Friday, December 25, 2009

I now remember how I got fat

As the title says, I now remember how I got fat. Well, aside from the whole "hormonal imbalance" thing.

It's Indiana. But it's not why you think.

Yes, the foods we eat here aren't so healthy. There's a lot of "American" food. We like to deep fry things. It's really disgusting. But they do that in Pittsburgh, too. In fact, a "Pittsburgh Salad" is lettuce, cheese, chicken fingers, and FREAKING FRENCH FRIES slathered in ranch dressing.

I digress.

It's not the food. It's that I am and always have been miserable here. It's because of my parents' house. It's the center of all things despair. They're both incredibly unhappy, and unwilling to face or change any of the things that are easily changed.

So, they've done what Americans have been trained to do: they eat. And I grew up in that environment. My mother and I never got along. We still don't, but it was even more acute as a kid, because I couldn't get away. I had no control over my life, because she micromanaged everything.

Everything except for what I put in my mouth.

My adult life has been relatively happy. But periods of great sadness in my life have led to me gaining weight, because in order to cope, I eat. It's something I can control.

But my life in Pittsburgh, despite this last semester kicking me in the teeth, has been pretty happy. I was able to lose weight. I gained some back when things got truly miserable. But coming back to this house, to what feels like a toxic environment where my parents live separate lives, and where my mother is incapable of acting like a human being, let alone an adult ... well, it's really brought my food issues front and center.

I took a big step today. We went up to see the extended family. I'm not a fan. It's stressful, and it's incredibly sad for a lot of reasons. Added to the rest of the week, it's a prime over-eating environment for me.

So, I ate breakfast before we left the house. I had one plate of food at the family lunch, and it wasn't even full. Everything was a reasonable portion. Now, I'm not saying any of it was good for me, but I didn't gorge myself. I didn't even have dessert.

It was a small thing. But for me, it was a really big step.

I've got a get-together with some old friends tomorrow evening. Then Sunday at 7:30, I'm headed back to Pittsburgh. Where Boyfriend will pick me up from the airport, and I'll give him a big huge hug.

In short, my life will make sense again.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Why my bank sucks, a love story

So, I know that a few of my readers are banking VPs, and I love you dearly.

But I hate my bank.

For the purposes of this post, I won't name them EXPRESSLY, but I'll just say ... they're headquartered in Pittsburgh and in the past few months bought out my lovely bank that I had been doing business with FOR YEARS with absolutely no problems.

And then THIS BANK came along and ruined all that.

Let's chat, shall we?

So, Bank 2 buys Bank 1. And I get NO notices about the change-over, how I should be doing things, when I should expect a debit card in the mail, nada. Months go by. Still nada. The website changes. My account number changes. I'm told to "keep using my card until one comes to me" every time I call.

Then, 12/9 comes around. They cancelled my old card and didn't tell me. I found out while trying to buy a pre-finals bagel. Luckily I have a credit card and debit card issued by Bank #3 where I have also done business FOR YEARS with no problems. I can still pay for things.

So, I call the customer service hotline. AGAIN. The woman on the phone has a nice Southern drawl. She tells me that oh honey they tried to send it to you and your address wasn't right or something and do you live in an apartment? Why, yes, mystery woman, I do. Oh sweetheart they sometimes can't deliver to the apartments on the first try, because the landlords have them chopped up into so many units and not all of them are registered with the post office!

I swear to the gods that the italics aren't ironic. That's how she talked.

Anyway, she was very helpful. She verified my address. She tried to process my card and have it sent to me. Turns out that the computer wouldn't let her, because it takes 3 to 5 calendar days for the address to verify. Uh, excuse me?

But it's not her fault, and I tell her this as I'm asking to speak to her manager. I indicate that I'm less than pleased that they evidently tried to send me a card, then realized my address was somehow unacceptable, then NEVER CONTACTED ME about the problem. I indicate that I know this isn't the manager's fault either, but that there's got to be a better way to do this than allowing me to realize the problem only when my previous card is inactivated.

And so on, and so forth.

So, I called back today, and got a very nice Indian woman, who processed my card order. Let's see if it gets to me.

However, Indian woman refused to order checks for me (I would do it myself, but the website for some reason HATES everything about me and won't let me order them -- I kept getting error messages). She insisted that I could continue using my Bank 1 checks, even though I now had a different account number with Bank 2. I call shenanigans. I don't want to get called in for check fraud. That's a felony, you know.

I'll be going to my local branch and speaking to a representative in person tomorrow.

Or, I'll be closing out my account and taking my business down the street. It just kind of depends on how things go.

Monday, December 7, 2009

This is just to say ...

... that it is finals time here. And it's been a hell of a month at work. And well, a lot of random shiz has come up.

I'm sorry I'm not around these parts and your blogs more. But I am done with finals on the 16th, and will only have work and family obligations after that until January.

I promise I haven't forgotten about any of ya, and that I'll be back ASAP.

But for now, I've got to get a little sleep before my morning final.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

On Pain. But I'm not dying.

Hello, little circle of readers.

I'd like to say that I feel great, and that I'm back to normal. I'd like to say that for the past 5 days I've been running around like normal, and with even more energy than normal.

But I'd be lying to you.

Instead, I've been lying on the couch. I've been propped up on pillows and popping Rx strength ibuprofen. I've been applying ice packs. I've been wearing long sleeves and hiding my hands to keep others from being grossed out by the blown veins in my arms from where they tried to give me an IV. I've been hating sitting upright and moving at school and work. I've stopped carrying some of my books to school. In short, I've been a sad sack of whine and pain.

I've done what I'm supposed to. I called my PCP and told the receptionist about the issue. I told her about the ER visit and the fact that they wanted me to follow up. The soonest they could see me was December 7th. After some cajoling, the receptionist connected me to the medical assistant, who evidently knows about the super secret appointment times that aren't filled. I left her a message. This was Monday at 9am, and she still hasn't called me back.

I went to the student clinic, where a very nice nurse complimented my outfit. Evidently they see a lot of undergrads without jobs. And then the doctor came in and listened to my heart and lungs. And then he started pressing on my ribs. Hard. Repeatedly. "Does this hurt? Does it hurt now, when I press harder?" Hint: when I cry, yes, it hurts.

So, I'm not dying. I don't have a blood clot or a heart or lung problem. I just have chest wall inflammation. Which hurts. All the time. And which is exhausting, because being in pain is exhausting.

I've been told not to work out for at least a week, and not limit my lifting. To "take it easy." I suppose there will be more couch time for me in the near future.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

When good weeks go bad

Let me explain. No, no. Iz too much. Let me sum up.

It's been a shitty week.

Boyfriend has bronchitis. He has two inhalers.

I've been swamped with work and school, and I'm having my lovely monthly time that makes me wish I no longer had a uterus.

On Wednesday, I saw a woman get hit by a car leaving work. And, I was insulted by another witness for sticking around to give a statement, because she saw that I work for a personal injury attorney. Shortly after I gave my statement and the cops left, a guy at the bus stop asked for my panties. Then kept edging closer, and tried to touch me. I may or may not have told him I'd have no problem killing him. I may or may not have meant it at that point.

And I'm sick, too. I've been running a low-grade fever, and have the sniffles. And headaches.

So, because we've been kind of woe-is-me, Boyfriend and I decided to go out for dinner and a movie. We ate sushi, then decided to go see Paranormal Activity.

And both were good. Except ...

Except that toward the end of the movie, my chest started to hurt. I thought it was just because I was scared, but then it didn't go away. Then I felt light-headed.

So we went to the ER.

Evidently the magic words to be seen quickly are "Uh, hi. I'm having some chest pain and I feel nauseated." They don't even ask for your insurance card. They plop you in a wheelchair and start ripping your clothes off before you even get back to the curtained area. And they don't let your boyfriend go back with you.

But the nurse was a nice guy named Andrew. And the EKG wasn't so scary. Nor was the heart monitor. Or the chest X-ray.

But trying to get an IV in my arm? JESUS. Turns out I'm a hard stick. Especially when I've had caffeine. Don't ask me how much I'd had by 11pm when we showed up at the ER. It's embarrassing. Anyway. Three different nurses tried. One (my dear Andrew) was able to draw the necessary blood to get the tests for blood clots done. Then the sticking really started. My favorite is when one of the shift nurses tried to start one in my hand, and totally blew a vein. I bled all over the floor, and my hand is still swollen three hours later, after ice.

After all that -- no clue why it hurts. I have a prescription for the super-extra-strength Motrin. They think it's probably inflammation between my ribs, but I'm supposed to follow up with my PCP ASAP.

So. How was YOUR week?

Friday, October 30, 2009

Being a lawyer? It's hard.

So, dear friends.

This is the week that I've stopped doing just depo summaries and moved onto things that actually, you know, MATTER. I'm doing a memo for Tuesday, and I had a client meeting today.

It's hard.

I'm wondering if it gets any easier.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Turning it aroud

Remember the days when I ate well? Those days have been long gone for a while now.

I can't do a whole lot about my exercise routine at the moment, with school and work. I can make it days I don't go in. And the weekends. And I should and I will. But I won't get back to my former workout glory.

And that's OK.

