The Cottage Cheese Conundrum


I have been wanting to introduce a good protein source into my daily diet for a while now. It's important that I mix up my Weight Watchers activity by ways other than cheating sometimes, you understand...

Cottage cheese is excellent source of protein and calcium and so on and thought this would a simple way to reintroduce this into my life without having to use up a lot of daily points. The problem is that cottage cheese looks like cottage cheese and it tastes like cottage cheese and it IS cottage cheese.

I could find something else but really I just have this freakish thing with food. It really goes back to Julia taunting me about an imaginary list that she and her family thought I had. It was a list of 17 things that I would eat -- and only those things because they were the only things I had ever eaten in my life. So, sometimes when I encounter foods that I am not fond of, I feel the need to prove to an imagined audience that I AM willing to eat other things, and that I will even grow to like them -- much to my own surprise. (Frankly, there are many circumstances where I am not willing to test this theory, but this is mostly to do with the portion of the vegetable family known as The Greens. Collard, mustard, kale, in most cases spinach... You get it. And you can have it when you get it, because I'm not going near it.)

Such has become the Cottage Cheese Conundrum.

Because of this thing, I have recently focused my radar on wanting to eat cottage cheese. I think about it more than is normal. (I really need to get a hobby.) I ask people how do THEY manage to eat cottage cheese. And let me tell you, people do STRANGE things with cottage cheese, and I'm not even talking about that really weird sight I found on the internet... No, I have a friend who eats hers with Catalina dressing. I wasn't even willing to consider that.

Here are a couple that I was willing to attempt in my first few attempts. Salt and pepper was suggested and I thought this would play up the cheesy aspect of the situation. Turns out, I must have gotten too free-handed with the salt packet and it just tasted like salty cottage cheese with a dash of pepper. No good.

An earlier attempt almost cured me of the pursuit entirely. Scott had been required to eat mushy food during his early post-operative days, and I had purchased cottage cheese as one of those items. A short time after, I decided to try the cottage cheese and a friend had suggested dried fruit was a good mix-in. I couldn't find that, but I thought blueberries might be a good complement. Turned out that it was more than a short time before when the cottage cheese had been purchased and the last time it was put in the refrigerator, the lid wasn't exactly put all the way on. Let's just say that while I at least finally figured out where that awful smell coming out of the refrigerator was coming from, I was turned off of cottage cheese for a while.

My latest attempt was at the suggestion of a WW friend. Now, I should have taken the suggestion with a grain of the excess salt from my last cottage cheese experiment, but I'm not that smart. (She's given me past suggestions and swore they were so amazing and they were not as much so.) She suggested the direction to go is sweet. Put a dash of vanilla and a bit of splenda and blend it up. It's the best thing ever, you will swear you died and gone to Heaven -- this is what she promised.

Huh, if that was what Heaven was like, think I'll stay on Earth and stick with Heavenly Hash. Granted, the first bite was pretty good but not quite sweet enough so I added a dash more vanilla and that turned out to be too much and then it was a balancing act (add MORE cottage cheese, add more Splenda, etc) to get back to the first almost okay bite... But, who wants to work this hard to eat something that was only moderately okay??

So, that experiment basically used up the last of the tiny experimental container that I purchased.

And then tonight I learned that in order for a serving of cottage cheese to count as a daily serving of dairy (one of WW's good health guidelines is that you should have two servings of dairy a day) you have to consume 2 CUPS! I mean, Jesus -- are you serious? I can barely gag down 2 tablespoons and they're saying I've got to come up with 2 cups? Just the thought makes me want to hurl.

I'm afraid that cottage cheese is going to be headed the way of collard greens on my list of acceptable foods.

hugs,

Heather

PS -- One of the reasons for the long delay is that we just got back from a week long vacay to California. We got to sit like THIS close to Bruce Willis at Koi in LA and I got a tattoo in Venice Beach... I will put up a picture once it heals.

Things are going pretty well in my life these days. I am always a bit reluctant to talk about that, because I really don't want to tempt fate. I think whenever anyone looks over their life, it will often seem as though some of their happiest times are accompanied by some of their saddest. I believe this is just the way life is, though. It rolls up and down and you just can't get too mired in either one of them because it just won't last. And that's not always a negative way of looking at things, because if you believe the good things won't last then it is only natural that the bad things won't either.

The reason that I am talking about this here now though is not to wax philosophic about how important it is to appreciate these things, but rather to talk about the enviers. The haters, if you will. Into every life haters must come, but I really want to know how to get them to go.

Scott and I both have friends who envy what we have and seem to want to have a similar niche of their own. A place to call home, a person that makes you feel at home -- as a friend of mine recently wrote me,"you really do have it all now, the man, the house, the horse, the sunset, the picket fence, the vineyard..." (Don't worry, she wasn't one of the "haters", she was just being facetious.) But these other friends, they wistfully mourn their station in life, but seem to make NO moves to trying to improve the situation. I mean, my feeling is that at least you could start by improving your attitude. Just try being happy for a minute, see if you like it. If you're not, why not fix it? Why are you envying what other people have instead of trying to get a life of your own that fits you and makes you happy?

I do not understand this.

I'm not going to put myself on a pedastel. I didn't work incredibly hard to get where I am and have what I have. It's not like I had to skip by a pair of shoes I desperately coveted in order to get my credit straightened out or to by this house. I did have to live with my parents for a few years, but hell I needed to get straightened out a little bit. And while I married a man who believes he is Superman, he is no more perfect than I am. Or you are. He's just perfect for me. And the thing that I learned is that you have to be open-minded in who you think is right for you. Most of my closest friends are married to people that I deeply believe that if someone had told them a year before they met them that they would be the man they married... They would have laughed. Outrageously. One of my best friends is relatively old-fashioned and has an "old soul" and she married someone 8 years younger than she is. Another's politics lean so far to the left that they almost circle back around again and she is married to one of the biggest Bush defenders I have every met.

So, you just never know.

I don't know... I guess no matter how hard I try, I can't fight the feeling that I am doing something wrong by being happy and revelling in how good things are right now. It really makes me feel guilty... Is that crazy? I mean, why should I tailor my emotions to not make other people feel bad? Is it wrong that I want to climb every mountain and all of that other crap out of musicals??

I just want to gloat, is that so wrong?? :)

The Fairytale Birthday Story for the 2 people who hadn't already heard...

It would be difficult to fathom that there is anyone left who has NOT heard this story, but just in case... (Copied and pasted from the email I sent out to all my peeps.)

For those of you who have heard the story ad nauseum, my apologies and you can skip to the link at the bottom.

My birthday was Thursday. (33 for those of you counting.) There was a lot of build-up going into it, because Scott was tense and worrying over my present. He was really worried that I wasn't going to like it. He was so worked up about it, that I was really getting anxious with anticipation. I kept throwing out things that it could be and they got wilder and wilder. My first really wild guess was a car. Scott just laughed and said, "Yeah, I got that witht the 30,000 I've been keeping under the mattress."

My second wilder guess was a house. We've been shopping for houses extensively over the last few weeks and we're pretty fried. Scott says, "Are you just adding 0's to the ridiculousness? And another thing, just WHO do you think you're married to?"

Then, on Wednesday night I had a dream that he bought me a vineyard. Yes, you read that right -- I said vineyard. Look, I had a lot of wine the night before, and I have always loved the movie French Kiss. Well, you can only imagine just how amused he was about that. He couldn't stop laughing about it, and he seemed to be really concerned about my mental state.

All in all, my day was good. I took the day off of work and had an appointment with a psychic. I won't get in to that, because that's a whole OTHER email. I almost managed to fit into a size smaller jeans and dress size AND found a dress to wear to Scott's sister's graduation the end of this month. Spent some time shopping with Mom and then Scott and I met up with some friends at Outback for dinner.

Now, I should have guessed that something was up when the sanctity of our marriage was threatened if I even shuffled the bag the gift sat in on our kitchen table. I should have further suspected when Scott casually suggested that some of our out of town friends should come in for a Thursday night dinner.

So, we're sitting at the table in the restaurant and he presents me with the bag of gifts. The first a tiara, because every Princess needs to have her tiara. Ever since the house hunting began and my list of demands in a home grew ever longer, I have been referred to as The Princess. I hate to admit that this title is truly far more fitting than The Queen, but what're you gonna do? We all have a good laugh over the tiara and then I was directed to pull the next gift out of the bag. That was this beautiful crystal castle. The castle was sitting up on a bluff and there was a mirror below it that reflects this magnificent amount of light. I really thought it was quite awesome and was very pleased that I finally had my castle.

I assumed this was The Gift.

I was wrong.

Scott said to reach in and feel around the bottom because there was one more gift. There was a rolled up stack of photographs printed off from the computer, and the first page said, "Princess Heather's New Home -- Happy Birthday!"

It was THE house. My amazing, wonderful husband had bought me THE house for my birthday.

