Tuesday is letter day!

Dear Ruthie,
Saturday, you gave me one of the most wonderful gifts I've ever received. A professional-grade, brand-new-to-me Kitchen-Aid mixer. I know it cost a lot of money. If not what you paid for it, then the repair bills and accessories. The shipping alone must have cost quite a bit. I hope that when you gave it to me, you could see how much this gift means to me. You didn't just give me a mixer - you made one of my dreams come true. For years I've wanted one - it was even on my wedding registry. Of course, I never got one because although they are awesome, they are also expensive. So every time I went to Bed Bath and Beyond, I'd look at the beautiful mixers and dream.
But I don't have to dream any more.
Now I have one more piece of the perfect life - you've given that to me. I've always thought that happiness was a cat and a Kitchen-Aid mixer. Now I have both and know that it's true. You have done what my parents, husband, and I have never done.
Saying "thank you" just doesn't seem adequate. How do I tell you how much this gift means? I can bake you cookies and cakes and other things made with my mixer (and I will). I can write you a letter on my blog (which I did). But showing you how my heart is filled with joy and gratitude is more difficult. I am truly touched by your thoughtfulness and generosity. I can only hope that someday there will be a day that I will be able to give you a gift like you have given me, and then you will know all the words that fill my heart that are having a difficult time making their way to paper.

With Warmest Regards,
Amalia

Where an oft-used expression comes true

In Maine, there's an expression: "You just can't get there from here." Most commonly, this is said to tourists looking for a senic location they just can't seem to find (often because they're idiots and they're in the entirely wrong part of the state!).

I never thought I'd be using that phrase to call out from work.

The road I drive to work each day is flooded. It's flooded not even three hundred yards from my house. I left for work today, glad that the sun was shining after yesterday's heavy rain. My happy mood didn't last long - the road is closed. As in impassible. Holy crap! I wondered if people were just being cautious... until I really looked and saw that there is probably eight feet of water covering the lowest part of the road. Holy. Crap. I turned around and drove to the local gas station to ask if the back raod out of town was passible - if so, it would take me maybe six miles out of my way, but put me back on the road to work on the other side of the flood in front of me.

"I don't know if you're gonna be able to get to Millinocket," the owner said. "I heard last night that the road was washed out in three or four places."

Thinking fast, I ran through other potential routes. The next closest way would take me more than thirty miles out of my way. "Have you heard about Medford Center?"

The owner raised his left eyebrow and squinted in introspection, one hand lifting the brim of his greasy baseball cap to scratch at the hair underneath it. The hat and the eyebrow came down together. "You can try that way, I haven't heard anything. You're best bet is to call the Sherrif's Department and see if they've had any reports."

I thanked him and got back in my tiny red wagon and headed home. If I couldn't get though Medford Center, I'd have to go clear to Old Town and take the Interstate up. That's at least fifty miles out of my way. Once I got home I called the sherrif's department and asked them what they knew. The dispatcher said he hadn't heard any reports, but he hated to send me out there, since many secondary roads were flooded and they hadn't received reports on them yet because no one really drives on them.

Great.

I called my husband at work to ask him what I should do. He has, after all, lived here his whole life and knows the entire area better than I could ever hope to. Plus, one of his co-workers lives in Medford and might have the inside scoop on the road conditions.

"Well, hon Boob (that's his friend's name - honest!) says that the Medford road is closed, too, so that means you can't take the Joe Raymond Road. You can try going through LaGrange and taking the Howland road, but you'll have to go through Enfield and one of the guys says that's out, too. You're only other option is to get on the Interstate in Old Town and drive north from there."

"Is there any guarantee that I can get through the Alton Bog before I get to Old Town?" I asked, remembering that the Alton Bog is in rough shape on good days. I shuddered to think what it would look like today.

"Well, hon, you'd think we'd have heard by now if it were closed, but you never can tell. The water may continue to rise for a while before going down. You just never know. I wish I knew what to tell you," he said.

I hug up with him and thought furiously. Was it worth taking a fifty-mile risk without a guarantee of safe passage? My little Mildred is not the kind of car that can plow through giant puddles, and I'm not any kind of daredevil. Crap.

I called the school and told them that I wasn't going to be able to make it in today. "I just can't get there from here!" I said. I still can't believe that the old Maine saying has actually come true.

Yeay!

I'm officially a size 10! I can hardly believe it. I mean, I knew my old pants are too big, but they're old and stretched out - it doesn't automatically mean I've lost a pants size. But I have. I'm a size 10! It has been at least eight years since I've been that small. I can hardly believe it. I had to try on several pairs of pants last week, just to be sure. I bought a pair of gray dress pants at Fashion Bug for work (I will try to take a pic this week and post it), exchanged a pair of size 14 jeans for 12s a American Eagle (too big still, but better than the 14s!), and fit into size 10s there and at Target, too. I have been GIDDY ever since. Woo hoo! I even bought a couple of cute new shirts, too.
I also tried on a bikini. You're not getting a picture of that. Not because I looked fat, because I didn't. I still have muffin top, but honestly, it wasn't that bad. No, you're not seeing a picture because my body looks... well, it looks old. And wrinkly. All the places I've lost a lot of weight (mostly my bum and thighs) have that Eighty-year-old-woman-who's-tanned-too-much-for- several-decades look. It's gross. I don't know what I'm going to do about it, either, because how do you tone the sides of your butt? There's no WAY I can put on enough muscle in those areas to look good and not like some freakish Beyonce knockoff. I'm not sure if it will get better with time, if I'm screwed, if firming creams will help... any ideas?
Yesterday I officially began my running program. Eight days late, but I did at least start it over vacation. I don't even know why I procrastinated, because it wasn't bad at all. I don't know when I'll get another chance to run this week, either. I'm going to try to MAKE time. We'll see how that goes. I joined the website mapmyrunning.com, so if I can figure out how, I will try to post either a map of my run or my training calendar. Sounds official, doesn't it? :)
April Vacation was nice, if busy (I worked 36.5 hours at Rite Aid). Aside from my car breaking down again, nothing terrible happened. My car repair bill ate up my tanning money, Grey's Anatomy shirt money and my electrolysis money. I'm back to square one with all that. It sucks. Maybe next month??

Tuesday is Letter Day...

Except when you'd rather go shopping. And so I am.
None of my pants fit me any more, because of the weight I've lost. I wander around school and Rite Aid, one hand doing actual work while the other one hauls up my pants. I deserve a new pair of pants! And while I'm at it, I need a couple of bras, too. And I might try on swimsuits... just to try on. I have loads of errands to run, and I can't wait to get started. So no letter today. If I find a cute pair of pants, I'll take a pic and post it.

Take Care!
Amalia

Well, one of these days is letter day, damnit!

Dear Amalia,
You suck. No, really. You do. What other reason could you have for ignoring your blog friends all week? For not giving them the letter they so richly deserve on Tuesday, when it was due?! You're worse than your students! Some example you are. I suppose now you're going to tell me that you want to move Letter Day to a day later in the week so that you have more "time"? Well too bad. Tuesday is letter day. Get with the program!
And speaking of programs, what's with the lack of weight loss lately? Did you just decide to quit, NINE POUNDS from your goal? WTF? Suddenly you're okay with your body? Nah - didn't think so. So put down the candy bar and back slowly away. You've still got a long way to go, and putting it off does NOT make it go away. You're on the Oregon Trail, Honey - get your ass back on that wagon!
I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you could do so much better than you have been. It's time for some tough love, and I am just the one to give it to you! So post this article, apologize to your readers for leaving them hanging for so long, and go eat a salad or something.
What was that? You're having pizza for lunch? You never learn...

Sincerely,
Amalia

Vacation Countdown!

One more week until April vacation. I can't wait! It is going to be tough to get through these next five days. I have always said that the space between February and April vacations is the toughest time in education - there's nothing for the kids to do, the weather sucks, basically it's miserable for everyone. Thank God the warmer weather is here! Hopefully when we come back from break the snow will be gone and the kids can go outside again.
Contrary to what the lack of posting would imply, I am still working hard on losing weight. I want desperately to begin a running program so that I don't have to ride that damn bike anymore (I won't tell you that I haven't ridden it for more than two weeks). To make sure that I start the program out right, I bought "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Running" by Bill Rodgers and Scott Douglas. One of the most important things I've read so far is that before you can run, you have to walk. I'm supposed to be able to walk 30 minutes, four times a week before I even think about running. Sound simple, right? Well, due to my crazy work schedule, that is easier said than done. But I am going to give it a try. Today is day number 1 of walking. I will leave my house at 4pm, and walk until my husband picks me up on his way home. I will have to walk on the treadmill here at school at least one day (probably Wednesday) and both Friday and Saturday, but I think I can do it. If I do it this week, I will start running during vacation. I must save some money to buy some jogging pants/shorts and a runner's belt to hold my cell phone and mp3 player, but other than that I think I'm good. My weight goal is to be under 150 by June 4. I'll keep you updated as I go.

