100 Day Journey

So I've been reading this book about being a mother, being successful and getting your life on track. One of the things the book promotes is developing a 100 Day Plan. I am a sucker for life strategies and the secret and Tony Robbins and all that bullcrap. And so of course I LOVE the 100 Day Plan.

So rather than making a list of 32 Things I Want to Accomplish Before 32, the book recommends I take 3 goals to accomplish in the next 100 days. I then work backwards until I can identify three things to do on a daily basis to accomplish my 3 goals.

Tomorrow is my Day 1.

One of my goals was to lose 50 pounds. That's right 50! That is baby weight and then some. In order to start tomorrow out right, I cleaned out my fridge and bought food that I'd have time to eat (the baby still doesn't afford me a lot of time to make meals). I had one last unhealthy meal. And now I am announcing to the world that recess is over - it's time for me to GET BACK ON TRACK!

I'll keep you posted.

Find My Way

When I lived in LA, I stumbled upon a hip hop dance class at my gym (Bally's Hollywood). It was AWESOME. I LOVED it! Every Friday night at 7:30pm I ventured into the class, which was filled with some professional dancers (I mean, it was the Hollywood Bally's) and some regular folks like me (and one old woman who wore a leg brace and seemed content to just move around in a circle while we did our routine). We worked on a piece of the routine every Friday night and eventually put something together. We danced to B2K's "Can You Handle It" and Mr. Cheeks' "Lights, Camera, Action (Remix)". I wasn't the best dancer (and thanks to the old lady I wasn't the worst), but I had the BEST time every Friday night in the class. I still remember some parts of the routine, 7 years later . . . and I was SOOOO disappointed when Dartanion (the instructor) stopped teaching the class and it switched to salsa.

Now, it's 2009 and I stumbled upon another hip hop dance class at my gym! I went for the first time tonight and it was AWESOME. Now, it's a new routine every night and we dance to different songs but it is a GREAT way to burn calories, work up a sweat and just have a good time! I am so excited. Vernon (the instructor) is a lot of fun and again, I'm not the best (I might be the worst but I'm not sure) but I am excited to be doing something fun for physical activity again. When exercise is fun, I'm all about it!

I just hope I do not go in one day and find that Vernon has left and that Friday nights are now for Iyengar Yoga or something else trendy at my gym . . .

Sunday I'm trying bellydancing!

GOAL!

When you're embarking on a weight-loss journey and you speak with one of these "experts" (who range from a nutritionist to a personal trainer to someone who has just lost 50 lbs) they will almost always tell you to have a goal.

Historically, I have tried to set goals. Lose 20 lbs by my 30th birthday. Fit into that black dress by Kelley's party. Get some definition in my arms for my sister's wedding. Needless to say, this has not been a successful method for me.

However, I am going to try again. I just decided I would fly down to LA in about 8 weeks. In addition to seeing my family, I decided I would see some friends I hadn't seen in a while . . . last time I saw them, pregnancy was not even a thought in my mind. And now post-baby, I am suddenly motivated to make this my goal.

While I am not quite physically ready to jump on the treadmill or lift some weights (besides the whole childbirth recovery process and exhaustion, I'm on medication that requires I be careful physically for fear of internal bleeding), I am suddenly excited that I have a new goal. And I figure it might be better to have something that is smaller and more meaningful than just "lose the baby weight."

It's pretty simple - I just want to fit, comfortably, back into my pre-pregnancy jeans. All of them. I put some on last night and they were NOT comfortable. They hurt. I'm back to the "I Can't Fit My Pants" status that I was when I first started this blog.

So, while I wait for the baby to sleep more at night (he becomes quite the party animal around 3am), my stitches to heal, my blood to clot normally so I can touch things without bruising, and the weather to warm up a little (seriously, snow in the Bay Area?), I am getting ready to get accomplish my goal!

Pray for me . . . for real . . .

Bjornin' Around

Today I tried out the Baby Bjorn. Yesterday, I spent some time, in between naps, adjusting it to myself and then I tried my baby in it for about 15 minutes. He seemed to enjoy it. So we ventured out today to the bank to get some quarters for the laundry.

