Bah … humbug? December 2, 2010

It’s starting to freak me out … I cannot seem to get into the holiday swing of things. What’s even worse:

It doesn’t feel like I even WANT to.

I know I’ve mentioned umpteen times that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year, and I sort of think I got burned out after that. After all, I was hungover and still managed to cook for 6 hours that day.

I’ve already crossed two gifts off my list (Mom_D and Dad_D), and after some time on the Interwebs, I picked out what I am buying brother and sister. I’ll probably get a ridiculous sweater for my dog. And, BF and I are limiting ourselves to a “$50 budget” this year. (I put that in quotes, because odds are we’ll both spend more than that … we always do. But I’m seriously limiting myself to ~75. Seriously.)

I don’t particularly want to listen to holiday music. I have no desire to put up decorations. I sort of want to send Christmas cards, but at age 25, the majority of your friends are nomadic and the thought of trying to get everyone’s mailing addresses intimidates me into lethargy. The thought of (more) snow just kind of pisses me off. The kicker: I don’t even feel like doing holiday arts and crafts.

This upsets me, because while I loathe being forced into an early Christmas celebration,  I really do enjoy the holiday season (most years). I can’t figure out what my problem is. And, it’s the 2nd of the month already! There are only 23 days left for me to get my ass in gear … and then it’s another ~340 days before I can get excited again.

Possible causes I’ve come up with so far:

• I’m just busy. Between 2 jobs, maintaining a workout schedule and everything else, holiday stuff just sort of seems like a chore.
• I have become inexcusably frugal, and I’ve started to hate the idea of carrying around a lot of “stuff.” That being said, the idea of dropping a ton of cash on said “stuff” is kind of silly to me.
• My brother and sister really really really really like to celebrate Christmas early. I may or may not have been put off by their enthusiasm last month … and that default state of mind is carrying over into December.
• Holiday traffic/shoppers make going anywhere an epic pain in the @$$. This has the tendency to make me frustrated.
• I miss BF, and am in a transitional living state after having my own home for three years, which I was free to decorate (or not decorate) as I pleased.

Anyone else feeling this way this year, or am I just Scrooge right now? I got a little taste of joy yesterday buying gifts for Mom_D and Dad_D, but it fizzled pretty quick :-\

Ninja Edit: After some thought, I realized that I initially wrote this post in a very negative light. I changed some words around, because I don’t mean to be negative. I’ve been happier in the last few months (particularly in the last few weeks) than I’ve been in a really long time … my friend even told me to cut it out the other day, I was creeping him out so much. So, I’m not angry. Just frustrated as to why the holiday spirit seems to be eluding me this year!

Currently loving: Flannel (I can’t help it), reading men’s fashion blogs (SO much insight), leggings. I cannot wear enough leggings right now.

hilarious image from akaporn

The first day is always the hardest August 30, 2010

In case you didn’t notice, I’ve been MIA for a little over a week. BF got into town on the 21st, and since then everything’s been an absolute whirlwind. I haven’t done that much in a week … ever, I think:

• Ate our way through Seattle’s Pike Place Market (including Piroshky Piroshky, YUMM)
• Tasted at/toured three different breweries
• Drove across the state of Washington twice
• BF got to go to his brother’s bachelor party up at Priest Lake (“it was like ‘The Hangover’ … in the woods”)
• Went bowling
• Did yardwork
• Set up for a wedding
• Cooked for a wedding
• Attended two weddings in two days (congrats to Brett & Cori and Simon & Merissa!)
• Sang karaoke

To be quite honest, it was pretty much a week-long bender, and I could hardly stand up last night, I was so tired. Took BF to the airport this morning for what I’m fervently praying is the last time for a long-time separation. I am quickly remembering why I promised myself that we’d never do this again after I moved to Florida. Lots of tears last night, and all morning.

