OK, so maybe I’m not quite there, but I am back at it!
Back at what? Whittling away my waistline. I’d like my girlish figure back, thank you very much.
You say you’ve already gone on this road with me and what do I think makes this time different? My road is ever bumpy and sometimes littered with obstacles that take me a bit of time to get over, but I never stop. Never give up. Never surrender, by Joe!
I like how I feel when I am doing well for my body. In turn, my spirit is more joyful. Those around me can dance and rejoice in that side effect of me eating well and working out regularly.
Anywho, today was day Four of Turbo Fire with Chalene Johnson. It kicks my ass and turned me into a grody, sweaty mess. I prefer it that way. It makes me feel like something was accomplished.
After today’s workout I immediately recorded an accountability video. I won’t do that everyday, but here and there I will as I complete this 90 day program. Before starting, I took before photos. EGADS! It was frightening how much I’d turned to mush in the past 6 months. Totally spewtastic. Talk about intense motivation! You won’t be seeing those for a long time. Sorry. Some vanity needs to be spared in the face of accountability. When there is remarkable change, I will post a side by side like I did a couple of years ago.
Until then, leave me a comment if you’re on a fitness/weight loss journey. Let’s do this thing together, eh?
The title. As I was finishing up making this week’s schedule a couple of weeks ago, I handed it to my general manager with the phrase, “very soon I am going to require time off.” As the words crossed my lips I felt a welling of emotion and tears. While my boss is 20 years younger than I, her face became concerned and instantly asked if I needed to talk.
I surely did.
First let me just say how age is simply a number and that is the purpose of me pointing out the gap between myself and my GM. Most certainly younger, it is best not to assume the younger person won’t understand.
With that explanation out of the way, we set forth to plan a few days off for the lab manager who has been running on all cylinders and some I didn’t even know I had since mid-January. I was considering time in May. She thought more immediate and, with my newly written schedule in hand, began altering it to suit my apparent need for respite.
Miraculously she made it happen. As if a veil of burden being removed from my being, the weight came off my shoulders. For the first time in months the air felt clear enough to truly breathe. The shift in attitude was likely confusing for anyone who’d witnessed my near break downs when one thing or another didn’t go as planned or a piece of equipment suddenly fails to operate.
Let us flash forward. Today is Sunday: Day two in five of freedom. Per my request, no one has texted or called from work. Gloooooorious. Friday night I stayed up very late (past midnight) catching up via Facebook with someone I knew in high school. Ah, the joys of social networking at its finest. Seriously. You make of it what you choose. After sipping a couple low carb margaritas amidst the chatting, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I was tired. We bid our goodnights and zzzzzzzzzzzz. And Zzzzzzz some more. I didn’t awaken until after 8AM. Rare for me to sleep in even if I’ve remained awake longer than 10:30PM. I’m weird. Sunlight peeks through the window and tells me to get my bum out of a cozy bed and get on with the day.
And you know, on my days off I do not mind having extra time to spend relaxing or whatever my heart desires.
My first day off was spent goofing off and catching up on favorite programs On Demand with Mancub. Then, the sense of ick began to take hold of me. The weather was quite disagreeable. Rain in the morning without thunder or lightning. A little sprinkle never killed anyone. With my new kicks on and layers to ward off the chilly breeze, I set off with a newly downloaded cardio tracker and cardio beats music app. An hour later I killed 400 calories and walked 3.2 miles.
Yeeeeeeeeee! It was amazing and head clearing. With each calorie burned I expelled negativity that had built up over the course of a few months. It’s not completely gone, but it is decreased. Mostly, my exercise comes in the form of workout dvds. Focus is solely on choreography and form. Walking is second nature. Aside from speed and force in stride, it gives the brain time to unload.
I want to go back to the music app for a moment. It’s sole purpose is providing BPM for walking/running. It allows choices from alternative rock to pop to open format, which is what I used Saturday. Fitradio for Android must’ve known me. It played crazy mash up mixes with ‘80s tunes as the base with over lays of current music. There were some kooky blends. The tempo was ideal and interesting to keep pushing me along.
One thing became abundantly obvious. I need to do it more often. With days getting longer and temperature warming, there is no excuse.
Here is a photo taken after the walk was complete. Using sepia and blindly shooting from under the dandelion, it gave a cool perspective.
