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Posted by BRUNI514, on 11-03-2008 06:46, , Registered 1. dentist So when's the next appointment?   » Reply to this comment... Posted by astorer, on 19-02-2008 07:48, , Registered 2. YAY! YAY! Congrats Veronica! I've known you for years and you've always been shy to even talk about this subject... now, you're really confronting the issue and doing something about it! I'm really really really really proud of you!!!   » Reply to this comment...

Last update: 28-01-2008 20:15

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Alright, let me explain.  My lack of blogs isn’t because I don’t feel like writing or anything, it’s just that there really hasn’t been much to report on to all my faithful readers.  I wanted to wait until I had something new to talk about—I’d hate to bore all you fabulous ladies (and gentleman too) with the same old song and dance every week!

Well, now there is something to share, and it’s a little sad.  I said from the get-go that I was going to share everything so that everyone can see (well, read) first hand what this is all like for a REAL person, not some girl that you don’t even know is real.  So, with that, comes the good, and now comes the bad.  Let me say too that I feel like a kid telling her parents the truth about something horrible they did, knowing how disappointed they will be when it’s all put on the table.  *Whew…deep breath*  OK, here it goes.

I smoked…a few times...ok, ok, more than a few, BUT less than 10 (as if that helps any).

 Alright, I give you all permission to groan, throw your hands up, flip me off—whatever suits your fancy.  Now let me explain myself before I get burned at the stake.

I went out with some friends down to KY and ran into this guy I knew from high school.  We were BS-ing for a bit and he was smoking, saying that he can’t believe he started again.  So I say how I’ve been clean since February, and like the little evil spawn of Satan, he hands me his cigarette and tells me to try it out.  Oh, how the soft smoke rings beckoned me—like little smoky fingers giving me the “come hither” gesture.  I looked over my shoulder, told one of my friends not to tell anyone, and I did it.   It was a menthol, different from my old Camel Lights, but wow, did it taste so smooth.  I was surprised how easy it was to inhale—it’s like the old adage about riding a bike.  So we finished that one off together and I went about my way.

I did pretty good, I didn’t ask for one to go, didn’t bum any from the people I was with...I just went on about the night like it didn’t even happen.  Well, we get home and now I got a hankering for another one, so I make them take me to the gas station ‘cause I wanted menthols.  So now I have purchased a pack.  Great job girl, way to jump off the bandwagon.

Well, I smoked a few that night and one in the morning to burn off the remnants of a headache (mind you I haven’t been drinking in a long time—didn’t take me much), but I had still had almost a full pack.  Later in the week I was soooooo hacked off about something, and I heard them calling to me.  It was like that snake charmer music was playing in my head, and wouldn’t you know it, out popped one of those cigarettes from the box in my purse.  I lit ‘er up and about choked.  It tasted like crap—absolute crap.  I seriously wanted to get sick.  How the heck did something taste like a little puff of heaven a few days ago, and now it tasted like pure poo?  So I got rid of them—I gave them to a gal at work the next day.

Alright, so now you are thinking, “Good job, you got rid of them!”  Don’t forgive me so fast.  I went out the following weekend, and my taste buds started craving one.  Of course, inebriated, I cave—and between the two weekend nights, I finish off a pack.  Now mind you, I feel like crap come Sunday.  My lungs feel like I sucked in a pound a concrete, and then I start feeling a little stuffy in the sinuses.

Then she comes in like a hurricane off the coast.  A sinus infection.  The one thing that can knock me out of the ballpark; the one thing that can take me out with a 1-2-3 punch.  Here is the thing, I haven’t had one since I quit.  Then I started thinking, I got them when I started smoking, then I remembered my throat would always close up when I helped my uncle strip tobacco.  Hmmm, something isn’t right here.  After looking back at when they started and talking with my doctor, we came to the conclusion that I am allergic to the tobacco plant, which in turn caused my sinuses to become inflamed, which ultimately resulted in my horrible sinus infections.

Talk about karma...and the answer to my medical history.  Those sorry S.O.B.’s were the reason I was sick 4-5 times a year with killer sinus infections.  That’s a b*tch if I’ve ever seen one.  So a dose of antibiotics and nasal meds later, I’m better, and questioning why I even did it in the first place.  I tell myself I can handle it just when I go out and have some spirits (that’s my fancy way of putting it) and that they obviously don’t appeal to me any other time, but I can’t keep telling myself that.  The good doc told me that I am too new to it, and the next thing you know I will be smoking a pack a day again.  Plus I can’t take the badgering from my parents—yes, even at 25 years of age, they still get to me.

Ugh, I hate it when everyone is right.  So that’s my confession.  That’s the ugly thing that I did.  Forgive me readers, for I have sinned.  I don’t know what is gonna happen next time I am out, but if one thing keeps me from picking up a pack of smokes, it will be my sinuses.  Well, that and getting my butt chewed by my parents and you guys.

Last update: 28-07-2007 09:08

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Geesh, I’m really behind on blogging!  I’m also behind on finding a dentist/orthodontist/administer of severe pain to handle the serious dental work I need done.  One thing and I’ll get off my soapbox…why, if I pay dental insurance, why can’t every dentist be in my network?  We all pay it—what’s the difference when it doesn’t begin to cover the expensive stuff?!   OK, I’m done.

At any rate, I had another milestone this week—if that’s what we are calling them these days.  I went shopping.  Not just a trip to the athletic store for shoes or to the jewelry store for a necklace, but an arms loaded, 2 hours in one store, girl time shopping trip.  One of my friends was in town and we met up for some dinner and a round at Tri-County Mall.  We walk in, and what store do we go in first?  None other than my all time favorite, New York & Company.  At this moment all hell broke loose—they were having a sale.

So I proceed to go rack to rack, rummaging through the items like a mad woman.  My eyes glistened with each sales tag I saw, and I soon found myself in that euphoric state from the smell of brand new clothes.  Then it dawned on me—was I getting the right size?  Besides the one shirt I spotted at Fashion Bug while looking for a new belt, this is the first time I actually went clothes shopping.  I quickly panicked, but snapped out of it just as fast.  I grabbed the sizes that looked best, and continued on my merry way through the store.

Next stop, the dressing room.  Ugh, the horrid dressing room.   That 4x4 box that can make the shirt that looked hot on the mannequin, look like crap on you.  It can make a young woman’s dream of “the perfect jeans” go down the toilet.  With arms piled, I headed to the chamber of truth.  “Dead man walking!  Dead man walking here!”  OK, so it wasn’t The Green Mile, but it wasn’t the Yellow Brick Road either.  I had flash backs to my old jeans.  “Dear God,” I prayed, “please let something fit good!”

I tried on the first shirt and a miracle happened.  It fit.   Not just I could get it on without busting the seams, but it fit good.  To be honest, it fit great.  “Damn, I look pretty good!”  I thought to myself.  I don’t know why it has taken me so long to believe that, but at that moment in the fitting room, felt so proud of myself.  I put another top on, and another, and then another.  Each one fit beautifully.  I couldn’t believe it—everything fit that I tried on, but hey, I have worked my butt, and gut, off to get here.  I actually walked out of the dressing room without the disappointment of hanging something I loved back up because I couldn’t get it on.  I couldn’t tell you the last time that happened, but it’s been way too long.

I guess the only thing to fear now is racking up the credit card buying new clothes.  I guess it’s a good thing I’m one heck of bargain shopper! (which by the way, $200 worth of clothes for $60!!!  Thank you, thank you...I'll sign autographs later.)  

Last update: 20-06-2007 21:05

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Last update: 06-06-2007 13:38

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I just finished making cookies.  Literally, I just pulled the last tray out of the oven.  “WHAT???” you ask, “COOKIES???  That’s not healthy eating!!!”  Well, I thought I could do it.  Make healthy cookies, that is.  I even have to laugh as I just typed it—that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard it, right?

I guess my infatuation with healthy desserts started a month or so ago when I was watching good old PBS.  There was this recipe for a blueberry dish that is similar to a blueberry cobbler, only with a fraction of the sugar and fat.  I was caught—hook, line, and sinker.  Here I had this delectable dish that tasted better than the real thing and I was able to eat it completely guilt free!  Ahh, how wonderful this new lifestyle is!

