what am i made of?

My Personality

Neuroticism	12
Extraversion	58
Openness to Experience	38
Agreeableness	32
Conscientiousness	71

You are a calm person who is considered almost fearless by some, however you do not feel nervous in social situations, and have a good impression of what others think of you. You get overwhelmed by too much noise and commotion and do not like thrill-seeking activities. You prefer facts over fantasy and are more interested in what is happening in the real word. You do not enjoy confrontation, but you will stand up for yourself or push your point if you feel it is important, however you feel superior to those around you and sometimes tend to be seen as arrogant by other people. You take your time when making decisions and will deliberate on all the possible consequences and alternatives.

Free Poll

10 years (pending)

My ten-year high school class reunion is fast approaching. It will take place this summer in my hometown. I come from a very small community and my graduating class consisted of 96 students, many of which were in my various "circles" of friends. I was a floater, a mingler, per se. I had friends in every cliche, had no specific tie to any particular group, and was a bit transient in general. As a result, perhaps, I have one close friend with whom I still communicate regularly. I cut loose all of the extraneous people from my life when I went away to college. Not because I didn't like them, but maybe because I hadn't forged real, sustainable connections with them.

It is these people whom I will be seeing this summer. I've run into old friends from time to time, but have never left those encounters with any promised contact. I hope to leave this reunion similarly unscathed, but possessing enough updated knowledge of my old friends to tide me over until the next reunion rolls around.

Why am I bringing this up? It has been on my mind lately. Am I who I wanted to be at the age of 27? Who did I want to be when I "grew up"? Did I meet those benchmarks? I don't know that I ever had set up a timeline of my life. Perhaps if I had, I would be disappointed now. I'd like to think that I'm on track and that I am right where I should be. That's how I feel, though I wouldn't mind tweaking a few aspects of my life. I prefer the "take it as it comes" guide to life - I strive for what I want, but what I want changes.

I guess I'm just looking at my life through a telescope. Trying to see the big picture. Trying to give the two-minute elevator conversation that explains who I am, how I got here, and who I want to become. I'd like to get a firm handle on that two minute "where am I now" so that I can leave people with a clear view of the real Trish. Except that in my mind, I can't really wrap my head around a reason to pinpoint my life like that.

I think I'm like one of those grab bags I used to love as a kid. You get a bag filled with surprises, some of them good, some of them you pass along to others. All in all, the grab bag of my life has been filled with a lot of great experiences who have made me into today's Trish. Tomorrow's Trish may be completely different. Who knows who I will have become by the time this summer's reunion comes around. Maybe I shouldn't write that elevator conversation down in pen, but rather just keep it in pencil. I guess I'm still that transient being I was in high school.

i scream, you scream, we all scream for fish oil

I'm taking a new supplement. To supplement what? I'm not sure. I suppose my diet is lacking in things other than fat and cholesterol, which are not necessarily good things to have in abundance. This is why I've added fish oil to my list of daily pills to go down the hatch. They reek. I hate fish and haven't eaten seafood in over 25 years, but apparently their oil is beneficial for my heart and thus I'm taking one for the team (Team Trish, that is). Luckily I have not suffered any type of repercussion from downing the nasty fish oil pills. No gills. No horrid stench reaching up out of my belly to assault passers by. No desire to swim upstream to find a mate.

In other news, I've come to the realization that working out is the devil. It is the devil because when I work out, I want to do it all the time. Why would I want to work out so much, you ask? Doesn't working out pretty much suck because, as it is named, it is WORK? I'll tell you. I want to work out all the time because mine is a personality in need of immediate gratification and because the results...they do not happen fast enough. And logic dictates that to get something to happen quicker, you should do it more often. But this logic is wrong in this case. I am not supposed to work out every day, according to my health magazines and my physical therapist. At least not the way that I want to. There is a delicate balance of "do this, not that," which is going on in my weekly workout rotation. And I hate it. Back to my statement that working out is the devil. I have decided this because that is what the devil does, isn't it? Tempts you to do things you are not supposed to?

I guess that when I start something new, I'd prefer to be balls deep in it rather than just tiptoeing around. This is not the way to do things if I want to be healthy, says my physical therapist. This means that the fabulous workout I've come to love (I posted a video)...the one that makes my ass feel like it is on fire and that the fire is quickly spreading down my legs...I am not supposed to do that workout on consecutive days.

To make myself feel like I'm doing more for my body, despite being deprived of the "okay" to exercise how and when I would like, I've been taking more vitamins and supplements. I'll keep you apprised of any other changes.

add another artist to the bunch

I've been listening to a lot of Imogen Heap's music lately. You may recognize her voice as she was in the band Frou Frou, which gained a bit of notoriety from one of my favorite movies, Garden State. She is a solo artist, and I really enjoy her sound:



I also have a few of her songs on my playlist if you'd care to take another listen.

yes drill sergeant

There was a time when progress was measured by how much weight I lost - now, progress is measured by whether or not I need to brace myself to lower down onto the toilet and how much my abdominal muscles throb when I do so. Say hello to my latest workout.



This workout may not look like it, but it is super-intense. My abs are by no means washboard, but I've lost a 1/2 inch off my waist in the past couple weeks thanks to this workout + cardio + additional exercises from my physical therapist. That my muscles hurt as much as they do is probably a sign of progress, but it is also a sign that I still have a long way to go.

Every painful step I take is one step closer to saying goodbye to that stupid pelvic belt so I'm going to keep plugging away at the agonizing torture, brought to me courtesy of "the great one-month slimdown with Jillian Michaels" and Self magazine. Oh, how I am growing to hate you and love you all at the same time.