Oh Fall…

Now that I’m a year older in people years, but in my imaginary brain years I’m at least 10 years younger and wear a princess tiara, whoops… too many ibuprofen, I feel it is necessary that I become more adult like and start pulling out teeth more often.  So, on my actual birthday, I scheduled an appointment with a dentist to have a tooth root dug out.  I don’t know what I was thinking… in my head I was sure it would be a 10-minute event and then I’d be home eating a steak and par-taying to my geezer heart’s content.  Negative on the steak… I haven’t gone that far in my once-a-week-meat-eating adventures.  Keep the cowbells in the pasture, please!  The truth of the matter, the day before when I was dutifully brushing my teeth, the dead tooth that I knew I was supposed to have had pulled out for a couple of months before that just broke off.  Like literally broke all the way off down to the base, leaving three stems of roots stuck up in my gum.  Quality.  So, due to the fact that I had a horrid taste in my mouth from the rotting tooth and also the fact that we were heading into a weekend (apparently most dentist offices do not work on Friday… or Saturday or Sunday), I only had one choice for a day to get it pulled out… Thursday, my birthday.  But that didn’t matter because it would only be a 10-minute affair and unicorns and gumdrops would fall from the ceiling as I galloped out into the world at the completion.

Ninety minutes later, after enduring several drillings into my gum bones and digging with some doo hickey with a sharp tip, and after almost biting off the dentist’s fingers 12 times, I was crawling out of the dentist on hands and knees bleeding out the corners of my mouth.  See what a quality picture I paint for appetizing lunch hour purposes?  Who wants tomater soup for dinner!?  Blast you gum drop molar forest!  Blast you!  Also, Berger gene tooth issues… BLAST YOU!!  Meanwhile I’m pretty sure I’ve developed dry socket, having experienced the pleasantness of the dry socket when I got my wisdom teeth removed, I know the symptoms… which means packing the dried out socket with a nasty-tasting clove mixture and many months of severe pain are in my future.  BUT… on the bright side… if for Christmas I want hot Wassail… all I’d have to do is pour hot water into my mouth and swish it around with the clove mixture pack.  Voila!  Insta-nastiness!

But, back to the topic… Fall… Fall is my favorite!  It should just stay fall until March and then go directly to Spring… think about it Mother Nature… that’s all I ask!

Totes my deer friends…

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Lard-abration…

I’ve decided that no matter how hard I try, I will forever have stuck in my head the notion that food is linked with celebrations and fun.  I mean, it’s a national passtime for our whole country really.  What’s the most important thing about a get together/party?  The food.  What do we have to serve to get people to come to a wedding and bring a gift that doesn’t contain a lump of coal?  Uh… cactus?  Negatory… food.  Everything and their mother revolves around what we’re going to eat.  I guess that makes sense on a lot of levels.  I mean, we have to eat to live right?  We eat several times a day… as my grandma used to say at breakfast… What are we eating for dinner dear?  

But, we’ve even taken that to a new level.  Somehow I get into my tightly wound noggin that some occasions should be free for alls.  Throw out every single thing you’ve ever learned about moderation in all things and eat the entire cruise ship whilst on vacation.  I think that was the Titanic’s problem… some person ate a chunk out of the floor boards when they ran out of waffles at the buffet.  It’s like a right for me to order the most unhealthy thing on the menu because I’m on a birthday weekend getaway extravaganza of lard sauce.  Sure it’s okay to indulge here and there.  I think it’s really unhealthy if we don’t do that.  There needs to be a healthy relationship between a person and their food, and I don’t think constantly restricting certain food items is going to do the job long term.

Miss Vague-y Titanic Floor Boards is on her Vaguey rants again.  What does this all mean?  It means I’m sorting out in my brain the best way to deal with such problems in the future.  This past weekend I went to Midway, Utah for my annual birthday trip (apparently I’m celebrating all month since it’s not my birthday yet).  Usually during my annual birthday trip I give myself permission to not count a single calorie and just enjoy myself.  I think that’s reasonable… but then I went and decided I was joining the Lard Sauce Convention and took it to another Lard-abration Level purposely ordering the lardiest item on the menu because I dagnabbed deserved it instead of being reasonable and choosing one of the healthier options.  Oh learning curves… you rarely work with food.

