Minor Alterations

We are in the midst of doing some alterations to the kitchen. As I've expressed before I can not handle being out of my schedule or things being out of place. I do not do well in an unorganized environment. So, even though I'm supposed to be studying for my next insurance broker exam - I can't sit and study because my mind is listing off all of the other things that need to be done. I can't even settle myself in this environment. I decided I need to try to sort through some of it before I can be productive.

Now, most often when I seek out to do something like this I actually end up doing something totally different...that doesn't actually help meet my goal. Like the time I was supposed to be tidying up before we went away for the weekend because I had a dog sitter coming and ultimately ended up rearranging the silverware drawer. Much like that, instead of sorting through the items we took out of the kitchen cupboards we cut out (long story) and placed in my dining room and actually need to permanently relocate - I find myself in the laundry room. I try to tell myself that if I could go through the shelves and cupboards there, I might be able to create some additional space for the homeless items in my dining room. Even though I know I'm taking on a bigger project than I really have time for and will probably create a larger mess than I started with...I drag a chair into the laundry room and I begin in the top of the cupboards.

Everything is going nicely. I had actually re-organized these cupboards following a hurricane not long ago that left us without power for 8 days. I accomplished a lot of organizing that week.  Thankfully, this helped my project today. I took down one of the baskets and peaked to see if there was anything I could clean out of it. I set it down and reached back up...as my eyes moved upward they came into contact with the beady eyes of a very petrified mouse.

I actually screamed. I think if the mouse could make any signifigant level of noise, it would have screamed, too. I think we definitely scared each other. I'm not normally scared of mice. I spent an entire weekend underneath my mini home this Fall cleaning it out, putting up new insulation and new skirting...which never bothered me a bit. However, I guess I was expecting a possible visit then and today...I was not. 

I panicked and slammed the cupboard door...but really, I couldn't keep him in there. So, I'm thinking. We can't exactly cohabitate. But if I catch him and let him go outside he may have a hard time finding a new home and freeze to death. I then realize that I don't know even where he is at this point. The cupboard is pretty big and he could have gone anywhere. Becca, who I bellowed to for help, has found a box for us to try to catch him in. But, I can't make myself open the door. If I open the door and he scambles away there is a 90% chance one of the cats will get him.

Her: Open the door and we'll get him in this box.
Me: I can't.
Her: *reaches for the cupboard door*
Me: NO!!
Her: We need to.
Me: But I can't.
Her: Why?
Me: Because if he gets away the cats will get him.
Her: So?
Me: So, I've already formed a special bond with him, I can't watch them tortute and kill him.
Her: You, my friend...have never formed a special bond with anything.
Me: I've formed one with this mouse.
Her: I'm pretty sure the cats would bat around, torture and kill any of us in this house and you'd just carry on reading a book.
Me: Not true...
Her: Right, you'd probably save Piper.
Me: I would.

Becca luckily got the box over the mouse and and slid a piece of cardboard over the opening so we could carry him. She passed the box off to me and I went to the door...and...just stood there.

Her: What?
Me: Where is he going to go?
Her: Outside.
Me: Yes, but where will he live?
Her: Outside.
Me: But he'll freeze.
Her: Just give it to me.
Me: Put him in the garbage box - he'll love it in there. He can be warm and have lots of food.
Her: Yes...and nibble holes in the bags and make a mess...Excellent idea. 

She set him free in the woods. I'm pretending that he's happy in a burrow of some sort. He's probably made a home in the shed. I hope.

After my mouse friend is taken care of, I buckle down and got what I could done. Since the kitchen business isn't entirely complete, there are some things that just do not have a place and I need to try to deal with the mounds of cook books, baking tools and accessories piled on my table for now.

Thankfully, there is a bit more order and I feel I can successfully function. Which means I may even be able to meet some goals this week as well. Step 1 was to cut out unnecessary calories wasted on things like drinks, condiments, etc. Step 2 is going to be to find a time slot to incorporate some exercise. That's always the difficult part for me. No excuses, though. If I have to get up again at 5:30am in order to squeeze it in, I will. I'll also be happy while I'm doing it, dammit!

Thirty and...A Country Fan?? Take 2.

Oh boy, do I have a treat for you today! As you know, country is not my preferred music genre, but I found myself yet again - at a country concert with friends Becca, Courtney & Terra.

As the time approached and I anticipate that actual Eric fans are becoming excited, I came across this lovely Eric Church e-card. Now, since I only know one line, of the chorus, of one song  (Drink a Little Drink, Smoke a Little Smoke) I have no idea what any of it means - but I'm trying to hype everyone up, so even though it seems like it might be somewhat inappropriate, I share it...complete with tagging all of my concert going friends. But when Becca received her notification, she busts into laughter and says "Do you know what that means?". She proceeds to read me the lyrics of Wrecking Ball. Holy moly. FAR.MORE.INAPPRORIATE.THAN.I.REALIZED. Woops. Sorry, FB friends!!

The big day rolls around and for once, I am not prepared. Becca comes home from work and I'm not showered or packed. We're not off to a good start, as I was running very late - not like me at all. Normally, I am a very prompt person. Then, as we were about to finally leave Becca, who has recently become a very prompt person is frantically looking for her brown sandals.

Her: I can't find my sandals. I'm going to have to wear these.
*sporting neon pink and green Nike's*
Me: Uh, no...
Her: Well, I need my brown sandals, but I can't find them.
Me: They're probably in the closet.
Her: No, they were right by the door.
Me: Weird. I don't know. What do they look like?
Her: They look like...THAT!
*pointing at my sandals*
Me: These?
Her: Yes, those.
Me: These aren't mine?
Her: No, they're not.
Me: Well, I kinda liked those neon shoes on you...
*insert chuckle here*

So...after surrending Becca's brown sandals - then I was without matching shoes. I grab a pair that do somewhat match, but I know are going to hurt my feet and figure I'll invest in some brown sandals while we're away.

