I Had A Date – With Myself

Last Saturday I planned absolutely nothing with anyone but little ole me.  Basically, I had a date with myself.

My church is having a clothing drive fund raiser to help offer free day camp this Summer to the local kids.  The neighborhood we’re situated in is an impoverished part of town and parents just don’t have the means to pay for any little extras.

That being said, my closet has been victimized by my latest urge to purge.  It’s incredible how much stuff I had been holding on to.

So, now that I have all this free space in there, seems like a good time to change up my look and start fresh.  Am I right?!  Off to the mall I go!  Shopping has never been my thing.  My retail experiences were a bit like drive by shootings – fast, furious and usually with disastrous results, leaving my poor wallet and ego in tatters.  Picture me racing out of the mall at top speed, jumping into my Toyota Corolla and yelling drive! drive! drive!

I’m also at that in between stage – no longer young enough for “hoochie mama” gear and too young for the granny look.  You guys.  Can we please do away with the skinny jeans?  I’m a curvy gal and those things look absolutely horrible on me.  When I can get them past mid thigh, I look 5′ 2″ (un) tall and wide.

After a couple of cringe worthy moments in that three way mirror, I decided to just give up.  It was getting to be too much and wanted to do the walk of shame back home and drown my sorrows in ice cream.  Determined to turn this around, I decided to make the best of my day out and just poke around and browse at a leisurely pace.  No commitment or mission to buy anything.

Helloooo Apple store.  How crazy fun is that place?!   After having explained to Quinn and Skyler (seriously?) that this was my first time there, they absolutely lit up.  I’m pretty sure I heard Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” being softly filtered through the store.   Yes, I walked in an Apple store virgin, touched for the very first time,  and walked out a woman.  I’ll be seeing them in their upcoming iPad tutorials.  You’re welcome for the free plug, Apple and Madonna.

I left the store fresh faced and flushed, and oddly craving a cigarette.  Which is weird, because I do not smoke.

My next stop was Lush, the bath products store.  Am I craving a shower now? What’s going on here?  I walked out with an $11 bar of soap called Australie that smells so good I could eat it.  But won’t.  Even I have my limits.

On the way home I was absolutely famished and dangerously close to “hangry”.  Instead of pulling in to a fast food take out for a down and dirty dietary quickie, I drove to the grocery store and filled my basket with good food choices instead.

I ended up having such a good time that I didn’t want my date to end.  I’ll definitely be saying yes to another outing with myself.  Could this be love?


Male Fat Shaming

Monday nights are all about aqua fitness.  I swear I’m part mermaid; love love love being in the water. There’s something about jumping into a pool that just bring out the kid in me.  Bobbing and floating with the greatest of ease is so much fun.

My friend and I must have worked out harder than we realized because last night we were both really sore.  Pretty much everything hurts right now.  I think my eyelashes might be hurting too.

Let’s be honest here, the reason most (heavier) people enjoy aqua fitness is because of the zero impact on knees and feet when splashing about.  Ok, fiiiine, it’s also about feeling light as a feather.  It’s been a while since I’ve been able to say that.

Out of the corner of our eyes, we saw one of the few males in our class.  He was having a grand old time, splashing and making others laugh.  He was sporting a big porn star era ‘stach, aviator style prescription glasses and a big big belly.  You know the look, I’m sure.

That’s when I realized that I hold men to a higher standard when it comes to physical fitness.  Crazy, right?  For some reason, I think it’s more “acceptable” for women to be fat.

Trust me, I know how awful this sounds.  When I see a woman who is heavy, I assume a couple things along the line of : post baby fat, eating disorder, low self esteem.  It’s not unlike me to look at a woman carrying extra weight who is nicely dressed, made up and coiffed and think “wow, she looks amazing”.

When I look at a man who is too heavy, I think “dude, you’ve just totally given up on yourself.  You’re a mess.  Do something about that, stat.”  I’d even go as far as saying I tend not to take him seriously as a man.  I see him as weak, borderline effeminate.  If he can’t take care of himself, how could I ever count on him to be my rock when I need his strength?”

Woah…..where did this type of thinking originate from?

Now, before anyone starts throwing rocks at me, consider the following.  Could it be that I have lower standards for women (especially myself) as opposed to higher standards for men?  Maybe that is why I have always had difficulty sticking to a weight loss program.

