Leave it and love yourself

Pouch test bonus: I lost 4.4lbs last week, yay! This puts me 1/3 of the way toward my first short term goal: to lose the approximately 15 lbs I've put on since autumn.  Nine pounds to go and then I'll set a new short term goal.  I totally believe it's helpful and great to celebrate small milestones along the way.

So what now?  Well, I'm continuing with a modified version of the plan.  I think I'm going to keep eating mainly light soups on Mondays and Tuesdays as a way to get me on track for the week.  For today I've made Hungry Girl's V10 soup (like V8 but way more veggies and lighter).  I'm already feeling a bit of snack anxiety (as in I don't have something to snack on, some crunchy little things to nibble throughout the day) but I know that that's one of my major problems and something I'm going to constantly battle, and if some super veggie soup is what's going to get me through today, then that's it.  I did put a 100 calorie pack of almonds in my bag, though, in case I'm not full enough from the soup and get lightheaded and can't concentrate at work.

The (my) relationship with food is so complicated that I just purely hate it (the relationship) sometimes.  There's an interesting article in The Daily Beast today about Disinhibited-Eating Disorder, which they describe as:

As a group, disinhibited eaters are people who are unusually tied into the world around them and, when it comes to food, are more vulnerable to the everyday temptations of the high-fat, high-calorie goodies that surround us than those lucky folks to whom a full table is just a full table . . . For these people, more than other folks, learning how to deal with our toxic food environment makes a world of difference. And by this, I mean learning how to comfortably control it rather than engage in futile battles of willpower with it. If you’re someone who tends to eat just because there is food for the taking, even if you’re not the least bit hungry, read on.

Seriously?  This is SO normal for me that I had to read it several times because I was looking for the part that stood out as the problem.  Obviously I know what the problem is, but what I mean is that it's like reading the definition for schizophrenia and going, "Oh, hearing voices - yeah, that's a big sign of bad things going on."  I read this and went, "Oh.  Right.  Um, that's just daily life." Their solution: surround yourself with a personal microenvironment that decreases opportunities for disinhibition and creates a hunger-free, more-satisfied metabolism. This is exactly what I'm trying to do.  Of course, we all have to live in the real world and work to control ourselves when out in the buffet that is that real world, but a huge part of my life is home and work - two places I do have some (although not total) control over. They go on to suggest six rules for helping keep control (I highly suggest reading the article).

As I mentioned before, my good friend My Right To Dream recently underwent gastric sleeve surgery, a type of weight loss surgery (a bit different from the gastric bypass I had) and she's having a hard time with the first week of recovery, which is significantly physically painful sometimes.  As she talks about it, I remember those times - but when asked before, I couldn't recall much of it because the mental workings of breaking up and reuniting with food was so much bigger for me.  Going into the surgery, I had no idea that I had eating issues.  I feel dumb about that now, but I just really didn't know. I don't need to be a size 10 (though a 12 would be nice).  I don't need compliments on how I look or what a good job I'm doing losing weight (from people who just see any diet as a good thing because they've been conditioned - I do appreciate the comments from the people who know how hard and what a complicated process it is).  I don't want to turn heads.  I'm not a fan of attention, really.  I just want to be happy with me.

Last night I watched the first four episodes of My So-Called Life with Delightfully Sweet.  The show was my first "Things I Miss Friday" item and I can barely describe just how influential it was and still is on me.  For me, that show is magical and I would give anything to have that same team create a new show today.  The closing voice-over of the fourth episode (which I also quoted in that first Things I Miss Friday) speaks to me today just as much as it did when I was 19:

Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of prison. And the crime is how much we hate ourselves. It's good to get really dressed up once in a while. And admit the truth: that when you really look closely? People are so strange and so complicated that they're actually... beautiful. Possibly even me.

Things I Miss Friday - King of Pop edition

Today's "Things I Miss Friday" is both easy and difficult.  Easy because the subject is almost a given, but difficult because it's a controversial given. Kendra from Pop Trash Radio put it this way: "The Michael Jackson I loved died a long time ago in my opinion.  This still makes me somewhat sad."  I believe there are a lot of people that feel that way today, and I am one of them. 

