Big Girl in a Big City

Life and Junk and Stuff

2011-07-01T07:04:00.002-04:00

It's interesting how life changes. And so quickly too!

Today, 7 months pregnant. With another little big girl in a big city. Feeling incredibly healthy, albeit tired and a bit cranky, but in love.

In love with this new life I've created. James and I are stupidly and happily married and nesting, we may not always see eye to eye on everything, but we work through it together. Getting ready for our little girl to make her way into the world.

Life ain't bad.

Life changed

2010-11-20T07:05:00.002-05:00

Married.

Yup, married.

10.30.10 in a beautiful church in Long Island, we said I do to each other and to living our lives together. Forever.

I realize so many things along the way.... who I am vs. who I was. I finally feel like I am living the life I was meant to live. I am healthy, I am happy (because, c'mon people, it's a choice), I am employed (full time as of June 1), and my family grew all in one day-- just by saying I do, I now have 34 new family members with brothers, sisters, neices and nephews.

The wedding was glorious. Every day should be so smooth.

One thing I realized is how important it is to blog. TO let people in on my life. For the two years I was consistent with writing, when I was going through the weight loss and the start of a new life, I was connected. I was able to be open and honest with everything that was going on. Now, I like to keep the truly special moments private. Between me and my beloved. I want the connection to him, but realize that others may need to know how to transition from "omigod I am losing weight/hair/ sizes/ friends" to "this tool is awesome and sometimes I use it for evil and not good".

People need to know about what happens year 3-7, when life happens and isn't all about the weightloss/ plastic surgery/ nasty protein shakes/ gym routines. When life takes on a new path, with new jobs, new living arrangements, new additions (god willing) and new habits.

I haven't quite decided what to do. This blog will always stay up. For newer folks, look back in June of 2007 and then go forward. That is the start of the journey, mind and body becoming more svelte. All the worries. All the questions. All the stuff that goes along with being a patient with no patience. Then see how life changes. Because life does come back, and you realize that you have had a great gift bestowed on you to make changes that will impact the rest of your life. But it happens slower, more fluid.

I'll post again. I'll write again, and will invite you along for the journey. It might not be for a while, and I am not entirely certain how, but I know I want to capture all that is rattling around in my brain.

I've missed you Big Girl, Big City. You were a very good friend and I've abandoned you. Although, still a big girl, I also realize I am much more than that. Big city, soon to leave but always close by. Thank you for being me, but I've come to realize you too were a persona. The me that is real underneath it all is quite sensitive, calm and is very very happy to not be travelling the world. Who loves coming home, cooking dinner, and spending the evening just getting house stuff done. Who is in love with someone who loves her more than she ever thought possible. Who is thinking of a future that is somewhat pickett fence crossed with intellectual pursuits.

I've also missed my connection to the community. My new job hasn't allowed for much surfing, so I've just recently started looking at old friends sites. I've always been a bit of a lurker...... so watch out.

Love--

Kim

What's Going On?

2010-05-07T07:04:00.003-04:00

Hi there.

Remember me? Yeah, I'm the loud funny one in the back of the room that's been quiet for a while.

Here's a short update:

1) Plateau. Up and down. Hovering around a 110-120 pound weight loss
2) Beating myself up for it, should be more, should be more.
2a) Pursuant to 2-- Started enjoying way too much of the red vino.
3) Gain of 10 pounds.
4) PANIC.
5) Found and started new contract position paying almost a lot more than last position and make the exact same amount in a week on unemployment as I do in a day.
6) Red Vino, still bad.
7) Oh, quit smoking cold turkey.
8) Lost 9 pounds on Weight Watchers.
9) Still going to WW-- and to be honest, learning how to eat. How to be responsible with my food and track it all.
10) Going back to exercise as stress relief. This is an in progress. I haven't quite figured out a time that will work and so I keep plugging away.
11) Stopped blogging-- no reason. Also stopped Facebooking, emailing, myspacing and any other social media.

So there it is. 2+ years out of surgery and now is when I have to begin to use my pouch as a tool, not a crutch. When I have to make the choices to say yes to things that work for me-- protein-- and no to things that don't -- rice, bottles of wine, etc.

Small changes every day are making a difference. Saying no to the Thursday morning bagel and yes to hard boiled eggs seems to be working. Saying yes to fruit and no to massive amounts of bread feels good. My folks are on WW as well. My pop has lost 35 pounds, my mom has dropped about 20, James has lost 25, and me, well, I've lost 9. I could really beat myself up for it, but that just gets old.

I'm celebrating the victory of being a non-smoker. I'm celebrating the victory of being able to fit into clothes I have had for over two years. And I am celebrating the victory of being on the journey with eyes open. Because I could be committed to the struggle the drama the chaos. But instead, i'll be addicted to the changes to my life.

There is no finish line. Well, unless you count the big giant one in the sky. But even then, no not really.

Happy Day, Every Day

2010-03-02T08:55:00.003-05:00

Today is Dr. Seuss' birthday. For a man that loved the extraordinary and looking at life through an upside down telescope, I re-type my favorite quote of all time.

"You know when you are in love
when you can't fall asleep
because reality is finally better than your dreams."

Ahh. I love that. Years ago I was desperately in love with a man who had no idea who I was. And I would write him poems and love songs, of course never actually presenting them to him, but writing them nonetheless. And in one of the poems I wrote about "falling asleep so we can be together" because I knew that the only place he and I would be together would be in my dreams.

The nice thing about unrequited love is that it has the same kind of emotional consistency as a spider bite. Some are allergic, and wow, there's lots of drama and wound tending and healing happening. It hurts, it's annoying, you garner sympathy for your sick state, and it seems like it will never heal. For others, it's a nasty little bump that itches and scabs over, and one day when you are out busy living your life, you remember that you have a spider bite and go looking for it, and it's no longer there. Or maybe it was on the other arm. Or perhaps it was just an ingrown hair. And you move on with your day, with that bite a faint memory.

I've had lots of spider bites in my time. Mostly just little annoying things that I get over when I am out living my life and decide to get up on any certain day and face reality. That this relationship isn't going anywhere, and although it's not made up in my head, it isn't what I have in my head-- it's more like a very close friendship that at times is awkwardly romantic, sexual, inappropriate, etc. Then I just stop obsessing or whatever I am doing (listening to ELO, watching Big Love, reading everything on astral projection, or any such nonsense that reminds me of said target of unrequited-ness). And I go out and live my life.

At some point after WLS I decided that I didn't want to let this time go by without sharing it with someone. I had spent a ton of time in reflection, by myself, in awesome hotels rooms around the world without anyone to call. Or text. Or even think of. For so long I kept that weight as a way to keep me away from people, a blanket of "go away" along with a smoke-screen of "no really, get out of here"-- all the while hoping that someone would see this rough diamond and call me his own.

So WLS ripped part of my blanket away, and I got out there and dated. And decided that being alone wasn't an option-- I wanted someone to share my life with. The good, the ugly, the confusing, the snotting and crying, the past the present and most definitely the future. I dated a couple different men, and although interesting, no connection that would be considered more than a spider bite.

Not that James was a knight in shining armor. I mean, let's face it-- he was in his mid-thirties, still living with his folks (and two younger brothers) and had worked at the same place his whole life. He had only traveled to Canada (before passports were necessary), thinks an expensive meal includes a beer that is more than $6.50, owns two suits, one pair of khakis, 18 pairs of light colored jeans, 4 pairs of white sneakers and one pair of big boy dress shoes that are a little uncomfortable. He can never explain what it is I do, even though I tell him all the time, and he is quiet and reserved to my loud and "hi, who are you".

Not a spider bite.

I'm not really sure where I am going with this post other than to proclaim that I have a really hard time falling asleep, because reality is better than my dreams. But I sleep best nuzzled in together with James, and I wake up best next to him.

And, thank you Dr. Seuss.

Almost a year

2010-02-02T12:11:00.002-05:00

It's been almost a year since I was laid off.

I am having some sad days. Thinking about the grief I did not let myself feel, and then felt for months.

I spend a lot of time indoors, I mostly don't leave the apartment. Except to go to the grocery or the gym. The weekends are better, James is around and I love him so very much.

Life will get better, this I know. My life is more than losing weight, writing about losing weight, finding a job, writing about finding a job. I know it's just so much more than that.

I am totally going to have a pity party today. I deserve it. And then, gym tonight, work it out hard, then tomorrow face the day that my work life came to a sudden and abrupt halt. And I know things will get better. But for today, pity party. I may even watch terms of endearment or something equally as sad and tearful.

Just going to let out the tears, let out the sad, get mad, break something, feel the rage and then breathe through it.

Almost a year. My how life has changed.

A month between postings

2010-01-18T09:45:00.002-05:00

This past month has been ups and downs. First the downs:

1) Still unemployed: it will be 1 year Feb 3.
2) Weight goes up and down in the 5-10 pound range. I am no longer WLS losing. I am now on the lifetime plan of losing and maintaining a loss of about 120 pounds. I would like to lose about 70 more pounds.
3) Serious indication of red-wine transfer addiction.
4) Smoking now. Had quit for over a month, and then right back.

Ups:
1) James proposed on Christmas with my grandma's wedding ring. I said yes.
2) Doing weight watchers with James. Now there is a bit of an end date in sight, and we collectively lost 8 pounds this week. We feel good. We have a winning outcome.
3) Created a vision and mission statement for my life. It was like a weight was lifted off me-- I now know what it is that I want to create in the world, and how I can accomplish it.
4) Re-energized on the job front.
5) Connecting with the spiritual side o f me. I love it.
6) Becoming a non-smoker by week's end.
7) Cobra paid for (thanks Obama) for another couple months. YAY!!!
8) Clean house, due to party on the 2nd. We threw out stuff and donated stuff and felt really really good about it.
9) Trusting in the man upstairs and myself. It has created a lot of peace.
10) Drinking much less. Red wine is not allowed in the house (if it's here, it will be GONE in a matter of hours). Since Jan 2 have had three glasses. Rather than the bottle a night.

As you can see, many more ups than downs. Yay me, I come out ahead.

As James and I were doing laundry last night, I realized something so important. This past year I have connected to so many people from a heart space, asking for what I need, not necessarily what I want. I have made decisions and choices that have given me time to understand my actions of past years. I've learned so many things about myself.

1) I am a great cook. I love to food shop and create wholesome meals.
2) I don't mind doing laundry, I just hate folding at the laundromat. So now, we bring it home and fold.
3) I have spent a lot of time connecting to James, my folks, my family and friends. All things I couldn't have done if I had that job where I traveled all the time.
4) There is a certain amount of peace in daydreaming, slowing down the pace of life, and being a good person. I had my priorities in making money, spending money, and talking about all the far-off places I've been.
5) I have so many great stories. I am working on the outlet to make them into something-- writing, art, movies, handbooks, poems, etc. I'm not committing to one thing, it's all and nothing at the same time.
6) I've missed out singing with the radio. At some point I got really serious. And now, my serious has given way to silly.
7) I can easily be swayed by opinion. Now I stay with mine, and there is no swaying.

I've got a wedding to plan for the fall. So far, so good.

I'm not sure how often I'll post. I've used this blog to get rid of so many demons per and post surgery. Now I am just Kim-- not fat kim, not skinny Kim, just Kim. If I never lose another pound, can I chose happiness? I think so.

WLS is a struggle. First with insurance and doctors and whatnot. Then struggling with yourself and feelings. Then with the "it's never enough" stuff that comes up. All I have is right now. And right now I want things to change, so I'll make small changes (no red wine, one special treat a week, take care of myself through exercise, no sodium Saturdays) not sweeping changes. And perhaps, just perhaps, one small change will make a difference.

I think back to when James and I met. I was a little burned from the last guy I was with, took a couple months off, and then just started looking again. I dated anyone that looked interesting, saying to myself a date is just that-- a meeting with someone to determine if you want to get to know them more. Not a big deal, just a meeting. When we met, we were relaxed with each other, and got to get to know each other. Neither one was looking to hook up, just talk over coffee and brunch. And that's what we did.

That little change-- from "is he the one" to "do I want to get to know him more" made the difference.
So if that's true-- with my health and fitness and weight I can go from "it's not enough" to "what will make me happy three hours from now". Sometimes it's sleep, sometimes it's a walk, sometimes it's eating a great lunch with protein and veggies. It's usually not a donut or ice cream or a pizza or sitting on the couch watching Law and Order. But it might be on some days.

Having this surgery made me realize that I crave gentleness in my life. I want to treat myself like I treat others, with kindness, respect, generosity, giving them the benefit of the doubt, and inspiration. Journey not desitnation. Long haul, not a sprint. Living in the present, accepting the past, and creating a new future.

Happy 2010. Begin again.

A calling

2009-12-13T13:07:00.003-05:00

Last weekend James drove me up to Kripalu-- a retreat center. For two days I did yoga, went inward, quit smoking, ceased drinking, and learned about being resilient and answering my calling.

A calling, what is that?

Looking at my life I have had many mile markers along the way of who I am at my core. There have been friends that are no longer in my life that have pushed me into recognizing my gifts and talents. There are friends now that acknowledge my greatness and just want the best for me. I have a ton of people to support me, even though I have been feeling I just don't know what it is I want to ask for. There are things that I have always been attracted to that give me some direction on who I am at the center of myself.

Losing a job, most specifically this one, was and is devastating. And then to move into a space of 'I'll show them' and begin to look for something without taking any time to reflect was not a good idea. At all. And then spending spurts and fits of trying to distinguish what I could do, rather than create what I want to and can do, was fruitless.

This past weekend I got to grieve the loss of a dream job. And I got to accept that thing change and the universe always has signs up, it's just up to me to notice them. I also got to walk a labyrinth-- one of my favorite things to do.

It was snowy, the path was unclear. I was trying to remember how it should go (kinda like trying to find a job without reflection), but felt that even if I was on the wrong path (which I was) I should follow the person in front of me and not make waves. (Just like my last job, don't make waves when the new person comes in, just follow along.) I take a step and think "Courage" and then another step "wisdom". Wisdom, courage, over and over again.

My thoughts drift. The person in front of me is going to slow, leading us in the wrong direction. i should have gone first. I see an opportunity to jump the path and start again, and do. "I guess I have to do it over again" comes up-- that's fine, I can learn more the second time around. I enjoy this walk, no one behind me pushing me along, no one in front of me, just wandering. Fear 'I am never going to get to the middle. It's not leading me to the middle. I can't there, what if I never get there. Should I give up now?'

Take a step- courage, take another step- wisdom. Why do you think you have to follow some path, just because everyone else does, to get you to the middle? Just get there.
I got there, and the middle was quiet. I asked my question, and got my answer along the journey.

Create your own path.
Learn from your mistakes.
Trust your gut.
Take the lead.
Enjoy the journey, but know that yours is unique and no one elses'.

I looked up. Thank you God. Thank you universe. Thank you for having me be unplugged for three days, uncovering what I love to do, recognizing the good in myself that is having me move forward in this life. Bless this journey. There is no where to get to, Just look at the signs, answer the calling.

I have been smoke free for a week. I have been alcohol free for a week. I have turned down drinks, went to a bar and got diet coke. I am not my addictions. I went to WW this morning and although I am up 2 pounds over two months ago, I am working the program. And I am on my way.

30 day challenge-- I was diligent for 6 days, took one day off, then great for two, then a lug for three. Now, back on track. I am not my addictions.

Back to life, back to reality......

Remember who I was

2009-11-21T13:44:00.003-05:00

Last night I was looking at pictures of myself. Actually it was yesterday afternoon, just prior to getting my haircut because I wanted the same bangs I had years ago.

Looking at my round face surprised me. It was odd to see a different me than the one I have gotten used to over the last year. I can say now that I can see the difference, and I am different now than I was then.

I looked at her, she was brave, but sad. Lonely. Now, not so sad and lonely. Just anxious.

Anxious about gaining weight, becoming an alcoholic, being someone who can't help but sabotage themselves at every step. Anxious about what's next, not knowing, not being able to create the life I want.

Before, I could blame it on weight. Now, I can't. I mean, I can, I am still (what seems like eons) away from a goal weight that resides in the range of low overweight or "normal". I still have 70+ pounds to lose before a hard and fast sheet of paper can declare me "normal". As in normal BMI. I understand, I am tall, and have pounds of excess skin that could be a factor, but wen it is all said and done, at least 60 pounds have got to peel off before I can consider myself victorious.

So yeah, I guess I can still blame it on weight. But I don't. Now it is clear to me that the person I used to be was a little more resilient to anxiety. She ate it away, and did whatever she had to so she could have the life she wanted. Or what she thought she "could" have. So then, things weren't as big of a disappointment when they didn't happen.

I'm done posting about that.

Last night James had to peel me off the bathroom floor because I drank a bottle of wine in the span of an hour. I didn't get sick, just dizzy. And I laid down in my tiny bathroom and used a towel for a pillow and fell asleep. Not because I was tired, but because I was wasted. I had a flashback to being a kid and seeing myself do the same thing with my mom. As we went back to the bedroom, I kept asking where James was, because I was convinced that the person taking me to my bedroom was my dad. So wasted, altered reality.

Apologetic, and looking into his eyes this morning I saw his fear and sadness for me. This has to stop. It's everything I didn't want.

