Bye Bye 2010!

I thought it necessary to close out 2010 with a post before I head to a pool bar with my friend! Woot woot!

Well, last year I thought this would be the year for me and it was... I got a job that I love doing and could only be happier if it were closer to home. I stuck to my running regime (for the most part) and lost... drum roll please!!

22.25 pounds!

AND

19.5 inches total!

So what's my New Year's Res for 2011?? Well for one, keep it up!!

I plan to buy another calendar (half price!!) and to continue tracking my running/workouts. I'm going to run the Phoenix 1/2 even if it kills me (which so far may just happen). And I'm going to get back into the swing of things by nixing excess sugar, up the veggies, cook healthier food, etc etc...

But will it be my year again? No. I don't think so. I have a feeling this will be the year I explode. No, not literally... but something sometime is going to just explode. I'll break through some barrier or make some kind of move or improvement or I'm not really sure what. But I can see it in my mind's eye. An image of the year as a flat winding path swirling off into the distance - like the spaces on a game of Candy Land or Jumanji - and circling back on itself to represent a complete year, a full rotation.

And on the spaces that represent the distant but not too distant months... May? June? July?   I see a massive dark lightning cloud, sort of see through like smoke or mist or fog. It symbolizes some kind of turmoil but good or bad? I don't know. Frankly, I don't think good or bad, just a time of change. It's going to last about a month and then I'll bust through the fog and see things or do things clearly.

Whatever it is, it will be a change up from my usual routine.

That is what I feel about 2011. Where last year I felt pinky-silver sparkles, this year I feel flashy black/purple smokey powder. Weird... I know. Whatever...

My real New Year's Resolution? Sorry... gotta wait for the new year :P

My Christmas Wish

Dear Lord

Happy Birthday. Although it probably isn't your true day of birth, I guess it doesn't really matter when that was, so long as the message gets across. And I know as a custom that it's the birthday boy's day to make the wishes and ask for presents, but I have one Christmas wish of my own to make that I really really really want to be granted.

Please Lord, please help my sister. I don't want her wasting her life with her husband. I realize I'm basically hoping she gets a divorce, and it's not that I want that, but if that's the only way the situation can be fixed... please make them get divorced.

Now, like all wishes, one has got to be specific lest the wish is taken too literally or whatnot and results in a worse situation than what one has started with. So... here is my lengthy and detailed wish to be sure I get this right:

Please Lord, make her husband realize the error of his ways in a not so subtle way. Perhaps he will have a horrible boss who treats him the same way he treats my sister. Perhaps my father will have heard the last straw and come to beat him up. Perhaps my sister will put her foot down and walk out on him... (one can always hope). In any case, let nothing happen to my sister (ie... devastating disease, coma, death, etc) and let nothing that happens to her husband be taken out on her (ie... he starts beating her or whatnot).

Next, he will change his behavior permanently. He will get off his fat ass and make his own damn plate for dinner... hell, he will COOK dinner for her on occasion. He won't ask her to feed him while he sits on the couch, he won't ask her to get up and get him another glass of water during a movie, he won't mention aloud that the dog needs to go outside before heading to the bedroom while expecting her to let him out (ESPECIALLY IF IT'S RAINING!!), he won't pout about the fact he can't see the movie he wants and make her feel bad about him being "left out" so that she can't enjoy the rest of her night, he won't boss her around, complain that she's being negative when really she's just being sarcastic and funny, he won't complain about anything really, he'll offer suggestions on things to do like playing tennis or just going for a walk instead of sitting on his rear end and getting fatter by the minute (see sidebar). And most especially, he will value her at every moment of the day. He'll always put her concerns first and never take advantage of her eagerness to please. He'll be less selfish and every time he feels the need to point a finger... he'll point it at himself... FIRST AND FOREMOST.

OR

He will lose her. She'll finally realize that he doesn't deserve her. She'll walk out and never look back. She won't be spineless and take his bullshit. She'll strike out on her own, knowing she has me always and Mom and Dad and even our flaky aunt. And then she'll have Mark. Who (as far as I know), has always loved her. Has a bit of a reckless side and enjoys having fun. Who is committed to serving You and would (as far as I know) live as he is commanded to: "...let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband." Ephesians 5:33

How else is she suppose to respect her husband if he can't respect her? And although divorce is probably not what the Bible tells us to do... I would rather she get a divorce than deal with him for the rest of her life if he doesn't shape up.

He reminds me of my grandfather, but even he had his chores. And I am more apt to forgive him since he was raised to be the "provider" and my grandmother was raise to be the "homemaker." And frankly, I'm fine with those gender roles if that is how it is going to be. If my sister's husband went to work and provided for them; and my sister stayed home and did the laundry and made dinner and raised the kids (thank You there are no kids added to this equation). Then all would be fine (albeit mind numbing). But it's not like that (and I suppose we have the women's rights movement to thank for that). My sister works 65 hour weeks, 12 hour days and occasional weekends. They chose to live in California, probably the most expensive place in the US. They have two dogs to care for and hardly spend enough time together.

Rather than taking it in stride, he makes her wait on him, hand and foot. He's never satisfied, rarely thankful, and always a baby. He degrades her and she is either powerless to do anything about it or has been so brainwashed she feels it's within his rights to behave that way!!

Sidebar: Is this because of the idiotic belief that women of a certain age ought to be married? And my sister feels like this is her lot in life and/or chose it because she thought she needed to marry so early without finding the right guy???

One would think that with the women's rights movement not only would societies ideas about feminine abilities and gender roles change, but also expectations as well. But no! Although, women can now vote, own property, inherit wealth, and work in any profession they deem of interest; they are still expected to marry and produce children or else be judged a spinster - something to be looked down upon or pitied. On top of that, there is an exceptional pressure for women to look a certain way.

That way being what ever is en vogue for the time period. Most recently slender to the point of appearing anorexic (although thankfully this trend seems to be going out of style in favor of flat chests and wide hips. And what the hell is with the "mormon look" anyway?? Yea, get ready for button ups and straight cuts because I foresee an ugly epidemic... unless of course Natalie Portman's ballerina blockbuster brings back the gawky long necked coat hanger look... one may never know)...

And I feel as if men don't have to deal with this... I for one prefer a guy with meat on his bones. Being that I am overweight and have been morbidly obese in the past, I do enjoy feeling petite. If I can squash the guy with my bare hands, I don't even want to imagine what I'd do in the throws of a passionate tryst (sorry for that image people). Besides that, I don't see weight. I see personality and possibly hygiene/nice teeth (that whole "gift horse" is extremely accurate... a leading cause of heart disease is poor dental health). I don't really notice rippling muscles or washboard abs, and while guys who look like that can be entertaining they are also intimidating, shallow, and self absorbed.

Even though a girl (I am generalizing but I am a girl so I can do that) could care less about appearance, guys seem to require perfection. My point being that my sister is under a lot of pressure. She doesn't need to be getting it from her husband who is hypocritically the size of a whale! And yes, that was an exaggeration and no, he wasn't always like that. But I have the right to say it as I've been in his position and it was awful.

I know what it's like to wake up and feel old, to get to the top of the stairs and be out of breath, to find it difficult to get off the couch or motivate yourself to do anything other than watch TV. It isn't fun. It's no way to live your life. So I have the right to call him out on it (even if it is only in my head).

