Saturday, April 30, 2005
delighting in the big ball and one pooped poochie
So I took Nick the dog for a nice, long 45-minute walk through the nature preserve trails, and man is that dog tired. Still cute and sweet, though. I, on the other hand, had the energy to try out my new core secrets ball and DVD and found it most amusing and only slightly challenging. Now I'll have to buy the extra DVDs. It's fun, let me tell you. Nick was looking at me like I was nuts, then I swear he started making the same motions with his legs. Fit and flabuless is contagious!
As for the eating, getting out of the house was a good idea. Not only did I walk and pounce on the bouncy ball, but I hauled my ass to the library, the video store and Meijer where I stocked up on more low carb yogurt, squirt cream, and laughing cow because they were on sale. And I bought three bottles of white wine--now it's officially summerish. I declare. Oh, plus strawberries, broccoli, raspberries and mushrooms in the fresh department. Made myself a fine dinner of brown rice pasta (quite good, actually and none of the nasty gluten in the regular kind) with every damn vegetable in the house: asparagus,spinach, garlic, sun dried tomatoes (not technically a vegetable, I know), broccoli, shallots, plus a few squirts of butterific spray, some parmesan cheese and a spoonful of chili garlic sauce. Tasty. Then I couldn't resist one of my yogurt sundaes following two bran crackers topped with neufchatel, smoked salmon and chives from the garden (I felt I needed some protein if this meal was gonna stick). Now I'm having some cocoa spice tea with milk and splenda and watching a fil-um. Wish you were here. We'd be laughing our heads off, sitting on the deck in our sweats and perhaps into the second bottle of wine. Better than tea and mooooovie. Oh! I also got The Hamilton Case and Narcissus in Chains (the only Laurell K. Hamilton book not checked out) plus several books written by people I'll be taking classes from next year. We'll see how far I get before the weekend's out. . . .
Hope yer having a fine time of it. Ciao bella.
As for the eating, getting out of the house was a good idea. Not only did I walk and pounce on the bouncy ball, but I hauled my ass to the library, the video store and Meijer where I stocked up on more low carb yogurt, squirt cream, and laughing cow because they were on sale. And I bought three bottles of white wine--now it's officially summerish. I declare. Oh, plus strawberries, broccoli, raspberries and mushrooms in the fresh department. Made myself a fine dinner of brown rice pasta (quite good, actually and none of the nasty gluten in the regular kind) with every damn vegetable in the house: asparagus,spinach, garlic, sun dried tomatoes (not technically a vegetable, I know), broccoli, shallots, plus a few squirts of butterific spray, some parmesan cheese and a spoonful of chili garlic sauce. Tasty. Then I couldn't resist one of my yogurt sundaes following two bran crackers topped with neufchatel, smoked salmon and chives from the garden (I felt I needed some protein if this meal was gonna stick). Now I'm having some cocoa spice tea with milk and splenda and watching a fil-um. Wish you were here. We'd be laughing our heads off, sitting on the deck in our sweats and perhaps into the second bottle of wine. Better than tea and mooooovie. Oh! I also got The Hamilton Case and Narcissus in Chains (the only Laurell K. Hamilton book not checked out) plus several books written by people I'll be taking classes from next year. We'll see how far I get before the weekend's out. . . .
Hope yer having a fine time of it. Ciao bella.
deadline met
Well. Fifteen minutes later, actually. But the sucker's been filed. And now I must admit that in the 45 minutes it took me to physically write the bitch, I did indeed eat the rest of that coconut-almond candy bar plus another one in dark chocolate minus nuts (both organic and from the health food store and so much more delicious than any Mounds or Almond Joy that has passed my lips) plus three of those damned bran crackers--two with peanut butter (thank God the jar is empty; too bad I have another one waiting in my pantry that is really more like its own room) and marmalade and one with I can't believe it's not butter spray (remember when Fabio was in their commercials?) and marmalade with a cup of tea. I guess I'll just call it lunch and be done with it for a while. I tell you, weekends are the bane of my diet. Must. Have. Structure. Or maybe just leaving the house would do it. There's just too damn much food here. Maybe that's the thing--keep less food in the house. Although it seems that backfires for you in terms of takeout options. Not such a problem here. Well damn. It'll take me a while to eat down all the stuff I've got, so I'll have to forget that plan. I think I'll take the shiny, silky poochie for a nice long walk. He was dancing around when I was trying to type, so I better indulge him. Loved ones--even in the form of pets--are good for indulging.
