How 'bout "Time Warner Sucks" in D Minor?

Ever since my very first apartment, I have been a cable TV customer. I've never had any problems with cable, except for that time when the apartment complex I was living in had a contract with Optel and I couldn't get digital cable. That sucked, but I could deal. So, when I thought about moving out, one of the things I was looking forward to was getting back to cable again. I liked our satellite TV fine, but it went out when it was storming outside, and we didn't have a receiver in Noah's room, and I thought cable would be easier.

Boy, was I wrong.

Oh, it started off fine. I went to the Time-Warner website to order service, only to get muddled by the vast number of equipment options we have these days. So, I called the customer service number, and had an installation scheduled within 10 minutes. Everything was cool, I was excited, things were happening.

Installation day came, and the dude showed up 30 minutes into the 2-hour window. Again, awesome. However, he showed up with about 1/2 of the equipment I ordered, and a work order for only one outlet. I ordered 3. And this is where things started to go south.

First, I looped through the Time-Warner phone menus 3 times before finally choosing a random option, since there wasn't one for installation issues OR an option to just talk to an operator. When I got someone on the line, I explained my situation and they told me that it would be an additional $19 up front for each additional room and I could pick up the missing equipment at a Time-Warner store. Fine, whatever. The tech had offered to pull the cable while he was there so I didn't have to do another installation, and I gave him the other work order number. He also mentioned that the HD DVR that they had in their warehouse wasn't the one that was on my work order, but they didn't have the other (better) model in stock there. So as long as I was going to the T-W office anyway, I should pack up the DVR and exchange it for the better one while I was there.

So, after I had paid the installation charges($107) and he left, I packed up the DVR and headed to the nearest T-W office to pick up my digital box and swap my DVR. Except that they were completely out of HD equipment, and so were the other three closest stores. So I got the digital box (though there was some confusion over whether I ordered a DVR digital or a standard digital, because both were listed on the work order. But if they were both listed on the work order, why in hell didn't the tech bring it/them? I DON'T KNOW EITHER), and headed back to the house to re-hook up the HD DVR. Then, since it was too late to go back to work, I started playing with the remote.

Which worked like CRAP. The online guide had not yet populated, so the response times on the remote were super slow. I tried using the pause button on the remote, and it blanked out and locked up my screen until I changed the channel. Plus, the analog programming looked like ass on the new TV and I was missing some of the channels I ordered.

I left the house, and returned in the morning to see if the guide had populated and if the missing channels had magically appeared overnight, since sometimes they take a while to fully populate. Yes and no. The remote response was much faster and I had on-screen guide, but I still didn't have the standard cable HD channels or Showtime (which I ordered specifically so I could watch Dexter).

At this point, I was still pissed about how everything went down, and AT&T had already gotten my high-speed internet business as a result (I had originally planned to go through T-W for that as well). However, I was still giving them a chance for my TV business. I called and checked on satellite pricing just in case, but I still thought I would give cable a chance to make it right.

Then I came home that night to a broken HD DVR. Game over, Time-Warner! I packed up all their equipment (digital box still in the shrink wrap) and put it in the car. After signing up for AT&T Dish Network (for more channels, more DVR receivers, one-bill service, and faster installation for about the same price), I returned the cable crap this afternoon to the store a couple blocks from work. After arguing mostly unsuccessfully with the counter lady about getting a refund rather than $19 of ADDITIONAL FUCKING CHARGES, I asked for a phone number where I could call to complain and got out of there before I gave into the temptation to kill her with my bare hands.

I swear to god, if I hadn't just bought that new set, I would totally be going no-TV household right now. Jeebus.

stupid pear

I was sort of in a hurry this morning, and on the way to work I realized I forgot to pack my headphones. Further inspection of my workout bag revealed that I also forgot pants.

This was really just as well, because I've been meaning to get over to Academy for some new shorts* anyway. Last week, I discovered a hole in the seat of my current pair, and while I usually don't wear them without overshorts (probably not a word) or a long t-shirt, it still made me uncomfortable to know that my ass was playing peekaboo back there.

So anyway, I decided to pick up my lunch at the good Vietnamese place (mmm...spring rolls) so I could drop by the Academy down the street on my way back to the office. I found the liner shorts pretty quickly, but then found some other stuff to try on as I was browsing around. This is where I started to get frustrated.

See, I'm sort of a weird size right now. Actually, sizes. On top, I can usually count on a Large to fit me pretty well. If there are sleeves, sometimes I have problems with my upper arms, but generally things fit the way they're supposed to.

On the bottom, it's a whole 'nother story. I know I've mentioned this before, but I have the sort of body for which the term "thunder thighs" was coined. The VAST majority of my extra weight is below the waist. This has its advantages--my legs are strong, head and torso photos actually make me look halfway normal, etc. However, clothes shopping is frustrating, because I am consistently a 1/2 to full size bigger on the bottom than I am on the top. Even at a normal weight, I had trouble finding pants that were tight enough in the waist and roomy enough in the hips and thighs.

This was in full effect at Academy today. I tried on some shorts in an XL, and they fit fine through the hips and legs, but had a good 3-4 inch gap in the waist. I tried on the L, and while they fit over my hips, it wasn't without a fight.

Tops were no better...I've been looking for cute built-in bra light-workout tops for a while now, because it's nice to have less clothes to deal with as it gets hotter. They're not good for running unless you're very small or very perky (neither of which I am anymore, alas), but they'd be nice for lifting and cycling. Anyway, I ran into the same problem with the tops as I did with the shorts. Mediums (and Larges, in the super-spandex varieties) are too tight, the straps are too long on Ls and XLs.