Bear and I are doing well - he's been doing a lot of repairs to the house now that it's warmer out. He put a banister on the staircase (I don't know how I went without it for so long) and fixed a spot on the bathroom floor that has been bugging me. We are still working on the garage, but it's tough to clean when we have so many things that have to be taken to the dump. He re-strung my clothes line and snow blowed the snow out from under it, so I can hang laundry out as soon as it stops going below freezing at night (yes, I leave my laundry out overnight. sue me). We have been trying to figure out a way to take a mini-vacation this summer, maybe to Nantucket. Does anyone have any insider tips on where to stay or what to do?

Not much else is going on, really. I'm getting very excited to be seeing Jeff Dunham at the end of the week. Are you totally jealous?!? Have you YouTubed him yet? You will be once you have!

~Amalia~

Tuesday is letter day!*

Dear Rite Aid Customers,
I realize that you and I haven't spoken much since I joined the Rite Aid team last September. In fact, mostly I just smile and thank you while handing you your change. That doesn't mean that I don't have a mind that thinks. I'd like to take this opportunity to say some things that I've been holding back. What follows is a list of important facts for you to internalize for your next trip to your friendly pharmacy:

1. When you hand me a twenty dollar bill and I mark it with the counterfeit pen, please do not say, "It should be good, I just made it!" and then guffaw. I've heard this one before. Trust me. It's not new or funny - it's annoying.
2. If I ask you if you'd like to donate a dollar to a particular cause, please don't say, "what do you think?" That's just dumb. If I knew what you thought, would I ask you?
   
3. While on the subject of donating to charity, please don't feed me either of the following lines: "I already donated" (possible but improbably, especially when you say it on the FIRST DAY OF THE CAMPAIGN) or "I can't afford it" (as you pay for your Snickers with a fifty dollar bill). I'm not stupid. Just say "no, thank you!"
4. For those customers with food stamps cards - STOP BUYING JUNK FOOD! The government did not give you that for you to buy cases of Mt. Dew and JuJu Bees. If you need help to buy groceries, then buy groceries - not useless crap with no nutritional value. You may think you're entitled to that money and you can use it how you want, but you're wrong. You're abusing the system put in place to help you. Smarten the fuck up.
5. Speaking of subsidy-assisting assholes, please know that I do judge you based on what you buy. Two bottles of wine a night? Alcoholic. Jock itch spray and condoms? Man-whore (and nasty). Weight loss pills and a giant bag of Reese's? Hopeless. Cheet-os and a drug test kit? Unemployed pot smoker. Stretch mark lotion (for your pregnant belly), Marlboro Lights and a thirty pack of Bud? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
   
6. Yes, I wear a smock and a name tag while working. Do not assume that this is my only job, or the best job I could get, or that I lack intelligence for any other kind of work. I am a college-education career woman who has a bigger vocabulary and SAT score at twenty-six than many of you will accomplish in your lifetime. You have no idea how educated, intelligent, and cultured I am. Don't assume you're smarter than me - you're wrong.
7. Simple courtesies like please and thank you will get you much further than demanding things or rudeness ever will. Try it.
8. There are Federal and State laws that regulate how I do my job. Getting pissed at me because I carded you does not help you get your cigarettes. I'm not in charge of the law. I am responsible for keeping my job, and I will continue to uphold all laws to keep it. Quite frankly, I don't care about your problems. I'm not losing my job because you're an idiot.
   

Thank you for taking the time to listen. I'm sure that now you've read this, you will immediately stop acting like such a bonehead and thank me for all the hard work I do for you. I try hard to make sure you have a pleasant experience so that I can, too.

Sincerely,
~Amalia~

PS And please remember our company's slogan - "With us, it's personal!"

*I know, I know, later again. I'm sorry! I will try to be better from now on. Swear.

And now for something completely different

Sorry I've been away all week... I kind of wanted that last post to stay on top for a while. I think it deserved it. Now that I again have control over those riotous emotions, I think it's time to lighten the mood. Therefore, I have news: I'm going to some of the most awesome comedy shows in the next two months. First is Jeff Dunham, who is playing in Houlton on April 19th. If you have never seen his stuff, go to YouTube and type "Jeff Dunham Achmed" and watch. Seriously. You're gonna die laughing. Well, that, or because Achmed kills you! "I KILL YOU!!" He he.
On Sunday my awesome brother Mark called and told me that at the end of May he, his fiance, me, my husband and TEN OTHER PEOPLE have FRONT ROW SEATS to Bob Marley! He's a Maine comedian, and he is SOOOOO funny. If you're from Maine, you MUST see his stuff.
They say that laughter truly is the best medicine, and since I found out that I'm going to not one but TWO comedy shows this spring, I've been feelin' fine! I can't stop smiling. WOO HOO!
If I can get any kind of pictures at these shows, I will post them.

~Amalia~

Tuesday is letter day!*

Dear Mike,
I'm sure you're surprised to be getting this letter. It is, after all, the first communication we've had in ten years. But honestly? We need to talk. Or more accurately, I need to talk and it's time for you to listen.
I don't know why you broke off all contact with my parents and me ten years ago. We never got an explanation, and although we wracked our brains for years, we never could figure out what we'd done. I wonder sometimes if we did anything at all, or if you just decided on a whim to cut us out of your life. Whatever the reason, I know that it did not have anything to do with me. How could it? I was sixteen when I last saw you. Your son (my nephew) was still in diapers. what was he, two? one and a half? The last time you visited it was summer. I was sixteen, turning seventeen. I had a great time getting to know my nephew, laying groundwork for what I thought was going to be a long happy relationship. I knew you lived in Missouri, but I also knew that you'd come back to Maine to visit as often as you could, and that once I was old enough, perhaps I'd come visit you. We'd always gone a long time without visits, as you lived with your mom growing up, and could only visit our Dad and us every other month or so. It was our version of normal.
I always loved when you and Mark came to visit. You and Mark may have been 100% brothers (as opposed to our 50% sibling relationship), but you couldn't have been more different. Where Mark liked to pick on me to get a reaction, you were my knight. You always defended me, and of all of my brothers (four in total if you count Steve and John), you were my favorite. You spent time with me, took care of me... you always had my back. I loved being on your team for snowball fights and fort-making. You were strong and took no prisoners, and always managed to make Mark sorry for being mean to me. I may have been small, but I appreciated that. When you were old enough and went into the Army, I was so proud of you! Mark's joining the Navy didn't have the same feeling. You'd done it first - you were the bravest, strongest brother I had. But after that last summer visit, your life began to change. You got divorced, and we didn't know where you'd moved to. Your ex-wife had custody of my nephew, and although she still writes and sends pictures to our dad, it isn't the same. I just wanted to talk to you - to find out what had gone wrong. How could my brother the Hero have failed at anything? But you didn't call. You didn't write. We didn't have any way to get in touch with you. At first we weren't worried. We knew if something bad happened to you we'd hear about it. We just figured you were taking some time for yourself, time to lick your wounds and come out stronger when you were healed. You knew our address and phone number, so we waited.
And waited.
And kept right on waiting.
Ten years. For a decade we heard nothing from you. Mark got stuck in the middle as we began to ask him questions. What was your deal? Were you mad at us? Had we done something wrong? What? He hated that position of middle man, and so told us little to nothing. We knew you were still in Missouri, we knew you were a police officer, but that was it. I had to resort to the internet to get information. There was a write up of you in the Rolla Times Newspaper - you'd apprehended some criminal, even though you had to chase him on foot and lost a shoe in the process. I left a comment on that story, hoping you'd find it. It said "Hey - that's my brother! Love you Mike!" And at the bottom I posted my email address. I hoped you'd see it and respond, re-open the lines of communication. But you didn't. I saw in the Rolla Town Council Meeting Minutes that your K-9 companion was retiring, and you'd asked to adopt him as your pet. Again, I was so proud of you. You did a good thing! You were still my hero, even years after we'd stopped sledding and building forts.
But then last year, I saw something that hurt me. More than the lack of communication, more than having nothing but table scraps of information I got off the internet. These were pictures on Alec's Myspace page. You know Alec, Mark's best friend? The pictures were of you, Mark and Alec in a bar in Maine. You'd been to Maine, and you hadn't called. Mark could have called me too, and I was pretty pissed at him as well. But you - you broke my heart. Regardless of what my parents may or may not have done to cause you to leave them, there was no reason to leave me, too. I'm an adult now - we CAN have a relationship. Seeing those pictures really made it clear to me that it wasn't that you couldn't talk to me, get back in touch with me - it was that you didn't want to. Suddenly the picture I have of you in my head, the image of Mike the Hero, warped. Became something different. And I was so angry, so hurt. I didn't understand what I had done to deserve such shitty treatment. If I had deserved it, I would have understood. I know what it's like to hold a grudge. I do. But I didn't do anything to you! I tried so many times to keep you in my life. I sent you an invitation to my high school graduation, my college graduation, my wedding. At every major event in my life, I tried to include you. I put myself out there, made the first move, extended my hand and my heart to my brother. You.
I got nothing in return.
You didn't even RSVP in the negative for those things. You just didn't respond. It wasn't that you couldn't come to Maine - the pictures had proven that you would, could, and DID come to Maine. Just not to see me.
And now, once again, you're in Maine. You have apparently moved here, although I didn't hear that from you. You haven't talked to me yet. I heard that from Mark, who is again playing the middle man. You have seen and talked to my parents at their home. From what I gather, you haven't offered any explanation for your absence or for your reasons for coming back. After all you've done this last decade, I'm guessing that you only reconciled with my parents because Mark told you to do it before he gets married this fall. A wedding you will be in, I'd like to point out (where were you for mine?). Mark doesn't want family drama on his big day, and I don't blame him. I do, however, doubt your motives.
I don't trust you. Not anymore. When I was small, I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth and beyond, trusting that you knew what you were doing and would never cause me harm. I don't know when that changed, but I'm sorry it has. Because Mike the Hero is gone. And no matter what happens from here, I can never have him back. The Mike who exists now is still my brother. I'm not sure what kind of relationship we can have, but (I hope I don't regret this) I am willing to explore our options.
I'm waiting for your call.

