23 October 2008
I got a present in the mail from Dusty. I was supposed to do the swim portion of the tri on Sep 27 with her and her mother and work got in the way. She mailed me my swag and added to my guilt for not being there. She didn't mean to add to my guilt. I do that naturally on my own. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not a closet Catholic with all the guilt I pile on myself needlessly. (And I'm feeling guilty for calling my guilt needless) So I got Dusty a "Life is Good" shirt. I ordered a medium. They sent me a large. I feel guilty for getting the wrong size and I feel guilty that I don't know if I'm going to be able to give it to her next month. I think I need to go to Confession. Do some Hail Marys or something.
In 2 weeks I head to California for the 2nd Annual Dana Point Face to Face. I am so excited. Lucky and I are flying in on Thursday. Friday we're doing the Japanese tourist thing in downtown LA - Hollywood walk of fame, the Hollywood sign, Gorman's (I think that's how it's spelled) theater, Rodeo Drive, the hunt for Harrison Ford, etc. I'm searching for plaid shorts. And a big straw hat. And tube socks to wear with my birks. I'm looking forward to seeing my gals - Kath, Bikey, Dusty, Swabbie, Kel, Lucky and Sun. I hope Pops comes. She's dropped off the face of the earth. She's got a blog so I know she's alive. I wonder if she remembers me. Oh crap - more Hail Marys are being added to my pennance list. And shit - there's another Hail Mary for the cursing. Fuck it. I'll just start the mantra now - maybe by the time the F2F rolls around, I'll be in the black and will have less to do for the F2F stuff - you know, the cursing, the debauchery, the stalking, the Japanese tourist routine.
Tomorrow is a big event day for me with my job. A Stand Down. For homeless Veterans. I've had every nightmare possible about how incredibly fantastic it will fail. That's got to be the closet Catholic coming out in her devil costume. I've done everything possible to make this thing go and I've got lists to check my lists. I just wonder where I left that list. Hmmmm. In any case - my boss and bigger boss and funds grantor will be there tomorrow. I've asked the community service organizations that I'm working with to, at least, refrain from derogertory remarks. That was probably a mistake. The State (my employer) is in a bit of a budget crunch right now. There's talk of downsizing. As much as I'd like to downsize the number on the scale, I'd rather not downsize the number going into my checking account every month. A successful event would at least show some value that I bring my position. Or at least, that's what I tell myself.
I also got a second job. For cash. And to play to my egotism. I'm a waitress at a local pizza joint. 3 days a week, I sling pizza and beer. And I love it. I love the cash. I love being the center of attention for at least 30 minutes per table. But you know what I don't love? People who don't know how to tip. For fuck's sake - doubling the tax is NOT being generous (unless the tax is 15% where you live). I make $4.00 an hour. With the cheapass peeps in my neighborhood, I average $11 hour. Thank GOD I have another job. General rule of thumb for tipping - 20% is standard for good service (the server wasn't rude, condescending or seen spitting in your food - kept your drink filled and ensured the food you ordered was the food you got). 25% is for EXCELLENT service - made you feel the center of the universe. 15% is for non-remarkable service and 10% is for service where you had to call the manager over. And my last public service announcement on this topic - your server just happens to be human. Well, unless you're in Japan being served by monkeys. But have you ever tried to tip in peanuts? They're expensive! I digress. Your server being human means that mistakes can (and will) be made. Your server being human means that some days are better than others. Just like you. A little human compassion will go a long way. And, just in case that doesn't work with you - remember - Karma's a bitch. Crap - there's another 100000000 Hail Marys on my pennance list.
It's late. I have to get up early tomorrow. And Jay Leno is on re-runs. Seriously, the dude takes a crapload of time off. I hope we get tickets to his show.
Good night and have a pleasent tomorrow. Don't forget to tip your servers and bartenders.
08 September 2008
I've discontinued Weight Watchers. Their $16.95 a month fee was a bit much for the little bit, if any, that I was putting in to it. I'm now a Daily Plate'r. I like it more. Especially as I've learned the site and to double check NI. It just gives me more information. And at a price I can live with - F-R-E-E. Yep. That's right. In addition to being a half-assed girl, I'm also cheap. I can't afford not to be. But along those lines, I can't afford to "wing it" and not use any system at all. Hell, I've done that for so many years and you can see how well it's worked for me.
I've been on a plateau since January now. I've not lost any significant weight since then. I've also not gained any significant weight since then. It seems I enjoy losing, and then finding, 5 pounds. I really wish they'd stay lost. I'm taking a cue from Alb and becoming OCD with calories (tho, she's OCD with points). I could do it with points. I've got the points calculator. I've got a majority of food point value committed to memory. I just hate logging my food. I'm still trying to play the game with myself of "if I don't write it, it doesn't count." Kinda like ignorning that pesky bill that comes every month - "if I don't open it, I don't owe it". For a smart person, I really am quite dumb.
