Breaking the silence about pain

I have many family members and friends, but the truth is that there is just a fairly small circle of people that I started letting in on my secret a few months ago. Unless of course you have seen me often in person, in which case you know what has been happening at least a little bit. You and I both knew that something wasn't right.

It started back around 2011 actually, when I think back. I had over the years started being able to do a little less energy-wise even back at my graphic design job in 2006. It just seemed like I was always warn out at the end, especially considered increasing stress from a supervisor that was steering me away from what I was good at into taking care of all of the departmental leftovers that nobody wanted. So when I quit that job and went back to school I experienced a certain amount of upswing. By 2011, I was finishing my thesis to wrap up grad school, had that deadline followed by having to help clear out my grandmother's house to sell it, and two weeks later move ourselves.

By the end of 2011 my health crashed. I spent a few months fighting off illness. But even throughout 2012 and well into 2013, I couldn't possibly think of getting gainful full-time employment. I had a friend who gave me some work, but even the part-time work was exhausting me.

I started progressively dragging. I had gained much more weight than I had liked over time. I was increasingly sluggish and my attempts to increase my physical activity seemed to always end in disaster after a couple of weeks. I would have shoulder pain, knee pain, and/or ankle pain. The benefits a person should see from increased physical activity would never fully materialize.

At the same time we were facing a possible move to another part of the state, so I couldn't get a job full-time and juggle house hunting. So, in the mind of my family, I was sort of employed by them as personal house hunter.  That took several trips, multiple rounds of disappointment, but ultimately it turned out for the best. We didn't need to move up north after all, which was good because we were having a hell of a time trying to find a place that was both affordable and worth moving that far.

By the time 2014 rolled around, something changed. I started trying more fervently to lose some weight and possibly get my health back so that I could start trying to work at least part-time.  Instead, while eating better made me feel psychologically better and was benefiting other members of my family, the improved food life was not changing the fact that I had started developing swollen finger joints, and all of the roving pain I experienced when trying to exercise was just getting worse. And I started feeling tired. And more tired. And even more fatigued. And then I had a cold that thoroughly kicked me, we moved to another house, and my pain was so bad that I could hardly move. I had a gorgeous upstairs bedroom that I had to creep slowly up the stairs to every night. I would wake up every couple of hours, and have an incredibly hard time just making it to my bathroom. I finally needed a cane just to get there because both knees hurt, but my right knee was really bad. Hobbling there was the only option.

Again, I tried changing my diet, finding that there were some foods that certainly made my situation worse. I had gotten acupuncture which helped my knees get more functionality back.  But nothing solved my fatigue, my swollen joints. my incredibly pain-filled hands, or the way that I could just never find a normal. Never find a day without pain anymore.

So I finally went to the doctor. Being out of work meant that I really didn't have financial means unless I put even more financial burden on my family. But after a verbal consultation with my family doctor, he recommended I go ahead and file paperwork and get on state funded healthcare. So I did.

So after all these months and a full blood panel I now have medication and answers. I have Rheumatoid Arthritis and Hypothyroidism. While I am now about the same as I have been for weeks, I am not doing any worse. I am on medications that should start helping in a few weeks.

Everyone in my family knows now what my official diagnosis is. My illness has a name. I can admit now that I need more assistance opening everything, have someone else cut things for me because I can't operate a knife without hurting my hands. I can get special tools to assist me because I know this isn't some transient moment, but something I'm likely going to be dealing with for the rest of my life. I don't have to feel guilty because I can't hang out with friends because my pain is too bad, or I'm too tired and need a nap.

I don't even have any objections from my family because I want to cut my hair really short and make it easier to actually wash and dry, and not have to have my shoulder, wrist, and hand scream at me while I try to get my hair dry and styled. Everyone really understands that I have to do these things for me whether anyone else thinks a short hair style will actually be flattering on me. I have to do what's best. To adapt. To learn how to tackle these new issues.

I have also learned that opening up about your needs can garner new friends and allies. People who you didn't know where also suffering in silence can relate to your problems.

Maybe all of us need to open up a little more often and tell the truth about our pain. Not for pity, or to garner attention to ourselves, or to ask for crazy home remedies, but to bolster each other. To understand that many of us are suffering with chronic illness in silence unnecessarily.

Sometimes we just need to know that others understand without judgment or pity.

Rejoicing in the gradual victories

I'm not sure where on the happiness scale losing weight falls, but for me it's one of the great joys.

This week marked two fantastic milestones.

Number One: I was able to button and zip an old pair of jeans. Since at least 2011 and possibly a while before that, I had been unable to comfortably fit into the majority of my jeans. So I had bought other knit pants, and loose fitting items to "get me by" until I could lose a couple pounds or buy new pants. And so, because I obviously had been unable to lose the weight, I had gone ahead and continued to restock my wardrobe. I muddled through with mostly knit and elastic waist items, finally breaking down last year and getting a hold of a couple of pairs of inexpensive jeans two sizes up from those jeans collecting dust in the back of my closet.

So when it was time last week to give up on wearing my long-sleeved sweaters anymore and to truck out my shorts and sleeveless tops for our early summer weather, I decided on a whim to throw on a pair of jeans.  They were never my favorite during an extended period of fashion when there was nothing but low-waisted and really low-waisted jeans. But these jeans did the job. They were good jeans. But I was too overweight to wear them.

Now I slipped them on. Thinking I would do my usual deep breath and have the button and zipper not come anywhere meeting. Luckily I was wrong.

No more snug than any pair of freshly washed jeans, I buttoned and zipped and sat down in them and did a small jig around my bedroom. I am able to fit in to some jeans TWO SIZES SMALLER than I was in January.

This was worthy of enough rejoicing. Yet even more would come today.

Number 2: I have lost 19 lbs. I am starting to see numbers on my scale I have not seen in 3 or 4 years at least.  I'm thinking closer to four.

Seeing the scale reading this morning almost made me cry with joy.  And this is only the beginning.

I have a long road yet ahead of me, but to have already made such good progress gives me joy and hope.

And if eighty percent of success is showing up, I'm going to continue to show up. And knock down the walls. And work my way methodically to a better version of me.

The Fat Fatwa: Recognizing What's Really Important

I knew that last week was going to be a bad week for weight loss. I didn't lose a single pound.

