The bad, the good and the tasty

Last weekend I held what I had hoped to be the first Derby de Mayo -- a blend of Cinco de Mayo and Derby Day. And of course I had meant to take photos of the food -- a blend of Mexican and Southern natch -- to post here but I got caught up in conversations. And then at the end of the evening I was kind of emotionally sideswiped. My last two guests in attendance, Emerald and Marin, decided to hold an intervention of sorts. "We think you've been drinking too much lately." Um, did you miss the partygirl memo? Sheesh. "And we think you should go to therapy." Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Really. Add up all my time over the years and I've done at least four to five years of therapy. As my last therapist told me about three years ago, I already have all the tools; I just have to give myself permission to use them. And sometimes sitting in the despair just feels kind of good while you're trying to figure things out. I awoke on Sunday emotionally drained. As such I slept most of the day -- literally. By Monday I was recharged and kind of pissed off. Pissed off is a good thing for me; it's where I find the energy to make change.

So now is about more change -- positive change. I joke about my nomadic soul. It comes from packing it in as a means of change. Now I'm working on how to stay in one place yet still effect change. It kind of helps that on Monday I received an unexpected cash infusion. After doing the responsible thing of paying some bills, I decided that I had some money for me. I have missed being a member of the Film Society but frankly it's rather pricy. So now I'm going to take some of this unexpected membership to join a museum in the East Bay that has lots of events. I figure that this will give me opportunities to meet new people. And I'll get reciprocal benefits at museums in San Francisco. A good thing since I still need to go see the expanded Balenciaga exhibit. I also found local ballet and jazz dance classes for adults at a reasonable price. I'm holding off on those until after I finish my month of boot camp in June. And today I upheld a previous commitment with Emerald to judge the science fair at her son's school. I was paired with a young woman who is new to the area. As it turns out, she is working for my father's previous employer. (And Bucko Ken's as well.) As we were leaving the fair, I asked if she would like to exchange phone numbers as she's new to the area and all. See? I'm good with this change thing.

The other good thing is that I finally had my piano tuned today. Thank you, Groupon. It's been years since I've made any kind of serious attempt at playing since I couldn't stand the sound of the thing. While the tuner said the piano was indeed severely out of tune (a half step), he was able to return it to a playable state. Love him. When I've called other tuners over the years, they have told me that it's an inexpensive model and I'd be better off buying a new one than trying to tune it. But this tuner got it. Upon seeing the piano, he asked, "It has sentimental value, doesn't it?" He also marveled that while it had lacked tuning for years, it had been well cared for. After he left, I sat down to attempt to play. My hands in the past had been rather stiff so I decided to go with what my hands knew best -- Beethoven's Fur Elise. I can still play nearly half of it from memory. It wasn't great but it wasn't completely horrid either. Now I need to locate my Chopin and Bach books. Maybe by the end of this year I can once more take stabs at Rachmaninoff. In the past playing the piano was one of my ways to relieve stress when I was feeling overwhelmed.

But I know. All this time you've been wondering about the photo. After the tuner left and before I attempted to play, I popped out to check on my mom's house. On my return, I stopped at The Brick Pig's House. The husband came out to take my order. The wife upon hearing my voice, came out from the kitchen and exclaimed, "You came back." I reminded her that I had told her on my last trip there that I had said I would return if all was as good as she promised. As I decided how much to order, I was asked how many I was feeding this time. "Still just me." The husband pointed to a photo on the wall of a young woman who had eaten an entire slab of ribs minus one in a single meal. "Why yes, there was a time in which I could have eaten an entire slab on my own." Now it sits like a challenge in the back of my mind.

I decided this time I needed a mix of the ribs as well as their brisket. Oh.My.God. My next trip there I may very well ask kind folks to adopt me. I have never in my life had brisket like that. It really did melt in the mouth as the folks on Yelp claimed. And to switch things up, I went with the blackberry cobbler instead of the peach. Reminded me of summers on my grandparents' farm.

Bottom line? In probably the best headspace in quite some time. Or at least I like to think so. Well once I finish dealing with payment for water damage to my place from upstairs unit.

Tom Cruise

That's how I feel these days. Like Tom Cruise jumping on a couch while on Oprah. I know. Makes me sound kind of manic compared to my former self. Like I said, I now no longer wake up feeling a fog around my brain. So if that makes me manic, so be it. (Of course shortly after I started this change, my mom has asked on a daily basis, "Why do you sound sad?" Have I sounded sad to y'all?) Then again maybe I'm all like Charlie Sheen. But I'm not in denial; I know I need to make changes.

Monday night I finally tried one of the recipes in The Paleo Solution. Yep, that's spaghetti sauce over green beans. The beans were roasted in the oven. The sauce had no added salt. And there was no cheese on top. But it all tasted oh so good.

