My Life as an East Bay Refugee

This morning I woke up early to go to the dentist. This is important to my story because they numbed my mouth and I spent all morning with a sort of droopy lip that made me feel particularly unattractive. Also my mouth hurt and I was tired because I woke up at 6:45 to make it to my 8:00 appointment. Ok, here's the story:

After my appointment, I get on the BART train as usual. Everything seems fine. I drift off to sleep in my little corner of the train. And then the conductor (operator?) starts talking about delays. That isn't unusual for BART so I stay asleep. But then he starts talking about a fire on the tracks and I figure I should maybe be more aware than I usually am.

"This train is being told to turn around," the operator says. "Please exit the train at the next station and take the next train to San Francisco. There will be a train waiting for you on the other side of the station." Obediently the passengers exit the train and we walk across to the waiting train. But when we get on, we are met with a screeching voice "FREEMONT TRAIN! THIS IS NOT THE SAN FRANCISCO TRAIN." Meekly we file out of the train we just entered and back on to the windy platform. I recognize some faces on the platform. Fellow North Concord station people who have been riding with me all the way. We smile weakly as the time ticks by.

Finally a real San Francisco bound train arrives and we gratefull huddle on, grasping our laptop bags and work materials. This new train has one less car than the one we left and there are already people sitting on it, so we scramble for seats. The train moves slowly and the operator again speaks of delays. I settle down and try to sleep again.

"This train is being told to turn around," the operator says. "Please exit at the next station and wait for the next train." Instead of groans and grumbles and infectious giggle begins. No one can believe that this can be happening. I catch the eyes of my fellow North Concordians. We know the drill. We've been on the train for more than an hour now. We shuffle off onto another blustery platform, this one more crowded than the last. We clutch our belongings to us, afraid to lose something in the shuffle. A train arrives, this one shorter than the last and already packed with people. It's like musical chairs for tired angry adults. We push in as many people as we can, but some are left behind in West Oakland. We watch them on the platform as we depart, glad that we made it this time.

"This train is being told to turn around," the operator says. "Please exit at the next station. If you are going farther than the next station..." And in the long silence that follows that statement a man on the train says "You're on your own." In fact we are instructed to once again wait for the next train. I am just two stations from my stop, but the train will go no farther. We flood out on to the platform, tired, ragged, giddy with exhaustion. I catch the eye of a woman who has been with me since North Concord and say "Maybe I should just walk to work." But I don't. I wait and get on to my last train of the day. My fellow refugees and I are tired. We were forced off of our home train, given the leftover seats of other BART lines, left to stand in an overcrowded car. We had been traveling for 2 hours and 20 minutes.

It turns out someone set fire to a controller box or something, thus destroying all chances of me getting to work on time. Now see here you BART destroyer, you. You ruined my morning. So I hope you feel great guilt for what you've done. I hope you too feel my pain. I hope you think twice before you set fire to BART property again!

I'm glad to be home. I'm glad to be in bed and listening to my cat snore. I'm glad I have a day off tomorrow.

Goodnight all. That post was too long. Sorry about that.

One step forward, two steps back

Well I gained .9 pounds this week, I have no money (my bank tells me my net worth is in the negatives) and I have a pile of dirty laundry that is so big it can no longer be contained by my closet doors.

And my grandmother is in town.

Have any of you tried to lose weight when your German grandmother is in town? She doesn't understand what it means to not use butter. She has no intention of letting you eat light. She's making lasagna right now.

I have to admit I'm feeling sort of down. I wanted to use this blog to track my little successes but today I have to confess that I went out to eat last night, charged it on my credit card and ate without restraint. I guess I just can't muster up any self control at all. What do you do when you are fat and broke and your commute is so long it makes you want to die?

Honestly, I'm just really hoping my boyfriend makes it big as an actor.

But this Wednesday is Ceasar Chavez day and I get the day off! And next week I am off to the soothing sands of Sea Ranch. So there is light coming.

As a side note: I may not have internet up in Sea Ranch so I'll do lots of updating this week so you won't feel deprived next week when I may or may not post.

I'm off to battle that lasagna. It's so going to kick my butt.

