Always a New Christmas Tradition

The last day of school, my friend Katie at BSA asked us all what our Christmas traditions were. She's 24 and this was the first time she had been away from home so close to the holidays. I mentioned a few things that my family did when I was growing up, but it was hard to find something in the past few years that I did every year. I was almost bothered by it until I realized that my tradition is to find new traditions.

This year I am home for Christmas. This hasn't happened in five years. I am usually out caroling and drive home the day afte Christmas for a few days of celebration. I miss my caroling traditions (the gigs we always do, the pizza party we have, the dinners and the Knott's Christmas) and I miss my friends. I miss the man that I love terribly and I miss spending the holidays with him. We have our own traditions and the season is a little off because I don't have him around me every day. But the gift of time with my family helps to make up for all of that. And I am comforted knowing that this is the last year I sleep without him on Christmas Eve.

Because I am home for the first time in years, and my mother is living in a new house, this is a new year of traditions for my family too. There is no longer a "but we always" for anything. The holiday season is our oyster. We always make fudge, we always, make cookies, we always wear silly sweatshirts, we always wrap the night before Christmas, we always eat too much, we always ask mom if what we're wearing to Christmas dinner is okay.....those are all there. But this year we continue to embrace the new and the changes and the surprises.

Next year, as I blend my family with my bf's kids and their traditions, I know my holiday season will change again. I'm okay with that. We will shift celebration days, share meals with new family members and learn how to juggle time with all the different sides of the family. We might even have everyone over to London and spend the season there!

There might not be any more "but we always" but there will forever be lots of "sure, why nots".

Happy Christmas!!

Happy 33rd Birthday Miss Bjorklund

Happy Birthday to me!!

Let me start by saying I LOVE that this is the date I turn 33  --->  11/22/11. Cool, right?!!?

I spend an inordinate amount of time examining my life, examining my motivation. I work hard to become a better member of society, a better member of my family and a better friend and partner. There isn't much I do that I don't analyze and try to do better next time. All this while fully living in the moment and loving the life I am building for myself. This amount of self reflection and betterment, while totally worthwhile, is exhausting. So today, for my birthday, I'm going to reflect on the joy that was my day and worry about what to make of it later.

I was really sad last night. I literally cried myself to sleep thinking of how sad I was. Around me sat the wrappers of the feelings I tried to eat- a strawberry trifle, a bag of crisps, a can of Devon cream- and yet it wasn't fixing the problem. I was homesick, no two ways about it, and I was spending my birthday alone. Or so I thought.

This morning I woke up and was met with "Happy Birthday" texts. On the way to school Jack and Olivia (from the MA Voice course) sang Happy Birthday to me as we walked to the bus stop. Throughout the day I had to keep reminding myself it was my birthday, but there was usually someone around to say it to me which made me smile and fully take in that moment of someone wishing me well. It was nice. I got hugs from everyone, I got jokes from people and genuine well-wishes. The bonus of the day? I got to spend it doing what I love.

Not once today did I worry about where my life was going or what I was going to do after school. Not once did I think about calories or my body or fitting into my pants. Not once did I worry about saying the wrong thing or hurting someone's feelings. Not once did I wallow or wonder or worry. This was my day and I enjoyed it.

After school we all went out to dinner with Alex, our course director. We had a lovely dinner filled with conversation and lots of laughs. I chatted with Sarah, Chris and Eric on the way home about words we think are real or not and what they might mean. I got home and turned on my computer to see over 150 people had wished me a happy birthday on facebook. A reminder how lucky I am to live in an age where people aren't forgotten about.

I was then summoned over to the other house where I was serenaded again and had some tea with everyone. We talked about our names and movies and the upcoming Thanksgiving dinner. Their company is something I treasure and I was thankful to be there. When I got home, my roommates knocked on my door and surprised me with singing Happy Birthday to me, complete with a candle. I made a wish. (I would tell you what it is, but that will have to wait until next year.) Finally my roommates and I all slid down the banister in the hallway- something we've all wanted to do since we moved in- and bid each other good night.

This was a wonderufl day. It wasn't extraordinary. It wasn't life-altering-ly good or bad. It wasn't anything more than a simple, almost perfect day filled with perfect little moments. I am a lucky lucky woman. Today reminded me of that. If my 33rd year on this earth can be filled with days like this I will consider myself blessed.

Happy Birthday Amie!!

No weight, no scale, no problem

For most of the summer I weighed myself. I was doing the HCG diet where you weigh yourself every day. It was wonderful to watch the weight come off so quickly. However, it was not as much fun to watch the weight come back on. I have weighed myself at LEAST weekly for the past three years. There wasn't a day goes by I didn't know how much I weighed within 2 pounds. I was both frustrated and motivated by these numbers but felt I was healthy and aware. I felt in control and powerful because if nothing else, I knew what I weighed.


Guess what I don't have here in the UK. A scale.


It didn't even occur to me until about two weeks of being here. I baby sat for a fellow student and they have a scale in their bathroom. It was like meeting an old friend you used to know very well. I was so tempted to step on it and see what my number was, when I stopped myself. I didn't want to know. Even more than that, I didn't need to know.


My pants are looser, forcing me to wear the belt I brought with me. My tops hang better and my sweaters don't stretch across my middle. My clothes feel comfortable and, dare I say, almost too big for me. 


I am sleeping well and not getting sick, minus a few sniffles here and there. I am not breaking out or feeling greasy or weighed down. I am regular and I feel great. I have maintained the vegetarian diet and I love how I feel. I treat myself to a beer when I want one and chocolate when I want those. I eat a lot of food out of a can, because it stays on the shelfs longer, but I also eat an apple every day and greens every day. I drink three liters of water every day at school and then more when I get home. I haven't counted my calories since I got here, nor have I weighed myself.


And I feel great.


There is a part of me that cannot wait to get home and step on that scale. I know I have lost weight and I would love to know the number that goes with that to validate my "hard work". But more than that, I know I am healthy. Losing the scale obsession has been a true gift and something I really enjoy. I like now knowing. I like having to guess. I like that I can go back to imagining I'm in the 150s and loving my body. This is amazing! I am falling in love with myself and it feels so good.


Now, off for more tea!!

Friday Acting Loves

Remember that time I freaked out about having an eight hour acting workshop every week? Remember how I didn't know what I was going to do with all that time and wasn't just trusting that it would all work out? Well, I should have.

I have had three Fridays so far and I have survived each one of them. The first week we worked on Miracle plays and the very start of story-telling theater. We were handed a script and had to just play with it and block it and cast it. We worked out how the story would be told and what was actually needed. 8 hours- done!

The next week we worked on monologues from Shakespeare. We were each handed the same pieces and we read through them and talked about the choice of words and the phrasing. We looked at the metaphors and when the play appeared in Shakespeare's folio and how that effects the playing of it. We talked about the who and the how and the who. It was a day of on our feet exercises and studying the texts. 8 more hours- DONE! And I'm more in love than ever before.

(If you're following along at home, we worked on Richard III's first speech (Now is the winter of our discontent), the rape monologue from Titus Andronicus (Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast!)  and the tent monologue from Richard III (Oh I have passed a miserable night). We also worked on some clown monologues: Lance's Two Gentlemen of Verona (Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping.) and the scene between the brothers in Comedy of Errors.)

