Archive for the ‘guilt’ Category

Rebuilding the “robot”

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Photo by Patrick Andrade for The New York Times

Just as I gave the women of Iowa credit, the women of New Hampshire got soft. One thing you can never say about Hilary Clinton is that she is stupid. Being a woman myself, at least at last check, I can relate to the whole “if you cry, they say you are emotional” and the crap line “if you are too strong, they will think you are a bitch.” Men do both every day and they are not accused of these “crimes.” Yes. I’m defending Hilary Clinton a little — much to my chagrin. It was time Clinton showed something.

Even though I am not entirely sure the tears that choked her up at that campaign stop in a Portsmouth, New Hampshire coffee shop were authentic, part of me says, “So what?” Can’t women do both? Lead with their heart and their head? There is no doubt that the women of New Hampshire stepped up to Hilary’s defense of constant attacks. I will admit that I’ve attacked her as well and I don’t take it back. There is something about her that screams insincerity and I’m not saying that because she’s a woman. But she has every right, as the male candidates do, to go strong, show some authenticity and emotion and use still be shrewd. As she does all of those things, I wish the media would focus less on the fact that she’s a woman. I almost feel that the Iowa results influenced the New Hampshire ones because people there said, “Wait, Hilary’s getting a bum rap. Let’s keep her in this thing and see what happens.”

And like I said, she isn’t stupid. Recruiting the old faces  proved to be a clear winning move for Hilary. Another clear move: chatting at that coffee shop where a probably now infamous woman asked, “How are you doing?” which brought Hilary to seemingly show a human face. It’s now on record that it was the push Hilary needed in her campaign. I’m not sure it made much difference to me other than I thought, “Now that’s a smart move…” instead of, “Wow, she’s actually going to weep. I feel for her.” Don’t we want strategy in the White House? That was better than Stratego.

Still, I’m on the fence. As I often am about politics. I’m not sure if it came down to Hilary against McCain who I would vote for. 

Day 63: The power of a note on the door…

Be gone all you thiefs!I woke up to discover this morning that my tiny Christmas tree equipped with tiny, shiny, glittery little ornaments was swiped from my front porch. I know that it may not have been the best thing — to actually leave something I gave a rip about on the front porch. But combined with the gold bells on my door, the bow I made latched on to the door knocker — everything felt so nice when I came home. Because from inside and out my house was so very pleasantly festive with Christmas cheer. Well, my Christmas cheer faded with my little discovery.

I became enraged. I left a polite note on my neighbor’s door about it after looking around the complex (and glancing the trash) to see if I would find it somewhere. I sat in my house, numb with anger of course. I’ve been robbed several times in my life. Mostly related to my car. This was it. So I kept checking the peep hole every now and then just to see if I saw someone to ask questions. Then I noticed this one young looking guy coming down from upstairs who looked quite guilty when he stopped at my neighbor’s door to read my note which read:

“If you happen to know who stole my tree, please let me know. It wasn’t very nice. Signed (my apartment number).”

Then after he read it, he looked down directly where my Christmas tree WOULD have been. When I saw his face I decided to draft another letter and this time put it on MY door. This one read:

“Merry Christmas Asshole. Whoever stole my fucking Christmas tree doesn’t know who they are fucking with. You will get yours — one way or another. Signed (my apartment number).”

I fumed. Ran errands and came home. Then I heard some really loud walking and looked out the peephole. I saw my “friendly” upstairs neighbor going downstairs. I decided to wait for her to head back up. She would have to pass my door to get to her apartment. I waited because the connection was made. She was surely friends with the guy from earlier in the afternoon. Before I could completely ask her if she had heard anything funny last night she confessed that her friend stole my tree. She said he was “intoxicated” and that she was sorry and was bringing back the tree. Guess what she said next?

“I didn’t appreciate that note. It wasn’t very Christmas-like…”

THE BALLS ON THIS CHICK! I told her I didn’t give a damn, she stole from me and that I’ve been through a lot in my life. And that I didn’t appreciate HER stealing from me. She proceeded to say it wasn’t her. It was her friend. Same damn thing. Long story longer, she brought it back and said that she didn’t want it to affect things with her and I. Hilarious. My punctuation mark was letting her know I’ve been victimized in my life and that stealing from me was wrong. She felt like shit. Her face was if she may have concluded I was once upon a time kidnapped and left for dead.

What does this have to do with the countdown? Nothing. An hour walking in a parade carrying a giant Curious George yesterday and ending my day getting back stolen property counts as a workout for me.

FIN.

Day 30: Spit it out if it ain’t great

I was going to write this as Day 29 but I looked at the time and realized it’s technically Day 30. Day friggin’ 30! Almost a month of this countdown. I’ve decided that come November I will be starting another page. It will have to be a creation of sheer motivation being that November is the beginning of cornbread stuffing.

Day 28 I spent much of my day walking the lake by my apartment. I was in search of an event for Dia de Los Muertos. I’ll have pictures posted soon so you can see my justification for not officially hitting the gym. And alas Day 29 can only give more excuses of deadline and working on my new blog. In addition, come Day 31 I will be getting into Halloween mischief. Later today is about my only shot until Thursday, Day 32. though I’m really behind on reading everyone’s blogs.