He loved the Bjorn! Fell asleep immediately. I was excited. For me, it was a little bit of a struggle. I don't think I had it positioned quite well on my back and so it was kind of painful (even now, several hours later). I also was paranoid that I would somehow get the one defective Bjorn in North America and it would collapse and he would fall out. I was so paranoid that I kept my arms around it while we walked - which might've defeated the purpose of the Bjorn, but made me feel better. Perhaps eventually I will get over it . . .

Anyways, I was quite proud of myself. I got some good physical activity (we walked about 2 miles), he got some sunlight (as well as a good nap). I also noticed that we got a lot of smiles from strangers as well as little kids who craned their necks to get a look at the baby.

Killed 3 birds with one Bjorn today . . .

Heidi Klum is the Devil

The supermodel Heidi Klum had a baby 6 weeks ago. And last night she was featured at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show looking like she had never given birth and strutting around in lingerie. Headlines from magazines scream at me, reveling in her 6 week weight loss. Heidi says that all she did was use the resistance ball and eat right. Or some bullshit like that.

Heidi Klum is a b*tch. Heidi Klum is ruining EVERYTHING.

All the pregnancy books say, "Relax - it took 9 months to put it on, it'll take 9 months to take it off." But now we have Heidi Klum running around, bragging about how it took her a month and half. How can I live up to that standard?

Damn you, Heidi.

Today's Adventure

This morning I discovered I absolutely had to run to the drugstore and I couldn't wait for my daily relief person to come relieve me so I can run personal errands (or take a nap). I decided I'd just have to take the baby with me.

So I go to get his carseat together and I discover that I cannot release the carseat from the stroller (I have one of those travel system things). Then I cannot find the instruction manual for the carseat to direct me on how to separate it. Meanwhile I have a baby who cannot stand to not be held and I'm trying to figure out the model number of the damn carseat while it's stuck in the stroller, hold my baby so he doesn't scream, and search the Graco website for some online instructions. Of course the Graco website tells me the model number is underneath the damn carseat. Of course. This helps me little as the damn thing is stuck in the stroller . . .

I wanted to cry. I might have a little.

Finally, the baby gave me 5 minutes and chilled in his Boppy and I managed to get the carseat out, figure out how to appropriately strap him in and get us both ready for our first non-Kaiser trip.

And since I am in the middle of OBW (Operation Baby Weight), I decided to walk to the drugstore instead of driving. I fed, diapered and burped the baby, and put him in his now cooperative carseat. He cried for a few minutes then relaxed and off we went.

Not only did I get some cardio, but I got some resistance training in (I live at the top of a hill and pushing a stroller/carseat and baby up a hill is not the easiest thing)! The baby woke up briefly when we made it home, but otherwise he was well-behaved.

I like him already . . . such a team player . . .

Operation Baby Weight Commences

Since I got pregnant in the middle of my HEALTHY LIVING JOURNEY launch, I decided that I would focus on going back to work looking BETTER than I did when I left. This might not be that hard as I was pretty round and pregnant when I left. Nonetheless, it's a goal I'm rather excited about . . . so of course, now I deal with the dilemma of how to knock out that baby weight - and maybe some pre-baby weight too.

Luckily, I didn't gain too much weight while pregnant - I'm within the norm though I certainly am limited to a few pairs of pants . . .

About 4 years, ago, I was talking to one of my sorhority sisters who had just had a baby. She told me, "I don't understand how women don't lose their baby weight quickly. You don't have any time to eat!" Of course, she was the mother of 3 little boys, so I suspected that her ability to bounce back from pregnancy might be easier than a new mother like say, me . . .

However, I'm a week into this whole thing and I totally get what she was saying. Perhaps this motherhood thing is actually GOOD for my diet! I mean yeah you gain all this weight while you're pregnant, but there are several factors that work in your favor. Here is my list so far:

1. Breastfeeding - burns a WHOLE LOTTA calories! Plus, I still can't go hard on the wine.

2. A Demanding Baby - you can't really grab an eclair at 10pm or make some french fries when your baby needs to be changed, fed and held every couple hours. And considering how heavy the damn car seat is, I only go out if I absolutely must. So long quick runs to Bakesale Betty's on a Wednesday afternoon.

3. Irregular Sleeping Patterns - because my baby tends to be most active between the hours of 2-7am, my days/nights are totally messed up. I forget that it's breakfast, lunch or dinner time and I'm strictly eating for sustenance rather than out of routine. That's when I remember to eat.

