Lulicious

Mix of Sun and Cloudsy

2008-03-13T11:13:00.003-04:00

I love to laugh. Yes, it's true. Most people think they feel the same way but just don't seem as committed to regular laughter as I feel. I am usually restrained enough to resist laughing at my own goofy remarks. And there are those days when it takes even less than usual to send me ripping down a laughing jag. Bless my heart, it happened when I read the forecast a while back and it just goes with the photo. Forecast from the NY1 website weather department: Mix of sun and cloudsy. Cloudsy. I feel it. I loved that I had never heard the word, that it totally fit, and that I received a much needed reminder that all humans as, in fact, human! Whew! Thinking of this unusual forecast on a regular basis keeps me lighter and helps slightly in reminding myself that I just can't be perfect. Perfection isn't usually any fun anyway!

I had one of those days on Monday that is all running - literally. So many appointments, so much work, a dash of anxiety, a sprinkling of dental discomfort - the recipe for a true Monday. As I raced from errand to errand, appointment to office to project, I forced myself to try to be more present. It's something I am now focused on (for a variety of reasons) and MAN is it hard! I pas the New York Library a dozen times a month. I have been in once, probably a decade ago. I did not forget the celestial mural on the top floor. It is dramatic, light, beautiful, cotton candy joy. As I passed the library, walking particularly quickly to try to dry my sweat matted hair in my own manufactured walk-breeze, I chastised myself for continuing to miss out on it and promised to return.. I walked on (picture mall walker here). Then stopped. And thought, hey, NOW. When is now a good time? In the end, I spent more time in the bag checking/ security lines than I did under the pink-lavender cloudsy but I was smiling. And still am.

So much love...

2008-02-22T07:43:00.003-05:00

So much to love today: this city, snow in this city (our first realll snow this year), sickie people with clever and devious senses of humor, and my camera phone to capture that humor and share it with other sickies like you. Awesome. I captured this little treat at the art supply store. It makes me laugh every time I look at it: the left arm raised in the SS salute, the head of that same body lowered in shame (presumably because of the salute) and the utter calm, nay, disinterest, of the second figure. And the giant legs, encased in plastic, looming ominously in the background. Oh, too much fun with wooden figure guides. Thank you weird art store supply sickie.

In other sectors of my less exciting life, I am struggling to push some of that love into my job search. No, y'all. I am not just looking to leave my firm because it has become a legal temple of Obama worship (he used to work there and now everyone feels the need to display a photo of himself with the master orator) but also because the creative juicesare evaporating and it's time to get honest about my life (and honest about how toxic er, a-hem, certain unnamed situations can be). Oh man. And not eating trash in all this just to survive? Well, hello miracle!

Ah, but it's Friday - and a snowy winter wonderland of a Friday at that. I know everyone loves when I say TGIF because it showcases my ultra-nerdy and not so covert love of goofy acronyms. Yay-uh! Have a great weekend, lovers.

Bunny Blur

2008-02-13T14:28:00.002-05:00

I am going to have to go get another one of these photos for Easter. WOW. This bunny was amazing. A 20 pound lump o'love, Harvey is a permanent resident at "Parrots of the World" on Long Island. I fell so in love with Harvey I found myself inquiring about how to get my own. No No No! If you'd like to see this fondleworthy furball in all of his costumed glory, you can do so here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SScOSx9PuZs&feature=related. I am not kidding, it's worth it. The shopowner and animal expert featured on the video, Marc, was very nice, knowledgeable and clad in his usual turtleneck. I am as curious about what's under his turtleneck as I am about some of his turtles. (You can read that to mean extremely or not at all). I appreciated that he let me molest Harvey for mucho holding time. What a comforting little guy. And beautiful. Hellloooo. I am talking about the bunnnny!

My Funny Valentine

2008-02-11T22:47:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's true. Valentine's day looms. I think I can officially say that I dislike the day. I love on every day BUT Cupid's commercial consumerfest. Ohhh man. Single, coupled, in love or out, it is a frontrunner in the race for least favorite holiday (losing, quite naturally, to the boring ones that at least buy me a day off from work).

This year's valentine's goodies include but are not limited to the following: nice 'n nasty fortune cookies (I made 'em); personalized undies (a recommended RIOT at http://www.teeshirtgallery.com/index.html - mine say, among other things, "open 24 hours"); homemade heart soap with poetry inscribed, and some generally goodly golf fun. And for MOI? Yes, something for my tortured, deserving, overgrown and overworked ticker: the daily reminder. Thar she blows: http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=9517553. I got two with gentle happy reminders for those days when I am falling off the wagon. 1) I live in joy and motion. 2) I want to be forever the me that greets change with open arms and heart. This last will remind me that my new job quest (not exactly as I would have planned it) is an opportunity. Change to be embraced.

Valetine's day is a good chance to embrace some self love. Or some acceptance. Yeah, that sounds palatable. I will try to get there first.

Speaking of love...I love being back and hearing from y'all too!

A Boink a Day Keeps the Blogging Away

2008-02-05T12:56:00.002-05:00

Yeah! So, about the "anonymity" of the last commenter - not so anonymous this time! (If you're wondering about the title of today's rant, er, I mean, blog, please see comment from the "Reserved" post below, accusing me of drifitng from blogjoy as as result of regular boinking. Hey! Who talks like that? Brits? Jeez.) Buuuuuut, after minimal cajoling, here you have it, first blog of the new year. Better late than never, I say! I just needed a little encouragement. Isn't that all we ever need? So, some brief catch-up (in photos) below. The last few months have seen some change (everywhere but my waistline, God forbid) some major joy, some new direction (in the form of a job search and some soul searching), friends with new babies, the giddy good news of a sister back in the states, reunions, happy holidays, love, and general apathy about the blog - oh, you knew that part, didn't you?

Holidays since the last blog:

Halloween (Cleopatra)

I mean really. Cross-eyed much? I missed being the pirate. I really did.

Thanksgiving (Switzerland. France. Oh. And Amsterdam. Need I say more?)

Where else can you find (or be as excited as I was about) a GIANT Monchichi? Are these still made? Trendy somewhere? The picture tells me that this was no mere hallucination, a childhood fantasy with which to torment a younger, monchichi-adoring sibling. No sir. This puppy was for real! I guess it isn't really a puppy, is it? Well, at any rate, real. As real as the banana peel on which Brian slipped shortly after this photo was taken. PLUS good times at Chez Stewart (our last time with her as a European resident) and in teh caves in the marvelous Bourgogne region. Amen!

Christmas (family in New York - Heaven)

Drinking, cooking ,eating, singing, churching, gifting, rejoicing, napping, pajama-ing, stickballing in pajama-ing, joking, howling. General merriment abounded at Brian's house for the holidays. What a brave soldier he was!

New Year's Day (Florida, golfing)

Hey, I didn't say the picture was of golfing. Maybe I did some other stuff there too! Just maybe...

Martin Luther King Jr. Day (home, chilling. It was amazing.)

(No photo, can you believe it?)

Trying to get back on the horse is really much harder than getting back on the horse. Ignoring these gloom and doom economists in the midst of a job search is, shall we say, not great for the healthy eating resolution. Still, I persevere (please insert martyr font here). Thankful for each new day. Wooo wee!!! Thank you A. for the encouragement - and the interest.

Reserved

2007-10-08T08:24:00.000-04:00

Don't you love when the universe conspires to make you feel special? I mean, I assume this was reserved to mean "don't sit there" not "Lucia, you are too reserved. You need to come out of your shell a little." This was a definitely sign to me... (pun intended)...Take some care of yourself. Very ralrely are signs from the universe so literal. (I have had two literal ones in as many months! I guess the forces out there know I can be pretty dense.) I found this on my taxi seat on the way to the airport last week. I decided to keep it and use it, not sparingly, in my daily life. I can just see myself throwing that puppy down on the subway bench. Or the DMV. Or at Central Park. What about a really good table at a fun club? I think we're onto something here. Just carry your own "reserved" card and make life easier. And more fun! Remember to use classy font (how much do you love the word classy - you know, no one who actually is really uses the word) and thick card stop. And you're off! Reserved.

Fishy!

2007-09-26T12:43:00.001-04:00

Off to Italia today for Claire's wedding. Fingers crossed for good weather. It will be a short trip but promises lots of laughs and adventure (Jen and I are driving from Rome to Marcialla).

Last weekend found me at a lily pad and koi store. Like toy store but for water gardeners apparently. It rained and, under an umbrella and practically in our pajamas, we just sauntered through the fish cages and lily pad ponds. It was so relaxing and fun! I love how these guys look in the water and never get sick of staring at them. I have to turn back to painting PRONTO. (Just practicing my Italian. As if being able to say "pronto" will help me in any way when we get lost on the Autostrada. This is gonna be gooood.)

Indian Summer

2007-09-24T10:56:00.000-04:00

Though the calendar tells me that the first day of Fall was yesterday, Indian summer weather made for a beautiful weekend. Who would have guessed that Long Island could look so pretty? Last weekend (when this photo was taken) was crisp and sunny, picturesque and bright. The perfect day for the convertible. And for golf. Yes, I received some new clubs as part of an ongoing birthday celebration and played my first 18 holes last Sunday. Believe me, "suck" doesn't begin to cover it but I get points for bravery. But not nearly as many points as the people who played with me!

This is my favorite time of year. it has the weirdest mixed effect - a little melancholy, a little energizing, a little pensive (next steps usually occur to me at the beginning of Fall). I guess it's a strange time to re-evaluate. Maybe I do that too much. Or too little. Or just the right amount but with too little action.

Pumpkins. Apples. Crunchy leaves. Crickets. Sweaters. Mmmm. I love the Northeast still. And still. And still. The best part of Fall this year? Falling in love. When my love has ended in the past, I always panic, terrified I will not feel those feeling again. And then, I can and do, stronger and wiser. The relief is almost as blissful as the bliss itself. And it's scary too. So much to trust. So much to let go of. So much to discover. Sigh. Leaves. Pumpkins. Apples. :)

Weight: unchanged (SLUG - the other effect of Fall)

weeeee! No mo thirty-threeee.

2007-09-11T11:54:00.000-04:00

Who had the little Fisher Price hospital when they were little? Doesn't the little plastic bald dude in the wheelchair bring back fond memories? This is a photo of a riotous and totally bizarre painting I saw on my quick birthday jaunt to South Carolina last weekend (new beau in tow).

9/11 is a rough day. I know, eventually, in the rest of Americans' minds, it will fade and, over time, become just another day. Like Pearl Harbor. Or the Oklahoma City Bombing. It was such an unexpected and momentous turning point in my life though, it won't go that way for me. I like a quiet day, some clouds, reflection, tea. I once worked in those buildings that fell when those animals caught us with our guard down. Birthdays are always an excellent time to take stock of life, re-evaluate goals, praise friends, bask in gratitude. I am particularly grateful on this day.

Thank you from so many and for so many thoughtful, funny, well-written, kind, energetic birthday wishes! I am glad I was born. :)

p.s. If you're interested, holding steady at the 50 pound mark. Birthday cake and all!

Leftovers

2007-08-22T14:10:00.000-04:00

Some leftovers are better than others. Last week, to celebrate my new office move, I received three dozen roses in various shades of pink and cream. They were breathtakingly beautiful and beautifully surprising. I had never seen that (except at a funeral - maybe).

This may be the first time in my life that I am close to able to see how someone else may see me. I have always wondered. It almost confuses me to look in the mirror sometimes. I am open, finally, to a friendlier view of me. The week has been a less than optimal eating situation but I am human and I am processing overtime! A better understanding is on the way.

I love writing for you. It helps me to know that you like reading this. And I know some of you have been bragging, sweet thangs!

Vroom!

2007-08-14T17:23:00.000-04:00

My office moved on Friday. I started Monday with my new fancy amazing (but not overly clear from my camera phone) view. Central Park in the middle, complete with great lawn and resevoir views. River on left (yes, I get the George Washington Bridge) and river on right. Who is spoiled?

No, it's not a clear picture but you can get the idea... now picture me. Behind the wheel. Woo hoo! There it is, in its new little garage. I feel like such a grown up.

Lots of new news really - new view (work moved), new car (whooooo), new beau...alas, same weight. So I am busting it to hit 50 pounds this week instead. And that's how it goes. I am one happy little hapster!

Wondering....

2007-08-07T13:04:00.000-04:00

Whose booty that is? Well, it's mine. (Duh. I know.) Yeah, it's still above average in the size department but check out that significantly reduced caboose! Take the junk from my trunk.

Back on track these days and steady as she goes. Choosing three bean soup over corn chowder, fruit over ice cream is much more commonplace in my life. I have stayed on track for my ten- pounds-a-month goal for July and doing fine into August. At this rate, the new year should see me closer and closer to a healthy me! I now crave exercise every day and cannot ignore its effect on my mood. Grocery shopping is simple - skipping the inner turmoil that used to rule really makes the Fritos shelf a breeze. I think this week will see me hit the 50 pound mark. So what if it has been years in coming? It's here! A small celebratory treat is in order... say along the lines of... a CAR! :) Yes, no one neeeeeds a car in Manhattan but hey, it's gonna be so fun! (That's not the car in the picture, by the way.) Toot toot! (Uh, that was the car, not the caboose.)