Sincerely,
Your Sister



* I realize that today is in fact Wednesday, not Tuesday which is the actual letter day. I apologize for the delay and hope this was a letter worth waiting for.

Monday Again

It's Monday again, and since I don't blog much on the weekends, I thought I'd use today to give you all an update.

1. No books yet. I'm practically foaming at the mouth! I check the mail every day. I hope to get them soon! Once I do, rest assured you will get some mad name-dropping goodness, and maybe even some pics!
2. I did take some pictures this weekend. I hope to post them tonight. Mostly of my knitting, but some of the snow, too. It has finally started to melt. Slowly but surely, it's melting.
3. No news on the Mike front - I know he has my phone number, but if he has called he hasn't left a message. I did NOT go home to my parents' house last weekend, choosing instead to retain my sanity and temper. I know I am better for it. I will perhaps see them this weekend, instead. I'm not sure yet.
4. I'm in the process of revamping my weight loss charts and goals. You'll notice the chart at the bottom of my page has changed - I'm trying to focus more on increasing activity instead of counting calories and such. We'll see how that goes.
5. Bear and I began the arduous process of cleaning out the garage yesterday. Even though it wasn't quite 40 degrees outside, we spent a couple of hours sorting through good stuff and garbage. Tonight I think we are re-arranging furniture in the house. I'm going to try to squeak in spring cleaning where I can.

So that's what's going on in my world. What's going on in yours?

~Amalia~

In case you're wondering...

... I'm doing much better than I was a few days ago. I still don't know what I'm going to do about my brother, what (if anything) I'm going to say. But I am at least back in control of my emotions and almost back to my normally positive self. I was going to go to my parents' house this weekend, but will be staying home with my husband instead. We will cuddle, clean, and maybe make a shopping trip to the "big city." Mostly, we will be "sheltering in place." I have been knitting a lot lately and hope to share some pictures soon. I may even take some more pictures of the snow pack so you may compare them with the last ones I shared. Would you like that?

Also, if I am lucky enough to get the free books I won in a contest sponsored by an exciting new author, I will post pictures and give mad groupie-style love and a shout out to her. I can't WAIT!

I could use a friend right now!!

My parents have a nasty habit of informing me of very important information via email. They don't call when a beloved pet or family member dies... they email. Burglar trying to get in to my grandmother's house? Email. BROTHER WHO HAS NOT SPOKEN TO ME OR OUR FATHER IN MORE THAN A DECADE SHOWS UP AT MY PARENTS' HOUSE UNANNOUNCED... email.

No. Fucking. Way.

My half-brother Mike, who mysteriously and without explanation broke off all contact with me, our father and my mother (his step-mother). I have not seen him or his son Zach in more than ten years. I have not spoken to him, received a card, email, phone call... nothing. This morning when I got to work, there was an email from my mother waiting for me. It said:

"Mike and Zach just walked in."

It was from my father to my mother originally (I got a forward). I had no explanation, no one called me last night to tell me... just an email waiting for me to get to eventually.

I am ... I don't know how I am, really. I want to cry, I'm shaking with the anger I've felt towards my brother for over a decade, I want to talk to him, I don't want to talk to him, I'm hurt, I'm lost... I'm shaken. I don't really know what to think, what to do. I have wanted my family together for so long. Family is supposed to stick together. No matter what. I have felt personally rejected by his treatment of me (and honestly, I don't think he cut off contact with us because of ME. So why couldn't have have sent an email once in a while? He could have had my contact information any time he wanted from another brother, one we share and both talk to). I invited him to my high school graduation, my college graduation, my wedding... he never even contacted me to say he wouldn't come. He has lived for many years in Missouri, and never called whenever he came to Maine.
I am crying, shaking, a mess. and I have a class to teach in ten minutes. Damn you, Mike. Damn you for putting me, us, through all of this! What did I ever do to you that was worth causing all of this pain?

I have no idea what happens now. I know I don't want to scare him off again. Not now, when he's back after so long. But I don't know if I can forgive him, either.

A email from my Daddy (true story)

When I got to school on Monday, I had the following email from Daddy. I only edited the spelling enough for you to read it - the rest I left as is. This is the true story of what happened at my parents' house last weekend. I should tell you before you read that Baxter is my mom's dog (a Chesapeake Bay Retriever), and my grammie (Mother in the email) lives next door. Debbie is my mom. Oh, and for those who don't know, the .357 is a handgun that my father keeps in his nightstand. Honest. Oh, and one more thing - My grandmother is almost 93, and even on the best of days is a little disoriented.

RE: BAD MAN AT MOTHER'S
to: Amalia
from: Daddy

I CAME HOME from work as usual Friday night took the dogs out and went to bed!!! Later Baxter tried to get out of his kennel and was having a bad time so I got up to see what his problem was.. I looked out the little bathroom window to see a person going around the trailer!!! he went up the path to mother's so I told Debbie to call 911 and loaded the .357!!! as I was putting my boots on the garage lights came on at mother's followed by the lights at the door... nobody messes with my mother. I out the back door and headed over as I walked down the hill I couldn't see anyone and was looking around when I saw the dome light on in the GMC and the door open!!! as I got next to the tree he started to exit the truck so I fired a shot just over his head to get his attention!!! I told him to lay on the ground or he would be dead... he slowly got down on the ground and started talking to me BUT I did not have my hearing aids in so I couldn't tell what he was saying so I yelled at him to shut up.. at that time I did not know mother was on the phone with the police but knew Debbie was calling so figured they would show up before long!!! when they came in the yard I stepped away from the tree so they could see me and pointed at him the cops were also talking to me BUT I couldn't here them so I yelled at them that I couldn't hear them a put the .357 on the ground and stepped away from it with my hands in plain sight so they wouldn't shoot me... as soon as they got handcuffs on him I told them I was going in the house to see mother SHE WAS UPSET BUT FINE. he had banged on the door and scared her but she pushed the automatic dial button for 911 and was talking to the dispatcher... she was very shaky but calmed down after the police talked to her she is back in bed but I don't know if she will sleep THANK GOD FOR DOGS AND GUNS
ME

In which we do not add to Amalia's night fears, thereby making it impossible for her to sleep, and by extension, you can't, either.

"If you hear anything weird tonight, wake me up, okay? DiShawn drove by three times tonight really slowly, and he knows how much money in guns I have in the house. That's why I'm taking this one upstairs tonight." He pointed to a handgun in its case.

Great. just frickin' great. I've mentioned before how I'm terrified of the dark, but now I actually have someone solid to fear. And that person wants my husband's guns?! Holy, friggin' crap! Not good. not good at all.
About four o'clock this morning, I heard a thud, followed by two more. Not the furnace, not the cats wrestling... I wasn't sure what it was. Remembering Bear's caution, I put my hand on his shoulder and woke him up. "Honey, I just heard three bangs. It sounded like someone kicking the front door, or maybe trying to get into the garage." Bear, groggy with sleep, listened. He didn't hear anything. A good sport, though, he grabbed the handgun and went downstairs in the dark. He can see in the dark better than anyone I know.
There was no one there.
After a few minutes, he came back upstairs, unloaded the gun and got back into bed. "Sorry, Hon. I really did hear something. And you told me to tell you if I heard anything."
He sighed. "I know I did. go back to sleep."
Easier said than done. We both laid in the dark for over an hour, trying to get back to sleep. It was much harder than I thought - I kept imagining scenes where DiShawn or someone else would break in, and how Bear and I would react. I came to the unflattering conclusion that I would probably run away and hide and let my husband take care of it. Honestly. It wasn't a flattering realization.
At about five o'clock, I heard the banging noise again. Thankfully, Bear heard it too. "Was that the noise you heard?" he asked. I nodded. "Four times this time."
Again, he went downstairs, and again he didn't find anything. He looked outside, checked all the doors... nothing. As he was climbing the stairs again, the sound happened again. "Was that what you heard?" He asked.
"Yes! That's it!" I said.
He threw me a disgusted look. "It's the cats, hon, digging at their litter box." Zedd, the giantest of all cats, picks up the litter box and throws it around instead of just digging in the litter itself.
"Oh." I said. "Sorry."
As we left the house this morning, locking the door for the first time ever, I looked towards Bear's car. "Your door's not shut tight, Hon. Did someone get into your car?"
"Bear sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry I even said anything. You need to stop worrying!" I looked askance at him. "You told me to tell you, so I did. Don't be mad at me!"
"I'm not mad. But you really need to get control."
He's right. I do. But how? I'm terrified by the possibility of not being safe in my own home, whether the threat is real or imagined. I hate it, but can't seem to change it. Any ideas?

