This blog is, at least. I've started a new blog mainly about this crazy idea I had about completing a marathon. Come visit me there at Run. Or Die Trying. Where I'll be running. Or dying trying.
Ciao for now,
the CilleyRunningGirl
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Hello sports fans!
Or my fans. All two of you. I'm gearing up for what I hope will become a series on my blog, but (a) this is the week I started serious training for my August 5K goal and (b) the series is something that I may not enjoy (you'll understand later) so after putting in ten miles this week I think it will have to wait until my rest day on Friday.
In the meantime, let your imagination run wild!
Ta,
the CilleyGirl
In the meantime, let your imagination run wild!
Ta,
the CilleyGirl
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Identity crisis.
Still here. Still trying to figure out what to title this thing. Decided the last was a little too esoteric. Or maybe esoteric isn't the right word? Yes, Merriam-Webster tells me it is. Apparently the definition of esoteric is too esoteric for me?
Will try to get my act together and post.... something. I have a list.
--the CilleyGirl
Will try to get my act together and post.... something. I have a list.
--the CilleyGirl
Monday, April 13, 2009
Coffee, tea, or me
I never used to drink tea until fairly recently. Growing up -- particularly growing up in Seattle -- I always wanted to be a tea-drinker since everyone else (the adults, at least) drank coffee. I thought it would make me special, exotic, sophisticated, something. Of course, this was way before the birth of Starbucks, etc., so none of my friends drank coffee either. Or, if you did, you were weird, or a poseur -- basically, the character you were supposed to be rooting for in a John Hughes movie.
So I tried tea and couldn't stand it. Either tea has improved or I was trying crappy tea for all those years, but it always tasted like barely flavored hot water to me. Though I'm pretty sure I never tried putting anything in it. The atmosphere around me was that to put anything in your coffee was a sissy thing to do -- my mother was such a girl because she put in two sugars and cream -- so my young mind associated that with tea as well. And I never wanted to be a girl. At least, in the obviously, sissy-girly way. A real girl liked pink but no frills and could not only cook and clean and sew but change a carburator, hunt, fish (baiting your own hook and cleaning the damn things too), throw a baseball (NOT like a girl) and a punch. Et cetera. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say my stepfather had issues.
Anyhow, I also wanted to drink coffee (in a covert kind of way) because I wanted to be Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. She not only drank coffee (and probably tea) but she had Andrew McCarthy and James Spader after her. And -- although I didn't appreciate this much until I was a lot older -- Jon Cryder. I thought that I would take a sip and magically! find that I loved it. All the cool kids would notice and I'd get invited to all the cool parties and my closet would have cool clothes and my breasts would be a cool size. I also had this idea not only about coffee and tea, but beer as well. That's a lot to lay at the feet of a beverage.
Do beverages have feet? I know wine is supposed to have legs...
Back to the story. Like everyone around me (mostly my parents) said, you have to develop a taste for these things, and eventually I did. Beer was first. Sophomore year in college I came to like the stuff, although for a few years it was only the stuff out of a keg -- which was probably the cheapeast-ass beer around. I still tend to prefer PBR over a microbrew. Coffee came next. I had the first cup I actually liked in my senior year of college during an all-nighter for a 400-level macroeconomics course. I also had hallucinatory-like dreams around that time of being trapped in an X-Y bar graph depicting gross national product, but I'm sure those aren't related. Tea came last, within the past year or so.
I officially developed a taste for it at a real British tea shop here in CilleyLand, where I also learned that putting milk in tea can be tasty. Ironically, I had moved out of Seattle before I learned to like coffee, and well, this isn't ironic at all since I live in CilleyLand which is the home of not only Tazo tea but Stash as well. Hmm, another point there for a possible Cilley brain tumor. Not really any irony with the beer thing; I was at college.
I sit here now sipping Raspberry Red Zinger, with two splendas. I would've felt that this particular tea called for honey but (a) we're almost out and (b) I started today with my resolution to keep a food diary and honey has calories. I think it only needed one, however. It's kind of sweet.
As a side note, I still will not drink tea or coffee first thing in the morning (I may or may not drink beer, it hasn't really come up as an issue yet). I do not like hot beverages first thing. Doesn't even matter when that morning is. It could be 5 PM when I get up and still, I want a diet coke. I have no idea why. You'd think the real girl thing to do would be to scald something first thing in the morning. But I also will not drink iced tea or iced coffee. Ever. I may still have a thing for James Spader but I don't care if Molly drinks it or not. That's just gross.
-- the Cilley tea drinking girl (who will be having a diet coke after the tea, FYI)
So I tried tea and couldn't stand it. Either tea has improved or I was trying crappy tea for all those years, but it always tasted like barely flavored hot water to me. Though I'm pretty sure I never tried putting anything in it. The atmosphere around me was that to put anything in your coffee was a sissy thing to do -- my mother was such a girl because she put in two sugars and cream -- so my young mind associated that with tea as well. And I never wanted to be a girl. At least, in the obviously, sissy-girly way. A real girl liked pink but no frills and could not only cook and clean and sew but change a carburator, hunt, fish (baiting your own hook and cleaning the damn things too), throw a baseball (NOT like a girl) and a punch. Et cetera. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say my stepfather had issues.
Anyhow, I also wanted to drink coffee (in a covert kind of way) because I wanted to be Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. She not only drank coffee (and probably tea) but she had Andrew McCarthy and James Spader after her. And -- although I didn't appreciate this much until I was a lot older -- Jon Cryder. I thought that I would take a sip and magically! find that I loved it. All the cool kids would notice and I'd get invited to all the cool parties and my closet would have cool clothes and my breasts would be a cool size. I also had this idea not only about coffee and tea, but beer as well. That's a lot to lay at the feet of a beverage.
Do beverages have feet? I know wine is supposed to have legs...
Back to the story. Like everyone around me (mostly my parents) said, you have to develop a taste for these things, and eventually I did. Beer was first. Sophomore year in college I came to like the stuff, although for a few years it was only the stuff out of a keg -- which was probably the cheapeast-ass beer around. I still tend to prefer PBR over a microbrew. Coffee came next. I had the first cup I actually liked in my senior year of college during an all-nighter for a 400-level macroeconomics course. I also had hallucinatory-like dreams around that time of being trapped in an X-Y bar graph depicting gross national product, but I'm sure those aren't related. Tea came last, within the past year or so.
I officially developed a taste for it at a real British tea shop here in CilleyLand, where I also learned that putting milk in tea can be tasty. Ironically, I had moved out of Seattle before I learned to like coffee, and well, this isn't ironic at all since I live in CilleyLand which is the home of not only Tazo tea but Stash as well. Hmm, another point there for a possible Cilley brain tumor. Not really any irony with the beer thing; I was at college.
I sit here now sipping Raspberry Red Zinger, with two splendas. I would've felt that this particular tea called for honey but (a) we're almost out and (b) I started today with my resolution to keep a food diary and honey has calories. I think it only needed one, however. It's kind of sweet.
As a side note, I still will not drink tea or coffee first thing in the morning (I may or may not drink beer, it hasn't really come up as an issue yet). I do not like hot beverages first thing. Doesn't even matter when that morning is. It could be 5 PM when I get up and still, I want a diet coke. I have no idea why. You'd think the real girl thing to do would be to scald something first thing in the morning. But I also will not drink iced tea or iced coffee. Ever. I may still have a thing for James Spader but I don't care if Molly drinks it or not. That's just gross.
-- the Cilley tea drinking girl (who will be having a diet coke after the tea, FYI)
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Changing my focus.
I decided to rename my blog today, after a stupid joke I made up* last night trying to recover from two days of sleep deprivation. Originally it was "Two priests walk into a bar. The third one ducks." Then I thought about "Two priests walk into a bar. An atheist ducks." Because I'm not religious. Or at least I think humans have screwed up religion which has left me with a strong disdain for it. That's another blog post, however.
Anyhow, I recently went back and re-read all of my posts and did some editing, with an eye towards other people actually reading this one day. Which may or may not include those I was bitching about. "Under my skin" was the second incarnation of this blog's title, and at that time became the place where I complained about those who had gotten under my skin; the blog was how I went about extracting them. After going back in time on the blog, I realized that I've also become a much happier person these days and therefore less inclined to let others get to me. So I've got a new title, one that I think illustrates perfectly my mental bent.
Yours, all bendy and stuff,
the CilleyGirl
*I may not have actually made up that joke. But since I've never heard it before, I'm claiming authorship from here on out. I had some others about lizards being snakes with legs (which I heard from Bill Engvall) and then the natural question of whether turtles are just birds without accessories (that part I did make up), but all of the rest were lost to sleep. It's probably a good thing.
Anyhow, I recently went back and re-read all of my posts and did some editing, with an eye towards other people actually reading this one day. Which may or may not include those I was bitching about. "Under my skin" was the second incarnation of this blog's title, and at that time became the place where I complained about those who had gotten under my skin; the blog was how I went about extracting them. After going back in time on the blog, I realized that I've also become a much happier person these days and therefore less inclined to let others get to me. So I've got a new title, one that I think illustrates perfectly my mental bent.
Yours, all bendy and stuff,
the CilleyGirl
*I may not have actually made up that joke. But since I've never heard it before, I'm claiming authorship from here on out. I had some others about lizards being snakes with legs (which I heard from Bill Engvall) and then the natural question of whether turtles are just birds without accessories (that part I did make up), but all of the rest were lost to sleep. It's probably a good thing.
Friday, April 03, 2009
So far, not bad
As I mentioned previously, I found my new year resolutions the other day. Here's what I had, and where I am so far.
- Run a 5K by the end of summer.
I thought this was better than the typical "exercise" or "lose weight" resolutions. I've done three races so far this year -- two 5Ks and one 5-miler, walking about half and jogging about half -- and I have three more planned for April, including one this Sunday. I can easily do one minute jogging, two minutes walking intervals and I'm going to bump that up to 1:30 the next time I train. In my last training workout, though, I pushed farther than I have before and felt pretty good afterward, so once the weather is dryer on a more regular basis I hope to bump up my intervals fairly quickly.
- Learn how to use my digital SLR.
I'd been wanting a digital SLR for years and last year I finally got one. I love it, but I've barely scratched the surface of what I can do with it. For example, I can't figure out how to set the f-stops manually, so the last two sets of pictures I took were mostly overexposed. I've got a book about digital SLRs, as well as the camera's manual, but have yet to start in on this one.
- Try something new.
This one I've done, and done really well. I joined a winter kickball league and learned to play second base for it. While I'm not an all-star player, by the end of the season I was solid in the position and looking forward to do it again later in the year. I also started tai chi this week, and will start bellydancing classes next week. Lastly, I started running 5Ks. The more new things I do, the more I want to do. Which plays havoc with my next resolution.
- Spend more responsibly.
I've done so-so with this one. I've been good about not buying lots of books or clothes. I have spent more on sports, and along with that spent more going out. I also haven't been much better in spending on food, although I have been pretty good about not eating out as much during the week. I have to start keeping a food diary again so I can focus more on healthy eating, which in turn tends to rein in my spending on food. It should also help rein in the amount of alcohol as well. I can say I have also managed not to buy a new HDTV, but it's been very, very hard.
- Write.
I originally envisioned I'd meet this one by blogging. I have been keeping up more with friends, via Facebook (which goes to the next goal as well), but I want to do more substantive writing. Not only am I more creative that way, but it's good therapy.
- Be more social.
This one I've also blown out of the water. I've gotten to know lots of people through kickball and bowling, and two friends I've made there have become running buddies so I've enjoyed getting to know them even better. I hope to make more friends through tai chi and bellydancing as well.
- Stop interrupting people.
I have a bad habit of finishing other people's thoughts. A large part of that is that I know where their thoughts are going and they're taking too damn long to get there. So maybe it's really a goal to be more patient. Also in there is a desire to be heard. Often if I don't jump in to a conversation, I never get to say anything. Growing up, I had to assert myself and that is definitely a core character trait of mine. So, people, please think and express yourselves more quickly and help me make this goal.
Those are my goals for 2009. I'll have to check back in with more updates later. Cheers!
--the CilleyGirl
- Run a 5K by the end of summer.
I thought this was better than the typical "exercise" or "lose weight" resolutions. I've done three races so far this year -- two 5Ks and one 5-miler, walking about half and jogging about half -- and I have three more planned for April, including one this Sunday. I can easily do one minute jogging, two minutes walking intervals and I'm going to bump that up to 1:30 the next time I train. In my last training workout, though, I pushed farther than I have before and felt pretty good afterward, so once the weather is dryer on a more regular basis I hope to bump up my intervals fairly quickly.
- Learn how to use my digital SLR.
I'd been wanting a digital SLR for years and last year I finally got one. I love it, but I've barely scratched the surface of what I can do with it. For example, I can't figure out how to set the f-stops manually, so the last two sets of pictures I took were mostly overexposed. I've got a book about digital SLRs, as well as the camera's manual, but have yet to start in on this one.
- Try something new.
This one I've done, and done really well. I joined a winter kickball league and learned to play second base for it. While I'm not an all-star player, by the end of the season I was solid in the position and looking forward to do it again later in the year. I also started tai chi this week, and will start bellydancing classes next week. Lastly, I started running 5Ks. The more new things I do, the more I want to do. Which plays havoc with my next resolution.
- Spend more responsibly.
