Cutting Back

Cutting back

 

 

I had to go to the doctor yesterday just for a routine check up and he informed me that it was that magic time of my life when I needed to get a physical. Yeah, I don’t see that happening any time soon.  Anyway, at the end of the appointment he said those six little words that I have never heard from a doctor before, “You need to lose 20 lbs”……………how could he tell? I had on my “hide-a-fat” clothes the whole time and he never grabbed my love handles….oh yeah, the scales…those darn scales! He went on to add, “Do you remember where you were 10-15 years ago?  You were 35lbs lighter. Let’s start with 20lbs.”  I felt  horrified and insulted...I was horrisulted.

 

I couldn’t believe it. It seems that pretending I am in shape while overeating isn’t doing the trick. So last night, while watching TV,  I was thinking about all this and what I was going to have to do . I heard the timer go off in the kitchen so I sat down my bowl of chocolate peanut butter ice cream (with an extra spoonful of peanut butter for flavor) and went into the kitchen to check on my blackberry/blueberry/raspberry cobbler (it needed ten more minutes) and gave my crockzilla full of cabbage/bean/Italian sausage soup a stir and then went back into the den, sat back down and picked up my bowl of ice cream. I thought about it all and realized that it was time, time to make a change. I consider myself to be health conscious and it was time to make a difficult yet important decision about cutting unnecessary things out of my life. It was time to find a new doctor…Bon appétit !

 

Dear People: Getting the boot, getting the pill

Dear Personal Trainer Guy (who is not on my payroll),

Thank you for pointing out to me…and your client…and everyone else standing around that my brand new, favorite exercise that I do at least twice a week is called the “fat man’s pull-up”…nice. A little side note here, I didn’t ask you what it was called. You came up and asked if you and your client could work in with me while I was doing the FMPU. Your client got a kick out of it, grrrr, you almost got a kick out of it, right in the seat of your high tech, water wicking sweat pants.

Now I am perrynoid. What else am I doing? My workouts are pretty much a morphed version of some kind of exercise that are a cross between what I CAN do and what I am WILLING to do. My fear is that there are names for my other marxercises. Am I doing the “lazy leg press”, “chubby chest press”, “girlie glutes”, “crack head crunches” , “the pansy pushup”…the list goes on and on in my head. I may just have to make up my own names and announce them while I am doing them. I can hear me know, “Wow, this Def Con Dip I am doing it going to hurt tomorrow, especially after that set of Power Ranger Pull-ups.” Wait a minute…I think Power Ranger Pull-ups are a brand of training diapers for little boys….never mind…that’s not so impressive. Hmmm, I may end up doing more harm than good. Maybe I might just recommend to “said trainer” that such negative names for exercises are not the best choice for him to use in his chosen profession, especially since he works with a lot of overweight people. I also need to start stretching so that I can get my foot up higher just in case I might need to kick “said trainer” in the seat of his high tech pants.

Dear Yaz Telemarketer,

No, I have not been using Yaz, the female birth control pill. Thanks for calling me for the second time and letting me know about the harmful side effects of this pill designed for young girls 14 and up ( but not recommended for anyone over the age of 35), that treats acne and also allows them to sleep around responsibly. But no, I have different plumbing and have no use for this product and do not need to be part of the pending class action lawsuit. On the other hand, if I do start to notice headaches, swelling, dizziness, blood clots, chest pain or if I have a heart attack or a stroke, I will keep your number and have someone call for me. I could have been drugged and not known it; you never know. Is that how you got my name and cell phone number? Really…how did you get my name and number? Did someone turn me in? Has someone Yaz-roofied me and then confessed? Should I be perrynoid? I’ll bet it was someone at the gym. Somebody saw me doing my 10lb dumb bell curls and my overhead press that looks more like a cheerleader move and slipped me a Yaz-roofie in my strawberry flavored water (darn you Dasani and your delicious fruity flavored water)….I never tasted a thing…except strawberry. This explains everything. My inability to gain muscle, my 14 year old girl arms….it’s all coming together now. While I have been at the gym surrounded my juicing, testosterone reeking gym rat comrades, I have been “unjuicing” with and strawberry flavored estrogen cocktail. OMG…I’ve been Yazzercising!