Why? I was traveling.

People who are living a fit and active lifestyle take advantage of things like on-site fitness centers while they travel. However, I had not done any really intense exercise in a while and knew that while on vacation was NOT the time to start. While maybe someday I can be one of those people who makes sure they hit a treadmill before leaving for the day, right now I am not that person. Right now I am that person who hasn't quite gotten past periods of being tired and ill and injuring too easily. Right now, I have to focus on the larger goal of getting healthier as my first priority.

So what do we do? We sort of toss the dieting aside for a few days when we're down. Really what matters most in such times is getting ones health back before we start trying to toss some pounds aside.

However, this doesn't mean we totally give up. We don't continue to shrug off recording our food, our exercise, and watching what we eat. But there is an inevitability isn't there? We cannot be sticking to our programs rigidly every moment. Sometimes we have to let it go just for a time to get through.

But that doesn't mean we abandon our project altogether. Our lives are too short, too wonderful, and too precious to give up on our goal of self-improvement.

Why am I saying this? Because I had lost a few pounds, gained some back and then stayed there between this week and last. And this is mostly because I was traveling and then sick.

I also say that we must press on, because this week I found out my big loss was of a long ago friend whom I had lost touch with, who succumbed to cancer. He was a year older than me. He was always a vibrant individual, but to know he suffered and died is tragic.

For the living it reminds us of why we are losing weight. Why we are fighting this fight. Why we must not give up.

Because life is too short to waste any precious moments.

The Writing Process Blog Hop

Thanks to a delightful blog I follow by Dallas Dyson, known as The Crazy Train to Tinky Town, I found out late yesterday that there was an opportunity for a blog hop. Ever since my attempt at NaNoWriMo for the first time this past year, I have had the pleasure of bonding over Twitter and Facebook with an incredible array of writers and people in the publishing industry to glean wisdom and insight from.  In the spirit of bonding and passing along positive spirit and sharing the  joy and pain of a writer's life, I couldn't help but participate. Without further ado, here are my answers to the fantastic blog hop questions, four in total: 

What are you working on?
Currently I have a few irons in the fire outside of this blog, which I have been writing about what interested me in the moment. Now I'm realizing with The Fat Fatwa series that my blogs about weight loss are really bonding and encouraging for my friends, so who knows where that will lead. I am also trying to figure out how to do all of this in such a way as to bring in income soon. Luckily I have a very supportive family but I could use some bacon on the table.

But outside of that I am working on the following:

1) I am working on a memoir/creative non-fiction book about my grandmother whose life we have unearthed mostly through her belongings.  She was one of those people who was so secretive that there were huge aspects of her life that we just simply have had no clue about until she started suffering from dementia and we had to start putting her in care facilities. She turned out to be a secret hoarder, with things jammed away in closets and attics that had value and history and have given us glimpses of her real life that she never ever told us. As we have gone through her things, I also realized that not only did we not only not know her well, but that my research of her life would yield good material for her eulogy when she passes away. And I know that I am the best one to do that eulogy. I'm about 40 pages in, and it's a slow process, but it's a story I'm telling because I believe it is a rather fascinating story. 

2) I have a back burner project about writing a Master's Thesis. After the myriad of books I read trying to muddle through the process of getting my Master of Arts in English Literature, I discovered a dearth of materials pertaining to the subject.  There were many books on writing a Doctorate, but I know many more people who have been going on for the mid-range Master's who don't really have any guidance. While I got some, I found no one really told the real story of what you go through as a writer during that process.

3) I have research to do on two different WWII stories that no one has told yet. And I aim to research and detail both of them. I shall refrain from talking about them however, because I don't want anyone stealing my thunder.  I have trust issues as a writer. 

How does your work differ from others in the genre?

1) The memoir/creative-nonfiction piece is different from many in that it's less purely my memoir, and more of a memoir and biographical piece. None of the guide books that I have read yet have really touched on the kind of book I'm writing, and I believe this may be a very good thing.

2) The MA book I feel will be broad and lighthearted.  The few books that I read were very very narrow how-to books that didn't apply to hardly anyone.  I am definitely not one who believes that writing should be that strictly regimented, and couldn't possibly work that way. So I felt like writing a book that made more general sense and offers different approaches and ways to not beat yourself up for not knowing what you are doing.  Because really no one who is completing their thesis knows what they are doing. I discovered that everyone is winging it.

3) I have found two aspects of WWII that are virtually untouched in books or cinema, and these true stories are begging, clawing, and scrapping their way to the surface. I feel that if I can tell these stories they will blow people away.  

Why do you write what you write?
I used to think that what I should be writing is novels. I have a very creative extended family including writers yet to be discovered, and thought that I would just be following in their footsteps.  However, as time goes on, I realized that my wheelhouse and my passion is for telling true stories.  The ones of real lives that otherwise would be lost to time and buried somewhere as generations are lost and people don't pass things down to the next generation telling family legends and stories the way they did in prior generations.  This is a tragic loss, and I want to do my best salvage some of these pieces of history before it's too late.

How does your writing process work?
You know how some people methodically plan out every aspect of their work in an outline and the meticulously work at the same hour from 6-8 a.m. every morning, always write in a journal, and follow all of the rules writing instruction has been dishing for decades? 

I'm not one of those people. And I struggled for years fighting against the extreme doubt as to my own ability to write simply because I couldn't follow it to the letter the way all of the experts told me I had to in order to be a success.

Successfully finishing my thesis actually helped me realize that my writing process didn't have to have the iron structure laid out for me. That, in fact, I could be as crazy, haphazard, and unstructured as I wanted to be.  The most important part was to write.  To get it all out of me, on paper, and thought out.  The writing process became another version of my thought process and allowing myself that freedom was a huge revelation to me. 

Now I work in a way that works for me.  I recently acquired Scrivener which admittedly I don't totally have the hang of yet.  But what I like about it as a program, is that it very much parallels the kind of writing-in-chunks process that I do in a word processing program.  And it makes it really easy to move whole sections around and see your writing in blocks.  Also, it's fairly easy to export into MSWord when I'm done with each draft, so it's really a winning program.

Honestly, when I get really stuck, I often return to writing segments with a good stack of college-ruled notebook paper, and a soft-rolling, fine point, ballpoint pen.