I think it’s safe to say I blame Ronald McDonald for all of these problems.  Him and his flouncy unnaturally red hair and floppy shoes.  Big Mac my rear patookus!

Uhhhh… where do I buy the carb seed and why did I not know these existed?  Also, I’m pretty sure when I start planting carb seeds my black thumb will automatically be turning green!  CARBS!

Totally my spirit animal.  CARBS!!

In case you were wondering… this family exists.  Giganturan and Teeny.

This is what happens to Plumpy the Penguin after a long night of drinking…

At least he thought to take his hat off first.

T

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Headless Peoples On Main Street…

I consider myself a very jumpy person.  I jump at the sound of someone coming into the same room I’m in and have been known to holler when the water heater turns on.  I think it all stems back to the fact that I’m a wimp and when I was a kid my dad would often wake us up for school in the mornings by throwing open the bedroom door and yelling HEY!! really loudly.  That gets the heart a racing, I tell you what!  My family thinks it’s hilarity to the highest degree to scare the bagoobers out of me… I can’t help that my head has bobblehead qualities.  It’s like family entertainment night to sneak behind me and slap me upside the head just so they can hear me scream when I jump and watch my head bobble.  Forget the movie!  Obviously, I don’t get the fascination, but to each their own.

That said, obviously deciding to go to a downtown ghost tour walk was probably an embarrassment waiting to happen!  I did it anyway… drug my friend, Karrie along to wander around Main Street in the dark.  There were a few jumpy moments when we watched the play, The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe.  There were a few jumpy moments as we traipsed down Main Street and entered old buildings to hear ghost stories, but then there was the time we crossed Main Street on foot, a group of us following our guides to the next ghost story location, Karrie and I bringing up the rear, when all of a sudden this thing galloped out from behind some trees and Whitney nearly collapsed from fright!

Picture courtesy of Logan Downtown Facebook page.

Y’all… the horse was right up in my face like literally inches away… I could feel the breath coming out the horse’s nostrils.  Whenever I’d try to go around it, the headless dude either couldn’t see where he was going on account of the fact that he didn’t have a head or he was trying to scare the bagoobers out of me and kept weaving whichever way I’d weave to get past him.  That poor horse anyway… some 300+-pound chic kept screaming in its nostril holes for a good 10 minutes.  And we were the last in the group so it’s not like he had anyone else to go after when they all ran for their lives and I was stuck doing the 2-step with a headless horse dude!  Do you see the horse has red eyes… do you SEE!?!?!?  Oh my crimeny.  If I ever need my heart defibrillated, I’ll just run into this thing again in the dark.  My friend, Karrie was no help at all on account of the fact that she was trying to get a picture of it, but was laughing so hard she couldn’t hold the camera still enough to get a good one in the dark.  It’s a good thing I’m potty trained!  When I FINALLY got around the horse dude… I think he finally took pity on me and continued on down the lane… this zombie looking dude with a pale white bloody face jumped out at me and began following us cackling and spouting nonsense about wanting to eat us.  I mentioned to Karrie that he was stalking her, to which he chimed in, I’m stalking you too!   Obviously I’d be the first on the menu!   I’d recommend therapy, pale face.

After the 2-step dance practice, we headed to the movie theater to see Meet the Mormons.  Three thumbs up to a feel good, funny, and positive movie that beautifully illustrates that Mormons are not aliens, but regular everyday people!  Go see it!

In other news… it’s officially fall when we pick out pumpkins for the front stoop.  I wanted to buy this one… unphotogenetically (where the crimeny puffs am I looking?  It’s like there’s a horseman galloping through the sky fields)… because it was the easiest one to carry.

Instead, we picked a variety of heavier ones… my favorite is the white and orange one…

Happy October friends… I hope y’all can get out and enjoy the fall colors!

