There’s Nothing About Us That Wouldn’t Be Better in Moonlight

I am overjoyed, boundlessly overjoyed (which implies a hypothetical boundary of joy, but I assure you, we’ve long since bypassed any such boundaries if they were to exist).  Why, may you ask?  Because there is one more day off.  One more restful, stupid, getting the chance to flail and be stupid about the diet, getting the chance to be just a completely unconcerned idiot kind of day.

I’m showing up here, though, because I’ve invented this habit and I don’t want to be the one who says that it’s too difficult to both sit on the couch and blog.  Not when Misha Collins ran nearly 83 kms today for charity just because he said he was going to run and see how far he could go.   Seriously.  No joke.   That man is inspiration in a can.   Between he and Cmdr. Shepard, I’ve got some badass good spirits to follow after on Labor Day.

Hmm.  So today was Sunday, which feels very fuzzy and disorienting to pin down.  Sunday.  Food wise, diet wise – definitely a day of pluses and minuses.  Ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and grapes and some french fries and some of a Denny’s sandwich which, to no one’s great surprise, wasn’t terribly fantastic (not bad, though, and I kind of dug how this diner was actually decorated like a diner.  An art deco, groovy diner.  Doesn’t change the fact that it was still a Denny’s and Denny’s are meant for after midnight when you don’t care what you’re eating, you just want to be with your friends and have chili cheese fries and laugh at the fact you’re eating in a Denny’s).  Um, sorry for the long aside there, I also ate ramen and chocolate ice cream.  But!  That really does not take into account all the small portions, the things I said no to, or the fact that I didn’t murder someone when we didn’t have dessert.  Or the fact that I’m continuing to drink water every day – a very positive human thing to do.

Also, we kept another of our small lexicon of words today, and went for a walk.  Broke through that ridiculous but insistent resistance that doesn’t want to walk or really do anything but slowly degrade into a thick, pink goo right here on the loveseat.   There was a bit of an internal war which the good side won.  A bit of a start there, though.  Also, bought some shakes and cheese sticks because I trust them and me with them.

I was thinking that I love the weekends, obviously, since they’re my last real, untethered sense of freedom until next Friday at 5:00pm, but I really am so wildly wide open with my time that everything seems urgent and important to tackle and I completely paralyze myself.  Small steps, taking it bird by bird and we can find a way through the head games. This is the year of coulds and shoulds being converted into things that are tangible – that “are.”  This is the year of change.

What the Heck

I did really well.   On some different scales than I would have thought, but overall, I’m happy with how today – first day of this fourteen (fifteenish) day challenge went/is going.

Things I did today that were awesome.  I took my car for an oil change.  It’s been acting just a little funky-ish, just not as responsive and yesterday, it felt…I don’t know, sort of wobbly.  So, I didn’t put it off for another day when I really, really won’t have time to take care of it – I just took care of it.  Which was nice, not that expensive, and hopefully, will stave off some potential problems.

Then, huzzah, I drove to the closer grocery store and got some chicken for a recipe that came from in my email for garlic, sun-dried tomato chicken and looked rapturously delicious.  Also got some other random things, including some ravioli I made for dinner and some dark chocolate.  Kind of thinking that the best way to combat the frustration of trying to diet is not to worry so much about that, and instead getting healthy things with the best quality I can.  I got home a bit later than I wanted and I have an early morning breakfast meeting tomorrow, so the big exercising plan didn’t play out as I hoped.  But I’m going to find a way.   If I have to throw myself on the bike (which has a seat with a resiliency and squishy factor of a brick), for a few minutes, that’s what it will come to.   I have some ideas.  Not forcing it or being too upset about it – I’ve got my share to be upset about, too – it’s just going to be way too much at once.

So I’m fixating on what is working out.   Dinner was fabulous and filling and had carrots and grapes and ravioli and will have dark chocolate and really, I’m kicking myself for not opening up the bottle of wine because if I have some now, I’ll pass out and not take a bath or read or do any of the important pre-bed things I can do to make this day even better.

I’ve been reading, too! Maniacally.  I’ve started putting books in the bathroom, which is a risky proposition all the way around, however, it’s leading me to read more in big swathes of time than I might do otherwise and reading always helps.  Currently, I’m reading Blue Shoe by Anne Lamott since I figured it wasn’t fair to love Bird by Bird so unequivocally and deeply, bone-marrow deeply, and not have read any of her actual fiction.  Seems like cheating.  So it winked at me at the bookstore and I took it home and I am slowly, deliberately, having my way with it.  Can’t ever let myself forget the magic of a good book.

