Losing It...

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What I Do Best

It's Super Bowl Sunday, which means one thing: Puppy Bowl. It's the 6th year of the annual Animal Planet show and I have to say, it rules. Puppies playing on a fake football field? Water bowl cams? Tired pups sleeping while other ones play fight? I'm so there. If you aren't into it, you have a dead, cold, lifeless heart.

Speaking of hearts, I got to get mine pumping again. So I guess I have to pretty much grow the *&#$ up and be a bit more responsible around here. I've got a little under four months until we move and I wanted a lot of things done by then. They may not all get done, but I'm going to give until it hurts.

I have a month before my next doctor checkup. I decided to stick with this lady, since she doesn't seem to sugar coat things. If I'm going to show improvement by the next appointment, I got to get working. Luckily, I have two traits that will help me here: 1) I research the hell out of everything and will be doing this the right way, 2) I am Type-A about things like "making progress." I want that damn medical file to say "improvement." I basically want the doctor to give me an A. My mental problems could actually be beneficial here.

I joined a gym yesterday. And then within the hour, I went and worked out for an hour. And guess what? Today I did the same thing. It was cheaper than I had expected and I'm not locked into a year long contract. I actually felt really good about it, and I hope to keep it up. I am planning on going right after I leave work (which is in the early afternoon Mon-Thurs).

It's not just about moving around though, I know that. So I'm paying more attention to food. Trying not to be lazy about things anymore. I went through my habits and kicked out some things that just can't stay (goodbye Coke, I think I'll miss you most of all). I have looked for good tasting healthy recipes so that I don't feel deprived. I have this kooky app on my phone that helps me track calories and keep track of exercise. It's a "Live Strong" app I found online.

I actually found a really good apple muffin recipe by Ellie Krieger of the Food Network. She isn't the most exciting tv chef personality, but she knows her stuff, nutrition-wise, so I like her show.

Apple Muffins

They were so good that I might think these are the best muffins I've ever had, not just the best healthy muffins. Crazy. But true.

Here's her recipe, with my adjustments:

• cooking spray
  
• 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons packed brown sugar
  
• 1/4 cup chopped pecans (I didn't use the pecans)
  
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole-wheat flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt (I used kosher salt)
• 1/4 cup canola oil (I used Smart Balance oil, which is a canola/soy mix)
  
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup natural applesauce (I didn't have any, so I just pulsed another apple in the food processor)
  
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 3/4 cup lowfat buttermilk (Didn't have any of this either, so I used vanilla soy milk)
  
• 1 Golden Delicious apple, peeled, cored and cut into 1/4-inch pieces (mine were pink lady apples)
  

Directions

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Coat a 12-capacity muffin pan with cooking spray. (I used cupcake cups, but I still sprayed them so they wouldn't stick to the cups and the tops wouldn't stick to the pan)

In a small bowl, mix together 2 tablespoons of the brown sugar, the pecans and cinnamon.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the all-purpose and whole-wheat flour, baking soda and salt.

In a large bowl, whisk the remaining 3/4 cup sugar and oil until combined. Add the eggs, 1 at a time, whisking well after each addition. Whisk in the applesauce and vanilla.

Whisk in the flour mixture in 2 batches, alternating with the buttermilk. Whisk just until combined. Gently stir in the apple chunks.

Pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan and sprinkle with the pecan mixture. Tap the pan on the counter a few times to remove any air bubbles. Bake for 20 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center of 1 of the muffins comes out clean.

Let cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Run a knife around the muffins to loosen them and unmold. Cool completely on the rack.

According to Ellie, a serving size is 2 muffins! The calorie count with the original recipe is 110 calories a muffin, but with my changes, it might be just a little less. Not too shabby for such a good tasting muffin.

Chubuary

My family has a history of heart disease, diabetes, and pancreatic cancer. These are the first things I say to a new doctor. Remember in the olden days, when people had the same doctor forever, and he or she was the family doctor, so not only did they know you, but your whole entire family? Was that ever real? Because I’ve had a thousand doctors.

