The silence of the handbags

November 6th, 2011 3 Encouraging Words

It’s been a rough two weeks, I’ve not been eating healthy and I have not been to the gym or engaged in any serious exercise.

Had a doctor’s appointment on Friday for a bladder infection, something I get when I haven’t been drinking enough water. My blood pressure was way, way up and I’ve gained three pounds.

Like I said, it’s been rough.

"We'll probably find her wandering the streets, hair astray and overdone makeup, muttering to herself wearing orthopedic shoes." -- Michael Kors, if he's ever asked, "Where's Nona?"

Today I thought I would try a little retail therapy to lift me out of my malaise. I needed another pair of jeans, so I went to Macy’s. While I was there, I thought about my upcoming birthday and I thought maybe I’d like a new purse. Macy’s was having an extra 20 percent off items that were already on sale. So I started wandering around the tables of clutches, shoulder and messenger bags.

I think the purse you carry says a lot about you, at least it does to people who notice that sort of thing.

For instance, I have been carrying a caramel-colored, cross-body shoulder bag that I bought at the Clark’s store in Indianapolis. This very practical purse says to any sharp observer: “I wear sensible shoes!”

So I wanted to make a more hip and cool fashion statement about myself. And that’s when the screaming started. Not a single designer bag seemed hip or cool, just noisy.

 

 

 

 

  • Etienne Aigner: “I had a monogrammed sweater in every color in the 80s!”
  • Michael Kors: “I’ve never missed an episode of Project Runway!”
  • Besty Johnson: “I want to be a Real Housewife from New Jersey!”
  • Lucky Brand: “I rock the Bohemian look here at the mall!”
  • Dooney and Burke: “I vote Republican and my platinum card is almost maxed out!”

They all seemed to send the wrong message (or in the case of Michael Kors, the right message) and I also didn’t find anything I really liked.  I tweeted about the screaming of the bags.

Someone asked me via Twitter what does Coach or Chanel say? If I am carrying it, it says, “Look what I found for $100 at T.J. Maxx!”

And, by the way, if I am ever carrying Kate Spade or Prada, it says “Look at this great knockoff I got near Columbus Circle in Manhattan!”

As retail therapy goes, this was a bust. So I left Macy’s feeling defeated and without a new purse.

If buying a new handbag is this stressful, this is a pretty good clue to me that my collective shit is just not holding together these days. Nothing in my life is going to feel OK until I get my emotions in check, and that does not bode well for the diet.

It also means that, despite my constant denial, maybe I am not really hip or cool. Michael Kors would not approve.

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Week full of fail

November 1st, 2011 2 Encouraging Words

Nobody’s perfect.

Weeks of working on my coping skills to get to the point that I could find peace in something other than chocolate went up in smoke in the last few days. Most of the gnawing  anxiety is work-related, so I won’t go into detail because:

  • I’m a a professional
  • The details are boring to anyone but me
  • I like being employed

So let’s just go with work-blah-blah-blah has been rough and so Friday night I bought cookies. And a wee bit of ice cream. And caramel apples with nuts because that is my seasonal Kryptonite.

And then Halloween happened and there are all these fun size candy bars that the little beggars didn’t claim that I may or may not have consumed for breakfast this morning.

And today, after I wasted 30 minutes stuck in a drive-thru bank lane behind some asshole in a beat-up pick-up who must have been refinancing his house, I *tried* to order a low-WW-Points sandwich from a drive thru.  But the surly chick at the window got really rude with me because I pointed out she was charging me for the wrong order and so I did what I always do when I’m mad: I left without buying any food.

Hello, Burger King double cheeseburger. You were convenient, fast and the young lady at the window was sweet, smiling and has been the brightest spot of my shitty lunch hour.

In other words, I haven’t done much toward the weight loss goal in the last seven days.

But shit happens. I didn’t pile on all this weight in a matter of days the first time, I can’t lose it all in the same amount of time. You cannot buy coping skills on Amazon or eBay, because I’ve looked, and old habits are hard to break. And caramel apples with nuts are just wonderful and they really do make it all better. At least for a few minutes.