Wait, that was an alarm?

I think this conversation sort of sums up my day:

Me: Brady, I woke up late today. I didn't get up until 8:30. I couldn't take a shower and now I feel dirty.

Brady: Wow.

Me: I have to catch a train at 8:53.

Brady: Did you make it?

Me: Barely. I think something is wrong with my alarm. It stopped going off this morning. Which is why I woke up at 8:30 instead of 7:15.

Brady: Really?

Me: Yeah, I mean after I hit snooze 4 times, it just stopped going off.

Brady: Wow that's awful...wait, you hit snooze 4 times?

The moral of this story? There could be many. One of them could be that I should get my lazy butt out of bed and stop hitting snooze. Another moral might be that when asking for sympathy, I should leave out a few details to make my plight more pathetic.

But the real moral, the one I'm taking from the encounter: Alarm clocks should go off forever, no matter how many times you hit snooze. My alarm clock has failed me.

(The alarm clock in question. Maybe it just boycotted because it's so dusty...)

Brady advised that I test out my alarm clock some time when I wasn't trying to wake up, but I'm kind of sleepy and that would take lots of time (because I would have to snooze it 4 times). Instead I am going to just take my chances. But I will be showering tomorrow, even if I wake up late. Everyone in the office is on vacation anyway. Except me.

Until tomorrow gentle readers. Until tomorrow.

P.S. If you were wondering what that fuzzy thing is in the upper left hand corner of the photo, that's a stuffed hedgehog. A giant one. What, you don't have one of these in your room? Maybe you should.

Toothpaste and beer

I lost 1.5 pounds this week. This means that I have defied all the laws of nature. I ate terribly, did not follow the food plan (not to mention not following my monthly budget) and I did no exercise. I feel great about this and I hope I can keep up the "do nothing and lose weight" plan. I have already been putting that plan to the test by eating Nation's grilled cheese last night and a nice hearty plate of german food and beer this evening.

However, since I am not betting on that as a successful diet plan I'm going to try and be better this week...from now on...

So, I'm pretty tired. I forgot to brush my teeth this morning (ewwwww grooooosss!) and didn't realize it until I was already at the BART station. At that point all I could do was dig out some old looking gum and chew vigorously. I finally brushed my teeth like an hour ago and they were so happy! I didn't know teeth could feel happy, but they can.

Then I went to wash my face and was just about to start soaping up when I realized I had uncapped the toothpaste and was trying to squeeze it into my hand. So my day sort of came full circle I guess. It began with too little toothpaste and ended with too much.

Technical Difficulties

So, due to some technical difficulties I will not be posting pictures of my ballgown tonight. And by technical difficulties I mean that I do not look skinny enough in it today to post my chubby tummy all over the internet. And I also can't find a picture of a skinny model type wearing it online. So later this week, I'll come up with something.

And thanks for all the comments! I love comments, they make me happy. And I got lots of comments about ballgowns, so yay!

I had a very sedentary weekend again, but that's really just the kind of weekend I like. I went and saw the annual musical at my old high school which was very fun. This year they put on a production of Titanic: the Musical and it was very good, but everyone drowned. Again. They always drown. Still it's nice to know that my old trusty high school choir department is still putting on spectacular big budget shows. The set actually tilted to make it look like a sinking ship...awesome.

And today Brady and I gave each other pedicures...without the polish part. So we gave each other foot massages? It was nice, I liked it. Although I won't lie, I do love me a pedicure at a fancy spa where they have the nice music playing and the scented water and hot towels. Brady and I sang unique renditions of Enya songs and ended up spilling water everywhere, so it was ever so slightly less soothing than Lavande. Although, we really should take our Enya impersonations on the road. If only we knew any of the words....

Oh la la, oh la la let the orinocco flow...lala sail lalalaaaa lala crash upon your shore...hey... hey!

Our best was Rains in Africa which went something like "Ahhhhahhhhahhahaaaaaaa la la ooh ey ohhhhh."

Mmm, the soothing sounds of Enya.

I'm not ready for it to be Monday yet! More weekend!!

That's all for me.

