WLW: Holiday Seasoning

I really don't think this past week should count. At all.

I knew this was going to happen, I knew I was going to fall off the wagon and eat a bunch of crap I shouldn't be eating. So, fuck it. This week, no weigh in! Merry Christmas, Ginger's Ass! Hope you enjoyed all that garbage food, 'cause we're going to spend the next few months working the hell outta you!

I'm actually really looking forward to being back on the wagon, since now when I don't eat properly it feels like there's a rock in my stomach. It's really very unpleasant. And makes wearing anything other than pajama pants unpleasant to wear. Hooray for looking like a slob!

Speaking of pants...

I picked up a size 10 pair of the jeans I currently wear, to act as a motivator. The size 12s are starting to sag in the ass area, which is awesome, but I think I got a ways to go in the thigh area before the 10s will fit. Said jeans will hang beside my bedroom mirror, so I will see them every time I stand there and scrutinize myself.

So, yeah. There ya go. Lets wrap with post up with some random funny image... or better yet, a video of something totally awesome that I could never eat.

Take it away, Epic Meal Time!

Okay, the use of fruit rollups in place of nori? Fucking genius.

Season's Cheatings,

Ginger.

Sugar Shock

This is something of a secondary WLW post, as it's one of those scattered thoughts I wanted to write about, but didn't really flow with Wednesday's post. So instead, I blog about it here.

During my usual scanning through the newswires earlier this week, I came across a little story about the sugar in kid's breakfast cereals. The headline really grabbed me (as headlines are supposed to, duh) as it said "Sugary cereals are like serving dessert for breakfast".

Now, for those who haven't been following my get-healthy endevours, I quit sugar back in June (I've since fallen off the wagon several times, but that's not the point here) and one of the big things I had to give up was cereal. Those aforementioned sugary cereals.

See, I love junky cereal. Fruit Loops, Lucky Charms, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Golden Grahams, the list goes on and on. And I would just eat them for breakfast – I'd eat them for before-bed snacks as well. In total I probably ate something like four or five bowls a day. And I'm not talking four or five actual serving sizes either. Like a decent size bowl filled to the brim.

Turns out I was likely eating the equivalent of a box a Twinkies a day. And I couldn't figure out why I was fat? Fuck, I am stupid some days.

Cereal doesn't have a lot of calories in respect to a lot of food, so I figured it wasn't that bad for me. It's not like I was eating four or five cheeseburgers a day. But the calorie count was all I was taking into consideration – I didn't even look at the sugar.

Sugar makes your ass get bigger!

An excess of sugar is actually what caused me to get up into the 230 range. Someone convinced me that drinking diet pop was a bad idea – aspartame is the devil and all that shit – so I figured, okay, I just drink regular pop. What I should have figured was I shouldn't drink pop at all, but no, I went with the former.

So I started with the regular pop. Not much a first, once a week maybe. But then I started drinking it as often as I drank diet pop. You know what the difference between regular pop and diet pop? About 41 grams of sugar (and something like 150 calories per can). I would drink a two litre bottle to myself in one evening. That is a seriously fucked up amount of of sugar. Between the pop and the cereal, it's no goddamn wonder I'd gotten so fat!

When I did tip the scale at 235 pounds, I made the decision to go cold turkey with my sugar addiction. I quit the cereal, and that was probably the hardest thing I did. I haven't had cereal at all in six months.

And you know what? I don't really miss it. Periodically I walk down the cereal aisle at the grocery store, just to look, but I don't feel any desire to pick out a box. It's actually astounding how much milk I went through when I used to eat cereal – now I don't even bother buying milk because I don't actually drink it. It just goes bad.

Now if I could just get around to throwing out those old half empty boxes of cereal that are sitting in my pantry...

WLW: Solstice

This time of the year is so goddamn crazy that I've barely been able to get to the track. I missed two days last week and one this week already! Yes, I went on Saturday, but once in five days is not good. At least I've still been able to do the morning workout.

But yesterday, I finally made it to the track after work even though my knee was all stiff and angry. It went by rather quickly as I spent most of my walk day dreaming about being skinny. I think I almost walked into a few people because of this.

It's actually a relief that today is the Winter Solstice and the days will gradually start getting longer. My energy levels have been down to nothing lately, all I do when I'm home is lay on the couch and cuddle with my kitties.

Stormy doesn't have a problem with this.

Wow, hello arm fat. Why did I post that?

Anyhoooo...

I was a little bad this week – after working an 11 hour day on Friday, brain fried and completely exhausted, I couldn't bring myself to go home and cook myself supper. So I went to Panago and ordered a pizza.

It was a medium, multigrain thin crust with pepperoni, black olives and extra cheese. And it was fucking delicious. As was the Italian Garlic dipping sauce.

That thin crust is the only way I can eat pizza now. Regular crust sends me into a carb coma, which is no fun at all.

I also had a little bowl of pasta for dinner at my sister's place. It was tasty, yet also slightly carb coma-inducing. Not as bad as I've had it before, but I was still pretty bagged after eating it.

But aside from that, I've been eating reasonably well. Which wasn't enough to show a significant loss this week – I was 224.9 last week... this week I'm 224.8. So the pizza and pasta likely weren't the best idea. But I am an emotional/stress eater, so shit like this tends to happen this time of year.

The fact that I'm not actually gaining anything is something to acknowledge, I think. Yay.

But you know what? I actually look pretty darn good for a bitch in the 220 range. I'll be doing my measurements next week to see how many inches I've gone down (my belly doesn't stick out anymore, so I damn well better have lost inches!) and hopefully if I just keep doing what I'm doing, Scale will start to play catch up. But we all know that Scale is a dirtbag asshole, so we'll just have to wait and see.

So Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa or whatever the hell you celebrate or don't celebrate. Just have a good week, okay?

Much love,

Ginger.

WLW: Weight, what?

I have been doing my twice-day-workout thing for two and a half weeks now. Two and a half weeks of dragging my ass out of bed well before I'm ready to be awake and doing some workout video, and then going straight to the walking track after work for an hour.

And you know what? I think it might actually be working.

Maybe? Just maybe?

Where does this sudden burst of optimism spring from, you ask? Well, let me tell you about my dance practice last week.

I think I've mentioned it before, but I hate the mirrors in the studio. One wall is covered with mirrors and they're completely warped. You look about twice as wide as you actually are, which is incredibly depressing when you're my size. I usually spend a good portion of practice judging my figure in the mirror and thinking 'holy shit, I cannot be that fat!'

Well, last week I didn't look quite so wide. In fact, I didn't look that wide at all. And my gypsy skirt was hanging differently. It was like my belly fat was no longer encompassing my whole torso, but just where my abs would be, you know, if I had them. Does that make sense?

