5:30am. Post pee. Pre shower. There it was, sitting in the corner of the bathroom. Black . Shiny. Staring me down. Tempting me to step on and see the results. The results of living, eating and boozing in Chicago for the past 4 months. I got up the courage, clicked it on with my toe and took the step.
One small step for men, a giant leap for women.
They say the scale doesn't lie. And, to my dismay, I'm pretty sure that the fancy do-dad one at my parents' house doesn't either. Needless to say, it wasn't what I wanted to see on an early Monday morning. The three numbers that glared at me in neon blue were not the three numbers I have become accustomed to. Nor were they any three numbers that I have seen together from the scale in...never. I am at my heaviest. My heaviest ever.
Although the number on the scale shocked me, I can't say that I'm really all that shocked that I've gained weight. I have noticed things getting "soft". My jeans, a little tighter. My swim suit bottoms, providing a little less coverage. My boobs, totally swollen and huge (perhaps there is a perk!). I just didn't realize HOW MUCH weight. We're looking at about 8lbs since I've moved. And I know why (don't we all?!?): I've slacked both with food & the gym. And I gave myself excuses to not feel bad for it. Well, at least excuses during the moment of consumption.
i live in denial. I know that eating cookies is not a good thing. But I tell myself that I can have one - or three* - because I never get the opportunity eat cookies. Or I'll go out to lunch and instead of getting a salad, I have to get my favorite dish - because I never get to go to [insert restaurant] so I have to get my favorite meal. Or I'll eat the fries - because (you guessed it), I never get to have the fries.
Sad face.
The truth of the matter is this: crap food surrounds me at work. And if by some chance it isn't around, I got into a bad habit of hitting up the vending machine. And since I don't buy sweets or chips for the apartment the cravings tend to be 10x worse when I'm out and about. Perhaps that fuels the "but I never" mentality.
Oh but there are others too, the "day is shot, so I might as well continue the gluten train" mentality, or the "I have plans (dinner/drinks) later so I might as well start now", or the "its the weekend" mentality.** Whatever fits my mood that day really.
In addition to all of that - she types as she waves her arms around in silent disgust - I have also convinced myself that I haven't had a chance to establish a good workout routine. Granted it took me 2 months to actually get a gym membership [insert moving excuse here]. Then, when I finally did, I worked out several days a week for 2weeks. Then I started to work out a couple of days every two weeks. And its gone down since then.
The most shocking thing of all is that when I finally make it to the gym, and its all said and done, I.LOVE.IT. I love it. I get energized and plan out the rest of my week around the gym.
But, I am very good at convincing myself to not make it to the gym. Its not my fault that I don't have a stable gym buddy [excuse]. And that I'm not used to my new gym's layout [excuse]. And that it rains [excuse]. Or its sunny [excuse]. Or that the commute makes me crabby [excuse]. Or that I don't have cute work out clothes [excuse]. And my gym shoes are old [excuse]. Or that I'm hungry, tired, want to watch TV [excuse, excuse, excuse].
Apparently, I've just been a whiny bitch about it for the past 4 months.
I've been trying - loosely - to turn it around. The plan now is to actually try. I'm usually a pretty fit and sensible eater. I need to get back to that. Fast.
Luckily the bridesmaid dress for the wedding this weekend still fits.
Unluckily I will be surrounded by delicious food and cocktails. Not to mention its a holiday weekend.
I think I'll start trying next Tuesday.
[EXCUSE]***
*Confession: The 3 cookies are more like 5 some days
**That one is a killer
***And probably one I'll stick to this week
Monday, August 31, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
365
It dawned on me on my drive into work this morning that it has been a year since things ended with the ex. An entire year. 365 days. Holidays. Weddings. Births. Vacations. Moving. All done on my own. Without him. And I survived.
[Insert Pat-On-The-Back Here]
In retrospect the ex and I had a great relationship. We got along really well. We had fun adventures. Went on a lot of vacations. Attended dozens of concerts per year. It was fun. Easy. We never fought - not once that I can remember. But on the other hand our relationship slowly slipped into friendship only. By the time things were ended, we were having sex maybe once per month and barely kissing or touching sensually. The months leading up to the break I'd try to convince myself that the lack of the physical stuff was because we were both living at home and had no where to comfortably do what we wanted. I could no longer handle sexing in back seats of cars, or forest preserves, or parks any more. It was mundane. Annoying.
