The Therapy Journals of the Fat-Headed Klingon Woman

One woman's journey to becoming Her True Self

Dobby the House Elf, a Goat, a Gecko, and an AK-47 October 4, 2012

Mediterranean House Gecko (Hemidactylus turcic...

 

 

Hello all.  I know, it’s an odd assortment of items to be grouped together in a title, right?  Of course it is.  That title has been floating through my head almost every day for weeks.  And that would be because these items (in plastic miniature, obvs) have been on the shelves in my shower for that long.

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It’s curious, the things that show up in your life when you have a little boy in your house.  Little boys enjoy collecting things like bottle caps and making folded paper ninja stars and dragon claws.  They are all about guns and war, blood, guts, death and destruction.  At least mine is.  He learning all about WWII with the help of several books and videos his dear Grandma got him from the Bookmobile at the library.  He also wants to learn to speak Korean because we watch M*A*S*H on DVD all the time.  And he wants to learn Spanish so he can really get the most out of the Puss In Boots movie.

 

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In addition to the green plastic reptile that seems to have taken up permanent residence in the shower, The Boy also recently got a big kick out of the discovery of some real geckos- tiny little Mediterranean House Geckos that hang around the building where I work.  (He comes to work with me most days and does his homeschooling there.  We can get away with that because I work in a church building where I’m basically the only person there about 70% of the time.  It’s awesome.)  Anyway, we walked in the door one day, and one of those little guys was crawling along the floor in front of the shelf right inside the door.  He chased it and caught it, but after a few minutes and the loss of one stripe-y little gecko tail, I convinced him to let the poor thing go.  Not too long after that, he found another one in the shelf on the other side of the door, and we made it a nifty little house out of two styrofoam cups taped together.  The Boy brought the little guy home to show his sisters, and then he let that one go, too.  But in the meantime, we looked on the internet and found out all about him, where he came from, what he ate, and everything.  (That’s how we knew for sure what kind it was.)

 

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Anyway.  I guess I’m not really sure what kind of connection Dobby and the goat have in all of this, except that they just make for a funny list.  And it’s just funny what kinds of things end up in your shower when kids are around, and how when you’re doing self-directed learning homeschool, you have freedom undreamed of in a learn-by-rote, teach-to-the-test, NCLB public school classroom.  Freedom both exhilarating and terrifying.  But at least every day is an adventure.

 

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Until next time,

 

D.

 

 

 

Allure Trip Journal: Final Installment- The Last Morning, Disembarkation, and the Flight Home! June 18, 2012

DFW

DFW (Photo credit: ksbuehler)

Hello again. Nearing the end… : (

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I let the kids sleep in as long as I dared, and we went to the WJ for breakfast. (This part is totally pathetic, but we were all tickled pink to be back in the US where we could use our phones! All three of us girls had ’em whipped out and were texting like mad over our eggs and danishes! LOL!) My mom had already been up and watching the webcam and marveling again about how big the ship is. I have a picture of Daughter S. with a whole muffin stuck in her mouth like a roasted pig with an apple, but it’s on the one memory card I haven’t managed to upload yet- the micro one from my phone.
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After breakfast we consulted the oh-so-convenient digital signage that tells you where you are to wait for your number to be called to leave the ship. We were assigned to go to MDR deck 5. We went down, and rather than wander around looking for a table, we plopped ourselves down right at the entrance behind the danish and coffee table. Yeah, it might have been a little rednecky, but we set a trend. We were the first, and a couple other people followed suit shortly after. The father of this family was a rather cranky old soul, and by the time they called our number, I was ready to jump out the window if I’d had to listen to his voice one more second.
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So we waited about 45 minutes and they called our number- 75. We got off the ship and into the luggage area, only to find that we’d had a Group Moron Moment, and our number was not 75, but 72! So we could have gotten off a little sooner if I weren’t such a scatterbrain! Oh well. What can you do, eh?