My friend’s hubby lost 100 pounds this past year.  He looks absolutely fantastic.  I’m so happy for him. Think about it – 100 pounds.  That is super hard work and dedication. He did it.  I knew he could.  When it comes to me and my attempts at losing about 50 pounds, I’m overwhelmed and life’s every day ups and downs set me back.

This transformation journey is more than I expected it to be.  It’s not an easy or quick fix. Everything is changing; my mindset, my routine, my expectations, my limits, my choices. I think this “a-ha!” moment has finally unlocked what’s been holding me back for far too long.

What say you?  Be honest – what goes through your mind when you see a heavyset man vs a woman?  Do you judge one more critically than the other as I have unknowingly done?  Talk to me!

In the Beginning…

I realized the other day that I’ve kind of strayed from the intended purpose of this blog. It’s meant to be about my weight loss journey and everything in between.  Lately it’s been mostly about the in between.

That being said, I’ve also completely abandoned tracking my food.  You’re welcome, Weight Watchers.  Enjoy my monthly payments while I do absolutely nothing.

My scale also broke.  Yes, it’s true.  No I did not break it by stepping on it.  I say that only because I know that’s where my mind would have gone had I read this on someone’s blog.

In the mean time, I’ve started getting my motivation back by watching various YouTube channels.  There’s one in particular that I absolutely adored, but will remain nameless as I don’t want to bash her publicly.  (I’ll just do that in the privacy of my home!).

She’s got a lot of good DIY clips and organizing and makeup tutorials, etc. etc.  She has her hubby appear on some of her clips as well.  They live in Hawaii and they both seem super down to earth and genuinely nice people.

Then I started watching her vegan challenge series.

Give me a freaking break, lady.  How can anyone survive on such little food and fruit fruit fruit all day long?  Do they not move at all in the day?  I’d be passed out by 10:30 a.m.

Her hubs is right in there with her, encouraging and supporting her.  At the beginning of their clips he was looking pretty good with a nice beefcake physique.  Now he looks gaunt and whipped into dietary submission/hell and looks like he’s aged about 10 years.  Their regime is ridiculously restrictive.

One night “dinner” consisted of “tacos”.  The shells were actually raw red cabbage leaves, filled with avocado, quinoa, olives and a light dusting of let’s pretend this will fill us until the morning.  Apparently she was not able to eat her four cabbage leaves and only had two.

I never see him in the food videos.  I’m guessing he’s either passed out in the hallway or sneaking out the back door and driving like his ass is on fire to the local burger joint while she is sauteing air for dinner.

I’m all for healthy eating, folks, but seriously….eat SOMETHING!  I take my hat off to folks who are health conscious and appreciate the food/mind/body connection.  What I cannot stand is people who make food “weird”.  Have you ever tried going to a restaurant with these types?  You can bet your ass someone’s plate will have been spit into by the wait staff at some point.

PS – no vegans, vegetarians or carnivores were harmed in today’s rant.

PPS – I’m a little hangry right now, so best get to breakfast.

PPPS – I’m starting to track my food again and am back on the WW wagon.

Counting Sheep is a Big Fat Lie

It is 1:38 a.m. and I can not for the life of me get back to sleep.  Insomnia really sucks. Actually, it’s not so much insomnia.  It’s creativity.  If I go past 10pm and I’m still awake, I get my second wind and that’s when all the ideas for DIYs and decorating and writing kick in to over drive.

Here’s what’s taken up residence in my head at this very moment – I’m going to paint my dresser this weekend.  It doesn’t stop there, though.  Then I started looking at my bedroom walls.  Although I like the color, a very soft almost white pink, one wall is need of a little something.  Should I paint an accent color?  Maybe wallpaper – it’s making a comeback, you know. Then that naturally leads me to wanting to change my bedding for the upcoming Summer season.

Then, naturally, my mind wanders to decluttering.  I’ve gotten rid of so much since I downsized to a smaller apartment two years ago, but I’m sure I can still get rid of more stuff.  Hey, maybe I’ll sift through my storage space tomorrow and purge a little more.

Then I’m thinking, I just got my new iPad – a 10 year anniversary gift from my employer, and I really should just go to that little tea house I’ve been meaning to discover and just sit and read though the e-manual and also to read through the blogs I’m following on WordPress.

I haven’t been journaling lately, so I really should do that, too.

Someone please, help me find the “off” switch to my brain.  I feel like it’s going to explode and it’s taking everything I have in me not to start reorganizing my furniture.  That would go over so well with my coo coo landlady downstairs.

