1.It’s probably a good thing that "Rescue Me" is ending the series. I hate saying that, but shit – the wheels done fell off that wagon about two seasons ago. I adored this series, especially because I watched it off of dvd while I rode my bike on a trainer all winter in prep for IM AZ and feel a special connection to it. But it’s not the same. It’s not funny – it’s just kinda silly. Of course, I say this as I am about to watch the series finale, and, when coupled with my raging hormones, will probably bawl my eyes out. ‘Cause that’s how my mood swings these days.
2.Speaking of raging hormones – holy effing maternity meltdown tonight. It started at Gap Maternity (where I was lured into thinking it held the treasures of cute maternity jeans – spoiler alert – it didn’t). For the first time in my 6 ½ months, I tried on maternity clothes that were not hand-me-downs from my sister’s closet. Long story short - it didn’t go well. Looking at myself in the mirror in my bedroom is not the same ballgame as checking out the new, rounder M in the three-way mirror of the Gap. Couple that with the last few weeks of noticing how – in general – I just look different, older, balder, chalkier and ugly – and I lost it. In a way that you just can’t come back from to resume happy shopping. It’s not a fat versus skinny thing – it’s a getting-older-frumpier-in-need-of-a-haricut-and-makeover-and-holy-shit-nice-eye-bags-and-double-chin thing.
3.I think I have finally spanned the spectrum of pregnancy experiences. From the uber sick to the super tired, and now into the “holy-shit-where-did-this-energy-come-from-did-someone-slip-me-meth?” I can barely wind down enough to go to sleep at night, I can’t read enough books, and I want to run all the time. And when I start running, I don’t want to stop. And my mind starts thinking crazy thoughts like “I could do a half-marathon!” and I need to be talked off of that ledge. Right? Right?!?!?
4.Speaking of running, I have been helping my sister Ellen prepare for her first marathon. I’ve been meeting her on the weekends to keep her company on long runs. Now, I don’t do all of the miles – like, if she has 14, I meet her halfway and do 7, or if she has 10, I can do that – but nothing quite yet over 10. This past weekend, she had 18 – so I did the middle 11-ish (was supposed to be 10 but I slightly miscalculated). Now you can see why the idea of a half-marathon doesn’t seem so crazy, right? Again, right?!?!?
5.I feel I need to qualify the last two points with this: I don’t mention this running stuff because I need/want people to tell me all sorts of validating things. In my last post, I mentioned that girl who always posts the blow-by-blow of her pregnancy on Facebook because she needs people to tell her how awesome she is that she kept running up to her third trimester, yada yada
(Side bar #1 - man,can I just reiterate how much she bugs that SHIT out of me – seriously, how many more half-nekkid growing belly pics or videos of her baby moving around in her belly do I need to see? Dang, I get that you’re excited, but come one – it’s the Internets - how about emailing that shit to your family instead of posting it for the world to see? No offense but the LAST thing I am going to do is post half-nakkid pics or belly videos on Facebook so that shady kid I sat next to in the second grade and who tortured me with his wet boogers and haven’t’ heard from since until he Friended me and who may or may not be an ex-con can see. Uh, no thanks.)
Now where was I? Oh right. For the record, I haven’t maintained my running for bragging rights or praise – I run so I can feel like I’m not a big fat slob, and so the mountain I will need to climb comes January isn’t so, well, enormous. And I write it here because this is like my journal, and that’s what you do in a journal – keep track of the good (running and poptarts) and the bad (body image and celulite). So that’s that.
(Side bar #2 - My above rant about Facebook posting does not apply to those that have documented their pregnancies on their blogs - which I read, enjoy and benefit from - especially posts from active triathlete bloggers who post about workout clothes tips and how to survive these crazy thoughts triggered by this 9-month mess. Yeah, I know - it's a double standard that I have no problem with blog posts but I get annoyed by the Facebook girl. And maybe it's not really about the Facebook posts at all, but more about that girl herself and all her annoyingness. Or maybe I just appreciate the stories/tips as opposed to the status updates. Or maybe I'm just a bitch. Yeah, that might be it.)
6.Speaking of body image, at my niece’s birthday party the other day, my mom told me that she is now convinced I am having a boy. When I asked her why, she stated, “Because when I had a boy, my ass got big like that too.” And in case I wasn’t sure what she was referring to, she pointed to my ass, and held out her hands about two feet wide. Just for a visual perspective. Fuck it - I ate the cake anyways.
7.Speaking of baby, mine’s still growing. Like I mentioned, I am 6 ½ months (although according to my husband and his mad mathmatic skills, I’m 5 months – hmmm…guess when the baby pops out a month ahead of his personal schedule, I’ll feign surprise). Kicking like a maniac, trying to punch out my belly button. And although we have opted not to find out, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if a baby girl doesn't fall out of my lady bits in the next few months.
