darkest before the dawn, hitting rock bottom, et cetera, et cetera, cliche

so, yesterday was crazy, huh? MAN. i have not had a sweaty, terrifying, it-doesn't-fucking-fit panic like that in AGES.

i didn't like it.

after THAT delightful experience, i hopped onto calorieking.com (where i'm currently enjoying a free week trial before i drop $49 for the year on monday) and tried to make the best of the day. well. 1390 calories? is. a. lot. especially when you fail to eat breakfast or pack lunch and everything you can think of to get is SO HIGH in fat that you gag a little when you see it all in black and white. i ended up being VERY CAREFUL with a chicken caesar salad, ordering it dry with the dressing on the side and then adding a scant tablespoon of that creamy, cheesy goodness to my lettuce and chicken. of course, i always use way less than they give me (about a half a cup! who could eat that much salt??) but i generally enjoy their homemade croutons, too. then dinner was whole grain pasta-- two servings so i could get in my carbs & fiber, plus get my calories up-- with a bit of olive oil and cheese. grated parmesan is a dieter's best friend. so much flavor for so few calories. and then i stuffed down, and i mean STUFFED, a cup and a half of steamed broccoli. (also in there: 1/3 of a cherry pie larabar to sustain me through a BRIEF trip to the mall, 1 fancy chocolate-peanut butter square, 2 cups of coffee and a fancy dark chocolate square.)

i spent a lot of the day wondering how i could bulk up my fiber and calories without adding fat.

then i felt like a moron.

ready?

FRUIT.

yeah, as it turns out, i can't remember the last time i regularly ate fruit. or breakfast. or, actually, lunch every day.

so, we're going out of town tonight, just overnight unless we get stuck there, but i'm making a grocery list for our triumphant return today. there needs to be FRUIT in my life, BREAKFAST and LUNCH, too. jillian and my food scale are on the way, and i have a feeling i might actually start off 2010 at about 165. it's just a hunch, of course, but it's entirely based on what i saw on the scale this morning. (hint: 165.8!)

i like feeling in control. i like using this trial week to get my diet legs back. i like knowing that this is going to work, once and for all.

shame

my husband gives better presents than your husband. or, actually, any guy... ever. his stepmother tears up a little every time he buys me something amazing (like these aldo riding boots) and say, "well, he knows what you like..." while looking wistfully at his father. my husband gives the best presents.

which is probably why i feel so horrible that i can't wear these boots-- these fucking beautiful boots!-- until my KNEES are less fat. yeah: my fucking KNEES. when he gave them to me (christmas eve eve) i immediately put on the right one and admired it. then he told me i can't wear them anywhere until i condition & protect them, so i took it off, gently wrapped it in tissue and returned it to its box.

last night i convinced him that i would be COOOOOOOOOOOLD today, in the wind and the 29* high, and that it would be dry and i would be inside and they would be SAFFFFFFFFFE, ohplease, ohplease, ohplease!

the right one didn't zip up as well as it did five days ago. the left one... there was serious maneuvering to get in to. and then, and then... i stood up.

and knee fat visibly bulged over the tops of my boots making a creepy lump hang around my inner knee parts shouting "look at me! look at me! fatass attempting fashion!!"

balls.

(and, just so we're clear, NO i didn't even consider tucking my pants into the boots. though the look is growing on me...)

it's not muscle. it's not, oh, i just have thick calves. it's really, truly, squishy, squashy FAT. knee fat.

dear amazon.com: the sooner you could get jillian & that food scale here the better. kthxbai.

dear becklette: i hope you regret that piece of semi-frodo white chocolate-honey cake at your mom's last night. and the pizza. and the chili's meal the day before. and stuffing your face at three consecutive nights of family holiday events. and quitting running when the rains started in april. and gaining those 50 pounds in the first place. and gaining back the other thirty. and, actually, getting fat in kindergarten instead of being NORMAL and enjoying social interaction. and... fuck me.

i can't believe i'm too fat for a pair of shoes.

you say you want a resolution

in 2010, i resolve to finish losing weight, quite smoking (a. gain.) and make a happy habit of exercise. i will be a better friend, a better housekeeper and an optimistic person. i will pay off debt and save money. i will eat my veggies. i will love hard and play hard and not think unhelpful thoughts.


easier said, i guess. but i'll try.

so, i've bought my 30 day shred and a food scale. i signed up for a free week of calorieking.com and start paying on monday. (they started me at 1390 calories a day! a FEAST! of course i went over by like 2000 yesterday!) this weekend i'll have to clean out my workout area. the plan is to do the 30 day shred straight through to february 3rd, then stay on level 3 for two more weeks before starting my spinning & kickboxing classes. and yoga. ugh. kid brother is training our mom for $10 a session and i'm seriously considering asking for the same rate. he will also be taking the spinning class with me-- for optimal humiliation, of course.

i feel like sighing. i'm so glad christmas is over-- though it did turn out to be lovely and joyful with sparkling wine and all my brothers, even the oldest of my brothers' best friend, who might as well be my brother, and even the youngest had a beer and we were all cool with it and a flip video camera and a lenox pitcher set, $400 in clothing/shoe/accessory gift cards (loft, gap & aldo), and so much laughter, which is, after all, worth more than the presents. now i have only to squeeze through the new year business and it's all over and okay.

and then i'll finish up here.

so. who all's doing the 30 day shred, and do you wanna start on january 4th with me?



ps- i weighed only 169.4 this morning, and we ate at chili's yesterday, so there's hope yet...

2 cookies for breakfast

for the second day running, i just had two of my boss's wife's chocolate chippers for breakfast. and... i think they're the kind that come in frozen lumps of dough. i love that shit. i spent last week lovingly crafting about 100 dozen cookies (pinwheels, white chocolate macadamia nut, chocolate chip, peanut butter, sugar, oatmeal-no-raisin, meringue, gingerbread snowmen, chocolate-orange-almond biscotti, spritzies... and... maybe something else) and seriously, give me a platter of slice-n-bakes and i'm a happy girl.

is it bad that i think that's better than the buttered italian toast i wanted??

all in all, i've not been going too far off-road. sure, there's been the odd spoonful of truffle (to see if it's set, naturally) and half cup of eggnog (protein!) but really... it could be worse. (LAME, i know...) i haven't gone totally overboard on anything! not even pasta or bread!

it turns out that the classes i'm taking (SPINNING AND KICKBOXING, YO!) won't start until the LAST WEEK of february, but i have high hopes for the 30-day shred. anyone want to chime in? will i feel all rock-hard and fit after spending almost 8 weeks with jillian? will i still feel like i don't belong in the hardcore exercise classes?

well, this is the last day before my little christmas vacation (woohoo, 4 day weekend! good thing i saved all that vacay time for the trip that didn't happen.) which means i probably won't blog for a while. i'll catch you on monday.

oh, and my grad school application? all materials have been submitted. expect news at the end of january or the beginning of february. think academic thoughts?

fear

in just under two weeks, i'm going to edit the "just how fat AM i" section on the sidebar. no, i won't be CHANGING the numbers, but, for the sake of space, i'll be boiling the past year down to january '09, june '09 and january '10.

i will have lost 20 pounds this year.

that's GOOD, right? especially since they followed FIFTY in the previous two! but... it makes me nervous about next year. after dropping 30 pounds or less per year for three years, how am i gonna lose 25-35 in five or six months? AM I going to lose 20-30 pounds in 5-6 months?

dude, i have no idea. but i'm goddamn well going to try. really. really. REALLY hard.

but i'm scared. i'm terribly afraid that 2010 will end up being another year when i just barely manage to eek out a loss. i'm afraid i'll still be fat and out of shape and uncomfortable this summer. i'm afraid i won't be better. and speaking of better? i'm afraid i won't get into grad school. (dear second recommender: please submit the fucking letter. kthxbai.) i'm afraid we won't pay off the debt we need to pay off. i'm afraid we still won't be able to move to a nicer AND cheaper place in the city. i'm afraid our car will die, our guinea pig will die, my grandmother will die. i'm walking around pretty much SCARE SHITLESS is what i'm trying to say.

i'm definitely taking yoga. dr. y says it will help with my anxiety. i'm putting off long-term meds, basically. i'm trying to heal myself through exercise.

precognition

i feel exactly like i did three years ago.

2006 was flickering out, then, and i was a newlywed which, okay, i don't feel like THAT anymore, and i was thinking about GETTING IT DONE.

(i will admit that my plan then? was to lose 100 pounds in 2007. HA!)

2009 is winding down now, like, for real for real. two weeks, dudes! actually, way less: 10 days. and when 2010 brings an end to the revelry, i'm GETTING IT DONE.

i don't remember what my plan was for 2007. i think, honestly, it might have been "eat less, move more" because i had NOT been limiting myself in ANY way for, oh, a year. (funny story: i gained FIFTY POUNDS in the fifteen months between meeting my husband and getting married. and, yes, i mean 15 months. that's three and a half pound a month, almost a pound a week. in theory. only, i actually gained it in, oh, probably six months.) and i've destroyed my records-- in a fit of anger when they started saying thing like +/-0 every week.

but this is the plan for 2010:

1. i'm going to join calorieking.com. i know there are tons of free sites like it, but i need to pay for it. i considered weight watchers, but decided i'd hate myself. (no offense, if that's your thing, but what is up with POINTS?)
2. i'm going to buy--and DO-- the 30 day shred. i've seen lots of good things about it and, frankly, any workout that goes by in 20 minutes and kicks my ass without having to, like, go outside sounds good to me. amazon is selling it for about $11.
   
3. i'm going to sign up for (and take, natch) a spinning class (EEEEE!) and a kickboxing class through the local community-center-without-a-center. that will be an hour of serious and, again, paid for cardio two nights a week for 10 weeks. i think they'll run february through mid-april, so by the time they're over it should be warm enough to wog and i'll be much fitter. i'll probably also take some yoga or pilates for balance.
   
