Happy Birthday, Pop!

This is my dad. This picture was probably taken...well, seeing as my dad always looked pretty much the same, it's kind of hard to say. He was probably in his early 30s? He always looked older, and studious.

Today is my dad's birthday. He would have been 75 this year. He died 10 years ago last week (why do men in my family die on or near their birthdays?). It completely stinks not to have him around, and believe me when I tell you that 10 years passing doesn't make me miss him less.

I told my mom that what really got me is that he was there one day and gone the next, just like someone reached down and plucked him off the earth. And what is one of the hardest things is that I wasn't done with him yet. Not that I ever would have been, but I found myself always and forever in awe of my dad's intellect, and learning from him constantly. And I have yet to find anyone who I put such faith in. If I asked my dad something, his answer was THE answer. Now, I do have a mind of my own, of course, and he and I disagreed and butted heads on plenty of things. And there were plenty of questions I didn't ask him! But when I asked him something, I didn't have to question it. Like when I was buying my house. That was all me and my dad. He went with me to look at it, and saw me through everything right down to getting the keys (not physically; I am pretty independent; but questions or concerns on things financial or other aspects of home owning? He was the guy).

Once he made me practice math over the summer because I'd had a rough go of it and he knew I could do better (he was right about that, too; I did great in math in high school, but hated it in grade school). So I got a workbook from school at the beginning of the summer and would do the work and give it to him to correct. I remember getting very confused about fractions (I don't remember the specifics, but it was something relatively complicated, like how you multiply them or something) so I asked him, and he explained it to me right then and I kept going.

Now, if you were to come up to me asking me to help you multiply fractions, well, you'd be out of luck pal. And strangely, I am the age that he was then. And I don't have all the stuff that he had in his head. I'm single with no kids, and I'm not responsible for the daily operations of a large university, as he was. And yet he remembered how to multiply fractions, just like that. How the eff did he remember THAT?

He could help me with my French homework because he could read French. His grammar and spelling were impeccable, he wrote articles and books, he had so much knowledge between his ears.

He was a stubborn man, and he could really get a temper, and he was far too conservative in many aspects, IMHO. But criminy was he smart. When my mom first started going out with him she didn't realize he was an entire year younger than she, because they were in the same class in high school. The reason behind that is because my dad skipped a grade. And he only stayed in my mom's high school for a year because he got bored and didn't feel the education there was doing him any good.

My grandma used to get calls from school regularly at home or at work because my dad would leave school and go play pool. He was just that smart. Crap that I had to work at and pull my hair out over, he could do in his sleep. And I'm on the smart side, amigos.

But I digress.

I'd like to think I've done pretty well since he passed. I'm a pretty darned happy person all things considered, and I do well and I like to think I help make the world a better place in some way. But there is nothing, nothing in the world, nothing and no one, who could ever take the place of my dad. I won't see the likes of him until we meet up again, some day.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Boozer loves you and misses you. Every damn day.

Weekend success

Hey Amigos,

I had me a good weekend! I decided that I'd cut loose a little too much the past month or so. What I mean by that is, I kind of took a free pass on weigh in day (Thursday) because, ya know, I've got a whole week before I get weighed in again. Well, that free pass would spill over into Friday. Then maybe even Saturday. And Sunday is usually dinner with one family member or another.

I never did anything truly heinous. But I did feel that I could operate a little fast and loose, seeing as there are a couple days where I can fly the straight and narrow and make up for any mistakes I've made.

Well, I started thinking about that. I mulled it over. I talked about it with my buddy Alabaster Mom (an in the flesh lifetime member...if you're trying to lose weight, befriend a lifetime member and get all the information out of them that you can! They're precious!!). I mulled some more. And I realized that I could indeed run a little fast and loose when there is a whole bunch of time between my weigh ins.

But I also realized that every time I did that, I would be taking that much longer to reach my goal. I'm not in a hurry, but it's just another form of sabotage that I can't fall prey to.

I think the more times I got away with it, the more I would think it was OK. And it's not OK. I'm not really applying what I'm learning if I'm still (allow me to use a 12 step term) losing my food 'sanity.' I'm not really getting a handle on my problem of overeating if I do that.

So I decided enough's enough. After my meeting on Thursday I went home and had a perfectly sane meal, and tracked every bite of it. And I did the same for the rest of the weekend. No more free passes for me, amigos.

I'm closing in on another milestone. I'll tell you all about it when I hit it. Give me a couple weeks.

