the standoff has come to an end (and the scale I bought is probably defective)

Sarah came to get me early this morning so we could collapse the necessity of shopping for groceries with some hang time. I regaled her with the anecdote of my underarms' unfortunate encounter with Nair yesterday afternoon (they are still in recovery) on our way to the wholesale club.

Before heading out to a sushi lunch, we dropped off her groceries and mine at her apartment. She commented that I looked thinner, even, than I did last week, so I weighed myself on her scale (the scale I'd been weighing myself on since I started this weight loss process, until I got my own two weeks ago)...I was delighted to see that I am 5 pounds lighter than I thought I was!

So, while I do think there was something of a small scale (no pun intended) plateau in place, the psychological damage of weighing myself on an inaccurate scale cannot be discounted. My sister told me she thought it was off when she weighed herself because it gave her a much higher reading than seemed right to her.

After Sarah brought me back home and I put away all my wares, Caryl and I did the Hampden strip (We hadn't been since she got here two months ago!). Cabs were scarce when we were ready to head back home, so we walked it. Not too bad. It's significantly cooler today than it was last week, for which I was extremely grateful.

For dinner, we made a meal of portabella burgers and spinach salad. I signed up for EDiets on Friday morning, but have found it hard to eat according to the meal plan so far because my weekend has featured three meals out. It should be much easier to stick to consistently during the week. I did manage to eat the recommended lunch on Friday, breakfast and lunch on Saturday, and a revised version of the suggested breakfast this morning, though. I figure it this way: it's more about varying what I'm eating enough for my body to get enough of what it needs, so any variations on the reccommended themes should still work out well.

We'll see. I'll try it for a month, but I may be doing well enough on my own afterall.

The Postman Always Validates Twice

I just took out my garbage. On my way back in, I ran into the postman who services my building. He and I have a degree of friendliness between us, so chitchat on the few and far between occasions that I see him are the norm.

As I was waiting for the elevator he asked "you losing weight?"
I indicated that I was... and still going, to which he chuckled and said "I see!"

I thought it was cool that he felt free to say something. Most people, in general, but men, especially, are hesitant to comment on such matters (even when it's obvious) because weight (loss or gain) is such a private matter, and if you do say something and are wrong, it can be doubly embarrassing.

In any case, my mailman has no such hangups, and his remark made my day so far.

Litte Italy

Caryl and I joined E, J, and another mutual friend of their's for a scrumptuous feast at Chiapparelli's last evening. Because E and the manager are solid chums, he comped us fried calamari and drinks. The conversation was spirited and full of anecdotes. E's chum, the manager, joined us at the table when he had a few minutes and regaled us with stories of his parochial school days, which featured these characaters he called 'The Fitzgerald Twins.' I'm telling you it was priceless...

especially the inexplicable spark I felt whenever I made eye contact with said manager.

Let's just get this out of the way, first thing. The workout was lame last night. I went through the day with a crazy amount of energy (reserves, I think, because I don't usually work out on Wednesdays), so I thought I was going to sail through it, totally in the zone. I don't think I saw a glimpse of the zone last night. My body just couldn't do it.

I went home dejected and ate my fish fillet and asparagus feeling like none of it really mattered.
I'm supposed to be going out to eat dinner in Little Italy tonight, and I'm just not looking forward to having to negotiate some highly caloric meal. For those who struggle with weight, food is such a double-edged sword. Sometimes I hate that I even need to eat. But then, I deeply appreciate the aromas, the textures, the complexity of tastes that so many foods boast. It's not about mere consumption. It's a sensual experience. In any case, I'm not in a terrific frame of mind about it just now.

I'm starting Ediets today, so I should meander on over to their site and get set up.

Because it shouldn't be a total waste of effort...

To read the first installment of my ne'er completed "romance novel" (please remember, I was writing in the genre of truly pointless and inane "literature") click here.

Damage Control

Whenever a celebrity has a personal crisis, I find that I have an intuitive take on how he or she should conduct him or herself during said crisis. I think I would make an excellent publicist. I'm of the "less is more" school of thought; what is needed after a round of bad press, harsh criticism, or a devastating divorce from a Golden Boy who cavorts with his new Avante Garde, but as-yet-unadmitted lovah is a low profile. You need to go "deep deep undercover," creating a shroud of intrigue around yourself, and therefore public curiousity. Do not underestimate public curiousity. It usually translates to a vibe of general well-being. But, it is not simply about hiding. If you become a recluse, then you could well be part of the celebrity ick factor, or the apathy factor, which is just as bad.