I may need to seek professional therapy and a personal trainer before pecan pie season, which starts today, is more than I can resist.

 

 

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The love story behind the monkey

October 29th, 2011 1 Encouragement

My husband loves me a lot. I know that and he really doesn’t have to do anything to prove it. But sometimes he does anyway and it’s awesome.

Your coffee, my lady.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is Marky Mark (standing among a Funky Bunch of Bananas) and he is my new monkey butler.

Reaction to my original tumblr and Twitter posts about Marky Mark were not positive. “Terrifying” and “creepy” were the most common adjectives, but I think that’s just because many people do not appreciate unconventional beauty. And they do not know Marky Mark’s back story.

In September 2010, my husband Phil and I were in Nashville to attend the wedding of our friends’ daughter. The day of the wedding we realized that Phil had not packed a tie. So we went to Stein Mart, an eclectic discount retail chain just down the street from the hotel.

Stein Mart carries clothes, shoes and housewares. I suspect it gets a lot of its merchandise in unsold lots from wholesalers, because frankly, it’s pretty bizarre and you always see something different on every visit. As we wandered through the decor, I spotted a 3-foot smiling monkey, sporting a jaunty fez and gleefully holding a tray.

It was gloriously kitschy, borderline tacky, and undeniably awesome. I was in love.

Phil, however, was unconvinced that the monkey butler needed to become part of our family. Despite my pleas, which he assumed was just me trying to cajole him into making a ridiculous purchase, we left the store sans the smiling simian servant.

And in the past year, I have never let Phil forget it.

Every time I was unhappy, I mentioned I also don’t have a monkey to hold my drinks.

When The Bloggess purchased a giant metal chicken that she named Beyonce, I reminded Phil that there is a gallery here in town that features a giant metal zoo– grasshoppers, chickens, praying mantis — and I have never made a single purchase. All I ever wanted was a monkey butler. Sigh.

When The Bloggess purchased a mongoose-cobra-taxidermy death-match scene, I once again said, “See! All I wanted was a monkey butler. Which is far less creepy than a dead snake and an also-dead mangy mongoose. But I didn’t get a monkey butler, did I?” Sigh.

Little did I know, that as my husband was saying that he felt great camaraderie with Jenny’s husband Victor (Phil has also ended conversations with me by announcing he’s not talking to me anymore) that he had decided to shut me up make me happy by finally getting me my own personal primate.

Days later, as we were getting our drink on sipping cocktails on the sofa, FedEx knocks on our door.

MY MONKEY BUTLER!

My husband spent a lot of time scouring the Internet for a monkey butler ( actually, he spent just a few minutes because you can find almost anything instantly on the Internet apparently) that would complement our decor. He even consulted a mutual friend to test the awesomeness of various drink-holding chimps.

He finally found this happy fellow with a Harlequin vest, gold bowtie and pants (that matches our wall color, bonus!) and a silver tray. I named him Marky Mark because, well, why shouldn’t he be named Marky Mark? I was overjoyed.

Sure, he’s shorter than the one we saw in Nashville, and he doesn’t have the jaunty fez, but that’s actually a plus in the feng shui of the room. Besides, he’s much more beguiling.

And more than just being a conversation piece in our otherwise very traditional (read bland) decor, every time I look at the grinning two-footed-2-foot-coaster, I am reminded that I married my best friend who would literally do anything to make me happy.

And that? Is the best present I could ever get.

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Desktop lunch review: Semi-homemade

October 27th, 2011 2 Encouraging Words

This morning on Facebook I shared a Gawker link — a four minute video of batshit-crazy-booze-hound Sandra Lee, host of Food Networks’s “Semi-Homemade” show, from her recent Halloween special.

In case you are unfamiliar with Sandra Lee, go ahead and click on this link. Watch it and tell me if you don’t cringe and gasp.

That’s one scary-assed bish, no? She’s also the semi-first-lady of New York cause she’s the live-in-the-mansion love interest of Mario Cuomo. Have fun with that, New Yorkers.