Stalling
Mm. Worse than Wasa. Kind of. Different. More fibrous, less easy to mask the cardboard-ness with laughing cows, if you know what I mean. But half the calories and twice the fiber--it all goes back to sometimes you need that. If yer interested, they have a website, singing their praises and magic benefits to dieters and diabetics ever'where, although I am certain you can find them at some health food store in Gotham. (where did that nickname come from? I always thought it was Batman, but that origin does not satisfy me. I'll go hunting, but I thought I'd check with you first.)
As for me, last night was an abomination. I think we should declare a moratorium on eating while talking on the phone to each other. We're just as bad as when we're on the loose together in damn near anywhere--why does food seem to be at the foundation of our friendship? Is it the nourishment factor? yes, methinks. Out friendship is fun, delightful and nourishing--exactly our relationship with food, save for when it goes awry and the food becomes a crutch and a destroyer--oh no! does our friendship do that? Sometimes I worry that when we love each other and try to ease each others pain at times, we're only making it manageable to continue in the path that doesn't fulfill. Am I making any sense? Why do i have to go so goddamn deep? Sheesh. Did I tell you about the bunny in the road? And no this is not a bad bar joke (back to the bar in a minute, though). Two nights ago I discovered a bunny in the middle of the road, so I slowed my car and watched it wriggle and writhe, unable to get out of the road. I didn't know what to do to help the poor, beautiful thing. So I parked the car and turned on my flashers, just so no one else could squish little Peter cottontail. I thought if I had a gun I'd shoot the little critter, put it out of its misery. Then I thought, do I scoop him up in a box and bring him to a 24 hour vet? What about Darwin? If I saved it, would I only be helping doom it to a slow death later . . . and on and on until a couple of burly guys came out of a garage and asked me what the hell I was doing. When I pointed out the half-dead bunny (that's exactly the phrase I used) one of the flannel-clad men went over, picked Peter up by his ears and proclaimed he had a broken leg. Then the guy carried Peter, by his ears off into the darkness. I got in my car, distressed, and drove home. I’ve had that bunny’s brown eyes and skeered look on his face in my head ever since. I believe I kept him from thoroughly getting squished by an oblivious (or just plain cruel) driver, but I don’t know if I did enough. Now I’m left thinking, am I the bunny? Is this one of those lucid metaphors placed in front of us to help on the journey to self-realization? Can’t wait to see Pam next week. . . .
Now, back to the issue at hand. No more eating together on the phone. I took out 10 fiber crackers with various spreadables on top, a package of fake crab, three smart dogs, two slices of fat free bologna, two servings of cheesecake pudding and three spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar, totaling somewhere around 900 calories, is my guess. And I should have been finished eating for the day! What I really wanted was a piece of banana cake from Water Street Coffee Joint, but denied myself the sinful pleasure on my drive home from the theatre. Damn giant slice of cake probably would have been half the calories. Sheesh. It all goes back to sometimes you just want what you want. But then again, sometimes—in fact all the time—I want a French toast bagel from panera toasted with butter on top, and once I have one, I’m a goner for the day. Seriously, yeasty delicious, warm breads are my crack. That’s why I eat fibrous Norwegian crackers that taste like ass. Although I went fucking hog wild with those last night, too.
Aargh. And god Damn.
I did get my Core Secret giant bouncy ball pumped full of air. I even bounced it around for fun and drove Nick wild. He was like a doggy Alice in wonderland, wondering, in fact, how he could get his jaws around such a delight to retrieve. He even scrunched up his nose in anticipation like he does for all delectable things. Oh how I love himself!
