Getting easier???

The scale was up yet again this morning. Only four more pounds until I reach my own personal line in the sand. (yes, I'm working with a narrow margin here, so shoot me) And if it gets to that line, I will either strive to level off and maintain there, or I will go back to basics to ensure just a little comfort room. I do not feel out of control and I do not feel as though I'm overindulging or returning to my old bad habits. I nibble more than I did while losing, but I'm nibbling on healthy foods, so I feel okay with that. I am simply allowing slightly more freedom with my normal foods and not being quit so stringent with the carb and fat content and portion sizes. I am trying to find a new normal that allows me to relax more and get comfortable with this as a lifestyle. I'm tired of panicking at the idea of trying a new restaurant and not knowing if I'll be able to find something that I feel like I can have, or at the prospect of eating a meal made by someone else and not being able to control how it's prepared. I don't want to do it anymore, it has gotten old and I'm done. I want to know that I have sense enough to select the healthiest options I can, and in the correct portions and not be left freaked out because I don't know exactly what just went into me. In real life people don't always know, let alone care. In real life people eat because they're hungry (among other reasons) and don't (always) replay what they just ate over and over in their minds wondering just how much fat was really in that. Of course, I'll never be like those people because I have food addictions and compulsions and am wired differently, but I'd like to think that I can at least feel in control and not completely psycho about my out there eating habits all the time. I am consciously trying to move away from my weight and eating issues encompassing my whole life and everything I do in it. I feel like I may be entering some sort of a transition period as it pertains to my new(er) lifestyle. I actually think I may eventually be able to feel somewhat normal (normal for my anyway) about how I live to stay healthy now. Perhaps Mrs. Jim (from 3fc) isn't blowing smoke up our asses after all, maybe it really does get easier with time. Go figure. But you know what? No matter how much I try to sugar coat or justify it, the simple fact is, the scale is up a total of five pounds now... holy shit!

Aw man, I feel like crap! What's up with that? I guess it's a cold, but with the way I'm feeling it's like the beginning of the flu, nice! I'm totally blaming Em and her school full of rampant seething mutant germs, ack! She's not feeling so hot either, but she's not old like me, she bounces back more easily, no fair! >:( And if that weren't bad enough, I also have a freakin' toothache! Oh the agony, I'm miserable! Ahhh, if only I had insurance... Jilly, get ready babe, I'm movin' up north!!

Well, it's official, Em has started to want to have sleep overs. My baby is growing up (wipes tear from eye). When did this happen? How come no one consulted me first? Everyone knows my total distaste for change of any sort, so you would think that "kid growing up" might just be at the top of a short list of things to warn me about here, wouldn't you? Okay sure, whatever, I knew it was coming. I knew she might actually enjoy having a life of her own that doesn't necessarily include me every waking second of the day, but I was perfectly willing to remain in total denial for as long as time would allow. Well, I guess times up. Ug, blow to the gut. It's so funny too because there are times when she can act so darn mature for her age, and then there are others where it's like she just has a total meltdown and reverts back to being a four year old. And it can be at the drop of a hat too, I'm tellin ya, this girl is the epitome of a Drama Queen! I even played into it for a while, trying to help her through her meltdowns, now I'm just like okay, that's it, cut the drama, we can discuss this like rational human beings when you're done! It's seeming to work so far, I don't get nearly as stressed and she gives it up a whole lot quicker. I've started telling her, don't sweat the small stuff, which I think is completely ridiculous to have to say to an eight year old, but I swear, this child has to have everything just so, or she looses her freakin' mind! She such a perfectionist and so hard on herself, she just can't let things be unless they're exactly as she thinks they should be. Which is extremely difficult in the making and more importantly, keeping friends department. It's hard on her, and she knows she's doing it, but it's like she just can't help it, like she's driven to do everything just right, and to make sure everyone around her does the same. I know it's due largely to the oftentimes unrealistic expectations Bub has of her. That plus both my and her high-strung personalities, the poor girl doesn't stand a chance! Jeez, was it really this hard to be a kid?

Did I mention that my fucking tooth hurts?!!!

Bub stayed home from work today because he's a big ass, whinny baby who thinks that a sore throat and stuffed up nose are just cause to lose a whole day's pay over. I'm like, suck it up dude, (which, of course, I didn't say to him 'cause we all know how well that would go over!) but he stayed his butt in bed this morning just the same. Okay fine, whatever, stay home, but tomorrow you'd better pop you some Dayquil and take your sorry ass to work buddy!! What? Do I sound annoyed? Surely not! When I can work and take care of Em, and cook, and clean, and wash your clothes, run the errands, wrangle a kitty, and put up with you! All while staying on plan, exercising every day, and living with the toothache from hell! Naaaaaaaw, I'm fine, no resentment here. ;) No really, isn't that the plight of every mom though? We're used to it, we just keep on trukin' don't we? Man, most guys have no idea just how good they have it do they?!! Bastards! ;D

Here's some pics of Em showing off her sizeable haul. Notice the overwhelming Bratz theme here? Gee, you don't think she likes those ugly little alien-eyed freaks do ya? Of course it didn't all come from us or Santa, as we quite enjoy being able to keep a roof over our heads, and I'm sure the upkeep on nine reindeer can be somewhat taxing on the big guy's budget, so we are (or shall I say Em is) quite fortunate to have such a generous family who always thoughtfully takes her likes and interests to heart when picking out gifts.

My mom, got her that Bratz head thing, you know, like the Barbie ones we had where you can do their hair and makeup, and some arts & crafts stuff. My dad and stepmom got her the Bratz set where their freaky little bobble heads are interchangeable on one body, and a paint by number and color pencil by number set. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but Em is very creative and, I believe, will prove to be quite a gifted artist, hence the crafty stuff, because everyone knows her so well. Santa, of course, got her the Tour Bus thingy and a new Bratz doll along with a few other things, and we got her two magic trick sets, some new books, and an awesome new playdough set with a kitchen theme that includes little molds and such to make it look like real food, which she absolutely went bananas over! She is forever making fake food out of her playdough, so I knew this would be right up her ally.

