Pre-Hawaii Checklist:
Spent way too much money on cute pink leather sandals, sundresses, and other things I probably didn't need: check.
Found the PERFECT bathing suit: emerald green, thick straps: check.
Got in some tanning: check.
Tomorrow I'm getting a pedicure and manicure and picking up the boy, and then Wednesday we are ON OUR WAY!
In an effort to live my life "unconnected" for awhile, I'm leaving my computer behind on the trip and even using my cell very seldomly. I will miss you all so much but I promise I will get all caught up as soon as I get back!
Bon voyage!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
A Night in the Emergency Room
Many of you have expressed concern over my teaser about having to take a little trip to the ER last week, so I thought I would end the suspense and dish about it.
There are two things I should make clear before we begin. The first is that L. is always in the Emergency Room. Not to say that each time he goes I worry less (I freak out every time) or that it's less serious (they've all been adverse things in their own ways), but that boy has a penchant for getting himself hurt/getting into accidents/getting sick. That last one isn't really his fault, since he got mono two years ago and it's been unmercifully usurping his immune system ever since, but the guy basically just has me worried all the time.
This particular time came on the heels of a severe ear infection he got a couple weeks ago. "Why, Michelle, I didn't even know you could get ear infections past toddlerhood?" you ask me. Good question. (He's going to hate me for this.) I think the reason people tend not to get ear infections as they get older is because they know to blow the yuckies out of their nose rather than sniffle them all up to clog and infect their sinuses, but my L. didn't really take heed of that knowledge. Thus, ear infection.
Anyways, so a few weeks ago he went in for that, so I was worried, but I was a dutiful girlfriend, and put his drops in his ear at night, and secretly thought to myself, "well, that takes care of L.'s ER quota for awhile, so smooth sailing from here."
Well, smooth sailing was not what we got. L. was at rehearsal last Wednesday night, which was actually his last tech rehearsal before the show, Twelfth Night (he was Toby Belch) went up on Thursday. During the middle of his rehearsal, I get a call from our friend, who was playing Sir Andrew Aguecheek. So we'll just call him Sir A.
Sir A calls. Nonplussed, I answer the phone.
"Hey Michelle," says Sir A. "So, um, L. had an accident and hurt his head, and they're bringing him to the Emergency Room in the ambulance. I thought you might want to go over there and meet them."
I couldn't tell if Sir A. was trying to downplay the situation to make me feel better, or trying to conceal how bad it really was, but I said I'd go right away and immediately got a little shaky and dizzy. Head injuries scare me so, so much. I know that what happened to Natasha Richardson was a freak occurrence, but there's still a lot to be said for not underestimating the seriousness of a head injury. Apparently in one scene L. was supposed to do a backwards somersault, and instead of landing on his shoulders, he landed smack dab on his head. Hard. So I ran to my car and drove to the hospital, realized I didn't know where the hospital was though I've been there (for my own head injury! Strange, huh?), called C. and she told me, and finally arrived in the ER and asked to see L.
First, the nurse told me they didn't have anyone by L.'s last name there. I was starting to get really upset with her when she finally found him in the system but said I couldn't go in yet since he was being "evaluated." Ten minutes later, he went in for a CAT scan. By then, I was more than freaking out. When I went to the hospital for my concussion two years ago, all I did was sit in a little room and drink some cranberry juice and eat some graham crackers. So the fact that they were taking him in for a CAT scan really worried me.
Two of L.'s other castmates and his director showed up and waited with me, and finally the nurse came out and said we could see L., but not all at once. (I guess it was kind of funny to see all those people waiting for him.) So his director and I went in, and he was sitting up in bed, being silly and making jokes, and except for some very dilated pupils and a big bump on his head he seemed okay. In fact, he was even still in his costume for the play, which added another layer of relief/humor to the whole thing. His CAT scan showed there was no swelling in his brain, thankfully, so a few hours later they said he could go home. He definitely had a concussion, they said, but he could sleep through the night. I made sure he got some food and got him to bed, and though this is incredibly melodramatic of me was really thankful he woke up easily in the morning.