THE house that we had looked at two previous times that when I walked in my heart sang and danced because I knew I was home. I had found a place that we could really build our life together in and enjoy and savor. The first time we saw it, Scott didn't like it as much as I did, but after all of the red-headed step-children we saw after the first time, suddenly he was able to appreciate the beauty of the home. But, we were going through a bumpy time getting the loan end of it straight, and Scott thought it would be best if we waited to make an offer until we were SURE that it was going to work out. The next day, after our second visit, he called me at work and broke the news that the sellers had already gotten one offer and were also entertaining a second offer that they really liked. I was heartbroken, but he convinced me that we would find another house. When it was meant to be.

Sneaky, eh? Yeah, he was the second offer they liked better. Turns out, we made quite an impression on our second visit because we actually got to meet the sellers. When they received the first offer, they had their realtor call our realtor to find out if we were going to make an offer because "they really liked us and wanted us to have the house." ( Allegedly, this is an unusual occurrence in the real estate world. Sellers vying for specific buyers.)

So, Scott gave me a house for my birthday and it must have been quite a spectacle to behold. I don't even remember much because as soon as I saw the title of the photo, I began weeping uncontrollably. Non-stop sobbing that I am sure must have alarmed many of the Outback patrons, not to mention my dining companions.

And that is the story of my fairytale birthday and here is the link to the house at the REIN sight. You can't read the description without buying the pass, but the pictures are out there and I'm sure that's what most folks want to see anyways. We close on June 30th and hope to have the blender whirring for a housewarming by early fall. We'll see what develops! :)

love and kisses to all,

Heather
Link: www.hrmls.com

PS: Turns out the crystal castle was brought to me in part due to the overwhelming generosity of Scott's dad and stepmom. Special shout-out to Pops and Linda -- thanks for being such an amazing part of the day, it truly is a story to share with your grandchildren one day.

Grandchildren?! Wow, this house really is messing with my head! :)

(PS BLOGGEES: Perhaps moving into and furnishing a new house will FINALLY give me something to blog about!)

If you're happy and you know it...

Today is my 33rd birthday, and I'm giving myself a present. From today on, I am going to accept being happy -- truly, deeply happy -- when I am happy and really learn to enjoy it and appreciate it. For too long in my life, I have downplayed the happiness I frequently feel in my life because of my various self-esteem issues. But, from today on I will enjoy being happy when I am happy -- especially knowing that it's never promised.

I think many people down play their joy. They feel undeserving or they feel arrogant or they just don't want to jinx it. Too much of the good stuff goes by because I don't stop to even realize how happy I am when I am. It's so cliche'd about stopping to smell the roses, but it's true.

Because when I'm not happy, because I'm angry or sad or bored or frustrated, Lord knows that I revel in that feeling and do not act like I don't feel that way. But for some reason, I feel almost shameful in my happiness, like it's wrong for me to appreciate the wonderful gifts that I have in my life.

Clapping my hands...

I'm not going to promise that I'm going to be a faithful blogger and that I'll be true. I can't give as much to the relationship as I used to. There's only so much of me to give and there's only so many stories.

We've been house-shopping, which is frankly terrifying. In the last week, we were dating a house but it left us for a higher offer. Who could blame it?

The house wasn't great, but it had lots of potential.

Now, we've found a house that has lots more than potential, but I don't know if it's going to work out. We're trying to get our ducks in a row with the financing after our mortgage rep shit the bed, as Scott says, and don't want to make a move on a 3rd house until we get something straight on our other two. We're old-fashioned that way. :)

But, I am really praying that things work out with this house. I just love it. It is our home. I just walk in and my heart does a little dance. It's a decent size but not huge. It's cozy and the kitchen is off the hook. If it doesn't work out, I may never meet another kitchen that inspires me as much as that one.

I mean, I actually WANT to cook.

And then after I cook, I could go relax in our amazing hot tub on our 3 layer deck.

Sigh.

I'm really trying not to get my hopes up, because apparently there's another offer out there.

Someone is vying for the hand of my house.

And I can't blame them.

I hope it doesn't become the house that got away. I've had that experience before and I was so let down that I wound up settling for this house. I mean, my street name is indicative of that, for pity's sake.

Keep everything you have two of crossed and I will let you know how it turns out.

If Tyranny and Oppression come to this land, it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy.

-James Madison, fourth US president (1751-1836)

We cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home. -Edward R. Murrow,journalist (1908-1965)

One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night.

-Margaret Mead, anthropologist(1901-1978)

Kindness is not without its rocks ahead. People are apt to put it down to an easy temper and seldom recognize it as the secret striving of a generous nature; whilst, on the other hand, the ill-natured get credit for all the evil they refrain from.

-Honore De Balzac, novelist (1799-1850)

Here's something I never expected... It really makes feel weird the way people react to me losing weight. It's becoming more noticeable (I would hope so, since it's almost 40 pounds now), but it's strange how people react. Mostly as though my weight loss were some kind of statement about where they were in their own weight loss journey.

If I had had bunches of smoker friends when I severely cut back on smoking, I think I would have some expectation that this was going to happen. People feel judged because they think you are commenting on their own limitations, even though you're not. I'm not.

I know how hard it is to start fixing your bad habits. I had to get pretty far into the 2's before I realized that. I didn't want to watch my portions and I didn't want to eat more fruits and vegetables. I didn't want to bring my lunch to work every day. And I damned well didn't want to exercise.

I didn't want to change.

And I know I probably reacted to other people changing in a similar way to how people react to me. That's weird too.

There's a woman at work who was going to go with me to WW a while back and wound up changing her mind. Now whenever I go up to say hello to her, if she is eating anything she tries to explain why she's eating it. Explains why she isn't going to a meeting this week. Whatever. I don't get it. If you're not ready, you're not ready.

Even when people are happy for me, their happy comments are generally followed with, "I know, I need to do something..." Or the newly popular, "I think you're sending it my way." Come on now, is that right?

Does anyone care how hard it is to stay motivated to keep losing weight when I can't even drop a pants size??

Let me say this once -- I have lost weight, this is not a comment about you. I mean, seriously -- have you met me? Don't you know it's all about me???

another rambling post about how much Heather loves her female friendships

Had the medical issue in the house this week with Scott. Sorry to those of you who don't know the complete details, but rest assured that it is all okay and he's doing much better now.

It was surreal on many levels, but really one of the strangest things is that he chose not to share the thing with any of his friends. Obviously, he's much more private than I am -- duh, he's not publishing HIS private thoughts on the world wide web -- but still, to not need that support?? It's weird to me.

Me, I shared his private ordeal with most of my closest friends and some who don't even qualify for that title. Not because I wanted to blabber about his private life, which I certainly do feel bad about, but because I needed (as they say in the Verizon ads) "the network." I needed to know that I would have people to call on when shit went down. I needed to know that people would be there for me to talk me down from it and help me get through my feelings.

I needed the women.

I always need the women, and I do talk about this all the time and I don't care. The older I get, the more and more and more I cherish the women and love the women and appreciate how much deep female friendships have enriched my life and made me the woman I am today. If I didn't have someone holding my hand or cheering me on during the phases in my life, how can I hope to have the strength to hold their hand and cheer them on? Anyone. Women, especially "MY" women, are awesome and wonderful and fanstastic mythical beings. I just don't know what I would do without the women. To worry, to stop the worry, whatever -- they just know.

Thank you, my women -- I love you all and feel so eternally indebted to you and what you give to my life. We get sentimental and ridiculous about how much we mean to each other all the time, but it's just like any other sacred relationship -- we should cherish it and relish it because not many people are as lucky as we are to have each other.

Why I shouldn't drink wine, start my period and watch Oprah... or maybe, why I should....


Warning: This is going to be long and rambly. More so than usual.

I started my period today and I've been sleep deprived, so it's been edgier than it normally would. I decided to come home and drink some wine and watch an Oprah that's been on the tivo for a while. It's the one about the families on the debt diet. Something that I know I should do, but Lord how many diets can one person go on??

This week there was a psychologist getting behind the psychological reasons that these families got themselves into so much trouble. The second family really hit home with me. The mom spoils the daughters and gives them everything they want. The psychologist Dr. Laura Smith says that this is actually abusive because by not setting boundaries for our children, then we are laying the groundwork for consequences that are putting our lives at risk. Not our physical lives, necessarily, but our future because we are facing a future of debt. Oprah says the mom is living unconciously because she doesn't realize that she is walking through life and not really thinking about the consequences of her actions.

The woman says that she just wants to do right by her kids and give them everything. Dr. Laura and Oprah try to get her to see that there are consequences to these actions, but the woman has a hard time seeing it because her parents did it for her. And what she's going through now, they say to her, IS the consequences. Dr. Laura says we do not need to raise any more young girls who are looking for jeans and clothes and men to fill their spiritual void.

And bam -- epiphany.

Everyone knows I was married before to a man I met when I was 18 who was emotionally (and sometimes otherwise) abusive to me. When I left home and then the state to be with this man, no one understood why. I was a good girl and a had the whole world in front of me and I threw it all away. Frankly, I never really understood why I did what I did. But, now I think about how spoiled I was when I was growing up. Just about anything that I wanted, I got. I had some boundaries, but not when it came to getting stuff. Because when my parents, especially my mother, were growing up their parents were poor and couldn't really give them much and they didn't want me to grow up like that. They wanted to give me what they didn't have. But as a result, I didn't know that there were consequences to them giving me whatever I wanted. By the time I realized it, it was too late. They had filed for bankruptcy and I was long on the road to being involved in this bad relationship.