I've done so-so with this one. I've been good about not buying lots of books or clothes. I have spent more on sports, and along with that spent more going out. I also haven't been much better in spending on food, although I have been pretty good about not eating out as much during the week. I have to start keeping a food diary again so I can focus more on healthy eating, which in turn tends to rein in my spending on food. It should also help rein in the amount of alcohol as well. I can say I have also managed not to buy a new HDTV, but it's been very, very hard.
- Write.
I originally envisioned I'd meet this one by blogging. I have been keeping up more with friends, via Facebook (which goes to the next goal as well), but I want to do more substantive writing. Not only am I more creative that way, but it's good therapy.
- Be more social.
This one I've also blown out of the water. I've gotten to know lots of people through kickball and bowling, and two friends I've made there have become running buddies so I've enjoyed getting to know them even better. I hope to make more friends through tai chi and bellydancing as well.
- Stop interrupting people.
I have a bad habit of finishing other people's thoughts. A large part of that is that I know where their thoughts are going and they're taking too damn long to get there. So maybe it's really a goal to be more patient. Also in there is a desire to be heard. Often if I don't jump in to a conversation, I never get to say anything. Growing up, I had to assert myself and that is definitely a core character trait of mine. So, people, please think and express yourselves more quickly and help me make this goal.
Those are my goals for 2009. I'll have to check back in with more updates later. Cheers!
--the CilleyGirl
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Cousin Willie is off his meds again
I've always imagined* that it isn't Mother Nature who controls the weather but rather her nephew, Willie. Which for our purposes makes him Cousin Willy. Mother Nature has a lot of stuff to worry about, what with global warming and the ozone layer, so it makes sense that she would delegate the more routine aspects of her job off to family members. Mother's sister Bertha was always complaining about how Willie needed something to occupy his time -- other than Facebook -- so she asked Mother to help out. Mother decided Willie could handle the weather (plus she's a fan of alliteration; Bertha handles, among other things, bunnies, bacteria, and the biosphere) so now Cousin Willie works the weather. But today, at least here in CilleyLand, Willie must be off his meds because our weather is extremely schizophrenic. We've had rain, clouds, sun, downpours, and every mix of those you can think of. And it's only 3:00 p.m.
I haven't been around much because I've been trying to get healthy. Already this year I've had two serious colds, the first of which resulted in not only a sinus infection like all the others but also my doctor saying she was sick of seeing me (I've had at least six courses of antibiotics in the past year) and consequently she sent me off to an allergist. Who put me on prednisone. Which suppresses your immune system. So I promptly got sick. Again. And ended up back at the allergist. Who put me on prednisone. I told him I'm starting to get wise to his racket.
Seriously, though, prednisone also reduces inflammation, which is why I'm on it to get my sinuses better, at which time we will then work to keep them that way. I got to get one of those allergy scratch tests on my arm, where they stick you with 40 different types of common allergens and then see if you have an allergic reaction. It was actually pretty interesting, once I got over the squeeee factor of having dust mites and mold and mildew stuck into my arm.
The test confirmed pretty much what I already knew, which is that I'm allergic to a few trees, some grasses, dust mites, molds and mildews, and cats. Very, very allergic to cats, as it turns out; other than the histamine control stick (that one is supposed to swell up), the cat spot swelled up the most out of everything. So although I miss my kitty very much, it's probably better that I no longer have cats for the first time in my life. This was emphasized the other night when I forgot about my cat allergy for the minute it took me to sit down and pet my friend's cat.
Turns out I'm not allergic to dogs, which made my two dogs happy. I do wonder if living with two dogs could have skewed the test somewhat, as in constant exposure resulted in no reaction. When I had the test, my cat had been gone about six months so that was mostly out of my system by then (I still need to do some severe cleaning under my bed).
I was also playing on a kickball league earlier in the year, and still bowling. I'm taking the spring season and maybe the summer season off from Underdog, however, since in an effort to combat my rampant insomnia I took up running. Or rather I took up working up towards running. I just started tai chi and belly dancing will start next week.
The exercise also ties into my health. The insomnia is a side effect of my sinus problems. The sinus problems lead to frequent colds. The colds lead to sinus infections. Lather, rinse repeat. I'm sick of being sick. I also have been having problems with my left eye, so I have to see a neuro-opthamalogist in a couple of months. You know, to see if I have a brain tumor. I'm hoping it's all another side effect of my sinus infections and that that will resolve itself.
All of this (except for Cousin Willie) has to do with the goals I set for the new year. One of them is to run a 5K by the end of summer. I've already done two 5Ks and one 5-mile race this year, with at least three more 5Ks scheduled this month. Another goal was to step more outside my comfort zone; hence the kickball and the tai chi and the belly dancing.
I also want to be more creative this year. Hey, maybe Cousin Willie does qualify! One way I anticipated doing that was to blog more, or at least more regularly. I also need to take up my needlepointing again so I can finish her quilt before my niece is in her teens.
I'll have to formally post my goals here (I just found them the other day) so I know where I am and where I'm going. A nice side effect of all of this has been I'm making new friends. Two of them have started running with me, and it has been great getting to know them better. I'm also a lot happier. Which helps to make friends and to not be sick.
Yours in health,
the CilleyGirl
*Technically I haven't always imagined, since I came up with this about two hours ago. But I'm adopting it into my belief system from this point forward.
I haven't been around much because I've been trying to get healthy. Already this year I've had two serious colds, the first of which resulted in not only a sinus infection like all the others but also my doctor saying she was sick of seeing me (I've had at least six courses of antibiotics in the past year) and consequently she sent me off to an allergist. Who put me on prednisone. Which suppresses your immune system. So I promptly got sick. Again. And ended up back at the allergist. Who put me on prednisone. I told him I'm starting to get wise to his racket.
Seriously, though, prednisone also reduces inflammation, which is why I'm on it to get my sinuses better, at which time we will then work to keep them that way. I got to get one of those allergy scratch tests on my arm, where they stick you with 40 different types of common allergens and then see if you have an allergic reaction. It was actually pretty interesting, once I got over the squeeee factor of having dust mites and mold and mildew stuck into my arm.
The test confirmed pretty much what I already knew, which is that I'm allergic to a few trees, some grasses, dust mites, molds and mildews, and cats. Very, very allergic to cats, as it turns out; other than the histamine control stick (that one is supposed to swell up), the cat spot swelled up the most out of everything. So although I miss my kitty very much, it's probably better that I no longer have cats for the first time in my life. This was emphasized the other night when I forgot about my cat allergy for the minute it took me to sit down and pet my friend's cat.
Turns out I'm not allergic to dogs, which made my two dogs happy. I do wonder if living with two dogs could have skewed the test somewhat, as in constant exposure resulted in no reaction. When I had the test, my cat had been gone about six months so that was mostly out of my system by then (I still need to do some severe cleaning under my bed).
I was also playing on a kickball league earlier in the year, and still bowling. I'm taking the spring season and maybe the summer season off from Underdog, however, since in an effort to combat my rampant insomnia I took up running. Or rather I took up working up towards running. I just started tai chi and belly dancing will start next week.
The exercise also ties into my health. The insomnia is a side effect of my sinus problems. The sinus problems lead to frequent colds. The colds lead to sinus infections. Lather, rinse repeat. I'm sick of being sick. I also have been having problems with my left eye, so I have to see a neuro-opthamalogist in a couple of months. You know, to see if I have a brain tumor. I'm hoping it's all another side effect of my sinus infections and that that will resolve itself.
All of this (except for Cousin Willie) has to do with the goals I set for the new year. One of them is to run a 5K by the end of summer. I've already done two 5Ks and one 5-mile race this year, with at least three more 5Ks scheduled this month. Another goal was to step more outside my comfort zone; hence the kickball and the tai chi and the belly dancing.
I also want to be more creative this year. Hey, maybe Cousin Willie does qualify! One way I anticipated doing that was to blog more, or at least more regularly. I also need to take up my needlepointing again so I can finish her quilt before my niece is in her teens.
I'll have to formally post my goals here (I just found them the other day) so I know where I am and where I'm going. A nice side effect of all of this has been I'm making new friends. Two of them have started running with me, and it has been great getting to know them better. I'm also a lot happier. Which helps to make friends and to not be sick.
Yours in health,
the CilleyGirl
*Technically I haven't always imagined, since I came up with this about two hours ago. But I'm adopting it into my belief system from this point forward.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
My booty is sick
Sick, sick, sick. As in ill. I'm home sick as I type this, having just spoken to the advice nurse at the clinic to set up an afternoon appointment. Going on three weeks with this one. Last time it was over two months. No no no no no.
So let's go on to The Biggest Loser while I wait for my appointment, yes?
Big drama starts out this week, as the screen is black but for the words "At elimination, Jillian's team promised they would vote for Joelle.... ... they didn't."
People filter into the house. There are tears. Screams. Heh. Hey, crying loses weight people. Joelle is perhaps most stunned of all. Bob's team believes they voted to keep Joelle to drag down their team. Filipe says the game play is on. Helen says they have to take back their team. I'm cracking up.
Zoom around to the at-home players. Aubrey exercises as she watches The Biggest Loser. Laura shakes her booty at a nightclub. Sione is drowning in sweat at the gym. Dave is smoking and eating. Back at the ranch, Bob's team is in the gym. He is surprised to see Joelle. During the workouts he says he's found that change in Joelle and now he's singing her tune.
Blaine's wife is having a baby and he gets to go home. His weigh in will still count so he should curl the baby or something.
Out on a football field, Chef Curtis Stone is there to teach the players how to cook healthy Super Bowl snacks. He is very cute and very Australian. I'd vote to eat him. The players have to guess how many calories are in favorite football day snacks. The person who gets the closest to without going over gets Curtis to teach them how to cook these snacks healthy. Again, I vote for eating Curtis. He looks delicious. There is also a 2 lb pass for their partner's weigh in when they return at stake. It's chicken wings with ranch dressing and celery sticks. I think it's 800 calories. Daniel agrees with me. It's 991 calories and Dan and me win. Next is bread bowl with chili and sour cream. I guess 600 calories. Tara plays Price is Right and says 1. It's 1,165. Kristin is closest. The last one is seven layer dip. Oh lord, 3,000? Yummy Curtis gives the answer -- 1,755. Helen wins.
Dan, Kristin and Helen get a cooking lesson from tasty Curtis. Allison has the winners guess how many calories are in one serving of the chicken skewers Curtis has made. I guess 300. It's 230 and Dan wins. Ah, he also wins the 2 lb pass. Dave needs it. Curtis wings off to Dave's place. Dave answers the door in his orange t-shirt. Uh huh. Dave can't cook and he reveals he's been eating crap. I want to lick Curtis like a tootsie roll. Is he wearing eyeliner? At Wal-Mart, where there's nobody there?? they shop. Dave has never been in a produce section. Even I can't suspend this much disbelief and I tune out the rest of the session. I fantasize about Curtis instead.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Bob's team has to jump on boxes. Blaine's wife has another boy. Lift that baby!
Challenge time. The players all have really cute jerseys in their team colors. I want one! Tara wants to get a hat trick in challenges. Curt Warner is today's guest star. Filipe is psyched. Curt is cute but not as lickable as Curtis. Curt believes anything is possible, but I'm still not licking him. Immunity is up for grabs. Footballs into bins. Five balls and you're out. Last one standing wins. Filipe is first out. Tara is next. There goes Dane. Dane really has a problem with being beat by a girl. It gets down to Joelle and Helen and Helen wins. Her kid is definitely coming back. More tears.
Product placement. I guess Quaker was ditched? I'd love to see Jillian do one of these. By the way, where has Jillian been this week?
Blaine is back. Aww, the baby is so cute in a Biggest Loser onesie.
Last chance workout. There's Jillian. Sort of. It looks like stock footage. Bob has on sparkly spandex. Okey dokey. Now I'm hungry. Where did I put that Curtis? Last chance for everyone to bring back their partners. Dan's going to yak. Jillian beats on him. He takes a hard hit on the treadmill. Dr. Phillian comes out. He makes it.
And we're off to weigh in. The redemption of Joelle continues. The partners return. I guess to be there in person when they find out which of their teammates didn't get it done. Dan looks a little pissed seeing Dave. I have to man the mute button to keep my dog from freaking out at the scale beeping so I'll just summarize: Helen puts up a good number. Ron's six pack of man boobs continue to frighten and they may not be back. Black has good numbers but is it enough? Jillian hawks gum in the trainer tip. It amuses me and I start to cough. Stupid cold. Filipe squeaks by to bring back Sione and there are man hugs. Tara blows her number out of the water and Laura is back. Kristin's mom checks out her ass and approves but Kristin may be eliminated. I hope Kristin gets to makeover week to fix that hair. Mandi brings Aubrey back. Jillian's beatings were not enough for Dan although he does get below 400. Brown is up for elimination. Kristin is safe and Cathy is back.
It's now Joelle's turn and she gets her own paragraph in case Carla murders her right on the scale. Joelle must lose more than eight pounds. America holds its breath. Carla is optimistic. Or happy at the prospect of killing. She could have a machete under that shirt. I can't tell. Joelle does it! She loses ten pounds. Carla thanks her. It could be for not leaving her open to a charge of murder two. Again, I can't tell. I love her earrings though. She could slit a throat with them. Joelle's triumph pushes Dan below the yellow line. There are more man hugs. I think Bob and Jillian have the same watch.