Another shot, taken in a similar fashion, was tweaked using another groovy app on my Droid.
And a little more tweaking gives it a haunting appearance.
Earlier today, after receiving emails that comments were made on my blog only to see they were just spam jerk-offs, I checked out the posts attached to the emails. This action drove me to read entries dating back to 2009.
WOW! Is it pride or narcissism to say that I was impressed. At the moment of conception aka putting thought down on digital paper, one might question quality. Sure, I churned out some stinkers, but whilst playing blog roulette today, I found some gems buried amongst the gratuitous “buy me! follow me!” sort of posts. As mentioned in the post previous to this one, I got off track. Marissology became BUYBEACHBODYDAILY.
Today’s venture into blog entry’s past helped me tap into the girl who is Marissology. Some of those past posts serve as reminder that, while my pant size may have decreased, my socializing aka dating life hasn’t improved one iota. That is my own fault. Einstein is credited to saying that repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results is the definition of INSANITY. It’s either time to suit up with the straitjacket or make changes in how I go about altering my relationship status.
Everybody tells me that it will happen when I least expect it because that is how it happened to them. Between you and me, I don’t believe that bull malarky for one second. It makes for a good tale, though.
A song just popped into my head and I must share it. Then, I will resume my banter.
For what it’s worth, I do not consider myself desperate, seriously.
One of the blog posts that enticed me to pat myself on the back was in regards to the moniker single women my age are often saddled with thanks to misunderstanding: Cougars. Ick. You should go read it.
There have been times when I dream and have the ability to recall what occurred when awakened. If I don’t write about it quickly then the details are lost. Creative license can be assumed, but that wouldn’t be genuine, now would it? Another “ooh I think I just pulled a muscle reaching to pat my back” blog entry involved just a moment when a dream was shared. What’s funny is that the dream involved a man I know online, but now I can’t remember who! Memory is such a terrible thing to lose. So, if you’re so inclined to be amused by my nocturnal dallience, here’s the link a dink a do.
Often when I write in the manner from those posts, I need to be fired up or be completely clear of thought. What starts out as a blog about nothing turns into something, I feel, worthy of others enjoyment. With the instances where I am plain old pissed off, I attempt to tame my anger with hyperbole and humor. The wording is tweaked to be colorful. Because I find when I vent with a vengeance, it comes back to haunt me. At least if I’m fuming while channeling a sit-comesque character, we can all laugh about it later. Mostly.
Let us raise a glass to the re-christening of Marissology in her purest form. Here’s to getting back to basics and blogging as it was intended. Screw you SEO. This girl is in it for the therapy.
Forgive me readers for I have been slacker. It’s been God only knows how long ago since my last blog post. What started out in 2007 as therapy became more of a platform for me to make money, but that wasn’t really what Marissology aka Wildhair aka Mental Origami was created for, you see. Just so you know, I did NOT make money and become the newest Jennsylvania — Jen Lancaster. Again, most likely to be blamed on the fact that every-freakin-body has a blog and, undoubtedly, because I am a slacker. Exhausted helping the world see one hour at a time. There are days that I feel quite accomplished. Then, a machine breaks down and sense of defeat creeps in. I’m not a flippin’ idiot, but if it involves wires and electricity I am NOT in my wheel house of comfort.
Anywho, I did romanticize that my life of trial and error in raising a teenage son without support from his jackass dad would some how have broad appeal and magically I’d be rewarded with prizes and monetary adoration. Hey, I even toss in the freak show known as my dating life and search for a bra that will properly lift and support the gazongas. Yeah yeah, it goes back to being lost in a sea of blogs and lack of expertise (laziness) in making this blog pop out on search engines.
::insert laugh track::
The sole intent of this post is to vent and whine. The rules of this blog remain the same: My blog; my rules.
While I cannot declare that I hate every aspect of my job, after sixteen years, it feels as if the shelf life has expired. But what should come next? I’m 46 years old. Oh, of course every job has ups and downs. Sometimes it feels more downs than ups. It’s called work instead of fun for a reason. Then again, all over the web people are shouting out how they love what they do and blah blah ‘secret’ yada yada. I’ve been trying to pretend I loooooooove my job and know where I am is where I belong. Poppycock! When instinct tells you to walk in and just flip off the place as a whole whilst declaring a big f*ck you! one might want to reassess the definition of happiness.
