Monday, September 28, 2009
On the Mend
Whew. I seem to be back in the land of the living. I am back at work and feeling less and less like a wrung out wet towel. Heck, by this weekend, I may be back to full steam. That would be nice. Two weeks until Covered Bridge Festival, and I don't think I'll make my goal of 140 by then. We'll see. I went to Pilates this morning and was a royal wuss. It felt good to move, though. It just feels good to be able to move at all.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Fuze Product Endorsement
While I was ill, I tried to get some form of nutrition via beverages, as this is the only thing that sounded good. I picked up a couple of fruity drinks called "Fuze" and I quite enjoyed them. The one I really liked was a mango combination that was something about "revitalize" and had B vitamins featured on the label.
So, if you are bored and feel like trying out a new fruit drink, check out the Fuze line of stuff. They have some that are labeled "slenderize" which of course is total crap cuz no drink is going to make you slender. Those are just lower calorie (20 as opposed to 180 with the revitalize drink), but still tasty. Man, they should so pay me for this.
So, if you are bored and feel like trying out a new fruit drink, check out the Fuze line of stuff. They have some that are labeled "slenderize" which of course is total crap cuz no drink is going to make you slender. Those are just lower calorie (20 as opposed to 180 with the revitalize drink), but still tasty. Man, they should so pay me for this.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Silver Lining
If there is one upside to being sick for a week it is this: weight loss jump start. The tracking space has been collecting dust again over there on the right, not because I haven't been tracking, but because I was embarassed to type the real numbers. I think my weight climbed somewhere up in the 155 region - pretty gross. Well, I had reigned it in a bit and was stuck at 150 pounds. Grrrrr. After a week of being sick, I am back down to 147, and don't have much of an appetite. I'll take it.
I have a couple of motivating events coming up. One of them was the DesMoines trip that I missed (dang it), but the next one is on October 10th - Covered Bridge Days in Winterset. It's like a class reunion where you see a bunch of people you haven't seen in at least a year if not more. You all know there are three reactions to those meetings, "Wow, she looks great!" or "Well, it was nice to see her again." or "Wow, she's really let herself go. I'm surprised." I'm going for reaction #1.
The second event is Legacy Ball in early November. I want to buy a pretty fancy dress and go dancing and feel fabulous. I'd like the dress-buying part to be fun, as well. Yay for motivation. If my diet rules really worked, I'd be down to my goal of 135 by Covered Bridge. I'm shooting for 140 by then, and maybe 135 by Legacy. Cross your fingers that the reduced appetite effect from my illness hangs with me. I deserve SOME sort of silver lining after the week of crap I endured, right?
I have a couple of motivating events coming up. One of them was the DesMoines trip that I missed (dang it), but the next one is on October 10th - Covered Bridge Days in Winterset. It's like a class reunion where you see a bunch of people you haven't seen in at least a year if not more. You all know there are three reactions to those meetings, "Wow, she looks great!" or "Well, it was nice to see her again." or "Wow, she's really let herself go. I'm surprised." I'm going for reaction #1.
The second event is Legacy Ball in early November. I want to buy a pretty fancy dress and go dancing and feel fabulous. I'd like the dress-buying part to be fun, as well. Yay for motivation. If my diet rules really worked, I'd be down to my goal of 135 by Covered Bridge. I'm shooting for 140 by then, and maybe 135 by Legacy. Cross your fingers that the reduced appetite effect from my illness hangs with me. I deserve SOME sort of silver lining after the week of crap I endured, right?
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Getting Rid of Stuff
I have a strange co-occurring set of personality traits. I am very nostalgic and yet I hate having too much stuff in my house. You can see how these two things compete with one another. Nostalgic = collector of stuff with memories attached. Clutter hater = one who throws things out or sells them with regularity; noncollecter.
My mother is a clutter hater and is also nonsentimental. Not that she does not have any sense of sentiment at all, but her pragmatic side rules, ultimately. She has moved a lot, and I think this drives part of her detached stance when it comes to stuff. The other part is that she just feels better in a clean environment and likes to update and redecorate. It is impossible to bring more stuff into an already-full house and have it feel as clean and airy as she likes.
