Things I Love Thursday - Part 18

And here we are for another edition of TILT.  Next Thursday is Thanksgiving and I will be in Phoenix visiting my family.  And you will all be busy eating and with family and hopefully not on the computer as well. 


Being on vacation for a few days is what brings me to today's TILT which is HAVING A ROUTINE. There is a special DISCLAIMER at the end of this post. 

Not this kind of routine:

But those guys are awesome, right?  and I am never far away from a full on dance routine of epic awkwardness at any moment. 

This is about the everyday, mundane, pretty predictable routine.

 

I do not do well with too much free time on my hands.  Vacations are always something that I look forward to and then when it comes down to it I get squirrelly.  Even weekends are sometimes hard for me. 

I need days where I get up even when every fiber of my being doesn't want to.  Then I get my ass in the bathroom and slap on my face - and I do mean slap as my make up routine takes four minutes.  Do something with my hair, sometimes that means brushing and sometimes not.  And get my ass out the door, on the train (WITH Dumpster Husband most mornings, which pretty much rules), and into work. 

most important part of my make up routine are my red red lips.

Now, this may seem like this TILT is about loving my job.  Which I do, but that's another TILT.  This one is about the ROUTINE.

The check list that gives my brain and body something to focus on.  When I don't have this routine my mind, soul and body suffer.  I don't do my meditations in my head first thing in the morning.  I don't do my hair and makeup.  I don't eat well.  I don't get to a meeting.  This list goes on. 

What seems so mundane, the everyday ROUTINE is what I love today.  It's something I never thought I would love and be thankful for, but there it is.  I am officially a square.  I love my routine every day and get kind of freaked out when something is different.   That shouldn't be shocking to anyone.

I really used to think that routine and 8 to 5 jobs meant boring.  But within the construct of that routine, so many things differ from day to day that I have absolutely no control over.  I have no control over anyone I encounter each day.  And there are many.  And THAT is the human connection that breaks the ROUTINE wide open and wreaks havoc on my serenity.  Sometimes in a bad way and sometimes in a very good way.

I follow the outline of my ROUTINE and for that I am rewarded with the everyday unknown that we all have.  It's what you do with it that counts.  Some days I handle it very poorly.  But I must say most days I go with it.  Life is too good to be crabby all the time. 

I LOVE MY ROUTINE. 

DISCLAIMER - I know full well this will all fly right out the window on the glorious day that we get a baby.  And I will happily adjust. 

It's a Good Old Fashioned Mugging

I've had more pepper spray containers than I can count. I have not ever had to use them.

I've been mugged three times.  My boss was talking about how dangerous the city is (!) again the other day as he has a habit of doing with me.  And I always counter with the suburbs are way scarier to me.  At least in the city the danger and crazy is right out in the open.  In the suburbs it's tucked away in garages and basements and sweater vests and Range Rovers.

I LOVE Chicago.  I say it all the time, but it's true.  Things like mugging don't make me want to run away and hide as I know the grass is always greener in the suburbs, right?  Taking the CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) trains are a sure fire way to put yourself in harms way.  But if you are careful and smart, it is just fine.  

Have you been mugged yet?  It is something that happens more often to women and, I believe, in big cities it's just expected and honestly doesn't really freak me out. 





Back in the days of wine and roses I put myself in dangerous situations all the time.  And nothing really terrible happened to me that was any worse than what I was doing to myself.  I think I felt like everything that happened to me was my own fault, which to a large extent it was.

But, I did get mugged 3 times.  And that is not my fault.  Nobody gets to come to me and grab my stuff because they don't have what they want or need.  Two of these times happened when I was living in Oak Park, which is a suburb just west of Chicago. 

One of them happened at 10am on a weekday, and this was the scariest one.  I was walking to the CTA blue line train to go to work and a guy jumped out of a doorway that was hidden.  He had a knife.  I calmly gave him my bag as I was taught to do.  I looked him right in the eyes.  He had the knife at my face and then at my throat.  Now, he took my bag.  Which had nothing of great value in it, but it scared me pretty badly. 

Of course I didn't report it because I was just barely hanging on to my own life at that point and wanted nothing more to do with the police than I already had on my own. 

Two other times were unremarkable.  One was on the blue line and again, I gave the guy my bag.  I had learned not to carry all my worldly belongings in one bag at all times due to being relieved of that bag once too often. 