Tuesday is letter day!

Dear L-Unit,
Before you begin reading, you should know that this is a love letter. To most people that would sound weird, but I know that you know what I mean. Most of our friendship - short as it has been thus far - has been a love-fest. It's strange, really, to love a woman as much as I love you. You are quite frankly one of the most impressive people I've ever met. To greet each day with joy as you do, to find such pleasure in the small things, to keep smiling no matter what life throws at you ... well, as I said, it's impressive.
It's been well documented that you are an amazing mom. If, God forbid, I should ever procreate, I'd want you to raise him or her. Mothering comes so naturally to you, as though you were born to it. I'm in awe of how calmly you accept and deal with all the crises you have been handed, and the grace with which you rise above each new setback. C-Unit is thriving because you are her mother. She and N-Dogg are the happy, joyful kids they are because they came from you, and have you in them. They are very lucky.
Maybe it's the maternal aspect of you that first drew me to you. My own mother didn't do nearly the job that you have done already, and so I grew up with a hunger for a true mother, someone who would love me unconditionally, despite my faults (rather than view me with distaste because of them). You do that. I know that no matter how badly I have botched something, or how mad I get at myself, you will still love me. You will stand by me, no matter what happens. That kind of support, the have-my-back mentality you demonstrate means more to me than you know. I hope that some day I will be able to repay this trust.
This letter is already long, so I would like to end by bulleting a list of other things about you that are great:

• You always ask me how I'm doing.
• You show just enough vulnerability so that I know you aren't perfect.
• You wouldn't be as great if you were perfect.
• I swear.
• You tell great stories.
• Your dimple.
  
• Your laugh.
• Your text and voice messages.
• Your children

Finally, thank you for being my friend. I hope that as we grow older, we grow closer, and I find another letter's worth of wonderful things about you.

Sincerely (and with much love),
~Amalia~

And so Ends Resolution 2008... sort of.

The past week or so, I have been frustrated and discouraged by my seemingly endless weight loss journey. Riding the bike every day (which was my new year's resolution) had become a dreaded chore, not the fun challenge it had been when I started out. I am kind of passive-agressive at times, so I started sabotaging myself by eating crap - steak and cheese, grilled ham and cheese on white bread, ice cream, Pepsi, the works. Well, Wednesday night when I got home from job #2, something must have shown on my face to cause my husband to ask, "What's wrong?"
I burst into tears.
Suddenly, it was all too much. Working two jobs and trying to keep the house clean. Washing three loads of laundry but not having time to take them to the laundrymat to be dried, so I had to wash them again when they started to stink. Trying to accomplish every single thing I had to in a day while still trying to eat right and exercise. I was ready to give up, and cried to my husband about how I didn't want to do it anymore.
"Then don't," he said. "Take a break. Give yourself some time."
So I did. I broke my resolution and didn't ride the bike Wednesday night. Instead I showered and went to bed with my husband, who was kind and held me until I fell asleep, even though I might have cried on his shoulder just a bit. In the morning, I called in sick to job #1, and took the day for myself. I dabbled around the house, organized my knitting yarn/projects/supplies that were scattered everywhere, cuddled my cats and generally relaxed.
And I forgave myself.
I told myself that it was okay that I didn't ride the bike, that trying to squeeze in twenty minutes of difficult cardio right before bed didn't help me, and if I hated working out I would quit. I realized that I'm in this to make myself happy and healthy, not fit and miserable.
And you know what?
Last night when I got home from job #2 (which I still had to work but it was okay because it was only four hours), I rode the bike. Not because I had to, but because I WANTED to. Because I hadn't been active much that day and wanted to do something good for my body. For me.
I feel like a million dollars today. Peaceful. Serene. Capable.

and it feels good.

Tuesday is letter day!

I'm starting a new tradition on my blog. Starting today, I am going to write a letter each Tuesday to someone or something I feel needs/deserves it. Most letters will be to people, but some will be to my muffin top, or my house, or something else inanimate. I'm going to try to put up a poll for you to vote on next week's potential letter. Keep your eyes open!

Here is today's letter:

Dear Husband,
Sunday I posted about a frustration I feel often - about people not understanding me, not accepting who I am. It happens a lot more often than I like, and at times it can seem as though everyone is ganging up against me. In these times I know that you've got my back. You may be the only person apart from me that gets me - what makes me tick, what I need, how I think about things. As an example, you wrote this as a comment on my post (your second ever comment):

Never Give Up! Never Surrender! You are who you are. I fell in love with you for being the person who always had her own opinion and stood up for what she believed in.

Thank you for that. Thank you for having my back when no one else did, and for understanding that I needed to hear your support at what was a low moment for me. Your total and complete love for and acceptance of me humbles me and makes me love you all the more. I only wish that I have been as supportive of you in the past as you have of me. I am trying to follow your example more closely. I love you. Thank you.

Yours,
~Amalia~

A conversation

Yesterday my husband and I got into the car and started driving. We ended up going about 200 miles (maybe more) around the state, no destination in mind, just enjoying ourselves and each other. We talked about a lot of things, some big issues, some minor. One of the things we talked about are all the places we want to see - Yosemite, Australia, Novia Scotia (he has been there before, I haven't), and others. And I said, "That's the great thing about us, Hon. We're not having kids, so whenever we want, we can pack up and go. Isn't that great?" He turned and looked at me. "Sure hon." His words kind of fell into the space between us.
"You know," I said, "I don't understand why people don't listen when I say I don't want kids. It makes perfect sense to me. Even my students are confused by it, when they are one of the major reasons for it!"
"Honey, no one understands it. The guys at the mill don't, no one I tell can believe it." Then he shrugged as if to say it was no big deal.

He's right. No one really understands that I don't want children. As in, not ever. It's not something that is going to change, it's not something I'm going to "grow out of." Most people just smile and nod, placating me, waiting for the chance to say "I told you so" when I finally (inevitably in their minds) tell them that I'm pregnant.

Here's a hint: IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! EVER.

As I read this morning's Postsecret, I realized that if I were to write a postcard and send it to Frank, this is what my secret would be:

"No one understands that I don't want children. I find their lack of belief patronizing and disappointing. It's as though they don't see me as I really am, don't accept that that person could really exist. When they do that, it makes me hate them. Just a little."

I don't hold out any realistic hope that anyone will listen to me this time, either. But all I can do is keep saying it and hope that someday, finally, people will believe me and actually accept that this is how I want to live my life. But honestly? I'm not holding my breath.

A poem

Yesterday on my way to Job Number Two,
as I piled myself, my coat, and other things I thought I'd need that evening into my car,
in between settling everything into the appropriate seats and adjusting my own,
just as I was about to shut my door, push into gear, and roar off down the road -

I heard a robin singing.

I couldn't see him (or her),
but guessed she was perched in the honeysuckle tree
out behind the garage.
Or maybe, if it was a he, he had settled himself
on the much-more-manly-woodpile.
Wherever, he (or she) must have seen me,
rushed, hurrying, harried,
And done the one thing that could make me pause,
still,
listening,
and enjoy the sweet moment I was present in.

As the clock silently admonished me to hurry,
and my car's impatient idle intensified
I succumbed to the mechanical and closed my door,
backing down the driveway and away from the song.
I tried to focus on the road in front of me
and all that I had still to do.
But my mind replayed that sweet robin's calling -
looped it
through my thoughts
and around my feelings
until I couldn't but do what the music invited,
and smiled at this,
the first sign
of spring.

Finally

The snow banks at work
There's a car under there!
Can you see the 30 gallon trash can buried by the door?
The snow has drifted up to the roof - you could literally step off the roof into the snow!

Here are the pictures of the snow here in Maine. As I type this, it is raining here, and freezing once it hits the ground (feezing rain). In a few hours it is supposed to turn into sleet (frozen before it hits the ground). All in all, a messy night. Some weathermen are predicting up to two inches of rain - with the ground frozen and covered in four feet of snow, the water has no place to go. It is not going to be a pretty morning!

I haven't forgotten

... about the winter pics. I've had some issues with getting time to take them is all. Hopefully this weekend. I will take some video and try to upload it here to my blog so you can hear my beautiful voice describing what you're seeing. Won't that be a hoot?!

~Amalia~

I'm so conflicted!