And I’m writing like a mofo cuz I still haven’t written the review, which also has everything to do with my—let’s face it—binge last night. Deadlines make me eat. Nerves. Perhaps I’ll dance instead. No more eating the nerves down, I’ll dance them away. I’ll let you know how that goes.
As for New Year’s your Scottish idea is a grand one, frankly. Do you know about (and I don’t know how to spell it, so I’ll write it phonetically) Hog-men-ay? It’s a great Celtic ritual for New Year’s in Edinburgh—apparently it’s crazier than Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and better I’m sure because it involves lots and lots of drunken Scots, who, yes, can be dangerous, but what truly marvelous thing isn’t? Last time I was in Edinburgh (10 years ago, mind you) I ended up hooking up with a blonde Irish boy (and I have some explicit sexual note about it but I know how squeamish you can be about such things so I’ll leave it out for your mental health today). Anywho, Edinburgh? For New Year’s? Whatever we do, let’s aim to ring in the New Year with someone a step above Mr. Stand Up Comic on the roof of O’Duffys. Let’s just send that request right out to the universe. IN fact, let’s aim even a little higher than that. I’ll work on it.
Okay. Now I really have to write that review. And no more eating until it’s done (omelet plus three cups coffee plus grapefruit following by (as the deadline pressure mounts) half a coconut chocolate bar. It’s not even 10:30 a.m.! I think I’ll be running and walking Nick lots and playing with my bouncy ball today. Plus, and this will horrify you and make you cry a little, I discovered I can get 12 half hour sessions with a trainer for $240 dollars, and I think I might do it. Hire someone to kick my ass and jumpstart this old wagon. I just don’t want to lose anymore muscle. It starts in our early 20s, you know. I don’t know if my subscription to Fitness mag is helping or hurting with all this information. I guess it all depends on what I do with it.
A request: think of ways we can truly support each other in our fit+flabuless quest rather than commiserate in our food+flabbiness. Also, please kick my ass when I need it. I am not making you responsible for my insanity, but a shove into reality is always helpful, and you always do it in a most delightful way. Xoxoxox.
As for me, last night was an abomination. I think we should declare a moratorium on eating while talking on the phone to each other. We're just as bad as when we're on the loose together in damn near anywhere--why does food seem to be at the foundation of our friendship? Is it the nourishment factor? yes, methinks. Out friendship is fun, delightful and nourishing--exactly our relationship with food, save for when it goes awry and the food becomes a crutch and a destroyer--oh no! does our friendship do that? Sometimes I worry that when we love each other and try to ease each others pain at times, we're only making it manageable to continue in the path that doesn't fulfill. Am I making any sense? Why do i have to go so goddamn deep? Sheesh. Did I tell you about the bunny in the road? And no this is not a bad bar joke (back to the bar in a minute, though). Two nights ago I discovered a bunny in the middle of the road, so I slowed my car and watched it wriggle and writhe, unable to get out of the road. I didn't know what to do to help the poor, beautiful thing. So I parked the car and turned on my flashers, just so no one else could squish little Peter cottontail. I thought if I had a gun I'd shoot the little critter, put it out of its misery. Then I thought, do I scoop him up in a box and bring him to a 24 hour vet? What about Darwin? If I saved it, would I only be helping doom it to a slow death later . . . and on and on until a couple of burly guys came out of a garage and asked me what the hell I was doing. When I pointed out the half-dead bunny (that's exactly the phrase I used) one of the flannel-clad men went over, picked Peter up by his ears and proclaimed he had a broken leg. Then the guy carried Peter, by his ears off into the darkness. I got in my car, distressed, and drove home. I’ve had that bunny’s brown eyes and skeered look on his face in my head ever since. I believe I kept him from thoroughly getting squished by an oblivious (or just plain cruel) driver, but I don’t know if I did enough. Now I’m left thinking, am I the bunny? Is this one of those lucid metaphors placed in front of us to help on the journey to self-realization? Can’t wait to see Pam next week. . . .