My father is a keeper, and is nostalgic in some ways. He thinks everything can be reused and should be used until it is just plain unsafe. In that way, he is a great environmentalist. In that way, he has no sense of interior decorating style.
My spouse comes from a family of keepers. There are no people who throw things out. Well, his grandma once knocked down their old farmhouse and built a new ranch home, and really has never lived it down. They were rather displeased that many family heirlooms ended up down the old well. In their defense, she didn't ask them if they wanted it, and this was mostly their objection. In her defense, it was her stuff and she can pitch it if she wants to, especially if she wanted new stuff and didn't want to mess with a garage sale.
Sigh. So, I like my environment to be fairly uncluttered. BUT I have a hard time getting rid of things, especially if they were given to me by my inlaws (the keepers - these people still have my husband's baby clothes and changing table), or if they have some family connection. But I have that side of me that says, "Why? Why is that hard to get rid of your newer Fenton glass if you are not that into it any more? So what if your mother-in-law frowns if she knows you want to sell it?"
Can you tell I spent the day cleaning and sorting? Yup, I did. And I STILL think my house is either too small, or I still have way too much stuff.
My mother is a clutter hater and is also nonsentimental. Not that she does not have any sense of sentiment at all, but her pragmatic side rules, ultimately. She has moved a lot, and I think this drives part of her detached stance when it comes to stuff. The other part is that she just feels better in a clean environment and likes to update and redecorate. It is impossible to bring more stuff into an already-full house and have it feel as clean and airy as she likes.
My father is a keeper, and is nostalgic in some ways. He thinks everything can be reused and should be used until it is just plain unsafe. In that way, he is a great environmentalist. In that way, he has no sense of interior decorating style.
My spouse comes from a family of keepers. There are no people who throw things out. Well, his grandma once knocked down their old farmhouse and built a new ranch home, and really has never lived it down. They were rather displeased that many family heirlooms ended up down the old well. In their defense, she didn't ask them if they wanted it, and this was mostly their objection. In her defense, it was her stuff and she can pitch it if she wants to, especially if she wanted new stuff and didn't want to mess with a garage sale.
Sigh. So, I like my environment to be fairly uncluttered. BUT I have a hard time getting rid of things, especially if they were given to me by my inlaws (the keepers - these people still have my husband's baby clothes and changing table), or if they have some family connection. But I have that side of me that says, "Why? Why is that hard to get rid of your newer Fenton glass if you are not that into it any more? So what if your mother-in-law frowns if she knows you want to sell it?"
Can you tell I spent the day cleaning and sorting? Yup, I did. And I STILL think my house is either too small, or I still have way too much stuff.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Rules of Dieting
That I have Just Made Up....
Here forward, these shall be the official rules of dieting, because I said so.
1) Any change in exercise, whether it is adding some, increasing intensity, trying something new or stepping foot in a gym = 1 pound lost
2) Any use of the phrase, "No thank you," in response to an offer for an extra treat = 1/2 pound lost
3) Any week of healthy eating = automatic 3 pound loss with extras lost for other rules followed
4) Any lettuce-based salad consumed as a meal where the dip-your-fork-in-the-dressing method is utilized = 1 pound lost
5) Any time dessert is not ordered and you only take a bite of someone else's = 1 pound lost
6) Any time you pick up a bag of chocolates at the store and put them back on the shelf before checkout = 1 pound lost
7) Any time you skip dessert at a pot luck, funeral or buffet = 2 pounds lost
8) All eating on major holidays, birthdays, promotions, or times of great stress = no weight gain
9) Any weight lost during an illness is banished and not allowed to ever return to it's origin, unless the origin invites it back formally.
There you have it. If only it were this way, dieting would be much more rewarding in the short term.
Here forward, these shall be the official rules of dieting, because I said so.
