Oh yes, Internet, diamonds are a girl's best friend, just like dogs are man's best friend. And guess what? We got one of each today! And neither were on the plan for today. At all. Wow.
The dog is the easiest for us to rationalize to ourselves. We were coming home and decided to see about a garage sale that was just down the street. Lo and behold, the sale was at a friend's house. A friend who just happens to breed Dachshunds. And for the past six months or so, we've been talking about getting another Doxie because just one (my little Jasmine) was not enough Small Dog for us. We walked away with a one-year-old standard size red male that weighs in at 30 pounds - so very not a Small Dog - and a stunned look on both of our faces. Oh, and did I mention that Jasmine is in heat? So we brought her back over to breed with our neighbor's miniature Doxie because apparently all of a sudden we have an obsessive desire to start our own small herd of stunted-leg dogs.
And the best part? We are also planning on getting an Australian Shepherd puppy (as a replacement for The Husband's beloved Sheba) hopefully next week. I think we've gone insane. Hold me!
Now for the diamond. :::sigh:::
When The Husband and I got married, we eloped. We did not have rings for each other, nor did we have the money at that time to get rings. We had rings at home at a jeweler on layaway, but that kind of doesn't count. Because we were very poor at the time I also never got an engagement ring.
The Husband and I have a habit of getting re-married every once in a while. The first time we did, he surprised me on a trip we made to Las Vegas with a proposal over the radio and we renewed our vows at the drive-thru of the Little White Wedding Chapel (I rate the drive-thru there at sunset an A+ experience). The second surprise of the evening was his presenting me with a diamond engagement ring. It was a very small one - perhaps 1/5th of a carat and commensurate with our level of financial stability at the time - but it meant the world to me.
Since then, we've never made big jewelry purchases a priority. Frankly, I don't care about the bling, but The Husband has always made noises about wanting to get me something.
The Husband had to get his wedding band sized up because he jammed his ring finger and now that the knuckle has healed, it is bigger than it was previously - rending the ring too small and painful to get on. We went back to the jewelry store to see if it was ready to be picked up and also to check out possible new wedding bands because ours are beginning to get really worn after 12 years.
Well, not only did we find new matching wedding bands, we started discussing possibly resetting my "engagement" ring to make it more flush with my hand. We were looking at different settings in the jeweler's book, when we found one that he had an example of. Oh, we should look at that! Need to know what it would look like, right?
The setting was much better than the Tiffany prong one that I had and I said that this would be perfect. Then The Husband got into the act. The ring I was looking at was a wedding set. The engagement part was a much bigger diamond than the one I already had. But the wedding part had a space for a smaller jewel that wasn't set with anything.
Before I know it, The Husband is singing the receipt for the wedding set, the jeweler has my engagement ring to take the diamond out of it to put into the other wedding band. It seems I now have a totally new wedding set. I think I have more wedding rings now than I have ring fingers, between the old wedding band, the new wedding band, and the new wedding/engagement ring set. And I'm supposed to wear them all how?
And they say that women are impulse shoppers. Hah!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Fifty?
I hate it when I leave my blog for so long. Makes me feel like a slacker. Then again, I've been trying to stave off a sheep invasion of my eight beds of asparagus, keep the male pheasants from killing each other, and get the roof of my quilting studio shingled. Oh! And I've got my country's 500th anniversary to plan, a kingdom to run and my wife to murder. I'm swamped!
Anyway . . .
So the scale has been dangling a 50-pound loss like a carrot (steak?) in front of my nose these last few days. It feels kind of wierd to say that I've lost 49 pounds, but I don't want to cheat and round it up to the 50 when I really haven't. Lost it, that is.
Once I do reach the 50 pound loss, that will mean that I have 115 pounds to go to make it down to my goal of weighing 150 pounds. What *is* it with me and round numbers? Is there some reason why I can't pick, say, 147 pounds as my goal weight? Or is it because I want this to be all nice and tidy for me? Am I becoming obessive compulsive here? Could be. Or maybe I need to get back on the prozac.
This all leads me to the question of precisely how much I should weigh to be a normal person. And honestly, I don't know. I just picked the number of 150 because that's a number I've weighed previously. But is that really the weight that I should be shooting for?
When I weighed 150 pounds last, I was in high school. I was probably a size 14 then. I was definitely NOT skinny. But was I healthy? I suppose so. I had an active life, did a lot of physical things and such. But I always noticed that I didn't fit in because yes, I was bigger than most of the other girls. Heck, even some of the guys!
In checking out a link that Jen posted a while back, for my age and height it tells me that the average weight is 173lbs with a BMI of 26.4. Hrm. I don't know that I would be satisfied with that. It still seems fairly overweight for me in remembering how my body was at 173lbs. I weighed about that much when I met The Husband, and was wanting to lose some weight even then.
The link also says that my medical ideal weight should be 141lbs. Not bad, I suppose. A bit less than my "goal" but possibly do-able. Then again, it has the possibility of of being a weight that I would look skeletal at. I don't think I could handle the comments that would come with that - "Eat a sandwich, already!" "You're looking unhealthy!" "I'm worried about you, Sarah!" Feh.
In the end, no amount of obsessing or anticipating stupid comments from other people is going to help me figure out where I "should" land. Once I hit 180, it's going to be just a matter of figuring out what looks right on me I suppose. This is going to be one area of this where I just need to give up on trying to plan it all out. That should be fun. Or not.
Anyway . . .
So the scale has been dangling a 50-pound loss like a carrot (steak?) in front of my nose these last few days. It feels kind of wierd to say that I've lost 49 pounds, but I don't want to cheat and round it up to the 50 when I really haven't. Lost it, that is.
Once I do reach the 50 pound loss, that will mean that I have 115 pounds to go to make it down to my goal of weighing 150 pounds. What *is* it with me and round numbers? Is there some reason why I can't pick, say, 147 pounds as my goal weight? Or is it because I want this to be all nice and tidy for me? Am I becoming obessive compulsive here? Could be. Or maybe I need to get back on the prozac.
This all leads me to the question of precisely how much I should weigh to be a normal person. And honestly, I don't know. I just picked the number of 150 because that's a number I've weighed previously. But is that really the weight that I should be shooting for?
When I weighed 150 pounds last, I was in high school. I was probably a size 14 then. I was definitely NOT skinny. But was I healthy? I suppose so. I had an active life, did a lot of physical things and such. But I always noticed that I didn't fit in because yes, I was bigger than most of the other girls. Heck, even some of the guys!
In checking out a link that Jen posted a while back, for my age and height it tells me that the average weight is 173lbs with a BMI of 26.4. Hrm. I don't know that I would be satisfied with that. It still seems fairly overweight for me in remembering how my body was at 173lbs. I weighed about that much when I met The Husband, and was wanting to lose some weight even then.
The link also says that my medical ideal weight should be 141lbs. Not bad, I suppose. A bit less than my "goal" but possibly do-able. Then again, it has the possibility of of being a weight that I would look skeletal at. I don't think I could handle the comments that would come with that - "Eat a sandwich, already!" "You're looking unhealthy!" "I'm worried about you, Sarah!" Feh.
In the end, no amount of obsessing or anticipating stupid comments from other people is going to help me figure out where I "should" land. Once I hit 180, it's going to be just a matter of figuring out what looks right on me I suppose. This is going to be one area of this where I just need to give up on trying to plan it all out. That should be fun. Or not.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Hrmm. Below Average? Eh.
Alltogether, I suppose the test is not far off. It's far fewer questions than are on a regular IQ test, but I'll say it's a fair cop. I usually test out at five IQ points either way with other online tests. I much prefer being told that I'm a visual mathematician, though.
| Your IQ Is 140 |
 Your Logical Intelligence is Below Average Your Verbal Intelligence is Genius Your Mathematical Intelligence is Genius Your General Knowledge is Genius |
Urge to Kill. Rising.
I think I'm going to have to kill my co-worker.
It is with great regret that I have decided this as he is quite a nice person. Well, at least when he's not being a curmudgeon. But damn, he is tap-dancing on my last nerve.
We both produce what are known as FRDs - Functional Requirement Documents. Very boring, very tedious, often complex. The problem is that *I* have become by default the software guru for Microsoft Office when I am nothing of the sort. When you can't make it work, run to Sarah! She has the answer!