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Unfortunately, here is where our experience went sour. One of our bags was missing. I knew the minute I saw the ones that WERE there, that the missing one… also happened to be the one with the seashells in it. Oooooohhh boy! I began to be ever so slightly terrified that our bag was missing precisely because it had shells in it, and I would be concluding my vacation with a nice little stay at the Gray Bar Hotel. We searched and searched, checked the Lost Luggage area, waited, wandered, asked a few different people, and finally decided to give up. We went through customs (me still shaking inwardly, wondering if they had somehow flagged me and I’d be stopped at that point. I wasn’t). So we went outside and up to the first agent we saw and told them we still hadn’t found our bag.
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Apparently some breakdown in procedure had happened here, because the first 2 or 5 people we had talked to inside should have directed us to the ‘fill out the correct form’ desk, but we managed to get outside without having to do this, and we were sent right back in the front door. Then we were sent OUT the front door and alllllll the way down to the Day Visitors door to fill out the form. Talked to some guy with a walkie talkie who seemed to be listening to someone on the other end telling him that some bags were still in customs. Again… oooooohhh boy.
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So I filled out the form and we waited around for a few minutes, and I began to be further terrified that we would miss our flight. The kids were a little distraught at this point, especially S. She of course, being the wisest and most discerning among my three little munchkins, was quite upset that this would happen to us. The other two were just kinda like, “How long is this gonna take again?”
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After a while, I decided that we’d better just go. It was 10:45 and our flight was at noon. We left the room and trotted as fast as we safely could without running, alllllll the way down to the end of the terminal where the taxi line is, got in the line, and tried to just breathe. The kids at this point were like, “Ok, so we’re leaving without it. How are we gonna get our stuff?” and I said I hadn’t the foggiest. I was trying not to have a weeping meltdown at this point. What a crappy end to a great trip.
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Finally we got in a cab. I did my usual thing of asking the driver if he was doing ok, and he just kind of shrugged and mumbled. We made it to the airport. (Fare was $15.90 and I gave the guy a $20, in case you’re interested.) We checked our luggage at the curb, because I didn’t know you could do it inside, and we got stuck behind these two women traveling together who had the wrong luggage with the wrong ticket, or something, but finally we got inside. I felt a little lost, because it seemed like there were no employees anywhere, and I went up to the desk to ask where in heck we were supposed to go. [ETA: I had used the Flight Check In kiosk late the night before, which was quick, convenient, and no complaints.] I got directed in the right direction, and we went through security. The kids went through ahead of me and I somehow started talking to this lady and telling her what had been happening, and it was here that the stress finally got to me and I began to cry.
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I went tearfully through the rest of security, and got my shoes back on, and we found a place to sit and wait. This terminal, I might add, was nowhere near as well-appointed as DFW’s was- it was tiny and crowded and stress-inducing, but maybe that was just because of where my overall stress level already was. Right before boarding I ran and bought some gum and some water and Chex Mix. We stepped onto the plane and I immediately began to need to pee. But I was in the middle seat with Daughter J. on my left and some cute kid from Nebraska who had been on a Carnival cruise to the Bahamas on my right, and so I just put it out of my mind.
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Toward the end of the flight, I desperately needed to go, but the kid was asleep and I just decided I’d suffer until we landed. Finally we made it, and I waited patiently before standing up until most of the plane was already clear (may not have mentioned that on our first flight, I stood up as soon as we stopped moving, and I felt like a moron still stuck waiting there for everyone to clear ahead of me. Live and learn.)
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Once again on a Bathroom Mission, I apparently went sailing right past my dad, who saw us come off the plane and waved like crazy, but we were oblivious and finally spotted him again closer to the luggage claim area. The kids made a mad dash and we swarmed him and hugged him, and then a little farther on, Mom was sitting there too, in the row of seats against the wall, and we ran for her too, and I have to confess here, that although I will be 40 years old in September, I have never been so glad to see my mommy and daddy in my entire life! I wanted to cry with relief!
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So we claimed our luggage, got out of the airport, went for lunch at Cracker Barrel, and headed North! Stopped at the WalMart in Gainesville to pick up a few things that J. needed, because get this: we were taking the poor child straight from the airport to a week of church camp! Finally, we got home, dragged everything inside, and started trying to refresh, renew, and recuperate.
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***Ta-Dah!***
Things I learned:
1) If it’s not formal night, almost anything goes in the MDR, but it really does look a little sloppy to go in there in shorts and t-shirts.
2) I only noticed what people were wearing because of the CC boards.
3) Give your luggage to the first person who asks.
4) Every time it occurs to you to do something, go ahead and do it, because you may not remember to come back to it.
5) The wild animal species LoungeChairius Hoggus does exist, but the FoodLine-icus Defenderus is much more prevalent and vicious.
6) Never again with Character Vacations unless the people I’m with are prepared to Divide and Conquer the character search on their own time!
7) Powerstrip is definitely a must (didn’t have) and we forgot to even try to use the Ipod dock. We had a wall charger with 4 USB ports for that. We had an alarm clock, but I never needed it because I always wake up at around 6:30 on my own no matter what.
8) We apparently scored the Triple Crown Trifecta of family travel: three women in the family and nobody was on their “Girl Time”!
Things I took and didn’t need:
1) Dollar Store rain ponchos (it rained a couple of times on ship, but if we hadn’t stayed out of the rain we might have just enjoyed dancing in it. You never know. Although now that I think of it, they would have been great at Sailaway! Duh!)
2) Clothes pins. (never saw a clothes line)
3) curling iron, nail polish and remover, and other beauty items like hair combs, pins, and so on. (You just can’t make a bunch of girly-girls out of a bunch of low-maintenance country girls, even on Formal Night!)
4) Highlighter- nope, never used it. I either circled stuff in pencil or just carried the compass around and referred to it frequently.
 