So, back to my original point. Please Lord, make my sister grow a spine and demand to be treated better, give her the power to walk out on her husband and be with someone 10x better, make her husband grow a pair and lose weight and participate in the marriage or make him sorry he didn't bother to shape up!!

Please Lord, I just want her to live a happy and fulfilled life.

It's all just a way....

I was watching Bones and the story centered on Brennan not being able to distance herself from a case that seemed similar to her life. They mention that the brain takes 3 days to adapt, that the world when seen through reflective glasses will appear upside down for three days until the brain adjusts and vice versa when you take them off again. And in the end, the night watchman says, "I got my own story, just like you, just like everyone. I've got my own sad story."

And that got me thinking, I don't want a sad story. I don't want to have regrets.

So, I am a self professed great advice giver. But who listens to me? No one. And I understand the value in making your own mistakes - lessons really sink in that way. It's true, but when the situation results in months of agony, bitterness, and/or brokenheartedness, why not just take the advice and avoid all the mess? I don't understand what drives people to do things that can only turn out bad. Especially if they know it will. Especially if someone can see it happening and warns them about it.

I've always been reserved, conservative, a goody two shoes. Afraid to get drunk, afraid to lose control and trust others to make sure I'm okay. But I'm not afraid to try new things. I'm very adventurous. I love randomness and being happy and living life to the fullest. I'd be the first in line to jump out of an airplane or sing karaoke... even if I'm terrified to actually do it, I'd still be willing to try.

All in all, I think I'm qualified to add perspective. What I mean is, just because I don't slut around or drink or smoke or swear or have other vices that in my opinion are only a crutch for deeper and more personal issues... I can still be a voice of reason and comprehend the bigger picture.

And that's another thing. In a movie I watched recently, the main character finds out all these lies about people she thought she knew and when confronted with "Stop being so rational and tell me how you feel!" she replies "I feel lied to and I feel dirty..."

That's how I feel, a lot of the time. I feel dirty when I have to hear about these things that people are doing to themselves. Allowing people to walk all over them, allowing their insecurities to rule their life, allowing others to influence their opinions and behavior. They aren't gaining experience... that's not what being an adult is. So why do others feel the need to mark these mile stones... and worse, brag about them as if that would make them more popular? (Which is a whole other question: why be popular? that I may delve into sooner or later.)

I'm afraid of chaos and losing control, but most of all I'm afraid of people. They can be cruel and mean and deluded and jaded and begrudging and weak. And I'm not saying that I'm not either.

I frequently have a short temper, I can't tolerate other people's idiosyncrasies, I'm impatient and stubborn... and I have high standards. I have standards for others as well as myself, and I try very hard to live by those standards. When others fall short, I'm disappointed and annoyed.

So, I'm not perfect and I understand that no one is... but in situations where you can only see one side of an issue and someone with a perspective outside the situation, capable of seeing all sides, offers you advice... WHY NOT TAKE IT?

I don't want to pass up living life because I'm caught up in a personal drama. I try my best to see all sides of any problem and work through issues quickly. I like to be positive and I am comforted by my faith...

I don't want to have a sad story when I'm old and gray. I want to have lived a meaningful life where I was able to laugh at all the embarrassing moments, I was able to learn from all the mistakes, and I was able to adapt in as short a time as possible.

Tis the Season... an update!

So I've decorated and redecorated my miniature tree, the presents are bought and mostly wrapped, the countdown is counting, and I'm ready for a vaca... but there's no snow and I miss my family.

I do however get to see my sister this Christmas, which is a consolation, don't get me wrong! And I've never enjoyed being nagged by my mother or having to deal with the rest of the family while having to be cheery. So really, I'm not missing much.

But I am missing the atmosphere, the fire, the sounds of football and the smell of ham or turkey or some stew or other in the kitchen. I'm missing the colors; how the night sky is lit up with the reflection of twinkle lights and the moon, so bright it's nearly daylight. How I could go outside and play with my dog until both of our hair is matted with snow... red cheeked and frozen eared. And that feeling of thawing out, when your legs are ice cold and a hot bath makes your skin sting.

I miss wearing sweatshirts and jackets and scarves. I miss snuggling up to watch old time movies like Rudolph and White Christmas with my grandparents, who know stories about all the actors.

I miss sledding. I miss the smell of the space heater in the garage while my dad works on some project. I miss my mom singing along to Christmas CDs as she gets ready to go out to dinner, inserting crude lyrics every chance she gets. I miss being alone but not really alone. I miss blizzards and Egg Nog and skating and skiing and pine trees and Gram's fudge and road slush and roasted carrots and icicles and the sound of the tree clucking Jingle Bells at 6:30 when the timer turns on.

It just isn't Christmas here. Even with my demented little pink tree; and its creepy purple lights, white/silver ornaments, turquoise garland and origami foil star... haha

But I do have presents! I spent all day wrapping them. And sadly most of them are for me :) I used my birthday gift cards to buy myself xmas presents... and it works. If I don't pay much attention to what I'm wrapping, by the time Christmas rolls around, I've forgotten what I got myself and it's just like a surprise!

This morning I woke up to the sound of people talking below me. It felt like I was back home, waking up to the sound of mom and dad in the kitchen. But then I remembered I was here and went back to bed.

I've been so tired lately too. This week was torturous... I got snapped at by my boss via email (she's such a jerk), but then got to meet the director of the program I'm raising money for. We jumped from a $10 million goal, to $50 million!! But he was amazing and had some wonderful stories. I wish I could have followed him back to Hawaii just to hear more... and to learn some Hawaiian martial arts!

And now it's the weekend and I just need a breather but I can't seem to get comfortable. My lower back hurts and stupid me, I decided running nearly 8 miles yesterday would be a good thing. HA! I barely made it and now my legs are sore and my back hurts 10x worse. I'm old and fat... blech!

But hey... at least I made it that far. I need to tack on 5.5 more miles over the next 5 weeks... that's doable right? A little more than 1 mile extra per week until the half marathon on Jan 16. I can do it!! I just need to focus...

What I really need is the little red man with the button that will make me explode if I don't keep it up [that was a reference to a joke only my sister would understand hehe].

1.5 weeks til VACA!!

And tomorrow I'm going to drop in to beginning lindy hop...

Tango on Monday...

...and then??? WHO KNOWS!

But oooo good song! Corazon Sin Cara by Prince Royce... listen to it!

...see right through me

So I've got a new favorite song. Right Thru Me by Nicki Minaj...

And in my current mood, which is not happy, I wonder if anyone can. See through me, that is.

I don't think I'm extremely hard to read... but I am pretty closed about what's really going through my head. Oh sure, when I'm happy it pours out of me like water through a sieve. But when I'm unhappy or sad or angry or really any other unacceptable emotion I just bottle it up. I prefer to keep those thoughts to myself... er... well aside from typing them out on here or complaining to an innocent bystander who usually has no idea what's going on/doesn't care.

Which underscores my first point... I don't think I'm all that hard to read.