His life and significance are a bit difficult to parse, but so far I see people falling in three camps: 1) those who can only make pedophile jokes today; 2) those who only talk about his great achievements in music; and 3) those who recognize his achievements but also recognize his personal difficulties.  #1 and #2 are laypeople.  I've only seen #3 in newscasters so far.  I believe the #3 is really the only way to go.

How do we give credit to an alleged pedophile for anything he accomplished?  I have always firmly believed that people who commit such heinous crimes are genetically programmed for that sort of behavior.  However, I read something yesterday that I think is an even better description: genetics loads the gun but environment pulls the trigger.  What would have become of this boy genius had there been someone in his life with some knowledge about the special needs and concerns of child stars and the dangers of celebrity?  The abuse of Jackson's childhood is fairly well-documented and not really disputed.  That already creates a particular type of sensitive and possibly troubled child.  Put that child in a fishbowl and continue to have him work in an industry where both your employers and fans fawn over you and it's a recipe for destruction.

I'm not sure we'll see anything quite like Jackson's level of fame for a long time to come.  We are already a much more jaded society and would scrutinize someone similar so much earlier.  For all of his own personal failures and destructive problems, we must hold ourselves partly accountable.  As I stated recently with the Jon & Kate phenomenon, we love to lift people up and then watch with joy as they crumble and fall, all the while still partaking of whatever entertainment it is they provide us (for Jackson, the music).  If genetics loads the gun, then fame and the public's habit of lifting up and tearing down bought the gun, the ammunition, taught him how to shoot, and then pulled the trigger.

This level of fame will also be hard to reach again because Jackson was a rare talent; I don't believe that can be denied.  To Gen Y or the Millenials, it may be hard to believe, but MTV used to be kind of revolutionary.  They had a sort of punk rock attitude when they started and were very much giving the finger to the traditional music industry and cable programming.  They were navigating only semi-charted waters.  However, they didn't play videos by black artists.  It's such an odd feeling for me to think how in my lifetime this was even possible - how segregated the music industry still was during my childhood. However, Michael Jackson changed that.  His music was so good and so broad in its influence that MTV had no choice but to show him.  To do otherwise would have been the equivalent of making people sit in the back of the bus.  With millions of Americans of every race and background buying Jackson's albums, it only made sense that they show his videos.

And then, we can't ignore those videos.  I can't imagine what the world of music videos would look like if it weren't for Michael Jackson.  Maybe the Gen Y/Millennial folks have no idea, but he truly was a visionary.  As the footage rolled on every cable news network yesterday, my brain kept flashing with even more videos (because, of course, the news mainly showed clips of the Jackson 5 and "Thriller").  If you really want to see how amazing he was, watch those early Jackson 5 clips.  He is the standout and nearly mesmerizing to watch. But what about "Smooth Criminal", "Bad", "The Way You Make Me Feel", "Rock With You", "Beat It", "Dirty Diana", "Black or White", and a hundred more.  Who doesn't recognize the lit sidewalk in "Billie Jean"?  Who hasn't seen (and tried) the Moonwalk?  (And that was before the internet - imagine today what would have happened with that moment.)  What about "Scream", with his sister Janet - when they had to actually show some people they weren't the same person.  What about Say Say Say, with Paul McCartney?  How sad that they had that terrible falling out (I'm wondering if Sir Paul will release a statement.)  What about "Man in the Mirror" and "Leave Me Alone, which let us in to a bit of his troubles.  Do you remember "Remember the Time" with Eddie Murphy as an Egyptian king and Iman as his queen?  Because of his extreme amounts of money, he could afford the best special effects available, often before the ordinary public had any idea something like that existed.  I think videos like "Black or White" and "Remember the Time" out-do the late 90s/early 00s Star Wars films.

