwest's youth group. Then I came across the announcement videos from the same time period and it brought back so many memories.

I loved youth group beyond anything else in my life. I went on all the retreats, camps, conventions, Fine Arts trips and missions trips. I went through the leadership training and for a while, was considered a student leader.

My dream today is become a youth leader at a church and pay it forward. I had so many wonderful youth leaders that influenced me and shaped my spiritual journey. I want to be the same for those who follow behind me.

Sadly, I can't find any F.Y.M pictures to post so I apologize for that. That was back in ancient times when I had a film camera. When I started youth group, it was a change in leadership. The youth pastor had just become the head pastor at Northwest and for about a year, we didn't have a pastor. Then came Dave and Kristen March. A very wonderful, Godly couple who showed me that sticking to your faith and loving God is the key to living a full life.

Junior high and early high school were difficult for me but the March's helped me through it and were so supportive and caring. I didn't really fit in with the people my age at church (minus a few). They were normal and seemed confident and I felt like I had to be someone else around them. I was crazy (still am) and incredibly awkward. It was the typical self-conscious teen thing but I felt twice as awkward because of my leg. They were prettier, more popular, and were constantly changing boyfriends. I just didn't fit. But with the support of the March's, I discovered that I didn't need to try so hard.

I also got a lot of support from awesome leaders like Adeolu, Christine, Katie and Stephanie. Without them, I think I would have absolutely hated my life. I remember Katie being very proficient as the Carlton dance and entertaining us all at one youth retreat. Adeolu took some girls and I to lunch one day at California Pizza Kitchen. That's where I learned how to do the whole tequila shot thing with the salt and lime (minus the tequila). We thought we were super cool doing it with lemonade.

When Dave and Kristen left for Wisconsin, I was 16. They shaped who I am to this day. I loved God, loved life and could drive myself to all the youth group functions. I learned to embrace my leg and make fun of myself. For those of you who are curious, this is around the time of my infamous leg/prom alternative story. It fell off while we were at Navy Pier and my dad scared Dave to pieces upon returning to the church.

I had also found a wonderful group of friends where I didn't have to try. I became me. At the core, I'm still the same, crazy Alison I was 7 years ago. I still love God, love life and I can still drive myself everywhere. God had shown me who I was and a dream of the future. There was still change to be had though.

The new youth pastor arrived shortly before my senior year of high school. T.J. and Jill brought a name change and lots of new ideas. I wasn't used to change and wanted desperately to hang on to the past. He painted over the mural in the back of the youth room. We went from Fire Youth Ministries to Element 78 (which is platinum). T.J. taught me to embrace change. All the changes were made for the improvement of youth group and it made us stronger. Made me stronger. A lot of the youth leaders were only a year or two older than me and instead of being role models, they were friends.

Good Christian friends who believed in good Christian fun. And I have pictures!

Meet my youth leaders... getting high on helium

The funny story with this picture is James (the guy in the middle) passed out. I have a video of him fainting from inhaling too much helium. They were singing Christmas carols and wanted to sound like chipmunks. James got back up pretty quickly and kept singing.

Don't let my innocent smile fool you... I was hard core.

This photo was taken at winter retreat. We played sculpterades (which is a combo of charades and pictionary). I rocked hard core at this game and whenever it was my turn, it went to full contact sculpterades. I tackled one guy and ended up head butting another. After someone on your team got the right answer, you had to run to the center of the room, grab the bucket and run back to your team. At one point, I accidentally collided with James (the fainting one) and tossed the bucket to the other side of the room. Two words: hard core.

We got bored so we painted Peter instead.

Oscar (guy in the blue) and Monica (in the grey) had very loud personalities but Peter (the boy in the middle) is SUPER quiet. On our missions trip to Georgia, I volunteered to paint with them. It beat going outside in the hot Georgia sun. We, unfortunately, got assigned to the men's bathroom. It was gross. Even Oscar didn't want to go in. But we sucked it up and went in, scrubbed the walls and painted. However, the paint was the EXACT same color and we couldn't tell where we had painted. Peter is a very nice young man and obliged us when we joked about painting him because at least on him, we could tell where we had painted.

Although, there was the time the youth leaders put make up on one of boys who fell asleep in the van. Unlike Peter, he was not amused.

So on this Thanksgiving Eve, I want to thank my youth pastors and their wives. For the support, confidence, training and guidance. I wouldn't have survived high school. To my leaders, you set Godly examples for me to follow when I needed it most. You provided countless hours of amusement and prayed with me hundreds of times. You truly cared about me and gave me something to look forward to every week. To this day, my favorite day of the week is Wednesday because that's when I attended youth group. You truly made a difference in my life and I just wanted you to know.