And it's entirely NOT who I was. This is a new facet of me, and I'm not pleased. And I will make changes, small changes, and nip this in the bud. Prune this wallow tree. Yes, I said wallow tree.

Off to walk. Or just get out of the house.

Something Big

2009-11-12T09:00:00.002-05:00

Last night I shared with James bits of my blog.

I also gave him the address. I said "If you start reading it, you can never let me know" mainly because I don't want to ever censor myself. Not that I would, but knowing who my readers are is kinda scary. Because I would rather be as truthful as I can.

Everything I write is all in my head, it's the internal conversation that I have with myself. It's like taking the mute button and making it a speaker button. So there I am, my life on loudspeaker.

If you see this, Hi James. I love you. And I love that you don't judge me. I'll be home tonight to give you kisses at the door.

------

I am working through so many things this week-- the idea if I didn't have the struggle against my weight, what would my life be like. If I never lost another pound, what would my life be like. I got to that I would want to take care of my body-- to maintain the way it is right now. To treat it well, with good food, good exercise, being active. Feeding my creativity and my mind. To just be. OK. With. Myself.

It's nice to get there.

Its all a journey. A journey to me.

Is it bad?

2009-11-11T16:20:00.002-05:00

is it bad to get moved by your own writing?

A couple years ago a friend comissioned me to write text for his most amazing dance solo piece. And we came across it the other day.

My life is  written on the backs of sleeves full of tears and snot in lieu of  Kleenex

Waiting on  corners for him to show up

My life is  written on ticket stubs and burned out metro cards and buttons from shirts I  never owned

My life is  written on the backs of coffee cups with red ring sides full of kisses shared  with liquid happiness

My life is  written on church bulletins and post-it notes in my mother’s handwriting written  out in highlighters

My life is  written on postage stamps to cards never sent to family members unseen and  unheard

Picture  perfect events that never happened while I was  around

My life is  written on white paper with black pen as I patiently wait for my cigarette to  finish smoking itself

My life is  written on the pills of my middle management wardrobe and “what do you do for a  living”

Its written  on the sidewalks of my worn shoes back and forth to make some  money

My life is  written on the empty boxes of food and banana peels that make up my pile of  garbage

My life is  written with cigarette stained fingers and spoken in acts of an  addiction

My life is  written on bathroom mirrors and plate glass windows, words following me  everywhere till I have no where to run

There is no  hiding from my life, there is no absence, no structure, it’s  life

I collect  these words as they trail after me, stuffing them into my body, eating them  again and again, and throwing them up into small bits and pieces until finally  someday, one day, someone besides me will be nourished by  them

It's not as  easy as a song, or as pretty as a picture, I can't touch it or feel its warmth  or hold it as I fall asleep at night. I can't wear it like a cloak or funny hat,  I can't smell it like the trash truck hurtling down my street at  4am.

I can't  describe it other than black pen on white paper, written in my mother's  handwriting, broken into my own language.

I had forgotten this girl existed. This sad and thoughtful and miserable person with a very good sense of picture painting in greys and blues.

At the time during this was written, I was working for a bank, not happy at all, on the second shift. I was miserable in my body, so so lonely, and just hoping that someday, one day I would figure out how to date someone, anyone. I ate too much, I smoked too much, I lived with roomates and was still pining away for some guy who's name I can't even remember.

It's nice to revisit her. She's still lonely. She can't believe that this relationship, this body, this life is going to last. She comes out every now and again, snarky, bitchy, whining, and angry. Like I said, nice to revisit, but not to stay.

However, I am moved by that person. Wow. I forgot she can feel and write. And so it goes. I'm in the process of uncovering great things about myself, and slowing down..... but how can I slow down when I have nothing to do all day but find a job--- well, dear reader, that is the key. Spinning my wheels is useless. So now I am enjoying the day and being productive without jamming everything in there.

She's a good writer. I like her.

Letter to myself

2009-10-23T11:32:00.002-04:00

When "I don't want to you can't make me" comes up, I call it my "little Kimmie". She's a rough and tumble, rounded belly girl who is way too smart for her own age, she likes things like kitty cats (which her mother won't let her have), playing in tents made with gramma's high backed chairs, and singing songs that don't make any sense. She is super sassy, but cries easily because she doesn't understand why everyone doesn't like her. She hates the rules, although she follows them, she would rather be jumping in the swimming pool, or running through the soccer field or eating ice cream for breakfast, or watching tv with complete control over the remote.

She is not a fan of structure at all. And as an adult, when Kim needs structure, little Kimmie comes out and rebels. She wants to watch tv, she wants to eat chocolate, she wants to take a nap, she would rather be bored and by herself than with others, because again, she doesn't understand why everyone doesn't like her.

Here is my letter to her.

Dear Kimmie,

You are such a beautiful girl, although you may not think so. Your friends have longer hair and are much smaller than you, but you can protect yourself from anything except from your heart getting broken. Not everyone has to like you, and it will take years for you to understand that people just may not be interested in talking to you or being your friend. But that this their problem, not yours. You can love them and appreciate them all you'd like, just know, they may not return it.

What you should know about yourself as a 36 year old woman is that you are still beautiful. And you are so super smart. People comment all the time how funny and sassy you are, and it is a testament to you, for just being yourself along the way, that will have you feel comfortable in your skin. So you can hide in a little bit of that smile knowing that you turn out a-okay.

But, sassy Kimmie, you hate the rules. Rules are boring. Here's the deal-- you have lost a job you loved, but people you have met along the way are from all over the world-- you've travelled to Asia and Europe and South America, and you have hundreds of friends. And they like you for you! However, you have been sad, so so sad, and no one can do anything to make you less sad. You have a great boyfriend who will become your husband, and even he cannot get you out of being sad. You feel like crying alot, because it feels like those people who took away that awesome job were mean. And perhaps they were, but what they didn't see is how truly amazing you are. You really can do anything once you set your mind to it.

So here's the deal, there are going to be some guidelines I am going to set. I don't want to call them rules, but perhaps, just a structure you can work in. You will get time to write and daydream and sing songs-- just so you can fill up your pot of mischief and mystery. But as an adult, I am going to need your help in getting the adult things out of the way to have that time.

First, together, we are going to look at your resume to see what it is you have accomplished, and together we are going to write it in our own words. Then we are going to talk to people who are our friends, or that want to be our friends, to see if there is anything they may know about that will have you create that dream career that I want. You have to remember the house you created with the red door and the room to dream in is our goal, you created it, and I am holding onto it, so that together we can find it.

Second, we will have scheduled things that need to be done. There will be running and playing and discovering and thinking and writing and all of that, all of which you love to do, but sometimes we are going to be doing them whether you want to at that time or not. It's not a punishment, you haven't done anything bad, but it's just a way to keep things like school-- a time table. It'll be like PE or Music class at St. C, you hated getting dressed for it, or walking down the hall, but once you were on the kickball field or in the choir room, a whole new world opened up-- and it didn't matter that you didn't want to just before. You did it because you said you would. And you actually like doing it. So you can make all the faces you want, and be a sour puss, but you are still getting up and doing what you said you would.

Every week, you will have 3 hours of a free pass during scheduled times. You have to use this time wisely-- and in those three hours you get to do anything you want. It will be our special little date together.

I hope you can see that together we are going to make this structure work. I know there are things you don't like that I am doing currently, like smoking and drinking, and I will need your help with that too. remind me what it's like to be a kid again, and run and jump and play and enjoy new adventures, and together we can be the best Kim we know how to be.

I love you. In partnership and play--

Kim

PS: the best thing about being an adult is that NO ONE ever calls you Kimberly. So you won that battle!

Living MY Life

2009-10-22T12:28:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I started with a new women's coaching program-- and it's pretty awesome. I am taking on three BIG projects-- 1) health and well-being 2) creating a passionate life (whatever that may mean is yet to be determined) and 3) Dream career.

I am very very specific about what I want in a dream career-- I forget that when I write things down and then forget about them, they somehow come together. Years ago I started writing about my dream man/ partner-- the nameless faceless bastard that I am going to make miserable for the rest of my life, and lo and behold-- James. It took 7+ years, but overall, a nice wait. I often say that before I wouldn't have been ready for a relationship.

Before. Before what? Before surgery-- perhaps. Surgery and all the steps leading up to surgery had me get my shit in order. I had to get super real with myself. I had to understand the games I was playing with myself, and clear them out of the way. And for 8 months work non-stop as if this were my goal. And I had to really address some of the underlying behaviors and thoughts that had me get to my top weight. So before surgery, yes.

But before something else..... at some point I made a choice to not be alone. To want a partner in crime. And I talked about who I wanted that to be, wrote about him, dreamed about him. Sometimes I tried to date him, but alas, it wasn't him. Because I was still coming from "I'm not good enough", and settled for men that were not in my best interest. Or waited for someone to like me first. This happened well after surgery-- but around Feb or so of 2008 I shifted. I was and am good enough to be in a partnership with a man who is crazy about me, who wants to hold my hand, who can be respectful and loving, and on and on. And for the first time, I BELIEVED IT TO BE TRUE.......And then I really began the search for him. It was like I was opened to some thing inside myself that said "Okay, now" and I jumped in the pool.

Before, what else? Before my mid thirties. Before coming into that knowing part of myself where I feel strong and wise and I have grays on my head and creaks in my bones, before when I was supple and lucious and round (which I still am, just less round). Before when I was nervous and awkward and loud and bold and "It's never going to happen".

Now I am looking at my "before" for my career. Before my last position, I was just doing things for other people, recently I am doing for myself. Before I was scared they wouldn't like me, now, scared doesn't even come into it, I have to work with all kinds. Before I punched a clock, now I am always connected. Before I did the same thing every day, recently I had new exciting experiences that had me see that work can sometimes be what you love.

Thus, dreaming of the career.

It's actually very interesting, tapping into the calm wisdom that is in my center, my heart, and not all in my head. A bit of advice for myself, slow it down. When I slow down, I actually get so much more accomplished-- just listening to what I need. When I feel I have too many options, just choose one and stick with it until it doesn't work.

Living MY life.

If you want to know my coach and her programs, here she is. Check out her site if interested (I should probably warn her about my blog..... hmmm.)

http://www.soulfulcoach.com/

Living life when I want to live MY life.

2009-10-14T13:30:00.003-04:00

James and I have been doing WW pretty regularly. And things are just not working. I lose, I gain, I lose. But it's the community that gets me through, the going to the meetings and talking about why we do what we do and having the insight to change the way we are doing things.

I've lost motivation to job search. I feel helpless, and yet I just want to sit in jammies all day and watch tv. And snack. And then feel bad about myself. And then look on facebook, and talk to friends and then feel bad, snack. I have been doing an enormous amount of drinking over the last couple of weeks and it's time to end that.

So we are getting ready for bed, which means that I am in bed, he is putzing around, getting coffee ready for the morning, brushing his teeth. I am watching a dvr'ed Law and Order (because I am obsessed). He comes to bed, I turn off the tv and we snuggle. I start to cry.

"Are you getting weepy?"
Yes.
Why, what's wrong?
Nothing, I just love you so much. I love you so much that I am afraid that some terrible accident is going to take you away and I'll never love anyone like I love you.
I hope you don't love anyone like you love me. I'm here for the long haul. I'm not going anywhere.

Then I tell him that I snack all day long, being unemployed sucks, and I have no purpose. And that I am changing up my routine-- doing a little detox off the coffee, off the soda, off the alcohol and a couple of days of liquids. Just to break the cycle of snacking. To get myself back to myself.

He says he's proud of me for recognizing that things have gotten out of control, but he makes no judgement on it. He says that because I say things have gotten out of control than they have, and his opinion doesn't matter because it's me who is going through it. He says he loves me no matter what size I am and to always remember that.

And then we fell asleep side by side.

---------------------

Yesterday I was talking to a friend that is doing this really cool program for women. It's a leadership institute for women-- working on goals and issues that mean something to us individually and working together. For instance, say I want to write a book, but I am blocked by it. I now have 10 women who can coach me on that, who can hold me to account. Say another woman wants to start her own business, 10 women to coach her. And on and on.

I wrote to my friend and told her it would be out of integrity for me to take on the program because of finances, but laid out all the things I could do in trade. And she said yes. And I am so freaking stoked!

Because really, for the last few weeks, I have just been living life. I want to start living MY life, saying how it goes, creating every day as something that pulls me forward and has me spring out of bed. It has me take on challenges and problems and solve them, create opportunities. I want that life.

My confidence has been shot for a long time, and I haven't reached out. So here it is....

It is time to live my life outloud.

Okay-- here's the plan. Journal every day, blog three times a week. Let you know what's up.
Right now, today, I am 271. I'm not happy with the number but everything fits well, an dI am active, going to the gym 3 times a week and toning up. I can lose 73 pounds. I can I can.

When I started, I thought it would be easy. Not easy. I wanted a running head start to lose the weight. Well, I got it. And now it's time to start running with it. 73 pounds is nothing.

----------------------

James says as we are falling asleep, just think that you only have 5 pounds to lose. You can do that. I know you can. I believe in you.

Wow. My eyes tear up with how much I love this man.

Gym and Spiriual Reconnection

2009-09-18T13:03:00.002-04:00

Yesterday morning I went to the gym and ENJOYED it. I did legs and then walked/ran for 48 minutes. Today I am a bit sore, but the nice thing is that I got a lot of stuff done yesterday-- namely nails and toes.

I went to a sister Circle last night. Now before people get all weird on me, this circle is just a gathering of women who are taking 2 hours out for themselves to honor the women that have gone before them. It has nothing to do with witches and warlocks and Harry Potter-ish things.

Think a puritan gathering of women who come together to sing and share and laugh and create.

I forgot how much I enjoy that. The candles, the sage, the calm of being in the presence of other women who are honoring themselves by creating intentions for the month on the New Moon. It's like wishing on a star, a little girl wishes being told to her best friend, and going back to a much simpler time.

Last night was a guided meditation on what we have forgotten, that part of ourselves that we have left abandoned. I found my creativity again. It was just waiting for me, and I picked it up and dusted it off, and so now it's with me.

Along the line from my move from So Cal to NYC (14 years ago), I decided that I needed to be grown up and not be creative. I decided that having a real job that makes money that gives me the life I want was more important than being creative. But really, I decided that my creativity wasn't worth money-- that I couldn't make a living being creative-- whether that's writing, singing, dancing, painting, acting, comedy, sculpting, etc etc. And because of that decision, I left my creativity up on a shelf in a room I moved out of long ago.

So when I was doing this meditation, I found that although there have been times when I have transformed my creativity to suit the job, and have written/ sang/ danced/ etc off and on, that I haven't cultivated it. I haven't given myself the gift of what I love to do-- to be expressed artistically. At the time I abandoned it, I felt that since I couldn't make money "being creative" then I had to let it go. Which now I know is not necessarily the case. Do I have to give up swimming or cooking or anything else I love to do because I can't make a living doing it? No. I can keep cultivating my creativity, feeding it, watering it, and letting it be-- to grow into something great.

I feel connected.

Merry meet, merry part, merry meet again.

New Me meet Old Me

2009-09-16T09:44:00.006-04:00

Over the weekend, James decided to clean the apartment, which of course freaked me out. I mean, he moved in with me, so I should clean, because the place still very much feels "mine". And I for sure should clean because I am home all day, although I am interneting, interviewing, phone calling and job searching. But I am HOME ALL DAY so it should be done by me, right?

James explained that he too lives here, and wanted to clean and straighten the mess, not "my" mess, not "his" mess, but "the" mess. Our mess. So away he went, I worked on the kitchen for a moment, the office for a while, the closet, and then left him to clean the bedroom-- pulling furniture away from the walls, sorting out the garage sale stuff from the just throw it out stuff. During the course of his cleaning, he came across my trunk of journals.

He's asked before if he could read them, and I've said no. I don't mind him reading my work, but he only knows the new me, I don't want him to see the old me. I don't mind showing him pictures of old me, or having friends tell stories of my antics, or trying to explain to him my mindset I used to have, but I can't have him read my very very intimate thoughts. From just past college to now. He put the trunk in the corner and started piling things on it for the sale.

Yesterday morning, I went through each page from Sept 1995 through just before surgery. The sum of my thoughts and words are:
"I am going to lose weight, a pound a week, exercise more, quit smoking, get off the couch, start a diet"
"I failed at my diet, losing weight, exercising, I'm still smoking, etc"
"I hate that I am alone"
"My so called friends are anything but"
"I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up"
"I hate myself, my body, my decisions, my apartment, my roomates, my lack of roomates, my boss/schedule/job/commute etc"

The old me worked through so much garbage on self-esteem. She made plans and deadlines and goals. She wanted to be 260 (which is what I am about) and be able to run (I can) be a non-smoker (I am) have a boyfriend (I do) and have a job beyond her wildest dreams (I did, and am currently uncovering that again). I wonder if old me actually worked on this stuff, or just declared it.

Old me on her way to the new me created possibilities, she took courses that changed the way she looked at herself and life, she met people that impacted her existence and sometimes gave her a purpose much larger than herself, she learned to be an amazing coach in life and career, ask for what she wants, not lie, etc. Old me was the one that chose to get weight loss surgery. Little did she know she signed her death warrant.