Hmmmm, maybe I should CSI this and come to the conclusion that this is all that trainer’s fault…that’s got to be it. I’m going to start stretching today. I’ve got some very high, seemingly rock hard glutes to kick; I may need some boots. If any of you see me walk in to the gym in the near future wearing combat boots, you will know what is about to go down.

The Evolution of Art

A new scientific breakthrough has happened and it has left  the art world spinning. The Sistine Chapel has long been cursed with water and dampness issues. Parts were rebuilt and redesigned early on, as water runoff became a big problem in this structure. Mold was also a problem that they had to deal with, in what is one of the most beautiful interior buildings in the world. Recently, while looking to clean areas around the artwork on the ceiling, scientists were brought in to figure out some unusual looking areas on the paintings. What they discovered is that what we currently know about those famous paintings may be completely wrong. The discoveries were of several types of mold but there are three that have opened up and whole new Pandora's box in the scientific and art communities.

The first, for reader's sake, we will call the "red mold". You can see here that it is a true red and is considered to be in the "slime mold" family. It loves damp, wet areas.

 

. The next mold we will call the "yellow mold". Yellow mold can also be one of the slime molds. Yellow mold,  like the red mold, also loves places that stay damp and moist.

 

 The third type of mold is the blue mold. The blue mold is called a "mildew mold" and just like the other molds, thrives in damp areas.

 These threes molds were all found in the ceiling and other areas of the Sistine Chapel and were growing on the plaster as well as the stone. So what does all of this mean? Why is this important? This is why: these are the three primary colors. At several points in the investigation , scientists noted an overlap of the molds thus creating every color in the color spectrum. Some areas resembled sunsets while other areas looked like green fields and flowers, much like the works of Monet. Upon further investigation of the ingredients in the plaster, scientists have come to the conclusion that what we have considered for so long to be the  work of artist Michelangelo, is  a lie. One cornerstone of the structure was studied and an embedded fossil was found that dated 500,000 years old. It seems the structure must have been started many years ago by prehistoric man. Wood tested in the beams was found to be over 1,000 years old. It is now believed that the Sistine Chapel may have been the inspiration for Solomon's Temple built about 2,500 years ago. We have no exact date on the building of the Sistine Chapel other than it was built in stages . It seems the written history of this building has been handed down and reinterpreted to fit the story of the church congregation that moved into it. Even though the occurrences post 1470's are probably true, the creation of the building, the real history of who built it and the origins of the art on the ceiling are up for new interpretations.

 

What is important about all of this is that Scientists have been able to conclude that the molds, over hundreds of years, slowly blended and grew and morphed into what we see on the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel. What we have generally thought to be the works of the artist Michelangelo, are simply the creations of mold over hundreds of years. Part of what we see is our brain making sense of it all and "filling in the blanks" of the visual field.

 

Michelangelo was a sculptor and we know did some plaster work there in that old building. We know he was an artist. It is now thought that once he saw the molds he took claim of them as his own paintings. It is a bit staggering to realize that all those beautiful scenes up on the ceiling are merely the accidental mixing of different types of mold, but science has proved it. There are also naturally occurring pigments that have come in through rain, evaporation, heat,pollens, etc. Some theorist believe that Michelangelo may have added some pigments to help brighten or shape some of the pictures that had already been created.