5) Workout clothes- Duh, goes without saying. (Here is the promised confession of the result of my incredible gluttony: For the two weeks between the Tuesday before we left and the Tuesday after we came back [Weight Watchers meetings are on Tuesday] I showed a gain of an incredible 15 lbs.! But I am happy to say that in the ONE week after we were back, I made such good choices I took off the entire 15, plus a few ounces, which tells me that the VAST majority of it was nothing but water retention.)
6) Sunscreen- not all of it, just two or three extra bottles I could have done without, seeing as we didn’t spend a ton of time on the pool deck, and when we did, it was after dark!
7) Extra swimsuits. I didn’t end up getting to swim all that much, either on ship or in port, and I had about 4 or 5 with me and only two ever made it onto my body.
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And so we come to the end of our journey. If I forgot to revisit any subject I promised to revisit, (and in case you’re interested) please ask any questions you have. If you have any other questions, just let me know, and I’ll try to remember.
Regarding what we’ve been up to since the cruise: We picked J. up from church camp last Saturday the 9th and went straight up to Oklahoma City for my baby sister’s wedding. It was beautiful.  We now have a few days before we leave for a road trip to a family reunion in Colorado that I’m very much looking forward to, and when we get back from THAT, I need to immerse myself in paperwork for Daughter S.’s college and The Boy’s online public school that we’re going to try this next year.
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I don’t know when we’ll get to cruise again. I like to think that I will eventually get to go again someday, with someone, but if it never happens, I had this one golden memory of a trip with my babies at a special crossroads in our lives.
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Thank you for being with me!
Until next time,
D.

 

Night and Day, and the Difference Between the Two November 17, 2011

Compact Disc

Image via Wikipedia

Hello all!  Yes, I realize it’s been a dog’s age since I updated.  I apologize.  Really.  Things are so different now than they had been at the time of my last few posts.  Some things are better, some not so better, but right now I am on an upward spike in the old mood graph, so let’s just go with that, shall we?  The biggest, most awesome news  is that I escaped from my job!  Yes, Virginia, I actually broke free of the cult-like pull of a place I had been for 10 years and took a step in a new and different direction, and it’s not even teaching high school English!  The new job is kind of in a field all it’s own.  You could call it ministry, you could call it television/radio broadcasting, but basically I am the new secretary for an evangelistic tv program called The Gospel of Christ.  It is under the supervision of the elders at one of the churches of Christ here.  I have a wide range of duties, including your usual secretary stuff, answering phones, taking messages, but in addition to that, I package and ship all the CDs and DVDs that go out, I enter donations received and pay the bills and do payroll and taxes, I order supplies, I send the media to our tv and radio stations, I burn the discs from new master recordings, design and print the disc labels, send out supporter letters, etc.

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So yeah, it’s definitely a departure from the Trained Monkey world I was in before.  And best of all… no crazy co-worker who hates me!  I’m in a Christian environment, with people who are young and energetic and passionate about what they are doing.  I’m learning new things that challenge my brain, and I am literally working for God!  It’s pretty awesome.

