Drinking and Softball

And in that order. To start, I figure I should type an update before my wrist swells and I can't type quickly anymore, because that will ultimately be when my brain gets all "write-y" and wants to chronicle. Well, I gotta beat it to the punch. Why is my wrist swollen? Keep reading, my friends.

I'll start with Saturday. I went to what's affectionately known as "Long Beach Coffee" in, you guessed it, Long Beach, California. I was so tired, I think I actually zoned out on the freeway, scarily so. I should have coffee before I drive 30 miles, right? Anywho, it's a WLS support group, and it's always good to see my friends, be supportive of newbies, and certainly I take my share of accolades. Ya know, if I have to.

From there, I had to jet back to the Westside for Shabbat lunch with Mom and others. Had a good time there. Had my first (and possibly last) glass of Scotch. Yech. Then I had to go home.

Was picked up at 6 o' clock by Rachelle, Michelle, and Barbara, to take me out for my birthday dinner. We went to this adorable place in Santa Monica called "Monsoon", and I started the night off with a Grey Goose Poire "Pom" Martini - aka vodka and pomegranate liqueur. The food was good, I had a curry fix. Walked around the promenade for a bit, I bought a fedora at H&M, and all was good.

Michelle and Rachelle were tired, but dammit, I wanted to go out. So Barbara and I went to a place called "The Brig" on Abbot Kinney in Venice, and just, wow. I had a delicious dirty martini followed by Hangar One Keffir Lime Vodka, which was so delicious, I can't even explain. I flirted, I danced, it was really a fantastic night. Then Barbara and I went to her friend Joe's (who apparently likes me), smoked up, and watched "The Dark Knight". This was oddly my first time watching true HD Television, and I was very impressed. The actors were so sharp on screen it looked fake. Then off to Taco Bell (ask me how my "organic food kick" is going, and I'll kick you with hypocritic heels) and home.

Woke up today (no hangover, hallelujah) at 10 a.m., please god WHY? I was going to meet Dan for breakfast, but it ended up with him having to leave too late, and I had a softball game to get to. Yes, I, Shira, played a damn good game of softball today. I hit the ball each time I went to bat, and hit it fairly well. I slid and got covered in dirt, and maybe got some dirt in my stitches. Whoops? Hey, dirt is WAY healtheir than MRSA, right? I'm not too worried. I'm pretty scraped up, my wrist hurts like HELL, and I have a good bruise brewing on my left shin. My ankle hurts a bit too, but it was all completely worth it. I had such a good time running and being athletic and getting dirty. I almost wish I wasn't having my surgery next week. Almost, being the operative word, no pun intended. Because these batwings are coming off!!

Afterwhich, my friend and I went to see "Whatever Works", some parts of which I really enjoyed. Then I went home, showered (two in one day? Too much for me!!), and met my friend Candice for some Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and we caught up on our respective lives.

Whoo, I've been so busy, but I love it! Tomorrow I have a lunch, a doctor's appointment for a research clinical trial, and then off to Mom's. I'm beat! But I have a good week planned, and maybe a date or so, I hope! I just also hope when I wake up tomorrow, my body doesn't completely hate me. But like I said, totally worth it.

Slower Ruminations...

I'm moving very slowly right now. Well, actually I'm in bed, but thanks to some frozen yogurt I just had, I'm also slightly ill. Oh, velvety goodness, why do you turn liquid and nauseate me so? Thank goodness I'm an LA driver - absolute auto pilot, but damn good.

Today was, in the grand scheme of things, a pretty normal day. I wish it had been special, but that requires me to also treat myself specially, and that's not something I'm particularly good at. For example, I have a gift certificate to Bliss Spa here in LA (and NY, but hey, who's checking?). I can't bring myself to use it. It's FREE for me, goddammit, but I can't do it. I need to, but I can't, because it seems so frivolous to me. I'd pay out of pocket for a massage before I'd use the gift certificate, because the spa is so damned overpriced it feels unnatural. So before I spend $0 on a $120 massage, I'll spend $45 on a, well, $45 massage. Make sense? Yeah, didn't think so. I'm sure someone else with a non-sensical sense of neurosis will understand that.

I woke up, puttered, and headed to my Mom's for the afternoon. I printed, and now I'm doing what looks to be a total of 10-15 hours of slooooow tedious bookkeeping for her calligraphy society. It's pretty painful work, all things considered, but I don't actually mind that much, aside from the mind-numbing. After all, she's shelling out a LOT of money on me this year. My surgeries, my bills. I can't exactly complain. But lemme tell you -- this is bo-ring work. But I'll do it with a smile because I'm beyond grateful.

We went to lunch at a place called "Axe" on Abbot Kinney in Venice. Adorable area, I totally love it. The food? I'll give it a C. A very chi-chi organic place, but it just wasn't very good. The organic brownie pudding? That's a friggin' gold star A+. It's in my Mom's fridge, where it absorbed all the warm milk that was surrounding it, and now it's fudge. I eat it very sparingly, so it doesn't knock me out quite like the current dilemma that is frozen yogurt. Motherfucker.

