Archive for May, 2009
That’s really all I have to say about that. Without my cheese and Asiago Parmesan dressing (okay, and croutons), salad is not a happy place. You know that face most babies make when they taste their first pickle? I’ve done that a lot lately. I also do that when I see babies.
But whatever. I’ve lost 13 pounds. Leafy greens are a necessary evil if I want my new shoes soon and then my new tattoo. I got my dress…I can’t find pictures of it online, but trust me. It’s totally hot. Maybe not so much on me, but in general. It does make my boobs look good, though. You know you like it. Anyway…
I think pet owners can appreciate this. An open letter to my dog and cat:
I really don’t need supervision when I pee. It actually makes me uncomfortable to have you follow me in and stare at me while I do my business. And cat, I really don’t understand why pawing the shower curtain rapidly while standing on your back paws provides you so much entertainment, but as long as it does, I will continue to harass you and make you fall in the tub. I need my entertainment, too.
Dog, I’m sorry we used the Cesar Milan method of training on the cat and you don’t understand that “TSSSSST!” means “Stop doing that before I fucking kill you.” But it does. It does NOT mean come running because something fun is going to happen. Sure, watching the cat get yelled at probably has some level of satisfaction for you, but I don’t always have time to stop and pet you when I’m busy trying to kill that damn feline.
Cat, seriously. Shut the fuck up. We love you. You are adorable and hilarious, but if you don’t stop waking us up with your incessant mewing, you might die. It won’t be our fault. We can’t control sleep-induced rages. And about you, dog. When we yell at the cat to shut up, that does not mean you should get up and start tap dancing around our bed. If I don’t get some sleep soon, you will both be locked out of the room – in places we won’t be able to hear your scratching, tapping or mewing.
Dog, I know you need more walks. However, I can’t control the weather and no one likes a stinky wet dog. When it clears up, we’ll go. I promise. In the meantime, please stop giving me those eyes. It breaks my heart.
Cat, letting Mr. T pet you all night and then curling up on my legs to sleep is NOT equal treatment. I want my fair share of snuggle time or I will continue to roll around on purpose to get you to leave. And it’s really not fair for you to sleep on the dog bed. He’s bigger than you and isn’t allowed on the bed or couches. That’s just selfish and mean. I know you’re evil…I just wish you wouldn’t take it out on your brother.
Dog, you can totally take him. Cat is much smaller and not very coordinated, really. The next time he waits for you around the corner and smacks the crap out of you, give him a little one-two to the head. That’ll teach him. But don’t hurt him – just show him who’s boss.
Oh, and both of you – I know you’re secretly friends. Busted.
I don’t think my fear of flying is irrational. I think it’s very common and lots of people can relate to this. On my work trip this week, the first flight was manageable. There wasn’t much turbulence, take-off was great, but the landing could have been better. In fact, as we were descending, there was a little dip that made me yell, “What the hell, people??” My coworkers laughed. I did not. I realized fully that I am not ready to die.
Anyway, the meeting went wonderfully, my bosses were happy with the outcome and with my performance and then we had a 4 hour client dinner…after being up since 4 AM…not so great. And Georgia was freaking cold. So, after a night of good sleep in a really comfy bed, I get up at 4:45 AM to get ready and meet the team for the return flight. First, we did NOT need to leave that early. We stared at each other at the airport for 2 hours before the flight. Second, I hate that people assume a group with two women and two men must be spouses. Ew. My coworkers are so not my spouse. No need to jump to conclusions, Mr. Enterprise Shuttle Bus Driver.
By the time we got on the plane, I had managed to forget to take my anxiety meds. Don’t ask how, I have no clue. So we’re sitting there at the gate, waiting and waiting. I assume they are waiting on a passenger who has checked in but not boarded, or calling for standby or something…but no. The captain comes on the intercom and tells us that there is a minor maintenance issue that is being fixed and we should be leaving shortly. WTF??? Couldn’t you just lie, or not address the delay at all??? I mean, I guess that’s a customer service thing, but when dealing with a plane carrying hundreds of people over hundreds of miles, thousands of feet above the planet, it’s okay to lie. I don’t need to know.
That cheery little announcement threw me into a full panic attack. I was 100% convinced that we were going to die. That plane was going down and we were all going with it. We finally leave the gate and I notice that this plane is far more shaky than the one we arrived in. You know how, in those movies with plane crashes, in the scenes inside the plane right before half of it blows up or it plummets to the ground, it rattles like crazy? Yeah, it was like that. And I didn’t call T or my mom before leaving, so all I could think was that I was going to die and I didn’t even tell my husband that I loved him today. I started crying. My coworker either didn’t notice or didn’t comment, because there was no half-assed attempt to calm me down or anything. I would have rather been flying alone, really.
The rest of the flight was hell. I stopped crying, but every little movement made my heart pound and my head get light. I was so happy to get off that damn thing, and I never care to fly again unless my husband is next to me. He is very soothing and, let’s face it, if I’m going to die, I’d rather go down with my husband than a coworker.
