Life Is Waiting For You, So Messed Up But We're Alive

Consistency will clearly never be my forte when it comes to blogging. Or weight loss. Or my goal list...

I don't even know where to start, since I feel like I've glossed over many details even since we moved.

Long story short: I just kept gaining weight. And my goal list was for the most part ignored; I don't know that I'll finish it.

Right now, I would love to see 202. (I saw 215 yesterday). I did get an LTO for Sept-Dec, teaching science (which I never have in a regular semester) and it was pure insanity. I loved the experience, but it was the most challenging job I've had. I was exhausted and at a full blown sprint for 4 months. I'm still decompressing, and it was over a week ago. I had no time to meal plan or prep, and I know that that is definitely not just an excuse this time. But of course that meant I ate. And I was stressed and overwhelmed, so I ate even more. And I definitely did not exercise.

There was no time to do anything for myself. My evenings and weekends consisted of lesson planning and marking. Doing anything for pleasure or for my own well-being was pretty much not an option. So my poor goal list sat untouched for the last few months. At one point I sat down with Nick to review and revise some of the goals, particularly the weight related ones, since they were now impossible to complete by the February deadline (that is VERY quickly approaching... I haven't had time to stop and think about how I feel about that). I'm really torn at this point; there is no possible way I can finish everything left in two months (and I have a 1 month supply job already lined up for January). I don't like changing the goals to something easier just so I can finish it, but I can't stand the idea of not finishing. That's my next thing on my list of to-do's, figuring out what to do about that...

For now I'm just trying to organize the chaos in the house post-Christmas, post-LTO insanity. I feel like after focusing so intently on teaching for several months, I've developed a bit of ADD; I can't focus on one thing for too long it seems lately. I'm restless and can't sit still and just finish something. I hope I snap out of that soon; I honestly do want to get my goal list. I actually have a bag of library books, all classics, but they aren't very appealing and I have little desire to read them. But I'll have to see what I do with my list...

It's a good thing 2014 is coming soon; 2013 has been a whirlwind of good things, but the chaos has been insane. Maybe we will have a quieter year this next spin around the sun?

Look At The Stars, Look How They Shine For You

I always love looking for the Big Dipper, and when possible Orion's Belt. It just seems so neat to be able to see things in the night sky. I remember doing a speech on astrological signs in elementary school; I was mostly intrigued by the stars, not so much the predictions that supposedly come with it.

I found several books at the library, and our first venture out was somewhat successful but took a lot of effort. Despite being late May, it was freezing (we had winter jackets on!) and although the book I had with us was fantastic, it still wasn't terribly easy to locate certain stars. that night we managed to find two constellations, Leo and Bootes.

For a while, the weather wasn't terribly cooperative for clear skies, plus that first night the moon was full and bright. I eventually downloaded Google Sky Map, and it is an amazing app. Wherever you aim your phone, it shows you the sky, including constellations and planets. It was so incredibly easy to use, and once we got down to the water, we were quickly finding tons of constellations in the sky.

I absolutely loved being able to find them again and again as I looked up. It feels pretty cool to look up and connect to something so massive in the universe.

Tell Me Why, Or Do You Know, How Stars Can Fall From Above

I'm fighting today. I am trying really hard to write instead of giving in to a craving.

I'm fine through most of the day, but when school is done, the food thoughts start to creep in. It didn't help that someone in the workroom had a burger after 4th period, the smell completely permeated the room, and all I could think about was food.

I had a pit stop to make on the way home, so I started thinking about what food places where nearby, wondering what could I stop and get. I realized (and not necessarily for the first time either) that whenever I go out somewhere, I associate it with getting food. It doesn't matter what the errand is, or where it takes me, I figure I should get a snack/treat while I'm out. I don't really know where that habit originated from, but it's a deep one now. And not a good one. It's a good thing I don't shop often, and try to get as much done in one go as I can.

Even as I drive, I'm taken by the slightest suggestion; there's a pizza commercial on the radio, guess what I want for dinner now. I start picturing my fridge and cupboards, debating on whether I stop to get something, maybe just at the grocery store. Taking a certain route home gives me different options, so I start picturing the bakery and what treats they might have today. (This descriptive narration is not helping at the moment...)

I did start to wonder if maybe I haven't eaten enough throughout the day; once I tallied, I realized I have probably eaten about 600 calories, less than even half of what I probably should eat in a day, and it's no wonder I'm hungry.

I managed to fight (almost literally) my way out of the kitchen with just a stick of gum, to at least get myself up to the computer. But I don't know if this is helping or just making me dream about what I would rather be doing in this moment.

Which we all know is eat.

However, I'm currently NOT eating, so I guess in that regard it's a win. But I am eventually going to have to move on and stop writing and do other things, then what? Do I just have to hope that by then the craving will be gone? And if this does work, what about next time, if there is no chance to intervene with a blog post?

And even if I managed to fight it off this time, in the scheme of things, I'm still going to eat 1000s of calories next time, so does it really matter? Does any of all this effort really matter? Because it feels like I have been fighting this forever, and I've basically gained 50 lbs over the last 10 years (roughly), so I'm not exactly headed in the right direction overall.

Nick thinks I am doomed to continue like this until I fix the emotional issues that are attached with my overeating. I agree with him entirely; the problem is, I have no idea how to fix it. (Well, other than therapy, which I mentioned yesterday isn't in the financial cards right now, so what other option do I have?)

All of this is just making me feel worse, for having screwed up so much in the past, for having so far to go when I look forward. I think of the progress I've made times before, and it seems so far away, and I worked so hard for it, yet I've just completely destroyed it. And yet that thought doesn't making eating right now seem any less appealing.

Food is my comfort, and I need that comfort right now, so it seems counter-intuitive to be running away from the thing that is going to make you feel better. But I have to think long-term, and hope that being miserable now (yes, not eating makes me miserable) makes me happy later. Seems like counting on something that may never happen. Although I guess that's what I've been doing for years anyway. I could have spent a year, not overeating, and I would be happy now, as opposed to spending the last 15 years fighting this, rather unsuccessfully.

And yet still, I'm not terribly motivated to get it right this time! It makes no sense! If it's making me feel this frustrated, this upset, this worthless, this desperate, why is all that not enough?? Why do I not want to change this, make it better? Why is 60 seconds of (albeit delicious) food worth the agony I go through on a daily basis?

Ok, I'm done. I feel like I'm going in useless circles. I think I'm ok as long as I stay upstairs, but as soon as I go downstairs to make dinner, who knows. I have to stop at the grocery store later, will I be able to resist buying something? I don't know. Why couldn't I be addicted to alcohol instead of food? At least alcohol you can completely eliminate, food I have to have, at least to some extent. Ok, I don't really wish I was an alcoholic, but this sucks. That's all I know right now.

Lonely As I Am Together We Cry

I feel like I have an ocean of things to say, and yet I have extreme writer's block. So I guess without all the fancy talk, here are the facts:

• I currently weigh 202.4 lbs. It's an improvement from the 207.8 I saw not too long ago, but it's still horrible.
• after a VERY long talk with Nick, I feel better and yet even more confused about where to go from here; tired of re-starting, tired of failing, tired of giving up, tired of giving in, yet not wanting to give up. It's exhausting
• I feel like I'm at a standstill. I don't have the resources to beat this thing (at this point, I think I need to see someone), and I don't have the money for any kind of therapy. So I can't do it alone, but I can't get to the help I need right now either, so what do I do for now? I'm in a holding pattern until that mystical day when I have medical coverage that might cover a psychiatrist/therapist visit, or at least a paycheck that can afford it. But until then... what am I suppose to do? Be frustrated every single day? Just hope for the best? 
• I hate seemingly knowing all the right answers to weight loss and yet not being able to follow through with actual action. How can you know how to do something and yet not be able to do it?
• I have little to no self-control when it comes to food.
• I have little to no self-control when it comes to making decisions about food. (and yes, I see those as two different things)
• School is going great, but it is VERY busy, so I am very overwhelmed, very stressed, and constantly thinking about work. Any time I get to relax, I feel like I should be doing something else, so it's not entirely relaxing and rejuvenating. Since school started, my dreams have been either work-related or they carry the same busy/stressed feeling so despite solid nights of sleep, I wake up feeling like I just put in another exhausting day overnight.
• I don't know how to stop feeling like I am just treading water.
• I feel like I know what my issues are, what old childhood problems started this whole mess of low self-esteem, and yet I can't seem to get past them.
• Will anything I do ever feel good enough? What is 'good enough'?
• Why do I torture myself? Why do I drag this out? Why can't I let myself believe that I actually do deserve to beat this?

Anyway, that doesn't seem to even scratch the surface of what's running through my head lately. But after a jar of Nutella in the last 24 hours and a few Drumsticks too many, plus a plate of nachos I certainly didn't need, I felt the need to get something off my chest. I'm also hoping I can find some small fraction of time each day to write, in hopes of turning to the keyboard instead of the fridge.