I weighed in this morning at the usual, magical, mobius number of 154.5.  This is after convincing myself that 150.5 couldn’t be right and checking and resetting the scale.   There’s some frustration in that number, a shitload of frustration, but what are you going to do about it?

Eat a banana.

Waulking Song

Can I write a 500 word to-do list?

The September 1 Plan


I want to restart the budget.  I have enough money stashed away now that it won’t completely break my heart to look at how much I really need to spend on other things besides food and books.   The budget is good because it’s all part of the reality that I spend a lot of time just avoiding because that’s easier and more pleasant and then, whammo, it smacks me in the face that bills have to be paid and I’ve spent all my money on plane tickets, caviar, and almost disgusting levels of dead cat Chipotle.  Seriously, tonight, Chipotle and I broke up for another phase in the cycle of our love-hate relationship.  September 1 – ??? is a Chipotle free zone.

I’ll be using the fantastic YNAB software.  Which you can get at It’s a good website name because you do need a budget, but probably not as much as me.


Build a pattern back up.  I am not going to start by saying 30 minutes 3 x a week.  I don’t want to create a hoop that I am not going to be able to jump through starting from nothing.   But tomorrow, I’ll be doing some exercise and I’ll report on that here.  Probably walking with the ipod for a while.  Enjoying the death rattle of summer and the last of the cloudless blue skies before they’re adulterated with gray clouds and failing light.


Make a food plan for two weeks.  Use excel or something.  Put in your calories and put down what you eat.  Eat healthy stuff.  No fast food, minimal (MEENEEMAL) pop, lots of water, and do your best.  We’ll have a start weight and an end weight to see if all of this is working or if I need to go in another direction (maybe low-carb, maybe greater strictness, who knows until the thing is done and we can evaluate.)  Tomorrow night is my first chance to go to the grocery store – so we’ll have to scrape it together tomorrow morning and for lunch.  Much, much less salt.


Don’t let work get you down so much.  It’s always like this.  You’re always stressed, what is there to do about it except leave?  And if you’re not ready to leave, which…you’re not, on several levels,  then you have to deal with it.  By dealing with it, though, you can’t take it onboard yourself.  You can’t treat the stress like you’re mass producing it and have to sell it otherwise your stockroom will overflow.  It’s just a rising and ebbing tide.  You’re more than the work, than the office, than the imperfect and uninformed opinions others have of you and it’s going to be okay.  Wear what you want to wear.  So long as it covers you and doesn’t have obscenities written all over it, you’re okay.  Dye your hair or cut it or do what you want with it.  It’s your head.


Open Khalil and Vera every night and stare at it until it makes your eyes bleed and then make it better.

It’s not over now, just because it’s over.

September 15,  we’ll check in on all this struggling.


Something five years ago that I would never have guessed to be the case five years in the future – something perhaps I would have considered to be a positive – is the fact that I can’t cry much, anymore.

I yearn for it.  I still tear up rapidly especially when I don’t mind the empath side of myself and am around the energy that creates that, but for me?  It seems like opening a huge vat of sadness, creating a problem in and other itself to deal with.  Like I could slip into this place I couldn’t get myself out of.  It feels so risky to acknowledge that I’m getting my head kicked in.

Okay.  It’s later and we’ve got the AC blowing and I’m not going to talk about all of that not because I can’t but because there’s other things in the world than my ineffable vat of sadness that I so angstily am no longer allowed to stew in.   Me, I’d really like to lose twenty pounds and it’s not going to happen eating insane sandwiches with FRENCH FRIED ONIONS as part of their recipe – heaven knows it was good, but not a great first day diet meal when you’re going low-carb.   I’d like, more than anything, to buy dresses from modcloth and not question if even the large would fit me.   I’d like to accomplish this.  I’d like to get to the end of the year and have broken through.  I’d like a hell of a lot and at the same time, not so very much.

So, I’ve got myself our little AC unit, blowing enough cool air on me to keep my brain from turning to cranberry jelly and melting out my eardrums.  I’ve got somethi

I wrote in my head something of an opening sequence for the poem while walking in the 100 degree heat to the post office box.  I was able to tie in that airport image and the basic time travel stuff and I’m going to nail it down so it can be the cornerstone of Firmament and then Firmament can be sent off and published.   That’s a plan.  That makes me quite happy to contemplate.

