Listening to: Steely Dan - Razor Boy
Steve and I have thought about an option for a couple years, vacation-wise, but never acted upon it, and after a chat yesterday, I think we have figured it out for sure...
Oregon. In the summer, specifically.
It is absolutely gorgeous. Mountains for hiking, trails for biking, abundant places for canoeing (Steve doesn't do white-water rafting, unfortunately) and lots of berries to be picked and consumed. The weather is pitch-perfect in the summer, and there are plenty of pretty trees to protect the pasty-couple's glow in the dark skin from the sun. It's also not horrifically expensive, so we could in theory go for something like 5 days and not be completely skint when we leave.
Planning will be a work in progress. But I think the location is settled upon.
On to the weight-loss front:
I chatted with Dr. Shrink today to figure out something about my weight (he monitors it when I come in for visits), and we pinpointed the exact moment where I gained something like 8-9 lbs: when I got off Welbutrin, last June. AHA! I knew it couldn't just be me! Granted, some of it probably IS me, but at least it's not entirely my fault.
To combat the late-night eating, I have purchased a favorite snack of mine - sugar free popsicles. 15 damn calories, and very little else. They're sweet, which I like, and contain nothing that will make me fat overnight. No more bedtime hamburgers for me!
My dad and I have stumbled across an exercise option that seems perfect for my interests, as well as the location where I live: ROWING. I am a fiend on the rowing machine (one of which is neither in my apartment's gym, Temple's gym, or the Philadelphia Sports Club - WTF?), and I need my body back in the shape it used to be, what with the cut arms and presence of a hard stomach. I can take lessons over at a boat club on the Schuykill, for which my dad has awesomely agreed to pay, because he knows I will enjoy it - so off to the phone I go to schedule a lesson.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Feel the burn
Listening to: Michael Jackson - Remember the Time
Nothing like some upbeat MJ to get your blood pumping as you fiddle around with the stupid elliptical to make sure your heart rate doesn't go above 163. The good news is, I think I've finally got my heart rate under control as far as exercising is concerned, so that's one less thing to worry about. There is still the matter of my gut. I do not know how to make it leave, but I'll be damned if I have to elliptical every single day. My body recoils at fitness, I have discovered.
At least when all this rain/shitty weather is over, I can go walking to Rittenhouse Square and back without wondering if my knee is finally going to pop out of its socket. Damn you, elliptical.
I think my problem might be compulsive eating. At night, specifically. I cannot train my body to not be hungry, and last night I caved in horribly. I made a hamburger at midnight. It was ungarnished and George-Foremanized, so it shouldn't be AWFUL for me, but I know it's definitely not good for me by any means.
::sigh::
So, Steve gave me wonderful news about a couple upcoming bonus checks (congratulations, honey!) and thus launched the first ACTUAL REALISTIC discussion about potential vacations. He is not paying for me (and should not pay for me), so I need to dig into my coffers a bit to make this work - and damn if I can't shake Hawaii from my mind. It's the happiest place on earth! Pineapple! Snorkeling! Mahi Mahi! Volcanoes! Hiking! SEXY! And, oh, EXPENSIVE!
That said, I shall need to devise some kind of more affordable substitute. Anyone have anything nice to tell me about the Bahamas or Virgin Islands? Ideally, I want a place suitable for activities which aren't lying on the beach, because that's simply not my schtick. Or Steve's. We're not sunlovers. We're just... into enjoyment of the outdoors, but without the death-hikes.
Nothing like some upbeat MJ to get your blood pumping as you fiddle around with the stupid elliptical to make sure your heart rate doesn't go above 163. The good news is, I think I've finally got my heart rate under control as far as exercising is concerned, so that's one less thing to worry about. There is still the matter of my gut. I do not know how to make it leave, but I'll be damned if I have to elliptical every single day. My body recoils at fitness, I have discovered.
At least when all this rain/shitty weather is over, I can go walking to Rittenhouse Square and back without wondering if my knee is finally going to pop out of its socket. Damn you, elliptical.
I think my problem might be compulsive eating. At night, specifically. I cannot train my body to not be hungry, and last night I caved in horribly. I made a hamburger at midnight. It was ungarnished and George-Foremanized, so it shouldn't be AWFUL for me, but I know it's definitely not good for me by any means.
