disco.

today it's only wednesday.  and it's been a long, yucky wednesday.  so i'm going to go to bed and sleep.  but first i thought i'd show you what has me plugging along this week:

come sunday, i'll be hanging ornaments (including several disco balls) and stringing lights and playing the first christmas music of the season.  and that, my friends, makes it okay that i had a long, yucky wednesday.

lose.

in the last year, i've gained nearly thirty pounds.  i think that surprises people when i tell them.  because i'm tall and have a fairly well-proportioned figure, i carry the weight pretty well.  but it's still there.  and i can't wear most of my clothes.  i have exactly two pair of pants and three skirts that fit.  true, i can squeeze into a few other items, but not many.  and that is why i need to lose at least fifteen pounds (though i'd really like to lose all thirty).  because i simply cannot afford to buy a new wardrobe.

the only question is how.  i've never had to really think about losing weight before.  the only time i lost any significant amount, it just sort of happened when my lifestyle changed a bit.  this time, it's going to take some concerted effort.  so here's what i'm going to do:

• slimfast for breakfast.  because a friend used it a few years ago and it worked for her.  so i'm willing to ignore the questionable taste and try it.
• exercising at least three times a week.  i should really try to workout daily, but i know myself well enough to know that is highly unlikely.  i figure having a more realistic goal will not only make it more achievable, but also less likely to result in guilt, which usually triggers a defeatist attitude and the subsequent indulgence in sweets.  yeah.  i want to avoid that scenario.
• in addition to working out, i'm going to try to walk more often.  i think the fact that i walked thirty minutes a day helped me lose the weight the last time.
• cutting down on portion sizes.  i don't much buy into fad diets that stress cutting carbs or just sugar or purges or what have you.  but i do think that cutting portion sizes can go a long way.
• cutting down on sugar intake.  i won't cut it altogether.  i like sweets.  and i'll occasionally eat them.  but no more snacking on candy bars from the college vending machine or making a side trip to get a cupcake.  
• cutting down on fast food.  it's just too easy to run through a drive through to grab a quick bite to eat.  this will be easier since i'm relatively poor and fast food adds up quickly.  it's much cheaper to just buy the groceries and cook.  

so there you have it.  my plan.  hopefully it will produce results and i'll be able to wear my jeans again.  and all my cute skirts.  and hopefully the slimfast will become more palatable.  this morning i drank the "french vanilla" (in quotes because it tasted neither french nor vanilla) with a diet coke chaser.

sir.

yesterday i buzzed my head again.  i was trying to wait until january so my sister could see my curls again when i go visit next month.  but i just couldn't handle the maintenance anymore.  and i didn't have the money for a real haircut.  so it was a set of clippers with a #2 comb, my friend C, her baby A on my lap, and her three-year-old E throwing a temper tantrum with periodic breaks for conversation.  she was a saint to take the time to do it for me.  and now i have my edgy, gender-bending cut back.  i wonder how long it will take for someone to call me sir...

bad.

i've been thinking.  i need to find a better way to manage my bad habits.  because, you see, they tend to assert themselves in waves.  for instance, a while ago i committed to not drinking quite so much diet coke.  so i was good for a while.  then i had this party for which i, of course, bought diet coke, which left me with most of a flat of diet coke, which of course had to be consumed...you see where this is going?  and last week it culminated in consuming a 12-pack in just under 48 hours.  that's just a wee bit too much diet coke to be healthy.

i do the same thing with television.  i go days without watching, weeks with only an hour or two of viewtime, and then--BAM! it hits.  i spend hours in front of the television (which is how i've managed to watch most of season three and four of bones in the last week).

this is clearly not a good thing.  so i'm resolved: i will now indulge in my bad habits in small bits on a more regular basis.  because surely it's better to watch a little tv every few days than a lot of tv in just a few days or to drink a little diet coke in the space of a week or two than twelve cans in 48 hours.  this seems a positive resolution: just a bit of bad habit indulgence here and there.  you know--to save myself from myself.