So after I had my shizz-and-giggles poking fun at the wench via social media,  I realized my lunch today was indeed, semi-homemade. I toted a steam-in-the-bag of veggies harvested and cooked with love by the jolly Green Giant, and a smidge of leftover pulled pork that I made in my crock pot on Sunday.

I give no credit for this to Sandra Lee, by the way. As most working people do every single day, I can mix my ready-made foods and homemade foods successfully without her advice and her ugly-assed “tablescapes.” BTW: that’s not a real word!

But back to my lunch, which was easy and awesome. The veggies are redskin potatoes, red pepper and sugar snap peas — three of my go-to home ingredients. The potatoes are a bit mushy from swimming in this faux-herb-butter sauce that the Green Giant added, but otherwise the veggie medley was tasty. And the whole box is only 100 calories.

The pulled pork was awesome, but will likely never be repeated. We had three open bottles of various barbecue sauces in the ‘fridge and a pork loin. Put it all together with a half of an onion in a crock pot for four hours and viola, awesome pulled pork in a wonderful hybrid sauce of unknown proportions of Sweet Baby Ray’s and a couple of others brands. Calorie and fat content are a wild card here, but the meat was lean and none of the sauces were over-the-top on fat (calories maybe cause that’s a lot of sugar; but I don’t consume all the sauce.)

Overall, I like my semi-homemade lunch. Very satisfying, and no booze was wasted and no stupid costumes were worn.

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Desktop lunch review: Pao! Wham! Eh.

October 25th, 2011 2 Encouraging Words

Today’s frozen, mass-produced food morsel comes to us from the good people at Healthy Choice, Kung Pao chicken in a steamer tray.

I think producers of mass-marketed frozen diet entrees really love Asian-inspired foods. And what’s not to love? Rice,  veggies, white meat chicken and a bit of spicy sauce and WHAM! You have an appealing-yet-calorie-friendly lunch.

And in the middle of the workday, who doesn’t need a BAM! of flavor to POWer! you through the rest of the day?

And this dish did deliver a little of the promised PAO! via the sauce, which is the only attribute that kept it from being mostly BLAH!

There wasn’t much sauce, but what was there coated the rice and packed a PUNCH! The rice was a little toothsome, and the chicken was bland.  The veggies were OK, even if the water-chestnuts-broccoli-peppers color combo (white, green and red) made me think of Christmas and  which led to an “OMG that’s exactly two months from now!” moment of panic because even though I love the holidays they are stressful especially if you are on a D*I*E*T.

So yeah, once I recovered myself and finished my lunch, it was OK. Not memorable. Not special. Just OK.

For 290 calories, 17 grams of protein and only 6 grams of fat it’s a nice fit for the nutritionally conscious lunch bag. The 560 mg. of salt sure tasted like much more, as I was gasping for WATER! the whole time I was eating it.

 

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Migraines suck

October 21st, 2011 6 Encouraging Words

Sometimes I think migraines are like zombie garden gnomes that eat my brain from inside my skull.

That may not make any sense, since I am still in a migraine fog. Fairly sure it was anxiety induced, but I am not ruling out poor diet and lack of sleep this week as assisting the brain-chomping, undead elf  in my brain that nearly paralyzes the left side of my face.

Stayed home today but still worked all morning until I couldn’t take it anymore. Slept all afternoon. My eyes feel fuzzy and my hearing is still a little tinny, but I feel much better after the world’s best husband made me a delicious dinner of grilled chicken and steamed edamame.

There is nothing sexier than a man who takes care of you when you are not feeling well and seems to know exactly what to do to make it better.

And in case there really is a zombie apocalypse, I know he has my back.

I never take for granted how damn lucky I am.

 

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When I’m bad, I’m to-the-walls bad

October 20th, 2011 3 Encouraging Words

Yesterday was stressful.

Hard day at work, husband out of town, dogs bouncing off the ceiling, cat being a dick.

You know, the typical stuff.

While I have been almost boastful of my resistance to eating my emotions lately, I folded like a seven-two-offsuit hand of Texas Hold ‘Em last night.

I totally grabbed a spoon and went face first into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Boston Cream Pie ice cream.