I am committed to the 30 days. Over the last few years I have learned that I can indeed make commitments. (Huge life changing event was passing my three year anniversary at work making this is the longest I've stayed at any one place.) I have a deep love of cheese, yogurt, and ice cream. I doubt I'm done with them. But now I'm afraid of them. I now feel that if I eat these things, I will be physically ill. And I'm going to ignore my coworkers -- most of whom are overweight -- when they say that I'm on my way to being anorexic. Sorry but I eat all day long and don't regurgitate yet I'm eating disordered because I'm smaller than you are? First of all beyotch you should have caught me ten years ago when I was completely disordered. Second of all, fuck all you beyotches who sit back and think that because a woman wears a single digit size, she must be anorexic. I don't go around saying that just because a woman wears a double digit, she must push away from the table. Well except for my aunt but then again my thing with her has always been making different food choices. Believe me. If I still lived in Virgina, I'd be shoving this down her throat. I'm tired of losing people to health reasons.

So that's right, beyotches. I plan to be here for some time. Suck it up.

Going old school

If you read my Facebook page, then you know that a week ago I started the Paleo diet. I have spent the past week seeing the fat that I've been fighting to rid myself of just melting off. That's part of what keeps me motivated.

I had originally thought that giving up dairy would be hard but it really hasn't. Yes, I crave fruit juice -- and when I do I eat some fresh fruit. Giving up grains and legumes? Not a problem at all.

I called Zombie Mom on Thursday to ask her why she had stressed how wonderful this way of eating feels? She asked how I had been sleeping. And then I realized. I no longer have insomnia. I have had sleep problems since high school and had just accepted it as a normal for me. Now no more tossing and turning. No more waking up in the middle of the night. And when I wake up in the morning, I'm alert and clear headed. And I have energy all day. So I'm sticking with the 30 day plan. After the 30 days are up, I know I will have the occasional dairy. I just love cheese a little too much. And yogurt. But for the most part, this will be my life.

Best of all, it has forced me to go back to the kitchen. Pictured above is one of this week's meals -- a stew of pork and kabocha. Yep, this is even better than the last time I tried to shed those pesky pounds.

They knew

This photo of Boris and Natasha was taken on Tuesday evening. All this week they have been trying to get as much quality time as possible. I figured they already knew and so was surprised by Boris' puzzled look as I left this morning, suitcase in hand. I assume that he will be throwing a rager in my absence and will not clean up after himself. This will be his payback for my not taking him with me on Monday night when I went to see Dave Chappelle (Fantastic show.) and for not sharing my snow crab legs later in the week.

It's back to Berkeley and the dogs for me. Although I was slightly freaked out to hear that cops had to shoot a mountain lion that was prowling the Gourmet Ghetto earlier this week -- a mere two blocks from my former home.

We're having a heatwave once more. Yesterday it was 90 while today is slightly cooler. Luckily it will continue to cool off over the weekend as it can be unbearably warm at Marin's home. I have also vowed that I will not lock myself out this time.

What will I be doing? Watching "Weeds" on Netflix instant viewing. I am currently in the middle of season three. I also have some reading to do. I am slowly but surely making my way through The Hour I First Believed. Just in case I want to switch things up, I also have with me the latest book from Meg Gardiner as well as that Anthony Bourdain book about which everyone has been talking.

I have also decided to get all kinds of crazy over the weekend. Normally when I watch Dumb and Dumber, I eat takeout and stuff that can be prepared in the microwave. This weekend I have brought along food that will require actual cooking. Actually I haven't been doing any actual cooking in quite some time unless you want to count boiling eggs. Which I'm not going to do this weekend because did you know that Trader Joe's now carries hard boiled eggs? And they're already peeled.

Finally I will also try my best to stay out of Beckett's as that always seems to lead to trouble. But I'll probably cross town to stop into see my BFF, The Commander.

Hope y'all have a great weekend. I know I am really looking forward to having four days off in a row.

Going coastal

I haven't really dropped off the map. A week ago I headed down the coast to hang out with Zombie Mom and her children, the Commander and Lala Bean. We were joined by Zombie Mom's friend, Peony and her children. And briefly by another friend of Zombie Mom's. I went for an extended weekend, leaving on Tuesday, while the rest stayed on.

There was lots of frolicking in the surf and sand at the beginning of it all for me but then I began to feel drained. Perhaps it was forewarning of things to come. Then again perhaps my sunburn from Sunday was the first warning. My left shoulder is still sore to the touch but my nose started to peel a couple of days ago.

By midday at work on Wednesday, I was not feeling exceptionally well. By early evening, all I could think of was sleep. Thursday morning? I made the decision to drag my butt out of bed to go into the office to take care of a few urgent things. These things took all of an hour. And then I took my feverish ass home. My self-diagnosis was the flu if you really want to know.

If you know me, time at the ocean always makes me introspective -- more so than usual. Add onto this time alone at home while sick for a few days and well...

I headed off on the weekend after having had a biopsy on Friday morning. Seems like things are still not quite regular in my body. I need to quit smoking. So far that hasn't happened but I have cut down drastically. My doctor mentioned how many people smoke as a result to stress. I mentioned this to my mother and then she droned on about the latest thing that some family member has done to irritate her. Oh and in case you're wondering, it's still all pre-cancerous. Supposedly if I quit smoking, my body can rid itself of this stuff. If I don't, it's up in the air.