some bad habits i'll occasionally indulge:

• watching tv.  most likely bones.  or occasionally NCIS.  and, if i can keep myself awake long enough, the daily show and once in a while the colbert report.
• drinking diet coke.  though this is one that my recent headaches have indicated i should try to weed out altogether.
• eating chocolate.  clearly this is not going to stop altogether; that would just be dumb.  so i'll try to only eat really good chocolate.  and as i'm poor, this will likely only happen on the rare occasions i feel rich or someone else decides to give me really good chocolate.
• laying in my bed awake for hours in the morning while doing nothing but listening to NPR.  i mean, NPR is certainly worth listening to, but surely it's better to do it while cleaning or cooking or getting ready for the day--something that's more productive than simply laying there.

i think that's a good list to get started on.  so here's to being bad more often in smaller doses.

{p.s. i know i missed yesterday for NaBloPoMo, but you'll have to forgive me as i actually did not have access to a computer; odd, i know, but true.  i think being disconnected on occasion is an acceptable reason not to post daily.}

afternoon.

it's friday afternoon.  i've had a delicious mid-afternoon nap.  and now i've steeped myself a pot of my favorite rubyfruit tea.  my new apartment is clean and already feels like my home.  there's a picasso on one wall, a matisse on another, and a hopper on a third.  and now i'll settle down with my tea and my book and make progress on my work.  and life--life is very good.

and you?  how have you spent your friday afternoon?

resolve (reprise)

i have a problem.  a consumption problem.  i'm a consumer.  and i'm not proud of it.  not that there's anything inherently wrong with buying things or using things.  i consume books, which i think is a good thing (for instance).  but i certainly buy more than i need.  i do shop sales. and i do resist outrageously expensive items.  but if i'm going to buy three moderately priced shirts instead of one expensive one, what's the point?

the fact is that i've paid off my credit cards (yay me!) and i want to keep it that way.  and then there's the little detail about being under-employed at the moment (even more under-employed than i have been the last six years), which means i really don't have much discretionary income.  so, in the spirit of last year's resolution, i'm resolved.  again.  as follows:

resolution the first: do not buy clothing i do not need.  i'm allowed to buy an item of clothing if: 1. i inexplicably ruin something that i use all the time (the chances of this are slim, as i can't remember the last time i ruined something); or 2. i lose weight and nothing fits (again, the chances of this are slim; plus i have all my old skinny clothes i could start wearing again); or 3. (more likely) i gain weight and nothing fits.  which leads me to a side resolution: i'll start exercising, if only to maintain my current size to minimize my potential need for new clothes.  but that resolution is for another post.

resolution the second: do not buy books i do not need.  this is trickier.  because, really--books are like food and water.  here's my guidelines: 1. i can buy a book i need to read for my lists; or 2. i can buy audio books to listen to in the car.  if there's no imminent possibility of reading a book, i do not buy it.  no matter how fascinating it looks.  instead, i add it to the nifty list of books to read on my phone and wait for some point in the future (which increases the odds it will be in paperback instead of hardback).

resolution the third: do not buy shoes.  period.  no. more. shoes.  the fact is that i really did an admirable job of not buying shoes per last year's resolution (shoes i bought in that year: one pair of sandals i actually needed; one pair of dance shoes i actually needed; and one frivolous pair of royal blue tennis shoes i did not need, but i was on vacation so i excused myself).  but once the resolution ended--well, let's just say that i reverted and bought shoes.  so no shoes.  the only permissible exception is tennis shoes (assuming i actually do start exercising and my current pair wears out).

resolution the fourth: remove credit cards from wallet.  cause if they're not in my wallet, i can't use them. i have them for emergencies and that's the only time i'll use them.  with one exception: if i need to buy something online (see aforementioned exceptions), i can use a credit card.