8.Totally unrelated - I’m always surprised when I watch a Sex in the City that I haven’t seen before. Especially the super early ones in which Carrie actually looks at and talks to the camera. That’s weird – I’m glad they stopped that.
9.Getting back to point 6, this pregnancy is a big mind fuck – especially for chicks like me who have a history of screwy eating and body-image issues. I didn’t realize how much I think or worry about my weight and appearance until last week, when I saw a friend for the first time in a while, and I spent way too much time lamenting about my new – ahem – proportions. Man, I sounded so shallow – and even said that a time or two. I am embarrassed that I care so much. I am keeping my fingers crossed that all this shit will become insignificant once this kid arrives – because that’s what everyone keeps telling me. I wonder if this kid realizes how much pressure she's under - what with all the responsibility of giving me a new personality and world view. Shoo - and she probably thinks all she needs to do is look cute and drink some boobie milk. Dear Baby: This is your wake up call. Momma needs a new perspective.
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Growing
Just for the record, this current posting lapse actually wasn’t my fault. My POS computer ka-plut again four weeks ago (for the second time). Sadly, this also coincided with my husband’s 3-week business trip, so I have been sans computer for the last four weeks.
Nonetheless, I have managed to keep track of some thoughts, just haven’t been able to actually get around to posting.
Here goes:
1. Its always interesting to share the good new with someone, and then have them respond with a story about their wife’s stillbirth at 6 months. Not that I'm judging (because holy crap that would be devastating), it's just somewhat sobering when you are expecting a "congrats!"
2. Still sick, but been running though. By the end of week 13, I was like, “Eff you, Sick. You’re my bitch now.” So of course it only made sense to sign up for a 10k two days post-proclamation. And for those of you thinking, “Well 6 miles isn’t that far” – tell that to my non-running-for-three-months legs, my newly rounded-out hips, and a flappy (yes, flappy) ass. They would beg to differ.
(Me and my sweet face niece Ford, whose mommy pushed her in a stroller for the race. I'm fueled by prenatal vitamins, Ford is fueling on my phone protector. The protector probably tastes better.)
3. Turns out Fatigue was a fashionably late to the party. Showed up at week 14, and was like, “Where’s the keg, yo?” I was like, “It’s under the pillow and comforter, yo.”
4. Then it was Insomnia’s turn. Showed up at Week 16. At 330 am. Every night. It’s been awesome. But the sunny side is that I get a lot of work done at 4am (which is good given the Sick likes to stop in around dinner time and stay for the night, preventing ANY sort of anything getting done, except some serious couch surfing), and learned that some really interesting (read: smelly weirdos) go to the gym at this insanely stupid hour.
So as it stands, I am officially 18 weeks pregnant. The morning-noon-night sickness decided to hang around looking for a free meal, so I finally went back on prescription nausea meds this past week. I avoided this as long as possible – trying out every single other recommendation given to me (except acupuncture) with little overall success.
I am up more pounds than probably normal at this point, but the good news is that is seems mostly be in my obscenely large knockers (well, good news for the husband), and I have forced myself back to the gym at least four times weekly. No matter how sick I feel before hand, going for a treadmill incline walk or 5k run seems to make it slightly better.
I will be honest – the shallow part of me gets really self-conscious at the gym in my now-tight shorts and my minute-slower-per-mile pace that I hide under a towel, and I find myself resisting the urge to stand in the middle of the gym and scream, “This isn’t what I really look like! I swear I am fit! I’m just pregnant! I swear! I was an Ironman, for crying out loud!! Stop judging my cellulite!” But then reality kicks in and I try to remind myself that no matter how much my body is revolting against me (see also: leakage and a double chin), it’s all for a good cause.
As in – a baby.
(Trust me, it's under there - about four people have asked me to post "belly pics" to Facebook, but I'm sorry, I can't get past standing half-nekkid in a bra and taking awkward pictures of my large self. I have a "friend" on FB who does this every month, and it kinda weirds me out - no offense to anyone reading that has done this during their own pregnancy. Just a personal preference. If you're a lady with kids, you know what it looks like. If you're a man with kids, you've seen your wife's. Mine looks probably about the same.)
Oh, and one last thing – seeing as I have been super sick for so long and my husband is mostly gone all the time, I’ve taken to texting him photos of what our baby might look like:
You are what you eat, right?
Oh my poor poor husband - getting a text of a piece of toast is a far cry from the texts he got during the early dating days when he was on the road for weeks at a time and had a tan, lean, fit girlfriend (that would be me).
Then again, there’s high likelihood I will be birthing a wedge of cheddar cheese with a watermelon head. Or if my kid's a 12-pounder like my husband was at birth, maybe it will just FEEL like a watermelon.
