Week Three Check-In

Okay, I'm not even going to post all the times I cheated. Fact is, eating out is just part of our entertainment, and I'm not going to get away from it. So I'm just trying to eat smart and avoid (or drastically limit) the foods I shouldn't eat. And so far it's working!

Starting Stats:
weight: 166.8 lbs.
body fat: 37.0%

Exercise:
11 miles/3 hour, 40 minutes

Progress (DRUM ROLL PLEASE!):
current weight: 164.2 lbs.--2.6 pounds lost!
current body fat: 36.5%--half a percentage point lost!
TOTAL WEIGHT LOST: 8.4 pounds!

I went to the nutritionist on Wednesday and she said I've lost 3 pounds of fat so far--I'm so psyched. I don't care, though, what the weight is, water or fat--either way it's gonna make my clothes actually fit one of these days. If I can be as good as I was that first week, then I'll be back to normal in no time. Hallelujah!!

Last Guy On The Web

Back in 1994, our family was one of the first in our circle of friends to get email--but I think my dad is officially the last guy to get on the web. But the good news is, he's finally there--at LeeStrobel.com! Go check out his site and sign up for his newsletter. And check out the link for the preview for his Da Vinci Code curriculum--it's PHENOMENAL. And I'm not just saying that because I'm his daughter! I haven't read the book yet, but now I'm going to--and then hopefully find some folks to go through the study with me. :)

Week two check in!

Well, I thought for sure after all the cheating I did this week I'd end up gaining back everything I lost. I can't even remember all the stuff I ate that I shouldn't have--between dinner out (twice) with my parents and the time we were in Ventura/Santa Maria for Dan's grandmother's funeral, I ate restaurant fare and fast food more often than I ate at home. But I still lost a little weight!

Starting Stats:
weight: 168.0 lbs.
body fat: 37.0%

Cheating:
A lot.

Exercise:
5 miles/1 hour, 40 minutes

Progress (DRUM ROLL PLEASE!):
current weight: 166.8 lbs.--1.2 pounds lost!
current body fat: 37%--no change.

Yay!! :) I don't even care that it's barely over a pound; I'm just thrilled I didn't gain any back. :)

I didn't know disco was so international

I'm watching the Olympic opening ceremonies from last night--I recorded it so I could zip through the commercials. The creative program before the athletes' march was one of the bet I've seen in a long time--I loved that skiier figure made up of all those people! And the way the Olympic rings were formed at the end--so cool. But I have to say, I love their musical choices for during the march. The disco, the 80's dance (I'm only through the "N" countries, so who knows what they'll be playing by Zaire!)

The Olympics always make me cry. I cry through the opening ceremonies, I cry through the athletes' march, I cry during the medal presentations even when the US isn't on a podium. It's the thought of all the hard work, of the teamwork and camaraderie between the teammates, and the concept of representing your country that make me so weepy. I get that way with marching bands, too. I know, I'm a dork.

My next Internet stop will be NBC's Olympics page to figure out when all my favorite sports are on so I can set the DVR to record them all. Abby apparently already likes hockey; I had one of the women's games on this morning and she was staring in rapt attention at the TV. She did that the other night, too, while Dan watched the Denver Avalanche hockey game. Pretty funny. Dan would be thrilled if she was a hockey fan.

(Okay, I'm totally suckered in: did you see that Nike commercial where the US skiier, Bode, tells you to go to his website but doesn't say why? THAT will be my next stop, and then the NBC page. What can I say, he said to check it out, and I'm a follower.)

When the Olympics were here in LA back in...what was it, 88? 84? I can't remember...anyway, the marathon was run down here in Mission Viejo, and just two minutes away is Olympia Parkway, one of the roads they ran on. Kinda cool to think there were olympians right down the street from my house! Maybe someday it'll come back to LA and they'll do it again. Probably the closest I'll ever get to the games--those tickets are expensive!!

Let me know if I ever write a best-seller, will you?

Timetraveler.ytmnd.com

I don't even know what else to say.

Even better!!

You know how they say you should weigh yourself at the same time every day (or whenever you weigh yourself)? Well, the measurements I listed in my previous post were taken last night before bed--but I usually weigh myself before my shower. And guess what? When I did that this afternoon, I was 168! That means I've lost 4.6 pounds!! I know it's probably not likely, but IF I can keep that up, that means I'd be down to my target in about 3 months! BY SUMMER!!

Talk about motivating!...

Week One check in!