Now, I consider myself to be a good cook.  I’ve always been drawn to the kitchen, even since I was a baby (my mom couldn’t cook a single dinner without me on her hip—but then again I might have just had clingy-baby-syndrome).  I had my kiddie grocery cart, a Playskool Kitchen, the Easy Bake Oven—my love of cooking grew with each age.  At any rate, I think I started cooking full meals by the time I was 12.  I loved experimenting with everything from sauces and seasonings to baked goods and desserts—I learned how to make things without the help of a box or a freezer bag.  I even used to cook full meals for 6 or 7 hard working guys every night, making roasts, casseroles, even chicken made to each their liking.

I guess you all get the big picture—I’m a Martha Stewart-wanna-be of sorts.  I love the country cooking.  I can salivate like Pavlov’s dogs when someone mentions homemade Chicken n’ Dumplins.  Obviously the healthier eating has its limits when it comes to the down home cookin’, but all this fresh stuff has its perks.  That large scoop of butter in the collard greens is done away with, and the mound of cheese on chili is null and void, but I do have to say that my waist isn’t really missing all that grease.

OK, back to the big picture here—my cookies.

So I get this genius idea to make my favorite cookie recipe with all the substitutions.  I bought that Splenda/Sugar mix and the Splenda brown sugar mix at the store for starters.  Then I hopped on the ever so handy internet, Googled something like “healthy baking substitutes”, and did what I thought was useful research.   I checked the conversions of whole eggs to egg whites, and searched like a mad woman for butter substitutes.  I found this one site that said, “Don’t bother trying to substitute butter, work on lessening the amount—it turns your recipe to crap,” or something to that effect.  I had this stuff called whole wheat pastry flour here from that blueberry dish, which just so happened to be an “excellent substitute for cookies”.

I started mixing my ingredients.  I ended up using 1 egg and 2 egg whites, 1 stick of butter and ½ cup OJ (that was the best substitute I found), and only half the bag of chocolate chips.  I licked the beaters and though, “Dang, doesn’t taste too bad!”  I patted myself on the back and continued on.  So I dolloped the dough on the cookie sheets and stuck the first batch in.  I cracked open the oven at about minute five to check the status on my little wonders.  “Hmm…that doesn’t look right.”

What should have been a cookie smoothly spreading out with the edges slightly cooked was still a lump of dough.  My hopes and dreams of a glorious victory at the Betty Crocker healthy cookie bake-off slowly started to fade.  I moved the rack up and added a few more minutes to the timer, then sighed disgustedly at myself.  The timer finally buzzed and the moment of truth came.  They didn’t look like they normally did, but they were done.  After sticking the second tray in, I waited a minute and attempted my first taste.

They are the NASTIEST cookies I have ever put in my mouth.  They taste like mini sponges with a hint of chocolate.  A dog would probably rather lick his own butt over eating one of those cookies.  The NHL called—they want to use them for pucks.  Of course this is just my opinion—I had high hopes and they were shattered.  My dad says they taste good, but this is coming from the guy who likes to eat the burned cookies of a batch.  I suppose they aren’t as bad as I am making them out to be, but honestly I would rather just have one of the real recipe than three of my crap shoot.

I don’t have the patience to try recipe after recipe adjusting my ingredients—I’ll just stick with the original.  So moral of the story is this:  substitutions and fake ingredients make for one nasty cookie.  Pass me the real butter, real sugar, and a whole bag of chocolate chips please!  As for my cookies, I think I might try selling them as pavers.

Last update: 05-06-2007 17:42

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Alright, let me set the mood…

It’s Friday afternoon.  I just got home from a long, long work week.  I’m killing some time before I run some errands by going through some things in my bedroom and rummaging through some old pictures.  “Man,” I think to myself, “I never realized how much weight I put on.”  I thumb through some more, thinking back to how a girl never realizes how beautiful she really was in high school.  I pause on a few, laughing in remembrance of what incredibly stupid and silly thing I was doing at the time the picture was taken, and sigh when I find an old prom picture.  Funny how we waste all those years trying to look one way, thinking we are never beautiful enough, never truly appreciating what we really looked like, isn’t it?

Then it hits me.  My head perks up like one of those prairie dogs.  I scamper up off the ground like a kid on Christmas morning and run to the other side of my bed.  Slowly, I lean over, pull my blanket up, and slide out a long, smooth container.  I eagerly wiggle the container out completely and pause for a moment in anticipation. “Should I do this?” I ask myself, “Is it time?”  “Yes,” say aloud, “it is.”

It was at that moment my heart started to quicken.  I had one of those tight lipped smiles—the kind of smile that appears when you are a given a gift and you really hope it’s what you wanted.  I snapped open the lid, setting it aside, and I stopped.  I just stared at the contents for a second thinking of the disappointment I might feel had I should have waited.  “No,” I told myself, “just do it.”  I grabbed one of favorites.  I stood back up, and let it fall open, sizing it up and inspecting every small detail.  I prepared myself and then held it back up in the air. 

I took a breath, turned to face the mirror, and pulled one foot through.  I quickly pulled the other foot through.  I stared at myself in my full-length mirror and continued pulling up.  I heard music—the tune from Rocky was softly beginning to run through my head.  I watched myself continue pulling up and the music got louder.  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” I repeated over and over.  I went past my knees, past my thighs, over my butt, and then….

I buttoned them!  No sucking in, no lying on the bed, no need for pliers to pull the zipper up—they fit!  Yes ladies and gentlemen, I did it.  I FINALLY fit into those old jeans!

I kid you not; I jumped up and down, laughing and clapping my hands.  I even started to tear up.  I turned and checked out the view from the back; I turned again and checked the view from the side.  I started jumping up and down again.  Hands on my face, I stood there and stared.

THAT, my friends, is the feeling of accomplishment.  I have worked since February on this.  I made a lifestyle change for the better.  I am 14 weeks smoke free, 20+ pounds lighter, and man oh man, does it feel good!

Next stop—the dentist.  It’s time to make that change that started all of this.  Oh how I hate the dentist, but it’s time to complete the package.  Mental goal picture, here I come!

Last update: 20-05-2007 19:50

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Well everyone, I finally caved.  After 2 ½ months of working my butt off and resisting temptation every stinkin’ Friday night, I went for it.  I had…

…LaRosa’s,

Ahh, my love affair with pizza was rekindled, and the fire between me and Veggie Primavera burned again.  Our bond is strong my friends—strong as the most passionate love that walks this great earth.  OK, not really, but it sure felt like it.

So it all started once again with my prego friend.  She oh so kindly picked me up during my oil change, and from there we decided where to eat.  The only problem at that point—we both weren’t really hungry.  So we cruised on into Lawrenceburg debating where we should go.  God bless her.  She knows I’m watching what I eat now and she is so understanding, which for a pregnant chick, is a miracle all in its own.  However, even though I’ve never had the joy of expecting, I still know that when a pregnant woman thinks something sounds good, you should accommodate it.

We went back and forth, “I don’t care, you are watching what you eat,” then I’d retort, “I don’t care either, you are pregnant.”  After a while, back at the lot to pick up my Jeep, she started to stare off into the distance just north of where we stood and got quiet.  She looked at me like a little girl does when she asks her dad for something and sheepishly asked, “Do you know what sounds good?”  She nodded her head in that direction and said, “A tuna hoagie.”  Just like the North Star, I knew where I needed to go.  “I can do that.”  As I said it, I swear I heard a piper playing old Colonial tunes, with a drummer rat-tat-tatting on the way to battle.  The sun was going down behind me, and as my hair blew in the wind like the flags from the car lot, I accepted my challenge.

When I walked through the door of LaRosa’s, my senses went into overload.  The warm, sweet smell of rising dough and melting mozzarella lingered heavily in the air, and for a moment my heart skipped a beat.  We sat down, Dee laughed, and asked, “So what are you going to get?”  Without hesitation, I hurriedly responded, “Personal/Small, Prima Veggie, pan crust.”  OK, so I knew the pan crust shouldn’t have been my first choice, but come one, it has been 2 ½ months people!  I did get a side salad instead of fries though (I already took that boat with the Arby’s incident) so I secretly didn’t fee too bad.

The moment finally came.  Our waitress placed my little pan of heaven in front of me, and this rush came over me.  I picked one of the little pan-quarters up, looked oh so lovingly at it, and slowly took my first bite.  Ecstasy, sheer ecstasy!  I let out a sigh of sweet relief and smiled from ear to ear.  Sad, but true.  I could have caressed my Prima Veggie, but I didn’t want to be a total weirdo.  Diedra about lost it.  She had sat there, waiting, knowing full well what my response would be (after all, she is one of my best friends—she knows how I react to good food).  Apparently my reaction was priceless.

