A little late is better than not at all, right?

I weighed in yesterday and found that I'd lost 5 pounds. I'm not allowing myself to get too excited, but I will admit that I was sure a lot happier this week than I was the last few weeks!

Have you ever said to yourself, "I'll just have a bite of ice cream (or whatever your weakness is). One bite won't hurt." So you take the bite, find that you've lost weight at the end of the week and think, "Wow, even though I had that bite of ice cream, I still lost weight! Cool!"

So the following week another opportunity comes up and you tell yourself that just one bite won't hurt, after all it didn't the week before...and then it happens a few times per week, then once a day, then to the point where you eat the whole piece of cake, or whatever. Before long the weight stops come off, you ask yourself where the problem is because you're doing everything that you're supposed to.

We've all been there. We're all human. We're all trying to lose that weight. (Well, most of us are, anyway.) The problem with unconscious self-sabotage is that we tend to allow those extra bites of food to become the entire piece because something, deep inside our mental pscyhe, wants to protect us from being hurt. Protect us from the harmful issues that surround us in the world. If you're like me, you've been fat all of your life (or a good portion of it) and it's what we know...what we're familiar with. The unknown is a scary place for anyone, whether it's in visiting a new restaurant, country, or being 100 pounds lighter than we used to be.

For most of us, our entire identity is built on who and what we've been for most of our lives. For me, it's being short and fat. That's also why I've told myself that I don't want to be thin...instead, I just want to be a healthy plump. My goal weight is 50 pounds heavier than any medical professional will tell me that I am supposed to be at, however it's a good deal less than what I used to weigh. However, I will still be chubby...thus keeping myself still within a comfort level that I am familiar with.

Make realistic goals for yourself. Exercise, eat right, be positive. Don't give in to that internal self wanting to fight to stay with the familiar by allowing yourself that whole piece of whatever. Keep the bite to just a bite...and you'll be so much happier with yourself when you do.

Hitting a plateau several weeks ago was tough, but I still figured I'd eventually start losing again. Here it is, a while later, and I'm still maintaining at the same weight. And for once, this morning I didn't feel at all motivated to get up and get on the treadmill. I found myself asking myself, "Why bother when it's not going to help anyway?" I've been doing everything I'm supposed to, eating the right foods, avoiding the wrong ones, allowing myself tastes of what's bad for me so as to not sabotage everything that I've worked for so far. And still...nothing. The scale doesn't budge.

I have over 100 pounds remaining. I need to find somewhere within me, the will to want to lose. Because right now, as it stands, I'm just not feeling it.

I've hit a plateau in my weight loss. I've been eating properly, certainly exercising, but the scale just doesn't want to move! I'm so frustrated it's not even funny!

So...I'm going to employ another 9 days cleanse. It's basically no food for 2 days while drinking this disgusting drink, then normal "shake" days for the following 5 days, then 2 more cleanse days. The cleanse days are rough since my husband adores eating crap in front of me. Okay, maybe ADORES is a bit strong, but he has no problem doing so. Anyway, something needs to change. I'm getting a little disheartened at the whole ordeal. I still have 100 pounds to lose...I can't hit a plateau NOW!

This week's weigh-in showed a 1 pound gain. *Sigh*

Recently I voiced my opinion on Facebook of my disappointment that my mom has become more conservative as she's gotten older. Saddened at this, my once liberal mom no longer believes in a lot of things that she once did. There are a number of factors that I attribute this change to, since who we are is molded a great deal by what we are surrounded with. She resides in Utah which, as most of the country knows, is quite conservative. Obama didn't win in Utah, I can tell you that! Most, I won't say all since that's just ridiculous, military people are conservative. My step-dad's ex-military, I imagine he'll always be involved somewhat in that life since it's hard to leave almost 30 years of your life in your past for good.

Oddly, when I posted that on Facebook, it wasn't my mom who replied to the post, but my step-dad, who called it bullshit and subsequently accused me of living in "fairyland". I'm a little puzzled at this one...what exactly IS fairyland. Let's take a look at Webster's dictionary and see what it has to say...

