Pages

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

It's Personal

My sister worships at the altar of Jillian Michaels. She faithfully watches The Biggest Loser and is currently into the newest series, Losing It With Jillian. Me? Not so much.

Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be trained by Jillian, although I'm pretty sure I'd try to sit on her as a method of retaliation at some point during our sessions, but I can't get into weight loss as entertainment, and I'm pretty into Reality TV. You name it, and unless there is a housewife or an orange Guido on it, I've probably seen it. But watching something that is a real battle for me? Not so much.

The weigh in alone fulfills one of my biggest nightmares, being practically naked on national television getting on a scale. Seriously, why would I want to see that played out on a weekly basis?

I've seen most of the regular cast on various talk shows - Jillian, Bob, Alison - and they all seem likable. Perhaps the four of us could wolf down some cheese fries and cocktails. OK, perhaps not. The point I'm getting at is that my aversion to the show has nothing to do with the regulars.

Weight loss is personal and fraught with emotion for me, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. I'm not plus size because I'm lazy or because I eat bad food, but because of other things (although I am at times lazy and eat bad food). I'm an emotional eater - piss me off and I won't yell at you, push or shove you. I'll go home and take out my frustration on pizza, potato chips or mac & cheese. When I'm sick, all I want is comfort food. Nothing says "feel better" like pastina with egg and plenty of salt. When I'm sad I want to cry into my beer - sometimes literally. Getting on my sneakers and hopping on the treadmill or going out for run is not my first thought.

So now that I'm back on the wagon, I need to rework my coping mechanisms. This isn't my first time at the rodeo, I've done this before - four years ago I spent so much time out running my feet were two massive blisters. A day without muscle aches was a rarity. I was named "The Biggest Loser" at my gym. I also wound up being treated for an eating disorder.

Clearly I need to find a middle ground. I need to figure out expressing my emotions and not eating them, stuffing them down or running away from them. While doing that on TV may help another person, I don't think it would help me.

So since I'll never benefit from Bob or Jillian's expertise, or get encouragement and feedback from Alison, I'll need to find my own way on my terms.

I don't have the answers, but I do have a plan and TV isn't part of it.

Unless I can get on Survivor...pretty sure that witchetty grubs and rats would be a sweet weight loss plan.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Here We Go Again

I'm sure I'm on some kind of wall of infamy at WW HQ for the number of times started.

Mark yesterday as attempt 126.

I've been on Weight Watchers on and off for over 19 years now. I've been through exchanges, Fat & Fiber, 123 Success, you name it, if it was introduced since 1991, I've worked the program.

I've had good leaders and bad ones. Good buddies and lack luster ones. Through the years I've found that the best motivator is myself and my own demons, sometimes a little too motivating.

Yesterday was D-Day. I've had that date marked on my calendar for a few months now. Blame the mailer I got from WW offering $10 a week for Lifetime Members as long as they rejoined by June 28. Of course I had to push it to the very end.

So, as usual, I waddled in yesterday, hopped on the scale and gave them my money. I think I say it every time I do this, but the scale was at its highest point EVER. I had my last blow out yesterday as well. (I look at joining day as a free day, program starts the following day). Bacon & cheddar omelet with hash browns for breakfast, chicken sandwich with bacon and cheese with a side of fries for lunch and a spinach calzone for dinner washed down with plenty of full calorie beer.

Today, walking the line. Of course it's only noon, but I'm in for the long haul. I've joined a gym I've studiously avoided. I'm taking Alli as a kick start (the side effects are killer if you go off program).

I'm also going to try something new - having a life. In the past I've been a monk when I've changed my eating habits (read: dieted). I didn't deal with the pit falls of going out and seeing friends. I was an exercising machine. I also abused my body in the process. That can't happen this time.

So here I go again, name back in the log books at Weight Watchers, hunting for my ratty exercise clothes, scheduling workouts back into my day.

Sigh.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

About Last Night

BATS is finis.

I drove, I paid and I got a peck on the cheek like you'd give your Aunt Mildred. I was home by 8:15.