I'm cutting out white flour again -- it's crept back into my diet, and it's evil stuff.

I'm also cutting out Diet Coke. It PAINS me to do this, but I drink WAY. TOO. MUCH. I can still have a cup of coffee or so a day -- I don't over-indulge in coffee. Diet Coke will have to go by the wayside for a while.

And? I will eat less bread and more veggies. Bread does evil things to my body -- it makes it crave even more bread. Some is healthy, but I've not been the best in that regard.

I'm not going to make hard and fast "rules" because ... it just makes me feel limited and deprived. And I can't think of it that way. I'm going to eat more veggies. More fruits. More lean protein.

I don't like falling off the wagon. But I hate feeling fat even more.

People are bastard coated bastards with bastard filling

I've been very disappointed in some people I know lately. They've been hurtful and superior. They've hurt others just for the hell of it, and hurt others to just keep them down.

So, to reverse this trend I ask you, Dear Readers: Pop over to see Katie at Overflowing Brain. She could use a word of encouragement and to know that the internet has got her back. You're all so great to me -- let's pass that along.

Monday, October 19, 2009


Dearest Readers, I have been agonizing about Halloween for weeks. WEEKS, I tell you!

You see, Boyfriend and I wanted to dress up together. All couple-like. But so many couple's costumes are lame. Overdone. Expensive. Unfunny.

You get the picture.

Anyway, a friend suggested Paulie Bleeker and Juno. And as I was looking for the T-shirts they wear most in the movie ... I saw our true Halloween calling.

It was a Captain Hammer T-shirt.

But, lest you think I am going as Penny, Dear Readers, think again! Because Boyfriend and I like to buck tradition! Instead, I will be going as Dr. Horrible to Boyfriend's Captain Hammer.

Our things are ordered. All should get here before Halloween. It will be awesome-sauce. Boyfriend has already said he is never taking his hammer T off once it comes because, "It may be the most awesome thing I own."

We are nerds. But we have Halloween costumes.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009


I've been on autopilot the last few weeks. It's been point A to point B. Get through the day. I want nothing more than to get to bedtime every night, and yet when it comes, I can't sleep.

I've always been an insomniac, and law school has only intensified this tendency. Despite my life being pretty damn good at the moment, I'm always kind of vaguely annoyed or unhappy. Maybe it's just law school malaise. Maybe it's more. I don't really have time to sit down and decide one way or another at this juncture.

Either way, I'm really busy. I'm in class in the morning, work in the afternoon, and then I've got to do the reading and assignments for school. Somewhere in there I need to start making time for the gym. But I'm giving myself pass on that for a while, until I figure out which way is up with the new schedule. I've been maintaining with really no effort. That in itself is probably victory enough until life starts to make some sense.

I just need to snap out of it. I've been sick for what feels like forever. I've got more work than I anticipated. And I miss quality time with Boyfriend, but by the time things are done at night, I just want to sleep. Or stare off into space and think about sleeping, or about how epic Christmas break will be.

But, for now, it will have to do that I just watched a Youtube video of a cat climbing a ladder. And that I will watch episodes of Doogie Howser, M.D. on Hulu until I fall asleep. You know you're jealous.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

I'm a paid law clerk. Weird. And is it normal to be scared of the partners?


After this post, I'm not going to blog about work. Or if I do, it will be to say, "Oh, man, work is cool! I love my bosses!" and similars. Trust me, there's enough going on in the life and weight loss of Five without the craziness that is the Job.

But. I did want to say this.

Law firms are cool.

I say this after working for a totally awesome judge in a totally awesome city in a totally awesome state. My summer experience was great and I wouldn't change it for anything. But that said ...

I have an office. Yes, I share it, but I have a big L shaped desk that is mine. I have an email address. There are assistants. I'll have an extension. My computer was made after 2000. I'm not working in an "office" that is really the library, where everyone is barging in all the time and disrupting my mojo by pulling books. Where everyone can read over my shoulder. Where anyone walking to get coffee can see if I got up to go to the bathroom. Where my "desk" was just big enough for my computer. Barely. I don't have to put books on my lap to work anymore. There's tons of room everything I could ever need at work.

And, at the end of it all, there's a paycheck.

So, thus far, the transition to firm life has been good. I survived the first day and didn't die. I wasn't fired. And I was only moderately terrified when I met a partner.

I think that's probably a pretty good first day.

Monday, October 5, 2009

I got my hairs painted!

My hairs have been painted. In highlight form. By a professional. For the first time in ... years.

You see, Readers, I am what you might call ... frugal. Yes, we'll go with frugal. I am frugal when it comes to the hairs on my head. In college I did all-over box dye to bring my chestnut hair to truly red. I did it myself, and had many an interesting result. But I was adventurous! I had only one bad experience, which necessitated a trip to the salon for my first and (until today) only professional color experience. I went BRIGHT red that day. It was hot.

Since graduating over a year ago, I have not put dye in my hair. I don't know if it was laziness that started it, but after a while I realized I liked my natural color. So it stayed. And I still like my natural color. But I wanted some ... ooomph. Some vavava voom! So I made an appointment with a salon that my friends swear by and got a cut and color.

And my hairs are pretty. See?

That's pretty much all I've got. Save to say that I'm up to my eyeballs in law school. Kill me now.

Friday, October 2, 2009

New Toy!

Today was a monumental day for our household.

You see, gentle readers, for the past year and change that I have been dating Boyfriend, he has not had a cell phone. Well, that's unfair. He had a prepaid cell phone that he never turned on. It was always out of minutes. He gave out my phone number to people because mine was always on, and his never was.

It pissed me off.

So, today, we got a family plan. And Boyfriend got a big boy cell phone. And I got a matching one, b/c it's cute and pretty. We got these Motorola Karma phones:

Image courtesy of

They're cute. They've got a lot of bells and whistles for a messaging phone. We're very happy with the twins. Save that the Internet won't work on Boyfriend's. We're going to have to go back to the AT&T store tomorrow to figure that out.

Now, yes, in a perfect world we would have gotten iPhones. Or Blackberries. But ... we're law students. The data packages for those are more per month. We pay half as much for unlimited data as we would for iPhones, and they really do everything we need them to do. I'm sure we'd love iPhones if we got them. But we just really can't justify the extra cost right now.

But we're a family. Our cell phone company says so. And we have cute square phones. Phones that are still full of endless possibilities and features that I haven't quite mastered. Phones that are well-reviewed on CNet.

So, it's a good day. I'll be up learning how to get the most out of my new toy.

While I'm preoccupied, I leave you with this video. You MUST watch it all the way through. The end makes me laugh so hard I can't breathe.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The ugly cry

Why, good morning. It's only 9:20am or so, and I already know that the gods hate me. How? The comedy of errors that was my morning, that's how.

So, I've not been sleeping well, for probably a lot of reasons. Normally it's not a huge problem, but I've also been feeling a little under the weather. And still can't sleep. So, yesterday when I hit that afternoon time when I really wanted to nap, I did not. In order to sleep well that night.

Fast forward. It's 1am. I've finished a hot toddy. I've done a lot of reading. I should be tired. I'm WIDE AWAKE. I finally drift off to sleep around 2:30am.

And this morning the alarm didn't go off.

It didn't exactly put us too far behind -- John has a good internal clock. But, having not slept well, I was counting on hearing the alarm and him getting up to take the first shower in order to wake up slowly.

Didn't happen.

I burned myself on my flat iron.

And then ... the kicker. We were walking down our driveway, which was damp from the rain. I was being careful, and then BAM! Down I went. Ankle twisted. Scrapes. A little blood. And the ugly cry. Oh, the ugly cry. In the middle of the damn driveway, facing one of the busiest streets in the area.

Boyfriend just kind of let me bawl like a little kid, then picked me up and took me in and cleaned me up. And then we drove to school, b/c the gods were clearly anti-bus. And I had a noticeable limp, making the bus standing painful.

All because some woman in our building dropped and left her barrette on our driveway.

... is it the weekend yet?

Why, hello. Yes, I *DO* blog, thank you!

So, hello. Evidently one post per week is my new style.

I'd like to say that first: I am no longer the emotional basket case I was a week ago. I have mellowed (mostly). At the time, I had just finished a phone convo with Papa Five in which he discussed the fact that his company is cutting 5,000 jobs over the next two years. He thinks he's safe, but there's no real way to know at this point. It was ... well, he wasn't upset, but by the time I hung up, the camel's back had broken, so to speak.

So, yes.

In other news: Law school sucks. Legal journal associate editorship sucks. My sources are in A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE. I have to figure out how to cite these (literally) foreign arbitration awards, court cases, and code provisions. It's less than fun.

Oh, and my note topic is due on Thursday. I think I'm writing about bankruptcy? I don't know? Someone help me. I need an adult.

But in positive news: I got a job. A real, paying-me-to-do-legal-work job. It's with a firm that does personal injury. No, I won't tell you the name. Anyway, I feel even more a kinship to Namby Pamby than I once did.

In "eh" news ... the scale hasn't moved. But it's not the scale's fault. I've been baaaaaad lately. I've let the gym slide and eaten more calories than I should of things that shouldn't even go in my mouth to begin with.

