Zzzzzzzz

Flannel sheets should be illegal. They are preventing my goal of not hitting snooze five times each morning.

This is a good problem to have.

Stalled

A cold, the evil Thanksgiving holiday, and a general blahness have led to extreme sloth in the last three weeks. So getting on the scale today was frightening.

With more than a little surprise, I saw only a four pound gain over two weeks since last weigh-in. I had braced myself for worse. Yay, me. Sort of.

Got to get back on track.

The past week of no work and all play has proven an elixir to my weary soul. Even so, the prospect of work tomorrow is demoralizing. I keep forcing myself not to take "just one peek" at my work email. It would spiral into a complete review of my inbox, and an action plan for tomorrow morning. Best to enjoy what is left of the weekend.

Many fun times over the past 9 days.

Visited my peeps in NOVA. Met Marleigh - the sweetest American bull dog. She wouldn't fit in my bag, or she would have come home with me. Actually, it was fear of the hub's reaction to dragging home a dog that kept me from stealing her!

Saw LauraLea and Tripp Fabulous. Seven months pregnant and still rockin' - that's one tough lady!

Shopping on Monday with Courtney. She who still hasn't guest blogged. Hint, hint... Managed to finally replace my falling apart shoes. I hate shopping.

Tuesday napped through a coffee date with my favorite bartender, Xtina. She has forgiven me.

Wednesday through Friday visited the hometown. Late lunch and coffee with mom, Sarah, and WALT at the local greasy spoon. Mmm...chocolate chip waffle (four pounds, remember...I did half with my mom, at least).

Saturday another Megan sighting, this time on my turf. Took her and her momma to my favorite local coffee shop. They were duly charmed.

Last night slumbered in my bed with new flannel sheets. This morning - extra difficult crawling out of bed.

I love fall.

Interesting

Another week...and, well, another two actually, since I didn't get around to checking in last weekend.

It wasn't ENTIRELY because I gained two pounds, but that fact didn't exactly inspire me to post.

So imagine my surprise when I discovered a drop of eight pounds on the scale today.  That's a net drop of six pounds from two weeks ago.  (Didn't think you'd learn some math on this here blog, did ya?)

The surprise was exacerbated by the fact I really wasn't on my best behavior this week.  I didn't work overly hard for it, but I'll take it.  Maybe it's the power of somewhat positive thinking?

This past week held a visit to the local "big city" to see Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper in concert.  Yeah.  Basically awesome.  I think Alice Cooper and Dick Clark use the same, um, preservation expert.

Hubby and I are still enjoying Extreme Decluttering 2010 - The Event.  I won't say we had much to get rid of in the first place, but there was room for improvement.  Was it watching all those episodes of Horders that drove us to this?  Probably.

It feels good to lose weight of all kinds.

Surprise

Color me shocked, as I discovered a one pound drop on the scale this morning. It was Customer Service Week at ye old work place, and that meant an abundance of food. I also enjoyed several meals out, and didn't exactly go for the lite menu at all of them, if you know what I mean.

I was hoping for stasis, at best, so seeing a slight drop makes me happy. It means that keeping up activity is key. It means that watching portion size and still eating what I want is working.

It means that there is hope that I can live a normal life without being obsessed with counting calories and exercising compulsively.

It means I might be able to do this after all.

Cipherin'

Two pounds lighter this week. Feeling immeasurably better.

I believe this blog could turn into an algebraic word problem: Given all blog entries defining weight loss over these years, and this announcement in December 2012 that Tammy has met her goal weight, at what weight did she start?

First correct answer wins. The prize? Um, maybe my CPAP machine? Given my love / hate relationship with it, would be a fitting gesture. The hope being with great weight loss, the need for the damn thing will go away.

I love the fall. Here's one reason why:




Sure, the spring means new hope and renewal, but the fall feels cleansing to me. And the colors sure are purdy.

Progress

Down four pounds this week. Almost on my goal line at SparkPeople. The goal is more like a guideline. As long as I feel better, and am happier with myself, I don't care what the scale says.  But it's still good to see progress.

At my lightest adult weight, in my mid-20's, a family friend told me I was downright skinny. During that conversation (with Mrs. Louise Mullins, R.I.P.), I expressed that I would kill myself if I ever gained it back.  I guess I was a little bit of a drama queen in my younger years...

Not only did I gain it back, but I gained more.  And I'm still alive.  So either I forgot about this conversation (I didn't) or I'm not one to follow through (guess I'm not).  Either way, can't unspill milk.

Moving forward.

Goals

I really stink at this blogging thing. Even so, I guess I'll keep it up. My rabid followers can't all be wrong...right? Hello? Are all five of you still there?

I'm inviting a friend to be a guest blogger. She'll bring a little je ne sais quoi to the party. Or she'll prove more prolific than I am, and shame me into posting more. If she accepts. If she doesn't decide this blog is too lame to live.

Either way, I'll continue to do what I can with what I've got.

In other news, I have decided that I want to weigh 160 pounds by my fortieth birthday. This is a little over two years away. I will need every day, week, and month of it.