I Can Only Imagine What My Eyes Will See

I'm nervous.

Tomorrow is my first day at a new school.

Today I started getting myself back on track and off the binge.

I feel like I'm stepping through a door with very little idea of what's on the other side, but for some reason I have hope.

I feel like I will be crossing the threshold, stepping over the line between past mistakes and wrongs, and future promises and success.

Maybe I'll get it right this time.

My Eyes Will Do The Same, Every Day It Will Rain

Everyone knows that the book is always better than the movie. Always. Sometimes the movie does a pretty good job, but who are we kidding? The book wins every time. Some examples... the first couple of Harry Potter movies are very true to the books, good job. The movie Sundays At Tiffany's is a cute Christmas movie; the book happens in spring. Totally bizarre. (Also sucks when you saw the movie first, thought you were picking a Christmas book for your December book club, and it ends up as it did. Not that that happened.)

Out of this goal, Nick also gave me the suggestion to watch movies first more often, since after a spectacular book, the movie is most of the time a letdown. That way, so he says, you can enjoy the movie (rather than criticize every mistake) and then later enjoy the book even more. We'll see. I'm aiming to try that tactic with The Hunger Games; I've seen the movie, so we'll see how the book is. Once I finish this goal list of course.

Most of my combos, the movies did fairly well. Sometimes I wished they had picked different actors (*cough*Twilight*cough*), and sometimes I was really confused about the changes they made (The Lightning Thief had many; I cursed a lot during that one. The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, they changed siblings to step-siblings, no idea why). But overall, I wasn't too upset at any of the movie interpretations. But man what I wouldn't give to be able to do my own.

We'll All Meet Back At The Local Saloon

When I was about 12, I went to a summer day camp at a horse farm. We got to ride every day, and my horse for the week was beautiful, black with a white diamond on her nose, and her name was Tasha. Not only did I discover I was allergic to horses that week, I also found out that I loved them.

For the most part, I haven't been on a horse since. Part of my dream honeymoon included horseback riding on the beach, but that wasn't really an option at our Varadero resort, or anywhere nearby. The best I got was a short trail ride in the woods on what looked more like a sad cross between a donkey and a pony.

I was excited to ride again. It was a bit costly, but I found a package deal with the ropes course that had the ziplining, so it wasn't so bad.

Because there was only two of us and the guide, we got much longer than the 45 minutes we paid for, almost twice as long. The trail was beautiful, I had a very nice horse that was just the perfect balance of following the others while still doing what I asked. I was definitely getting a little sore by the last half hour or so, so I was ready to be done in that aspect, but it was so nice to just get out and ride. The two other ladies were nice, we chatted most of the way, although I did plenty of listening as usual. I didn't mind, I was just enjoying the time with the horse.

It's an expensive hobby (sport?), and I hope someday I can afford to go more often, because it's almost the perfect combination of time with an animal while being outdoors. Love it.

It Flew Away From Her Reach So She Ran Away In Her Sleep

I'm not gonna lie; ziplining was not the carefree adventure I was hoping it would be.

It took a while to find a decent place, although it has certainly become more popular in the last year or so. There are now several parks in Ontario, plus it's available at a water park too. When I first picked the goal, I think there was one, and I actually was hoping to go in New Brunswick while we visited Nick's sister two summers ago. But it turns out there is one 15 minutes from us, so that's where we ended up.

Like most of them, it was part of a ropes course. Cables and obstacles from tree to tree, way up in the air. I don't have a fear of heights, but I do have a fear of falling (and yes, there is a difference. I love being high up, I don't love the sensation of losing balance/control and falling).

We were strapped in securely into a harness, and we were always attached by at least one carabiner. But the obstacles were challenging. Some were just like walking a tightrope, others you had to navigate over wobbly logs, at one point we had to climb a dangling wall with a porcupine stencil as foot and hand grips. With the first course done, I had discovered that I did not have decent upper arm strength (ok, that wasn't new information), that some things are easier the taller you are (ok, again, nothing new), and that ziplining maybe wasn't really all that fun (ok, that part was new). Even though I was trying to do what we were told, I couldn't seem to steer properly, and the first zip, I hit the tree sideways and scratched up my arm a little. The problem was, I didn't know what I was doing wrong, so I didn't know how to fix it.

After the first course, part of me wanted to be done. It was scary than I expected. Actually, I hadn't expected it to be scary at all, but it was taking a lot of mental/emotional strength for me to get through it. It was physically hard, and I felt embarrassed that the big girl couldn't handle it. I did it of course, and I'm sure no one thought twice about me, but it was nerve-wrecking. But I'm stubborn and don't give up that easily, so I headed on to the next course. Where it all fell apart.

The obstacles were harder. Although I knew if I fell, it wouldn't be far, all I could think about was the humiliation and the pain of the harness yanking on me, plus the difficulty of having to pull myself back onto the course. I knew I wouldn't be the first, but I didn't want to be the catch of the day either. If staff had to come rescue you, you were grounded for good, no second chance.

The cables dug into my arms. I developed bruises on my upper arms and around my armpits from where the cables rubbed against me. And then came the next zip. I tried yet again to steer with no luck; I was heading into the platform completely backwards. I couldn't see the girl (staff) trying to hand me the rope, although I could hear her telling me to grab it. I reached around and slammed calf first into the platform. Not good. I also missed the rope, so I zipped back towards the middle of the cable. Once I stopped, I had to work my hand over hand back to the platform. Embarrassing, and physically challenging. I already was feeling lousy about myself, and it only got worse. The girl was rude with me, like it ruined her day because I missed the rope. I asked her what I was doing wrong, and all she could say was that made I wasn't doing it right. Well obviously. I was trying to do what they showed us in orientation, and it didn't seem to be working.

The course continued. The obstacles got tougher. I watched a 9 year old and his dad fly through the course no problem. I got shakier and more agitated. I did not like it at all. I was just about ready to call it quits after this second course, but there was still 3 more and I do not let myself give up easily.

Then we came to the third to last obstacle of the course. You had to reach out and grab a rope and swing yourself across to the next platform. For the first time, my feet would not be on a cable or log, I had to jump. Like Tarzan. Or George of the Jungle. Nick went first and threw the rope back to me (I couldn't even reach it otherwise). It took some deep breaths but eventually I jumped. I didn't make it.

I dangled between the two platforms. I tried to give myself momentum to swing back, but my carabiners were stuck on the cable and wouldn't let me swing further. I had to let go of the rope, so I flopped down, held on by two carabiners and my harness. I tried to reach either platform with my feet to kick off, but they were slightly above my legs, and I couldn't reach. I was embarrassed and humiliated and everything I didn't want to happen had happened. Two girls behind me were trying to give me suggestions (they were quite nice actually) and Nick was doing everything he could to reach out and pull me up. I kept trying to swing one way or the other, but there was too much weight on the carabiners, and they wouldn't budge. I finally got them to move enough so that I was closer to Nick's side (I didn't care that I was technically closer to the stating platform; I wasn't about to do that again). But even with him trying to help, I was hanging so much lower than the platform that it was difficult to get my feet on it and pull myself up. By this point, a staff member was working their way over to me; it couldn't get any worse. Just as she got to the platform, Nick pulled me up. It was everything I had not to burst into tears. I hurt in every way; physically and emotionally.

It probably was all of 1 minute, maybe two, but it felt like forever. Unless you've ever been the fat girl in an awkward situation, you probably don't understand. Perhaps I perpetuated it all, by fearing it so much, I may have subconsciously willed it to happen, the whole self-fulfilling prophecy and all. Either way, I scrambled my way through the last two obstacles (thankfully not too bad of ones), and was very happy to be back on the ground. And very happy to never climb up again. (Ok, maybe not never, but I was certainly done for the day).

With an ice pack on my massively swollen and bruised calf (it's been 18 days and I still can't cross my legs; the black and yellow has faded, but the road rash is still there, and I can't lean on it in any way), Nick finished the last two challenging courses; I did not mind sitting them out one bit.

The day was not a success for me. I tried to conquer a fear, but I think it beat me. I fear physical pain too much, but then add in the embarrassment factor, and it was just way too much for me. I don't even know if it's something I want to attempt to conquer in the future; I may be content just letting it go.

Tonight I Feel Ambitious And So Does My Foot As It Sinks On The Pedal

I actually Googled Chinese firedrill, to make sure we did it properly. Technically, it had to be 4 people and you had to run to opposite corners. Which meant I needed to involve two other people in my insanity.

