Guess Who’s Back in the House!

1 10 2014

Well, I have been AWOL for a while, haven’t I? Lots happening.

(Technically AWOL means Absent Without Leave, but this is my blog, so who am supposed to ask for leave? Myself? Should I submit a request in writing?)

Anyway, today I came to talk about weight loss, via my own viewpoint.

I admit it. I got stuck. I lost forty pounds of the sixty four I wanted to and then-Cue tire screech. I don’t know if I was tired or frustrated or bored, but nothing was working.

So then I gave up. NOM NOM NOM FOOD.

I hate French fries because I love them. I avoided not excellent fries but damn, fresh cut fries with a hint of salt and ketchup. Awwwwwww yeah.

Fro-yo needs to stop pretending that it’s healthy. When half of the toppings in the topping bar are candy, STOP PRETENDING that you are anything but somewhat lower calorie ice cream. And you can get as much as you want. Ice cream is actually safer sometimes, at least with ice cream you get a set amount and you pay for it and you leave. Fro-yo is all OH HERE IS A CUP THAT WE PRETEND IS SMALL BUT FILL IT UP WITH TONS OF FROZEN YOGURT AND FRUIT AND RASPBERRY CHOCOLATE AND STRAWBERRY TAPIOCA PEARL THINGS AND THEN YOU HAVE OUNCES UPON OUNCES OF DELICIOUS COLD CALORIES. OF HEALTH LIES.

(Also, black sesame ice cream? SCREW YOU, YOU BASTARD I love you, call me xxx.)

Then, of course, the Frappuccino. Now, I get Mocha Light Frappuccinos. Skinny mocha sauce, non fat milk, the whole she-bang. But. But. What comes out of my mouth is ‘Venti skinny mocha Frappuccino. With whip. And two pumps of raspberry.’ The result? Twenty four ounces of icy chocolate pseudo coffee goodness topped with a crown of whipped cream and oh god it’s good but it’s so bad. It’s like wearing a conservative outfit buttoned up to the chin but then you’ve got a corset and lace semi see through crotch-less panties underneath and no one knows. Get on with your bad self.

So. Yeah. I, plus seven new pounds (grumble pudgy face), am trying to get back on track.

I am tracking on Weight Watchers and on My Fitness Pal (with custom goals), and holy hell am I all over the place.

One: I eat sooooo many carbs. My proportions are about 70% carbs to 13% fat to 17% protein. It’s a little ridiculous. I gotta give up the waffles. Breakfast should have protein! Maybe I’ll do a smoothie and eggs. Something.

Two: Night time? OMG I WANT CHIPS. ICE CREAM. HONEYCOMB CEREAL! At the moment I’m munching on the occasional apple and drinking tea. I also need to start doing origami again. Keeps your hands busy. I made a bird! And a little box. But man, cranes are hard.

Three: Man, I keep eating my feelings. Happy? TIME FOR ICE CREAM! Sad? *sob into food* Angry? Booze and chips! Bored: …whatever.

I should just use my elliptical more. It’s just so easy not to!

But, starting next week, there are going to be fitness classes in my life. (High intensity core, yoga and/or Zumba!) So I think that will help.

I just have to fit in exercise in between classes, studying, homework, writing, cooking, dog, boyfriend (I love you magpie!) and whatever else happens to fall on my head. Whatever. It’s past midnight, I’m supposed to be sleeping. And in the morning? I’m not making waffles!

I’m making ginger cookies instead.

Oh boy.





How Long is the Honeymoon Period, anyway?

31 12 2013

I’m at work, so I guess technically I’m not supposed to be blogging, but a. Nothing is going on except for the occasional phone call and client coming in, b. no one is watching me, and c. it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m bored.

So whatever.

I think I have a cold, which means it’s probably advisable not to get super drunk tonight? Right? Anyone?

Nah. Totally drinking anyway. Also possibly getting cake. ‘Cause it wasn’t just my birthday or anything and I didn’t eat…about half the cake? No, it wasn’t half the cake. I mean, Magpie (my boyfriend, so nicknamed because of his propensity to spot and pick up shiny things on the ground) had some, Mom had some, and two others had some, so…maybe I ate a third of the cake over…four days? (Guess what my New Year’s Resolution is? Back on Weight Watchers!)

Cake cake cake cake cake. Seriously, if anyone’s ever in New York City- (Is this the first time I’ve actually mentioned where I am? No one come look for me! Tee hee. Actually, if I ever met anyone who read this blog I’d probably be all OMG let’s be friends and want to swap e-mails.)