But, I think I'm on the upswing. I'm tired of empty calories and feeling like crap after I eat. And that's really the big thing, isn't it? We change our behavior when we notice that it's causing us more pain than it's giving us? At least in theory?

So, there's your schizophrenic update. I'll try to get at least one more at ya this week. There are things going on, as always. Funny things, even. But at the moment, I'm just pretty busy. And a little under the weather. So, my hot toddy and I? We're going to bed.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Why I haven't been blogging

It's been a hard few weeks.

I went back on the pill. My hormones are all screwed up, and consequently my emotions are as well.

I'm hungry all the time, and I'm retaining water. The scale is moving the wrong direction.

And I can't sleep at night.

Life needs to cut me a fucking break.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The one about love

The things we do for love.

Since I haven't been to bed, it's still Wednesday. And today, being Wednesday, is Boyfriend's birthday.

And I spent most of it with a splitting headache. I was less than pleasant for a lot of it, I'm sure. Part of it is just that I get headaches and migraines. Part of it is that I haven't slept well recently.

So what is Boyfriend doing right now? He's sleeping in the spare room downstairs, b/c he snores, and he wants me to sleep well.

I may joke a lot IRL about him, but let me tell you: the man is a saint. He puts up with me in all my moods (and I have them. In. Spades.). He finds all my neuroses cute and funny and endearing. He is patient to a fault with me. He cooks. He cleans. He looks damn good.

And he's supported me in everything I've done this past year. He's been my best friend and the best part of an otherwise grueling year.

And today he's 33.

Tomorrow we're driving back to West Virginia to visit his dad and some law firms. And while it may not be where I thought I'd ever want to be even a year ago, he's worth the move.

I figure it's the least I can do for him, when he pretty much makes my day just by waking up.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Today sucked

The title says it all.

Today sucked. School, friends, workout, family.

It sucked.

I had ice cream.

I can't sleep.

I wish I could talk about it more. But I can't.

Suffice it to say that this week is kicking my ass something fierce.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

More existential than normal. I blame my literature major in college.

Sometimes I am so surprised and fascinated at how delicate we are, when you think about what we endure on a daily basis. Our bodies take the beating we give them at the gym. They process the healthy and unhealthy food we put into them. Our minds are capable of synthesizing incredible amounts of information. We can compartmentalize our lives into home, work, friends.

And yet life is so fragile, both physically and emotionally.

I see it every day, walking down the streets of my city, on the bus, in my car. We feed ourselves horrible food, and as a city, we are fat. I've written about this before, but for those who may be lurking or new (say hello! I love comments!), I don't hate or pity these people. But I am sad for them, because I know what it's like to feel trapped. I am scared for them, for their shortened life spans. They make me hyper aware of my extra 50lbs. They make me aware of how large my father is, and how much I love him, and want him to be around as long as possible. They make me aware that Boyfriend is nine years older than I am, and that I want HIM around as long as possible, in spite of the fact that we are both young, and embarking on this healthy lifestyle together.

Sometimes I marvel that our bodies can take so much abuse. Other times, I practically weep for us as a nation. What are we doing to our bodies? This is why I run. Why, in spite of having a horrible day, I did not get ice cream, but instead had a few pieces of dark chocolate. Why I attempt to eat sensibly and move more. Why I am determined to drop the weight. Life is short, it is fragile.

But perhaps the hardest part of weight loss for we emotional eaters, and indeed the hardest part of examining our relationship with food, is thinking about our mental well-being, and what our minds are capable of handling.

I suppose it's normal to have existential crises in your mid-20s. But it seems to me that so many of us of all ages are walking around on auto-pilot. We stuff food in our faces that we barely taste. We want bigger, better, faster, more, when it comes to everything, but we don't know why. We're never satisfied. It takes a toll on our bodies, our friendships, our relationships. We want so deeply to be loved, yet we can't make relationships work. I think that it's because, for whatever reason, we just really don't know ourselves, because we think it's easier to just not think about it. But what does this cost us?

We're frustrated. I'm frustrated. It plays out in hurtful and rude comments. It plays out in self-abuse with food. With alcohol. With any number of substances or activities.

We all do it to varying degrees. But I was faced with my demon tonight when, after a friend made a thoughtless comment that shook my confidence, I wanted to quit. I wanted chocolate, I wanted to go to sleep. I shut down.

But instead of the ice cream I wanted, I had healthier dark chocolate, and a moderate amount. I did some problems for a class. And I remembered that even when the world seems like it's out to get me, I come home to someone who loves me, and wants only the best for me.

And that's worth more than the rest.

Monday, September 14, 2009

No cramps!

So, today was day 3 of running.

First, some background. I suck at running. I really really do. I've never been able to breathe properly so that I don't get cramps. Until today!

I ran two miles, and didn't cramp once. Well, I ran and walked two miles. But I ran! Two miles! Without cramping or dying!

I'm hoping to get my 13 minute walk/run mile time down to around 11 or 10:30 by Christmas. But first we start with being able to run a solid 20 or 30 minutes at the 4.7mi/hr pace.

And now, late dinner of soup and half a sandwich. And reading. Oh. Reading.

Friday, September 11, 2009

My first run in ... well, a long time

I'm back!

This evening Boyfriend and I returned from what feels like our 5,000th trip in the past month. This time we were in Philly for about 18 hours, so I could interview with some firms out in Delaware, The Land Where Everything is Headquartered. As I'm interested in corporate law, it was kind of like interviewing for my dream job. Three times. At three different firms. Cross your fingers for me, please!

So. As mentioned before, I've been a bad, bad girl. And now I have Fiona Apple singing in my head. But with the traveling and the school starting, I fell off the wagon for a while. Bu now I am back on. Oh, yes. And my running shoes from Nike came Wednesday. I meant to get up before my interviews this morning and run with them before heading out, but ... well, I am not a morning person, Readers. And I am especially not a morning person the morning after driving 5 hours to Philadelphia and sleeping in a hotel bed. Even the excitement of the Nike+ and new shoes couldn't get me out of bed in time.

So instead, I ran this evening when we got back to Pittsburgh. I was sleepy, but dammit, I wanted to see how this thing works. And, if you look to your left under the My Stats section, you'll see a link to my page that tracks all my runs through the Nike+ software. This particular run was not my best, but it happened at the end of a long day, and frankly, I'm just proud that after 11 hours on the road in the past 36 hours, I got myself to the gym for any workout at all.

So, that's the state of things here. Boyfriend and I are going to work out more and eat less crap. We're excited about trying new recipes, and perhaps even taking pictures of the finished product for you readers. Either way, I'm actually going to start sharing how to make some of the more fun things that we eat.

I hope to catch up on the blogroll this weekend -- I'm very sorry that I've neglected you all. You know how life gets sometimes.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Coming soon

Coming soon, an entry discussing:

*how I hate Fed Ex and their not delivering my shoes today
*how fat and out of shape I am, and how I should have been going to the gym for the last month, but I have not.
*the virtues of eating more fiber, less fat, and more veggies and whole grains. I've been truly bad for the last month. I repent.
*shameless pleas for advice on how to learn to run effectively. I am determined. I have Nike+! I will track my progress!
*the possibility of taking pictures of said recipes once Boyfriend and I (and by that I mean Boyfriend, who does the lion's share of the cooking in our house) make them.

And perhaps more!

But for now, I have a tired boy waiting for me to come to bed.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Size 12 dress

Dear Blogosphere friends:

Today was a monumental day.

Despite having lost not a damn pound, I fit into a size 12 dress today at Nordstrom. I was trying them on as a lark with a friend who's in town from D.C. and needed a formal dress for a job with the D.C. Opera.

So, while she was trying on gowns, I picked up cocktail dresses. And one in particular spoke to me. Think Marilyn Monroe, but in black. But they only had it in a 12, not a 14 like I normally wear. But, in an effort to get over my phobia of clothing, I picked it up.


Now, this is likely because the dress had free hips. I have issues with my hips. They're German and wide and built for birthing many babies that will grow up to drink beer and work the land and eat cheese and sausages.

Anyway, it fit. And the size 14 dresses fit. All of them. And I bought one that was on sale.

But I resisted the expensive size 12, because A) it was too fancy for everyday wear and B) it was EXPENSIVE. And while it looked good, the only reason I wanted it was because it said "12" on the tag.

Now I just need to lose another 10lbs, so I'm ACTUALLY a size 12.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Being a girl sucks

So, as many of you know, I've been poked and prodded a lot recently. In the process, we discovered that I've got a (benign) cyst on my ovary. Just hangin' out. My doctor wasn't concerned as it wasn't bothering me.

Until Tuesday. When the cyst burst.

See, uh, it hurt.

It hurt A LOT.

Like, I have a high pain tolerance. For instance: I broke my ankle in high school gym class playing basketball. I didn't cry. In fact, I finished class, and just went to the nurse at the end. The swelling alerted them to a problem, and I got X-rays. And a nifty cast.

This was 100x worse than that.

My abdomen was on fire. I couldn't move out of the fetal position. I threw up. Twice. Not because I felt nauseated, but because I just couldn't handle the pain. I shook. I twisted. I writhed. I shook.

