Hi, world.
I’ve been swirling in overtime for two weeks now, and there’s a huge relief that swelled inside me when I woke up on this Friday morning and realized two things: One, I slept well. Two, I’ve survived this week.
Survival, Darwin would tell you, is achieved only by the fittest. These days, I don’t particularly feel that’s a crowd I’ve been keeping up with. But I’m getting there!
Wednesday night was nice, my bosses got into a “Gee, Steff, you’re looking so hip these days!” round of compliments when I wore my cute new top that day. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: December 2008
Things I Said: Further Raided Tweets
Sadly, boys and girls, I’ve been working overtime. Six days last week. All 9+ hour days this week, plus physio, massage, and dentist appointments. Before the weekend. And don’t get me started about that.
So, I’m stretched thin. Obviously. The blog thus suffers.
Tonight’s posting, therefore, is the doesn’t-require-brainpower option of copying some of my Favrd/Favrotted Twitter comments of late for your chuckling pleasure.
Could be worse. I could just be boring the shit out of you with “Oh, woe is overtime. All that money, so little time” crap, but I have decency.
Besides, recycling is good for everybody. Without ado, then, a selection from the last week or so.
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- Ever wonder what kind of social pariah you’d be treated like if you worked as a salesperson on the Home Shopping Network?
As an effort to reduce the control commercialism has over me, I practice individuality by eating my red Smarties first.
- Tragically, kids, we’ve reached the saddest part of the morning: Steff needs to put on clothes. You may collectively sigh now.
I’ve played Jenga drunk way too often. Walking past unfinished skyscrapers unnerves me. Continue reading
Fat Girl No More: How I Lost 50 Pounds
Two piles of “fat” clothes sit in garbage bags by my front door, waiting to get donated, like the two bags I ditched last week. It’s the end of an era.
I’ve been buying clothes lately, the last two weeks. It’s been emotional hell. I’m about a size 15 now (down from 22/24), and that makes me almost too big for most “normal” stores, and too small for “fat girl” stores. It’s been a bit of a chore.
It’s been hard, because getting to know your body when it’s not your body anymore, well, it’s a journey. I decided my judgment was shit, ultimately, as I found myself shopping emotionally and not critically, so I made the choice that anything I bought I’d put on ice until I went to a half-dozen or more stores, and then I would Assess and decide then what should be kept of all my purchases.
Well, today was assessment day. Several shirts are going back, as well as a beautiful fire-red winter coat, because they’re all too large.
At last weigh-in, three or four weeks ago, I was down 50 pounds. I’ve probably not lost anything since, or not much, and don’t care, because I continue to improve and change my ways, my clothes keep getting looser, and that’s my REAL goal, not a “number”. The real weight I think I’m down, though, is probably closer to about 85 pounds over the last 5 or so years. It’s 50+ this year alone. Continue reading
Poor Little Scooter
We here in Vancouver live on the Wet Coast. This city literally is in a rainforest. There’s around 1,200 mm of rain a year. 45 inches for you Imperialists down south. With 10% of that rain falling in the summer months, you can imagine the fun that is the winter here in Vancouver. Wanna get wet? This is your town.
I, however, am Vancouver-born. That’s a pretty small percentage, true “locals”. Most folks around these parts are imports. Not me. I don’t do umbrellas. They’re for sissies. I even ride my scooter in downpours.
Like on Monday.
I had an appointment to get to as the weather worsened and worsened, torrents coming down, and figured, “Fuck it, I’ve been in worse.” I grabbed my reflective vest, something I never wear but felt strangely drawn to do, and headed.
I raced out past the airport, and was motoring it faster than I had when I worked out there, and was, despite the torrents, enjoying the new, powerful beast my scooter had become with its souped-up new 70cc kit, crankshaft, new seals, and essentially a rebuilt motor that was geared for performance and speed by my speed-geek mechanic.
While my mechanic’s all that, it would seem the civic engineers in Richmond are fucking morons. Turns out, the Number 2 Road Bridge is NOT designed for rain. Because, why would you take rain into consideration in a rainforest? I mean, how much can it really rain after all?
Enough to send veritable rivers — I’m talking nearly three inches deep — rushing down the CENTRE of the bridge deck. You know, where scooters ride?
Chug-chug-chug-chig-chocka-bonk-bog-bog-putt-putt-thud. Continue reading