At least I can say my boyfriend always keeps me on my feet?
There are two things I should make clear before we begin. The first is that L. is always in the Emergency Room. Not to say that each time he goes I worry less (I freak out every time) or that it's less serious (they've all been adverse things in their own ways), but that boy has a penchant for getting himself hurt/getting into accidents/getting sick. That last one isn't really his fault, since he got mono two years ago and it's been unmercifully usurping his immune system ever since, but the guy basically just has me worried all the time.
This particular time came on the heels of a severe ear infection he got a couple weeks ago. "Why, Michelle, I didn't even know you could get ear infections past toddlerhood?" you ask me. Good question. (He's going to hate me for this.) I think the reason people tend not to get ear infections as they get older is because they know to blow the yuckies out of their nose rather than sniffle them all up to clog and infect their sinuses, but my L. didn't really take heed of that knowledge. Thus, ear infection.
Anyways, so a few weeks ago he went in for that, so I was worried, but I was a dutiful girlfriend, and put his drops in his ear at night, and secretly thought to myself, "well, that takes care of L.'s ER quota for awhile, so smooth sailing from here."
Well, smooth sailing was not what we got. L. was at rehearsal last Wednesday night, which was actually his last tech rehearsal before the show, Twelfth Night (he was Toby Belch) went up on Thursday. During the middle of his rehearsal, I get a call from our friend, who was playing Sir Andrew Aguecheek. So we'll just call him Sir A.
Sir A calls. Nonplussed, I answer the phone.
"Hey Michelle," says Sir A. "So, um, L. had an accident and hurt his head, and they're bringing him to the Emergency Room in the ambulance. I thought you might want to go over there and meet them."
I couldn't tell if Sir A. was trying to downplay the situation to make me feel better, or trying to conceal how bad it really was, but I said I'd go right away and immediately got a little shaky and dizzy. Head injuries scare me so, so much. I know that what happened to Natasha Richardson was a freak occurrence, but there's still a lot to be said for not underestimating the seriousness of a head injury. Apparently in one scene L. was supposed to do a backwards somersault, and instead of landing on his shoulders, he landed smack dab on his head. Hard. So I ran to my car and drove to the hospital, realized I didn't know where the hospital was though I've been there (for my own head injury! Strange, huh?), called C. and she told me, and finally arrived in the ER and asked to see L.
First, the nurse told me they didn't have anyone by L.'s last name there. I was starting to get really upset with her when she finally found him in the system but said I couldn't go in yet since he was being "evaluated." Ten minutes later, he went in for a CAT scan. By then, I was more than freaking out. When I went to the hospital for my concussion two years ago, all I did was sit in a little room and drink some cranberry juice and eat some graham crackers. So the fact that they were taking him in for a CAT scan really worried me.
Two of L.'s other castmates and his director showed up and waited with me, and finally the nurse came out and said we could see L., but not all at once. (I guess it was kind of funny to see all those people waiting for him.) So his director and I went in, and he was sitting up in bed, being silly and making jokes, and except for some very dilated pupils and a big bump on his head he seemed okay. In fact, he was even still in his costume for the play, which added another layer of relief/humor to the whole thing. His CAT scan showed there was no swelling in his brain, thankfully, so a few hours later they said he could go home. He definitely had a concussion, they said, but he could sleep through the night. I made sure he got some food and got him to bed, and though this is incredibly melodramatic of me was really thankful he woke up easily in the morning.
At least I can say my boyfriend always keeps me on my feet?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
New Blogger Layouts, You Save My Life
Ohmygosh you guys.
Look at my blog.
It's not totally there yet, but I didn't even have to spend hours doing this all myself! Blogger did it for me!
For those of you who use blogger, have you played around with the new Blogger in draft feature yet? You can customize mostly everything, from giving your blog three columns to changing its width to giving it background images! It's great times.
