I have been lying to myself. I made all this Christmas candy for friends, and have eaten some of it. Like a half of plate of fudge.
I am looking back over the year and thinking what happened. This year I lost just over 30 pounds, which I am super proud of, but it screams not enough. But it's just me doing the screaming. I have gotten down to a size 18 pant and a size 16 dress and a size XL top. And I feel good about my body, the strength of it, it's clean lines and curves that are much less than the curves of yesteryear.
So today is a day to remember why I had surgery in the first place. Because I wanted to feel healthy. I want to be someone who is a role-model, a machine. Who takes on challenges and calls out for help when needed.
Help.
I could make a list of all that I am going to do, but instead I am choosing to do one thing differently. I am only going to eat meals at mealtimes. Plan out my day of eating. I am not longer needing baby step nutrition, I get enough protein, so it's time to re-fuel when I have to. All sugar things have to go.
I am throwing away the goodies. Sorry friends. I love you, but I love me more. Neither of us need this, and if it's in my house one more minute, it'll be a bloodbath.
Merry Christmas.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
A Tree
Last night, James and I got a tree.
A really real Christmas tree.
We moved things around in the living room, some of which still have to be adjusted, but a tree up and started decorating. And then sat down to watch Survivor.
About half-way through, he got up, turned off all the lights (except for the tree) and said "I love just having the tree lights on." Me too.
I started crying. I looked into his eyes and said this:
"Last year when you were contemplating bachelorhood forever with a dog, I was traveling on a plane far away. At some point we both decided that our lives would be okay without a partner, without someone to love and love us back. And now we are here, celebrating Christmas together. I couldn't be more happy with you. Thank you for saving me from myself."
I asked what he saw when he looked at me. And his response is too glorious and too beautiful for words. When he asked me the same thing, I said "Joy, happiness, a little boy who is so excited that he gets all this, patience and kindness" He asked if I saw love, and I said yes.
I do see love. Every time I look at him. He is a cuddle monster of the n-th degree, he is warm where I am cold, he is cool where I am hot. His hair always smells good and my favorite place to kiss him is on his forehead. I want to take care of him forever, and want him to take care of me.
We are good partners, we project well together. We kind of fixed the sinking couch, moved a huge dresser, re-orged one room and still had time for kissing, napping and loving. He was feeling a little sick, and I did my best to take care of him.
But taking care of each other is hard too. Both of us smoke-- I still quit every day. Both of us like the sweet stuff. Both of us would rather couch surf then walk around. Activity is key-- walking, getting to the gym, etc. I haven't been to the gym in a month. I also have gained 2 pounds. And I'm still in a plateau-- hovering-- which I hate.
No proclaimations other than to take care of myself. And my James.
Pictures on the tree later. I've got a new boss and have to get into work.
Much love. And thanks Ms.Shelly. I forgot how theraputic it is to write.
A really real Christmas tree.
We moved things around in the living room, some of which still have to be adjusted, but a tree up and started decorating. And then sat down to watch Survivor.
About half-way through, he got up, turned off all the lights (except for the tree) and said "I love just having the tree lights on." Me too.
I started crying. I looked into his eyes and said this:
"Last year when you were contemplating bachelorhood forever with a dog, I was traveling on a plane far away. At some point we both decided that our lives would be okay without a partner, without someone to love and love us back. And now we are here, celebrating Christmas together. I couldn't be more happy with you. Thank you for saving me from myself."
I asked what he saw when he looked at me. And his response is too glorious and too beautiful for words. When he asked me the same thing, I said "Joy, happiness, a little boy who is so excited that he gets all this, patience and kindness" He asked if I saw love, and I said yes.
I do see love. Every time I look at him. He is a cuddle monster of the n-th degree, he is warm where I am cold, he is cool where I am hot. His hair always smells good and my favorite place to kiss him is on his forehead. I want to take care of him forever, and want him to take care of me.
We are good partners, we project well together. We kind of fixed the sinking couch, moved a huge dresser, re-orged one room and still had time for kissing, napping and loving. He was feeling a little sick, and I did my best to take care of him.
But taking care of each other is hard too. Both of us smoke-- I still quit every day. Both of us like the sweet stuff. Both of us would rather couch surf then walk around. Activity is key-- walking, getting to the gym, etc. I haven't been to the gym in a month. I also have gained 2 pounds. And I'm still in a plateau-- hovering-- which I hate.
No proclaimations other than to take care of myself. And my James.
Pictures on the tree later. I've got a new boss and have to get into work.
Much love. And thanks Ms.Shelly. I forgot how theraputic it is to write.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Family and Love and a little bit of Rock
Family
I've been all sorts of busy. A couple weekends ago, the entire Pop side of the family came into town and we celebrated 60 years on the planet for him and Mom, along with saying goodbye to Grampa.
I've never been a huge fan of one of my uncles, he's just enough older than me to be annoying, and yet he's too young to be a parent figure. He had a different experience growing up than the rest of them and somehow I make it his fault for being that way. He just grew up as he knew how to grow up.
Anyhow, he proudly put on his tartan jacket and raised a glass. He started off by saying that in his years of journalism, only remember the positive stuff. Which was so not going to be the case. It shifted the room, as we all sat there with our glasses of scotch waiting to salute him. It shifted how his brothers looked at him, all of a sudden, he was an adult, and he was saying how this goes.
He went on to say that he hopes heaven is like a big picture window, people sitting around watching their friends and family do the things we do everyday. Grandchildren in plays and basketball games, spelling bees and soccer tournaments, getting married, having babies, etc. There wasn't a dry eye in the room.
We sent grampa on his way to heaven with a toast, a couple of tears and some great memories. And our hearts were a little less heavy than they had been before.
-------------------------------
Sometimes I get reminded that we can't choose who our family is. It's like a big test that the universe put together for us to remind us of all the things we can't stand in ourselves. I hope that it makes me patient and kind, because right now all it feels like is annoying.
-----------------------------------
Love
James and I no longer talk about when he's moving in. It's me who has to accept that he lives here on the weekends, and that he's not a guest. And that on the weekends we actually can do things apart from one another, like go to brunch or get a mani-pedi, or just do errands.
He is so incredibly uncomplicated that it baffles me. He loves me. He also loves to tease me, sometimes a little too much. I call him "The Needler" because every now and again he just does the most jackassery things. Ahh. But he's my jackass.
We went to a Halloween party at his brother's house. Had a great time. I smoked a couple cigarettes, which I haven't done since the beginning of the month, and I felt gross. I haven't been smoking because I realize it just isn't who I want to be. I want to be fit and healthy and full of energy. Not a smoker.
He left jammies at my house. I love him even more.
----------------------------------------
Rock
For James' birthday, my mom bought tickets for us to go see ROCK OF AGES. We really didn't know what to expect.
IT WAS FANTASTIC!!!
I grew up in sunny Southern California in the midst of the hair metal 80's and early 90's. I spent an enormous amount of time going up to Hollywood Blvd. and the Sunset Strip and walking up and down between the clubs, just trying to meet bands or guys in bands. Actually, I was just the sober driver-- I had two friends that were really into that, but I just went along because it was kinda cool. I realize now that I was so totally uncomfortable in that situation, not wanting to talk to anyone, not having fun-- that it made me into a more comfortable adult that can talk to anyone. Because I don't have whatever that thing was that prevented me from saying "Hey this isn't fun anymore."
I just realized something-- we were like, umm, jail bait-- hanging out at these clubs and rockers apartments. What the hell were these guys thinking....? What the hell were we thinking...?
Anyhow-- ROCK OF AGES!
Storyline is super simple, guy goes to Hollywood to make it as a rocker, girl goes to Hollywood to make it as an actress. They meet. Throw in a bunch of great rock ballads (less hair, more arena) and a couple of hard rocking songs, a Brett Michaels-esque character, some bad 80's stripper fashion, a mean developer and voila-- a show to be entirely entertained by. The best thing about it was the narrator. A little Jack Black, a little Timothy Olyphant, and a whole lot of fun and laughter.
James loved it. Laughted and smiled the whole way through it. I loved it. We are going back to see it with friends, it was that good. I wasn't even annoyed with Constantine, who plays the kid trying to make it as a rocker-- he is a fairly decent actor-- actually quite humble and slightly endearing. I can see that this may be his arena-- shows that rock that almost make fun of themselves.
Now my man is obsessed with re-creating the set list. It's actually quite adorable.
------------
And that's all for updates. Well, weight wise I am still hanging stong in the 260's. I have started weight training. And am making the right choices for the day. One of the things I notice is my impulses to eat are so overwhelming that my feet actually lead me places. My brain turns off just for that moment. Yesterday, I was walking to the subway and then I was walking to the cupcake shop. And I turned my feet around and walked to the subway.
If I just make the right choice every day to make smart choices, my "treats" will be once a week rather than once a day. My old boss made it a point that there was no dessert until Friday night, and she could have dessert on the weekends only. It might be a good place for me to start-- treats on the weekends only.
I guess I would have to define treats:
Anything sweet
cake
cookies
brownies
cupcake
ice cream
breakfast sweets (danish, hummentasha, sweet rolls, coffee cake, donut, etc)
Anything that I know I shouldn't have regularly
Fried food
appetizers (mozzerella sticks, chicken wings, poppers, fried cheese)
chips
crackers
soda
alcohol
snacks
If I gave myself an opportunity to have these once a week, I guess I wouldn't feel deprived. What I have been doing with the sweets is getting the popsicles or fruit bars and having those in my fridge for the week. I don't need that. I also don't need the sugar free stuff. A wise man said 'If you wouldn't normally eat sugar free/ fat free/ etc-- why eat it now? Don't substitute processed for whole food."
So on the weekend, I'll give myself permission to have a small bag of M&M's. Or a cookie/ danish/ cupcake. But I don't have to go overboard. Just enough to be satisfied and not deprived.
I figure I have about 70 pounds to lose off this frame. I know I can do this.
I've been all sorts of busy. A couple weekends ago, the entire Pop side of the family came into town and we celebrated 60 years on the planet for him and Mom, along with saying goodbye to Grampa.
I've never been a huge fan of one of my uncles, he's just enough older than me to be annoying, and yet he's too young to be a parent figure. He had a different experience growing up than the rest of them and somehow I make it his fault for being that way. He just grew up as he knew how to grow up.
Anyhow, he proudly put on his tartan jacket and raised a glass. He started off by saying that in his years of journalism, only remember the positive stuff. Which was so not going to be the case. It shifted the room, as we all sat there with our glasses of scotch waiting to salute him. It shifted how his brothers looked at him, all of a sudden, he was an adult, and he was saying how this goes.
He went on to say that he hopes heaven is like a big picture window, people sitting around watching their friends and family do the things we do everyday. Grandchildren in plays and basketball games, spelling bees and soccer tournaments, getting married, having babies, etc. There wasn't a dry eye in the room.
We sent grampa on his way to heaven with a toast, a couple of tears and some great memories. And our hearts were a little less heavy than they had been before.
-------------------------------
Sometimes I get reminded that we can't choose who our family is. It's like a big test that the universe put together for us to remind us of all the things we can't stand in ourselves. I hope that it makes me patient and kind, because right now all it feels like is annoying.
-----------------------------------
Love
James and I no longer talk about when he's moving in. It's me who has to accept that he lives here on the weekends, and that he's not a guest. And that on the weekends we actually can do things apart from one another, like go to brunch or get a mani-pedi, or just do errands.
He is so incredibly uncomplicated that it baffles me. He loves me. He also loves to tease me, sometimes a little too much. I call him "The Needler" because every now and again he just does the most jackassery things. Ahh. But he's my jackass.
We went to a Halloween party at his brother's house. Had a great time. I smoked a couple cigarettes, which I haven't done since the beginning of the month, and I felt gross. I haven't been smoking because I realize it just isn't who I want to be. I want to be fit and healthy and full of energy. Not a smoker.
He left jammies at my house. I love him even more.
----------------------------------------
Rock
For James' birthday, my mom bought tickets for us to go see ROCK OF AGES. We really didn't know what to expect.
IT WAS FANTASTIC!!!
I grew up in sunny Southern California in the midst of the hair metal 80's and early 90's. I spent an enormous amount of time going up to Hollywood Blvd. and the Sunset Strip and walking up and down between the clubs, just trying to meet bands or guys in bands. Actually, I was just the sober driver-- I had two friends that were really into that, but I just went along because it was kinda cool. I realize now that I was so totally uncomfortable in that situation, not wanting to talk to anyone, not having fun-- that it made me into a more comfortable adult that can talk to anyone. Because I don't have whatever that thing was that prevented me from saying "Hey this isn't fun anymore."
I just realized something-- we were like, umm, jail bait-- hanging out at these clubs and rockers apartments. What the hell were these guys thinking....? What the hell were we thinking...?
Anyhow-- ROCK OF AGES!
Storyline is super simple, guy goes to Hollywood to make it as a rocker, girl goes to Hollywood to make it as an actress. They meet. Throw in a bunch of great rock ballads (less hair, more arena) and a couple of hard rocking songs, a Brett Michaels-esque character, some bad 80's stripper fashion, a mean developer and voila-- a show to be entirely entertained by. The best thing about it was the narrator. A little Jack Black, a little Timothy Olyphant, and a whole lot of fun and laughter.
James loved it. Laughted and smiled the whole way through it. I loved it. We are going back to see it with friends, it was that good. I wasn't even annoyed with Constantine, who plays the kid trying to make it as a rocker-- he is a fairly decent actor-- actually quite humble and slightly endearing. I can see that this may be his arena-- shows that rock that almost make fun of themselves.
Now my man is obsessed with re-creating the set list. It's actually quite adorable.
------------
And that's all for updates. Well, weight wise I am still hanging stong in the 260's. I have started weight training. And am making the right choices for the day. One of the things I notice is my impulses to eat are so overwhelming that my feet actually lead me places. My brain turns off just for that moment. Yesterday, I was walking to the subway and then I was walking to the cupcake shop. And I turned my feet around and walked to the subway.
If I just make the right choice every day to make smart choices, my "treats" will be once a week rather than once a day. My old boss made it a point that there was no dessert until Friday night, and she could have dessert on the weekends only. It might be a good place for me to start-- treats on the weekends only.
I guess I would have to define treats:
Anything sweet
cake
cookies
brownies
cupcake
ice cream
breakfast sweets (danish, hummentasha, sweet rolls, coffee cake, donut, etc)
Anything that I know I shouldn't have regularly
Fried food
appetizers (mozzerella sticks, chicken wings, poppers, fried cheese)
chips
crackers
soda
alcohol
snacks
If I gave myself an opportunity to have these once a week, I guess I wouldn't feel deprived. What I have been doing with the sweets is getting the popsicles or fruit bars and having those in my fridge for the week. I don't need that. I also don't need the sugar free stuff. A wise man said 'If you wouldn't normally eat sugar free/ fat free/ etc-- why eat it now? Don't substitute processed for whole food."
So on the weekend, I'll give myself permission to have a small bag of M&M's. Or a cookie/ danish/ cupcake. But I don't have to go overboard. Just enough to be satisfied and not deprived.
I figure I have about 70 pounds to lose off this frame. I know I can do this.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
No more 5 day pouch test
I know my pouch works. It only holds about 1/2 to 3/4 cup of food. I know this.
What I was doing was eating, then resting, then eating again. Drinking water with meals. Sitting in front of the TV to eat. No longer.
Snacking is not a good idea, neither is vending machines at work. The everyday starbucks is no longer. Upped the protein, put away the scale. Just put it away. I'll weigh myself in a week. Maybe every Saturday will be weigh in day. Hmmm.
Going back to all liquid protein diet was hard. Sweaty hard. Just trying to make it through the day without snacking is hard. Moderation. Moderation. Worked out, and am feeling my waist getting smaller. Liking that. seeing my arms get saggy, not so much liking that.... but life happens.
Back to therapy. Back to working on Maddie. Back to holding the space for a 10 year old frustrated girl to come out. I know I am stuck at this weight because I have something to learn. Something about things being enough. Having enough. Being someone who is enough, smart enough, pretty enough, kind enough, gentle enough, who has enough. Just enough.
Creating the future is what's next for me. The universe keeps giving me signs. Someone opened a bank account in my name-- yup, stolen identity. That fucking sucks. My weight is the same within 3 pounds for the last five months. Yup, that fucking sucks. The sad part, I can't tell what I am more disappointed with.
Here's the deal, I have no future to live into (not in the I don't want to live way, but in the well... read what's next)-- I haven't created what's next. I'm in a place at work that's reactive, I am in a place in life waiting for someone else, I am in an apartment that's comfortable. I have a comfortable life, but nothing that I am striving for, nothing that I am working for. I haven't declared what I want. I have no goal.
