183

SO my mouth works again, which is awesome. I'm also down to 183, which is pretty great.

My work is doing a "The Biggest Loser" competition. Part of me wants to do it. Part of me doesn't want to spend 20 bucks to have everyone at work know how much I weigh... Part of me also fears that if placed in a competition to lose weight that I will develop disordered eating. I just have that kind of personality and I'm not sure I want to test this theory... I'm also real sure that I don't want to tell people at work my that's my reason for not wanting to participate.

In other news, my ex has decided to contact me and be all "why don't you ever talk to me. is it because you still have feelings for me?"

Ugh. I'm going to go clean.

Why We Need Healthcare, and other excuses for me not working out this week.

So I have a tiny baby head.

Let me explain. No, that will take me too long. Let me sum up.

I am an average size (height, anyway) woman. I wear average sized shoes. My ring size is average. Nothing about me, really, would be considered 'delicate'. Except for my head. I am almost 24 and for glasses I shop in the youth section. Also, at the dentist, for the fluoride they put in trays and shove in your mouth and watch you try not to gag and vom for the requisite 2 minutes, I still am given the child size. This should explain why I don't have room for my wisdom teeth.

I should also say right now that while I do still have insurance through my step-mom, and while she does work at a damn hospital, this insurance is terrible. I am very thankful that it mostly paid for the surgery I had to have a year and a half ago, but there's not optical or dental and well, I think I just established that I am 23, have a tiny mouth, and still have wisdom teeth. This is a problem.

A week ago I woke up to find my mouth in a world of hurt. For three days I had pain that made me want to grab a 6-8 month old baby and look into his eyes and say, "I understand" while we shared a teething ring. After those three days my tooth and gums felt mostly fine and the swelling that had previously plagued me has disappeared. Or so I thought until I tried to open my mouth to eat. Between my teeth there was maybe 1/2 inch of clearance. The next 3 days were very interesting.

Do you know how many things you eat on a daily basis require you to open your mouth more than 1/2 inch? If you're an American, I assume just about everything. That's what I found to be true for myself. I stopped working out this week. You try to motivate ourself to do anything but mope and go to work when you can't open your mouth. I did, however, lose 2 pounds. Thanks yogurt and applesauce.

I woke up this morning and could actually yawn, so things are looking way, way up. I celebrated by cleaning the house and eating food you have to chew.

I'm going to get back to working out this week, though. I started on arms tonight. I have a wedding to go to in about 3 weeks, and I picked out my dress tonight. Right after that is when I did my arm workout.

I'm down to 185, which is -2 from my starting weight. I've been hovering really closely to 186-187 no matter what I eat or how much I work out. After my epic workout last weekend I made it to 184, but that only lasted until I ate a solid meal again. I was maintaining at 187 eating pizza about 9 times a week and not working out at all. Any ideas why, now that I've cut calories and started working out, that I'm not seeing a change in the numbers on my scale?

Freshman 15. Post-Grad 47...

I don't remember when I got fat. I have no recollection of how much I weighed when I graduated from high school, and I barely remember what I weighed when I graduated from college. I'm starting to suspect it was a lot more than I thought, because while I thought I was still sitting at that number, people I knew from undergrad have lately been telling me I look like I've lost weight.

Life is a little static right now. I go to work. I work while I'm there. I come home and do pretty much nothing. I am ashamed to say I play both CafeWorld and FarmVille. That's why I'm making a change. Starting last week I am working out. I'm watching what I eat. I am embarking on a journey to better my body while I wait for my next opportunity to formally better my mind.

Here are my stats:

Height: 5 feet, 6 inches

Weight: 187 pounds

Goal Weight: 140 pounds

47 pounds to go. Wish me luck.

Doing My Time

I'm fairly certain that if, at some point in their lives, everyone was required to work in food service, the world would be a better place.

I am a manager in training at a pizza place. On Wednesdays I am the lunch server. One woman vs a 150 max occupancy dining room for a lunch buffet.

