due to a new life plan (i'm calling it the 'food/move plan', due to it's focus on food and, well, moving) i have become a bit more aware of ye olde alcohol this week. the food/move plan is awesome for many reasons, but mostly because i only have to implement any given change for ONE WEEK, and then the next week i get to do something else. because really, i can avoid sugar-covered-fried-balls-of-yum for one week, but day eight? that's when it all goes to shit.

anyways, this weeks food part of the food/move plan involves cutting down a wee bit on the booze-a-roo. remember, this is only for ONE WEEK. next week=me.sauced.24.7. last night i had a little dinner hoohah to show off my new cooking prowess, and a few bottles of wine were consumed. (not by me. i had a glass. if this was next week {or really, last week} i would have answered yes to the few bottles question). this is where i show you my willpower face. WILLPOWER (grimace grimace)

the move part of the food/move plan this week is infinity easier than cutting down on the sauce. this week, it's swimming! really! i've already gone twice, and i've already remembered how much i heart heart swimming. mostly because no one can talk to me underwater, and because i don't wear goggles so i get to make a super tough squinty face when i come up for air. it's rad.
now, having a move part in the food/move plan might seem like a bit of overkill, given that i teach exercise classes a week. that's more exercise than god.
however, teaching exercise doesn't quite=normal exercise. certainly my muscles get the workout, but my brain doesn't get to check out. that's what i'm missing, and why there is a move component in the food/move plan. i want to get to that sweaty, forget about the rest of my life place. especially if i get to make a squinty face in the process.


things i am considering:

- forensic accounting
- how to be the type of person who can taste a blend of herbs and identify them. all. correctly.
- how to be a good friend
- midwifery
- time spent alone vs. time at work vs. time with friends. reevaluate for happiness.
- babies born too soon.
- weekly exercise/diet goals governed by chance.
- discover cards offer of 0% apr on transferred balances for the year.


thank god the sun is out today. it's crispcold, but i no longer feel like flushing myself down a toilet, or other such desperate measures. phew.
as someone who dates a lot (understatement) i've been reminded (againagain) of this whole 'baggage' idea. i remember thinking around 21 or so that i was reaching the place where every man i met would have some 'deal', or trippy ex girlfriend, or other such things on the "what you should know about me before we decide that we are more than fuckbuddies" list.
in the middle of one such conversation recently though, it became clear that as i get older the baggage gets heavier, and most certainly trickier to negotiate. now there are ex-fiances, or wives, jobs that don't include time for late night shenanigans, and death, and things that are hard to say aloud. tricky, tricky things, that i'm not nearly deft enough to navigate.

i got my first real simple magazine in the mail this week. i inhaled it in like 1 hour.
i got my first discover magazine in the mail this week as well, and have only made it through two (two page) articles. shit is dense, but just as good (at least) for the soul as r.s.' touchy-lovely hoohah. one of the articles was about this new strain of disease (condition?) due to the over prescription of antibiotics. kills people quick. and is super contagious. and something absurd like 20% of people who are hospitalized for two weeks or more due to another issue end up catching it in the hospital. (!!#$).

another reason to steer clear of el hospital. (silent h).


i got home from work tonight at 6:30 to find a note on my door, explaining that there will be someone coming to see my place at 9AM tomorrow.

AM people.

i'm aware that i have a more 'lax' schedule than some friends ( i'm also aware that i have a much more 'lax' income as well). 9am is the absolute earliest i get out of bed on any given day. usually, the alarm isn't set, and it's more like 10:30.
before you freak, understand that i work at night. usually, i teach til 9 o clock. oh, and all day saturdays. oh, and friday nights. and sunday nights too.

wednesdays are the super sweet, almost like a day off days.

tomorrow is wednesday.

i've yet to decide how i'm going to deal. get up at 8:55? sleep through the knock at my door and proceeding tour? get up at 7 and scrub the tub? hard to say.
certainly isn't going to be fun though, promise.


i love my home. i love the big ceilings, the pretty wood floors, the 45 natural gas lines that grid out the ceiling, the pool, the gym, the green bricks, the lack of closet doors and the way that people, when seeing it for the first time say "oh, it's so cool*."

so, naturally, i'm moving.

my lease goes up at the end of febraury, and in an effort stave-off the descension of the yearly antsies, i'm sorting clothes, throwing away old makeup, giving away chick lit, and moving.

damn antsies. making me give away jodi piccoult books** and lavender eyeshadow.

this is the first time i've tried this approach: to attach the boredom that hits around month 10 or 11 of a job/life/town. see, i really lovelove the job/life/town situation i'm rocking, but in all honesty, the antsies don't really care. if i ignore them they will start whispering about grad school, and far away friends, and more money for work, and all of a sudden i'll be applying to move to china to work with babies who don't have mommas. or arms. or something***.

so we'll see. i am feeling the same thrill of 'oh! new-ness! i'll probably make friends and have a cute couch and sit on my porch drinking martinis and be 10lbs thinner!'. i think THAT's actually the genesis of the antsies, so if i can feed them without giving up all the OTHER awesomeness of my life (see: job(s), friends, sweet friday nights) then i will have won.

antsies:14 (approximate amount of times i have made drastic life changes for no reason)
leenie: 1.

*"cool" is not something i usually aim for. but in this case, it's a pretty apt description, and is used with such frequency to describe my place that i've come to believe it.
** not really chick lit, but still. ::shudder::
**no offense china babies. you are cute even without arms, and i'm pretty sure there are 72 other 20-something women who feel the same tug as i to come and feed you lunch. cause, you know, that's difficult without arms.