Cheaty McCheaterpants

Ok, so maybe I didn't keep up with the blogging like I said I would.  But I certainly kept up (better) with the eating.  Come to find out, eating clean-ish isn't really that hard.  And when you consider the workouts on the 21 Day Quick Start from Beats Per Minute Fitness are only around thirty minutes each, that was pretty easy to keep up with too!

Overall, I am DAMN happy with the results.  I went to a huge shindig for work last weekend and had to wear a formal dress - thanks to the workouts and eating better, I actually had to choose from more than one!  And that hasn't happened in a looooooooong time.  Usually it's a matter of what covers everything up the best - this time, I had some attributes I wanted to accentuate!

My next event is Red Dress on May 16.  I will be finishing up this week on my own, and I plan to start Phase 2 of the Quick Start on the 4th....wish me luck!  You might even get some before/after pics!!!

If this is rabbit food, then call me the Easter Bunny...

Day Three

Lessons learned so far...

A little protein goes a long way.

If it weren't for spell check I would never spell protein correctly. 

I have abdominal muscles - and they hurt! 

I would never have to work again if I could invent a dairy free, sugar free, soy free, flavored, creamy coffee creamer.

If I keep eating eggs like this I will be sleeping with the dog. 

This isn't as hard as you might think it is. 

It's ok to skip a work out if you can't walk. 

Only 17 more days....the adventure continues! 

Day One: Goodbye, Cream & Sugar

Good morning!!  Apologies for the long absence.  Rest assured I wrote many MANY blog posts in my head, so you were always on my mind....

What, you may ask, is it that has inspired my return?  Originally I was going to answer that question with some negative words, like anger and frustration.  But I decided those aren't the reasons and backspaced all that out.  The real answer is "a desire to finally do things right".  WHOA!  Heady stuff, right?  Nah, not really.  In real words, that you are used to me using:

My ass is huge and I have finally decided to do something about it. 

Not a difficult concept, but I have put it off for too long, feeling like the distance between where I am and where I want to be was too large to overcome.  But I have learned recently (for $150 and hour) that perspective can make a huge difference in even the smallest things.  So I looked back at where I was last happy with my body and my fitness level.  About seven years ago, I was running and/or working out about an hour a day, 5 days a week.  I looked great, felt great - I was finally comfortable in my own skin.  And I realized the distance between here and there is really not that big.  The key was realizing that where I WANT to be and where I SHOULD be are not the same thing.

Right there, I reduced my situation from Mt. Everest to Forest Park.  

Enter Downtown Chelsea Brown - a super-fit, healthy-eating, glowing-skin bundle of all that is good in the world.  She noticed that I have been making some changes and seeing some small progress and suggested I do a 21 Day Quick Trim Diet - she did it earlier in the year, and although to look at her before pictures you never would have thought she had room for improvement, it made a noticeable difference.  I was pretty unsure - what do you eat, how much time do the exercises take....how much do I have to give up??  After Chelsea explained the ins and outs of the plan, I really didn't have any more excuses.  You eat pretty clean - I have been working toward that already.  Exercises take max 40 minutes a day...that's an episode of Supernatural on Netflix.  Drink a lot of water...I already do.  And it's only for three weeks - not exactly a long term commitment.  

Done deal.

Now I am getting down to brass tacks and following the diet plan - today is Day One, and I now know for a fact that I suck at planning ahead.  Meals will take some forethought, but the personal discipline will be good for me. 

And I am going to blog every single day to encourage all of you to encourage me!!   

Just think of it - you will be right here by my side while I give up dairy and struggle to get used to black coffee!  Oh, the FUN we will have!

Apologies in advance for the inevitable crankiness, and huge thanks in advance for finding as much joy in not being bloated or wanting to take a nap after lunch as I will.

Until tomorrow then.

(For more info on the 21 Day Quick Trim Diet, go to BeatsPerMinuteFitness.com.  And no, I am not getting paid in any way, shape or form for blogging about this. I purchased the plan through Portland Perks, and you can too at www.getmyperks.com/deal/portland/beatsperminute-fitness)

    

A Privileged Perspective.....

When I was ten my mom married an apparently great guy. He was polite, respectful of her parents, he treated her with nothing but kindness. He opened doors for her, he took care of her. Plus, he was a bad-ass!! In a way, he was the Knight in Shining Armor I think Mom had been looking for. I became the apple of his eye, and he was the center of my universe. It didn't seem strange to me that we developed a family tradition of pointing a cocked finger at the TV, "shooting" anyone with Asian features. It became normal for us to look at each-other disdainfully when we found ourselves sitting next to non-Caucasians at school functions. While other families would get together and watch movies or play board games, we sat around and took guns apart, cleaned them and put them back together. My brother and I learned how to make booby-traps in the woods around our house. We held the knob when closing a door, never slammed cupboards, and stood outside of arms reach when waking my SD up from a nap (it only took one look at the "where the hell am I and who the fuck are you" glare to know why that was necessary.)

