Throwing My Weight Around
So, yeah. I am getting ready to clean before ditching hubby for an overnight trip to Woodland. Co-throwing a baby shower, dontcha know.
When the hell did I get so domesticated? Next thing you know, I'll be in Junior League. Ok, maybe not.
I woke up this morning, and hubby was on my computer to use the scanner, and of course, that's how we found out about the bombings in London.
It seems odd to agonize over pounds lost and gained when things like this are happening. I have been relatively subdued all day, to the point that (when out shopping for baby shower supplies) my buddy wanted to know if I was mad at her.
Anyway- my thoughts are with those stiff upper lip, Londoners. They're also with those guys overseas, and with my husband, who was once one of them and is now home. I am sure that he's dealing with heightened alert levels at work.
And- well. As someone who is in discussions about bringing a child into the world- this kind of thing scares the bejeezus out of me.
So- that's where we are on this Thursday. Back to our regularly scheduled program tomorrow.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
When the hell did Tuesday happen?
Throwing My Weight Around
Last night ended with a very cranky me driving my beer-sodden husband home and man-handling him into bed. I awoke this morning at 7:00 AM to the realization that hubby was: a. still fully dressed, b. had stolen all of the covers, and I woke up because I was freezing cold, and c. he was snoring like a bear.
Bad mood. Bad mood. I grabbed my bathrobe, slung it on, and departed unceremoniously for the living room and the life-affirming properties of cold spaghetti for breakfast. That's when I heard the familiar, weekly grinding noise outside, and thought, "Oh CRAP! GARBAGE DAY!"
The truck was still two doors down, and of course, the hubby forgot to put the cans out last week and was in no condition to put them out last night.
So I ran out in my highly unflattering powder blue bathrobe, and manhandled the cans (full to overflowing) to the curb, in full view of my new next-door neighbors and the garbage collection commitee.
Grr. GRRRRRRRRRRR!
Then I went back into the bedroom.
"Honey- My Dr. appointment's at 10."
"Mmmmppphhbbbbbgggggggg.......*snort* Hnnnnnghppppphmmmmmmm........"
I shook him. No joy. We'd descussed the things supportive couples do for each other, and this Dr's. appointment was supposed to cover a lot of stuff I knew he'd grill me about me later.
But he didn't look like he'd be moving in the next decade or so. So I took a shower, had breakfast, got dressed. As I was leaving, he finally revived enough to peer at me blearily and say, "Kiss?" Just in time for me to slam the door.
Yeah, I was pissed. But the doctor's went well, they were pleased with the weight loss so far, and I got a lot of questions answered about what's going on with me, so that's good.
It was almost noon when I got out of there. I called hubby's cell to see if he wanted to meet up for lunch. Once, twice.....no answer.
At this point, I went into angry housewife mode. By the time I got home, I was disgruntled and monosyllabic. Hubby actually got out of bed to ask me about the appointment, which was probably a mistake.
"You saw the doctor, right?"
"Yep."
"How'd it go?"
"Fine."
"Did he answer your questions?"
"Yep".
"Are you pissed about something?"
"Uh-huh."
He kept at it, and finally I just exploded, "You know, this affects you too, and you've missed my last three appointments and I don't feelyoubeingsupportiveand you obviouslydon'tcare'boutme and I hate not having any control over anything anymore and........AAaAAAAaaa!"
I exploded into tears while he sat on the opposite couch, bewildered.
"Are you OK?"
"Noooooooooo!"
He came over and hugged me while I alternately bawled and sniffled into a washcloth. (I'd been folding laundry, and it was handy.)
"I'm sorry honey. You shouldn't have to feel this way. I'll go to the next appointments." Pause. "Is this a hormonal thing?"
"Oh GOD! I don't know, but I am sick of blaming everything on my goddamned hormones!!"
He peered at me, much like a child would peer at a lamprey eel hiding in an undersea lava formation. I hope that conveys the mixture of fear and wonder. Anyway, I threw a pillow at him and buried my face in the washcloth again. "Just leave me alone."