What else is new. Well, what else is new that you may be interested in...

I've been doing some ebaying. That place is addictive. I haven't sold anything, just bidding. See, I'm a backpack purse girl. I've gotten so used to using a backpack purse that the over-the-shoulder kind don't work too well for me. Well, backpack purses are a bit hard to find these days. That is, until you hit ebay! So, I've been lucky and snagged a couple of very nice backpack bags. But now I can't stop looking. I don't NEED anything. But there's something about the whole auction process. Ebay is also a good place to find nickel free earrings. If you're looking for them. I have to wear nickel free jewelry. For years I struggled with my pierced ears. Even surgical steel made them puff up. But once I caught on to the nickel free business I can now wear earrings with no trouble at all.

I could always tell when earrings were going to bother me. I'd put them in and wait. I'd say maybe after an hour the itching would start. And then I wouldn't be able to wear earrings for a week while the puffiness went down. It wasn't pretty. I can't wear bracelets. And necklaces cause quite a scene. I do have one ring that I wear, but it's high quality gold; it probably has little to no nickel in it. A little back story on that ring. I've grown to like my birthstone, the peridot. I decided for my 40th birthday that it was high time I had at least one piece of good, quality jewelry. Up until then I had nothing but costume jewelry. So I went all out and bought a beautiful peridot and diamond ring. Since I've lost so much weight I have to wear it on my middle finger, and I'm not sure how much longer it's going to stay there. But a day doesn't go by that I don't wear that ring.

Hm. I wonder if I should celebrate my weight loss. When I reach my goal that is. Notice I said when. Hm. I'm going to think about that for a while.

Anyway, here's to a successful weekend. I am actually looking forward to this week's weigh in. I'm 1.8 lbs away from a significant milestone, and will then be only 10 lbs away from an even more significant milestone. Plus my 1 year anniversary of being on-program is coming up. Man, I've got a lot of reasons to celebrate!

Well, not just yet. But soon.

Facebook is scary

Hola Amigos,

Facebook is sort of fun, sometimes, but mostly I find it frightening. This has nothing to do with any of my buddies on Facebook (you know who you are), they're the fun part of it.

What I'm afraid of is I am not sure how much I want to be tapped into this whole 'let's publish our lives' sort of thing. Of course, I do have this blog. But I control that pretty well, keep things ambiguous enough to feel relatively safe, and a person would have to know me or dig pretty hard to find this little gem.

But now that I'm on Facebook...

Oh, I'll cut to the chase here. I got 'friended' by someone I went to grade school and high school with. A perfectly nice woman, that's not a problem. She recently asked me for my address and email because she's putting together a 'reunion' of our grade school graduating class. We graduated in 1979, so this year would make it 30 years.

Maybe you all had better experiences with grade school, and I have no doubt that her experience was better than mine. But to me, grade school was hell. I was so, so incredibly unhappy.

I can give examples, of course. I think I will, actually. But let me preface them by saying that I'm not a bitter person. I do not hold grudges. I don't remain angry (on the rare occasions that I get angry at all). I don't tend to ever 'hate' people (except in a global, general way: I hate Dick Cheney; I hate Sarah Palin; that sort of thing). But when you're 11, 12, 13...you're old enough to remember things that hurt you. I don't mean I still feel any pain about it now. Being an adult has given me perspective and I can think about things that happened without feeling one thing over another. But try as I might, I never really forget. The forgiving part I have down pat. The forgetting, not so much.

I wasn't ostracized per se. I had friends. But I went to a pretty crappy school, I got a pretty crappy education, and my classmates were often pretty crappy themselves.

The school would never admit to being crappy. But they were crappy with a capital crappy. This was a Catholic grade school that I HAD to attend because that was the church where people in my neighborhood had to go. You COULD attend a different one, but you weren't supposed to. This was the grade school for my address. And God knows my parents weren't going to mess around with that (as a side note, what did my parents do the minute I was out of grade school? Started going to another church; they didn't like it there any more than I did; thanks a mil, mom and pop).

Things started out OK. I transferred at the end of third grade. You know, 4th, 5th, even 6th grade, everyone seemed to be on equal footing. Things started getting ugly in 7th grade, and from that point forward it was just an endurance test for me.