Women's Undergarments and food addiction...my life in Chick Lit

Well, summer must be on it's way because I am officially too hot right now. And like two days ago I was freezing my butt off. What is happening to the weather? What will the weather be tomorrow? I just don't know. I'll have to check weather.com in a bit.

I can't really think of much to say tonight. I really should write earlier so I am not so sleepy when it comes time to write. By the time I sit down to type up my post I have forgotten all the very witty things I was going to say and am thinking only of how nice it will be when I close my eyes and sleep. And yet, I still end up going to bed too late every night. You would think I would learn.

I did in fact buy a ballgown the other day. It's beautiful and I feel stunning in it. And I will need to either lose a lot of weight and get very firm between now and May 15 OR I need to buy a great pair of Spanx. I think we all know which option it's going to be.

The dress was not as cheap as I might have hoped. But it was totally within my monthly budget. The shirt and necklace I bought on that same shopping spree were not in my budget. Nor were the books that I just had to buy while I was out. And of course I came home yesterday to $300 worth of car expenses. Ah yes, destitute again. At least I have a home. And a credit card. Which I am not using because I have to pay it down. But you know, just in case an emergency comes up. (Would this be a bad time to mention that I consider wanting to go out to dinner an emergency? Seriously, this is why I am chubby and broke. Seriously.)

Sometimes I look at my life and I realize that despite all my efforts to be a grown up mature person, I am actually just a weird conglomerate of every chick lit character I have ever read. I'm like Bridget Jones meets Becky Bloomwood meets Jemima J. I'm awkward, addicted to spending money and addicted to food. YES!

I just wish my boyfriend were a combination of all the very rich men that those women meet. It's such a me thing to miss the "attractive to rich single men" part of the equation.

In all seriousness though, my boyfriend is like all those fantastic romantic men in the books, only he makes fun of me more and does not live in a posh London house. Which, while a major downfall, can be overlooked since he makes me laugh.

And now, I will cease my rambles and bid you all goodnight.

It's too late to be up...or is it?

Happy Monday! I know that technically it's Tuesday, but only if we adhere to that Daylight Savings Time thing. Which I don't.

Ok, I do, but only because my boss, who is very understanding and sweet would be less understanding and sweet if I was an hour late to work every day. Especially since I would insist on adhering to Daylight Savings Time at the end of the day when it was time to go home. Which would mean I was working too few hours.

Why do I keep capitalizing Daylight Savings Time? Do I perhaps both love and hate it? Does it hold strange power over me even as I fight its terrible time stealing effects? Is it's power so complete that it becomes a formal noun?

And more importantly, are we even in Daylight Savings Time? Or is Daylight Savings Time enacted when we fall back? When is the daylight being saved? Why can't I have my hour back?

The only plus side to Daylight Savings Time is coming home while it is still light out. I may have previously mentioned (like 8 times) that awful long commute thing that forced me to come home in the dark so that I felt like I had lost my whole evening on a BART train. Today I came home to full sunlight. It made me feel like I had left work early. It made me want to do things with my night. Like go to Barnes and Noble and spend lots of money I don't have! Yay!

Oh Daylight Savings Time....leading me down an evil path of blatant consumerism...you crafty dictator.

Anyway, since it's Monday, the official weigh in says....that I am down 1.3 pounds. Success! Will be mine! At Last!

I just read a blog post that said readers have short attention spans and they like pictures. The blog also suggested posting pictures of my ass to encourage new readership. I don't want to do that, especially since this is a blog that partially focuses on my weight loss efforts (and failures) so my bottom would be... unappealing. I will however end this post now to appease your short attention spans (although if you read my blog, it can't be that short) and leave you with this picture. I expect you to recruit new followers now since I am pandering to the whims of the masses.

No, I'm just kidding. I'm not like Daylight Savings Time. I would never try to force your compliance. Or make you recruit. Or steal your precious hour of sleep.

This picture does not show my bottom in any way shape or form. It does show you how I am awkward. And illustrates how I feel after eating too much at Disneyland. And yes, I'm stuck in that giant letter. And no, my feet are not touching the ground. And yes, Brady did have to help me out. And yes, that's how Brady and I spent our anniversary. I know, you wish you were me.

