went kind of South. Not in a terrible manner. I am very lucky in that Darling's parents are great people. Totally normal, easy to be around, 100% un-crazy. His Mother is also one of the best cooks EVER. Going to their house can be like a literal trip to Candyland. If not good for the waist, it's awesome for the mind and spirit and soul, not to get all bohemian.
Got there around 5 maybe? Had the some delicious chocolate cake for the baby's birthday [positive - I didn't have any ice cream with mine]. Then I had a dinner of diet A&W, a large salad with Ranch dressing and some Asian noodles with all types of goodness mixed in. Reasonable enough, but remember where we are. Then came out the carrot cake. Yes, 2 cakes, one night, that is how they do it. Ed's mom's carrot cake is one of my top 3 favorite things to ever eat in the world, so of course I indulged in some slivers.
Still no exercise, way too many calories but this is what weekends like this are for. We had a great time, the little man liked his presents and I got to see the dog. I'm having a glass or 3 of riesling right now. I cheaped out and went $12 instead of $14 and will not be repeating that mistake. The booze will probably prompt me to make a bag of microwave popcorn shortly. I'll ride the bike tomorrow, promise.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Blah Sunday
So it's kind of a waste of a day. I woke up at 4am and couldn't sleep, so I hung out and read until like 6 and then got a few more hours, still way too early for a Sunday. Thanks again to Trans Hardwoods and my landlord for ruining my first sleep in late [at home] weekend in a long ass time. Polyurethane smells lovely in the morning.
I made myself a healthy breakfast of 2 fried eggs [good girl style in pan spray and Earth Balance; oh how I miss butter] and a bowl of some Paul Newman flake cereal that has dried strawberries in it. Still on the fence about that, but it's not god-awful. I had it with soy milk and a banana and it's 3:15 now and I'm still full.
Went out and picked up Darling's nephew's 2nd [!] birthday gifts around Somerville. Had an "Amanda Palmer" [their name] from the 1369 Coffee Shop while out and about. I really want to like that place but I have a fundamental problem with establishments that have no customers, 4 hipsters behind the counter, dressed to the nines, and still take 3 full minutes to look in my direction, never mind acknowledge me. And said-acknowledgment was a grunt, not a how are you or even a hey. Plus, I sized up [accurately] my counter-boy as being a bit on the dumb side of the fence and made an effort to explicitly order a "Half Iced-Tea, Half Lemonade". Another minute of a blank stare followed and I'm trying to figure out how to further simplify that and he finally lights up and goes "Arnold Palmer?". I almost asked him if his fedora [side note: it's 80 degrees out, and 1369 is not AC'd] was on too tight.
Exercise....ehh, it's Sunday. Does walking around Target for 2 hours among legions of returning students count? I pushed a cart the whole time. And carried all 5 bags up our 3 flights at once. It will have to do, we were supposed to help my trivia compadres [Dragonhearts unite!] move a couch or 2 but they just indicated they're all set. It's like a higher power WANTS me to sit on my ass all day...
I made myself a healthy breakfast of 2 fried eggs [good girl style in pan spray and Earth Balance; oh how I miss butter] and a bowl of some Paul Newman flake cereal that has dried strawberries in it. Still on the fence about that, but it's not god-awful. I had it with soy milk and a banana and it's 3:15 now and I'm still full.
Went out and picked up Darling's nephew's 2nd [!] birthday gifts around Somerville. Had an "Amanda Palmer" [their name] from the 1369 Coffee Shop while out and about. I really want to like that place but I have a fundamental problem with establishments that have no customers, 4 hipsters behind the counter, dressed to the nines, and still take 3 full minutes to look in my direction, never mind acknowledge me. And said-acknowledgment was a grunt, not a how are you or even a hey. Plus, I sized up [accurately] my counter-boy as being a bit on the dumb side of the fence and made an effort to explicitly order a "Half Iced-Tea, Half Lemonade". Another minute of a blank stare followed and I'm trying to figure out how to further simplify that and he finally lights up and goes "Arnold Palmer?". I almost asked him if his fedora [side note: it's 80 degrees out, and 1369 is not AC'd] was on too tight.
Exercise....ehh, it's Sunday. Does walking around Target for 2 hours among legions of returning students count? I pushed a cart the whole time. And carried all 5 bags up our 3 flights at once. It will have to do, we were supposed to help my trivia compadres [Dragonhearts unite!] move a couch or 2 but they just indicated they're all set. It's like a higher power WANTS me to sit on my ass all day...
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Is it bad that I'm eating Ben and Jerry's while typing this?
Is it worse that it's Saturday night at 10:17 and I'm blogging? You decide.
