Why is diet and exercise such hard work?

At the beginning of each year, I tip the scales at 175. That's normal for me since I love summer so much that over the winter I get depressed. I hate winter sports and loathe having to dress in layers even just to get the mail. I usually start with the comfort foods right after Thanksgiving dinner in October and the sloth/feeding frenzy doesn't end until Victoria Day. For me, winter is all about my Snuggie and my Nacho Cheese Doritos.

Then comes the thaw and I start thinking about dragonboating again. I look for all the shorts and tanks that I wore the season before and they never fit. I cry and cry, forgetting that I lose that weight every year. Sure enough every July, I fit in those summer clothes again but that can't be healthy either mentally or physically especially at my advanced age.

So this year I've vowed to try to stay fit over the winter. I have all these lofty ideas to keep exercising before work, even in the dreaded, hated winter. I'm a fair weather runner so that's out, and I won't ski (all those clothes and sticks attached to my feet? Not bloody likely) but I can just walk fast for an hour, layers and all, right? I mean marching around in shin high snow has got to get your heart going. Then all I have to do is get my eating under control. That'll be a hard one. I just started this new thing where I eat a little every 2 hours. I never thought I'd feel this way but yesterday I actually thought to myself:  "Ugh. 2pm? I have to eat again? But I'm not even hungry." and choked down 2 pieces of la vache qui rit. This one may work. I feel like I never stop eating. I actually have to set an alarm to remind me.

So I'm blogging this to keep me honest. I want to stay at this svelte (for me) 160. I like it, I feel healthy and my "skinny" clothes fit. There's nothing sadder than getting my size 14 "winter jeans" out of storage just in time for Christmas. So wish me luck, folks.

kxx (the first photo was taken in March, the second was taken about 15 minutes ago)

Blogging the truth v. blogging my life

I've been keeping an online blog for 4 years and judging from most of my posts, you'd think that nothing shitty has happened to me in that all time. Truth is, of course it has but I choose not to burden you all with it. Does it mean that my blog is a lie? No. Yes. Well, kinda. It's a lie by omission.

Do you really need to know about the discussion Scott and I had about the fact that our family budget doesn't allow for $1000 shoes? Why do you need to know about the time I completely freaked out on the kids and called them "fuckheads" loud enough for the neighbours to hear? I'm all right if you think my life is perfect. Like one hilarious episode after another of Cosby Show with a little Married With Children sprinkled in. But keep in mind what you read isn't completely true. Allow for my creative license in some situations so while the names haven't quite been changed, a lot of the situations have been to bring the funny. And the actual moments are safely kept in my memory where they can't get me into trouble. But consider yourselves lucky. You guys get all the knee slapping-ness, you lucky dogs.

kxx

Flashback Friday!

So here's a blog from December 2009 where I attempt to explain the Civil War to Henry. Thank Goodness I have that Masters Degree in American History from Harvard University.*

Gone With The Wind

*I do NOT have a Masters Degree in American History from Harvard University.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

If a 43 year old woman calling her father "Daddy" is wrong, then I don't want to be right.

My daddy turns over 70 today... I never remember the exact year but I think it's something like 1934 or '38. He's a great guy with a wicked sense of humour. At the same time he sometimes doesn't recognize sarcasm so we also spend a lot of time laughing at with him.

He came to Canada after proposing to my mother via Canada Post. When he arrived in Montreal in 1967 on a visitor's visa a few weeks later, he was given 6 weeks by the government to get married or get out of the country. They got hitched with just a few days to spare. I wondered for years why on earth they got married in November in Canada. They told me they literally didn't have a choice.

He still has a very thick West Indian accent and outdated West Indian ideas even after being here over 40 years. It makes for some great blog fodder. A couple of cases in point:

Fun Weekend with Mr. A
Daddy vs. OnStar

For the longest while he was the only one I knew named Errol besides my brother and Errol Flynn the actor. I've since met two others. Nice guys. Looking back, I kind of wish I'd named Elliott "Errol" but what's done is done.

He beat cancer too, you know. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer a year ago. They found it early and after 6 weeks of treatment, he's as right as rain and back to his crochety old self, driving everyone crazy. Just the way we like it.

So here's to my daddy. He's opinionated and not too worldly for his age but he makes up for it by being a sweetheart and knowing how to make the most potent rum punch you've ever tasted. Its secret? No juice except for the liquid in a jar of maraschino cherries. The stuff he makes will make you go blind. We spend a lot of New Years' Eves stumbling around in the dark. Some call it dancing, Dominicans call it "wining". We all call it a party. Happy Birthday Daddy!

kxx

More questions answered.

Thanks to Linda at 2nd cup of coffee for these questions...


1. What is your favourite Mexican dish?
I'm okay with Chimichangas but I'm not crazy about Mexican food in general. I'm never a fan of restaurant food that tastes like I could make it at home. But do margaritas count as a dish? 'Cuz, I'm all over that...

