I got ringworm. And it was gross.
Not what you were expecting? Poor you, I had a fungus. Goodbye.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Pancakes
I'd like to know how many other people have pancakes as their go-to snack food.
Like hi, it's a takes a significant effort to make pancakes. I have to get out the box, measure out a cup of the mix, beat in an egg, add the milk and stir. Then I have to cook it. Okay, so its not a significant effort, but its not opening a bag of chips and plopping down on the couch.
The strangest part to me is that I have so much time to talk myself out of it - from the moment I grab the box to the moment I dip the pancake into syrup (with my hand of course, I don't use a fork).
And then when it's all over, I want to throw up. Because I've usually had several snacks before this. The second "pancakes" pops into my head, I try to convince myself it's not a good idea by eating "better" snacks. But eventually, I lose and the pancakes win.
So, I ask you, am I alone in this?
Like hi, it's a takes a significant effort to make pancakes. I have to get out the box, measure out a cup of the mix, beat in an egg, add the milk and stir. Then I have to cook it. Okay, so its not a significant effort, but its not opening a bag of chips and plopping down on the couch.
The strangest part to me is that I have so much time to talk myself out of it - from the moment I grab the box to the moment I dip the pancake into syrup (with my hand of course, I don't use a fork).
And then when it's all over, I want to throw up. Because I've usually had several snacks before this. The second "pancakes" pops into my head, I try to convince myself it's not a good idea by eating "better" snacks. But eventually, I lose and the pancakes win.
So, I ask you, am I alone in this?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Snow Day Shmo Day
Okay so clearly I can't be trusted in a house by myself for more than a few hours.
The man of the house is away again, and I've been cooped up in the apartment during these snow storms. Being on WW, I knew this would be a challenge. I just didn't know how much of a challenge. I'd like to now take you through the last 30 hours of my stupid life.
Yesterday at work I had a perfect day. Wrote down everything I ate, which included items like cream of wheat, salad, apple, a banana and a diet coke. Skipped the gym, came straight home to an empty house, and snapped. Spoonfuls of coolwhip. One million pistachio nuts. Bowl of Frosted Flakes for an appetizer. Pancakes for dinner. Chips and salsa for dessert.
Disgusted yet? Woke up today to a full day of being trapped in an empty house. Stepped on the scale and cursed myself, thought about my vacation coming up in a month, and vowed to have a better day. So I started off with some frozen whole-grain waffles. Which is insane to be begin with. I had three, to be exact, which officially cancels out any good the whole-grain was doing for me. Then around lunch time I ate some home-made low-carb pita chips and hummus, ew. Then swapped the hummus for salsa and ate the last 1/8 of the bag of chips. Then got into the pistachio bag again and ate half a million more.
Help.
Then, I started daydreaming and when I came-to I realized I had been shoveling in handfuls of Frosted Flakes straight from the box. Apples dipped in peanut butter- have to get my fruits in ya know?? Then I did something nuts, and actually cooked a real meal for myself. Shrimp scampi with broccoli over angel hair. Except I meant to save some for lunch tomorrow, since I cooked a huge portion, but devoured all of it. I then had a fruit bar and a 100-calorie pack for dessert.
I. AM. OUT. OF. CONTROL and I want to throw up and cry and run 30 miles, but I won't. Instead, I'll sit watching tv and just pray for JR to hurry up and get the F home so I can get back to normal.
I have a serious problem. Goodbye.
The man of the house is away again, and I've been cooped up in the apartment during these snow storms. Being on WW, I knew this would be a challenge. I just didn't know how much of a challenge. I'd like to now take you through the last 30 hours of my stupid life.
Yesterday at work I had a perfect day. Wrote down everything I ate, which included items like cream of wheat, salad, apple, a banana and a diet coke. Skipped the gym, came straight home to an empty house, and snapped. Spoonfuls of coolwhip. One million pistachio nuts. Bowl of Frosted Flakes for an appetizer. Pancakes for dinner. Chips and salsa for dessert.
