Thursday, December 13, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
We went to P.F. Changs, then over to Borders to use their goddamned impossibly good coupons. 3 CD's for $10.45 each? We'll take 30.
As a public service announcement, Squirrel would like to tell the world that while Italy is great, Venice was the best part. Ahem.
So we are in Borders, digesting our Chinese food, and makng an attempt to find CD's that meet the criteria on the coupon (no double discs, nothing UNDER the sale price, etc.) and just talking about our respective days.
Me: I got bawled out by a customer today.
Me: She kept repeating that I wasn't "listening to what she was axeing."
Me: It was an experience.
S: Were you not listening?
Me: I listen just fine...I think it may have been her communicating that was a little off. She kept repeating, "So you just have 14's, right?" And she was waving a jacket at me, and I said that we did have 14's, and they were throughout the store, and the jacket she was looking at was on sale, and there were no more in the back, so if there wasn't a 14 there, we didn't have any more. Then she blew up at me that I wasn't listening to what she was axeing.
S: Great. I remember there was a kid who went to catholic school with me, and he said axe instead of ask. One of the nuns would just grill him in front of everyone every time he did it.
Me: Poor kid.
S: I know. She was really mean.... she was like a demon. A Demon Nun.
Me: Hehehe...Demon NUN? That has a nice ring to it. That's going to be the name of our chick band. The Demon Nuns.
S: It sounds like a play on "demon rum"
Me: I was actually thinking of "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Nun Of Fleet Street".
S: I totally want to see that movie.
Me: How did I get from "axeing" to Sweeney Todd? How non-linear is THAT?
S: It's not much a a jump actually, if you think about it.
Monday, September 24, 2007
1. Baby penguins. Even when they make me cry. I think they are the cutest animal babies ever. (And yes, that is a bold statement, but I am prepared to back it up.
2. Knitting- relaxing, engaging, incredibly frustrating, but also incredibly rewarding.
3. Kids books. I have the whole Anne Of Green Gables set, Chonicles of Narnia, all the Louisa May Alcott stuff, and of course, Harry Potter.
5. Felt tip markers and the 64 pack of Crayolas. I just like to have them.
6. My wedding ring- a vintage design, from the fifties.
7. The front courtyard, which we made ourselves- when it’s done, it will be my fave place to hang out.
8. Fresh fruit- especially strawberries and pineapple.
9. Bearded iris- Especially the ones that smell heavenly.
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Stray Cats (original lineup! EEeeeeeeee!) started off, and they were the highlight for me. They were totally on top of their game. Of course Bryan Setzer has been busy with his orchestra and other stuff, so he's never stopped singing and performing, but the three of them put on an amazing show. There were only a few people who had obviously just come to see them- the Bettie Page bangs and tattooed sleeves and pompadours were pretty thin on the ground- but the whole audience caught on quickly and most of the floor section was on their feet after the first song. And they played my favorite, Fishnet Stockings, which was really unexpected.
Any group who has been around since the 1980's and can still vault over their drum kits and stand on the upright bass while playing...mad props. You guys are killer!
The Pretenders, to be fair, also played a wonderful set. (No Middle Of The Road though... hmph) However they flunked the "Know Your Audience" portion of the evening. Chrissie Hynde gave a shout out to all the animal activists in the audience.
This was met with an almost deafening silence. You could see her brain processing- Ok, you're in Fresno....maybe they didn't get it? So then she gave a shoutout to the vegetarians. Which perhaps isn't what you would want to do at a concert when ZZ-Top is the headliner, and you're following a rockabilly act, and you're in one of the only conservative patches of California.
There was booing. There was hissing. Secret Squirrel and I were still cool with her, until she stuck out her chest and flexed and said, "Well, I guess if you're not a vegetarian, you don't want to look like THIS!
Okay. For the record, she does look great, although a big part of that is due to the long shaggy bangs that cover a multitude of sins. (As I said to Secret Squirrel- Yeah, that's a pretty good long-range plan...if nobody's ever seen your forehead, who's to say how wrinkled it is? You could be a Shar-pei under there.)
However, the way not to endear yourself to your audience is to imply that they're a bunch of obese assholes.
And it may have had an unintended effect on Secret Squirrel and I. We skipped ZZ-Top and went to a steakhouse, where we both made a concerted effort to order the reddest meat we could find.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
"You know, I just remember waking up snuggled next to you, the first time you spent the night. It was raining that morning, and it was just so great to be able to hold you close and look at your beautiful face while you were sleeping. I couldn't believe that you were there with me. And I thought to myself, 'I wonder how long it will take for me to totally screw this up?' "
You know, I complain a lot, but moments like this make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
No, not the dreaded Phen Phen- my crack of choice was called Bontril, and yes, it worked.
It also made me completely insane. Right before my wedding, I stopped taking it, mainly because I was under enough stress without being so cracked out I was unable to sleep.
But at some point, I bought some pills from a shady online pharmacy, and at some point, they have sold my name to some other shady online pharmacies, all of whom seem to outsource their telephone solicitations to India.
Every couple of months, they inundate me with phone calls for a few days.
Have I mentioned that I am also on the Do Not Call List?
I finally got fed up and checked the rules for companies you have done business with in the past, and they explicitly state that any company you have done business with can call you, within 18 months after your last transaction. After that, not only are they just like any other phone solicitor, but they can be fined up to $11,000 if they keep calling. Take that, suckers!
So I reported them. And now I am HOPING that they are stupid enough to call me again.
Yes, I have a list. And I am already dressed for the gym, which is literally amazing. My Gigabeat is charging- now I just need to find my freakin' gym card.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
I taught two groups of kids for science camp last week, and between that and my progesterone, I would get home every day and conk out until about 7PM.
I am finally recovered, for the most part. Woohoo!
Things are running pretty smoothly in my neck of the woods. BowGirl is getting divorced (which she is very very happy about) and Secret Squirrel has a boyfriend.
Now, if I could just stay awake for long enough to do the laundry.
Friday, July 27, 2007
This picture was taken in Monterey, the weekend we got engaged.
We've both gained a few pounds since then, and are definitely not as tan, but we're still as disgustingly lovey as a couple of teenagers. Not like we make out in front of everyone, but we do hold hands a lot.
My relatives refer to us as "the lovebirds". Which is sweet.
Happy Anniversary, my love!
As you put it, five down, ninety-five more to go.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Sometimes, you get it so very wrong. But every once in awhile, it is so, so right.
Ladies, if you are of the plus-size persuasion, this is some seriosuly great news.
Lane Bryant has decided to come up with three different figure types for their jeans. Jeans which have no sequins anywhere. One cut for women who are hourglass, one for women who are more pear-shaped, and one for women who are slimmer through the hip and thigh, but have a bigger waist.
I have always had a problem with jeans, particularly since this whole low-rise thing has been going on. I am long-waisted, which means that those jeans inevitably hit me at the widest part of my hip, and barely cover anything that they need to cover. And if they fit me in the waist, they are huge through the seat and thighs.
I love the new jeans at LB. LOVE them. They are even better than my so-called "magic" jeans, those Long & Lean jeans from The Gap.
I was looking in the mirror in astonishment, and accidentally sold two other women on them.
One of them actually insisted that I needed to turn around and look at my ass in the three-way mirror.
"Seriously...sweetheart! Years from now, you will want to remember how your butt looks in those jeans! Take a picture or something when you get home!"
Wow. Trust me...if those jeans can do that for me, what can they do for you?
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Trust me when I say that I cannot believe the effort it took to accomplish that. I am not in the best place in the world, but not the worst place either, and I guess I can live with that.
I taught kids about polymers yesterday, and they got a list of things around the house that are all polymers. There are some weird things on the list (caulking, insulation, and flash cubes. Flash Cubes! Let's party like it's 1979!) so I tell the kids to circle the ones they use and to raise their hands if they have a question about what something is.
One little girl raised her hand and I came over.
"What is it sweetie?"
She pointed to one of the words on the list, which just happened to be pantyhose, and looked up at me with wide eyes.
"Is this...is this a HOSE that you use to wash your PANTIES?!!!"
I could tell she wanted to die of mortification. I am not sure if she thought she was not practicing proper panty maintenance, or that she was horrified that such a thing could exist. Why would you need to hose out your panties? OMG! Grown-ups are INSANE!
I did my level best not to laugh, and gently explained that they were tights or nylons, and yes, those were a polymer, and she seemed vastly reassurred.
Yesterday's fortune cookie: You never hesitate to tackle the most difficult problems.
My dining partner's fortune cookie: You will always be in good health.
Since I spent yesterday wallowing in chocolate and my lunch buddy is currently in the middle of radiation therapy, the irony was lost on neither of us.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Guess who went to Walgreens and bought the following:
1. 3 pack of pregnancy tests
2. Box of tampons
3. two big-ass bars of chocolate.
