One thing I think we all evolve with is our belief systems. Now this can be so many things and ideas. Beliefs cover everything. Yes everything. From politics, sex, and how long to wait after eating to go swimming our beliefs shape our every move.

Yes, what we believe in is in a sense what keeps us rolling. It dictates our everyday life, and our belief systems (although constantly changing) are our fundamental core.

And then there is religion. Oh the great topic of religion. Now I can’t pretend to even have a conversation on this topic, because not only is it specific to each individual (yes even if you are a member of an organized one) but also I don’t really know if I have every really known what religion means and in turn has meant to me.

I grew up Catholic. Very Catholic.  Catholic school, church every week, grace before a meal, hell I was even an alter server in church (one of the best ever I might add) But at the end of the day what does growing up Catholic even mean. I have no idea!

I really don’t.  I personally believe that you can never quite escape what you come from, as much as lots of people say. And although I don’t think I would ever shout form the roof tops that I believe in God, or that I am Catholic, and the end of the day I think I would have to associate most with being Christian, only because that idea and belief system has been grilled into my brain for so very long.

But again, what does that even mean!?

All I know is for as long as I really remember. As long as what is actually relevant in my adult life I’ve been more a fan of keeping the George Michael kind of Faith, then the kind that involves a God.

And then there was yesterday. Where I found myself sitting, waiting, and in prayer. I prayed. And exactly what the means…..I have no idea. But it happened, a for real prayer in the first time in a for real long time.

I am not to sure what this post is about except maybe change, and life, and at the end of the day it’s just about me….me on one specific day. So there you go.

But spooning is just one in the plethora of sleepy snuggle positions out there.

Relationship sleeping has an element of security to it. You feel secure, and safe with someone next to you. And like some corny stupid Faith Hill song it’s because you can feel the other person “breath”.

And although we may move from spooning to only a small cuddle we still feel that person there, and that is the comfort…right?

And as time passes an relationships evolve we grow comfortable in both turning away and not touching, because we don’t need to feel the other person to know that they are right beside you.

But that’s where one of my new favorite positions comes into play. As we both drift off to sleep facing away from each other, our bodies get comfy, and we start to curl into little sleeping balls.  And even though we didn’t need to fall asleep touching each other, our bodies find each other……. and we are sleeping “cheek to cheek.”

But thing is I didn’t feel right posting here the last little while. It just didn’t seem right.  I started to taper off a while ago, then would proclaim “I’m back” but truthfully I was never feeling it, and so I’d drift away into the night again. It wouldn’t go unnoticed, I’d get your comments, your emails, your tweets, asking where your Sunday PULL was or that post I promised on ‘this or that’ but after awhile those stop too. And then today (or should I say yesterday) something shocking happened I had 193 unique hits on my blog… the first time in over 2 years I feel anywhere near under 200 or even 300.  And something in that hit me. I don’t know what it was just something hit me. Not in an “ I better get cracking” or “oh no” or even “what the hell where is my love” kind of way, just in a “isn’t that interesting” kind of way.  It is kind of interesting how when you stop talking (or should I say typing) after a while people just stop listening. Almost like you never were there, like it never meant anything to them, or even to you……and “isn’t that interesting” at getting lost on the side of the road of this information super highway.

Now lostplum has been here since 2006…. and became a steadier stream of consciousness in February of 2008. That’s 3 years…. 3!

3 great years…..I’ve meet some great people via this blog, and had some great adventures, and yes some bad ones as well.

I’m proud to say I have never just banged out a post for the purpose of blogging everyday. I don’t just sit down and say “I’m here world pay attention…I have nothing of value or usefulness, but here’s a fun video cause I’m lame today” I’d like to think I’ve always posted something that even if it didn’t make others think or made them laugh it did those things to me. I always provide content…i think….well maybe….

Hold your horses…. this isn’t a goodbye letter!

Lately I’ve been in a blog rut.

A RUT!