Either way, that was the first practice I'd had in a long time where I didn't feel like a fat slob. And that made me very happy. Unfortunately, that was my last practice until sometime in January, so I can't even compare this week to last week.

And while I haven't gone down much weight-wise, I think I must be losing inches, because my size 12 jeans are starting to get loose. Not terribly loose, but a little bit loose. Which is nice to see after all that getting up early bullshit. After a month has gone by, I'm going to do my measurements and compare them to the ones I did a while back.

Oh, and to mix it up in the mornings, I've switched DVDs. I've temporarily replaced the Roller Derby Workout with The Biggest Loser workout. And I have to say, I really want to punch Bob Harper in the face every time I do the workout. No offense, Bob.

I'm sure this is not the first time he's been told that...

I'm making a serious effort with my eating – protein for breakfast, a vegetarian (for the most part) lunch and protein and veggies for dinner.

And for some reason I've started buying brown eggs instead of white eggs – I don't know why, just seemed like the thing to do.

I've also managed to limit my chocolate intake, which is amazing considering I helped make homemade chocolates on the weekend. I took most of them to a party to pass off onto my derbies and to work to pass off onto my co-workers. I'm evil like that.

And veggies, veggies, veggies! Big salad, broccoli and carrots to nibble on. Broccoli doesn't taste as good if it's not dipped in something. But eating them anyway. 'Cause veggies are good for you.

Who carries celery in their back pocket? Seriously?

So after all the lies that Scale told me last week, I wasn't looking all that forward to stepping on it this morning. But, being the weight loss masochist I am, I did anyway.

I am down from last week, sitting at 224.9. I was 226.7 last week. So I take that as a good sign. My fat poundage is fluctuating wildly, but I've decided I'm not even going to pay attention to that number.

So, yeah. In two weeks I'm going to do my measurements and see how many inches I've lost, if any. Until then, it's just me and Bob in the morning.

Inches and broccoli,

Ginger.

Say no to art?

This is absolutely brilliant.

see more Parenting Fails

My name is Ginger, and I photoshop.

WLW: Purdy's

Oh chocolate, how you mock me.

My Purdy's order arrived yesterday, in all its chocolately glory. Which was probably the worst day for it to show up, as if was right before weigh in. Couldn't have shown up tomorrow, oh no. Gotta be on Tuesday, sitting on my second desk and taunting me.

Though I will say, the pink himilayan salt peanut butter thingies are pretty fucking fantastic. And when they say "salt," they mean salt! It's practically rock salt on top.

I think I had six of those over the course of the day, plus at least four peanut butter fingers. SO I wasn't really shaping up to do that well this week.

Okay, I just went and counted.... it was more like eight pink salt things.

And one more to just even it out.

But, I have been rocking the exercise. I've been to the track almost every day, taking Sunday off, and I've been doing my morning workout DVD. So that's something.

I even did sprints with some of the derby girls... granted after a while my sprints turned into jogs, but whatevs!

...

These posts are a lot more fun to write when I'm actually losing.

I got up this morning, expecting to be down from last week at least. My belly is getting smaller, so I took that as a sign that maybe I'd finally post a significant loss.

Scale had other ideas.

I weighed myself yesterday just to see where I was, which according to Scale was 225.5 – where I've been forever. I knew that the chocolate I consumed yesterday would probably sabetoge that a little bit, but nothing super significant.

I weighed in at 227.7.

I know I did not consume enough chocolate to gain two whole pounds, and I even had soup for dinner just as a way to counterbalance the chocolate I ate. So instead of doing my morning workout, I got pissed off and went back to bed for an hour.

I didn't actually sleep, but just laid there with my eyes closed and thought. Clearly I'm doing something wrong. I know I'm not as strict with my eating as I was when I started, so it's likely time to start doing that again. Twelve days of eating right and two off at the end of that cycle. Cutting back on carbs – maybe not completely but for the most part – and loading up on the fruits and veggies.

While pretending to sleep, I came up with my lunch for the day. I would have yogurt with fruit for my protein, my totally-famous strawberry and feta salad and cucumbers as my snack. The Purdy's was staying at home so it wouldn't tempt me. Then after work, I would go to the track and then to dance practice.

That sounds good, right?

As my alarm went off for the second time this morning, I climbed out of bed with a new resolve. I was going to put my contacts in, put on a sweater dress and feel pretty. I would turn my eating around and get this weight off me! Yay!

And then, because I'm far more masochistic than I'd ever realized, I decided to step on the scale one more time before setting off and doing all the aforementioned stuff.

Apparently lying in bed and thinking is an effective weight loss tool. I was down to 226.7.

Scale, you are a lying piece of shit. I just want you to know that.

Carbs no more,

Ginger.

World Cup Weekend

I had this all written out and sounding super awesome, but then Blogger decided to be a bastard and didn't save it. Now I gotta try and remember all my witticisms...

This weekend was the first ever Blood & Thunder Roller Derby World Cup in Toronto. Teams from thirteen countries competed, including Australia, Brazil, France, England, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, New Zealand, Finland, Sweden, Argentina, USA and Canada.

Whoooooooooo, CANADA!!!

The different levels of talent was astounding – there were girls who had been skating for years, and some that have only played in a handful of bouts. To have the chance to compete at an international tournament, no matter the skill level, would be an exhilerating experience.

I love that all the girls playing looked like they were having fun. Towards the end of the Canada/Finland team, all the skaters on the track before one of the last jams got together for a big group hug. That was awesome, and something you likely won't see in any other sport.

Another cool thing about this sport? We have more opportunity to meet and learn from the national team skaters. Like I said here, I got the chance to take part in a skate clinic with two Team Canada skaters – luludemon and 8mean Wheeler. Yesterday I watched luludemon score 10 points on Team USA. Last month she showed us how she can practically tap dance in her skates during an agility drill. How cool is that?!!?

I think I'm going through derby withdrawals – knowing that I don't have a game to watch today makes me sad.

But something else made me sadder. And by sadder, I mean madder.

Throughout the weekend, I reading a lot of the comments on DNN where posters were complaining about these huge points blowouts between the more experienced teams and the up-and-coming ones. 377-8, 408-7, 435-1, 499-8, 532-4 were some of the scores when teams played Canada or the USA. Some are calling it unsportsmanlike (unsportswomanlike?) to do 40-0 jams when the lead team is already up by a ridiculous amount of points. That teams like USA and Canada were being disrespectful and totally not cool for not going easy on the other less experienced teams.

I only have one thing to say to that: Fuck You.

Okay, that's a lie. I have more things to say about that.

This is roller derby, not elementary school where we have to hand out participation ribbons to everyone. Going easy on anyone in a bout is the ultimate insult to those less skilled players. They went there expecting to play the best in the world, not a team that's going to stand to one side and let them score a few mercy points.