Yesterday my dad's assistant called before heading off for her vacation. She has finally met my future stepmother and is thoroughly charmed by her. She also says that for the last couple of weeks my father has been his old self -- the one we actually liked.

The thoughts raced through my mind during my recuperation. And sometimes I felt the burn of hot tears down my face. Today I started the first draft of a statement to my dad. A statement, not a letter. I could send an email but I want him to see my face, hear my voice as I read it to him. In an ideal world I will do such with a therapist present. I see myself reading the words and then handing the page to him. And then walking out.

I am glad that he is getting better. That's all I've ever wanted. But in this time I've realized that I just can't let him into my life anymore. I've had a couple of months to see what life can be like. And I became a little bit happier. Because right now that's my focus. Stop worrying about if other people are happy. Make sure I'm happy and healthy. I feel like I should write a book on how to not fuck up your kids.

Reality check

Anyone who knows me knows that I watch a lot of reality TV. My usual morning routine is to grab a glass of juice or a cup of tea and settle down in front of the TV. After I catch up on some of my stuff saved on the DVR, I usually watch the Style channel.

This morning I got treated to an episode of "Tacky House." If you've never seen it, it's a show on which a friend or relative turns someone in for their tacky decorating taste. The poor victim is tricked into thinking that they are actually going to be on a show called "My Awesome House." I'm surprised there is not more cursing on the show personally. And maybe some bitch slaps.

So there I was this morning enjoying some juice and the show. This morning a woman turned in her fiance and his sister for living in a castle somewhere in the Los Angeles area. I mean this place actually had a moat. As the show went on, I realized that I recognized the woman's voice and so did a little rewinding. Yes, the woman who had turned in the pair was indeed Lisa D'Amato who first appeared on "America's Next Top Model" and later on "Celebrity Rehab." I told y'all I watch a lot of reality TV.

The thing is that since I was looking at the mobile version of Wikipedia on my phone, the first thing I read were Lisa's stats. It seems we wear about the same size. OK. So sometimes I wear a smaller size. But then I looked at her measurements. Because you know since she's a model, it's really important that they share that information. And it confirmed what I know to be true now. I don't necessarily need to lose weight but I do need to firm some stuff up. Because if I firm it up, I'll lose those last pesky few inches. Now to just get motivated...

So many things

So since that last post I've been meaning to write. The stuff there? A temporary setback. That was a sign of my warring inner selves -- the one who knows these people cannot be trusted and the one who wants to believe that people will understand and respect what I say. Notice I did not say agree. Unlike my mom, I'm not looking for agreement. All I've ever wanted is understanding.


I first thought of writing on Thursday night when I got home and found this lad howling on my deck. Seems he wanted in. And he eventually got his way. I refused to name him though since once you name them, they're yours. I sent him home with a coworker on Friday. Hopefully now he has a new home.


I took a half day on Friday. Besides packing up the kitten to go home with my coworker, I had my hair done and got a pedicure. Lesson learned is that I should not wait this long between pedicures. Another lesson learned is that I should take more time for me.


Finally, Drummer Boy was supposed to show up this weekend. In younger days, I would be crying over this slight. (Especially since I did not find out until Friday afternoon that he was not showing up -- because I texted him. Thin rope.) So I continued on with my weekend plans. I know you've seen this before but it's been quite some time since I have grilled ribs. And once it's lit, you just have to throw other stuff on it. I had to make sure that I had not forgotten what I learned. It was basically a practice run.

This year for my birthday, I'm hosting a BBQ. Last year I invited one of my coworkers and his wife. They were expecting an invite this year as well. So they responded yes but now they are rethinking. Why? Because the vast majority of the people invited are female. I explained that most of my friends are married and that some will be bringing their husbands. See my coworker didn't want to be the only guy present. So now he wants me to let him know a few days beforehand if other men will be present. My feeling is that if you are so worried about who else will be present, then you don't need to be present. So yeah, I uninvited them. Life's too short for that kind of bullshit in my opinion.

Final thought of the weekend is this song. I first heard it on "Ugly Betty" when they played it for the first dance at Hilda's wedding. I was near tears. I'm pretty sure that Maddie was bawling. After hearing it, I thought that I could suggest it to my dad and his fiance for their wedding -- because I was still speaking to them then. So if one of y'all out there is planning on getting married, I highly recommend this song to you. Although I still love Stevie Wonder's "As" but that song is something like six minutes long.

And maybe soon I'll be able to put together something that isn't as rambling in the near future.

The road to here

Life started out OK, or at least it seemed that way to me. I was born a year after the college sweethearts moved to California. They had been married for two years at that point. My mother chose to be a SAHM until I was three. There were baked goods, dinner on the table at six and quality time with mom that included sitting on her lap while she read various books to me. She knit sweaters and made wonderful Halloween costumes for me. It was many years later when I found that my mother was a pretty skilled artist and besides the textile arts, she does a decent job with drawing and painting. But that was at a point at which the world had already shifted quite a bit.