Yes, I have been an teaching assistant in the various MS Office courses that are offered online at our local community college. No, this does not mean that I know every little nuance of these programs and am frankly often baffled at some of the things they do. I have never bothered to take the MSCE tests. Firstly because I think it's a crock of shit because you would have to re-take it every time a new version of Office came out if you wanted to really deserve the status and secondly because I know that I don't know enough to pass the damn thing. You would think this would give some people a clue, right? Wrong.
As part of our FRDs, we have what we call the "Tree." This Tree shows you the various parts of the document under its different functional headings. It's all very pretty and is very tedious to create and to update. And on top of that, it's a fucking eye chart no matter what you do to it or how big you make it. It is what it is.
To make the Tree work in the simplest way possible, I devised a system whereby it was created in Excel, and then imported into Word as an Excel document. This worked for quite some time. For quick fixes, we could click the Tree, edit a few things and all was right with the world. If we needed to do more, we would go back to the original Excel document and fix it there and then import it back in.
Then either Ehn-Ehm-Si-Eye or Microsoft started going screwey on us. All of a sudden, things weren't looking so nice when imported as they used to. The Tree was getting distorted, half of it would be blurry, the other half crisp - a total mess.
So I got the idea to copy the Excel document, and then paste it into Word as something special, like a bitmap or enhanced metafile. Viola! A perfect picture every time. Problem solved!
Not quite. My co-worker can't seem to understand that because we had to change the way we put the Tree in, that he can no longer click on it to make small changes. You have to go back to the original Excel file, and then re-paste it in there. A small inconvenience, but well worth it to have a better looking document, IMO. (And let me say here that ALL of our problems would be solved if the gummint would let us do this on Macs or if we could use different software such as Interleaf/Quicksilver, but noooooooo! Word is the best! Word is awesome! NOT!)
Well, co-worker throws a fit. Why can't you make this work? It used to work before! These aren't clickable! They need to be clickable! You're not doing your job! You're not helping me enough! I've got to get this out today! Wah! Wah, wa, wa, wa, wah!
Dude. If you would have listened just one of the multitudes of times over the last SIX years that I have sat down and told you about this and described how it works and how YOU CAN DO IT TOO, then maybe, just maybe, you could actually do this yourself instead of relying on me.
But nice gal that I am (he is my customer, after all) I attempt, yet again, to import the document in as a clickable Excel file. And once again, it doesn't work well. And this time, there's another problem. Not all of the file is showing up for some reason. You double click to edit it and try to move the border like you should be able to. It moves, but then snaps back to where it was. But going on the vertical instead of the horizontal, it works just fine. Wierd. And precisely the reason why we changed how we did it. But, he wants them clickable. Fine. He'll get them clickable. So I alter the one that's being the biggest piece of shit into a different configuration as a temporary stopgap. I figure this will do for now as neither of us can afford to spend ALL DAY LONG on the problem. And it's not as if this is the final delivery. The big-wigs don't mind when we do things like this as placeholders.
I e-mail them over to him to insert into his document. And again, they are screwed up. (Our other problem is that for some reason when we e-mail documents to each other, they often come out looking completely different even though we are both set to the same styles, fonts, font sizes, etc. Again, not something I understand, and something I have no clue on how to fix!)
But this time he doesn't tell me they're cruddy. No, he sits on it and waits until I come in this morning to jump on me about it.
These need to work! You have to get on this! :::sigh::: Why couldn't you have told me this yesterday? I have deadlines for different things going on today. What. Ever.
And now, he's ready to have them become bitmaps or enhanced metafiles. Finally! He sees the light! Now I can get them to him lighteing quick. Praise the Lord!
But I am sick and tired of having the same discussion (argument?) every month or so. Just beacause time has passed doesn't mean that our problems have been solved. And I'm sorry that I just don't know enough to fix this for you. How about you take a damn class or two in order to deal with this yourself? Technically, you're the lead here. Lead, dammit!
Oh but wait. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. Right. Jerk.
It is with great regret that I have decided this as he is quite a nice person. Well, at least when he's not being a curmudgeon. But damn, he is tap-dancing on my last nerve.
We both produce what are known as FRDs - Functional Requirement Documents. Very boring, very tedious, often complex. The problem is that *I* have become by default the software guru for Microsoft Office when I am nothing of the sort. When you can't make it work, run to Sarah! She has the answer!
Yes, I have been an teaching assistant in the various MS Office courses that are offered online at our local community college. No, this does not mean that I know every little nuance of these programs and am frankly often baffled at some of the things they do. I have never bothered to take the MSCE tests. Firstly because I think it's a crock of shit because you would have to re-take it every time a new version of Office came out if you wanted to really deserve the status and secondly because I know that I don't know enough to pass the damn thing. You would think this would give some people a clue, right? Wrong.
As part of our FRDs, we have what we call the "Tree." This Tree shows you the various parts of the document under its different functional headings. It's all very pretty and is very tedious to create and to update. And on top of that, it's a fucking eye chart no matter what you do to it or how big you make it. It is what it is.
To make the Tree work in the simplest way possible, I devised a system whereby it was created in Excel, and then imported into Word as an Excel document. This worked for quite some time. For quick fixes, we could click the Tree, edit a few things and all was right with the world. If we needed to do more, we would go back to the original Excel document and fix it there and then import it back in.
Then either Ehn-Ehm-Si-Eye or Microsoft started going screwey on us. All of a sudden, things weren't looking so nice when imported as they used to. The Tree was getting distorted, half of it would be blurry, the other half crisp - a total mess.
So I got the idea to copy the Excel document, and then paste it into Word as something special, like a bitmap or enhanced metafile. Viola! A perfect picture every time. Problem solved!
Not quite. My co-worker can't seem to understand that because we had to change the way we put the Tree in, that he can no longer click on it to make small changes. You have to go back to the original Excel file, and then re-paste it in there. A small inconvenience, but well worth it to have a better looking document, IMO. (And let me say here that ALL of our problems would be solved if the gummint would let us do this on Macs or if we could use different software such as Interleaf/Quicksilver, but noooooooo! Word is the best! Word is awesome! NOT!)
Well, co-worker throws a fit. Why can't you make this work? It used to work before! These aren't clickable! They need to be clickable! You're not doing your job! You're not helping me enough! I've got to get this out today! Wah! Wah, wa, wa, wa, wah!
Dude. If you would have listened just one of the multitudes of times over the last SIX years that I have sat down and told you about this and described how it works and how YOU CAN DO IT TOO, then maybe, just maybe, you could actually do this yourself instead of relying on me.
But nice gal that I am (he is my customer, after all) I attempt, yet again, to import the document in as a clickable Excel file. And once again, it doesn't work well. And this time, there's another problem. Not all of the file is showing up for some reason. You double click to edit it and try to move the border like you should be able to. It moves, but then snaps back to where it was. But going on the vertical instead of the horizontal, it works just fine. Wierd. And precisely the reason why we changed how we did it. But, he wants them clickable. Fine. He'll get them clickable. So I alter the one that's being the biggest piece of shit into a different configuration as a temporary stopgap. I figure this will do for now as neither of us can afford to spend ALL DAY LONG on the problem. And it's not as if this is the final delivery. The big-wigs don't mind when we do things like this as placeholders.
I e-mail them over to him to insert into his document. And again, they are screwed up. (Our other problem is that for some reason when we e-mail documents to each other, they often come out looking completely different even though we are both set to the same styles, fonts, font sizes, etc. Again, not something I understand, and something I have no clue on how to fix!)
But this time he doesn't tell me they're cruddy. No, he sits on it and waits until I come in this morning to jump on me about it.
These need to work! You have to get on this! :::sigh::: Why couldn't you have told me this yesterday? I have deadlines for different things going on today. What. Ever.
And now, he's ready to have them become bitmaps or enhanced metafiles. Finally! He sees the light! Now I can get them to him lighteing quick. Praise the Lord!
But I am sick and tired of having the same discussion (argument?) every month or so. Just beacause time has passed doesn't mean that our problems have been solved. And I'm sorry that I just don't know enough to fix this for you. How about you take a damn class or two in order to deal with this yourself? Technically, you're the lead here. Lead, dammit!