Next post, goals. Creating what's next. I am anxiously awaiting very cool cousin to arrive. My house is not clean enough, and I still have work to do, but he's coming. With him, I'm creating what's next. I can feel it.
Much love to you all. Friends, stop being lurkers. Just send me emails at possibility614@yahoo.com and jump on board. It's a great place to puke up concerns to the universe and maybe get some answers, but really just get people to hear your concerns and listen.
What I was doing was eating, then resting, then eating again. Drinking water with meals. Sitting in front of the TV to eat. No longer.
Snacking is not a good idea, neither is vending machines at work. The everyday starbucks is no longer. Upped the protein, put away the scale. Just put it away. I'll weigh myself in a week. Maybe every Saturday will be weigh in day. Hmmm.
Going back to all liquid protein diet was hard. Sweaty hard. Just trying to make it through the day without snacking is hard. Moderation. Moderation. Worked out, and am feeling my waist getting smaller. Liking that. seeing my arms get saggy, not so much liking that.... but life happens.
Back to therapy. Back to working on Maddie. Back to holding the space for a 10 year old frustrated girl to come out. I know I am stuck at this weight because I have something to learn. Something about things being enough. Having enough. Being someone who is enough, smart enough, pretty enough, kind enough, gentle enough, who has enough. Just enough.
Creating the future is what's next for me. The universe keeps giving me signs. Someone opened a bank account in my name-- yup, stolen identity. That fucking sucks. My weight is the same within 3 pounds for the last five months. Yup, that fucking sucks. The sad part, I can't tell what I am more disappointed with.
Here's the deal, I have no future to live into (not in the I don't want to live way, but in the well... read what's next)-- I haven't created what's next. I'm in a place at work that's reactive, I am in a place in life waiting for someone else, I am in an apartment that's comfortable. I have a comfortable life, but nothing that I am striving for, nothing that I am working for. I haven't declared what I want. I have no goal.
Next post, goals. Creating what's next. I am anxiously awaiting very cool cousin to arrive. My house is not clean enough, and I still have work to do, but he's coming. With him, I'm creating what's next. I can feel it.
Much love to you all. Friends, stop being lurkers. Just send me emails at possibility614@yahoo.com and jump on board. It's a great place to puke up concerns to the universe and maybe get some answers, but really just get people to hear your concerns and listen.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Feeling good
I started the 5 day pouch test on Monday.
By Monday afternoon, I was sweating and miserable.
I just had a few bites of a dark chocolate bar.
Tuesday I was doing great.
I had two cups of salad at lunch.
Then 4 cookies.
Then a piece of Brazilian cheese bread, three croquettes, a half serving of stroganoff, 1/4 cup rice, a cappuccino and three bites of a coconut custard.
Then finished off the stroganoff after I got home last night.
Here's what I didn't do. I didn't say to my boss-- I don't want to have dinner with the group because I am keeping to a strict diet this week. I am jump-starting my weightloss process and I need to clear out my system. And go back to basics.
Instead I said-- I'll be there. Wouldn't miss it for the world.
So here's what's so for today.
Brought in lunch from the deli for the program. I have chicken soup instead.
Cocktails and dinner at 6pm. I will drink water and not eat dinner. Before I go out, I will have my chicken soup or a protein shake.
And I am not beating myself up. This is life. I make choices. I chose not to stick with the diet last night. So I just begin again. No big deal.
Come join. possibility614@yahoo.com to be in sassy girls wls salon. Stop being a lurker. Join.
By Monday afternoon, I was sweating and miserable.
I just had a few bites of a dark chocolate bar.
Tuesday I was doing great.
I had two cups of salad at lunch.
Then 4 cookies.
Then a piece of Brazilian cheese bread, three croquettes, a half serving of stroganoff, 1/4 cup rice, a cappuccino and three bites of a coconut custard.
Then finished off the stroganoff after I got home last night.
Here's what I didn't do. I didn't say to my boss-- I don't want to have dinner with the group because I am keeping to a strict diet this week. I am jump-starting my weightloss process and I need to clear out my system. And go back to basics.
Instead I said-- I'll be there. Wouldn't miss it for the world.
So here's what's so for today.
Brought in lunch from the deli for the program. I have chicken soup instead.
Cocktails and dinner at 6pm. I will drink water and not eat dinner. Before I go out, I will have my chicken soup or a protein shake.
And I am not beating myself up. This is life. I make choices. I chose not to stick with the diet last night. So I just begin again. No big deal.
Come join. possibility614@yahoo.com to be in sassy girls wls salon. Stop being a lurker. Join.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Monday morning
I'm tired.
This week is filled with a program that I would really rather have nothing to do with. It's exhausting trying to get all of this stuff together when really all I want to do is go back to bed.
Today it is fall. I woke up and it's cool and rainy and the leaves outside my window are changing. Maybe this weekend the boyfriend and I can head out somewhere to check out the leaves and whatnot. We spent this weekend doing stuff-- going to the mall (he got sneakers, I got work out clothes) and running small errands. It was kind of cool to just be together making stuff happen. Although I didn't go to the gym this weekend, I did walk for 30 mins at the mall and then did a little walking yesterday when we headed out for dinner.
I am starting to cut back on the carbs. I think it is directly tied into me quitting smoking-- I am not shoving everything into my mouth all day long. The rule for today is to drink all 64 oz of water. All of it. And chew slowly. And take all my vitamins. I do well in the first half of the day, but then forget my calcium in the second half.
And the yahoo group is up. I am still adding people if you'd like to come aboard. I don't care if you have had WLS at all-- it's just a place to vent, share tips, converse, get to know one another, and be a community-- a support. I have a slew of folks to add from the weekend, so keep sending me emails to possibility614@yahoo.com
Love. I'm in love for sure. I love my man-- I had a breakdown (I have no idea what size I am, too many options are open to me). And he just loves me through it. I wish everyone the same amount of happiness that I feel when I am in his arms.
This week is filled with a program that I would really rather have nothing to do with. It's exhausting trying to get all of this stuff together when really all I want to do is go back to bed.
Today it is fall. I woke up and it's cool and rainy and the leaves outside my window are changing. Maybe this weekend the boyfriend and I can head out somewhere to check out the leaves and whatnot. We spent this weekend doing stuff-- going to the mall (he got sneakers, I got work out clothes) and running small errands. It was kind of cool to just be together making stuff happen. Although I didn't go to the gym this weekend, I did walk for 30 mins at the mall and then did a little walking yesterday when we headed out for dinner.
I am starting to cut back on the carbs. I think it is directly tied into me quitting smoking-- I am not shoving everything into my mouth all day long. The rule for today is to drink all 64 oz of water. All of it. And chew slowly. And take all my vitamins. I do well in the first half of the day, but then forget my calcium in the second half.
And the yahoo group is up. I am still adding people if you'd like to come aboard. I don't care if you have had WLS at all-- it's just a place to vent, share tips, converse, get to know one another, and be a community-- a support. I have a slew of folks to add from the weekend, so keep sending me emails to possibility614@yahoo.com
Love. I'm in love for sure. I love my man-- I had a breakdown (I have no idea what size I am, too many options are open to me). And he just loves me through it. I wish everyone the same amount of happiness that I feel when I am in his arms.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Yahoo Group
It's up, it's running.
It's very very lonely.
Send me an email to possibility614@yahoo.com and I will add you. And then, you can come sit on my electronic couch and we can bitch at each other and support each other, and create something extraordinary by being a cyber community. Without being on a blog. Or, well, whatever.
C'mon in. Play with me.
It's very very lonely.
Send me an email to possibility614@yahoo.com and I will add you. And then, you can come sit on my electronic couch and we can bitch at each other and support each other, and create something extraordinary by being a cyber community. Without being on a blog. Or, well, whatever.
C'mon in. Play with me.
After Yoga Morning
After my Yoga morning, I had an evening workout. I can't stay at home and watch the Biggest Loser on my couch, I have to get up and do something while watching it. I walked/jogged for 33 minutes. And was sweaty and felt awesome.
I am still not losing weight. I am not going to be upset by it, instead, I am taking this time to put the things back into place that I have been missing. I feel like I am waking up again to possibilities for my life.
The things going back into place:
Cooking healthy: this means low fat and high flavor. Veggies and low fat protein, less cheese. Small portions.
30 minutes of movement every day: Tonight I walked 15 blocks and a couple avenues just to get some exercise in. I can't be a desk jockey.
Sleep: 8 hours a night. which means that the DVR will be my best friend, and I don't have to watch all the TV all at once.
Mail: I never go through my mail. And you know what, bills don't get paid when I do that. Every week I will set aside one hour to go through mail, file and shred. I will set aside another hour to pay bills every two weeks.
Laundry: Hang it up. Put clothes away. Soon there will be a boy living with you and you will need to keep it tidy and nice. And he will need space to put his things as well.
Clutter: Toss it. There is nothing to keep if you don't know where it should go. If you need to create a space for it, then fine, but beyond that, toss. Don't save a pile for later. Get it taken care of today.
I think that's it for now. I'm going to bed. And will work out in the afternoon tomorrow before I make the most amazing homemade sauce for my James and we watch Survivor, cuddled on the couch.
I am still not losing weight. I am not going to be upset by it, instead, I am taking this time to put the things back into place that I have been missing. I feel like I am waking up again to possibilities for my life.
The things going back into place:
Cooking healthy: this means low fat and high flavor. Veggies and low fat protein, less cheese. Small portions.
30 minutes of movement every day: Tonight I walked 15 blocks and a couple avenues just to get some exercise in. I can't be a desk jockey.
Sleep: 8 hours a night. which means that the DVR will be my best friend, and I don't have to watch all the TV all at once.
Mail: I never go through my mail. And you know what, bills don't get paid when I do that. Every week I will set aside one hour to go through mail, file and shred. I will set aside another hour to pay bills every two weeks.
Laundry: Hang it up. Put clothes away. Soon there will be a boy living with you and you will need to keep it tidy and nice. And he will need space to put his things as well.
Clutter: Toss it. There is nothing to keep if you don't know where it should go. If you need to create a space for it, then fine, but beyond that, toss. Don't save a pile for later. Get it taken care of today.
I think that's it for now. I'm going to bed. And will work out in the afternoon tomorrow before I make the most amazing homemade sauce for my James and we watch Survivor, cuddled on the couch.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Yoga Morning
I went to yoga at 6:30am. This morning. I must be insane.
And I felt great-- didn't work up a sweat, but I am taking care of myself. At least that's what the lady in the front of the room said.
I watched the sun rise out of the window, reflected onto the mirrors of the studio. And I prayed.
I prayed for me.
To be stronger in the moments I need strength.
To be vulnerable and ask for help.
To be given just a bit more than I think I can handle.
To lessen my psychic load when it weighs me down.
To put my shoulders back in place.
To forgive my enemies and make them friends.
To forgive my friends and make them family.
To forgive my family and make them loved again.
I prayed for others.
To have their loads lessened.
To have clarity.
To be stronger in the world.
To notice what the important things are. And they they are not things.
I prayed for you.
To thank you for supporting me.
For loving me
just as I am, and as I am not.
And as I wrote this, forgiveness happened. And all became glorious and vulnerable again.
Today, I am loving life. I am a non-smoker (for 8 days) and someone who does what she says she is going to do. Now, to work.
Yahoo Group will be set up this evening. For those interested, email me your emails at possibility614@yahoo.com and I'll set up.
Mucho Gusto.
Kim
And I felt great-- didn't work up a sweat, but I am taking care of myself. At least that's what the lady in the front of the room said.
I watched the sun rise out of the window, reflected onto the mirrors of the studio. And I prayed.
I prayed for me.
To be stronger in the moments I need strength.
To be vulnerable and ask for help.
To be given just a bit more than I think I can handle.
To lessen my psychic load when it weighs me down.
To put my shoulders back in place.
To forgive my enemies and make them friends.
To forgive my friends and make them family.
To forgive my family and make them loved again.
I prayed for others.
To have their loads lessened.
To have clarity.
To be stronger in the world.
To notice what the important things are. And they they are not things.
I prayed for you.
To thank you for supporting me.
For loving me
just as I am, and as I am not.
And as I wrote this, forgiveness happened. And all became glorious and vulnerable again.
Today, I am loving life. I am a non-smoker (for 8 days) and someone who does what she says she is going to do. Now, to work.
Yahoo Group will be set up this evening. For those interested, email me your emails at possibility614@yahoo.com and I'll set up.
Mucho Gusto.
Kim
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Fessing up.
Beef--Unless it's ground, it isn't the best idea for me. After one little piece (okay it was bigger than little, but enough for a regular bite) and not enough chewing, I spent 15 minutes in the bathroom trying to puke it out. Retching over the bowl trying to think of every gross thing that would have me dry heave to maybe, perhaps get the alien out of my tummy, spitting out foam and goo and not the alien stuck just beyond my reach. Then I stuck my finger down my throat, and in three tries, up it came. And then went I did felt like a champion.
Except when I looked at my face. Red face, bloodshot around my eyes, watery eyes, makeup streaming down my face. Not fucking cute at all.
I don't have a regular stomach. Why would I take regular bites?
So beef, steak, strips, cubes-- not a good idea.
I'm going to fess up, so far (and it's only Tuesday) I have had three bags of Doritos, a bag of popcorn, 2 bags of peanut butter M&Ms and a twix bar. And that's just at work. At home I have eaten two very delicious chocolate bars and the rest, stayed on plan. WHAT THE FUCK????
Does anyone else want to fess up and call this shit complete? How can we onliners support each other as a community? I need support, and although I love the comments, I need like a daily written support that would have me fess up be in action, be on plan. A place I knew I could write in and someone would respond. I am hesistant to use OH because, well, freakzoids sometimes show up there (doesn't anyone ever pass pysch evals?) and I don't want a lot of other people's agenda (God. No God. Mexico. Plastics. No Plastics. Insurance Woes. Opinions about politics. Lack of opinions about politics. My new haircut. Etc).
If I started a Yahoo group that was aimed at WLS patients or pre-patients (or those that love WLS patients that want to declare a goal and be accountable) with the idea that it is all about keeping each other accountable in our journey (like food plans, exercise, creating goals and maintaining them) who would to join? Would it be like throwing a party and no one comes? What about all those folks that aren't bloggers but surf. Would they join?
Hmmm. I need something. I don't care that most of us live hours away from each other, but it would be really nice to head to an OA meeting with someone who knows me.....
Except when I looked at my face. Red face, bloodshot around my eyes, watery eyes, makeup streaming down my face. Not fucking cute at all.
I don't have a regular stomach. Why would I take regular bites?
So beef, steak, strips, cubes-- not a good idea.
I'm going to fess up, so far (and it's only Tuesday) I have had three bags of Doritos, a bag of popcorn, 2 bags of peanut butter M&Ms and a twix bar. And that's just at work. At home I have eaten two very delicious chocolate bars and the rest, stayed on plan. WHAT THE FUCK????
Does anyone else want to fess up and call this shit complete? How can we onliners support each other as a community? I need support, and although I love the comments, I need like a daily written support that would have me fess up be in action, be on plan. A place I knew I could write in and someone would respond. I am hesistant to use OH because, well, freakzoids sometimes show up there (doesn't anyone ever pass pysch evals?) and I don't want a lot of other people's agenda (God. No God. Mexico. Plastics. No Plastics. Insurance Woes. Opinions about politics. Lack of opinions about politics. My new haircut. Etc).
If I started a Yahoo group that was aimed at WLS patients or pre-patients (or those that love WLS patients that want to declare a goal and be accountable) with the idea that it is all about keeping each other accountable in our journey (like food plans, exercise, creating goals and maintaining them) who would to join? Would it be like throwing a party and no one comes? What about all those folks that aren't bloggers but surf. Would they join?
Hmmm. I need something. I don't care that most of us live hours away from each other, but it would be really nice to head to an OA meeting with someone who knows me.....
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Blasting from the pasting
Normally I would not do this. I would just have sat and cried, and tried to work this out on my own.
I got a lovely email from a man from college time this morning. This first man whom I ever saw my beauty reflected back in his eyes. He had plays written about him, dreams created, and stories upon stories of what might have been. The what's so was a beautiful evening over 13 years ago when I could see what it was going to take to become a woman. That night, I did not step into being a woman, and we shared nothing more than a kiss on the hand and a shoulder rub, and a very sweet song. And he has stayed with me this whole time.
