Operation Shrink A Bootie

5 years not forgotten

2012-01-07T16:29:00.000-08:00

Before I embark on this post, you have to first reminisce with an oldie, but goodie.

Circa 2014

Where we're at. I am a freelance graphic designer and I work out of my home. It's still the house connected to mom and dad, but I am surviving and paying my bills by being self-employed. On January 17th I am getting on a plane and going to Belfast, Northern Ireland (with a layover in London so...doesn't that count as two?). I'm staying two weeks and spending as much time with someone that I've met as possible. I haven't lost 200 pounds (or the one twelve by oh twelve that I wanted to), but I have lost 30. I haven't learned another language, but I still have a couple years.

I cannot stress enough how important it is to believe you can do something. To imagine the things you want for your life and to set out to achieve them. You cannot reach goals without trying. You cannot make dreams a reality without taking action.

I'm keeping this one short and sweet. I know I don't post often. I've been a busy kid. Perhaps while I'm in Belfast I'll have juicy gossip to spread across the blogosphere. Happy New Year, everyone.

Change your mind

2011-07-01T14:42:00.000-07:00

The first step to changing your life, in my opinion (is there any other?), is changing your mind. Simple in concept, perhaps not so in execution...at least for most. Somehow, I have done it. There are a few contributing factors (being sick of being sick of myself is a solid start), but one thing that really helped me focus my energy was a book. One simple little book. Here, read this entry on my other blog. If you're open to the possibilities of everything positive thinking can bring to your life, read it. If you're just tired of trying everything and getting nowhere, read it. If you are surrounded by negativity and gagging to change it, read it. Better yet, practice it. Nuff said.

So, how has my mind changed? Assuming (because I'm gangster and I don't care if assuming is dangerous) that you have read my last entry (and if you haven't, what the hell?), you know some things that I've been doing. I mentioned my new arm graffiti and have safety-pinned a photo of it to the top of this entry for good measure. Beautiful, no? The kanji says Kaizen. Literally, Kai means "change" and Zen means "for the better." Now, it's typically a Japanese philosophy tied up with bows for the work place, but I like to repurpose philosophies just as much as flea market finds. It's about doing something every day to better your life. In the work place that would be things to work more efficiently, save money, produce a better product, keep clients happy, etcetera. In my life, it is applied to everything. Every single day I will do something, anything, to better my life. Maybe that's as simple as a bouquet of fresh flowers, journaling to purge my brain of clutter, a nap to boost the energy...if it brings you joy, moves you forward, helps you reach a goal, betters your life in any little way, or just simply makes getting out of bed worth it...do it. Eventually, the harder life improvement tasks (cleaning your house, looking for a job, eating healthy, moving more, taking care of yourself and living a great life) will get easier, or at least become something you can tolerate and get done anyway. The more of those things you do in a day the better. That's part one.

Part two is the L&G. The Love and the Gratitude. Let's face it, being in a bad mood and pissy about everything and whiney and bitchy is, more often than not, easier (far too easy for some). Finding the bright side to every bad situation takes epic creativity sometimes. However, how does the negativity make you feel? Tied up inside, anxious, a right cranky mofo? Usually, it even takes an actual physical toll on your body (tired, achey, sick). Now, how does positivity make you feel? How does a wicked good mood cause you any mental or physical distress? So, in the long run, which one is harder? Be thankful, be happy, be positive. Find joy in even the smallest things and eventually you'll find joy in everything. Focus more on what you do have than what you don't have (unless what you don't have is diabetes or cancer or the like, in which case, how's about being happy about that, too). If that new bouquet of flowers is literally the shining star in your day right now, then sit there and stare at them and bask in the glory that is petals and pollen until your entire being is smiling. Now find something else that makes you happy, rinse, and repeat. If the sound of a snoring puppy makes you giggle as hard as it does me, give your dog some Xanax and start laughing (I kid, naturally, no puppies were harmed in the bettering of my mood). Start thanking people. Thanking God (whoever your God may be). Thanking the Universe. Thank your mailman, your barista, your mom, your gynecologist. Whoever and whatever...just start saying thank you. Start imagining the things you want in and for your life with such great detail and enthusiasm that you feel like you already have it.

These are the first two things I've done to change my frame of mind and subsequently my life. I'll write about other things next time, but for now...Kaizen, bitches!

Be the author of your life story.

2011-06-03T12:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my 35th birthday. It was probably the best birthday I've had...which is weird considering I didn't do anything. I watched some TV, talked to a few friends, got some flowers from my aunt, had pizza with Mom and Dad followed by some super ridiculous dessert. I don't think I even left the house. Perfect. I had an amazing couple days with my sister last weekend going to a movie, out to dinner, out to breakfast, to a Portland Timbers soccer game...still, nothing profoundly epic, right? So what is different? What is so great about this birthday?

My attitude.

Those of you that have been following me for quite some time know how the last few years have been for me. Unemployed Student was my defining title for a couple of them and last year that downgraded to just plain Unemployed once I graduated. I would spend most of my days looking on the internet for job opportunities, jumping through any necessary hoops to apply, tweaking my resume to suit each job. More often than not I made myself look like I was dropping design like a bad habit and professing my unwavering desire to answer someone's phones for the rest of my life. I teetered on the edge of depression and sometimes fell head first into it. I found joy in nothing (especially blogging). I didn't want to be around anyone. And if I was forced to be around anyone I found it physically exhausting pretending like everything was ok with me and that I was still attempting to find the bright side to every situation.

My lowest lows were usually right before I was about to run out of unemployment money and when I wasn't sure what extensions I had left. As soon as I would find out I had another few weeks of grace I would breathe a sigh of relief and start all over again. I still didn't want to hang out with friends, though. I didn't want to explain what I was and wasn't doing. I didn't have it in me to listen to the great things they were doing...inevitably feeling worse about myself if I did. I didn't feel like I was particularly interesting to be around, so I continued to stay to myself. It's better to drown alone then to take everyone down with you as you scratch and claw your way back out, right?

Eventually, I stopped worrying so much. Eventually, I remembered that everything just has a way of working out for me. It always has. I have been quite lucky that way. I might worry and stress at the time, but my life is one example after another of how everything that happens is proven to be for the best. That everything has a way of working itself out and I come out stronger in the end. So what if I lost my job in February of 2008? I had grown to hate that job and losing it was a weight lifted off my shoulders and a chance to throw myself into school. So what if all the resumes I sent out resulted in zero phone calls? I have spent the last year dipping my talented hands into so many pots that I can now say that I'm a Freelance Graphic Designer, that I'm a writer, that I'm an artist, that I'm self-employed, that I'm a creative dynamo living the dream. Eventually, I surrounded myself with love and gratitude for everything. I stopped letting everyone else's baggage become my own, stopped walking on eggshells, stopped internalizing, stopped letting everyone else shine brighter than myself. Eventually, my weight stopped defining me, stopped holding me back, stopped mattering so. damn. much.

I find joy in everything now. I wake up happy. I think of something I want to do and I do it, or at least put into action whatever necessary to achieve it. I have sent away for my passport, finally, and I'm going to go to Ireland next Spring. I've lost almost 15 pounds in the last couple months. I visualize what I want and it happens. I said I would win the lottery, I won $4.00 (I need to learn to be more specific). I've always wanted to go to sporting events more often and now Portland has an MLS (soccer) team I couldn't be more excited about. So, I got my sister and I tickets to a few games and got us on the waiting list for season tickets for next year. A couple weeks ago I wanted a new tattoo, I went and got it the next day. It's big and on my forearm. It's to remind me to do something every day to better my life. It's working.

All these years of talking about bettering my life, of not taking the backseat approach. All this time wasted waiting to lose weight before doing anything. I'll get my haircut when I lose 20 pounds. I'll buy new clothes when I lose 50 pounds. I'll start traveling when I lose 100 pounds. No more. Maybe I won't get on a plane until I've lost more weight, but no one says I can't drive down to San Francisco or up to Canada. I've lived a life written by everyone but me. A life dictated by fear. I am the author of my life story and I'm choosing to make it an adventure. What will you write?

Twelve...

2010-11-29T11:02:00.000-08:00

drummers drumming? Not so much.

pounds of Thanksgiving food in my belly? No...though it felt like it.

job offers? Eff you for making such a cruel suggestion.

pounds lost? Bingo!

Twelve seems to be a pretty significant number right now. One Twelve by Oh Twelve? Twelve pounds down? Only 100 more and about 57 weeks to do it in to make my New Year's 2012 goal. That's about all the blog I have in me today. We are alive. We are kicking. We are fierce.

Calorie King

2010-11-12T11:34:00.000-08:00

blink. blink. blink.

I woke up and went next door to...wait, they'll wonder why I go next door to pee.

blink. blink. blink.

My bathroom...no, they don't really know I have a bathroom of my own yet, let alone that it's been undergoing remodeling for three months. Yes, three months. That's what happens when you let your brother...sigh, nevermind.

blink. blink. blink.

I moved into the house connected to...cheese and rice my brain is scattered this morning.

OK, I've been staring that this dagblasted blinking cursor for eons now trying to calm my brain and find a place to start and as you can see...epic fail.

Around the time of graduation, I worked on fixing up the house connected to mom and dad and summarily moved into it. No more stuff in storage. No more dealing with dad 24/7 or hiding in my little bedroom to avoid it. A slight, albeit modified, sense of freedom. Not having a job means I still rely on them for groceries/meals, that I'm not paying rent right now, and that I still feel like crap for each and every part of it.

Three months ago my brother started remodeling the bathroom (for which we are going to leave out all the details so that I don't go postal on a gallon of ice cream) so that I might some day get to take a shower in my own part of the house. This involved taking everything out of the bathroom and now I not only shower at mom and dad's, but go to the bathroom there as well.

Hence, this morning's debacle. I woke up...late...again...SFD (shitfuckdamn, the swear word trifecta)...and made my way over to M&D's with sleep still in my eyes. I walked by the living room and heard, "Hey..." I moaned in recognition of the somewhat primal greeting from my father and waited to hear, "Is it too late for you to go get us some breakfast?" I told him no and got all FML (fuck my life, the quick and to the point pity party) in the bathroom. I considered being strong and only getting him his breakfast of sin and me a coffee, but alas...my resolve, commitment, and will power were all still sound asleep and I was on my own as I headed to the King of the Burger (who is also some how reigning over the breakfast sandwich). I ordered. I came home. I ate. I looked up the calories. Enter more FML...here.

BK Breakfast Muffin 400 cal

Sausage Biscuit 420 cal

Creamer in my coffee 70 cal

Total 890 cal

Holy Mother of God and all things right and beautiful in the world...that's some breakfast. The real ball buster is that I was going quite often to Mr. McDonald's and getting far more than that or going at lunch and getting down right obscene. Oy Vey and OMG (If you don't know that one by now, you might as well crawl back in your cave and dwell).

So, that's how my day is starting and it will be finishing with a lot of meal skippage. I am suppose to cook dinner again tonight and the recipe IS dieter friendly, but I will have to be some kind of wonderful to get to enjoy it.

As for the routine I outlined a couple days ago...If you bump everything about an hour or two down in the schedule, I'm doing just fine.

K9 Rituals

2010-11-10T12:45:00.000-08:00

Every morning Lola wakes me up at whatever time she deems appropriate (usually based on how much movement she detects from me) and makes me take her out. If not for her I would likely sleep all day. On the average, she lets me sleep until 9:something (for which I love her for). After I take her out she puts around the house a moment making sure everything is as she left it the night before. You can almost hear her, "Bone? check. Snuggle blanket? Check. Bed in front of fire? Check." After assuring that everything is in order she heads back into my room and crawls under the covers to get some more sleep. I resist the urge to crawl back in with her no matter how tempting it may be and I start my day...however dreary it may be lately.

Sometime early afternoon she comes out and she seeks out the sun that may or may not be shining through my living room windows. It is Oregon, so those days are becoming rare, but if she finds it, she lays in it and follows it through the room all afternoon. She is committed to this part of her day and will often times contortion herself into awkward positions to achieve maximum sunning potential. Sun is on the wall behind the couch? Fear not, she will just lay on the back of the couch and rest her head on the wall (and, no, I am NOT kidding). If she doesn't find the sun, like today, she crawls under her snuggle blanket and commences with napping.

My dog has rituals. My dog gets up every day and, as long as I don't throw a wrench in her plans (which, let's be honest, wrenches are heavy and that would be like...exercise or something), she sets out to accomplish her goals. Granted, her goals aren't particularly lofty, but what she lacks in creativity...she makes up for with commitment. I need rituals. I need to have days where things happen in a certain order and there is structure. I need to have a schedule or I will inevitably do nothing.

So, here is my schedule for the first portion of my day...at least until I get a job.

8:00 am:

Pry my lifeless body from the clutches of my bed and take Lola outside.

8:15 am:

Participate in good hygiene with mundane things like teeth brushing and showering...shaving optional at this point. Get dressed in things that don't resemble sweats or pajamas (unless it's the weekend at which point, all bets are off). Blow drying hair and putting on makeup are optional until bathroom remodel is done (if ever done).

8:45 am:

Make a breakfast that makes me proud (and not in an "I can't believe I really just ate that" sort of way).

9:00 am:

Eat breakfast while using laptop for good; not evil. Look for a job, blog if the mood strikes, read blogs, check email(s), etc.

12:00 pm:

Make lunch in similar fashion as breakfast + more proud.

12:30 pm:

Clean up kitchen and various other household chores thus making me look productive(ish).

to be continued...

One Twelve By Oh Twelve

2010-11-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

Two pounds. They say that you should not lose more than two pounds a week. It's not healthy they say. It's not...realistic (for most people). And yet, I have often asked my body to lose more than two pounds a week to reach some absurd goal set by my good intentions (or demons that had taken over my good senses...I'm not sure which). Some would argue that telling myself that I will lose X amount by X date in and of itself is sabotage. That I will just hate myself when it doesn't happen. And though "doesn't happen" is typically the norm for me, what if it DOES happen. What if I CAN do it? I did it once before. I told myself I would be under 300 pounds for my...26th birthday was it? It was a lofty goal requiring significant losses each week, but something had clicked in me then and I did it. I got on the scale that morning and for the first time in probably a decade, I saw a weight that didn't start with a three. That, combined with having done what I set out to do, had me floating on air for weeks. A loss in the family and a surgery had me right back up in the 300's where I have not only stayed, but seem to have moved in with all my things as if I would never leave.

So, whether wise or not, I'm setting another date specific goal. Only this time it's, dare I say, realistic. I'm asking my body to lose less than two pounds a week. I'm asking it to lose about 1.87 pounds a week. I have started the One Twelve by Oh Twelve challenge. I am going to lose 112 pounds by January 1st 2012. That is 60 weeks from now and, though it will require steady amounts of focus and commitment, it is completely doable.

But...I am asking you to help me. I'm asking any of you who still read to keep me going. To check in on me when you haven't heard from me to make sure I've not been swallowed by my couch. To perform an intervention if I am hold up in a shack somewhere mainlining Ben & Jerry's. To take the needle from me regardless of what wildly inappropriate things I offer for one more hit. To remind me of One Twelve by Oh Twelve. Better yet, I'm asking any of you with at least 112 pounds to lose to join me in the quest. Come on, you know you want to.

Succeeding at failure

2010-11-08T10:28:00.000-08:00

I feel like crap. There, I said it. I've been nearly completely sedentary since school got out because, well, I'm depressed like no other. Yeah, I said that, too. I look for jobs and I play that game (which has even lost some of it's appeal for me lately). The rest of the time? I have no idea. All the days are running together for me. I'm not really watching much TV, not exercising, not socializing...that's for sure. I'm not doing meal preps, not planning my next great scheme, not honing my design talents. I clean every now and then. I take naps with Lola a LOT. I'm not really going anywhere...I can make $20 of gas last over a month usually. I've lost my spark...big time.

Have you ever been truly and utterly depressed? It's a viciously fucked up experience for sure. It's like you've been slipped one of those crazy drugs that paralyzes you, but you are completely aware of everything around you. You feel pain and emotions (although happy is an emotion that is scarcely apparent), but you are unable to move. You want to change, but you can't. You crave that happy person you were, but you can't find her. You could be on broadway with the acting skills you've acquired because you know that everyone in your world would implode if they knew how you were REALLY feeling. So, you pretend. Whenever you are around other people you pretend that everything is fine and nothing could get you down. You act as if you are completely in control. Well, you hate acting, but you are quite smitten with hiding...and so you do.

I haven't seen a single friend since I graduated. Until very recently, I hadn't even been to my sister's. My mom is convinced that, if not for the fact that my bathroom is still being remodeled and I need to use theirs, they would never see me even though I live next door. I've become a hermit. I've been depressed before, but it's only lasted a few weeks. This time, I can't quite seem to snap out of it. The only thing that I feel will do the trick is a job, but that has been nothing but crickets.

I feel like such a failure. Every day I eventually get out of bed and hate myself. That's a tough thing to face on a daily basis. I put on sweats and other stretchy garments and spend a couple hours convincing myself that hygiene is still important. I've abandoned water for diet pop, coffee, and tea. I won't eat until 2:00 and half the time it's fast food. I've gained back anything I lost and on the rare occasion that I do put on jeans, I am smacked with the reality that even my big jeans are tight. Enter more self-loathing...here.

I had a wow moment the other day, though. Something that has stuck with me for weeks and slowly pushed me into action the more I thought about it. Wait for it...

The only thing I've been consistently successful at is setting myself up for failure.

I know, right?! Since this is a weight loss blog (usually) we will address my failures as it pertains to that. Every time I recommit I set grand schemes full of good intention. I make unrealistic goals and jump in head first to a complete bog of failure. The logical person in me knows I cannot do it, but the blind optimist just says, "You go girl. You got this." And so I go...until I don't. I set out to run marathons, when I can't even walk a mile.

We are bypassing the "It's my Dad's fault" portion of my self-realization and fast forwarding to the "What do I intend to do about it" bit. I've decided that baby steps with a side of try harder is in order. Right now, every day that I move is a win. Every day that I eat breakfast is a win. More water, less pop? Win. No fast food? Win. These are the things I'm starting with. And what is my current weight loss goal? Tune in tomorrow and find out.

Three hundred fifty four (354)

2010-08-12T11:33:00.000-07:00

When you see something like a legal document and it is addressing numbers it often spells the numbers out and follows it with its fraternal twin sister, Numeral, in parenthesis. This is done, I assume, to ensure there is no miscommunication of just what that number is. Can't read "nine"? Here, let me dummy it down for you...(9). Better? Good. Three hundred fifty four (354) is what I weigh today according to my parent's scale. The good news is, my massive pity party that was extended over the last couple months didn't cause me to gain any weight. In fact, I lost a whopping two (2) pounds since I last weighed in. The bad news, I've only lost a whopping two (2) pounds since I last weighed in (the middle of May was it?).

So, what have I been doing? Absolutely nothing. At first I was renovating and moving into the house connected to mom and dad. I now have my own place again. Now I sit on my computer nearly all day. I skip meals and then eat a bunch of ice cream. I avoid friends and family as often as possible because I'm feeling so anti-social and because I don't want to be seen. I'm disgusted with myself. My appearance, my unemployed state, everything. I look for jobs, for which there are none, and it depresses me more and more. For the first time in my life I don't have a purpose. When I first lost my job it was ok because I already knew I was going back to school. School became my purpose. Now that school is over I have no real reason to even get out of bed.

I have never been much of a "gamer", but found one I seem to be addicted to. What's odd is that this game is nothing but being social in a virtual sense. It's like SIMS meets Skype or Yahoo. It's called SecondLife. Actually, in that game I am represented by a hot, curvy, voluptuous beauty that everyone seems to like. I can look like anything I want and be anything I want. I've made her look a lot like the real me...except my size. Most of the girls in this game are stick thin. I chose not to be. I chose to have a "real" woman's body with proportionate curves. She is fierce. She is what I wish I was.