Today (Friday) we worked on the character development of the play we will be performing as our end of term project, Thomas Middleton's Women Beware Women. We have not been cast yet, so we all are working  together to get to know the journey each character takes in the play. We spend the entire day working on the events each character experiences and how it effects everyone else. It was wonderful to have us all contribute to every character, not just the one we will be working on. We all had to know why the Duke did what he did and why Bianca did what she did. We all have to know what The Ward is doing and why the Mother says what she says. It's vital to the understanding of the play as a whole.

That is something I love about this process. It is wonderful to experience the joy of bringing a play to life without the business side of things. I have spent the better part of 10 years trying to "get the part" and then get the next one. I've worked on musicals and plays as a production and what ticket sales it can bring to the playhouse more than as a work of art that is being produced because it's amazing. I've gotten caught up in having to sell myself in an effort to climb the LA theater ladder instead of truly enjoying bring the story of someone to the stage. There are obviously exceptions to that, but on the whole I have spent more time trying to get cast than truly enjoying being an actor.

20 hours a week of acting workshop will definitely bring that love back. I thank the universe every day that I get to do this for a living. And one of these days, I'll get paid for it!

A Tuesday in the Trenches

Today I sang my song for Song Class. I'm working on "(Not) Getting Married Today" from Company. It's a beast of a song and I have been trying to memorize the words for 2 weeks. Along with two long-ass scenes and two sonnets. The song tutor (they call them tutors instead of professors here), Dominique, is really great with us and is able to pinpoint our problem areas and work with them. He and I worked with me breaking down each of the beats even more and showing the emotions more fully in my face. It was intense and I was mentally exhausted. I'm pretty sure you can't work on that song for more than 20 minutes before going insane. This is a proven fact.


Then Contextual Studies where we talked about the Renaissance period in history. It's really hard to squash 400 years of enlightenment into an hour lecture, but David is amazing and did it. It's such a joy to listen to him. I am constantly amazed by his wealth of knowledge and ability to engage us.


Acting Workshop was next and we finished reading Women Beware Women by Thomas Middleton. It's the play we're working on for our final workshop and are still in the initial reading of it. The play is really good and has some amazing, layered female characters. We are being cast as play for all our projects. That means we don't audition, the tutors just tell us which part we'll work on. It's interesting to hear the conversations everyone has speculating who will play which part. I'm interested in what I'll get to work on, who wouldn't be? But I also trust our tutors and know that they won't give us anything we can't handle or don't need. I'm here to learn and will willingly take anything I'm giving.


It was a great day at school and I am exhausted. Got to have some fish 'n chips at a quiet pub in Birmingham, which was really good. And a Guinness. Because you can't go to the theater without a Guinness.

The Day I Stood on The Globe Stage

This morning we all meet at school at 8:45a to get on the bus that will take us to London. No one is especially excited to be at school on a Sunday, but we know it will be worth it. The trip takes about 2.5 hours and I spend it reading the play we're doing for our final project this term and chatting with the guys sitting around me. It's the first time we are all together outside of school and we get to know each other a little better.

 Once we get to London we all walk along the Thames to the theater. We are about an hour early so we head in for lunch. The guys and I find a Greek restaurant and introduce Chris to some good Greek food. I'm reminded of my days spent in Greece last October and have a Mythos beer to celebrate how far I've come in a year. Of course I don't tell the guys why I'm celebrating. It's too long a story and...well....they are boys.

After lunch we all meet at the theater again and get our schedule for the day. First we go on a walking tour of The Globe. This is the first time I've been inside the theater and I am taken aback by its size, both at how small it is and how tall. It's open air, with three levels of audience seating as well as the "groundlings" area in front. After studying Elizabethan life for the past two weeks I can really put myself in the world that would have existed 500 years ago. The dress, the smells, the people. It's amazing. The seats are wood and there is no precinium. Along the inside of the Lord boxes are gorgeous paintings of Greek gods and mythological creatures. There is symbolism in everything.

Our tour guide, Amy, tells us a little more about the history of the theater and then we are shuffled off to meet with Yolanda, our workshop guide for the next hour. We follow her up the back stairs (which are gorgeous) and onto the stage. ONTO THE STAGE!! I have the same feeling I had when I stepped on a Broadway stage for the first time. My dream, my goal, is suddenly very real and very attainable. As I stand on that stage and look up at all the "people" in the seats, I believe in my heart of hearts that I will stand on that stage as an actress in one of their productions in this life. I will see that dream come true.

We work for an hour on the stage. Walking around it, getting used to playing all the sides of it and to everyone in the house. It's a different feeling to think you have to connect with people sitting almost over your head. It's a new muscle to bring in people from 270 degrees around you. We work some pieces of text and start to think about what we would have to do differently if we were working in that house. They don't use amplification at all and the need for proper vocal strength and stamina become apparent. The sheer physical power one needs to succeed in this space is astounding, and very motivating.

Me ON The Globe stage!

We next work with one of the actors from the past season, Philip, on some more movement exercises and acting tools we can use. We are in the rehearsal space now and it's neat to think about the people who have worked in that space. The people who have worked to make beloved and feared characters come to life in that Elizabethan stage. I stay focused and try to remember everything we do so I can write it down in my workbook and use it someday, either with a cast or with students.

The day ends with a little shopping (I am a good girl and don't buy anything, knowing I'll be back at some point.) and then we head back on the bus. I watch my iPhone TV shows on the way back, doze a little bit, and talk with Catherine. It's neat to get to know my classmates a better, kind of see where they are coming from in this life.

2012 MA:Brit Trad students

It was an amazing day in all respects. Getting to go to London is always a treat. I'm reminded of my time there a few years ago and start to seriously think about whether I want to stay once my course is over. The idea of living in London for a year, just because I can, is enthralling. I would love to have a London address and go to auditions here. See more of the world and make a living on the West End stage. I could do it! The thought makes me smile and I spend a few moments of the driving daydreaming about the amazing life I would live, with my London flat and agents lining up to cast me. It's the perfect time to do it, and the idea of that being an actual reality is a little daunting. I'm not quite sure I'm ready to deal with what lies ahead of me after school.

Standing on that stage gives me life. It gives me drive and power and a renewed need for success. Every time I stand on a stage I am reminded why I do what I do and why I sacrifice so much. Having the chance to do that this early in the MA program game was a real treat.

The Thames at dusk

An Idiot Chair in Every Country

Many people want to know the differences in the two countries I have lived in, USA and UK. There are many physical differences:

- People walk on the left side of the road, like they drive, so I have spent the first week here running into people as I try to wade through the busy streets.

- The light sockets all have to be turned on. There is a switch next to all of them that must be clicked before the socket will work.

- Shut up is used as a tool for telling people to be quiet in a polite way, not rudely to tell people to shut their mouths. (One of my acting teachers actually explained this to our class so we wouldn't take offense when he eventually says it. I thought that was endearing.)

- On the keyboard the @ sign is where the " is and visa versa. Have to learn to retype when I'm at school.

However, for all the differences (and there are more, which I will continue to discover in my next year here) people are innately the same. The greatest showing of this is the department store. As I walked through Mark & Spencers today, a store a lot like the American Macy's, I watched the people. What did I see? Men being led around by women on a mission to buy something. The thing that made me laugh? Discovering the men sitting in the "Idiot Chair".

Every department store has an Idiot Chair. This is the chair where the men sit while the women try on clothes. It's usually right next to the fitting room and allows the men to rest while women come and go with different sizes and styles, sometimes stopping to hear what he has to say about a particular article. It also gives men the chance to watch other women trying on their clothes and give opinions.

