The Melissa Etheridge Exercise Program

Friday night I went to the Melissa Etheridge concert and it was great. There was the small problem with the fact that The Orpheum and I disagree on what is considered a comfortable seat (Them: Oh, anyone who weighs less than 200 can comfortably sit in down in these seats. No one would weigh over 200 pounds. That's just craziness. Me: Oh, my God, I don't even think my thigh would fit in here!).

With a great deal of angling and holding my breath and saying "The heck with it! Pain doesn't matter! Really painful bruises on my thighs don't matter!" I was able to angle myself in such a manner that I could sit down but it was not comfortable. Hence the (mental) disagreement with The Orpheum (oh, but it's such a beautiful theatre. Glorious).

Beth said "Well, we'll be dancing a lot." I smiled and nodded. I don't dance. What I do is more of a rhythmic tapping that sort of moves up and down my legs. I will occasionally shuffle. Sometimes I get carried away and rapidly nod my head (may be sometimes construed as head banging). I don't raise my hands in the air because of problems I'm having with my left shoulder (although I wished that I had my weighted gloves with me because it would have been even better of a workout). I figured, once I got into the seat, there was no way you were getting me out of it. Uh-uh. No, sir. No how.

And then Melissa Etheridge walked out onto the stage. And she began to sing. And rock. And roll. And I stood up and started moving. I couldn't help it. I still didn't dance but there was a whole lot of rhythmic tapping going on.

After a while, my legs started to hurt and I sat down again. Still painful, still angled but having such a great time from the music I didn't care. I sat down for two songs. And then she started rocking again. I was back up and moving around again, singing my heart out.

Later on Melissa started playing The Weakness In Me, a slower song. I sat down again, expecting a battle of the bulge. Imagine my shock when I sat straight down in the chair. No angling required. Still a little painful because part of me was spilling over into the next chair (thank God we had an extra seat) but I was sitting down.

I've decided that, once I buy all of her albums (I'll start with Lucky), I'm going to play a CD every other day to start. You can't help but move when you listen to her. If I'm moving, that's a heck of a lot more exercise than I get in a normal day.

So here I am, still sore and bruised), still tired, but still rocking and buzzed from the energy. So buzzed that, after the concert, when we went to Perkins, I asked for water instead of Diet Coke. Believe me when I say that is not like me.

Hoping your day is rocking as well.

D

And nary a drop to drink

Keem and I went to Wal-Mart yesterday, after much whining on my part ("But Keem! I have to go to Wal-Mart." "Why?" "I need stuff."). We ended up spending over an hour there.

Keem tried to do the "I'm putting my foot down. We have one cart. And I'm pushing it." routine. But, in the end, I triumphed and was allowed to have my own cart.

For those of you who are thinking Keem is a mean person for telling me what to do, I would like to, in her defense, give you an idea of what shopping is like with me.

Imagine a child. Five years old. Has no concept of time. Likes to wander off and look at stuff. Pouts if she doesn't get her own way (but doesn't cry because she's not a baby). Will occasionally stomp her feet. Will vanish and not be able to tell you where she was when you finally find her. Or will misplace you and then say "I've been looking for you forever" but has never actually left the section she is in.

Now, make the child 37 (wait, am I 38 now? I have suddenly forgotten. 2004 take away 1967 is 37. Okay) and you have me. I am easily distracted, forget where things are and will fib creatively, if it means I can spend five more minutes in the toy (book/electronics/you name it) section.

Anyway, we spent a long time at Wal-Mart. We were leaving and I thought "Oh, I wish I would have bought a water. I'm thirsty." When I drank Mountain Dew, I was never actually thirsty. Apparently, that's not good. You're supposed to get thirsty. You're supposed to drink water, apparently half of your body weight in water. I couldn't do it when I was on the Dew. I thought 8 ounces of water was too many, let alone 8 glasses of water.

Well, now, I get thirsty. Horribly. And I was thirsty yesterday, standing in the lobby at the pop machine, hoping for water. None to be had. Well, it's not too far to home. I'll be okay if I just have something wet. I'll get a root beer.

I get in the car, start drinking the root beer and want to throw up.

I love root beer. I always have. My Dad used to get the kits and make root beer at home. I don't even have a favorite root beer. I like A&W, Hires, Barq's. It doesn't really matter.

This stuff, the Wal-Mart version, was awful. I thought "Did I get a bad can?"