Anyway, if anyone’s in New York City, go to Sal’s and…is it Dino?’s Crap, I don’t remember and I can’t check Yelp on my-oh, never mind, I can. (I’ve been surfing the net for the last fifteen minutes or so. I am easily distracted. Especially by Cake Wrecks.) Anyway, it’s Sal’s and Dom’s. Best red velvet cake I’ve had. So. Good. OMG. It’s in the Bronx and around the holidays it’s a madhouse but OMG CAKE. EAT IT.

Ahem. I love cake. That is all.

I really do have to work out more, my stamina is crap. It probably doesn’t help that I stopped working out after I got the stomach flu, which wiped me out even after I stopped throwing up. Nausea plus dizziness plus exhaustion equals J.J. curled up in front of Netflix and eating sour candies and drinking ginger ale and not moving.

I have really started baking. For the holidays I made gingerbread cookies, brownies for Magpie’s parents, sugar cookies for a holiday party, and now I want to learn to make bread, so I’m doing what I always do and going online to read tutorials. …I supposed I will have to buy a loaf pan. I mean, I think I have one, but a. I have no idea where it is or what shape it’s in, b. I really don’t feel like ransacking my entire kitchen to find it, and c. I seem to end up needing two for this recipe I found. So two new loaf pans it is.

I also need to practice piping icing, ’cause holy hell it is harder than it looks. You think you just squeeze the bag, the icing comes out in a neat little line, and you paint smiles on your gingerbread people/decorations on your cake. No! You have to squeeze the bag with both hands, and keep it steady or it looks like you’re trying to make dashes instead of lines, and the icing has to be fresh and if you squeeze too hard you just make a mess and if you squeeze too lightly nothing happens or the icing comes out in these dots that look like white bunny poop. Man, this sudden desire to be Betty Crocker is difficult.

It’s so quiet. I think I’ll play some music. *goes to Pandora* Ooh, Rent. Light My Candle is pretty depressing, really. ‘Hey, my girlfriend died/I do drugs and I’m a S&M dancer/I think I like you/Me too/Our lives aren’t that great.’

Oh, I got my first rejection! A few weeks ago, from the student literary magazine. I was almost expecting it, because I rushed my submission, but I still hoped. But no. I was apparently trying to be Lolita, cliché, and lacking editing skills. Ouch. I guess I’d better step it up, or get into a new gig, no? It’s a little humbling, when I thought I could just go on in, but I guess writing really is like everything else, in which you have to practice.

Holy cheese, 700 words and I just now get to the topic mentioned in the title of the post.

How long is the honeymoon period? After lengthy research (by which I mean whatever sites I could get to from Google that aren’t blocked at work), it seems to be anywhere from a few months to two years after marriage. So, what, I’m going to be happy to see Magpie for…well, I don’t think we’re getting married anytime soon, but we’ve survived my mood swings, my stomach flu, his issues, my issues, small arguments, and the fact that we both live with our parents, and it’s only been six months-ish. So, is our honeymoon period over? How are you supposed to know? And I’ve seen people together twenty years who act like they’re still mad about each other and people who break up a few months in, so how does that work?

I think this is typical me. ‘I’m happy with something. WHAT’S GOING TO GO WRONG?’

You know what? I’m just going to go with it. I’m happy. I’m not going to try to dissect it for once. If our biggest issue that he doesn’t like that I eat pork (he doesn’t on the grounds that pigs are smart and that chicken and fish are stupid and therefore okay to eat) and I get annoyed that he tries to do high kicks on the subway platform and people stare, I think we’re fine.  (I’m considering maybe giving up pork. Maybe. I like pork. If he promises not to do high kicks on the subway ’cause it’s embarrassing and I worry that he’ll accidentally kick someone and then we become the people who get into a fight on the subway.)

I think I might buy him some pants next paycheck. He needs new pants that don’t look like they’re made to do construction in. He doesn’t really dress up ever ’cause he’s that type. But he looks so good in a button down! /stupid girlfriend whining

I try not to be the ‘omg change your clothes fix your hair what are those shoes’ girlfriend, I really do, but it’s like, ‘Babe, you dress like you’re in high school, stop it.’ Oh well, it doesn’t seem to bother him much. He’s pretty unflappable. Unless I make him watch Project Runway, which he doesn’t like. Probably because it’s about drama and clothes, two things he doesn’t care about. But he says I’m a good girlfriend, so I will try to stay that way. Also we have excellent cuddles and he’s emotionally supportive and- *stops before she goes on and on about how awesome the BF is*