Now, back to the issue at hand. No more eating together on the phone. I took out 10 fiber crackers with various spreadables on top, a package of fake crab, three smart dogs, two slices of fat free bologna, two servings of cheesecake pudding and three spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar, totaling somewhere around 900 calories, is my guess. And I should have been finished eating for the day! What I really wanted was a piece of banana cake from Water Street Coffee Joint, but denied myself the sinful pleasure on my drive home from the theatre. Damn giant slice of cake probably would have been half the calories. Sheesh. It all goes back to sometimes you just want what you want. But then again, sometimes—in fact all the time—I want a French toast bagel from panera toasted with butter on top, and once I have one, I’m a goner for the day. Seriously, yeasty delicious, warm breads are my crack. That’s why I eat fibrous Norwegian crackers that taste like ass. Although I went fucking hog wild with those last night, too.
Aargh. And god Damn.
I did get my Core Secret giant bouncy ball pumped full of air. I even bounced it around for fun and drove Nick wild. He was like a doggy Alice in wonderland, wondering, in fact, how he could get his jaws around such a delight to retrieve. He even scrunched up his nose in anticipation like he does for all delectable things. Oh how I love himself!
And I’m writing like a mofo cuz I still haven’t written the review, which also has everything to do with my—let’s face it—binge last night. Deadlines make me eat. Nerves. Perhaps I’ll dance instead. No more eating the nerves down, I’ll dance them away. I’ll let you know how that goes.
As for New Year’s your Scottish idea is a grand one, frankly. Do you know about (and I don’t know how to spell it, so I’ll write it phonetically) Hog-men-ay? It’s a great Celtic ritual for New Year’s in Edinburgh—apparently it’s crazier than Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and better I’m sure because it involves lots and lots of drunken Scots, who, yes, can be dangerous, but what truly marvelous thing isn’t? Last time I was in Edinburgh (10 years ago, mind you) I ended up hooking up with a blonde Irish boy (and I have some explicit sexual note about it but I know how squeamish you can be about such things so I’ll leave it out for your mental health today). Anywho, Edinburgh? For New Year’s? Whatever we do, let’s aim to ring in the New Year with someone a step above Mr. Stand Up Comic on the roof of O’Duffys. Let’s just send that request right out to the universe. IN fact, let’s aim even a little higher than that. I’ll work on it.
Okay. Now I really have to write that review. And no more eating until it’s done (omelet plus three cups coffee plus grapefruit following by (as the deadline pressure mounts) half a coconut chocolate bar. It’s not even 10:30 a.m.! I think I’ll be running and walking Nick lots and playing with my bouncy ball today. Plus, and this will horrify you and make you cry a little, I discovered I can get 12 half hour sessions with a trainer for $240 dollars, and I think I might do it. Hire someone to kick my ass and jumpstart this old wagon. I just don’t want to lose anymore muscle. It starts in our early 20s, you know. I don’t know if my subscription to Fitness mag is helping or hurting with all this information. I guess it all depends on what I do with it.
A request: think of ways we can truly support each other in our fit+flabuless quest rather than commiserate in our food+flabbiness. Also, please kick my ass when I need it. I am not making you responsible for my insanity, but a shove into reality is always helpful, and you always do it in a most delightful way. Xoxoxox.
Thinagainbeginagain
I have been the opposite of good about doing my dieting lately, but I have managed to keep the takeout to a minimum this week (no Ruby Foos! Woot!) as I spent $100 on groceries that were delicious and good for me. In the last few days I have had some Special K, about 1.5 lbs. of berry goodness, an Amy's organic vegetarian enchilada pie, um, some spaghetti squash topped with veggie-sausage pasta sauce and roughly 2/3 of a 9" round strawberry bread heaped with fat-free whipped cream. (My bad.) And lots and lots of coffee. And yogurt. Mmmmm, yogurt.
I wish someone would invent donut-flavored yogurt. That would rawk.
I have been pretty consistent about my hexercise, having hit the gym 3 of the last five days, though I haven't been pushing myself beyond 40 minutes of cardio and my usual resistance routine. Dammit. Tomorrow morning I'll try to up it to an hour, but I may just be too tired. Aunt Flo's in town!
