catheroominations

Remember, three months ago, when I said I was ready to stop eating crap? Well, I have stopped eating crap. I no longer binge on things like Taco Works tortilla chips and salsa, chocolate, or frozen chocolate chip cookie dough. In fact, since before I started this new way of eating, there has been an unopened, untouched box of those deliciously bad little nuggets of goodness in my freezer.

I have completely changed my eating habits. I have given up soda, even diet soda. My new snacks are pomegranate seeds. I can’t remember the last time I ate fast food, or had ice cream. Sure, I allow myself a treat now and then, but today it’s in moderation. I can stop at one serving — a normal-sized serving. I eat low fat, I eat tons of fruit and veggies. I avoid sugar and don’t munch on candy. I rarely eat bread or pasta, unless the bread is whole wheat and the pasta is made from brown rice. My drink of choice is water. I drink approximately two liters of it a day. I gave up coffee, and replaced it with jasmine green tea.

I might be boring now to some. I don’t dine out much, unless I can get something reasonably healthy. That means I never go to my favorite Mexican restaurant anymore. I don’t really miss it though. I bring my lunch to work, and make all my own food. I avoid the processed junk that’s filled with sodium and words I cannot even pronounce.

Social situations and holidays freak me out a little, but in a good way. I am even more stubborn about my food when I am surrounded by the most temptation. I went on a cruise to Mexico and blew it big time, eating dessert at every dinner, drinking to my heart’s content, and ignoring my new ways of eating. Consequently, I gained weight and felt like crap when I got back home, just before Thanksgiving. I thought my plans were doomed, gaining weight before Thanksgiving? Instead of resorting to my old ways during the week of Thanksgiving, I lost the weight I gained on the cruise. Eating well just makes me feel better, inside and out.

Oh, and I’ve lost 15 pounds too.

What started me on this path was when I saw photos of myself from my 40th birthday party. I could not believe how far I’d “let myself go.” I didn’t think I looked like that person in the photos. I didn’t think that was the person I was projecting to people physically. Nevermind the fact that none of my clothes were fitting correctly and I would opt for workout wear whenever I could. I hated getting ready for work everyday. I hated shopping for new clothes, not because they didn’t fit right, but because I would have to buy a size I didn’t want to admit I was. So I squeezed into my clothes from thinner days and looked and felt like a sausage in denim casing.

Before you start thinking I’m a food Nazi now, I’m not. I do enjoy my old vices, but I don’t eat five times the serving size. I know that depriving myself will only lead to failure, but I also know that certain foods will trigger overeating and I could put myself in a downward spiral if I lose focus. I’ve learned how to stop eating mindlessly. Food is fuel, not a hobby or a habit.

I know at any moment I could return to my old ways. I’m still kind of new at this, but when I can fit into pants that have been hanging in the closet, waiting for me to wear them again, I can see how far I’ve come. I still have clothes I want to wear again soon, and I still have some pounds to lose. But I’m on the right track and am focused on my goals. Overcoming a bad relationship with food is like an alcoholic getting sober. At least I think so. I can’t speak from experience as an alcoholic, but like any bad habit, changing how I eat has been difficult. Most times I like it. Sometimes I hate it. It’s time consuming to make all your own food. It’s expensive to opt for organic produce. People have tried to sabotage my efforts, including my “diet buddy” who, not being successful, wants to bring me down with her. It’s hard to say no. But I’m learning.

Tonight the moon was closer to the earth than it has been since 1993, so I finally was inspired to take a photo or 30. And also, post something on my blog.

This week I learned that American Musical Theatre of San Jose has closed its doors.

And I became terribly sad.

American Musical Theatre of San Jose (AMTSJ, or AMT, as I like to still call it) is the local professional theatre company here. I once auditioned interviewed for a job as the assistant to the Executive Producer. I heard about the position from a friend and was tired of working in accounting. The job paid little more than that of a Starbucks barrista, and I couldn’t afford to live on that, so I declined the offer. I had loved hearing about the theatre company so much during the interview process, that I decided to volunteer backstage as a dresser, helping with costumes during productions.

The first time I stepped into the studio space at AMT, I was nervous. I didn’t know anyone, and knew nothing about costumes, or sewing. But I was immediately greeted with a smile from Val, a seasoned AMT dresser. She and I became fast friends, and soon I met the rest of my backstage pals (sisters, as we called ourselves), including Jenni, Andy (a boy, but still a sister), and Kari. Working backstage became my new hobby, and I would have rather been backstage than at my office. A few shows after my first with AMT, I met Shannon and Steph. Others came and went, but our close group of dressers, the Chicks in Black (yes, even Andy), became a family.

keep reading A final curtain call

This is what happens when you get up at 3 am to make it to Kohl’s for their 4:00 opening.

When I got home from SEVEN AND A HALF HOURS OF SHOPPING, I unpacked my loot and showed Matte the cute Christmas stamps I bought I got at Costco for cheaper than the regular price. I tried to open what I thought was a cardboard-enclosed 5-pack of postage stamps.