I know that they can't possibly make sizes to accommodate every body type, but I wish at least one clothing manufacturer would make workout clothes for pear-shaped women. It'd be nice to find something available in sizes other than "too big" and "too small".

*These are my favorite workout shorts. They've got a 9" inseam, which is nice for those of us whose thighs rub together. They don't ride up, and they're not made of that shiny spandex that makes me feel so 1987. The waistband stays tight enough, but still comfortable. Fairly sturdy, they hold up well to frequent washings. I had my current pair about 2 years, washing once a week, before they got holey on me. They retail at most of my local stores for $20, and I highly recommend picking some up. (/plug)

Can I get someone smarter than you, please?

I've been on the phone with a certain software company for going on 2 hours now. The tech that I'm talking to is quite obviously not capable of fixing my problem. I've had to tell him FOUR DAMN TIMES that the server we're talking about is not running Wind0ws. At all. The first time, about 2 minutes after starting the conversation.

WARNING: This post has nothing whatsoever to do with weight loss. It's just a semi-coherent rant about vendor phone support.

An hour and a half later, right after telling him the relevant details about the server again, including that it is not running a Wind0ws OS, only emulating NTFS security:

"What I'd like to do is connect over remote desktop to the server that the folders are on."
"No, I cannot do a remote desktop session with this computer because it's not running Wind0ws. As I just said, it's a storage appliance."
"It's not a Wind0ws machine?"
"No."

Fruitless troubleshooting ensues. Barely 2 minutes later:

"Okay, can you look at the local security policy on the server that the share is on.."
"No, I cannot look at the local security policy on the machine, because it's not running Wind0ws. It's an appliance, emulating NTFS. [repeat details about make and model of storage appliance here]."
"It's not a Wind0ws machine?"
"No, it's not a Wind0ws machine."

After a 5-minute hold, during which he consults his experts:

"Okay, what I need you to do is a remote desktop session to the server..."
"IT'S NOT A WIND0WS MACHINE. As I have told you 3 times now, it is AN APPLIANCE."
"It's not a Wind0ws machine? If it's not a Wind0ws machine, then I don't think we can support your configuration."

At that point, we had been on the phone for nearly two hours. Somehow, though, I managed to suppress the STRONG desire to unleash a stream of obscenities that would make a sailor blush.

The best part of this is that I had maintained from the beginning of the conversation that this problem is unrelated to the server. If it was a problem with the server, it would be happening for everyone. It is an intermittent problem with certain workstations, and the only reason it even involves me at all is that it involves connections to the server established by the user's profile. A server which, by the way, is NOT A DAMNED WIND0WS MACHINE.

The workstations, though? Wind0ws machines. Which is why I called, why I paid my $200+ support fee, and why I am so annoyed that I wasted two hours of my life repeating myself to someone who hasn't grasped the concept of just WRITING SHIT DOWN. Or perhaps just listening, already.

I have officially worn myself out

Man. After a week of working out every day except Friday, and twice on Wednesday, my legs are so done with me. I ran/walked yesterday afternoon, about 4 miles in an hour. Not my best time, but I don't know exactly how far I went either. I had measured the route on my bike, but as it turns out my bike computer measures slow. Like, if I'm going 15 mph, it thinks I'm going 13 mph. It thought the route that I walked/ran today was about 3.5 miles, so 4 actual miles is a pretty good guess. Whatever the mileage, my calves are not happy about it right now. I love the running form I'm using because it doesn't hurt my knees, but it's hell on the calves...at least until I've built them up a bit. Overall, though, I'm happy with my running progress.

I alternated walking and running every other song yesterday, after the first mile or so. It would have been sooner than that, but Minnie's battery life indicator was being temperamental. She turned herself off 3 times in the first 5 minutes because of "low battery", despite being fully charged. I've read that this has something to do with the battery charge not registering correctly until the hard drive spins up fully, especially after long idle times...the problem being, the ipod shuts itself off before the hard drive can spin up enough to tell the battery life trigger that it's full. But usually I can just turn it on, let it die, then wait about a minute and turn it on again. Yesterday was the exception to the rule. I suspect that Minnie's been dropped on her head too many times. That's why I don't just call Apple and demand that they fix it. :)

ANYway, I'm debating now whether I should work out today. Between the spinning class Saturday (which was awesome, though I couldn't get my new cleats snapped into the pedals. Even using the toe baskets, though, the class was better with the stiffer shoes) and the running yesterday, my legs are unenthused by the prospect. And I'm super tired and crabby besides, so I may just go home and go to bed. Yeesh, I'm so romantic. Happy 1st married Valentine's Day, sweethe---zzzzz.

oh well.

After calling the doctor to find out what we can do since the provera didn't do its job, I've been advised to go back on the pill again. So, no babies for a while.

I'm a little bummed about it, but not much. As much as I wouldn't mind getting pregnant, a baby would add to our ever-burgeoning chaos. I was hoping to get pregnant mostly because Rob wants it so badly, and it would be something new. But realistically, this isn't the best time. The other house hasn't sold, one or the other of our cars is constantly in the shop, our house always looks like a cyclone came through, Noah's starting a new school tomorrow, we have five cats, I can never seem to finish anything, and I'm perpetually frustrated or bored senseless. I can't really say I'm hating my life right now, but I can't say I like it either. There's no reason to think that a baby would make any of that better...it'd just be one more thing to take care of.

In the time that it takes to get regulated, maybe I'll lose these last 40-45 lbs, sell the other house, get this house organized to my satisfaction, finally get some money in the bank, find a manageable routine, etc. And maybe I won't feel so angry all the time. Or maybe not.