No. I tried Keem's grape pop, same reaction. What's going on?

It finally hits me. I haven't had full flavor (as I like to call non-diet pop) pop in almost a month. I'm reacting to the sugar. I think sugared pop is disgusting now. I guess it's a good thing.

Today, the Mountain Dew bottle was right there. Right within my grasp. I told it no (in my head, not out loud) and walked away. I'm very proud of myself. I still don't think I could resist fountain Mountain Dew yet but I'm proud of the steps I'm making now.

Mountain Dew, how I love thee

I was going to write an ode to Mountain Dew but I decided that would just be silly.

Anyway, I started this blog on 9/6/04. I have officially been Mountain Dew free since the 4th. I have learned to embrace water as my friend (well, acquaintance, really) and drank half a gallon so far today.

I still avoid the restaurant in our building because they serve fountain Mountain Dew, which is sweet, sweet ambrosia and always will be to me. I don't know if I'm strong enough to resist it.

This reminds me, oddly enough, of when I decided to stop smoking pot. I was fine, as long as I didn't smell it. I stopped hanging around friends because I knew they would just want to get me high. I backslid many a time but have been pot free for at least three years now.

I suspect this is what many people go through when they try to give up something. Giving up alcohol was not a problem for me. I don't like to drink, unless, of course, it's a mudslide, because, if you're going to drink alcohol, there should be chocolate. I guess I must not have been addicted to it. Who knew that Mountain Dew could have more of a hold on me than booze? That's kind of funny.

Anyway, I'm doing good. I really appreciate all the comments and emails I've received. It amazes me how good I feel about myself, even when I have a piece of candy or decide lunch is going to be a small bag of cookies (vending size). Most of the time, I make healthy choices. I just choose to indulge myself once in awhile. I stop eating when I'm full. I don't eat if I'm depressed.

I tried on a freshly washed pair of pants today, normally they are pretty tight. I think they're looser. I have no idea if I've lost any weight, I just feel healthier.

Yesterday

Yesterday was not a good day. I did not make good choices. For lunch, I had two slices of pizza (because one was sausage and one was pepperoni. I can never decide which meat I like better. If they would have made a sausage/pepperoni pizza, I would have been okay with one) and then I realized that they had made my absolute favorite salad, cashew chicken salad (except why the grapes? Grapes and chicken do not belong together. It is a horrid travesty of food) and the tuna salad I like and ooh, look, there are green olives.

I justified it by thinking I was going to be at work all night (hanging out with Beth) and wouldn't eat again until after 11:30. Of course, I was completely stuffed and had a hard time moving for a little while and wanted to take a nap under my desk. So I ate some chocolate.

And then we went to IHOP, where I devoured 3 pancakes with syrup and sausage links and hashbrowns with cheese.

But! I did not have Mountain Dew (and believe me when I say I want it. So much. I avoided going out to eat the other day because they serve Mountain Dew. From a soda fountain. Which is the ultimate of the ultimate drink for me). And I continue to drink water. And I've had salads every day this week. So, I am weak but yet, I am also strong. I don't feel guilty. Amazing. Usually this would set me off on a downward spiral of bingeing followed by guilt followed by excessive bingeing.

I am quite flushed with victory right now.

The oddness that is my psyche

When you dream of having someone's tongue in your mouth, you kind of hope it's attached to them. But, oh, no, not me. No, I get to have the freaky non-kissing dreams.

The Dream

Beth, Keem, Matt and I are living in a house (I am assuming that Matt's kids and lover are also living with us but hey, you never know) and there is this woman who is watching over us. A caretaker, for some reason. And she has these sons who decide to perform surgery on me.

I am complaining to her about how her sons, in their infinite wisdom, performed some sort of tongue graft.

She replies "But they did a good job. They fixed your tongue."

I step outside of the calm and rational person that I normally am (yes, yes, laugh away) and respond with "Ah, no! No, they didn't. My tongue wasn't broken. Look, look what they did to me!" I stick my tongue out at her and there, haphazardly sewn on, is a portion of someone else's tongue on mine. And, to add insult to injury, they left the sewing needle inside my tongue. I pull it out to demonstrate. Which sounds really gross but there was no blood. End of dream.

When I wake up, I have a sharp pain in my tongue. I immediately check to make sure no one's tongue is attached to it. I tell Beth the dream and we think I must have bitten my tongue in my sleep. She pulls out the dream book.