When I glanced over and saw the two men sitting in the chairs, one in his 20's one in his 50's, I giggled and felt my heart lift. It was a gentle reminder that  people are basically the same, no matter where we live. And no matter how much mayonnaise we put on our sandwiches.

MA Brit Trad Day 1

When I left for school everyone ask to be kept up to date with what I'm learning and what I'm doing here. I had a few people ask for the reading list so they can "get smart too". My goal is to write a little bit every day, as long as there is something interesting to write about. The books we read are really interesting, so I def recommend them if you are looking for something to fill your brain. I'll also have a post this weekend about life here in the UK. Because it is a different country and I don't want to forget all the little things I see that make me go hmmmmmm.

Notes from day 1:

- Got to work on my scene with Sarah and Charles today. For our first assignment we were given a scene from "The Duchess of Malfi". If you haven't read it, I suggest it as a great play. Webster is violent with his plots, but gorgeous with his prose. He is one of Shakespeare's contemporaries and I love his work. Sarah and I are both working on the part of the Duchess and it's neat to see Sarah take on the scene and also to watch Charles work with both of us.

- After acting workshop Sarah and I sat on the steps outside the school and each read our books. It's neat to hang out with people who have as much work as I do and have the desire to work on it, no matter if there are other people around. It was really nice to sit together and read our books separately. It was really comforting.

- Second class of the day was Research Methodology where we learn how to do our final project, our thesis. It was a lecture class and kind of like all first day classes: filled with random info and the promise of more work the next time we meet. I'm excited about my research project and really excited to see what it actually becomes. So many options.

- Our last class of the day was stage combat. Today we worked on swordplay and I loved it! We got to work with the rapiers. I took a year of fencing in undergrad and really enjoyed it. I'm really excited to learn all the different ways to combat people on stage. Because we focus on Renaissance pieces of work this term, we are learning all the different ways and weapons used in that time period. We'll work with all the weapons we'll eventually come across in our careers as classical actors. (My career! Hooray!)

I had a really good day with everything. I'm exhausted, but thankfully it's still the first week so there is not a lot of homework yet and I can get to sleep before midnight. I have to memorize a ten minute scene and read a TON of books, but it will all get done. Tonight I got to Skype, Facebook and post my blog. Add that to the tradition of some good ice cream and I'd say today was a success.

Catch you up tomorrow!

8 Hours of Acting?!!?

At school we are given a schedule every Friday for the following week. They call the classes "modules" and the set up is pretty much the same week to week. When I get the schedule today (30 Sept 2011) for the following week I almost fall out of my chair. I look at Friday- 900-1300 Acting Workshop, then lunch, then 1400-1800 Acting Workshop.

8 HOURS OF ACTING?!!? In one day?!!? Who does that?


Apparently The Birmingham School of Acting.

I feel a real sense of panic. A sense of confusion and something that feels like defeat. I'm out of my league. I don't know what I'm doing here. How am I going to fill 8 hours of anything, except sitting on my ass in a chair? What would ANYONE do? Rehearsals usually aren't that long and even then you have an end result.

I feel I am completely out of my league here. There is a brief moment of panic and I seriously start to rethink the idea of spending 10 weeks in a place that forces me to act for 20 hours every week. Oh, did I not mention that before the 8 hours on Friday we have three, 4 hour blocks during the week? It's a lot of acting.

Dear Amie,

This is why you're here. This is why you're spending thousands of dollars. This is how you're going to change your life.

This is where you are meant to be.

Shut up and go to acting class.

Sincerely,

Future Amie

Damn, Future Amie can be quite bossy sometimes. And she's usually.....always.....correct.

The Awesomeness of Being a Grad

Walking around campus today I had the coolest feeling. I’m cool. Now, I’m a cool person for any number of reasons. However, my fellow students don’t know that....yet. At school, I am cool simply because I’m a grad student. That's awesome. 

When I was an undergrad at CSUF I adored the grad students. I thought they were these amazingly talented people who were going to change the theater world and could show me how it’s done. I admired their skill level and their ability to take risks. They were like this mystical, foreign being in my school life.

As I walked through the Birmingham School of Acting today, taking in the classes and the surroundings, I noticed undergrads watching me and sizing me up. Knowing who I was, but not knowing exactly what I was going to do at that school. Knowing that I was a grad student and was going to change the theater world. And blow their undergrad minds.

One girl came up to me as I was sitting, waiting for the rest of my classmates to finish getting IDs. She blushed a little as she asked me if I was in the MA program. I told her I was, and asked her what she was studying. She giggled and said “Acting Fundamentals” then turned heel and walked quickly away.

I smiled to myself, remembering exactly how she felt. Dumbfounded and wordless in the presence of greatness.

Alright, so maybe I’m romanticizing things a little bit. But whatever! I’m in friggin’ grad school!!! To some people in this world, I’ve made it.

Now it’s time to go change the world!

As soon as I get a bank account......

10 Weeks No Meat!!

I land in England in a few hours and I have made a decision. I am going to be a vegetarian/vegan while I am over there. Alcohol is veggie, right? And I am not going to have sex. Thus begins my 10 Weeks of No Meat!! (I know it’s crass, but I like the play on words. It always makes me giggle when anyone refers to a man’s package as “meat”.) Besides, you know I can’t just do one thing. There has to be a hook.

There are several reasons why I’d deprive myself of sex and beef for the next 10 weeks. After reading “The Veganist” by Kathy Feston and “The Kind Diet” by Alicia Silverstone this summer, I cannot, in good conscious, eat meat again. I know that in my life I will be given circumstances where I have to eat meat because it’s the only option. I am done making two Thanksgiving dinners, so there’s another one. And I’ll eat whatever my mother makes for me. But right now? When it’s just me and I am perfectly happy eating beans out of a can? A meatless existence it is!

And the no sex? Easy! I’m in grad school! When am I going to sleep, let alone with anyone? My reading list is two pages long. I have no interest in starting anything with anyone here, including the cute British boys I haven’t met yet. I am here for one thing- my masters degree in acting. I’m not here to find a husband. I’m not here to sleep around. I’m not here to do anything but become a smarter and technically better actress. My celibacy will probably prove to be a powerful tool in warding off potential suitors. I’ll just tell them I’m not interested and move on. And for the persistent man who cannot take “no” for a final answer because I am so gorgeous? Well, I’ll just tell him I already have a cute British sex slave waiting for me at home. That should work, right?

I’m confident this is an excellent decision. No meat to clog up my brain or my digestive system. Eventually no dairy. If I like it, I'll continue the veggie lifestyle into my next two terms. No British man demanding my time and clogging my emotions or my heart, leaving me free to concentrate on school work. I have a tendency to obsess with boys and how they see me. I focus on why or why not someone wants to sleep with me. I compare myself with the women who have boyfriends and wonder why I'm not good enough to have someone. Me and love is a hot mess. So I'm taking it off the table. I'm going to work on ME and what I want in this life and what I can someday offer to someone. This is my year to grow as an artist and I cannot have some 3 month international fling mess that up.


I’m entering this new country, and this new chapter in my life, with a clean slate. I have confidence this is the best decision I’ll make over the Atlantic. Because my choice in airplane food left something to be desired!

Any interest in going meatless with me? Read “The Veganist” or “The Kind Diet” and you might be more interested in joining me! It’s only 75 days. You can do it! (I’ll throw in Thanksgiving Cheat Day as an incentive if that’s easier.)