Today: 257

It still is so much. And at the same time, so far from 305. I will be giving clothes away this weekend. And tailoring my favorites. No turning back.

Joys large and small

2007-07-25T23:13:00.001-04:00

Joy comes in all sizes - large, small, imperfect, perfect, near, far. I love it all. However it comes. This tiny green sweater clad gal continues to really do it for me. (As do the others like her - adorable extensions of people I have long loved in the world, Emilys, Zoes, Madelines, Hunters, Avas, Islas.) Helps me ponder. Helps me keep perspective. What do they think? What do they know for sure? What is their joy source? (How can I get my skin like that?)

This week has seen some major breakthroughs, tough moments and wonderful epiphanies. I am so thankful today - for all I know, all I see, all that I have , all I love - and all that reminds me that life is joy.

Thank you.

Amen.

Mi Mi Mimosa

2007-07-16T21:14:00.000-04:00

Can you believe that there is a mimosa tree on my street.? I picked a blossom on the way home from tennis yesterday and then situated it in some hydrangeas. Half the block smells like sweet mimosa blossoms. They are actually pretty much weeds, these guys, that grow into real trees. I love them so much. Their flowers are softer than feathers, their design more refined that the thinnest fiber optics, their scent sweet yet fresh. I have wonderful memories of mimosas.

When my father built the house in which he now lives, originally meant for our family, he planted a mimosa tree under my window. It was struck by lightening. No joke.

Hush This!

2007-07-10T14:00:00.001-04:00

Hush puppies the new wonder food? What's that you say? We've all heard about blueberries and spinach and magical pomegranate potions...trendy new super foods that race off the supermarket shelves until the next new trend blazes through Hollywood blogs and diets. Well, here's one for ya. Hush puppies. Those little balls of fried dough that can hush baby dawgs and clog up southern frying pans across the bible belt can also strengthen your bones and provide enough fiber (cornmeal, you see) to push a whole catfish through your lower G.I. labyrinth! Who knew!?!? When Brangelina and Cameron and the other celebrity bigs catch on to this, remember where you heard it first!
http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2007/healthy.bodies/nutrition.html

Wimbledon It Ain't

2007-07-09T09:27:00.000-04:00

Do you know why we wear white to play tennis? Well, contrary to the opinion of a friend of mine that it serves to reinforce the racism and elitism of the sport (I know, I know), tennis clothing is traditionally white because it shows less sweat. Purple v-neck double layer shirts, for example, show more sweat. Well, I think they do anyway.

I cried when Federer won yesterday. I don't know if that is noteworthy at this point since I have cried every day this week (more on that later). I cannot imagine the feeling of winning something like that. Much less winning to tie a record. Nor can I imagine losing. When Federer lost it, I joined him.

Therapy is working. While I am conflicted about focusing on the negative for a whole hour each week, I suspect that my subconscious dwells there more than I like to admit so might as well tackle the underground business. What it does though, at least until the healing starts, is expose all the raw feelings that I manage to tamp down with food. It's a floody, rough slog. (Can slog be a noun? Yeah? If not, I don't know what to say. It sure feels like a slog...)

Onwards and upwards. Onwards and downwards.

I am going back on the no food that isn't food plan today. I can tell my body is changing and I now enjoy shopping at the upper limits of Ann Taylor clothing which is an utter thrill for me. Now I want that scale to cooperate. Two hours of tennis? Take that you poundy little bastards!

Some things really make my day.

2007-07-03T15:01:00.000-04:00

Some things really make my day. Like seeing this on the sidewalk ont eh way to my therapy appointment. Whew. Good thing I saw it on the way into the appointment, while I could still laugh. Whew. That was a toughie!

The best part of seeing this little guy on the curb was this: someone put it there hoping someone else would see it and appreciate it. It wasn't just put there - it was placed. I love New York.

Goldie Treasure

2007-06-26T13:40:00.000-04:00

My mother never permitted me anything sweet as a child. I mean, not even a graham cracker until I was almost five. Yes, I joke too that I have spent ages 5-33 making up for lost time. Heh. The forbidden fruit was provided secretly and lovingly by one Goldie Sweat. I think have written before of the empowering and naughty feeling of hiding on my closet floor to consume bird peck sized bites of a Reese's peanut butter cup and m siplets from a tall cold glass of fresh sugar water (shuggah wahw-tah). If I trace my addiction back as far as I can, it goes to my closet floor. In fact, those are literally some of my earliest memories. My face still feels warm and the world is light when I revisit those moments. Sugar water, for those of you who did not have a Goldie in your lives, is water with a bunch of sugar stirred in, iced simple syrup - but not too thick. Divine. When I saw the bees in my grandparents' neighbors' yard hard at work in their hives, I imagined that the pollen they collected surely must taste the same. And so it was no wonder they collected it so diligently and tirelessly.

Goldie will be 77 next week. She lives in Winston Salem and I had not seen her since I was about 5 or 6 years old. What a joy. What a treasure! We stopped to see her on the long drive to my cousin's wedding in Beaufort, NC last weekend. She was the same. Happily, some things never change. :) Although... she used to carry a chicken foot in her purse for protection but no longer does. Now she has a turkey foot. Shellac doesn't actually make everything look so good...

A Bird in the Hand

2007-06-19T08:47:00.000-04:00

If a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, what is a face full of bird poop worth? No, it's not a clever riddle from the latest Batman flick. It's a joke really. My life can b e a joke. It is today. My animal karma is officially OFF this week. After barely making it to tennis this morning (in every way), I was proud walking home, sweaty, accomplished. I did it! I was thinking (again) "yeah. I can do this thing! I am gonna SPLAT make it." Never. I mean never. Do you know anyone who ever got bird pooped in the FACE? I am so grossed out right now. First, I know that the reason I can smell the dead mouse is because actual molecules of his stinky liquefying guts are going up my nose. What I really needed was some filthy bird excrement in my mucous membranes to boost my immune system into the stratosphere. And it got on my tennis racquet handle. I had just wrapped it. PINK. Do you think that punk aimed!? You thought pterodactyls were extinct, didja? Well, not based on the size of this event. I don't think it was an ostrich up there. Seriously. Pray for me.

Something Rotten in Denmark

2007-06-17T09:36:00.001-04:00

I know the picture is funny - me: greasy, in undies, freshly awake, with cheap drug store flashlight, crazy hair, looking toothless (and from a weird angle so it looks like I am going to the 7 1/2 floor in the movie Being John Malkovich) but the problem isn't. Funny, that is.

You can't imagine my luck with mice. Seriously. And I have a cat! What's the deal yo? It's not that I have them it's that I have them infrequently but can't just have a normal experience with them. UGH. Sigh. Okay, so...forgetting the old mouse tales for now and focusing on the current troubles...Norma (the cat) caught a baby mouse on Friday night. It was bed time, I was relaxed and I saw her playing with her toy - you know, the one that wasn't a toy. The poor little guy was about the size of a thumb and so cute. Of course, being a cat, she had to play with it and not mercifully kill it. He escaped - with my help - to the back of the bookcase (not my idea). The one nailed to the wall. With hollow space underneath but a panel on the front of the empty space. The space that little mousey could reach from the back but that I can't get to from the front...yeah, that. I could go on but will spare you details and get to the point. That little thumb sized idiot is dead under there. And guess what. He reeks. Not a little and increasing by the minute. The book shelf is built in (firmly attached to the brick wall behind it). I have been ripping, hammering, drilling, vacuuming and scooping (coat hanger) this morning for several hours now - to no avail. I am utterly repulsed. And totally out of ideas.

Needless to say, I am focused elsewhere today. Will resume weight obsession when I can inhale without gagging in my own home.

Always a Bridesmaid...

2007-06-15T17:27:00.000-04:00

Or maybe not...I don't know about yours but my grandmother used to say Nosirreebob. (No sir, Bob...whoever Bob was.) That is what I thought about this little get-up. It was a toughie. A friend who is getting married asked me to be a bridesmaid but selected the largest size of which comes in well, not so large. I tried. I cried. I felt so sad, embarrassed and sick. My pig behavior rears its ugly head again. And I got mad. Then I got determined. Though I felt pretty slaughtered emotionally, I saw this, at bottom, for what it was, the universe's call to arms! Back to the arms Lucia! And the legs. Tummy. Chest. Neck. Let's go Dollface! Mixed blessing - you know, it's true, clouds with silver linings and all that. When I am aware enough to realize (rare!) I am amazed that that universe/ gods that be/ karma/ mother nature/ the Tao is still looking out for little old me. Ah, in those rare moments I am full and peaceful. I must have done something right.

Standing in Anthropologie yesterday (a.k.a. the place that will officially bankrupt me the second I can wear their clothes. And I am warning you, er, warning me, that I am not far off), wrestling with my wallet over some beaded hair ties and some olive oil hand butter, I read a book. Well, okay, I read part of a book, several parts actually. Here is the part that I was meant to read, the reason I wandered in to the store after returning the dress that doesn't fit (see photo insert) to the nearby J.Crew (the reason this whole dress fiasco happened? Maybe. I can make a case for tracing it back that far... that's how important this part of the book was.) I know - the build up. I hope everyone reading this already knows it....(drum roll...I am such a pest!)...You cannot value others the way you think you can until you value yourself. I took two meanings 1) the obvious one and 2) I must dig myself more than I ever imagined. I love my friends so much and do value them beyond value so I must value myself in the process. Hopefully also obvious.

Activity today: sweating profusely in negotiations with the New York City Dept. of Education on a rare day when I was a real lawyer.
Don't sweat it (heh), today is my one day off in 7. I have to let my body recuperate. Yesterday I was so hungry, even Norma's Fancy Feast looked delish. And boy was it ever! (I know you think I am nuts but you didn't actually go for that, didja?)

Thanks for all the support. Let's just pick back up where we left off and call this thing what it is: a life. Work in progress.

TGIF!

Supplies!

2007-06-14T18:45:00.000-04:00

An Italian, a Irishman and a Chinese fellow are hired at a construction site. The foreman points out a huge pile of sand.
He says to the Italian guy, "You're in charge of sweeping."
To the Irishman he says, "You're in charge of shoveling."
And to the Chinese guy, "You're in charge of supplies."
He then says, "Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you guys to make a dent in that there pile of sand."
So when the foreman returns, after being away for a couple of hours, the pile of sand is untouched.
He asks the Italian, "Why didn't you sweep any of it?"
The Italian replies, "I no hava no broom. You saida to the Chinese-a fella that he a wasa in a charge of supplies, but he hasa disappeared and I no coulda finda him nowhere."
Then the foreman turns to the Irishman and says, And you, I thought I told you to shovel this pile."
The Irishman replies, "Aye, that ye did laddie, boot ah couldnay get meself a shoovel! Ye left th' Chinese gadgie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldnay fin' him neither."
The foreman is really angry now. He storms off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese guy. Just then, the Chinese guy leaps out from behind the pile of sand and yells...
"SUPPLIES!!

I am back. Get ready. The game is BACK on. I am so emabrrassed to have been away but you loves have called me back.

Today: hour walk, pilates. When I laugh, my body shuts down. Hey, I have abs. Who knew?

P.S.

The photo is of a "supplies" package I received recently from my mom. Yes, that's a heart potato and a mermaid faux-barbie. When Mama said there was no hope for me, she wasn't kidding. :)

Wanna peep at something cute?

2007-03-28T16:16:00.000-04:00

So, I have a friend who loves Peeps. He also is very good at nicknames. And uses Palomita as one. It's sweet. It means "little dove." I had not seen white Peeps before now. For my sweet nicknamey date tonight, I am taking a small treat... Notice anything?

(ha. I did a pretty good job!)

Sadam172002

2007-03-20T16:53:00.000-04:00

So many places to start (nearly a month after I left off). Probably no use explaining why the hiatus. In a word, work. And in case my colleagues read this, it is safer to leave it at that.

The theme of this post is that (cerrrtainly) some of nature's little boo boos are nicer than others (i.e. deformaposie trumps siamese twin... and these fine male specimens....)

On to the unhappy online dating adventures of a disgruntled urban piglet.

1) Username: Sadam172002. Dear Sadam, You may not have heard about this yet, but your chosen screen name is not a big turn on for American women. Thought you'd like to know. (Are you kidding!!?! If you are, then you don't know how to kid properly because we should both be laughing. - Ellen DeGeneres)

2) Username: Handsome(bunch of numbers): Yo. Misnomer. And that's pretty much all I have to say about that. But not quite. Since you vulnerized (yes, I can invent words here) yourself by writing to request "string free sex" from me, I will add to the misnomer remark. (P.S. How desperate do you think I look in my picture. Please consider well groomed hair, symmetrical features, all my own teeth, and nicely dressed as you answer this.) You are a dog. It's good that you describe yourself as "laid back." It's the only kind of laid you will ever be. No one decent (or indecent) is going to date the offspring of Cliff Claven and a mustachioed traffic cone. Hope St. Patrick's day brings you better luck in the future, idiot. And if you're interested in my feelings on flat tops? No. Not unless your're in kindergarten or starring in the Gomer Pyle show. Gawwwwly.