So halfway through the meal, Dee asks if they have a nutritional menu.   Reluctantly, I looked at it, but was totally surprised.  I really didn’t too bad!  Hey, hey, hey, I got my pizza and would live to talk about it!  I was on cloud 9, which happened to be made of rising pizza dough at that time.  I don’t know if it was the fact I haven’t had it in a long time, or I was just able to really appreciate the blend of Buddy’s ingredients, but that was the best serving of pizza I have ever had in my entire life.

However, with every up, there comes a down.  It wasn’t like the Arby’s wrap ordeal, but I messed up just a wee little bit.  Unfortunately there was a tad too much sodium in my pizza rendezvous, and I paid the price the next day.  I had a maintenance class, which apparently 12 hours isn’t long enough for your body to flush out the water that is retained when eating pizza.  Hello, it’s not like I lapped up a salt lick all night!  Nevertheless, my 2 weeks of workouts and wheat went right out the window.  Holly told me it was that pizza, and to give it a couple of days for the water retention to ease up.  The scale still went down, but it’s the principle of it all.  That kind of water weight isn’t something a Midol and heating pad can clear up.   GRRR!!!

So here’s to you, Veggie Primavera.  Prima, I love you, and I’ll see you again soon, but it’s not going to be the night before my class.  And Dee, you let me know when you want a tuna hoagie again.

Last update: 24-04-2007 22:35

Published in : Chic Blog, General

OK, OK, I’ll admit from the start that I slacked last week on getting a blog out.    I think that last week I slacked in general with everything.  The weather has made it extremely hard to go running in, and I’m getting way to used to the open path and fresh air to resort to buying a month pass to the local gym.  I was tired and hit a few walls to boot.  It’s just all been blah.

I suppose you can say I had my “bad” week.  I had a few curve balls thrown at me, and I tried to get through them the best I could, but I ultimately screwed up.  I guess it all started early last week when I went to dinner with one of my best friends.  We haven’t seen each other in a few weeks, and I’m really trying to see her as much as I can since she is pregnant and I don’t want to miss a thing!  She knows I’m watching what I eat, so she was pretty flexible on where we went (thank you Dee for not agreeing on Skyline).

That’s something I wanted to talk about real fast.  Not to get off topic, but I just gotta say it.  I don’t like to refer to where I am at as dieting anymore.  Yeah, I’ve lost a great deal of weight, but in reality, I’m just doing what we are all supposed to be doing.  Do I ponder over the scale still?  Yes, every morning before jumping in the shower.  Do I still fight the urge to pick up LaRosa’s on a Friday night?  Yes, especially when I don’t feel like cooking.  But the difference is I don’t feel as much that it’s a duty as it is what I’m naturally supposed to do.  So from here on out, it’s weight loss and eating right—I’m not on a “diet”.

Anways, so we agree on Arby’s, home of the Beef ‘N Cheddar.  At this point I was wanting some REAL fast food.  Before that night, I had Cracker Barrel once and another nice sit down place, but no fast food.  Oh my goodness, the thought of a curly fry spiraling out of the box was sheer pleasure.  Yep, that’s right, I got curly fries.  I knew I was being bad on those, so I went with a more sensible wrap.  Not so sensible apparently—read on to see why.

So after the Arby’s dinner, we hit up our second home—The Lil’ Goodie Shoppe.  I think last summer we went there about 2 times a week, sometimes more.  Nothing says summer and friendship like sitting on a bench gossiping over a quickly melting dipped twisty cone.  I was prepared for this leg of the night.  I knew I should avoid the cone, and stick with the small size.  Check, and check.  Double check on getting the sugar-free soft serve, which I am thrilled to say my taste-buds were happy about because it actually tasted freakin’ fantastic!

Now for the screw up part.  I went online to find the nutritional facts for my wrap.  To what my eyes dismayed when I seen that the Arby’s Melt has half the fat as my supposive “healthy choice” wrap.  DOH!!!!    I could have had the REAL DEAL, the tasty bun, the smooth cheddar cheese, and the thinly sliced pile of roasted beef instead of the wrap??!!  Oh, the pain!  Oh, the agony!  Oh, the disappointment!

Don’t get me wrong, the curly fries were the bomb, and wrap was tasty too, but this goes to show how some things just aren’t what they seem.  So what did I do about it?  Nothing.  I FORGAVE myself.  I didn’t kick myself for the curly fries, and I let the wrap mistake go.  I have done so good, and it’s not like I have made the fast food trips routine.  Did I feel a little guilty, yes, a smidge, but I’m over it.  And as the wonderful ladies at our photo shoot pointed out, I was going to eat fast food at some point, and I got the guilty pleasure out of the way.  Girls, I salute you for saying, “forget about it!”  Too often do we beat ourselves up for slipping and jumping off the bandwagon altogether.

So this week is fresh.  Hopefully I’ll some good sleep, the weather is supposed to pick up a bit, and I think I’m going to kick my running mileage up a notch.  But there is still a small, sugar-free, cup of soft-serve with my name on it though, and of course some gossip on the bench with a good friend.

Last update: 16-04-2007 20:46

Published in : Chic Blog, General

So this week has just been kind of ho-hum.  I did, however, buy a new pair of running shoes.  The time finally came because this week when I was running at the park.  I about bit it on some wood planks from the wet surface/no traction combo, and after doing to quick look around to see if anyone saw me, I swore that I was going to get a new pair.   If it says how long it's been since I bought new running shoes (and no, according the shoe guy, my Sketchers don't count), I was wearing my pair from 11th grade track.  Folks, that was about 9 years ago.  Browsing through the wall of shoes, I discovered a new found appreciation for my parents.  I about crapped when I seen how much running shoes were.  Lord have mercy on me for begging the 'rents for those $100 Nikes back in the day.  Well, I found a pair on sale for $80, which the shoe guy also told me is people's biggest mistake--letting the price come before what's best for you, but you know--I just don't frickin care.  When Nike starts making a good quality running shoe so I don't screw my feet up or do a full leg-in-the-air slip at the park for a cheaper price, I'll care.   Until then I'll save $50 and go for the stlye that is about a year old instead of the new, up to the minute look.  Oh, and answer me this, why could I not get Forrest Gump out my head the entire hour I was out doing my routine?

So I've been running a few days in them and they feel pretty good.  Of course I have 2 huge blisters on the bottoms of feet--not from the running shoes, but from my black pointy toed- skinny heeled-knee high boots, which I'm sorry to say, hurt like hell.  But, being the champ I like to think I am, I stuck some padded bandaids on them, gave 'em a good wrap in gauze, and laced up to go run.  Of course I am highly regreting that decision right now.  Between my feet looking like I just came from the burn unit, and the heeled limping I've been doing, I think I'm going to have to take a break from the trail for a couple of days.

I ate dinner tonight at a nice restaurant, and I think I did OK, until dessert came.  Oh, the kryptonite was unvieled as the waiter brought out the dessert tray.  Of course he stood right nex to me, like I had a big target on my shirt with the heading, "I'm on a diet, please try to screw me!"  Well, I caved.  I'm forgiving myself and moving on.  I didn't get a full slice of whatever, but rather took a spoonful of the 3 the table ordered, so I got just a taste.  I've done so well, I deserved that sliver of dark chocolate WHATEVER that was made with no flour and tasted like a bite of pure heaven.  Besides, I paid for it dearly tonight with my blisters--karma much?  I think it just might have been.  But my oh my, was it worth it?  Yes my friends, it was worth every little dark chocolate calorie.  

Last update: 01-04-2007 21:19

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Well folks, I have officially graduated from my “6 Weeks To A New You” program, and I have to say that I am completely stoked about my results!  As a matter of fact, I’m so stoked I have decided to continue with the maintenance program.  I have had such a good time, and I loved the classes, but I really liked keeping my food journals and having the help of professionals.  So alright already, I’ll give you my results!  I lost 14 pounds and 4 inches off of my waist!  WOOHOO!!!    *Picture me doing a little dance—I do it every time I say it*  It’s crazy I tell ya, CRAZY!

My goal now is to fit back into the jeans I wore right before I turned 21.  Between the bars and starting an office job, the weight piled on like a gigantic scoop of mashed potatoes, and those jeans are still in my wardrobe (well, in under bed storage).    I have come to terms with the fact I will not look like I did in high school, but man, I want to get back into those jeans!  I think I can do it too—actually, I know I can do it.  I’ve worked my butt off with this nice weather, and when I am running up the hill at the park, I literally say (yes, say, not think, the words come out of my mouth), “old jeans, old jeans, old jeans…!”  I’m sure if anyone heard me they would think I’m a nut—a red, hot, sweaty one at that, but that’s what pushes me.    When Holly was like, “that’s incredible, you lost 4 inches—how’s your pants fit?” I came clean with my dirty little denim secret.  She said, “Well when you fit into them, you better wear them in here and show us!”  I replied, “If I fit into those jeans again, I will do cartwheels through the door when I come show you!”

