Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Read this article. Now.
Yes, it's long and wordy, but it has a ton of common sense information about food and how screwed in the head we all are about it, why and what to do about it. It's located HERE. Good stuff, man. Good stuff.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Turkey-lurkey day!
Well, tomorrow it is.
But today, we're going to begin the long and arduous trek to the in-laws house in Nevada. How long and how arduous is this trek? Well, let's just say we're breaking it into two legs instead of shooting straight through this time. We'll leave at around 3 p.m. today and then stop in Bishop to spend the night. Total drive time? Two and a half hours. Yep. You read that right. Two and a half hours. The second leg of the trip that we'll do tomorrow? That'll be about three hours long. We're not really into over-extending ourselves this year.
Hey, man. I'm only along for the ride. 'Cause I'm just here for the food. Whatever schedule The Husband wants to have, I'm more than game. I'm on freakin vacation, people!
Seriously, though, I understand why he wants to do it this way. He has been beyond stressed with everything going on with his knees and the way things are going at work. He's tired of management, HR and his crew chief spazzing out over the whole "can't crawl on his knees" thing, tired of things being discussed behind his back about his position, tired of things being discussed with other people who are not in a need-to-know position (HIPAA violation, anyone? Anyone?), tired of the whole song and dance. And so he just wants to have some fun. So, we will.
Plus, this way we'll get to make a stop at Erik Schat's Bakkerei for some good sourdough bread and other goodies to share with the family throughout the weekend.
It will be a good Thanksgiving. It's a miracle that my father-in-law is still alive and that somehow the chemotherapy has worked beyond all our expectations. I'll get to meet some of my sister-in-law's family for the first time. And my father will be joining us again this year as well.
< .rant >
Speaking of my father. I think it's really, really NICE that a man with four grown children can really only call ONE of those children to see if he can spend the holiday with them. Because none of the others want to speak with him. For no real fucking reason (well, I'll give one sister a pass there but only because of the situation surrounding that). Thanks, guys. Thanks for showing the love. Thanks for breaking my heart having to hear my father - hell, OUR father! - essentially beg to spend Thanksgiving with family. Thanks a whole lot. I hope you think about him at some point in time this weekend. Because we're going to be having fun with him. Have fun with Mom instead, mmkay?
< / rant >
Sorry. Had to get that out there. It was really effecting me more than it should.
Now. Back to the food.
I already had a bit of practice in how to deal with the Thanksgiving spread at our company's annual Thanksgiving lunch. Turkey is going to fill me up rather quickly, while the ham is going to be much easier on me. I think I'll stick to munching on ham most of the day and save the turkey with gravy for the actual meal. A little bit of potato and a bite or two of dressing and I'll probably call it good. It's actually going to be really easy to get in all my protein, so that will be a huge plus. And if I'm not full (really big if there), then The Husband and I will probably share a piece of the cheesecake that I'm bringing.
Anyway, have good fun tomorrow with family and friends. Don't eat anything bigger than your head (yeah, right, like that's an option anymore! Hee!). And don't let the crazies on the road ruin your weekend. I'll be back next week!
But today, we're going to begin the long and arduous trek to the in-laws house in Nevada. How long and how arduous is this trek? Well, let's just say we're breaking it into two legs instead of shooting straight through this time. We'll leave at around 3 p.m. today and then stop in Bishop to spend the night. Total drive time? Two and a half hours. Yep. You read that right. Two and a half hours. The second leg of the trip that we'll do tomorrow? That'll be about three hours long. We're not really into over-extending ourselves this year.
Hey, man. I'm only along for the ride. 'Cause I'm just here for the food. Whatever schedule The Husband wants to have, I'm more than game. I'm on freakin vacation, people!
Seriously, though, I understand why he wants to do it this way. He has been beyond stressed with everything going on with his knees and the way things are going at work. He's tired of management, HR and his crew chief spazzing out over the whole "can't crawl on his knees" thing, tired of things being discussed behind his back about his position, tired of things being discussed with other people who are not in a need-to-know position (HIPAA violation, anyone? Anyone?), tired of the whole song and dance. And so he just wants to have some fun. So, we will.
Plus, this way we'll get to make a stop at Erik Schat's Bakkerei for some good sourdough bread and other goodies to share with the family throughout the weekend.
It will be a good Thanksgiving. It's a miracle that my father-in-law is still alive and that somehow the chemotherapy has worked beyond all our expectations. I'll get to meet some of my sister-in-law's family for the first time. And my father will be joining us again this year as well.
Speaking of my father. I think it's really, really NICE that a man with four grown children can really only call ONE of those children to see if he can spend the holiday with them. Because none of the others want to speak with him. For no real fucking reason (well, I'll give one sister a pass there but only because of the situation surrounding that). Thanks, guys. Thanks for showing the love. Thanks for breaking my heart having to hear my father - hell, OUR father! - essentially beg to spend Thanksgiving with family. Thanks a whole lot. I hope you think about him at some point in time this weekend. Because we're going to be having fun with him. Have fun with Mom instead, mmkay?
Sorry. Had to get that out there. It was really effecting me more than it should.
Now. Back to the food.
I already had a bit of practice in how to deal with the Thanksgiving spread at our company's annual Thanksgiving lunch. Turkey is going to fill me up rather quickly, while the ham is going to be much easier on me. I think I'll stick to munching on ham most of the day and save the turkey with gravy for the actual meal. A little bit of potato and a bite or two of dressing and I'll probably call it good. It's actually going to be really easy to get in all my protein, so that will be a huge plus. And if I'm not full (really big if there), then The Husband and I will probably share a piece of the cheesecake that I'm bringing.
Anyway, have good fun tomorrow with family and friends. Don't eat anything bigger than your head (yeah, right, like that's an option anymore! Hee!). And don't let the crazies on the road ruin your weekend. I'll be back next week!
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!
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?
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.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Mickey Mouse is dead. 'Cause I ate him for dinner.
I have lived in Southern California for pretty damn close to 36 years. Since birth, actually. In all that time, never have I EVER set foot into Disneyland, even though it is only two and a half hours from me if traffic is cooperating with you. (Read: Never in the last 15 years unless you have some kind of a magic carpet that will take you over gridlock.) And I was perfectly happy in this decision. As I've gotten older, it's almost been a badge of pride for me. I've NEVER been to Disneyland, bitches, and I'm never going to! Nyah! (insert childish act of sticking out tongue here)
Then I had a husband. And then children. All three of whom have been indoctrinated by the cult of Disney that you MUST absolutely go to Disneyland if you ever want to have fun at all.
And if you don't go to Disneyland, then you must be some kind of Communist or something.
(Being called a Communist by your children is quite possibly the most interesting thing I have ever experienced, by the way. They ran giggling from the room when I told them that they would have to sleep with the sheep for the rest of their lives for that remark. Their father put them up to it. Rat bastard! Maybe I should have told him that HE would have to sleep with the sheep. Harrumph!)
Since Thing Two managed to get straight A's last year in school (a feat *I* never accomplished in my entire life), she was promised that she would get to go to a theme park this summer. Initially, the list of parks she was given to choose from did not include the dreaded D-word. However, Thing One batted her little eyelashes and suckered daddy into accidentally letting the D-word slip, and my fate was sealed from that moment. Disneyland it was.