You know, if I'm not going to have a period, would it be too much to ask to stop the PMS hormonal crap too? It's been 3 weeks, for goodness sake. I don't even want to live with me anymore.

weight loss, or lack thereof

Okay, I just have to say it. I've been holding back, trying to be optimistic, trying to put a positive spin on it, but...

GOD DAMN, WHAT'S A GIRL GOTTA DO TO LOSE A POUND AROUND HERE?!

I logged everything I ate last week. Everything. The grand total at the end of the day yesterday was 212.5 points for the week. Let's throw in 7.5 points for possible inaccuracies, and that's 220. 220/7= [30-second pause to type "calc" in the Run... box] 31.4 points per day. Let's round that up to 32, times 50 calories per point...1600 calories per day, give or take. And that doesn't even take into account any exercise (of which there was precious little anyway--oops).

According to this BMR calculator, my base metabolic rate should be around 1610 calories per day. Which means that I burned 70 calories more than I ate this week by doing NOTHING AT ALL.

Now, science tells us that I would have had to burn 3430 more calories than that to lose a pound this week. So I ran my average numbers through the same calculator--8 hours per day sitting on my ass in front of the computer, 2 hours/day puttering around, 30 minutes doing anything remotely strenuous. It set my energy requirements at over 2700 calories per day. Which is, of course, a huge lie, but let's just suppose, for the sake of argument, that it might really be around 2000 calories. 2000 - 1600 = 400 * 7 = 2800/3500 = 0.8 lbs.

Science tells me I should have lost over half a pound this week, and damn it, I want it. THE WORLD OWES ME THAT HALF POUND.

Am I outrageously bloated? Do I need to go back to a low-carb diet? Do I? Come on, body, what's a girl gotta do?

-------------------------------
This is all in jest, of course. I've been doing this long enough that I know that the math doesn't always work out.

I really just want to order my iPod, and I have told myself that I cannot order it until I break 180. I figure, at the rate I'm going, it will take the 6-weeks ship time to get to 176 from there. And that it will take me till July to get to 180.

Sigh. Enough with the whining, back to the working.

I put feelers out for realtors today. I went out to homegain.com and created a profile, then sat back and waited to be contacted by realtors that wanted to sell my house. In 4 hours, I've had 7 responses. I have no idea what I'm going to do next. Do I go by my gut, do I research credentials, a combination of both? I just want to sell it, the sooner the better.

I loved living in that neighborhood, in that house. It was the first place I ever lived that was truly mine. I owned it, and I still do. The house, the appliances, the deck, the yard...all legally owned by me (financially, the bank still owns most of it, of course). Everywhere I liked to go was nearby, and Noah's school and day care are just a half-mile down the road. We spent just about every Saturday last summer at the community pool. Our cats napped in the atrium window in the kitchen, or sunned by the patio door. If it was bigger or closer to where Rob works, we'd still be living there.

The house is still mine, but now my personality is gone from it. It's all Kat. It feels petty to say so, but I'm a little out of sorts about it at the moment. I'm still paying over half the bills there, but I feel like I'm intruding on someone else's space whenever I go there when she's not home. It's not anything she's done, really. Part of her personality is to take control, to take over everything in her path and make it her own. She can't help it, any more than I can help being mousy and pathologically averse to any kind of conflict. And I do want her to feel at home as long as she lives there. Same with my brother Ryan, once he gets there this week. Still, I'll feel much better once it's sold to strangers and there's no inner conflict anymore over whether it's still my home.

Mmm...angsty. Probably the rain, messing with my mood.

Anyhoo, I was back down to 181 today, mostly due to the gallon of water I drank yesterday. Today, I haven't drunk any, unless you count the water content of a tall frappucino and an iced tea. I'm all about the extremes, I guess. Food hasn't been great today either--the frap was my breakfast, and I had buffalo wings and fries for lunch. (Note to self: THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T EAT BREAKFAST.)

Since Apple had extended their ship time on the iPod mini to 6 weeks the last time I checked, I've been toying with the idea of ordering mine now so that it's here when I hit 176. Then I tell myself, "But Joy, at the rate you're going, it'll sit in the box till December, and you'll just be out $250 six months early." Then I tell myself to shut up, but decide not to buy one anyway. I'll wait until I actually break 180, at least.

Speaking of Ryan, he called me last night. As it turns out, a girl he worked with in Milwaukee was chosen as a contestant on that Sw@n show (K3lly B, for anyone who follows it). He had mentioned it when he was down here for the wedding, saying "I don't know why they picked her...she was hot already."

Her show was on last night, but he couldn't watch it because he'd be in his car 100 miles from Memphis at the time it came on. Could we tape it for him? Yes, we could.

This is the first (and last) time I watched the show, and we only watched far enough to see my brother's friend. I hate the premise of this show almost as much as I hated the notion of "Married by America". First, they choose these women and point out everything that they already think is wrong with them, and then they tell them the answer is plastic surgery, training, and therapy. Even after all that, they choose only the better transformation to be in their beauty pageant. Maybe it's my own low self-esteem talking, but that's just mean. It says to me, "Sure, you look great, but even at your greatest, you just aren't quite good enough." Whatever.

Rob disagrees with me. He looks at it another way..."sure, some of them don't make the pageant. But even if they don't, they still go home with thousands of dollars in plastic surgery, months of personal training, and look better than they did when they started. They're not losing anything."

As for K3lly, I couldn't help but feel for her. I'm inclined to agree with Ryan's assessment--she was a pretty girl already. Sure, there was a bump in her nose...but if she didn't obsess over it, I wouldn't have noticed it. And she was underweight...which I was surprised to see on this show, for some reason. Her biggest problem was how she thought of herself, her low self-image brought on by kids picking on her when she was a kid. She was assigned to a nosejob, some other minor surgeries, a personal trainer and a 2300 calorie diet to put on 15 lbs of muscle, and therapy to work on her self-esteem.