But I've never met anyone who knew what I needed and when. Like sometimes, I just need a hug. And no one ever realizes this... just because I'm cold and standoffish doesn't mean I don't like hugs! Or, I may be crazy outgoing around people I know but actually going out and meeting people for the first time is terrifying! But maybe I hide it well or something? I don't know, but I have yet to meet someone who can read me...

Which is weird because I feel as if I read people easily. Maybe I don't, I could be completely wrong! But, I get the feeling I know what people are thinking in certain situations and I know what they're going to say or how they're going to react. I can catch them, I can finish their sentences or .... I don't know, jump out of the way when they're about to explode.

What does it say about me that others can't connect with me like that? What does it say about me that I don't think others connect with me?

I don't do people well... I'm awful and mean and selfish and a horrible person. All I do is moan and complain and talk about myself... GAH!!!

Be kind to your web footed friends...

I'm bored out of my wits! I've never been so awfully bored, I don't think!

I have no friends, no projects, nothing at all to do but watch tv and read.

It's as if nothing has changed yet... compared to last summer. Or rather, I've traded friends and family and enjoyable things for work (albeit rewarding) and a lonely apartment.

I hope to God my life balances itself out soon. Why can't I have friends and a job????

Maybe I'll be able to meet people volunteering? That would be nice. Only, I have to wait and hear back first.

I wonder if the new girl will be cool or lame... not that I'm much of a judge. GAH! Why can't she be in our office?! Why do I have to be stuck with Victoria?! She's nice and all but extremely harsh and degrading at times.

I realize nothing in life is perfect, but for once, could I please just have a bit of luck??

22.8

Just finished watching Eat Pray Love. Why do movies like that always get me? The combination between traveling to foreign places, experiencing new things, meeting exciting people, and learning to look past the immediate... it's the whole idea of finding yourself and realizing there is something bigger out there than anything you could ever plan or accomplish yourself.

Under the Tuscan Sun was another of those movies or even A Good Year. The heroine (or hero) is older, past their prime, recovering from some horrific life experience, lost and confused. For some reason or other they find themselves in a foreign city... usually a romance capital... where they just can't seem to fit in. Where life is so vibrant and healthy and engaging around them. But they're stuck. They can't seem to get it together...

Slowly, though. They're learning. Their neighbor has a life lesson to share... a tidbit of information that cracks their outer shell of protection and lets a little light in. Something so wise that makes you hit yourself in awe and wonder why you'd never thought of it before.

They begin living by this new found insight. But they don't know it. They internalize it and start to change, grow.

By the end, they may not have fixed any of their problems, but they don't seem like problems any more. They have a new life to live and a new love who makes it all seem worthwhile and you end up leaving the movie with this mix of emotions.

On one hand, you look around and start to see yourself from that new perspective. You have health and life and opportunity. You are able to go out and enjoy the world in one of those uplifted spirit, feel-good moments. But on the other hand... you feel, deep down inside, an inkling of despair.

Nothing like that is going to happen to you. You're never going to travel and meet friends who will turn into family. No man of your dreams is going to sweep you off your feet and into his arms and heart. So what's the point.

I hate that feeling... because about 95% of me is battling with the other chunk... about 95% is telling that depressed 5% to shut up. My whole body feels out of balance.

And I think maybe 24% of that 95, which is currently floating around my apartment thinking of all the possibilities and daydreaming about what lucky chances are coming my way... a good hefty 24% really believes it could happen.

Well... not as dramatically... I don't think my life will be winning an Oscar any time soon, but I feel as if something is happening. I just don't know what it is.

Since moving here, the pieces of my life-puzzle have been falling into place. Er... with a few nudges here and there. After a long September month of dread and crying and emotional upheaval, I finally felt as if it were the right thing to do. As if I'm meant to be here.

Now when I start to feel even the slightest bit scared or worried or stressed or sad... I let it go. I say to myself, why worry? I'm meant to be here and I know that, so everything is going to work out exactly as it should. And to tell you the truth, it's a heck of a lot easier than it sounds. To let go of the worry, that is.

(No seriously, spend some time and think about where you're meant to be. Even if it's at Starbucks on a Friday night. Once you've realized that, you're able to ignore all the snags you hit along the way because you just know they won't cause you a problem in reaching your destination.)

And now, after watching EPL, I'm gonna let go of that 5% of self loathing that I usually play into after a movie like that... and go with the 24% of true gut feelings.

24% of 95% (which is actually about 22.8% of my whole being) of me says this is a year for learning, meeting people, experiencing new things, travel, and hopefully... if all goes well... cracking open that outer shell to let in some light.

And you know what? I think I'm right.

Lonely

So it's been a while and I feel the need to vent.

I'm officially in Phoenix. Not a place I would have chosen for myself... if I had a choice. My apartment, while large and safe, has bug problems and carpet smells. The front office is never open when I'm home and the fitness center is always closed.

But other than that, I really can't complain.

My job, however, is AMAZING! I am doing the most wonderfully fulfilling work I have ever done in my entire life. I get to manage my own time as I see fit, with minimal supervision. I am able to give myself my own deadlines and turn in my own deliverables according to my own project plan... that I chose to create of my own accord. BUT, I get to tap the knowledge and experience of a woman who has been in the business for over 25 years. If I need to learn something, she will pay for my education.

For instance, I mentioned that I had found a book on social networking in regards to non-profits and she bought me the book! I get to go to a day long grant writing seminar for free! And, she's going to introduce me to some of her connections who will be able to pass on expertise in fields I'm unfamiliar with, like business, marketing, and design!

I want her job. I want to be her! She's my new idol and I just pray I'll be able to impress her! Like right now, I am running behind on my second deadline. I intended to do 2 weeks of background research and then prepare a needs assessment report based on my findings. It's now currently 8 solid pages and I have at least 2 more to go. I've gotta crank those out tomorrow and then have mom look them over so I'm able to turn in a pristine and well edited report.

And none of that... "oh how childish to have your mom edit your papers" crap. Because even professors publishing journal articles have editors and my mother is not only free, but extremely smart when it comes to the written word. So there :P

Anyways, I am so excited for the work I'll be doing! And even though some of it is tedious and boring... it'll all be worth it in the end!

The biggest problem has been having no friends. I get so lonely! And there really haven't been anyone my age around. They're all old women. I do have a handful of acquaintances whom I met at PSO training, though. And they each live between 2 and 6 hours away. I was able to visit one about two weeks ago and go horse riding, even.

But in general I'm so alone.

So when they all wanted to come into town for the weekend, I thought heck yea! let's do it! and had them drive up on Friday. Last night (Saturday) they wanted to do a halloween/clubbing thing which sounded like good fun since I love dancing... but my second thought was how much they would be drinking.

I told them straight off the bat, rule number 1) no puking in my apartment! But what do they go and do? Oh, that's right... get shitfaced and start puking in the club - get us kicked out! So our (my!) night is cut short and we have to deal with drunken drama. God, they are so immature. And of course the entire time they're talking about how living on the Res is so awful, and there is no drinking, and there are no guys... on and on... and frankly, as good as I have it, if I could keep my job but live on a Res, I would. Two girls get to live in the mountains with people their own age and get to be in a community and learn a new culture and language and see the stars.

I'm not complaining, but it would have been nice to experience that, too.