There are some things that work against your diet dreams though . . . that lack of sleep I hear is bad for your metabolism. And I know it's better to eat a healthy diet than a skimpy one consisting of a slice of wheat bread and some crackers . . . so I'm not necessarily promoting the "New Mother Diet" per se . . . well, so far I'm not. If it works of course, it works . . .

Back on the Highway

So, I'm happy to say that I've ended one journey - and I'm back on track with my original one.

Last Tuesday, Nov. 24 at 10:34 am, we welcomed my first baby boy into the world. So far, it's going well, considering how tired and worn out I am. Dare I say, I might be getting used to it though?? He's a pretty cool baby, not too fussy and so far he's getting good reports. I have never been as scared and nervous in my life (including times when I was about to perform or interview or speak in front of a large audience) as I am with my baby. Whoever made up that saying "sleep when your baby sleeps" didn't take into account how paranoid first time mothers are . . . because we ARE. But after 6 nights of little or no sleep, I think I might actually try to rest when the baby rests - which between 2-6am seems to be very little. Let's see how it goes tonight . . .

Meanwhile, this means that in the midst of trying to raise a kid in this crazy world, I have to go back to trying to being healthy!! 2009 was a CRAZY year. I mean, I spent the majority of it gestating a human being. And now it looks like 2010 will be a very challenging year too. Well, hell the rest of my life is going to be challenging. So as soon as my stitches heal and my perineum is good to go, I'm back on my journey. Stay tuned . . . I predict that Operation Eliminate the Baby Weight will be probably even more of a struggle than my regular struggles with Healthy Living . . .

Walk it Out

So I have this sorhority sister who always rides the bumper of the car in front of her. I don't understand why she does it (I haven't been in the car with her for over 10 years so she may not do it anymore). But about 10 years ago, she used to and I HATED rholling with her; she was a rear-ending-waiting-to-happen.

After living in LA for 2 years and now as a long distance commuter, I have observed a lot of driving habits. I'm not sure what to call the people that drive real close to the car in front of them - tailgaters maybe? - but what I have noticed is that the behavior on the road often reflects behavior in real life. Yes, there are Tailgater/Bumper Rider/Rear-Ending-Waiting-to-Happen pedestrians.

I realized this today as I was (for the last time) exiting the train in Sacramento, amidst the many other commuters. Normally, like them I'm eager to get off the train and walk to my office building. But not today. See, I'm 36 weeks pregnant; I am heavy and slow. Every movement is an effort. Apparently this was problematic to my fellow commuters - particularly the ones that exited the train behind me. Unlike me, they were in a hurry to get to work (or to the Starbucks located in the train station). So a few of them thought if they walked right on my heels or huffed and puffed and hemmed and hawed behind me perhaps I would speed up. It didn't happen.

So here's my PSA for pedestrians: a very pregnant woman is not going to speed up. No matter how much you clear your throat or how close you get behind me. It's just not happening. So either go around me or make your peace with it.

Please, Please Stop

I am all "adviced" out.

I mean it. If I hear another person tell me what I should buy or do or say, I am going to SCREAM. I mean it. I am almost 9 months pregnant. I'm huge. I'm uncomfortable. It should go without saying that I have a very short fuse. Very, very short. Almost nonexistent.

And ironically, the people who give me the most advice? Women with no children.

Not that these women's words aren't valid. That's like saying that a single woman cannot give relationship advice. I don't believe that - often you're more objective about relationships when you're not in one. But I really don't need to hear from another broad whose experience with children is relegated to her sister/best friend/cousin. Especially at this stage of my pregnancy. I want to wear a shirt that says "Frankie Says Relax" or "I'm Not an Idiot. I Think I Can Figure it Out."

I think it is telling that women with children don't really give unsolicited advice. Now don't get me wrong - you get them started on something like breastfeeding or childcare or labor and they will go on and on. But I notice they don't say much unless you ask them. I am quite sure they understand first hand how not only annoying it can be for a pregnant woman, who is deluged with hundreds of different thoughts a day, to constantly received advice. I think women with children also know that every baby is different. And what worked for your sister Trish or your cousin Rita or your friend Tamika may not work for the next person (me).

I am 31. I have a Master's degree. I have a Blackberry and access to the Internet, Barnes & Noble and Kaiser. I have books. And most importantly I have a brain. For the love of all things holy, stop telling me I don't need pants for the baby. Stop suggesting I pick a certain type of sling. And please stop telling me I should get an epidural. I can figure out these things on my own. And you know what? I would really like to figure them out on my own.