1) Any change in exercise, whether it is adding some, increasing intensity, trying something new or stepping foot in a gym = 1 pound lost
2) Any use of the phrase, "No thank you," in response to an offer for an extra treat = 1/2 pound lost
3) Any week of healthy eating = automatic 3 pound loss with extras lost for other rules followed
4) Any lettuce-based salad consumed as a meal where the dip-your-fork-in-the-dressing method is utilized = 1 pound lost
5) Any time dessert is not ordered and you only take a bite of someone else's = 1 pound lost
6) Any time you pick up a bag of chocolates at the store and put them back on the shelf before checkout = 1 pound lost
7) Any time you skip dessert at a pot luck, funeral or buffet = 2 pounds lost
8) All eating on major holidays, birthdays, promotions, or times of great stress = no weight gain
9) Any weight lost during an illness is banished and not allowed to ever return to it's origin, unless the origin invites it back formally.
There you have it. If only it were this way, dieting would be much more rewarding in the short term.
Sickness Sucks
Ok, well, I have been really sick this week. No, that does not really excuse the lack of blog updates. BUT, when I say I was sick this week, I mean SICK. I have not felt this badly in many a moon. It started Monday evening when I got tired really early, and carried into Tuesday when I spiked a fever and went home from work. I hate fevers. I got the kind where it feels like someone is kicking you in the back repeatedly, and your legs have lives of their own and will not sit still. Also, the alternate chills and sweating is not my favorite. Ug, the sweating. It's like I ran a marathon, complete with swamp ass. I have to change my clothes! I only have so many pairs of sweatpants and big tee shirts.
I thought I was better today. Yesterday I woke up with a fever (small comparative to other days, only 101!) that seemed to go away by noon. hooray! I was weak, I was tired, I looked terrible, but I was hopeful. I got up this morning, and still no temp. I drug my tired ass through the motions of getting ready, applying a lot of extra concealer under my eyes to avoid the comments of, "Wow, you don't look like you feel so good." Those are always encouraging, aren't they? Everything wore me out, but I chalked it up to the diet of tea buns eaten when taking 800 mg of ibuprofen. No gas in the tank, folks. I saw patients, thankful for my sedentary job, and then went home for lunch and ate some Cheerios and picked up a vitamin-packed juice (Fuze brand) at the convenience store on the way home. Refueling efforts.
Why the press to get better? Well, besides the obvious point of disliking feeling ill... I had plans this weekend! Oh, and not just any plans, but plans for a girls' weekend away. No kids, no spouses, just me and my girlfriends in DesMoines. We had scheduled spa mornings at Sahar's - a swanky spa in West DesMoines, where I was to enjoy a sweedish massage and a "hand facial" where they wrap you up to your arms in seaweed or mud or sea salt or something, and rub and clean all of your stress away. A spa morning, where you can pretend to be one of those ladies in the movies who is always going to the spa for, well, spa services. The delight did not end there. Heck, it didn't even start there! We were leaving this very evening, with dinner plans in downtown DesMoines where they serve food that is not just burgers and chicken. Then we were just going to hang out and have a no-plans evening, maybe heading to Barnes and Nobel. Mmmmm. Oh, and then after we got up and had our spa morning, we were going to SHOP! I was going to go to White House Black Market and buy something that made me feel appealing, attractive, and perhaps a bit sexy. I was on the prowl for new shoes and tall black boots. I had money saved, I had gift cards to burn... oooh, the pleasure!
But wait! There's more! AFTER the spa and the shopping, we were going to have MORE dinner at yet another restraunt that serves a wider variety than cheeseballs and chicken strips. We had plans to get our makeup applied by professionals who I am certain could make me look like a movie star. This, with my new outfit, would have me feel stunning and ready for the next part in our fun weekend... DANCING! Oh, my favorite part. I love to dance. love it love it love it. I often intend to drink too much when going out dancing, but it rarely happens because I do not spend enough time off the dance floor consuming alcohol. I would get a few woot-woos from random boys or men and that would make me smile while I dance with my girlfriends, laughing and throwing caution to the wind. Oh, what a grand vision. And we would wake up slowly on Sunday, giggling about the memories from the day before, eating bagels and drinking coffee and packing up our stuff strewn about the room, showing off our treasures from the shopping the day before... Then we'd shop a little more and head home. Tired but rejuvenated like any good vacation.
Notice that I have used past tense and wistful language. Because I am at home in bed, NOT going to DesMoines. Spa appointments canceled. No shopping, no dinners, no dancing. Sickness sucks. Fever is back, accompanied by other unpleasant gastrointestinal effects. TMI?