I am not blaming my parents for what happened. It was their intention to give me good life and not make me "want" for anything. But, the fact is that as a result of that, I was constantly looking for something to fill that void. And as soon as I thought I found it, I jumped in head first. And when that relationship was lacking, I was so completely lacking in self-worth that I didn't think I deserved to be out of it. The consequences.

It's interesting to think that by giving our kids everything they want, that really we are creating them to only want more and never be satisfied. Never be full.

Yes, I know I don't have kids and maybe it's not right for me to preach about that. But, I do know that I have had an eye-opening experience and if I ever do have kids, I hope I keep this knowledge...

It's a funny thing about watching the Oprah and drinking the wine and all that. It always gets me thinking and wrapped up in my evolution as a person. One of the downsides of the evolution is that while I can still talk funny, I have a hard time writing funny anymore. I'm back to the days when writing was a haven for me and made me more reflective and made me really think about things that have happened and how they affect me and the people around me. It's a shame that this writing has become public, but that was my choice.

Oprah fucks with my head, but definitely in a good way.

Anyways, I though this would be longer but my current spiritual crisis is involving laundry and that's gotta be done. If I didn't have to do laundry, I could rule the world.

Fun quote from Rita Rudner: "I love being married. It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life."

Happy Friday, all!

Lori: tried to post the answers to the how boyish are you quiz and wouldn't copy over to blogspot. Bummer, but I got 60/40 boyish.

This week in Fat Church

Wow. Fat Church was off the hook this week. There were tears shed and the emotions were flying high. We always dance around the discussion of the emotional side of our weight gain, but really got into it full on when one of the members asked our leader, "why do I keep doing the things that I do?"

This led to a discussion of how difficult it can be for some people to be seen in a new, thinner light. They're not used to the attention and it makes them uncomfortable. Our leader shared a story about a woman who had lost 75 pounds and still had more to lose, but then started putting the weight back on. She finally confessed in a meeting that she didn't like people noticing her, it made her uncomfortable. A woman in our meeting tonight confessed that she felt guilty about the weight that she had lost because of her family being overweight. When she's with them, she eats because she feels ashamed.

I can relate to this more than people would believe about me. Sure, I'm an attention hog and like to stir things up. But, the truth is that I only like the attention I ask for, and when I don't want anyone to notice me then I shut down the Heather Show. And for a long time, when I was 35 pounds heavier, it was really easy to turn that off because I was invisible. No one notices you when you are overweight. People just don't see you. And you don't get the same "perks" that thinner people get.

I resent that. People come up to me now and will comment on how much weight I've lost and all that, and it is great that they are doing that. It is nice that people are noticing a difference, but it's also weird. Unless you have ever lost a significant amount of weight, you just cannot understand what it's like to have people look at you in the before and after.

And really, I couldn't understand what it was like to see myself in the before and after. Because even though I know that I am the same person that I was last August when I started doing Weight Watchers, I'm really not. I'm a better version of that person. Not because I'm thinner, being thinner doesn't make me a better person. But it's the dedication to improving my lifestyle that is the change.

Another woman tonight talked about all of the various times that she had lost big amounts of weight. She said that one of the more successful times, she really took the time to get to know who she was along the way. She knew who she was 20 pounds lighter, 30 pounds lighter and so on. And I'm learning that, too. I know what I can do, and what I am capable of and how much more I know I will be able to do.

I really need to take some pictures. Because I keep thinking that if I already think that I look pretty good now, and I'm less than halfway there... How good am I going to think I look when I get down to my goal weight?

And I'm really not sure what my goal weight is anymore. Because we have a range that we can be in and while it's easy to focus on being at the higher end of the range, I don't know if Future Heather is going to be satisfied with taking the easy way out. So, I'm going to let her decide what to do when I get closer. I have a lot of confidence in Future Heather and I can't wait to meet her!

Sorry, I always get preachy after going to Church. :)

quotes

Many people that know me know that I collect quotes.

If you didn't know, I do and would love to have you send me some.

My email address is the queen lee at g mail dot com -- not going to include the actual link for obvious reasons.

Here's one I stumbled across that I LOVE:

You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do. -Anne Lamott, writer(1954- )

grrrr

Okay, I'm mad. I've never really been one to get my dander up over the politics of the nation. Some of my good friends have lived overseas and have long gone on about how much America is hated and how greedy, nasty, awful we are, etc. And frankly, I was always a bit blase about the whole thing. Yeah, we suck -- so what?

But, this is getting ridiculous.

Have you heard about Senator Russ Feingold? I'm telling you right now that I am sincerely hoping this is the man running for '08. He is calling for the censure of President Bush because of the illegal wire tapping that Bush has authorized without approval. On American citizens.

I know that if you don't watch Fox news you know a bunch about this already.

I won't bore you with the details.

The fact is that it is disgusting. But then it gets worse. Sen. Wayne Allard from CO basically accused Sen. Feingold of consorting with terrorists because of the call for censure.

I'm sorry but if you disagree with the government that makes you a terrorist??

Does that mean that when Clinton was in office and all of the Republicans disagreed with him that THEY were terrorists??

There is no clear, concise way for me to express just how morally outraged and disgusted I am by this entire administration. When is it going to end? When is SOMEONE going to say that this arrogant, lying, candy-assed pig has gone too far???

And we live in a country of people who overwhelming voted him into office. AGAIN. How is that possible? When did American people stop caring about what it means to be American?

I have heard this time and time again and I fully agree that terrorism is the new Communism. It's the latest accusation you can throw on someone in order to sully their reputation. But, terrorism is even scarier because we saw EXACTLY what terrorists are made of on 9/11. Keep the fear going, keep the people feeding on the fear and as long as they are afraid then they will do whatever you say.

The people will go along with your ignoring the poor people in New Orleans when the levees are about the break. The people will allow you to continue on a path to financial ruin to continue a war that doesn't make sense. The people will let you listen to their private phone calls and conversations because you might be a terrorist.

It's outrageous. And we're just fucking lying down. Lying down and letting it happen.

Go to moveon.org, people. Sign the petition to have Bush censored. Or call your Senator and tell them you support this. Do something, stop lying down.

I'm telling you that if you don't respect your own rights, no one will.

Si-moan Graduates


This week I graduated from my strippercize class.

Over the course of 5 classes, I learned how to do a lap dance for my boy. (Or, technically, to anyone's boy I suppose, but not sure how Scott would feel abou that.) The last two classes are strictly devoted to learning a routine to a song (Darling Nikki).

Last week, I tried to practice one night when I had some alone time but shortly into my practice session the doorbell rang and it scared the crap out of me so bad that I couldn't practice anymore. I felt like a kid getting caught masturbating... Which, may have been because I think I was at that part of the routine, but whatever.

So, we continue to perfect the routine on Thursday night and I even got my own demonstration from the instructor. Wow. I was supposed to be paying attention and learning the moves, but when the moves were actually up on me it was pretty hard. That night, we were admonished to practice like 20 times before we actually showed off.

Needless to say, the whole waiting to do things has never really been a strong suit for me.

I came home and Scott was fully expecting to get the show that night. Even sent his friend home before I got there, and that was huge. I was kind of tired and sore, but one look at him and I knew that it was destined to be game on. So, I got showered and cleaned up and put on my costume for the show.

Meanwhile, he's looking for scarved to put over the lamp downstairs and trying to get the mood all right. I come down and start the show as the song starts to play.

Of course, I messed up a few parts, but since he didn't know the choreographing behind it had no idea and really seemed not to care. And then, midway through I -- in TRUE Heather fashion -- managed to pull my calf muscle. And this was right before a part where I had to put my legs up in his lap and grind in the air. (You think reading it sounds incredible, try actually doing it. Then trying doing it without laughing or screaming in pain.) Anyways, I made it through without messing it up too much and my money shot was... Well, it was on the money!

[Definition of "money shot" to the uninitiated: In stripper-ese, the money shot involves getting down on your knees and putting your ass straight up into the air while the front half of your body is almost flat on the floor. When done correctly it is grossly obscene and quite painful. If you have an occasion to be in a strip club and you see a stripper performing this, please pay her well -- it ain't easy being that sleazy.]

All in all, it was quite worth it. As much money as that class was, I now have something in my bag of tricks that I can pull out and perform whenever things need to be stirred up.

My fellow dancers will be signing up again for Round 2, but I'm not sure I have it in me. I couldn't walk straight the next day and was definitely hurting all over.

And that wasn't even from the dance routine... ;-)

mmm... let's give them nothing to talk about...

This is one of most favorite ironic things to talk about -- the fact that there's nothing to talk about. The Librarian and I have been talking ad nauseum this week about how there's nothing to talk about. A fact she's been dying to talk to me about.

With all of this talking, how can there not be any talking??

But, it's the same with the bloggins, so feel free to interchange the words if you care to know why it's been a year since I last posted.

Now that she and I are in the early, no kid years of our marriages, we have no drama. There is nothing to talk about. He's going to call, he's going to email, he already proposed, but he still won't put the bag in the trashcan when he takes out the trash -- if he takes out the trash. But, really, how much can you talk about that?