4. in mid-april, i'm going to get my ass back to the track and RUN. maybe i'll even download the real c25k podcasts and stuff.
5. i'll also hire my brother-- currently working on his personal training internship, the last step before certification-- to train me like a man for 6 or 8 weeks.

this plan culminates just as skimpy-clothing-season kicks off, but i have another goal in mind. my husband's stepsister is getting married in may and a lot of people there won't have seen us since OUR wedding (nearly four years by that point) and the size fourteen dress that could. i want to wear an 8. probably with a short skirt, superhigh heels and, as my grandmother would say, legs right up to my ass. see, i'm not likely to ever have nice arms or abs because of the floppy skin, but my legs always seem to bounce back.

so, my end-goals for 2010 (which will really be in june):

1. 130-145 pounds
2. size 8ish
3. and fit, like, REALLY fit

and that's what i'm precognating right f'ing now. the end.

i know.

i know why i'm not losing weight. ready?

it's because i'm not trying.

i'm not sticking to my plan over the course of the week; i'm getting frustrated that i didn't change overnight and trying something different.

i'm not working out hard every day and freely getting sweaty and disgusting; i'm lazily trying to avoid effort (as. always.) and stay pretty.

i'm not making the best possible choices every time; i'm going out of my way to make bad ones (hello, reese's bar at the pharmacy when i went to pick up cold meds for my husband).

so, yes, really, i AM going to take that spinning class. and the kickboxing. and i'm going to buy that popular jillian-from-biggest-loser video. and do it. maybe with a buddy. and i'm going to plan, plan, plan and follow the fuck through. i'm going to drop 2 dress sizes by may. I AM.

but? and PLEASE BELIEVE ME, i am wincing in shame at saying this: it's going to have to wait until the new year. because i've got too goddamn much going on right now.

:D

thanks for the sweet comments! that's more comments than i've had... like, since i posted the picture of my wedding dress. alas, we have three apple cider vinegar & dish soap traps out, but they just don't seem to be working. wth?

so... i stay the same. i stay the same if i eat only a larabar all day. i stay the same if i eat a perfectly balanced 1400 calorie diet. i stay the same if i work out. i stay the same if i eat pizza and fries and cookies. i stay the same.

i'm totally not cool with 167.2, you guys! i want 150. i'd LOVE 145. and, for 135, i think i'd keel over and die.

if i stay the same through new years... it'll be okay. i can feel the pull of the new year already-- the back-to-schoolness, the semi-annual-saleness. i'm ready for 2010. BUT, and this is a big BUT (like mine), i'm not ready for the tests i have until then. i'm not ready for christmas. not being what you might call christian (as in: i don't believe the whole jesus-christ-my-lord-and-savior bit, i do believe the whole be-kind bit) i find that christmas becomes less and less happy for me each year. and new year's eve-- WHOOO BOY-- i was so hoping that last year, on the fifth anniversary of my assault, i could put the damn thing to bed, but it didn't turn out that way. an acquaintance, someone i knew THEN and i know NOW, the guy who introduced me to my husband by not setting me to walk with the knucklehead's best friend in his wedding, saw me panicking and hugged me. fucking HUGGED me. which? is not what to do when someone says, "i cannot be touched right now. do not touch me."

anyway. the holidays? DO NOT WANT.

but! the new year! WANT.

i'm going to take classes-- EXERCISE CLASSES-- through the local "schoolnight" program. spinning and kickboxing. YOWZA. i'm going to budget like mad and pay off credit card debt & my husband's student loans before one or both of us starts grad school in september (i have doubts that i'll get accepted, but he? totally will.). we're going to move to the city. (cue heav'nly choruses singing hallelujah.) is gonna be a good year. these are not "i'll start after the new year" plans, by the way, these are plans that simply CANNOT be done in what remains of this year due to class schedules, leases and, yes, christmas.

fizzling out

why is there so much stress? why do things keep SUCKING?

the closer we get to christmas-- and we are getting close-- and the longer i stay the same, the more i want to just take a break and come back fresh in january. cause THAT ever works out.

i am TIRED. and COLD. and HUNGRY. things here and there are very bad: a former friend of my husband's who repairs guitars appears to have stolen the base i gave him three years ago. my second letter of recommendation hasn't been received by the grad school i applied to. we have fruit flies, AGAIN. money is stressful, especially when my husband up and decides he needs to fly to his mom's asap (it always comes on so suddenly and he REFUSES to plan for it, swearing he doesn't want to go again until she visits us). the holidays are so hard.

i stay the same, but sadder.

167.2

need i say more?

wtf?

i actually DIDN'T pig the fuck out at the party on saturday (although, yeah, i wasn't perfect... there was a box of wine...) and yesterday i drank LOADS of water (see also: there was a box of wine). and today? 171.2. WAAAAAAAAAAAAA? i gained five pounds YESTERDAY?

well, water today. maybe it's an after effect of the party?

i am, unfortunately, beginning to think well, it's PRACTICALLY january already... if i can just make it through the next few weeks without gaining, i can pick up again in january.

GAH.

crazy scattered

obviously, things have been hectic. crazy, even. last night i realized that we are two weeks from christmas. that wouldn't really bother me except we HOST christmas dinner and... oh, MAN am i ever not ready.

i haven't started my baking. i picked up the 20 pounds of flour and some other ingredients last night, but it needs ANOTHER store for eggs and butter and ANOTHER store for nuts and chocolate and... i didn't have the energy. last night, i think we were asleep by 10.

there is not heat in my apartment yet. last year, the super (or whatever) had to come out on christmas eve day because that was the first day our heat dropped under the high sixties. i guess this winter is colder? or cold sooner?

(this is basically a bulleted list without the bullets, no?)

166. 166. 166. no matter what i do. dear god, body, JUST GIVE ME 165!

by virtue of being all... apartmenty with whitish walls and poo-brown carpet, out apartment looks dirty and dreary unless it's PERFECTLY clean and intentionally spruced up. that's a lot of work.

oh, i don't know. my brain is scattered. i would probably give an arm to be 165 on tuesday. actually... i think that would work...

oh hai

i took yesterday off. from everything. sort of.

i took the day off from work and baked buche de noel with my mom and a girlfriend of hers. they used to bake every wednesday, with two other friends, while their ten million kids (okay, maybe... 10 or 11) ran around playing with tupperware and beating each other up. and every year they made a dozen or so of julia child's gorgeous yule logs with marzipan woodland creatures and spun sugar moss and meringue mushrooms. they haven't made them in something like 20 years. it was a TOTAL TRIP.

i went over my calories (with two glasses of wine) but had a great time and it was totally worth it. my baking starts kind of tonight and goes until next saturday. YIKES.

saturday we have a holiday party, which is scary foodwise and with all the baking... god, i would like to lose 5 or 6 pounds by christmas. i'm overwhelmed.

wrong with this picture

i was 90% on plan yesterday. the 10% was working out. oops. today? i've already eaten chocolate. it's not even nine am. it all started because i ran out without my larabar this morning...

in any case. 167.2 means a loss of like half a pound, which isn't awful considering last week.

depression

yesterday, we allowed ourselves to sleep as late as we wanted. the mister slept until 11. i did, too. but then i stayed in bed until nearly three. and i thought a thought i don't think i've ever thought before: i'm depressed.

i mean, i KNOW i'm depressed. i suffer from depression. i'm in treatment for depression. i can identify times in my life when i have been depressed. but i've never, like, identified it when it was happening before.

i'm working now on identifying the stresses. so far i've got:

• i have officially done everything i can to get into grad school and now it's waiting.
• my husband's grad school application process came upon us rather suddenly and is just beginning.
• my body is a pill-free cycling rockstar! which means that i wake up feeling just fine every fourth saturday and by noon i'm feeling fat and gross and sore and tummy-achey. and by one i'm on the rag. yes, that saturday was two days ago.
• as anticipated, we are now broke as shit until thursday.
• as could have (SHOULD have) been anticipated, the weekend, beginning thursday night, became a food free-for-all, including a trip to dave & buster's for the husband's office holiday party.

know how many of those things i can control? ONE. i can control what i eat, what i drink and what i DO. that's how i can get out of this.

you guys, this is just wrong

in my funeral outfit? i look... pretty hot.

don't worry, there's no merry widowish boob action or anything, but i look damn good. i ended up ONLY going to macy's and, frankly, our local one is the CRUMMIEST macy's ever. which is sad because it used to be a super nice strawbridge's before the buy-out.

i managed, through dumb luck, to stumble upon a lone size 12 pencil skirt on a rack of... cheetah print dresses? with... faux fur trim? and... i dunno. i averted my eyes. it was right outside the fitting room where clearly someone stashed it when they decided they didn't want it and didn't want to carry it the eighteen inches to the return rack. wth?

then i settled on a pretty plain, silk-cotton (i think?), 3/4 sleeve, cowl-neck sweater in charcoal.

i picked up some tights (HUE! unrippable!) in not the biggest size-- one pair irresistible argyle and one solid black, both super control-- and a cami in case the cowl was even remotely low, and was off.

to the shoe department, that is, where i snagged a pair of kenneth cole reaction wedge-heel, knee-high boots. for seventy five dollars. which my grandma gave me. HOT. DAMN.

seriously, this post isn't ENTIRELY about my funeral outfit. i mean, it is, but for a fat-related reason:

• skirt: 12
• sweater: m
• cami: m
• tights: one size 2 and one size 3 (out. of. FIVE.)
• knee-high boots? size 8.5 because i needed the extra quarter inch in the shaft. c'est la vie. and c'est la my fat calves.

and, a note on control-top.

for a loooooong time, i thought control top was bs. because, dude, it's all well and good if you're a statue, but the minute you sit or talk or breath, that shit is rolling down your tummy, digging into you and cutting off your circulation.

ah, but NOW! i am floppy! and smooshy! and i'll be damned if the control top didn't CONTROL. i'm looking all sleek and smooth. and i'm pretty comfortable! this, my friends, is love.

(yes, the shopping sucked monkey balls. i felt like i was teetering on the edge of 240 again, sweaty and lumpy and miserable. but it was so worth it.)

(yes, i also bought a three dollar packet of choco-covered almonds.)

awful

we all know the agony of having to buy new clothes-- fancy clothes, even, that need fitting and tailoring and stuff-- when we're not EXACTLY comfortable with our bodies, right? a bridesmaid dress, a wedding dress, a suit.

a suit.

i will admit that i protect my husband from things that will force him to acknowledge his weight. we have no full-length mirrors, even though i'm getting to where i'd like one. he doesn't tuck in shirts. we don't go for hikes together or the beach. i buy his clothes a size bigger when i see it needs to be done. frankly, he's gained a good deal of weight since we met, mostly while i was gaining my 75ish pounds, but a bit more since. i suspect he's gained about 125 pounds. and i'd like him to lose 100 or more.

but i believe that, as i did, he will make the change when he is ready.

and i think he's ready.

my poor husband went through a terrible ordeal last night: he bought a suit. this of course involved measuring tapes and numbers and trying on, trying on, trying on. and then they brought out the five hundred year old blind italian tailor (ALL tailors are 500 years old blind italian men, i SWEAR TO GOD) and stood in the gentle embrace of a three-way mirror, under fluorescent lights, while they poked, prodded, pinned and generally discussed him like he wasn't there.