We spend most of the drive catching up - we're used to seeing each other daily and had some updating to do. We arrive in Bangor, check into our hotel and head to the hotels restaurant to grab some wings before the show. We are walking down to the waterfront, where the concert will take place and already my shoes are killing my feet - which I knew was going to happen, but I had to match. Damn that Becca for taking "my" sandals. I should have just worn the black ones, I thought.

We grab some merch - and of course, I decide to purchase the HOLY WREKCING BALL shirt, due to my unfortunate misunderstanding of the e-card. We're right at the helm of the crowd and after they open the gate, we find the prime location - smack dab in the middle, where we know Eric will be singing directly to us. We had a great spot - we thought...

The opening act had enjoyable music - but I wasn't so sure they were not possessed by the devil prior to the concert. So, I just listened and tried not to make direct eye contact, as I was a bit worried about the repercussions.

Now, it would not be a trip with the Rice's if we didn't manage to land ourselves right in the middle of pure entertainment - if you can call it that. Throughout the concert I looked out into the swarm of people and everyone was having a great time, a pretty good crowd. Somehow, the craziness just seemed to be a small circle, surrounding us.

First off - to our South East, we have a group of people who are definitely there for a good time. Which is great! They were rowdy...and interesting. A lot of bumping and grinding. I spent most of my night in one of the women's arm pits as she was raising her hands up clapping and jumping around. But at least she was deodorized.

There were a few small tiffs - a little pushing and shoving, some cursing...we had a little visit from Security, trying to work out a disagreement between the young girl beside us and the Bigfoot behind us. As we're just coming down from one excitement, another was always on the horizon...

We're talking casually and next thing we know, to our West - the very sober and quiet lady who had actually said once or twice that she needed some air falls to the ground. Her friend scrambles to collect her. When she stands her up, the lady has come to and said she was okay and chuckles. Oddly, she didn't seem disoriented but as soon as the words leave her lips she's going down again. We help her friend scoop her up and suggest she get her out of the crowd for some air. As we're trying to make our way through the people she goes down again, taking everyone with her. A few of us manage to get everyone back on their feet. But she keeps coming in and out and it was taking us a long time to try to get her to an open area, so I suggest we just carry her and that we did. Thankfully, the crowd wasn't too large at that time and after making the decision to just carry her out, security noticed us quickly and ran over to help. I really wanted to wait and make sure she was okay, but medics were quickly on site and I knew she was in good hands. I also knew if I didn't make my way back to my friends, I may never get there. So I scrambled back into the crowd - but it wasn't easy, people are not kind about letting you back in - but I got there with some persistence.

We're standing and waiting, the stage set up seems to be complete, and has been for a little while. I'm sure they'll come out at a set time, but the crowd around us is becoming impatient. Although, regardless of all the ancy actions - nothing beats the female Steven Tyler look alike, who beings chanting "What the F...What the F...What the F..." Except, she used the whole word.

Oh boy...so much has happened and the show hasn't even begun. My feet are hurtin' so I decide to take a joking jab at Becca about not letting me wear the brown sandals that will match my outfit, and realize all of my friends are looking at my like I'm crazy. Courtney says, "Brown sandals to match your dress, leggings and hat that are black?" I look down. Yup. True story. In my head, my dress had brown in it. But it in fact did not. My feet are throbbing for nothing! It wasn't necessary at all. Leave it to me!

The concert begins and all is well...It was a delightful show. For some reason, even though we had been there for hours, the young girls to our East decided to consistently smoke all of their weed  during the last 30 minutes of the show. So, we enjoyed the remainder of Eric through a thick fog. I sang the one line, of the chorus of the one song I knew, and man didn't I kill that one part!

I had a great time with some great friends, and I'm sure there are many more stories (one in particular I will not share, Meg LOL) but these are the highlights. And for the record, I bought myself some brown sandals before we headed home...just in case I find a brown outfit to wear them with.

Good Girls Never Miss Church...

On The Road Again, Take 2.

Just 2 days later, hardly recovered from our day trip to Fredericton - Becca and I head to Bangor. I know what you're thinking: I'm headed to Bangor to cash in my reward weekend. Aaaannnt - wrong.

I had to cancel the overnight for financial reasons. Then, because the spa we were attending is not open on Sundays, we had to cancel that as well. Instead, I book a pedicure with my local lady (insert shout out to Mermaids Reef Nail Salon). Then, I received the call to come to Fredericton and had to cancel. I like to keep my little puppy dog familiar with her amazing boarder (insert shout out to Whistler Boarding Kennels). However, in the night she dug at what we believed to be a hot spot and opened it up...between her boarder and I, we decided it was not best to send her.

So...we went from over night in Bangor, Spa Day, Tattoos and more...
To...quick trip to Bangor for tattoos - because I was holding onto at least ONE thing from this weekend.

                              

It is the night before, and since I had to cancel my pedicure appointment, my feet are in horrendous condition from not tending them most of the winter. Something needs to be done...I decide I am going to try the Listerine Foot Soak.

Of course, every recipe online is different, so I do my best and combine: 1 cup of Listerine, 1/2 cup water and 1/2 cup vinegar. It says to soak for 10-15 minutes. My feet are BAD, so I soak them for 20+. This may be where we encountered the problem. I remove my feet and they are GREEN. I would have even preferred blue...because this green hue very must reminds one of middle stage gangrene. All of the online tutorials claim that the dead skin will just flake right off. I can't say this was true for me...However, like I pointed out - I have terrible feet. Perhaps this might happen for someone with less of an issue. But I went to the tub and scrubbed on them, trying to remove the green tint and must say, apart from their coloring, they look much improved.