That is not to suggest I dislike every one who works with me nor does it say that business is a giant vortex of suck. It isn’t. This is NOT about the corporation or people. It’s about me MEMEMEMEMEMEME!
Maybe all I need is a period of respite. You know, that little doo hicky some people take for a week or two. Uh, what’s the word? The Brits call it holiday. We ‘Mericans call it a V A C A T I O N! The problem is that in spite of my efforts to pull a team together that can manage without me for a week, it seems futile. Do I just go and let them fend for themselves? Force them to step up and handle whatever comes their way? That’s how I learned, after all. Damn the torpedoes? If they can’t pull their shit together then it’s tough nuggets? The downside to that theory is that if they fail, it will be my failure. I’ll get the “how could you take time off and not have suitable coverage?” Right? Blah. Rock and hard place, meet Marissa.
Now, on to the next vent of the morning. I pride myself on being somewhat emotionally stable in my world of singledom. Howevah! I miss companionship. I forget what it’s like to have someone look at me as if I’d hung the moon and vice versa. Sure, that dreamy crap may fade, but how terrific is it while it lasts? That’s a rhetorical question. I need to have my moment of lalaland romance. People on Facebook are constantly bitching about their significant others who don’t live up to their promises etc… Not everyone expresses such disenchantment, mind you. Some people actually LIKE the person they married or date. It’s possible that one day I could be one of those people. Oh, and while I’m on this subject, please don’t patronize me with the “when it is meant to be, it will be” m’kay? There are times when that advice is appropriate, but not when I’m on a rant-a-roni. With my current state of mind I may threaten to punch you in the face. Hey, it isn’t personal.
Did I mention that I am 46 and all that you have just read will later be blamed on jacked up hormonal balance? I won’t be able to deny it as once it is on the internet it NEVER leaves. This has all been quite therapeutic for me. Getting it all out helps. Admitting that I am merely human is quite cathartic. The ability to always rise above does not come easily every time.
The life I lead may look simple and easy for those of you on the outside. It ain’t easy to be me, but there’s no other way I know to be.
Good giggily goo! I’ve been absent from my own blog for so long that I almost forgot it existed. Major changes occurred at work which basically made it impossible for me to have much free time. Over time pay, which is usually unheard of, was granted given the situation. Today, Sunday March 4, is my first day off since February 20. Insanity, right? Who ever said that which does not kill you makes you stronger may have been a tad off the mark. It didn’t kill me nor can it be declared that this girl is exhausted, but not stronger. It did, however, prove that I am either a) an idiot or b) dedicated to my workplace and associates. Maybe it is a combination of both.
The week behind me brought in a total of 54 hours worked. That is including an all day meeting, but not the amount of hours on the road to get to that meeting. Four and a half hours in the car round trip if you’re wondering.
Anywho, I am not whining. The $$ will be nice (hoping).
All those hours leads to a tired as hell mom which is why there’s been a lack of writing. My brain drains the second my key goes into the ignition of my car. It would’ve been tremendously embarrassing if there had been unexpected drop by guests. My house is a disaster. Being that today is my only day off of the week I considered doing nothing more than slobbing it in my pajamas, sipping one form of liquid elixir or another while basking in cheesy movies on Netflix streaming. Interpret that as my own Mystery Science Theater 3000 marathon.
Instead, my stupid body and mind are stuck in over drive and I cleared out the spare bedroom of the piles of bags I’d prepared over a year ago to take to Goodwill. Seriously, I was afraid I would find a carcass of a wayward mouse. It looked like a mini hoarders episode waiting to happen. With Mancub having loaded the car with the five bags of donations, we set out with me sans make up. One glance at myself in the rear view mirror and it became abundantly apparent that I slept late complements of Benadryl. Scary!
Since we were out and about we headed to the grocery store. I did remember to get dressed. No pjs or slipper socks were worn. Still, I am grateful we didn’t run into anyone I knew. If any such known people saw me it is likely I wasn’t recognizable. Yes, without make up I look that different.
Once home with a trunk load of groceries, it became crystal clear the fridge hadn’t been cleaned out since the autumn leaves began falling to the ground. Yes, I am disgusting and lazy when it comes to certain chores. What was most surprising is nothing had grown moldy. The surprise entrees were nasty, all the same. My fridge is cleared of science projects. Plus, it isn’t tricking us into believing there is something worth eating in there.