When life throws you ballgowns

So, it's 10:00 am on a Saturday morning and I feel wide awake. I'm afraid this means that my body is now used to waking up early because suddenly 9:30 am feels obscenely late. When I woke up I thought, oh man, I must have slept until like 12:00. And in the past 12:00 was the obscenely late cutoff.

But here I am wide awake on a Saturday. Brady is fast asleep in bed and I have his fancy gaming computer all to myself. It's nice. I have the whole day ahead of me. Heck it's 10:00 am and I'm already blogging. What else might this day bring?

But to tell you the truth, probably not much. I have run out of money and I don't get paid until Monday. So...I don't see much happening besides sitting at home sort of comatose watching TV. Maybe craigslisting some apartments on Solano Ave so I can remember what I'm working towards. And while I have Brady's computer, I might play the Sims which is my obsession and the only video game I get crazy about. I wish my computer could still run the Sims 2. WHYYYY!?

Speaking of money, I need to buy a ballgown for work. And do my taxes. I made my budget and I tried to take both of these into account. It turns out that it is not possible for me to pay down as much of my credit card as I would like, and pay my taxes and buy a ballgown. Honestly, how are you supposed to budget in a ballgown? And I kind of need a haircut. And you know, it really becomes clear why you have credit card debt when you try to budget, doesn't it. Like no wonder you can't keep it all within your monthly pay. When life throws you ballgowns...make credit cards.

Anyway, I'm afraid my dream of moving out will be delayed on account of my decadent lifestyle. Sigh, what a world.

Anyway, its sad to end this post on that note, even though I don't feel sad. So I'll just say that I am off to play the sims 3 right now (which is my opinion is a sub par game compared to the sims 2, but I'm giving it another chance this morning) and my sims are going to rock. So there. And they aren't going to have any money problems!

That is all.

Few and far between

Well, my posts this week have been few and far between. Its not that I'm busy...it's just that I am exhausted.

Even now I'm having trouble thinking of anything to say because my mind is just, basically shutting down for the night.

I love my job, but this week was tough. And so was last week. I must be hitting that 4 month slump at which point the newness of the job has worn off, but you still don't really feel like you know what you are doing yet so you are trying to convince everyone you know exactly what you are doing because you aren't "new" anymore. Only by trying so hard to impress everyone, you've managed to put way too much pressure on yourself. And you would hate to ask a question that might make it look like you don't know what you are doing because that would ruin the illusion you have created. And just for a minute each day your old job sounds nice again just because you knew what you were doing. You know, that place? That's where I am.

In other news, I figured out that if I don't spend money on anything besides essentials, I can pay my credit card off in 4 months! This would be easier if I could decide what was and was not essential in my life. Is eating out essential? What about theatre?

In any case, 4 months seems like really far away, but I bet it will sneak up on me, like the months are wont to do. (That's a weird phrase...wont to do....I really like it, but where did such a phrase come from...?)

For now I'm going to go brush my teeth, because I sense that I may fall asleep quickly and without warning and I would hate to go to bed with dirty teeth.

Not so bad

After all the hype, I failed to post the results of the weigh in of DOOM. Although honestly, it wasn't a doom weigh in. I'm only up .3 pounds.

I've been really eating well so far this week! (I know, I know, it's only been two days so far, but I need to take my successes where I can get them) I feel so much better about myself when I eat well and actually think about what I am going to eat each day before I eat it. I've always sort of been a planner anyway, but there is something so satisfying about planning out meals. It's so relaxing to count up the calories and figure out how bad something is for you long before you eat it.

Brady and I went shopping and we were calculating Weight Watchers points in the grocery store and choosing bread (which was really challenging actually) and he was helping me plan all my meals for today and it was just so nice. Like, this is what grown-ups do. This is what it would be like to be in control of my life and living the life I want to lead. Happy. Contented. Well planned. Because happiness is planning your meals in the middle of Safeway with your boyfriend.

Alright maybe I was also imagining how nice it would be to live in an apartment with Brady closer to work where we planned out meals and lived a life that didn't involve all that commuting. Maybe that's also what made me happy. Also maybe I was thinking we might have a dog in that world. The world where we plan meals and live close to work.