That’s all it has been. I just had no motivation to post. (Notice I didn’t say writing rut…cause I have been writing) A very “what’s the point of it all” moment in my head…..this moment has lasted a few months.

I don’t apologize: why should I?!

It just is what it is…. it has been what it has been.

But here is the thing. When looking at that under 200 mark I hit today it clicked in my head that it doesn’t really matter if 200 people read this, or 2000 or even 2. I read it and I say things that matter to me. I don’t do this for anyone else…I have lots of other projects I do for others. This is just my little world (it’s getting old just like me) where I talk about those ever important issues like relationships, dating, friends, boys, sex, guys, the odd few men, and even love.

I just LOST my place on the page for a little while…. bare with me I think I’ll be finding my way back soon.

FACT: I’m posting at 2am that has to say something!

Turning to twitter seemed like the most logical thing to do since flipping the cushions was not an option…because frankly the other side of the cushion was even ‘manlier’.

I still need to dry clean my cushions covers (infact even more so now) but here were the Top 5 Home Remedies that followers either tweeted me or emailed me.**

Maybe sharing the knowledge will help someone in need…..it is national volunteer month!

“Just use a dry tooth brush and some Fabreeze and brush it off. Works every time!!”

“ some cold water mixed with a little dish soap and lemon.”

“ Try seltzer water and a tiny drip of vinegar”

“protein-based stains need cold water remember that.”

“No more spitting only swallowing and use a condom next time Plum.”

**FACT: I had just copied these into a document and stupidly not listed who told me what so my upmost apologizes for not being able to give credit where credit is due…but then again none of these worked for me so frankly screw you guys!

Well I have to disagree it should be:

Don’t hate the player, hate the education system** for failing to prepare the vast majority of boys*** for creative communication and management skills that are  needed to navigate through life.

** outside education and inside (home) education

*** notice I say boys

SIDEBAR: Yeah I know I didn’t do the follow up post from last monday…I know….

I’ve been working, playing, escaping, enjoying, stressing, working, laughing, crying, writing and enjoying all things offline (but still on) and trying to figure out how one comes back after an absence like mine.

What do I write? What do I say? Do I talk life, love, relationship status, make a stupid list, discuss the hot ‘topics’? What is a plum to do?

So….I do what any normal person in my predicament would do. I write down 15 topics and pick one from a hat. Actually I number them and have the computer generate a random number, but lets pretend a hat was involved.

I ‘pull’ THE IDEA OF LOVE.

A little heavy for one to come back with don’t you think.

Why did I even write that topic down I have nothing in mind for it. Why couldn’t the computer have said 3? I want to tell that embarrassing story that goes perfectly with number 3, but I get number 8: THE IDEA OF LOVE.

I need to think about this one for the day.

Tomorrow I will write about THE IDEA OF LOVE.

I am back after all, what else do you want?

I’ve said it before but I want to repeat it again is that these pickup lines I have been collecting for eight years. EIGHT!  That’s along time. I have three note books / journals filled with these and therefore I have my Sunday posts set for years, even if I have nothing else to say I’ll always have my Sunday post.

I get a lot of messages, twitter replies, and DMs about these incidences. Most people think they happen recently even that week.  Although some are recent with many since I’ve been in NYC, most haven’t happened in the last few months.

I have not really been “picked up” “been hit on” or had creepers talk to me in a while.  Now one could say it’s cause I’m taken, but then again there is that age old argument that when you are taken is when people show the most interest: and I’m a firm believer in that idea.

So I’m going to tell you why I’m not getting hit on, and it’s very true.

I get hit on far less because I frankly have gotten fat.

Like more then I’ve ever weighed in my life plus 46 pounds.

I am kid of pretty. I mean let’s be honest, I’m not hideous. But I have got fat.

And guys don’t hit on fat girls.

They just don’t.

Now yes yes yes there are those guys that love them some thing to grab onto, I’m not arguing that. But those aren’t the majority.