"I just wanted to say- and I know this is a weird time- but you look great. You look beautiful. I know you're working so hard, and it shows. I've been wanting to say something for awhile, and...you're beautiful even when you're crying."
How can I be angry with someone like that?
Last night ended with a very cranky me driving my beer-sodden husband home and man-handling him into bed. I awoke this morning at 7:00 AM to the realization that hubby was: a. still fully dressed, b. had stolen all of the covers, and I woke up because I was freezing cold, and c. he was snoring like a bear.
Bad mood. Bad mood. I grabbed my bathrobe, slung it on, and departed unceremoniously for the living room and the life-affirming properties of cold spaghetti for breakfast. That's when I heard the familiar, weekly grinding noise outside, and thought, "Oh CRAP! GARBAGE DAY!"
The truck was still two doors down, and of course, the hubby forgot to put the cans out last week and was in no condition to put them out last night.
So I ran out in my highly unflattering powder blue bathrobe, and manhandled the cans (full to overflowing) to the curb, in full view of my new next-door neighbors and the garbage collection commitee.
Grr. GRRRRRRRRRRR!
Then I went back into the bedroom.
"Honey- My Dr. appointment's at 10."
"Mmmmppphhbbbbbgggggggg.......*snort* Hnnnnnghppppphmmmmmmm........"
I shook him. No joy. We'd descussed the things supportive couples do for each other, and this Dr's. appointment was supposed to cover a lot of stuff I knew he'd grill me about me later.
But he didn't look like he'd be moving in the next decade or so. So I took a shower, had breakfast, got dressed. As I was leaving, he finally revived enough to peer at me blearily and say, "Kiss?" Just in time for me to slam the door.
Yeah, I was pissed. But the doctor's went well, they were pleased with the weight loss so far, and I got a lot of questions answered about what's going on with me, so that's good.
It was almost noon when I got out of there. I called hubby's cell to see if he wanted to meet up for lunch. Once, twice.....no answer.
At this point, I went into angry housewife mode. By the time I got home, I was disgruntled and monosyllabic. Hubby actually got out of bed to ask me about the appointment, which was probably a mistake.
"You saw the doctor, right?"
"Yep."
"How'd it go?"
"Fine."
"Did he answer your questions?"
"Yep".
"Are you pissed about something?"
"Uh-huh."
He kept at it, and finally I just exploded, "You know, this affects you too, and you've missed my last three appointments and I don't feelyoubeingsupportiveand you obviouslydon'tcare'boutme and I hate not having any control over anything anymore and........AAaAAAAaaa!"
I exploded into tears while he sat on the opposite couch, bewildered.
"Are you OK?"
"Noooooooooo!"
He came over and hugged me while I alternately bawled and sniffled into a washcloth. (I'd been folding laundry, and it was handy.)
"I'm sorry honey. You shouldn't have to feel this way. I'll go to the next appointments." Pause. "Is this a hormonal thing?"
"Oh GOD! I don't know, but I am sick of blaming everything on my goddamned hormones!!"
He peered at me, much like a child would peer at a lamprey eel hiding in an undersea lava formation. I hope that conveys the mixture of fear and wonder. Anyway, I threw a pillow at him and buried my face in the washcloth again. "Just leave me alone."
"I just wanted to say- and I know this is a weird time- but you look great. You look beautiful. I know you're working so hard, and it shows. I've been wanting to say something for awhile, and...you're beautiful even when you're crying."
How can I be angry with someone like that?
Monday, July 04, 2005
Happy 4th of July!
Throwing My Weight Around
Well, Blogger seems to have killed and eaten Fat Flashback number one. Since I have to re-write the whole thing, I think that'll wait until tomorrow.
In the meantime, since I am getting ready to to to a BBQ Fourth celebration- I got good news this morning! Down almost another pound: 244.8. And that was after I'd had breakfast.