Ahhh!!!  I feel so good!  I’m proud of myself, and I can say that I have every right to be.  I’m still going strong on not smoking, I have so much energy, and my body feels fantastic!  Of course losing the weight is great too, but to be honest, I feel more proud about turning to a more health lifestyle.  I rewarded myself on Friday and bought a big ticket item.  I purchased my very first I-Pod.  It’s nice too.    I’m infatuated with it right now, just like when a guy gets a new video game (ladies, I know you can all attest to that).  I deserved it.  With all the money I have saved from quitting smoking and cutting the fast food, it didn’t hit the bank too hard.  Oh, and being the female I am, I justified my splurge by saying I needed it for my daily trips to the park to workout.

I find myself thinking how easy this has all been.  Of course it was hard at first, giving up my fast food Fridays, oversized bowls of cereal, and that extra scoop of butter in my veggies, but it is all second nature now.  I even know what to order when I get enough gumption to go to McDonalds (surprisingly enough, it will be the 99 cent hamburger-not the chicken).  You always hear how proper eating and exercise is the most basic way to lose weight, and it really is!  The equation is simple, and it’s not a fad.  It’s the way nature intended it—before the words, “Super Size, Hungry Man-Sized, or Hearty Portions.”

Last update: 25-03-2007 19:29

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Well, I turned another year older this past weekend—yippee.   I had to get a new driver license, and of course the checklist was asked, “hair color, eye color, height, weight…”  Ahhh!!!  Weight??!!  NOOOO!!!  Anything but that!  Let me pose this question:  does ANYONE tell their real weight on their license?  Who wants to tell some random BMV worker what they weigh, much less let some hottie cop see it when they get pulled over?  “Oh, sorry officer, I didn’t realize I was going that fast.  What?  Do I lie all the time?  My weight?  Ohhh.  See, I just lie about that, I really didn’t know I was speeding.”  I chuckled, and stammered out, “umm, well, it’s a little bit higher than what you said.”  I could have melted into the old checkerboard floor when I said the magic number and some guy in there looked at me like, “you have got to be kidding me!”

The scale.  My nemesis.  There is this odd suspense I have when I stand there waiting for the scale to beep back at me with the black digital number reading.  It’s like the feeling of waiting for your prom date, or going up “Drop Zone” at Kings Island—terrified, but excited.  That butterfly feeling in my stomach hits with the anticipation of losing another pound, then is quickly overcome by a tightening with thinking I’m going to be let down.  I like to weigh myself in the morning before I get in the shower.  In my creative mind, the less clothing I have on, the more “real” my weight is.  Ahh, who am I kidding—I like just seeing a smaller number.

Our class on Saturday couldn’t have come at a better time.  We talked about just that.  Why do we let a number rule our lives?  Why do we tell ourselves that just because we aren’t in a certain weight range, that we aren’t worthy of anything?  The speaker said after she lost X amount, she got rid of her scale.  WHAT?!  Yes, she got rid of the scale.  So often we base weight loss on just how many digits are dropped, we lose sight of the real factors.  I couldn’t tell you how often I am asked how much I have lost, but rarely do I get asked how I feel.  Of course I love saying I’ve lost 10 pounds, but I love saying how great I feel even more.  I have more energy than I’ve had in a long time.  I’m sleeping better.  My skin feels better.  My attitude is better.  Flat out, I’m healthier, and I know I’m doing it the right way.

Anyways, I did manage to survive the birthday dinner.  My grandma makes this authentic German dinner—and it is to die for.  Sauerbraten and spaetzels…mmm, mmm, mmm.  I managed to stay within my calorie intake, and for the first time in my German eating life, I didn’t gorge myself to point of no return.   She made the meat with deer (sorry, but Bambie is very lean), and instead of cake, we had the guilt-free Cool whip dessert.  It bit the big one though that I couldn’t pour sauerbraten gravy all over a plate of spaetzels, but such is life.

Till’ next time…

Last update: 15-03-2007 18:48

Published in : Chic Blog, General

My, my, my...where to begin?!

So A LOT has happened since the last blog.  We had the launch party this last weekend which was awesome--thanks to everyone who made it!  It was a great time, but I also faced some not-so-great challenges.  Our party spot was in Newport--a smoke em' if you got em' city.  This was my first time going out to a bar since I quit smoking, and boy did I want one.  I was just watching people smoke and blow the smoke up into the air, thinking, "That is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen."  Ohhh, it would have been so easy to just smoke one--GOD, it would have been easy!  There I was, drink in one hand, and nothing in other.  It felt so weird I could have put a sock puppet on my empty hand and talked to people with it just to do something!  Thank goodness I had a straw in my glass 'cause that kept the right side of my body occupied, although the puppet would have been rather interesting.

Well I made it through the night without a smoke, and actually tomorrow will be my 1 month mark.  WOOHOO!!!  Hooray for me!    Now, my second challenge...drinking.  Somehow I managed to survive the drinking/cigarette combo.  I also had to watch what I was drinking with my calorie consumption.  Obviously beer would not have been the proper choice--it's a pork chop in a can!  I tried for a Stoli and Diet Coke, but no Stoli, so I went for my next favorite, a 7 & 7 (Seagrams 7 and 7-Up).  Diet and straight liquor, that is about the best choice you can get for a bar drink--I just can't do wine while breaking a move on the dance floor.

Next challenge--the food.  Ahhh!!!!    Of course there was a HUGE pot of the best appetizers ever--Swedish Meatballs.  Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm.  God, it all looked so freakin' good.  I could have just grabbed the whole pot of meatballs and a toothpick, then go in a corner somewhere and just chow down.  I made a plate up for my mom and my aunt (they are the 2 hot ladies that look like me in the party pics) but made nothing for myself.  I frantically grabbed Chrisy to check out the spread with me.  Thank goodness she was there or I would have really gone over my limit!  After breaking it all down, I opted to skip the apps and saved my night snack for a little something when I got home.

So I survived the party with no smokes and no munchies.  Can we say miracle?  LOL--I like to call it a "Miracle on York Street"!  *insert drum and cymbal roll, and a groan for the cheesy line*

Saturday came the weigh in and our class about exercise.  I lost another 2 pounds!  I'm not going to lie, I was a little disappointed it was only 2, but Holly told me that is normal, and is actually the proper amount to lose.  So I'm up to 8--almost to the pre-quitting weight.  Our exercise class was pretty fun too.  Shocker here, but I used to run varsity sprints in high school (couldn't tell by looking at me now though!) so I am already familiar with the fundamentals of a good workout.  However, we talked about easy things to do at home and how long to do certain parts of a workout.  Jeannine busted out the good old resistance band and showed us all these cool ways to use it.  Of course I went out this week and bought one.

Finally, I faced going out to eat on Sunday.  Dunn dunn dunn....at the Cracker Barrel.  Oh how I love some country cookin', especially the chicken and dumplins (yes, dumplins with no "g").  I usually get the dumplin dinner with my sides as fried apples and even more dumplins, plus biscuits (my arteries are clogging just typing this).  I went with a more sensible chicken tenderloin dinner with green beans, mashed taters, and fat-free Italian on my side salad.  Of course, me being the excellent student that I am , I ate the proper portions and boxed up the rest.  I survived the CB, but I'm still not ready for Skyline.

I want to say something important here.  I have had many people ask how I am doing with this program, and when I describe what I got going, the most common thing I hear is, "oh, so it is like Weight Watchers."  NO, NO, and NO!  It is nothing like Weight Watchers.  I'm not saying they are bad or ripping on them, but Personal NewTrition and Weight Watchers are 2 totally different things.  I'm learning how to eat and with proper portions.  I'm learning how my metabolism affects my calories.  I'm learning why I eat the things I do.  It is a complete change in my eating habits and lifestyle.  I repeat, they are 2 totally different programs.

Whew, ok, got that out...