The last time was several years ago and was again pretty straight forward.  Walking home from the train, it was dark out and the guy snuck up on me and grabbed my bag and ran.  People are desperate and want  money.  I get it.  I've been there.  It helps me as a general rule to understand people if I try to see a situation from their view.  Although I never stole a stranger's money, I can easily understand that desperation.  And I'm not sure how my gut knew to stay calm and just hand my bag over, but 9 out of 10 times that is all these desperate people want. And I have an easier time forgiving desperation once I went through it myself.  I looked them all right in the eyes.  I saw it.

Desperate people aren't necessarily bad people, they are just at the end of their rope.  You may think me silly for having such a view, but in the grand scheme of things, I cannot afford the luxury of holding onto anger or resentment.  I have to let that shit go.  And trying my best to see where desperate people are coming from helps me do that.  They didn't hurt me.  They stole from me. 

I had a conversation with one of my dear friends Dana recently and she said something to the effect of "People who do terrible things still don't think they are bad people".  And that has stuck in my head since she said it.  It's pretty profound.  With so much evil in the world, even the most evil doers don't think they bad people.  They think what they are doing is justified somehow.  Seriously.  That is some profound shit right there.  I did terrible things when I was an active alcoholic.  Terrible.  But would I have said at that time that I was a bad person?  No, I wouldn't have.

I'm fortunate.  Nothing really happened to me.  I'm grateful it hasn't happened for a long time and hope it doesn't ever again.  But I am ever vigilant.  I am constantly aware of my surroundings.  I don't ever completely trust people around me. 

My brother is a Police Officer and he is someone I admire so much for his vigilance and constant awareness to protect people around him. He was one of those kids who would dream of protecting my mom and me from dragons and bad guys.  He would have night terrors about it.  And that fierce protectiveness now translates into his job but he's never really off the job when it comes to protecting people.  It never stops.  He knows that people are not always what they seem, for different reasons than I have learned, but we both have a general unease in large groups.  Andy is also not someone who scolds.  He tries to help.  And that to me is the hallmark of a successful public servant and a man.  I am impressed by him.  I am not as extreme, but I do notice that my guard is rarely down. 

When I think about it I haven't let my guard down for years.  Watch your back in every situation.  And ultimately, isn't that a metaphor for life?  Never let your guard down.  People do continue to surprise me in a good way, but rarely in a bad way.

Things I Love Thursday - Part 17

It's about damn time I post about Divers.  Divers are what I affectionately call friends of the blog and the Facebook page.  As in Dumpster Divers, we all clear?

Now, when I started the blog I had no idea about linking it to a facebook page - which was started roughly August 15th, now with 2,699 fans as of right this second -  but once a couple people (Namely Nikki at Moms who Drink and Swear) shared it with fb land it was apparent I had to do something otherwise all you weirdos would be looking for me on my personal page, and we can't have that now can we?

Truly?  I annoy the fuck out of some of my personal fb friends.  On the IWADB page I can play and play and you Divers actually appreciate it.  THAT is gold my friends.  You saw this post about being  Slightly Awkward, right? 

You see, this

is your humble narrator. 

And while this is cute in a "sit in your high chair and I will give you dry spaghetti to eat while I cut your hair kind of way" - thanks mom! It soon gave way to this:

Which is the 1980's 6th grade version of hell.  You need further proof? 

This was my posse:

Have you ever in your life seen such explosive awesomeness?  I know, you are all humbled right now because you thought you could out-awkward ME.  Think again bitches. 

Want more?  OK, one more. 

There.  8th grade majesticness right here.  Complete with the half heart of my bff necklace. 

To combat my awkwardness I write and I post funny and meaningful-to-me shit that you seem to respond to Dear Divers.  !Awkwardamo! (super hero name?) never got better, I just drank through it and now emerge on the other side more awkward than ever, I just look hotter so it doesn't show it as much. 

So, today, this very special TILT is for you, the Divers who make my days brighter and more fun.  I don't feel so awkward around you all from behind my computer.  Sincerely and from the bottom of my cold, dead black heart, I thank you for reading and for playing along when I'm funny and for lending an ear and a hearty "you can do it and we love you" when I'm vulnerable.  I've met some great people and admins and found many new blogs that keep me steadily laughing and finding new ways to be grateful at the same time.

Some are drunk, some are sober, some are mommies,  some are babies (stop yelling at me baby!), some are perverts, some are vegans, some are daddies, some are baconfuckers, some are just here for the eye candy and some are just here for the Funny Friday Fotos.  All valid and encouraged reasons to play along with me. 