Hopefully, the thought of that will keep me going strong at the festivities today. I stashed a bottled water and a few diet Hansen's sodas in the cooler with all the beer we're bringing.
Disclaimer: Normally, I don't drink soda, but this is a special occasion. And it's a hell of a lot better than downing beers of margaritas, or succumbing to the siren's song of the liter bottles of Coke.
So I am using an old Weight Watchers technique- scripting what you want to say.
"No thanks, I'm full."
"Man, that margarita sounds great, but I can't drink with the meds I'm taking. I'll stick with soda, thanks!"
I am also wearing a fluttery sleveless silk top, which looked awful on me a couple of weeks ago, but that I can now wear with impunity. I will still feel enormous around all the cute little YOUNG and petite wives of the other guys (it's a military gathering- all the wives are this way. Except me.)
But, I am working on it. They cannot help being all cute and sweet and chirpy. As long as nobody asks about kids. Then I might go on a rampage with a spork. But that's a whoooole 'nother post, right there.
Well, Blogger seems to have killed and eaten Fat Flashback number one. Since I have to re-write the whole thing, I think that'll wait until tomorrow.
In the meantime, since I am getting ready to to to a BBQ Fourth celebration- I got good news this morning! Down almost another pound: 244.8. And that was after I'd had breakfast.
Hopefully, the thought of that will keep me going strong at the festivities today. I stashed a bottled water and a few diet Hansen's sodas in the cooler with all the beer we're bringing.
Disclaimer: Normally, I don't drink soda, but this is a special occasion. And it's a hell of a lot better than downing beers of margaritas, or succumbing to the siren's song of the liter bottles of Coke.
So I am using an old Weight Watchers technique- scripting what you want to say.
"No thanks, I'm full."
"Man, that margarita sounds great, but I can't drink with the meds I'm taking. I'll stick with soda, thanks!"
I am also wearing a fluttery sleveless silk top, which looked awful on me a couple of weeks ago, but that I can now wear with impunity. I will still feel enormous around all the cute little YOUNG and petite wives of the other guys (it's a military gathering- all the wives are this way. Except me.)
But, I am working on it. They cannot help being all cute and sweet and chirpy. As long as nobody asks about kids. Then I might go on a rampage with a spork. But that's a whoooole 'nother post, right there.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Fat Flashback #1
The scene: Luftenburg's, a bridal/special occasions store in Fresno.
I was 27, had recently lost around 60 lbs and had about 30 to go, and was getting married in a few months. I had chosen my wedding dress, and the day's mission was to find a complimentary tiara.
The "bridal consultants" ushered Mom and I past all the satin and tulle and embroidered dresses- snow white and ivory and pastels and metallics and jewel-tones.
The display cases were upstairs, and I started looking for what I want- something distinctive, but modest. I asked the hulking saleslady to see something in the case along those lines, and she started chatting with me.
"First wedding?"
I was still not used to playing the part of "blushing bride", but I was getting used to the typical line of questioning. "Oh, yes. For both of us, actually."
"My goodness...and you're- what, thirty? Thirty-five? That's wonderful! He must be a great guy."
My instinct was that this is probably not going to go well. In a few sentences, this woman had conveyed that I looked almost 10 years older than I was, and that she considered me lucky to have escaped my obvious future as a confirmed spinster because I found some poor slob desperate enough to actually make an honest woman of me. I desperately reasoned that I was, perhaps, being a little over-sensitive.
"I'm 27." I was hoping she was going to backpedal. Not this wench!
"oh- I thought you were older- it must be those clothes you're wearing."
She looked askance at my sleveless tweedy sweater and matching asymmetrical skirt. Both of which were very fashionable, although a little big on me due to the aforementioned weight loss and somewhat creased since I drove there right after work.
I was tempted to pull a Pretty Woman and ask her if she's paid on comission..."BIG mistake! HUGE!" etc. etc. There was no way I was buying anything from this goddamn toxic ho.
"Um Mom- I don't think I see what I am looking for."