And yes there are just straight up creepers out there who hit on anything with boobs, but when you are overweight female (especially in NYC) your chances of being picked up go way down.  They just do. It has nothing to do with confidence, or how you put yourself out there, or any of those relevant but bullshit answers.

I had this conversation with a bunch of girl friends whose weight has fluctuated, and they all agreed with me. Fat is less desirable. That’s just a fact of life.

Again I’m not saying fat girls don’t get hit on, or shouldn’t get hit on.  We’re all deserving of love, but some just aren’t shown it as much as others.

But then again, maybe they should, wouldn’t some say they are an easy target?

I’m the same person I’ve always been just with a bigger waistline, and guys don’t hit on me as much as they have in the past.

And I’ve become highly suspicious of any “fat girl” who claims to be hit on all the time.

What say you?

SIDEBAR: I say ’straight’ relationship, but what I should really say is any relationship involving a straight male. Because let’s just get it out there that the straight male is a bread on to its self.

We’ve all heard the term “forgive and forget” but I think guys have a tendency to think this statement actually means, “forgot therefore forgiven”

But there is one important fact that needs to be said here:

Guys never remember that girls never forget!

It’s true. We don’t forget. Unless we are bat-shit crazy, or take medication that messes with our memory. But who wants to date that?

Girls will always remember. Remembering is different then forgiveness. Girls can forgive you for your stupidity, but they will always know (remember) you are stupid.

She will remember you burping in her mouth, you saying her dress looked funny, saying her best friend was pretty, you cheating on her, you saying you were a boob man and she’s an A cup, you being a drunk idiot, and even you telling her that her cooking one evening wasn’t so hot.

A girl remembers forever.

That’s why girl-on-girl fights are so long, and so nasty. We can bring shit up from way back when. We remember!

Something maybe forgiven, or never mentioned again, but you better believe that your girl remembers the event going down.

This maybe whys people claim women need affirmations in relationships. We need to be told we are beautiful, and wonderful, and that you love us and only us…..because we’ll always remember those time you said/did something that made us feel the opposite.

When I was growing up I had a friend whose parents had completely separate bathrooms, one right beside the other, both were full baths. It wasn’t one of those this is the ladies big nice bathroom and the man gets something that used to be a hall closet. I never understood that.

But then I think about how I love my bathroom. My bathroom. I can’t help but think of how it could be ruined, and nothing ruins a girl’s bathroom space like a guy. Now girls can be gross and messy, believe me, girls can be down right gross, but there is something different that a guy brings to the game.

5 reasons I don’t want to share a bathroom with a boy!

1.The Toilet Paper!  They will buy it (most of the time it’s the cheap on sale kind), they will even unwrap it and place it someplace, but will almost never replace the roll. Their bathrooms can have multiple started rolls on the toilet but an empty roll in its holder for months. I want my nice plush toilet paper, and I’d like it on the roll holder please and thank-you.

2. My Products! They are my products, my fancy soap, and my $40 facial cleanser, and my bubble bath.  Boy’s will use whatever they can get their dirty little hands on, and if it smells good they will use it. We’re talking face soap all over the body, multiple reapplying of showergel to puff, and this shampoo oh no lets repeat but with this shampoo and then 2 cups of conditioner in their hair. They’ll even use those expensive age deifying makeup remover sheets that sit on the shelf near the toilet to wipe their bums, cause why not. Boys will indulge in my products, and the only good thing about this is shopping for new products.

3. Hair! Now girls shed, believe me they shed! I lose tons of hair in the shower, and when I blow-dry the sink gets full of hairs too. But long girly hair I can somewhat deal with. But those little long dark chest/arm/leg hairs that coat everything from my bathroom to even my bedding make me kind of cringe.  And it only gets worse if you have a guy shave in your sink…hairs for months, people! Little black face hairs that hide in every corner of the bathroom and haunt you for life.