Initially, I disavowed any part of this trek. It was going to be a one-day excursion, and The Husband was going to take one for the team and take the two girls and go. Plus, I pulled the "I'm still recovering from surgery" card (insert Scarlett O'Hara fainting act here) and whined about needing a nap halfway through the day still (no lie) and that I "Just couldn't make it." I've never been more of a drama queen in my life, people. No way in hell were you taking me to this place. Nope. Not going there. Ever.
Then The Husband got the bright idea to make this a vacation instead of a day-trip. He didn't want to deal with getting up at o'dark-thirty in the morning, driving down to Anaheim, going all day long, and then driving all the way back. So he wanted to get a hotel. And if he got a hotel, then OF COURSE I had no excuse not to go because naptime? Can be accomplished when you have a hotel room. And then he sweetened the pot by saying that he would get me some spa treatments if I tagged along. I didn't even have to go into the park if I didn't want to. Grrrrrr. Fine. I'll go. I'm NOT going into Disneyland, but I'll go with you. I needed some pampering anyway. My feet are terrible! Hmph!
So The Husband calls Disney and sets up our reservation at Disney's Grand California Hotel and Spa. He got two-day hopper passes for the three of them so that they could visit both Disneyland and Disney's California Adventure. I was set up for a mani and pedi at the hotel's spa, and life was grand. Until we got that letter in the mail the day we were going to leave.
After several hours of calls to and from Disney, a new package for our entertainment was created. In order to apologize for their screwup, we were upgraded to the concierge package with the suite, a free meal at Ariel's Grotto with the Disney Princesses (score for my girls!) and they threw in park hopper tickets for me as well. Hrm. We'll see about that. With my spa treatments, I really won't be able to get into the park(s) much at all, so maybe I'll still miss out. It's all good.
On the drive down there (Four and a half freaking hours because of gridlock. SO glad I don't live down there!) The Husband starts getting the wacky idea that maybe we should stay a bit longer. It was going to be our last thing for the summer, and he wanted to make things less rushed. As it stood, we were only booked for two nights, which meant that either they would have to hit one of the parks when they got there for only part of the day and then spend the next day at the other park. He wanted two full days to go to the parks. Fine. It's only money, right? Plus we were going to get there too late to fully enjoy the tickets that night. And one more way for me to avoid actually entering Disneyland, right?
We FINALLY get there, somehow manage to get mostly lost getting to the freaking hotel (Better signs would help, Disney! Gah! And Husband? How in the HELL do you expect me to know my way around someplace when I have NEVER BEEN THERE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!?!?), and eventually check in. Let me say that the Grand Californian is one of the most beautiful resort hotels I have been in to date - and we like going to nice and beautiful hotels. The arts and crafts style that they used while kind of out of place in a hotel of this magnitude, was very lovely. There definitely was no expense spared in getting the look they wanted. And it shows on each and every hotel bill. Ooof! We get to the room, and again, very lovely and spacious. Not quite as spacious as our suite that we scored at the JW Marriott in Las Vegas with our Marriott points, but very, very nice indeed.
As a part of the concierge package, we get free access to their "club." This club basically provides snackage for you all. Day. Long. In the morning, continental breakfast along with cold cereal. Late morning to early afternoon, tea sandwiches and pastries. Late afternoon to early evening, PB&J sandwiches and a hot hors d'ouvre. Evening, milk and cookies along with bedtime stories/songs for the kiddies. And then at 9:25, you could watch the Disneyland fireworks from the club balcony with the music they play in the park piped in. If you were so inclined, you wouldn't have to eat anywhere else your entire stay. They provide chilled bottled water and the little small bottles of soda (all Coca-Cola products, of course!) for you to have at any time. During the late afternoon you could get beer, and in the evening you could get liquors like Kahlua, Baileys and Grand Margniere. This? Was some serious score-age, people. Well worth being "inconvenienced" by having our trip weekend changed because of their screw-up. They can inconvenience me anytime they want to!
We get settled into our room, get the girls in their jammies and head on out for milk and cookies for them. All before dinner, of course. We're just terrible parents, ya know? The girls have a great time with the stories, and stuff themselves silly on cookies. Mom and dad are relaxing, and I can feel just a little bit of the Disney spirit penetrating the hard shell I have around my heart. Not too much, you understand - just a little. But because this is so nice, I'm not really caring at the moment. I'll go back to being a hard-ass in the morning.
We go back to our rooms and order room service for dinner. We ended up ordering one appetizer and two entrees to split between the four of us. Needless to say with my limited stomach capacity and the girls' already semi-full tummies of cookies, there was a lot of food left over. Mostly french fries, but who cares. We're on vacation!
Then turn-down service comes. Oooh. I like turn-down service. Chocolate! And along with the turn-down of the bed comes this piece of paper that tells you the various activities going on in the hotel the next day that don't have to do with the theme parks at all. Oh look at this! A Build-a-Bear workshop for the kids! Sounds fun! So, we sign the girls up. The Husband is going to have to take them to it because it interferes with my spa stuff. He's a little bit apprehensive about this - it's a mommy thing to him - but agrees to go instead.
The next morning, after a nice breakfast at the club (Raisin Bran with two Splenda and a dash of milk for me - not a perfect breakfast, but one that at least ensures that I get some fiber that's been missing in my diet), we head to Downtown Disney (DD) where the Build-a-Bear workshop will be. I leave before they go in, and head to my spa treatments. After the workshop, the three of them will head onto Disneyland. We'll meet up by phone later on. Good plan! I get to avoid Disneyland. Yay!
So, after a couple of hours of spa treatments, a trip back to the club for the little sandwiches and more water, a quick trip to Sephora in DD and a nap (spa treatments and eating tire you out, don't you know?), The Husband and I decide that we'll have an early dinner at Naples Pizza in DD. Awesome. Cheese and pepperoni for me!
At dinner, The Husband surprises me with my own set of - come on, you can guess what it is, I think - Mouse Ears. With my name embroidered on the back. :::sigh::: Fucking Disneyland. Mouse Ears. That's almost as bad as going into Disneyland, ya know? At least he had the sensibility to get me the ones that are decorated like a pirate with a fake golden earring through the left ear. 'Cause it can't be through the right ear - that would make you a faggot and Disneyland can't be associated with those kind of people, now can they? (A bundle of twigs? How can a person be a bundle of twigs? I never understood that slur as a child.)
Being the good sport that I am (Wouldn't you be after spa treatments, a makeup shopping trip and a nap? Plus good pizza?) I put the ears on. This leads into the most perfect setup I've ever seen dished out on me in my life.
"Well, now that you're a proper pirate mouse, you have to go on Pirates of the Carribean. You can't be a pirate mouse if you haven't gone on Pirates."
Damn. He got me but good. And in front of the children. :::sigh::: Fine. I'll go. But only on Pirates. Take me ANYWHERE near It's A Small World and I will spontaneously combust. I promise. It won't be pretty.
I feel like I am being led to my doom as we approach the park. Even at 5:30 p.m., people are still streaming into the place. It's unreal. How can they stand being in such a crush of humanity? We get inside, and start making our way to Main Street. Along the way, we stop and the girls and I get our pictures taken with Cruella DeVille. No Goofy or Mickey or Minnie for me, please - I refuse to sell my soul to Disney completely. Just the most slatternly evil character Disney has ever created. The only one that would have been better is Malificent, and I don't think they "do" that character at the park. Hopefully I'm wrong, because she is just so cool.