I thought I was okay by the time I got home from SeaTac, but Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes’ “Home” started to play when I was turning on my street (BF had never heard the song before, and we quickly dubbed it the theme song for the trip, as the lyrics are oddly appropriate: “home is wherever I’m with you”) and I just lost it again.

Unfortunately, we are breaking one of the cardinal rules of long-distance relationships and we don’t have a date set for when we’ll see each other again (this makes it easier, so you have something to count down to). Might have to figure that out. Other coping strategies besides my obscene to-do list, working out, and chocolate? Ideas? Anyone? Bueller?

Anyway, I have a work-related phone call in 2 minutes, so I need to quit sniffling and get my life together.

Currently loving: MGMT in general, nice weather in Seattle today, starting the workout plan my sister developed for me!

image from cliff1066 (BF took the camera back with him to Orlando)

What … happened? July 21, 2010

Prepare yourselves … this is kind of a downer post.

On a whim (and because I refuse to start a new assignment 10 minutes before COB), I was looking through old pictures on Facebook, making sure I don’t have any obscene pictures from college up there, hanging around for potential employers to see.

And you know what? It really upset me to see how obviously happy I was back then. Like, really, legitimately, not-worried-about-anything-in-the-back-of-my-mind happy. Here’s a few:

See what I mean? (And no, I’m not drunk in ALL of these pictures.) I look at pictures that have been taken recently, and there’s just something that’s different. Sure, I’ve gained weight, but that’s not it. There’s just something missing in recent pictures that shows up here.

And that really makes me sad

Currently loving: Pedicure with coworker today (baby pink!), crossing stuff off my to-do list, Pioneer Woman’s mashed potatoes (foodgasm warning)

Talk about procrastination monster … June 22, 2010

I’ll be flat out honest, I’ve been putting off writing this post because I’ve been undecided about how much or how little to disclose.

And, because last week was one of the more stressful weeks in my life as of late.

Basically, BF went to the hospital in an ambulance the afternoon of the 12th (at halftime of the England/USA game). That was not the first time I’ve had to call an ambulance, but I discovered that there is nothing worse than getting a phone call where all you can hear is (“in the bathroom” “puking blood” “ambulance please”) through static.

We were in the ER for 6 hours (during which nobody really told us why we were there …), and they ended up keeping him until Monday night (on a liquid diet most of the time). I was at the hospital for the entirety of visiting hours both Sunday and Monday. Thank goodness both my work and his work were very accommodating — he was out until Friday, and I went back Tuesday.

BF will be okay (thank GOD), but odds are he’ll be on medication for most of his life, and he’ll require a few (significant) lifestyle changes. He’s seeing a doctor tomorrow, and then will go back in a couple weeks to have a follow-up procedure done.

There are about 2390571945831 blog posts I wanted to write about our experience at Florida Hospital East (mainly: WHY ARE YOU GIVING MY BOYFRIEND SODA, COFFEE AND LEMONADE GIVEN HIS PARTICULAR DIAGNOSIS, and also your cafeteria is awesome) … but when it comes down to it, I’m just glad BF is out. Hospitals are scary, depressing places (although most of the nurses we saw were awesome!).

I had a really hard time getting back up and running last week, and I actually ended up staying home sick Thursday. It’s amazing how much of a toll stress can take on your body. As far as I was concerned, BF wasn’t functioning normally until this last Sunday, and it took me until Friday to feel normal again.

Also, that weekend emphasized the importance of living near family. I cannot tell you how much of a relief it was for BF’s dad and stepmom to be able to buzz over to the hospital. That was my first time staying in a hospital for more than 45 minutes … and I had no idea what questions to ask the doctors in the 5 minutes that we actually got to see them. They were able to hang out with me while BF was sleeping, eat with me (I didn’t want to eat in front of BF since he couldn’t eat solid food), reassure me that things were going to be fine, ask the questions that I should have been asking. Given that I became the improptu contact for work, friends and family all over the nation, I felt like I had my plate full. Not to mention that I was the main point of contact between BF and the nurses (he didn’t want to be mobbing around in a hospital gown, dragging an IV). I appreciate their presence SO MUCH. How do people deal with that alone?