He found me. And told me again of my beauty. Shocked, to say the least. But his words came from such a loving and perfect place, that I had to respond. And in my tank top and ripped undies I wrote this:
"The party ended and I left on cloud nine. I drove back to my apartment in Solana Beach with the sun coming up and had the most beautiful sunrise ever in history greet me and my day. I was absolutely infatuated with you, I may have even thought it was love because it was so pure, with no attachment, with grace and ease--even just for those few hours. (Your sister) may have told you I even wrote a play about that night-- entirely fiction, but it was a way to keep that beautiful moment alive for me for years. You are correct, I didn't refute. If given the opportunity again, I wonder how things would have been different.
I know you are married. (Your Sister) is so proud of you and shows you off when she can. I have heard about your ups and downs over the years and am happy that you have an extraordinary life with all the bumps included. I also know that I am beautiful. And I thank you for saying that (emailing, at least) because the first time I ever felt beautiful was when I was lying on your couch rubbing your shoulders and you kissed my hand and made that declaration. Over the years others have told me the same, but never was it so sweet, so honest when you said it. I recently found another man who I believe when he says it, my James. And possibly for the first time in my life, I am open to another human being to love.
Alas, there is nothing to be done about this. Except to say thank you. I often wondered if you knew that the night I met you my life changed forever. Now you do. That was the night that I realized what it is to be a woman.
I wish you and your family the best that life has to offer. I look forward to meeting again at some family gathering of the (insert family name here) clan. And I wish you well. You impacted my life in ways you never knew. And now you know."
After writing this, I crawled back into bed with James. And he said "How was the gym... wait, why are you crying?" and I told him the story of loving someone so perfect in a moment, just for a few hours and then living on that as fuel for years. And always in the search of that honesty, regardless of the circumstances. And that that one night had me make a decision (conversely) to believe that I would only be good enough for "second best" -- that if given different circumstances, i would be the one. But that someone else had been chosen to be the one before I had a chance. This would repeat itself throughout the course of my life. With boyfriends, with jobs, with friends, with living arrangements, with passions.
I've done things I am not proud of. And yet, I still can love myself.
And James held me. And he said "You are MY One. And I am not going anywhere. Nothing in your past would have me love you any less than I do right now."
I love my James. I am going to marry him and be with him for forever. And we will have little round green-eyed babies that laugh loudly and cry softly and never can be without sunscreen. And I am whole and complete, and there is nothing left to say to the blast from the past other than thank you.
Life hands you opportunites to make choices along the way. Its in the matter of choosing that makes the difference.
I got a lovely email from a man from college time this morning. This first man whom I ever saw my beauty reflected back in his eyes. He had plays written about him, dreams created, and stories upon stories of what might have been. The what's so was a beautiful evening over 13 years ago when I could see what it was going to take to become a woman. That night, I did not step into being a woman, and we shared nothing more than a kiss on the hand and a shoulder rub, and a very sweet song. And he has stayed with me this whole time.
He found me. And told me again of my beauty. Shocked, to say the least. But his words came from such a loving and perfect place, that I had to respond. And in my tank top and ripped undies I wrote this:
"The party ended and I left on cloud nine. I drove back to my apartment in Solana Beach with the sun coming up and had the most beautiful sunrise ever in history greet me and my day. I was absolutely infatuated with you, I may have even thought it was love because it was so pure, with no attachment, with grace and ease--even just for those few hours. (Your sister) may have told you I even wrote a play about that night-- entirely fiction, but it was a way to keep that beautiful moment alive for me for years. You are correct, I didn't refute. If given the opportunity again, I wonder how things would have been different.
I know you are married. (Your Sister) is so proud of you and shows you off when she can. I have heard about your ups and downs over the years and am happy that you have an extraordinary life with all the bumps included. I also know that I am beautiful. And I thank you for saying that (emailing, at least) because the first time I ever felt beautiful was when I was lying on your couch rubbing your shoulders and you kissed my hand and made that declaration. Over the years others have told me the same, but never was it so sweet, so honest when you said it. I recently found another man who I believe when he says it, my James. And possibly for the first time in my life, I am open to another human being to love.
Alas, there is nothing to be done about this. Except to say thank you. I often wondered if you knew that the night I met you my life changed forever. Now you do. That was the night that I realized what it is to be a woman.
I wish you and your family the best that life has to offer. I look forward to meeting again at some family gathering of the (insert family name here) clan. And I wish you well. You impacted my life in ways you never knew. And now you know."
After writing this, I crawled back into bed with James. And he said "How was the gym... wait, why are you crying?" and I told him the story of loving someone so perfect in a moment, just for a few hours and then living on that as fuel for years. And always in the search of that honesty, regardless of the circumstances. And that that one night had me make a decision (conversely) to believe that I would only be good enough for "second best" -- that if given different circumstances, i would be the one. But that someone else had been chosen to be the one before I had a chance. This would repeat itself throughout the course of my life. With boyfriends, with jobs, with friends, with living arrangements, with passions.
I've done things I am not proud of. And yet, I still can love myself.
And James held me. And he said "You are MY One. And I am not going anywhere. Nothing in your past would have me love you any less than I do right now."
I love my James. I am going to marry him and be with him for forever. And we will have little round green-eyed babies that laugh loudly and cry softly and never can be without sunscreen. And I am whole and complete, and there is nothing left to say to the blast from the past other than thank you.
Life hands you opportunites to make choices along the way. Its in the matter of choosing that makes the difference.
Friday, September 26, 2008
How to gain three pounds in one day
Breathe. Today you are a non-smoker.
Get out of bed.
Eat one half of a chicken breast with brown sauce.
Walk.
Eat a decent lunch of ham and cheese and mushroom crepes. Leave half behind.
Get a haircut.
Have one skim cappuccino.
Eat 2 bunches of grapes, 3 hunks of brie, 5 crackers, and a handful of Doritos. With dip.
Have one Vodka and Soda and lime. Want two more, but just have one.
Go home.
Watch Project Runway and The Challenge on DVR.
Eat some chicken soup, and the rest of the sleeve of tea biscuits and scour the cabinets for carbs and sugar. Eat two candy bars and some peanut butter.
Fall asleep on the couch in sugar coma. Wake up at dark o'clock and transfer to bedroom.
Get up.
Weigh self.
Gain three pounds.
Now, I know it's just the normal ups and downs of everyday weight. However, here is the pattern. The pattern of what has been happening and what is my foreseeable future. This is the reason I haven't lost anything in three months. I am too busy treating myself.
This weekend, the cabinets get cleared. Everything goes. Anything that looks like a sugar or carb (chips, candy, cookies, "snacks") goes. Vigilance. And then meals and portions get planned. A food scale will be purchased. Weighing and measuring will happen.
The treat to myself is a long term healthy lifestyle. A size 10 jean. A great body, the ability to run for 5 miles. A very long bike ride. New clothes for a new frame. A long life, smoke free and clear. Not the tea biscuits from Harrods.
Get out of bed.
Eat one half of a chicken breast with brown sauce.
Walk.
Eat a decent lunch of ham and cheese and mushroom crepes. Leave half behind.
Get a haircut.
Have one skim cappuccino.
Eat 2 bunches of grapes, 3 hunks of brie, 5 crackers, and a handful of Doritos. With dip.
Have one Vodka and Soda and lime. Want two more, but just have one.
Go home.
Watch Project Runway and The Challenge on DVR.
Eat some chicken soup, and the rest of the sleeve of tea biscuits and scour the cabinets for carbs and sugar. Eat two candy bars and some peanut butter.
Fall asleep on the couch in sugar coma. Wake up at dark o'clock and transfer to bedroom.
Get up.
Weigh self.
Gain three pounds.
Now, I know it's just the normal ups and downs of everyday weight. However, here is the pattern. The pattern of what has been happening and what is my foreseeable future. This is the reason I haven't lost anything in three months. I am too busy treating myself.
This weekend, the cabinets get cleared. Everything goes. Anything that looks like a sugar or carb (chips, candy, cookies, "snacks") goes. Vigilance. And then meals and portions get planned. A food scale will be purchased. Weighing and measuring will happen.
The treat to myself is a long term healthy lifestyle. A size 10 jean. A great body, the ability to run for 5 miles. A very long bike ride. New clothes for a new frame. A long life, smoke free and clear. Not the tea biscuits from Harrods.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Never miss an opportunity....
To miss an opportunity. The Mets lost. 10 innings.
We got to the stadium and I found out that 3 of the 8 brothers also had tickets. So I got to meet the rest of the family (minus two wives and three children). I think I have to take a test now and get a certificate.
We sat down in our seats. The last time I was at a game I was crammed into my seat, and it hurt. And I spilled two beers down some guys shirt because I couldn't balance them on my lap. But that was at the Yankees game so it didn't matter.
This time I had plenty of room. And I was cold. And the boyfriend kept me warm with his hands and arms wrapped around me. Losing over 100 pounds has body heat vanish quickly. I only sweat when I am working up a sweat. I have been wearing a scarf since the end of August. I can only imagine what this winter will be like.
Today, no gym. Maybe tonight. For sure, I am going to make a one pot meal for tonight and have that yummy goodness to come home to after work. And I am going to bed at a very decent hour.
Being vigilant with food after a couple months of fucking off is hard. I really want those chips. And that chocolate. I do without the alcohol, it's never really been my thing anyways. I have to keep imagining me in size 10 jeans. I know I can get there. I haven't been a size 10 since I was about 11 years old. How cool will that be? Although, those screaming dill pickle Pringles do taste mighty fine.
This weekend's plans filled up quickly. We have errands to run, and work to do. And I love it. After a very cool email exchange yesterday, both of us realize that we don't have that built in alone time when we are together. Because we are so focused on being together, that the alone time of errands, hanging out with our girl/guy friends, paying bills, straightening our places just doesn't happen. So this weekend we are going to try something new. Being together without laying on the couch or in bed all day. I mean, I love the laying in bed all day, talking, kissing, etc, but we are way more interesting than that. And we have things in our lives that we have to accomplish, fer Chrissakes.
So this weekend is not totally alone time, but time to be together but doing what we need to do. I am pretty dang excited by it-- I have to return two broken suitcases and get those fixed, and maybe head to target for some kitchen stuff. And for sure do bills. Between today and tomorrow at work there is a big project to complete, so there is that to take care of as well. And I need a dang haircut, so maybe on Friday I can take care of that!
This week I don't have a class on Friday, so I get to be a little more normal than usual. I get to have a whole weekend, and two nights with the man. We are learning to sleep sleep together nicely. He still says I take up to much room on the bed, but he is a cuddler and warm, like car heat. So without him, I had to pull out the down comforter last night. And it was glorious. He'll be a sweat bomb in it, so I'm sure we'll split the covers at some point.
For those of you that follow but don't blog every day, trust me when I say it brings you out of a funk. I am so pleased to be back and writing, even if it's just little things. And thank you for each and every that follow me and read. My journey is my own, but I am pleased to share it with others on their path.
A little shout out to the ladies headed to Philly! I'd love to be there but in fact have class that whole weekend. But my love and support will come from 2 hours up north!
We got to the stadium and I found out that 3 of the 8 brothers also had tickets. So I got to meet the rest of the family (minus two wives and three children). I think I have to take a test now and get a certificate.
We sat down in our seats. The last time I was at a game I was crammed into my seat, and it hurt. And I spilled two beers down some guys shirt because I couldn't balance them on my lap. But that was at the Yankees game so it didn't matter.
This time I had plenty of room. And I was cold. And the boyfriend kept me warm with his hands and arms wrapped around me. Losing over 100 pounds has body heat vanish quickly. I only sweat when I am working up a sweat. I have been wearing a scarf since the end of August. I can only imagine what this winter will be like.
Today, no gym. Maybe tonight. For sure, I am going to make a one pot meal for tonight and have that yummy goodness to come home to after work. And I am going to bed at a very decent hour.
Being vigilant with food after a couple months of fucking off is hard. I really want those chips. And that chocolate. I do without the alcohol, it's never really been my thing anyways. I have to keep imagining me in size 10 jeans. I know I can get there. I haven't been a size 10 since I was about 11 years old. How cool will that be? Although, those screaming dill pickle Pringles do taste mighty fine.
This weekend's plans filled up quickly. We have errands to run, and work to do. And I love it. After a very cool email exchange yesterday, both of us realize that we don't have that built in alone time when we are together. Because we are so focused on being together, that the alone time of errands, hanging out with our girl/guy friends, paying bills, straightening our places just doesn't happen. So this weekend we are going to try something new. Being together without laying on the couch or in bed all day. I mean, I love the laying in bed all day, talking, kissing, etc, but we are way more interesting than that. And we have things in our lives that we have to accomplish, fer Chrissakes.
So this weekend is not totally alone time, but time to be together but doing what we need to do. I am pretty dang excited by it-- I have to return two broken suitcases and get those fixed, and maybe head to target for some kitchen stuff. And for sure do bills. Between today and tomorrow at work there is a big project to complete, so there is that to take care of as well. And I need a dang haircut, so maybe on Friday I can take care of that!
This week I don't have a class on Friday, so I get to be a little more normal than usual. I get to have a whole weekend, and two nights with the man. We are learning to sleep sleep together nicely. He still says I take up to much room on the bed, but he is a cuddler and warm, like car heat. So without him, I had to pull out the down comforter last night. And it was glorious. He'll be a sweat bomb in it, so I'm sure we'll split the covers at some point.
For those of you that follow but don't blog every day, trust me when I say it brings you out of a funk. I am so pleased to be back and writing, even if it's just little things. And thank you for each and every that follow me and read. My journey is my own, but I am pleased to share it with others on their path.
A little shout out to the ladies headed to Philly! I'd love to be there but in fact have class that whole weekend. But my love and support will come from 2 hours up north!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Back to the Gym
Since I returned from my trip to Spain, I have had the best kind of jet lag. The kind that makes me want to go to bed by 9:30pm and wake up at 5:30am. And it's glorious. I wake up and it is the darkest part before the dawn, everything is still, very few if any noises come from the street below.
And I think, I am the luckiest girl in the world. I have a new lease on life. I choose to live this new day (thanks Dag, if you are still out there). And this new day is full of wonder.
Then my tape recorder in my head goes off with all the negative stuff-- not enough too much, shoulds and shouldn'ts. This morning I turned it off by going to the gym.
Just 25 minutes. Well actually 28. Walking on the treadmill. Fast walking, working up a sweat. Getting hungry for breakfast. Needing to drink water. And sweating. Watching the news, hoping to see a friend anchor on CNN, but coming up with the financial crisis.
And having the tape recorder go off again. Need to pay bills, need to make more money, need to be stable before I start some other chapter of my life. What will all this mean for me, will my firend's business work? Will I be able to go back to school and work? Will I ever let go of the struggle to be better, more, enough? And then I turn up the level and start almost running.
A year ago I wasn't yet cleared to do exercise. This year I am 100 pounds less and almost running with no (or little) effort. I know what will take me to that next level. Intention. Vigilance. Being gentle in times I need to take care of myself emotionally and being bold and powerful when I need to take care of myself physically. Loving myself for where I am at.
I think that's the best-- I love me for where I am at right now. I look at pictures taken a couple years ago and see my sadness, covered up with bright smiles. I think back to picking out every outfit and how it will make me look. And knowing how beautiful I felt in the arms of this one or that one. That I was made to feel beautiful because I was liked, loved or desired.
I feel calm and grown-up. I feel like I can observe my life today without judgement. For today I will do what there is to do, accomplish what I do, leave other tasks for another day. And then tonight I will meet the man on the 7 platform and we will go to a baseball game for a team he loves, and because I love him, I love that team.
All because of jet lag and the gym.
And I think, I am the luckiest girl in the world. I have a new lease on life. I choose to live this new day (thanks Dag, if you are still out there). And this new day is full of wonder.
Then my tape recorder in my head goes off with all the negative stuff-- not enough too much, shoulds and shouldn'ts. This morning I turned it off by going to the gym.
Just 25 minutes. Well actually 28. Walking on the treadmill. Fast walking, working up a sweat. Getting hungry for breakfast. Needing to drink water. And sweating. Watching the news, hoping to see a friend anchor on CNN, but coming up with the financial crisis.
And having the tape recorder go off again. Need to pay bills, need to make more money, need to be stable before I start some other chapter of my life. What will all this mean for me, will my firend's business work? Will I be able to go back to school and work? Will I ever let go of the struggle to be better, more, enough? And then I turn up the level and start almost running.
A year ago I wasn't yet cleared to do exercise. This year I am 100 pounds less and almost running with no (or little) effort. I know what will take me to that next level. Intention. Vigilance. Being gentle in times I need to take care of myself emotionally and being bold and powerful when I need to take care of myself physically. Loving myself for where I am at.
I think that's the best-- I love me for where I am at right now. I look at pictures taken a couple years ago and see my sadness, covered up with bright smiles. I think back to picking out every outfit and how it will make me look. And knowing how beautiful I felt in the arms of this one or that one. That I was made to feel beautiful because I was liked, loved or desired.