We journey into the French Quarter and are able to quickly make our way through the line of Pirates. But OMG, people. The sheer amount of STROLLERS in this park is enough to make you vomit. At least one third of the people in this park are being rolled around in strollers. This I think, more than anything else, is really why I have never, ever wanted to set foot in Disneyland. Why on earth to people think that it is a Very Good Thing to bring children under the age of reasonability (i.e. between 5 and 6) to a theme park? Why? You know that they are going to have a meltdown because they're tired/hungry/cranky/hot at least once in the day, and you are going to be made miserable because of that. You are going to make people around you miserable. Why would anyone want to do this to themselves?
If anyone thinks that I'm anti-small children in public places, think again. It's just that I remember acutely the mortification I felt every time my children had a meltdown in public at that age. I couldn't get them out of places fast enough. It's not the child's fault (most of the time, unless they're being little pricks, which children can be if they are allowed to get away with it) that they're melting down. They're being put in a situation (strange place, too much stimulation, no place familiar to nap, ginormous scary rodents to take your picture with) where they are guaranteed to blow up. It's like bringing a ticking time bomb into a park. And they will never remember the experience!
So people. For the love of humanity. Wait to bring your children to a theme park when they can enjoy it and so that you can actually enjoy it with them as well. It makes it so much more fun when they can truly appreciate what's going on. Your toddler honestly does not care that he/she is at Disneyland. Plus, when they're older, they can ride all the rides and not feel left out when brother or sister can go but *I* can't! Which prevents meltdowns as well.
After Pirates, we hop on the train that goes around the park so that I can at see the rest of the place before we high-tail it out of there in time to make it back for milk, cookies and storytime again. (Hey, we were given this perk. We're going to beat it until it falls down dead!) So aside from Pirates and the train, I figure that I truly haven't been "contaminated" by Disney. Yeah, I set foot in the place. But I was only there for an hour or so and that just doesn't count, now does it?
This night, we attempted to watch the fireworks show on the balcony, but it was abruptly cut short because of the way the wind was keeping the smoke in the wrong place. They said that if it blew over the freeway it had a bad habit of causing accidents so they stop before it reaches that point.
We stopped at the concierge desk just outside the club to try and plan out the next day at California Adventure. While there, we were let in on a little known secret of how to get into the park early and be able to have a private ride (no more than 15 people) on Soarin' Over California before anybody else is allowed in the park. Sweeeeet!
The next morning, we get to the secret meeting place early, and mark our territory and wait until the Disney cast member comes to collect us. We were joined only by another couple, so we entertained ourselves with some good chit-chat and watched all the other sheeple who weren't privvy to the secret get frustrated because California Adventure wasn't open yet. (Disneyland opens much earlier than California Adventure and opens even earlier for guests of the hotel. People seemed to think that that meant that California Adventure opened at the same time as well. It doesn't. Read your handouts from turndown service, people! Sheesh!) Eventually our cast member came and collected us and we were escorted into the park. Down the path and through the hangar doors we went, and we were in Soarin' Over California.
People, this ride is the BOMB. Very, very cool. It really does feel like you're in a glider going over these places. They did an excellent job on this. And we got the best seats! Whooo!
The rest of the day was just as good. We walked and walked and walked and walked. Used the fast-pass system like pros and managed to never wait in line for a ride longer than 10-15 minutes. I went on every ride that I wanted - including the big roller coaster. I did stay away from the very jerky rides, however. I wasn't up to testing my insides that much. We also went to the Aladdin stage show that they put on, and it was really, really good. The genie had updated lines (He bagged on Tom Cruise's lunacy - i.e. couch jumping, etc - at least two or three times for example) and was just as manic as Robin Williams was with the part.
Food wise, let's just say that protein didn't pass my lips very often. There was the corn dog, but I could barely eat the dog because it was way too spicy. Only get the hot link corn dog if you like searing your mouth with pepper. Go with the regular dog otherwise. The churros at the park were glorious. I'd take a small bite, let it melt going down, the girls would gobble up about half of the rest, I'd take a bite, and the girls would eat the rest of it. I had a bit of a hard time with the water because there is no such thing as a cup of ice in the park. So we kept buying the bottled water and I would drink until it got too warm for me even though it was still cold, and the girls or The Husband would finish it off.
Throughout the day, The Husband kept asking me if I needed to go back and take a nap. But I was feeling so good, I really didn't need one. However, by the time 4:30 rolled around, we were all pretty tired, so we decided to head back to the room for a quick nap before going back into California Adventure for our free dinner. When my head hit the pillow, the exhaustion just hit me like a ton of bricks and I was out like a light.
The Husband woke me up at 6 to get ready for dinner and I was like a walking dead man. As we made our way to the restauraunt, he kept looking at me and making sure that I was up to this. Hellfire, man! I need dinner! Foood! Feeeeeed meeeeee!
While we were waiting for dinner, we made the mistake of wandering over to one of the gift shops that are everywhere in these parks. In that shop they had a selection of the Disney Trading Pins as well as some of their starter pin sets. I don't know what came over me, but for some reason I decided that I Needed To Do This. *I* needed to trade pins with the hapless cast members that can't say no when I want one of their pins. All I can say is that Mickey Mouse stole my soul by breaking my vow and setting foot into Disneyland, and this was the result of my bringing this curse upon myself: Trading Pins. :::shudder:::
Unfortunately, this started a chain reaction with the girls wanting their own pin lanyards just like mommy and The Husband wanting to buy pins for his ladies. By the time we walked out of there, I had my own pin lanyard with it's four stock pins, plus about 7 other pins that The Husband had gotten for me. The girls had comparable ones as well. I don't even want to know how much this cost because it would probably make me throw up.
At dinner, The Husband and I should have just ordered one meal for the both of us, especially since we ordered the same thing - the fish and chips. It was the only thing that could have remotely been good for me in any way shape or form, and I only managed to eat one piece of fish and maybe two or three french fries. I also had a few spoonfulls of the chicken soup (way too salty) they brought for appetizer and two small spoonfulls of the peach cobbler (way too tasty for my good health) for dessert.
In the middle of eating, they announced that the Princesses were making their appearances for photos and autographs, and all the little girls went crazy. One by one they made their way around the room, stopping at all the tables, smiling their fake little Disney smiles and posing with those stupid little jazz hands that they do. Very sweet and cute for the girls, but OMG I just wanted it to end. Snow White, Belle, Jasmine, Mulan and Ariel all made appearances. I ended up taking a picture of The Husband with Belle just so that we can send it to his older brother. Apparently when Beauty and the Beast came out on tape the two of them watched it with their sister's kids and my brother-in-law whispered to The Husband and that he would "like one of those" referring to Belle. So, hah! Take that, older brother! Heee!
By the time everything was finished at the restaurant, it was getting close to storytime. As exhausted as I was, there was no way I could run back to the hotel, so I took all the stuff we had with us and told The Husband and the girls to make a dash for it, and that I would catch up with them. They apparently made it *just* in time and I managed to make it about halfway through. We stayed again for the fireworks, and this time we got to see the whole show. It was very good. The things they can do with fireworks nowadays is just amazing.
