Thinking healthier

Don't you wish sometimes that the effort put into having good intentions regarding nutrition/fitness was enough to count toward weight loss? Kind of like the steps on your pedometer can be counted toward earning activity points for the day (every movement counts!). I've been thinking about eating more healthfully and exercising more off and on all day, and it would be nice if the thoughts counted for something. Right now, I'm taking a break from making a list of healthy recipes I'd like to try, and dreaming about what I want to look for when I go to Good Foods Coop/Whole Foods this weekend. I hate to not go only to GFC, since I've been on a bit of a "buy local" kick lately, but I think WF is bigger and has more stuff to look at. I guess no one says I can't go to both. Anyway, I've been reading Dietgirl's blog for days now, and her enthusiasm for eating right, cooking, and her general zeal for healthful foods (mostly veggies) is infectious. I don't think I've ever thought this much about adding veggies to my diet before. She's got this really cool opportunity where she lives - there's a service in the UK that ships a box of random veggies to your house, and the challenge is to ID whatever isn't familiar and figure out how to consume it before it goes bad. Even if they had that here, I think it would be pretty ambitious of me to start getting something like that delivered, since it's always been somewhat of a chore to add vegetables into my meals. But it's a nice thought.

Anyway, I hope I can continue these good thoughts so maybe I'll eat less (crap), and the same effect will happen to my thoughts of exercise. I read a great quote in an old entry on Dietgirl's blog today that helps: "It's such a high to feel your body doing what it's meant to doing... moving! Stretching! Being challenged. Kick ass." I don't know if I would quite go that far at this point, but I know from the past that it is empowering to work out. I wish I hadn't fallen so far out of the habit of working out. But I've reformed the habit before, and I know I can and will do it again. So, in the words of DG, "onward and downward... kick ass!"

It's better to be looked over...

I've been meaning to post another entry for a week now, but it always got too late in the evening by the time I thought about it. Not that anyone's missing them. I think I'm the only one who pays attention to these entries. Anyway, what originally made me want to post an entry was something that happened to me on the way to meet Dad so we could drive home last Friday. I was walking behind this chick, probably in her mid-20's, wearing an A-line skirt and heels (and this dumb coat with buttons down the back... but I digress). She was on her phone and was presumably oblivious to her surroundings. I spotted a guy walking toward us. As I typically do, I looked at him to sort of assess whether or not I thought he was the type of person to make eye contact and smile. He didn't even look at me - his eyes were glued on the chick on the phone. It's not like she was a supermodel or anything, but compared to schlumpy old me, I guess she was just as good as one. As we got to the intersection of Vine and Upper, I saw a guy getting ready to cross in the opposite direction. I did the same assessment, and he did the same thing as the other guy, only he blatantly looked her up and down. I'm talkin' head movements and everything. I was totally offended on her part, because had it been me, the flattering feeling would have been overridden by the feminist, "I'm not a piece of ass" thought. But I'm sure she didn't even notice - she was too busy on her phone!

Mae West said, "I'd rather be looked over than overlooked." OK, yeah, I guess I would rather be considered "worthy" enough to be ogled (and not by creepy guys who STARE in pubs), and it'll be a while before I feel like I'm at that point. I seem to respond better to negative stimuli than I do to positive ones. I'm still meditating on this experience, trying to soak out more inspiration. But now that it's documented, maybe I'll have better luck.

Day Two

I guess I should explain that the information I'll put at the top of the blog closest to my weigh-in relates to my net weight lost, and the current goal I have, not necessarily my ultimate goal. My ultimate goal is somewhere in the ballpark of 90 lbs., but that's pretty overwhelming, so I'm taking it in increments so it'll seem more reachable. Yep, that's something they teach you at Weight Watchers (aka WW) so you'll stay encouraged. And for those who don't know, they reward you for just about everything. Every 5 lbs. you lose, hitting your 5% goal, 10% goal, 25 lbs. lost, etc. You'd be surprised how excited people get over receiving stickers and trinkets for their achievements. So my first goal is to lose 15 lbs., and once I hit that goal, I'll set another one.