I didn't watch the whole show, so I don't know how it turned out for her. Maybe I'll watch it when Ryan comes into town, but probably not. I took a few things away from watching her story, though:

1. The reality TV trend needs to end. Seriously.
2. If I have anything to say about it, my kids will never bully anyone ever.
3. Skinny little pretty girls have their demons, too.

ahem

definitely not dead, thanks for asking.

There are several reasons for my absence, the biggest one being that up until Monday morning, I was looking at a whopping 6 lb. gain this week. I mean, I can tell myself that it's not real all I want, but that doesn't keep my heart from sinking when I see that 188 staring back at me. I'm just saying.

I'm also in a training class this week offsite, which only gives me internet access on breaks. To my own surprise, I've found that I don't even want to touch the computer on breaks. I brought, like, 10 books and two magazines with me in my bag, so there's enough to do. It also doesn't hurt that the training building is adjacent to the Galleria, and that's some serious shopping territory there. (Though today I felt unfit for the Galleria crowd...most the regular shoppers are seriously out of my league. I'm on more of an Old Navy kind of budget right now). So yeah, haven't been getting on the computer much.

In fact, I've been wondering lately whether I want to keep doing this at all. The web thing, I mean, not the fitness thing. For a couple years now, I've immersed myself in the blogosphere, and the fascination is sort of wearing off for me. In a lot of ways, it's a good thing. I'm more interested in other, more important things--Noah, Rob, reading good books, my career, church, what I want out of life.

This blog and the others aren't really getting me anywhere. Not that I started them expecting to go anywhere, but I did start them because it was fun to write every day. Now it's not really fun anymore, because I don't know how to get back to that place where I was good at it. Let's face it--I haven't been writing anything remarkable for a long time now. Months. Maybe a year or more. I have to face the facts--all my blogs except this one have outlived their usefulness, and it's time to file the database backups and delete them from movable type. But not this one.

Why not this one? Because one of the biggest reasons I've done as well as I have on my weight-loss program (the last few weeks notwithstanding) is that this site gave me someone to be accountable to. Paper journalling wouldn't have given me that, and won't if I choose to shut down this site. Sure, I don't really know anyone that reads here, but some of the comments (nice and not so nice) keep me motivated in a way that I can't do by myself. So this one's going to be around for at least a little while longer. It might just be weigh-in updates, but it will be here.

Not sure why I even posted that, but there it is.

and then there were two

Two of our kittens were adopted tonight. We're down to just the two boys. I'm not really sure how mama cat is going to do...we weren't really fully prepared for two of them to go tonight. They had only intended to adopt one of them, but then once they got here, they decided to take both the girls. We also weren't sure if they were going to take them home tonight, since they haven't had their first shots yet. But they did, and now we're down to just two kittens. I'm not sure who's taking it worst--mama cat, Rob, or me. Noah's the only one who seems to be fine with it.

It was going to happen eventually...we couldn't very well keep 9 cats. Still, there's a part of me that just wants to call them up and tell them to bring our kitties back, to give us just one more week. Sigh.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

This, combined with the fact that I have gained 4 lbs. in 3 days, is totally ruining my sense of wedding peace.

Sweet Jesus, I'm going to be a bride

We had our ceremony meeting with our pastor and his wife tonight. Before the meeting, I was only slightly nervous about getting married...now I'm absolutely terrified.

So what was it that set me off? The lifelong commitment? The half a dozen things left to do before the big day? The money? Nope...it was one phrase in one sentence in an offhand part of the conversation:

"...and then everyone will stand up and turn around to watch the bride..."

HOLY SHIT. I almost passed out right there at the Starbucks. How did I not remember that part? Did I block it out? Repress it? How could I not remember that for the entire time I'm walking down that aisle, every eye in the place is going to be on me? And that they're all going to be standing up like I'm the f---ing queen of the world? And that they're going to continue to watch Robert and me throughout the entire 20-minute ceremony. Watching me. Every move I make. If I scratch my nose, 86 people will see me do it.

I've heard that phrase "it's all about the bride" about 10,000 times in the past 9 months, and I've even said it jokingly a few times. But it wasn't until about an hour and a half ago that it fully registered that I am the bride in this scenario.

I may be overreacting just a little bit...but I've never been good with being the center of attention. Trusted relatives tell me that I cried at my third birthday party because everyone was looking at me when I blew out the candles. When I gave my speech at HS graduation (salutatorian), I had the entire thing written on three index cards and read it word for word. There was a scary moment where I lost my place and had to wing it a little. It took me an hour and a half to quit shaking after that. Hell, if I thought this site had more than 6-7 readers, I'd probably shut it down because the pressure to say something worthwhile would be too much to bear. And now I'm going to try to be a bride?

What was I thinking?!

Once again, things that could have been brought to my attention YESTERDAY

180 today. I swear, one more low Thursday, and my weigh-in day is definitely changing.

*whimper* *twitch*

I miss my debit card.

No less than five times today, I've clicked on a website's "add to shopping cart" button, gotten into the checkout process, then realized that I CAN'T F--KING BUY ANYTHING.

I may have to reconsider that whole, "I'm not dependent, I can quit anytime I want" thing with regard to online shopping. Or actually pay down my credit cards so I can start using them again in these sorts of emergencies**.

**The latest "emergency"? Trying to buy Carmen Electra "Fit to Strip" DVD recommended at the Donut. Before that it was a book. Before that, iTunes.