We get back to the room, and the girls are bouncing off the walls with energy still. I am so beat it's not even funny. The Husband makes an off-hand comment about going back into Disneyland and the girls JUMP all over it. He gives me the "Uh-oh!" look, but he did it to himself. Sorry, honey! So off they trudge again into the park. It's about 10:30 at night.
At approximately 1 in the morning, the three make it back to our room. The girls are decked out in Princess costumes - Thing One has chosen Aurora's pink dress (not the blue one!) and Thing Two is in Belle's yellow ballgown. Well, guess you guys have picked out your Halloween costumes, right? The Husband gives me a sheepish look and mumbles something about the Satanic music playing and about how he just wanted to make things special for them. All I can do is smile. This is further proof that Mickey Mouse has stolen my soul, Internet.
We all collapse into the sleep of the dead and don't wake up until about 9 the next morning. As we collect ourselves and our now greatly multiplied belongings (where did all this crap come from?) The Husband and I casually talk about the experience and how much we really liked it. We even started talking about coming back next year and doing it again. (Again, my soul is gone! Lost forever in the Disney abyss! :::sob:::)
The trip home only took two and a half hours including a stop at In-N-Out (one cheeseburger with no bun, please!). I was very relieved because if it had been any longer I think I would have had a conniption fit in the middle of gridlock on HWY 5. Now that I was finally out of the fiendish grip of Disney-mania, I felt my head clear. The fog (smog?) surrounding me lifted, and I no longer felt contaminated by the curse of Mickey and that all would be right in the world again. I was saved, and never again would I risk my soul for that little rodent again.
On Monday and back at work, I'm busily typing away when my phone rings. I give my standard hello and who praytell is on the other end of the line? None other than The Husband's Crew Chief, doing his Mickey Mouse imitation.
I hung up on him.
Then I had a husband. And then children. All three of whom have been indoctrinated by the cult of Disney that you MUST absolutely go to Disneyland if you ever want to have fun at all.
And if you don't go to Disneyland, then you must be some kind of Communist or something.
(Being called a Communist by your children is quite possibly the most interesting thing I have ever experienced, by the way. They ran giggling from the room when I told them that they would have to sleep with the sheep for the rest of their lives for that remark. Their father put them up to it. Rat bastard! Maybe I should have told him that HE would have to sleep with the sheep. Harrumph!)
Since Thing Two managed to get straight A's last year in school (a feat *I* never accomplished in my entire life), she was promised that she would get to go to a theme park this summer. Initially, the list of parks she was given to choose from did not include the dreaded D-word. However, Thing One batted her little eyelashes and suckered daddy into accidentally letting the D-word slip, and my fate was sealed from that moment. Disneyland it was.
Initially, I disavowed any part of this trek. It was going to be a one-day excursion, and The Husband was going to take one for the team and take the two girls and go. Plus, I pulled the "I'm still recovering from surgery" card (insert Scarlett O'Hara fainting act here) and whined about needing a nap halfway through the day still (no lie) and that I "Just couldn't make it." I've never been more of a drama queen in my life, people. No way in hell were you taking me to this place. Nope. Not going there. Ever.
Then The Husband got the bright idea to make this a vacation instead of a day-trip. He didn't want to deal with getting up at o'dark-thirty in the morning, driving down to Anaheim, going all day long, and then driving all the way back. So he wanted to get a hotel. And if he got a hotel, then OF COURSE I had no excuse not to go because naptime? Can be accomplished when you have a hotel room. And then he sweetened the pot by saying that he would get me some spa treatments if I tagged along. I didn't even have to go into the park if I didn't want to. Grrrrrr. Fine. I'll go. I'm NOT going into Disneyland, but I'll go with you. I needed some pampering anyway. My feet are terrible! Hmph!
So The Husband calls Disney and sets up our reservation at Disney's Grand California Hotel and Spa. He got two-day hopper passes for the three of them so that they could visit both Disneyland and Disney's California Adventure. I was set up for a mani and pedi at the hotel's spa, and life was grand. Until we got that letter in the mail the day we were going to leave.
After several hours of calls to and from Disney, a new package for our entertainment was created. In order to apologize for their screwup, we were upgraded to the concierge package with the suite, a free meal at Ariel's Grotto with the Disney Princesses (score for my girls!) and they threw in park hopper tickets for me as well. Hrm. We'll see about that. With my spa treatments, I really won't be able to get into the park(s) much at all, so maybe I'll still miss out. It's all good.
On the drive down there (Four and a half freaking hours because of gridlock. SO glad I don't live down there!) The Husband starts getting the wacky idea that maybe we should stay a bit longer. It was going to be our last thing for the summer, and he wanted to make things less rushed. As it stood, we were only booked for two nights, which meant that either they would have to hit one of the parks when they got there for only part of the day and then spend the next day at the other park. He wanted two full days to go to the parks. Fine. It's only money, right? Plus we were going to get there too late to fully enjoy the tickets that night. And one more way for me to avoid actually entering Disneyland, right?
We FINALLY get there, somehow manage to get mostly lost getting to the freaking hotel (Better signs would help, Disney! Gah! And Husband? How in the HELL do you expect me to know my way around someplace when I have NEVER BEEN THERE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!?!?), and eventually check in. Let me say that the Grand Californian is one of the most beautiful resort hotels I have been in to date - and we like going to nice and beautiful hotels. The arts and crafts style that they used while kind of out of place in a hotel of this magnitude, was very lovely. There definitely was no expense spared in getting the look they wanted. And it shows on each and every hotel bill. Ooof! We get to the room, and again, very lovely and spacious. Not quite as spacious as our suite that we scored at the JW Marriott in Las Vegas with our Marriott points, but very, very nice indeed.
As a part of the concierge package, we get free access to their "club." This club basically provides snackage for you all. Day. Long. In the morning, continental breakfast along with cold cereal. Late morning to early afternoon, tea sandwiches and pastries. Late afternoon to early evening, PB&J sandwiches and a hot hors d'ouvre. Evening, milk and cookies along with bedtime stories/songs for the kiddies. And then at 9:25, you could watch the Disneyland fireworks from the club balcony with the music they play in the park piped in. If you were so inclined, you wouldn't have to eat anywhere else your entire stay. They provide chilled bottled water and the little small bottles of soda (all Coca-Cola products, of course!) for you to have at any time. During the late afternoon you could get beer, and in the evening you could get liquors like Kahlua, Baileys and Grand Margniere. This? Was some serious score-age, people. Well worth being "inconvenienced" by having our trip weekend changed because of their screw-up. They can inconvenience me anytime they want to!
We get settled into our room, get the girls in their jammies and head on out for milk and cookies for them. All before dinner, of course. We're just terrible parents, ya know? The girls have a great time with the stories, and stuff themselves silly on cookies. Mom and dad are relaxing, and I can feel just a little bit of the Disney spirit penetrating the hard shell I have around my heart. Not too much, you understand - just a little. But because this is so nice, I'm not really caring at the moment. I'll go back to being a hard-ass in the morning.
We go back to our rooms and order room service for dinner. We ended up ordering one appetizer and two entrees to split between the four of us. Needless to say with my limited stomach capacity and the girls' already semi-full tummies of cookies, there was a lot of food left over. Mostly french fries, but who cares. We're on vacation!