I feel calm and grown-up. I feel like I can observe my life today without judgement. For today I will do what there is to do, accomplish what I do, leave other tasks for another day. And then tonight I will meet the man on the 7 platform and we will go to a baseball game for a team he loves, and because I love him, I love that team.
All because of jet lag and the gym.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
3 month stall
I've been at a three month stall. About the same 2-5 pounds for the last three months.
What does that mean?
So here's what I am doing that I am not proud of.
1) Smoking on and off. Quitting again today.
2) Eating and drinking together. A little water washes down the food.
3) Not drinking enough water when I think I am hungry. I eat instead.
4) Sitting in front of the TV or computer while eating. Not paying attention to my meals. Not taking a meal as an opportunity to nourish, rather as an opportunity to zone out.
5) Eating more than 3 meals a day. Yup, grazing.
6) Alcohol. With the conferences, a drink or five is a good idea.
7) Cookies. Sugar. Candy. I keep thinking I'll dump on them, and yet, no, no I don't.
8) Talking about working out. Thinking about working out. Not working out.
9) Making choices about food based on "what I like" vs. what I need. I need protein. I need veggies. I don't need lemon tarts.
10) Going in late to work. I can tell when I am out of integrity when I keep showing up later and later.
11) Coffee. Buckets of it. With milk. And sugar (or splenda if available).
12) Bread. With cheese, with sausage, with meat with fruit.
13) Not moving enough. Too much couch time.
Most of all, I am not being gentle and kind to myself. At all.
So the three month stall I will call complete. From today forward, I am taking on the last bit of weightloss anew. Like this is the weight I started at, and now I want to get to a size 10 in jeans/ pants and a size medium in tops. And I will lose another 70 pounds by June of next year. That gives me 9 months to get going, a little under 10 pounds a month. By June 2009, I will have run a 10K. Run. Not walk, but run.
Here's what I will do to make that happen:
1) Water first. Then 1/2 hour later, meals.
2) All my vitamins, every day.
3) Drink water 1 hour after meals to a total of 64 oz a day.
4) Gym time 4 days a week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday and once on the weekend. 5 K walk on the weekend to running.
5) Re-convene my support team. This includes therapist, nutritionist, and fellow WLS ladies. Including friends that will support me by working out, doing active things together, and creating healthy lifestyles.
6) Enroll the boyfriend into working out with me. Have him join the gym with me by November.
7) Plan for 8 hours of sleep every night.
8) No eating after 8pm, if that is dinner time.
9) Get to work by 8:30 every morning. No emails until lunchtime, and then home by 6pm. Gym at 6:30 (except Wednesdays and Fridays-- will do the gym at 6:30am)
10) Write every day.
One of the things I notice is that I go missing, and don't have a voice. I skip out on keeping the journal, which has me not remember exactly when or what I have done. I call that complete as well.
Life is actually good right now. My clothes are getting bigger, I think I am getting smaller. I have started a new routine that could have my stall be medical, but I will bust through that. The boyfriend and I are happy, and talking about the when he will move in. It's kinda huge and scary-- because he's never lived anywhere but with his family, and I've never shared a place with someone I love. Lots of stuff to move around.
Okay, complete. And start again.
What does that mean?
So here's what I am doing that I am not proud of.
1) Smoking on and off. Quitting again today.
2) Eating and drinking together. A little water washes down the food.
3) Not drinking enough water when I think I am hungry. I eat instead.
4) Sitting in front of the TV or computer while eating. Not paying attention to my meals. Not taking a meal as an opportunity to nourish, rather as an opportunity to zone out.
5) Eating more than 3 meals a day. Yup, grazing.
6) Alcohol. With the conferences, a drink or five is a good idea.
7) Cookies. Sugar. Candy. I keep thinking I'll dump on them, and yet, no, no I don't.
8) Talking about working out. Thinking about working out. Not working out.
9) Making choices about food based on "what I like" vs. what I need. I need protein. I need veggies. I don't need lemon tarts.
10) Going in late to work. I can tell when I am out of integrity when I keep showing up later and later.
11) Coffee. Buckets of it. With milk. And sugar (or splenda if available).
12) Bread. With cheese, with sausage, with meat with fruit.
13) Not moving enough. Too much couch time.
Most of all, I am not being gentle and kind to myself. At all.
So the three month stall I will call complete. From today forward, I am taking on the last bit of weightloss anew. Like this is the weight I started at, and now I want to get to a size 10 in jeans/ pants and a size medium in tops. And I will lose another 70 pounds by June of next year. That gives me 9 months to get going, a little under 10 pounds a month. By June 2009, I will have run a 10K. Run. Not walk, but run.
Here's what I will do to make that happen:
1) Water first. Then 1/2 hour later, meals.
2) All my vitamins, every day.
3) Drink water 1 hour after meals to a total of 64 oz a day.
4) Gym time 4 days a week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday and once on the weekend. 5 K walk on the weekend to running.
5) Re-convene my support team. This includes therapist, nutritionist, and fellow WLS ladies. Including friends that will support me by working out, doing active things together, and creating healthy lifestyles.
6) Enroll the boyfriend into working out with me. Have him join the gym with me by November.
7) Plan for 8 hours of sleep every night.
8) No eating after 8pm, if that is dinner time.
9) Get to work by 8:30 every morning. No emails until lunchtime, and then home by 6pm. Gym at 6:30 (except Wednesdays and Fridays-- will do the gym at 6:30am)
10) Write every day.
One of the things I notice is that I go missing, and don't have a voice. I skip out on keeping the journal, which has me not remember exactly when or what I have done. I call that complete as well.
Life is actually good right now. My clothes are getting bigger, I think I am getting smaller. I have started a new routine that could have my stall be medical, but I will bust through that. The boyfriend and I are happy, and talking about the when he will move in. It's kinda huge and scary-- because he's never lived anywhere but with his family, and I've never shared a place with someone I love. Lots of stuff to move around.
Okay, complete. And start again.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
No excuses
There is no excuse for my absence. I wish I could say it was something along the lines of being eaten by a bear, or my visit to the homeland and the reindeer migration I had to do (did anyone else see exiled on MTV and want to bash some vapid little 19 year old skulls in??), or any such other Auntie Mame-ish type of adventure, however, it's just me and my busy life and a lack of wanting to say something.
So thank you for Tracy for looking out for me, prodding me, coaxing me back into blog land.
Here's the what's so.....
The boyfriend and I have been dating for three months and a couple days. There is talk of moving in together, there are I love yous. There is conversation about what our lives will look like beyond right now, when we are creating it together.
People always say, you'll know when it's right. It's right. It's so right it's wrong because he shouldn't be the one. In my head, my one would be physically taller and make more money and all that's just bullshit. He's got the sweetest softest heart, he's still a guy and does guy things like sports and video games and a lack of toliet paper roll on the actual roll. He's afraid to make a mess in bed, and I always say "Sex is messy, honey. It just is. That's what showers are for." He's ticklish, he's caring, he loves kids. He's super patient, and he listens. And to top it off, he's cute as hell and sings along with the radio and I love love love him. My match.
And for him, I am so right I am wrong. I should be about 4 inches shorter, brown hair and bigger boobs. I should be in some job that doesn't have me travel, that comes from a decent sized family in LI and understands the intracacies of hockey and roast beek is mayo not mustard, but ham can be both. What he got instead was a musical theater singing Amazon with small tits and a big ass that puts Italian dressing on her sandwiches. Thank god he likes the ass.
We went on holiday together. A whole week of 24-7 in Canada, the baseball hall of fame, the caverns at Howe, and a lot of car time. And not only do I love him, I love him more for it.
So, that's the what so on the boyfriend.
And the what's so on the scale......
I haven't lost much weight. More on that later.
So thank you for Tracy for looking out for me, prodding me, coaxing me back into blog land.
Here's the what's so.....
The boyfriend and I have been dating for three months and a couple days. There is talk of moving in together, there are I love yous. There is conversation about what our lives will look like beyond right now, when we are creating it together.
People always say, you'll know when it's right. It's right. It's so right it's wrong because he shouldn't be the one. In my head, my one would be physically taller and make more money and all that's just bullshit. He's got the sweetest softest heart, he's still a guy and does guy things like sports and video games and a lack of toliet paper roll on the actual roll. He's afraid to make a mess in bed, and I always say "Sex is messy, honey. It just is. That's what showers are for." He's ticklish, he's caring, he loves kids. He's super patient, and he listens. And to top it off, he's cute as hell and sings along with the radio and I love love love him. My match.
And for him, I am so right I am wrong. I should be about 4 inches shorter, brown hair and bigger boobs. I should be in some job that doesn't have me travel, that comes from a decent sized family in LI and understands the intracacies of hockey and roast beek is mayo not mustard, but ham can be both. What he got instead was a musical theater singing Amazon with small tits and a big ass that puts Italian dressing on her sandwiches. Thank god he likes the ass.
We went on holiday together. A whole week of 24-7 in Canada, the baseball hall of fame, the caverns at Howe, and a lot of car time. And not only do I love him, I love him more for it.
So, that's the what so on the boyfriend.
And the what's so on the scale......
I haven't lost much weight. More on that later.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
It's been a long, been a long, been a long day!
Last night, the man and I went to see the Dark Knight. I liked it, and fell asleep on his lap about 2/3 of the way through the movie. The action sequences were making me a little pukey, so I laid my head down and was out like a light. At the end, he said, wake up darling, the movie's over-- just like my dad would when I was a little girl.
How I long for drive in movies. Where I can properly fall asleep in the car.
Work is turning into a bit more of a challenge than I'd like. There are a lot of programs and really not enough time to make it all happen to the level I want it to happen at. I think I am done trying to kill myself over these things, over the tiniest of tiny details. No one cares anyways-- except me. I wish I could be one of those people that could say "it doesn't matter" , but it does. I take things personally, I have a soft soft skin, and I feel bad when I haven't performed to the best of my ability.
I promise I will blog more later this week. I have so much to say.
The man-- he's a good boy. He picked up his trash from the theater. And threw it in a garbage can. And only moderately fondled me when the lights went down, he pulled down my sweater when it rode up and separated from my jeans. He's a good man. Sweet and respectful.
How I long for drive in movies. Where I can properly fall asleep in the car.
Work is turning into a bit more of a challenge than I'd like. There are a lot of programs and really not enough time to make it all happen to the level I want it to happen at. I think I am done trying to kill myself over these things, over the tiniest of tiny details. No one cares anyways-- except me. I wish I could be one of those people that could say "it doesn't matter" , but it does. I take things personally, I have a soft soft skin, and I feel bad when I haven't performed to the best of my ability.
I promise I will blog more later this week. I have so much to say.
The man-- he's a good boy. He picked up his trash from the theater. And threw it in a garbage can. And only moderately fondled me when the lights went down, he pulled down my sweater when it rode up and separated from my jeans. He's a good man. Sweet and respectful.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Jet Lag Sucks
I've been up since about 3am after falling asleep on the couch at 9:30 and then taking myself to bed at 12:30. And then, 3am, wide freakin' awake.
Jet Lag Sucks.
The good news is that I have slogged through all my mail for 3.5 weeks and only have a few bills to pay and a few checks to deposit.
Back to work yesterday-- it wasn't so bad. There are a lot of things to do, but ultimately I think it worked out well. Over the next three weeks there are a lot of programs to take care of, and I think we can handle them all. Then soon after-- vacation. That will be awesome.
Tonight I take a train out to the boyfriends house and meet the parents for dinner. I am not nervous, but excited. He's such a good man, I want to thank his folks for raising him right.
He picked me up at the airport with flowers. So sweet. And then we spent the next 20 hours with each other, kissing, cuddling, talking-- just getting to know each other again. I really love this man. He made me a mix playlist of songs he loves and that remind him of me. Ahhh.
I have pictures to post. I have no idea when I will get to them. After I meet the parents tonight, we head out to the North Fork of LI and have a weekend at a B&B. Walks on the beach, pool time, country band listening, and general "I've missed you.".
My mom asked me if she should start saving for a wedding. I told her it would be a good idea. I want to spend as much time with him as possible, and we make a really strong couple-- he's quiet to my bull in a china shop, both of us are mushy, he's calm to my fighter, I'm patient to his anxiety, and both of us only want the best for each other. We adore each other. And neither of us are stingy with affection or words or gestures. We sleep entangled without being "get off me"-- and we are still learning to be in a relationship together.
Being gone for almost a month had me realize how much I love him and he me, and that there are things more important than work and money and whatnot. That being with another person and being truly known, that's the secret. Money and work are important, but balance is key.
So wedding? Well, she should start saving. I don't know if it will be so, but at least I want to be prepared. I can't imagine any time soon, and I don't want to push anything but I also can't imagine someone more perfect that I want to share my secrets with.
Jet Lag Sucks.
The good news is that I have slogged through all my mail for 3.5 weeks and only have a few bills to pay and a few checks to deposit.
Back to work yesterday-- it wasn't so bad. There are a lot of things to do, but ultimately I think it worked out well. Over the next three weeks there are a lot of programs to take care of, and I think we can handle them all. Then soon after-- vacation. That will be awesome.
Tonight I take a train out to the boyfriends house and meet the parents for dinner. I am not nervous, but excited. He's such a good man, I want to thank his folks for raising him right.
He picked me up at the airport with flowers. So sweet. And then we spent the next 20 hours with each other, kissing, cuddling, talking-- just getting to know each other again. I really love this man. He made me a mix playlist of songs he loves and that remind him of me. Ahhh.
I have pictures to post. I have no idea when I will get to them. After I meet the parents tonight, we head out to the North Fork of LI and have a weekend at a B&B. Walks on the beach, pool time, country band listening, and general "I've missed you.".
My mom asked me if she should start saving for a wedding. I told her it would be a good idea. I want to spend as much time with him as possible, and we make a really strong couple-- he's quiet to my bull in a china shop, both of us are mushy, he's calm to my fighter, I'm patient to his anxiety, and both of us only want the best for each other. We adore each other. And neither of us are stingy with affection or words or gestures. We sleep entangled without being "get off me"-- and we are still learning to be in a relationship together.
Being gone for almost a month had me realize how much I love him and he me, and that there are things more important than work and money and whatnot. That being with another person and being truly known, that's the secret. Money and work are important, but balance is key.
So wedding? Well, she should start saving. I don't know if it will be so, but at least I want to be prepared. I can't imagine any time soon, and I don't want to push anything but I also can't imagine someone more perfect that I want to share my secrets with.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Airplane food
This is just a small little post.
Can anyone tell me what this is.......?
I didn't think so. This is what I got for lunch from London to Frankfurt. I ate most of it, there seemed to be a fish thing and a bread thing and a mango thing. But the head cheese thing with the butter on the side.... well, I tried not to touch.
Germans are weird.
Friday, June 27, 2008
One Down
One down and one to go. I am so tired. I can't get cell reception out in the country because apparently the sheep take up everyone's minutes. Yup, the sheep. Fields and fields of them. You all know how much I like a good mutton chop, but yeah, sheep in fields. The good news is that it is not outside my door. It's just beyond that part.
I keep feeling I am being talked down to by the londoners. I guess I need to lighten up, but I want to come home and be with the boyfriend, and celebrate Ms. M's birthday with spa treatments and lovely cocktails, and relax on my sofa and watch bad American TV. Because bad American tv is SO MUCH BETTER than anything here. Last night I feel asleep to a show that is a documentary on bouncers. But I think it's called renegade or doormen or something equally as stupid. However, that was the best bit of TV I've seen so far. It was like porn for women who like the burly men-- all sorts of tall, huge shaved goateed men that throw out drunks. It was like a slice of big sweaty heaven, I loved it.
However, as I was flipping around, I landed on the cows and car chases channel. No joke. There were cows that stopped traffic, car chases through little towns, and then more cows.
I don't understand the Brits at all.
I'm tired of being on the road. I want to be home and yet I want to see the world. I might curl up with a book on Sunday and laze away the day. It's been a difficult journey. I miss my Mister. We've been keeping in touch with emails and phone calls but it's so early in the relationship it's hard. Although the I love yous are right there.
Oooh, I didn't share this with you. So, before I left, we were talking and kissing. And I didn't want to be the one that said it first. At all. I wanted to hear him say it. So I took his face in my hands and said "I love you, and it scares me, because I can see who you are, and you can see who I am, and I love you and I don't know how to be this vulnerable." and he cried and I cried and everyone loved each other forever and little birdies flew up into the sky in a heart shaped formation. Well actually, we relaxed into one another and held on. And he said "I love you and I didn't want to say it first." Then I called him a jackass, and he kissed my nose and I said it again and again.
And it didn't feel weird or too soon. And I just talked to him, so maybe I don't actually hate the British. Just their TV programming.