Quick really shameful shallow note: I sometimes wish he were hotter. I mean, I’m attracted to him, and he’s not ugly by any means. But I think my urge to dress him up is a shallow need to have other people think he’s attractive and think that I have an ugly boyfriend. But that’s treating him like a status symbol, and he’s a person, and a good person at that, so I’m trying to get over it. I’m no model anyway. (I’m pretty, but that’s totally different.) Well, actually, a lot of models aren’t that pretty, if we’re talking about conventionally pretty. They’re too tall and angular and such. Whatever. My point is that I love him, but I am apparently shallow enough to wish that he would not dress and cut his hair like a high schooler! I’m going to get stopped one day by a cop who thinks I’ve got a boy-toy!

Okay, this post is getting long, so I’m going to stop now. Happy New Year, everyone!

Sincerely yours,

J.J





Starbucks Is Eating All My Money

23 06 2013

I have a Frappuccino addiction, and with someone at my income level it is devastating. I have very little money, and when I get money, do I save it? Nope. I justify that whatever piddly amount I have isn’t worth putting towards my student loans or savings and spend it like I have thousands just waiting to be spent. It’s not like I have rent or bills or anything, so who cares, goes the mentality. Oddly enough, once I have a steady paycheck, I’ll probably be a lot better with money and budgeting.

Also, any of the Light Frappuccinos at Starbucks don’t automatically come with Skinny syrup. They are made with skim milk and I think the base is different, but the syrup isn’t, you have to ask for that separately. It doesn’t change the price, but you would think that the low calorie version would have sugar free syrup, or at least the versions that  would use the sugar free syrups that they already carry. Yes? No?

Other things I hate about Starbucks:

1. Baristas who get pissed when you tell them they messed up your drink. I’ve done that job, I know once a drink is done you want to forget about it. But I never got an attitude about it.

2. People who don’t know what they want. ‘I want something with chocolate. No, I don’t know what it’s called. I WANT CHOCOLATE.’

3. The ‘real’ Starbucks are inconsistent as hell when they make my Frappuccinos. Too thick, ice chunks, funny taste. I have a favorite barista in the frickin’ Barnes and Noble Starbucks. She makes it perfectly. I need her to make a tutorial or something.

Now there is a break, because I had to take a Benedryl and I’m too sleepy to type properly.

THE NEXT DAY

Bobbi Brown wrote this makeup manual, and the girly part of me that doesn’t care about practicality or sense or anything that isn’t soft and pink and glittery is all OMG I MUST HAVE ALL OF THESE PRODUCTS WHEE. The rest of me is all ‘…who the hell has the time or money or inclination to buy and use of these things? There’s twenty different brushes and sponges and what?’ Maybe I’m just bitter because I can never find a makeup that covers but doesn’t give me zits and doesn’t feel like thin cake batter on my face. …or maybe I don’t want to spend twenty minutes every day fixing my face and blending foundation and penciling my eyebrows.

…maybe I should get a makeup consultation or something. Or read the rest of the book. When I have money to buy it and take it home and put different things on my face.

Okay, now I’m going to talk about Active Link, Weight Watcher’s activity tracker thingy. I am now obsessed with it. I feel badly about myself if I don’t get 100% activity goal every day. It’ll be ten thirty at night and I’m doing jumping jacks like a mad woman going ‘I’M ONLY 98%, I HAVE TO MAKE 100% ARGH I AM OBSESSED.

No, really, I keep poking the jiggly areas of my body in frustration and then I go into plank. And then I eat baby carrots and pita chips and hummus. Mmm. So crunchy.

And I really really really want to like yogurt. And I don’t unless it’s really sweetened, which totally defeats the purpose of yogurt. So I want a smoothie, but then it tastes too much like yogurt and I don’t like it unless I put Crystal Light in it and ARGH HEALTHY FILLING EATING IS HARD. Sometimes I just want a cheeseburger with bacon and fries. And a milkshake. A chocolate milkshake. Sigh.

But I’m having a turkey burger with grilled potatoes, possibly with steamed broccoli. And that’s pretty good too.

Sincerely yours,

J.J





Restless

22 04 2013

 

That’s basically how I am now.

I don’t want to be home, but I don’t want to be out, because I don’t really have anywhere to be, and I’d rather be home doing nothing or writing than be out wandering. I have to be in a certain mood to wander. It’s not like I’m in a new city or country, where wandering will always lead to something different. Here, I have paths that I have walked, and the part of me is nervous and scared of anything unfamiliar doesn’t like to be forced off the path without a specific destination.

