Bucket List

I've never been fond of the concept of a bucket list - that list of things you really want to do before you die.  I figure, just do them now instead of writing them down, saves time and paper.  But I am a fan of prioritizing, putting down in black and white what truly matters, and letting the little stuff slide.  For my MBA course right now I am doing pre-work exercises, designed to help you figure out your day, and what you can trim down while you shoehorn in your education.  Ironically, it's stuff like this - blogging - that I could easily cut out.  Writing takes a lot of time.  Editing takes time.  Finding links...you get the idea.  But blogging helps keep me same, so for now, blogging stays.  Facebook and LJ can go, and quickly.  So that will free up some chunks of time.  My favorite websites can fall to the wayside for the time being - Financial Times and Harvard Business Review will be my go-to URLs for the foreseeable future.  The same needs to be said for getting healthy - you have to figure out what goals are important, and which aren't, and tailor your regimen to that concept.

I think the reason so many diets/health plans/whatever you call them fail is that people fail to prioritize their goals - they say to themselves "I want to look like Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex in the City, in the next 90 days!".  People, puh-leaze.  It takes SJP a couple of hours in the hair and makeup chair to look like SJP in SITC, you think YOU are going to pull it off in 12 weeks?  No.  Pick a realistic goal, like "I hope to walk up 3 flights of stairs without getting winded" or "I want to walk 3 miles".  If you shoot too high when you are just starting out, you'll get frustrated and more than likely give up.  Set immediate, smaller goals for yourself along the way, while keeping your eye on the larger prize.  

For now, my IMMEDIATE goal is to get healthy enough to run around in the Closing Ceremonies without looking (and feeling!) like I am going to die.  My long term, possibly by the age of 40 goal is to wear a tankini at the beach.  But within my immediate goal, I have smaller sub goals.  Right now, I need to focus on weight loss, and increasing lung capacity, then I'll work on longer cardiac pushing exercises, and the like.  So I'm working on food choices as well as increasing aerobic activity.  Putting on muscle isn't the largest issue right now, it's getting the fat off first, so my muscles can actually work the way they are supposed to.

This weekend, my mini goal is to enjoy my birthday, have lots of love and cuddles with my husband and kid, and then start again on Monday.  Little goals, added up, equal great things.  "From little acorns..." and all that.  Have a good weekend, folks!

When Life Gets in the Way

I apologize for the lack of posts, life is very quickly gearing up to explode in May.  Baby is starting nursery 2 afternoons a week so I can

- Get house organized
- Get study area set
- START STUDYING FOR MBA THAT BEGINS IN, OH, 2 WEEKS

Meanwhile, the Olympics rehearsals start at the exact same time, which means crosschecking schedules with babysitter and husband, and wondering if I have the strength to make it to August 12th without resorting to buying pep pills from dodgy online sellers.

The seedlings for my garden are doing brilliantly though, and baby is over halfway done with teething and has actually let us sleep through the night the last week or so (HUSSAH!), so to be fair, life is pretty damn great.  I'm eating pretty well, I just need to massively get my ass in gear to help create that sustainable muscle mass that all the bone structures just love to nestle into.  (I mean my bone structure, not my husbands.  Heh.  'Bone'.)

This week, I need to:

Find a new pair of walking shoes
Get my Kindle sorted to 'read' out many of my MBA texts so I can push baby while listening
Keep on keeping on!

Good news and bad news!

The good news in the US is, the BMI charts are off.  The bad news is we are WAY fatter than we first thought.  

Listen to your gut

I was walking baby Alex in the garden when our neighbor came out and was making funny faces with him, and mentioned he didn't look his peak - he's a step father to two, and a grandfather to one, he knows that look of a poorly kid in a heartbeat.  Alex has just gotten over an awful bug that saw us heading to the hospital at one point because we couldn't get the fever down.  We were on the phone all day with NHS Direct*, but I wasn't quite satisfied with their answers, so off we went, and surprise surprise, he was BEYOND feverish.

I love NHS Direct, but there is one thing they always do that bugs the crap out of me.  When they are assessing my kid, they always invariably ask, "Is he your first?", and when you say yes, there is always the same sad little sigh on the other end, as if to say, "Oh, you're an idiot first time mother, I can see you are probably freaking out over nothing".  Now, it is true I am a first time mother and overall, I am an idiot, but I do still have some faculties about me.  When my child wakes up in the middle of the night screaming, with a body temperature that feels like I put him in the microwave to dry him off after his bath, then I know, first time mum or not, that there is a feckin' problem.  Pushing a child out of my vagina for the first time does not actually make me less able to sense heat fluctuations in the skin.  It also has not made me incapable of saying that there is a problem and I am going to damn well do something about it. Turns out the massive bug he had triggered a huge ear infection, which was causing the fever.  I may be a first time mum, but I still have a gut, and I listen to it.

