About 2 months ago, I went to my endo to get the results from my bi-monthly blood work to check my cortisol & ATCH levels. I still hadn’t lost much weight and was starting to feel bloated again & had swelling my feet and ankles. Turns out I have slight hypothyroidism and that was causing the swelling and the inability to lose weight. I was relieved to find out there was an answer for feeling like shit - and thought to myself ‘I’m destined to get every fat disease there is‘. I just had to laugh, I mean really laugh. All of this is out of my control and if I can’t laugh about this, then I might as well lock myself in my room and cry myself to death. And laughing is way better than death by tears.

So my thyroid is under control and I’m on very little steroids, but I still can’t seem to lose any f@#$%ing weigh. I started working out with a personal trainer and after 3 weeks of getting my butt kicked, I managed to loose a measly 3 lbs. Ok, now I’m starting to get pissed. I’m on less than 5 mg of prednisone, eating well, working out 3-4 days a week - WHY CAN’T I LOOSE WEIGHT?

A couple of weeks after I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, I went back to my endo for results of my blood work (I have blood drawn so often that now I have a favorite arm). I told her I was feeling better - had more energy, the aches & pains have to started to lessen and my muscles are finally starting to get stronger - and asked her WHY CAN’T I LOOSE WEIGHT? Apparently, due to how sick I was prior to getting diagnosed, my body was refusing to let go of the fat suit until I’m completely off steroids. Since my body was getting stronger & I was having more energy, we devised a plan for me to ween myself off the prednisone. I had been waiting to hear this for months - I felt like I had just won the lottery - ‘Congratulations - Kristin Wall, you have just won $1 million dollars!‘

The weening would take 3 weeks. The first two went by with no real issues - slight aches, but nothing unmanageable. Then week 3 came - I stopped the predinisone. I think I told just about everyone I know. The first day went pretty Ok. Then day 2 came. Holy S@#$ - it felt like I was back in the beginning of my recovery. Horrible aches & pains, bones popping, no energy…The worst part was having absolutely NO appetite. I wasn’t nauseous, it was more like my stomach was in knots. I had anticipated feeling like this, so i just bared with it, knowing the end was near.

Two days later I woke up with a cracked rib - on the 4th of July no less. I wasn’t sure it was cracked, so I waited a couple of days before seeing a doctor. Unfortunately, there’s not much a doctor can do except prescribe something to help manage the pain (hey, Vacodin isn’t so bad).

The following week I had another appointment to see my endo to get the results of my blood work. I had a feeling they weren’t going to be good. I was feeling like hell and my feet were swollen to the point of looking like bricks rather than feet (during the peak of my feet swelling, I had to attend a wedding in Grass Valley - 105 degrees in heels - after the ceremony I ditched the heels and threw back a couple of cosmos to help ease the pain).

It was bad news, just as I thought. My cortisol levels were undetectable and I needed to got back on prednisone immediately. I wanted to cry. I wanted to have a full blown temper tantrum (and in my mind, I did - just for a few seconds).

So I’m back to 5 mg of predisone. I know that may not seem like a lot, but my body is ultra sensitive to the slightest change. And I do feel better - no more aches & pains and I can eat again. But I still had terrible swelling in my left foot (I nicknamed it the brick foot). My foot had been swollen for more than I week and I was starting to get nervous, plus I couldn’t wear anything but flip flops. I called my endo and she advised me to see a doctor immediately. Ugggg. I moved to Seattle about a month ago and hadn’t set up my primary doctor yet since I was still seeing my endo in Portland (it’s only a 2 1/2 - 3 hour drive). So I had no choice but to go the ER. Four hours later (6 x-rays & 4 viles of blood), everything came back normal - in fact I was perfectly healthy. Of course they couldn’t find anything wrong, I’ve come to accept that my health is an anomaly. So I’ve been ordered to keep my feet elevated for the next three days (good excuse to telecommute).

The swelling has gone down considerably and I hope to wear something other than flip flops to work next week.

No word on when I’ll start tapering back on the prednisone again. I feel like I’m a recovering alcoholic, living my life by the Serenity Prayer Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to the know the difference.

And to be quite honest, the more I accept the things I can’t change, I learn to live for now - not yesterday, not tomorrow - just today.

What’s been most interesting to watch is how & where advertisers are spending their budget online.