I've had a few people who I've banned to the far corners of the earth, but for the most part you are all lovely and funny people who I've enjoyed getting to know immensely.  Thank you for a great 3 months so far Divers! 

And to those of you who come and read and share the blog, well you get a very special lick on the face.  I adore you loyal readers and commenters most of all.  It's the reason for the FB page and also, the reason it's so fun to write this blog.  I will keep doing it and hope you will keep reading and sharing.

And for fun I give you one of the best little scenes I've seen in a long time. Enjoy the funny!

Fat Coats and Bra Drawers

I have a ton of clothes.  I have way more than is needed by a normal human being.  I tend to use the "if you haven't worn it in a year, get rid of it" rule.  But when you are a fat girl who's lost a bunch of weight (several times) this gets tricky. 

And can we talk about bra drawers please? I'm not speaking about some weird hybrid of bras and pants now, that would really send me over the edge. What would that even look like? Let's google it and see......

This is the best the google gave me.  Which is simply a bra and drawers.  

Maybe there is an untapped market for Bra Drawers

(COPYWRITTED AND TRADEMAKEY by IWADB)

I want a hybrid.  Now I'm obsessed.  Fuck.  See what happens in my brain?

How about this?




Well damn, that just looks like a jumpsuit. And I know my drawing is incredibly lifelike (I didn't even go to art school!) but I don't know how to draw pants as I always just draw prairie dresses apparently.

 Can we get back to my original point here?  Geesh.  I have a ton of clothes.  The worst offenders are bras and coats right now.  I have 800 coats and 900 bras.  In all different shapes and sizes and I'm terrified to let any of them go.  My bra drawer, which looks like this:

 

is comprised of everything from tiny bras to super fat nursing bras. 

Yeah, let that sink in.  I don't have kids, yo.

When you lose weight what is the first thing to go?  Yeah.  So, I have yo-yoed between bra sizes for 20 years.  It's crazy town. 

And the fat coats are another whole thing because coats are a passion of mine.  I love Chicago winters and love coats.  I take great care in picking out the right coat for the right occassion and therefore have a ton.  Some are retro thrift store finds and some are heavy duty puffy cold as tits Chicago winter coats. And I'm scared to give any of them away.  But we live in a little place with not a lot of room. 

AND, what if I get fat again?  Hopefully I get pregnant fat and then what?  But I am trying my best to say I won't get fat fat again.  But who ever thinks they will, right?

You see my dilemma. 

There should be an island of misfit coats and bras where they can all just hang out and be sad and dejected but we reserve the right to call them back into service if the case arises.  I want to use it as motivation to NOT get fat again to give away all my fat shit.  But, what about the BABY?  GOD.

For now, I will do the easy fix and throw it all in the dungeon storage in the basement and when I dream I will dream of Fat Coats and Bra Drawers having a sort of sad party in which they recall days of fat boobs and asses wearing them to their owners horror. 

Sometimes very late at night, I will hear the nursing bra letting out a gentle cry,

"why oh why lady, why did you use me as a fat bra? Oh the horror.  You wouldn't know what to do with a nursing bra if it bit you on the tit."

And then I respond back in my dream, "quiet you fatty nursing bra, I'm thinner now and I don't need your squishy fatty bra comfort any longer."  And then I go put on my reasonably sized bra without super industrial cross your heart straps and feel happy with what I've accomplished.  And also, continue to wish I could really be wearing a nursing bra some day soon.

 

Things I Love Thursday - Part 16

DON'T fuck it up.

 I LOVE RuPaul. 





I squeal with delight when I see him.

Yes, I am obsessed with RuPaul. He would be on my top 5 people I would want to meet and completely lose my shit over.  I admire and respect him so much.

And I LOVE fierce Drag Queens. Not all are fierce and not all are queens. Some are broke down bitches that I have no use for.  Some are not kind and not loving and definitely not fabulous.
Which means I am absolutely enthralled with RuPaul's Drag Race.

 

It's a competition reality show on LOGO between real life drag queens and it's wonderful and catty and inspiring.

And Drag U.

Where they take broke down middle age women who have had some hardship and they look and feel unspecial and turn their ass around to fabulous in an hour's time with the help of Professors who all happen to be from the RuPaul's Drag Race show.

Each show is special in it's own way.

And I secretly wish to be on this show.  But that would mean my ass would need to be broke down and sad.   And thankfully, I am not there today, kittens.