Probably it has to do with the fact that medical insurance hasn’t been a constant, and when it has been available, I have chosen an HMO. Kaiser, specifically. I haven’t been mistreated at a Kaiser facility, but I definitely have had some WTF moments. What was cool about it was that you got access to your records and prescription refills online, and that doctors had a record of everyone you’ve seen because Kaisers are all connected. When my family was on welfare after my parents divorced, I remember just not going to the doctor. The welfare approved facilities were not pretty, nor was the wait to get an appointment. But I eventually got jobs with benefits, and even though I had fairly cheap copays for visits, I still felt like, “Do I really need to see a doctor? Can’t I just wait it out and see?”

I’ve had some pretty bizarre experiences with doctors, who are like a different branch of over-educated people, so I kind of understand their language. They spent a lot of time reading, studying, and perfecting their knowledge of body parts, so they haven’t put a premium on interpersonal skills. Some try, some are just naturally good at it, and some, well, they need some serious help. I try to be understanding of their limitations.

I once went to a gynecologist that I selected specifically because she was Latina. I had never had a hispanic doctor ever, much less a woman, so I though it would be awesome. She was super cool and interesting and she chatted with me rather than just being a robot about the examination procedure. And of course she asked the delicate question “what are you?” (she didn’t ask it that way, but that’s the jist of it) and I told her my family is Cuban. Well, hold on to those stirrups, because the conversation got rolling. I was treated to a lovely discussion of why Fidel Castro “isn’t really that bad.” Which, being a liberal, I understood her point politically. However, is now really the time, lady? How are my ovaries? Do they feel ok? She continued gabbing about Fidel and at the end told me “everything seems fine,” which was not reassuring.

Because I wanted to add my husband on to my insurance, I had to switch to a PPO rather than stick with Kaiser. He likes his doctor and I felt no real connection to my stable of 5,000 doctors, so I thought, I should probably find a good doctor and stick with her/him. There is so much more information on doctors now online! I found someone I thought would be great. She’s got great degrees, did much of her internship in low-income communities in SoCal. She’s African American, works in Long Beach and Compton, and she loves hanging out with her son and reading science fiction. Sounds like someone who would understand me a little better than Joe Doctor at Kaiser.

She was really, very nice. She chatted with me for over an hour about my life and plans one day to maybe have a kid, I told her about how I’m moving, what I do for a living. She gave me good tips about getting around copays by just calling and leaving her messages instead of coming in for referrals.

She saw my family history and immediately gave me some sobering advice. I need to lose weight. I need to eat better. I need to exercise more. The statistics she rattled off about my likelihood of having diabetes and heart problems really hit me hard. I know I’ve been slacking, and that I don’t lead as healthy a lifestyle as I would like. I’m not 20 anymore. It was good to have someone give me the info I needed to hear, not a cursory glance at my file and “have a nice day.” I felt like she actually cared, but...well she has a strange bedside manner.

She said a few things that bummed me out. First of all, I would need to lose at least 25 lbs before even thinking of having a kid or I’d risk diabetes, heart problems, and a deformed baby! The baby guilt train was just leaving the station too, because I am also a bad potential mom because I have tattoos. Apparently, you can’t give blood if you have tattoos (Red Cross says you have to wait a year, but she says there are ‘new rules’). So her advice to me was, “tell your husband not to get any tattoos so if the baby needs blood he can donate.” Like I'm basically a lost cause for ever helping my kid with a blood transfusion. Dude, wasn’t this hypothetical future baby like, living amongst my bloodstream for 9 months? WTF? That just cannot be right.