New me appeared. She slowly got more confident, unrecognizable, pretty, thinner, older and wiser. New me is fun and frolicky, she has energy and everything she puts in her mouth she thinks about. She no longer eats automatically-- she thinks about food as fuel first and then taste. She takes her vitamins, she pays attention to her body and the aches and pains. She reads up on health, mental and physical, and works on her well-being. She says "no" way more often, doesn't feel guilty all the time, and has a solid relationship based on trust, fidelity and love. She has a good idea about what she wants her life to look like beyond just losing weight.

She is also scared that her new addiction is red wine and she is taking steps to correct that.

New me, meet old me. As I was reading my words I got so confronted that I lived that way for so many years. It's just a tape in my head, and it's playing it's greatest hits with me now-- along with a few new ones-- you haven't lost all your weight, you only made it to a size 18W, you should have done more, done better, etc. You should have never started smoking, drinking, eating ice cream, testing out pasta/bread/sugar. I can eat it all, minus very oily things, and not have an issue. You should you should you should.

That's all part of the old me trying to resurface. The new me says you made it to your old me goals. Now, time for new ones. Ones that are meaningful to you. Ones that are about life, work, relationships, health. Ones that have nothing to do with "when i get to this weight i"ll be...." and then fill in the blank. I am healthy, active, and strong. I have very slight amounts of being down, and yet that road is always just a turn off the highway of my life. I don't want to dwell there. Just visit when it's necessary to re-group.

I went through the journals. Ripped out the important things I wanted to keep. Tossed out the stuff that was old me, old negative me. The half filled journals, the directions on pages to places i'll never go again, the old phone numbers to people I can't remember how I know them, notes from classes taken long ago. I kept a very small box of things that were important to me.

It's not like I am trying to get rid of that old me. I just don't need her past clouding up my future. I know I will not go back to read most of it, so out it went. And it felt good.

The only room in the house that is not clean is the office. It's time. Oh boy, it's time.

I might let James read the old stuff I kept. Perhaps.

I'm feeling lighter already

2009-08-18T14:59:00.002-04:00

I should start every blog entry with "Poor James". I was doing a feel sorry for myself dance last night and just cried and cried. Didn't smoke, but then we went for a walk and some ice cream. And kissing. And well, then, not so poor James anymore.

The job search continues. I realize I am focusing less on the job, and more on just getting my stuff out there. But for someone's whose business it is to create the space for personal development, I am not doing any. Today I did 5.5 hours on search, and now I am going to read up on new trends in the industry. I need to be able to talk about what it is I am meant to do, right?

Had a full breakfast with James this morning. Eggs. Turkey bacon. Biscuit. Then a full lunch. Half a chicken salad sanwich, a bowl of salad. Grapes. There is not a lot of snacking today. I'm not really craving a cigarette, I am just going to keep setting myself up to win-- doing what I know is right to make a difference.

Small changes. Tiny ones. It's making a profound difference on my psyche.

In other news, it's hot and sweaty and I have spent the day without air conditioning because I am crazy like that. I figure it should be summer, I should get some fresh air through here, no matter how humid it is. It's actually not that bad.

However, I need to shower. Headed to the Mets game tonight. The best $600 I spent on anything, 15 games x 2 seats in nosebleed section. I forgot how much I loved going to the baseball game. Regardless of who wins. Although, winning is nice.

Busting through the numbers

2009-08-17T15:18:00.003-04:00

Okay, so another thing I realized is that I am melting. and I hit my 2 year surgery anniversary.

So this is what's so:
I am at 267, which is 5 pounds over my lowest since surgery.
I can run around the bases in softball and not get winded.
I wear an XL t-shirt, an L tank top (old navy) and 18W bottoms.
I wear a 16W dress.
I am a non-smoker today.
I take my vitamins every day and rarely have missed.
I do not exercise more than 1 time per week. When I do I usually walk for 30 mins, and ride a bike for 25.
I often eat meals and drink water together.
I can eat anything. Seriously. Anything. Sugar, fat, refined carbs, meat, pasta-- you name it.
I had my ideal dream job and loved it, and got terminated because of the economy.
I have been laid off since February 2 and I am really tired of searching for a job and being so close to my refrigerator all the time.
I cook most meals every day and have turned into a pretty inventive cook.
I have a budget and keep to it (most days).
I have paid off $13k in credit card debt over the last year and have about $13K to go.
I am bordering on a transfer addiction of both cigarettes and wine. I have consumed more red wine this year than I have ever had in my life, and I crave it at times.
I have considerably cut back on my cheese intake, down from a drawer full of cheese to two kinds.

Some of those things I am proud of, some not so much.

Here's what my goals are for this upcoming year.
In 2010 on my surgiversary I will be able to say that:
I weigh less than 240 pounds
I am a non-smoker
I work out 3 times a week and use the Wii every other day.
I watch less than 6 hours of TV a week.
I do not drink anything with meals. I wait 45 mins after a meal to drink anything.
I only have alcohol on really special celebrations. And no more than 2 per celebration.
I take my vitamins every day and keep up with my blood labs.
I have been gainfully employed in a position for about 10 months that allows me creativity, freedom and the opportunity to make a difference, paying over $80K per year. I am stretched every day and my skills at networking, coaching and training are fully realized.
I have health benefits that are amazing.
James and I have set a date.
My credit card debt is paid off entirely.
I rarely eat pasta, treats (candy, cookies, ice cream), rice, bread and my diet consists mainly of a Mediterranean meals (fish, chicken, fresh veggies, feta, etc).

I can say I am happy right now in this moment. I am chomping on Nicorette and considering taking a shower because at 3:30pm I am still in my pajamas and have no motivation to get to the gym which is around the corner. Which I have all the time in the world for.

Laying in bed the other night, I was feeling around my new body. I am melting. My skin is melting, and I wonder how many more pounds I would lose if that skin went away. My guess is that it would be about 20 pounds (based on a friend who was the same size pre-surgery and dropped 100 pounds and had a lower body lift and lost 14 pounds at 5'3. I'm 5'9). So I reconfigured my "ideal weight) up top. Now, my ideal is in the 180's which would put me right about target.

Listen, I'll decide later on in life if I want a plasty surgery. I am not ruling it out. But for now, I would enjoy being employed and away from the fridge. Off to the gym.

Vacation

2009-08-17T14:37:00.002-04:00

We went on vacation two weeks ago. I am still unpacking. It was a week in Arizona (I know, the middle of the summer) and it was magical in parts. And eye opening in others.

Started off the trip sitting across the aisle from one another, holding hands as we took off. This was James' first long trip, and of course, was a short trip for me. He has been on a few planes before to Fl and Canada, but me, well, world traveller over here. It was so very cute, he did a sign of the cross and said a prayer. I love him so.

After our snacks on the plane (I made sandwiches and brought along fruit and rice cakes) we landed and it was hot. Super duper hot hot hot. Spent the day napping and hanging out with C and her mom, enjoying the pool and catching up. The next morning we were off to Sedona.

Sedona. Oh glorious red rocks. My heart and eyes were opened to the beauty of the desert and the energy it has. Rather than give you a blow by blow, we did the following things....
1) Spent the day at the pool with books and magazines and rum.
2) Watched the sunrise.
3) Watched the sunset.

But this I will share. Up a road, into the hills a ways, we parked at a national campground-- picnic looking place. The sun was about an hour from setting, and the air was cooler than it had been during the day. I got out of the car and walked to the campground, just to get a better view of the red rocks, and be in the silence. No one was around. James got out, and we heard someone playing pan flute. Then the wind whipped up through the canyons and between us.

James is not one for new age and energy and all that. Of course, I am, but to each his own. We looked at each other, him with fear of the unknown, and me with strength and wisdom of a thousand years of lives, and spoke our vows on the wind.

Our eternal vows. I won't repeat them because we spoke with our hearts open, our minds connected, and to tell the truth, I have no idea what either of us said. What I do know is that I looked at that man in front of me and saw love, support, kindness, gentleness and truth. I saw forever-- and not just this forever, but the forever forever that lasts through time.

And with that, and tears in our eyes, our arms around each other, the wind whipped up against us and took our vows through the canyons and out into the world. One day, we will repeat them in front of friends, family and strangers, he in a suit, me in a dress-- but the wind knows what is in our hearts.

After that part of vacation, there was good Mexican food, good company with C and her family, a small snafu that lead me to take a stand for myself and not be bullied by another human. I saw Thunderbird, and am considering it for its MBA program. If I make the investment now when I am unemployed and have the time, I believe I can get more out of it in the long run. It's all choices.

Now, back to the WW. We don't have much liquor in the house, and our food bill has been reduced to about $75 a week because of finances. This is more than enough for the two of us to eat on, I buy most vegetables at the green market and am good for two weeks on fruits and breads. Meat might be an issue, but I am being creative. There's not a lot of eating out, or money for fun right now, because I want to be careful with finances. I don't want to have to ask mom and dad to cover me. I've got things I can sell and part with to make extra money. Cleaning out the clutter once again.

Weight-- doing good. Over vacation I gained .2 pounds, so that brings my total to 267.2. The next goal I am setting for myself is 259. I want to break into the 250's. And stay under that.

Saturday fill ins

2009-07-18T12:36:00.002-04:00

James and I are off to a BBQ-- and we are bringing fruit. Usually I bring chips, dip, cupcakes, cookies, etc-- but we are bringing fruit. It's hot, tomorrow we weigh in, and both of us want the scale to show that within 3 weeks we lost 5% of our body weight.

Smoking-- quitting. Monday. Have to. HAVE TO HAVE TO HAVE TO. On a good note, I went to the gym twice this week. Bad news, didn't really job search. This week, I promise.

Fill ins.
1. Turkey Meatballs and sauce make a quick and easy dinner.

2. (Some book written by the owner of Omega Institute about breakdowns that change people's lives) is the book I'm reading right now. ( I am terrible with titles)

3. July brings back memories of swimming at gramma's pool with my cousins, eating clam chowder for lunch and taking naps on the sticky carpet in our bathing suits while we watched Judge Wapner.

4. Cleaning the office was obvious.

5. They say if you tell your dreams to others, it puts an intention out there in the universe, and then you are compelled to put that dream into action. Your intentions create your world, so intend loudly, dream large and then follow through. Don't ever give up the dream.

6. Right now I'd like to think it over.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to BBQ with friends in LI, tomorrow my plans include WW and waking up late and Sunday, I want to make fresh blueberry pancakes and turkey sausage for breakfast!

Saturday Fill-in and Updates

2009-07-11T01:32:00.002-04:00

James and I started WW. I lost 11 pounds. I'm happy and re-learning that all food is on-limits, and my pouch only holds so much. And that being out of work and home all day with a fridge is terrible for the waistline.

Cheese. Wine. I love you both. Time to moderate.

Fill-ins. Thanks for the push Rebel Saint.

1. The last thing I ate was a slice of pizza and a Mexican Shrimp salad.

2. Cigarettes is something I recently bought. (ooh, bad idea.)

3. When it rains, it must have been because I planned a party, because it always rains on my celebrations.

4. James was the first person I talked to today.

5. Hugs are delicious.

6.My hips are built for extra comfort.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to spending time with friends, tomorrow my plans include a picnic and beach time at a state park and Sunday, I want to lose 3 pounds at WW!

Monday begins anew

2009-06-08T08:30:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was awesome. Backyard barbeque after a baptism, delicious charred meat and oodles of wine. Then home to sleep after watching the Tonys (or part of). Nice job.

Today I weigh 274.9.

Today I am doing a little clutter clearing-- I am playing a game called "A job by my birthday" which is June 14. This coming Sunday. Although there are a couple prospects, the real game is playing like I start work on June 15, and get bills and household stuff in order on my "last full week off". That way, there is nothing in the way after my birthday to find a job, interview or anything else that I might want to accomplish. No, "I really should do X".

What I would like is to create a position that would allow me to take a week before I started and head to CA to see family and friends. Take vacation, per se. Even the unemployed need some time away.

So, 274.9. That seems like a great number to start at. My new number. I am not running from it, I am running to health, vitality and peace. I am running towards unstoppable. I have a goal, 225 by Thanksgiving, which is 24 weeks away. A completely do-able goal. The bonus opportunity is that during this 24 week journey, I write at least once a week, journal 2 times a week and check in with myself every Monday morning as a temperature gauge. Other things that might help me along the way-- Weight Watchers/ OA/ Support Group/ Therapy.

Right now, I wear a woman's 18 at Kohl's (so 18W) and an X-Large shirt (a 1X fits a little looser from the plus department). My goal is to be entirely in the straight sizes by Thanksgiving-- a size 14 pant (not 14 W) and X-Large or L shirt. I want to purchase (or at least have the opportunity to purchase) a dress off the rack from Ann Taylor/ Banana Republic/ J Crew in a 14.

Just as a starting point. Thanks Mama of the Melts for the marathon anaology. That guy is in my city and I did my pre-op counselling with him. Its a reminder that going back to him would be a fantastic idea. It's a lifetime marathon-- there is not the room to sit on the sidelines and cheer, now is the time to get on the road and pound it out.

Much love.

Getting Unstuck

2009-06-07T09:43:00.002-04:00

I took part of a very cool class over the weekend that I had done before (the Landmark Forum). I only took a part of it (which is not recommended) because I have some family obligations that I have to take care of, but the part that I needed some review with. Since 2002 I have been involved with Landmark, either coaching programs or being a participant in communications courses, the curriculum for living, seminars, etc. I can't say "it gave me my life" like some people do, but it really has given me a way to look at my life that has me be unstuck in all areas, if I choose to. This is the key.

So, there I am sitting in the Landmark Forum (which if you know, is a total feat for me. I hate being a participant, I hate the idea that for the next 3 days I am going to be sharing about my life with people I don't know, and then go out into my life and share with people I love about where I have been slimy or icky and then create something new. I like the creating something new, but I'd rather be a coach than a participant), and I am thinking about my life. Mainly about surgery, and the impact it has on me. From previous posts, you might understand that I have had it that I am stuck. Well here I am unsticking myself.

The what happened of my situation-- the bare bones-- is that I was grossly obese, 388 pounds at my highest (of record). I wore pants I had to order on the Internet, I lived in yoga pants and tank tops-- I had three pairs of the exact same stretchy work pants. I ate thousands of calories every day, smoked at least a pack a day, and delivery men knew who I was outside of deliveries (I once ran into a man in Manhattan who smiled and said "2R" which is my apartment number. I had no idea who he was until that night when I ordered a "snack" of a turkey sandwich, pint of ice cream and pack of cigarettes. Then I realized, he's my delivery guy from the deli.) I did not exercise except for the random yoga classes or treadmill adventures-- every now and again I would take walks. When I went to friend's places, I would sit in chairs with no arms and on sturdy furniture to make sure I wouldn't fall or break stuff. No one ever talked about my weight, except when I brought it up. I tried to diet, reducing calories, eating Atkins style, eating low fat, going on Weight Watchers-- and was usually great for a couple weeks. Then I would get some success, and then go back to old habits one by one.

My mom had surgery in 2007 in Jan. She was a different person, she lost so much weight and became my beautiful little mommy. I wanted that. I quit smoking in Jan 2007, and then had surgery Aug 2007. I lost 80 pounds by Christmas, and by June of 2008 I had lost 126 pounds. And then I met James and have been in an amazing intimate long term relationship for over a year. The first one of my life.

Just prior to meeting him, I smoked in Mexico and came back with that habit. And he smoked-- so it was okay for me to do that. And he's a bit of a big guy, so eating a little more was okay-- he likes curvy and soft. And for a year I haven't lost a pound. In fact, I have gained 10.
"But my body's changing and I look thinner!SO.
"But I am happier and have a boyfriend!" SO
"But I exercise more and am more active!" SO

I learned that I don't dump on sugar or fat, I can eat a waffle with syrup and butter and have a loaf of bread on the side with no issue except sleepy-- very sleepy. I can eat ice cream cones and strawberry jam and frosty's and milkshakes and cheeseburgers with buns and fries with ranch and and and and and......

I can do exactly what I did before and expect to get a different result. Ummm, that is the definition of insanity.

So here I am, sitting in that room, looking at myself. Coming clean. NO EXCUSES. Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong, it just is what it is. I realize (like past posts) that I am so afraid of going all out and failing that instead I put up insipid roadblocks to lose. Because if I went all out and failed, I would be devastated (what would others think of me), and I would have proof that I am not worth it and a failure. But with these roadblocks (one ice cream won't hurt, it's a small fry, only a glass of wine) plus lack of exercise (too busy, depressed, the gym will be too crowded) I am effectively committed to being overweight.

Committed, you say--- well yes. Look at what you have in your life, and that's what you are committed to. I say I want to be healthy, and yet, I buy cookies and don't exercise. I say I want to be an athlete, and yet I am the Olympic champion of Law and Order watching.

Nothing is bad, nothing is wrong, it just is what it is. I am still relating to myself as the six year old girl who's brother got fruit pies in his lunch when she got fruit. I am still letting that 6 year old run my life every time I let myself have a cookie or talk myself into a dessert or a bag of fries.

I have no plan, no regime, other than possibility. I am the possibility of being unstoppable. Nothing gets in my way, and if I stop myself, i remember what I am committed to.
And my committment.....