Once again, not having access to the debit card is probably a good thing.

Old Navy can kiss my fat ass

Yeah, so that bad mood? Not really going away.

I wore my old 38/30 Old Navy men's khakis to work today, but regretted it by 10:00. Without a belt, they fall down around my hips (which still hold them up quite well...sigh) and annoy me. With a belt, they bunch at the waist and annoy me. Which means that I cannot wear them anymore, and reduces my work wardrobe to 3 pairs of pants. Since there are five days in the work week and I hate skirts, I decided to go buy some new pants at lunch.

I went to Ross first, and managed to find one pair of work pants (14s!) that fit well enough that I would actually, you know, wear them to work. They're gray, though, and I was really in the market for khaki. Since I did not want to be in Ross for another single fucking minute, I paid for my gray pants and hoped for better luck at Old Navy.

Maybe it's just that one location, but they're worse than Ross when it comes to putting things in the correct order and/or the correct hangers. (And that's saying a lot.) It took me five full minutes to find one pair of size 16 regular khakis, I had to look at every tag on the rack to do it, and the pants were packed in so tightly that they were practically screaming. On my way through, I grabbed a 14 long, too, just to see what the fit was going to be like.

In the dressing room, the frustration grew. I tried on the 16s first, which fit fine through the hips and thighs, but were totally unflattering and gapped enough at the waist to carry a small child in the back of my pants. I tried on the 14s then, which fit fine at the waist but practically cut off circulation in the thighs. I stormed out of the store, mumbling about how Old Navy must design their clothes for theoretical fucking flat-assed stick people. Or something like that.

I mean, really. I know I have a big lower body. I know this. Even when I was a little thing, most of me was below the waist. It's in the genes--my grandmother, my cousins, my aunt, all pears. It's the reason that I don't think that my size will ever be below a 10, even if I get to where I can put someone's eye out with my hip bones (not planning to get there, btw). I'm totally fine with that. What I'm NOT totally fine with is the complete lack of cheap clothing designed with my ass and thighs in mind. I'm not made of money, here. Just once, I'd like to buy pants at Target or Old Navy that had room for my thighs without leaving nine yards of extra crotch and waistband. Just once.

That's all I'm sayin.

kill.

The theme for the day is anger. I'm not angry AT anyone, or ABOUT anything...just angry. I've been pissed off since I woke up, and there's really nothing I or anyone else can do to shake it. I doubt that a 5-lb. loss on the scale this morning would have been any better for my mood than the maintain was. I just feel like being angry. At everyone. About everything.

Except you, of course.

Wendie update

my ability to stick to my Wendie number is flagging. I have lost no weight this week...in fact, I have gained half a pound. I have also been extremely bitchy, which leads me to believe that this will all be resolved sometime next week.

Also, my car is having brake issues, so I skipped the sculpting class so that someone could give me a ride back from the mechanic on their lunch break. As if I really needed another hole to drop money into. Sigh.

all about the biscuits

I went food-crazy this weekend. It will not be recorded. Suffice it to say that there was pizza involved. And fried chicken with biscuits. The rumors of homemade jam and chocolate aren't entirely unsubstantiated either.

After much soul-searching, I've decided it's totally over between me and the South Beach Diet. We just were not meant to be. Does this mean I'm going to be going back to being a total carb-whore? No, probably not. I'm just tired of cooking, and worrying about where a food lies on the almighty glycemic index. I would like my convenience foods back, please.

On other fronts, I am toeing the verge of going completely batshit insane. I can't get a handle on things. I know that I'm sending incredibly bitchy emails to people, which is out of character for me. Not to mention the confusing, rambling phone messages that end with "yeah, so, um, I don't really know what I'm saying anymore, but call me back." It's about to come to blows with the company we bought the bed from (who cannot seem to understand that the "after March 2nd" delivery we requested is NOT the same thing as "on March 2nd" or "any-fucking-time that is convenient for the delivery company", and that I can't give them money I don't have, and knew I wouldn't have, and if they'd just read the delivery instructions correctly, they would have realized that without having to call us 6 times and counting).

Ahem.

So yeah, not much with the inner peace right now. At least the (inevitable) weight gain from my weekend eating hasn't shown up yet. Today, that would send me over the edge.

not quitting

I'm not quitting. I'm just taking a break for a while. There'll be a weigh in this week, maybe. Definitely one at the 1st wed of next month. My motivation has taken a hiatus, so I figure I will too.

I'm tired of counting points, of planning every meal, of thinking about food all the time. So I'm just not going to do it for a while. Hopefully, I can behave and I won't gain much back. Hopefully, I'll still feel like working out 5 times a week.

And if I don't, who cares? I've lost 31 lbs. Those other 50 will come off eventually. It's not like I don't know how to do it. For now, I'm going to set my focus elsewhere. I don't know for how long.

See you at next weigh-in Wednesday...could be this week, could be next month.

it just swole right up on me

So, weigh-in's tomorrow. Anyone care to guess what my weight is right now? Anyone?

192. one hundred-frickin'-92.

I haven't been eating the best for the past few days, but it hasn't gone over 1600 calories or so (except for Friday). Surely this is not fat. Rob says I'm retaining water after the ride Sunday. That's probably true, since my engagement ring is tighter, and I feel puffy all through the middle. But how do I get rid of it??

I've been trying to be extra careful with the food today...egg white omelet, some coffee, a piece of toast, a banana. I'm going to walk for my lunch hour, and I'm thinking of trying one of those burger king chicken baguette things, with the side salad and everything. That'll put me at about 17 points for the day, and if I do something light for dinner...I could actually--gasp!--not use any flexpoints today. Considering that I'm at a -2 balance for this week, that's probably for the best. And if I drink a lot of water, too, and lay off the salt as much as possible, maybe that will be enough to flush out whatever water my body's still holding.