I’d say that for my only day off in a couple of weeks, I didn’t take it too easy. Now I’m going to take it easy. Dinner can wait a little longer.
Soooo there you have it in a nutshell why this blog has been inactive.
I’m not the only single mom in the world who works non-stop at times. There are plenty of us hard working gals out there. Even in 2012 it seems not everyone can appreciate what role we play in raising the human race. Sad.
You know who you are and I dedicate these songs to you!
Yesterday presented a serious challenge for me as a lab manager. When promoted, I told them, prior to accepting the position, that I was NOT a mechanic. You see, short of complete rebuilds, we do our own maintenance and repairs on the equipment used in the lab. In our employ was a gentleman who could fix just about anything. He retired leaving me with my own resources.
Ugh.
Since he left the company in late December, nothing terribly challenging has presented itself. Light bulb replacement; calibrations; fluid refills. Nothing major. That is until a vital piece of equipment was displaying signs that a complete breakdown was imminent. Without this machine we are rendered useless and a lot of customers would be tremendously upset that we couldn’t deliver the product in a timely manner.
I admit that the part was ordered two weeks ago and that I had been procrastinating. But the noise given off from the machine was deafening.
Wearing my son’s cargo pants and a shirt I cared little about getting greasy, I reported to work two hours early after seeing the dentist (that’s for another post). Having spoken with a technician at our diagnostics office, I felt less than confident in pulling this repair off. However, nothing ventured; nothing gained!
Ugh.
I knew 3 massive bolts had to be loosened. The first one broke loose easily. Hooray! The second one not so much. WD-40 to the rescue. While that was seeping into the crevices and doing whatever the hell it does, I replaced a rubber collar that had a split in it. Of course, out of 16 hex-screws, the last one would NOT budge. Bloody hell!! With a little ingenuity, I made the part fit. Neener neener, stupid hex-screw!
Twenty minutes later I returned to the bolts I doused with WD-40. The second one budged with a little elbow grease. The third one was in a spot that didn’t allow me to create enough torque with the hex wrench and pry bar. Double ewww tee EFF!!! The flipping hex wrench kept flying off and dropping to the floor. Already positioned in a tight spot between the ginormous machine and the wall, I bashed my skull into the corner of our safety unit that holds the Health and Safety Manual and MSDS binders. Ironic, don’t ya think? With a window nearby that gives customers access to seeing and hearing what is going on in the lab, I attempted *cough* to be aware and not shout expletives. I may have failed miserably. At one point I saw stars and thought there would be a trickle of blood on my forehead. Yes, I nailed my noggin that hard. I was too angry to cry.
I kept lamenting loudly, “I AMSTARTINGTOFEELDEFEATED!” toward my co-lab tech. While she couldn’t help me physically, she did cheer me on with words of encouragement.
Various positions were attempted to break the bolt free from the housing. This included standing ONTOP of the machine, back on the floor but propping my left foot against the swing arm while, with all my strength, yanked on the makeshift lever. FAIL!
I must not go further without pointing out that I am right handed and my right arm has reduced strength due to tendonitis or some other sort of itis that induces pain and the inability to fully unbend the arm.
Finally, with a hammer in hand and the hex wrench in place, I used the claw and an edge of the bracket to pry it as if it was a nail in the wall. It worked.
I swear to you at that moment a choir of angels sang. Just the removal of the bolts took me about an hour and a half. That’s about how long I had hoped the entire process would take. Remaining was dismantling, replacement and reassembling. THEN, calibrating.
It was all downhill once the 27 pound part was pounded out with a rubber mallet and a lot of grunting, primal yelling etc… It was VERY therapeutic.
By 1:20 PM, the deed was done. My body was drained, but my confidence was soaring. While I do NOT ever want to have to do this again, the action of doing it leaves me feeling extremely empowered. It also puts a feather in my cap as a single woman. I’ve been the home carpenter, mover, spider killer, mouse trapper all while putting on make up, getting pedicures and wearing pink glitter lip gloss.
I DIDIT! In fact, an email was sent to my regional manager expressing just that. “I DIDIT! I DIDIT! I DIDITALLBYMYSELF!!!”
The beast above is what gave me such trouble. It’s a about a foot long and heavy as hell. Above it is the mallet which allowed me to make that cylinder my bitch.