That weekend also served as a reminder to please PLEASE PLEASE take care of yourselves. You only get one body, and in order to allow it to enable you to live a lifestyle you enjoy … you have to take care of it. Don’t ignore it if it’s hurting. Even if it turns out to be nothing, better to investigate early.

Currently loving: The Two Towers audiobook, microwaved sweet potatoes, TRUEBLOOD (although wtf was up with that Snoop Dogg song!?)

image from boliston

Sad News :( June 4, 2010

I got off the phone with my dad earlier, and he had some not-so-great news about Kirby (who you may remember from this post).

See, over the last few years, Kirby has been developing a tumor on his back left leg. It hasn’t really presented any mobility issues or anything, so we just kind of let it be. It’s been growing pretty aggressively over the last few months, however.

Over this last weekend, (yuck alert) it started to bleed a LOT and Kirby started to have some issues (he was super lethargic, etc.). My parents took him to the vet today, where they x-rayed him. Turns out the tumor is so big — almost the size of a softball — that they are going to have to amputate the leg up to the hip. They can’t really tell how far the tumor goes up into his body, so with luck, they will get all of it with the amputation. In the next 6-9 months, they’ll be monitoring any growths in and around the hip, in case they didn’t get it all.

I’m really glad they don’t have to put him down or anything, but I’m really upset. We raised him from a puppy, and it makes me sad that this is happening to him. He’ll have to wear a cone on his head for 2-3 weeks after tomorrow’s surgery, and I feel even worse that he won’t be able to see that his leg is gone! How will he understand what’s going on, except suddenly there’s nothing there when he goes to walk? He doesn’t handle change well (he was pissed for a year when we moved his crate in the family room), and I’m worried that he will become doggie depressed.

The good news is that the vet said he is in great health other than the tumor (he is an old man at 12!), and that especially with corgis, they carry more weight in their front legs than the back. He said the majority of corgis he’s seen who are missing a back leg do just fine after a short learning curve. This makes me feel a little better.

But I am still sad

Pictures of Kirby that make me happy (he is SO POUTY about his Christmas sweater):

Wake up call May 24, 2010

Fair warning: This is going to be a long post. I have provided pictures to get you through it … none of which have anything to do with the subject matter, but they make me happy.

For the last few months, I’ve been lackadaisical about eating/working out. Basically, I’ve done a decent job … but it definitely could have been better. I’m still trying to make adjustments in an effort to find habits that I can maintain as part of my lifestyle, and I guess I’ve erring on the side of “too relaxed” lately.

I joined a gym near our new apartment on Saturday, and as part of signing up, I went through a session with a personal trainer. I took some good things from the workout, including a reminder to shake things up early and often (mode of cardio, pace, rate and frequency of weight reps, etc).

Then, the part that everyone dreads … being weighed and body fat percentage-tested. I hate scales, so I tried not to put too much emphasis on that number, but it was the highest I’ve been in my life. Like, not even “ok, this sounds like a lot but I am still okay with it” high … seriously fat high. And, my body fat percentage is outrageous. Like, probably seriously impacting my health high.

I know I’ve gained some weight, but I didn’t quite realize it had gone this far.

As you can imagine, this scared the everloving shit out of me. I worked hard for 3-4 months, relaxed a bit the last couple months, and I haven’t even inched closer to the weight I was at three years ago. In fact, everything has gone higher. In addition to everything else, this made me feel like shit about my body. Negative body-talk reached an all time high over the last 24 hours, and even now I am trying desperately to stop.