Oh but wait. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. Right. Jerk.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Two months down, the rest of my life to go
Hot damn. Life is good with the DS. I cannot complain one little bit.
I did my official weigh-in yesterday on my anniversary and am now down to 271 for a total of 44 pounds lost since being switched. I haven't weighed this little in about 4 years. And it feels soooo good!
The Husband started listing out to me all the changes that he's noticing. He can lie next to me and put his arm over me around my rib cage and actually feel like he's completely holding me with his hand behind my back. Before, his hand would just graze the bed. My hipbones apparently are poking him again when we spoon in bed or have sex. He says the "girls" are getting smaller in certain areas (I think he's fibbing here a bit - he's just paranoid that I won't have boobs when I lose all the weight). He notices the loss in my face as well and thinks it's wonderful.
As for me, the only place that I notice the weight gone is in my face. I'm actually enjoying putting makeup on again, even though my face is in a teenage rebellion again due to all the hormones running rampant in me. He's a pimple, she's a pimple, I'm a pimple, we're a pimple, wouldn't you like to be a pimple too? Aaaaugh!
And speaking of hormones running rampant, why in the FUCK am I lactating again? I'm not talking full-on lactating, but if I squeeze the boobies/nipples in the right way, there's some colostrum that comes out. There is no way that I am pregnant, people, but this just wierds me out. It's odd when you do your breast self examination in the shower like normal and stuff that you haven't seen in seven years comes out.
I have also noticed that I am no longer galumphing around like a Snuffalupagus. I have my sashay back in my hips again, and don't make tromping noises everywhere I step. It's the little victories like this that are the best, I think. Who cares if I haven't gone down dress sizes. Having a normal gait back makes it worth waiting to see the numbers on the clothes go down. It will come in time, so I'll just be patient.
Yesterday was an odd day for food. It seemed that every five minutes I was hungry and had to do something about it. It wasn't head hunger, but full-on tummy-throttling-my-esophagus hunger. The kind that needs to be fed or Very Bad Things happen to you. Drinking water made no difference. So, I ate.
For breakfast, it was an Isopure Zero Carb Chocolate protein shake made with 16 oz of milk and one scoop of powder for around 40 grams of protein, rounded down. Add to that my vitamin, which has 10 grams of protein in it and I was already at 50 grams of protein for the day when the first hunger pangs hit. So, to assuage it, I tried some of the beef jerkey crisps Sharon turned me on to. And added in a handful of cashews for good measure. So that makes over 60 grams of protein total and it wasn't even 10 a.m.
At lunch, I had a Budget Gourmet Chicken Fettuichini with 14 grams of protein. Then for snacks, I had pastrami slices with dollups of cream cheese rolled up in them as well as a sun-dried tomato turkey breast slice with two slices of provolone cheese rolled up. Let's call that another 10 grams of protein. Total is now up to 84 grams.
Upon getting home, I had to tide myself over until dinner with about five little smokies. Another 14 grams of protein right there. And then for dinner we had sausage-stuffed mushrooms. I'll go on the light side of things and call that 8 grams of protein.
A grand total of 106 grams of protein people. And that's rounding down on things. Un. Freaking. Real.
This morning, I got on the scale, expecting to see at least a couple of pounds gain. Nope. Still 271. Then I did my morning elimination, and even after all of that (and there was a lot of it!), I STILL weighed 271.
And so far today? I just plain don't want to eat. It's going to be hard to get in my protein. I'll probably have to have another Isopure shake when I get home just to get my levels up.
What an alternate reality I'm living in. Very, very wierd. But apparently totally normal. Such a head trip!
I did my official weigh-in yesterday on my anniversary and am now down to 271 for a total of 44 pounds lost since being switched. I haven't weighed this little in about 4 years. And it feels soooo good!
The Husband started listing out to me all the changes that he's noticing. He can lie next to me and put his arm over me around my rib cage and actually feel like he's completely holding me with his hand behind my back. Before, his hand would just graze the bed. My hipbones apparently are poking him again when we spoon in bed or have sex. He says the "girls" are getting smaller in certain areas (I think he's fibbing here a bit - he's just paranoid that I won't have boobs when I lose all the weight). He notices the loss in my face as well and thinks it's wonderful.
As for me, the only place that I notice the weight gone is in my face. I'm actually enjoying putting makeup on again, even though my face is in a teenage rebellion again due to all the hormones running rampant in me. He's a pimple, she's a pimple, I'm a pimple, we're a pimple, wouldn't you like to be a pimple too? Aaaaugh!
And speaking of hormones running rampant, why in the FUCK am I lactating again? I'm not talking full-on lactating, but if I squeeze the boobies/nipples in the right way, there's some colostrum that comes out. There is no way that I am pregnant, people, but this just wierds me out. It's odd when you do your breast self examination in the shower like normal and stuff that you haven't seen in seven years comes out.
I have also noticed that I am no longer galumphing around like a Snuffalupagus. I have my sashay back in my hips again, and don't make tromping noises everywhere I step. It's the little victories like this that are the best, I think. Who cares if I haven't gone down dress sizes. Having a normal gait back makes it worth waiting to see the numbers on the clothes go down. It will come in time, so I'll just be patient.
Yesterday was an odd day for food. It seemed that every five minutes I was hungry and had to do something about it. It wasn't head hunger, but full-on tummy-throttling-my-esophagus hunger. The kind that needs to be fed or Very Bad Things happen to you. Drinking water made no difference. So, I ate.
For breakfast, it was an Isopure Zero Carb Chocolate protein shake made with 16 oz of milk and one scoop of powder for around 40 grams of protein, rounded down. Add to that my vitamin, which has 10 grams of protein in it and I was already at 50 grams of protein for the day when the first hunger pangs hit. So, to assuage it, I tried some of the beef jerkey crisps Sharon turned me on to. And added in a handful of cashews for good measure. So that makes over 60 grams of protein total and it wasn't even 10 a.m.
At lunch, I had a Budget Gourmet Chicken Fettuichini with 14 grams of protein. Then for snacks, I had pastrami slices with dollups of cream cheese rolled up in them as well as a sun-dried tomato turkey breast slice with two slices of provolone cheese rolled up. Let's call that another 10 grams of protein. Total is now up to 84 grams.
Upon getting home, I had to tide myself over until dinner with about five little smokies. Another 14 grams of protein right there. And then for dinner we had sausage-stuffed mushrooms. I'll go on the light side of things and call that 8 grams of protein.
A grand total of 106 grams of protein people. And that's rounding down on things. Un. Freaking. Real.
This morning, I got on the scale, expecting to see at least a couple of pounds gain. Nope. Still 271. Then I did my morning elimination, and even after all of that (and there was a lot of it!), I STILL weighed 271.
And so far today? I just plain don't want to eat. It's going to be hard to get in my protein. I'll probably have to have another Isopure shake when I get home just to get my levels up.
What an alternate reality I'm living in. Very, very wierd. But apparently totally normal. Such a head trip!
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Biting My Tongue
Today The Husband and I started a new small group with our church. This time, we're not leading it (gotta get in your breaks when you can!) but it's still a marriage class. This one is called Our Secret Paradise, and so far it's pretty neat. This week's session was about the unrealistic expectations people go into a marriage with and how they get their hearts broken because of it. Very relevant and very, very true in many marriages today.
We watched the video and then did a roundtable discussion afterwards. At one point, the subject came around to why Christ died. Of course, good Christians all, we were able to chorus that it was to take away sin. But the leader of the group didn't leave it at that. No, he had to push it to the "fact" that Christ died to take away the sins of Christians. Only.
Now me, being as how I believe that Christ died for everyone and that He will complete his stated mission of saving the whole world, had to "correct" the man. "You mean to say that Christ came to take away the sin of the world," I responded.
"Oh, but only those of us who believe and who have accepted the substitutionary attonement of Christ's sacrifice . . ." and this is where I just tuned him out.
Hrm. Let's see here. Where is the verse in the Bible that talks about substitutionary attonement? Can anyone find "substitutionary attonement" ANYWHERE in the Bible? I can't.
This terminology, along with a whole bunch of other things like oh, say the Trinity, have been used over the years to try and explain away the plain, simple truth that is laid out for us and instead to insert a different viewpoint to what can be read, or to even cover it over with something else entirely.