Then turn-down service comes. Oooh. I like turn-down service. Chocolate! And along with the turn-down of the bed comes this piece of paper that tells you the various activities going on in the hotel the next day that don't have to do with the theme parks at all. Oh look at this! A Build-a-Bear workshop for the kids! Sounds fun! So, we sign the girls up. The Husband is going to have to take them to it because it interferes with my spa stuff. He's a little bit apprehensive about this - it's a mommy thing to him - but agrees to go instead.
The next morning, after a nice breakfast at the club (Raisin Bran with two Splenda and a dash of milk for me - not a perfect breakfast, but one that at least ensures that I get some fiber that's been missing in my diet), we head to Downtown Disney (DD) where the Build-a-Bear workshop will be. I leave before they go in, and head to my spa treatments. After the workshop, the three of them will head onto Disneyland. We'll meet up by phone later on. Good plan! I get to avoid Disneyland. Yay!
So, after a couple of hours of spa treatments, a trip back to the club for the little sandwiches and more water, a quick trip to Sephora in DD and a nap (spa treatments and eating tire you out, don't you know?), The Husband and I decide that we'll have an early dinner at Naples Pizza in DD. Awesome. Cheese and pepperoni for me!
At dinner, The Husband surprises me with my own set of - come on, you can guess what it is, I think - Mouse Ears. With my name embroidered on the back. :::sigh::: Fucking Disneyland. Mouse Ears. That's almost as bad as going into Disneyland, ya know? At least he had the sensibility to get me the ones that are decorated like a pirate with a fake golden earring through the left ear. 'Cause it can't be through the right ear - that would make you a faggot and Disneyland can't be associated with those kind of people, now can they? (A bundle of twigs? How can a person be a bundle of twigs? I never understood that slur as a child.)
Being the good sport that I am (Wouldn't you be after spa treatments, a makeup shopping trip and a nap? Plus good pizza?) I put the ears on. This leads into the most perfect setup I've ever seen dished out on me in my life.
"Well, now that you're a proper pirate mouse, you have to go on Pirates of the Carribean. You can't be a pirate mouse if you haven't gone on Pirates."
Damn. He got me but good. And in front of the children. :::sigh::: Fine. I'll go. But only on Pirates. Take me ANYWHERE near It's A Small World and I will spontaneously combust. I promise. It won't be pretty.
I feel like I am being led to my doom as we approach the park. Even at 5:30 p.m., people are still streaming into the place. It's unreal. How can they stand being in such a crush of humanity? We get inside, and start making our way to Main Street. Along the way, we stop and the girls and I get our pictures taken with Cruella DeVille. No Goofy or Mickey or Minnie for me, please - I refuse to sell my soul to Disney completely. Just the most slatternly evil character Disney has ever created. The only one that would have been better is Malificent, and I don't think they "do" that character at the park. Hopefully I'm wrong, because she is just so cool.
We journey into the French Quarter and are able to quickly make our way through the line of Pirates. But OMG, people. The sheer amount of STROLLERS in this park is enough to make you vomit. At least one third of the people in this park are being rolled around in strollers. This I think, more than anything else, is really why I have never, ever wanted to set foot in Disneyland. Why on earth to people think that it is a Very Good Thing to bring children under the age of reasonability (i.e. between 5 and 6) to a theme park? Why? You know that they are going to have a meltdown because they're tired/hungry/cranky/hot at least once in the day, and you are going to be made miserable because of that. You are going to make people around you miserable. Why would anyone want to do this to themselves?
If anyone thinks that I'm anti-small children in public places, think again. It's just that I remember acutely the mortification I felt every time my children had a meltdown in public at that age. I couldn't get them out of places fast enough. It's not the child's fault (most of the time, unless they're being little pricks, which children can be if they are allowed to get away with it) that they're melting down. They're being put in a situation (strange place, too much stimulation, no place familiar to nap, ginormous scary rodents to take your picture with) where they are guaranteed to blow up. It's like bringing a ticking time bomb into a park. And they will never remember the experience!
So people. For the love of humanity. Wait to bring your children to a theme park when they can enjoy it and so that you can actually enjoy it with them as well. It makes it so much more fun when they can truly appreciate what's going on. Your toddler honestly does not care that he/she is at Disneyland. Plus, when they're older, they can ride all the rides and not feel left out when brother or sister can go but *I* can't! Which prevents meltdowns as well.
After Pirates, we hop on the train that goes around the park so that I can at see the rest of the place before we high-tail it out of there in time to make it back for milk, cookies and storytime again. (Hey, we were given this perk. We're going to beat it until it falls down dead!) So aside from Pirates and the train, I figure that I truly haven't been "contaminated" by Disney. Yeah, I set foot in the place. But I was only there for an hour or so and that just doesn't count, now does it?
This night, we attempted to watch the fireworks show on the balcony, but it was abruptly cut short because of the way the wind was keeping the smoke in the wrong place. They said that if it blew over the freeway it had a bad habit of causing accidents so they stop before it reaches that point.
We stopped at the concierge desk just outside the club to try and plan out the next day at California Adventure. While there, we were let in on a little known secret of how to get into the park early and be able to have a private ride (no more than 15 people) on Soarin' Over California before anybody else is allowed in the park. Sweeeeet!
The next morning, we get to the secret meeting place early, and mark our territory and wait until the Disney cast member comes to collect us. We were joined only by another couple, so we entertained ourselves with some good chit-chat and watched all the other sheeple who weren't privvy to the secret get frustrated because California Adventure wasn't open yet. (Disneyland opens much earlier than California Adventure and opens even earlier for guests of the hotel. People seemed to think that that meant that California Adventure opened at the same time as well. It doesn't. Read your handouts from turndown service, people! Sheesh!) Eventually our cast member came and collected us and we were escorted into the park. Down the path and through the hangar doors we went, and we were in Soarin' Over California.
People, this ride is the BOMB. Very, very cool. It really does feel like you're in a glider going over these places. They did an excellent job on this. And we got the best seats! Whooo!
The rest of the day was just as good. We walked and walked and walked and walked. Used the fast-pass system like pros and managed to never wait in line for a ride longer than 10-15 minutes. I went on every ride that I wanted - including the big roller coaster. I did stay away from the very jerky rides, however. I wasn't up to testing my insides that much. We also went to the Aladdin stage show that they put on, and it was really, really good. The genie had updated lines (He bagged on Tom Cruise's lunacy - i.e. couch jumping, etc - at least two or three times for example) and was just as manic as Robin Williams was with the part.
Food wise, let's just say that protein didn't pass my lips very often. There was the corn dog, but I could barely eat the dog because it was way too spicy. Only get the hot link corn dog if you like searing your mouth with pepper. Go with the regular dog otherwise. The churros at the park were glorious. I'd take a small bite, let it melt going down, the girls would gobble up about half of the rest, I'd take a bite, and the girls would eat the rest of it. I had a bit of a hard time with the water because there is no such thing as a cup of ice in the park. So we kept buying the bottled water and I would drink until it got too warm for me even though it was still cold, and the girls or The Husband would finish it off.