Dad was pretty damn overprotective of me too - to the point where I was not allowed to talk about boys, take phone calls from boys, or even THINK about having a boyfriend. Once, when I was about 15, a friend’s brother called to ask if I would go on a double date. As soon as I heard it was a boy on the phone for me, I freaked out, expecting some huge blow up from the SD. I doubt I heard a word the poor guy said; I was so fixated on my SD's reaction to the call. (To this day I wish I had had the balls to have gone out with him.)

I didn't follow all the rules though: if you didn’t make your bed in the morning, the mattress would be on the other side of the room when you got home. On a day when I didn’t make my bed, Dad read about my "boyfriend" in the diary that I had hidden beneath my mattress and all hell broke loose. It was the beginning of the end of my honeymoon with my SD. Screaming and tears ensued - I will spare you the gory details. The only other time I lost it that bad with SD was when my friends came to my house to show me their outfits for the Tolo (sort of a Sadie-Hawkins type thing). When Dad threatened them with a shotgun for trespassing, the honeymoon was truly, irrevocably over.

As we kids got older we spent less time at home. Mom got a job in town and she also spent less time at home. I was never privy to the details of exactly why my Mom and SD split up, but I think it had a lot to do with increasing paranoia and possibly increased drug use on his part. It was pretty aware that my SD smoked pot and eventually there could have been more hardcore chemicals in the mix. 

In my opinion, all of this was the result of PTSD. Of course, I didn't know my Dad before he came back from Vietnam. He had probably been back for 10 years or more by the time he entered our lives and there is no way to know if he would have been a paranoid control freak with a penchant for guns and booby traps, and a tendency to react violently to surprise or loud noise, if he hadn't gone overseas. He might have taught us to shoot guns and throw knives and tie knots and construct panji traps anyway. But it doesn't take a mental genius to make the connection between "trained killer" and "shitty violence-prone father figure”. My brother has a few stories of his own to tell - not the least of which is the episode where SD put a knife in my brother's hand and forced my brother to cut SD, because of the guilt SD felt for hitting my brother. I think my brother was 14. Wanna know who's fucked up and why? BINGO!) 

So people talk about lost limbs, lost lives, lost innocence, and it makes them feel good. It makes them feel Concerned and Involved. It's only been recently that lost sanity has been talked about openly and with genuine alarm. I understand that, even in the age of equality, “men are men" and expected to tough out personal emotional issues - to Snap Out of It, or Get Over It. But let’s be realistic. These kids (and a high percentage of them are just kids when they go off to boot camp) are worked to the point of exhaustion and a lack of personal identity. Then they are programmed (yes, I said it - just like brainwashing) to think they are deadly weapons. Their purpose is to kill and not be killed. That's it. See that guy? Kill him. Did she look suspicious? All is fair in love and war - shoot her. Oops - that was a wedding party we just razed? Yeah, well, war is hell.

  And now that the war is over........come on home, Son, and forget all of that kill or be killed stuff. Settle back in to the kinder, gentler person you were before you got used to seeing body parts on the side of the road, heard your buddies scream in your headphones as they drove over an IED. Before your survival depended on assuming every shadow is the enemy. Forget the woman wailing over the body of her dead child - which YOU (accidentally or not) killed. Forget the kid that begged for candy only to blow himself up when an unsuspecting GI got too close. Yeah, forget all that. Snuggle with your wife, go back to your job at the ship yard, live the life you thought you wanted before you were tempted in to the "glory" of mortal combat. 

Riiiiiight....

 So if I can figure all this out - and I have known this for a very long time - why aren’t we all exploding over this, demanding changes in how our military men and women (yes, women suffer from PTSD too; although the numbers are smaller as fewer women see active combat) are reintroduced in to society? I'd be willing to bet the US spends more money on rehabbing and educating convicted criminals than on mental health care and counseling for our returning soldiers. I’m even willing to bet that some people donate more time and energy toward trying to outlaw birth control, abortion and same sex marriage than they do toward PTSD - maybe while at the same time, encouraging other people's kids to Join Up.

So did you hear the one about the veteran that shot and killed a park ranger at Mt. Rainier?

What about these gems: 

Iraq war veteran Martin Abel Poynter shot and killed a police officer trying to arrest him on a child-custody charge. He shot the officer and then killed himself. 

An Iraq war veteran stabbed his girlfriend's father in Morgan Hill California and pleaded no contest to two counts of assault with a deadly weapon.

Iraq war veteran Joshua Stepp is accused of assaulting and murdering his infant stepdaughter. He acknowledged responsibility for the death of the girl although he pleaded not guilty to first-degree murder and sexual assault.
 
Iraq war veteran Jason Pemberton shot and killed his wife, then himself in Daytona Beach.  

Iraq War Veteran Fabion Brown paid Broderic Glover $250 to kill his wife, Jessica, as part of an alleged murder for hire plot.

And the list goes on. 

So tell me……..is it still a surprise?











 

Downtown, everything's waiting for you.....

Whenever I get a chance, I like to go people watching on my lunch break.  My office is in the middle of downtown Portland, and lately I have been able to see some pretty good stuff.  Yesterday's adventure brought us:


The 300 Pound Lady in a Wheelchair Smoking a Cigarette - because you can never really have too many health issues at a time....