I remember all of this clearly since my memory starts sometime between ages two and three for me. Really. But there are about two years missing from my memory that I know I will never be able to retrieve. As an adult, I now know that this lapse starts about the time at which my parents' marriage began to disintegrate. But it's not all gone. I can tell you about school during that time period. Just don't ask me about home.

I can tell you why my parents split. They started telling me the why of it all when I was about ten, I believe. (They divorced when I was eight but the deterioration of their relationship started when I was about six.) I know that my mother was not satisfied with being a SAHM. I know that my dad felt that in his role as the provider, there was no need for his wife to work. As such, why did she insist upon working? It had been fine for his mother after all. Then the divorce happened and we began our journey on becoming the people we are today.

My mother while loving her job felt empty. She filled the emptiness with daily shopping. Dinner was no longer on the table at six. Instead I was often told that I was on my own. I often dined with my "real parents." And I would escape to Jade's house.

My father tried to adjust to being single and along the way dived into the bottle. By the time I was 12, I was able to figure out that someone who can kill a fifth of whatever in a single afternoon had a problem. He would drink and tell me how he had failed as a husband and how it pained him. That's about the time I stopped the biweekly visits. It's not like he was showing up on the doorway, beating it down and demanding his visitation rights anyway.

And me? I felt alone but slowly figured out how to get through it all. But every now and then I wanted them to listen to me. And so I'd do something self-destructive. That is our dynamic. They can only hear me when I have done something completely fucked up.

In looking back, I realize that it all began much earlier than I had previously thought. At age 11, my best friend and I proclaimed that we were tired of getting straight A's. Apparently our teacher overheard us and shared this with my mom at a parent-teacher conference. The adults were concerned because getting A's had always come easy to me; getting anything less took conscious effort. And so I just stopped doing the work.

By the next school year, I found myself in for a conference with both my parents and my English teacher. My decision to stop turning in work had earned me a D. I was allowed to make up the work and so received a C instead. It could have been higher if I had actually completed all of the make-up work.

This is what I remember most though. I remember sitting at the kitchen table at my mom's house while both my parents lectured me on how this just was not acceptable. They may have even asked why I did it. And I sat there in silence. Finally they asked what I wanted. "You wish you were somewhere else, don't you?" I looked them in their eyes and calmly said, "I wish I were dead." There was a great deal of fussing about how I should never say that. And so I never said the words again.

Instead I quietly skipped meals. Because at 5'9" and 110 pounds, I had decided that I was fat. When I looked in the mirror, I'm not sure that there was anything about myself that I liked. Why should I? The message that I got at home was that I rarely got anything right. Or it was, "You can't say or act that way because your behavior is a reflection upon me. I will not have people talking about how I am not doing things right because of how you act." Those may not be the exact words but that was the gist of it. And I now know that this is when I learned to lock away little bits of myself, how to let others see only what I thought they wanted to see.

It all started to eat away at me though. By junior year of high school, I was clearly depressed. I felt very alone in the world save for a handful of friends. These wonderful people are still my friends today. Besides my friends, the other thing that kept me going was knowing that I'd go to college soon and have a chance at freedom.

Somehow it all came to a head in my college years though. I spent a great deal of my 20s in and out of therapy. I would try to talk to my parents but they just couldn't hear me. And so there were the suicide attempts that would finally make them listen if only for a few days. My first therapist recognized what was I doing. She told me, "You don't really want to die. You just want people to pay attention, to listen. You don't know how to get them to listen otherwise. I'm just afraid that one of these days in trying to get them to listen, you'll actually succeed in killing yourself."

I spent a year with another therapist after my last suicide attempt. She's the one who made me go through all the self-esteem exercises. She reiterated what the previous therapist -- and the ones after both of them -- have said. In order to save myself, I might one day have to let go of certain people.

I was well into my 30s before the thought of suicide finally was no longer an option in my mind. I promised myself then that I would never go down that road again. I now knew how to recognize the early signs. This is what I have seen over the last couple of years -- that I was no longer going forward, but instead was moving backward.

Why write this now? Because yesterday I let my guard down a little too much. First there was the phone call from my "real dad." I have been talking to his wife over the last week or so. She understands. He on the other hand has heard my dad crying, whining, whatever about how he didn't understand why I no longer want to speak to him. Real dad wanted to mediate things. Problem is that in my mind there just isn't anything to mediate. There was nothing that I could say to my dad that I haven't said before. I said I was tired of the lies, the false promises. I just can't go down that road again.

And then I got a visit from my dad's oldest brother and his wife last night. They wanted me to patch things up with my dad -- because that's what family does. There was talk about how sometimes you swallow things to prevent discord in the family. Oh, and that they accept me as I am. This was in response to my saying that I feel like I get lost along the way in the whole family dynamic, that friends who have seen me around them say that I stop being me. I won't be talking to them any time soon.

That's why I can share this now. To help you to understand something that they never will. That to go back into all of this now feels like it would just kill me. I can talk myself blue in the face yet they will never get it. And I just can't ever go back to that place again. Mostly because I kind of enjoy rediscovering who I really am.