I was actually quite surprised by what Bub came up with for me last minute. Of course, he had Em with him to help pick stuff out, but still, they did good. My favorite was a reflective waist belt for walkers with holders for a water bottle, cell phone, walkman/diskman, etc. They also got me a resistance band for working out, along with a dvd to use with it, which I'm probably gonna exchange for a resistance band set that includes different sizes and different levels of difficulty. But that's fine, he doesn't have a problem with me changing stuff out, as it's the thought and idea that counts to him. They also got me a couple of boxes of my beloved Kashi Go Lean Crunch cereal as a kind of a silly, yet useful present. My mom got me a new pair of jammies and some of those super soft, fuzzy, cozy socks, ahhhh! And she also sent us $150.00 to do with what we want, NICE!! I suggested we use it for a new video game system because I'm really interested in getting DDR. I like the idea of an interactive game that gets us off the couch and moving our butts to play it! Like me, Em's not really into any sports, so I'll try anything to keep physical activity a regular part of her life as she grows up, I think that was one of the things that I was sorely missing as a kid. Anyway, there was more of course, but frankly, it's all kind of in a haze of "glad it's finally over with now", so I'll just leave it at that. But the day was quiet with no major drama to speak of, so for that, I am grateful.


Now, on to other things. I'm passing on my own Sevens, courtesy of Chrys.


Seven Things To Do Before I Die:

1. Have my excess skin removed and get my eyes fixed (I hate glasses!)
2. Live in authentic happiness
3. Learn Sign Language
4. Take Swing Dancing lessons
5. Finish writing the book I started about my experiences and journey through obesity and weight loss
6. Achieve financial security
7. Stand up for myself when it really counts

Seven Things I Cannot Do:

1. Climb up on a rooftop (I am terrified of heights)
2. Sing (which sucks because I've always wished I had a beautiful singing voice)
3. Touch my nose with my tongue
4. Sew (I can use a needle and thread for minor things, but I mean really sew)
5. Debate or win an argument by proving my point
6. Figure out how to set up and work most electronic devices
7. Stand up for myself when it really counts

Seven Things That Attract Me To My Spouse (or Significant Other, Best Friend, etc:)

Are you kidding? Let's just move on, shall we? No, wait, I'll list seven things I would like in a spouse instead.

1. Kindness
2. Compassion
3. Patience
4. Stability
5. Gentleness
6. Respect
7. Honor

Seven Things I Say (or Write) Most Often:

1. Freakin'
2. Nuh-uh!
3. Good grief
4. Fucking
5. Are you kidding?
6. Stop it!
7. I understand

Seven Books (or Series) I love:

1. Can Stephen King just count as one?
2. Most everything from V.C. Andrews up to the early 90's (I devoured these as a kid)
3. A Child Called It by Dave Pelzer
4. Thin For Life by Anne Fletcher
5. Amazonia by James Rollins
6. Tales From The Scale by Erin J. Shea
7. And too many to mention from Robin Cook

Seven Movies I Would Watch Over and Over Again:

1. American Beauty
2. Steel Magnolias
3. Big
4. The Karate Kid
5. Poltergeist
6. Agnes Of God
7. A League Of Their Own

* I know there must be more movies from the present, but hey, I was a child of the 80's and these are what first came to mind.

Well, that's it. And I'm not gonna tag anyone either 'cause I figure, if you wanna do it you will, no pressure!

I've been preparing a more insightful post on the inner workings of what makes me, me after much introspection and realizations of how my past has helped to mold my present. But then I thought, you know what? Who needs that shit on Christmas Eve? So I'll get back to it at a later date, but for now;

MERRY CHRISTMAS!! (eve)

Tomorrow is the big day, the one that all the big black X's that Em has been meticulously tracking on the calendar have been leading up to. She is a bundle of anxious, excited nerves. She honestly worries that her bad behavior may warrant no presents under the tree from Santa. She stresses over it and seeks constant reassurance. She's so hard on herself, thinking that she's a "bad girl" for all the stupid normal stuff that all kids do. It kills me to have to see her and let her go through all the adolescent angst that will make her into the woman she is meant to be. It's so hard for me to just step back and allow her to learn what she must for herself, when all I can think of is how it doesn't have to be this hard! It's the "fixer" in me that drives me to want to handle all of the unpleasantness of growing up for her, so that she never has to feel the pressure, worries, embarrassment, and anxiety that are so completely normal, and in fact, vital to her emotional development. She is definitely a drama queen and has the uncanny ability to make even the most mundane, everyday occurrences into a major ordeal. She is precocious and insightful and way too smart for her own good, and I can't help but wonder about the woman she will one day be. God, I hope I don't screw this up!

My in-laws came down yesterday so we could exchange gifts. We won't be doing Christmas together this year because my FIL is a preacher and Christmas, of course, is on Sunday. We got them the set of wooden folding TV trays that they've been wanting along with this and this (religious puzzles because she's an absolute puzzle fanatic) for my MIL, and a little gagety pocket knife and utility tool set and an electronic dart board for my FIL. They got Em a whole load of crap, which we're making her wait until Christmas to open, and my MIL secretly whispered to me that my and Bub's cards each contain $50.00, so I guess I'm goin' shopping!... later on... after all the holiday crazies have departed. Which brings me to the task on hand for today. Just as a reminder, Bub is legally blind, and thus cannot really go anywhere or shop for anyone on his own. So, yesterday he informs me that I need to take him to WalMart today (Saturday) so that he can get me something for Christmas, gee how thoughtful of him. I wonder if it ever occurred to him that a truly thoughtful gift would be one purchased online so that I don't have to brave the pits of hell just so he can pick me out some last minute token present? And it's not like I haven't mentioned things that I would like, I just don't think they interested him enough to deem worthy of his time and effort. I know he likes to get me things that make me happy and surprise me whenever he can, but frankly, I believe he uses his disability as an excuse because he knows that I'm always here to make sure things are taken care of. I also think it's one of the ways he traps and guilts me. How would he be able to work or to do anything without me here to chauffeur him around? Okay, so up bubbles some resentment. I'll stop now because, dammit, it's Christmas!! And that's just not where I want to go right now.

