Miss Fix-it

(image from artchixstudio.com)

I'm a Picture straightener.

I can't help it. I'm a compulsive miss fix-it and the only thing I really hate is the thing I can't fix.

I can't fix things that happened in the past.
I can't fix other people.
I can't fix the weather.
I can't fix other people's money problems.
I can't fix what God has decided will be otherwise.

But I want to. I want to wave my magic wand and make people whole and healthy. I want to sprinkle fairy dust and make my friend's daughter slender so she doesn't have to face a lifetime of weight issues. I want some extra strength fairy dust for my other friends' children, both special needs kids, both with uncertain futures. I want a pocket full of magic to make marriages healed and families whole and the places I used to love to feel like home again. I want a problem I can solve. I want everyone I love to want my love.

Just dub me Glinda the Witch of Good Intentions. The bubbly blonde with the broken wand. How does one survive in a world where problems just won't go away?

I guess I'll continue to pick away at the things I can fix. Like small time home repair. My weight. My lame pack a week smoking habit, which I am psyching myself up to stop, soon. After all this time I still forget that the only things I can truly fix are the things within me.

Fat girl vs. Skinny chick

So I'm reading "Tales from the Scale" which is not really what I expected -- I expected more humor and less introspection. But it turns out to be a thought-provoking little tome about how women deal with a lifetime of weight problems. It's led me to do some thinking about my own inner fat girl and the skinny chick lurking around in there too -- because they do coexist, although badly.

The fat girl showed up in 7th grade. Special K had those "pinch an inch" commercials on TV and I reached down and, to my great dismay, grabbed at least an inch worth of flesh. I have no idea what I weighed then but things were already starting to go if only slightly, wrong. I get to thank puberty for that. I had always been a skinny kid but hormones changed everything. I also lived with a woman who had very serious weight issues and I had a lot of free access to pop and junk food. My skinny chick had always been able to eat anything and be a beanpole. But the fat girl demanded something different and a lot more of it.

In 8th grade I had my school picture taken and it was so awful I demanded they retake it. Over his vehement protests, the photographer took the picture again but it was no better. The truth was on film twice over. I looked pale, tired, bloated and unhappy. That year I had my last falling out with my stepmom and got moved to my mother's house. Living with my slender mother didn't help. My freshman year I was just over 5" and probably weighed 112 and thought I had become a complete cow. Each year of high school I tracked my weight: 116 my sophomore year, 121 my junior year and 131 my senior year. Not quite 5'4" and 131. I thought I was huge. Most of my friends were probably 10-15 pounds lighter. My mother called me porkchop if she caught me snacking after school. I knew I weighed more than she did: both my parents had weighed 118 when they married -- they were little people. I should have been too, but I was not. I had breasts. I had curves. I had a softness my mother didn't. I was zaftig. In my head, I was fat. But I still wanted food, so I snuck it. I bought the candy bars the cheerleaders were selling and ate them for breakfast. I bought girl scout cookies and hid them, polishing off a box of Thin Mints in 2 sittings. I ate spoonsful of peanut butter and cream cheese. I bought spreadable cheese my choir sold as a fundraiser and ate it plain because I didn't want my mom to see me with the crackers.

And so the rollercoaster began. College = pizza, booze and a five pound weight gain. Thankfully I had to walk a lot and I was broke all the time, otherwise it would have been much worse. My first year of marriage, my ex told me I'd feel so much better if I'd "just lose 10#". So I tried the "American Heart Association Diet". When that failed, I consulted a nutritionist and lost weight -- it was the last time I saw the 120s (16 years ago). After my first husband left, I didn't even think about the fact that I was back on the dating scene and carrying an extra 20 pounds. I knew when I slept with someone that the lights should be off so no one could see me but the inner skinny chick, still alive despite everything, told me that I didn't really look that bad. I never looked in mirrors. I ate canned soup and candy from the counter of the Hallmark store I worked in part-time at night and on weekends. I had Taco Bell if I could afford it. On special occasions, I treated myself to Velveeta Shells N' Cheese.