Sunshine is pouring out of my ass and I'm watching way too much tv and whatever -- there is nothing to talk about. I really think this is why I may be a better listener than I ever used to be -- I'm not constantly trying to interrupt with my own stories. I don't have any stories.

I firmly believe that people get bored with all of the lack of drama and decide to have the kids in order to spice it up. Once you have the kids, you will NEVER run out of things to talk about. Money and food and sanity -- yes, you'll run out of that, but who cares about that as long as you have conversational fodder?!

I often wonder if I'm strong enough to ride out the lack of drama and really stick to my "no kids" thing. Because no matter how many times many of you tell me I want/need/should have the kids, I really do not feel a yearning. The Librarian (who needs a new nickname -- how about KSquare? Kind of like K Fed. SHUT UP!) says if I don't want to have the kids, I shouldn't have the kids and really I should just shut up about it. (Okay, I'm not sure if she said the shut up about it part, but she doesn't have her own blog so whatever.)

But, it's on my mind because I feel like it should be, and I know that Scott wants them and I know how left out I'm going to feel when all of my kids have the kids and I don't and then what a slave to peer pressure I am because Lord knows I don't have time to go out and make new friends or I would have done that already...

Hey, at least it gives me something to talk about!

So, what do people in mostly happy, normal (well, normal for us) relationships talk about before they have the kids? TV? Books? Other people's kids? I really can't picture myself getting upset because Malcolm didn't get into the right preschool -- so, he'll have to eat paste at home, what IS the big deal?

Anyways, when my Strippercize class debuts their routine on the catwalk of JB's, THEN I'll have something to talk about...

life lessons by heather

1. Parkinson's is not sexy. We did a LOT of leg work in strippercize tonight and when I tried to walk out to my car, I looked like a younger, blonder, yet shakier Katherine Hepburn.

2. When you do little things to try to make your life easier, it only makes it harder than it was before you made it easier. Simple case in point: I moved my gum to its own little house in my purse and now I can't remember that it's there so it takes me twice as long to find my gum. I know -- would that all of our problems were this big.

3. When you lose weight, it doesn't happen all over your body at the same time. So, now while my torso is getting smaller, my ass is still huge and looks like someone grabbed it and their hand prints stayed.

4. Do not think that you will only read "one chapter" when you are more than halfway through the book. It's not like books usually get worse at this point and then you're an hour and a half past your bedtime.

5. Do not piss off your boss after she just got her ass chewed by her boss. You will wind up with 3 times the work load to start off your day than what you thought.

6. You never get tired of people asking you if you lost weight, so keep wearing your baggy clothes long after it's appropriate. When they fall off when walking, downsize and start over.

7. You will never feel sexy (ooops, sexxxy) if you eat anything gassy before going to stripper class -- or oddly enough, if you put gas in your car before arriving. Putting gas in and letting it out are both equally unsexy.

8. Drinking 4 shots before starting the class helps alleviate this a lot.

9. You should always appreciate how easy it is to lift your hairdryer, you never know when this will become a difficult task.

10. And finally... Do not tell your man you are taking a stripper class because he will want you to come home and rubup-up, rubup-up, rubup-up on his ding dong and all you want to do is eat some ding dongs.

Less than 2

Tonight was a monumental night. I hit the 30 pound mark in weight loss and that means that I went below that ugly number that started with a 2.

You know, you never think you're going to get to a point in your life where your weight will start with a 2, much less that far into it. I know I did not. The worst part is that I did not immediately make a change once it got that far. I was in denial. I thought if I told myself enough times that I was happy and healthy that it would be okay. I would do something about it one day. But, one day didn't come until more than a year later...

And even though I did not have anything medically wrong with me at my high weight, I know that couldn't have lasted. But, the best part is that I feel so much better all of the time. I have so much more energy, I feel so much more engaged. Even when I do have days where I still feel lacking in confidence, they don't seem to take me to the same down in the dumps level that I used to get to before. The point where I was just feeling worthless. I mean truly worthless. Being overweight sucks, but particularly when our society values youth and beauty as much as it does.

Take for example the Strippercize class. A friend emailed me after she read that I was taking the class, expressing her envy that I was taking the class and how hard she thought it would be to be that sexy. (Sorry for the paraphrase, J.) And this is a friend that pretty much has the market cornered on sexy, so that's saying a lot. She talked about what she would dance to and would she wind up looking hot and said that yes, she does think about these things and presumes I must too because I'm taking the class.

Actually, I'm taking the class because another friend asked me to join with her. I'm taking the class because Scott said it would benefit the whole family. I'm taking the class because I was feeling a little arrogant about the level of my physical fitness since I started walking 30 minutes a day. That last one really cracks me up, because really you would think I was ready to run a marathon the way I talk about my 30 minutes walking daily. But, for me? 30 minutes 5 days a week?

I mean, have you met me??

Anyways, because I had to go through Stripper Special Ed, I wasn't feeling overly confident about myself. I was definitely the biggest girl in the class, and unfortunately for the girl behind me, I was probably the only girl with gas in the class. (Sorry Star, Moon, Flower, whoever you were.) But, the thing is that in the past that kind of blow to my ego would have been impossible for me to get over. I might not have even wanted to go back to the class again, despite shelling out the money in advance to go.

But, I'm trying not to be that girl anymore. I want to be the confident girl. And part of that is going to involve taking chances and taking risks that aren't always going to work out.

So, I lost the 2 and now it's down to 1. Me. And the never ending journey to discovery and more blog fodder.

happy valentine's day oh favorite people of mine

I was perusing VideoDog at Salon.com. (That's here. ) And there was this movie short called Are you the favorite person of anybody? This was sort of interesting.

If you don't want to watch it, basically the guy is conducting a survey and asks, "Are you the favorite person of anybody?" And then has the confused person rate the certainty of their answers on a scale of very certain, pretty certain, i think so, maybe, not certain at all.

It made me think -- am I the favorite person of anybody? I mean, I would say there are plenty of people who like me and a handful of them would even go so far as to say I would be one of their favorites -- but the favorite? That's a lot of pressure. If you say one person is your favorite, then that discounts all of the other people. That's why even at the ripe old age of 32 I can't commit to having just one best friend and have two instead. Which basically disqualifies the whole notion of best, huh?

The obvious answer (particularly on this day of mush and gush) is my husband is my favorite person. And even though it really is true, how cliche'd is that?

And then how much pressure to be someone's FAVORITE person? I mean, who could live up to that? Everyone has bad days and gets gas and gets cranky and whatever. Does the bad stuff exist in your favorite people? Do you only see your favorite people once a decade (I was going to say millenium but I'm trying to cut down on my "dramaticism") and that's how they remain your favorites? How much contact do you have with favorite people? Can they keep the momentum going or do you change the favorite status from time to time?

What makes someone your FAVORITE person?

I'm deciding that I'm against this favorite person thing. Too much pressure to put on one person. Perhaps favorite people by category, I can live with that. "Favorite Friend in a Dramatic Role." "Favorite Friend to Coerce You into Smoking when you swore you quit." "Favorite Relative -- local." "Favorite Husband." "Favorite Boss."

Yeah. Be someone's Favorite in a category and continue to strive for mediocrity!

Question?

Why is that I feel guilty when I go off and do things without Scott despite the fact that when I am home and we are in the same house together hanging out he largely plays video games or watches tv?

It's not like we are creating some intimate environment of togetherness when we are here at the same time, so why not go out and play sometimes without the guilt?

Not sure.

The Week in Heather Review

Last week was very strange.

Started out with me not getting the promotion that I had applied for and had that lame interview that I wrote about. I was disappointed but didn't realize how much so until I called Scott and got teary about it -- while on the treadmill, which is a weird combination to begin with. He was so great, I remembered why I married him all over again. Kept telling me how proud of me he was for trying to apply and all that. And then he sent me flowers that same day, which is pretty amazing since it was about 3:00 when I talked to him and they got there by 4:30. This beautiful little arrangement with a card that simply said, "I Still Believe." Aww, then I was REALLY gonna cry. :)

Already had a sushi date planned with a friend which was a wonderful pick-me-up. I love sushi and we went to my favorite place in town where the guy claims he is the Eel King. Which is awesome because I love eel! Good times.

Tuesday night was my Statistics class and I may have finally found a class "buddy" which is what always makes my classes go by so much better. I don't always find one and it makes me feel so strange.

Wednesday night was Weight Watchers and finally started going back down again. I say finally like I had been climbing up but I was (and still am) at the turning point of a big number that I really want to go under, if only I would stop sabotaging myself right before I'm about to drop below it!

Thursday night was stripper-cize. Yup, strippercize. That really should be a blog unto itself. My dancer name (which I hope is not supposed to be super top secret) is SiMoan, which I get a kick out of. And I had fun, but also realized (again) that I am fairly retarded when it comes to being sexy. Sorry, sexxxy. I reach in to tap into my super sexy self and get nothing. So, I had to have stripper special ed because I couldn't get the walk right, couldn't even spin in a circle right and definitely couldn't grind all the way down to a "one" position. In fact, I had to stay in three the whole time.