I really, really don't want to post a 2-lb. gain tomorrow. Really, really.

oh, nothing

I have been Workout Girl this week. Two days into the week, I have 11 activity points. On Sunday, I'll be earning the whopping 18 for the 40-mile ride. Gosh, have I mentioned the Bike for Sight ride much? Yeesh...seems like I'm talking about it every second. Sorry. It's just on my mind constantly, because I've never gone that far before, and I haven't trained all that much lately.

I did go for an 11-or-so mile ride last night after work. Biking's hard at night, though, because I'm all tired, and there's too much traffic on the roads. I end up having to stop at every intersection, and it's so much harder to get going from a stop. Speaking of which...the drivers in my neighborhood are really starting to piss me off.

First, there's the people who don't understand that bikes have the same right to be on the road as cars. We need to follow the same rules of the road, and I like to be courteous to faster-moving vehicles and stay as far to the right as possible. HOWEVER....technically, I am using the same lane they are (if there is no bike lane), and I have the same right to use all of it. There are obstacles on the roadway, such as uneven road seams, sewer grates, large puddles, and potholes, that are much more of a hazard to a cyclist than they are to a driver. I always check to be sure that there are no cars immediately behind me if I swing around to avoid one of these things, but still it never fails that some dumbass two carlengths behind me will lay on the horn. And then there's the guys who allow, like, 2 inches clearance when passing me, even if there's no one else on the road and I'm practically hugging the curb. Jackasses.

The problem isn't always that the drivers are rude, either. Sometimes they're too accommodating. Once again, I have to follow the same set of traffic laws cars do. If a car has to yield at a 4-way stop, so do I. (Full disclosure, though, I do blow through them if there's no one coming. I would in my car, too, if my neighborhood didn't have its own sheriff's patrols.) And yet, even if I get to an 4-way stop a full 10 seconds after a car, they still wave me through. After I've stopped, and with this exasperated hand flit, like it's my fault that they've arbitrarily chosen to let me go first. If they're going to be "nice", I would at least like them to do it BEFORE I come to a complete stop, otherwise it's a waste of my time AND theirs.

Whew. There, I feel better. Now, what was I talking about? Oh, never mind.

why, oh, why

why am I having an off-plan day today? You'd think with the suck-ass weigh in I had this morning, I'd be trying to survive on nothing but carrot sticks and water. Instead, I've had a cold pizza breakfast, a semi-healthy lunch, and ice cream in the afternoon. Can I pull myself together, please? Yeesh.

I guess I just make this a Scarlett O'Hara moment..."Tomorrow is another day." As long as I don't do the same thing tomorrow.

(I hated the ending of Gone With the Wind. Would it have killed her to tell us how it all turned out??)

fun with eTools

The "new math" that WW eTools seems to be doing with my points tracker is starting to piss me off.

Case in point: This morning, I ate 1 Hershey miniature. A serving is 5 miniatures for 5 points. The Points tracker correctly assessed my 1 miniature as 1 point.

5 hours later, (right before I threw all the remaining minis in the trash) I ate the remainder of the 5-piece serving. When I plugged 4 Hershey's miniatures into eTools, it came up with 4.5 points. So let's see...if I eat the serving all at once, it's 5 points, but if I eat one in the morning and 4 in the afternoon, it's 5.5? No sense.

Now, before you get to talking about the formulas and the rounding and whatnot, I am well-acquainted with mathematical formulas and rounding to the nearest whatever. I understand such things. There's probably just enough fat in four of the little buggers to set off that extra half-point. Still, it's annoying, and it's not the only food that has discrepancies.

A 1 oz piece of sirloin is 1 point, but an 8-oz steak is 11 points.

One kiwi is 1 point, but 2 are 1.5 points (that one's actually in my favor, but illustrates the same phenomenon).

There's dozens of others, enough that I've taken to entering things into the tool in the most point-friendly combinations. You'd think they'd make it more uniform...

Other than that, though, I love eTools.

fucking it up already

barely one week into a new 4-week period, and already I'm blowing a goal. As of this morning, I am 10 flexpoints in the hole. *sigh* And that's being generous, since I know there are things that I "forgot" to journal yesterday. Not to mention that free day on Saturday. Why can't I stay on track? Why am I not happy with a good week unless I can follow it by 6 or so bad ones?

I'm hoping the damages won't be too bad tomorrow, but I'm not optimistic. Oh well...tomorrow starts a new week.

*yawn*

I want to sleep for a year. That's not really too much to ask, is it? Just get in bed right now, wake up sometime next summer? Hell, Rip Van Winkle slept for 20 years, all I'm asking for is one. What's that you say? He's a character in a fairy tale? Not real at all? You're sure? And I'd miss my wedding? Well, never mind then.

I really do need some sleep pretty badly, though. I'm totally falling asleep at my desk right now. I'm really looking forward to the three day weekend, because that leaves one day that I don't have to get up at the crack of dawn. Champions fit is at 6:35 Saturday morning...it just keeps getting earlier. I'm halfway hoping it rains so I can talk myself out of going. I know--BAD. But that's so, soooo early. I don't even get up that early to go to work.

I know what you're thinking..."if you're so tired, why don't you go to bed earlier, Joy?" I've been wondering the same thing lately. The short answer is that I just can't. I'm not built that way. The only time I've ever been able to go to sleep before 10 is when I've run myself so ragged that I pass out at, like, 4 in the afternoon. I'm headed for that now, I think. I haven't had a full night's sleep in 2-3 months, probably.