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Despite its numerous advantages though, there are a few drawbacks, extremely minor in nature.  I’m now putting the same number of work hours per week into 5 days instead of 6, plus I am still at my old job on Saturdays through the end of the year.  That means I have to be at work earlier in the day, which has rather wrought havoc with my exercise schedule.  I have dropped out of TurboKick class for a month or two because I am trying to get caught up on bills while also saving money for the girls’ birthday and Christmas.  In addition to that, the pay raise looks great on paper, but only resulted in about a $50 per paycheck increase in my net pay.  Not what I was hoping for, but it will do for now.  (I expect that when things settle down around here after the transition, they will realize they can afford to give me a substantial raise.)  The major negative about this job is that it does involve a lot of sitting on my caboose, which was not something I got to do very often at my old job.  This in turn makes me worry about the likelihood that my caboose will notice an increase in mass and volume, translating to an increase in size, which will make me very unhappy.  More on that in a minute.  Another drawback is that certain relationships at my old work, long and generally amiable relationships, have, I fear, suffered irreparable damage by my leaving and the timing of it all.  Coming up on Christmas in the pack and ship business, it’s kind of a kick in the teeth to a boss you’ve worked for, for more than 10 years, to suddenly take a new job on only a week’s notice. (But in all fairness, it was a now or never kind of thing.)  Worse, I’m no longer as close as I was to the few people there I did like, and worst, I was left out of a raise that was given to everybody else the week after I stopped being there full time, even though I’m still working Saturdays through the rest of the year.  That hurt, let me tell ya. I still haven’t had a talk with the boss about that one, but will hopefully have a chance to do so while I’m there this Saturday.

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All in all, though, it has been a change for the better, I think.  I don’t know what to expect about how long I will be here or where this will take me, but I am hoping that eventually it might become a part-time job that I do in addition to being a Weight Watchers leader and writer.  I have continued to attend Weight Watchers meetings, even though I honestly feel I have been sort of “phoning it in” for a while now.  By that I mean I haven’t really, truly dedicated myself to staying on Plan, but have been eating almost whatever I want, not counting the points, and depending on the 4x a week Turbo classes to keep me out of trouble.  I realized with a significant degree of dismay that this was not going to work for me any longer when I dropped out of turbo and gained weight two weeks in a row!  (By the way, I know only two weeks ago I was all fired up about Simply Recommitting and getting back on track with WW, but unfortunately I had not been able to make it happen until this week.)

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In case anybody was wondering when I was going to get around to it, the title of this post is a figurative reference both to how much happier I am at this new job versus where I was before, and also the difference a little extra motion makes in my weight loss journey.  But I am actually trying to look at this short break from Turbo as a good time to get back to essentials on the WW plan.  I want to really re-familiarize myself with the PointsPlus values of foods so that the overall picture stays clear in my head.  That probably makes absolutely no sense to anybody.  But the title is also referring to the difference between yesterday and today for me, because yesterday was one of those days that I think we all have every now and then (I hope to goodness I’m not the only one!) where we just sort of hate ourselves and our lives and everything we own!  That sounds pretty extreme, but in all honesty, The Boy and his twins sisters have been driving me berserk lately with their constant bickering and fussing, their complete lack of motivation to be much help around the house, and their entitled attitude in general.   In addition to that, my car kept dying when I was taking the kids to school, I couldn’t find any decent clothes to wear, and I had lost my temper with The Boy before we even left the house.

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Today, on the other hand, I’ve been in a great mood, didn’t mind my clothes (or lack thereof), the car didn’t die, and I got the kids out of the house and taken to school without any major breakdowns!  Furthermore, today at work has been a lot of fun, what with the guys trying to re-build and decorate the studio set and a few other goofy mishaps, and I’ve stayed on plan with WW, so it’s just been a much better day than tomorrow.  And isn’t that always a blessing?!

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Until next time,

D.

 

 

 

Miley Cyrus Immersion/Aversion Therapy and Other Tortures July 20, 2011

Hello all.  Let me start off by saying I’m NOT a Miley-hater.  I’ll just get that out on the table right off the bat, because the title of tonight’s post could be somewhat misleading.  I just chose that as the name for what I’m doing at this very moment.  (Besides blogging.)  Ok, backstory.  I had listened to one of her songs on my way to work this morning, and then a few hours ago when I got home from church, that same song was still stuck in my head.  So I thought the only way to get that song out of my head is to just pull up iTunes and listen to it, right?  So I did that, and then I just let it continue to play all her songs that we have in our library.  Daughter J. was a big fan at one time.  Yeah.  There’s a lot.  So I figure I’ll either get it all out of my system or I’ll drive myself nuts and wind up in an institution. 