Alright, well I'm off to work out.  Look forward to a special birthday edition next week!  Oh, and I want to leave everyone with a quote from my daily calendar.  I find it very fitting for everything I've shared so far and everything my future holds...just something to think about: 

                            "Nothing will work unless you do."  -Maya Angelou

Last update: 08-03-2007 18:32

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Well, for some reason this blog was posted under the admin, so I'm reposting again so all of my entries stay together.  This was posted last week by the way...hope I didn't go and confuse anyone!  Here ya' go:

OK, so I've had a bit of a rollercoaster with the diet thing.  I went to my very first Personal Newtrition class on Monday night--woohoo!  I was totally pumped to meet Chrisy (who by the way, is soooo absolutely GREAT) and get this whole ball rolling.  After checking in, Holly weighed me in and took my blood pressure.  I think I about passed out--since last Friday I gained 5 pounds!   What in the H-E-double hockey sticks did I do to gain 5 freakin' pounds?!  Granted I had Skyline on Friday night so I could get one good fast food in before I had to really watch everything, but geesh, 5 pounds?  I figured I'd probably gain a couple more, but not this much!  Certainly a few cheese coneys could not be the cause of this horid thing!

Ahh, once again, the culprit--my quitting smoking (which by the way, I'm still going strong--thank you, thank you).  Well, quitting and my lack of exercise.  Oh yeah, I want to add that it IS best that I am dieting along with my quitting.  Chrisy said that my body is recognizing nutients again, plus the metabolism thing, so doing them hand-in-hand will be better for me.

Alright, back to the class...

So sweet, nice, Holly keeps me from not breaking down and crying right there by reminding me how our weight can fluctuate during the day, and not to worry because as of that moment I'm doing something about it.  After the huge let down in the weigh in, I sat down in the conference room, tucking at my hoodie as if I was poking out of my clothes.  Nice me, reeaaalllyyy nice.  I think I have gained about 12 pounds since I quit smoking, not exactly a comforting thought, but Holly is right, I'm doing something about it.

We learned a lot on Monday.  I received my meal plan and calorie intake--1,400 calories a day--yikes!    Of course everyone had a different plan, so don't take my plan for your own!  OK?  Remember, I'm just the patient, not the dietian here folks.  At any rate, we went through the dietary exchange book, which is really awesome.  This thing shows all the exchanges and helpful hints--it has become my new guide.  It is so amazing to see how much we eat that is not in correct portions.  I was reading the nutrional facts on a bag of frozen chicken breasts today...did you know the serving size is 1/2 of one of those breasts, not the whole thing?  I have never ate 1/2 a piece of chicken--unless it's after I ate full piece and was still hungry!    Now think of what you eat when you go out--crazy, isn't it?

Well I felt good leaving the class.  I am on the way to a healthier (and thinner) me.  I would have done a cartwheel in the parking lot if I knew I could make it!  That lasted through the next day until I got home work.  I was trying to figure out what I could eat, and then I started freaking out.  I was hungry and for some reason every bit of common sense went out the door.  I was reading my exchange book like a monkey doing a math problem.  ARRGGHH!!!!  I was making the exchanges way harder then they are, but hunger must have turned me into a blubbering idiot.  In frustration I ate leftovers from the night before and went to bed pissed off at myself at 5:00.

I called Chrisy today to ask about the exchanges and some other things (like what to do with the Girl Scout cookies that came in yesterday).  I feel so relieved that I talked to her.  She helped me with my exchange questions, and took the time to go over some nutrtion labels of stuff I was thinking about eating.  She also helped me with my Girl Scout cookie dilema.  Looks like I won't be eating a sleeve of thin mints in one sitting this year! 

So now I'm off to the grocery store.  I've made out a couple of meal plans on my own and I'm pretty impressed with myself.  I'm putting up my before picture today for all of my faithful readers to see.  It was taken a few weeks ago, so add a little more than the 10 the camera already puts on.

Last update: 28-02-2007 18:34

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Alright everyone, I'm beginning to go into euphoria!    Seriously!!!  Things have been going really good since the last blog.  For starters, at my weigh in on Saturday I found out I lost 6 pounds!  WOOHOO!  That takes care of the 5 I gained that one week, plus an extra one to help even the score with my post-smoking weight.  To that I say it's about dang time!  I was starting to think I was going to have to get my old pants out from after I turned 21 (that's another story--lets just say I miss drinking Budweiser, but the scale doesn't). 

Second, I have more energy--I don't feel so sluggish.  Remember a few weeks ago when I said I felt like so "blah"?  Ta-dah--it's gone!  Thank God, I was getting worried there for minute that I was morphing into Jabba or something.  Lastly, I have noticed an improvement in my complexion.  There have been no new breakouts and it feels more smooth and supple.  Hmm, I wonder how much I'll save on foundation....

At any rate, I have about another 5 pounds to lose to be where I was before I quit smoking (which by the way, I'm almost at 20 days smoke-free).  I still don't have the physical urges to smoke, but I do occasionally get a craving for one, just like one drag or something.  Don't worry--I'm not going to do it.  I've worked to hard this last month to get where I'm at to let it all go down the pooper!

My trip to the grocery store was fun (and thanks to the power of typed word, you can't sense the sarcasm in my tone).  It took twice as long to make it through, but in the end it was worth it.  Reading labels takes some time, but you would be surprised what a difference it can make in something as simple as oatmeal.

I have found my savor to chocolate cravings--Jell-O sugar free, fat free pudding.  Surprisingly people, it's actually good!  I've become an expert at opening a can of tuna and draining it in less than 30 seconds, so much so I'm considering buying stock in Starkist.  I'm mastering the size of a tbsp and tsp, and flaxseed has become my yogurt's new friend.  The dust has been cleared off of my Gazelle, and I'm getting ancy to go bike riding.

All in all, I'm liking this new, correct, way of eating.  However, when I lay tucked in my bed, visions of cheese conies still dance in my head.

Last update: 28-02-2007 17:55

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Well, unfortunately the weather caused my class to get cancelled on Saturday, but it has been rescheduled for Monday night.  So I'm sorry to say, there is no news yet on what new task lies before me.  I can't wait to get a start on this!  I stepped on the scale today and about cried.  Since I started everything back at the beginning of the month, I have gained around, ehh, 7 or 8 pounds.  I expected it--I think its a given when someone quits an addiction.  Trust me, its not that I'm comfortable with it by any means (come on, is anyone comfortable with it when their belt has to be let loose a notch?).  I guess it's that I knew it would happen, but at the same time, I know I'm in the works for doing something about it.  I am happy to say though that I am on day #10 with no cigarettes--yeah for me!

Tonight it dawned on me exactly what I'm doing.  I mean, I know somewhat of the game plan, bit I just finished watching a show on TLC and it really hit me....

The show was about compulsive eaters, how it is an addiction and eating disorder.  They had four people featured and doctors and experts discussed their individual calorie intake and what their bodies were doing.  They did something very interesting, which made me start to wonder about myself.  They took everything they eat on a daily basis and put it out on a table for them to see.  It was crazy!  There was one man who consumes over 36,000 calories in A DAY!  Yes, 36,000--what an average man consumes in two weeks!

The odd thing is each person didn't realize what they were doing to themselves until they seen the table spread of what they were eating.  One woman said that it made her salivate and feel sick at the same time.  How can we as humans get to this point?  Yes, a bowl of creamy chicken alfredo with a slice of rich, smooth cheesecake for dessert can make one feel that exact way, but how do we get to the point of disaster?

Each person who is overweight has their own turn-ons and weak points.  For me, it's my cravings for Friday night fast food and chocolate.  I love my steak and pasta.  I have to have my half a pot of coffee and vanilla creamer--the real creamer.

I have a feeling I don't have to completely say goodbye to my loves, but there is going to be some serious calorie counting from here on out.

Last update: 18-02-2007 21:13

Published in : Chic Blog, General

This weather has kept me from posting up to date entries, so hopefully after this I should be up to date.  Look for a new entry this weekend and a "before" picture, as I start my 6 week program on Saturday!

Saturday, February 10^th

Alright, day #2 of no smoking.  This morning has been quite the test for me.  I made my coffee and just sat here thinking about what was missing.  I want one so bad, it’s just unbelievable.  I’m sort of disoriented too.  I feel kind of fuzzy, like that feeling you get when you have to wake up hours before you are used to.  It’s like I’m doped up on some cold medicine.  All I know is this sucks.

I had some time to think last night.  I thought about where I was from a health stance.  My meeting with Holly was a serious wake up call.  As I filled out my paperwork, I told her about my dad’s heart attack and how it was so surprising when it all happened.  We talked about some other health stuff, and as we went through the process, I started putting pieces of the puzzle together.