(we managed the whole thing-- pants, jacket and tailoring-- for less than $200 bucks and it will be ready tonight, thanks to the ANGEL of a salesman at the men's wearhouse.) (who i may or may not have had an inappropriate dream about last night.) (in a xanax sleep!)

on the way home, he said, "um, we are going to workout together, right?"

i felt just... awful.

tonight i have to go through the same, but i don't wear the biggest size anymore. i'm going to try three stores: target (hoping their limited edition holiday collection is nicer, not just more expensive, than their usual fare), macy's (with a 25% off card!) and the old standby ann taylor loft (oh, MAN, do i ever not want to spend that much). it's going to be easier for me.

grief

my uncle passed away last night. NOT the guy i call my uncle who is really my dad's cousin. my actual uncle. my dad's mentally retarded younger brother.

i don't know how i would deal with this grief if i cared. it's nothing personal, it's just... it's as if a stranger died. i haven't seen him in three years, and that's IF he came to my wedding (i don't recall). if not, it's four. before that... funerals. when we were children, he favored the boys, buying them hess trucks and letting them watch (but never touch!) his train set. the girls were useless to him. but the really weird part is that the death of this stranger has deeply affected my father, and for that i am sorry, just like when my grandfather died four years ago.

i was up all night after the call woke me. i was thinking about how callous i must be to be worry about the inconvenience. i bought LOTS of christmas presents yesterday, and now money's tight to be buying a suit jacket (husband's are too small) and a black dress or whatever (mine are... i don't know. gone? too big? awol? i have nothing to wear.)-- what kind of asshole thinks of that?

since i'm not really part of the family, i'm not concerned that people will be piling food on my counters or worrying about whether i eat. so, that's good. but i don't know when i'll workout.

in any case: 167.8 is the official start weight.

ate, drank, was merry

over the past few days, i've ordered pizza just because, grazed for three hours while chatting with family, enjoyed second helpings of stuffing with sausage-- and no helpings of turkey and cranberry chutney-- eaten two slices of pie in front of people, ordered fries while my companion had cole slaw, and generally enjoyed the holiday's food offerings.

and i'm back.

i'm not willing to enjoy the present at the expense of the future anymore. so i'm doing a little experiment.

i've suspected for a while that, had i gone off on my ACTUAL own after college, i would have lost the weight. because i would have been in a position to totally control my food environment and not worry about anyone else's schedule. instead i got married. so, for the next few months, sunday-friday, i will pretend i'm not married. i will cook on the weekends for my husband, but i will workout while he eats. my dinner will be a very low-cal meal after my workout (and a larabar at work beforehand).

i hope to wrap this up on march 1 at 140 pounds, in the habit of working out daily (arms, abs and cardio) and able to run for 30 minutes.

so. that's 13 weeks. and it runs right through christmas, new year's and valentine's day. (and right up to my 26th birthday. EEP.) i don't know for official yeat, but according to today's weight, it's 29 pounds. over 2 pounds a week (i will settle for 145 and all the other goals). BUT, let's be honest, after a couple days low on white carbs and salt, i may well be looking at a 5 pound week.

december's goals are:

1. -12 pounds (by the first january weigh in)
2. 30 minutes cardio 5 to 7 days a week (video, bike, stepper, walk)
3. ab work 4-6 days a week

and that's that. thinks i expect to be eating the most of are:

• bean & veg soups
• egg whites & low-cal bread
• fruits
• veggies
• salads with low-fat cheese
• lara bars

i am getting this DONE. this is make-or-break, shit-or-get-off-the-pot, all-or-nothing time. and i choose to make shit and all. er. something less gross.

the next three months-- the traditional months of selflessness and giving-- are all the fuck about me.

(no, i'm not going to skip the MASSIVE baking plans i have. i'm just going to be really brave.)

i'm looking forward to a possible visit to nyc in march (OR, omfg, to ITALY since the same weekend is showing PHENOMENAL rates to rome!), hearing back from grad school around that time, my husband's stepsister's wedding in may (and looking totally HOT so people who haven't seen me since MY wedding will think my husband and i broke up!) and... turning 26 in the body i've always wanted. and a size 8 dress.

on a break

back monday the 30th with... i dunno? bells on? and gusto. and maybe a new plan. one that involves giving this until march and losing (yes, actually LOSING) 30 more pounds.

maybe.

6 weeks

6 weeks from today, it will be 2010. where did 2009 go? or, for that matter, 2007 and 2008? geez.

my husband says we're going to get back to our workout routine (sit-ups and push-ups 3 days a week) from the beginning of the year. on monday. i'd rather start today, but four days is actually a very short precognition period for him. normally he needs weeks to acclimate himself to change-- more if he's going to have to physically DO something.

i'm still seriously considering going to a much trimmed-down routine for the food season... i'm sort of adrift right now. i hate it. i want my recumbent bike fixed. i want to lose 22 pounds, at least. i want to feel young before i get old.

are you sitting down?

i didn't work out. I KNOW, you're shocked. me, too.

i DID eat pizza and cupcakes and magical pepperoni dip.

i'm so disappointed in myself. and embarrassed. ugh. i'm drowning, here. i don't want to settle. i realized this yesterday, i don't want to accept 80 pounds down as good enough. 156 pounds isn't even in the "healthy" bmi range... not that that's totally accurate, but i have a pretty medium frame and am not very muscular, so, ya know, it might apply to me. and i know that it's not a weight where i'd wear a bikini... or a miniskirt... or a backless top or whatever fabulous thing i imagine my skinny self FINALLY, triumphantly wearing. i know (from experience, remember i was about 155 in 2003ish) that my arms will still be floppy and my legs will lack definition.

i don't want that.

i want to be slim and strong. i want to be delicate and girly. i want to be comfortable. and i want to have lost my 101 pounds. i DO.

now. how the fuck do i make it happen? i mean, MAKE IT. how do i succeed? losing 32ish pounds is no small task. but i need it. i need success. what do i do?

balls!

i was just thinking how i don't have anything, really, to do tonight. i sent my essay (second draft!) off to my editor friend last night and finished my class. i have nothing to bake, nothing to study, nothing to do after my grandmother-in-law's birthday dinner which, she's 78, it'll be over early.

and then i thought...

motherfuck! i didn't workout last night! (i went to class, made cupcakes and revised my essay, though.) and i didn't workout this morning! (... i have no excuse, really.) i SO DO have something to do tonight: work. the. fuck. out.

i have been really off lately, with THE FOODZ. i haven't even eaten a LOT, per se, just really poor choices. not the best by any means. like, oreos for breakfast AGAIN. fried rice for lunch. a cookie and a cupcake for dinner. bad idea.

i bought a million cherry pie lara bars last night, and am wondering... what if i ate, say, egg whites for breakfast, a salad for lunch and a lara bar for dinner, like, until christmas? NIGHT FOOD is what kills me. it just kills me dead. see above: a cookie and a cupcake for dinner. so, supposin' i just eliminated the problem? i could make nice dinners for my husband on the weekend, casseroles and such that he can eat all week, and just eat lara bars. with the holidays approaching, i know i'm going to be stressed and pretty much trapped in my kitchen FOREVER, so what if i just... simplify?

(in which i psycho-analyze myself)

what. the. living. fuck.

why don't i follow through? i'm REALLY GOOD at planning, but whyyyyyyy don't i follow throuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh?

because i suck?

because i'm lazy?

because i LOVE food?

yes.

and because i'm afraid of being done?

eh. i dunno. isn't it odd that after being told that the last ten pounds are the hardest i decided that i only have 10 pounds (more or less) to go? it's like a got a get-out-of-trying-free card. which... GOD. just TRY. i mean, how long will it be before settling for a 10/12 because settling for a loose 14? and then will i realize that my 14s would fit if i just gained ten pounds? and then... what? another 50 to get into my wedding dress again?

to get up so speed i need to do 25 minutes on the stepper and 25 sit-ups tonight or tomorrow morning. i can jump back on the moving train, right? that's a good idea?

166.8... 5.8 pounds and i can post a -75 picture. won't that be fun?

can i quit now?

exercise? FAIL.

eating plan? FAIL.

grad school essay? FAIL.

it's been an awesome weekend full of... of... food, naturally. brunch. dinner. vanilla cake with peanut butter filling and chocolate ganach. booze. good god. i'm up, but why did we move weigh-in from monday to tuesday, anyway? for the patented TUESDAY DROP. so, um, we'll see. i'm dying to wear 12s (i'm at that place where i can't really dress up my jeans cause they're loose) and mediums (so i can go shopping in my closet!).

i'm tired.

40 days (and forty nights, if we're being specific)

a pound every four days. one and three-quarters pound a week. starting... NOW. seriously, 166.0. not 1/5th of a pound fluctuation all week?? whatev.

it has been a tough week. the end-point of 150-156 is looking more and more unlikely. and it wasn't an unreasonable goal. i didn't work out last night OR this morning and i feel awful about it. i need to pick up and dust off, like, for real for real. i've made peace with the shitstorm and i really want inner peace to = outer beauty. (okay! okay! THINNESS. i want it to mean THINNESS.)

of course, i am, at this very moment, eating oreos. that does seem counter-productive...

i made a get-in-real-shape-really plan for NEXT year (what? you think i can abandon my physical fitness and not get really fat again. side note: when will i not think i'm fat? ever??). now i just have to meet my weight/size goal-- and yes, i do think i'll go down another size when i'm all buff and shit-- because OHMYGOD i need to be DOOOOOOOONE. and i know i won't be able to walk away unless i made it.

two weeks to thanksgiving. i want to see 165 next week (or 164) and then i'm going to do a little pulse of seriously-don't-fuck-up and try for 160 for the food-centric holiday.

... and back again

recommend-er didn't respond to my email... probably nothing.

sister continues to inject misery and drama into my life.

too sore (and, okay, hungover) to work out this morning, will do tonight & tomorrow morning.

166.0...

you know how they say everything can change in an instant?

i feel like that today.

yesterday i was sitting here, felling crummy about not having worked out. annoyed that my sister had opened the christmas dinner evite but not rsvp'd. freaking the fuck out about where i would get a second letter of recommendation for grad school.

today, i am feeling really successful because i worked out last night and... this morning. i've received an email from my sister reaching out to me for the first time in three years. i have an enthusiastic instructor very willing to recommend me.

funny thing? i still weigh exactly 166.0*. i feel a lot lighter.

16 pounds in 42 days is improbable, i know, but i'm shooting. if i don't make 16, i know i'll make 10 and i'll be in damn good shape.