So I’m going to try a new thing, starting this week sometime. I think I will pick a destination, and head for it, and explore that way. Once I’m out, it’s much harder to run and hide, and the part of me that loves new things will be too busy looking around to let the scared part protest. Once the weather is a little warmer, I will return to the cupcake shop again, and wander the area around there. (I can’t afford most of the area around it, but it’s fun to window shop. Plus, there’s a tea cafe around there, and I want to go back to it. I went there on a date once, I haven’t been back since, and it would be nice to go again.)

I’m also thinking about going back to my support group. I feel like sometimes I need something that’s not therapy, but I can just…talk and be with people who get it. And I think it’ll help me develop my empathy more, listening to others and not getting irritated by their expression of emotion.

On another note-I’ve lost forty-five pounds! Holy crap, right? I started out at 198 pounds, and now I’m at 153! Now, the top end of my healthy weight range is 141 pounds, and I don’t want to be right at the top. Also, to be a Lifetime Member of Weight Watchers I have to stay within 2 pounds of my goal weight. (Well, two pounds above, I can go below if I wish.) So I’m going for 138, which is fifteen pounds down. I bet I can do it. I mean, the last ten pounds are apparently the hardest, but I’m going to do it.

I’ll probably have to work on my fitness ADD. Apparently I hate workouts that feel like workouts as well- I’ll do high knees and butt kicks while I jog with the dog, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten through a workout DVD. (I like the Wii Fit, but the Wii’s disk drive can’t read the disk anymore, so I can’t do it. I am crushed.)

(Those of you who want to lose weight and have a dog, take the dog for more walks. It helps and the dog will be happy.)

Tomorrow, however, I’m going to make cupcakes for my ceramics class. It’s an expression for my love of baking and my affection for the members of my class. (Except for irritating Hobble Husband. I call him that because he hurt himself being an idiot and is on crutches, and also he is a pitiful excuse for a husband to his wife. No job, thinks too much of himself, expects her to constantly accommodate him, and has the shallow charisma that appeals to people but conceals his flaws. Gag me. I hate men like that. However, he’s getting a cupcake because it’s not as if I can keep it from him and I like his wife very much.)

I feel less restless now. I think this blog helps me with that feeling. I’m grateful for it. And for you guys who apparently read it, ha ha.

Sincerely yours,

J.J





Easter Food Trouble

31 03 2013

 

I am so totally gaining weight this week. Oy vey.

First, my mother makes a ham. I love me some ham. Especially with sweet potatoes, which we also made. So yesterday was yum yum yum ham time.

But then today we went out for lunch with my aunt for Easter. (They went to church. I did not. I slept, showered, and walked the dog.)

I got a bowl of tomato bisque soup with fried basil-yum yum yum. It was a little creamy and with a little fresh pepper very pleasing.

Then I got-hold the phone-a bacon cheddar burger on brioche with rum barbecue sauce and fries. I did not finish either, but not because of a lack of desire. The bacon wasn’t too crispy and tasted of wood smoke, there was garlic aioli on the side, the fries with super thin but not too crunchy…I could have eaten it all, but I took the rest home. Weight Watchers Lesson Victory!

But then came my Achilles’ heel, my kryptonite, my greatest weakness: dessert, shared with my mother. Three miniature desserts-molten chocolate cake (which is pretty common, but was very well done, topped with vanilla ice cream), peach apple cobbler (oh god, I loved it, with caramel ice cream), and lemon souffle cake thing (pleasing to the tongue, with fresh whipped cream and raspberries). I got a tingle from that dessert trio, yes I did.

Then I got home, and my godmother’s son came over on his way home (from a monastery-he’s getting really into his religion), with fast friendly apple pie. And I had some. It was also delicious.

It is almost eight o’clock. I have a chocolate bunny from Lindt, leftover burger and fries, ham and sweet potato, and more pie. I am in so much trouble.

Happy Easter, however (or if) you celebrate, everyone!

Sincerely yours,

J.J





Accidentally Sexist Cookies

18 12 2012

I bought new cookie cutters today because the female cookie cutter had a skirt and legs. My other one doesn’t, it’s a legless woman. I made my last batches of cookies sexist. I am saddened by this. My next batch will be better. And will have faces because I have icing tips now. And I bought the cutest cookie boxes to put them in, yay!

Don’t you just love products? I went to Michael’s for the cookie cutters and decorating icing and ended with melting chocolate and sparkling sugars. I also saw a deluxe frosting tip set, so if I back into baking for serious-DO WANT. I want to make pretty cupcakes for Valentine’s Day.

