"No, there is too much... let me sum up."

(And if you're one of those people who thinks Princess Bride quotes are played out, booooooooooooooooo.)

I've neglected this booger lately, but as Inigo Montoya said, "Buttercup marry Humperdinck in little over half an hour so all we have to do..."

JK LOL [picture of Grumpy Cat]

Plum's secret shame is that dwarfism runs in her family too
(it just doesn't give her a frowny face) (well...)

What I've been up to:
1) Studying for, then taking the PHR certification test. Good news: looks like I passed!
2) Training for the Frank Lloyd Wright 10K, which I'm running with Mike and Kate. I'm up to 51 minutes of running with little 1-minute walking breaks mixed in; I can't even believe it sometimes.
3) Fostering Miss Mandell-- she is a lovely, shy cat, and I say this with all due respect and love but: when she sits around the house, she sits around the house. You know, like Big Mama. Or Big Momma. Or your momma.

But seriously, look at her face; after you make air-kissy noises, please  submit an interest form to PAWS

4) Getting the results of my two-month participation in "bootcamp" (or functional/metabolic training) at LadyGym: my BMI is now Regular Overweight instead of Obese! So I no longer sit around the house, which is great news heading into my doctor's appointment this Friday. Overall I'm down 54.5 lbs, so I only have 14 more to go before my first goal is complete.

This is a very cat-centric post: the one outfit pic I have from the past few weeks that is not a not-a-selfie-to-avoid-Kristen's-wrath photo are the ones Catt (!) took of me in the Asos Curve cat sweater I had from Gwynnie Bee this week...

Catt's direction to me appears to have been: "Be all, like,  'What?  Shut up. That's what I thought.'"

We saw this chalk drawing outside a friend's apartment and fell in love

Me with Princess Butterscotch Belly aka Ollie, Catt the Photographer's beauty

It is such a fun sweater I'm tempted to go and buy it (while I'm deciding, I'm holding onto it for this weekend). I worried a little that wearing it with those Martin Fit Banana Republic pants and flats would be a little Taylor Swifty, but as someone at Sunday evening's gathering said, in order to truly look Taylor Swifty, I would have been wearing white foundation, dark eyeliner, and a bright red lipstick. Eek. The mere thought of that look on me makes me think:

I knew she was trouble when she walked in/so shame on me no-o-ow

I Got Stripes Around My Shoulders

Not shared: the one where I'm being myself and am all "Nature, eew!"

Earlier this evening, I was reviewing the pics that Catt sent over to me for this booger post--and if you haven't already gathered this, either from being my Facebook friend or from the numerous photos I've used here, I love Catt and I love her photos; if you are a fan of looking at interesting, beautiful, or neat-o things, I suggest following her Flickr--I was lamenting my seemingly undefeatable, unreducable gut. That sort of pudgy look is cute when you're the Michelin baby or an elderly grandmother, but it's pretty frustrating when you're 36 years old and are have been doing stupid planks and Supermans and mountain climbers for nearly two months.

Luckily, after moping a bit, then showering off the Michelin-baby-tear sweat from my time at the gym, I then tried on my very last (for a while) eBay purchase, a size 12 green summery dress from Dress Barn. And while numbers don't matter and sizing is all relative, et cetera, female power, Dove True Beauty... I could have cried when it fit perfectly.

Suddenly, life has new meaning to me. There's beauty up above. And so on.

Fun fact: this song is also great for singing to your pets (or, like, a partner or spouse, if you have one of those, you weirdo), because it's flexible. For example, you can sing, "There's Buddy up above, things he never takes notice of" or "Plum wakes up, suddenly, she's in love." Try it! I guarantee you'll enjoy yourself.

---

On the outfit front, Gwynnie Bee sent me not one, but two stripey cardigans, so I thought I'd ask Catt to take better photos of me than my stupid cell phone provides so that I could do a theme-type post.

The first one was an Eloquii diagonal-stripe cardigan, and I was so excited that I finally had a reason to bust out my "signature" Lia Sophia Curio necklace.

I hope to see basket hats as a booger must-have accessory soon; also, mosaic dresses

Action! shot that gets you a little closer to the necklace

And Catt's favorite shot, which she affectionately named "Derp"

We went over to the Waters Garden for those shots; it's so pretty and full of screaming children, who you think may be getting kidnapped, but it turns out they're just loud jerks.

Today, I wore the Rafaella Zig Zag cardigan with one of my eBay Loft skirts I had yet to take for a spin. Once I decided on the cardigan with the red tank, it wasn't a stretch to add the skirt with the pink ribbons and my new necklace that I picked up at Banyan Tree on my weekend trip to Cleveland (on clearance) and go all-out with my Valentine's Day-walking Russell Stover heart-shaped-chocolate-box look.

I'm not trying to be Janice Dickinson; I'm just mid gum-flapping.

Adorable that my every attempt at Serious, Y'know, Like a Model ends up Smug A-Hole

Photographer's favorite; delightful, since I was basically trying to creep her out

So my big plan for the weekend is to wear my cute Jane Eyre tee shirt again, eat something BBQed, go to Hard Body, and for goodness sake, get back on the stick with Couch to 10K. Sadly, I don't think there will be any fantastic bxw glamour shots of me doing all of these things. But I think you guys will survive.

Jessie's Biscuits + Gravy

Jessie's Biscuits + Gravy, a photo by givemethegun on Flickr.

So that's what I did with my weekend. How's about you all?

(I also pet the bulldog featured in the linked photoset, as well as the tiny kitten you see me holding... all in all, life is good and I call that a successful long weekend away from home.

I also talked to people. I guess.)

Backsliding

So the minute I wrote the word "backsliding," I thought two things:

1)

2) Mmm, sliders. I don't know what it is about those little guys! My introduction to the concept wasn't the best--one of the VPs at the captioning firm where I worked would buy a sack of White Castle for our potlucks, and by the time we got to them, they were reaching the unpleasant side of cool (not to mention being White Castle)--but I am obsessed with finding them on the menu of various area gastropub-type places.