Those teams that went against the USA earned every point they got. None of them were just given away for free, they had to work their asses off offensively and defensively to get those points. And they should be (and likely are) proud of themselves.

This whole concept of "running up the score" and "mercy rules" is a North American concept. No where else in the world would anyone ever consider going easy on another team just because they were losing. You're here to play a sport, you're here to compete. You do you're absolute best, and if that's not enough to win against a powerhouse team, well, that's just they way it is.

No one expects the Canadian Men's Hockey Team to take is easy on any other team during the Olympics – they expect a thrashing. Nor does anyone expect Spain or Brazil or Germany to take it easy on Canada during the FIFA World Cup. Soccer/Football is not a sport we're known for, but we send a team anyway and watch them get slaughtered by better teams. Brazil is not going to go easy on Canada or call a match if it's obvious they're going to win. If that were the case, they might as well just call the game in favour of Brazil before anyone walks out onto the pitch.

How I picture those posters on DNN that are

complaining about the point differential.

"Waaaaaah! You're so meeeeean for not letting us score points!!"

Derby girls are not pussies. They want to go into a competition and give it their all and know that the other team is going to do the same.

Even better were some posters claiming to know what the girls on the losing team were thinking! Despite a Scotland skater claiming she was having the time of her life after her team's loss to the USA, one poster said that despite what that girl said in the post-match interview, she really must be devastated by the loss.

I'm sorry, are you a mind reader? Or are you just projecting your own personal feeling you have about losing that were drilled into your head as a kid? Maybe that's the problem, we have a tendency to make losing out to be a much bigger deal than it is. Losing a game shouldn't be devastating, nor should it be rewarded. It's just a part of life. Win some, lose some as the saying goes. Losing should inspire kids to work harder to succeed, and even if they don't become to top team, then for fuck's sake, have fun!

Sports should be competitive, but they should also be fun. If people didn't instill this sense of WIN WIN WIN and then belittle them when they lose, maybe we wouldn't need mercy rules.

Roller Derby is fun. Like a shit-tonne of fun. I don't think I've played a bout where my team won, but you know who gave a fuck? No one, especially not me. I learned so much from those bouts and will continue to learn more the more times I play. And I can't wait to play again. And I bet the other teams at the B&T World Cup can't either.

Don't hate, roller skate!

Book Vs. Movie: 1408

Welcome to a new random feature here on Writing, Schemes and Derby Dreams. Every so often, likely when the mood strikes me, I will do a little write up comparing a book to its film version and vice versa.

First up is the 2007 film/2002 short story, 1408.

That's Samuel L. Jackson, motherfucker!

Please bear in mind that the version of the film I have is the director's cut, which has a vastly different ending than the theatrical release. Since the director's cut is the one I've seen, that is what I'll be going by here.

1408 is a film based of a Stephen King short story originally part of an audiobook called Blood and Smoke, and later put into written form for the collection Everything's Eventual. The latter is probably my favourite collection of his due to the actual scariness of the stories contained within.

The cliff's note version is such: Mike Enslin, a writer of cheap generic "10 Haunted >Enter Location Here<" type books, played by John Cusack in the movie, needs a new hook for his next piece of claptrap, and heads to New York City to stay at the Dolphin Hotel in the infamous room, 1408.

Note that the number 1, 4, 0 and 8 add up to 13. Many hotels do not acknowledge that they have a 13th floor as it's considered very bad luck. Technically speaking, they all do, they just call it the 14th floor. 1408 is on the 14th floor of the Dolphin Hotel, which is actually the 13th floor.

People have died in 1408. Many people. Over 50 according to Samuel L. Jackson in the film. Some via bizarre suicides, others of what seemed to be natural causes. No one goes into the room except for a monthly turn-down service, and anyone that is in the room for any length of time beyond that goes batshit insane if they manage not to die.

Crazy writer decides hey, this is probably a total load of bullshit, I can do what dozens of other people have failed to do!

Yeah, right.

Enslin discovers that not only is he so very very wrong, but there's a good chance he won't leave this room alive. And it goes downhill from there.

Personally, I feel the movie spent too much time focusing on Enslin's personal problems in an attempt to give his eventual madness more depth. I really didn't need to see all the stuff about his dead daughter, or his shitty relationship with his father. The room is scary enough on its own, or at least in the book it is.

I know this is just to pad the movie out, and the original story itself isn't very long. But I'd rather have seen more disembodied voices screaming "This is nine! Nine!" and "We have killed your friends!" through the telephone in the room than see Enslin relive his daughter's battle with cancer or whatever it was that killed her.

It is pretty sweet that the movie throws in the mindfuck of thinking Enslin is out of the room, that it was all just a dream, only to discover that he hadn't left the room since he entered it. That's one long hour. Even more so once the clock radio finishes it's countdown, only to start over again.

Sadly, it isn't until then that the random phone calls of people yelling numbers happens. That was by far the creepiest part of the book.

Although the phone telling Enslin that he totally has free will and is more then welcome to use the "express checkout service" is pretty fucking creepy.

Pictured: Express Checkout Service

I actually prefer the ending in the book. In it, Enslin attempts to light himself on fire, but the room, in an attempt at self preservation, spits him out into the hallway and he survives. He gives up writing and is a complete metal case for the rest of his life. In the version of the movie I have, he lights the room on fire, which screams and moans in agony, and dies. Both of them.

That actually feels more like a cop out. The lingering psychological effects of the room is what makes the whole thing so scary. Enslin dying removes that whole aspect of the story. It's not the same. He may be a victim of 1408, but unlike the previous deaths in the room, he is liberated by finally beating the room at its own game and can move on to the afterlife to be with his daughter.

Meanwhile, Book Enslin has to sleep with the lights on and can't handle having a phone in his house. He will likely have PSTD and be haunted by his experience until he dies. Movie Enslin got off easy.

I think in the end the story just works better in terms of sheer terror than the movie. How I pictured what Enslin described in my head was far scarier than how it was depicted be Cusack in the movie.

Book: 1

Movie: 0

WLW: Sigh

I had much stress last week with all the parking drama. It's been resolved – thank fuck for that – but I was an absolute wreck by the time Saturday rolled around.

About.com tells me that yes, stress can make you gain weight, even if you're not being an emotional eater like I usually am. I didn't emo-eat this week, I was too upset, so I'm gonna guess it's cortisol or something hormone-y related.

Also, I'm trying to exercise more. And that always makes me heavier on the scale at first.

See, our derby coach gave us a not-too-subtle hint that we should be getting into shape for next season, because he's going to murder us or something if we don't. Okay, those weren't his exact words, but you can tell that was the real message if you read between the lines... Basically he doesn't want us getting all soft over the break. Which I get.

So after pondering what I can do to try and get into shape, I made the decision to drag my ass out of bed an hour earlier than usual to do this lovely little torture device called Roller Derby Workout.