So today was the first day of the first week of WW-while-blogging. I did OK. I ate pizza for lunch, which wasn't exactly healthy, but I budgeted points for it. That's the beauty of WW - you can eat whatever you want, as long as you count it. Dinner wasn't so healthy either, and I blame equal parts lack of discipline and lack of planning. I really didn't have anything on hand that would have been that fulfilling of a meal, so I had mac & cheese from a can. But I counted it, and I counted everything else for the day, dipping into the extra allotment of points as needed. Tomorrow will hopefully be a better day, but as of now, I have no idea what I'll be consuming at lunch or dinner. I am going to do my best to get a workout in, too, since the goal this week is to work out 2-3 times, and I can't rely on myself to stick to the Saturday-Sunday combo I have in mind. Maybe I'll walk down to the library to take my book back and stop off at Sunrise Bakery for a turkey sammich. Tomorrow's supposed to be pretty nice, albeit windy.

I think I'll go try and come up with some meal ideas for the week before I head off to la-la land. Gotta get my sleep in - there's an article in Glamour this month that talks about how 5 women tested the theory that more sleep leads to better weight loss (http://www.glamour.com/magazine/2009/02/lose-weight-while-you-sleep), and apparently, it works. So, off I go, until tomorrow. Here's hoping I make better choices tomorrow!

Inspired by the Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl

Total lost: 3.2 lbs.
Next goal: -15 lbs.
To go: -15 lbs.

OK. I've been at this diet/lifestyle change/Weight Watchers thing officially for over 4 years now. I did great when I first started. I lost every week for the first 16 weeks or so (I can't tell exactly, because I can't find my first weigh card at the moment). But I went pretty strong there for a while, and after 11 months or so, I had leaped way beyond my 10% and lost 37.8 lbs. That's about 10 shy of halfway to my goal. Pretty damn good. Then somewhere along the way, I fell off the wagon. I usually use my aunt's passing as the turning point, since I wasn't able to exercise or eat very sensibly during the time that I was out of town for the funeral, but looking back, that's not really the case. I hit my all-time high after she passed. Like, 5 months after. I'm not sure what really happened, but I lost my mojo. And I kept losing it, and losing it, and losing it, until I got down around my 5% goal. I swore I wouldn't let it slip beyond that point, but old habits die hard, and my lack of discipline took over. I'd already stopped going to the gym regularly a while before that, because they messed with my schedule (they switched kickboxing from Tuesday to my Weight Watchers night, then started rotating another instructor with my favorite one who taught on Saturday mornings). I had formulated a plan to get around that, but I never put it into play. You can guess what happened after I swore I wouldn't gain beyond a 5% loss... yep, I did, and I got to about 10 lost. Again, I swore I wouldn't fall below a 10 lb. loss, but I did. The pounds slowly crept back on, to the point where I am now at a net 3.2 lb. loss. It's good that I haven't gained it all back, but I still shudder to think I had been 34 lbs. lighter. I had bought new pants. I had old pants that were so loose that I could pull them on over my hips without unzipping them. And I felt a lot better about myself. I had more confidence. And I rarely had fat days or moments when I felt fat. That is what I am aiming to recapture.

Here's the goal - lose 15 lbs. by the end of April. I figure that will create a 3" loss around my waistline, and the shirts I bought to wear last summer will fit for the first time. (I had refused to send them back or return them to the store.) In order to work toward that goal, I will plan more meals and try to snack less, or at least snack on better things. I will get my butt up and moving more - to the gym, to the living room floor, whatever. I'll start at 2-3 times per week for 30 minutes and work up to 4 times a week for at least 30 minutes. I'll add in some weight training once I feel like I've got a decent loss under my belt (pun intended). And I'll stop using Tuesday night as a "free night" where I can binge because it doesn't count anyway - I've already weighed in! (There's some lethal logic.) Hopefully this blog will serve as a good motivator to keep me on track, particularly if people (i.e. friends) actually start to follow it and make comments.