Thank God for my friends - they had to spend most of the night trying to drag me out of my rejection depression. But booze, dancing and seeing idiot boys act like, well...idiots was fun.

Onward and hopfully upward. I just wish I hadn't spent a month acting like an idiot for someone who clearly doesn't deserve me.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

5 Second Update

OK kids, I'm really trying hard to keep up with this blog, so here's quick update so I keep the writing going.

BATS and I are going out tomorrow night. Not sure if it's a date (I think it is) or just two friends getting together. Let's hope for the former, shall we? I have to keep telling myself he's so shy he makes me look like a screaming party animal, and his social skills are fairly limited. Why do I find myself attracted to him? He's nice, funny, loyal, knows his beer, can cook (!), is good to his mama and despite being a Republican (with a capital C for Conservative), opposites attract I guess. He also gets my McKenzie Brothers references - I mean seriously, the man's seen Wicked Brew.

However, I'm not giving up on the on-line dating, although match.com is losing some of its luster. I've met a guy on e-Harmony who seems pretty cool. We like a lot of the same things (he shared his music cache with me last night - I was impressed with the overlap). Despite the fact he lives about an hour away from me, I think this one could have legs. More to come.

Met up with old colleagues tonight from BearingPoint (the one employer I'll actually name on Pinot since they've gone out of business). Surprised myself by having a good time - got to catch up with folks I hadn't seen in almost three years, and am looking forward to the next get together!

On a more sober note, East Norriton Township Police Chief John McGowan is being laid to rest tomorrow. He was a good friend of my father's and it is always unsettling to see one's father so shaken up as my dad was when he learned of Chief McGowan's death. He had survived two bouts with cancer to lose his life in a motorcycle accident, leaving behind a wife, two sons and two grandchildren in addition to his parents. He was 58. May he rest in peace.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

What's Cookin'?

In honor of the fact that today was the first time in a long time I've actually made a meal from scratch, I thought I'd share the recipe with you. It may sound gross, but it's quite delish'. It can be doctored up with onion, garlic and/or oregano. I prefer to keep it simple with just salt and pepper.

This is a family fave, passed down from my paternal grandmother who was not a great cook, and despite the original name, Italian Delight, she was not Italian, nor is there much in the recipe to suggest an origin in Italy.

So, without further adieu, I present what I have renamed Ghetto Casserole:

3/4 pound ground beef
1 1/2 cups uncooked elbow macaroni
1 can tomato soup
1/2 cup corn (canned or frozen - fresh may be good too, but I've never tried it)
8 oz Velveeta
Salt
Pepper

In a pan, cook ground beef, cooking it as you would for tacos. Salt and pepper to taste. Drain fat, set aside.

In a pot of boiling water, cook the elbow macaroni until tender. Drain and add the cooked meat, corn, tomato soup and Velveeta. Stir until mixed. Season as desired.

That's it - like I said, probably sounds gross, but it's quite tasty. The beauty of it is you can play with the quantities adding meat or macaroni if you prefer one to the other. It can be prepared in advance and reheated although I prefer it freshly made.

I believe the original recipe called for onion, and perhaps oregano (thus making it Italian), but it's long gone by now. I've looked on Campbell's and Kraft's websites and they don't have a record of it. For all I know, it originated in the mind of my grandmother.

Give it a try! I'll post another recipe next Tuesday.

What are you having for dinner?

Monday, June 21, 2010

I Lied

Alright, one more post about my love life. Actually, it's a post about a post.

Comments are welcome on the entry from Saturday. Am I too picky? Not discerning enough?

Any hints, tips or suggestions from those of you who have escaped from the trenches?

I'm thinking about speed dating if I can find one that has an event out here in the suburbs. I'd go into Philly for one of Hurry Dates's events but I think the amount of alcohol I'd need to get through the night would double the entry fee. It's a heck of a lot cheaper to cab it back from a local hotel/bar.

Feel free to email me privately!

Saturday, June 19, 2010

For the Last Time...

Even I am getting sick of reading about the tragic state of my personal life, so this is going to be the last blog about my foibles on match and eHarmony (for a little while at least - and by a little while that probably means a week or two).