2. When you were a kid, did you get started on your homework right away after school, or did you procrastinate?
I was a procrastinator par excellence. I'd been known to do my homework on the bus on the way to school. Of course I try to teach my children to get it out of the way. Do as I say, not as I do (or did).

3. What is your favourite store for home furnishings?
God help me I've never fallen out of love with Ikea.

4. When you were young, did you like school lunches?
We never had school lunches until CEGEP and the food there was sublime. I still wish I could eat there again. In elementary school my mum would assault me with mock chicken sandwiches and Del Monte fruit cups. I still have nightmares of bread imprinted with metal can rings. UGH.

5. Is religion a crutch?
It's not a crutch if it genuinely helps you through difficult times in your life. I'm often jealous of people who have that kind of faith. I ask too many dumb questions for religion to comfort me properly. But I do consider myself to be spiritual.

6. In your region, what is the "big" (most popular in the community) high school sport?
Is there any other sport in Canada but Hockey? See how I capitalized it there?

7. Do you consider yourself rich?
LOL! Are you high? But I'll tow the party line here and say I'm rich in family and love *puke*

8. Which of these would you have the best chance for success in administering:
A) CPR
B) Heimlich Maneuver
C) Changing a flat tire

CPR but please God, don't test me on that...

9. Which dance would you prefer to learn & why:
A) Salsa
B) Hip Hop
C) Waltz
D) Swing
Being Black I feel like I should know how to dance HipHop and it's practical since my partner wouldn't have to heave my carcass up over his shoulder at any point in the dance.

10. What's the worst news you've ever delivered to someone?
One Friday last year, Scott gleefully told me he finally took that leave of absence from his job we'd been talking about for years. He wanted to enjoy a few months of doing whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, that day was the same I got laid off from my job. The hardest thing ever was telling him and seeing his face crumple as he realized he'd have to go back to work on Monday. I'll never forgive myself for that.

11. Name something you learned in college that had nothing to do with classes or academics.
I learned how a newspaper gets put out and how a radio station works. I also learnt how to shotgun a beer. Very valuable information.

12. New variation on an old question: If there's a song in your head that just won't get out, what is your favourite (or most repeated) line in that song?
I hear this song once and the whole thing is stuck in my head for hours. For that reason alone, I hate it with a fire that burns.

Aaargh... aaaand there it is. Thanks a lot.

kxx

If being musical encompasses the ability to listen to songs,

then I am musical. In fact, I could be a prodigy.

But if being musical only means being able to sing or play an instrument, then I am not musical. At all. Don't get me wrong, I can carry a tune and by that I mean if I hum or sing a couple of bars of something you can recognise the song. But that doesn't mean I'm going to obliviously and tone deafly sign up for the merciless mocking that is Canadian Idol.

I can play a bit of piano, though. And by that I mean I use a bit of my hand (as in one finger) to play both Twinkle Twinkle AND Mary Had a Little Lamb. I know, right?

If I could really play piano, I'd love to be able to play this. So gorgeous. To my untrained ear it sounds easy enough for me to play with my misshapen hoofs but deep down I know it's probably extremely difficult. It's a smidge more challenging than Chopsticks.

But my favourite instrument by far, is the cello. I love how it sounds like it needs a hug. I'd love to learn how to play it and I know exactly when my love for this instrument started. Lori Singer (Julie) from Fame. I know this little dream is completely impossible. You'd need years of training and super nimble fingers. At this point in my life arthritis doesn't seem too far off so playing the cello is totally out of the question. Nevertheless, I can still listen and from time to time give my mp3 a big fat squeeze.

kxx

It's the little things

I hate when people use my bath towel to dry their hands.
If I find even the tiniest damp spot when I go to use it, I'll take a new one.

I hate finding the cover of the toothbrush open.
We have one of those Oral-B electric toothbrushes with the shared heads. Scott sometimes doesn't close the top and it skeeves me out thinking that when you flush the toilet, piss-mist flies up and coats the brushes. YUCK.

I hate getting stuff stuck to my bare feet. Or sock feet. Or shoes.
Looks like I generally hate getting stuff stuck to my feet in general. This even goes for beach sand.

I hate waiting at the checkout.
I will walk miles all over a department store trying to find the shortest line. I will leave a line the second they pick up the phone for a price check. I've been known to buy milk, bread and clothes at the jewellry counter.

I hate forgetting people's names.
But that doesn't stop me from doing it. Well and often.

I hate when my email box is so full that the inbox is on more than one page.
It's just another thing that bugs me. Plus it formats weird on my iPod.

I hate when the Oreo filling is too hard or soft so the cookie doesn't come apart easily.
I will actually put the rest of the cookies I planned to eat back. You know what it's like when you look forward to something and it doesn't work out the way you planned.

I hate when the kids eat "my" stuff. 
Yes, I hide food from them. They tend to unhinge their jaws and just drop food in without it even hitting the sides. Most foods are bought on Saturday and gone by Tuesday. So why on earth would they be allowed to "eat" my delicious, expensive treats?

My grumps will be over in a couple more days, promise. It's just that "female issue" rearing it's head. Again.

kxx