So the whole time I have to listen to them complain, and yes I understand that not all circumstances are preventable... but for the ones that are, they have no reason to be complaining about them. And as for not being able to get wasted on a regular basis... GOOD!

BECAUSE THEY CAN'T HOLD THEIR LIQUOR!

and to top it off, I quote: "The Res is awful, there are no hot men... and sometimes a girl wants a big hard cock in her" [insert giggling]

WTF?

And this wasn't said in a funny, I'm drunk sort of way... or an I'm serious, fact sort of way... no, it was said in a how can I be the most shocking so everyone thinks I'm cool and grown up sort of way. There was nothing genuine about these girls. They are two-faced, immature, attention getters.

And I just wish I could find a friend...

But on a happier note, while at a career fair on a Res about an hour from here, I met a guy who ran a therapy riding stable and who needed help on the weekends! So maybe I'll have the chance to work with horses and meet some people with less superfluous interests at the same time!

Losing Nothing

I think with change, the hardest part is knowing you won't get to have your usual routine, do the same things, see the same people. You have to rely on memories... that's the trigger. That's why change is so scary for me. I'm afraid my memories won't be enough. Like I'll lose something good and then forget what good even felt like. I rarely think of it in a positive light.

I have to remind myself that I'll always have my memories (at least until I suffer from Alzheimer's but even then... I won't remember that there was something to remember, so I won't be sad). And when have I ever left something good behind without replacing it with something good or even better? Never, I don't think.

I was always sad and nervous when I started a new school - elementary to middle, middle to junior high, and so on. But I never regretted those changes. When I was a kid, I'd cry myself to sleep over thoughts of death and fires and loss. I cried when I was 6 at my babysitter's wedding, when I couldn't understand the concept of a honeymoon. I thought she was leaving forever. In high school, once I realized that my parents wouldn't spontaneously combust into a pile of ash and flame, I would morn the loss of my youth... letting stress and fear of the unknown cause me to panic.

It's funny now to think about how sad and worried I was to be turning 13. I thought being a teenager was horrible, being that much closer to death. Well... I still feel that way. That song 100 Years gets me every time because when you think about it, 100 years isn't so very long at all.

But at what point have you ever stopped and said, God I wish I hadn't gone to college, studied abroad, gotten a job... I mean sure we all have our regrets. I wish I wasn't such a lazy slob all the time, wish I had lost weight in high school, wish I'd gotten better grades etc. But I don't regret going to Central. Central was some of the best years of my life. I learned to be me at Central. And while I cried on my way to New Zealand... I had the time of my life there! I cried when I left it, too.

I have abandonment issues. I'm afraid that when I leave, I'll leave everything and everyone and all my memories behind. But as I sit here in my bed on my last day (potentially) as a "young adult." I'm thinking... this must be where I'm meant to be. I can feel it. I'm sad to be leaving, I'm worried I won't be welcome home with my parents, I'm worried my friends will forget me and move on with their lives before I come back. But... I guess... what kind of life have I lived if that were the case?

What I mean is, my life is like plow. It's unruly and hard to manage and is usually pulled along but some force - fate - but my life has weight to it. It's heavy. And the world is soil. And whether it's soft, rich, or hard as rock... the plow is going to scratch at the surface. My life has weight and I've left a trail or trench or whatever. I think that even if I were to lose everything. I'd still have something.

But then, why do I have to lose anything? I'm only a year's experience and 2000 miles away from home. In this day and age, that's nothing.

Ask and You Shall Receive

Don't ever let it be said that I haven't acknowledged the power of prayer. Because as cliche as it sounds, it's true. Prayer is pretty darn cool... even for those who don't believe in a higher power, it's been proven to benefit moods and outcomes (along the line of self fulfilling prophecies). This is because prayer can be cathartic, a release of pent up emotion. It can make you feel as if you're being listened to, give you a boost of confidence by voicing thoughts and naming goals that you wouldn't have otherwise. And it can help you realize and focus your efforts on the most pressing or immediate problem.

That said, I think there is more to it than that. Someone is listening. Someone with a sense of humor :)

I read a story recently about a guy who wanted to be more loving, to be more accepting, to be a better person in general. He prayed day and night for one thing - for God to open his heart and for him to have a sign when he did. A year later, God did just that! The guy had to have open heart surgery.

Over a year ago I asked God via facebook if I could have 5 things. I said:
1) I need adventure
2) I need to meet new people
3) I need to travel
4) I need to get out on my own, and
5) I need a tan

Now, what are the chances that I would be granted every single one of those things in one fell swoop? Especially if there were no God!? (Atheists boggle my mind!) In less than a week I will be traveling cross country, to the Valley of the Sun in a state I have never been to before, in which I will live and work for an entire year. If that doesn't meet my criteria, I don't know what will!! (In previous posts, you may have noticed I was terrified about this possibility. But last week during training, I really came to grips with the idea and my crazy grandmother solidified my resolve. She keeps thinking I'm going to school, and the thought of me only being gone for two semesters makes me feel much more confident and a lot less scared... I've been gone for two semesters before!)

Furthermore, at the beginning of the year I wrote:

"I'm one step closer to finding the perfect job! I can feel it in my bones, this is my year to move out and make money! I just know that I'll hear something from someone... or find the perfect job to apply for! And then I can live independently and meet new people, make new friends, possibly a boyfriend which would be splendid! I can see it now, an almost adult-like life! I'll be able to pay off bills!! And see a doctor!! And save some money for a grand trip to New Zealand or Ireland to visit the places in my calendar!!

This is my year... I can feel it!!"

Now, I can honestly say that it's true. I did find the perfect job (albeit one that doesn't pay well but is at least anthropological!!). I will make money (albeit barely enough but still I'll get to move out and my loans will go into forbearance and will be one less thing to worry about). I will pay off my bills (I get my 5,000 towards loans in addition to accrued interest taken care of). I will live independently and I have already met new people (still working on the boyfriend bit, but at this point I'd settle for a date hehe). And I did see a doctor! Best part, I'll be done with my year of service mid-October 2011. With all the connections I'm going to make I'll have a job lined up to start by mid or end of November. Which means... I will still be able to spend at least 3 weeks in New Zealand during the Rugby World Cup!! 

Everything I asked for (sans possible bf) has come true!! And not just for me... for the people I've prayed for as well. 

I prayed one night after a long discussion with a friend, that she would realize she has something to offer. I prayed she would gain confidence and that she would realize guys might like her for just who she is. I found out that the following night, some random at a bar came up to her, told her he loved [certain barely noticeable features], and started making out with her. She may read this and still not believe she's anything special... but I asked and she received a blatantly obvious (and hilarious) answer!

I even prayed that my brother-in-law would be more active and participate with my sister - they went and painted pottery!

So now I'm on a roll... anything I can pray for you?

PSO

It's the night before I fly to New Mexico for my Pre-Service Orientation with AmeriCorps VISTA.

When I was little I used to get so excited for vacations, travel, holidays... I'd spend all night anxious for the next morning. These were usually painful, sleepless nights of tossing and turning. I'd wake up several times having to remind myself to calm down, that my alarm was set. Then, with anywhere from 15 minutes or an hour to spare, I'd jump out of bed fully awake and ready to go.