Interestingly enough, Webster's has no idea what I'm talking about! The only results I'm able to find are put out by Wikipedia, which is never the most reliable source of information since anyone could log in today and change the wording to the Star-Spangled Banner to the lyrics from Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and call it right. The closest thing that I can find to it is put out by Princeton University. Unsure if that's THE Princeton, or if it's something else entirely. Anyway, it says: "fantasy world; something existing solely in the imagination (but often mistaken for reality)".

Does that mean that MY beliefs are what he considers imaginary? Does the fact that I believe in our president of the United States, the man whom I voted for, mean that he doesn't support him? What American doesn't support their president??? Isn't there a word for that? I can't think off hand (damn meds with the side effect of memory loss!) Anyway, if I live in an imaginary land, does that mean that I'm imagining being poor? Will I wake up tomorrow only to find that I'm a gajillionire and living in Bora Bora? Or maybe school is a dream and I'm still stuck at my old job that I hated. Fairyland... Hmmm, quite interesting.

Unfortunately, I'm now going to have to censor what I say on my own Facebook page, because goodness knows I don't want to be accused of living in a "fairyland" again. Sigh. And just when I thought it was safe to release the breath I've been holding.

It's always difficult when you don't share the same beliefs as the ones that you love. I imagine that the best that I can do is set it all aside and just love them anyway. Because I do. I love my mom, and I love my step-dad, even if he said I live in fairyland! Cuz I know that he doesn't mean any harm in it, that it was an instinctual reaction in sticking up for my mom.

I know they both read my blog on a regular basis, so mom, Randy....from my fairyland to yours...I love you both, and I'm looking forward to seeing you guys next month! :)

I have a friend in one of my classes who has a small chihuahua that has been ill for the past several weeks. The chi is old (around 14, I believe) and was vomiting, and yelping in pain every time he was touched. He could barely move. Obviously the first thought is maybe it's his time.

The thing is is that she isn't established at any veterinarian. She said that her dogs have never been sick so why should she bother taking them to the vet? Now, maybe it's because I feel that my babies are my babies, and not mere animals, so I'm always taking them in for their yearly shots/check-ups, etc. Maintenance is the best care there is when it comes to both humans AND critter kids. I visit my doctor every 3 months so she can monitor my weight loss and blood pressure. It's just the way it is. Often we're short on cash (more often than not!) and are unable to afford other various things at the time of the check-up...so we end up buying cheaper food (or just not as much that month) so that we have extra to take the babies to the vet (or to see the doctor ourselves).

I don't understand when others don't do the same. If it were a human child, would you neglect taking it in every year for shots and the check-ups? No! Why on earth would you do that for a critter baby?

So needless to say, she was basically forcing this poor little chi to suffer in pain and agony simply because she didn't have any money to take him in. Now, my vet knows us by now, after seeing us every year and whenever there's something that's come up, so we're established with her, and they work with us with payments, etc. when we're unable to pay it all at once. We'll usually give her what we can and then pay the rest off when K gets paid or a school loan comes in. But asking a vet who doesn't know you from Joe Blow across the street to allow you to make payments is ridiculous!

Another friend of mine has a cat who is urinating blood. At the simplest, it's a UTI, at worst it could be any number of things! Both he and his husband aren't working, he is bringing in unemployment, and they are unable to take her to the vet. So this poor kitty is having to suffer because of their ineptness.

I understand not having money. I've been unemployed for going on 2 years now, I'm a student, and we're only making our way on K's checks. We're poorer than we've ever been in my life. But we have NEVER made a concession in our pet's behalf if shots or health care were needed. We do what we need to do in order to get them taken care of. It's just who we are.

I guess what I'm saying is...if you can't afford to care for your pet(s) on a daily/weekly/yearly/emergency basis, then PLEASE find someone else who can. Don't assume that because your pet has never been sick that you don't need to take them in. How do you know it hasn't been sick? Have they told you?

Do you take your pet in for shots/check-ups on a yearly basis? Emergencies? Or do you fall into the category that my two friends do?

I'm not here to bash on anyone. I'm just very frustrated that people do this sort of thing. I'd love to hear your input, for or against this topic. Please, discuss in the comments!