So, lunch with my Mom, and dinner was with my Dad. We went to a different organic-y natural place. I had lamb cheeks for $10.50. Can we say steal? Totally happy with that. Dad, not so much, because his vegan wasn't that filling because it didn't have a solid (read: tofu) protein. But I'm definitely returning, as the prices are right and delicious. Then we had the now oft-mention frozen yogurt, complete with puking in the bushes by the National Charity League. Sorry guys.

So now I'm home. I've had multitudes of birthday wishes (oh, Facebook. You make me feel loved), and today I got a pretty good present. Let me explain.

Last year, early August, I learned the hard way that Xanax and alcohol don't mix. I got into a bit of trouble with security at a club, and, well, that's enough for this blog. Definitely a night I won't forget, considering I don't remember much. Anyhow, I'd left my ring at this girl Heather's house. She finally returned it and I got it in the mail today. Took almost a fucking YEAR of nagging, but to get it in the mail today was fantastic. It's a bit big, I'll have to get it reduced in size, but I'm wearing it anyway.
It's good to wear it again. Maybe it will help me remember where I've come from. Not that I'll ever forget, but I can use the reminder when I'm suicidal over eating 3 extra crackers over a perfect 1 oz.

24 years. Next year will be special. Because for a very long while, I wasn't sure I'd make it to 25, and neither were some other people. But now, I figure I'll at least make it to 30. Or 90. Definitely 90. It'll take me that long to pay off college.

Time to let the sugar metabolize out of my system. Happy Birthday, me.

Quick Ruminations from 23-24

This doesn't feel like a particularly important birthday. 22 was exciting (Hello, gastric bypass). 23 was good (Goodbye, 100 lbs). And 24? I've only lost another 35 lbs, and I can't lose the last 10, which fucking pisses me off. Sure, I graduated college, but I should have done that in 2007, so whatever. I'm very much "in flux" right now, so to celebrate the last years of my life seems silly, as there is so much I feel I need to do before my life is validated.

CSA Day!

Well, before I get to the fun stuff, I will lay out my day. Woke up, got blood drawn, and headed to my Mom's to get my running shoes...which I just realize, I forgot. Fantastic. Then I headed to Costco...which I can never get out under $200. Now I remember why I don't go. $210.54. Vitamins and Splenda took $100 straight off the bat. Sheesh. Well, Dad and I share, right? I also HAD to pick up wild cod at $6.99/lb. I mean, come ON. I may want to buy local, but for that price and it's wild, I gotta have it.
Also got a bunch of raspberries. So tonight's dinner was interesting, because 1/2 of it was from my very first CSA box!!!
















So after Costco, I came home, did whatever, and then went to pick up my new favorite thing, EVER! Here's the official list of what I got, since I had to figure out what 1/2 these things were anyway (okay, just the cucumber and swiss chard, which I had stored somewhere in the back of my brain).

• Zucchini
• Long Neck Yellow Squash
• Nice (Round) Squash
• Blue Kale
• Burgundy Spring Onions
• White Spring Onions
  
• Carrots
  
• Red Beets
• Swiss & Rainbow Chard
• Green Cucumber
• Armenian Cucumber
• String Beans
  

Okay, I'm in heaven. So tonight's dinner was themeless, but had aspects of every food business.

Wild Cod from Costco w/ Penzey's Fox Point Seasoning (Fox Point Seasoning INGREDIENTS: salt, shallots, chives, garlic, onion and green peppercorns. It is very garlic-and-chivey with certain saltiness, it includes freeze-dried shallots, chives, and scallions, making it fresh-tasting and light, and very green. It probably most resembles a dry vegetable dip packet - indeed they've got a recipe for a vegetable dip right on the container.)
Steamed Beets from CSA w/ Balsamic Vinegar Drizzled On
Swiss Chard from CSA w/ garlic, olive oil, and red pepper flakes. Not my favorite vegetable, but not bad. I should get used to it, apparently it's popular in CSA boxes.
Quinoa from TJ's

For Dessert

Protein Donut
Raspberries from Costco

So I'm stuffed. But it's friggin' awesome.

July 8th!

So, I'm TOTALLY excited. I got my next surgery date, July 8th. That's in 2 weeks. YAYAYAYAYAY! I feel good, I feel happy, all that fun and joyful stuff.

Food, Inc...

I saw an incredible movie last night, entitled "Food, Inc". A scary expose on the American food industry. Suffice it to say, I never want to eat again. Not that I'm not, but it seems impossible to breathe without encouraging our food to be more of a conglomerate than an item that allows us to live. In fact, it is as basic as air, but it's become more like Perriair, via "Spaceballs".