Obviously the editing process isn't skipping merrily through tulips, but is actually considerably better than when I was trying to confine myself to the straight-jacket of regimented writing.

So anyone else that wants to follow along this blog hop, feel free to comment here with a link to yours, and if you want to, leave a link over at the Crazy Train... to get all sorts of hopping going.

The Fat Fatwa: Reasons I Hate Exercise

Image from Smartfamilyfitness.com

The modern consensus is that if you want to be happier and healthier one must exercise. But what I would like to lay out here is the fact that I hate it.  

The cultural push, especially in looks-conscious California, is that if you are going to be anybody you have to be fit and pretty. That's it. If you're not fit, you're not pretty. And fitness requires you to spend hours upon hours in a gym, drink crazy green wheatgrass concoctions, and obsess about your body. You have to get in a certain amount of cardio or one day you will just drop dead.

If you are losing weight, you are supposed to be crazy happy about exercising, and it's supposed to feel like a million kinds of awesome. Instead, I finish and I never feel great. I can sometimes during, but never as awesome as some of my more athletic and able-bodied friends report.

The problem is that as I lose weight, I am increasingly saggy. Before I start to look like a flying squirrel with skin flaps under my arms, I must set about doing something about it. But I also know that I hate exercise. Why?

• I am and always have been injury prone. Back in Jr. High, I managed to sprain my ankle 8 times in two years. Every time it was due to P.E. class and their instance upon warming up by jogging in a field riddled with gopher holes. This apparently made me a special case, and eventually they assigned me to an Adaptive P.E. class for students with special physical needs because apparently the rest of the population was just fine running on horribly uneven grass.  It was at this time that I discovered that between the horribly flat feet I had suffered from since childhood, and my beefy Irish and German made-for-lugging-hay-bales bone structure being held up by dancer's ligaments, I was always going to have issues. I can injure myself thinking about exercise.
• I have never been good at sports. Not only did I have these flat-footed issues to deal with, but I also rarely had anyone who would even attempt to teach me sports. My mother was never athletic, and my father was more so, but never available to really teach me anything. I had no older siblings, so school was where I got the majority of my sports training, which meant that if I didn't pick things up super fast I was out of luck. So I spent most of my time in softball's outfield not playing at all, last to be picked for every team, and chasing my soccer ball or basketball up and down the court.
• It's boring. I have never understood the insistence that being an adult means we must have things as tedious as possible.When we're little, we have recess.  But as we get older, it is methodically replaced with more tedious items. We measure our activities in repetitions and minutes. If only exercise was giant, adult-scale size swing sets and jungle gyms I might be more enthused.  Instead we have repetitions on equipment, or running on a treadmill. Or walking the same route in the same neighborhood or on a track. I find that when I listen to something interesting like a podcast or audiobook while I walk, I lose pace. But without it, if I do just music I can often be bored out of my skull.
• The things I do enjoy are inconvenient. The two most enjoyable things for me are dancing and water aerobics if we're talking about a really good cardio workout. With dancing, I have to again be super careful. The last time I was doing one of the most effective cardio dance workouts, a few days later I had a pinched sciatic nerve and one of the worst pain incidents of my life. Many years ago I had some success going to regular water aerobics classes at the gym. Now I'm not really in a place financially to afford a gym, and it's always pretty difficult to find one conveniently located with a water aerobics class that is well-timed. So I'm always plagued by issues with these choices as well.

This leaves me in a position of having to do things that maybe aren't as cardio heavy.  I like yoga a great deal for the stress-relieving benefits. I also enjoy the games on Wii Fit that get me a little bit of benefit.  And sometimes I enjoy just randomly light dancing around my room for an allotted period of time to just try to do something semi-amusing, somewhat active, that doesn't make me feel bored and, in the end, icky.

But I want to embrace all of this. I'm tired of the pressure to feel as pumped up and awesome about exercise as others are. I want to yell out, "WE ARE NOT ALL THE SAME!!"  

So why do we have to feel the same about fitness?

The Fat Fatwa: Five Things I've Learned About Weight Loss

 First let me get this out of the way. I have news.

I have lost 14.4 pounds so far!

Ladies and gents, this is amazing. The last time I was on Weight Watchers I believe that it took longer to get to this point, and I had a gym membership then. This is weight loss despite realizing early on that I needed to lose some weight *first* before attempting to rapidly ramp up exercise.

Since I started this mission back in January, I didn't know how far I would come and how fast. I just figured it would take as long as it took this time and I told myself I would press on and continue even if it didn't seem like it was working sometimes, and even if I felt miserable sometimes it had to be better than the state of health I was in at the start.

This means I reached my first default weight loss goal set by the Weight Watchers software. Woohoo!!

So what have I learned so far?