Now, I know that this is so minor in comparison to other troubles in the world. I'm not having to battle cancer. My children are healthy. I can afford to go on trip and still pay my mortgage. So, I know it is petty. But, allow me this one woe is me moment, and I promise I will move on quickly.
I thought I was better today. Yesterday I woke up with a fever (small comparative to other days, only 101!) that seemed to go away by noon. hooray! I was weak, I was tired, I looked terrible, but I was hopeful. I got up this morning, and still no temp. I drug my tired ass through the motions of getting ready, applying a lot of extra concealer under my eyes to avoid the comments of, "Wow, you don't look like you feel so good." Those are always encouraging, aren't they? Everything wore me out, but I chalked it up to the diet of tea buns eaten when taking 800 mg of ibuprofen. No gas in the tank, folks. I saw patients, thankful for my sedentary job, and then went home for lunch and ate some Cheerios and picked up a vitamin-packed juice (Fuze brand) at the convenience store on the way home. Refueling efforts.
Why the press to get better? Well, besides the obvious point of disliking feeling ill... I had plans this weekend! Oh, and not just any plans, but plans for a girls' weekend away. No kids, no spouses, just me and my girlfriends in DesMoines. We had scheduled spa mornings at Sahar's - a swanky spa in West DesMoines, where I was to enjoy a sweedish massage and a "hand facial" where they wrap you up to your arms in seaweed or mud or sea salt or something, and rub and clean all of your stress away. A spa morning, where you can pretend to be one of those ladies in the movies who is always going to the spa for, well, spa services. The delight did not end there. Heck, it didn't even start there! We were leaving this very evening, with dinner plans in downtown DesMoines where they serve food that is not just burgers and chicken. Then we were just going to hang out and have a no-plans evening, maybe heading to Barnes and Nobel. Mmmmm. Oh, and then after we got up and had our spa morning, we were going to SHOP! I was going to go to White House Black Market and buy something that made me feel appealing, attractive, and perhaps a bit sexy. I was on the prowl for new shoes and tall black boots. I had money saved, I had gift cards to burn... oooh, the pleasure!
But wait! There's more! AFTER the spa and the shopping, we were going to have MORE dinner at yet another restraunt that serves a wider variety than cheeseballs and chicken strips. We had plans to get our makeup applied by professionals who I am certain could make me look like a movie star. This, with my new outfit, would have me feel stunning and ready for the next part in our fun weekend... DANCING! Oh, my favorite part. I love to dance. love it love it love it. I often intend to drink too much when going out dancing, but it rarely happens because I do not spend enough time off the dance floor consuming alcohol. I would get a few woot-woos from random boys or men and that would make me smile while I dance with my girlfriends, laughing and throwing caution to the wind. Oh, what a grand vision. And we would wake up slowly on Sunday, giggling about the memories from the day before, eating bagels and drinking coffee and packing up our stuff strewn about the room, showing off our treasures from the shopping the day before... Then we'd shop a little more and head home. Tired but rejuvenated like any good vacation.
Notice that I have used past tense and wistful language. Because I am at home in bed, NOT going to DesMoines. Spa appointments canceled. No shopping, no dinners, no dancing. Sickness sucks. Fever is back, accompanied by other unpleasant gastrointestinal effects. TMI?
Now, I know that this is so minor in comparison to other troubles in the world. I'm not having to battle cancer. My children are healthy. I can afford to go on trip and still pay my mortgage. So, I know it is petty. But, allow me this one woe is me moment, and I promise I will move on quickly.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Red Red Wine
I had a good evening last night. I went golfing with my sister and the weather was perfect. Then we went to a local eatery and ordered my favorite salad to go, having a martini while we waited. Good thing my house is two blocks away from that place, cuz that thing was strong and I had only eaten a package of granola bites that whole day. Woo. Then we watched the movie, "17 Again" starring Zach Effron while eating our salads and drinking red wine. I highly recommend watching movies in this fashion. I'm quite certain that the wine made the movie much funnier, Zach Effron even more attractive (he doesn't really need much help there), and Emily and I much funnier as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