Brown son Mike talking heads. Apparently if you're older and fat you are less deserving. Ron pleads their case and takes the blame. Does he know his son would toss him to the wolves? Tears all around. Dan pleads his case. Lined up behind him is a whole lot of Extra gum. And some cough syrup. Dave chimes in but I don't think he's helping things. He doesn't want to be there and I think everyone knows it. I predict Orange will take the fall tonight.
Elimination room. I can't tell if my boobs are smaller or saggier. Should I have yogurt and a banana or chinese for lunch? Tara is pissed that Dave doesn't want to be there. She votes for Brown to torture Dave. I laugh and cough. The vote is tied (duh). It's down to Blue and Filipe. Filipe thinks Dave is an ungrateful little shit head. He sends Orange home. Poor Dan. Dave screwed him. I vote that the contestants kick Dave's ass.
In the exit interview, Dave lies his ass off. Back at home, wow, Dan looks great. He looks half his size. Dave has quit smoking and looks like he's lost maybe 40 lbs. Ass. Dan is off his diabetes meds. I'm right, Dave has lost only 46 lbs. He plans on shocking America at the finale. I bet it's by gaining weight. Dan has lost 101 lbs.
Next week, the at-home players weigh in. Mike vows to step it up. I'm off to eat something.
--the sick CilleyGirl
So let's go on to The Biggest Loser while I wait for my appointment, yes?
Big drama starts out this week, as the screen is black but for the words "At elimination, Jillian's team promised they would vote for Joelle.... ... they didn't."
People filter into the house. There are tears. Screams. Heh. Hey, crying loses weight people. Joelle is perhaps most stunned of all. Bob's team believes they voted to keep Joelle to drag down their team. Filipe says the game play is on. Helen says they have to take back their team. I'm cracking up.
Zoom around to the at-home players. Aubrey exercises as she watches The Biggest Loser. Laura shakes her booty at a nightclub. Sione is drowning in sweat at the gym. Dave is smoking and eating. Back at the ranch, Bob's team is in the gym. He is surprised to see Joelle. During the workouts he says he's found that change in Joelle and now he's singing her tune.
Blaine's wife is having a baby and he gets to go home. His weigh in will still count so he should curl the baby or something.
Out on a football field, Chef Curtis Stone is there to teach the players how to cook healthy Super Bowl snacks. He is very cute and very Australian. I'd vote to eat him. The players have to guess how many calories are in favorite football day snacks. The person who gets the closest to without going over gets Curtis to teach them how to cook these snacks healthy. Again, I vote for eating Curtis. He looks delicious. There is also a 2 lb pass for their partner's weigh in when they return at stake. It's chicken wings with ranch dressing and celery sticks. I think it's 800 calories. Daniel agrees with me. It's 991 calories and Dan and me win. Next is bread bowl with chili and sour cream. I guess 600 calories. Tara plays Price is Right and says 1. It's 1,165. Kristin is closest. The last one is seven layer dip. Oh lord, 3,000? Yummy Curtis gives the answer -- 1,755. Helen wins.
Dan, Kristin and Helen get a cooking lesson from tasty Curtis. Allison has the winners guess how many calories are in one serving of the chicken skewers Curtis has made. I guess 300. It's 230 and Dan wins. Ah, he also wins the 2 lb pass. Dave needs it. Curtis wings off to Dave's place. Dave answers the door in his orange t-shirt. Uh huh. Dave can't cook and he reveals he's been eating crap. I want to lick Curtis like a tootsie roll. Is he wearing eyeliner? At Wal-Mart, where there's nobody there?? they shop. Dave has never been in a produce section. Even I can't suspend this much disbelief and I tune out the rest of the session. I fantasize about Curtis instead.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Bob's team has to jump on boxes. Blaine's wife has another boy. Lift that baby!
Challenge time. The players all have really cute jerseys in their team colors. I want one! Tara wants to get a hat trick in challenges. Curt Warner is today's guest star. Filipe is psyched. Curt is cute but not as lickable as Curtis. Curt believes anything is possible, but I'm still not licking him. Immunity is up for grabs. Footballs into bins. Five balls and you're out. Last one standing wins. Filipe is first out. Tara is next. There goes Dane. Dane really has a problem with being beat by a girl. It gets down to Joelle and Helen and Helen wins. Her kid is definitely coming back. More tears.
Product placement. I guess Quaker was ditched? I'd love to see Jillian do one of these. By the way, where has Jillian been this week?
Blaine is back. Aww, the baby is so cute in a Biggest Loser onesie.
Last chance workout. There's Jillian. Sort of. It looks like stock footage. Bob has on sparkly spandex. Okey dokey. Now I'm hungry. Where did I put that Curtis? Last chance for everyone to bring back their partners. Dan's going to yak. Jillian beats on him. He takes a hard hit on the treadmill. Dr. Phillian comes out. He makes it.
And we're off to weigh in. The redemption of Joelle continues. The partners return. I guess to be there in person when they find out which of their teammates didn't get it done. Dan looks a little pissed seeing Dave. I have to man the mute button to keep my dog from freaking out at the scale beeping so I'll just summarize: Helen puts up a good number. Ron's six pack of man boobs continue to frighten and they may not be back. Black has good numbers but is it enough? Jillian hawks gum in the trainer tip. It amuses me and I start to cough. Stupid cold. Filipe squeaks by to bring back Sione and there are man hugs. Tara blows her number out of the water and Laura is back. Kristin's mom checks out her ass and approves but Kristin may be eliminated. I hope Kristin gets to makeover week to fix that hair. Mandi brings Aubrey back. Jillian's beatings were not enough for Dan although he does get below 400. Brown is up for elimination. Kristin is safe and Cathy is back.
It's now Joelle's turn and she gets her own paragraph in case Carla murders her right on the scale. Joelle must lose more than eight pounds. America holds its breath. Carla is optimistic. Or happy at the prospect of killing. She could have a machete under that shirt. I can't tell. Joelle does it! She loses ten pounds. Carla thanks her. It could be for not leaving her open to a charge of murder two. Again, I can't tell. I love her earrings though. She could slit a throat with them. Joelle's triumph pushes Dan below the yellow line. There are more man hugs. I think Bob and Jillian have the same watch.
Brown son Mike talking heads. Apparently if you're older and fat you are less deserving. Ron pleads their case and takes the blame. Does he know his son would toss him to the wolves? Tears all around. Dan pleads his case. Lined up behind him is a whole lot of Extra gum. And some cough syrup. Dave chimes in but I don't think he's helping things. He doesn't want to be there and I think everyone knows it. I predict Orange will take the fall tonight.
Elimination room. I can't tell if my boobs are smaller or saggier. Should I have yogurt and a banana or chinese for lunch? Tara is pissed that Dave doesn't want to be there. She votes for Brown to torture Dave. I laugh and cough. The vote is tied (duh). It's down to Blue and Filipe. Filipe thinks Dave is an ungrateful little shit head. He sends Orange home. Poor Dan. Dave screwed him. I vote that the contestants kick Dave's ass.
In the exit interview, Dave lies his ass off. Back at home, wow, Dan looks great. He looks half his size. Dave has quit smoking and looks like he's lost maybe 40 lbs. Ass. Dan is off his diabetes meds. I'm right, Dave has lost only 46 lbs. He plans on shocking America at the finale. I bet it's by gaining weight. Dan has lost 101 lbs.
Next week, the at-home players weigh in. Mike vows to step it up. I'm off to eat something.
--the sick CilleyGirl
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Working my booty off, one day at a time
I'm feeling very virtuous since I took myself and my dogs for a hike this morning at Cilley Creek Park. It was only for an hour so with the dogs I figure it was maybe about two miles but it wasn't all flat and my blood definitely got moving. I feel lighter already.
To celebrate my healthfulness I'm going to pick up some chinese food for dinner. And some donuts. And maybe some cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow before I'm even more virtuous and go play kickball. In potential snow and rain.
Cheers!
-the CilleyGirl
To celebrate my healthfulness I'm going to pick up some chinese food for dinner. And some donuts. And maybe some cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow before I'm even more virtuous and go play kickball. In potential snow and rain.
Cheers!
-the CilleyGirl
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
What have you done today to make you feel petty?
And we're back with The Biggest Loser.
We start with the contestants bemoaning having to choose between Jerry and Daniel, with Jerry going home. And that choice becomes more pronounced once we check in with the at-home contestants, since Daniel's partner David is chowing down every chance he gets. Everyone else seems to be doing pretty well.
Temptation! Each person gets five minutes alone in a room with a whole lot of food. The at-home folks have already had their chance with the food. The team who consumes the most calories wins a day with their trainer and their partner at home. Everyone is excited about the idea of getting the heck off the ranch, particularly Mandi who misses her kids. One by one the contestants face temptation. Filipe holds strong. Sione, not so much as he eats about 900 calories so he can get Filipe home. Mandi downs a piece of pizza for a measly 300 or so calories. Joelle, surprisingly, doesn't eat anything. Her partner, Carla, on the other hand, eats nearly everything. She consumes more than 2,000 calories to win a day at home with Bob and Joelle. Bob is off to Detroit!
The other contestants are all pissy, saying that of everyone Mandi deserved to win. Um, why exactly? She misses her kids, BFD. Isn't one of the black team guy's wife due to pop out a baby any day now? Mandi could've eaten if she really wanted to go home. Their whining is about to push me towards supporting Joelle.
Bob is in the motor city. He and Joelle reveal the f-bomb episode, and Carla tells Joelle that she does have a tendency to push people's buttons. Joelle might be headed for a personal revelation but has she lost all chance to redeem herself with the whiners back at the ranch?
Ah, today's product placement. What do you do when you want to snack? Why, you eat Yoplait! Bob is such a yogurt whore.
Back at the ranch, Jillian administers beatings. Mandi is all verklempt. She has no idea why. I'm thinking she's had too much whine, and Dr. Phillian agrees with me, taking Mandi outside for some one-on-one. Basically, Jillian tells her to suck it up because of course this is hard.
We zoom back to Detroit. Carla is pissed that Joelle wasn't working all that hard at the ranch. She threatens Joelle with bodily harm. The lightbulb over Joelle's head may be flickering. Oops, it goes out as Joelle goes off. Whoa, they may come to blows. Other people are poking their heads into the gym. Watch out Bob, Carla's three times your size. He breaks out an f-bomb on Carla as he wishes Dr. Phillian were there instead of him. Heh, Jillian would've knocked one of them on their ass by now. I'd pay to see those three women face off.
Bob phones home. Are they icing their shins? Weird. Bob's new motto is "no excuses." Back with the silver chicks, Bob dishes up salad while Carla hammers on Joelle some more. Joelle looks she wants to smash her water glass over Carla's head. While Carla (and everyone) has some good points I'm starting to feel for Joelle. Until she uses the word "doocaca."
I tune them out. You know, I really don't care who a politician sleeps with as long as it's consensual and not with a minor. Just saying. My kickball team is decided in last place. The team photo is up and I look like a pasty blob. With a hat.
The contestants go to see Dr. Huizenga. Dane/Blaine (I can't tell them apart) was taking eight meds a day. Diabetic pills are gone. Cholesterol pills are gone. They're all gone. Seriously, within two weeks? I've got to rewind.... Prozac and Wellbutrin? Taking two antidepressants at once aside, he's just off them? I don't think so. Ron had ten pills a day plus insulin. He's down now to one plus a little insulin. A year's worth of his pills was $20,000+. Yikes.
Challenge time! Ooh, it's the jump rope contraption. I love this one. Jump over the beam, last person standing wins immunity. Tara immediately says she'll be the winner, rather unwisely as she later says she sucks at jumping rope. And they're off. Joelle breaks her bar on the first jump. So does Ron. Yes, physics works. Dan is out after two jumps. Helen at three. I'm cracking up. Black, purple, red, green, yellow and blue are still in it. Red goes down. The last person to win this challenge was Matt in season 2. He went 40 minutes and then on to win the whole show. Most are jumping with both feet. Filipe lands on the bar with both feet. It's 95 degrees during the challenge. Mandi says she could go all day, then breaks her bar. After 30 minutes it speeds up. Wow, they're coming up on two hours. Dane goes out. Kristin of the skunky hair and Tara are left at two hours and nearly 1,000 jumps. Tara watches Kristin like a hawk. Kristin goes out at two hours and nineteen minutes. Tara wins immunity then reveals her secret to staying in so long is she was throwing up a little in her mouth and then swallowing it. Uh, eww?
Last chance workout. Bob's back from Detroit, ready to put a whole week worth of workouts into one day. Gang up on Joelle time. Blaine comes to realize Jillian really is a sadist. Jillian has no problem with that. Bob makes Helen bench press him. I'm not sure whether I like Helen or not. Blaine pulls Jillian across the gym at quite a clip and he drags her right out the door and she flies down the steps. Heh. Did Mike get a haircut? I don't like Bastard Bob. I liked Yoga Bob better. Huh, apparently Nike doesn't want its logo shown as Jillian's feet are all fuzzed out.
Time for the weigh in. My dog hates the beeping of the scale and is threatening to jump me.
Green/Tara - 8 lbs. She has immunity so no percentage.
Pink/Helen - 6 lbs and she is happy. 2.53%.
Yellow/Mandi - 8 lbs for 3.27%.
Silver/Joelle - 6 lbs for 2.04%. Everyone makes a face, including Bob.
Blue/Filipe - 14 lbs. He is psyched, to say the least. 4.14% puts him in the lead so far.