Drag Race is where I fell in love with yummy Raven:

Raja:

Every time I see this photo I thank the Universe for Raja:



 Perhaps my favorite, Pandora Boxx

Who is nice enough to tweet with me once in a while.  Funny and adorable.

It's no secret I love gay men and gay men love me.  While not every drag queen is gay, most are and most drag queens do have the level of confidence that I would kill for. 
Which is why I really REALLY want to be made over by a drag queen. 

I admit I do have a bit of fierce and fab in me as it is.  I just do.  Can't hide my light under a bushel, y'all.  I fear the older I get, the more I will need it, so let's just call this preparation for schlumpiness.  Which is about my greatest fear.  Shallow?  Yes, completely.  But still, there it is.

I have no desire to go on a TV show and have a come-to-Jesus in front of viewers.  But I would like a secret private session with Raven, Raja, Pandora Boxx and of course, RuPaul. 
Can someone arrange that for me please?





 





 

This is Awkward



I'm a bit much for folks. I'm like a dog. I get very very excited to see you.

 I have much more in common with dogs than I do with people.  I am an awkward person.  Surprise!  I am without the ability to act comfortably social.  I tend to either run away or go full force forward onto people with a wild eyed passion that I know can be off putting.  And yet, this is who I am.  I either don't do anything and act really painfully shy, or even worse, I start dry humping your leg with my enthusiasm, both are awkward. 

the comic that inspired this post.

I get too personal.  I ask too many questions.  I make people uncomfortable.  I genuinely want to know things about people and so I ask.  And I get myself in trouble sometimes.  But overall, WORTH IT.  And yet, knowing all this about myself, I don't really try to be "appropriate".  And actually I quite like being awkward.   There, I said it.

I would take being awkward over not giving a shit any day. But the problem really comes when I encounter another similarly awkward person.  We try to out-awkward each other.  Not on purpose, mind you, but it just happens naturally.  And when you witness an awkward stand off, it is about the most painful interaction you will ever see or hear.  There is much sighing and heaving and trying to fill the dead air with something, GOD, anything.  And it usually ends with someone saying, ".....so, yeah....." or something of the like because we can't seem to finish a sentence and just leave it at that.  Or, as I have done many times after filling a shopping cart full of stuff I can't make a decision on, I will just leave it and flee the scene.
Thank flying spaghetti monster for my job and AA and my family and real life friends and having to talk to people or else I would never get out from behind my computer.  I would be content to just form these relationships that can be thought out and planned, so much easier for a person who suffers from awkwardness.   I do much better from behind this wall, but the fear and awkwardness must be conquered!  Forcing myself to get out and talk to people *shudder*, is about the scariest thing for me to do.  And yet, I do it.  One day at a time, just like every other fucking thing.

WATCH THIS!  This is how I imagine I look pretty much all of the time in life.  Just this awkward weirdo pee pee move at all time. 
Link to Craig Ferguson Talking about Sex Education in Scotland
I know, I know.

And then there's the dancing, which doesn't happen very often and usually not when others are dancing, but just me by myself, looks almost identical to this:

I know, it's cliche and used a lot, but anyone who knows me would be hard pressed to disagree.

In closing, next time I come traipsing over and tackle you with licks and panting and tail wagging because of how much I adore you, don't be afraid, it's simply me being enthusiastic about you.  Or if I just act painfully shy, and  kind of ignore you?  It's because I don't really like you.  Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I like you that much more. 

Just give me a pat on the head and a kind word, and I will move along.  I will do my best not to drool on you. 

Jingle. at Best Friends DogTown.


 

Things I Love Thursday - Part 15

There are some days I look at the train tracks or a flight of stairs and see myself hurling downward. Today is not one of those days and really, they are fewer and fewer all the time. I'm a self destructive person by nature and that means I fight to keep my footing in reality every day.

This is not a morbid death wish or a call for help, so please don't worry. It's simply a statement of who I am and knowing that helps keep me rooted in reality and how good every day really is.



When I was a little girl I wanted to be a dump truck. Not drive the dump truck, simply be a dump truck.
The psychological impact of that I cannot even begin.....

What I'm thankful for today is that I know my reality and I am firmly planted in it.  I don't have delusions of grandeur and think I'm the shit anymore.  When I was a drunk and even for a long time afterwards I saw myself as something other than a grain of sand among a gazillion other grains of sand.  And I was wrong.  This seems to be a bad thing to some people, to say I'm not really all that unique, but to me it's comforting. This is what allows me to connect with other people rather than pushing them all away as hard as I can, as I used to do. 