Em's little friend from down the street has been over to play practically every day lately. And since school has been out, she's been showing up at like 8:30 each morning! Of course I'm up, and have been for hours by this point, but good grief! I thought kids liked to sleep in whenever possible? I know I sure did! Anyway, could someone please tell me when, exactly, I started to become known only as Emily's Mom, rather than me? I must have missed the memo on that one! I've told her friends my first name, my last name, and what they should feel free to call me, yet each time they ask for something or leave for the day, it's "hey, Emily's Mom" or "bye Emily's Mom!" It's just hilarious to me! Hi, nice to meet 'cha, I'm Emily's Mom, and you are? Oh, of course, you're Peyton's Mom, how silly of me. Perhaps I should have my name changed on legal documents to reflect my new identity. From this day forward, I hereby decree that I am only to be known as Emily's Mom (or like Prince, the woman formally known as Beverly) Think I should pick out a symbol to represent my new identity? Or, maybe, have it put on a license plate? Good lord, I suddenly feel very old!

Okay, I realize that I'm stalling now. Trying to put off getting Bub up this morning because I know what insanity must surely lie ahead. So wish me luck as I bravely venture into the frightening and chaotic world of WalMart at Christmastime, may the force be with me. ;D

Again, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! Cheesy, I know, but still trying to stall here. Okay, now I'm going for real, I promise. Hanging head and pushing away from the puter with sigh... do I really gotta? Okay, okay, I'm outta here! ;D

Freaking out... yes again!!

Truly, there are people in this world (mostly little old church secretaries) who have absolutely no business whatsoever being anywhere near a computer, let alone trying to operate one. Yet, no matter what, they insist that they know what they're doing and that it's right, (of course) and that whatever the problem is, it must be with the program. Heaven forbid someone actually admit to user error, puhleeeeeze! CAUTION, PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER! ACCESS DENIED DUE TO EXTREME STUPIDITY! And no, there is no patch available for download on that! Some people are truly exasperating and my patience as tech support for this software only goes so far. And the busy season is still to come... lord help me!

Okay, sorry about that, I'm better now. ;D

So, what's going on with me? Um, the scale is up. Yes, you read that correctly, the scale is up by exactly 3 pounds. I know, I know, what's 3 piddly pounds? And I know that all of this has been kind of the point lately, you know, to replenish a little sorely needed padding. And that I've actually been under my target weight of 130 lbs. for months now, but just haven't admitted it because it somehow seems too low, and that (to me) implies the impression that I may have "a problem". Which, of course, is completely ridiculous, yet my insecurities about that subject still hold the thought firmly in place. And I also know that weight fluctuates, and that 3 pounds may not really be three pounds (even though those extra 3 pounds have shown up consistently for a week now). So, what the hell is my point you ask? My point is this, it's THREE FUCKING POUNDS!! Deep breaths, deeeeeeep breaths. See, this is exactly what I was afraid of. The idea of purposefully gaining weight, scares the ever livin' shit out of me! And now that I think it's actually happening, well, I'm paralyzed like an idiot deer caught in the headlights. Am I seriously supposed to let go and actually do this for real? You've got to be freakin' kidding me! Wasn't the point of all this blood, sweat and tears, to keep the weight off... for good? Isn't that what I've been striving for during the past three years? Every single relative choice I've made for the past three years has been for the sole purpose of keeping weight off, period. Frankly, I don't see how it could be possible for me to ever be comfortable with gaining weight again, no matter what the reason. So yeah, I'm freaking out a bit. Oh, who am I kidding, A LOT! And now I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. On the one hand I know that I've got to learn to let go, but on the other hand I know that complacency is the death of any diet or "healthy lifestyle" if you'd rather. So how do I find the balance? The happy medium that allows me to remain in control of my body, while still doing what I know I need to for optimum health? Good lord, does this ever end? I don't know, but I do know this; I've got way too much shit to do, to be freaking over this right now! So, I'm off to quit avoiding responsibility, and I'll be back to blabber on about this more at a later date! ;D

Well, I made it, (just barely) and boy lemme tell ya, things got a bit hairy and it's a wonder that everything didn't end up a complete catastrophe regarding stress/emotional eating. Good lord, where do I even begin??? First of all, there is no pre-made fudge to be found at Walmart, (I checked two different ones) Kroger, or Target, so Bub is just gonna have to be happy with the small amount that my stepmom sent home, 'cause I'm not making the stuff myself, period! Now, on to Bub dressing up as Santa for his shop owner friend. Here are a few shots with Em on his lap, on an ATV.

They didn't have much business because they didn't advertise that Santa was going to be there very well, but they're putting the word out more and he's gonna do it again next Saturday (yes, Christmas Eve, don't ask me what he was thinking!) Anyway, Em got a big kick out of it so that's all I care about.

Then, Sunday, me and Em were off to my dad and stepmom's for the gingerbread thing. But not before Bub decides to stop me the very last minute as we're hurriedly rushing out the door late, because he wanted to discuss some business proposition that he was offered to increase the amount of part-time programming work he's already been doing in addition to his day job. I, of course, being in a hurry, didn't give acceptably thoughtful enough answers and was made to wait through a mini lecture (thank god it was mini!) about how he needs to know my opinion on this (even though he obviously already has his mind made up about it) and how it's not his fault that he didn't know we were leaving right then (even though I told him what time we were leaving repeatedly) and how rude it was of me to not stop and put some real thought into what he was asking me, and blah blah blah! Whatever dude, just shut the fuck up! So I finally took a minute and told him what he wanted to hear, and then we were on our way (30 minutes late). As soon as we get in the car, Em is like why does he always do that? And is pissed off that another one of his "lectures" is threatening to ruin our plans yet again. My poor, sweet little girl, she knows him so well. She even tries to give me advice on how to deal with him when he's being like that, and will say things like, daddy is just being daddy again, because she knows that we can't possibly ever know what to expect with him, especially when he's in "one of his moods" as she puts it. WTF am I even supposed to say to all that? Anyway, I called my stepmom to let her know we were running late after we were finally on our way in an hour long journey to BFE. *Make a mental note here, as the BFE part of this story will come into play in a major way shortly. So here are some pics of my little Emmy-poo decorating and showing off her magnificent gingerbread house creation.

