One Day

I'm on holiday in Hawaii and I'm already properly sunburned.  I guess that's what happens when the best of "summer" comprises a few days in the 70s.  So, naturally I arrived in Hawaii albino white and primed for a nasty burn.  All it took was 9 holes of golf and now I have an awkward and painful splotches of redness on my arms and legs.  It hurts to sit.

For the last two days I've put myself on the sidelines and have spent them enjoying the best of American cable TV (Bravo, HGTV, and the Food Network--holla!) and reading.  This morning I picked up the book One Day and I didn't put it down until it was finished.  If you haven't read it yet, I strongly recommend it. Don't be discouraged by the fact that it will soon be a movie starring Anne Hathaway speaking in an awful Yorkshire accent, it's awesome.

The book follows the relationship between two people, Emma and Dexter, from their first meeting when they're 22 and then revisits them each year on the same day.  Sometimes they're together, sometimes apart.  Their relationship goes through ups and downs--friendship, love, fights--as they struggle with what life throws at them.  All through the book you see the incredible bond and love that is between them.  There was frustration when things were left unsaid, when lies were told and there was elation when things were out in the open, when things were going their way.  

And it takes them a long time to get to a good place: years go by before truths come out, feeling are unmasked.  In a way it seems like a lot of time is wasted when feelings were bubbling below the surface the whole time.  And the entire time I was reading the book I couldn't help but think about how much I could relate to Em and Dex. I suppose a lot of people must identify--the book is a smashing success and soon to be a Hollywood movie. But I can't help but wondering: am I like Em or Dex, wasting my time protecting myself from life? Should I be more honest?  With myself? With others?  When it it right to say how I feel and when should I keep my mouth shut?  

I guess these are questions we all grapple with.  I think I've been thinking about this a lot because I'm nearing 30 and having a 1/3 life crisis (hopefully--I plan to live a long long time). Am I preventing myself from really living? Am I shielding myself from happiness because I fear the pain? At one point in the book Em reflects that its too hard to live each day like its the last--too draining both physically and emotionally. But maybe I need to take a few more risks, at least with my heart. Maybe not today, when moving is still excruciatingly painful. But maybe one day... soon.

Agency

I’ve been thinking a lot about the degree of agency I have in my life.  How much do I make things happen versus how often do I passively accept things that “happen” to me?  

I got on this line of thinking after I found out that my work contract wasn’t going to be renewed.  It was time to look for a new job and I had a lot of decisions to make.  Did I want to get a corporate job?  Did I still want to do marketing or would I do something else?  Did I want to start my own business?  

In the end, a lead from a headhunter resulted in a job offer, which I am accepting.  The timing was perfect--it coincided exactly with when my old job was ending.  But in a way I wonder if it was too perfect.  Because this job (which I am very excited about) landed on my lap, I never really had to make the tough decision.  

And that’s when I realised that I don’t really make tough decisions.  I certainly set myself up for things to happen--someone had to contact that headhunter in the first place, for example--but generally I go with the flow.  I’ve always just accepted events as fate: if something didn’t work out it was not meant to be, or the opposite.  

I wonder where I got this mindset.  Am I just a passive person?  I know I’m not particularly ambitious--my goals are less around status and more around lifestyle.  I want certain things for myself but achieving them hasn’t come at the cost of other people or opportunities.  For example, I wanted to live in London and I figured that graduate school was the best way to make the transition.  So I applied to a program and was accepted.  Choosing to enroll was a no-brainer.  

I think things are different when it comes to my career.  If I think about it in terms of my performance in organisations, any time I’ve tried to push for a promotion or job opportunity the results haven’t been so great for me.  Part of that could have been company culture, however.  In general, my work philosophy has become more laid-back.  If I keep my head down, work hard, achieve results, and get along with people good things should come.  If they don’t, I should move companies.  

That said, there is also a case for some active work on my part regarding my career direction.  I’ve been pushing to move into marketing ever since graduate school.  My first role out of school wasn’t in marketing, but my new role is.  In part I think that was because I was patient and persevered.  So, in theory I shouldn’t be feeling completely like a mindless drone.

I guess the next area of examination for me is with relationships.  I remember the first time I asked a boy out.  In ninth grade I liked a boy named Dan Carlson and I passed him a note in World History class telling him I liked him.  He pretended like he never saw the note and ignored me.  AWKWARD.  I’ve tried expressing my feelings to guys a few more times since then, but I’ve always been rejected.  

Now I am quite gun-shy.  I take a much more passive role when it comes to expressing interest.  I really do expect men to take the lead in asking me out.  Unfortunately I’m very bad at giving them encouragement.  I can barely make eye contact with men when I first meet them and I’m horrible at flirting with men that I actually fancy.  I know this is a bit of a recurring theme with me (see Winter Winds post), but I’m clearly having trouble working through it.  My brain knows what to do, but I can’t seem to put it into action!