We’re also – apparently – redoing the kitchen or at least adding a backsplash and painting and changing out fixtures and all that HGTV kind of malarkey.  My little sister wants to help with this since this is what she went to school to learn how to do and what she picked, I’m actually fine with so…provided I don’t spend all my hard-earned dollars on illicit sandwiches between now and then…we’ll spend a little money on making the condo not so eighties-fied.  Eightiesrific?  There’s currently a big copper brown stain on the wall that looks a little questionable, but I actually think this might be a good change to make right now.

It was a stressful day, but there’s more to life than stressful days even when I can’t see outside of them.  Being happy isn’t so fucking lame.

This morning I was still 150.5 which I think gave me a weird looseness to my trying today.  All I can tell you is that we’re working on it.

The Ocean Refuses No River

Okay, I had this great concept when I rolled out of bed this morning about doing sort of tweet-style blogging where I kind of track the whole day chronologically with how I’m doing on this whole day one business.  But, eh, didn’t happen.  I played a lot of Dragon Age, I cleaned 25% of my room, I dicked around on the internet since Supernatural was at Comic-Con.  However, I did, earnestly and whole-heartedly start the diet.  Again.  Eventually.

My pilot light has been lit.

It’s now ten-thirty, and I’m running a bath (hopefully a quick one so I don’t burn the last stub of today’s candle in one brief go) and I’m feeling sort of amazed and ready and weird.  It’s this Aquarius full moon, I swear.

So, I had better go mind the bathwater.  Will be back for a very interesting treatise on habit and inertia.

Or  maybe not, and maybe that will have to suffice for a treatise.  Read in the tub another chapter or so of A Clash of Kings and loved it.

Basically, I started today and while I finished the pizza for breakfast, I got myself there.  I have to build  this and I will build this.  By this evening, I’d had a couple meals under my belt, gone to the store and despite the most ridiculous internal tantrum that I’ve ever been privy to, got actual healthy food that I will eat.  So I don’t find a huge amount to complain about.  It is just finding a line you can hold and holding it and this morning, I weighed myself and was a bit baffled.  150.5.  I was sure with all the bologna I’ve been eating (metaphoric bologna), that I’d have to have swung back up to that old standby 154, at least.  AT LEAST!

So I don’t trust the scale, but I think scale-hopping is a recipe for self-sabotage and self-hatred.  I may be off, but I’m off the same way every time.  The weight is was it is –  a number, a mark to go by.  I know how yesterday and into this morning felt.  I know it every well.  I knew it the day before I started this project and I’m sure I’ll know it again.  The thing is this, I’m getting back up.  I’m facing facts that I’m going away from what I want.  I’m going back to the safety and security of the messy house that no one can visit, the messy personality that no one can unwind and detangle, the language meant to completely obscure meaning, feeling like a ghost in my own life.

I was just getting grounded, I was just getting good.  Then the fear set in and the vacation became an excuse and I let myself not want it so deeply.  I gave up mantras and the laser focus became diffuse.

It is bigger than one meal or one failure or one message on OKCupid.

I have to acknowledge deeply and truthfully and in the mirror, eyeball to eyeball that nothing is going to happen unless I take the reins and make it happen or, really, just allow it to happen.



Hey there!

I’m pretty jazzed because of a few things.  I am not as weak and miserable a creature as I thought.  This is a nice discovery.  I DID go to the gym! Huzzah and HOORAH for your generally spineless but rather dear correspondent.   I did it despite all the haze and the you don’t have to’s and the you could get away with it – all the usual voices pulling at me.  But there’s a light at the end of this week and I’m just motoring towards it.   I’ve not been good.  I’ve been bad.  I’ve been girl with a curl right in the middle of her forehead bad.  But!  What are you going to do?  You going to come to my house and castigate me and beat me with reeds and tie me to the back of your Schwinn and march me down the street saying for SHAME FOR SHAME?  Much as it would ease my burden, I’m the only one who really invests all that much in my personal moral parabola.

So.  I forgive.  I got some events coming up – luncheon tomorrow which I will do okay at.  Not sure what we’re having but I can x out some of the carbs.  Then, it’s the sister’s birthday and she wants chinese and I haven’t had good chinese in forever.  So what I need to do is the best I can and keep going with the exercise and the sanity.  And the commitment.  Keep my foot put down.

Today was good.  A friend of our organization recently lost her husband and she brought in a lot of the food she was given and couldn’t eat – including big cheesecake trays and cookies and poundcake and it’s like, damnit.  It’s a big heaving DAMNIT because I have no control over that and it pushes me.   It frustrates me. I have to get it in my head that this is not going to change.  It’s been this same way for four years.  I have to change.  At least for today, I left the sweets for someone else.