See what I mean about the candy? What a nightmare! But alas, I was strong, and somehow managed to withstand the sweet smell and sound of the M&M's calling to me; Beverlyyyyyy, come eaaaaaaat meeeeeee! C'mon, just a few won't hurt! Damn you little chocolatey pieces of evil! Anyway, after the kids where finished and off to play, we sat around the candy filled table chatting and such while I watched my (morbidly obese) father (*make note of this too, as it's about to become important as well) continually reach into the various candy dishes as if there were no tomorrow. Oh look, he'd say, this marshmallow snowman must have fallen out of the package, I'll take care of that! Oh my, these M&M's have gotten some icing on them, darn, I guess I'll just have to eat them! Hardy har har! And so on and so forth. Exact same shit I always did. After all, I am my father's daughter! And then my stepmom broke out the baked goods to prepare me a bucket-o-crap to take home for the fam. Yes, there was fudge. In fact, there were pans and pans of it. Man, I used to make myself so sick on fudge! I would just gorge until I couldn't possibly stand another bite, and then swear the stuff off forever... until the feeling wore off and I was back at it once again. That and chocolate and walnut covered English Toffee, which is something that my mom always makes every year, but not my stepmom (thank goodness!) Anyway, she made us up a care package and I rounded up my munchkin to start our long trek home when, low and behold, my dad points out that I have a flat fucking tire! NOOOOOOOO! Did I mention we were in BFE? And when I say BFE, I mean B! F! E! Think long winding gravel covered dirt roads up to the side of a mountain, where my trusty but useless (in this case) roadside assistance coverage could not possibly go, let alone even find. Okay fine, so I'll change the stupid fucking tire, and try to make my way back out to a main road on the stupid little impotent doughnut, and then try to find a fucking service station open at 6:00 on a Sunday evening, so I can get the fucking flat fixed so I can drive the rest of the way home on the fucking freeway. Can you tell I was fucking annoyed?! And have I mentioned that I cuss like a sailor in "real life"? I know Jilly, pick your jaw up off the floor sweetie, and remember about that dirty little facade which I present so readily to the world. So we start to change the tire, and bless his heart, my dad expects that he'll do it all himself, being the man and the dad that he is, but the fact is, he just can't do a whole lot. He's huffing and puffing like his chest is about to explode, he can't get down, he can't get up, and he certainly can't seem to catch his breath. I wanted to cry for him, and it felt so awkward because we both knew what the problem was, and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. I wanted to just tell him to stop before he had (another) heart attack, but we both knew that his pride would never allow it. So I did as much as he would let me, and remained silent as he struggled through what, by all rights, should have been a fairly simple task. Finally, one of the other guys comes out to offer his help, thank god, 'cause at least now I feel a little more secure in the idea that my dad will not die trying to change my stupid tire! Anyway, we get it all done, I load Em up, and we get the hell outta dodge! Making a mad dash (at a snail's pace) to the nearest WallyWorld with a tire and lube express, which just so happens to be about 20 miles away. We finally get there, we're both tired, cranky and hungry, and the people at the counter say there's five ahead of us, it'll be at least an hour, niiiiiiiice! So we pop on over to the ever conveniently built in McDonalds, much to Em's delight, where we inhale some grub (chicken nuggets and apples for her and a salad for me, thank you very much!) and take a load off while we wait. I ordered some much needed coffee, and before too long all was well with the world again. That is, until we checked back in with the tire people. They said they couldn't fix the damn thing, that it was too badly worn, and I'm gonna have to buy a brand new tire, great! Fine, whatever, give me the cheapest one you got, I don't care, I just wanna go home! (insert whine here) It ended up being about $65.00, which isn't too bad, but it's not like I had an extra 65 bucks just laying around, especially the week before Christmas! But what the hell am I gonna do about it? So that's it, we finally make it home, riding on fumes the last 20 miles or so, 'cause the last thing I want to do is stop anywhere to freeze my ass off pumping gas. And when we get there, that's it, I'm just done. Thank god Bub's out with a friend 'cause I just don't think I could have dealt with him right now. I say screw trying to talk Em into taking a shower, even though she has school the next day. It's late, and we both need to just chill, so I throw on a 1/2 pot of coffee (decaf at this point because I certainly don't want to have any trouble sleeping after this day!) and we sit down to color some pictures. That's right, we colored pictures of all things! There's nothing like zoning out and coloring some good 'ol pictures with my little pookie-pie to clear a frazzled mind. So after we de-stress a bit, I ship her off to bed for some much needed sleep, and then take my own tired butt off to bed shortly there after, foregoing my usual nightly jaunt on the Gazelle. So that's it, I didn't cave, and I didn't go off plan except for skipping my extra workout (I had already done my morning stint on the Gazelle before we left for the day). And I can proudly say that I am still fudge free, and by god, I plan to keep it that way!!

Thanks for the book suggestion Dawnyal. I've already checked with my local library and they don't have it, so I'm putting in a request for it right away. I also looked up more books by this author, and I think I'll be requesting a few of her other books as well.

As for the idea of visualizing myself running away from Bub on the Gazelle... I think I much prefer the idea of running over him instead! Now how's that for a little mojo!

I've used those hair removal creams on my legs without much luck, (I have incredibly thick, course hair) but I've never thought of actually using them under my arms before, interesting...

Post Secret rocks, doesn't it Jilly?! I haven't seen mine pop up on the site yet, but I'm still holding out hope. ;D

Can I just say that the ending to The Apprentice totally sucked Thursday night!! Trump asked Randal (the winner) if he should hire Rebecca as well, and the dude was like no, there is only one apprentice, and that's me! And Trump was like, okay, I'll just leave it at that! HUH? Sure, he won fair and square, and there can only be one winner, but damn, that was just cold! They both are very deserving and qualified for the job, so I hope the Trumpster ends up hiring the chick anyway, regardless of what Randal thinks about it.