Brown/Ron - 9 lbs. Mike - 11 lbs. Total percentage of weight lost is 2.68%.
I pause to beat on my dog. The beeping has really stressed her. I think she needs another furminating.
Black/Blaine - 12 lbs. Dane - 18 lbs. 4.21% edges out Filipe for the lead.
Red/Damien - 4 lbs. 1.13%.
Orange/Dan - He loses 15 lbs. 3.56% and he is safe from elimination.
Purple/Kristin - She needs more than 6 lbs to stay safe. I mute the beeping. And she did it with 7 lbs.
Damien and Joelle are below the yellow line and up for elimination. I'm guessing Joelle is going home to get her ass kicked by Carla. Joelle guesses so too. Bob agrees with both of us. Tara flat out asks Joelle if she wants to be here. Joelle hesitates and that is not lost on anyone else. Kristin says she'll be shocked if the vote goes against Damien. Spoiler? Let's see. They zoom through the vote, with three for Joelle until Black unexpectedly votes for Damien. Even Joelle looks perplexed. Tara votes for Damien. The look on Joelle's face. Mandi votes for Damien. Are they going to force a tie? It comes down to Dan, who votes for..... Damien. Huh. Joelle can't believe it and she starts to cry. Is this the beginning of the redemption of Joelle? Damien does, in his words, the walk of shame as his fridge goes dark.
Damien lost 30 lbs while at the ranch. Now, wow, they both look great as they go to do their engagement photos. Nicole has lost 76 lbs total. Damien, 74. They plan to be "super sexy" the next time we see them.
Since I am already super sexy, I'll sign off as --
--the CilleyGirl
Welcome to a new world, America.
We start with the contestants bemoaning having to choose between Jerry and Daniel, with Jerry going home. And that choice becomes more pronounced once we check in with the at-home contestants, since Daniel's partner David is chowing down every chance he gets. Everyone else seems to be doing pretty well.
Temptation! Each person gets five minutes alone in a room with a whole lot of food. The at-home folks have already had their chance with the food. The team who consumes the most calories wins a day with their trainer and their partner at home. Everyone is excited about the idea of getting the heck off the ranch, particularly Mandi who misses her kids. One by one the contestants face temptation. Filipe holds strong. Sione, not so much as he eats about 900 calories so he can get Filipe home. Mandi downs a piece of pizza for a measly 300 or so calories. Joelle, surprisingly, doesn't eat anything. Her partner, Carla, on the other hand, eats nearly everything. She consumes more than 2,000 calories to win a day at home with Bob and Joelle. Bob is off to Detroit!
The other contestants are all pissy, saying that of everyone Mandi deserved to win. Um, why exactly? She misses her kids, BFD. Isn't one of the black team guy's wife due to pop out a baby any day now? Mandi could've eaten if she really wanted to go home. Their whining is about to push me towards supporting Joelle.
Bob is in the motor city. He and Joelle reveal the f-bomb episode, and Carla tells Joelle that she does have a tendency to push people's buttons. Joelle might be headed for a personal revelation but has she lost all chance to redeem herself with the whiners back at the ranch?
Ah, today's product placement. What do you do when you want to snack? Why, you eat Yoplait! Bob is such a yogurt whore.
Back at the ranch, Jillian administers beatings. Mandi is all verklempt. She has no idea why. I'm thinking she's had too much whine, and Dr. Phillian agrees with me, taking Mandi outside for some one-on-one. Basically, Jillian tells her to suck it up because of course this is hard.
We zoom back to Detroit. Carla is pissed that Joelle wasn't working all that hard at the ranch. She threatens Joelle with bodily harm. The lightbulb over Joelle's head may be flickering. Oops, it goes out as Joelle goes off. Whoa, they may come to blows. Other people are poking their heads into the gym. Watch out Bob, Carla's three times your size. He breaks out an f-bomb on Carla as he wishes Dr. Phillian were there instead of him. Heh, Jillian would've knocked one of them on their ass by now. I'd pay to see those three women face off.
Bob phones home. Are they icing their shins? Weird. Bob's new motto is "no excuses." Back with the silver chicks, Bob dishes up salad while Carla hammers on Joelle some more. Joelle looks she wants to smash her water glass over Carla's head. While Carla (and everyone) has some good points I'm starting to feel for Joelle. Until she uses the word "doocaca."
I tune them out. You know, I really don't care who a politician sleeps with as long as it's consensual and not with a minor. Just saying. My kickball team is decided in last place. The team photo is up and I look like a pasty blob. With a hat.
The contestants go to see Dr. Huizenga. Dane/Blaine (I can't tell them apart) was taking eight meds a day. Diabetic pills are gone. Cholesterol pills are gone. They're all gone. Seriously, within two weeks? I've got to rewind.... Prozac and Wellbutrin? Taking two antidepressants at once aside, he's just off them? I don't think so. Ron had ten pills a day plus insulin. He's down now to one plus a little insulin. A year's worth of his pills was $20,000+. Yikes.
Challenge time! Ooh, it's the jump rope contraption. I love this one. Jump over the beam, last person standing wins immunity. Tara immediately says she'll be the winner, rather unwisely as she later says she sucks at jumping rope. And they're off. Joelle breaks her bar on the first jump. So does Ron. Yes, physics works. Dan is out after two jumps. Helen at three. I'm cracking up. Black, purple, red, green, yellow and blue are still in it. Red goes down. The last person to win this challenge was Matt in season 2. He went 40 minutes and then on to win the whole show. Most are jumping with both feet. Filipe lands on the bar with both feet. It's 95 degrees during the challenge. Mandi says she could go all day, then breaks her bar. After 30 minutes it speeds up. Wow, they're coming up on two hours. Dane goes out. Kristin of the skunky hair and Tara are left at two hours and nearly 1,000 jumps. Tara watches Kristin like a hawk. Kristin goes out at two hours and nineteen minutes. Tara wins immunity then reveals her secret to staying in so long is she was throwing up a little in her mouth and then swallowing it. Uh, eww?
Last chance workout. Bob's back from Detroit, ready to put a whole week worth of workouts into one day. Gang up on Joelle time. Blaine comes to realize Jillian really is a sadist. Jillian has no problem with that. Bob makes Helen bench press him. I'm not sure whether I like Helen or not. Blaine pulls Jillian across the gym at quite a clip and he drags her right out the door and she flies down the steps. Heh. Did Mike get a haircut? I don't like Bastard Bob. I liked Yoga Bob better. Huh, apparently Nike doesn't want its logo shown as Jillian's feet are all fuzzed out.
Time for the weigh in. My dog hates the beeping of the scale and is threatening to jump me.
Green/Tara - 8 lbs. She has immunity so no percentage.
Pink/Helen - 6 lbs and she is happy. 2.53%.
Yellow/Mandi - 8 lbs for 3.27%.
Silver/Joelle - 6 lbs for 2.04%. Everyone makes a face, including Bob.
Blue/Filipe - 14 lbs. He is psyched, to say the least. 4.14% puts him in the lead so far.
Brown/Ron - 9 lbs. Mike - 11 lbs. Total percentage of weight lost is 2.68%.
I pause to beat on my dog. The beeping has really stressed her. I think she needs another furminating.
Black/Blaine - 12 lbs. Dane - 18 lbs. 4.21% edges out Filipe for the lead.
Red/Damien - 4 lbs. 1.13%.
Orange/Dan - He loses 15 lbs. 3.56% and he is safe from elimination.
Purple/Kristin - She needs more than 6 lbs to stay safe. I mute the beeping. And she did it with 7 lbs.
Damien and Joelle are below the yellow line and up for elimination. I'm guessing Joelle is going home to get her ass kicked by Carla. Joelle guesses so too. Bob agrees with both of us. Tara flat out asks Joelle if she wants to be here. Joelle hesitates and that is not lost on anyone else. Kristin says she'll be shocked if the vote goes against Damien. Spoiler? Let's see. They zoom through the vote, with three for Joelle until Black unexpectedly votes for Damien. Even Joelle looks perplexed. Tara votes for Damien. The look on Joelle's face. Mandi votes for Damien. Are they going to force a tie? It comes down to Dan, who votes for..... Damien. Huh. Joelle can't believe it and she starts to cry. Is this the beginning of the redemption of Joelle? Damien does, in his words, the walk of shame as his fridge goes dark.
Damien lost 30 lbs while at the ranch. Now, wow, they both look great as they go to do their engagement photos. Nicole has lost 76 lbs total. Damien, 74. They plan to be "super sexy" the next time we see them.
Since I am already super sexy, I'll sign off as --
--the CilleyGirl
Welcome to a new world, America.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Another season is upon us
Of The Biggest Loser, that is. Here's to hoping that this season there is no one as obnoxiously evil as Vicky. Or as obnoxiously obnoxious as Heba.
I'm coming in to Season 7 having just finished watching 24: Resurrection. So I may be in the mood to kill the contestants rather than just vote them off. In other news, Tony Almeida's not dead? Huh.
Okay, it's starting. Bob and Jillian are yelling at me not to sit there and watch ice cream while watching The Biggest Loser. Okey doke. Guess this is a good time to mention that in honor of the show tonight I had pizza and wings for dinner.
Eleven couples. Whoa, this guy is huge. Even for this show. And he looks bigger than the heaviest contestant (454 lbs) ever. I'm thinking it's the overalls.
Schmaltzy intro credits, check. Let's move on, shall we?
They're all coming to the ranch on a bus. It must have great shocks. Oldest couple looks like they may drop dead. Bob is in the running for bitch of the year. I liked his nice guy personality better. Maybe all the ink has gone to his brain. Hey, one gal looks like Oprah.
Silver team: Best friends Carla (36) and Joelle (41) are from Michigan. Sassy black women -- team "Get Gorgeous G Squared."
Blue team: Sione (29) and Filipe (27) are cousins, their parents are from Tonga where it's normal to be big. They live in Mesa, Arizona.
Orange team: North Carolina boys Daniel (19) and David (23) are also best friends. Daniel is the one who is the heaviest.
Yep, that bus is riding low.
White team: Estella (63) and Jerry (63) are grandparents and the oldest contestants ever. From Illinois.
Black team: Dane (28) and Blaine (28) are also cousins. One of them drinks milk out of a mason jar. Also from Mesa. And they're tall! Dane is 6'4", Blaine is 6'8".
Low bus!
Pink team: Shanon (29) and Helen (48) are daughter and mother. Nice sausage, honey. From Michigan.
Green team: Tara (23 - New York) and Laura (24 - Miami) are friends and former models. Heh, so Tara and Laura are only "friends", while the others are "best friends". Mrow!
Brown team: Ron (54) and Mike (18) are dad and son. More Michigan folks.
Purple team: Kristin (28) and Cathy (48) are daughter and mother. They're from Wisconsin.
Red team: From Brooklyn, NY, Nicole and Damien are engaged. They want to lose weight for their wedding.
Yellow team: Aubrey (28) and Mandi (30) are sisters. Hey, Aubrey is from Gooding, Idaho! Gooding is about ten minutes from where my grandparents and dad live. Mandi is from Boise.
First workout! Without their trainers. They have no clue. And the trainers are watching on CCTV. I would get on that treadmill and, well, walk. But fast.
Oh! Jerry's going down! Is he having a stroke? There he goes in an ambulance. Estella stays behind. The trainers are making him into an example.
Time to pick teams. Load 'em up with the big guys!
Jillian: White, Black, Green, Orange, and Yellow.
Bob: Silver, Blue, Red, Pink, Brown, and Purple.
And now off to the scale of DOOM.
But first, commercials. This doesn't bode well: a commercial for Providence Wellness Watch. All about risk factors for stroke. Does this mean no more Jerry?
White team: Weighing in by herself, Estella starts at 242 lbs.
Pink team: 540 lbs.
Purple team: 653 lbs. Kristin is at 360 lbs, the biggest woman ever by 62 lbs. She notes that's more than the size of a Green Bay Packer lineman.
Yellow team: 512 lbs. The tears start.
Red team: 650 lbs. I think I like the red team. They'll probably be voted off first.
Green team: 579 lbs. More tears!
Blue team: 736 lbs. Whoa.
Black team: The big boys are at 777 lbs. Whoa squared.
Brown team: 818 lbs.
Silver team: Yowza, they are big and sassy. 688 lbs. Oh, now Carla at 379 lbs is officially the heaviest woman ever on The Biggest Loser. Bet Kristin is happy to give up that title. Wonder if there's any pizza left?
Orange team: 847 lbs. Daniel is the heaviest person they've ever had at 454 lbs, and the heaviest team in Biggest Loser history.
While that was probably the fastest weigh in I've ever seen, let's move on to the drama, shall we?
Bob and Jillian administer beatings, beatings, beatings. Jillian does it in a gentler, kinder way.
Laura is losing it. Everyone is very supportive. Yeah, that'll change. Oops, clean up on treadmill 9! Body bugs make an appearance. I'd love to have one of those. How much do they cost? Oh, excuse me, bodybugg. Yikes! $250 to $350, depending on the options you get. Laura recovers well, though, she's emerging as one of my early favorites.
And Jerry is back! Yay! Everyone is very supportive. I give it til episode 3 before someone emerges as snarky, at the very least. Then again, I just checked out all the candidates again and only the Black team looks to be a possibility in that area so far. Maybe this is a gentler, kinder season? Vicky did leave a bad taste behind.