I realize this blog has been sort of food/weight loss heavy lately. I swear, I'm trying not be weight obsessed. It's just that when you are on a diet, all you think about is food. Even when you are thinking about being good you are thinking about all the good healthy foods you will be eating. And when you are hungry you are just thinking about all the bad foods you wish you could have. And when you read your friends' food blogs you think, why, why are you tempting me with that tomato cream sauce monstrosity that I would eat right now no questions asked.

So anyway, I'll try to write about other things from now on. Things that aren't weight related. I can't promise to not talk about food, because I love food. That's what got me in trouble in the first place.

Tomorrow, I plan to make some time to work on my book again. Then real life progress can be made. I can feel like I'm successful again. I can't wait for that.

This is me, signing off.

Ballgowns? Really.

I know, I know its been days and days since I posted anything. I wish I could say I've been busy. But I can't.

I can tell you that another depressing weigh-in may be in store tomorrow. But, next week is the week that all that changes. I am going to eat well this week if it kills me. Or you know, makes me sad. Because I went to try on gowns today and I didn't like what I saw.

We are having a big event at work and I need an evening gown. It's required. I know, I know, poor me, I just have to buy an evening gown. What a terrible life I must lead. But to be honest, trying on evening gowns is awful. Especially when you have pudgy arms and sort of wide hips and a pudgy waistline. And I have to say that all the times I cheated at weight watchers didn't seem worth it when I stood in that dressing room with the bad lighting and the tight polyester dress. With my tummy poufing out. And my arms looking like flabby sausages. Not even nice sausages. Flabby ones.

Er, not to get all self depreciating. Or overly graphic.

So I went home and did a series of ab workouts as I watched the Oscars. I've decided that since I watch so much TV, I need to just combine the TV and the workouts. It's an old trick that I've heard many times from weight watchers and even The Biggest Loser, so it must be true.

I would just like to add that my boyfriend is very sweet and did not comment on how pudgy I looked in the gowns. He kindly spent a lot of time talking about how great my bust looked in each dress. He also pointed out that my butt looked awesome. That's love.

Ok, goodnight from me. The weigh-in of DOOM is tomorrow. Please don't quit reading just because I can neither lose weight nor finish my book. I have other talents! I swear!

And with that, I succumb to sleep.

I'm too old for this headband

I am far too sleepy to be posting anything. It is very likely to come out as mindless drivel (which is sort of funny to worry about. I mean worrying about it implies that usually this blog is not mindless drivel, and I think that's debatable.) And yet, I will soldier on.

Today on BART I sat next to a little girl. She was maybe 5? I am bad at guessing ages. Children make me sort of uncomfortable to tell the truth. I love talking to them, because they have such interesting thoughts. My younger cousins provide me with hours of entertainment and good conversation. But sadly, children often look at me as though I'm an idiot, not worthy of their conversation or their time. They can tell that deep down I am still 7 years old. They look at me and they know, in a way that other adults cannot know, that I am just pretending to be grown up. And I think children feel great disdain for adults that can't get their crap together.

I sort of remember feeling that way when I was little. I was like, dude, I want to be grown up so I can tell all these grown ups to pull it together. I think we don't give children enough credit for seeing everything. EVERYTHING.

In any case, today I sat next to a little girl, and we sort of stared at each other for a while, as children are wont to do. She looked like she might be one of those charming friendly children who likes that I can relate to her on her own level. You know, because I basically feel the same way now as I did when I was 7, only taller. This girl was wearing a pretty pink headband with little dark pink gems on it.

"I like your headband," I said to her.

She looked at me for a minute, and then looked upward as if she was trying to remember what headband it was. And then she rolled her eyes at me. As if to say, "Seriously lady, you are like waaay too old to like this headband. Let's face it, I'm too old to like this headband. Get it together."

Yep. I'm super cool like that. Super cool.

Excuses, not results...

I hope none of you read this blog because you love reading about really successful goal oriented people who lose lots of weight really fast. Because my Grandmother made a homemade apple pie with buttery crust and I ate a piece tonight... with ice cream. Also my mother left me home alone with no food in the house, so I had noodles with Alfredo sauce. And peas.