3) Sunday Honey: If you say you're 6'2, BE 6'2. If you say you're blonde, BE blonde. I don't care about these things except to the extent that you lie desperately and urgently about them. If you say you're investment banker with a big house in Connecticut (and you're obviously really not) BE that. Or just keep up the facade during the date so I can tolerate your short, cheap, pawing self while I finish my sushi. Nice trick of going to the bathroom while the check arrives. Try to touch me again and face exile into fast oncoming traffic along Amsterdam Avenue. Lost cause. And the follow-up email ("Hey you") Not cute. Also known as NO.

4) AlexinBrklyn: You are a disgusting pig. Call me a frigid bitch and guess I am even fatter in person? I am. I am loathesome, hideous, desperate and revolting. And even I wouldn't date you. :)

So this summarizes my weekly dating humor. (In fairness, I did have a couple of great dating experiences, but, as you know, those aren't nearly as entertaining!)

Wanna see me pull a ____ out of my hat?

2007-02-20T07:54:00.000-05:00

Well, nearly two weeks after my last post, it seems a little inadequate to explain that I have been consumed by work...but anyone who ever is consumed by work understands. I bet even you, the last stragglers, will give up on me soon.

Take heart, there is a story that is allll about that hat. On Sunday night I went to dinner with friends, good friends. (It's true, I could have blogged then instead of socializing but I hope you'll forgive me for taking on opportunity to be unchained from the computer.)

We laughed. One of the the diners was an actor in artistic erotic films (he stars in porn shorts) and his stories were riotous. He looked like a professor...and told me I had 1967 barbie hair and would "go down like an anchor." Er, pardon? The night was filled with vicarious flirting (them on my behalf while I watched with laughter and amazement), lewd jokes, and possibly literally - gallons of wine. It was a much needed retreat.

After dinner, we were saying goodnight on the sidewalk when one friend donned his hat...In 1999, the family for whom I worked as a nanny visited Vail and brought me the best hat I had ever had. It was cream colored fleece with a small tassel on top and the word "VAIL" in red letters on the side..."VAIL 99." I loved it but, after 7 years of loving it, I moved on to my Ski Dubai hat and donated the Vailie to an upscale thrift store whose proceeds goes to the GMHC in New York (Gay Men's Health Crisis...I think my dad just fell out of his chair). When the friend turned to me..."That's my hat." Out of everyone in this city, and the millions (true) who shop at the trendy Housing Works...my favorite hat had landed on the head of one of my favorite people. It was magic. And I was - yet again - reminded of how magic life is too. (Just in time!)

Cold as a...

2007-02-07T18:39:00.000-05:00

you know what!

It's so cold that:

- your nose hairs instantly freeze into a clump when you step outside and take your first inhale

- all the dog pee and punk spit freezes to decorate the sidewalks with vile biological polka dots

- the girl on the train with the Guinness long nails had to tuck those scary hooks into convertible mittens. (Seriously, I had never seen the likes of these. They looked like sloth paws! When she got them in her mittens and they brushed/ clicked together, it sounded like a bunch of beetle exoskeletons in a burlap sack. Chills of many types ensued.)

- you can't feel your nose run

- everyone looks like a burglar

- we all daydream of spring in the park - all day

- I wear my Czech commie hat while working at home. Thank goodness my face didn't freeze like this!

Could you?

2007-02-02T11:05:00.000-05:00

I pass this every day on the way to work. The bus comes LITERALLY within inches of it. I try to stop my mind from ducking right in the little cubby to see what's going on but I never succeed. So my morning commute, normally so pleasant and stress free (har) is violently interrupted while I watch some burly, freezing construction worker in his Carhart work clothes go poo. Thanks.

I marvel that someone consciously chose this as the spot for the porta-potty. Selected this over other possible locales. Obviously the privacy, isolation, aesthetic concern, and quietude were cleaaar factors. Call-A-Head? Oh how infinitely clever. What about just on the other side of the giant arrow? You know, the arrow that flashes and pretty much directs all passers by to LOOK AT the loo.

People have called me anal retentive in my life. I know what they mean. Compulsive. Neat. Maybe bossy. But park me on the middle of Broadway for my business and I am pretty sure I could live up to the real meaning. Good grief. I really couldn't do it. Could you?

Patchwork

2007-01-22T13:04:00.000-05:00

I am acutely aware (and more than rarely am - though not often enough) today of how our lives are a patchwork result of the people who touch us, their experiences flowing into ours. No man is an island, even the man who is sure that he is.

My news came this morning, in rapid succession - one friend facing birth, one facing death. The juxtaposition is breathtaking and awe inspiring. My usual emotional agility (insert hearty laugh here) completely replaced with the utter rigidity of shocking heartbreak, then instantly supplanted with wonder, then bouncing back to the emptiness that engulfs when feeling such a gentle, good heart pass. Today I am more them than I am myself, channeling the experiences of people I love. In the end, I am wrapped in this patchwork of pressed aluminium tiles that becomes a soft and welcoming blanket of life's twists as I and wish I could fold both friends in it and hold them tight, celebrating and comforting. I am not wrapped in the patchwork. I am the patchwork.

All that glitters

2007-01-17T09:04:00.000-05:00

Inside St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican City
I was certainly not struck by any modesty. None to be found. More holy than the excess (obviously), I found the art to be the holiest part. The place is beautiful. I wandered through, somewhat dazed, musing and gawking: dead popes behind sneeze covers, gold galore, flying stone saints, church leaders elevated to the highest parts of the architecture, marble inlaid in intensely detailed patterns, and the awe-inspiring (divinely inspired?) paintings by masters the likes of which the world will not know again. It was somehow horrible and, of course, utterly wonderful at the same time.

And then there was a similar feeling at the gold market in Dubai. Glory of God versus glory of man (well, ostensibly though sometimes it was hard to honestly say which was intended for which...) And there seem to be more tangible religion in the gold market - but only seemed (the veils?). Contradiction again, hypocrisy again. But beauty, again.
Human hands made both - the Basilica decor, the jewelry - from gold, nature, and element. Man and nature...praiseworthy indeed... to God, in the end.

Fulla

2007-01-11T08:52:00.000-05:00

Whoa. Sometimes there is so much to say that one can't really say anything. And sometimes no words are really necessarily. But afflicted with, most of the time anyway, a severe "case of incipient verbal diarrhea," I will say something anyway.... (that quote is from a famous and infamous Texas lawyer routinely sanctioned by courts for his inappropriate - albeit amusing - conduct.)
A cereal box with a covered Barbie-esque doll? Are you kidding me? Of course I bought it. And of course I looked for the doll too!
Fulla, indeed... I leave it to you to fill in the blank. Fulla _________.

Many lifetimes

2007-01-09T08:46:00.000-05:00

I love most those places I visit that make me feel as though I lived there before, at the right time, a part of the daily grind in another place and time. Standing inside the Colosseum wondering if the gorgeous lighting was just for me (ego, I know), I could practically hear the crowds filling the stands, smell their anticipation.

Since returning to New York, I have been surprised at the overwhelming loneliness I battle. Two weeks with family and close friends, constant companions, were so warm. The mistake was not preparing for the end of my personal utopia. Isolated at the office, I am floating, aware mostly of changes in the temperature around me. Unfocused and fuzzy. Hoping that this is mostly jet lag, I crank the ipod, eat something healthy, splurge on the occasional unhealthy treat of divine diet Dr. Pepper berries and cream. I am telling you - don't start! Dr. Crack is more like it. And wait for the weekend when I can try to reocognize my old self.
Two and a half hours of tennis last night brought immense joy and only slilghtly less fatigue. Music to my ears were the words (in heavy Egyptian tennis pro accent) "I was hopeful before. Now I am sure: you will be good." Even if it isn't true, I will certainly take it. Gladly. Back to the punisher tonight. 2007 could be a very good year. In this lifetime.

There's no place like home

2007-01-07T11:26:00.000-05:00

The holidays are over, the trip is finished, back to the grind... but taking far less for granted these days. Whie I have ABUNDANT criticism for this country and more than abundant criticism for its current leadership, I am delighted to be part of it. For so many, many, many reasons.

I began my vacation in Geneva with my mother, sister, and my mother's brother and his family (wife and four children). We relaxed on Christmas day and followed that with an early rising for a flight that took us to Rome. It was my first time to actually get to go inside the colosseum. I loved it so much but am now much more comfy with the notion that I did not miss my calling in archeology. That work looks way too tedious (a potentially hyper0ironic statement from a lawyer, I know). I will be posting some photos and descriptions of the ruins in the coming week.

A few days back in Europe then it was off to Dubai, a big city heralded as both western and modern. I suppose it is, in some ways. It was extremely clean and shiny... all the buildings seems to reflect the desert sun and the bright sky. Myriad foreign workers (Bangladeshi, Ethiopian) sweep ceaslessly, not missing a single cigarette butt (in no short supply), even underneath parked cars. The city seems to grow under your nose, with floors added to construction sites overnight. Very impressive. The people were kind but not overly friendly. In fairness, I don't know that I was either. I get a little strange when overstimulated, which I was the entire time. But it was the women, the more traditional ones, I should clarify, who seemed least friendly towards me. I still am not able to say all that I felt about them. Contradictory, to say the very least, is a description to which I keep returning.

At the gold market, the shelves dripped with heavy orange and ornate gold - necklaces, rings, bracelets, rings connected to bracelets, crowns. Opulence. Decadence. Excess. But for the many veiled women crowding the windows and counters, clucking and admiring, I was so curious.... black ghosts, no gold in sight.

Ho Ho Ho

2006-12-22T22:57:00.000-05:00

Off tomorrow from some Ho-in' in Ho-town, Geneva... the Lampoonesque Christmas trip will feature immediate and extended family in Switzerland and Italy followed by recovery alone in Dubai. In just days I will be playing tennis outside and skiing inside... whoa!

I hope your holidays and the new year are filled with peace of heart and truckloads of laughter.

Here's (picture me with a raised glass of ... well, fill in the blank with your favorite adult beverage) to you at the holidays. May your days be merry and bright.

A holiday chuckle (and accompanying rage)

2006-12-19T18:30:00.000-05:00

The title can also be, why men can be so disappointing.

I did not internalize this. But I do want to externalize it. I know it is long, but once you start, you won't be able to help finishing. And if you don't laugh, something is direly wrong with you. And me... like, I need to dye my hair blonde.

I wrote to a guy on match. He was not attractive but did have interesting things to say... was funny (a pirate at Halloween), smart (articulate, physician, patented inventor), and financially stable (owns his apartment building). I was nice, friendly.

His response:
i like your way of thinking. i'd be interested in dating you under a
ridiculous condition: you would need to go on a diet to become the
sort of woman that i see myself dating, as verified by steadily
decreasing weight each time i see you. call it the david diet.
i know, this is ridiculous. but there you have it. you seem great in
every respect except the excess weight. i myself am overweight; i know
it is not easy to lose pounds especially if it is done gradually and
healthfully. i think if you lost 30 pounds and died your hair blonde
you would be a gem.
so if you want to come over to be weighed and take a walk through the
botanical gardens with a delicious low-cal lunch, let me know when
would be convenient. or you could lose 30 pounds, post your new
pictures and watch me wink, along with hunderds of other guys.

Suggested responses from friend:

i detest your way of thinking. i'd be interested in dating you under an absolutely serious condition: you would need to have a complete personality overhaul to become the sort of many that i see myself dating, as verified by refraining from offering your views on how i should look at any time that I see or interact with you. Call it common courtesy.
i know, it is probably hard for you to fathom that this website is not about you telling others on it how they should look, but there you have it. you seem vile in almost all respects. i myself was raised properly and know how easy it is to be polite or, in the alternative, keep your mouth shut. i'm sure if you could refrain from making gratuitous unsolicited comments about the appearance of virtual strangers you might be a nice person.
so, if you want to change yourself completely and develop a likeable personality, let me know. or you could just never log on to this site again and watch me smile, along with every other woman here.

actual response by me:

Holy merde. After your extremely bold email, I almost felt entitled to curse in English to a total stranger. Being a pirate, that seems allowed, doesn't it? Except the not really being a pirate part. Oh well... David, I both loathe and very much appreciate your candid email. Such blunt honesty with a stranger is risky behavior - and belies total confidence on your part. Uh... so many ways to respond. Luckily, honesty really is the best policy: You are right. It is THE big hang up. I am ahead of you here... and down by 50 pounds so far. I know how to do it and actually do it these days. It will be a few more months. As you may imagine, some self esteem adjustments come along with that. It's sort of a weird spot - digging yourself enough to make really positive, healthy changes while really not loving the body to which you're making them. (And hoping for someone to be patient and recognize a diamond in the rough with just a little more polishing required.)Whew, after just getting the nerve up to stick my toe in the water, your email is like being pushed all the way in the pool by a naughty older brother. (Ah, I definitely got some water up my nose!) All that being said, I may have to wait for that wink after a few months. I don't know that a weighing would make an ideal first date (especially since we missed the Chihuly walk). The blonde part is a deal breaker...I may not (yet) have a rockin' bod but the hair is actually in pretty good shape. heh.Thanks for the interesting and inspiration email. (I am glad I am well on my way - that one was a doozy!)

