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Tricked and Treated

November 1, 2010
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I had a horrible and wonderful weekend. It had emotionally traumatic moments, a rarity in my usually drama free life. It also had absolutely great hours. I’m going to stick to the parts that relate to food and my physical heart, even though there is a very blurry line, as we all know, between the physical heart and the emotional one.

We haven’t stuck to the plan all weekend, resorting to a little off the page meandering here and there, more out of necessity than intention. We spent a day in the mountains and though we took snacks, found ourselves with a friend at a buffet. What we did eat that didn’t fit within the confines of our plan was disappointing to us both. Lee made a big pot of Chile and we also finally splurged on Milky Ways. The snack size left us both a little queasy. Otherwise, we made it through Halloween without any permanent dietary scars and perhaps even a slight improvement in conviction. While our tastes have obviously drastically changed in a very short amount of time, we are aware of how quickly they could change back. As Cinderella, our vegetarian coach could carry us through a drive-thru of the nearest fast food joint in a flash and our tastes could quickly adapt back to being quite comfortable coated in oil.

Lee also made a big batch of hummus, experiencing our new ninja toy for the first time in all its chopping and mincing glory. With two leftover soups, Chili and the hummus, I shouldn’t have to cook for at least two days.

I got on the scales today and there I sit at 132.5#. It’s the same weight loss I saw after less than two weeks, but then my weight bounced back up. I think this is really where I am after a month, a loss of six pounds. That’s a pound and a half a week. That’s not the stuff reality shows are made of, but I suppose that considering I gained it at a rate of two pounds a month, it is better than it could be. I’m not down a size, but I do feel a little difference in my clothes. My daughter and Lee both say they see it in my face. Holly also says she can feel it when she gives me a hug.

I still feel pale and rung out. I felt that way before the emotional trauma of the weekend. Before anyone start trying to figure things out, I don’t talk about things until I’m damn good and ready and may never be. Lee and I are fabulous. All my loved ones you have heard about are healthy. This too shall pass. I am out of bed today and that is good. That I am thin-skinned, in fact barely skinned at all, is abundantly clear.

Oh, Rudi starts school on Friday. His pulling and misbehavior seems to be worse every day. There has been a very real fear that he will jerk his way free of my hold and follow his nose without looking up until he is in another state, or, jerk me to the ground cracking my head open. I know it is me that needs the training, so we start on Friday. We looked into private doggy boot camps. They run around $1800. So, we opted for the local super sized pet supply store group classes with a dog trainer who sold us with her concern rather than her sales tactics. It was me who mentioned classes. Then again, that might have been her tactic after all and it worked very well. Either way, off to doggy school we go.

Tomorrow, we vote. I had thought of joining Georgia Equality downtown and holding campaign posters from my wheelchair. I will settle to be at the polls when they open in the morning and watching it all on TV after that. It really matters to me. It really, really matters. Oh, but that’s a whole other blog.

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