Good Morning, Ginger! We're here to kill you!

It's all leg, core and ass work, and painful as fuck. And despite what it says on the cover there, they want you to wear skates while you do it because they talk to you like you're wearing skates. I'm not quite there yet, maybe in another week I'll get brave and release my skates from their prison. For now, my own body weight will have to suffice, because I can barely walk when I'm done.

On top of this, I'm also going to the indoor walking track right after work to power walk for an hour. I have to go to the track straight from work, otherwise I'll find some way to talk myself out of going if I'm home for any amount of time. I know me, I'm like that.

I'll be doing this Monday to Friday, then maybe just going regular walking on the weekends... or maybe I'll try actually jogging instead. Might be time to climb back on that horse.

Today was only my third day doing this, so I don't expect any results just yet. I've heard from a very reliable source (my sister) that it takes 21 days of doing something before it becomes a habit. So I'm going to try this for three weeks and see what I get.

It's funny – I was having a discussion with my coworker the other day about how I seem to do one or the other, eat right or exercise. It's rarely both. When I'm eating properly, I don't seem to exercise as much. When I'm exercising a lot, I tend to eat more since exercise makes me hungry. Surely there's a nice comfortable middle ground in there somewhere?

I'm up two pounds from last week, but according to the magic scale, I'm like down a pound of fat... is it possible to gain muscle in two days? I wouldn't think so, but maybe it is? I'm going to tell myself that's the case – it makes me feel better.

So I'm once again only down nine pounds, but now is not the time to get discouraged! I've got a dance performance and derby season coming up in the New Year, and I'm going to look fab for both! Yay!

To end this post on a high note, here's a photo I took earlier this week at dusk.

Purty.

Bend and Stretch,

Ginger.

Parking Wars

I don't know if this guy is just complete douchebag, or just completely ignorant about life in general. But I'm done with his fucking around, and I'm putting an end to it.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Let me explain.

I've been dealing with some bastard who decided that he didn't like the parking spot he was assigned to at our apartment building – he much preferred mine. His vehicle was a hard-topped jeep-looking thing, with what I'm guessing is his employer's name emblazoned across the side.

I have nothing against welding businesses, or any business in this town that help keep this economy going, but I don't know that many of the young guys that these companies hire are cocky fuckwads who think they know everything and had their mommies wipe their asses until they were 18. I know this as my sister had to deal with them where she worked prior to my niece coming into the world.

I can kind of understand that since my car was with the mechanic for four days and my spot was empty during that time, it would seem like the space is open to anyone. Especially to someone who just moved in.

However, my car was only gone four days, not four weeks! When I come home, I expect my spot to be empty so I can park there!

The first day he was in my spot, I left a note on his windshield, as is customary. I was not rude, I didn't even swear! I said please and thank you. I figured that would be the end of it.

Oh no. He was there again on Tuesday. And parked about four feet back from the end of the space. Clearly, he needed more room to get out of the space in the morning, cuz some crazy bitch had parked behind him! What nerve!

Motherfucker.

A note was left then saying 'Dude, not cool.' I parked elsewhere that night, thinking that perhaps that was his little revenge, and once he'd had it, he's stop being a prick.

Nope.

Wednesday I went to the property manager, explaining the situation. Obviously I was in the right, and he shouldn't be allowed to get away with it. She gave me a note with the company letterhead, saying very politely that he was parked in the wrong spot and that he would be shown the correct spot if he didn't know where it was. Failure to comply would lead to the towing of his vehicle.

I figure, okay, he's gotta move now. Once again, when I arrived home that day, he's in my spot, so I leave the note, parked behind him (with more than enough room for him to move around me, I might add) and was looking forward to coming home Thursday and having my spot all to myself again.

I was just thrilled to see my spot was in fact empty when I got home! He finally listened, hooray!

Nada. I am just not that fucking lucky.

That night, he boxed me in. Parked behind me as close as he could fucking get without touching my car. I had plans that night, errands to run that involved me driving somewhere, god-fucking-damn-it!!! Now, I know he's just doing it out of spite.

I am just livid at this point. I'm so mad I'm actually shaking. I could barely sleep that night, I couldn't clam down.

The next morning, Friday, I go back to my property manager. The lady tells me, alright, he's had fair warning. If he's in my spot again, I'm to call the on-call maintenance line and they'll get him towed. It's on them at that point, not me.

I get home that night, and my space is empty. I've pretty much lost hope at that point, and proceed to check every ten minutes to see if he boxes me in again.

Guess what?!!? He totally did!!! Shocker.

So I called the maintenance line. They said someone would get back to me right away. My totally lacking any faith in humanity at this point, didn't figure that would happen. Besides, I had to go take photos of the Santa Claus parade, then go get drunk with friends. So I did. And they didn't, call me that is.

And when I stumbled home drunk around midnight, his jeep thing was still there. He's actually pretty lucky I didn't have any eggs in the house at the moment, 'cause believe me, I was sorely fucking tempted.

And now it's Saturday, having woken up after a horrific dream and slightly hungover. I go check outside one last time.

He's still fucking there.

I think I called the maintenance line about three times to try and light a fire under their asses. I'm actually crying at this point because I'm so fucking frustrated and tired that I don't know what to do anymore. I'm starting to think I'll have to have him towed at my own expense, which could lead to all sorts of problems for as long as he/she/they are here.

Around noon, after I'd calmed down some, I went to check one more time before calling the line again. To my shock and wonder, he wasn't parked behind me anymore.

He must have just gone to do Saturday errands or something – if I leave, he'll just take the spot again. Which depressed me even more. However, the kitties needed kitty litter, so I had to go.

Imagine my sheer fucking elation that when I got downstairs, the fucking bastard was actually parked in his own spot on the other side of the building.

It's a holy fucking miracle!!!

I don't actually know what made him finally go over there, but I like to think that a maintenance guy whet to his apartment to serve him with a towing notice, and that prompted him to get the fuck out of my spot.

I was so relieved, I almost started crying again.

I know this probably sounds ridiculous, but it was really starting to feel like harassment. I was so paranoid about it that I couldn't sleep at night. I suppose I could have found out which apartment was his, and gone and confronted him myself, but I didn't know if he was some psychopath who would have gone and smashed my windshield in or something.

I really hate feeling like a doormat.

Sigh.

But it's over now, although that won't stop me from being paranoid for the next few weeks, half expecting to turn the corner and see that fucking truck in my spot once again.

Sleeping With One Eye Open,

Ginger.

WLW: finally....

I have been good as gold this week with my eating.

Well, maybe not totally... I did have some Werther's chocolate, but that's it. I went out for lunch with a friend and had a salad instead of a burger and fries, and had soup when I went with my sister. I didn't buy chips or any other crap.