Just Another Day at the Gym

Let me introduce you to Jorge. He frequents the 24 Hour Fitness in Elk Grove and is usually the only man in the class. I met him the first time on a Friday and I immediately positioned myself at the other side of the room. I am pretty good at reading people and knowing if I will or won’t get along with someone. Jorge knows the instructor and people in the class. He’s not bad looking, for a 50 yr old Asian man able to come to a 9a weight class on a work day. I don’t really think about him as an important person in my life, finish the class and put him out of my mind.

After a weekend of not being able to walk because of the class, Monday finds me sharing space with Jorge again. The class counts out groups and we end up in the same boot camp rotation. Here is my interaction with Jorge:

J: Maybe I should be on the other side so I can lead us.
A: What? No thank you. I’m okay here.
J: I’ve taken this class before.
A: Okay. I’m still okay here.

We do the jump rope section. He hands me the rope he “thinks I should be using” since he’s so much taller than I am. Argh!

Move to the mats for plank. Each section is a minute rotation and there is no need for any talking or interaction. Jorge doesn’t seem to understand this.

J: You should stay on the mat. It’s easier.
A: I’m okay. Thanks.
J: You’re form will be better if you use a mat.
A: Really okay. Thank you.

Move to the tri-cep station

J: I need the bigger weights.
A: (thinking to myself: Of course you do)

Move to the tuck jump station.

J: I’m going to go in front of you since I’ll go faster.
A: No. I’ll go first. You can wait. (What? Who is this woman? I smile at my strength in holding my station and not bowing to him. There is no reason he needs to be in front of me and I refuse to be someone he walks over.)
J: But I’m faster than you.
A: You can wait. It’s okay.
Instructor calls over: You should let Jorge go in front of you. He’ll run you over.
A: Nope. I told him he can wait. But thank you.
Inst: Oh.....okay.

We do the tuck jumps and halfway through he steps out because he hurts him back. I’m not surprised considering he did the jumps with such force I almost laughed. High jump all the way down to full plie. What is he thinking? I smile to myself as he stands and has to wait for me to finish my perfectly formed tuck jumps. Without the male ego.

We move to the push ups, which are uneventful. The next two stations are wordless. I have made my point that I don’t want to interact with him and he isn’t going to step on me or my work out.

We get to the jump ropes again for cycle two.

J: If you had let me go in front of you, I wouldn’t have hurt my back.
A: (Jumping rope) What?
J: (not jumping rope) I had to stop myself from running into you, forcing me to throw out my back.
A: (Still jumping rope) Nice try. It is not my fault. You should have waited. I didn’t tell you when to go.
J: (Still not jumping rope) You should have let me go in front of you.
A: (Done jumping rope now because it’s been a minute.) No. It is not my fault you hurt your back.

At this point I’ve written Jorge off as a complete douchebag. I am NOT backing down to him and I am NOT apologizing for something that is not my fault. This is a huge step for me. The old Amie would have apologized just to make him happy, regardless of how it made me feel.

We do another round, him only doing half the work-out because his back still hurts (which he has now told everyone in the class about) and me working harder than ever, determined to not let him get to me.

My favorite part of the work out? Our final time at the jump rope station.

J: So, what’s that on your back?
A: What? (I’m jump roping again.)
J: On your back? A phoenix? Or a male rooster?
A: A phoenix.
J: So you’re what, mid twenties? That’s usually the time women decide to ruin their bodies.
A: Um, I’m 32.
J: Ah.... You shouldn’t have a tattoo. You shouldn’t desecrate your body like that. Your body is a temple.
A: (At this point I stop jumping rope, completely thrown he is now giving me a lecture.) I know my body is a temple. That is why I’m at the gym.
J: So are you going to get it removed?
A: What?!!? No. I love it.
J: You should. It’s not okay.

Oh. My. GOD!!! I just look at him, take a deep breath and get into my plank pose for the final round. Still without a mat and still with the focused determination to sweat him out of my space.

Oh life. Thank you.

Good-bye Desk, Hello Future!

It’s not easy to go after your dreams. It’s not easy to say “no” to the easy and push for what you want. A dream can be anything- weight loss, houses, kids, travel. The list is endless and each of them are attainable. Sometimes reaching for your dreams means having the right platform to jump from.

I quit my job in Feb with the intention to never return to an office. At the time I hadn’t been accepted into school and I had no idea how I was going to fulfill my big dream shoes. I just knew I had to leave the office. After I got into Birmingham for my MA I knew I needed to fill my days, and my bank account, with work and a temp office job was the most logical. No one was going to hire me knowing I was leaving in six months. So once again I found myself sitting at a desk.

Today, at 4:30, that ends. The next time I will be at a desk I will own the company. Now is the time to dream big. It’s so exciting! I’m not sitting at a desk again. I’m not going to be a waitress. I’m not going to DJ parties for rich people. I’m not going to do anything that doesn’t move me forward creatively and artistically. I’m no longer sacrificing my dreams and goals for the easy.

This is a risky move, packing up everything and leaving for a year, but I know it’s the right move for me. I’m trusting this is where my life is supposed to go in order for me to fulfill my purpose on this earth. I have known for years that sitting at a desk is not for me so I’m taking the steps to change it. My dreams are going to come true. My dreams are reachable, attainable, and so completely doable it scares me.

When I walk out of this office at 4:30 today I’m not looking back. I’m not going to think about how I’ll pay my bills or have health insurance or work experience. I’m not going to think about the calming routine of a job where I don’t have stress or have to over extend myself. I’m going to walk out these doors and look to the future.

A future filled with promise and performing. A future filled with amazing food and wonderful friends who continue to support me. A future where I am in charge of my destiny and where I take myself.

These office jobs have served me well. They’ve provided a place to practice monologues and write my blog. They’ve given me supplies to print out resumes and submit myself. They’ve given me a safe and secure place to live. (Twice in my nomad life I have actually slept in the offices where I worked.) They’ve fed me. They’ve provided me lasting friendships. They’ve given me paychecks.
More than anything, they’ve given me a strong platform to jump from in order to reach for my stars.

Thank you, office jobs, for giving me a future to look forward to.

Cheating and eating

Being honest is important to me. I want to present my true self to the world and stand behind everything I put out there. Otherwise why be here? Why live this life if not to inspire and help and guide the people around us? Being healthy, and representing a healthy lifestyle, is important to me. I want to inspire people to lead an honest and healthy life. My life’s purpose is starting to take shape and direction.

Today’s blog shows a weaker side of me. My food choices this weekend are not something I’m proud of. They’re also not something I want to hide, making my journey to good health look effortless. We all deal with temptations and choices. We all have low points in our personal journeys. My goal is to show it’s not the end of the world and we always have the choice to pick ourselves up and start over.

I don’t do well with deprivation. I’m fine if I can’t afford something. I’m fine if I want something and it’s not available. I can always make it work out. However, I am not okay if something I want is available, I can afford it and I can’t have it. Not sure what that says about me. Almost like I’m okay with the circumstances that are unchangeable, but if I can change it I will do everything in my power to get what I want.

Including cheat on my eating plan.

Like I mentioned in my last post , I cheated hard core on Sunday. Well, hard core for this low calorie phase of the lifestyle restructuring. I ate poorly with my mother at breakfast, and I loved every minute of it. I said no to the treats at the theater, but on the way home I stopped three times (THREE TIMES) to get something else I craved. I bought a Twix, a Kit-Kat, Spicy Doritos, Sour Cream Cheddar Ruffles, and a piece of red velvet cake. I didn’t eat the full package of any of these foods. I didn’t want them. I just wanted a taste. Of the five things I bought and tasted, the only good one was the Twix.