resolution the fifth: find new forms of recreation.  because currently i shop as a pastime.  mostly browsing bookstores, because let's face it--browsing bookstores is fun.  but i sometimes do other kinds of shopping for fun, too.  like target.  target is simply wonderful for browsing.  but it's time to find other forms of entertainment.  free forms of entertainment (if you have suggestions, i'm all ears).

so there you have it--my new resolutions.  here's to making this set as successful as the last set.

sleep.

two months ago, i couldn't sleep more than three hours at a time.  most nights i'd get between three and five hours of (disrupted) sleep.  six hours!!  that felt like heaven, even if it was disrupted.  six weeks ago, i was  getting between four and six hours a night, but it remained disrupted because i'd wake up every single night at 4:30.  a month ago, i was dependent on sleep medication to get any sleep.  which also meant that if i didn't go to bed early enough, my day the next day was a bit of a disaster.

and now?  now i sleep eight hours easily with no sleep meds.  it feels beautiful.  but it's a problem.  because i sleep my eight hours and then turn off my alarm and sleep another two.  or three.  i've never slept so much in my life.  i blame the sun.  or the absence thereof.  i get no sunlight in my new room, so it's easy to slide back into sleep in the mornings.

damn sleep!  it's stressing me out.  but i think i found the solution: an $8 alarm clock from ikea with a progressively more annoying alarm located underneath my loft bed so i have to actually get out of bed to turn it off.  so far it's worked wonders.

simplicity.

a few weeks ago i wrote that i wanted life to be simple. and last night i found simplicity. i texted j(wh) late yesterday afternoon and, instead of the stereotypical dinner-and-a-movie, i proposed dinner and a bookstore. so we ate delicious food. and then we wandered through the aisles of borders, browsing through books about everything from politics to birds to hippos-with-glued-on-shoes and relationships. and, when the music on the loudspeakers got a bit bluesy, we danced in the aisle.

and there was my simplicity. two hours in the company of my love. and, when he had to go back to work and i drove home, i took joy and peace with me.

give.

for anyone who's looking for a gift idea for me, i'd love this:


and it's a double gift--something i'd love to listen to and support for NPR. and we all know i'm an NPR junkie.

creepy-crawly.

yesterday, while sitting in my office on campus allegedly working, i felt something move on my foot. and when i pushed back from the desk and looked, i discovered a huge black beetle crawling on my foot.

i naturally followed the appropriate procedure for responding to such a situation: i screamed, while kicking my foot violently to expel the alien.

but, you say, how do i know this is the appropriate procedure? because it has manifest itself through three generations (my mother, my sisters, and my niece) without explicit instruction. complete with violent foot kick, screaming, wacky arm-flailing dancing (as i was seated, i didn't take that step), and subsequent laughter. because i of course laughed at myself as soon as the bug was gone.

but my ability to recognize how ridiculous my reaction was (i mean, how hard would it be for a giant like me to destroy that beetle, regardless of his hideousness?) did not allay my fears. every little movement against my skin could be another beetle. and the fact that i couldn't see where my expulsion had landed the invader left me a little worried. so i quickly vacated my office (which really was a good thing, as i was too distracted by the internet there). and before i got into my car, i shook out my skirt. just in case the kick had inexplicably left the bug clinging to it, lurking until he could make another foray against my peace of mind...

prayer.

this morning i was sitting in the senate cafeteria, working. and i happened to glance across the room and saw a strange scene. there were four senate staffers sitting at a table together, food in front of them. one was talking, hands gesticulating. one was looking at her. and the two sitting across the table from them were clearly praying—hands clasped in front of them, heads bowed, perfect respectful stillness. it was such a strange situation—government employees praying so publicly and right across the table from two people in animated conversation—that i watched for a minute to see how the dynamic shifted.

and then i realized they weren’t praying. they were absorbed in their blackberries. which, i suppose, may be its own form of worship…

overflowing.