How apropos that my second thought was a paragraph about sliders when I'm going to talk about my recent dabbling in backsliding on calorie counting. Or at least it felt that way. It was really only one incident--a delicious salty-sweet Chicago Mix of an incident--but combined with the fact that I then didn't do any kind of exercise for two days, I felt completely and utterly disconnected from my well-established way of doing things to get healthier.

I bought the Chicago Mix--for those of you neophytes who have not experienced the glories of Chicago Mix, it is half cheddar popcorn, half caramel popcorn--with the intention of eating one serving. But it had been quite a day Monday, largely due to work stressors and sort-of-half-ignored-Mother's-Day-makes-me-sad stressors and taking-Trumper-to-the-vet-which-wasn't-his-regular-vet-and-having-his-bladder-stabbed-with-a-needle stressors. And the latter two stressors sort of fold in on one another, because Mom was always so good and thoughtful with our various pets, and I am not very good or thoughtful if Trumper is having pee hose problems, and I wish she were here to talk to when the cats get sick, what am I going to do, Plum is 12 now, and I've never had to be in charge when a pet is heading off to the otherworld...

So you see from all that run-on sentence bologna that my solution of eating the entire bag of Chicago Mix, all 900+ calories of it, was the next logical step.

Duse and I have talked about our mutual shared fear that once you do something "bad," you can't come back. Like when you allow a vampire to bite you, and it takes your soul, only instead of a vampire, you're letting a Hardees sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit bite you. Twice. Maybe with some hash browns.

And clearly that's crazy defeatist logic. In my case--can't speak for Duse--I've always been a natural-born quitter. If something exceeds my God-given talents or capactiy, I like to quit, thoroughly and completely. When I was bumped from 1st chair clarinet to VERY LAST CHAIR when I moved from middle school to high school (because I didn't want to march in the GD marching band, which was sacred and holy at RFHS), rather than apply myself and work hard, I quit. Then I sold my clarinet to pay for an AOL bill. Ask Kate sometime about how often I said, "I'm moving back home" during our first two years in Chicago. And I was a mostly grown-ass adult at that point.

But I've tried to get better since then, accept that I will not be the best at some things (when I was getting all wound up about the 5K, Kate said, very deadpan, "You're not going to win, okay?" Which was both such a relief and SO INFURIATING to hear) but that it doesn't mean I shouldn't try them or keep working at them.

I've done pretty well on this whole lifestyle-change, lose-weight-thing overall, but sometimes the most important thing for me isn't to go to the gym or yoga or count my calories. Sometimes the most important thing is to remember the 3+ years of counseling I had after Mom committed suicide. To remember that the things I can control mostly relate to me and working to make me better, whether it's finding a new job or a volunteer opportunity or whatever else, is way more rewarding and far less frustrating than trying to change the past. And sometimes the things I can change about me don't necessarily pan out, but not panning out isn't failure, even if it really, really, really feels and smells like failure, and the only solution to failure is to quit trying and also to eat a bag of Chicago Mix.

And then something about the journey that's super profound goes here. I don't know. Kristen said something to me about the changes that happened after leaving Girl Scouts. Ask her for more details. (WINKIE.)

So I ate that Chicago Mix and didn't go to the gym. Two days later, I ran 3+ miles. My body still remembered how. And more importantly, me and my big juicy brain remembered how.

---

I haven't had very good pictures of my outfits lately, but I'm awfully proud of this one, where my goal to kinda sorta dress like Joan from Mad Men came together:

Next stop: red hair dye

Also: I wish to know how to do yoga right, and I don't want to hear any of that hippie bologna about how there's no right way

I was telling Duse this morning--before my phone died, and may I just say, for the millionth time, I HATE MY PHONE AND EVERYTHING IT STANDS FOR IT IS THE WORST I CAN'T WAIT FOR JULY AND MY UPGRADE--that I like a lot of things about yoga: I like that it slows me down and stretches me out and makes me think about being nothing more than a grain of sand (TM Jack Black Version of Paul McCartney).

But one of my frustrations with yoga is that the instructors often talk about the impact on certain internal organs. "Breathe in the bottom half of your lungs" or "Can you feel that in your liver?" Answer: no, I can't, because I don't know where half of that garbage resides in my body. I'm sort of confident I know where the lungs are. Uh, the heart is below or around them probably? The rest is just assorted glop. I picture it being kept in a plastic bag like the giblets in a turkey.

Exhibit A:

Be careful when you remove my water on the knee; BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!

I was not a very attentive student in science classes... is what I'm trying to say. Also, I got a C+ in Human Sexual Biology, so you probably shouldn't ask me (or Coach Cutlip) (does anyone remember that Wonder Years episode?) to draw the female reproductive system.

I'm not saying that the instructor should adjust her questions to more directly address my concept of my body, e.g. "Do you feel this in your butts?" Just hope she gets used to my puzzled expression any time I'm supposed to check in with my appendix or vestigial tail.

Tonight I'm doing the boxing challenge at LadyGym. Can't wait for that. That's more my speed (punch kick HADOUKEN hee hee).

---

Catt took fancy pictures of me when we were on our way back from eating delicious, delicious fried chicken at Stanley's Kitchen and Tap--side note: ooh, BBQ Wednesdays!--because we finally found horses that don't scare me because they can't bite or kick:

On a steel horse I ride/I'm wanted/wanted! (and yes I know Bon Jovi is referring to a tour bus; don't argue semantics)

I'm wearing a top that Duse handed-me-down with a hot pink Loft tank underneath. I wish you could see the super cute Lia Sophia necklace I'm wearing. For reference, it's the one in this Pinterest collage:

Source: bling-angel.polyvore.com via Erin Rippy - on Pinterest

But personally I like the black and white photo more because you can see my kinda-bicep muscle:

I'm strong to the finish, 'cause I eats me spinach

---

My friend Jill shared this CORE Salsa Meatloaf recipe earlier this week, and because I had a pound of ground turkey in the fridge, I made a quick produce market run and pulled it together Monday night. I do not share the reservations of the blogger about putting delicious salsa on top of meat and baking it, and it turned out great. The zucchini and thyme in particular really give the turkey a flavor boost, and it is great to have something handy for lunches all week.

