More Weekend, Please...

I am feeling kinda crabby and blue today. I don't know why, because I've had a perfectly nice weekend of Friday night crafts/bonfire, and a Saturday night show of Hurry for the Riff Raff, a folksy-blues duo out of New Orleans. I really can't hone in on what it is that made me eat an entire bag of Oreos between yesterday and today, when I have a rich and fun social life and a stable job and nice place to live and lots of fun collaborations going on in different directions. It looks good on paper. So why is it that I feel sad enough to stuff cookies into my gut? Or eat three portions of (relatively healthy, homemade) chili? I shouldn't even be able to hold that much.

I was asking myself that question--why am I sad?--and what I kept coming back to was the earthquakes in Chile and Haiti, and the temporary tsunami warning for my friends in Hawaii, and the the giant icebergs colliding in the Arctic (because they're melting, and junk?) and the multi-layered stories of fuckery, from all sides, in the Middle East, and the next rounds of banks slated to go under on our current financial roller coaster.

It's almost too much to handle, being aware of the world and capable of drawing the most likely conclusions to the whole, dire mess.

Plus, I'm pretty sure I have carpal tunnel in my left hand.

Oreo's taste better than exercise. Anybody got a cure for that?

My Pa.-Pointment

My friends little girl used to say appointment like that. She also said pa-partment...cute.
I went for my three month check up yesterday. Since I was diagnosed with Diabetes I've been to the doctor more times than I probably have been all the years of my life before. Well, the blood test was A-MAZE-ING! Everything is within a normal range, my A1C levels are completely level and within normal range, my cholesterol has come down and my good cholesterol has gone up. I've lost weight and my hair is growing back. Could it get any better? Well, yes.

I went home immediately energized out of weeks of carb funk and inertia, slapped my body onto the Wii fit board and completed a yoga workout. Felt GOOD! Some stuff I did worse, some I actually got better at. Also, I've noticed a big change in my body shape, and realized it was largely a result of the yoga. Funny because when you're doing yoga you don't really think about it actually changing your body; it doesn't seem like a strenuous enough activity.

I'm here to say, YAY! Hope everyone else is doing well as none of us have posted in a while. Here's to February being almost OVER! I'm so ready for spring, its not even funny!

V-Day Surprise

Although no one came out of the woodwork and confessed their undying love me for, and I didn't get a single Valentine for the first year I can remember (normally, I at least get a Mom-card...), I did somehow lose two pounds this weekend. It's a Hallmark holiday miracle!

It's funny--I was kind of beating myself up because I drank some beer on Thursday night, and I had a cookie on Saturday, but I think that my choices really are finally morphing into a lifestyle instead of a diet or an exercise fad, and that makes me feel good.

Plus, I was feeling all sorry for myself on Friday night, and I had a good, old fashioned cry. It had been a long, long time since I'd done that, I realized; years, it had been, and I think maybe the metaphorical cleansing and purging manifested itself in actual weight loss. Maybe.

I don't know how the hell else I managed to lose any weight with four alcoholic drinks, most of a box of low carb fudge bars, and generous portions of cheese for the past four days.

I did manage to have an amazing Valentine's Day weekend as a single lady (hey, Beyonce, hey). I went out to the movies with Eli on Friday, I saw the world championship of bull riding on Saturday (my first rodeo!), and tonight, I saw an early performance from the legendary Wanda Jackson; she toured with, and dated, Elvis back before he was E l v i s, and she's the most recent inductee into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She's tiny and 70+ and she wore lots of bling and fringe, and she absolutely rocked. It was a great way to spend Valentine's Day, I won't lie.

I have to go scoop cat litter. G'nite.

Official Love Yourself Day

I know that all of us on this blog have been talking about giving ourselves a break, so I am declaring this day LOVE YOURSELF day. I have exited the carb load caboose YAY!

We had a Valentine's breakfast this morning. I decorated and we made eggs and banana muffins and whole wheat waffles and bacon and sausage. I did really well! One muffin, 1/6 of a waffle 1 sausage link, 1 bacon strip, and eggs. MMMM And I was surrounded by people I love and who love me. Couldn't get better...unless I woke up with some hunky guy hovering over me coming in for a kiss :) Then I woke up.

Carb Spiral

Hoo boy. Its been a doozy of a week. I have been inhaling carbs in the form of baked goods like they're going out of style. My philosophy, at this point, is just that. I need renewed motivation. Anybody?