Why can we not trust the words that are given to us? Why do we have to substitute the "learning" of man when everything that is in the Word says something else? Why do we not take the Word of the God we worship seriously? I mean, we claim that we do, but in practice, we have to make up all sorts of things to impress others with our stunning knowledge of what God really meant. Especially when He doesn't say anything of the sort at all.
It's getting really hard to bite my tongue about things like this. I know that anything I say will be considered at least a silly frippery or at worst, rocking the boat - which is most definately Not To Be Done. Christians are too schooled in their beliefs - man-made beliefs - to actually try and search these things out for themselves. Oh, but of course we read and study our Bibles daily with great furvor.
It's as if we never came out of the Dark Ages. Yes, we all have our copies of the Bible now, but we're still being controlled by whichever sect we decide has the most "truth" instead of just the RCC. At least the RCC is honest in saying that the average layperson doesn't understand the Truths of God. The Reformation is such a crock of bullshit - we just traded one yoke for another.
I guess this is all about my journey, rather than about my frustrations over this. I suppose it's preparing me for something - goodness only knows what. Guess that'll be what's fun to find out in the end, right?
We watched the video and then did a roundtable discussion afterwards. At one point, the subject came around to why Christ died. Of course, good Christians all, we were able to chorus that it was to take away sin. But the leader of the group didn't leave it at that. No, he had to push it to the "fact" that Christ died to take away the sins of Christians. Only.
Now me, being as how I believe that Christ died for everyone and that He will complete his stated mission of saving the whole world, had to "correct" the man. "You mean to say that Christ came to take away the sin of the world," I responded.
"Oh, but only those of us who believe and who have accepted the substitutionary attonement of Christ's sacrifice . . ." and this is where I just tuned him out.
Hrm. Let's see here. Where is the verse in the Bible that talks about substitutionary attonement? Can anyone find "substitutionary attonement" ANYWHERE in the Bible? I can't.
This terminology, along with a whole bunch of other things like oh, say the Trinity, have been used over the years to try and explain away the plain, simple truth that is laid out for us and instead to insert a different viewpoint to what can be read, or to even cover it over with something else entirely.
Why can we not trust the words that are given to us? Why do we have to substitute the "learning" of man when everything that is in the Word says something else? Why do we not take the Word of the God we worship seriously? I mean, we claim that we do, but in practice, we have to make up all sorts of things to impress others with our stunning knowledge of what God really meant. Especially when He doesn't say anything of the sort at all.
It's getting really hard to bite my tongue about things like this. I know that anything I say will be considered at least a silly frippery or at worst, rocking the boat - which is most definately Not To Be Done. Christians are too schooled in their beliefs - man-made beliefs - to actually try and search these things out for themselves. Oh, but of course we read and study our Bibles daily with great furvor.
It's as if we never came out of the Dark Ages. Yes, we all have our copies of the Bible now, but we're still being controlled by whichever sect we decide has the most "truth" instead of just the RCC. At least the RCC is honest in saying that the average layperson doesn't understand the Truths of God. The Reformation is such a crock of bullshit - we just traded one yoke for another.
I guess this is all about my journey, rather than about my frustrations over this. I suppose it's preparing me for something - goodness only knows what. Guess that'll be what's fun to find out in the end, right?
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Bathsheba
I have to give The Husband's dog away, and it's killing me.
His beautiful red Siberian Husky. The dog that replaced his beloved Oso, filling the empty dog-space inside his heart. And now she has to go.
You see, when you live on a farm and have livestock, there are certain hard and fast rules for the pets that are in your life. One of those rules that can never be broken is that if a dog or cat kills one of the livestock, it must be put down or given away. Immediately. Once they get that taste for blood, it never goes away. And you can't have a killer on the farm.
Sheba broke this cardinal rule. She scratched and clawed her way through the wire bottom of the bunny hutch to get at the three rabbits inside, pulled them out and killed them.
There was an incident earlier in the year with one of the newborn lambs. She tried to pull one out through the gate and punctured its leg with her teeth. But because she didn't kill it, we gave her a pass when perhaps we shouldn't have. But The Husband couldn't give up his dog, and I didn't want to have to make him. Besides, she's one of the best watchdogs we've ever had. Nothing gets by her.
Sheba had a hard life. Before she came to us nearly a year ago, she was found by some friends of ours on a long, winding stretch of road in the mountains. She was underweight, obviously foraging for herself, but ever so happy to see humans. It appeared that she was either abandoned or had jumped out of the back of somebody's truck and nobody had returned for her. And that struck our friends as odd since she was obviously a purebred and only a year or so old.
They took her home and made her part of their family. But because their property wasn't fenced in beyond a three-strand cowboy fence, Sheba easily escaped - and frequently. So they asked if we were interested in her because we are completely fenced in. I knew that The Husband would immediately fall in love with this dog, so I dragged him up to our friend's place to see her. And that's exactly what happened.
Sheba, like all Siberian Huskies, is a talker. But her talking is special. Instead of being high-pitched like most of her kin, instead she has a lower, more pleasing alto voice. Every time we come home, she lets us know that she is happy to see us, her humans, yet again.
The Husband taught her tricks - such as choosing which hand a treat is in, and setting a treat on her nose and making her wait to move so it can fall off and she could gobble it up. She is his truck dog, jumping into the open door, sitting in the back seat and hanging her head over his shoulder.
We all love plunging our hands into her plush coat and giving her a heavy rub-down, snuggling up to her. She knows when to lick at you, and when to back off, giving you just the right amount of space, especially for those of us who aren't dog people but who secretly love her anyway.
But now all that has come to an end, as she sits chained in one area of our yard. No longer can she prowl the yard, keeping it safe from intruders from the outside, or gambol in play with our other two dogs. The Husband can't bear to go over to her and pet her, because each time he does it breaks his heart and he comes away crying. Every time she talks to us it is as if there is a dagger in our heart. It's as if she knows that she is no longer a member of the family, that she is cut off and is no longer ours.
So please, whoever you are that answers my advertisement in the paper, please take care of our precious dog. We love her so much and only want her to be loved. If we didn't have to send her away, we wouldn't.
Maybe it would have been better if we had shot her where she stood when we discovered what had happened. Perhaps it would be better than this daily torment for both us and her. But in the end, we knew we couldn't end the life of our beloved dog, not when she has so much more that she can give. She just has to give it to someone else now.
We love you, Sheba. We will never forget you.
His beautiful red Siberian Husky. The dog that replaced his beloved Oso, filling the empty dog-space inside his heart. And now she has to go.
You see, when you live on a farm and have livestock, there are certain hard and fast rules for the pets that are in your life. One of those rules that can never be broken is that if a dog or cat kills one of the livestock, it must be put down or given away. Immediately. Once they get that taste for blood, it never goes away. And you can't have a killer on the farm.
Sheba broke this cardinal rule. She scratched and clawed her way through the wire bottom of the bunny hutch to get at the three rabbits inside, pulled them out and killed them.
There was an incident earlier in the year with one of the newborn lambs. She tried to pull one out through the gate and punctured its leg with her teeth. But because she didn't kill it, we gave her a pass when perhaps we shouldn't have. But The Husband couldn't give up his dog, and I didn't want to have to make him. Besides, she's one of the best watchdogs we've ever had. Nothing gets by her.
Sheba had a hard life. Before she came to us nearly a year ago, she was found by some friends of ours on a long, winding stretch of road in the mountains. She was underweight, obviously foraging for herself, but ever so happy to see humans. It appeared that she was either abandoned or had jumped out of the back of somebody's truck and nobody had returned for her. And that struck our friends as odd since she was obviously a purebred and only a year or so old.
They took her home and made her part of their family. But because their property wasn't fenced in beyond a three-strand cowboy fence, Sheba easily escaped - and frequently. So they asked if we were interested in her because we are completely fenced in. I knew that The Husband would immediately fall in love with this dog, so I dragged him up to our friend's place to see her. And that's exactly what happened.
Sheba, like all Siberian Huskies, is a talker. But her talking is special. Instead of being high-pitched like most of her kin, instead she has a lower, more pleasing alto voice. Every time we come home, she lets us know that she is happy to see us, her humans, yet again.
The Husband taught her tricks - such as choosing which hand a treat is in, and setting a treat on her nose and making her wait to move so it can fall off and she could gobble it up. She is his truck dog, jumping into the open door, sitting in the back seat and hanging her head over his shoulder.