I didn't see the funny side of this until a few hours later (t-minus one chocolate bar and counting) but the fact that I can see the humor in the situation means that I guess I am going to be OK.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
I have recently had two friends accidentally accomplish something that I have been working my ass off to achieve (and failed, repeatedly) for the last four years.
I equate it to be the emotional equivalent of spending tons of money, and slogging your way though the academic trenches to get into your dream college, only to find out that they're giving out honorary degrees to people who never even wanted to attend that school, anyway.
Somebody up there has a really fantastic sense of humor.
The Man seems to be espousing a "Hey! Things happen in threes! That leaves one up for grabs!" aesthetic, and actually, so far I am not giving in to the crying jags or the major jealousies which seem to go along with being in this particular situation. I am weirdly (eerily, spookily) calm.
More waiting and seeing- although now it's at least an amount I can deal with. Until the next round. Althouhg if you are a reular reader, it's probably become fairly obvious over time that waiting is not one of my talents. Even if it is just, say, 24 hours.
Cryptic? Yeah. Oh well!
Saturday, July 07, 2007
I almost feel sorry for her. It's raining, and well. You can say what you like about the Germans, and maybe I am generalizing here, but they are not exactly a "funky" people.
I'm not kidding. She's shimmying all over the place, and yelling "Come ON!" and except for a small swath in the front, the whole audience looks confused.
I suppose she should be happy she's not in that band that performed in Antarctica, which had an audience of about 12. (Give or take a penguin.)
Friday, July 06, 2007
Lemon Aid, By Benefit
If you have veiny eyelids (as I do) this stuff is the bomb. It lightens and brightens. If you use it by itself, it gives the impression that you've gotten actual sleep. It also hangs onto your eyeshadow like no man's business.
I actually use two of these products, Optimologist and MediMatte. I have gotten a ridiculous amount to compliments on my skin (something I thought would never, ever happen) since I started using both of these.
The infamous Shu Uemura Eyelash Curler
This damn thing has been mentioned in every freaking beauty magazine and by countless celebs as the best eyelash curler money can buy. I saw it in the checkout line at Sephora and demanded that the salesperson tell me just what was so great about this thing. She said that it doesn't pinch your lids, it gives your lashes more of an honest curl rather than a sharp crimp, and it gets all your lashes in there.
Anyway, I was a sucker, and I broke down and coughed up the 18 bucks. And I am so glad that I did, because girl was not a filthy liar. I love this thing and want to sleep with it under my pillow.
Smokey Eyes by Pop Beauty
The packaging is phenomenal, and the range of colors is great. I started out very carefully, and now I use every single color in this palette at least once a week, which is no mean feat. I like to use these in conjunction with my Bare Escentuals brushes, and it's a breeze to apply, not to mention versatile and great for travel.
Kiss Me mascara by Blinc
I bought this on a whim, and so far my two best friends, sister, and mother have also acquired it, to the tune of $24 each. I should get commission. anyway, this stuff forms little tubes around your lashes, which are impervious to water, sweat and tears, but the combo of water and pressure make them slide off when you wash your face at night. It doesn't run or smudge, so "raccoon eyes" just don't happen anymore. Both Mom and Secret Squirrel solemnly say that this stuff is "life altering- I can put mascara on my bottom lashes now!" And those ladies are tough customers, so that's a serious coup.
For the budgetary minded (yeah, I'm right there with you):
Cheek Stain by Sephora
These are six bucks each right now, and they're really versatile, easy, and natural-looking. I have them in Pink and Nude, and they give you a really prety sheer wash of color.
Mineral Makeup by Physician's Formula
Yeah, drugstore makeup!
I was a Bare Minerals convert, but I would go though that stuff at a ridiculous rate, and I missed the convenience of the pressed powder for my purse. This stuff is a fantastic (and much cheaper- you get more powder for less money). The only drawback- you need a good application brush to go with it, the one in the package is crap. I use my old Bare Minerals brushes, and it works like a dream.
I am a big enough fan to need to go to every single midnight movie and book release, but luckily not dorky enough to have a wand with my name on it, so my friends and The Man generally humor me.
Yes, we already got the tickets for the midnight showing on Tuesday. Now I just need to pre-order my book, so I can get book 7 at midnight the night before as well.
Yes, I am a large child.
Monday, June 18, 2007
So, I am taking a break. Hopefully my issues will be resolved sooner, rather than later, and I can go back to writing about things that are light and entertaining, rather than bitching about my back fat and the long-suffering people who make up my support system.
Thanks for reading...see you in a few.
Evidently, when you mess around with your hormones, bad things happen.
I went to the gym 5 days last week. And last night, The Man snuggled up with me and says "mmmmmm...honey, have you gained weight?" He could tell by looking at my BACK. AIIIIGH!
I have. These hormones are killing me. I am trying to stay active and keep my eye on the prize, blah blah blah. Hopefully, this month, it will pay off.
Monday, June 04, 2007
I was walking into the store yesterday, when I noticed a man in a truck. He was sitting there and I THOUGHT he was talking on the phone.
"Gee, " I thought. "That phone is awfully far away from his face. He's not talking...maybe the person on the other end is really loud? And why is he moving it in an arc as I walk past?"
Then the light bulb (in my head) went off. That jerk was either filming me or taking my picture as I walked past! And there is absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I am so creeped out and irritated by this. Gah!! Gah!!!!
So either I am going to provide wanking material or I am about to become a Glamour Don't.
All of them have immediately recognized me, known my name (first and last), where they knew me from, and in some cases, what college I went to and that I got married.
Granted, I wasn't on a best-friend basis with any of them (two women I went to high school with, and one guy I went to church with) . But the fact that they knew all of these things about me, when all I could do was stare blankly is a little embarrassing. I mean, I could register them as being vaguely familiar-looking but indistinguishable from the cable repairman or the next door neighbor.
There are also scads of people who "recognize" me, usually about one a week. "Don't I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar!" I just smile and say that there must be some other ahem "generously proportioned" woman with similar coloring, who looks a little bit like me.
And now I'm thinking, "Shit! What if that was my gynocologist? or someone I used to babysit?" And of course, I am drawing a complete blank.
This is getting embarrassing. Espectially because they all these people who know me from high school basically say that I look exactly the same, and I patently do not (hello, FIFTY pounds!!!!). I am guessing that looking thirty when you are actually 16 may have its benefits. Let's hope it carries over into my fifties.
So yeah, it's beginning to bother me that I can't remember names and associate them with faces. Is it just that I'm preoccupied, or do I have a brain tumor? And have I mentioned that Alzheimer's and senile dementia run in my family?
Perhaps you too will be able to recognize me in a few more decades. I will be the really young-looking old lady wearing all the sequins and a pair of bunny slippers, announcing loudly that the bed linens in the store window are "nipple pink!" While my minders discreetly try to bundle me back onto my Lark.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Well, that happened to me last night. I think it may have been magnified by the fact that I was not drinking, and she was.
I feel bad, because I really do like this person, but basically she had a couple of shots and turned into a rampaging ho. She always has liked attention from men, and that's cool, but....We're talking, she was
Acting slutty and desperate is not high on my list of things to do on a Friday night. I am not a prude, but I was incredibly embarrassed to be associated with her. (I have no wish to appear slutty by association.) And I couldn't leave, because she had driven over from the restaurant.
As soon as The Man got out of work, I asked him to please, PLEASE come and get me. I asked my drunk friend to send me a text when she got home safely. I would have stayed until the bitter end, but watching her act that way was seriously torture.
She did send me a text, to the effect that one of the guys she was talking to (someone I vaguely know) had text-messaged her a picture of his penis. Oh, and she had just gotten home.
Me: He sent you a penis pic?!
Drunk Friend: Yeah! Do you want to know-
Me: NO! I am very happy not knowing. Please don't tell me.
Me: You know, if a guy has a picture like that in his cell phone, how many women do you think he's shown it to?
DF: I dunno. Most of the guys I know have those pics in their phones.
Me: Are you serious?
DF: It's a guy thing. That, and they always have a picture of their car.
OK. Am I just a complete and utter Pollyanna? I am trying to be objective about it, but I really want to know if I am being a dork, or what. I would bet money that most of the men I know don't have a pic of the big P that they send out to random women. So either I am delusional, or her male friends are uncouth. I am thinking it's probably the latter. Any thoughts?
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Our house was built in the early 80's, which means that 27 or so years have gone by, and therefore we have some big-ass trees out there. Also, it's a good-sized yard. Not that we ever go out in it.
It pains me to admit this, but our doggie sanitation is not the best.