I've worn size 12 jeans almost my entire adult life. At times those jeans have been tight, or loose, or somewhere in between, but they've always been 12s. My favorite jeans, my American Eagle jeans, have been with me for about eight years now. Low rise, button fly, bias cut and bootleg, they are in every way perfect. They're like an old friend. Nothing I own makes me feel as good as those jeans. They've lasted longer than every relationship I've ever had. They're a part of me. Of who I am.

Since beginning my weight loss, I've said goodbye to a little over ten pounds. I'm still in my 12s, but they fit better now than they did before. Looser. I have another sixteen pounds to lose (at least). I find that I am having a hard time contemplating that even after losing that weight that I will be anything other than a size 12. The concept of losing a pants size is foreign to me. Me? I want to ask. Are you sure? Logically I know it could happen. Practically, though, my mind just won't wrap around the idea. It makes me wonder if my weight loss has stalled because on some level, I'm not ready to say goodbye to my 12s. Those jeans are part of my identity. I'm 5'9", and a size 12. The second seems as unchangeable as the first. So what do I do? How do I let that part of me go, allow myself to change what seems a fundamental aspect of my self-image? I'm really struggling with this. I love those jeans - I don't want to say goodbye to them! It isn't as though I can buy smaller pairs of the same jeans (they don't make them in that style anymore). What do I do? Help!

I'm in an interesting mood today. On the one hand, I am so sore. My whole body hurts from working all weekend (I mopped the whole store Saturday, and half of it on Sunday) and pushing myself hard on the bike. I can feel all of my individual parts, and not in a good way. Today is day eight of working at least one job, and I don't have another day completely off in sight. I can only hope that my body will eventually reward me for my hard work.
On the other hand, I am so looking forward to my afternoon! First, I'm off to take pictures of our snow pack and maybe even a video to show Jenny and some others just how much snow we have right now. I can say truthfully that this is the most snow I've seen at any one time in my entire life. It's a lot of snow! Further, after working at Rite Aid all weekend I finally have a night off to spend with my wonderful husband. I fell like I haven't had much of an opportunity to see him lately, and we're both looking forward to some bonding time. Finally, the temperatures today are supposed to be in the mid-thirties which is a bit of a heat wave for us. Not much makes me happier than the first above freezing day of the year!
Today is the third day of March's Month of Muscle-building, and so far I've managed to burn my required 500 calories on the bike. It has been a challenge (especially last night) but I'm doing it. Playing music helped me get the biking done in record time (in under twenty-one minutes, if you must know). I have really felt the need to stretch the past few days, so I'm hoping to try out this yoga routine when I get home. I am also going to lift weights to start my week off right. I'm very serious about reaching my March goals so that I can get down to 160. I want to be able to welcome spring (and more revealing clothing) with glee instead of guilt.

March Goals

Happy Leap Day! I've always enjoyed Leap Day. It's always seemed to me that it's a day we give back to the planet, an apology for artificially lengthening each day by three minutes (it actually takes the Earth 23:57 to rotate one full turn). It feels nice to know that after today, we (us and the planet) will once again be all caught up.
After watching the scale go nowhere for about nine days now, I decided to set some new goals for March. Not rewards goals, but activity goals. I have been lacking in motivation lately, and I need to shake things up, get the scale moving again. Here are my March goals:

• Burn 500 calories on the recumbent bike every day (still pedaling for at least twenty minutes).
• Use free weights three times a week - three sets of ten reps each.
• Yoga or yoga/pilates routine once a week.

I'm also going to try to work harder to keep my food journal up to date. I am usually good until dinner, then I stop. I think I'm afraid to see the numbers all added up. I've been making some pretty poor food choices lately. For some reason, my chocolate craving is back in a BIG way. Big in a king-size-Mounds-and-Hershey-bars way.

March is a long month, with 31 days. My goal is to weigh no more than 160.0 by the 31st. That is 6.4 pounds in about four and a half weeks. I can do this. I know I can. I just need to want it as badly as I did the last ten pound loss. I'm got going to get the tanning package reward until I reach this goal, I've decided. Tanned, tone, and 160 is going to look sooo good!

Please, if you can, help me by asking me how I'm doing on my goals this coming month. Just knowing I am accountable to you will help me stay on task.

Thigh Dimples

I go to bed after my husband does, as I take about three times longer than he does in the shower. When I finally got upstairs, he was reading a book. I asked him to put the book down. "Look honey, I have thigh dimples!" Instead of looking at my thighs, he looked me in the face. "You have what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you want me to look at that?"
"Because," I replied, "These aren't fat dimples - they're muscle dimples!" I pointed to two spots on either side of my knee and just above the kneecap. "Look!" He looked at them while I flexed several times with each leg. "Yep, I guess you do. Good job, Honey. Now can I go back to my book?" I nodded, still grinning and flexing as I walked over to my side of the bed.

I have muscles.

That people other than me can actually see.

Yess!

This morning, still groggy from sleep, I stepped on the scale in the bathroom. As tired as I was, it took a second for the number on the scale to make sense to me. I blinked at it, for a moment thinking that I'd backtracked all the way back to where I'd begun. But the scale didn't say 175.4, it said 165.4!!! I quickly backed off the scale, worried that if I stood there any longer, the number would change, a cruel joke by my scale. When the digital screen went dark, I tentatively tapped it with my toe to turn it on again. When it said 0.0, I stepped back on.

The number appeared again. 165.4.

The sun broke through the clouds right then, sunshine streaming into the bathroom. Or maybe the world just appeared brighter to me, at that moment, when I realized - I've lost TEN POUNDS. Ten pounds! Double digits! It seems a little unreal. Just two days ago the scale was up around 168, making me think my loss was over, that I was gaining back all that weight. But two days after resuming tracking my meals, those two phantom pounds plus another half-pound are gone. I am still shocked, but I'm also thrilled. I've surpassed all of the timelines I had set for myself, have done better than I ever thought I would. And you know what? It's working. I know that as I get closer to my goal, it will get more difficult to keep losing. I'm prepared for that. I have a plan. For now, I'm excited to be where I am. I feel like Dan Marino in those NutriSystem ads - "Losing never felt so good!"

You're right Dan - it feels awesome.

I wanted ...

... to be able to tell you, a week after my last post, that I'd lost that last pound I wanted for the month.

... to be able to enjoy reaching double-digit weight loss success.

... to know that I could continue to lose weight without having to track every single calorie that I eat.

I failed.

In six days of not tracking, I've put on TWO POUNDS. I weighed in this morning at 168.2. I'm disgusted with myself, angry that my body reacts so quickly to an increase in calories, and pissed that I got so close just to have that ten pound goal snatched away. And I can't even be mad at the person who snatched it, because that person is ME! Well, okay, I can be mad at myself, and I am, but it would be easier if I had someone else to blame.
A book I read several years ago said, "focus on the solution, not the problem." So today, that's what I'm trying to do. I'm back to tracking my calories. I'm back to thinking very carefully before I eat something. I'm upping my exercise amounts and intensity. I'm going to lose those two pounds again, plus that third pound I wanted, by the end of the month. You'll see. And so will I. Thank you all for your kinds words of support on my last post! I am not going to let this minor setback get me down. I. Am. Going. To. Lose. This. Weight.

~Amalia~

How I'm doing

This morning I had to walk to the office to ask the secretary a question. When she looked up and saw me standing at her desk, she said, "Hey, you look great! Have you lost weight?" She's the FIRST person to notice a difference in the way I look without being told first (by me) that I have lost nine pounds.

Nine pounds.

This morning I officially weigh less than I did when I met my husband more than two years ago. Then I was 167.8. Today I weigh 167.0. I'm thrilled, I'm in shock, I'm... overcome with feelings I can't quite name. Most of all, I keep thinking, I can't believe it's working. I can't believe I'm actually losing this weight! It seems unbelievable that this time it's working for me, when all other times I failed. I catch myself thinking things like, "now when I have an off day, I will still be under 170!" and, "167.0 is ALMOST 166! Can you believe 166?! That's almost in the 150s!!" I know that I still have a long row to hoe. I'm ready for that. But at the same time, I am so thrilled that I have already begun reaping what I've sown (to continue the metaphor). Nine pounds! Wow.

I have been thinking about revamping me weight loss goals, because I started out with four, and met three of them in the same month (under 170, BMI of 24.9 or less, weight I was when I met my husband). I'm still getting the shirt, but I'm going to wait a while on that. I can get it any time now, so I will leave it for a day when I need the pick-me-up. Here are my new goals:

1. Husband-meeting weight: Pedicure with my friend L- Unit (this is tentatively scheduled for next week).

2. Under 165: tanning package

3. Under 160: One hour of electrolysis

4. Under 155: New bathing suit (bikini!!)

I hope to get a ten pound weight loss total by the end of February. That's only one more pound! If I get that, I will shift my hopes to become 165 or less by the end of the month.

I'm also going to cease tracking my calories on the weekend and see how I do. It's difficult to track them anyway due to my busy schedule, so we will see how I do "on my own," so to speak.