I'm really happy with what I've done so far. One thing I would really love is for my header to look the way my body posts do--with a plain white background and bordered so that it's easier to read my title, rather than straining to read it against the cute print. Does anyone know how to do this? I know to add the border I just put a "border: 2px solid;" tag in my html, but I tried to put "background color: #FFFFFF;" and it didn't seem to like that.
I have some great posts waiting for all of you, including why I'm mad at Ellen (I knowww! I'm horrified too) and how I spent a night in the ER with my boyfriend, both of which happened last week, but his parents were visiting us all weekend and I've been hitting the gym like mad (Saturdays and Sundays are my "1000 calorie days") (Yes, I've gone nuts) so stay tuned for those.
Before we get there, does anyone know how to fix my header problem? Play with these layouts yourself--they look so professional and are so easy and customizable!
Look at my blog.
It's not totally there yet, but I didn't even have to spend hours doing this all myself! Blogger did it for me!
For those of you who use blogger, have you played around with the new Blogger in draft feature yet? You can customize mostly everything, from giving your blog three columns to changing its width to giving it background images! It's great times.
I'm really happy with what I've done so far. One thing I would really love is for my header to look the way my body posts do--with a plain white background and bordered so that it's easier to read my title, rather than straining to read it against the cute print. Does anyone know how to do this? I know to add the border I just put a "border: 2px solid;" tag in my html, but I tried to put "background color: #FFFFFF;" and it didn't seem to like that.
I have some great posts waiting for all of you, including why I'm mad at Ellen (I knowww! I'm horrified too) and how I spent a night in the ER with my boyfriend, both of which happened last week, but his parents were visiting us all weekend and I've been hitting the gym like mad (Saturdays and Sundays are my "1000 calorie days") (Yes, I've gone nuts) so stay tuned for those.
Before we get there, does anyone know how to fix my header problem? Play with these layouts yourself--they look so professional and are so easy and customizable!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Something I Will Never Get Over
This Humane Society video has been coming on every day at the gym during Ellen's slot for the last few weeks...and without fail, I have cried every single time I have seen it. Can we picture that for a second, please? Me, working my cute little butt off on the elliptical, headphones plugged in, tears streaming down my face while staring at the TV?
As a lot of you already know, I am a huge proponent of animal rights. If I really think about it, all I want to do with my life is say, forget grad school and the publishing industry-- if there's one thing I would be happiest doing in the world, it's running an animal adoption agency that would take in unwanted or uncared for animals and working to re-situate them in loving homes.
Granted, it's not that hard to get me to cry, but I don't know if many of you could watch this without doing so, so just prepare yourself for it.
If anyone has rescued a shelter pet, GREAT for you! The world needs more people like you. I'd love to know what kind of animal you rescued and what your experience has been! If you haven't, it's never too late--and can anyone really object to having another animal around? They are the most constant companion imaginable--which is why it breaks my heart that they have to suffer in silence.
As a lot of you already know, I am a huge proponent of animal rights. If I really think about it, all I want to do with my life is say, forget grad school and the publishing industry-- if there's one thing I would be happiest doing in the world, it's running an animal adoption agency that would take in unwanted or uncared for animals and working to re-situate them in loving homes.
Granted, it's not that hard to get me to cry, but I don't know if many of you could watch this without doing so, so just prepare yourself for it.
If anyone has rescued a shelter pet, GREAT for you! The world needs more people like you. I'd love to know what kind of animal you rescued and what your experience has been! If you haven't, it's never too late--and can anyone really object to having another animal around? They are the most constant companion imaginable--which is why it breaks my heart that they have to suffer in silence.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Jim and Pam and Love and Babies
For those of you who have read this blog for awhile, you know that I have a slightly obsessive love for Jim and Pam, as evidenced here and here. Maybe because they're a lot like L. and me, in the way they/we got together, or maybe just because they're awesome.