And with enough TMI to make a horse vomit, I'm out.
Nonetheless, I have managed to keep track of some thoughts, just haven’t been able to actually get around to posting.
Here goes:
1. Its always interesting to share the good new with someone, and then have them respond with a story about their wife’s stillbirth at 6 months. Not that I'm judging (because holy crap that would be devastating), it's just somewhat sobering when you are expecting a "congrats!"
2. Still sick, but been running though. By the end of week 13, I was like, “Eff you, Sick. You’re my bitch now.” So of course it only made sense to sign up for a 10k two days post-proclamation. And for those of you thinking, “Well 6 miles isn’t that far” – tell that to my non-running-for-three-months legs, my newly rounded-out hips, and a flappy (yes, flappy) ass. They would beg to differ.
(Me and my sweet face niece Ford, whose mommy pushed her in a stroller for the race. I'm fueled by prenatal vitamins, Ford is fueling on my phone protector. The protector probably tastes better.)
3. Turns out Fatigue was a fashionably late to the party. Showed up at week 14, and was like, “Where’s the keg, yo?” I was like, “It’s under the pillow and comforter, yo.”
4. Then it was Insomnia’s turn. Showed up at Week 16. At 330 am. Every night. It’s been awesome. But the sunny side is that I get a lot of work done at 4am (which is good given the Sick likes to stop in around dinner time and stay for the night, preventing ANY sort of anything getting done, except some serious couch surfing), and learned that some really interesting (read: smelly weirdos) go to the gym at this insanely stupid hour.
So as it stands, I am officially 18 weeks pregnant. The morning-noon-night sickness decided to hang around looking for a free meal, so I finally went back on prescription nausea meds this past week. I avoided this as long as possible – trying out every single other recommendation given to me (except acupuncture) with little overall success.
I am up more pounds than probably normal at this point, but the good news is that is seems mostly be in my obscenely large knockers (well, good news for the husband), and I have forced myself back to the gym at least four times weekly. No matter how sick I feel before hand, going for a treadmill incline walk or 5k run seems to make it slightly better.
I will be honest – the shallow part of me gets really self-conscious at the gym in my now-tight shorts and my minute-slower-per-mile pace that I hide under a towel, and I find myself resisting the urge to stand in the middle of the gym and scream, “This isn’t what I really look like! I swear I am fit! I’m just pregnant! I swear! I was an Ironman, for crying out loud!! Stop judging my cellulite!” But then reality kicks in and I try to remind myself that no matter how much my body is revolting against me (see also: leakage and a double chin), it’s all for a good cause.
As in – a baby.
(Trust me, it's under there - about four people have asked me to post "belly pics" to Facebook, but I'm sorry, I can't get past standing half-nekkid in a bra and taking awkward pictures of my large self. I have a "friend" on FB who does this every month, and it kinda weirds me out - no offense to anyone reading that has done this during their own pregnancy. Just a personal preference. If you're a lady with kids, you know what it looks like. If you're a man with kids, you've seen your wife's. Mine looks probably about the same.)
Oh, and one last thing – seeing as I have been super sick for so long and my husband is mostly gone all the time, I’ve taken to texting him photos of what our baby might look like:
You are what you eat, right?
Oh my poor poor husband - getting a text of a piece of toast is a far cry from the texts he got during the early dating days when he was on the road for weeks at a time and had a tan, lean, fit girlfriend (that would be me).
Then again, there’s high likelihood I will be birthing a wedge of cheddar cheese with a watermelon head. Or if my kid's a 12-pounder like my husband was at birth, maybe it will just FEEL like a watermelon.
And with enough TMI to make a horse vomit, I'm out.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Post-Holiday
1. I don’t find Robert Patterson at all attractive. He looks like his mouth stinks.
2. I like my sweets, but over Christmas discovered how many I can actually eat in one sitting – and it’s ASTOUNDING. It’s like my mind says, “NO!” But my belly says, “MORE!” Belly, you win.
3. At some point I need to organize my Ironman training – I am sans coach this time around, but have identified a plan to follow, am getting involved in Computrainer class, and doing some other stuff to keep me honest about my training. Of course, IM training also means getting in the pool. I guess holding my breath for the announcement that Ironman is now a duathlon is pointless, yeah?
4. I hate Facebook. I’m all but off it – at least when it comes to posting on my own status. I am actually kind of surprised that it’s still going strong, but apparently most of us are far bigger voyeurs and narcissists than we knew – myself included. I mean, come on – how much do we think other people give a shit about our lives that we feel a compulsion to post the minutia of our days? Half the time I don’t even care about my daily activities. Plus, it only encourages me to get involved in political conversations with people I either don’t know, don’t care about, or will never change their mind. So why madden myself? (in my defense, these have significantly decreased in the last 12 months really for no ohter reason than to maintain my sanity, and I've only jumped in the last few days when I feel people need to be called out on their hypocrisy, like I'm self-appointed Facebook Hypocrisy Police) Point is - it's not really fun anymore. I am trying to get more regular at blogging – that way, people can seek me out if they want, rather than me inundating their home page with what I ate for breakfast.