And oddly enough, my blog name came from my time in youth group. When I started youth group, I was trying to be someone else but the people I met taught me that it was enough to simply be Alison.

P.S. I will be writing an actual Thanksgiving blog tomorrow. Please be safe during your travels!

Mr. Rogers' Congress

I've had it. Completely, utterly fed up with this all.

I try to avoid discussing politics because let's face it, everyone has their own beliefs and people rarely change their minds. People will never truly see eye to eye on political issues. But what happened tonight is a travesty of epic proportions.

I was CNN.com catching up on the latest news when I discovered that this "Super" committee to deal with our budget deficit decided it couldn't get its act together and come to an agreement. $1.2 TRILLION hangs in the balance and the officials we ELECTED sat around on Capitol Hill for 5 months arguing like pre-schoolers.

When I registered to vote, I marked Democrat on the party affiliation thing. And to be honest, I normally vote Democrat (expect for Blago... he was the exception). I come from a conservative background and some people I know would scoff at a Christian Democrat. I don't agree with all the Democrat party lines but I can't vote for a party that likes to give tax breaks to the wealthy and leave me whimpering every time I look at the tax taken out of my paycheck. And they also like to cut spending to programs for the poor... Can't do it. I have this super over-arching sense of wanting to help everyone. Republicans don't like to do that.

Now despite my normal devotion to the Democrats, I'm utterly ashamed that they're sitting on Capitol Hill blaming the Republicans. Even my bff Obama is blaming the Republicans. What every Congressman needs to do is pull out a mirror and look at it before placing blame. And you know something, as Americans we're to blame too. We ALL elected these people into office and then let them sit around and refuse to act like grown ups.

When they sat around back in June bickering about the overwhelming debt, we all just sat around and grumbled. Then Obama put together the super committee and maybe we felt a little better. Maybe the thought of sweeping cuts to everything (especially the defense budget) would get them to work together. Neither party liked the idea of sequestration so they should have done everything to avoid it. But they didn't.

And this Occupy Wall Street movement, why did it take so long? Where was this in June when this whole debacle started? Why did it take us SO long to start voicing our discontent? Have we really become this complacent with our government?

You want to what I think? I think we've become lazy with our politics. We let the machine run too long and we've run ourselves into the ground. We have no one to blame here but ourselves. Beware, my friends, America is finished as the no. 1 superpower because we can't even agree on budget cuts. If we can't solve our own problems, why should we be trusted to go to other nations and solve theirs? We can't.

And I know this seems doom and gloom. Maybe it won't come to that... maybe we can figure it out. Maybe the Occupy Wall Street movement will bring sweeping changes to the government. But I doubt it. We are so stuck in this age of bureaucracy and bickering that the only thing that will change it is complete revolution.

So here's my clever solution to all this: Congress needs to be rehauled. Completely replaced. Replace them with a normal, civilian group and then EVERYONE has to go through intensive Mr. Rogers training. I'm going to start a curriculum for new Congressional members and Mr. Rogers will be at the core. Because he knew how to act like an adult and treat each other fairly. He understood that we may not agree on everything but we can embrace the differences and work together. If Mr. Rogers can get it right, then why can't the rest of us? It's so amazingly simple. Sure, he made a kids television show but if Congress can't act like adults, then it works out perfectly. So yes, my solution to this whole problem after completely voting out Congress is Mr. Rogers. Because he got it right and let's be honest, we could all take a page from Mr. Rogers once in a while.

So after everyone attends my Mr. Rogers seminar, we put them through a worst case scenario simulation. If they can't solve their differences and be like Mr. Rogers, then they're gone. Plain and simple. Imagine how many headaches we could save ourselves if Congress actually took some of Mr. Rogers' advice to heart and started treating each other like good neighbors. And yes, every morning would start with the House and Senate meeting together in a Joint sessions and singing the familiar tune of the opening song. And yes, I'm deadly serious about all this. Got any other ideas? Because nothing else we've tried has worked.

My Real Life Santa

For those of you who haven't been following my Facebook posts, my grandfather, John William Traughber, died on Nov. 9, 2011. I've always said that God blessed me beyond compare when he gave me the family he did. We aren't perfect but we also understand that family means looking beyond each other's imperfections.

My grandparents: the world's greatest people

For my family, the death of my grandfather was a relief. He had been suffering for many months and he needed rest. My grandfather loved God and even became an ordained minister in later years, so he's in a place with no suffering or pain. He was greatly loved by my family and his presence will be sorely missed.