Since watching it, I want to give this "doing something for myself" a whirl, and that means a meager attempt at eating better from a holistic perspective. I have the "eating better" concept down pat, but maybe I can try to eat things that don't have as long a chain. I've since joined a CSA, where on Wednesday I pick up a box of whatever's on the farm, in terms of fruits and veggies. Sounds good. I also found a local organic free range chicken farm, and I think I'll head out in the next few weeks and pick myself up a chicken (or 3). I found a cattle ranch, but I don't think I can commit to 1/2 cow at this point. I like the idea of buying things that haven't traveled 1,000 miles and have a longer food chain than "cow-grass".

I still feel like maybe what I do won't matter, but today, and at this moment in my brain, I like it. Give me a few hours, I'm sure I'll become complacent, cynical, and bitchy. Speaking of which, I just realized I haven't gotten my period in almost 3 months. And no, I'm not pregnant. Hm, do I even WANT to know what my body is like hormonally these days? I'm sure the skin removal sent it all wacky. Not that it was ever non-wacky, but still.

Today I went to the dentist, and then Lauren (my dentist) and I went out to a fuckin' incredible lunch at this Turkish place next door. A bit salty, but GAH, I love lamb. Then I went to my Mom's. I had brought my exercise clothes with me, and I tried to jog, but the jiggling and the scarring didn't get along so well. I did 1.75 miles, including a stop at the bank, in 40 mins. I definitely need to work on that. However, I can tell I need to work on my strength training, because my hip flexors are going to shoot me soon. Stupid flexors.

Then I went to a wine tasting with Michael, the contractor on our house. I've known him for years, and he's a shameless flirt who has a slightly-too-serious crush on me, but what can I do? Oh yeah, go have wine. But he knows I have zilch interest, but I still get treated like a princess. Could be worse.

And now I'm tipsy, 10% of my calories thus far have come from alcohol today, and that is all. I did, however, feel safe enough to drive home. I'm not THAT kind of tipsy. And anyone who knows me knows I would never drive home drunk. EVER. And that is all.

Nerd.

So, I'm watching/listening John Hodgman wax poetic about nerdiness and other things at the Radio and Television Correspondents Dinner. I definitely fall into the "nerd" category. And I'm usually okay with that. I really take my dorkiness and like it.

However, tonight reminded me...of when I dislike it. Some people could mix that up with the term "stuck up bitch", for the evening.

Quick premise - a girl I went to high school with who brings "diva" to life, is going to Israel for a few months. Whoop de doo. She had a going away party (probably still going on) at a karaoke bar in Los Angeles. I wouldn't have gone except my friend Michelle felt she had an obligation to attend and asked if I would go with her. Ended up being her and some others of the "old crowd" in attendance.

I don't think I've been so miserable in a long time. Sure, I got up and sang "Don't Stop Believing" on request with the others. I let Michelle lead me in swing dancing. But frankly, I would have rather been clawing someone's eyes out. Maybe it was just the atmosphere (oh look, people I don't know with people I could give two shits about, except for 4, who I prefer to spend time with...NOT in this atmosphere), or maybe I'm PMS-ing, or maybe I just needed to eat. Either way, I am not happy.

And what makes it all the more interesting is how much I dislike myself for disliking tonight's events. I feel like I should like it. And when I get unhappy, especially in places like this, my over-intelligized pretentiousness comes out in a conversation like this, with some guy who came with a guy I used to know in high school.

Guy (to me and others): All the girls are outside taking a picture, if you wanted to go.
Me: Oh, thank you, but I'm not a girl, I'm a lady.
...5 seconds later
Me: Sorry, I just usually have to pinpoint something interesting, it continues the conversation, if you will.
Guy (highly annoyed): You shouldn't categorize yourself like that.

Yeah. I miss the people with whom I could have hours of conversation based solely on the social context of "girl" versus "lady". I realize that it is not a "NY vs. LA" thing, but a "dive bar vs. lounge" or "tacky/white trash vs. sophistication", or something like that. I've been known to be in a dive bar and enjoy myself, but god, I hated tonight. I didn't even drink, I was that miserable. Jesus.

A Size 4 is NOT FAT...

But that's a moot issue. Yes, I have in my possession a pair or bermuda-length, gray pin-striped shorts from The Gap in a Size 4. Yes, they fit. Yes, that's all dandy and exciting. However, I am still fat. I look in the mirror and see a girl who is a size 12+. Not that that's a bad size. It's just the size I see myself as, and in my pathetic excuse for a brain in the wee hours of Friday a.m., that's fat. Not just fat, but going back to morbidly obese fat.

You see, I haven't been eating perfectly. And when that happens, all hell is liable to break loose. Today's stats...

Calories		1,870
Fat	58.9	525	28	%
Saturated	21.9	195	11	%
Polyunsaturated	3.7	33	2	%
Monounsaturated	9.1	80	4	%
Carbohydrate	219.6	845	46	%
Dietary Fiber	34.4
Protein	121.0	487	26	%

Add in 1 small piece of whole wheat apple cake, 1/2 piece of flan, 1 cracker, a handful of tostitos, and a couple grapes. Can we say munchie? And naturally, munchies = failure. Because that's what this is to me. Failure. I may as well settle back and gain back all my weight. Why do I bother when I can't control myself? I feel like I've always been a failure, isn't it nice to be a size 4, give it up, you'll always be fat and a failure and I should die. Yes, in my world, any failure is automatic death. In fact, it's times like these I wonder if I should have died so long ago, better than being a failure.

