Hey yeah, we're back. Still a little jet-lagged and discombobulated. The living room is still a giant mess, mostly strewn with piles of stuff that we acquired in the US. I have to figure out what to do with it all in the meantime.
Anyway, I had big plans to write up our trip last night, and then I drank a bottle of Pinot Noir (thanks KS!) and played PS2 with Joel instead.
Tonight may be the night.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Take me with you!
Everyone wants to go to the States. Even the cat. See, he's packed himself. T-6 hours til taxi pick up. I'm sleepy.
See you on the flip-side.
Oh, and a HUGE, HUGE thanks goes out to SZJ for taking care of this wonder, who will be unpacked before we get in the taxi, while we're gone. I will be able to enjoy myself that much more knowing he's in good hands! You're the best!
See you on the flip-side. Oh, and a HUGE, HUGE thanks goes out to SZJ for taking care of this wonder, who will be unpacked before we get in the taxi, while we're gone. I will be able to enjoy myself that much more knowing he's in good hands! You're the best!
I lied
Yesterday I said that it was coming down wet and heavy and not sticking... grrr... this morning we wake up to practically a winter wonderland- it feels like it should be December- but it's not, which just makes it annoying!
Worse yet, I just got word from my parents that the weather in the midwest is similar. :( Oh well- at least in Michigan I'll have friends and family and shopping and restaurants and all those other goodies to keep me busy! :) We leave early tomorrow morning (we'll be at the airport around 5am) and will arrive in Chicago around 2pm Thursday Chicago time. Oh, if only it was really that short a flight! :)
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Snow and other reasons to leave Latvia
I just took this out the window. I know it's not the best picture, but, you can see the millions of small white flecks- snow. Today is March 18th. I know it's not the latest it's ever snowed, but, I'm over it. Especially since it seems a few weeks ago we were having sunny and somewhat warm weather; it was +10 at least! Anyway... none of this snow is sticking, but it is making it a wet world out there. I'm just ready for spring-like weather since the first day of spring is in two days!
Also, I will not tell the whole long story, because I have already told it a few times, but yesterday a little old lady- who really looked like a kind of nice and classy old grandma, told me, literally, to fuck off on the bus. Why? Not because I was stealing her purse, or pushing or shoving or doing any number of highly inappropriate things that people do on buses here, but because I don't speak Russian. I was so minding my own business, talking to DS (most probably in English!) and when she started talking to me in Russian, I just nicely said that I don't speak Russian. She then proceeded to start mocking me, rolling her eyes, speaking some German as well, and lastly, when I just continued to stare at her wide-eyed, she told me to fuck off- in grammatically incorrect Latvian. It really made my day. NOT. It really made me sad I'm leaving this country. NOT.
I'm a little cranky today. I need a nap.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Saturday Morning Navel Gazing
(This is going to be a writer-bares-all type of post- intimate and detailed- read at your own risk.)
Recently, it seems, loads of women in my circles are finding themselves. They are getting through all the SHIT that is there to get through, and they are getting to the truth that is inside.
It's making me wonder about myself, and how long it will take for me to get there.
These women are inspirations to me... they don't take things too seriously, they surround themselves with people that make them smile and laugh, they move their bodies with ease, dedication and most of all FUN, they feed their bodies with food that nourishes and satisfies them, they take time to do things that matter to them, and don't buy into the hype around stuff that they don't care about. They know their own value- and it has nothing to do with the man standing next to them, or the number written on the inside of their pants. Oh, and, most of these women are also aged 50 +/-5 years.
As for me... well... lately, I've been sneaking food. You know, waiting until no one is watching and then grabbing the extra plate of dinner, the candy bar or the cookies. Eating it pretty quickly, and without tasting much of it. I've been sick the last week, so I've been using that as an excuse, but, I also quit exercising because after more than a month of getting up a half hour earlier at least 4 times a week and moving my body I wasn't seeing ANY changes- wasn't seeing them or feeling them.
I've regressed in my growth- given up, once again feeling like I will never reach a state of physical being or health that I once had.
More distressing is that my whole self-worth is wrapped up in what I look like, what number is inside my pants, and how crappily I treat the only body I have.