I also made Catt's Not Written Down Anywhere Spinach, Mushroom, Egg, and Toast breakfast. It's sort of labor-intensive for my morning routine, but it's so wonderful and--argh, sorry, I normally hate this adjective but--earthy. Plus, as an added bonus, I can get a substantial vegetable and protein. It goes like this:

1) Saute a handful of mushrooms (I usually use baby bellas)
2) When they're starting to look like they're mostly tender, throw in a couple handfuls of baby spinach leaves
3) Put a cover on it and wilt until wilty
4) Make an over-easy egg and toast a piece of toast
5) Assemble
6) Eat

Kate shared that she does a similar thing only with avocado mash in place of spinach. Anyone else have a favorite buncha-stuff-on-toast recipes?

Nifty Nifty Look Who's [punch in face]

I know it's just a number, but it seems pretty signifcant: as of this morning, I have reached 50 lbs lost overall since late October 2012.

Thanks. I will.


Duse helpfully researched for me when I told her last night, so I would like everyone to know that not only am I down 2+ bags of kitty litter, I'm also down 2 hay bales (she did not specify round or square, Dad, so I don't know and don't ask), a lawn mower (I'm guess a push mower, not a rider), a window AC unit (reminder to self: I need a window AC unit for this summer), or 7 to 8 large college textbooks.

Take that, Oprah's wheelbarrow full of butter!


I think that more than the number, it's encouraging how my thought process around exercise has changed: even though I was doing fine on calories yesterday, when I missed my functional training class--because I am a bonehead and REALLY need to start putting the times on my Googledy Calendar--I could have headed home to the couch. Instead, I jogged the 1/2 mile to Chase to deposit a check, then walked over to Wells Park and did three laps around the jogging/walking path, which seemed to work out to a mile or so, then walked home. Then I did the Bethany Frankel strength training portion of her Skinnygirl Yoga DVD with my 5 lb hand weights (which Bethany points out is a LOT, and it is).

I called this photo "Fireplug Katherine Hepburn"; raaaaaaaaaaaaahlly I am

I was telling Kristen this morning that Katherine Hepburn in The Philadelphia Story had a big impact on me as a teenager. I thought it was so glamorous when she showed up in tailored horse-riding gear. So I try to dabble in a version of that look, even though I do not have striking cheekbones and am very clearly not 5'8" tall. Also, I am not from the East Coast. Also, I am kind of afraid of horses.

The orange ruffled shirt is from Target via Duse, and I absolutely freaking love it. Over it, I'm wearing a Banana Republic blazer with very preppy crown-embossed buttons I bought off eBay for $6.50. Bootcut jeans from Old Navy so I can wear my ankle boots... I didn't go so far as to get knee-high equestrian rider boots (yet).

So my plans for tonight are to volunteer at PAWS and then meet Jimmy Stewart out by the pool...

Just a quick update to say...

...that I am dressed like Donna Reed attending a tea party or some shit, and I love it.

Dress Barn dress picked up from eBay for $8.90, belted with my new favorite all-purpose belt (also from eBay... you know, the one from the Goodwill in San Francisco, like in the song, "If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear gonzo bananas flowered dresses and a Banana Republic belt/also, you'll meet some gentle people there/but not gentle, like, Lenny from Of Mice and Men/more like really stoned people/also, Lenny wasn't really gentle, I guess, based on the fact that he killed that puppy and a bunch of mice and also Curly's wife/Spoiler alert"), a coral Old Navy cardigan handed-me-down from Kristen, and a dangly necklace from the Loft outlet.

Of course, I didn't wear a jacket this morning, because none of my jackets really went with this ensemble, so I was cold and crabby while walking up North and Clybourn. At least I look spring-tastic and sunny.

First 5K!

Couldn't have asked for a better day--well, we could have; it was drizzling and overcast and a little chilly--or better people to be with or a better neighborhood (ETA that'd be the Ravenswood/Lincoln Square area, in case you can't see the shirts; I didn't mention it anywhere else, duh-doy). That's Kate and ManKate, two of my very best friends and seasoned marathon runners, who ran with me the whole time. Kristen came out to cheer and then buy breakfast, and Catt (whose amazing Flickr is here) took a wonderful series of pictures, but because I'm an egotist, I'm only going to share the ones that feature me (so please visit her Flickr to see them all, plus many many other beautiful photos):

Pic by Kristen in color

Pic by Catt in black and white (plus: awwwwwwww)

Hamboning, as per usual

Nervously fidgeting with my number

Sprinting the last five seconds; I love how focused I am and how no one in the photo is even looking at me... that's running for you.

After, with Kate

And one of my very favorites (that doesn't feature me or the Kates)

Overall, I defied my expectations, considering how nervous I was this morning. I ran it in 36 minutes plus and kept my pace around 11.5 minutes on each mile. I have to say that the Couch to 5K app from Zen Labs was absolutely a big help in teaching me to do that (with some in-person advice from Kate from time to time helping tweak my training), and I'm going to start the 10K training with their 10K app because I really want to run the Frank Lloyd Wright in Oak Park with The Kates in the fall.

For the rest of the day, I'm going to sit in my housecoat (well, a gray Old Navy cardigan) and pajama pants and watch tv on my laptop while the day gets sunnier and happier. As I told a friend in e-mail: I feel like I did my time in the out-of-doors this morning.

Nancy Drew and The Case of The Phantom Fat-Girl Adjustments

One of the oddball recurring issues I have now is reaching around to assure myself that:
1) My shirt isn't riding up
2) My pants aren't so low that my underwear band is showing, e.g. The Marky Mark Look

I feel like they are, the long-standing curse of being too big or clothes being a touch too small or a combination thereof, but it turns out it's like the phantom limb phenomenon (thanks, as always, Wikipedia), only, y'know, for 40+ lbs of missing kitty litter. I should grow my network of Weightlossians to see if it's a wide-spread issue affecting the community, or if I'm simply haunted by my missing butts.