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Vege-sayonara-ism and Salmon…

Remember how for like 8+ years I was a certified lunatic vegetarian?  Remember how I didn’t eat meat ever and I modified recipes that included chicken broth and I invented meatless recipes for 8 years?  Remember that one time I fell on my face and got two black eyes while walking on a sidewalk?  Remember!?  A few months ago, I determined that I needed to buck up and be a woman… enter the world of the meat eaters… or at least attempt to.  It’s more of an experiment phase at the moment because I still eat 95% vegetarian during the week, but on the weekends, I’ve been forcing (yes that’s the word I would use) myself to eat at least one meat item.  I started out with chicken… which I’m still not a fan of… especially when I get a particular piece of chicken that has a fishy flavor to it… I can’t explain it… but it turned me off of it back when I was a semi-normal regular person.

This weekend I tried my first bite of roast beef.  Definitely not a fan of that yet… but I’ll keep attempting.  Pork and Turkey have not been attempted… but maybe one weekend soon I’ll get up the excitement to down a piece of pig flab.  Fish… fish will be a ways out.  Those little smelly slimy fellers I never loved.  Worm gut tar-tar anyone!?  So, to sum it up… still 95% vege-psycho-ism with an added 5% meat attemptation.

In other news, to update my “Fresh Start” goals.  I am now regularly exercising at least 3 times a week for cardio and 2 times a week for weight lifting… 3 weeks strong.  I find I have to push myself sometimes to fit it into my day, but I’m always glad after I do it.  The week after I started that I started regularly logging my food and trying to stay within a set calorie limit.  It’s helpful for me when I get home from the grocery store on Saturday afternoon to put any foods that are trigger foods into single-serving bags and then hide them out of sight so that I only eat the serving size.  I’ve also downed my sugar intake drastically.  My next goal is to stay off the scale for at least 2 weeks at a time and eventually a month.  It does no good for me to obsess over the numbers on that thing because weight can fluctuate day to day with water retention and hormoney hormones and the real measure of health is how one feels… weight loss is just a side effect.  If you see me driving around town with a scale strapped to the top of my Beulah, you’ll know I’m trying to keep it out of the house!

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In other other news… this weekend was General Conference weekend (my favorite!), but also Whitney gets to work weekend and carry the pager, so it was like a unicorn carrying a single-edged sword.  I still tempted fates of the pager ringing and went with the family to check out the salmon run… aka salmons swimming upstream to lay eggs and then die in their noble effort.  Such a tragic story.  Salmon… I’d just like to tell you that I have never eaten any of your brothers or sisters.  You are welcome.

My camera is not good enough to get fabulous shots of the little critters, but if you look closely, those red oblong things are totes the salmons!

We stood here waiting for one of the salmon to jump up the waterfall, but it never happened.  They were all pretty worn out and just trying to rest

Corbin thought it was pretty cool… even if he couldn’t throw any rocks at them.

Madre and Makayla wanted feeeessshhhh for dinner!  :P

A short video for a better ability to fall to sleep tonight.  Zzzzzzzzzz…

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Moderation In All Things… Twinkie…

If anyone needs me I’ve been accepted into the Sea World School of Seal Barking Exhibits.  I think I have a pretty good chance at becoming A+ at their language on account of the fact that I’m on week three of bronchitis/head congestion and have mastered said seal barking to the next level!  Pretty proud day, I must say!  Meanwhile, if anyone knows of anyone who would be able to slice a hole into my head somewhere, tip me upside down, and drain out all the goobers, I’d be there with Tinkerbells on.  One go-round of antibiotics hasn’t touched it and I feel like everyone would thank you for the service of peace and quiet… not just me.

In other news… I had a strange conversation in my Literature class last week.  I usually arrive a bit early and while I was sitting there with another student, also overweight, we began talking about “die”ts.  I didn’t bring it up… I don’t bring that subject up unless someone else does because A.) it can be construed as rude (are you saying I need to go on a diet!?!?) and 2.) It’s none of my dang business.  Also, I hate the word, “die”t as has been established approximately 12,000 times in the last 4 years.  Anyway, we got talking about how she was researching different diets to find which would be the best for her to start.  She asked which one I liked the best, to which I answered… NONE OF THE ABOVE!  Okay, okay… if you have to twist my arm I’d say Weight Watchers, only because it believes what I believe… moderation in all things.  But, WW brings with it bad memories of my 7-year-old self sitting in WW meetings with 3000 adults, so I won’t be using that method any time soon unless my fellow seal barkers take me there against my will.