What's strange is that as I sit here all this time watching myself depicted on screen by "Lila" and seeing this gorgeous girl that somewhat resembles me it has started to motivate me more and more. Her hair is my hair, her eyes are my eyes, her sassy ass attitude? All me. Her boobs are way too perky and she never has to wear a bra, but that is ME...as I wish I were. It's a mostly realistic version of the body I want.

So far Lila has gotten me to start playing Wii again and doing my fitness games and today I set my Bodybugg back up (haven't worn it since a few weeks after graduation). She's got me skipping less and less meals and making decent decisions, but she'll never get me to stop eating ice cream. I'm setting goals today and trying to snap out of this funk. I have no money. I have no job. I stay in my house...alone. Something's gotta give. So, what do I usually do when I feel I have no control over my life? I find something I can control and obsess over it. That thing is making myself be as fierce as this doppelganger named Lila. Hey...don't judge. You hang your motivational photos on your fridge and I'll hang Lila on mine.

Crickets. Crickets.

2010-07-21T13:57:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am alive. I will be posting soon...I think. Trying to sort things out. Stay tuned for all the juicy details.

I R A College Graduate

2010-06-11T16:46:00.000-07:00

and I expected to be more excited than this. I predicted the overwhelming realization that my life is chalk full of unknowns to set it, but it's not even that. It's not the fact that I don't have a job lined up or freelance projects coming in. It's not that school is done and I will hardly see the people that have become such great friends over the last two years. Mostly? I'm just flat out disappointed.

I've established that I'm not going through the graduation ceremony. It's just not my thing. For a designer, the only thing that matters is my portfolio. The fact that I was on the President's List every single term of my college career and had highest honors doesn't matter. The diploma and the degree don't even matter. In my line of work it comes down to one thing and one thing only. My book. How good am I (my sparkling personality just makes me a shoe in)? So, graduation ceremonies and such pomp and circumstance are inconsequential to me.

Today's portfolio open house was the complete opposite of that; this WAS my graduation ceremony. Today's open house was for industry people and teachers to see what we've accomplished and how we've grown, but mostly it was for everyone's family and friends to come see not only our work, but the work of the people that have helped us get through two monumentally tough years. In military speak, I have been hunkered down in the trenches with these people and they pulled me through. They pushed me to be better and do better always. They inspired me to create awesome every day. At the very least, my family could have seen if I actually DO have talent in comparison to the 30 other students in the room. Regardless of any of that, it was a day to show up, be a participant in my life, and support me. It was a day to pretend to give a shit, even if you don't.

I gave two MONTH'S notice so that people could maybe take a longer lunch or get a couple hours off and just do a quick walk through and meet a few friends and instructors that are important to me. I have given reminders and inquired as to whether or not they were going...I even did a shout out on Facebook. So how many people showed up to support me today? Zero. Nada. Zilch. Goose Egg. Not even my retired father could be bothered to pry the remote from his sweaty palm and show up. So, I met everyone else's family, friends, and significant others and fielded the questions about my absent family. Twas awesome indeed, but that's not even the most disappointing part. That honor is reserved for that simple fact that I KNEW no one would show.

It's at this point that I would like to tell you how it went and things that were said about my book and my work by everyone ELSE'S family, but alas...I feel myself slipping into a design induced coma. Later, perhaps.

Don't Worry...I'm Alive!

2010-06-01T11:40:00.000-07:00

Just checking in. Letting you know I've not succumb to anything too serious. One note of worth...I am not going to be taking summer classes and graduation will REALLY mean I'm done. It is both exciting and scary. Exciting because no more frickin' homework! Scary because that means no student loan checks to help me get by and will really and truly need a job ASAP (or lots of freelance work to do at the office space). GAH!!! Freakin' out. I have to get through TEN MORE DAYS!

I have no idea what I weigh right now. I do suck, I know. TEN MORE DAYS!

Barely there post by yours truly

2010-05-14T19:00:00.000-07:00

What's the tally, ho?

Weight = 356.2

Down 4.6

Total 13.8

We're back on track. Slightly behind a short term goal I set, but we'll make up for it.

Over and out!

Truancy

2010-05-13T10:45:00.000-07:00

noun:

a student who stays away from school without leave or explanation.

It's true. I've been playing hookey. Not from my "legit" classes, although I haven't been particularly enthused about them, I've not missed even one and am doing fairly well. It's the gym. When this term started I decided to try and treat the gym and weight loss and watching what I'm eating like a class because I put everything into my education. I thought I could put that same tunnel visioned focus towards the gym and kick some serious ass.

And that's what I did, at first. Now? Now I am experiencing some difficulty. I signed up to cook Monday through Thursday so that I could have more control over what we were eating. I got so tired of my dad turning up his nose at the simplest meals (even if he inevitably liked them) or hearing about how he's had to eat chicken twice a week that I've gone on strike. I haven't cooked in a couple weeks which has been affecting how calorie counting has been going.

Last week I only went to the gym on Tuesday and this week? Haven't been yet. Part of it is trying to go to my studio space a few times a week and this week it's because the last two days I've been hanging out with a boy. Lame. I've got this tool (the Bodybugg) to help me keep it all in check and I'm not even making the most of it the last couple weeks. I've been lucky to meet my burn a couple times a week let alone every day. It ends...here.

On the days that I go to my office I need to make sure I get up earlier so that I can leave early enough to still come home and cook dinner. I need to make sure I have the meals planned by Friday so that my mom can get the groceries over the weekend and I'm good to go for the week. I need to adjust which days I go to the gym so it doesn't affect that and start using the Wii more to offset not being able to get to the gym quite as often. I can juggle all of this. I have to...people do it all the time and I am not going to use living life as an excuse to fall back into my old patterns.

The sun is shining and I have a ton of homework to get done today, but I will put the top down, drive to the gym, and get in a weigh in and a workout. You'll be hearing from me again soon.

Commercial break

2010-05-06T22:28:00.000-07:00

alternate title: shameless plug for a blog that isn't mine so that I can enter a contest and garner forgiveness for not rigging my giveaway so that she would win.

Check this chick out and follow her...now!

Protein overdose

2010-05-04T16:30:00.000-07:00

Mom got a new blender yesterday. Her old one has been a piece of carp since the day we got it. Smoothie making has been a rarity. Well, rarity no more. I went to the grocery store and stocked up on a few things. No real recipe in mind. It had been so long since I made one I wasn't entirely sure what was in them anymore. I've never been particularly afraid of winging it, though.

I went to the yogurt section and decided I'd go for a greek yogurt knowing they are so high in protein. I've only tried Fage before, but saw a big carton of Chobani. It's fat free and has 23 grams of protein. I procured a 100% Whey Protein powder as well figuring if a lot of protein is good for you then a shit load must be AMAZING (I will let you know if my body tells me otherwise)!

I grabbed a few bags of different frozen fruit goodness and came home to concoct what may very well be the best smoothie I've had in a while (in my opinion obviously) It's 443 calories, 54 grams of protein, and 3.5 grams of fat. My belly is happily full and with all that protein I should feel that way for a while, no? Sadly, in my eagerness, I drank it before snapping a photo. It was a light purple beauty with flecks of green. Not too thick, not too runny. Mmm Mmm Good. Try it for yourself.

Mixed Berry Protein Smoothie

1 cup Chobani Non-fat Plain Greek Yogurt

1 cup Silk Light Vanilla Soy Milk

1 cup Whole Frozen Unsweetened Mixed Berries (Blackberries, Strawberries, Raspberries & Blueberries)

1 cup Baby Spinach

1 scoop Vanilla EAS 100% Whey Protein Powder

Note: Still drinking these, but making 1/2 a batch at a time. The full batch was just a wee bit too much and there usually isn't anyone else here to drink the rest.

Pomp and Circumstance

2010-05-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

What's the tally, ho?

Up 2.7

Total 9.2

Boooooooo

In other news...I got an email from my school that informed me that I would, in fact, be graduating with honors. That I would be allowed to wear the chords around my neck signifying my super smart status at the commencement ceremony. One must have a GPA of 3.75 or higher to attain such fashionable duds. One problem...I'm not partaking in the graduation ceremonies (much to my mother's dismay).

When you grow up my size you don't look forward to landmark events the way normal girls do. I had no desire to go to prom, the homecoming dance was more agony than fun, I never spent hours upon hours dreaming of a future wedding and I sure as hell never wanted to dawn a giant robe in front of thousands and parade across a stage. I did it in high school for my parents. I don't think they knew how much I didn't want to do it and how hard it was for me. As much as it seems to mean to my mom that I do it, at almost 34 years old, I've decided once is enough...honor chords or not.

It's not a matter of letting my weight hold me back from doing something I really want to. I'd much rather just have a party and move forward. There is no part of me that wants to do this...skinny or not. Sorry, mom, but it's just not going to happen.

I worked on moving into my studio over the weekend and worked there for a few hours yesterday before I had to do other things. It will be awkward at first I'm sure. I didn't head there until around 11 and everyone was working away. I didn't want to interrupt anyone to introduce myself and was only there for about three hours so the only two people I met were the girls in my immediate area. They will be moving out in a couple weeks. I didn't go today, but tomorrow I will make a point to meet someone new.

As for the weight gain. I know, lame. I really need to keep my sodium intake in check and there's a couple things seriously lacking from my diet...fruits and veggies. Must overhaul.

Drumroll, please...and don't forget the hi-hat.

2010-05-01T18:33:00.000-07:00

Ladies and gentleman, we have ourselves a winner!

Congratulations, TJ. Send me your address and let me know which color you would like (cyan, magenta, yellow, or black). Thanks for playing and stay tuned for my next giveaway.

A leap of faith

2010-04-30T01:21:00.000-07:00

I wasn't expecting any spots to open up for another month or two within the office spaces I've been courting. As you know, yesterday I got an email telling me that something opened up and to please come look at it because she secretly hoped I would be smitten and choose that location. Smitten I was.

As a morbidly obese woman I am forever concerned with perception and judgements. I try not to let it paralyze me, but at some point during every day (unless I never leave the house) I have a moment of insecurity about my weight and what someone else might think. Throughout the phone calls and emails with the two people that run these creative coops I've been told how well they think I'll fit in, how much they hope I'll love it, and made to feel like I was fabulous (and not in a sales pitch sort of way). When I went to check out these office spaces I was nervous. Nervous that once they met me and saw the 360 pound girl making an entrance all would be lost. I would no longer be the cool designer chick they liked so much. I was more nervous to meet these people, whose world I so desperately wanted to be a part of, than I was to meet the boy taking me to lunch afterwards.

If you are my size you always expect to be the biggest person in the room, but you hope that everyone else in the room is accepting. Here, at this new location, I felt accepted (that's not to say I wasn't at their other location, but it was different). Sarah was late so I was waiting just inside for her. From the second she opened the door she had the biggest smile and was giddy to have me there. She gave me a tour and towards the end I pointed to the spot I wanted and gushed, "I want that spot." She got a huge smile, her shoulders hunched up and her head cowered down and she said, simply, "Yay." Everyone that I was introduced to seemed hugely excited to have me there. It felt like home. I wrote her a check. I can move in Saturday. And so it begins.

It's a right of passage for me. It's a leap of faith. It's believing that I can do anything I put my mind to and it's taking the necessary steps to live the life I've always wanted. My weight has kept me from doing things like this in the past. I've been content to live a life steeped in the belief that I wasn't good enough. That I would fail and it would be somehow ok because, at my size, it's just expected. Well, I am not defined by my weight. I don't fit the stereotype that people lump me into. I am destined for great things because I will bust my ass to get them and always remember the girl that thought she never could.

So, I challenge you to take your own leap of faith. To find something you thought you could never do and prove yourself wrong. Start changing your life one day at a time.

Best. Workout. Ever.

2010-04-28T19:46:00.000-07:00

I had a bit of a pep in my step at the gym today. I checked in and ran up the stairs to the cardio level. I went into the women's only section like a woman on a mission. On tap? Resistance training. I went through a few machines, mixing arms and legs, and worked in a little bit of free weights as well. I stood on the BOSU ball and got my balance. I started doing squats. Then, I would stop, mid squat, and hold it. And hold it. And hold it. Legs trembling. Then back up for more of the same.

Then I went to the treadmill and tried to beat my 23 minute mile. Yes, that's right...it usually takes me about 23 minutes to walk one mile. I can't ever walk too fast because my shin splints will kick in. I was pumping my arms and walking with intention. Listening to The Script and puttin' right along. Today? I did my mile in 21:10. Shin splints were screaming by about 18, but I pushed through it. Then I had to stand there for a bit to let them relax before I could step off and go to a bike. I finished the workout with some time on the recumbent bike. I left there sweaty and empowered.

Monday (and into Tuesday) I was all up in some woes me. Pathetic really. I've been doing really well. I can't really say I've been perfect, particularly where drinking water is concerned, but pretty spot on all in all. I have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to repent for or apologize for. I've been working out 3 or 4 times a week and yet I felt like I wasn't doing enough. Still felt like a failure. What's THAT about? Anyway, I decided last night that I needed to just STFU and move forward. And so I did.

Tomorrow I am going to check out the other location of the creative coop that I checked out a couple weeks ago. This one is in a super cool building that has art panels as a sort of shutter. There's a cool restaurant on the 4th floor, too. The coop is on the 3rd floor so, that means stairs. I like the neighborhood better that the other location is in, but this building is pretty cool. I'll see tomorrow. They have a few spots opening up on May 1st! If the people are great and the space is great I just might go for it. There is no telling when a spot is going to open at the other location.

I'm also going to a book bindery to see what they can do for me when it comes to a custom portfolio. After that, I may or may not have a date.

Bobble Head

2010-04-27T18:52:00.000-07:00

I got my order of bobbles today. My drawing is still going on for those that want a chance to win a bottle that filters water for your enjoyment. See this post for details. For something so small in stature it's hard to believe what it does for the earth. It's a hard plastic material so the bottle will last and the filter is good for two months before you need a new one. All told, it prevents 300 water bottles from hitting your local landfill. And it's pink! (or blue, or black, or yellow, etc).

Sorry I've been AWOL over the last week, but a. I've not had a lot to say, b. homework up the wazoo, and c. I'm kinda feeling like my blog is just going through the motions despite all the work I've put into it. Does anyone care? Does anyone even still read? I used to put a LOT of thought and effort into my writing trying to be so witty and comical. Now? Not so much. Now I just write, whatever comes to mind, with very little creative chutzpa. Note to self: Must work on this.

For those that are looking for a weigh in? Not happnin'. I didn't go to the gym today. I got my exercise renovating The Love Shack. I don't know why I call it this, other than it's better than saying "The addition to my parent's house that doubles as an apartment for many family members." See? Now you understand the nickname. My cousin and her husband had lived there for about 5 years and moved out in December. Every once in a while I go over and start tackling all the things that need to be done to fix it up. The list is long and I don't have time. Dad sure as hell isn't going to pull himself away from training for the Lay-Z-Boy Olympics and mom works all day so...that leaves me. Needless to say, it's slow going.

I also didn't go to the gym because I had no intention of weighing in anyway. I am retaining water. I don't feel like I've lost anything. I didn't want to see proof of that on the scale. Worse, I didn't want to see a gain. Had a really bad self-esteem day yesterday and spent today trying to snap out of it. Seeing a gain on the scale is not the most effective way to do that.

I have been eating some pretty snazzy things, though.

My standard Kashi Warm Cinnamon cereal with Silk Light Vanilla Soy milk.

I made a, dare I say it, kick ass stir fry one night.

Salmon Patties, Fat Free Cottage Cheese, Asparagus, and Long Grain Wild Rice.

Now this little number deserves an explanation. I have started putting this Yoplait Chocolate Mousse Whips in the freezer for a couple hours and topping it with Fat Free Cool Whip and having this for dessert at night instead of ice cream. It's pretty darn yummy.

Last night I marinated chicken in Lawry's Oriental Sesame Marinade (I think that was the name). Yummy. So this morning I cut some up and did a little Egg Beaters scramble with the chicken and a little sharp cheddar on top. Had a glass of Silk and a high fiber english muffin with a little Barney Butter.

Today's lunch was some hummus, a whole wheat pita, and a sugar free pudding with fat free cool whip.

My afternoon snack was another bit of yogurt goodness. Yoplait Thick and Creamy Key Lime Pie with a 1/4 cup of Bear Naked Vanilla Almond Crunch Fit Granola. Super good.

I made fajitas for dinner, but no photo. My bad. Mom got three or four more pints of Ben & Jerry's, too...I make no promises. They are new flavors and they deserve my attention.

Earth Day Giveaway!

2010-04-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

Last year, Americans sent 38 Billion bottles to landfills across the nation. By switching to reusable water bottles you can keep an estimated 300 single-use bottles from reaching those landfills. It's time to Bobble your water and I'm going to help a few lucky people do just that.

Remember that water bottle I was swooning over this summer? With the built in water filter? The Water Bobble? I've got a few coming my way and I want you to have one, too (and possibly you...and you). So, I'm choosing Earth Day to ring in my first giveaway (and if saving the earth isn't a good enough reason, you can save $1,000 a year by switching to a reusable water bottle if you currently buy bottled water).

So how do you get your hands on one of these little gems? Well, I'll tell ya...

1. Leave a comment on this post telling me another step you're going to take this year to reduce your carbon footprint.

2. Show me that you blogged about my giveaway.

3. Show me that you tweeted, chirped and otherwise pimped my giveaway on Twitter.

4. For every new follower that does No. 1 and tells me that they found me from your blog, tweet, or email...you get another entry.

Just make sure that all this craziness is documented in the comments of this post and you have lots of ways to enter to win (yes, this means multiple entries if you do all of these).

I will randomly choose the winners Saturday, May 1st, at 3:00 pm Pacific. Contest open to US and Canadian residents. You will be required to give me your address if you win because shipping will be done by me. These are gifts from me, not from the Water Bobble company.

Now, go plant a tree or something, but do NOT buy anymore bottled water!

Beached

2010-04-20T16:14:00.000-07:00

What's the tally, ho?

Weight = 358.1 (sorry, no pic. Left phone in car)

Down 3.1

Total 11.9

Managed a miracle considering I was at the beach all weekend.

Things have been a little crazy since I last posted. Wednesday got away from me after dealing with unemployment, doing homework, having my phone call with a Bodybugg coach, running to school to pick up some funds, and so on. Never made it to the gym.

Thursday was a designated day off so that I could run errands (like Whole Foods Market and Trader Joe's) and go check out the potential office space. I am in love with it and hoping a spot opens soon. They think I'll fit in well there and it sounds like it's all mine if I want it. Yes, please. It will be so awesome to run my business from a legit place and then be able to shut it all off and go home and relax (most of the time). New chapters, new life, new everything.

Friday I had class and then headed to the beach until Sunday. I had no internet save for what I could get with my Blackberry. It was so nice. I could sit on the couch at the beach house and see the ocean through the sliding glass doors. The weather was great and the door was open most of the time and I could listen to the waves crashing on the shore. I'm blessed to live in a place as beautiful as Oregon. We played a lot of games and watched movies. Consequently, I didn't get any homework done and yesterday was chaos as I tried to dial it all in before a midnight deadline. Whew!

I was pretty shocked at weigh in after all I ate over the weekend and the fact that I didn't count one calorie for three days. I decided not to worry about it while gone since I wouldn't be able to access all my info on the Bodybugg site with no internet. I was ok with it, but it made getting back into the swing of things a little more difficult. I really really have to watch what I eat and do this week because all these great weight losses are going to result in something not so pretty next week. I will have to drink tons of water and hope for the best. Scratch that, I will have to work my butt off (literally).

Spice route gone wrong

2010-04-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

What's the tally, ho?

Down 6.0

Total 8.8

Am fierce

On the way home from the gym I picked up some birthday pressies for my mama. I got her some things to plant in the veggie garden and a super pretty Columbine. I brought a bunch into the house and my Dad's childhood friend, Wes, was here visiting. I said Hi and went to get the rest of the goodies. As I came back into the living room Wes said it looked like I had lost weight. He said he waited until I walked back out and asked Dad before saying anything just in case I hadn't. Dad told him I'd been working on it so he was in the clear to comment. Thanks, Wes!