4. Reading material! Some people happen to be the types that keep reading material in the bathroom (for some reason). If you are not one of these people (like me) some how they will appear in your bathroom. If you happen to be the type of person who keeps reading material in their bathroom I’m sure it gets disorganized and moved around. I don’t really read in the bathroom.

5.  Towels! They should be washed in a timely fashion. There are also bathroom hooks, hangers, and rods for a reason, nough said.

I have always lost weight while in relationships, not gained and after thinking on it and even asking others I’m still perplexed at where this idea comes from. Does being in a relationship really make you fat? And if so where is this happening? I’m looking at you Dr.Oz, tell me!

I haven’t posted the post, because well, I might disagree with my statements now, I may have to jump on the bandwagon and say that being in a relationship just MIGHT (might) make you gain weight.

It all depends on who you are dating…

In my unposted post I outline that yes you go out and dine more with a partner but I think you are more conscious of it. You share things like apps and deserts, and you wait to eat with no snacking as to not ruin your appetite, and after your big meal is done your ready for other after dinner activities. Your meals are more planned out. More timely. You and your partner plan to do lunch there for you don’t spend all afternoon eating a sleeve of puddings. You mix it up more, not ordering Chinese then eating the leftovers for 2days and then reordering Chinese. I don’t think a relationship is cool with splitting a muffin and a bag of left over movie popcorn for dinner, but when it’s 10pm and I’ve realized I haven’t eaten yet the muffin/popcorn combo works fine for me.

I’ve dated alot of guys who made comments about my weight, or my appearance. And yet at those times I was like half the size I am now. Maybe I’ve been more aware of it in the past cause the guys I was with made me so. Maybe them telling me I was fat or that I should watch my weight made me more conscious then the average. Made me in a sense not be the norm and actually lose weight while in a relationship.

Also I’ve dated a bunch of vegetarians, strike that I’ve dated way too many vegetarians! Now don’t get me wrong I love a big dinner salad, and get them all the time. And I don’t judge them for not eating chicken (for not eating bacon I do!)

Ok so maybe it’s not the vegetarian thing at all. Maybe it’s that I’ve dated alot of guys who overly care about their appearances and like their women to fit into a pretty little not over a size 8 box. In fact, I think that might be it. In fact, I’m sure of it.

Maybe all along not only have I been dating the wrong guys but my waistline has been too.

So here’s the thing: I love food! I eat. I try new things like I’m just experiencing them, cause alot of times I am. I grew up in a house where I don’t think salt even was/is present. Sugar kids cereal was the luxury, and there are no real restaurants around. When I went to undergrad University I slowly weaned myself back onto gluten and boy is gluten good! And tried things for the first time like chocolate milk!  I started traveling and experienced the pleasure of that. Cause the true test of being an adult is making the choice to only eat gelato for two days when in Rome.

And then I moved to NYC and the foodie in me was unleashed like a razor to Britney’s head. Add on top of that that American portions are bigger then my face, and I’ve falling in love with spice, butter, and meat. And although NY street meat has got nothing on Toronto’s it’s a hell of a city to fall in love with food in. Thus I started to gain alittle, or maybe a lot….

Maybe I just need to fall for the right guy too! Maybe my stomach has been on a hunt. A hunt not only for the perfect hotdog but well for the perfect “hotdog”. A hunt for a guy who introduces me to things called ”Combos” or “Popeye’s Chicken” and even “Pop Tarts”. A guy who makes me nachos for dinner and indulges in the idea that we each get a desert and share them.

A guy who likes me for me and even though I might be at the biggest I’ve ever been in my life by like 20 pounds, holds my hand while we walk for street side tacos at 2am, and tells me I’m beautiful as I have taco grease running down my chin….maybe falling in love with the boy who loves ‘All’ of me is something I can really sink my teeth into.

SIDEBAR: I hate hate hated the book Eat, Pray, Love. Gag me with a spoon!