I am still working on that one. I know it has something to do with health, fitness, vitality, coaching, inspiration and getting what you want from life, but am still in the inquiry. For today, I am committed to living powerully and honoring my body and mind as the gifts that they are.

Unstuck-- yup. Today is a bright sunshiney day.

I know why I am stuck

2009-05-22T13:26:00.003-04:00

For those of you that have been following me for a while, you might remember Maddie.

I wrote about her before surgery. I wrote about her being 130 pound weight that I was saying goodbye to. Today I re-visited her and her story, and realized I am at the 130 pound mark of weight loss (or thereabouts). My skin is flabby and I feel deflated. And yet I have never felt more vulnerable, emotional, raw and surprisingly..... strong. Brave in fact.

I realize what I haven't done and what I need to do. Maddie was all past, there was no future written about her. She lived in-between binges and pushed emotions down with food (and as she got older, drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. Mostly cigarettes.), and kept people away with her growing girth and snark. She is something I haven't said goodbye to yet, I keep thinking I have, until I have a particularly emotional conversation, and then, there she is, ready to eat an ice cream, take a swig of maple syrup, or devour a pizza (in small measured bites over the course of a day). She can't hide behind smoking (although she really really wants to) and she's tried the alcohol route and found it, well, lacking.

I now get to create Maddie's future. My future. Fuck calling her Maddie-- she's me, I'm her, I get to create my future. Everything is so wide open for me right now-- I have no job, my boyfriend is moving in this weekend, I have a little bit of money in the bank, and I have all the free time in the world...... to create a future.

So, getting back to my point, I know why I am stuck. I am stuck because I never believed it possible to lose 200 pounds. I never gave myself the chance to really go for it all the way. I keep testing it out-- a little sugar here, a little more cheese there, some wine, something to drink with dinner-- all of these things little roadblocks to keep me in check. To keep me from "hurting" myself. Because if I fail at losing 200 pounds, then I will be so devastated, I will really be able to prove to myself I am an entire failure. So these little roadblocks go up as a way to slow me down, "don't get ahead of yourself", and to keep me from the real disappointment. Because I can say right now I haven't done everything it takes to make this surgery and lifestyle a success, I've done "enough" but haven't put my all into it.

It's like this-- my fear comes from a place that says "Hold back because if you really put it all on the line, you might get disappointed. And then you will prove to everyone else that you can't do it." And then the entire makeup of who I am, my facade will fall apart, and people will finally see that I am not superhuman, but in fact just human with faults and vulnerabilities and failures.

I'm thinking about a conversation that touched me so much last night. "You did good work and that's what you should be proud of." Or at least that's what I heard. It touched me because it was validation for the work I accomplished, the role I was, the identity I created. February 2nd that got stripped away from me, and now I realize this is just another way to get to who I am. I am not my job, I am not my surgery, I am not my weight.

Let me repeat that in a different way, I am not what I identify myself with. Surgery, weight, failure, success, job, title, class, money, ability, etc. All that can be stripped away. What's left is who I am.

Now here's the fun part-- who is that? If I cannot identify myself with things outside myself, who am I?

It seems too much to manage right now, but to be honest, it's a great place to start again. To begin something extraordinary. I say "that is past, now to move forward."

Maddie's gone physically. I don't feel her around my waist, clutching me, anymore. She's holding onto various other parts of me, but I can entangle myself. I can honor her for what she has done for me, but she, in essence, has been reduced in force. It has nothing to do with her job performance, but instead her position of protector and stuffer down of feelings has been eliminated.

I feel super free right now. And I have not smoked in 10 days. And I am being sad and weepy and allowing that to happen. No stuffing anything down.

Begin again, it's a beautiful place to be. I get to choose to keep roadblocking myself, or I choose something different. I'm in the inquiry right now.

Again, a beautiful place to be.

After the Dentist.....

2009-05-13T12:44:00.003-04:00

So after the dentist (which really did nothing) I went into St. Patrick's Cathedral and sat. I had a couple of hours to kill, and being in a very beautiful almost quiet place might just be the place to calm my blues and have me get to the bottom of the blues.

I sat. I prayed. I prayed. I always talk to God in some unorganized way, I believe that organized religion is worthwhile for those that find it worthwhile, much like the biking (hiking, camping, singing, theater, BDSM, kite-flying, vegan, recovery, etc etc) community is worthwhile for those that find it worthwhile. I am not against nor for. My spirituality is uncovered in the shades of gray (grey?) that is between cake or death.

So I am sitting there talking to God. Pouring my little heart out.

"Why me, why did I have to lose my fabulous "I love my job" job? Why did you give me everything and then take it away? Why can't I find anything that I love as much, why am I sitting on a pew in a church with tourists swarming around me taking pictures, bawling.

Why does this keep happening to me, I find something extraordinary and then I lose it? This has to be my fault, right? How come I just didn't get along with that woman and suck it up, why didn't I play the political game and make friends and make nice with that other guy and jockey for a better position. Why did I have to be so sure of myself, why did I have to be so snarky.

I MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG, I AM BAD!!! THIS IS MY PUNISHMENT!

I know this is my fault, I did something wrong and my dream job got taken away and it's gone forever and it's never coming back and I am going to have to find something to pay the bills and I am scared that I won't get recognized for the good work that I do, and I am so so scared that James and I are not going to make it financially because he is so scared of trying to find something with his passion and it's taking everything I have to support him emotionally so that he can get up and move in here already and I am just so tired and so exhausted and I can't even eat to shove this all down, I can't drink and I quit smoking. "

(bawling bawling, snotting crying, more why me's and finally, like a baby that cries themself calm, I sat. Sat for a hour. Just sitting, thinking, smelling the incense, rage-less against the world, taking in the sounds of people and marble floors and the cool cool of the Church. And calmed down. And said thank you)

"So I know you must have some delicious master plan that I am not privy to at this point but really, God, I love you and thank you for my health and my family and showing me that miracles do happen and confidence comes from self, not from others. But if you could just show me a sign of some sort that would have me know that I'll be okay and I'll get through this, I'd really appreciate it."

Upon leaving Church, having calmed down considerably, I tooled around before visiting a friend after work. I called my mom--the woman who two days after my layoff said "you might want to consider taking things you wouldn't normally take" and that "I can put you on my payroll again". I know she means well, but her words come at me and linger with me like little teeny tiny knives, and she has no idea that she's doing it. She says I am too sensitive, I say that I am human and don't think being mean is the same as being funny-- just because it makes you laugh it is not humor.

I don't know why I reached out to her, except I was sitting at a fountain in Rockefeller center wanting to smoke but not going to-- and I needed my mommy because I was about to cry again. At first she said "Don't be sad" but after I explained that I have nothing that will help me hold this down and it's just coming up-- she said-- cry all you want, baby. It's okay. You are going to be just fine, you'll find something better and it will be the next adventure."

She gave me permission to mourn. Actually encouraged me to mourn, to be sad, to get away for a couple days, to just be. That's my sign. My mom gave me that sign. She said "You have been trying to be brave and you just need some time away to regroup to be sad. You have to or else it's going to eat you up inside."

So, I am mourning-- full out crying and snotting and sad and angry and everything mourning. I loved loved loved my job, so I am sure there will be posts about it in the future. And yes, I have so many things to be thankful for, so I am going to do my best to be thankful and joyous for the things I do have, and contemplate on the things I don't, and grieve the things I have lost. And one day soon, I will pick myself up and dust myself off and say ENOUGH and begin again.

Until then, I am going to snot and cry over here.

Blue

2009-05-12T12:29:00.002-04:00

I'm blue today. On the verge of tears. Nothing seems to be helping.

Maybe it's the dentist appointment that I have in an hour. That's probably it.

More later-- Just blue. I'm allowed, right? I don't have to always smile, right? I don't have to always look on the bright side, I mean, people do have shitty days, and maybe today is one of them.

Oh, and I quit smoking yesterday. So blue and angry and de-carbing. By the end of the week I'll have a whole new perspective, possibly even a sunny disposition, but for now, blue. And angry.

And bored. And confused, and upset and concerned and overwhelmed and underwhelmed and sad and tired and and and.....

but mostly blue.

The Rose Candle

2009-05-06T23:42:00.002-04:00

It was the end of 1996 or early 1997 and my gramma came to visit my parents in CT. It would be the last time she took an extensive trip from home, as she died in Jan 2001.

I purchased the Rose candle-- that stupid Diana candle-- the English rose.

I gave one to my mom and one to gramma. Gramma was staying in my room-- she had the comfy bed, she had italian ice that she scraped every night (which drove my father to distraction) and she read every sign along the way to and from the grocery, on long drives, etc (Dip, 55 miles per hour, Road Construction ahead). I guess as we get older, we will all do this things. How I miss it so.

Gramma wasn't feeling well. She caught a cold and had terrible nightmares. She had not been terribly holed up in her house yet, but was soon going to be. She needed to be in bed before mom and pop started on their nightly routine, which was to drink themselves into a stupor, turn up the TV and eat leftovers until about 1am, to which their passed out selves would haul up to bed and then wake up at 5am to start the day again. I still can't figure out how they never have a hangover.

I stayed in the room next to Gramma. One night, after a terrible nightmare, I walked into her room to calm her down and knocked over a glass on the nightstand, along with the asprin I was bringing her. Since I didn't have slippers on, I kicked the glass under the bed so that she wouldn't step on it, along with a few of the pills. She said "Just sit with me a while." so I did.

At the end of her bed I lightly rubbed her legs, talking about how my life in NYC was so different from college, and the people I was meeting were so exciting and lovely, and that I finally felt like a grown up in the grown up world I had always lived in. She told me that she wished I would have had more of a childhood and not have taken care of so many people, but that she understood that this was my purpose in life, and that no matter how scared I was of blood and needles, that I would always be a nurse of some sort, just like she was. And that she was proud of me.

I brought in the candle and asked her if she wanted me to light it. It smelled so good, like her hand lotion when I was a little kid that I loved so much, and I wanted to share it with her. It was getting late, and she said "Don't light it, just keep it open and it will be just perfect." I tucked her back into bed, making sure that she had a full glass of water next to her (in a plastic cup this time) and her slippers nearby for bathroom runs. The next morning, I could smell the rose candle in the hallway-- it was delicious, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could take on the day, knowing she was right there, snoring lightly in my bed, because that CT house finally felt like home.

Years passed, she passed. I spent months and years missing her from the bottom of my heart-- of my soul. She was my best friend, I took care of her from far away and I surprised her with trips out to CA after I had moved to NYC, with little lunches and naptimes and cuddles and love. Sometimes I think the world will be so much of a better place if I can just crawl into her lap and tell her I had an accident and she will rock me and say "It's okay, I still love you."

When I met James, it was about 3 weeks before my birthday. For my first birthday with James, he gave me a bottle of Sunflowers. My last Christmas gift from Gramma was a bottle of Sunflowers perfume. It was like she blessed it from the heavens above and said "This one you can give your heart to." When I told my mom, we cried together, and this is how I know he's the one forever.

Over the summer, I found the unlit rose candle and brought it to my apartment. Tonight I have it burning, and all these great memories of Gramma come flooding back, swimming in her pool, the red chair, going on motorhome trips, olives in the egg salad, going to Mexico and eating homemade tortillas, the soft soft skin in her skirted bathing suit, her loving gentle and kind ways, her lilting voice, her square nails, her perfect hair, and all the best things that every girl should remember about her Gramma. She taught me how to make pancakes, how to be quiet when necessary, how to fight back and how to love with all my heart. It is because of her that I am generous and forgiving, for if she was nothing else, she was that.

So, I miss her. I always will. I can still see her face and hear her voice. When she died, my friend Dan held me in his arms and cried with me. The last words she said to me in her hospital bed were "I talk to you here (pointing to her heart). I love you forever."

I love you too. And the smell of roses has never been the same for me since.

Being Honest

2009-05-05T23:30:00.002-04:00

I ate an entire pizza today.

I threw away the bread on all slices but 3.

And I ate the crust from the strawberry pie. I haven't gotten out of my jammies and need a shower.

Just being honest. I'm ebbing, I'm flowing. I'm speaking my truth. I have no control over food, other than if I eat too much I get sick.

I still love myself, warts and all. But today was a dark day-- nothing exceptional happened. Just pizza.

It's just a reminder that taking care of myself is a conversation I have to keep open and honest and loving. And keep enrolling myself in my health and fitness and most of all, that I am worthy. I am worth it.
I AM WORTH IT.

It doesn't matter what the IT is-- I am worth it.

I am worth:
the effort to get and stay healthy
being a non smoker
being an active physical adult
all the energy it takes to keep me healthy
an amazing new job
balance in my life
a clean house
bills paid on time
good healthy food
all my vitamins
a healthy relationship with people I love
the hard conversations
joy and love and happiness

I am worth it all. I'm fucking priceless and I keep the unheard voice telling me that "tomorrow" will be better. So for now, tomorrow will be better than today.

That's all. It's not a bypass on the brain. It's just rearranging the guts. Old habits die hard. I may have killed this habit tonight.

I am worth it.

Don't worry, just being honest. It's a good place to start-- to come clean.

Little Bit of Love

2009-05-05T12:25:00.003-04:00

The Road Trip went great. I spent time with family, although never enough. Both James and I think that my brother doesn't like us-- he always seems distracted and angry, but I think that's just his way. James is such a grounding force, I got choked up when my niece wanted to go shopping, but I didn't have the money to go, and I went outside for some air. He came out and just hugged me-- we'll get through this. I love this man so much.

The trip back was full of rain-- the whole way. It sucked. Rain rain rain. We stayed overnight in Fredrickburg and had a lovely room, some TV watching and snuggle time. We are great road partners-- I am an awesome co-pilot. The one time I was driving, he upgraded me to the better cup holder-- it was delightful! That is love.

During my time away, I received some packages of vitamins and Avon. the vitamins are the ones that everyone is raving about, chewable calcium. I have to say, I'm not raving. I will mostly like fall in love with them soon enough, but for now, I am getting over the grit. It's better than the lozenges, and I will most likely use them as candies throughout the day, but come on-- it's not candy. It's vitamins. So of course, they are going to be slightly gritty and odd. However, a marked improvement over previous supplements.

I tried Click. I am buzzing. One shake and I have to run around my house cleaning and have so much get up and go. I love it. As a reminder to myself, Click is for the morning only-- because otherwise it would be too much.

Getting back into the swing of things. I have less than a month on my NYSC membership, and am going to work out every day until it's over. Then switch to Planet Fitness (for $50 less per month) . I am down a couple pounds over the last month, and am feeling stronger. Nothing like seeing arm flab in the rearview mirror to have me step away from the chips.

We made sandwiches and realtively healthy things for the ride down and back. In all, we did pretty good-- lots of cheese and crackers in the car for me, but I didn't eat too much during family gatherings. I had half of a cupcake at the Communion, and then wanted to crash out. Reminder that sugar is not my friend.

This morning, I tossed the rest of the road food away. Ecept for a lovely almost sugar free strawberry pie my aunt sent back with us. I had two slices last night, and am saving one for today and then I am tossing it. I just can't have that kind of sabotague in my fridge.

Job search: i am getting concerned. For me, for friends. I had a moment last night where I got really creative and thought of all the things I could do until the economy turns around again-- like working in retail, grocery stores, etc-- so I will keep my eyes open while I am searching for something spectacular. I feel like I should secure something in the next few weeks, but then that feeling goes away (doubt creeps in). I have to remember I am worth every penny that was paid to me by my former company. I did an excellent job, sacrificed a lot of time, and now am seeking balance.

Best quote of the trip: Sitting on the couch last night, I said to James:
"I Love you very much. You are my world. I opened the door to the outside for you, and you opened the door to the inside. Thank you. I will love you forever."

His response: (tears in his eyes) "Me too. You always say what I am thinking. Thank you for being my first love."

Awww.

A Road Trip

2009-04-30T13:27:00.002-04:00

Today James and I drive to NC to visit family and see my youngest niece (as of now) have her first communion. Ahh, how exciting!

I am packed, I need to shower, but lists are made and there are trains to catch to see my honey and stock up on some road food. We try to do it on the cheap, and on the healthy. Over the summer we went to Canada and did sammiches and chips, this time it will be a little different.

My list?

Ham, swiss (his choice, not mine), mini cheeses, rye, peanut butter, apples, grapes, celery, pretzel rods (again, his choice, not mine) yogurt and a couple sodas. Perhaps I might get some chips, but most likely will stick with fruits and veggies as crunchy foods.

I am also taking some WW mini bars. Those things are freaking awesome.

I love road trips. I made a playlist for our time, he has XM so we will be just fine with grooving in the car. Both of us love to sing with the radio anyhow, and I think we have some great driving tunes to get us by.

I'm excited to see the family. Nervous, because something always comes up, someone's feelings gets hurt, and there is never enough time. One thing I realized yesterday is that I am a missing in my neices and nephew's lives. I have no idea what they are into, what bands they like, what their favroite superhero is. These are important things to know. This weekend I made a promise to myself to get to the bottom of these questions.

Wish me luck. On the road, with the family, and staying on track. It's a bright sunshiney day, and I am just loving life.