I figured we could just cruise up to a quiet 4-way stop and swap. But Tammy* insisted it be at a red light. That made me nervous. (Was this even technically legal? lol)

Now Nick is notorious for hitting every single just-red light as we drive, every time. Yet of course on this particular night, we drove through town and back without hitting a single one. Every time we approached a light, we had fingers on our seat belts, ready to whip them off and run. But no luck. So we gave up (momentarily) and went for a walk. The way out of the park has a light, which we managed to hit red, so off we went! Three of us flew out of the car, I slammed dead on into Steve*, went into hysterics, then managed my way around to the other side of the car. Steve was in the driver's seat, seat belt on and putting the car into gear when we realized Nick was still standing at the back of the car. To which the rest of us realized the light we were waiting on was on a sensor and we hadn't tripped it, so we would be at this red light for quite some time. So we ran around the car again. No one really saw us, but it was fun.

I was pretty thrilled; I got to do it not once, but twice! And I laughed so hard I cried, mostly because I plowed head on into Steve; we had both tried to side step each other, but went the same way. I was thoroughly entertained. And I thought I was done.

The four of us went for ice cream, sat and chatted for a while, then headed home. With none of us prepared, we hit a red light at the busiest intersection in town, Nick threw the car into park and jumped out. The three of us quickly realized we had better follow suit, so off we went a third time. This time we were surrounded by cars (5 lanes at the light, in both directions!), not to mention people walking by. We could see and hear people laughing, and the girl crossing at the light repeatedly gave us a thumbs up. And again, we were in hysterics.

(ok, so the photo is completely staged. We had to do what we had to do =)


It strangely reminded me of our wedding day. Nick has the ability to do something totally unexpected to make my day. It rained the afternoon of our outdoor wedding, so as I left in the horse drawn carriage with my parents for a quick tour before making my entrance, I was fully prepared to walk into the indoor Plan B. But while we were gone, Nick saw the short window of rainless opportunity, had guests help wipe down all the chairs, and my dream wedding happened outdoors as I had hoped. But it was a total surprise when the carriage stopped and we were re-routed towards the deck instead of into the hall. But definitely a moment of truly loving the man in my life for working so hard to make me happy. (I also know it was a moment that earned him big brownie points in my Dad's book, for making my outdoor ceremony happen).

Ok, so a goofy Chinese firedrill isn't comparable to my wedding. But it was the sentiment behind it; Nick wanted it to be perfect for me, so without a word, he made it happen, to everyone's surprise. Perhaps small moments to the world, but big moments to me that show me how much he loves me.

Weren't expecting all that out of a silly car stunt, were you?

Is There Anyone Out There Cause It's Getting Harder And Harder To Breathe

My weight continues to creep up. It's sad, it's pathetic. I just don't understand. Well, obviously I understand why the number on the scale is going up; I'm not stupid and I know how much I'm eating, so the extra pounds aren't shocking. What I don't understand is how I can want something SO bad, and yet throw it all away for ice cream and donuts and chocolate. And repeat every single day.

Ok, maybe not every day, but enough that the balance is tipping in the wrong direction.

I don't know what to do. I've known all the right answers for years, and yet I'm still here. I know what to do, but my constant problem is actually doing it. I destroy myself along the way. I don't let myself have willpower, I don't let myself stay strong. I'm pretty sure I've written these exact words hundreds of times. It's a desperate circle.

This morning I noticed another change in my body, and not for the better. I already noticed a bulge in my upper thighs a couple of months ago, but today I noticed that my upper arm now bulges out beyond my elbow when I straighten my arms. These aren't exactly attractive new features.

You would think that these new and unappealing changes would be huge catalysts to get me to lose the weight. Yesterday I saw 204 lbs on the scale. It's devastating. I thought I would never let myself get over 200, but I pretty much have been all summer, really since we moved. Clothes don't fit, I feel uncomfortable, like I'm covered in never-ending rolls (I practically am). I feel like a balloon animal at the joints.

The funny thing is, I've still been exercising throughout the summer. I certainly wouldn't say consistently, but often enough. Even that doesn't encourage me to stick to better eating. Nothing does...

So as always, I don't know where to go from here. I want ice cream every night, but I don't want to weigh 200 lbs either. So far, ice cream keeps winning. And I don't know how to change that. I'm so frustrated, but for whatever reason, I apparently not willing to change.

I feel like I keep waiting for rock bottom, almost encouraging it, but nothing is ever low enough. Like that quote, "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk to blossom", I seem to be waiting for it to be painful enough, but it never seems to happen, so I am doomed to get fatter and never flower. Isn't this painful enough? Isn't the self-doubt, lack of self-confidence, tight clothing, unflattering silhouette, uncomfortable body movements, sometimes having a tough time squeezing into small bathroom stalls, out of breath after a short flight of stairs, thighs rubbing, shirts that don't fit my wide arms, stomach rolls, feeling completely unsexy, feeling literally heavy, sore knees, tight calves, weak biceps, bloated tummy, sugar headaches, lack of flexibility or coordination.... the list goes on... isn't all that enough?? What more do I need?

Why can't I just make the commitment to myself to do it, and stick with it? I guess that's really what it boils down to, and that has nothing to do with food, exercise or the scale...

You Could Resurrect A Thousand Words To Deceive Me

You know that awkward moment in a conversation when the other person used a word that you don't understand? Luckily (assumingly because I work with teenagers) that doesn't happen to me too often, but it could! I'm actually more likely to come across a new word in a book, or on TV (watch Dawson's Creek, its full of pretentious big words). So I signed up for a Word of the Day email and started a list of new words and their definitions.

I was pretty picky; I had to like the look and sound of the word, be able to pronounce it, and be a word I could actually potentially use. It was a cool learning experience, and I did add those words that I often struggle with (I could never remember what ubiquitous meant).

I don't know that I've managed to integrate all (or any) of those new words into my daily conversations; maybe that's a goal for my next list.

As I Recall I Think We Both Kinda Liked It

I felt like I was missing out on cultural references because I hadn't seen certain movies. I mean seriously, do you know how often Citizen Kane is referred to?? It's ridiculous. Just the other day, the guy on the radio was making a joke about Fast 6 and called it the Citizen Kane of 6th movies (it was the Edge, it's not exactly an intelligent station). And I'm pretty sure it's mentioned in Dawson's Creek at some point. So I felt like I wanted to be part of the crowd that actually understood all the references.

I still don't get all the Citizen Kane references though. It was an ok movie, ripe for analysis of symbolism. It must have been phenomenal when it was released because it didn't seem that spectacular now. But having seen it, I still feel like I'm missing the point. Maybe it's not so much the movie that people are always referring to, but the aura of it? The length of it, the awards it won? I don't know but at least I get the Rosebud references now =)

I also watched a Marilyn Munroe movie, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes; it nicely matched the biography of her I read.

I also threw in Breakfast At Tiffany's (not that exciting sadly), Psycho (kinda fun, plus I get Bates references now), and Carrie (yea for pig blood!).

I feel a bit more cultured now!

The Colors Conflicted As The Flames Climbed Into The Clouds

There's a scene in Surviving Christmas where a slightly neurotic Ben Affleck writes down all the moments in his life that wronged him and burned the list as a way to let go. It seemed like a therapeutic idea (plus it came from a Christmas movie, it had to be legit).

So I made the list and pinned it to our clothesline and brought out the lighter.

 

While I don't think I've forgotten the things I wrote, it did have a certain cathartic effect. And it looked cool; I like watching fire =)

I felt bad that I charred the clothesline but the tree yanked it down in an ice storm last winter, so no one will ever know.

Swallow It Down, What A Jagged Little Pill

My original goal was to take an AQ purely out of interest and not just because it would look good on a resume. Although I've enjoyed the courses I have taken so far, I definitely chose them largely because they would help me get a job (hopefully). I wanted to take one because I wanted to, not because I should. I was eyeing the Outdoor Ed course, or maybe Guidance. But time (and mostly money) slipped away and the next thing I knew we were buying a house and I had a lot more important places to sink $700.

So I had to find a replacement goal that was somewhat similar. That was a challenge, until I stumbled upon Coursera. Tons and tons of free online courses through universities around the world. My new goal was born: take two courses that I could put on my resume. Two because it was a substitution and wasn't quite as valuable as an AQ. I realize that seems contradictory that the courses had to benefit my resume whereas the AQ was to be taken specifically not to. But I figured an AQ helps my resume no matter which one I take, whereas I could take Coursera courses that would be meaningless and ridiculous to put on my resume. It was my best attempt at something equivalent that I could afford.

I ended up choosing E-Learning and Digital Cultures, and Science from Superheroes to Global Warming, both of which I could easily link to teaching.

The technology course was short, only one assignment, and dealt basically with utopian and dystopian viewpoints of an evolving technological world. I figured the science course would give me ideas on how to better connect students with scientific information. It was a longer course with weekly quizzes, two assignments and a final exam. It got a bit overwhelming near the end, especially when all the house-buying stuff came up, so my effort dwindled in the last couple of weeks but I fared ok since it was basically science content for the non-science person.

Overall both courses were a good experience; I've already completed others and am signed up for a few more, including one on genetics and another on nutrition. I love that I can continue to learn about subjects that interest me. The website was a fabulous find.