So, what’s the resolution?  I think that I’m less passive than I think I am.  I don’t have to make many “tough” decisions probably because the decisions I make don’t seem tough to me, even though they might be under other circumstances.  But I do need to take more control in areas where I’m feeling unhappy.  Right now, that’s the love life.  Speed dating anyone?

Memoirs

Right now I’m retired.  I left my job the other week and I have a month off before my next job begins.  My plan is for self improvement:  exercise, museums, reading, generally taking care of myself.  I know I’ve been very bad about the blogging lately.  The anxiety of not having a job really held me back.  I kind of lost my sense of humor for a while and I didn’t have the energy to write.  But now that I’m in the clear I’m feeling good about getting back into things.  And I have grand ambitions.  

So, the other week I went to Texas to celebrate my grandfather’s 90th birthday.  Now, that’s a milestone!  Luckily for me, my family has good genes.  My grandmother is 87 and, apart from poor hearing, is healthy as a horse.  On the other side of the family, my grandfather died at 94 and my grandmother in her late 80s.  I had two great-grandmothers make it into their 90s.  Unless I get hit by a bus I should live a long time.

Anyways, my mother has been pestering my grandpa about writing his memoirs.  This has been exacerbated by the fact that his eyesight is failing so he’s been doing oral histories.  During one of his stories he mentioned that people should start their memoirs earlier as it gets harder and harder to remember details.  

This has started me thinking that I should begin writing my memoirs.  The other night I couldn’t sleep so I gave this even more thought.  How would I organize my memoirs--would I go chronologically or would it be thematic?  Would I offer my thoughts and opinions on things or stick to recounting stories mainly as they happened?  Would I talk about sex?

That last one got me stumped.  It made me realize that I need to consider my audience.  I guess I figured it would be my kids and grandkids reading the memoirs someday... unless of course I become wildly famous, at which point people of all kinds will be clamoring to read my life story.  But, since I don’t even have so much as a boyfriend right now and I’m pushing 30, the frightening thought is that I might never have kids or grandkids, that there will be no one to read my memoirs.  

Fuck it, I’m going to do it anyways, just for myself.  A while back I found my old journal, which I kept when I was in middle school.  Most of my entries were about my first boyfriend, Justin.  They were things like “When I look at the moon I think that Justin is seeing it too so even though we’re apart we’re together” and “When I hear Mariah Carey’s song Can’t Live if Living is Without You I think of Justin and how he dedicated that song to me at the school dance” and “I think Catherine is trying to flirt with Justin, I better keep an eye on that.”  Really sappy stuff for the most part and very funny to re-read.  

So, my memoirs are going to be my retirement project.  As will blogging.  Facing unemployment I had to force myself to think about what I want to do with my life.  I considered dropping everything and becoming a barista or a cheese packager.  Because let’s face it, a lot of my life revolves around food.  It’s something I care about.  But I’ve always been afraid that doing something food-related for a job would have bad outcomes for me: 1)  I’d get fat and 2) turning something I love into my job would somehow kill my love and leave me bitter and despondent, an empty husk of a person (though possibly skinny after turning from food in favor of drugs).  So, I’m going to try to focus this blog on food--stories about my relationship with food, both good and warped, etc.  I probably won’t write just about food--I can’t help where inspiration strikes--but I have a feeling that food will be a strong theme running through this blog (like it sort of is already).  

Beam Me Up, Scotty

A friend and I like to joke that we are obese people in slim bodies.  Of course, mine wasn’t always very slim and the possibility that I could get fat again is very real.  The mindset about food hasn’t changed, but I’m working on managing it and my behaviour. 

In my support group the other week we talked about our struggles with maintaining a healthy weight.  Many of us articulated this idea of freedom—we want to be able to live without being afraid of food, afraid of ourselves around food.  For me, freedom would be choosing the healthy option on the menu and not feeling like I’m missing out on something better.  Freedom would also involve being able to eat a bit of something I love and not being tempted to devour the lot.

I fetishise food.  My equivalent of porn is reading cookbooks and restaurant menus.  Today I was browsing the menu of Marcus Wareing’s restaurant at the Berkeley and practically had an orgasm when I reached suckling pig.  Right now I’m fantasizing about a champagne dinner at Kettner’s.