His reply:

yes, i know what i said was kind of risky. i am glad you took it the right way (i think). i just couldn't stand making up some kind of white lie excuse as to why i am not interested. the fact is, aside from the weight, i don't see anything wrong with you. you are indeed a diamond in the rough. just get rid of the rough part and you will have the good problem of too many men being interested in you. men are stupidly superficial. it is dumb and not fair, but that's the way it is.i hope you don't do anything extreme with dieting. starvation etc. doesn't work in the long run and is very unhealthy. plus, it is even more painful than gradual weight lose through conservative dieting. while you are waiting to lose the weight, i'd recommend ditching the see saw picture.i wish i were one of those guys who truly didn't care how heavy a women is. there are so many of them such as yourself who are otherwise of great quality. but alas i fall in the majority there. really, i wish you well.

Suggested reply:

OK, seriously, he needs to be slapped.
what you said was not risky, it was rude. i took it as i take things from people who have nothing better to do with their time than lob criticism at the general public (with a grain of salt). i'm so sorry to hear that you suffered internal torment debating whether or not to make up some kind of white lie excuse as to why you are not interested, thank goodness you were able to put an end to your agony by sending your ridiculous email. unfortunately, i do see much wrong with you. you are indeed overbearing and self-involved. just get rid of the notion that anyone who doesn't ask for your opinion actually wants it and you will have the good problem of perhaps not inspiring in others the revulsion you have inspired in me. acknowledging that you are stupidly superficial is a good first step but accepting it and acting on it as if it is "the way it is" is pathetic.
trust me, i have no intention of taking anything you've said to heart so you needn't worry about extreme dieting or starvation. i'd recommend ditching the holier-than-thou attitude.
i wish you were one of those guys who wasn't a total disappointment as well but, as you say, that's apparently just "the way it is"

What I am thinking of sending:

You have felt abundantly comfortable to share your useless knowledge with me so I shall do the same.
1) I don't need your advice - about anything - and certainly not about health and dieting. In case you haven't consulted a mirror lately, you don't actually know how to lose weight. And I do. And thanks Dr. Conceit, every single male in my family is a physician. Even our dog. I am the first in a long line to reject medical school precisely for the reason that it turns normal, sensitive people in to God-complexed assholes like you. But thanks so much for that.
2) Manners: you probably didn't hear this since you obviously didn't have a mother (and that is usually who passes on the good stuff): If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. Also worth considering as an additional motto: Assume no one cares what you have to say you driveling, egomaniacal twerp.
3) In the end, this is a minor blip on the radar of online dating. But you do make me (and my myriad friends to whom I have now forwarded your photos and emails) want to become lesbians. Or nuns. Or whatever it takes to avoid contamination like you in the dating pool.
4) I may be fat but you're ugly and vacuous. There is a cure for what ails me.
5) I feel obligated to dispel any thought that you might, for a millisecond, think that I responded to you because of the way you look. That is NOT the case and I doubt it will be for anyone. You are so freaking lucky that you own a building. Sooo lucky. You are equally lucky that the women who might date you have not a single superficial cell in their bodies. Uh, obviously.
6)You are a pathetic excuse... nope, THE pathetic excuse for a "man." You should know better. You insult me then insult me further by pretending to do me a favor. Clearly one of us has an IQ that makes room for something other than inventions and judgments. Why don't you invent a muzzle? Then wear it.
You are as disappointing a man as they come - I have no doubt you will continue to disappoint. In every available area.
And in case you couldn't surmise, I don't actually wish you well... but you needn't worry, you are such a jerk, you will take adequate care of that on your own.
(As you furiously gather your tiny dim-witted thoughts of a possible response, relax. I blocked your emails.)
Merry Christmas!

p.s. I have taken the liberty of adding your photos and emails to the main page of www.dontdatehimgirl.com

p.p.s. About the see saw picture... I have some other ideas for the see saw, but you are clever inventor, I bet you can guess them.

You better be good...

2006-12-19T08:08:00.000-05:00

And it's not just for Santa reasons any more. A colleague and I did a presentation at work yesterday for the litigation department of my firm. I do not recall ever feeling the way I felt, before, during and after. I was shocked at what a nerveball I was - and how I can distort something soooo much. On one hand, it's true, the two heads of the department sat right in front of us, staring, unflinching and without smiling, while I stumbled through an outline I had rehearsed many, many times. I was trying to force down my throat the giant lump stuck there, the lump that tasted a lot like "they totally control your destiny. Be good or you're out." When it was finally over, the wave of relief that I had expected to wash over me like a tidal wave was really just a puddle. Yeah, of sweat under each arm that almost soaked through my suit. I had no idea I was capable of such sweating! I really do thank God it was localized and that my face didn't sparkle like a disco ball while I was talking. It did however shine like a large Rudolph nose and continued to hurt me into the afternoon as the blood pooled behind my cheeks and forehead refused to travel to a single other part of my body. I'm okay, I beat gangrene. As I sat at my desk afterwards, door closed, going to town on myself as I received congratulatory and praising emails that dutifully ignored in my self hate fest, I began to decide that even that part of my life is also about discipline. I don't think anyone naturally thinks "yeah, no problem talking about something I know little about, to 100 people who will judge me and who hold my career in their back pockets..." And it isn't reasonable for me to expect that from myself. I am human. I clutched a couple of times (the damn lump was practically choking me, for Pete's sake) and I had a giant pause that felt like the whole game was beating my ass in the quiet game. But after careful review (i.e. 5 hours of self-bashing) I can't think of what I could have done in my preparation to make it better. And so, as I walked to catch the bus, I smiled a little and decided to be pleased. Which of course made me feel quite entitled to the cab I took instead.

And as for my reindeer purse... you know you want it. It was a good luck and Christmas present from a friend (and colleague) who told me that her stomach even got upset for me at the presentation. Funny, scary, and very touching!

Weight today: 264. You may notice this hasn't really budged in a while. You may also notice that I am delighted with this fact. It means I am managing Thanksgiving, numerous guests in town, holiday parties, minor surgery and the instruction not to exercise, family stress, and tense times at work, without giving in to my bad old coping habits. Just keep swimming.

Centipede

2006-12-13T22:37:00.000-05:00

So this makes me think of a story. Someone said this looks like a scorpion. It reminded me of a centipede. (It can remind you that you have to wear plenty of sunblock if you are cursed old whitey like I am...) It is my second little procedure on the same spot - long story - and I have 12 stitches. I can say for certain that there is basically one spot that people pat when they hug each other. And I have 12 little stitches in it. Aware!

I was 9. My family had very different ideas of a vacation than we do now. Most families did then. There weren't many hotels that were fancy... like now. And certainly not so many in South Carolina. We went to the capital of my little state. And stayed at (ta-da!) the Holidome which was a Holiday Inn that boasted about its indoor/outdoor pool. Well, it was an outdoor pool, with part inside - and a FLAP instead of some sort of wall. So naturally, in the winter, it was useless. My interest in the pool instantly vanished when I discovered the arcade. Centipede. To this day, I adore it! I had played all of my quarters but one. I was rocking that little machine when a much older man in overalls appeared at my side. He made some vain attempts at conversation but only distracted me in the end...when I turned to tell him exactly how his chit chat was affected me, I became aware that he was involved in other activities pretty much unrelated to chatting, or Centipede but definitely related to little girls - if you're a pedophile. So, completely ignorant of what his behavior actually meant (or could have meant), I less than politely informed him that he was really bothering me and, worst of all, making me waste my last quarter when I was playing quite well. I requested that he please leave the arcade. 9. I knew what I wanted then and was so much more comfortable in asking for it. Where did that go!?
His sick conduct didn't even bother me enough to warrant mention to my parents until years later when I told my mother as part of the funny anecdote about that lousy hotel. And I don't feel worried or threatened or upset when I think about that day. I feel proud and a little surprised. Hilarious in the end, assertive little chica.

Centipede. A scar with legs. A reminder of my 9 year old prowess. :) Heh.

One day at a time

2006-12-05T08:25:00.000-05:00

My weight is going down v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. Crawling. This, of course, is no big mystery considering that I have been a giant couchon lately. Doesn't everything sound better in French? That's pig to all you anglophiles (well, not necessarily anglophiles but, you know, English speakers...). Lovely. Yes, a pig. My lesson here is that I won't always be a saint (again, no surprise there folks). The idea is to manage and not totally l ose control while recognizing that visits and parties and holidays still happen on the mission. I can enjoy them without going wild. And, more importantly, without shredding myself when I do enjoy them. I have reveled in the small moments that I begin to value myself as more than just a huge glob of fat. I like looking in the mirror and occasionally thinking "this is going to be okay. I will make it." A welcome departure from my usual convos with myself! My drastic plan to lose 20 pounds by the end of the year is drastically off track. I will shoot for 5 or 8 and realize that that is better than zero. Or better than heading in the other direction. I continue to remind myself that this is a process and I have to find something I can live with. (But really, I know that finding a healthier lifestyle is something that I won't live without.)
The park is getting cold but walking there is still such a pleasure. It's dog heaven in the mornings when they all congregate and misbehave like enthusiastic little puppies. Pure joy in fur coats (and, now, funny sweaters too).

Inner Beauty

2006-11-30T10:41:00.000-05:00

Well, I was mostly on track and making good progress until Thanksgiving. It wasn't so much the holiday food as it was the holiday pressure. Hosting guests in my tiny apartment is tough, especially if the guests are tough. Yeeeee! I had a great time with my mom in town. I will be posting photos of fantabulous holiday windows and other New York sights over the next few days. This may be my favorite time of year in the city. The energy, excitement, hustle and bustle. Everyone has a little glimmer.

A trip to the beautiful Mac flagship store on Fifth Avenue and fun with the computers there yielded this distorted beauty. Sometimes I think what I see in my mirror may be just as distorted but in a different way. Of course, this one made me laugh.

Thankful

2006-11-23T11:37:00.000-05:00

Thankful for my family. For my friends. For my health. For running water. For funny pets. For balloons. For air travel. For wealth - of so many sorts. Overwhelmed by gratitude. I want it to last.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Epiphinette

2006-11-19T23:51:00.000-05:00

It's a small epiphany but an epiphany nonetheless. And for me, an astounding and tingly start...
Baby steps. I walk almost every day now. A quick trip to the gym then a long trip to the park. I try to get a few minutes of intermittent running in there too. My stamina is improving and so is my motivation. Today, for the first time, the tiniest positive thoughts began to arrive on their own. It was amazing, light, surprising, wispy. It was almost euphoric... I can't remember when I ever liked my body. I have spent hours before a mirror, shredding myself, cursing, torturing, analyzing, scrutinizing. Today, I felt the first inkling of what it will be like to LIKE my body. To be proud. I ran on dimply thighs, chubbed out knees, a flapping behind and in the midst, a glimmer. I liked what my dimply thighs could do, what my chubbed out knees and thick ankles could carry. My swollen and achy feet that were taking me where I need to go. I liked my body, not for what it looked like, but for what it can DO. It is powerful. And it can obey. I can focus on my tummy and it can get smaller. I can dedicate time to my arms, and they transform. It isn't instantaneous, of course (uh, by any means) but my body is no longer out of my control. I guess it never really was... but now I have harnessed what it means to KNOW that. And I know it. A blessing.

Forgive me...

2006-11-14T11:12:00.000-05:00

It has been so long since my last confession. The main problem is that, unusually, life is so tame right now, that there is nothing really to confess. I am content and mostly calm these days, also unusual for me. It is delightful to feel sort of level. Mornings find me walking in the park every day, up to about 3 miles each time before I get to the gym - sweaty and proud. My tennis is finally starting to improve and I am trying to approach it from a more relaxed place. Fall is beautiful. Even in New York.

For body, I have set little mini goals and it is a fantastic way to tackle this. I am still on track - miraculously. I am so focused on the 10 pound mark by the end of the month and my weekly goals to help me get there that I can't obsess with how daunting the overall project is. What if I can keep this up a few more months!?!?! I am not posting pictures of me for just a little while then you can all have a surprise! (I hope... I mean, well, this is the plan.)

Baby on board!

2006-11-09T08:04:00.000-05:00

So I have had these for ages and wanted to post them but they were a surprise for someone who visits the site (who now has them)... some sweet baby blankies.

But liquor is quicker

2006-11-06T07:44:00.000-05:00

But not as fast as those marathoners yesterday. HOLY MOLY. It's one of my favorite days to be in the park (I mean, except for all the barfing that goes on...). I got up to go to the gym yesterday and it was closed so I did the second half of the workout for hte whole workout - walk and exercise in the park. I love to run on marathon day because I jog near the runners and listen to the cheering. (And I always feel lifted when I hear Adam's past chants in my head: "fighting for rights in satin tights!) Then I pretend that the cheering is for me (not so much the satin tights part really...) It is always very inspiring and gives me further evidence that I do, in fact, need my own personal and full time cheerleading squad. Yes indeedy. That's just what I needy. I had a blast and with the help of my new invisible shield (provided by my ipod. I mean, if I can't hear them, they can't see me. Rrrright?) I did lots of lunges and some squats. Why worry about the people at the gym when you can have an audience of hundreds in Central Park? But, see, it's okay because I am invisible when I listen to the "Call on me" remix on repeat. Good trick, eh?

On a side note, does sangria really count as liquor? Yeah, I don't think so either. And this picture doesn't really look like sangria but it sho 'nuff did taste good! Mmmmm. The good old days of last week. Yep. This picture looks gross. Like someone tipsy and unfocused took it. Oh well.