Well, I've been doing my new diet & exercise plan for one whole week now. Here's the lowdown:

Starting Stats:
weight: 172.6 lbs.
body fat: 39.5%

Cheating:
Super Bowl party (see Feb. 6 entry)
KFC (But I only had chicken strips! I WANTED extra crispy chicken breasts and mashed potatoes and a buttermilk roll--three cheers for willpower!)
McDonalds (But I only had chicken selects, 1/2 my fries, and 1/2 my Hi-C soda! I WANTED a quarter pounder with cheese and a Dr. Pepper and chocolate-dipped ice cream cone--three more cheers for willpower!)

Exercise:
14 miles/4 hours, 40 minutes (approx. 40 minutes a day)

Progress (DRUM ROLL PLEASE!):
current weight: 170.0 lbs.--2.6 pounds lost!
current body fat: 37%--2 percentage points lost!

YES! Measurable success!! Two pounds a week is fine by me. At this rate I will be at my target weight by the beginning of September. It sounds like it's a long way away, but at the rate time's going, it'll feel like, two weeks from now...

Goodbye, Gwen.

Grandma Gwen, Dan's maternal grandmother, died this morning. She was a dear woman, and I'm so glad I had the privilege of meeting her. Funeral is Friday. Please pray for Dan's family, especially his mother and aunts. Thanks.

Three and a half days wasn't bad...

Okay, so I went three full days of no cheating on the diet. But then we went to a Super Bowl Party...

Honestly, I was quite proud of my restraint. I only ate:

- 7 Cheez-Its
- 5 home made torilla chips
- 4 meatballs (at least they had protein!)
- 4 potato chips (but really thin ones!) with onion dip
- 6 apple slices (on my list of food I can eat, so that's good!)

Now, compare to what I normally would have eaten:

- a small bowl of Cheez-Its
- a plateful of home made chips, and after consuming I would have asked the woman who brought them how to make them, and then would have had Dan stop at the grocery store on the way home to get the ingredients
- 10 meatballs (they were covered in some kind of delicious sauce)
- 20 potato chips with a 1/2 a cup of dip
- two quessadilla slices
- 3 taquitos
- no apples whatsoever

So really, it was a huge victory. I was really kicking myself at first, but then it was kind of a challenge, a throwing down of the gauntlet to myeslf, to stop at only 5 of those tortilla chips and 4 potato chips & dip. Given the exercise I'm getting these days and how well I'm eating (last night aside) I don't think my little foray off the diet is going to be an issue. I mean, I'm all for discipline, but I don't want to turn into a total food nazi, right? Anyway, it's Monday morning, day 5, and I'm eating my strawberries and toasting my one slice of whole wheat before heading out to the lake to do my 45 minutes. 125 pounds, here I come!!!

Breaking the addiction

On Tuesday I went to the nutritionist my mom's been seeing. She's awesome--looks about 20 years younger than she really is and has MS but you'd never know it. Amazing what eating the right food will do for you! Anyway, my mom split her appointment with me so she could give me some advice on getting back into shape. I've been holding steady at 172 for almost two weeks, which is what she told my mom would happen because of my diet which, of course, sucks. She did a readout of my cells, my fat to muscle ratio, and some other stuff I can't remember. I wasn't as awful as I expected to be, but I'm certainly not where I should be, and while a lot of the reason is the pregnancy and its side effects, truth is I'm always a mess. Thing is, I'm realizing that Abby is one giant blank slate that is going to be filled by what she sees, and if she sees me living off cereal and fast food, how can I expect her to be any better? And after hearing the nutritionist explain what eating processed and simple sugar does to your body, I've decided I'm going to do my very best to make sure Abby doesn't get addicted to it the way I have.

So, to those ends, I launched a lifestyle change yesterday that I'm hoping and praying I'll be able to stick with. I'm eating a diabetic diet of about 1300 calories a day, plus two protein shakes a day on top of it, and I eat 6-7 times a day. I also started walking around the lake again; I'm starting at 30-45 minutes of walking time with the goal of working up to 4 miles in an hour. (Right now it takes me about half an hour to go one mile--thanks a lot, c-section.) The biggest challenge so far: not letting myself cave to my sugar craving. She said it would take about a week for me to break the addiction, and let me tell you, the pull of those Honey Nut Cheerios is just about unbearable right now. Might not seem like a big deal to let myself have one bowl a day--certainly it's less than my standard 2-3 bowls which made up about 80% of my daily dietm, right? But NO, I will NOT let myself do it! And I invite you to keep me accountable. I honestly think there should be a 12 step program for sugar addiction, but since there isn't, y'all have to serve as my sponsors. :) Feel free to check up on me; I promise to be honest!