Updates and a Promise

2009-04-28T12:18:00.002-04:00

Hey there everyone....

Well, Spring seems to have hit. This past weekend was chock full of spring cleaning-- the great wardrobe clear out, a little cash and a cute new dress purchased. I've gone through books and boxes and bags of things, things that I stuff away when guests come over. I have cleared out the carb monster from the cabinets, every now and again I'll have a cookie/ donut/ crackers-- but overall, feeling very clean and fresh.

I spent the better part of April temping at a hotel in the city. A very nice hotel. Where I worked as a Sales Coordinator in the basement. So all day I saw nothing but beige walls and the cafeteria. It was nice to have free food, but it's hotel food, so not great. I was happy when the temp job ended, the money was nice, but I wasn't making much more than on unemployment. And I wasn't able to job search or get emails or texts, because of security and well, being in the basement sucks. I did learn that hotels don't pay anything and think $950 for a standard room is reasonable. Really? Yes.

Yesterday I spent the day outside, basking in the sun, running errands. I just have to be outside when it's sunny and not humid-- it makes such a difference in my outlook. And considering my Vitamin D levels were a little bit low, it doesn't hurt to get a little sun. I found a great place to have my shoes fixed, and now have almost brand new boots and sandals for less than the cost of replacing them. Nice.

Sunday was glorious. James and I went to the park for a picnic and laid a blanket on the ground, ate grapes and meat and cheese and crackers, then he took a nap and I read. And we just got to be with each other without being on the couch (house poor) or going out (lack of money prevents this). For about $10, we ate and drank and loved each other and got some fresh air. We could have done it even cheaper, but it was a last minute thought, and it was a wonderful way to spend our 11-month anniversary.

Yes, I am still counting the months. We are almost upon a year of our first meeting, and I still can't believe it's true. I just love him so much, and I know he loves me. I am so lucky, he has no problem expressing his emotions, and he's such a mush, we get misty together. He cries, I cry, and we love each other. Life is grand. He is moving in slowly but surely, by the middle of May, he'll be here full time. Wow.

I am decidedly less of a big girl than before. It's been about a year since I have lost anything significant. I am on WW to keep a journal. I figured now that I have about 60-80 pounds to lose, I can do it like everyone else, diet, exercise, and use my pouch as a tool. I no longer have to beat myself up. I go to the meetings, I weigh in, and I listen. I am looking forward to getting to the 10% goal, and hopefully that will be before my birthday. I've gone back to the gym, I've got a plan, and I have some balance.

As for the job search, I go in fits and starts. My expectations have lowered, but I am looking. I don't have a lot of pride when it comes to work, I am looking to be at a great place, where I can make a difference, I make an impact, am valued, can influence others and makes a decent salary. I don't need to be rich, I'd like for both James and myself to be out of debt, and then save for a place of our own.

I think about the future and I see promise. I see lots of promise. So my promise to you is that I will write at least once a week. I have the time, I just avoid it because I feel like this blog was about uncovering myself during weightloss, and then when I stopped losing, there was a failure. But that is not true. I am still uncovering myself, in a beautiful and gentle way. Like I said, there is more balance in my life now than ever. I feel great about that.

So ladies, what's going on with you?

Much love--

Kim

A lot of Time on my hands

2009-02-17T08:53:00.002-05:00

Since I have begun the great job search of 2009, I have a lot of time on my hands. This marks the second morning in a row where I have woken up on the couch with all the lights on. I know I am not taking care of myself-- late night eating, drinking wine, smoking, doing all the things I know better than to do.

I still don't feel depressed that I lost my job. A little sad, upset that I don't have a schedule to adhere to. What I think I hate the most is the vast ocean of time that I have to fill in. Everything feels like an emergency, if there is a job that looks interesting, I get sweaty and start thinking about going back to work in a made up environment with bitchy new boss, and that gets me down. I think the last few weeks of working at that place was a bit of a blow to my ego.

Prior to December, I had a great boss who was understanding, sometimes too much, and I worked hard. I did all my work, and did it well. When the new one came on board, not so much. My time was managed for me, I was no longer doing the same things I had been doing before. And to top it off, I was burned out. I traveled a ton, I worked my little heart out, I didn't take sick days when I was sick, I just worked from home, usually late into the night.

Awww. That's over now.

So I have a lot of time on my hands. And am filling the days.

Today I have chosen to de-tox from the carb monster. And to let go of this old stuff that surrounds me. I have a resume to get into tip-top shape, and after that have a gym appointment, and then have some massive house clearing to do. I want to attack the bathroom first, without going into to much of it, when I clear my bathroom of filth, my world seems better. I can handle things, i don't hold on too much.

I now have the time to track food on fitday. And finish some projects. My days need to be broken up so that I actually go outside for a good portion-- either running errands or just getting out of the house. The stale winter heated air is no good to be in for too long.

I'm doing fine, but on the verge of slipping into a funk. I am pre-empting that with activity. Deadlines. Re-done resume by 1, gym by 2, bathroom cleaned by 4. Music playing no TV. No couch sitting. And drinking my 70 oz of water a day.......

And how are you? I want to thank everyone who gives me support and loves me. Thank you. You make this part go so much easier because I feel like I have a support system.

Keep on moving

2009-02-12T17:41:00.001-05:00

I am hanging in. Smoking on and off. Wanting to quit, not wanting to quit.

It's Valentine's this weekend. I have for the first time ever, a Valentine.

(this is the part when I get the phone call and he breaks up with me)....... nope. The phone is not ringing. He is with me for good.

See, my world doesn't always have to completely fall apart.

Going on interviews, re-doing resumes. Breathing in and out. Applied for unemployment, will start getting that next week. And life goes on.

To the gym in the AM and then dog walking in the afternoon. And then a weekend with Mister.

I'm hanging in. Eating about 1800 cals a day. Not working out as much, but small steps.

What Did I Do?

2009-02-06T17:21:00.003-05:00

Some folks who only know me from blog-space are inquiring, what did I do..... before the job was lost. So here goes.

I, in effect, ran a global training program for an Business Intelligence company that was not the CIA. If it were the CIA, I would still be employed. In fact it wasn't government related at all. I coordinated and managed training events-- from conception (we need a conference in Latin America) to wrap up (And here's three cheers from sunny Mexico City). I worked with experts in the field of investigations and intelligence internally, to get their experience translated to some sort of training-- either with interactive case studies for junior folks, or sales training for consultants for senior folks. I put butts in airplanes, butts in hotels rooms, butts in training rooms. I managed vendors and contracts, hosted cocktail parties, networked at meet and greets, remembered most everyone's name, managed a couple of international teams of admins to help the show run smoothly. I am, by all means, the most connected person at my former company. And everyone who worked with me knows that.

I worked with former CIA, FBI, international journalists, KGB, Secret Service, MI5/6, department of justice attorneys, DA's, think-tank-ers, French Intelligence, Spanish Intelligence, NGO, DEA (I know the guy who brought down Escobar), British Intel, Accountants, Japanese Royal Guards, corporate lawyers, military, investigators, consultants, gum-shoes, etc etc. At any given event, I was surrounded by people who during the cold war or coup were on opposite sides, and now because of my event, were drinking/dancing/laughing/learning together. I know some of the folks I worked with had extraordinary careers and lives prior to the company, and now their knowledge was being transferred to useful applications by me.

In essence, I got to host events, create training, and develop relationships with an extraordinary lot of folks who I will miss tremendously. I have had calls from around the world-- Japan, China, UK, Mexico, Brazil, Colombia, Argentina, etc, etc. I am missed.

I went to lunch with the Big City junior folks today. And I got to say goodbye in my usual fashion. With a drink in one hand, a smile on my face, and I'll see you again soon. I know I will.

And that is what I did. Makes me think I should write about the experiences I had.

Hmmm.

This week

2009-02-05T19:21:00.002-05:00

This week has been both good and terrible. On Monday I rested up from Superbowl with a massive headache (I didn't drink at all) and watched movies. Just had a day off. Then Tuesday I got the news....

"As you know, the economy is bad and we are facing cutbacks. We are eliminating your position."
And so on and so forth.

I was okay until I realized I had to have health insurance. Had to. No questions, absolutely had to. I started bawling. The nicest friend in HR had to go through the package with me, and I feel terrible for her, because this is like the last thing she wanted to do.

So I packed up my things, said goodbye to a lot of people I love and who love me and walked out the doors with my head held high.

Yes, I cried. A lot. I didn't do anything wrong, but damn it felt like it.

Then I made a plan. Working my network, asking for help. Telling my folks wasn't easy, but they are super supportive. Then James came over and I cried and wallowed, but not as much as he expected.

Wednesday I got up, put on tennis shoes, went to the gym and worked out. Then worked my facebook, LinkedIn, my connections. Got phone calls from around the globe-- Tokyo, China, Brazil, London, Mexico City, Buenos Aires, Colombia, Hong Kong. Send resumes out to friends and co-workers for help, advice, consultation. Finally sat down to dinner at 7:30 and on the couch at 8. Fell asleep there.

Woke up Thursday, worked some more connections. Went to a great friend's house and played with her and the baby. Got baby hugs and kisses. Went to Dr. appt #1, got everything I needed there. Bought some candy (mostly sugar free) at Dylan's candy bar, and took the train home.

I feel great. I am not falling apart. Tonight I will Wii. In terms of food, I am doing super great. Eating at meal times, bringing snacks with me. Taking care of myself. And I am down a couple pounds.

I am sad I will not get the chance to see my co-workers turned into friends again. I don't know when I will ever be in far off places again. I am so happy for the ride-- getting to be on the great wall, seeing tango in buenos airies, hitting the disco in Mexico city, eating crossaints in Paris, shopping at Marble arch in London, sipping martinis in Shanghai over the Bund, sailing in Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong, swimming in the Mediterranian Sea in Majorca, sipping wine on the farm in BA, touring the war shrine in Tokyo, throwing plates at the Greek Place in Miami, shooting pool in Chicago, sweating it out in Minnesota, and boot scooting in Nashville. But what a great fucking ride.

Ahh, and life begins again. Thanks for the ping anon. I needed that.

I think I love you

2009-01-30T08:37:00.002-05:00

I went to therapy last night. Just prior I thought it was a very good idea to get some protein in me, so I ate peanuts and m7m's. My own version of trail mix. After 2 handfuls and careful chewing, I got that pressure in my breastbone that is indicative of "I am going to have to puke".

Went to the not quite public bathroom and retched for 30 mins. Stuck my finger down my throat and had this foamy goop come up tasting of peanuts and sweet. As a WLS patient, you don't really throw up like before with amounts of puke-- you are like a cat that has a furball. And nothing feels better than when that crap that is causing the pressure is out.

So, this is time #2 of having regular sugar mixed with protein that had me get sick sick sick. Folks, the pouch is working. It is working. Sugar be gone. It feels terrible to know that I did this to myself, but awesome to say-- that's okay. It's working. Now stop testing the waters and eat in a way that will have you take care of yourself.

I've been writing down all that I have been eating for the week. And I am at about 2100 calories per day. And this was a good exercise to know a couple things. 1) I eat every 2 hours. Not that I am hungry, but that's what I do. Graze. A piece of cheese, a banana, multigrain chips, oatmeal, protein drink, sugar free chocolate bites, half a sandwich, pb and apple. 2) I don't drink enough water, and when I do, it's about 30 mins after the last graze. 3) I drink about 3 cups of coffee a day without even noticing it. 4) I cannot eat 2100 cals a day and think I am going to lose weight.

Project for the weekend and into the week: Eat 3 meals, 1-2 snacks. Keep writing it down. No bites, no tastes. In the "I'm hungry" phase between meals, drink water. Cut the coffee to 1 cup and after the morning cup, tea.

Sunday: Begin 2 week exercise program of 30 mins a day. 3 days Wii, 4 days gym. At the gym, do cardio AND weights. Start working on those muscles. Take one class. Just one.

And then let's write every day. Tell you, my friends how it is going. And then keep on me. If you haven't heard from me in a day, ping me "where are you?".

I know myself well enough to know I cannot be accountable to me. But to you, I bet I can.

Thursday

2009-01-15T07:49:00.002-05:00

Drinking coffee, perusing blogs.

I went shopping last night for bras. As an adult I've ever really only shopped in the plus sized stores. I went back to them to try on the smallest they had. Which fit well, so I bought them there.

The retail sales assistants used to be nicer to me when I was heavier. I asked one why the rack was turned the opposite way-- it wasn't easy to pull the clothes off the rack. And they were jammed. She said that she was following managers orders and that she didn't agree with it as well. When I went to check out, turns out, she is the manager. I pointed that out to her "Oh, so you are the manager?" She looked at me and said "I don't know why people like you shop in here. There are other stores for you."

I wanted to scream back 'I shop here because I am comfortable here. Because I am right on the verge of all of this being too big and it scares me, I have only known these sizes and these styles my whole life. I know how to put together an outfit from your clothes and look amazing, and shopping in the regular sized stores is like walking into the chocolate river room of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. I have no idea where to look, the colors are overwhelming, and what if I pick the wrong thing? What if I go to the river and fall in? What if those sales assistants look at me and ask if I am shopping for someone else? Don't you want my damn money?'

True-- i was being bitchy. It was really hard to pull things off the racks. But c'mon.
I smiled, didn't say anything, and moved on. Maybe she just said it in her head. Maybe she didn't say it at all. Maybe her withering stare will push me to never give them another dime.

I'm in-between. I've been in between for a very long while, and to tell the truth, it's comfortable here. I don't have to be entirely responsible for being a straight size yet, and I can't wear most of the LB things. I hated me when I was bigger-- that girl that really should try another store. However, I am still 100 pounds overweight. So I still have the big girl cred. I don't know if being in-between has me be comfortable or not, it's always just back and forth.

My end point. I want my end point to be 190 pounds. Or thereabouts. That would be another 75 pounds lost. It's not going to make me happier, but it's a goal to achieve. 190.

After surgery, there is still diet and exercise. And dealing with emotions and working on stuff, and being mad that chips are not a food group (I was never a chip eater before) and that no matter how much protein cream cheese has, it's not a meal when it's on a cupcake. I'm a lucky one, I don't dump easily. I in fact try to dump, try to overeat to teach myself a lesson, do a little mental flogging if you will. There is still portion control, and being an adult and saying that's enough right before its too much.

I'm healing. The scars of surgery have faded, but I am still healing. and so I ask of you to keep me in your thoughts, send me good wishes through the ether, and love me as I am. Because right now, it's really hard for me to do that for myself.

Tuesday is Gym Day

2009-01-13T08:57:00.002-05:00

I didn't want to get up this morning.

I put myself to bed last night after having eaten 2/3 of a pumpkin cupcake. Blech. I felt gross, so gross that I spit out the last bite. I laid on the couch for a while watching Intervention-- love that show. Then off to sleepytime.

It was 10:30. Wow.

So this morning I woke up at 6:45 well rested. I got over 7 hours sleep (I read a little before closing my eyes), and felt great. I was talking myself both in and out of the gym.

I realize that when I go to the gym I make it a huge production. I should instead think of it like running to the ATM, or getting stamps. I don't need all this other stuff-- magazine, water, ipod, lock, etc-- if I am just going for 30 mins to do the treadmill. I'm not going on a twenty hour car ride.

Did my 30 mins. Feel good. Drank my coffee, feel even more awake than usual. Jump starting my day is not a bad thing for me. I have more energy and feel stronger.

No promises on when I am going to the gym again. However it's 13 weeks until Easter. So maybe I'll think of a little game to play in the next week or so. Not that Easter is a really big deal, but it might be fun to be born anew when the bunny shows up.

I'm not playing the de-lurking game. I read about 7 blogs a day, and so I will mention them here: Eggface, Melting Mama, Ammie, She's a Rebel/Saint, Elastic Waist (waa!) and two un-WLS related. I check in on others that don't post as much but love to hear what they have to say when they do. Hello all. Comment if you want, but there is no need. Actually, being a reformed actress, I like not being able to see who's out in the audience past the first row or two. Just clap and laugh when appropriate.

Happy Tuesday.

I don't like being fixed

2009-01-10T11:45:00.003-05:00

That sounds strange. I am not fixed like a dog, so no worries there.

I have a friend who gives advice and is constantly telling me how things should be. I know it frustrates me because I do the same thing to other people.

We were having a conversation about her niece who's 12 and overweight, eating out of boredom and although active, not social. My friend is scared that she'll never be accepted because she doesn't dress right, she's sloppy and her fashion sense leaves a lot to be desired. She said "She's overweight and it will just be harder for her to get a boyfriend if she doesn't shape up now."

Now let's dissect this:

She's overweight: yes, she is. And she's active and in sports and not slimming down.

get a boyfriend: what exactly does that mean? She has to go out and get one off the shelf like a rump roast before a storm? That she will not have the chance of being with other 12-15 year old smelly awkward pimply boys that are just out of video games to the real world of girls? Boys that are more interested in fart jokes and guitar hero than pimply faced, too much makeup wearing girls? Or boys that are so horny that all they want to do are things that no one at that age is ready for-- and then perhaps she can be another statistic, because, well, her family thinks that it is more important to have a boyfriend than not, so if that's how she has to keep him, then she will-- or else she'll NEVER GET ANOTHER ONE!!!!

if she doesn't shape up now: so, if she doesn't take her loving aunt's advice, she will be forever reminded of her inability to shape up and that is why she is single, slightly overweight, living alone with her cat as the most important person in her life. Like her aunt. Because it will be TOO LATE.

