List

My to-do list is so long. And I don't want to do any of it.

When did I become despondent and lazy? I mean, I don't remember always being this way. I don't know. I'm just....pissy.

I'm having a hard time seeing the point in a lot of stuff. I mean, why clean the house if it's just going to be trashed again in 4 minutes and no one will help you?

All the boys do is play video games. And sleep. And make messes. Well, if left to their own devices, anyway.

I'm just tired.

Tired of feeling like a piece of shit.

On Weight, and Wait, and....

So. I've lost 6 pounds. Meh. I wish that attempting to lose weight wasn't so time consuming. I'm sure most of that is coming off the easterly trip--we ate so much salt, so much crap--it balloons you and then when you quit it deflates. Plus I finished my period (Welcome, TMI seekers!) and that always makes me lose like, 4 pounds. So I've actually lost 2. Ish.

Idk. Like, you'd think that if you could drop like, 10 pounds right off it would be good motivation to stick with it. Instead, you lose a pound here, a pound there, feel like total ass, tired, angry about having to drink so much water, your ass hurts from working out, you want to sit down and eat ice cream (or whatever) but you get to have--whee!--a banana or something. I know that losing too much weight too fast will pretty much guarantee you'll gain it back, but really? Really.

I'm not trying to deprive myself, I'm eating when I'm hungry and all that, I'm just watching portions and what goes inside my mouth. And getting exercise. I don't love it.

On more exciting news, I totally kicked T's ass while working out last night. That made me feel a little better about progress--being that we were on an even out-of-shape keel a week ago. It's something.

I need to go for a run, now. I hate it, hate it, hate it. HATE IT. But it works, so, well, there you go.

I'm over it. I looked at the wedding pictures again and it's just....shameful. Shameful, how I couldn't find it inside myself to try and look decent for one goddamn day. I'm so embarrassed that for the rest of my life I get to look at the pictures from one of the best days, most momentous days of my life and see me, as a whale. Awesome.

I suppose that's motivation. Seeing what I really look like, what a walking disaster I am, stop deluding myself into thinking I look like anything close to decent.

Bowie

I love David Bowie. Like, it's almost not ok. I want him to come to my house and talk to me while I mop the floors or something. We can go yarn shopping together. He could record my answering machine message and I would make him dinner. He could help T winterize the garden. Work on the Jeep.

Ok, enough weird fantasies for one blog entry.

You know what's funny? Forcing people to back pedal. It's awesome.

I need to work out again today. Yesterday was 'light duty' day, so we only went running and did an assload of crunches. It's super windy right now, so I don't know if I'm going running today. Maybe I'll run the vacuum with extra gusto.

T hung shelves in our guest room, and they're super awesome. As soon as he was done, I went in and covered them in photos and stuff, took a step back, and disappeared into our bedroom. Came out, put the 'finishing touch' on the shelf, and was happy. What was the finishing touch? A stuffed zombie. He's a plush toy--His body comes apart, he has a brain in his hand, it's SO COOL. (We sort of collect zombie stuff. Ask me about my new stand mixer sometime.) Hey, I gotta keep it real, right? Can't have too much class in one spot--it's our house we're talking about here. Maybe I'll take pics and post them. Hell, maybe I'll do that now.





So those are totally in backwards order. Whatever.

Losing Faith

Maine? Really? REALLY?

More often than I would like to admit, I feel ignorant. No, for real. The situation in Maine? I honestly didn't think that it would go down like that. I was seriously all, like, "We've come so far as a nation, things are changing now, this won't be a problem!" and then I look at the results and I'm totally fucking shocked. SERIOUSLY?? I feel totally ignorant for not even giving failure a second thought.

When I hear about shit like this, it makes me lose faith in the human race.

Look at what happened in WA. Washington is a BLUE STATE. (Well, mostly because Seattle and Western WA are blue, and more densely populated than Eastern WA--whatever.) Washington is a blue state, (always, pretty much) and 71 only passed by 1.9% or something amazing like that.

It sickens me. Seriously. Sickens me that we are still in a place where it can be 'wrong' to love someone.

I just wrote a fucking book about this. I read back over it--I'm being too emotional. You can't make good, well thought out, eloquent points when you're screaming inside. Maybe more later.

Fish

We're having fish tacos for dinner.

