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.)

In honor of Banned Books Week

Through my weekly book-y newsletter (The Bookreporter.com -- if you like books at all, sign up for their weekly newsletter -- it's wonderful!), I learned that the last week of September is Banned Books Week. This is not a week where we burn books because they offend W -- it's a week where we celebrate the fact that we have the freedom to read what we want to read, even if others (even W) find it offensive.

The following is the list of the Top 100 Most "Challenged" (from ala.org: "A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group.") Books.

I was shocked at some of the names on there, but not as shocked as I was that Scott doesn't even know who Shel Silverstein is. But, that's another blog.

Read one of these this week if you can, I know I am going to try to!


Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
Forever by Judy Blume
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
The Giver by Lois Lowry
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Sex by Madonna
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
The Goats by Brock Cole
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Blubber by Judy Blume
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Deenie by Judy Blume
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
Cujo by Stephen King
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
Jack by A.M. Homes
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
Carrie by Stephen King
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

More on my weight

(You don't blog enough, whines the person whom I hadn't heard from since my dad died. Um, well -- you could write me...)

I had my first weight gain since my Weight Watchers journey. And as slight as it was (.4 -- whyyy did I not pee before I got on the scale??), it was still depressing. I mean, I was not "good." I ate pizza with my cousin and had 2 beers -- and they were not light beers. I had some pot roast on Sunday. I had some of Scott's burrito stuff this weekend. I haven't been exercising. It adds up. I should be grateful it wasn't more of a slide, but I guess since I really try to be SO careful in between those downslides that I just take for granted that it's okay to slip.

And it will be, once I lose some more of this 75 lbs.

I tell you I am more and more impressed with people who really use all of the 16 hours they are awake a day. People who exercise and go to school and work (sometimes more than one job) -- these are people who are just fucking up my excuses that it's not possible! I mean, am I supposed to go to the gym when the Gilmore Girls are on??

I jest. Of course I am supposed to and I do not.

But, too, I am tired of beating myself up for all of the things I don't do. All of the mistakes I make and all of the error. I am generally eating better than I have in my life. I eat fruit and/or vegetables at least two or three times a day. That is two or three times more than I was before. I drink milk every day. I really try to think about the things I eat. Fried things rarely touch my lips anymore.

So, I am going to start working on thinking about those things. Focusing on the positive steps I am making in my life. If I never lost another pound in my life and continued to eat this way for the rest of my life, I would be better off than I was before.

Anyways -- this is the real reason you don't get regular posts from me, Captain. Because they would either be about all of the weight I wish I was losing or all of the exercise I wasn't doing or about all of my school crap. (Just 5 classes away and a computer CLEP from an Associates. Never thought I could be this proud of having a lousy 2 year degree, but it's 2 more years than a lot of people, eh?)

Coach Big Daddy!

Recently, Scott's been talking about wanting to shoot hoops. I have no idea where this is coming from, but he is talking about it all the time. "I wanna get a basketball and go down and shoot some hoops!"

What are you, 10? Where is this coming from?? But, I really try to get enthusiastic about anything that might get us out of the house and off of our asses. I mean, Lord knows I can't really motivate myself to do that on my own -- I really need help. But, we have a strong ass-couch attraction on our house. Hello, we're Americans and if we weren't fat and lazy then the terrorists will have won.

But, I digress.

So, we happened upon a basketball when we were moving out the furniture from the condo. The last tenants had left behind a basketball. It was a souvenir one and not regulation size, but I managed to convince Scott that it would do for now. (Doesn't take much to convince him not to spend money, bless his heart.)

Long story short -- too late. We go down tonight to shoot some hoops. And it was great! I had a lot of fun and we got to spend some time together outdoors and teasing each other and just having fun. Then, he starts giving me pointers. And, totally not in some obnoxious guy way -- like, let me show you how to do that again because clearly you're just not getting it. It was just so sweet and supportive. Getting me pumped up about making easy shots, and then he was actign like it was so unusual that he was making all these shots. But, Heather you look like a pro! Totally stroking my ego, but in this amazingly supportive, noncondescending way...

And this was when I had the epiphany. Scott should be a school coach! He laughed this off -- he said he didn't know anything about sports. But, then started calling all of the parts of the basketball court and teaching them to me. Showing me the mechanics of what makes the shot good.