Today is day two, and so far I have been strong. I threw out an entire box of my most favorite cookies last night, and finished off my Stove Top Stuffing Monday night. We're doing dinner with my grandmother tonight--we have a monthly KFC date with her--so I'll be off the diet a little but not too badly: chicken is part of my diet, and I'm going to have water instead of soda, and I'll bring my green beans and avocado instead of having the mashed potatoes and gravy. *sigh*

One day at a time, one hour at a time. Anyone who's ever broken an addiction and has some advice for me, please comment. I'm going to need all the help I can get!

The End of an Era

Well this will teach me to procrastinate. Western Union stopped sending telegrams on January 27th. I'm so bummed! I've always wanted to send a telegram, and now I'll never have the chance.

Three down...

So today marks the beginning of my fourth decade of life. I couldn't sleep last night after I fed Abby, and as I laid there staring at the ceiling I started thinking about how much has changed since my 20th birthday. Ten years ago today I was a sophomore at the U of I, dating the guy I thought I'd marry, looking forward to a year abroad in Scotland, addicted to an online roleplaying game, and expecting to be a teacher after I graduated. When I went home to visit my parents, I went to Arlington Heights, a suburb outside Chicago. I didn't have a car, I didn't own a house, I didn't have a job, I most definitely didn't have a baby. I slept on the bottom bunk of a 10 by 10 foot dorm room and did my homework on the floor while watching "Friends" and "ER." I think I had my birthday dinner at the Bombay Bicycle Club. Or maybe that was my 19th birthday. I can't remember.

I had my life very well planned out. (Silly, silly me.) I was going to graduate, get married, get a job as a teacher, and most likely have my first baby by 23 and my second a few years later. We'd live somewhere in the Chicago suburbs, have a house with a big yard, and...that was it. That was the dream I had for my life.

And God, I'm sure, was laughing at me.

Fast-forward ten years, and has any of that happened as I expected? Not at all. Instead, God rained down blessings far greater than any I could have anticipated or even hoped for. When the dreams I had 10 years go started to fall apart and fade away, I was so sad, so frustrated--I had put so much effort and time into building those dreams! How could they just crumble like that? I knew there were obviously lots of other wonderful things that could happen to me, but I wanted the wonderful things I'd come up with--because I of course knew what was best for me, right?

A gorgeous baby at 30, a home in California, a husband more perfect than I could ever have hoped for, and a career as a writer--not the life I planned but definitely a better one. The last ten years have brought with them a lot of unexpected change, a lot of unexpected opportunities, and some of the best and worst experiences of my life. Looking forward to the next 10 years makes me wonder what else God has in store...

"Not in my town."

Have you ever found out something was happening close to your home that absolutely disgusted you? I had that experience today. Lisa Samson had a link to Protest4.com , the website for an organization devoted to ended human sex trafficking, and I decided to check out the link. One of the articles listed was about the 12 US cities that are hubs for child trafficking--and one of them was Anaheim, CA. Yes, the home of Disneyland, the Happiest Place on Earth, and a city less than half an hour away from me that I'm in all the time. I couldn't believe that such a small city (compared to the other cities on the list, like LA and San Francisco and Las Vegas) with so much wealth could harbor such a dirty secret. It makes me ill.

So I'm doing something about it. Their "Get Involved!" page said they needed volunteers, and listed "writers" among the types of people they're looking for. I wrote them and am just waiting to hear what I can do, besides driving up there and grabbing off the street every lone girl I see.

One of the other things that really got to me was a quote from the mother of one of these girls:

"You sit down and talk to your kids about drugs, but you never talk to your kids about the possibility of prostitution," she said. "It's just not part of your world."

Does it scare anyone else to think that we need to be talking to our children (note it says CHILDREN, not GIRLS) about not becoming a prostitute? How on earth do you even start that conversation???

I'm not going to think about that right now. Instead, I'm going to start brainstorming a novel that touches on this topic. The more attention we draw to this travesty, the better.

Ah-ha!

I feel exonerated! These books all had less than 50% chance of being a bestseller:
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn--10.2%
The Cae for Christ--35.9%
White Oleander--41.4%
The Bridges of Madison county--35.9%
Tuesdays With Morrie--45.6%
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone--45.6%
The Da Vinci Code--39.5%
Pet cemetery--35.9%

So I think I'm probably okay, don't you think?

Well no wonder.

The Lulu Titlescorer tells you how likely your book's title is to make it a bestseller. Turns out Worlds Collide only had a 10.2% chance--no wonder it hasn't sold into royalty yet! Unfortunately I am not that good at picking titles, apparently, since Violette Between only has a 14.6% chance. Hm. At least I know where to go now to test drive my titles before making my final decision. (And yeah, yeah, I know it's all in fun...but I'm still going to run some bestseller titles through it to see how well they score. Just in case.)