When I was done I looked at the food in the trash. I’d only eaten quarter of the cake, about 10 chips from each bag, one of the Twix bars, and only a bite of the Kit-Kat. I didn’t feel bad about what I had done. I truly enjoyed every first bite and was proud of myself for stopping when I did. At that point I was so racked with cravings I could have eaten 7-Eleven out of business. But I only had a few bites of each thing and then threw it away. I was more interested in the why.

Why did I do this? Why couldn’t I stop myself from buying everything I wanted? Why did I remain so strong for so long, only to fall so easily? Is there something about me that is so self-destructive I can’t say no, even when my health and well being are on the line? Why do I cheat?

I’m only hurting myself when I do. No one else has a dog in this fight. As a matter of fact, I have so many supporters in this journey it takes my breath away. Cast and crew at the theater, my co-worker, my mother…..I have people around me who are rooting for me and remind me I am worth this. So why, when I’m alone in my car, do I think it’s okay to let myself down?

I don’t know. After thinking about this for a few days I can look back and really think about why. I still don’t have an answer. Because I can? That’s weak. Because it’s there? Weak. Because I want it? Weak. I didn’t need the food. I was hungry, but I could have had an apple.

Maybe I did it to prove that I still have the choice. That I have the opportunity to cheat and I also have the power to give in. I can have the chocolate and the cheese and the fried foods. Go ahead Amie. No one is telling you that you can’t. But how did I feel after? Like a loser. Like a weak loser who was hiding in her car eating crap food like a fugitive. That’s nothing to be proud of. That’s the low.

Writing this now, I think I had to feel that I still have the choice so I can be strong enough to say no. I had to eat those foods again so I could feel that they truly aren’t worth it. I had to get that low in order to see how high I CAN go. I had see that I have the choice to say yes to the food, but the strongest Amie says yes to herself first.

The Strongest Amie eats whole foods and goes for long runs and smiles. The Strong Amie laughs with her friends, cooks fresh dinners and looks to the future. The Strong Amie looks at the choice she made on Sunday and high-fives herself for moving past it and moving on. The Strong Amie has a balance in her life. The Strong Amie is the one who will succeed.

Good luck out there.

HCG Week 3 – 162.4

I cheated this weekend. My mama was in town and we went out to eat. I have been so good! But having her around, feeling the comfort and the knowledge that she’ll love me no matter what I weigh, made it really easy to slip up. She’s so supportive of what I do, even reminding me to keep on track with my food, and I am so grateful for her love. I didn’t do too horribly...... Okay- that’s a lie. I fell apart epically on Sunday and it is chronicled in the next posting. However, when I got on the scale yesterday I was only up .4. (In this game that is a lot.)

So I did an apple day and I’m back on track.

I want my mom to be healthy. It is really hard for me to not pack up everything in a van and move home to be with her and help her and stay get healthy. Since hitting 50 she’s gained a lot of hormone weight and I know it bothers her. I want to be there for her. But since I can’t, I love her from here and support her from here. I have a feeling, with all the changes she is facing these next few months, she will put herself first again and will come around to the lifestyle and body she wants. I want her around for another 20+ years and that’s only going to happen if she’s healthy.

So, thanks to a VERY low calorie diet and the HCG, I’m down 9.2 lbs in two weeks. Not too shabby for someone who has never lost that much in two months. I see some of the physical differences: my clavicle is a bit more pronounced, my cheek bones are a little more defined and my ass is getting perkier. I can see where the weight is coming off, and it is such amazing motivation. Mentally, though, I feel like I am pounding at wall.

It’s a hard concept to try to put into words. I simply can’t feel it. I can’t trust it. I know I need to visualize myself down another 10 lbs, but I can’t seem to even think about it. Almost as soon as I allow myself the happiness of even imagining reaching my goal a dark shadow crosses my mind and I’m stopped. Am I afraid to achieve this? Am I panicking about actually losing the weight? I don’t get it.

Even as I talk to myself in the mirror, motivating myself to drink more water and not eat the cake, I don’t believe it. Even as I give myself pep talks after a slip, telling myself it’s okay and to move forward, all I see is failing and being stuck where I am. Reaching the 150s is completely doable by Friday. And yet I see nothing but cynicism when I say it. I don’t feel the conviction of actually completing this.
Can I really move forward with this experience and fully let go of the Amie that has been walking around all this time? Can I move into the next phase of my physical life and embrace the new me? Can I let go and move forward?

The goal for this week, week 3, is to weigh in under 160. The goal is to confidently reach the 150s. Trust that I deserve it, that I DO have the power to hit that goal and that I am capable of achieving this goal. I have to let go to grab on to the next future.

I have to let go. Bring it.

PS- I feel a little silly even saying these things because I know there are people struggling to lose huge amounts of weight. People who would happily celebrate 10lbs without over-thinking it. I hope this blog doesn't sound pretentious or like I'm trying to be something I'm not. Dealing with this is a real struggle and I can't put my finger on the "why". I'm trying to be the best Amie I can be, and I believe I'll be that without these next 10lbs.

Won't we all just die if it turns out they didn't matter at all?

Restating My Purpose-Driven Life

Go! Live your dream! Go enjoy your life.

Tonight I open Into The Woods as The Witch. I was walking around, warming up, last night and I stopped myself and took a deep breath. I sat with the realization that I get to play The Witch. I’m doing it. I looked to the sky and thanked the universe for this gift. For the validation, again, that I am on the right path and doing what I am meant to do.

A year ago I stood in the same courtyard, warming up for The Narrator in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It was also a part I had wanted to play for years. I took the same deep breath, looked to the sky and gave thanks. In the past 7 months I have played parts that have been on my wish list since high school: Reno in Anything Goes, Mayzie in Seussical and The Witch in ITW. I have managed to cross off almost my entire wish list in a 12 month period. That blows my mind.

I get to play The Witch. Even as I sit here, saying that sentence over and over, I can’t believe it’s true. Yet, here we are. Opening night. And I have never been more sure of anything.

As many of you know, I have been struggling with where I fit in this world. What am I “supposed” to be doing? Where can I best be used? What am I here for? I have thought about physical therapy, music therapy, event planning, marketing, nursing, teaching……anything and everything that sounded like it would help the world. Something I could do that would use my skills and be useful. I have taken business classes, talked with PTs and shadowed event planners. I have run around like a chicken for years, trying to find where I fit. All while doing shows and networking and finding my nitch in the theater world.

I fit on stage. I belong on stage. Never has that been clearer to me than this year. I believe in my heart, all the way down to my tired toes, that I belong in the theater community. As a tree, as a showgirl, as a witch…..whatever they’ll have me do. I love everything about this world and here is where I will make a difference.

Here is where I will give an extra hug to the little girl who needs one. Here is where I will guide new actors into the confidence building world that is live theater. Here is where I will look a fellow actor in the eye and give them the strength to "go there" because they trust I'll be there with them. Here is where I will hug someone a little longer, letting them know there are good people out there who care for them. Here is where I will make the world better.