I'm leaving for the States in just a few days. I am of course, very excited about this. Do you know though, the thing that makes me not want to go? Being fat. Being the fattest I have ever been in my life. Knowing that of my four parents, there will be at least one if not two, who will comment on the fact that I have reached this state. Knowing that I am going to meet old friends who have not seen me in over two years- some in nearly 10 years, and the first impression will be, "Wow, she's sure gotten fat." The shame is overwhelming.
God help me if anyone I run into asks me if I am pregnant. It wouldn't be the first time that it's happened, but that doesn't mean I will take it any better than usual, or that that person will live.
Over two years ago I embarked on a journey into re-learning how to eat which I wrote a bit about here. That was two years ago that I was ready and willing to let go and let nature, let go and be healthy. Since then I have had ups and downs, but basically, I have ended up about 8kgs heavier than then and still in the same old patterns of over-eating, self-loathing and little exercise.
The other day Joel and I were on a tram to somewhere and I was in a crying fit (meaning one of those times where it doesn't matter where we are (hello tram) or what is going on, but the tears just start streaming down my face and there is nothing that can stop them) about how fucked up I am. And I started to wonder, is it because my childhood was REALLY that bad that I got THIS messed up from it? Or is it that it wasn't that bad, but I'm just weak, and can't handle it? Or was it post childhood stuff that fucked me up? Was it one too many boyfriends who echoed my dad's voice concerning my body- and then weren't the ones and left and opened up another hole for me to stuff food into? And WHO was it that led me down the road of self-worth=body size anyway???
(God help me that my potential mother in law, sisters in law and who knows else is reading this and thinking, EEEK- RUN! and get her away from Joel!)
It turns out that for me, nothing, so far, has been enough. I have been through SO MANY programs and therapies and diets and exercise programs and none of it- nothing has been the thing that would make a difference for me.
Either this is so deep that it needs way more, or I'm just broken.
People tell me all the time how awesome and courageous I am. About how I've done so much in my life already, and they have been such exciting things. I am smart, I'm working on a graduate degree, I teach children, and lots of parents would say that I have done a great job. I have traveled and seen more of the world than many will in their whole lives. I am in a wonderful relationship with a wonderful man. I'm moving to Africa in a few months!
And yet, and yet, the only thing that seems to matter TO ME is that I can't fit into my pants- or that I have had to buy increasingly larger sizes every few months to keep up with the ever expanding belly. When I see a picture of myself at this size, I cry.
Why can't I see myself the way that other people see me? Why can't I value the other accomplishments instead of my BMI?
So, this makes me wonder, how long will it take for me to get where these other women in my circles are getting? Is it a matter of time? Do I have to reach age 50 before I can get through all of this shit and finally find the truth inside? Or, will I be one of those women, who at age 50+ is still singing the same old diet and self-loathing song?
I am left wondering still, what it will take. Will becoming a mother change me? Will I just have other things to worry about and no time or space in my head for self-loathing? Will the experience of pregnancy in and of itself change the way I see my body? Or will I become one of those mommies who eats her own meal, and then eats whats left over on her kids plates too- because motherhood DOES NOT break the binge cycle for all! God knows there are plenty of women in this country who get back down to size 0 a couple of weeks post-birth, but there are way more women all over the world who never ever lose the baby weight. Which one will I be? And will I care?
Is my problem that I am too much of an open book? Even my therapist says that the problem is not in and of itself that I am too open, but that in my openness I expect that others will share with me equally openly, and most don't. Which means, I'm giving away so much of myself, and not getting enough in return. I'm left with holes. Holes that need to be filled with something. Why not food? Why not self-hate?
Do I need to take a man's point of view on this one? Just eat less and exercise more? God if only it were that simple. WHY did I eat two dinners last night, why, even though I knew I wasn't hungry, and didn't need the food, and was AWARE of this, why did I do it anyway? I think if I could answer this question, then I could be more like a man, and I could handle it with the simple equation of eat less, exercise more.
Does this whole post make me a voice for women the world over who suffer life I do, or am I baring my unique and individual demons for the world to see- and scaring people off in the process?
For me, this post has given way to a serious cry, been a great way to procrastinate doing my school work, and well, sort of left me with another hole.
I don't know the answers to any of this. I don't have any inspired moves to take next. And I don't want anybody to comment on this post with something like, "Try pilates!" or "Have you ever tried Weight Watchers?" because that is NOT the point!
I'm just going to leave it, as is. This is one aspect of me, one side, maybe just one demon. Now it is here. Hopefully, God willing, it is ever so slightly more here than inside of me now, and it can stay that way.