While re-reading my words illuminates the idiocy of my own subconscious, it doesn't make it feel any less important and valid. I wish I could say "I read that, how stupid, bedtime!", but it doesn't. I see it objectively, and I know it's ludicrous, but at the same time, it's painful. A searing pain inside me that wants to crawl out and bitchslap me across the face.

I know my body's going through a lot right now. But I was given clearance to exercise, so why haven't I? Why am I being lazy? Just because I might be depressed and bored doesn't give me license to be a failure.

I give up on trying to write this out. After all, I think there's a limit on self-hatred before 5 a.m. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

I have MRSA!

And so do you!

Yeah, remember those nasty infections I had 1.5 weeks ago? We cultured 'em, and guess what? MRSA! Apparently if we've ever been in a hospital, or touched someone who's been in a hospital, we have it, and my little buggers got into me somehow and wham bam!, infection. So the antibiotics I was on didn't do shit because um, they couldn't. So my body fought it off all by itself, YAY! I'm not dying! I'm not my own personal episode of HOUSE. Damn, I was sort of looking forward to Hugh Laurie fondling me. What, you know you all thought it too.

So that's my life, I guess. Yesterday I went to Mom's and did some work, then back home. Oh, Michelle and I saw "The Hangover", and I have to say, I really enjoyed it. I also enjoyed my kid's popcorn, and I believe my ass is enjoying it today. I do like my salt. Ah, bloat. And then I said "eh, fuck it" and had lots of crackers and cream cheese and some chocolate-covered raisins and...yeah. It goes into my "infection-fighting" stockpile of calories. Of course, I'm TOTALLY clear to exercise now. Which is why I'm sitting in bed writing. Gosh, I hate exercise. I'm sure once I'm back IN it, it's good. You know what they say, it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. Um, can I start IN 21 days?

Time to drag my ass...around.

The Dinner!

After a few days of mental planning, 1 hour of shopping/prep, 4 hours of cooking and baking, and another 45 minutes in cleanup, I present the pictorial of my 10 person dinner (including me) for my father. I had to do the cleanup, because even if he DID do it, he would do it badly and things would be yucky. You know what the say, "if you want it done right, do it yourself". Ugh. However, I rocked it.

We started with hors d'oeuvres in the living room, of cheese, nuts & olives, and crackers.

We began dinner with an arugula salad dressed with extra virgin olive oil, lemon, and freshly grated parmesan.

Soup was French lentil, and while it becomes slightly "dry", the flavor was very good. I topped with a dollop of creme fraiche.

Dinner was my usual roast chicken, in this case, two. Hey, if you do it well, stick to it, right? Also were roasted vegetables, specifically red & green peppers, eggplant, and zucchini. Again, I actually impressed myself. Also for dinner was whole wheat couscous flavored with cumin, cinnamon, and honey. Really, cumin is the awesomest spice there is.

Dessert was a whole wheat apple cake (I was so worried about it!) and mixed berries.

I have to say, I'm impressed with myself. It was a challenge, especially with timing (would the chicken dry out?!), but it worked out great. I don't know if i would have been able to do this 2 years ago when I was heavier. My back hurts, and I assume tomorrow I will definitely wake up somewhat sore and tired from tonight. Fortunately, it doesn't look too painful of a day. Some envelope printing at Mom's and then my 10-year elementary school reunion. Wow, time flies.

Zoey left tonight. Melissa came and picked her up and I miss her. But, Melissa was such a doll and gave me $50 to Saks Fifth Avenue as a thank-you gift. Oooh, dangerous territory, YAY! I mean, I did save her about $700, but boy did I love it! Looks like I have some shopping to do now. Gee, darn. Such a rough life.

Right now, despite all the tiredness and usual "why is my Dad like a toddler who needs to be watched and followed with a Clorox wipe" type frustration, I feel good. I feel weak in muscles but strong in spirit. Gosh, that sounds so corny I want to gag myself, ha. I guess that means it is bedtime, when I get sappy.

Business and Dad

Great. He wants to expand the business. Mind you, it's not exactly on the up-and-up, and he's not exactly mentally stable.

This "business" is of buying and selling cars. My Dad learned that one our tenants does it but didn't have financial backing, so BOOM, Dad was on it. Sure, here's $4,000, go buy a car or two. I love how there is always cash for what's important to him, but never for anyone else. I shouldn't complain TOO much, I am getting my surgery, but still.

It's more frustrating than anything. He wants to expand. I'm fine working on it here in LA, but I'm not comfortable with him giving money to people in other states, or even outside this small area we're working in. And he's determined. He trusts everyone implicitly, and this is of course how he's been so stupid and lost so much money. It truly makes my blood boil.