*nearly 40% of my in-range calories yesterday were, ah, celebratory. that is, chocolate and wine. hmmmm... why didn't i lose weight??

a comedy of mistakes

(or why it would be REALLY BAD were domingo NOT a fictional character from a fictional book by a fictional author/historian.)

uuuuhh, yeah. are we clear?

so... wha' had happened wuz...

i had a meeting with my boss to discuss how my health insurance isn't meeting my needs. it's provided by the company free of charge to me and money is tiiiiiiiiiiiiight so i can't go onto my husband's (taken out of his pay pre-tax) insurance without getting a raise to match it. $1.93 p/h to be precise. i also had to ask him to write me a recommendation for grad school. a REALLY GLOWING one. (spoiler: he said yes and was a little flattered that i asked.)

mistake #1: i get really fucking nervous asking people for things and i stutter and sweat and it's bad. so i took a xanax. it worked! i was cool as a cucumber at 3pm when we met and i got everything i asked for. (although, really, $1.93 an hour? wouldn't a normal person be like, eh, let's make it $2 even-- after two years without a raise?)

so, we got home and, like i said yesterday, we'd had some folks over on saturday. the two lovely women brought us lovely hostess-gifty bottles of wine, one of which (a riesling) was opened by the very drunk mate of said gifting lady. he drank one glass before switching back to beer, then to sweet tea vodka, then back to beer again. (i can't even think about that.)

mistake #2: i enjoy a glass of white, so i had one while a made dinner. at about 5:30, not three hours after 1mg of xanax.

during dinner, we often watch the daily show from the previous night on hulu. since there's no show on sunday night, there was none to watch, but our netflix had arrived...

mistake #3: transsiberian.

i fell the fuck asleep because oh.my.god. boring. i slept (drugged, okay, let's face it) like a baby until 11, got up to pee and brush my teeth and slept like a baby until 6:55. yes, i DO feel great today. VERY well-rested.

and i have an alarm set for 7pm*. there's 43 days until my move-on date. by the time i move on (to getting majorly fit) i want to be able to do 50 sit-ups and an hour of cardio. in order to do that, i'm starting today with 15 minutes of cardio and 20 sit-ups. i'll add a minute every day and 5 sit-ups every week.

sorry, domingo. but at least the man in black DID reach the top of the cliffs of insanity alive, right?

oh, and, hey, i still hit 166.0 which is kinda a big, important deal. i've lost 70 pounds. not bad, eh? well, let me just say, that pretty number from last week-- and next week!-- it was BETTER.


*edited to add: uh, DUR, becklette. when that 7pm alarm goes off in the DEAD MIDDLE of your starting a fundraising program class tonight, it will not improve you odds of getting a reccommendation letter from the instructor. let's make that 8:45, shall we?

aftermath

it's not parties at my home that cause problems, it's the aftermath. you know: THE LEFTOVERS.

we had five of my husband's friends over on saturday for an exciting arrangement of beer, plus a magical grilled cheese with bacon, onions and apple and black bean quesadillas, two-bite brownies and pumpkin tarts. i will admit that i maybe didn't NEED the four pumpkin tarts (the little dudes were about an inch and a half in diameter) but i was otherwise fairly composed. i nursed a liter of seltzer while everyone munched on chips and dip and drank the first two beers (or five). when i DID have beers, i had one leftover harvest moon (NOM) and one of the lowest abv pale ales that were bought in case our female guests didn't want to drink with the big boys (they totally did-- rock on girls!). i ate just one of each sandwich-- that's about 4x4 for the grilled cheese and 1/2 an 8" tortilla.

i did good. for breakfast (you knew that had to stay over, right? did i mention 6 to 12% abv? times FIVE?) i made scrambled eggs and frozen hash browns. i had a serving of eggs and one hash brown. and then? i'd say it went downhill.

leftover tortilla chips with flax? oooooh, i NEED fiber, i've been ooogey lately.

leftover pumpkin tarts and brownies? best to get them out of the house.

leftover cinnamon sugar pita chips? deadly.

the cinnamon pudding i forgot to ever serve? left me help you with that, honey.

popcorn and reece's pieces at the movies? nom nom nom. (ps-- paranormal activity is SO NOT the "scariest movie... ever.")

1/4 pound of angel hair with butter and cheese? well, okay, that was dinner. and it was whole-wheaty or something.

obvs, i'm up a little today. but i'm cracking down in the hopes that that pretty number i'd seen on wednesday, thursday and friday will come back. i would really like to show it to you. in other news... wtf is my problem?? why can't i make myself workout?? i'm DOING IT today. not this morning, since we slept late, but i will do it when i get home. i swear on the soul of my father, domingo montoya, i will use my mini-stepper tonight and finish 15 minutes alive!*

so, yeah. maybe i'll drag that little sucker into the kitchen and do it while i make risotto for supper. or maybe right after. the outer apartment (non-bed rooms) is immaculate, so i really have no excuse not to work out. or outline my grad school application essay.

*am nerd.

puttin' on the fritz

my scale is on the fritz again. i hate my scale. except when it tells me i'm 150.8. which i'm totally not. i think. i hope, actually, because the pair of 12s i'm wearing right now are awfully snug-- i've got a rubber band looped thorough the buttonhole-- and at 150ish i expect to be a 10!

sooooooo. okay. i haven't had a full night's sleep since last thursday. after being sick for days and having to get up to re-dose in the middle of the night, and then our lovely encounter with the yankees fan next door, last night we had to call the police on our neighbors down the hall at one am. once the cops were there, we got the impression it was an argument between parents and a teenaged girl, but before they got there i thought it was a break-up gone horribly, horribly wrong. i mean, this girl was screaming bloody murder, wailing and crying and trying pretty desperately to get out of the apartment. she was saying things like don't touch me, stay away from me and i gave you everything. we're having a few friends over tomorrow and to be honest, i'd love to cancel. it's not the friends that are a problem, it's everything else i have to do: clean, cook, take out months worth of recyclables. i'm just tired.

ugh

my cold has declined to the point of, you know, cold-like instead of DEATHFLU, which is cool, only as of yesterday my guts are... unhappy. i don't know what's going on, but i'd like to feel better now.

my pretty number remains and as i lay in bed yesterday i realized that we had trader joe's chewey molasses cookies in the apartment and i'd only eaten one all day. i won't lie, i considered getting up and having one, but knowing i'd have to leave my warm bed and my sleep-fog to do it wasn't appealing. and i'm glad, because if i'd gotten up and woken up, i wouldn't have gotten the lovely hour of sleep before we found out that our neighbor is a yankees fan.

my pretty number is still around. i do sort of wonder why i bother with the daily weighing and the 2/10ths of a pound accuracy when i just drop a pound or two over night and then sit there for days.

frustrated with my pants situation (i've officially crossed into that awful middle ground where one size is too big but the next is too small) i dragged out six pairs of jeans from high school/college. one pretty much fit, but they are my designated painting jeans from theatre crafts lab (and practicum) in college, well-worn and soft but also covered in paint and, i discovered last night, have a small hole right under my left cheek. one kinda fit, but, w0w, i was pretty sure low-rise flared jeans were never going out of style, wasn't i? we're on a long-term spending freeze to get out of the debt i don't like (everything but my student loans) by the time i go back to school in a year, so i'm going to have to hold out to christmas for new clothes.

unless i need size TEN jeans.

okay, enough disjointedness.

shhhhhhhh...

(omfg, i saw a pretty pretty number, it needs to stick around until tuesday.)

so... who is this person i keep seeing in the mirror?

granted, i've been sick, and that always messes with my perception of myself. but my hair has gone all blah and my boobs are drooping-- yes, my 25 year old boobs!-- and i'm all soft and squishy and... dude, are my pants too big? cause my sweater definitely is.

i'm calling a halt to this whole losing-weight thing in a couple months, but my personal care needs some work. FIRST OF ALL i need to get in shape, hardcore. so as not to be squishy. by the end of this week i'm going to have to actually get up 20 minutes early (20. minutes.) to start on a little workout program. i'm going to start at 12 minutes on the stepper and 15 sit-ups a day and add 1 minute every day and 5 sit-ups every week until the end of the year. only thing is, i gotta start by the end of the week in order to reach nice, round numbers at the end of the year. and next year will be the year of fitness.

another thing, what should i do with this blog when i don't want to be hung up on the almighty SCALE anymore? i've been thinking of taking on a new blog under my real name and stuff. would you guys (if there are any of you left) come with me? please weigh in. (HA!)

sign of the beast

(alternate title: "i saw becklette with the devil")

166.6.

with the aid of a weekend (plus) spend in fitful sleep, i managed to lose a WHOLE 0.8 pounds. so, um, actually, not a whole anything. october went by so fast. i can't even fathom how hard the next two months are going to be as they zoom past my ears.

shit.

open letter to my flu-like symptoms

runny nose. congestion. fever. chills. headache. body aches. sore throat.

you've made me miserable at work. you've made me sleep for twelve hours. you've turned me into a whiney little baby.

when are you going to give a girl a break, huh? stayed-the-same?? phuck you, too.

(speaking of which: wtf, wfc? trying to break my heart?)


in other news. sometimes i see myself in a mirror-- like today, sick for the first time in over a year, dressed to survive the day in comfy shoes and a plain long-sleeved tee (not black, GASP!) and i see a normal person. regular.

i had two food-centric engagements planned for this weekend, but i think i'll miss both in favor of OMG SLEEP. which also means i might be able to post some pretty numbers on tuesday for FUCKING NOVEMBER. abuh?

graduate record exams

as you may or may not know, i am in the process of applying to a PRESTIGIOUS university for my ms degree after what can best be described as a train wreck of an undergrad career. encouraging, isn't it? you also may or may not know that i am very bright and an excellent student. god knows, anybody who looks at my undergrad transcripts will fall into the "not" group on that one. it is ugly, my friend.

my personal timeline for completing my application is december 31. it's rolling admission for this program and, though the application deadline is the end april for them, i want to get mine in a bit early so i can beg to get in. that's right, BEG. i'm going to try to arrange an admissions interview, even though i don't believe they normally do them until you've passed the paper phase of the application. so, tell me what you think of this idea i've been tossing around...

so, i'll go in there all, listen, mister, i know my gpa sucks monkey balls, but LOOK! at my two GLOWING letters of recommendation, and my resume which is not too shabby, and my gre scores which (god help me) do not suck any kind of zoo-dwelling balls. see, a fucking bad, bad thing happened to me and it sort of messed up my life for a while, but i can stick-to-it NOW, i've got the bull by the horns and i won't let go. you want some proof? BAM. here's my wedding photo. look. what. i. did.

bad idea? overly personal? just plain awkward? i'm trying to find an angle here because i'm kinda type-a about stuff and if one brick goes missing the whole project (code for: my fucking life) is DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMED.

saw another odd overnight two pound drop today. can only assume a return to normal, healthy foods is causing a drop in retained water. but i have hope of posting a happy number for november.

two months, two days. so says my ticker. i guess that's left in this year. yikes.