For me, the dealing with my grandfathers death over the next few weeks will be very difficult. I loved him very much and considered him one of the best men I will ever know. A grandchild always looks past their grandparents faults and as such, he was the epitome of perfection to me.

Now normally, I believe in holiday equality. Thanksgiving IS just an important as Christmas but in light of recent events, I'm foregoing that rule. And when you finish my blog, you'll understand why.

When I was a kid, I was convinced my grandfather was Santa. He even looked like Santa. He had the bushy white beard that was soft but tickled your cheek. He had the big tummy and even the twinkle in his eye. I was always passionate about my friends meeting my grandparents because then they'd get to know the real Santa too.

As I grew older, I still retained that child-like faith of Santa because to me, he was real. I got to see him every time I went to Decatur. When I about 12 or 13, my grandma admitted to me that my grandfather always ate the Christmas cookies we left out. Even though my sisters and I were all old enough not to believe in Santa, we still left cookies for my grandfather to eat. And my grandfather, in true Santa form, left us little notes on the cookie plate. Mostly "Yum, yum, yum" or "Be good."

But mostly, he remained Santa to me because he shared 3 of Santa's main traits: talent, commitment and jolliness. When I started thinking about writing my blog, I asked Zack who he though made the toys before the Elves came. He thought about it for a minute and said "Santa." For this to be true, Santa must be a very talented craftsmen. He would be an expert at woodworking, welding and the world's greatest artist. My grandfather equaled Santa's talent. He was a wonderful stained glass artist. After he retired, he traveled to different churches and did stained glass windows for them. One of my most prized possessions is a stained glass frog lamp he made me when I was a teenager. I also discovered shortly after his death that he once entered a citywide stained glass competition and placed 2nd.

He was also a very talented musician and loved music. Every church he ever joined, he immediately joined the choir. He sung with the deepest, richest bass voice that shook the earth when he sang. He loved Southern Gospel Music, especially the Gaithers and had EVERY single Gaither video ever released. He knew all the songs and although I thought the Gaithers were boring, I still enjoyed hearing him sing. He is also the only person I've ever met who plays the dulcimer. Still not sure what it is but it sounds epic.

Santa was also very committed. Once he started delivering presents, there was no turning back for him. Think about what a huge commitment Christmas is. He spends 364 days preparing for one night. He organizes the elves, reindeer and has to make sure to get home to Mrs. Claus at some point. When my grandfather married my grandmother in 1961, he made that Santa-like commitment to her. When she entered the TB sanitarium not 2 years later, he committed himself to caring for my aunt, dad, and uncle. He fed them, clothed them, and entertained them for 6 months. He even convinced the TB hospital officials to let them in so they could visit their mom.  He also showed that same commitment to his grandkids. There is not one drop of my grandfather's blood in my veins but that didn't matter to him. I was his granddaughter and he loved me as such.

To say my grandfather loved my grandma is a gross understatement. He adored her. During their courtship, he asked her to marry him every single day and I'm sure he meant it everyday too. My grandma often laughs about it and says, "I said no so much that when I actually said yes, he didn't hear me."  When she was in the TB hospital, my grandfather visited her twice a day, everyday. During his lunch break and after he got off of work. When she was admitted to the hospital in January, he visited her everyday. Often spending the whole day by her bedside. In June, my grandparents celebrated 50 years of marriage. His Santa-like commitment never wavered to his 5 kids and wife.

Santa is also known for his happy demeanor and jolly laugh. My grandfather loved to tell jokes and took delight in the corny. His jokes were often told repeatedly and became known in my house as "Grandpa John" jokes. Like his jokes, his humorous stories were told hundreds of times. And there were always new people to tell his stories too. My dad said at the funeral that my grandfather, "Never met a stranger." He talked to everyone and I truly believe he enjoyed seeing people smile. He would be your new best friend whether you liked it or not. And truthfully, it was probably pretty hard not to like him. He had a wonderful, friendly disposition that you couldn't hate. I know he didn't always smile and as he got sicker, he could be grumpy at times. But as his grandchild, I will always say, he was always smiling and the jolliest person I ever knew.

I read this blog entry at his funeral and it surprised me how many people after came up and told me that he was Santa to them too. Not only did he look like Santa, he acted like him too. As I was talking to my younger sister about this, she even said, "I thought he was Santa too!" I loved my grandfather very much and I will him miss more than words can ever say. My world was made that much brighter by his goodness and humor. And I expect Christmas will be a little sadder this year without my Santa. I will never forget my grandfather. And even if I wanted too, I don't think I could because Santa never truly dies. His laugh, like my grandfathers, is immortalized in 3 short words: Ho, ho, ho.