I'm ready for my head to stop hurting. I'm dealing with angry back muscles which is causing me to have the tension headaches. Bangin.

Whatever. I'm sleepy. Lazy. I've been working out and it makes my body mad. I know that I should be cleaning or something, but I just want to lay in bed and make T keep me warm with his nuclear heated body. (He hates that.)

Our carpet needs to be vacuumed. It looks like a Jackson Pollack painting.

Annnnyway. Nap time.

Ugh

I have a lot of chores to do today. I don't want to.

Going for a run actually sounds more appealing. That should tell you something.

My throat feels weird. Like, my ear is clicking for no reason like there's fluid involved, and that tonsil feels like there's a hard something stuck in it. This is also the ear that has the super thick eardrum, since I exploded my ear drums as a baby when my mom took me on a flight to Tennessee. I water-pik-ed it, now it just feels coated and weird. Whaaaatever.

So I'm working out. And I didn't die. Like, the last time I did this particular work out, T had a super amazing asthma attack and I nearly vomited. No near vomiting this time.

Good side effect--I don't want to smoke. I had forgotten! Exercise=My body says "fuck that shit!" to smoking. WHY DIDN'T I REMEMBER THIS SOONER! I got in the shower with T (save water!) and had the super awesome "sense of smell from when I quit smoking", which is to say, normal, everyday smells that wouldn't bother me at all become totally caustic. T's soap seriously made me like, gag and my eyes water and I literally shoved T out of the way, doused my hair, leapt from the shower, flinging doors and windows open to try and air out the joint.

T stood there in the shower, water running, curtain akimbo, shivering in the new found arctic breeze I had created. "Honey? You're not....Pregnant, are you?"

"NO! It's your soap! It smells like chemicals!"

Thus ensued a long talk about smell and smoking and how there is really no way I'm pregnant right now, thanks.

So I suppose now I'll do my dishes or something. Sigh.

The 1st

It's the first of November. Huzzah, or something.

T and I have decided to go head to head in a "Biggest Loser" competition that I am doomed to lose, but I'm doing it anyway. After our trip eastward, we came back and our pants didn't fit. We weighed ourselves. There was some swearing.

So I came up with the idea--Whoever loses the most weight between now and the first of the year (awesome timing. Holidays, etc) gets to pick what we do for our birthday. He wants to go to Vegas, I want to do...something. Idk, go to Vegas too. But whatever, whoever wins calls the shots on the trip.

T can lose weight like nobodys business. I, however, can pack it on like no tomorrow. Seriously. He changes 1 thing in his diet, and whammo--he's 2 pants sizes smaller. Meanwhile, I'm working out, eating no sugar, drinking gallons of water, watching carb intake etc, and I lose 2 pounds and am angry all the time. The only time I have had success losing weight was when I stopped eating. Like, seriously. When I was working night shift pastry, I didn't eat, really. Slept through the eating hours, would eat one small thing, and then go bust my ass at work. Weight just fell off me (like, 30 pounds) and it was easy! I wasn't hungry! Hooray!

But then I went back to being a human and the weight piled on like the Griswolds into a station wagon.

Whatever. We need to eat better anyway. I'm sure that part of the reason we got porky out east is all the freaking crap we ate while we were there--the salt, the processed food, the sweets, the SALT.

Mostly, I'm just tired of hating myself. Hating my body. I have seriously tried EVERYTHING (diets, exercise, cardio, weights, on and on and on) with reasonably small success. It's discouraging. I'm not asking to weigh 110 pounds again, but I would like to not be embarrassed for my husband to see me naked.

Whatever.

Also: Time to quit smoking. Time to quit smoking! I may as well punish myself on all fronts. The last time I quit I gained a shitload of weight, so I may as well do it while I'm on the super awesome diet/exercise regimen. And lose no weight. (But at least not gain any.)

Yeah. Done smoking, I think. (I think. I've said this before.) Please don't preach at me, kids, I know that it's disgusting and will kill me and all that. So is being a fat ass.

I guess now that I don't have a job to worry about, I have the time to dedicate to not slowly killing myself in 9 different ways. Not like I have anything better to do.

I mean, if I'm not contributing to society in any way, I may as well look ok doing it.

(I played the bass clarinet, Brian.)