Good night.
I keep feeling I am being talked down to by the londoners. I guess I need to lighten up, but I want to come home and be with the boyfriend, and celebrate Ms. M's birthday with spa treatments and lovely cocktails, and relax on my sofa and watch bad American TV. Because bad American tv is SO MUCH BETTER than anything here. Last night I feel asleep to a show that is a documentary on bouncers. But I think it's called renegade or doormen or something equally as stupid. However, that was the best bit of TV I've seen so far. It was like porn for women who like the burly men-- all sorts of tall, huge shaved goateed men that throw out drunks. It was like a slice of big sweaty heaven, I loved it.
However, as I was flipping around, I landed on the cows and car chases channel. No joke. There were cows that stopped traffic, car chases through little towns, and then more cows.
I don't understand the Brits at all.
I'm tired of being on the road. I want to be home and yet I want to see the world. I might curl up with a book on Sunday and laze away the day. It's been a difficult journey. I miss my Mister. We've been keeping in touch with emails and phone calls but it's so early in the relationship it's hard. Although the I love yous are right there.
Oooh, I didn't share this with you. So, before I left, we were talking and kissing. And I didn't want to be the one that said it first. At all. I wanted to hear him say it. So I took his face in my hands and said "I love you, and it scares me, because I can see who you are, and you can see who I am, and I love you and I don't know how to be this vulnerable." and he cried and I cried and everyone loved each other forever and little birdies flew up into the sky in a heart shaped formation. Well actually, we relaxed into one another and held on. And he said "I love you and I didn't want to say it first." Then I called him a jackass, and he kissed my nose and I said it again and again.
And it didn't feel weird or too soon. And I just talked to him, so maybe I don't actually hate the British. Just their TV programming.
Good night.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Big Big Trip
Sunday night I leave for 23 days. 23 days. On the road in foreign lands.
First, I go to London. Stay a bit then off to Kent for a workshop. I am excited to see the English countryside. I am happy to eat English strawberries and scones and real clotted cream with tea. I am also excited to be out in the fresh air. I'm sure it smells like dirt and cows, but nothing that this city girl can't take.
Then back to London for a couple of days. Work work work from the office, laugh with co-workers, pat each other for a job well done. Maybe I'll even see a show. I think I deserve it.
Then off to Hong Kong with a small stop in Frankfurt. Just the airport, but I get to tick another country off my list. I've never been to Hong Kong. I imagine it's fast and loud and well lit and full of languages I can't understand. And all of me will stand in the middle, towering over everyone and go "Huh?".
Because this is the unimaginable life. Four years ago I was sitting at my uncle's house in Napa surrounded by family and love. I had just started a temp job with a company I had worked for before. I was making nothing per hour, commuting to Jersey every day. I was just getting over the depression of having lost a job I hated, which actually made me feel like no one wanted me.
Poor potato chip eating, sofa dwelling Big Girl, Big City.
And four years later, I am traveling the world. Meeting people and seeing things I never imagined I'd see. Creating great events and working really hard (and smart) for a company I truly respect. I don't get much couch time, and when I do, I love it. I don't stay there for long.
I don't know how I got so lucky. I don't know what the secret is. I mean, my house is still in disarray, I sleep on torn sheets, I have two suitcases that are broken and a whole slew of "throw away piles". I never get all my to-do's done, I forget to call people back. There are still conversations that lurk around that are "I'm (or it's) not enough". I feel guilty for sharing about travels and trips with folks that don't get to do that, and even guiltier sharing my "I'm so lonely" road stories with them.
But, I am out there, living my life. Working, loving, creating my messy messy life.
So, road trip for 23 days. I am not sure if I will be able to write all that often, but I will try. I will have no access to a scale. I think this is important for me. 3 weeks without weighing myself, I'll have no idea where I am in relationship to where I was. Or am right now.
Oh, interesting factoid. Purchased clothes from the plus department of old navy. 1x and XL. They fit. What the fuck, they fit? Yup, they fit. I'm going to do a little shopping in London, and in Hong Kong. Have a dress or a coat made, have some shoes made. Send postcards to family and loved ones. And have lots of conversations with people who also love what they do. Drink tea, work out, walk in the fresh air (applicable to Kent only), discover new places. Etc. Etc.
I will have lots of catching up to do when I get back. I can't wait!
First, I go to London. Stay a bit then off to Kent for a workshop. I am excited to see the English countryside. I am happy to eat English strawberries and scones and real clotted cream with tea. I am also excited to be out in the fresh air. I'm sure it smells like dirt and cows, but nothing that this city girl can't take.
Then back to London for a couple of days. Work work work from the office, laugh with co-workers, pat each other for a job well done. Maybe I'll even see a show. I think I deserve it.
Then off to Hong Kong with a small stop in Frankfurt. Just the airport, but I get to tick another country off my list. I've never been to Hong Kong. I imagine it's fast and loud and well lit and full of languages I can't understand. And all of me will stand in the middle, towering over everyone and go "Huh?".
Because this is the unimaginable life. Four years ago I was sitting at my uncle's house in Napa surrounded by family and love. I had just started a temp job with a company I had worked for before. I was making nothing per hour, commuting to Jersey every day. I was just getting over the depression of having lost a job I hated, which actually made me feel like no one wanted me.
Poor potato chip eating, sofa dwelling Big Girl, Big City.
And four years later, I am traveling the world. Meeting people and seeing things I never imagined I'd see. Creating great events and working really hard (and smart) for a company I truly respect. I don't get much couch time, and when I do, I love it. I don't stay there for long.
I don't know how I got so lucky. I don't know what the secret is. I mean, my house is still in disarray, I sleep on torn sheets, I have two suitcases that are broken and a whole slew of "throw away piles". I never get all my to-do's done, I forget to call people back. There are still conversations that lurk around that are "I'm (or it's) not enough". I feel guilty for sharing about travels and trips with folks that don't get to do that, and even guiltier sharing my "I'm so lonely" road stories with them.
But, I am out there, living my life. Working, loving, creating my messy messy life.
So, road trip for 23 days. I am not sure if I will be able to write all that often, but I will try. I will have no access to a scale. I think this is important for me. 3 weeks without weighing myself, I'll have no idea where I am in relationship to where I was. Or am right now.
Oh, interesting factoid. Purchased clothes from the plus department of old navy. 1x and XL. They fit. What the fuck, they fit? Yup, they fit. I'm going to do a little shopping in London, and in Hong Kong. Have a dress or a coat made, have some shoes made. Send postcards to family and loved ones. And have lots of conversations with people who also love what they do. Drink tea, work out, walk in the fresh air (applicable to Kent only), discover new places. Etc. Etc.
I will have lots of catching up to do when I get back. I can't wait!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
And the real reason
And the real reason I wrote this morning was to say I am in uncharted waters. I don't remember being this weight ever. I have dropped to 264 which is absolutely unheard of for me.
I remember being 216 in 8th grade, and exercising to heavy metal tapes and then jumping back on the scale to see if I had lost anything. The next weight I remember was about 280-ish in high school, more in the sophomore/junior year. Senior year I topped out at 302 the first time I was at Jenny Craig and then lost 30+ pounds.
But this weight I don't remember. I am completely in uncharted territory and am making it up as I go along..... I'd like to come back from the very very long trip at about 255, because I will take the TIME to WORK OUT.
Sugar makes me dump. Crampy, blech dumping. But not in the bathroom way, only in the "I think I am going to pass out way". I'm both happy and sad, I like birthday cake (well really, I like frosting) but I like feeling good much better. My body has changed in the last couple days and it's reacting to heavy meals, sugar and some meats. I am eating much lighter and feel better.
Ahh, unchartered waters....I like the view.....
I remember being 216 in 8th grade, and exercising to heavy metal tapes and then jumping back on the scale to see if I had lost anything. The next weight I remember was about 280-ish in high school, more in the sophomore/junior year. Senior year I topped out at 302 the first time I was at Jenny Craig and then lost 30+ pounds.
But this weight I don't remember. I am completely in uncharted territory and am making it up as I go along..... I'd like to come back from the very very long trip at about 255, because I will take the TIME to WORK OUT.
Sugar makes me dump. Crampy, blech dumping. But not in the bathroom way, only in the "I think I am going to pass out way". I'm both happy and sad, I like birthday cake (well really, I like frosting) but I like feeling good much better. My body has changed in the last couple days and it's reacting to heavy meals, sugar and some meats. I am eating much lighter and feel better.
Ahh, unchartered waters....I like the view.....
Beyond Expectations
So there is a new boy. Man. In my life. Let me recount last night for you.
I made dinner. He said he likes pasta, I made pasta. Good high protein kamut spirals with low fat cheese and my own sauce with turkey sausage. Low in fat, high in flavor. As I was making it I kept wondering "I hope he hasn't eaten yet, I hope he likes this." It was a little past the time when he should have arrived, and I though, "I hope he didn't get into an accident, what would happen-- would anyone call me?"
I started thinking about how great this relationship has been going. That its dreamy and solid, and its gentle and kind. And no drama. We both agree that we weren't experiencing fireworks on the first date, and good for that, because we got to know each other. And then I thought about how it could all be taken away from me with a bad car accident. I said a silent prayer, "please keep him safe". I couldn't sit still. Up from the computer, stir the sauce, calm down, up from the couch, do the dishes, sit down.
He arrived. I was worried about you, was there traffic? "Yes, a lot and I left late. " I calmed down considerably. He ate dinner and then some of mine. He liked it-- I didn't tell him it was good for him, he'll just have to live with the fact that things taste different over here.
We sat and smooched on the couch, listening to music. Eva Cassidy came on, and I told him the story of Mills and San Fernando mission and how much I miss him and it's not fair that people are taken away suddenly. Then Over the Rainbow came on and I told him it was my favorite song of hers, and my mom has requested it to be played when she passes on, and again I don't want to think about it ever and I promised her it would be. And with his head in my lap, he looked up at me. Tears were in his eyes. "Are you tired?" "No, my eyes are just watery".
Eventually, we made our way to the bedroom for some pillow talk. Gazing into each other's eyes, kissing, holding. He starts talking. Telling me how lucky he is and he wants this part to last. And that he wants me to be happy, he wants to make me happy like it's his job to do, and he's so excited for this adventure of me losing weight because he knows what it's like to be a fat kid and not want to take his shirt off at the pool and not fit in. I start crying. He tells me I am beautiful and a real woman and strong and kind. And he holds me closer and I weep into his shoulder.
He understands.
I tell him that it's odd to be with someone that has limited drama. I tell him about crazy dates I had and how since our first date, I am only thinking of him. I tell him that he is completely normal, and he takes it like its the best thing in the world, and it is. I tell him that I am still scared that there is something in the background that might scare me, and he says there's nothing. Looking into those pools of brown green, he repeats it. Then I say and mean "I trust you."
I trust you.
Then he starts crying a little bit, and I realize I have met my match, a man that can cry like me. As hard as he can look, with that voice of intimidation, he tells me that he sometimes forgets what I look like, the way my mouth moves when I talk, the way I play with my hair and that every time he sees me it's like meeting me again and again for the first time. And that he wants to hear me talk about how I am feeling, although there will come a day when he doesn't (Jackass), and I responded that "on those occasions I'll make sure the Mets are on so you'll have something to do..." We tease each other..... we both wrestle with how ticklish we are..... we both sing along with the music.....He's a total softie, and he's sentimental. And he's just choked up by me trusting him, because I am telling him that he does know me very well and I am uncomfortable being so vulnerable to another human, and he sees me, really sees me for who I am.
And we are laying in bed, fully clothed, holding one another and crying because our hearts have opened up to each other.
He tells me that he was crying earlier, because Over the Rainbow was the most beautiful song he's heard. But he didn't want to let me know he was sentimental because that's not guy behavior. I told him that I love the soft part of him. And that I know and "you'd tell me in due time".
I asked him if I could call him my boyfriend. He said yes on the caveat that he could call me his girlfriend. I agreed. More kissing, and then goodbye.
He makes me so very happy. I trust him. He's a good man. I'm not letting this one go.
I made dinner. He said he likes pasta, I made pasta. Good high protein kamut spirals with low fat cheese and my own sauce with turkey sausage. Low in fat, high in flavor. As I was making it I kept wondering "I hope he hasn't eaten yet, I hope he likes this." It was a little past the time when he should have arrived, and I though, "I hope he didn't get into an accident, what would happen-- would anyone call me?"
I started thinking about how great this relationship has been going. That its dreamy and solid, and its gentle and kind. And no drama. We both agree that we weren't experiencing fireworks on the first date, and good for that, because we got to know each other. And then I thought about how it could all be taken away from me with a bad car accident. I said a silent prayer, "please keep him safe". I couldn't sit still. Up from the computer, stir the sauce, calm down, up from the couch, do the dishes, sit down.
He arrived. I was worried about you, was there traffic? "Yes, a lot and I left late. " I calmed down considerably. He ate dinner and then some of mine. He liked it-- I didn't tell him it was good for him, he'll just have to live with the fact that things taste different over here.
We sat and smooched on the couch, listening to music. Eva Cassidy came on, and I told him the story of Mills and San Fernando mission and how much I miss him and it's not fair that people are taken away suddenly. Then Over the Rainbow came on and I told him it was my favorite song of hers, and my mom has requested it to be played when she passes on, and again I don't want to think about it ever and I promised her it would be. And with his head in my lap, he looked up at me. Tears were in his eyes. "Are you tired?" "No, my eyes are just watery".
Eventually, we made our way to the bedroom for some pillow talk. Gazing into each other's eyes, kissing, holding. He starts talking. Telling me how lucky he is and he wants this part to last. And that he wants me to be happy, he wants to make me happy like it's his job to do, and he's so excited for this adventure of me losing weight because he knows what it's like to be a fat kid and not want to take his shirt off at the pool and not fit in. I start crying. He tells me I am beautiful and a real woman and strong and kind. And he holds me closer and I weep into his shoulder.
He understands.
I tell him that it's odd to be with someone that has limited drama. I tell him about crazy dates I had and how since our first date, I am only thinking of him. I tell him that he is completely normal, and he takes it like its the best thing in the world, and it is. I tell him that I am still scared that there is something in the background that might scare me, and he says there's nothing. Looking into those pools of brown green, he repeats it. Then I say and mean "I trust you."
I trust you.
Then he starts crying a little bit, and I realize I have met my match, a man that can cry like me. As hard as he can look, with that voice of intimidation, he tells me that he sometimes forgets what I look like, the way my mouth moves when I talk, the way I play with my hair and that every time he sees me it's like meeting me again and again for the first time. And that he wants to hear me talk about how I am feeling, although there will come a day when he doesn't (Jackass), and I responded that "on those occasions I'll make sure the Mets are on so you'll have something to do..." We tease each other..... we both wrestle with how ticklish we are..... we both sing along with the music.....He's a total softie, and he's sentimental. And he's just choked up by me trusting him, because I am telling him that he does know me very well and I am uncomfortable being so vulnerable to another human, and he sees me, really sees me for who I am.
And we are laying in bed, fully clothed, holding one another and crying because our hearts have opened up to each other.
He tells me that he was crying earlier, because Over the Rainbow was the most beautiful song he's heard. But he didn't want to let me know he was sentimental because that's not guy behavior. I told him that I love the soft part of him. And that I know and "you'd tell me in due time".
I asked him if I could call him my boyfriend. He said yes on the caveat that he could call me his girlfriend. I agreed. More kissing, and then goodbye.
He makes me so very happy. I trust him. He's a good man. I'm not letting this one go.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
On 35
I am one year out from having made a decision to have Gastric Bypass. I made the decision the morning of my 34th birthday, although I had for months been saying, well maybe--- but that morning I knew. I knew I didn't want to spend another year trying to loose weight, trying to get to the gym, trying to date as a super plus sized woman, trying to fit into airplane seats, trying to just fit in.
I remember waking up and quietly deciding. I began to tell friends, my family was almost all aware. I saw my mom go through a blossoming of sorts, becoming more active, more healthy, more vibrant. I wanted that.
Today is the beginning of 35. What has changed?
1) Travel: I pack less. Partially because I have less and partially because my clothes are smaller. I fit in airplane seats with the arm rest down. No extenders, except when I am bloated like the trip back from Chicago and I don't want anything toughing my tummy.
2) Meals: I still want the burger with all the fixings, or the entire meal. Last night I had a cup of coffee and 10 bites of a salmon, cream cheese omelette. I was full, but not to uncomfortable. I don't dump on sugar like I had anticipated, so I can have a bite of chocolate or sweet, but I don't need to.