Here's to forming good habits (again)!

FYI...

J.T., you are a bad e-mail conversationalist. Were we talking in real life, I suspect you would be saying something to continue the conversation, not solely answering my questions. How about asking how my day was? Or how I am? Or how work was last week? Sheesh.

When should I not be supportive?

J.T. got a rejection letter from the VA yesterday, stating that he didn't meet the minimum qualifications to be considered for a position with the VA. I knew he was upset, but I didn't offer any other response other than "fuck them, they don't deserve you." I thought that when someone was upset about something, my job as friend was to encourage them, or blow smoke up their ass, if you prefer the less positive spin. So when I got home from Lawrenceburg yesterday, I was greeted with this:

--------------------------------------------
"Here's what I sent the contact named on the letter.

'I received a letter today that said "You were not qualified at the GS6 level
due to not meeting the basic qualification requirements as advertised in the
vacancy announcement."


There must be some mistake as I double checked every aspect of the listing
and when compared to my application/resume, I am more than qualified for this
position.

This is in referance to Announcement number 08-154.

Please contact me at your first available convenience to clarify what the
problem is.

Thank you
LT. J.T. Jackson
KY Dept. of Military Affairs.'

Don't give me any "more flies with honey that vinager" BS either. THEY
fucked up."

-------------------------------------------
I asked him if he was directing that figuratively at them, meaning they better not give him some cock and bull story about why they're not considering him. I didn't get a response after 20 minutes, so I asked him if he meant that I shouldn't give him that BS. Here's the exchange that ensued:

Him: That part after my name was for you.

Me: Well, I'm sorry they fucked up, but I don't recall any use of BS on my part, at least not tonight. Anytime I have allegedly used that in the past was my apparently lame attempt to be supportive. I'm VERY hurt by that. I don't like you implying that I'm taking their side, when I always try to take yours, even though you may not interpret it that way.

Him: I was saying Not to in a preimptive manner. Just didn't want any smoke up
my ass.

Me: Well, next time, it would help if you'd soften it with something like "I'd appreciate you not blowing smoke up my ass." My BP is still raised from that comment. [author's note: it's raised just by rehashing this again, too]

Him: Relax will ya.

Just because its in an email addressed to you, doesn't mean everything in it
is aimed at you.

Me: You just said that the last part was intended for me. I'm sorry they responded the way they did, and I'm sorry you're upset about it. I don't think you meant to hurt my feelings, but you did, so rather than let it get to me any more, I think I'll just leave you to your work. Goodnight.

Him: Fine

Me: A "sorry I upset" you would be nice. I at least tried to offer some sympathy.

That was it. I haven't heard a word from him, nor have I contacted him. I didn't expect to hear anything else, but I would think that most people, upon learning that they have upset someone, would apologize. I don't expect him to. He probably forgot about it less than an hour after it happened, whereas Frank and I were on the phone talking about it off and on for three hours. I don't expect to hear from him tonight, either, but that's fine, because my ass is heading to bed around 11:15, and no later. I'm not going to sit up all night, wondering if he'll e-mail. If he does, I'll see it tomorrow morning. If he doesn't, I won't be mad at myself for waiting on him for no reason. And quite frankly, that goes for every night. He doesn't lose sleep by staying up to e-mail me... why should I do that with him?

This is what I would love to say to him: "Why did you e-mail me to tell me your response to the VA? Were you just telling me to inform me? If so, and you didn't want an opinion, you should have told me so. And even if you didn't, if you had said, "this is what I told them," then there would have been no reason for me to say, "you should have said it this way or that way." Besides, I thought what you said was fine - no honey coating necessary - and it was pretty presumptuous of you to assume I would criticize it.