Next week is vacation week for me. I will be working my second job, but I don't predict to be getting more than thirty hours, which leaves me with a lot of free time. I would like to be able to say that I do more than just biking during that time - maybe a walk, my yoga DVD... something. I do NOT want to spend that time eating and laying on the couch! L-Unit, I'm looking to you to keep me busy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't remember if I mentioned it, but my wonderful husband has decided to lose weight, too! He's cutting back on portions, riding the bike, and making his lunch the night before instead of buying it in town. Since the Superbowl, he's lost eleven pounds! Good work Bear! I'm so proud of him. Now, if I could just get the cat to lose some weight....

Thoughts I had while in detention

Well, doing detention duty, anyway.

I'm in the beginning stages of my poetry unit with my sophomores right now. Of all my units, my poetry unit is my best and most loved. I started it two weeks early this year because I needed a pick up to get me through these last two months (or so) of winter. I love seeing what the students write, and what I write along with them. Many of the things I write are continuations of things I have started once, but never completed. I can see my writing with new eyes because it has been a year (at least) since I've seen some of these things, and I can begin the work of crafting anew. Below I've posted some "waifs and strays" as Charles de Lint would call them, things I've begun before and will work on again now. Please feel free to provide whatever feedback you can on these poemlets, as I call them. I'm interested to see what you think! If you can't think of anything to write about my poemlets, consider posting some of your own. Do you have a phrase, sentence, line, or stanza that sits unused, dusty, in your mind or an old notebook? Take it out, dust it off, and post it here! All are welcome. :)

#1
The pages of her journal
mark where she's been.
Tear-soaked and travel-stained,
The binding worn thin.

#2
A cacophony overhead
a pair of eighths in front
a trill from behind
an inquisitive quarter
plays a bar or two.

#3
Quiet spaces became a part of this woman,
the moist closeness of mingled breaths
and arms that lifted, instead of let down.
The woman became confidence, worthiness, too
and laughter - core deep and cobalt blue,

Picture this

I'm sitting in front of my computer, logging my final calories in for the day. I haven't eaten in a few hours, and I'm vaguely hungry. I have about four hundred calories still available to eat. What should I have? I ask myself. Popcorn? Too smelly. A sandwich? Too much work. Chocolate? Not filling enough. A granola bar? Too plain. Looking at my calorie log, I realize I've only had one serving of fruit - the glass of orange juice I had for breakfast. If only there was a way to eat more fruit, I think. Then, it's as if a light bulb goes on in my head. A BANANA! I can eat a banana! I step into the kitchen, grab one of the yellow miracle fruits off the counter, peel it and dig in. It is just the correct amount of ripeness and consistency, and I enjoy it. The banana is not smelly, doesn't require much work once I get the peel open, and is filling without being plain. I happily plug the fruit into my calorie journal and realize I'm still under my calories for the day, AND I've added much needed potassium to the muscles that have just worked hard pedaling the bike.
Sometimes I am amazed how such moments of perfection can sneak up on me. Why didn't I think of this before? I don't know. I'm glad I did, finally, and my body is glad, too - I'm still under 170. If I stay that way for three more mornings, that "Seriously" t-shirt is MINE.

~Amalia~

"Let it go, start over, and kick ass"

L-Unit said that to me yesterday after reading my posts. It was what I needed to hear. It helped me see that I needed to stop beating myself up and start moving forward. So after a day of tears and disappointment, I got on my bike and pedaled. I pushed myself harder than I have before. It paid off. When I was finished, I had burned 35 more calories than I had before and boosted my mood completely. I moved from feeling defeated to feeling victorious. I knew I'd be sore the next day (and I am, but not terribly), but it was so worth it to feel good at the end of the day. To feel accomplished - to feel as though the day was not a total loss after all. I'm beginning to realize that exercising is a type of drug - it makes you want more. I can't wait until it warms up here in Maine and I can begin to run.

From my other blog...

Sometimes I don't realize how eating affects my mood. At least, not until it happens. I ate well all last week, got down under 170 for the first time in two years, felt awesome. Felt like this was a battle I could win, WAS winning. Then I went to my parents' house overnight. Stopped tracking. Stopped fighting. Ate like a madwoman. We went to my favorite restaurant. I didn't have any sides or salad with my bacon and cheddar covered baked haddock, so I could save room for dessert - peanut butter mousse pie with an oreo cookie crust. It was heaven. I shared as little as possible with my husband. Scarfed almost the whole piece. Weighed myself this morning - up almost two pounds from Saturday morning. Pissed. Disgruntled. Crushed with twin weights of dissapointment and irritation at myself. Was the pie worth it? No. Did I learn my lesson? In all honesty, probably not.

I'm back on the wagon again, and I am determined to be back under 170 soon. But I'm feel like a fox who's shewed off her own foot to escape from a trap only to realize that now I can't walk. Futility. Anger. Disgust. That's what I'm feeling this morning. I sabotaged myself. No one to blame but me.

Another long week

I have so much more energy than I did last year, but working two or three jobs is enough to drain even the most energetic girl. I worked Wednesday through Saturday at Rite Aid and school, although I did call in sick to school on Friday. I needed the day off. I got some chores done and spent some time reading, but most of all I rested. Saturday after working all day at Rite Aid, we went south to my parents' house in Gardiner so we could go to the Augusta Home Show on Sunday. I hate sleeping at my parents' house, because ... well, because I can't. Sleep that is. We had to put the couch bed mattress on the floor because the couch frame is so uncomfortable. That wasn't too bad, but at four o'clock in the morning, my parents' stupid dogs started whining and barking. When two Chesapeake Bay Retrievers start that, there's no sleep to be had. So I got about four hours of sleep that night. Last night we were home, but the Superbowl was on and Bear's team was playing - there was no going to bed until that was over (around ten), and I had showered, etc. I can get by on one night of little sleep, but I'm getting too old to do it on two. I'm not in a great mood today - I think I will go to bed early tonight.

My adult ed class is on again for tonight - we'll have to see if anyone shows up this time, since they didn't last time. I still want to do is, but most of the excitement has worn off. I have to work Tuesday through Saturday this week at Rite Aid, so tonight will be the only night I'm home before eight p.m..

I'm just so frigging tired.

Ten more school days until February vacation. I don't know if I can make it.


In case you didn't notice, I updated my favorite blogs list. I took out some I don't visit as often and added a few I think you might enjoy. Please take some time and visit, won't you?
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Oh, I almost forgot - guess what bomb my mom dropped into conversation this weekend?! My brother, known here as the Golden Child, has apparently decided that if he and his wife die in the next eighteen years, I am to become legal guardian of their son (known here as T-Rex). !!! I almost choked on my own spit when I heard that. Not only am I a TERRIBLE choice to be anyone's legal guardian, but they didn't even tell me that! I had NO IDEA they were thinking about doing this. This is a colossal mistake. I have yet to email him and tell him this, but it's on the list of things to do today. Seriously - who would think about give ME their child to raise?!? Ack! I get sweaty just thinking about it. What do you think?

3BT Thursday

1. I got my Dunkin Donuts gift card this morning, my reward for burning more than four hundred calories on the my recumbent bike seven days in a row. The first sip of coffee is warm and flavorful. I have mine with caramel syrup added to sweeten it even more than the Splenda I have in it.

2. The peace that comes with knowing I can pay my bills comfortably this month. It hasn't always been that way, and the change is nice.

3. When I get to my car at the end of a shift at Rite Aid, I see a message written in lip balm on my driver's side window: "I <3 U" from my friend L-Unit. I am warmed and touched by her thoughtfulness.

You Probably Want To Know How It Went

Well, it didn't. My class, that is. I worked on a syllabus and power point presentation all weekend. I spent the hour after school furiously getting things together, nervous but excited. No one showed up. And I mean NO ONE. As each teacher left school for the day, they all stopped by my room. "What are you still doing here?" They asked. I had to explain to them that I was teaching a class, only my students weren't there yet. But they never showed up. I am disappointed, confused, and if I'm honest with myself, more than a little heartbroken. I was so looking forward to this class! Not just for the money (which would be half of the down payment on a new vehicle), but for the joy of teaching what I want, how I want. It isn't often that I get to do that any more.
So where do I go from here? I'm not really sure. Part of me is still hoping that this class will happen. Part of me is disaffected with teaching entirely. I'm sure I'll snap out of it eventually. The question is in which direction?