This may have something to do with the fact that my car was in the shop.

See, we got a massive dump of snow on Nov. 17, the same day my car decided not to start. The lack of a vehicle, combined with the unpleasant weather, limited my ability to just take off to the store to find myself some snackies. If I was that motivated I suppose I could have walked, but it was cold out and I didn't wanna.

Like this, but times a billion.

I had no choice but to eat what I had in the house for most of the week, so I think that helped. My sister was kind enough to take my grocery shopping so I could stock up on vegetables, which is where I got the chocolate.

I did have one bad meal, though. Which is likely a contributing factor to this week's number. See, I have that Do Not Eat list, and it's full of mostly carby-starchy stuff, such as pasta.

Well, when I finally got my car back, I celebrated by going to the store to find something different for dinner – the thought of eating salad and fish/chicken again made me want to barf. I knew I was on track for a loss this week from eating that salad and fish, but I just needed something else.

So after wandering around aimlessly for like 20 minutes; going up and down the frozen pizza aisles, saying 'no' to that; considering a different meat, like steak or pork; wondering just how bad it would it be if I just three bags of chips and called it a day.

Then, after my third trip down Dairy Lane, I stopped at the end after spying the so-called fresh pasta. Now, pasta is on the Do Not Eat list, as I've mentioned before, but I spied a package of whole grain tortellini – WHole Grain!! Sure I could eat that! Whole grains are better than multi grains, right?

Wrong. So very very wrong.

I felt like shit later that night and the whole next day. Whole grain pasta is just as evil as regular pasta. Lesson learned.

So after all that, I stepped on the scale this morning and I was actually down! Holy shitballs, it's a miracle!!

It was only a pound, but it's something, right? Better than yet another stagnant week!

So I'm back to being down 11 lbs, which is a good step in the right direction.

Only, what? 14 more to go by New Year's?

Yikes.

I think I might switch up that goal a bit – see, my dance troupe is doing a performance in March, and I'd like to be just a bit more on the svelte side than the fat ass side by then, so maybe we'll make the goal be 25-30 down by then? Give me a little more time so I won't get quite so depressed come New Year's Eve.

Sound like a plan, man?

Chicken and Salad,

Ginger.

Post-election day

So it's done. Another election, another ballot cast.

Where I'm at in FSJ, we have a new Mayor and two new councillors (four were re-elected), and a voter turnout of approximately 21%.

That is appalling.

I don't know if it's just that people really don't give a shit who makes the decisions for them, or they're just too fucking lazy to make the trek down to the voting station – whatever their reason, beyond being in a coma on life support, it's unacceptable.

I get that people have other responsibilities – many people up here work in camp, so when you're stuck in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, it's a little difficult to get into town.

But this is why there is advanced voting. I know a lot of people who participated in that. But how do we light a fire under the ass of the rest of the population?

I also heard from a few people that they didn't feel informed enough to make a decision. Do you know whose fault that is? It's yours, for not getting yourself informed. It's like everyone wants all the pertinent info served up to them on a silver platter before they make a decision. You are all very capable people, you can be a little proactive and find out what the candidates all believe if you just opened your eyes and paid attention. Read the local websites and newspapers, they all had info on all the candidates. So that excuse really doesn't hold water.

Maybe we need to be like Australia and make voting mandatory. If you don't vote in any election, you get fined. Or maybe have it be something you can claim on your tax return? I check the little box saying 'Yes, I Voted This Year' and the government adds five bucks to your refund.

It's not much, but Hell, five bucks is five bucks.

Into the beer fund you go!

Or, as I've heard bandied about in the past, maybe we need to step into the 21st Century and do online voting. If I can file my taxes and fill out the census form online, surely to jeebus I should be able to securely cast my vote in any election.

I recently read an article saying that maybe we need to pre-register high school students to vote before they turn 18. I think it should go a step further, and introduce election conduct into the curriculum. Make it part of CAPP class (do they still even have that anymore?), like the mandatory work experience they have to do (they still have to do that, right?).

It could even be a mandatory elective. Kids would learn why their vote really does count (and it really does – in Radium Hot Springs, a councillior beat out her competition by one vote, for serious!), and how different the outcome of an election would be effected if 20, 50, 75 and 100% of the population voted. Hold mock-elections where only a certain number of kids would be allowed to vote, and see the results before increasing the number of participants. If they could actually see that in front of them, the lesson might stick as they get older.

Hook 'em while they're young, like the tobacco industry.

Ahh, sweet, sweet voting.... goes down smooth.

Our own election in FSJ could have had a very different outcome if all 12,000+ registered voters actually came out. There was only a 60 vote difference between the top two mayoral candidates! We could have a different mayor now if more people voted. Or the winning one would have won by a landslide (and contrary to what I saw a few people posting online last night, she did not win be a landslide – maybe compared to the third mayoral candidate, but not compared to the second candidate. Just sayin').

Maybe I just need to stop getting my hopes up that the population is going to step up and do their civic duty. I'd be less disappointed and could walk around saying 'I told you so, you fuckwads!'

As I once saw on a t-shirt in NYC: Fuck you, you fucking fucks!

But the thing is, those who don't vote really have no right to complain about how the city is being run for the next three years. I know they will complain, especially with winter being upon us and EVERYONE loves to bitch and moan about how long it takes to get the streets plowed. What we need is for everyone to wear a little spring-loaded box with a boxing glove inside that is triggered to release whenever people who didn't vote start whining about how the city is being run. Every time you bitch, you get punched in the face.

That's a pretty feasible deterrent, right?

This is our last election for awhile, the next one being the provincial one in 2013. Maybe a nice little year-and-a-half break from doing anything related to voting will be good for those suffering from voter fatigue.

We can only hope, world. We can only hope.

Ballots and Bitching,

Ginger.

WLW: Going Greek

I have made a fantastic discovery! Fantastic in my mind, anyway.

A few weeks ago, a co-worker and I discussed yogurt. Specifically, greek yogurt, which she had recently tried and absolutely loved. Mixed with fruit, she said, was a most satisfying breakfast.

I'd actually forgotten about that conversation until I was wandering around the grocery store in a vain attempt to find something interesting to eat. I was in the yogurt section, about to grab my usual lemon flavoured, low-fat, no-sugar brand, when I spotted some little tubs of the aforementioned greek yogurt.

Now, I'd been eating the now-fat, no-sugar yogurt mostly due to the low calorie count of the product. Which is kind of ridonkulous when I've been trying to get away from over-processed food by avoiding calorie-wise anything. So why the hell was I still eating the fake yogurt when I've been eating (reasonable portions of) real salad dressing, mayo, sour cream and everything else?