When T and I started dating I didn't own a scale. I remember standing on his and saying "if I hit 150 I'm wiring my mouth shut." After a very happy year and a half courtship, we married. I weighed 169 after our 18 month Dairy Queen dating ritual and when the pictures came back of me pre-ceremony, in sweats and in profile, I knew it was time I got serious. Enter Weight Watchers attempt #1. I lost 29 pounds in maybe 9 months and was thrilled but proceeded to put every pound right back on and add another 20 to it. Attempt number 2 (with many false starts in between) I lost nearly 50 pounds. I weighed 138 for about 3 minutes before I stopped weight-watching and piled it all back on. And this is how it's been for me. The fat girl says I'm not good enough and the skinny chick says I don't look all that bad. I don't look in mirrors, especially those 3 way kind where you can see your back. The back of my body from shoulders to knees is a problem. I don't listen to either one of them but they're whispering to me all the time.

Even when and if I ever reach 135# again, I won't be skinny. But I'll be good enough for middle aged. I'll still avoid looking at the rear view and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to squelch the skinny chick/fat girl debate going on in my head. The fat girl wants fed and the skinny chick wants to be pretty and in control. Unfortunately for me, they can't co-exist in peace. I will always miss the comfort of fudge, macaroni and cheese, meatloaf with mashed potatoes, pasta, pizza and warm chocolate chip cookies. Let';s face reality: cucumbers with hummus and high fiber granola bars will never replace the reassurance of the creamy, chewy fat-laden foods I love.

Nor can I separate the people I love from the foods I associate them with: Grandma Short and her lemon meringue pie and fried chicken, Grandma Skellenger and her blueberries and cream, raspberry milk and cinnamon toast. Even my mother-in-law with her pot roasts and homemade bread, my own mother and her unbelievable key lime pies. Dear sweet T, with his cream cheese pies and smoky ribs. I just know that there's more to love and relationships than food and the feelings it gives me. I've just got to learn how to relate to people without the food. I need to know how to celebrate without dinner and dessert. I need to know how to love someone without feeding them. I need peace with food. I need peace. I need food.

(Just not as much as I think.)

this Friday feels like Tuesday and I need a nap

I'm totally discombobulated. Being out of town Sun-Wed has messed up my schedule and so at 11:29 a.m. Friday I feel like it's only Tuesday morning and I wish it was Saturday afternoon so I could go take a nap until I feel better.

Remember when you'd get real cranky as a little kid and you'd start being super unreasonable because the dog licked you in the face or your brother made fun of you and your mom would say "I think someone needs a nap"? Oh yeah, then I'd start wailing "I doooooo nooooot neeeeed a naaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!" With tears down my cheeks and snot starting to run. Well, if my mom appeared out of no where right next to me and said that now I'd cry from relief. "Thank you mama, I do need a nap". And I'd toddle off with my favorite soft bankie and do it.

Man, I hate PMS.

just me -- stirred not shaken

A lot of stuff has happened in the last year or so and the latest thing, K's return to Lincoln, was a sudden, hard right that hurt almost more than anything I've ever experienced. It wasn't that she did -- a small part of me always believed she would. It's how it all came to happen that was such a smart slap in the face.

It's not the kind of hurt that heals quickly. If it hurts me this much I can't imagine what it's done to T but he's soldiering on in incredibly brave fashion and I think in some ways we're closer now than we were. I dream about the girls a lot now-- including a couple of vivid ones on this trip, made worse by that wierd disoriented feeling you have when you wake up in the middle of the night in a strange place. I dream of A regularly, on the road and at home. My dreams make me sad because the dreams are usually happy and I know it's just what I wish for and not what really is. I so wish she would call. I don't really expect she will.

On another topic, I managed to survive a 4 day trip out of town with my weight loss and my mind mostly intact. I have some seriously unattractive bruises from dropping boxes on myself, twisting my ankle in my cute boots and falling, and any number of other dumb human tricks I pulled these last 4 days. I never remember coming back from a trip feeling so beat up as I do this time. I am really out of shape. It was a good thing for all 3 of us that the trip was ending: I think we were all exhausted. Last night going from the convention center to the airport was stone silent, just watching the rain and the traffic and hoping against all hope we'd make the plane. It's good to work with friends who don't feel uncomfortable about the silences. Sometimes conversation just takes too much juice.

Anyway, home again. Back to some kind of normal work routine until a month from now when we head to San Diego for another show.