And yet, I don't listen to my gut in so many other ways.  I know, for instance, that Cornettos (ice cream comes) hurt my tummy.  I know that pasta will make my brain go quite angry about 30 minutes later (I think it has something to do with the massive influx of carbs hitting me all at once).  Yet, I eat these things.  And why?  Because...because I love my kid more than myself.  I'd walk to the end of the earth if it meant he'd smile at me, but I won't cross the street to save my own life.  You can pretty that up and say it's a mother's love, but it's also a girl's ingrained hatred for herself.  That's tough to admit, but true.

I haven't weighed myself since I started this journey.  I guess I need to today.  I haven't been worried about what I was eating, because I was moving more, but I have to remember, it's a total process.  You can't just starve and then loaf about, and you can't just walk more and then eat a cake.  You have to be willing to walk to the end of the earth for YOURSELF, because YOU are worth it.

Sorry this ended on a down note.  Here's a video of a jester telling Henry VIII that his wife is cheating on him.






*US people, think of it like Urgent Care, but instead of going in you just call them and a nurse assesses you over the phone and then makes a recommendation as to whether you come in or not.  Yes, the UK health care system does kick the ass of the US, why do you ask?.

How to make Old World Style Easter Eggs...

...or why I think dressing up your food is fun.

In the days before Paas created neon green, Ben 10 stickered Easter eggs with their own American Idol themed sets, egg stands, and googly eyes, people used the elements around them to create beautifully decorated eggs for the religious season.  Every country seems to have their own recipe for decoration - as a child of a Eastern European grandparent, the amazingly intricate Pasch eggs were a staple in our home.  But, she also was adept at making the more rustic, beet juice and onion skin wrapped eggs.  As I became older, I realized many other nations had their own version of the wrapped egg - Italians, for instance, used flat leaf parsley as a decorative motif!  What I love about this very basic recipe is that it allows for whatever you have on hand to create beautiful works of edible art.

What you will need:

About a dozen onion's worth of onion skins
Beet juice (canned is the easiest)
About a dozen eggs
Herbs of any size, flavor, etc.
A pint of water
A large glug of white vinegar
Stainless steel strainer and pot
A pair of women's nylons with the legs cut off and underwear portion discarded

A few notes before we begin:  

If you don't want to buy a dozen onions (not everyone goes through them like me!), just buy one or two, and then STUFF the bag with onion skins that are laying in the onion bin.  Do make sure you go through the self checkout though, or you will get weird looks from the cashier.  Or, just ask your green grocer if you can grab a few handfuls of skins that have fallen off.

And size and color egg is fine, even speckled eggs are beautiful with this recipe!

While you may want to experiment with foliage other than herbs, make sure you look up whether the compounds in the leaves are deadly.  While you won't be eating the flower petals or leaves you choose to use, some of the trace elements could leach into the eggs themselves.  However, red cabbage, any type of onion, broccoli leaves, even iceberg lettuce leaves make wonderful patterns.  Do you have something in the fridge that looks like it may go off soon?  USE IT.

The process:  

Onion skins, frozen beet juice.  And bacon.  

1.  Chuck the onion skins, vinegar, and about a cup or beet juice (or more, if you like) into a pot with the pint of water and bring to a boil.  Lower the heat, and simmer for about 30 minutes.





 2.  Gently wash your eggs with lukewarm soapy water, rinse, and set aside.

OM NOM HERBS

3.  Grab whatever herbs or food safe foliage you have on hand, and put them in a bowl with water to get wet.  As you can see, I chose a lot of sage from my garden, because it's broad leaved, and to be honest it grows like a weed and I rarely make that much stuffing.  I also chose thyme and some lovely mint.


4.  Apply the wet foliage to the egg.  If will not stick magically, you just need to smooth it onto the surface.

Fishnets are good for something.

5.  Now for the tricky bit.  Holding the leafy egg in your fist, guide the egg through the nylon, all the way to the toe.  Using your finger, gently move any leaves that have slipped out of place back where you want them, and then tie a knot at the end of the egg, making a little sausage casing of hosiery and egg.