---

I tried to be bold and brave and shared the below photo on the Gwynnie Bee Facebook wall:

Sunday casual look

I love this top: it's not quite a faux wrap, because it has a side tie belt, but it doesn't give me the jitters like a full-on wrap would. Also, the pattern is funky fresh and awesome.

I liked it so much, I wore it to work the next day with my "new" Isaac Mizrahi for Target pencil skirt from eBay (which is a heavier fabric and also the zipper is frustrating and catches, so I don't know how many more wears it will get before being retired or resold).

Monday work look

---

I'm going to yoga tonight for the first time in about two months. I sincerely hope I can remember how to do things and stuff. At least I know I can officially do a side plank (for about five seconds).

Car Karaoke and my first selfie

I went home for a Dad and family visit recently. Normally when I rent a car, I bring a clutch of CDs along, but this time I relied solely on the radio to get me through the 7+ hours (actually, 8+ thanks to Loop traffic and my stupid error of driving up 94 through Milwaukee on the way up; an hour delay due to a lane closure between EC and Osseo on the way home) there and back. I had a surprisingly successful run of it, including:

1) Hearing "Lightning Crashes" three times and "I Alone" once. Are the kids bringing Live back? Did someone die?

2) Singing what I considered to be outstanding versions of "In Too Deep" by Genesis, "Oh Sherrie" by Steeeeeeeeeeeeeve Perry, and "Roll On" by Alabama (in particular my hammy performance of the "Somebody upstairs was LISTENIN'!" segue into the final chorus).

3) Learning all the lyrics to both "Carry On" and "Some Nights" by fun. (I had to Google-pod them on my YouTube; I guess THEY'RE the thing the kids are listening to these days) and "Trouble" by Taylor Swift. I heard each of these songs a total of six times on six different radio stations. Runners-up included Adele's "Rumor Has It" and the new Avril single (I refuse to Google-pod how to spell her last name) where she listens to Radiohead while falling in love and gets thrown out of bars and also sk8tr bois her eyeliner into being a hero with Chad Kroger's.

Also: are we sure that fun. isn't just a Queen or Kansas cover band who also have original material?

As I was leaving Dad's, I tuned in to Acoustic Sunrise on Cities 97, which was one of my very favorite radio shows when I lived in the area, and was just in time to catch this:

And I was pretty much a mess for the next ten minutes. Curse you, John Denver's Ghost, and sweet Brandi Carlisle and also Emmylou Harris (but not really; you my girl, Emmylou). Home is not West Virginia, but that song (along with "Calypso," for some oddball reason) has always made me melancholy. Add it to driving away from a too-brief visit with Dad, and it was super sad sack town in my rental.

Good thing I had three more rounds of Taylor Swift to look forward to, right? And also John Tesh's weird radio show where he plays lite FM and then shares Paul Harvey-type thoughts, only for rich white granola types?

---

I haven't taken a lot of outfit photos--my outfit yesterday, in particular, was designed by I Could Care Less by the House of Ugh--but today's is pretty cute:

Don't worry: I adjusted my cardigan belt after this photo was taken.

That's a Loft cardigan I bought from eBay paired with a Dress Barn tulip-print skirt also purchased from eBay (the pink tank is Loft, and it's a Large so it's therefore a little boobtastic). I feel like if I'm going to work out of being in a funk, I need to at least dress the part.

Also, my sis-in-law Joy informed me that a "selfie" is a pic you take of yourself and post to your booger (I had a fit of laughter over that because that is not what I imagined the definition of a "selfie" to be). So that's gotta happen:

BooooooooooooooooOOOOOOoooooo I'm the headless booger poster!

This is not an eBay purchase. This was a splurge, because I've never been able to fit into Banana Republic sizes before and because it's the Mad Men collection (and a Peggy dress at that; Peggy Olsen, like Emmylou Harris, is my girl) and it has emerald green in it. I'm thinking it could be a work dress, but I love it so much and feel so heartybeans about it that I almost want to save it for special occasions only. I wore it out with my sis-in-laws to dinner at an Ecuadorian restaurant--super, super delicious, and any cuisine which features seasoned potato pancakes filled with cheese is absolutely acceptable. I think I'll wear it again to dinner out at The Portage next Wednesday as well (they're making a dandelion cocktail! Mmm, weedy!).

Duse also bequeathed to me a metric ton of clothes as she transitions into her next teeny size, so I'm looking forward to adding those items into the rotation. Guess this means I have to stop trolling eBay like a creeper, right?

---

I'm continuing along with functional training. I imagine it is doing good work--I feel pretty good right up until I feel like someone hit me all over with a 2x4 and then pushed me down a few times for good measure--but about 40 minutes into the session, I often find myself making horrid whiny noises, particularly if the trainer says the phrase "30 seconds to go."

I'm also preparing for the 5K (in theory):

Pretty much, Homer... pretty much

Here comes the rain again (damn your eyes, Annie Lennox! Damn them!)

I was never a kid or teen who had a whole lot of interest in clothes. Like a lot of my generation and fellow Wisconsinites, sweatshirts and jeans ruled the day. When I did have interest, it was for the trendiest--and therefore retrospectively ugliest--items. Neon yellow moon boots? Check. Neon green stonewashed overall-skirt combo (worn to Bad English/Whitesnake concert)? Check.

I'm trying very, very hard, in my recent interest/obsession with my wardrobe to stick to a lot of colors and styles that will not come back to haunt me in pictures (and thank goodness none exist of me in those neon yellow moon boots). However, I am still loving some of the trends I see at Gwynnie Bee and my favorite stores: peplum, the return of neon in a more balanced, non-stonewashed-at-least-I-won't-acknowledge-that-colored-stonewash-made-a-comeback way.

And I'm planning my outfits before school work, mostly with giddy anticipation.

For example:

I was super excited about this dress, a Dress Barn faux wrap, that I purchased off eBay for $25. It is funky without being aggressive about it, it's flattering, and it gave me a chance to wear my beige/taupe/whatever heels, which is a trend that I think is now accepted as fashion canon (is fashion canon a thing? Should I stop talking in nerdy fandom jargon?).