I don't imagine I will be as brave as Tyler and bring you weekly weigh-ins and candid photographs, but I'm hoping a little bit of transparency will help keep me honest and focused.

That is all. I now return you back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Communication

I think the shift from telephone calls to text messaging is due to the fact people want more flexibility to use the bathroom while talking. Think about it.

On the same note, when you walk into a public facility and see an unflushed toilet, is there any doubt the person was talking on the phone and didn't want to let the party on the other end of the line know?

Sigh

Saw the Smashing Pumpkins at The Fillmore in Charlotte, NC last night. Great show in a smaller venue. I might not have seen them in the 90's during their heyday, but I appreciated it more with a little age under my belt.

The saddest part of everything is that when choosing my wardrobe, looking cool wasn't a factor. It was all about footwear that would get me through hours of standing.

Now that I'm older and have the resources to see more shows, I'm lacking the stamina and often the opportunity to see someone I deem worthwhile.

Yet another thing on the long list of cruel twists age brings.

Driving

Listening to Pandora, Blondie Radio. Not sure why The Cure's "Love Song" found its way into the mix, but I'm glad to hear it. Good song. Brings back lots of memories.

Twenty plus years ago, in my Podunk home town, there was next to nothing to do. Music drove me in a way it hasn't managed to do since, and often I was literally driving while cranking the tunes.

"Love Song" brought back memories of unrequited love (okay, a high school crush), although at the time, I was still in the hopeful stage. I didn't realize some people were out of reach of a fat, geeky girl. If this shows lack of self awareness, or an unjustifiable ego, I'm still not sure. I didn't see any reason this popular, albeit a little goofy, guy couldn't be mine.

In the end I didn't get that guy, but that's just well. I've got a pretty swell feller now, and we share all kinds of music on our drive together through this life.

Simplify

My mantra lately has been: "Simplify."

A clear, uncluttered mind can focus on the things that are most important. And the things that bring the most joy.

You would think simplicity would be easy, but it's harder than you would think.

Wanted

I need a new hobby. Something to occupy my hands, and my mind.

I did myself a disservice in my early 20's by voraciously skipping from one hobby to another, and find myself approaching forty wondering what to do next.

My criteria is impossibly convoluted, likely impossible to meet:

* Not overly expensive
* Not overly messy
* The byproduct doesn't take up a lot of space
* The byproduct is something I could either easily sell, or find a home for
* See results relatively quickly, yet isn't something too easy

(Maybe the mindset I'm expressing by calling something a "byproduct" of a hobby isn't exactly in the spirit of hobbies?)

It would be cool if I found a way to combine this hobby with this little blog of mine, and develop a small community to inspire me. Alas, I'm at a loss as to how this could happen.

Perhaps I'm at a point in my life where my hobby is recognizing the brilliance of others, and appreciating what they do in their little corners of the world.

Multitasking

It's not enough to make phone calls or listen to audio books while driving. Those are both effective ways to accomplish more in less time, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

Fold laundry while enjoying some private time on the, er, no way to put this delicately, toilet. Have an audio book on in the background, for the multitasking trifecta. Bonus!

Socks

Know how some people complain their socks disappear in the dryer? Mine multiply in the washer. Well, my husband's, anyway.

We do laundry once a week (another reason to love a two person household!), and it all seems manageable when putting it away - except his socks.

I swear, unless my beloved wears two pairs a day when I'm not looking, spontaneous reproduction is the only explanation for why they keep coming out of the dryer like rabbits out of a magician's hat!

Vindicated

I'm not the only one who thinks the census people are going a little overboard with their awareness campaign.

More

Today I received a post card telling me I should have received my census form by now.  Said census form was received, completed, and mailed in earlier this week.  Today's post card joined last week's letter in the shredder.

This annoys me on so many levels.  Harassment via snail mail is so 20th century.  If the government is so concerned about a high rate of compliance in completing the forms, why not offer an incentive:

The first 10 million citizens to return their forms will receive a free Cheese Machine.  Free stuff = immediate responses.

Warning: the Cheese Machine isn't necessarily safe for work or intended for children.  It isn't necessarily necessary, either.

Loss

Once gone, it's like you never had it in the first place. It had you.

Waste

Got a letter today from the 2010 Census people. They wanted to let me know I would be receiving my 2010 Census Form soon, and to please fill it out and return it in a timely manner. Or kittens will die, or something.

A letter telling me a letter is coming.

Is this a conspiracy by the USPS to try to salvage their archaic, doomed business model? I smell collusion!

Connections

My longtime favorite author
Stephen King

wrote a book which became a movie called

Misery
starring
Kathy Bates
who was also in a movie called
Fried Green Tomatoes
which featured
Mary-Louise Parker
who now stars in a television series called
"Weeds"
whose episode "Bill Sussman" featured a song called
"Girl Anachronism"
performed by
The Dresden Dolls
whose lead singer is
Amanda Palmer
who makes me smile because she kicks ass.