To a certain extent I brought this on myself. I asked a lot of questions in the beginning. I made no secret that I wasn't an expert and that I hadn't been preparing for motherhood since I got my period. But damn - do I have "clueless" written on my forehead?

Look, I'll be able to figure it out. And if I don't know what to do, you know where I'll go for some advice? Google.

Gossip Girl

I've written before about the level of attention one gets when she is pregnant - it's mostly positive, but occasionally someone says something that is pretty offensive/annoying. There's another peculiar form of attention and I think it's best described as "judgement."

Human beings - maybe just Americans, actually - are very judgemental and enjoy gossip and voyeurism. I think it makes us feel better about our lives to judge others. Don't believe me? Look at the debate on health care. The majority of criticisms are based on fallacies. Complete lies. I mean "death panels" had no basis in reality - yet people took it and ran with it. Easier to hear something from someone else and believe it than to do any research for yourself.

I accepted this fact a long time ago. I always thought it was stupid when my friends wanted to fight another girl who was "talking about them." I mean, so what? It's what people do - they gossip. Fighting someone is not going to stop it.

However, for the last couple of years, as I've gone through some tough times that were not exactly private, I've recognized that gossip can be harmful and that people do act on their judgements - even if they have no base in reality. This is particularly bad in the workplace - where I've seen a lot of it as I've gotten older. I am not used to being the subject of other's judgement or commentary. But now that I'm with child, I sure get a lot of questions and comments I never got before. No one at work (or even in my family) cared if I had a significant other, what my living situation was or if I planned to continue working in Sacramento. I mean, I don't think anyone even asked me about my personal life unless I volunteered it. And most times, I don't. So it is strange to me that I am getting all these questions from people I barely know.

My mom would say that I'm being paranoid and that it's polite curiosity and you shouldn't overreact. I have interpreted it as judgement. And I don't like it.

However it's been a lesson for me. My interest in engaging in gossip fests at work has really evaporated. I mean, I wouldn't like to be the subject of people's comments and judgements and I refuse to give it an audience. After all, if you're not listening to someone they won't talk.

This doesn't mean I won't continue to pick up an occasional "Us" magazine or listen to the Celebrity Grapevine on the radio every morning at 8:30 am. That's okay - it's not like I KNOW those people . . .

We vs. Me

I am not quite sure how to broach this topic, and I don't really have a moral, I just perhaps wanted to share an "Aha" moment (yes, I watch Oprah) that I had recently.

It is very difficult when you're pregnant - and I'm thinking perhaps when you're a new mother too - to not think of you and the baby as "we."

I mean you're carrying this life inside you for 9 months and you're constantly told that anything YOU do affects the baby. So naturally this sense of 2 becoming 1 arises . . . however, once the baby is born, I think sometimes this thinking can become problematic.

I hear this from celebrities (and frankly some friends of mine that as I'm becoming a mother, I've lost a little respect for) who complain about the outrageously high child support their ex-wives or baby mamas want. They complain that while they will take care of their child, they are NOT interested in taking care of their ex/baby mama. I'm not quite sure where to draw the line - after all, if the mother doesn't have money to pay the rent, then the child doesn't have a place to stay - but I've heard it a lot. It also makes me mad because these men don't have the responsibility of caring for the child EVERY DAY and they're not willing to consider that a fair exchange for having the freedom to not have the day to day responsibilities might be giving up some of their money . . . but that's another story.

I realized the other day that I was thinking of me and my unborn child as a "we" the other day - and well, it was unnecessary. The problem that I was having didn't have anything to do with the baby or his well-being. It was related to me and my comfort - and it was something that had I not been pregnant, I wouldn't have even thought to ask another person for. As a home owner, I am sometimes annoyed by the fact that I have to do things for myself that I would otherwise call the building manager for. For example, the sink stopper was broken. Pre-pregnancy, I probably would've called Tony the Plumber (who is not the cheapest, but extremely reliable and efficient). Instead, I thought someone would fix it for me for free and on my timeline. Why? Because I was pregnant.

