Just found this recipe online for all you who want your Pinkberry but can't get it as often as you like:

pinkberry

Okay. My character needed a big attitude adjustment and I have the lovely Melissa to thank for setting me straight. It's amazing how a subtle nudge can open your eyes to the truth.

I thought I could blame my vanilla life on living in a vanilla location around vanilla people but I was just having a moment of insanity, a little pity party, and I needed a wake-up call.

I live in Paradise. I'm married to a loyal, handsome intelligent man, I have awesome friends, I'm healthy, my parents rock. I have every opportunity to create a magical fulfilling life and if I don't have that, I have no one to blame but myself.

I know that there are fabulous, stylish, fit people who live in this area. Many of them are my friends. I think I've grown comfortable blaming the few unfabulous, unstylish, unfit minority for my inadequacies and laziness.

And even if someone is not "fit" and "stylish" and "fabulous" they, more often than not, still have outstanding qualities and lessons to teach. The only reason I was being such a "snob" was because of how I felt about myself lately. I knew I wasn't living my authentic life so I adopted this attitude to justify why I was not living beautifully.

Today I worked out-hard and with purpose. I got on the jet ski with my gorgeous husband and rode for hours, pulled the ski up on the shore and had lunch at an outdoor Tiki Bar that featured a live band playing Brown Eyed Girl and Margaritaville and Sexual Healing. I complimented my husband for everything I could think of that was right with him instead of nagging about what was not perfect. I have ate healthy meals and healthy snacks. It's not hard to live a beautiful life; it's harder to live miserably.

So now I'm off to plan my next adventure livng in the land of the new attitude. More to come.

Moving to rural South Carolina from Daytona Beach has been a big adjustment for sure. In a way it was a relief to be able to eat a cracker and not worry about having to go work it off in spinning class. Skinny girls are an anomaly here.  Those who are usually have a little help, eating disorder, cigarettes or worse. Fitness is usually a swim in the lake or a walk with your kids. When I moved here I rode my mountain bike, swam in the lake, jogged the hilly developments, did scuba, went on hikes in our gorgeous mountains, ran the steps at school. But I ended up changing gradually and I've recently realized this. We took a vacation back to Daytona this spring and I couldn't help but notice people out jogging everywhere at all hours of the day, whenever they could fit it in. People hung out outside as much as possible. At restaurants the pretty girls and handsome men ate fish and chicken and sushi with wild rice and steamed veggies. I worked out with weights in a gym four days a week, an hour a day and came home and did cardio and loved every minute of it. I felt sexy and fit and energetic and like I had a fantastic secret and the key to life. Now I find myself eating banana pudding and barbecue and spinach  dip, vegging in front of the TV wistfully watching Fashionista Diaries, Sex and The City, Kimora Lee Simons' new show, Flipping Out, living life vicariously. At 10:00 PM tonight I had enough and went into my gym, dusted off the Stairmaster, cranked up my IPOD and ran for dear life. Afterward, I grunted and moaned my way through several bicep curls and back pulldowns. I just want ME back. Is that too much to ask?