I will change.  I am changing.  I am keeping on this.  I am not giving up.

I have a dress I want to get and I really would like to look as good as I can and not just whatever in it.   In fact, it is this dress.  It’d be super nice to actually enjoy spending money on clothes and wanting to wear them.  A nice outfit seems like a good reward versus trying to somehow allow myself a wad of gummy bears or pizza or something that’s going to push me backwards and not towards my goals.   This is Secret Project: Knickers – Tactic #1.  New Dress.  I am going to keep you and myself posted on this one.  I say getting to 147 sounds like a good time.  Not far away at all, but it will take me doing more to make it happen.

This is a challenge.  Not an insurmountable one.   I just need to re-assess my motivations here.

WORK HARD//LOVE HARD (you can do it, baby)


Grouchy! The weather is making me grouchy! Work is making me grouchier!

I have to make some decisions about dinner and I’m not doing well, guys.  I am thinking I want pizza.  Urgh.  Not a super great idea.  SALT.  It’s full of salt.   Bad news for Bonzo, guys.  Didn’t go to the gym today, guys.  May have had half an order of way horrible pancakes (how do you make pancakes horrible? somehow these were), guys.  Bad NEWS.  Not good.

My boss’ big surprise party is tomorrow and I would like to have a new dress for it, potentially, so I’m calling up sister part deux to see if we can go make a stop at ye olde Dress Barn since it’s not so very far away.  But the weather may put a kink in this as well.  The sky is the color of computer paper under weak fluorescence.  White, but also yellow and gray.  I’m staring at it until my eyeballs dance.  If she comes, then there are more food options and hopefully, some increased resolve.  If you want to ask why I couldn’t just go myself, well, that’s a journal entry for some other time when I care  to not be awkward and lame about my own life issues.  Fair warning: you might be waiting a while.

She is coming! Yay for small miracles.  We’ll have to find a pritty little dress.   Quickly.  So, we’ll do our best.  And we’ll straighten our hair since someone, more likely than not, is going to be taking my picture tomorrow. (Apologies for lapsing into a Gollumsy third person, I just tend to triple my obnoxious quotient when it comes to events where I know I’m going to be on display a bit.)

Okay.  So.  No dress.  Had a hamburger.  Tried to be good.  Still ravenous.  Considering what to do next.  She had a headache and wanted to go home and while I couldn’t justify spending $60.00 on a dress, I feel like I am hungry – actual physical hungriness and now I don’t know what to do with myself.  What’s close is not super fantastic healthiness.   While we were out a co-worker called and the work drama is already starting.  Ugh.  Right now, there’s nothing in the house to eat.  Or so I want to say.  What’s in the house is stuff that is a. lowish-carb and b.  stuff I have to cook.

What I want is to snap out of it.  But I’m in the middle of it – literally – and I don’t know how to steel and galvanize myself against actual hunger despite knowing how crazy it is to have just gone out and gotten food (I didn’t order more because….I wanted to be goodish) and now that I’m home, be prowling about like a ravenous tyger, fearful asymmetry and all.

I was able to consider what I actually needed and not buy a new dress.  But right now, all there is is the hunger and my bad habits resurging like a son of a bitch.

I don’t like this out of control feeling at all.

So.  I have to take a deep breath.  Think.  Tomorrow I have no idea or control over what I’m having for lunch.  Probably chicken, possibly not.  There will be rolls and other items.  For my dinner meeting, I know we’re having pizza which of course I can choose not to partake of, but that means not eating until 7:30 or 8:00.  Willpower at that point is usually pretty negligible (right now might be my Exhibit A).  Thursday, lunch could be okay if we don’t go out and if I can get to the grocery store – two pretty big damn if’s.  But dinner will be pasta catered for our big party.  Of course, I can not partake of the FREE food and instead, make something having gone to the grocery store – those are options, but I just am stupid and don’t deal with them.

I’m trying to decide what I’m going to allow myself to do tonight – before the snow comes.  I’m actually kind of chilling out.  There is some food here I can eat.  I got Diet Dr. Pepper, too.  I can do myself this one favor and draw a line.  Maybe I won’t eat fantastically here, but I’ll eat my own food and save that money for something that can make me happy for more than one second.

One small step for today, one giant leap forward for my weakling willpower.

If I can do this now, I can do this whenever, however, I need to. So can you.  Breathe.  Think.  Make the best compromise you can.  If it goes wrong, fix it.