Although I am not judging single mothers or even married women who demand things from their child's fathers or husbands, I have to admit I don't especially want to become someone who is reliant on another person to the point that they can't do anything for themselves. Rather than passive-aggressively complaining about the sink (and assuming that someone was a plumber), I realized recently that I should just take care of it by myself. After all, it didn't have a whole lot to do with the baby - he wouldn't be using it anytime soon. I'm pregnant - I'm not helpless.

Constant Cravings

In addition to the questions about your due date, your baby's gender, whether this is your first or fourteenth child, usually someone will ask you if you have had any strange cravings during your pregnancy.

Until a few hours ago, I would usually say no. For maybe the first 4-5 months, I was really not into food. I probably ate less than I used to because my stomach was queasy all the time and the smell of almost everything made me sick.

Yet there was one category of food that never made me sick during my pregnancy. Even when I had no idea what to buy in the grocery store, there was one staple that always made it into my cart.

Dessert.

Yes, I have realized that now I LIVE for dessert. I mean I've always loved chocolate and would rarely turn down some some pudding or custard if I had the room in my budget or stomach for it. But in pre-pregnancy days, it wasn't a deal-breaker.

Now? Man, now I could eat some doughnuts for dinner and be happy - probably happier than if I had filet mignon. I could eat a chocolate cake for 3 days in a row and feel super. The first thing I look for when I'm hungry is dessert. My coworkers from Sacramento drove down to Oakland to visit me about a month ago. "Do you need anything?" they asked. "A berry pie," I told them. They thought I was kidding. However, I seriously wanted that damn berry pie.

Right now I am obsessing over whether or not it's cool for me to get some frozen yogurt or an eclair. I haven't even eaten dinner yet. And I have no desire for dinner - I want dessert. I really just want a powdered doughnut. Or a coffee cake. Or something with a cream cheese filling.

It just occurred to me tonight that perhaps this is a problem. Perhaps one I will deal with though, after I get the frozen yogurt.

Race and Pregnancy?

Since I was about 11 years old, I have been acutely aware that I fit a certain profile according to my gender, race and age. Actually the full awareness didn't come until I was maybe 21. Here's a timeline of my racial profiling incidents:

Age 11/12 - My older sister and I are in a music store in the mall, browsing. As we leave, the store security guard approaches us, accuses my sister of theft and asks her to empty her pockets. I am confused for many reasons - mainly though that how anyone could possibly steal from the music store considering these were the days that CDs came in the huge boxes and tapes had those large plastic things covering them. My sister did not have a large bag or big coat on - where exactly was she going to put the stolen merchandise? It wouldn't fit in her pocket. After the security guard gets embarrassed and apologizes because he too has realized it's almost impossible for her to have stolen anything, my sister is very upset and starts crying. I didn't automatically think it happened because we were among the few Black teenagers in the mall, but that experience stuck with me for a while . . .

Age 16/17 - My high school boyfriend and I go to the local grocery store one night to make copies. These were the days before Kinko's where the only places to use a copy machine are the school, the library and the local Safeway. We're in the back of the store making copies for school, when we are approached by the store manager. He asks us if we know anything about a wallet being stolen from a woman in the store. We are confused - huh? We haven't been anywhere in the store besides the copy machine - how we would know about anyone's wallet getting stolen? The manager proceeds to stare at us for a few minutes asking "Are you sure you don't know anything?" It doesn't really cross his mind that if we had been involved in the wallet stealing perhaps we wouldn't be sitting in the back of the store using the copy machine afterwards . . . my boyfriend "gets it" way before I do. The manager eventually walks away. I sit there confused for a few minutes before my boyfriend explains that we're two Black teenagers in the grocery store. Someone's wallet was stolen. Naturally if we didn't do it, we probably know who did. This experience really sticks with me and reminds me of what happened several years before at the music store with my sister . . .

So when I leave for college a year later, in lily white La Jolla, I am very careful to not put myself in a position where ANYONE can accuse me of stealing. I make sure to take my pockets out of my jacket when I enter a store. I catch the eye of the clerks and smile so that I am not perceived as threatening. And I try to ALWAYS buy something - because everyone knows that young Black people don't browse - they "case."