The whole truth...sort of

Have you seen all the buzz about James Frey's book, "A Million Little Pieces?" Apparently he wrote his memoirs and took some creative license with a few of the rather important facts. Now there's a debate raging about the necessity of truth in memoirs--and frankly, the very fact that there's a debate at all shows us just how badly society is crumbling--with one side saying that memoirs fall under the genre umbrella of non-fiction and should therefore be all truth, and the other side saying that a little embellishment is really no big deal when the majority of the story is true to real life.

I'm getting ready to start my first non-fiction work, and not far behind it is my own memoir attempt. The first work will be about other people, and I don't foresee having a problem sticking to the facts with that one. But I have to admit that, while I don't condone what he did, I can certainly understand where Frey was coming from. When I think about some of the things I'll have to admit in order to stay true to my life, I get a little worried. Do I really want to admit to it all? Do I really want to give complete strangers an unflinching full-frontal view of my shortcomings, my stupidity, my immaturity? And what about other people whose lives figure into my story--is it fair to expose them as well? I guess I could give them the option of being shielded with the whole "Names have been changed to protect the innocent" concept.

And then what about the not-so-exciting facts, the mundane parts of the story that would be a lot more interesting with a few twists and exaggerations? Part of me thinks my story is way too lame for anyone to consider riveting reading--will I be able to withstand the temptation to give into hyperbole? Not much, just a few instances here or there that wouldn't have any bearing on the bulk of the story. Because, really, can you expect a fiction writer to refrain from fiction ALL the time?

Obviously the answer is yes, you can, and you should. And obviously I'm not going to let myself give into that temptation--I can't even blame a few embellishments here and there on a fuzzy memory because I actually wrote every night in a diary during the year abroad that I'll be chronicling. But I can guarantee I'll be wincing as I write and really wishing that truth was a gray as some people would like it to be.

Michael Frey's deception was wrong, minor thought it might be--but I can definitely understand why he did it.

A little preoccupied at the moment...

It may be awhile before I post regularly again on this blog--we had our baby last week and I'm a bit wrapped up in staring in wonder at my daughter. :) Check out my baby blog for all the details and the cutest pictures ever. :)

-Alison

Because I'm Bored Out Of My Mind At The Moment

More quizzes! Gotta love 'em. I took these at blogthings.com.

You Are a Losing Lottery Ticket!

Full of hope and promise. But in the end, a cheap letdown.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

You Passed 8th Grade Science

Congratulations, you got 8/8 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Science?

You Are

A Franken Pumpkin Face You would make a good deformed pumpkin.

What's Your Pumpkin Face?

Your Personality Profile

You are dependable, popular, and observant. Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness. In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do. You are unique, creative, and expressive. You don't mind waving your freak flag every once and a while. And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming!

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Chronicles of Narnia

Dan and I went to see Narnia today--one of the 5 movies we swore we'd see before the baby came, and actually, the first one we've seen. I loved it! I've read that book so many times--I used to read the series to my kids after lunch back when I taught, and I really thought they did a great job of capturing the essence of the story. And man, that White Witch is creepy! (But with a VERY cool wardrobe--her dresses rock.) Next on the list: Memoirs of a Giesha (loved the book), Harry Potter (since I've seen the others I figure I might as well keep up with the series), Walk the Line (because I really like Reese Witherspoon and it looks pretty good), and Pride & Prejudice (because I love the story and Kiera Knightly). Dan wants to see Fun with Dick and Jane, but I'm not a big Jim Carrey fan, and it just doesn't look that interesting to me. But hey, who am I kidding, we're not going to have time to see these movies because I'm going to have a baby soon. Really, really soon. Right??? I said, RIGHT?!?! Please, please, someone promise me I'm going to have this baby soon....

Where do you get your ideas?

When I tell people I'm a writer, I inveitably get asked how I come up with my story ideas. The joke of it is that my ridiculously overactive imagination needs very little to get going, and last night is an excellent example.

I woke up at 2:40 and had just been laying there when my cell phone rang. The readout said "Private number" which usually means my parents or one of my few friends with a private listing. I quickly pick up and say hello, and am met with...well, not exactly silence, because there was plenty of noise, but it's the kind of noise you hear on the phone when the person you're talking to puts down the receiver, shuffles it from one hand to another, etc. After saying hello about 4 times and getting no response, I hung up, and the plot-growing questions began.

-Who was this person? Obviously someone who had me on either speed dial or redial, which means someone I know was up at 2:55,holding their phone, and apparently oblivious to the fact that they were pressing the call button.