John wanted to take me to the ER, but I don't have health insurance (yet -- I am working on it). So I took a ton of OTC painkillers, and somehow was able to find a position that as OK enough to let me sleep, half-afraid it might have been my appendix, even though I didn't have a fever.

Luckily, it was not. I woke up feeling MUCH better, though still in pain. I went to class, and took a long afternoon nap.

By Friday I was feeling 100% again. But let me tell you -- ovarian cyst bursts? Terrifying and painful stuff.


Thursday, September 3, 2009

Why Boyfriend Rocks

Well, if I listed all the reasons, we'd be here forever.

Seriously. He rocks.

But most recently, Boyfriend rocks because, after his iPod quit working and his running shoes wore out, he bought new ones. And then, he discovered Nike+.

And now, I'm buying new running shoes. And Boyfriend is purchasing me an iPod nano for my birthday.

It's possibly one of the most thoughtful gifts I've gotten in a long while. I love gadgets, and I love losing weight. In one fell swoop, Boyfriend has chosen a gift that will combine these two loves. And b/c my current iPod works fine, it's not something I'd ever buy for myself. Even though I need new running shoes.

So now I have a shiny new pair of Nike shoes (my first ever! EVER! And on sale!) coming to me via Fed Ex next week. This weekend we'll go to the Apple store, and I'll have an iPod nano.

Then next week, we can track our progress. All because my man rocks, and is supportive of my weight loss goals.

P.S. Unless anyone thinks that I am not equally nice to him, I bought him a grill for his birthday, which is in two weeks. It's his first grill. and from what I can tell, it's reaffirmed his masculinity in ways I had never imagined. Plus, we've eaten lots of yummy grilled foods this week.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Things you should know

1. D.C. is hot. It's really freakin' hot. Like, I was a pool of sweat at 9am walking 5 blocks to my interview hot. I wasn't even wearing my suit jacket.

2. My friend that I met up with is a grand time, and I seriously miss hanging out with her, despite our happiness with our respective lives.

3. There have been two student robberies near my house in the past 10 days. The last one was at 9am. WTF, people? This isn't Detroit.

4. We've started school. And interview/rejection from interview season. I kind of want to die, and it's only been three days.

5. Today (erm, Wednesday) was my birthday. I'm 24.

6. My parents are, despite the issues we had growing up, good people who did their best.

7. I love Boyfriend, and love having him back in town. Even when he snores loudly next to me. Like right now.

8. I have my first actually on-campus interview tomorrow at 1pm. Wish me luck.

9. Friday I'm interviewing for a PI firm. I feel like the Namby Pamby. Only not as swanky. Or hilarious. Seriously. Read him.

10. I don't really have a 10th thing. I just wanted a nice round number to end on.

I promise eventually I'll get back to the semi-regular blogging.

Friday, August 21, 2009

D.C. Redux

Hello dear readers. You'll be glad to know that my cold abated before my interviews. I've got a bit of a scratchy throat still, but I dosed up, rocked the interviews, and spent a (very hot) day sightseeing in the city.

There will be more later, I'm sure. But for now, I am SO TIRED. I've seen a lot for one day in D.C. and had a great (and boozy) dinner at Old Ebbitt Grill.

Oh, and my other-self (I would say other-half, but seriously, we're the SAME PERSON) came up to D.C. to see her cousin, and spent the afternoon with us. Considering she's in Richmond and I'm in Pittsburgh, this was a much needed reunion, and a grand old time.

But now, my buzz is wearing off, and I'm gross from the day. It's time to get to shower and sleep.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Nothing to see here

I'll post about being home in the heartland soon.

But I think I managed to catch a summer cold. That, or I'm more allergic to my mom's cats than I thought, and my post-nasal drip has caused me to develop a sore throat and swollen glands.


Oh, and did I mention I have the first round of job interviews in D.C. on Friday?

Double Awesome.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Home to the land of corn

Wow, Readers. Thanks so much for all the love on the MIL post. I've recovered nicely, and it's in part thanks to your lovely support (and Maggie, you will hear ALL about it on Thursday, do not worry).

It may be quiet around here for the next week or so. Tomorrow morning (er, this morning? past midnight?) Boyfriend and I are headed to the Hoosier state to see my family and friends, and just generally have a little bit of a vacation from life here in the 'burgh before school starts. While I was super glad to leave Indiana when I did, I'm excited to go back. I love Indy ... I just couldn't live there anymore. Make sense to any of you out there?

Anyway, the last two times I've been back have been great, but I've missed one thing: Corn. At Christmas the corn fields were snowed over, and in March there was still no corn towering in the fields along the interstate. But now it is early August, and when I drive home there will be rows and rows of tall corn stalks waiting to greet me. There's something really comforting about that.

Also comforting is the big, sunny sky that awaits me. See, here in the 'burgh, we get a lot of cloudy days because of the rivers. When it's sunny it's gorgeous, but for most of the year it is not sunny. And the hills and buildings block the view of the horizon and the sky, whether it is blue or gray. But Indiana is flat, flat, flat, and the sky is huge. You can see literally for miles as you drive past fields on the interstate. It's very American Pastoral.

When I first moved here, I was homesick for those things. I still am, occasionally, but now the city seems like the most natural way to live. It always has, on some level. But I would be lying if I said that I wasn't excited to see wide open spaces and farms again. From time to time I need to look around me and see nothing for miles but a few farmhouses and lots of corn and soybeans. Sometimes I need to walk down the street in the Circle City. Where people hold open doors and smile and let you into traffic. Where Peyton Manning is a god, and no one wants to hear the damn Steeler theme song.

And that's exactly what I'm gonna do. So, it may be quiet around here. But I promise I'll be back.

Hold down the fort while I'm gone, OK?

Monday, August 10, 2009

Recap of the Weekend

Times Five Cried: 1
Times Boyfriend's Mom called Five fat: 3
Times Boyfriend's Mom called Boyfriend fat: 2
Times Five's housekeeping was impugned: 8
Times Boyfriend's Mom made judgmental or insulting comments: infinity

There are lots of stories. Just ... lots. Stories of Fox News being on in my living room despite her knowing we're of a Democratic persuasion around here. Being lectured about religion. Having Jesus or "she's a good church girl" being dropped into conversation. Losing her at the Cathedral of Learning b/c she can't figure out which door she went into when she went to the bathroom. Being told we're fat. Being told I'm the reason for the apocalypse.

The truth is, it was better than I expected, but just barely. Though, on Sunday we almost packed her up and took her home due to a mean comment she made about me, my eating habits, and a vinaigrette salad dressing. Boyfriend was awesome about handling the situation, and eventually it leveled off enough that she was allowed to stay until Monday morning as planned.

I did do a happy dance when she left this morning. And I DID make myself a screwdriver for brunch.

And she won't be coming back for at least a year.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Pity Party of One

I'm ready for Boyfriend's mom to leave.

There, I said it.

More on that after the trip is over and I've calmed down some. But let's just say ... it's not been Super! Fun! Times!

Mostly though, I hate money. I hate that I don't have it when I need it, and that my student loan won't come in for about 2 weeks. I hate being in debt. I hate borrowing for law school.

I hate hate hate all of it. I hate that I've been the one paying for stuff this summer. I know it's unavoidable, but I. Hate. Money.

I hate bills. Hate. Hate. Hate.

I hate health insurance, and how I'm going from great insurance to nearly nothing.

I hate it.

But 500 Days of Summer was a good movie.

I want to go home to Indiana for a while.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Perfect end to the perfect week ... NOT.

I'll be radio silent for most of this weekend, most likely. You see, after the MAGNIFICENT week here in the 'burgh, Boyfriend's mom is coming for the weekend.

For our first meeting.

She will be staying in our guest room. In my old bed.

And she'll be here in approximately .... any minute now.

... you think it's in poor taste to throw myself off the balcony?

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

I hate this week.

I came home from writing cover letters of doom all day and saw this on the news:

That's 25 minutes from my house.

I watched some of the coverage. Most heartwrenching was the meathead about my age who was working out in the weight room next door. After it was all over, he carried one of the girls outside. She had been shot in the thigh. He cried. From what I could piece together she bled out.

I have lost my faith in humanity.

This city doesn't need more of this. Not long ago, we had to deal with this shooting of three of our police officers:

It was only four months ago.

This week needs to be over. And people need to be human fucking beings and not do this to each other.

I don't believe in Hell. But I hope sincerely that I am wrong, and that tonight's shooter (who committed suicide) is roasting nicely there.

My thoughts are with the victims and their families.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Too Angry to Sleep

Ok. It's 3am. I'm not tired. I'm not even close to being tired. Because I am too angry to be tired.

I was browsing Facebook about 2 hours ago, and noticed that my friend, we'll call him Ben, had posted a link on his wall. I followed, and discovered that it was an article written by a professor at his college. Not only did I discover from this article that my friend had been severely beaten for being gay in the South, but I learned that the professor thought this was A-OK. I would post the article, but 1. I don't want to link to it to give it more traffic and 2. it uses my friend's name, and he deserves more privacy than that.

I immediately sent my friend a message, and ... it was even worse than I thought. He can't remember anything about that night because he was beaten so severely that he lost consciousness and STOPPED BREATHING at the scene. Now, he has to be treated by a neulogist and a neuropsychologist because his multiple concussions in the cerebral and cerebellal regions of his brain have left him with severe problems. Among the most devastating is that my dear sweet friend is having issues making the two hemispheres of his brain communicate.