Oh, and I was seated by a baby on the flight down there. Karma’s a real asshole, you know?
I have been so.fucking.good and I have only managed to lose 6 stupid, measly, still-don’t-make-my-clothes-fit-better pounds. For example, today the girls wanted to go out to lunch. I usually avoid eating out because I can’t control my points as well, but I really need out of the office. We ended up at Pasta House. I ordered off the low-fat menu and got the lunch Spaghetti Pomodoro and requested fat-free dressing on my salad. I only ate half of the spaghetti. I did have a roll…I know I should have skipped it, but I wanted it and I never splurge. Whatever. I didn’t cave and order a cream sauce, so that’s a good start. And I only had one roll, not half the basket. Another good start.
But seriously. I research restaurants before I go if I know I have to eat out. I don’t use buns anymore. I miss pizza, nachos and fries. Like, obsessively miss them…but also obsessively avoid them. Boring. I haven’t worked out as hard as I probably should, but even if it’s playing DDR for an hour, I make sure I do something physical every night. I never use my extra flex points for the week (maybe one or two here and there…but nowhere near all 35).
It’s just frustrating because, when I was lazy and eating like total crap, I was maintaining my cow-like weight. Now, I’m doing all the things I should be doing to lose, and it’s barely coming off. I don’t want to be a moose anymore! But I also don’t want to be so miserable and nervous about food. Where’s the fine line? Where do I find balance? I really don’t like this. No shit it’s going to be hard, but I feel like it’s damn near impossible. Don’t worry, I’ll stop blog-bitching about this soon. Promise.
But in other news, I’m flying out for my first biznass trip ever on Monday, to return Tuesday. I have to be at the airport by 5:25 AM – eeewwwwww! And I don’t have Ms. B or Mr. T to cling to during takeoff and landing. And I can’t take any meds that will make me drowsy for hours because, duh, it’s a work trip and I have to be on my game for the meeting. And I’m not sure that I don’t have to share a room with my crazy bosslady…I’m really going to be pissed if I have to share a room with her. I mean, sharing with a coworker to help control costs is totally fine…but she’s not a coworker. She’s my boss. Totally different. And she’s a morning person. Ugh. Wish me luck. Maybe I’ll print this out and glue it in my notebook so I can look at it when I’m really aggravated…(thanks, Tomato, for giving me this gem).
I have been so incredibly good lately (and it shows – the scale was down to 211.5 this morning), but I don’t feel as great as I had hoped. I’m drinking tons of water. Maybe not as much as I technically need, but far more than I used to drink. I pee all the damn time, but hey – that’s just a few more calories I burn walking to the bathroom, right? And I have consumed an incredible amount of fruit. Mr. T helped me cut up cantaloupe, honeydew, strawberries and 1/4 of a watermelon and I also added blackberries and grapes, so we have the biggest bowl of fruit salad in our fridge. (Next time, I’ll just stick with the melons.) But I have had two cups of fruit for breakfast yesterday and today, plus fruit as a snack. I mean, it’s only 1 point per cup, so I can eat until I’m full…but between that and the water, I feel all sloshy and weird. It’s not pleasant.
Another thing – my Wellbutrin got bumped up, but I don’t see a huge difference in that yet. I mean, I am CRABBY! Seriously. And I think it’s because I feel so deprived of yummy food. What can you expect when I’m surrounded by people eating CHOCOLATE PIE while I eat cantaloupe??? It’s so hard to say no to my favorite things, especially when T eats pizza rolls or taquitos in front of me. I would kill for some pizza. I have some Lean Gourmet pizza snacks to tide me over, so I’ll survive, but what I’d really like to do is eat a whole Tony’s pepperoni pizza (I prefer frozen pizza to chain pizza, I’m a freak). I skip the tortillas and buns and eat everything naked. T has actually been much better and more helpful – he’s eating more fruit and healthy stuff with me, so that definitely helps. And he tries to eat the bad stuff when I’m not around, which I really appreciate…but when I do see him eating something yummy, I get seriously jealous. How come he can say he wants to lose weight and wake up 5 pounds lighter, while I don’t eat anything greasy and then smell a cupcake and gain 5 pounds???? Frustrating!
One more thing I’ve discovered – WW and nuts don’t mix. I always read about how good it is to add nuts to a salad to add some good fat and crunch. I made a salad last night with romaine mix, grilled chicken breast, dried cranberries, pecans, MAYBE 1/8 cup 2% cheese and fat free Raspberry Pecan dressing (thanks to Schneiderdoodle and Mel for that inspired dinner!), but when I added up the points with the nuts, the fat grams threw the total up to ten. Ten damn points for a salad? I’ll be skipping the nuts from now on.