Oh, there's so much back story here. It wasn't just my fellow students who got to me, it was the damn teachers. I don't know if you've ever been in a class where the teacher obviously doesn't like you. It's not fun, folks. My homeroom teacher for all of 7th grade never got my name right. Not once. And it wasn't like a class of 80 or something. I was one of maybe 20 kids. I don't mean she pronounced it wrong. I mean she called me by an entirely different name from the first day of school to the last.

I had teachers who actively ridiculed kids for getting things wrong (including me). I had teachers who by today's standards would lose their jobs for the 'affection' they used to show some of the girls, to the complete exclusion of other students. Do you have any idea how much that can mess with your head? Of course you must remember this was a Catholic school in the 70s. So much shit could go down and they'd do absolutely nothing about it. Not a fun environment.

And the kids, well. What can I say? It was just a long stream of gossip I wasn't in on, parties I wasn't invited to, disappointment after disappointment. Of course now it's all so ridiculous and I couldn't care less. But honestly amigos, some of these people were JUST NOT NICE. For all that Catholic teaching and living like Jesus and 'do unto others' baloney they crammed down our throats...well, let's just say that a lot of folks talked the talk, but not many walked the walk, teacher, student, priest alike.

I remember going horseback riding with some girls. I arranged the whole thing. And my dad, the sweetheart that he was, agreed to drive us to the stable. And while we were riding (usually for an hour or 90 minutes) he'd just sit in the car and read. We did this two or three times; same girls, same stable, same dad. And I remember vividly having them come up to me some time later and tell me all about how they went riding and how much fun it was, and how I would have had fun had I been with them. So...they just didn't invite me. And then felt the need to come and tell me all about it. A 13 year old person has to know that's not right. I was 13. I knew it wasn't right.

Oh, and then there was the 'reunion' that they had the summer after 8th grade. I found out about it after the fact. Everyone was invited except me and a few friends. WTF is that all about?

And like I said, these things don't make me mad. They didn't scar me for life and I don't really care about any of it anymore. But tell me, why on EARTH would I ever care to see any of these people ever again? Why? What possible reason could I have? They weren't nice people then. All but 3 girls from my class went to my high school. High school (which I loved) didn't make them any nicer. And sure, it's 30 years. Of course they've changed. I've changed, we've all changed. But at reunions, isn't there a lot of reminiscing, trips down memory lane, etc.? I'm so completely not interested in any of that. And I happen to be blessed with some of the most wonderful friends a person could ever hope for; I'd much rather spend time with them than try and rekindle anything with these folks.

I'm in the book. If they decide they want to talk with me now, or see what I'm up to, they can call me. But I'm certainly not going to walk right into it. I've got so many other, better things to do.

In conclusion, Facebook is scary.

As Promised

So, I said I'd add a picture, so here is a picture. My friend J happened to be taking them on Friday when we were celebrating a friend's 25th birthday. He's had several 25th birthday celebrations. He decided he'd celebrated his 18th birthday often enough that he was ready to move on. This one is of me and my friend Miss Yo. We were at a place called Bravo and generally having a good time and getting caught up.

Not much else is going on around here. I'm off today, which is nice. And I'm really looking forward to our new president being sworn in tomorrow. I get goosebumps whenever I think about it.

OK, off to get something accomplished with my time at home!

Countdown

In about a month and a half I'll have been a member of Weight Watchers for a year. I am really hoping that I can consistently take off some weight between now and then.

Why, you ask? Because I want to be able to say "I lost X pounds in a year. How do you like THEM apples???" Maybe if I'm lucky it'll be a great number, AND it'll be even so I won't have to make the choice of rounding up, or down. That's a tough one, you see. My self-deprecation dictates that I'd round down and say I lost less than I did. But the sublimation-ist in me would round up and convince myself that's how much I lost.

We shall see. The upcoming date of that particular weigh in will be February 26. So tune in. Unless it's bad. Then don't. But of course, you won't know that unless you tune in...

It was such a nice meeting last week, I was SO happy to see my leader again. I never thought I'd get so attached to one leader over another, but once you've had a leader like C, well, you know how good a meeting can be. Of course that means she'll have to continue being my leader until one of us dies. But I'm OK with that.

She asked the group how many of us attended the meeting during the last 2 weeks. See, my meeting is Thursday nights, and the previous 2 Thursdays there were no meetings (Christmas day, and New Year's day). I didn't miss a meeting at all. I didn't just go one out of the two weeks. I attended meetings both weeks. Just on a different day.