Slack...How Fantastic!

So I managed to stick to the positive thoughts from last weeks yoga class of fakin' it til you make it. I lost a little over 3 pounds, which brings my total to 15 pounds since the first week in January. I got a goofy star sticker and everyone clapped for me at the meeting. I'll admit it was kinda cool, and really, who doesn't love a sticker?

It's amazing how Adrienne, the yoga instructor, always brings a lesson or thought to class that is so pertinent to my current experience.

All day yesterday, I was suffering from the "I just can't do it all, and therefore, I'm a loser" blues. Somehow I managed to get the idea in my head that I am supposed to keep the house clean, the marriage nurtured, the children happy and healthy, cook nutritious shit, the dogs looked after, some money coming in, stay on the diet, exercise three times a week, write a script, begin a book or two, blog, go to the 'isits' and take my meds so I can stay sane, and report it all on Facebook in some pithy and comical manner. Seriously.

I end up putting so much pressure on myself, I become practically immobile. I know I need to cut myself some slack, but I honestly don't know how. I really don't. I can say out loud that that is what I'm doing, but I'm lying every time. I need to read 'Cutting Yourself Some Slack for Dummies', or at least the cliff notes version.

Meanwhile, back on the yoga mat...Adrienne read her interpretation of what she gleaned from the book 'The Art of Possibility' by Benjamin Zander, the conductor for the Boston Philharmonic. According to Zander, we should celebrate our mistakes, and he encourages his orchestra to do the same. You fall behind the beat, "How Fantastic!" You play the wrong note, "Stupendous!" By celebrating your mistakes it gives you a world of options. By closing all the doors and windows to error you end up frozen in a place where there is no air, no creativity, no grace, no life. That, in a nutshell, is where my brain gets stuck when I try to cut myself some slack, or relieve some of the pressure, in that airless room. Sometimes I get locked so tightly in there I literally have to remind myself to breathe.

Adrienne encouraged us to celebrate the mistakes we made in class. Fall out of a posture - 'How Fantastic!' An opportunity to try again in a different way with a different mind set has just presented itself to you. After all, it took Edison 1000 tries to invent the light bulb. So he learned a thousand ways to not make a light bulb. Stupendous.

So this week, I will give it a go, but I gotta say I'm a little skeptical right out of the gate (How fantastic?). It would appear I'm even scared of celebrating my mistakes incorrectly. What the fuck brain?!?!

So here we go...adding another layer to the process. You don't have motivation to exercise? Get

It Girl! Burned the new recipe for brussel sprouts, Wah-hoo! I guess where we go from there is rife with possibilities.

I'll report back with my findings to this attempt. But if I don't, it's probably because I'm celebrating that mistake of a forgotten promise by chillin' with my new friend, Slack.

Speaking of Brussel Sprouts

I mentioned then at the end of my last blog, and it may have sounded like punishment I had in mind (what am I Yoda?), but I LOVE brussel sprouts. They just have to be prepared correctly. So, you want my recipe for delicious? You GOT it (won't say Toyota because...clearly they HAVEN'T got it anymore).
Yummy Brussel Sprouts

1 pile of brussel sprouts
2 tbsp butter (no substitutes)
splash of lemon juice

Take said pile of brussel sprouts and prepare them for cooking by cutting off the stem end and then cutting them in half. this will cause the outer leaves (some are tough, some are dirty...this is beginning to sound sexual) to fall away leaving the tender, fresh and turgid brussel that you want to eat (OK its getting worse!)
You can either steam then in a steamer pan, or just place them all cut side down in a saute pan large enough to allow them all to lay flat and add some water and a lid. Only add like a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of water. Turn on heat and steam till bright green. If you prefer your veggies tres al dente steam less, if you like them deed, more. Once they are looking almost done. Take the lid off and allow the water to steam off. Crack some fresh pepper over their little heads and sprinkle with a little salt too. Now's the time to throw the butter in. Allow it to melt and swish it around the pan being careful not to move the brussels. The key to amazing brussel sprouts is carmelization, so DON'T move them. Keep the heat med hi to hi and allow some nice browning to occur. After a few minutes (don't allow the pan to get TOO hot, if you see too much smoke, just turn it down) check a brussel sprouts bottom half; if it is sufficiently brown you're ready for the lemon juice. Now, sprinkle that lemon juice over the sprouts, just a few glugs, or if you want to use fresh (always better), one lemon's worth. Let that cook down (make sure its not so hot as to burn the sugars on the lemon juice), for like a minute and serve.