Thankfully, the next morning I applied a sugar scrub and quite literally scraped the green off my feet. Phew! We start off for Bangor and it is downpouring...Ugh.

Becca drove to Fredericton, so I was going to drive us to Bangor. I'm sure she regretted this within the first 15 minutes. I am quite night blind...and by night blind I mean dark and cloudy blind, rain blind and snow blind. Basically if it is not a semi-sunny day, I can't see. If it is TOO sunny I also cannot see, as I have sensitive eyes and they water ridiculously. Thankfully, I have learned how to cope and am rather good at navigating blindly.

                      

For the first hour and a half, we are just that, navigating AND hydroplaning blindly. But we haven't hit anything yet, so I assume we are still on track. Thankfully, the last hour of the drive was the perfect happy medium Brittany driving conditions, and we arrive to the tattoo shop (yet another shout out, to both Diversified Ink as well as my tattoo artist Siobhan Alexander.)

First things first..."Can we see your ID?"

Why of course you can, then I realize my passport is back in the parking lot, locked in the car. I decide to run out and get it. Why? Because I can't display my driver's license in public. It.is.awful.

Let me explain to you how awful it is...I have avoided any human contact with my driver's license to inthe very best of my ability. Normally, something like this does not bother me at all - this should indicate just how terrible it is. Becca had yet to see said license, until merely 2 days ago.

On our way home from Fredericton, my license comes up (can't quite recall how) and I make it very clear she is not to see it. She bugs and bugs, so I finally give it - it's just one person. I slowly pull it out of my wallet and hand it over.

Dead silence...

She's speechless...?

Nope, I look over...her head is tilted back, her mouth wide open...She is laughing beyond hysterics. It is one of those - I'm laughing so hard, sound is not even coming out my mouth - laughs. Finally, she gasps for air and a roaring, rolling laughter comes bursting out. I know it's true...I can't even help myself, I join in.

Her: OMG!
Me: I know...It's like I'm wearing a fat suit...
Her: And then ate your own leg...
Me: I know!
Her: Why didn't you take a new one?
Me: I did! I took like, 4!
Her: And this was the best one?
Me: They were all like this, I decided that must be what I look like.
Her: OMG, no...But you should never wear this scarf again.

We.are.losing.it. Neither of us can compose ourselves. Flash ahead 2 days...

Me: I need to go back and get my passprt.
Her: Just use your driver's license.
Me: I can't let anyone see that!
Her: They're not going to use it for anything, they're just going to check it.
Me: Ok, fine...

I hesitantly hand over my license...a moment goes by...the lovely lady behind the counter hands me back a form...WITH MY DRIVER'S LICENSE PHOTO COPIED AT THE TOP. This has never happened to me before. My photo is now officially out there. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts....

In a matter of minutes, I was laid out on a massage table being inked and only randomly recalling the dreaded driver's license. I introduce to you, the result of my Diversified visit:

In honor of my Rice family - a little lobster, representing the family business, which my grandparents worked their asses off to create, and where each of their children, grandchildren and now great-grandchildren have worked, learned and had the pleasure of growing up.

A wave featuring Maya Angelou's Still I Rise - Here's to overcoming obstacles!

The weekend did not go as planned but it ended rather well. We of course grubbed up before we headed home. We were so excited to be in a city and have a variety of options that we couldn't decide where to go. Following supper, even though I was full, I just had to stop to Cold Stone Creamery before we left Bangor. Thankfully, there was no time for anything else - we had to get back home, because it is likely I would have roamed around Bangor hitting up food joints all day.

Naturally, Wednesday rolls around and I gained 1 lb, saying good-bye to my 30 lb. loss. I must say, it was well worth it! I laughed it off. Sometimes you have to relax for a weekend and indulge a little. The real test of commitment is getting back on track afterwards, and that is what I am working on this weekend.

On The Road Again, Take 1.

The long weekend was just around the corner - it was so close, I could feel it! The fun, the sun, the relaxation, the time to myself, the...all kinds of things I probably will not - in fact, get to do or receive...

What I did receive was a very last minute phone call to see my orthopedic surgeon. As much as I did not want to go to Fredericton, it was pay day and actually a good day to take off work. It could not have worked out any better - Yay.

I have spent very little time in Fredericton in the last decade. I went with Becca to the Kia Dealership once (and no further) and have made a few trips past Fredericton, to Oromocto. But, in terms of being in the depths of NB's lovely capital - that would have taken place in 2004, I believe.

I'm a pretty independent lady. I've traveled all over, moved to towns and cities I never even visited first, and managed to get myself around just fine. I wasn't too concerned about this trip, but I also had no idea what was going to happen at this appointment. Luckily, Becca needed to also go to Fredericton and was able to reschedule her own appointment to accompany me. I had done the same for her not too long ago - except in the wonderful city of Saint John - so there wasn't too much shame involved...and now we're even. Independent ladies, unite!

The appointment is soon over, and we're venturing back to the Parking Garage. We back up and Miss-Must-Be-In-Control...uh, that would be me. If you actually know Becca or I in real life, I'm sure you did not need any clarification. Anyways, Miss-Must-Be-In-Control provided some quite confident directions as to how to exit said parking garage. We're rolling along and - Car!!!! This car was - in my defense, going WAY too fast. However, in their defense...we were going the wrong way.

Me: We're going the wrong way!!
Her: I know.
Me: Why didn't you say something?
Her: Oh...I don't know.
Me: What, really?
Her: Yea.
Me: Seriously?
Her: Going the wrong way was less risky for me personally, than pointing out that you were wrong.
Me: So, you purposefully headed into ongoing traffic opposed to telling me I was wrong?
Her: Yup.

In her defense, she may have been right, or close to it.