I've found some interesting opinions among my friends. Some think I'm being too picky - whether it be age, location, hobbies or occupation. Then some think I'm insane for going down this road of on-line dating in the first place. Others offer no such opinion and accept this journey that I'm on. The minority think I'm perfectly within my rights to be picky (they tend to also be single).

Maybe I'm too picky, but I do have some criteria, and I don't care if it makes me hypocritical or a bitch, but I'm going to put them out there, not only for those of you who care, but for the universe. My ideal man:

1. Will want children - or at least hasn't closed the door to the idea of them
2. Will be under the age of 45.
3. Lives in the Commonwealth of PA
4. Is single (never married, divorced or widowed - but under no circumstances will be considered a bigamist if we were to take off and go to Vegas tomorrow to get married)
5. Has a job or has been employed within the past 2 years (bad economy exception). If he is currently unemployed due to circumstances beyond his control, he is actively looking for a job.
6. Does not live in his mama's basement. Yes, I know this is hypocritical considering my living situation, but I'm a girl and I'm allowed to apply different standards to boys.
7. Will not unload his tale of woe in the first email to me - or on the first date for that matter. I don't lay out my baggage in my profile or in introductory emails and I keep it to myself on the first date, I expect him to as well.
8. Has read a book in the past year that he wasn't forced to read because of work.
9. Finally, "gets" my sense of humor


Am I bitch? Maybe, but my friend J yelled at me the other night that I'm not confident enough, and I think that confidence needs to come along with standards.

While I'm at it with one last hurrah, I have another gripe. Apparently us full figured girls aren't on anyones hit parade. News flash boys, we all want a boy with The Situation's abs (just the abs in my case). Oh, and a boy with a full head of hair, or at least the ability to grow one. I'd like to be able to describe myself as a 5'6" blonde with a flat tummy, boobs the size of flotation devices and an IQ to rival Bill Gates. But, in the words of Mick Jaggar, you can't always get what you want. Seeing as we live in the real world, I'm honest, and I try to punch within my weight class. I'm realistic about the guys still single at this point in my life and who might be attracted to me.

I'd like to see the boys do the same.

True story: I ran across the profile of someone I know in real life on one of the sites I'm on. He weighs somewhere north of 350 lbs and describes himself as husky. OK...no problem - he's a nice guy and while not my type I'm sure there is a girl out there for him.

What bothered me was when I looked at how compatible we are (or how we "match") and when we got to body type, while he falls into what I'm looking for, this full figured beauty is not his type. He is only looking for girls who are: athletic and toned, slender, about average and a few extra pounds. He's not the only one - there are a lot of "full figured" guys who are not interested in full figured girls. I know men can drop a few pounds pretty quickly (one of God's many jokes) and many aren't crippled by body insecurities thanks to Vogue, Allure and Glamour, but c'mon, seriously? Let's level the playing field and make Men's Health mandatory reading for all men.

Boys, give us girls with a little junk in the trunk a chance. I'm cute, funny, smart and have a good job. I'm a loyal friend, a decent kisser (at least, I think so, I've never had any complaints) and my bad singing and insane dogs will provide hours of entertainment. Plus I can order a mean pizza.

Ok. I'm done my rant and leaping off of my soap box. I may have a few sleepless nights trying to come up with stuff to write about that isn't on-line dating related, but I'll do my best!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

By Popular Demand

So I had my "date" with Bachelor Number 2 on Monday night.

I think I prejudiced myself a bit by doing some detective work earlier in the day and finding him on Facebook, but hey, if you're going to tell me your name and where you work, I'm going to do some digging. Again, coming off of a L&O: SVU marathon - I'd like to know if I'm going out on a blind date with the new Drew Peterson.

While I didn't find any dead (or missing) spouses or girlfriends, I did find a lot of pictures of him with dead fish, the proud trophies of his fishing hobby. He also is a huge outdoorsman. When you think of the great outdoors, I'm pretty sure you don't think of me - unless it's an open air mall or bar, but hey, opposites attact, right?