This Week

There is so much going on this week! I guess this post is a sort of continuation of the last one. Today I teach my first Adult Ed class from 3-6pm. I'm excited about it, but nervous, too - three hours is a long time! I am still working on my course syllabus and welcome presentation, but I should have those done during regular school hours today.
I have Tuesday off this week - I work at Rite Aid Wednesday through Saturday. Tuesday Bear and I are going to visit his sisters for dinner. I enjoy his sisters, so this should be a good time. I am going to try to ride the bike before we go, so that I don't have to ride it after. I also will probably make Bear's brother-in-law his favorite cookies for dessert.
As I already said, I work the rest of the week at Rite Aid. Saturday night is a night for catching up on chores, as well as for spending time with my darling husband. The past couple of weeks I feel like I've hardly seen Bear at all. We did have the entire weekend off together, though, and that was really awesome. We got a ton of stuff done around the house (including cleaning the upstairs bathroom, which hasn't been usable in over two years!). We also had a very frank and open discussion of our finances, which I think helped us both see where we are and where we need to go. We did our taxes this weekend and have already discussed where we'll be spending our refund.
If I'm not working this coming Sunday, Bear and I are heading down to Augusta to the Home Show. We'd like to build a pro-fab home when we finally can afford a new place. They've come a long way in the past ten years or so, and are really nice. They rent out the civic center and build homes right inside! It's pretty cool. My parents go every year, and I'd like to go with them.
There is, of course, the possibility that I will have to work Sunday night, which would mean no seeing my parents AND missing the Superbowl (or at least the start of it). I will be so disappointed if this happens! I love football, and aside from the ProBowl, this is the last chance I will have to see any football until September. I'm kind of sad about it.
Finally, my friend L-Unit and I haven't had any good bonding time at all lately. Her children are sick and we run pretty opposite schedules during the week. She wants us to go get pedicures soon, and I'd love to - I just don't know when that's going to be. I'm hoping within the next couple of weeks - I miss my L-Unit! I even miss her children C-unit and N-Dogg, too... just don't tell her I said so. ;)
~Amalia~

My cup runneth over

Do you ever wonder if you have too much on your plate? Too many balls in the air? Too many things that you must commit time and energy to? Lately I've been wondering if this description fits me.
First of all, I am starting my third job next week. I am teaching an adult ed class on Mondays from 3-6pm. It's a writing class, and I'm really excited about it. For the first time in a long time I will be able to teach what I want, how I want, and no one is mandating that I do things their way instead. I really feel that I need this class to rejuvenate my love of teaching. No Child Left Behind and school politics are really killing my joy. Of course, taking this job (which pays $1,000 upon completion of the course) means I can't work on Mondays at Rite Aid any more. I'm still going to get twenty hours a week there, though, so I will be home even less often than I am now. The only unscheduled night I had this week was Wednesday, and I had to go to Bangor for groceries so I didn't get home until after nine pm. My day job (teaching) isn't all that strenuous, but it takes up a lot of hours and is very far from home.

Second, I am still working on my New Year's resolution - to bike twenty minutes on my stationary bike every day in 2008. If I don't get home until after nine, well, I still have to do it. I am not sorry I decided to do this, but after a long day I don't approach it with the enthusiasm I might otherwise. In addition to my resolution (or perhaps the cause of it), I'm trying to lose weight. almost thirty pounds, actually. This is taking a gigantic effort on my part, and is waaaaay more work than I'd anticipated. Again, I'm not sorry I decided to do this, but it's another thing on my "plate" (no pun intended).

Finally, Bear and I would like to continue our forays into the home-improvement area. We have many things we still need to do before we can insure the house or even have company. It will take a lot of planning and work to get this done, and honestly, I'm not sure where I'll find the time.

As I proofread this post, I'm struck by how whiney I sound. I apologize for that; it wasn't my intent. I guess I just wonder, if I keep adding things to my life, what will have to go? My husband will tell you that I haven't been much fun lately. He's probably tight, I haven't. but how can I be when my mind is so full of everything that has to get done?

It Takes Two, Baby

Last night I got home from work tired and hungry. My kitten Briggs was home from the vet's office where she was spayed and her thumbs declawed (kind of like dew claws, but she had two on each foot). I was looking after her, trying to eat my after-work snack of multi-grain Tostitos and maragrita's salsa, and spend some time with my husband. I was also watching this sick-but-riveting show on a man who had warts so bad he looked like he was part tree (waste products of the warts created root-like structures on his hands and feet). About nine o'clock, I realized I still had to ride the bike. I still had some chores to do and had to give the cat her meds, too. My other cat got new meds also and I had to medicate him. I turned doleful eyes on my husband. "Do I really have to ride the bike, hon? Can't I just skip one night?" Bear, wonderful husband that he is, said, "Nope. you have to get on that bike. You made the commitment - now do it." So I did, grumbling and complaining. It was made worse three minutes in by his pronouncement that he was going to go to bed. He must have seen my pained expression and thought I'd skip out early, because he sat at the desk in the office and talked with me while I pedaled. He talked with me until I got over my grumpiness at having to bike so late at night and my anger at myself for making such a stupid resolution. When I was done, and we were tucked warmly into bed, I looked at him. "Thank you for making me ride the bike, Babe," I said. "I really needed the motivation." "No problem," he replied. "That's what I'm here for."

He's right. I need him to help me. I need him to be my motivator, to push me when I wouldn't push myself. If it were just up to me, I would have quit a week ago and still be railing at myself for not being able to lose any weight. Thanks to him and my friend L-Unit, I've lost two pounds. That doesn't seem like a lot (and you're right, it isn't), but I didn't do it by luck - I did it through hard work. Okay, not as hard as I could have been, but I'm getting better! I'm realizing that I am often my own worst enemy when it comes to losing weight. Why is that? Why do I sabotage myself? One day I ate almost 3,000 calories for no good reason! I've been thinking about this for a while, and I am beginning to think that I sabotage myself so that if I fail, it's not because I am physically unable to do it, but that life got in the way. It's a convenient excuse. This time, I don't have any excuse - I have Bear and L-Unit to keep me honest. Thank you both!

As many of you know, I live in the Central Maine Woods, home of trees, mountains (I drive past the end of the Appalachian Trail every day), and more trees. We have had over six feet of snow fall so far this winter, although some has melted. In this weather, I hate going outside. This morning it was -5 degrees. As in five degrees below zero. And that's not counting the wind chill. I am increasingly frustrated by this, because the more I turn to healthy living, the more I want to become a runner. I want to run for many reasons - exercise, of course, but also because I want to connect to my body, to feel the earth under my feet and the wind in my hair. I have this image of myself as a runner, hair in a sloppy ponytail, earphones in my ear, my feet moving in rhythm to whatever it is I'm listening to. I look good - lean, powerful. I know where I want to run - there's a nature trail near my house that follows a river tributary. It's about six miles long, and I'd like to be able to run the whole thing by the end of the summer. Of course, that's what's frustrating me - I can't run in Maine this time of year! Maybe I could in a bigger city where the sidewalks and roads are plowed clean, but where I am now, there is nothing but snow and slop as far as the eye can see. Not to mention how cold it is. I worry that if I don't begin down this path soon, this desire I have to be a runner will desert me, and I will be left with a pleasant image that slowly fades from memory, still running. Still powerful.

Today I Feel Like Listing

I'm in a list-making kind of mood today, so I thought I would post some lists for you. The first list is made up of things I do that I refuse to feel guilty about:

• I only look at myself naked in one mirror. It's the medicine cabinet mirror, and if I stand right where the two mirrors meet (each half is a sliding door), it magically thins me. When I stand there, I am miraculously thin. I love it.
• I sing in my car - loudly. I'm secretly convinced that I will be discovered at a stop light someday, thus starting my singing career. Sometimes I even make faces as I sing.
  
• Whenever possible, I take the best of whatever I'm offered - the biggest piece of cake, the center brownie, the prettiest pencil.
  
• I don't like or watch American Idol, Survivor, or the Oprah Winfrey Show.
• I can't respect any adult who wears Mickey Mouse, Winnie-the-Pooh, or Tweety clothing.
  

Or course, the sister to this list are things that I DO feel guilty about:

• I love my cat more than I love my mother.
• I don't ever write to my grandmother, and sometimes when I come home to my parents' house, I don't go next door to see her.
• I have taught books to my students that I haven't read (The Red Badge of Courage was one)
• I know what I'd write to Postsecret, but I'm afraid if I do I'd be discovered.
• I was thrilled when I learned I wouldn't be the fattest bridesmaid at my brother's wedding.

Finally, I thought I'd leave you with a list of things I wonder about:

• Who wrote the first chain letter? Did people send it on?
• If you pee in a dream, do you pee in real life?
• Are Jessica Simpson and George Bush representative of all people from Texas? They can't all be that stupid, can they? Is it because Texas is the textbook capital of the world? Can they even read textbooks?
• Do calories in corn count if the kernels pass through undigested?
• Why do I love applesauce, apple pie, and apple juice, but hate apples?

Learning as I Go

Yesterday, as I was standing behind the counter of my second job (a cashier at a local drug store), staring at shelf after shelf of Valentine's Day candy, I realized something. I'm different than I used to be. Before I made the commitment to losing the weight and bettering my life, I would have stalked the chocolate candy aisles like a mountain lion after a rabbit. I'd have looked for the piece or pieces that would have best satisfied my chocolate craving. The new Reese's Peanut Butter Hearts would have called my name, begging me to pounce and eat them.

But as I looked at the beautifully displayed chocolate, I realized that I didn't want it. As in, didn't have a craving. I knew it would taste good, but it just didn't appeal to me. I would rather be healthy than eat what is undeniably sweet-tasting junk. This is a first for me! Usually a meal isn't over until I've had a serving (or four) of chocolate.

