Oysters, Caves and Robin Williams

There are two kinds of feelings.  (Ok, there are more than two, but for the purposes of this blog there are only two today).  The first is that the world is your oyster.  By the way, what does that even mean?  I mean, I know what it MEANS, but what are they talking about?  I assume it has something to do with pearls.  But, am I the only one who hears that expression and thinks "I don't want my life to be a disturbingly veiny booger like mollusk."

It doesn't matter anyway, pearls or boogers aside, my world isn't an oyster today.  My world is the cave of wonders in Aladdin. Now, stick with me here... its not that much of a stretch. 

"Only one may enter!"  "Touch nothing but the lamp!"

My life feels like the cave of wonders.  I have a goal at the end of the cave.  I have to navigate my way to it, with out getting distracted by all the shiny's.  There are several paths to take, and most of them would probably lead some place cool, but I need to choose the right one in order to get the lamp at the end. I also have a money hungry asshole monkey sidekick, who may or may not screw everything up at any moment. At this point I am SO close!  I mean, it is RIGHT there!  I can see it!  I just have to hop over a few stones, and climb a hill and I HAVE it.  But... Those stones are looking pretty far apart, and it is a pretty damn steep hill.  I've navigated my way through all the shiny's to get here, but, this might be the toughest part.  And who knows when some asshole is going to throw a wrench into everything and pick up the freaking ruby. 

So, I am hopping over the stones, one by one. Good grades... Hop! Volunteer work.... Hop! Interview for a research assistant job... Hop! Good relationships with peers and employers.... Hop, hop!  I have a few more stones to jump over, then a hefty trudge up a hill, then I am there!  Graduation! Denver! Grad school! But so much is still out of my control.  I don't get to decide when and where someone else is going to pocket a ruby and piss off the cave. 

So, lets say the trudge up the hill goes perfectly!  No one pisses off the cave, and I reach the lamp.  Its mine!  Sort of... I still need to get out of the stupid cave.  I have to navigate my way out, taking the right path, and not getting distracted.  And who knows what distractions await me on the way back, I might have missed something really cool on the way in.  We all know I have shiny object syndrome, the worst place to have that is in the god damn cave of wonders!  And when I do get out of the cave, there is probably going to be a wizard in drag trying to take my hard earned lamp.  There is always a wizard in drag.

So, I have all these things in the cave of wonders, all of these decisions to make!  And I am the only one allowed in the cave.  So, its all on me.  Don't get me wrong, I have the monkey, a magic carpet and Robin Williams for support, but I am calling all the shots.  So if I make a bonehead move, my support system will be there, but I still am responsible for finding my own way out of the cave. 

Moral of the story?  It's crunch time folks.

Epiphany Tuesday

I just made that up... but I did have an epiphany today.  Not the "heavens open up and angels sing" kind, more like the "way to shoot yourself in the foot" kind. Brace yourselves kids, I am going to write about the ex.

Actually that is a lie, I am not writing about the ex, I am writing about the gym. The thing is, until today, those two things were linked in my mind.

When we first started going out, the gym was our thing.  But over the next 2 year, the gym took over our relationship.  I have always said, you can only do 3 things 100%. We both had work and school, leaving room for one more thing... I chose him... he chose the gym. So I started to resent the time we spent there.  We never saw each other during the week, and Sunday was our homework day, and he never slept over... so we had Friday night, and Saturday.  And he wanted to spend 2+ hours at the gym on friday nights. And that was the issue, I think.  We couldn't just go and bust it out in an hour... when we went to the gym, we were there for hours, it was never enough. And over the years, the gym and the ex and eventually resentment became linked in my mind.

After a break up, most people hit the gym hard, in order to get hot, in an "eat your heart out, loser, this is what you're missing" kind of way.  I couldn't do that. At first, I couldn't go to the gym because I was convinced I would run into him there. When I went, I was on the lookout for him. I spent time trying to anticipate what hours he would be there, and avoided those hours. And I just couldn't bring myself to go, on the off chance I would see him there. The problem was, even after I stopped caring whether I saw him or not, unconsciously I still associated the gym with resentment, in an Ugh, I don't want to go to the gym way.  The thing I forgot about though, is I LOVE the gym. I love the way I feel after I work out. Before the ex was a part of my life, I was at the gym all the time, but for ME, not to spend time with him.

Went to the gym today, and for the first time in a long time, it was about me.  And it felt GOOD.  My arms are jelly and that makes me feel great. The gym is mine again.

I do what I want.... veggies!!!

So skinny, I was!!!  (Yoda... wait, would yoda say "was I,"?  I've never seen star wars)



So... I think at some point I promised to be funny in this blog... This post isn't going to be funny, but its my blog, I make the rules!


I am in a never ending battle with my weight.  Now let me explain.  It's not one of the mentally unhealthy ones, where I am constantly berating myself and looking in the mirror and hating things... I just really love food.  I like myself, I like my body, I like my shape... I just want there to be less of it.  I know how to do it, I have done it before, and I am going to do it again.

I will say, it is ALOT easier to eat healthy when I am at home!  Since I quit my grown up job, I have probably cut about 1000 calories a day on average!  Things are going well, gotta get my ass to the gym though.

I have made the courageous (JK) decition, to not count my veggies towards the total calorie count. I know, I am so brave... jk.  I just think the benefits outweigh the calories, and its a pain in the ass to track anyway. I do count fruit though, because sweet = sugar.  I also track the shit I put on my veggies to make them taste better.  And let me tell you my favorite snack!

Cut up carrots... I don't like the baby carrots...they are wet and juicy in a way carrots shouldnt be... plus buying sticks of carrots and peeling and cutting them yourself is far cheaper.

The money I save on carrots I apply to english cucumber... they are so much better than regular cucumbers.

Grape tomatoes!

Then I make a veggie dip, I got this idea from a co-worker, (thanks Jodi), and have made it my own.

This makes 10 servings...

16 oz lowfat Cottage cheese
10-16 oz (depending on the consistency you like) nonfat sour cream (get the brand with the black and white cow spot design!)
1 packet of ranch mix ( I like hidden valley buttermilk ranch mix)

Dump it all in a tupperware and mix.... tada, veggie dip to make all those fibrous carrots worth it... works out to be about 125 calories per serving, and the protein from the cottage cheese keeps me fuller longer.

I know I know... where is all the funny commentary about dating/boys/work??  I will do that next time.  This is important too, and I think I am going to start adding posts like this every so often.  We all want to lose a few at some point I think.  And "saying" it helps keep me on track, since I refuse to be the "I am so fat" woman, I don't talk about what kind of food choices I make or don't make as a rule. But I am conscious of it, so I am putting it out there that I am officially trying to get healthier.  Notice I didn't say lose weight, that is a side effect of being healthy. One of the last patients I had in my office before I quit my job was a 60 year old man, who was on constant oxygen, and the walk from the lobby to my office caused him to become so winded he was wheezing... I don't want to be that man in 30 years.