I had another set of spies at the bar that night (the scene of the last crime)and knew some of the bartenders working. Turns out Bachelor Number 2 is a regular. This didn't work in his favor. It's not that I'm opposed to bar flies, but when you make a bad impression on the bar staff, that's not a good sign.

My spies were chatting up the bartenders who conveyed their dislike of Bachelor Number Two while he and I chatted (exact quote - she can do better). At the time I knew this wasn't going anywere, but being polite I stayed for a bit. We traded stories, living situations, etc.

I'm going to go off track for a minute and share with you what my friend Bill told me about his experience on match.com: Good luck, Beth! I meant to comment on your previous posts about Match, but I always read them on my phone and didn't feel like typing a long message. My wife and I met on match.com about five years ago. I think I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to other guys, but I'd be hesitant to recommend it to women.

When I was on there, I decided to check out the competition, and it made me feel like a rock star. It seemed liked 95% of the guys on there were a) married and looking for something extra on the side, b) just looking for one night stands, or c) total losers living in their mom's basement or something. At least that's what it seemed like five years ago.


So, I met (b) in Bachelor Number 1 and call me hypocritical (which trust me, my father did when I brought this up) Bachelor Number 2 falls into category (c). Layer in that the bartenders said he's generally a jerk and cheap (he got overly excited that the owner of the bar bought a round while we were there - the whole date cost him $3.50).

Am I discouraged? A tad. I've let myself wallow in the general failure of my two first dates, although I'm sure there will be more to come. But I'm putting myself out there and that's what's important to me right now.

On to the next adventure. No Bachelor Number 3 on desk just yet, but stay tuned.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Bachelor Number 1

As some of you know, I had my first match.com date Wednesday night. Since I talked about it so much in the build up, I feel I owe you the gory details.

It started off OK – we met at a local bar, I had two friends planted at the bar as my bodyguards/get away excuse. I apparently ran past him on my way in (it was raining) and we found each other inside. It was loud – the Philadelphia Flyers were playing what was to be the final game of the Stanley Cup and the bar was packed.

We ordered beers and appetizers and did the awkward first date interview. He was cute, but I wasn’t getting the spark, although I chalked it up to the fact that we were practically screaming at each other over the din. After a while, I suggested we go someplace for coffee so we could chat in a quieter place.

He suggested we go back to his place.

I should have stamped my little foot and told him that I’m not that kind of girl (really, I’m not – stop laughing). I told him no and that there was a diner up the road. He agreed and we talked for another hour or so. We agreed to see each other again, although no plans were set.

As we were leaving we leaned in for the awkward hug and what I thought would be a kiss on the cheek. As a rule, I don’t swap spit with someone I’ve only known for about four hours – unless he’s Justin Timberlake of course. Bachelor Number 1 apparently has no such policy in place.

Again, I should have pulled back and told him to back off, but it was late and I was questioning my instincts. I have been doing my monk impression for a while, so maybe I was in the wrong I thought.

That night, I sent the obligatory text – nice meeting you, had a good time, maybe we can meet up again. Again, I was thinking I was in the wrong for feeling awkward about the whole encounter.

He texted me the next morning asking if I wanted to go out that night. To see a movie. At his place. I pushed back and suggested we go to a theater to see a movie. He agreed. Ultimately plans fell through.

After talking to my council of girlfriends (and a guy friend) all agreed that the “hey let’s go back to my place” was way too forward for a first meeting, and the kiss was definitely out of line. My take away from this is that I need to trust my instincts more.

So Bachelor Number 2 is lined up for tomorrow night. I’m wary to say the least. I’m not giving up on the on-line dating just yet, but it’s getting tiresome and it hasn’t even been a month. I’ve been approaching this like it’s a full time job – spending as much time as possible on the sites, winking like I have Tourettes and going out on a limb and emailing guys I think are interesting. I may need to take a step back and look at it like a part time job, or even a hobby. There are only so many questionable guys and rejection a girl can take.