Over the years, I've gotten better at controlling this excitement. I don't let myself get worked up over plans and itineraries. But tonight, I can feel myself getting worked up. Not so much in the physical sense, but emotionally. This is hard to explain...

I keep running through everything about going: the reasons why, my objectives while I'm down there, my end goals, the escape route. I weigh and re-weigh the pros and cons. And sometimes I get to thinking, why the hell am I even bothering to do this? Then some inner part of me replies, because you have nothing else and won't ever get anything else.

I don't know if that's true. Whatever. But as much as I hate my life as it is right now... having this whole potential shake up is wreaking havoc on me. I get to thinking that I don't really want to go and I find me trying to convince myself that I should go. That I have to be a risk taker because that's the only way to experience life. Then I start tottering on that mental precipice where behind me lies a flat desert of my safe and boring life, while beneath my toes and as far as the eye can see stretches a giant canyon of the unknown.

But in this instance, when at any other time I'd confront my mother for support, I already know what she'll say... "Then don't go."

She's been trying this entire month to throw me off balance. Although, if you were to straight up ask her, she'll deny it. Perhaps it's subconsciously, but everything she says and does seems to say, YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE!

And hearing that, underlying every comment, is like an ice pick chipping away at my resolve. What I need to hear is encouragement. That'll even if I do make a mistake, that I can always come home.

Dad is so much better at that. He understands that I can't stay here forever.

So on this night, waiting to pass out from exhaustion, my emotional state is pretty flimsy. While every nerve in my body is jumping at the chance to travel, see new sites, have an adventure... every synapse in my brain is firing "failure! loss! regret!"

What am I doing, going to another state to live in poverty for a year? What will become of me if I don't go?

PS... I know my blog has started to majorly suck. But my predicament is starting to sap the life out of me. I promise I'm not going emo, but at the moment this is all I can think about. Happier things to come!! (I hope)

Shipwrecked

I'm scared and overwhelmed and tired. I feel like I'm swirling around in a pitch black ocean after a torrential rain storm massacred my one-man sailboat, and the rip tide keeps sucking me under. And when something new comes along in the flotsam - some new thought or idea or task on my to-do list - I feel like an ice cold wave with cut glass surf is speeding towards me, crashing over my head and suffocating me with sharp needles. I can't catch my breath and the pressure on my chest makes my heart pound.

I'm unable to focus on a single thought and my mind sprints a hundred miles per hour down my stream of consciousness between one moment and the next. I panic.

I coach myself on breathing techniques and throw my brain a life raft - in the form of television - anything to stop my mind from thrashing about. But it just prolongs the problem while deadening my sensitivity to the symptoms. What I really need is help, guidance, support, a safety net of a million dollars (but at this point even a hug would be nice).

I'm scared of being alone, but it isn't even that. I'm just overwhelmed and I'm scared of failure. I'm scared of leaving everything I've known to try something completely new, in a new environment, with new people. I'm scared of having to make new friends. I'm scared that my friends will forget me or I'll never see them again because by the time I get back they'll have all moved on with their lives... not want to come back and visit.

I'm worried I won't be able to do the job, that I'll get fired? No... not fired, but that I won't get a good recommendation for a future position. Hell, that I won't even get a future position and be back on my parents' couch. I'm just so tired of worrying.

I need to lay back and float a bit, ride out the waves or at least tread water long enough to keep my head above all the tasks I need to get done, and hope I don't hit a really rocky coastline...

Although, being marooned on a deserted, island paradise does sound wonderful right about now!

Didgeridoos Are Cool :D

OMG I found the most hilariously wonderful and disgustingly raunchy song ever. I love it!

Flower
Liz Phair

And the bass (or is that a didgeridoo?) in the background is crazy awesome! It makes me happy in a really simple minded sort of way :) hahaha

Listen to it!

Do I look like I Care? (sarcasm aside!!)

There must be something about me that makes others divulge their life stories. Why is it people feel the need to tell me the most random facts about themselves? Today I waited with my grandparents at the hospital for Grams' doctor appointment.

While there, I learned that a woman had been in a car accident where she was thrown 35 feet, landing on her head; was treated for back injury in Arizona (of all places!), but found out the surgeon had his license revoked and had caused her some damage; is currently being treated for a neck trauma of some sort and she doesn't really like her scar but what can she do?; they had her on pain meds, but she can't handle them and she doesn't like how loopy she gets when she takes them; has both a son and a daughter, but her daughter was murdered a number of years ago... a piece of the woman had died along with her and they have yet to catch her murderer; and she has come to realize that keeping faith in the Lord has left her better off than she had been before...

Now, I'm not saying I don't like hearing these stories. Actually, I love hearing them. Sometimes, when I'm driving down the road or in a really tall building I'll look out the window and see hundreds of people going about their business. Like little ants. It's amazing to think that each and every one of those people are sentient beings, who make their own choices, who have their own goals, their own problems... they could be suffering in any number of ways. I enjoy that perfectly random strangers are willing to confide in me. But why?

What is it about me that attracts these types of people. Sure I smile and make eye contact, but doesn't everyone? And I rarely find myself telling others (especially strangers) about myself. So why have I met hundreds of people who do just that? I don't know... but I like it.

"Mmm musk, sigh!"

What is it about guys who smell good?

Or rather, what is it about that scent? A friend of mine called me up to dissect her date with a guy she'd recently met and, sadly, the date was a bust. However, she did come away with two consolations. The first of which was spending a couple hours with his cat (she is a die hard cat fan who has been forced to leave her cat with her parents until she can locate another apartment). The second consolation was the fact that his musky cologne had permeated her shirt and was wafting towards her nose with every breeze from the window.

When she told me this through a silly, slightly drunken giggle, I was 1) immediately jealous and 2) transported to "fantasy land" where cowboys and rugged outdoorsmen run rampant. At which point I believe I said "Mmm musk, sigh!"

We both started laughing. And she brought up a good point - why is that smell so powerfully seductive? One can only imagine... because even on the lousiest date (he wore sweatpants and spent the entire night "adjusting" himself!) a man can still be attractive when wearing whatever scent it is men wear. Seriously, it's as if the smell evokes my "perfect man" no matter who is wearing it.

My house has played host to several different guys in the past, all of whom smell delicious. Most recently, a pilot (cough cough... maybe I should address uniforms in another blog?), who must have showered and/or spruced up before I went to bed because the hallway smelled wonderful! And my friend visiting from far off lands... well, let's just say I made up reasons to go in the bathroom when he'd finished showering! Even my sister's husband smells good from time to time :P
 
But WHY?

I mean, I understand natural "male" scents... that's pheromones and hormones and genetics; and are only cursory attractants. Musk though, is a whole other story. Musk is that heady scent that makes men's cologne smell so damn good. And after doing a fair bit of research because I'm truly interested to know why us girls love it so much, I still don't have an answer. What I do have is a list of facts from various resources that I'm not going to bother citing:

•   Women are 100x more sensitive to musk than men
•   It originates from a rectal gland of the Musk Deer and has been used as a fixative in perfume for centuries - the name itself is derived from a Sanskrit word meaning "testicle"
•   The term is now applied to many different substances that emit a similarly potent scent
•   It is naturally secreted by animals to attract mates
•   Males secrete a musk-like odor contained in Androstenol, a sex pheromone 
•   Ambergris, or aged sperm whale barf, has a natural musk that has been used as a fixative in perfume
•   Indole is another musky fixative, smelling of crap (no literally... feces) if overly concentrated. In fact, indole is in human feces, though can be extracted from plants or made chemically.
•   All this fixative stuff basically refers to a stabilizer that reduces evaporation of a perfume. It is essential to any cologne with the added benefit of being a "base note" in the scent compound
•   Dogs have glands in the face, rear end, and paws, as well as in hair follicles. Their paws in particular secrete a musk that I like to describe as a "puppy smell." I love this scent and it is especially noticeable when Lily falls asleep! So cute! 