890

to the best of my abilities, i have calculated last night's dinner at 890 calories. fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) i hadn't eaten anything up until that 9pm mini-binge/monster-meal.

i had a crap day back at work post-procedure and the man of the house and i had a legendary argument on the way home, so i just zipped off to school (half an hour early) hungry. on the way home, i stopped at wawa for dinner, mostly because it was dark and rainy and i knew by then he was worried about me (and yes, i feel a little bad about that now). i got the same meal as monday: crispy chicken, little mayo, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion on a shorti the calorie count--680-- is for a kaiser roll and full mayo, but it's all wawa will give me. i got the small bag of chips (140) and swapped out the pint of ice cream for a 1/3 ounce piece of dark belgian chocolate from the pound plus bar at home. coke zero, of course. and a fucking cigarette.

yeesh. it's been rough.

as always, though, the number game fascinates me. down to a pretty normal for lately 170.4 today with 8 weeks to get to 156. that's fifteen pounds in 8 weeks and doable.

if i stop fucking up.

(ps-- i lost one of my precious few followers... do you think it's because i say "fuck" so much?)

on the weight of a clark's nevus

question posed two weeks ago: how much do you think a clark's nevus weighs?

answer discovered this morning: -2.6 pounds

know how i figured it out? i got one removed yesterday and gained over two and a half pounds.

okay, that's not accurate. my nerves started going on friday, so i munched and ate and drank and enjoyed. saturday was spent baking and then attending a party where the food was AWFUL but the beer was plentiful. (and where i was not recognized-- owing more to the black pixie wig i wore than my size, but that was mentioned, too.) and sunday, naturally, i had to recover. and see saw iv after which the only thing i thought i could stomach was pasta with cheese-- no blood! er, sauce.

which brings us to YESTERDAY. aka: surgery day. surgery day went like this:

• 10am: two xanax
• 11am: the doctor is running AN HOUR behind. i left my xanies at home.
• 11:30am: i get called back, surprise!
• 12:00pm: i'm out and no copay-- sweet!
• 12:15pm: my heroic kid brother drops me at the wawa next door to my apartment-- the husband has taken off the past two monday's to take his grandmother to pre-op appointments for next week's total hip job.
• 12:30pm: i get home with a shorti crispy chicken sandwich with light mayo, lettuce, tomato, onion & pickles, small chips, large coke zero and a PINT of breyers oreo ice cream. (which is very airy and thus only 640 calories instead of the average 800-1000!)
• 1:30pm: it's all down the hatch and i sleep til the mister gets home.
• 5:00pm: which he does, bearing flowers and those "rainbow" cookies from 7-11 that i lurve.
• 5:15pm: i manage to throw together a meatloaf, homemade mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli.
• 6:30pm: which i follow with two glasses of wine and about an ounce of dark belgian chocolate.

will you believe me if i tell you i feel like crap today and wish i was still at home? cause i do. and my fingers seem to think i ate a saltlick.

so, we're just about 8 weeks out from december 23-- my original end date, and 9 from the end of the year. i've got 16-22 pounds to take off in that time. this can be achieved through NOT FUCKING UP, right?

peanut butter + instant vanilla pudding = bliss

and i DIDN'T INDULGE. that is all.

no! i kid. there's a little more. it's all up, down and around. i have a party to go to tomorrow, for which i'm making cupcakes and planning on NOT drinking a ton of beer. maybe. probably.

yesterday i went out for a beer to the magical gastro-pub across from my apartment and didn't order fries. just. keep. not fucking up. (well, okay, there WAS a beer. but my companion had TWO beers, and a quesadilla, AND chicken & broccoli alfredo. so i did good.)

i saw "finding nemo"

okay, does anybody else sometimes-- completely unbidden-- hear a little voice in your head saying just keep swimming... just keep swimming... ? no? just me? okay.

everyday that my goal is DON'T FUCK UP i get a little charge out of, you know, not fucking up. yesterday i only fucked up a little -- in fact, i was withing my range, i just didn't make the best possible choices (beer and an unfrosted cupcake). i kept swimming.

so, i have a huge anxiety problem, right? you know that? and lately i'm anxious about two things: money & my future.

money-wise, we're quite comfortable. we live within our means, but not far enough below to pay off debt (a little consumer debt, a little student loan debt). last night, all whipped up into a frenzy, i made a plan to get us out from our consumer debt & my husband's student loans by september.

which is when i hope to be taking on a WHOLE LOT more student loans.

which brings me pretty neatly to my second point: i'm trying to get into graduate school with a really awful undergrad gpa and not very much hope for a great recommendation. so, basically, my argument is "but i will TRY this time!"it's a little scary and hard, so i've set some simple rules for myself: 1) no new books until i've completed my application essay, and 2) schedule my gre test and study schedule next week. ummm, YIKES.

so that why i've got to just... keep... not fucking up. that's why i'm ready to be done, even though i'll never be thin, exactly. i'm TIRED.

in other news... i dug through my closet for pants to wear with my joan of arc costume on saturday (it came with really cheap capris, which, no.) and unearthed a pair of express "correspondent" pants in size 12 and damned if they didn't fit! i mean, it was close, but doable close, not "they'll be fine as long as i don't sit! or breath!"

so. twelve. me.

something like 70 days

there's something like seventy days left until my done-date. and less than 20 pounds to go.

yesterday i did not fuck up. surprisingly. it was another crap day. having school REALLY helps, though, because i'm not near my kitchen for an extra 3 hours. my numbers are getting pretty again.

today is another day to just not fuck up. i think i'll make it.

by the skin of my teeth

(sabina: my, my, my! six o'clock and the master not home yet!)


(that's the first line of the skin of our teeth by thorton wilder and damned if i can remember the rest. within a couple lines, sabina, mr. & mrs. antrbus's va-va-voom housekeeper, breaks the fourth wall and it's beautiful. that's just act 1: man vs. nature. nerd much? why, yes, please, i think i shall.)


so, not fucking up TOO badly yesterday gave me 169.8 today. back in the 160s by the skin of my teeth. like, literally, if my teeth had skin i'd be 170. about not fucking up too badly...

my husband ordered pizza and fries last night. the pizza was crap so i only ate one slice. but the fries were lovely. and my brother got 18 hours at home between bits of his job training. as hard as it was to watch him go a couple hours away last month, it's much harder to see him so several hours away until his birthday in mid-december. my computer at work crashed. my husband's halloween costume didn't fit UH-FUCKING-GAIN so now i have to make him one by saturday. i feel like a total failure with no hope of getting into grad school. i accidentally threw out my class schedule for tonight. i did my best with the limited means i have. i had a few chips, a piece of cake and a splash of schnapps. WHATEVER.

class tonight, a chocolate chip peanut crunch clif bar in my bag, very little opportunity to fuck up.

simple goals

my goal for this week:

don't. fuck. up.

it's only one week. i can make it through and not fuck it up. i can make three batches of cupcakes and not eat them. (there will be some HUGE coke zeros in my future.) i can get through this week. i can say goodbye to my kid brother again, and watch him leave for another 2 months, and not have four beers. and after this week, i can get through one more. beyond that? i dunno.

i'm feeling very trapped in the 170s. (yes, i am back in them, of course.) i want out. i want to be a little smaller, a size or two. if i could wear my 12s i might be able to stop. if i could wear 10s i'd put the brakes on SO FAST. 20 more pounds. have you ever scoffed at somebody who only needed/wanted to lost 20 pounds? "just 20 pounds? HA! if i lost 20 pounds, you wouldn't even be able to tell!" my grandmother says, "i could be anorexic for a year and nobody'd notice!" of course, we would, because every time you talk to her you spend half an hour discussing what she ate since the last time you called and then what you ate, and then what they made on the food network and then what she clipped out of a magazine for you. but still.

20 more pounds. don't fuck up THIS week. don't fuck up TODAY. don't fuck up RIGHT NOW. and then just... keep not fucking up right now.

cigarette hangover

i woke up this morning, during a very rude part of dawn, to a splitting hangover headache. from the bar i was at until 11:30 last night to see my husband's band. and the 3 cigarettes and a diet coke i had there.

i have to assume the pain in from the cigarettes, since i drink diet coke frequently.

i'm pretty proud of having had only one sip of beer in a joint where the only beverage i would guess was both safe AND tasty was bottled beer. my diet coke was gross and flat. those three cigarettes my friends bummed me probably saved me from a total meltdown (toddler-style) after i fell down the TWO shallow, carpeted steps scraping up my hands, bruising my left knee and, yes, twisting my ankle very badly. it was a rough night, and then i had to get up early.

(the band? eh. i don't care for the music.)

i did, unfortunately, indulge in 3 1/2 of those soft-baked 7-11 cookies for a stunning 700 calories. fuck.

this weekend we're probably canceling our hayride, thank god, so it should all be pretty laid back.

seriously?

okay. i know lots of women have complexes about their bodies that they can trace back to their fathers. an i'm not just talking about weight here. i know girls who are as tall as their fathers and feel bad about it. i'm sure there are girls who are embarrassed by their boobs because of comments their fathers made about their mothers. i'm sure.


i'm not one of them.


my dad has NEVER, EVER in my life commented on my body. now, i've seen his embarrassment when my sister dressed inappropriately and i know he feels a little scrawny around his young, buff, TALL sons, but the only thing my dad has EVER said about my appearance is, "you look beautiful, sweetie." and that's because my daddy rocks. any questions?


so, why is it that his friends, business acquaintances and peers think it's okay to ask about my weight?


obviously, it happened again. the it guy at work was in and, lo, it was awkward.


i'm sitting here, minding my own business and the it guy is sitting there, working on my roommate's computer. "so," he says as he fiddles with a printer cable, "have you like, lost some weight?"


"yes." this, i've found, is the only way i'm comfortable answering that question.


"um. you look... good."