And when I say I'm not comfortable with it, I get the "we need to eat" lecture. And then when I point out the illegalities of stuff, "Don't make me sound like a bad guy, Shira". Right, because it's personal now? Gee, I thought it was business. He doesn't realize that when you buy a car, you need to transfer the title. Well, we've been lucky in finding cars with stupid owners, but last week, my Dad unwittingly bought a new car. Hello, DMV, look what WE are doing. He doesn't understand the red-flag raising. Or that people won't change their insurance before we buy their car, because his insurance is the "best" for liability. Ummm, no. Jesus H. Christ.

I feel like crying, because this is yet another example of watching him be so foolish.

Parties and Rest (Again)

So I'm beat, huh?

Gosh, what has even happened the last few days? *checks calendar*

Oh yeah, ha. I had a lovely date with Dan on Friday night. We went to Jack Sprat's on Pico, and DAMN, their hamburger was amazing. You know how you expect plain meat? This was herbed yummily. And their sweet potato fries were great. And so was my flourless chocolate cake, of which I ate three bites and TOTALLY took home.

I should be seeing him again this week. I like him, I'm just waiting to see if there is really some chemistry, ya know? But we shall see. This week is takeout/movie at his place. He drives a far way to see me, I figured the least I could do was drive to his area this week. I'm so darn considerate!

Saturday morning's craziness started at 7:30 a.m. (Emily, this was the only day in recent memory that has been so crazed!). Drove Dad to airport bus, got home - Teresa, our marvelous housekeeper from days gone by came to my house and cleaned the kitchen to within an inch of its life. It's SO clean. It's so nice to be proud of my home for the first time in a long time, because my father is THAT much of a slob.

The water was turned off for awhile, so cleaning was slightly more difficult because we're putting in a new shower downstairs. After the construction crew came in, and Teresa came in, I started the errand show. I don't think I even remember what I did right now. Oh wait....no.

Went to Trader Joe's in the afternoon (around 4) and bought out the place. Nuts are friggin' expensive, but I needed mixed nuts for the party, and then I also needed walnuts for a cake I'm making tomorrow and also some pistachio meats. Bang, $15. Sheesh! Got some cheeses (Brie, Herbed Goat, and Gouda), and my mom brought over all the wine around 1. When I got home from my morning errands (what did I DO?), she was there with the wine. She came over to get some stuff from the attic. Because like me, she prefers to do things when Dad's not around. Sad, really. I wish he wasn't so oblivious. Tonight I walked in to the kitchen and overheard him leaving a message for a woman he liked. He was suggesting they go on a cruise, after the FIRST DATE. How does he not recognize his own idiocy in social conventions? Ugh. So frustrating.

Anyway, the party went well. Only 3 people came, which sucked, but I'm glad they came. It was good to catch up with my friend Rachelle, and Barbara and Tzviah as well. Tzviah is a woman from my shul, and I keep forgetting she's younger than me! She's married and loving it, but that night, it was so great to get to know her as any normal person. I can't help it, we automatically associate things in our brain, and I associate marriage with being more conservative. So be it.

Barb and Tzviah left at one, and 1-2-3, I crashed. This morning, I awoke, and UGH. Now I know why I don't drink much wine. Stupid sugar. Then I pulled it together and headed to my HS reunion.

Most people didn't recognize me, and most people I knew weren't there, so it was highly uneventful. My principal was THRILLED to see me, however. Or, 1/2 of me, as she pointed out. She was such a doll.

Then I came home. And went to sleep. I knew I wasn't feeling well, and there was the thermometer, 99.9. Obviously very minor, nothing to fret about, but still annoying, given I'd just gotten over a fever. I've since been chugging liquids and trying to eat, given that I have no appetite. I get really bad gas from the Mission Tortilla Carb Plus! tortillas, but they're SO good anyway. So yeah, my GI system is in "hate" mode. Whoops.

And now I'm making cholent, a traditional beef stew with beans and barley, because I've had a craving since I was in Running Springs with my shul a few weeks back. I'm letting some beans "quick soak", and then I just brown some meat and let it simmer for 12-15 hours, if not more. SO good. Hopefully mine will turn out well.

Tomorrow, I have to cook for 8 people, my Dad's having a business dinner. Thankfully, nothing too painful for me. Just have to roast some chickens and bake a cake. And then prep, but my Dad can do everything BUT the actual cooking. Ha.

Also, tomorrow, Zoey goes home. I'll miss her so much.

Oh, and this is what I wore for my party. Of course, now I think I look fat. Head, get with the program.

Brr, CA!

It's been cold in LA. Meaning, my legs are cold in my miniskirt at 9 a.m. Like, fall cold. Did Mr. Sun not get the memo this year? It's SUMMER. Technically, we have to wait 'til June 21st or something, but dammit, where is it? I finally look good, excuse me, it's time to show off my legs (not thighs), but legs.