It might seem like a silly thing, making the world better through theater, as an actor. And for a really long time I felt selfish and a little small minded for wanting to live my life on the stage. But it’s not. It’s not selfish to want to affect people and touch them and allow them the freedom to feel things. It’s not selfish to want to make people laugh and enjoy life. It’s not selfish to offer mental release from stress and pain. It’s not selfish to motivate people to get out there and live their dream and make their world the best it can be. And it’s certainly not selfish to live a life that is filled with purpose, where I feel completely fulfilled by the universe.

I might never buy a big house with a full sized theater. I might never retire. I might never have the latest gadgets or movies or books. I might never take lavish vacations or travel the world with nothing but my expensive camera in my hand. I might never…..a lot of things. The reality of being a working actor is a small bank account.

But here is what I will have. I will have the confidence and faith that I am doing God’s work and using the talents I have been given. I will have peace in knowing that I changed lives and made a difference in people. I will have the joy in a world filled with my family, my friends and people I love dearly. I will have peace that I used my time here to the best of my ability. I will have comfort that comes with knowing I have a dream, I’m living my dream and I’m working my ass off to make all my dreams a reality.

This does not, however, lessen my determination to marry a Prince and get those new expensive gadgets. A Princess is allowed more than one dream, right?

HCG Week 2 – Yes To the Future

Here we go. I am down 6 lbs this week (165.4) and am really excited to see what happens next. I just need to stay the course and keep strong.

Keep strong.

That’s not easy. Over the weekend I was tempted a LOT. Breaking the habit of eating at drive-thrus after rehearsal only took a few days. You just put the blinders on and drive home. Breaking the habit of taquitos and an iced tea before shows was easy. You just stop going to 7-eleven. I knew those habits were coming. It’s the surprise attacks from the outside world I’m still learning to be more mentally prepared for.

Saturday there was a cast BBQ and when I got to the theater, after a 6 hour tech for my next show, I saw nothing but treats. Literally everything I ate to gain these 20lbs was sitting there; ice cream, brownies, homemade cookies, pizza and chocolate. It was really hard to say no. Really hard. It would have been so easy to say, “Oh I’ll have a tiny bite.” Or just a small spoonful of ice cream. Or a piece of the chocolate bar. I knew it wasn’t going to really hurt me.

Or would it?

I have cheated on every diet I’ve been on. Even when I was a vegan I would cheat and have bakery items I knew had eggs and butter in them. I don’t want to be a cheater any more. I want to be confident that I am strong enough to say “no”. Especially to something as silly and inconsequencial as ice cream. Baby steps to saying no in other parts of my life.

Saturday night was the Seussical girls sleep-over, complete with junk food galore. This time it was all the salty foods I love; chips with french onion dip, carmel sauce, popcorn. I remained strong, eating apple slices and seaweed. I ate more calories than I was supposed to, but they were all approved and I felt that was a win for me. I remained stronger than the food. Even in the morning when it was free food (something I hate saying “no” to) and the hotel had panckae wrapped sausages. I love that! But I said “no”. Because I know that every time I say “no” to the now I am truly saying “yes” to the future.

Sunday morning at tech I was met with donuts, one of my biggest downfalls, and I was tempted once again. But I remained strong. It was REALLY hard!! I was actually surprised at how difficult it was to not eat them. It’s just food!

Then sushi Sunday night with the cast. A revolving sushi bar with every kind of sushi one could want. It was a little piece of heaven! I’m telling you, the universe put up a good fight these past two days. It threw all my favorites at me, yet I remained strong. And I went to sleep on Sunday quite proud of myself.

I didn’t cheat. I didn’t eat the foods I’m not supposed to. I stayed the course and remained strong. This is huge! I succeeded in being true to my goal and trusting that the outcome is worth putting off satisfaction. That is a reallybig deal.

The kicker? And the thing that tells me my lesson is not over? This morning I weighed myself and the scale didn’t move. Not an ounce. However, instead of beating myself up and turning to the sweets with a “What does it matter” attitude, I’m breathing and staying strong and keeping on the food protocol. Drinking more water and trusting the process. The universe tried to derail me again, this time with something it knew would hurt me. I remained strong. I am strong. I WILL do this and I will succeed.

Then I will have celebrate with some soy ice cream!

HCG- Friday success

I weighed myself this morning and had lost another pound (166). It seemed too good to be true. I stared at the number and started to tear up. I am doing this. This weight is coming off. I don’t know why I didn’t believe it would happen. People lose weight all the time. I just don’t feel like I deserve it and that once it happens, what will I do?

Those are two huge things to think about. I don’t deserve it? Who doesn’t deserve to be healthy and happy? Who doesn’t deserve to look great? Who doesn’t deserve to be rewarded for their hard work? What about me makes me feel a sense of shock and fear when I see something I’m working towards start to actually happen. I’m succeeding. So why am I scared?

And the issue of actually completing a task? Finishing something? This is a good thing Amie! This is a great thing, and I will succeed. It’s okay to be good at something and have a tangible outcome.

I’m not sure why I have such a block with this. I’m not sure why it scares me to lose this weight, so succeed, to be happy and have one less obstacle in my life. But it does.

As I look down at my belly, my “trouble spot” I realize I’m comfortable here. That’s no good. I have to get out of this comfort zone. I have to push myself harder and work smarter to lose this weight and become the brilliant working machine I know I can be. I have to go through these painful mental times and push into calm, powerful self esteem. I have quit too many times before because I was afraid to succeed. That has to stop. No more excuses. No more comfortable. No more imaginary issues that hold me back. It’s time to move forward.

Vying for Disasterella

www.disasteronheels.com

I came upon this blog through a friends Twitter account. (I love social media so much!) I fell in love with the name and then the writing. I realized I had found a kindered spirit in the blog-universe and someone I wanted to get to know, even if it remained a one-way relationship. I'm kind of used to those.

Then on Tuesday she posted her Walk of Shame video and a reminder she was still taking submission for Disasterella. Disasterella?!!? That is ME! All that was needed was a good Walk of Shame story. Well, if nothing else I have at least a dozen WOS stories that display my love of living life to the fullest.

I email her four options and ask her which one she wants to hear. She emails back that afternoon with palpable excitment, telling me she loves my stories and any one of them would work. And maybe she would like all of them to do a feature about me on her blog. Shut up! Yes, please!!

Here is what I sent her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wake up and look at the wall next to me. It takes me a minute to realize I don’t recognize it. At all. I slowly turn my head to the side in an effort to get my bearings. I see the tell-tale bars of a hostel bunk bed. I wouldn’t have known this before last week, but since this is the seventh hostel in as many days, I’m getting used to memorizing the color of the beds. I’m pretty sure I’m still in Brussels, home of the blue-railing hostel. As I roll over to my stomach, getting on my hands and knees in an effort to keep my head from spinning, I feel my shirt stick to me. I realize with a frown that I am wet. Sopping wet, head to toe, along one side of my body. And I’m not wearing pants.

What?

I am not wearing pants. And I have to pee. I slowly move over to get off the bed when I see that I am on the top bunk. I look over the side, hoping my pants will be lying-in-wait for me to rescue them from their leg-less existence. My cursory look with blood-shot eyes reveals I have nothing there. Not my backpack or my purse…..or traveling companion. I take a deep breath and realize with a smack of confusion that I am in the wrong bed, in the wrong room and I’m still not sure if I’m even in the right hostel.