I'm Stronger, Than I Ever Thought That I Could Be

Pushups are the devil. I'm pretty sure only really sadist exercisers truly enjoy them. But I can't deny that they are an excellent display of upper body strength, something I typically lack. So this 100 Pushups Challenge was indeed going to be a challenge.

Pushups remind me of the karate classes I took when I was younger. They remind me of military punishment. They do not make me think of having a good time.

The first day I had to do the test, to see where I was stating from. I tried to do them from my toes and squeaked out a pathetic 2 pushups. On my knees, I managed 17. So I would be doing the challenge with modified pushups. I was ok with that (at 187 lbs, I was ok with that). Nick was even going to do the challenge with me.

By the second day of week 5, I did 101 pushups. Not all at once, in smaller sets, but in my mind, it was goal accomplished right there. There was still another week to go, but to me, I had succeeded.

I did get through week 6 (I was actually surprised how quickly I progressed, but miss one day and it felt like you were back to square one). On the final test, I did two sets of 50 pushups, and that made me very happy.

A tougher goal for me, but I stuck to it and finished it.

Take Me Away, A Secret Place, A Sweet Excape

We went camping with some friends last weekend, and it seemed like the perfect setting to watch a sunset and a sunrise. Somehow the weather cooperated, and we had a beautiful evening/morning. The only part that wasn't so fun was getting up at 4:30am; I wanted to see the sunrise from complete darkness onward (I have no idea why).

The lake we were on wasn't quite perfect for sunset viewing, but Nick managed to find a decent spot for us, and we almost ended up in the same spot in the morning.

We were tired, and somewhat impatient, but we were paid off, especially in the morning with some amazing views, and I ended up about 15 ft away from a family of deer eating breakfast!

Time Is Going By So Much Faster Than I

I quite clearly have a thing for nostalgia, so a time capsule makes perfect sense. Although it was surprisingly a bit of a challenge to come up with ideas for a short term time capsule just for us. I only wanted to do about 5 years, basically to compare being at the end of living at this house to the end of our first mortgage term at our new house. Originally we thought we might only be buying a 5 year house, so it made more sense, but now I'm pretty sure we'll be at this house for longer than 5 years.

It seems that most time capsules are for much longer (like 50 years) and are intended for someone else to discover. I guess that makes sense, I just wanted to do something different. I spent a couple of months thinking about what I wanted in it and collecting things like a movie ticket and a gas receipt. With closing day coming up, I had to get it done ASAP. I finally pieced it all together and sealed it up.

And so we wait, until April 21, 2018.

Wake Up. Hide The Scars To Fade Away The Shakeup

Today I woke up.

I stepped on the scale and saw a number I never ever imagined I would see. It read 202. I'd been avoiding the scale basically since we moved (about 2 months ago). I'd get on after a few good days, see a number hovering around the scary number, vow to do better, then push the scale away for a week or two.

But last week I hit rock bottom. (I think. How do you know if it truly is rock bottom? I feel like I've been here before, and yet obviously not?). It got to the point where I felt like I was now completely undesirable to Nick. And I never really felt like that before. I felt insecure about myself, and didn't like certain parts of my body, but I never felt like he didn't want me. But suddenly I did. Now a few days later, I think it was about 95% projected feelings, but not all of it. He would never say it, but I feel like it's at least a little true.

It's been a rough 12 months for me. I spent over a year and half working towards my dream job, only to not be given the promotion; instead they gave it to someone who had never been in the school and who technically didn't even work in the school board anymore. All because she had a certain qualification that (although unnecessary to do the job) I didn't. (Even better, I found out just a couple of weeks ago that she in fact didn't have the qualification, she is getting it this summer). It was completely and utterly heartbreaking and it shattered me. I didn't know which way to go, career-wise. What was I fighting so hard for, if all the hard work in the world means nothing in the end? So not only did I not get the job I have been dreaming of for decades, my paycheck took a drop come September. I had little motivation to go back to supply teaching. I avoided work if possible, doing a bare minimum, finding any excuse, no matter how flimsy, not to work. I was completely deflated. They had told me I had done everything right, so I didn't even have anything that I could work on to improve. Well, short of going back in time and getting an honours math degree instead of my supposedly not-good-enough B.Sc.

So of course I ate. And the cyst on my tailbone got worse. So bad that in October I was told I would have to have surgery. So I spent a couple of months nervous (so I ate), and then spent my Christmas holidays recuperating (which involved being bed/couch-ridden, and of course, eating. It was boring!). And then spent a couple of weeks avoiding work, because I couldn't sit in a car for the hour I needed to. (Ok, so that part wasn't a flimsy excuse, I really couldn't sit). And as usual, suffered from SAD. It was a mess of a winter for me. So of course I ate.

I will throw one success in all of this. January I decided to follow Bob Harper's Skinny Rules, and lost 12 lbs, having started the New Year at 196. But then February came, and I started to follow Jillian Michaels Body Revolution, and it was really hard, and I saw very little results over the first 3 weeks, and then I wrecked my knee and couldn't do her intense, lunge-heavy workouts, so my success story petered out. And so I ate. (And my knee still isn't quite right)

Then we started looking for a house. And found one we loved, albeit slightly on the high end of what we could afford. But we went through the insane process of buying, selling, packing and moving. Which, despite all my crazy preparations, had it's ups and downs. But the hardest part came once we moved. We are now about 35 minutes away from where we use to live, so Nick drives an extra 20-25 minutes to work than he use to, but I drive about 30 minutes (on average) less. We're in a completely new area, with parents and friends no longer a 5 minute drive away. Not to mention a big house with lots of maintenance needed and new bills to pay. And me barely working, with no prospects in sight. Even 2 months in, I have no idea where some things are, and I curse, knowing exactly where they use to be in the old house. I do love our new neighbourhood and our home, but apparently I really struggle with such drastic changes. And it isn't exactly calming to know I have a summer of no work and plenty of bills to pay. And so I eat.

Government regulation came along, requiring lists of teachers eligible for long term occasional and permanent jobs based on seniority. I interviewed as required, and expected that even if I got on the list, I would be in the hundreds at least, with no hope of a job in sight. I think part of me even hoped I didn't get on at all, that way it would be an easy decision to just give up on teaching already. But of course I got on the list (thankfully. mostly) and sit at #5 for math (which is how many they are now required to interview, so I should get an interview for every math job I apply to, no question), and within the top 10 for science and biology. Last week, I had an interview for a permanent math position. I actually thought I had a chance. I didn't do great in the interview, by my own standards, but it wasn't a complete bomb, but I figured if I lost it, that was why. But when I got the call, turns out that despite the fact that they thought I interviewed well, they had someone with more experience in the school. I didn't stand a chance long before I walked in the door for the interview. So regulation or not, nothing has changed. So I ate.

Then Nick put up the full length mirror up in our nicely painted and finished bedroom. We haven't really had a full length mirror before. So I stripped down, trying to see how noticeable the extra pounds really were. And I was shocked. I figured people could tell I had gained a little, but apparently I was in a bit of denial of where exactly the weight was really going. I think I figured that since when I gain weight, it usually goes straight to my stomach, and that wasn't happening, I must not have really been gaining that much, and that it surely wasn't very noticeable. But in that mirror... my hips were wider than ever, and there was a new (unpleasant) shape to my thighs that I had only ever seen before on very large people. It was devastating. The fat had found a place to go, and I had conveniently managed to ignore it. Until now; it was right in front of me. I never thought I would see my body look that bad. But it did. And it made me feel hopeless and out of control. So I ate.

Which pretty much brings me to today. For some time now, I had been planning an intense bootcamp for myself this summer, since (did I mention?) I didn't get summer school either, so I will have plenty of free time for the next two months. I've also signed up for the 10k Zoo run again with some friends, so I started 5k training. I had some great exercise days last week, 2 days of running, and 3 days of Blogilates. I wasn't exactly eating well, but I thought at least it would mean I could start my bootcamp today underneath the horrific number. Instead, I sit 2 lbs above it. I feel hopeless and motivated at the same time, and I'm not sure where that leaves me.

So 202 is a bit of a wake-up call. But I'm not sure in what direction. Will it push me to get off my a$$ and do something about it? Or will it push me into an abyss of hopelessness, where I just give up and somewhat accept the fact that I will just always be fat? I know which one I hope for, but I still don't really feel super charged with motivation to work out and eat right 24/7. It feels so daunting to think of how much I have to lose just to not be considered obese, let alone actually look good. When I felt fat and weighed 180, losing 20 lbs was significant. Now if I lose 20 lbs (which is not an easy feat!!), I will still be obese, still look and feel fat. And so it seems like a lost cause, a LOT of hard work for not a lot of success.

I just wish I would stop eating.