Okay that was bitchy. But I think her aunt sees her own mistakes in her niece and wants to change them.

Have you ever watched the face of someone realizing that they have just said something so entirely inappropriate to the wrong person? My poor friend. As she's going on about this, I turn and say-- you've just described me.

Scene: about 1984, 5th grade, right after school, septemberish.
My mom picks me up from school, I get an ice cream cone at Mickey D's. Mom asks what was going on at school that day-- Volleyball tryouts. Mom is mad, why aren't you trying out, you like volleyball-- yeah, but that is for the skinny girls, the athletic ones. I'm not that. Maybe if I lose weight I'll do it next year.
Mom tells me to get on my PE uniform and we go back to school. I try out and make the team. I am good. I return home and my forgotten cone has melted all over my dresser.

Up until I write this, I was trying to make my mom the bad guy. I just wanted an ice cream, and she punished me. I mean, she did say some nasty things about weight while I was getting dressed, but that's besides the point. What she did do is not make me "wait until I had lost weight" or let me believe I was anything less than. She didn't encourage, but forced me to participate in sports in junior high. And she was right-- I was good.

I was also the tallest, fattest, fastest kid out there. I always started, and I played every game. I mostly wanted to sit on the bench and talk to the other girls, but NO I had to play.

See, i am trying to make my mom wrong. But wow, thanks mom for getting me out there, regardless of the words you used. I have confidence in my athletic ability and always have-- never letting weight keep me back from wanting to do things. And YOU did that for me. It might have felt like punishment at the time, but because of your belief in me, I can do anything, I am super graceful and I am not afraid to be the first one in the pool!

Anyhow, I tell my friend this and she goes white. Then she asks what would have made a difference for me.

1) Mom saying :
"You know my struggles with weight, and I am concerned that you are going to have the same struggles. The body processes food this way (and explain) and we need less because we are not as active (and explain that watching tv/ playing piano/ sitting on the couch expends x calories, while walking/ bike riding/ etc expends this much). And I need your help. I want to be a good role model for you. And I am afraid I have failed. So will you help me? I will plan meals and portions for us-- and it is going to seem like you are not getting your fair share because daddy and keith get more-- but it's because right now we just need less. You and I will have slow races with dinner-- who can chew their food the longest-- and we'll add up the calories we've expended through the day to see where we are. And then maybe we can cook together and you can plan meals.
Sometimes we will have treats. And when we have treats we can celebrate because treats are special. But if you have them every day, it's no longer special. Maybe once a week you can pick the treat you want, and have it, guilt free. And you can enjoy it. I will do the same, I promise I won't hide chocolate under my front seat of the car and pretend it's not there. It's a bad habit I have.
And regardless if you ever loose weight or exercise, I will love you. I will love you any size and any shape and I hope you will do the same for me. Because I am just trying to be the best mom I know how to be, and I want to be healthy and I want you to be healthy too. You didn't do anything wrong, we are just going to do something different and do it together. We are an unstoppable team. And I love you and am so proud of everything you do."
And then stick to it. If it didn't work out after a month, re-evaluate and talk about it rather than forget it.

2) Dad
"I love you. I know it's tough being a kid. Come over here and let me hold you. I miss you when I am on business. I promise I will stay home more. Do I ever tell you how proud I am of you? No, well i am. You make me so proud to be your daddy. You are my little girl and I love you."

3) Keith
"Do you want to go outside and play? I am sorry I made you cry. I promise I'll stop teasing."

That would have made a difference for me.

I guess what I want to say is that I don't like being fixed. And I am sure my friend's niece doesn't like it either. And I guess rather than treating weight and the abundance of it like a problem that is punishable like a crime, treat the stuff behind it- and then solutions will arise on their own.

Taking my Time

2009-01-09T07:44:00.002-05:00

I have a new boss at work. Without going into too much detail, she's cool, and I like working with and for her. Still bumpy along the road of communication, but it always works out.

She gives me deadlines for things. I like that. She gives me projects and deadlines, and I meet those deadlines. And I give her enough time to review. And work flows smoothly.

Deadlines-- it's about managing time. One thing I started new this year is eating my lunch off of plates. Sure, I am still eating at my desk (a new trend that I will stop next week) but eating off of a plate with a knife fork and spoon. Making my meal a meal, and not something to throw down. This helps me be aware of the food I am eating. And with that, I take lunch from 12:30-1pm (or thereabouts). It's helpful to create that break in the day.

I am vigilant about taking my vitamins, I take them on schedule-- although some mornings I start with calcium and end the day with iron, and the next week switch it up. Planning has always been important to me. And I realize that i do a lot of things willy-nilly-- as they come up.

That's something I want to change. Take my time to figure out a weekly menu, or a schedule for things I know I will have to do (like laundry, mail, bills, etc). Plan meals so I can eat more streamlined.

The best thing of all today, waking up with James. Smiling, happy, warm James who steals all my covers and his hands are the first thing that wake up in the morning. It's like being mauled by a baby bear. I love it.

Off to work. Still smoke free. Feeling great. Dropped a bunch of weight today. Love it.

Getting Even

2009-01-08T08:26:00.002-05:00

Don't get mad, get even.

It's been my motto. Forever. I don't get mad, I get even... "I'll show you" way.
I'm looking at my finances. Not great-- and considering there is no real room for overtime this year, not that great at all. I am going to have to ask for help from mom and dad. I had a tooth pulled last year and a couple crowns that weren't covered that wiped out the equivalents of 3 months salary. They have offered. I will accept. I hate feeling like I can't make it on my own, when I could, but I would just be paying it off slowly. Painfully.

I looked at my bank statement this month-- I have three $10 fees for overdrafts. I called to ask what they were for and this really super nice lady tells me that I need to transfer money so I don't get them again, but she'll waive them for now. Later today I will be ringing up the workplace checking to find out what my checking account benefits are. I left a message for that woman's supervisor telling her that the woman who handled my call was awesome and went above and beyond. That's getting even-- not mad. I could be all sorts of angry, but instead I let someone help and guide me through this, and everything worked out great, and now she gets praise from a customer, which is sometimes better than a bonus.

I challenge you, my readers, to give out the compliments and praise for someone who goes above and beyond in their job. Tell their managers, supervisors. Write letters. There are good people out there that work in customer service jobs and are concerned that they too will be a part of an unemployment line. Your praise might make the difference.

I also challenge you to let someone help you. Ask for help. It's not too hard.

Still feeling sniffly. I'd love to call in sick, but know that I am not really sick enough to do that. I have a bunch of stuff on my plate today and want to take care of it all, and feel like I can do it-- make it happen, so that the weekend can be enjoyed.

Eating well. Staying at about 1100 a day, and walking more. Haven't hit the gym yet, still sicky and giving my body a rest. Saturday begins again. I am giving myself till saturday.

Not smoking. 4 days. And doing great. Feel good, all the toxic stuff is exiting my body. I am looking forward to getting back on the treadmill and running. Breathing really deep.

Time for work. Or at least a shower. My house for the most part is clean and I feel rested. More sorting of crap this weekend-- cleaning out the office. Making room for James. Creating a home.

I love my life today.

Sniffles

2009-01-07T08:34:00.002-05:00

I have had a lingering cold for a week. Or thereabouts. Sore scratchy throat, snotty nose, headache. It hasn't been terrible, just annoying.

Yesterday was the worst of it. Also, I was just weepy. Weepy and mad over being a smoker who is a non-smoker again, disappointed in "it's not enough" weight loss, sad that I have to spent my time thinking about what nutrition to put in my mouth. I thought that was all done with, but no, it's like having about a year off from thinking about food. It was a glorious year.

And then James. I'm walking down the street going into work, not smoking, but furiously chomping nicorette (yay me) and I realize something. I am afraid to love him anymore than I already do, because when he's not there anymore, it will kill me. I will be devastated. This is after reading about the woman who lost her finance the day before the wedding to a car accident and other such stories. For the first time, I thought, what if that happened to me, or to him?

It was like a light turned on. You love him so much and are so happy that you are afraid that you are going to lose him, so you don't want to love him expotentially anymore, because right now it would hurt, but anymore love poured into each other it would kill, torture and maime you. You would never get over it. The loss would be so severe that it is better to stop now and not get hurt.

It was like a record scratched against the needle. I heard my own thoughts and that little voice in my head that said Get Out Now.

Ummmm.

Stop-- Kimmie time.

WTF? Give up a day with him, give up an hour with him, give up a lifetime to be safe and not feel the highs and lows together? Stop loving him so much to get the security of never having to feel something tragic or beautiful or lovely? Hurt him now to save my own potential hurt later?

I realized something so beautiful. That voice in my head wants to protect me. She tells me to stop loving so much, like she tells me chips are okay, have another drink, try this piece of chocolate, carrot cake is good for you, you can survive without the raise, one cigarette won't hurt, maybe you aren't good enough, etc. She wants to keep me safe from all those things that are too scary, too harmful, too vulnerable, and she never wants me to feel anything but secure. She's a mother to that little girl in me who is scared and looking for guidence. She only wants to protect. She wants me to survive-- that voice created to keep myself out of trouble and tucked away so that I don't make too much of a big deal.

It's too bad that voice clamoring around in my head just got found out. Now I am on the hunt. I'm looking out for her opinions on my life, habits and journey that would have me be safe and secure. It's not that I don't want to be safe, but when I am going through life out of fear of something, and making decisions based on that, I am not living and thriving-- only surviving.

After I realized that, my heart was just filled with love, for me, for James. For the world. For everyone that is scared, everyone that gets in their own way. For survivors. For everyone with and without that voice.

Sniffles.

So it's the cold, a little bit. It's also the pride. I am so damn proud of me and what I have done and what I am doing and what I will accomplish in the future. Identifying the voice, a very good step along the way.

Happy Wednesday.

Something New

2009-01-06T08:10:00.002-05:00

Thanks for the love folks.

Yesterday I went smoke free. No one was injured.
I made it back to work and got things accomplished. Again, no one was injured.
I realized I eat about 2500 calories a day without even thinking I am eating anything at all. Slight injury to my ego.

Ouch. No wonder I am gaining/ staying the same.

So, for me to lose and be in a healthy range, I should eat between 800-1200 cals a day. I have signed up on fit day to track food. I have to remember all those licks and tastes and bites are FOOD=Calories. I eat the equivalent of 1 WLS meal while preparing my meal.

And now that I realize I am doing it-- it's done.

I was on the Wii Fit this morning at 6:30am. I went to bed last night at 10:30pm. I don't feel tired, but instead refreshed. Add sleeping 8 hours to the list of good habits.

This week, I am focusing on monitoring my habits. What it is I am doing. There is no race, I have to get it out of my head that I am in some kind of countdown of weightloss. This surgery is forever, it is up to me to use it appropriately. Why yes, there are so many shoulds, however, for today I am monitoring, doing what it is I know to do.

A year ago I hadn't eaten chocolate. Yesterday I gave away a box at work. Just because it fits/ is at a discount/ given to me doesn't mean I have to buy/eat/ wear it. I can make my own choice, a conscienous choice.

That's what it is, choosing conscienously. Being present to what it is I am doing or about to do.

Lesson for the day, be present. Be smoke free day 2. Be the best Kim I can be.

Begin Again

2009-01-05T08:33:00.002-05:00

I would like to say this whole process of having surgery is easy.
Actually, the easiest thing about being a post-op is having the surgery.

Late at night all I want to do is eat. Anything. butter on mashed potatoes, cheese with crackers, sweets, and drink it all with water. Have a few sips of soda, maybe a cookie, some more coffee.

A year ago I got back my hunger. I have been 4 months not being hungry. Now my head hunger has returned, and wow she's pissed.

She's so pissed that she can't be numbed by food. So she tricks me. "Just one bite, these cookies are to share, you need this, this will taste good." She has my boyfriend in agreeance. He is so confused, one minute I am going to the gym, the next I am smoking and ordering pizza. One party I am water with lime, the next I am jack and diet.

I don't have any significant health problems or complications. I shouldn't be bitching, but it is my process, right? I can make all sorts of lists of what to do, what not to do, how I am going to fix the problem. But it all comes down to me.

Weight isn't the problem. I have lost over 100 pounds and kept it off for a year. Food isn't the problem, it doesn't leap from the fridge into my mouth, or off the shelf into my cart. I am the problem. I make choices to not "think" about what I am doing. It's like there are two compartments to my brain-- the one that does everything right, and the one that wants to hide and be sneaky.

So here I am. 270.6 pounds. 1/5/08. My intention is to be under 200 by August 2nd-- my 2 year surgiversary. I have been as low as 262 in June, but have stayed about the same for 7 months. I haven't been to the gym since early November, started smoking, ate whatever I wanted whenever I wanted for the last 5 months. And I call that complete.

Today, I become a non-smoker.
Today, I exercise.
Today, I breathe.
Today, I live.
Today, I eat for nourishment.
Today I write to regain that feeling of purpose. Of accountability.

And I thank you. For listening. For being my angels. For loving me just as I am. For not making judgements. For hearing my story.

Today I begin again. Better, bolder, wiser, stronger. Lovingly. No memories of the past, just creating the future that is to be.

Happy Monday.

Oh, Fudge

2008-12-23T17:57:00.002-05:00

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.

A Tree

2008-12-15T10:29:00.002-05:00

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.

Family and Love and a little bit of Rock

2008-11-11T07:57:00.002-05:00

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.

No more 5 day pouch test

2008-10-22T14:48:00.002-04:00

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.

Feeling good

2008-10-15T07:51:00.002-04:00

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.

Monday morning

2008-10-13T08:25:00.002-04:00

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.

Yahoo Group

2008-10-09T16:55:00.003-04:00

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.

After Yoga Morning

2008-10-09T00:26:00.002-04:00

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.

Yoga Morning

2008-10-07T09:20:00.002-04:00

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

Don't Vote. Unless You Care.

2008-10-01T23:58:00.003-04:00

God Bless Sarah Silverman. And take it as you wish.

Fessing up.

2008-09-30T23:59:00.003-04:00

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.....

Blasting from the pasting

2008-09-27T10:08:00.003-04:00

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.

How to gain three pounds in one day

2008-09-26T08:19:00.002-04:00

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.

Never miss an opportunity....

2008-09-25T08:49:00.002-04:00

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!

Back to the Gym

2008-09-24T07:20:00.002-04:00

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.

3 month stall

2008-09-23T08:25:00.002-04:00

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.

No excuses

2008-09-13T09:08:00.003-04:00

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.

It's been a long, been a long, been a long day!

2008-07-30T08:06:00.002-04:00

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.

Jet Lag Sucks

2008-07-18T05:35:00.002-04:00

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.

Airplane food

2008-07-06T09:26:00.002-04:00

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.

One Down

2008-06-27T18:45:00.002-04:00

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.

Big Big Trip

2008-06-21T12:25:00.002-04:00

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!

And the real reason

2008-06-19T08:11:00.003-04:00

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.....

Beyond Expectations

2008-06-19T07:34:00.003-04:00

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.

On 35

2008-06-14T10:09:00.003-04:00

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.

	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.

Ouch

2008-06-13T10:08:00.002-04:00

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.

Good Decisions

2008-06-08T08:49:00.002-04:00

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.

Time Well Spent

2008-06-02T07:30:00.002-04:00

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.

Taking Care of myself

2008-05-28T08:24:00.002-04:00

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.

About a year ago

2008-05-27T08:42:00.002-04:00

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.

Completeing May

2008-05-26T09:15:00.002-04:00

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.

Response to Myspace Postings

2008-05-21T17:16:00.002-04:00

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

Two down

2008-05-20T12:03:00.002-04:00

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.

NOTICE (me)

2008-05-09T07:41:00.002-04:00

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.

When I say Ouch you say it Feels like Love

2008-05-08T00:03:00.003-04:00

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.

Two months

2008-05-07T08:32:00.002-04:00

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.

NOTICE

2008-05-06T08:21:00.003-04:00

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.

Completing April

2008-05-06T08:13:00.002-04:00

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.

Although I say "It's better than Cats" it's really not.

2008-04-20T11:55:00.002-04:00

This is.....

New Haircut

2008-04-19T11:47:00.004-04:00

As a whoo-hoo for 100 pounds gone, and the start of something much healthier and fabulous, I got a grown up haircut.

It's pretty. It's stylish. It will never look like this again (after I wash it, it will curl and be short, and I will not know what to do, and I will probably cry). But for now, it's gorgeous.

Grown-Up

2008-04-19T10:42:00.002-04:00

I had a date last night, kissed a cute boy in a bar for a couple hours. It was nice.

I was a total grown-up. I kissed, I had fun, but I felt no need to go home with said cute guy. He put on the full court press. I apparently outmaneuvered him.

When did it become okay for men to be disgusting on a first date? He was so pissed that I wouldn't go back to his place, and that I wouldn't let him come to mine that he said "I mean, you are really cute, and I had fun, but if you won't do (insert potentially degrading thing here) with me, then I don't know if this is going to work. I don't want a dead lay."