Last night I went to see Dame Edna's My First Last Tour at the Ahmanson Theatre here in LA. I was invited by Tzviah, a beautiful woman my age who married the brother of my friend Sarah, with whom we were also all involved at our shul. (Shul = Synagogue). Anyway, she's a doll, and invited me to come with her and others to wait for free tickets to Dame Edna that they do on Opening Night. Who knew?

So I met this guy Boaz who likes to "run" these sorts of activities for our age group. People who want to do fun things, so why not? It's a perfect group for me.

I was supposed to carpool with Boaz, but a 1-hour nap turned to 2 hours, so whoops. Got from West LA to Downtown in about 55 minutes, which is NOT bad in rush hour traffic. I need to learn the streets anyway.

It took me awhile to warm up to this kind of comedy, but once I relaxed, I enjoyed it. Would I go again? Not so sure, but it was still worthwhile, absolutely.

Tonight I look at cars some more, and tomorrow I do envelopes and have a date with Dan, we'll see how it goes. I'm also looking forward to washing my hair tonight and seeing how it looks tomorrow. They can never style my hair curly at a salon, it never looks right. Tomorrow will be the true unveiling. I did chop off about 4 inches. I'll post a picture (depending on what it looks like). My hunch is he cut it too short, but my hair grows fast, so I'll just have an awkward phase.

A Good Cry

As I sit here with a cup of pomegranate juice that has been laced with cannabis, I want to write. Granted, I've only had a sip, so this writing is not spurred by a high of any sorts, but the frustration of my day.

It started glorious. I woke up feeling great, no fever, no nothing, just feeling good. Did an errand, got a haircut, went to do some envelopes for Mom, all good.

And then it went downhill. In my Mom's place, there is no privacy, so I am essentially forced to overhear my parents battle out the finances, and that's very uncomfortable for me. I have serious anxiety attacks over my family finances, because they're so damn screwed up. And then, my Dad calls. "You're not doing your job" with the stupid car business. And I snap. He says "If you want to not do it, that's fine, but if you're gonna do it, do it".

Right, because the "We need your help or we'll die and you can go live with your mother if you won't help me" lecture I got two months ago never happened. It must be nice to have a completely selective memory.

I get hope and just start yelling and crying, about how stressed I am, and of course my Dad's commentary doesn't help. "Why are you stressed?" Um, I'm 23, I have no life, I'm depressed, I'm trying to figure it out, I'm scared I won't go to grad school, I just had two infections and one fever, and I'm sort of exhausted here? But alas, Dad just can't understand. Oh, I wish he could, but he's literally mentally incapable of such. It's not his fault, but it's still unfair.

Then I went to go food shopping. While I was there, still wiping my tears, I get a call about a job I applied for teaching so-called Hebrew School but from an almost completely secular perspective. It intrigued me as a teacher, as a psychologist, as a Jewish woman. I honestly don't know what I said on the phone, but she said she'll call me back. We spoke for 30 minutes, and I think it would be a great challenge and learning experience for me. We'll see.

Dr. Aboolian acknowledge that he's a "nagging Jewish mother", because he only wants one thing of me - to eat. Yeah, when I get anxious, I sort of lose my appetite that I didn't have in the first place, so um...its 10:30-ish at night, and I'll be up 'til 1 scarfing food down, I'm sure. I think I have 1,300 calories to get in? Whoops. Can I get a B- for effort? Still getting the work done, just not well. To me, a C+ is failure, so I think a B- will do in this case.

I have spanikopita, I think I'll make a 5 minute cake, and that's all for the night.

The Tonys!

I get excited every year for the one night of the Tony Awards! Granted, I was supposed to go to a gospel choir thing with my Dad (hey, we all suffer for parental quality time), but my 100.3 fever took the spot and I stayed home, suffering instead.

But I did get to watch my Tonys. And Neil Patrick Harris, you did a great job. But CBS? Someone needs to work on technical difficulties.



Oh, fever? Yeah, I sort of died. Whether it's infection related or not, fevers and aches do not bode well with me.

If you read this, or you've met me, you can understand I'm not a very relaxed person. In fact, I'm one of the only people who I know who uses pot to bring me "normal" levels. I'm a "Woody Allen Jew". Neurotic as hell and overly energetic. I like it personally.

And that is all.

My father went to the "dispensary" today, and he's all excited to be stoned when he comes home. Oh, parents. They're just like children.

But before naptime...

I'm taking an afternoon nap after this post. I got up early to go to the Ella Moss/Splendid sample sale. Did great! Two cute Ella Moss dresses (one "perfect", one needs a cardigan, which YAY, I found too...), and 3 Splendid shirts. SO soft. My Mom wasn't sure if we should go this morning but um, as long as I'm not dying, right? I also finally found a website (a woman waiting in line gave me the tip this morning) that lists all LA sample sales. I'm doomed, officially. Which means I'm gonna need more than a job. I'm gonna need a sponsor.

Speaking of what feels like my impending death on my friggin' hips, I'll give the full story.