Anyway, there you have it folks. It seems to me that the other scents like leather, sandalwood, vanilla, cedar, orange, cinnamon, etc etc that are layered on top of the fixative act to make the scent unique. And while they help to trigger memories that women associate with each scent, it is the musk that reels them in.

And God, how I love it!

P.S. those Axe commercials are completely true (albeit a bit over the top) when it comes to any guy scent - even if it's not Axe.

Tired of Not Being Tired

I am so wide awake. I am so flippin' wide awake. I could do something right now. I don't know what but something. I could go swimming right now if it weren't pitch black and freezing cold. Oh man, I want to go swimming so bad. Even if it is freezing.

Watched two shows today. Well really a movie and a TV show. The Movie was the new version of The Karate Kid. It makes me want to learn tae kwon do. A friend of mine does ju jitsu and is pretty good at it. And I'm so jealous. I want to be able to move like that. All stealthy. Except for the beating people up thing... I always end up hurting people, I'm too forceful or something. I don't know my own strength and then people end up hating me. So I guess, I don't want to have to fight anyone. But I want to be agile and turn everyday things into weapons. Haha! Like in the movies, how the bad guys all carry guns but the good guy can take them down with a picture frame and a throw pillow.

The TV show was a new series on the CW called Hellcats. It's about cheerleading and made me miss my "glory" days (read here: horrible high school experience). Even though I hated almost everyone on my team (the feeling was probably mutual), I still felt apart of something. And of course, I love that sort of atmosphere... the super charged, sporting event atmosphere where everyone is happy and exuberant and probably slightly drunk. I love being in a crowd of people who are all supporting the same effort, all experiencing the same thing. And what better way to have an excuse for being peppy and energetic.

It is one of my favorite feelings in the whole world - the crackling energy that builds in a crowd on game day.

God, I'm so awake. I'm really thirsty too. I want to go for a swim. If it were warmer I'd go skinny dipping, seeing as it's pitch black outside. I've always wanted to go skinny dipping. And sky diving. I don't know if I'd have the guts to go sky diving, but I still want to try. Ooo and bungy jumping!

Today must be a day for reminiscing. I got on MSN, and a friend from ages ago popped up to chat. He is from my "Asian Persuasion" team... I miss them too! They were so nice and made me laugh. It was so good getting to know them. I miss being apart of something... anything. On a team in general.

I just miss having things to do. I feel like I'm wasting my life... which is probably why I've had such trouble sleeping. How can I sleep after such a pitifully unproductive day? Last night I had to take some sleeping pills just to feel tired and ended up sleeping in a drugged stupor until noon... which has now thrown me off tonight! Gah!

This has to stop soon... it just has to!

Ketchup

I've been meaning to blog for a while, but haven't had the gumption to actually do it. I also have a lot to talk about, but haven't been in the mood to post several blogs (let alone one). However, since I've got nothing better to do, I figure I might as well get down to brass tacks. (Who says that anyways?) Therefore, I'm serving up a 4 course meal... during what will hopefully be a very brief blog update.

For starters, my goal to monitor my daily caloric intake tanked. This was not however due to any failure on my part. I actually made it 2.5 whole weeks and lost the 5 pounds I gained back since being home... so technically, you could say it was a success. In reality, I went back to Chicago for the weekend and had difficulty tracking everything I was eating - not to mention how many calories. But, let me tell you! If you have the chance to eat at La Fonda Latino Grille, do it! So delicious!

That is a whole other story, though. Why I was in Chicago, I mean. I had an interview with a Catholic organization that really put my salad in a toss. I should have been excited for this interview, should have been nervous... and sure I was nervous, but for all the wrong reasons. Reasons which will be discussed shortly. For now, just believe me... I was not very enthusiastic in having this interview. When I arrived (early) I was made to sit and wait... fine whatever, but then when he finally does get around to talking to me it was so self important. He was a braggart and straightforward to the point of being rude. And while two of the four people were tolerable (even nice) the fourth person was a complete jerk! AND... the one I'd be saddled with. After leaving the interview, the job sounded fairly interesting... but the people [GAG ME] were awful! The clincher was that if I were offered the job I'd have to take it and that is a very VERY depressing thought.

Along those lines, for the main event (or rather entree), the reason I was "ify" going into that interview was because I had already been offered a job! YAY! But it's never that simple is it? After over a year of waiting to have even a handful of interviews, I finally get two interviews in the same week. 1) A high paying entry level job in a career field I'm only quasi-enthusiastic about or 2) an exceptionally low paying job in a non-profit organization working with Native Americans in a position that has been my dream ever since my mother told me what "Anthropology" was.

This job... my dream job... even if up to this point I hadn't a clue what I truly wanted to do with my life, is exactly what I could see myself doing for the rest of my life. I had been terrified before this interview because it would be such a commitment. An entire year of living in squalor, being at the beck and call of people who may turn out to be using me for my naivete and willingness to work for basically free. I'd have to move to another state (potentially one that I will hate, seeing as this state is practically the desert!), meet new people and survive on less than I would make as a sales associate.

But after that interview, when they offered me the job, when I realized God obviously wants me to consider this option, I felt good... happy... rejuvenated and excited. I WOULD BE WORKING IN AN ANTHROPOLOGICAL POSITION!!! This is what dreams are made of! After all that rigmarole that I put myself through in my master's program, I'm finally back to my roots and to what I have always loved... people, history, culture.

So I prayed. I asked for guidance and a sign. Short of hearing God talk to me (one can only hope, right?), I'd settle for being offered the position that I was meant to take. Which is why Friday night, when I got home, I burst into tears when Mom wanted to know the details. How could I turn down a position that would pay me enough to live completely independently?! What if I was offered the money?? Could money make me happy?! No, but it sure could make my life easier. I'd have to deal with those jerks every day for the next year at least. I'd have to brown nose, and follow directives, and read and abide by strict regulations. I'd have to be a peon in an organization that (sorry, Catholics) thinks they're high and mighty... God's right hand men. The guy who interviewed me sang to me! Who does that? He scanned my resume and cover letter, adopted a retention policy, enacted access restrictions, and gave it metadata tags! And then he proceeded to offer me tips on how to improve what he considered a "stretch of the imagination" (ie. my cover letter)!! I felt like crying and could imagine my hair falling out at this organization (whether due to mindless stress or because I've pulled it out in frustration, I have yet to figure out).

And so, I had been so happy knowing that I had my dream (if underpaid) job to fall back on. But it was too good to be true. Shortly there after, I find myself in my initial doldrums. I can't take that job. How could I live? My parents say they don't want to support me but that's exactly what they'd be doing anyway if I were sitting on their couch here at home for another year. I can't do that...