being with j(wh) makes me feel like this:

can you blame me for wanting to be with him every minute i can?

resolve.

so today i left campus intending to go to barnes & noble, curl up in one of their cushy chairs with my ipod and a cup of tea and my book, and read for a few hours. but as i walked across the bridge from the parking lot to the bookstore, i noticed that the new DSW shoe store had opened right next door to B&N. now if you know me, you know i have a thing for shoes. and that's putting it mildly. so naturally i had to wander into DSW and check out the offerings. and when i saw a pair of rocket dog flats with an orangy red and turquoise blue print (brooke you will love these shoes), i naturally had to try them on. and when i spent twenty minutes walking around the store in them and they proved to be comfortable and i loved their funky print even more--well, i naturally had to buy them. {on a side note: i did resist the gorgeous peep-toe winter white pumps in a distressed patent leather with a wide strap across the top of my arch with a funky big buckle and three-inch stacked heels; damn they were hard to leave behind!}

so buy them i did. and then i felt guilty. because i'm supposed to be paying off my credit cards and trying to do a better job of living within my means. i'm not supposed to be indulging my love of shoes.

i didn't return them. i brought them home with me. and when i got home and looked at all the delicious shoes in my closet (and there are a lot of lovely shoes in my closet), i decided that i needed to be better. so i'm resolved:

resolution the first: i'll not buy any new shoes for a year. the only exception is if a legitimate need arises (like i magically start exercising and my tennis shoes are worn out and hurt my feet; this is unlikely to happen because 1. i don't exercise, except dancing; and 2. i got a new pair of tennis shoes last fall; i can conceive of wearing out my dancing shoes and i'm allowed to replace those if necessary).

resolution the second: in order to actually realize resolution the first, i'm not going to go into a shoe store or a shoe department unless i'm with someone else who needs to look at shoes (then i can help them spend their money on scrumptious shoes, which is almost as much fun as spending my own money on shoes).

resolution the third: although all of my shoes are wonderful, the reality is that there are some i simply don't wear any longer. mostly because my tastes have changed. it's time to purge shoes and let someone who can actually use them have them. if you wear a size ten, let me know if you want to take a look before i send them off to good will.

i'll report periodically so you know if i've slipped up. but i swear i'm not going to. no shoes for me for a whole year.

ideas.

another reason j(wh) is so wonderful: he makes me put my hands in my hair.

a bit of explanation: when i was an undergrad, i would get myself into long, provocative conversations with friends. and as i got more and more excited by the ideas we were talking about, i'd run my hands through my hair, giving myself a lovely puffy halo of hair. during the last several years, one of the effects of depression has been losing my interest in ideas. i've very rarely found myself impassioned by a discussion with friends. and i've mourned that loss of intellectual excitement. i can't remember the last time i got excited enough to muss my own hair (i'm a little obsessive about it not being fluffed up--i hate fluffy hair).

well, a couple of weeks ago as j(wh) and i were reading the botany of desire together, stopping occasionally to follow tangential trains of thought generated by the book, i found myself with my fingers buried in my hair, excited about ideas. and while that was the first time i noticed my old habit of messing with my hair when discussing fascinating ideas, j(wh) has always lured me into long, interesting conversations. it was sitting in a parking garage for three hours talking about various and sundry things at the end of our first date that made me know i wanted to go out with him again.

and that is one of many reasons he's so wonderful.

purge.

last week, i looked in my closet and i thought to myself, 'i'm sick of looking at a closet full of clothes i can't wear.' over the course of the last two years, i've slowly gained 20 pounds. my being nearly six feet tall makes it hard for others to notice my weight gain. but when i pull a dress over my head and shoulders and then it sticks at my hips or i can't get a skirt up over my hips--well, it's noticeable to me.

my body doesn't bother me. i don't think i'm fat. most of my aspirations regarding my body have to do with being in better shape. more endurance (for all those long nights of dancing). more strength. not finding myself short of breath. being ready for a long bike ride or a backpacking trip. but looking at a closet full of clothes that i can't wear has a way of re-focusing my body-image on weight rather than on health. so i decided it was time for a purge.