I was excited about this dress, a Croft and Barrow "spiral wrap," in theory, but when I tried it on after it arrived from the eBay seller ($17.10--so important to note the price, isn't it, because I'm beginning to learn that unless it is a label I can't readily go and find myself in the store, I'm not going to pay more than $20 anymore), I discovered that "spiral wrap" was code for "no waistline at all."

Luckily, I had purchased a Banana Republic leather belt ($13, from the Goodwill in San Francisco, which has some thoroughly cool items for sale in their eBay shop) and was dying to try what I'd learned in my Beginner Belts course with Kristen. I checked in with her on an early AM e-mail, and she informed me--along with a guest judging appearance from her hubby--yes, yes, yes to the belt.

Wednesday was rainy and cold, so I reluctantly switched over to trousers--gosh, I wish you all had been at Plato's Closet the day I stopped by and the be-pierced twentysomething working the counter said, in reply to my query about selling my too-big work pants: "Do you mean...trousers?" And the italicized emphasis made it sound like I was trying to sell him some kind of illicit or embarrassing materials, like drugs or porn--and a cardigan:

Ruffled Ann Taylor cardigan (eBay, $17) with a Loft speckled gray-and-black tank underneath and Nine West pants I bought while thrifting with Kristen and Kate on Saturday. They're just snug enough around the waist to give me that lovely mini-poppyseed muffin you can see under my sweater. My favorite part besides the frilly cardigan was my necklace, which I bought at Hazel, because their Facebook page is eeeeeevil:

Sorry about the glare, y'all; better photo on Hazel FB page (it's evil! EVIL!)

I know that sometimes I can like flowers and whimsy to an alarming too-too-shabby-chic level, but the colors and the shape of this necklace called to me, and I loved it against the gray-black tank.

And then today happened. While I'd been thinking about potential outfits the night before, I also had functional training, which was bananas and kicked my ass all over the place. I woke up this morning to another dreary rainy day and was thus sullen about the first two outfits I tried:

1) A dress I purchased from the Goodwill in Arlington Heights is another one of those funky-but-not-too patterned numbers with the added bonus of a shirtdress collar without the shirtdress shape... but I think I'm still about five pounds away from a flattering fit, because my boobs make the waistline narrowly miss its target. Results: BOOOOOOOOO!

2) A stripey, springy Charter Club wrap skirt, which is also a five-pounds-more item, because the back hits me just high enough that when I sit down, I'm going to give everyone a little Bridget-Jones-going-down-the-firepole show. My bottom, it seems, is also the size of Brazil.

So this is what I committed to today. Take special note of the "Get it over with" smile on my face for the daily nerd pic to Kristen:

I guess the color combo is sort of a metaphor: it's spring, but it's also gray and gloomy here, and the trainer last night decimated me to the point that I would like to unscrew my arms and set them aside like I was Bender Rodriguez.

The top is Limited. Yep, eBay. A triumph, budget-wise, at 99 cents. I don't often buy high collars. Due to my round head and big cans, I stick to open necklines, mostly v-necks (Dave Rose of Happy Endings and I have that, and only that, in common). But I'm trying new things! I liked the color! It's mostly cute, but for the fact that I could have held in my poppyseed mini-muffin a little!

(I'm sure my dad will read this whole clothing section and say, "What the hell? Was that even English?" And the answer is: no, it wasn't English at all.)

---

It was a somewhat discouraging experience at functional training last night. I seemed to be the oldest person attending class by at least ten years, if not fifteen, and I seem completely incapable of doing any ab exercises for more than 10 seconds without wanting to crawl out the door. I could only seem to focus on what I couldn't do, or how slow I was, when normally I would be excited I was doing it at all. My body is tired and aching today, which suggests I did something, but I couldn't tell you what that was, other than fail and be chunky and flabby.

I'm trying to give myself a little room to be chunky and flabby, along with crabby and sulky (ChunkyFlabby CrabbySulky is the title of my dance album, dropping summer 2014). I've been so upbeat and Richard Simmonsy that I was bound to have an off day mentally/emotionally. I'm trying to avoid what my dad calls "a pity bag," where I crawl into what I picture to be a sleeping bag full of cartoon thunderclouds with frowny faces where I stew in my own pouty juices. Probably good if I take my day of rest today and run tomorrow so that I don't drive myself further into a snit. I had to take a walking break of 2 minutes or so during my first 30 min run and that cheesed me off; I'm afraid tonight I would just get off the treadmill if I felt the need to walk.

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Not included in bio: him butt stink.

Kate met Tux this weekend, and for a dedicated dog person, she went pretty nuts. If I could pick the perfect home for him, I would pick the next person who walked into PAWS and said, "This is my first pet, and I grew up with dogs." His love of running and chasing reminds me more of a dog than a kitten. Tux is definitely less mysterious and a-holish, than, say, Plum or Trumper.

(No one is less mysterious than E. Edward.)

Tux will go back on Saturday, April 20th, so if you know anyone looking for a goofy, high-energy, lovey dog-cat, you might want to send her/him the hyperlink above. Please name it something other than "him butt stink." PAWS thanks you for that.

Happy Friday!

An unfortunate combination of events:

1. My recent journey through eBay has given me the insight that I love skirts.
2. I work four blocks from a Loft

So as you can see, I was defenseless against this happy pink skirt:

Not my office, though I am now considering buying an art print of my own.

The top is Loft too (another "whoops, I was going to get my prescription at the neighboring CVS, and they're having a 30% off sale!" purchase), but I'm beginning to size out of it. Luckily, Kristen taught me about belts and belting billowy shirts last weekend, so I'm hoping to get a few more wears out of this cute flowered top before I have to hand it over to her (hee hee, such a sacrifice, when she has literally given me an entire wardrobe in the past three years).

I know I said I was going to wear eBay purchases this week, so here's my other happy spring skirt, a Talbots pencil skirt I got for $16:

The green Coach purse to my left is not mine, but if she drops her guard, it will be...

I never thought I'd see the day I wore a skirt to work once in a month, much less twice in the same week. And now eBay is sending me a marketing e-mail with "fashion suggestions for me." You're not helping, eBay. You're not helping at all.

