Sunday, June 21, 2009

Taste the rainbow

No, I'm not talking about those little sugar highs in a bright candy shell, I'm talking about fruits and veggies. They say you're supposed to. Ya know, taste the rainbow? And that's what I did. Today is Father's Day and Dad wanted his favorite BBQ ribs and these potato wedges that they got somewhere. So, mom obliged him and cooked everything up. What did I do? It looks a little something like this...

When I was at Whole Foods Market on Friday I grabbed a stir fry kit from the produce section anticipating an emergency kitchen situation. It had every color of the rainbow in it. I cooked up some chicken and tossed in the kit. I added a stir fry seasoning packet and some soy sauce and let her buck. Mom was cooking their dinner at the same time and couldn't help but comment on how good it looked. She loves those ribs, too, but she certainly did want some of my stir fry. Jump ship, mom, save yourself.

I sat with them at dinner despite my angst over doing so. It was father's day afterall. There I was, slowly eating my amazing stir fry, and feeling good about my choices when I found myself whole heartedly fighting the urge to punch Dad in the neck. He kept talking about his great potato wedges and his oooooh so amazing ribs and how perfectly she cooked the whatevers. Really, Dad? Really? Feel better now? I don't actually think they were intentional jabs at my efforts, this time, but more often than not, things like this get said with complete and utter intent to get under my skin...and it does.

Anyhoo, I got on the scale this morning. Not a great idea. It claims I haven't lost anything, but I think she's a lying bitch. I immediately chugged water and am hoping to break the dam before morning when I officially weigh in. If I haven't lost a decent amount I'm going to be about 20 kinds of pissed off. I made too many good choices and tried too hard not to have success tomorrow. Like, monuments erected in my honor success not "Here, take this piddley blue ribbon and smile for the camera." success. If you hear a blood curdling scream in the morning, that was just me.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

BBQ, Me and You

Unless you're a Green Mile fan you won't get the reference in the subject line, but this video still pertains to yet another BBQ I've survived. And this one? Just shows a clip of what Gold's Gym Cardio Workout is like. Can't stay. Toodles.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Can you smell...what the Rock is cookin'

The Rock, in this case, is not a muscle bound, rope climbing, body slamming, actor of the wrestling ring. The Rock? Is me. Though I shall never be able to pull off a pair of itty bitty man panties the way he does. Black is slimming, but it ain't that slimming. For breakfast I cooked up a little bagel breakfast sandwich. Whole wheat bagel with ham, 2 eggs, and reduced fat mayo. I didn't put cheese on it because, you know what? I decided a long time ago that I don't like fat free cheese slices. I kept eating them because I like cheese. Fat free cheese slices are not cheese. They are sad little squares of puke dressed up like cheese. I threw it all in this little infomercial sensation my brother and sister-in-law gave me for Christmas and it cooked it all right up, even the eggs. That thing is a miracle with a heating element.

Lunch is when I went overboard. Not "Oh no, fat girls gone over." kind of overboard where everyone panics and tries to find enough people to pull her back in. More like a super hot, confident, hair tossed over her bronze shoulders in slow motion, going to gracefully dive into the water kind of overboard. Intentional, poised, and no regret kind of overboard. I put a salmon steak in a piece of foil and circled it with broccoli, yellow squash, baby carrots, and cauliflower. I sprayed it with I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray (Mom and Dad could take a lesson here) and sprinkled it with a seasoning/herb/spice trifecta that I will likely never be able to match again. I wrapped it all up, put it in the oven, and voila...

I know, good right? There's more, as I ate it and thoroughly enjoyed it, I recognized I was satisfied and threw out about a quarter of the salmon (I know, I know, kids, somalia and shit. Well, me, fat and shit. If they wanna dig it out of my garbage, have at it). I'm starting to get a little hungry now and debating what my snack will be. Dinner is a couple hours away and I already know Mom and Dad are making hamburgers. They usually get the lean beef so I am going to go ahead and have one, but I might have to rethink the actual bread aspect. Maybe only the bottom of the bun, open-faced if you will, and none of those squares of puke dressed up like cheese for me, thanks.