Nicole Kidman is the mistress of the selective appearances & low-profile tactic. She worked hard in the period shortly after her very public and much-speculated upon divorce, said almost nothing of her private life, and let her movies speak for themselves.

What Mariah Carey should have done after "Glitter" flopped and she was summarily dismissed from her record label is a) put on some more clothes, b) not commented on the debacle in public ever again, unless it was to say philosophically innocuous things, and c) made her next album a tasteful departure from the sexy ingenue (a part she's now too old to play) "thing," that featured songs that showed off her voice (say what you will about her, she can sing, even if one doesn't like the style) more than her cleavage.

In any case, I often think about what I would do if my life's miseries were covered with the same scrutiny that celebrities' lives are followed. Picture the Headline:

Poet's Friendship With The Artiste is Neo-Renaissance Tragedy!

or...

Painter to Wed! Krupnik to Shed...Pounds and Tears!

And then what if there was public, workplace and grocery store shopping gossip about the reasons behind my downfall, people secretly or not so secretly thrilled that I failed?

In any case, I live my life, as much as possible, trying to avoid being embarrassed, which is why I give this kind of thing so much thought. Eventually, if you don't stoke a fire, it will die out...and you'll be a bit singed, but not destroyed. Heck. Even your enemies will have to give you props for "not going out like that."

I woke up to a sound that I assumed was a bird that had somehow gotten caught in my air conditioning unit. The clanging and agitated whirring sounded like what I imagine Armageddon will. Disoriented with sleep, I finally came around to the understanding that a terrible thunderstorm, complete with hail, was underway.

Unbeknownst to me, Caryl had been kept up the better part of the night with stomach pains. As for me, my throat continues to be a bother, and it was especially raw this morning at about 5:35 when the clamour and clatter of the elements roused me, prematurely, from my sleep. We both called in sick. I could not imagine standing out in that weather waiting for the bus, feeling the way that I felt.

After several more hours of sleep, I felt significantly better, so got up and prepared to go the gym. I love going during non-peak hours! I enjoyed an extensive lifting routine along with my elliptical and stairmaster stints. For the last couple of days, I've been working out to "Worship in the House," which is a gospel album, and it has really been inspiring to push myself to go the distance as I listen to a choir sing rousing, uplifting songs based on scriptures such as "not by power, not by might, but by my spirit," says the Lord. If I had a weightloss mantra, that would be it.

Later in the day, Sarah (who was also home today) came to get me and we hung out at the Barnes & Noble in Towson reading magazines and books on dieting. I drank an unsweetened green tea while I learned that Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie are on the outs! How can the universe bear up under such a rift?!

The Weekend in Review

On Friday night Caryl and I had a very sitcom-esque evening. Cue the chickflick and Chinese Take out (Mongolian Beef for me; General Tso's Chicken for her). After the movie ended, I went to the gym. It was only an hour before closing, but that was plenty of time to get in my elliptical fix. I stopped short of my goal though, because I felt a slight tightness in my chest. I knew it wasn't pathological, but I also assessed that I should not keep going. Burning 300 calories seemed respectful enough, so I disembarked and headed on back home.

Saturday, Caryl had to work. I took the morning to do laundry, scrub down the bathroom and kitchen, and do general tidying. Since my sister met up with a friend after she left the office, I had the better part of the afternoon/early evening to myself, too, so I went to the gym for a full elliptical workout and lifting session.

When Caryl returned from her paddleboat outing at the Harbor, we were so happy to see each other; we were talking animatedly, jumping on the freshly made bed, and listening to America's Greatest Hits (Horse With No Name, Ventura Highway, Tinman, etc.).

At about 9, Sarah and Michael came to get me. We went out for Rita's. I got a raspberry gelatti. We finalized plans for Caryl and I to help Michael move into Sarah's apartment today...