Some things really are just like riding a bike - the lovely city came back to me just like that. We found all our desired locations. As we went about our day, I was recalling a variety of streets, directions, places, etc. Becca also kindly introduced me to some new roads and ways of getting about...
Her: This is the way I took the last time Grammy and I went to my dealer...
Me: Huh?
Her: Dealer...as in dealership...as in Kia...
Me: Oh.

We hit up Relish (so good, but also so not good for me) and venture on. Becca takes me to this AMAZING used book store.

If you live in the Fredericton area, visit the Fredericton area of even know where the Fredericton area is The Owl's Nest Book Store is a must. It is a never ending used book store. I was in my glory...Shelf after shelf, room after room, witty category after witty category - complete with a rolling ladder. You could even swing from the ladder and sing like Belle, while you select your books.

This was something I really wanted to do, but it was turned down by my partner in crime. Since she introduced me to this magical place, I obeyed her wishes. I will save this adventure for my next visit. As I sadly checked out of the store, I decided on one final request - to spend my next life as the stores chubby, grey cat - Pepper, enjoying all of my days snuggled up on the Children's Section couch.

Dreams come true here, I'm sure of it.

  


Now, it might have been pay day, but Winter Recovery 2015 is in full effect and funds are limited. However, I have a few events coming up in the next couple of months and it would be nice to have an outfit that fits me correctly. I decide I'm going to peak at some sales racks. 

Shopping and I have a love/hate relationship. I love fashion, I love purchasing things. But, I hate buying clothes for myself. It is typically a horrible and depressing experience. I am down 30 lbs. So, naturally - I'm thinking it is going to be exciting to go shopping.

Oh Dear Lord, no...I start off by quite proudly selecting a smaller size. Yea...this was not a good idea. I apparently was feeling realllly confident - because I also selected sleeveless items to show off my sagging arm fat and short garments for my never ending torso. So, you get the picture here, right? Whatever amazing shopping experience I dreamed up - was just that...a dream! I came down off my high horse pretty quick.

I put on the first shirt.
Me: What do you think?
Her: Mmmm - no...
Me: Really?
Her: Really...
Me: Huh...okay. *insert shoulder shrug*

Next shirt...
Me: What about this one?
Her: Mmmm - no...
Me: REALLY?
Her: Really.
Me: REALLY?!?
Her: Really...

Frig sake.
As I'm putting on another item I hear one of the attendant's come in...
A: Can I help you with something?
Her: No, I'm just here for moral support.
Me: *shouting from the changing room* And she sucks at it!!
Her: You always say you wish I would speak up and be honest.
Me: Yea well, I'm really sick of you being right today.

I leave the room, sift through the sales rack again. Now that I've returned to reality, I realize that there is nothing there for me. We head to another store, then another store, then another store.

I can't even believe this!...I really anticipated a more positive shopping excursion. As we leave the current store, I vow that I'm only visiting one final store. We have already spent far more time than I had planned on this endeavour.

We enter. We look. I can't find the dreaded plus size section...Fine, I think. I'll ask. A lady comes near that thankfully is NOT a size 4, 8 or even a 10. Phew. I am feeling comfortable asking for directions. Certainly no fault of this poor lady - but the plus size section is a bit on the wee side for a department store and she informs me that plus size dresses are "just mixed in". At first, I'm like...Hell yea!! I check the tag on every.single.dress. I found ONE plus size dress...out of probably 200 dresses.

The ambition is so far gone, I can't even see it running away from me. I drag myself to the fitting room, and it goes a little something like this:
Ugh.
If I had to, I suppose...
Gag. (The one dress I searched hopelessly for - is a mumu. A very not flattering mumu).
I'm over it.

Becca swoops in and encourages me to finish up what I brought in. This is the only reason she was forgiven for all of her previous wise cracks. I slide on the next shirt and...finally! Something decent. It looks nice. I felt good wearing it. Let's get outta here!

I was feeling pretty defeated. I have changed my entire life, and I anticipated a mediocre experience, at the very least. I still hate shopping for my own clothes, how disappointing! But, I found a shirt. As hard as it is to not dwell on the fact that I tried on several items and only found one (even though I only needed one) and spent twice the amount of time doing so - I found something, one something - when I could have found nothing at all.

That shirt couldn't have come at a better time. My feet and thighs were screaming. I painfully return to the car, swearing to myself for wearing a maxi skirt for easy access (to my knee, people!) and not realizing I was going to be shopping for one item for hours. I put in 9000 steps in that skirt and the chub rub was on fire! My thighs were so happy when it was time to settle in for the drive home. Oh, and the feet - which I didn't complain about at the time, because I was trying to get away with the fact that I wore Becca's shoes.

It was certainly an interesting day - I wouldn't expect any less. When I made it home, I snuggled up and tried to only think about my new shirt, my new books and looking forward to my long weekend... I also decided being cremated is my last hope for a smoking hot body.

The Happy Adrenal Apple

Lately, some of my "good clothes" are making me appear...well, not good. Let's just say that much. Some of them are getting baggy. I was actually carrying an armload of stuff into the house last week and just as I finally reached the counter to unload, my pants fell to my ankles. It was a good thing I was alone! By the time Summer really hits, I will need to purchase a few staples for my wardrobe. If I'm going to work this hard to lose the weight, I'd like to look the part.

While considering what I have and what I will need - I decided I'm going to try to not cover my body with layers and layers of black anymore. I feel good, so let's look good. But, I have an odd body. My family would call this the candy apple look. Yup, I am apple shaped. This is supposed to be the hardest weight to get rid of, as well - awesome! All the luck...