1. Don't fall off the bandwagon when things got tough. I seem to recall other times when I was trying to do this without the benefit of Weight Watchers, that I would spiral out of control. I ate more than I intended, and would kind of go "Oh, my diet's shot for the day anyway" and just pile on. And want to quit soon after.Not so, now. Have I had a couple of unexpected setbacks on certain days? Yes. But that didn't mean throwing in the towel. And I didn't quit when personal problems and depression and all sorts of things happened to shake my emotions and my psyche. I nursed myself back, but I didn't stop doing the Weight Watchers program. I did have some comforting things, but tried to treat my body as part of the whole unit undergoing stress and feed it nourishing things not just comforting things. And I am constantly in the process of learning to not be so hard on myself if I struggle one day.  It's just one day. The great thing about life is being afforded a new start every 24 hours.
2. This is YOUR journey.  It is very helpful to start to get into the mindset of this being YOUR journey and so therefore it doesn't have to be at a rate or pace of anyone else. I believe that when you own it, and realize that it is going to be super difficult and don't let any weight loss program or any advertising convince you that it's not. You may not even have some grand epiphany like they do in the commercials. And your friends and family may have swifter weight loss success than you do. That's okay.  They are not you. Your body is yours and your relationship is very individual. Embrace being you. I have heard many weight loss experts extol the virtues of buddying up for exercise and weight loss. But I don't believe this is for everyone. If you are the type of person that wants to compete with someone else toward goals, I applaud you for your efforts. But that isn't for everyone. The friends I have that have been most supportive have been the ones that have been saying, "I have these struggles too." Where we share articles and talk about things together. For me, a support group of people that I know that have known me for years is much more therapeutic than a meetup say at a Weight Watchers meeting with total strangers. And I don't have to pay a weekly fee to have a total stranger judge my weight loss success or failure.
3. Listen to your body. I had been listening to my body complain in other ways before the weight loss started. Now, instead of just the usual joint aches, back aches, fatigue, and ill health, I have days where my body tells me "I'm hungry" all day long. Why? Sometimes it's as simple as having too carb-heavy a breakfast, and sometimes I think it's just a matter of my metabolism taking another shift and burning more fuel. Or a whole combination of issues. Whereas in times past I may have drunk a glass of water and told myself the hunger was only in my mind, and "no pain, no gain," this time around I have learned it's better to satisfy hunger, just do so sensibly. I will feel like crap all day or all night if I don't take care of it. I have a wide array of healthful snacks and snack bars that provide me more balanced energy. I will have a very fitful night's sleep if I don't take care of the hunger, so if that means I go over and deep into my WW weekly bonus points allotment, then so be it. I am much more likely to be on track and feeling better the next day if I don't go to bed feeling like I am ready to eat my pillow.
4. Try something new. I have realized that the key to giving up some things that are less good for you and moderating your diet requires trying some new things.  On my periodic pilgrimage to Trader Joe's I like to pick something out that I haven't tried before. So far I have managed to put into my repertoire a delicious rice medley, a Provençale cod dish with Ratatouille Rice, and Kiwi Berries (also known as baby kiwis). I also tried kumquats and discovered they are disgusting.  But the point is to add some things that really spice up your life. 
5. Learn how to celebrate. I think we all celebrate in the language of food. I don't think that's entirely a bad thing, depending on the food. But I also know how to celebrate victories with non-food or food items. So celebrating with a whipped cream topped drink may be out, but a yogurt or a square of chocolate is fine. Or treating ones self to a new book.  Or a manicure. Or a nap. But celebrating the small victories is crucial. Realize even .2 of a pound is still a victory.

Know, my dear reader, we are in this together. And I thank you to those of you who continue to encourage me along the way, and who share conversations and articles that can help each other and your contributions to my life are such a blessing!

Keep on my fellow soldiers! Keep on!

My Fat Fatwa: New Jeans and Toxins

Let's get the bad news out of the way: losing weight hurts.  Well at least for me it does, and I imagine for many others it does as well.

A few weeks in and I still have days of depression, and I have had many, many days of pain so far. I have had a tendency to get inflamed joints as it is, particularly in places like my shoulders, ankles, knees, and hands.  The shoulder pain is usually the worst but this time it has also been hand pain.

And I could not for the life of me figure out why, when I'm doing something positive, I was having so much inflammation.

After some research I discovered one word: toxins. Every chemical and pesticide and pretty much every nasty toxic thing can be stored in fat cells. So when you start burning those fat cells, guess what? Those babies empty into your system, travel the length of your body, and inflame various parts of your body. Isn't that delightful?

So the price you pay is fatigue and feeling like crap, and in my case, you have sore joints. And who really wants to exercise with inflamed joints? I can't do it. I always end up making that situation worse not better. So I break out the antioxidants and flood my body with things that will help flush this stuff out. But if the past few weeks are any indicator, this is going to be the norm for me. And I have the distinct feeling that this is the case for many who struggle to lose weight.

So while I watch spokespeople for various programs tout their wares on national television, talking about how wonderful they feel, I would like everyone to know that you can also be doing it right AND STILL FEEL LIKE CRAP.  Don't let the bouncy, perky, people make you feel bad about feeling bad. It's all par for your course.

But it isn't all bad news for me.

While I haven't yet reached my first goal weight milestone on Weight Watchers, I have continued being a loser.

This has meant two monumental things happened:

1) I have now lost a total of 6.6 lbs.  Considering how much I have to lose it may not seem like much, but it's just enough to be losing at just the right pace.

And the happy part is the continuing to lose even tenths of a pound.

2) My jeans were so loose, I had to buy new ones.  It was so satisfying to already have to go down one pants size.  Not that every pair of jeans in that size fit me, but these do. Losing a size already is amazing. And replacing my former jeans was completely necessary. I had already invested in a fun little implement called a "hip hugger" that clips on your jeans and helps them stay up.  And even with that, it worked for a few days and then I continued to have the same issue progressing.

Now these jeans are snug. And that makes me happy, knowing that in the next few weeks, I will likely have these become looser too. But they aren't uncomfortable now. It's a win-win.

So to all of my fellow losers out there, keep on my soldiers. It's a rough battle, but battle on!

My Fat Fatwa: Finding Motivation

I swear, the past twenty-four hours have been hellish.

As far as I knew, Weight Watchers was *not* supposed to feel like this.

Here's the deal: I was expecting to feel obnoxious. I've been at the beginning of a major dietary coup before. I know I wasn't supposed to feel all sunshine and rainbows. But, come on! The problem is, that for a few days now, since I started my campaign, I have been famished. It's not that I am starving myself.  We had a pretty good stock pile of frozen veggies and fresh fruits.  And I have been hitting those like a madwoman.  And no matter how much of those I ate, it wouldn't be terribly long before they would be gone, and I would feel like I hadn't eaten anything at all.  Nothing.  It was freaking awful.

When you go to bed and wake up feeling like you want to gnaw your own arm off, something is amiss. For a while I was wondering if the whole experience was going to be like this.  Am I going to just continue to feel like an emotional wreck? And will people allow me to be grumpy?

Really the happy pappy dieting success people were getting on my nerves too.  Can I not just be allowed to be grumpy?  Can't we all just allow each other to be grumpy at least in the beginning?

I think we should allow ourselves to feel awful without retribution.  Why do we expect that we have to feel one way or another? Why do we feel it necessary to require others to feel happy, pumped, or on fire? I would argue that each individual needs to process an experience individually.

Still, I would like to feel better and not feel like I was ravenously hungry all the time. I was going through all the usual suspects.  I was using all my Weight Watchers points.  That was the problem the last time I tried doing the WW thing about 7 years ago. I would not use all my points and not only would I not lose weight, I'd feel like ass all the time. But that's not the case here. I had been loading on all my zero point, power foods that they recommended.