I am telling you all -- it was amazing. I just couldn't stop thinking about how many kids' lives would be better off with him in it. Just infinite amounts of patience and this perfect ability to push you without even realizing that he is doing it. It was like I saw him for the first time. Not because I had never witnessed this behavior in him before, but because I was just now really seeing it and appreciating him for who he is.

Seriously, it sounds a little crazy but I just wish I could talk him into it. No, it wouldn't be a great big salary or get us the vacation of our dreams every year... But, you know the saying, "you do what you love..." So, if you never work a day in your life, then who cares about money and vactions?"

Don't you think we want those things because we think they will bring us some elusive happiness that we just can't seem to achieve?



Wow.



Didn't think it was possible to blow smoke that far up one's own ass! Who knew??

All I am saying is that the world needs Coach Big Daddy -- fuhgeddabout over-analyzing why!

xoxo

H

ps -- Watched one of my favorite movies tonight I, Robot. It totally enravels me in the meaning of the universe and the great philosophical questions that I like to ask over and over. I turn everything into the meaning of life.

How fucking pretentious and silly is that?

Theories on disengagement...

While there are many issues associated with the engagement process, there are equally as many surrounding the disengagement process. Disengagement meaning those toxic situations that you just can't seem to get yourself out of. Or even when you DO get out of, can't seem to get over and just put behind you.

I think that most of us have had some form of toxic relationship. I had a former marriage that was toxic and didn't even learn my lesson then, because I followed that with a few toxic relationships or entanglements.

What is it that draws us into those situations? I'm not talking about the typical guy situations that we moan about -- the occasional flights into bad boyfriend behavior -- I'm talking about men who are incapable of treating you with anything resembling complete respect. Men who get into your head and live their rent free and then trash the place. BAD. Men that you convince yourself are right for you and overlook the majority of their flaws as an excuse.

And why? What is the reason? And how do you disengage?

All I can do is tell you what worked for me. First of all, you have to accept that you do not actually LOVE this man. Because loving someone doesn't come with but's. And you will hear yourself saying but I love him or I love him but. Nope. People have flaws. Treating you like crap is not a flaw, it is simply unacceptable. Lying to you, talking down to you, being unfaithful to someone to be with you, forgetting important personal accomplishments in your life, expecting you to do all of the work and not putting any effort in -- these are NOT flaws. This is a serious lack of character that you are deciding to associate yourself with. Why? Because you do not think you are worthy of better.

But, let me tell you something -- you are. You are worth more than that. You have to decide that, you HAVE to believe that, and then you have to believe that anyone who does not treat you with the same amount of respect that you treat him is not worth your time. Do not return his phone calls. Do not answer his emails. Do not send him any form of mail. Do not give him the time of day. Because you are undermining your value as a person each and every time you give someone value who makes you feel like anything less than you are.

If you went to a restaurant and your waiter did not bring you water or provide you with any service or even pay attention to you, would you consider that acceptable and reward that waiter with a BIG tip?? Because if the answer is no, then why would you reward with someone with pieces of who you are and information about you that he will only use to get into your head and hurt you more? Where is the sense in that??

It's not easy moving on. You've got to talk to people about it. Friends who don't accept your bullshit about he's a good person, but... If you don't have friends like this, then you need to get a counselor. You need to listen to a lot of music that is not going to make you sad and weepy and thinking about all the good times you had. You didn't have good times -- you just don't want to be alone.

Get over it.

Being alone sucks fucking ass, I'm not going to candy coat it. You hear empowered women telling you that to choose to be with a man is just a cop-out and that you don't need a man. Well, of course you don't need a man -- I myself have often used the phrase about women needing men as much as fish need bicycles. But that doesn't mean it isn't nice to have one around. BUT, that is where your thinking has to stop. Because while it's nice to have them around, you don't need anyone toxic around. You don't need them in your head, you don't need them in your bed.

The truth is that being in a successful relationship is actually a little boring. Because there is no drama. That's how you really know it's right -- you're a little bored. If you're not a little bored and you're tired of fighting all the time, then get out. Move on. It's not right. You're not getting any younger.

And, if you are already out, but you can't get him out of your head -- talk him out of it. Don't forgive him his trespasses. Don't forget his sins. You need to remember those things.

Disengage, my friends -- it's the only way to save yourself.