 

While searching through a variety of blogs on how to dress this difficult shape of mine - I discovered a few Fancy Nancys who are also candy apples - such as Oprah, Dolly Parton, Catherine Zeta Jones, Kate Winslet AND...get this - Angelina Jolie! These are some pretty great people - must be the apple. Angelina is my favourite apple shaped celebrity. She might even be one of my favourite all time celebrities. Her style is simple and natural. Her influences are not limited to fashion and entertainment either. She is quite passionate about her involvements as a feminist and a humanitarian. A pretty well balanced celeb, I must say...and probably hard to come by. NOW we have something in common (probably the only thing). You should just start calling me, Angelina!

Angelina might be a few pounds lighter, so even though she is a candy apple as well - it is unlikely we will be wearing similar garments. It is also unlikely we suffer the same struggles. There are things I find difficult to do- not just because of the extra weight in general, but because of this specific shape. I like to call this struggle - the bowl.

This bowl gets in the way..a lot. It's terribly annoying. Whether I'm trying to tie my shoes or I'm trying to dig something out from the back of the cupboard - this bowl keeps me from bending and moving the way I need to. I have bowl belly..and by bowl belly, I don't mean those cute little belly castings people make when they're pregnant and turn into decorative pieces. No sir...I mean, it is literally like someone duct taped a bowl to my torso.

I have actually suggested to Becca that she try this, when she wonders why I have asked for her help digging a pan out of the back of the cupboard. I realllly wanted to duct tape a bowl to her torso - she wasn't into it. I can't imagine why though?! I think someone should try it - just to see what it's like to have this barrier smack dab in the middle of your body and try completing everyday tasks. Apparently it is not going to be Becca, though.

It's really a sin...But, she has survived so far and she hasn't moved out yet. I do get a lot of Ohhh deah's and head shakes. But she's still around...even after conversations like:
Me: Oh man, there's something wrong with my arm.
Her: Like what?
Me: I don't know. There's like a lump, and it's sore.
*she comes to investigate*
Her: Ohhhh deah.
Me: What?
Her: That would be called a bicep. *insert head shake here*
Me: Oh.
Her: Yeeeaaaa.....
Me: Never had one of those before, I guess.

This conversation should actually be the least of her worries - I've talked about things this week that I never talk about: poop, periods, belly fat...Oh yes, I think it has all been covered! Interestingly enough, I learned even more regarding this bowl of mine. I knew there were different shapes, but I did not know that there are different kind of bellies.

This discovery resulted in losing hours of my life I will never get back. Most sites refer to 4 main types. I narrowed it down to two - adrenal and thyroid. I think there is a little bit of both, but settled on adrenal after reviewing the information below, I found at Beauty Tips 4 Her.

While sifting through the information and reading things like...
"poor sleeping habits"
"brain fog"
"poor memory"
"edgy" and "irritable"...
I was thinking "DING! DING! DING! We have a winner!" Unfortunately, the only tips they gave for how to improve my situation was to reduce stress, increase sleep and eat consistently throughout the day instead of binging in the evenings. I have mastered that last tip - but unfortunately for me, there is very little I can do about one and two.

Regardless, I'm happy to say that I found some success on the scale this week - I'm down 2lbs and finally happy to see a budge. I don't think I'm going to reach my goal on time (after this 3 week lull) but I'm just happy to see a change on that scale again. I might be an adrenal apple, but I'm a happy one!

My Beast is A Badass

A teacher friend of mine shared a quote that has helped me find my inspiration this week...

It's true. Life is hard, and you need to push yourself a little. For most, there is no coasting through. There is especially no coasting if you genuinely want to accomplish anything. This has been an adventure so far, and hopefully will continue to be - and it certainly has been difficult at times.

Growing up, my mother had this magnet on the fridge, that was in the shape of a pig and stated "I ate my will power." Back then, I probably did not fully comprehend this joke, because I didn't find it funny or fridge worthy. However, just the other day I was crackin' will power jokes and remembered this not-so-worthy magnet. Suddenly, I understood the humour. I have absolutely no will power. It is quite possible that I did indeed eat it during one of my binges.

I have no idea how someone can have so much ambition and work ethic in certain areas and be lacking so much in will power when it comes to eating right and working out. But that is me, in a nut shell. If it is in the house, I am going to eat it - probably ALL of it. Make myself work out? Ha! I think I am missing a will power gene. I think I replaced the will power gene with an excuse fabrication gene.

So let's see...lack of will power, amazing ability to develop excuses...I can pretty much envision how I got here. But, I think I see changes on the horizon!

Me: I have this little headache I can't get rid of.
Her: Huh, wonder why.
Me: Probably from coughing all day long.
Her: Probably.
Me: Weird I just have this cough I can't get rid of.
Her: It has been a few weeks.
Me: I know....
Her: Ebola, maybe? Are your eyeballs bleeding?
Me: Not that I recall...I'm seeing pretty clearly.

This is what I deal with! On a serious note, I have had this great excuse for a couple of weeks, now. No...not Ebola - I have a cough. Yes, a cough. Normally, I'd tell myself, "You should really rest"..."You must be fighting something off"..."You don't want it to get worse." While this is all somewhat true, normally I would take that to mean I need to lay in bed for days and binge watch Netflix. I tend to take things to the extreme, remember?...But, not this time!

Do any of these statements sound familiar? "I will never get up early and work out, so I'm not going to claim to do that"..."I'm going to be honest and realistic so these changes can be long term." Probably - because I think I've mentioned them every blog! I know you're all nodding like the SNL Roxbury skit. Again, there is truth to these statements but that does not mean I need to be so extreme about it.

I'm all about keeping it real - know your strengths, know your weaknesses - work with them. For instance, I accept that it is likely I will never have a thigh gap. I have a better chance of my legs molding together and transforming into a mermaid tale. I'm just keepin' it real! I THOUGHT I was keeping it real when I claimed I could not do morning work outs. However, I have some new advice: Try anything once. Because I have seen the light!