This morning, I went to the 9 o'clock service since Michael was expected to show up at my place at about 11, but it was pushed back to 12:30, so I went to the gym and had a great aerobic workout. I love to sneak it in whenver I can. I received a notice in the mail yesterday that it's time to renew my membership. The 50 dollars I spent when I joined in April (good through the end of August) is the best money I've ever spent. A sound investment. I can't wait to write them a new check.

Downsizing and Rethinking

The cable guy came this afternoon to take away the digital box and to take me down to the "expanded basic" service. For the last half a year I've had digital cable for half the price and free HBO and Showtime as part of a special promotion. As that promotion was about to end, and I did not want to pay for that particular package at full price, I knew I needed to take a step to save my wallet before I started incurring charges.

Now, a bit more radical for me...I'm doing the one thing I thought I would never do. I'm getting rid of my home telephone line. For someone who gets called by an average of 3 people (one of whom lives with me, for the next few weeks anyway), there is no way on Earth that I need two full service phones. I am infinitely reachable, yet no one ever really needs to reach me. That will eliminate a huge bill (my home line is complete with caller ID, caller intercept, call waiting, and long distance), and will make me feel a little less ridiculous.

Now for the cat thing....

Having gone back and forth about this, I decided that my original thought to bring a cat into my life while my sister is living with me is not the wisest thing for the animal since my apartment is in transition, and space is limited now. So I had decided (after listening to Sarah's counsel)to wait until the fall.

However, because I also really want to move as soon as possible, and am uncomplicating my life to that end, it seems like the worst time to bring a helpless, living creature into a situation that is in psychological flux. So, I am waiting for a better, as yet undetermined time. This issue is offically back burner for now.

Touch and Go...

I noticed that I felt run down last night as I was starting my workout. I managed to complete the alloted time at the gym, but before the hour was over, I also noticed that my throat felt a little, well, questionable...

Throat maladies have been more common for me in recent years, and I immediately started to worry, because I don't have the luxury, time-wise of taking off work to go to the doctor. Obviously, I would just prefer to be well. When I'm ill, I'm a complete grouch, because the one thing I hate more than anything else is being incapacitated. Talk about feeling powerless.

I prayed that with water, good rest, and nutritous food (and herbal tea) that this whole thing will just pass.

I'm no worse for wear this morning, though I feel the wannabe bug lingering. I'm hoping that the hibiscus brew I drank, all the water I plan on drinking, and the honey I put in my oatmeal (honey has tremendous healing properties) will stave off the beast.

Send me good thoughts, and if you're the praying kind, please do!

Happy Friday, everybody!

Back to Basics...

I have really slacked off where water intake is concerned. I'm still not drinking other beverages (except unsweetened, usually, hot tea), but I think I may be dehydrated, so I'm going to try being intentional about water again and seeing if that doesn't help things along.

Caryl joined me last night at the silent & sung prayer service, but I went on to the Graduate Christian Fellowship meeting alone. Over the course of the evening, via prayer request, or conversation, I found out that two regular attendees, both of whom are white, are having a difficult time with acceptance by their families because they are dating people who are not white, or the other person's family cannot accept it...

Some of you may remember my post on the glass ceiling in the Christian Community from a few weeks ago, and while I think that definitely still exists, I was heartened that two believers in this specific community have not let race stand in their way when following their hearts. It amazes me that Christian parents would put race/nationalistic concerns above the will of God for their children. How can Christians not be open to others, if for no other reason, than the very edicts and tenents of their own faith?!

My favourite lame excuse is "We just want to protect you from what others will say, do, think..." Bull. at the heart of such disapproval is straight up prejudice/racism.

Okay, totally unrelated. I think it would be so cool to date a cop.

One more thing...

My professor and I are finally getting together, in about a week's time, to discuss my final paper from last semester. I'll provide details of said meeting if there are any even remotely interesting ones...

Metabo-Girl

Okay, so my metabolism is super amped, and I basically cannot stop eating. Granted, I'm eating things like puffed millet and organic oatmeal (breafkast), a protein bar for a snack, and collard greens with garlic & baby portabellas with brown rice for lunch (had to go out for chicken salad, though, because my body really needs a lot of protein), and water, for goodness' sake, but please! After the chicken salad (with almonds and apricots...delish!) I finally felt sated...