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This week, I'm down 4 lbs for a total weight loss of 44.5 lbs. As Catt helpfully points out, that is two bags of kitty litter! Hard to believe I've shed two bags of kitty litter from my body. No wonder I don't have heartburn six days out of seven and also smell a whole lot less like kitty litter (probably still a little, though).

In exercise news, the LadyGym bootcamp is crazy popular, so between full classes and my overbooked week, I'm only going to be able to go twice. However, I'm very excited for tomorrow morning; I only recently stop having good-workout pain in my butts and my upper arms.

In the meantime, I've reached the end of the road with Couch to 5K: day 3 of week 8 is run for 30 minutes, and after that, it's go-go-gadget-5K! So I'm going to spend the next few weeks before Ravenswood 5K working on bettering my time and running outside as the weather improves. And I finally have a hoodie! Which means pockets for keys and my cell phone (which is such a piece of shit, so I think trying to MapMyRun is a pipe dream, but I'm going to give it a try)! Also, I'd like to get a small MP3 player that is compatible with my Amazon Cloud, so if anyone has any awesome suggestions that are not Apple products, I'm all ears.

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I had my first Level 2 Lead shift at PAWS, which means I'm in charge of closing duties and telling other volunteers what to do. Luckily, one of the old salt Level 2 volunteers was there, so I got told how to tell other people what to do. I like training wheels like that.

My favorite PAWS kitty right now is Mandell (her bio is here). She's a big juicy bean-bag chair of a cat, and her "behavioral" marker is sort of puzzling, as she's never given me a moment of sass when I've visited with her. After I'm done fostering Tux Bucks, if she's still there, I might be her holiday foster for a month.

Tux is great, but it'll be nice to be kitten-free for a while. He's going to make some family very happy with his capering, but at my house, full of adult cats and adult me, his energy level can be a bit taxing. I understand why Trumper is alternately curious and annoyed.

Trainers and friends and points in between

I attended my first functional training class last night as a part of an eight-week "bootcamp" at LadyGym. As I was just telling Mare Bear on our Lose It! friend comments bologna, I really liked it, even though it kicked my ass and, as Max Silvestri said in his act that I saw before both John Mulaney and Aziz Ansari, shredded my bis and quis. I'm stiff and hurting in my arms--that's the planks and "mini-planks" (where you lower yourself down to your forearms one at a time, then go back to regular plank) and push-ups--and my beeeeehind--that's the squats with kettlebell and buckets of lunges--but I was so happy to have gone and made it through. The trainer was such a great combination of no-nonsense--she had us run a round of sprints again when several members of the group (NOT ME) did not listen to her directions--and encouraging (explaining to me to pinch my abs to my "back pockets" during my push-ups to work my core more), and it made me excited to continue on, even though my schedule is getting pretty cramped with PHR prep and volunteer work and continuing to train for the 5K

I'd been thinking about the bootcamp for most of March, but having a conversation with Duse motivated me to go and sign up last Saturday. She's been doing her own thing for her health and fitness up dere in St. Paul, dontcha know--wokka wokka, Fargo!--and we've been spending a lot of our phone chat time inundating each other with food talk and exercise talk. It has been great: not only do we get to get all the obsessing and planning out of our systems, but we protect our other friends and loved ones from having to hear the constant monologue in our heads. She's been trying all sorts of stuff, like hot yoga and WW recipes, and I share with her all the 5K nonsense and feedback on all the classes I've tried at LadyGym.

But going last night and having a really positive experience, surrounded by other gals--most of them younger, damn them--made me reflect on how lucky I am to have so many strong and supportive friends in my corner. I guess something about the way we all came together in a circle at the beginning and end of the bootcamp class reminded* me of the network of friends who surrounded me in the days after my mom died, who took me shopping for a funeral suit and didn't think anything of stopping with me when I had to sit down and catch my breath for a minute, nor think twice about buying a toaster to replace Dad's grody and annoying one because that was the problem I fixated on that seemed to have a solution, rather than the very, very unsolvable challenge that loomed over Dad and Andy and Tony and me. There they were, Julie and Mary and Tracey, girls I'd went to college with, had pretty dumbass fights with--in Julie's case, still do on an annual basis--drunk with and cried with (mostly over stupid boys)--surrounding me and keeping me standing and steady enough to do weird, hard tasks like play hostess at my mom's wake about 30 years too early, by my count.

*Well, reminded me, with less burpees and jumping jacks, that is...

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And if I want to stretch the metaphor out, the trainer, the person who focused me and challenged me and supported me and helped me get stronger would be Kate and Duse. Kate saw me onto the plane to get back to my family, packed my suitcase full of dirty clothes--because I have a lifelong habit of always having at least three loads to do, minimum--and was my compass when I returned to Chicago, where I usually cried in the kitchen while doing dishes and wandered around lost and numb through our shared living space (and poor Mike, her future husband, who is such a dude...). And Duse, after receiving such a hard phone call where I didn't give her much room for her own reaction, picked me up from the airport and drove me all the way to Amery, where she stayed for three days, seemingly without a second thought to her own responsibilities. They're both definitely different, Kate and Duse--one introverted, one very much not introverted--but they're two of the best friends a girl could have and will have, hopefully, until the day I die (cause of death: buried under a pile of cats), and I take so much inspiration from how they've faced the challenges in their own lives--getting married, buying houses, turning a hobby into an amazing and award-winning skill, having parents face health crises--and the way the two of them have been front-line cheerleaders as I began to change my eating and exercise habits has made it easier and easier to tamp down the occasional negative voice in my head that says I have a long way to go or that something, like running for longer than 90 seconds at a time, is impossible.

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I guess overall, it is a positive thing that this phase of getting healthier is helping me revisit the past six years from a different angle. I never want to bury it. And for how true it felt when I said my mom broke my heart, it makes me feel hopeful when I seem to be glued back together in a mostly whole piece, not too crooked or buh-janked. And I'm glad I have my circle of gals, whether we rode the E bus to "town" for elementary school, went to UWEC or Harlaxton, met over the Interwebs and points between, or married my smelly brothers, who still inspire me, challenge me and, from time to time, kick my ass and make me stronger. I may not have a man in my life--you know, a for-real one, not, like, Jeremy Renner or the guys on Southland--but I don't feel incomplete in any way (probably unfortunately for my aunts, who still hold out for a wedding).