i was (mostly) ruthless. always in the past when i've purged my closet, i've kept items that i haven't worn (for whatever reason) recently but that i still love. this time if it didn't fit, it was out. into storage. when the season for whatever item it is rolls around again, i'll try it on again. and if it doesn't fit, it goes to charity. even if it's something i simply love.

i took over 50 items out of my wardrobe. yes, i know. that's a lot, especially given how much is still in my closet. i'm a bit of a pack-rat. and, because i'm a bit fastidious about caring for my clothes, i keep them (and my shoes) forever (the oldest item i got rid of was 13 years old). it's only when i realize that an item has simply slipped out of favor that i get rid of it. but this time it was about fit, not favor. and it felt wonderful to purge.and yes. i am slightly OCD. why do you ask?

bliss.

the makings of a perfect evening:

a walk in the park, holding j(wh)'s hand, contemplating waterfowl, and luxuriating in the beauty of a spring evening.

random errand running which results in buying cheap gas (relatively speaking, of course) and superyummy soft peanutbutter cookies from costco, of which i promptly ate two. because i get cranky when i'm hungry.

wandering through the fullerton market, perusing vendor stalls, inspecting produce and fresh flowers, conversing with strangers, and laughing at little dogs in sweaters.

chatting with a produce vendor about dancing.

eating delicious roasted sweet white corn slathered in butter and sprinkled with garlic pepper salt.

sampling garlic basil hummus and whole wheat pita bread.

discovering vegetable ivory jewelry, made from the tagua nut grown on palms in the south american rainforest. so beautiful. i indulged and bought myself a funky yellow pendant.

dancing to the music of the blues band playing live.

going back past the dancing vendor's produce stand to buy a bag of strawberries and another of snow peas, which he sold us for $1 each since he was packing up for the night.

feasting on hummus, pita, snow peas, and strawberries while reading michael pollan's the botany of desire (a must read; so fascinating) out loud.

sharing it all with j(wh).

food.

i have a real problem. i don't feed myself. not properly. a typical morning goes like this:

• wake up
• putter around for a while essentially accomplishing little to nothing
• shower, hair, teeth, etc.
• listen to NPR (while doing all of the above)
• panic when i realize i have less time left than i thought to plan a lesson (or do whatever other pressing thing needs to be done)
• leave home in a flurry of bags and books (i almost always have two and often three or four bags slung over my shoulder when i walk out the door; my neighbors laugh at me for this)

notice anything missing? i eat breakfast before leaving home maybe once or twice a week. and i almost never pack a lunch in one of my copious bags. sometimes i have the time to actually buy something that resembles breakfast. of course, it usually involves unhealthy food--cheese, lots of eggs, bacon, lots of white bread, or all of the above. sometimes it's just a candy bar from a vending machine. and lunch? occasionally i walk across the street from campus and get a salad at the veggie grille. but usually it's fast food. pizza. burrito. burger. fried chicken. soda. fat. greasy. nasty. i don't like the way it makes me feel to eat like that. unclean. hyped on caffeine and sugar. loaded down.

worst of all? when i don't feed myself, i get cranky. and unproductive. and discouraged. it's not only physically unhealthy that i don't feed myself better--it's also psychologically and emotionally unhealthy.

on days when i don't eat, i find myself four hours after a normal breakfast time needing to eat but not able to decide on food. and when i think about the easy, fast alternatives, their grease content depresses me and makes me not want to eat them. so i procrastinate eating even longer. but i know that when i finally do eat, i feel better. almost immediately. so eventually i cave and eat the nasty food.