Moving on, it's challenge time. They're on a bridge. I'm acrophobic. Ooh, but there's a tractor. 250,000 lbs of sand too. And flags! Immunity is up for grabs.
It's Blue in the lead, Green and Black close behind. Yellow finishes first. Black second. Blue third. Green is fourth. Red is fifth. Top five teams move on. I sense potential tension in the Green team. Definitely some tension. Go Red! Black and Yellow go to the final heat. Go Yellow! It may be a photo finish... And it is a photo finish! Black wins. Darn.
Scary medical news time. Brown gets picked on first. Whoa. Ron had a gastric bypass and he's still huge. Pink is up next. Helen is a smoker, let's show her some gnarly lungs. Nope, it's biological age instead. She's 60. Well, hey, that's not too bad. Last season the one gal was really in her early 20s and her biological age was something like the 50s. Black in the hot seat now. Amazing how the fat squishes all the organs up. Maybe I should've done without the extra cheese on the pizza.
I've started the blood type diet for the new year. For my type, it emphasizes lean red meat, low carbs (mainly from fruits and veggies), no wheat, little dairy. I've been doing it for maybe four days now and I already feel markedly different. Almost no stomach or sinus problems, my chronic complaints. The pizza tonight was everything I'm supposed to be avoiding. Besides wanting leftovers for my bowling night on Thursday, I wanted to see how my body would do on the "avoid" foods, to give a realistic picture of whether it's really the diet that's making me feel better or if it's just the mindset.
Back to the show. No elimination tonight? Must be a catch. Bob and Jillian are with me on this. Yep, no elimination but nine of the contestants are going home. Huh? Well, that could work. One thing I don't really like about the couples version of the show is that everyone has a built in support/enabler system on campus. I think it works better for single contestants. That's when they make the real progress on the inside.
The scale of doom is on now. How have they done?
Black team: Lost 34 lbs. Since they have immunity, no percentage shown.
Silver team: Down 24 lbs for 3.49%.
Orange team: 46 lbs, including 30 lbs alone for Daniel. Of course, these are the guys who didn't bring their water bottles to work out. 5.43% moves them to the top.
Red team: His boobs are very perky. They lose 35 lbs, for 5.38%. One pound away from taking the lead. Darn.
White team: Don't pass out, Jerry! His starting weight was 369 lbs, which they did at the hospital. They need to have lost more than 33 lbs. Heh, 34 lbs! 25 of those were Jerry's. 5.56% puts them above the yellow line.
Blue team: More than 40 lbs is needed. Aww, 40 lbs exactly. 5.43% ties them with Orange, but they are below the yellow line.
Yellow team: Go Yellow! 25 lbs, which isn't enough to keep them above the line. 4.88% overall.
Purple team: Which we've barely seen so far. They need more than 36 lbs. And I've caught up to my DVR recording so now I have to sit through these commercials. Does Michael Flatley look like jerky to you too? Okay, we're back. 31 lbs. Everyone is happy. 4.75%. White remains on top. Jerry is flabbergasted. Don't pass out, Jerry!
Pink team: Sorry, ladies, but I have a hard time telling which one is the mom. More than 30 lbs is their goal. They didn't make it. 25 lbs, for 4.63%.
Green team: More than 32 lbs for them is needed. And they lost 34! Tara is happy she lost 21 lbs, but I think she's pissed Laura lost only 13. I'm guessing that if they do fall below the line, Laura is the one going home. 5.87% puts them in the top spot.
Brown team: The last to weigh in. More than 48 lbs is their goal. That's so huge, I bet they did it or made it within one. But first, commercials. Annnnnd we're back. Whoa, three sets of man boobs. On one man. Reminds me of when our dog was nursing puppies. Explains the overalls. Beep, beep, beep goes the scale. 54 lbs! I knew it. I've been watching this show too long. 6.60% puts them above the yellow line.
To recap, Black and Brown are both safe. Everybody else has to choose one member to go home. And another twist. After 30 days, if their teammate is still in the game they get to come back. Not a bad twist. For a change. Pizza and wings for everyone!
The couples are choosing. Everyone is I'll go, no I'll go. Silver is showing tension in the ranks. Guessing Jerry is going home. Or maybe he'll stay where he has close medical supervision. So, who did they choose?
Pink picks Shannon to leave. Helen stays.
Blue picks Sione to leave. Filipe stays.
Green has Laura going home. Called it! I think Tara could be a contender.
Aubrey goes for Yellow. Mandi stays. Nice ink.
Red has Nicole leaving and Damien staying. Damien can dead lift a lot of weight.
Orange chooses Daniel to stay and David is leaving.
Silver has Carla going home, which is a surprise. Joelle is staying.
Purple has bad blonde streaks in their hair. Mom Cathy leaves, Kristin the linebacker is staying.
White sends Estella home. Jerry stays with paramedics close by.
Everyone goes back to their lonely little rooms, except for Brown and Black. It's lights out!
Here's to a healthy new year for you all.
--the CG
I'm coming in to Season 7 having just finished watching 24: Resurrection. So I may be in the mood to kill the contestants rather than just vote them off. In other news, Tony Almeida's not dead? Huh.
Okay, it's starting. Bob and Jillian are yelling at me not to sit there and watch ice cream while watching The Biggest Loser. Okey doke. Guess this is a good time to mention that in honor of the show tonight I had pizza and wings for dinner.
Eleven couples. Whoa, this guy is huge. Even for this show. And he looks bigger than the heaviest contestant (454 lbs) ever. I'm thinking it's the overalls.
Schmaltzy intro credits, check. Let's move on, shall we?
They're all coming to the ranch on a bus. It must have great shocks. Oldest couple looks like they may drop dead. Bob is in the running for bitch of the year. I liked his nice guy personality better. Maybe all the ink has gone to his brain. Hey, one gal looks like Oprah.
Silver team: Best friends Carla (36) and Joelle (41) are from Michigan. Sassy black women -- team "Get Gorgeous G Squared."
Blue team: Sione (29) and Filipe (27) are cousins, their parents are from Tonga where it's normal to be big. They live in Mesa, Arizona.
Orange team: North Carolina boys Daniel (19) and David (23) are also best friends. Daniel is the one who is the heaviest.
Yep, that bus is riding low.
White team: Estella (63) and Jerry (63) are grandparents and the oldest contestants ever. From Illinois.
Black team: Dane (28) and Blaine (28) are also cousins. One of them drinks milk out of a mason jar. Also from Mesa. And they're tall! Dane is 6'4", Blaine is 6'8".
Low bus!
Pink team: Shanon (29) and Helen (48) are daughter and mother. Nice sausage, honey. From Michigan.
Green team: Tara (23 - New York) and Laura (24 - Miami) are friends and former models. Heh, so Tara and Laura are only "friends", while the others are "best friends". Mrow!
Brown team: Ron (54) and Mike (18) are dad and son. More Michigan folks.
Purple team: Kristin (28) and Cathy (48) are daughter and mother. They're from Wisconsin.
Red team: From Brooklyn, NY, Nicole and Damien are engaged. They want to lose weight for their wedding.
Yellow team: Aubrey (28) and Mandi (30) are sisters. Hey, Aubrey is from Gooding, Idaho! Gooding is about ten minutes from where my grandparents and dad live. Mandi is from Boise.
First workout! Without their trainers. They have no clue. And the trainers are watching on CCTV. I would get on that treadmill and, well, walk. But fast.
Oh! Jerry's going down! Is he having a stroke? There he goes in an ambulance. Estella stays behind. The trainers are making him into an example.
Time to pick teams. Load 'em up with the big guys!
Jillian: White, Black, Green, Orange, and Yellow.
Bob: Silver, Blue, Red, Pink, Brown, and Purple.
And now off to the scale of DOOM.
But first, commercials. This doesn't bode well: a commercial for Providence Wellness Watch. All about risk factors for stroke. Does this mean no more Jerry?
White team: Weighing in by herself, Estella starts at 242 lbs.
Pink team: 540 lbs.
Purple team: 653 lbs. Kristin is at 360 lbs, the biggest woman ever by 62 lbs. She notes that's more than the size of a Green Bay Packer lineman.
Yellow team: 512 lbs. The tears start.
Red team: 650 lbs. I think I like the red team. They'll probably be voted off first.
Green team: 579 lbs. More tears!
Blue team: 736 lbs. Whoa.
Black team: The big boys are at 777 lbs. Whoa squared.
Brown team: 818 lbs.
Silver team: Yowza, they are big and sassy. 688 lbs. Oh, now Carla at 379 lbs is officially the heaviest woman ever on The Biggest Loser. Bet Kristin is happy to give up that title. Wonder if there's any pizza left?
Orange team: 847 lbs. Daniel is the heaviest person they've ever had at 454 lbs, and the heaviest team in Biggest Loser history.
While that was probably the fastest weigh in I've ever seen, let's move on to the drama, shall we?
Bob and Jillian administer beatings, beatings, beatings. Jillian does it in a gentler, kinder way.
Laura is losing it. Everyone is very supportive. Yeah, that'll change. Oops, clean up on treadmill 9! Body bugs make an appearance. I'd love to have one of those. How much do they cost? Oh, excuse me, bodybugg. Yikes! $250 to $350, depending on the options you get. Laura recovers well, though, she's emerging as one of my early favorites.
And Jerry is back! Yay! Everyone is very supportive. I give it til episode 3 before someone emerges as snarky, at the very least. Then again, I just checked out all the candidates again and only the Black team looks to be a possibility in that area so far. Maybe this is a gentler, kinder season? Vicky did leave a bad taste behind.
Moving on, it's challenge time. They're on a bridge. I'm acrophobic. Ooh, but there's a tractor. 250,000 lbs of sand too. And flags! Immunity is up for grabs.
It's Blue in the lead, Green and Black close behind. Yellow finishes first. Black second. Blue third. Green is fourth. Red is fifth. Top five teams move on. I sense potential tension in the Green team. Definitely some tension. Go Red! Black and Yellow go to the final heat. Go Yellow! It may be a photo finish... And it is a photo finish! Black wins. Darn.
Scary medical news time. Brown gets picked on first. Whoa. Ron had a gastric bypass and he's still huge. Pink is up next. Helen is a smoker, let's show her some gnarly lungs. Nope, it's biological age instead. She's 60. Well, hey, that's not too bad. Last season the one gal was really in her early 20s and her biological age was something like the 50s. Black in the hot seat now. Amazing how the fat squishes all the organs up. Maybe I should've done without the extra cheese on the pizza.
I've started the blood type diet for the new year. For my type, it emphasizes lean red meat, low carbs (mainly from fruits and veggies), no wheat, little dairy. I've been doing it for maybe four days now and I already feel markedly different. Almost no stomach or sinus problems, my chronic complaints. The pizza tonight was everything I'm supposed to be avoiding. Besides wanting leftovers for my bowling night on Thursday, I wanted to see how my body would do on the "avoid" foods, to give a realistic picture of whether it's really the diet that's making me feel better or if it's just the mindset.
Back to the show. No elimination tonight? Must be a catch. Bob and Jillian are with me on this. Yep, no elimination but nine of the contestants are going home. Huh? Well, that could work. One thing I don't really like about the couples version of the show is that everyone has a built in support/enabler system on campus. I think it works better for single contestants. That's when they make the real progress on the inside.
The scale of doom is on now. How have they done?
Black team: Lost 34 lbs. Since they have immunity, no percentage shown.
Silver team: Down 24 lbs for 3.49%.
Orange team: 46 lbs, including 30 lbs alone for Daniel. Of course, these are the guys who didn't bring their water bottles to work out. 5.43% moves them to the top.
Red team: His boobs are very perky. They lose 35 lbs, for 5.38%. One pound away from taking the lead. Darn.
White team: Don't pass out, Jerry! His starting weight was 369 lbs, which they did at the hospital. They need to have lost more than 33 lbs. Heh, 34 lbs! 25 of those were Jerry's. 5.56% puts them above the yellow line.
Blue team: More than 40 lbs is needed. Aww, 40 lbs exactly. 5.43% ties them with Orange, but they are below the yellow line.
Yellow team: Go Yellow! 25 lbs, which isn't enough to keep them above the line. 4.88% overall.
Purple team: Which we've barely seen so far. They need more than 36 lbs. And I've caught up to my DVR recording so now I have to sit through these commercials. Does Michael Flatley look like jerky to you too? Okay, we're back. 31 lbs. Everyone is happy. 4.75%. White remains on top. Jerry is flabbergasted. Don't pass out, Jerry!
Pink team: Sorry, ladies, but I have a hard time telling which one is the mom. More than 30 lbs is their goal. They didn't make it. 25 lbs, for 4.63%.
Green team: More than 32 lbs for them is needed. And they lost 34! Tara is happy she lost 21 lbs, but I think she's pissed Laura lost only 13. I'm guessing that if they do fall below the line, Laura is the one going home. 5.87% puts them in the top spot.
Brown team: The last to weigh in. More than 48 lbs is their goal. That's so huge, I bet they did it or made it within one. But first, commercials. Annnnnd we're back. Whoa, three sets of man boobs. On one man. Reminds me of when our dog was nursing puppies. Explains the overalls. Beep, beep, beep goes the scale. 54 lbs! I knew it. I've been watching this show too long. 6.60% puts them above the yellow line.
To recap, Black and Brown are both safe. Everybody else has to choose one member to go home. And another twist. After 30 days, if their teammate is still in the game they get to come back. Not a bad twist. For a change. Pizza and wings for everyone!