Upon perusing the nutrition labels, I found that the greek yogurt has a few less calories per serving than the full fat, full sugar yogurt, and far more protein as well. Alright, I said, I'll give it a shot. I picked out the strawberry kind – stick with a familiar flavour, I figured – got some bananas and strawberries (my yogurt staples) and toddled off home to await the morn.

Holy shitballs, it was amazing.

Soooooo yummy....

It's thick and creamy, the strawberry takes away the tartness, and it had more protein than my usual bacon and eggs – and less grease.

Wow, I just wrote a lot about yogurt....

I wish I could tell you I posted a loss today. In fact, as of Sunday I was all set to do so. I was down from what I'd been the past few weeks, and was looking forward to actually writing it this week.

But no. My weight had other ideas.

It's my own fault, really. I had the absolute shittiest day at work yesterday, awesome yogurt or no, and decided that I just wantedcheese and crackers for dinner. A lot of cheese and crackers.

mmmmm, cheese.

The logic behind it was 'surely having cheeseand crackers for dinner is better than going and getting a cheeseburger and poutine, right?' Because I really wanted a fucking cheeseburger and poutine, you have no idea.

So for the fourth week in a row (holy fuck!??!) I sit at 225 lbs. I'm getting seriously annoyed now.

I thought I did alright this last week – I didn't even drink at a derby get-together just because I wanted to post a loss! Okay, I had a couple Mexican Snickerdoodles and bread, but I've had worse than that with still posting a loss! Not recently, obviously, but it has happened. Plus! I've started doing step and stuff! Doesn't that count for anything?!!?

Rawr, says I. Rawr.

Maybe I should start doing the weekly weigh in on Mondays, and then just post that number here on Wednesdays?

Anyhoo, off to eat a nice salad and some chicken for dinner... 'cause I'm good like that.

Peace and Love,

Ginger

WLW: That First Step

I'm really going to hate that blonde bitch in the step aerobics DVD. I can already tell. She's far too peppy for someone that's clearly trying to kill me.

My sister and I started our step aerobics journey last night, in case you couldn't tell. We follow a DVD down in her basement, which the cat and dog watch and most likely mock us in cat- and dog-speak.

You would think that as a dancer, I'd pick up on this fairly quickly. I do it all the time at dance workshops and whatnot, doing step should be a breeze!

Oh, hell no.

Steps are evil, just look at it!

I nearly fell off the step at least three times... this would be why the blonde lady said to look down at the step once in a while. I couldn't coordinate my right foot with my left, and I'm pretty sure I did most of the moves backwards.

But I got my heart rate up, which was the whole point, I guess.

So we're going to do this twice a week for a while and see how it goes. My hope is 'very well.'

After all that exercise from Sk8fest this weekend, plus all the not-eating from being sick the week before, that I would be down something this week. Oh no. I am exactly what I was a week ago. Still only down 10 pounds. Still fuming at the scale.

At least I know I can maintain.

But enough of this bullshit. Time to throw myself back on the wagon and stop fucking around. I know I say that every week, but I really mean it this time! Really!

It should be a lot easier now, what with my weekend getaways all done for a few months. I'm so sick of restaurant food, even though I had some pretty good restaurant food in PG, I still don't want to eat it for three meals a day.

So, the goals are to eat at home so I can control what I eat and how it's made, and to continue with step, bellydance and do some laps at the walking track.

Sounds good to me.

Step and step,

Ginger.

Sk8Fest!

Holy god, am I ever sore...

I haven't been in a bout since August, and haven't done much skating since then either. So after Sk8fest this weekend, I am hurting today.

It's good pain, though – good make-me-walk-all-stiff-at-work-and-make-people-stare-at-me-funny pain.

Let me start with saying I'm actually pretty impressed with the Roll A Dome. Having any sort of year-round skating facility would be a dream come true for my league, even one that's been around so long that my own mother used to skate there when she was a child. That was the most bizarre thing for me – knowing I was roller skating where mom used to roller skate. It's kinda meta.

Plus, you know, the racks of the roller skate equivalent of bowling shoes. I like weird shit like that.

Brown and orange, totally retro.

But I actually liked the floor. It's stickier than the polished concrete I'm used to, but I felt like I could get more speed and not go sliding into the wall or on my face if I did. So that was kinda cool.

The bootcamp was a good length, I thought. Especially since I was still on the tail end of that head cold and probably would have passed out in a corner if it had been any longer. It's hard to breathe through your mouth when you're biting down on a big chunk of plastic.

Team Canada skaters Luludemon and EightMean Wheeler were awesome teachers in the ways of derby. They made a very excellent point when it came to crossovers – I clearly have not been doing them in an efficient manner, which is why my one leg gets so tired. I kinda want to do the endurance skate again and try doing my crossovers the way lulu showed us. Both legs need to work together. This is key!

The bout later that evening saw skaters from Energetic City Roller Derby (duh.), Oil City Derby Girls, Lake City Derby Girls, Gold Pain City Derby Girls and our wonderful hosts, the Rated PG Rollergirls. I think that's all the leagues that were there, anyway. Someone tell me if I missed any, please?

RPGRG used the event to raise money for cancer research, after losing one of their skaters to colon cancer back in the summer. The white team won the right to wear Canadian Cancer Society underpants during the game, which I think was pretty cool. Any time we can give back like this is time well spent.

As a wise man once said, kick cancer in the face with a skate!

The bout was super fun,and super close right up to about the last few jams. There was a nice mix of newbies and experienced players and, at least on the white team, we all got pretty equal playing time. I throughly enjoyed being on lines with several different girls with different skill levels. I mean really, if I can't learn anything from the more experienced players, then what's the point? I even got to be on the first line, lucky me.

Oh! And I finally got to sit in the penalty box! Not once, but twice! Two majors! Heeeee! My mom called me a goon.

Like I said, I like weird shit.

The final score after it was all said and done was 133-173, which made for a pretty awesome game. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

ECRDA represents!

After taking a few trips with my derbies, I've come to a few conclusions about roller derby road trips.

1. Be prepared to spend money on stuff you probably don't need, especially of you're going to a city larger than your own that has a real mall.

2. Always make sure you have cash to get swag at the bout. Not every venue will have an ATM and you will want a t-shirt.

3. If you're sharing a hotel room with four girls that all snore, bring earplugs and try to fall asleep first. Heaven help the girl that falls asleep last.

4. You will eat fewer meals than you normally would, so bring some snacks. And water. For love of god, don't get dehydrated!

5. You will increase your Facebook friends list be at least a few names afterwards. And that's cool beans.

So that's all I got to say about that. I leave you with the greatest thing you will ever watch... roller derby ponies!!!!!

Jams and Blocks,

Ginger.

WLW: And it finally catches up...

I knew I jinxed myself last week. I just fucking knew it.

A lovely sinus cold has creeped its way into my face, turning my nose into a faucet and my throat to sandpaper. This is totally not cool, since I'm going to PG on Friday and I want to actually enjoy myself and learn something at Sk8fest.