And then there's "We Are The World."  Sure, there have been other similar projects, but that one stands out - I think everyone owned a "USA for Africa" t-shirt.  I vividly remember standing on stage for one of my fifth grade school recitals and singing that song and how the audience of parents and teachers joined in at the chorus.  Who could pull together that array of celebrities and musicians today without it turning into a horrendous ego-fest AND accomplish a beautiful piece of music that also worked to bring a world problem to light?  I am at a loss to think of anyone who could achieve that today.

People will be tempted to look at him as a divided human being: in one part, an extraordinary artist who has made lasting contributions to the world of music, art, and charity.  And the other part, a troubled and possibly sick human being who allegedly molested young boys and was an all-around weirdo: a pet chimp, a home amusement park, an obsession with Peter Pan, the skin lightening, the plastic surgery.  However, I insist we must work to recognize that this is all the same human being and that this is all intertwined. Artists are often troubled people. 

One scientist found that 20% of poets commit suicide, compared to 4% of other professions, and poets have nowhere near the fame Jackson did.  He was troubled because he was great and because his greatness thrust him into a life and lifestyle that was more than he could manage.  I find it utterly disturbing that he was preparing for a huge tour when, clearly, he had to have been significantly troubled and in poor health.  Shame on his handlers. I have yet to see that side of this mentioned; I hope someone picks up on it and starts asking questions.  Anna Nicole Smith's handlers are being held accountable for their role in her death; his should be, as well.

But that brings me back to us - the video-watching, album/MP3-buying, tabloid magazine reading public.  We are complicit as well.  Nothing grabs our attention more than when a side show takes the main stage. Well now, Mr. Jackson has left the building and it's time for us to find a new show.  Let's try not to destroy the next one, but instead let's work to treasure our artists; we can lift up their work while keeping the person grounded.  We're in this together.  We are the world. I do not believe in an afterlife, but I do believe that there is peace to be had today, both for the people who were troubled by Jackson (the boys, their families, his handlers) and for Jackson himself. I think it's worth taking some time to reflect on all of this.  But I hope it's also possible to take some time to just enjoy some of Jackson's work on the YouTube Michael Jackson channel.  Remember the time.

I'm pretty sure there will be a memorial service for Jackson.  I think what they should try to do is reunite everyone from "We Are the World" and have them sing that in tribute.  It's sad to think how most of them outlived him, but it would remember the best of his life and the best of his work and would be an amazing show of support.  I can dream.

Edited to add: If you want to read similar, much more concise thoughts on this from a far better writer, check out Andrew Sullivan's post on The Daily Dish.  He's got it right.

The (afternoon) diary of a food addict

1:19pm  I can do this.  Food should not cause panic.  Soup does not require crackers.  Summon memory of smashing crackers in a restaurant as a toddler as a way to keep busy while the parents tried to enjoy a meal.  (Bad crackers!  *fist pound*  Bad crackers!)

1:42pm  I'm not sure how I'm supposed to complete a thought if I keep having to get up and go to the bathroom - and I'm only halfway through my water consumption for the day.  I hope I can sleep tonight without getting up 5x to pee.

1:45pm  Ow, what is that headache?  Caffeine withdrawal?  Hunger?  Pee pain?

1:48pm  Now that I peed, I feel hungry again... and I think the soup spice is burning in my ears.

1:59pm  I hate Audrina Patridge.

2:04pm  No, I hate all celebrities who say dumb things and reinforce bad body images and poor eating habits - like Fergie, who said, "I don't have a perfect figure, but I'm working with what I've got."  I think her body is pretty damn perfect, nevermind the fact that there is no such thing as a perfect figure.  Shame on her for all the girls and women who will look at her and then feel bad about themselves because Fergie is gorgeous but makes herself sound disfigured and ugly.

2:19pm  Pee.

2:20pm  Just remembered that I have to work until 6pm today instead of my usual 5pm.  Should have gone out for an hour at lunchtime.  I work right across the street from the mall; I could have gone there!  No, the mall has food.  Where am I supposed to go - everywhere has food?  There is no place for me.

2:27pm  Wow, just realized I'm not hungry!  Wow!  Awesome!