"thanks."


looooong quiet and then he started to set up my roommate's virus update stuff, so he asked me when the roommate is usually in. i tell him 9-4 three or four days a week, but if the roommate needs to do something, he should tell me because dude is 70 and hits "enter" at the end of every line of text and then insists he doesn't. it guy asks if her hears a little *ding* too. i say i can't vouch for what he hears and it guy says, "i'm sorry, this is fun, but i can't get into this. it's a little unprofessional for me to get in to petty office politics."


oh, okay. but for you to make a comment about my BODY is totally professional??


okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...


in other news, i managed to restrain myself and NOT eat everything in the world FINALLY yesterday, though i do have to admit to 3 tj's mini milk chocolate bars (190c) and a bowl of cous cous with scallions (250c) for dinner. but i was within my calories... just, sugar and carby. i like the scale again. hooray.

how much do you think a clark's nevus weighs?

because that's what my suspicious mole was, so it needs to be taken OUT now, two weeks after it was taken OFF. crap.

i'm feeling less overwhelmed now, knowing that tonight's class will mean the third of 6 that make up this program over-- which is halfway-- and i won't have two classes in the same week again. also, my darling husband has cleaned the kitchen and done the laundry AND plans to clean our front living/dining/library room tonight. that leaves me with just a little baking, shopping and cleaning to do on saturday.

speaking of shopping, last night's visit to trader joe's had me playing one of THOSE girls. you know the ones who buy salad, yogurt and ice cream. the ones wearing stilettos to buy groceries. well, i was wearing kitten-heel pointies, but that's not really the point. my point is what i bought: 3 clif bars (all peanut & something flavors, and i don't recommend the peanut toffee blast or whatever), 3 larabars (trying cherry pie today!), turkey lunch meat, asiago slices, shampoo, conditioner, dish soap and mini chocolate bars. how did i become a person who doesn't eat real food?

oh well. real food or not. i'm ON the horse and not falling off this week!


edited to add: cherry pie larabar is a winner! the texture is odd, but the tartness totally overwhelms the likely "protein bar" flavor of oddness. plus, i like that larabars have a short ingredient list. these are dates, dried cherries and almonds. rock on!

crap day

okay, so yesterday was a crap day. i was overwhelmed, overtired and oversalted. we were running late last night, so we grabbed a pizza. i ate about an ounce of dark chocolate and the last (unfrosted) cupcake last night and killed the reese's minis this morning (there were only two!). the rest of this week is nuts. i have class tonight and tomorrow, therapy and live music thursday, friday free and saturday we're hosting a hayride & bonfire with optional drinks at ours after.

NEXT week my brother comes home monday, i have class tuesday, drinks with an old friend thursday and a halloween party for which I THINK i'm supposed to bring a zillion cupcakes on saturday. (we're being joan of arc and an inquisitor).

i'm tired. i'm overwhelmed. i'm going to tj's this afternoon to stock up on larabars (pb cookie was acceptable as food, if not as a delicious cookie treat). there will be no more excuses. two halloweens ago i was 210 pounds (and capitalism, the man was communism). last halloween i think i was between 200 and 210 (and a st. pauli girl to his sam adams). this halloween-- party, that is-- i'll be 165. not exactly the same size of the maid of orleans, but it will be close enough.

12 days, 5.6 pounds. i can dooooo it. especially since i'd bet money 2 or 3 more will go the moment i take a break from cramming everything in my mouth. um, and that moment is now.

okaaaaaaay, step away from the edge

whoa.

once in a while, i stumble upon something-- a thought, a facebook status, a memory, a name-- that sends me into a fit of depression. i know this. this morning it was on facebook, lots and lots of weddings. i am really good at delayed gratification, but was SO HAPPY to be getting married that i refused to consider, say, a two-year engagement. so i did school, wedding and a new job all together. i didn't lose weight. i didn't make a plan, i didn't even think about it when i registered. i don't feel good about it. but it's over.

the weekend was great and crazy and fun and indulgent. but it's over.

for my own sake i need to detail this. sorry, if it's inappropriate for this venue:

• friday: LOTS of eating. a huge, nice lunch, a quesadilla and 2 or 3 pear-champange cupcakes (unfrosted, like that matters).
• 5am saturday: 1 giant pancake and 1/2 a piece of scrapple
• 11am saturday: 2 or 3 chocolate-dipped madeleines
• 12:30ish saturday: 2 slices of homemade prosciutto & asparagus pizza, tortilla chips & salsa, tomato & cucumber salad.
• 6ish saturday: babyback ribs, mac & cheese, green bean salad, brussels sprouts with bacon, 4 harvest moons.
• 8ish saturday: 1 pear-champange cupcake (frosting removed) & two bowls of ice cream
• 8am sunday: 1/2 an english muffin with natural pb.
• 11am sunday: more with the madeleines.
• 1pm sunday: lomo saltado (on a traditional base of frozen french fries), 1/2 a papas rellenas, glass of wine & tres leches cake.
• 7pm sunday: veg fried rice.
• 9:30pm sunday: 1/2 a pint of ice cream.

i feel like complete crap. i feel like i drank noting but beer all weekend (i didn't have water ONCE). i feel like a failure and like my life is pathetic. i feel like i won't get in to grad school. i feel like i have no control.

but it's over.

numbers

hours spent in the kitchen since thursday: 12

beers consumed: 4

diet cokes consumed: 6

enormous meals consumed: 3

normal meals consumed: 5

pounds gained: 4.8


fuck my life.

confession

i don't want to go away this weekend.

we're going with my parents & brothers to see my uncles & my other brother out of town. while we're there, my mom is organizing a big landscaping project for my uncles, which everyone but my husband and i are working on. us, though? we're the food team. that's right, the FOOD. TEAM.

and i don't want to do it. i don't want to make cupcakes tonight or cookies for my brother. i don't want to spend saturday making pizzas for lunch and a southern feast for dinner (dry ribs, mac & cheese, green bean salad, roasted brussels sprouts). i don't want to bake a cake after dinner. i don't want to get up early on sunday to work on ceviche (um, gag.), lomo saltado, papas rellenas and southwestern salad. i don't wanna.

because i want to have another pretty number on tuesday.

whoa.

three things that have made me go "whoa" in the last 24 hours:

1. since having a phenomenal lunch with the recovering actor yesterday that included some fries, i have wanted to eat carbs constantly. now, i realized a while ago that if i eat white-carb type foods alone in the morning (plain toast, not-very-fibrous cereal) i'm hungrier, but the discovery that a carby lunch lead to sugar-fiending was sort of... whoa.
2. i felt very, very sick last night on the way home from work and lay down for about 25 minutes before leaving for class. i mean, i felt AWFUL. i couldn't work out why, it hit SO FAST and then went pretty fast, too. after class i felt good, but hungry, so i ate a tiny piece of my husband's leftover pizza (then his leftover fries, then some crackers, then some toast, then some chocolate) and then-- you see this a mile away, right?-- i felt sick again! i'd overeaten. whoa.
3. my first try on the scale this morning was 164.something. i called my husband in to look, hopped on again and got 167.8 (oh, HI THERE late-night white toast). but i SAW a FOUR. WHOA.

i decided to try levi's jeans-- any experiences? they're 99% cotton (IMAGINE THAT) and my brothers SWEAR by them... of course, my brothers are six feet tall and have to work to keep on 150 pounds and, oh, yeah, are dudes. but they're on sale and made of natural fibers horray.

FINALLY

167.4. and that's official.

i have so much to say and so little interest in saying it. i've been really bummed about a lot of things lately, not least of which is how dark it gets! and early! i like the dark better than the light, but i like WARM dark, which is not, of course, what we're getting at seven pm these days.

oh! and i'm really angry at old navy. i'd ordered a pair of bootcut flirt jeans, carefully making sure the fabric was the same as what i have (80% cotton, 19% poly, 1% spandex) because i don't even like these perfectly, and they shipped me (and charged me for, non-sale) a pair that 65% cotton and 34% poly. ummmm, EW. that's not denim, folks.

and... yeah. things are mediocre at best around here.

weekend in review

the weekend turned out nothing at all like i planned. but i still like the number i see, and you're going to see it tomorrow for my official october weight.

i have coupons for talbots and ann taylor this month, which i'd really like to be able to use on final-size clothes. which i can't do unless i'm penultimate-sized by the time they expire. (i don't buy more than one size too small.) i think that final size is actually going to be 10 bottoms and 8/small tops-- that's based on the size 10 ann taylor shirt i wore yesterday with size 14 jeans. and no, i will NEVER be able to buy a suit together. based on my current rate of loss (which will probably not keep up) i decided that if i get to 156 VERY early, more than a month, i will go for 150. but 150 is it, even if i wake up tomorrow 150.

okay. so.

weekend was off-plan but not out-of-control. the worst of it was that we went to my mom's for dinner last night AT EIGHT and i'm REALLY not good with eating that late, so i basically had two dinners. the rest of the week is going to be good and planful and i'm going to be 165 soon. tonight we're having porkchops with squash & cous cous.

i have nothing interesting to say at all.

day, crap, 10? and 11?

okay, TODAY is day 11. so, day 10 report:

i did alright with food. my only veggies were tomatoes and olives on my pizza dinner, though. not excellent. i only ate 3 lindt peanut butter truffles when i wanted to scarf the whole bag. i'm basically still pouting over my sore arm. dude, it HURTS. and... i can't believe what i still weigh.

day 11-13 plan:

we have nothing crazy planned for this weekend. well, a little crazy... we're rearranging our bedroom. that means moving a bed, a huge desk, a small bookcase and a stationary bike. i might get my brother to come over and help the mister repair the bike so i can, i dunno, USE IT. it would be nice to get in a couple walks if the weather cooperates. and we're basically planning on going to movies BOTH days, which means the weekend will be heavy on the coke zero.

NEXT weekend, though, NEXT weekend will be exciting. next weekend we're going out of town to visit my gay uncles and my brother who's staying with them while he trains for his new job. and i'm in charge of the food. and it's going to be crazy-fun. my uncles are awesome and my brothers pretty much rock, too. so it'll be a damn good time. and... and... i woulnd't mind being 165 then. (OVERWEIGHT!!) and, you guys, it doesn't look impossible.

how much do you think a suspicious mole weighs?

i had a suspicious mole removed this morning. then my husband treated me to a light frap and a turkey bacon & egg while sandwich. to cheer me up. good idea? not really. helpful? eh, a little. the local is wearing off now and it huuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrts! i guess i can't really complain with fat bridesmaid soldiering through gallbladder surgery. and, you know, hungry children in india, men with no feet, etc.

but that probably won't stop me.

last night... was not my best work. we went to dinner at some friends' house-- a rare occurrence since they live with his parents and, frankly, i'm the only one of my friends who can cook, so generally, IF we go somewhere for dinner, i cook.

so, anyway, we went there. she made pasta. and ceasar salad-- not like i make it, like restaurants make it, like salad-dressing soup. then there was cheesy bread. wine. and chocolate chip cookies. oh, and dinner was later than we're used to so i had a snack of cheese-filled convenience store pretzel. and i am sorry for all my sins.*

so i ate a good amount more than i should have, but still down today. tomorrow's another story since we're having pizza for dinner (one slice, veggie-laden). we shall see.

i'm waiting on a pair of jeans, two black sweaters and a fuscia shell from my recent orders. the tops are all mediums or m/ls. the jeans are 14s... i had to buy them because i've been working with 4 pairs: ann taylor straight leg 16ps, gap flared 14s, old navy bootcut flirt 14 and old navy bootcut flirt 14 short. and... i got pen all over the gap jeans (the ones i practically cried when i zipped up) so i have only one pair of full-length, heel-compatible jeans. no good.

it's really strange to see a REASONABLE number of that "pounds left to go" ticker. REALLY. STRANGE.