Then day 2 of the mysterious afternoon headache began. I resisted the urge to make a pot of coffee for about 3 hours. Now I'm having a cup because I am not getting jack done at la oficina, which makes Kate a very bad editor (hello, we've got another ridiculous deadline). I feel like my body is going through its own personal existential crisis, independent of my id, superego, and ego. They're all marvy for the time being. My body, on the other hand, is all confused about what's happening to it. I mean, clamoring for coffee, generating headaches, refusing to stop eating (albeit, healthily)...pure adolescent rebellion.

In thinking about the quiet, reflective prayer service I'm attending tonight, I realized that I really shouldn't go into it as tired as I am. Sitting there in the dim, candlelit room is going to be good for napping, not tapping into the heart of God... i'm not hungry, per se, but I feel a need for something I cannot name.

What does my body want from me. I'm trying to treat it well for the first time in about 17 years and this is the thanks I get!

I dreamed, among other things, that I was weighed at a shopping mall...by a woman with one of those scales you might find in a doctor's office. The weight she told me is 20 pounds less than what I currently weigh (in the waking world). And I even asked her... "don't you mean ___lbs?" She assured me that she was correct. I guess it's just my mind's way of telling me that I am making progress.

I put my scale away last night. If I didn't, I knew I would just keep weighing myself, and everyone agrees that that is antithetical to progress. It's good to have on hand, but it's still too soon for me to have it out all the time.

The morning is just beginning, but I am in a terrific mood. I'm wearing some clothes my sister lent me, and because they fit, I look significantly thinner. In the latest issue of O magazine there is an article on "the last ten pounds" (I have much farther than that to go) and the toll that psychological battle takes on women. The advisors at this panel advised some of the women to think long and hard about what that last ten pounds would mean...were they really committed...did they even need to lose it? etc.

Today is the first full day of Caryl's and my bus commuting life. Yesterday evening things worked out (the buses actually came and on time), so here's to hoping the trend continues.

Million Dollar What?

Finally got around to watching "Million Dollar Baby," via Netflix delivery yesterday evening. The film, though well acted, was unnecessarily defeatist, esp. for a boxing drama. I like gritty reality, loose ends, and tough choices as much as the next person...but I felt set up by this film for one thing, and got handed something different at the end. Many would say this is effective filmmaking. I thought it was non-triumphant. I won't say more for the benefit of those who are planning to, but have yet to see it.

Gratitude item of the day:

Michael called last night. Because he has business in the city at about 7:30 this morning, he is giving Caryl and me a ride in...our carpooling gravy train ended on Friday afternoon, officially, so when he called last night to ask if we'd like one more ride, the answer was easy...

Gratitude

My worries, of late, have been legion. But, in remembering the scriptures, I come back to one truth. Gratitude to God for what He has already accomplished in my life is the antitode to worry.

I have decided that regardless of the managament company's response to my resident complaint letter, I will be grateful for my apartment, which was and is a gift from God.

I have decided that regardless of what the scale says, I will believe that God is in this process of weight-loss with me, and that my body is changing. I will eat as well as I can as much as I can, but I will not cease to live, and as an expression of gratitude toward the Lord, I will enjoy the bounty of his provision also by partaking of delicacies from time to time, and recieve those, too, as a gift He has given me to delight me.

I have decided that regardless of my boss's decision regarding a nominal acknowledgment of my seniority at work, I will not put my confidence in any man's recognition of my efforts, but will trust in God's justice to prevail in my life at exactly the right time.

"I'll Have the Shrimp."

Caryl, myself, and another coworker took Michael, whose last day here at The Company is today, out to lunch. We chose The Cheesecake Factory at the Inner Harbor because it's somewhat opulent (for lunch, anyway)and because I hadn't had good cheesecake in a long, long time.

Before the meal, Caryl and I trekked over to Barnes & Noble to pick up a couple of thank you gifts for Michael, who carpooled us to and from work for the last month and a half (and of course me for significantly longer than that).

On other fronts, I asked for some recognition at the workplace... nominal as opposed to monetary. After being the one permanent employee to occupy my specific role, the higher-ups are bringing on other staff. I asked for a title change to reflect/indicate my setting the precedence for many of the initiatives we now have in place.