I personally eat a whole pan by myself. I kind of love that no one in my house likes brussels (except my brother) so I don't have to share. Seriously, its a scratch I just can't stop itching. See if you like them...go ahead, it won't kill you.

Exercise Deficit

It's really hard to get motivated to go outside and exercise when the weather is as crappy as it is. I haven't found any good indoor exercises, that are free, and that I will actually engage in on a regular basis. I just this second remembered Netflix has exercise videos, streaming, so I'll try that and report back.

I would totally pay the $2 to go the Pullen Center to go swimming but--how sad is this?--I can't spare the $2 right now. Lean times til payday on Friday. Being poor is kind of a good diet, in that I'm really craving some labneh, eggplant mousaka and cabbage salad from Neomonde, but what I get to eat for a snack is half a grapefruit. Mind you, I hate being too poor right this second to eat out, but moving was expensive, like it always is, even though it was a simple move, and I've been working extra this last week so my next paycheck will be purdy. Hauling boxes and unpacking was my exercise for the last few days. I need a massage.

Holding steady at 260.

The Hooch Thorn

Aside from my one evening with Ben & Jerry's, I've had a relatively easy time giving up sugar in the food. Alcohol is really proving to be a lot more difficult, which is surprising me because, hand over my heart, I'm not a big drinker. Or maybe what I'm realizing is that while I don't drink often, when I do drink, I drink. If I have one margarita, I will likely have three. Drinking is so much fun in social settings, and while I'm never the girl making as ass of herself by crying or throwing up on the street, I will catch a buzz.

Take last night, for instance. I got off of a long day's work of painting, and went straight to the only regularly scheduled family event I attend every month; my 12-year old brother's Boys Book Club. At the end of the night, the kids hadn't really talked about their book (Chris Farley movie on in the media room) and most of the women that stayed past 9 left with a swing in their steps. It took me a few times to catch onto the fact that these Book Club meetings were a way to get the boys engaged in reading, while giving the adults a chance to socialize (12 to 20 adults, depending). The adults are great, the kids are great, the food is always great, and there's always wine. Or margaritas. No one ever gets sloppy, but people have fun. But really, Suzy, a light breakfast/lunch/2 margaritas before dinner/margarita dessert/tequila night cap? That wasn't really necessary.

I feel it today, in not so much that I'm hungover, because I'm not, but in that I took in a lot of sugar and not enough water. Why is everything sugary the tastiest, most fun to eat, while being the worst and most addicting and damaging ingredient? Grrrrr. Seriously, where's my anti-sugar addiciton pill? Get it on, science.

Flowin' Free Ain't So Easy

Well, the day after my birthday, my boss "let me go" because of money issues in the company. What a birthday gift. I've been readjusting to the new schedule, trying to reshape how the day/week/life will go...again. I wonder if it will be my lot in life to adapt to constant change. Seems that way at this point. After a flurry of applying to schools to substitute teach, I have been catching up on housework, writing letters, and watching Modern Family, Cougar Town, and The Good Wife.
I am realizing that I had gotten used to squeezing in exercise between running from one job to another, and had pretty much absented myself from helping out in the kitchen. Before I had this job, I had the luxury of focusing totally on exercise and contemplation. Now, with the lack of schedule, I am having to relearn the discipline of moving every day in some significant way. Its so cold, I don't want to go outside, or get the wii fit out with everybody lounging in the living room.
Excuses.
I need a reboot.
Too much sugar.
Too many doughnut holes, blueberry crunch sugar cookies (my sister in law is a master and a demon at baking amazing things I don't even want to resist)

and now?
Chocolate lasagna.

Must....make....some brussel sprouts.

I Hear What You're Spittin'

Yesterday, I was feeling all sad-bastard because I haven't lived alone in five years, and I'm all period-y, and I was feeling kinda lonely, so I ate some sugar-food (as opposed to sugar-alcohol) for the first time in 32 calendar days. It was a heavenly single-serving tub of Ben and Jerry's Brownie Batter, a little four-bite deal. I loved every second of it, and you had better believe I licked every ounce of chocolate ice cream juice out of that little hand-held cardboard wonder, but then 30 minutes later, I didn't feel so good.

My stomach was upset until about noon today. I don't think this is a coincidence.