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I’m kidding.  I don’t have a problem with the girl.  I actually enjoy most of her songs, even from her Hannah Montana days.  Ok, so I don’t have very discerning taste in music!  Moving on.  The other tortures I was going to talk about have sort of resolved themselves.  I was hungry but didn’t feel like eating.  I realize this doesn’t sound much like torture, but when you’re “doing Weight Watchers” and you know you’re supposed to be eating healthy, you hate to just take the quickest, easiest thing if it’s not going to be both healthy and satisfying.  I finally did have some tuna spaghett leftovers Daughter S. made, followed by some grapes for dessert, and it was a good meal.  I just have no idea how to track it.  Tracking is its own special torture.  I always know that if I don’t do it, I won’t have a good loss, because I am NOT a good estimater.  Speaking of my loss, this week’s loss brings me to (drumroll……) 111.5 lbs since January 2010.  Not a typo.  One hundred eleven.  I’m excited and pleased and proud, but I also have to repeat the feat, as I still have just under that much to lose to get to my goal.  So daunting, but also not, because I’m halfway there.

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Back on the topic of tortures, I discovered an old message I had overlooked on a popular social networking site that made me want to run my mouth and tell people off and make a donkey of myself again.  That urge is particularly torturous because this is a 17 year-old child we’re talking about, and it is completely pointless and futile and definitely nonproductive.  Teenage drama.  Oy.  I hope I outgrow it someday!  Maybe choosing not to respond to the aforementioned message in any way (except mentioning it here) is a step in that direction. 

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Another torture that’s not really a torture, but gives me something to talk about, is the adventure run/mud run/warrior dash 5k I’ve got coming up- The Dirty 30.  It’s Saturday, July 30.  I’ve never done a 5k before, let alone one that includes mud and obstacles!  I can’t wait to see what it’s like, but I’m also nervous.  I’m particularly concerned about the obstacles.  Wondering if I’ll be able to get through, over, under, and past them without bodily injury or humiliation.  My counselor said I should go to the local park and climb things.   Any things!  Things that involve the upper body.  Just for practice, you know.   I’ve only got a week and a half, so I’d better get climbing if I expect it to do any good. 

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So anyway.  Lots of angst-y things going on in my head right now- things from the past, things from the present, things from the future.  All tenses covered.  Just stuff.  Nothing really bloggable.  (Is that a new word?  Probably not.)  So I guess for now I’ll just say we’ve made it through the entire catalog of Miley tunes in my library and have now graduated to Lady Gaga.  That means it’s time to cut this short and go to bed!

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Until next time,

D.

 

…I Just Want You to Know Who I Am April 30, 2011

It's a Great Feeling

Image via Wikipedia

Hello all.  Please do not adjust your monitors- you haven’t slipped back in time.  You’re actually reading a new post.  I’m writing again for the first time in a while, and I’m feeling really introspective and deep at the moment, and I’m feeling like I have a lot to say tonight, and I’m praying that it all comes out the way I want it to. 

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I owe this new entry to a surprise comment from an old friend I ran into today.  We were talking about our kids, and what they were going to do after high school, and Daughter S., who was with me, told my friend she wants to go to the Dallas Art Institute.  My friend asked me if I was artsy in high school, and I said no, that was my cousin, and that I was more creative with words.  She asked me why I didn’t “do something with that.”  I told her I used to blog online, and she said, “Yeah, I know.  I used to read it all the time, and then you quit doing it.”  That comment shocked me.  I knew there were a faithful few who seemed to enjoy reading me here, but I had no idea who else might have been going along for the ride. (This is why you totally need to be commenting, here, folks!  I need feedback.  I’m no longer too proud to beg!)  So I started thinking about all the writing I’ve done here and all the people who’ve read it and been able to relate, connect, and hopefully have a laugh.  I realized how much I’ve missed writing.  Blogging, sharing, ranting, attempting to entertain and perhaps inspire.  So I’m back in the saddle again, to quote an old cowboy ditty. 