Throughout the day, The Husband kept asking me if I needed to go back and take a nap. But I was feeling so good, I really didn't need one. However, by the time 4:30 rolled around, we were all pretty tired, so we decided to head back to the room for a quick nap before going back into California Adventure for our free dinner. When my head hit the pillow, the exhaustion just hit me like a ton of bricks and I was out like a light.
The Husband woke me up at 6 to get ready for dinner and I was like a walking dead man. As we made our way to the restauraunt, he kept looking at me and making sure that I was up to this. Hellfire, man! I need dinner! Foood! Feeeeeed meeeeee!
While we were waiting for dinner, we made the mistake of wandering over to one of the gift shops that are everywhere in these parks. In that shop they had a selection of the Disney Trading Pins as well as some of their starter pin sets. I don't know what came over me, but for some reason I decided that I Needed To Do This. *I* needed to trade pins with the hapless cast members that can't say no when I want one of their pins. All I can say is that Mickey Mouse stole my soul by breaking my vow and setting foot into Disneyland, and this was the result of my bringing this curse upon myself: Trading Pins. :::shudder:::
Unfortunately, this started a chain reaction with the girls wanting their own pin lanyards just like mommy and The Husband wanting to buy pins for his ladies. By the time we walked out of there, I had my own pin lanyard with it's four stock pins, plus about 7 other pins that The Husband had gotten for me. The girls had comparable ones as well. I don't even want to know how much this cost because it would probably make me throw up.
At dinner, The Husband and I should have just ordered one meal for the both of us, especially since we ordered the same thing - the fish and chips. It was the only thing that could have remotely been good for me in any way shape or form, and I only managed to eat one piece of fish and maybe two or three french fries. I also had a few spoonfulls of the chicken soup (way too salty) they brought for appetizer and two small spoonfulls of the peach cobbler (way too tasty for my good health) for dessert.
In the middle of eating, they announced that the Princesses were making their appearances for photos and autographs, and all the little girls went crazy. One by one they made their way around the room, stopping at all the tables, smiling their fake little Disney smiles and posing with those stupid little jazz hands that they do. Very sweet and cute for the girls, but OMG I just wanted it to end. Snow White, Belle, Jasmine, Mulan and Ariel all made appearances. I ended up taking a picture of The Husband with Belle just so that we can send it to his older brother. Apparently when Beauty and the Beast came out on tape the two of them watched it with their sister's kids and my brother-in-law whispered to The Husband and that he would "like one of those" referring to Belle. So, hah! Take that, older brother! Heee!
By the time everything was finished at the restaurant, it was getting close to storytime. As exhausted as I was, there was no way I could run back to the hotel, so I took all the stuff we had with us and told The Husband and the girls to make a dash for it, and that I would catch up with them. They apparently made it *just* in time and I managed to make it about halfway through. We stayed again for the fireworks, and this time we got to see the whole show. It was very good. The things they can do with fireworks nowadays is just amazing.
We get back to the room, and the girls are bouncing off the walls with energy still. I am so beat it's not even funny. The Husband makes an off-hand comment about going back into Disneyland and the girls JUMP all over it. He gives me the "Uh-oh!" look, but he did it to himself. Sorry, honey! So off they trudge again into the park. It's about 10:30 at night.
At approximately 1 in the morning, the three make it back to our room. The girls are decked out in Princess costumes - Thing One has chosen Aurora's pink dress (not the blue one!) and Thing Two is in Belle's yellow ballgown. Well, guess you guys have picked out your Halloween costumes, right? The Husband gives me a sheepish look and mumbles something about the Satanic music playing and about how he just wanted to make things special for them. All I can do is smile. This is further proof that Mickey Mouse has stolen my soul, Internet.
We all collapse into the sleep of the dead and don't wake up until about 9 the next morning. As we collect ourselves and our now greatly multiplied belongings (where did all this crap come from?) The Husband and I casually talk about the experience and how much we really liked it. We even started talking about coming back next year and doing it again. (Again, my soul is gone! Lost forever in the Disney abyss! :::sob:::)
The trip home only took two and a half hours including a stop at In-N-Out (one cheeseburger with no bun, please!). I was very relieved because if it had been any longer I think I would have had a conniption fit in the middle of gridlock on HWY 5. Now that I was finally out of the fiendish grip of Disney-mania, I felt my head clear. The fog (smog?) surrounding me lifted, and I no longer felt contaminated by the curse of Mickey and that all would be right in the world again. I was saved, and never again would I risk my soul for that little rodent again.
On Monday and back at work, I'm busily typing away when my phone rings. I give my standard hello and who praytell is on the other end of the line? None other than The Husband's Crew Chief, doing his Mickey Mouse imitation.
I hung up on him.
Monday, August 21, 2006
First day back at work. Damn, I miss nap time already.
It's been a little over a month since I was last at my job and boy-howdy was it an unpleasant thing to come and find my poor little Outlook Inbox overflowing with all the crap and detrious e-mail that I have had to slog through. At least there was not a whole lot of voice-mail messages. Guess nobody really cares for me in that manner. Hee!
In my particular building, there are two gals who have had the RNY and both were really happy to see me. I know that they're going to be great support going out from here, and we will probably all end up exercising together to keep each other motivated.
Unfortunately I decided for lunch to have one of those tuna fish packages - you know, the ones that come with the crackers? Ooof. Crackers equals nasty bloating. Perhaps next time just one or two instead of all of them. Owie. Yeah. Overdoing it sucks right out loud. Just because you still have room doesn't mean you should eat it all.
Dinner tonight is going to rock, however. The Husband discovered on the back of one of our cans of refried beans an awesome recipie for a Chile Rellano Bake that we made up last night and was SO FREAKING AWESOME! And tons upon tons of protein. Mmmmmm!
For your pleasure, I give you the Chile Rellano Bake!
The day or morning before you make this, cook a pot rost or pork loin in a crock pot using green salsa for the liquid. Shred meat after completely cooking through.
Take one large can of refried beans and spread in the bottom of a 9X13 pan.
Top with shredded beef or pork.
Top that with shredded cheese (we used pepper jack).
Separate 6 eggs.
Whip egg whites until stiff peaks are formed. (Amaze your friends and family when you turn the bowl of whipped egg whites upside down completely to prove to them that yes, they are stiff peaks indeed! Thing One and Thing Two were properly appreciative of mommy's magic. Hee!)
Whisk egg yolks until blended, then fold gently into egg whites.
Fold in 6 tablespoons flour into egg mixture, stirring until just blended.
Fold in 1 can of diced green chiles.
Top casserole with half of egg/chile mixture.
Top again with more shredded cheese.
Top with rest of egg/chile mixture.
Bake at 375 for 30-40 minutes or until top is golden brown. Then DIG IN!
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Month One - down 30 pounds and inches galore!
It's been one month since Dr. K removed over 80% of my stomach and re-routed my intestines, and all I can say is HOT DAMN!!!! I have lost 30 pounds (even though I've been down 33 pounds at one point) and currently weigh 285. And even better are the INCHES that I have lost. Four inches from my waist. Two inches on each of my upper arms. Five inches from my upper chest. Three inches from my hips. And the list goes on and on and on. It's fucking AWESOME! I can honestly say that I LOVE MY DS!