Cheers to your positive thinking. And next New Year in Paris! Or Barcelona? Or Venice? Praha? GLASGOW! (What? My new life goal is to be a dive/pub bartender, dude. How much fun will I have with the little sangrias? Eh? Those crazy Poles, on the other hand, they know their drunk.
I want to find me some of them thur GG crackers. They sound like they might taste like cork and sandpaper, but sometimes you need that. Here's my question: Better or worse than Wasa?
I wish someone would invent donut-flavored yogurt. That would rawk.
I have been pretty consistent about my hexercise, having hit the gym 3 of the last five days, though I haven't been pushing myself beyond 40 minutes of cardio and my usual resistance routine. Dammit. Tomorrow morning I'll try to up it to an hour, but I may just be too tired. Aunt Flo's in town!
Cheers to your positive thinking. And next New Year in Paris! Or Barcelona? Or Venice? Praha? GLASGOW! (What? My new life goal is to be a dive/pub bartender, dude. How much fun will I have with the little sangrias? Eh? Those crazy Poles, on the other hand, they know their drunk.
I want to find me some of them thur GG crackers. They sound like they might taste like cork and sandpaper, but sometimes you need that. Here's my question: Better or worse than Wasa?
Friday, April 29, 2005
weird shit, but delicious
Aha! We're up and running, hooray. I ran yesterday for the first time in a week and dang if I don't feel more human when I do that. Although my mary jane injury/bruised foot is none the better for it. Not to have been improved by a couple of hours in pointe shoes last night. Alas, one must suffer to be . . . fit, perhaps in addition to beautiful? Cruel world.
Youse a funny lady droppin' your bfast on the floor. Did you eat the dropped half? You know I would have; in fact, I think once something has hit the floor, its calories are reduced by half. . . .
Okay, it's precisely that sort of self-delusion that will not aid on our journey to fit+flabuless. Support, not co-dependence in debauchery. Righ'.
Which brings me to the weird shit, but delicious part of what I wanted to write. I have discovered some mighty tasty diet food, that I believe even when I overindulge leaves me feeling thinnish the next morning (the thinnish are related to the Finnish and the Dublish when they don't drink too much Guinnish). SO here goes: Dannon Light 'n Fit Carb control yogurt in vanilla cream flavor. It comes in packs of four little containers that total a mere 60 calories a pop. Add a little Walden Farms calorie free chocolate syrup, a few raspberries and a few squirts of Redi-Whip fat free whoop cream, and you got yerself something to moan over (i know, I know--it's been a while, we all know). It also works with the strawberry cream flavored yogurt, although your delight in that combo will depend entirely on your tolerance for fakey strawberry flavor.
I'm also into little apples, fluffy omelettes made with three egg whites and a whole egg plus a chopped tomato and a slice of fat free american single cheese (although I've never before encountered a "cheese" that is bright orange and coats my teeth; delicious nonetheless, especially with fresh parsley mixed into the eggs to make une omelette fromage aux fines herbs--I find if I indentify something in French, it lends immediate elegance--something that is all too lacking in the orange goo that sticks to my teeth). What else? Luna bars, especially nuts over chocolate and chocolate pecan pie flavors and chocolate brownie clif bars; amy's organic soups and dinners; my lemony crab soup I told you about and skinny cow (that's what we'll become by our new year's holiday abroad) fudge bars. And I've done the unthinkable and purchased fat free bologna. Which I like. Nicely garlic-y and pairs nicely with the garlic and herb laughing cow cheese wedges on fiberific crackers of one sort or another for lunch. And fat-free, skim, decaf lattes with cinnamon and splenda.
I can't believe I'm putting all this in print.
I know one day I'll say to myself why all the fake food? This can't possibly be nourishing. But until then, I'll enjoy the strange adventure.
I've also been calculating my calories, and except for weekends when I go hog wild, I'm taking in around 1300-1700 calories a day, which should result in a 1-2 pound loss per week. Which, I've decided, is fast enough, cuz just think: there are 36 weeks left in the year. How fit and flabuless (and less flatulent) will we be toasting 2006 beneath L'tour Eiffel (or beneath a couple of spicy Spaniards!)?