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I was driving home tonight from my kids’ Campfire campout.  The car was quiet.  I had the radio off, for once.  The Boy was snoring in the backseat.  I was contemplating.  You know, things like the Universe and the meaning of life.  No, not really.  Actually, I was thinking about how it’s neat when you’re driving at night through areas with a lot of lights all around, and you let your eyes relax and blur a little, and it all becomes this loopy chaos of sensation, in which, if you let yourself stay long enough, you can start to feel just a little bit high. 

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Also, I was thinking about the subtitle of my blog:  One Woman’s Journey to Becoming Her True Self.  One Woman.  Wo-man.  Whoa, man!  I’m a woman.  When did that happen?  Chronologically there’s no question, I mean I’m ever so lightly pushing 40.  In the timeline of the universe, I’m definitely an adult.  Have been for a while.  But does anyone else ever share that feeling where you’re still just the same person you were in high school, but now people call you Mom, and driving doesn’t scare you, and you have a house that it’s your job to take care of, and you go to work and pay bills, but other than that, you haven’t changed much?  Just me, huh?  Or maybe not.  Maybe some of you felt that way too, you just didn’t know you did until I pointed it out.

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Also the word ‘journey.’  My journey seems to have kicked into high gear lately.  I mentioned on New Year’s Day that I wanted to make this year a year of Action.  Remember last year, I was all about Transformation?  How I wanted to change myself and my life into something I could be proud of, and how this year I wanted to learn how to bring more motion and action into my life, not just physically, but in a lot of other ways too?  Well recently I’ve found myself in what once would have been the oddest of places for me- a gym.  A fitness center.  A place where most people could fit their entire bodies into one leg of my jeans.  It wasn’t an overnight thing, of course.  I was drawn into it veeeery slowly.  My beautiful sister, the fitness fanatic, the exercise queen, had been going there for years. Never nagging, never bragging, never trying to push anyone to do as she did, but always encouraging, supporting, and gently leaving the door open for others to follow her example, eventually becoming certified to instruct the classes she’d been taking for ages.  She participated in a fitness challenge this year, as she has in other years, that piqued my attention and interest mostly because of how much more weight she lost when I thought she had no more to lose, and also because of how much participating helped her husband, who lost his mother right before the challenge started, and who found new salvation and purpose and strength both literal and emotional in his discovery of the joy of fitness.  That was powerful to witness, trust me.

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So I started thinking.  Like I said, Verrrry slowly.  Reluctantly.  I was still trying to do Weight Watchers, but I was really struggling, ever since the holidays.  I was yo-yo-ing up and down, mostly flatlined, but not really trying very hard.  Then they added a new class to the lineup, called PiYo, a combination of Pilates and yoga moves- core strengthening, stretching, balance, etc.  I tried it out, because it was zero impact, and because it was new to everybody so maybe I could keep up, and because my sister was the instructor.  I really enjoyed it, and I kept going to every class.  It was only once a week, so it didn’t create a big sucking drain on my time or energy, and there was plenty of time to recover between Friday mornings at 9am.  And I kept going.  And from the beginning, when I could barely hold myself up, I gradually began to notice it getting easier.  I suddenly realized I was doing some moves I couldn’t do when I started.  Wait, what?  I can do a tricep dip with knee pull?  I can do windshield wiper knees?  I can do a SIDE PLANK!?  Wow, this is only from going one day a week!  What if I started going more often?  What if I went to the turbo class?  No, I can’t do turbo.  That’s fast.  That’s high impact.  That’s 5:freakin-45 in the A.M.!  I gotta sleep sometime.  But… what if I tried it?  What if I did it, and it made a huge difference in my weight loss efforts?  What if I started to feel like maybe I could someday make it to goal weight and actually be a small person, and maybe even be… an athlete?

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Let’s flash back here for a minute.  I started this journey with over two hundred pounds to lose.  That’s right,  2.  Hundred.  I couldn’t walk through my house without feeling like my breathing increased.  I couldn’t jog.  I couldn’t cross my legs.  Hell, I could barely wipe my own butt.  You think that’s not embarrassing to admit?  Brutal honesty here, folks.  Stick with me though, here’s where it gets interesting. 

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This past week at Weight Watchers, I hit 99 lbs. lost since January 2010.  On Monday, I also paid my monthly fee to attend unlimited classes at the gym.  I went to turbo class.  Not once.  Three times in a week.  And one or two times the week before that.  I haven’t missed a regular PiYo class since they started.  People started commenting and noticing my weight loss again.  Not just people who see me once every six months- people who see me at least once a week.  I got revitalized in my weight loss efforts, tracking regularly again, being more controlled and careful about what I ate.  This week at Weight Watchers, I will probably get a gold medal, my most trivial of many rewards for losing 100 lbs. 