The break-up was not a surprise. I feel as if we both were ready for it. He was just the one to pull the trigger. I had considered doing it myself several times last summer. But there was always something holding me back. A wedding. A birthday. A holiday. A vacation. I would think "well I would break up with him, but now is not the time...my birthday is next week" or "its BABs wedding" or "we're going on vacation". You get the picture. It was always "the next week" when I would address it.
Don't get me wrong, it was sad. I cried on his parent's couch when we called it quits. I cried that night. And I have cried on occasion since. But it isn't the "woe is me" crying. It has been tears for what used to be. We were mostly happy, even if we knew the end was near. The week after the break up I was relieved. I felt like a weight had been taken off my chest and I could breath again. It was the right thing for the both of us. Then and now.
365 days of singlehood. 365 days of rediscovery. 365 days of me.
Oh how the time flies...
[Insert Pat-On-The-Back Here]
In retrospect the ex and I had a great relationship. We got along really well. We had fun adventures. Went on a lot of vacations. Attended dozens of concerts per year. It was fun. Easy. We never fought - not once that I can remember. But on the other hand our relationship slowly slipped into friendship only. By the time things were ended, we were having sex maybe once per month and barely kissing or touching sensually. The months leading up to the break I'd try to convince myself that the lack of the physical stuff was because we were both living at home and had no where to comfortably do what we wanted. I could no longer handle sexing in back seats of cars, or forest preserves, or parks any more. It was mundane. Annoying.
The break-up was not a surprise. I feel as if we both were ready for it. He was just the one to pull the trigger. I had considered doing it myself several times last summer. But there was always something holding me back. A wedding. A birthday. A holiday. A vacation. I would think "well I would break up with him, but now is not the time...my birthday is next week" or "its BABs wedding" or "we're going on vacation". You get the picture. It was always "the next week" when I would address it.
Don't get me wrong, it was sad. I cried on his parent's couch when we called it quits. I cried that night. And I have cried on occasion since. But it isn't the "woe is me" crying. It has been tears for what used to be. We were mostly happy, even if we knew the end was near. The week after the break up I was relieved. I felt like a weight had been taken off my chest and I could breath again. It was the right thing for the both of us. Then and now.
365 days of singlehood. 365 days of rediscovery. 365 days of me.
Oh how the time flies...
Monday, August 24, 2009
FALLing
A typical Chicago summer: hot, sticky and a muggy mess. Usually. Luckily (or unluckily - ?) for us this year global warming, or the shifting of the seasons, or whateveryouwanttocallit has given us a mostly pleasant - albeit at times a relatively cool and rainy - summer. We just hit 90degrees a couple of weeks ago for the first time this summer that included the dreaded heat index of 100degrees+. For the first time. In August. Granted this only lasted 2days before the weather plummeted (ok, it wasn't that dramatic) to a mere 75degrees again.
All I was looking forward to last week was a nice afternoon at the beach on Saturday. I checked the forecast daily, hourly at times, just to be sure I would be getting the sun I so craved. At the beginning of the week it was a projected sunny, 76degrees. Then on Thursday it was supposed to be sunny 70degrees. Still doable. If it is really sunny.
Since I'm sin-Internet at the apartment now, I decided to risk a visit to the beach Saturday. I was up early and the sun was out. I pulled on my swim suit, loaded up my back pack and jumped on my bike. The ride was fantastic. It was warm. Sunny. And city seemed to have a sparkle to it. It was clear skies with beautiful sailboats sprinkled across the glimmering blue lake.
After a little exercise riding the LSD bike path, I found my way to North Avenue beach. Locked up the old stallion then made my way onto the sand. I was all set up: shoes & cover up off, towel out, book in hand, iPod set to Eric Clapton Unplugged. Then the sun disappeared. And the breeze kicked into high gear. It was 11:15am.
I looked around. The beach wasn't empty but it wasn't littered with people either. There were girls in their bikinis. Guys in only their swim trunks. I wasn't the only one out there. As I laid there, unable to concentrate on my book - due to my convulsions from the cold - I watched the sky. Dark heavy clouds sat over the lake and outstretched past the once beautiful skyline. The buildings looked dark and ominous. The lake no longer held its sparkle. It became frigid and uninviting. It was 11:30am.
I flipped onto my stomach in an attempt to settle back into my book. To keep my eyes off the sky. A silent prayer in my heart for sun. If only there was sun I could take the cold breeze that kick up from the lake. Goose bumps covered my arms and legs. The shivers became more frequent. Groups of girls were throwing in the towel and leaving. I shifted my gaze up. The sky had not changed for the better. It was darker, spreading its reach even further. It was 12noon.