Wes is very sick. He's on Oxygen and is rockin' a tracheotomy. He uses a walker and when he got up to go use the bathroom he got so dizzy that we had to try and get him back in the chair before he ended up on the floor. This is my Dad's best friend. They grew up in Florida together and came to Oregon together. It pains my dad to see him this way. As he was working his way out the door to head home he stopped and told me to keep it up...that I'm looking good. Who knew 8.8 pounds was so noticeable. It must be the navy blue shirt and black pants. Slimming.

After Wes left Dad was going on and on about how sick Wes is and that he doesn't figure he has another year to live. I said, "I'm going to say something and you can get as pissy as you want, but...I would appreciate it if you would do something to prolong you being in Wes' shoes for as long as possible because that's where we all predict you'll end up before long." He said he wouldn't end up like Wes, he'd just drop dead. Alrighty then. Good talk, Dad. Good talk.

And so it goes...

Lil Hummus, pita, pudding, and tea for lunch and Peanut Butter Cookie LARABAR for snack. Then came time to start cooking dinner. On tap? I decided to try a lil something from the Indian Spice Route.

It involved fancy things like turmeric, ginger, coriander, cardamom, and the like. I believe it's the most exotic I've ever been.

Well, me and exotic are no longer friends. Chicken Curry was a complete failure. This...

was dinner. Why, yes, that IS country potato bread, but it's a hell of a lot better than the Burger King that Mom and Dad are bellied up to right now. SFD (Translation = ShitFuckDamn, the swear word trifecta)!!

All in all, though, I'll still chalk to today up as a win. Although, I've gotten absolutely no homework done because curry disasters take hours. Might not be blogging it out tomorrow, but I'll definitely let you know how the walk through on the office space goes.

It's not delivery OR DiGiorno

2010-04-12T21:19:00.000-07:00

I had a pretty decent workout at the gym today, but not very long. I had a lot to do and needed to make it quick. I snagged a McDonald's Southwest Salad with Grilled Chicken on the way home. Love this salad.

I got adventurous in the kitchen again and made pizza for dinner tonight. I make calzones for Mom and Dad quite often, but I just use some sort of instant pizza dough like Pillsbury or something. Today I made the dough from scratch. I also made the sauce from scratch. I put turkey pepperoni, canadian bacon, mushrooms, olives and some cheese (a little bit of sharp and some reduced fat four cheese italian blend). That crust was super tasty. I'm not going to say it was the most healthy dinner, but it was better than what I would have gotten somewhere else. I'm going to try a whole wheat crust one of these times.

I have a crazy week ahead. I have to get a LOT (and by a lot I mean a shit load) of homework dialed in before I go to the beach for the weekend, hit the gym on Tuesday and Wednesday, have some phone coaching thing with a Bodybugg coach on Wednesday, coffee with a friend Thursday to do homework together and then...

On Thursday I am meeting with someone that runs a creative services coop. Meaning, 10 people share the space and run their own businesses out of it. We each have a "pod" (aka cubicle of sorts) and do our own things, but we share the basics. The huge layout table, the conference room, the kitchen, the copier, etc.

We'd also share opinions, feedback, some laughs and some coffee. It's having my own business while still getting to socialize with like minded individuals. Bliss. I am still going to be looking for a full time job so I get some of that real world experience, but Pixel Dust will have a home. There are two locations in Portland and they have a space opening at the location pictured above. I'd have 24/7 access to the building so even if I got a "job" I could do my own thing on evenings and weekends. Ideally, though, business will be booming soon enough and I can focus all my attention on making my design studio a success. Giddy. Graduation is looming and big things are on the horizon.

Easy like Sunday morning

2010-04-11T22:00:00.000-07:00

My mom has these tea cups. This is one from the set of four. They've always been there, on this rack that hangs on the kitchen wall that has pegs to hang coffee cups. They sit on the shelf it has above the pegs. No one ever uses them. I've always thought they were the ugliest things. Suddenly in the last month they have become the sweetest little tea cups in existence. Each cup has a different image of bright little flowers and are quite happy making. How things change as we get older and appreciate a simpler time. Today I made a cup of green tea and put a skosh of Silk Light Vanilla Soy Milk in it. Delish. It almost made a day of homework bearable.

With my tea I had Kashi Heart to Heart Warm Cinnamon with more Silk. I can't seem to find this cereal in my town so I occasionally snag a couple boxes whenever I get to Whole Foods. I also snagged a bunch of LARABARS while I was there. I still had never tried them and hear so much talk about them.

This one was Key Lime Pie. Not one I'll get again and I'm hoping the others are better. I got quite a few different kinds. Maybe my first LARA experience shouldn't have been so exotic. Peanut Butter Cookie sounds about right. Will give that a shot tomorrow.

For lunch I cooked up two Black Bean Chipotle Gardenburgers and made an open-faced sandwich. It seems like so much more food when you do it that way. I used my homemade hummus instead of mayo and slapped a little lettuce on there. I love love love these gardenburgers. Yet another thing I can't find in my town and have to get at Whole Foods (have I mentioned how eager I am to move back to Portland)?

I might have had another Jell-O Mousse Temptations, too, but don't try and guilt me. They are only 60 calories and that is fat free Cool Whip my friends.

Oh...and according to Steaz, I am balanced. Though I am successfully sitting on a stability ball with utmost balance, I don't FEEL very balanced. Thanks anyway, Steaz.

I'm considering doing a little challenge or giveaway or combo. For the last few summers I have donned the hat of Sergeant Shrinkabootie and coordinated a weight loss boot camp with people that expressed interest through weightwatchers.com. It was a LOT of work and I don't have the time for it as it was previously defined. I was thinking, though, that I could take some of the weekly challenges that I used to come up with and pose them to you all. I'll keep track of who wins week to week and winner gets a prize...from me (which is more than anyone got from me during previous boot camps). Lose weight AND get a prize? That's win win right there. Any interest?

Black and Blue

2010-04-10T20:45:00.000-07:00

Not me, silly. My dinner. I made Black and Blue Bacon Burgers.

Black = black angus ground beef (I just use any ol' lean ground beef)

Blue = blue cheese

Bacon = real bacon bits

I take a portion of ground beef that I'd normally make a pattie out of and divide it in half, making two thin patties. I put about a tablespoon of crumbled blue cheese and a tablespoon of real bacon bits (beats cooking bacon) in the center of one of the thin patties and spread it out a little bit. I put the second pattie over that and pinch the edges to keep the goodness inside. I shape it back into a better looking burger and cook it up. Voila. Black and Blue Bacon Burger. I used a sandwich thin and the rest of the condiments are pretty much up to you.

And earlier today, I did a little more math.

All this...

divided by this...

plus this...

equals this.

I made hummus. Like, from scratch. Mom got Dad a Cuisinart for Christmas and he had never taken it out of the box (it's hard to find time to cook when you're training for the Lay-z-boy Olympics, donchaknow). I decided to take matters into my own hands and deboxed that bitch. I found a recipe, tweaked it a bit, and it's pretty dang good. Still needs a little work. When I get it dialed in I'll toss the recipe at you.

And guess who has so many calories left that she gets Ben & Jerry's tonight? This girl. Homework calls.

Make it Sparkle.

2010-04-10T19:00:00.000-07:00

After my twelve hour day on campus yesterday, and heading home at 9pm, I stopped at Whole Foods Market because I needed to get some Tahini to try my hand at homemade hummus. I love that place, have I mentioned that? I believe I have. I feel ever so slightly lighter on my feet just walking in there. It almost makes the higher prices worth it for this girl. It's the little things. I got all sorts of new goodies that I've been wanting to try, but haven't ever braved. This renewed sense of weight loss empowerment has me wanting to be more adventurous and try all sorts of new things. Know what that means? Reviews.

I contacted a couple companies for samples just for S&G's and so far I'm waiting for my delivery from the ever so kind Vitalicious crew. I'm an unemployed student for cryin' out loud. Trying all sorts of new things is a risky endeavor when you're reserving all of your money for your graphic design habit. Needless to say, I was super excited when they eagerly replied to my email. Love them already.

Where was I? Oh, yes, Whole Foods. As I was walking through looking for things I've wanted to try I was enamored by all the packaging. I know there are some artsy chicks that read my babble, but I don't know if anyone has an appreciation for the Graphic Arts. It is my crack. What was a minor crush pre design education has become a full on love affair (which is good since it consumes 99.9% of my time). Part of my habit includes packaging. When you are a design(erd) you see things in an entirely different way. For instance, you pass a billboard and say "Oh, look. Air Supply is going to be at the casino" (who knew). I pass the same billboard and say something like "Did they REALLY just use Papyrus?" or "For the love of God! You could drive a bus through the space between that A and that I. Kern that SOB!" Road trips for you involve games of Eye Spy and the Alphabet game. For me? It's one big mass opportunity for logo critiques. I am the queen of offtrackedness today, no?

I came upon Steaz Zero Calorie Sparkling Green Tea. I felt flushed. The packaging appealed to my inner minimalist. White and clean with a lovely patterned flower. I wanted it. I wanted it bad. One problem. I hate sparkling water. There, I said it. I do, however, love green tea. So, there I stood, at a crossroads.

You might be able to resist it, but I? Cannot. Lovely packaging coupled with promises of zero calorie goodness is more than this girl can handle. Sustainably sourced, fair trade organic green tea? Sweetened with the leaves from the stevia plant? What choice did I have?

I just took one out of the fridge and am ready for the steaz experience. I'm sure many of you have already partaken, but I have been locked in classrooms and out of the loop. This will happen often as you read my reviews. I'm behind the times. I popped the top on the little gem and Shut The Front Door. Steaz comes with a side of wisdom on every cap. Today, apparently, "I am energy" (or so the cap says). Giggle. I felt a little spunkier just having been told so.

I took a sip. Hmmm. Another sip. Definitely better than sparkling water. Sip. Not quite like green tea. Sip. It's pretty. Sip. I suppose I can drink this. In a nutshell. I'm not swooning over the contents near as much as I was the outer pretty. I think it will be a nice switch when I'm tired of drinking plain water. I think that those that are fans of sparkling water would love it. I also think that the more sips I take the better it is. It might just be one of those better at the bottom things meaning...some things just grow on you after a while.

One more thing...even though I got home late, I sat down at my usual spot (notice the balance ball that I use as a chair) to work on homework and once mom and dad went to bed I watched my DVR'd Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. So sad. Made me tear up. This show provides inspiration beyond what Biggest Loser ever manages to. He went to a mortuary and you saw ginormous caskets built for the obese. You heard about how they have to explain to the families that their loved one won't fit in a regular casket, that the large caskets won't fit in their hearse and that they will have to buy two burial plots at the graveyard. And just when you think that doesn't apply to you because you're one for cremation you find out that's not so much the case. You see, when morbidly obese people are cremated they go up like roman candles because of all the fat in their bodies and there isn't really anything left in the way of ashes. It was profound. It was creepy. It was an awakening. I heart you Jamie Oliver. Truly, madly and maybe even deeply.

Great Expectations

2010-04-08T22:55:00.000-07:00

I had big blogging plans today. Took photos of what I ate, thought of witty things to say, etc. Then a design brief happened. Basically I had to write a paper on what I intend to do for my portfolio, talk about my work, what I might put in it, what format the book might take, images of potential looks for it, and list 10 or more firms/studios/people/places/things I'd be interested in working for (hereforto known as the WhoToWoo list). Only, I didn't know it was this involved. Why? Because I am apparently no longer "that girl." I was that girl. You know, the girl that always has her shit dialed in no matter what class? She knows what's due and when and is never late? She gets assignments done ASAP and is crazy girl scout prepared no matter what? Yeah, that girl. I put this off all week and then when I looked at what was expected had a holy shit moment and panicked. I just got it done. It took four hours and is only a page and a half long. The good news? I'm not sure. I might know what portfolio I'll be using for my book? It might involve laser etching...just saying. SWOON!

Anyway, as promised...more cowbell.

I didn't eat breakfast before going to the gym which made me all wobbly and weak and resulted in a 30 min treadmill experience followed by, well, bailing.

Then I ate Subway.

Which might have been followed by Jell-O Mousse Temptations with Fat Free Cool Whip. Nom Nom Nom.

PM snack involved this lovely little fruit in one of mom's retro lil bowls. You know the kind. The one's you thought were completely hid(eous) when you were young but now secretly hope you get should she end up wearing cement galoshes and swimming with the fishes at some point (could happen, she's wiley that one).

Then all madness happened as I tried this hot lady's recipes for Pork Loin Roast with Gravy, Smashed Root Veggies and Roasted Broccoli. The kitchen was a tornado zone by the time I got done. My favorite was the smashed root veggies. I had never tried a turnip before. Go me for being all culinarily adventurous.

Somewhere around the 3 hour mark of my design brief there may or may not have been some Ben and Jerry's, but since there is no photographic evidence, you cannot prove it and thus...it never happened.

This blog needs...

2010-04-07T22:29:00.000-07:00

but since I don't have a cowbell you'll have to settle for photography. I love photos and I love my camera. From snapshots to professional grade perfection I just heart it. I've been integrating more images lately, but they've been from the internet. A while back I was taking pics of the food I was making. I think it's time I kicked that back into gear now that I get to cook more often. For tonight, I have two quickly snapped photos just to show you why it's so impossible to lose weight around here.

This little gem is the Easter "flower" arrangement that's in the middle of the dining room table. That is my view nearly all day every day as I do homework and read your blogs and write my own. Yes, those are cupcakes. I have not had any, though they mock me terribly. Eff the Easter bunny.

And this is at eye level in the big freezer in the utility room. Mom got eight cartons of Ben and Jerry's because they were on sale for a buck something. That woman can't pass up a sale, bless her little heart. She stacked them ever so perfectly next to the Entenmann's. I can't say I've been as strong facing this demon as I have the cupcakes. The last two nights we have split a carton between the three of us. There are supposed to be four servings in a container. Is it me, or did they used to be a single serving? Oh, right, that is just me. Oops.

Snappy new digs.

2010-04-07T17:03:00.000-07:00

I decided it's time to give the ol' blog a facelift (as you can see). Will keep working on it, but thought that crazy header up there would set me apart from the crowd a little better than the generic trash I had up there before. Haven't had time to add the sass factor (and probably still shouldn't have now that I've pissed away an entire day doing it), but I've decided to always make time for sass.

I didn't go to the gym today (I blame Aunt Flo) so I broke out the Wii games and worked off about 350 calories. Better than nothing. Might knock more out later if my Uterus stops harshin' my gig. According to the ol' Bodybugg I'm on track for meeting my burn today, though. Go me n' stuff.

Sync'd up?

2010-04-06T16:17:00.000-07:00

You know how women "sync up" when they live together or work together closely? Where our TOM's all start happening at the same time? Are we women of the diet blog world syncing up? I've been catching up on blogs and finding new one's and oddly enough, nearly every freakin' one of them is talking about Aunt Flo or TOM right now, myself included. It's like we're in some odd little sorority of sorts. Luckily for the men reading our blogs, it will all pass at once and you'll have three weeks of blog posts where we don't fixate on all things bloaty.

Oh, Bodybugg, how you spin me.

2010-04-06T13:48:00.000-07:00

What's the tally, ho?

Down 2.8.

Sweet! Take that, Aunt Flo.

On another note, I thought I'd delve into what I've learned after one week of using the Bodybugg. The most important thing I've learned? I've been starving myself. Not so much during my months of hibernation that I partake in on occasion (read: most of the time), but more so during the times that I think I'm on track. Shall I explain? Good.

Our bodies burn a certain amount of calories just existing. We use a certain amount of energy just breathing, pumping blood, digesting, looking pretty, etc. It's a wonderful lil' thing known as BMR (Basal Metabolic Rate). The more you weigh, the more your body has to work to do these simple tasks so the more calories you burn just, well, existing. Most of us know this. We also know that if you start moving you're burning more calories. Simple. The more you move, the more calories you burn. Also simple. With me so far? Good.

If you've been trying to lose weight for any length of time or done much reading on it, you know that when you exercise consistently you start raising your metabolism. You start burning calories faster and more efficiently burning the fuel (food) that you put into your body. What I didn't realize, is just how quickly that change can take place. In my mind this was a long drawn out process over months and months of hard work. Well, look at these screenshots from my Bodybugg readings.

I started working out on Monday of last week so I had already started the boost before I got my Bodybugg. In these readings, though, I went to the gym the first three days and then again yesterday (the last reading). My workouts weren't exactly the same, but they were not that different from day to day. I did about 45 minutes of cardio each of those days and very light resistance on all but Wednesday I think it was. You can see that my burn for the day gradually increased despite the workout being the same because I was being consistent and it kept my calorie burn high. Then, on Friday, it was still high enough to meet my daily burn requirements even though I didn't workout; however, it decreased more every day I didn't workout.

Here's where starving comes in. Look at Thursday. I burned 4,430 calories that day. If you're on some crazy 1,200 calorie diet and burning 4,430 calories a day your body is going to think it's starving. Maybe not at first, at first you'll drop pounds like a mofo, but eventually your body is going to say, "WTF, yo? 1,200? Did you get picked for the cast of Survivor and not tell me? I can't even pump your blood for 1,200 let alone keep you breathing. I'm obv. gonna have to stockpile that shit because I PPH (pink puffy heart) you and don't want you to keel over." And so it begins. You stop losing weight and you whine (and perhaps even wine) and workout harder burning even more calories and eating less and still don't lose what you think you should. At this point you're lucky your hair isn't falling out because you're verging on anorexic and still...hardly losing. Then you eat a burger and fries and lose 5 pounds and don't understand it.

Eat. Eat carbs, eat fat, eat protein, eat fiber. Get your calories in SENSIBLY. Don't boycott something because your body needs all of it. If you workout harder you'll need more food. Whether a Pinto or a Porsche you still need fuel to run.

Note: I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV. I am also often wrong, but don't tell me so because this information, even if false, just might keep me on track for a while.

Wyatt, I am rolling.

2010-04-05T22:13:00.000-07:00

I love the movie Tombstone. Mostly I love Doc Holliday. I think we have a common bond and thy name is sarcasm. We are also, apparently, rolling. In my case, however, it's because I am retaining more water than a caravan of camels. I feel like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man. I'm all bloaty and achey and blah. My feet and ankles feel all tight and my pants are tight(er). It's an eff'd up pill to swallow my first week back on the covered wagon. Will throw my weigh in off entirely. My first weigh in after starting the bodybugg campaign and I can't get an accurate assessment. Lame. Anyway, weigh in tomorrow instead of today because I got my bodybugg on Tuesday and that's when I can record the info on the website. Will face the music, guns blazing, because I, too...am your huckleberry.

Escape!

2010-04-04T19:21:00.000-07:00

Today is Easter. For those that believe, the end of the story results in a miraculous escape. Mine is less so when it comes to miracles, but I have officially escaped to my room from my family. Holidays have become a giant pain in my ass and today is no exception. Actually, there have been far worse, but my patience is particularly thin today and my nerves are frayed. The ol' family dynamics have never been stellar and I'm at a point in my life where I am just soooo over all the bullshit.

By bullshit I mean the negativity, the arguing, the bossiness, the overbearing personalities, the way they all talk over me when I try to say something and then bitch when I've opted to just sit silent waiting for the day to be over. It's all tolerable on a normal day, but when all the storms collide on a special occasion it's just unbearable...and loud. And I'm still trying to figure out why it is that having a set of nuts precludes you from having to help clean up. So, here I am, in my room, getting a few moments of peace because apparently I WAY can't handle it today. My sister-in-law can't either. I know she dreads all this chaos as much as I do.

Per the norm, my mom is the only one excluded from this list. My mom is the only consistently mellow person in this family. My mom is a saint. She deals with us all with this unwavering patience. She is also the only one that shows the least bit of interest in my life and what I'm doing at school. Everyone else seems fresh out of give a fuck and seems almost irritated if I try to show them something I've been working on. So, now I don't.