I threw up three times today, trying to eat my homemade chili, and it wasn't because I was nauseous, but because the ice cream had made me lose my appetite for a full 12 hours, I hadn't eaten breakfast, and the tighter-than-normal band wasn't having the super-chunky hearty chili.

It's weird about the throwing up...(sorry if this grosses you out) I have to chew my food so much before I swallow it that I generate more digestive spit than I need to swallow the small bite. This spit then gets in the way of the food passing, and usually I can take a sip of water and kind of clear it through. But--that's a gamble, because a solid 30% of the time, the water can't get through, either, and then I throw up; I don't lose much food at all, that's the crazy bit. Once it's down there, it's down there. I hear having a stomach bug can be particularly brutal, because the Lap-band kind of creates a Point of No Return; that's something they don't tell you pre-op.

The moral of this story: ice cream made me feel nasty after 5 minutes of ecstasy, and if I don't eat breakfast, it's hard to eat lunch. I had a delicious dinner of spicy fish soup at my favorite Vietnamese restaurant, I drank a lot of water all day long, I took a luscious hot shower, and ten minutes ago, I caught myself thinking, "I feel really great." I was standing only 18 inches away from Klondike's sugar-free ice cream bars, and they never even crossed my mind. I think that I am starting to hear my body when she talks to me, and this makes me realize that I have ignored her for a long, long time--water, vegetables, fish, banana...these things make me feel good. Too many roasted-garlic Triscuits, refined sugar, heavy whipping cream, chocolate brownie hunks...these things make me feel (a spasm of delight) a little sluggish and gross.

I know those are very elementary statements, but for me, it was an epiphany of sorts. For the first time, I am paying attention to nutrition instead of just weight loss, and one short month in, I can feel the benefits as well as see them.

Fake it 'til you make it.

I took a yoga class tonight, this is the second time I've taken this class, and I really should just make it a priority every Wednesday night. The instructor is awesome and always has a nice thought to stick in our brains before we begin. Think Jack Handy's Deep Thoughts - same amount of humor minus the oddity. Although tonight's thought began with a little oddness. Adrienne began by saying she, for a brief moment, actually considered botox. Not exactly what you expect to come tumbling out a yogi's mouth before an ohm.

She went on to say that you typically act the way you feel, but the converse is also true. You can act a certain way and eventually, with perseverance, it can become how you feel (this was from some PBS special she saw so I s'pose that gives it a measure of credibility). She continued by saying that people who've had botox tend to be happier as it is more difficult for them to frown post botulism shot. Thus, her fleeting thought.

Essentially, the idea is there is truth to faking it until you make it. At least according to the PBS eggheads - and I gotta say I'm willing to give credence to the creators of Antiques Roadshow, 'cause I dig junk from an old trunk.

That idea did get me thinking that this could be an important piece to the losing weight puzzle. As I was moving through some of the yoga positions I noticed there was a lot more of me in the way, impeding what I deemed as a successful pose. I tried thinking that I was the right shape and size for that pose and poof - I relaxed and was able at the very least to sink deeper into whatever pose I was trying to achieve.

So I say it's experiment time. Let's try for a week to say/think to ourselves that we are getting thinner/losing weight all the time. We are doing it...Right. This. Second. I wonder if we'll lose more weight, or at least have an easier time with some of the daily challenges.

I'm going to give it a try.

No...more....chicken...chili.

To celebrate moving into a new place with an excellent kitchen, I cooked. A lot. I was snowed in, aside from the ridiculous 4 mile hike in the snow, and the rest of my time was spent cooking, and watching 30 Rock on Netflix instant viewing (LOVE Tina Fey.) Today, I ate chicken chili for the 4th day in a row, and I'm only halfway through it. It's so delicious, and I never want to see it again.

I'm all poor, and tryin' to be health conscious, and really wanting to reduce my carbon footprint and whatnot, so I'm against trashing the leftovers...but man, do I ever want to eat a frozen pizza instead.

I had a glass and a half of white wine tonight, to bid a fond farewell to Emily and Ernie, and I'm kinda tipsy; they depart for Hawaii tomorrow morning, early, and they came to hug their dog (and maybe me, too) before they left town for the longest working vacation man has ever known. I'm actually (secretly) fairly bummed about this, and I find myself wanting to eat my feelings. That pimento cheese in my refrigerator isn't safe right now. Emily is my best friend in Raleigh, and I feel kinda twisty, like I have to go out there and make more new friends, when it took me long enough to find just the one really excellent new friend here in my hometown that I can just chill with, and have similar interests and temperments and shit. It gets harder to make new friends the older I get; I think I must be more discriminating or something. Regardless, I feel tired just thinking about the process of making more new friends. Maybe I'll just hole up in my temporary delight of a house and paint and write and craft.