So, anyway, she asked the group who among us attended meetings, and out of the entire class (and there were a lot of people there; you new year's resolutioners jammed the place; yeah, I'm talking about you! got a problem with that?) I and 2 or 3 other women raised our hands.

I was really shocked. Now I'm not saying anything about the people who didn't attend. I don't really care. I just thought that there would be more. And, I was proud of myself. I could have taken a pass. I could have found excuses and probably been OK with that. But I didn't. I got my butt up on 2 consecutive Saturday mornings and drove to my meeting. And I'm incredibly glad I did.

I realize writing this, that in my entire time with WW, I haven't missed a single meeting. I'm proud of myself for that, I really am. I showed myself I can do it. I showed the fat broad who sat down in that chair the first meeting, who was bigger than anyone else in the class (in case you're wondering I'm referring to myself), that I can do it.

Yesterday I went to see one of my doctors and gave him an update of what my life's been like, and I started getting really animated when I talked about how long I've been at it and how the changes I've made have become permanent. I think I may have freaked him out a little, but come on, that's a big deal!

Even if my weight loss is slowing down (it is; I'm going down, but not as rapidly, which is expected and just fine), I've kept it up for almost a year. I've committed myself to changing my eating habits, and it's worked!

I think I'm going to post some pictures. I'd say my blog is just a tad on the boring side and could use my bright smiling face and multiple chins to add a little character. I was afraid to do so before, but I'm less afraid now.

Hey, I saw they had Glamour Shots on sale at the mall the other day. There's a thought.

Refocus refocus refocus refocus...

Not sure if you noticed, but I need to refocus. Yesterday I felt just a little off.

Physically I felt fine. But throughout the day I was having issues with food, and the wanting of great amounts of it. That's how I roll sometimes.

I had what I normally have for breakfast on a work day. This consists of Bob's Red Mill 8 Grain Hot Cereal (which is phenomenal; my reader may remember me blogging about having instant oatmeal every day; well, when I realized how much added sugar it had I decided to shake things up; after reading an article in the Nutrition Action Health Letter, which is like Consumer Reports for foodies, I decided this stuff was the way to go), with about a tablespoon or so of brown sugar (I'm working on weaning myself off it, so don't worry; it's just not something I can do overnight) and soy milk.

It makes for a very filling breakfast.

Usually by around 10:00 or so I'm feeling peckish. Well, yesterday I could not keep thoughts of inappropriate foods from entering my mind. And then it got all weird where I was starting to resent how I couldn't eat them because I really have no control once I start in, and then I could feel my resolve weakening.

When I got hungry enough I ate some pineapple I brought, and then I was fine. But it was a fight amigos. I didn't want the pineapple. I resented the pineapple. There was nothing wrong with the pineapple. The pineapple was delicious. But, the pineapple is not a bagel sandwich from Bruegger's. Nor is it donuts from the Pick n Save bakery. Or an omelet platter from IHOP. Or cinnamon toast.

So, when I'm done eating, the cravings are gone and all is well, which is much better than if I'd eaten the wrong thing, where I'd probably still have cravings heaped with tremendous amounts of guilt.

But boy is it a struggle to eat right. Such a dichotomy. I like eating right. It feels good. I feel good. It tastes good. I honestly feel more alive, so to speak, when I eat more fruits and vegetables, like eating something it its purist form makes the nutrients just get my whole cell structure tingling.

So, why isn't this enough to beat the thoughts of fried cheese curds out of my mind? Hm? Can someone tell me that?

For whatever reason the struggle seems a little more intense right now. If I had to take a guess it would be because of the holidays, that I indulged in some of the things that I'd been keeping away from for so long, that I'd eaten what I wanted when I wanted for a few days. Going back is hard.

But, alas, it's the choice that must be made.

The struggle continued into the evening. I persevered, but it was hard. I'd eat part of my dinner and think about more stuff I wanted. The thoughts were still hanging around me. I guess the important thing is that I didn't cave in to them.

Of course caving in would have meant getting in the car and going to buy something, because I honestly don't have that much in the house that's bad, and that's just not something I'd do. But the old me would have, I think. If I craved something enough.

We're closing in on a year, amigos. My first weight watchers meeting was February 29, 2008. That day changed everything. But I guess I'll only celebrate it every 4 years? Hadn't thought of that...

Oh, something funny. In my cleaning up efforts I found an old journal from maybe 14 or 15 years ago (I have several journals in various stages of writing; never really consistently did it, not even when I was a kid). I was actually glad I found it because it was the one where I know I had written my weight at the time.