Because he can't remember anything, the justice system can't help him.

I seriously think I may throw up. "Ben" is seriously one of the sweetest and most unassuming people I know. And while he's very "out," he's aware that he lives in the South and always took precautions, and tried to get along with everyone. For the most part, he didn't have any problems. And now, he has to see two specialists because some redneck thought he was justified in beating the shit out of him. Just because Ben is different than that particular neanderthal.

I'm GLAD he's different. I'm so proud of my friend, for standing up for himself, and for continuing on. For continuing to laugh and love life. For not letting this consume him like it's already consuming me.

And before I get any super conservative trolls on here: Yes. I am liberal. I'm very socially liberal. I don't think being gay is wrong, or a sin, or a choice. I think it's who my friend is. You are more than welcome to disagree with me. You're entitled to your opinion, just like I am mine. And my beef in this post isn't with people who disagree with me that gays should be given the right to marry, or any other political issue. My beef is with people who think it's OK to beat someone else for being different, for any reason. My issue is with anyone who thinks that violence is excusable.

Because, even if you don't agree that being gay isn't a sin or a choice, allowing this kind of violence in our society is terrifying. If someone can beat Ben because he's gay, then what's stopping someone else from targeting another group? Women? Left-handers? The overweight? I fall into all those categories. And the same religious reasons that people use to justify or excuse being gay people was used to justify keeping women, left-handers, and minorities down.

I feel lucky and proud to have been born in this country, where teachers no longer make lefties like me write with our right hands. Where women can go to law school and be outspoken and do great things. Where there is generally room for people on both sides of any debate to co-exist without too much turmoil. But this ... this kind of hate? I'm not proud that my country is capable of that.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

My visit to the promised land

As you may have already read over at my should-have-been sister's blog, I visited the holy grail for the plus-sized woman, Banana Republic. I'd never actually been INSIDE one before because ... well, I didn't fit in the size 14 clothes that are the top of their in-store sizes. Sure, I could have bought from them online ... but it's not the same. Not the same at all.

So yesterday, I went, armed with my 30% off Friends and Family coupon. And I walked out ... with this. And this shirt to go under it, only in a very pale pink.

And I may or may not have teared up a little in the dressing room. Just a little.

What? I'm a girl.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Random Over-Shares

Hello Readers. In my little blurb, I promise you over-shares, and I haven't really been delivering. So, since I'm still not tired at 1:30, I figured I'd give you some, in the form of a list.

1. I cannot watch Boy Meets World anymore. It used to be one of the things I would watch in reruns when it was on. And then this really screwed up guy that I had this on again off again thing with for waaaaaaay too long all through childhood and (here's the problem) college and I ended things for good. I cut him out of my life. Well, a mutual friend gave him my new email address, and in his apology for things not working out and his desire to at least talk to me once in a while, he said that when one of the girls he'd been out with asked him about his exes, he said that he always thought that I was "the Topanga to his Cory." I cried. I had seven years of romantic feelings tied up in that boy, and despite how great he had been in high school, he had turned into a lecherous, drunken mess in college. Anyway, he laid that corny line on me (and the poor girl he was dating). We talk occasionally via IM, since he lives 2,000ish miles away. But I can't watch the show anymore.

2. There's one sound that will always remind me of my mother. It's the sound that crumpled but still crisp bills make when you straighten them or rub them past each other in your wallet. Backstory: when I was a kid, my mom and I didn't get along. We really only get along now (if you can call it that) b/c I live 400 miles from her. It's a really, really long story. But anyway, one of the things we both loved was a good fountain Diet Coke. And pretty much every time we'd have to go shopping for school clothes up until my last prom dress purchase, we would stop by a drive-thru on the way home and get Diet Cokes. My mom doesn't organize her money in her wallet, and instead kind of wads it up in there, so she has to straighten it out to pay for something. It's a pretty distinctive noise. Anyway, today I was buying a Diet Coke at a drive thru after my appointment (yes yes aspertame, it was a stressful day!), and I paid with a crumpled bill. As I straightened it, I instantly thought of all those times with my mom. They're probably some of the best memories I have of her, actually.

3. I've had one marriage proposal, and one near-proposal. Both were semi-traumatic.

4. Relatedly, starting in middle school I had nightmares about getting married. Faceless grooms, running away before the ceremony, after the ceremony, my parents not approving and me getting married in secret, then regretting it immensely. These began before either proposal. I'm not really sure what triggered them, save maybe the understanding that marriage didn't always work out well (read: my parents, who are still unhappily married). Either way, they stopped about halfway through college.

I think that's all for tonight, as I'm starting to get sleepy. Anyone dig the overshares? Or would you rather I just do my normal thing with no random deviations?

Friday, July 31, 2009

Looking at your insides is weeeird

Today, Dear Readers, I was violated by a very cute and perky ultrasound technician. She didn't even buy me dinner first.

The plus side of this situation is that I don't have tons of cysts. I have one, and it's the "normal" kind. So, it comes down to the bloodwork.

And, if I weren't just so tired, I would tell you the story about the guy on the bus who was a litigious jerk. In fact, tomorrow I will. But for now, Comedy Central is calling my name.

My insides

Hello, Readers. My name is [redacted] and I'm an insomniac.

It's 2am here, and yet ... not sleepy. Generally, this is because I can sleep in as late as I want now that it's officially summer vacation, but mostly it's nerves tonight.

Tomorrow I see my insides. My doctor wants an ultrasound of my ovaries. And while I'll also get the blood test done, if there are cysts tomorrow, it means PCOS. Which really kind of sucks. I mean, it's not the end of the world. But it means permanent changes. And that blows.

In hilarious news, when I scheduled the ultrasound I made a huge ass of myself. I called the handy dandy number to the imaging department or whatever they're called, and indicated I need a pelvic ultrasound. The woman on the other end said, "Oh, so you're pregnant?" I shouldn't have been caught off guard -- that's the most common reason a woman would have an ultrasound. But I was a little shocked and it took me a second to respond. And when she asked again, "For pregnancy?" Instead of saying, "No, they think I have PCOS," I instead blurted out, "I'd better NOT be pregnant." What can I say? Five gets worried when she's not on her birth control pills, even when we're safe.

I don't think this woman was amused.

Anyway, at 1:30pm today (because it is past midnight, after all) I will see my ovaries. And I'll have one more clue in the puzzle of WTF is wrong with me.

Finally: is it in poor taste to name at least one of my ovaries "Lumpy" if I have cysts?

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

My grocey list

Thanks for the great comments on my last post. You ladies have given me a lot to think about with regard to how I see my body, and how that effects my progress. I've got lots of thoughts, but they're not ready for the blog yet. Sometime this week, have another post on the subject, I'm sure.

But for today, I'd like to share my awesome grocery trip. See, I'm trying to be better. Not that I'm bad overall, but it's always good to strive for healthier food, right? Here's what I came home with:

* Free range chicken tenderloins (~2lbs)
* Turkey smoked sausage (2 packs)
* Fresh shaved low fat turkey lunch meat (.7lb)
* Salmon fillets (1lb)
* Braeburn/Granny Smith apples
* Grapes
* Tomatoes
* Spring mix
* Low fat cheese slices
* Light and Fit yogurt (the big tub)
* Carrots
* Garlic Hummus
* Eggs
* 2 Amy's black bean burritos
* goat cheese
* pesto
* skim milk

I also have a ton of frozen veggies in my freezer, as well as a lot of Dreamfields in my pantry. I didn't buy bread, but I have a loaf for toast in the morning (the super thin sliced variety so I eat less of it).

Does this compare to what the rest of you are buying? Anything that I'm not buying that you always buy? I'm always up for new foods!

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Interesting thought

So, I'm watching Harry Potter with Boyfriend, and I wonder ...

When do I stop being "fat"? Is it at my goal weight? When I hit a certain size? BMI? Percentage of body fat?

I'm 20+lbs lighter, and feel like I look a lot skinnier around my middle, but I still FEEL just as fat as I did at 214. Mentally, I'm still 214. I'm in awe when old clothes don't fit, or I can wear a size 14.

I think it's because I've been big since puberty (hello? PCOS sign? I think so). I've always identified myself as a "big girl" and I've always been ashamed of it. Starting this blog was hard for that reason. Typing "fat" is hard. There's a lot of baggage that goes along with that honesty.

So, when do I get to say I'm not fat anymore? I know there's no right answer, but what do y'all think?

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Hairs cut

I got my hairs cut today, and I'm really not sure what to think about the new 'do. I'm really picky about my hair when it's short, so I leave it to you -- what do you think, Internet?

Edited to add: I like the length, but felt that the layers were a little poufy, so I broke out the straightening iron ... here are the results:

The verdict? LOVE.

I promise I'm done taking pictures of myself for a while :)

Friday, July 24, 2009

I'm not dying!

Hello, friends.

I'm just back from my meeting with my doctor re: my PCOS test.