It only took that one morning for me to fall in love with my morning work out. Now, each morning I am rearing and ready to go...and when it's not fit to go, I'm totally ticked off! I know it would not be very wise for me to head out while the snow plows are running - ending ass over tea kettle in a snow bank will not help my cause. When Tuesday morning rolled around - I'm so excited and ready for it, I was tossing and turning in my bed, watching the clock. The alarm finally goes off at 5:45am, I roll out of bed, pull on my clothes, lace up my sneakers and I'm off. Just me and the road.

I can't even look at weather reports at this point..not because I'm sick of snow, or worried about snow, but because I will be terribly irritated if I think I can't hit the road in the morning. When I'm out there, when I'm going - I'm a different person. I'm confident. I'm able. I push myself. I don't give up or give in. I run until I feel like I can't breath, then I walk until I can, run until I can't breath, walk until I can...and you get the picture. I don't feel like I'm on display. Each day I go a little further and a little further. I don't let anything stop me - I think this is what they refer to as "beast mode".

Back when I was a Pinterester - and not a doer (now I'm both) I would read t-shirts, ads, slogans, quotes, etc. referring to "beast mode". Quite frankly, I hated the term. I certainly did not want to think of myself as a beast while I was working out. Since I'm 5'8, pretty round with a giant head, I already feel like an ogre 90% of the time - I certainly did not want to refer to myself as a beast.

However, I have embraced the term!...and my beast is a badass! It only took me that one morning to get hooked. Not only did I find my beast, but I actually LIKE my beast...oh, and did I mention she's a badass? And this badass beast lost 3.2lbs this week and finally crossed the 20lb. loss finish line!

With 162 days left to go, I have embraced my inner beast. So, even if you're POSITIVE you will not like it (as I was) just try it once to be sure. You may be surprised - you may even find your inner beast.

Like a boss...

Last Wednesday, at our Girl Guide meeting we worked towards the Key to I Can Badge. We painted aprons, worked on a Unit Cookbook and we also read Enemy Pie. We finished up by making our own our own "Enemy Pie" which we decided should really be called "Friendship Pie".

Naturally...there were leftovers! Eeek! Thankfully, it was weigh-in day, which helped fight the temptation to dabble in the goodies. However, Treat Thursday was just around the corner. I am an expert at developing "rationale" for anything I want. "I'll take excuses for 300, Alex..."

Therefore, I used the remaining items to create a parfait - layer of graham cracker crumbs, pudding middle, little more graham cracker crumbs, whip cream, caramel drizzle and cookie crumble topping. This is not something I would have ever put in my mouth before. I hate pie. I hate pudding.

Yet, I drooled over this dessert and then shoveled it aboard me...like a BOSS!

It's so funny that once you cut a few things out, absolutely anything is good. It reminded of my Boston trip train bagel - best damn bagel EVAH! I mean - who doesn't love a bagel that has been sealed in a plastic bag for god knows how long, toasted in who knows what kind of compact technology on this mini diner cart using a reusable, who knows what has been on there tinfoil tray. Yummers! But I'm tellin' ya...best bagel EVAH. I put that thing away - you guessed it - like a BOSS.

I also completed the Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred video...Mmhmmm...like a BOSS!

Confession: I have had this video for awhile. I have tried it here and there, and never been able to finish it. I get frustrated with not being able to complete the exercises properly or accurately, and use this as an excuse to quit. For some reason, I never had the will power to continue and ultimately finish the work out. If I didn't have another single success this week, I would still be happy to only announce that I finished this work out!

But, it did not start off so promising. Becca popped that video in and I will be honest - I was lying on the couch protesting.

But, she got my ass up and going. A few minutes in, Becca and I are moving and grooving - I'm starting to feel it, I'm getting pumped up...
Me: This isn't so bad!
Her: Uh..this is only the warm up.
Me: Oh.

Things improved, though. I really was enjoying how the video was set up:
cardio-strength-abs-repeat.

And then...
Jillian: Are you feeling it? I'm feeling it!
Me: Are you kidding, Jillian? I've done more of these exercises than you have...you keep wandering off to talk to your friends!

Come on lady, get with it! I wanna see you do it, if you're going to be telling me I can do it! She continues to provide "reassurance" that it's only 20 minutes.

Bullpucky!
We hit the 15 minute mark...Woohoo! Light at the end of the tunnel.
20 minutes...we're still going?! WTF, Jillian!
23 minutes...Forget you Jillian, you said this work out was 20 minutes!
25 minutes...Hallelujah! I survived.

We're finished. Ya know, Jillian...you should really add that the warm up is not included in that 20 minute time frame.

But...I did it. I finally finished this video, and somewhat successfully I might add. I did follow the modified version. For some exercises that included putting pressure on my knees, I used my exercise ball. At times, I even modified the modification. But I did it, and I will do it again, and again, and again. Until I don't have to modify the modification. Until I don't have to modify at all! Gotta start somewhere, right?

I also managed to have a decent weigh-in this week. I had another commitment on Wednesday as well as a snow day. Thinking I would not be weighing in, I had a nice big breakfast, a big lunch - and then my meeting was canceled! Oh dear. Naturally, I said "I'll skip, I'm not prepared." But Becca reminded me of my own advice: FAM. I just had to face it, accept it and move on.

So I went to weigh-in, fairly certain I would gain and managed to lose 1.2 - even with my excessive eating that day.

I am officially down 15.6lbs. Now I am working towards my 20lb. loss (within 2 weigh-ins, on March 11/15). Small goals work well for me - start somewhere, right? Modify the modification if you have to - but set yourself up for success.

Will Run for Chips!!

These snow storms are really killing my groove!! First of all, snow days keep falling on cardio days and this is really putting a cramp in my exercise plan.