Occupy Portland "Protesters" Sitting Under a Tarp MASSIVELY Toking Out - the press and the public take political protests MUCH more seriously from under a cloud of pot smoke.


Guy Sneaking Up on an Intersection - I don't really know what to say to this one....


Pretty Sure He's Homeless Guy Wrapped in a Blanket That Could Probably Walk Down the Street on It's Own - telling me to eff off and he's going to shove "it" right up my arse.......I guess I can't really get along with all kinds of people.....


As soon as I figure out how to sneak pics of all my new friends, I will share the visuals.  In the mean time, trust me - it's good to work downtown! 

Political identity crisis....

I have called myself a liberal for as long as I can remember - ever since I figured out that labels in politics are like a jacket and tie at a fancy restaurant - required. Sometimes I even spice it up a bit and call myself a "conservative liberal" - even though my Dad says there is no such thing! Up until about a week or so ago, I was sure I knew what being a liberal meant. As such, I believe:

• No one is better than anyone else.  
• My body is mine. 
• Love is love. 
• Although environmental stewardship is important it should be balanced with economic realities.
• Religion and government don't mix, but I don't really care if there is a creche at City Hall and I won't complain until my beliefs are represented there too. 
• As long as you don't physically hurt or take anything away from others, you can live your life the way you see fit.  
• What's fair is sometimes the right choice over what the market will bear. 
• "Takes too long" or "costs too much" are not valid excuses for ignoring the process to US citizenship. "I was born here" or "my parents brought me here when I was a kid" are. 
• I believe in a flat income tax - for individuals and companies - no loopholes, and no inheritance taxes.

 The list goes on, but I think you get the idea. Big on personal freedom and fairness, not so big on government regulating "morality".

So imagine my surprise when I received a blog via email from my Dad that espoused an entirely different definition of "liberal"! The author had the gall to claim liberals are more close-minded than conservatives. As I huffed and puffed my indignance to my fellow cube-dwellers, I was met by a quiet yet firm voice of dissent that said "oh yes they are!".

The ensuing conversation with my "office Dad" - as I will call him (protecting his identity and the fact that he is not nearly old enough for a forty-something to call him that) - went on for about 30 minutes. The most surprising thing is that it didn't result in my walking away, shaking my head and mumbling about how out of touch this guy is. It resulted in me smacking my forehead and asking myself if maybe I am the one that is out of touch!

Am I so enamored with my own definition of what I think it means to be a liberal that I have ignored what everyone else thinks it means?  Is there a larger group of liberals that represent all sorts of other crap that I don't believe in/care about/support?  This certainly called for some research and a blog post.  So I fired up my bff Mr. Google to see what the rest of the world thinks I think -  and HOLY CRAP if it's not all effed up!! 

According to Conservapedia.com,  I: "reject logical and biblical standards, often for self-centered reasons",  support "income redistribution, usually through progressive taxation" and teach "acceptance of promiscuity through sexual "education" rather than teaching abstinence from sex".

At Moralhealth.com, I found out I believe "violence in the media does not really have a deleterious impact upon how children behave"

Over at studentnewsdaily.com, I discovered that I "believe that undocumented immigrants have a right to all educational and health benefits that citizens receive (financial aid, welfare, social security and medicaid), regardless of legal status" and in general, all "the same rights as American citizens".

Um, no - I'm just not feeling it.  These are not the things I believe in, they are not the ideals I support.  So where does that leave me?  Am I destined to the ambiguity of "independent"?  Is there such a thing as a liberal independent?  What's the party of common sense and individual freedom without persecution called?  Really - somebody help me out here, because it's glaringly apparent that - at the very least - I have on the wrong tie.

Everything you learned in kindergarten doesn't apply in Washington DC.

OMG people! My kids can't stand each other and yet when one has something the other one wants, they STILL manage to get along better than you! What happened to share, play nice and take turns? Can't we all just get along?? Apparently we can't, now that the party of "I Get What I Want or I Will Take My Ball and Go Home" has moved in to the beltway. (BTW, when one person or person attempts to exert control with a my-way-or-the-highway standard policy, I'm pretty sure that's called blackmail, or maybe extortion - I get the two mixed up......I'm just saying. )

Basically there are two schools of thought in Washington right now: either cut back on spending (only) or cut back on spending and raise revenue. MILLIONS of households are in a similiar situation, albeit on a smaller scale. Ask any of them how they have managed during this recession and I bet all of them will tell you it has been with the combo-plan: lose the movie channels, take public transit; get a part time job, ask for that promotion....why is it that the average people can balance thier budgets better than the people we pay to do the same thing for the nation? Is it really that hard?

While the "leaders of the free world" shackle themselves with assinine promises to never compromise (which sounds like a great excuse to do nothing), and glorious phrases like "now is our chance to do something big" the rest of us wait for them to get the country's fiscal house in order. You know why businesses aren't hiring, why home builders aren't building, why high school graduates aren't heading off to college just yet? One word: uncertainty. No one knows what to expect and no one wants to be the lead lemming. So we wait.

Dear Washington,

Give us something we can count on. Sometimes you have to give a little to get a little. If you need advice, you can call my kids.

Signed,

America