Disgusted yet? Woke up today to a full day of being trapped in an empty house. Stepped on the scale and cursed myself, thought about my vacation coming up in a month, and vowed to have a better day. So I started off with some frozen whole-grain waffles. Which is insane to be begin with. I had three, to be exact, which officially cancels out any good the whole-grain was doing for me. Then around lunch time I ate some home-made low-carb pita chips and hummus, ew. Then swapped the hummus for salsa and ate the last 1/8 of the bag of chips. Then got into the pistachio bag again and ate half a million more.
Help.
Then, I started daydreaming and when I came-to I realized I had been shoveling in handfuls of Frosted Flakes straight from the box. Apples dipped in peanut butter- have to get my fruits in ya know?? Then I did something nuts, and actually cooked a real meal for myself. Shrimp scampi with broccoli over angel hair. Except I meant to save some for lunch tomorrow, since I cooked a huge portion, but devoured all of it. I then had a fruit bar and a 100-calorie pack for dessert.
I. AM. OUT. OF. CONTROL and I want to throw up and cry and run 30 miles, but I won't. Instead, I'll sit watching tv and just pray for JR to hurry up and get the F home so I can get back to normal.
I have a serious problem. Goodbye.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Scaredy Cat
Recently I began wondering for how much longer I will remain afraid of an empty house.
When I was younger and someone would ring my home door bell, I used to wonder why mum would freak out and shriek "DON'T ANSWER IT! DO YOU KNOW WHO IT IS? ASK WHO IT IS FIRST!" Since I've always been humiliated by the idea of yelling back and forth through a door, I would ignore her and answer.
But now I get it. I have been very lucky to never have had my apartment door bell rung. And if I ever do, that person will be out of luck; I don't even dare peak, that's how certain I am that the bell ringer is coming to do horrible things to me.
Like I've said before, I'm 27. That's pretty adult. Yet, when I go to the basement and try to find my way into the dark laundry room, I am absolutely convinced someone is in there waiting for me. When I'm finally in there, I am absolutely convinced someone followed me in. And while I'm fighting off those fears, God forbid I hear a creak upstairs. Because obviously that means someone snuck into my house and is waiting for me to crawl back up those stairs so they can murder me. What's the solution? Doing laundry when the boyfriend is home. What happens when the boyfriend is away for a month straight? Lots of perfume and the underwear with holes in them. They're not old, just cheap. I have Daisy Fuentes' Kohls collection to thank for that.
I also try really hard not to have to pee when I'm alone in my apartment. I have never once went into the bathroom feeling confident that there was no one behind the shower curtain. On the extra scary days, I check. On the lazier days, I pray. I feel like I might need a plan for the days that I check. If I ever pull that curtain back to find someone staring back at me, that will be a very unfortunate situation for me as I have no plan.
Anyone who looks out through a dark window at night for more than half a second is a courageous, fearless hero as far as I'm concerned.
Right now there is a weird cop that's been sitting on his bike outside of my apartment for more than 3 hours. I'm convinced he'll be breaking in here tonight. Or tomorrow night, since I was just informed I'll be spending the night here alone.
Which brings me to another awful situation: sleeping in a house or apartment by myself. I just can't think of anything worse. There is no sound, creek, stillness, or movement of air that I can ignore. I do have a move though: whether I'm doing the dishes, peeing, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, or laying in bed - if i hear anything out of the ordinary, I freeze. I freeze as is or I hit the deck. And I stay frozen for several minutes - maybe even ten- until I am absolutely 100% positive that it's probably nothing. And I hope that will always be the case, because the statue move will never save my life.
So I'm really praying for several things here: no visitors, no hidden bathtub guests, and a roommate who never, ever, ever leaves me alone in the house overnight.
Normal?
When I was younger and someone would ring my home door bell, I used to wonder why mum would freak out and shriek "DON'T ANSWER IT! DO YOU KNOW WHO IT IS? ASK WHO IT IS FIRST!" Since I've always been humiliated by the idea of yelling back and forth through a door, I would ignore her and answer.
But now I get it. I have been very lucky to never have had my apartment door bell rung. And if I ever do, that person will be out of luck; I don't even dare peak, that's how certain I am that the bell ringer is coming to do horrible things to me.