One bazillion calories later, I was still stressed. But damn. That was some very good ice cream.

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Desktop lunch review: Salad. Yeah. Just a salad.

October 18th, 2011 1 Encouragement

Really, I am not a vegetarian, all evidence to the contrary since this is my second meatless lunch this week.

Just trying to work in as many veggies as possible, that’s all. Still a devoted omnivore. I had a tasty morsel of dead pig in the form Canadian bacon this morning. (Many thanks to Canada for making circular ham and calling it bacon, which just makes it feel more fun.)

 

I brought this nice little salad with me from home. No processed food for me, no sir. Uh, you don’t see that bottle of spray salad dressing. (Note to self : Stage photos more carefully.)

Actually, I love the spray salad dressing (this one is Balsamic Breeze from Wish Bone and it’s wonderful)  because I do not like a lot of dressing on my salad and spritzing seems fun. It’s only one calorie per spritz and not overly sweet despite the HFCS in it.

I like my salads like I like my men: Chunky, bright, full of surprises and a little on the nutty side. Here we have a bevy of lettuce leaves with carrot shreds, thick cucumber slices, grape tomatoes, and unsalted almonds.

The key to not getting burned the hell out on salads when dieting is to mix up the ingredients. I like to add fruit — fresh and dried — small amounts of cheese, meats and as wide of a color palette of veggies as I can find. Also, don’t have one every single day or every time dining out. Salad burnout is the surest way to motivate me to run for a cheeseburger.

I share these lunches here on the blog so I can track what I am eating. Tell me what’s in your lunch bag? How do you avoid salad snooze?

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Desktop lunch review: A veggie tale

October 17th, 2011 4 Encouraging Words

Another work day where noon arrived and I hadn’t consumed a bite of food yet. Either I am a dumb ass or I’m over-worked. Smart money places a bet on both.

In light of the fact that I neglected to bring the lunch I packed (dumb ass pulls ahead in the odds) and that today may be one of the last summer-like days we have here for a while, I decided to walk four blocks to our newly refurbished City Market in search of food.

I found a little cafe that touts fresh, local ingredients.  Sold.

I decided to make this just another meatless Monday and ordered a grilled veggie pita with a side of black bean/corn salad.  The veggies included zucchini, mushrooms, onions and a variety of lettuce leaves, with some mozzarella cheese (hardly any, really) and garnished with a mild remuolade.

The sandwich was very tasty –veggies were still crisp but nicely grilled — however in the four blocks I had to walk back to my desk the pita got a wee bit soggy.

Note to self: EAT SOMEWHERE BESIDES YOUR DESK ONCE IN A WHILE!

The black beans should provide enough protein to power me through water aerobics tonight, and the red onion in the dish should ensure no one wants to get close to me for the rest of the afternoon. Win/win.

Second note to self: Make this at home! Nom!

 

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The space between

October 16th, 2011 3 Encouraging Words

Here I am, stuck in the middle.

Really, Macy's? Giant apples on each ass cheek? Would these fruity pockets make my ass look big? Yes they would.

After sifting through the cornucopia of ugly in the plus size departments (example provided at left) and trying on dozens of pairs of pants (not an exaggeration) in various sizes and styles at multiple stores yesterday, I know I am smack dab between two sizes.

Logic would dictate that I should buy the smallest size that can accommodate my plumpy rump. Buying a size that is already loose-fitting is a waste of money.

But I really hate tight clothes. While baggy is unattractive, nothing looks worse than pants that fit like leggings. Speaking of which, after spending a day at the mall, I should mention again, ladies, that leggings are NOT PANTS!

NOT PANTS!

Any old hoo, after wiggling in and out of pants and jeans in dressing rooms in three stores, I did find one pair of jeans and one pair of pants that fit like Baby Bear’s porridge — not too tight, not too loose, just right. With the two pairs I have now that fit, that should fill out my work-weeks until Christmas or at least until I drop another 10 pounds.

Weekends are for yoga pants. So say we all.

**FYI — That photo of the apple jeans? Taken while the jeans were still on the hanger. Those jeans make a HANGER LOOK BIG!

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