The instructors are actually former dancers from this area and they are extremely wonderful and supportive. The hallway leading up to the dance studio is literally vagina pink and there are notes all over the walls from past graduates gushing about how grateful they are for being shown their sexiness. Hope this happens to me. Then, the studio itself is lit by blacklights and there are a few poles dispensed throughout. Yup, those kinds of poles. We learn that on our third lesson.

Anyone that wants more info about the class, let me know because it is definitely a great work out and lots of fun -- but hard! I am still experiencing a large amount of pain in what I have recently learned is where my quads are.

Then last night I hung out with my friend Debbie and we drank too much and laughed a lot and that was awesome. We went to a frou-frou martini bar called Fresh and then went to a more low key Mexican place near by called Guadalara. Good times, but I have feeling that it's going to show up in a bad way on the scale on Wednesday night.

And now, this morning I am headed for a facial. Yay! I've been wanting one for a long time and can't wait to see what they excavate from my pores! OH, there's where the Lindbergh baby has been...

Hugs to all -- sorry it's taken me so long to do a catchup.

Have you called your mother today?

Okay, I haven't called mine but that's because, duh, she can't hear. (For those of you who did not know that, it's lost its sadness over time so there is no need to go "awwww...") But, I did get the guilt trip last night for how infrequently she sees me.

It started out innocently enough. She asked if I had gotten the promotion I applied for at work. I said that I still had not heard anything and that she definitely would have heard from me if I had. And she said that no, not necessarily because... Why IS it that she only sees me 45 minutes a week?

I really hate getting caught in my bullshit. It's such a bad feeling, isn't it?

Immediately, the excuses bubble up and that just makes me feel worse. I know that I really am all that she has, that's really not a complete guilt trip -- it's just a fact. I believe that she decided it was going to be that way, but it still is what it is. After Dad died, lots of people were calling and asking about her and would have gladly started hanging out with her, but she didn't want to. She was very emphatic about it. So, now I am her main source of any kind of socializing.

NO pressure!

I think about other people that I know and their relationships with their mothers. I know I see my mom more regularly than a lot of people I know simply because I live in the same state and the same town. And no, I don't spend tons of time with her, but I wouldn't say that I have tons of time to give.

Oy, more excuses. So, to make it worse, when I got home from my too long Statistics class last night, I had an email from her basically telling me to disregard our conversation because it was pitiful for her to ask me to spend more time with her when I apparently didn't want to spend more time with her than I already was. (Hmm, Mom you have a little passive aggressive on your chin there, you might want to get that...)

I mean, seriously...? You're going to go there and then finish by saying you didn't want me to feel guilty. Riiiight.

Yes, I know I should spend more time, okay? But, her house is boring -- it's an antiques store and there is no tv for public consumption. NONE. We have to sit and talk the entire visit. How much is there to say? What new topics can be explored when my life changes so little from day to day??

I'm frustrated with her... And I am still running the roll in my head of my friends and their relationships with their mothers. Doesn't see regularly, doesn't see regularly, doesn't talk to, doesn't talk to much, tries to get away with three visits a year, and so on. And the last one was my own father!!

So, have you called your mother today? Because she's not going to be around forever you know and one day you'll be sorry...

Oy.

First They Came for the Jews

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak outbecause I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak outbecause I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak outbecause I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.

Pastor Martin Niemöller


I've been thinking about this a lot lately. We live in a country where our president thinks it's okay to eavesdrop on you if you belong to a group of people who meet and speak freely about your disagreements with American policies, just because you happen to be of Muslim faith.

We live in a country where Brokeback Mountain is in the top 10 in the movie theaters, just won a Golden Globe -- and yet our Congress is trying to pass a Constitutional Amendment stating that a marriage is between a man and a woman.

We live in a country where our President goes to war for one reason, claims a victory that didn't happen and then changes the reason for continuing the war and the American people just blindly go along with it.

The rich are getting richer, the poor are getting poorer and people who's homes washed away with the hurricanes are ignored because they're poor.

And no one really seems to care. Because, they're Christian and heterosexual and reasonably affluent so it's not affecting them.

Well, when it does affect you, who's going to care about speaking up for you? There won't be anyone left.

And I can type away at my blog soapbox while watching all of my guilty pleasure tv, and what have I done?

First they came for the Muslims...

Lame Interviews and Fat Church

I interviewed for an internal promotion today. It's a teeny step and not even something I'm honestly sure I wanted, but... I was ridiculously nervous during the interview. Ridiculous. I could not think of the answers to anything and really think I blew it. This makes me think that if/when we do move to Charlotte, I'm afraid that Scott is going to have to get some amazing job because I don't want to interview for another job ever again.

Think of a time it was critical that you understood someone. What? I'm not a General, I'm not handling bombs, what kind of situation could come up that is critical that I understood someone? And I just gave the lamest answers. I just wanted to crawl under the table or better yet just leave. Yup, that's all I've got folks. There are no good answers in here. My job is not critical. And the other questions were equally as generic and yet almost life or death related. (Not that I can remember them because my brain has been erased by the stress and then relief that at least it's over with.) Sigh.

It's one thing to think you don't interview well, it's another to know.

And then I went to Fat Church, which is only what I call it in my head as we are not allowed to use the F-word at Weight Watchers. I realized on the way home that I haven't really written about how that's going in a while, which is funny to me for some reason. (A lot of things are funny to me for some reason, most of which generally are not funny to other people.) When I wrote the highlights of 2004, I had a hard time finding posts that weren't about losing weight. I bet you're thinking that I haven't been doing it, that I fell off the wagon. But, that's not true. It's really just that it's become part of my life, part of my routine. So, I'm still losing weight (down 27 pounds), and I'm happy about it but I try not to be so focused on it in my conversation all the time...

Not that I'm always successful. See, Weight Watchers has become my church and I guess that makes the scale my demi-god that I pray in front of weekly. I make sacrifices for my "god" and I try to live a life that my god would approve of. The meeting leader is life the preacher and she gives sermons and words that we are to live by. I feel uplifted when I leave and ready to stay on track. The people all have similar belief systems and some of them are more strident in their beliefs than others. We offer each other strength and encouragement. We spread the word to "outsiders" and try to get new members. It IS Fat Church and I really do love it. Because, how can I not? 27 pounds is a lot of weight to put down and I have a ways to go but don't even feel discouraged or scared by that because I know it's going to be okay.

word of the day

From one of our most favorite guilty pleasure shows, Beauty and the Geek, this word comes from one of the beauties. I don't remember the exact quote, but it was something like she has over 200 pairs of shoes and handbags and whenever she sees a pair of shoes she really likes she has a shoegasm.

shoegasm: n.

1. The peak of shoe excitement, characterized by strong feelings of pleasure and by a series of involuntary squeals in an octave range not normally found in humans, usually accompanied by the exchange of cash for footwear.

Why is it that I have to look up the correct spelling for questionnaire every time I write the word and that I can't remember my own mother's zip code, but I find quirky words and phrases and they just stick to the roof of my brain like peanut butter??

And what is up with this peanut butter craving I have had going on?

That's another blog, but no -- I'm not.

bloggedy blog

School started tonight. Statistics class and then my Soc 202 class online.

I think I'm going to like Stats. It was wordy. I like words.

I really hate it when I blog just to blog...

It's just really not me but here we are again. My life, while not perfect, is pretty good. I mean, what is there to talk about?

I'm not dating, I'm not confused about where my life is going -- stick a fork in me, I'm done.

Well, not done per se. I'm just saying don't give me a bunch of crap if there isn't a post every 3 hours here. It would throw you into a coma. ("Went to work, ate 18 points, trying to figure out what to eat for dinner on 8 points. Walked one mile. Watched 16 hours of Lost in 2 sittings.")

I LOVE being married to Scott, things are going great. Now. But, the fact is that we're not always shining sunshine out of our ass, but I don't talk about that stuff. Why? NO ONE TALKS ABOUT THAT STUFF, YOU MORON. It's part of the cult. I'm probably never going to talk about the ins and outs of it in detail. Why? Frankly, it's dull. We watch a lot of tv together, we giggle about stuff only we find funny, we flirt, we watch more tv, we sleep, we eat, we fart, whatever. It's your life being watched by someone else.

I have been wanting to go off on a whole marriage thing, actually. I know someone that got engaged to someone that... Well, she's engaged, she says she's happy. Less than 48 hours before it happened, she was crying in my house about this guy, but now she's happy. Ooookay. What can I do? What can I say? I said congratulations. Did I mean it?

I don't know.

I stayed up not long before that until almost when the sun came up (or was the sun coming up??) listening to all of the dark sides of this relationship without having any prior knowledge and all of the rationalization for the behavior. And now, you've got a ring and everything's great? Are you serious?

Sorry. Sorry. But, it bothers me to watch people make mistakes I made in the past.

So, here's my thing. Do not marry anyone ever for the sake of being married. Marriage itself with the wrong person sucks. Because you are trapped every waking moment (not at work/school/whatever you can do to get out of the house) with the same person. That is a lot of time. Plus, you sleep next to them. Which means any of their weird sleep stuff is going to affect you. Don't get married because you want to cross that off your list. Simply because your biological clock is ticking. Because you don't want to face dating in your 30's.