The couples are choosing. Everyone is I'll go, no I'll go. Silver is showing tension in the ranks. Guessing Jerry is going home. Or maybe he'll stay where he has close medical supervision. So, who did they choose?
Pink picks Shannon to leave. Helen stays.
Blue picks Sione to leave. Filipe stays.
Green has Laura going home. Called it! I think Tara could be a contender.
Aubrey goes for Yellow. Mandi stays. Nice ink.
Red has Nicole leaving and Damien staying. Damien can dead lift a lot of weight.
Orange chooses Daniel to stay and David is leaving.
Silver has Carla going home, which is a surprise. Joelle is staying.
Purple has bad blonde streaks in their hair. Mom Cathy leaves, Kristin the linebacker is staying.
White sends Estella home. Jerry stays with paramedics close by.
Everyone goes back to their lonely little rooms, except for Brown and Black. It's lights out!
Here's to a healthy new year for you all.
--the CG
Friday, December 19, 2008
Random thoughts and hidden talents (aka "therapy")
It occurred to me that perhaps I should post on here before Blogger eats my blog or something for lack of activity. Gee, since the last time I posted, Michelle won Biggest Loser (yay Michelle!), I've had a birthday, and my bowling team came in second last season and is currently in first place heading into the championships this season. CilleyLand is in the grips of an arctic freeze (TM all the news channels), with more to come tomorrow.
So, since the weather wouldn't take that long to write about (there's snow, there's ice, it's cold, I'm dreading getting the electric bill since the heat has been running constantly) I thought I'd talk about some things that may not be apparent when people meet me. Or in some cases even when they've known me for a while. Or just little known facts that sound interesting at the moment I'm writing it.
Here we go.
I really enjoy the music of Shaggy. And a lot of Eminem. Go figure.
I've seen Barry Manilow live in concert at least four times.
I've also seen the Beach Boys live in concert at least six times. They used to play the Puyallup Fair every year.
I know a lot about rodeo.
I have deep and abiding attachments to several fictional characters, including Derek Blazestar, Stu Redman, Thomas Black, and Harry Dresden.
I have a thing for bunnies, transvestites, and the Muppets. Only one of those is remotely sexual. You can discuss amongst yourselves.
I am acrophobic. Deeply, deeply acrophobic. Like anything above about eight feet. I can fly commercially but the small ones are pretty dicey depending on the size of the windows and my location relative to them. Helicopters would really freak me out. Even pictures of heights on TV and the movies make me ill. Since it is a phobia, I am not getting over it so don't even try. Ever seen Vertigo? Where Jimmy Stewart is looking down and the camera zooms in and out and then the swirly thing starts? It's a lot like that. Just deal with it. I do.
I can drive a tractor. I can also pretty much take an older car apart and put it back together again so that it works.
I can bowl pretty well. Sometimes beer helps. Sometimes not.
My fastest typing speed ever was over 120 wpm. I'm still pretty fast.
I'm somewhere between an atheist and a pagan. I'm pretty sure that if there is a god, he's a she.
I love zoos. No, I don't think much about the ethicality of animals in cages, except that I do strongly believe the animals need the best zoo habitats they can get. The ones that don't really look like cages. So vote for your local zoo measures.
I believe in verbalizing my feelings. For example, I say "ow" a lot. Usually no lasting damage but I'm living in the moment. Go with it.
While I do not have a truly eidetic memory, it's close. Sometimes I think that might be because I either have a longer short-term memory buffer than most or that I have learned to move information from my short-term memory to my long-term memory more quickly than most. I think that most people don't have poor memories, they just don't actually pay attention.
People who don't pay attention really piss me off. This relates closely to people who are slow on the uptake. Those who are slow on the uptake because they're not really paying attention really piss me off.
I went to summer camp for eleven summers in a row.
Sometimes I suspect my parents didn't really want me around during the summer.
I have many fruit issues. I enjoy many fruits, but not when there is work for me involved. Biting into an apple occupies one hand until you are finished. Cutting up the apple is a lot of work. Hence, I don't eat a lot of apples even though I really like them. Mostly I just eat bananas since they only tie up one hand for less than two minutes.
Yes, fruit issues.
I got a perfect score in spelling on the Washington Pre-College Test.
I don't understand not knowing how to spell. There is one way to spell a word. Everything else is wrong.
I hate to be wrong.
I was deemed too mentally healthy for therapy after one and a half sessions. Seriously. The psychologist kicked me out. Guess when you've been clinically depressed since you were seven, you learn how to deal.
I've been clinically depressed since I was seven. I took notes.
I like my antidepressants very much, thank you.
I have long suspected that I will never been confirmed by the Senate for any sort of federal position whatsoever.
I have also long suspected that this is enough for today. Revelation is good for the soul, but a job is better for the paycheck.
Cheers,
the CilleyGirl
So, since the weather wouldn't take that long to write about (there's snow, there's ice, it's cold, I'm dreading getting the electric bill since the heat has been running constantly) I thought I'd talk about some things that may not be apparent when people meet me. Or in some cases even when they've known me for a while. Or just little known facts that sound interesting at the moment I'm writing it.
Here we go.
I really enjoy the music of Shaggy. And a lot of Eminem. Go figure.
I've seen Barry Manilow live in concert at least four times.
I've also seen the Beach Boys live in concert at least six times. They used to play the Puyallup Fair every year.
I know a lot about rodeo.
I have deep and abiding attachments to several fictional characters, including Derek Blazestar, Stu Redman, Thomas Black, and Harry Dresden.
I have a thing for bunnies, transvestites, and the Muppets. Only one of those is remotely sexual. You can discuss amongst yourselves.
I am acrophobic. Deeply, deeply acrophobic. Like anything above about eight feet. I can fly commercially but the small ones are pretty dicey depending on the size of the windows and my location relative to them. Helicopters would really freak me out. Even pictures of heights on TV and the movies make me ill. Since it is a phobia, I am not getting over it so don't even try. Ever seen Vertigo? Where Jimmy Stewart is looking down and the camera zooms in and out and then the swirly thing starts? It's a lot like that. Just deal with it. I do.
I can drive a tractor. I can also pretty much take an older car apart and put it back together again so that it works.
I can bowl pretty well. Sometimes beer helps. Sometimes not.
My fastest typing speed ever was over 120 wpm. I'm still pretty fast.
I'm somewhere between an atheist and a pagan. I'm pretty sure that if there is a god, he's a she.
I love zoos. No, I don't think much about the ethicality of animals in cages, except that I do strongly believe the animals need the best zoo habitats they can get. The ones that don't really look like cages. So vote for your local zoo measures.
I believe in verbalizing my feelings. For example, I say "ow" a lot. Usually no lasting damage but I'm living in the moment. Go with it.
While I do not have a truly eidetic memory, it's close. Sometimes I think that might be because I either have a longer short-term memory buffer than most or that I have learned to move information from my short-term memory to my long-term memory more quickly than most. I think that most people don't have poor memories, they just don't actually pay attention.
People who don't pay attention really piss me off. This relates closely to people who are slow on the uptake. Those who are slow on the uptake because they're not really paying attention really piss me off.
I went to summer camp for eleven summers in a row.
Sometimes I suspect my parents didn't really want me around during the summer.
I have many fruit issues. I enjoy many fruits, but not when there is work for me involved. Biting into an apple occupies one hand until you are finished. Cutting up the apple is a lot of work. Hence, I don't eat a lot of apples even though I really like them. Mostly I just eat bananas since they only tie up one hand for less than two minutes.
Yes, fruit issues.
I got a perfect score in spelling on the Washington Pre-College Test.
I don't understand not knowing how to spell. There is one way to spell a word. Everything else is wrong.
I hate to be wrong.
I was deemed too mentally healthy for therapy after one and a half sessions. Seriously. The psychologist kicked me out. Guess when you've been clinically depressed since you were seven, you learn how to deal.
I've been clinically depressed since I was seven. I took notes.
I like my antidepressants very much, thank you.
I have long suspected that I will never been confirmed by the Senate for any sort of federal position whatsoever.
I have also long suspected that this is enough for today. Revelation is good for the soul, but a job is better for the paycheck.
Cheers,
the CilleyGirl
Sunday, October 12, 2008
What have you done today to make you feel proud?
In the event you're not a TV junkie like me (or have a big butt like me), that's the theme song to The Biggest Loser. I don't watch it during the weeks but I try to catch the replay on Sunday evenings on the FLN network. During the week it makes me feel a little depressed to watch it, but I'm finding that it is much more motivating on a Sunday night. It helps to gather my oomph around me and to focus on starting the week on a good note.
So, what have I done today to make me feel proud?
Well, I cleaned up the yard, including raking leaves, when I really didn't feel like it. When it was exactly on the edge of "nah, I'll do it later in the week." When I knew that with the days ending earlier and earlier that it was highly unlikely that I would do it later in the week. Even when I was picking up the yard I was on the edge of saying "yeah, that's enough, I'll rake next weekend." Two of my least favorite chores, particularly in tandem (cause you can't see to pick up anything for all of the leaves, dammit), but I did them.
I also did big grocery shopping today. I'm tired of going what feels like every few days. Because money is tight, I've been trying to buy only what I need at that very moment and putting off the things that I need but can wait another week or so (like paper towels or stuff for breakfast next weekend). I haven't wanted to cook a lot lately. I don't know why. I haven't been eating really horribly, but there've been enough pizza and wings incidents that I know that eventually they'll add up. On my ass.
So, I made a list and then I shopped. Got four whole bags of groceries plus four 12-packs of soda, all for under $100. The only "bad" things I bought were a couple of bags of Halloween candy. I usually don't get trick or treaters, but I like to be prepared. Plus, with some candy at home it makes it easier not to eat any at work because I can have it as a treat after dinner rather than mindlessly munching (and associating it with stress eating) during the day.
Then I made dinner tonight. Baked chicken breast, rice, creamed corn, and salad. I'm still just a tad hungry but dessert tonight will be a piece of candy and a honeycrisp apple and maybe a small glass of milk. That will be perfect. Lunch is already made for tomorrow, and all I'll have to do for dinner is make a salad and reheat the rest (either leftover chicken or ravioli with meat sauce). Yay me!
And what have you done today to make you feel proud?
--the CG
So, what have I done today to make me feel proud?
Well, I cleaned up the yard, including raking leaves, when I really didn't feel like it. When it was exactly on the edge of "nah, I'll do it later in the week." When I knew that with the days ending earlier and earlier that it was highly unlikely that I would do it later in the week. Even when I was picking up the yard I was on the edge of saying "yeah, that's enough, I'll rake next weekend." Two of my least favorite chores, particularly in tandem (cause you can't see to pick up anything for all of the leaves, dammit), but I did them.
I also did big grocery shopping today. I'm tired of going what feels like every few days. Because money is tight, I've been trying to buy only what I need at that very moment and putting off the things that I need but can wait another week or so (like paper towels or stuff for breakfast next weekend). I haven't wanted to cook a lot lately. I don't know why. I haven't been eating really horribly, but there've been enough pizza and wings incidents that I know that eventually they'll add up. On my ass.
So, I made a list and then I shopped. Got four whole bags of groceries plus four 12-packs of soda, all for under $100. The only "bad" things I bought were a couple of bags of Halloween candy. I usually don't get trick or treaters, but I like to be prepared. Plus, with some candy at home it makes it easier not to eat any at work because I can have it as a treat after dinner rather than mindlessly munching (and associating it with stress eating) during the day.
Then I made dinner tonight. Baked chicken breast, rice, creamed corn, and salad. I'm still just a tad hungry but dessert tonight will be a piece of candy and a honeycrisp apple and maybe a small glass of milk. That will be perfect. Lunch is already made for tomorrow, and all I'll have to do for dinner is make a salad and reheat the rest (either leftover chicken or ravioli with meat sauce). Yay me!
And what have you done today to make you feel proud?
--the CG
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Life with dogs
A few years ago, my dogs figured out that there might be something for them in the bags I bring home. I tend to do my grocery shopping on weekends but whenever I have to go during the week (meaning they've had to be stuck inside for an extra hour or so), I try to bring them home a special treat. It's gotten to the point where I can't leave a bag (paper or plastic) on the floor without one of them sticking her head into it. Usually Maggie, usually after she's loaded up her flews with water.
So, whenever I bring home bags they follow me closely, hoping for treats. I in fact tell them that I have brought them treats, as I am apologizing for leaving them in the house so long without a potty break.
The rule in the house is that only good dogs who eat all their dinner will get treats. The dogs understand this phrase.
Last night, I had Maggie underfoot as I was trying to unload the groceries. She was in no mood to wait for me to unload the groceries and then feed them dinner before they got their treats. For fun (because I am evil), I started showing everything I was unpacking from the bags. A bunch of bananas. Grapes. A four pack of yogurt. A gallon of milk. With each item, she'd bounce as I held it out to her. Then she'd sniff it very carefully. After a few sniffs, she would back away and shake her head. This went on through two bags of groceries, at least 25 different items. Ginger was watching, but not really sniffing (she's a herding dog, all about conserving energy).
Finally, I got down to it. A box of dog biscuits. Maggie sniffed -- and then shook her head. No? I held them out to Ginger. Ginger was much more interested. The box was sealed, but she clearly knew there may be something good about these.
Then I pulled out the big chewy dog bones. Maggie bounced and bounced and bounced and sniffed....