3) Meals on the Road: I enjoy having soup. I enjoy eating yogurt. I don't drink juice or have more than 2 cocktails in a 6 hour period. The only bubbly thing I've had is flat diet coke with rum or jack and the glass of champagne at Cassie's wedding. I try to stick with not drinking and eating together. I have learned to experiment with food-- I eat appetizers and pull things apart. I have shucked more cheese sticks from their fried goodness than most people ever will, I have eaten the goo out of dumplings. I have yet to eat a bread sandwich-- I have had a crossaint but it took me two meals to eat the sandwich. I eat protein bars and lots of nuts and jerky.
4) Clothes: I am a size 18 pant and a size 12 or 14 top. My shoes are too big, and I now don't have to get the 12w but instead 12 or 11w, depending. I have blown through one pair of trainers. I received hand me downs from Christine and am wearing some of them. I have a wardrobe of pieces that work for now, and everything is compacted on one rod, not three. Thank god it's summer, because I will need new coats in the fall and winter. I do not wear loud clothes like I used to, but instead jeans and nice tops. My bra size is now 40B down from 48 C. My underwear size is down to 14-16-- I have no idea what that translates to outside of Lane Bryant.
5) Fashion and Shopping: I can shop at Kohl's in the non-plus department. I haven't yet tried out the other shops in the non-plus range, because I don't want to be disappointed. I like having a monochromatic wardrobe of black, white, green and pink. I still love the polka dots, but the wild and crazy makeup has gone. I can't remember the last time I wore red lipstick.
I purchased a beautiful sliver choker in Mexico. It fit perfectly around my neck. I couldn't believe it.
6) Hair: Some fell out. Not noticeable, but out it came and I remedied the situation with an awesome new cut. And upped the protein. And used the special shampoo.
7) Dating: Currently dating a kind and gentle and generous man. Previously dating a lot of men that were okay but not great. Dated more this year than ever. I think I might be in a relationship. He asked: Are you going to always eat like a bird, and I said yes. And it's true, I will.
8) Habits: Sleeping well. Saying what's there for me. Smoking again, but with the caveat that it stops before the next trip. Gym time-- never enough but more than ever. Still wearing sleeveless clothes regardless of the gobble gobble of my upper arms.
9) Celebrations: I look in the mirror and see the person I always saw. But I am no longer fooling myself with angles and whatnot. I look good in most pictures, I feel good about my body. I enjoy being active and walking a lot. As I ran to the train the other day with my 25 pound bag, I realized I was tired because I was lugging all that extra weight. My knees hurt, my feet hurt. And then realized that I have carried 120 pounds of that for a long time. Sometime I miss that, when I want to do destructive things like eat a pie or complete an entire meal. I miss that part of me. But then I can feel my hip bones. And my collar bones. And fit into clothing that was once never considered. And I can believe it when people say I look good and healthy and rested.
I spend less time worrying about what others think. I spend more time thinking about what I want.
Here are some stats.
Happy birthday to me. The best gift ever.
I remember waking up and quietly deciding. I began to tell friends, my family was almost all aware. I saw my mom go through a blossoming of sorts, becoming more active, more healthy, more vibrant. I wanted that.
Today is the beginning of 35. What has changed?
1) Travel: I pack less. Partially because I have less and partially because my clothes are smaller. I fit in airplane seats with the arm rest down. No extenders, except when I am bloated like the trip back from Chicago and I don't want anything toughing my tummy.
2) Meals: I still want the burger with all the fixings, or the entire meal. Last night I had a cup of coffee and 10 bites of a salmon, cream cheese omelette. I was full, but not to uncomfortable. I don't dump on sugar like I had anticipated, so I can have a bite of chocolate or sweet, but I don't need to.
3) Meals on the Road: I enjoy having soup. I enjoy eating yogurt. I don't drink juice or have more than 2 cocktails in a 6 hour period. The only bubbly thing I've had is flat diet coke with rum or jack and the glass of champagne at Cassie's wedding. I try to stick with not drinking and eating together. I have learned to experiment with food-- I eat appetizers and pull things apart. I have shucked more cheese sticks from their fried goodness than most people ever will, I have eaten the goo out of dumplings. I have yet to eat a bread sandwich-- I have had a crossaint but it took me two meals to eat the sandwich. I eat protein bars and lots of nuts and jerky.
4) Clothes: I am a size 18 pant and a size 12 or 14 top. My shoes are too big, and I now don't have to get the 12w but instead 12 or 11w, depending. I have blown through one pair of trainers. I received hand me downs from Christine and am wearing some of them. I have a wardrobe of pieces that work for now, and everything is compacted on one rod, not three. Thank god it's summer, because I will need new coats in the fall and winter. I do not wear loud clothes like I used to, but instead jeans and nice tops. My bra size is now 40B down from 48 C. My underwear size is down to 14-16-- I have no idea what that translates to outside of Lane Bryant.
5) Fashion and Shopping: I can shop at Kohl's in the non-plus department. I haven't yet tried out the other shops in the non-plus range, because I don't want to be disappointed. I like having a monochromatic wardrobe of black, white, green and pink. I still love the polka dots, but the wild and crazy makeup has gone. I can't remember the last time I wore red lipstick.
I purchased a beautiful sliver choker in Mexico. It fit perfectly around my neck. I couldn't believe it.
6) Hair: Some fell out. Not noticeable, but out it came and I remedied the situation with an awesome new cut. And upped the protein. And used the special shampoo.
7) Dating: Currently dating a kind and gentle and generous man. Previously dating a lot of men that were okay but not great. Dated more this year than ever. I think I might be in a relationship. He asked: Are you going to always eat like a bird, and I said yes. And it's true, I will.
8) Habits: Sleeping well. Saying what's there for me. Smoking again, but with the caveat that it stops before the next trip. Gym time-- never enough but more than ever. Still wearing sleeveless clothes regardless of the gobble gobble of my upper arms.
9) Celebrations: I look in the mirror and see the person I always saw. But I am no longer fooling myself with angles and whatnot. I look good in most pictures, I feel good about my body. I enjoy being active and walking a lot. As I ran to the train the other day with my 25 pound bag, I realized I was tired because I was lugging all that extra weight. My knees hurt, my feet hurt. And then realized that I have carried 120 pounds of that for a long time. Sometime I miss that, when I want to do destructive things like eat a pie or complete an entire meal. I miss that part of me. But then I can feel my hip bones. And my collar bones. And fit into clothing that was once never considered. And I can believe it when people say I look good and healthy and rested.
I spend less time worrying about what others think. I spend more time thinking about what I want.
Here are some stats.
| pre-diet 7/6/07 | 6/14/2008 | |
| Head | 24 | 23 |
| Neck | 18.75 | 15.5 |
| Shoulders | 22 | 16 |
| Right Upper | 19 | 15 |
| Right Lower | 14 | 12 |
| Rigth Wrist | 7.5 | 7 |
| Left Upper | 19 | 14.75 |
| Left Lower | 13 | 11 |
| Left Wrist | 7.5 | 7 |
| above bra | 48 | 40 |
| bust | 53.5 | 43 |
| below bust | 48 | 39 |
| waist | 50 | 41 |
| hips | 63 | 49 |
| Thighs | 58.5 | 51 |
| right thigh | 40 | 30 |
| right knee | 20 | 15.5 |
| right calf | 21.25 | 19 |
| right ankle | 11 | 9.5 |
| left thigh | 38.5 | 31 |
| left knee | 20.5 | 17 |
| left calf | 23.25 | 19.5 |
| left ankle | 11 | 10.25 |
| shoe | 12ww | 12/11w depending |
| weight | 385.1 | 267.1 |
Happy birthday to me. The best gift ever.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Ouch
On Tuesday, while in Chicago on business, I got the ouch. All of a sudden, my stomach was in pain, searing owwy, oww, oww pain. I thought "This is why I don't drink coffee and have an iron pill in the morning, I need more." So I had lunch. Four bites of salad and salmon and a bread stick, still owwww.
I went back and laid down for hours. Felt a little better. It's solid food that hurts. After a round at the surgeon's yesterday with a CT scan, nothing showed. Dinner last night was soup and then snack was chicken. Owww. This morning yogurt. No oww yet.
I'm going back in for an ultra-sound later today to see if it's gallstones. Yuck.
In better news, the man I am dating came over and we watched a movie and he just rubbed my head and shoulders. And we talked a lot. He is so nice, so good to me. I kept looking at him and saying "Where the fuck have you been?" because he is just so good to me. I never thought a relationship could start like this. So gentle and kind. He tames the wild side, the dramatic, and just wants to hold me.
Life is pretty good. Tomorrow is happy birthday to me. 80s have been replaced by the Beer Garden. Sometimes I get ahead of myself and want grandiose things.... but instead I get the coolest of the cool friends and lovely times with them. And kisses from a man who makes my toes tingle.
Ahh. Life is good.
I went back and laid down for hours. Felt a little better. It's solid food that hurts. After a round at the surgeon's yesterday with a CT scan, nothing showed. Dinner last night was soup and then snack was chicken. Owww. This morning yogurt. No oww yet.
I'm going back in for an ultra-sound later today to see if it's gallstones. Yuck.
In better news, the man I am dating came over and we watched a movie and he just rubbed my head and shoulders. And we talked a lot. He is so nice, so good to me. I kept looking at him and saying "Where the fuck have you been?" because he is just so good to me. I never thought a relationship could start like this. So gentle and kind. He tames the wild side, the dramatic, and just wants to hold me.
Life is pretty good. Tomorrow is happy birthday to me. 80s have been replaced by the Beer Garden. Sometimes I get ahead of myself and want grandiose things.... but instead I get the coolest of the cool friends and lovely times with them. And kisses from a man who makes my toes tingle.
Ahh. Life is good.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Good Decisions
Lately, I have been making good decisions:
1) Eating until satisfied, not full
2) Drinking lots of water or sports drinks with no calories (Costco brand is best!)
3) Meeting new people
4) Going to therapy
5) Working hours that work for me
6) Getting proper sleep
I met a man. It's going well. He's very very nice and simple and extremely kind. He likes me, and I like him.
He's a good decision. He stopped by yesterday just to hang out and watch a movie. We napped together. That's all, just napping. And it was really glorious.
I like this new life. A lot.
1) Eating until satisfied, not full
2) Drinking lots of water or sports drinks with no calories (Costco brand is best!)
3) Meeting new people
4) Going to therapy
5) Working hours that work for me
6) Getting proper sleep
I met a man. It's going well. He's very very nice and simple and extremely kind. He likes me, and I like him.
He's a good decision. He stopped by yesterday just to hang out and watch a movie. We napped together. That's all, just napping. And it was really glorious.
I like this new life. A lot.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Time Well Spent
This weekend I headed out to Ma and Pa's for a couple days of sun and relaxation. It was very nice to hang out with them. After the obligatory costco and kohl's runs, and a few trips to the grocery, mom made my favorite meal, el pollo. It's like the homemade version of El Pollo Loco chicken, grilled on the BBQ, lime marinade, and then guacamole, ranch beans (ummm, yumm!) homemade salsa and all the fixings for soft tacos.
I don't think I've had this meal since weightloss surgery. And it was still as yummy as ever. AND she made sugar free banana pudding for dessert. Double yum. Although I did get really sleepy after eating it, so dumping just a bit, but overall, A++.
Part of the reason to go home was to get ready for the giant 80's birthday bash I am having in two weekends. Why 80's you ask? Well, in an effort to clean out all the closets to make way for central air, mom and pop found piles of boxes in the room they call mine, and in there was a trip down memory lane. And a couple of prom dresses.
When I was in my senior year of high school, I was about a size 24. And at that time, no major retailer carried formal dresses in that size. Also, remember, I loved in Southern California, and above a size 10 was a hard sell. We didn't have the money for a dress to be made, but I figured mom and I would at some point head to the fabric store and get something that she could make for me. I used to go to the House of Fabrics and touch all the burned out velvet, sparkly taffeta, silks and satins and know she would do something extra ordinary with it. But the year of my senior prom she didn't need to.
Near to the house was a small boutique that had some interesting plus sized clothes, along with baby shoes, track pants, in essence, a general "I don't know what to do with this" store. One day after waiting for me at drama practice, she headed over to see if she could find something for herself (she never ever buys anything for herself) and found three gorgeous prom dresses in my size. Each, for $10! Yes, I said ten dollars. My mom being the wise woman, bought all three.
I chose the green one. It's poufy sleeved, with a couple of rosettes on the bodice, princess waist to a t-length skirt. And it had crinoline underneath. Although I didn't feel like a princess in it, I did feel very pretty, and went off to my prom. And forgot about the dress.
This weekend, I tried it on. It's 3 sizes too big. The poufy sleeves still hold their shape, the fabric didn't rip or stain. I may have to wear this for the party. I'm not sure, because I also found a pair of leopard print STIRRUP pants that I bought for my job at the LB in college. Yes, I wore stirrup pants, and owned the ugliest ones ever. Those too are a little big, but I think I have to break those out.
I realized that I wear clothes like a uniform. My peach and black flowered dress with the black leggings and combat boots was my "fancy" outfit in college, my multicolored gauze top with pink stirrup pants in high school was my "will he notice me". My striped ensembles and LB tops with jean shorts was 'hey, I'm big but sporty". For a while I was wearing costumes-- more on the "who do I want to be today" and would dress like a 50's pin-up (fishnets, kitten heels, party dress), a moody Parisian (black turtleneck, black pants, black flats), Donna Reed (full skirt, colored sweater and a neck scarf), or the all American (white oxford, rolled jeans, loafers). For not many choices, I had a lot of clothes and lots of outfits.
Losing weight has me realize that the clothes don't make the person. I did think that the louder I dressed, the more fashionable I was, the better/funnier/smarter I became. Depending on the outfit. When you lose your entire wardrobe over the course of 10 months, things shift.
Now, I am slowly building a wardrobe of classics. I still wear a lot of black, but with punches of color. I would like to be the woman that has a couple of great pieces, maybe one or two trendy things (gold lame top), shoes that are not always black. It's interesting and difficult to break away from what I am so used to wearing. I like to look professional and fun, a little bit flirty, but no longer hiding behind the outfit, or making a statement with my clothes.
I think I am giving up the costumes in my life. I don't have to be "wear the loudest thing you own" or show the little cleavage I have, or do the red lips everyday. I don't have to be a character or play a part. Finding out that I am more than just my clothes is a pretty big step in the right direction.
As a reminder to myself, I was one year ago wearing a size 30-32 top (or a stretch 26-28) and a 30 pant last year this time. And what size am I now? I'm wearing an XL top (or 1X depending) and an 20W or 18W pant.
This is smaller than I was upon entering high school.
No wonder I feel like returning to the 80s.
I don't think I've had this meal since weightloss surgery. And it was still as yummy as ever. AND she made sugar free banana pudding for dessert. Double yum. Although I did get really sleepy after eating it, so dumping just a bit, but overall, A++.
Part of the reason to go home was to get ready for the giant 80's birthday bash I am having in two weekends. Why 80's you ask? Well, in an effort to clean out all the closets to make way for central air, mom and pop found piles of boxes in the room they call mine, and in there was a trip down memory lane. And a couple of prom dresses.
When I was in my senior year of high school, I was about a size 24. And at that time, no major retailer carried formal dresses in that size. Also, remember, I loved in Southern California, and above a size 10 was a hard sell. We didn't have the money for a dress to be made, but I figured mom and I would at some point head to the fabric store and get something that she could make for me. I used to go to the House of Fabrics and touch all the burned out velvet, sparkly taffeta, silks and satins and know she would do something extra ordinary with it. But the year of my senior prom she didn't need to.
Near to the house was a small boutique that had some interesting plus sized clothes, along with baby shoes, track pants, in essence, a general "I don't know what to do with this" store. One day after waiting for me at drama practice, she headed over to see if she could find something for herself (she never ever buys anything for herself) and found three gorgeous prom dresses in my size. Each, for $10! Yes, I said ten dollars. My mom being the wise woman, bought all three.
I chose the green one. It's poufy sleeved, with a couple of rosettes on the bodice, princess waist to a t-length skirt. And it had crinoline underneath. Although I didn't feel like a princess in it, I did feel very pretty, and went off to my prom. And forgot about the dress.
This weekend, I tried it on. It's 3 sizes too big. The poufy sleeves still hold their shape, the fabric didn't rip or stain. I may have to wear this for the party. I'm not sure, because I also found a pair of leopard print STIRRUP pants that I bought for my job at the LB in college. Yes, I wore stirrup pants, and owned the ugliest ones ever. Those too are a little big, but I think I have to break those out.