5. Lately some of my happiest moments have been in the aisles of Costco. Not sure what that’s about, but it might have something to do with the coupling of supersizing and good deals, and the Zen-like calm it brings. Plus, few other places exist where you can literally spend an entire Saturday consuming all three meals. For free. And then leave with a sectional couch.
6. I have my team holiday party tomorrow. We got too sidetracked before the holidays, so alas - holiday cheer in January. And I am all about giving our team a break to just chill and socialize and get out from behind their computers. But I am not really looking forward to it. Why? Well, most of you don’t know this (unless you are my husband) but I have extreme social anxiety. Like, to the point I even need to take a nap during family parties because socializing truly is that exhausting for me (weird, I know – my family reading this now is probably like “huh?”). Needless to say, work parties are tough for me. My anxiety usually leads to me over-sharing during small talk (awkward for everyone), sweating profusely (hence my almost-entirely black wardrobe), and standing around aimlessly when the people I supervise suddenly realize they probably shouldn’t be discussing their personal life with their sweaty, stammering supervisor.
In the end, I usually just resign myself the supervisors table, which is akin to the grandparents table at a Sweet 16 party - there only as a courtosy/formality, but pushed into the corner, out-of-the-loop, and wondering why the music is so loud and the skirts so short.
2. I like my sweets, but over Christmas discovered how many I can actually eat in one sitting – and it’s ASTOUNDING. It’s like my mind says, “NO!” But my belly says, “MORE!” Belly, you win.
3. At some point I need to organize my Ironman training – I am sans coach this time around, but have identified a plan to follow, am getting involved in Computrainer class, and doing some other stuff to keep me honest about my training. Of course, IM training also means getting in the pool. I guess holding my breath for the announcement that Ironman is now a duathlon is pointless, yeah?
4. I hate Facebook. I’m all but off it – at least when it comes to posting on my own status. I am actually kind of surprised that it’s still going strong, but apparently most of us are far bigger voyeurs and narcissists than we knew – myself included. I mean, come on – how much do we think other people give a shit about our lives that we feel a compulsion to post the minutia of our days? Half the time I don’t even care about my daily activities. Plus, it only encourages me to get involved in political conversations with people I either don’t know, don’t care about, or will never change their mind. So why madden myself? (in my defense, these have significantly decreased in the last 12 months really for no ohter reason than to maintain my sanity, and I've only jumped in the last few days when I feel people need to be called out on their hypocrisy, like I'm self-appointed Facebook Hypocrisy Police) Point is - it's not really fun anymore. I am trying to get more regular at blogging – that way, people can seek me out if they want, rather than me inundating their home page with what I ate for breakfast.
5. Lately some of my happiest moments have been in the aisles of Costco. Not sure what that’s about, but it might have something to do with the coupling of supersizing and good deals, and the Zen-like calm it brings. Plus, few other places exist where you can literally spend an entire Saturday consuming all three meals. For free. And then leave with a sectional couch.
6. I have my team holiday party tomorrow. We got too sidetracked before the holidays, so alas - holiday cheer in January. And I am all about giving our team a break to just chill and socialize and get out from behind their computers. But I am not really looking forward to it. Why? Well, most of you don’t know this (unless you are my husband) but I have extreme social anxiety. Like, to the point I even need to take a nap during family parties because socializing truly is that exhausting for me (weird, I know – my family reading this now is probably like “huh?”). Needless to say, work parties are tough for me. My anxiety usually leads to me over-sharing during small talk (awkward for everyone), sweating profusely (hence my almost-entirely black wardrobe), and standing around aimlessly when the people I supervise suddenly realize they probably shouldn’t be discussing their personal life with their sweaty, stammering supervisor.
In the end, I usually just resign myself the supervisors table, which is akin to the grandparents table at a Sweet 16 party - there only as a courtosy/formality, but pushed into the corner, out-of-the-loop, and wondering why the music is so loud and the skirts so short.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Reset
As noted in the previous post, I decided to make a list of resolutions.
Oh I know – you are probably saying, “I NEVER make resolutions. They’re so silly!”
Well, true - and honestly I have never been one to make them, either.
But like I said in a previous post, I like the idea of a “Reset” button.
See, my list is comprised of things that I already do, I just want to do BETTER.
And frankly, I need goals.
So with that said, here they are – my life but BETTER.