And shook her head again.
My dog is not very bright.
She did know, though, that I did get them a treat, because I had told them so. And I never lie to my dogs. Hardly ever. Okay, occasionally I tell them the truth.
I fed them, reminded them of the good dogs rule. Ginger ate hers right down, but Maggie was holding out for the treats. A fifteen minute battle of wills later, she finally ate her food. And they got their treats. And all was silent in the CilleyHouse for at least a quarter of an hour. Then Maggie finished hers, gargoyled over Ginger for a while trying to steal her bone, then came and tried to convince me that I in fact had another treat hidden away just for her. I did not, but she didn't believe me.
Because I lie to my dogs. It's fun. You should try it.
And one of these days I'll tell you how they are with Christmas presents.
--the CilleyGirl
So, whenever I bring home bags they follow me closely, hoping for treats. I in fact tell them that I have brought them treats, as I am apologizing for leaving them in the house so long without a potty break.
The rule in the house is that only good dogs who eat all their dinner will get treats. The dogs understand this phrase.
Last night, I had Maggie underfoot as I was trying to unload the groceries. She was in no mood to wait for me to unload the groceries and then feed them dinner before they got their treats. For fun (because I am evil), I started showing everything I was unpacking from the bags. A bunch of bananas. Grapes. A four pack of yogurt. A gallon of milk. With each item, she'd bounce as I held it out to her. Then she'd sniff it very carefully. After a few sniffs, she would back away and shake her head. This went on through two bags of groceries, at least 25 different items. Ginger was watching, but not really sniffing (she's a herding dog, all about conserving energy).
Finally, I got down to it. A box of dog biscuits. Maggie sniffed -- and then shook her head. No? I held them out to Ginger. Ginger was much more interested. The box was sealed, but she clearly knew there may be something good about these.
Then I pulled out the big chewy dog bones. Maggie bounced and bounced and bounced and sniffed....
And shook her head again.
My dog is not very bright.
She did know, though, that I did get them a treat, because I had told them so. And I never lie to my dogs. Hardly ever. Okay, occasionally I tell them the truth.
I fed them, reminded them of the good dogs rule. Ginger ate hers right down, but Maggie was holding out for the treats. A fifteen minute battle of wills later, she finally ate her food. And they got their treats. And all was silent in the CilleyHouse for at least a quarter of an hour. Then Maggie finished hers, gargoyled over Ginger for a while trying to steal her bone, then came and tried to convince me that I in fact had another treat hidden away just for her. I did not, but she didn't believe me.
Because I lie to my dogs. It's fun. You should try it.
And one of these days I'll tell you how they are with Christmas presents.
--the CilleyGirl
Saturday, September 20, 2008
I love CilleyLand
Because of stuff like this and this.
In other news (cause it is all about me), the CilleyGirl joined a bowling league and our first match was this past week. We got our asses kicked, but that's okay because we got our team motto out of it: We Suck. It goes well with our team name, Woody's Peckers. Say it together with me -- Woody's Peckers: We Suck. I'm hoping to put together a graphic of Woody Woodpecker with a strategically placed bowling pin and two balls. Blue, of course. I'll post it here if I manage to swing it (no pun intended. oh, who am I kidding?)
Luckily, however, out of the six teams in our league, two others suck as well and so far even worse than we do. Updates to come!
- the CilleyGirl
In other news (cause it is all about me), the CilleyGirl joined a bowling league and our first match was this past week. We got our asses kicked, but that's okay because we got our team motto out of it: We Suck. It goes well with our team name, Woody's Peckers. Say it together with me -- Woody's Peckers: We Suck. I'm hoping to put together a graphic of Woody Woodpecker with a strategically placed bowling pin and two balls. Blue, of course. I'll post it here if I manage to swing it (no pun intended. oh, who am I kidding?)
Luckily, however, out of the six teams in our league, two others suck as well and so far even worse than we do. Updates to come!
- the CilleyGirl
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Everybody needs a hobby
I don't know why this article amuses me so much. But it does.
And so does this one.
This one too. Second place on the backhoe! Woo hoo!
Just one more. I hope. Note that he broke his own record.
I wonder if you have to plant those daffodils along Oleson or you can take them home to plant them. Because I love daffodils. I've been to a festival and everything.
-the CG
P.S. On a related note, thank god they finally finished that damn road.
And so does this one.
This one too. Second place on the backhoe! Woo hoo!
Just one more. I hope. Note that he broke his own record.
I wonder if you have to plant those daffodils along Oleson or you can take them home to plant them. Because I love daffodils. I've been to a festival and everything.
-the CG
P.S. On a related note, thank god they finally finished that damn road.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Summer memories
I was thinking a lot today about Camp Sealth. Every summer, between the ages of 6 and 17, I went off to Camp Sealth. I think I started with three days and by my years at a CIT (counselor in training) I was there for three weeks (with a one week break in there to go home and do laundry, have caffeine, etc.).
Seems kind of odd now that my mom sent me off for three days as a six year old, although that first year I did go with a buddy (was it Tanna? I think it was Tanna). I, of course, always wanted to go to camp for longer, but mom was either smarter than me or we couldn't afford it. Probably a combination of the two: I always couldn't wait to go to camp each summer, but until the summer before 9th grade I was always pretty miserable while I was there. See, I was a big ol' crybaby for a good part of my childhood. Unfortunately, I'd have to say my childhood lasted until was about 24. I know now that it's a chemical thing -- I had my first bout of clinical depression at age 7 plus my ovaries don't work properly -- but that's a whole 'nother blog. I was also effectively an only child and therefore very much into getting my own way. Plus I had an emotionally and verbally abusive stepfather and.... well, a whole 'nother blog.
Anyhow, I can say with confidence that it was a chemical thing, as evidence by about half the problems going away when I was 24 thanks to one medication and the other half going away when I was about 30 thanks to another medication. But that didn't help much when I was a whiny, crying, bossy little bitch of a child that most other kids really didn't like all that much. Let's just say I've burned a lot of bridges in my time. I came to expect other kids not to like me (a problem that does still exist to this day) and it was generally a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Moving on, as a consequence I both loved and hated camp until my 9th grade year at which time I had an epiphany. Nobody at camp knew I was a whiny, crying, bossy little bitch. I could pretend I was really a cool and awesome kid with the fabulously crazy ideas, the one that was stuck behind all the bad moods and overreactions. And you know what? It worked.
That year, I was the one everyone in the cabin looked to for fun and for guidance (by that time, I'd been coming to Sealth for eight years and I knew everything about that place; I eventually became a "lifer" which means you've been coming for ten years and you get a ceremony and a plaque and everything). I was the instigator of nude Jane Fonda. I was the one who pointed out that the ice cream we were making really did need eggs (unfortunately, they didn't listen and we ended up with soft serve ice cream). I was the one who knew every camp song they did, better than the gal whose job it was to lead us in songs after meals (she was like Julie, our Cruise Director). They pulled me up onto the stairs to lead songs while we were waiting for meals. I was a star. I have a friend from that year whom I am still in touch with. I kept the mindset in later years and each year got better and better. My last two years, I was a CIT, discovered I prefer little boys to little girls (not in that way, you dirty people), and kept some of those friendships alive for years (another blog on that one some day). And of course I gathered a billion happy memories to me that I pull out on days when I'm feeling blue.
There was nude Jane Fonda, as I've mentioned. Okay, not nude -- we were wearing bras. I don't think they really had sports bras in the mainstream yet. I was the only one who would've even been close to needing one anyhow (C cup by end of high school, baybee). Unfortunately, our aerobics coincided with the spotting of someone on camp grounds who didn't belong. I'm pretty sure he was skulking around before all this, but apparently we could be seen to some extent from the orchard below. Party poopers.
Oh, and in the nude Jane Fonda year we girls were so disappointed because instead of having one cabin of girls and one cabin of boys in our session, the other cabin was chock full of Japanese exchange students. Granted, they were all boys and one girl (she was so traumatized by us, I'm sure) but hmm, not the summer experience we were looking for. Did learn how to say "air raid" in Japanese (no PC in 1984, folks) and we were extremely amused by one guy we dubbed the Japanese Billy Idol. It was the hair. Those guys used more hair products than Elvis. Or Brad Pitt. Or Vidal Sassoon.
There were all the times I've looked back at the camp counselors and realized that I really have no gaydar. I'm sure one of my first counselors was a lesbian. Or heavily into the feminist movement where you don't shave. Then there were the camps we visited as CITs. Apparently after Sealth became co-ed in the mid-70s all the lesbians went to work at the Girl Scouts camp. There is a disturbing incident that comes to mind where we visiting CITs had to run the gauntlet of welcome through many cheering Girl Scout campers and counselors. Many bottoms were swatted and not one of them belonged to the two very cute male CITs or the very cute male driver (Chark! Tweet tweet, get out of the water!) we had with us that year. Nothing wrong with anyone's persuasion, whichever way they lean. The moral of the story is just that I have no gaydar and I never have. I'm still convinced Barry Manilow is straight.
There was the time I ended up at second base with another very cute male CIT in a squeaky camp bunk while five other CITs slept around us. Good kisser that guy. Another Scorpio. We stayed in touch for several years. I still have a piece of his pants on my camp tie from that summer.
Then there was the time I did a live-in as a CIT with one of the boys' cabins. A live-in was part of being a second year CIT where you spent a whole session (five days for this one, I think) shadowing a counselor with their cabin. I had started out with a girls' cabin (cause I thought I preferred working with girls) but some of the campers didn't show up and they disbanded my cabin so they moved me over to one of the boys' cabins. I became the darling of the Milky Way unit (four boys' cabins, at least 40 boys that session). All the Village girls (7th and 8th grade) were in love with my boys. I was the only girl allowed (by the boys) in any of their cabins in the unit. As part of the live-in, we did an overnight in the woods. It was me (couple months shy of my 17th birthday), two male counselors (probably about 19 or 20 years old), and 20 little boys age 6 to 12 in the woods. Somehow, practically every counselor in camp found a reason to do a walk through at our site (a few counselors, usually the leaders of a unit, were assigned to walk through each of the sites being occupied for an overnight to see how they were doing, if they needed anything -- kind of like a performance review combined with a what-did-you-forget-to-pack). We found it fairly amusing, the two counselors and I, mostly because this particular site was set up so that the sleeping shelter was some distance away from the main fire area. In other words, me and two guys are in sleeping bags hanging out by the fire and gossiping about counselors while all our campers are out of our (and their) sight, although we could still hear them if they needed us. So a counselor comes strolling up, sees we're off by ourselves and chats us up as long as they possibly can. They leave, then about 15 minutes later here comes another counselor. I think at least five of them came by our site that night. Really funny part, as I found out later, was that one of the counselors in that unit -- although not on the overnight with us -- was very interested in me. Wonder what ever happened to him?
I learned a lot of things at Camp Sealth. I started to learn that I could be who I was, not who anyone else expected me to be (or tried to force me to be). I learned to cook just about damn thing you could imagine on a camp fire. We're talking five course chinese meals here, people. Dinners cooked in foil. Dinners cooked in mailboxes. Cakes. This stuff was fantastic that we cooked. I learned to eat salad at summer camp (you always had to take at least three bluebird bites of anything before saying no). I learned how to sucker punch a guy. I learned you can smoke the leaves of some random bush in the woods wrapped up in toilet paper (aka "Shippy's Retreat"). I learned that I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. I learned that fairies are real. I learned that singing songs from the movie Grease 2 on a 45 minute hike through the woods will not endear you to anyone. I learned that the secret to a really fabulous camp fire is to use a plate. We nearly set the woods on fire one night. But it was a really fabulous camp fire.
--the CilleyCampingGirl
Seems kind of odd now that my mom sent me off for three days as a six year old, although that first year I did go with a buddy (was it Tanna? I think it was Tanna). I, of course, always wanted to go to camp for longer, but mom was either smarter than me or we couldn't afford it. Probably a combination of the two: I always couldn't wait to go to camp each summer, but until the summer before 9th grade I was always pretty miserable while I was there. See, I was a big ol' crybaby for a good part of my childhood. Unfortunately, I'd have to say my childhood lasted until was about 24. I know now that it's a chemical thing -- I had my first bout of clinical depression at age 7 plus my ovaries don't work properly -- but that's a whole 'nother blog. I was also effectively an only child and therefore very much into getting my own way. Plus I had an emotionally and verbally abusive stepfather and.... well, a whole 'nother blog.
Anyhow, I can say with confidence that it was a chemical thing, as evidence by about half the problems going away when I was 24 thanks to one medication and the other half going away when I was about 30 thanks to another medication. But that didn't help much when I was a whiny, crying, bossy little bitch of a child that most other kids really didn't like all that much. Let's just say I've burned a lot of bridges in my time. I came to expect other kids not to like me (a problem that does still exist to this day) and it was generally a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Moving on, as a consequence I both loved and hated camp until my 9th grade year at which time I had an epiphany. Nobody at camp knew I was a whiny, crying, bossy little bitch. I could pretend I was really a cool and awesome kid with the fabulously crazy ideas, the one that was stuck behind all the bad moods and overreactions. And you know what? It worked.