It all made me eat a whole lot of cake. It's diet cake made with diet coke, but cake nonetheless. This weekend hasn't been all that great on the calorie burning front. I was at school on Friday from 9am until 8pm. I was supposed to be there until 9pm, but my head was going to explode and I had to get out of there and try to get home. It was a headache for the ages and I had no advil or anything with me. I almost had to pull over on the drive home. I laid on the couch and started crying it hurt so bad. I was freezing, too, and then it was gone. It left as quickly as it came. It was scary. I've been getting a lot of headaches lately because of something that's wrong with my neck, but this was different and on a whole nother level. Yesterday I didn't meet my intake to outtake deficit because I didn't move much. I was too busy doing all the homework I ignored all week trying to be the perfect diet girl. It's ok, though, because I was well over on the other days. I'm stressed. I'm cranky. I'm bloaty and fat. How many calories would I burn punching someone in my family in the neck?

Buggin

2010-03-31T14:57:00.000-07:00

I've been wearing my Bodybugg for 24 hours now and so far I can tell you with the utmost confidence...this relationship is going places. I woke up this morning and it told me that I burned 1,000 calories while I slept. My first thought was, "Now that's exercise I can get behind." My second thought was, "How can I sleep more vigorously?" It's making all of this like a game for me. I have the digital display on the watch band so I can constantly see how many calories I'm burning and steps I'm taking without having to plug it into a computer. It brings out the competitor in me. It constantly reminds me to take more steps and move more just by being there. Tack on the fact that I refuse to see a calorie surplus when I track all of my information on the website and you've got a new kind of addict. And this is an addiction I can live with.

I've gone to the gym the last three days and the workouts are gradually getting better. The first day I was pretty blah. It had been a while. Yesterday my lower back hurt so bad by the time I walked IN the gym that after 10 minutes on the treadmill I had to stop and go to the recumbent bike. After 25 minutes there I went back to the treadmill and tried again...better. Today? I did the treadmill for 30 minutes, part of which was at a faster speed. I was pumping my arms. I had a lil fire in my step. I only did 15 minutes on the recumbent bike, but I was pedaling fast and at a higher level. Everyday is progress.

Here is what I learned about weighing 370 during the few weeks I visited: I did not enjoy it and I will not be returning. It's my body's breaking point. I've lived in the 340-360 range for a significant period of time and, though not a picnic, there is a drastic difference between that and 370. I feel like a Macy's Day Parade balloon just listing back and forth above all the little people below because I am SO BLOATED. I get heart burn/indigestion all the time probably because of the 10 extra pounds pushing against my stomach, esophagus, etc. My clothes think I've become some sort of Incredible Hulk type superheroess because I keep threatening to bust seams. If I had gained one more pound I might have put someone's eye out when I popped a button. Everything is harder. Everything takes longer. Everything sucks. I got on the scale at the gym again today (no pic because it's not my weekly weigh in day) and...I'm down about 4 (even with a couple pounds of bodybugg on me). Hopefully that number will still hold true post Easter.

It's official

2010-03-29T22:10:00.000-07:00

I am the fattest I've ever been. Only by a couple pounds, but I am, nonetheless. I didn't even need a scale to tell me so. I knew it. I FELT it. I have never felt this bad before...physically. Mentally I'm ok, actually, because I'm in the right frame of mind for it. If I would have seen that number a few weeks ago my response would be different. Right now? My response is...don't get comfortable 370's, you won't be here tomorrow.

Simple Math to start the term

2010-03-28T22:56:00.000-07:00

3500 calories = 1 pound

To lose one pound a week, I need to burn 500 more calories a day than I eat.

To lose two pounds a week, I need to burn 1000 more calories a day than I eat.

To lose three pounds a week, I need to burn 1500 more calories a day than I eat.

I think you see where this is going.

Burn, Baby, burn.

It all starts tomorrow!

My Food Revolution

2010-03-26T21:25:00.000-07:00

I've been waiting with much anticipation for Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. I watched it tonight and Holy Fuck! Here are a few of my comments while watching:

"You've got to be EFFING kidding me."

"Oh. My. God." and

"That is effing disgusting."

I'm about an hour and a half into it at this point and starting to feel like my poor Jamie would have better luck selling flip flops to Eskimos in winter. Why are these people so daggum obstinate? So he's a strange Brit rollin through your town trying to make some changes. He's trying to keep your kids from dying, not pass a Health Care bill for God sake. These people fought him since he first set foot in that town. They questioned, doubted, eye-rolled. It was insane how hard they were on him.

Anyway, at one point he pulled some kids aside and showed them what chicken nuggets were REALLY made of. He cut off all sane people parts we meat eaters really go for. The breasts, thighs, legs, wings. Then he took the carcass of that there chicken and some skin for good measure and threw it into a food processor. Yes, the bones, too. Pureed chicken bits. It was revolting. I don't think I'll ever look at another chicken nugget the same. Which is hard, what with it being all my nephews ever want to eat.

He went into a classroom of six year olds and none of them could name most of the fruits and vegetables that Jamie held up for them. You know, really difficult things like celery for the love of God. They sure as hell knew what french fries were though. These kids ate pizza for breakfast and potatoes made from some sort of dehydrated cement disguised as food for lunch (with the aforementioned nuggets). I was jaw droppingly amazed by it and completely saddened. But, me being a true opportunist, I recognize that this show and the nutritional demise of our youth could help, well, me. If the level of disgust I am feeling right now can stick with me maybe I can start eating better. I mean, come on, if Jamie's slap in America's face makes me look at highly processed food and feel nauseated this is win win in my book. Maybe it will keep me away from a drive through window more easily than my own willpower allows. Every little bit helps.

As an aside, I told Mom today that I am going to be cooking dinner Monday through Thursday and dad can deal with it. He can cook on weekends. Fridays I'll be at school until 9pm so I've asked that his most gluttonous concoctions be then so that I don't really have to worry about anything other than Saturday and Sunday. I'll decide what we're having over the weekend and mom can get the groceries for the upcoming meals. Mom is trying to lose weight, too, so as long as I'm not getting too crazy on the groceries...we have an accord.

Oh, and Alice the lunch lady? Open your mind and shut your mouth.

I'm an addict

2010-03-26T10:57:00.000-07:00

I've always known that I have an unhealthy relationship with food¹. I don't think, until now, that I've ever fully accepted that it's an addiction. I've often debated the food addiction vs. drug/alcohol addiction. It is my belief that food addiction is far harder to conquer than drug/alcohol addiction. I can't remove food from my life like I can cigs or vodka. I have to eat, I don't have to smoke or drink. If I was found passed out with powder on my face I would be judged less and probably applauded by some if it was from cocaine and not donuts. A fat girl bellied up to a pint of Ben & Jerry's disgusts more people than a cracked out tweaker slapping an arm for a vein. There are a lot of drug and alcohol addicts that function in life quite well without anyone knowing there is a problem. I cannot hide my problem. There are no eye drops that make me look thin. For me, even if I keep all the bad stuff out of the house, there are 25 dealers (some open 24 hours a day) within a mile of my house.

Here is how we are similar. When we are jonesing for our drug of choice we get anxious. If I start craving something I will start feeling tense and I will be consumed by it. We all know what we're doing to our bodies, health, and lives...we just don't care. At least not enough to stop the destructive behavior. Sometimes we get our fixes without even being aware of what we're doing. We sometimes frantically get our high, and then the second we are done, we are overcome with debilitating guilt...until we're not, then we do it again. We often try to quit cold-turkey, checking ourselves into rehab or joining a gym and writing blog entries about how different it is this time. We might even mean it. We try. We might even have a brief stint of success...until we don't. Most of the time, our family and friends don't understand why we can't just fix it. My sister often says "I know you can do it. You've done it before." She's referring to the few times that I've lost 40 or so pounds. I appreciate her faith, but what she fails to realize is, with every "relapse" it gets ten times harder. I lose a little piece of me every time I fail and I fail every day. She and I don't have the same relationship with food². If my sister struggles with her weight I believe it has more to do with time than a full-fledged addiction³.

What I know about me, for now, is that, like most addicts, I will never conquer this beast. I will fight it every day for the rest of my life. I will wake up every day and have to make a conscious effort to do the right thing. If an alcoholic with five years of sobriety can relapse after one beer, I can easily do the same thing. I need to start looking at food differently. I need to exercise every day. I need to accept that this is how it is and stop feeling like it's not fair. I need to be addicted to a healthy lifestyle. To help with this process I am going to introduce another addiction...lil electronic gadgets. I'm getting a Bodybugg. You know, the little armband things they wear on Biggest Loser that helps you keep track of whether or not you're burning more calories than you're eating? I've wanted one since Biggest Loser started. Now is the time. I'm getting hooked up next week. I was online until about 2am looking at the site and starting to set things up. Not quite sure what all is involved, but I think you know you'll be hearing about it.

¹ I like to state all things blindingly obvious.

² I know this because she often has ice cream in her freezer with ice crystals on it. This is unheard of in my world. It is also verging on grounds for being excommunicated from the family.

³ She reads this so she might just tell me to blow it out my ass.

In the land of suck...I am Queen.

2010-03-25T18:54:00.000-07:00

Who else is tired of my bullshit? I've had this blog for what? Six years? All of my yo-yoing, teeter-tottering, waivering and whining has resulted in a weight loss of nada/zilch/zero/nothing/goose egg. Sweet Jesus I suck.

Last week was the end of Winter term for me. On one of the last days a classmate happened to park close to me and because we were allowed to arrive later than normal, parking was a nightmare. We started walking up the hill at what would be an average pace for most people. As the incline increased I knew there was no way I would make it to the top with him in any state other than one of complete and utter disgust. I knew I wouldn't be able to breathe and he'd be like "WTF and stuff." This term I gained back anything I lost last term. Fail. I quickly grabbed my phone out of my pocket, interrupted the conversation and said, "Crap, I gotta take this call. I'll see you in there." Lame. I was embarrassed that I even had to do it, but I would have been mortified if I hadn't.

When it comes to excuses I reign supreme. I could give you a new one every single day of the week. I'm too busy with school, I don't feel good (no shit, you're 360+ pounds), it's too hard, I have bangs now and I can't workout with bangs...I think you see where this is going. It's bullshit. All of it. Every excuse is completely and utterly pulled right out of my ass. Well, it's enema time (no, not literally, ew). No more excuses.

Here is what I know. I have spent the last two years completely focused on a goal. Absolutely nothing could get me off track. I've had tunnel vision like you read about and could not be stopped. I gave up my social life, for the most part, and I did almost nothing but work towards the end result...my degree. I graduate with an Associates in Graphic Design in June (but will continue taking a few web design classes). What if I would have applied the same consistent focus to losing weight? What if I would have buckled down and worked as hard to get healthy as I did to get a degree? Why do I care more about the career I'll have in the future than I do about the health I'll have? I have worked harder in the last two years than I have in my entire life so I am not afraid of putting in the work. I have kept my eye on the prize for two years so it's not that I'm just easily distracted by shiny things. So what's the deal? When I have 8am classes I get up at 5am to get there in time. There have been terms when I am at school from 8am to almost 9pm a couple days a week. Terms when I'm there most of the day, every day and doing homework all night and on the weekends. My life has been graphic design all day, all the time. And yet I can't eat the right thing or get any real form of exercise? Fail.

I once suggested that I should treat all of this as if it were one of my classes since school apparently means more to me than anything. Classes still got in the way. Here's what's on tap for next term (which starts Monday). The only design class I have is my portfolio class. Yes, we spend hours upon hours every Friday working on our portfolios. I stacked my classes in a way that this term is cake. Then, after that class, I volunteer in the design lab. I will be on campus from 9am to 9pm. All of my other classes (three of them) are online classes, which means I fit them in as I see fit. I know. In THEORY, this should make getting in exercise and such much easier. Online classes, however, still take a lot of time because I am essentially teaching myself how to do all of this. We shall see.

Yesterday I took some of my tax return and mama got a new pair of shoes. She also got a few new things to workout in, but hasn't actually tried them on yet. Regardless, here is my plan of attack. Most classes I take are 3 credits and I spend 3 hours in class twice a week. For Kelly 101 it will be 1.5 hours four time a week. That means exercise. Either in the gym or going for a walk or a hike or something involving consistent movement. Monday through Thursday at a scheduled time. I very rarely let anything keep me from class, so...very little should keep me from my exercise! Homework? Natch. By Monday I will be caught up on the blogs I follow (it's been way too long and I apologize) and I will keep myself updated on them. Homework is also where the healthy eating comes in...meal prep. This term ends mid June, just after I turn 34. I will be graduating. I will be starting the next chapter of my life and have no idea what life has in store for me. I hope to hell I'm facing all of it significantly lighter.

So, to any of you still reading this (bless your hearts), I'm inviting you to be my professors of fat. Keep on my ass. Give me assignments. Grade me. Make me your bitch! Come on. You know you want to.

Filtered for your enjoyment

2010-02-23T09:03:00.000-08:00

I'm ordering one of these today. Don't try to stop me. My first step at fat recovery is H2O consumption to the max and I need a new pretty to help me keep my eye on the prize. I'm quite sure that if I bring another water bottle into this house my mom will shove it up my arse, but I'm doing it anyway. I've gotten quite persnickety when it comes to drinking tap water and don't like to buy a ton of bottled water. It's not so much because of my carbon footprint as it is about being judged by those that fixate on their carbon footprint. Ok ok, it's a little bit about my carbon footprint...don't judge me.

It's hard to lose weight when...

2010-02-09T11:34:00.000-08:00

your ass is planted firmly in front of a computer all day. And if not in front of a computer then at least at a table working on an illustration. I'm currently working on an illustration for a class that is going to take a minimum of 25 hours. How do I know this? Because I've already spent five hours and don't even have a quarter of it done. See...

This is a technique called stipple (tons of dots clustered together) and this illustration is due on Monday. I have always loved stipple, but the pressure is on right now. Aside from choosing the toughest technique to use on it (we were also allowed to use crosshatch and/or line), I have chosen an intense photo by a local photographer and promised him that I would give him a copy of the illustration when I'm done. It is mass critical that I don't screw this up. With that much left to go and those kind of time contraints, that affords me a lot of opportunity to screw the pooch (so to speak). There is a pint of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer if the pressure gets to be too much. Hee.

And now for a shameless plug. I have been working on establishing an identity for my freelance business (the one I hope to live off of when school is done) and I even have a blog for it now (as well as facebook, twitter and its very own website). If any of you weight loss hotties have a secret crush on art and design perhaps you'd like to follow that one as well. Now you can stalk me in multiple places.

Pixel Dust

Pixel Dust Blog

She bangs! She bangs!

2010-01-31T22:28:00.000-08:00

I got my hair cut and colored today. The coloring part went phenomenally well. As my new hair boy was cutting my hair he said, "When was the last time you had bangs?" Uhhhh? Bangs? That was so circa 1994. I asked if he was making a recommendation and he said he thought it might be just what I needed. Might frame my face well. Might really bring out my eyes. Well, my eyes ARE my best feature so what was a girl to do? He said that he was doing an intense bang study and would continue to ponder. He whipped scissors and sheers out of his gun-belt-esque accessory. He cut, snipped, thinned, and (apparently) pondered. He asked just HOW long ago it had been and I told him I had bangs in high school and I think that was the last time. He made his plea and before I could fully commit to his suggestion my back was turned to the mirror and scissors darted to and fro in front of my eyes. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I could see all the hair resting on the twins. When he was done, he slowly turned me around and...gulp. I look like a 12 year old girl.

So, yeah. Bangs. I am hoping that when I do my hair in the morning I can pull something off that makes me a little more ok with them. In the meantime, I was watching the grammy's tonight (sort of) and THIS commercial came on. Coincidence? I think not! Good times. You know I can't go to the gym looking like this. I can't work out and sweat with bangs. All hair must be pulled back and away from my face. This just won't do. I guess I can't go to the gym. Ah. Drats. She bangs, but more like William Hung than Ricky Martin.

What I do when I do what I do

2010-01-23T23:25:00.000-08:00

Thank you to those of you that welcomed me back to the fold with no judgement. Ah hell, thanks to those that welcomed me back WITH judgement. I'll take what I can get.

Since I have no witty weight loss wisdom to spew I thought I'd show you what it is I've been working on today for school. We have a series project in one of my classes. It can be three posters, three ads, three gift cards, a mixture of things. I opted to do a wedding package (invite, rsvp, save the date, etc). I'm not sure just how many pieces mine is going to have...what with me being an over achiever and all, but it only HAS to have three. This is one of the versions of the invite. I have two of my classmates getting married just for shits and giggles.

I've also been working on a group project. I hate group projects. They are designed to see just how long it takes an over achiever to stab a slacker. I am the over achiever and I almost punched the slacker in the neck. He went AWOL for days and hasn't been meeting his deadlines. The whole stupid thing is due on Monday. It's really stressing me out. I some how became the leader of the pack which means most of the pressure is on me to get everyone to give me their stuff. Lesson learned. Let some other ass hat take the lead. Hate. Passionately.

Soooo, that's all I have. Boring, I know...but my life is consumed by fonts, eyeflow, symmetry, hierarchy, and other graphic design related nonsense. OK. OK. I love it desperately, but I'm really ready to be done with the school portion and move on to the work phase of my passion.

Graphic Design made me its bitch...again.

2010-01-22T16:24:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry. I suck. Last term was the end all be all of stressful terms. Now I have started Winter term and it should be tamer. I clearly don't love you (or me) the way I do Graphic Design. My clothes were fitting better by the end of the term, now they are not. I don't know what that means as far as numbers because I only weigh in at the gym. Oddly, I can't weigh in at the gym if I never go. Kinda like I can't win the lottery if I never buy a ticket. I'm lame; it's true.

I took the reins, deleted Insertnamehere from my phone after telling him I never wanted to talk to him again, and think of him rarely. Awesome. I was a dating machine over the Christmas break so I've got THAT going for me. I'm working on the website for my freelance business (which will, as suggested by my instructor, have a blog as well...I think we know how well THAT will go). I am going to start scheduling blog time on my damn calendar just so that I can stop being such a slacker. It seems to be the most effective way for me not to completely go AWOL for months at a time. And, blogging keeps me honest(ish) when it comes to the diet. Imagine that.

So, to recap...I'm still in school and I'm still fat. I may or may not still be fierce, but we'll delve into that later. I hope you're all well and don't hate me. And let's not talk about that whole lose 100 pounds by 2010 thing, m'kay? m'kay.

Almost forgot...tally, ho!

2009-11-09T12:13:00.001-08:00

349.2 over and out.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions

2009-11-09T11:53:00.001-08:00

I made it back to the gym yesterday. I had all kinds of good intentions when I got there, but everything came undone. My ipod was dead so I had no real entertainment. I was texting someone for a little bit, but they had to go. I stopped the treadmill after 30 minutes and was going to move on to the bike, but I got all pass outty. I didn't eat before I went. I felt super weak. I left.

I went to the grocery store on the way home and got healthy food. Then I went home and made a giant salad. I took about 5 bites and couldn't eat anymore. I set it aside and did other stuff and came back to it. I had to force feed myself, basically, and still didn't eat it all. I made up two big tacos for dinner and could barely eat one. I threw the other one away. I felt gross.

This eating thing is not because of the boy. This eating thing started before that took a turn. I was skipping meals most of the summer. He actually would give me shit for it. This eating thing has been going on for a couple months now. I just, on most days, look at food like a complete inconvenience. I'm put out by having to eat. I don't know if that's good or bad. I sit in front of a plate of food and am annoyed by it, disgusted by it, repulsed by the fact that it has consumed so much of my life. I eat only because I know I have to, not because I want to. It's kind of scary for me. Every once in a while I find that I am ravenously hungry...I still don't want to eat. If I do, I'm usually only a few bites in before I want to throw it all away.

Is this what skinny people are like? Is this the relationship a person is supposed to have with food? Put out by having to eat and doing it only because they have to? Stopping after just a few bites because they just can't bring themselves to eat anymore? I hardly think so. I think I've gone from one extreme to another. At least this will get me closer to a goal of some kind...or kill me.

Does anyone have any duct tape?