::sigh::
So, Steve gave me wonderful news about a couple upcoming bonus checks (congratulations, honey!) and thus launched the first ACTUAL REALISTIC discussion about potential vacations. He is not paying for me (and should not pay for me), so I need to dig into my coffers a bit to make this work - and damn if I can't shake Hawaii from my mind. It's the happiest place on earth! Pineapple! Snorkeling! Mahi Mahi! Volcanoes! Hiking! SEXY! And, oh, EXPENSIVE!
That said, I shall need to devise some kind of more affordable substitute. Anyone have anything nice to tell me about the Bahamas or Virgin Islands? Ideally, I want a place suitable for activities which aren't lying on the beach, because that's simply not my schtick. Or Steve's. We're not sunlovers. We're just... into enjoyment of the outdoors, but without the death-hikes.
Monday, April 28, 2008
WTF, Old Navy?
Listening to: Hall and Oates - Say it Isn't So
Bleh. Why would anyone want to go out into the rain when they have no real reason to do so? I certainly don't.Today, my job consists of breaking in a slightly-too-small Old Navy polo, with hopes that it will never, ever shrink like so many of their other crappy products. I tried on the Large, and it was essentially a collared muu-muu for someone a good 30 lbs bigger than me. The medium, which I bought, is just tight enough that if I don't really stretch it out, a little bit of gut peeks through.
Not good.
You'd think sizing would be a little more, I don't know, slightly more sensible. Instead, we have "shirts for people with no boobs" and "shirts for the full-figured," and nothing for those of us who are in between.
I should really get rid of that gut, but short of lipo, I'm not sure how to get it to leave.
Bleh. Why would anyone want to go out into the rain when they have no real reason to do so? I certainly don't.Today, my job consists of breaking in a slightly-too-small Old Navy polo, with hopes that it will never, ever shrink like so many of their other crappy products. I tried on the Large, and it was essentially a collared muu-muu for someone a good 30 lbs bigger than me. The medium, which I bought, is just tight enough that if I don't really stretch it out, a little bit of gut peeks through.
Not good.
You'd think sizing would be a little more, I don't know, slightly more sensible. Instead, we have "shirts for people with no boobs" and "shirts for the full-figured," and nothing for those of us who are in between.
I should really get rid of that gut, but short of lipo, I'm not sure how to get it to leave.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Why I <3 Mets Baseball.
Well, at least the sidebar sentiments are known, if truncated. Philly sucks. And my Metsies are starting to rebound a little, taking a series away from Atlanta. The Phils lost to the Pirates today... Thereby, the two are currently tied for second, one game back from Florida (which is really kind of sad), with the Mets having the slightly better winning percentage.
I have never really taken out a moment to discuss my undying love for our nation's pastime, as it is reflected in Flushing, Queens. Therefore, I am going to present this as if it were a personal essay, with fairly accurate informations.
I think a lot of it comes from growing up in downstate New York. People there have baseball roots that leach deep into their family's genetics, due to the city's history, and there are, as well, the obvious geographic ties to the teams. If you were from the Bronx, it was obvious that you were a Yankee fan - Westchester, too (but that's likely because both are really into spending a lot of money to get things they think they want which turn out to be disappointments). If you were from Queens or Long Island, you were a Mets fan - and there were also the disenfranchised Dodgers fans.
Therein comes my grandpa, Gerry. Gerry grew up in Brooklyn from a more American, less Jewish household, and was, of course, a Dodgers fan, albeit not rabidly so. He never liked the Yankees - the seats at their games were too expensive. He waited it out.
In 1962, the year the Mets came into existence, my father was 10 and living on Long Island's south shore. It was around then that he went to see the Mets play at the old Polo Grounds (which I think is awesome). In 1964, the Worlds' Fair came to Queens along with Shea, and my dad could more easily go to games, and thus he did, although, again, he was not rabid. But he was defiantly not-a-Yankee fan.
In 1984, I was born, and my parents were (and still are) living in Westchester county, a Yankee fan hotbed. The Yankees, alas, were suffering from '80s sickness, and some folks defected around this time, just in time for 1986, when the Mets made it to the series.