I'm just bone tired, kids. I'm so tired, nothing sounds good to me anymore. I can't get into anything. Work? Who cares. Exercise? Later. Pint of ice cream while sitting on the couch doing word puzzles? Bring it on! (But that's BAD.)

I want my house to be clean. I want my wedding to be planned. I want my routine back. And I want to sleep. For a year.

Is that so much to ask? Hell, Rip Van--what? I did this bit already? Well, never mind then.

see-saw, teeter totter...

...back & forth, up and down. It's the story of my life. I'm back up to 191 today, after fluctuating between 190 and 193 for the past three days.

191 isn't bad, and I still may lose some more by tomorrow if I'm careful. I'm not upset about it because it's totally my own fault. Totally. I forgot to take the pills again. So my hormone levels are all messed up, my weight is yo-yoing, and I feel like crap all the time.

I don't know why this is so hard for me. I've had this problem every time I've tried to take BC pills. I can't remember to take them, and then I give up on them completely, only to not have a TOM for a couple years and go back on them again for 6 months until I get so frustrated with the forgetting that I quit again. Repeat until insane.

This whole weight loss thing makes it worse, though, because I actually care whether the scale is up or down a pound on any given day, and I can't indulge the freaky mood swings with tons of chocolate, either. So, if I'm going to have TOMs like a normal woman, AND lose weight, I need to stay on the pills. In order to stay on the pills, I have to remember to take the pills every day. I can't even remember where I parked the car this morning. Talk about your mission impossible.

So anyway, unless there's some kind of miracle between now and tomorrow morning, I'm not going to break 190 this month. Oh, well.

let the weeping and gnashing of teeth commence

I realized on Saturday that this is the last week in a 4-week period. When I started it, I was at 191. As of this morning, I was at 193.5. I wanted to be between 185 and 187. To throw my Biggest Loser goal into this (since that contest is ending next week, too), I wanted 175. I'm not even close.

What the hell happened? The best I can really hope for at weigh-in Wednesday is 192. That means in four weeks, I've gained a pound. Woo hoo! Go me!

I know setbacks are a part of this. I know that I really haven't been trying very hard lately. I know that I'm overtired and crabby today because I was up half the night playing a game more addictive than crack. Nobody said weight loss was going to be easy, or consistent, or anything of the sort. I just feel like wallowing right now.

talking to myself

Joy, what's the matter with you? I would not be at all surprised to see a gain tomorrow, even up from where you are now. Your eating has been utterly out of control for the last 4 days, and you haven't worked out since, what? Thursday?

What's it going to take? Getting back up over 200 lbs? You are sooo not going back there. It's time to quit with the slacking, no matter how stressful, no matter how discouraging, no matter how boring life is. Just get this done--you have not come this far to quit now.

another pointless update

194 today. Must...stay...optimistic. Must...not...get...frustrated. Weigh-in day is not for another 5 days. But...

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!? MY POINTS AVERAGE IS 28! 28! I SHOULD BE LOSING AT 28!

Ahem. In other news, I can no longer get to the sites hosted at losin-it.com from work anymore. The net nanny software thinks they're porn, as of this morning. No idea why. (Have you ladies been posting the nekkid pictures again? *grin*) I'm going to have to start checking them from home, but I may have to remove them from the blogroll to keep myself from flagging HR 6 times a day when I do the work-avoidance click-throughs.

hello, plateau, nice to meet you...

...not.

I've come to the conclusion that my body likes the low 190s. Loves them. Wants to stay there the rest of my frickin' life, if I let it. For the past couple days the scale has been going in the exactly wrong direction. In fact, at this rate, I'll bet that I'm at 195 by tomorrow. Woo!

I don't know what to do, other than just ride it out. Maybe it's bloat. Maybe I really have gained 3 lbs. of fat this week. Maybe I've gained some muscle. Maybe in the dead of night, I was impregnated by aliens. Who knows?

Whatever the case, I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing, and hope that eventually, it will start going down again. I gotta tell you, though...this is really messing with my average weight loss per week. If it goes down below 1/2 a pound, I'm going to cry.

what the...?

that cannot be right. That CAN. NOT. BE. RIGHT. 194.5? Nude? First thing in the morning? Yesterday, it was 191. What the fuck?

Weigh in day is not a good day to be doing this to me, body. You've got 1 hour to straighten up and fly right...

UPDATE: Okay, I must be rational about this (after trying to walk it off for nearly 4 miles, taking a shower, and making a pot of coffee). There is no way that I gained 3.5 lbs of fat overnight. Looking at my body, it looks like bloat. Considering that I ate a carb-o-riffic burrito at lunch yesterday, and a casserole at 7 pm last night, that's not terribly surprising.

If I wait until the 10 am meeting, maybe I can shed some of it. Anyone know of a way to shed 2 lbs. of bloat in a little over an hour?

Dammit. I'm tellin' ya...nothing but meat and salads next Friday.

something new

this biggest losers contest is depressing the shit out of me. I thought it would be a good motivator, but those folks on the leader board are losing, like, 5-10 lbs a week! I, on the other hand, keep losing and gaining the same pound and a half.

(whine)

Why am I not losing 5-10 lbs. a week?

(/whine)

I'll tell you why. Because I have been doing this for 5 months, and I also have been totally slacking off for the past 3 weeks. It's time for a change, time for something new. Not to mention (and yet I keep mentioning it over and over again, ad nauseum) The Wedding is just 9 months away. And even sooner than that, I've got the end of the Contest With No Name between Robert and me. That ends at the beginning of December, and I was planning on being at 150 by then. I can't even seem to break 190, and there's only 5 months to go till the deadline. I must beat Robert, at least, even if I have no hope of being the biggest loser in the blogosphere. Beating Robert is a moral imperative...besides, I can't really afford Super Bowl tickets.