I was done. The cold. The possibility of rain. The idea of a 20min bike ride back to my apartment and warmth got the best of me. I packed up. Jumped on the bike and headed home. I rode past several signs which stated the time and temp. 65degrees. At 12noon. In the summer. The entire 6mile ride didn't even shake the chills out of my system. It took a hot shower to turn my lips back to its rosy color versus the blue that had settled in.
The weather never became the sunny skies that was promised. The summer weather that I am craving has been infrequent - or at least not falling on my days off. I can take a page from the past several years and expect that summer weather - the 90s & 100s that I'm craving now - to come in September and October.
October has become notoriously and record breakingly hot. And sticky. And a muggy mess. Anyone that has run the Chicago Marathon can attest to this. But by then I'm ready for the beautiful fall weather. Comfortable. Cool. With the skyline ablaze with reds, oranges, and yellows. I love the changing seasons - Fall being my favorite. This weekend was just a reminder of how the seasons have changed or shifted or whateveryouwanttocallit. Is it too much to ask that summer remain summer, and fall remain fall? I suppose so...
All I was looking forward to last week was a nice afternoon at the beach on Saturday. I checked the forecast daily, hourly at times, just to be sure I would be getting the sun I so craved. At the beginning of the week it was a projected sunny, 76degrees. Then on Thursday it was supposed to be sunny 70degrees. Still doable. If it is really sunny.
Since I'm sin-Internet at the apartment now, I decided to risk a visit to the beach Saturday. I was up early and the sun was out. I pulled on my swim suit, loaded up my back pack and jumped on my bike. The ride was fantastic. It was warm. Sunny. And city seemed to have a sparkle to it. It was clear skies with beautiful sailboats sprinkled across the glimmering blue lake.
After a little exercise riding the LSD bike path, I found my way to North Avenue beach. Locked up the old stallion then made my way onto the sand. I was all set up: shoes & cover up off, towel out, book in hand, iPod set to Eric Clapton Unplugged. Then the sun disappeared. And the breeze kicked into high gear. It was 11:15am.
I looked around. The beach wasn't empty but it wasn't littered with people either. There were girls in their bikinis. Guys in only their swim trunks. I wasn't the only one out there. As I laid there, unable to concentrate on my book - due to my convulsions from the cold - I watched the sky. Dark heavy clouds sat over the lake and outstretched past the once beautiful skyline. The buildings looked dark and ominous. The lake no longer held its sparkle. It became frigid and uninviting. It was 11:30am.
I flipped onto my stomach in an attempt to settle back into my book. To keep my eyes off the sky. A silent prayer in my heart for sun. If only there was sun I could take the cold breeze that kick up from the lake. Goose bumps covered my arms and legs. The shivers became more frequent. Groups of girls were throwing in the towel and leaving. I shifted my gaze up. The sky had not changed for the better. It was darker, spreading its reach even further. It was 12noon.
I was done. The cold. The possibility of rain. The idea of a 20min bike ride back to my apartment and warmth got the best of me. I packed up. Jumped on the bike and headed home. I rode past several signs which stated the time and temp. 65degrees. At 12noon. In the summer. The entire 6mile ride didn't even shake the chills out of my system. It took a hot shower to turn my lips back to its rosy color versus the blue that had settled in.
The weather never became the sunny skies that was promised. The summer weather that I am craving has been infrequent - or at least not falling on my days off. I can take a page from the past several years and expect that summer weather - the 90s & 100s that I'm craving now - to come in September and October.
October has become notoriously and record breakingly hot. And sticky. And a muggy mess. Anyone that has run the Chicago Marathon can attest to this. But by then I'm ready for the beautiful fall weather. Comfortable. Cool. With the skyline ablaze with reds, oranges, and yellows. I love the changing seasons - Fall being my favorite. This weekend was just a reminder of how the seasons have changed or shifted or whateveryouwanttocallit. Is it too much to ask that summer remain summer, and fall remain fall? I suppose so...
Friday, August 21, 2009
Momma Didn't Raise No Fool
Over the past month I have had my fair share of opportunity to think. Imagine what one person could get done during a male dry spell! Really, its amazing. Although I have no actual hard set goals - mine remain soft and fluffy, likely to be molded into something new again - I did elude to the fact that I have made several revelations on what I want. And I have. Kinda-sorta. And most of it is shallow. So don't hate. In no particular order, here are the things that I have decided on or realized.