I was eating better. What the heck was going on here?!!!

Then it hit me: carbs and sugar.

The natural progression, because sugar and carbs have a tendency to scarf up points like nothing else, was to avoid those things. And this is good.  A good transition to make. But my body was obviously going into shock. I was having my own little biological nervous breakdown for lack of scones and sandwiches and things that had sugar and empty carbs coming out the wazoo.

So I got myself a sandwich at lunch.  On a whole wheat, denser and more fiber-filled bun.  A lean barbecue chicken sandwich.  And while I felt a little on the tired side, it was SO MUCH BETTER than what I felt like before.

On top of this, I was able to do a Trader Joe's run, where my family helped me stock the cupboard, freezer, and fridge with an array of interesting foods. I have soups I have never tried before, and multi-rice dishes, and fiber-rich snacks and healthy bread. All ways to round out the diet where I was lacking and get a little adventurous.  I also picked up kumquats (which I had never tried before) and blood oranges (which I also haven't tried.)

Here is my thought: if I have to upend my dietary life, let's try something completely different. Let's do a little culinary off-roading and see what happens?

My Fat Fatwa: Episode One

To start off my blog again, to return to the blogosphere in a dramatic style, I would like to announce that I joined Weight Watchers.

This all began innocently enough. I was watching television with my family, and my dad pipes up and recommends, out-of-the-blue, that I should join Nutri-System.  I pointed out that I didn't think they would have the selection of frozen, pre-packaged foods that I would totally be on board with.  Every commercial featured a cheesy, dairy-filled commercial with milkshakes and the whole nine yards.  As a member of the lactose intolerant this would wage unmitigated gastrointestinal blitzkrieg.  And I'm pretty sure that the selection, while good, isn't good enough to keep me satisfied in the long term.  And I know that the transition from pre-packaged food to real everyday eating habits can often cause issues.

So I pointed out that if I was going to do something like that, I had been more thinking about joining Weight Watchers.  It had worked a little at one time when I attempted it before. Before life got even more complicated, stress had piled on, and everything changed again. 

And so it began.  I thought about it, and decided that I would take advantage of sign-up fees being waived and try to plow into the whole weight loss thing again.  I signed up, and am now in the midst of trying to completely readjust my life.

What I had found most frustrating lately, is the ads, magazines and such. All of the success stories I see on television talk about how easy it was with their plan.  I absolutely refuse to even try Jenny Craig, not only because it doesn't seem any different from Nutri-System, but also because the women look worse than they did when they were heavier.  The after person is supposed to look gorgeous, vivacious and healthy, and invariably the people they choose look less healthy and attractive at the end.  No thanks.

That's awesome that your plan helped you lose 20lbs. Even 35 lbs. Awesome. Actually, you looked great before you lost weight. Now try needing to lose more than 50lbs.  That's where I am.  That's where most of the people I know who try to lose weight are. 

Can we get real here? Weight loss isn't easy no matter which plan you choose. One year I tried doing the South Beach Diet, and felt like I was in an uncomfortable, fatigued fog all the time.  It was awful. Your shake, even if I am lucky enough to be able to consume it, will not bring about lasting change.  

Even calling it a "lifestyle change" seems misleading to me.  Let's lay it all out here on the line.

Weight loss is more like trying to win the Iditarod in a self-made sled made of Churros powered by squirrels.  Or attempting to climb Mt. Everest in a bikini with suction cups on your hands. 

If you watch a show like The Biggest Loser you find people really brutalized in order to lose a bunch of weight.  Guess what? Even if you're not in a gym for hours with a personal trainer and abiding by their plans, it's going to feel like you are being brutalized.

And here I am, by the way, a few days in. If you are like me, are you going to be a happy camper a few days in? I think if you're doing it right, no.  And by the way, this idea that if you just follow this thing or that thing that it will absolutely work.  You know what I think works? Is finding what is closest to something you might kind of be able to do.  That's the best we get. The best we can hope for. Is something maybe that we can do.  Maybe.

I don't think I'm alone. I think the only avenue for change is a glimmer.  Not much to hang our hat on, but let's give it a go.  

Taking the NaNoWriMo Challenge

I have been thinking a lot lately about my future self.  My present self is in desperate need of upgrade and change and breaking free.  This means I've been really trying to get my health in a better place, make my energy levels better, and hopefully be able to increase my overall productivity.

After all, ambition without energy goes nowhere.

So one thing that I have been wanting to do for a very long time is finish writing a book.  I have already written a multitude of essays, short fiction, poetry, articles, and a one-hundred page thesis. What I haven't done is written an entire book.  So, since I have had a goal of writing one particular non-fiction book, I thought I would join the masses, bite the bullet, and become part of NaNoWriMo.

So at midnight tonight I will join some 200,000 people and begin writing 50,000 words in one month.

I had tried this with a novel a few years ago, but had my whole life take over in November, so about two days of writing happened and that was it.

This time, I feel it.

I feel this memoir in me, and I'm going to write it.

And today is the first day toward becoming a professional author.  You know.  That makes money.

That is something I think my future self is going to thank me for.

Don't blame it on your virginity

I am going to say something completely shocking: virginity gets a bad rap.

To give a little background to this, you can blame this latest rant of mine on a provocative Salon.com article My Virginity Mistake by JESSICA CIENCIN HENRIQUEZ.  In this, Ms. Henriquez outlines her devotion to the purity movement as a way of fitting in, and the development of what became her first failed marriage.

The culprit? In her mind, it was abstinence.  As she says:

Had we had sex before our relationship transitioned into a contract, I would have known that there was no passion, no spark, nothing happening between our bodies. I would never have agreed to marry him because sex is a significant part of a relationship and therefore a significant part of our relationship was failing. With the failure of our sex life, I felt like less of a woman, no longer a sexual creature but more of a plant. Sitting there, day in, day out, wilting while I waited for someone to take care of me.

Without having sex before marriage, I blindly walked up an aisle and committed myself to a man who didn’t know me and gave my long-held virginity to someone with whom I had no more chemistry than a second cousin.