I’m pretty stubborn on the moderation in all things method.  Pretty stubborn because I know it works… I’ve seen the most results of any of the bajillions of diets I’ve ever been on… and most importantly it’s common sense for lifelong success.  Here’s where some folks get confused (and I’ve been confused on many occasion including the last year or so), just because it’s moderation in all things does not mean that one should be able to eat 5 boxes of Twinkies and a keg of root beer everyday as long as one stays within their set amount of calories.  That ain’t moderation fellow seal barkers named Whitney!  It just means that life will happen and food is a part of life no matter how many darts we throw at it… so I can have a Twinkie here and there… and I can eat above my allotted calories here and there… and no food is off the table… no matter it’s fat or calorie content.  90% angel begets 10% devil… take that to the bank.

I do believe that what works for one person does not work for another person, and I respect that… everyone has to find out what works for them.  Moderation in all things is my gig.  And I’ll be stubborn about that until the seals quit barking.  Granted… if I wanted to become Miss Buff Body Builder Barker, I’d have to conform my eating to one of a body builders.  Since I want to be plain ole healthier Whitney with extra skin jiggles and cankles, I’ll go on eating in moderation.  So, girl from my Lit class… if you’re reading this… NONE OF THE ABOVE!

Side note:  I realize I talk about Twinkies like an excessive amount.  It’s like I’m in love with them or something.  I’d just like to clear up the confusion.  I actually do not like Twinkies, but their name is so cute and so I’ve decided to use them as a code word for food that is less nutritious and more indulgent.  Get my drift, Merle!?  Using Twinkies… one sentence at a time!

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Uncomfortableness… the New Beige…

This weekend while I was hacking up all 5 lungs, wheezing like a wheezer song, and trying to breathe out of a quarter of a nostril (stupid re-infected cruditis), I determined I’d watch an episode of Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition to help boost my fresh start desires… aka try to keep myself from holding up a Twinkie factory.  Plus, I like that Chris Powell dude… he’s a smart dude and he isn’t too horrible to look at either.

On this particular episode, there was a lady from Las Vegas.  She was pretty gung ho about wanting Chris’s help in the beginning.  So much so, that in order to be taken on as a client, she walked several miles and up 5 bajillion stairs just to get the chance.  For those not familiar with the show, it’s set up that they follow these people for 1 year as they transform their lives.  It’s set up in 3-month increments where at the end of each increment, they weigh themselves to see if they’ve hit the goal they’ve been given.  The first 3 months, they live in Colorado at a hospital, where they learn about nutrition and exercise, so it’s a pretty controlled environment.  At the end of those 3 months, they are sent home to take the journey in the real world.

The first 3 months, you could tell she wasn’t confident, but she made her goal.  The 2nd 3 months at home, she was less confident, but I believe she still made her goal.  Then the 3rd interval hit… months 7 through 9.  The polish had fallen off the newness of it all and she started skipping exercise sessions, not eating what she should be eating, and then lying about it all.  Chris and his wife, Heidi, tried to change the out-of-control freight train of inevitable weight gain by inviting her back to Colorado to train with them once again.  She reluctantly (and more angrily than anything) packed her bags and came back, only to half-heartedly work her way through exercise sessions with a bitter anger brewing beneath the surface.

Chris confronted her… and what he said to her hit home like a ton of bricks at a Britney Spears concert… You’re afraid of being uncomfortable!  Afraid of the way your legs hurt and it’s hard to breathe when you go all in at an exercise session.  Afraid to feel the feelings of sadness and anger instead of stuffing them down with a Ding Dong (do they make those any more?).  Afraid of being uncomfortable!  In a nut shell… that’s what this life all comes down to.  To advance at anything in our lives, we’re going to HAVE to feel freaking uncomfortable at some points.  It’s the newness of it all that makes it uncomfortable.  The trick is to keep doing the uncomfortable thing until it becomes comfortable to us… and that’s when it’s time to take it to the next level… when it becomes comfortable.

How many times have I not exercised because I didn’t want to get sweaty and/or hated huffing and puffing and burning legs?  How many times have I stuffed my face to feel better about something that has given me anxiety or made me mad?  How many times have I been afraid to be uncomfortable?  Too many to count.