The peas were actually a big deal. I don't like to dirty extra pans (or any pans at all) when I cook, so the fact that I made veggies was like huge. Especially when you consider that the pasta was leftover and required no pans at all; just a plate and a microwave.

I think its totally ridiculous that I can love food as much as I do and yet have such a major aversion to cooking. I think I just have an aversion to things I am not good at. I like to go into things knowing I will most likely have success. Apparently, when I was a toddler, I didn't really toddle. I never really tried out walking. One day, I wanted something, and my mom was busy, so I got up and walked. My mom was shocked. Up to that moment, she probably thought I had some sort of learning disability because I wasn't trying to walk at all. She's never said as much, but she probably thought I was lazy.

Or perhaps I don't like to cook because I HATE doing dishes, and as I cook I just count all the plates, spoons and pots that I will have to clean later. In fact sometimes I just decide to simplify a recipe to avoid extra pans.

Maybe it's my lack of patience. As Brady has seen, I tend to eat the ingredients as we cook with them. If cheese is an ingredient, I'll just eat it all before it gets cooked. In fact a lot of times a block of cheese seems like a better dinner than whatever we are making because it requires no dishes. (If weight watchers was less touchy feely and had rules, one of them would be "Do not eat blocks of cheese." It would be on all the promotional materials.)

Or maybe I don't like to cook because my boyfriend is in culinary school and therefore there is no need for me to step up and be the chef of the family. I can go to work all day and make the money and he can stay at home in the kitchen. YES! Ideal life.

Anyway, my point is that food is awesome, and if anyone wants a job as my personal chef (and if you work for cheap) I will hire you. Or I will browbeat Brady into making me dinner.

And with that, I'm going to bed.

Like a yo-yo

So, I gained .4 pounds this week. Honestly though, all things considered that is not so bad. If I don't lose some weight this week though, I'm going to lose my street cred...or uh, my blog cred....my net cred? In any case, none of you will believe in me anymore.

So my super secret anniversary trip was a big hit! I mean, I knew it would be. Who doesn't love Disneyland? Brady and I sure do. We went out to a celebratory dinner at the Napa Rose on February 27 and as we ate dinner the guy sitting right behind us proposed to his girlfriend. It was like dinner and a show! And the couple next to us was celebrating their 7 year anniversary. Brady and I decided that we just couldn't ignore signs like that, so I no longer have a roving anniversary. Next year, its going to be February 27 again. Yay!

I have to confess, I'm going to miss that whole non-traditional moving date thing. I liked the spontaneity of it. Now that we have a real date though, I expect Brady to remember it and do special things for me.

Anyway, there was so much great food, and so many magical desserts and we had such a great time. I want every day to be a vacation. Maybe if I could just finish my novel like I am supposed to, I could make enough money to go on vacation all the time. *sigh* A girl can dream.

I leave you with this amusing anectdote: Today I worked very hard to pick out a nice looking outfit. I got out my nice black pants and a button up shirt. I even ironed. And I almost completely dried my hair, but I ran out of time so one little bit was still wet. Today when I got to work I looked in the mirror and found to my horror that I did not, in fact, look put together.

My pants were inexplicably baggy and extremely flared, giving me a saggy bell bottoms look. (My mom has the exact same pair of pants, only on her they are fitted and stylish...what happened to mine?) My shirt has a sort of paisley pattern, and is a bit baggy as well. When paired with the baggy pants it was shapeless and unflattering. That one wet bit of hair had dried into a weird geometrical shape that had nothing to do with the rest of my hair.

In conclusion, I looked sort of like I had woken up without doing my hair and left the house wearing my unusually formal 1970's pajamas. Or, I looked like a chubby 70's wannabe. In any case, maybe I should add "Acquiring a sense of fashion" to my list of goals for the year. Either that or the girls in the Marketing Department will shame me into hiding. It's bad enough when one person dresses well every day, but when a whole department dresses better than you, its depressing. Why are you so stylish Marketing girls? Why?

I want to go back to Disney, where high fashion means wearing a bejeweled mickey mouse jean jacket. I fit in there.

That's all for me.