But the question remains, will it happen when I'm 50?
Recently, it seems, loads of women in my circles are finding themselves. They are getting through all the SHIT that is there to get through, and they are getting to the truth that is inside.
It's making me wonder about myself, and how long it will take for me to get there.
These women are inspirations to me... they don't take things too seriously, they surround themselves with people that make them smile and laugh, they move their bodies with ease, dedication and most of all FUN, they feed their bodies with food that nourishes and satisfies them, they take time to do things that matter to them, and don't buy into the hype around stuff that they don't care about. They know their own value- and it has nothing to do with the man standing next to them, or the number written on the inside of their pants. Oh, and, most of these women are also aged 50 +/-5 years.
As for me... well... lately, I've been sneaking food. You know, waiting until no one is watching and then grabbing the extra plate of dinner, the candy bar or the cookies. Eating it pretty quickly, and without tasting much of it. I've been sick the last week, so I've been using that as an excuse, but, I also quit exercising because after more than a month of getting up a half hour earlier at least 4 times a week and moving my body I wasn't seeing ANY changes- wasn't seeing them or feeling them.
I've regressed in my growth- given up, once again feeling like I will never reach a state of physical being or health that I once had.
More distressing is that my whole self-worth is wrapped up in what I look like, what number is inside my pants, and how crappily I treat the only body I have.
I'm leaving for the States in just a few days. I am of course, very excited about this. Do you know though, the thing that makes me not want to go? Being fat. Being the fattest I have ever been in my life. Knowing that of my four parents, there will be at least one if not two, who will comment on the fact that I have reached this state. Knowing that I am going to meet old friends who have not seen me in over two years- some in nearly 10 years, and the first impression will be, "Wow, she's sure gotten fat." The shame is overwhelming.
God help me if anyone I run into asks me if I am pregnant. It wouldn't be the first time that it's happened, but that doesn't mean I will take it any better than usual, or that that person will live.
Over two years ago I embarked on a journey into re-learning how to eat which I wrote a bit about here. That was two years ago that I was ready and willing to let go and let nature, let go and be healthy. Since then I have had ups and downs, but basically, I have ended up about 8kgs heavier than then and still in the same old patterns of over-eating, self-loathing and little exercise.
The other day Joel and I were on a tram to somewhere and I was in a crying fit (meaning one of those times where it doesn't matter where we are (hello tram) or what is going on, but the tears just start streaming down my face and there is nothing that can stop them) about how fucked up I am. And I started to wonder, is it because my childhood was REALLY that bad that I got THIS messed up from it? Or is it that it wasn't that bad, but I'm just weak, and can't handle it? Or was it post childhood stuff that fucked me up? Was it one too many boyfriends who echoed my dad's voice concerning my body- and then weren't the ones and left and opened up another hole for me to stuff food into? And WHO was it that led me down the road of self-worth=body size anyway???
(God help me that my potential mother in law, sisters in law and who knows else is reading this and thinking, EEEK- RUN! and get her away from Joel!)
It turns out that for me, nothing, so far, has been enough. I have been through SO MANY programs and therapies and diets and exercise programs and none of it- nothing has been the thing that would make a difference for me.
Either this is so deep that it needs way more, or I'm just broken.
People tell me all the time how awesome and courageous I am. About how I've done so much in my life already, and they have been such exciting things. I am smart, I'm working on a graduate degree, I teach children, and lots of parents would say that I have done a great job. I have traveled and seen more of the world than many will in their whole lives. I am in a wonderful relationship with a wonderful man. I'm moving to Africa in a few months!
And yet, and yet, the only thing that seems to matter TO ME is that I can't fit into my pants- or that I have had to buy increasingly larger sizes every few months to keep up with the ever expanding belly. When I see a picture of myself at this size, I cry.
Why can't I see myself the way that other people see me? Why can't I value the other accomplishments instead of my BMI?
So, this makes me wonder, how long will it take for me to get where these other women in my circles are getting? Is it a matter of time? Do I have to reach age 50 before I can get through all of this shit and finally find the truth inside? Or, will I be one of those women, who at age 50+ is still singing the same old diet and self-loathing song?