Take Control Of Your Mind And Meditate, Let Your Soul Gravitate To The Love

Meditation didn't seem like something completely foreign to me, honestly it sounded more familiar than my goal to pray for a month. I've been to yoga a few times, and there was always time for some quiet meditation at the end of class, and I liked it, it was relaxing. And heaven knows I can be uptight and stressed sometimes when things get overwhelming, so learning to take a few minutes to be quiet and still couldn't be a bad thing.

I looked up quite a few different websites, and they were all pretty much the same in their explanation of how to meditate. Basically, sit how your comfortable, but sit up straight, usually cross-legged, but not necessarily. Start with shorter times, and work your way up. Focus on your breathing and your body and try to clear your mind. If your mind wanders, once you notice, simply re-focus on your breathing. Try counting your breaths and re-starting your count once you get to 10 each time (so you can't let your mind wander while you still somewhat consciously count your way up to 43 or something).

Day 1: I decided to put on some of my relaxation music; I have a 5 minute piece that is the sound of rainfall with instrumental piano. I figured that was a decent way to time myself; I would be done when the music stopped. I sat cross-legged on the couch (perhaps not the best choice for trying to sit up straight); it's still somewhat difficult to sit normally since surgery, so I was kinda limited for seating options. I think ideally, I would sit on the floor. I don't think I did too badly, honestly, for a first try. I tried very hard to focus on my breathing, take deep breaths, and count to 10. A few times I was a little unsure of what count I was on, but I never went past 10. My mind didn't wander quite as much as I expected it to, and when it did, I caught it fairly quickly and returned to my breath. I was actually picturing lungs being filled and emptied (I'm such a science nerd); it was kinda what the instructor was having us do at my last yoga class. The only thought that was bugging me was wondering how long it had been, if it was 5 minutes yet. I guess that's the ultimate thing to conquer, the constant worry about time. Strangely enough tho, I felt like I was barely halfway through my 5 minutes when the music stopped. And even though it was only 5 minutes, I kinda felt refreshed, like how you're suppose to after a good nap (I hate naps, but that's another conversation). I'd say it was a success. It feels a bit daunting to make sure I do this every single day for a month, but I think it will be good for me.

Day 2: Maybe not quite as successful, but still making progress. I put on the same song again, but I kept thinking about all the things that were distracting me. I didn't think to tell Nick that I would be busy for 5 minutes and ask him to keep quiet, or stay downstairs, so I kept worrying he might come upstairs and interrupt, and I could hear his computer. The heat came on, which I always think is somewhat loud, and it makes the chimes sway, so I could hear that. I could hear cars driving by in the slush outside. I knew the cat was nearby and could decide to pounce in my lap at any moment. I guess I should really prepare my surroundings a little better if I want tranquility. Again, the 5 minutes seemed to surprisingly fly by. It's still a work in progress, but I like it.

Day 3: Not so great. I sneezed about 8 times, kept getting an itch on my face that I just had to scratch, and my mind kept wandering. Apparently I can focus on two things at once because I can still focus on my breathing and keep count while my mind thinks about getting ready for volleyball practice, or what song will I listen to next week. It seemed to go better when I literally pictured hands playing the piano while I still consciously counted my breaths. I guess I have a two-track mind. Maybe it matters what time of day I do it, or what I have going on afterwards as to how much I can stay focused?

Day 5: Do you have any idea how hard it is to not think about anything??

 

Day 8: I attempted a longer music piece today, 13 minutes. Except it turned out to be just rain, no piano or music of any kind. Which is very nice, very soothing, I love the sound of rain.  But I honestly got bored. How sad is that? As if that's not proof of the over-stimulated world we live in that I couldn't sit silently for very long without getting bored. But then something cool happened: I got a headache. A pain in a very localized area. Of course I don't usually think that pain is cool, but I tried something: with each inhale, I visualized the oxygen (a healing element) rushing to that spot. Then with every exhale, I pictured all the pain (and bad stuff) being scooped away. Within about 7 breaths, the pain was gone. Completely. So I started trying the technique on other parts of my body, my tense neck muscles, the itch on my cheek, my wonky knee. And I started to lose count of my breaths, I was so focused on my body and how a very specific part was feeling. It was kinda cool. But then of course I ran out of body parts that I felt need soothing, and I got bored again. But I still think that today is progress!

Day 20: Wow am I bad at this. I've kinda tapped out at this point; 2 weeks was enough to know how I felt about meditation, but I promised myself a month so I am still plugging away. It's a really tough thing to do, think about nothing. I've tried focusing on the music, I've tried sitting in silence, I've counted so many breaths, and I've gone through visualizations of breaths reaching into various parts of my body, I've pictured fat dissipating with each breath. Breath, breath, breath. I can't just focus on nothing, my mind invariable wanders somewhere. I keep trying to reign it in and it just gets frustrating and a little boring. I think unfortunately now it has become a self-fulfilling process: I don't look forward to doing it, so I get nothing out of it. I sit with my eyes closed for 5 minutes and I breathe, and try ever so hard not to think about anything. But I think about everything. It's hard not to think of my to-do list, or what happened today. The worst thing that crosses my mind every time is how I would write about it here! I literally end up composing blog entries about what I am doing when I am suppose to be being silent and peaceful and not thinking about anything! Part of the problem is I just want to get it done. I don't enjoy the 5 minutes. I know it takes around 30 breaths. I know the music so well now that I listen for certain spots to tell me whether I'm almost done or not. I feel like I'm trying too hard, and this is one thing where you should just let yourself be. Plus I feel like forcing myself to do it no matter what doesn't work. I know that when you are stressed and busy, it's probably the time you need it most, but I find it much more beneficial when I actually have the time to be calm for a bit beforehand, and stay fairly calm for a while afterwards. If I just finished cooking dinner, getting ready for work tomorrow, taking a car for a test drive, and I know that I have homework for my courses to do afterwards and laundry to put away, I just don't enjoy those 5 minutes. So it's kinda defeating the whole purpose. When I'm already relaxed, it helps me feel good and relax even more. When I'm busy and in need of relaxing, it just makes me think of all the other things I could be doing that are more productive. And yes, I'm aware that being less stressed would make me more efficient and thus take me less time to do those other things and make the 5 minute break worthwhile. Maybe if I just let my mind wander rather than try so hard to bring it back to nothing, maybe then I would feel more refreshed. Maybe something to try tomorrow.

Day 24: I just relax, close my eyes, put my music on and let my mind wander now. I've given up on feeling guilty when I can't sit and think about nothing. And I don't dread it as much. Don't get me wrong, I'm still kinda doing it all just because I have to at this point. And that's not to say that I'm not trying; I do still try to re-focus on my breathing and try to stop letting my brain wander too much, I just don't beat myself up over it anymore. 

Ok, so it wasn't a complete success, but it wasn't a total failure. It didn't go as I'd hoped, and I did eventually procrastinate on getting it done every day because I wasn't really enjoying it. But I still don't think it's a bad idea to take a few minutes out of a busy day and try to recharge. It's something I would try again sometime.

The Sun Was Just Yellow Energy

I don't typically read non-fiction, hence why I added it to my list. The first few didn't really reach beyond my comfort level; several on different aspects of health and weight-loss or fitness. But I got into and read books on procrastination, self-motivation, genetics, stem cells, childhood myths we believe, perfectionism, a dishonest society. It ended up being a great goal because I forced myself to read books I normally wouldn't, and the results were good.

The only books I would say were not a success were the two I read by comedians, Let's Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson, and This Is How by Augusten Burroughs. The first one grew on my as I read, but it felt like she was trying to hard to write in stream of conscious, and sometimes it just wasn't that funny. The second one, I was ready to hurl the book. It was insulting and not funny. Maybe I misinterpreted his point, but I would recommend that unless you enjoy base humour, don't bother. (The sub-heading of the book is Proven Aid in Overcoming Shyness, Molestation, Fatness, Spinsterhood, Grief, Disease, Lushery, Drecrepitude & More. Maybe I should have taken the hint). I think he was trying to be self-deprecating for the most part, but it failed to entertain. I had another book of his on my book/movie combo list, and I changed that faster than you can imagine. Very few books do I hate; this one is up there. Maybe comedy in writing just isn't for me. If anyone has any good comedy books they've enjoyed, I'd love to give it another shot. Just don't ask me to read an Augsten Burroughs book, because it won't happen. I don't hate myself that much.

Ones I would strongly recommend? The End of Food by Paul Roberts was fascinating if you have any interest in how food is made and processed as an industry. I ended up buying When Bad Things Happen To Good People by Harold S. Kushner, as well as another book of his, I liked it so much. They do have a basis in religion, but even to an atheist like me, they were valuable books. Procrastination: Why You Do It, What To Do About It was incredibly eye-opening; it truly helped me understand where my procrastination comes from and how to stop doing it. And Because I Said So! was a quick and interesting read on all the little things we believe that our mothers tell us (like feed a cold, starve a flu, or don't run with scissors). Some things were based in fact, but it was surprising which ones are not! The science geek in me loved it, but it was definitely not technical.

Definitely a goal I would repeat on future 101 lists!