2:28pm  Realizing this has made me hungry.  Grrr brain.

2:40pm  I want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Just half of one.

3:00pm  Looking at my bracelet, I just realized this past March was my five year surgiversary.  I didn't even remember and definitely didn't have anything about it to celebrate.  That's bad - the five year marker is the biggee.  If you're good at five years, you're likely to be good for life.  Okay, so not yet for me.  Let's be happy on the six year surgiversary.

3:15pm  Pee.

3:16pm  I wish my brain would stop flashing pictures of cheese.

3:34pm  The iPod is playing "Everybody Hurts."  I want to make a sarcastic comment about the pain involved in a cheese and carb-free day, but the song is actually affecting me.  What I told Amy yesterday is so true: it's just not fair that some of us have to work this hard.  But we do it.

3:35pm  I need to start wearing waterproof mascara.

3:55pm  I'm almost out of water.  Oh crap.

3:57pm  Pee.

4:12pm  Suddenly FUCKING STARVING.  Stomach grumbling, mouth salivating, hungry.

4:14pm  Mm, soup.  I want to filter out all the barley and lentils and just eat them by themselves and pretend they're baked ziti.

4:28pm  I want a soft pretzel.  This might be the first time I'm glad there are no Wawa's around.

4:47pm  Doing okay.  Hunger and cravings are not an emergency.  Can wait for the next meal.  Feeling strangely powerful.

4:56pm  I feel like my brain has been turned on.  Good eating takes time, planning, and patience.  Duh.  I knew that!  Now I know it again.

I swore I wouldn't change...

But I've got some necessary revision to do.  Hell, I'm a writing teacher - revision is my life.

1. Lose 45 pounds (3/45) is now....  1. Lose 60 pounds (0/60).

I have not been in control of my eating and have made no attempt what-so-ever to get any sort of exercise or do any kind of physical activity, so more pounds are creeping on.  I got on the scale this morning and was absolutely horrified by what I saw, even though I just weighed myself two or three days ago.  I am out of control - meaning, I have relinquished control of my food intake and body's well-being... and I must do something about this.

There are a lot of reasons why I want to lose weight.  I can't fathom getting pregnant and putting on another 30 lbs and then having to lose ALL of that.  I want to be able to shop for semi-normal pregnancy clothes.  I want to currently fit into my old clothes.  I want to stop feeling tired.  I want to feel attractive and cute and sexy again.  I want to be proud of the shape that I'm in.  I want to be proud of the control I have over this lifelong habit and addiction.

Once again, I find Rebecca Woolf to be inspirational.  She is regularly 5'8" and a size 8 (damn lucky).  By the end of her first pregnancy, she was over 200 lbs.  She got up at 6am and went hiking every day to help work off the pregnancy weight (which was in the 190s by the time she got home from the hospital).  All that in the L.A. sun and heat.  Why can't I get off my ass and do something - anything! - when I don't have a newborn to take care of?

So this is it, intarwebs.  I'm making a change.  A revision.  I hate apologizing to myself every day.  I hate looking in my drawers and feeling depressed about the clothes I have and how they fit.  I hate how my back fat has grown back when, for a little while, I had a sloped back that I loved to look at. Without my snacks, I'm going to be mean.  Angry.  Sad.  Pissed.  Cranky.  But so is a junkie going through detox, which is really how I feel about this.  I have a habit that is detrimental to my health and plays with my brain chemistry and thought system.  No one but me can get it under control.

Nanananana... bread.

My nephew (age 15 months) says "nana" for banana... of course, he also calls one of his grandmothers "Nana"... so is he calling her bananas (i.e. crazy)?  I guess only time will tell.

I love bananas; I could eat one every day.  However, the hubby doesn't eat them so when I buy a bunch, I always end up with one or two bananas going brown.  This, however, isn't terrible because then I can make - dun dun da dun! - banana bread! 