I finally couldn't stand it anymore and decided to get to work this morning. I grabbed the scooper, and took about 30 minutes to get things back to a point where they were at least livable. Then I grabbed the loppers and a hedge trimmer, and went a little nuts. There are two enormous piles of brush obscuring our entire back lawn, but I need to let them dry out so they can be shredded into mulch.
I also pulled a bunch of weeds and dug up two dead stumps and ripped out a bunch of seedlings.
Bear, our big dumb dog, is part Chow, which means he sheds a serious undercoat every year. I swept off the patio, and ended up with a pile of fuzz that was the size of a sheep.
Then since the patio was clean, I decided to break up the spider convention that has been congregating on the stucco siding of our house.
The upshot is, I spent 4 hours outside, and I have sort of reclaimed the back yard.
Woohoo! I am proud. Amd it counts as exercise, right?
I have been trying a "new thing".
I'm not going to draw too many conclusions, but on paper, this week looks like crap.
I have gained 4 lbs.
Before I started to freak out, I remembered this:
I did have one bad day of eating, but I know that there is no logical reason for a 4 lb. weight gain. The bad eating wasn't up to "ate an entire cheesecake" levels.
Maybe it has to do with the fact that Trader Joe's is out of my fave high fiber cereal? We'll see if we can't eradicate that problem this week.
Add to that fact that I have been taking meds that seriously mess with my hormones.
Also, I am raring to go back to the gym, but online research and pleas from The Man make me think that I should lie low this past week and the coming week. I do have some yoga DVD's, and I plan to be doing a lot of work around the house and walking on the treadmill. So all is not lost, although I do feel like a slacker. I will still be as motivated (for better or worse) in a week or so.
Still, four pounds! Aiiigh! OK, girl, shake it off. Your jeans still fit just as loosely as they did last week.
Add to that, I finally met up with an old friend for lunch. She has lost 60 lbs, and is a shadow of her former self. (And she didn't warn me before we met up, either!)
She looks great, and she is going through a divorce, so I find it difficult to be resentful. Plus, I can't be too bitter, because she is taking diet pills, which I know works for me, because of the wanting to have a baby thing, and also because I have tried them, and they do work, but they also make me a little insane.
Still it made it a little easier to decline the buttermilk spice muffin from Mimi's the other day.
That's right, I turned down a muffin and gained 4 lbs. Hopefully I'll have better karma next week!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
(That's right- I actually do care.)
So here's the generalized update- this week and next are centered on a few strictly timed doctor's appointments, and sometime over the weekend I get to give myself a shot in the abdomen.
I am vascillating between staying away from whiskey cold turkey, or just getting wasted and giving myself the shot.
Hey! Cold Turkey vs. Wild Turkey! It's a toss-up.
It (the shot) supposedy is easy, but I am freaking out about it. And so is my mom.
"You have to do it yourself?!!!"
"Yeah. I'll manage."
"Maybe you could take it to the ER and explain, and they could do it for you."
"They are going to be way too worried about gunshot victims to give me a shot, Mom. Plus, I don't think ovulation counts as an emergency."
"What about our next door neighbor...the one who stitched up your leg?"
"He's a pediatrician. I was ten!"
"But he knows how to give shots! He could do it!"
"I am NOT going over there with a syringe and requesting that the poor man give me a shot in the abdomen!"
With my luck, Mom called him as soon as I left, explained everything, and asked him to show up at my house at 9:30 PM on Sunday night.
Don't think that she wouldn't. This is a woman who wrote a letter to my doctor outlining all my "health issues" and sent it to my doctor a week in advance of my appointment. When I was 22.
Entertaining anecdote: I was at my dive bar over the weekend, and the bartender gave me his number and said he wants to go to sushi with my buddies and I.
He was doing that "leaning" thing at the time, so it could go either way. Or he could just be really friendly. Or he could be planning to ask us if we're about a size 14 and then drag us to his basement in order to skin us and make a suit to transform himself into a real woman.
I am not sure what to think, except that there are plenty of single, skinny girls who would be happy to accompany him to a Japanese restaurant. Why me? I don't think he appreciates my sparkling wit, such as it is. What gives, bartender?
The reason I think he may actually be a teensy bit interested: That same night, a guy seated two barstools away spotted my (prominently displayed) wedding ring.
Since I hadn't talked or made eye contact with him, it took me a minute to figure out A. who he was talking to, and B. where this was going.
"Yes, I am married."
"Wow. Do you know, you're a total MILF?"
For some ridiculous reason (OK, because I am a dork) I felt the need to explain that the first word in the acronym MILF is actually Mom, and since I am not a mom, I would have to be a WILF. The W could stand for Woman, or Wife, or Whatever.
(Jenna! Just shut up! Quit being an ass and arguing about acronyms! Oh shit, you just made eye contact!)
"Doesn't matter. You definitely are one."
I wish I could be, you know, offended. Instead, I am analyzing it, which is just lame. Hey, who knew? Maybe I was having a good boob day or something.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Scheduling my gym appointments the night before has been invaluable. I am a lot less likely to skip out if I have reserved a block of time in advance. After the trial run this week, I think 2 days on, 1 day off, 2 days on, 2 days off as a schedule really works well for me.
It has been a fantastic week in terms of getting on track and just going for it. I made it to the gym 4 times this week, once for Zumba class, and the other three occasions I was giving Mr. Elliptical the workout of his life.
I am thinking that I need to come up with a more catchy moniker for poor Mr. Elliptical. We spend a lot of time together. Ed, maybe? I'll think about it. The Man actually refers to the gym as "your other boyfriend." So this would tie in nicely.
I was ellipticallating (or something) away the other day, blaring The Fratellis on my gigabeat, when a slim older lady stopped in front to me and made little bowing motions at me. When I yanked my earbuds out so I could hear her, she said, "I just wanted to tell you: I can't stop watching you. You're an inspiration! Have a great day!!!!"
OK, weird, but nice. Well meant. Right? I am trying to interpret it in a positive way, not in a "Congratulations, fat person, for getting up off the couch and ditching the ho-ho's!" kind of way.
I know. I am the only person alive who would put that kind of spin on it. I need to cut that out.
Weight-wise, I am down to where I was after the nasty barfing incident of a few weeks ago. But my body is in a much better place, I know that more of the weight is muscle than it was before. I can feel that my body is poised to gain more ground and lose more pounds. I do need to measure, because I know I have lost inches.
The best part is that I can see the difference, and so can other people, which is kind of hilarious. Evidently, it kind of snuck up on all of us. I got out of the car the other night, and my two buddies both said, "Whoa!!! HOW much weight have you lost?!!"
It's only 15 lbs. I keep telling myself that. It's not a lot of weight, and I have lost it pretty slowly. Most of the time, I can't even tell the difference. But evidently, other people can.
And actually, if I think about it, 15 lbs. is approximately 1/3 of the way to my first goal. I am 1/3 of the way closer to losing 45 lbs! It's pretty hard to believe.
Today is the first day that I noticed a real, visible, physical difference. I was wearing my babydoll pj's, and I realized that my legs looked a lot thinner. (Thanks, Ed!) So I decided to dig into the Drawer Of Shame.
The Drawer of Shame is a relic of yesteryear. It is a testament to my delisional consumer-driven folly.
Basically, Old Navy was having a great sale on shorts, and I bought FIVE pairs of them without trying them on, which is a mistake I will never make again. Because of course, when I did get home, I tried to put them on. And every last pair was low-rise, way too tight to button, and also had an inseam which just was not going to work, to put it politely.
I banished them to the Drawer Of Shame. I have hated my legs for the past two years anyway, so I didn't even think about them until today. I rescued them from the drawer with doubt written all over my face, and I tried them on.
And they fit!!!! THEY FIT!!!!!!
I am wearing the khaki pair right now. Yeeehaaaaa!
Saturday, May 19, 2007
I haven't been posting, mainly because "I worked! And I went to the gym!" is kind of a yawner.
And then this afternoon I will be cleaning (More yawns.)
I have been going out with the girls for the past two nights, which has been entertaining. Since I am the old married lady of the three of us (BowGirl doesn't count) I am enjoying the opportunity to rest on my laurels and show 20 % less boob.
Things I have learned from being the married friend:
1. Being married? Not necessarily a deterrent.
Out of the last 5 men who have hit on me, when I dropped the bombshell that I was married, three of them said "Oh! Me too!"
Seriously. Like we had something amazing in common, like being obsessed with Scrabble or secretly watching Golden Girls re-runs.
2. The self-image of many men has no basis in reality.
The guy who is 60 if he's a day comes up to my friends and I.
"Well...you ladies must be a lot younger than me, but I thought I'd come and talk to you anyway!