A coworker had the same cold a couple weeks ago, and I think she got over it in, something like, three days? Maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part, since I have no intention of bailing on Sk8fest, but I still want to have the energy to participate in both the boot camp and the bout.

Which is why I'm going to drink my NeoCitran like a good girl and get lots of sleep between now and the time I leave. And if I'm still not feeling up to snuff, I'll just ingest a lot of daytime cold medicine... hell, it might help with my skating!

As of this morning, I'm still sitting at 225lbs, which is bizzare since I've barely eaten anything since Saturday. When I feel like crap, I only want to eat my comfort foods. But since I've taken myself off of mushroom rice (oh how I miss you!), I'm relying on soup to fill that void. So between all the water and soup, you'd think I'd be down SOMETHING! But no, scale is being a total bitch today.

Maybe it's due to the nutritional black hole I've been consuming:

Pictured: A Nutritional Black Hole

This shit has all the nutritional value of a lego block, but it's easy on my stomach, which hasn't been to happy lately, and it's nice to my throat. So I eat it.

My sister and I were going to start doing step aerobics yesterday, but that kinda fell by the wayside as we were both feeling like hammered shit. Hopefully I'm feeling better tomorrow and she's feeling better tomorrow so we can get started.

So I'm gonna go boil some more water and choke down that vile NeoCitran and get this cold out of my system. Wish me luck!

Kleenex and Cold Medicine,

Ginger.

Hallowe'en!!!

I love Hallowe'en!

Any time I get the opportunity to dress up as something scary is an amazing time in my books.

Up until Saturday night, I hadn't actually gone out for Hallowe'en since 2008, which thinking about makes die a little bit on the inside... the last couple years were so hard for me, not going out and partying like a zombie. I didn't have many friends to hang with after Hallowe'en 2008, since they all moved away. So I spent 2009 and 2010 at home, eating candy, getting fat and telling myself that all those fuckers at the parties around town weren't having as good a time as I figured they were.

This year I said 'Fuck that noise!' and got a ticket for one of the parties. Fortunately, a couple of my derbies were going to, so I didn't have to go by myself and be a loser in the corner! Hooray!

A few weeks ago I went perusing my closet to try and put together a costume for the party. I figured I could just be a Scary Fairy again, but may switch it up by using a different dress.

Well, as it turns out, all that candy eating made me too fat to wear any of the stuff I wore in 2008. And since I really didn't want to half-ass it, I turned to the Internet to try and find something, anything to wear.

I found a pretty sweet costume, one I wouldn't have thought of getting, but worked out very well, as you can see:

A female Freddy Krueger. With her next victim.... mwahahaha!

I didn't see any other Freddy at the party I was at, so yay for being semi-original!

It was definitely worth it, it revived my love of Hallowe'en, and all was right in Ginger's world.

So scare the hell outta some kids and pop in a scary movie, Happy Hallowe'en!

Tricks and Treats,

Ginger

WLW: Expectations

Brace yourself – I'm talking about food again.

I fully expected to come out of this weekend with a gain.

I mean, how could I not? I was down in Vancouver for a meeting with free beer and free food! Combined with two rather late nights with very early mornings (who came up with idea that delegates coming in from out of town should have be actually awake and lucid for breakfast at 7:30 a.m.?!!?), I'm surprised I'm not full on sick right now.

Of course, I probably just jinxed myself, butI digress.

I was on an executive floor in the Holiday Inn Downtown Vancouver, with a king sized bed (yay!) and a floor to ceiling mirror that really wasn't too forgiving. Yikes. Here's the view from my room:

Good thing I'd found out ahead of time where we were staying,

I originally thought it was across the street...

It feels like all I do at these things is eat. There are designated times for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And this time, it was all buffet style. Oh sweet jesus, do you know how hard it is to resist going back for seconds when food tastes that good?

The banquet dinner was spectacular. Seafood, chicken, pasta.... that spinach canneloni was to die for.

Hell, even the one meal I had to pay for at Joeys was amazing. My steak was perfect, and they have something called crispy mashed potatoes. What's a crispy mashed potato, you ask? Well it's mashed potatoes, wrapped up in a spring roll, fried, then topped with sour cream and bacon bits. And not those crappy little simulated bacon bits – like bacon bits that used to be whole strips of bacon. Fucking delicious. And brilliant!

I love bacon, can you tell? Had a lot of that, too.

Then there's the booze. First night, hospitality room. Free beer! Have as much as you want! I think I only had two, just because I hadn't eaten yet and was halfway gone after just those two. But then at dinner I just had to try the Super Sonic Gin and Tonic the waiter suggested. Look at the name, I had to try it. It was basically a G&T with slush. They add slush to all their drinks. Very odd.

So aside from the food and booze, there were other awesome things about the weekend. I got to see some friends I haven't seen in years, which was yay! Hanging with those friends and their other friends, I came to the stunning realization that I'm not a club girl in any sense of the word. I went out wearing jeans, a regular black shirt, a new cardigan and my new sketchers, while many of the other girls there were in five inch heels, miniskirts and sparkly tops with their tits out to here. In comparison, I looked like I was in my pyjamas.

In da club!

Not so much.

I'm okay with that though, I like pyjamas.

I also did a little shopping, because retail therapy always makes me feel better.

So I did gain, most likely from beer bloat. Just to show I'm not wussing out again, I am, as of this week, only down 10 lbs total. Which sucks, but I had a good time this weekend. It was worth it.

I think I should make some kind of long term goal. I'd really like the be down 25 lbs by the New Year. Which will be exceedingly difficult as we're moving into the season of Halloween candy and Christmas parties. Oh, and that order I just put in for Purdy's Chocolates. But, I think I can do it. And with roller derby being done until March, I need to find some other physical activity.

I did go to the walking track last night for about an hour – I even tried running a lap! And I ran the whole lap without stopping. I could've done more, but I forgot my inhaler and got all wheezy. I'm going to try and do more running laps when I go walking laps.

We'll see how things go. It's Halloween party weekend, which means more booze, but I'm going to stick with the G&Ts so we can avoid the beer bloat. I will have photos to share of my kick ass costume later next week.

So I'm going to get back on track, I already started today. I'm finding that my soup n' salad lunch wasn't doing it for me, so I'm going back to my salad and protein regiment.

You know, I just realized I only said Fuck once in this post... how fucking weird is that?!

Food and booze,

Ginger

Bright Lights, Big City

I went to Vancouver this weekend for some meetings and other such stuff, and took my Nikon for a little walk around the streets near my hotel.

See, I have thing thing about neon signs at night. I don't know, something about the super bright colours against the darkness just does it for me. Maybe it stems from playing with a Lite Brite as a kid... that thing was amazing!