So I was successful with my hour on the bike, I tuned into MTV's new show, Busted instead of Intervention. MTV puts crack in their TV, I swear. I am a college-educated, professional, late-20 something, who grew up in a good home, without real cable, and I will sit in front of a Making Of The Band marathon like there is no tomorrow. Busted is awesome, it's COPS for the under 25 crowd, lots of pot and DUI citations, lots of dumbasses, love it.
I biked and then did my poor form arm exercises. With an old Cosmo Girl article and Ed's help, I made up a regimen of 6 arm exercises. At this point, I'm happy just to be doing them. Darling commented the other day that my form is crap and offered to help me fix that. I told him thanks but I'm going to hold off until I get more accustomed to doing the reps [15 each for each arm, sadly that's a lot for me], then fix my form. Right now between that and the bike, I am utterly exhausted when I complete them and that is enough for me.
As bonus points, I walked to and from Davis to pick up some dry cleaning. I resisted the urge to pick up a loaf of When Pigs Fly bread, a.k.a. my weakness. Instead I had an apple early afternoon and some Poland Spring seltzer. Then I made some diced tomatoes and mozarella with oil and vinegar and spices on it [so good] when I thought we weren't doing anything for supper. Of course, then we decided to go get mexican at La Tacqueria Mexicana [apologies on that spelling], which we did. I had a chicken quesadilla and some rice and beans and an ass-load of chips and salsa to pre-game. I also had 2 fruity margaritas, these are the real thing not the 100% corn syrup frozen margaritas, but I know booze isn't the best thing for rapid weight loss. I'm at a point now where I enjoy my cocktails, and I'd like to keep them in my life. We shall see; Darling always says the best way to lose weight is to stop drinking for a while.
To set this indulgence off, we walked there and back, which is probably a mile each way. To further set that off, I had intentions of hitting up JP Licks for a cone on the dog path. I vetoed this, some creeps have been harrassing yuppies on the path lately and STEALING IPHONES. I can't imagine what I would do if some motherfucker got a hold of mine, so I'm steering clear for a while. Instead, got a pint of Half Baked at Dillip's and rationed myself out a very small portion. Yeah, self restraint!
Tonight's plus: I stopped to get a water on my way home and a fellow patron commented that she "loved my hayh cullah". She was sweet, I blushed and thanked her. Then on my way out, I heard her say to the clerk "Yeah, you'll staht seeing all the students back around now". She thinks I'm 20, maybe even 18: YES! Black hooded sweatshirt, works every time.
Tonight's wahhh-wahhh: Arrived home to a darkened house [Darling is off at a party, I'm anti-social]. Wandered barefoot into the kitchen to get a spoon and mug for the B&J. Upon closing in on the light switch, I stopped short upon seeing what looked like an odd dark little shadow on the floor. Thought to myself - sarcastically- "Ha, it's probably a dead mouse, I hate this place". Well the lights go on and Yahtzee! The welcome wagon is here in a tiny lifeless grey body, gross claws and little teeth blazing. We seriously need to move. Until then, flip flops on at all times.
All in all, the Sox won. It still feels like summer. I'm in the middle of a 3 day weekend. I have a pile of magazines and bad cable waiting for me. Barbecue with my parents coming up on Monday. Life is good.
So I was successful with my hour on the bike, I tuned into MTV's new show, Busted instead of Intervention. MTV puts crack in their TV, I swear. I am a college-educated, professional, late-20 something, who grew up in a good home, without real cable, and I will sit in front of a Making Of The Band marathon like there is no tomorrow. Busted is awesome, it's COPS for the under 25 crowd, lots of pot and DUI citations, lots of dumbasses, love it.
I biked and then did my poor form arm exercises. With an old Cosmo Girl article and Ed's help, I made up a regimen of 6 arm exercises. At this point, I'm happy just to be doing them. Darling commented the other day that my form is crap and offered to help me fix that. I told him thanks but I'm going to hold off until I get more accustomed to doing the reps [15 each for each arm, sadly that's a lot for me], then fix my form. Right now between that and the bike, I am utterly exhausted when I complete them and that is enough for me.
As bonus points, I walked to and from Davis to pick up some dry cleaning. I resisted the urge to pick up a loaf of When Pigs Fly bread, a.k.a. my weakness. Instead I had an apple early afternoon and some Poland Spring seltzer. Then I made some diced tomatoes and mozarella with oil and vinegar and spices on it [so good] when I thought we weren't doing anything for supper. Of course, then we decided to go get mexican at La Tacqueria Mexicana [apologies on that spelling], which we did. I had a chicken quesadilla and some rice and beans and an ass-load of chips and salsa to pre-game. I also had 2 fruity margaritas, these are the real thing not the 100% corn syrup frozen margaritas, but I know booze isn't the best thing for rapid weight loss. I'm at a point now where I enjoy my cocktails, and I'd like to keep them in my life. We shall see; Darling always says the best way to lose weight is to stop drinking for a while.