Also, two bits of advice, even though you probably think you don't need them. 1) You might want to copy and paste your responses into Word so that an auto spell check will be done. "Reference" was misspelled in your response. And 2) avoid using "don't" as the first word in a statement, if at all possible. All that does is evoke defensive, "I'm being told what (not) to do" feelings from the person to whom it's directed."

Or more to the point, and in his style of speech: "Look, if you don't want my opinion on something, either tell me you don't want it, or don't tell me about it at all."

The bottom line, and what I would love for him to answer, is... am I supposed to sit there and not react at all when you receive news that's not to your liking? I'm a girl. My nature is to nurture. I'm genetically engineered to be more in touch with my emotions, and more sensitive to others' emotions. Therefore, when someone I care about receives bad news, my first instinct is to come to their aid, however I can, and the knee-jerk reaction is to pump that person up so they feel better about themselves and can put the blame off them and onto whoever or whatever made them feel bad. I can't help it. It's how I'm wired. So, either tell me how you would prefer that I react, or deal with how I react on my own. I tell you what, though... I'm not contacting him first. There is a very small part of me that wants to be the pacifist, because I am the type of person who doesn't like for people to be mad at them. But in this case, knowing how quickly he "gets over" things, I can pretty much guarantee that he hasn't thought about it beyond 1am this morning, like I mentioned before. Besides, he's not the one who's mad here - it's me. The desire to be the pacifist is trumped not only by that, but also by my feeling that if I extend the proverbial olive branch, I'm somehow accepting blame for what happened, and it was his stupid, presumptive, assholish comment about flies and vinegar that caused this whole mess. Therefore, I'll spend the next several days, waiting on him to make the first bit of contact, and I'll play mind games with myself until then in an attempt to convince myself that his reaching out to me will be some sort of bizarre peace pipe.

Nightly "Love ya"s

JT and I usually talk every night that he's at work, either via e-mail or chat, and I admit, I'm a creature of habit. I like my closure. I like signing off every night with "goodnight... love ya" and I like (and honestly expect) to "hear" it from him. Although I try not to let it, it really bothers me if I don't at least get a "goodnight." Yes, "ttyl" is a form of that, but it's sort of impersonal. And I know that there are people out there who say "love ya" like it's rote, because even though they probably mean it, it sounds devoid of feeling at times. I'm thinking specifically of one of my coworkers who, when ending a phone call with her husband, rattles off "loveyoubye" as though it's one word. I don't dig that personally, but after 12 years of marriage, I can understand it. He and I have been together for less than a year. I don't think we're at the rote stage, and I certainly don't feel secure enough to think, "oh, even though he doesn't say it, he means it." I have to justify the lack of hearing or reading "love ya" by obsessing over the times he has said it, and the ways he shows it (because as we all know, actions speak louder than words).

Tonight, he was talking about going to some defense instructor school in Richmond, which will cost him $600, since the state won't pay for it. So that to me is the final nail in the trip to Ireland coffin. He'd already started the "I can't afford to go because gas prices are eating into my savings" spiel. So that basically means I won't be going, either, because without him, I'll most likely not have a roommate, and I won't have a constant trip companion, either. So now my choices are a) go to Minneapolis with my parents to see my brother, b) go visit cousins somewhere, c) sit on my ass at home, or d) attempt to convince him to use some of the rest of his trip savings on going somewhere closer to here, because I would really like to go on a trip with him (and I would love it if he would take some initiative there or at least say, 'y'know, I'd really like to go on a trip with you, too.' But back to my point. We chatted somewhat about that, and then he presumably had to run off to do rounds, which is part of his work routine. But in closing, I got "ttyl." Not even a "goodnight," and certainly not the "love ya" that I've come to crave. And it upset me, as it has before. But I guess as before, I'll have to spend the last moments before I drift off to sleep either clearing my mind and trying not to think about it all, or rehashing the times he's said or shown it before.

Men can be such lugheads sometimes.