 

The art world is stunned and many are fighting this discovery to the bitter end. Some artists, even educated ones, are refusing to believe what science can prove. Many say that these two dimensional pieces of art are just too complex to be accidental mold configurations. Lobbyist for the scientific community are currently working hard , before it even hits the press, to get the creators of textbooks in our public schools changed. Leaders in the education unions are behind this, claiming we can no longer stand by and give Michelangelo credit for something that just happened by accident. Years from now, after the history books have been rewritten and the younger generations are taught the truth about the Sistine Chapel and the origins of its colorful ceilings, I have a feeling the older generations and some religious factions will still be holding on to what they were taught when they grew up. No amount of scientific evidence or proof will make them budge. I am not sure why they will be like this, but I predict it. Let's face it, you can't argue with science, its findings, or how it is interpreted. It might be a bit hard to believe that those works of art "just happened" but it could happen and it did happen. They are just colors on plaster.

 

Millions of dollars of funding has been provided from the United States for research to see if possibly these molds do have some level of intelligence which could open up and whole new world of research. This new approach to looking at art could change everything we know about art today. To some, the works on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel will never look the same. For some, those images will bring about even more wonder and amazement and to others they will have lost their appeal because the "art" has gone from being created by a skilled artist to just being patches of mold that were allowed to roam free and collide.

I'm Chipper

I know better than to have any kind of “snacky” food in the house. I obsess over it like it is something that needs to be checked off of some kind of “to do” list. My recent obsession was a box of Frosted Mini Wheats. I’ve had a long running relationship with these little critters. They actually never make it to a bowl of any kind; I just eat them like popcorn…highly frosted, packed in calorie popcorn. I eventually vowed to break off this relationship as it was causing more harm than good.

So yesterday I had a giant box of Frosted Mini Wheats sitting in the passenger seat, wearing a seatbelt (don’t judge). I am still a bit paranoid after the road kill incident from the other night. Heaven forbid I should have to hit the brakes and lose an entire box of candied wheat (I have a strict “no eating off the floor mat” policy).

I am not sure if I was telling myself that I would just have one or two every now and then when I got the munchies or not. I know better. I knew that box was going to be empty by the end of the day. I am also not sure why they were there. It’s not like I was on some kind of road trip and might have to go for miles without seeing a gas station or something (do those areas even exist anymore) but I had my survivalist box of Frosted Mini Wheats there by my side…just in case.

Once that box was opened, it was all over. I was riding down the road running through those tasty squares and happy as the city wood chipper the week after Christmas. At the end of the day, there was Frosted Mini Wheat shrapnel all over the car. When I got out of the car in the gym parking lot last night, after a fifteen minute sugar coma nap, I noticed that I had a mini wheat up on my dashboard. I have no idea how it got up there. I opened the back door to get out my gym bag and there on the back seat was another mini wheat. Seriously? How in the world did it get back there? Did I, at some point, just start throwing them at my face? Oh my word; I hope I am not on someone’s Facebook page today in a video titled “ The human woodchipper”. It’s a good thing I don’t have any kids. They would hate me. Their bags of Cheerios and Fruitloops would never make it through a church service…as a matter of fact, they would probably arrive at church with empty bags.

I was worn out when I got to the gym. I was blaming it on the fact that I had just taken in month’s worth of sugar in a matter of hours but it could have been all that chewing. I was exhausted. New rule: no more desert cereals allowed. I wish Kroger had a way of cutting a person off. You know, like a way you could go online and set up an account and put a list of things on there that it won’t let you buy. I think that might work. It would be like, if I tried to buy something on the hit list, it would sound an “alarm of shame” and not let me scan the item. I know it sounds extreme but maybe it’s time large corporations took a little personal responsibility for their customers. Maybe it’s time for Kellogg to also step up to the plate and show some personal responsibility and not put Frosted Mini Wheats in such big boxes. Who knows, I might even sue. I am concerned that the increased sugar and subsequent weight gain might be detrimental to my health. Maybe this would be a wakeup call to big business. Personal responsibility, it seems to be a thing of the past and such a hard thing to teach. All I know is that I have got to go to the $5 car wash today with the unlimited time slot vacuum. I have work to do; there is wheat to harvest.

Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut Sometimes You Don't

I don’t know exactly what happened tonight. I have been doing so well. I’ve been watching portion control, sugar, calories, everything. Tonight I went into Kroger with the idea that I was going to do a little “reward session” and make a sugar free, low fat, apple cobbler. There we apples in my cart; I do remember that but the rest is a blur. Something took over, something powerful. The only thing I can think of was, yes, you guessed it, my inner manbearpig. It had come out of hibernation and what with the pending snow storm, decided to prepare for a re-hibernation.

All I can tell you is that when I left Kroger, I had the ingredients to make an Almond Joy cobbler. “How do you make an Almond Joy cobbler” you might ask? I have no idea but I am assuming that my inner manbearpig does. I checked on it a few minutes ago and realized that I had made the basic cobbler recipe wrong. If you have ever made a “quick cobbler” then you know that rule number one is that the butter/oil does not get mixed into the batter. It goes in the bottom of the dish and the batter goes over the top. If you mix it all together is too thin. Well, in my “haste to make waist”, I mixed it all together. I think I remember making this mistake once before, years ago and it took about two days to get done. I am pretty sure that it makes it turn rubbery or something. I also noticed that I forgot the almonds…the almonds! How do you make an Almond Joy cobbler with no almonds? Let’s face it; it is no longer an Almond Joy cobbler. It is a Mounds Bar cobbler. Basically, I took the “joy” out of the cobbler. Still, my love handles are quivering in anticipation.

This had better be good. I haven’t had the real thing in a long time and these calories had better be worth it. If not, the neighbor’s dog is in for a treat. That dog should like me by now but it just growls when it sees me…hmmmm, now that I have put that in writing I think I just figured out why it hates me so much. It’s probably blaming me for all its stomach aches. I know they feed it people food but my cooking mistakes can be pretty epic. My recent crockpot “rice/broccoli loaf” and subsequent rice/broccoli patties probably topped the charts for culinary tragedies. It’s much easier to throw away a “grain wreck” than it is a desert-gone-bad. No matter how rubbery or joyless this desert turns out to be, I have a feeling that it won’t be anything that a little microwaving and scoop of ice cream can’t fix.
#yumgrrroink

Pictures Don't Lie, Unless You Pay For It.

I’ll be the first to admit it…wait, that’s a lie, let me start over. I’d really never admit this but one good thing about glasses is that they offer a bit of haze between the crow’s feet and the general public. Plus, they also give some shape to tired drooping eyes. I don’t go out in public without my glasses any more. Today was picture day for our church directory; no one is overdue an updated picture more than myself. I have known for a long time that I need a new one and that profile Facebook picture made me look five years younger five years ago.

I forgot, imagine that, that this was picture day until my phone reminded me. I didn’t have time to go home first but luckily I wasn’t running around in my sweats. I was however, dressed a bit like Johnny Cash with my solid black shirt. I hoped that I wasn’t going to stand out as someone from “the dark side” in the church directory.

I went into the room to have my picture taken and the lights were really low in there. It was a good sign. We did several in the “thinking man” pose and then switched up to a different shade of sponge painted backdrop and took a few shots from my other good side. The photographer decided to take a few pictures “sans glasses” . I took off my glasses and she took a few quick pictures, looked at her camera, looked up at me, and then said, “Oh honey no, no you need your glasses…uhuh, no, …” She looked at her camera pics again and continued, “No that’s not going to work….you need those glasses to kind of , you know, give your face some shape or something…yeah, that’s not going to work at all; just go ahead and put your glasses back on.” I was horrified at my hideousness; it was hard to go on and put on my happy face for the camera.

After the session I had to go look at them on the computer. That was tough. When we got to the “glasses free” ones, I almost screamed. Yikes! I swear I had “crazy eye” in all of them. She was a good salesman and had me whipping out my credit card in no time. She was clever. She said, “As much as none of us like to admit it, we are not as young as we used to be. Let me show you something”. She put two pictures out in front of me. The first was just a good, normal picture of herself and the second had been “Airtouched” . She pointed out, “You seen how, in the Airtouched picture, the teeth are a little whiter, the lines on the face are a little softer and the eyes appear a bit brighter?” I saw it; I saw it all. I looked at it and then turned to my big 8x10 mug on her computer in High Definition and said , “Yes please”. She smiled at me, said “Excellent choice” and swiped my credit card…all in one move.