As we started things out, she took my height and weight.  Good news is I am a quarter inch taller than what I thought I was, bad news is I’m about five pounds heavier than I was that morning.  Holly explained that’s normal, we can vary in weight throughout the day.  Still, when I seen her tap that marker higher and higher on the scale, I felt my heart just sink.  “What am I doing to myself?” I thought.  I have to keep telling myself my metabolism has slowed, that I knew this was going to happen with my quitting smoking, but it was just hard to swallow—no pun intended.

Next came the measurements, the dreaded time when I find out just how big my waistline is.  First she measured my arms and my legs, which I started to get a little too cocky about.  HA!  My arms and legs are the best part of my body!  At least one thing was going to look good on that paper!  Then came the waist…ohhh, the dreaded waist.  Holly put the measuring tape just under my bra,  and I was like, “Heck yeah, that’s the thinnest part!  My measurements are going to look good!”  My parade was very quickly rained on.  “Umm, no, I just hook the tape together there.  I need you to pull it down so it is even with your belly button.”  I felt like a deflating balloon, shriveling up to a wrinkled piece of latex.  Reluctantly I put it in the proper place, and squinted as I braced myself for the results.

Turns out my thin legs and arms aren’t so good.  Apparently my waistline is not in proportion with the other measurements, which means that my small extremities and big waist puts me at higher risk for heart disease.  That’s freakin’ spectacular.  Talk about hitting a brick wall—that wasn’t what I thought I was going to hear.  As if that wasn’t enough, the old body mass index chart got pulled out.  It looks like a chart on the back of a pantyhose box, and it’s divided into 3 colors from left to right:  white, yellow, and red.  Anyone want to take a wild guess as to which color I was in?  Ding, ding, ding!!!  If you guessed red, you are correct!  As she lined me up, I stammered out, “Ughhh, I’m in the red, aren’t I?”  God bless Holly.  She smiled reassuringly, and said, “Yes, but we are going to get you into the yellow.”

So here I sit, thinking about yesterday and what I’ve got to do now.  I’m in that grey area, where I’m not by medical terms morbidly obese, but I’m also not healthy.  Having my flaws wrote on paper stung, but not as bad as hearing my future health risks.  I don’t want to have what happened to my dad happen to me.  With him, it came out of nowhere—we were all blind sided by it, and heaven forbid the same thing happen to me down the road.  To be honest, it scared me to hear what I was being told, but I guess I need that swift kick to my butt.

Sunday, February 11^th

Day #3 smoke free!  I can’t believe I’m doing it, or should I say making it!  I’m not going to lie, I have had quite a few moments where I thought about getting some cigarettes today.  I miss it, but I keep telling myself I’m doing the right thing.  It’s like a break-up.  It’s that urge to just call the guy one last time, but you know you are going to be the fool if you do.  The only thing is I don’t a friend here to slap the phone out of my hand when break down.  I just keep telling myself I’m almost there—and now for some odd reason I’m playing The Little Engine That Could in my head.  That’s another thing—at times I totally lose focus.  I’m still a little disoriented with that foggy feeling, and the headache is minimal.  I hope this goes away soon!

I have found some organizing projects to do since I seem to be wired and slightly edgy.  I went through EVERYTHING in the bathroom, from tossing old products to taking Q-tips to the rails on the sliding drawers.  Next came the hall closet where I cut up (and evenly folded) pieces of old t-shirts for Pledge rags.  Ahh, sometimes being obsessive can be such a relief!

Wish me luck as I face the first official work week with no smoke breaks!  I know I won’t miss standing out in the cold!

Wednesday, February 14^th

Blah, all I can say is blah.  The weather is blah and I feel blah.  I feel so incredible sluggish, not to mention sick.  Our power was out all through the night, and I guess sleeping with a hat and gloves under 3 blankets just wasn’t enough.  I can’t quite tell what my body is doing.  I’m tired, drained, and my body feels like it is recuperating from a bad bug.  I don’t know if it is a result of being so cold, or if I’m slowing down as the nicotine gets out of my system.  Who knows, maybe it’s a combo of both.  If anyone else has experienced this while quitting, please, let me know.

Good news is I’m still going strong.  I don’t have the physical urge to smoke, but I often I find myself longing to sit back and take another drag off one.  Driving isn’t too bad, but of course the road conditions have helped me with the need to keep both hands on the steering wheel at all times.  I did think about getting a pack the other day though.  I kept thinking how easy it would be to just swing by a drive-thru for one last pack, just to get that feeling of another drag.

It was hard yesterday to fight that feeling.  When the power went out in the middle of the afternoon, I got bored fast.  I paced and paced and paced, then paced some more.  I think I wore a path on the carpet I paced so much.  Ohh, all I wanted was a cigarette to occupy myself.  I could have even hovered over it to keep warm!  In the silence of the house, I could hear the sound of cigarette paper crackling as it burns with each drag.

It could have also been the sound of trees snapping under the pressure of the ice, but it sure didn’t help my imagination.

Last update: 15-02-2007 20:04

Published in : Chic Blog, General

I'm almost there!

Monday, February 5^th

I just got back from the store, and I have some mixed feelings with myself right now.  I bought another pack.  I’m telling myself this will be my last one, and hopefully it is.  Yes, I caved, I’m beating myself up for it, but hear me out.  I finished the last cigarette from the pack I bought Thursday on a break at work today and it just didn’t feel right.  I don’t know how to exactly describe it, but it just wasn’t right.  I guess this is where the “it’s a mental thing” kicks in—it wasn’t how I planned it.  For starters I certainly didn’t want to have the last one at work.   I want it to be at home, my comfort zone.  It’s like I’m attending a funeral or something, like I have to prep myself and have one last special moment with a loved one before they are buried.  I have to say my farewells respectfully, make my peace with it.  LOL—I’m hoping that some of you reading this know what I’m feeling so I don’t sound like such a loon to others.

At any rate, I bought a different brand, plus they are ultra lights, so I’m hoping that helps.  I also bought two bags of Charms Blowpops (thank God for Valentines candy—I scored all cherry flavored bags).  See, I tried quitting another time and I found the Charms to work better for two reasons: 1) they last longer, and 2) I can gnaw at the sucker covered gum in frustration when I’m done. 

So here I am, with my last pack.  I’m going to cherish these next few days, spend some quality time with my nicotine friends.  I want to say good-bye the right way, and trust me, a time limit in a musty smoke hut just isn’t the way to go.

Wednesday, February 7^th

Well, I survived the horrible traffic conditions and cabin fever the last two days.  Yesterday was atrocious, as you all know.  Fortunately, my shift ended early in the afternoon yesterday, and by the grace of God, I beat the horrible traffic backups.  Still, the drive home took almost an hour, and I only smoked one cigarette.  The drive to work today was just shy of my trip home, and I got two in.  My shift today is incredibly short, so I had most the day to stay in the house.  I smoked a little more than I wanted to, but I’ve got my timeline prepared, so I had to ration them out correctly.

I’ve figured it out to where I can smoke my last one at home tomorrow night.  I’m wondering how I’m going to do it, much less how I’m going to make it.  All I know is I can’t buy another pack once as I finish this one off.  I’ve had almost 3 weeks to prep myself for this, there is no excuse from here on out.  For some reason I keep getting this mental image of some hard-core personal trainer screaming in my face, “THERE ARE NO EXCUSES!  NO PAIN, NO GAIN!”  I literally shake my head to snap out of it.  Funny, I don’t remember hallucinations the last time I tried to quit.  I’m kind of nervous about tomorrow, but I’m even more nervous about the days after that.  I’ve had some headaches, some mood swings, but in the past I’ve gone right back to smoking.

Tomorrow is another day, but also the last day.  This really ought to be interesting.

Thursday, February 8^th

Well, this is it.  Today is the day.  I’m actually sad!  I don’t know what the deal is, I just feel like I’m losing a friend.  I have spent over 8 years smoking.  Cigarettes have been my companion through broken hearts, arguments, and some very hard times.  I always found comfort in a cup of coffee, a smoke, and some alone time.  It’s hard to believe how a small object can have such an impact on my life.  I am literally emotional over never having another Camel again.

Of course the first couple years of my smoking weren’t bad.  I was still in high school and only smoked at work and on the weekends.  I think I hid it from parents until a few months after actually turning 18.  I think the world stopped turning for just a second when my family found out that I smoked.  How did this honor society, athletic, and well-mannered girl start smoking?  *GASP* absolutely appalling!

