Friday, October 14, 2011


There's this meme going around right now where people talk so you can judge their accents. At first I was all "oh hell no" but then I watched a couple and was shocked by how wrong these people are. People that I know and love, but wrong! I decided it was my job to correct them.  

Things I've learned watching this: I do this thing with my bottom lip that is weird. I tend to look up a lot. I don't have the patience to record this more than once. 

Welcome to my underwater fish den:

Tech types: I can't upload this to youtube because the site doesn't support this type of file. Anyone want to convert it for me?

Thursday, October 13, 2011

and so it goes

Lately I've been feeling kind of like this:

Mouth open, eyes glazed, covered in food

It seems I am experiencing some sort of funk and I'm dealing with it by cramming whatever food is within arm's reach right into my mouth and crying. Basically I cry because I feel out of control and after doing that for a bit I am so upset that I end up cramming food in without thought. This mindless eating makes me feel even more fat and out of control which leads to more tears. It is lovely at my house.

I've found that working out helps keep me in check so I've been throwing myself at any physical activity that crosses my path including boot camps, bar method classes, and running. The problem is that the only time I have for these is 5:45am and this week I've managed to sleep through my alarm every damn day. So when I wake not only am I frazzled because I've got to get Truman dressed and out the door at lightening speed, but I'm also pissed at myself for missing my chance to control the crazy for the day. And when I'm pissed at myself I ease the pain by devouring almost a whole box of these:

salted mallomar

That would be a mallomar heated so the chocolate melts and then sprinkled with sea salt. I've never loved and hated something so much all at the same time. 

I'm not mentioning this to get people worried about me, in fact I'm mentioning it so people know I'm fine. There's been a few times recently where I've mentioned crying uncontrollably (over a water cooler that Truman broke! The way I cried you would have thought he robbed a bank) and I think I might have worried people a bit. Really, I'm doing okay. Once we move Pippa out of our room I'll feel comfortable setting the alarm clock far enough away that I won't be able to sleep through it and I'll start working out with more regularity. I honestly think that's going to be the key to this. Sweat the fat off and curb the mindless emotional eating. I'm going to reclaim myself one carrot stick at a time.