We all love plunging our hands into her plush coat and giving her a heavy rub-down, snuggling up to her. She knows when to lick at you, and when to back off, giving you just the right amount of space, especially for those of us who aren't dog people but who secretly love her anyway.
But now all that has come to an end, as she sits chained in one area of our yard. No longer can she prowl the yard, keeping it safe from intruders from the outside, or gambol in play with our other two dogs. The Husband can't bear to go over to her and pet her, because each time he does it breaks his heart and he comes away crying. Every time she talks to us it is as if there is a dagger in our heart. It's as if she knows that she is no longer a member of the family, that she is cut off and is no longer ours.
So please, whoever you are that answers my advertisement in the paper, please take care of our precious dog. We love her so much and only want her to be loved. If we didn't have to send her away, we wouldn't.
Maybe it would have been better if we had shot her where she stood when we discovered what had happened. Perhaps it would be better than this daily torment for both us and her. But in the end, we knew we couldn't end the life of our beloved dog, not when she has so much more that she can give. She just has to give it to someone else now.
We love you, Sheba. We will never forget you.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Plateaus are Very Frustrating
So, it appears that there is a plateau in the weight loss in our home. Oh no, not for me, silly. For The Husband!
Yes, in an attempt to support me and my weight loss surgery, The Husband has taken to following my diet and cutting some things out of his normal eating patterns. Because let's face it, people. When you're a 180 pound, 5' 10" male, you have just let yourself go for crying out loud! What's wrong with you, you filthy pig? Let me roll my eyes delicately here. And bring the smelling salts, please.
I love the man, but my feelings for his obsession with this alternates between hilarity and downright pissed-offedness. While I applaud his wanting to eat more healthy, because it makes it easier on me when making choices about what to feed the family - i.e. cooking only one meal for all of us instead of two - the man in no way needs to cut every single carb out of his life. For one, he has a physically demanding job that means he NEEDS those carbs as well as protein in order to do the work. So if he takes a piece of bread to put his lunch meat and cheese on for lunch, it's not going to kill him. He's just going to burn it off in the next hour or so. But nooooo! That's white flour so he can't have it. Nuh-uh! It's poison, people! Poison!
The problem for me is that he sees things in such a black-and-white way. It either is or it isn't, and I'm a more lassiez-faire kind of girl when it comes to many things. Which is probably why we ended up getting married - just to frustrate the hell out of each other in this way.
Now, since he started this diet, he has succeeded in bringing his weight down to 167. And there he has sat for the last two weeks. This, of course, equals a plateau to him, and means he's not doing the right things to keep losing weight. Which means he ups his angst and frets about it verbally.
Darling, I hate to tell you, but it isn't a plateau until you haven't lost for like six weeks or so. And basically starving yourself to break this isn't going to work, just prolong it. Plus you're just going to keel over and die on me if you don't get some food in you now, sweetie! Please eat more than a bird today, okay?
Now, don't get me wrong. There are benefits to The Husband losing some weight. Bringing his weight down 13 pounds has meant that he has a more sculpted tush, trimmer thighs and more muscular calves. Which does up the salivation level for me. I mean, I have always adored these certain parts of him, and I never noticed them changing drastically - not like MINE have in the 135 pounds I'd gained since we met. I haven't noticed a big change in his biceps since they've always been muscular.
There's only one place on his body that hasn't really changed. And that would be the beer belly, however small it may be. Caused by - you guessed it - beer. And what is the ONE thing The Husband hasn't cut out of his diet? His beer.
Guess carbs aren't completely cut out of your life, are they, my dearest love? That white has turned just a shade grey, eh? You're still the best anyway, darlin'.
Yes, in an attempt to support me and my weight loss surgery, The Husband has taken to following my diet and cutting some things out of his normal eating patterns. Because let's face it, people. When you're a 180 pound, 5' 10" male, you have just let yourself go for crying out loud! What's wrong with you, you filthy pig? Let me roll my eyes delicately here. And bring the smelling salts, please.
I love the man, but my feelings for his obsession with this alternates between hilarity and downright pissed-offedness. While I applaud his wanting to eat more healthy, because it makes it easier on me when making choices about what to feed the family - i.e. cooking only one meal for all of us instead of two - the man in no way needs to cut every single carb out of his life. For one, he has a physically demanding job that means he NEEDS those carbs as well as protein in order to do the work. So if he takes a piece of bread to put his lunch meat and cheese on for lunch, it's not going to kill him. He's just going to burn it off in the next hour or so. But nooooo! That's white flour so he can't have it. Nuh-uh! It's poison, people! Poison!
The problem for me is that he sees things in such a black-and-white way. It either is or it isn't, and I'm a more lassiez-faire kind of girl when it comes to many things. Which is probably why we ended up getting married - just to frustrate the hell out of each other in this way.
Now, since he started this diet, he has succeeded in bringing his weight down to 167. And there he has sat for the last two weeks. This, of course, equals a plateau to him, and means he's not doing the right things to keep losing weight. Which means he ups his angst and frets about it verbally.
Darling, I hate to tell you, but it isn't a plateau until you haven't lost for like six weeks or so. And basically starving yourself to break this isn't going to work, just prolong it. Plus you're just going to keel over and die on me if you don't get some food in you now, sweetie! Please eat more than a bird today, okay?
Now, don't get me wrong. There are benefits to The Husband losing some weight. Bringing his weight down 13 pounds has meant that he has a more sculpted tush, trimmer thighs and more muscular calves. Which does up the salivation level for me. I mean, I have always adored these certain parts of him, and I never noticed them changing drastically - not like MINE have in the 135 pounds I'd gained since we met. I haven't noticed a big change in his biceps since they've always been muscular.
There's only one place on his body that hasn't really changed. And that would be the beer belly, however small it may be. Caused by - you guessed it - beer. And what is the ONE thing The Husband hasn't cut out of his diet? His beer.
Guess carbs aren't completely cut out of your life, are they, my dearest love? That white has turned just a shade grey, eh? You're still the best anyway, darlin'.
Monday, September 11, 2006
So, whaddya think?
Figured I've give the Blogger Beta a shot, and give the website a bit of a makeover, include a couple of pictures of my sheep, basically spruce the place up a bit, you know?
I suppose it'll do for now until I finish my own template. It just takes me a while because let's face it: I've only taken one HTML class in my life (let's not even talk about my BASIC class back in high school!) and my graphics aren't necessarily the best in the world at this point. However, with the new computer, I got a few photo manipulation tools that should allow me to do what I want and hopefully I'll get something I don't mind posting for the whole world to see.
I'm a bit disappointed in BB, though. I am no longer able to edit my links the way I want to (i.e. get them to launch a new window instead of redirecting this browser window) because of their little "widget" components. While it makes it easier for your average bear to move things around, it makes it hard when you want to do some of your own personalizing of things. Just one more way of the man trying to keep us down, right? Eh. I'll figure it out. In the next year or so.
And I apologize for those of you who will now be left out in the cold when commenting on my posts. Hopefully Blogger will soon fix this glitch that makes you log in as an anonymous person. Or else we'll have to just do something about this ourselves. Like stampede them or something like that. Yeah. That'll learn them!
EDIT: Okay, I had to change the template AGAIN. It wasn't allowing me to put on my WebRing link at the bottom without screwing it all up. Communists. Now let's see if I can actually put the site meter back on as well. Oof!
I suppose it'll do for now until I finish my own template. It just takes me a while because let's face it: I've only taken one HTML class in my life (let's not even talk about my BASIC class back in high school!) and my graphics aren't necessarily the best in the world at this point. However, with the new computer, I got a few photo manipulation tools that should allow me to do what I want and hopefully I'll get something I don't mind posting for the whole world to see.
I'm a bit disappointed in BB, though. I am no longer able to edit my links the way I want to (i.e. get them to launch a new window instead of redirecting this browser window) because of their little "widget" components. While it makes it easier for your average bear to move things around, it makes it hard when you want to do some of your own personalizing of things. Just one more way of the man trying to keep us down, right? Eh. I'll figure it out. In the next year or so.
And I apologize for those of you who will now be left out in the cold when commenting on my posts. Hopefully Blogger will soon fix this glitch that makes you log in as an anonymous person. Or else we'll have to just do something about this ourselves. Like stampede them or something like that. Yeah. That'll learn them!