Youse a funny lady droppin' your bfast on the floor. Did you eat the dropped half? You know I would have; in fact, I think once something has hit the floor, its calories are reduced by half. . . .
Okay, it's precisely that sort of self-delusion that will not aid on our journey to fit+flabuless. Support, not co-dependence in debauchery. Righ'.
Which brings me to the weird shit, but delicious part of what I wanted to write. I have discovered some mighty tasty diet food, that I believe even when I overindulge leaves me feeling thinnish the next morning (the thinnish are related to the Finnish and the Dublish when they don't drink too much Guinnish). SO here goes: Dannon Light 'n Fit Carb control yogurt in vanilla cream flavor. It comes in packs of four little containers that total a mere 60 calories a pop. Add a little Walden Farms calorie free chocolate syrup, a few raspberries and a few squirts of Redi-Whip fat free whoop cream, and you got yerself something to moan over (i know, I know--it's been a while, we all know). It also works with the strawberry cream flavored yogurt, although your delight in that combo will depend entirely on your tolerance for fakey strawberry flavor.
I'm also into little apples, fluffy omelettes made with three egg whites and a whole egg plus a chopped tomato and a slice of fat free american single cheese (although I've never before encountered a "cheese" that is bright orange and coats my teeth; delicious nonetheless, especially with fresh parsley mixed into the eggs to make une omelette fromage aux fines herbs--I find if I indentify something in French, it lends immediate elegance--something that is all too lacking in the orange goo that sticks to my teeth). What else? Luna bars, especially nuts over chocolate and chocolate pecan pie flavors and chocolate brownie clif bars; amy's organic soups and dinners; my lemony crab soup I told you about and skinny cow (that's what we'll become by our new year's holiday abroad) fudge bars. And I've done the unthinkable and purchased fat free bologna. Which I like. Nicely garlic-y and pairs nicely with the garlic and herb laughing cow cheese wedges on fiberific crackers of one sort or another for lunch. And fat-free, skim, decaf lattes with cinnamon and splenda.
I can't believe I'm putting all this in print.
I know one day I'll say to myself why all the fake food? This can't possibly be nourishing. But until then, I'll enjoy the strange adventure.
I've also been calculating my calories, and except for weekends when I go hog wild, I'm taking in around 1300-1700 calories a day, which should result in a 1-2 pound loss per week. Which, I've decided, is fast enough, cuz just think: there are 36 weeks left in the year. How fit and flabuless (and less flatulent) will we be toasting 2006 beneath L'tour Eiffel (or beneath a couple of spicy Spaniards!)?
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Righ', So it worked.
Today I had an egg scrambled with an ounce of nova. I dropped half on the floor. I also had an order of malai kofta, with basmati rice, and a peshawari naan. Um, I think that's all, but I am planning to have some buttered popcorn later, because I'm an eejit. Oh, and a grande skim iced mocha from starchucks. whoops. I walked for about 30 minutes and will shortly drag my arse to the gym. I think. But since this is the first time I've been able to get this dang blog working, I reserve the right to take this whole post down and begin again tomorrow with something more entertaining. Teehee!
Too much of a good thing
Eh, I'm only posting this to see if I can get this fooker to work. If I cannae, I migh' ha' tae' kick some blewdy blog arse, ye bastards!
Monday, April 25, 2005
daydeday1
Heeheedawgie. Looks like this is the devirginating of a blogger. So, thanks for setting up this pup.
So far today I have done no exercise and have eaten an egg-white omelette with tomatoes. parsley and fat free cheese plus a banana with peanut butter and a cup of tea. Wait, this is making me hungry. I think I should wait until the end of the day to do this. . . .
So far today I have done no exercise and have eaten an egg-white omelette with tomatoes. parsley and fat free cheese plus a banana with peanut butter and a cup of tea. Wait, this is making me hungry. I think I should wait until the end of the day to do this. . . .