Yes, I brought home the piece of cardboard that they have on the merchandise floor that says “Please take this package to the register to purchase.” Well, DUH. Aren’t you supposed to take anything you want to buy to the register to purchase? The cashier was supposed to exchange the cardboard for actual stamps. She didn’t. The person who makes sure you’re not walking out the aircraft hangar-sized door with a 65-inch television you didn’t pay for gladly let me pass with my cardboard, because my receipt showed that I paid $41.75 for it. I’m not one to go stealing cardboard from Costco, you know.

So yeah, maybe I was a moron for coming home with what amounted to $42 worth of nothing, but the cashier AND the door Nazi didn’t seem to notice the mistake either. Perhaps they’d also been up since o’dark thirty?

On a good note, when I went all the way back to Costco on Black Friday to get my stamps, I got a couple more copies of their free cookbook, filled with fattening recipes, some from Paula Deen, like the one with nearly a pound of cheese melted with two pounds of cocktail wieners. I think it’s a dip because there are tortilla chips on the side. Just looking at the photo makes my arteries shrink in fear.

[Disclaimer: I know some of you like to view my blog with your kids. You should send them to watch Dora right now. I’m just saying.]

I don’t usually ever get political here on my blog. But I’ve been seething about something since even before November 4, 2008. Were it not for Barack Obama beating John McCain to become our 44th president on Tuesday night, I might be led to spit in the face of someone with a certain sign in their front yard, or a bumper sticker on their SUV (usually right next to their McCain/Palin sticker). But my thrill from Obama’s victory makes me want to be a better American, so I refrain. And also, BARACK OBAMA IS OUR NEW PRESIDENT! Hooray!

What has caused my rage is Proposition 8, or as it should be called “Proposition Hate.” You know the one, the idiot proposition that passed on Tuesday which means that the California Constitution will be AMENDED to REMOVE the RIGHT of homosexuals to marry. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve been in school, but I seem to recall from history class that amendments are written to GRANT rights, not take them away. And those amendments are usually written to give rights to those who were previously unfairly judged and discriminated against. But this time, my home state of California has chosen to amend our constitution TO judge and discriminate. It’s despicable and it makes me want to puke on someone’s lawn, right next to that bright yellow and blue sign showing a stick-figure hetero family holding hands. (Yes, the signs are still up.)

So congratulations California. You’ve made me angry at people I don’t even know. I’m mad at those people who put this proposition on the ballot in the first place. People who can’t leave well enough alone. People who DON’T EVEN LIVE IN CALIFORNIA and donated money to support this proposition.

Apparently more than half of California voters busy themselves with gay people’s business and decided to take away their right to marry. But no one can no one ever will take away their right to love one another. Also, and this is a big FYI – even if they cannot marry, there will always BE gay people. Always. They’ll still work with you, be parents to your kids’ classmates, ring up your groceries, and OH MY GOD give you medical examinations.

“Civil ceremonies are a ridiculous consolation prize. Same-sex couples should be treated like PEOPLE, because that’s what THEY ARE. I have many, many gay friends and it makes me sad to know that they can no longer marry. Matte and I photographed a gay wedding ceremony on the 26th of October. The couple wanted to be sure to get married soon, just in case, and didn’t have time or money to plan for a professional photographer. There was so much love at that wedding. The families were thrilled, everyone was smiling, and people (not even guests at the wedding) came up afterward and told the girls they hoped other couples would still be able to join lives in marriage after November 4.

How did this state full of “crazy” bleeding-heart liberals let this pass? And let it pass in the same year we elected our FIRST AFRICAN AMERICAN PRESIDENT? WTF California? In case my feelings for Prop 8 are not clear from reading this, here’s a photo that sums it up:

*I got this idea from Alison, who got it from AndreAnna, who got it from Swistle, who got it from Allen.

Yesterday I joined nearly 20,000 women (and a few men) in running the 2008 Nike Women’s Half Marathon in San Francisco. Of the three half marathons I have done this year, this one has got to be my favorite. It was also the hardest, the most rewarding, and the most emotional.

keep reading Run Like a Girl

ad·dic·tion (É™-dÄ­k’shÉ™n) n. Compulsive physiological and psychological need for a habit-forming substance.

For as long as I can remember, I have had a problem with food. I have an insatiable sweet tooth. I grew up on Cookie Crisp, Trix, Apple Jacks and Fruit Loops and normally ate two bowls full every morning. Dessert was a regular part of the dinner ritual. My school lunches always had cookies, or Snack Pack puddings. I didn’t like to eat fruit and only ate it when I had to. The same with vegetables. If I ate toast, I’d load it with butter and sprinkle a mix of sugar and cinnamon on top. I loved ice cream sundaes and would fill the bowl with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. I once had a babysitter who taught me to jazz up Oreo cookies by squirting Redi-Whip on them. Yum! When I was old enough to go to a school where I could buy what I wanted, I opted for peanut chews and chocolate shakes as my lunch. Even now, if I were to see a peanut chew, I would have trouble not taking a bite, or possibly eating the whole thing.

I grew up chubby and inactive. I thought I was ugly and fat. But rather than make changes to my bad habits, I took solace in more food.

keep reading Learning to say no. Again.