Turns out, my results are possibly inconclusive. See, I had been off the pill for less than a month, so while my girly-whormones were a little out of whack, it may not be because my ovaries are staging a coup, but rather because they were all "WTF, were is my birth control, woman!?!"

So, we're running the test again. And we're going to do an ultrasound of my ovaries. Hawt, no?

But, in the meantime, she confirmed that my other bloodwork was normal -- great, even. My fasting blood sugar and insulin were indeed awesome. And my cholestrol was great. So, while I may have a mild case of PCOS, I don't have any of the scary symptoms that are really what's very problematic with the disorder.

Oh, and if I have it? I may be put on Metaformin (a drug generally prescribed for insulin resistance in PCOS patients) for a short while, which, evidently, will balance my hormones (and by that I clearly mean whoremones) and make it easier to lose weight. I don't have insulin resistance, so it's not as though it's something I would have to do, but it would probably make my weight loss easier and faster. And I'm all about that. I wouldn't have to be on it long-term, either. At most a year to drop the weight I want to, and then I'm back to medication-free. The great thing is, there really aren't side-effects (like actual diet drugs) and it's just balancing out my body so that the work I'm doing is more effective, like it is in people with "normal" metabolisms.

So, the news is -- there's really no news. I'm getting the conclusive tests done over the next few weeks. But, I feel better, knowing for sure that if I do have it, it's mild and treatable, and that after I lose weight, I may not even have to "treat" it. So, there you have it.

Oh, and something that was a lot more reassuring? My doctor has it, too. So she was able to give me first-hand experiences with the tests and medications.

Happy weekend, everyone! I'm going out with a group of friends to celebrate the fact that we've survived 1L and our 1L summers, and will be very bad, diet-wise. German resturant (the food of my people!). Beer. Carbs. Cheese.

But I'm doing an extra work out today. And in spite of the ice cream earlier this week, I've been very good, and have done a lot of cardio. Just no yoga until yesterday. Hear me justifying?

Anyway, I hope you're all as happy with your Friday as I am.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

What a difference a week makes

I went to yoga for the first time in a week today.

I wanted to die.

To be fair to my poor body, the fill-in for Catherine was ... hard. She was really hard. But it's amazing what a week away from yoga does to my body. I never got seriously winded (I've been doing my cardio!), but I could feel that I wasn't as flexible or strong, and my already weak shoulders really didn't enjoy downward-dog tonight.

But I did rock the balancing poses.

In other news, I'm discussing my test results with my doctor tomorrow at noon.

Keep your fingers crossed for me, please.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Law Post!

So, we got journal offers today. No Review for me, which is fine.

But I'm on the next-best journal. In fact, my law school classifies it as a review.

It was a long day of being tied to my email, and checking literally every 10 minutes. Without fail. From 9am when I got the first offer until I got the email for the journal I wanted at 6:45pm.

I'm exhausted. I'm ecstatic.

I feel like all my hard work has paid off. And like I have been vindicated, after being on the wait list to begin with.

And so, I gave myself the day off. And I'm eating ice cream. Yes, I will pay for this with harder workouts during the week. But you know what?

I'm fine with that.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Dear Elliptical: I want to marry you.

My weekend workout schedule this summer is hit or miss. Allow me to explain.

Boyfriend is home every other weekend this summer, because his job is 3.5 hours from our lovely shared apartment. So, on weekends he's not here, I do a pretty good job of kicking ass and taking names. Or, I at least make sure to work out twice. Whichever seems most prudent at the time.

But then there are the weekends when he is in town. You see, usually I spend most of my weekend workout time at yoga, to rid myself of the stress of the past week and get set up for a good week to come. But Boyfriend doesn't do yoga (yet -- he has promised to try it in the fall when he has more cash), and the weekend classes are 1.5 hours, so I counting the time it would take me to get to and from the studio, I would lose 2 hours of precious Boyfriend time.

That is completely unacceptable, when I get roughly 96 hours per month with him, and about half of those are spent sleeping.

Enter the campus fitness centers. You see, students here can use them for free with a student ID. So, we can go together and work out.

And today we did. Despite a heavy lunch (I blame Boyfriend for wanting to get Reubens. In my defense, I only ate half!), I think I did a pretty good job. I worked on the elliptical for about 50 minutes and burned 650 calories. I may be ready to graduate to the treadmill soon for part of my cardio workout -- the elliptical no longer makes my heart feel like it's going to pop out of my chest. I'm a little wary, just because I think I jumped in too fast last time. But, I can go an hour on the elliptical without stopping and while keeping my heart rate at a good hard cardio pace. It's probably time to just take the plunge.

But the real reason I want to marry the elliptical is because of what it does for my butt. I felt muscles there that I never even knew I had. I make sure to work my calves too, of course, but about 60% of my time with my favorite machine today was focused on my thighs and my glutes. I so very desperately want my thighs to not rub together when I walk. And I want my butt to be high and tight.

Aside from the elliptical and the chair-sits/lunges we do at yoga for the legs and glutes, anyone have any lower-body sculpting exercises you swear by? I'm all ears.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

LIfe is better today

Boyfriend's in town, and after a late-night "run" and a day of laundry (but otherwise laziness), I'm feeling much better.

The weather is gorgeous, and right outside the master balcony (be jealous), the sun is setting behind the hills of Pittsburgh. I'm lying in bed surfing the internet without the air on, and a nice breeze is rolling through the loft.

It's been a good day.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Why weekends (and booze) are necessary:

It has been one of those days.

You know the ones. They're the kind where you wake up 20 minutes late, and realize you have nothing clean that's appropriate for work. You don't have time to pack a healthy lunch. You forget an umbrella, and halfway to work it starts pouring.


But I think what really got me today was my meeting with the career counselor. You see, dear readers, Five wants to get one of those job things next summer after her second year of law school. She wants one that pays cash money. So, she made an appointment with the highly ineffective career services office at her law school.

Enough of the third person stuff.

Anyway, this woman, while meaning well, was completely ineffective. She tried to tell me that I should not consider Boyfriend in my search, because it was unlikely that it would "work out." And she attempted to tell me that while my GPA is in the range for on campus interviews, I am unlikely to find a paid job this summer. Even though I'm well within the top 20% of the class, and am probably closer to the top 15%. Everything I have heard from others has been contrary to this information. But she seemed to think that I was somehow destined to fail. Very encouraging. From the same office that told us that "oh, there won't be any jobs out there for 1Ls this summer." And lo and behold, we're all employed.

Needless to say, I was pissed. I waited 20 minutes for her to actually show up to the meeting, and when she finally did arrive she spent the entire time telling me to "not expect too much." Evidently a paycheck is "too much." To add insult to rudeness and injury, she dared to criticize my priorities, questioning my dedication to school and being a lawyer since I'm considering someone else's needs when making my employment decisions.

I won't be going back to that particular counselor anytime soon.

Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to go for a run with Boyfriend. Since he's in town this weekend, I have a running buddy for nighttime runs again.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


My body has betrayed me.

You see, I had to go of the birth control pill for this PCOS test, to see if my body was producing adequate female hormones. I haven't had a "real" period in about 3 years, when I went on the BCP. So, this week has been ... fun.

I went on the pill for good at 21 not specifically because I was getting it on the regular (if memory serves, I wasn't when I made the decision). Rather, I had really heavy periods, and was experiencing a little extra hair shedding, and my dermatologist thought it would help.

I didn't know about PCOS back then. I just did what my doctor told me. Stupid, stupid 21 year old girl.

What I'm trying to say is, I miss my pills. And my ovaries are treacherous little bitches. Not only to they probably not do their job by ovulating, but they also make my life a living hell once a month.

I've been mega-crampy. I've been irritable. I've had issues getting to sleep, then getting out of bed in the morning. I haven't had any of those problems (at least as they relate to my period) since I was a teenager. And honestly, it's been so long ago now that I don't remember if I had them this severely as a teenager, or if I was just stupid and dramatic like most 16 year olds are.

The side effect of this lovely occurrance is an increase in my carbs. I crave them in a way I can't explain. Luckily, I still eat all my normal healthy foods, but have added a little no-sugar-added ice cream to the mix. Tonight I had a piece of sugar-free apple pie. I may have done the same thing yesterday. And on Sunday.

Pretty much, I feel like there's a raging hormonal beast inside me, wanting to burst out. I've been weepy, then turned right around and been a rage-a-holic. I'm normally not clingy or overly emotional, but this week I have been a basket case.

And as much as I would love to have Boyfriend around for rubbing my very sore back and letting me cuddle him at night, I'm glad he doesn't have to see me like this. Because I'm pretty much a huge bitch. And a clingy psycho girl. And a crier. Three for the price of one this week.

So, please shoot me. And move my doctor's appointment up so I can get back on my magic pills. Because my lady parts? They hate me.

The feeling is mutual. Trust me.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Before and now photos ... progress!

So, I figured I'd give you guys (and myself) some side-by side photos to compare. The new ones are again taken with my Macbook, b/c Boyfriend isn't around to help me take pics of myself.

Spring '08 and Summer '07


Same Jeans, Same Brown Pants:

Sunday, July 12, 2009

We'll see how long these last ...

My new Mac clearly as an iSight camera. So, I took some really gross post-yoga pics. I took some "normal" ones, but I'll only include the ones that have an "effect" b/c it kind of disguises what I look like.