However, I believe that this is a complete and utter fallacy. It is so much easier in hindsight to believe that had we taken a different course of action that we would have made a better choice.  Especially since she openly admits earlier in the article that she was 20 years old, and really hadn't built a solid relationship:

The morning of my wedding day, I threw up. Everyone assumed that I was nervous about having sex. I wasn’t. But it dawned on me how much we hadn’t learned yet about one another. We had known each other for three years by this point, but there was so much unexplored territory. So what was I supposed to do when my “aha moment” came as a dress was heaved over my head by seven bridesmaids? Plus, my mother had mentioned no less than 400 times, this wedding was costing them a fortune; I was getting married, there was no way out.

Being 20, and obviously not assured of herself in anyway, she obviously hadn't gotten to know the man she was marrying well enough.  To top it off, she knew the relationship was not going well and had more than just wedding jitters but all of the warning signs that this wouldn't end well.  And she didn't have the maturity to be able to stand up and say I'd rather make this expensive mistake now, rather than having to pay for the wedding and divorce proceedings.

Further, having sex before would simply have been also, giving her long-held virginity to someone unfortunately bad for her. And she talks about how they used to make out all the time, whose to say that even losing her virginity in the back of his Chevy would have ended the relationship?  The problem seemed more a lack of communication. They spent those three years in a sea of hormones but didn't come up for air to discuss anything.

It's far too easy to Monday morning quarterback our mistakes and decide that with this decision it would turn out better, but without a time machine that is completely impossible to predict.  No one knows the actual outcome of the road not taken.  It's the risk we take in life.  And I believe, trading one mistake for another isn't going to do jack.

So the real culprits of her first failed marriage were a lack of maturity and communication.

Blaming virginity is pointless.  The point here should be that sex alone solves nothing.  Relationships are too multi-faceted to rely on one component, and those who want a fully rounded relationship know this.

And there is nothing wrong with believing that our sexuality should be invested in the right relationship as opposed to one-night stands.  If we truly believe in a free society, our sexuality is ours and our body should be ours to do with as we please even when that means waiting for something meaningful. Without being maligned for that choice.

Book Review: Second Suns by David Oliver Relin

When I first received my copy of this book as an advanced reader copy, I had skimmed the cover and dove directly into reading the first chapter.  It was only in a brief moment, when I had set my book aside that I head realized that the author, David Oliver Relin, was dead.

Suddenly, what was once a compelling story, became now also a very bittersweet tale, knowing that while the world now knows the bright and hopeful tales of two doctors, it also is the last story for Relin to tell.

At the end of the book, Relin writes "Some books you want to write. Others you have to write."  You don't have to get farther than the first chapter to realize that there is a sense of destiny that brings the American ophthalmologist Geoffrey Tabin together with his Nepalese counterpart Sanduk Ruit.  Tabin, a bombastic character with a sense of adventure, and Ruit, teaming up to bring eyesight to the blind and innovate surgical procedures to be cheap, believing that everyone should have access to eyesight, not just the privileged.

Through the span of time covered, Relin is very adept at weaving their collective tale as they fight against not just less-than-ideal conditions in remote areas, but also political machinations, in order to ultimately build a base for artificial lenses in Kathmandu that makes it possible for them to spread their practices, and provide sight to people in China and Rwanda.

Some other customer reviews I have seen have argued that Relin's account can get a little tedious at times, and to a certain extent I agree.  However, the profound goodness in these stories covers the majority of tediousness, and Relin overcomes slow points with more engaging anecdotes soon to follow.

All-in-all, a beautiful read that reminds you of the amazing amount of good that can be accomplished to bring light to a world shrouded in darkness.

Things I Don't Get: Time Warner Cable vs. CBS

 If you are like me and live in one of the zones where Time Warner Cable and CBS are fueding, you know that your cable television lineup now no longer includes CBS.

Now, my question is, why don't television and cable executives understand that no good can come of their feud?

Anyone who has any interest in following the evolution of entertainment, knows that the ratings system and structure of broadcast television is changing faster than the antiquated system can keep up with.  Viewers now have options to record or stream content at any hour of the day with many of their favorite programs, or sometimes delay gratification for an entire season and the gobble shows in binge-viewing.  So, needless to say, this does affect an already faulty ratings system that depends upon randomized viewers with boxes recording viewership of live programming.

So, with declining viewership to begin with, what good does it do to play chicken over ridiculous profits? Both sides need to get a clue that the only result will be customers driven away to getting most of their programming other ways.  Either people will get fed up enough that they switch to DirectTV or AT&T U-verse and switch off the cable entirely.  Then once they do negotiate, undoubtedly Time Warner Cable will end up offloading the ridiculous amount that CBS offers onto paying customers who will no longer be able to pay and will quit.

In the meantime, we all have to suffer through radio ads where CBS encourages listeners to call up and demand that Time Warner Cable cave and bring back CBS.  Meanwhile, those of us who have heard the other side, know that CBS is demanding a new contract with a 600% fee increase.  No wonder Time Warner Cable refused to pay.

Normally I wouldn't side with big cable, but when CBS also feels too big to fail as the most watched television network, maybe we all need to reconsider when television and cable networks get too greedy for their own good and send a message to both by fleeing in droves.

For a business model that doesn't want to change, they are only enabling consumers to start an even bigger revolution whether they like it or not.

Book Review: And Sons: A Novel

The great part of getting advanced copies of possible book club selections, is that you get to read literature for free that you might not have read otherwise.  The bad part? That it can sometimes be like that literature class where the professor goes nuts over a piece of literature for reasons you can't comprehend because it just isn't that great.

So it is with And Sons: A Novel by David Gilbert.  I wanted it to live up to the pre-publication hype, but absolutely did not.  So I wrote my very honest reviews for Amazon and Goodreads below.   Enjoy.

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Like many contemporary novelists, & Sons is an attempt to capture many of the feelings we want out of literature. While I had not read any of his other works, it is apparent that author David Gilbert is familiar with larger expectations for complex works by interweaving multiple viewpoints, dealing with darker themes in familial relationships, and throwing in the unexpected. In terms of style and tone, Gilbert does come across as different, unique and fresh.

However, Gilbert’s novel has a few detractors that make it have less of a broad appeal. For the most part it is a study of relationships between reclusive, privileged, New Yorker fathers and sons. While I understand the romance with the New York City life, and reflections of a Woody Allen view of the city, I still am not sure how relatable these characters are on the whole. Adding to the problem, is the bouncing weave of storylines and viewpoints that at times is hard to follow, especially when the father is named Andrew, and the son is called Andy. To confuse matters more, Gilbert drops in copies of handwritten letters that are often hard to read but essential in terms of characters reacting to these letters, and sections of the fictional author A.N. Dyer’s novels. 