Mom was busy pawing through the veils. She peered out of the enveloping folds of tulle and said,"Sweetie, just ask her if there's anything like that one you found online."
Allright. I was obviously not going to escape this gracefully.
"Yeah, OK." I tried not to sound too dubious. "Look, do you have anything like this-" I indicated a classic two-inch high hairpiece, "but with pearls?"
"Oh honey. Don't even bother with that tiny stuff. Here!"
She reached into the case, and pulled out, I swear to god, the crown that Glinda was wearing in the Wizard of Oz. It was over a foot high, and encrusted with rhinestones.It was truly a monstosity. It had arcs, swirls, and a center heart-shaped stone that was PINK and the size of a small walnut. I half-expected her to put it atop a satin pillow borne by a contingent of Munchkins.
I bit my tongue. "No, I'm afraid that's not what I'm looking for- I want to see a style like this one that I'm holding, and with pearls, if you have it."
She comes out from behind the counter, still bearing the hideous headpiece from hell.
"Here- just try it on!" Before I can do a damn thing, she grabs my hair, jerks it back from my forehead, then proceeds to jab me with hairpins like I am some kind of voodoo doll. "You want to look like a princess, don't you?! Now, look in the mirror!"
She beams like a bridal Nazi. On crack.
At this point, the only thing that is keeping me from thrusting the crown up her ass is the presence of my mother and the desperate desire not to turn Bridezilla on her.
I desperately am still trying to be polite. I glance over, (GAH! GAH! Get it off me!) and manage to say, "Sorry- I really don't like it." Instead of, "Back off, you nasty psychotic b*tch! Die! Die!" Which I really would have preferred.
Here's where it gets beyond the pale.
"Now, come on, you need a big crown up there to draw attention up to your face. You're a big girl, and it will help to balance out those hips!"
Mother f*cker! That thing was big enough to balance out Shamu. I wish I'd had a flamethrower. With all the acetate in that joint, the place would have gone up like a roman candle.
I ripped the awful thing of my head (which hurt like a mo-fo, by the way) and smacked it down on the counter with a loud "clunk!"
"Excuse me." I said, "We're finished here."
Later on, when I was still upset, my now-husband wanted me to call the management and report her. I never could bring myself to do it. For all I know, she's still working there- I never went back.
I was 27, had recently lost around 60 lbs and had about 30 to go, and was getting married in a few months. I had chosen my wedding dress, and the day's mission was to find a complimentary tiara.
The "bridal consultants" ushered Mom and I past all the satin and tulle and embroidered dresses- snow white and ivory and pastels and metallics and jewel-tones.
The display cases were upstairs, and I started looking for what I want- something distinctive, but modest. I asked the hulking saleslady to see something in the case along those lines, and she started chatting with me.
"First wedding?"
I was still not used to playing the part of "blushing bride", but I was getting used to the typical line of questioning. "Oh, yes. For both of us, actually."
"My goodness...and you're- what, thirty? Thirty-five? That's wonderful! He must be a great guy."
My instinct was that this is probably not going to go well. In a few sentences, this woman had conveyed that I looked almost 10 years older than I was, and that she considered me lucky to have escaped my obvious future as a confirmed spinster because I found some poor slob desperate enough to actually make an honest woman of me. I desperately reasoned that I was, perhaps, being a little over-sensitive.
"I'm 27." I was hoping she was going to backpedal. Not this wench!
"oh- I thought you were older- it must be those clothes you're wearing."
She looked askance at my sleveless tweedy sweater and matching asymmetrical skirt. Both of which were very fashionable, although a little big on me due to the aforementioned weight loss and somewhat creased since I drove there right after work.
I was tempted to pull a Pretty Woman and ask her if she's paid on comission..."BIG mistake! HUGE!" etc. etc. There was no way I was buying anything from this goddamn toxic ho.
"Um Mom- I don't think I see what I am looking for."