EDIT: Okay, I had to change the template AGAIN. It wasn't allowing me to put on my WebRing link at the bottom without screwing it all up. Communists. Now let's see if I can actually put the site meter back on as well. Oof!
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Bunch of Savages in this Town!
Two short stories for your approval that demonstrate the mentality of people today.
Story the First:
The Husband found himself in Home Depot (as he seldom does because the sweet siren call of power tools is much too powerful to resist especially when there are things such as "credit cards" with "six months of no interest" at his disposal) looking to replace a bit set that he had lost/broken some pieces of. When he found the set on the shelf, upon closer examination, he realized that someone had stolen the biggest bit out of the package. Either that or it just came that way from the factory, missing a bit.
No big deal, right? You just get the package behind it to buy, and take the one with the missing bit to an employee for them to deal with.
Wrong.
Every. Single. Package. that was on that shelf had the same bit missing. About a dozen of them.
Some rat bastard had stolen every single bit in this particular size. Inconcieveable!
The employee that was brought over to see the damage was just as incredulous as The Husband.
Story the Second:
After church this morning, we decided to do some light grocery shopping to fill in the holes in our refrigerator so that we don't have to do much of it during the week. This makes for much a much happier husband and a much happier me in that we don't have to go running all over creation for that one ingredient that we forgot.
We did our shopping and managed to get our of there fairly quickly. However, we realized that we were supposed to purchase a grocery card for someone and had to turn back around and return to the store. Instead of all four of us going in, The Husband went in alone. When he came back out, boy did he have a story to tell.
A guy was attempting to check out in one of the relatively new self check-out lanes. Now, these lanes are a bit touchy, as you have to put your groceries all in this one small space after you scan them because it wants to assess the weight of things - I guess to make sure you're not stealing stuff? I don't know. But if you don't put the thing you just scanned in the area where the bags are, it gives you a bunch of problems, and insists that you put it in OR ELSE. Basically, it's only a good thing if you are purchasing say, less than 15 items, and all of them can be fit into two plastic grocery bags. Otherwise, you're better off being checked out normally.
This guy, however, was purchasing around 25 items. And was having a huge problem with the whole bagging procedure. Basically, he was working himself into a full-blown tantrum because he couldn't follow the voice instructions the machine was giving him. And, tempermental beast that it is, the machine wasn't cooperating with him either because let's face it, the machine is the one in charge here.
Two of the on-floor managers converged on the guy to help him out with the process, to try to smooth things out, but the guy was way too far gone in the short time that things had become FUBARed. He threw such a conniption fit that the managers refunded all his money and let him walk out with all his groceries. In addition, they gave him a twelve-pack of Pepsi as a "we're so sorry for the trouble, and we hope you'll come back again" prize. Another employee helped the guy out to the car with his groceries.
But getting free groceries and a free twelve-pack of soda apparently wasn't enough to soothe the temper this man had on him.
When he and the employee got to the car, he proceeded to scream at the employee about the self-check out and said something to the effect of, "And you can keep these for all I care!" Then he THREW the entire twelve-pack of soda at the employee. Luckily, he missed the employee, but the sodas hit the ground and several of them exploded spectacularly.
The Moral of the Stories:
Some people are assholes, and either take what they want or aren't gracious enough to accept sincere apologies and generosity. They suck.
Unfortunately, far too many people in this town are like Exhibit A and B. Bunch of savages in this town.
Story the First:
The Husband found himself in Home Depot (as he seldom does because the sweet siren call of power tools is much too powerful to resist especially when there are things such as "credit cards" with "six months of no interest" at his disposal) looking to replace a bit set that he had lost/broken some pieces of. When he found the set on the shelf, upon closer examination, he realized that someone had stolen the biggest bit out of the package. Either that or it just came that way from the factory, missing a bit.
No big deal, right? You just get the package behind it to buy, and take the one with the missing bit to an employee for them to deal with.
Wrong.
Every. Single. Package. that was on that shelf had the same bit missing. About a dozen of them.
Some rat bastard had stolen every single bit in this particular size. Inconcieveable!
The employee that was brought over to see the damage was just as incredulous as The Husband.
Story the Second:
After church this morning, we decided to do some light grocery shopping to fill in the holes in our refrigerator so that we don't have to do much of it during the week. This makes for much a much happier husband and a much happier me in that we don't have to go running all over creation for that one ingredient that we forgot.
We did our shopping and managed to get our of there fairly quickly. However, we realized that we were supposed to purchase a grocery card for someone and had to turn back around and return to the store. Instead of all four of us going in, The Husband went in alone. When he came back out, boy did he have a story to tell.
A guy was attempting to check out in one of the relatively new self check-out lanes. Now, these lanes are a bit touchy, as you have to put your groceries all in this one small space after you scan them because it wants to assess the weight of things - I guess to make sure you're not stealing stuff? I don't know. But if you don't put the thing you just scanned in the area where the bags are, it gives you a bunch of problems, and insists that you put it in OR ELSE. Basically, it's only a good thing if you are purchasing say, less than 15 items, and all of them can be fit into two plastic grocery bags. Otherwise, you're better off being checked out normally.
This guy, however, was purchasing around 25 items. And was having a huge problem with the whole bagging procedure. Basically, he was working himself into a full-blown tantrum because he couldn't follow the voice instructions the machine was giving him. And, tempermental beast that it is, the machine wasn't cooperating with him either because let's face it, the machine is the one in charge here.
Two of the on-floor managers converged on the guy to help him out with the process, to try to smooth things out, but the guy was way too far gone in the short time that things had become FUBARed. He threw such a conniption fit that the managers refunded all his money and let him walk out with all his groceries. In addition, they gave him a twelve-pack of Pepsi as a "we're so sorry for the trouble, and we hope you'll come back again" prize. Another employee helped the guy out to the car with his groceries.
But getting free groceries and a free twelve-pack of soda apparently wasn't enough to soothe the temper this man had on him.
When he and the employee got to the car, he proceeded to scream at the employee about the self-check out and said something to the effect of, "And you can keep these for all I care!" Then he THREW the entire twelve-pack of soda at the employee. Luckily, he missed the employee, but the sodas hit the ground and several of them exploded spectacularly.
The Moral of the Stories:
Some people are assholes, and either take what they want or aren't gracious enough to accept sincere apologies and generosity. They suck.
Unfortunately, far too many people in this town are like Exhibit A and B. Bunch of savages in this town.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Happy birthday to me!
Tomorrow is my birthday. And my body has decided to give me a present - 41 pounds lost since surgery! Whoo-hoo! I am so not going to complain about this. This means that I'm down to 274. I haven't been this size since Thing Two was about a year old. I just need to keep it up. And when the hell are the clothes sizes going to start going down? Aaagh! I'll take the poundage lost, though.
To celebrate, I don't think we are going to do anything special, and that's just fine by me. I have been "over" celebrating my birthdays for such a long time. Plus, I see absolutely no value in being one of those high maintenance adults that INSIST on having a party thrown for them every year. Oh, and should I mention that the party MUST be a surprise? Let me roll my eyes for dramatic effect here. :::roll::: Done. Oh wait. A little bit more. :::rooool::: Okay, there.
Yes, I know one of these little divas. Her birthday is what the center of the universe revolves around, and her poor henpecked husband hasn't been able to break through her selfish shell and make her understand that he just cannot do these things every. single. year. Especially since they are pinching pennies right now so hard I think that their fingers are stained with copper residue. I just honestly cannot understand this attitude. And she claims to be a good and loving Christian wife! Ha! One of the FIRST things about being a Christian that you learn is that, um, hello! You're not supposed to be selfish anymore - you put OTHERS before YOU.
Don't get me wrong, I'm no angel either on the selfish side of things, as The Husband can readily attest to. But this is an attitude that I just don't get and frankly makes me madder than hell. I do not get an understanding of the need to make everything about YOU. That's not what this life is about, period.
Anyway, both The Husband and I will be getting our bi-monthly massages tomorrow. This will be my first one since the surgery and I cannot wait for it. My back needs such a going over it's not funny. I've been holding off going to the chiropractor until I could get the massage because I'm just too tight to adjust right now. This is one of our few splurges, and since it makes both of us feel so much better, we scrimp in other areas so that we can continue to get them. Our therapist, Nicki, is ever so good and worth every single penny.
