Life Lessons Learned (accidentally) in the Kitchen: Part I

I've done too many dishes for too many men in my life. 

If that isn't the best way to open a blog post then I don't know what is.

But really, dishes are not my favorite. Yet I can recall way too many times where I have bitten the proverbial bullet and labored over a mountain of dirty, grimy dishes to "impress" a man. I'll leave that "impress" in quotes because it's actually quite ludicrous that I would think doing dishes would "impress" anyone, let alone a man, who doesn't care about dishes, clearly, since there's a pile of them in the sink that I'm about to dive in to.

I was making chili for the football game last week at a friends house, who happens to be a man. And he happened to have a massive pile of dishes in his sink. Now I'm no neat freak, but, I'm not a huge fan of cooking in a kitchen that has last week's scraps still laying around at the bottom of a sink. I make a mess when I cook, and I need all the mess to belong to me. I need a clean slate for my culinary creations.

So as I'm preparing to prepare my chili, I'm faced with a dilemma. My first instinct is to roll up my sleeves and clear the sink. I'd be doing it mostly for me, but hey wouldn't my friend also think that I'm super awesome and an amazing super-woman for doing his dishes? I mean, surely a woman that comes over and cooks AND cleans for you is one of incredible worth that you should snatch up right away and treat like a princess forever and ever, right?

RIGHT?

And then it hit me. I've done too many dishes for too many men in my life, and not one of them has treated me like a princess for any period of time, never mind forever and ever. In fact, most of them probably didn't ever notice. Yet for some reason, my very strange brain had me convinced for all these years, that showing a man I can do dishes will prove my worth, showcase my value. How absolutely stupid is that?

So here is where it stops. The dishes. The laundry. The cleaning. No mas. I don't need to do any of that for anyone else to prove how awesome I am. I am just awesome, and if for some mind-blowing reason that isn't apparent, then getting down and dirty with some dish detergent isn't going to change that.

In the end, my friend did the dishes. After many, many attempts at diversion (let's go outside, I'm going to start the fire, oh hey look the dogs need to go out, want me to make you a sandwich?). I understand his hesitation. After all, dishes aren't my favorite, either.  

On losing my job...

I never, ever, in a million years thought that I'd be unemployed. And now that I'm staring down the barrel of it, I'm kinda freaking out. Actually, I'm really freaking out.

And for good reason. I JUST started this job in January after leaving the company that nurtured me from a young pup fresh out of college to the experienced, moderately intelligent, tragically charismatic person I am today. Without a job. Sorry I keep going back to that. Anyway after finally kicking myself out of the nest in December I started a new gig with a great company with great potential, just an all around good situation. And boom, as quickly as it came, its gone again. And I'm left without a job, without a plan and with plenty of fears.

I have never not had a job. Okay fine. Revise that. I have never not had a job since I was 14. That's still a 13 year working streak that is about to be abruptly ended.

Not to mention the budget implications. Now I don't live lavishly, by any stretch. But I do like to make meaningful purchases, or go out for memorable moments with friends and family. But that goes away when you're getting a "paycheck" from the government every week for a fraction of your prior salary. I'm pretty sure government issued cheese and something about a van down by a river comes next.

I digress.

It's not about the money, it's about how limiting not having the money is. So, I guess it is about the money.

I have given a lot of thought about what I'm going to do with all this time on my hands. I finally have time to do all the things I've been wanting to do, like paint the bathrooms, and actually paint and decorate our very blah bedroom. And search for the perfect piece of art to hang over the couch. Take the pups to the groomers for looooong over due baths and mani/pedis. Maybe I'll get a mani/pedi! Or a massage! But then I remember, all of that, every last bit of it, costs money. Money money money.

And then I get depressed because, I remember that everything comes with a price tag. So I still have no idea what I'm going to do with myself, or how I'm going to do anything at all, other than sit at home, without spending money, or spending very little.

I have less than two days to figure out how to avoid becoming a miserable, unemployed, house hermit. Suggestions welcomed...

I guess the good news is that I can spend my entire day at the gym... awesssssome....

Two tried and true secrets to weight loss

Do you really want to know the two secrets to weight loss? I have them, and I am about to share them with you here:

First, get your wisdom teeth out and suck down protein shakes as your main source of nourishment for a few days.

Then, right when you’re on the brink of being able to chew solid food and return to normalcy, get your hands on some kind of nasty, awful gastrointestinal infection and watch as your insides revolt and find the quickest exit out of your body.

I promise you’ll drop weight. I dropped 4 pounds in 3 days. Yikes.

So I have bad luck.

Okay fine, I have really shitty luck when it comes to my health. I don’t know why. I always have. No matter how well I take care of myself, something ridiculous always happens.

