One Year Older…

October 12th was my birthday… Yay!

And before you start counting on your fingers and toes to figure out just how old I am, the answer is…


I KNOW. WAH-WAH, poor baby! Another spoiled little 20-something on here to whine about how cruel life has been for the last 15 minutes of my life. 😉 Don’t worry folks, you won’t get that here (but after a few glasses of wine? Maaaaybeee…)

Although, I will admit that it’s a little painful to watch one more year go by and realizing that nothing has worked out the way it was supposed to be (you know, according to the 6-year-old me who knew that I would be a mermaid/princess/movie star by now!) Geez, I am such a letdown when I think of it like that… 😉

It has been a pretty awesome weekend, though. We had some friends over on Friday for wine, pizza, wine, cupcakes, and wine. Oh, and we had some wine, too! Don’t give me that look, everyone knows you get to have wine and cake on your birthday! I fully accept responsibility for any damage I might have done to my liver  weight loss efforts. Back on the wagon Monday, people! 😉

Saturday, we decided to wander downtown to the farmer’s market they hold every weekend by the river. I was like a kid in a candy store, perusing the arts and crafts, colorful produce, fresh homemade pastas and artisan breads, gourmet salsas and sauces… Oh my goodness! It was a beautifully sunny day made even better by a guitarist strumming away on a stage right by the water. It was a nice, relaxing way to ease into the second half of my twenties.



Ok, so it could have been worse. A lot worse, but I was pretty excited about it anyway! When we found a little pepper stand, I let the husband go a little nuts and he just had to have some habaneros. He’s a sucker for spicy things! I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with all of these peppers, but I’m thinking now is a good time to break out the food processor and give homemade salsa a whirl. Who amongst you is brave enough to be my guinea pig?!

But hands off the eggplant. I’ve got plans for that little guy. BIG PLANS. 


Not pictured: the little baggy of doggy treats we got for donating to a retired Greyhound shelter. Kairi is quite pleased with them. (Oh, she recently had a birthday too! My big baby turned two on the 8th!)

Afterwards, we had lunch at one of the “forbidden restaurants” that I normally have to avoid because there’s simply no way in hell I can behave when they keep bringing out those fresh breadsticks… Our waitress was a complete sweetheart and overheard us mentioning that it was a birthday so she sang to me. And I don’t mean one of those annoying drag-everyone-out-of-the-kitchen-for-a *clapclapclapHAPPYHAPPYBIRTHDAYwehatedoingthisandweknowyouknowwedo* songs, just a simple little happy birthday tune. It was really nice of her, I thought. 🙂

So, the husband spoiled me about as far as I would let him. (Hey, military budget, remember?) It was nice to just relax and enjoy the day, not calculating every calorie or worrying about my crappy doctor or anything like that. We got to allow ourselves a distraction from the stresses in our lives and have some fun together. I am definitely going to make sure we have a day like that every now and then, and this is me gently encouraging you to do the same with your special someones, whether its to celebrate a birthday OR just to celebrate each other. Okay, enough of that sentimental stuff before it gets too warm and fuzzy in here…

And the icing on the cake (haha!) was coming back to the bloggy world and finding out that ACalmPersistance has nominated me for The Sunshine Award, which really made me smile because it was just so sweet of her. (I’ll give you three guesses what my next post is going to be!) She is celebrating a birthday this weekend too, so you should totally hop over to her blog and give her a big hug! Go ahead, you’re not going to miss anything here, I’m just going to wrap this up and then go play some XBox or something! ;P

So, while I spend what is left of this weekend crashing down from my epic sugar rush, I look forward to catching up on how the rest of you are doing. And I hope there are no hard feelings because I wasn’t able to invite you all over for cake (and wine?) Just know that if I could have, I would have, because you ladies are rock stars and I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you over the last few weeks. ;D

Stay strong!


Duh 101

As we climbed back into the car after my “incredibly informative” nutritionist appointment, I remember telling my husband, “Why don’t they just call that class ‘Friggin Duh 101?'”

I use the term “appointment” loosely, because what I thought was going to be my chance to explain my history and have an educated dietician agree with me that something is obviously wrong was ACTUALLY a class. A presentation. A colossal waste of my time.

Hand to God, there was a slideshow. A slideshow. With pictures of food and charts of calories. One slide talked about the importance of drinking water. She even gave us the equation to find out our BMI’s. Meanwhile, I stared at the freakin’ app on my phone that could tell me the very same information in a matter of seconds without fussing with a calculator. For the duration of the presentation, I fought the urge to roll my eyes every. time. she mentioned that there are 3,500 calories in a pound of fat, that fast food is bad, that you should keep a journal of what you eat… etc., etc,.

Really? It’s that simple, huh? Why didn’t I think of that? *Insert epic eyeroll here*

If only I’d thought to mention to my primary care doctor that I have tried every trick in the book, so to speak. If only I’d thought to tell him that despite a decade of struggling with my weight, I still have a hard time getting (and keeping) results. If only I had somehow conveyed to him that my body doesn’t want to follow the rules set forth by science.

Oh, that’s right, I did. 

And his first move was to subject me to this? A slideshow that literally looked as if an 8th grader had put it together as a last minute project for health class?

After the torturously redundant slideshow was over, a few of us who were a little more serious about getting healthier were herded (yes, I said herded) by a second uniformed dietician to a tiny office where we could make appointments to speak with a nutritionist one-on-one and hash out an individual plan. I snagged an appointment for the beginning of November and hustled back to the car before the profanities of rage and sarcasm began.

Up until then, I had tried to give my primary care Doc the benefit of the doubt. I tried desperately to hang on to those feelings of optimism he had given me after the first appointment. But now? No… I’m angry. I get that he’s busy. I get that my inability to have a child of my own is probably the least of his concerns, BUT STILL.

He said he would call me after the results of the well woman’s exam came back, and he didn’t: I got a generic card in the mail with “results normal” checkmarked. He said he would schedule me for some blood work, and he hasn’t. He also said that he would have the husband scheduled for an SA so that he could be ruled out before we did anything “drastic” with me, and guess what?

He hasn’t done that either…

So, basically, the panicky part of my brain is flipping out and is trying to convince me that I got one of those doctors who takes one look at you, sees that you are heavy, tunes out everything else you say, stubbornly believes that being fat is always the cause of the problem and could never be a symptom of a much larger health issue (Hello, PCOS!), refers you to a classroom with a slideshow about calorie intake and pats himself on the back for attempting to make the world a much more beautiful place…

That’s not rational, is it? Am I overreacting? Or am I right to be this anxious about feeling like my baby journey has come to a complete standstill before it ever really had a chance to get started? 😦

I kept putting this update off because I knew I was going to whine the entire time, and that I wouldn’t actually have anything of value to say… again.

But… What can I say? I am a basket case these days. Sex isn’t happening, since it’s cycle day 37 and I am still. freaking. bleeding. My doctor has forgotten about me and apparently wants to blame all of the world’s evils on my fatness. (Maybe if his penis had a tendency to bleed for several months at a time he’d be a little more sympathetic? I dunno.) I am kicking my own ass SO HARD for waiting so long to get this started… If I’d known it was going to be like this, I would have made that first appointment as soon as we moved here last November. Damn my pride and inability to admit when I need help. 😥

Oh, and now my husband is talking about getting another dog, which basically makes me feel like he just kicked me in the mouth and told me we aren’t ever going to have a kid so we might as well load up on the furbabies… 😦

Again, I’m sure that’s just my panicky brain talking, right…? Right?

And don’t even get me started on how I feel about my birthday being one stupid week away…