5:00: Shower. I notice red bump. Naturally begin worrying cycle. Text Dr. Aboolian and call.
5:45: Meet Dad for dinner at [what used to be] my favorite restaurant, Souplantation. It's a buffet, but we had a 2-fer, so it wasn't like I would be overpriced. Worrying left me with little appetite, and to make things worse, the cornbread with honey butter I loved SO much as a younger me, just isn't as good as I remember. The brownie muffin was, but I only let myself have a bite of that. You would too.
6:45: Temple with Dad
7:15: Crying hysterically with worry and leave services. Call Cindy to meet me at home.
7:45: Home. I cry. I talk. I'm so glad she was there.
8:00: No reply from Aboolian, so I go "Fuck it, use the answering service".
8:03: On my way to Aboolian's office with Cindy. He had a Lower Body Lift surgery that day, and those run late. Hell, mine took 11 hours!

So he looks at it, goes, in a nice non-profanity way, WTF? "I saw you here yesterday, it was fine!" Yeah, tell me about it. We drained the infection, and he told me to eat 2,00 calories a day and up my veggie/fruit intake. Remind me to work on that today...salad at dinner! I'm going to CPK for a date. *scans menu* Mmm, chopped salad.

Oh, back to my life. I'm frustrated. It finally hit me last night WHAT I've been through, and it hasn't been easy. It's also scary to not be responding to a litany of antibiotics. I've been on a total on 4 different antibiotics and of those, been through 5 rounds in almost 3 months. Granted, you automatically take 3 for surgery, then I had the wound opening (+1), infection (+1). The last one is Amoxycillin, a very powerful antibiotic. You'd think it would kill this damn infection, but nope. They cultured it to see what it is exactly, so if it comes back, we'll know how to kill it. Better yet, can we make me a vaccine? But don't forget to test it on an animal first (sorry, PETA).

So that was rough. But, thankfully, it doesn't hurt. It's annoying, I'm SICK of ABD pads (very absorbent, thick pads that I've had to adhere with tape). Oh, tape. I'm also allergic/sensitive to many medical tapes. I finally found one that doesn't leave my delicate white skin so friggin' red. Or, as Dr. Aboolian prefers, my "Ashkenazi pale skin". Hahaha. So true.

Anyway, I'm also feeling fine. I'm tired today (I also woke up early and spent most of yesterday in anxiety, so that can explain it!), but other than that, the usual pep and energy, and I'm beyond grateful for that.

Today I put in an order for ProCare, apparently a not so happy tasting but really good at healing supplement. I read the studies. But $122 for two canisters? That's 50 scoops altogether, I need to take 3 a day, so this will last me...17 days? Oy. But if it's a true miracle worker, I guess it's worth it. Beats regular infections, right? Apparently it's formulated for the bariatric patient, blah blah blah...I'm just sick of being sick in the hips. So down it I will. Ugh, I get nauseous thinking about it.

So that's that. I'm deciding what to wear tonight for a first date. I'm thinking my T-shirt dress from American Apparel. In finding a picture to post with this, the model's face is just priceless. Who TAKES these pictures?!

I'm happy to have Zoey, she makes my life much more fun and relaxing. I need to bathe her, but I've been warned she's not a fan of baths. However, to get her bathed would be rather expensive, it seems. Blech. I guess I'll buy some dog shampoo tomorrow and bathe her, 'cause she needs it.

Oh, and for obvious reasons, my next plastic surgery date has been postponed. I hope no more than 2 weeks!

And Then It Imploded

How implosive? *sigh*

Firstly, I ordered the wrong printer for my Dad, had a panic attack over it, lots of stress. He doesn't panic about these things. I do. Bad.

So that's that. I go shower today, get out...and look, another infection.

Yes. ANOTHER infection. Localized. I freaked. I barely had an appetite at dinner, and frankly, today's just a bust, calorically. Too tired to even think about what I need to eat. And Dr. Aboolian wants me up to 2,000 calories now, and up my veggies and fruits. *sigh*

So I panic, naturally. A little red bump, 3 inches to the left on my, well, left hip infection...*sigh*

Time to sleep. So tired.

Date with Dad and My Left Hip

I just had a really great introspective evening with my father. I admit, it involved on my part, 1 Vicodin and several hits of marijuana. On his side, 1 Vicodin, 2 hits of marijuana, and a small glass of wine. So we were rather calm, as I'm sure you can imagine.

I learned about his first and second wives, his life with them, his divorces, Liza (my half-sister), and more. He spoke about the life he had before I knew him, including the cult that he was a part of for 15 years. Just fascinating. He opened up completely, and I got to know a little bit more about who he was.

I still can't get a maid, but I wiggled my way into getting therapy, so HOLLA. But in reality, I
gotso much more out of it than anything tangible. I learned about my Dad, how he's a sap for dogs (Zoey, who's staying with us, is sort of the cutest thing ever...There she is on my phone pic, we'll have to do a photo shoot one day).

Continuing on...it was just amazing. He opened up. He admitted his mistakes. I was able to relieve some anger from some events in my childhood (carob cake at 4? Ew), as well as express my earlier hatred for him. I didn't fear retribution or anger during this conversation. I felt comfortable, and learned quite a bit. I feel closer to my Dad now, I feel like I know about who he IS as a person, the crazy life he had before he had me.