I fought for so long to be different and special and it got me in such a downward spiral of "notgoodenough" and really, got me so sick and delusional I visited psych wards and rehabs and jails.  You all know that story. 

Many moons ago in another lifetime I was an actress.  I KNOW, RIGHT?  I have a BS in Theatre.  For real.  I couldn't hack it in that life because it is rough.  Agents told me from the get go, you need to lose weight and you need to get your teeth fixed.  And I ran away.  Live theatre was a different story in that it accepts just about everybody and really the less classically attractive you are the better.  So I was stuck in this place of being a not "pretty" enough ingenue or an unseasoned, unique looking enough character actor.  I used to be really bitter about that. 

Now, I haven't acted in years and don't know if I ever will again.  I don't feel the need, the drive to do it as so many actors I know have.  They must do it.  It's in their blood.  It's not in my blood.  And that's just fine.  I have everything I want and need in my life, save for a baby and that will come some how and some way, I'm sure of it.  And in the meantime DH and I have a fucking great life together.  Every couple should be so happy and have as much fun together as we do. 

So, after being sober for 10 years, I know less than ever and that is such a comforting thought.  I don't have to have all the answers.  I don't have to be the prettiest or the thinnest or the smartest or the biggest smart ass or knowitall.  This is called surrender.  And I do it every day - some days better than others.  And it saves my life every day.  I don't know shit.  Which is quite different from being a dumb ass.  And whenever I think about that, I smile.  And breathe. 

Things I Would Rather Do Than Go to WalMart

Divers on the Facebook page are some funny motherfuckers. 

Last time DH and I went to Wal-Mart, and to be clear, I made him go after dinner one night to buy candles.  That's all I wanted.

But we walk in and it's night time and it's a horror show. 
There were creepy people in every single row and there was a bird in the card aisle. Now I know there are birds in all big spaces - airports, malls, even the Tower gets birds. But we don't usually see them. This little bird was just sitting in the middle of the aisle, clearly something wrong. I think he was as mortified at WalMart as most of us are. You know that ass sniffing face that cats make, like they are just so offended that cat ass would smell like that?


"hmmm, I wonder what this will smell like, I bet delightful"

 


"oh my fucking christ can you believe that shit hole smells like that???"



Bill O here came up when I was searching google for "ass sniffing cat face". 

 That above is what I imagine the inner dialogue of this little bird was.  Two nice WalMart employees came over and picked the bird up and took it outside.
The thing about WalMart that freaks me out the most, and there is a lot that freaks me out, and I am not going to feel bad about being snooty in this way.  You think about all the half dressed, poorly hygienated, stank ass, greasy mofos (adult types and childy types) in WalMart, and then think about them touching EVERY SINGLE THING IN THE STORE.  I just can't deal.  I am throwing up in my mouth just writing that.  I think of cheeto/chickenwing fingers and blue mouths and just get skeeved.

Now, I am not a germaphobe.  I believe in washing my hands, a lot, and I am not one for touching things if I don't have to, but there are sites like People of WalMart for a reason.  Because terrifying people go there.  I understand it's cheap, and you have families to feed and clothe.  I am not judging you for your purchasing choices, and I won't get into things being made in sweat shops and all that stuff. 

My brother has always been so skeeved out by second hand shops, he swears we get gingivitis just from walking into one of those places. But I'm MORE skeeved out by WalMart.  I shop at Village Thrift and the Salvation Army even on occasion.  I am no stranger to used, old stuff.  But much of that is good decent stuff rather than shoes for a $1 that have barbecue sauce all over them before they even leave the store. 

There's always big fighting over whether there should be a big box store in the city, and I know, people need jobs.  I get it.  But what is it about WalMart that more so than any other store, brings out the cray cray?

In closing and before y'all yell at me about being uppity about the kinds of folks who frequent every single WalMart on the planet, I would just like to say it take A LOT to freak me out.  I accept all kinds and am quick to defend those who usually don't have a defendant.  Because I have been there.  We good?  So knock that shit talk off right now.  Read my other posts about being a homeless alcoholic and then call me snotty. 

I just feel like I would rather pay to go to a haunted house this time of year than to go get the everloving shits scared outta me by some WalMartians.  For serious.