And now, a musical dedication to my inner Super Woman. I’m standing on my own two feet! They say behind every great man is a great woman. Well, I stand with myself and my sisters who are doin’ for themselves!!
I make no apologies for my opinions and how certain people grate on my nerves. I’m sure the feeling would be mutual given the opportunity. And that makes me happy.
HAPPY2O12!!!! Here’s hoping the Mayans just had a kooky sense of humor rather than a foreboding knack for knowing the world’s end, eh?
This new year was started with me sleeping in. A rare thing. It could be due to staying up long enough to usher in 2012 watching the movie PAUL with my son. It was quite a feat since this week kicked my tuchus all over the place at work. BUSY barely describes it. You would’ve sworn we were giving away the store with the number of people crowding in our doors. Seriously, do NOT wait until the final week of the year to take advantage of your vision care benefits. Why do people do that? Do y’all suddenly get tweaked vision after Christmas? Just some food for thought from an exhausted lab manager.
My 17 year old is still snoozing and it’s nearly 10. Oh wait, that’s not unusual over Christmas break.
So, here comes the real reason I logged onto Marissology to present you with a new blog post. It’s a meme. In blogger’s terms, this is also known as a cop out, writer’s block jogger or simply an easy way to get a post up for readers to “enjoy.”
Thirty Questions
Thirty questions that require a single word answer. It’s tempting to prattle on and on — so unlike me — K.I.S.S. it no matter how tempting.
1. Where is your cell phone? Console
2. Describe your boyfriend/girlfriend? Nonexistent
3. Your hair? Espresso
4. Your mother? Gone
5. Your father? Passed
6. Your favourite item? Droid
7. Your dream last night? Void
8. Your favourite drink? water
9. Your dream car? Free
10. The room you are in? Living
11. Your ex? Assclown
12. Your fear? Abandonment
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? Living
14. Who did you hang out with last night? Mancub
15. What you’re not? Fakel
16. The last thing you did? Wrote
17. What are you wearing? Clothes
18. Your favourite book? Que?
19. The last thing you ate? Biscuit
20. Your life? Adventure
21. Your mood? Mellow
22. Your friends? Faboo
23. What are you thinking about right now? Future
The end of 2011, that is. With that in mind, I felt it completely appropriate to prepare and get a head start on the number one resolution year after year after year: Get fit. Oh, you might call it losing weight, but I prefer to look at it from a long term perspective. After all, what’s the point in changing your eating and exercise habits if you’re not going to keep at it?
The photo below is posted as full disclosure. I’m 5’10″ and even after a 32 pound weight loss (original loss was 40, but sedentary lifestyle due to injury, I gained back 8), I sill look bottom heavy and, as many may call it, quite fluffy. As a side note, on this day I was feeling quite fetching and thin. I look better from the side, as demonstrated in the second photo.
P90Xis my weapon of choice this time around.Yes, I have attempted it before, but then TurboFire came into my life and I got hooked on that. However, if you recall, dancing like a maniac at my niece’s wedding in September did quite a number on my left knee. After more than a month of laying off strenuous exercise, it became apparent that my body relied upon working out to keep the weight off. I gained a few pounds back as I hadn’t changed my eating sans exercise. EEP! It’s such a devil to lose, but in the blink of an eye it returns.
Egads!
TurboFire proved to be too much with all the twists and turns even though I’d been modifying. Scratching my head on what to do, I wondered if strengthening the knee would be the ticket. After a week of doing the P90X Lean plan, I am happy to report my knee feels incredibly better. No longer stiff and pained in the morning after a night of sleeping.
How excited am I? Ridiculously, I say! Plus, I feel stronger after just a week. It is a very empowering workout. When you see the informercials, I hope it isn’t a deterrent due to the obvious intensity of the program. It is. I won’t lie, but trainer Horton insists you modify and pause. “Do YOUR best and forget the rest” is his repeated mantra. That doesn’t mean slack off. Push it to the brink of failure. It’s a great feeling when you do more than you think possible in your mind. Instead of “I can’t do a push-up” I say, “I will try to do a push-up and tomorrow I will be stronger.” I focus on form instead of how many reps I can do.
To get me over the hump I imagine myself on video telling my story of success. Until that day when it is produced, I give you another success story of a mom who thought she was stuck with the body she’d been dealt after having three children.
