Friends

I’d like to know what my problem is.  The only thing I want to do is sit in my sunny bedroom in my underwear and let my eyes dart around to every corner of the room.  I am sucked dry of any type of motivation.  What is my problem?  The only person I want hang around with is my fiancé and it’s not because we can’t get enough of each other.  It’s because he’s the only person I can depend on.  I believe, and I could be wrong, but I believe I am the type of friend who is of the above and  beyond sort.  And I don’t believe my best friends are that way with me.  Maybe I have the wrong expectations of friends.

Oh God and my job!  That’s another sob story.  I can’t do my job for another 5 years.

Dear Lord what am I missing?  Is it me?  Maybe I really do refuse to be happy.  Maybe it’s just PMS. 

Haa Haa Hee Hee HAA HAA!!

I’m ENGAGED!  Let me shout it amongst the roof tops and the general areas in cyber world.  

Do you know how I know I’m truly, truly happy?  I know it when I can feel that mental check of, “You do realize your happy don’t you?  That means the only place to go is down.”  I attribute that to the fleeting moments of happiness my own disappointing family would provide (holy shit, do I have issues).  It’s true.  My family made me 30% happy.  It was mostly my dad’s fault, but after my divorce, I realize that my mom had hand in disappointing me as well.  The first man I married followed similar suit.  Okay Okay, it’s not to say I was some type of angel and that everyone should do my bidding.  But why go into some diatribe of how everyone came up short, to the point where I stopped expecting anything from anyone on a day that is supposed to be happy?

There is one gift I’ve received in my life and that’s knowing that it is possible to TRULY be in love and marry someone you can call your best friend, your lover, your life.  Yes, I’ll be corny.  But something has to be said for this man.  I’ve found that while I was married before and during my separation, so many of the females I know, my mother, one of my married friends, my acquaintances on Facebook, were convincing themselves that they were happy.  Did my mother ever urge me to stay in an unhappy marriage!  Seek more counseling, mine for joys in our life.  When I fell in love with my fiance, it was over.  The only thing I worried about was whether a lifetime was enough time together.  I still worry.  This was what being in love was about.  He’s life.

Identity Crisis Crud

It’s been a while but finally I got a jolt of inspiration, not ironically, when I was doing something mundane.  The inspiration usually happens when I have absolutely nothing to do but think, become paranoid, and feel desperate.  Lately, the desperation has been about something rather grown up, work.  I hate my work.  I’m not a fan of most of the people there.  And it wasn’t always like this.  I used to be impressed by my job.  Now I’m just bored.  So bored that while at work I decided one afternoon that when I got home I would cut my own bangs, and I found myself practicing in a mirror at my desk, using my fingers as pretend scissors.  The result was bad.  My mother even asked me why do I spend so much money on my hair if I’m just going to mess it up.

But if I don’t work where I work, then what else do I do?  What am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to be?  I once said in one of my blog posts that I don’t have strong convictions, but I did love me some paleo.  That remains true, at least.  I can’t parlay that into a job, mostly because, well I don’t know.  I don’t love it enough for it to be my life.  So then what do I love enough to make my life?  I can’t be one of these people who just go to a job day and day out, just to bring home a paycheck.  That would be my parents (Sorry, Dad.  I appreciate your sacrifice.)  

I went to CrossFit today.  I realized, in addition to worrying about where my job path should take me, I worried about what kind of person people saw me as.  I have always been stand-offish.  Sure, I can schmooze like the rest of ‘em, but I can be real wallflower at times.  And I think that people believe I am bitchy, rather than shy.  So, who am I really?  Why can’t I make up my mind about who I really am without taking into consideration who others think I am?  

Setbacks and Dreamscapes

I am having a severe set back on my Sugar Detox. I had been doing swimmingly until this Saturday when I had beer soaked ribs, a delicious paleo desert, and two margaritas.  This was Saturday.  I’m up three pounds since then.  And then I find myself being the girl I hate.  The weight obsessed girl, panicking over every pound gained.  

Here’s the thing I most love about myself.  I don’t take anything that seriously.  Not my job, my weight, my divorce, my financials.  There is always an element in humor in everything.  

Why don’t we go through each and see how hilarious it all really is:

1) I hate my job.  Actually, that’s not very funny at all.  Moving on.

2) My weight.  This whole blog is about my weight and how much it sucks to have to lose it.  Sometimes it’s downright depressing…. Not feeling that funny.

3) My divorce.  What in God’s name is funny about breaking someone’s heart, then giving all your money and possessions you ever had to your ex in order to soften the blow?  Fucking Elizabeth Gilbert did the same thing but at least she was an accomplished author who got a big advance to travel the world and find herself (more like escape herself).