Mom was busy pawing through the veils. She peered out of the enveloping folds of tulle and said,"Sweetie, just ask her if there's anything like that one you found online."
Allright. I was obviously not going to escape this gracefully.
"Yeah, OK." I tried not to sound too dubious. "Look, do you have anything like this-" I indicated a classic two-inch high hairpiece, "but with pearls?"
"Oh honey. Don't even bother with that tiny stuff. Here!"
She reached into the case, and pulled out, I swear to god, the crown that Glinda was wearing in the Wizard of Oz. It was over a foot high, and encrusted with rhinestones.It was truly a monstosity. It had arcs, swirls, and a center heart-shaped stone that was PINK and the size of a small walnut. I half-expected her to put it atop a satin pillow borne by a contingent of Munchkins.
I bit my tongue. "No, I'm afraid that's not what I'm looking for- I want to see a style like this one that I'm holding, and with pearls, if you have it."
She comes out from behind the counter, still bearing the hideous headpiece from hell.
"Here- just try it on!" Before I can do a damn thing, she grabs my hair, jerks it back from my forehead, then proceeds to jab me with hairpins like I am some kind of voodoo doll. "You want to look like a princess, don't you?! Now, look in the mirror!"
She beams like a bridal Nazi. On crack.
At this point, the only thing that is keeping me from thrusting the crown up her ass is the presence of my mother and the desperate desire not to turn Bridezilla on her.
I desperately am still trying to be polite. I glance over, (GAH! GAH! Get it off me!) and manage to say, "Sorry- I really don't like it." Instead of, "Back off, you nasty psychotic b*tch! Die! Die!" Which I really would have preferred.
Here's where it gets beyond the pale.
"Now, come on, you need a big crown up there to draw attention up to your face. You're a big girl, and it will help to balance out those hips!"
Mother f*cker! That thing was big enough to balance out Shamu. I wish I'd had a flamethrower. With all the acetate in that joint, the place would have gone up like a roman candle.
I ripped the awful thing of my head (which hurt like a mo-fo, by the way) and smacked it down on the counter with a loud "clunk!"
"Excuse me." I said, "We're finished here."
Later on, when I was still upset, my now-husband wanted me to call the management and report her. I never could bring myself to do it. For all I know, she's still working there- I never went back.
Flashback Favorites
I can't tell you why I am posting the Fat Flashbacks in addition to my regular weight loss blogging. Maybe it's a way of exorcising an old demon. Either way- I think these recollections make me stronger, somehow.
Why the $%#@ am I up so late?
Good question, grasshopper.
Another good day. I am getting into the groove of the weight thing. Although....waffles are still souding very attractive.
It's been a psychotic couple of days. Between news from my dad and some health stuff I have going on, and my dog escaping into the neighbor's yard today- argh. But on the weight loss front, things are going well!
I got up this morning and weighed, and (since I was up 1 lb. yesterday, presumably from drinking a few gallons of water) I lost that pound plus one more. Hooray! So I am now officially 245.6. Of course, my body fat went up, but I know that's an exercise thing, and it goes with the weight loss territory. *Sigh*
I am starting slow with the exercise. I have been doing lots of housework, and I wish I had the pedometer so I could monitor my progress. I went shopping today, and did a lot of strolling around with my buddy- and we saw a movie and out to dinner.
I was sooooo good- bottled water at the movies, and salmon at the restaurant, which I cut in half! I also managed to ignore the bread basket, which is a minor miracle. Later on, I walked to Koffeeheadz from my house with my neighbor (instead of driving- it's a 15 minute trek, for pete's sake! And I wanted to thank him for corralling my wayward 90 lb. canine from hell) where I traded in my usual hedonistic peanut butter shake-based coffee drink (with whipped cream! GAH!) for something much lighter.
Oh, hey- if you haven't seen Cinderella Man yet- go see it. Reallly, really good. Even though the fight sequences caused me to clench my teeth and wince and ocassionally squeeze my eyes shut. The parts where the protagonist is with his wife and kids were so fantastic: he just seems like such a GOOD person. Russ and Renee had great chemistry and did a tip-top job, and of course, the guy from Sideways (good 'ol what's his name) was phenomenal too.