I peel the sheet off me and assess my situation. I have to get down the bunk bed ladder, preferrably without vomiting everywhere. I soon discover there is no graceful way to do this. I crawl down, ass in the air, praying quietly no one would wake up to my decending thong. I see 5 people in their beds, all sound asleep. As I pull my clothes away from my body- Why am I wet?!!?- I double check that my travel companion is for certain not in the room. He is not. There is nothing for me to do but walk through the hostel and hope to find him. In my underwear.

I have a fleeting thought that a shower might be nice, but since I cannot find my pants I’m certain a towel is not in my near future.

I open the door out to the hall, positioning a random shoe in the automatically-locking doorway in case I have to return. I walk down the hall, my urge to find my pants trumped by my need to find a bathroom. I succeed in finding the ladies room and splash some water on my face. The shower taunts me, but I tap the door with resignamtion and continue on my search. With newfound determination I head out to find my companion, and my pants.

Three doors, and room searches later, I find him, sleeping soundly. On the top bunk. At this point I am so happy to see him I no longer care that I have to climb, ass out, up to see him. This time with the tell-tale stirrings of people waking up so I’m certain the thong show was seen in all its glory. I also am too happy to see him to consider that he might not want a soaking wet, pantless, hungover girl crawling in bed with him. He didn’t. I was greeted with a groggy “Why the HELL are you wet?!!?”

I answer him with a pat him on the cheek and ly down next to him, squeezing myself next to him on the twin-sized bed, slyly stealing the covers from him. He tells me my pants are in my backpack, which is on my bed underneath us. I smile and tell him to wake me when it’s time to go. He laughs sinisterly, tells me the train leaves in 45 minutes and to get my pants on.

45 minutes? Apparently my hangover will follow us to Bruge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There you go. I hope she likes it. I hope I win. If nothing else, this might lead me to a double sided-relationship and a new blogging friend. There are worse things.

HCG- Days 3-5

168.4

Good morning to me! I am so eager to wake up every morning and see what the scale says. This fast dropping is exactly what I need to keep me motivated. And believe me, with a diet that is just veggies, protein and 2 fruits a day, I need all the motivation I can find.

Monday was a difficult day. I woke up with a pounding red wine headache from dinner the night before. The steak house with my girls was so much fun, and exactly what I needed as a “last supper” sort of thing, although my bank account disagrees with me. I spent much of Monday with a headache, which I was ready for. Everything I read said headaches are a side effect. I can handle a headache. It’s a small price to pay for a svelte, healthy figure.

Food on Monday- a grapefruit, 4 melba crackers, sliced chicken breast, green beans, tuna fish, 2 small cucumbers, and an apple. Along with lots of green tea, herbal tea and about a gallon of water. The water is the biggest part. I already drink a lot, but with this eating protocol they ask for even more. So I’m doing it.

I felt tired and awful Monday. No sense in denying it. I wasn’t hungry, but I was a little grumpy. At rehearsal I got a little light headed, but remedied it with more water. I'm sure the lightheaded-ness was more from the mask, gloves and cloak the Witch wears. I'm sweating buckets!

Tuesday was more of the same. Grapefruit, 5 shrimp, cauliflower, sliced chicken, 2 plums, 4 melba crackers, a tomato, water and tea. I added in a few cups of black coffee because I didn’t want the same headache I had on Monday. There are hunger pangs, but nothing that is going to kill me. I truly hate being hungry, but I’m learning it’s not the worst thing in the world. I always have something to eat with me, so when I start to get hungry to the point of sick I just pop in a tomato or cucumber slice. It’s not amazing, but it works. In the past, when I have tried calorie counting diets or deprivation diets, I always give up when I get truly hungry, falling into the “life is too short to be hungry” frame of mind. Life is short. But this eating pattern is only 30 days. I can feel hunger a few times because the pay off is worth it.

Things I’m noticing:

- I feel lighter. Maybe it's all in my head, but I am noticing that I just feel cleaner and less worn down in my body. I no longer feel like I don't fit in my skin. It's a hard thing to explain, but it's there. I also felt this way when I became vegan and gave up dairy. The first few days you really start to feel that layer of lactose clear out of your system. It's wonderful.

- Doesn’t take so much to fill me up. I used to be able to eat an entire medium pizza. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s good for a comparison. These days I’m eating really small portions more frequently and I have a hard time even finishing an apple. I know I need to eat all my calories for the day so I force myself to finish. Instead of three meals I am having better luck with 6 small meals spaced throughout the day. Plus it gives me something to look forward to.

- The cravings for crap food are still here. I got into some amazingly bad habits these past two months. Drive-thrus on the way home from rehearsal was the worst and I am feeling it this week. I wasn’t really hungry last night on my way home from rehearsal, but I wanted to stop and get something to eat. Simply because I wanted to. So instead I went to the supermarket and bought food to cook and eat for the next three days. Cooking was wonderful. I haven’t cooked for myself in a really long time. I think I had spaghetti in June. Seriously, that’s the last time I made something for myself to eat.

- I’m surprised to find myself less distracted by boys. Apparently I have an obsessive personality and always need to be thinking about how to do something. All of July I was thinking about boys and how to snag one. Apparently August is going to be about food and how I can survive without my bad habits. Boys included.

- I really want a milk shake

I am down three pounds. That is a big deal. This is working. It is difficult. It takes work and planning and commitment. It takes having the strength to tell myself “no” and honestly be okay with it. I am learning a lot about what I need and what I want.

Most importantly, I’m learning that I am worth putting in the effort.

HCG- Days 1&2- Two days of EATING!!

My favorite part of this diet, other than the projected weight loss? Phase 1. During the first two days on the drops you are asked to eat high calorie, high fat foods to stimulate your hypothalamus gland and store up calories with the hormone now in your system. Whipped cream on that? Yes please! Milk shake? Yup. Fries? Well, I don’t usually eat french fries, onion rings are my weakness, but sure! Two days of saying yes to everything.

These two days are also a time to say good bye to foods since the diet is so strict for 30 days. And ultimately I will not return to these negative eating habits, so it’s a true good-bye. Here is what I ate Saturday and Sunday:

Saturday- large blended mocha with whipped cream, two donuts, foot-long Italian subway sandwich with cheese, ravioli, cheese bread, 24oz beer, frozen yogurt, linguine, jack and coke, Taco Bell big box. (whew! That’s a lot of food)

Good bye donuts, blended mochas, Taco Bell and cheesy Italian food.

Sunday- McGriddle, large iced Carmel mocha with whipped cream, 7-11 taquitos, another iced coffee, cheeseburger, strawberry milkshake, filet mignon, Cesar salad, mashed potatoes, mac n cheese, ice cream, bottle of wine and shots.

Goodbye McDonalds, In-n-Out, 7-Eleven, and ice cream

There you go. Food I will not eat again for a month. There are no cheat days on this food plan. Looking at that food list I’m impressed and a little ill. This is not the food of a healthy person. This is someone who doesn’t care and is just eating because she feels she deserves it. No one deserves to treat their body like this. It’s a machine that needs love and nurturing and good fuel. The sad part? I felt great all weekend. No bloating or upset stomach or anything. That only tells me I am in deeper than I thought. My body should be repelling these foods, not accepting them as par for the course.

Tomorrow starts the 1000 calorie days for a month. 30 days of conscious choices and smart food plans. 30 days of getting back in touch with my body, why I eat what I eat and why I feel I “should”. It’s only 30 days of saying “no” and drinking tea instead of beer. 30 days to change my life forever? I can do this. I have to do this.

Here’s to tomorrow!

HCG- Why this one?