Okay, enough of this trivial shit, I'm fixin to be in major crisis mode here. Bub has decided that he must have fudge... here, in this house! Yes, this house, the very one where I, the ultimate goodie fiend, currently resides and where I must somehow learn to co-exist with a butt-load of chocolatey rich, god-forsaken, pure and utter EVIL. In the immortal words of the Wicked Witch of the West; what a world, what a world!!! Not only that, but on Sunday I'm taking Em to our annual gingerbread house making extravaganza at my dad and stepmom's house. My stepmom (the former bakery owner) makes all of the gingerbread herself and crafts the basic houses, each on it's own foil covered base, and primed to be covered in goodies. Then she sets each of the kids up at the kitchen table with their own house, a bowl full of white (homemade) frosting to be used as the "glue" and a putty knife, overlooking a vast array of assorted candies, chocolates and goodies suitable enough for sticking to the houses. So basically, fat chick hell. Or should I say, fat chick heaven. But obsessive/compulsive overeating , junk food addicted, desperately trying to remain skinny, former fat chick hell. Have I mentioned before that I have issues? Why the hell do I even do this to myself? Seriously though, I think I'll be okay there, in spite all the other homemade holiday goodies like her famous fudge, and about a dozen other assorted varieties of Christmas cookies, caramel popcorn, pastries, and treats because I've typically always been a secret binger. So having other people around makes a tremendous difference in how well I handle myself in these situations. Which, of course, is not terribly surprising considering my all encompassing drive to present a false front to those around me. Oh sure, I'm at a normal weight now, I'm never tempted to revisit my old, unhealthy ways. (Can you sense the heavy sarcasm here?) Of course I no longer have lingering issues with food, I am unshakable in my resolve to never again lose control and become that miserably obese woman again, while continuously setting an unrealistic and completely unreasonable example for everyone else around me. (cough *bullshit* cough) WTF is up with that? Surely they must expect this to still be difficult for me, so why on earth would I try to pretend that it isn't? This need to always appear perfect and in control is so ridiculous and completely unnecessary. In fact, it surely must do more harm than good, right? I mean, who could possibly live up to that kind of expectation. Certainly not me, or anyone else I know. I wonder how easily others can see right through me? Or do you think I really have them fooled, and they believe that I really am "cured" of my fatgirlacitis?

In other news, Bub has volunteered to play Santa for a local shop owner friend of his, this weekend and next. Think 300+ lb. albino stuffed into a 3 sizes too small Wallyworld Santa suit. Snicker, snort! Yes, there will be pics, I promise! I'll also make sure to get some pics of the gingerbread house party, and hopefully post all in the very near future. And today I'll be braving the chaos otherwise known as WalMart with Em, to find some Christmas presents for the kids in the family (she really wanted to help pick out the kid's stuff), and to find supplies for her school Christmas party. So, suffice it to say, I just may not survive this weekend. May the force be with me. ;D Of course, I could just conjure up the image of Bub in the sausage suit with screaming kids on his lap, surely that will give me the strength to go on! Tee hee!

I had this whole long, drawn out, depressing post about how life in general is sucking great big 'ol donkey balls right now, but I decidedly could not deal with facing that here and now. So, instead, I scrapped the drudgery of it all, in favor of a lighter more contrived rendition including the normal superficial, teeth gritting, "life is just peachy" facade that I've come to live by over the years. That being the case, I'll just say that I've been in a funk all week, and frankly, not dealing with it very well. But I am feeling somewhat better today, so let's just move on, shall we?

I have to say that I'm a bit disturbed by my apathy towards working out this week. I've literally had to force myself not only to get on the Gazelle, but then to complete my normal workout in it's entirety. This is so disturbing because of the fact that working out, as a part of my not so newly accustomed lifestyle, has not been a major issue or problem for quite some time now. I normally complete my workouts with nary a struggle or thoughts of complaint, and even look forward to them as a stress reliever, and feel incomplete if I have to miss one for some reason. So, the fact that I've been having to make myself do it, and honestly haven't been giving it my all, is upsetting, to say the least. Oh, I know good and well why it's become such a chore, (see paragraph above) but that's no excuse! Complacency is not an option, so I must figure out how to go about getting my mojo back, and just get over myself already. Working out is a non-negotiable with me, I do it to stay healthy and strong, and I need the structure and routine to keep me inline and hold myself accountable. If I ever start making it okay to not work out at least regularly, then I know that I'm heading down a slippery slope. And frankly, I'm just unwilling to go there. So that's it, no more of this hemming and hawing, I know what I need to do, so I'm just gonna gitter done.

You know what I find absolutely ridiculous? How unbelievably hard it is to shave my armpits now! I think I've mentioned this before, but the damn things gave me such a fit in the shower this morning, that I find it imperative to revisit the topic. WTF is up with this? Do all normal weight people have to deal with this, or is this annoyance reserved exclusively for former fat chicks, much like the perpetual coldness factor? My guess is no, that this is more of a side effect due to regular strength training. And since there is very little fat there, and a whole lotta muscle, it creates deep, cavernous valleys, which have become next to impossible to maneuver a razor through. Who'd have thought that something so trivial as shaving my pits would become such a ridiculous chore? Oh well, it could always be worse. Like if my loose skin problem were affecting that area as well. I couldn't imagine trying to shave these massive canyons through drooping, sagging skin. Ug! Now that would be comical! No, I'm lucky that the loose skin doesn't extend to all areas of my body. On my arms though, it's unfortunately been reserved for the much more visible areas than an easily covered armpit. Lucky me! ;D I'm quite certain that I will likely never feel comfortable going sleeveless. But since I've never done so before, it's not as if I really know what I'm missing out on. Plus, I'd probably just be freezing my bejeebas off the whole time anyway, so what's the point? Bejeebas? Don't ask, even I don't know. ;D