Every Wednesday I lose a little more of my faith in humanity. Every time someone sits at a dirty table because they can't be arsed to sit more than 5 feet away from the actual buffet, I roll my eyes. Every time someone leaves me the 3 cents that was their change from paying for their meal, I sigh. Every time a dude winks at me and calls me 'sweetie' I smile, but think about murder.

I know that the economy is in shambles and the world is an uncertain place, but I have this building feeling of resentment. I'm not sure where to focus it, but I am getting pissed that I have a college education and all I'm doing with it is cleaning up after mom groups who ignore their rowdy children while they make a mess of my back room. When they shake a drink at me and demeaningly ask for a refill, I just want to shout "I have a degree! I am an educated woman! Fuck your refill, I make $2.50/hour here to pay off my $30,000 student loan!"

but I don't. I bring them another diet mountain dew and I do it with a smile. $2.50/hour isn't much, but it's better than nothing when you have a mountain of debt looming behind you...

The Age-Old Question...

When we're young, we're often asked, "What do you want to do when you grow up?"

Like many other American children, I was always told I could be anything I wanted to be and as a youngster, I held many ideas about what would occupy the time of Future-Me, as I like to call her. For a while I wanted to be a marine biologist (disregarding my own fears of deep water and disinterest in science), then a vet (see earlier comment on science), then a teacher (even though I never liked children, even as a child) and, of course, a ballerina (I am clumsy and was only called dainty as an infant).

I am 23 years old. I hold a Bachelor of Arts degree in Women's Studies. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

Right now I am visiting one of my best friends from undergrad. He's a second-year graduate student and starting to look for full-time employment at universities here, there, and everywhere. I sat in on a meeting today and really started missing being involved with students, but I'm not sure anymore if I want to dedicate my life to student affairs again. Do I want to spend 2, 4, 6, or 8 more years living in a residence hall and dealing with all of the issues that are bound to happen when you put hundreds of 18-24 year old strangers in a building together? I used to be sure, but now all I know is that I miss being needed. I miss being able to contribute to the creation of something, rather than just cleaning up after other people.

I need to think on this more.

"I'm proud of you"

For the last year I've been feeling rather ho-hum (read: really depressed) about my lot in life. Back in February/March of 2009, my cohort in housing were all offered jobs, either while earning their masters, or bachelors-level, but in the field we all wanted to go into. Except me.

It was a very dramatic time in my life, as I waited to hear back from any school while my friends went on final interviews and school visits. As they were deciding on where, of the multiple places that had offered them jobs, to accept and spend the next 2+ years of their lives, I started getting the rejections. I stopped counting them, but there were enough.

I applied to graduate school on a whim in 2010, deciding that once and for all that I needed to do something about wasting my education on food service. I was rejected. I knew I would be, but it still hurt. Later in the year I decided that if my current bachelors degree was inadequate, then perhaps I should just get another one. This is what I started on Monday.

Its going to take me until 12/11 to get this second degree, if all goes well, grade-wise. I am hoping by the end of BA #2 that I will have a high enough GPA that I can go into graduate school. I will be two full years behind my former cohort. They will have advanced degrees and I will not. Though I am trying to do good by my own future, I'm still feeling low, dumb, and a bit like nothing I do means anything. Or, I did.

Tonight I was talking to a friend I met through student affairs, but who did not attend my undergrad. I feel no need to be better than him, feel no validation in a difference between us. I am ashamed to say that I do with those who went to undergrad with me. I am less than them for not having started a masters yet. I thought everyone felt this way about me, in that way that you think that everything that you do is the norm when you are small, because its all you know.

Tonight, E proved me wrong. I was chatting with him about my homework and he said 4 small words that actually made me cry. "I'm proud of you"

It was like he was validating my very existence. I matter. Someone thinks of me in a positive manner.

I can go on now.

Back in the Saddle Again

I start back to school for my second bachelors degree on Monday. I am nervous and excited. I wonder if being back on campus will give me a sense of calm, of belonging that I have been missing since May 9, 2009. I wonder if I will feel out of place, older than a traditional undergraduate, not old enough to be 'non-traditional". I wonder if I can do it.