I won't lie to you though. The first few weeks are crappy. You have to learn what you can eat, how much you can eat, how quickly it can all come back up on you if you don't eat the right things. Ugh. I don't wish feelings like that on my worst enemy.
There were things that people didn't tell me about. Like the whole seepage issue. I was totally unprepared for that, and it completely grossed me out. One time when I was in the shower dealing with this issue (i.e. making it drain out) some tissue clumps came out as well and, well, I lost my lunch. In the shower. :::sigh::: I just was not prepared for this funky fluid to come out of me. Luckily, since Dr. K stuffed all that freaking gauze down me at my appointment last Monday that gaping hole in my body has begun to fill in and heal. There is little to no fluid coming out now, and I anticipate it may be completely healed over within two weeks. So, yay me!
Another thing that I was not prepared for is what I call the hunger monster. If I don't feed this tummy when it wants sustenance, OMG the monster that emerges is so not fun to deal with. So much for the no hunger pangs thing. Damn. It's insane.
As for food, there seems to be very few things that I can't eat from what I have tried. One current no-no that actually surprised me was mozarella cheese. But any other kind of cheese is just fine. Hrm. Wierd. Milk tastes very sweet to me, and as a result I don't want to drink it at all, which is kind of disappointing since one of my greatest pleasures is having a glass full of cold milk to drink down.
The smell of cooking fish completely grosses me out, but the actual taste isn't so bad at all. Fried chicken thighs are my main staple of food at the moment. Take off most of the breading and skin, and what's left behind is tender, delicious meat that I currently am obsessed with dipping in ranch dressing. Yum! Yogurt with some protein powder mixed in is damn good as far as I'm concerned. I also keep saying that I'm going to make up some deviled eggs but I have yet to get around to it. They just sound so good!
Oh. I can eat a whole crunchy taco from Taco Bell. It may take me a half hour, but by God I can eat that sucker! And chicken nuggets from McDonalds are good too, but I can't eat more than four or five of them at once. They're obviously not something I'm eating on a daily basis, but they made for good treats when out and about with the kids.
The one thing I haven't tried is bread. :::sigh::: I really crave a good English muffin right about now, but honestly I'm scared of it. I want to make a loaf of fresh bread and eat it toasted and slathered with butter. I think I'll wait another month before I try that. White flour scares me.
As for sweet things, well I just don't really have a taste for them at this point. I made a cheesecake and while I would have been previously foaming at the mouth about it, it sat in my refrigerator with only the children eating pieces of it. We had to throw it out because nobody would eat enough of it to make it go away. Pre-surgery? It wouldn't have lasted three days. So that's a good thing there.
I imagine I will eventually gain my sweet tooth back, but I think that with the knowledge that I *can* have a sweet here and there and that I don't have to deprive myself for the rest of my life, I'll be able to get a handle on having them - my huge trigger for eating sweets was always because I SHOULDN'T have them because I was just too fat to deserve having something that tasted that good. Then, too, is the issue of my eating food because I'm depressed or bored. If I'm able to re-route myself to better choices while I'm still in the honeymoon phase of this surgery, I think I will be prepared to face the next 20 years without overdoing it.
It's a good start, all things considered. I'm very pleased, and can't wait to see what happens next.
I won't lie to you though. The first few weeks are crappy. You have to learn what you can eat, how much you can eat, how quickly it can all come back up on you if you don't eat the right things. Ugh. I don't wish feelings like that on my worst enemy.
There were things that people didn't tell me about. Like the whole seepage issue. I was totally unprepared for that, and it completely grossed me out. One time when I was in the shower dealing with this issue (i.e. making it drain out) some tissue clumps came out as well and, well, I lost my lunch. In the shower. :::sigh::: I just was not prepared for this funky fluid to come out of me. Luckily, since Dr. K stuffed all that freaking gauze down me at my appointment last Monday that gaping hole in my body has begun to fill in and heal. There is little to no fluid coming out now, and I anticipate it may be completely healed over within two weeks. So, yay me!
Another thing that I was not prepared for is what I call the hunger monster. If I don't feed this tummy when it wants sustenance, OMG the monster that emerges is so not fun to deal with. So much for the no hunger pangs thing. Damn. It's insane.
As for food, there seems to be very few things that I can't eat from what I have tried. One current no-no that actually surprised me was mozarella cheese. But any other kind of cheese is just fine. Hrm. Wierd. Milk tastes very sweet to me, and as a result I don't want to drink it at all, which is kind of disappointing since one of my greatest pleasures is having a glass full of cold milk to drink down.
The smell of cooking fish completely grosses me out, but the actual taste isn't so bad at all. Fried chicken thighs are my main staple of food at the moment. Take off most of the breading and skin, and what's left behind is tender, delicious meat that I currently am obsessed with dipping in ranch dressing. Yum! Yogurt with some protein powder mixed in is damn good as far as I'm concerned. I also keep saying that I'm going to make up some deviled eggs but I have yet to get around to it. They just sound so good!
Oh. I can eat a whole crunchy taco from Taco Bell. It may take me a half hour, but by God I can eat that sucker! And chicken nuggets from McDonalds are good too, but I can't eat more than four or five of them at once. They're obviously not something I'm eating on a daily basis, but they made for good treats when out and about with the kids.
The one thing I haven't tried is bread. :::sigh::: I really crave a good English muffin right about now, but honestly I'm scared of it. I want to make a loaf of fresh bread and eat it toasted and slathered with butter. I think I'll wait another month before I try that. White flour scares me.
As for sweet things, well I just don't really have a taste for them at this point. I made a cheesecake and while I would have been previously foaming at the mouth about it, it sat in my refrigerator with only the children eating pieces of it. We had to throw it out because nobody would eat enough of it to make it go away. Pre-surgery? It wouldn't have lasted three days. So that's a good thing there.
I imagine I will eventually gain my sweet tooth back, but I think that with the knowledge that I *can* have a sweet here and there and that I don't have to deprive myself for the rest of my life, I'll be able to get a handle on having them - my huge trigger for eating sweets was always because I SHOULDN'T have them because I was just too fat to deserve having something that tasted that good. Then, too, is the issue of my eating food because I'm depressed or bored. If I'm able to re-route myself to better choices while I'm still in the honeymoon phase of this surgery, I think I will be prepared to face the next 20 years without overdoing it.
It's a good start, all things considered. I'm very pleased, and can't wait to see what happens next.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Two days to go!
Well, after a successful weekend of distracting the family from what happens this week (actually, I think it was The Husband trying to distract himself more than anything else), I find myself on the first day of the liquid diet to prepare myself for my Duodenal Switch surgery on Wednesday morning.
The Farewell to Food Tour has been quite interesting, to say the least. Twice The Husband and I have had Lou Malnati's pizzas overnighted to us. For a total of eight pizzas. Wow. I guess we like them, eh? I have gorged myself at Red Robin, Marie Callendars, Olive Garden, IHOP and other assorted chain restauraunts that make good, carb-filled pablum for the masses. Damn, it's been good these last couple of weeks. My only regret is that my favorite German restauraunt is no longer in business so that I could have some of their excellent Bockwurst and fried potatoes. That, my friends, was pure bliss! Mmmmmm!