*food has no moral value. that was a joke. it's what you say at the end of your list of sins in confession. it just... fit with the list.

day 8? is that where i am now?

last night i spent my last calories on a 10pm quesadilla. with 1/8 of a cup of cheese, so, basically, a cheese-flavored toasted (on a pan) tortilla. it was fantastic, but, being a salty/bland carb, it could have gone very, very badly for me. it didn't and i've been rewarded with a "6" again-- finally.

i've got my new goal on the ticker, and it's for serious this time. 156. that is goal. that is about 11 pounds overweight for my height, but, um, it's probably fewer pounds over weight than i've been for more than a month in a loooooooong time. maybe ever.

besides, in five years i'll be thirty and EVERYONE will be 11 pounds overweight, right??

i'm going to go abuse my credit card at the ann taylor "best sale ever" now, so maybe i'll come back later to have, like, coherent thoughts.

edited to add:

i spent more than i'd have liked to, but really mostly that was due to s&h. $9.95, ann taylor? gap gives it to me for $6. i bought a silk shell (m) for about $15 and a coccoon sweater (m/l) for $23. i WOULD have bought a pair of jeans, a pair of capris and a few other tops yesterday, but alas they were sold out today. can i just say, i'm REALLY thrilled with ann's new outlook regarding shoes? beautiful.

one week down

official weight for the week: 170.4. not gonna lie, i was hoping for 169.anything.

over the weekend i pulled out my senior prom dress. it's a 12, i think, and i was a solid 14 then, but i did manage to rock that size 12 scott mcclintock navy blue strapless gown. with unfortunate hair, old navy flip flops, a pink feather boa, vintage pearl-button opera gloves and a short boyfriend. but i did it.

so, anyway, back to friday, with a little schnapps in me, i decided to drag out the dress that remains THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DRESS EVER, even though i've since worn a wedding dress, and zip that sucker up. and discovered verification the i am not shaped like i used to be shaped. it fit. it even gaped a little in the bust (whereas 7-8 years ago my boobs were SAYING HELLO to the nun chaperones) and was plenty breathable in the waist. but the hips? well, let's say that navy blue satin was given a run for its money on friday.

on saturday (saturday of baking, pizza and brownie) ANOTHER of my husband's cousins-- the PRETTY one, the one who's always been prettiest and cool and nice and funny, the one whose husband looks like a movie star and frankly so does she, the one who got married a month after me, had a baby 40 weeks later (on. the. nose.) has been making people wonder if another's on the way ever since-- told me from across the room that i was looking "mighty fine" and asked "are you trying?" i new she meant to lose weight. i pretended i didn't hear. she asked, louder, and the whole room turned to look at me. i see it as them all probably thinking i've lost 20-30 pounds because i doubt they have a concept of what -65.5 pounds really looks like. i shrugged, "ya know..." OF FUCKING COURSE I AM.

i'm sort of coming to terms with an end to this. i know my "end" is a date, but i'm really hoping for a number: 156. it's not "healthy" and it's not going to put me in a bikini (probably) but it's -80 and that's a respectable feat. it's tempting to see 156 and try for 155, then see -81 and try for -85, then see 151 and try for 150 then see 150 and go for 145... but i won't. i know that if i weigh less than 160 pounds i can wear an easy 12, and probably a 10. maybe even an 8 dress and a medium top. and maybe, just maybe, i can run without dying and swim without feeling like a whale and dance without getting out of breath. maybe.

weekend in review

oomph. we had a rough weekend. it's a whole lot of personal, though, so let's skip right to ALL THE THINGS I CONSUMED:

• 64 ounces of coke zero (0 calories)
• 126 ounces of club soda (0 calories)
• 24 ounces of water (0 calories)
• 15 cigarettes (0 calories)
• 1.5 ounces of sour apple schnapps (150 calories)
• 1 slice of plain pizza (250 calories)
• buffalo dip & bread (300 calories)
• 1 slice of pepperoni pizza (300 calories)
• 2 slices of pizza with the cheese removed to be given to my friend's gluten-free kid who desperately wanted pizza (400 calories)
• 3 homemade-by-me brownies (990 calories)
• 10 homemade-my-me miniature madeleines (250 calories)
• tj's frozen mac & cheese (300 calories)

so, actually, that's not tooooooo bad, by the numbers. it puts me at an average of 1300-1400 calories a day. except they all came from pizza and brownies. and almost all yesterday.

is anyone going to be surprised when i say i was up to 171.6 this morning??

third day & went off the plan

last night, i planned to have club soda, a savory crepe, and half a sweet crepe. i was VERY hungry when we got there (around 6:45, super late for dinner for me). so i went off the plan... with a bowl of french onion soup, but i gave the big GLOB of cheese under the surface to the man. god. damn. it was good. and well worth the, what? 200 or so calories. totally.

we had an amazing dinner, even though i didn't get pate or beer or a whole dessert. i did forget that when you split a dessert they serve each half on its own plate, so i did get a (smallish) scoop of ice cream and squirt of whipped cream. which i realize i could have not eaten, but i did.

i'm pretty irritatingly *up* to 171.4 (from 171.0) today, but i'm blaming the soup-- even at a fancy restaurant it must be salty, right?? (noooooooooooooooooooo, it COULDN'T be the ICE CREAM!)

why isn't my shiny new ticker in DAYS? i wanted it in days. oh well, 3/101 with 98 to go.

day 2 of 101

second day, absolutely on point. better than the first, actually.

i know there's this whole "hot 100" or whatev going around where everyone's making goals for the last 100 days of the year, but i started a day early, originally planning for a 90-day burst of kickass. i GUESS i'll go through the end of the year, but i might very well call it quits (or just lose steam) around my original end date: december 23. (oooooh, i need a ticker.)

tonight the mister and i are celebrating our anniversary at our favorite restaurant: a creperie. my intentions for this evening (when it was scheduled for monday, the day BEFORE the getting-down-to-business) were to enjoy the heck out of a fancy belgian beer, a pate appetizer, a savory crepe and a sweet crepe. with a possibly after dinner limoncello (LOVE). but i think i'm going to have club soda, a savory crepe (ham, egg & roasted leek, no cheese) and half a sweet, if i can talk the man into splitting. if not, no sweet for me. the side effect is that our check will drop a good $50 ($18.5 for the pate alone, though, which i might have skipped anyway since it's $$ and he won't eat any).

tomorrow night we're planning a dinner of whole wheat pasta and homemade (already made it, in fact) bolognase, saturday i have to bake all day and then pizza for my grandfather-in-law's birthday-- there will be a 64 ounce fountain coke zero in the kitchen with me, no kidding, since i'm making lots of sweets for my brother to take when he moves out of state this weekend, for, like, ever. sunday we have a bowling party where i will drink lots of diet soda and, god help me this is my plan, avoid eating through strategic cigarettes and gum.

i'm losing this weight, goddamnit.

one day down.

so, since i had class yesterday and we didn't go out for our anniversary, i just did my best. not in an "i'm DOING my BEST" kinda way, in an "i am doing my very best and you can't stop me!" kinda way. my favorite thing is when i hop on the scale for my daily check (to make sure i haven't ballooned up to 236 pounds in my sleep, of course) and see a number way prettier than the previous day. like 171.8. that's what doing my best gets me.

and i think i learned a valuable lesson: sometimes, doing your best means having an ounce and a half of schnapps on the rocks instead of mindlessly grazing late at night.

i'm totally not getting that job i applied for. balls.

plan for today: do my very, very best.

disappointed

a of all: 173.4

b of all: i went to my doctor-- who specializes in pretty-making medicine like laser hair remover, skin resurfacing and weight loss-- prepared to accept her endless offers of appetite suppressants.

she didn't offer.

i asked.

she declined. and i quote, "those last ten pounds are always the hardest. believe me."

ten? TEN? try forty on for size, bitch.

at home i cried. basically all night. i had a beer and a cigarette. and i cried. the mister asked me what the minimum was-- how little weight loss i could have and finally say "enough". 15 pounds, i think. 160 would put me solidly in a 12 and force me to try on every top i buy to find out if i need a medium or a large. 12 is the size i've always been-- i'll still be fat, but not FAT.

i had fantasized about getting "101" tattooed on my hip, small and placed carefully so that it would not be visible if i wore anything remotely modest. somehow, "76" doesn't have quite the same ring.

i'm tired of this. it's my third anniversary today. i started planning my great weight loss when i got home from my honeymoon. in january, i'll have spent 3 years trying to lose weight.

in january, i will accept my body the way it is. i will buy myself full-price jeans and diamond earrings and love it. i can't do this indefinitely. i won't be my mother.

still ticking

barely.

pour some sugar on me

... or just let me mainline it?

i've eaten something sweet every day this week. yesterday, two. and i'm not talking about a square of high-quality dark chocolate, i'm talking about a sticky bun so big that i don't think the center had been cooked at all; i'm talking about a decadent chocolate mousse thing with three different kinds of chocolate that cost $5.75 and was worth it; i'm talking about chocolate-covered convenience store doughnuts; i'm talking about a toasted apple-cinnamon bagel with a giant glob of cream cheese; i'm talking about the cookies that used to be good from 7-11, the sugar cookies with mini m&m's peppering the top.

last night i ate at least two of those things... plus a huge-- HUGE-- bowl of tj's high fiber cereal with melted chocolate chips. WHO DOES THAT?

(well, okay, it's wasn't that bad a choice: probably 400 calories and 200 of them fiberful.)

whoa. WHOA. what's happening to me?

granola? trail mix?

ingredients:

• 2/3 cup trader joe's fiber cereal (the one that looks like twigs)
• 1/8 cup lightly salted roasted peanuts
• 1 tbs semi-sweet chocolate chips

250 calories. breakfast of champions.

my anxiety is, um, through the roof lately. possibly because i applied for my dream job on friday. possibly because we're more broke than i like to be. possibly because i'm almost completely isolated. possibly because i have some bizarro form of seasonal affective disorder where the season that affects me sort of rotates... what's that you say? they call that depression? oh. possibly that.

riddle me this

if a weight-loss blogger loses motivation and momentum, but she continues to blog about it, has she fallen off the wagon and disappeared?

i'm not gaining, but i'm not losing, either. and i'm not sure i care.

delightful

i have no motivation.

