Showing posts from August, 2014

Sparky People Week One

Well, I've been officially on SparkPeople for one week as of today. I have lost 3 pounds.

I've got to say, so far I am liking this program. I can be as joiny or a-social as I like (surprise surprise I have chosen to go a-social on this), and they have some decent articles and ideas. You can use their meal plans or eat your own food. You can also tailor your daily inspirations to be uniquely yours: your wording, your goals, your needs. They don't yell at you or turn things red when you go over your daily goals or don't meet them at all. It's as chill as you need or want it to be.

This is usually the point when I get all cocky and think to myself "oh, look at all I just did and now I can sit back and watch the rest slide off" and then end up gaining it all back. So this is where I'm going to have to hunker down and keep on keepin' on.

One thing I didn't expect (although I have no idea why I thought I'd be the exception to the rule) was all o…

I Have Nothing of Note to Post, so You're Getting Pictures

I am not a morning person, and anyone who's been around me before 10am when I haven't had coffee will attest to this. However, I had to drop my car off to get inspected this morning so I was up in time to catch my wee little valley town unveiling itself to the day. It is a rare treat for me to see this, and I never get sick of the views.

Also, last night I went to the fair with a friend. We both agreed that it seemed to be getting smaller. They also moved everything around on us so we couldn't find anything. How dare they reorganize! Harumph grumble grumble.

Because Sometimes You Need to Just Stop Bitching and Do It.

I have been eating like a 12-year old boy this week.

It has been AWESOME. Chicken nuggets and tater tots as far as the eye can see.

However, I'm fairly certain that my arteries have clogged and my cholesterol has sky-rocketed. High blood pressure? Sure, let's add that on for good measure. Why not?

So yeah. It's gotten to the point where even I am sicking of listening to myself bitch about the spare tire around my middle. So - as we like to say in my family - it's time to fish or cut bait. We say this mainly because my brother for years did not understand why you couldn't do both and would argue that the saying made no sense and he didn't get it. This is also the guy who when asked what the sound of one hand clapping is, will actually clap one hand. He can do it. It's weird.

And we're back.

I briefly checked out Weight Watchers, as that is where I lost most of my weight the first time around. However, the $50 joining fee put me off because me=poor. Also,…


It's been that kind of a week. You blink and it's gone. Actually, it's been that kind of a couple weeks. For which I am immensely grateful. Because my bank account has finally stopped looking at me like:

I am definitely going to need a few more weeks before the low-grade worry which I'm doing my best to not do goes away, but I am not feeling quite so desperate as I was last month. Which is a huge relief.

This week I spent money I didn't really have on something I really did need - a massage/energy work. I could have worked a trade, but sometimes not owing anyone anything is part of the treatment. If you get my meaning. I needed this. Badly. I needed work without strings attached. The body work was definitely needed but the energy work moreso, I think. I felt soooooooo good afterward. Actually, two days out and I'm still feeling pretty damned good. More chill. I like chill.

A couple things came to my friend while she was clearing my energy: that I need to have f…

Out of the Depths

I am going through old journals and pulling out entries that speak to me. I'm doing this in hopes of pulling some kind of book together. Which I first mentioned like forever ago but a recent prompt from my friend Cheryl has gotten me back on the path.

I started my earliest journal when I was 13, but wrote in only once or twice a year. When I was 29 started making entries on a regular basis. These days, I go through about a journal a year. That's in addition to what I write here. Books upon books of drudgery, with some hidden gems among the pages. This is one of them. It was undated in the journal, but written sometime in 2001 or 2002, when I would have been 27/28. I wrote of lot of schlock poetry back then (hell I still do), but the simplicity of this one has always enchanted me.

Mists hide
future slide
desire flies
hidden eyes
lost me
soon see
run away
new day
horizon view
need new
find mine
dark shine

I may or may not have posted this one here before. Frankly I'm…

Pretty Things

Since my last few posts were pretty negative and whiney and involved a lot of me beating myself up over not being perfect, I figured I'd post something highly positive and beautiful:

I gave a friend of mine a massage this morning and this glorious haul was my "tip". There was another cucumber but it was a guest at lunch today. 
NOMS. Beautiful, glorious NOMS.

Deep-fried Control Freak

Yeah, so my little food experiment is a bust. Not in the "it failed" kind of way, more of in a "holy cow how deep into the minutia of controlling myself can I go and I DON'T WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME ANYMORE!!"

I have felt for many years now that I have a tendency to tickle along the far edges of an eating dis-order. Because lord knows my relationship with food is pretty chaotic. I won't say I actually have a disorder, because I feel like that belittles the plight of so many who suffer deeply from these issues.

I slip through the cracks because the whole definition of my problem is: my emotional eater shares a small apartment with my control freak and they get along except for when they don't and then all hell breaks out.

They don't make a meeting for that.

I suppose I could find someone for one-on-one sessions, but then I would feel whiney and complainey and that I'm making a way bigger deal out of this than it really is.

I come here to whine and …


I'm having a morning. I was woken up at 7:30 to a rousing, screeching rendition of "Walk This Way" sung to the Classic Rock station. Which is, of course, one of my favorite ways of greeting the day. I have been listening to the siding guys bang, crash, saw, hammer and shout amicably at each other all week and this morning I have pretty much reached my upper limit of patience.

I really covet my quiet morning routine. It helps sets me up to greet my clients in a manner that allows me to be compassionate, understanding, and ready to assist them with their goals. Between the roofing guys and the siding guys, my quiet mornings have been nonexistent for the last month. As a result I have been struggling to find my peace, my ground, and my positive energy. In a last-ditch desperate attempt, I figured out the quietest space in the apartment and proceeded to make myself a little nest:

Yes, that is my storage closet. Yes, I realize how crazy and ridiculous this is. Sigh. It was wo…