Tongues - Having an extra long tongue: trying to overcome a nervous habit.

Sewing needles - You love too much.

Consider this - the night of this dream was the night I made the decision to overcome my obsessive love for food and Mountain Dew. Apparently that translates into having someone else's tongue in your mouth.

Dreams are weird.

No Dew at the Zoo

Yesterday Keem, Beth and I went to the Como Zoo. It was a lot of fun walking about with friends, taking pictures, looking at gorgeous plants and animals.

It completely wore me out though, since exercise is not my friend. I am sitting here today, aches and pains pinging back and forth across my body. But I feel good. It's been over a week since I had Mountain Dew.

There was a brief moment of regret when I walked in and one of my bankers had a bottle of Mountain Dew. I considered wrestling it from him but then thought better of it. Don't particularly want to go down in NABABNA history as the supervisor who beat of her banker for a bottle of pop.

I had an order of cheese curds and a personal size pepperoni pizza with my Diet Coke yesterday. Zoo food doesn't run towards the overly nutritious. Which is part of the fun, I guess. Beth was laughing at the way I ate my pizza. I ate one quarter and the cheese and pepperoni off the other 3 quarters. I don't particularly like thick pizza and love cheese and pepperoni. Even typing pepperoni is fun. Pepperoni, pepperoni, pepperoni.

The best part of the day was being there, with my friends, enjoying the zoo. A few aches and pains can't ruin that feeling. It was a good day.

No Dew for me!

It has been almost a week since I had a Mountain Dew. I am now sitting here with my gallon bottle of Ice Mountain Natural Spring Water. It's pure as the driven snow, just look at their website. Just exactly what is driven snow? Does anyone else wonder about that? Or is it just me?

Anyway, today I wanted a Dew, since I start work at 5:30 AM and the morning is not my friend. But I didn't get one. Instead, I bought the water jug which has been a source of amusement. Since it's the "clear bottle!" The word clear is used four times in three sentences. Apparently the clear bottle is very important to the good folks at Ice Mountain.

I do not understand why there are so many different water companies. It's water. It's boring. It has no taste (well, if you're lucky. If you live in the city, that's another story). And why is Evian twice as much as Aquafina? I need to know these things.

Here's another question, is sparkling water the same as mineral? I hate mineral water and am afraid to buy sparkling water because I'm worried about this.

Support System

I just want to say thank you.

To Beth, Matt, Keem and Adam - Thank you for being friends that don't feel the need to make me cry. I appreciate it. Having you guys around makes my life so much more amazing.

To DeAnn - Thank you for your support and for telling me what glarkware is. I was very confused and now, now I know! It's so great. I like to know what the cool kids are doing.

To Firebear - You have no idea what your comment meant to me. You made me cry. And then, when I told Beth what you said, she cried as well. It was very sweet.

To Robert~Marlene - If I can someday look as classy as you, I will be happy. I love the new picture of Marlene. Yours was the first blog I commented on and I read it regularly.

To Angi - Your observation skills astound me! Your knitting amazes me! You are spectacular and your ex-husband is a dork who doesn't deserve you. Hot Delivery Boy better deserve you or he will be tangling with me. You make me laugh. That's always a good thing.

Day Three or Four or, well, I have no clue anymore, it's all a blur without my beloved, sweet Mountain Dew

Okay. The title sums it up. I miss Mountain Dew. I have managed to remain strong and resist the siren's song.

The whole point to Living Dew Free is to make good choices. I once went to a nutritionist who told me that I could probably lose a pound to two pounds a week if I just cut out full sugar pop. Did I listen? No. Do I regret it? No. Regret those glorious years I spent with my beautiful, beautiful Mountain Dew. Never.

Do I regret all the times I let emotions rule me and would stuff my face because of something some jackass said to me? Yes.

Now that I have finally learned to eat only when I am hungry, now that I don't let emotions take over, now that I have decent friends who don't think it's hilarious to see me cry, I look at myself in the mirror and wonder what the hell happened.

I don't want to be a stick. I'm not looking to be the next super model. I look at pictures of me back in high school and wonder why did I let things get out of control like this? At 18, I weighed 180 pounds, I wore a size 16 or 18 and I looked damn good. I had curves and actual cleavage (ah, cleavage, I miss you most of all).