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In other words, I was wrong.  I have changed.  I’m older, but I’m not the same. Everything changed.  Everything changed because I got serious about ACTION.  Motion.  Movement.  A friend of mine posted a picture of herself AND her fitness trainer both wearing the denim shorts she was wearing when she started her journey.  It’s amazing to look at that picture.  Inspiring isn’t a strong enough word. 

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The thing is, I’m not where I want to be.  Not even close.  I still have over 100 lbs. to lose.  I want to be toned.  I want to have muscles and strength and stamina.  But I can do things I couldn’t do a few months ago.  The most mind-blowing part to me is my clothing size.  I ordered some stuff online the other day, and there weren’t any X’s involved.  No 1x, 2x, 3x.  Just an L.  You can’t know how weird that is for me. 

*

I guess if there’s a point, it’s that my journey continues.  My efforts to “become my true self” are ongoing.  There are areas I’m still exploring, like my career, and what kind of person I want to be when I find the person I want to be with.  But I’m still here.  Still fighting.  Still being formed along with the fundamental parts of me that are changing as I learn to let myself become who I wanted to be all along.  And that’s about the best anyone can do, right? 

Until next time,

D.

And I don’t want the world to see me

Cause I don’t think that they’d understand.

When everything’s made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.

 

Ok, NOW I’ve Worked Out! April 11, 2011

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Hello all!  Well, today there was another episode of alien body snatching, and I found myself at TFP- The Fitness Professional at 5:40 IN the morning, to participate in something called Turbo!  I think its full name is actually “TurboKick, or The Workout That Kicks Your A$$ and Initially Makes You into a Pathetic, Quivering Blob of Wuss-Ness Until You Get the Hang of It and Become a Fierce Machine” but we’ll shorten it for time’s sake! 

*

So there I was, ready to Turbo it up, and the class started, and I kept up for a little while, but eventually I felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, you know, where she’s in the class with all the other pageant contestants, just making up moves as she goes along?  Yeah.  Definitely me.  So I make it through the class, but I don’t feel like I did a good enough job.. I don’t feel like I really hit it hard.  So I come home, get the kids ready for school, take them to school, return home, and decide I’m gonna hop on the treadmill for a while.  So I start out slowly, warming up with no real idea or intention of how long I’m gonna go.  I always think I’ll just walk for 15 or 20 minutes, maybe 30.  But then I put my laptop close by me, brought up iTunes, cranked up my exercise playlist and walked.  And walked.  And walked!  I kept thinking, Ok, I’ll stop after 2 songs.  Ok, I’ll stop at the next 5 minute mark.  Ok, I’ll stop when I hear a song by this particular artist.  Well… I ended up warming up slow for 5 minutes, then cranking it up on high speed and walking for FIFTY-FIVE minutes!!  That’s 55, people!  Plus another 5 minute slow cool-down.  I think my music helped.  Here are the songs I walked through:

*

So there you have it.  I walked for an hour and 5 minutes total.  I sweated like a pig.  I got in 3.2 miles and over 7500 steps.  I earned 4 Weight Watchers points.  And I am Proud of My Self, yes I am.  It’s only a little after 10 and I still have to go to work and be on my feet and walk all day, and I need to make the kids walk when I get home, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I get in over 15,000 steps today.  Woooo!  Go me! 

*

Until next time,

D.

P.S.  Thanks to my youngest sister, I am planning to sign up for something that sounds like awesome good dirty fun, and that is The Dirty 30 Race!  A 5k + 7 tons of mud + 15 obstacles = a heck of a good time!  Oh, it’s in July.  In Mulhall Oklahoma.  In mud.  A 5k.  Who doesn’t want to do that!?  Find one near you!