here's my challenge: i need to eat. but i need ideas of what to eat that's relatively easy and relatively fast (because time and effort are the most common reasons i don't eat in the first place) and relatively healthy. so if you've got ideas, i'd love to hear them. recipes. ingredients that are good to keep on hand. lunch food that packs easily in a paper bag or a lunch cooler. things i can eat easily in the car or on the go. because really--at 32 i should be able to feed myself, don't you think?

reasons.

these are my slippers:





last night j(wh) came in when he brought me home and i made us a pot of ruby fruit tea (mmmyummy--my favorite tea). and, as i am wont to do, i took off my shoes when i got inside. but it was a bit chilly in the house, so i put my slippers on. they're new. i got them on clearance for $4. and $4 instead of $20 for a pair of fuzzy, cozy slippers covers a multitude of sins--including garish orange. i mockingly asked j(wh) if he liked my ridiculously orange slippers, to which he replied (with a snort):

"those are genuine muppet skin!"

and that is one of many reasons he's so wonderful.

weird.

sitting in jack-in-the-box. on the internet. feels very strange for a fast food restaurant to have free wireless access. i foresee future visits, though i think they'll involved more diet coke or dr. pepper than food. the food is lousy. but the internet--it's great. no matter how weird.

doctors.

so it's been more than a week that i've been coughing. and the cough doesn't seem to be going away. no matter how diligently i ply it with robitussin or how may hours of sleep i get (8+ the last three nights; heavenly). i'm even enduring a kissing-fast in an effort not to re-infect j(wh) (who seems to actually be getting better). for obvious reasons, i'm ready to stop coughing.

so this morning when i laid in bed hacking and then kept hacking through present-wrapping and email-checking, in spite of my robitussin-taking (i apparently have a thing for hyphens today), i thought i'd best go see a doctor. because maybe my less-cheery friends and family who keep telling me it's walking pneumonia or whooping cough (thanks deborah) may be right. and i actually articulated that thought--that i should go to the doctor--to j(wh). if i hadn't, i probably wouldn't have actually found the info about same-day appointments for grad students or made the phone call or found my insurance card so i could actually go see the doctor. he prodded until i made the call. which is a good thing. and here's why.

in my family, we have an inherent distrust of doctors. well, our parents do anyway. and the kids have inherited it a bit. we never had incredibly regular check-ups once we were older than 7 or 8 or so. doctors were people you saw when you had an emergency. which we did have. i broke my arm three times in 8 years. one of my brothers managed to get seven breaks all at once. and then there were all the various split chins, foreheads, and eyelids (yes, eyelids). and the BB's shot into fingers. and the fingers trimmed along with the hedges. so you see, we definitely know about emergencies and manage to trust doctors then. but for regular preventive health care? or for ordinary, run-of-the-mill sickness (more hyphens)? not so much. my parents have this weird phobia that going to the doctor will just make things worse.

an example. a few years ago my mom tripped and fell down about seven or eight stairs, landing on her head on the tile floor at the bottom. that was on friday evening. did she go to the doctor? after landing on tile on her head? no. of course not. why should she? it's just her head. my dad did take her to the doctor the next day, but still. and that's just one example. last year, my dad thought he had walking pneumonia. did he go to a doctor? no. he called a friend who happens to be an OB-GYN and talked him into prescribing antibiotics.

and then there are his ribs. which he thinks he cracked when he fell off his bike earlier this week. they hurt so bad that last night he grabbed his chest with a look of pain on his face. which naturally alarmed my mom and i, who immediately went into emergency mode. she was ready to run and catch him so he wouldn't fall and i was heading for the phone to call 911 as we asked what was wrong. his answer? 'i need to sneeze and it's going to hurt!' but of course he won't go to the doctor to find out if his ribs are actually broken or not. he just says they can't do anything about it so why go?

and that about sums up my parents' attitude about doctors. they can't make it better. and they'll probably make it worse. so why go? and i've managed to inherit a bit of that attitude. but apparently being able to kiss j(wh) again is a good enough reason to send me off to the doctor. that and shaking the cough, of course.