We are polite girls. We introduced ourselves. Which is a mistake, because Jay who was wearing a stained day-glo orance t-shirt stretched revealingly over his beer gut, had an actual CANE that he kept making obscene motions with and had evidently never heard of the phrase, "Say it, don't spray it."
He lingered throughout the evening like a bad smell. Hey we talked to him...we must want him!
3. Male awkwardness? Strangely cute...at least, to me.
It's kind of an aphrodesiac to know that you're making some guy so nervous and jittery that he knocks his drink over when he is trying to convey to you exactly HOW cool his motorcycle is.
Of course, it also helps if the guy in question is cute. YMMV.
4. Other women glaring at you can be a good thing.
On one hand, it makes you really uncomfortable. On the other hand, since you haven't committed any scorching faux-pas, it must be because you look really hot and they feel threatened.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
5. If you head out to a dive, giving yourself a "bar name" makes the evening.
Seriously. Whenever Tiffany, Crystal, and Lula Mae get together, we are unstoppable.
Yeah...guess which one I am?
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
The fact that I am going to have to do it again kind of makes my brain squeak in terror, but I will, because the Zumba class? Most. Fun. Ever.
One of my favorite parts is that the instructor isn't skinny. Hooray!
I took the day off from the gym today- date night is tonight, and I also don't want to burn out. I am actually forcing myself to NOT go to the gym this morning, which feels kind of crazy.
In other news, my visit to the doctor yesterday went well. Scary meds should commence this evening. I am battening down the hatches for the inevitable weeping and crankiness that are soon to come.
I have already been a little....well, miffed. Probably because of sleep deprivation. I know that's a part of it- The Man doesn't come home until midnight, and I am up until at least one, and then getting up at 5 or 6 AM...well.
The other factor is of course, the computer games.
The Man has noticed my crankiness, and has been doing that man thing where he offers to help 2 seconds before I finish the thing I am doing.
Like, "Do you want help with dinner?" when I have already finished making spaghetti, sauce, squash, steamed broccoli, and am taking the garlic bread out from under the broiler. We like spaghetti, so I made a ton of it and also of the sides, so we could have it for lunches the rest of the week.
So last night I said, "You know what honey? I am exhausted, and I am going to bed early. Would you mind putting away the food? "
Sure, he said, no problem.
I just got up and looked in the fridge, and maybe I am overreacting, but I just want to cry.
Evidently he stayed up playing games long after I went to bed, and then just threw the food into the fridge as is. No Tupperware. No Saran Wrap. It's just thrown haphazardly into bowls or left naked on the plate I served it on. My first impulse was to drag it out and then haphazardly repackage it...but why?
The (Huge! Expensive!)squash that I steamed for a week of lunches is ruined. Broccoli is completely out of the question. The spaghetti is a rubbery wad of gluey noodles, because he didn't add the sauce to it. The sauce may be salvageable, but I am wondering how long it sat out on the counter before he put it away, and of course, it has meat in it.
The garlic bread is conspicuously absent.
Part of me wants to go into the bedroom, wake him up, and scream at him.
I was so happy when he offered to help. I feel like this is a deliberate attempt to keep me from taking him up on his offers of help again. He didn't even bother to think about it or make an effort, and he's wasted a hour or so of MY time in the process, not to mention the extra cooking and shopping time I will have to put in to make up for it. So, that's wasted money, not only from buying the first round of food, but the second time around, as well.
And, did I mention, it was his day off yesterday? He did not do one damned thing. I came home from work and made dinner for him, when he sat on his butt playing games all day long.
Something's gotta give. What would you do in this situation??
Monday, May 14, 2007
You can't see me, but I am totally doing the Cabbage Patch.
I got my picture taken. I did not die. Hopped onto my good old friend Mr. Elliptical, and we hobnobbed for about 35 minutes. ROCKED out to my new gigabeat Gym Playlist.
On the way out, I grabbed an aerobics class schedule. They've remodeled, and there are a bunch of new classes, including a brand new Zumba class.
It's only offered at 5:30 AM on Tuesdays. And before you laugh, I am SO THERE tomorrow.
Holy crap, I am using a lot of caps. Maybe it's because of the endorphins. Or...well, the apocalypse may be upon us.
(You'll know it's here when I add a stick figure floating Jesus to the back window of my car.)
I feel good. So good, in fact, that I went to WalMart (bear with me) and floated through it buying sports bras and water bottles and yoga pants. Oh, and some contact lens solution.
And (here is the important part) I WAS STILL IN A GOOD MOOD when I left. That totally never happens.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
I freaking hate those things. HATE them. And her post jogged my memory.
Secret Squirrel: What the hell is that on the back of the car?
JSQ: Someone has about 15 kids??!
We stare in disbelief.
Secret Squirrel: There's a figure floating in the middle.
JSQ: Oooookay people!
Secret Squirrel: Maybe it's Jesus!
We ponder this.
JSQ: It could be Jesus. I don't see a halo, though.
JSQ: Maybe they're a bigamist!
Secret Squirrel: I think it's Jesus. Seriously, it's floating in the middle of the back window above everyone's head. Wearing a robe.
JSQ: Are we really having this conversation?
JSQ: If you speed up, I can totally read the lettering.
JSQ: It's not Jesus. It says "Grandma".
Secret Squirrel: I don't believe this.
JSQ: Grandma is wearing a caftan.
Secret Squirrel: Why is Grandma floating in the air?
JSQ: There's not much room for her on the ground...that gang of stick figures takes up the whole bottom of the window.
JSQ: Maybe she's a hip grandma...she's crowd surfing.
Secret Squirrel: Hmmmm....or, Grandma could be dead.
JSQ: Dude, I hope not, because I think Grandma is driving that car.
Anyway- Happy Mother's Day!
After the exorcist-style puking extravaganza of a week or so ago, the dust cleared, and I had lost 15 lbs. It's taken awhile for the scale to equalize, but I am now at a solid 10 lb. loss, which evidently shows. My MIL and my own mom and dad commented on it. Of course, Dad also noticed that I was wearing black nailpolish. (I only got a raised eyebrow. Maybe he finally accepts that I know what I'm doing?)
My sister also demanded to know what the hell I was doing to my skin. After fighting with the largest organ of my body for approximately 15 years or so, my skin has finally aquiesced. I have found the magical cocktail of prescription meds and cleansers that it seems to be happy with.
Now I just need to take it to the next level. I have been flirting with exercise, but we're not even what I would call a booty-call basis with each other. And my eating has been nothing if not sporadically well-behaved. I start out angelic, make it through lunch...and it's all downhill from there. There have been lots of nights out with the girls, and inevitably, we end up in a booze-soaked haze- either at Denny's or chowing down on greasy bar appetizers. There's not enough Fiber-One in the world to undo that damage. So, it's back to the full-blown Beach starting tomorrow.
Mom announced today that she has kept me on her gym membership. I thought that she was going to remove me in March. So....back I go! I do have to take a picture for my updated ID. (Bleah! Bleah!)
I am scheduling my gym visits in my planner, just like my appointments for doctor visits and work. I know that as long as I can't commit to exercise, the weight is just not going to come off. (How many times have I said this? Please don't remind me!)
I need to be realistic about the fact that, as much as I HATE having my picture taken, the camera will not actually turn me into dust.
I am probably going to go to the doctor and start tinkering with baby-type-stuff this week, so it will be good to go on the offensive before I become a teary, pimply, bloated freak of nature. (note to self- get gym pic taken before then.)
I know evryone isn't comfy with all that info...please know that I don't expect you to comment, or to know the right thing to say (there really isn't one.) All I ask is, please think happy thoughts for me!
Saturday, May 12, 2007
H/R takes care of its own. They're not covering your ass, they're covering the company's ass. End of story.
At my last job, The Company Which Shall Not Be Named, I had a friend in the H/R department. She was a cool chick, nice, fun to hang out with. And MAN, could she dish up the hot goss. She knew who the married guys were cheating on their wives with. She knew that the girl in her own department who got fired? Got fired because she was skimming money out of the vending machines that was supposed to go to the "Employee Fun Fund". Oh, and for changing her status within the computer system, showing that she had paid for her portion of the health insurance. Which, in fact, she hadn't.
When our department went through a leadership change, things basically fell apart. The same source informed me that out new department head had worked for the company for over a decade, and she had previously been in charge of other departments. Both times, everything went to hell. Our department was the third try. Why, I don't know, but we all saw the writing on the wall. The new boss was a finger pointer and a blamer if things went wrong...but if we got accolades, they were all because of her.
First, the middle managers went to H/R. Then the graphic artists. Six months later, those middle managers and artists were gone, but the problem was still there, cheery, obtuse, and wearing really unflattering miniskirts. The men in our department were all favored over the women. She'd invite the guys into her office, shut the door, and joke and laugh with them. The women who were shut out would just sort of look at each other and shrug. Let's hear it for reverse sexism!