My immediate manager understood my concern and said she would talk it over with her boss. The thing is, I had the idea to do this months ago, long before I even knew others would be brought on board...but I decided to wait until after the review period.

The increase I was given this year was a very generous one, so I'm content with that for now, but really believe I deserve the nod of a change in title. We'll see what happens... I struggled with feeling that maybe I was being a glory hound, but the feeling that I should ask now kept nagging me, so I decided to listen to my instincts.

Taizé

Upon entering the chapel, I immediately sensed the palpable presence of quietude. I took my seat in one of the pews...just one of 5 other attendants (not counting the two musicians), and assumed my role in the worshipful silence of the service.
Taizé is a silent and sung prayer service named for a region in France where a seminary student introduced the idea over 40 years ago. I was charmed by it because it has all of the appropriate solemnity and the aesthetics of a Catholic or Anglican service, but in a protestant setting.

Afterward, I walked to the Graduate Christian Fellowship meeting where I had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of an artist (and her chemist boyfriend). I really see the providential hand of God in not only giving me peace about continuing to go, as I'm able, to these meetings, but in showing me that he is mindful of my concerns as a Christian artist (namely, the need to make connections with similar people).

I have been unable to focus on anything work-related for the last couple of hours. So easy to jabber with coworkers about nothing in particular. Sometimes the mood is right and you end up "visiting" with your cubicle neighbor for half an hour.

Am very much looking forward to the prayer service tonight and then to Graduate Christian Fellowship. It's interesting to me that once I decided I didn't have to go, I started to really look forward to going.

Have started work on a letter to the management company of my apartment building. We'll see if I can't finagle a lease termination on their dime....

Came across this coffee tidbit this morning... explains a lot about a certain Coffeeshop Monopoly's brew...not that I am a slave to Java any longer, but you know...

I am so glad that Friday is pay day because it means I can replenish my dwindled supply of fruits and fresh vegetables. Last night for dinner I had toaster waffles, which are not that bad at 210 calories for a serving of two, and 100 extra with syrup added, but still. After the gym (and the workout rocked last night. I stayed in the zone!)I had a smoothie, said waffles, and broccoli. You don't have to say it. I know. Gross. And weird. And what?

So frustrated with the scale right now! It is not telling me the same thing that my clothes are. This past week it read exactly what it read two weeks ago. I can understand that it's reading isn't always accurate, and I know about building muscle, and blah, blah, blah... but I think in terms of quantifiable, measurable achievement. For me to not see the scale validating what I can feel drives me nuts.

I've worked out every day for the last 7 or 8 days. Wednesday will be my day off of any kind of workout. I have two evening engagements (prayer at church, then Bible Study) back to back. Balance is still key, and a night that I can devote to spiritual things will provide a contrast to physical stuff.

Have a meeting in about an hour that I so don't want to go to...

I need some excitement or something. I really enjoyed that period a while back where I had a social engagement almost every night. That pace was good for me. It kept me mentally engaged. A lack of external stimulation is absolutely the worst for me.

Caught a bit of VH-1's "40 Most Awesomely Bad Break-up Songs" this weekend. In the top 10 were several classics, including Chicago's "You're a Hard Habit to Break," Michael Bolton's "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?", and Toto's "I'll Be Over You." I tell you, I love each of these songs, without irony or apology.

When I say I love them, I don't mean that any one of them is an overarching favourite of mine, but more that at different points in my life, each of them has been a fitting recap of my non-existent love relationships, in some way shape or form, and for that reason alone, holds a special place in my heart.

The funniest thing about these VH-1 roundups are the c-list celebrity commentaries. Seriously, I could watch those things all day....

On the horizon: I'm mobilizing to move. When I make changes, I like to make several all at once. In the immediate P.G. era, everything is up for grabs. I'm soon to be a different girl, and that can only be good.

I checked out the "casual" service at 2nd Presbyterian on St. Paul street this morning. It was very non-threatening, very basic. I want to try out the traditional service next week at 11 to figure out which one of the two I'd prefer. I suspect I'll get more out of the traditional one. I'm just not feeling very inspired or challenged by Church lately... I don't know if 2nd Pres is going to provide that jump start or not, but the church is accessible to me, and it does have resources that could benefit me. For example, on Wednesday nights they feature a silent and sung prayer service. I'd like to go sometime, maybe even this week before Graduate Christian Fellowship.