Thank you, Chris Powell for making me realize that it’s part of life… that uncomfortableness… and unless I want to sign up to become a dust bunny in the basement, I best learn to celebrate that uncomfortable feelings bring about stronger men and women.  The Twinkie factory can wait.

Oh, and by the way… the Las Vegas lady… she quit the journey… she was afraid of the uncomfortable and let it get in her way of accomplishing what she wanted so much in the beginning.

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Fresh Starts…

I’ve been thinking today, aka procrastinating my homework, about how thankful I am that we live in a world where there are fresh starts.  As much as I mess up and fall off the neverending railroad track toward success, there’s always that little bit of hope glimmering in the distance… and it’s not lost forever just because I lose my way or fall down… it’s still mine if I want it bad enough.  I was thinking this way in regard to what this blog started out as… my journey to lose 5 people and a horse whilst finding myself along the way.  I had a pretty dang good method going for a few years and I understood what it took and I was focused on where I wanted to go and just how to get there, but then life happened… and things cropped up that took the place of the other things… and I lost my confidence and I got discouraged… and I found myself back at that place that I didn’t know how to get myself out of… back to that person of long ago… the one who just sat by and let things happen to her.  She didn’t control the steam engine and she didn’t know how to turn the key anymore.  It was stuck in the off position… or the idle position because there were times where I’d attempt to right myself.

The truth is… I miss that person… that go getter… the one who took the lard sauce by the horns and steered it in the right direction.  I MISS HER.  It’s overwhelming to me sometimes to think that I had it down… and then I somehow lost it… and forgot how to get it back.  If I could be any more vague in my wording of this post, I’d be crowned Miss Vague-y of the Decade… the lesser known sister of Miss America!

So, while I was thinking of all this stuff today, I got out a pen and a paper and I wrote down Whitney’s Rules For Re-Kicking the Patookus Into Gear… and then I got all gung ho and excited and was raring to go.  Cut to 3 hours later and I felt a sense of overwhelmed horror… I can’t do all of those things perfectly all at the same time… I might as well not do anything.  Been there.  Heard that before.  It’s not realistic to expect myself to hop onto the train tomorrow morning and become conductor, usher, candlestick maker, and baker all on the same day.  It doesn’t work like that.  I could post my list of 55 things I swear to all high heaven I’m going to do, but then I need to tackle them one at a time… adding a new item every week or two or three… because that’s more realistic if I want to be nice to myself along the way and gain that self-esteem that is supposed to be the end all be all of everything stress relief… because I checked… Wonder Bread doesn’t sell the self-esteem starter kits next to the Twinkie aisle anymore.

I’m going to write out my list here… a list of the things I need to get back to doing on a regular basis, but contrary to today’s earlier plans, I’m not going to start them all tomorrow.  I’m going to pick off one at a time like I did back when I owned it.  If anyone sees my train puttering down the track, wave but don’t call the mechanic… she’s just slowly working on loving herself again!

1 – Exercise:  Cardio: At LEAST 30 minutes 3 times a week.  Weightlifting:  Two times a week.
2 – Food logging:  MyFitnessPal.
3 – NO SCALE!!  First weigh-in tomorrow morning, but then focus on the way I feel rather the number on the scale.  Weigh-ins will only happen once a month to make sure I’m moving in the right direction.
4 – Cut down on sweets/sugar.
5 – Make a list of alternative things to do when I want to emotionally eat.  (i.e. use stress relieving techniques, chew gum, brush teeth, etc.)
6 – Make a menu and grocery list once a week.  If it’s not on the list, it doesn’t go in the cart!
7 – Make a list of acceptable healthy snack alternatives rather than go-to easy crap!
8 – Incorporate new veggies/foods into my regular stuff.
9 – Read positive quotes/stories/scripture at least once a day.

My plan is to use jars and pebbles to keep track of my successes.  For the days I exercise/log food properly, a pebble goes into the jar… when I fill up a jar with a certain amount of pebbles, I get a non-food reward, predtermined.

Ready.  Set.  Go…  You got this!

T

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