So, long story short, I ended up signing up for a 1x/week personal training session for 12 months. It was a great price, and I’m pretty sure I’d see results, but when I later sat down to look at my budgeting, I realized there’s absolutely no way I can add this into my expenses and make any sort of dent in my credit card debt. I am supposed to have my first meeting with my trainer tonight, but I called this morning to let the gym know that I’m going to have to cancel the program (you have a 72-hour grace period to do so).

This makes me feel like shit for a number of reasons, including:

• I already tried to lose weight on my own through a number of methods. Clearly, it didn’t work.
• I’m worried that I’m going to get charged for something.
• My weight and body fat percentage are out of control. Maybe this is something I should do, and eat the cost.

I guess I’m just at a point where I’m questioning my ability to do this on my own. I am flat out not getting any support from BF on working out or eating well, so I’m doing this 100% solo. But it wasn’t good enough last time, and I really gave it my all! What if things just keep getting worse no matter how hard I try?

And then the rational part of me says, “calories in, calories out, Lex.” And I respond, “okay, back to My Plate it is.”

So, this morning I called the gym to cancel the personal trainer. I got to work early so I could re-calibrate my MyPlate account. I also took some time to organize a health journal that I plan to carry with me. MyPlate will be the main way that I count calories, but the journal includes the following for each day:

• Fruit/veg serving count
• Water count
• Place to check off that I remembered to take my vitamins
• Total calories
• Workout

Basically, I thought about everything that I could be doing to benefit my body and my health, and I want to keep track of that in this journal. I’ve already organized information for the week. For the “workout” section, I’ve either written in a commitment to a class (spinning tomorrow, Yoga on Thursday), or put information from Gina‘s Summer Shape-Up 2010 on a sticky note so I can just take it out and put it on my waterbottle when I go to the gym … and then re-stick it on the journal when I get back.

I’m also going to dedicate time on Sundays to making food in bulk for lunches during the week. I made a batch of 4 of these quinoa black bean burgers yesterday, and have enough leftover quinoa for another meal (probably a tabbouleh-type thing). This way I’ll be able to save money and eat healthier.

It’s Monday. I’d already cried by 9:30 this morning. Creating the journal and re-activating MyPlate took the edge off, but I am still seriously freaked out and desperate-feeling. I am trying to think of today as the first day of Summer Shape Up, a start to a new week, the start of clean eating again, the third day that I’ve worked out in a row. It’s really hard right now, though

Currently loving: Pirate Radio, my mom sending me the newest House of Night novel, taking action to incite positive change in my life (I am trying really hard to make this a big deal amongst the negativity in my mind)

flower image from Lel4nd

sunset image from Per Ola Wiberg

penguin image from Me-Liss-A

Causes that move you May 5, 2010

Busy busy busy at the casa de D! BF has a less-than-awesome week at work this week, so last weekend he encouraged me to schedule some stuff after work (so he can just come home and be crabby by himself). Hence, fun stuff all over! In honor of Cinco de Mayo I’m heading over to an event at the Enzian Theater in Maitland tonight, and tomorrow night I have a happy hour with my coworkers and then a girls’ night to celebrate a friend’s engagement. And then Friday, I’m considering heading over to Tampa with some friends to see Tim McGraw and Lady Antebellum. Tickets are only $30, and it’s been too long since I’ve seen a concert. Shame shame.

Also, my knee still sucks. So yoga, less-than-brisk walking and icing it is.

I’d like to take a step back from my usual tongue-in-cheek banter and tackle a more serious subject, spurred by Caitlin’s recent post at Healthy Tipping Point.

Charities. They always sound like a great idea, but with so many (and not much disposable income/time), involvement can get a little overwhelming. Prior to moving to Florida, I did community service, but not for any causes that really moved me. It was usually to fill a class requirement or something. My parents weren’t involved in charities, either, so there wasn’t any pressure from them to investigate causes.