So- I am working exercise in. I also got all homemaker-y today and made light spaghetti sauce (ground turkey added to organic marinara) and the enriched Barilla wheat angelhair pasta, and put half in one big Tupperware, and the rest into single-serving containers- enough in each one to grab for quick meals for hubby or myself.
I also grilled a few stray chicken breasts and cut up strawberries so I will be more likely to reach for them as snacks, and I hard-boiled some eggs.
I also have to say- I am so glad we have a water purifier on our fridge. We got a statement from the water board today reviewing the mineral/contaminant levels of the H2O here in Fresno. Holy crap.
Especially considering how much water I drink, I am glad that we've been converted over for awhile. At the same time, I wonder how a standard water filter measures up to "hexavalent chromium". That's right, folks! Hexavalent chromium- It's what's for dinner.
Call me paranoid- but between that and what they say about the hormones in meat and stuff, and their effects on children (particularly girls), I am thinking going organic at every opportunity is looking better and better.
As someone who wants to have kids sometime soon, I worry about how much of that stuff I have ingested and how that fits into the bigger picture. So many people I know struggle with weird health problems- people who are otherwise young and healthy- and part of me wonders how all the crap in the food we eat and the water we drink affects us on a grander scale.
Don't get me wrong. I loooooove my burgers, and admittedly could become addicted to Coca Cola with very little effort on my part. But for a meat and potatoes girl like me to start worrying about this is a new and depressing thing.
Maybe it's because my priorities are changing. Hopefully, it doesn't mean I am going to start wearing that perfume that smells like dirt and using the ineffective crystal deodorant. However, it does mean that I made the switch to henna from hair dye last month. I love it, although it smells disturbingly like frozen peas. But I digress.
OK- here's what's on the menu:
Breakfast: skipped- I was busy uh, sleeping in. (Bad Jenna!)
Lunch: Wheat spaghetti w/ lite sauce and ground turkey, broccoli, nectarine
Dinner: Salmon, French Onion soup, broccoli (yes, again!)and 1/2 baked potato with a dab of butter.
Snack: Iced double skinny vanilla latte
Water: around 64 oz.
Exercise: trekking to and fro.
Another good day. I am getting into the groove of the weight thing. Although....waffles are still souding very attractive.
It's been a psychotic couple of days. Between news from my dad and some health stuff I have going on, and my dog escaping into the neighbor's yard today- argh. But on the weight loss front, things are going well!
I got up this morning and weighed, and (since I was up 1 lb. yesterday, presumably from drinking a few gallons of water) I lost that pound plus one more. Hooray! So I am now officially 245.6. Of course, my body fat went up, but I know that's an exercise thing, and it goes with the weight loss territory. *Sigh*
I am starting slow with the exercise. I have been doing lots of housework, and I wish I had the pedometer so I could monitor my progress. I went shopping today, and did a lot of strolling around with my buddy- and we saw a movie and out to dinner.
I was sooooo good- bottled water at the movies, and salmon at the restaurant, which I cut in half! I also managed to ignore the bread basket, which is a minor miracle. Later on, I walked to Koffeeheadz from my house with my neighbor (instead of driving- it's a 15 minute trek, for pete's sake! And I wanted to thank him for corralling my wayward 90 lb. canine from hell) where I traded in my usual hedonistic peanut butter shake-based coffee drink (with whipped cream! GAH!) for something much lighter.
Oh, hey- if you haven't seen Cinderella Man yet- go see it. Reallly, really good. Even though the fight sequences caused me to clench my teeth and wince and ocassionally squeeze my eyes shut. The parts where the protagonist is with his wife and kids were so fantastic: he just seems like such a GOOD person. Russ and Renee had great chemistry and did a tip-top job, and of course, the guy from Sideways (good 'ol what's his name) was phenomenal too.