At some point, they defected back. Some time, oh, around 1996, when Steinbrenner opened his enormous wallet and took a gigantic money crap on the team. Suddenly, the Yankees were the Team To Beat - it is at precisely this moment that the Rat-Bastard Yankee Fan came into existence.
The RBYF* is not to be confused with the old school fans who have been around since the lean years, who carry the old RC Cola bags and can have friendly discussions with you without screaming "fuck the Mets" at you. Rather, the RBYF* provided just the spark the Mets needed, fan-wise. It became an attempt to prove "I will NEVER root along with a bunch of screaming, red-hat wearing shitheads who don't know crap about baseball."
Something amazing I have discovered about Mets fans is that they're incredibly knowledgeable about the sport, and most of them stuck with the Mets through some really terrible years of "baseball". A couple years ago, we got some of our own Bandwagoneers, but they quietly disappeared after the, um, incident last year.
I am proud to be among this legion of fans.
So to all you folks out there who cheer for teams that others laugh at, I salute you.
...
Unless you like the Cubbies.
I have never really taken out a moment to discuss my undying love for our nation's pastime, as it is reflected in Flushing, Queens. Therefore, I am going to present this as if it were a personal essay, with fairly accurate informations.
I think a lot of it comes from growing up in downstate New York. People there have baseball roots that leach deep into their family's genetics, due to the city's history, and there are, as well, the obvious geographic ties to the teams. If you were from the Bronx, it was obvious that you were a Yankee fan - Westchester, too (but that's likely because both are really into spending a lot of money to get things they think they want which turn out to be disappointments). If you were from Queens or Long Island, you were a Mets fan - and there were also the disenfranchised Dodgers fans.
Therein comes my grandpa, Gerry. Gerry grew up in Brooklyn from a more American, less Jewish household, and was, of course, a Dodgers fan, albeit not rabidly so. He never liked the Yankees - the seats at their games were too expensive. He waited it out.
In 1962, the year the Mets came into existence, my father was 10 and living on Long Island's south shore. It was around then that he went to see the Mets play at the old Polo Grounds (which I think is awesome). In 1964, the Worlds' Fair came to Queens along with Shea, and my dad could more easily go to games, and thus he did, although, again, he was not rabid. But he was defiantly not-a-Yankee fan.
In 1984, I was born, and my parents were (and still are) living in Westchester county, a Yankee fan hotbed. The Yankees, alas, were suffering from '80s sickness, and some folks defected around this time, just in time for 1986, when the Mets made it to the series.
At some point, they defected back. Some time, oh, around 1996, when Steinbrenner opened his enormous wallet and took a gigantic money crap on the team. Suddenly, the Yankees were the Team To Beat - it is at precisely this moment that the Rat-Bastard Yankee Fan came into existence.
The RBYF* is not to be confused with the old school fans who have been around since the lean years, who carry the old RC Cola bags and can have friendly discussions with you without screaming "fuck the Mets" at you. Rather, the RBYF* provided just the spark the Mets needed, fan-wise. It became an attempt to prove "I will NEVER root along with a bunch of screaming, red-hat wearing shitheads who don't know crap about baseball."
Something amazing I have discovered about Mets fans is that they're incredibly knowledgeable about the sport, and most of them stuck with the Mets through some really terrible years of "baseball". A couple years ago, we got some of our own Bandwagoneers, but they quietly disappeared after the, um, incident last year.
I am proud to be among this legion of fans.
So to all you folks out there who cheer for teams that others laugh at, I salute you.
...
Unless you like the Cubbies.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Well, I did it.
Listening to: Steely Dan - King of the World
Yesterday, for the first time in dog knows how long, I posted my truest, most heartfelt feelings on the subject of politics and why I find them so repulsive. It's the pain they cause in peoples' hearts, and the divisions that arbitrarily make people hate each other, no matter what the rest of that person's actions and kindnesses might dictate.
And I got some very kind feedback, words that made me feel good for having an opinion and actually STATING it, rather than being a coy devil's advocate.