Well, except for this season. After the wedding, Jim and Pam lost a little of the magic for me. And it is NOT because I was one of those Office fans who decided to just stop watching after the wedding. But the writers just turned Jim and Pam into bitchy, argumentative, cranky people! Especially when Jim was a co-manager--that, I just couldn't handle. They just got a little less awesome.
Maybe one of the least awesome things they've done is have a baby. I know that so many Office fans will read this, throw their computers across the room, and unsubscribe from my blog. Or maybe just be confused. But try to allow me to explain. They are so young! They didn't have any time to be young and married and in love, and to devote themselves to traveling and home DIY and just generally be awesome before this baby came along.
I mean, babies are kind of cute, I guess. But here's the thing about them. They stick around forever. You know? Clearly that's the thing about babies, but I think it's so obvious that people don't really think about it. When someone has a baby, it's all, oh look, so-and-so had a cute baby. But that baby grows into a kid, which grows into a teenager, which grows into an adult, which gets old. And that's your child, forever. It is the ultimate commitment. And for someone who's always been a little wary of that commitment thing anyway, that's terrifying. You can never change your mind! Talk about scary.
Honestly, the only time I think I'd ever regret not having a baby would be when I started to get on in years, and got lonely or sick, and wanted someone to care for me or keep me company. But being a little lonely in my old age seems to be a fair trade for getting all those glorious young 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s--to do whatever I want with my life. Travel, change careers, go back to school, move around, throw myself into my passions such as preventing animal cruelty, improve my house, write, go out for drinks with friends, splurge on great food, live abroad, follow my whims. That might sound selfish, but I work so hard to make sure I have a good education so that I can have a good life. I've worked this hard ever since I was very young, since I had a bad childhood and basically raised myself from the ages of 7-10. Sometimes people say, "Maybe that's why you don't want to have a child, since your experience with your own parents wasn't great." I don't think that's true at all. My adoptive parents, with whom I've been living since I was 12, are the most incredible people in the world, and I have a tremendous relationship with them. I know how strong that bond can be.
But I don't know. I just don't think I'll regret not having a baby, and I'm terrified I will regret it if I do. Isn't that scary?
PLUS there are so many gross side effects of pregnancy and childbirth that no one ever thinks of/talks about! Did you know most people poop all over the place while they're doing it? So what happens with that? Does everyone in the room just pretend not to notice? Do they change your sheets right away? Do you shower? No one talks about these things! And then there's the placenta...AND, depending on your insurance, just birthing the baby can cost $10,000!
Now, don't get me wrong--I've dreamed of my wedding since I was a little girl, and marrying the perfect man is one of my top priorities in life. I'm not completely anti-marriage, anti-domesticity. I just think having a great career and a great marriage can easily go hand in hand, even if small sacrifices such as letting one person follow his or her dream for a few years and then switching off have to be made. I think where the major sacrifices have to be made is when children come along.
I don't know. Maybe I'll change my mind. But I just have this feeling in my gut. Plus, I'm so awkward around children. I never know what to say or do. I never squeal over them.
If I ever do have children, I can already tell you what they'll look like. Want to meet them? They'll be...
A Black Lab named Jake...
A Goldendoodle named George Eliot (Some of you have seen her before...she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!)
A Border Collie named Edie...
A Golden Retriever named Ellie (though she'll have to come long after my beloved Golden Abby, who I can't even think about losing someday)
And a Labradoodle named Teddy, obviousy, because he's such an overstuffed teddy bear.
Well, except for this season. After the wedding, Jim and Pam lost a little of the magic for me. And it is NOT because I was one of those Office fans who decided to just stop watching after the wedding. But the writers just turned Jim and Pam into bitchy, argumentative, cranky people! Especially when Jim was a co-manager--that, I just couldn't handle. They just got a little less awesome.
Maybe one of the least awesome things they've done is have a baby. I know that so many Office fans will read this, throw their computers across the room, and unsubscribe from my blog. Or maybe just be confused. But try to allow me to explain. They are so young! They didn't have any time to be young and married and in love, and to devote themselves to traveling and home DIY and just generally be awesome before this baby came along.