A few more months came by. My phone started ringing off the hook. I was getting requests from people I shouldn't even have been talking to...regional VP's, and their salespeople, who all wanted to know why they could never get my boss on the phone.
Things started heating up in the department. Mistakes were made on ad copy, and of course, the "minions" in my department were blamed- not the manager of the department, who had signed off on the proofs.
I went, not to H/R, but to my former boss, who was now working directly with the president of the company. He basically told me, bluntly, to get used to it, or get out.
I settled in for the long haul. I called H/R. Twice. And I never even got a call back.
Finally, someone upstairs noticed that our department had shrunk by 50 %. And they informed us that as soon as a suitable replacement was found, our fearless leader would be reassigned to her former duties. Which is a fancy way of saying "demoted."
Three months went by. Let me just say that having a boss who is irresponsible is bad enough. Having a boss who knows she's been demoted, and what else can they do to her? Oy vey.
At the six month mark, I finally bailed. My contacts inside the company tell me it took a year to replace her, and it's even worse now.
The company before that?
I worked there for two years without a blip. One morning, I was late to work. I had overslept! I made it in, and managed to pull it together and get things back in line before the start of the newscast.
My boss called me in, and I expected to be in trouble. And I acknowledge that I deserved to be written up.
I was suspended without pay for two weeks.
In contrast, a guy in the same situation? Was chronically late. I had never heard that he was ever penalized in any way for it, and in fact, he often wouldn't even make it in until after the news show had been airing for 30 minutes!
Talking to more women around the station, I came to realize that my boss (who once again, had been with the company for years) was notorious for penalizing women. Women also got slotted into more of the lower-paying jobs (like graphics) where men were encouraged to pursue camera work and jobs in the newsroom.
The worst part was, the bias was tacitly recognized among the higher-ups, but nobody ever did anything about it.
I thought about it. I had also been denied two week's vacation (for which I had the time on the books) to take my impending honeymoon. I had repeatedly asked for a full-time position, while working 50 hours a week, and was told that they could only guarantee me 39.5 hours, which didn't qualify me for full-time.
Yeah. I took my 2 weeks off, and found another job. I gave my notice the day I was supposed to be back at work.
When I went into H/R, the director hugged me and said, "I'm so sorry about this."
To this day, I wonder what exactly she meant by that.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Still friendly. Still cute.
Not married. No kids.
How on earth am I going to hook him up with one of my single friends? Seriously, he's a cute, straight, smart, single, tall, funny, and responsible single guy.
In the words of Margaret Cho, he may possibly be a unicorn. Or a figment of my imagination. I should go look him up on snopes.com to see if he's an urban legend.
There must be something wrong with him. He is always wearing a baseball cap, so baldness isn't out of the question, but that's hardly a blip on the radar.
Maybe he eats puppies? Could he be a Scientologist?
I'm so confused.
I don't think he has a girlfriend. I base this on the fact that he has chocolate leftover from V-day "just lying around."
Well, and I asked him what he was doing last weekend and he said, "Oh....probably mowing the lawn."
Seriously....a man who is going to mow the lawn on his day off. That's a bankable commodity! (Well, around my house it is. )
I must ensnare him for someone deserving. Hmmmmm.......
Well, when I say there hasn't been a lot....there's a lot of stuff that is just sort of....you know, neither here nor there. There's a whole lot of "waiting and seeing" going on.
Truthfully, I am still not sure what to write about.
Oh, except that I am becoming the militant fat chick.
I have been going out a lot more with the girls, and none of us is precisely what you'd call thin. And I am really sick to death of the prevailing attitude among certain people that if you weigh more than a buck twenty-five, you shouldn't be allowed to show your face out on the streets of our fair (HA!) city. There have been a few incidents in the last few weeks, and I guess this one was just the proverbial back-breaking straw.
We were all hanging out, I was sitting on a barstool and my friend was swaying to the music they were playing in the bar. For the record, there was a lot of alcohol floating through our respective veins, but we were just talking and laughing with each other.
There was a mixed group of girls and guys in their early 20's seated in a booth a few feet away. And so I guess when one of the guys said, "Hey baby, shake it, don't break it!" and he and his buddy went into peals of derisive laughter, they didn't expect us to hear them.
I heard, and I was fueled on several shots of Bushmills whiskey. I hopped off my barstool, walked deliberately towards the booth, and flipped them off in an elaborate fashion, then walked back to the stool and re-parked.
I kept an eye on the booth for the rest of our (short) duration there. The three young women looked absolutely mortified. All conversation at their table ceased for the next 30 minutes.
The ironic thing is that the guy who made the comment was trying to talk to a girl who was beautiful, but not skinny either. After the incident, she wouldn't even make eye contact with him.
Was I wrong to even acknowledge it? I don't know. It certainly wasn't the most mature reaction. But I am sick to death of overlooking things. Plus, I am beginning to think that if jerks like this were called out on their behavior more often, they would learn how to behave themselves in public.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
I suppose I should report the good news- I got a raise at work. And The Man has passed the AFOQT (I think that's it) so he is now qualified to apply for officer's positions. I am really really really proud of him.
This has been a random week, work-wise. Specifically, there have been Weird Moments With Men.
On Tuesday, I went out to a relatively new school. I was in a classroom with the teacher (whose room it was), and I somehow managed to accidentally set off the fire alarm with either my fog machine or my laser pointer.
I was incredibly freaked out and embarrassed, and somehow the nice (male, my age) teacher and I ended up talking after the fire drill, while I was cleaning up. It started out with him trying to make me feel better, and ended up branching out into music, the computer age, growing up in Fresno, my intentions to become a teacher. Until I looked at the clock, and realized that 45 minutes had evaporated.
I packed up my stuff, and he locked up and we walked out to the parking lot together.
"Nice talking to you! See you on Friday!"
I climbed into the car and waved as I pulled out of the parking lot. I was so pleasantly surprised! Usually, men are a little reticient with me, and I am pretty shy, so I was proud of myself for making conversation and feeling so comfortable about it.
I was still smiling about it in the car, until I looked down and realized that I had taken off my wedding ring while gardening earlier, and I had forgotten to put it back on. And of course, I am so oblivious, I never noticed or asked if he was married or not.
I feel like a total idiot for even going there in my head.
I guess we'll see what happens tomorrow! (For the record, all jewelry will be present and accounted for.)
The other weirdness just happened today. Another male teacher, another school. We've had a few nice conversations, but nothing in-depth.
Teacher: I never asked- I can see you're married, but do you have kids?
Me: No, no kids yet.
Teacher: You seem like you'd be a great mom. Are you planning on starting a family?
Me: When the time is right, yes.
Teacher: Do you mind if I ask how old you are?
Me: I'm thirty-two.
Teacher: My wife was around that age when we started our family. It's good to wait and make sure you're ready- kids change everything, you know!
I really don't know what to say. There are enough people in the world who struggle with infertility that I (fortunately)don't get this as much as I used to.
Logically, I know that people who do ths aren't "out to get me." Of course I do! But I am woried that someone is going to catch me on a bad day at some point, and I am going to smite them with the truth.
I don't, because I don't want them to be embarrassed, or to feel bad.
I'm the one who feels bad instead.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
"Sweetie, I don't feel good."
"I feel like I'm going to throw up."
I went to work for an hour, came home. Let the Olympic-scale vomiting begin!
Since he is usually like the boy who cried wolf with any kind of illness, it took me until he was almost collapsing in the kitchen to realize that this was serious business. Plus I could hear him all the way in the back of the house. Florence Nightengale (and guilt) finally kicked in. I offered him water, and a popsicle. They stayed down for approximately two seconds. And when they came up, there was blood involved.
I grabbed my knitting, a book, an industrial stength garbage bag, and some moist towelettes, loaded The Man into his truck, and headed for the Urgent Care.
The military gives them all flu shots, so we knew it wasn't that. Evidently, the issue was viral gastroenteritis. Which is horrible, and looks just like the stomach flu.
We went home with our sheets for the BRAT diet, and I went out again to grab prescriptions, Pepto Bismol, Immodium, Lysol, popsicles, and a cute headband that was on sale at Walgreens.
The Man had 6 days off of work, and I knew he felt like ass, because he didn't even glance in the direction of the computer.
At one point, he said weakly, "Did the nurses tell you how contagious this is? We're supposed to sleep seperately, and use different bathrooms."
Uh huh. No, the nurses didn't say anything to me, mainly because...well, why bother? They knew I was already a goner.
Thursday night, I couldn't get warm. Nothing sounded appetizing. All I wanted to do was sleep.