So last night I set out to make (who else's?) Smitten Kitchen's Jacked-Up Banana Bread.  Except mine turned out to be more like low-jack banana bread - but still yummy. So I got all my stuff ready (note: those are not something gross - they're just REALLY brown bananas):

This was the first time I was going to use my mini-loaf pan so I was super excited about that.  (Those of you who know me IRL can expect a mini-loaf of something yummers for the holidays.  I have two of these so I can get EIGHT mini-loaves going at a time - rock on.)  And, yes, that is the cheap vanilla I'm using.  I'm trying to use it up in recipes where the vanilla isn't the star so its quality isn't of utmost importance (I bought it in a crunch one day for emergency vanilla use). So I got to mashing and mixing and just loved how the scoops of brown sugar kept a sand-castle-like appearance as I added them to the mix:

I also love that the recipe insists that you use a wooden spoon.  I don't know enough about the science of baking to know why you should use a wooden spoon for this, but it makes it feel extra special that it's required (although I would have used one anyway just because I love them and they mix really well).

However, here is where the banana bread went from jacked-up to low-jack.  I was opting out of the bourbon (I'm not a fan of alcohol in baked goods most of the time - I just don't enjoy the taste) and then also realized that I did not have nutmeg OR clove on hand!  What?  Ugh!  What happened to all of my baking supplies??  I could have sworn I had both spices on hand.  I swear, I am usually ready for any baking situation.  So, alas, my banana bread was going to be single spice instead of triple spice.  I figured it would still be good, though, so I soldiered on.

Aren't they cute?  So teeny!  I forced myself to let them cool before I sliced into one.  The hubby hates both bananas AND cinnamon (*gasp* - I know, right?) so these are aaaaaall mine.  Yum yum.  Except that my sister-in-law's eyes lit up when I mentioned this the other day, so I'm giving one mini-loaf to her.  The other one will be fully devoured by the end of today and I really don't need to be eating two whole mini-loaves myself in the span of two days (which is exactly what would happen).

I really love to bake - and I'm really beginning to love cooking now, too - I just wish I had more occasion to do so.  Money is always an issue, but I'm contemplating making a significant change in my diet in order to eat less meat.  I don't think I could ever be a vegan because the idea of giving up cheese makes me want to just quit life, but I have a lot of issues with the contemporary diet, its affect on human health, and how the industrial farming complex in this country works, so it's something I'm pondering.  I would love to get the hubby on board, but that won't happen so this is going to take a lot of resolve, something I've never exactly been full of when it comes to food.  More thoughts on this to come, I'm sure. But for now, back to nibbling on the banana bread.

I am not that girl that cries when pulled over, I swear.

Except that I did today.  Let me back up.

I came to work with a very slight headache today - so slight that I didn't bother taking anything for it because I figured my morning coffee would take care of it.  Instead, it grew into a full-on migraine, including nausea.  So I had the hubby look up the nearest CVS and left work to go buy some Excedrin.  Except the CVS wasn't where it was supposed to be (bad Google Maps).  So I called the hubby and had him redirect me to a new CVS, taking deep breaths so I could avoid pulling over and puking on the side of the road. And then I passed  Dunkin Donuts and pulled onto a major local road.  And then I got pulled over for being on my cell phone without a headset.

Let me explain.  Ordinarily, I avoid talking on the phone while driving.  If my phone rings, I am that person that will actually either pull over or ignore the call most of the time.  If I know it'll be short, I might answer it, but I keep that call under 30 seconds, I swear.  If I see a cop, I put the phone in my lap.  This time, however, I was so distracted by the construction crew in my head and the hurricane in my stomach that I didn't see the cop car until he was pulling me over.

Officer: Hello.
Me: Hello officer.
Officer: Do you know why I pulled you over?
Me: Cell phone.  (Feeling too ill for complete sentences at this point.)
Officer: ... (Okay, I have no idea what he said next because I was trying not to lean out the window and puke on his shoes.)
Me: Yes, sir.  It's just that I have a really bad migraine right now and my husband was giving me directions to the CVS and--
Officer: (cuts me off) Yes, but you cannot be on a hand held cell phone.  License, registration, and insurance card please.