Today I've logged everything that has passed through my lips - water (oh my god, the water I've drunk today), a bite of something I didn't like and immeadiately spit out, my Diet Dr Pepper. Everything. I've got 830 calories left for the day, if I don't exercise. But I will. Exercise. I'll hit the gym tonight and I'll be able to have a nice salad and a piece of homemade apple pie. But no ice cream. No, I cannot have ice cream. I'll pile it all on the kids' slices and breathe in the wafting sent from the rapidly warming container. Ok. Maybe I'll have a little bit of ice cream. But I'll log it. Yes. I'll log it. I'm OCD, afterall. Half-assedness doesn't work with OCD. I've got to be either or.
Somebody just walked by in an outfit screaming to be returned to the 80's. I wonder what people say about me? Oh look, something shiny...
20 August 2008
Let me explain.
I've been a Weight Watcher since 2002. But only in the last 2 years have I been committed. So for 6 years, I've only partially been serious. Half-assed (and if I could do math, I'd realize that it's truly only one third-assed). In the last 2 years of my true commitment, only 1 was "by the book". Half-assed.
I went to school, off and on, over the course of 15 years. Only the last 4 were committed. And once I committed, I got a double major done in 4 consecutive years. So does that give me a half life of my half-assedness? And my head hurts trying to figure out the percentage. Even if I could figure it out, I'd stop half-way through.
1 month ago I committed to starting my Master's degree. For 2 weeks I was focused, getting my paperwork in, registering for classes, looking at books required for class. Class starts September 1st. I haven't ordered my books or set up my email for the class. Say it with me - half-assed.
I have my first Triathalon relay coming up the end of September. By this time I should be doing work-downs: 500, 400, 300, 200, 100, 200, 300, 400, 500. Most days I'm content with just doing 400. That's what? One ninth-assed?
I had the best of intentions with this blog: introspection, insight, reflection, blah, blah, blah. But something better has come along - a rerun of "Friends" that I've seen one too many times. I'll probably only watch half of it, though.
12 August 2008
I can do that.
Looking in my freezer I have shrimp and pork chops. I make a comment to the kids about doing some sort of peach glazed shrimp and they give me the standard look all teens give their parents when they've sprouted a second head. I mention the possibility of something with pork chops. The reaction this time is a little less Men In Black so I figure I must be on the right path.
3 hours of writing, planning and finally cooking and I think it turns out pretty good. Heck - if teenagers eat it and ask for seconds, I think I'm a blue-ribbon chef. I've got some tweaking to do before I submit the recipe and finished product Saturday morning but here it is. Don't ask me why I thought these flavors would go well together. Perhaps it was my sweet craving and the lack of protein in my diet. Whatever the case, it worked.
Almond Encrusted Pork Chops with Palisade Peachsauce
- 6 ounces whole almonds, crushed finely
- 3 pork loin chops, boneless, trimmed, pounded to 1/4 inch thick
- 1 Tblsp Olive Oil
- 1/4 cup Egg Beaters w/ yolk
- 4 cups peeled, sliced Palisade Peaches (about 5)
- 12 slices peeled Palisade Peaches (about 1)
- 1/4 cup sugar
- 2 Tsp lemon juice
- Heat oil in large skillet
- Dip prepared pork chops in egg beaters and then press into crushed almonds, ensuring each pork chop is thoroughly covered
- Place chops in skillet and cook 5 minutes each side
- Cover, reduce heat to low/simmer and cook while preparing Peachsauce
- In a large saucepan, add peaches (not the 12 slices) and sugar
- Cook on medium until bubbly and peaches are tender
- Place one pork chop on plate, garnish with 4 peach slices each and a side of Peachsauce
If you try this recipe, let me know what you think. I had added some spices (garlic, salt, sugar, sesame) to the peaches and used pineapple juice instead of sugar but neither the kids or the dog liked it. And being the top-quality chef that I am, if the dog passes, I know it's not good. Being snubbed by the dog led me to try the peaches as if I were making home-made applesauce - sans the cinnamon. It worked.
My dear friend, Dusty (aka Yas, aka Busty, aka the Training Queen) is at fault for my sorry attempt into the world of blogging. So if this sucks, it's Dusty's fault!
I am not a runner. I never have been a runner. I never will be a runner. But I am inspired. My goal is to do a complete triathalon by this time next year. I have a couple things working against me in this goal. 1) I am not a runner and 2) I don't have a bike. The bike issue I can overcome with some outlay of cash but the running issue scares the pigment right out of me (and I don't have much to spare).
So like the total procrastinator that I am, I am focusing on the swim portion. I can swim. I've always swum. And in my head, I am *this close* (holding up thumb and forefinger) to beating Michael Phelps' time in the 200 Free. Yes. My imagination works quite well.
Beginnertriathlete.com is an excellent resource. If it were not for this resource, I would never have realized that all my swim life I've been doing my turns wrong. So I've started working on my turns - not very needed in an open swim but oh-so-needed in the lap lanes. They are HARD. I don't know how many times I've forced water up my nose, tried to breathe while fully submerged and scrapped my head on the lane markers coming out from the turn. It's got to get easier, right? Add to those issues my ear issues and I'm just one big, semi-sinking mess.
But I continue to swim. And one day, not too far away, I'll be able to report that I actually got the flippin' flip turn down sans water up the nose, head scrapped on the lane marker and a lung-full of water.