Fat Tuesday 5/8/12

This week's goal:  -3 lbs
This week's loss:  -2.8 lbs
Total loss:  -2.8 lbs

Reflection:
I really like FitDay.  I haven't tracked my eating every single day, but I do fairly well on the weekdays.  On weekends, I'm very careful about what I put in my mouth and even avoided ice cream on Sunday when I visited Cool Spoons with my parents.  I do love that the program calculates where my calories are coming from--fat, protein or carbs.  I can set specific goals for nutrition or for weight.

(For the record, I contacted FitDay about their lack of a recipe calculator, and one of the men assured me that would be corrected in the coming months.  Frankly, I'm looking foward to it.  How can you track what your eating if you can't enter recipe information?  Especially since I cook so much at home these days.)

Diet-wise, I've done really well...with the exception of Friday night.  (It was Cuatro de Mayo, people.  I had a date with some of the girls from school.  And fruit trays=more carbs than I should've eaten.)  I'm very careful about the number of carbs I'm eating, and my calorie number has stayed relatively low.  That said, weight loss has been slow.  Frustrating.  In fact, if I weigh two days in a row, I may actually show a gain even though I've stuck to this diet religiously.  But commitment is commitment.  I'm actually posting a few of my pictures on instagram if you're interested in following (CrysHouse).  And I have kept my carb percentage below 35% since we started Fat Tuesday.  (Which basically means I've had one whole week of success.)

Other than dancing my butt off at prom (Anyone else know how to Wobble?  The students taught me.  It was an experience.), I really haven't had time for formal exercise.  Once my final is submitted for grad school, I am committing to walking a couple of days a week.  That means next week=me+Courtney+that unweildly walking stroller.  We should be a hit in town.

Next week's goal?  Two pounds.

After all, we're doing this one stick of butter at a time.

Honey Badger Don't Care

I'm a humor risk-taker.

I put a lot of things out there for the sake of a laugh, and sometimes?  Those things are ill received.  I'd like to tell you that honey badger don't care. 

Legitimately, sometimes honey badger really don't care.  But more often than not, honey badger is a little bothered.  I mean, it may be a mean, little animal, but everything has feelings, right?  You can only get bitten by a snake so many times before a little nap just doesn't cut it anymore.

OK, now I'm not even sure where I was going with that analogy except to tell you that the honey badger sometimes occupies my waking thoughts.  Sheer cunning with a vicious ability to survive?  Yes, please.

And now I should jump into some awesome story that shows all of us exactly what lessons we can learn from the honey badger.  But that would require the ability to turn this post around, and I'm really just not feeling it.

Nope.  There are other things to feel today and none of them include I'm-going-to-teach-you-lessons-with-my-stellar-writing-and-awesome-comparisons.

Because it's May.

Because I hate May with almost as much ardor as I dispise December.  The two redeeming qualities this year include a completely full and demanding schedule and the end of the school year.  The latter is something to which I look forward--and I'm more thankful for things like that than I ever have been before.

So I expect to be less present this month.  Maybe because I need to be more present in my actual life.  Maybe because I don't want to become super repetitive here.  Maybe because I'm tired of talking about it.

Some periods of time don't let those feelings sit dormant.

But I will be around.  And I may even pop in from time to time if I manage to concoct something worth reading.  And I will continue posting guest posts as they become available.

And if you have a few minutes, I would certainly covet your prayers over the next three weeks or so.

Thanks.

(PS.  If you really need to catch me, email is the easiest way:  cryshsmn@aol.com)

Guest Post: New Comics Wednesday 5/2/12

I'm grateful to have the opportunity to loan my "space" out to other people from time to time.  I hope my guest writers will introduce you to new and interesting material that goes beyond june bugs or Samscratch.

BigBro has always been interested in comic books.  In fact, his interest might be the only reason I ever learned anything about the X-Men, and I have to credit him for cultivating a deep love of Star Wars in me.  Periodically, he will be here to host New Comics Wednesday.  All of your questions and comments will be forwarded to him so show him some love in the comments!