I am ready for a boyfriend. Yes. An actual real life boyfriend! One that wants to hang out with regularity. And meet my friends. And go out on dates on Friday nights. And celebrate birthdays and holidays with. Yes, that kind of boyfriend. On the same token I'm not in any rush. You won't see me running to set up a profile on Match.com or Craig's List (ew!) any time soon. I figure it will happen when it happens.
I am not ready to stop hanging out with #2 & C. At least not yet. You might think that is contradictory to the above but really, its not. I'm in no particular rush to have a boyfriend and I am perfectly happy being single (minus the occasional instances when I self-pity and loathe it. Give me a break, its wedding season after all). I just know that I am ready - able - capable - to have a boyfriend or something more serious. But momma didn't raise no fool. I know where my bread is buttered so until Mr. Boyfriend comes around I'll keep with Plan B & Plan C for a bit longer.
I am dangerously coming close to falling for C. Yea. Again, contradictory to above statement, right? Totally. However, in my defense I have also realized that I will no longer initiate contact with him. At least for a while. S has heard this multiple times per week for the past several weeks but I'm really trying. But its hard since I like him. And I know he likes me. And besides all the b.s. he is exactly like a boyfriend when we hang out. Which is confusing. So I will be weaning myself off him, at least on my end. A little hard to get never hurt.
I need to start running. Again. But become better than I was at it before. I have found the gorgeous people. They flock to LSD after work to run. The men with their shirts off and 6-packs rippling. The ladies with virtuously no body fat. I used to be more - how should I put this - firm (I guess). Now I'm pretty soft and fluffy. This week I have attempted to get back into the swing of things. And it almost worked. Thank God for OnDemand Exercise channel. I think I'll be back in a routine by next week.
I eat too much. Its because I'm bored. I'm bored at work. The claims just aren't coming in. Since I do worker's compensation the economy is having a direct effect on my job too. Less workers = less accidents. Lay offs = less reporting of accidents. Things have been very slow. I completed a "special project" and even visited a client to discuss a particular claim. So I eat. This place is chock-full of free stuff. And I tend to take walks to the local Starbucks for my 3pm cookie. Thankfully that has stopped. But I am eating Swedish Fish like its going out of style. Then when I go home, after dinner there is nothing left to do. So I'll snack. Or drink a beer solo. Again, this week I've been trying to curb those bad habits so hopefully they are kicked by next week.
I think that is the majority of things that have been spinning around this noggin of mine. Now I am ready for the weekend. SO ready. I have worked 4 Fridays in a row! I know, I'm complaining about virtually nothing in most people's eyes. But at this company we only work every other Friday (we work really long hours to make up that time for our off Friday). My entire routine, with work & at home, is so scewed that I feel like I'm drowning in a never ending Groundhog's Day. Luckily I just worked my last Friday for three weeks. For three glorious weeks I can kick back on Fridays! Oh I am so excited. I feel like this work rut will finally work itself out and I'll be on the straightened arrow. And saner. And happier in the office. And happier at home.
Tootles!
I am ready for a boyfriend. Yes. An actual real life boyfriend! One that wants to hang out with regularity. And meet my friends. And go out on dates on Friday nights. And celebrate birthdays and holidays with. Yes, that kind of boyfriend. On the same token I'm not in any rush. You won't see me running to set up a profile on Match.com or Craig's List (ew!) any time soon. I figure it will happen when it happens.
I am not ready to stop hanging out with #2 & C. At least not yet. You might think that is contradictory to the above but really, its not. I'm in no particular rush to have a boyfriend and I am perfectly happy being single (minus the occasional instances when I self-pity and loathe it. Give me a break, its wedding season after all). I just know that I am ready - able - capable - to have a boyfriend or something more serious. But momma didn't raise no fool. I know where my bread is buttered so until Mr. Boyfriend comes around I'll keep with Plan B & Plan C for a bit longer.
I am dangerously coming close to falling for C. Yea. Again, contradictory to above statement, right? Totally. However, in my defense I have also realized that I will no longer initiate contact with him. At least for a while. S has heard this multiple times per week for the past several weeks but I'm really trying. But its hard since I like him. And I know he likes me. And besides all the b.s. he is exactly like a boyfriend when we hang out. Which is confusing. So I will be weaning myself off him, at least on my end. A little hard to get never hurt.
I need to start running. Again. But become better than I was at it before. I have found the gorgeous people. They flock to LSD after work to run. The men with their shirts off and 6-packs rippling. The ladies with virtuously no body fat. I used to be more - how should I put this - firm (I guess). Now I'm pretty soft and fluffy. This week I have attempted to get back into the swing of things. And it almost worked. Thank God for OnDemand Exercise channel. I think I'll be back in a routine by next week.