Why is it that I am offered a job doing meaningful work that will benefit a lot of people while giving me invaluable experience and powerful connections, and I can't logically accept it?

Why would God put a plate of food in front of me, and then expect me to eat crumbs off the floor? Or maybe I have the wrong perspective, maybe these jobs are the crumbs and I have yet to see the feast?

I don't know but I've been so stressed lately, so tired, so teary eyed (which I continue to blame on my new medication although I know that probably isn't true at this point). I just need help, and support, and a chance. That's all I ask!

And now... because that was a bit hard to digest. A lighter, more fanciful discourse (hehe... get it? dis-COURSE?)... The dessert :)

I want two dresses. Two sexy dresses in which I slay every man within sight. The first, a little black dress that hugs all my sexy features, enhances those in need, and hides whatever is left. Something slimming and versatile. That I can throw on for a date or an opening gala event. I will wear killer heels that show off my mega long legs and my hair will be done perfectly! This dress is going to have them salivating!!

The second, will be a sexy red dress. It's the dress that will reel them in. It's going to be loud yet subtle. Over the top yet understated. A red dress that will have guys primal-lusting for me left and right. This dress is the dress I'm going to be asked out in, hit on in, having drinks in, flirting with the bartender in... and of course... more long legs, perfect hair, and guys drooling!

Weigh In

It is time for my weekly weigh in! This day is a bit of a ritual for me, fun and frightening at the same time. I usually lay in bed thinking why the hell am I awake when I could be asleep? but then I remember! Weigh in!! So I jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom. Not my parent's bathroom (which has the medical scale... a much more trusted device than any digital scale), but to my own. I use the bathroom (because as we all know, waste weighs a lot) and then I do some stretches to get the muscles moving.

Lactic acid build up makes me feel stiff and heavy. Stretching eases the stiffness and makes me feel lighter. I wait until my muscles are limber before ever stepping on the scale. Whether it's a proven fact or just a theory, I'm not going risk weighing even .25 lbs more than I already do due to lactic acid.

I head to my parents bathroom and lock the door then use the toilet again... just in case. I remove any article of clothing that could add weight, including my hairband. I have another strange belief that I weigh more when my hair is piled on top of my head rather than just down. This one probably isn't as scientific as my last theory, but any girl can tell you how light her head feels after a major hair cut... so I know it must weigh something. And I feel better when its weight is dispersed around my shoulders rather than pushing down on top of my head (think surface area and its effect on psi).

Lastly, I set the scale to well above my current weight. I love sliding the heavy metal pieces down millimeter by millimeter... each number I pass makes me feel like I've really achieved something.

Now, without moving any more than is necessary, I step gently onto the scale. The balance wobbles a bit and then slams to the bottom (meaning the weight is too heavy!). Using my sliding method, I ease the metal piece to the left. Slowly, vveerryy slowly, I test each inch and half inch. Holding completely still to make sure there is no wobbling.

Eventually though, the balance does wobble and lifts minutely off the base. My efforts slow down even more, this time stopping on every quarter inch. I do this until the balance unfortunately slams into the top (meaning you've gone too far, come back). I have to slide the weight to the right again until the balance is neutral - suspended mid air between the top and bottom base.

But miraculously! On today of all days! After a week of watching my caloric intake! I see results!! I've lost 4.75 pounds!!! This could be water, this could be because I've eaten less than usual, this could be a fluke... but right now, after a week of hard work (and it was hard work), I have lost weight!!

Based on new calculations, I am only allowed 1730 calories per day. And reviewing my log from this past week, I can see I need more protein, vegetables and water. Also, I've given up on marking hunger/satisfaction... it's just too annoying.

When the Going Gets Tough...

It's hard to keep your head above water when it feels like all of your efforts are just dragging you under even more. Like in quicksand, how the harder you struggle to free yourself the further down you're going to sink. Mechanically, that's because the sediments (sand) are saturated with water such that the pressure forcing the sand together and up (friction) is equal to the pressure forcing it down and apart.

Upset this balance (say, with your body) and the greater pressure pushing down will win out. Thrashing around will only disrupt the balance further and you'll probably sink all that much faster.  As your feet settle into the muck, the space you've filled forms a vacuum. In order to pull yourself out you need to allow air to fill the void you're feet have created. It is the same with a glass ketchup bottle, the ketchup can't come out until air goes in...

Easily remedied, ketchup bottles work better when you've tipped them on an angle. Same thing needs to happen when you pull yourself out of quicksand - change your angle, allow air to replace your feet, then slowly pull yourself out. Because your body is bouyant, altering your surface area allows you to float on top of the saturated sediment. And with gentle movements across the sand you can effectively get out.

Lately, I've been struggling with life. And I feel like I'm stuck in quicksand. Every time I fill out an application, I get turned down. Every time I make a phone call, I get the answering machine. Every time I work towards something outside my control, it falls through. And I get frustrated and depressed.

Maybe I need to change my angle and stop struggling if this is where I'm meant to be. I don't mean just float along, but, I don't know, get a different perspective.

I know this brother and sister who used to fight constantly. Probably still do. But whenever they would get mad, just as they were about to snap at each other, I'd tell them to say nice things. As if it were a game. I told them that whenever they felt the need to call each other names or swear or whatever... that they should think up some compliment or apology to say instead.

It was hilarious because whenever I stopped the sister from snapping, she'd compliment herself! And whenever I caught the brother from snapping back, he'd apologize that she had some huge flaw that was out of her power to fix. Which would inevitably have them laughing and voila... problem solved.

I feel like I need to do this in the mirror. Whenever I think up some awful thought about myself I need to compliment myself instead. Whenever something happens that is out of my control, I should be thankful of what I have instead of wishing I had more and being depressed about it.

Sure I don't have a job and no body wants to hire me on who-knows-what basis, since they haven't even bothered to get to know me. But that doesn't mean I'm stupid or my life is a failure. I know I'm smart... for one, I give great advice. I pride myself on being observant and seeing all sides of a situation. I am comfortable in my own skin and that right there is a major accomplishment since it's taken me years to get to that point.

For another, I'm safe and live in a loving family (even if they drive me crazy most of the time!). And they hold me to higher standards than I'd ever set for myself... which, while painful, can be a good thing as it forces me to work hard.

I have faith in God and even though I'm currently doubting myself and beliefs, I can see him working through the people around me. Bringing me what I need... not necessarily what I want. And when I ask, I always get an answer. Even if I can't see it right away; when I do see it, it comes together like puzzle pieces - perfectly aligned. Sometimes I just have to remind myself, I'm here for a reason. I'm stuck for a reason. Or rather, I feel stuck for a reason... but in reality I'm not.

And last, when I'm stressed... not just frustrated but truly, tearfully, depressingly stressed (something that I have rarely been before, but am increasingly of late); I can take a deep breath, stretch out, close my eyes for a minute, and find a different angle. Then get back to pulling myself out of the muck.

Caloric Intake

Okay, so... since coming home from Chicago, I have been eating up a storm (and gaining weight, to boot. At least 5 pounds). It doesn't help that I have almost any type of food I could ever want right in the kitchen. Nor does it help that my mother is an amazing (if kooky) cook, enjoys cooking, and makes enough leftovers to feed a small army (which is sometimes exactly how I feel when I'm hungry).