Stop Crying Your Heart Out

Patience is not something I typically possess.

I'm torn because I'm happy I'm headed in the right direction, but I'm frustrated because it's going so slow. Yesterday I was ecstatic because I finally saw a big drop on the scale; down to 181.8 lbs. I was exhilarated that things were finally going right, I was finally being rewarded with numbers that matched my effort. And then, despite another good day yesterday, I woke up to 182.4 lbs. And my brain doesn't see that I was 184.2 lbs on Wednesday, it sees that I went up. My brain doesn't see that I was 196.8 at the beginning of last month, it sees that I've been working so hard and am only getting little results. I really have to stop with the daily weigh-ins, or learn to stop taking them so literal.

I need to remind myself that weight fluctuates no matter what you do, no matter how many great days you have. I need to remember that what I am doing is finally sustainable, and I can achieve my goals this way. But it's still hard.

I think my biggest concern is the time. Time I don't have. To complete my goal list, I have to wear a bikini in public, which means by the end of summer. At this rate (3-4 lbs lost per month), I will weigh around 160 lbs by the end of August, and that to me does not sound like a bikini body.  I have to wear a sexy Halloween costume, and if I'm around 153 lbs. by the end of October... I mean it's good, I don't know about sexy. I have a photo shoot to do once I've lost all the weight. My goal list ends next February. I'm feeling the pressure for sure.

I just really wanted to be out of the 180s by the end of the month, and with just 10 days, I don't see that happening. Stupidly enough, on my SparkPeople graph, I'm underneath where I need to be to reach my goal (137 lbs) by the end of August. So I'm doing something right. I just wish I would let myself truly see that and appreciate that. I just continue to be nervous about the fact that I dropped so much right away last month (which happens whenever anyone starts a healthy lifestyle to lose weight). I'm afraid that once I balance out to a steady weight loss, it won't average out quite the same and won't be enough to get to my goal in time.

And of course, what's the point in worrying? I'm still doing really great. I'm on top of my workouts, following Jillian Michaels Body Revolution; just finished Week 2 yesterday. Not a day has gone by that I haven't counted my calories since January 2, and there's been only 3 or 4 days where I've gone over my range. I've been doing great.

I think the first two weeks of February really took a toll on my emotional side to weight loss. It was really hard to see no real change on the scale for so long while I continued to work hard. It just didn't seem fair. And I thought yesterday was finally compensation for enduring those 2 weeks of frustration.

In the end, I could get on the scale tomorrow and be back down to that precious 181.8 lbs, or even lower (doubtful, today is my day off for Body Revolution, and there's no volleyball because of Family Day, so not a lot of activity in my day). With more than a week to go this month, I really still could see the 170s. Realistically, I'm worrying for nothing, and all it's doing is unnecessarily stressing me out.

So stop worrying!

Tale As Old As Time, Song As Old As Rhyme

Ok, I was really hoping for Wicked or Wizard of Oz tickets for my musical but it just didn't happen. Wicked never came to our area at an opportune time, and once The Wizard of Oz appeared, we were too busy saving money for a house to spend a couple hundred dollars on a musical night in Toronto. So no Dorothy for me. (insert sad face here)

But conveniently enough, there was a traveling Beauty and the Beast coming to town. I had to think about it for a bit though because I had already seen it in Toronto many (many) years ago; it was my favourite of the musicals I've seen (Phantom, Showboat, Lion King). Would it count for my goal list to see a musical I had already seen? But since money was tight for any other option, and it was well over 15 years ago, I figured it was fair game.

I bought the tickets last August, and the show was just this week. And it was really good. Here's the stuff I noticed:

• It sounded almost too perfect. You never heard anyone take a breath, or material rub against a mic, or any kind of deviation that made it feel real. I don't really say this as a complaint, but to me it lost part of the best part of live shows, the organic in-person vibe. But I guess once you've done it so many times, it's hard to sound any different and hit anything but the perfect note.
• Probably part of that, but a hockey arena is not the best venue for music. It sounded kinda flat, and definitely through no fault of the band or the actors. (not flat is in sharp or flat musically, flat as in lacking dimension) It sounded just like watching on TV, like the sound came from just one point. It lacked the warmth of sound surrounding you as it does in proper theatres.
• It was an all ages events, and there was a lot of really cute little girls in princess dresses and crowns. But surprisingly, there was also a lot of very young children, like 2 and under. We even saw several infants (perhaps under 2 months!). For the most part, it didn't really bother me; it was a noisy crowd overall, a lot of talking (both adults and kids) and a few babies crying, but the sound didn't really seem to carry much. I just wonder why on earth you would bring such small children to a play. For so many reasons. (Rant ahead)...

a) What would a small child get out of it? I don't know at what age they had to pay for a ticket, but even if it was no charge, would a toddler really enjoy it? Most of the toddlers were asleep long before intermission; are they really becoming culturally diverse and having a good time?
b) Do you want to worry about looking after your child when everyone else is enjoying the show? If you're child is upset or hungry or needs to go to the bathroom or just plain antsy, you've got to deal with it, so you miss part of the show potentially. Why wouldn't you just want to get a baby-sitter for the night if you really wanted to see the show? You paid $65 a ticket, I'm sure the extra $30 for a sitter won't break you.
c) Your child could end up disrupting other people around you trying to enjoy the show. It's not fair to people who came to hear Lumière and not your crying infant.

Perhaps I am, as always, the cynical childless bitch who just doesn't understand, but in my mind there are some places where kids aren't really intended to go. For this, probably 5 and up is cool; old enough to sit still to watch and enjoy the show. Of course depending on the individual kid. Any younger and I just don't understand why you would bring a child. Honestly. I don't say it to be the angry person who never wants to be around kids, I truly wish I knew what would make someone decide to bring a 2 month old or even a toddler to a musical. Or to a movie theatre. I guess if you know you have a very well behaved child, there's no need to leave them at home, but how many toddlers can sit still for very long? And in my opinion, you have to get use to the fact that as a parent, you don't necessarily get to do all the same things you did when you were childless. Especially when it infringes on the people around you. I've been to non-kid movies where someone has brought in an infant and not left the theatre while the child screamed. So very not cool.

Will I take all this back once we have kids? Maybe. But I like to think that I take other people into consideration, and most people don't want a whiny child ruining their evening. Nobody wants to be around an unpleasant child, whether they have kids of their own or not. I understand that sacrifices have to be made in regards to your personal wants as a parent; I'm not sure all parents get that. Is there anywhere you can go now without risking being over run by children? (Again, I realize the musical was all ages, and I assumed there would be lots of kids, I just didn't expect the really young ones).

Anyway.... (now that that rant is over...)

I truly don't want it to sound like I didn't enjoy the show; I really did. It was funny and cute and the set was really well done. The actors did a great job and the band was phenomenal. Hopefully you'll notice that the flaws I pointed out really have nothing to do with the production but with the venue and the crowd.

There's something to be said for the ambiance of a theatre, getting dressed up and going out for the night. We were in jeans, surrounded by toddlers, had pancakes for dinner and walked to the arena. Probably not quite what I had in mind when I made the goal, but there's always time for more shows someday. Just not with my small children.

I'll Do What It Takes 'Til I Touch The Sky

I've been really trying hard lately to accomplish my goals, particularly weight-wise. There are several weight-related goals on my list, and I'm not about to get an incomplete because of them. I do feel strong and capable, and I feel like I'm doing it the right way, so success is in my future. I've hit a few speed bumps already, but I get back up much quicker than I used to so that there is not too much damage done. I will lose weight and become thin and fit.

I just can't picture it.

This has always been one of my biggest problems in losing weight. Having always been overweight to some degree, I have absolutely no concept whatsoever on how I might look once thin. No clue. So I've always been trying to find pictures of girls that kinda look like me (but thinner versions obviously!). It's not easy.

Celebrities are useless as realistic role models when it comes to weight. I mean yeah, I want to look hot, and it sucks that most of what we see is these 'famous' people in their size 00, but I know very well that I will never look like that. And some of them, I wouldn't want to look like. And it's tough finding the few that seem reasonable.

Part of the problem is that I just don't have an imaginative brain in the sense that I have to see things to understand them. I am just a visual person. I could never have a house built because I couldn't buy it sight unseen. I could look at floor plans, see the lot, see a model home, nothing would ever have me understand exactly how that house would look. Can't do it. So it really would be helpful if there was such a thing as a thinner version of me, but that's never existed.

I even recruited Nick's tech skills with Photoshop (and whatever other programs he uses) to create a possible image for me. He took one of me and made it look thinner. He really did an amazing job, but maybe knowing that it had been altered made me question it. He took a picture of Alyssa Milano's body and merged my head onto it; again, he did a really great tech job, but it just did not match up quite right, and for some reason my nose looked much bigger that it really is. So again, I just couldn't buy it.

Why is it so hard to visualize something, just because I've never seen it before?