10 down

Since Sunday I've been in Nashville working at a trade show and I just want to say YEAH!!! I did it! I managed to keep off the weight I lost late last week for a total so far of -10.1# lost since the first of January. I don't know if I'll see the 140s by May as I'd hoped but I know it will be close and keeping the weight off while everyone's throwing cookies and candy at you for three days is a big win in my book.

I'm so ecstatically happy. Also very busy so I'll come back and do a real post later. Happy Thursday everyone!

sad little loss

The weight tracker up on top doesn't reflect fractions of pounds so it's rarely spot-on. I haven't quite lost 9#, more like 8.8. If you think that .2 pounds isn't important, that's all I lost this week.

I could have blown my nose really good and lost that much.

Losing weight isn't so bad if it's consistent but my losses have been all over the board and with a trade show to work Sun-Wed of next week I'm afraid the scale isn't going to be nice to me next Thursday when I finally make it home.

I am trying not to be sad. It's hard. It's a sad, lonely little .2# loss. It needed company.

Soon, soon, soon.

laser show

Almost forgot to mention, for the curious few, the laser thing went fine on Friday. I had a venous lake removed, basically a big ugly blue vein on my lower lip, left hand side. It's not gone but is now more like a faint grey bruise. I'm assured that if it's not gone in a month I can return for another shot of laser beam to rid myself of this thing for good.

The procedure itself was relatively pain free, like having someone stick me with a pin about 15 times, hard enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to really hurt. Worth every penny and pinprick if it's really gone by March...

Short ruminations on Valentine's Day

So is Valentine's Day a made up Hallmark holiday? An excuse for flower shops and restaurants to make a few extra bucks? There's a part of me that wants to remain above it all but then there's that other part that loves to have any reason to celebrate... Whether it's roses or a homemade card, I'm game for anything that comes my way and will just as enthusiastically search out the perfect expression of my own affection.

Valentine's Day has been celebrated since around 1400, the first commercial Valentine's greetings were popularized in the 1840s. I'm pretty sure that predates Hallmark and American Greetings so it seems that love expressions don't have to come with a red envelope and a $4.95 price tag. And who am I to buck 600 years of tradition anyway?

Beyond the horror of the classroom parties where you only got valentines because everyone had to give one to each kid in class, my Valentine's have been mostly good. I remember the Valentine's Days in high school sans boyfriend, when my girlfriends and I would comfort each other with dollar carnations sold by the student council. My best Valentine's Day, or at least the one I remember best, was a few years ago when T was on the road. I arrived home to find a bright red foil Russell Stover's box on the table. I was a little puzzled that the lid didn't seem to fit but figured he has snuck a piece. So I lifted the lid to find a black velvet ring box in the center and inside, a diamond cocktail ring (T is a big fan of Kay's holiday promotions. Bless the man who understands that jewelry is always appropriate!!)

So I will celebrate Valentine's Day with pleasure this year: I have a day to find a way to say "thanks" to the man who's put up with my butt for the last (almost) 13 years. It doesn't seem adequate but it will have to do for now.

oh yes, and ...

Someone said "you look pretty today -- but then you always look pretty". Now see, that just makes my day. See how easily flattered my middle aged self is?

Goody goody foody

I looked at my packed and carefully pre-planned breakfast and lunch this morning and realized that I have (gasp) started eating healthy again... and it's paying off... down 8.6 pounds in 5 weeks!

breakfast: fat free yogurt, Kashi chewy granola bar (which tastes a little like a piece of plywood), 4 points

lunch: Healthy Choice Chicken & pasta, cucumber with 2 tablespoons of garlic hummus, apple, 6.5 points

Dinner: probably a taco salad made with lettuce, 1/2 cup leftover chili, light sour cream, chopped onions, tomatoes, black olives, light queso dip and 13 Baked Tostitos. Also a light hot dog on a slice of light wheat bread. 9.5 points.

Snacks: a little weight watchers snack cake and maybe some sugar free Cheesecake pudding with fat free Cool Whip.

My Gosh, what happened to the Wendy's #1 combo with fries? Whither the pizza? The candy eaten with wild abandon?

Ah, well, looks like I can survive without that stuff after all.

God love America and our wretched excess!