Plus, a few "normal" pics of my torso.

See? You almost can't see how sweaty and gross I am.

I'm pretty much a huge cheeseball.

And this last one is pretty much how I look while I'm reading your blogs.

And now, my torso, in all its chubby glory, again taken with my iSight camera:

So, there you have it. That's where I am ~23 or so pounds down.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

I always hated test days


I've been seeing a new doctor. She's pretty nifty. I needed a new doctor because, with the move to the new city, and my turning the ripe old age of 24, I am soon to be kicked from my parents' insurance. And, you know, it's good to have a doctor in town, and not rely solely upon the student health center.

Part of the barrage of tests she ran about two weeks ago was a test for PCOS (and random more, you know, normal things, like thyroid, cholesterol, etc). I knew PCOS was a possibility, but the thought of it freaks. me. the. hell. out. There are a lot of complications that are possible -- an increased risk of heart disease. Diabetes. Infertility (dont' care about that one, as I don't want babies). Uterine cancer.

So, when I got a call on Monday to "come in and discuss my results" and then they scheduled my appointment for THREE WEEKS from the time of their call ... well, I freaked. Because SOMETHING is up, or they would call me and say, "You're good. Go about your life."

So, I fixated. I called back and left a message asking for my test results. No call back. I called again the next day. No call back. I finally called this morning and indicated that the results of my test could be, you know, IMPORTANT and I didn't want to wait three weeks to figure out if I was, you know, diabetic, or if I had scarily high cholesterol b/c my ovaries hate me. And that, if you could please take about 5 minutes, call me back like your pre-recorded message says you will.

A very nice nurse got back to me this afternoon.

I am not diabetic -- in fact, my blood sugar was at the low end of the range (74 after a fast) which, from waht I can tell from the internet, is DAMN SKIPPY. My thyroid is in the normal range. My cholesterol is good. It's still possible I have PCOS (really, quite probable -- the nurse talked about how there were "hormonal red flags" that she felt the doctor was more prepared to discuss with me). But at least I don't have any of the major complications a lot of women have. I may not be ovulating, and we may need to regulate my estrogen. But that's something I can handle. And I am no longer freaking out about every piece of food I put in my body, thinking I will go into a diabetic coma.

Yes, I know I am paranoid.

But that doesn't change how very real the fear felt.

So. On July 24th I will know.

And, I will tell all three of you who read this.

Until then, I will take comfort in knowing that weight loss and the low GI diet are actually great things for the PCOS, should I have it.

And Mar -- if you get tested, please don't freak out like I did. :) You're probably just fine.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Too good to be true

Hello, friends.

So, the 180s were a bit premature, as I had anticipated. I weighed in around 193 plus or minus a pound and a half before the cold of death, and after weighed in at 189.0. After a week of eating normally again, I stepped on the scale this morning to the tune of 190.5.

I'll take it.

In other news, Happy 4th to you all. To celebrate we (and I use the term loosely) made pan-seared sirloin steaks (appropriately doused in herbs) and zucchini and baby asparagus with garlic and salt. Boyfriend has discovered sugar free Oreos, and has consumed ... well, I won't tell you how many. It's a little worrisome. Needless to say, we're enjoying the weekend. The weather is nice, we can see (most of) the floor in the new apartment finally, and Boyfriend is a superior cook.

And, because Boyfriend gave me the "why don't you LOVE ME?!?!" look when he realized I had not purchased Diet Coke (what? I have been trying to limit my caffeine and aspartame intake, and kick my addiction to the stuff!), we went to the grocery today. I highly recommend purchasing soda on the 4th of July. We got 5 fridge packs of our favorite Coca-Cola products for $12. Which, since Boyfriend isn't really living here this summer, will sit in the pantry pretty much until he comes home for good in the fall. Well, four of them will. I will probably slowly drink the 5 or so he will leave me of the 12 pack currently in the fridge.

And now, to enjoy a quiet night of movies and laundry, which will doubtless be interrupted by our neighbors setting of highly illegal fireworks in the middle of the city.

I wish I could say I'd be surprised. But, from what I saw after we won the Superbowl and Stanley Cup, nothing surprises me anymore. I just hope my car is safe.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The world is a small, small place.

So, I went to yoga again today. And Sean was back from his hiatus. I'm so glad Sean was back from his hiatus. He's by far my favorite instructor, followed closely by his wife, Karen. They both combine hard workouts with more rest periods than the other teachers. The intensity is higher in Sean/Karen's classes, but I feel more restored walking out of class because they've given me a proportionate amount of rest to go along with it. I guess that's what being the owners of the studio will do for ya. (For the record: I like Sean more b/c he does more strength than Karen, and he's freakin' hilarious.)

Anyway, today was packed. Sean's classes always are. Anyway, it was one of those days where there was about 3 inches between each of the mats throughout the entire studio. The spot next to me was empty until about 5 minutes before class, when a very harried Asian woman about my age rushed into it. You could tell she'd had a bad day. You could tell she needed yoga. We struck up a conversation about how she was a beginner, and then class began.

At the end, we chatted some more. And it came out that she's from my hometown in Indiana (not hard -- I'm from Indianapolis), and we know some of the same people. She taught swing dancing with my college roommate. She's living about a block from me this summer, and is starting med school in the fall. So weird.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

In the 80s

It's officially summer here in my Metropolis. It's sticky. It's humid. It's hot.

It's so hot and humid that they don't turn on the heaters during hot yoga. Hell, the windows are sometimes open. And I'm not even south of the Mason-Dixon.

But, the actual reason behind this post is not the temperatures. No, friends. Today, I stepped on the scale pre-shower on a whim and was flabbergasted by what I saw: 189.0.

Fully clothed I am 191.

It feels good. I know it's that I've been sick, but I hope to maintain it even after I feel completely human again. Suddenly 170, my next milestone, doesn't feel so far away.

My butt is starting to look round (in a good way). I have little biceps growing under my flab. My stomach is flatter. My pouch is much smaller, and under my flab I can feel hard ab muscle.

And it's the yoga. Because I really don't do much else. With the move I fell off the running wagon. I'm going to try to get back on at some point, but the impact just isn't fun when I'm this heavy -- I think for a while my cardio of choice is going to be the elliptical machine.

Oh, and one last thing. For those who have never been to a yoga class, there's generally a set formula. You start with sun salutations. You move into standing poses. Twists. Backbends. Inversions. The yoga instructor calls the poses and kind of sets the pace. But not today. Or at least not for the whole class. Instead, after the first Sun Salutation A, the instructor said, "Do three more at your own pace. When you reach the end, stay in downward dog." It was oddly freeing, and just the right amount of instruction. I knew I had to do them, but there wasn't a timetable.

It was nice for a change of pace. But tomorrow I will go to the ass-kicking Sunday evening class and have Sean make me want to cry. And that will also be awesome.

Friday, June 26, 2009


I am the new owner of a 13 inch aluminum unibody Macbook.

It. Is. Gorgeous.

I have decided to name him the British pronunciation of Aluminum and call him Al for short. (Thanks for the idea, Amanda!)

I love him already. :)

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Kill me now?

So, I've got the sinus infection from hell. I've bee home from work the past two days, parked on the couch with the OJ and water.

Consequently, I have been pretty quiet on here. For that I am sorry.

I promise that when I feel a little better, I'll let you guys know how life is going. But for now, I'm popping Sudafed like it's candy and wishing I were healthy enough to go to yoga.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Mystery and boookshelf woes solved

Ah, the internet. How I have missed you! I've been without this week (long story having to do with Boyfriend not being on the ball when scheduling utilities appointments), and I've dearly missed the blogosphere.

Now for a few updates:

First -- the veins. I found out through the Google machine that they are reticular veins, or "feeder" veins. They'll probably need to be zapped. There goes $750. :( At least now I'm doing yoga and exercising to keep my circulatory system in good health. I'm really pissed as they didn't start giving me trouble until AFTER I started losing weight and exercising. Way to go, Universe. I'll be glad to have the doctor's opinion on Monday. Regardless, I want them to STOP FRAKKIN' HURTING.

In other news: Boyfriend and I have bookshelves.

Thank you to the lovely people at IKEA. I'm still a little upset they didn't have beechwood finish ones to match the bed (which is not from IKEA, but seriously the stains are just the same), but the birch ones go nicely with the desks we just bought.

And, more importantly, we have the internet. And cable. And I thwarted Vista and it let me connect to the wireless router. Seriously, y'all, it was a big fat mess. I finally set it up manually through Vista and it stopped throwing a hissy fit. I cannot wait to get a Mac this fall.

I know I promised you guys pictures of the new place, and I swear they're coming. But for right now, we've just finished getting all the rest of the crap from my apartment into the new apartment. We're still in boxes, and the place is a hot mess. As soon as it is presentable, I'll snap a few shots and let you guys see the awesome that is our new place (or at least, the relative awesome -- we're both students, so we're just glad it doesn't have mice!).