One of the main reasons I fetishise feed is because, for some reason, I think food is scarce.  I’m not one to blame my parents for my issues, but I do wonder if it is in part because I’ve been on some diet or other since I was a small child.  Anyways, this mindset has a whole host of repercussions.  I can’t stand the idea of food going bad.  It’s very hard for me to throw food away.  I’d rather eat even if I’m not hungry than see something spoil.  And above all else, I DO NOT SHARE FOOD.  If I’m in a food-sharing situation, like tapas, I’m greedily watching how much other people eat while at the same time berating myself if I think I’ve taken more than my fair share.  It’s not a pleasant situation.

I’ve been trying to work on this crooked thinking—this all or nothing mentality that if I don’t eat something, it’ll never be available to me ever again.  It’s tough work.  I get fixated on the thought of eating something, and it’s very hard to get it out of my head.  The past few weeks have been especially tough.  I’m currently working a contract job and it’s ending at the end of the month.  It can’t come too soon.  I’m so incredibly bored with what I’m doing.  I dread going in to work every day, wondering how I’m possibly going to fill the time.  Because if I’m not busy, guess what I’m thinking about.  I’m not going to lie—the boredom has definitely led to some snacking.  I’m trying not to have any cash to prevent myself from buying treats.  It’s exhausting.

My fantasy is that, after I’ve lead a full life, I’m going to let myself get fat.  In fact, I’m going to enjoy my golden years by growing morbidly obese.  The plan is that eventually I will develop a fatal case of sleep apnea.  What a way to go.  Then I’ll be cut out of my house and ejected into space where worms and flames can’t get me.  I have the funny image in my head of the obese 90-year-old me crashing into the window of a space shuttle, the astronauts trying to get me off by flipping the windshield wipers.

This and That

So, this is likely to be a bit of a hodge-podge of a post.  I wanted to provide an update on the vegetarian diet and stuff, but also wanted to post on some fun, cheap stuff going on in London.

First, the diet.  I’ve settled into being mostly vegetarian, with the occasional piece of seafood.  I actually haven’t found it that difficult.  I can’t say I miss meat all that much.  Its only annoying when I’m going out to eat and I want to find something veggie that doesn’t have too many carbs!  It seems like vegetarian options usually involve rice, bread, or pasta... how annoying!  Hence the fish.  Its a healthy option, and its not like I’m going “vegetarian” for ethical reasons.  I guess this makes me pescatarian? 

Anyways, the low carb, low fat, mostly veggie diet has been working!  Since I’ve gone back to my support group I’ve been weighed on a weekly basis and I’ve lost 2 kg!  Yay!  I’m already feeling so much better about my body, its amazing.  Which is good, because the weather has been amazing.

This weekend was pretty chill for me, but I had a really good time being outdoors in the sunshine.  This is London, when its sunny you have to take advantage of it.  First off, I saw a Banksy!  He recently painted on a wall near the BT Tower, and luckily the art has been preserved with plexiglass (as opposed to being painted over) so we can all enjoy it!  Its on the corners of Cleveland and Clipstone Streets in Fitzrovia.  

On Saturday I went to the South Bank Centre.  They’ve set up a beach along the Thames Path there, so you can have a seat by the river and stick your feet in the sand:

Pardon my vein-y feet.  Photo colors are a bit off, blame the iPhone.

They also have a bunch of bars set up.  Dishoom, an Indian street food restaurant, has set up a pop-up bar there that serves drinks, kulfi (Indian ice cream), and street food snacks.  There is a really cute garden on the top of Queen Elizabeth Hall and they’ve set up a bar there, too.  Then there are the regular bars, like the one at Royal Festival Hall and in front of the BFI.  The area was packed and its a great place to enjoy the sun.

Today I took an 8km walk that was fantastic.  I love walking, especially in London on a nice day.  I walk everywhere if I have the time--most days I walk about 5km from Euston Station to my home near London Bridge.  If I’m going anywhere in Central London--Covent Garden, Soho, Oxford Street, or even the Kensington area (South Ken or Kings Road), I’ll walk.  I happened to be at a friend’s in Earl’s Court today and decided to take a walk home that took advantage of some of London’s parks.  So here’s some of the highlights of the route:

1) Hyde Park
2) Green Park
3) Buckingham Palace
4) St James Park
5) Parliament and Big Ben
6) Westminster Bridge
7) London Eye!
8) Leake St (go here to see the latest graffiti)

Watching Paint Dry

So, I know I haven’t posted anything in awhile.  I actually wonder if anyone’s still reading.  I know that I typically drop reading blogs when the updates become more infrequent.  

Anyways, the cause of my reticence is twofold:

1)  Things have been plain boring lately.  That’s not to say that I haven’t been doing stuff, but is has been fairly routine.  If you were to ask me what I’ve been up to, I’d be at a loss to say more than “the usual.”  Even my dreams are boring!  I usually don’t remember my dreams, but lately I’ve woken up in the middle of them and I remember two:  one about being late for something and one about my fingernails.  Yes, I dreamt about my nails.  Who knows!  Maybe the other nights I’m dreaming about paint drying.  What an exciting life I lead.