4) My financials.  Speaking of traveling the world to escape, last year I think I spent over $4000 to go to Europe during the hardest time of my separation.  I thought it would be cathartic.  In actuality, I was shell-shocked, culture-shocked, and terribly uncomfortable the entire time.  I went with one of my best friends.  I hardly felt like speaking.  Luckily she’s fairly inward as well so we shared many a wordless meal together.  When I came back, I went to the Gap and saw there was a 40% of sale.  I sent a text to my now boyfriend which said, “I’m at the Tysons Corner Gap.  There’s a 40% off sale.  God Bless America.”  Nonetheless, I wracked up a lot of credit debt because of this terrific idea I had.  I charged a lot of money for things that I wanted to make me feel better about my divorce.  I’m still paying for them a year later.  Once again, not every funny.

So maybe there is another side to me, the one who doesn’t see the funny side of things.  This side is the one who gets stressed out, the one who gives herself a mental pep talk to pull herself out of this funk.  I guess that’s the other part of myself that I like.  It’s something I always loved about my own mother.  We are resilient as hell.  This stuff, the weight, the money, the job, the divorce.  It will all get better in time.  I don’t need prozac to regulate my mood or alcohol to forget about my problems.  My problems, in the grand scheme of problems are so insignificant.  I love the fact that I have a job.  I love the fact that I still have enough money to pay down my debt and buy myself food to make me chubby.  I love that I am still healthy to keep trying to lose the weight.  I love the fact that I got a divorce, no matter all hell I went through during it.  

5 Pounds Down.  This took about 2 weeks of work…

5 Pounds Down.  This took about 2 weeks of work…

5 Pounds Down

I’ve done an entire week of the Level 3 21 Day Sugar Detox. Give or take a few drinks. I had a very stressful time of it this week and the only cure for that is a bold, dry, vanilla-y, glass of red. Oh, and I was forced into going to a dance club this Saturday and the only way to get through that is via Vodka. (By the way, I absolutely abhor dance clubs in DC. They try to be very pretentious but yet they are full of very self-conscious twenty something’s, trying super hard to look ultra cool. Then they overdo it completely on the alcohol and this stuffy club might as well be a frat party.) My point is, I bend a little so I can drink a few times out of the week. I am also leery of people who don’t drink. There’s always a story there and its probably depressing. NONETHELESS I’ve lost 5 pounds so far. I’m at 151.2. Just a few ticks away from the 150.X range. I haven’t seen that number in about a year.

In Santorini… We were forced to walk up a dormant volcano when in fact I thought we were supposed to swim in a hot spring.  I look happy but alas, I’m throwing up my arms in frustration.

In Santorini… We were forced to walk up a dormant volcano when in fact I thought we were supposed to swim in a hot spring. I look happy but alas, I’m throwing up my arms in frustration.

Day 3 of Sugar Oppression

Day 3 of the 21-Day Sugar Detox.  Dammit, I better be sexy as hell by the end of this.  

I should really rate the recipes I’ve made so far on this detox:

I’ve made Coconut Flour Muffins.  I really made them with Almond Flour because for the life of me I have not been able to find Coconut flour in the 30 grocery stores I’ve gone looking for it.  This tasted like an egg for the most part.  A greasy egg.

I also made Chicken in Mustard Sauce.  I must say this is one of the better recipes.  I enjoyed it.

The Crustless Quiche once again tasted mostly like egg.  

Broiled Salmon (in this case I used Mahi Mahi) tasted mostly like lemon.

ALL IN ALL, I can’t abide by permanently taking sugar out of all foods for the rest of my life.  Unless of course I magically have a six pack after these 3 weeks.  And even then I would think about it.  Sugar and Alcohol.  I miss you…

All Ideas Have Fled

I had ideas of writings all day.  Now my finger joints have little strength left.  I spent all my hours trying to work out a technical issue with tumblr.

Since this blog is about my chubbsiness, let me stay true to form.  I started the 21-Day Sugar Detox with my friend today.  It being 9 p.m., I’d say today was very successful.  Get back with me on Saturday at 4 p.m. when Virginia wineries have called upon me to slake my thirst with their delicious splendor.  I’ve for some reason adopted some weird Game of Thrones speak.  This is what happens when I write without ideas.  That and without at least a 0.05 alcohol content.  

I promise to upload my 7-Day-Into-My-Sugar Detox pic.  I think I’ve promised pics before but really, what’s the point when you can just look at my status quo April 2013 pic?

Also, I’m trying to make a picture my background on tumblr.   I had a vision of something I wanted to try.  I need a white shift dress, four steaks, and old fashioned string lights.