I hand him these without a word and he goes back to the squad car.  I then start to cry.  No, not cry, SOB.  Like the cartoon characters whose eyes are squinched shut with tears flying out in arcs on both sides while their mouth hangs open going, "Uh huh huh... waaaaaaah!"  That was me. The cop came back to the car, handed me back my documentation and a ticket (which didn't have an amount on it, but the hubby looked it up and said it'll be $100 - $100??!!??!!).  Totally ignoring my crying, he said something to me about not doing this again; I said, "Okay" and then he walked away.  I found a CVS, bought Excedrin and a Coke Zero, and went back to work.

The three Excedrin express gels have worked wonders, but I still feel a bit spacey and pukey.  But I feel well enough to have eaten lunch (when don't I feel well enough to shove food in my face?) and to now do work until I get to leave at 3:30 for my three day weekend.

It's not easy, quoth the grandmother.

There was an interesting article in the NY Times a couple of days ago about how Michelle Obama's mother, Marian Robinson, is adjusting to life in Washington D.C.  I believe there are so many families in this country who rely on grandparents to help them make ends meet, both financially and in their daily lives, and that the idea is not really discussed often enough.  I like that Ms. Robinson is becoming more of a national talking point, or that grandparents in general are.

My little fur baby, Oreo, was quite sick last week.  I still don't know what it was, but starting on Monday she had diarrhea and it lasted through the week, actually getting worse throughout the weekend.  I brought her to my parents' house on Sunday while I did laundry and asked if they could watch her for us while we went to see the Wolverine movie.  They did and then offered to watch her for another day or two since my mother is home all day and could keep an eye on her (Oreo was going outside nearly every hour on Sunday so I was very worried about her dehydrating).  She seems to have fully recovered now, thankfully - but it made me realize how glad I am that both the hubby and I have our parents around in the event that we need help.  Granted, right now, that help mainly entails offering up a free meal and laundry machine usage once a week, but even that is nothing to sneeze it; we appreciate it greatly.

My grandmother is a legend in our family (but whose isn't, right?).  Many years ago, after my grandfather died of cancer, my grandmother declared that, "Everyone has cancer in them - it just matters how you live."  Not many years later, scientists theorized the same thing - that we all have the potential for cancer in our DNA but that it's our life circumstances and habits that determine whether or not it's expressed.  Now, for a woman who grew up in the Ukraine and never went to school a day in her life, that's pretty incredible.

 

But nothing tops her most used and well-loved phrases:  "It's not easy" (sometimes also known as "Life's not easy") and "You do what you can."  Often these are used in tandem, for example:

Grandmother: How's school? Me: Good.  I like it a lot.  It's a lot of work and I don't get to see my friends a lot, but it's good. Grandmother: Yeah, it's not easy but you do what you can.

Bingo, bam, slam dunk.  The phrases work in so many situations and we have all found ourselves using them on occasion and giggling when we hear other people use them.

But they're both remarkably true and that's the simple beauty to them, the sort of simplistic, truthful beauty that can't be learned in school.  Yes, life is not easy.  Nothing worth something is.  And, yes, you do what you can.  Of course, that one could almost be overlooked - of COURSE we all do what we can.  But the beauty is deeper.  What constitutes can?  As an educator, I am frequently faced with students who think they're doing all they can but once you show them how just a little bit more effort pays off, they realize they can do so much more.

My grandmother marched through Europe during WWII, moving from country to country with my grandfather, with nearly nothing to their name, picking up five languages along the way, although she knew how to read none.  They moved to Argentina and then later to the U.S. when my mother was a baby.  Perhaps that's why I have a broad view of what one can do - because my grandmother showed me a whole world of can.

When my grandfather died, she was 63 years old and still did not know how to read.  My mother set her up with a literacy teacher and, with help and time, she learned to read for herself.  Now nearly 85, she has been living on her own for twenty years, managing her house, shopping, medications, and daily life.

I feel like what I can do pales in comparison to what her generation was able to do.  My family history drives me to do what I can because that's what you do: you do what you can because it's not easy.

What can you do?