I realized that I wear clothes like a uniform. My peach and black flowered dress with the black leggings and combat boots was my "fancy" outfit in college, my multicolored gauze top with pink stirrup pants in high school was my "will he notice me". My striped ensembles and LB tops with jean shorts was 'hey, I'm big but sporty". For a while I was wearing costumes-- more on the "who do I want to be today" and would dress like a 50's pin-up (fishnets, kitten heels, party dress), a moody Parisian (black turtleneck, black pants, black flats), Donna Reed (full skirt, colored sweater and a neck scarf), or the all American (white oxford, rolled jeans, loafers). For not many choices, I had a lot of clothes and lots of outfits.
Losing weight has me realize that the clothes don't make the person. I did think that the louder I dressed, the more fashionable I was, the better/funnier/smarter I became. Depending on the outfit. When you lose your entire wardrobe over the course of 10 months, things shift.
Now, I am slowly building a wardrobe of classics. I still wear a lot of black, but with punches of color. I would like to be the woman that has a couple of great pieces, maybe one or two trendy things (gold lame top), shoes that are not always black. It's interesting and difficult to break away from what I am so used to wearing. I like to look professional and fun, a little bit flirty, but no longer hiding behind the outfit, or making a statement with my clothes.
I think I am giving up the costumes in my life. I don't have to be "wear the loudest thing you own" or show the little cleavage I have, or do the red lips everyday. I don't have to be a character or play a part. Finding out that I am more than just my clothes is a pretty big step in the right direction.
As a reminder to myself, I was one year ago wearing a size 30-32 top (or a stretch 26-28) and a 30 pant last year this time. And what size am I now? I'm wearing an XL top (or 1X depending) and an 20W or 18W pant.
This is smaller than I was upon entering high school.
No wonder I feel like returning to the 80s.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Taking Care of myself
Sometimes I feel like I never really learned how to take care of myself. Like I am playing at being an adult. Paying bills, drinking cocktails, saying no when appropriate.
From an early age, i was taking care of myself, but never got schooled in the tools to do so. And then yesterday happened.
I received a text and then a call from an old friend. Not really old, but someone I used to be side by side with for months. I adored her, she was a good friend to me. Then things changed. I don't know if it was me or her, but things shifted. We had been working on a project together, and then the project ended, and we drifted. It was at the worst time of my life, I was out of work and needed a backboard to something else. Just something to hold on to. But she was no longer there.
Then a phone call out of the blue. I said everything that there was for me to say. I told her I was hurt by the drift apart, that I was in this conversation trying to figure out ways to protect myself. That I was no longer able to be friends with her. That I was no longer her buddy, and I wasn't being mean, but I needed her and she wasn't available. I told her I was trying to figure out what she needed from me in this conversation. Because she only calls when she needs something. She agreed that she was calling me for something, but that she thought everything was cool.
We parted on the phone, patched up to a degree. She texted me saying that she was sorry it took years for me to say these things, she had no idea, and if I ever need anything, that I could call. I responded that I didn't suppose I would call, but now would feel less like I had to protect myself, and thank you for giving me the space to do that.
I felt like I completely took care of myself. That I didn't back down, and I didn't have to be aggressive or mean. That I am in a new place, and this place is pretty incredible.
I may not have learned the tools early on, but I am a quick learn.
From an early age, i was taking care of myself, but never got schooled in the tools to do so. And then yesterday happened.
I received a text and then a call from an old friend. Not really old, but someone I used to be side by side with for months. I adored her, she was a good friend to me. Then things changed. I don't know if it was me or her, but things shifted. We had been working on a project together, and then the project ended, and we drifted. It was at the worst time of my life, I was out of work and needed a backboard to something else. Just something to hold on to. But she was no longer there.
Then a phone call out of the blue. I said everything that there was for me to say. I told her I was hurt by the drift apart, that I was in this conversation trying to figure out ways to protect myself. That I was no longer able to be friends with her. That I was no longer her buddy, and I wasn't being mean, but I needed her and she wasn't available. I told her I was trying to figure out what she needed from me in this conversation. Because she only calls when she needs something. She agreed that she was calling me for something, but that she thought everything was cool.
We parted on the phone, patched up to a degree. She texted me saying that she was sorry it took years for me to say these things, she had no idea, and if I ever need anything, that I could call. I responded that I didn't suppose I would call, but now would feel less like I had to protect myself, and thank you for giving me the space to do that.
I felt like I completely took care of myself. That I didn't back down, and I didn't have to be aggressive or mean. That I am in a new place, and this place is pretty incredible.
I may not have learned the tools early on, but I am a quick learn.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
About a year ago
I wrote a blog regarding everything I was apologizing for. For just being me.
Now I do a lot more apologizing, and don't have to dive into a bag of cookies. I am just being me, and loving me. I think I am way less serious, way less on the attack, waiting for the comment that will put me over the edge. I think I am a little more pleasant to be around. More light hearted.
I guess instead of apologizing, I take responsibility. Sometimes it feels like a cloud has been lifted.
Yesterday I went on a date with a very nice man. And not once did I think "What if he doesn't like me, he might think I don't look like my photos, that I am too fat, that I am not pretty enough, etc." And what came through instead was a great conversation without all the stuff. I got to be me. Funny, confident, pretty, loud, athletic and strong. He liked me. I liked him.
I like this new me a lot.
A year ago I had so many questions on what the next phase of my life would be. Now, I still question it, but instead of thinking what does the world have in store for me, I am thinking everything is possible, what do I want to show the world.
I have slip ups. I have fall downs. No one talks too much about the emotional stuff that comes up, or that depression does return-- and those food tools that I have used for so many years don't work anymore. When I eat four cookies and two cocktails at a party, I will get sick and check out. I don't want to check out anymore. I don't want to check out anymore.
Working at home is not a good idea for me. It gives me ample opportunity to lie on my couch and answer emails. I want to be with people and talking and working and creating something exciting. I know when I go to the dark place of the couch that I need to get up and start moving around.
Next month I will turn 35. Wow. And with that comes a big party. To celebrate the me that is here and now, and the me yet to come. How very Body Electric of me. Without the whiny voiced singer, but the big bold, beautiful voice of me.
I am proud of me today. I never thought life could be so open. Okay, it's not all sunshine and roses, but instead it's noticing the little blooms that are popping up all over, and that probably were always there, but now I can see.
Now I do a lot more apologizing, and don't have to dive into a bag of cookies. I am just being me, and loving me. I think I am way less serious, way less on the attack, waiting for the comment that will put me over the edge. I think I am a little more pleasant to be around. More light hearted.
I guess instead of apologizing, I take responsibility. Sometimes it feels like a cloud has been lifted.
Yesterday I went on a date with a very nice man. And not once did I think "What if he doesn't like me, he might think I don't look like my photos, that I am too fat, that I am not pretty enough, etc." And what came through instead was a great conversation without all the stuff. I got to be me. Funny, confident, pretty, loud, athletic and strong. He liked me. I liked him.
I like this new me a lot.
A year ago I had so many questions on what the next phase of my life would be. Now, I still question it, but instead of thinking what does the world have in store for me, I am thinking everything is possible, what do I want to show the world.
I have slip ups. I have fall downs. No one talks too much about the emotional stuff that comes up, or that depression does return-- and those food tools that I have used for so many years don't work anymore. When I eat four cookies and two cocktails at a party, I will get sick and check out. I don't want to check out anymore. I don't want to check out anymore.
Working at home is not a good idea for me. It gives me ample opportunity to lie on my couch and answer emails. I want to be with people and talking and working and creating something exciting. I know when I go to the dark place of the couch that I need to get up and start moving around.
Next month I will turn 35. Wow. And with that comes a big party. To celebrate the me that is here and now, and the me yet to come. How very Body Electric of me. Without the whiny voiced singer, but the big bold, beautiful voice of me.
I am proud of me today. I never thought life could be so open. Okay, it's not all sunshine and roses, but instead it's noticing the little blooms that are popping up all over, and that probably were always there, but now I can see.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Completeing May
It's a couple days early, but let me tell you what I have been up to this month.
I haven't seen the inside of a gym.
I haven't taken a new class at all at the unseen gym.
I have smoked every day from May 10 to now.
I have eaten carbs, sugar and lots of chocolate.
I know what's at the bottom of a Jack and diet coke. And it's usually another one.
I had my tooth pulled and look a little like a lopsided Brando.
Have a half a crown and a filling taken care of.
I have been drinking with almost all of my meals.
I ate ice cream and wow did I get sick.
I lost my bank card early in my trip to Mexico.
And the good news.
I traveled to NC to see family, even if for a short time.
I traveled to Mexico for a conference that went off, in my opinion, very well.
I walked the area of Polanco in Mexico City.
I did 2 3 mile walks in a span of a couple days.
Gardening-- YAY!
I had my house spit shined. By two hunky men. (Ladies, fantasies come true)
I've planned a couple dates and all looks promising.
I fit into a size 2 at LB jeans. And look fantastic.
I held my own against LatAm suitors.
I did not cry when I was left alone on the streets of Mexico.
I also wasn't kidnapped (yay me!)
Almost all bills are paid.
All my finances are in order (thank you lovely customer service goddess).
New bank card.
I had coffee over the phone in Mexico with a friend in NY. And it was awesome.
I've seen almost everyone I love and adore in NY over the last couple days and just felt loved.
What did I learn..... balance is key. Ask for what you want. Make the time. Go to bed early. Wake up early. Sometimes, last minute plans work out the best.
June brings birthday month. I love my birthday. I don't like getting gifts so much, unless they are superthoughtful, like creations. Except from my parents. I want a crock-pot. Don't try to build that one, pop.
I have been on a smoothie for breakfast kick recently. A little bit of detox goes a long way. This week, I will gym three times, or take super long walks. I will do that insane expense report. I will do my timesheets and make the travel plans for the next three trips. i will visit my folks and stock up at Costco and eat grilled meat from Pop's grill. I will love, and be loved.
And I will keep my house clean, mail sorted or shredded. Perhaps, I will get my ipod fixed so I don't have to hold the earphones that wonky way to hear in both ears.
I don't have to do anything but live. That's all.
Happy Memorial Day. Thank you to everyone who has given up their lives to make mine safe. Your memory is not forgotten. Thank you. I don't usually get political, but going off to fight for an ideology is what started this country, and I honor the tradition even if I don't always believe in it.
Peace.
I haven't seen the inside of a gym.
I haven't taken a new class at all at the unseen gym.
I have smoked every day from May 10 to now.
I have eaten carbs, sugar and lots of chocolate.
I know what's at the bottom of a Jack and diet coke. And it's usually another one.
I had my tooth pulled and look a little like a lopsided Brando.
Have a half a crown and a filling taken care of.
I have been drinking with almost all of my meals.
I ate ice cream and wow did I get sick.
I lost my bank card early in my trip to Mexico.
And the good news.
I traveled to NC to see family, even if for a short time.
I traveled to Mexico for a conference that went off, in my opinion, very well.
I walked the area of Polanco in Mexico City.
I did 2 3 mile walks in a span of a couple days.
Gardening-- YAY!
I had my house spit shined. By two hunky men. (Ladies, fantasies come true)
I've planned a couple dates and all looks promising.
I fit into a size 2 at LB jeans. And look fantastic.
I held my own against LatAm suitors.
I did not cry when I was left alone on the streets of Mexico.
I also wasn't kidnapped (yay me!)
Almost all bills are paid.
All my finances are in order (thank you lovely customer service goddess).
New bank card.
I had coffee over the phone in Mexico with a friend in NY. And it was awesome.
I've seen almost everyone I love and adore in NY over the last couple days and just felt loved.
What did I learn..... balance is key. Ask for what you want. Make the time. Go to bed early. Wake up early. Sometimes, last minute plans work out the best.
June brings birthday month. I love my birthday. I don't like getting gifts so much, unless they are superthoughtful, like creations. Except from my parents. I want a crock-pot. Don't try to build that one, pop.
I have been on a smoothie for breakfast kick recently. A little bit of detox goes a long way. This week, I will gym three times, or take super long walks. I will do that insane expense report. I will do my timesheets and make the travel plans for the next three trips. i will visit my folks and stock up at Costco and eat grilled meat from Pop's grill. I will love, and be loved.
And I will keep my house clean, mail sorted or shredded. Perhaps, I will get my ipod fixed so I don't have to hold the earphones that wonky way to hear in both ears.
I don't have to do anything but live. That's all.
Happy Memorial Day. Thank you to everyone who has given up their lives to make mine safe. Your memory is not forgotten. Thank you. I don't usually get political, but going off to fight for an ideology is what started this country, and I honor the tradition even if I don't always believe in it.
Peace.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Response to Myspace Postings
My very dear friend in CA posting something on Myspace that was a re-post of a large kid who almost falls out of a rollercoaster and then is pleading with an adult about the pain that they are in. It's obvious from the first moment that they are having fun, and then it turns uncomfortable-- the kid is jostled around and it looks really really scary. I would show the video, but I don't believe in laughing at it, quite honestly is makes me scared and a little sick and mad at the other person in the video isn't helping but rather laughing hysterically, even through "It hurts, I'm not joking!"
Here's my response to that. I meant to just write it to her, but unfortunately, I got carried away.
-----------------------------
I know you would never do anything to intentially hurt someone, but let me tell you a little about my own situation.
Prior to having weightloss surgery a year ago, and about 15 years before that, I wasn't able to ride the Collossis at Magic Mountain because the band wouldn't connect over my lap. I was mortified, in front of all my high shool friends, hoping that finally I was going to ride with the boy and hold his hand, I was told (but not with words) that I was too fat to ride the ride and had to walk off after waiting 2+ hours for the ride. And stand there, while all my skinny friends, my normal sized friends, and my chubby friends got to ride the ride. And watch as they pulled out of the gate saying "What happened?". And returned with big smiles on the ride of their life.
What happened was that I was too big for the ride. My stomach didn't allow the belt to clasp down properly, and although three technicians tried to put it down, it just wouldn't go. When the last tech came over and put his foot on my stomach where the bar wouldn't collapse into the lock to kick it in place, that was enough for me. He wanted to kick me in the stomach to make me fit.
Remember, I am an 18 year old girl. I am excited that maybe I might get to kiss the boy sitting next to me. That would be the best. Even better would be holding hands. Or smelling his sweat and Polo colgne mixed together on his skin. And this roadie comes and puts his dirty cotton Candy covered shoe on my belly, and I quietly say-- "No, No it's okay, it's okay, I'll get off."
I climb over the potential boyfriend with tears fiercely held back in my eyes and say-- "it's no big deal, I'll do it another time, I am really scared anyways." I wait as they lock him into place, and everyone takes off in a swoosh. I stand there and hate myself. Really hate myself because now I have proof that I am not the same, that I am different. That I am something to be laughed at, to be scorned.
I have not ridden or attempted to ride a roller coaster since then. I'm not sure I every will. But for every person that laughs at the fat kid-- know that there is fear, shame and self hatred behind those eyes, and behind those tears. That kid I am certain thought they were going to die. Because they were fat. Because they slipped. Because they were trying to be the same as everyone else and were reminded again "You are not the same. You are different."
Because no matter how many people laugh at your jokes, no matter how many people talk about your great personality and your beautiful hair and so on and so on, you will underneath it all be the kid that isn't the same as everyone else.
I know you didn't mean to do anything but share a really funny video, it just hit me in such a way that I had to share this.
I still adore you. :) Maybe you'll repost this instead.
Kim
Here's my response to that. I meant to just write it to her, but unfortunately, I got carried away.
-----------------------------
I know you would never do anything to intentially hurt someone, but let me tell you a little about my own situation.
Prior to having weightloss surgery a year ago, and about 15 years before that, I wasn't able to ride the Collossis at Magic Mountain because the band wouldn't connect over my lap. I was mortified, in front of all my high shool friends, hoping that finally I was going to ride with the boy and hold his hand, I was told (but not with words) that I was too fat to ride the ride and had to walk off after waiting 2+ hours for the ride. And stand there, while all my skinny friends, my normal sized friends, and my chubby friends got to ride the ride. And watch as they pulled out of the gate saying "What happened?". And returned with big smiles on the ride of their life.
What happened was that I was too big for the ride. My stomach didn't allow the belt to clasp down properly, and although three technicians tried to put it down, it just wouldn't go. When the last tech came over and put his foot on my stomach where the bar wouldn't collapse into the lock to kick it in place, that was enough for me. He wanted to kick me in the stomach to make me fit.
Remember, I am an 18 year old girl. I am excited that maybe I might get to kiss the boy sitting next to me. That would be the best. Even better would be holding hands. Or smelling his sweat and Polo colgne mixed together on his skin. And this roadie comes and puts his dirty cotton Candy covered shoe on my belly, and I quietly say-- "No, No it's okay, it's okay, I'll get off."
