World on Fire

 

Or maybe its just the microwave in the caf. This has been one of those weeks, friends.

Yes all is not lost, and the wheels of the world are turning while the gear of time continues to grind away  my life.  But today. Today marked a new milestone for forehead slapping, logic defining moments for me.

 

It was worse than my son walking home from school on Monday when he didn’t get picked up ( it’s a 20 minute drive which equaled a 1.75 hour walk) –

 

worse than getting caught in my jogging pants on the way to the gym during the inauguration in D.C.,

 

and maybe worse than losing my journal ( It mysteriously disappeared this weekend).  

Today will be marked on the calendar for all time.

It was the spilling of my lunch that sent me over the edge this week. I had saved it especially for today. It was butter chicken and garlic naan bought from Shan E Darbar on Airport Road ( their food is heavenly). Oh how I recall the buttery smell of its sauce as it melted over the spiced oven baked flat bread. This was all before I got out of the elevator while trying to hold a conversation with a very … pervasive individual – and then it happened. It wasn’t just a spill or topple – it was an all out somersault of the plastic container that left my food – ALL OF MY FOOD on the carpet with not a morsel to spare. Did I mention how famished I was? I almost cried.

 

When I got back to my desk, my colleague saw my grief stricken face and then at my empty container. She offered a portion of her own lunch which I accepted with gratitude. From Indian to Lebanese fare. Sounded like a plan. Of course, that was until the microwave caught on fire.  I carelessly assumed that the bread was wrapped in paper before tossing it in for 30 seconds, but it was actually aluminum foil on the inside. Yeah….

So as I was gleefully watching President Obama address the nation – I was simultaneously burning the company to the ground – whilst preparing something to eat. Now that is what I call multi tasking.

 

P.S.

 

The bread was delicious …and the microwave has never been cleaner.  

 

 

This is just one of those days.

 

Stay safe,

 

Dee

The Kilometre that nearly killed me

Yeah – about that kilometer Sooo I’m not sure if I actually ran that kilometer – but I may have walked it. At Heartland Town Centre – that is!!!

I practiced my favourite exercise of all. Its the art of  Salegala. Salegala is an ancient form of mediatation and excercise that provides balance. It can be done alone or with friends, but what I love about it most is that even if you only do it one time – you can see AND feel the results.

 I use it as an alternative to my previously discussed 1 Km routine, so that I still get my time-out time and my cardio. Today’s regimin  included a lot of pacing back and forth between the isles…at Costa Blanca, and mastering the art of  yoga-like Tree poses whilst trying on shoes.

 I’ve been meaning to go back to the gym – but I was busy today and yesterday and the three days before that – so I was glad I had my Salegala routine to fall back on because it sure makes a girl feel good.  I’m back to my old routine this week and i’ve thrown in some creative moves by taking the stairs all the time and purposely coming late to work so that I have to park my car all the way at the end of the bloody parking lot. The minus 20 degree weather is a …motivator to walk faster, harder and drive that blood pressure – I mean  – hearbeat all the way up.

 I just thought you should know how it was all coming along – this new fitness fad I’ve adopted.

Next week – I’ll get right back on the wagon. Its never a lost cause.

See you at the finish line!

Dee

One km at a time

 

It often makes me wonder what it is that motivates someone to pick up a new habit or drop an old one.  I was reading a chapter on ‘self control’ that describe the means by which we achieve it. Immediately I felt a pang of envy towards B F Skinner who has been described as the most discipline of men, and as a result was able to live a very fulfilling life.

Now I think my life is pretty good – but I know that there are other things I can be doing – should be doing and in the future WILL be doing – so how will I know how to be disciplined when that time comes? It takes practice and perseverance and it was not just going to show up on a plate from the kitchen at Milestones – so I would have to earn it myself.

 

Not to dwell on the subject, but the bathing suit fiasco I mentioned earlier, was a motivator for me to hit the gym. Or maybe it was the fact that I was going on vacation and would be expected to fit decently into the clothes I already have because I cannot afford to purchase a new spring wardrobe.  Or it could also be the monstrous layer of fat I spotted on my outer thighs – or when I realized that I was over 110 lbs. I’m barely five feet – with a petite frame, so don’t you go giving me stank eye. It just came out of NOWHERE.