Just getting this massage will make my birthday one of the best in the world. Well, between that and getting to wake up next to The Husband and hugging my girls when they wake up in the morning.
So, in honor of my birthday, what makes your birthday special to you? Cards? A nice present from someone you love? Cake? Ice Cream? A party? Getting quiet time with a book? Let us all know, and then we can all throw an un-Birthday Party sometime and everybody will get something that they love and feel good about.
To celebrate, I don't think we are going to do anything special, and that's just fine by me. I have been "over" celebrating my birthdays for such a long time. Plus, I see absolutely no value in being one of those high maintenance adults that INSIST on having a party thrown for them every year. Oh, and should I mention that the party MUST be a surprise? Let me roll my eyes for dramatic effect here. :::roll::: Done. Oh wait. A little bit more. :::rooool::: Okay, there.
Yes, I know one of these little divas. Her birthday is what the center of the universe revolves around, and her poor henpecked husband hasn't been able to break through her selfish shell and make her understand that he just cannot do these things every. single. year. Especially since they are pinching pennies right now so hard I think that their fingers are stained with copper residue. I just honestly cannot understand this attitude. And she claims to be a good and loving Christian wife! Ha! One of the FIRST things about being a Christian that you learn is that, um, hello! You're not supposed to be selfish anymore - you put OTHERS before YOU.
Don't get me wrong, I'm no angel either on the selfish side of things, as The Husband can readily attest to. But this is an attitude that I just don't get and frankly makes me madder than hell. I do not get an understanding of the need to make everything about YOU. That's not what this life is about, period.
Anyway, both The Husband and I will be getting our bi-monthly massages tomorrow. This will be my first one since the surgery and I cannot wait for it. My back needs such a going over it's not funny. I've been holding off going to the chiropractor until I could get the massage because I'm just too tight to adjust right now. This is one of our few splurges, and since it makes both of us feel so much better, we scrimp in other areas so that we can continue to get them. Our therapist, Nicki, is ever so good and worth every single penny.
Just getting this massage will make my birthday one of the best in the world. Well, between that and getting to wake up next to The Husband and hugging my girls when they wake up in the morning.
So, in honor of my birthday, what makes your birthday special to you? Cards? A nice present from someone you love? Cake? Ice Cream? A party? Getting quiet time with a book? Let us all know, and then we can all throw an un-Birthday Party sometime and everybody will get something that they love and feel good about.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Sometimes, childhood comfort foods are the best
Since I had my DS, I have been telling myself that I'm going to make myself one of my favorite snack/lunch items, but I've never gotten around to doing it. Well, The Husband got sick and tired of me just saying it but never doing it, so on Monday he boiled up a dozen eggs for me just so that I can make myself some deviled eggs. This, ladies and germs, is true love, right here. A man boiling his wife eggs.
Seriously, though, I love deviled eggs. They are possibly my favorite comfort food, ever. As a child, I would boil up a dozen eggs, and then over the course of the next week or so would foray into the spice cabinet, seeking that perfect blend of spices that would make my eggs fantastic. A little bit of garlic powder, some onion powder, perhaps a little bit of oregano or thyme, hey, this meat tenderizer might work pretty well, how about some cumin? The recipie would vary every time I made the eggs up. I think the only thing that was constant was the garlic and onion powder. I probably tried every spice there was in my eggs. Sometimes the concoction wasn't that good - even vile. Sometimes it was astoundingly flavorful. But I was having fun with spices and that's all that mattered.
Now, I am a finicky girl, and don't like to eat other people's deviled eggs. And why would that be? Because they contaminate their eggs with either one of two things: mustard or pickle relish. Or, horror of horrors, they use BOTH! Gah! Oh, and too much paprika. Enough with the red stuff, people! It's supposed to be just a dash, not a pile of the stuff on top!
Every time I try someone else's deviled eggs, I have to go discretely rid myself of the mouthful of egg because I cannot stand mustard or pickle relish, and they always have at least one of these ingredients in there. Why? When did people decide that these two foul creations must go in deviled eggs? Ugh! All you need is a tiny spot of mayonnaise and some good spices and call it done, already!
Please note that I am very hypocritical about mustard. Mustard has it's uses. However, it may only be honey mustard, and it can only be used in certain recipies. Like The Husband's Little Smokies recipie or my mother-in-law's Honey Mustard Chicken. But people always use the nasty yellow mustard in their deviled eggs and that's just gag-a-rific to me. Blech!
Anyway, instead of my haphazard childhood search through the spice cabinet for the perfect blend of things, I now have a single spice mix that I use for deviled eggs. It's called Cajun Land Cajun Seasoning with Green Onion and it's made by this family in Louisiana in their home (well, it used to be - they've gotten bigger as word about their products has spread) and it is the best spice mix ever. Seriously. You can use it on chicken, you can use it on beef, it's epsecially tasty on pork. It goes in your potatoes, it goes on your scrambled eggs. My brother-in-law uses it instead of salt the stuff is so good.
In fact, everything this company makes is good. We love their pork seasoning, for instance, and their hot tamale kit is pretty damn good as well.
We stumbled upon this company via our friend Karl. We used to place orders in bulk with them because, well, because it's all so good and we didn't want to have to ring them back up every time we ran out of something. One time, Karl called the number for them (before their website was up) and got the granddaughter on the line. She said in her cute little girl voice that they didn't have any in stock at the moment but that her grandmother would be back soon with a new batch of spices and they would ship it off to us as soon as they got everything mixed up. We were completely enchanted. They've had loyal customers for the last 13 years in us.
They're in Metairie, so obviously they were affected by Hurricane Katrina. Their website is still up, so hopefully they are back up and running. Because we're about to run out of some of this spice, and our kitchen comes to a screeching halt if this stuff isn't around. Check them out. Their prices are excellent, and you get a quality product.
But the main point of this post is that in my deviled eggs, I have finally found a good way to up my protein count. The three that I have already consumed over the past three hours has me at a 22 gram level, and I've got one more staring at me, begging me to eat it. I may in about an hour or so, but we'll see. I think today might actually be the day that I break 80 grams of protein because of these eggs, and that will make me very happy. And because of the DS, 80% of the fat that's in the mayo that I used is just going to move on through, which makes me happy as well. They won't be an "every day" thing, but they'll be there to help boost me when that protein count is down.
Who knew that a childhood comfort food would be so good for me?
Seriously, though, I love deviled eggs. They are possibly my favorite comfort food, ever. As a child, I would boil up a dozen eggs, and then over the course of the next week or so would foray into the spice cabinet, seeking that perfect blend of spices that would make my eggs fantastic. A little bit of garlic powder, some onion powder, perhaps a little bit of oregano or thyme, hey, this meat tenderizer might work pretty well, how about some cumin? The recipie would vary every time I made the eggs up. I think the only thing that was constant was the garlic and onion powder. I probably tried every spice there was in my eggs. Sometimes the concoction wasn't that good - even vile. Sometimes it was astoundingly flavorful. But I was having fun with spices and that's all that mattered.
Now, I am a finicky girl, and don't like to eat other people's deviled eggs. And why would that be? Because they contaminate their eggs with either one of two things: mustard or pickle relish. Or, horror of horrors, they use BOTH! Gah! Oh, and too much paprika. Enough with the red stuff, people! It's supposed to be just a dash, not a pile of the stuff on top!
Every time I try someone else's deviled eggs, I have to go discretely rid myself of the mouthful of egg because I cannot stand mustard or pickle relish, and they always have at least one of these ingredients in there. Why? When did people decide that these two foul creations must go in deviled eggs? Ugh! All you need is a tiny spot of mayonnaise and some good spices and call it done, already!
Please note that I am very hypocritical about mustard. Mustard has it's uses. However, it may only be honey mustard, and it can only be used in certain recipies. Like The Husband's Little Smokies recipie or my mother-in-law's Honey Mustard Chicken. But people always use the nasty yellow mustard in their deviled eggs and that's just gag-a-rific to me. Blech!