Welcome to the first installment of New Comics Wednesday.   My name is Ronnie (aka BigBro or My Precious) and this will be my intermittent Wednesday guest blog.  Why Wednesday you ask?  Wednesday is the magical day that new comic books are released in North America (and now the UK) every week.  With these posts I will try to give you a glimpse into the world of graphic storytelling from vibrant superheroes to somber memoirs.  We should begin with a glossary of common terms that you will need for this journey.

Comic:             Sequential art and dialog or narration that tell a story.

Comic Book:   Generally used to refer to a serialized 20-30 page magazine format comic.  Also referred to as “floppies” or “pamphlets” but not by me.

Trade:             A collection of multiple comic books into bound format that usually tells a full story.  Also referred to as “TPB” or less accurately as “Graphic Novels.”

OGN:               Original Graphic Novel.  Original stories not previously serialized in comic books.  This is the proper usage of Graphic Novel.

LCS:                 Local Comic Shop.  Specialty stores that carry comic books and other related merchandise.

Pull List:         A subscription service generally offered by a LCS.  I will be posting my weekly pull list at the bottom of each installment of New Comics Wednesday.

Day & Date:    Digital comics offered the same day as their print counterpart on apps like ComiXolgy.

That should be enough to get you started.  This week is a special week in comics.  Once a year on the first Saturday in May, we celebrate Free Comic Book Day (FCBD).  On that day, comic shops have special offerings from participating publishers that are free to the public.  Follow the link below to found out this year’s offerings and where you can find a participating LCS.  Then, go check out your LCS this Saturday and get some free comics. 

Pull List (5/2/2012): Earth 2 #1, G.I. Combat #1, Action Comics #8 (digital)

Pull List (FCBD): DC Comics: The New 52 Special Edition

Fat Tuesday 5/1/2012

The six of you (one of whom is my father and maaaaaybe my mother if she gets around to it) who read my blog are looking at the logo and likely wondering how my participation in Fat Tuesday is going to be much different than the last time I tried to participate in Fat Tuesday.  I applaud your critical thinking skills.  Mostly because I'm wondering the exact same thing.  But here are a few things for your reading pleasure:

1.  I like to eat.  Believe it or not, my eating repetoire tends to go the way of savory much more often than sweet.  I do like ice cream, but sweets are not my dietary issue.  Portion sizes may be...

2.  I've heard several people comment that they do not like organized religion.  Well, I do not like formal exercise.  I love to dance at prom, and I've been known to join a good game of capture-the-flag or tag.  But I do not like treadmills, ellipticals, stair climbers or gyms.  I do not like walking without an end destination (and I fully expect we have business at said destination) and I will not run unless someone is chasing me.  Actually, scratch that.  I probably wouldn't run even if someone was chasing me.

3.  I have PCOS.  A few of you are groaning, "Is she really bringing this up again?!  But it's necessary information because it means some foods are definitely on the "smaller portions" side of the table for me when other people can eat a regular helping.  Those foods aren't bad; my body just doesn't process them correctly.  It also means that a one pound loss for the week is a huge deal.  (You should also note that I'm never pleased with a one pound loss.)

4.  I get frustrated easily.  This isn't my first rodeo.  I've been dieting since I was 13.  So even though I know my body is slow to respond, my head hasn't really gotten in the game these last 19 years.  I still think I should show a 10 lb loss in two weeks.  I lose steam when other people don't even try and drop weight quickly and I haven't had a piece of bread in weeks and only lose 1.8 lbs.

With those things firmly planted in front of my face, let me line out my plan of attack.

*  I'm quitting Weight Watchers.  (I'm sorry, Casey.  We'll still talk.  I still plan to diet.  I'm just taking a different approach that WW doesn't measure well.)  Instead, I plan to use FitDay to track what I've eaten so I can find a more balanced approach to the calories.  (The only thing I don't like about FitDay is its lack of a recipe calculator.  C'mon.  What kind of person never needs to learn what a serving is in nutrients?!)  I'm setting a goal to track diligently for one month.