But I’m keeping positive, Bachelor Number 2 on deck, instincts properly tuned and getting back on the horse.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Everything I Need to Know, I Learned from Madonna

I was driving to the bookstore this morning and Like a Prayer came on my iPod. One line struck me, "Life is a mystery; Everyone must stand alone" and it occurred to me how prolific Her Madgesty is.

It's difficult to believe that the music of Madonna has been in my life since I was 9 years old. Even then I thought she was amazing - the lace gloves, the rosary as an accessory, the dance moves. My mother was horrified. Despite being Catholic and having a million pairs of rosary in the house, nobody actually said one, so it seemed natural to me that one would throw one around one's neck. My mother, another product of the Catholic school system, disagreed. Oh she let me rock a pair of hot pink lace fingerless gloves and the strip of lace in my hair, but that was it.

I did win the hair battle a few years later - I loved Madonna's pixie cut in the Papa Don't Preach video - the piecey low key look in the narrative part, not the overly styled bouffant in the choreographed dancing section of the video. Unfortunately living in the Philly suburbs in 1986, I only had access to mousse, so I wound up with the bouffant version that greatly vexed me. Oh, and forget the bleached blonde color - strictly brunette for this Madonna wanna be.

I defiantly boycotted Pepsi when they dropped Madonna in 1989 for her Like a Prayer video, I inappropriately grabbed my crotch a few months later while imitating the dance moves in the video for Express Yourself. I also inadvertently poked myself in the eye while attempting to Vogue.

The first time I wanted to pierce my nose was in 1994 when Madonna rocked one on her cuss-filled appearance on Letterman in support of Bedtime Stories, and I made my first Estee Lauder purchase when they featured the red lipstick and nail polish worn by Madonna when she appeared in the movie Evita.

I guess what Madonna really taught me was that as a woman, I didn't need to be a victim. That it was OK to stand up with the boys and tell it like it is. I think it's pretty awesome that she still "talks" to me 26 years later through her music. So, in honor of Madonna, I thought I would share some other things I've learned from the Material Girl, in no particular order:

- We are living in a material world, and I am a material girl ~ Material Girl
- I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me ~ Human Nature
- A man can tell a thousand lies, I've learned my lesson well ~ Live to Tell
- Don't go for second best baby ~ Express Yourself
- Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone - Like a Prayer
- Beauty's where you find it - Vogue
- Nothing really matters, love is all we need - Nothing Really Matters
- You met your match when you met me - Causing a Commotion
- Don't forget that your family is gold - Keep It Together
- The road to Hell is paved with good intentions - 4 Minutes

I hope Madonna continues to write music that inspires generations to come. Thank you for the music Madonna.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Amendment

Something has been bothering me since I pressed the Publish Post button last night.

I wrote about messing with BATS head just because I can. That's not nice, that's not me.

I've had my head messed with and it's not fun. I wrote it from an annoyed place and I wish I hadn't.

I'm resolving to be kinder and more judicious with my words. In every area.

Oh, and I resolve not to freak my mother out with my posts. I'm sure she'll appreciate that more than anything.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Tuesday Update

Here's a few things that have happened since the last episode of Beth in Real Life in no particular order...

I'm officially done my part time job a few days early. Not exactly proud of the way it ended, but retail can be messy.

I saw Boy Across The Street Saturday night. He called Saturday morning and invited me over for an impromptu dinner party he was throwing, and despite the short notice, I accepted. I brought wine, we all had dinner. After everyone left, BATS and I made out (sorry mom). He was tired. I went home. I almost yelled at him to man up and drink a Red Bull, but I didn't. I may see him again "romantically", I may not. I may also mess with his head just because I can. I'll see where the mood takes me. And yes, I only recently realized that Boy Across The Street spelled out
BATS. I think there may be something to that.

I have a blind "date" with a guy from Match.com tomorrow night. The 2 second scoop - he's 39, divorced, has an 11 year old daughter and works in recruiting. He's not unattractive based on the pictures he's posted, but then again, I only have one chin in the ones I have on my profile. It's hard to see where something will go just based on a few emails and text messages. More to follow.