2009-11-07T08:47:00.000-08:00

I am a firm believer that duct tape will fix most anything. I am in need of desperate repairs. I seem to have acquired a broken heart and need to wrap it up tight in a large amount of duct tape. I told that stupid boy, the stupid boy that I somehow managed to fall in love with through all of this, that if he can't respect me or bring a fraction of what I do to the table to PLEASE leave me alone. I told that stupid boy that I would not call him or text him again. That if I hear from him it will be because he wants me in his life. I told him I wasn't putting a time frame on when this decision had to be made, but I wasn't going to keep working so hard for something his actions suggest that he doesn't want regardless of what his words are saying. This was not my smartest move. I thought I was being bold and standing up for myself again. What I have instead done is put myself back in the land of limbo. What I have done is allowed myself to sit here wondering if he will call, hoping he will call, all the while knowing that he probably won't. Am dumb, am sad, am a hopeless romantic.

I've hardly been eating for the last month. Skipping meals has taken on a whole new meaning. Some days all I'll have had by the time dinner rolls around is an apple and maybe a protein bar. When I eat dinner I eat very little before I just can't bring myself to take another bite. I probably only sit down to the table to attempt it so that mom doesn't go bat shit crazy over how I'm not eating, talking, living. The fucked up part of that is that I'm not losing weight. Well, not as much as you would expect after a month of this. I got on mom's scale this morning and am officially under 350, but I don't know how that compares to the scale I was using at the gym before classes started. Ah, ya caught me, still haven't been to the gym since the last you heard. This term is kicking my ass in ways only Oscar De La Hoya can comprehend. There are only four weeks left to it and then I believe I have three weeks off for the holidays. Next term I will only have to go to campus on Mondays and Tuesdays and then will have a couple online classes as well. This should help my ability to get to the gym. I hope.

I have not given up. I've steered clear of a lot of the fast food my schedule would normally have me partaking in and I've even omitted a lot of ice cream from my life. Afterall, I used to eat Ben & Jerry's with that stupid boy at his house. So, about that duct tape?

Life raft anyone?

2009-10-10T09:12:00.000-07:00

I'm struggling. Big time. I'm hardly sleeping, hardly eating, hardly keeping my head above water. I'm sad. I'm lonely. I'm stressed. I'm...drowning.

School is fucking insane. I haven't weighed since the gain of a couple weeks ago. Insertnamehere and I haven't seen each other in two weeks and it's likely not going to change anytime soon. Sadly, that's not so much my fault as it is his. He's just as busy as I am and, well, I'm/we/this is on the back burner for a while so that he can sort some things out. I miss him. I miss the escape that spending time with him provided. I miss how he calms me and right now, I need a lot of calming. I'm on edge. I'm going to snap. I'm scheduling a breakdown for about 1:30 this afternoon. Should be fun.

On that note, back to homework. It's all I do these days. All day, and often all night. All week and all weekend. Mama needs a break, but not for another 8 weeks. FML.

Don't judge me

2009-10-02T20:27:00.000-07:00

Didn't weigh in this week.
Haven't been to the gym this week.
Not especially proud of how I've eaten this week.
Wednesday night I only got 2.5 hours of sleep because I was up all night doing homework.
Thursday night wasn't much better.
This weekend will be more of the same.

Before you judge me, take a second to ponder how it might feel for me to punch you in the neck for doing so.
Carry on.

Rain delay

2009-09-27T16:01:00.000-07:00

She took her sweet time getting here, but (sorry boys) the playground is flooded. It started raining just before I went to Insertnamehere's house yesterday. By the time I got there I had some fairly annoying cramps, but they weren't that bad. I asked him for some of his ibuprofen, but he was out. Lovely. A couple hours later all hell broke loose on my insides. Kids were using my uterus as a trampoline. Little girls with pigtails were using my fallopian tubes for double dutch. My ovaries had clearly fallen prey to a rousing game of dodgeball.

I was sitting next to Insertnamehere on the couch. I was trying to do homework, but couldn't concentrate. I had to keep leaning forward to put pressure of some kind on my baby maker. He asked if I wanted him to go to the store. I said, "No, no, it'll pass." A few minutes later, "Are you sure?" I let out a groan, "No, no, I'm alright." An hour later I'd had enough, "So, yeah, that ibuprofen is sounding better by the minute." He jumped up and was on the road within seconds. He came home with ibuprofen, creamer for my coffee in the morning, and Ben & Jerry's which he expeditiously dished up as I laid on my stomach on the hardwood floor so that I could use my extraordinary amount of weight to push all my bits into the ground. He came out to the living room with ice cream in hand and I laid on the floor waiting for the drugs to kick in, wishing someone would punch me in the uterus to get it to relax, trying to enjoy my ice cream. I'd like to say it was heaven, but not so much. They hit me like a mack truck, but thanks to my hero, they eventually subsided and I was able to partake in some serious cuddling.

Why am I writing about this? Because tomorrow is weigh in day again and I'm hoping to hell that her terribly timed appearance and the agony of last night will some how pay off for me in the morning. School threw off my eating on a couple days and most certainly threw off my workouts this week and I could really use something great on the scale tomorrow. Something to help me push forward and continue to put in the work with everything I have on my plate right now. So, I'm paying my penance this weekend and hoping that tomorrow is the big reward. I'm off to get some more ibuprofen. Good Jesus.

Schoolhouse Rock!

2009-09-25T18:12:00.000-07:00

I loved Schoolhouse Rock when I was little. Hell, I love it now. Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, Get Your Adverbs Here, Conjunction Junction, I'm Just A Bill, Interjections! Those were the good ol' days. Well, I'm grown now and I have a few new Interjections! Shit, fuck, and damn! These are Interjections! Well, not and, and is a conjunction, uh, junction. That's it's function.

I haven't been to the gym since Monday (and we all know how that went). Can't blame it on the playground because it's still status quo (though the signs are still present that flooding is eminent). It's school and lack of sleep. It's me getting used to my new schedule. It's me being a tool. In my defense, though, this is the list of things I have to do this weekend for school:

Figure out which horror movie I'm going to depict in a full page ad and draw 40 thumbnail sketches of said ad. Also, find 3 current movie ads in magazines.

Read Chapters 1-3 of From Design Into Print and prepare for quiz that will be on Tuesday

Read pages 1-32 of Making and Breaking the Grid and figure out which badly designed magazine I want to redesign and which well designed magazine I want to model it after.

Design an invoice and a timesheet that I will use for the African Film Festival non-profit project we've been assigned and do 30 thumbnails for said poster. Also, watch at least one movie from the African Film Festival collection and write a reaction to it as well as other various research.

Develop an 11 x 17 vision board of things that I find inspiring as it pertains to my own identity/brand/career and do 20 business card ideas for myself.

Good times, kids. School is most definitely back in session. For those that thought the first week of school couldn't possibly be that big of a deal? It's a very big deal. Let me get acclimated again and then we can talk about Gym.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

2009-09-21T19:59:00.001-07:00

The Good:
This morning I walked into the gym and the boy behind the counter that is usually there on weekdays gave me a head nod and said, "It's ok." I said, "It's ok?" He said, "Yeah, you're good." What does this conversation mean? He didn't need to scan my membership card. He recognized me. Still not sure why this is good? It means I've been there so much in the last two weeks that I'm "one of them." I'm...a regular. I smiled, put my card back in my wallet and made my way to the women's workout area.

The Bad:
I jinxed myself yesterday with my jibber jabber about how smoothly my workouts have been going. Firstly, I woke up with a little bit of a headache and no desire to go. I wanted to weigh in so I got up and slowly made my way there. Two minutes into the treadmill and shin splints were in affect. Some people debate whether or not what I have going on are shin splints because it isn't actually my shins, it's the outer part of my lower leg living somewhere between my shins and calves. It's both legs. It burns like the fires of hell and if I push it too far I can't even tell if I'm lifting my feet properly because the muscles are so tight. Sometimes if I stop until they relax then I can get back to it and go for quite a while. Sometimes not. I made it eight minutes and moved to the recumbent bike. I set it for 22 minutes to try to get in at least 30 minutes of cardio. I quit at 10. It took me longer to drive there then to actually workout. Lame.

The Ugly:
After my sorry excuse for a workout, I got on the scale. Tally, ho? Up 3.5. 359.6. I wanted to kick puppies. I wanted to throw dumb bells kittens. I walked out and drove home. Here is the only thing that kept me from crying; TOM is in a day or two (in theory). I feel a little bloaty and various other treats Aunt flo brings when she visits. To all the fellaz readin' this and rolling their eyes at another period reference...bite me. Until your playground floods and kids start playing kickball with your naughty bits, you can't really pass judgement. So, I'm hoping that explains it, because I don't feel I screwed up enough to warrant a gain like that. I busted ass this week!

I'll take Fat Girl Ailments for $800, Alex.

2009-09-19T19:35:00.000-07:00

Alex: shin splints, plantar fasciitis, lower back pain, bad knees, lack of energy, and sometimes, TOM.

Me: What are reasons fat girls give to get out of a workout? I'll take Fat Girl Ailments for $1000, Alex.

Alex: diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and infertility to name a few.

Me: What are reasons a fat girl should give a damn?

I have somehow found my groove at the gym this go round. All of the things that ail me and cause me to quit have not been bothering me TOO much. I can really only attribute this to less time on the treadmill. To getting my cardio minutes in on 3 different machines instead of just one. World o' difference. It's just so hard on a good day to be there doing the things I need to do, but when everything I do is riddled with some sort of pain it's only natural that I'm going to eventually get tired of it and quit. I've gone to the gym 5 days a week for two weeks now. Today was a day off, but tomorrow I will be there bright and early for my workout and my weigh in.

Girl's night was ok. I ended up having one drink so I didn't pick up the ice cream I was planning to take over to Insertnamehere's. He and I did surprisingly well considering he had just met with his soon to be ex wife and was super cranky when he called. I like that I can provide some sort of calming effect. I like that he smiles when he sees me even after a crappy day. I like that when we hang out all of the outside crap seems less important, even if only for a few hours. We both need that right now.

Tomorrow school starts back up. Eff me. There are three things that I have to somehow manage to keep as priorities along with school. My weight loss (natch), the freelance graphic design business I've started with a classmate, and Insertnamehere. How in the hell I'm going to swing it all is not entirely clear, but I've been trying to devise plans. My classmate and I are going to meet on campus before classes a few times a week to stay on track with the business. Insertnamehere and I are going to get through the next couple of insane weeks and then sit down and figure out at least one day that we know we're going to see each other every week and plan for it. If other days can happen, all the better, but at least we'll have one day a week that is dedicated to this friendship. What I eat on Tuesdays and Thursdays might be a crap shoot, but my classes shouldn't get in the way of the other days. I am planning to try to hit the gym on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at least and do Wii fitness games on the other days. That will be subject to change as I see what my schedule brings. Pray for me!

Built for comfort, not for speed

2009-09-18T17:14:00.000-07:00

So Gym and I were knockin' boots again today and the workout was kinda blah. 10 on treadmill, 15 on recumbent, and then I opted to start lifting weights again. Did a lot of leg work and as I was abducting my hips I realized that there was only one other person working out in the women's area with me. Suddenly the most foolish of notions came over me. Mayhaps a fat girl should run.

I got on a treadmill that wasn't easily seen from where this other person was and started cranking it up. I started running...ok, ok, ok...jogging. The treadmill strained beneath me, but I was doing it anyway. I got up to a minute and thought I'd push it to two. Then I heard other voices and realized the lunch time rush was starting. I stopped it at a minute twenty. I stepped off completely and utterly out of breath and then it hit me; I am most certainly not made for speed. I also couldn't help but wonder just how long I would have been able to push it if my fear of being seen hadn't kicked in. No one wants to watch a fat girl break a treadmill. Well, some do, but they are just mean.

Tonight the girls are congregating for food and gossip. They haven't seen me in a while and I'm likely going to be grilled on Insertnamehere. Who, by the way, I hope to see after dinner because I haven't seen him in days and it makes me cranky(ish). I think we're going to hold hands and watch Shrek again since we never finished it the last time I was there. Love that for some odd reason. Probably because I'm bringing ice cream to eat while we watch it, too, but don't judge me. At least I'm not going to drink any alcohol tonight and will bring my water bottle. I don't really know what the food will be, but I'm bringing blue corn tortilla chips and some black bean salsa that isn't too bad for you. Let the good times (and the fat girls) roll.

Make up sex

2009-09-17T19:38:00.000-07:00

We've been spending more time together, trying to mend the things that came between us so long ago. Today, though, we had some mind blowing, sweaty, dirty, make up sex. Gym and I, are back together!

Tuesday's workout sucked. I got on the treadmill for my 10 minute warmup and within just a couple minutes my shin splints (or whatever they are) started to hurt. They are the whole reason that I've been keeping it at 10 minutes and then moving on, it's just too painful. I pressed on through the 10 minutes and went to the recumbent bike. I set it for 30 minutes and pussed out after 15. My thighs were tired and my hips ached. I went to the elliptical. The timer wouldn't work. It is at this point that I said effit and jumped off and walked out. I decided that Wednesday would be a day of rest. I paid attention to my body and this is what it told me.

Today I had to make up for it. I got on the treadmill. 10 minutes came and went. Nothing hurt. Same speed and nothing hurt. I pushed it to 20. I rock. I did the treadmill for 30 minutes and probably could have gone longer. I went to the recumbent bike. 20 minutes. I went to the elliptical. 10 minutes. I did 60 minutes of cardio and felt...great! Nothing hurt. I was a sweaty mess, but I wasn't in pain. If only all my workouts could be like that.

I listened to my body and I adjusted. I took the day off yesterday and went to Whole Foods instead to stock up on yummy, healthy goodness. I ate a healthy breakfast before I went and it made all the difference. I'm making good decisions and starting to feel empowered again. I start school on Monday, that is when it will be the hardest. I have to get the two to play well together and so far, I haven't been very good at that. Will. Find. Way. In the meantime, I'll just keep being a dirty girl with Gym.

Ya ain't much if ya ain't Dutch

2009-09-15T21:50:00.000-07:00

I have always been very proud of my Dutch heritage. I grew up living only a couple miles away from my Dutch grandparents and spent a lot of time immersed in traditions I didn't even realize were because of my heritage until I was older. Tea time at 10 am and 3 pm, black licorice (still don't like it), birthday calendars, dinner for lunch and lunch for dinner, and the list goes on. One thing I did learn about the Dutch as I got older was what a bike friendly bunch of crazies we are. I am a disgrace to my heritage.

I haven't had a bike since I was probably in jr. high. When you're fat, you don't want to ride up the street on a bike having the people coming up behind you wondering where the seat went. When your fat, you can't pedal your fat ass up the street period. I can remember riding my bike with my brother all over our yard AND the neighbors yard or all over the campground when we went camping. And then it stopped.

So, I texted Insertnamehere last night and asked him if I could go on a pedal with him once I lost a bunch of weight. He rides his bike all over the place. He said he'd be looking forward to it and could he help me pick out my bike. I obviously agreed since I know nothing about bikes. Later that night we were talking on Facebook and he linked me to a bike. He already picked it out for me. The Electra Townie Balloon 3i. All I had to do was choose the color. Easy. Orange. It is the color of our people (he is Dutch, too, doncha know).

So, today I found a picture of my tangerine dream and it is the photo on my computer's desktop so that I see it all the time. They are spendy mofos so it will be a significant reward for reaching one of my goals. I just don't know what that goal should be yet. I don't know what level of fat this bike is approved for. It's got nice fat tires and a decent size seat. It will likely be more about when I'd feel comfortable riding it than what weight it could hold. Two vastly different numbers. It was nice having him support me. Later he asked how he could help. I told him to just ask me if I've been going to the gym and eating right and don't judge me. Tonight we talked about the ice cream we eat together and I said we're going to have to reserve the B&J for special occasions and get healthier stuff most of the time. He was all for it. He supports me because he knows my size matters to ME, not because my size matters to him. It makes all the difference.

So, when I get to 275 or lose 100 or something of that nature, I will be embracing my Dutch heritage and hopefully pedaling my less fat ass down the streets of Portland with a particular Dutch boy because, after all, you ain't much if you ain't Dutch.

Hello, my name is Hot Mess.

2009-09-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

I sat my grandpa (mom's dad, where I get all of my smart ass ways and half of my Dutch heritage) down at the table. He was walking with crutches at this point because his balance was failing and he was having a lot of trouble walking. It was Thanksgiving and I somehow made it to the big table with the grownups. I guess enough of the family was missing that a spot opened up. I got him settled, helped him dish up, and got him everything he needed. As I reached over and fixed his suspenders that had gotten twisted he said, "Kelly, you're going to make some man very happy one day." I loved my grandpa dearly and valued his opinion greatly. He wasn't a man of many words, so when he spoke it resonated (often times because it was full of snark and old men with Dutch accents and all that sass are comedy). My smile had barely had time to form before it was wiped away. My dad was sitting on the other side of him and he said, "Who? Her?" It was his tone. It was his look. It was almost like disgust. It was him saying, "Please. She's never going to get a man. Who would be interested in a girl that big?" I knew he felt that way. He would always talk about some guy he'd come across that would be perfect for my sister, but he never suggested anyone for me because no one would want me, naturally. This was the first time he came out and actually said something that proved my suspicions. I was a teenager. I've never forgotten it.

My dad made me run up and down the stairs at the house until he said stop and sometimes run around in circles around the boat in the shop. He didn't care that I couldn't breathe. He didn't care that running around a boat in a fairly tight circle can make you dizzy. I was fat and it needed to change. So was he, but that apparently didn't need to change because instead of changing the way the family ate, he singled me out and embarrassed me often. During some of my dad's pep talks I was told that I was a worthless piece of shit and that I'd never amount to anything. I was a teenager. I've never forgotten it.

I've had artistic talent since I was little. I used to draw all the time. Every time I brought something to my dad he picked it apart. No compliments, just put downs. This could be better, the proportion is off on this, the shading is wrong on that. Because of this, I've never thought I was good enough. It never mattered that everyone else loved it and envied the talent. Because of this I stopped drawing. Because of this I threw away everything I had ever drawn. The only things I've kept (aside from things I've drawn recently for school) are two drawings that he couldn't find anything wrong with. Two drawings that must have been good enough. I hate that I let him take that away from me. I hate that I don't have confidence in my ability. I hate that because I stopped drawing I can't draw from my head anymore and have to see a picture of something to be able to draw it. I buy sketchbooks all the time because I love them. I open them and stare at the perfect white paper and ache for that girl to come back. The one that drew because she loved it and wasn't anxious because she wasn't good enough. I probably have about a dozen sketchbooks; they are all empty. I've been told that my dad brags about me to other people about my talent or my grades or the like. The only thing he's ever truly shown support in was my writing. He's always told me I should write a book. Beyond that, nothing I've done has ever been good enough as far as I can tell.

There are statistics out there that give numbers on how many compliments it takes to undo one single put down...especially when that put down comes from a parent or loved one. I wholeheartedly support this statistic, whatever it may be. It's been instilled in me since an early age that nothing I do will ever be good enough. I once wrote a letter to my brother that said something to the extent of, "You turned our childhood into anger, I turned our childhood into 350+ pounds." This was the first time I placed blame for my weight on anyone but me. I had always rejected the theory that "our parents are to blame" because I was now an adult and I should be able to change. I am an adult, but there are issues I've left unaddressed my entire life because I am a peacekeeper. I don't like ripples and I like to let bad things sink as quickly as possible. I've avoided addressing very many of the issues with my father in this blog because people I know, people that know my dad, read this. This blog is supposed to be honest. It's supposed to be about my weight and the things that positively or negatively affect my ability to lose it. My dad is a large part of this battle for me and I'm no longer choosing to sweep it under the rug. Until I can afford therapy (which I am now looking into), this is the only outlet I have.

For now I am choosing not to let my dad know that I'm trying to get focused on losing this weight again. I haven't told my parents that I rejoined the gym. I haven't made any comments on meals that have been made. I just stay in my room. I've lived back here for almost 2 years now and anytime I try to get focused again he has plenty of things to say about it. He points out everything that I shouldn't eat all while eating it himself. He complains if he cooks something and I don't want to eat it all while telling me that I need to lose weight. This makes me want to eat. This makes me want to binge. I become a little girl again and the only way that I can get back at my father is to do the one thing that bothers him most...get fatter.