Ever since embarking on this journey, I have been feeling amazing. I had some momentum going into the wisdom teeth removal and them BAM! Get slammed with some mystery intestinal war. And now all I can eat ARE carbs. How ironic... All I can stomach are saltines, jello and freaking popsicles. Its absolutely awful. I’m not even kidding. I’m CRAVING protein, but I’m terrified of eating it right now. So I’ll just remain on the carb bloat. Ugh.

I can’t even tell you how anxious I am to return to normal and can get back on the train.

What I’m really going to miss is boobs

Well, now that I’ve got your attention....

But really I do want to talk about this, because, well, its happening. And I apologize to my mother in advance for this post because I know exactly what she’s going to say.

Growing up I never had boobs. I was a gymnast, I didn’t have much of anything other than calf muscles and sweet triceps and amazing lats. Those were my accomplishments. But I bet you never heard the boys snicker “yo did you see the tri’s on that chick? So hot.” So there was much to be desired in the chestal area for me.

While all the 12 and 13 year old girls were out buying bras, I was cutting my leotards to look like bras and stuffing them with shoulder pads. Yes, shoulder pads. Did you know that they are the perfect shape for pseudo-boobs, are easy to adjust, and look waaaay better than handfuls of tissues? Its a damn good thing I’m clever.

It wasn’t until college when I got substantial boobs. The freshman fifteen finally caught up to me my junior year. I blew up, everywhere. Boobs, butt, muffin top, all of it. But I remember waking up one morning in my apartment on Pembroke Ave my junior year, looked down at myself and said “holy crap when did these get here?” It was a day of both joy and sadness. Joy because I finally FINALLY had boobs. And sadness because I only got the boobs because there was no other place for my body to put the fat. You can’t win ‘em all, I guess.

Years later, here we are. And one month into this, my boobs are slowly departing. And while I’m somewhat saddened by this, because really, boobs are awesome, I’m also somewhat happy. I was never meant to have them. I never knew how to properly support them. And I was getting sick of the rate of growth vs. the rate of me wanting to show them off. Because lets be honest, boobs aren’t that cool when your muffin top is competing for prominence. So even though they have been there, I haven’t really been able to do anything with them other than cover them up along with the rest of my body.

And now everything is shrinking. Boobs, butt, muffin top, all of it. And while I’m saddened to say good-bye to the twins, I think I’ll be okay without them.

So long as muffin top packs up and goes with them.

My fellow Blog Followers.

I have neglected you, and I am sorry.

But, over the course of my absence, I can confirm that I did not. Resume. Relations. With. Carbs.

And I’m not lying.

Several major events have occurred:

First. People are starting to talk about me. In a good way. And to my face (whoa). Things like “you are really looking great, Corey” and “look at those guns, Corey” are flying around out there. It feels good to be noticed for positive changes.

Second. I have my workout program in its entirety. My upper body program, lower body/core program and my Energy System Training program.

My what?

Don’t worry about it. Just know that its 25 minutes of sweat and profanity inducing intervals.

The other two lifting programs are pretty intense too, each reduce me to spaghetti (you know, that feeling when your extremities feel like wet noodles? Yeah that). I EVEN got up at 5:30 one morning to workout. Okay I did it once, BUT, I did it, and I’ll be doing it again. Extenuating circumstance (read: excuses) kept me from doing it all last week but, I’m going after that 5:30 am wakeup for workout this week, fear not!

Overall, let me just say that in the one month I’ve been doing this, I feel like a completely different person. Its incredible the impact that food has on your life, good and bad. I have realized that for the past 26 years I’ve been living in a carb coma. And that has effected me in ways I never thought possible. And now that I’m slowly but surely detoxing my body from the effects of the 26 year coma, I can’t imagine going back. I can’t imagine waking up every day feeling like I didn’t sleep for a second. I can’t imagine stuffing my face full of a plate of pasta and feeling that hunger-hole in my stomach 5 minutes later. I can’t imagine the insulin crashes and stress binging. Ugh how disgusting that all made me feel.

And a long over-due shout out to all those supporters out there. All of you. Everyone that asks how I’m doing, everyone commenting on these posts, everyone with encouragement, thank you. Because if you weren’t checking in on me then, it would be a lot easier to not hold myself accountable. So, thanks. Again. Keep it coming!

AND I'll try to decrease the distance between posts. Sorry 'bout that :-)

Oh, hi.

Okay relax. I’m here. Don’t fret.

Sometimes life gets a little complex and rather than air my dirty laundry on the interweb, I needed to hide out for a bit. If I had allowed myself to express my frustrations over the past few days, I would have been short a job and probably a few friends. So. I actually used the filter (for once) and said nothing.