I forced myself to eat some noodle soup, which was a mistake. I ended up just making it to the kitchen sink, and had the presence of mind to aim for the side with the garbage disposal.
On the up side, (yes, with me, there is always an upside) I am getting things done around the house, I feel great between bouts of whatever this is, and I have lost about 5 pounds.
It may be because of the barfing, or it could also be because my period, which was two and a half weeks late, finally decided to show up.
Yeah. Once again, it's been a week. But there is some good stuff to report tomorrow!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Next week is going to be nuts too. But let's get to it!
The scale was a little crazy with me this week. However, the extra pounds I put on over the Easter Weekend are gone, so I guess I broke even. Yeah! I have been pretty bad with eating (major alcohol binging last night), but I guess I have been more active to compensate.
I have gotten better re: exercise. I did three Turbo-Jam workouts this week, and I also did yard and housework as exercise. I am also going to count standing up for 4 hours and trying to keep from being crushed at a Social Distortion show on Friday night. Whoo!
Non-scale victories- my jeans are comfy again. The muffin-top effect is dwindling. I can now fasten my favorite brocade jacket down the front. The expensive black suede boots I bought a few months ago are still too tight in the calves for me to wear, but I can get them zipped up higher, and I anticipate that I will be wearing them next fall!
Weird circumstances: My husband has been acting ridiculous this week.
Evidently, it's weight loss related. Looking back, I remember when I reached a certain weight when we were dating...he got really insecure with the fact that I was suddenly getting a lot more attention from guys. Coupled with the fact that I was suddenly spending less time at home, and wearing prettier undergarments (because I can fit into them now!) ....well, he had a major-scale freak out.
We talked about what my goals were. He was honest that he thought I looked better and was happier at a lower weight, but also stressed that he loves me no matter what, which I know, but is always fantastic to hear. I explained that I really only wanted to get down to 180 at the lowest, and that he had nothing to worry about. I think what I actually said was "well...all the worrying is sweet...albeit in kind of a twisted way." And he laughed, so I know we're good.
OK, I am gunning for at least a 2lb loss this week. Hopefully, I will get it!
It's something I haven't wanted to talk about, because let's face it, it's boring, and it makes me feel like a whiner.
The computer game playing still continues at a steady clip- he has found another game, Eve Millennium, which he assured me wouldn't be taking up as much time as WOW.
I've gotten desensitized to it over time, but then I realized that The Man is waking up, playing the game, going to work, getting home, hopping back onto the computer, coming out at intervals to forage and pee, and then comes to bed around 2-3 AM.
If you're wondering where I fit into this equation...well, I don't.
This last week, I woke up and realized that there were some serious issues that needed to be addressed. I have been spending money like it's going out of style, which isn't good. I have been slacking on cleaning the house. I have been filling my free time with books, television, and nights out with the girls. Secret Squirrel and BowGirl have been on speed dial.
There have been squabbles. Squabbles about stupid, stupid things. Like why I am wearing black lacy underwear to go out. (Yes, I was wearing pants over them!)
When you have to justify your underwear, it's a sign that something else is wrong.
The last time my life was like this was when The Man was posted overseas for six months. I was depressed, utterly alone, and drinking pretty heavily. I stopped going to the gym, and gained a bunch of weight.
I am not doing this again.
It's been rocky lately, and that's hard to talk about. I've gotten a couple of digs about how much less I am earning at the job I love than at the job I hated. The job that he talked me into leaving.
Me: Hey! I got you a t-shirt from the concert that I thought you'd like!
TM: Okay. How much of MY money did you spend on it?
Me: In case you haven't noticed, I do actually work. I do actually make money.
TM: But I'm the primary breadwinner. Remember, I just did the taxes. I know how much more I make than you do now.
There are no words. Well, actually, there are words, but none of them are particularly nice. I am considering sending him a bill for my cooking, cleaning, errand service, laundry, creative input, gardening, accounting, and sexual services.
We'll see who makes more money THEN!!! I hear hookers who have all their teeth are pretty expensive.
There's also been a lot of the silent treatment. I stayed out until 2AM last night, out with the girls. In my defense, I thought he was out with the guys after work too, but I came home to find a sullen, irritable guy who ended up sleeping on the couch.
He was still mad this morning, and when I asked him what was wrong, he told me that I would have to wait until he gets home tonight (at midnight) to find out what the problem is. Presumably so I would be upset all day, waiting for the axe to fall.
My educated guess is that he is mad that I have been home less...but there's not much argument he can make, considering that when I am here, he ignores me in favor of the computer. And judging by "Pantygate", he's realizing that I am an attractive woman who can get attention from others if my husband is not so inclined...and that is making him nervous. As he should be.
Is it wrong that I want to go out with the girls again tonight, so I don't have to be home when he gets here? I am really sick of this passive aggressive BS!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I am a ho for the CD's.
I still love them, and I keep them even when I have burned the songs to MP3.
Since I was once a DJ, and The Man had an odd obsession with female pop singers (although he thankfully seems to have abandoned Mariah Carey) we have TONS of CD's. And I always want more.
Which was why it was such a dangerous thing when I realized that Fresno now has a Rasputin Music. It's taken over the old Tower Records spot.
The Man and I went out for dinner (Thai Foooooooooood!) and we saw it on the way home and decided to take a peek.
Yeah. We were lucky that we didn't have a credit card with us. The Man had to drag me out, because I easily could have spent eight times as much, and spent a few days there digging through their used stock. They had new stuff from about 8-13 bucks, used CD's for 1.99 to 3.99 a pop. I am a ho to the CD's, and I LOVES a bargain, so I was hooked.
The Man got Pat Benatar, ZZ Top, Loverboy, and Warren Zevon CD's. Yeah, I know.
Here's what I got:
Life Less Lived: The Gothic Box
Aaaaah...this takes me back to Goth Night in the old college days.
Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood Soundtrack
Cool Cajun music and a nice mix of other stuff.
The Groovy Sixties Set (Vol. 2) (This was actually something both of us would enjoy.)
The Good songs. The Man initially didn't want me to get it, and now he loves it in a "you'll have to pry this from my cold, dead fingers" kind of way.
I love Weezer. Who doesn't? Plus, having the earlier CD's gives you street cred. If I cared about street cred. I have to admit, this is one of the few bands that I would buy the entire discography, no questions asked. They're that good.
Ain't I'm A Dog! 25 Rockabilly Rave-ups
(Check out the badonkadonk on that girl! Holy Crap!)
I lurves me some rockabilly.
Violent Femmes- Why Do Birds Sing?
This one takes me right back to high school. American Music is my fave song on the CD, but the whole thing is pretty good.
And yes, I had VF lyrics etched into my binder. I am guessing this is the reason that the football player who sat next to me asked if I was satanic. (ooookay, dude. )
Yeah, I know I went a little nuts. The sick thing is, all those CD's were under a hundred bucks. (OK, barely. But still under.) Yeah for cheapo cool stuff!
***All pictures used are from Amazon.com
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I was trying to explain the difference between venomous and poisonous to the kids.
(For the record, if it bites YOU and you get sick, it's venemous. If you bite IT and you get sick, it's poisonous. I also tell them that you can eat rattlesnakes- therefore they are venemous, but not poisonous. Predictably, they all freak out, which is always entertaining.
Then they start asking questions about the most poisonous snakes, and where they live. I explain that most poisonous snakes live in Australia, but one of the most deadly animals is the Black Mamba. That's when things began to get dangerously theoretical.
"Like, if you put a Black Mamba in a box with a Black Widow Spider, and they had a fight, which one would win?"
While I am trying to come up with an answer to this one, taking into account relative sizes and the likelihood of this happening, the kid's neighbor goes,
"What if you put in a brown recluse AND a black widow? Would they join forces against the Black Mamba? What about a rattlesnake?"
I swear to God, this is going to keep me awake at night.
OK, to be fair, the Bunny is not actually responsible for the last two.
This week has been going well...I am doing my Turbo Jam DVD's, which I just got. There is a ton of crazy stuff going on, most of which I cannot share, so...yeah. This is me being cryptic.
I start the new class for my "headhunter" today. Teaching little kids about reptiles...woot! Hopefully, it will be fun. It's a big class though, so I am a little worried- primarily that there will be 19 boys with testosterone poisoning to deal with!
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
My body is messing with me. I'm not going to go into it, but it appears to have taken the whole "April Fools" thing literally, at the expense of my sanity and also, some serious dough.
My insurance, WHICH WE PAY EXTRA FOR, because it is supposed to be better than the "baseline model?" Sucks.
Two of my tutoring clients keeps cancelling or trying to change times on me at the last minute, and it is messing up my schedule.
Our bank has hung onto the "No Paypal!" directive of three months ago, and so now somethings that I ordered and I NEED are tied up until I sort it out.