But Thursday will be cookies and pretzels day-tomorrow is shopping day! For my mother and Big C anyway. I don’t know how I’m going to buy something for my brother, ’cause he is impossible to buy for, but I have to at least get Mom and Big C. (I wish I could buy BB something, but it’s not like I’d really know what to get, and anyway we don’t know each other’s addresses.)

Tonight, I’m making pork tenderloin for the first time. I hope it comes out really well, and goes nicely with my mashed sweet potatoes. And I’m really hungry…oh, wait, it’s almost done.

No it isn’t. Meh. HUNGRY. But my sweet potatoes are yummy. So I will wait. It’s resting now, and it smells so good! Fingers crossed!

It tasted good! It was a tiny bit undercooked, but it was okay, I think I’ve got it down! YAY!

…now I’m eating Froot Loops. I like Froot Loops. As sugary cereals go, it’s not so bad, nutritionally speaking.

***

Okay, tomorrow might be baking day instead, because my money for shopping didn’t come in. And now I’m sad. But I like baking, so that’s all right. I can do my pretzels and make my gingerbread dough

And since I haven’t talked about BB today: he e-mails and talks about how he’s feeling! That gives me such a happy feeling. I mean, I assume it’s because I’m not physically in front of him and it’s easier to type such things than to say them out loud, but it still makes me happy.

My mother said that she thinks he’s perfect. Cue eye rolling. But I can’t help but smile at the idea.

Geez, I talk about him a lot. I guess it gives me something to think about.

***

Seven days until Christmas, I’m excited. I don’t even have a tree yet-this December is going by really fast. But I’ll get a little tree-I have to have a tree, it’s not Christmas without it.

Hey, everyone, name the one thing that it’s not Christmas without! Is it decor? A food? A tradition?

(Does anyone go caroling? I don’t, because I’m pretty sure the reaction I would get would be something along the lines of ‘What the hell? There’s some bitch outside singing Christmas carols. I think she wants money. Let’s call the police.’ Also, I’m not going up to stranger’s houses and singing, who knows what’s on the other side of the door, it’s not like I live in Pleasantville, Minnesota.)

…I should probably be showering. Night everyone!

 

Sincerely yours,

J.J





…ARGHAGHAHGH…okay.

29 09 2012

I HAVE LOST THIRTY POUNDS! WHEEEEE!

That is the only thing I’m happy about. Oh, and that the corniest nonsensical musical idea ever conceived is back on television. (For those of you who are all, ‘Wha?” I’m talking about Glee. As television goes, the writing is terrible and inconsistent, but it’s so much fun.)

I pose a question to the other post college age twenty somethings out there? Did any of you think that you would have been better off by this age when you were kids? I did. I thought I would be someone’s wife or girlfriend. I expected a college degree by now at the very least, I expected grad school or a job I loved. I expected a little apartment with my dog. (I do have the dog, but he barks too much and I think he likes my mother better.)

But no! I am thirty two pounds over weight, still living with my mother, single (not that there’s anyone I want to date ATM), I have no real job, no degree, and still in therapy.

And the worst part? I have the potential to do better. People expected me to do better. I wanted better. And I can’t seem to get past my depression, my anxiety, my doubt, my short attention span, and my lack of self confidence.

Does anyone else feel like this? Like nothing quite seems to go right, or not for long enough? I know I’m not the only who feels like the universe had planted a giant ‘kick me’ sign on them.

***

I’m experimenting with making Frappuccinos at home. Of course it’s not the same, it doesn’t have the same taste. Starbucks probably has some secret ingredient. Anyone have a guess? I did figure out you need a little less than a cup of milk and more ice, rather than less, or it ends up being too liquid. Also, Starbucks uses coffee and a coffee base, whatever that is. so I can’t replicate it perfectly. ::sigh::

***

I love bacon. And pork chops. And ribs. But then I see the ‘Please don’t eat me, I love you’ t-shirt, and I almost start crying. Over a non existent pig who doesn’t actually love me.

That’s the problem, I think vegetarianism is a nice idea, but I don’t think I would last two weeks. No chicken, no fish, no bison, and of course, no pork. That eliminates most protein out of my diet. I really don’t like tofu or beans, I can’t have nuts, and I don’t think it’s healthy to live on protein supplements.

***

It is 1:30 in the morning, and I’m still up. I’m wide awake. But this post is full of ramble at this point, so I’ll leave it here for now.

 

Sincerely yours,

J.J