2)  I’ve been busy at work.  This is a good thing for the most part... idle hands and all that.  But I was using my downtime to think and sometimes to write for my blog.  So, that time has gone out the window.  And by the time I get home/go to the gym/have dinner its after 9 PM and I don’t really have the energy to share my wisdom with you, my lovely audience.  Thanks for reading, Mom!


Anyways, I do have something to write about today.  As part of my plan to take my life back--ok, that’s an exaggeration... As part of my plan to get my weight under control I started going back to Lighter Life meetings.  Lighter Life is the program that I used to lose my weight over a year ago.  The meetings are weekly and I guess they’re like Weight Watchers meetings or whatever.  But I like going.  Donna, my counselor, is so amazing:  she’s warm and super caring.  We often talk about the psychology of overeating, coping strategies, and nutrition--all of which I find very useful.

In today’s meeting we were talking about having a plan for losing and maintaining weight--what resources, skills, support do we need?  My big thing is that I need to make weight holding into a lifestyle.  And that’s when it dawned on me:  my previous method for maintaining my weight--rigorous calorie counting--was not an effective lifestyle.  It was a way to live, but it was miserable.

When I was calorie counting I took planning to an extreme.  I planned my calorie intake for the entire day, often the night before.  And I also planned my exercise.  There was no room for flexibility.  And it made those times that I did veer off the plan--dinner out, a day when I didn’t go to the gym--into treats.  And these things shouldn’t be treats.  Eating should be about nourishing your body.  It should be tasty and enjoyable.  But its not a treat.  Exercise should be part of an active lifestyle--being lazy on the couch shouldn’t be a treat either.  If I wanted a treat, it should have been something else.  

Anyways, I’ve mentioned before that the eating and weight problems started again when I was feeling sorry for myself when stranded at Christmas.  I was sad, so I treated myself.  With the wrong things.  And that made me fatter, which made me sad, which caused me to treat myself to get that psychological boost.  It was a vicious cycle.  In the words of Fat Bastard:  “I eat because I’m unhappy and I’m unhappy because I eat.”

So, I think that I need to develop a plan that is more flexible so I don't start fetishising food and laziness again.  I need a plan that isn’t about calorie counting.  One where I don’t have to plan everything out in advance.  One that can be easily accommodated in restaurants.  Hence the vegetarianism.  

And I’m going to find new treats.  Not sure what they’ll be, but it seems that my nails are on my mind, so maybe a manicure is a good place to start.

Winter Winds

There’s this song by Mumford and Sons called “Winter Winds” that has really struck a chord with me.  The song is about reconciling head and heart--in this case the head wants love, but the heart doesn’t follow.  Its pretty melancholy but offers hope that spring will heal all wounds with new love.

But that’s not what struck me this evening as I was listening to the song on my walk home.  Its the second verse:

We'll be washed and buried one day my girl

And the time we were given will be left for the world

The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague

So let the memories be good for those who stay

It really reminds me that we’re only on this Earth for a short time, and we need to live life to the fullest.  I shouldn't be embarrassed to put myself out there.  My time will come to an end, so why should I waste one second of it?  

This isn’t a new thought.  I’ve really started to feel this way in the past year when it comes to relationships.  For a while I dated this guy Jacob and I really tried to live by the “life is too short to waste time” mantra.  It was revelatory.  I didn’t play games.  I told him what I wanted.  I felt liberated.  

Prior to that I’d also decided not to waste time with a guy I was interested in and I told him that I liked him.  Sadly he didn’t return the feelings, but I felt good that I had resolution and that I wasn’t wasting time hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen.

Flash forward to the last few months.  That guy who rejected me mentioned that he didn’t remember the conversation we had!  The context of the conversation was about how we should date and I said something along the lines of “you rejected me” and he was like “you never told me you liked me.”  Unfortunately the tone wasn’t serious, so I don’t know how much truth there was to what he said.  While I’m not holding out for him, I still like him a great deal and am curious as to where things could lead.  But now I’m scared!  He rejected me once... I’d feel like a fool to get rejected again because I misinterpreted things.  

I have to say, I’m a bit disappointed in myself.  I’ve let my old habits creep back in.  I’ve let embarrassment and self-preservation instinct hold me back.  I haven’t been as direct as I’d want.  I’m not “taking the bull by the horns.”  

So, I’ve been listening to “Winter Winds” on repeat trying to figure things out.  I don’t have any answers yet.  But the song helps me think.  If you haven’t heard it, its a beautiful song.