Tonight is The Apprentice finale, I think both Randall and Rebecca would be excellent apprentices, so I'm having trouble deciding who I want to win. I'm just glad I agree with the final two this time, whereas before I didn't always think they had the best choices left at the end. I'm sad that Survivor is over for the time being, I'm gonna miss it on Thursday nights for the next few months. And I was sad to hear that Joey was being cancelled, we really enjoy that show, followed by Will & Grace. Yeah, our Thursday nights, otherwise known as TV night at our house, is normally jam-packed full. We usually tape Joey and Will & Grace while we watch Survivor. Then we watch the Apprentice followed by ER, and last we grab the tape from earlier and finish off the shows that we couldn't watch while Survivor was on. By the time we finish up all of our shows it's about 11:00 and I'm fighting to stay awake. I know it's crazy, but it's worth it and hey, it's only one night out of the week! We also always get dinner out on Thursday nights. Not sure what it'll be tonight but I'm sure we'll find something good. My favorite thing to do is to get Chinese takeout because I always order the General Tsao's Chicken (all white meat and extra spicy) and then chop a few pieces up in a massive salad. Plus, the portions they give you are so huge that I can pretty much make lunches out of the remainder of the chicken for the rest of the week. Mmmmm, this makes such an awesome salad, my mouth is watering just thinking about it! I also like it because I get to indulge in one of my all time favorite dishes, yet still stay completely on plan. It's the best of both worlds, IMO.

Well, I think that's all for now. I'm off to catch up on work before it's time to pick Em up at school. Happy Thursday everyone!

There she goes again!

Thanks for all the encouragement from my last post ladies, ya'll are awesome! And I agree Sandi, Lydia has no right to be there, GO RAFE!!

So I came across this little tidbit by way of 3fc, by way of Dawnyal, by way of Renee Gets Fit, and I found it to be especially fitting considering the multitude of "only if" posts I written since starting this blog.

"Nobody has things just as he would like them. The thing to do is to make a success with what material I have. It is a sheer waste of time and soul-power to imagine what I would do if things were different. They are not different." - Frank Crane

It's no secret that my life's not everything I'd ever hoped or dreamed it would be, (oh who's kidding, it's not even close!) but, the truth is, it's my life, with which to do the best I can with what I have and what I know. Not particularly inspiring or exciting, or much to anxiously await, but it is what it is, and I guess I need to be okay with that. I've spent so much time sitting on my hands waiting for something better to come along, that magic whatever that somehow makes perfect sense of the way I've been living, proving that it really was only a matter of time before I could get on with the life I was always meant to live. Yet where has all that waiting gotten me? Yep, you got it, stuck right smack in the middle of this little resentful hell of my very own making. Why is it, I wonder, that I assume I should be privy to anything better than what I already have. I mean, I deeply appreciate the fact that my life could easily be so much worse, and that it is for so many others. Maybe if a terminal illness or disability were affecting me or my immediate family personally, or if we were homeless, or one of us was hopelessly addicted to some illicit drug, maybe then I would be justified in this relentless longing for something better. Maybe then I would have the right to want for more. But as it stands now, we have a roof over our heads, we can pay the bills and even have a little left over sometimes, I have this ridiculously cushy ass job which allows me an enormous amount of freedom to spend with Em and come and go as I please, while significantly contributing to the family income. We are not sick nor are we enveloped in any real hardship, and we are lucky enough to live in a country where basic freedom and civil rights aren't even a question and require no struggle or sacrifice to obtain. We are, quite simply, a typically dysfunctional family who is so caught up in just getting by that we forgot to really try to live life somewhere along the way. I say we, but I really mean me, because I'm the one who accepted mediocrity rather than striving for more. I'm the one who decidedly settled into an unfulfilling life rather than take the road less traveled out of fear and simple apathy. So why should I have the right to expect more when I've never once put forth the effort to obtain it? Yes, I know, I put forth the effort for my health, mobility, and truthfully my dignity and vanity, and for some unknown reason a switch was flipped in my noggin, and I was able to miraculously achieve success in an area that I never before thought possible. But that's different somehow, or at least I make the excuse that it is. So yes, I've put forth the effort to change my life significantly, yet somewhere along the way I came to the disheartening conclusion that being skinny actually doesn't solve all of life's problems. Gasp! Oh, say it ain't so! Sorry, but it's true. That one elusive goal that I've spent my whole entire life yearning, crying, begging and pleading for really ain't all it's cracked up to be after all (for me anyway). I'm still the same socially awkward, shy, insecure and indecisive shell of a woman desperately trying to find my place in a world where I really never have and probably never will feel comfortable and accepted. Yet, even that is no one's fault but my own, which, in itself, is a hard pill to swallow, but absolutely true. Everything that I am, I alone have brought about all by myself. So maybe I just need to start following my own advice, the very thing that I've been diligently trying to drive into Em's head every time I see her holding out for something better, or complaining about what she has. Learn to be happy with what you have and try to make the best of it. But then, wouldn't that just be settling for something less than best or what may be so rightly deserved? Perhaps there are degrees of settling, some more acceptable than others. Perhaps they reside in the various shades of gray that linger somewhere between my unyielding worlds of black and white. Or perhaps I just think too damn much now that I no longer use food to self-medicate, and I need to stop over-analyzing every goddamned thought or emotion that pops into my cynical, self-deprecating head. Or maybe I just need to pour another cup of coffee and try to relax because maybe I'm not supposed to figure all of this shit out. Maybe I just need to learn how to be. Nothing more, nothing less.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! NOT!

Well, we did end up with about an inch of the white stuff, which was just enough to paralyze the town and shut schools down for the day, but not nearly what they were predicting, bummer! >:( Thank god Bub didn't try to use that as an excuse to play hookey from work today, 'cause the last thing I needed was having to deal with him all day, ugh! Me and Em went out to play in it right after we dropped Bub off at work, and spent about an hour scraping together as much snow as we could to clobber each other with piddly little snowballs. It was fun, but when our faces and fingers started to go numb, well it was time to pack it in! After hot chocolate for her, (coffee for me, thank you very much!) and a good snack, I told her she could pick one of her movies and just chill for a bit while I got in my morning Gazelle time and caught up on a little work. Soon after, some friends from down the street stopped by to see if she could play, and they've been hauled up in her room ever since. Only to take a break for some chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, then right back in there for more exciting fun in the fabulous world of Bratz. Ahhh, what a life!