A couple of weeks ago, I made this picture my desktop background:

Now that you officially think it's bizarre that I have a hot girl in a bikini on my desktop... I was hoping it would be motivation. Her body didn't seem to be completely unrealistic, and she was a brunette, and (seemingly) not incredibly tall. So it worked. Sorta.

I tried looking again this morning, and I found that Kelly Clarkson could be a good size model for me, but because she's not "Hollywood perfect", there aren't many full body shots of her.

It's tough doing these Jillian Michaels Body Revolution workouts because the people in the videos are all perfectly sculpted. Perfect abs and arms. And so tiny. I can't aspire to that. I mean it may not even be possible for me.

All I want is to feel good about myself, to feel confident and attractive. But at times it's really hard to imagine what that would feel like, and it's hard to keep fighting for something that you have no idea how it looks.

Can You Play Me A Memory, I'm Not Really Sure How It Goes But It's Sad And It's Sweet

I had a keyboard when I was little. I even tried to take lessons for a while, but paying $12/half hour when you're 12 isn't fun (yes I paid for them myself). Plus at the lessons, they had a full keyboard whereas mine at home was a smaller scale. Which meant I did the practice I was told to at home throughout the week, then was admonished for not practicing when my fingers didn't naturally reach properly on the bigger keyboard. The lessons were short-lived.

But I always played at home. Never very well, and typically not with two hands. I had simple music and usually played Christmas songs. Or I discovered the melody to a favourite song by trial and error. I never really excelled at reading music, I was pretty slow at it, but was quick to memorize what I played. Even in band (Air Cadets) where I played trumpet, then baritone, then glock, then baritone again, I played more by memory than sight-reading.

I still longed to really play the piano, so Nick bought me a beautiful keyboard a couple of Christmases ago. I'm sad to say it took me this long to get playing on it (not that I'm a procrastinator), but I'm glad that I am. I bought a book (when he got my the keyboard) that actually taught musical theory, that I've been using all week.

I've learned about chromatic and diatonic tones, and was thrust into both treble and bass clef right away (no learning to use the right hand first, then adding the left, as I would have hoped). Some days I haven't been really excited to force myself to sit at the keyboard for 30 minutes, but I do think it's created improvement. While I still don't sight read really fast, I am making myself take the time and do each exercise in the book carefully and thoroughly so that I can learn.

I have some songs to learn for another goal, so I better keep at it!

We'll Get There Fast And Then We'll Take It Slow

So in between releasing balloons to the wild and building sandcastles, we had a nice picnic lunch at Cobourg Beach.

I packed what I deemed to be the usual suspects at a picnic: potato salad, macaroni salad, big deli buns with cold meats, veggies and dip, chips and lots of water. It was a bit of a fight to keep the sand out since it was a really windy day. But we had a beautiful view of the water, a warm sunny day, the typical blanket underneath us. It was a perfect afternoon.

Relax And Settle Down, Let Your Mind Go 'Round

It turns out that yoga is very instructor dependent.

I've now taken several classes (and tried several DVDs too), and I find it all comes down to the instructor. And I found a good one at the Wellness Centre. I don't know how to explain what made her good, maybe it was because she had a soothing, evenly-paced voice that was relaxing and encouraging, maybe it was because she told us to make each practice our own and do what our bodies want us to do. Whatever it was, I enjoyed going. Unfortunately it wasn't as often as I would have liked; the two classes offered each week weren't at great times for me. I have been to one or two other classes with different instructors, and just not gotten into it as much.

I wouldn't really recommend yoga DVDs unless you are already a yogi. I find that many moves have you in a position that just does not make it conducive (or relaxing!) to turn and look at the TV, and sometimes the instructors aren't being overly-explicit on when they are changing moves, so you can't rely on verbal cues alone. Perhaps if you repeat the same DVD many times, you would get it down pat. I also have a Wii game that creates a new combination of moves every time, so there's no chance to remember the order, making it even tougher.

Whichever you try, I would suggest trying it a few different times before deciding whether you like it or not. I'm still waiting for the desire to try hot yoga; I have some friends who go every week that have left me with an open invitation, but I am not quite ready for it yet. While the Wellness Centre was a very gentle yoga (that I could totally handle and enjoy), I get the feeling that hot yoga comes with a lot more intense poses that my flexibility and strength may not be up for just yet. But someday. Maybe.

True Colors Are Beautiful, Like A Rainbow

I came across this goal suggestion and was reminded of my lacking artistic skills. I remember in elementary school asking the girl who was the best colourer how she does it; I remember she said to always colour in the same direction.

I just figured it would be a relaxing and calming thing to do. But it turned out that finding a colouring book was a little tougher than I thought. I mean, I think we all know by now that I tend to be rather picky, so that didn't help. But I didn't want an activity book, I wanted 100% colouring. And I didn't want 100 pages of it. And I didn't want a really lame theme (I am not a Star Wars fan. Nor do I enjoy Pokemon).

In the end, I found a 16 page Alice In Wonderland book that would suffice. And I had looked in a few different stores. (Sadly, once I had already started colouring that one, Nick found a Wizard of Oz book for me... maybe that will be on my next 101 list).

Was it relaxing? Yeah I guess. I'm still not artistic, so I often got frustrated at things that didn't quite turn out how I would have liked, either the colour or shading was wrong (I don't really get into shading, I just don't know how to do it). It didn't help that I just had a small pack of cheap pencil crayons from the dollar store, so not a lot of colour choices.

In the end, it was kinda fun to do something a bit childish, something I hadn't done in years.

I Found The Photo Of The Friend That I Was Looking For

I was always the girl with the camera in her hand, through most of high school and beyond. (Of course I was, I was/am the fat girl who didn't want to be in the pictures). I even took Yearbook, so I could take pictures of my friends. And of course, as is apparent, I like to document things.

Needless to say, I have a TON of photos on my computer. I even took the time to scan in all my old hard copy photos, you know, those things we had before digital cameras. I remember buying my first digital camera. I asked for money for Christmas, from parents and relatives, and added some of my own, and bought a 4.2 megapixel camera for about $750. That was probably a little over 10 years ago.

Anyway, the pictures were piling up. Unsorted. Life events like birthdays and weddings, random cute pictures of pets, holidays, vacations, camping trips, walks around the block... It was getting ridiculous. I had years and years worth of memories, yet they were daunting to look at.

So I started sorting. Finding a system was a little challenging, but I think it worked out in the end. The "Outings & Events" folder is huge. But all my memories are now somewhat organized, so it's a little more pleasant to take a stroll down memory lane, any time I want to.

Reflecting Now On How Things Could've Been, It Was Worth It In The End

I've been having this strange feeling the last day or so. It's a very new feeling, very unusual for me.

I feel like I am a skinny person trapped in an overweight body.

I am willing to put good money on the fact that I am definitely not the first person to ever have that thought. But here's the weird part: a) I've never had that thought before, and b) I've never been thin before.

I have been dieting, trying to lose weight and praying to be thin probably for 20 years now (and I'm only 30!). I was chubby by the time I hit 3rd grade. I have absolutely NO concept at all about what it's like to be thin, in any way, shape or form. Sure I've been lighter and heavier, but always overweight, never thin and fit. At 183.8 lbs now, I am certainly neither of those things. But I feel like I should be, like I could actually be thin and fit and healthy and attractive.

It started yesterday (that I noticed anyway) when I was doing a Carmen Electra workout DVD. They are fun and can make you sweat, but this one in particular (which if you know the DVDs I'm talking about, you already know I'm talking striptease) requires a lot more flexibility. Obviously with a goal of touching my toes on my list, flexibility is not my forte. Even when I am working on it, there are times when I feel like I could be more flexible, but the size of my body literally gets in the way. Of course a big stomach is going to impede a person from bending over further. So here I am, doing this workout that is suppose to make you feel sexy and confident, and I'm just feeling... limited. And definitely NOT sexy. It wasn't in a depressing, woe-is-me, this sucks kind of way (I said I was going to try not to do that anymore, and I meant it!), it was more pure frustration. I am working so hard at weight loss lately, and although it's going well, it's sometimes hard to handle the wait of getting to where you want to be.

Later on, in the shower, I looked down at my body, and it felt strangely like it belonged to someone else. Which again, weird, because I've always had a ... rounder body, I'm quite used to that. I don't know what a flat stomach and small thighs looks like from my viewpoint. And again it seemed frustrating to have this body that just didn't fit my mentality.

