Sunday, April 29, 2007
The morning of Queens Day those crazy Dutchies get up at the ass crack of dawn and have the hugest country wide garage sale ever known to man. It's freaking crazy. Last year I just went in the neighborhood to have a look around and was blown away at the hoards of people out looking for a bargain. There are street vendors everywhere, little kids playing instruments outside of their parent's "stores" to make some pocket money... it's extremely busy.
The selling continues throughout the day but somewhere in the middle turns into a huge block party. There is drinking, dancing, DJ's, drinking, eating, dancing, Dutching, drinking, boating while drinking, drinking, pissing in the canals while drinking, drinking and drinking. This continues into the wee hours of the morning.
We rode through the city tonight, the night before the action happens, and saw that some people have already marked their territory (not by peeing on them which could be interesting but by drawing in chalk their square of space and writing their name in it or hanging up flags) to do their selling in. Some people even camp out in their desired spot.
We're looking for a cart to attach to our bike to carry our "kid" around in. Scooter doesn't bode well in bike baskets (probably because I dropped him out of the basket about 5 times in as many minutes but nobody knows for sure) so we need one of those little cart things so he can come along on family rides. We went tonight to see if anybody was out selling early.
We didn't come across any puppy cart but we did run into some interesting characters. One drunk man was dancing with his bike in the middle of the road. It was a cross between a two step and an interpretive dance. Mildly interesting but very entertaining.
Another drunk man proclaimed his love for me after I had to ring my bike bell in order to warn him that I was about to run over his drunk butt. "Sorry sweetie! I love you!" he yelled as I swerved past him.
It wasn't the drunkenness that impacted me tonight though so much as the DJ's that were spinning in the city center. The very first place we stopped was AWESOME. The DJ's were up on this really high platform that went across the whole street and the street below was crowded with people. (We also spotted these famous Dutch singers that I just cannot stand, but it was cool there were famous people there). It was a mix of thumping club music but with a live singer and live saxophonist. I LOVED it. It immediately brought me back to the days of ole when I would dance until the ugly lights came on in the clubs.
I wished my friends could have been there. I immediately saw a guy who reminded me of TJ. I saw plenty of people that Keith and I could have judged. There was unlimited amounts of people that Josh could have swore were talking about him.
I would have even joined in and danced had I been dressed more appropriately. I wasn't expecting to run into such a fun place but I just knew my over sized Lisa Loeb T-shirt over my sport carpi's and my flip flops weren't fit for this scene.
So instead of joining in on the fun we watched from the sidelines a bit and then walked away. I hopped on my new bike, complete with basket and rode off with my husband. It was getting late.
And this is the part that impacted me...who is this woman that I've become? It was getting late? It was 9:25 for Pete's Sake! I rode off on my bike with my basket? Where the hell am I living? Mayberry? It just amazes me how much my life has changed in the last 3 years and what a different person I've become. It's not a bad change... just a dramatic one.
It amazes me the power that music has to transport you not only to another place in your life but sometimes to a whole other life altogether.
I have been sick since we arrived home from the US. I'm actually still not well today but I'm freaking tired of bring unwell and I'm sooooooo over staying in this house.
It's been a strange illness. In the span of a few hours my head with go from totally stuffed-unable to breathe through my nose, to my nose running like a faucet until I have to stuff tissue in them looking like a walrus, to having itchy ears that can only be cured by sticking my finger in my ear and shaking it forcing me to look like my canine companion Scooter, to a tickle in my throat that just simply cannot be cured, to a sneezing fit (which always seems to happen when I am furthest away from any sort of tissue or paper product forcing me to sprint to the nearest source of paper while making a very pretty face, jumping over the dog/husband/ball/shoes trying to keep that sneeze in just a wee bit longer) to a heavy lead-filled head that pounds, back to the super runny nose and then finally ending with a crescendo of coughing which ends in a loud hocker spitting finale. It's pretty.
Add that to the fact that I was probably still a little jet lagged this week and my sleep schedule is totally out of whack and you have a lovely recipe for being totally screwed up for weeks to come. I've probably slept 16 or 17 hours every day this week with the exception of the past 2 days where I've forced myself to stay awake to try to get into a more normal pattern. I'm still sleeping about 10 hours though give of take an hour. It's crazy.
I guess it's what my body needs but it really threw my plan to get back to the gym right out the window. Of course while I've been home from work the dog still needs to be taken out and walked and played with and he doesn't understand that mommies head feels like it could implode at any given moment. He just wants me to throw the damned ball.
Yesterday I did get out and ride my bike for a little bit. (Oh yeah, I got a new bike since my old bike was stolen from school. It's no longer an omafiets, or grandma bike, but its nothing totally cool either. I have two locks this time though!) The weather here is fantastic, in the 80s, and I just can't stay in any longer. Maybe it's allergies. Maybe it's just a cold. Maybe it's my body playing tricks on me so I can't get a good workout in. Either way I'm pissed off about it but listening to my body. I've given it a good proper rest and now I'm done playing it's little games and I'm reclaiming my body back. Go ahead! Make me cough! I'll just spit out my loogie and keep on going!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
I weighed in this morning to find that my weight, as of today, is only a measly 3.5 pounds more than I was when I left for the glutenous US of A! I really don't believe it but it's really honest to goodness what the scale says (after checking, verifying and double checking about 10 times) so I guess that's my official post-vacation weight!
Although this is very good news I'm still a far cry from where I want to be. I still have a little less than 40 pounds to lose to be at my first big weight loss goal of 200 pounds.
When I began this whole journey in July 2006 at 301 pounds I said I wanted to lose 100 pounds in one years time. Well July 2007 is just around the corner and it doesn't seem feasible that I'm going to drop the weight in time. To make that goal it would mean that in 3 months I'm going to have to lose about 38-40 pounds. If I take it at the higher number, 40, then that means I have to lose 13.3 pounds a month to make it.
Firstly, that's not a healthy way to lose weight. It's too quick. My doctor's (including Dr. Phil) have always recommended a loss of between 1 and 2 pounds a week for a healthy loss. Secondly... there's no way in hell I'd be able to do it. I'm struggling to get the 8 pounds every month. I don't want to be so number obsessed that I push myself too hard and start on that ever so familiar downward spiral back into my old obsessive ways.
Somewhere along the way I decided that 8 pounds a month was a pretty tough goal to meet and decided I'd be happy to lose anywhere from 6 to 8 pounds a month. Figuring that into my goal of 100 pounds it actually buys me a few extra months before I should be at a steady 200 pounds. An extra 4.6 months to be exact. That pushes my goal date all the way to mid-December which seems like a lifetime away and way too long to wait to see those numbers on the scale.
So instead of being half backwards and re figuring my first goal I'm going to just start a new goal for myself starting today. Let's say I have an even 40 pounds to lose to meet my goal, just to keep it simple. If I keep my goal of losing anywhere from 6 - 8 pounds a month then that means I should be at my goal in 5 months the shortest or 6.6 months at the longest. That means that from anywhere from September to late October-ish I should be a smoking 200 pound woman. (not smoking literally as I've kicked that habit a long time ago and don't wish to return to it anytime soon but smoking as in hot)(not hot as in on fire, but hot as in... well you know).
Last year I wanted to reach -30 pounds by 30 years old and I did it. My birthday is in September (15th, gifts and cards including money, no checks please, are most graciously accepted) so with a ton of super hard diligent sweaty work I could actually be at my final destination by time I reach 31. Amazing.