Oh yes, he really said that. ON A FIRST DATE.

I apologized (I apologized???) for not being interested in potentially degrading thing on the first date. I was no longer interested, and I went over to D's for a great night with the opera singers. And he went home to degrade his hand and potentially the face of another really pretty girl in a magazine.

Ahem.

I am looking to meet an attractive, single, tall-ish (over 5'9) man, with a job he likes, who is intelligent, funny, kind, generous, well-traveled (or at least knows about the world outside of his bubble), loyal and honest, who knows when to be a gentleman and when to be less than a gentleman. I am not looking for a Havard grad, nor am I looking for someone who is married to their job (or married at all. Did I say single, I mean single). Just a nice, normal-ish man who has boy qualities (likes to play, likes to have fun, likes to watch sports and hang out with the guys) and who has man-qualities (respects others, plays fair enough, pays bills on-time, knows his limit and respects others boundaries) and who wants to meet a sassy, smart, well-traveled, well-spoken, respectful ball of fire like myself.

Anyone.....? Anyone....?

Romantic songs notwithstanding.....

2008-04-17T08:17:00.002-04:00

"....It takes emotional maturity to be capable of showing consistent, enduring love."

I read these words in my little white book today because I am looking for some kind of spiritual support. Because the last few days have been very busy, and good busy, but busy nonetheless. Our office is moving, and as much as I like change, I like change RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW than to drag it out slowly.

This just rings true to me. It takes an emotionally mature person to show love. Love, not romantic love, but love is what I am seeking in the bottom of that bag of cookies. As if that last one will have all the love I need for the day. I took my vitamins, and now I take my daily dose of love from the cookies, the chips, the other half of my breakfast wrap, the bottom of my coffee, etc. I can't decide when I am full, and then my body tells me-- too much, too fast and I throw up. I don't throw up often, but enough to know "You know better than this".

Yesterday I planned meals for 50-70 people for a conference that is two weeks away. Today I will do the same in Spanish for a conference 4 weeks away. I am trying to accommodate everyone's needs-- no cheese, no meat, no pork, no carbs-- and give them something for everyone. Everyone's needs but mine, because my need was to leave work at a decent hour, not eat a protein bar for lunch and go to the gym at 6:30. When I came home at 8, I had fantasies of chicken parm, chicken in lemon wine sauce, garlic cheese bread, and for sure I was going to order. I was going to order from the place down the street, eat my face off and then sleep well.

I took a moment. And thought about what I was doing. The bread takes up too much room in my pouch, the chicken will be good but too greasy, and oh-- YOU'RE NOT EATING CHEESE. Damn damn damn. I made a commitment to myself on the fools day, and I am not giving up.

I haven't been straight about my workouts-- from April 1 I have worked out 8 times. At the gym. And twice walking/ other activity. I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to do it right and be perfect, so shake up the etch-a-sketch, hit replay, power off power on, start over again. But no, it's not about starting over.

Where I am at right now is in the crosshairs of the bullseye. Underneath all the bravada of my words (Gym, Church, NO FRIGGEN CHEESE) is my desire to uncover, identify and release the behaviors that keep me in a state of "I'm not good enough" or "I'm not worth it". So here is a pattern. I start. It's perfect. Life gets in the way, I get tired, I don't want to. I do it anyways, then life really gets in the way. I don't, but go back, and maybe even lie about it. (Yes, those stairs are a workout, yes, swimming for 15 mins is a workout). Mainly lying to myself. Then I stop, but just for a rest, just for a day. Then life again (always ever encroaching on my fun) barges in and brings responsibilities with it. Son of a biscuit. So I go TOO BUSY< TOO BUSY and sit on the couch for a couple hours. Sleep more. Eat more. Stop being present to what I am eating. And it's now two days later, and I am tired and scared of the gym again.

Those skinny people really hate me for running on the treadmill. No really, every time I run, and they are walking, they go up just one more level to run. It's beautifully obvious.

Underneath all that-- I notice that I am the one that says how it is going. It doesn't mean anything that I can't keep my word to myself. I am starting again every day. I don't want to be the woman who paints a bulleye around her arrow and goes "I meant to do that". Because that's my friggen life. I haven't exercised every day, I am making it mean that I can't keep my word, that I can't keep a commitment, that I am not important enough to put myself first. And that covers up that no matter what I do, it won't make a difference, and I will always be this way, and I will gain weight back/ not loose anymore and I will have failed. That I am not enough, and that no matter what I do I am doomed.

I am scared, I am alone. I am not communicating. I feel crazy and sick. I am very tired and just want to pull the covers over my head and go back to bed. I VANT TO BE ALONE-- and I need to be around people. I am so lonely and doing this all by myself. I am angry and pointing the finger at anyone who is in my path.

Other people think I am crazy because I am doing so well, I am being inspirational, but they are just waiting for it to fall apart-- or have me fall apart. They are confused and annoyed. They have no idea on how to support me, because I am hiding all this crap. They are concerned, but if they show it, i will bite their hands/ heads/ feet off. And then eat a bag of chips, have a brownie, eat some cheese. They love me but can't show it, an dare scared to have the bigger conversations. They want fun Kim back, but she's gone.

I'm done with this. I can give up the alone, the crazy, the angry and just be where I am at. I can give up the idea of perfection, because I am perfect right where I am.

I invent the possibility of being a grown up. Because it takes emotional maturity to consistently show enduring love. And I am reflecting it all back on me first. I have to love myself, and treat each action as a love letter to me.

Being a grown up will have me live into a future that is bright and mature. I can still play little kid games, but that little kid doesn't run my life.

Emotional Maturity. Look into it.

5K

2008-04-13T22:35:00.003-04:00

Who did a 5K today?

Yup. I did.

It wasn't outside, and it was not for a cause (unless "reduce Kim's ass" is some cause that someone is raising money for, but I doubt it) but on the treadmill , and it took me just under one hour, but I did it. I did it. And for part of it I ran (like 4 minutes of it) but it wasn't because I thought I should, but because I wanted to. My body was like "Okay, now we run" and off I ran.

That was cool.

Then my heart and lungs and knees said "Wait, stop, slow down a bit, umm, oww" and so I did. But I pushed a little first.

So the 30 day challenge is still going. I took a couple days off. I'm not beating myself up about it. Okay, I am a little bit, because why can't I be perfect and do perfect things and start the things I want to finish and vice versa. I guess it's part of the perfect make-up that's me.

5K today. And then tea with dear fabulous friends and then raise a toast to Mills, and then walk 25 blocks to almost home, and then grocery shopping and then home.

I feel really good. I feel really relaxed and very happy that I have had a weekend to just be and be relaxed. And get my nails done and talk to family and friends and finish my taxes and mail and whatnot. And take naps, long glorious naps.

Life is good. I walked a 5K. I might do it again this week.

Day 9

2008-04-10T08:38:00.002-04:00

And today, she rested.

When I got up this morning, I knew I was on for a very busy day at work and in life. And permission has been granted to sleep in on day 10 and not work out. However, that being said.....

The escalator at 51st and Lex-- you know the big giant long escalator? 3 stories down? Yeah, it was out. So climbing ensued. 104 steps. Sweaty at the top of the stairs,a nd yet so proud that I did it without too much pain. Yeah me!

Walked to the subway and home from the subway. The long way home from the subway.

Fell asleep after yummy meal (3 nights in a row) of Boston Market. I got a meal for 3 on Sunday night, and have had it every night but Tuesday. Tuesday I treated myself to dips and cucumbers at the Greek place down the street. I just ripped the rest of the chicken off the bone and I have over 3/4 of it left. Chicken corn chowder for the weekend! Yahoo!

Today will be gym tonight, treadmill/elliptical. And then tomorrow morning a workout and tomorrow night a workout (30 min abs). Long walks on Saturday and Sunday.

I don't have a spring jacket right now. All my jackets are too big, which I don't mind, but I would like to have a lighter jacket that I can wear for my walks. I did get some very cute clothes from Torrid (sale, all on sale) the other day. I am wearing a size 16 dress. Even in Plus-- I haven't worn that size since very early high school. Very early-- like freshman year. I do have to get some more work pants (I have 2 pairs) because I have conference season coming up and I'll be honest, I don't have enough clothes to last through a week without laundry.

This is not a complaint. Well, maybe a little one.

I broke through the plateau. Yeah me!

Day 7 and 8

2008-04-08T08:28:00.003-04:00

Yesterday morning I was an elliptical girl for 30+ minutes. I give myself a little bit of an extra push-- I set up for 40, but I really only want to do 2 miles. So then I see how fast I can do 2 miles. And I did it in 31 minutes. Feeling good.

Yesterday I had an ultimate breakdown at work. I can't tell if it's just overwhelm, or I haven't had a chance to recharge, or what, but I'm three weeks away from one conference, six from another and I feel like nothing has been done. I know a lot has been done, but I don't trust yet. So today I decided that a 6:30 am yoga class would help.

Yup. That's me, going to bed at 10pm to get up at 6am to get to yoga class. And you know what, it might have helped. Except my wrists aren't strong enough to hold me up, and halfway through the class the instructor came over to me in the kindest way and rubbed my back "You are doing a great job."

And I sobbed. Right there in my modified child's pose, I just sobbed.

I'm doing the absolute best I can.
I surrender to the struggle.
I don't know how to win this game.
I can't remember why I want to win.
I am breathing.
I love life and the journey it is taking me on.
I am loved and loved again.
I am doing the best that I can.
There is no such thing as perfect.
There is no such thing as perfect.
There is no such thing as perfect.

How did this stranger know I just needed a little human contact and a moment of clarity and acknowledgment? Thank you stranger yoga teacher.

In my 'For Today' book I read these words.....
To do what others expect, so they'll love me, is to play it safe.

I've been doing this for years. I really heard a message from my aunt the other night-- learn the lesson, live your live, we go around once, make you happy.

Safe is limiting. Safe is "being good". Safe is being reliable. Safe is overcompensating. Safe is being generous. Safe is worrying what others think.

There have been unsafe moments-- it is entirely unsafe for me to go to the gym every day and work out in front of skinny people who hate me. It is entirely unsafe to be bored, say that I am bored and leave. It is unsafe to tell a friend "here's the boundary.". It's unsafe to have mom commit to a time to come into the city and hang out. And perhaps even spend the night. That's really unsafe.

I don't want to be hated, but I can no longer play the game of "love me, please". I can just be a good person, work on my journey and keep one foot in front of the other. Keeping my integrity, I have faith that God and the universe that works through Him will provide something magical.

Amen.

And to work.

Day 4-6

2008-04-07T06:19:00.002-04:00

I had to do a site visit over the weekend at a really nice place in Jersey. They had a pool, and so there was lots and lots of swimming. Not in the normal exercise swimming way-- not like laps and whatnot, but in running in the water, treading water, getting my heart rate up and doing a lot of bouncing.

I love bobbing in the water. I feel so soft and jiggly and it's the only time I like the soft and jiggly bits.

Day 5 was waling all over this complex looking at rooms, meeting space, etc. Again, nice. I was going to do "a legitimate workout" with running and treadmill and stretching, but decided that the walking was enough. It was 30 minutes of continuous movement.

I had an awesome massage. Deep tissue. Today I still hurt. Massage is so important to me, it wakes up my muscles and makes me feel great and loved. Someone else touching my skin has me clearly define the outline of my body. While on the table, I just breathe and let go over and over and over again. Let go of past traumas, let go of nasty somments, let go of the to-do list in my head. It's dreamy.

Yesterday, still having the car, I went to Target and was a very happy consumer. I loaded up on Propel water, mini muffin pans (for those Eggface bites), and the necessities that I usually don't get a chance to get because 1) too heavy to carry and 2) no room in the kitchen. Now I have room in the kitchen and a car (for the weekend) so away I shopped. I turned in my old printer at Staples and got a new one. It's sitting in the box still. I'll set that up tonight.

This morning I have to move the car and will go to the gym early. The elliptical for the morning, just to try something new. (Thanks Cousin).

Day 3

2008-04-04T07:48:00.002-04:00

C. and I went to her gym and swam. I think I swam for all of about 15 minutes, but I swam. Not entirely hard, and it was crowded, but the kinks in my legs are almost gone, and I slept like a baby last night.

After the gym, I headed up to Broadway and saw Legally Blonde. I thought I would hate it. I loved it. It was pee your pants funny, and the girl who is Elle Woods is brilliant. And a dynamo! One scene I laughed so hard I actually did wet myself. But just a little.

If your sense of humor goes towards the obnoxious, this is your musical. (Sabrina, you'll love this-- get the music now!)

Thank you to S. for inviting, and to her fabulous friend for being great. I love the CD. I can't wait to see your own show!

I started to write a thing to Cousin regarding my slump. I have hit a number that I distinctly remember in high school, and can't move beyond it. I think energetically it is holding me back. When in high school, this number showed up around sophomore year, and that is when I started to discover and uncover boys, started to realize who I was. I had always known myself as fat, but I didn't realize that it left me out of doing certain things. In grammar school, I was left out of the "dating" (if it could be called that in 8th grade) because there were 21 girls and 11 boys. So really, I was in a good group of girls that had un-requited crushes on boys that didn't deserve my attention. Really, I liked those guys (Keith, Patrick, Stephen)? C'mon!

Then high school hit, and the first year was all about being acclimated. Just getting a group of girlfriends. Then second year, boys. Julie (one of my best girlfriends) was going out with Jeff, and that was weird because I kind of liked him too, and then I had crushes on so many boys. But as always, like back in grammar school, I didn't do anything about it. And I kept feeling like I was supposed to know how to interact with them and be forward, but I just didn't. Boys were competition for grades in school. Then while talking to one of my former crushes, he said his mom calls him "Compassionate" because he is my friend. I look up compassionate.

No one should ever feel sorry for me. I was enraged.

We didn't speak much after that. I thought evil things about his mom. I still do.

Another someone hinted that I would be better off thinner. My brother pulled me into his room and told me in no uncertain terms that unless I lost weight, I would be the fat girl at school. It didn't matter what my personality was, I would just be known as the fat girl. I didn't speak to my brother for 6 months after that. He didn't notice. Neither did my mom or dad.

I still kind of hate my brother for his brutal honesty. However, I was going to show them, so I became:
1) Junior Class President. I ran against the pretty girls, and won.
2) Second lead in every musical: Character actress, and the reason to go see the shows. People still talk about it today (thanks Sabrina!).
3) Junior City Council: I ran youth commission for my city for almost 1 year.
4) Camp Counselor: I worked at a really popular leadership camp and had the most clean fun you can have in a week.
5) Pretty dang popular. Everyone still knows who I am. I am unmissable. A force to be reckoned with.

I'm not sure if people knew me as the fat girl. People knew me as Kim. I dressed well, I spoke well, I was kind and generous. I was funny and could be mean. And I was fat. I do care how I was perceived, but not enough for it to matter.

So I'm back to that weight. And it has a hold on me. And I am looking at things I can let go of to move beyond the weight.

1) I don't really hate my brother. I wish he had shown me some compassion and encouraged me in a different way. And that he didn't get checked out with drugs and alcohol. He was my role model on how boys should act, and he was having sex with his girlfriend all the time, and I wasn't ready for that at all. So if boys wanted sex, and I was a very smart good Catholic girl, then I couldn't talk to boys.

2) I wish things would have be different at home. There was a lot of traveling and a lot of drinking. I didn't have someone to go to and say "I'm confused, what should I be doing" because I got teased a lot by my folks. They meant it lovingly, but it didn't help me-- I am a sensitive flower. I stayed in my room or went out a lot after 9pm.

3) I felt like emotionally I was on my own. I did have support, but I didn't know how to ask for it. More hugs would have been nicer. Less yelling would have been good. I absolutely felt like I couldn't trust the people who put me to bed every night because of the alcohol, but could trust the ones that woke me up in the morning.

I can let that go. I can't change the past, or how it has been perceived by me, but I can let it go. I am not that freshman that can't fit into the costume, I am not that sophomore going to weight watchers with her dad, I am not that girl getting up at 5:30am to go to the gym for two weeks and then abandoning it. I am not that person who wishes for "whatever may come" I make things happen. I am an almost 35 year old grown woman who is taking care of herself, who knows how to talk to men (and boys) and who is in a weight slump. And she is going to workout all those demons that are hanging on to this particular number.

I feel much better now.

DAY 2

2008-04-03T07:59:00.003-04:00

Yesterday, I was feeling particularly good-- like I could take on the world. And I left work late (again, so what's new)-- mainly because my favorite guy is leaving the company in a couple weeks and I am sad sad sad that I won't be able to share anymore ridiculous stories with him while on the way out the door.

Ahh. Not quite office boyfriend. Goodbye!

But I got home at 7:15 and was at the gym at 7:30, ready for my first Club Strength class. You know, the one where you lift weights and put them down and up again, with bars and barbells and "8 more, seven-- down down, six-- down down," etc etc. I took that class. Since I had no idea what I was doing, I asked a girl in line "will you be my swim buddy?" and she said yes!

I am that cool!

She helped me get set up, helped with the weights, smiled at appropriate times when I was farting and lunging and squatting my way through the course. Oh yes, I totally tooted at least three times. When we went into cat pose, I aimed my keister towards the back of the room, so at least no one would pass out from the fumes. I can't help it people, I fart, and there is no holding it back.