The last thing to confirm my new feeling was a trip out to the bar last night. It was a very similar experience to something I've blogged about before, and actually at the same location, with some of the same people, just a year and half later (and of course nothing seems to have changed). Having been stuck at home all week (exam season, no work for supply teachers), I was ready to go out on the town. I wore a shirt I haven't quite felt comfortable in, since it's a little form fitting, but it's sparkly and pretty and bar-appropriate. I did my hair and makeup all nice, trying to feel pretty. Whenever I go out to a bar (well, bar/pool hall... why does pool hall sound like a dive? It's not though.), I feel so inferior. Bars always attract the pretty girls in their slinky, sexy clothes, making me look/feel even more like the overweight, unattractive blob that I am. Even at my best, all prettied up, I still can't compete with them. It usually just makes me feel worse about myself, and last night was no exception. But yet again, it was more a feeling of frustration. I wanted to be that girl, the one that people stopped to look at, the one that the boys were checking out from across the room (because of course my charming friends were scoping out all the girls in the place), the one who was having fun and being bubbly and desirable. I felt like I should be that girl, I was suppose to be that girl, and yet here I am, stuck being overweight, stuck tugging on my shirt, hoping it's not as unflattering as it feels. Avoiding playing pool because it requires bending over, and while my friends are checking out the girl doing the same at the next table, I know no one across the room is looking at me, at least not in a good way.

A bit of a sidenote... If it wasn't already clear, I'm very happily married. In fact, Nick pointed out several times how hot he thought I looked last night. And I love him all the more dearly for that. I think I want all the attention just to see that I could get it, just to feel what it's like. As I mentioned, I've never been thin, so in my younger bar-hopping days, I was never the girl that the guys checked out. I'm not trying to pick up, I just want to know what it's like to not be invisible. I've never noticed a look of disgust from someone, there's just no looks at all. And I wonder if that's almost worse. It's like I don't exist. And maybe that's it, maybe that's what I want to feel: like I exist in the world. And unfortunately, it seems like to be noticed, by men or women, in any sense of the word, you have to look good.

Maybe it's ridiculously sad that I feel the need to be noticed. Maybe it's truly a grass is always greener thing; just the other day I read a comment from one of the thin pretty girls about how terrible it is to have all that attention, how lewd guys can be, and how inappropriate it can get. But I also just watched an episode of How I Met Your Mother that further showed that the hot girls get noticed, and get looked after, by everyone. (Ok, so she became invisible due to her engagement ring, not due to her size, but it was the same sentiment). And ultimately, I can't help what I feel. Maybe even once I'm thin I won't get noticed. Who knows how I would deal with that. Being thin won't automatically make me pretty too, but I like to think that, besides my weight, I'm decent looking. So I like to hope that there's a chance. I have to have hope that one day I can feel like I am a person that exists in the world.

Again, maybe it's wrong to hinge so much on personal looks. Maybe I'm a terrible person for just exacerbating the situation of people viewing how someone looks as so important. Maybe I'm a terrible role model for wanting all the wrong things. Maybe I'm focusing on something that just shouldn't be important. Maybe I'm setting myself up for a no-win situation. Maybe.

Or maybe I can just take this frustrating feeling and let it keep fueling me to keep at it, to keep eating better and exercising regularly, and becoming a healthy person. Maybe I have to take whatever I can get to keep me on this track to get in shape, to be more fit, to feel more comfortable in my own skin.

Because ultimately, isn't that what it's all about: finally feeling comfortable and happy and confident with who I am?

Perhaps my definition of being comfortable, happy and confident isn't the same as everyone else's, but why should it be? Why do I have to justify to anyone what it will take to make me content? I'm not hurting anybody, so why should I feel guilty for wanting to feel special for a change?

Why Don't You Tell Your Dreams To Me, Fantasy Will Set You Free

I'd read Harry Potter before, I can actually remember I was still working retail and I couldn't get all the books from the library so I actually downloaded some of them and read them at work when the store was quiet. It was a good series, perhaps a bit perplexing in how it started as a light kids book (in both nature and size) and ended up as dark adult books (and a lot more pages!). But nonetheless, an enchanting and whimsical story with a satisfying ending.

Speaking of ending... I didn't actually get to the books until they had all been out for quite some time, and I actually managed to remain in the dark about the ending. I remember before the last book came out, there was a lot of hype over whether or not Harry would die. Surprisingly, I never found out until I actually read it myself (don't worry, I won't drop any spoilers). I didn't know what to expect, and I was actually relatively pleased with how the ending was handled.

It worked out that I was going to Leadership Camp with my school, and the theme was, of course, Harry Potter. Knowing the books/movies of course wasn't required, but I imagined it would make the experience more fun, since clearly most of the kids knew the story very (very) well. Camp committee actually spent an entire weekend marathoning the movies and brainstorming for camp ideas.

So I followed their lead. I had almost $200 in earned Chapters gift cards (by doing online surveys) so I included a beautiful Harry Potter set in my order. Read the books. And then of course, Nick and I marathoned the movies over a weekend. I think the kids literally did all of them back to back to back (and obviously many scenes were slept through), but Nick and I spread it out over a whole long weekend so we could actually see the movies and still have time to get away from the TV for a little bit every now and then. We actually found a very cheap Blu-ray set at HMV; it didn't have anything fancy with it, just all the discs in one case, no fancy packaging or extra trinkets (I think that version is the size of a microwave and costs about $370... I saw that at HMV this Christmas; I wonder if a magic wand comes with it).

It was a good goal to have, and now I have a nice set of books and movies.

Cloud My Eyes And Tell Me What To See

"They want to make buttons out of my bones." ~ Gregory Corso

Does you ever feel like you're sick of being the strong one, tired of always keeping it all together? I'd like to think I'm not prone to melodramatic meltdowns, but sometimes I really just wish I could stop caring. I wish I could just let go and stop fighting so hard, stop fighting so hard to lose weight, stop fighting so hard to get a job. I feel like I keep failing at both of these things, even when I give it 110%. Add in trying to save money for a house, and just doing day-to-day things where it seems like all we get is bad luck, and then kicked while we're down. Sometimes I just want to give up. I just want to curl up in a ball under a warm blanket and not care if the back account goes into overdraft. I want to not care that I'm fat. I want to not care if not showing up for work is detrimental to my career. I just want to stop putting in any effort at all, because it doesn't seem to make a difference.

But of course it makes a difference. Not caring at all would make things even worse, and that's what keeps me trying. It just really sucks sometimes that you have to fight so hard just to stay afloat. Not fighting hard to get ahead, just fighting hard to stay at baseline. It's like life's balance point is at rock bottom, and you have to constantly struggle to stay away from it. So that even when you are treading water at a ferocious intensity, you are just barely keeping your head above water. It's rather sad.

I don't know why some people are prone to better luck in life. Maybe people are just really good about not talking about the bad things, only the good things, so it seems like they've got everything going for them when they really don't. Who knows.

It's really infuriating to just want to let go, and let things be how they will be, not have to exert myself for what seems to be just average. But every time things get really bad, and all I want to do is get under that blanket and stay there for at least a month, I tell myself that that isn't really an option. And it's not. Doing nothing sinks you further into the hole, making it even harder to get out in the long run. And I don't want to do that. So yes, perhaps sometimes I'm only trying half-heartedly, but I won't ever just completely meltdown and let go.

I read a blog the other day that sounded a lot like I do right now: oh woe is me, everything sucks, life hates me, feel bad for me, pity me, I keep trying and failing, what am I doing wrong, why doesn't life just work out like I had planned, I just have to laugh and keep my head up. I could have wrote the thing myself. And to be completely honest, I hated it. Not the blog itself, but I hated hearing that that's what I must sound like. Nobody wants to hear that crap. It doesn't do anybody any good, not the person writing it, and not the people reading it. It's not inspiring (at least not in a positive direction), and although it may be cathartic to the writer, it's a lot more like wallowing and bemoaning, and that doesn't make anything better.

Upon reading that blog, I decided I didn't want to sound like that ever again. It was pitiful and not the person that I wish I was. I can't promise and say I will never sound like that again (all my ranting above was an effort to get it out, have my cathartic moment, and prepare to move on), because I don't ever want to sugar coat how I feel. But I really hope I can get away from that. Maybe I should really get on board with the whole lemons to lemonade thing (maybe it never stuck because I don't like lemonade?).

Back to the buttons and the bones. The image I got was not some morbid factory making ivory buttons out of femur bones (ok, well it was eventually, but not at first). I pictured someone buttoning up a jacket, folding themselves in, and making cold weather not just bearable, but enjoyable. I pictured someone (figuratively of course) buttoning their bones together, sticking true to who they are, not letting themselves fall apart and standing up in the world. I pictured someone mending themselves from the inside out.

"They want to make buttons out of my bones." They who? The world? The world wants you to stick with it, to keep fighting, to keep standing, to not let yourself come undone. I've got to stop thinking that the universe is out to get me. As much as I falter in any belief of a greater power out there, I'm definitely not that important to have the whole world against me.

So I need to button up my bones, become a person I can be proud of, and stop blaming luck and the world for my problems. It's no simple task, not in any sense, but what's wrong with having a lofty goal? If I can accomplish 101 goals, what's one more?

Creative Writing Prompt #181: What images does this line in one of Gregory Corso's poems spark in you: "They want to make buttons out of my bones."