As well, the novel comes across to the reader as trying too hard. In the course of building this reclusive author’s character, Dyer’s biggest classical piece of literature is called Ampersand and is constantly compared to Catcher in the Rye. Instead of feeling like a natural comparison, the number of times this is mentioned make it instead feel like that one friend who has gotten to meet a few B-list celebrities, and constantly namedrops at the most casual of dinner parties. Add to this a very preposterous plot twist that is played off as reality, and it feels like the whole novel unravels a bit. While the mildly surprising revelation near the end and the very surprising ending work much better, the middle plot twist feels like the biggest negative and turn that part of the novel into that movie that is hilarious when it wasn’t trying to be funny at all.

While the tone and style are interesting, I found the whole novel didn’t live up to the hype. Probably a semi-interesting read for some, but definitely not what I would consider to be an enduring classic.

It's called a Byronic Hero

My apologies in advance.  I generally don't like to blog and gush about Benedict Cumberbatch, but in this case I must do so to make a point.  You see, I saw Star Trek: Into Darkness and watched the entire Sherlock series, and became instantly hooked. Here you've got an actor who is handsome, if unconventionally so, but whose strength is his ability to really sink into a role.  When he plays the villain in STID, his voice is just low enough to rattle your entire chest cavity. It's like a sound check for subwoofers.  But he isn't a pure evil, but one of a villain who has taken matters into his own hands out of necessity to try to recover and protect his crew.

And when embodying Sherlock Holmes, he is every bit the completely socially-awkward genius.  The Dr. Sheldon Cooper of consulting detectives.  Yet unlike Sheldon Cooper, he is also alluring, enticing the audience one scene at a time with a subtle charm.  While calling himself a "high-functioning sociopath" you find it incredibly hard to believe that his personality is that extreme considering the subtlety of care that Sherlock exhibits to those who he keeps closest.

So, what annoys me about Scott Christian's brief blurb introducing the trailer for The Fifth Estate is this notion of Hero-Villain.  Frankly, there is no such thing.  It just happens to be that as his star is on the rise, audiences have started to transition from "Oh, it's that guy" to actually having a name for this fellow: Benedict Cumberbatch.

What we can surmise is that he's comfortable as both villain and hero, but not as flat, two-dimensional characters. And I believe we would find him far less interesting.  As an actor he is adept at playing complexity and it suits him.

In fact, I believe the part he plays best the Byronic Hero.  Namely, right now his best role has been Sherlock hands down.  I believe that Benedict Cumberbatch has become the poster boy for the modern Byronic Hero.  TVTropes.com defines it well:

Byronic Heroes are charismatic characters with strong passions and ideals, but who are nonetheless deeply flawed individuals who may act in ways which are socially reprehensible, and whose internal conflicts are heavily romanticized. Some of their attitudes and actions may be considered immoral, and their bad actions may be as numerous as those which are heroic, but never are they evil just [just for evil's sake]; some are portrayed with a suggestion of dark crimes in their past, but never enough concrete details to establish that they actually kicked the dog. 

I believe that Benedict Cumberbatch happens to be a phenomenal actor who plays a Byronic Hero well, and audiences lap it up.  And, if the trailer is any indication, he is going to be flat-out phenomenal as the extremely controversial Julian Assange in The Fifth Estate. 

So instead of calling a character archetype a Hero-Villain, let's be much more specific.  Hero and villain can't be just hyphenated and made in to its own archetype.  It comes across as just plain lazy.

It's not like we are unfamiliar with Byronic Heroes.  There is an air of them in many of the major film franchises like the Batman reboots from Christopher Nolan.  Even consider the fantastic qualities of Severus Snape in the Harry Potter franchise.  Dark and brooding, possible villain, or not, or as he turns out to be the ultimate Byronic Hero.  Obviously, the Byronic Hero is here to stay, and it would be really lovely if we could learn the tropes if we are going to discuss them in popular media.

Things I Don't Get: Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo

To get me back in the blogging spirit, I am launching a brand new segment I like to call:

Things I Don't Get

I am happy and proud to be American. I love our independent spirit. When freedoms are taken away I take it a little bit personally.  All that aside, there are many times when I wonder if I was secretly born in another country and planted here, because I just don't understand aspects of my own uniquely American culture.

As a lover of television, I don't have any problems admitting that I watch a lot of television.  I do watch  some unscripted "reality" programming, but I am definitely picky.  When it comes to reality shows, I would much rather watch The Amazing Race, or shows like The Hero over shows that just generally titillate our voyeuristic side.  I like shows that improve lives, like HGTV where they renovate, or Bar Rescue or Restaurant Impossible where dying businesses are given a new lease on life.

What I have yet to understand is a show like Toddlers & Tiaras.  As exploitative and creepy as dressing children up and teaching them to act sexy and dress like adults is in the first place, the broadcast of such a culture on television is opening it up to an even wider exploitation.

However, this one child who they nicknamed Honey Boo-Boo is even more weird of a phenomenon.  Toddlers & Tiaras was apparently too small for her, so they gave her a spinoff show that follows her and her family.

The poor girl is definitely one of the homelier children I have seen.  Everyone should know their strengths and play to them, and while I don't argue that she has some personality that she could nourish with an adequate education, at this point in her life she is not a model.  Yet she is paraded around as though she was the most beautiful little girl in the U.S.

To make matters worse, the whole culture of the show seems to be to highlight bad behavior and the strangeness of her family.  As they ramp up for their second season, I was shocked, grossed-out, and utterly appalled by the ad campaign.  You see, to make you feel like you are truly part of the show, the premiere episode for this season has available a "Watch 'n' Sniff" card.

Because really, who wouldn't want to smell bad milk or fish while watching the episode?

The end of the commercial features Honey Boo-Boo farting, just to class up the whole affair.

Is this what America is all about now? Is this an image that we as Americans want to be proud of?

I just don't get it. It is a massive cultural disconnect.  If that is American culture I feel like a woman completely displaced.