Trust me, dating in your 30's is far superior to being married to the wrong person.

How do you know if it's the wrong person? Honestly, I think that if you are rationalizing behavior and rationalizing your reaction to being verbally abused -- that doesn't seem like the right person.

I got lucky. I did. Scott is it for me. He is the gin in my vermouth, he is my peanut butter, and all of the other mushy comparisons. Did I have doubts? Well, yes, I did. But, I go back to the core of the man and how happy I am with this man and there can never be any other. When we are together, we are like ridiculous five year old kids. Laughing and giggling and just generally being a little stupid. It's not grown up, it's not "mature" and it's not for everyone. But I know it's for me and I know that there's nothing else.

Check your gut. Your gut knows, even when you don't want to believe what it says.

Can you tell I've over-indulged in wine for the first time in a while? :)


xoxo

hpl

Our Lost Weekend

I started the weekend with so many good intentions, but then something happened. We got lost.

No, I mean "Lost," the ABC show about the castaways.

We tried to watch it last season, but with the creature in the forest and the show always ending just when you were about to find out what was going on, we were a little over it. People kept talking about it, there was lots of buzz but by then it was a little late. There was so much to catch up on and not enough time.

But, this season, Scott started watching it again. And because it was on, I would catch up on an episode here or there. I was pretty interested, though still a bit put off by the cheese factor. So, I asked him to use his alternative means to procure the first season.

And that's where my weekend went. From Thursday night on, we have been huddled around Scott's computer watching season one. We barely moved except to get water or pee and then when we had to forage for food.

There are a lot of reasons that I got so sucked in, but I really do think that when you watch any tv show without any commercials and without having to wait for the next week for the resolution to the cliffhanger -- your viewing experience is substantially improved. I have a friend who is just as addicted to Smallville as we are, but she won't watch the show during the "regular" season because she can't stand to wait to see what's going to happen. She just waits for the season to come out on dvd.

I somewhat agree, but having to wait week to week isn't as bad as having to wait a year.

Anyways, back to "Lost."

I have a feeling that many of you regular readers (ha!) are either in one of two categories: already watching the show or have no time or energy to watch the show. Therefore, I won't go into the whole background of the show. Because, here's the reason that I like it -- it's the background stories of the characters compared to their current lives on the island. You get to see their motivations, which is something you don't get in real life. Understanding people's motivations is one of my own passion's. If I can understand why you do what you do, then maybe I can learn to understand your actions and not judge who you are.

Still, it makes you wonder why they don't just share their stories, what have they got to lose now? Well, there wouldn't be any drama, duh!

So, I have a new crack addiction. I wish there was more to watch, but there's just a few episodes this season to catch up on and then we're like regular people again.

Well, as regular as we get. :)

2005 ends, 2006 begins

I thought I would start off the new year by pulling some of my favorite stuff from my blog this year.

Might as well start off by completely indulging in my known vanity and love for myself, eh?

I tried to narrow it down to some of my favorite blurbs from each month...

From 1/29/05: Funny Thing Happened at the Baby Viewing

So, I ask one of the wives if she and her husband are getting ready to have kids (because this is apparently what you do now) and she said to me (and I am NOT making this up), "Well, we got married, and we bought a house, and so it's the natural next step. I mean, we even have the dog."Are you friggin' kidding me?? I beg you to tell me that you are, I wanted to say. But, instead, I just laughed politely and tried to change the subject. You see, I didn't realize there was an order to these things. That there was a law that once you got married and bought a house, that if you then got a dog then :::BING::: you were trained for parenthood.

From 2/6/05: Later on in the week, I got into a heated discussion with a customer about his bill. I tried to explain his billing to him, and how he hadn't even made a payment on the item he was claiming to have been overcharged for. When I explained this to him, he said he understood what I was saying but still didn't believe me. Asked to speak to my manager, who had already been listening to the call. He then proceeded to tell my manager that I had called the man a cracker. That's right -- a cracker. Apparently, the fact that I am also a "cracker" had somehow escaped his notice.

From 2/23/05: I wish I knew what happened to Arnold. I'm worried about him. Do you wonder how much he thinks about that? Do you wonder how something like that changed his life? To always suspect that people think you're a little weird is one thing, to have them affirm it by covering you in duct tape and throwing you in a dumpster. Well, that's just something else, isn't it?

From 3/29/05: Smug Marrieds

I hate the unwritten rule that newlyweds are never allowed to talk about stuff like that --their lives are now supposed to be perfect because guess what you won the lottery--you're married! You and Scott give me hope for the smug marrieds.

So, because we are not spouting sunshine from our asses, THIS is giving hope to the singletons?

From 4/5/05: Becoming friends with someone is truly like dating. You have all the get to know you crap and then it's time to decide if you're going to show them your dustbunnies and your bongs or what. And, just like dating, when you have that bad experience with the friend who is just not that in to you, it's hard to get back in the saddle and start cultivating new friendships. Because who has time for all that work??

From 5/24/05: The wonderful thing about PMS is that you really can't believe that you are ever going to feel happy or joyous ever again. It's just this chronic state of crankiness that doesn't seem to dissipate and is made ALL the better by my beloved husband who insists that I am only not cranky about 5 days a month anyways.

From 6/25/05: Have you ever hung out with another couple and while you were driving home, compared their relationship to yours? Or just talked abouot some of the "odd things" you saw in the other couple? Did you ever wonder if they were doing the same thing to you? Did you ever wonder if their fighting was just for show? Or did you think it sure seems like they never fight? Are they this happy all the time? Why DON'T they get a room??

From 7/29/05: heard on the radio this morning

"This report was sponsored by Heritage for the Blind. Don't sell that old car, donate it to Heritage for the Blind..."

I'm sorry, but what are blind people going to do with my car? I'm a little disturbed by that.

Should I donate my old stereo to the deaf foundation??

From 8/11/05: Wow, I'm so deep in my shallowness now that my fingers would have gotten pruney -- if it weren't so shallow that is.

From 9/6/05: (This is much how you feel after you give him a really good show in bed and then he falls asleep right at your curtain call. If you do not understand this reference, then you are a lucky woman.)

From 10/3/05: You know how you're trying to remember something and you try so hard to remember it that then you can't remember why you wanted to remember it?? Yeah. Me too.

From 11/9/05: It's funny the little things we think we want. The things that entice us and attract us and that we think will fulfill and complete us. The bottomless cup you keep on filling again and again.

From 12/23/05: It's this sheer total happy feeling that just takes over and makes everything really shiny and bright. Where everyone is great and you love them and can't imagine ever feeling unhappy again? There's a sense of triumph over the unhappy phase, like HA! I beat that and look how bad I am. 12/23/05

VACATION

I will be off of work this entire week. My big plans mostly involve doing nothing. Zero, zippo, nada.

I have not had a do-nothing vacation in a long time. Not a whole week's worth anyways. Usually a three day weekend here or there, which generally isn't enough to do all of the nothing you want to accomplish anyways.

My plan is to finally get to the bottom of the laundry and clean our bedroom.

I'm hoping to do that today, but I have also met me so I'm not holding my breath.

That means that I will have more time to blog! Yay!

So, if you need me, I'm here. Mostly plan free! You can write, call, whatever.

Because I have a whole lot of nothing going on in here!

Merry Christmas one and all!

Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.— Oren Arnold

I feel like a million bucks!

I feel crazy happy these days -- this is the part of the hormone cycle that I LOVE! That almost makes up for the PMS part.

It's this sheer total happy feeling that just takes over and makes everything really shiny and bright. Where everyone is great and you love them and can't imagine ever feeling unhappy again? There's a sense of triumph over the unhappy phase, like HA! I beat that and look how bad I am.

It's Christmas and the promise of the New Year and losing 25 lbs and being with Scott and all of my friends being happy and on and on!! It's like the Tigger in your heart is God.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Are you guys really THAT pissed off that I am wishing you happy holidays rather than Merry Christmas?

What if you really are against Christmas, like Scott's best friend?

What if you are Jewish?

What if you are any of the other many religions that do not celebrate Christmas?

I think we have gone overboard in the other direction, yes. How offended are you really if I wish you Merry Christmas but you don't celebrate that holiday? It's not like I called your mom a whore or something, I'm just wishing you well. Hoping you enjoy the paid day off. Whatever. If you don't celebrate it, ignore the well wishes and assume that I was not deliberately trying to assume you are Christian or that you celebrate the holiday.

When did we get so fucking sensitive? I mean, we can't be too worried that the liberal media is taking over the holidays (this is one of the spins I have heard) because W got back in. I think we know just how separate the church and the state really are.

Because, if you are uncertain on this agenda, ask your gay friends when they're going to get married.

And on that note, MERRY FRIGGIN' CHRISTMAS and Happy New Year!

(Hope I didn't offend any Chinese people by not recognizing when THEIR year begins...)