My Resolutions:
1. Tell it like it is.
Fuck it. I am so sick of sugar-coating people’s self-denials and excuses. I am no longer supporting their delusions. Have a long history of not ever following through on ANYTHING, but rather digging in your bag of excuses to soften the blow of your failure? Don’t come see me, because I will call you out like a nun in Catholic school. It’s not a complete erasing of my empathy, but rather this new behavioral change will be reserved for those among us who are chronic bullshitters. I mean, someone has to say it, and I suspect the rest of the people in your life aren’t, or we wouldn’t be in the position, now would we?
2. Train better.
Speaking of being called out on denials – I’m calling myself out on this one. Yeah, I work out regularly. But I need to concentrate on doing more than just lollygagging for an hour on the bike in front of my tv. If there’s no sweat, it never happened.
Towards that end, I have become quite a fan of hill interverals on the treadmill and will start speed intervals as well. I figure since I am not doing a ton of distance stuff this season (and by distance stuff I mean full Ironman), I might as well try to quicken myself up and perhaps lose a pound or two in the process.
And like I mentioned, fear IS my greatest motivation. Sure, there’s fear of having a shitty race season or never getting better/faster/stronger – watching your race results stagnant while all your peers fly by with their Kona-bound dreams. But more importantly, there’s fear of looking like John Goodman’s more attractive-yet-just-as-fat-twin in my race photos. If I have to look at another picture of myself in my tri-suit looking like something processed in the Oscar Meyer factory, or glimpse my ass in a three-way mirror looking like I was beat with a bag of nickels, I will scream.
No mas, mi amigos. No mas.
It’s a new day.
3. Eat Better.
This anti-denial thing is becoming a theme, isn’t it?
This resolution should really read: eat less candy and cupcakes, you fatass. See, turns out that I actually eat pretty well – veggies, lean meats, fruits by the truckload.
But my reality is that these are usually sandwiched between peanut MnM’s, Spice Gum Drops, and brownies. And this has GOT to change.
I mean, there is no point working my ass off at the gym, then turning around and mowing a box of Mike n Ikes, right? What a waste. So I try to ask myself as I go for another cookie: “How many miles is this going to cost you?” Sometimes it helps, and sometimes the licorice bits win out. But sometimes is better than no times, right? And me being a lazy person, I don’t want to run any more miles than necessary, you know?
So my goal here is this – set aside crap-food craving until Sunday. If I want to still rot my face out with a super-size box of Dots, then I can have at it. But my hope is that I won’t, or that I will get to Sunday, and only be able to eat a few.
Mmmmm…Dots……
4. Be a Better Person
Okay, let me explain this. If left to myself, I would sit in my house all day, get my work done, and then just read, read, read. It’s the hermit-tendencies in me, I admit. And I think my mom would tell you that I have always been that way – I like to be by myself.
But it doesn’t work really well when you have family, friends, and a husband all demanding attention.
So rather than give in to my own self desires of solitary confinement (I love you Andy Dufraine), I will make a better effort at getting out, participating in life, and sharing my time with others. You know - get busy living (there you are again, Andy!)
And like it.
That said, under this resolution is the promise to give back – Cheese and I have talked about this a bit already. See, in high school, I was all about community service – perhaps it was Jesuit upbringing – but I did just about everything, including a out-of-state trip to rural Kentucky to build houses.
But as an adult, like a lot of stuff, community service just fell by the wayside – what with my busy schedule of Facebook stalking, Biggest Loser-watching, movie attending, and general life observing/bitching.
Now granted, I give a lot of money (“a lot” being relative to my income and the Joe Biden) to various causes and charities. But I have been a bit more selfish with my time, and that’s not cool.
So in becoming a better person, I will actively give back my time to a valuable cause. It’s about darn time.
5. Be a more patient person.
Wow, did this little flaw bubble to the surface this year. Now, to be fair, most people say that they don’t see this side of me, but I know it’s there and it bothers me. See, I always sort of border on the fence between “good psychologist” and “bat-shit-rip-your-head-off-type-crazy” on any given day. But I really noticed I has taken a sharp dive to the latter side of the yard this year, particularly as work started to pile up. The more cases we got, the more cases I began to take on, and the more families I had to see face-to-face.
And let me tell you – nothing boils my blood more than a selfish, dysfunctional parent who justifies child abuse by their own hands, or exposing their child to daily domestic violence because they don’t think the kids actually sees it.
Some days, it’s all I can do not to haul off and punch these people in their smug-ass faces. I know - not good for a psychologist to say. But it’s one thing to neutrally assess, analyze and treat this dysfunction (which I do very well, thankyouverymuch), and a whole ‘nother to be a human being with feelings and empathy for the kids.
So my vow is to really try to improve this patience thing by any means possible. I have no plan, and might just have to wing it.
I know – good luck, right?