One month is the goal for now, right, Taylor?

*  I'm taking a diabetic approach to eating.  I do not have diabetes, but my body is insulin resistant.  That said, I'm attempting to regulate the carbs (and protein and fat) I eat in order to balance my blood sugar.  It doesn't mean I'm going low carb.  I've tried that, and it just doesn't work for me.  Instead, I'm learning to incorporate carbs as part of my meal instead of making them the entire meal.  I'll share some recipes here if you would like and give you the nutritional run-down...well, if I remember to take pictures and post them with my Fat Tuesday posts.

*  I will probably try to do something that looks like exercise during this month-long challenge.  I will also share the likely disastrous results.

My goal for next week?  Three pounds.

See you in seven days.

The Letter Series: Dear CIA

Dear CIA,

I understand that you think you have the market cornered on this whole "psychological warfare" dealy, but I think you are largely missing what it means to screw with someone's head.  I mean, sure, water boarding can definitely lead to an outbreak of crazy, but doesn't the beauty of screwing with someone lie in the ability to deny any sense of mea culpa in the incident?  Clearly, taking a towel and a pitcher every where you go screams, "Stuff is going to hit the fan and I'm going to be in the middle of it", no?

With that in mind, I'd like to introduce you to the more subtle sensibilities of Favorite, my husband, who is turning psychological warfare into an art.  Here, I will recount a recent story that documents his creative genius, and you can determine if his strategies are more effective than the routes you currently prefer.

Favorite's current employment does little in the way of encouraging employees.  Often that means the employees find their own sources of entertainment.  That fact alone should be enough to explain the reason Sasquatch shows up in more conversations than the state of our economy.  Many people believe discussions over his arguable existence are a waste of time, but not Favorite.  Favorite is willing to entertain the fantastic possibilities often ignored by regular people--like the Loch Ness monster, Area 51, and, of course, Sasquatch.

Really, though, Favorite's willingness is mild compared to those of his coworkers.  One man was so convinced of Sasquatch's existence, he made sightings and footprints regular conversation topics.  He referred to the beast as "Samscratch" and whole-heartedly believed someone, someday, would catch it, and the world would be privy to something he knew all along.

Favorite decided to make that happen.

In the name of science (or psychology, if you prefer), he set out to make this man believe he experienced a real Samscratch sighting.

For weeks, Favorite attempted to procure a Samscratch suit but was unsuccessful.  After randomly sharing his endeavors with a family member, he discovered a man who had purchased a gorilla costume at a yard sale because "it was a good price."  Believing there were similarities between Samscratch and a gorilla, and knowing the dark and the woods would make up for any discrepancies, Favorite took a chance.

He gathered his crack team of professionals and set out on the aptly named Samscratch adventure.

Three grown men (all over the age of 25) called a partner in crime to determine when the Believer left work and would be taking his usual route home.  Then, they set up camp off the side of the road, dressed in the gorilla suit and waited for the magic to happen.

Ten minutes into their wait, the Believer turned down his road.  Since the boys were aware of his headlights, they cued Samscratch who ran across the road--from one wooded area to another wooded area.  Then, they waited.

The Believer, who normally drove 30 mph, sped up to 60 mph, found a drive way and quickly turned around.  He slowly drove back to the area of the sighting carefully looking for the alleged Bigfoot.  The Partner in Crime, who was behind the Believer and also witnessed the "sighting", slowly drove past on his way home.  Eventually, the Believer left the scene of the crime and, we assume, made his way home.

The next day at work, the Partner in Crime asked the Believer about what he saw.  The Believer commented, "Well, that's something you just don't talk about unless you have a body."  He refused to discuss the incident with anyone else, and, according to Partner in Crime, freaked out about the whole ordeal.  And, honestly?  Who wouldn't?  It's not every day Samscratch ambles into the woods right before your very eyes.

I naively believed the experiment would end at this point.  The boys would share their story, everyone would get a laugh and we would finally move beyond the adventures of Samscratch.

But Favorite wasn't done.