Found this Quiz on Lori's blog

It's the Belief-o-Matic, which uses a personality test (of sorts) to help gauge what your religious affiliation is or should be. I was more than a little surprised to find out what my most suitable fit was... (followed by the rest of the Top 10)



1. Liberal Quakers (100%)
2. Unitarian Universalism (97%)
3. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestans (80%)
4. Reform Judaism (79%)
5. Neo-Pagan (79%)
6. Securlar Humanism (75%)
7. Mahayana Buddhism (74%)
8. New Age (71%)
9. New Thought (68%)
10. Taoism (67%)

Um, Quakerism? Hm.

Julia's begging for a blog and I know I need to put one out there, but I am still super-tired and recuperating from this weekend. I will try again tomorrow. Promise!

Silly things I should not be allowed to do

I should not be allowed to go shopping for things to put on my body when I am having a bad hair or bad face day. This goes double when I am having both at the same time.

I need to buy a necklace to go with my Christmas party dress, because the other 30 in my collection just aren't riiiight. So, I attempt to do this yesterday with my hair "artfully" up in bobby pins (I really dislike you Tina for showing me this can be done)... Needless to say, my hair is against being artfully up at all and the bobby pins started shooting out almost as soon as I got in the car. To top it all off, I had a blush incident that left me looking like a bad case of rosacea had come to live on my face. Did I buy jewelry? No.

Did the urge to buy things leave me?

No.

So, I went to Michael's where ALL I was going to buy was some poinsettias to put in the Christmas tree. But, they had these wreaths and this gawdy shiny stuff and $50 later, I was at home building a wreath. Frankly, I'm agains the gawdy shiny stuff, but Scott seems to really like it and he really likes things more than I really don't. So, whatever. We have mad sparkly, borderline tacky wreath for the front door now.

That was yesterday. Today, still, I have not bought the jewelry. I mention this to my godmother who suggests that she has seen some things that I may like at Target. I'm not feeling very well, the creeping crud that Scott has had managed to find it's way into my throat. (I'll let you use your imagination to figure out how it got there...) But, I really need to find this jewelry stuff and I want to get it over with. Again, no success. But, again -- has the urge to buy has not dissipated. I amble over to the cosmetics aisle, which is one of THE single most dangerous places for me to be alone. (Second only to a bookstore.) I will wander up and down for hours. Staring at colors and trying to imagine how they will look on me. I generally wind up settling on a lipstick that I will never, ever wear. Today, I managed to sate the beast with some accent eye shadow, but I really wanted the lipstick. It was the Color of Hope, damn it. Who wouldn't want their lips to be the color of Hope?? Honestly, I have a realy hard time resisting the lipstick buying. I know I have the lips for it, I know that it's almost an Angelina Jolie like crime that I don't. But, I don't. It's just too much trouble. I hate putting it on because I don't know how and I get all of the bleeding lines. IF I manage to get it right, then I have to keep it on. And in order to do that I usually have to not eat anything (Like THAT'S going to happen) or you have to keep putting it on.

Tomorrow? I'm heading out with my mom to try to find the jewelry again. I wonder what consolation prize I'll end up with this time...?

Stuffin'

Here's the thing. People sometimes think I am a little Grinchy around Christmas. I complain about the commercialization. I grouse about the shopping and the crowds and the wrapping and all of it.

I don't really get into the spirit.

Here's why. I don't like stuff. I have too much stuff and most of the stuff I have I don't really like. I can do my own version of the George Carlin routine. When I want stuff, I go get the stuff. There's not much stuff that I REALLY want that is out of my reach. But, I have not reached the stage of self-actualization to suggest giving the stuff money to a better cause. Instead, I suggest spending time together doing something that both the other person and I would enjoy doing. Eating dinner, getting our toes done, shopping for shoes, whatever.

I suppose I should not subject others to my stuff issues. After all, I don't really have a problem if they want stuff and I don't really mind being the one to give them the stuff. The main reason I try to avoid the stuff exchange is to prevent the other person from feeling obligated to give me stuff in exchange for the stuff I gave them. Think about it. How many times have you bought someone a gift entirely because you knew they were going to buy you one? It's never ending. Or you bought them a gift and they didn't buy you one. Then next year, they buy you a gift and so you have to get them a gift because they did. They didn't want to buy you anything but you got them something last year...

On and on and on.

It's crazy. Some of my friends have pointed out how much they enjoy going out and finding the thing and giving the thing and seeing the person's reaction when they open the thing. O-kay. Yeah.

Well, I agree with this. Because it's hard to find a middle ground. Not having anything to open on Christmas is shitty.

Shitty.

But having to deal with the stuff after the opening.

Ick.

That's shitty too.

So, perhaps there could be things to open but not stuff. And there are still things that I would like to get. Like books. And skydiving lessons. (Heh, heh.) And spa gift certificates. And books, did I mention that?

That's another blog. The books.

Maybe the certificates and stuff could be wrapped. Or just gifts that don't cost much money and aren't material. Like, promises of foot rubs and an hour without the tv on. (This is a gift I would actually be willing to pay for.) And so. Slips of paper and then wrapped up.

I don't know. Maybe if I had a whole Christmas completely without stuff, I would change my mind. I would miss the stuff.

But, I sort of doubt it.

At least, not until I get a bigger house.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE! Remember there can be stuffing without stuff!

help?

The stupid navigation stuff is on the bottom of the page. How did it get there? How do I get it back? (Previous posts and all that.)

I don't like it.

Bloody hell!

I keep fucking not blogging and then feeling bad about it. AND WHY? Why do I feel bad about not writing? Should I not be writing for fun?

I don't think I should spend the time I am writing bemoaning the fact that I don't write. This is one of the things I CONSTANTLY used to do when I kept a private journal. If you read my journal and extrapolated all of the parts where I apologize (ultimately to myself... well, and as it turned out also to my mother) for not having written, then years of journalling could be abbreviated to just a couple of years.

I was thinking about the journalling thing not that long ago. It used to be a BIG thing with me, big part of who I thought I was, and so forth. Because, I suppose, I used to imagine that I was going to Write. You know, important things that would be read and of course since I was going to be writing these important things that would be read than "the public" would probably want to know Who I Was Back Then.

Yes, I had an overly active imagination.

Apparently, not overly active enough to translate into the actual writing of things. But this fantasy persisted for quite some time. It's only been since my 20's in fact that I realized that I was not going to write anything and more so, that I was pretty okay with not writing thing as the actual writing would have taken time away from more important things. Like watching tv, talking on the phone and thinking about my hair -- VERY important pastimes.

One of the reasons I was thinking about this journalling thing is because of "the list." I have this list of things I came up with that I hadn't done and wanted to do. And I wrote the list 5 years ago and decided to pull it out.

Well, it's really sad because I have not done even one thing on that list. I'm wishing I had not found the list. These aren't even really crazy things, actually. Some of them are pretty basic. Some of them I do not want to do anymore, and some of them I can't believe I wanted to do then. (Which just goes to show you how worthless 5 year plans REALLY are, because 5 years later who knows who the fuck you're going to be and what you're going to want??)

Anyways, for the purposes of sharing... for your examination, but not too much criticism please...

• go sky diving
• go sailing
• go to Europe (my note was to see Paris and Ireland and England and Italy and all of the other countries I'm too ignorant to know anything about)
• go on a whale watch
• visit all 50 state capitols (note: would need to find out what they are, ha ha)
• learn karate
• learn how to make pottery with a wheel (I had probably just seen Ghost)
• fly a kite
• see the Northern lights
• skinny dip somewhere exotic (at least I have since skinny dipped -- or in my case, chunky dunked -- but nowhere exotic)
• have something published (ah ha -- the writer fantasy still at play!)
• learn how to play an instrument (no, Scott, that is not an instrument)
• go water skiing (okay, came close on this one -- got pulled in a tube and that was fun, although not very flattering)
• paint a picture on canvas (good thing I didn't specify that it had to be any good)
• work for a radio station (Why did I want to do this?)
• acquire an enviable cd collection (even then I didn't know why I wanted this according to my note)
• watch someone give birth (really not sure why I wanted to do this -- perhaps I didn't realize that The Baby Story was on TLC)
• refinish a piece of furniture
• fly in a hot air balloon
• learn how to develop film (again, this might be cool, but no overwhelming desire to learn how now)

And that was it.

It's funny the little things we think we want. The things that entice us and attract us and that we think will fulfill and complete us. The bottomless cup you keep on filling again and again.

Sorry, wandered down a blue path. Think I'll follow it to the wine downstairs. G'night!

Eggs Benedict Rule!

So, tonight I went to my WW meeting with fear in my heart. I knew I was going to get bad news on the scale, and I knew that I deserved it.

I was a bad, bad girl this weekend. We went out and had some drinks on Friday night, met up with the Rock and then had some food at the Village Inn.

Yeah, the Village Inn. Home of the best freaking pancakes in the world, except for that place on the Eastern Shore that Jan took me that time. (That was pumpkin pancakes -- something I have been craving for a long time...) We had burgers and fries on Saturday. Sunday I was so bad that I didn't "journal" my food.

Turns out that my ideas of "bad" must be different now... Because I lost 3.4 pounds and have just reached 19 pounds.

I am really delighted with that.

I'm averaging almost 2 pounds a week, which is what conventional wisdom says is average. I could probably lose more, faster if I were exercising -- but f- it, that'll come!!