I have many new stories to tell, but for now ... I'm exhausted.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Moving weekend woes

First and foremost, and unrelated to the rest of my post: I've noticed since losing weight that my veins are more prominent. Normally, this would not be a problem, but my blue-ish veins have been pretty visible since, oh, forever now. I have them on my chest and shoulders, and now my legs. UGH. Anyone got any advice? They're not spider veins in the traditional sense (though I have some on my thigh) and they're not vericose. Just blue-green and visible. Anyone? Bueller?

And onto the reason for posting:

I hate moving. I hate it hate it hate it. Boyfriend has a lot of crap, and since we were "only moving upstairs" we didn't really use boxes. BIG MISTAKE, FRIENDS. Use boxes. Do it. Pack in advance. Take a lesson from us.

Right now everything from his apartment is in. I still have a few things over at mine, and landlord from hell can just deal with it. I have until the 25th, and I'm takin' my sweet time. And I'll be taking pictures when I leave so that WHEN he tries to keep my deposit, I have proof.


I've done a lot of lifting. We've done a lot of shopping for new furniture. One such purchase is the beautiful pine table desk I purchased from IKEA yesterday. Gorgeous. Boyfriend has a matching one. Papa Five came out to help us move heavy things like couches and dressers and ended up buying us patio furniture for our big patio (we have a small one off the master that we're not sure what to do with yet). We're planning in getting a small gas grill for South Beach fabulousness.

But then ... bookcases. Boyfriend has ONE and it has been overtaxed. I don't have any, as my books were mostly sitting back in Indiana in my old closet. Now we have his books, my books, and all our combined law books.

And one bookcase.

We tried. We really did. They were out of the color bookshelves we wanted at IKEA. We thought Target would be an OK substitute. It is not. After about 30 minutes of frustration, we're taking the damn bookcase back to Target. And since I've handled all major purchases here thus far, Boyfriend is in charge of bookcases.

I'll post pictures when I don't have boxes freakin' everywhere, and we've found all the extra furniture we're going to need. You'll love my walk-in closet and dual skylights and loft. I promise. But for right now, you'll just have to wait.

(P.S. - despite eating like CRAP this weekend -- I lost a pound. Small victories.)

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Odds and ends

So, on Saturday I realized I didn't get myself anything fun for losing 20lbs. Shame on me!

Consequently, I went to Ulta and got myself some new perfume. Nothing really fancy, just the Clinique Happy Heart. I smelled almost everything in the store, but a lot of them were things I would wear in probably 5 years, not at 23. But I made mental notes for the future, when I need something a little more grown up.

And just a note: for the four people who actually read the blog, I probably won't be updating much for the next week or so. Boyfriend and I are moving! Two bedroom, baby! I've got the keys, and it is Oh. So. Lovely.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Sore! Oh, the sore!

So, I've been a little workout monkey this week. I've been to the gym every day since Wednesday. And today, I did the gym AND yoga. I mean, I didn't die, but daaaaaaaamn am I gonna be sore tomorrow. I can already feel my calf muscles and my triceps talking to me. Correction: my triceps are SCREAMING at me.

But I was in the mood to kick a little ass today -- my own. You see, I have survived my first year of law school. And I now have all my grades. And I have a pretty rockin' GPA -- one that puts me at roughly 15% of my class. Not bad for a girl who was wait-listed originally, eh?

And because of my good mood, I may have been slightly over-zealous. I know I burned ~425 calories at the gym. I know the hour and a half of yoga I did has got to be AT LEAST another 300. Evidently I am freakin' Rambo over here.

Tomorrow I'm going to give myself the day off. Or, if I feel up to it, I may go in to the gym and do the elliptical or ride the bike. No running tomorrow. No yoga.

And now -- I must go to the store, b/c I am out of snacky things. And I am hungry. Must be all those calories I burned. :)

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Week II of the Running

This was my second Week 2 run with Robert Ulrey's Couch to 5K.

Can I just say how much I love Robert in California? Because I do. Sure, he picks weird music. But he's just so encouraging! There's just enough pep in his "You can do it!" and "This is your last one -- go for it!" to actually motivate me without making me roll my eyes at his enthusiasm.

But anyway, today I was feeling extra adventurous. So, instead of following the program, I set the treadmill to 5.0 and just ran while listening to the podcast. I wanted to see if I could make it to 7 minutes -- and I did! It coincided nicely with one of my 90 second intervals I was supposed to be running. So, then I did the 2 minute recovery walk at 3.6 or so, and kept up the intervals like Robert described.

I felt GREAT after. So great, that I walked halfway home, about a mile, before catching a bus the rest of the way.

I've decided I'm definitely a gym runner. I love the treadmill. I can control everything -- no hills will jump up and surprise me. I know exactly how far I've gone and how fast. The treadmill keeps me going, b/c if I just decide to stop (like I sometimes do when running outside) I fall off and the entire gym laughs.

And, it's summer, so the campus gym isn't nearly as chock full of beautiful people as it normally is.

Perhaps the best part, though, is that today was national running day, and I didn't even know it. What a great day to fall in love with it, eh?

Monday, June 1, 2009

Shopping confessions.

Today after yoga I headed down to Target. I was out of laundry detergent (and not out of stinky workout clothes), and needed a size smaller yoga pants. The other ones still fit, kind of ... but they're too loose at the waist, causing me to show my belly more often than I'd like in class.

But as I was walking into the store, I saw a woman who had to be around 400lbs. She was still walking, but barely. She was right in front of me, and I could hear her breathing heavily, just walking from her car to the store.

I know some people get disgusted when they see people this large. I've never been one of those people. I get ... sad. I get sad to the point that I have to fight back tears. I've never been that large, but I know what it's like to feel trapped and hopeless. I know what it's like to breathe heavily after a flight of stairs or ache after everyday activities. And I know how it feels to think you can't do anything to change it.

I wanted to go up and hug this woman. I wanted to tell her that I had to come to the store today because, with just a few changes, my pants were too big to let me do yoga without worrying about being indecent. I wanted to, but I didn't. I don't know where I would have started. I didn't want to offend her or upset her more than she's already hurting.

Maybe the reason I didn't talk to her (save my terror of offending people) was because, when I see someone noticeably large, I think, "that could have been me." Or "that could be me." I am particularly paralyzed when that person has oxygen, or can't walk. Even writing it, I'm feeling a tinge of panic.

So, there's my confession. I'm a big girl who's uncomfortable around big people. Not because I look down on them or any of the reasons people tend to dislike obese people. No, I am uncomfortable because I understand how they got there all too well. And even though I'm losing weight and loving my exercise plan for the first time in my life, I'm terrified that I may end up like that.

I hope that woman could feel my heart reaching out to hers, even if I didn't say anything. I hope she knows that she can change it.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Unrelated Sappy Post

As we speak, Boyfriend is on his way home! To me! For the weekend!


Sunday, May 24, 2009

Getting caught up on the news I missed during finals ...

... and I stumbled across this in the Washington Post:

The former head of the FDA discusses his struggle with his weight, and being able to control overeating. I've heard a lot of this information, but I thought it was interesting that a man who went to medical school, law school and ran the FDA has the same issue I have.

I think it's a good read, and the effects of fat, sugar, and salt on our weight are being accepted more and more every day. However, I then watched this guy on the Colbert Report ... and I think I want to read his book. I think the brain is key in all of this, and I want to understand it.

Because I know that I have issues with the snack cracker aisle. Sadies cookies make me weak, despite the fact that I don't really like them, because they remind me of my grandmother. I can't eat Girl Scout Cookies, because I'll eat the whole box.


I've been better. Much better. But I'm not there yet.

More running

Well, A over at Walking the Distance has inspired me. She's been blogging about running, and she just sounds like she loves it. A lot. I ran track in middle school, but even then I had a touch-and-go relationship with running. As an adult, I'm going to try to get over that feeling.

There are a ton of ways to start, but since I work out with my iPod, I decided that a podcast would probably be a good idea. And dang, there are a lot of them. A lot of free running podcasts. :)

I chose a series by Robert Ullrey, Podcasts for running: Couch to 5k (A, you may have planted the seed in my head for this particular podcast -- if so, thanks! It's great!). It's 9 weeks of running, with a different podcast for each week.

What I like best about it is that it's portable and gets you started slow. For instance, this week's podcast is roughly a 25 minute workout, starting with a brisk walk (constant throughout the program) and followed by alternating running for 60 seconds, then walking quickly for 90. I believe there were 8 running sections, followed by a 5 minute cool down.

Let me tell you, I started out saying, "A minute is up already? I could have gone a lot longer ...." and ended not completely exhausted, but with that nasty side-pain you get when you run and you're out of shape.

The downside is that the music is a little ... dancy. I mean, it gets the job done, but it's not the same as my usual workout mix, which threw me off just a little. But, I'll take it, if I have someone else keeping time for me.

Anyway, it was painful, as expected, but I've been home for about 15 minutes, and feel great. My body's got more endurance, and is getting better about recovering quickly. :) All good things.

Saturday, May 23, 2009


I ran!

I tried the gym, but it was closed for memorial day weekend, as it's through the university. I'd already walked the 1.5 miles to get there, and I was bored with walking. So I ran and walked. :)

I estimate that I probably only ran about half a mile of it. But, considering it's been YEARS since I even tried to run for more than a few feet, I feel pretty good about it.

I'm going to try again tomorrow!