I am left wondering still, what it will take. Will becoming a mother change me? Will I just have other things to worry about and no time or space in my head for self-loathing? Will the experience of pregnancy in and of itself change the way I see my body? Or will I become one of those mommies who eats her own meal, and then eats whats left over on her kids plates too- because motherhood DOES NOT break the binge cycle for all! God knows there are plenty of women in this country who get back down to size 0 a couple of weeks post-birth, but there are way more women all over the world who never ever lose the baby weight. Which one will I be? And will I care?
Is my problem that I am too much of an open book? Even my therapist says that the problem is not in and of itself that I am too open, but that in my openness I expect that others will share with me equally openly, and most don't. Which means, I'm giving away so much of myself, and not getting enough in return. I'm left with holes. Holes that need to be filled with something. Why not food? Why not self-hate?
Do I need to take a man's point of view on this one? Just eat less and exercise more? God if only it were that simple. WHY did I eat two dinners last night, why, even though I knew I wasn't hungry, and didn't need the food, and was AWARE of this, why did I do it anyway? I think if I could answer this question, then I could be more like a man, and I could handle it with the simple equation of eat less, exercise more.
Does this whole post make me a voice for women the world over who suffer life I do, or am I baring my unique and individual demons for the world to see- and scaring people off in the process?
For me, this post has given way to a serious cry, been a great way to procrastinate doing my school work, and well, sort of left me with another hole.
I don't know the answers to any of this. I don't have any inspired moves to take next. And I don't want anybody to comment on this post with something like, "Try pilates!" or "Have you ever tried Weight Watchers?" because that is NOT the point!
I'm just going to leave it, as is. This is one aspect of me, one side, maybe just one demon. Now it is here. Hopefully, God willing, it is ever so slightly more here than inside of me now, and it can stay that way.
But the question remains, will it happen when I'm 50?
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Painful mistakes
So, every once in a while, I think to myself, surely, I must not have THAT much trouble with dairy...I mean... come on... it's delicious!
As you may know I gave up dairy for LentAl (read here for more on that). This means that since February 6th, I have been avoiding all dairy products to the best of my abilities. In that time, I have made a few missteps- one of my student's had a birthday, and I chose to partake in her cake, which obviously had a fluffy dairy like filling, and there have been a few occasions that I have consumed butter- oh and one day I was faced with flan, and well, you can imagine how that ended (picture me, stuffing face, flan gone).
But mostly, I have really tried to avoid dairy...and mostly it hasn't been THAT difficult. I haven't gone out to eat much in that time, which has certainly probably helped.
The few times that I have fallen a bit off my nondairy wagon, I have been reminded gently by my guts why this is not a good idea.
Well, tonight, I got a very, very clear, not so gentle, "stop freaking eating dairy!!!!" message.
I was eating quiche before I even thought about the fact that in addition to loads of eggs (which I would have been fine with, hence my decision to eat it!) quiche is also made with heavy cream! I tend to eat pretty fast, so I was half way through this quiche before I even thought to myself, "Self, this probably has dairy in it". I was done with it (I'm telling you though, this was like 6 minutes after the first bite) when my the first gut cramp hit. It was about another 3 until I blew right up like a balloon. And it was about 5 more until I was repeatedly racing to the loo. I'll spare you the details but will say, it was painful (the cramps are the worst!), it was unpleasant, and even though the quiche was very, very good, it was NOT worth what it cost me.
I've had a couple of people sort of poke a bit of fun at me over the fact that I have given up dairy (well, this is practically unimaginable in Latvia- you should SEE the amounts of dairy products in the stores, and in people's shopping...unreal!) for Lent. I've tried to not let it bother me, because I know that people who do not understand what I go through when I eat dairy would think it was silly.
But this is about my quality of life now. Stomach cramps, bloated guts and mad racing to the loo do not a good life make. This is not about saving the cows (though it is a little) and it's not about saving the environment (though of course it is), and it's not even about my health because I found out on the internet tonight that lactose intolerance is not a harmful to your health condition (although of course it is also about my health)- this is about quality of life, about enjoying what there is to enjoy, and not missing the things that happen because I'm doubled over from cramps, or sitting in the dunny (as it's referred to around here).
Can I tell you how excited I am to go to the States in just 12 days (!) and enjoy soy ice cream, soy sour cream and soy cream cheese!!! Oh I cannot wait! :)
If you ever see me trying to talk myself into being able to handle any substantial amount of dairy again, please direct me back to this post. Here's to not making any more of these painful mistakes!
(And here's to some happy cows! :) )
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