My first genuine interaction with charities was really at my current job. I work at a PR firm, and we have a variety of non-profit clients. Through this involvement, I’ve learned a lot about myself. I think part of the reason I was never really deeply involved in a charity before was because I was still growing up and learning about me. I’ve always loved animals, so that’s a given, but my interest in other people was limited. In the last couple years, I’ve discovered that the causes that really set a spark in me are children’s education (including support for deserving teachers), welfare of animals, and children’s welfare.

The education one surprises me. Maybe it’s my secret longing to be a teacher (it’s always been there, I just gravitated more to PR) or something, but my time working with a local school district’s foundation was very memorable. The kids really surprised me sometimes … and the TEACHERS! Some of them were so creative and inspiring.

Also, children’s welfare: To put it bluntly, I’m not a huge fan of kids. I am not planning on being a parent for a long time. But, after taking a facility tour at the Kids’ House of Seminole, I realized that the idea of child abuse and neglect really gets to me. There are children out there who, on a daily basis, deal with circumstances many of us can’t even imagine. I was in tears when we finished the tour

I also spend time volunteering with animals at Pet Rescue by Judy, a no-kill animal shelter. I am not trying to make an obscene comparison, but with both the Kids’ House and PRBJ, I think it’s the fact that recipients of services (children and animals) just need to be loved that appeals to me. They are denied something that is a basic need for most people: love and approval. Positive reinforcement. Socialization. And all they need is my time? Sign me up.

Feel free to share issues that move you — and why!

Currently loving: “Southern Girl” by Incubus, Perfect Protein Pancakes from The Fitnessista, COFFEE!

image by jetalone

Learning the Hard Way March 30, 2010

I told you March was crazy.

On Saturday, BF and I were slated to attend a Yankees spring training game over in Tampa. Both of us REALLY look forward to these games. The facilities are smaller and more intimate, the weather is usually gorgeous (not yet into rainy season, but out of the winter “chill”) … and really, there’s not much that’s better than sunshine, beer, hot dogs and baseball. Really.

BF bought the tix a few months ago, and we’ve been eagerly awaiting the event, as March was batshit crazy for both of us and we needed some time to unwind. We also had plans to meet up with BF’s dad and stepmom at a swanky martini bar in Orlando on our way home.

This would have been an epic day, had the tickets we bought actually been for Saturday’s game. And, had Saturday’s game actually been in Tampa.

That’s right, the tickets we bought were for a game two weeks earlier, on March 13. Saturday, the Yankees weren’t even IN Tampa. We have no idea where we got March 27 from, but we missed the game we bought tickets to. What a freaking waste of $70.

To say the least, BF was pissed (at himself, this is normally a Lex_D move for sure) and sorely disappointed. I was just glad we’d looked at the tickets before we left for Tampa.

We made the most of the beautiful (and may I say, baseball-perfect) weather by hitting up Johnny’s Fillin Station for “Orlando’s best burger” (THERE WERE CANNED MUSHROOMS ON MY BURGER, GET SOME STANDARDS ORLANDO) and then taking a stroll around Lake Eola downtown.

Then we played Borderlands, smoked sheesha and went to bed at a respectable hour.

Lesson learned. Check your event tickets.

To make up for the loss, we are heading down to Disney’s Wide World of Sports today to watch the Yankees take on the Braves. It’s looking like a beautiful Central Florida day, and since the games yesterday and Sunday were rained out, we might even see some starters play.

And yes, we’re positive the tickets for this event are the right ones.

image from ian_ransley

Take that, anxiety! February 4, 2010

I’ve been told it’s no secret to anyone that BF and I are on the brink of making some major decisions about the next phase of our lives (the “no secret” part is why I’m comfortable talking about it here).

At this point, all we know is that come March 31, we are moving out of our current apartment building, most likely into an apartment closer to the area where both of us work in the Orlando area.

Moving is a pain in the ass. Chris Illuminati does the best job at explaining why here. I know this. We have way more &$*@ than we did when we both moved to Florida (seriously, if it didn’t fit in our cars, it didn’t come with us). The end of March is going to suck royally. I need to make a friend who has a truck, FAST.