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Enough maudlin bologna! I am wearing this top today courtesy of Gwynnie Bee:

Pictured: not me, though I wish, 'cause those shoes are great

Too bad it is currently out of stock at Igigi, or else I would have ordered it. It's so pretty and flattering. I looooooooove it. And after I send it back tomorrow, I will begin wearing some of my recent thrifting/eBay finds!

Highlights (not for kids) and lowlights (also not for kids)

Highlights:

1) Had dinner with Mary when she stopped into Chicago for the night! We went to Pizza Art (whose website has apparently been captured in amber circa 1996), then picked up dessert at Cafe Selmarie.

2) After deciding I needed to incorporate eBay and thrifting more into my plan for managing my clothing situation, I discovered a lost treasure in my hamper:

Hair: slightly crazy. Shirt: slightly crooked. Picture: perfect.

The fluttery white top is from the Ann Taylor Outlet in Pleasant Prairie (which is conveniently located steps from a Culver's). I think I abandoned it to Ye Horrifying Laundry Pile--no picture of that; much like Sasquatch, it is rumored to exist and to stink--because as pretty as it was, it was tight across my stomach. That's no longer a problem, and I really loved it with the Ann Taylor green cardigan that Kristen gave me as a hand-me-down about two years ago.

The necklace is one of the 1 1/2 successes I had stopping by Plato's Closet on Broadway. Apparently, that's a store for "twentysomethings," which is to say, "90% of the sizes are smalls or Juniors, so take your giant rack elsewhere, old lady." I also bought a Charlotte Russe tank in XL, which I thought would be a great layering piece... then I got it home and realized it had a convenient cutout where a gal's tramp stamp resides. Hence the 1/2 of a success. I might dowdy that up next week and put a nice bulky cardigan over it. Take that, Youth of America!

I guess I will continue my thrifting at Goodwill and Brown Elephant and wherever Kate and I decide to go in the city.

3) I continued my Couch to 5K training...

Lowlights:

1) ... though I have had minimal success running the full 25 minutes without a 90-second walking break. I'm going to try again tonight, but I noticed this morning that my knees were sort of stiff and crabby. I will do lots of stretching before I clamber onto the treadmill.

2) Also, I didn't go to BodyFit on Monday. Or do much strength training at all.

3) Also, I managed to gain a pound this week, even though I stayed within calories. I'm going to blame this on The Time of the Month that should be showing up any minute now, and not on the pizza I ate last night. I would never blame pizza. I love pizza. It was thin-crust pizza. It was like Loaf of Bread Papa John's or anything.

Uh, also I had half a lemon tart. And half an order of the Lasagna Art (phyllo dough and ground beef and some sort of rich yogurt sauce).

Soooooo... probably need to not do that right before technical weigh-in day. I'm going to weigh in again on Sunday, just to see.

Happy Friday, one and all!

Weekend Roundup

First things first:

(from l. to r.) Trumper aka Chunker, Tux

The picture is deceiving. I know you want to say "Awwwwww." I sure did. Even though this accidental-Ross-and-Joey-nap thing keeps happening with the two of them--it happened last night as well--inevitably, Tux gets all saucy and swats at Trumper, which Trumper does not truck with. Plum can bully him all she likes because she's the alpha, but this scrawny little interloper? No, sir! So Trumper hisses crabbily at Tux, and then Tux runs away.

But anyway: awwwwwwwwwww. It's cute.

I did a shift at PAWS on Sunday morning, and I sort of wished Tux were there. He would've been adopted for sure. The kitten room is sparse right now as we await the depressing miracle of life that happens each spring when a skillion million stray mama cats are brought into CACC and have litters of kittens. There were several families in looking specifically for a kitten. I don't understand it myself. Sure, they're cute, but they are also hyper, have needly teeth, and are often destructive idiots.

Then again: they are sometimes named Rainbow Unicorn. So there's that.

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On the Couch to 5K front, I had my first successful 25-minutes-with-no-walking run. It was very poky, and I had an internal debate that raged for well over two minutes about whether or not I should/could just take 60 seconds to walk around minute 20. Then I became distracted by my playlist, and pretty soon, I was done.

Well, I was also distracted by the gazelle with the Pantene-perfect ponytail on the treadmill opposite me who was running so hard she was making that THUNK-THUNK-THUNK noise that speedy people make when they outpace the treadmill and end up running onto the stand. I was sort of thinking of ways I could maintain my poky pace and throw my towel at her.

I know: I shouldn't compare myself to others and Just Do It and Believe In Yourself and all that other stuff. But seriously: shut up, Gazelle.

I am going to BodyFit tonight, which will be nice. Beyond doing some of my Skinnygirl hand-weight stuff at home, I've been kind of lax on that front for the past seven days or so.

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I probably should focus on all the healthy food I ate last week--I'm really trying to do what my former doctor encouraged several years ago and fill my plate at least 50% with green vegetables, even if it's just at dinner--but instead, I have to tell you all I had a cashew sea salt turtle from Amy's Candy Bar, and it was the bomb, yo.

A picture, despite what they told us in our youth, does not make it last longer.

I ate it while walking home from the Damen Brown Line, which made at least 5 of the 20 minutes of my walk fly by. :-)

Also, before the Aziz Ansari show--which was hilarious, of course-- I went out with Allison and friends to the Uncommon Ground in Rogers Park and had an amazing chopped salad, which sounds healthy, but I am pretty sure there was a goodly portion of Gorgonzola on it that sort of undid the health benefits of the lettuce and the cucumbers. I did manage to have tea in place of one of the fabulous-sounding cocktails. You win some, you lose some. But mostly, you wish you had another caramel sea salt turtle right this very minute.

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Here's my favorite outfit from last week:

That's a Charter Club wrap dress from Gwynnie Bee with a green "color pop" tank as a cleavage-protector. It's too bad you can't see the accent buttons; they were my favorite bit!