If you haven't guessed yet, this is something I wrote for me. Something to make sense of it all.

Extraction

I spent a great deal of time last week researching recipes so that I could show y'all some new stuff. What happened is I wrote my list and went shopping. Then the psychic attack began and I didn't want to cook.

It started with my cousin chastising me for having another cousin stay with my dad once he got out of the hospital. This is the busy time for me at work; if I take time off, it involves major changes. My cousin has a fluid work schedule. But because I was handing this off to someone else, I was lacking. I know this because I was asked "Why can't you be there the first night he gets out of the hospital?" This was asked about a relative who lives at least 2,000 miles away. I mentioned something about having a job, having bills. So yeah, folks who wanted me to take care of shit while not getting paid and possibly endangering my employment status? Yeah, they got a finger for their pain.

Thursday my dad got out of the hospital and proclaimed he wanted his business checkbook back. Because he could handle things. Like before. When he was two to three months behind on his bills. But I figured that he was a big boy and used to handling shit. Turns out that he is used to dealing with the present. The past? Please forgive him.

So by Saturday, I had decided that I had no father nor relatives on his side. Then I drove my mother across the Bay so she could leave the country. She was not satisfied with my answers about how I was handling my dad's situation. I was told that my wanting to disconnect was a sign that perhaps I needed to go back to therapy. And this is the point at which I decided that I don't have any blood relatives.

How is it that everyone is deep into dysfunctional behavior but I'm the one who needs therapy? I have spent way too many years being the crazy one. But I'm not crazy. I just want a life in which boundaries are respected.

Other than the ugly scene with mom on Saturday, I have not spoken to a family member since last Thursday. And I've never been more together in appearance.

My response to this, besides the "radio silence," has been to indulge in food. This is how I gained all the weight in the first place. I felt beat up beyond belief Saturday and so I went shopping. There was Haagen Dazs, microwave pizza and five layer dip with chips to name a few items.

Pity food is done. I'm backed to my pissed off strategy -- 900 to 1000 net calories. Yep. Eating disorder eating. But I'd need to lose 25 pounds from my current weight to be hospitalized. No need to fear that since I'm so far from that weight.

Balancing act

As some of you already know, my dad has been in the hospital for a little over a week. Pancreatitis from his alcoholism, the treatment of which has irritated the COPD from his cigar smoking. As is normally the case in this kind of situation, there has been a great deal of family drama.

Add to this that my mother is still in town and it's Mother's Day weekend. Oh, and that this is the really busy stressful time at work. I snapped yesterday on my way to pick up my mother while talking to Uncle Crickity Crack. There was lots of yelling on my part including the words, "Shut the fuck up!" before I hung up the phone. As I continued driving, I just let the tears stream. I have driven to Sacramento twice in the past week. That's 180 miles round-trip for me. One trip on Wednesday and one on Friday. The only day this week that I didn't go to work for at least part of the day was Friday. By Saturday I was feeling emotionally and physically burnt.

But Saturday brought one ray of sunshine. Weeks ago my mother and I planned to attend the annual flower show at Filoli. The theme this year was "Filoli Goes to the Movies." Below are some of the arrangements with the movie that inspired them -- if I actually remembered. Yep. I didn't take notes so this is from memory. I think I did a pretty good job considering.

And yes, the flowers were just what I needed after this past week.

The Wedding Planner


Finding Nemo

A Chorus Line

Phantom of the Opera

Titanic

Titanic


Finian's Rainbow

Four Weddings and a Funeral

Joy Luck Club

The Devil Wears Prada

Proof

Not for you. For me.


Since November this dress has been my beacon. The last time I wore it last year during some gin-filled weekend, I could only do so with the aid of a foundation garment. Every time I was ready to give up on the weight loss thing, I pulled this dress out and tried it on as it has always been one of my favorites. A month ago I got the zipper halfway up. And then figured out how I could drop some more weight. For over a month, my weight has been at a constant for the most part. I have not reached what I thought would be my final goal. And then I started noticing that clothes were getting loose. I guess I've been busy exchanging fat for muscle. So a week ago I pulled the dress back out and tried it on. It zipped with absolutely no problem. And then I tried on a bunch of other stuff. Yes, I could get into them but they still don't fit the way they used to so I still have some to lose.


After getting all the yummy food on Sunday, I remembered this dress. I bought it almost two years ago on clearance from The Gap. When it arrived, it didn't fit. But I kept it anyway. And for the first time ever, it actually fits.

Now to get those other dresses to fit. Before summer.

Feeling the burn

Over the last couple of weeks, I have stopped using my Wii. I know, I know. The thing is the weather has gotten better and I started walking at lunchtime -- generally one to one and a half miles. I've been getting bored with this though. On Friday I increased it to two miles but still eh. I've been feeling like I should be running -- or doing a longer distance. That's how I found myself up and out yesterday morning. The plan was to walk the neighborhood -- 4.3 miles in total. But don't mistake me for Zombie Mom. I said "walk" not "run." I could have finished it in less time than the hour and a half or so that I was out but I had to pause along the way to take some photos for y'all. OK. And for the first half these were a lovely excuse to rest as the grade rarely leveled out.