And guess what? I haven't gained a single pound. Hee! :::grin:::
So, we'll see if the liquid diet brings my weight down any before I hit the table. Thankfully my doctor only has us do two days of this and then the bowel prep the night before. Others aren't so lucky and have to spend two freaking weeks eating next to nothing, or that silly Optifast stuff.
Breakfast today was Isopure Zero Carb Island Punch mixed with Fruit Punch Crystal Light. Not bad at all. Pretty tasty, actually. Fifty grams of protein. Should make up for the ginormous chocolate shake that I'm planning on having for lunch. Hee!
The Farewell to Food Tour has been quite interesting, to say the least. Twice The Husband and I have had Lou Malnati's pizzas overnighted to us. For a total of eight pizzas. Wow. I guess we like them, eh? I have gorged myself at Red Robin, Marie Callendars, Olive Garden, IHOP and other assorted chain restauraunts that make good, carb-filled pablum for the masses. Damn, it's been good these last couple of weeks. My only regret is that my favorite German restauraunt is no longer in business so that I could have some of their excellent Bockwurst and fried potatoes. That, my friends, was pure bliss! Mmmmmm!
And guess what? I haven't gained a single pound. Hee! :::grin:::
So, we'll see if the liquid diet brings my weight down any before I hit the table. Thankfully my doctor only has us do two days of this and then the bowel prep the night before. Others aren't so lucky and have to spend two freaking weeks eating next to nothing, or that silly Optifast stuff.
Breakfast today was Isopure Zero Carb Island Punch mixed with Fruit Punch Crystal Light. Not bad at all. Pretty tasty, actually. Fifty grams of protein. Should make up for the ginormous chocolate shake that I'm planning on having for lunch. Hee!
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock
That would be the sound my mind is making as every day until my Duodenal Switch surgery passes. It would be funny, except for the part where I can't sleep. And dammit, but I need my sleep!
It's gotten so bad that two nights ago I was so exhausted from previous nights of next to no sleep that I not only slept through the alarm clock when it went off for The Husband to get up, but I also slept through him kissing me before he went into the kitchen to get his stuff together and almost slept completely through him kissing me goodbye! Aaack! (Although, I must admit that it is really, really nice to be awoken by the love of your life sweetly kissing you and stroking your hair. Aaahhh!)
I'm usually the person who is wide awake ten minutes before the alarm is set to go off, no matter what time, so being this dead to the world because of exhaustion is something totally new for me. No matter how tired I am (and I'm always tired lately it seems) my mind just cannot relax for a single moment. We go to bed after an exhausting day, and while The Husband is out cold, I'm lying there with my eyes closed and mind a-whirling for hours on end, it seems. Which means that I am constantly feeling like putting my head down on my desk and taking a nap. (I did that yesterday after my comatose morning. Shhhhh! Thank God for the new cubicle that I'm in!)
As a result, I am consuming more caffiene than ever in the form of sodas and coffee - and the combination of sugar and caffene buzz and then the abrupt crashes from coming off of the stimulants is making me cranky both in body and attitude. My acid reflux is killing me every day, and I am becoming more and more snappy when something annoys me.
I think it's time to see the doctor and get a prescription for Ambien or something like that. I also need to start back on the occasional Prozac because I know that my hormones are going to go completely ape-shit when I have surgery and all that estrogen is released from those fat cells. I really don't feel like snapping and committing an axe murder just because somebody changes the channel on the TV to something I don't like, so I consider this a pre-emptive strike at saving my marriage and preventing me from doing some jail time over something really unnecessary. Stripes just aren't my thing, you know? They totally make you look fatter than you are, and Lord knows I don't need anymore of THAT going on.
* * * * *
Well, the Farewell to Food Tour (tm Dagny) continues for me. Tomorrow, I'm going to meet my friend Amy who had the DS for lunch at one of our local Chinese eateries. This should be fun - actually seeing how much she eats five years out from this thing. While I'm able to indulge my tastebuds with Crab Rangoons and Orange Chicken. Mmmmm!
Also, I just ordered four of Lou Malnati's deep dish pizzas to be shipped here tomorrow. The Husband and I LOVE Lou Malnati's pizza, but let's face it. We can't afford to fly to Chicago on a regular basis to satiate our tastebuds. So, it's going to come to us. I'm going to savor every last bite, dammit. Chinese for lunch and Lou Malnati's for dinner. There's about five pounds gained for the day right there! Aaack! But it'll taste ever so good!
And next year at this time, when I've lost 100 pounds or so, I'm going to order another pizza from Lou Malnati's, and we're going to eat it in celebration, because life with the DS is going to be so much better than life as it is now. I can't wait for this new life to begin.
It's gotten so bad that two nights ago I was so exhausted from previous nights of next to no sleep that I not only slept through the alarm clock when it went off for The Husband to get up, but I also slept through him kissing me before he went into the kitchen to get his stuff together and almost slept completely through him kissing me goodbye! Aaack! (Although, I must admit that it is really, really nice to be awoken by the love of your life sweetly kissing you and stroking your hair. Aaahhh!)
I'm usually the person who is wide awake ten minutes before the alarm is set to go off, no matter what time, so being this dead to the world because of exhaustion is something totally new for me. No matter how tired I am (and I'm always tired lately it seems) my mind just cannot relax for a single moment. We go to bed after an exhausting day, and while The Husband is out cold, I'm lying there with my eyes closed and mind a-whirling for hours on end, it seems. Which means that I am constantly feeling like putting my head down on my desk and taking a nap. (I did that yesterday after my comatose morning. Shhhhh! Thank God for the new cubicle that I'm in!)
As a result, I am consuming more caffiene than ever in the form of sodas and coffee - and the combination of sugar and caffene buzz and then the abrupt crashes from coming off of the stimulants is making me cranky both in body and attitude. My acid reflux is killing me every day, and I am becoming more and more snappy when something annoys me.
I think it's time to see the doctor and get a prescription for Ambien or something like that. I also need to start back on the occasional Prozac because I know that my hormones are going to go completely ape-shit when I have surgery and all that estrogen is released from those fat cells. I really don't feel like snapping and committing an axe murder just because somebody changes the channel on the TV to something I don't like, so I consider this a pre-emptive strike at saving my marriage and preventing me from doing some jail time over something really unnecessary. Stripes just aren't my thing, you know? They totally make you look fatter than you are, and Lord knows I don't need anymore of THAT going on.
* * * * *
Well, the Farewell to Food Tour (tm Dagny) continues for me. Tomorrow, I'm going to meet my friend Amy who had the DS for lunch at one of our local Chinese eateries. This should be fun - actually seeing how much she eats five years out from this thing. While I'm able to indulge my tastebuds with Crab Rangoons and Orange Chicken. Mmmmm!
Also, I just ordered four of Lou Malnati's deep dish pizzas to be shipped here tomorrow. The Husband and I LOVE Lou Malnati's pizza, but let's face it. We can't afford to fly to Chicago on a regular basis to satiate our tastebuds. So, it's going to come to us. I'm going to savor every last bite, dammit. Chinese for lunch and Lou Malnati's for dinner. There's about five pounds gained for the day right there! Aaack! But it'll taste ever so good!
And next year at this time, when I've lost 100 pounds or so, I'm going to order another pizza from Lou Malnati's, and we're going to eat it in celebration, because life with the DS is going to be so much better than life as it is now. I can't wait for this new life to begin.
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