To set this indulgence off, we walked there and back, which is probably a mile each way. To further set that off, I had intentions of hitting up JP Licks for a cone on the dog path. I vetoed this, some creeps have been harrassing yuppies on the path lately and STEALING IPHONES. I can't imagine what I would do if some motherfucker got a hold of mine, so I'm steering clear for a while. Instead, got a pint of Half Baked at Dillip's and rationed myself out a very small portion. Yeah, self restraint!
Tonight's plus: I stopped to get a water on my way home and a fellow patron commented that she "loved my hayh cullah". She was sweet, I blushed and thanked her. Then on my way out, I heard her say to the clerk "Yeah, you'll staht seeing all the students back around now". She thinks I'm 20, maybe even 18: YES! Black hooded sweatshirt, works every time.
Tonight's wahhh-wahhh: Arrived home to a darkened house [Darling is off at a party, I'm anti-social]. Wandered barefoot into the kitchen to get a spoon and mug for the B&J. Upon closing in on the light switch, I stopped short upon seeing what looked like an odd dark little shadow on the floor. Thought to myself - sarcastically- "Ha, it's probably a dead mouse, I hate this place". Well the lights go on and Yahtzee! The welcome wagon is here in a tiny lifeless grey body, gross claws and little teeth blazing. We seriously need to move. Until then, flip flops on at all times.
All in all, the Sox won. It still feels like summer. I'm in the middle of a 3 day weekend. I have a pile of magazines and bad cable waiting for me. Barbecue with my parents coming up on Monday. Life is good.
And so it begins
Nearing the end of my 20s, I'm starting to think I should maybe get my act together in various segments of my life. One of these areas needing improvement would be the over-sized lump that my stomach has turned into, with footnotes of my 2nd and now 3rd chin. I am finally starting to concede that the blessed metabolism of my youth has finally gone the way of the dodo. The more-of-me-to-love is a result of the past few [read: 10] years of my wonderful Just-Say-Yes diet and non-existent exercise regime. It's a simple enough formula: I like food and hate moving. I am by no means morbidly obese or in any danger healthwise, but it's no fun when your pants hurt to button. Plus, I am always tired and I'm starting to resent the energy those bratty Somerville High kids that I take the bus with always seem to have oozing out of them.
So, in an effort to stick to some kind of program and yield positive results, I've decided to embrace my inner-geek and blog my getting in shape experiences. Based on my flexibility [ha] and penchant for bagels, it should be hilarious. And speaking of hilarious, the title for my blog has been inspired by our recent trip to Montreal...where we went explicitly to sleep late, eat tons of deliciousness and drink wine. Mission Accomplished overall, but back to the title:
Our first night there, after walking what felt like 3 miles [or 47 kilometers...whatever] to get the lay of the land, we wind up in this little garden level, super-cute Italian joint. Family run, the husband greets and seats you, the wife fills your water glass and brings you menus, so adorable. It was a beautiful summer night, so I had decided to wear one of those flowy summer tops that look put together but are still soooo comfy. Upon entering, Darling asks for a table for two and the husband immediately brings us over to a table mumbling in a Welcoming Old Man French/English and looking at my belly ".....yes, for two-AND-A-HALF" *smile, smile*. Ed and I look at eachother. Did I just hear that right? I'm not used to the accent yet and my ears suck. Needless to say, upon bringing us [warm!] bread and setting up our places, there is a bit more gesturing and smiling, all around my mid-section, with proud side glances over to Ed. Confirmed, he thinks I'm one and a half. Not the first time it's happened, but the first time it's had its own catch-phrase. Awesome.
Ed and and I laugh, I make some kind of obligatory joke but then I remember we brought our own wine, and a nice bottle! I will not have this guy thinking I'm willingly FAS'ing my unborn, so I know I have to let him know there is no fetus in the hizzouse. He comes over to take our orders, I unintentionally ask how big one of the pasta dishes is and he answers that it will be perfect for me and junior. That's my cue, "Ha ha ha, yeah but there's no half" and I for some reason [low blood sugar?] feel the need to further humilate myself by flattening my shirt to my stomach to back this up and then saying, "But don't worry, I still eat like one and a half". Good times all around. I make sure to bust his balls on the way out, in a gentle manner. Nice way to start a vacation; at least this gave Darling something to chuckle about the rest of the trip.