At the end of the class I told the instructor it was my first class like that-- she was surprised-- "You kept up really well. Good job, I'll see you next week." Yay me. Although, I totally did the modified version of everything, but to be honest, I didn't care. I made it through a whole class and didn't feel like the dumb one in the back.

Walking home my legs felt like jello, my body already started to break down, and honestly I feel like I have to flu. But it's just the lack of muscle tone. It'll get better.

I woke up at 4:30 am with a raging headache and parched for water. I fell back asleep for a couple hours, but not enough to feel completely rested. And I feel like a tight rubber band. Remember having braces and getting the headgear or the bands tightened? That's what my whole body feels like.

Laying in bed between 4:30 and 7:00, I realized Maddie is gone. I've put her down somewhere, because instead of feeling sad all the time, I am angry and always feel like I am missing something. I am not sure if she will come back, but energetically, I can't feel her face, I can't feel her weight around my middle. I do miss that protection. Wherever you are, goodnight pretty girl!

Day One

2008-04-02T14:22:00.002-04:00

I tried to be good and leave work at 6 and go work out. And I did work out, but i left work at 7:45 instead. 45 minutes on the treadmill and 5 minutes of running.

I woke up this morning with sore knees. And a sore back. And I didn't quite follow my food plan, but I only ate one chocolate bar instead of four. And no cheese.

No cheese. A whole day with no cheese. Whoo-hoo. And I put my FiberSure in both my half-caf and soup, so I am armed and dangerous.

Today, I am leaving at 6pm. And to the gym. And potentially a yoga or stretch class to get the balance.

So far, so good.

April Fools

2008-04-01T07:54:00.002-04:00

Today I promise not to be a fool.

I got back, and started immediately reading my email. I saw that my local yoga place was offering an opportunity to commit to a month of yoga. No prizes or incentives, other than "how would it feel with your new muscles, with your new balanced outlook, with you being your word." Although the prospect of all month yoga is terribly exciting, I would rather play my own game.

Here are the rules. This is for one month only.

1) Work out for a normal time everyday. This does not mean "the five minute walk to the subway" is a workout. This means workout clothes on, going to either the gym or for a fitness walk. Shopping is not working out as of yet. For me, normal is between 35-45 minutes and includes stretching.

2) If I happen to miss I day, I can go in the morning and in the evening to double up. Any more of that is just crazy.

3) I commit to this for one month-- I have a conference the week of April 28, but let's bring it on-- working out and conferencing. A whole new world.

4) 5 classes-- take on at least one fitness class a week to see what else is out there. I've gotten so boring in the treadmill/bicycle. I want to try yoga, kickboxing, weights, aerobics, water workouts, etc. Something new and different. It will be like recess.

At the end of this month, I want to drop another size and at least 15 pounds on the scale. At this point in my "golden period" I shouldn't be at the same weight I was a month ago, and I can feel carbs coming back in, and the excuses to have them. So along with the work out game, I also pledge:

1) 3 meals a day, 1 snack. This means no protein powder in coffee unless that is part of a meal or a snack, no late night crunching on the couch.

2) Reduce the amount of cheese I consume. I eat an enormous amount of full fat, very flavorful cheese. I can get by with a wedge or four out of my daily routine.

3) Plan dinner at breakfast. Meaning make dinner before hand so I am not coming home to eat through my fridge as I "make" dinner.

4) Measure out my food. No more eyeballing it. Lately I have had some concern about eating too much, and this is a way to remember what a portion should be.

5)Therapy, Support group or a meeting. My choice. Once a week to get the emotional/spiritual stuff excised.

I am really excited about this new game. It feels like clean living, clean eating. A spring cleaning for the insides and out. Anyone else want to join me?

And really, this is no joke. This is my life we are talking about here. My determination to stick with something for an entire month may actually create the space for something extra-ordinary to happen. Like getting my self confidence back in check.

M-I-A-M-I

2008-03-27T06:02:00.003-04:00

I'm headed to FL for some business and some pleasure. I had to leave work early-ish yesterday so I could pick up my laundry and pack, which I haven't really done. My two smaller suitcases are broken, and the other one was given away to ladies from Afganistan. No really, it was.

I'm volunteering (if being on one phone call and giving a piece of luggage is called that) for an organization that partners women in war ravaged countries with women in the US to create business partnerships. The idea is that women are an overlooked minority of building infrastructure after times of chaos. These women are building small businesses-- print shops, scarves, soccer ball assembly, tea stands-- in the hopes to provide a base of capital for other women to be business owners, and so on and so on. I never think about these women who have to pick up their lives after their husbands or children have been killed/wounded-- and they have nothing.

It's a powerful call.

So instead of bitching about my suitcase that now lives in Kabul, I'll instead suck it up and carry a non-rolly bag. I am carrying less clothes these days, only one pair of shoes. The nice part about traveling in the US is that if necessary, I can go shopping. If I am missing anything, I can go get it somewhere. Last trip, it was Spanx and lipstick. This trip, potentially hairspray and razors...... and maybe a new pair of smaller jeans.

I do have to say, I'm tired of traveling for right now. I want a weekend at home. I need to go through mail and do my taxes and fall asleep on my couch-- along with watching all the programs I've DVR'ed over the last two weeks. Maybe even see my friends. Or at least return their calls (hi Ms. M-- I got your message. I have photos.)

I am renting a car. I am not going to drive thru any coffee place. And yes, I am getting the extra insurance.

Have a happy week-end. See you on Sunday.

Coffee Fix

2008-03-17T22:15:00.002-04:00

In California, feeling great. And a little vulnerable because I am feeling little like a turtle without my shell. Because sometimes I don't know how to be with mistakes.

Note: Today was a perfect day. I woke up rested, went to lunch with A. after long conversations and whatnot, then Kohl's (I fit into an xl jacket. I have no idea who I am.). On the way back to her house, I need my coffee fix.

We pull into the coffe place. Literally. I gave them a drive thru. Because as I was slowing, my car sped up and blammo, into the window. Yes mom, people dove for cover.

I am shaken. I am not hurt in anyway, except my ego. I am already feeling very delicate and prickly and this happens and I want to scream out why me and bob and weep in a corner and just wake up tomorrow and hope it was all some fucked up Dallas type dream.

But it's not. No one's hurt. I am shaken and stirred however I am not hurt. Emotioanlly fragile like a puffer flower. Without my shell.

A. is taking care of me. We watched Intervention and I had Mexican for dinner. Soon I will be curled up with a kitty on my lap and will go to bed after a nice long bath and tuck myself in and go get back into the drive thru car tomorrow to head back to the beach and then sit on a couch bobing and weaving and thinking and eventually come back to NYC and not drive for a while.

Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay. Everyone please tell me everything will be okay. Because right now I feel like I can't breathe and feel so stupid and sad and everything.

Ahh. Happy vacation.

To California

2008-03-15T06:19:00.003-04:00

To baby C's wedding. And a week off.

That's right, I said a week off. A whole week. I am talking sun, sand, ocean breezes, and napping. I am talking about everything sans mittens, scarves, socks and sensible shoes.

I am busting out the flipflops.

I am so excited for baby C. Happy beautiful wedding and soon to be wifey! Ahhh.

Oh, it's dark o clock, have to catch my plane!

Praising the Support Group

2008-03-13T08:41:00.002-04:00

Last night was my monthly meeting. I've only been to two, so it's a miracle that I went last night. Because I was pissy and tired and cranky and really really overworked (and quite possibly underpaid, however, that is an entirely separate subject not to be discussed here).

Anyhow, I book it over to 2nd ave to take a cab downtown. Walking the one block is so easy. I used to hate walking the avenue, "it takes so long, it's hot/cold, my feet hurt, I am carrying all this stuff". I've realized that I carry much less stuff with me these days. If it doesn't fit in my purse, it doesn't go. And my pockets stay empty. Metrocard and iPod aside, there is nothing in my pockets. Except for that something that belongs across my face...... I keep it very close at hand, in the most convenient place.....(c'mon Girl Scouts, sing out and sing proud).

I find a cab. I patiently wait for snarky overpaid New Yorkers to get out of the cab. 45 mins later (well really three) they get out and we head down. And I am praying. "Please God, grant me peace and wisdom. Do not let me shoot my mouth off because really right now I want to just absolutely die and take everyone with me. Actually I don't want to die as much as I just want to kill on sight and I need patience. So please grant me some friggin patience, and let me know that I am doing just fine."

I don't know what your God is like, but mine is slightly Italian, emotionally stingy and deaf. She/he understands that cussing while praying adds emphasis. It's the equivalent of a couple hail mary's and a glory be.

The support group is awesome. There are 7 folks there-- all of them over 45 years old-- most in their late 50's early 60's. All of them 3-8 years out. And after group we go to dinner. And we talk about our lives, and tell stories. And it's really a wonderful thing.

Not only am I the youngest one in there, I am the youngest by surgery date. I have all these mother hens that want to tell me what to do, and I just soak it all up.

I'm learning from these folks. Most have bounced up by about 20-50 pounds, some higher. They have war stories to tell. They go to TOPS and weight watchers and meetings at the twelve step. Some are still mad at husbands they divorced in the last millennium, and well, the 70's.

I am learning. I am learning to listen to the emotional part. To be present to food when I am eating it. To ask questions. To not think this is some fix. All of them are so kind and so generous-- one is all piss and vinegar (and very quietly, she's my favorite). She once threw a chicken at her husband because as she says "dinna wasn't on the table at da time he wanted it. So I threw the chicken at him and said 'There's ya fricken dinna!'. He nevah made dat mistake again."

I'm also watching. I am watching what to eat and how to eat. How they eat. I have to be okay with eating small portions that satisfy me. Not drinking with dinner. Not having a glass of wine. Not eating the bread. It's okay to want the dessert, and look through the menu. It's totally fine to want. Wanting is good. But understand the want.

The guy sitting next to me works for the power company. When he was sent to another area to work on the lights, the safety instructor asked three things of him.

1) What's your name? This gets you present to who you are. How often do you say your name to yourself? I rarely ever do. By saying your name, you get out of your head and into the physical world.
2) Where are you? This gets you present to where you are and in what moment. You have your surroundings and can identify your location.
3) Do you really want to do what you are about to do? This gets to present to your actions, and most specifically the action you are about to take.

He said he applies this to every area of his life. It's a good way to just remember who you are and what you are up against.

So last night I said:
My name is Big Girl Big City and I am in a restaurant in NYC with my weight loss support group and I do not want to have a piece of carrot cake.

And I didn't have carrot cake. Or tiramisu. Or a "bite". Because I was so present to what I am doing and about to do that it made no sense to turn the "want" into "have".

Thank you awesome awesome support group.

Response to Saint and Rebel

2008-03-10T23:35:00.002-04:00

Over here

Ask, and you shall receive.....

1. Who was the first friend you can remember having that your parent(s) didn't like?

I think the little girl's name was Karen, and she had frizzy hair. I met her in kindergarten and would walk home with her from school. She invited me into her house one day and she had the really good snacks. When I finally showed up at my house a couple hours later, I couldn't understand why my mom was so mad at me. I thought she was mad because I had oreo cookies AND red vines-- and as many as I wanted, not because I was five and had gone missing for hours.

2. What song did you and your spouse dance to at your wedding reception (or what's "your" song)?

Not married. So I guess that would be "Sounds of Silence"?

3. What's the most fun you've ever had with your clothes on?

I think it's a combination of every adventure I have taken with Diane or Desha (las Vegas to the compound or taking photos of little girls in cafes in NYC or Disneyland or "I was done after the clown" Thanksgiving Day parade or singing in cars and bars). Being with either of the two of them makes me happy and full of joy-- I just adore them. I always at the end of the day say "That was fun" fall asleep and feel great.

4. What's the worst injury you've ever experienced?

I fell down the stairs at two in the morning (this was when I was working nights, so I would come home and take the garbage out, do household chores, etc-- there was no drinking involved) and sprained my ankle. It was about 12 F outside and I laid on the steps and said "Don't cry, tough it out, c'mon" and got upstairs after about 40 minutes and sobbed. I had a soft cast and crutches for three weeks. And it hurt really bad and I've never felt so alone and helpless.

5. Who wears the pants in your household?

My mom. Wait, I wear the pants in my household. I'm the only one. But really, it's my mom. She might wear the pants in your household too. She's really good that way.

6. What did you want to be when you were little?

I distinctly remember wanting to be a kitty cat. I am not too fond of cats, but my mom had a collection of ceramic figurines that were kitties, and when I would have to clean my room, I would meticulously dust those and display them on my shelf. The rest of the room was a disaster, but those cats were perfect. There is one with a bonnet and real feathers that I still love-- she is the prettiest. And I wanted to be her when I grew up.

Then I wanted to be a junior high school teacher, a drama teacher, and then after that we get too far into the teenage years.

I also wanted to be a synchronized swimmer. I would practice in the pool by myself. I was a most unusual child. I really liked the flowered bathing caps.

7. If we go out to dinner together, what kind of restaurant do you want to go to?

Someplace that has lots of little dishes, like a tapas or fondue restaurant, where it won't seem weird that the two of us are going to split an entree and dip meat in cheese. And where they will just let us sit and have time to chat. No rushing us. I think Greek might be the best, their service is terrible, but the food-- very low-carb friendly.

Disposable Cameras

2008-03-10T09:03:00.002-04:00

For years I didn't have a camera, and would buy disposable ones for different events to use. Well, and then forget that I had them. So two weeks ago, I packed up 5 or so cameras and send them off to the Duane Reade, and just received the photos back.

I of course had no idea what were on these cameras. And to be honest, was excited and nervous to see what could possibly have been so important to take a picture of and then promptly forget.

The photos are like a collage of extreme weight gain and loss and bad haircuts. There are photos of my 30th birthday, or I think it's my 30th birthday, and then photos of my brother's visit to New York when he met all my friends over 5 years ago. Then there are photos from 3 years ago with the really really blonde hair and the giant body, just before meeting the ex, and I was shocked at how large I was and how blonde my hair had been dyed.

In some of them I have my mom and dad, and it's awesome to see mom with a smile on her face, not shying away from the camera. However, all of us go through the up and down of weight loss and gain, and haircuts (why did I ever think that short would look good on me?). I look great in the 30th birthday photos (again, I can't remember if it's actually my 30th or if it was my 29th. Crap, it was like my 27th birthday. No wonder I look so so young.), with my long hair very curly and well maintained, a smaller face, and red lips.

As I am going through this process, I am uncovering things about myself I never knew. I have always thought I would be the woman with the red lips and the ha ha laugh, and the first one to be out there and trying to make things happen. You know, outwardly very very happy. And inwardly just dying. And instead, I am inwardly happy, if not confused for periods of time while I figure out what next steps are, while I contest my obsession with protein powders or refuse once again to go to the gym, and outwardly slightly raw and vulnerable. And wanting to wholeheartedly be thrown into a relationship of "someone loves me" without warning and without anxiety or doubt.

I look in the eyes of that girl/woman in front of the camera and honor her. It is her journey that has gotten me here. She is as strong as she can be-- carrying all that emotional and physical weight around is just exhausting and debilitating. I am so lucky to have found so many perfects in my life that counterbalanced the extreme weight. I am so lucky to have developed a persona that has let me be left alone. The breaking down of this persona is a little like tearing down the Berlin wall-- without David Hasselhoff or Europe singing or Ronald Regan encouraging the job to be done, as if he has some say in it. It's been coming down for years, it's now just for show.

Those photos are very cool reminders of some great past times with great friends. With people who love and support me. And knowing that I don't have to be that scared, that out of control, that fake happy is a welcome reminder of I am up to the life I am creating. I am up to creating a great life.

Co-dependent

2008-03-06T21:58:00.002-05:00

Co-dependent:

Compliance Patterns:

I compromise my personal values and integrity to avoid rejection or other’s anger.
I am loyal to the point of remaining in situations that are bad for me far longer than I should.
I routinely put my needs aside to meet those of others, even when I am not invested in the lives of those other people and I know that would not do the same for me.
I never say “no” even when saying “yes” will significantly and negatively affect me.

Denial Patterns:

I suppress my feelings, especially frustration, only to explode later in anger.
I am often unsure of what I am feeling, what I want, and defer to others to tell me or decide for me.
I perceive myself as completely unselfish and present myself to others as willing to do anything with a gracious smile.

Control Patterns:

I attempt to convince others of what they “should” think or decode what they “truly” feel and inform them.
I feel that the behavior and appearance of my loved ones is a direct reflection of me.
I have to be “needed” in order to feel good about my relationships.
I freely offer advice or directions without being asked.
I lavish gifts, favors, or sex on people I care about to gain approval and love.

Self-Effacing Patterns:

I judge most things I think, say, or do harshly and often feel I am never good enough
I value other’s approval of my thinking, behavior, or feelings more than my own
My best feelings stem from receiving approval from others or being liked
I do not think of myself as lovable or worth someone else’s effort.
I accept sex when I want love.

I read the above and thought-- wow, that's me. Wow wow wow-- especially the smiling graciously thing. And the gifts thing and the receiving approval thing, and well, the everything.

I just wanted to share.