Like I've said before, I'm 27. That's pretty adult. Yet, when I go to the basement and try to find my way into the dark laundry room, I am absolutely convinced someone is in there waiting for me. When I'm finally in there, I am absolutely convinced someone followed me in. And while I'm fighting off those fears, God forbid I hear a creak upstairs. Because obviously that means someone snuck into my house and is waiting for me to crawl back up those stairs so they can murder me. What's the solution? Doing laundry when the boyfriend is home. What happens when the boyfriend is away for a month straight? Lots of perfume and the underwear with holes in them. They're not old, just cheap. I have Daisy Fuentes' Kohls collection to thank for that.
I also try really hard not to have to pee when I'm alone in my apartment. I have never once went into the bathroom feeling confident that there was no one behind the shower curtain. On the extra scary days, I check. On the lazier days, I pray. I feel like I might need a plan for the days that I check. If I ever pull that curtain back to find someone staring back at me, that will be a very unfortunate situation for me as I have no plan.
Anyone who looks out through a dark window at night for more than half a second is a courageous, fearless hero as far as I'm concerned.
Right now there is a weird cop that's been sitting on his bike outside of my apartment for more than 3 hours. I'm convinced he'll be breaking in here tonight. Or tomorrow night, since I was just informed I'll be spending the night here alone.
Which brings me to another awful situation: sleeping in a house or apartment by myself. I just can't think of anything worse. There is no sound, creek, stillness, or movement of air that I can ignore. I do have a move though: whether I'm doing the dishes, peeing, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, or laying in bed - if i hear anything out of the ordinary, I freeze. I freeze as is or I hit the deck. And I stay frozen for several minutes - maybe even ten- until I am absolutely 100% positive that it's probably nothing. And I hope that will always be the case, because the statue move will never save my life.
So I'm really praying for several things here: no visitors, no hidden bathtub guests, and a roommate who never, ever, ever leaves me alone in the house overnight.
Normal?
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Kisses of Death
Let me preface this by saying I've been less than successful with my new diet.
The other day at lunchtime, I left work to buy something quick for lunch at CVS. I walked in with the intention of buying a lean cuisine pizza, and left the store with a lean cuisine and a bag of cordial cherry hershey kisses.
Huge mistake.
I ate my lunch, then started in on the bag of kisses. Fully aware that this situation could quickly become out of control, I started giving a few away here and there. I still continued to eat enough to make me nauseous, I'd say almost half the bag. At one point, I looked into my trash and saw just a million crumpled up hershey wrappers. For fear that one of my cube members might come by and see, I threw some large pieces of paper into the trash and rearranged everything so that the wrappers weren't as visible. Come 5:00, I had gotten away with eating 20 hershey kisses without anyone noticing and it was time to go home.
Day 2.
Around 11:00am, I remembered the rest of the hershey kisses were in my drawer and abandoned my diet once again. By 3:00, I had eaten about 12 hershey kisses (maybe more), again feeling nauseous. A co-worker who knew I had hershey kisses came by to ask for some more. Relieved, I told him to take a lot. "There's only 2 in here" he said. "What?? Wow that's nuts, they've been going fast."
It was then that he decided to eat it while standing at my cube. He went to throw out the wrapper in my trash, and then froze - his eyes glued to the inside of the trash bag.
There have been very few times in my life when the level of humiliation I felt was actually equal to the level of humiliation another person felt for me. This was one of them. So I laughed too loud and muttered a few words awkwardly about eating a lot that day. He sensed my embarrassment, laughed, and left me alone in my own puddle of shame.
So, yes, this was one of the more embarrassing things that's happened to me in later years. But instead of dwelling on it, I'll walk away having learned a very valuable lesson.
Wrappers belong in my purse.
The other day at lunchtime, I left work to buy something quick for lunch at CVS. I walked in with the intention of buying a lean cuisine pizza, and left the store with a lean cuisine and a bag of cordial cherry hershey kisses.
Huge mistake.
I ate my lunch, then started in on the bag of kisses. Fully aware that this situation could quickly become out of control, I started giving a few away here and there. I still continued to eat enough to make me nauseous, I'd say almost half the bag. At one point, I looked into my trash and saw just a million crumpled up hershey wrappers. For fear that one of my cube members might come by and see, I threw some large pieces of paper into the trash and rearranged everything so that the wrappers weren't as visible. Come 5:00, I had gotten away with eating 20 hershey kisses without anyone noticing and it was time to go home.