So, what to do? Over the course of this journey, I've come to realize that when it comes right down to it, food is really my problem. I don't do well when trying to stick to a strict diet, but I fall apart when there's not enough structure, too. I can't win. I'm totally bored with Weight Watchers now, and I can't stand the meetings. I like the points counting, but lately I haven't really been doing that either. I have just two more coupons left in the 10 weeks I bought in advance, so I'll be out of there in 2 weeks. I'm debating signing up for just their online tools. That's really all I need, and I can use my own scale for weigh-ins. I can also go back to using nude weights, which I prefer. I hate having to find the clothes that I wear for the weigh-ins so that I can stay consistent. I just don't do laundry often enough for that shit.

So anyway, I've been casting around the fitness journals, looking for a plan to try. Atkins is out, because I have some kind of weird aversion to that. It's not that I think it won't work...it's just I've been telling people for so long that I am NOT going to try Atkins, that I've backed myself into a corner. Now I can't try it even if I wanted to. Which I don't. REALLY. :)

I've seen some mutterings about Bernstein, but I don't know what that is, and it looks like it involves clinics and dues. I don't really want to bother with either of those things. Body for Life is a little too stringent for my liking...I'd get too discouraged and give it up entirely. I could go back to counting calories, I suppose, but then I'd get into that thing where I was eating nothing but ice cream and pizza. Nutrition would be a factor.

So I've given it some thought, and I've decided to give the South Beach Diet a go. I've been reading Heather's experiences with it over at Chrysalis, and it looks like it might be just the thing for a little pick-me-up. It's also a way to do a semi-low carb diet without giving in on my stubborn refusal to try Atkins. Win-win, baby!

So today over lunch, I'm going to find a bookstore and buy a book on the South Beach diet. I'll read the book thoroughly this week (no, really--I will. No skimming through to the good parts, like the last 10 diet books I've read), then start that diet next week...which--behold!--coincides with a new 4-week period.

I have no satisfactory conclusion for this entry. So, um, woohoo! New plan!

in no mood

I am just not in the mood to be on a diet today. There's nothing really wrong...in fact, there are some things that are going really well. My brain's just a little chaotic today, and I just don't feel like being a good little point-counter. Since I'm going to blow it anyway, I may as well just plan for it. I'm not going to record anything I eat today. And you can't make me! :)

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

what the hell is wrong with me?! I just can. not. stop. eating. crap.

Last night, coming home from work, I was so proud of myself because I had managed to skip candytime and I had 8 points left for dinner. So what do I do?

Take Noah to CiCi's Pizza. I told myself I was just going to eat one slice. Just one. That's only 5-6 points...I can eat just one. BUT I CAN'T EAT JUST ONE. Another 35-40 point day, I'm sure.

And let's get to the exercise, shall we? In that, 2 days have gone by this week with none whatsoever. AAARGH!

I think this is what the experts refer to as "sabotaging your own success". I do it in most things...it's not that surprising that I'd do it in weight loss. Afraid to fail, afraid to succeed, anything that might change the place I am right this minute, no matter how much it SUCKS. But it needs to fucking stop. Now.

(Maybe it will be better when PMS is over.)

whiiiiiiine

I'm tired. I don't want to do this anymore. My house is a wreck, and I know that I'm going to spend most of the weekend cleaning. There's supposed to be a chance of rain tomorrow, so all this beautiful weather we've been having will be gone before I can really enjoy it. Hopefully I can get a bike ride or walk in tomorrow morning before the rain. Or maybe tonight.

It's not that I want to quit. It's just getting harder and harder to find my motivation lately. I mean, 10 1/2 weeks and I'm down only 12 lbs. I know that's over a pound a week, but damn. I have 70 more to lose, here. I wanted to be down below 200 by March. Now it doesn't look like I'm even going to be there by the end of March. I was so excited at the start, and I have made some progress. My legs are much smaller than they were, and my arms look better, even though I don't know how big they were when I started.

Still, I know that the slow pace is my own doing. I have food issues, and I'm lazy by nature. If I could just be consistent about making exercise part of my routine, this would be going faster. I know I'm not doing badly, but I also know I could be doing so much better. It's frustrating.

On the food thing, I'm tempted to go back to the strictness of those first few weeks. But then I think to myself..."then what happens when you go back to a regular diet?" I'm afraid the answer is that I balloon up to the 200s again, and I do not want to ever be back up here again (assuming that I ever get down to where I want to be).

Sigh. I knew when I started this that I would have to be in it for the long haul. After all, it took me 10 years to get up to 217 from 130. Naturally, it's going to take some time to get back down. And it's going to take consistency, and patience, and all those qualities that I struggle with in all aspects of my life.

Why's this gotta be so hard??

WTF?!

How in the bloody hell can I be putting on weight while consistently eating below maintenance calories? I mean, I can deal with only losing a little weight. I can deal with retaining water. I can deal with blaming it on lack of exercise.

But it is beyond frustrating to eat 1200-1500 calories a day for 4 weeks, lose 11.5 lbs, calculate your maintenance calories at 2500, then go up to around 1700 and gain a half pound. Yeah, I know...it's only a half pound. And it may be water, it may be muscle, it may be whatever. But right now, it just pisses me off. All I can see is a future where I'm eating 1800 calories a day for the rest of my life, and putting on weight until I'm roughly the size of an Indian elephant.

Sigh.