Some therapist is going to have a field day with me. More to come.

Tally, Ho.

2009-09-14T16:20:00.000-07:00

I was at Insertnamehere's house this morning (more on that later). I was dressed for the gym. I didn't want to go to the gym. But, I had to go because I needed the scale. Today is weigh in day. This guy suggested that I start with 10 minutes, see how I feel, and if it wasn't good, I could stop. We had an accord. I went in with an open mind. I planned to get on the scale before and after my workout to see what the difference was (ended up being a pound worth of difference). I did the treadmill for 10 minutes. I did the recumbent bike for 20 minutes. I did the elliptical for 10 minutes. Mama's legs were weak. I carefully made my way back to the scale. And what's the tally, Ho? I lost 4.5 pounds. 356.1. Down 9.9 pounds. Word.

Insertnamehere and I finally talked yesterday. First on the phone, then at his house. A lot was said, mostly by me. I broke out some good stuff. Like a grown up even. Things fresh out of some movie, I'm sure, like, "I'm not trying to save you. I'm trying to be your friend and help you save yourself." When the conversation seemed to be winding down he said he wanted to ask me something. I was nervous. I thought he was going to ask for his key back. He said, "Can we just go hold hands and watch Shrek now?" I smiled, told him that he sucked, and he agreed. Backstory: about a month ago when we were talking on the phone he told me that he and his 2.5 year old daughter were holding hands and watching Shrek. I told him that sounded awesome and I wanted to. He said we would, but hadn't yet. Now we have. Before we actually started watching the movie I hugged him and whispered, "Can we just go back to how it was before, Papi?" He said he would like that. Then I asked him to please talk to me when he started freaking out again so that we didn't end up here again. He agreed. We shall see. Boys are still stupid.

On another note, I find it slightly creepy that just a few days ago I had two posts that referenced Dirty Dancing and Patrick Swayze and today he lost his battle to cancer. This happens to me a lot. Just sayin'.

How many calories do you burn wallowing in your own self-pity?

2009-09-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

Though you would think laying in bed from 6 pm until 8 am tossing and turning, reeling from internal strife, fighting to sleep, unable to stop your brain from spinning would burn innumerable amounts of calories, the fact is...it won't. The chances of it doing you any good at all are about as good as my chances of winning the title of Miss. Fitness USA. Last night I went downstairs to eat dinner after my last entry and made the executive decision to not eat. I wasn't hungry. Instead, I came upstairs and crawled in bed. I wallowed. I stewed. I came up with all these things I should say, but likely won't. I came up with questions and made up my own answers. I toggled ever so efficiently between angry and sad. For those that think I'm a hot mess in need of medication, I'm not. This is just what I do when my life is in limbo. I think I've mentioned this before, but fat girls can't limbo. I like definitive answers. I like knowing where I stand and what's around the corner. I like having some sense of control. Yesterday I felt like I had none. Toss in the fact that the height of the limbo bar has been set by someone I care a lot about and this is the result.

He and I were supposed to talk last night; we didn't. After a few texts about how we WOULD be talking last night, I got one that said we wouldn't be. It was the last night that his cousin would be staying there and they were "talking about life." What I wanted to say in response was, "Don't call me for a while," or "Have another beer and fuck off." Instead, a simple "Goodnight, Insertnamehere." His name is nearly always replaced with a term of endearment when I address him, so, the simple fact that I used his name probably got my point across without me lowering myself to levels I'd regret. I figured I'd wait until this morning and see how I felt. This is progress for me. And what was the result? I took back some of the control. I determined what height the bar would be set today. I gave his indecisive "time out" the middle finger and told him that I didn't want to talk to him the rest of today, or tomorrow for that matter. I wasn't going to sit here waiting for texts or calls that likely wouldn't happen. He has company in town tonight so I doubt it's going to affect him all that much, but it made all the difference for me. He said everyone (company, cousin, daughter) would be gone tomorrow night and things would be more settled. That we could talk. He sounded sad. I hung up.

I started cleaning, frantically, if I may say so. Dust bunnies called for backup as I tore through my room on a mission. Cardio, no? I turned on the Wii and fired up My Fitness Trainer to put some time in with Maya. I almost threw a dumbbell at the screen as she nagged me about missing my sessions lately. Look, bitch, I've been checking in daily getting workout credit for what I've been doing at the gym. Just because I haven't wanted to workout with YOUR ass, does NOT a slacker make. I did a 30 minute workout with her that focused on flexibility. Now I'm all stretched out and ready for some limbo. Anyone?

Flight Risk

2009-09-11T17:27:00.000-07:00

When someone is deemed a flight risk it means that there is a good chance they are going to run, at their first opportunity, from something they are being held accountable for. Right now, I am a flight risk. I've been trying to do the right thing for me over the last few weeks; to eat better and be better, but it has been a struggle. I am not in the "zone" that usually has me professing some renewed sense of determination. I am far from it. Every bit of it has been a struggle. Today? I didn't even want to get out of bed.

Today I wanted to sleep until things were resolved. If I just kept sleeping then I wouldn't be thinking, dwelling, worrying. I wanted to hide. Instead I got out of bed, even if late, and I slowly got dressed. I drove, almost dazed, to the gym. I sat in the parking lot once I got there, not wanting to go in. I eventually did, but everything was a challenge. I got in a very weak 30 minutes of cardio and then I left. I usually like it when I'm there and feel proud when I leave. I didn't this time.

I wanted to hit fast food on the way home, but got Subway instead. I didn't enjoy it. I've been sitting in my room since I got home with no motivation to do anything. I go between wanting to eat everything in the house and never wanting to eat again. I'm going to go have dinner of some sort and then probably go to bed. If I had a passport I'd suggest that someone take it. I should be remanded without bail.

(Not having) The Time of My Life

2009-09-10T23:33:00.000-07:00

Sadly, Baby is still waiting for her memorable dance scene. He did call as promised. We did talk. He still doesn't know what to do. He basically agreed with everything I said. He told me that I've done everything right; that I've made it easy...but that when all he's ever had has been hard, easy is scaring him. Liking me so much is scaring him. How perfect it is...is scaring him. I may or may not have driven 40 minutes one way to his shop tonight just to get a hug and then turned around, walked out, and drove back home. He's supposed to call me tomorrow.

Nobody puts Baby in a corner

2009-09-10T17:43:00.000-07:00

Last night I was left sitting in a proverbial corner, feeling unimportant, feeling like an afterthought. Last night was rough. Last night I was torn between the girl I used to be and the the woman I am now. Last night I was conflicted over whether or not I stand up for myself or sit idly by as someone treated me less than I deserve simply because they are going through a tough time. What is the appropriate way to respond to someone who typically treats you so well when they have a lapse in judgement? How do you make it clear that what has happened is not ok while still coming across as understanding of their situation? Where is my Patrick Swayze to stand up for me?

The girl formerly known as Doormat would have just sat there all night, waiting for him to get home, and wouldn't have said anything. She would have had an attitude and when asked what was wrong she would have blurted out a snippy, "Nothing!" and answered every other question with an equally snarky one word retort. She wouldn't have stood up for herself. She would have spent months of her life being treated badly until one day he got a new doormat.

The woman I am now? Well, she made it known that it wasn't ok. She took off for a while and went to the gym (that's gym, not Taco Bell). She went to clear her head and prayed that some aerobic bliss would tame the beast that was inside her at that moment. The beast remained, but more of a petting zoo than an african safari. I went back. When he got home we talked. I wasn't mean. I wasn't snarky. I didn't have an attitude. I can't say my sarcastic core didn't shine, but I didn't say it out loud and I consider that progress any day of the week.

When we woke up it suddenly got a bit harder. Time outs were talked about. It stung. It left me speechless (even the snarky ones I'm usually so proficient in). It left me feeling like I was the one that did something wrong. I couldn't get out of his house fast enough. I know why he said it, but it was still confusing. My friend feels bad for how he made me feel last night and feels like he's taking advantage of me. My friend is going through a lot. He is conflicted with feelings he has for me (whatever those are) because he doesn't feel like his life is conducive to liking someone right now. He doesn't want to leave me in the wake that his life could leave behind all the while forgetting that I'm a big girl and I can swim (I just don't look good in a swimsuit). He is trying to figure out who he is as he goes through a divorce and gets his life back in order. My friend has spent so much time with a woman that gave him nothing that he has no idea what to do with a woman that would give him everything. My friend? Is scared.

My friend has told me that I'm the sunshine through the clouds. He tells me what a good woman I am, how beautiful I am, how caring I am. My friend goes a couple days without seeing me and then can't stop telling me how much he missed me, how good it is to see me, how glad he is I'm there. I sometimes look up and catch him just looking at me with a slight smile on his face, saying nothing and everything all at once. Content. Happy. I wish he would just see that what he and I have is easy. What we have isn't complicated. It isn't drama. It's two people enjoying each other and trying to help each other get through two lives that are NOT easy and are all kinds of complicated. I wish he would believe that he deserves to have some of that aforementioned sunshine sometimes, that he should get out of his own way and let someone make him happy. I wish my friend understood that bailing because you like someone is, well, stupid.

So there you have it. The reason my lil Twitter updates proclaimed a rough night, skipping dinner, tears, and a breakfast of McDonald's. Did I mention that I took off and went to the gym instead of burying my head in the pint of B&J he had in his freezer? Just trying to make you forget that whole McDonald's debacle. He and I are supposed to talk tonight. I don't know what time out means. He didn't even know what time out meant when I asked. I just know he doesn't want his key back so I guess that's promising. I'm hoping it goes well, but in the event that it doesn't, you all should take out stock in B&J quick!

The witching hour

2009-09-08T16:39:00.000-07:00

Often thought of as the time between midnight and 3am, the witching hour is when witches, demons, and ghosts are at their most powerful. At my gym, that time is apparently 11am, cuz witches? They were a plenty. So many super skinny girls with no personality. I flash a smile in passing and they avert their eyes. Get a sammich, bitch, and lighten up.

The good news? I did a 10 minute warmup on the treadmill (with no indication that it couldn't detect me) and then 30 minutes on the recumbent bike. Toss in a little cool down time and I was at it for 45 minutes. The scale was a couple pounds kinder, too.

The bad news? My 6 year old nephew touched my tummy today and asked if I had a baby in there (his other aunt is pregnant so tis the season he thought). I said, "No, it's the last little boy that asked me if I had a baby in there." FML, yo.

User Not Detected

2009-09-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

Obese people have an odd relationship with invisibility. Many of us feel like we're never seen because or our size and others feel like we're living under a microscope because everywhere we go we are judged. I am a combination of the two. In public I mostly feel like everyone is watching. In my more personal life I often feel invisible and overlooked.

Today I rejoined Bally Total Fitness (the proof is in the membership card). While there I even worked out. Not for very long, but I did it. I was warming up on the treadmill and in the ten minutes that I was on there it stopped about five times showing "User Not Detected" on the screen. Say what? How can you not detect me? If anything, the screen should have said "Hey, only one person at a time, for the love of God." Great, even gym equipment doesn't see me.

Before I left I noticed a new scale in the women's area (where I typically workout). I know the one in the locker room doesn't go high enough, but thought I'd step on this lil gem just for shits and giggles. You never can have too many scales reject you in my opinion (insert eye rolling here). I stepped on it and waited a few seconds for it to flash "Err" or something equally craptastic. Well, it was craptastic, but it was a weight. 360.6, fuck.

So, remember that one time, at band camp (or was it YouTube), when I said I was going to be at 299 by the time school started back up? Ooooh, good times. Think I can lose 60 pounds in a couple weeks? Me, too!

Kelly Scissorhands

2009-09-07T10:21:00.000-07:00

My nails have been proving themselves to be as bothersome, um, effective as predicted. Last night as I tried to give a boy a massage after his hard day of work I'm pretty sure I stabbed him in the neck. Being as how I didn't hit the jugular and he's just happy to be getting one, he didn't say a word. As I waited in line at the drive through Starbucks this morning, I couldn't get my debit card out of its home in my wallet. I had to bend my wallet back and use my teeth. It prevented me from getting a pumpkin scone for breakfast and instead I got a reduced-fat turkey bacon and egg white sandwich. It did not prevent me from getting a pumpkin spice latte. Tis the season, bitches.

Per the request of someone who had too much whine with his pork, here's a photo of my scissorhands. I know. They're not even crazy long. For those that haven't had fakies before, it's not so much the length (I'm used to long nails for the most part), it's the fact that they aren't actually part of your body and you can't feel things with them the same way and it's how thick they are. They're twice as thick as your natural nails which is why it's harder to wedge them under the tab on your can of beer. Hell, I can't even set free a piece of turkey bacon from between my teeth anymore. I had to use a piece of paper in my car on the drive home. I know, this is serious. Hopefully they keep reminding me to stay on track. If not, maybe I can start trimming hedges and cutting hair with them

Nailed it

2009-09-06T18:26:00.000-07:00

I decided to get my nails done today. A full set of fake french loveliness. I've had acrylics before and I never keep them on for very long. They start pissing me off or I can't afford to get them filled all the time. I'm not sure why I keep going back to fake when my nails look beautiful naturally, but I do. Maybe it's the simple fact that they don't break as easily or maybe it's the fact that they just look effin perfect when they're fake and that's me, perfect.

I did it this time for a somewhat odd reason. They are meant to be a constant reminder of what I'm trying to do...better myself. There is very little I can do in a day that isn't somehow affected by my sassy new nails and I'm hoping, at least for a while, it will be a reminder. If I can't get the lid off of the pint of Ben & Jerry's that easily anymore than mayhaps I shouldn't be eating it. Can't open a can of Diet Mt. Dew? Shouldn't be drinking it. Long fake nails just don't cooperate the way long real nails do so things just end up more difficult.

We'll see. It's worth a shot. Regardless, I look hot.

Lovely Rita, Meter Maid

2009-09-05T21:22:00.000-07:00

Have you ever spent a glorious afternoon in the city doing all of your favorite things as if money were no object? Mani with Pedi perhaps? Lunch with the girls/boys? A little retail therapy? In a perfect world, perhaps all of the above with a side of gelato. As you walk back to your car there is a certain bounce in your step and then your perfect day is over. Your stomach drops right out of your body as you notice a meter maid, excuse me, Parking Enforcement Officer, drawing nearer to your car. You check your watch and realize it's only a matter of seconds before your time expires. Your face goes flush, your heart races, beads of sweat form on your brow and, as if in slow motion, you start racing towards your car with arms and shopping bags flailing. You reach the meter as Rita starts flipping open her pad just itching to tally another ticket towards her quota. Clock ticking you start frantically searching your pockets and purse for the one thing that can save you right now...change.

That's what I need right now...change, or rather, changes. I need to make a lot of them. I haven't been doing very much right lately. At best I go a day or two before it all goes wrong again. I usually start off well, but if I haven't screwed it up by lunch I certainly have by dinner. The last couple weeks I've been eating better, but not good enough. I'm getting a little exercise, but not enough. Any of you that have been following me for any decent amount of time know that I can really only do this if I'm consumed by this. I haven't wanted to be consumed by this. I've been too busy being consumed by school and money and everything else life has been throwing at me. The thing is, when I am consumed by weight loss and doing everything right, I find it much easier to deal with all of the things life throws at me. I feel in control and better able to face any obstacles put in front of me. I feel stronger, I have more energy, I have more focus.

Here are 10 changes I'm prepared to offer you, Lovely Rita, Meter Maid, because I'm by no means ready for my time to expire just yet.

1. At least 32 oz. of water every day
2. At least 4 blog entries a week
3. Consistently Twitter every day about what I'm doing and what I'm eating
4. At least 30 minutes of exercise 5 days a week
5. Get out of bed before 8 every weekday
6. Be in bed before 11:30 every weekday
7. Eat a healthy low-fat breakfast every day
8. Eat 5 to 6 small meals a day
9. Start taking my diabetes meds again
10. Stop the negative self-talk

Put the ticket book away, bitch, I just bought myself some more time.

Weighing in

2009-08-31T23:27:00.000-07:00

Not in a getting on the scale sort of way, that would be just silly. No, I am finally weighing in on More To Love (aka Fatchelor). Let's first address the big stud Luke. Dude, I know you're like a kid in a candy store, but stop making out with EVERYONE! Some of those chicks will boil your bunny in a heartbeat and that's just giving them flames for the fire. Speaking of bunny boilers, the three people that annoyed me the most are now gone and two of them had fatal attraction down to a tee.

Lauren. Backstab much? Catty effin bitch. Good Jesus. She'd kick puppies to get that ass. Kristian. Not so much a bunny boiler as an "I'll slit my wrists to get your attention" kind of girl. That girl moves faster than Michael Vick picking up soap in the shower. There's this thing called "mystery" that's kind of attractive when dating. Look into it. Melissa (Mel B). Oooooh sweetheart. Dear God I hope this has given you an ounce of self-esteem. Nuff said.

So, now there are, what, four girls left? I don't know them. He's weeded out the drama queens and left me with 4 girls I have no opinion of, except maybe Malissa. She's kinda full of herself sometimes. Jury is still out.

I'm tired. It's been a very trying week of introspection and realization. Will possibly broach those subjects tomorrow. Must. Sleep. Now.

Because I'm fat

2009-08-30T19:20:00.000-07:00

Because I'm fat I'm expected to fail.
Because I'm fat people think I'm lazy.
Because I'm fat most men have treated me like shit.
Because I'm fat I'm expected to have terrible self-esteem.
Because I'm fat it is sometimes hard for me to take a compliment.
Because I'm fat I don't travel.
Because I'm fat I can't wear the clothes I want to.
Because I'm fat I get out of breath easily.
Because I'm fat summer sucks.
Because I'm fat guys don't typically approach me when I'm out.
Because I'm fat I don't go swimming. I like to swim.
Because I'm fat exercise is just fucking hard.
Because I'm fat everything is just fucking hard.
Because I'm fat I haven't gotten as many tattoos as I would like.
Because I'm fat it is sometimes hard for me to believe in myself.
Because I'm fat I can't eat anything without feeling like I'm doing something wrong.
Because I'm fat I get jealous of things that skinny girls can do that I just can't.
Because I'm fat I have diabetes.
Because I'm fat I don't like crowds.
Because I'm fat I hate to shop.
Because I'm fat it is hard for me to let people get close to me.
Because I'm fat I haven't lived my life the way I'd have liked.
Because I'm fat I've never been in love.
Because I'm fat I don't believe that I've ever truly been loved.
Because I'm fat I'm often invisible.
Because I'm fat I'm a disappointment to my father.
Because I'm fat I am scared.
Because I'm fat...

Because I'm fat I try not to judge people.
Because I'm fat I know what pain is and try not to inflict it on others.
Because I'm fat I have learned how to be independent and fend for myself.
Because I'm fat I've never been a bridesmaid.
Because I'm fat I haven't spent my life hungry.
Because I'm fat I've never had to worry about being bikini ready.
Because I'm fat I've developed a quick wit and a sharp tongue.
Because I'm fat I'm used to rejection and criticism which makes graphic design easier.
Because I'm fat I am sensitive to others.
Because I'm fat I have a thick skin.
Because I'm fat I am instantly sexy just by being confident in myself.
Because I'm fat I am a great friend.
Because I'm fat, when I do find love, I know it will be based on who I am not what I look like.
Because I'm fat I have curves that a real woman should have.
Because I'm fat I'm an amazing and caring woman.
Because I'm fat I am strong.
Because I'm fat I am fierce.
Because I'm fat...

Twitter: Making it easier for stalkers since 2006

2009-08-28T11:25:00.000-07:00

I jumped on the MySpace bandwagon after years of a pretty solid boycott when people kept telling me to go to their MySpace page to see pics of them. Well, you can't SEE all their pics without having a page of your own. Well played, Tom, well played. Still hate you and your space.