I mean, babies are kind of cute, I guess. But here's the thing about them. They stick around forever. You know? Clearly that's the thing about babies, but I think it's so obvious that people don't really think about it. When someone has a baby, it's all, oh look, so-and-so had a cute baby. But that baby grows into a kid, which grows into a teenager, which grows into an adult, which gets old. And that's your child, forever. It is the ultimate commitment. And for someone who's always been a little wary of that commitment thing anyway, that's terrifying. You can never change your mind! Talk about scary.
Honestly, the only time I think I'd ever regret not having a baby would be when I started to get on in years, and got lonely or sick, and wanted someone to care for me or keep me company. But being a little lonely in my old age seems to be a fair trade for getting all those glorious young 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s--to do whatever I want with my life. Travel, change careers, go back to school, move around, throw myself into my passions such as preventing animal cruelty, improve my house, write, go out for drinks with friends, splurge on great food, live abroad, follow my whims. That might sound selfish, but I work so hard to make sure I have a good education so that I can have a good life. I've worked this hard ever since I was very young, since I had a bad childhood and basically raised myself from the ages of 7-10. Sometimes people say, "Maybe that's why you don't want to have a child, since your experience with your own parents wasn't great." I don't think that's true at all. My adoptive parents, with whom I've been living since I was 12, are the most incredible people in the world, and I have a tremendous relationship with them. I know how strong that bond can be.
But I don't know. I just don't think I'll regret not having a baby, and I'm terrified I will regret it if I do. Isn't that scary?
PLUS there are so many gross side effects of pregnancy and childbirth that no one ever thinks of/talks about! Did you know most people poop all over the place while they're doing it? So what happens with that? Does everyone in the room just pretend not to notice? Do they change your sheets right away? Do you shower? No one talks about these things! And then there's the placenta...AND, depending on your insurance, just birthing the baby can cost $10,000!
Now, don't get me wrong--I've dreamed of my wedding since I was a little girl, and marrying the perfect man is one of my top priorities in life. I'm not completely anti-marriage, anti-domesticity. I just think having a great career and a great marriage can easily go hand in hand, even if small sacrifices such as letting one person follow his or her dream for a few years and then switching off have to be made. I think where the major sacrifices have to be made is when children come along.
I don't know. Maybe I'll change my mind. But I just have this feeling in my gut. Plus, I'm so awkward around children. I never know what to say or do. I never squeal over them.
If I ever do have children, I can already tell you what they'll look like. Want to meet them? They'll be...
A Black Lab named Jake...
A Goldendoodle named George Eliot (Some of you have seen her before...she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!)
A Border Collie named Edie...
A Golden Retriever named Ellie (though she'll have to come long after my beloved Golden Abby, who I can't even think about losing someday)
And a Labradoodle named Teddy, obviousy, because he's such an overstuffed teddy bear.With all those guys running around, who has time for kids, anyway?
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
L,'s Birthday Weekend, and 100th Post!
1. This is my 100th post! Yay!
2. As you may have noticed, the cute snow application that used to make my blog seasonal and joyful is now GONE. You know why? Because it's officially March, and I refuse to believe the snow has any reason to continue. Though...it's snowed the last 6 days in a row in Williamstown. And...in New England we regularly have snow through the end of April.
But removing this from my page layout is definitely going to send the snow a major message.
3. L's 21st was on Saturday! I planned three--count 'em, three--surprises for it. Surprise #1 occured on Wednesday and was his actual gift and it consisted of....drum roll...us fleeing Williams for the night, driving three hours to Boston, seeing the LION KING (!!!), getting sugar-free ice cream and mexican food at one of those big highway rest stops (less sketchy than it sounds), and not getting back to Williams till 2 am though we both had class that morning. We are rebels. It felt soo good to get away from this hell-hole (yeah, I said it) for even just an evening. And Lion King was SO. GOOD. There were 15-foot-tall giraffes. Also I ended up getting us literally the LAST seats in the house, in the center of the very LAST row, because I'm a terrible girlfriend (okay, to be fair I don't have any money, and I also spent like a million other dollars on his party birthday dinner and birthday drinks last weekend).