Now, to change the subject a bit. I need to rant a little 'cause you know how I am about money and always trying to find the best deals, so this one really got my goat! I already wrote about how I had just ordered Em the Bratz Rock Angelz Tour Bus for Christmas, but I didn't go into detail about the gripe I had with them over it, so here goes... When I first went to order it they were promoting a free Bratz remote control car with the purchase of this item. Of course I was like sure, I'll take a free car too! That along with the free shipping because it was over a certain amount made me a very happy camper! But come to find out that they were actually out of stock on the free car so when I contacted them about it they basically said tuff titty, it was a promotional item and you missed the boat baby. Well, maybe they didn't put it quite those words, but you get the point! Okay, so I was fine with that, shit happens, but now I come to find out that those bastards just dropped the price of the Tour Bus by $10.00, the day after it was shipped! Yeah, now I'm mad! >:( So what did I do about it you ask?? Well, knowing me I normally would have just bitched and moaned about how I got screwed, (even though I did order the thing right in between the two promotions, so it's not like they did it on purpose!) but this time I took action! I contacted them again, this time saying that since I didn't get to take advantage of either promotion, that I would like for them to please refund the price difference to my credit card, and keep a loyal Amazon customer happy in the process! I know, this is soooo unlike me, but dammit, I didn't think it was fair so I did something about it! YAY ME!! So, what's the verdict you say? I just got a message back saying they're refunding the difference to my credit card, apologizing for the inconvenience and thanking me for remaining a loyal customer! YES!! Now that's what I'm talkin' bout!!

I also did something the other day at the auto mechanics that made feel proud and empowered as well. I was sitting there in the waiting room, (going on my second hour of waiting) happily reading away on my latest book, (A Man Named Dave, which I'll expound on more at a later date) when I started to notice the choking smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. Now, I used to smoke a long time ago, when I was a stupid kid and didn't have enough sense to not do things that could potentially kill me, but as I said, that was a long time ago, and now I don't personally choose to expose myself or my daughter to it, ever. So when I look up and see this old geezer standing right next to the (closed) door inside the waiting room with me, just puffing away like nobody's business in between his intermittent hacking coughs I might add, well, I was annoyed to say the least! Now my clothes and freshly washed hair were all gonna smell of the nasty stuff, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it! Oh but wait, there was something I could do about it now! I wrestled with it in my head for a moment, not wanting to deal with any sort of confrontation of course, but then I blustered up my courage and excused myself to Mr. Chimney Stack, asking him if he would kindly take he and his cancer stick outside for the remainder of his smoke break. Of course I didn't actually use those words, in fact I was quite polite and very appreciative of his immediate compliance. He quickly apologized for lighting up in the room, and excused himself right outside to finish his cig in solitude. Again, YAY ME!! Perhaps I really can develop a backbone here! Hmmmm, if that's really the case then I wonder what else I could possibly take on?? ;D

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

Okay, well not really, but they are calling for snow tonight and tomorrow, so I'm just going with it! Apparently Dawnyal and Chrys thought I was feeling left out so they're sending their wintry leftovers directly east. Thanks a lot ladies! JK! I actually don't mind the snow, as long as it isn't too much to function normally (i.e. crazy SUV wielding soccer moms who think 4 wheel drive means they can climb freakin' Mt. Everest), and as long as it vacates the premises in a timely manner (a couple of days is just about enough for me, thank you very much!). But I really don't mind the snow because where I grew up in CA (near San Fran) we didn't have snow, ever. Well, it hailed... twice. And sometimes the dog's water dish would freeze, but that's about the extent of our wintry weather. When we wanted to play in the snow it involved planning and an extensive road trip, so needless to say, we didn't have much opportunity for snowball fights and the such. So if good 'ol Mother Nature sees fit to dump a few inches of the white stuff on us every now and then, well, I say bring it on, I'm game! Me and Em usually have a blast playing like the kid she is, and I still am at heart when it comes to clobbering eachother silly or making a lopsided snowman. And gosh, she just loves it so! The sparkle in her eye when the flakes start to fall is just priceless. So let it snow every day if it will continue to evoke such pure and utter joy in my precious little girl, it'd be worth it for that alone. Oh lord, so maybe that's taking it a little far, but you get the picture! Really, all I ever want for her is simple happiness, and dammit if I'm not willing to do everything in my power to make sure that happens. Okay, I'm done now... no really I am! ;D

On to other news, warning TMI alert, read on at your own risk!! I'm having still more skin "issues". Namely my belly button area. Try as I might, I just can't seem to keep the little booger free of infection. I think I've pretty much got a handle on all the other problem areas beneath the folds of my skin, but this one is particularly persistent and hard to get rid of. Oh, but there was at time, when I was at my biggest, that the creases and crevices of my swollen body were not a pleasant place to visit. The infections would just rage, seemingly out of control. Yet I suffered miserably through because of my own shame and humiliation at my inability to take care of simple personal hygiene. God, that was a dark time in my life! But now, my only real problem area is that damn belly button! I do feel lucky that it's not worse though, because I know how bad it could be. Maybe, if I had some medical insurance, I could file a claim stating that a full body lift would be what is medically necessary due to my poor little belly button being raw and irritated most of the time! Well hell, might as well throw in a boob job, thigh and arm lift, laser eye surgery, and a complete dental overhaul just to boot! Why not, couldn't hurt to ask, right?! Yup, keep dreamin'! So, for now I'll deal, but maybe some day...

Let's see, what else is going on around here? Oh, I just ordered this for Em's "big" present from Santa. Big meaning too freakin' expensive! Yup, you read that right, 70 big ones! The hell you say! For that? Yeah, for that. But hey, it's what she's been jonesen for and well, you know, Santa does aim to please! I'm also getting a Salad Shooter for my mom and stepdad- I know it's cheesy, but it's what they asked for I swear! And I told mom that I would love a new pair of warm, cozy jammies and soft, snuggly slippers. Ahhhh, warmth, that elusive state of being that I've made it my mission in life to find and covet. Oh boy, is this ever gonna be a long cold winter! Seriously, I'm thinking of investing in some good thermal underwear. I've got to do something to combat the cold, 'cause so far, nothing's cuttin' it. I do believe drastic measures are in order! Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. Time to actually work for a living, bah!