As expected there were some large homes along the way. Many had gates. Some were set so far back from the street that they were barely visible. Just what one would expect in a a hilly neighborhood that also has a country club.


The neighborhood is not really into sidewalks. There are several stretches of road that look like this. Fortunately there is not much car traffic. At times the shoulder was non-existent and there were blind curves. At these points I did what I normally would not do -- walked with my back to traffic. Walking into it was just a bit too nerve-wracking.


I finally reached a point at which I could see my goal -- the street at the top. And then I thought, "What the hell am I doing?" But I kept going.


And then there were poppies! OK. So California poppies are not true poppies but still. Poppies!


Upon reaching the top -- Skyline Boulevard, in case you're interested -- I paused to look back. In the haze sits San Francisco.


The intersection brought back memories because I spent quite a bit of time in this area when growing up. At age 12 or 13 I attended a slumber party for the other K. I've known her since I was four although we drifted apart a few years ago. K, her other friends and I went for a hike down this trail -- and stumbled upon a police crime scene. Just a stolen car that someone had attempted to burn. But they let us watch as they collected evidence. And we managed to talk one of the police officers to give us a ride back to the house. We all sat in the car trying to look somber as the officer went to K's front door and asked her mom if we belonged to her. Oh the laughter.

Enough memories. Time to head back down the hill.


More signs of spring.




Months ago I showed you views of the old Naval facility. Here is is from another vantage point.


And seeing this sign made me think of a conversation I had this past week with Boy Toy.


Private road. Another site that has always fascinated me. Whenever I see one of those signs, I think they're trying to tell me to come right on in. It's almost like a dare. Even better when it has the words "Patrolled by armed patrol" added to it. Not on this one though. Pooh.


I took one final look back as I neared home. Skyline Boulevard sits at the top of the photo.

Over the last month or so, my weight has been pretty constant. And I've been kicking myself over it at times. But getting home after my walk, I realized something. I may not have really been losing weight but my body has been reshaping itself over the last month. Duh. How many times have I asked a friend who was disappointed because she hadn't lost any weight, "Well, what about your measurements? You do know that muscle weighs more than fat?" My yoga pants that were uncomfortable back in November now have extra room in them. I am actually tying the drawstring once more. And people at work have been making comments like, "You're going to waste away soon." But they have never seen me at my smallest. I'm still not where I want to be but I'm getting pretty close.

And today I am still achy. Who knew that one's butt could hurt so much? But then I remembered my physiology classes. The pain is caused by a build-up of lactic acid in the muscles. What's the quickest way to get rid of it? More exercise. So now I'm back out the door to conquer the hill once more. I want to see what kind of time I don't stop along the way to take photos. But I will stop occasionally to admire the flowers.

Other people's food

As you know, I have been rather uninspired as of late when it comes to food. I think it comes from my battle with my body to lose those last few pounds. I realize now that part of the problem is that my body is trying to tell me that I am within the range of what's considered "normal." Yeah, maybe for someone else but not for me. So I go back and forth between giving up and falling back into the old habit -- just don't eat. I mean that literally on the not eating thing. But this is me trying to be healthy so I'll plod on as there are dresses that I love dearly hanging in my closet and I am almost there.

I had thought about doing a post earlier this week after seeing Cookiecrumb's hot dog post. I went with a bockwurst with sauerkraut and Russian hot mustard. But new was there to add? So I wrote nothing.

And then yesterday, Fluffycat told me about her meal from El Pollo Loco. For the second time this week I was excited about food. As I left work, I called Taqueria Guadalajara -- one of the best taquerias in San Leandro -- to place my order.


Roasted chicken, corn tortillas, refried beans, salsa, guacamole. And all for a mere $13. Boris was definitely excited over the prospect of it all but he got none.

And tonight I am really looking forward to dinner for the first time in weeks.

Quick change artist

I am still doing well with the watching of calories -- too well actually. And so tonight I was inspired by two things. First there was my discussion with my friend, Sista Locks, last night. She pointed out that diet is an evil word; this is all about a change in lifestyle. And since this is something that needs to be sustainable, it means not denying one's self of certain foods. Secondly I chose today to leaf through the cooking magazines that had shown up over the last week. And then I plugged in the foods I planned to eat throughout the day along with the things that I would do to burn calories and found that my net calories were going to be somewhere around 800. Not really all that good. So I decided that I needed a treat -- Shrimp-Stuffed Peppers.

Now the peppers needed to be roasted and the recipe said to do so in a cast iron skillet. Ummm. Yeah. Don't own one of those. But I have my snazzy stove that I bought last year.

Before


After

Who needs a cast iron skillet?

And yeah, the peppers were tasty. Except next time I think I'll use more cheese. Cheese is like bacon. It just makes a multitude of things better. But now I must go. because I'm still short on calories for today. What next?

Imposter

I know what you're thinking. "She's gone off the deep end. What happened to the whole weight loss thing?"