6.  Continue with the rest of the eggs, laying down a leaf pattern, sliding it through the nylon, and securing it with a knot between each egg.

By this point you should be about 30 mins into the project.  Strain the onion skins out of the now deep red/brown water, and let them cool slightly.

Murderous hands

7.  Try using some of the now cooled off onion skins as foliage as well - use a Modge Podge method (slapping them on the egg, overlapping, etc), and then slip them into your makeshift casing as you did with the herb ones.

Looking gross for now.  

8.  When all the eggs are ready (or you have run out of nylons!), pop them in the water, turn up the heat, and boil for 10 minutes.

9.  Let the water cool naturally - it will help deepen the color of the eggs.

10.  When completely cool, remove nylons (if you don't plan on making any more, just cut away the stockings - if you plan on a second batch, manually undo the hosiery).






11.  Buff with a dry cloth and a tiny bit of veggie oil to really bring out the sheen of the egg shell.

This is thyme, fishnet background,  and a little bit of buffing.  Delicate and lovely!

Lovely onion skins amongst the sprouts.

Pop the eggs in the fridge till it's hunting time, and you are all set!

Some Top Tips for a smooth preparation:

While this recipe is completely kid friendly, you will want them to step far back for the boiling part.  However, everything else can be done outside, or on the living room floor if you are worried about little hands.

Do not do this recipe the day before you meet the queen, as when you wrap the eggs in the onion/beet skins, you will get slightly stained hands.

As soon as the pot of eggs is boiling, CLEAN UP.  Beet juice and onion skins stain.  Beet juice and onion skins stink.  You do not want to look and smell like a serial killer who specializes in Eastern European immigrants.  Wash up, and quick.

If you want to keep your creations, use a push pin to prick a tiny hole in the top and bottom of the egg, and then lightly blow the egg innerds into a bowl before you wrap and boil them.  Alternatively, you can just let the egg shrivel inside the shell, but I will warn you that I've only seen that done with the Pasch waxwork eggs, I'm not sure what regular wrapped shells would do with a rotting, hard boiled egg inside.

When you unwrap your eggs, they may look like poo.  It's okay.  Give them a quick rinse and buff - some of the dye may come off, but you'll uncover the real pattern below.

***

While this recipe is great for Easter, I think it's also important to point out that we eat with our eyes first, and then our mouths.  If food doesn't look sexy, we don't enjoy it as much.  A lump of tofu on a sad piece of lettuce doesn't compare to a luscious slice of red velvet cake.  Sure, that cake might kill you, but it will look damn good doing it.  The good news in that we can make even our plain food all sexy with a little extra effort.  A plain salad, arranged beautifully on a plate, can look like Heston Bleumenthal himself made your lunch.  Lovely meals shouldn't coincide with major holidays - we should strive every day to indulge ourselves with visual treats.  Whether it is the Russians and their adornment of the simple egg, or the way the Japanese have elevated the box lunch to an art form, we should, even in this fast paced world, push to create and enjoy small moments of beauty wherever we can.

Spencer Tunick and Me

I was watching a documentary on Spencer Tunick called Naked States.  It's a fascinating look at Spencer, pre-worldwide acclaim for his large scale nude installations.  There has always been speculation as to whether Spencer was a 'pure' artist, using the human body as inspiration, or a perv who has managed to trick thousands upon thousands of people into posing for him.  I've always thought the perv angle was a bit short-sighted - Michaelangelo studied cadavers for artistic inspiration, but I wouldn't call him a necrophiliac.  At the very least, I can say my experience with Spencer was completely above board.

Yes - I, Fatty, have posed for Spencer.  (I'm in the image link here. I wouldn't press it if you are at work, as there are about 1000 people in the picture, all quite naked.)  It took a great deal to pose for him - over 8000 people applied for 2000 spots over 2 days.  Everyone had to apply twice, and THEN wait in line starting at about 10.30 the evening prior outside the Lowry in Manchester, England, before the gates opened at 4.30 am.  The first 500 women and 500 men were allowed in - everyone else in line was sent home.  I was one of the last 50 women, and I had been in line since 2 am!  It also took a lot to apply to Spencer, as I had been accepted into one of his installations before, in Cleveland (not work safe link), about 7 years earlier, but I chickened out.  I was in my early 20's, and didn't like my size.  Now, here I was, 70 lbs heavier, and I was not going to let this chance pass me by again.