Feature story today: good friend got a gift from her new guy. It was a clapper. I LOVE the new guy! Best part: when she laughs loudly, her lights turn off. I have a little something up my sleeve for her too (birthday coming up). Apparently clapper man and I will be competing for ultranerdiest gift. Clap on!

Clap off to Boston this afternoon to see Tracey, faby designer of Stewart's birthday surprise (the stacking rings on Tracey's site), and my old friend Sarah. After a luxurious night at the Ritz, I plan to spend the day at a reinsurance conference tomorrow. CUT the jealousy. It's a public conference. You could have gone too. Puh! The late tomorrow night, Clairie for 5 minutes. Not long enough but better than nothing. Sigh. :)

Workout song of the day (and every day): Call on me.

Candy is dandy

2006-11-03T08:45:00.000-05:00

but liquor is quicker (photo for tomorrow's post will feature the visual for the second half of the brilliant Willy Wonka adage).

I could have gone swimming in this! A gummy candy lover's paradise in a market stall. How gross are the sour pacifiers in the bottom/front row!? I am not going to comment further because I am sure you can imagine what I might say. They also look like large uvulas. (I lied. Apparently I was going to comment further. Well then!)

Up early today. The jet lag is working wonders as I headed back to Curves after a several month long hiatus. It is such a great system there and NO mirrors! Amen you curvy geniuses! I have decided to go 6 days a week. Yeah, yeah, I know.

Just keep swimming. Even if it is through pools of gummy goodies!

Lest we forget...

2006-11-01T08:47:00.000-05:00

How big an ocean is. Wow. And how beautiful. And how big. And how HUGE. And how big. :) I loved looking at this. Good perspective is really helpful once in a while. I always wonder how there is room for all the whales and this lets me understand - just a little.

Spain was wonderful. The birthday girl was fabulous. We walked tons and laughed even more.

I didn't need a costume for Halloween. I was a zombie. Er, I still am.

Santa's little helper

2006-10-26T10:42:00.000-04:00

The elves are coming early this year little boys and girls... well, at least their shoes are. Maybe this is the universe's way of telling me what to be for Halloween. Er. Yes, this little gem got wedged behind the ironing board - apparently since last winter and it has a new hip-for-the-holidays shape.

Have I mentioned lately how grand Manhattan living is? I could not love my spacious - nay cavernous - home and more. Ahm, yes, complete with a walk-in closet with plenty of room for boots. (ha ha. joke's on me. I don't even have a walk in kitchen for heaven's sake!)

Last tennis game until Tuesday this morning. Had fun hitting around with a new partner! The weather is perfect. I will miss this until next week. I leave tomorrow for a quick jaunt to Geneva and Barcelona to celebrate little Sisky's 30th! Photos to follow...

Bake for 45 minutes at 350

2006-10-25T10:24:00.000-04:00

So three and a half hours of tennis yesterday have landed me in the land of sore feet. And sore everything else. And after a small (or not so small) lecture from my coach, I am humbly back on track with my lessons. I got a great reward yesterday morning when I ran to my lesson (YES! I ran!) and ran into an old friend from college who was running in the park and who is meeting me for a game in the morning! A fun treat.

My coach last night gave me the lecture. I was so tired and frustrated that I really heard (and hurt). You rrrush. You try to move too fast, too hard, You trying to cook something that takes 45 minutes but open the oven every five minutes. Is it done? Is it done? Is it done? And it's true. I am used to being able to pick something up quickly and this is not a quick pick up. And neither is THE THING. This is a process and it changes all the time. I have become ridiulously competitive and fiercly impatient. That doesn't serve me at all. I am so thankful today for lessons from the universe.

Made for Walking

2006-10-21T09:01:00.000-04:00

These boots were made for walking... and that's just what they'll do - unless they go hooking, because they sort of look like they were made for that too. Perhaps it is better to stick to sneaks for walking. Growing up in the South, I never would have thought I would call them sneakers. But now that I am a big tennis legend (in my own mind), I can't really call them tennis shoes anymore because those are something different. I suppose if I need to be all technical about it, I walk in running shoes. Ohhhh the irony, the confusion.

Big thanks to Carrie for helping me steer back on track this week. A good walk and talk in Central Park on a cool, fall evening got me turned around. Have walked each day since. Will walk today. Will tennis with Jen tomorrow (another savior and inspiration). And walk. And will walk in the mornings with Miss Carrie next week. My friends have been such a blessing in this. IN so many ways, supportive, funny, encouraging me to be more active, giving sweet (if possible untrue) compliments. I will be glad when the process is over. (The most gigantic understatement ever!) If for no other reason, to rid myself of the feeling that I burden my friends - with worry, with fear, with food, with withdrawal, with weakness. Yes, I will be glad to be done. I dragged my feet for a bit but am now surely committed (obsessively committed) to 20 pounds by 12/22/06. It can be done. Goooo boots (a small variation on whoaaaa boot, CLK).

Raging

2006-10-19T10:40:00.000-04:00

Today is one of those awful days. I don't know what triggers it and am equally clueless about how to turn it around. I am sad, furious, empty, and hot.
I found this picture (among many others) over the weekend and just rage and collapse when I realize what I have allowed me to do to ME. And I am still doing it. Dear Smiley, what did it feel like to have a waist? Oh really, can't remember? Of course not. Bitter old loser.
Trying to refocus. Unsuccessfully so far.

The next project...

2006-10-16T09:15:00.000-04:00

is underway. In addition to fixing myself (on and off track on this. Today happens to be on)...I am making something verrry important. :) Silk, sewing, ribbons. I have had two fabulously fun and creative weekends in a row. I feel so much more like myself when I am creating something. Even something little.

three sheets

2006-10-11T07:56:00.000-04:00

Well, ya don't say! Had a couple of drinks, eh?
Mayyybe.

Pimp Mamas.

Hollow Dreaming

2006-10-09T08:36:00.000-04:00

Do you ever wake up just feeling hollow? I often wonder if I am alone in this. I wake up and just lie there waiting. It's like I become empty during the night and morning finds me just a shell, waiting for something to occupy the space. A hermit crab? Clouds? Cotton candy? I always try to figure out if it is something phsyiological. I usually come up with yes and no for answers to that... This may be part of why I eat. To fill the void. And I think that must be non-physical. I think it is loneliness. I heard someone say once that New York's biggest irony is how lonely one can be in a city so densely populated. I don't go to bed lonely. I don't think about it. I don't notice that I feel it. And then I wake up and SCOOP. I am all scooped out.

Scarfing

2006-10-07T19:01:00.000-04:00

Getting into sewing these days. Maybe Project Runway is contagious. Or maybe I just got totally hooked when I went to the BEST fabric store in the whole world! Wow. I am getting ready to undertake a big and important labor of love so have to practice. Normally, scarf applies to the way I eat. A-ha. (he hee.) This time it is about a scarf. This is turquoise background with brown velvet burnout. It's fun to be creative. I have missed it. Tomorrow I have a day of painting and sewing lined up and am really looking forward to it.

Also, since the creative juices are flowing, I have thought of what I want on the wall in my new bedroom. My friend, the recently degreed interior decorator will do tan and pink and I want either a huge photo of or a shadow box containing pink feather angel wings. I realize how it sounds but it will be good. You know me, a little wacky. But in a good way. :)

Fall weather RULES. This week I may be brave enough to start writing about real stuff again...

EAT THIS

2006-10-05T08:31:00.000-04:00

Why is it so complicated for me? Just insert into open mouth. Chew. Swallow.

Struggling this week. So many thoughts/feelings swishing around there isn't even a good way to write about them. I hope it's just the gray weather doing this.

Looking forward to tennis on Friday night. Two hours. Fingers crossed for cooperative weather.

Let us eat lettuce. Gooood grief!

Sky Mirror

2006-10-02T12:49:00.000-04:00

Ah, the crisp (seemingly) clean fall air is getting me back in the groove. I am (finally) sleeping, eating right again, and chilling out a little. Overall, a happy report. I saw the Sky Mirror this weekend. The day was sunny and perfect. This is Rockefeller Center and the sky...beautiful and such a cool idea. Sunshine and fall weather is the best combo!

Now planning the trip for little Sister's birthday bash. Deciding now between Paris and Barcelona - oh, and which bank to rob to adequately support the splurge.

New recipe idea: parmesan crisps with goat cheese mousse. YUM. You just sprinkle a little grated parm on a non-stick baking sheet so when they bake they flatten into "chips." Goat cheese (low fat preferred) and a little liquid - cream, milk, half and half, whichever you like - in the food processor with garlic or capers or salt or herbs until smooth. Then into a ziploc (redneck's pastry tube) to squirt onto crisps. Serve with Crudites. Hey! Not bad. Nutritious.

I know, the recipe isn't neaaarly as cool as the sky mirror.
Weight today: 269. Good grief. No progress. My fault. My mission. My power.

Conspiracy

2006-09-27T11:15:00.000-04:00

Well, probably not acccctually a conspiracy but still pretty darn suspicious if you ask me. So, getting back on track these days (slowly but surely - more slowly than surely, really. Maybe slowly and surly). That means protein for breakfast. Like, well, CHEESE. A small babybel, light, of course. So I get it out of the little net bag and bring it (with my tomatoes) to my desk where I unwrap the cheese to find - TA DA! - a fliying disk instead of breakfast. They disgusied it in a little babybel packet. Clever. I tell ya. These babybel people are lucky I saw an old man in a white members only jacket on the bus this morning. Otherwise, I could have been a little miffed. Instead, I just thought it was funny. Life just keeps on throwing out jokes. Am I the butt? ha haaa.

Game ON!

2006-09-25T14:05:00.000-04:00

Back to the game today. Went this morning. And will go again tonight! I have been feeling so angry and irritable that I just had to go HIT. I am now totally and honestly in touch with why I love tennis: hitting helps with the aggression.

Feeling both goofy and grumpy (I don't actually mind that combination sometimes) has inspired me to share some important messages with no one:
1. Parsley is not a garnish! It has a taste and some people hate it. Please stop sprinkling it liberally all over cucumbers, asparagus, tomatoes, etc. and adulterating what was perfectly good food until you came along with your herb fetish. (This is for the lunch people across the street.). The same goes for onions.
2. Lassos are still allowed on airplanes. Good thing.
3. Raspberry lime Poland Spring sparkling water tastes like a popsicle and pop rocks. If reading this made you want some, you are as suggestible as I am, a marketer's dream.
4. Is anyone still reading this? Don't give up on me... even if I do sometimes.

Drifiting

2006-09-21T11:12:00.000-04:00

Today I feel like I am drifting. There is some comfort in this feeling. Some familiarity. Newswise, this has been an intense week for people I care about. I am just one small, floating head in the grand sea of things.

I managed to force myself to the gym yesterday. I am well aware that when things start piling up (and I don't mean pounds) that depression can get a leg up on me if I don't exercise. And so I did. I felt better. And will go again and feel better again today. Sometimes I just feel helpless. But, this go 'round, I don't feel worthlessness assocaite with it. Thanks goodness. My job for now is to support people who need it.

Wagons East

2006-09-18T10:29:00.000-04:00

Another good country weekend. Beautiful weather. Saturday night, I shriveled in some friends' hot tub in the Catskills and stared at the stars for hours. It was heaven. Much needed.

I have not been motivated to exercise or write or eat well. Just pretty blah these days. Lots going on, I guess. Time.

Arrrgh!

2006-09-15T07:57:00.000-04:00

Chipper this morning. Laughing. Went to bed giggling and woke up with the warm, happy laughter hangover that is totally precious. Today I am grateful. After a yucky week, I woke up with some clarity. And this is thanks to amazing friends: friends who check on me, inspire me, who cheer me, who encourage me, who listen to me, and who love me when I forget how to do it myself. I am ceaslessly amazed at the wisdom of people so young and so busy. I am grateful for friends who know me so well. For cake with candles. For long time companions who lift me up when I can't do it on my own. :) Just thinking these thoughts brings me back to where I want to be. Thank you.

Weight today: I didn't look. And, trust me, we don't want to know. Anyway, that's not what it's about today...

If only...

2006-09-13T13:48:00.000-04:00

confidence really did come in a tube. Ah, life would be easier. It would also be good if money, good looks and happiness came in tubes as well. (Feel free to add your own product ideas for tube-y convenience.)

My confidence has taken such a hit that I am going to need the whole tube. Crushed by my father's wife, yet again, I am reeling this week trying to figure out how to patch up and go on. In my mind, his silence during the assault was tantamount to complicity. It is so painful to wrangle through and with that one, trying to understand that there are forces stronger than love that can motivate a person.

Birthday Bounty

2006-09-12T16:19:00.000-04:00

The magic in the details is keeping me going for now. I don't like birthdays. And I don't like September 11th. I am, however, glad that I was born. And glad that I am still here to be glad I was born. Having a birthday on 9/11 makes it more of a Thanksgiving for me than the real Thanksgiving. In my little life so far, I have marveled and breathed and observed loved and relished and basked and enjoyed - much of it consciously really.

This little nest is a treasure. The light on the grapes was pretty treasuriffic too actually.