Age 21 - I am in Washington, DC on an internship. I am doing a research paper on welfare to work programs in the District of Columbia as part of my internship project. I head to the main welfare office of DC to get some information on their programs. I have a very difficult time getting anyone to talk to me when I ask for some general info on DC's program. They are pretty rude. Finally, one of the staff asks me straight out, "Young lady, are you here to apply for public assistance?" I am wondering why she thinks I would be there applying for public assistance - haven't I told them I'm doing some research? Then, later as I am working on my paper I realize that except for not having any children, I fit the profile of almost 90% of welfare recipients in DC - I am a Black female in my early 20s. They didn't even listen to me when I told them I was doing research - they dismissed me and assumed I was yet another pathetic young mother who needed some help from the government. It was a really horrible feeling - especially because I realized that there are a lot of women who are treated rudely by the system that is supposed to help them.

For the past 10 years, I have been very aware that I may think of myself as Jam Rockah, everyone I come in contact with doesn't necessarily think of me as an individual. They think of me as a Black woman, and to some that's not necessarily a good thing. If I disagree with them, they think I'm hostile. They assume I can sing. They attempt to appeal to me by snapping their fingers, rolling their neck or using the term "Girl" - no matter that I RARELY do these things. I have come to accept this as we are a nation of stereotypes and frankly, I'm past the point in my life where I feel like educating everybody about the diversity of Black people. I just try to do me and hopefully shatter some stereotypes . . .

For the first time in my life - except maybe when I was a kid - I feel like I am in a more favorable category - the pregnant woman category. And it seems that most people like us. Yesterday I go into the drugstore of a nice part of town and everyone is smiling at me. EVERYONE. From the elderly to the young, from men to women and all races. It put me off at first. Then I started to like it. I realize that has been happening a lot lately. Niceness from strangers. They suddenly talk to me in line to ask me what I'm having or how I'm feeling. IT IS AWESOME. Oh, I know it won't last, but I have to admit it is sure nice to not feel like I have to be on my guard all the time . . .

Sweet Dreams

In 8th grade I had a friend named Virginia. We used to talk on the phone all the time (that was what you did in middle school, in the early 90s, before text messaging, MySpace and Miley Cyrus). Virginia had a crush on this guy named Marvin. She used to have very intricate dreams, some of them including Marvin, and we used to talk for HOURS, trying to interpret the dreams and whether or not they meant she and Marvin were destined for one another.

I hated having these conversations with Virginia. Her dreams were really abstract and long and I just had no idea on how to analyze them. Furthermore, I never could understand how Virginia remembered her dreams in so much detail. I have never had that gift; occasionally I will remember a memorable or disturbing dream, and share it with someone. But I try not to subject my girlfriends to hour-long phone conversations about my dreams - I don't know anyone who has a BA in Dream Interpretation . . .

For the last 4 months though, I have had some VERY vivid dreams. Last night, I had a very interesting dream. I was a cop, my partner was Will Smith, and we were trying to bring down a gang of rogue cops in our precinct. In fact, it was so vivid, I was disappointed when the alarm clock went off - I still don't know if I was able to out the dirty cops.

I consulted one of my pregnancy books this morning as I heard that vivid dreams are a part of pregnancy. Surprisingly, "What to Expect When You Are Expecting" didn't have any mentions of dreams that involved dirty cops or Will Smith. My dream really didn't fall into any of the categories mentioned in the book (categories included "Oops! dreams" and "Life with baby dreams" among others). The book said that the vivid dreams you have are your way of working out your worries and fears about motherhood in a nonthreatening way.

I have no idea what my dream meant, but I welcome any comments.

I should totally look up Virginia on Facebook . . . I am assuming almost 20 years later that she is over the dream analysis stuff.

When Your Feet Swell Up, You Are Always the Last to Know

For about a month I was feeling pretty good about my appearance. The doctor said I hadn't gained too much weight and I had a belly that popped out but didn't look like too much . . .

So that has changed. In just a week. A combination of things happened that have made me feel self-conscious again. Let me add them up for you:

• 3 strangers (all women past 40 mind you) all commented that either the baby looked big or I was carrying twins
• My doctor told me the total amount of weight I have gained
• I saw recent pictures of myself
• My friend and my doctor both commented that my feet looked swollen

This all equates to me feeling like a whale on legs. Now, it's not that I THRIVE on compliments or anything, but it is nice to get a once over from a man on the street or even a honking of a horn when I cross the street. When you're 7 months pregnant, those seem to decrease a bit. This does not mean I don't want the phony "It's okay that you look fat, you're pregnant!" backwards compliments. They are not compliments. And I'm not writing this as a means to seek more - I just am perhaps acknowledging that maybe I may not escape the puffy face look of other pregnant women that I have dreaded . . .