Day 2.
Around 11:00am, I remembered the rest of the hershey kisses were in my drawer and abandoned my diet once again. By 3:00, I had eaten about 12 hershey kisses (maybe more), again feeling nauseous. A co-worker who knew I had hershey kisses came by to ask for some more. Relieved, I told him to take a lot. "There's only 2 in here" he said. "What?? Wow that's nuts, they've been going fast."
It was then that he decided to eat it while standing at my cube. He went to throw out the wrapper in my trash, and then froze - his eyes glued to the inside of the trash bag.
There have been very few times in my life when the level of humiliation I felt was actually equal to the level of humiliation another person felt for me. This was one of them. So I laughed too loud and muttered a few words awkwardly about eating a lot that day. He sensed my embarrassment, laughed, and left me alone in my own puddle of shame.
So, yes, this was one of the more embarrassing things that's happened to me in later years. But instead of dwelling on it, I'll walk away having learned a very valuable lesson.
Wrappers belong in my purse.
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Last Cake
Holidays are over. Vacation is booked for March. Diet starts today.
That said, I ate everything in sight this weekend, and made use of one of my best gifts knowing it would be my last chance.
Mini-cake set, I'll see you in April.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
I'm F'ing Old
I'm 27 years old. Twenty seven and 30 practically touch when you right them down. I'm finding that different things anger me, different things excite me, and I think differently in terms of my every day life than I have in my younger years.
I finally found a garlic press that works really well and I feel like I've really won the game of life.
I don't have any clothes in my closet that say "i'm sexy" aside from one shirt I've had for 4 years that shows decent cleavage.
I feel one glass of wine.
I cooked popcorn on the stove last night by heating the kernels in some oil and now feel like I'm a little bit more qualified for motherhood.
Looking back on the last year, the only times I've danced have been at weddings.
Still looking back, the only times I've been drunk have been at weddings.
I have guilt over not vacuuming in over a month.
"This tastes so good" has the same effect that "You're so hot" used to.
I refuse to go to fanueil hall bars. If you're female, there's no difference between being 27 and 45.
I have been saying things like, "when I was in highschool we didn't dress like that..." and "that must be a new thing among college girls, because when I was that age...". woof.
When I go out for drinks I am still in bed by 10pm.
All I want for Christmas is my Kitchenaid mixer.
...and some slippers for around the house.
The first night JR and I spent together in this apartment, I came home so excited to make him our first dinner. He told me he already ate hot dogs because he was hungry, and I cried for 30 minutes straight.
Heels... what are those?
I cook roast beef. Boom.
After seeing a lady trying to calm down her younger daughter with a severe mental disability, I sat quietly on the T and visualized having a healthy uterus where a healthy baby could grow.
...did things just get weird? Whatevs, I'm old. You probably are too so shut it.
I finally found a garlic press that works really well and I feel like I've really won the game of life.
I don't have any clothes in my closet that say "i'm sexy" aside from one shirt I've had for 4 years that shows decent cleavage.
I feel one glass of wine.
I cooked popcorn on the stove last night by heating the kernels in some oil and now feel like I'm a little bit more qualified for motherhood.
Looking back on the last year, the only times I've danced have been at weddings.
Still looking back, the only times I've been drunk have been at weddings.
I have guilt over not vacuuming in over a month.
"This tastes so good" has the same effect that "You're so hot" used to.
I refuse to go to fanueil hall bars. If you're female, there's no difference between being 27 and 45.
I have been saying things like, "when I was in highschool we didn't dress like that..." and "that must be a new thing among college girls, because when I was that age...". woof.
When I go out for drinks I am still in bed by 10pm.
All I want for Christmas is my Kitchenaid mixer.
...and some slippers for around the house.
The first night JR and I spent together in this apartment, I came home so excited to make him our first dinner. He told me he already ate hot dogs because he was hungry, and I cried for 30 minutes straight.
Heels... what are those?
I cook roast beef. Boom.
After seeing a lady trying to calm down her younger daughter with a severe mental disability, I sat quietly on the T and visualized having a healthy uterus where a healthy baby could grow.
...did things just get weird? Whatevs, I'm old. You probably are too so shut it.
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