I’ve been eating fairly healthy — chicken breast, salads, soups but…*sighs* I did have Halloween treats last weekend. Two rice crispy treats and two chocolate chip cookies….FOR SHAME! The hostess of the party that night gave me a doggie bag of treats which I threw out yesterday. I decided if the goodies aren’t stellar, they aren’t worth my calories. Seems obvious enough but you know damn well we all still nibble foods we are indifferent about which is super counter productive.

Well, checking the scale again it seemed I lost two more pounds…but I’m not getting excited. Water retention is my worst enemy…

Day 25: Not ready for the before and after shot

I’ve been thinking about how I “forgot” to shoot a BEFORE photo. Sure the one I have on my countdown page was supposed to suffice but the helmet, fishnets, knee pads and skates are distracting. Then I thought am I even ready for the BEFORE photo…?

Thing is I’m usually the one behind the camera and I’m really picky about who takes my photo. I always hate it. The other problem is that I’ve lost inches, so the BEFORE photo wouldn’t be accurate. Maybe it should be an AFTER THE MISSING BEFORE PHOTO photo.  However my inches lost are probably not even significant enough to be detected…And did I mention I’m a photographer without a tripod?

Anyway, I haven’t worked out since Day 21 but I’ve managed to lose a whopping two pounds and like I said, a (very) few inches. I blame stress, fluctuating water weight and general malaise for the extremely minor accomplishment. I have until January 27 to get this right. I’ll settle for my old fighting weight — pre-college graduation. I will be heading to the gym tonight after this post…even though this day ended pretty much with a work-related phone call that lasted two hours during dinner.

I can say that I’ve not had a single Sonic slush or burger in two weeks. I’ve been immersed in salads, stews,  and protein. I’ve limited severe indulges to one or twice a week — i.e. Tuaca Lemondrop Martinis and the like. But I’ve let Hefeweizen, organic flatbread and pasta slip in. I’m starting to think the triple threat holiday season is about the silliest time to get hot.

And for now, here is my best BEFORE:

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Photo by Hal Samples. It was taken last month. And yes. I know. Not really a full-length photo…

Day 17-18: I smoked on the balcony…

I’m so relaxed.

Lots of things make me do that. All of which aren’t a good enough reason to toke on a cancer stick. However, I buy a pack a month and smoke when I feel it’s necessary. Day 16 and 17 included smoking a cig on the balcony. It felt good. And I just relaxed. Maybe I should have a fake one like the aspergers guy from Boston Legal to appease something inside of me with a placebo type method. I did walk the fair today. And I’m already friggin’ sore as hell from Day 15. So, we’ll see for the weekend. I’m already invited to a VIP party Friday which I doubt will be swarming in healthy. This shit is hard…especially when you have become a recent object of attention from the non-fairer sex. Men are distracting.

Days 10-12: Winning/Losing the Good Fight

OK. This will not be an entry of excuses. I repeat this will not be an entry of excuses and I write this again and again Bart Simpson style on my mental chalkboard. But alas I didn’t work out. I haven’t since Day 8 technically but I think Day 9 counted since I walked the whole damn fair for most of my day. The guilt is creeping in — I should have really pushed harder this week. And even though I have DVR now (which seems like I was the last to get it), the Thursday lineup just makes me want to sit on the couch and sip my sake…

Good news is that I’m dropping a few inches. But mostly in my feet. I have a pair of fierce heels that were slipping off of me on Day 10. I remember specifically that they used to be tight as hell. This time around I had to be careful not to fall over from them sliding all around. Also I looked in the mirror this morning and seemed less disgusted at myself. Ah. Progress.

Well, today is a day of pampering. I’m getting my hair done. And possibly nails. Because really, this countdown is about improvement and what’s improvement without a little pampering, right?

Teach me how to lie…without guilt.

It’s a Sunday. An overcast Sunday at that. And I’ve showered, ate some apricots and am pondering lunch. I feel pretty damn relaxed for once and I just want to be loungy today.

Well today wasn’t supposed to be a day of leisure. I had some places to be today but didn’t feel like going. Actually, I don’t have to be there but I tend to obligate myself to just about everything. Which is what I did on a Friday night as well — obligated myself to an event I was really only going to because I was asked by a family member. But not today. Today I want to fart around on WordPress. Watch IFC and pack up for my move Saturday. So I told a few fibbers. Small but fibs just the same.

As you can read in my bio, I don’t like lying. And in fact today’s fibber wasn’t really a true lie. I have been doing some work today, as my fib mentioned. However I haven’t spent all day doing it. I just didn’t want to leave the house. Didn’t want to shed my full tank of gas. So I fibbed.

But now the guilt is setting in and it wasn’t even a really big lie! How do politicians do this everyday?! I sometimes wish I could lie and in fact lie without the guilt attached. I’m not Catholic but I am surely someone who can feel guilty at the drop of a hat. Even if it isn’t my fault. What a deficiency to have! Tomorrow will be full of more obligations, even after work hours. So I already have a nice bookend of my time obligated. So Sunday I lied. Er fibbed.

I don’t really know why I’ve blogged about this. Maybe it’s my form of a confessional…