The television show
My So-Called Life
starred "critically acclaimed"
Claire Danes
who shined (literally) in
Stardust
which was based on a book written by
Neil Gaiman
who is fiancé to Miss Palmer.

Both of these paths brought me to the book I am currently reading, American Gods.

I just thought you'd like to know.

Dawgs

Why grill or broil your hot dogs when you can electrocute them?

I can't believe my mom bought this in the first place, but in the 80's, that's what you did - bought ridiculous unitasking food prep appliances.

But how has it survived numerous decluttering raids by both me and my sister in recent years?

One theory - ridiculous as it might sound - is that mom has been hiding it somewhere to keep it safe from us.  This idea is bolstered by the fact she didn't know I was stopping by the house this weekend.  Maybe she only puts it out on display when we aren't going to be there to see it?

It was sitting in the kitchen, brazenly, as if taunting me.  I left it alone.  It deserves that much, having survived this long.

Lost

What do you do when you realize you are lost? Find yourself.

Anyone have the GPS coordinates for that?

Fastidiousness

I identify with the guy in that Julia Roberts movie.  I, too, want the hand towels in my bath room to be "just so".  But I'm not a sociopath.  You've got to draw the line somewhere.

Ridiculousness

I am sitting at Barnes & Noble writing this blog post on my iPhone. I am the coolest person I know.

I don't know many people.

Madness

Today I got two letters in the mail from my insurance company.  The first one I opened said I had overpaid my premium due to a "processing error" (whatever THAT means), and that I would be receiving a refund check.

With dollar signs dancing in my eyes, I opened the second letter.  And I found my great big refund check of...drum roll, please...$0.17.  That is not a typo.  Seven...teen...cents.

This company paid postage to send two letters, processed two pieces of paper, in order to pay me $0.17.  I will have to deposit this into my bank account, undoubtedly via ATM, so there's gas, time, envelope, etc.  The bank will use their resources to credit this whopping refund to my account. 

All told I figure the world as a whole is in the hole, oh, $75.  Is it any wonder insurance premiums never drop?

I'd almost let it go, keep it as a conversation piece, but, well, I'm too damn cheap for that.  Seventeen cents is seventeen cents.  Doesn't mean I can't call it stupid.

Beds

I have a love/hate relationship with beds. Don't get me wrong - some of my best sleeping has been done in beds (and that's not a euphemism, I mean zzz's).

It took me around three years to commit to my current mattress. A year to decide queen versus king (king won - I guess mine is a patriarchal domain). The rest of the time was divided between looking, deciding, balking on price, giving up, waiting, repeating. The above processes were not necessarily consecutive nor sequential.

Then came sheets. Why are they so complicated? I don't blame the sheet manufacturers. I blame the mattress companies. Why can't there be a standardized thickness so all sheets will just fit? It works for electrical outlets. Why is their product so proprietary?

Sheets either refuse to stretch enough to work, or in my recent experience, have enough fabric leftover to make pillowcases.

Long story short (too late), I've had the bed nearly a year, and just upgraded the sheets. (Yep, I'm geeky enough that I said upgraded relative to household furnishings.) Sometimes I just like to stop and appreciate the fact that I can take four years to make decisions, and nobody can say a damn thing about it.

Emptiness

When you aren't sure what to do with a room, let your stocking cap decide.

Nothing

I had a least three ideas for new blogs earlier in the week, and let them - poof! - float right out of my head.  Sorry, Phil.  I need to start writing my nuggets of wisdom down so I can expound on them later.

I do want to express my excitement of the progress my friend Sarah is making on her uncluttering.  I take credit for support and occasional guidance, but the hard work is all hers.  I'm very proud!

Today is a lazy Friday off, a mental health day of sorts.  I'm celebrating twelve years with the hubby this weekend, eight married.  I think the last three have probably been the best.  But don't tell him that.

Knots

Why is it that my left shoe always comes untied at least four times more often than my right shoe?  Do I have a abnormal gait?  Is it a conspiracy my left shoe has to trip me, and the right shoe won't follow?

Manners

Open letter to the person who sat beside me at the Barter Theatre last week:

Smacking gum and loudly popping bubbles during a public performance is rude.

Sincerely,

Annoyed

To any of my rabid readers (all, what, two of you?) who can find time to do so, go see the Barter's performance of Alice in Wonderland.  C'est magnifique!

Laundry

Laundry bores me.  I dislike laundry.  I only recently figured out why.

There's no surprise.  No mystery. 

My laundry doesn't even have the gumption to magically disappear.  I've heard fairy tales of a mystical land where missing socks run away:  breed, and raise baby socks; live happily ever after.

The white socks I put into the washer?  They come out of the dryer.  I have to fold them, and put them away.

Laundry, how you disappoint me.

Waiting

Every day that passes is just another in a long line of days that I'm waiting for something to happen.  During that time, things happen that annoy me.  Frustrate me.  And generally make me wish I weren't.  Waiting.

But I keep doing it.  Maybe one day, I'll know why.