For the Love of French Braids and Non-Bumpit Big Bang Theory



Now, let's all be clear.  I have no real life experience with this whole lifestyle, but I am OBSESSED with Sister Wives.  Much like I am OBSESSED with Cuttlefish.  Now I like to think that somewhere a sister wife is saying, "man I'm obsessed with train wreck alcoholic vegan women who don't have any babies yet"  and blogging about someone like me. 
I will watch, read, listen to, stare, follow, stalk sister wives.  Any documentary, any podcast, any book, article, tv show, movie.  You name it, I will do that shit.

I find it just sickly fascinating.  Which, I know, makes me seem a terrible person.  But it's really that I'm in awe of their "all in" attitude.

This:



Big Love. The best scenes were always the ones with the 3 wives. And that Nikki? IDOL.

 

and this:

I don't watch reality TV as a rule, but screw you if you think I won't watch this shit.
Sister Wives on TLC? that shit is cray.

but more so this:

is what I'm fascinated with. I understand that the modesty factor is big in the Mormon faith.  I get it.  But where does this big 80's french braid hair come in?  If anyone can fill me in, please do.

I'm fairly certain it's a terrible way for a young girl to grow up and I am not making any judgements on the lifestyle or those who choose to live it.  If anything, I want to thank you for believing so hard in french braids and making that big bang theory happen without the aid of bumpits.

The hair, the dresses, the awful shoes underneath those dresses?  the 84 kids that are all related to each other kind of, who grow up and marry each other and keep the reproduction going?  That is some hardcore stuff. 

I read this:

It did a great job of showing the experience from the HUSBAND's point of view.  I quite enjoyed it.

I am very very good friends with a girl who happens to be Mormon.  Now, she and I couldn't be more different in many ways and I tease her relentlessly because I am a bitch. I tease about her magic underpants and she lets me.  She gives it back to me in other ways but my point is, she is one of my favorite people even though we are so very different.  She is one of the kindest and gentlest and most loving and non-judgemental people I've ever known. 

Let me be clear, IN NO WAY DO I THINK ALL MORMONS ARE SISTER WIVES.  So don't come after me y'all.

Because I don't know any Sister Wives in person (or do I?) I like to be really stereotypical about them. You Sister Wives out there (because I'm sure you are reading this blog), keep up the braiding and the shooting and the driving around in SUVs and the preparing for the end of days or whatever it is you do.  

I will be here with my popcorn watching/reading/following every second.  I thank you.

What the Hell is She Eating?

This was posted by my new dumbsainted friend recently and made me want to do a post about it.
http://dumbsainthood.wordpress.com/

I'm going to tell you what I'm eating, because I get this question ALL THE TIME.  I'm not here to preach or anything other than to tell you what I eat.  Feel free to NOT READ any of this if you like.  If you are interested, carry on.

I recently went full on vegan, and while I know many vegans who are the dearest, coolest people (I've made amazing friends through online chat rooms about grasseaters as well), there are plenty out there who love to be dicks.  And I also know the rep vegans have and it's a stereotype for a reason.  Holier than thou, skinny, PETA preaching dickholes.  NOT TRUE MY FRIENDS.  Do I come off that way?  You're damn right I don't.  And PETA sucks.  There are many great animal organizations, PETA is not one of them.  Here - definition of Vegan.  And y'all know how to google. 
There are all different reasons why people go vegan, some religious, some ethical, some dietary -- Mine is moral and ethical and dietary.  I have been vegetarian for 20 years, and my sole reason has always been I love animals so much I cannot eat them. HOWEVER, health had nothing to do with it. I ate like crap. And in the past couple years happiness and marriage has led me to gain weight.


This is the VERY first time I have not taken a pill to lose weight.  I have not stopped eating.  I'm actually feeling like I eat all the time.  But to have lost weight naturally is a first for me.  I've been a yo-yo girl my whole life.

This summer I joined a gym which I rarely use, but my dear friend HOUSE OF PAIN is there and teaches spinning on Mondays, which I love.  (See: Gym Post ) and I walk more and just try to move off my arse more.


I've lost 20 pounds in about 3 months and my clothes fit better and I feel better, blah blah blah, all the stuff that goes with losing weight, which is awesome.  With changing how I eat and exercising more, it's just working.  So, eliminating dairy and sugar seemed the logical way for me to do it.   (See ***disclaimer*** at the bottom of post)


Typical day right now, as I'm still working the vegan thing, and can't see why I would ever go back to just being vegetarian.  Honestly, cheese is what I miss the most, but I know that's also what has taken 20 pounds off, the not eating of the cheese. I wish I could tell you there is a good alternative, but there just isn't.  I've tried everything.  Ok, here we go!