Friday night we had a big party and all night I was getting super antsy about the surprise that L.'s mom and I had planned...42 delicious cupcakes. "But Michelle, you're on South Beach. Why are you eating cupcakes?" you say. To that I say, "Diet was non-existent for one night. I also ate bbq chicken pizza. Deal with it." (To myself.) (Because when I go off my diet, I cry. Literally. And then refuse to wear real pants.)
The cupcakes were a hit. Plus, they were huge with tons of frosting, so they were perfect for smooshing in L.'s face. (It's his birthday. It's gotta happen.)
Saturday, his actual b-day, I took him and some of our guy friends to The Forge, aka the best wings and beer in the Berkshires, nay, Massachusetts, nay, the world. They have over 300 kinds of beer, most of it on tap. And the wings. Oh my god the wings. We got 4 dozen. YUP. 4 DOZEN. We don't mess around.
I'm a little disconcerted that the bar, my 21-year-old-girl-time escape, is now able to be infiltrated by my boyfriend, who, clearly, I love very much, but sometimes a girl's gotta get away. But we had tons of fun there too and L. did not go without, if you know what I mean. I had to BEG people to STOP buying him drinks.
4. I've been doing South Beach again for almost 3 weeks now. Last summer when I started I went from weighing 155-160 and being a size 10-12, the weight at which I felt the most depressed and miserable I've ever felt, to 140, or a size 8. It was life-changing. I fell off the wagon a bit late last fall/winter (aka holiday season) and hovered around 145-147 for awhile. Since L. and I are going to Hawaii in three weeks, three weeks ago I decided it was time to kick myself into high gear. I've been eating nothing but veggies and meat, and hitting the gym every day, which is HUGE for me since I've always been great with diets but terrible at getting to the gym. I weighed myself the other day and...I'm at 138!
You have no idea what this means to me. I haven't been in the 130's since middle school, I think. This also means I'm only 13 pounds away from my ultimate goal, 125. That is incredible to me. 125 is the weight at which I will be completely satisfied, and finally feel that I'm living in the body I want to live in. I've never thought that state of mind could be attainable, and to know it's only 13 lbs and some toning away is mind-blowing. I'm hovering between a size 8 and 6 right now, and ultimately I'd love to be a 4.
Last summer, I mentioned that I was dieting, but I never would have DREAMED of sharing my weight or dress size on my blog/the interwebs. But I've realized that including people in my goals and progress has helped me tremendously in getting it off faster.
Also, I'd just like to reinforce that these numbers (125, size 4) are what I've decided is best for me, and my body type. I've arrived at them from careful study of my BMI, and the target weight for my height and age. This is completely different for everyone, but I just want everyone to know I'm not striving for some arbitrary number because my definition of "thin" has been skewed by too many hours spend browsing through the Victoria's Secret catalogue. I'm never going to be "thin"--my boobs and butt laugh in the face of that word--but I think these numbers are where my figure will feel happiest.
5. That being said, I'm actually getting EXCITED to go bathing suit shopping. I hate swimming and going to the beach and I've realized I hate those things because I've never felt comfortable in a bathing suit. Well, that's over now. I'm determined to look smokin' in this little number:
I LOVE THIS SWIMSUIT. I love those coral bubbles. I think they're the most adorable thing, ever.
What's your favorite swimsuit of the season?
2. As you may have noticed, the cute snow application that used to make my blog seasonal and joyful is now GONE. You know why? Because it's officially March, and I refuse to believe the snow has any reason to continue. Though...it's snowed the last 6 days in a row in Williamstown. And...in New England we regularly have snow through the end of April.
But removing this from my page layout is definitely going to send the snow a major message.