Many people, after having read my previous post about my Cosmo boy, have accused me of being selfish for feeling so heartrendingly sad to see him go. Let me assure you, once again, that I am ECSTATIC that he has found a wonderful home. He's now got a permanent playmate with their big dog (who was/is well taken care of, I noticed), parents who will love him and give him lots of scritches and tummy tubs to his little heart's content.

But let me try to explain how and why I feel the way that I do. I spend hours each week at the SPCA. Most of the pups there are adopted within a couple of weeks of arrival, so I don't form as close of a bond with them as I do with the "long timers" who've been there for a few months. There are 4 dogs that I can think of off hand who have been there as long as, or shortly after, I've been volunteering (since before xmas). Kermit, Tobi, and Archie are all kids who were there before I got there. Cosmo arrived, I believe, the same week that I did. His paperwork claimed that he'd been found wandering the streets as a stray. As soon as I looked into his sweet and soulful eyes, I knew that there was more to his beautiful spirit than just being a dog. Of course, I always know that these critters are MORE than just an animal....I call them my kids. My extended family of children. Anyway, his eyes, they were so full of wisdom and sadness. I don't know how long he was without a home, if he ever had one, but I knew that he was going to be one who needed some time to find the right forever home. I took him under my wing. I would sit for sometimes over an hour in his kennel with him, telling him stories, whispering secrets, telling him about my life, school, my various problems. He never judged, he never told any other doggies (or people) about my issues. He just listened, patiently, understandingly. He knew what I was feeling. I absolutely know that for a fact. I even cried a few tears in the thick fur around his neck as I held him close for hugs and support. He would just look at me with those deep eyes, and I knew I had a kindred soul with me. That I had a greatness in my presence.

I know many of you think that I'm crazy for saying all of this about a dog. But if you had gotten the chance to know Cosmo the way that I did, you'd understand.

Over 2 months passed by... With each dog who left the shelter with their new people he would look hopefully out the gate of his kennel...wondering when it would be his turn. I could read his mind, we had that much of a connection. I assured him that his family was going to be so special that they needed just a bit more extra time to find him than the others did. So he wanted patiently with me. We became closer...the more secrets shared, the closer our bond became. With each opening of the door, we'd both look up, in hopeful earnest, to see if THIS time it was for him.

I was so lucky to be there a few days ago when it WAS for him. And I almost wasn't! I was planning to run some errands that would take most of the afternoon that day. I left the house, got into the car, and would remember something else that I'd forgotten and have to run back in. Before I even left the front of my house, I'd been in and out of my car three times! My first stop was the grocery store to pick up some things and my meds. The first thing I realized was that I'd forgotten a coupon that I'd had in my hand before I left for a free product. I chalked it up to just one of those days and headed toward the pharmacy. They were closed for lunch and wouldn't be back for another hour. It was at the point that I realized that I was probably not supposed to run my errands that day, that I was supposed to be at the SPCA instead. So I headed over to the shelter, camera in hand, as always, and went straight to Cosmo. I sat down in the kennel with him and spent over an hour with him, snapping pics, talking, laughing, playing, giving tummy rubs. The next thing I knew, his number was up. His new family was there. It was time. I was supposed to be there so that I could say goodbye to my Cozzy. And that was the most precious gift that I could have ever received. That extra time to just say goodbye. I cried in his fur that day, when his new family was doing the paperwork. And I cried when I gave him his final hug as he was leaving out the door. I will miss my Cosmo very much...but I do look forward to forming another special bond with another critter soon.

If I'd known that my Emily had been as loved as Cosmo was when I adopted her, I'd feel so much better remembering the history of adopting her. Loving the critters is a good thing. And I'm better for it.

Yesterday my sweet, sweet boy, Cosmo, was adopted and left the shelter. He'd been there almost as long as I've been volunteering, and he didn't show well at the gate of his kennel, so everyone was kind of expecting that he'd be there for a while. So I took him under my wing. He became my sweet buddy, my best pal at the shelter. I whispered in his ear secrets that nobody else knows and I rest assured that he will never tell. It was in his eyes that I found solace on my bad days, so full of deep wisdom and soul. He was more than a friend to me, my Cosmo boy, he was one of the greatest buddies that I will ever know.