Breakfast (still gag every time I put anything solid in my stomach before noon, but I'm doing it): 

• BLACK COFFEE (I've had coffee this way since college, any other way is a tragedy)
• Whole grain toast, one piece with buttery yumminess (that's not really butter)
• Some kind of fruit, apple or peach usually.
  

  

  
  The perfect combo for any good vegan trying to get knocked up.
  

  Lunch:

• Leftovers usually - today for example, I have tofu stirfry with veggies and brown rice I made last night.
• OR, the old standby of Hummus (ALL HAIL THE CHICKPEA!)  Check it.  I LOVE CHICKPEAS  Rarely a day goes by that I have not ingested the glorious Chickpea in some way, shape or form.  Hummus and carrots and whole wheat pita chips is a winner for lunch every time. 
• Spinach salad from the salad bar downstairs.  With chick peas, and balsalmic drizzle.  Then I throw some sesame seeds and dried cranberries and voila!  healthy yum yum.

Afternoon or evening Snack:

• Roasted Almonds and Dried Cranberries.  Boom.  Sounds boring, but it's delicious.  And tons of energy.  Better than candy.  Speaking of candy - I ate TONS of candy.  Ever since I got sober, I've had a raging sweet tooth.  I gave up the processed refined sugar a few months ago too.  Now if I do eat processed sugar, I feel like crap. 
• Baked Kale.  Buy Kale, wash and dry and break into pieces.  Arrange on baking sheet, drizzle with olive oil, sea salt and bake for 15 minutes at 350 degrees.  Like potato chips, but way better.  and I happen to love Kale. 
• Popcorn, on the stove in the Whirly pop.  Tiny bit of oil and salt does the trick.  If you want to get really ridiculous and healthy throw some Nutritional Yeast on there.  *Almost* like parmesan.  Almost my ass, but it is good. And so healthy for you.

Dinner:

• This is what I made last night and it will last for 3 more lunches.  Simple - in a wok, cook some dried sliced tofu and brown on all sides (undercooked tofu is nasty, this gives it some crunch) take out the tofu and set aside.  IN the wok again, oil and garlic, throw in whatever cut up veggies you have, toss around for just a few mins and throw some soy sauce, teriaki sauce and/or ginger powder and salt and pepper.  done.  Mix in cooked brown rice.  OR I use whole wheat soba noodles sometimes too.

There are so many vegan sites and cookbooks I love, The Kind Life by Alicia Silverstone (yes, Cher) changed my whole outlook.  I can be a Superhero and SO CAN YOU!

And I love this site, forever using stuff from her Fat Free Vegan

Those two are great go to sites, and Cher Horowitz (I mean Alicia Silverstone) really has a whole philosophy in her actual book that I love.

There are so many things to eat, I never feel deprived.  If I really wanted something badly enough, I would eat it.  But I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.

I go to Trader Joes (LOVE TJ's and the cutie pie hipsters who work there) and Whole Foods and buy whatever fresh vegetables look good. The I simply cook them. It's been a process for me of trying new things, new flavors, new cooking methods. I eat a shit-ton of vegetables, no getting around it.


Whole Foods can suck a bag of dicks. They are super expensive and kinda dicks. BUT they have the best stuff, especially for vegans. So I make nice with them. I buy what I can only get there, there.  Then I get the rest elsewhere.  There are Fruit/Produce stores on every corner in Chicago. Some are sketchy. Some have really good produce. Use your best judgement.

Another key is adjusting to making and bringing your own food everywhere.  Sure, I still eat out and at other's houses, but it's usually me cooking at home and controlling what is going into my body. 

I don't have kids and Dumpster Husband eats nothing that I make.  In fact, he finds it mostly revolting.  As I think what he eats is mostly revolting.  Which is fine.  We do our own thing when it comes to food and we do it peaceably.  But I know once I have kids, the whole dynamic will change.  People LOVE to tell me that I will want meat when I'm pregnant.  Uh huh.  Totally.  I never say never, but can't imagine.

***Here is my Disclaimer: I am in no way an expert on veganism, weight loss or anything at all. SO please be careful with your diet and just be smart. My rule of thumb lately has been, if it's REAL FOOD, meaning not processesed to shit, you can eat it.***

***Disclaimer Number 2*** I am by no means perfect and NEVER CLAIM TO BE.  I still smoke occasionally ( I know) and that is not vegan.  And I still eat a bit of cheese and sugar.  SO SUE ME.  I'm admitting all this to be brutally honest and to not get yelled at by people wanting to call me hypocrite.  There are a ton of people who want to believe me.