So, that's it on the weight loss front... The thing is that I really, really love Weight Watchers. I could work there I like it so much. Like to talk about it, like explaining the points, like the meetings, like the people. It's just great! I wish I had seen the light a long time ago and it's hard not to have that regret.

But, no regrets. It's all good!!

here's the thing

I went through a period of watching a little too much Monk, and now I can't shake this expression. "Here's the thing..." I LOVE it, but it's a little addictive. The biggest problem being that no one knows that there is a reason behind WHY I say "here's the thing" and so it loses its pop culture relevance...

Anyway, HERE'S the thing... I feel really bad (or is it badly? Do I feel badly or bad -- I think it's bad) that I don't write more often.

[NOTE: As I am writing this, there is one of those gnatty things flying around and I am chewing gum... I am afraid of something going terribly wrong.]

I think of writing you all the time. I think of the things I want to write about and the commentaries I want to write about. I try to put a witty spin on little events. I give up, I try to be philosophical. I give up, I don't write.

The blog turned into the audience of the blog. Not that you are a large audience, but because I know YOU are out there and I am thinking of YOU and what you want to know about and read about and think about -- it changes me. It changes what I want to write about.

I wouldn't want you to... Well, I don't know. But, we're all fronting, aren't we? "We all have a face that we hide away forever" and all that. I don't really feel like I can unleash anymore.

And I can't, can I? It's not my private, super secret thoughts anymore. I've given you the web address, I've invited you to come out and read and even make comments, if you will.

Sometimes you comment, sometimes you read.

Here's the thing.

A lot of what I think shouldn't be distributed on the internet, but I lack the balls to stop blogging and put it in private again where it belongs.

Should I let you in on the things I really want to bitch about?

Should I keep a private and a public record of my life? I mean, I'm not really that important.

And frankly, it's not even that these things are so shocking -- unless one can be shocked by mundane-ness??

Maybe it's that I don't want you to know how much I really like to just whine and complain and not get things resolved. Because, actually -- I really do like that. I really, really enjoy complaining. I don't know why. I know this is a great character flaw that has left me virtually friendless in my ripe age of 32 1/2, but there it is.

Anyway, there was the thing. We'll see what happens. I'm definitely in a phase.

oops, I forgot to blog

Well, here's a little bit of what has been happening.

LAST Thursday, 10/6, was Scott's birthday. The Gods smiled on Scott on his birthday, and it was good.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::Smallville Spoiler:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The reason that Scott's birthday was so good was because Lana Lang lost her coveted virginity to Clark Kent that day!

Oh. My. God.

That was amazing. The melodrama was so thick that my fingers got pruney from being immersed in it.

Julia: it was better than the Pirates of Penzance!! ;-) (You were nothing before you met me!)

I really never thought I would see the day that she would get "busted out" (ew -- Scott expression), but oh me of little faith!

Really, the best part of the episode was Clark punching Lex out, but since y'all probably don't watch Smallville, you could give a crap. But, it was mad hot ballroom exciting stuff!!

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::End Smallville Spoiler:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


We wound up going out to dinner like three different days over the weekend and I thought FOR SURE that I had screwed the pooch on my weight loss. But I wound up losing 1.6 and hitting my first 15 pounds!

Mostly, the mood around has been gloomy because of the near-constant rainy and cloudy days. I'm on the verge of having those SAD lights installed throughout the house. It's really depressing. You don't want to get out of bed, you don't want to go anywhere, you just want to cry.

But, crying doesn't burn any calories!

Got my last History class this weekend. It's such a relief to have it over with, but I'm pretty bummed to be missing the wine festival. I have to admit to a bit of schadenfreude since the weather has been so crappy. Mean, eh?

Okay, we're caught up!

Another weight loss thing with a theory...

My co-worker that joined WW with me has been losing a bit faster than I have, and since I am competitive about the dumbest things (though, deeply shamed by it -- another blog) this has really been bugging me. She keeps saying she hasn't been "good" and yet she usually gets better results on the scale than I do.

Now, my theory is that I am losing weight slower because I have never actively tried to lose weight in my adult life for more than a few weeks. So, I'm thinking that I am losing the weight at a slower pace because my body isn't used to yo-yo dieting and so doesn't react as easily to lifestyle changes. I think this may be based on something I have actually heard about weight loss, so someone back me up here. What I have heard is that if you are constantly dieting that it's easier for your body to slip into that routine and start dropping the pounds at first and then you usually plateau at the point where you "leave off" every time.

True or false? Madame Librarian?? I'm deferring to you now that you have time away from your crazy work schedule. :-)

another exciting post about my weight loss journey - oh boy.

Got good news on the scale tonight -- I lost 2.6 pounds. I'm down about 13.6, which means that I'm averaging almost 2 pounds a week -- which is what you're supposed to aim for!

The thing about this that is a little intimidating to me is that if I continue on this same pattern even through the rough holiday times, then by the end of the year I could be down to about half of my goal weight. That would be amazing!!

Amazing.

But, also a bit unrealistic given the tempations of the season. Though I will say that one of the greatest up sides of having a small family is that the holidays are not usually filled with food for me. Since I myself do not bake, the only exposure I have is around my mom. And since she won't have anyone but herself to bake for... Well, never mind -- that doesn't stop her, my dad never really ate sweets anyways!

So, I have decided that I will be satisfied if I can lose the next 15 or so pounds to put me at my next personal "mini" goal and STAY there through the holidays, then I have accomplished more than many.

I mean, good Lord, a woman can only resist but so many cookies in her life.

So, my tip (if you happen to be a fellow Weight Watcher person who stumbled onto my blog) is if you're not going to capital E exercise, then find little ways to sneak it in a little bit. Scott and I have been shooting hoops a little bit, as we've talked about. I park my car as far from the door as I can in the morning and I try to take the stairs. (Though, to be honest, I'm far more successful at taking them down than I am up.) But, in general, I try to find little ways to sneak in walking throughout the day. I take a short walk on at least one of my breaks. If I have reading to do for school, I try to at least walk over to a further break area to sit to do the reading. I really believe that some of these little things must be paying off.

Maybe believing is enough, who knows?

Old

All the signs that I am getting too old are here. What to do?

Generally, I have been choosing comfort over fashion in the footwear department lately. I mean, I LOVE cute shoes more than a lot of people -- though not as much as many that I know. My quantity of cute shoes though has been diminishing based on my desire to wear comfortable shoes... Ick! I mean, what's next? Support hose?

I prefer to read more domesticated magazines than my usual staple of fashion single magazines. I can only learn how to put on eyeshadow so many times before I get completely bored. In Real Simple, I can learn alternatives to eye shadow if I run out AND an effective way to organize my closet. Granted, I'm not actually organizing my closet (please, I'm not THAT old), but the concept is intriguing.

I've lost my whimsy and replaced it with crankiness and anti-socialness. Don't believe me? Try calling sometime -- I'm all, "same old, same old -- nothing new." I'm liked Eeyore's less spunky aunt. What is up with that? Do I need more fiber? (Well, gee -- only an old person would think that fiber is the answer, so that must be it.) Was I always this cranky? I can't remember.

And so that means that I am forgetting things! Another sign of aging! You know how you're trying to remember something and you try so hard to remember it that then you can't remember why you wanted to remember it?? Yeah. Me too.

What was I talking about?

Oh, yeah -- how old I'm getting.

Just this weekend I was mocking my friend about her partying ways. She was complaining that everyone thinks she is drunk most of the time, and I was trying to explain that if you call people at 3:30 in the morning your time, people generally do not think you are sober. Because no one insomniac calls in the middle of the night -- no one has ever called it that. (This is the friend whose motto is "go big or go home" and yet thinks she can have a "low key" evening with just a couple of drinks... riiiight.) But, really -- this just makes me feel old. Because not only do I not party like that anymore, I really do not have any desire to do that anymore. Not out on the town at 7 different bars. The closest I get is out in my living room with 7 bottles of wine and good friends talking about men until all hours.

Some people say that not going out and partying is just part of being domesticated and getting more mature and whatnot, but I cry bullshit to that. Because all of that is really just code for the fact that we are too old and cranky to be able to hang for that amount of time!

At least I've been taking vitamins for years so I don't have to associate taking a handful of pills with being old. But, I do associate the fact that I am making a concerted effort to go to bed at a "decent' hour so I can get a good night's sleep with being old.

I'm thinking about retirement. I'm thinking about the fact that I can pretty clearly remember many things that happened 20 years ago -- 20 years -- and not have that seem like that long ago. I see kids who are 20 and they look 10.

And on and on. I'm trying to get a handle on this aging thing, but that's the thing -- you can't really hold on to it. Just a big hand full of the cellulite that aging (and, um, booze) has deposited on my butt and really worry because 20 years from now I'm going to think I looked GOOD now.

Peace!

The Notorious O.L.D.

Was re-reading an old post and decided to take the death test again.

Turns out, my life is getting shorter. This time I will die Thursday, April 2nd 2037. At the tender age of 63 years old.

I hope it's after Smallville is on. (I hear the Senior Citizen years are going to be hot.)