After weeks of reading every article online I decided on doing the HCG diet. Trust me, I didn’t enter into this lightly. As a struggling artist and soon to be starving grad student I certainly don’t have the $100 to spend on something other than getting out of debt. And, like always, I wanted to be able to be strong and say “If I just work harder I can do this without paying for programs or anything”. But when I’m honest with myself I see that I am not that strong. I don’t do well with long-term incentives. I promised myself a trip to Vegas and a new white bikini if I lost 20 lbs in 6 months and I couldn’t do it. I’m actually heavier than when I set that goal in January. I know that I need something with lighting fast results that will change my life. HCG sets that standard.

There is a lot of information about the HCG diet. More than I can put here. Plus you’ll want to do your own reading if you’re interested. The gist of the diet is HCG is the hormone that pregnant women use to pull nutrition from their body to feed the fetus. Oor bodies are pretty brilliant. Dr. Simione discovered that if he injected this hormone into non-pregnant people their bodies will start to use the stored calories the same way. Fast forward 54 years and I’m ordering it online. The claim is a woman can lose 20 lbs in a month (men upwards of 30lbs the first month) and keep it off because your body readjusts itself. Like a resetting. I have been this weight for 3 years. I need something to shake things up and get moving in the right direction.

The saying “If it’s too good to be true it probably is” might work with this diet. Afterall, of COURSE I’m going to lose weight quickly. I’m restricting my calories to 1000 a day, cutting out dairy, carbs and sugar. I’m obviosuly going to lose weight. However, the drops (whether placebo effect or true help) are what’s going to keep me in line and successful. I have to take the drops 3 times a day. So three times a day I am forced to re-evaluate what I’m doing and look at my choices. I can’t just blindly go through life any more, not paying attention to the outcome of my actions.

I got the drops this morning and I am ready to roll. I have a vision of what I’m going to look like in 30 days. I have motivation. My co-worker is doing it as well, giving me a burst of support. I am being open and honest with everyone so there is an understanding that this is important to me and I am determined to succeed.

I am doing this!

Time to work through the weight pain

I currently weigh 172.2 pounds. It’s hard for me to write that, let alone put it online where everyone can read it. 172 is an ugly number to me. One that I am not proud of. I see that and all I think is "I'm fat. I can't possibly be that weight. What the hell?!!?"

I don’t look like I weigh that much. I carry myself well, dress for my shape and position myself correctly when I take picture. But I weigh 172 pounds. That's the hard truth and and there’s no reason to hide behind it any more. There is such a stigma to the numbers on the scale and we are raised to never ask a woman’s weight or her age. I want to beat down that notion and learn to be at peace with my weight.

However, being at peace is not the same as being complacent, which is what I have been. Today I weigh the same as I did three years ago when I lost my father. I ate everything with him and then when he died I kept eating, didn’t care about calories or fat or the repercussions. I felt life was too short to say “no” any more and I wanted to enjoy life. And I have. I love my life and the people I share it with. And I know they all love me no matter what the scale says. There is great comfort and support in that.

I have tried diets and working out, Jenny Craig, low-carb and low-calories, personal trainers and endurance event training. Nothing has helped shed these extra 20lbs. I’m certain age is also a factor since I haven’t been able to lose since turning 30. It’s frustrating. I get fired up about losing the weight, read about every diet possible and then a week into it find a reason to stop. Usually it’s because I’m tired of feeling deprived. I won’t lie- more than once I have justified my poor eating with “I don’t have a father, might as well eat.” Or, “I’m going to die in 20 years any way. Why deny myself?” Or, “It’s not worth worrying about; weight doesn’t matter because my dad is gone.” It’s not a pretty picture to paint for myself, but there it is. I have been hiding behind my grief and allowing my weaker self to take over, and it has wreaked havoc on my body. I’m done.

The time has come to work through all the pain and self-esteem issues I am carrying. These extra pounds are all just bad choices. It’s sleeping instead of going to the gym. It’s justifying the drive-thru instead of being honest with myself and saying I don’t really need it. It’s looking for instant gratification with the joy of food instead of learning patience and calm and respect for myself.

It’s time to love myself, and that means putting my food choices and health before the fear that I’m going to miss something. I eat because there is a part of me that truly feels I could die tomorrow so why not enjoy life today. Living in fear is no way to live. I have no interest in dying at 52. I plan to live to be over 100. I have no interest in hiding in flowing skirts and sweatpants because nothing fits. I want to enjoy fashion and my body. I am very comfortable in my skin right now. I have no trouble getting naked in front of people because I accept that this is where my body is now and worrying about it, or hiding “seductively” under a sheet isn’t going to change anything. Part of getting older is accepting where we are in life and who we are, and then working hard to be better. Part of living is seeing there is a way out of any tunnel you’ve dug for yourself. The digging starts now.

I am 172.2 pounds. It’s too heavy for my size. It’s too heavy for my comfort. It’s not who I am. But I'm posting this number so I have a starting place and a jumping off point. This number is going to go down. It's going to change. I want proof that my hard work paid off.

I am not going to quit on myself this time. I'm too important to live half a life.

Brown teeth- pissed off actress

DO NOT USE CREST PRO-HEALTH MOUTHWASH!!!

DO NOT USE CREST PRO-HEALTH MOUTHWASH!!!

DO NOT USE CREST PRO-HEALTH MOUTHWASH!!!

Last night, after returning home from a wonderful day at the faire, I went to floss my teeth. I had eaten a LOT of food and wanted a fresh start in the morning. I looked at my bottom teeth and saw brown stains all over the sides. Dark brown stains that caused me worry. I looked like a smoker. My teeth are usually beautiful and clean, something I pride myself on. Yet here I was with teeth like a 90-yr-old tobacoo chewer.

Needless to say, I freaked out. I flossed, literally scraping the sides of my teeth in an effort to get the brown off. Nothing. I rinsed with Crest Pro-Health mouthwash (like I do twice a day, every day) and brushed my teeth for an extra 2 minutes. I went to sleep, hoping the problem was on it's way out of my life.

This morning the stains were still there so I went online. What did I find? Since 2008 there have been complaints to Proctor and Gamble about this product turning teeth brown. WHAT?!!? Websites all over the web had testimonies from people about how their teeth had turned brown after usuing the mouthwash.

I am livid. I emailed the company today and am writing this bog as more proof of how Crest screwed over their customers. Apparently there is a very small warning on the bottle, telling us there is a slight possibility of staining. That is useless to me. Who reads the BACK of a mouthwash bottle? Especially on a product from a company as respected as P&G?

Most of the posts from denists and consumers alike say I have to go in and get it profesisonally done. They say it's possible, but time consuming. However, I will also start using Listerine again (like I should have done in the first place) and brushing with baking soda, rinsing with peroxide. I cannot have permanently stained teeth. I have a career that is dependant on looks. I refuse to work my ass of to lose these next 20 lbs only to be benched by a teetch cleaning product.

Needless to say, I will not be using this product again. I will not use anything Crest again, and will think twice before buying anything P&G. I will also use every outlet in my power to make sure no one else uses it. Crest has lost my loyalty and my business for the rest of my life. I have to go to the dentist (without dental insurance) and pay for a cleaning, which I can't afford. Otherwise I'll have the teeth of a smoker. And who wants to hire a princess who looks like a smoker?

I am pissed. And disappointed in P&G. This will teach me to not trust big companies any more than I need to.

DO NOT USE CREST PRO-HEALTH MOUTHWASH!!!