So WOW on that perspective. While I'm writing, I guess I should update the rest...

My left hip.

I developed a "Localized Infection" and boy did it hurt. I saw him Tuesday at 8 a.m. and he squeezed it all out (I hope!) and it...yeah. He said he's only seen an infection this late in the game ONCE before. I'm talented. I'm also allergic to neosporin, which sucks, but my right hip does seem to improve quite a bit now that I'm not putting on neosporin.

No one know how I'm handling this quite so well. But I did sign up for this. I never honestly THOUGHT I'd have any complications - I'm 23 and quite healthy, but I did. And they aren't life threatening and I have confidence in my doctor, so get better I will.

Lots of resting. Even though Dr. Aboolian never says "rest" probably 'cause he knows better with my personality type, I'm doing a lot of it. My Dad bought me this bed desk. Gosh, it looks ugly in the picture, but it's actually quite nice and oh so thoughtful (okay, I sent an email to my parents telling them to buy me SOMETHING of the sort, and he was right on it).

Like I say, he can be quite adorable when his Asperger's isn't making him a complete narcissistic asshole.

So lots of resting. TV online. Eventually I'll start reading again. I go through phases and I'm in the computer one right now.

Back to Dad. He's getting old. And he's actually coming to realize it. (He admits its stoned, but that's the truth, ya know?). It's hard to watch, but he's getting up there. I love him so much.

I also made Michelle's 5-minute cake tonight. Um, YUM. Holy crap. It's so dense, but so good. I also calculated my protein powder costs $1 a scoop. Sounds cheap, but not really. But it's so fucking good. Tonight I made a protein shake with milk, protein, 1/2 banana, and some Torani SF Raspberry syrup. I was drinking dessert, so delicious.

I ate 1,700 calories tonight. It scares me. But I suppose it's progress. Okay, bedtime again. I love that I update in the middle of the night after I pee. Ha.

Complication, Part Deux

So I have an appointment with Dr. Aboolian on Thursday, but it looks like I'll be making my way over there ASAP tomorrow morning. Guess who has a sac of fluid built up in her left hip?

Oh, to make it easier on everyone:

Left Hip - Good Hip
Right Hip - Sutured

So now that my right hip as been put back together, apparently my left hip felt left out of the fun. I took pics and sent them to Mel (she's a nurse and I take full advantage of her occupation), and she was like "if it gets worse at all go to the ER". Yeah right, but I will have to get this baby aspirated tomorrow morning.

I'm highly frustrated, it's annoying, and as much as I know it's not my fault, I'm still pissy, 'cause it hurts! Well, it's starting to anyway. I'd post a picture, but I know my reader(s) are squeamish.

In other news, um, Meghann and I are talking again. I missed her, ya know? I missed calling her and just gabbing out life and nonsense. We're moving on. Forgive and forget, because it's just not worth it, we love each other that much. So I'll see her Saturday.

I'm also dog-sitting this week for a 120 lbs Burmese Mountain Dog! Boy, does he pull me around the block.

Just kidding....yeah, like I could dog sit THAT right now.

Instead, I have Zoey, who's a powderpuff of Adorableness. She just likes to sleep and cuddle. Just like me. I take her outside for 2 minutes and she does her business. Nice and prompt. And then it's back to playtime and sleep. Definitely a dog after my own heart. It's nice to have a dog again, even for short periods. She's very comforting to hold and to pet, and well, y'all know how it is. She'll definitely have a photo shoot before she goes back to Melissa, her owner.

Basically what happened is this. Melissa moved to Newport Beach, and I hadn't seen her in 9 years. We're chatting, and she mentions she's putting her dog in a kennel while she goes east next week. Now, I've only seen her once in 9 years, but screw that. "Zoey can come stay with me". And it's perfect. She hangs out with me and soothes me and makes this bed rest not quite so painful.

Michelle and I went to dinner tonight (last night? LOL), and had yummy food. She says she's never seen me eat so much, which is awesome progress. I felt good and satisfied.

Then I went to stalk my cousin Adrienne, who I've always adored and SUCKS at staying in contact with people, and it was SO good to see her. She's just awesome. And beautiful. I can't wait to hang out with her in the future.

So tomorrow looms. I guess I get aspirated, then go to the pharmacy for more supplies (wheee *sarcasm*), then to my Mom's to do work for her. I hope she takes her aspirin. MAN does she get bitchy when she has a headache. No seriously, it's like superbitch. I love my Mom, but it's cooooold.

Also, according to the balance scale, I went down to 138.5. Huh. The more I eat, I lose. Fascinating. I'm hoping to eventually work my way up to 1800 cals/day, but I need to get comfy with 1600 first. And then once I start exercising, maybe 2000 cals/day. My brain is telling me "NO NO NO NO", but I know it's the right thing to do. Health is important. Can't let my crazy get in the way.