And I've got over 2 more months to go . . . crap . . .

5 Things Not to Do Around Pregnant Women

Except for maybe my sister, I usually am very uncomfortable around pregnant women. I usually smile and say "Look at you!" and walk away. I sooooo have not wanted to get into conversations with people about diapers and varicose veins - I mean I just usually have nothing to bring to the conversation.

So as to ease the discomfort of some of my friends and any potential strangers that may be reading this, I have decided to throw people like me (well, pre-pregnancy me) a bone.

5 Things NOT to Do Around Pregnant Woman

5. Don't Touch My Belly: I can honestly say that there were only 2 people out of the many that have touched me over the last few months that I actually didn't mind. But everyone else, stop touching my stomach. I didn't like it when I wasn't pregnant, I don't like it now. It is also rather cheeky to assume that just because something is sticking out, it's okay to be touched. I mean, no one goes around rubbing women's boobs or butts (at least outside of the club) - why is it okay to rub my expanding uterus?? Please just stop. Plus, it's not like the baby is a circus animal and he's just going to start doing tricks because you've touched my belly. He's his own person - he sleeps, he chills and he doesn't exactly give me advance notice when he plans on vigorously kicking me . . . so more than likely you are not going to feel anything when you touch me. Except maybe my annoyance and a strong desire to get away from you.

4. Don't Feel Compelled to Talk About My Pregnancy: Look, I'm pretty big. You and I both know I am preggers. You don't have to say anything about it. In fact, when it comes to someone like me who is on a first name basis with the folks at Kaiser, I don't especially want to talk about it all the time - I live it. It's around me 24/7. I get absolutely no break from it. In fact, if you'd like to talk about the latest reality TV show or your latest date, I'm all about that.

3. Don't Share Any Pregnancy/Delivery Horror Stories: My level of paranoia is pretty high these days - with reason. So I do not need to hear how your auntie's-best friend's-daughter's-neighbor ended up having triplets when they only saw 1 baby on the ultrasound or how she had 50 hours of labor. Actually nobody wants to hear stories like that so please keep your urban myths to yourself.

2. Don't Provide Any Commentary on the Name of My Unborn Child: OMG, I could really do a whole blog entry on this, because this is my #1 annoyance these days. Look, if I wanted YOUR opinion on a name, I would have asked for it. Jam Rockah has no problem asking others for their opinion. But we spent several MONTHS thinking about what names we like and we chose something that we like and has significance. And frankly YOUR opinion does not matter. In fact if I ask you if you like the name, I'm really just trying to be polite because I don't care if you do and the name I have chosen for MY child has absolutely no relevance in YOUR life. I cannot believe how rude some people are when they issue opinions on name choices. I feel that as long as my name choice does not have an apostrophe or more than one capital letter in it, or does not come from a Disney movie, it's okay. And for the love of all things holy, stop suggesting YOUR name as my baby's name . . . sheesh.

1. Don't Comment that Me or the Baby Look Big: Look, NO ONE wants to hear they're looking as huge as they feel. Okay, maybe some skinny anorexic model is running around talking about how she REVELS in her newfound roundness (bitch). But this is not me and I think I represent about 85% of pregnant women on this issue. So please save your "Wow, that looks like a big baby!" or "You're so much bigger than 7 months . . ." or "You sure you only got one in there?" comments to yourself. They're not funny and you're a jerk. I am most sensitive about this one because in just this week alone, I got these three separate comments. And unless you have OB/GYN after your name, I would say that your observations about my size are pretty asinine.

This is not to say that you can't say or do anything around us . . . I will provide some recommendations on my next entry on what you can do . . .

Market Crash

Since I'm slated to go back to work in 3 weeks, I've been slowly increasing my activity so that I can easily rejoin mainstream society . . . this means driving myself to the doctor, taking short trips to the ATM and attending some events that don't involve a lot of walking or standing.

Tonight, I tried by far the biggest activity I have done since before my surgery in July - I went to the grocery store.

Two words: NEVER AGAIN

Nothing big happened or anything, but man does grocery store shopping SUCK when you have not been on your feet for too long in 6 weeks. Add to that the fact that my back hurts because of the load I'm carrying in the front. On top of the fact that Mondays are among the worst days to grocery shop so I was trying to maneuver around carts and too many people - and I'm not the most flexible these days . . .