NONE.

i keep eating mostly well during the work day because a) it's easy and b) it feels good. but then at night... well, lets just say this weekend i bought 4 single-serving ben & jerry's mint chocolate cookie and a pint of h-d peanut brittle swirl (I KNOW). and my stationary bike? in addition to being out of commission-- the man says it's broken-- is suspiciously resembling a clothes hanger. well, yes, the track is still there, but no there's KIDS, if you can believe the nerve, practicing their SPORTS and their MARCHING WHILE PLAYING AWFUL MUSIC... though if that men's soccer team is back, THAT might get me back to it.

hmmm.

so, uh, any motivation suggestions?

oh, and 173.0. right where i was... at the beginning of last month. and probably a million months before. at least i can maintain.

soooo...

b- fiber cereal, peanuts & chocolate chips (250)
l- greek yogurt & banana (225)
s- grape tomatoes (um, 25?)
d- quesadillas (500)

running behind...

i had to buy new make-up over the weekend. i'm nearly out of my brow powder (after 4+ years, which, i know, you're not supposed to do) and my drugstore face powder just hasn't been cutting it anymore. i didn't go FULL OUT (i'm thinking gel eye-liner, that fab blush-for-people-with-races the recovering actor put on me, that awesome two-part concealer system and maybe some vairety in my eyeshadow) but i do feel terribly guilty. that was my "overweight" reward, and i'm still 6-7 pounds off of that.

i think. i didn't weight myself all weekend thanks to the time of the month. oh well.

b: fiber cereal with 1/8 cup peanuts & 1 tbs chocolate chips (250)
l: greek yogurt & pretzels (175)
d: probably squash risotto (400ish)

hm... fruit? more veg? i suck at this lately.

stupid, STUPID rain!

(dude, i watched impromptu over the weekend, and that title is HYSTERICAL if you imagine early-nineties emma thompson saying it with little 19th century hair wings. or maybe that's just me.)

no, seriously, it's fucking raining AGAIN. and, as is the way with damp & cold, my broken ankle is owie. and i'm all sorts of tired. and i'm volunteering to sit at the back door of a club for 5 hours tonight. and tomorrow i got a million things to do. and... and...

(i know, right? SHUT. UP.)

in the shower this morning i thought i can lose 6.2 pounds in 2.5 weeks! i CAN! and then i realized it's ONE and a half weeks and that's less likely.

i'd really hoped to be DONE in early january-- an even three years-- but it's not happening. i'm going for my birthday in early march. sure, 3.25 years isn't as nice and round, but we're not shooting to four, so it'll have to do.

and i'll have to stop eating cookies. really.

narrow escape

171.2. not half bad.

i think my scale is just plain wrong, though, cause i feel FAT. i feel 175-178. what's up with never noticing fluctuation until i was down like 50 pounds?? now i know that joy that is bloat, water retention and muffin top in jeans that fit YESTERDAY.

i ate 1300 calories yesterday, but at least 450 of them were nutritionally void. (unless mini m&m's have some vital nutrient in them? oooh, i bet the pretzel salt was IODIZED. score! nutrition!) i didn not work out.

today i ate a 250 calorie, high-fiber breakfast. i won't be home to munch in the evening, so i just have to brave lunch out with a girlfriend and a very quick dinner at home.

life is crazy right now. really. and i can't even say.

shit.

i don't know what i weigh today.

i packed a greek yogurt (0%) and fiber cereal for breakfast, turkey & asiago on rye for lunch.

i meant to walk an hour and a half each day over my (mini) vacation. i didn't. but i feel rested and good. i watched/saw 6 movies. penelope & blindness were excellent. inglourious basterds was phenomenal.

i'm home tonight but ushering a show tomorrow and fire-watching for the live arts festival friday. next week starts school again.

i wasn't scared of gaining weight back. i know i won't. i KNOW. that's the one thing i KNOW.

all or nothing

why can't i seem to find some balance? the past two nights i've been so tired, i mean SO TIRED, that i haven't worked out. shit, i've barely gotten up in the morning for work. so have i failed? i hope not. am i going to weigh 165 in less than three weeks? maybe. probably not. did i need pizza and fries and cake and chips last night? no.

i'm sort of scared right now. i'm scared of a lot of things, and worried about a lot more.


....................


i wrote a long post about all the shit i'm worried about and felt like a whiny little bitch. i've seen the man who had no feet. i know better.

m

like the glorious dame judi dench in 007 movies, i am officially "m" as in, fucking MEDIUM, man!

or at least, so claims this adorable trench target delivered to me yesterday:

it can't hold a candle to my leaf-green, double-breasted, cropped trench of last year (originally purchased at lord & taylor about... 5 years ago), but it's cute and seasonally appropriate and neutral. plus it was twelve bucks.

now, the real trick will be fitting into it with a sweater in 2 months.

a miracle

this morning, i hopped on the scale fully expecting bad news. last night did not go as planned. i need to keep mum on the reason, but i ate a LOT. i got upset, had a couple beers and ate. and ate. and smoked, and ate and fumed.

the news?

152.0

dear reader, i have not weighed so little since the seventh grade, by my best reckoning. and, reader, i don't weigh so little now.

my scale? she is mindfucking me. again. some more. next three tries gave 170.2, which is also good news. but how do i trust her again?

my shiny knight

last night, at 9:30, when we got home from returning my grandmother's car, after picking up ours at the mechanic, suffering through wicked suburban rush-hour traffic and mediocre tj's cold-case mac & cheese (diner classics MY ASS), he gave me a back rub, laced up his shoes, and dragged my butt out for a 1/2 hour walk.

my knight in shining nikes.

in a little while i'll go for my 20 minute "stroll" (seriously, this training schedule calls for "strolling" regularly) and tonight i'll work on some push-ups and sit-ups.

confession: i'm smoking a little bit. kinda one week (or weekend) on, one or two weeks off. i'm trying not to, but, UGH, i feel like hell.

anywaaaaaaay. obviously, i did not get to the produce stand yesterday, so lunch is tomatoes and mozz again-- no greens. but i grabbed some clementines, too.

i'm just taking it day by day here.

i'm awesome

okay, so today is supposed to be a rest day, but since i didn't DO anything to rest FROM, it's going to be a half-hour walk day. (seriously, i don't need TWO rest days in a week when i walk a total of two hours and forty minutes.)

i packed a pretty good day:

• fiber & flax cereal, 200c
• tomato & fresh mozzarella salad, 300c
• greek yogurt, 120c

yeah, not great, i know. some fruit wouldn't kill me (or is it veg i need here? what do tomatoes COUNT as, REALLY?) and i would have preferred an egg for breakfast, but we haven't been to the produce stand and i ran late this morning. i'm REALLY excited about the fresh mozz balls packed in lightly salted water from tj's. the serving size is 3 balls for 60 calories, but the important thing is that i don't have a food scale, so i can't just weigh out an ounce like most kinds want you to. so, hooray. i'll have caprese again tomorrow, probably on a bed of spring mix and with heirloom tomatoes. nom. wednesday could go either way, and thursday and friday should be chicken salad.

as for dinners... i have no idea.

as for the rest of life... i'm working on it.

perfectionist

i'm a little bit of a perfectionist (sometimes). one of the things i'm REALLY anal about things that i've baked to give away. those pb brownies? i screwed up when i was cutting them so i ended up with lots of end bits and trimmed pieces. i wrapped them in foil for my husband.

i ate them, obviously. well, some of them. eventually, i made a wholesome dinner and tossed the rest before i could consider dessert (AGAIN). oh, and i didn't eat my yogurt & apple yesterday-- just not hungry-- so at least i saved 200 calories. which i then consumed in nutrition-free form. gah.

today was another rush job:

• 3/8 cup fiber & flax cereal, 100c
• honey flavored greek yogurt, 120c
• 12 grape tomatoes, 25c
• egg salad (2 eggs, 1/2 tbs mayo, mustard), 225c
• celery, 15c? i forget

dinner at my grandma's favorite local italian place will likely be a side of gnocchi and a caeser salad. halfathon training starts monday! i need a poncho...

"i've been meaning to tell you..."

yesterday afternoon, a coworker stopped by my office to tell me she'd noticed how good i looked. it wasn't TOOOOO awkward. but then i felt like crap because i'd eaten chicken nuggets, 1/2 a black and white shake and 1/2 an order of fries for lunch. crap.

i have a planning problem. i can only plan for one contingency. like yesterday. my girlfriend came into town to meet me for lunch (she works second shift), like we do about once a week. normally we go to the teeny, fair-trade, veganish coffee shop. we each get a multi grain bagel with veggie cream cheese. she has a coffee, i have an iced cafe au lait with splenda and skim. yesterday, though, i was going to get a slice of broccoli quiche on a bed of spring mix. but they were closed. for vacation. so we headed towards the place that serves the best chicken ceasar salad in town-- i get it dry and crutonless. but they were packed. so we went to the nearest place: the small-chain burger joint. so we shared the fries and shake, but the sugar bug had me.

i tried to compensate by eating a huge bowl of tomatoes dressed with olive oil, s&p and fresh basil for dinner with a 45 calorie hebrew national hot dog for protein. i took two bites of my husband's mac & cheese, and felt fine about that. but later, i made peanut butter brownies for my fil. he's laid up after ankle surgery and my husband is taking him to a follow-up appointment right now. last week i sent him his favorite pumpkin custard. this week, peanut butter brownies. except, oh, the licks, the tastes. i went to bed with a stomachache.

lots and lots of things i can bake with only one taste (a fingertip) to make sure some part of it it right-- i tend to read measurements like "one teaspoon" and "a splash" so sometimes added flavors aren't quite right. but brownie batter? i lurve it. and peanut butter? my fave.

this morning i was rushed, but i think i made out all right:

• 3/4 cup of the fiber & flax cereal i'll never buy again (it's sweetened!), 200c
• honey-flavor 0% greek yogurt, 120c
• 1.75 oz. container of peanut butter, 300c
• celery (3 5ish" pieces), 10c
• 10 grape tomatoes, 20c
• an apple, 80c

so... okay, i guess 730 calories isn't GREAT for my up-til-dinner eating, but i've got enough food to last me the day, for sure. maybe i'll make some popcorn while i cook dinner? eh. i will if i'm hungry. if not, i'll eat a 500 calorie dinner. what. ever.

oh, hey. so this walking 1/2 marathon THING. i'm doing this training schedule with the hopes of walking this half marathon on a christmassy visit to my mother-in-law. does anyone want to, umm, i dunno, train with me??