But I got depressed. And I ate. And my boyfriend, lying, cheating scum that he was, left me to move to Oregon. And I ate. And I fell in with a crowd of people I would not associate with today and continued my exploration with drugs. And I got the munchies.

It was a vicious circle. I saw a doctor a few years back who talked about the fact that I have a lot of testosterone in my blood. It's caused by my excess weight. And the problem with having the excess testosterone (aside from the hairy arms and toes and "stray eyebrows") means that it's difficult for me to lose weight. This was a great guy. He looks me straight in the eye and says "It's not fair. It's a vicious circle. But you can do something about it." But then I saw the other doctor who made this big production about my weight and called me disgusting. And I went home discouraged and I ate.

So here's the thing. It's not fair. It is a vicious circle. But now I'm going to break it.

I don't have a scale. I'm not counting points or giving up carbs. I'm just making choices. I'm Living Dew Free so that means I may decide I want that piece of pie. Or bacon. Oh, sweet bacon, how I love thee (bacon's not really sweet but you get my point). But on the other hand, it may mean that I have a salad for lunch for the last 3 days.

I'm the type of person who can't diet. If I think I'm on a diet, I start to get depressed and feel like I'm starving and then I start bingeing. And then I start feeling guilty. And you know what happens, I'm back in my vicious circle again.

So. I'm not on a diet. I'm making some changes to my life. I'm Living Dew Free.

Day One

Today was interesting. I did not drink Mountain Dew. I did have 138 ounces of water. This works out to roughly 7 20 ounce bottles. On a normal day, I can drink at least 4 or 5 bottles of Mountain Dew and hardly any water. So, I feel good about today.

For lunch, I went to the cafeteria and had a taco salad, except all I had was lettuce, meat, onions and a packet of Buttermilk Ranch dressing. It was actually pretty good. So no cheese, no sour cream, no chips, which is what I normally would eat when I have a taco salad, completely leaving out the "salad" part, the lettuce. So, I feel good about today.

Then, I came home and proceeded to eat, not one, not two but three shortbread cookies. Hmm. Might need to work on that. Oh, and two packets of the new Nabisico 100 calorie pack cookie thins. Not bad, however, not as exciting as the shortbread cookies.

Supper will be spaghetti and garlic bread. But no Mountain Dew. I will drink water and I will like it.

What's the deal? Why another blog?

Because not everyone is interested in the fact that I'm trying to lose weight. Not everyone is going to care what I had to eat this week. But I have realized that Blogger is a powerful thing and since I seem to spend all of my time with a notebook, looking for funny things to write down, why not journal about this as well?

And, for the record, when I ask the question "Is there life after Mountain Dew?" I'm not saying that all I'm giving up is Mountain Dew. There are other things that I have to deal with. What I am saying is that Mountain Dew, since it is the nectar of the gods, is the most loved and wondrous indulgence of all and I will truly, truly miss it. Unless, of course, I decide to rationally allow myself a Mountain Dew on a special occasion.

So, if you decide to read, thank you. If you have any advice or helpful tips, even better. The comments are set up so you don't have to be with Blogger to comment. I may, someday, get daring and try haloscan. Not sure yet.

Have a nice day. Tuesday, I start living Dew free. I might not be so pleasant then.

It's time to talk about it - the post that started it all

*Update - After two people read this and told me that this came across as sad, I just wanted to state that sadness is not my intention here. It's just coming to grips with the fact that I'm fat and I need to do something about it. It's supposed to be funny. Well, in a pathetic, my life was hell, kind of way. Anyway, I'm not looking for pity. I'm not looking for someone to say "You're not fat, Dana, you're just (insert politically correct word)." This is just what I need to do to actually do something about my weight, again. Maybe this time I can stick to something. I'm looking for support from my friends. I think we can do anything with a little help from our friends. Thanks.

Okay, obviously, from the title, this is something that I don't talk about. I don't address this and it's eating me up inside. I am overweight. And those of you who know me or have seen my picture are probably thinking "Well, yeah, we knew that. So?"

I started gaining weight in 3rd or 4th grade. I trace this back to when I first got glasses and I, the least trendiest person in the world, chose a pair of glasses that were shaped like octagons (the first in many, many stops aboard the "What Were You Thinking" Train) which both my mother and the eye doctor tried to convince me to not choose. I, however, was secure in my belief that I looked cool. Alas, I did not.Now, I was somewhat popular in 3rd grade. I had friends amongst the cool kids and went to sleepover parties at the home of some of the rich and popular girls.