Facebook? Held off on that until the daily nagging of a classmate did me in last winter. Thanks to my blackberry and the ease of updating my status and my occasional nosey nature, I'm on that stupid shit nearly every day. People I didn't even talk to in high school have "friended" me, never really saying a word, only to add just one more person to their list of friends. Here's hoping you break 50 by the new year. All in all, I like it. It has been nice catching up with people I actually WAS friends with in high school and keeping an eye on those that I love dearly, but never get to see. Most people update their status weekly, daily, occasionally throughout their day. I put up a random thought or activity here and there depending on my day.

Which brings me to Twitter. Really? I've never been good at this. I signed up around the time of Facebook and think I've "tweeted" all of nine times. Twitter is nothing more than the status updates that Facebook has. That is it's sole purpose in cyberspace. It is for people who are only 140 characters worth of witty. We all know I often need a minimum of 1,560 characters to fully address my snarky ways. I am being judged because I don't pay enough attention to Twitter now. Apparently, people want to know what I'm doing minute to minute. I really am not that exciting. I am going to be one of those people that tweets about going to the bathroom. Anyway, to help my neglected tweets I have downloaded a widget on the dashboard of my mac that will make it easier and I have added my tweets over yonder in the sidebar. Now you can stalk me like I like. I will try to post often with what I'm eating so you all can give me a long distance punch in the neck when it's bad. I can't wait.

Chaos Theory

2009-08-19T07:06:00.000-07:00

I've been told that I should join the rotund masses and head to Cleveland (of all places) in January. This is when a bunch of us weight loss bloggers are congregating to meet each other. I've been told it's mandatory; to not even try to say no. To which I countered with the fact that I don't think my ass will be plane seat ready by January.

I do think it would be insanely fun to meet those that hunker down in the same trenches I do, but I'm not so sure this is something I can pull off with my unemployed ass. I will likely stay in Oregon to try and keep the weight distribution even. If I, too, went to Cleveland it might cause the earth to shift on its axis thus throwing off its gravitational pull. Kind of like the Butterfly Effect. If all of the venti-sized bloggers of the world were in Cleveland at the same time can you be certain that a tsunami wouldn't wipe out some poor village in Thailand? I don't know about you, but that's guilt I can't live with. It might cause me to binge.

We hold these truths to be self-evident

2009-08-18T15:03:00.000-07:00

I don't blog well when I'm going to school. I don't eat well when I'm going to school. I don't exercise well when I'm going to school. This much I know is true. I also know that when I am not doing well at weight loss I have no inspiration to write about weight loss. You end up with pointless drivel about school girl crushes on boys that can't catch a clue. The only real success of the last couple months is that I am completely and utterly over aforementioned crush. As of a few days ago he's still suggesting that we hang out again, but if we do, it will remain just as platonic as the first time we went out. There has been a lot of dating, though. And by a lot I mean that I probably met about a dozen guys in the span of a month or two. None of it went especially well. None that is, but one. One that I met about a month and a half ago and who I now see almost every day.

I just finished the summer term of school and have about 5 weeks to bask in lackadaisical bliss. To hang out with a boy and make some bad decisions. To go on road trips and maybe even get real crazy and rent a hotel room. To make having fun and enjoying myself my only real responsibility. Thanks to Lynn at the unemployment office, that just got a little more feasible.

I'd been growing more and more tense the last couple weeks knowing that my latest round of unemployment benefits was coming to an end. This week it did. I had to wait until the balance officially showed zero and then call. I waited on hold for what seemed like ever and then Lynn answered. We went through the formalities and she told me that I still had 10 weeks of an extension left on my last claim that we could first exhaust and when that was up we would figure out the next course of action. I said, "I know this is wishful thinking, but will the amount be the same as the old claim or the amount of this new claim." expecting for her to laugh me right off the phone with my delusional ways. No, No, she quickly became my new best friend as she told me that the amount of money that I'll be getting for the next ten weeks will be the amount I was getting on my last claim. You see, round about spring break when I had to file a new claim, they dropped my benefits by about $700 a month and it's been agony trying to get by on that. I may or may not have threatened girl on girl action at that point as I now loved her so very very much.

On the diet front. I have no idea. I haven't been on a scale in weeks. I've been skipping a lot of meals. Like, eating once a day kind of skipping a lot of meals. Other days I'm eating a bunch of fast food and various other gluttonous behavior. My metabolism is probably waiving a white flag and my diabetes? Well, we'll just not talk about that. It seems as though I still haven't found a successful way to balance the insanity of school with the agony of weight loss. Must. Find. Way. Anyone have any suggestions?

Taste the rainbow

2009-06-21T18:10:00.001-07:00

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.

BBQ, Me and You

2009-06-20T22:09:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-06-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

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?

2009-06-18T03:43:00.000-07:00

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.

Never let it settle

2009-06-17T16:04:00.000-07:00

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 lettuce...now 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!

Video Diaries Are Scary...Take Two

2009-06-16T12:45:00.000-07:00

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.

Video Diaries Are Scary

2009-06-15T19:28:00.000-07:00

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.

Bow chicka bow wow

2009-06-14T21:46:00.000-07:00

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?

Quick and dirty post

2009-06-13T13:57:00.000-07:00

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

Waving my white flag

2009-05-29T10:16:00.000-07:00

I surrender, or quit rather. The responses I got last night from Alex were as follows:

Alex: No I did not know that. That's funny though...people always like to gossip.

Me: Daniel has been telling me to ask you out all day. What's that about?

Alex: I didn't say anything to him...I don't know what to say.

Me: Interesting. I guess I get Daniel harassing me and you get Laura. They probably won't stop until we're making out in a back room somewhere knowing them.

As of 11:30 last night...that's where we left it. And, to be honest, that's where we're going to leave it. My Gemini ways have me already getting bored. If anything ever happens it will be because he grew a pair and repeaked my interest because right now he's dropping back down to "just friends" status.

Did I mention that I went to 24 hour fitness on Tuesday? No, of course I didn't. I'm only posting about the ways of stupid socially inept boys these days because that and school are all I've focused on lately. Well, I did. I got a 7 day pass and went to use it. All the sales people were gone for the night so she just gave me a day use pass and said to come back and we'd initiate the 7 day pass. Whatevs. I worked out and realized I don't like that gym. It's one of the Lance Armstrong Super Sport versions and it's the only one between school and home that's somewhat easy to get to. It was packed, it was way too stuffy in there, and it's more expensive to join a super sport than a sport. No thanks. It was nice to be back at it, though. To feel like I'm making an effort again. I've lost a little at the last few WW meetings, but will only be going until the middle of next month. Can't afford the $40 a month with the way unemployment is fucking me these days. I'm so broke I'm taking summer classes just to try and get more financial aid money so I can live. Oddly though, I'm still not stressed out. It's like the day I decided I wasn't going to let all these things get me down...they didn't. Is that because I'm stronger or more at ease with things being out of my control? I don't know. Maybe I'm just so used to bad things happening that I'm unable to give a shit anymore. Either way, not caring is nice right now.

I have about one more week of classes for this term and it's going to be a rough one. There are a lot of projects due that involve a lot of work. After that I have two weeks off before summer classes start. My plan for summer was to really focus (like last summer) on losing as much weight as I can. It would be nice to go back to school in the fall and have people do a double take. We'll see what me, good food choices, my wii, and walking out at my brother's can do for me because I likely won't be able to join a gym just yet. Wish me luck, I could use some.

I got rocks like Gibraltar

2009-05-28T21:48:00.000-07:00

The Rock of Gibraltar is a mass of land made of limestone off of the southwestern tip of Europe. It is 1,396 feet high and borders Spain. My rocks? Are bigger. I got balls, yo. Not only have I invited Alex to a couple things now that have lead to the successful exchange of phone numbers, but today I texted him and said, "People seem consumed by the topic of Alex and Kelly did you know that? Lots of talk about being convinced that you like me and yet I'm oblivious to it. Do they have intel I don't?" I know. I don't believe it either. Here is where you're probably wondering what his response was. So are my friends, I assure you, and so am I. I haven't gotten one. I just sent it a couple hours ago while he was in class and I know for a fact that he's not as glued to his cell phone as I am. Lord only knows when I'll get a response.

You see, Daniel was pressuring me all day about the fact that I need to just ask Alex out. That Alex isn't going to do it because he has no game. Agreed, he does not; however, I am not bold enough to just ask him out. This was my very own version of getting to the bottom of things without making myself look like a complete ass and having everything crazy awkward for the next year. I've simply made an inquiry. I haven't confessed a rumored crush. I haven't asked him out only to be rejected. I've simply asked if what everyone ELSE thinks is true...is. Hee.

The boy is told to kiss me and then he still walks me to my car knowing full well that everyone is going to THINK he kissed me? I've told the boy he's adorable and he only talks to me more? We're having a critique in class and there are empty chairs everywhere. Who does he sit by? Me. These are just a few of the reasons Daniel swears that Alex likes me. Daniel says he knows men and this man likes me.

I feel like this is a win/win for me. Alex will either sac up and tell me that it's true and we'll get married, honeymoon in Holland and have little left handed, dutch, graphic design babies OR Alex will tell me that it's all absurd and complete bullshit and I will have proved Daniel wrong. Sweet victory, my friends, sweet victory. Regardless, if my socially inept friend ever checks his texts and responds, this is getting resolved ASAP. That's how I roll.

Why don't boys come with spec sheets?

2009-05-19T18:10:00.000-07:00

Today started with an interview. An interview for a Graphic Design Internship with the marketing department of my school. I wowed them, naturally, and they told me that I would most definitely be successful in this line of work. Problem is, I am currently enrolled with some of the most talented people this school has seen. They even said so. That the caliber of work that we, as first year students, are producing is mind blowing. Roughly stated: competition abounds for this job. Whatevs.

The day progressed with me working up the nerve to say something to the boy regarding last weeks events. The nerve to put myself out there and suggest that Laura might not have been completely off base with her comments. My first and second attempts to be alone with him were thwarted as other people came up to me just as he was about to go by. Damn my burdensome popularity. Both times he stopped and talked, but no way was I going to say what I had to say in front of other people.

Well, about a half hour ago I got my opportunity. I sat at the table outside of lab knowing that he would come in before heading to his class next door. I was working on projects and he came up. We talked about school and I suddenly didn't want to do it. I REALLY didn't want to do it. I had what I wanted to say somewhat planned out, but wasn't sure if I'd be able to eloquently execute it. I had told a couple of the friends that I was going to say something to him and now, there was no turning back. All or nothin'. Go big or go home.

"Soooo, I just wanted to apologize for Laura last week (pause for his reaction and comment suggesting we were on the same page). I don't know what all got said, but I DO know about the napkin (insert his laughter and surprise that I knew). And ummm, it might have been my fault (laugh). Laura has some mission to find a guy for me, and, uh, I may or may not have told her that I thought you were adorable."

Fuck me, that was awkward.

He told me that it was ok, that he had a good time, etc., etc. He was about to head into class, but stopped and sat with me instead. He showed me what he was turning in today and we talked about school some more. Nothing about my comments was mentioned. No professions of his mutual assessment of my adorableness. No suggestions of coffee were made. It was as if I'd said nothing.

I don't know if he sat down because he wanted to be there or if he felt like he had to be. I don't know if the feeling is mutual or if he's just merely flattered and being polite. I don't know if what I said was all he needed to hear to have the confidence to proceed or if he's a completely daft prick and completely didn't understand the magnitude of what just happened. I do know...that I kind of feel like an ass, but do appreciate that he sat down with me regardless of the reasoning behind it.

Translator needed. Apply within.

2009-05-17T17:31:00.000-07:00

Kelly: Rumor has it that dear sweet Laura was up to no good last night, bless her little heart. That she may have suggested something was up with me and Alex???

Daniel: hahahaha suggested?

Kelly: What the heck was said?

Daniel: lets put it this way: a napkin reading "kiss her" was kicking around.

Kelly: OMFG, Daniel!! WTF?

Daniel: Wasn't me. No one included me. I did sleuth things out though. As did quite a few of the others.

Kelly: I know you didn't WRITE it. I saw her give it to him and asked her what she just did. I just didn't realize that everyone read it.

Daniel: It was sitting out on the table. Did he do it?

Kelly: Poor kid. He finally starts socializing and he gets Laura all up in his shit. Just what did all your sleuthing deduce?

Daniel: That love was/is in the air.

Kelly: LOL crackhead.

Daniel: Deny it, foo.

Kelly: I don't know what you want me to say. I've thought Alex was adorable since day one of typo last term, but I didn't know him. hardly constitutes love being in the air.

Daniel: And now you know him, and he's into you...so um...I don't know how I can make this anymore clear...go forth and kern closer together.

Kelly: Into me? Huh? I obviously missed a LOT on Thursday. Him being nice while Laura practically plans our wedding in front of everyone doesn't constitute him being into me.

Daniel: So, did you dudes make out in the porking lot?

Kelly: Hell no. He said he wanted to see my car cuz he found out I had a convertible. So, we walked to my car, talked, and I left.

Daniel: Aight I gotta bounce. I'll see you at eight.

There is only one aspect of this conversation that needs translating..."And now you know him, and he's into you." Is Daniel assuming? Does Daniel have secret intel that no one else does? Is he just egging me on? Jerk didn't answer me. Tomorrow should be fun. I have two classes with Daniel, one of which Alex is in as well. Good times.

It's time...to blog it out.

2009-05-15T11:12:00.000-07:00

Journaling, for me, has always been a way to clear my head and get said things I might never be able to verbalize to anyone else. For me, it's therapy that money can't buy. This blog is the only journal I work on these days. Here, though, I edit myself and use a filter 85% of the time; careful not to say too much or be too inappropriate. I carefully try to balance sharing my life with not sharing too much. Letting readers in without letting them get too close. Today I'm throwing out all filters and getting to the core of some things.

I don't know how to let people get close to me. I've been treated badly, very badly, in my past and now I have walls up that might have served China well a few centuries ago. I am more guarded than the Queen of England only without all the ceremonial b.s. getting in the way of the task at hand. This gets in the way of trying to establish relationships.

I'm fat. I know. I just found out myself. Though I'm far greater at presenting self-confidence than I used to be, I am often overwhelmed with feelings of self-doubt, self-loathing, and self-consciousness. This works against me on so many levels when it comes to men. On the rare occasion that someone does peak my interest, I presume that, at my size, I don't stand a chance despite my sparkling personality. This means I'm not going to make any bold moves to make my intentions known. On the flip side, if the same guy shows me any signs that he is interested, I don't have the first clue how to deal with it. I misread the signs as him just being nice. I convince myself that it can't be possible. I give him no chance to proceed because I make it seem like it's the last thing I could possibly want despite how much I might. This gets in the way of trying to establish relationships.

When I am with someone, I can't verbalize how I feel. Often times, I don't even know how I feel, but mostly, I feel like if I actually SAID how much I liked someone that they would take that as their opportunity to hurt me. That it would be ammo in a very fucked up gunfight where I never win. Conversely, if I never admit how much I might care, then I can't get hurt. If I don't say it, then I don't care. Kind of like my philosophy on illnesses. If the doctor hasn't told me I have X, then I must not have X...despite the fact that I just plain haven't been to the doctor. Oddly, guys don't like this. They need reaffirming and ego stroking. This gets in the way of trying to establish relationships.

Are we seeing a trend? Are we beginning to understand why I'm single and why last night was so awkward for me? It's like I'd almost rather he'd have made it clear that he's not interested. That he just would have said to Laura, "I'm flattered, but I don't think it's a good idea." That's a reaction I'm oddly capable of dealing with. Like I was hoping that WAS my phone number he was pushing back across the table. If he'd have done that, then I wouldn't have to figure out how to let someone get close to me. If he'd have done that, then this would all be over and I wouldn't have to continue wondering if there are bright neon signs that I am misconstruing as friendship. If he'd done that, I could concentrate on my homework instead of obsessing with everything I did wrong last night. Believe me, that list is getting long. I'm a hot mess, people, a hot mess.

OMG and WTF

2009-05-14T23:46:00.000-07:00

So, the frantic nature of this post might be because I'm just a flighty bitch sometimes, might be because I'm floored by the events of tonight, or it may or may not be because I'm still slightly intoxicated. Let's proceed shall we? Hang on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

Tonight was the night that my classmates and I were to go out and have drinks after class. On a normal night, I am working in the lab until 8 and right next door they are in class until almost 9. Not tonight. Tonight they got out at 6:30. I still had to stay until 8. They were all at the bar well before I could even leave school. Lame. Not the point of this post.

Before I continue with the events of tonight it's time to give names. Laura is my bestest bud in the program. Andy is another close friend. Andy and Laura were (notice I said were) the only one's that knew about my crush on Alex. Yes, Dutchie has a real name. Daniel is another one of my friends and will be explained later.

I get to the bar and walk in to our "usual" spot, pass Alex, Andy and Daniel's end of the table without saying anything, and head straight to Laura's end. Me. Coy. Subtle. Etc. Whatever. I'm barely there long enough to get my coat off when Alex comes up to say hi and tries to score a high five. I, naturally, inquire as to how much he's had without me as he has never suggested that we should high five nor has he slurred quite so much. We, and Laura, talk for a bit and he goes back to where he was originally. Andy informs me that he has intel but must pee first to sober up a little before he can tell me. On pins and needles, Laura and I wait outside the men's room for the scoop. Apparently, when someone from the program that was there that I really don't know very well asked who "Kelly" was before I got there, Alex was quick to jump on describing me with things like, "You know, she just cut her hair. She had really long hair and she just cut it really short. She..." and proceeded with giving information about me. Andy takes that as a good sign.

The three of us go back to the table and Alex is now sitting across from where I was sitting. Laura and I sit down and the three of us were talking about all kinds of things. She's asking all kinds of questions about him and his life and his past and does he have a girlfriend and "No? You don't? Kelly? You're single aren't you?" Wow. Good thing I'd had a couple drinks. Then Laura leaves he and I there to fend for ourselves (somehow, not sure, this is when Daniel found out that Alex and I getting together was Laura's mission and deems this something he can make happen). Alex and I continue to talk and laugh and get to know each other and all is right with the world. We casually start mingling with the others and every time I go to another table to talk to someone else, within no time, Alex is standing next to me again. I go to another table, turn, and Alex is standing next to me. After a while I look over and he is talking to Laura. She nods in my direction in a "get that, yo." sorta way. He laughs and tells her to shut up. She says something else and he says, "Yeah?" and "Really?" which I took as "Not a terrible idea." The I look back and see her slipping him a napkin. I think it's my phone number. He looks at it laughs and lays it back on the table. WTF? He's not taking it. He's ignoring it. Wait. He's folding it. No, leaving it. No, wait, he's??? WTF? I text her and ask her what she just did. Apparently, she wrote "Kiss her!" OMG.

After a little while longer, she takes my keys because I was ready to go and she didn't want me to. I ask for them again and she gives them to Alex and tells him, in front of everyone, that he should walk me to my car. He takes them. I tell everyone I'm leaving and he gives me my keys. I walk out. Mortified. I'm barely out the door when I hear "Hey, let me see this ride." It's Alex. He found out tonight what I drive. I said, "It should be over here somewhere." and just kept walking (I SHOULD have stopped and let him walk with me). We got to my car and talk a little while as I got my bag out of my trunk. Talked a little more as I opened my car door. Then he told me to drive safe (I SHOULD have stayed out there and talked to him and not made it look like I couldn't get out of there fast enough).

Here's why I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I didn't know what all got said to him when I wasn't around. I didn't know if he came out there on his own or if he was peer pressured into following me out. I didn't want him to think I had a hand in the awkward comments made by my friend or that it was all part of my master plan. After talking to my friend on the phone later I now know that he came out there all on his own. That she was surprised he did. I know that I'm a fucking dumb ass and totally cock blocked MYSELF! Who does that, by the way? I know that things could be all kinds of awkward when I see them all again. I know that I'm tired, confused, mortified, and going to bed. OMG and WTF?

Plans A through C

2009-05-09T19:58:00.000-07:00

Plan A: Make the most of summer vacation to get over this stupid crush and lose tons of weight.