Soooo, yeah. Now onto MY photos!

Looking down Granville Street

A camera store! That wasn't open. Lame.

Who wants another tattoo?!

I just loved that there was a place called Speakeasy.

Oh come on, Orphium!

You couldn't have all the lights working just for one night?!

I hear you get what you pay for...

I'm in vogue, really.

Mmmmmm.... hot dogs.

I enjoy this blue saxaphone.

I hope to get back to the city sooner than two years from now. I throughly enjoy street photography. I like some of these so much, I may just have them printed off and framed... we shall see.

Brights and Lights,

Ginger.

WLW: Back on a Track...

I had an overwhelming urge to get up off my ass on Saturday and go to the walking track.

I couldn't shake it, and normally I'm pretty good at ignoring the desire to get off the couch when I'm trying to read a book. But not on Saturday. So I gave in and toddled myself down to go for an indoor walk.

A year ago I would go to the track a few days every week, or at least try to. Back then, all I really did for activity was, well, walk and dance practice. I had ceased running, so I needed to do something more.

On Saturday I noticed something about my stride. I don't have a very long stride, which I'm told is silly because my legs are so long I really ought to have a longer stride. But I don't. What I noticed was that my thighs didn't jiggle as much when I walked. Which is astounding since I carry a lot of weight on my thighs.

There was a little jiggle, but not nearly as much as there used to be. So yay for that.

I managed to do 19 laps. I was aiming for 20, but I was starting to hurt by 15, and I probably should have stopped at 17, but I pushed through two more laps. My biceps hurt, how much sense does that make?! Plus I think a blister is starting to form on my right heel. Gonna have to take care of that... blarg!

I think I have roller derby to thank for the not-so-jiggy thighs. All that skating has really built up the my quads, pretty soon I should be able to snap a man's neck with these babies! Or at least I would, except our season is over in a couple weeks, which is sad, but probably necessary.

Here's the girls doing a weaving drill through the pace line:

Wheeeee!

As for food, I pretty much fell off the wagon this weekend, goals be damned. It was my own fault though, I got so busy at work that I didn't have time to eat my lunch. On Thursday and Friday I only had an apple and one of those Soup to Go things, so by the end of the day I was completely ravenous... I didn't care what I was eating, just get some food in my goddamn stomach!

That led to one binge, then another, and then one more. Ugh. Very unpleasant. Then, on Monday, I did another bad thing and wound up having hot flashes all fucking day... I didn't know if I should stick my head in the trash can and puke, or just tear my clothes off.

I've had hot flashes since I was 16, so I'm used to them, but I usually get them at night... it's been many years since I had one during the day. Once they passed, I couldn't bring myself to eat anything because I felt so shitty, so I went hungry the rest of the day.

From one extreme to another: binge, then starve. That's a bad Ginger! Bad!

I don't really want to share my weight this week. It's made me not too happy with myself, so I'm going to use the Golden Power of Fuck-You-I'm-Not-Sharing. I gained, and that's all I feel like sharing this week.

I could probably chalk it up to hormones, but that feels like the bitch way out. No, it's just me, being stupid.

How about if I make the goal this week to not let myself get so hungry that I gorge when I get home. Or, If I'm going to, make sure it's not on Quiznos or something else that's going to ruin me for another week. Like carrots.

This is actually going to be incredibly difficult seeing as I'm heading down to Vancouver this weekend for a meeting thing... nothing but restaurant food all weekend. I feel nauseous already.

Wish me luck.

Ginger.

Hands

Musician hands, to be exact. Some are sharp, some are not. Like I said in a previous post, I'm astounded by those that can actually play a musical instrument. I couldn't even play the ukulele in grade school. Well, that's not entire true... I memorized where my finger were supposed to be for the first few chords of a song called Country Gardens or something. I had no idea what chords I was playing.

So, anyhoo, here's a few photos from Spotlight 2011.

D'ari

Dayna Manning

Dave Tolley

Naomi Shore

Lindsay Pratt

Gidd Hampton

The Willms

WLW: Giving thanks

The Thanksgiving meal really is wasted on me.

I'm not a fan of turkey, unless it's covered in salt and swimming in gravy. I hate stuffing, and I don't really like anything pumpkin flavoured. And my sister makes me eat a brussels sprout. Barf!

But she makes a good meal, and I appreciate her willingness to feed me.

A turkey meal in general, however.... meh. I'd pick chicken over turkey any day. Or, better yet... Ham. Like a real ham... mmm, now that's delicious.

Especially with scrambled eggs and cheese... oh,so fucking good!

Where was I?

Oh right, giving an update.

Long weekends are awesome. We should have them every weekend.

I took in the Spotlight 2011 thing at the NPCC on Saturday, went batshit with my camera. I do so love taking photos and getting paid for it. I also love that the ISO on this thing can go up to 6400, making it ideal to shoot in low lighting situations, such as the theatre where le musicians were doing their thing.

Look, a microphone!

I also went a little nuts taking pictures of people's hands. I don't know why. Maybe because I can't play a musical instrument to save my life and I'm astounded by those who can? I might just do a post of nothing but photos of hands. Super deep, right?

Then I had a bellydance workshop on Sunday and learned a new drum solo from this lady. She's awesome, I recommend her. After that was the aforementioned meal. Yay for my sister!

I'm sitting here, trying to remember what I did on Monday, and I'm drawing a blank... I know I went to my sister's house again to catch up on TV I've missed, but beyond that, I don't really recall what I did... must now have been important. Or productive.

Bleh.

Have I mentioned how much I don't miss going to city council meetings? Because I don't miss it. At all. But I guess I needed a little reminder and sat through my first one in almost a year last night. So goddamn boring!

Does anyone else find it funny that this WLW wasn't really about food, except for the first part? Is that a good thing? Am I moving past my obsession with food and spending my time thinking about other stuff? Or is it that I'm just too damn tired to try and remember what I did or didn't eat during the past week and how it made me feel?

Or am I just asking too may questions?

That's probably it.

Anyhooooooo....

It was probably a good thing I didn't check in last week, since after returning from a weekend in PG I felt so ill from eating nothing but restaurant food, I probably would have cried after stepping on the scale. Luckily the flu tried creeping on me, probably from breathing in all that recirculated air on the plane, but I kicked its ass! Go me!

So what's the damage this week?

Last time we checked in I was at 220.7 lbs. This week's total is...

*bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

220.5 lbs

We have hit the 15 pound mark, muthafuckaaaaaas!

I'm going to set a goal this week, since I haven't done that for awhile, and when I used to, it seemed to help. By next week, I am going to be out of the 220s. That is the goal. I don't care if I'm at 219.9, as long as I'm not in the 220s anymore.

Wish me luck.

Meetings and Restaurants,

Ginger.