I realize that I'm only two weeks into my new lifestyle, but already I feel different. The things that were so important to me before aren't important any more. I can't see a difference, but I'm convinced it's there. For the first time in my life I'm moving in concert with my body instead of against it.

And it feels really good.

You know what I think?

I think that dieting makes people boring, and that's why people quit. Seriously - it seems like that's all I've talked about lately - how many calories I have eaten, what exercise I need to do to burn off said calories... blah blah blah. So in honor of that, I am going to post something witty and wonderful. Right now. Really.

...


You see? I can't. I've become so focused on myself that I'm unable to make conversation. This sucks! All my updates (like an entire pound lost, thank you very much!) revolve around my weight loss. Like I'm some kind of planetary body with satellites of info making lazy orbits around my body. Ugh. That's a comparison I could have done without.

I could tell you about the books I've been reading. A few new ones, a few old favorites, a few I just couldn't finish. Here's what's been on my nightstand recently:

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. The first part of the book was great - a lot of his family's history, the cause of and tracing of a genetic defect in his family. I lost interest halfway through, though and stopped reading before he began talking about his own condition (hermaphroditism). It's written well, though, and you are made to think that the author is the narrator and it is a true story. As far as I know, it isn't.

Jemima J by Jane Green. A must read for anyone trying to lose weight. It's motivating, funny, and makes you feel like if Jemima can do it, you can do it. Jane Green also nails the thoughts of "women of size." Read it - you'll love it.

Never Have Your Dog Stuffed by Alan Alda. I've read about seven pages so far. It's mildly interesting (he grew up in his father's burlesque show... interesting!), but it doesn't flow chronologically and that bugs me. I'm not sure how much further I will go with it.

Queen of Babble by Meg Cabot. I LOVE Meg Cabot. She's funny, clever, and writes a great story. This book is great so far (I'm about halfway through it), but the narrator sounds really young to me - not like a college graduate at all.

That's all I have for you right now. Wasn't that interesting, witty, and fun? No? Hmmm. Any suggestions? What do you want to hear about?

~Amalia~

A lesson in frustration

I stepped on the scales this morning - 176.2. I officially weigh more now than I did when I began my body makeover eight days ago. What the Hell?! I'm so frustrated. I know why the weight went up - I overdid my eating yesterday. By a lot. I ate my Outback leftovers from the weekend and THEN went out to eat last night at 99 Restaurant and pub. I did pick a healthier choice than most (a turkey panini with spinach and avacado). I was all proud of myself until I got home and calculated the day's calories and realized it totaled almost 3,000. Ugh. So close, then so far away again.

So where do I go from here? What do I do to get back on track? I joined www.my-calorie-counter.com, a calorie tracking website that will help me calculate what I'm eating (and how much), as well as my water intake and activity levels. It's pretty cool, actually, and only costs five dollars a month. I'll let you know how it goes.

I also need to learn to satisfy my hunger in healthier ways. I ate the leftovers last night not because I really wanted chicken and fries, but because I didn't want to go through the effort of making anything. I am going to have to learn to get past that (or learn not to put high-calorie leftovers in my fridge ready to re-heat).

The one thing I have gotten right so far is my daily bike ride. My resolution for 2008 was 20 minutes of pedaling my stationary bike every day all year (366 days). Yesterday made eight days in a row (I started 12.31.07). I haven't wanted to most days, some days it has been painful, and I definitely don't increase my time/calories burned/level every time, but at least I'm on there. If I can find the motivation, tonight is also a night for my yoga DVD. I also have a ton of chores to do. Chores burn calories, right?

I guess today I'm struggling not to be discouraged. I'm trying to remember that it isn't about what I did wrong yesterday, but what I can do right today. I sure could use some outside encouragement, though... can you help me?

~Amalia~

a 3BT of the weekend

1. Finally being added to the email list of bridesmaid's for my brother's wedding. I am the fifth of five bridesmaids, and being a bridesmaid is a first for me. All of the ladies are sweet, articulate, intelligent, and funny. We are all over the country, but connect daily via email. It feels great to be included. I'm to try on bridesmaid dresses this weekend if possible.

2. Bear and I went to Portland this weekend to spend my Christmas gift cards. I am the proud owner of new sneakers, two pairs of jeans, a pair of pants, two knit shirts, a pullover hoodie, six pairs of underwear, and one bra. Bear's attitude was awesome - he was so patient! We ate an amazing meal (cheese fries and Alice Springs chicken!), and enjoyed our hotel room. All in all, it was another awesome weekend with my Bear.

3. Despite eating my way through the weekend (I didn't count calories, per L-Unit's instructions), I only put on 2/10s of a pound. I managed to bike both the day I left home and the day I came back. It felt awesome to keep that commitment to myself. I'm back on the wagon as of yesterday, and it was easier than I thought it would be. I am actually looking forward to tomorrow's weigh in.

~Amalia~

Gah!

Last night I did my twenty minutes of biking, in between folding laundry and putting away Christmas decorations. I'd carefully counted my calories all day and even took the fit test on womenshealthmag.com. When I went to bed, I felt happy. In fact, I was smiling and giggly when I went to bed. Finally, I thought, I'm starting to lose the weight. My inspiration must have been catching, because Bear rode the bike for ten minutes and went downstairs to his punching bag, too. It's the first time I've seem him exercise in over a year. I just remember thinking that I am going about it right this time - I'm not fobidding any specific foods, I'm concentrating on changing the way I eat (and how much), as well as trying to help myself by increasing my physical activity level. Surely I would be rewarded for that, right?

Nope. At least, not yet.

While my friend L-Unit lost two pound in two days, I actually GAINED half a pound! I couldn't believe it when I weighed myself this morning. I actually got off the scale and looked underneath it for anything it might be sitting on that would give it a false reading. A ha! I said as I retrieved a barett from the floor under the scale. Now I would get my reral weight. The scale (very) quickly flashed the same number on the scale. 176.4. Ugh.

I'm trying really hard not to be discouraged. I new I wasn't going to lose it all immediately, right? Right?! So why am I SO disappointed? Because I was hoping for fast results, actually. I was at least hoping not to have moved UP on the scale. Sigh.

So where do I go from here? Do I stay the course or make some changes? I'm going to stay the course, I think. As soon as I finish this I am going to get on the bike. When I'm done that, I'm going outside to shovel some of the snow we got yesterday (school was cancelled today, as we got about two feet of snow overnight!). I'm going to drink a lot of water and continue to count my calories. I'm going to look for some inspiring stories. I may even do yoga. And when I'm done all that, I'm going to L-Unit's house to become re-inspired. She does that for me, and right now, I need it.

~Amalia~

PS I was told about a website - www.calorieking.com that has an awesome calorie counter - it even had info on my homemade pumpkin butter! Check it out if you get time.

So?

So yesterday was the first day of the new me (I know that today is New Year's Day, but when you've made a decision, why wait to start?). How did I do? Better than I thought I would. It was also SO much tougher than I thought. I'm so accustomed to eating when I'm hungry or when I see something yummy that breaking that cycle was almost physically painful. I had to take my lunch at Rite Aid almost two hours early so that I didn't just grab some snacks off the shelf and eat them. what I really couldn't get over was how hungry I was, and it seemed that because I had to watch what I ate, I was going to be stuck in Hungersville forever. It sucked. It may also be part of the reason I already overate at breakfast, chomping down almost half of my caloric intake. I'll get into that later.


I need to give you my stats, so here they are:

Weight: 176.0
Height: 5'9"
Age: 26
BMI: 26.0
Waist: 34"
Hips: 41"
Arms: 13"
Legs: 26"

My first goal is to get under 170 pounds. That's six pounds, equalling roughly the size of three and a half grapefruits. A pound of fat = 3,500 calories, so I need to lose 21,000 calories. According to Glamour.com's calculators, to maintain my weight I need to eat 2,112 calories a day. Cutting or burning 500 a day will drop me a pound a week. Yesterday I ate about 1,335 calories (cutting 777), and burned approximately 281 calories on the stationary bike. My pedometer says I walked about 8,000 steps yesterday (the recommended total is 10,000 but I'm shooting for over 5,000 a day to start). That was a lot of numbers to throw at you. Sorry. The total is 1,058 calories lost yesterday. At that rate it will take me about twenty days to lose those six pounds. It's kind of funny when you look at it that way, because I've been trying to lose those six pounds for two years. I will be both shocked and disappointed (and psyched) if it comes off that quickly. Seriously - if it were that easy and I just didn't do it for two years, that means I'm lazy! Why the hell didn't I do that sooner?

Of course this morning, I used my new Belgian waffle maker and made waffles. I consumed 767 calories. Ugh. I ate 225 yesterday for breakfast. I'm hoping to stay full through lunch (it's eleven-thirty now) and do better for dinner.

I'm looking now for a good website that lists caloric info - bananas don't list their calorie amounts, nor do most fruits or vegetables. Do you know of any? I'm also looking for a way to represent my progress graphically. Maybe a widget? Do any of you know a way to do that? Thanks.

~Amalia~