I'm really enjoying my Gwynnie Bee account--thanks again, Kristen, for becoming an advocate or an affiliate or whatever you are--and I'm hoping that between that and doing some thrifting in the next few weeks at Plato's Closet and Goodwill and eBay, I can manage to get through my fluctuating size for the next few weeks without blowing an exorbitant amount of money.

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My brother Tony called me last week to mention he tries to leave comments on my booger, but that he doesn't think it is working because he doesn't have a "Google Facebook YouTube" account (a joke courtesy of my other brother Andy, who loves making amalgam tech-and-'Net terms). It's too bad, because I'd be interested to hear what Tony has to say. :-)

Oh, and Joy: I am LOVING my new dishes. Much like Johnny Cash's beloved Cadillac, I am taking them home one piece at a time, but thus far, my mugs and small plates are home. I have officially boxed up all my promotional coffee mugs and the small plates I inherited from my parents about 20 years ago and can't wait until their bowl-and-diner-plate brethren join them.

Cheese and Wine and Whine

It's been a long, cold, frustrating week. It was especially apparent yesterday, when my attitude at work was basically "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" If I could have heckled work, I would have.

Side note: I went to see John Mulaney perform in Madison a few weeks ago with my former college roomie and current super-chum Mary and her guy Friday Peter. Mulaney was incredible, of course, and I laughed and laughed and laughed... but there was this one drunk girl nearby who was making awkward attempts to heckle, and it was the worst. Mulaney was great about it, opting to acknowledge it in a puzzled manner, then ignore it completely, but... honestly. Do people not have friends who are mortified by that sort of behavior? Do a-holes all run in a similarly a-holish pack? Heckling: only appropriate if you're funnier than the comic, and this girl wasn't by a wide-ass margin.

So back to the cruddy week: I was supposed to be in my virtual PHR prep class last night, but I've been having a lot of trouble engaging with it, in large part because the chat option allows for students to talk and ask questions and be disruptive throughout the entire class, and the virtual professor* contributes by addressing the nonstop nattering in real-time. So when Kate (here is her blog, in case you want to marvel at mind-blowing cakes) mentioned that she wished I didn't have to go to class, because she could use happy hour, I responded by saying I was declaring Thursday a Ditch Day... much like our early halcyon days of youth in England, where I was finishing out my college career and routinely tried to be a bad influence on Kate's earnest studying ways.

So we went out and had a bottle of wine and some rich creamy cheese and parmesan garlic frites, which went into my Lose It with broad guesstimates--I had to picture pouring each of my cute little glasses of wine in a Big Gulp to determine how many fluid oz I drank--and I walked home from Montrose and Ravenswood and went to the gym and put in some time on the elliptical, but I'm pretty sure I was still significantly over. And as Kate wisely mentioned, calorie counting is great for losing weight, but there's a fine line where it can become an unhealthy mindset. Even as I work hard and continue to lose weight, I never want to lose my connection with indulging in triple-cream cheeses and something fried once in a while. I'm a sturdy Midwestern gal and, as one former coworker described me, a "cheese freak," and if I'm not feeding the creamery co-op milk tank once in a while, I'm afraid the Wisconsin will seep right out of me.

Besides, we didn't finish the frites. There's something to be said for making the decision to let an indulge come to a natural end.

By the way, I'm not letting Kate off the hook for this, despite her current crabbiness at herself: I read her interview over at K-Town's booger a few days ago, along with the very funniest person I know's, to give myself a little stay-the-course pep talk, and I find Kate's words alternately inspirational and pragmatic. It really helped me to remind myself that it's all about choices and control and health and happiness. And I'm not just saying that because she paid for happy hour last night (wokka wokka).

*Not Max Headroom, sadly... and I realize that by referencing Max Headroom, I date myself in a very, very inescapable manner.

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I begin week 7 on Couch to 5K tonight. No looking back: it's all "run a bunch of minutes without walking" from here on out. So if that's the case, it was only logical to sign up for my first 5K this morning. Get ready, world! Get ready to see my beet-red face sweating all over Ravenswood! Mike and Kate and I are going to run it and then go and get pancakes (as God intended).

I'm going to add some tracks (or as the kids call them "traxx") to my running playlist tonight to try and spice it up and get some motivation. Aim has been terrible/great about making some recommendations, which I will add to my #1 goal of adding the Joe Esposito number from The Karate Kid. My running playlist is a mish-mash of grrrl power! (Britney and P!nk and Garbage), Folk/Americana (Avett Brothers and Emmylou Harris), R&B/rap (Salt 'n' Pepa and Michael Jackson and Ini Kamoze?) and recommendations I never would have found thanks to blahmanda (Japandroids and...that one song I downloaded, "Burn," and I can't remember the name of the artist, but they're pretty great), but I dig it, and it's been a great motivator when I need it most, ill-timed Vangelis aside.

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My plans for the weekend are to have a morning of fitness with Kate on Saturday, see Aziz Ansari and go to Uncommon Ground in Rogers Park Saturday night, and hopefully BodyFit, then bumming around on Sunday, catching up with Justified and Southland and The Americans.

In the meantime, I will also be taking several pictures of my latest foster, Tux, aka Mr. Alley Cat. In a household full of bulky to muffiny housecats, Tux is a lean machine from the streets. He was fascinated by the terlet, which suggests he is just now seeing the inside of a house. Tux was in the L2 room, which is reserved for kitties who have a bite history, are afraid of/don't do well with children, or have super high energy levels (I like to think of it as Miss Plum Marie's Home for Discipline Cases and Jerkwads... but that's just me). After two days at my apartment, Tux's energy level seems normal for his age... he probably just needed a little more space to roam in, what with his scrappy Ellis Island-and-into-Hell's-Kitchen beginnings. He's a total lovebug, and E. Edward is determined to make friends, despite Tux's reluctance. I realize my booger posts have been pretty void of pictures, so perhaps I'll work on getting one or two into the next one.

PS My kitteny foster, Mr. Otter, is now available for adoption. I am going to go and see him over my lunch hour. I imagine he will be gone by the time the adoption center closes on Saturday. He's a bundle of personality.