I hate cardio.

I will do ANY strength exercise (maybe not well...but I'll do it). I don't have to argue with myself to do strength - ever. I have kettle bells, weights, resistance bands and really enjoy using them. But I can find any reason to avoid cardio...and these snow storms are not helping!

Overall, for some reason, I find it much easier to stick to my exercise schedule when I'm full force. Meaning - when I get up, go to work and do my regular routine. However, when my day is thrown off, my plan falls apart. Which leads me back to snow days.

Over time, snow days have become a day of nothing. Snow day = Netflix, snacking and being sacked out on my couch. That can't be the case anymore, but I'm struggling to get out of the snow day rut I've created.

When I have a snow day, I find it very difficult to get my butt up and do something. You would think, with typically having such a busy schedule, I would appreciate a few snow days to have some extra time to exercise. Nope...not the case at all. Maybe I just love the chaos, I'm not sure - but it's much easier for me to stick to my exercise plan on a jam packed day. Once I'm up and going, I'm good. I find this to be very strange...yet typical for me lol. I'm a bit of an odd duck this way.

I have 2 things working against me here - my dislike for cardio, and my snow day habits.

Clearly, since it is only the beginning of February, there will continue to be snow. If we are going to continue to be slammed with snow, I need some motivation to follow through with my schedule even if I have nothing else to do. Now, you would think that having this time on my hands, the need to lose weight and desire to be successful would be enough..Yea well, it's not.

So...I'm sitting, I'm thinking, I'm pinning, I'm etsying. I'm looking at clothes...jewelry...I'm scheming. I think - for every cardio I do, I'll put $1 in a jar and then buy something on one of my wish lists when I get the money. Nothing - didn't do it for me. I think of another idea, and another...It's just not doing the trick. I'm desperately trying to find something I want, a promise I can make to myself -  and all I can think about are...chips.

I don't want clothes, I don't want jewelry, I want chips, damnit! All of a sudden, I think - I'll run for chips!!! As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I thought - wtf? Three weeks in...seriously? I said I wasn't going to deprive myself, I would allow myself little treats here and there - be realistic about it. However, I haven't craved a single thing until this very moment. I'm just stormed in, I'm idle and therefore I think I need to eat.

Well then, Miss Rice - if you're so bored, get off your ass and work out! You will run, damnit...and you will NOT run for chips. You will run for YOU!

And so I did...I got up and found the Walk, Run, Burn exercise from Prevention magazine and I think to myself - I'm going to do it. I'm pumped up, I'm ready to go...I head to the treadmill.

Becca asks me what I'm doing, and the conversation then goes a little something like this...
Me: Getting on the treadmill.
Her: Oh yea, what is that?
Me: An exercise I'm going to try.
Her: On the treadmill?
Me: Yup.
Her: What it is?
Me: Walk, Run, Burn.
Her: Cool, can I see?
Me: Sure.
*moment of silence*
Her: Uhm...you can't do this on the treadmill...
Me: Why not?
Her: Did you actually look at it?
Me: Yup.
Her: So you're going to do the Frankenstein walk and back pedal on the treadmill?
Me: Yup.
*moment of silence*
Me: What?
Her: You're going to kill yourself.
Me: Nah.
Her: Yup, you're going to kill yourself. Everyone say your good-byes (talking to the dogs).
Me: No, no...It's all good.
Her: Nope, you're going to kill yourself.

I take my piece of paper and head to the treadmill. Just as I start up the ole beast, I hear...

Her: Maybe you should wear that little thing that clips to your pants!

The track starts up and I'm off...After about 20 minutes, I wanted to quit. I kept talking myself into it, telling myself all the reasons why it was okay. "It's your first time doing it"..."You need to build up"...I'm my own worst enemy sometimes. It really is mind over matter, because I kept going and finished all 33 minutes of the exercise. I did skip over the 30 seconds of cross overs and 30 seconds of shuffling, since I really might have killed myself trying to do that on the treadmill - but I ran it out in those sections instead, so it was all good.

I survived! In more ways than one. I felt so good. I had supper and finished up my night with a kettle bell exercise. It was worth kicking my own ass (and risk killing myself). If you're stuck in a snow day rut - it really is mind over matter - kick your own ass!

You’ve got what it takes but it will take everything you’ve got.

Thirty and...a country fan???

Probably not (even after a fabulous Garth concert). Any of you who know me, know I am NOT a country fan. I do of course know some country - very classic country such as Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, etc. I am not a fan of the new country - the pop country. However, I do know Garth. I would include him in my classic country category.

Both my cousin, Courtney and my roommate, Becca - my best friends, are huge Garth Brooks fans. Therefore, when he announced that he was doing a World Tour - it was all that was discussed during our visits. It's a wonder they did not crash his website with their frequent tour date check-ins. When he finally and thankfully announced a concert in Boston - it was on! They were all over it, and dragging me along for the ride.

I am always down for a concert, and a trip - and I think both were pleasantly surprised with my knowledge of Garth. I probably know more of his songs than any other country artist - besides Shania. I am not actually a fan of Shania, but when I got my first cd player in elementary school, I of course needed a cd to play in it. My mother fished me out a cd or two from the Walmart $5 bin. Since I really just wanted to use my cd player - I played that $5 cd endlessly. I listened to Shania's self titled 1993 cd, for days! I still know every word!

Saturday arrives, we take off in the morning, as there is a storm on its way - with two huge Garth fans and my happy pills. We finally encounter the storm somewhere between Bangor and Portland. Our trusty driver Courtney trudges along, while I DJ. I'm sure Becca spent this portion of the drive rolling her eyes and wondering how on earth she ended up here, while we sang our hearts out to Roxette, Pat Benatar, Bob Segar and the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing. 