Yes, I was the heaviest woman of the day in my 1000 person group.

Yes, it was difficult to accept that fact.

Yes, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I've written about it before, but it was an incredibly empowering experience.  Spencer's staff was exceedingly professional, and Spencer himself (when he isn't taking pics) is very funny and warm.  When he has camera in hand, he's a bit of a dick (because he's trying to get the best shot NOW, not when 1000 people feel like shutting up), but he's really cool overall.  It was a bit weird to go to the exhibit and watch the short film that had been done on it - I have an extremely isolating close-up in the video, and to see myself 12 feet tall, naked, on a screen, was a bit jarring, but still positive.

So *why* am I telling you all this?

We're told that the big moments only come around in a blue moon - Opportunity only knocks once, all that.  I don't believe that.  I think Opportunity is literally banging down the door, day and night, and we refuse to answer it.  We lose so many more chances in this life than we ever take on.  Standing on that freezing cold grass that chilly morning, I didn't yet realize I was two weeks pregnant.  I thought this photo shoot would be the most adventurous, challenging thing I would do all year (well, second to my wedding a few months later).  I had no idea as I posed in various locations around Salford that I would have a very difficult pregnancy, followed by a VERY difficult birth, followed by many complications.  It would have never occurred to me that this photo shoot would actually be one of the more calm moments of the next 12 months.  When both my husband and I were picked for the Ceremonies, we could have waffled and just picked one of us to go - after all, the schedules would be gruelling, AND we'd have to plan major babysitters to help out, AND we wouldn't see each other for at least two months, AND I'm starting grad school back up in May, so I'll be swamped with paperwork, AND,

AND,

AND,

And nothing.  If it's something you want, truly want, you find a way to make it happen.  You work around stuff, you find that little stuff like sleep and patience aren't needed immediately.  You make what you have work, instead of wanting something more.  You get the job done.

Get the damn job done today.



 

What we talk about when we talk about dieting...

I've found lately that when people talk about dieting, they don't actually talk about it.  They talk around it - they discuss the health benefits of exercise, of the hormonal changes of certain food products in the body, of clothes fitting better.  They don't ever come out and say I AM A FATTY YO, but it's subtly implied.

I'm not sure if I like that.

See, while I love health benefit talks, and hormone changes, and clothes fitting better, and I cannot stand the concept of "Dieting is great!  You just eat less and everything will be fine!" (because that is a lie), it's the subtlety that I dislike.  I am not suddenly changing my habits because I feel like doing something different - I am doing it because what I was doing before (eating a half dozen Krispy Kremes and then taking a nap) wasn't good for me.  It was, in fact, killing me.

When it comes to things like death, and shortened life spans, subtlety needs to get thrown out the feckin' window.  I EAT TOO MUCH AND IN THE WRONG PORTIONS, AND DISLIKE SWEATING.  THAT IS GOING TO KILL ME.  This isn't rocket science, it's what I was doing to myself.  And until I really and truly take ownership of my idiocy, the weight is going to yo-yo on and off.  You have to name your monster, and loudly, before you can truly grapple with it.

Sometimes it is your fault, and sometimes it's not.

As people who know me in real life are aware, I am bipolar.  I was diagnosed nearly eight years ago, and while I still have issues from time to time, my illness is well managed.  The other week I was noticing some odd symptoms cropping up indicative of a mixed episode, so I mentioned them to my doctor.  She attempted to prescribe a drug I had been on before that worked really well...by turning me into a zombie.  I begged her to try something different, and she did. So today I picked up my script, and looked at the side effects:

Extreme weight gain and metabolism interference, with severe sedation.

FUCK.

It's apparently the exact same group of meds that I asked not to be put on.  I *told* her about the 82 lbs that I gained as a result of the last med.  I *told* her in no uncertain terms that I could not be a zombie, I have a baby to take care of!  But sometimes, doctors only hear what they want to.

Fuck.

So now I have to either

A)  Try the drug and put my family through hell, all while knowing I am going to blow up like a balloon,
B)  Refuse to take the drug and possibly piss off the doctor, or
C)  Pay for a private doctor - essentially, a walking prescription pad to give me exactly what I want.

And all the time, I need to figure out how this is all going to affect me stress wise.