Tonight's dinner was alfredo sauce (light) mixed with peas, asparagus, mushrooms, crab meat and topped with a little red jalapeno. Oh and the noodles are actually spaghetti squash. Never had it before but I thought I'd give it a try. Fools the eye but the taste is different. Not bad, just different.

Only problem is that I should have eaten the entire plate calorie-wise but got full about a third of the way through. Maybe in a bit I'll be able to get more down.

The keeper of secrets

The photos are of the appetizers as well as my main course ordered last night when I went out to dinner with my dad. Before I can discuss the food, I need to rewind some.

My father is an alcoholic. He stopped drinking when I was 18. Even though he went through rehab, he spent many years later as a "dry drunk." For those of you not familiar with the phrase, it means that while he stopped drinking, he continued his behavior. From the time that I was about 10 or so until I was 28 my relationship with my father was tenuous at best. The following ten years were fabulous; I had the dad I had always wanted, the dad that I remembered from when I was five. And then his siblings started to die as well as his wife and he eventually started drinking again. So in many ways my dad and I have returned to the relationship we had when I was 16 -- he writes a check and that is about all of our contact.

Yesterday I drove to Sacto to partake of the annual event that I have done since 1999 when I stopped working for my dad -- doing the books to make sure they are ready for the accountant for tax return preparation. After a few hours a took a break to go have a cigarette; my dad was already outside having a cigar at the time. After I lit up, he said that there was another reason why he had wanted me to come up for the weekend. And with those words, I knew what was coming next. My dad is getting married -- for the third time -- in October. My first reaction was to be happy for him. He doesn't do well on his own. Even though I had only met his fiance on two occasions -- one of which ended up with me not speaking to my mom for months -- I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

But when I was ready to get to work, there was a problem. My dad had been sitting at his desk and I in the chair across the desk. He eventually got up and excused himself so I could get to work. When I went behind his desk, thankfully I looked down -- and saw a noticeable wet spot on the seat. I blotted the spot with a nearby tissue and then held it up for a whiff and confirmed what I thought. (And some of y'all probably wonder why at times I carry so much baggage. On the outside it may seem like I have led a charmed life but really?) I switched out the chair and he asked me about it when he returned but I just gave him a look.

And I worked on trying to absorb the information about his impending marriage. And then I got to that check -- the one with her name on it. And then it all came back. I could have pulled the report to see about the activity for that "vendor" but I didn't. Because until last June the name meant nothing to me. But four, five years ago when I first saw it, I had no clue. They were supposed to be repayment for a loan but there was never a deposit that matched. One of the weird things in my family is that people think that they can expose me to random bits of information and that I will not be able to connect the dots. Hello. According to the tests I took in school, I have an IQ of 148. And I have social skills on top of that. Tonight I called my cousin who has always been an older sister to me. She told me that my father had been planning to divorce my stepmother for his current fiance but then my stepmother got sick. So yeah, my mother was right but we'll never tell her that.

So now you have the background. The food? Appetizers from the dinner that my dad had planned for the three of us. The third photo is my entree. I knew we were going out but until I heard about the engagement, I thought it would be just me and my dad.

We had time to kill before dinner. And this is when I went into my old role as the enabler. Before dinner, my dad and I killed a bottle of white wine at his house. And then I like a fool got in the car with him. On the way to the restaurant, the car drifted into the oncoming lane several times. This is why I stopped spending weekends with my dad when I was 12 or so. I got tired of worrying about whether I would live through the weekend.

So we got to the restaurant and he suggested to us -- me and his fiance -- that we order wine. Well, actually it seemed more like a conversation between that two of them. Thankfully the drive home was less eventful.

Today I had planned to hit the road home early. The drive home is about 95 miles. But once I was dressed, my dad informed me that we were going to breakfast. And so we went to her home. So that I could see her for the fourth time in my life. At the restaurant, they ordered Mimosas. I ordered coffee.

Here's the thing. I like the woman as a person. We could so be friends. She won't tell her age but I guess that she is about ten years older than I. But her age doesn't bother me so much. Her enabler/codependent behavior. I sat there today while she never questioned and in fact seemed to encourage my father's negative traits -- things that my stepmother and my mother never would have tolerated. And I thought to myself that I have to disconnect from this whole situation because in the end it will not be good. I have to save myself.

Then I tried calling the folks who I knew with whom I could be completely honest. Outside of here, those folks are few and far between. Part of the dysfunction is that you disavow the truth; I've always had a hard time with this part of the program. Yes, I can lie like a champ but at my core I believe in absolute honesty -- even if I need to be blunt. I knew that most family members would be ecstatic beyond belief. They would say that my concerns meant nothing. So first I called my estranged aunt by marriage. She told me that I need to talk to my dad. I said that I couldn't see how.

Then I called my cousin; she has always been my older sister. She confirmed my suspicions. She also told me that her mother had indeed had a chat with my dad about his drinking before she died last April. My cousin asked me if I had ever watched the show "Intervention." She said that I was the only person to whom my dad will listen. And talking to her, it came to me. I just have to tell him the truth. Continue down this path and you can no longer be a part of my life. I've done this before but it wasn't about his sobriety. My stance there has always been that he needs to make the decision on his own; just like no one could keep me alive except for me back when I was suicidal, no one else can make him stop drinking. But I want him to understand why I am walking away just like this time if I have to walk away from my mom, I will explain it to her. This will be something new. I have spent years walking away without explaining. I just never thought the explanation was necessary. I thought that if you were in the same moment with me that you would understand.