Friday, Dec 2...

Well, my little Emmy poodle doodle (yeah, I call her every silly name you could possibly think of) put on a grand performance (along with the rest of the 3rd., 4th., & 5th. grade classes at her school, but who really cares about the rest of them anyways?!) at the high school auditorium for a Christmas Carol-A-Long Thursday night. It was a smashing success, in spite of the 4th. and 5th. graders ear piercing renditions of silent Night and Joy To The World performed on their insidious little recorders. (OMG, I actually found a recorder home page, no way!) Good lord, whose bright idea was it that every elementary school child must learn and perform on this horrendous instrument? I think it's nearly impossible to actually become good at the stupid thing! I sure didn't when I had to learn it in elementary school- oh my poor mother, I must have driven her absolutely batty with it! Luckily I still have one more year before the onset of the dreaded and incessant recorder practice. Wish me luck! Anyway, I got a little annoyed with myself because it never even occurred to me to grab the digital camera before we left for the performance. Of course, we're typically seated so far at the back of the auditorium that we can't see anything but a blur of bodies anyway, so why would it have crossed my mind? But it just so happens that I spied two empty seats in the very first row, so I snatched those suckers up and we sat our happy butts down! Bub was even able to make Em out in the sea of faces, and he's legally blind!! So, no pics, but at least we were able to see her this time! Anyway, they picked a crappy night for this little shindig, don't these people know that Thursday nights are when Survivor, The Apprentice, and ER are on? I mean, c'mon! So I put in a tape for Survivor (knowing we'd be back in time for everything else) and then we grabbed some dinner at Taco Bell (mmmmm, Taco Bell!) before the thing was supposed to start, and it all worked out just fine in the end.

Okay, since I brought it up, let me expound just a bit on my intense yearning for my beloved Taco Bell. I know, it's sad, but I'm a foodaholic and dammit, it's my prerogative! One of my very favorite meals in the world is a chicken taco salad from Taco Bell. Yup, that's right, the ones with the big 'ol deep fried flour tortilla bowls. Now, I decided a long time ago that life was simply not worth living without at least being able to indulge in some of my all time favorite foods, so I made it my mission to find the nutritional information on these salads and figure out what I could do to it to make it a more diet friendly and acceptable meal. What I discovered is that you can't actually find the nutritional breakdown on the salads the way I order them, or 0n the tortilla bowl by itself. So, what did I do? I contacted the freakin' company and had them break it down for me over the phone!! Obsessed much? Nah, just diligent and determined! The bowl (by itself) has like 370 calories and 20 grams of fat, 38 grams of carbs, and 7 grams of protein. So here's what I do; I order the salad with grilled chicken instead of taco meat, no pinto beans (YUCK!), and I get it Fresco Style, which means no cheese or sour cream and it adds extra fiesta salsa instead. And since I order it without a bunch of stuff, they tend to pile the lettuce even higher than usual, which suits me just fine. Then I add the little cup of salsa that comes with it, I skip the crispy tortilla strips, and add a couple of packs of hot sauce, and viola! Then, with all my might and every lick of will power I can muster, I try my hardest to only eat about 1/2 to 2/3 of the yummy, crunchy tortilla bowl, plus all of the fillings. Luckily it's been a battle that I've had the good fortune to win more often than not, but good lord is it ever a battle! And you know what? It's worth it every time! I sure does loves me some Taco Bell, mmmmm!! I'm not real sure what the total damage ends up being, since I'm not an actual calorie counter, (I wanted the nutritional info on the bowl just so I would have a general idea) but I figure about half the bowl plus all the fillings I mentioned can't be that bad, and hey, I lost 190 freakin' pounds eating it this way the whole time, so I guess I'm doing something right!

Monday, Dec 5...

Good grief! I started this post last Friday, and now here it is, Monday afternoon! Needless to say, it got busy around here. Anyway, I had the formidable pleasure of spending most of this morning at the auto mechanic's because our minivan has been acting up and frustrating the hell out of me for a while now! It would simply die when idled or at a stop in traffic, which, of course, didn't make me very popular among my fellow motorists, especially when the light was green, but my insolent little car insisted on red. Apparently there was a hole or leak in some hose thingy, that was allowing air in where it shouldn't. But it's all fixed up and running smoothly now, all for just under 100 bucks, ouch! But I am happy and content, and life can continue on like normal now. See, it doesn't take much to make me happy! Of course, it doesn't take much to frazzle me to the core either, but we'll just skip over that little personality flaw for now!

We went to see Chicken Little on Saturday, yawn! I'm sorry but kid movies just don't do it for me. Plus, I hate going to the theater anyway, as I've previously stated, so unless it's just an awesome movie that I've been wanting to see, I pretty much only go in an effort to keep the peace and make everyone happy. Bub has this need to go out and do stuff on the weekends, which, by all means, is completely reasonable, but I'd much rather stay my happy butt at home like a reclusive little hermit. Have I mentioned how anti-social I am?? Well, Bub's just the opposite, so you see how well that works out! But it makes Em happy, and that's what really matters anyways, so I go along.

Oh, I almost forgot! We put our new Christmas tree up on Sunday. We got a new one because the old one was simply massive and it took forever to put together. And after the incident last year where Bub decided that it was more important to fall asleep on the couch than to help put the damn thing together, and then get pissed at me for having the audacity to be annoyed and frustrated about it, well, that was just more than I could handle this year. So much so that I was ready to forget about the whole freakin' thing and not even put a tree up if it was gonna be like that again! So, we shelled out 30 bucks for one of those pre-lit ones that just unfolds and viola! A ready made Christmas tree, minus the drama!! Yay! Now all I need to do is find a way to keep Precious from climbing up the damn thing and chewing on the lights! Ooooooh, that curious little kitty! Why I oughta! But, alas, she's just so darn cute and lovable, what's a girl to do? ;D

Well, that's it for now. Hopefully I'll find my way back here again before next week!