***

I told you that story to tell you this one.  A lot of my weight gain is my fault.  I like pie, and hate the treadmill.  Hence, I am a fatty fat fat.  But a lot of my weight gain is not my fault - a drug I was on for 1.5 years destroyed my metabolism in a very nuclear on nuclear way (that is to say, it nuked the nucleus of the cells of my body, altering them forever).  It also packed on the equivalent of an 11 year old girl onto my frame.  That, I can't help.  I'm willing to bet there is something in your life you don't like.  I'm also willing to bet while some of that situation is your fault, some isn't.  So, do you acknowledge the stuff that isn't your fault while striving to do better, or do you just hate yourself for what you cannot be?  Do you take all the blame, when some of it should not be on your shoulders?  Inversely, do you blame your 'other', without taking any responsibility for your part in your situation?

None of this makes a lick of difference in the end.  The weight is still there, whether the drugs did it all, or I just sat around all day eating pie.  I have to work twice as hard to take it off, even though I didn't have nearly as much fun putting it on - I popped a pill that saved my stupid brain is all.

Life sucks.  Wear a helmet.

Sorry.  I know you may have wanted a light hearted romp today.  I'll make up for it with this video of my kid laughing uproariously. Enjoy.

A Treatise on the concept of Chocolate and Dieting

I love chocolate.  I know, woman's blog, blah blah blah, love chocolate, blah blah blah, but really?

I LOVE CHOCOLATE.

I love everything about chocolate.  I love its aroma, its sensuality, its weird way of tasting like a thousand things at once, from the tiniest hint of smoke to the grass that grew around the bean plant.

(It should be noted that I am speaking of non-US chocolate.  Having lived outside of the US for a few years now, I can safely say that compared to Belgian/French/Scandanavian chocolate, American chocolate tastes like wet dog crossed with an angry gym teacher's asshole.  Sorry Hershey's:  You may have a cool theme park, but you make angry-gym-teacher-asshole grade choccy.)

My husband came home from Stockholm and brought me lovely dark chocolate with sea salt in it - thought I was going to lose my mind.  I pass by little shops with baby on the high street, and see gorgeous hand molded treats with whisper thin shavings of gold-leaf goodness on them, and want to scarf the lot.  You can't have chocolate in this house for very long - I will bake it in something, melt it down to drink, whatever it takes to get goodness in my face hole.  

I was at some function a while ago with a lady who worked for Green & Black's, and she told me all about wine and chocolate pairings. It was like a whole new world was opened to me.  I could get drunk AND enjoy chocolate?  Why the hell had I never thought of that before?  There is even a shop on the sea side, Choccywoccydoodah, that makes everything with and focused around chocolate.  Surely, this is a nation that understands the importance of the cocoa bean.  They may fuck everything else up gastronomically, but they GET chocolate.

So why do modern diets hate chocolate so?  Easy - it's good and good for you.  Modern dieting says that if it tastes like day old socks, it must be good for you.  However, dark chocolate can help lower cholesterol, kick in serotonin levels in the body, helps your body release endorphins, and has enough caffeine to give you a little perk in the body and mind.  AND it tastes gorgeous.  Melt it over some fresh cut strawberries, and you have a sexy treat that is still good for you at the end of the day.

Of course, you'll never see the sad sacks on Biggest Loser enjoying chocolate, or anything else for that matter.  No, for them it's bland Subway sammiches and a treadmill of boring.  Why CAN'T we get healthy while keeping great things around us?  Why do we HAVE to pay good money to go to a gym, work out on machines we don't like, and then pay £5 for a shot of liquefied grass?  Why can't we just walk around more, savour our food, and make wise choices?  

I'm not to the wise choices part just yet. I just ate a whole Easter Egg of chocolate that my husband had hidden - poor man, he still doesn't realize that I am a feckin' sniffer dog when it comes to sweets  but I am getting there.  I am remembering more times than not that food can be good and good for me.  I am remembering that food can be a part of my life but not my whole life.  I am remembering that I love myself more than food, so while I enjoy rich food, I do it in moderation.

Enjoy yourself today.  

The Glass of Water

There is a glass of water currently sitting on my kitchen counter.

It has been sitting there for three days.

I am thirsty.

Actually, I am dehydrated.

I know this because I keep putting Chapstick on my lips, hoping to impart some moisture to them.

I know the glass of water is there.

I pass by it 4 times a day to make my child's food.

Yet, I do not drink from it.

I am in need of water...water is in front of me...but I do not drink.

If that doesn't speak volumes about my attitude towards taking care of myself, I don't know what does.