I eat too much. Its because I'm bored. I'm bored at work. The claims just aren't coming in. Since I do worker's compensation the economy is having a direct effect on my job too. Less workers = less accidents. Lay offs = less reporting of accidents. Things have been very slow. I completed a "special project" and even visited a client to discuss a particular claim. So I eat. This place is chock-full of free stuff. And I tend to take walks to the local Starbucks for my 3pm cookie. Thankfully that has stopped. But I am eating Swedish Fish like its going out of style. Then when I go home, after dinner there is nothing left to do. So I'll snack. Or drink a beer solo. Again, this week I've been trying to curb those bad habits so hopefully they are kicked by next week.
I think that is the majority of things that have been spinning around this noggin of mine. Now I am ready for the weekend. SO ready. I have worked 4 Fridays in a row! I know, I'm complaining about virtually nothing in most people's eyes. But at this company we only work every other Friday (we work really long hours to make up that time for our off Friday). My entire routine, with work & at home, is so scewed that I feel like I'm drowning in a never ending Groundhog's Day. Luckily I just worked my last Friday for three weeks. For three glorious weeks I can kick back on Fridays! Oh I am so excited. I feel like this work rut will finally work itself out and I'll be on the straightened arrow. And saner. And happier in the office. And happier at home.
Tootles!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The McRib is Back! Or Rather, I am
Whoa its been about a month since my last post. And I haven’t even entered the blogosphere since. Until today. The reasoning for not blogging is beyond me. I forgot. I got busy. I lost my free Internet connection. I became boring.
That’s right. I did. For some reason my life has taken a major turn for the boring. At least during the weekdays. Which is exactly when I was doing most of my blogging. I have no salacious details to tell. No events that I attended. Nothing boy worthy at least. I’ve been a bore. Working. Eating. Drinking with friends on the weekend.
Here is the update:
ON C
We’ve hung out several times the past month – maybe like 4. We haven’t really spoken about our current relationship status – if 20 something even do that anymore, I’m not even sure. He had a birthday. Which did not include me in any of the celebrations. He had plans with other friends. Boys only. I did give him the best gift ever though. And no, it wasn’t sex (although we did have sex). The movie “The Dark Crystal” and matzo brittle. Which HE LOVED. C just seems to be trying to move up the ladder at work so he is putting that on pretty thick with me. I get it. You don’t want a girlfriend. You apparently don’t have time. Well don’t come crying to me about how much you like me at 2am you flipping booty call a-hole. Ok, he’s not. But there was about a 3wk stint where he would be no contact then 2am calls after bar close. I never answered. Booty calls are tacky.
On #2
Well. I’m still not sure what went down at the Billy Joel/Elton concert. But I heard from him about 2wks ago. We went out last week for dinner and picked up back where we were. He actually is taking the G-MAT over Labor Day weekend then jetting off to Europe for a 2wk vacation so I probably won’t hear from him for another month or so. Which is fine. #2 is the like the reoccurring rebound guy. He’s fun. He pays. Good in bed. No strings attached.
On Logan
I mentioned him I think once. We went out after a drunken meeting several weeks back. It was a good time but nothing I was excited about. However I think I made quite the impression on him. He has been trying really hard to hang out but I just haven’t been able to make it work. And I have to admit I really didn’t put much effort into it. I think he got the hint. Finally.
On Weddings
Things are ramping up for the weddings! Rose is getting married in about 2weeks and S just had her bachelorette party last weekend. I picked up both of my bridesmaid dresses which shockingly do not have to be altered! It’s a financial miracle. And as a co-party planner for S’s party I am happy to say that it went swimmingly! A trolley pub crawl starting at our 2 bedroom suite in downtown Chicago & ending up at a 80s hole in the wall bar at 2am was like bachelorette party heaven. Even though I dropped a case of beer earlier in the evening, things worked out just fine. The wedding invites have come in and gone out. I’m flying solo to both. No need to bring a guy because 1) I don’t have one to bring, 2) I’m in the wedding so I don’t really need one. This year there are more people engaged or married so I will likely be the only one (with HLo at least) standing on the dance floor for the bouquet toss. But hey! The bright side is that I can do what I want. Fingers crossed for single 20somethings!
So that is the mini update. Work has been slow so I will write tomorrow too. I have had quite a few revelations the past month which I guess I could share. Or not. or maybe I’ll get an invite to hang out tonight which could lead to saucy shenanigans!
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