I'm not a coy devil's advocate. I am a proponent of the gray-area theory, the kind that implies that nobody truly has the perfect grasp of right and wrong, and that it isn't a good idea to assume anything about someone based on their politics. Someone may be pro-life and love their family, their neighbors, their life, and the lives of others. Someone may be anti-capitalist and have a great talent, or bring beauty to the world, or do something incredible that betters the lives of others.
Any person is capable of a great and wonderful thing, and I don't think that has anything to do with how one votes. It is a matter of following one's heart.
Disagree with someone, but do not assume you know anything about them based on their party affiliation.
I'm not some pot-smoking hippie.
I'm a writer, I'm a capitalist, I'm sarcastic, I cry, I have people I love, and I have nobody that I hate.
Yesterday, for the first time in dog knows how long, I posted my truest, most heartfelt feelings on the subject of politics and why I find them so repulsive. It's the pain they cause in peoples' hearts, and the divisions that arbitrarily make people hate each other, no matter what the rest of that person's actions and kindnesses might dictate.
And I got some very kind feedback, words that made me feel good for having an opinion and actually STATING it, rather than being a coy devil's advocate.
I'm not a coy devil's advocate. I am a proponent of the gray-area theory, the kind that implies that nobody truly has the perfect grasp of right and wrong, and that it isn't a good idea to assume anything about someone based on their politics. Someone may be pro-life and love their family, their neighbors, their life, and the lives of others. Someone may be anti-capitalist and have a great talent, or bring beauty to the world, or do something incredible that betters the lives of others.
Any person is capable of a great and wonderful thing, and I don't think that has anything to do with how one votes. It is a matter of following one's heart.
Disagree with someone, but do not assume you know anything about them based on their party affiliation.
I'm not some pot-smoking hippie.
I'm a writer, I'm a capitalist, I'm sarcastic, I cry, I have people I love, and I have nobody that I hate.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Kimmah's Survey
1. Are you a righty or a lefty?
Ambi - well, right for most activities, including writing, but lefty for fencing. Turns out I'm left-footed.
2. What is your official job title - Graduate Student. Oy.
3. You can only watch one show---there are limitless episodes. What do you pick? Oooh... Either Lost or Seinfeld. I cannot live without either.
4. What color eyeshadow do you wear most often? - I own exactly one eyeshadow, which I barely ever use - it's a light silvery-blue.
5. Describe your current favorite outfit. - AE Boyfriend '77 jeans, a 3/4 sleeve Old Navy henley layered over a solid tank, and my flamingo Vans.
6. What color is your kitchen? - White, like every room in my apartment.
7. Who was your first kiss and what was the situation? - My first boyfriend, in 9th grade. We had been "dating" for a couple weeks and he finally just planted one on me.
8. Who is the smartest person you know online? - Not going to answer this one. I'm a diplomat.
9. Why do you not have a myspace if you don't have one? When are you going to get one? If you DO have one--how long have you had it? - my friends told me I should. I never use it.
10. Who is the most annoying famous person? Eff... Paula Abdul? Ryan Seacrest? I hate those two both with a burning passion.
Ambi - well, right for most activities, including writing, but lefty for fencing. Turns out I'm left-footed.
2. What is your official job title - Graduate Student. Oy.
3. You can only watch one show---there are limitless episodes. What do you pick? Oooh... Either Lost or Seinfeld. I cannot live without either.
4. What color eyeshadow do you wear most often? - I own exactly one eyeshadow, which I barely ever use - it's a light silvery-blue.
5. Describe your current favorite outfit. - AE Boyfriend '77 jeans, a 3/4 sleeve Old Navy henley layered over a solid tank, and my flamingo Vans.
6. What color is your kitchen? - White, like every room in my apartment.
7. Who was your first kiss and what was the situation? - My first boyfriend, in 9th grade. We had been "dating" for a couple weeks and he finally just planted one on me.
8. Who is the smartest person you know online? - Not going to answer this one. I'm a diplomat.
9. Why do you not have a myspace if you don't have one? When are you going to get one? If you DO have one--how long have you had it? - my friends told me I should. I never use it.
10. Who is the most annoying famous person? Eff... Paula Abdul? Ryan Seacrest? I hate those two both with a burning passion.
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