So that about sums up my personal goals for this year. Basic, and nothing to obscenely hard, like climb Mt. Everest – which, BTW, I would NEVER do because I effing hate this cold weather.
And “try new things” didn’t make the list this year anyways.
But perhaps, if reminded, I will do a mid-year check to see my progress.
Here’s to hoping there is some.
Oh I know – you are probably saying, “I NEVER make resolutions. They’re so silly!”
Well, true - and honestly I have never been one to make them, either.
But like I said in a previous post, I like the idea of a “Reset” button.
See, my list is comprised of things that I already do, I just want to do BETTER.
And frankly, I need goals.
So with that said, here they are – my life but BETTER.
My Resolutions:
1. Tell it like it is.
Fuck it. I am so sick of sugar-coating people’s self-denials and excuses. I am no longer supporting their delusions. Have a long history of not ever following through on ANYTHING, but rather digging in your bag of excuses to soften the blow of your failure? Don’t come see me, because I will call you out like a nun in Catholic school. It’s not a complete erasing of my empathy, but rather this new behavioral change will be reserved for those among us who are chronic bullshitters. I mean, someone has to say it, and I suspect the rest of the people in your life aren’t, or we wouldn’t be in the position, now would we?
2. Train better.
Speaking of being called out on denials – I’m calling myself out on this one. Yeah, I work out regularly. But I need to concentrate on doing more than just lollygagging for an hour on the bike in front of my tv. If there’s no sweat, it never happened.
Towards that end, I have become quite a fan of hill interverals on the treadmill and will start speed intervals as well. I figure since I am not doing a ton of distance stuff this season (and by distance stuff I mean full Ironman), I might as well try to quicken myself up and perhaps lose a pound or two in the process.
And like I mentioned, fear IS my greatest motivation. Sure, there’s fear of having a shitty race season or never getting better/faster/stronger – watching your race results stagnant while all your peers fly by with their Kona-bound dreams. But more importantly, there’s fear of looking like John Goodman’s more attractive-yet-just-as-fat-twin in my race photos. If I have to look at another picture of myself in my tri-suit looking like something processed in the Oscar Meyer factory, or glimpse my ass in a three-way mirror looking like I was beat with a bag of nickels, I will scream.
No mas, mi amigos. No mas.
It’s a new day.
3. Eat Better.
This anti-denial thing is becoming a theme, isn’t it?
This resolution should really read: eat less candy and cupcakes, you fatass. See, turns out that I actually eat pretty well – veggies, lean meats, fruits by the truckload.
But my reality is that these are usually sandwiched between peanut MnM’s, Spice Gum Drops, and brownies. And this has GOT to change.
I mean, there is no point working my ass off at the gym, then turning around and mowing a box of Mike n Ikes, right? What a waste. So I try to ask myself as I go for another cookie: “How many miles is this going to cost you?” Sometimes it helps, and sometimes the licorice bits win out. But sometimes is better than no times, right? And me being a lazy person, I don’t want to run any more miles than necessary, you know?
So my goal here is this – set aside crap-food craving until Sunday. If I want to still rot my face out with a super-size box of Dots, then I can have at it. But my hope is that I won’t, or that I will get to Sunday, and only be able to eat a few.
Mmmmm…Dots……
4. Be a Better Person
Okay, let me explain this. If left to myself, I would sit in my house all day, get my work done, and then just read, read, read. It’s the hermit-tendencies in me, I admit. And I think my mom would tell you that I have always been that way – I like to be by myself.
But it doesn’t work really well when you have family, friends, and a husband all demanding attention.
So rather than give in to my own self desires of solitary confinement (I love you Andy Dufraine), I will make a better effort at getting out, participating in life, and sharing my time with others. You know - get busy living (there you are again, Andy!)
And like it.
That said, under this resolution is the promise to give back – Cheese and I have talked about this a bit already. See, in high school, I was all about community service – perhaps it was Jesuit upbringing – but I did just about everything, including a out-of-state trip to rural Kentucky to build houses.
But as an adult, like a lot of stuff, community service just fell by the wayside – what with my busy schedule of Facebook stalking, Biggest Loser-watching, movie attending, and general life observing/bitching.
Now granted, I give a lot of money (“a lot” being relative to my income and the Joe Biden) to various causes and charities. But I have been a bit more selfish with my time, and that’s not cool.
So in becoming a better person, I will actively give back my time to a valuable cause. It’s about darn time.
5. Be a more patient person.
Wow, did this little flaw bubble to the surface this year. Now, to be fair, most people say that they don’t see this side of me, but I know it’s there and it bothers me. See, I always sort of border on the fence between “good psychologist” and “bat-shit-rip-your-head-off-type-crazy” on any given day. But I really noticed I has taken a sharp dive to the latter side of the yard this year, particularly as work started to pile up. The more cases we got, the more cases I began to take on, and the more families I had to see face-to-face.