I have struggled the last few days. Family stuff more than anything. Re-reading my favorite book, I came across this sentence: "My anger was as big as I was." I could read it a thousand times and still feel myself liquefy each time. There is something true in that thought for me. And that I don't particularly relish. And so, for now, I focus on the magic details instead. What a tiny bird (with a tiny brain) to lay tiny eggs for tiny babies in such a tiny nest. The light on it. Isn't it beautiful?

33

2006-09-11T21:31:00.000-04:00

Grin and Bike It

2006-09-06T19:07:00.000-04:00

A little sunning, a little biking. Some dorking. Some drinking. A lot of eating. Oh man. This will certainly call for a do-over! I can't believe how much I have lost control. It has been a very relaxing time though and good news from the Boca front - we won our case. My faith in the judicial system is restored (for now). Just have to restore my eating plan to its former glory. I have noticed such a tremendous difference in the way I feel! And it is not just psychological. I am pleased to have had a small break without totally shredding myself. No merciless comments. No rage. :) Back to courts tomorrow. Sweet sister has promised to play with me every day! A-ha!

And now...

2006-08-31T16:24:00.000-04:00

Mmm. Done with my arbitration but stuck in Florida one more day while the weather gets better in South Carolina. What a wacky week! I am off from one beach to another. For now, I head out of my hotel (hallelujah) for a dip in some beautiful water. Another mmmm. Perhaps I will even swim. And burn some calories. Hey, now there's an idea! I am dying to get to vacation and find a tennis court. I practically had withdrawal this week! Whew. :)

Still waters...

2006-08-30T13:01:00.000-04:00

wavy waters, bubbly waters, tub waters, ocean waters, pool waters, bottled waters, falling waters (not teh Frank Lloyd Wright Falling Water). I love them all. Peaceful. Drinkable. Beautiful. Ethereal. I wish I could be more like water. Just be. (I do not wish I could be less of a dork though. Then I wouldn't take pictures of my shadow in the swimming pool.)

Here I Am...

2006-08-29T12:14:00.000-04:00

Rock you like a hurricane. (The Scorpions)

I am in Florida for work. Waiting for Ernesto to make up its mind. Eating like a cochon in the meantime. For those non-francophones, it's a pig. But doesn't it sound better in French? Ohh la la.

I am happy. It isn't always about weight. Sometimes it is about orange clouds and cotton candy heavens. Amen.

Surely you can't be serious.

2006-08-24T12:51:00.000-04:00

I am serious. And don't call me Shirley.

So this nice guy, Martin, runs a tennis clinic in Zurich, Switzerland. (www.mgbsports.org) and coaches tennis players and gives talks and presentations all over the world. This week, he is in New York because two of his players are dueling it out in the qualifiers for the U.S.Open. So guess who, out of the kindness of his heart and in total charity, gave me a pro bono lesson in the park. You guessed it: Martin! (footnote to story: I met Martin online over a year ago and had never met him in person nor ever thought I would when he called out of the blue before his trip here. I know, how bizarre, how bizarre. I bet you want that song now, doncha?) WOW. I have to say, I was embarrassed but I was able to get past that if it meant a chance to really learn and improve. I now feel totally correct in referring to myself as Tennis Whore. (i.e., Nothing I won't do for a good swat at some balls.) He is a phenomenal and very encouraging teacher. I will be accepting donations for the Lucia to Zurich tennis fund soon. Har har. What a treat and what a gift! Speaking of gifts, any thoughts on what I could give him as a thank you goody? Though he acknowledged (shocker) that I am not really a natural born athlete, (I know, scoop your jaws off the ground) he did assure me that I can be a player. Hello, I know that. Oh, uh, er, he meant tennis player, you fool! ;)

Weight today: Holding steady at 265. My chance of hitting the goal of 260 by the end of August is looking GRIM. And this is how it goes. Work in progress.

ANOTHER box of cremated remains?

2006-08-23T15:03:00.000-04:00

Well, what did you expect? Something picturesque? Predictable? A little Andrew Wyethesque? Ah yes, me too. But what do we get? Still life with rat traps and gel titty on the silver chest. Just when you think life isn't rich, you see something like this and realize it is.

1) Gel boob from the flea market in South Carolina. Can you believe the bargain of it costing a single dollar? Oh, life. Yes, rich.

2) Unrelated to 1). So, I reflect on death sometimes. Not in an I'd-like-to-try-it way but in a well, isn't-that-a-curious-topic kind of way. My mother's favorite game from time to time when I was younger was "Who are your pall bearers?" I still think about that when evaluating friends. You're a pall bearer - you're in. A mere funeral attendee - you're out. Like that. But now, this doesn't really jive with my wish to be cremated. I have refined my cremation wishes and they go something like this (very strict)... and my new idea allows everyone I love to be a pall bearer - of sorts.
Would like a funeral but more like a party. Hope people will feel free to wear wild clothes, dye their hair pink, and don platforms of all metallic varieties. (What, you say? This sounds like a circus freakshow? To that I say, So?) Then cremation. If you don't think about what it is, it actually is an almost yummy word. Mmm. Creamy. Creamation. Like making ice cream out of anything. Animation from cream. Yes, please. So, second feature of life after lulicious - and I realize this is a bit well, thinking outside the box. Forget sprinkling my ashes somewhere scenic. Forget tears and speeches and mournful tunes. Forget propriety. Just creamate me (not cremate. puh-lease!) and sprinkle a little bit of my ashes in a delicious recipe. Cupcakes. Rice krispies treats. Cookies. Meringues (I would look so good in that.) Fluffy, sugary concoctions with gobs of pastel frosting, silver balls, sprinkles, jimmies, powdered sugar. Distribute to loved ones. Serve with milk. And champagne.

And yes, I know this entry had precious little (okay, okay NONE) to do with the photo. To that I also say, So?

Thought/ retort of the day: So?

Just keep swimming!

2006-08-22T12:12:00.000-04:00

As you may have read before, when I hemmed and hawed about whether to wear a bikini, I wear one.

The last time I was at my mother's (before this past weekend) I found a signed "contract" in her dresser drawer.

It read: I will NEVER wear a bikini. That it GROSS. LB. My dad said, "when did you write that?" Me: June. Ha ha haa. I wrote it when I was probably 8 and thought that bikinis were just the final offense in the world of most revolting offenses. So proud. So, so, so proud. Just keep swimming. Bikini or not.

Raw

2006-08-18T08:30:00.000-04:00

There is only so much pretending I can do. I was pretending to be fit, pretending to be on my way, pretending to move ahead. While I suppose, technically, I am still making progress, I hit a wall today. Or, I guess I should say, one hit me.
Got up early, showed up for tennis with a new pro. He was perfectly nice but could barely hide his surprise when he saw me. I know it is probably weird for him to see someone overweight (really overweight) at a tennis lesson. He did fine until I think he started to worry that I was going to keel over. Yes, when I move around, I sweat and turn red. And, yes, I probably do it much more than people half my weight who have been playing tennis more than 2 months. He was so kind and asked me a bunch if I was okay, if I wanted water...I finally said, "I know I am out of shape but I am working on it. I have come a long way and you should not worry." I don't want to be treated differently. I can't bear explaining. Apologizing onve more time. I know despite my struggles, I look the same from the outside, to someone who has never met me. I sensed that he gave up on me before I ever got a chance to show I could do it. Which I can't. But I want to. I managed to wait until I got home to weep. And now I can't stop. I am so sad. All that I manage to avoid caught up with me today. It feels so awful. So raw. So helpless. So little. So sad. The manatee. I think, intellectually, at least, I know this is temporary. Unfortunately, I have not been able to connect that thought to the tear ducts. Punched.

Hoover, but I hardly even know her

2006-08-17T13:41:00.000-04:00

Its photo is small but the machine is powerful. According to epinions, it "sucks so hard it could leave hickeys!" (no joke.)http://www.epinions.com/content_32755519108

My housekeeper has complained for months that my fake vaccuum cleaner can't get the cat hair out of the rug. I am sure it can't do much more than that. I tried to politely explain that I could either afford a housekeeper or a new vacuum cleaner, but not both at once. So, I have now capitulated and am the proud owner of a hickeymaker. It was shipped, because there is no way to receive it at home, to my office. Well, this was embarrassing. But nothing like getting it home... As usual, I thought approaching the situation with humor was the best idea. I took the attachments home in one trip and then body last night. I got myself all psyched up, dressed appropriately (no flip-flops) and made my plan: quickest cab I could get. Got down to the street with hoover in tow and brow in furrow. I was concentrating on theme song options and lamenting the lack of videographer to document my plight (which would later be set to appropriate theme song). Because I had taken the handle home in the first trip, I had to carry this pup like a kid, slung on my hip, both arms around. I was tickled. Then, a woman walking towards me started to giggle. Then my theme song came to me: hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...hi ho hi ho hi ho. At the same time these two bolts were striking, I was going for a near head on with a well tanned (though not naturally) much older woman - had to be a Florida retiree - with a red and white striped sequined shirt who had DIPPED herself in a vat of old lady perfume. I short circuited. While trying to say something witty to the laughing woman and simulaneously sub-consciously trying to name that perfume in one note, my brain crossed wires. I laughed and growled "Youth Dew!" Then just hugged my little sucker and laughed all the way to the corner. I love my life.

No Pain, I Gain

2006-08-16T08:00:00.000-04:00

Well, not exercising is NOT working. I know, big surprise. I feel mostly tired and don't get motivated. Happily, feeling sick of being a fat, greedy American (in other words, a typical one), is getting me interested! I have been so ashamed of how greedy and self-centered the average American is. I forget because my friends and colleagues - and for that case, my neighbors and many New Yorkers - are compassionate and informed, fit and generous. A trip to the movies reminded me of the others. The theatre was filled with people ages 14+ (mostly, except for the brilliant parents who brought infants, toddlers, and young children to see a horror movie). They burped (and worse), screeched, cursed, shouted racial epithets and screamed. For the ENTIRE movie. I was shocked. I still am. But even more than surprised, I am disappointed that we are becoming a culture of MEs. What am I saying? We have already become. I seem to have become that too. Outwardly, my body tells people "I don't care if I eat more than my share. Me!" And I do care.
Not exercising for a few days has cost me. I took a several day break from tennis because the "wound" (that makes me laugh) on my shoulder was still healing. Yesterday, it drove me so crazy that, when the doctor's office was unable to see me until Friday to remove stitches that were growing into my skin, my brave friend and co-worker TF removed the stitches with some cuticle clippers at my desk. My phone call to the doctor that followed the procedure (har har) har) was, shall we say, less than pleasant for the receiving party. Evil. Sometimes I revel in stuff like that. But this really was too much.
That said, stitches out, lunch cooked, walking shoes on. Fresh out of excuses. (What does "fresh out" mean? What a weird phrase. But it makes me smile. I feel like an old-timey fishmonger or store clerk.) Off to work. I used to love what my friend D said at the end of a bad day, "tomorrow is another day." And, thank goodness, it always is!

Oh, I don't mind...

2006-08-15T09:23:00.000-04:00

I just didn't feel like getting up today. It rained so there was no tennis lesson. And then I really didn't feel like getting up. Norma supported this feeling.

Okay, so despite my deep fear that no one is going to be able to love me in my current state (ugh, or ever?), I am trying - every now and then - to get back out there somehow. I am online and receive emails from short men telling me that they don't mind my height. This is infuriating. One physical trait (maybe the only one) that I am not remotely self-conscious of is my height. Who are these midgets to reassure me that is doesn't bother them that I am tall? Does anyone consider that it might bother ME to go out with someone who is a petite little girl-boy!? Whew. Too much. Should I give up? Just go ahead and adopt some more cats? Buy some aprons and start crocheting? I will try to focus on the story value. Sigh.

This morning's broken record thought: snooze button, snooze button, snooze button.

Today

2006-08-13T08:53:00.000-04:00

Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine, I'll taste your strawberries, I'll drink your sweet wine. A million tomorrows shall all pass away Ere I forget all the joy that is mine today.

To hear the whole song: http://www.ziplo.com/Today.html

Ohmmmm.

2006-08-11T11:28:00.000-04:00

The Alps from the airplane window in May. It's an old photo but I never get tired of looking at it. Of course, next time I see this view, it will be without lotion, water, or lip gloss on board with me. And my baby sister will be turning 30! Is the world getting crazier or is it just me? (He hee. I am running out of humor about some of this though...)

Well, on the topic of mountain ranges, I have news to report that my bosom (word that makes me laugh) is downsizing. I am delighted about this and wait for the magic moment when my posture springs back to normal a la slingshot style. Not far now, my little smurfs. I can summarize my feelings on this thus: no boobs is good boobs. Naughty smirk. What a dork!

Other good news: It's FRIDAY!
Other funny words: knapsack, salve, gargantuan. Feel free to contribute.

Desperate Times

2006-08-10T10:28:00.000-04:00

call for desperate measures. In other words, I wanted to eat this sno-cone. No kidding. You will be happy to learn that I summoned all my will power - and passed. No small miracle there.
I am finally starting ease out of the queen troll mood. Some of your reading this might not care but that's because you haven't been directly affected by my daily verbal tantrums. I enjoyed them all. Thanks for listening. Moving right along.... Whew.
This cone doesn't even look good does it? I just get obsessed (no hyperbole there, folks, I really do) with frozen treats when it's hot. I am single handedly making sugar-free popsicle's stock rise. Today I will work on making a somewhat more meaningful contribution to the world than that one.