There's another guy on Match who has expressed some interest. Not sure he's my type, but we're emailing. Pluses: he's a chef at a casino who is studying to be a paralegal in the criminal justice area. Minuses: he's 44, never been married with 2 kids. I'm thinking a Saturday morning coffee meet and greet is in order.

Work is busy, and also hot, smelly and loud (we've moved into a new building which is still being finished, I haven't suddenly started pig farming). Thankfully the RM for whom I've been pseudo-backfilling is back from maternity leave, although the 7:30 am con call every Tuesday hasn't disappeared from my calendar. I can't complain much as it's 6:30 am for her.

Family is also fun and games these days. I'll leave it at that, but I'll reiterate that I am NOT getting old, do you hear me God? I've tolerated this turning 35 business, but I'm done aging. I need to negotiate some sort of eternal 29 type deal, although I guess I'm about six years too late. So, I'll stay 35, keep my faculties and general looks the same. Just let my weight fluctuate because I don't want to be a size 20 (oh ok...22) forever. OK God? We'll renegotiate when I'm a size 6 (or 8 or 10).

So, that's the update --- ta, ta for now.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Free At Last!

....well almost.

After next Thursday, my adventures in retail will be coming to an end.

I'll miss the extra cash, and the discount, but it's gotten to a point where the aggravation isn't worth it. Oh, and the fact that some nights I spent more than I made had a little something to do with it (re: the night I bought a Coach watch for $70. Seriously, a Coach watch for $70 - not buying it would have been criminal).

I won't miss picking up other people's trash, or picking up garments that have been tossed on the floor. I also won't miss having to sit on the floor to do markdowns (while wearing black pants) or working up a sweat wrestling with the area rugs that get left on the floor.

Last night confirmed my decision as I was put on the cash register. Right next to the door. Which opened up frequently. It was 90+ degrees and humid last night. My upper lip was sweating. Sexy, right? I had to come home and wash my hair I was so sweaty by the time I was done, and I wasn't even doing something fun. Ain't no way I'm gonna be able to run a register in July when it's 98 and even more humid. I wasn't glistening or glowing. I was sweating like a pig.

So after next Thursday I will have my nights to myself and will be able to banish blue tops and black pants to the back of my wardrobe for a little bit.

Can I get a hallelujah?

It wasn't all bad. I work with some cool people that I hope to stay in touch with - even if they do make me feel really old. So even though I really didn't save a whole bunch (oh, who am I kidding, any) money, I did come out a little richer.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Where It's At

So I'm feeling a little discouraged, even though the logical part me knows it's way too soon.

Let me explain, I had taken myself out of the game for a while. I mean a really long while. Think Clinton administration.

Sad, no?

That's not to say I haven't had the random date, but random being the operative. I've been so wary of being hurt that I've insulated myself to the point ridiculousness, so now that I'm wading back in, I'm overly sensitive.

It's been slightly short of one week that I've been on Match, and much like my friend who expected to be pregnant after one month of trying, I'm impatient. I'm working on it, but patience is not a virtue I have in great supply.

I'm also still licking my wounds from Across The Street Boy. I'm embarrassed, I'm a little hurt (even though I only have myself to blame) and I'm wondering how I got it so wrong. There's a part of me that feels like all of the negative thoughts I have are being affirmed. In a word, my ego has been bruised.

Compounding this is the whole on-line dating process. I've been doing some reverse searches (meaning people whose criteria I fit, rather than people whose criteria I fit) and what I'm finding doesn't thrill me. Today I came across a 60+ year old who I think may be Jerry Garcia's twin. I've "winked" at a few guys and have emailed two - maybe I'm making the fatal mistake of being too honest when I call myself Full Figured (or Big & Beautiful - great options, eh?) and have had radio silence.

I know I'm being too hasty getting discouraged - I think it's a case of the Tuesday Mondays (i.e. the Tuesday after a long weekend, thus making it a de facto-Monday). As I said before, I have six whole months to get rejected. I need to pace myself and find a better attitude.

I just wish it didn't hurt so damn much.