-Why were they carrying a phone around? Typically you don't haul a house phone around just for the heck of it. (I'm assuming it's a house phone because I don't think you can block cell phone numbers from showing up on caller ID or have them listed as private.) So they're either waiting for an important call (at 3 in the morning?!) or cleaning up the house (at 3 in the morning?!).

-Why are they up at 3 in the morning? I can honestly think of only two people who call me regularly and have a private listing: my parents and the Cummings. Now, while it's possible that one of my parents was up in the middle of the night, it doesn't make sense to me that they'd be dragging the phone around with them, because half the time they can't find the thing in the first place, and second of all, at 3 in the morning, I can asure you my parents are not cleaning the house. Having a little snack, maybe; watching some TV because they can't sleep, possibly. But not cleaning. So it must be the Cummings. But they have two kids--one is 6 months and the other is 2.5 years--and when you've got kids that small you're only giving up sleep because one of them is sick or you're feeding the baby--and again, you're not playing with the phone.

Now, I'm in the middle of sorting through all these questions when the phone rings again. I answer and hear nothing but that shuffling sound--and then a toilet flushing. This brings us to a whole new set of questions!

-Why do they have a phone in their bathroom? Neither my parents or the Cummings have a phone actually installed in there, meaning they brought the cordless in. But why?

-Again, why are you up at 3 in the morning? If you're just up to use the bathroom, which is completely normal, then you wouldn't be holding the phone at the same time. Which means you're up for something else. But what? And why?

"Why," to me, is the most important question when writing a story. It helps you to investigate nooks and crannies of the action that you might have left alone otherwise, and uncovers the motivation of even the most minor of characters. Without action and motivation, you don't have much of a story. The character hates her husband--why? Because he belittles her in front of her friends--why? Because he secretly fears her superior intelligence--why? just keep asking the question and you get to all sorts of interesting new places which ultimately serve to give your story believability and depth.

Seconds later the phone rings again. By now I have silenced the ringer because the sound is too jarring to take in the dead of night, but the thing vibrates on the table, making a whole new weird noise to be bothered by. I wrap it in the sofa's armrest cover to muffle the sound and start listening to my hypnobirthing on my iPod in an attempt to go back to sleep, but when it rings five minutes later the vibrating can be heard through the calming voice of the hypnobirth lady, and I finally turn the blasted thing off. But can I sleep? Nooooo. Because these blasted questions are pinballing around my cranium and I'm desperate for answers. (I'm also extremely nosy and really, really want to know who it is.)

But, despite the fact that I never got any answers, and probably never will, I do have to admit I've got all sorts of interesting story starters to play with next time I need a plot:

-A woman sits at her kitchen table, wrapped in her robe and the darkness of night, clutching her cordless phone with such strength that her knuckles are white. The only light in the room eminates from the television, which she's turned up to drown out the silence that terrifies her so. Why is she awake? Why is she afraid? And why is she clutching the phone so hard that she accidentally presses the redial button--without realizing it--and why is she alone when her husband is sleeping peacefully in the room down the hall?

-A man frantically races around his house, cleaning as thought Martha Stewart herself were coming to critique him. He's wired on Red Bull and a little speed, and he keeps picking things up and forgetting to put them down again. One of them, the cordless phone, remains in his hand as he gulps another Red Bull and then relieves himself in the bathroom. Why is he cleaning in the middle of the night? Why is he so frantic about it? Why did he take the speed? And why is he so distracted that he keeps holding onto things instead of putting them away like he intends to?

-A toddler sits in his mother's lap, clutching his bottle and blankie. Mom fell asleep trying to get him back to sleep, and now he's not only wide awake, but bored. He slips from her lap and abandons the bottle once he hits the floor and crawls out of the room. He finds himself in the living room, which is lit by the nightlight in the corner, and his eyes are attracted to the glint of something on the couch. Pulling himself upright, he grabs for the shiny thing and begins to gum it with all his toddler might. The object--a cordless phone--suddenly beeps and begins to ring, which causes no end of delight for the child. Suddenly a voice, sounding both far away and right next to him, says, "Hello?" He stops chewing and stares, trying to determine where this person is. 'Hello?" He realizes the object is talking to him, but then it stops, so he chews again in the hopes it will resume. Why was the phone left off the cradle all night? Why is the mother so tired that she fell that deeply asleep? Why isn't the baby afraid of the dark?

Are these scenarios going to provide me with the action for an entire book? No, not necessarily, but they're the beginnings, the stepping stones that you hop on to get to the giant plot rock on which you can build your story. And it's all thanks to someone I apparently know who called me at least 5 times last night without even knowing it.

Why?!?!?!