Anyway, instead of my haphazard childhood search through the spice cabinet for the perfect blend of things, I now have a single spice mix that I use for deviled eggs. It's called Cajun Land Cajun Seasoning with Green Onion and it's made by this family in Louisiana in their home (well, it used to be - they've gotten bigger as word about their products has spread) and it is the best spice mix ever. Seriously. You can use it on chicken, you can use it on beef, it's epsecially tasty on pork. It goes in your potatoes, it goes on your scrambled eggs. My brother-in-law uses it instead of salt the stuff is so good.
In fact, everything this company makes is good. We love their pork seasoning, for instance, and their hot tamale kit is pretty damn good as well.
We stumbled upon this company via our friend Karl. We used to place orders in bulk with them because, well, because it's all so good and we didn't want to have to ring them back up every time we ran out of something. One time, Karl called the number for them (before their website was up) and got the granddaughter on the line. She said in her cute little girl voice that they didn't have any in stock at the moment but that her grandmother would be back soon with a new batch of spices and they would ship it off to us as soon as they got everything mixed up. We were completely enchanted. They've had loyal customers for the last 13 years in us.
They're in Metairie, so obviously they were affected by Hurricane Katrina. Their website is still up, so hopefully they are back up and running. Because we're about to run out of some of this spice, and our kitchen comes to a screeching halt if this stuff isn't around. Check them out. Their prices are excellent, and you get a quality product.
But the main point of this post is that in my deviled eggs, I have finally found a good way to up my protein count. The three that I have already consumed over the past three hours has me at a 22 gram level, and I've got one more staring at me, begging me to eat it. I may in about an hour or so, but we'll see. I think today might actually be the day that I break 80 grams of protein because of these eggs, and that will make me very happy. And because of the DS, 80% of the fat that's in the mayo that I used is just going to move on through, which makes me happy as well. They won't be an "every day" thing, but they'll be there to help boost me when that protein count is down.
Who knew that a childhood comfort food would be so good for me?
Monday, September 04, 2006
I always knew I was a bit off my rocker
But this kind of clinches it for me. Multi-dimensional wonderland? Yeah, if you consider "multi" to mean totally crazed and delusional. Hee!
| Your Brain's Pattern |
 Your mind is a multi dimensional wonderland, with many layers. You're the type that always has multiple streams of thought going. And you can keep these thoughts going at any time. You're very likely to be engaged in deep thought - and deep conversation. |
Friday, September 01, 2006
So. The food thing.
It appears that I have an anonymous person who has left a few comments to some of my posts that doesn't quite grasp my literary devices when speaking about 1) outrage and 2) food. Ahhh! The beauty of the Internet! Say anything you want, and nobody has to know who you are!
Yeah, I use a little bit of hyperbole on occasion - I didn't *actually* see "red" when I saw that DirecTV satellite, you know? But that's my personality, so that's the way I write.
But anyway, the real problem for them seems to be the food thing. After all, I *did* have bariatric surgery, so of course I am completely banned from anything good tasting ever again, because of course I'll just gain back all my weight after the honeymoon period when everybody loses weight is over because I'll just keep eating like a pig, right?
I'm not about to kid myself that all of the choices I make are going to wise all the time, but they *do* fit into the eating plan that my surgeon gave me to follow. The idea goes something like this: Push that protein, get in those vitamins, suck down the water. Then if you have room left, sure, have a tiny bite or two of something carb-ish or desert-ish.
For example, today, when I could actually plan out my food, I had yogurt supplemented with some protein powder, approximately 6 slices of turkey breast lunchmeat and 3 slices of provolone cheese (wrap the cheese around two slices of turkey) split into two different meals. For dinner tonight, I will have one or two pork ribs. Total water consumption throughout the day should equal about 80 ozs. This is a normal day, although the pork ribs are kind of a treat.
At the Magic Kingdom this weekend, I was not able to plan things out, so of course, my choices suffered. But the beauty of the DS is that it is forgiving when you make these slip-ups (unless they create bathroom issues, which doesn't seem to happen to me. Yet). Then again, I don't think that an inch or so of a churro, two small bites of peach cobbler and a sniff and a tiny nibble of chocolate spread out over four days qualifies as a major deviation from the eating plan I am going by.
But what about the rest of what I ate, you say? Well, here ya go:
Yeah, I use a little bit of hyperbole on occasion - I didn't *actually* see "red" when I saw that DirecTV satellite, you know? But that's my personality, so that's the way I write.
But anyway, the real problem for them seems to be the food thing. After all, I *did* have bariatric surgery, so of course I am completely banned from anything good tasting ever again, because of course I'll just gain back all my weight after the honeymoon period when everybody loses weight is over because I'll just keep eating like a pig, right?
I'm not about to kid myself that all of the choices I make are going to wise all the time, but they *do* fit into the eating plan that my surgeon gave me to follow. The idea goes something like this: Push that protein, get in those vitamins, suck down the water. Then if you have room left, sure, have a tiny bite or two of something carb-ish or desert-ish.
For example, today, when I could actually plan out my food, I had yogurt supplemented with some protein powder, approximately 6 slices of turkey breast lunchmeat and 3 slices of provolone cheese (wrap the cheese around two slices of turkey) split into two different meals. For dinner tonight, I will have one or two pork ribs. Total water consumption throughout the day should equal about 80 ozs. This is a normal day, although the pork ribs are kind of a treat.
At the Magic Kingdom this weekend, I was not able to plan things out, so of course, my choices suffered. But the beauty of the DS is that it is forgiving when you make these slip-ups (unless they create bathroom issues, which doesn't seem to happen to me. Yet). Then again, I don't think that an inch or so of a churro, two small bites of peach cobbler and a sniff and a tiny nibble of chocolate spread out over four days qualifies as a major deviation from the eating plan I am going by.
But what about the rest of what I ate, you say? Well, here ya go:
- Pizza. Delicious toppings it had. Goat cheese, pecorino cheese, mozarella and a few others I can't remember. Thick sliced pepperoni. Splendid! The crust? Honestly, I don't know. Didn't eat it. Ate too much cheese and pepperoni to fit any in. The Husband said it was damn good, though. He ate five pieces.
- Sandwiches. I didn't feel like dealing with possible gas issues, so I took off the bread and ate the lunchmeat and cheese inside. Very tasty.
- Corn dog. Way too thick of a breading, so that's gotta go. Don't want to eat that anyway. Looks like it will give me nasty gas. The dog inside was too spicy for me to eat more than a few nibbles. Scratch that lunch.
- Fish and Chips. Very good cod. Lightly breaded so I didn't need to tear any off. The chips? Well, not so good, which is why I chose the smallest ones on the plate to nibble on after I had my fill of cod.
- In-N-Out Burger. Seeing as how this chain is the best in quality if you're going to pick fast food, I have no heartache with this choice at all. I avoided the bun entirely, and only managed to eat between 1/2 to 2/3rds of the cheeseburger. No room for their fries, though, and I didn't mind their absence.
I know that other people feel very passionately about how you should eat after any type of bariatric surgery. And believe me, I understand and share many of their sentiments. Protein will always be my major focus whenever I eat from now on. Come to think of it, it was that way before surgery as well. I always prefered my meat before I prefered my potatoes - but then I usually went overboard when it came to dishing out my potatoes, and that is what got me in the place I was at before surgery.
Here's the bottom line. I didn't have surgery to punish myself. I've already done that and failed beyond my wildest dreams - but now I have a tool that can help me enjoy life and eating again (even though it's within limits) and still get down to a normal weight and maintain it. My surgeon has made darned sure to impress this mindset upon me whenever I have spoken with him.
I'm supposed to be able to learn how to make smart choices when ordering from the menu - because one reason why I chose the DS is to make sure that I can order from the menu. I don't care that it may look a bit wierd with me picking my toppings off my pizza with a fork, eating everything but the bread on a sandwich, completely ignoring whole sections of food of my plate, or making the waiter or waitress ask me if everything was okay with the food because I only ate about 10 percent of what was put in front of me. It's fine with me, because in the end I'm eating for me and my continued health, not someone else's.
Everyone makes their choices in this life. These are the ones I chose for me. It doesn't make me right, and it doesn't make me wrong. It's the choices that will shape me into who I want to be.
The Husband has begun teasing me that I'm a cheap date now because of the amount I eat. That's fine with me. I'd rather be his cheap date than someone else's expensive eating machine any day of the year.
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