And let me tell you – nothing boils my blood more than a selfish, dysfunctional parent who justifies child abuse by their own hands, or exposing their child to daily domestic violence because they don’t think the kids actually sees it.
Some days, it’s all I can do not to haul off and punch these people in their smug-ass faces. I know - not good for a psychologist to say. But it’s one thing to neutrally assess, analyze and treat this dysfunction (which I do very well, thankyouverymuch), and a whole ‘nother to be a human being with feelings and empathy for the kids.
So my vow is to really try to improve this patience thing by any means possible. I have no plan, and might just have to wing it.
I know – good luck, right?
So that about sums up my personal goals for this year. Basic, and nothing to obscenely hard, like climb Mt. Everest – which, BTW, I would NEVER do because I effing hate this cold weather.
And “try new things” didn’t make the list this year anyways.
But perhaps, if reminded, I will do a mid-year check to see my progress.
Here’s to hoping there is some.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Hello Old Friend
In honor of the new year 2010, I decided to break from my usually Facebook stalking and write a sinkin’ post.
No way does it have anything to do with the barrage of emails and texts from family members wondering about the lack of posting.
Nothing at all.
Or you, Angie F.
Naw, I kid, I kid – I need a little accountability when it comes to this thing nowadays, and I appreciate the "where in the world are you?" check-ins.
It's just that most of the time, I just don’t feel I have a ton to say anymore.
Well, at least not race/training wise - I'm fat and out of shape. That sums it up.
However, in regards to all stuff local/world/political, I usually have a mindful of stuff, espeically with the nonstop news/reading of the last few months.
But given the firestorm of last year, I haven't quite recovered from bashing and hence am keeping most of my thoughts in that regard to after-dinner conversations.
Interestingly, taking those topics off the table for this blog has been a hard decision to make too - after all, this is my blog, I should be able to say anything I want, no?
But there's too much emotion involved on both sides, and my thoughts were being massively misinterpreted all the time. I just got tired of having to justify my opinion, and later read comments by other people about me on other sites (yeah, I read those)that it just wasn't worth the anger and frustration.
Wait, hang on – I gotta poop.
Hey, it’s early morning (for me) and the coffee’s kicking in – give me a break.
…………..
……*flush*……..
Okay, I’m back.
Where was I?
Poop.
Right.
Quick relate side note here - I’ve developed this new (to me) habit of the bathroom.
I read in there now.
I know it’s not that weird because a lot of people do, but for me it is.
See, as someone who drinks a ton of water and already spends an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, I never quite understood the willful spending of additional minutes browsing some random magazine while trying to pinch one off.
I am generally a wait-til-the-very-last-second-it-falls-out-then-sprint-to-the-bathroom-and-drop-it-flush-wash-and-leave kinda gal.
But two things happened over the holidays to change all of this:
1. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I had at least four airplane trips, and hence lots of constipation, thus requiring me to spend extra time in the loo working for the pay-off.
2. I found both a Runner’s World and a Triathlete magazine I got at least two months back that I must have (gasp!) thrown into my nightstand reading pile and forgot about. Seeing as how the absolutely MUST get read, I decided I would pass my excruciating painful waste of minutes crapping by reading them.
And voila! A new habit is born.
So bowel movements aside, let’s give a run down of the last month since my absence:
.
.
.
Umm..
.
.
Work…..
.
.
Cheese’s recovering…
.
.
Two Christmas’s in Kansas…….
.
.
.
Yup, that about sums it up.
Can you see why I haven’t posted?
Basically between work, Cheese's arm, more work, and the holidays, I haven’t really had a ton to say. Life just…is.
Once I get my act together I am going to come up with a list of resolutions, though.
I used to not make any, and really I still don’t, but this year for some reason, I really like the idea of the “Reset” button. It’s been a good year in many respects (what with getting married and all), but I have also let some things slide, so I like the idea of kick starting some newer/better habits, you know?
So sit tight, and I promise I will power off that list in the next 24 hours.
And most likely from the bathroom.
No way does it have anything to do with the barrage of emails and texts from family members wondering about the lack of posting.
Nothing at all.
Or you, Angie F.
Naw, I kid, I kid – I need a little accountability when it comes to this thing nowadays, and I appreciate the "where in the world are you?" check-ins.
It's just that most of the time, I just don’t feel I have a ton to say anymore.
Well, at least not race/training wise - I'm fat and out of shape. That sums it up.
However, in regards to all stuff local/world/political, I usually have a mindful of stuff, espeically with the nonstop news/reading of the last few months.
But given the firestorm of last year, I haven't quite recovered from bashing and hence am keeping most of my thoughts in that regard to after-dinner conversations.
Interestingly, taking those topics off the table for this blog has been a hard decision to make too - after all, this is my blog, I should be able to say anything I want, no?