My point here is we are all just trying to do the best we can right?  Progress not Perfection.  Let's not be so hard on each other or ourselves. 

Gratitude for 10 Years Sober

10 Years Sober today.  This is going to be a little obnoxious and sound like a fucking award speech or something, but bear with me, ok?  This is a big fucking deal and I'm going to share about it.




This is my LIFE IS SO FUCKING GOOD face. Mascara running. You jerks are writing such nice stuff it's making me cry!


I realize this isn't something people usually shout from the rooftops, but I've never been more proud of anything than getting and staying sober.  I know that talking about this helps other people, and ultimately, that is the greatest high I get these days.  It's how I give back for what was given to me, and continues to be given to me.

Short and sweet, I am so grateful.  At the basest level, I'm grateful to be alive and healthy.  There were many times I know I could have cashed it in or did stupid things that could have gotten me cashed in, and I'm so glad those things didn't happen.

On another level, I am so very grateful for the people along the way who have picked me up, continued to deal with my bullshit, and just loved me through all of it.  For people who said, "we won't love you to death", and let me go until I cleaned up my act, I am super grateful. 

Not a believer in any kind of religion, or any one god type figure, I do believe in something. Some karmic universal power. What I believe is you get back what you put out into the world. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. That helps keep me sober. I'm not asking for your approval. I'm telling you what works for me.


I am so grateful for AA and the 12 steps.  It is my church.  It gives me strength and helps me to help others.  The people in those rooms are some of the best people I've ever known.  I've said it before and I will say it again, if we didn't laugh our asses off in there, why would be go?  I mean, sure, we cry and talk about serious stuff, but perhaps the most important thing to me is that we all laugh so hard with each other.  I've met people who have helped me get and stay sober, and then others ask me for help and I help.   That is how this whole thing works.

Big gratitude for people who in no way have a drinking problem, my friends and family who listen to my shit and we all laugh while they have a drink, I encourage it!  Seriously, have one, or twelve,  for me. I am laughing too.  It's all good.  My husband is a "normie".  But damn is he in love with me.  And respectful of all of this.  He's celebrating today as much as I am, as we both know we wouldn't have this great life together if I weren't sober.  Dumpster Baby or not, we have a great life together. 

We are all tiny grains of sand, it's when we all join together that we cover huge amounts of space.  You all are my grains of sand.  I cannot do this alone. 

Cheesy?  You betcha.  Deadly serious.  As all fucking get out.  I live to laugh.  And I get to live because I am sober. 

Now, the most valuable fake gold I will own today.......

Things I Love Thursday - Part 12



Hello!  I've missed you so very much Dumpster Divers! 

If you don't follow my every move on the Twitter or the Facebook, You don't know I've just returned from a 7 day trip to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah. 

Or as I like to call it, the happiest place on Earth.

This Things I Love Thursday will be short and sweet as I've got so much work, work to catch up on. 

I will get more written about our Sanctuary Visit shortly, ok?

Here it is.

The Thing I Love Thursday is:




This is Charmer. Doesn't he look like he has face paint on? He is a Charmer too.

FURRY LOVE.





Miss Jagger on my bed for our sleepover. Pitties are so mean!



Where would we be without furry love?  I have a hard time relating to people.  I never have a hard time relating to furries.  I don't believe in human unconditional love.  I do believe in furry unconditional love.  There are always conditions on human love.  It's true. People fail us. Over and over.  I fail people.  Over and over.  It is human to fail.  It is human to be hurt and unforgiving and wary after people have hurt us.  Furries don't see it that way, they will give us humans the benefit of the doubt over and over and over.  Even after their humans have done unconscionable things to them.  Over and over and over they will come back with only love to give and hope the best from their human.

Furries don't fail us.  And I do my damnedest to not fail them.  A big percentage of every day and every action I take and every word I speak and every word I listen to and read is about or beneficial to animals. My life is exponentially better due to the furries I have met and been inspired by. 

The time I spend at Best Friends with the cast offs and the rejects and the animals people have let or just can't deal with, is the most memorable and spirit enhancing time I ever spend. 

Don't get me wrong, I am a big fan of people too.  Sometimes.  I root for the underdog.  I am the underdog.  I relate to the underdog.



Miss Dixie has lived at Best Friends all of her 11 years.

 

Furries are the best people I know.   And for that, I am eternally grateful.