Day 4 finds me still very much in control. It's made all the difference in my mood. Life has still been kicking me in no man's land and being in control of this one aspect has made all the difference. I feel like I can do anything, survive anything, when I can control this. Some of my past recruits of my Boot Camp weight loss challenge have sought me out for another one this summer. Because I have classes this summer, I can't do it the way I have in the past. Instead, just four of us are going to challenge each other and responsibilities are being divided so that it doesn't just rest on my shoulders. I think it will help keep all of us accountable to each other. First aspect of Boot Camp this year? The Crime and Punishment jars. Stay tuned.

Who's my bitch?

Dinners my bitch. I went downstairs last night and assessed what was being cooked. Fried potatoes, pork cutlets, and salad. I stared at it for a minute. I could eat the potatoes, but, no wait, they're probably cooked in a bunch of butter. I could have a pork cutlet, ooooh look at that, cooked in butter. At this point I wasn't even sure the salad didn't have butter on it, but I was going to give it the benefit of the doubt. I opened the freezer and pulled out a Black Bean Chipotle Gardenburger. I cooked it in a little olive oil (good fat doncha know). I put a little of my jalapeno hummus on a greek pita, put the Gardenburger on it and Mmmmm. I had that and a salad with light honey mustard dressing. I sat by myself and ate. I didn't want to sit and watch Mom and Dad eat their dinner. I'm not in control enough not to hate them for it. When it came time for dessert and Mom and Dad had ice cream...I had a Luna bar.

As I sat there eating all I could think about was being in control again. With every bite I thought about the choices I had just made and I was proud of myself. It would have been so easy to let Mom dish up a plate for me and eat what was put in front of me. It would have been so easy to keep heading down the wrong path instead of forging down the right path.

After dinner I went to my room. I'm in here almost all day every day that I'm home. It's just easier that way. I have computers, TV, Wii (contemplating mini fridge at this point) and not surrounded by bad food. I know myself. If I'm sitting downstairs being bored then I will fixate on what might be in the kitchen that I could eat. Up here? I get busy doing something like Wii or writing (ok, and maybe FaceBook) and don't think about it that much (I might also be so lazy that the thought of having to go downstairs to get something to eat takes the appeal out of it for me, but I'm not yet comfortable with admitting that). I sat watching TV and a commercial came on for More To Love. Anyone? It's a "dating show for the rest of us." It's The Bachelor for us larger folk. Have you ever watched The Bachelor and thought, "I could so knock those other bitches out of the running if I was a size 2?" No? Oh, guess that was just me. Well, either way, now you can. Should be controversial. Skinny people must be cringing realizing that fat is the new black. Either that or they're celebrating the fact that they can eat now. Here, I gotta pork cutlet with your name on it.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Never let it settle

Many people go through their lives settling. They get up every day and go to a job that they hate because it's easier than trying to find another one or because they resist change. They stay in relationships they know are bad for them if not at least moderately unhealthy because it's easier than being alone or because the dating scene is a hot mess and nobody wants that. They stay fat because spending every evening on the couch eating fast food and ice cream is way easier than getting exercise or resisting temptation. Is it? Is it easier?

Is sitting behind a desk listening to a nagging bitch of a boss make you feel worthless easier than finding a job where you're respected? Or maybe it's not that drastic. Maybe you're just feeling unchallenged, that you could be doing so much more with your life, and waking up every morning absolutely dreading facing another pointless day in the life of you. You're right. That sounds AWESOME!

Is having your stomach clenched up in knots as you hear the sound of your significant other's car pulling up easier than being single? Will you sit across from them at dinner, again, trying to mentally list all the reasons that you're with them and only be able to come up with "because it's better than being alone?" Are you changing who you are, being less than you are, because it's what you think they want you to be? Sign me up for that shit, quick!

Is eating whatever you want and never having to turn down food easier than waking up every day hating yourself? Is the 5 minutes of bliss while bellied up to a pint of Ben & Jerry's so much better than the embarrassment you feel when you can barely fit in a booth at a restaurant? Is it? Really?