Back to now, it's Labor Day weekend, vacation is over. Today is August 30th...where the hell did the summer go? Regardless, my dear friend/running [read: walk and talk shit with occasional 2 minute jogs in between] buddy Erin and I have agreed to do a 5k on October 4th. All those motivational articles say to set something up that you have to stick to. This will be the first of little goals to be met, to-do lists work for me at my job and always worked during school, so I'll give it a shot. Plus, I have other motivating factors-
1. I need something to blog about.
2. As I type this, my 62 year old dad just registered for his second marathon of the year in San Antonio. He is like that LaFontaine? or PreFontaine? dude. If he can run like that, something must've trickled down genetically, maybe I just need to kick it off...
3. Ed, understandably, has very little faith that I'll stick to this. Proving him wrong would be sweet. Not sweet like the third of the XXL Toblerone [god bless Duty Free!] that I inhaled at 10:30 last night, but still quite satisfying.
With that verbose intro, I'm supposed to be tracking my food and exercise crap right? Here goes: I slept like shit [allergies + landlord having floors downstairs done AT 8 AM ON A SATURDAY] and was lazy so I went to DD for breakfast, per usual: a HEC on a croissant and a large tea with skim and 2 Splendas. Croissant was NOT worth it. As penance, I'm now off to sit on the bike for an hour. Last year, on a health kick, Darling went and got us a very nice exercise bike for our living room - I have no excuses! It's 85 and muggy out, so I'll watch Intervention and bike up fake hills. Living the dream.
So, in an effort to stick to some kind of program and yield positive results, I've decided to embrace my inner-geek and blog my getting in shape experiences. Based on my flexibility [ha] and penchant for bagels, it should be hilarious. And speaking of hilarious, the title for my blog has been inspired by our recent trip to Montreal...where we went explicitly to sleep late, eat tons of deliciousness and drink wine. Mission Accomplished overall, but back to the title:
Our first night there, after walking what felt like 3 miles [or 47 kilometers...whatever] to get the lay of the land, we wind up in this little garden level, super-cute Italian joint. Family run, the husband greets and seats you, the wife fills your water glass and brings you menus, so adorable. It was a beautiful summer night, so I had decided to wear one of those flowy summer tops that look put together but are still soooo comfy. Upon entering, Darling asks for a table for two and the husband immediately brings us over to a table mumbling in a Welcoming Old Man French/English and looking at my belly ".....yes, for two-AND-A-HALF" *smile, smile*. Ed and I look at eachother. Did I just hear that right? I'm not used to the accent yet and my ears suck. Needless to say, upon bringing us [warm!] bread and setting up our places, there is a bit more gesturing and smiling, all around my mid-section, with proud side glances over to Ed. Confirmed, he thinks I'm one and a half. Not the first time it's happened, but the first time it's had its own catch-phrase. Awesome.
Ed and and I laugh, I make some kind of obligatory joke but then I remember we brought our own wine, and a nice bottle! I will not have this guy thinking I'm willingly FAS'ing my unborn, so I know I have to let him know there is no fetus in the hizzouse. He comes over to take our orders, I unintentionally ask how big one of the pasta dishes is and he answers that it will be perfect for me and junior. That's my cue, "Ha ha ha, yeah but there's no half" and I for some reason [low blood sugar?] feel the need to further humilate myself by flattening my shirt to my stomach to back this up and then saying, "But don't worry, I still eat like one and a half". Good times all around. I make sure to bust his balls on the way out, in a gentle manner. Nice way to start a vacation; at least this gave Darling something to chuckle about the rest of the trip.
Back to now, it's Labor Day weekend, vacation is over. Today is August 30th...where the hell did the summer go? Regardless, my dear friend/running [read: walk and talk shit with occasional 2 minute jogs in between] buddy Erin and I have agreed to do a 5k on October 4th. All those motivational articles say to set something up that you have to stick to. This will be the first of little goals to be met, to-do lists work for me at my job and always worked during school, so I'll give it a shot. Plus, I have other motivating factors-
1. I need something to blog about.
2. As I type this, my 62 year old dad just registered for his second marathon of the year in San Antonio. He is like that LaFontaine? or PreFontaine? dude. If he can run like that, something must've trickled down genetically, maybe I just need to kick it off...
3. Ed, understandably, has very little faith that I'll stick to this. Proving him wrong would be sweet. Not sweet like the third of the XXL Toblerone [god bless Duty Free!] that I inhaled at 10:30 last night, but still quite satisfying.
With that verbose intro, I'm supposed to be tracking my food and exercise crap right? Here goes: I slept like shit [allergies + landlord having floors downstairs done AT 8 AM ON A SATURDAY] and was lazy so I went to DD for breakfast, per usual: a HEC on a croissant and a large tea with skim and 2 Splendas. Croissant was NOT worth it. As penance, I'm now off to sit on the bike for an hour. Last year, on a health kick, Darling went and got us a very nice exercise bike for our living room - I have no excuses! It's 85 and muggy out, so I'll watch Intervention and bike up fake hills. Living the dream.
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