Maybe all of these emotions are just a part of the nicotine withdrawal—at least I’m hoping so.  I have one cigarette left.  It’s “THE” cigarette.  This is the moment I have built everything up to so far.  I don’t know at what point in the evening I will smoke it, but I’m going to have to do it sometime.

Friday, February 9^th

Today has been a bit of a rollercoaster.  I ended up smoking that last cigarette this morning on my way to work.  I fell asleep on the couch shortly after writing my piece from yesterday, and by the time I woke up at midnight, I just didn’t have it in me to say goodbye while half asleep.  I think it was better this way.  After all, driving is my biggest trigger point, plus I had my coffee.  I had a sign as well.  Yes, as weird as it sounds, I totally believe in them, and man did I have one.  I decided it was time, and as I lit my last cigarette and breathed it in, I changed the radio to WEBN.  No sooner had I slowly blew out the smoke, the chorus of Linkin Park’s song sang to me loud and clear.  “I’m breaking the habit, I’m breaking the habit…”

That sealed the deal.  If that wasn’t a clear cut sign, I don’t know what is.  The funny thing is that it was settling.  It was as if that’s how that chapter of my life was supposed to end.  I just leaned back into my seat and savored every last bit of the cigarette with this, “Here’s to you kid,” smirk on my face.  As the moment came to give it once last flick, everything slowed down.  I let the window down a little, and then I let it go, watching the amber glow scatter onto the highway from my side mirror.  It was like that scene from “Titanic” where Rose has to let go of Jack and he falls slowly into the darkness of the ocean.  *sniff  sniff*

The work day was long and nauseating.  I thought about asking for one when break time came, but I didn’t.  I certainly did not want to give in that easily.  Thank God I’m so dang stubborn.  I gnawed through my fair share of Blow Pops until 12:30.  Here is where the torture started.

At 4:30 I had my appointment with Holly from Personal Newtrition to get my “stats” for my classes next week.  The rule is no calorie or caffeine consumption 4 hours before the test.  All I could have was water for 4 hours.  No suckers, no gum, no Crystal Light—just pure agony.  Of course it probably wouldn’t have been sheer torture if I hadn’t smoked my last cigarette in the morning, but noooooooo, I had to give it all up today.  All I can say is I’m glad nobody ticked me off that afternoon, or else I might have been escorted out of the building.

Last update: 12-02-2007 16:18

Published in : Chic Blog, General

The saga continues...

Monday, January 29^th

Well, I survived today in pretty good shape.  I finished the pack I got on Friday by the end of the work day today, which is actually pretty good.  To last three days, much less it being the weekend, with one pack is amazing.  My normal work day cigarette count is 3 on the way in, 2 on both breaks, 3 on lunch, and 3 again on the way home.  So counting the few I might have throughout the night, I can go through a pack a day.

I made it to work today only smoking two.  Becky (the gal who is quitting with me) and I decided that we will cut back to 1 on breaks and 2 on lunch, then decrease again next week.  The trip home I also had two.  I picked up a pack when I left, so here’s to starting another pack countdown.

Tuesday, January 30^th

ARRGGHHH!!!  Today was a bad day for my smoking.  I did so-so on the count, but boy was I hacked off at something with my Jeep.  Technically I should say I’m still hacked off, and really it’s with the guys at the shop.  Why is it that just because I am a female, car mechanics want to treat me like an incompetent, helpless, woman?  HELLO!  Just because I have breasts doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around a vehicle.  So I’m pissed to the 100^th degree.  Having a flashback, I should have thrown their stupid tools out the shop doors!  I wanted to grab them by their shirt collars and scream, “I’m trying to quit smoking and you’re not helping me AT ALL, you, you judgmental *bleep*!!!!”   I’m not going back there again, and I’m sure they don’t care—I had “attitude” and another choice word wrote all over me on my way out the doors.

Whew, alright, now that’s off my chest…

So I smoked a couple more than I wanted to today.  I’m kind of upset, but I’m OK with it.  I know had it been a month before this, I would have gone through half a pack just stewing about my ordeal at the shop.  I guess I can look at the bright side of this—I got my first situation to get pissed about out of the way.  Wow, I forgot how bad the moodiness can get with quitting!

Thursday, February 1^st

Well I purchased my third, and hopefully my last, pack of cigarettes tonight.  I kind of went through my other pack fast, but I shared some on Wednesday with Becky.  Good news, I didn’t smoke at all on my way to work this morning.  Of course I had none, but I suppose I needed that.  I bummed some from Becky during the day for breaks, and she gave me one for my ride home.  I ate dinner with some friends and didn’t have to step outside, of course because I still had none.  They were happy to hear about my quitting and all my life-altering changes I have planned, so it feels good to have that support.  After my trip to the grocery store, I smoked one, the last one for the day.

I’m starting to get a little nervous.  My last pack.  This is it.  I’ve already planned out how I’m going to ration them.  I feel like I’m stuck on a deserted island and I have no way to get more cigarettes.  Can I do it?  I’m beginning to question my decision not to use the patch or other quitting aides.  I bought the 100’s, thinking that will help me stretch it out long enough to get the nicotine out of my system.  Will it work?  I guess we’ll find out.

Friday, February 2^nd

So I did alright on my count today.  I had one on my way to work, and two on my way home, which included some errands I had to run.  I started getting a headache at work today.  My first sign of nicotine withdrawal—goodie.  I’m guessing it was from yesterday and my severe cut back.  All I can think is, “grrreeeaat.”  I noticed another thing today that is apparently from my cut back.  I stepped on the scale this morning and wasn’t too happy.  I’ve already picked up a couple of pounds.  I was wondering when that was going to happen, now I know.  Not a good day folks, not a good day.

I can see now why Chrisy from Personal Newtrition told me to quit before I go on this 6-week program.  Before the program you have a metabolic test done so they can figure out how your diet should go according to your metabolism.  In the case of someone who smokes, and isn’t quitting, they can’t have nicotine 1 hour before the test because smoking speeds up your metabolism.

I want to get on this diet now.  Personal Newtrition’s program is really going to help—I’ll go into detail on that a little later.  I’m thinking about getting a head start and jumping on my Tony Little Gazelle.  I can’t believe I’m already gaining weight!  I haven’t changed my eating habits at all, except for that extra chocolate I had on Wednesday.  Surely THAT couldn’t add a few pounds!  Headaches and now the scale is tipping.  What have I got myself into?  It takes every bit of me to convince myself I’m better off doing it now rather than later down the line.  I wanted to quit before I got my teeth fixed, so I need to just get it done and over with.  “Suck it up chump!” is all I have to tell myself.  If I can’t break this habit, how weak am I?  I honestly don’t want to answer that right now. 

Saturday February 3^rd

Once again, I did alright with my cigarette count today.  In comparison to where I was 2 weeks ago, I’m doing well.  By now I would have easily gone through 8 packs, and I’m still on my 3^rd.  So why am I feeling so down?

To all you people who have quit smoking out there, bless your nicotine-free hearts.  I have heard so many suggestions for ways to quit.  Cold turkey, weaning, take some from each new pack and toss them, the patch, gum, blah blah blah.  I’m getting aggravated and irritated with the thought of not having my filter-tipped companions.  This is hard—harder than I thought it was going to be.

I need to do this.  I want to do this.  I’ve put myself out there for everyone to see, I can’t give up.  I want people to read this and be able to relate to what I’m going through.  I want everyone who is facing weight loss or breaking the smoking habit to see they aren’t alone.  I’m a real person, not just some picture in a magazine with a woman wearing men’s jeans, holding them out like she “really” lost the weight.  I’m a real person, not some picture in an ad for a patch or pill.  This is the real deal.  It’s hard, I’m not going to lie, but it’s going to be soooo worth it in the long run.

I have to laugh sometimes.  I keep having this mental image of what I’m going to look like and feel like 6 months from now.  You know what’s odd when I think about that?  I’m so happy.  I picture myself smiling, just loving where I’m at.  It’s not that I’m not happy now, I love everything about my life.  It’s just that I see a better me, a more healthy me.  I’ve decided that’s my “goal picture”.  I might not have a physical picture to post up by my mirror or at my desk to see every day, but by God, I can still see it.

It’s gonna be a rough road, but I think I’m going to make.  I might stumble along the way, but I’ll get there.

Last update: 11-02-2007 21:59

Published in : Chic Blog, General

Hello Cincy Chic readers! 

This is the first official blog entry, but I should give you a heads up first.  I had to start some journal entries before I could technically blog on the site, so I'm going to post the first week, then in a few days I'll post last week, followed by this week come Monday.  After that I should be in real-time.  Well, here we go!