He let the story marinate.  Every day, the Believer became a little more jumpy.  Every day, Favorite giggled a little more.

Finally, on the day of the Believer's retirement, Favorite gave him a card that included a picture of Samscratch...except, this time, Samscratch wasn't wearing a mask and he was standing with the rest of the crew who made the impossible a little more believable.

You'd think an experience like this would force the Believer to abandon any belief in the existence of BigFoot, but apparently it reinforced his faith in the mythical creature.

That said, I'm pretty sure this story is just one example of how your agency could create mental disturbance for its own use without all that "Ack, I'm drowning" nonsense.

Think it over.  Favorite is available to strategize to help central intelligence reach its full potential.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Gorilla Samscratch

The Consistency of Thought

Memories come to me in colors, smells and flavors.  I easily remember bright flashes of emotion tempered with the textures of clothing and skin.  One simple rendezvous with a benign item and I can close my eyes and see simple tableaus complicated by the stories that accompany them.

Sometimes, I'm jealous of people who can forget when quick encounters trigger vibrant, real recollections that tap my emotions. 

But those recollections draw me to the details.  I rarely miss an engagement ring or a new haircut.  I almost always notice girls who experiment with make-up for the first time and I love a new pair of shoes.  I'm drawn to personalities indicated through regular conversation or quiet expressions.  And I see a lot of them.  People show an awful lot of themselves if they know someone is willing to look.

The colors, smells, flavors come in waves--steady and unpredictable--that ask to be seen and shared.  Lately, I've had a hard time putting words to the current of scenes that steadily flash in front of my eyes minute by minute.

Favorite, as he makes tea and fills my water bottles in the morning.
The red fox who visits my basement weekly.
My students who furrow eyebrows and stare in frustration at computer screens that don't quite capture the depth of their intelligence.
My mother, as she laughs into the phone over a funny story.
My father who shakes his head in amusing frustration over a silly dog who has already stolen his heart.
The trees, planted by hands I never saw, painted against the pinks of a smoky spring sky.

My heart is taken captive by the music that accompanies every image.  Every color.  Every smell and flavor. 

Woven in all the intricacies of life, I can see Christ's hand.  Sometimes, the clouds catch the light just right and I smell eternity for one brief second before everything shifts.  When that happens, things taste a bit brighter; my eyes aren't quite as foggy.

I can exhale with the relaxed understanding that He gives and He takes away.  Blessed be His name (Job 1:21).

And when the picture isn't perfect and the smells aren't inviting and the colors aren't so bright?  I'm learning to bless His name anyway.  Even when things are in a constant, repetitive loop.

Seeing the same scenery and circling the same emotions isn't something I'm trying to overcome.  Working through doesn't really seem to imply working out.  Instead, He's working to create consistency in me--to worship and thankfulness.

The flavors are the same--bitter, sweet, salty, sour.  So are the smells.  But the details are a little different when I am displaced for Him.  I'm not the heroine.

So instead of circling Me when I'm overwhelmed with sensory experience, I'm learning to bend a knee to Him. 

Not to change where I am or where I have been, but to change who I am.

Day in the Life

Antihistamines and decongestants are awesome medicines.  They help clear up allergies and save a lot of people a lot of distress, but they make me act drunk.

So when my allergies get ridiculously bad, I have two options:
1.  Take the medicine and know that I will be out of commission for a minimum of 20 hours.
2.  Don't take the medicine and take my chances with the pollen.

So work?  Was a no-go today.  (I tried number two first and then defaulted to number one.)  And mostly, that got me to thinking about how much I lack when it comes to being a farm wife.

I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to get up at 5 am, cook a huge breakfast, do all the laundry, keep my pantry/fridge stocked and knit all the farm hands their own underwear.  Isn't that what Ree does on a daily basis?  (Sure, if you add homeschooling, taking amazing photographs and cooking three more meals to that schedule...and all looking gorgeous, younger than she is and happy.)

But who can fill this space on the couch beside a furry, little (questionably) shih tzu who demands attention?

My old, sick butt.

Aren't you jealous?