3. L's 21st was on Saturday! I planned three--count 'em, three--surprises for it. Surprise #1 occured on Wednesday and was his actual gift and it consisted of....drum roll...us fleeing Williams for the night, driving three hours to Boston, seeing the LION KING (!!!), getting sugar-free ice cream and mexican food at one of those big highway rest stops (less sketchy than it sounds), and not getting back to Williams till 2 am though we both had class that morning. We are rebels. It felt soo good to get away from this hell-hole (yeah, I said it) for even just an evening. And Lion King was SO. GOOD. There were 15-foot-tall giraffes. Also I ended up getting us literally the LAST seats in the house, in the center of the very LAST row, because I'm a terrible girlfriend (okay, to be fair I don't have any money, and I also spent like a million other dollars on his party birthday dinner and birthday drinks last weekend).
Friday night we had a big party and all night I was getting super antsy about the surprise that L.'s mom and I had planned...42 delicious cupcakes. "But Michelle, you're on South Beach. Why are you eating cupcakes?" you say. To that I say, "Diet was non-existent for one night. I also ate bbq chicken pizza. Deal with it." (To myself.) (Because when I go off my diet, I cry. Literally. And then refuse to wear real pants.)
The cupcakes were a hit. Plus, they were huge with tons of frosting, so they were perfect for smooshing in L.'s face. (It's his birthday. It's gotta happen.)
Saturday, his actual b-day, I took him and some of our guy friends to The Forge, aka the best wings and beer in the Berkshires, nay, Massachusetts, nay, the world. They have over 300 kinds of beer, most of it on tap. And the wings. Oh my god the wings. We got 4 dozen. YUP. 4 DOZEN. We don't mess around.
I'm a little disconcerted that the bar, my 21-year-old-girl-time escape, is now able to be infiltrated by my boyfriend, who, clearly, I love very much, but sometimes a girl's gotta get away. But we had tons of fun there too and L. did not go without, if you know what I mean. I had to BEG people to STOP buying him drinks.
4. I've been doing South Beach again for almost 3 weeks now. Last summer when I started I went from weighing 155-160 and being a size 10-12, the weight at which I felt the most depressed and miserable I've ever felt, to 140, or a size 8. It was life-changing. I fell off the wagon a bit late last fall/winter (aka holiday season) and hovered around 145-147 for awhile. Since L. and I are going to Hawaii in three weeks, three weeks ago I decided it was time to kick myself into high gear. I've been eating nothing but veggies and meat, and hitting the gym every day, which is HUGE for me since I've always been great with diets but terrible at getting to the gym. I weighed myself the other day and...I'm at 138!
You have no idea what this means to me. I haven't been in the 130's since middle school, I think. This also means I'm only 13 pounds away from my ultimate goal, 125. That is incredible to me. 125 is the weight at which I will be completely satisfied, and finally feel that I'm living in the body I want to live in. I've never thought that state of mind could be attainable, and to know it's only 13 lbs and some toning away is mind-blowing. I'm hovering between a size 8 and 6 right now, and ultimately I'd love to be a 4.
Last summer, I mentioned that I was dieting, but I never would have DREAMED of sharing my weight or dress size on my blog/the interwebs. But I've realized that including people in my goals and progress has helped me tremendously in getting it off faster.
Also, I'd just like to reinforce that these numbers (125, size 4) are what I've decided is best for me, and my body type. I've arrived at them from careful study of my BMI, and the target weight for my height and age. This is completely different for everyone, but I just want everyone to know I'm not striving for some arbitrary number because my definition of "thin" has been skewed by too many hours spend browsing through the Victoria's Secret catalogue. I'm never going to be "thin"--my boobs and butt laugh in the face of that word--but I think these numbers are where my figure will feel happiest.
5. That being said, I'm actually getting EXCITED to go bathing suit shopping. I hate swimming and going to the beach and I've realized I hate those things because I've never felt comfortable in a bathing suit. Well, that's over now. I'm determined to look smokin' in this little number:
I LOVE THIS SWIMSUIT. I love those coral bubbles. I think they're the most adorable thing, ever.
What's your favorite swimsuit of the season?
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