I'm just tired.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
What a week. Lots of driving, lots of work. My energy has been noticeably up this week, and I have needed it! I have been pretty good re: eating, but exercise hasn't been happening, and I have been a flake about the pedometer. Which is too bad, because I know I have logged some serious miles this last week, going from school to school.
The Man checked my stitches today and says they look fully healed, so I am going gung ho for exercise again on Monday. I ordered new exercise DVD's, so I have absolutely NO EXCUSE- between the DVD's for Bellydance, Zumba, Fit to Strip, most of the Crunch Gum series- yeah, those are the ones I already have- I have ZERO excuses.
Now the good news! After last week's stall, I lost three lbs. this week. Yes! So I am nine pounds to the good so far. Hopefully I can make it a total of 10 for next week. 10 lbs lost the first month would be fantastic.
Drinking my water is getting easier (probably because it is really warming up outside). I also went to the 99cent store today, and bought sugar-free candy, tons of produce, brown rice, whole wheat crackers, sea salt, lentil soup (SBD friendly), scrunchies to hold up my hair when I exercise...you name it. I am IN the zone. Or something. I also bought two straw cloches to protect my face and hair from the sun. Ever since my visit to the dermatologist, I have been applying sunscreen religiously- 55 spf on my face, and 30 everywhere else.
As far as non-scale victories, I maintained for this week, although there is one new development...No PMS this month! The girls weren't sore at all, which never happens. I also tend to break out on my face and back, and The Man noticed when he checked my stitches that it is all clear. I am thinking it might have something to do with all the water I have been drinking, and the fact that I am not eating crappy food anymore? Maybe. Bonus!
2. Woke up early, collected my lab slip, drove all the way out to Clovis Community Hospital to get bloodwork done, because my doctor told me to. When I got there, they informed me that they don't take HMO insurance. April Fool!
3. On the way back home, stopped at the Vons with the "fuel discount" to get gas. Idly watching the number climb on the dollar-meter, I suddenly realized that gas has shot up to 3.19 a gallon. And that's for the cheap stuff. How am I unaware of this?!!!
(Oh right, they don't address climbing gas prices on "Pink Is The New Blog".)
4. This isn't really MY stupid thing, but: when I called 411, the recorded voice says,"Welcome to 411! Happy April Fools Day!"
Is that weird, or is it just me? During the whole call, I kept expecting them to patch me through to a hardcore phone sex line, just for kicks.
Friday, March 30, 2007
We got flowers, and radishes, and broccolini, and green beans, and asparagus, and fresh bread, and honeycomb. Then we stopped on the way home to get steaks and goat cheese.
If you've never had fresh wholegrain bread with goat cheese and honeycomb? You are missing out.
The best part? The Man cooked the steaks and the asparagus on the grill. I handled the salad and the couscous and the aforementioned bread. And we ate it out in the courtyard, which should be getting completed sometime in the next couple of weeks. We finally selected a fountain, and we need to get more sand, pavers, and trellis. but it's looking pretty good so far.
Work has been nuts, but satisfying. I did meet with my headhunter and he is slightly manic, but I get to come up with my own lesson plans. I start teaching a unit about reptiles in a couple of weeks. I only am going to teach one class, because I want to see how things go.
The big news: I called the doctor and made the appointment. Bloodwork on Sunday. Potential crazy-making pills will be issued on Monday. So if I start to sound insane in the next few weeks, you can blame it on the hormones. This weekend, it's go time to get the house in shape. Because I can't be psycho in a messy house...it will just make me more psycho. Does that make sense?
If you have cats...you will thank me for this for the rest of your life. Get a ScoopFree litterbox. Then instead of buying the refill packs, find a "forever" insert on ebay. Your nose, and your cats, will thank you. It's seriously the best $119 I have ever spent.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
It's not that I am an avid player- far from it. But I always bring my A game, and I tend to win a lot. The problem is that everyone wants to play me and BEAT me, so I get challenged a lot, and then when I win, they get sort of petulant and onery and I get sort of sick of Scrabble.
It's not all about spelling, it's about vocab and craftiness and playing for the max amount of points on any given word. I tend to be pretty good at all of those.
What has happened in my immediate household is that The Man is determined to win a game of Scrabble with me. Just one. (It hasn't happened yet.)
We headed up to Carmel this last weekend, just the two of us, which was sublime. Lots of "top down, music up" time in the convertible. He did most of the packing.
There's no TV or online access at my parent's place. I don't know why I was surprised when The Man busted out the Scrabble board. And a dictionary. I groaned.
"Come on Jenna...play with me! I just want to win ONE game. Come on...."
"You mean, if I lose a game, the madness will end?"
"Yes....but you can't THROW the game!" He said this quickly, because he can evidently read my mind.
We played twice. Both games lasted over an hour, and since he guilted me into the second one, I was a little merciless. I beat him by about 200 points. Although, I only commented on one misspelled word, long after he'd laid it down.
It's been several days, and he is still talking about it.
"WHY didn't you tell me?!!!!"
That's right. Scrabble Drama. Our lives are incredibly exciting!
Another feature of trips to Carmel is our new favorite restaurant, Giovanni's Bistro.
We went on our first night there. The food is reliably amazing, although we seem to have traumatized the staff. The last time we were in there, there was a couple seated behind us who were making out the entire time. Evidently, that is acceptable on some level. However...
Waitress: (laughing) Every time I come over here, you guys are holding hands. Knock it off! Seriously, let go of each other so you can eat dessert.
Yes. It's official- we are puke-inducing!
In other news, we are going to try out a new "date night" idea. We're going to go to the Farmer's Market together, and then bring it home to cook dinner together.
We'll see. I predict carnage, but who know? It could be fun.
So I hopped into a Walgreens and checked out their sugar-free chocolate selection.
I ate two sugar-free Reeses. Let the fun begin!
The abdominal cramping started on the way home from tutoring. It's been 4 hours since then, and I estimate I have made at least 37 trips to the bathroom.
Can sugar-free chocolate actually liquify your internal organs? Because that's the only possible explanation I can come up with.
How was your evening?
Sunday, March 25, 2007
No weight loss- I maintained. Which is a good thing. I lost so much last week, I know my body just took this week to equalize. (Which is a normal pattern for me.) I am sure another factor are the parsnip "chips" I got from Trader Joe's. I ate a bunch of them last night, and it's obvious that I can't get them again. While they are legal on South Beach, they are also laden with fat, calories and salt. I am retaining a ton of water, my wedding ring, which was getting comfortably loose, was tight this morning. I suspect those chips were the culprit.
I wasn't supposed to exercise this week, because they were worried that I would rip my stitches. (Nothing like a sanctioned excuse from the dermatologist!) I did keep track of my steps with the pedometer, but that's it.
So...no exercise, and I also had a MAJOR cheat day when I was in Carmel. I had a plan of attack going in, so I'm not going to sweat it too much. The Man and I went out to our favorite restaurant, and I ordered the gnocchi, which is my favorite. This time around, it was more "eh". I suspect that like with the alcohol, my tastes are changing. We also ordered dessert (which was still delicious), and I had three bites and let him finish the rest.
The rest of the time, I was surprisingly well-behaved. We bought snacks to keep at the house- he got Nutter Butter cookies, Haagen Dasz ice cream, and peanuts. I got green grapes, sugar-free Fudgesicles, and the peanuts were OK to share (as long as I counted and avoided mindless snacking.)
There was also a ton of walking. We walked to the beach from the house, along the beach, around town, to lunch, back to the house, out to dinner, and back to the house. My calves have been sore for the last two days! Most of the walk back is uphill, which is challenging for me, even more challenging after the post-dinner food coma. Which is another powerful incentive for me not to eat too much.
I guess it's all about finding a balance.
I am doing an online challenge on a weight loss forum, and it is really helping to keep me on the rails. I get points for eating right, for taking my vitamin and drinking my water, for exercise, and for pedometer steps. Who knew I would be so motivated by a "virtual tiara?"
My scale victory for this week is maintaining my previous loss. With all the restaurants, PMS, plus a baby shower, I feel like that's pretty good for this week.
My non-scale victories are more pronounced this week. My legs are becoming noticeably slimmer and firmer- I have "cuts" in the sides of my poor abused calves. My tummy is shrinking- I can see a difference in the mirror. I am feeling a little more confident about myself, and it's showing in the fact that I am getting compliments. The Man, who is always complimentary, is even more so than usual.
I started at a new school this week, and I did my usual intro and asked if the class (second graders) had questions or had anything to say before we started. A little girl in the front raised her hand, and said, "You're so beautiful Teacher! I like your earrings!"
It completely threw me. I mean, it was wonderful to hear, but odd when you're expecting a question about constellations or if the movie "Zathura" could really happen.