So I was secure in my reflected coolness when I went to school, wearing my octagon glasses. I was about to learn my first lesson about how cruel kids can be. Suddenly people who I thought were my friends were denying that they had ever spent any time with me outside of school. Do you have any idea how disconcerting that is for someone? To say "Hey, do you remember that movie we watched when I spent the night at your house?" And have them reply "What are you talking about? You never stayed over." I sat there, staring at her, thinking "Am I insane? Did I make this all up? I swear, it happened. We watched 'What's Up, Doc.' I remember this."

For whatever reason, I couldn't handle the rejection. And I started to eat. I'm not condoning it, I'm not saying "Oh, look at poor Dana, she's a victim. It wasn't her, it was all those bad kids that forced her to gain weight" because that's not what happened. I could give you all of the factors of what contributed to my weight gain, I could line them up for you. Oh, let's do it for fun. Okay? Shall we list the reasons of misery? Yes! Let's do it!

1. I was rejected by my classmates and made a figure of fun every frickin' day of my life in school (I think they made a movie about it, called "Carrie" (okay, it wasn't that bad and, luckily for the friendly and wondrous rich bitches of my childhood, I do not have the psychic powers I joke about)
2. I may or may not have been molested by a teacher (I have a tendency to block out a lot from my past, there are certain memories, however, that validate this theory) in 3rd grade
3. My father was an alcoholic so addiction runs in the family (hey, why do you think I don't drink anymore?)
4. My father may or may not have molested me (actually, I'm leaning towards probably not. A former friend, may he rot in a fiery, fiery burning hell of hellfire, said he hypnotized me one night and I had memories of this happening that, conveniently, I don't really remember. But he was my friend and friends sometimes have to tell you bad things, right? (And sometimes your friends will turn to a waitress and say "We're moving. We have to get a new apartment because Dana's ass is too big for the one we're in." And sometimes friends will use you as a free nanny service and take everything you make from your crummy job and allow you to dig through the ashtray for cigarette butts because you don't make enough money for you to actually buy your own cigarettes because you're giving all your money to him. Okay, I seem to have been sidetracked. Sorry) Anyway, I think he lied to me about my Dad because it was just one more thing he could do to alienate me from my family and fall more under his spell. Dad was a lush, yes, probably not a child molester)
5. I seem to encourage people to, hmm, I was going to say mock but I think the word I really want is "Crush my spirit under their heel until I can do nothing more than sob myself to sleep and eat, eat, eat to fill the empty hole in my empty soul."
6. I fell for the oldest line in the book when I was 15. The "I love you" line. 17 year old who broke my heart (okay, bent it. A lot) and then, of course, I felt guilty. So I slept with every guy who ever showed interest in me because I was a slut and deserved to be treated like dirt and then I ate more because I was depressed and then I slept with different guys because the other ones, of course, took what they want and left and now, I am very fat and very much alone and I kind of like it because I don't have to worry about guys coming on to me because, let's face it, I am so very fat and I don't have to worry about whether or not I should sleep with them because they are paying attention to me but, on the other hand, I am still waiting for the big kiss and seven years of non-kissing really kind of sucks. Which, according to a recurring dream I have had for many years, the big kiss will not be happening until I am 900 years old and in a nursing home (seriously. I'll tell you about the dream someday).
7. My God, isn't this enough?

Anyway, it's no longer 3rd/4th grade, I walked up the stairs carrying a fairly light box and almost died from the asthma attack last night, I haven't seen my feet since I don't know when, I am so very sick and tired of breaking into a sweat by walking to the phone, I have had a very persistent visitor for the last year (that's all the detail you get. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about) and, well, you know, I'd like to wear a size 18 again. Please God, once before I die, okay?

And, since I don't have the psychic powers or a magic wand or a fairy godmother, ain't nobody going to lose this weight for me. I have to do it myself. So, I'm going to give it another shot. But this time, I'm going to go public with it. Starting Tuesday, I'm going to see if there is life without Mountain Dew.

I'm really thinking there isn't. I know it's good for me, but water, not so tasty, you know? Anyway, join me on my fun filled trip. God knows, I can use the support because I am so very, very weak.