As we were leaving Sam's Club on Saturday with our world record most expensive cart o' stuff ever, I had a few moments to reflect on the absolute excess of club stores. 40# of dog food, 40# of charcoal, 2 big plastic buckets filled with Baked Cheetos, enough grape tomatoes to string and decorate a Christmas Tree, a box of Tide that will keep our recently reduced household in clean undies for the next 9 months. There was other stuff, too, more than I care to recall. And then we went to WalMart to do our "real" shopping. One might look at our house and think we're children of the depression the way we hoard certain items. When I compare my 3' x 3 1/2' multi-roll package of paper towels to the single roll packages I saw in Spain, I'm ... so ... embarrassed. And a little giddy.

In another show of over-the-top American consumerism, let us reflect for a moment on the chili-and-chip-eating, rooted-to-the couch pastime that is the Superbowl. Only in America would companies throw down several million dollars for 30 seconds of TV time that consists of a pretty woman with a heaving bosom snapping the straps of her tiny shirt and some old guy hyperventilating. I still have no idea what godaddy.com is and if their commercials aren't outright offensive they're really stupid. But I did really like whoever had the commercial where the guy works with monkeys (and his friend works with jackasses). I have no idea what that product was either. But in a stunning win earned by blending brand, humor and frequency -- my declared Superbowl winner is Budweiser. Loved most of their spots and especially the Clydesdale spots (little one pulling the wagon and the football game/streaker spot). Bravo! Runner up? Disney World -- again with the frequency thing and the charming idea of the players rehearsing for their big moment in the spotlight. Makes me wonder why I'm not going to Disney World...

So now that we've snapped out of our food and football induced comas it can only mean one thing .... Speed Weeks. Ahhhh. More American excess, this time represented by big, loud, fast, fuel guzzling cars and sponsorships by beer, liquor and Little Debbies. Long live the USA!

One month update

One month since I restarted Weight Watchers - one month of obsessively tracking and planning and praying for the scale to budge. Freaking scale, what a tease. One time 164.3. The next time 165.6. The 165.5. OK so maybe I shouldn't just stand there, hopping on, hopping off, running to pee, hopping on again, making sure my hair is totally dry, taking my glasses off. Maybe I've gotten a little wierd on that count. This is nothing new, the wierdness.

But really, really, I have lost 6.1 pounds this month. It's not exactly like I got dealt a Blackjack or anything, but it's a solid "19" and I feel good about it. 6 pounds per month and by May I'll be 147 pounds again... and if I can hang in a little longer, by July I could be in the 130s. Unthinkable. Yet .... doable.

So, I feel good. My clothes still don't fit but underneath my winter fat, I'm a butterfly...

College Bands

I wasn't much of a music connoisseur in college -- I actually missed the ultimate college band -- REM-- all together since I was dating a guy whose tastes tended toward Wynton Marsalis, Spyro Gyra and Mannheim Steamroller. I guess I listened to what he listened to. But my junior year I started dating another guy who loved rock and knew a little something about the local talent. Through him I was introduced to Melissa Etheridge (when she had just released her first album and was still a "local" act) and the Rainmakers.

I thought about the Rainmakers today because the lyrics to a song called "Small Circles" just sort of came in to my head. The lyrics don't directly pertain to me but the idea of the song is how my life feels right now -- just moving in small circles, just sort of killing time until issues get resolved and things can move on. Small circles aren't productive but they're sort of comforting. So is thinking of old memories and listening to old songs that help me remember happier times. I guess that's why we still love our college bands, even after we've grown up.

Small Circles - The Rainmakers
She reached out, and twist my hand
And made me dance to some local band
But the beat was slow, so there we stand
As we move in small circles

We cut out before the night was through
Start my car and we drove the Loop
Talked about the things we were going through
As we move in small circles
We move in small circles

She said she didn't know the ways of love
I said "Neither do I; I thought you'd show me some"
We dilly-dallied like that for 6 or 8 months
As we move in small circles

A couple of times she stayed with me
And we worked it out on a single sheet
I can hear every painful squeak
As we move in small circles
We move in small circles

And she grew up, and I grew up
And she got tough, and I got tough
So much for love, so much for love
As we move in small circles

Now we make money, and we're all right
And we drive cars and wield our might
We make love to people that we don't even like
As we move in small circles
We move in small circles

And I don't even think about her now
I just said all this to be workin' my mouth
I wish I cared, but I don't know how
As we move in small circles
We move in small circles
We move in small circles
We move in small circles