We head slow and steady into the storm... all of the traffic is moving along together in the slow lane. Along comes an 18 wheeler - with the need to pass us all. As he is speeding alongside us - he must lose vision or control or both, because he swerves into our lane - and the water and slush come blasting at us - Courtney cranks the wind shield wipers but we have zero visibility. We are pretty sure we're under this trucks tire - hence the water wave, and the feeling that we're travelling through a car wash. Courtney holds steady and eventually the truck driver regains control - or sanity, not sure which and slides back into his lane. The singing has stopped. I pat Courtney on the shoulder for her superb driving skills, but I'm pretty sure she's still in shock. It takes a minute for us all to come around and continue our dance party. In the moment of terror, not to mention zero visibility - we didn't retrieve the "How's My Driving" number - but if we had - it would not have been a pleasant review!   

Prior to the near death experience, and the worst of the weather -
when it was still fun and games - and apparently fun to take pictures LOL

Slightly recovered from our near death experience, we arrive in Portland. The storm is raging, so we decide to stay put and eat at the hotel restaurant. BTW - if anyone is travelling to Portland and taking the train, The Clarion is the place to stay. It is located just around the corner from the train station, has reasonable rates and nice rooms. They even have air mattresses - in case 2 members of your party might be Typhoid Mary (Courtney and I), leaving the last member not too eager to share a bed with either of us. 

The big day arrives and we're all up before the crack of dawn (who knew a one hour time difference would throw you off). Courtney and I were stirring before 4am, Becca shortly behind. We arrive at the station by 7:30am, ready to go. The train comes along - and we settle into some seats.

Now, if you know me (or Courty, or Becca) then another thing you know about me is that I have a comfort zone and prefer to be in it, and you to be out of it. However, that was not an option on this trip! I have a bum knee and broke my tailbone last year - I am too old to be cramped up in a compact area, regardless of my preference on personal space. Therefore, the train ride looked a little something like this...

Another interesting factor of our train ride - sitting beside the dysfunctional divorced couple...who argued about everything that each other said the entire 3 hours. Needless to say, I felt very normal that day. 

Finally...arrival in Boston! We check into the Holiday Inn Express (yet another fabulous hotel recommendation). It was across the road from the train station and TD Garden. Even though we could not technically check in until 3pm and arrived around 11am - they stored our luggage for us, told us they would get our room ready asap and we could check in early. The view, however, leaves much to be desired. 

We decided to walk down to Quincy Market and do some browsing, souvenir shopping, etc. I loved all the old roads and pathways! It's beautiful. I also love markets. I was in my element.

The time arrived for us to think about eating. The first 4-5 restaurants we came across, had a full seafood only menu - not really the best option if you're allergic to shellfish, like me. "Lergic!" became my phrase of the weekend. As soon as we approached a restaurant and my eyes fell upon their fish and anchor decorated menu, I'd raise my finger into the air and announce "Lergic!". We eventually made our way to the Hard Rock Cafe and had a lovely meal. I tried my best to pick a nice option - which STILL landed me a whoppin' 1,147 calories on top of the bagel and cream cheese I had on the train. It was a good thing it was going to be my only real meal of the day. And, I confess...I had a Pepsi! However - I was on a trip and I decided I would try to be cautious but not crazy, and live a little. 

We ventured back to the hotel to get ready...

...and then we headed out for some cocktails before the concert. Crazy Courty wore her black high heels on the slick and treacherous Boston streets! I could barely keep upright in my boots! 

We had some fabulous nachos (waaaaay over my calories at this point, I'm sure) and magaritas/martinis at Boston Beer Works (another recommendation). This was probably one of the many prime moments that Becca decided we should NOT return to our homes, our jobs, our lives and just chase Garth on tour, drinking margaritas and singing our hearts out lol. 

It's finally time for the gates to open...Courtney and Becca have remained relatively calm, and I am shocked that I haven't had to reel them in. We venture over to TD Garden, we wait for the gates to open...everyone is still in a very serene state...I'm a little WTF. 

We file in with the crowd...Courtney and Becca: still serene. Brittany: still WTF. 

We go past security - no status change. I finally ask what the beeeep is going on. 

No tickets. We haven't received our tickets yet...they're both in panic that there is a problem. They keep pushing us along, telling us we're ok. It is now that I realize, their serene state is actually a state of panic. I'm really WTF at this point - if there is an issue and we don't have tickets, what am I going to do with these two? I will just have to walk away, go back to hotel, let everything run its course and bail them from Boston jail in the morning. 

We approach the final leg...the man asks us for our tickets. Courtney tells him we ordered them online, he kindly asks us for the credit card used to order them, scans it with his little machine hooked to his belt and out pops our 3 tickets! 

This is the exact moment the craziness sets in....I have two happy fan....atics! 

We find our AMAZING seats - thanks to Becca's inability to accept the first 20 shitty seats they tried to offer her....and wait. This was extremely painful for both of them. At one point, Courtney even threatens that if I don't know the words and can't sing along, I'll have to move!! Thankfully, I knew more Garth than she anticipated. 

Courtney was so excited, she broke the face out of her watch! 

The show finally begins...I have two people in complete awe! 

There he is, folks! 

20 years and a few pounds hasn't slowed him down! 

The Garth High - Thing 1

The Garth High - Thing 2.

It sadly comes to an end...3 hours of Classic Garth! 

I must say it was a fabulous concert, I did a lot of singing, hooting, hollering and dancing - country fan or not! We returned home safely, lucky enough to get ahead of the storm of the decade. Extra lucky to have a snow day today, and an opportunity to rest up and begin planning our life of chasing Garth on tour, drinking margaritas and singing until our vocal chords clamp up. 

Miss Rice might have a little cowgirl in her, after all ;)