Traditional advertising is usually found in print, TV, radio or outdoor/environment. And advertisers have a pretty good understanding the scope & limitations of each medium. For example, print advertising is found in magazines, newspapers, posters, flyers, etc. But what about online advertising - what’s the scope of this medium?

Honestly, I don’t know if there’s a clear set of parameters of what’s considered online advertising. Sure, you can start with the basics, such as banner ads, text based ads, email campaigns…

With the invasion of social media & online viral marketing, it seems like anything goes. For example, a Japanese clothing retailer recently launched a viral video ad campaign – no glitz – no glam – no words. Just ordinary women wearing the retailer’s clothing. But here’s the catcher – the women were doing something very ordinary, but quirky at the same time.

Advertisers are constantly testing news ways to capture their audience online - Facebook, MySpace, YouTube, Flickr – just about any popular social site. But no one has found the magical mix.

Have you unlocked the magic?

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Vending machines usually advertise many attributes of the products it’s selling. What would you do if you came across a vending machine that advertised it’s products ingredients as a surprise? Would you still buy it?

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You know, I’m the process of moving. Too bad these little critters don’t make house calls.

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Six years ago, when Barry & I moved to Portland on a whim, we thought we had finally found a place we could call home, somewhere we could plant ourselves and start a family. Well, we did - we have an amazing 4 1/2 year old named Mason and we bought our first house shortly after he was born. The thought of leaving Portland didn’t cross our minds.

Never say never, right? An opportunity to advance my career sort of landed in my lap & I just couldn’t say no. After many tears, angry words & more tears, Barry and I finally came to a joint decision. I couldn’t pass this up, it was just too good. He was willingly taking my lead to Seattle - on one condition - that he can call me his ’sugar mama’.

I’ll be moving up to Seattle next week and start my new job on June 16th. Barry & Mason will stay behind until our house sells and then will join me in Seattle. I’ll be back on the weekends - the split is going to hard, but we’ll manage.

This has been a hell of year. This isn’t goodbye. This is hello.

The biggest changes I’ve seen so far have been the weight loss in my face. Big difference - lost the jowels & no more red checks.

The rest of my body is slow to shed the weight. I’m still on steroids (a small dose) and my body is having trouble finding balance. Speaking of steroids… After surgery I decided a change was in order - I cut my hair super short & went platinum blonde. Apparently bleach & steroids don’t mix very well because a couple of days after I become a blondie, my hair started coming out by the handful. My hair was breaking off about 1 inch from root, mostly in the back. @#$!!!! I had two choices. I could crawl in a hole & cry until my hair grew back or I could go with the flow…I still had hair on top, right? Screw it, I want a mohawk! And you know, I actually really like it. Now many women can say they’ve sported a mohawk

The muscle & joint aches are getting better - slowly. The move I move, the better I feel. I look forward to the day I can get out of bed without hearing pop crack pop crack and feeling like I’m about 90 years old. Patience is a virtue, right?

The part I’m enjoying the most is the ability to sit still & relax and for the first time in more than 4 years I can sleep. Before surgery, my body felt like it was constantly zinging - you could almost see the electricity. Now I can sit comfortably & watch a movie from start to finish. And sleep - ah sleep! No more waking up at 2am and getting 3 or4 hours of sleep every night. Now I can sleep thru the night…just like a baby.

I’m still struggling with how to move forward and put all of this in perspective. For now, it’s just one day at a time and the journey continues.

I feel extremely privileged to live in Portland, Oregon, a place that whole-heartedly practices sustainable living. Much of the new residential construction in The Pearl adheres to green standards and Portland is one of the few US cities that has an electric car dealership.

I could name a few more ways Portland practices sustainable living…but that isn’t the intension of my post. Living in Portland has influenced me greatly, as well as the simple fact of ‘getting older makes you wiser’ (hopefully). Since moving here more than 6 years ago, I’ve changed my habits for the better. I’m a faithful user of public transportation, use cloth totes instead of plastic or paper bags for my groceries and recycle just about everything in my house. I know this is a small contribution & I can do more.

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If only this were real, then I’d use my Spiderman super webs to sneak a piece. Wonder how long it would take to eat one whole square?

I grabbed my camera and ran outside with my 4 year-old son. There were too many trees in the front yard to get a clear view of the sky, so I ran into the backyard hoping to get at least one photo.

As I’m trying to frame the shot, my son says

“Mom, I think you’re standing in poop.”

I looked down at my feet and sure enough, I was standing shit.