I am so tired of feeling disenfranchised where the community of faith is concerned. I feel very strongly that I need to find a credible body of believers to which I can belong, and with whom I can serve.

Salt

During one of my less "inspired" workouts this week (I stopped before the time I'd allotted had run out; I was too exhausted and felt my body shutting down), I noticed something. When I went to swig my water before getting off the elliptical, it tasted like pure salt.

Later this week, when donning a shirt for a workout (that I'd also worn to the gym earlier in the week), I noticed a white ring on the front of it that vaguely outlined the area where my bra begins...and I wondered if this white ring could be some kind of salt deposit...is that even possible?

In any case, this has been a banner week for me where fitness is concerned. I've doubled up on workouts many days, going both to the gym and then doing both aerobic and strengthening routines at home. I don't know what I weigh yet, but I know there has been a loss.

The coffeetable thing was a bust. A "representative" of the furniture company did come out--stuttering and mumblemouthed though he was. From what I could glean, it seems that this particular kind of damage is the kind I would be charged for, because it would require a complete resanding and restaining of the table. I asked him what, exactly, the "furniture protection" I had paid for was good for. He didn't really have an answer for me. So, I think what he said is that someone is going to call me at some point and figure things out.

It was a complete waste of my time to arrange to work from home yesterday. But... I couldn't have known that would be the case.

Something new on the horizon: I am visiting a church that is walking distance from my apartment tomorrow morning. I've been there once previously, in May of 1998 for a wedding. I went out walking on Monday evening, and realized that this might be a better option for me than basing my church attendance on whether or not I have cab fare.

Baltimore Has Crabs...

Fini

After an exhausting day of e-mailing treatises and awaiting replies, everything has been said. Only the most truly negligible details are left undiscussed, and to be Rilke-esque, I have to say that whatever has not been said now, will not be.

He knows everything. We have agreed that I am moving on, that he understands why I cannot come to his wedding, and that we want each other to be happy.

But before this, things were rather bad. He did not respond well to Sarah's initial e-mail, and for a few hours it seemed that his last impression of me would be that I was a disingenuous phony...someone who proffered a face of friendship, while really just biding her time, hoping simply to win his heart. His reply to Sarah was scathing, and not a little mean.

I understood why he might think those things of me. I have wondered if this was not true, myself, in the past. But I could not let that be the standing account of the last six years of my life.

So, I had to write him and set the record straight once and for all. I explained the painful duality of caring for him very much as a friend, and caring for him much more deeply than that, never being able to let that twain meet within myself.

His initial reaction was the very reason I lived in fear of ever saying anything. Loving men has always been tantamount to losing them... And at the end of this, what I am left with are his wishes for my best, and the thought that he thinks I am a brilliant writer and poet...in fact a better poet than he is a painter.

And that, my friends, is what six years comes out to.

I suffered him to have him, and now I don't have him, yet I suffer.

Unburdening

He wrote to ask me why I won't be attending. As what he called his "dear friend," he hopes that I will come if at all possible, and assured me that I did not have to tell my reason to him if it is too personal, or if I don't want to...but to please know that he would like me to come.

I felt so bad for him reading the few, plaintive lines. In that moment, I wished I was a different kind of person...one who had not loved him as I did...one who simply had enjoyed his friendship and wanted his best...someone who would not dare miss the wedding of someone so important to her. If the best part of our friendship could have been distilled, the part in which we were just two angsty artists trying our best to be good Christians, sarcastic, kind of melancholic in disposition, equally scarred by our childhoods, generous souls...then maybe I could watch him make his vows, then maybe I could be more happy for him than anyone else, because I would know what a miracle it is that he finally found someone...

For the last couple of weeks, Sarah has been planning to tell him how she has felt about the six years that comprise our friendship (his and mine), and what she perceives to be his lack of acknowledgment, and in some cases his slipshod regard of me, simply as a person...

When I called her and told her that he'd asked, her plan to write him was expedited, and she wrote and sent what I believe is the best possible letter to him that speaks to the "state of the union," regarding this matter.

I have been saving face for half a decade. Wanting to be known, but fearing that my only hope of having any part of him was utterly dependent upon remaining hidden, decorum personified, never pushing past a certain point.