I’ve got a pretty good food routine down. I have 2 points of something for breakfast (fruit salad or Fiber One bar), 4-6 points of a low-fat frozen meal for lunch, a 1-2 point snack around 3:30 or 4 so I’m not ravenous when I get home, a meal with protein and no more than 10-12 points for dinner and a 1-2 point snack later on. I drink tons of water all day to keep me feeling full and I only have a caffeine-free diet soda on occassion (I just can’t give it up completely – I’m giving up too much other stuff!). I know I want to eat more in the evenings, so I plan my points accordingly. If I can have a bigger dinner, I know I’m more likely to stay satisfied and not have a stupid snack later. I get 27 points a day and I don’t think I use them all (even though I think I’m supposed to…I’m working on that. Going over scares me to death, even with the extra points you get each week).
Volleyball season has officially started, so I have a guaranteed hour of activity every Sunday, and I’ll be playing some Tuesdays as well. I’d play every single day if I could (anyone else play? Need another girl? I really like to play and I’m pretty decent!). When the weather is nice, I’ll walk the dog. When it’s rainy, I’ll either watch TV from the elliptical or the Total Gym, or I do a video. I think I’ve been convinced to get the 30 Day Shred DVD, so that would become my regular video instead of Turbo Jam. Not that I do something every single day. To be honest, I’m still adjusting to the reduction in calories, so I don’t have tons of energy and I don’t get motivated to work out. I’m getting there. A little bit each week is better than nothing, and I’ve already got 2 days of activity so far this week, so I’m okay with that. I’ll do something tonight, as long as my stomach cooperates. I’m not feeling so hot, really. I think it’s a combo of stress and the new diet.
And just to add a bit of the old me to the post – a rant. About babies. This weekend, we were out to dinner (I ate a salad while everyone around me had fries and soda and cheesy goodness) and I was already a smidge crabby (see previous parenthetical statement). I soon realize that the table directly behind us is host to several devil offspring of the fresh-from-the-womb variety…not only is one of them very unhappy, but it is directly behind me. Not only that, but the stupid asshole dad is holding the screaming miscreant over his shoulder, so the brunt of the screaming is aimed directly at my head. Holy shit, people. A) That’s a fucking loaded weapon – never aim it directly at another human! B) Take that crying shit outside or to the bathroom. Not everyone who came out to this public establishment came prepared to deal with that kind of banshee howling and our dinners should not be ruined because your little terror has a little bit of gas. C) I am going to make comments and jokes about it, loudly. I don’t care if it offends you, because that screaming thing pointed at me is offending me and ruining my family’s dinner together. Mr. T, you knew my stance on this topic when you married me, so don’t be so surprised at my comments and please don’t act embarrassed because they heard me and turned around. That was the plan. I wanted them to hear me. And you know what? It fucking worked because they took that thing outside until it calmed down. So please don’t reprimand me in front of my family. I know you think I was being rude and it was uncalled for, but that thing wasn’t screaming directly into YOUR ears, now was it? It wasn’t like the baby was a little fussy and I was overreacting. It was ridiculous and parents need to learn a little bit of respect for those around them when THEY choose to procreate and then take the resulting pissy mini-human out in public. Rant over.
Well, I lost 4 pounds according to his scale (and mine). And our scales are different by 1.5 pounds. Good to know.
He upped my Wellbutrin from 150mg to 300mg and gave me a script for Lorazepam (generic for Adavan) to take as needed for anxiety. I’ve actually been on that before, a long time ago, so I’m glad it’s the same as it worked before. He seemed pleased with the weight loss and confident that it will continue, especially with the doseage adjustment. I go back in another month to check in, so I hope the next four weeks go well and I have at least an 8-pound loss next time. Two pounds a week is safe, so that’s my goal.
I know it’s going to take time. In fact, the 4 pounds alone are extremely encouraging as I’ve really only been completely focused on this for about two weeks (which is when I noticed the medicine kicking in more). Thanks for your continued support and well wishes. I feel like I have a little cheering section, rooting me on, and I just can’t tell you how much that means to me. Honestly, some days, it’s the difference between me coming home and putting on my PJs and me coming home and changing into workout clothes. So…thanks, team! xo
I’m going to the doctor in about an hour. He’ll check my weight and we’ll chat about my drugs. No biggie, right? Wrong. I’m a nervous wreck. What if his scale says I haven’t lost anything? I mean, what started as a much-needed change to start taking small steps towards being healthy has quickly spiraled into a full-on obsession. I freak out about everything I eat. Last night, after being on the elliptical for a few minutes, it reset itself and I about lost my mind because I just lost track of my time, distance and calories.
Seriously, food makes me nervous. When someone suggests going out, I get this sinking feeling in my stomach. Everyone else is going to eat delicious food in front of me and I’m going to have to pretend to not want to share the appetizer or have fries. Drinking helps calm me in social situations, but alcohol has empty calories, so I feel like I can’t drink. Maybe it’s just because I have to face the scale today, but I hope this passes because feeling like I can never eat pizza again just makes me want to throw in the towel. This is exactly what I was afraid of when I started…I’m an all or nothing kind of gal, and you just can’t be like that when it comes to food and exercise. I know moderation is the key, but that’s the part I suck at.
I’m so nervous that I haven’t lost anything. Keep your fingers crossed for me…I’ll post the results when I’m back. *throws up a little in mouth*