Her advice on losing weight was pretty good, stuff about buying frozen rather than canned vegetables. How I should try to avoid processed foods and go for the organic stuff if I can. Until she got to the practical kinds of advice you’d give to someone fucking obese. She literally told me that instead of getting a cake, consider getting a cupcake. Like I eat whole cakes! She remarked that some people just can’t help themselves and eat the whole cake. She squeezed my ankle as part of the exam and showed me how the squeezed part remained white. She said that it was indicative of too much salt in my system. But she didn’t say it that way, the way that would be NORMAL. She said, “You see that?” To which I said, “Is it because I’m retaining water on account of my monthly “situation?” She said, “that’s bacon, ham, chips.” Oh. My. Gaaah.

She then told me that my ideal weight for my height should be 120 lbs. I, being a woman, have already looked up the ideal weight/height calculations and have known them since I was 17. For someone my height, I should be between 120-145 lbs. Why, when encountering someone overweight, would you give them the lowest possible weight as the goal! That’s nuts! I haven’t been 120 lbs. Since I was vegetarian and in high school. If she had said 140, I would have been like "that's doable, I can see myself at that weight."

I know, I need to be healthier (btw, she did corroborate my theory that nutrisystem food is full of preservatives that aren’t good for you), I need to exercise and eat better. I need to get out of this rut that has kept me from moving forward, but I really did not need to hear that I need to be 120 lbs. I walked out of the office in a daze.

Part of me wants to think that I’m just mad/depressed because she called me on my laziness. That it’s about time someone said it to me straight. I can tell you I didn’t want to eat at all yesterday, and that I went out and bought all kinds of healthy stuff and didn’t drink soda or coffee at all. I took my dog on a super long walk. I made salmon and asparagus for dinner. Those are good things. Scared straight type of things.

Part of me thinks she means well, but is used to being in a “lecturing” kind of conversation with people who maybe don’t know much about nutrition or who just want the lap band surgery or whatever. And my family history does warrant a serious look at my habits. But the weird advice about tattoos, mom guilt, and the cupcake thing are red flags, no?

I haven’t cried about it, because I haven’t thought it through long enough and I'm trying to be positive. But I had to write this post in small increments over the past 28 hours. I wasn’t even going to post it, but I feel like this isn’t supposed to be a vanity project, it’s supposed to be about my successes and failures. I’ve worked really hard in the past year to overcome some obstacles, including getting healthy. And I did lose about 15 pounds at the beginning of the year, but I went right back to my old habits once school rolled around again.

Sigh...just when you need a cocktail most, you can’t have it because it’s full of calories and will render you infertile.

Have you ever gotten crazy advice or weird guilt trips from your doctor? How did you deal?

nerd art.

I said I wanted to finish before the semester started, and damn if I didn't get just under the wire. Here's my retablo, a dia de los muertos diarama of my family in time for the fall festivities. Traditionally, the Mexican Day of the Dead is a day to remember those who have died in celebration, not mourning. It coincides with All Souls and All Saints days on the Catholic calendar. There is a costuming tradition as well, with people dressing up as elaborate skeletons. That's my inspiration, basically.

This is my family celebrating in song, with M. and I in the center as bride and groom. My step-dad Miguel is in front in the wheelchair (he plays the trumpet in real life). My Brothers and mom are behind me. M.'s brother is in front on guitar, and his parents are behind him. Our pets are next to us (also skeletons!) Some of the decor are loteria card pieces, but a lot of it is little pieces of flair and clay things that I made.

Now, I have never really done clay modeling, but my core belief system ("I can totally do that") was challenged, and so I went to the place all researchers go--Google. Google has all kinds of sites aimed at showing you how to create metal armatures and foil pieces for the basic body of your clay figure. Now, the quality is kind of not-so-hot, because my abilities are not well formed, but I kind of like the home-made quality of it. I may do more skeletons in a bit larger scale, so that the skulls can be a little more detailed. Maybe in a bas relief frame-like format so that they don't have to be completely three dimensional.