Actually, I eat like a guy - or so I've been told. It's awful. This past week I went camping with my friend and her family, and they kept trying to feed me. Offering me second helpings or just plopping food on my plate. I laugh and complain and put on a show (but secretly, I'm still hungry and am glad they're forcing an extra scoop of eggs on me). At dinner one night - granted it was after a long day of kayaking/swimming/biking/etc - we have burgers with beans, kielbasa, and watermelon. Before dinner I have at least 4 slices of watermelon. I eat a burger topped with onions, a tomato, and a glob of ketchup. I have a whole half of kielbasa mixed in a serving (or two) of beans. Then finish up with more watermelon and am still hungry, opting for trail mix on the ride home (a mere 40 minutes later)!

I'm literally starving when I start dinner and just keep on eating. And I even jokingly apologize for having eaten a quarter of the melon! But they don't mind at all, saying, "Don't worry about it. You make up for T's brother... he eats a ton."

Now, I know that wasn't a jibe at me. I'm sure they meant he'd be sitting there eating more than me, but even so, it shouldn't have come to that. I HAVE to start watching what I eat. Mid-June, I finally reached my lowest weight ever since reaching adolescence. I can NOT gain it back. And I refuse to let these last 5 pounds slip by unnoticed.

THEREFORE:

I am going to get anal... again!

As I'm sure I've stated in previous posts, it takes 21 days to form a habit. I now floss daily because of this interesting rule, and literally revolt at the thought being unable to. I now run daily and severely regret not raising my heart-rate for at least 20 minutes a day on days I feel too tired/ill/full to run. It has become this itch I need to scratch. Some nights I'll sit on the couch dreading my run, but inevitably I get up and do it. I have to, it's a bad habit!

Now! In an effort to fix my eating habits, I will be keeping a food journal for the next 21 days since these have been proven to augment weight-loss. It will hold me accountable just as keeping my jogging calendar has. I will track all food, water throughout the day, hunger and satisfaction on a scale of 1 to 10, and total calories imbibed.

I have also calculated that at my age, height, and weight with a sedentary activity level my resting metabolic rate requires 1801 calories per day. In order to maintain my current weight (EW!), I need to eat 2251... I'm not sure why that is, I assume that the extra 450 calories are used when walking to the fridge to eat more food.

In order to lose weight at a safe but decent rate, you have to eat 500 calories less than your estimated daily caloric needs. In other words, enough to sustain your resting metabolism but less than what you need to perform vigorous exercise. Your body then burns fat stores (YAY!) while preventing your metabolism from slowing down. Now, all this changes if you perform vigorous activity on a daily basis to start. A construction worker for instance may use more calories in a day and therefore would have a higher threshold. Subtracting 500 calories from his daily intake would still result in a higher calorie diet... whereas, my diet results in 1751 calories per day.

This is doable. I need to plan out how and when to get these calories. The trick is not to eat less than that amount or my metabolism will slow and I'll plateau again. Likewise, I'll need to eat every 4 or 5 hours to fuel that furnace, and I'll have to try REALLY hard not to eat more than my allotted caloric intake.

Come August 26th, this will be a no brainer (or so I hope)! Let the games begin!

A Day in my Life: a photo project

As requested, I have decided to beat boredom by documenting my life via random pictures. We'll see how this goes:

9:32 - I wake up and stare at the ceiling, wondering why the hell do I bother. Oh right! Picture Project day! I have to find my camera... which is lying on the floor next to me.

9:45 - I stumble into the bathroom and switch out my glasses for contacts. Take meds, etc... then head downstairs.













10:00 - Lily's waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. Er... rather she's lying there because it's the coldest spot in the house and doesn't move when I get closer so I pretend she's waiting for me. But she's still happy to see me and so I usually give her a rub down to say hello. She's a good puppy! And today I'm taking her for a walk. Poor thing, doesn't get out to do much especially when it's hot. The rents don't exercise her as much as she should be.

10:15 - Check to see if Dad is on the computer... nope. Then, mom at her desk? nope. Which means they're both out doing stuff and aren't around to nag me. Dad doesn't nag like mom, though. I just feel like I have to be productive when he's being productive.

 10:17 - Ah... he's watching Tour De France. It's a summer ritual and it drives me nuts! Sooo boring! And my work station (aka the couch) is in here so there's no escaping the cycling. I turn on my computer and complete the requisite email/fb/job board/hulu update check.

10:45 - No email, no shows in my hulu queue. Some new updates on fb though: a friend put up a pic showing how much weight she lost (yay! and also jealous!), 2 others have sonograms from their recent baby doc appointments (again, jealous) and a third just got a job. Thank god my sis called to interrupt the pity party...

11:29 - Head to the kitchen to make breaky. Yum! Mini Wheats and some of my dad's zucchini bread (straight out of the garden!) plus another pill. (And no, I don't usually have breaky pre-made... I just forgot to get a full view of the kitchen. Though it reminds me of when mom was on sabbatical and did pre-make our breakfasts... but that was back when we used to get along)

12:05 - Head upstairs to get dressed. I need to make that bed, but it hasn't been terribly comfy lately so I've been staying in the other room on the air mattress. Then took a shower.                                  

12:52 - Sneak into the rents bedroom to find some Top Coat.

1:01 - Took Lils out to get the mail. She's such a good pups, doesn't leave the yard even when I walk with her. She'll only leave if you take her down the driveway and give her permission!

1:13 - Oo yay! Mail! But first... a walk to the library :)

1:15 to 2:00 - A very long trek up to the library. Past the old horse field (that tree I used to climb and has a ton of carvings on it), past CVS which used to be Arbor Drugs back in the day (used to bike there as a kid... back when you didn't need a bike lock), past one of the oldest houses in Novi. And finally, the library! I hook Lily up on the park bench just outside the door so I can run in and grab the book I put on hold.

2:17 to 2:54 - Lils is so ready to get home! Look at her tug! Gave her a lot of water to boot :)

3:10 - Made myself some lunch. LOVE WATERMELON!! Then to open my mail. A friend is having a house warming party... kinda nervous about going alone, though :S

3:36 to 4:04 - After checking my email again, I decide to go read my new book... but uh... ended up falling asleep for a bit! But hate to sleep so I went to grab some tea for a little pick me up.

4:05 to 9:30 - Wanted to stretch a bit and get in some crunches, but inevitably Lily comes over to play. Playing for her involves nipping my toes and pulling out my hairbands. I have so many bruises :) but they're the good kind... reminds me of summer. When I had enough of that, went for a jog! Took some Advil before hand and did well.

10:30 - Love that feeling when it's hot outside but you don't start sweating bullets until you get into air conditioning. I never understood why that was (perhaps because when it's hot out your sweat dries too fast to notice), but I kinda love it after a jog. Was excited to go record it in my calendar!

12:01 - After more emailing/fbing/huluing/job hunting, I did the dishes, brushed my teeth, took my pills, and went to bed. Such a long and harrowing day (NOT!). Sadly, this is pretty much my existence. Some days I do even less! I really need a job!!