That year, I was the one everyone in the cabin looked to for fun and for guidance (by that time, I'd been coming to Sealth for eight years and I knew everything about that place; I eventually became a "lifer" which means you've been coming for ten years and you get a ceremony and a plaque and everything). I was the instigator of nude Jane Fonda. I was the one who pointed out that the ice cream we were making really did need eggs (unfortunately, they didn't listen and we ended up with soft serve ice cream). I was the one who knew every camp song they did, better than the gal whose job it was to lead us in songs after meals (she was like Julie, our Cruise Director). They pulled me up onto the stairs to lead songs while we were waiting for meals. I was a star. I have a friend from that year whom I am still in touch with. I kept the mindset in later years and each year got better and better. My last two years, I was a CIT, discovered I prefer little boys to little girls (not in that way, you dirty people), and kept some of those friendships alive for years (another blog on that one some day). And of course I gathered a billion happy memories to me that I pull out on days when I'm feeling blue.
There was nude Jane Fonda, as I've mentioned. Okay, not nude -- we were wearing bras. I don't think they really had sports bras in the mainstream yet. I was the only one who would've even been close to needing one anyhow (C cup by end of high school, baybee). Unfortunately, our aerobics coincided with the spotting of someone on camp grounds who didn't belong. I'm pretty sure he was skulking around before all this, but apparently we could be seen to some extent from the orchard below. Party poopers.
Oh, and in the nude Jane Fonda year we girls were so disappointed because instead of having one cabin of girls and one cabin of boys in our session, the other cabin was chock full of Japanese exchange students. Granted, they were all boys and one girl (she was so traumatized by us, I'm sure) but hmm, not the summer experience we were looking for. Did learn how to say "air raid" in Japanese (no PC in 1984, folks) and we were extremely amused by one guy we dubbed the Japanese Billy Idol. It was the hair. Those guys used more hair products than Elvis. Or Brad Pitt. Or Vidal Sassoon.
There were all the times I've looked back at the camp counselors and realized that I really have no gaydar. I'm sure one of my first counselors was a lesbian. Or heavily into the feminist movement where you don't shave. Then there were the camps we visited as CITs. Apparently after Sealth became co-ed in the mid-70s all the lesbians went to work at the Girl Scouts camp. There is a disturbing incident that comes to mind where we visiting CITs had to run the gauntlet of welcome through many cheering Girl Scout campers and counselors. Many bottoms were swatted and not one of them belonged to the two very cute male CITs or the very cute male driver (Chark! Tweet tweet, get out of the water!) we had with us that year. Nothing wrong with anyone's persuasion, whichever way they lean. The moral of the story is just that I have no gaydar and I never have. I'm still convinced Barry Manilow is straight.
There was the time I ended up at second base with another very cute male CIT in a squeaky camp bunk while five other CITs slept around us. Good kisser that guy. Another Scorpio. We stayed in touch for several years. I still have a piece of his pants on my camp tie from that summer.
Then there was the time I did a live-in as a CIT with one of the boys' cabins. A live-in was part of being a second year CIT where you spent a whole session (five days for this one, I think) shadowing a counselor with their cabin. I had started out with a girls' cabin (cause I thought I preferred working with girls) but some of the campers didn't show up and they disbanded my cabin so they moved me over to one of the boys' cabins. I became the darling of the Milky Way unit (four boys' cabins, at least 40 boys that session). All the Village girls (7th and 8th grade) were in love with my boys. I was the only girl allowed (by the boys) in any of their cabins in the unit. As part of the live-in, we did an overnight in the woods. It was me (couple months shy of my 17th birthday), two male counselors (probably about 19 or 20 years old), and 20 little boys age 6 to 12 in the woods. Somehow, practically every counselor in camp found a reason to do a walk through at our site (a few counselors, usually the leaders of a unit, were assigned to walk through each of the sites being occupied for an overnight to see how they were doing, if they needed anything -- kind of like a performance review combined with a what-did-you-forget-to-pack). We found it fairly amusing, the two counselors and I, mostly because this particular site was set up so that the sleeping shelter was some distance away from the main fire area. In other words, me and two guys are in sleeping bags hanging out by the fire and gossiping about counselors while all our campers are out of our (and their) sight, although we could still hear them if they needed us. So a counselor comes strolling up, sees we're off by ourselves and chats us up as long as they possibly can. They leave, then about 15 minutes later here comes another counselor. I think at least five of them came by our site that night. Really funny part, as I found out later, was that one of the counselors in that unit -- although not on the overnight with us -- was very interested in me. Wonder what ever happened to him?
I learned a lot of things at Camp Sealth. I started to learn that I could be who I was, not who anyone else expected me to be (or tried to force me to be). I learned to cook just about damn thing you could imagine on a camp fire. We're talking five course chinese meals here, people. Dinners cooked in foil. Dinners cooked in mailboxes. Cakes. This stuff was fantastic that we cooked. I learned to eat salad at summer camp (you always had to take at least three bluebird bites of anything before saying no). I learned how to sucker punch a guy. I learned you can smoke the leaves of some random bush in the woods wrapped up in toilet paper (aka "Shippy's Retreat"). I learned that I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. I learned that fairies are real. I learned that singing songs from the movie Grease 2 on a 45 minute hike through the woods will not endear you to anyone. I learned that the secret to a really fabulous camp fire is to use a plate. We nearly set the woods on fire one night. But it was a really fabulous camp fire.
--the CilleyCampingGirl
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Guess who's coming to dinner?
It's you!
I was bored tonight so I took out the camera while I was cooking my dinner. So you get to come along for the ride. Heh.
Tonight's menu is a small green salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, steak, baked potato with sour cream, glazed carrots, and a whole wheat roll. Total calories: 614.
To cook tonight's steak extravaganzaa I had to fire up this big-ass grill....
Oooh, very pretty.
I was bored tonight so I took out the camera while I was cooking my dinner. So you get to come along for the ride. Heh.
Tonight's menu is a small green salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, steak, baked potato with sour cream, glazed carrots, and a whole wheat roll. Total calories: 614.
To cook tonight's steak extravaganzaa I had to fire up this big-ass grill....
To cook this itty bitty steak.....
Don't blame me. The grill belonged to my ex. He left it behind along with the dog.
I definitely got the better end of the deal. That's her waiting down below for a chance to lick the plate and maybe get a bite of steak. Speaking of which, let's see how it's doing, shall we?
Oooh, very pretty. And very lonely here on this big grill with no one to keep it company but a roll (the baked potato was in the microwave.
All in all, it was a successful dinner. I love those glazed carrots.
I typically cook every night. My budget doesn't stretch to eating out every night, and neither do my jeans. Earlier this week there were turkey bacon burgers with roasted potatos and baked beans. Also some carrots. Did I mention I like glazed carrots? Tomorrow will again be steak, freshly grilled on the big-ass grill. After that, maybe turkey burgers, maybe chicken caesar salad. This weekend? I'm thinking salmon.
Hungry now? Good!
--the CilleyCookingGirl
Sunday, September 07, 2008
What's love got to do with it?
I was asked recently what I thought love was. It's not something I've really tried to formulate into words, so consequently I've been thinking a lot about it.
I think people are like pieces of a puzzle. We each have one of those pieces that pokes out and one of those places where another piece pops in. It doesn't mean we're incomplete on our own; the net effect is zero. But our own pieces don't fit together. For one thing, we don't bend that way. For another, the pieces are different sizes. So we look in others for the pieces that fit ours, and in turn fit theirs.
Some people never find another who fits. Maybe their pieces are too big for yours, or yours are too small; either way, the balance is tipped. You can go on like that; some people are willing to stay with a partner who meets most although not all of their needs. they believe, for whatever reason, that they should stay; close is good enough in light of the risk that they'll never find the piece that fits.
Some people believe it's worse to have a piece that doesn't fit. Again, we're not less without the other piece, but rather than with them we're more. If we find the other piece, it's the brass ring. If not, we get along.
There may be more than one perfect fit. And others are so close, you'd never notice. All of it depends on you and how you want to live your life and how you want to be a part of another's.
I've only lived with one person in my thirty-mumble years. He wasn't a good fit by any means. But it's all I have to gauge whether what I'd like to have in a relationship is really feasible. I think it is.
I want someone who complements me. I'm introverted, nearly socially phobic in certain situations. I have no problem striking up a conversation in an anonymous setting, like a department store. I'll chat about all sorts of things with the cashier ringing up my purchases. But put me in a setting where a relationship is supposed to result and on my own I can not do it. The other night I was at a mixer where people were there to meet their sports teams. As luck would have it, it turns out I was the only person there who didn't have a team. As I looked around at everyone else getting to know their teammates, I felt absolutely excluded. My approach to most social situations like this is, why would anyone want to talk to me? In this instance, where everyone had a reason to talk to everyone but me, I was frozen. I couldn't make myself go up to anyone. They were meeting their teammates, I wasn't a teammate, why would they want to talk to me? And I left, as soon as I could.
Anyone who doesn't have this problem is reading this and thinking I'm crazy. But a phobia isn't rational.
Now, in a relationship I'd want a partner who wouldn't push me out of my comfort zone but rather would lead me out of it. Take me by the hand, walk up to the nearest stranger or two and say "Hi! I'm blah, and this is my girlfriend/fiancee/wife." After that, I can do it. I can take it from there. It's that first step that I need someone to help me to take.
So, requirement one: Someone whose strengths are my weaknesses. And vice versa. Because, oddly, if he needed me to walk up with him to strangers and strike up a conversation? I could do that. Yes, I know it makes no sense. Again, phobia, no rational.
What else? Requirement two: Physically intimate. I need affection. I need to show affection. Not sex (or at least not just sex), but all the thousand little touches between two people. I've kind of been saving up.
Requirement three: Someone who wants to take care of me, and who wants and lets me take care of him. I'm a big nester. I've always wanted a home and someone to take care of. I've gotten used to taking care of myself, and it can be a little difficult to let someone take care of me but I'm willing to try.
Requirement four: Shared and separate interests. I want things we can do together, but also some things we can do apart. Again, big nester. I like to read. I like to watch TV. Go off and scale mountains or something while I do that. Then later we'll have things to talk about.
I'll put some more thought into this and see what else I come up. Such a serious topic for a CilleyGirl.
Today,
the Not-So-CilleyGirl
I think people are like pieces of a puzzle. We each have one of those pieces that pokes out and one of those places where another piece pops in. It doesn't mean we're incomplete on our own; the net effect is zero. But our own pieces don't fit together. For one thing, we don't bend that way. For another, the pieces are different sizes. So we look in others for the pieces that fit ours, and in turn fit theirs.
Some people never find another who fits. Maybe their pieces are too big for yours, or yours are too small; either way, the balance is tipped. You can go on like that; some people are willing to stay with a partner who meets most although not all of their needs. they believe, for whatever reason, that they should stay; close is good enough in light of the risk that they'll never find the piece that fits.
Some people believe it's worse to have a piece that doesn't fit. Again, we're not less without the other piece, but rather than with them we're more. If we find the other piece, it's the brass ring. If not, we get along.
There may be more than one perfect fit. And others are so close, you'd never notice. All of it depends on you and how you want to live your life and how you want to be a part of another's.
I've only lived with one person in my thirty-mumble years. He wasn't a good fit by any means. But it's all I have to gauge whether what I'd like to have in a relationship is really feasible. I think it is.
I want someone who complements me. I'm introverted, nearly socially phobic in certain situations. I have no problem striking up a conversation in an anonymous setting, like a department store. I'll chat about all sorts of things with the cashier ringing up my purchases. But put me in a setting where a relationship is supposed to result and on my own I can not do it. The other night I was at a mixer where people were there to meet their sports teams. As luck would have it, it turns out I was the only person there who didn't have a team. As I looked around at everyone else getting to know their teammates, I felt absolutely excluded. My approach to most social situations like this is, why would anyone want to talk to me? In this instance, where everyone had a reason to talk to everyone but me, I was frozen. I couldn't make myself go up to anyone. They were meeting their teammates, I wasn't a teammate, why would they want to talk to me? And I left, as soon as I could.
Anyone who doesn't have this problem is reading this and thinking I'm crazy. But a phobia isn't rational.
Now, in a relationship I'd want a partner who wouldn't push me out of my comfort zone but rather would lead me out of it. Take me by the hand, walk up to the nearest stranger or two and say "Hi! I'm blah, and this is my girlfriend/fiancee/wife." After that, I can do it. I can take it from there. It's that first step that I need someone to help me to take.
So, requirement one: Someone whose strengths are my weaknesses. And vice versa. Because, oddly, if he needed me to walk up with him to strangers and strike up a conversation? I could do that. Yes, I know it makes no sense. Again, phobia, no rational.
What else? Requirement two: Physically intimate. I need affection. I need to show affection. Not sex (or at least not just sex), but all the thousand little touches between two people. I've kind of been saving up.
Requirement three: Someone who wants to take care of me, and who wants and lets me take care of him. I'm a big nester. I've always wanted a home and someone to take care of. I've gotten used to taking care of myself, and it can be a little difficult to let someone take care of me but I'm willing to try.
Requirement four: Shared and separate interests. I want things we can do together, but also some things we can do apart. Again, big nester. I like to read. I like to watch TV. Go off and scale mountains or something while I do that. Then later we'll have things to talk about.
I'll put some more thought into this and see what else I come up. Such a serious topic for a CilleyGirl.
Today,
the Not-So-CilleyGirl
Thursday, September 04, 2008
What to say?
Hmm, I thought I'd figure out what to say when I started to write, but so far no dice. I guess I will try again later!
Still Cilley,
That Girl
Still Cilley,
That Girl
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