Dear Baby Jesus,

Please forgive me for being so vain that I spent extra money (that could have gone to that country where the kids get mad when you don’t clean your plate) on generic Photoshopping for a picture that will go in a church directory to be viewed by people that I see every Sunday in broad daylight. Is that a big sin? I know it might be false advertising. I promise to be more frugal in the future and will use this as my business card photo and Facebook profile picture for the next ten years. In my defense, I thought the photographer/saleswomen must have been an angel in disguise when she showed me the photo upgrade option…sorry…that was a lie…that thought never entered my mind. Yeah, let’s just stick to my first request and I’ll stop talking before I rack up a list of things that need to be addressed.

Rituals (a serious note)

I haven’t written an update on my mom in a while. Really there is nothing new other than the knowledge of what people have to go through when a loved one is in the final stages of Alzheimer’s. Mom is basically asleep. Part of this is due to her condition and part of it is due to pain medication. We are not sure if she is any pain or not, as she has no way of letting us know, but it doesn’t seem possible that she could be comfortable in the position in which her body has atrophied.

 

There is no more communication or responses. We can wake her up and she will open her eyes but it is hard to tell if she is looking at us or just through us. I believe recognition was gone a long time ago. Yet, we still go. We go through the rituals that we have carved out and continue to follow them. We go see her and talk to her and hold her hand but we know that it is very probable that she isn’t aware of us at all.

 

Sometimes Dad and I sort of take turns talking to her. We still try to get her attention and get into her line of vision but it is different now. I guess it is the hope. The hope of seeing that expression on her face or light in her eyes that let us know that she knew we were there. Of course, with that, was always the hope that she knew who we were. Now, I think we know the answer but we still go through the same rituals of talking to her and asking questions and telling her who we are and of course, that we love her. Hope is so necessary in life but it also requires faith and a hint of possibility. That is gone; we don’t discuss it really but we know it.

 

I’ve never really been that much of a fan of rituals. It makes me think of religions filled with manmade rites, that standing alone, don’t really have any kind of connection or meaning to me. I’ve never seen their purpose. Maybe it is my Protestant upbringing that makes me think like this. Maybe it is my lack of studying what these acts stand for and represent that makes me doubt them. My attitude toward them though, is changing.

 

I am learning and growing to understand that rituals can keep us grounded. They make us feel safe, remind us of what we are supposed to be doing, keep us focused and are a physical representation of memory and thought and maybe even give us a little bit of comfort. I tell myself that I have no artificial religious rituals but when I think it through, I have many. It’s really on Sunday that they begin. I get up at a set time reserved only for Sundays. I go through my normal, morning everyday rituals of two pieces of toast (an additional bowl of cereal during times that I have “a lot on my plate”). I turn on the iron before I eat and then after breakfast I am ready to iron my “church clothes”and get dressed. I drive to church and park on the same side of the building that I always park on and then go inside, get a bulletin and go to find a seat on the left, back side of the auditorium.

 

I watch the song leader and sing the songs displayed up on the wall. We pray and sing some more. I watch and listen to a sermon that is usually about the same length in time each week, then we sing and pray and take communion. When church is over I drive straight to where my father has been waiting every Sunday for several years and we go eat lunch and then go visit my mom. There we talk to mom and each other and we enter the ritual visit that keeps us grounded and lets us know mom is OK. It is where we used to look for a glimpse of mom recognizing us, a response, or a smile. Now we go there knowing we are only checking on her and getting to spend a little time with her. It is time; time that we will not have for much longer. It’s a ritual, a habit, an obligation, a desire; it’s a rut that we have carved out and traveled for several years now and are happy that we still get a chance to make that journey, though the destination is a shadow of what it used to be…but our love for the destination has never changed.