And so now I sit here with the realization that I am about to lose both of my parents. I will lose my mother to her obsession with my father's life and my unwillingness to become a part of the dynamic at this point in my life. And I will lose my father to his addiction once more. And knowing this, I am trying my best to hold it all together. But don't worry about me. I have loads of experience at being the adult and holding it all together. I mean I've been doing it since I was ten years old. I'm a seasoned pro at this shit.

Back to basics

I am steadily trying to push through to continue with the weight loss thing. After the holiday season, I dropped my net calories severely -- slightly over 1,000 per day. This worked at first but then stopped. I realized that my body probably thought it was starving -- something that I have been trying to avoid since day one. So now I have increased my daily net calories to 1,200 to 1,300. Now with my added physical activity -- thank you Wii -- that means that I need to eat significantly more than I had been. The first day was a struggle but then slowly it came to me.

Duh. I need to start eating breakfast. And as it turns out, my favorite things to eat first thing in the morning -- fruits and oatmeal -- are decent fiber sources. So now I'm trying to commit myself to really eating three meals a day. And I have nuts and baby carrots for snacks.

One question has come up in my mind though. What happens when I reach my goal? The recommendation is around 2,000 net calories per day. Now that just seems like way too much food. I mean I can imagine consuming that occasionally but on a daily basis? Frightening.

Boring

That's what food has become for me as of late -- boring. And that's why I haven't really been doing many posts. I eat out of necessity. I find that when I do that, the food is usually not very interesting.


Earlier this week I roasted a Cornish hen. I don't know about y'all but for me one hen equals four meals. The first day was some of the hen with some steamed asparagus. Like I said -- boring. But last week, I got a Wii along with Wii Fit Plus so that I could start getting some regular exercise. The problem is that now that I'm about halfway to my goal weight, I have hit a wall thus the exercise. Now I face a new problem. I have dropped my net calories pretty low over the last month or so. And adding exercise? Well, that means that my net calories had veered into the region of unhealthy habits. I needed more calories. Thing is that I had cut starchy stuff out of my diet almost completely. Then while reading through articles about carbs online on Wednesday, I remembered what Zombie Mom mentioned last week. Yams could be my friend. So I added a baked yam to the mix and was able to meet my net calories.


Another thing I have been avoiding besides bread is pasta. So when I went shopping for the yams, I also picked up some whole grain pasta. (In the photo is a mixture of steamed broccoli, leftover Cornish hen breast and whole grain penne with a light alfredo sauce.) I must admit that I have become a fanatic about monitoring fiber content of food these days. Ideally I want 20-25 grams of the stuff in my daily diet. At the same time I have been monitoring my sugar intake which is why I also said goodbye this week to my beloved fruit juice. Oh and wine as well. Because that's how determined I am to lose this last bit of weight.

On track

I am not a big sandwich person. About the only exceptions to this are Reubens, Carolina bbq pork and burgers. With the weight loss thing, I haven't had any really. Because bread is evil. No, it is. Really.

But today the stars aligned and declared that I absolutely had to have a burger. So I headed on over the fairly newish Boulevard Burger on MacArthur. Because look. They have sweet potato fries too. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. They have now replaced Rocky's as my favorite burger joint in San Leandro.

Oh yeah. Totally forgot to mention that this was kind of a celebration. My current weight? Haven't seen this number in at least a year. I still have more weight that I'd like to lose. But today I treated myself to a burger (There will be salad for dinner.) as a reminder that it's OK to eat like this every now and again. Just not every day.

Coming together

I am back on track with the whole weight loss thing. This past week I have been eating primarily seafood, fruits and veggies. So I was really excited when flipping through the weekly ads to see that mahi mahi was on special.

So of course mahi mahi must be accompanied by a salsa made of avocado, supremed tangelos, red onion and jalapeno. I had all this in mind when I checked in to see what was going on in Cookiecrumb's kitchen. Yep, more supremed citrus.

The salad thing got me thinking. Usually when I make this, I put the salsa on top of the fish. But I always make too much of the salsa and end up tossing the rest with lettuce for a salad. Salads are a daily part of my diet these days. (I realized that I needed to increase the amount of fiber in my diet and salads are an easy way. I now average about 20 grams a day but would love to get it up to 30 grams.) Thing is that I've been in a salad rut. Romaine with the occasional spring mix. Next thing you know, I was remembering Zoomie's mention of butter lettuce. (It was not the main topic of the particular post but that one little mention has stuck with me.) Butter lettuce would make the perfect bed for the salsa.

This was the perfect lunch for a Saturday in which I spent a great deal of time procrastinating about things that really needed to be done -- like mopping and vacuuming. If only I could train the cats to take care of these things for me.