Nerd Hope

Having just returned home from my second viewing of Man of Steel, this time in 3D, I do so from an entirely different perspective.  This round, I managed to read and watch a few interviews with Henry Cavill about landing the iconic role of Superman.

I knew going into the movie the first time that Cavill was a British actor who I had only seen years ago in The Count of Monte Cristo, and that he hadn't been in anything else that I had seen.  Oh, and I thought he looked the part from the production stills.  Probably the most naturally Superman-ish fellow since the childhood days of Christopher Reeve.

What I expected was an interview that revealed a usual handsome fellow.  In the states he would be a total jock from the day of his birth, a dozen babes kissing the hem of his garments.  Since he is from the isle of Jersey, I still expected a typically hot, popular, jock.  Maybe he plays polo or soccer or rugby.  And I have to out myself for journalistic integrity and say that I haven't researched what his background is in sports.  But Henry Cavill is proof positive that you cannot judge a book by its cover.

I have a revelation for you: Henry Cavill is a nerd.

By all rights he would earn honorary nerd street cred by just appearing as the quintessential comic book hero that launched an empire.  But there are actually two other reasons that make him fully-vested as nerd.

1. Henry Cavill was ridiculed for being fat. Looking at Cavill's rippling muscles beneath the iconic suit as well as completely shirtless it seems almost completely preposterous. I mean, when he enters a room, don't women's undergarments just fly off of their own free will?

From beneath an occasionally bowed head of embarrassment, in recent interviews he admits to having been called fat as a kid.  Rather than let that label control him the rest of his life, what did he do? He ate  better.  He turned it around.  

I'm imagining all overweight, self-conscious, prepubescent boys being immediately bolstered by this revelation.  There is hope that they too, may one day, be handsome grownups.  I like that.

2.  He missed the phone call telling him he won part because he was playing video games.  And what video game in particular? Was it Call of Duty? Maybe Halo? Nope.

He missed his phone call, saying he got the part of Superman, because he was playing....

WORLD OF WARCRAFT

I kid you not. 

Total nerd street cred.

So for other gamers like me, suddenly Henry Cavill is just a little bit cooler.  He's not above playing video games and missing hearing his phone ringing.  He's one of us.

Just one of us with ridiculous abs.

It'll be done when it's done

Since no one has heard from me since January, it occurs to me that I have abandoned a crucial and wonderful aspect of my life.  That being this blog.

It isn't as though my roads to *ahem* weren't paved with very good intentions.  But to make this up to you, in a television show style, I shall recap now what has been happening with life and career of Sara Dean, your creative and adorable artist/writer/single gal.

1. I became Layout Editor.

My best friend put together a documentary film about intimate partner violence, and snagged yours truly as layout editor.  In case you are unfamiliar with book processes, like everything else creative,it gets finished when it gets finished.  We are so close now we can taste it.  But it took a few months of collaborating with a whole bunch of people to try and get everything just so with a severe lack of resources.

However, yours truly is also a contributing artist and my work will be featured therein.  Woo-hoo!!

2.  I'm moving to Northern California.  This fact in and of itself has its own crazy stories involved.

 In the process we have had people stand us up for appointments, encountered some really crazy drivers, eaten some tasty food.

More importantly, we discovered that someone really needs to tell the people involved in the rental markets that you can't make a three bedroom place into a six bedroom place and make it comfortable.  People generally don't want to pay that much money for a prison cell no matter how close it is to work and/or university.

So much like the Layout Editor project, there is a timing in the universe.  Want something done quickly? No matter how hard you try, sometimes you just have to accept that it will happen when it happens.  Until then, you muddle through and take each day as it comes.

Pretty sound advice for every aspect of life, don't you think?

Musing About the Muse

Back in the day, when I was feverishly working on the Magnum Opus of my Master's Degree, I covered a very large segment about John Keats.  Like many good poets, he understood the value of Greek and Roman literature and paid homage to the muses.

I used to chuckle to myself at the idea that some magical being would come to a writer, and inspire them to write.  I knew it was likely the influences of drugs or alcohol or other natural or unnatural substances not the divine.

But lately, I've been understanding where they were coming from.

Frankly, I am more like them than I would usually care to admit.

Something has happened at the beginning of this new year.  I am inspired by everything.  My artistic side is busting a move. Today, I spent my Saturday relaxing while I still try to expel the last few dregs of a wretched cold I had a couple weeks ago but that still haunts me.  But the one thing I did not do today, which I have been doing every day for about a week and a half, is draw.  And not just draw, but draw with my new dip pens.

You see, while artists have no specific muse, I believe I might be entertaining a muse in disguise or something.  Maybe she's taking a holiday in California. Maybe it is because I am both a writer and artist? All I know is that not having drawn anything at all today after several days of being on fire has made me jittery tonight.  I feel like I'm going through some sort of addict's withdrawal symptoms just from not having inserted a nib into pen holder, dipped it's perfect tip gently in an ink bottle, and then gliding it across a paper.  But it's late at night and I don't want to do too much before sleep.  So I will merely layout my plan of action for tomorrow.  But I swear, I must work on a little soon or I may go crazy.

The artistic surge is tangible and unavoidable. I feel invigorated and I refuse to back down.

So, my love letter to my muse, my angel, my holy intangible spirit guide whomever you are that is inhabiting my soul, I welcome you.  Please stay.   Your presence is most appreciated and most welcome.   You and I can make the world more beautiful, I know we can!

Proof?  Here:

Work that is coming out of me is blowing myself away.

I feel like I'm on the verge of something amazing.  And that's a really good feeling.

Let my own inner flower unfold!

The Hilarious and the Macabre, Pt. 2

In honor of our beloved Halloween, while I don't really dig horror, I do love ridiculous songs that are both hilarious and macabre. So for your viewing pleasure, here are two songs from my beloved Tom Lehrer. He obviously inspired modern comedy song writers like Weird Al, and has left a legacy of music that I fear many may have missed. Both of these songs are love songs, celebrating love that is a bit more painful. The first is called "The Masochism Tango" featuring a couple that either likes to abuse each other, or a woman who really is trying to off her man...interpretation left up to the listener.


 


The second is the most gruesome. It completely reinterprets the dessert we refer to as "Ladyfingers."




 



Oh, Tom Lehrer, I salute you!

Happy Halloween!