Check out my points-friendly meal of low-fat chili and a chicken taco! My own special chili recipe was already low enough in fat to qualify as a 4 point meal. The trick is using just 1/2 a pound 4% fat lean ground beef and lots of veggies with red beans. Bulking up with veggies is my new way of getting healthy. I have lost some weight with the Weight Watchers thing, but that isn't as rewarding as the feeling of knowing what I'm actually putting in my body. It's much easier to say no to Cold Stone when I know that it would be like a third of the food (calorie-wise) I should be eating for the day. And it gets me cooking more, which is nice, even though the lack of air conditioning makes it a chore sometimes. Luckily my sweet husband does the dishes when I cook, so I can at least cool down after the meal. Can't wait for the cool down in weather. I miss my sweaters!

ooh, I almost forgot to mention, my weird "freak magnet" rears its head again. I posted a pic of my dog on Flickr. He loves when I do laundry and the other day, he hopped right on the bed to put his face right into my folded underwear. So naturally, I took a picture and posted it. I didn't even use the word "underwear" in the description, and yet I got a new "contact" who thinks my photo is a "favorite" and he commented on my photo in order to tell me "looks like someone likes the Victoria's Secret cotton collection." How could you not go take a look at this person's photo site, right? I expected a total grody dude with booby pictures or pictures of himself at "the river" wearing a beer hat. Well, hold your horses, because it's a tranny-one that only takes pictures of himself from behind in satin granny panties from waist to knee. He's a panty-fetish tranny who loves telling people things they already know about their underwear. As Eddie Izzard would say, "weirdo transvestite." And this is only second in my tranny freak magnet lifetime moments. I got hit on at a club by Joan Crawford. Not young starlet Joan, but old-ass Mommy Dearest Joan Crawford, with the white fur hat and melty face. She said, "you going home alone tonight?" in a gravely voice. Maybe I need new perfume....

Fat Summer/You Can't Go Home Again

Remember the summer of 2002? I remember working on campus and spending a lot of time at Stubrik's bar in Fullerton (and eventually 2Js, and the Continental when it first opened). It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I was out of luck in love and hadn't been in school for a year, but I was having a great time with my friends. Coincidentally, I gained 10 pounds, which I think I still have here somewhere beneath the other pounds I've gained since. I referred to it earlier today as my "Fat Summer." It's a slippery slope, and now that I'm over 30 (yikes), it's not like I can just spend a week without soda and slim down. This stuff is here for the long haul. I have become too sedentary and not at all good with food lately. I can tell because it has been two days since I spent about 45 minutes at the batting cages and I am still sore! And also because I got weighed on an honest-to-goodness doctor's scale last week and it wasn't pretty. Too much delivery food, too many fried foods. I basically had a mental breakdown about it yesterday. So I decided to change things a bit. I will still write about recipes, but let's just say there will be more veggies in my future.

Since I am horribly bad at any kind of fad diet, I went with Weight Watchers (I'm wincing too), which basically teaches you portion control and nutrition in the form of their "points" system. You can look up anything you want and find out how many points it has and then adjust your daily diet accordingly. My commitment to this is serious, but I have to admit, I looked up "coke" and "7&7" right off the bat. A 7&7 cocktail is 3 points! (to give you some context, you should have around 35 points in a day) Exercise gives you bonus points, so I am heading back to the gym. I decided to take a class so that I won't be inclined to leave when I get bored. I'm thinking something very "jazzercise-y" with songs and choreography (think "and kick, and right, and left, and back, you've got it!"). I hope I'm being realistic. I know that paying for my gym membership and not going is just dumb. Here's hoping for the best. FYI: my chocolate cherry cupcakes from yesterday are 2 points each.

Speaking of Stubrik's, I went back there with a friend last week and it's totally different. My little dive bar is all grown up, with a fancy paint job, framed photographs, expensive looking glass lamps above each booth, and a new sign out front in modern black and red font. The bartender mentioned that the upstairs was redone, with more room and less pool tables. There were flat screens all over the place. Sigh, I guess we all have to grow up sometime...

By the way, what is up with the person who took Obama's wailing wall prayer out of the friggin' wall and told the media? And what's up with the media for reporting his prayer word for word and yet making it seem like the person who took it was to blame? What's next, timing his trips to the bathroom?