So- I am working exercise in. I also got all homemaker-y today and made light spaghetti sauce (ground turkey added to organic marinara) and the enriched Barilla wheat angelhair pasta, and put half in one big Tupperware, and the rest into single-serving containers- enough in each one to grab for quick meals for hubby or myself.
I also grilled a few stray chicken breasts and cut up strawberries so I will be more likely to reach for them as snacks, and I hard-boiled some eggs.
I also have to say- I am so glad we have a water purifier on our fridge. We got a statement from the water board today reviewing the mineral/contaminant levels of the H2O here in Fresno. Holy crap.
Especially considering how much water I drink, I am glad that we've been converted over for awhile. At the same time, I wonder how a standard water filter measures up to "hexavalent chromium". That's right, folks! Hexavalent chromium- It's what's for dinner.
Call me paranoid- but between that and what they say about the hormones in meat and stuff, and their effects on children (particularly girls), I am thinking going organic at every opportunity is looking better and better.
As someone who wants to have kids sometime soon, I worry about how much of that stuff I have ingested and how that fits into the bigger picture. So many people I know struggle with weird health problems- people who are otherwise young and healthy- and part of me wonders how all the crap in the food we eat and the water we drink affects us on a grander scale.
Don't get me wrong. I loooooove my burgers, and admittedly could become addicted to Coca Cola with very little effort on my part. But for a meat and potatoes girl like me to start worrying about this is a new and depressing thing.
Maybe it's because my priorities are changing. Hopefully, it doesn't mean I am going to start wearing that perfume that smells like dirt and using the ineffective crystal deodorant. However, it does mean that I made the switch to henna from hair dye last month. I love it, although it smells disturbingly like frozen peas. But I digress.
OK- here's what's on the menu:
Breakfast: skipped- I was busy uh, sleeping in. (Bad Jenna!)
Lunch: Wheat spaghetti w/ lite sauce and ground turkey, broccoli, nectarine
Dinner: Salmon, French Onion soup, broccoli (yes, again!)and 1/2 baked potato with a dab of butter.
Snack: Iced double skinny vanilla latte
Water: around 64 oz.
Exercise: trekking to and fro.
Friday, July 01, 2005
I can do this.
Throwing My Weight Around
If I keep repeating it enough...it'll be true.
I had a great day yesterday. My husband came home at midnight, we went to bed and just snuggled up and talked for awhile. Everything was blissful and wonderful, until suddenly-
I wanted pancakes. Out of the freaking blue. I don't even really LIKE pancakes. After relaying to my brain to be reasonable, that I am not a pancake fan, although I would never say no to a belgian waffle...the mere suggestion of waffles caused every waffle-related synapse in my brain to light up like Las Vegas at night and I began to salivate like a rabid dog.
As I recall, this goes away, eventually. Maybe I need an exorcism.
The Menu (NO WAFFLES!)
Breakfast: skipped (dammit)
Lunch: Green salad with grilled chicken breast and kidney/garbanzo beans
Dinner: Sushi
Snack: grapes
Water: 64+ oz.
Exercise: Grocery shopping
If I keep repeating it enough...it'll be true.
I had a great day yesterday. My husband came home at midnight, we went to bed and just snuggled up and talked for awhile. Everything was blissful and wonderful, until suddenly-
I wanted pancakes. Out of the freaking blue. I don't even really LIKE pancakes. After relaying to my brain to be reasonable, that I am not a pancake fan, although I would never say no to a belgian waffle...the mere suggestion of waffles caused every waffle-related synapse in my brain to light up like Las Vegas at night and I began to salivate like a rabid dog.
As I recall, this goes away, eventually. Maybe I need an exorcism.
The Menu (NO WAFFLES!)
Breakfast: skipped (dammit)
Lunch: Green salad with grilled chicken breast and kidney/garbanzo beans
Dinner: Sushi
Snack: grapes
Water: 64+ oz.
Exercise: Grocery shopping
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