I climb over the potential boyfriend with tears fiercely held back in my eyes and say-- "it's no big deal, I'll do it another time, I am really scared anyways." I wait as they lock him into place, and everyone takes off in a swoosh. I stand there and hate myself. Really hate myself because now I have proof that I am not the same, that I am different. That I am something to be laughed at, to be scorned.
I have not ridden or attempted to ride a roller coaster since then. I'm not sure I every will. But for every person that laughs at the fat kid-- know that there is fear, shame and self hatred behind those eyes, and behind those tears. That kid I am certain thought they were going to die. Because they were fat. Because they slipped. Because they were trying to be the same as everyone else and were reminded again "You are not the same. You are different."
Because no matter how many people laugh at your jokes, no matter how many people talk about your great personality and your beautiful hair and so on and so on, you will underneath it all be the kid that isn't the same as everyone else.
I know you didn't mean to do anything but share a really funny video, it just hit me in such a way that I had to share this.
I still adore you. :) Maybe you'll repost this instead.
Kim
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Two down
And a lot to go.....
Most of you who know me outside the cyber realm know I adore my job. And that I travel a lot. I mean, a lot. I get text messages, emails, phone calls "Where are you these days, when are you coming home....".
So I am home. For a little bit. Two down, six more to go. I feel like I ran a sprint at the start of a marathon, and now need to sit down.
Umm, where did May go? No really? Because it's Memorial day weekend this weekend, and I don't have plans, and I need plans. I need to be sitting at a barbecue, talking smack with friends, or headed to the beach, or doing something just as interesting and cool with people I love.
Also, be warned. It is my 35th birthday in less than a month. I am thinking I need to have one of those big parties. Perhaps even themed. My mom gave me a great idea this morning, and I think I need to make it happen. Now, it's just about finding the location and sending out the invites...... I'll keep you posted.
Mexico was great. I love my adopted family down there. I danced until all hours of the night, talked, drank, and even got in some exercise. I went swimming twice-- how lucky am I?
PS: My life is pretty awesome. My job is pretty awesome. I am so happy to be back home.
Most of you who know me outside the cyber realm know I adore my job. And that I travel a lot. I mean, a lot. I get text messages, emails, phone calls "Where are you these days, when are you coming home....".
So I am home. For a little bit. Two down, six more to go. I feel like I ran a sprint at the start of a marathon, and now need to sit down.
Umm, where did May go? No really? Because it's Memorial day weekend this weekend, and I don't have plans, and I need plans. I need to be sitting at a barbecue, talking smack with friends, or headed to the beach, or doing something just as interesting and cool with people I love.
Also, be warned. It is my 35th birthday in less than a month. I am thinking I need to have one of those big parties. Perhaps even themed. My mom gave me a great idea this morning, and I think I need to make it happen. Now, it's just about finding the location and sending out the invites...... I'll keep you posted.
Mexico was great. I love my adopted family down there. I danced until all hours of the night, talked, drank, and even got in some exercise. I went swimming twice-- how lucky am I?
PS: My life is pretty awesome. My job is pretty awesome. I am so happy to be back home.
Friday, May 09, 2008
NOTICE (me)
Okay, so um, wow.
After all, I am not going private. I worked through the issues, talked to some friends and advisers, and mainly stopped being a baby.
But I had NO IDEA that so many people read my blog. Really, no idea. I thought I had a couple friends plus some former sassy sisters. Maybe 2-6 people. And then the occasional person who found it through the web-ring. But it was way more than that. Some of you I don't know at all, some I have been sharing couches, vacations and spotlights with for years. So it is kind of strange.
Wow. The love, the attention, well it feels like.... unsettling and beautiful--very cool. A wise woman gave me a plaque-- the whole world is waiting to hear your story-- and apparently there is an audience for it.
Interesting.
So, not going private. Thank you for the love. I needed it.
Back to regularly scheduled snarkiness.
After all, I am not going private. I worked through the issues, talked to some friends and advisers, and mainly stopped being a baby.
But I had NO IDEA that so many people read my blog. Really, no idea. I thought I had a couple friends plus some former sassy sisters. Maybe 2-6 people. And then the occasional person who found it through the web-ring. But it was way more than that. Some of you I don't know at all, some I have been sharing couches, vacations and spotlights with for years. So it is kind of strange.
Wow. The love, the attention, well it feels like.... unsettling and beautiful--very cool. A wise woman gave me a plaque-- the whole world is waiting to hear your story-- and apparently there is an audience for it.
Interesting.
So, not going private. Thank you for the love. I needed it.
Back to regularly scheduled snarkiness.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
When I say Ouch you say it Feels like Love
Issues. Beyond My Control.
So what does that mean? Because as my very wise boss said to me (well actually purchased the words on a coffee cup that I drink two to twelve cups of coffee a day from) "In my mind I can control everything". So I should be able to control this.
I cannot control others actions, nor can I control the outcome. I can only have a say in my response to actions and outcomes. How very therapy of me.
Over the weekend I went to visit family. It didn't go well. I mean it went as well as it could go, given that I am exhausted from work, a big sacrament for a little kid who would rather be running around in the backyard or playing video games and all the attention that goes with it, an earlier event of a baseball game, a massive housecleaning, a dance recital and two massive room cleanings (I never knew a 7 year old could be that disgusting), men in the family who communicate with grunts and aggressive driving, family members (this includes me) that get hurt feelings over things that are usually easier swept under rugs and stuff. Given that three out of seven adults in the last 2 years have had WLS in this part of my family and we are all very very sensitive, very very prickly and all of us are trying to figure out how to deal with emotions without completely breaking apart and eating a ham--or conversely trying to build armies against one another for perceived slights that really just come from "there's a whole lotta family in my house in my house"-- things went better than expected. No one killed anyone else. There was no kid taping to roofs of cars and no jousting with flaming fishing poles. No ham was hurt in the process. Just a lot of fried chicken and an onion dip. Poor dip.
I got on a plane a whole day before scheduled and came back to NYC and slept in my own bed and nursed a cold (which by the way, I am still nursing) and took TWO days off this week and slept. Because I got overwhelmed and cried and paid way too much money to get back a day early. Because I hate to see my family torn apart again and again and truly, I don't want to be in the middle, get put in the middle, or split my time. For too many years I have been traveling to spend time with my family and having to take two vacations, or stay at one and visit another. And It. Fucking. Sucks. I am an adult, and I ran away as fast as I could. Because I refuse to be emotionally manipulated. No. Fucking. More.
In a very adult conversation with my dad, I said "My plane leaves at 11:25." He said "I'll take you to the airport." It was the nicest thing that anyone said to me all damn day.
If you have the type of family that when you leave you say "I can't wait to see you again" then count yourself lucky. I used to. I don't exactly know where it went wrong. I still feel guilty for being selfish and not sucking it up and staying. However I refuse to let someone else's needs or wants come before my own. I have a really hard time in causing someone else's disappointment. Because I want to be the girl that smooths everything over, rounds out all the edges, sucks it up and plays nice.
I don't have to anymore. It's me time. Not you time. I'm not crazy, I just don't like being scared, manipulated, threatened or having any of my family scared, manipulated or threatened.
So, there are the issues beyond my control. I was going to go private and explain it, but with some clarity I realize that I am out there, warts and all to read. My life can only be used as leverage to another if I am not open about it. So there I am, being all open about it. I think I have been judicious and fair, and if not, write your own damn blog about it.
Cause this one's mine.
So what does that mean? Because as my very wise boss said to me (well actually purchased the words on a coffee cup that I drink two to twelve cups of coffee a day from) "In my mind I can control everything". So I should be able to control this.
I cannot control others actions, nor can I control the outcome. I can only have a say in my response to actions and outcomes. How very therapy of me.
Over the weekend I went to visit family. It didn't go well. I mean it went as well as it could go, given that I am exhausted from work, a big sacrament for a little kid who would rather be running around in the backyard or playing video games and all the attention that goes with it, an earlier event of a baseball game, a massive housecleaning, a dance recital and two massive room cleanings (I never knew a 7 year old could be that disgusting), men in the family who communicate with grunts and aggressive driving, family members (this includes me) that get hurt feelings over things that are usually easier swept under rugs and stuff. Given that three out of seven adults in the last 2 years have had WLS in this part of my family and we are all very very sensitive, very very prickly and all of us are trying to figure out how to deal with emotions without completely breaking apart and eating a ham--or conversely trying to build armies against one another for perceived slights that really just come from "there's a whole lotta family in my house in my house"-- things went better than expected. No one killed anyone else. There was no kid taping to roofs of cars and no jousting with flaming fishing poles. No ham was hurt in the process. Just a lot of fried chicken and an onion dip. Poor dip.
I got on a plane a whole day before scheduled and came back to NYC and slept in my own bed and nursed a cold (which by the way, I am still nursing) and took TWO days off this week and slept. Because I got overwhelmed and cried and paid way too much money to get back a day early. Because I hate to see my family torn apart again and again and truly, I don't want to be in the middle, get put in the middle, or split my time. For too many years I have been traveling to spend time with my family and having to take two vacations, or stay at one and visit another. And It. Fucking. Sucks. I am an adult, and I ran away as fast as I could. Because I refuse to be emotionally manipulated. No. Fucking. More.
In a very adult conversation with my dad, I said "My plane leaves at 11:25." He said "I'll take you to the airport." It was the nicest thing that anyone said to me all damn day.
If you have the type of family that when you leave you say "I can't wait to see you again" then count yourself lucky. I used to. I don't exactly know where it went wrong. I still feel guilty for being selfish and not sucking it up and staying. However I refuse to let someone else's needs or wants come before my own. I have a really hard time in causing someone else's disappointment. Because I want to be the girl that smooths everything over, rounds out all the edges, sucks it up and plays nice.
I don't have to anymore. It's me time. Not you time. I'm not crazy, I just don't like being scared, manipulated, threatened or having any of my family scared, manipulated or threatened.
So, there are the issues beyond my control. I was going to go private and explain it, but with some clarity I realize that I am out there, warts and all to read. My life can only be used as leverage to another if I am not open about it. So there I am, being all open about it. I think I have been judicious and fair, and if not, write your own damn blog about it.
Cause this one's mine.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Two months
I haven't lost anything in two months. At least that what the scale says. The scale tells me that over the course of two months I have fluctuated between the same 7 pounds. So let's take a look at what I am doing.....
1) Discovered alcohol. I can have 1-2 Jack and diets in the course of an evening out. Or a half a glass of wine. Or a stoli orange and tonic, or twelve. Umm, no no no.
2) Cheese. Why must I love you so much? Full-fat, gloriously creamy, eaten with apples, on top of.....
3) Crackers. Stop with the crackers. I mean it. Stop.
4) Chocolate. Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Really Chocolate. You mean I can eat it and not get violently ill? Whole bars over the course of a day and just feel like I am having flu like symptoms? And it goes away after a lie down? And it tastes like love?
5) Drinking and eating . Just a little sip. After that last bite. Just like it was when I was pushing down down down my emotions with fast food.
So there you have it. I am ashamed. In my golden period, working out a good 2-3 times a week, getting compliments all over the place, and still morbidly obese. Still doing the same things I have always been doing. And struggling with the food demons. Still at the same weight for two months.
Wait for it..... wait for it.... I've got the broken bypass.
"Fear is at the root of my inability to choose." Again with the little white book, your words of wisdom are piercing. I spend my life in "Maybe's, perhaps and We'll sees". Left dangling without direction. Waiting for the future to tell me what to do. What if I took on something extra-ordinary. If I become that extra-ordinary person. So here is my plan for one month.
1) 1 new class per week. This is going to be difficult because I am going to Mexico on Saturday, so I'll have to go a class in Spanish. Wonder how you say "downward facing dog" in Spanish?
2) 3 meals a day. Planned. No desserts. 1 snack per day. 2 Nalgenes of water per day. Again, this will be difficult in Mexico.
3) Cut the coffee to two cups.
4) Something spiritual. Reconnect with spirit-- walking meditations, church, alone time, writing in my journal. Something.
5) During the conference, no more than 2 cocktails a night. Sleep well, get 8 hours when I can.
6) Work and Life Balance: Work starts at 9:30 am, and I go home at 6:30 pm. While in NYC.
I completed April. My challenge had me learn that for as unreasonable as I try to be, there is always room for more. And that I make myself wrong for not doing it perfectly. All the time, not perfect. It's all a part of the journey, while I keep looking for the destination.
Learning to let go is easy. The letting go part is hard.
1) Discovered alcohol. I can have 1-2 Jack and diets in the course of an evening out. Or a half a glass of wine. Or a stoli orange and tonic, or twelve. Umm, no no no.
2) Cheese. Why must I love you so much? Full-fat, gloriously creamy, eaten with apples, on top of.....
3) Crackers. Stop with the crackers. I mean it. Stop.
4) Chocolate. Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Really Chocolate. You mean I can eat it and not get violently ill? Whole bars over the course of a day and just feel like I am having flu like symptoms? And it goes away after a lie down? And it tastes like love?
5) Drinking and eating . Just a little sip. After that last bite. Just like it was when I was pushing down down down my emotions with fast food.
So there you have it. I am ashamed. In my golden period, working out a good 2-3 times a week, getting compliments all over the place, and still morbidly obese. Still doing the same things I have always been doing. And struggling with the food demons. Still at the same weight for two months.
Wait for it..... wait for it.... I've got the broken bypass.
"Fear is at the root of my inability to choose." Again with the little white book, your words of wisdom are piercing. I spend my life in "Maybe's, perhaps and We'll sees". Left dangling without direction. Waiting for the future to tell me what to do. What if I took on something extra-ordinary. If I become that extra-ordinary person. So here is my plan for one month.
1) 1 new class per week. This is going to be difficult because I am going to Mexico on Saturday, so I'll have to go a class in Spanish. Wonder how you say "downward facing dog" in Spanish?
2) 3 meals a day. Planned. No desserts. 1 snack per day. 2 Nalgenes of water per day. Again, this will be difficult in Mexico.
3) Cut the coffee to two cups.
4) Something spiritual. Reconnect with spirit-- walking meditations, church, alone time, writing in my journal. Something.
5) During the conference, no more than 2 cocktails a night. Sleep well, get 8 hours when I can.
6) Work and Life Balance: Work starts at 9:30 am, and I go home at 6:30 pm. While in NYC.
I completed April. My challenge had me learn that for as unreasonable as I try to be, there is always room for more. And that I make myself wrong for not doing it perfectly. All the time, not perfect. It's all a part of the journey, while I keep looking for the destination.
Learning to let go is easy. The letting go part is hard.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
NOTICE
If you are a regular reader, please send me your email address by leaving a comment (which I won't post). I am going to go private with this blog because of circumstances beyond my control, and I would like to keep you as a part of my journey.
Sorry for any confusion.
You all have until Saturday May 10.
Thanks.
Sorry for any confusion.
You all have until Saturday May 10.
Thanks.
Completing April
Tonight I am headed to a friend's house to complete April. To kiss it goodbye. More updates on that later-- I wonder what I will get out of it.
Over the weekend I had what I consider to be a cathartic experience. I have been exhausted for so long, I was in NC and then I wasn't. I disappointed my family by leaving early, but I can't live my life for them. I have to do for me. It's upsetting because I only get there every now and again, but it was the best thing for me to do. I woke up in my own bed relaxed, I made good food I can eat, I went for a really long walk and saw a stupid movie.
I am still tired, but I am not so tired I want to cry all the time. I feel like I am doing okay as I prepare for the next trip. This one will be as difficult, but also twice as fun because it includes so many of my favorite people. And then back to NYC to sit and rest for a long while.
I woke up thinking about this: I will no longer be emotionally manipulated by the agendas of others. Tis true. No more manipulation. No more agendas. This is what you get. My mom really wanted me to stay. My aunt was disappointed in my leaving. My pop understood. I just can't suck it up anymore to make someone else happy. Me first. With no apologies.
Over the weekend I had what I consider to be a cathartic experience. I have been exhausted for so long, I was in NC and then I wasn't. I disappointed my family by leaving early, but I can't live my life for them. I have to do for me. It's upsetting because I only get there every now and again, but it was the best thing for me to do. I woke up in my own bed relaxed, I made good food I can eat, I went for a really long walk and saw a stupid movie.
I am still tired, but I am not so tired I want to cry all the time. I feel like I am doing okay as I prepare for the next trip. This one will be as difficult, but also twice as fun because it includes so many of my favorite people. And then back to NYC to sit and rest for a long while.
I woke up thinking about this: I will no longer be emotionally manipulated by the agendas of others. Tis true. No more manipulation. No more agendas. This is what you get. My mom really wanted me to stay. My aunt was disappointed in my leaving. My pop understood. I just can't suck it up anymore to make someone else happy. Me first. With no apologies.
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