Fabulous song you probably forgot about for while: Misled by Kool and the Gang. Reminder courtesy of Jen. Oh yeah!

One

2006-08-09T10:26:00.000-04:00

...is the loneliest number. Well folks, sorry to disappoint but the leprosy is back. That's a disgustingly prevalent thought these days: I am a leper. Untouchable. Unlovable. I guess I can wait a year. NOT. So, to break by bad mood streak, I started my day by going to the gynecologist. Oh yeah, that'll do it every time. Don't worry, at least I didn't have to wait long, only an hour. But with fun like that, it's worth the wait.
Is the sarcasm detector going off anywhere out there? I thought this could trigger it... sigh.
Well, we have one small improvement: blood pressure. 120/70. This is healthy. In my past, it has been as high as 140/90. I would call this an improvement. Also got some kudos on my weight loss. Unfortunately, I don't think my doc recanted her diagnosis of "pendulous breasts" which I saw in my chart when I peeked during the last visit. Is this a serious medical diagnosis? Who came up with this? (I am guessing it wasn't a woman or any kind of scientist who has ever heard of natural forces like, say, GRAVITY.) Whew. What does it say about me that being sarcastic and caustic (sarcaustic) makes me feel better? Perhaps you'll agree that this is a better course than biting.

This morning's weather is divine. Sometimes in New York, I almost forget that trees exist. The park reminds me that there are many - and some really pretty ones, with nice shade and kind, welcoming branches. Ahhhh. Breeeaaaathe.

Song I can't get out my head: One (as performed by Aimee Mann of Til Tuesday)
One is the loneliest number
That you'll ever do
Two can be as bad as one
It's the loneliest number since the number one...

Yes, Virgina...

2006-08-08T11:16:00.000-04:00

...losing a few lbs does make a difference! LB losing lbs. He hee. I try to look at this and feel some compassion instead of screaming "GROSS! How did you ever get anyone to hang out with you like this!?" Then I step back and realize that I look happy. I also look like a dummy/puppet...the lines on either side of my chin look like that. He hee.

A bad mood is just smothering me today. I can't figure out exactly what's happening right now. I am amazed at how my perception of my reflection hinges on my mood...happy= tolerable, sad= repulsive. GOSH. The bus rides in the morning are the worst. Introspection. Loneliness. Emptiness. Trying to see the good is a major struggle.

Well, after all, this picture makes me smile... in the end.

Today's theme song: Comfortably numb.

Pretty In Pink

2006-08-07T08:57:00.000-04:00

So, in keeping with my promise to do or get little treats for myself at various milestones, I have purchased a pink enameled collander. Or, when I am being particularly goofy, a hat. This is one more way I can remember to enjoy being healthy. Green beans, asparagus, squash, peas - they all look pretty in pink. I bought this for the last ten pounds though my weight has stayed up a pound...It will be okay.

I played tennis yesterday and went to the Holiday Inn in midtown where I paid $50 (yes, you read it correctly) to use their pool for a day. What I didn't know as I hemmed and hawed over whether to participate in the rip-off was what sort of people watching that money would buy. Beyond worth it. Mel the magician, 80, Dali mustache. The manager of the hotel, also Dali mustache. The 500 pound sunbathing smoke stack... rich rich rich! The hooker. The half drowned boy. The tattooed woman. All characters. All rewards.

Fun itune of the day (ipod song for the bus): Suddenly I see, KT Tunstall

Foolio (Double)

2006-08-05T17:41:00.000-04:00

Okay, how many times do I need to do this to learn? I think that is my life's theme: failure to learn from multiple lessons. Weight. Tennis. Work. Guys. Sunblock. (Sigh.) Okay, so I like to think of myself as vigilant about sunblock. Well, guess what. It doesn't work unless you apply it correctly. Sigh. X marks the spot. I am currently loving the word "nitwit." Does anyone know if that is with a k? Knitwit? Well, I am in good enough spirits today to withstand my own silly insult - with or without a k. He hee. Lotion please?

Well, here is a little glitch: my weight went up today. The beauty of this little discovery is that I did not freak out or fall into a day-altering slump. I rolled with it. I know I am on the right track and there will be ups as well as there are downs (hopefully in 10 to 90 ratio... but still). I can feel myself slowly accepting the process... and accepting that this THING is a process. It's funny sometimes. I think, "oh, doing well. I am sure it's a huge difference." And, I suppose it is a decent difference, but there is still a long way to go. A year of intense focus on my health is 1) totally contrary to my obsession with instant gratification and 2) totally contrary to my need to ignore myself. Ah. Here is what I am thinking. 40 down. This basically means that I have to do what I have just done two more times (and a little). Divide and conquer. See, I am figuring this out...

Weight today: (grr.) 266. An hour of tennis today and tomorrow, stubborn little pound, TAKE THAT! You can't stay here. And neither can your pound posse.

A stitch in time...

2006-08-03T17:44:00.000-04:00

My grandmother (and probably yours too) used to say "a stitch in time saves nine." I got five stitches today and that is my big news. I haven't had stitches since the bunny bit my finger off 29 years ago! Well, I guess now and then it's okay. So, I got a mole removed. I will have a big scar and look super tough. Downside" no exercise for 12 days. You think I listen? They should have told me that before I booked court time and paid for lessons. A.k.a., I will be disobeying. The nurse said that the worst that could happen is that I will pop a stitch. They can replace that... and I will have a scar anyway. Vigilante. Rebel. Tennis pro wannabe.

Took the day off work to do the "surgery" and chill (ha ha. Well, it wasn't 100 degrees today.) It was nice to just walk around and be mellow. Still figuring things out - as I will be. I keep trying to remember "work in progress." I got a sign from the universe today that I am doing right. While I was walking, an older woman walked towards me in a tank top. Her tank top slogan? Work In Progress. No joke.

Weight today: 265. That's 40 DOWN. Work in progress. It is slow but not impossible.

All Eggs in One Basket

2006-08-02T07:20:00.000-04:00

I am trying not to put them all in one basket. I did, however, dye all of them. In my quest to make this new eating business fun (and am succeeding, miraculously), I boiled all my eggs for this week in Easter egg dye. I felt like a total kook and enjoyed every minute of it. I am already laughing about putting them in the fridge at work.

I am again heading up to the tennis courts - for an early lesson. More than the need to beat the predicted 100 degree heat, I am desperate to play with people who can actually play which necessitates some serious catching up on my part!

Pearl Daddy's comment to yesterday's entry was so thoughtful, not to mention helpful. I am again happily reminded to be grateful. Gratitude and a regular focus on it are helping me turn some of my crazy mean thoughts around. I can't really hate my legs at the same time I am loving them for holding me up and carrying me through amazing adventures or terrible troubles. I can't curse my fat hands while focusing on the fact that I have both of them - and they have held babies, instruments, foriegn stones and coins, and - well, of course- delicious food. You get the idea. Thank you Pearl Daddy!

Hoppy Wednesday! (CM always says "Happy Humper" which makes me feel like a naughty third grader. Giggly.)

Fun walk to work song: And She Was by Talking Heads
...
And she was looking at herself
And things were looking like a movie
She had a pleasant elevation
She's moving out in all directions

The world was moving and she was right there with it (and she was)
The world was moving she was floating above it (and she was) and she was
...

Thanks But No Thanks

2006-08-01T08:47:00.000-04:00

Okay, so it's not a cat's lunch of choice. Probably not mine either. But my choice is to take care of myself which sometimes means a weird lunch: cucumber slices, steamed spinach and baba ganouj. Each time I feed my body, I have a choice. I never really thought about it that way before. When it's time to eat, I can give my body something it wants, something it can use or I can give it something worthless thatit will store in a special container known as a fat pouch. I am no kangaroo and have no use for pouches. Or paunches. Or ponchos for that matter but that's a separate topic, isn't it?
Early morning saw me on the tennis court today. I have made a commitment. I think about my choices each morning: to wake up with a mission, focused, to eat in a way that brings my goal closer, to find physical activity where I can, to say slightly gentler things to my reflection. This last one is the hardest and I know it is the most important for long term success. I still don't naturally think "I deserve to feel good. I deserve to look good. I deserve to take care of myself." Still, I am not missing my comfort foods that I now know are the sabatoge tools. When I approach my worries and shortcomings in even a slightly kinder way, I need no ice cream, no fritos for breakfast, no candy. Those foods mean (to me) "you are an awful person. Feel awful. You are nothing. You are invisible. " And they help me reach those goals - which is what they become when self-hate is my mantra - of being out of touch, numb, invisible, a lard ass. Chubby. Fat. Lazy. Corpulent. Slovenly. Good-bye frito breakfasts. Find someone else.
I have begun to understand, however small my progress is so far (and relatively speaking, the weight loss so far is small. The other progress, muuuch less small.) that I can design some parts of my life. For the first time that I can ever remember, I have started to feel tiny twinges of being in control. I feel less "drifty" and more"designy," becoming more of a participant in my life. I enjoy getting up earlier, cooking in a rush in my towel before work. I like to think about the sacrifices I make to be healthier and then to focus on enjoying making them. This is going to take a long time. And it is going to be worth it.

Finding Peace

2006-07-31T10:21:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I was consumed with the events in the Middle East. I am so sad for those affected - and the region - and wonder if there is a way to find peace. Any kind of peace.

I tried to relax and through the day, began to focus some on finding my own peace. This weekend was big for me (aside from my obsession with the "Crisis in the Middle East"). I spent most of it by myself. This is not new. What is new is the fact that I felt happy and occupied. This is a major discovery. I was full and I can't start to understand what has changed. I am working fast to digest it though because it is magic. Losing the weight and replacing it with confidence and an interest in spending some time with myself. I decided not to be afraid to confront the feelings that crawl all over me when I am alone. Insecurity. Terror. Sadness. Unworthiness. Shame. They are being slowly replaced, as I battle them, with curiosity, tiny flecks of tenderness, forgiveness, patience. Ever baby steps. And that's okay too.

I am so in love with my friends (including the ones related to me) today. I was thinking about each of them last night, what they are, what they give, what they accomplish. I am incredibly grateful to be surrounded by such a powerful and ceaseless support network. Feeling their love is helping me try to start seeing myself, for the first time, through their kinder eyes.

Weight today: 268
Happy Song of the Day: Friday I'm in Love by The Cure
Yummy meal idea: fat-free refried beans with salsa, avocado, a little light cheese and onions. I am a stinker but a healthier stinker.

Saturday, In the Park

2006-07-29T09:12:00.000-04:00

...I think it was the Fourth of July. (Old Chicago song)
Saturday in the park means tennis now! Played with Jen again this morning and had a blast. We laughed and laughed. We had the good fortune of getting the shady court. I am more and more into it. And love that it is exercise!
For food, I have been sticking to my plain old plan of not eating it if it isn't food. This works. I have totally cut artificial sugar of any kind, alcohol (sugar), and anything refined. I feel like a million bucks. But not a million pounds. Go Lucia Go!!

Weight today: 270. Ha ha. Only 100 more to go....but just thinking 20 for now. No problem.
If you think that just a few pounds doesn't make a difference, check my entry from June called "follow through" soooo much less gut hanging out. Hot.

The Incredible Shrinking Woman

2006-07-28T11:05:00.000-04:00

OH MY!! It's working. Amen. Hallelujah. Keep going keep going keep going. NOW I am excited!!

Wonders Never Cease

2006-07-26T13:30:00.000-04:00

Wonders never cease. I am staying on track still, a.k.a. I get by with a little help from my friends. My weight has finally starting to take a nose dive. FINALLY. I am feeling better physically and psychologically. I have stayed off refined foods for a few days and feel healthier already. This gets me back to my brilliant idea of not eating things that aren't food. Seems simple, doesn't it? Yeah, cheetos aren't food. (I can hear the whispers of "dang" right now.)

I got a great book that has been helpful to me and is probably useful to anyone who has "food issues." It's When You Eat at the Refrigerator Pull UP a Chair by Geneen Roth. I think I may have mentioned it before and I am just getting into it now. It is an emotional read for me but I figure when is now a good time... I have lost and gained weight my whole adult life. This time, when I get to my spot, I will not be leaving it. I need to make sure I know how to stay there, to say the right things to myself, to see my reflection the right way.

While I sometimes think that this whole quest (including the blog) are just too selfish for words, I remind myself that I can help no one when I am sad and unhealthy... I hope that's right!

Little Cabin in the Woods

2006-07-25T15:29:00.000-04:00

Saw a rabbit hopping by, knocking at my door... Back and back on track! Chicago was tough, a lot of sitting, a lot of listening but a great city and a good chance to bond with colleagues and try to figure out my future. A little down time in Woodstock also helped. (Plus, I saw a baby deer with its mother. Squealfest.) I have been passive about my life for a looong time, way too long. I am slowly but surely trying to think of ways that I can more actively design it. I need to be a participant and my own life leader, not just a drifter waiting for something external to steer me. Am on a mission with some friends these days. No carbs, no sugars, no exceptions. Not going it alone is like drinking a magic potion for me. Amen!