I am proud to say that I am taking this decision in stride. Moving sucks, but I’m prepared to deal with it when the time comes.

On my way to the gym last night, I was struck by the fact that if we moved closer to work, we’d be moving away from the gym I’ve been going to. I plan to ask if we can just transfer our membership to another gym in the same chain (anyone ever done this?), but for some reason I was still upset by the idea.

Like, seriously upset. I guess the idea of having to transfer gyms was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me regarding moving, because I pretty much freaked out in the car. I thought I was going to cry, and my stomach started to do whatever it does that gives me the usual awesome stabbing pain.

It got to the point where I was considering going home and hammering out some research to make myself feel better. Or cleaning something. Or baking those granola cookies I’ve been meaning to make since Saturday.

These signs: Need for answers, stomach pain, desire to scrub and bake … these are the harbingers of a Lex-pocalypse. I was on the fast-track to really losing my cool (at 80 mph).

Instead of doing any of the above, I plugged in my iPod and started up my “ANGRY” playlist that I maintain for times such as these. And, as the bass made my mirrors shake (love you, BOSE speakers), I decided to go to the gym anyway.

I always read that exercising was a good way to combat anxiety and depression. I believe the depression thing, for sure. I was briefly on Lexapro, and I think the last 4 months of regularly working out helped more than those stupid pills. Until last night, I had yet to be convinced about quelling anxiety.

What I’d never realized was that the treadmill or the elliptical, or a stationary bike, are awful ideas when I’m anxious. I’m not the kind of person whose mind is cleared by running. It’s just 30-60 minutes of time I have to stew and worry.

What made last night’s routine so anti-anxiety was that I was actively thinking about working out the entire time. I did 2 advanced Winter Shape Up circuits just prior to a 60-minute Zumba class. When you’re busting your ass going from exercise to exercise, or trying to make your legs (and butt and abs and arms, for that matter) do what your Zumba instructor’s are doing … you’re not thinking about anything else. For a full 90 minutes last night, I didn’t think about moving. And when it was done? I was too tired to even go back to it.

Success.

Any other anti-anxiety tips? I’m always up for new ideas.

moving image from atom’s photostream

Zumba pic from cimm’s photostream

My name is Lex … February 3, 2010

… and I have gamer ADD.

At any given time, I’m playing between 5 and 10 games simultaneously.

This sounds absolutely crazy (and even worse, sounds like I’m living in my parents’ basement, just gaming all the time), but it’s true. Currently, I’m in the middle of:

• Machinarium
• Arkham Asylum
• Final Fantasy X
• KOTOR
• Phoenix Wright: Justice for All
• Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks
• Bowser’s Inside Story
• New Super Mario Bros. Wii
• Scribblenauts

I define “current” games as those that I play at least once every two weeks.

Holy shit guys, I need help.

I’ve always known that I’m a multitasker. It’s why I work well at an agency. I’m always doing at least 3 things at once. I regularly keep at least 5 windows open in each browser I’m putzing around in. I’m reading 3 books right now. BF and I are watching about 4 TV series right now.

But 8 games? I know I don’t have a lot of free time, but you’d think that would make me commit to one game before starting another. But no. I’m like a kid in the proverbial candy store, just playing EVERYTHING I have in my grubby little hands and then tossing it aside for the next yummy-looking thing.

My friend also just pointed out that I haven’t beaten 2 of my top favorite games of all time: Fallout 3 and Oblivion. Before you start laughing, I’d like to point out that I’ve put more than 120 hours into Oblivion and nearly 80 into Fallout, so it’s not like I played for 5 minutes to say that I played them and then moved on.

This has dealt a serious blow to what I feel was a pretty solid gamer status. My confidence is shaken.

Someone else please tell me they do this, too. I need to feel less crappy about my gaming habits!

image from henry9112