When he asked me, and allowed for my reasons being too personal to share, I wondered. What "personal" reasons would or could ever keep one friend from another's wedding, without that person having some inkling as to what those reasons are?

This is the truth's hour to strut upon the stage and have its say at last.

Relieved

I am so ready to be going back to work. Too much time off can be disorienting, and I find that I need the comfort of my daily routine to help refocus my healthy eating and exercise efforts. Eating is very contextual, and it is easier for me to get enough water and eat only when I'm hungry when my day is shaped around the context of the office.

I got in two walks yesterday and two high-impact aerobic routines (via fitness DVD), but I was largely bored (having absolutely no plans yesterday), and for me that often leads to phantom hunger pangs. Defacing my coffee table also frustrated me. Even though something will be done about it, I couldn't do anything about it yesterday, which made me feel powerless. All of my clothes are too big to wear, yet I know that between water-retention and indulgences last weekend, there was no loss, but an apparent gain. I just can't totally psych myself out about this weighing thing. It doesn't matter that I know the scale can be deceptive at times. It made me feel like complete crap.

Money is going to be ridiculously tight until my next pay period (rent!), and I'm starting behind, because money from that next check is largely commandeered already.

Okay, enough of this! I need some perspective...anyone have any?

Found Things

Removing some nail polish this morning, I inadvertently damaged a few spots on my dark chocolate coffee table surface. Remembering that I purchased furniture protection on this piece, I went in search of my warranty agreement, and came across a few of the photos and other tangible remnants of my feelings for/relationship with the artiste. One of these is an e-mail trail from about two years ago, after a museum outing...I could only read a little of it. Another item is the canceled check for the first painting of his that I ever bought, yet another a poem that a former friend wrote for me, in which she asserted her belief that this time I would not be disappointed by unrequited love. I am keeping these things because they all came from a pure, honest place...and in truth, the point is not to remove any indication that I ever knew him. And I have already thrown out many things that would have been cumbersome or foolish to keep.

I have wondered, absently, about each of these things from time to time...and as is always the case, I stumbled upon them when they were far from my consideration. I found them the morning after the night I wrote him to tell him that I would not be attending his wedding, with no explanation as to why.

About one week ago he wrote me seeking my postal address, and the only reasonable explanation for why he'd need that is for the purpose of sending me an invitation. The invitation I do not want to receive.

If this were 10 years ago, I would feel that I owed it to him, as his friend, to be there...my own heartache be damned. But I am an old lady now, and am not so enamored of emotional martyrdom as I once was.

The warranty was mixed in with these things. They're coming out on Friday to repair my table.

Long Weekend Post

Starting Thursday night through this morning, I was with Sarah celebrating her birthday. On Friday we tooled about town, trying new, fabulous restaurants, getting manicures, and running errands. We (Michael joined us by this point) finished off her 30th with dinner at The Helmand. After all this delectable food, we went back to her apartment to open up her presents and to eat cake.

The next day we spent in Havre de Grace riding on the Skipjack Martha Lewis, eating homemade ice cream at the Bomboy (yes, bom BOY)ice cream shoppe (I got a single scoop of Raspberry Truffle), and dining in the evening at Aquatica. It isn't much to look at from the outside, but inside the decor is very tasteful, and the food far exceeded my expectations. Sarah's coworker's son is the chef and owner of this jewel of the Chesapeake. We began with the baked brie, mussels, and the Crab, spinach, and artichoke dip. Michael got the Tillapia, Sarah the stuffed Mahi-Mahi, Nigel (Sarah's longtime friend) the Delmonico, and I the Chicken Aquatica. A lovely, unassuming Shiraz complemented the food, and we rounded out the experience by sharing in Sarah's complimentary banana bread pudding dessert.

I opted to spend one more night at Sarah's place. Now that I have become accustomed to having company at the apartment, I didn't want to come back to my place to spend the night alone. Caryl is away for the weekend. But I knew I'd have to face the music eventually, so this morning before their day at the Science Center, Sarah and Michael dropped me off at my place. I immediately dressed for a workout and headed over the gym to pay for all my indulgences this weekend.

Now I'm accustomed to being back here at my little place with no one else around.