Hiatus

2006-07-19T08:13:00.000-04:00

Well, the time has come for a small hiatus. NOT from trying this thing... but from the blog. I have to go out of town for work and will not be able to write until Monday. Hopefully I will look completley different next time I post photos. That's the plan!

Schnozberry

2006-07-18T10:30:00.000-04:00

Anybody remember that part from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (original) where Veruca says "schnozberry, who ever hear of a schnozberry?"

Well maybe this is it! World's biggest blueberry here on display. I love all that 4-H stuff at the fair - the big pumpkin, the gourds, etc.

I ate this. It was sweet. All my daily need of antioxidants in one fell swoop.

Smart Woman in a real short skirt

2006-07-17T10:54:00.000-04:00

Any Buffett fans?

I’m looking for a smart woman in a real short skirt
Smart woman who knows how to flirt
Smart woman got a mind of her own
Smart woman that’ll take me home
Take me home

I don't think he meant tennis skirts but it sounds positive to me so I will take it. I always wanted to sweat all the way through my shirt! Looky! Look at the back. Yes, it's sweat. You are sooo lucky this is not a scratch n' sniff blog. Whew. Yep.

Pretty discouraged today. Not doing something right and too busy with work to figure out what I am doing wrong. I should be LOSING at this point. Grr. Patience my little smurfs.

1000 somethings

2006-07-14T10:53:00.000-04:00

A photo is worth 1000 words.

It may also be worth
a) 1000 freckles
b) 1000 almonds
c) 1000 dorky expressions
d) 1000 giggles

Everyone Agrees

2006-07-13T07:47:00.000-04:00

Everyone agrees U suck Lucia. That's what it said, this midnight text message. I laughed. I still laugh.

It was pretty much the first time I ever stuck up for myself with a guy who was not nice to me. It was a couple of glasses of wine. At first it was fun, sweet. Then it was sour, less fun. He drank to much. He said mean things. Normally, I would stay, work it out, apologize (when I did NOTHING wrong), grovel. Driven by the fear of being alone. Not this time. My knees were jello when I got in the cab. They were decidedly less jello two blocks away. Five blocks away, I was giddy. So THIS is what it feels like, I though. When his text message got to me, I was so proud of doing it that I actually read the text as "you sTuck Lucia." It is my badge. It means it worked.

My father, also heavy and always working on it, wears a special machine to help him sleep at night. I tried it on. Though it is relaxing, I am not keen on wearing one any time soon. (But my wearing his sure did make us laugh.) Today's photo will remind me to keep up the mission. Or else.

Weight today: 273.4. I am going to wait a little while for the next report. Y'all deserve a good surprise.

Speaking of surprises: Brittany sent a great book that I am just getting into. (Check out Eat, Move, Be Healthy by Paul Chek http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1583870067/102-0577768-6335361?v=glance&n=283155. I originally got the title wrong and subconsciously typed "Eat more, Be Healthy. Der.) I have long recognized the power of random surprises arriving by mail but seldom experienced the joy of receiving one. Thank you Brittany! If you'd like to put your name on a list for random surprises (the good kind, of course), please send your mailing and email addresses to LBauknight@gmail.com. No junk or spam. Promise!

Rose Colored Glasses

2006-07-12T09:01:00.000-04:00

Took this photo through my sunglasses. (This is a cool trick Claire taught me in Prague. Check out her work at http://clk.my-expressions.com/index.html.)

I have needed these rose colored glasses lately and have become aware that I don't wear them when I should and wear them when I should not. For myself and for others I rationalize, excuse, explain. I rarely confront others for fear that they will abandon me or that they won't like me. Even strangers. And then there is the way I let myself misbehave too. I realize that this is inconsistent with how harshly I talk to myself but it is the yo-yo of bad behavior, rationalization, vicious condemnation that keeps me on the fat train. I mean, decide. If I am going to be viciously strict and unforgiving, well, be consistent for the love of God (best uttered in Tommy Boy by the late Chris Farley. And don't get me started on how someone can make a career of making fun of one's fat self. Destruction.) So how about this: no excuses for a little while? Just go with the harsh talk. Listen to it and let it guide me. There's a reason the inner voice is so ticked. A drastic change from self-love and sweet talk.

This week is rough. When a person I love is in distress, I suffer too. It's so hard when there seems to be nowhere to go with some super intense emotions. Ordinarily, I have turned to food. Not this time. Not for me, not for the people I love, not for my family or friends in turmoil.

In general, there is a build-up and no outlet. The fastest and most familiar/comfortable fix is food. Overeating is an instant numbing agent. I have, for the last few nights, forced myself to just sit with it, whatever it is. To feel it and experience it. It is revolting, overwhelming, terrifying. And, eventually, the intensity of whatever I am feeling passes. Without ice cream. Without cookies. With time and attention.

I am discouraged today and realize that fewer and fewer people are reading this. I am not inspiring and have not lost weight to say "look what I've done." I am refocusing my routine today and will stick to cardio for a bit and less weights to try to bun some fat pounds and just feel more motivated. I think of you each time I do it. Each morning. Each decision juncture. Don't give up on me. (Yes, I was saying that to my rose colored glasses self too!)

Serenity Now!

2006-07-11T08:30:00.000-04:00

Deep breaths. Eaaaasy... So I compose the CL, comprehensive list of reasons I want to change. And then I will make the list of reasons I suspect I desperately hang onto these horrid 90 extra pounds, almost a whole extra person!

Things to change, reasons...unpleasantries 1. clothes. The tall boots that are in style do not fit me. The ruffled skirts for spring that are so flirty and feminine won't work. Obsessionion - it cannot be more exhausting to walk down the street and focus on the bodies of every person I pass, letting my mind wander from conversations, ideas, tasks at hand. Stretch marks on my legs, waist, even arms now. 4. Sitting - positions in which to sit in a chair are limited by my rhinocerotic size. How about airplane seats, desks, subways, cars, etc. 5. Sweating - it will decrease. 6. Poor legs - rubbing together, coarsening the skin, blistering in the process 7. Paranoia - enough said 8. Ankles - I can get sexier legs when they have ankles. 9. Lingerie - from every day bras to the real deal, the best lingerie is in smaller sizes. no question. 10. More energetic - its is tiring lugging all this around 11. Can have conversation while walking up the stairs. I will not be out of breath from taking the stairs 12. Make others feel more comfortable 13. Double chin can go. I can FEEEEEL it! 14. No more snoring. 15. Cuter booty on the bike seat 16. Will be more agile 17. One word: Health 18. Bones in my chest - not the shoulders, the neck bones. Pronounced supersternal notch. 19. Can I please stop tugging on my clothes all the time! Goodness! I see people on the street, one jerking her bunched coat from under her backpack, another pulling a Tshirt tenaciously clinging to an oversized backside. That is me. That is me. That is me.

Steps to achieve it. 1. be conscious of my goals at all times. This is hard. Internalizing that this is what I really want is the most difficult part. 2. Be disciplined and rigid. Exercise without excuses. 3. Do not buy groceries or any food ever that do not contribute to my goals. 4. Surround myself with support system to a) check up on me and b) inspire me. 5. Think CONTROL and EASE. 6. Improve one little thing each day, something that makes me feel good. Take better care of my nails or use lotion on my face or shave my legs or whatever little thing happens to work that day. DO IT. 7. Be aware of my posture at all times and maintain the stance that someone who loves her body would take. 8. Listen to music that energizes and motivates me. Most people underestimate the power of music as an anchoring tool. I made a tape of songs I like to dance to when I used to go out and play them at the gym. I use music that makes me feel sexy. This helps me to visualize while I am exercising. 9. Eat when I am hungry. Something little, ssomething thatthy, somethingthat makes progress and something delicious. TASTE IT. Savoring each bite makes food a different experience. I will eat not to escape or to hide but to nourish and pleasure. I will eat because that is part of a healthy lifestyle. I will not overeat because I don't need to. I am a clever girl and can surely figure out another way to express my frustration/fear/anxiety/sadness 10. Realize there will be ups and downs. Learn from them. Enjoy them, if I can. 11. Write. Write. Write. What I eat, what I do, what I feel, what I buy, what I wear, what I think or say. This keeps my goals closer to conscious awareness and focuses me on my plan and purpose. 12. Have a little faith. Trust. My body knows what it needs. Be open to its messages and obey its wishes. 13. Become uncomfortable in the old body and imagine the new. There is a fine line between making myself uncomfortable enough to want to change and self loathing. Mastering this step will not be easy. 14. Visualize. All the time. The sooner I see myself as I wish and plan to be, I will have a concrete goal to work toward. 15. Don't be so harsh on my reflection. I never look in the mirror at the gym. I will start to look and focus on change. There are lots of opportunities to be seen there. 16. Relax. Take your time. No stressing or rushing. Set small realistic goals then take them down one by one. 17. And reward yourself along the way. NOT WITH FOOD. 18. And do keep a record of that progress. It is affirming to be able to look at something tangible - a chart, book, journal entries, pictures.

I can't forget where I started. Going back is a nightmare.

Serious goofball

2006-07-10T07:51:00.000-04:00

Ugh. Monday again. Work will be crazy this week so I am dreading it.

I got up early this morning to go to the gym. And then I didn't go. Then I made all sorts of promises about going later. I am still hanging on to those but have a secret (or not so secret) bad feeling. I have set a mini-loss goal for the end of August, 15 pounds. This is certainly do-able. But only if I exercise. WHY DON'T I JUST GO?What is it!?

Goal for the day: Go. That's it. That's all I have to do.

Grumpelstiltskin

2006-07-09T09:36:00.000-04:00

If you are ever grumpy, and you see a sign like this, no matter what, it will make you laugh. This happened to me when I was stuck in traffic. I had not budged for 20 minutes (literally - not an inch). My previously silent and diminutive Chinese driver erupted in a sudden flurry of odd and misinterpreted profanity - that itself should have made me laugh. I sighed and looked out the window. To this.

I am grumpy this morning. So far the billboard isn't helping. I guess one has to see it in person. Maybe because it was hot in my bedroom last night. Maybe because I have work to do today. Maybe because I am lonely. Or maybe it's because I am as big a house. Yeah, I think that could be it. Grrr. I am trying to be positive today and internalize all the good wishes from y'all. I sliced cucumbers at dawn, put cabbage slabs into little baggies to lunches so I don't screw up this week. All the time I was painfully aware that Sunday mornings are for brunch, a sweetheart, and a newspaper. None of which I currently have.

I am going to figure this out. I am just going to keep going. Finish the kitchen, hit the gym, do my work. I don't have to be a deliriously happy glowing joyball every day. An old friend used to tell me "It's not always Christmas." No kidding.

I pooted.

Box of Cremated Remains

2006-07-08T14:56:00.000-04:00

What does a box of cremated remains have to do with weight loss? Well, except in the most obvious and bizarre way, nothing. I mean, I guess we weigh less after cremation...

So, the downtown boat basin allows freaky New Yorkers to "rent" kayaks. It's free but I don't know what to call free rentals... Anyway, I went today. I packed my little back pack with my tennis racquet, water, pink tennis balls (for breast cancer research donation and to distinguish my balls when they fall all over the other courts), and phone (hey, I remember what happened on the last bike ride. I don't know if that kind of karma strikes twice). I went to the little kayak place, ever seeking physical activity that doesn't make me want to bite someone. Aside from the dirty old man signing people up (dirty - literally and figuratively I'm afraid), the experience was totally positive. I even managed to just suck it up and wear my bathing suit bottoms. Oh man. That was tough. Done.

So as I was waiting, and talking to other kayaking hopefuls, I asked one of the volunteers what would happen if the water splashed in my mouth. It was mostly a joke but I know what is in that river. (gagging sounds.) I asked if any kayakers ever discovered dead bodies. He acted like that was ridiculous. Then he added, rather quietlky, that a few weeks ago, someone found a box of cremated remains. My strange and funny rewards come in all forms.

I am so proud that I went by myself. I felt goofy. But I also felt like I am making progress. I listen less to the mean voices. Even when they tell me that a more fully covering bathing suit might protect me from the boxes of cremated remains in the Hudson!

Independence Day

2006-07-06T12:38:00.000-04:00

Well, a little late for the Fourth but an independence day all the same. Went to the beach for the holiday and the getaway was needed and fun. There will be numerous posts to come that celebrate the amazing weather and unique beauty of the "low country."

So for this mini-independence day, some declarations:
I will be free from paranoia.
I will be free from eating food that isn't food. (Cheetos, sadly, count as the latter, damn it.)
I will be free from obsessing. This won't happen in a day.
I will be free from oppressive idiots who run the country. Wait, not yet.
I will be free to exercise and enjoy it.

What I will not be free from (apparently):
People who eat dirty diapers for breakfast, wash it down with coffee then breathe on my while I ride the subway.
Dog owners who just don't grasp the "curbing" concept.
Horns. Jackhammers. Public vomit shows. Annoying accents (possibly including my own).
Bad drivers.
Hey, we do what we can here. (Sigh.)

On the anniversary of Americas' independence, I focus on being a better American. On taking care of myself and striving to contribute more than consumption. I am grateful for running water, climate control, the luxury of speaking my mind, nutritious and affordable food on every corner, supportive ad loving family and friends, my education, the melting pot. This is quite a place. (Amen.)

New food discovery: chicken hot dogs - yummy with or without sparklers.