I cried when I said goodbye to him, and I cried later after going to bed, alone in the dark. My heart knows that he will be happy in his new home, with his new family, but I am saddened at the fact that I will never again see his face light up when he sees me walk in the door, his tail thumping lightly on the floor. His new people are very nice and he has a playmate in their 9 month old New Finland puppy (a very slobbery and sweet puppy). I gave him one last and final hug as they were leaving out the door; I whispered to him that he will always be loved by me, and that I would never forget him, his infinite and quiet wisdom, his thoughtful regard for me when I needed a sweet and sloppy kiss on the face. I would never forget the hugs that we shared, the big and solid body, so warm and jiggly (private joke between he and I), and his love.

Cosmo, I know you will love your new family, but know that I will always love you and will never forget you.

Adieu, my sweet friend, adieu.

After this past week I was truly afraid to hop on the scale. K and I have been putting off our monthly trip to the grocery store for the past 2 weeks and so we basically had nothing in the house to eat. We solved this issue by eating out. One night we ordered in pizza, another night we ordered in chinese, and another night we got subways. Granted, I did eat smartly and didn't overeat or eat anything TERRIBLY bad for me, but it was definitely more ordering out than I was used to. So anyway, I thought surely I would gain. My eating was terrible, my water intake was a joke, and well, everything else was just uncool...except for exercise. Of course I got my hour in daily. I never deviate from that one.

I weighed in this morning, gritting my teeth, squinting and peeking through my almost-closed eyelids at the dreaded number...

I lost 1/2 of a pound. Usually this would be kind of a bummer for me, but after this past week? Miraculous!

We've since done our grocery shopping, the house is full of good and healthy things, and I've vowed that my water intake is going to improve 110% this coming week. So, next week I just know the number lost will be immensely larger. This week...I gained by a small loss. I won the small battle by a minute margin, and I will DEFINITELY win the war!

Booyah!

Isagenix.

(Check out the link on the right side and let me know if you're interested.)

The worst thing someone can do when you're eating healthy is tempt you with chocolate. I don't know many people who don't like it, including me! So math class was yesterday, and the instructor always brings in gum, mints, tootsie pops, etc. etc. Occasionally, during a holiday and when she finds a deal, I'm assuming, she brings in chocolate. Bad, bad chocolate! Well, actually it's good, GOOD chocolate...but bad, bad temptation-wise for me! So there I was, I took a couple pieces of gum, one for now, one for later (who doesn't?) and am faced with this pile of chocolates in the shape of hearts and wrapped in pink and red foil. Oh me, oh my! I resisted throughout class, all the while eying that blasted chocolate as though it were poison! And just before I left at the end, I grabbed a few pieces. I know, I know...I totally caved. I'm so ashamed! *Sobbing*

When I reached my photography class I took one out of my bag (I'd just tossed them into my book bag in hopes that the deterrent of having to root around for them at the bottom of it would give me time to change my mind), unwrapped the dastardly piece, and realized that it was dark chocolate. Now, we all know that dark chocolate is a lot more bitter than milk-chocolate and, therefore, easier to resist. I was happily surprised. I popped it into my mouth, closed my eyes, enjoying the sweet, sweet flavor of bitter, dark chocolate, relishing the complete decadence of it all... Beginning to chew slowly, reluctantly, ever so gently, as to savor every last morsel of chocolaty goodness as it swept across my tongue in ever widening swishes of my tongue, coating the insides of my cheeks, my teeth, the roof of my mouth with wonderful sapidity...enjoying it till the very end: the moment of swallowing the decadent morsel from heaven.

And now, my yearning for chocolate has been abolished. I fished out the remaining pieces, doled them out to a couple of strangers whilst en route to my car after class. My craving had been appeased.

I caved in to the chocolate, blog, but I won the battle in the end. I conquered, I destroyed, and I relished a victory sweeter than the chocolate, itself.

Have you ever noticed that, at first whiff, antifreeze smells like a yummy maple bar?

Seriously!

Just sayin'.