Saturday, March 14, 2009
Be vigilant. It could happen to you.
I've been telling myself I would put more effort into my health and fitness journey for the past four months.
The weather's been cold, wet, and miserable. I never make any progress in the winter. In fact, I REgress. I slack off.
I focus on the next most important things in chronology; and January is jam-packed with business travel, followed immediately by the renewal of my business license, followed by the new semester at school. All of my time and effort have been refocused on my career and educational goals, and happily, I have made great strides there.
However, I'd be lying to myself, and you, if I said I'd been diligent about what I've been eating and drinking during the same period of time. I know darned well that many impetuous (yet delicious) choices crossed my lips, without ever making it to my food tracker, with such frequency that I'd developed a fear of the scale again.
I'm sorry to say, my pants are tight. The loose ones.
It's back to basics time.
Just like I did at the beginning of my journey, I spent a week planning and plotting my course. I crunched numbers, set goals, and set dates. I removed trigger foods from my pantry, by throwing them out or feeding them to my husband (or other animals). And today, at the grocery store, I bought all of the same foods I ate way back then, at the beginning, when I enjoyed such dramatic results.
I've spent too much on clothes to backtrack.
Unless I want to feel shamed when I see people who haven't seen me in the past six months, wondering if I've gained enough for it to be noticeable, I've got work to do.
All the tools are in place. My next major event is only seven weeks away. All systems are GO.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Today I had a big Botany exam. One hundred questions, multiple choice and matching.
I studied while driving to school (okay, not a great idea, but I was late and hadn't really studied). I walked into class twelve minutes late, grabbed my test, found a seat, and got right down to business.
The material was so easy, and so fresh in my brain, that I finished my exam in just ten minutes.
And I am 100% positive that I got 100% of the answers correct.
Looks like the weekend weather will be rain, or snow, or sleet; or some combination of the three. I had some really sweet jobs lined up, lots of physical labor outdoors, and now it looks like unless God intervenes with a sudden small drought, they'll all have to be rescheduled. Which means not only will I be stuck at my desk doing paperwork all weekend, but I'll be going into next week with a lot less cash in my pocket. Paperwork takes weeks to pay off. And how am I gonna explain it to the dog? Something tells me she'll still expect me to jog her.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Our first significant snowfall in many years here in central Virginia, and the whole town has ground to a halt.
After just a few hours confined to my office, I had cabin fever. Once the storm passed, I shoveled the sidewalks (I actually love shovelling snow) and cleaned off the car. I carefully avoided rush hour, and set out to do a little shopping this evening. It was then that I discovered deserted parking lots all over our city.
I tried three department stores, became completely dejected, and headed to Blockbuster. They NEVER close. At least THEY wanted my business.
Go figure... here I am trying to do my part to help the economy and spend money, and I can't get a break.
Thank goodness I've got plenty of wine.
Friday, February 27, 2009
I just returned from a weekend in Los Angeles. Oscar weekend, no less.
Although I have flown for business no less than SEVEN times in the past six months, this was my first "vacation" since June of 2007. Really, it wasn't so much of a vacation as it was a wedding trip.
The Hotel was beautiful. Have a look: pasadena.langhamhotels.com/en/
We also managed to squeeze in a visit to LaBrea Tarpits, the Avenue of the Stars, Rodeo Drive, Monterey Beach, and nice dinner by ourselves.
The wedding was my first opportunity to wear my new Stuart Weitzman peeptoes- my most treacherous designer platforms. I knew ahead of time that most of the female guests would be wearing black, so I did as well; choosing an understated Ralph Lauren shirtwaist, paired with a wide Cole Haan belt, in maroon... the perfect compliment to my red shoes.
Apparently, I made quite a stir.
First of all, my heels were scandalous enough to elicit talk. I know this is true because
A) I actually caught someone POINTING at my shoes, talking to the woman beside her, while the two of the stared at my feet. They both looked up and caught my gaze, smiled self consciously, and turned away.
B) When I was visiting with the bride after the ceremony, she said to me "I heard you were having some problems with your feet or your shoes, is that okay now?" WTF? Seriously? This is because several women commented that they'd love to have a chair during the long photo session, when all of us were standing on the lawn, and I agreed that I too would like to sit. Okay? SEVERAL of us mentioned that standing on the lawn in our heels for over an hour was somewhat tedious, so I was hardly alone. But WHO says something like that to a BRIDE on her wedding day??? What exactly is she supposed to do with that information? Were these people so catty as to make this MY issue, because I had on the highest heels in the joint? Were they waiting for me to perhaps remove them, and admit tearfully that nobody should be so stupid as to wear heels like that? OMFG, could we PLEASE just concentrate on the wedding???
Give me a break!
My shoes did get a couple of random "love your shoes"- one from a woman in the ladies room, and another from the concierge, a dashing man who was something like a cross between Cary Grant and Tim Gunn. Handsome as hell, smooth as silk, and completely out of the closet. I loved this guy. He flattered me so much I wanted to follow him around the hotel. After the reception, he unlocked the cloakroom for me, where we'd stored our luggage (since we'd already checked out of the hotel), so I could change my clothes. After I ducked into the ladies room to change, he took me back into the cloakroom to let me stow my dress and shoes, and listen to me complain that my jeans were too tight. He laughed and said "No way, honey. You've got a GREAT figure. You WEAR those jeans." I really loved that guy! He told me I looked "awesome", and that my hair was "flawless". Too bad I couldn't take him home!
Well, back at the reception (in heels just as high, thank you) most of the guests had either left for the Oscars, or joined one of several poker games going on. I turned around and literally bumped into another wedding guest. I smiled and apologized profusely, and she grabbed my hand and said, "Oh, we have been looking at you all day, and you don't even have to say a word, we just KNEW you were cool." She was being sincere. She claimed to speak for everyone at her table, and they based their opinion on... get this... my HAIR. Never mind that the haircut I got last week was the first time I have ever been less than satisfied with my hairdresser, but I did instruct her to make it a little "edgy", and "more extreme" for L.A. Guess it worked out.
So went my fashion week in Los Angeles, were I rubbed elbows with the rich, the famous, the flattering and the snooty.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Okay, I know I shouldn't leave the kitchen while something is cooking on the stove, but it's not like I was HOME ALONE.
Or was I?
It couldn't have been five minutes, but when I came back to check on my dinner, I found it burning. I pushed PAST MY SPOUSE to lift the pan off the burner.
I looked at him and asked "HOW did this happen with you standing RIGHT NEXT TO IT?"
I continue. "Can you not SMELL the food burning? Can you not SEE smoke swirling out of the pan?"
He didn't snap out of his trance, but his face did start to take on the same look the dog gets when you scold her: 'I don't know what you're saying, or what I did to cause it, but I do know you're mad, and I think you might be mad at ME'....
How can a grown man be so disconnected?
These are the complaints I typically hear from people when they're venting about how zoned out their KIDS are.
How such glaringly obvious facts escape my husband is beyond me. Need more examples? Here ya go:
"Seriously? Can you SERIOUSLY not tell the difference between clean clothes and dirty clothes?"
"When you take the last cup of coffee, could you PLEASE turn off the pot, so it doesn't scorch?"
"While you play video games, I'll be in the back yard, on a ladder, up in a tree, with a saw. Call me on my cell if you need anything" (like instructions).
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