But there's too much emotion involved on both sides, and my thoughts were being massively misinterpreted all the time. I just got tired of having to justify my opinion, and later read comments by other people about me on other sites (yeah, I read those)that it just wasn't worth the anger and frustration.
Wait, hang on – I gotta poop.
Hey, it’s early morning (for me) and the coffee’s kicking in – give me a break.
…………..
……*flush*……..
Okay, I’m back.
Where was I?
Poop.
Right.
Quick relate side note here - I’ve developed this new (to me) habit of the bathroom.
I read in there now.
I know it’s not that weird because a lot of people do, but for me it is.
See, as someone who drinks a ton of water and already spends an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, I never quite understood the willful spending of additional minutes browsing some random magazine while trying to pinch one off.
I am generally a wait-til-the-very-last-second-it-falls-out-then-sprint-to-the-bathroom-and-drop-it-flush-wash-and-leave kinda gal.
But two things happened over the holidays to change all of this:
1. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I had at least four airplane trips, and hence lots of constipation, thus requiring me to spend extra time in the loo working for the pay-off.
2. I found both a Runner’s World and a Triathlete magazine I got at least two months back that I must have (gasp!) thrown into my nightstand reading pile and forgot about. Seeing as how the absolutely MUST get read, I decided I would pass my excruciating painful waste of minutes crapping by reading them.
And voila! A new habit is born.
So bowel movements aside, let’s give a run down of the last month since my absence:
.
.
.
Umm..
.
.
Work…..
.
.
Cheese’s recovering…
.
.
Two Christmas’s in Kansas…….
.
.
.
Yup, that about sums it up.
Can you see why I haven’t posted?
Basically between work, Cheese's arm, more work, and the holidays, I haven’t really had a ton to say. Life just…is.
Once I get my act together I am going to come up with a list of resolutions, though.
I used to not make any, and really I still don’t, but this year for some reason, I really like the idea of the “Reset” button. It’s been a good year in many respects (what with getting married and all), but I have also let some things slide, so I like the idea of kick starting some newer/better habits, you know?
So sit tight, and I promise I will power off that list in the next 24 hours.
And most likely from the bathroom.
Monday, May 4, 2009
My Facebook Status Update Rejects
Megan:
-Wishes people would stop making it so easy for me to dislike them.
-Continues to be surprised that the “cool kids” from high school didn’t age well. So that’s what coke bloat looks like….
-Thinks it's funny that you have no hair left. Yes you, Brendan.
-Thinks some babies look weird. Is that mean?
-Hates interviewing parents in jail, but is secretly fascinated by jail culture.
-Should have known better than to wear a sundress to jail for said interview.
-Wonders if she should put up her wedding picture as her profile pic too, just like everyone else.
-Thinks, “If only she knew then what she knows now.”
-Really wants to say eff it to this FB thing, but can’t break free from my addiction to other people’s pictures.
-Smelled like a goat today.
-Wants to punch bad parents in the head. Clearly, it's been one of those days.
-Rants about people looking for a quick fix to their weight problems, but would probably use it if one came along.
-Hates how dirty I feel at the end of the day.
-Appreciates travel reimbursment.
-Just farted.
-Shut down her Twitter account, mere weeks after she opened it. Because sometimes, enough is simply enough.
-Had to look away laughing when her nephew was crying yesterday. Not because I thought his frustration was funny, but because the face that accompanied his oppositional tantrum was hysterical.
-Just read over this list, and realized she will most definitely be a shitty parent.
-Wishes people would stop making it so easy for me to dislike them.
-Continues to be surprised that the “cool kids” from high school didn’t age well. So that’s what coke bloat looks like….
-Thinks it's funny that you have no hair left. Yes you, Brendan.
-Thinks some babies look weird. Is that mean?
-Hates interviewing parents in jail, but is secretly fascinated by jail culture.
-Should have known better than to wear a sundress to jail for said interview.
-Wonders if she should put up her wedding picture as her profile pic too, just like everyone else.
-Thinks, “If only she knew then what she knows now.”
-Really wants to say eff it to this FB thing, but can’t break free from my addiction to other people’s pictures.
-Smelled like a goat today.
-Wants to punch bad parents in the head. Clearly, it's been one of those days.
-Rants about people looking for a quick fix to their weight problems, but would probably use it if one came along.
-Hates how dirty I feel at the end of the day.
-Appreciates travel reimbursment.
-Just farted.
-Shut down her Twitter account, mere weeks after she opened it. Because sometimes, enough is simply enough.
-Had to look away laughing when her nephew was crying yesterday. Not because I thought his frustration was funny, but because the face that accompanied his oppositional tantrum was hysterical.
-Just read over this list, and realized she will most definitely be a shitty parent.
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