So I figured out in the course of reading that 14 or 15 years ago I was a basket case (no duh) who weighed just about what I do now. The difference is that was me on the way up. I'm looking at it on the way down now, and my entire perspective has changed. I feel so much more positive about myself now, hopeful.

What made me chuckle was that I was all hopped up on trying Dean Ornish's eating plan (I think he called it eat more-weigh less; how could I resist? Of course, it's not as glamorous as it sounds; it's not like he's saying "Eat more Bugles-weigh less").

So back then I was still working it, still trying to find the golden ticket to weight loss. Happily, though, enough other things have changed about me since then that I realize I'm a much better adjusted person.

Anyway, my point of this blog was that I feel the need to refocus because I've been spending an unhealthy amount of time dealing with the desire to revert back to my bad habits. Strangely, I feel better already. And I see the snacks I have for the afternoon. I have a green apple and a grapefruit, and they look as good to me as a basket of onion rings. No shit. I am not pulling your leg!

Of course, I just finished eating my lunch and am therefore not hungry. So in a couple of hours I may actually find myself holding a tremendous grudge against my healthy afternoon snacks. But Rome wasn't built in a day.

Back at it!

Hey Amigos,

So, it's back the grind for my first full work week since December 1st.

Excuse me for a moment while I gain my composure.

All that sobbing doesn't go over so well around here.

Thankfully I'm easing in. No classes this week so things are still pretty low key here on campus. It's amazing how time marches on. We're starting the ever-loving spring semester next week, people. The holidays are over? Wha happen???

I have to say that I made startling progress during my time off. My home was just a-hummin' with me getting all organized and whatnot. I'm not entirely sure what possessed me, but I was, truly possessed. I actually think the soul of my mother somehow managed to inhabit her body and mine at the same time. I couldn't be stopped. I cleaned out every closet. I moved things in the kitchen so that I have more counter and cupboard space. I no longer have to keep baking implements in my stove. I went through every stitch of clothing I own, which resulted in two boxes of clothes for Goodwill and one box for the good people of the sanitation department.

I tossed chotchkie. I sorted a Tupperware canister set (that I never used...what was I thinking??? I'm one person...how much flour could I possibly go through?) and put it in the nearly impossible to reach cabinets above my cupboards. The set is covered in dust, so I plan on taking it outside in the spring and hosing them down, then selling or donating them (it's an outdoor job, that's how much Tupperware there is in a canister set).

I cleared off my kitchen table to the point that I can actually do a jigsaw puzzle at it (and I am!).

I just kept thinking of things to do, and then doing them (going directly against my previous pattern of simply thinking of things to do).

After much self-reflection, I think I stumbled across why I did this. The weight loss is part of it, but really I was trying to make my space more livable. I was trying to simplify, to make the most of the space I have.

Instead of lamenting the fact that I need another room, I took a look around at the rooms that I had and worked with them. And lo and behold, I now have more than enough room!

Bottom line, I needed to simplify. After doing all this cleaning up and out, I came to understand that I really don't need anything. I have plenty of shoes. I have more clothes than I should. I have all the appliances I need. I have my cat boxes placed strategically so that they're not intrusive. I keep up after my pets and they remain a delight to live with. My tv works fine. My furniture is functional and cozy. I have a phone. Everything fits and I have nothing to add.

Do I ever wish I could have more space? Sure, you bet. Do I ever want more stuff/a better TV/better clothes? Sure. But I know that getting those things would just be a waste. I am perfectly content and happy with what I have, and I'll be happy to live here for many years to come, God willing.

It's a delicate balance of course. My whole house of cards could come tumbling down if someone gives me a casserole or something. But I'm hoping I can go with the flow.

I should take pictures of my wee shanty some day, and share with you. Believe me when I tell you it's wee. Very, very wee.

Happy 2009 Y'all

First day of a new year and all, I figured I'd better blog about something. It really has been a big year for me. I had knee surgery, i joined weight watchers, i lost the weight equivalent of my friend's 12 year old son, I ventured back out into the dating world with some success (fleeting though it was), I helped elect a new president (still can't get over how happy that makes me).

Losing the weight has been the absolute biggest change. I'm physically healthier, mentally healthier. Probably one of the best things I've ever done, if not the best. I truly feel like a new person. If I keep going like this, 2009 is going to be stellar.

Anyway, just had to get in here and share a word. Amazing what a year can do!