I automatically spluttered, "Well...thank you!" and went on my merry way.
On the drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I haven't felt pretty in such a long time. The Man always tells me I'm beautiful (yes, I know...he's a keeper!), but this week, I have been getting comments from total strangers.
Obviously, six pounds haven't made much of a physical change. But people are evidently picking up on something.
I didn't realize quite what it was until I started picking up the living room. I retrieved seven pairs of shoes from the living room alone. Instead of wearing the same tired pair of black flip flop sandals, I have been making more of an effort to look polished and put-together.
I am feeling better, and evidently my attitude about myself and others is more visible than I ever knew. What a thought! Kind of gratifying and scary at the same time.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
I left with stitches. Evidently, there were suspicious moles on my back. So they removed the "most abnormal" one, and it is heading to a lab, along with the skin tag.
So if you have any moles, or just haven't been checked for awhile...get thee to the dermatologist! Point 'em out!
Did I mention that I already have a dermatologist, but he will prescribe no meds for me because I am trying to get pg? Oh, and he has never even looked at my moles.
Of course, the crappy dermatologist is the one that my insurance will cover. Not the dermatologist who actually DID something. I should have known when I saw her spiffy salt-water fishtank that I was in over my head.
Fun fact: they did tell me that I have about 50% fewer moles than most of their other patients.
I got the call from the headhunter last night. He wants me to come up with an eight week series on reptiles. I have a meeting with him next week. I am excited!
In other news, crazy guy my sister was seeing is actually who he says she is. Evidently her digging and background checks almost got him fired. D'oh!
We still haven't decided whether or not he is gay. I will have to clue her in on the Grrrl Genius method: You ask who his favorite female character was on Gilligan's Island. If he says Mary Ann, he's straight. If he says Ginger...well, you're in trouble!
I am going to be gone this weekend...I haven't made a lot of contingency eating plans. We'll see how I do.
Monday, March 19, 2007
One of the girls in my office is teeny tiny. As I arrived this morning, I opened the door for another co-worker, a young guy who was carrying a huge box of cookies.
Teeny Girl: Who are the cookies for?
Other Co-worker: They're for you. You need to gain some weight, you're a twig!
OK, part of me was a little happy to hear this. And of course, hearing this directed at myself would be like the answer to a prayer. But then another part of me thought, "What if it was the opposite? What if someone thoughtfully bought me a bag of celery and a box of Dexatrim to snack on? Because I was looking extra-puffy lately?
Hmmm. Maybe I'm growing?
A Potentially Disturbing Story:
My sister called me last night, to share with me a harrowing tale about dating in San Francisco. A "really cute guy" asked for her number at the gym. They went out and had an awesome time. Only....
Evidently, after a couple of drinks, Mr. Wonderful has been quite forthcoming about his job as an FBI operative. Which is odd because FBI operatives, as I understand it, are pretty closemouthed about what they do. Also, two or three other jobs have come up, none of which are checkable through Google. In fact, one sounds ridiculously similar to the plotline of "Hitch".
Okay. So he's potentially a liar.
"Wait...there's something else."
The something else is that she's pretty sure that he is gay.
"OK...why do you say that?"
Well...he showed up to function wearing an open-necked shirt. With gold chains.
"I think he's clueless, possibly trapped in the 70's, but not gay."
"He was also wearing body glitter and called all my friends Darling. Also, I could swear that he was hugging me and checking out guys...like simultaneously."
OK, that's a fair point.
"Did he have a Pomeranian?"
Apparrently, no small fluffy dogs. But he keeps calling her, and he is laying it on pretty thick, because now she feels bad.
"Sis, if this happened to me? I would put posters up in his neighborhood with his head Photoshopped onto the body of Michael Flatley. Under the title "FBI! The Musical!" Starring...."
Sadly, I am not her. She still feels guilty.
"Do not let him make you feel guilty. I know you haven't told me everything, and I am already picturing him clubbing you like a baby seal and turning you into a lampshade with pink marabou trim."
I got a panicked e-mail today. She decided to check out his bona fides, and he is definitely nowhere in the FBI, not even as a file clerk.
I think I need to write a horror movie screenplay...stat.
Teaching today was interesting. I had to send a kid to the office for hitting another child. And then throwing a pencil at him. Who knew Science could be so violent?
When I was there, the nice ladies in the office asked me to fill out an "incident report." So I am now eternally a part of little Bobby's educational history.
I saw the kid's file...just the outside, but if the files a few inches thick, and you're only in the first grade...well. Evidently, kid has some issues. Which is great, since the only info his parents thought to share with me is approximately diddly squat. Oh no, wait, they checked the box that says "asthma". Thanks parents! I appreciate the 411 about your little delinquent. "History of violent behavior" would have been good to know. Although, I suppose there is no inhaler for that.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
It's impossible to separate my weight from the everyday and humdrum stuff that goes on with me, because...well, let's face it. I have been on a sporadic diet for the last 20 years. My weight affects a lot of what I do, how I respond to things, and how people respond to me. My perceptions, my choices, my day-to-day are all heavily (no pun intended) influenced by The Fat.
For example: My honeymoon. After a two-week clash of wills, I finally agreed (reluctantly!) to go to Hawaii. My husband wanted o go someplace tropical. My stated reason for not wanting the Hawaiian Honeymoon was that it was a cliche.
In actuality, it was because I would not be one of those girls wearing a white bikini with "Just Married" Bedazzled in rhinestones across the ass. I didn't want a bunch of pictures of size 14 me wearing a scowl and a sarong. This is probably the first time I have admitted it to myself or anyone else.
The Fat also is a big factor in why I didn't go to my high school 10 year reunion. Not because I thought people would judge me so much, but because I hated high school, where my weight and the nickname Double Bubble, en homage to the triple G boobs (yep) haunted me for four long, angry years. I seriously didn't want to relive all that ten years later.
As I get older- maybe it's the fact that my husband is pretty accepting, maybe it's the fact that I have fought with my weight for TWENTY years now, maybe it's because I just can't be bothered anymore- I am realizing that what other people think is not that important. Does it really matter what the waiter will think of me if I order dessert? When I order fast food for my husband and I, do I need to state that fact to the drive-through guy so he knows that all three cheeseburgers aren't for me?
Studies show that there's a good reason behind feeling this way. Plus sized women are definitely treated differently when they shop. An experiment was done where a large woman who came into a store with a diet beverage, and discussed losing weight with the sales clerk was treated in a much more positive manner than the same woman in the same store if she was holding an Orange Julius and no dieting was mentioned. Go figure!
One of the students that I tutor has this fantastic mom. She's a really attractive woman, maybe 5 years older than I am....really petite, thin as a rail, always well-dressed. And last week, she confessed that she hates to have her picture taken.
Actually what she said is, "I always look like a wrinkly, mis-shapen dwarf in pictures."
Nothing could be further from the truth in real life. I laughed and said that I had the opposite problem, I felt like I looked like a hippopotamus on film. We both ended up laughing about it.
Women are too damn hard on each other, and even harder than that on themselves. I wish I had something profound to say about it, but I can only sum it up with: That totally sucks.
So, the purpose of the weekend wrap-up is simply to talk about The Week in Weight Loss, how it's going, and what I am doing. I guess the significance is that I no longer want The Fat to run my life, but I am accepting that The Fat is always going to be a part of it, and it's OK to be open about that.
This week has been good. I did my four days of exercise, interval running/walking on the treadmill. I didn't panic about waking up late on Friday, I still exercised, but not as long. And that's OK.
I re-started South Beach Diet, because it's really easy for me to incorporate that into the way I like to eat. And lo and behold, it's working. I have lost almost 6 lbs. this week, which is amazing. I am getting back into that groove of planning ahead, of making sure there are going to be good food choices in the fridge when I open it.
So I saw a major scale victory this week with the loss, and I had several non-scale victories. The exercise, I feel really good about. I can already tell a difference in the way my clothes fit.
And I went out to dinner twice this week, and didn't even falter. I had a salad last night when my buddies had fried appetizers, and then for girls night out, I got a turkey burger with jack cheese and avocado, and I just didn't eat the bun and ordered cottage cheese instead of fries. Both nights, I had one drink and took about three sips. For some reason, alcohol isn't appealing to me lately, and I remember that this happened the last time I did SBD too. My tolerance has gone out the window too, half a martini in three hours, and I still could feel the buzz. I also remember that the one time in my life when I drank too much and threw up and blacked out and had the worst hangover ever? I had been on SBD. (Note to self: don't do that again!)
I know it's easy now, when I am gung-ho. It's down the line when I get sick of my usual stuff that I will hit some major bumps, so I guess I need to prepare for those in advance.