 

The Times, They Are A-Changin’! (And So Am I!) February 25, 2011

Filed under: Steps in the Journey,Sweatin' It Out! — DDKlingonGirl @ 10:38 am
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Hello all.  I did something big this week.  I could tell you the backstory of how I’ve said many times that I do not enjoy moving.  Not packing all my belongings in boxes and trucking them across country.  Exercising.  I have never been a mover and a shaker.  I would rather be lying down reading a book or kicked back in a reclining chair with a computer on my lap than almost anything else in the world.  I have been obese almost all my life, but I have a sister who is now a certified fitness instructor!  She goes to a local gym and does “Turbo” at 5:45 three mornings a week, which I have always maintained is not a sane or normal thing to do, and at 9:00 three other mornings a week.  In addition to that, she attends or teaches “Hip Hop Hustle” at least twice a week and is about to start a PiYo class as well.  She also practices the routines at home, AND she does strength training.  She also works about 50 hours a week and has a young daughter.  To say this woman has a full life is an UNDERSTATEMENT! 

*

Anyway, in the first blog I ever posted here, I said I probably would never become the sort of person who gets up and goes to an exercise class at 5-something in the morning.  Well guess what?  This week- I did it.  I had had a big disappointment at Weight Watchers, and watched a dear friend get her goal weight award that same day, and I just decided that if I was ever going to get out of the rut I’ve been in for the last two months with WW, that I would have to get MOVING!  

*
So I didn’t even get to bed until midnight the night before.  I was still flip-flopping back and forth, literally and figuratively, as I lay in bed and tossed and turned and tried to talk myself into and out of getting up and going to my sister’s class.  Finally, after midnight, I just rolled over and set my alarm for 5 a.m. and said to myself, ‘The heck with it.  If I don’t do this now, I never will.  Besides, the first class is free.’  And the next morning, I got up when the alarm went off, pulled on my leggings and oversize t-shirt (No skinny tanks or sports bras for this wanna-be athlete, not yet, anyway!)  and my poor, worn-out Sketchers Shapeups. I grabbed a big water bottle, my keys, phone, and purse, and hit the road.  Still dark, hardly anybody on the road, early morning chill, quiet world.  It was nice.  I got to the gym and it didn’t look like there was anyone there yet, so I sat in the car and texted my sister to surprise her that I was there.  She said she’d be there soon, so I waited a while longer.

*

It’s actually kind of funny- there’s this weird fitness sub-culture in my town.  Every morning, hordes of tiny little people are seen jogging around town at ungodly hours of the morning, clutching their water bottles and trying to look like they’re enjoying it.  (Maybe they are, but I can’t imagine!)  So as I was sitting there in my car in front of the gym on downtown Main street, I kept seeing little groups of joggers go by in my rearview mirror.  Finally, my friend who got her goal weight award this week showed up for the 5:40 Turbo class as usual.  (Hmm, could the two be related?)  Now that I knew someone there, I got out of the car and went in with her.

*

The class was not as hard as I was afraid it would be, but I still couldn’t keep up with half the choreography.  And the whole ‘sticking both feet way out behind you and then doing a huge jumping jack up in the air’ thing?  Oh, heck to the NO!  Not a snowball’s chance I was going to pull that one off yet.  But still, it wasn’t bad; I kept up and kept moving through the whole class, which I was SUPER proud of, and left the gym feeling rubber-legged, but accomplished! 

*

So today I kind of felt the urge to get up and do it again- I even set my alarm again.  (I know, I’m wondering if the Mind-Snatching aliens left a forwarding address, too.)  But my bed was snuggy and warm and I couldn’t make myself get up and go.  But Sister Fitness had given me a couple of Turbo dvds a while back, so I told myself that as soon as I took the kids to school, I’d come home and do one of those.  I even had the kids show me how to work the stupid PS3 that serves as our dvd player.  Unfortunately, that instruction didn’t stick, and I got about 5 minutes into the workout before I got frustrated that I couldn’t keep up with the damn choreography, and then I would have gone ahead and finished it, but I couldn’t figure out how to work the game controller enough to get the video back to where it was, so with a little foul-mouth-edness, I just turned it off and decided to get on the treadmill instead! 

*

I walked for about 27 minutes, and then I fixed myself a lovely scrambled omelette with green onion, minced garlic, cilantro, (which I am starting to fall in love with, btw.  It tastes like Spring!) mushrooms, tomatoes, and shredded cheese, with a whole grain English muffin and a cup of skim milk.  I lit a candle on my table, prayed, meditated, and focused on savoring and enjoying my food.  As I watched the candle flame dance, I started trying to formulate a poem about it, as well as a poetry-based blog entry describing the difference between my Tuesday and my today, but I haven’t perfected those yet, so…

Until next time,

D.

 

 
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