Its been hard the past several days. Really freaking hard. Like, from the second my toes touch the floor in the morning I’m on a battlefield hard. The kind of hard that I would wash down with a bottle of red and shut up with pizza and pasta and all kinds of delicious sugars. But instead I have refrained. Somehow. Many MANY times.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had some wine. But probably have consumed a bottle over the course of 2 weeks, instead of 2 hours. Progress? You betcha! Perfect? No way. But more than enough progress to keep me satisfied.

And there is that concept again. Progress. Small wins. Baby steps. Its not realistic to ask for 0 to 60 while skipping over 1 to 59. I know that. But its so hard to be at a standstill and want to be flying down the highway with the wind blowing through your hair, and not want to slowly accelerate.

Like Veruca said, “its my bar of chocolate, give it to me NOW!”

I’d like to share a few examples of my personal progress with you right now:

I quite literally just an hour ago received a free meal from my most favorite restaurant. SECONDS away from ordering a succulent sounding pasta dish that was new to the menu, I opted instead for the burger. Which, I only ate one half of one half of the bun. So, I ate one quarter. Is that right? Math is not my forte. But yes that’s right. I had a burger and I ate one quarter of the bun. I mean I had to. I HAD TO. I did. I needed that bread and oh my was it delightful.

At a graduation party of the weekend, one where I would normally have consumed several adult beverages and many many carb filled delights, I settled for a brief grazing at the appetizer table and one single solitary glass of red wine. People thought I was sick because I wasn’t drinking.

I had to spend hours taking pictures of food at my most favorite local store. Snapping pics of fresh baked bread, pies, tortellini salad, prepared lasagnas, cookies, even toffee covered peanuts! (oh my) I walked out of there with a head of lettuce and some chicken.

I mean, come on guys, do you know me? Do you have ANY idea how hard all of that is? For the average bear yes, those are challenging scenarios.

But for me, ME, especially. My god, I have a tattoo of I <3 Bread right on my belly. I’m the Queen of Crackers, the Princess of Pasta, the Warrior of Wine. I run on that stuff like American Runs on Dunkin.

BUT. And there is a but.

I feel amazing. Okay alright I’m stressed out a little bit about work and life. But otherwise I feel incredible. I’m sleeping. I’m not hungry all the time. I’m not bloated. My face has thinned out. I FEEL thinner even if I don’t look it. I feel good about my self for the first time in a long time. A VERY long time.

I have a long way to go. But I’d say I’m off to a great running start. I meet with the trainer (for a real workout) this weekend, and will start doing my program on my own all next week. That’s kind of step 2 in this whole process. Step 1 being kick the carb habit.

Consider it kicked.

Boo.

Yeah.

I'm kinda like Doc Rivers

Small Wins

I've been saying this a lot lately, as it pertains to many areas of my life. Small wins at work like meaningful praise from a client. Small wins at home like being able to finally get to the bottom of that mountain of laundry. Even small wins here, in this thing that I’m doing. Yeah I set myself back a couple of days with my Saturday Shenanigans, but, I was right back on track after that indiscretion. Normally I would say something along the lines of “well F that” and just scrap the whole thing after a night like Saturday. So, not doing that? Small win.

Speaking of laundry. I was dreading getting ready for work this morning. Not because it’s Monday, or because it was June Gloom outside, but because I washed/dried all my jeans all at once, which meant, they were going to be tight. Which meant, feeling slightly like a sausage squeezing into a casing.

Wow. I can’t believe I just made that comparison, that’s disgusting. I apologize to my sister for that.

So after fully preparing myself for the normal lunge and squat routine to make some room, imagine my delight when that wasn’t necessary.

Small win.

I’m really beginning to apply this philosophy across the board, and why not! It makes complete sense. Its inspiring. It keeps you in the game.

Let’s be shamelessly timely and ask ourselves to examine Doc Rivers’s philosophy with his team. He always talks about playing one game at a time, about not worrying over winning the Championship, but rather just succeeding every time you get out on the court. Even if you don’t win the game, you can learn from it.

Small wins.

I mean, that’s basic stuff here guys!

And its so important to recognize this because its so easy to lose sight of the philosophy behind that quote-from-that-song-that–was-cool-when-I-was-like-15: life’s a journey, not a destination. And if you watch Glee, than this is really timely for you.

If I think about the Championship, if I focus only on “what I want it to be” and not on “how I’m going to get it to what I want it to be”, I might not win a single game, and might not even make it to the Championship, let alone win it.

So, the moral of my story here today is this: every non-failure is a small win. Think about that, and apply it.


Get I get an “Amen”?