 

The point is – whatever it was that motivated me – those are the recurring images that keep me going when I decide to go the gym. Last week I went to the gym about four times to get a good run. The first day I managed to run 1km in 20 mins. The second day I ran .5km and added 15mins of weights. The next day I did another 1.4 km and it felt great. By Friday I did 10 mins and didn’t care. I was pooped. By Friday evening there was no evidence of that layer of fat on my legs – and I could actually button my pants up all the way to the top! Now this is what I call saving money!

 

Funny enough I thought the defeat I suffered at Victoria’s hands  didn’t last very long. Lets see…I got it on Wednesday and tried it on … after that disaster – I kept working out – ever though I knew that I would likely be wearing a t shirt on the beach of Mexico….  I did NOT become despondent! I continued onward and forward.

 

But today is Monday. Monday is a new day. I did not go to the gym. ‘Why not?’ ,you ask? Oh – how about that note from reception reminding me that my gym fees are now due? What timing!

 

So I’m going to press on with a slightly different strategy. To keep with my other new year’s promise to save money where I can – I will find a way to keep getting my exercise at a set cost until I can save for another gym membership. Here is my master plan:

 

I find that my right leg gets plenty a workout pressing the gas and break pedals in my car ; perhaps I can switch it up by getting my left foot involved

- ditto for my drum play in ‘Rock Band’.

 

When I watch 24 tonight I will jog in one spot every time a commercial comes on and during Y&R I’ll tuck my feet under the coffee table and do sit ups every time Colleen or Amber show up onscreen. Actually I can add Neil, Tyra, Karen, and the sappy siblings to that list too. 

 

Whatever it takes – I will get in my exercise kilometer today if it eats me alive. I ’m going to master the art of self control one kilometer at a time.

I’ve found ‘Victoria’s Secret’

 It is a mystery no more. This age old secret hidden in the smiles, piercing glances and precocious poses of catalogue modeling has evaded me for years. After all the mystery, the ‘secret’ showed up in a simple white plastic envelope.

 

Maybe it was my impulsiveness or spontaneous states of delusion, but on a Saturday evening I was visualizing what I would be wearing on my upcoming vacation. In that moment I stumbled upon on email advertising the Victoria secret sale – I checked quickly to see if my pet, ‘Visa’ was in the mood to play (and lo she was) – and off the website I went. It was an overwhelming experience. The vast selection would have made the decision most painful for the average woman my age, but lucky me – I had no choice but to head straight to the ‘clearance’ tagged , 1 – piece, section of the swimsuit page.  I hoped to find something that didn’t scream ‘’ I’m a mother “or say right out ‘I’m not here to swim’. There MUST be something in between I hoped silently…..

 

And there it was…just stunning. A gorgeous, original and most of all, ON SALE swimsuit that was more sexy than some of the bikinis I had to surpass. Three clicks later and it was over before it began. I ordered it quickly (in a small) and thought about how much exercise would have to be done to attempt to fit into this outfit without embarrassing myself, my husband and our friends.  At 19.99 what did I have to lose?  Delivery was  express of course – because, in short,  I just could not wait (and other miscellaneous logical excuses).

 

Thinking back, I had heard my husband remark, ‘I like that one’. I could swear I did.   Anyway, I hit the gym the Monday after I placed my first online clothing order – just to get myself ready for the inevitable shock of the reality of my figure webbed in a ribbon of material. Three days later it showed up. I think I dropped everything. I dropped my keys, my purse, my manners .. and last but not least, 15 minutes later- I dropped my pride. I don’t think you need to be privy to all the dirty details of my plight but imagination is an innate gift, so use it wisely.   

 

Victoria’s secret is very simple folks.

 

The secret is this- the humans who model the swimwear have proportions mirroring that of perhaps 1 % of the population of potential buyers. So what if I pulled that number I really just pulled out of the air? Take a look around folks. Anyone under the age of 19, under the height of 5 ‘3, or with breasts larger than a peach need not apply or buy.

 

So I think you’re starting to paint a polite picture of my disappointing realization that all women are not created equal. The swimsuit is now on its way to the state where I would have worn it, to a much more deserving figure.  However, the mystery  continues.

 

Will the ‘small’ swimsuit be too big for a size 00 woman under 5’1? 

 

Will I find a swimsuit that I can wear – and take pictures in it?

 

Stay tuned for the dramatic results.