So many ideas, so many things and places to explore, so much creativity dying to be unleashed.

Uh oh, Angus McKitten and Pacino are giving me the stink eye and that’s my cue to say goodnight and turn out the lights.

Knock Knock

The usually response to knock knock is “who’s there?”.  Right?  Well, under normal circumstances, yes.  However, I’ve never been accused of doing anything in a “normal” fashion.

Allow me to set the scene for you.  I was in the kitchen, pulling out all the stops and cooking my little heart out.  My son and his girlfriend were coming over for dinner and I was excited to try a new recipe.  My kitchen smelled wonderful and things were coming along nicely.  Latino music was playing in the background and I was in a most festive mood.  Why does that music always give me the urge to book an all inclusive trip somewhere? Aaaanywaaaay…

Oh, and I forgot to mention…my landlady FINALLY got my doorbell fixed.  It used to sound like a wooden spoon giving one dull clang on an old pot.  There were times I never heard it and folks would stand on the stoop for extended periods of time until they got fed up and either rang my cell or just left.

So the doorbell rang and I heard it.  Hhhm, that’s weird.  My son is usually late to everything and was now here an hour earlier than expected.

I walked down the hall and buzzed them in.  While I was standing at the top of the stairs, I broke out into song.  It went something like this: “I’ve got a new dooooooorbell and it goes BING BONG!”.  I also did a little dance and a twirled at the end.

That’s when I realized that the person coming up the stairs was NOT my son and his girlfriend.  It was a very handsome young representative from the city’s fire department, doing his random checks to make sure the fire detectors were all working up to code.

Fucking hell….  I just stood there, frozen, full on June Cleaver-esque apron and spatula in my hand.  So many things were racing through my mind. Things like “how does my hair look”. “Oh crap did he hear/see that?”

You know what didn’t race through my mind?  “Hello Mr. Potential Serial Killer.  Come on in.  How can I make your task easier for you today?”.

I have no idea what went through his mind, but he acted like it was all perfectly normal.

Sigh…I’m sure they were all having a great laugh at the firehouse the next day.  Oh, and when the doorbell rings now, I walk my little ole self down the stairs and peek through the window now. Each and every time.


Meow Monday #1

In an attempt to get out of the house and off to work in a more timely fashion (translation: stop being so freaking late every morning), just thought I’d post something short and sweet.

These are my two boo boos.  The one with the look of disdain on his face is Pacino.  The one trying to drink all of the water in the sink is Angus McKitten.

I have been trying and failing miserably at getting the bathroom to myself for the last 25 years.  If it’s not kids pounding at the door, it’s the fur babies.

This is what happens in my house when I try to brush my teeth.  I’m concerned that the sink will crash to the floor one day.  Angus McKitten is one hefty dude.

Oh well, maybe I’ll get the bathroom to myself in Heaven.  Happy Monday, all!

Bathroom kitties

Will someone please pass the dental floss?


Losing Momentum

I’m feeling so frustrated.  As usual, I start off super motivated to follow a weight loss plan and to exercise, and then something happens.  The momentum dies and I go right back to not paying attention, not planning, not tracking my food.

If I would have remained diligent, I could have lost a good 10-15 pounds by now.  Why do I keep doing this to myself?  There must be some serious self loathing going on that I’m not paying attention to.

Part of me thinks “just quit whining and do it for crying out loud”.  What am I afraid of? Could that old saying that being afraid of success be true?  I’ve always thought that was a bunch of pop psychology crap.  Maybe there really is something to that.

I’ve been single for a while now.  Part of me would like to have someone special in my life, but there’s no way I feel confident enough to open myself up when I look like this. So of course then I try to project into the future.  What if I did lose the weight and was super healthy again?  Where would I even meet someone?  Online dating is just horrible.  There are so many fake profiles and scammers out there.  I’m not twenty something anymore.  What if I’m destined to be alone forever?  If that’s the case, why bother?  I’m invisible anyway so what’s the difference.  So I’ll just sit in my apartment and wait to die then.

No. No. No.  See what one little negative thought can lead to? That is why I need to become a better version of myself.  When I exercise and eat right, my mindset is positive and I am in a good place.

I have no idea what the future holds for me.  I’m hoping it is bright and positive and filled with love.    So that being said, it’s a beautiful morning here, I’m getting dressed and going out for a walk to soak up some sun.  Maybe I’ll even attempt a little run.

Have a great Sunday, all!