For the last few days I thought that I only had to get through the next 4 weeks with this crush and that over the summer break I would find a way to get completely over it. I'd find a distraction, a replacement, a reason to never think twice about it again. Well, apparently there are forces at work that are beyond me. As it stands right now, he and I have both signed up for the same summer class. So much for that plan, onto plan B.

Plan B: Rid myself of the crush quickly by finding something so annoying about him that I can hardly even hold a conversation with him.

Though in its early stages, this plan isn't going very well. I keep hoping I'll hear him saying something rude or inappropriate; nothing. He's both nice and polite so far. I keep hoping I'll notice that his clothes are dirty or that he smells funny; nope. Bad teeth; no they're perfect. The only thing I can even remotely find fault in is that his nails are about a week past needing to be cut, but they're clean so really? How much can I bitch?

Plan C: I believe my new favorite bad ass, Liam Neeson, put it best in Taken...what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.

I'm going to wow him with my graphic design prowess, win him over with my sparkling personality, and just when I have him within my clutches, give him the ol' one two with my quick wit (I may or may not lean over his desk with a low cut shirt). He very likely has no current interest in me, but should Plan B backfire then I will spend the next year perfecting Plan C.

I chopped off all my hair yesterday. By chopped off I mean that my neck is bare. Dutchie cut his yesterday, too. See, we even think alike. I know this because today I was working in the Graphic Design computer lab with a couple friends when he came in. Neither of us mentioned our new dos...other people did it for us. Unfortunately, he looks even cuter. He's killin me. We talked quite a bit, but mostly project related things. One of my friends left and surprised us by bringing back ice cream sundaes for us all. He and I sat and ate ice cream together. Swoon.

So, I'm still hoping I'll find something unbearable about him that will help me cope because right now I'm so frickin' distracted that I can't focus on school the way I normally do. It's terrible. I've managed to save myself this agony for a very long time and don't especially dig this sort of thing. Should I need to put Plan C into effect...what are YOUR suggestions (besides losing a couple hundred pounds)?

Check Yes or No

2009-05-07T18:11:00.000-07:00

Remember in grade school when you (or your friends) liked someone and everything could be sorted out with one well written note? Maybe you've even received one in your day. Passed from the back of the room, shoulder over shoulder, until it finally reached you. You'd open it and see, "I like you. Do you like me? Check yes or no." followed by the sloppily penned signature of your admirer. You'd check a box designating your chosen response and pass it back. If you chose yes, whether you ever spoke to him again or not, you were now his girlfriend. Done deal. End of story. When my brother was in grade school this is how he scored the affection of a particular girl. I'm not sure how long it lasted, but I do know that when they got a little older he must have crafted a much more devious plan to score her because he is now married to her.

I remind you of this dating ritual of our youth because right now I feel like I'm back in middle school. I feel distracted and giddy. I feel anxious and, well, stupid. Since high school (uh, that's a long time ago, people) the number of times I've had a thing for someone I've had to interact with on a daily basis is minimal and since I'm so socially inept I don't deal with them well. Think I'm kidding about being socially inept? Try this on for size. Last night I went to a bar I like that's close to my house. It's pretty low key and I knew that I could bring Mac and sit and work on some things for school. I was sitting there and the four seats to my right filled up with a group of friends. All of a sudden I heard the guy next to me say to his friend on the opposite end, "No, I'm not lonely down here. I've got a beautiful woman sitting to the left of me." Cue the crickets because I said nothing. Not thank you. Not "Sho you right." Nothing. I acted as if I didn't even hear him. Who's lame? I'm lame.

Which brings me to new boy from class. Hereforto known as Dutchie because a couple weeks ago he and I talked about the fact that his dad is Dutch. I know; so meant to be I can hardly stand it. Mondays and Wednesdays he and I have a class together. I got all dolled up and came to school. Comment after comment was made about my long straight hair and how cute I looked. I got through my first class and then it was time for my class with him. People were talking to me when he came in, but I saw him do a double take out of the corner of my eye as he entered. I sat at my desk (him sitting at the computer across the aisle to my right) and started working on my project while we waited for class to start. He got up and came over to me and said, "Hey, Kelly. How are you?" He could have done that from where he was sitting. I don't think for a split second that he likes me, but I like to read a lot into the fact that he got up and walked over to me instead of doing it 3 feet away from me. We talked for a minute and class started. I talked to him a little more later and at one point I sat between him and one of my guy friends so that I could talk to said friend. Dutchie participated in the conversation a little while he worked and I subtley put the pressure on him to join us for drinks next week.

Today I didn't see him until 2. I was secretly hoping that he would appear at my table again like he did Tuesday, but he didn't. I went to the Graphic Design work room that is between the two rooms we have classes in. I sat in there working and he showed up for his class. Initially nothing much got said. I said a few things to him when he'd come in there to get something off the printer, but not much. It was becoming more and more obvious that I'm not on his radar at this point. After that class it was time for me to slip into the other room and stand post as Graphic Design Lab Assistant. I do this every Tuesday and Thursday from 5-8. He usually comes in while he waits for his 6pm class. He hadn't. I decided to run over to the main building and get something to eat. I was walking up to my food vendor of choice and saw that he was there. I didn't say anything. I didn't look at him. I just walked past him and looked at what sandwiches they had. He bought his food and I heard, "Hey, Kelly. How are you?" Now, he could easily have just walked off and not said anything. For all he knew, I hadn't even noticed him. He didn't. He stuck around to say hi. We talked for a minute and as I turned my attention to the lady that wanted my money, he stepped away. I thought he was gone, but he had only stepped around the corner and as I started heading back to our building, he did, too. We walked back to class together and talked. If only he'd have carried my books. Oh wait, I didn't have any books.

So, yes, I do wish I could just pass him a note and get my definitive answer, but I can't. Life isn't that easy anymore. Life is all angsty and complicated now. My friend says she's going to help me out on that front as much as she can, but that at this moment she's not picking up on anything either way. There's only one thing that can sum up the way this is going. WTF?

Confessions of a 30-something school girl

2009-05-05T18:09:00.000-07:00

So, it's time. Time for a confession. A confession of monumental proportions. No, I didn't get freak nasty with a pint of Ben & Jerry's. No, I didn't binge on various unmentionables...oh wait, I did, but we're not talking about that. It's not about my laptop, my lack of weight loss, or my stress level (which is TOTALLY in check right now). My friends? My devoted readers? My family that just feels obligated to still suffer through this meaningless drivel because it gets sent to their inboxes when I click post? It's about a boy. I...have a wee lil mini crush.

Any of you that know me well know that I've had my fair share of dates with people I've met on the internet. This is not my ideal way of meeting men because there is always fear of rejection looming over every first date. I've never really BEEN rejected because I don't hide my size before we meet. I make it very clear. I date guys that like, or claim to like, that sort of thing. Nevertheless, I go completely bat shit crazy with angst before every first encounter. I worry (like it's my job) that the person is going to be completely disgusted by me because they weren't paying attention when I explained my hugeness or thought I was exaggerating. In a perfect world, I would meet guys out in real life where they see me live and in color and still think I'm bringin' sexy back.

What sucks for me is that on the rare occasion that I do meet someone I like out in the real world, I can't tell them. At my size, there is a 99% chance that he won't like me. I can make conversation, flirt, come up with reasons to be near them, but I can't tell them. The most I can do is secretly hope that he's just as twitterpated, but has the manlies to make a move. Especially if it's someone I have to see every day AFTER the embarrassing and awkward confession of interest. This never happens. That is why, despite my growing interest, I will not be telling a particular boy that I think he's adorable (enter big sigh here).

Last term I had a guy in my class and on the first day, as I perused the room to see if there was anyone I was friends with in there, I spied him. I didn't see him the term before and this is a close knit group so I wondered who he was. I thought he was cuteish and wished I'd have sat next to him. As the term progressed, it became obvious that he was the quiet type. I rarely saw him talking to anyone let alone me. I wanted to know what this boy was all about, but didn't make any efforts or think much about it.

Last term my closest design buddy was intent on determining who in the program should be my boyfriend. It seemed like every week she was pointing out someone else that would be good for me. Usually, she was WAY off base! As the term wound down I told her that if there was anyone in the program that I would want to make graphic design babies with, it would be "him." She hadn't had any classes with him and knew nothing of said boy. This term, I have one class with him and she has like three (completely unfair, but I digress). When he walked into class on the first day he said hi and asked if there were any free seats. I quickly said that the one next to me was open (nevermind all the ones across the room). He was going to sit there when I noticed that someone had set there bag on the floor when I wasn't looking. Foiled again! I corrected myself and pointed to the one on the other side of me that was across the aisle. He sat there, quietly.

Over the last few weeks, he has been making a solid effort to get to know my circle of design Gods. He makes comments here and there or asks for an opinion. He's started talking to the guys more and actively participating in conversation. The last few days though? Have mercy. He and I have talked a lot. I'm now making up reasons to talk to him. I'm asking his opinion on my design whether I want it or not. I'm sitting close and leaning in when he asks for help. Saturday he confessed that he isn't on Facebook and we told him that he had the weekend to remedy that. He said he was still on MySpace and hadn't ventured over to the other side yet. Today I was sitting at a table in the common area outside our classes killing time before my 2:00 p.m. class. I had Mac so I was watching a movie and working on some things. I remembered the MySpace comment and decided I needed to look. I needed to know how old he was at the very least, maybe see if he had a girlfriend. Any intel I could get would be good at this point. I eventually found him on there. I was looking through his pictures, hadn't read anything other than the fact that he is 28 and claims to be single. I looked up and my heart lept from my chest as he was walking toward me with a huge smile. I don't think I've ever closed a screen faster. He couldn't see it, but would have as he came around to sit next to me. My heart was racing. He asked if I was going to be sitting there for a while and I said yes. He set his stuff down and said he'd be right back. A few minutes later he was back and sat with me. We talked about projects, I asked him some Getting To Know You type questions and tried not to look all glossy eyed and stupid as he talked. Swoon.

We now break for these important messages.

I'm at school right now working in the design lab and he has class in the room connected to this one. He just came in and sought me out to ask if I had an extra plastic folder (that we turn our projects in with) that he could borrow. Whether I do or don't, even if I had to take all of my stuff out of one to let him borrow it, I jumped on the chance. Flutter.

Now back to this post already in progress.

Once in class I texted my aforementioned buddy and told her that it has progressed to a full blown mini crush. She's giddy about the whole thing. She was in class with him at that very moment and decided that he's really great and she approves. Now I have someone to giggle with about the whole thing every time he walks by. Not sure that's a good thing as it makes me feel like I'm back in high school. I told her that we needed to have another after class drinkfest at the bar up the street next week. She agreed. I proceeded to invite the regulars as I saw them and then he and I were talking again and I invited him. He seems interested, though confessed that seeing him drunk might not be a good thing. Oh how I disagree.

So there you have it, my confession. He and I have class tomorrow morning. Now that my crush is official, maybe I should start coming to school looking like I didn't just roll out of bed, no? Time to bring the heat. He doesn't stand a chance.

This message brought to you in part by

2009-04-22T23:10:00.000-07:00

The letter A
The number 3
And my new MacBook Pro

I went to the campus bookstore today to get a new flash drive because my little 2 gigger wasn't big enough to hold my project for my Illustrator class. Yeah, it's that big. Since I was there I ran upstairs just to ease my mind and have confirmation that my laptop was in fact still not there. You see, when I had called them yesterday they told me that it wasn't due to arrive until sometime on Thursday. Thursday, you see, is when I was leaving for the beach until Sunday. Thursday, in fact, would be too late unless it got there before 11 am. Understanding my plight, Mr. Computer Man told me to call him every day and he'd let me know how things were shaping up. Well, calling is so impersonal, no? He knew who I was upon initial contact today and after checking a few tracking numbers, serial numbers and whatever else it was he checked, he uttered the words, "I think that one's yours." Then voiced his amazement over how it got to Portland from Shanghai in a day. I told him that he was my new best friend. He said he was OK with that.

I've been having my dirty way with it all night. I've been installing software, setting preferences...it's transferring all of my music from my iPod as I type. This entry is, in fact, the first thing I've really done on my new laptop that has nothing to do with setting it up. He's a beauty. Anyone that knows me will have no qualms proclaiming that I am a whore for electronic gadgets...this is no exception. I'll not bore you with the details, just trust that I'm a happy kid as I crawl into bed with dreams of our future together.

On the diet front, I've been 100% on top of things the last two days, which, as of late, is a feet for me. I even meandered around campus for a little while before my first class this morning and discovered something. The school gym and all things associated with physical activity type classes is in the building right next to the one I'm locked in most of the day. Who knew? Not me, obviously. I should see what's involved in using these facilities. Maybe there's a class I can take. Maybe I should take one. I can pretty much guarantee that it won't be swimming as I'm not interested in being half naked on campus at any time. Mayhaps a weight training class? Something of a cardio nature? Options abound I'm sure.

I was skinny until that freak buffet accident.

2009-04-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

Saturday was my mom's surprise birthday party. Complete success. I even managed to distract her as we pulled up to the house because I knew she'd catch on if she saw all the cars. I had her dig in my purse at just the right time to find my lip gloss and she found a brownie that a friend had given me at school. Like a moth to a flame, boy. She was so fixated on that thing that I was in the driveway and parked before she bothered to look up and notice the huge crowd of people. Like mother like daughter, no?

The food aspect was hardcore buffet. All of the invitees were told to bring their favorite dish. Well, they may not know how to RSVP, but they do know how to bring the grub. When I walked up to it and saw how much there was I flashed back to buffet tables of parties past. Buffet tables that have done me in so many times. Buffet tables that, as if it were a cage match, had me tapping out as my waistband cut off the circulation to my naughty bits. Not this time. Not this buffet table. I showed surprising restraint. There was so much food that I found it overwhelming. I was intimidated by it. I wasn't, however, scared and feeling like I was about to undergo an all time record breaking binge. I was just, well, kind of disgusted actually. I didn't even try most of it. I also didn't drink. As a matter of fact, I stayed well away from the food and drink by going to the backyard and throwin' down on the Vball court. Fat girls STILL can't jump, but we do have a wicked serve.

Today I tried out another new workout game for the Wii, Gold's Gym Cardio Workout. It was too hot in my room so I didn't do it for very long. Seems to be a lot of boxing, which I dig big time. I'll have to get back to you on if the game itself is any good. What I can tell you is that in the beginning, when you make your little character and give him/her all of your physical attributes, your belly stops growing once you reach a certain level of gordo. First I upped my lil characters height and she got a nice thin little waist because her weight hadn't changed. Then I started upping the weight and she just got thicker and thicker until her little animated belly had a nice rotundness to it. After a while she stopped growing because even animated Wii people aren't as fat as I am.

I gave homework the finger this weekend, too. I did a little, but I'll have to finish the remainder of the mandatory stuff tomorrow during a between class break I'll have. The weather was just too nice and, well, I was just too crampy. I decided that a day like today was better spent driving around with the top down for a little while, sitting in the backyard with Lola reading something that didn't involve learning anything, and daydreaming about my date with my new laptop. Roughly translated: I wanted to finish kicking my stress in the slats and focus on me a little more. The weather is supposed to be great for a few more days. Me, sunshine, convertible, new laptop, upcoming weekend beach trip, a ban on stress...things are lookin' up kids.

A day of class, culture, and introspection

2009-04-17T19:14:00.000-07:00

I gave the Portland Art Museum three hours of my time today. It had been a very long time since I had been there. Many things were as I remembered them. The Monets, Renoirs and Picassos were all cohabitating together with various other artists. The Asian art exhibit is still so large that it takes up most of the lower level. I now firmly believe that, when it comes to sculpture, the Tang dynasty kicked the Han dynasty's ass. I realized that I still love art as much, if not more, as I always have. I see in every piece something different to appreciate. Mostly I am envious of their talent. Sometimes, I'm envious of the fact that someone, somewhere, got paid a lot of money to paint black stripes on a very large canvas.

I am mostly in awe of the European Collection. Some of the paintings are so life like. Considering the day and age that they were created? Their talent floors me. My question remains the same, however, what is up with all the little boy junk dangling about and all the rubenesque titty shots? Babies just laying around naked and women looking like Janet at Superbowl. Not because they were about to breast feed all the naked babies. Not because they were exquisitely depicted as the voluptuous women that they are. They would just be sitting with their friends and a boob would pop out, crying at the feet of a man in armor as if begging him not to go and a boob would pop out. Playing piano? Oh look, a boob. Plucking a chicken? Boob. Holding your dying husband? Boob. In a big battle with Centaurs? Two Boobs (some of those centaurs were hot, I must say). I get the appreciation for the female form. I love that we big women got mad props back in the day. I thought they were all very beautiful, but, seriously? This was my stroll around the European wing today, "Man in wig...boob...man in wig looking a bit pinched...baby junk...baby junk...baby junk AND boob...two boobs...boob and man in wig...baby's junk getting circumsized. (WTF?)...boob...ah, two women playing piano. Is that a nipple?...baby junk..." I think you get the point. Let's not accuse me of immaturity just yet. I was at least 15 paintings in before I was consumed by the completely random diplays of T&J.

Anyhoo, I came to realize something else during my afternoon of class and culture. I need to get back to being me. I need to find balance. I need to do the things I enjoy and stop stressing so much about things that are out of my control. That's what most of the things going on in my life are; out of my control. Why worry about things that I cannot change? Why let it stifle me and make me miserable? Decision made...no more stress. It's that simple.

Say anything

2009-04-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning to the familiar sound of Peter Gabriel. I slapped my snooze button soundly on the ass, but the music still played. I listened intently trying to determine where it was coming from. I got out of bed and looked out the window. There, with his bose speakers held high above his head (boomboxes are so 1980's), was my Cyrano. I've spent at least 3 years in love with him, but kept telling myself that he was no good for me; that it wasn't the right time in my life. Over the last year it's become more and more obvious that this is a relationship that was destined to be. I would get emails from him and letters in the mail. I would see him at school and at the mall. I couldn't get away from him and couldn't ignore him. I had been waivering over the last few weeks. Things were falling into place and it seemed like we would eventually be together. It seemed like now was our time. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to take the plunge.

My Cyrano is not John Cusack (though, please do give me a call cuz you kinda rock). My Cyrano is not someone I met online or someone that sits across class from me unable to focus on his design because he's so overwhelmingly smitten with me (though, I'm sure my classes are riddled with such casualties of my charm). My Cyrano is a bright and shiny new Macbook Pro. And after such a grand romantic gesture this morning, I agreed to meet him at the bookstore between classes today. Yes, I could have met him at his place (the apple store), but I didn't feel like it was a safe place. I needed neutral territory. I needed to be able to make an unbiased decision and if I had walked into an apple store I would have been like a moth to a flame. I would have seen them in all their prettyness and I would have said to the vulnerable salesman that dared approach, "Look, little man. We don't need to have a talk about how this little gem will meet all of my needs and then some. We don't need to wax poetic about gigabytes, ram, video cards, resolution, warranties or my additional software needs. We don't need to talk about Wacom tablets because I already have one (what we of the computer illustration age draw on, ya know the ones, big tablet of goodness with a pen so that when you draw it shows on the screen?). You, kind sir, are a truly lucky man. This is going to be the quickest sale of your computer pushing career. Now just turn yourself around, walk to the back room, and thank the heavens above that you walked up to me today. Run along now."

Instead, I walked up the stairs of my campus bookstore and I had a lil chat with my new relationship counselor. He explained that size doesn't always matter. That the 17" version is overkill and, really, what's another two inches when you've already got 15? It's just gonna make it heavier to carry around (giggle). Too true, sir, too true. He recommended that I get the 15" and take the money I would have shelled out for the 17" and invest it in a comparably priced, much larger and sassier monitor that I could hook my laptop up to. Agreed. I asked him how long I had after date of purchase to really make a commmitment as involved as a warranty. He explained that I had up until our one year anniversary to tie the knot. This investment was getting cheaper by the minute. I thought about it for .275 milliseconds and told him to sign me up.

I am now fully committed to a solid relationship with a 15" Macbook Pro laptop. We have our first date in 3-5 business days. I just hope that it's before I go to the beach next weekend because we have a lot of catching up to do. It's going to be a beautiful relationship.