So Emily and Ernie, in honor of your soon-to-be gaping absence in my life here in Raleigh, I'm going to go stuff my face...with grapefruit. Bon voyage, dearests! I'll hold down the crib for ya.

Lovin' me some Booker T.

This sits on my desk. It's been on every desk I've had since college. I think it's pretty apropos to our, well at least my goal(s).

Goes like this:

Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed. -Booker T. Washington

One more pound down this week despite all my pissing, moaning and cabin fever angst. That brings my total to 12lbs thus far.

Gonna keep rollin' with Booker T. til the wheels fall off.

Venting from the Bitch Box

I am in desperate need of some coping skills. Like on the double. Exercise seems to help a bit, but the snow has put a brief halt to that. I have gone for walks, and I do have some DVD's I could do, but man when my motivation takes a nose dive it plummets like a boulder off a cliff.

At the moment this blog is at the top of the list of things I can do to help me cope with stress and simultaneously keep me away from the pantry.

The current batch of 'what the fuck is this mess' surrounds my job.

I started working at a hair salon several weeks ago. The owner is a friend of mine - probably mistake number one on my part. I was hired to implement a new computer system (they've got an archaic paper and pencil system that's pretty labor intensive) and to help pick up the manager's slack. All fine and dandy until I realized the manager's slack was considerable, in fact I can't remember the last time I met an individual that was more disorganized. That didn't really bother me a ton, but I was starting to get pressure from the owner to get the computer system up and functional, which was getting tougher by the day since I was running my ass of doing things the manager had requested.

I told the owner that I was having trouble getting anything done on the computer and that I was getting conflicting messages from her and the manager about what my duties were. The owner cleared this up and merrily we rolled along.

Then I had a tough day dealing with my PPD/new meds etc, (which Rebecca, the owner, knew about before she hired me) and I took a 15 minute break to pull myself together, which I did. Later I got a text message from Rebecca saying that if the job was too tough for me it wouldn't hurt her feelings if I didn't want to work there anymore. I guess in today's economy it's not okay to have a bad day, probably mistake number two on my part. I apologized for my misstep and said I was definitely interested in continuing to work there.

Meanwhile, the manager, Esh, is filling my ear with information about Rebecca and how her personal bank account is the same as the business account and that she and her partner have basically bled the business dry with their out of control spending habits. What's more, Rebecca told Esh she wanted to cut back on the front desk, and that she could get plenty of people to do Esh's job for less money. Dunno what this had to do with me, so I just nodded and smiled and tried to mind my business. The next thing I know Rebecca hires a temp to implement the computer system, and conveniently doesn't tell me. And last night I get a text message saying one of the stylists who owes her money is going to work at the desk on Tuesdays and Thursdays (my regularly scheduled days) and I can just work on Saturdays for a while.

That will make me about 40 bucks a week, BEFORE taxes.

I had set up a few new things we could afford based upon the income I'd be getting from the salon. I joined weight watchers and the YWCA but namely the money was to go toward paying for Zeke's pre-school. A place where he has already made friends and it is a very real possibility we may have to pull him out of there if I can't find some other part-time position, fast.

Ben is, of course, taking it all in stride. I, however, want to smack the shit out of Rebecca, tell her to shove her forty bucks up her ass and eat an entire carrot cake in one sitting. I mean who runs a business via text message? Am I just out of the loop since I haven't been a part of the work force in over three years, or is this really how things are done these days? Whatever happened to good old conversation? Or how about a fucking phone call?

Perhaps I am getting worked up over nothing, I don't know. It's just one of those situations where you know you're probably better off having it go the way it's going but it's still seriously annoying. That and I really get my back up when I feel like someone is potentially threatening my kids happiness.

So there. Time to put the bitch box away, I got it out of my system and I didn't have to chew my way through it. I know this isn't really weight loss or food related, but it does make me feel better to know that when I don't feel like chatting with a psychiatrist or psychologist or any other kind of ist, and all my friends are busy, there is a place where I can vent without detriment to myself. I can see that eating my way through every stress, be it large or small was getting me nowhere fast, except for maybe a one way ticket to diabetesville.

Thus bringeth me to yet another small victory.