Why do we settle for so much less than we deserve? Obviously the last example is a habit I've yet to break. I feel strong today, but how long will I? I did about two and a half hours of various Wii activity today and feel great (if great means sore). I didn't tally a win at the BBQ last night, but I didn't go bat shit crazy either. I did a little damage control before hand and stopped at the Whole Foods that is about a block from their house. I love Whole Foods. Just walking in there makes me feel like I'm doing something good for myself; like I'm fighting to eat better. I got some King Harvest Jalapeno Hummus (Portland made, naturally, and best) and some of the cutest ittiest bittiest pita rounds for dippin'. I also got some baked pita chips as well in case the chips they had beckoned. I gnoshed on those before dinner and when it came time to eat, I had one brat sans the bun and a hamburger (not bril, but not over the top either as I left off mayo and only used mustard and ketchup), and a tiny scoop of potato salad. I may or may not have had cookies afterwards, you have no proof. I had 3 of the Mojitos (so yum) that were purchased in my honor and when told to take the rest with me, I declined and told him to keep them for when I come back. I made choices. I didn't blindly put food on my plate without caring. I didn't pass off my accountability to another day. I chose what I was going to eat and drink without guilt or self loathing.

Today, all in all, I think I've done well. Aforementioned exercise; cereal & fat free milk; hummus & greek pita; wheat bagel with avocado, ham and it's time for dinner. I can hear it being made downstairs, but I have no idea what it is. I am prepared, though, to make yet another choice. So, take a minute to assess the ways in which you settle; the things in your life that you want and have the power to change. After that, make choices! Wish me luck, I'm goin' in!

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Video Diaries Are Scary...Take Two

If, as you watch this video, you're wondering what ghost opened the door and rattled her chains...that would be Lola. Ever the scene stealing whore.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Video Diaries Are Scary

Especially when they feature me with no makeup and my super short hair pulled back in a weaksauce ponytail. I've been trying to get last night's tragedy of a first attempt at the art of video uploaded, but it must be too long and blogger too cranky. I think it's likely the blog gods trying to save you all from seeing it.

Basically what it said was "recommitting. blah blah. 50 pounds by end of september. I look scary. Woes me." There, we don't need to see that sort of thing do we? I didn't think so.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Bow chicka bow wow

That's what you hear in every good weak plotted porn movie. Or, at least that's the sound everyone makes when they are referencing good weak plotted porn movies. It pertains to the cheesy music playing in the background while the pizza boy gets paid or the maid shows how well she can wax on while he wax off. If you engage in a conversation with your friends and you, too, hear "Bow chicka bow wow" they are suggesting that someone, likely you, is destined to get laid (see the comment on my last post from Tricia for proper usage and punctuation).

Last night I had my "date" with Alex. I use that word loosely. Like, Paris Hilton loosely. We were just two friends hanging out. Two friends that happened to sit at the same table to eat Thai and sit next to each other to watch a movie. We might as well have been brother and sister for all the action I got (Uh, excluding states like Arkansas where "Bow chicka bow wow" is heard at family reunions). We went Dutch (see what I did there? I'm dutch. He's dutch.) as all good friends do. He didn't open any doors for me or waste time trying to impress me with his impeccable table manners. At no point during the movie did he take my hand that was resting on my leg next to him. He did ask if I wanted anything when he went to get a snack during the previews (he just inhaled his Thai food like he's from a family of 12 and learned to fight for every bit of rice, but OK, go get a snack) and he did offer me some of his licorice. He did have his leg touching mine throughout the movie and did occasionally brush his arm against me. He may or may not have looked over at me during the movie, but he also could have been looking at someone else for as good as my peripheral vision is. It was either like two nervous teenagers on a first date knowing that dad was two rows behind them watching their every move or it was two grown ass adults one of which couldn't catch a clue if Miss. Scarlet handed it to him in the library with a signed confession wrapped around the candlestick.

I'm not sure how pertinent the events leading up to this date are to this post. The abridged version is that I overheard a conversation between he and Laura that went a little something like "I'm not even thinking about relationships right now. Focusing on school. I've been burned. Woes me. Just wanna start as friends and see what happens." At which point she suggested to him that we hang out, catch a movie and kiss. A few days later he's telling me that we should hang out. Yesterday we do. There was no kissing. There was a goodbye hug and a suggestion by him that the hanging out continue, but certainly no kissing. There were also lots of texts in my inbox from Laura suggesting that she could hear adorable little Dutch babies being made. Bow chicka bow wow indeed.

So there you have it; my strictly platonic non-date with Alex. And since I know you come here for my tragic attempts at weight loss not my tragic attempts at love, who wants to tell me how I'm going to lose 50 pounds before the end of September? Anyone? Anyone?

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Quick and dirty post

Alex and I are going to hang out tonight; just he and I.