Thursday, January 25th

Tomorrow starts my great life change.  I want to put this out there for all you women who are possibly attempting the same things I will be doing.  It’s sort of going to be a real life testimony, as well as something everyone can relate to—straight from my world to this blog.  Hopefully many of you can relate to what the future holds for me, and maybe provide you a good laugh along the way. 

I should start by telling everyone what exactly it is I am doing and why.  I suppose it all started about six or seven months ago when I was talking to an orthodontist about getting my teeth fixed.  See, I have had this horrible gap in my teeth from where a permanent tooth never came down, causing my mouth to never “fill” properly.  It’s my self-conscious thing—and of course its gotta be the first thing most people notice (great, isn’t it?). 

So anyways, I’m being told I will need oral surgery and veneers—which is frickin’ fantastic because I can skip the whole braces thing, but not so fantastic because it’s going to cost some serious dough to get my grill in shape.  It’s all good though, because this is something I need to get done, so 2007 will ring in a new smile for me.  Let’s all sing it, you know you want to, “Let me see yo’ grill—yo’ yo’ yo’ grill!”

Alright, so this leads to my first big step of the change, and probably the hardest.  I’m a *gasp*…smoker.  I’ve been told to quit numerous times by my doctor, not just for the typical reasons, but for family medical history.  My mother is a breast cancer survivor, and my father, although a seemingly healthy man, had a heart attack two years ago which resulted in a 5-way bypass.  Oh, and both of my grandfathers died of cancer.  Genetically, the odds are against me.

I’ve known I need to quit for a long time, but never had anything pushing me.  I always said that when the day comes I end up prego that it will seal the deal for quitting.  That is until I found out about my teeth.  I dread the dentist, and the thought of getting dry-socket or some other infection makes my skin crawl.  So my new goal was to quit when I get my teeth fixed.  I would like to add here that the new smoking ban has absolutely NOTHING to do with me quitting.  That’s a whole other beef I have, but I feel it’s important to state that I am quitting for personal reasons, not because of legislation.

Well, I got to thinking.  Why not do a whole health make-over?  There is that dreaded thought smokers have of gaining weight, and that is on half of my mind.  The other half comes down to that fact I need to eat better.  Actually, I should say I need to eat healthier.  So, I’m teaming up with Personal Newtrition to help with my “healthier me” quest.

Tomorrow starts the change…God’s speed me, may the force be with me.

Friday, January 26^th

Ok, so my game plan is this:  weaning myself off of cigarettes.  It’s a modified cold turkey, but one of the nurses from Personal Newtrition suggested it.  I figured I’ll start this weekend so I have better odds of cutting back during those nice, cold breaks at work.  Which leads to another thing—work.  One of my gal pals also smokes and she wants to quit with me.  So this should work out good.  I’ve got the quitting buddy, which is going to help out when the cravings hit.

Ahh, the cravings.  Only a smoker knows the agony of quitting and getting through those, “I need a cigarette!” moments.  Some people are all, “You should quit!” or “Can’t you just wait to smoke?”  To that I say, “NO!” and “NO!”  Newsflash—it’s not like switching from regular pop to diet.  It’s an addiction, a physical and mental addiction.  I’ve been told it takes 3 days for nicotine to get out of your system and the rest is just mind over matter.  It’s all about those trigger points.  It’s amazing what your mind can do to you.  I’ve attempted quitting once before, and it was pure hell.  Headaches and mood swings, not to mention that voice in the back of my head saying, “just do it, one more, come on, it will taste so good!” 

Of course I tried quitting at the worst possible time.  A close friend had just left for Iraq, which I promised him I would quit before he came home.  I was also 21—that new, bar hopping, drinking age.  Emotional female + 21 years old =  not a chance.  That lasted a week, and all I got from that was an afternoon finding tools I had hurled into our yard (I mentioned the mood swings, right?).

Let’s just hope I don’t have another tool-tossing episode.  I’m thinking about investing in a dart board.

Saturday, January 27^th

OK, so I think I might make it.  Of course I’m not even a day into it, but it’s been a good 15 hours.  This weaning thing just might work.  I guess I should make it known that I’m doing this with no patch or pill.  Sheer will power is my source, of course powered by my control freak-I can do it myself-I don’t need your stinkin’ help attitude.  Yes, I’m bullheaded, but I prefer to call it “strong willed”.

This is why I think I can do this—I drove for almost an hour last night, in stand-still traffic at that, and didn’t pull a Kathy Bates scene from Fried Green Tomatoes (“Face it girls, I’m older and I have more insurance.”—haha, great movie!).  See, driving is a big smoking trigger for me.  I can go less than 5 minutes down the street, but I HAVE to burn a smoke the second I get I click that seatbelt.  It’s a compulsion.  I remember one time I ran out before I could another pack and I felt like a crack addict needing a fix the whole 10 minutes drive.  Pathetic, right?  Yes, I know.

Anyways, I was making the long haul to my mom’s house for some quality mother-daughter time, and typically I smoke, ehh, like four cigarettes during the drive, sometimes five.  I’m proud to say I smoked two!  Yes ladies (and gentleman who might be reading this), I said two!  It gets even better—I ate enough pizza to technically commit one of the seven deadly sins (ok, that’s not such a good thing), but I didn’t have an after-meal smoke.  Oh, and yes, there is such a thing, it’s like chocolate cake and a cup of coffee for smokers.  It’s one of those after dinner mints, something that settles the food.  I don’t know exactly how else to describe it, but trust me, it’s real.

So I made it through the night, with just those two cigarettes I had on the drive.  Then I had to face my next challenge—my morning coffee.  For me (and I’m sure other smokers can attest to this) there’s two drinks that go hand in hand with a cigarette—coffee and beer.  On the weekends I can just sit outside and relax for an hour with my coffee and smokes, probably going through about 4 cups of coffee and twice as many cigarettes.  Thank God this morning it was cold.  I brewed up my coffee, and piddled around as long as I could before I HAD to go smoke.  I think I made it about 30 minutes before I cracked.  I headed outside and I’m proud to say I smoked just one!  “Alright,” I thought, “just one, that’s good.  It’s not two or four , right?”

Another hour or so later, I got the uncontrollable urge to smoke again, which by the way, I had been fighting for 45 minutes.  Ah ha!  I decided to smoke ½ a cigarette, which turned out to be just enough.  I figured to save it for the drive home, so I put it out half way and headed back inside. 

I started to think that I needed to make a plan.  Some sort of weird plan that will help me with the dang urges I get while driving.  I have this weird thing I do with smoking in the car.  On trips that I make routinely, such as work, going to my moms, to the store, etc., I have land markers that I have to smoke by, such as exits, or buildings.  I need to do something about this—and fast.  That’s where this, “it’s all mental after a while” thing kicks in.  So my game plan for my trip home from my moms is that I couldn’t smoke until I had been driving for 5 miles.  After that, I had to wait another 10 before I could smoke another.

Well, I’m home now and I’m proud to say that I smoked that ½ cigarette from earlier this morning and one more.  I beat myself at my own game!  I could have squeezed another one in there, but I didn’t.  Woo hoo!!! Another point for me!  I think I just might get through this.

Sunday, January 28^th

OK, last night was a true testament to the challenge that lies before me.  I had a birthday party for my friend’s kid out in Amelia.  The drive—45 minutes from my house.  After the birthday party, I had the Winter Blues Party off of Paddock Road—a 30 minute drive from Amelia.  Total cigarettes to Amelia, two; total cigarettes to Winter Blues, two.  Now here is the important part of why I feel so good about my cigarette consumption.  See, I sort of jumped back on the highway when I shouldn’t have.  Don’t ask, I’m typically good with directions.  So I have officially traveled practically the entire I-275 loop and gone all the way through Cincinnati.  I’m pissed, I’m frustrated with myself, I’m late, and now I’m lost.

After a phone call to my half-asleep father, I eventually found my way to the party.  I had officially been on the road for over an hour.  I think two cigarettes is pretty darn good, don’t you?  I made it through two hours at the event, even with drinking, and didn’t smoke once.  Hooray for me!  After Winter Blues, I headed to a house warming party, smoking once on that trip, none while I was there, and NONE on my 30 minute drive home!

I’m starting to think this is going to be easier than the last time.  So far I haven’t had a headache, I haven’t thrown anything, and my urges aren’t too bad.  We’ll see how I feel this week when I head into work—I’m hoping my opinion won’t change!

Last update: 11-02-2007 22:00

Published in : Chic Blog, General