And then there's this peculiar sensation that everyone was looking at me. And not in the "Her Hair is Awesome" or "That Outfit is Hot" way. I mean, in the "Dang, she's pregnant" or "That looks uncomfortable" way. I'm 7 months into my pregnancy and I am not used to that. Remember, I haven't regularly been around people in 6 weeks. So I have not become accustomed to the stares (or gawks really). In fact, I'm still a little shocked when I wake up in the morning and catch my profile in the bathroom mirror. Part of my discomfort at the grocery store was not just physical but mental.

Lesson learned. No more grocery trips for me.

Let's be HONEST

Okay, I am quite sure that the List of Things I Vow to Not Do Upon Entering Motherhood will be a long list, and will probably be impossible to actually sit down and write in one setting. But there's one that I have to get off my chest, first and foremost . . .

One of the primary things I am vowing to not do is send out to the masses delivery room pictures. Sure we'll take them and treasure them, and they'll go to family and whomever wants to see them, but I'm just going to be honest when I tell you that delivery room pictures freak me out. The mother always looks exhausted and the baby looks weird. These of course are natural things - after all I hear it is exhausting and your baby does not come out look like it's about to be in a Gerber ad. Even though my arrival is coming around the holidays, I will not be sending out Xmas cards featuring me, him, and his dad all smiles, with the hospital bed and IV cords in the background.

Babies all look the same when they're born. Let's be honest. And it takes a couple months before you can really see what (and who) they're going to look like. With the exception of my niece, I have never seen a newborn baby resemble anyone except, well, a little old man. Like every mother, I plan on showing off my kid. I'm fairly confident, given the gene combination, he'll be a nice looking baby. However, I prefer to arrange his first cover shots when he isn't wrinkled, red, and with a misshapen head from the trip down the birth canal.

So maybe you'll get a New Year's card from me . . .

When Life Gives You Lemons . . .

Okay, I am about to make a comment that : pregnancy is good for your diet.

Let me explain: everyone's experience is different, don't get me wrong. And you're supposed to gain weight and bust out of your clothes - this is the only time you get a pass for being unable to buckle your seat belt. I don't mean because now that you're responsible for another being, all of the sudden you start eating healthy. I mean suddenly those foods that you loved suddenly no longer have a hold over you. In fact, food no longer has a hold over you.

Now granted, I have not seen any pictures of myself (and I AVOID the camera like I'm on America's Most Wanted), so I could look like a cow. I certainly feel like one. But on the other hand, I don't think (and neither does the doctor) that I have gained too, too much weight. And considering the amount of time I am sedentary (not by choice!) that is a surprise.

There are two things that are happening that are preventing my rapid weight gain: my nose and my appetite.

I feel like a damn Bloodhound these days. I smell smells that no one else smells, that never bothered me before. They get stuck in my throat and I cannot even think about food. For example, there's a restaurant in downtown Oakland (it shall remain nameless) that I have frequented a couple times. For some reason, the smell in there just makes me SICK. It doesn't stink, at least not in the traditional sense, but I CANNOT stand the smell. And so I'm just not as hungry.

And then there's the lingering morning sickness. It's not as bad as it was for the first 4 MONTHS, but sometimes it comes in waves. And my stomach says, "You are not putting anything in me, I don't THINK so." So I just don't feel like eating. At the same time, it conspires against me sometimes. For example, for about a week all I have wanted to eat was berry pie. I think I told everyone that I was lusting for some berry pie in hopes they would feel pity and bring me something. I could have eaten berry pie all day (I actually did one day, when someone was nice enough to bring some berry cobbler). Prior to that I was obsessing over an Orange Julius. I even tried making one in my blender (didn't work out). And I almost cried when, after a quick web search, I saw the nearest Orange Julius was in Hayward at the mall. Damn bed rest.

In the end it balances out - the hate of a certain unhealthy restaurant and the love of berry pie have worked out so that I haven't gained too much weight, I don't have gestational diabetes and I didn't have any new cavities at my last dentist visit.

So besides the whole bringing new life into the world benefit of pregnancy, perhaps the choke hold that food has held over me for the last 20 years will loosen up too.

As my friend Jesse says (for no other reason than it sounds cool), "Take that, Sasha Fierce!"

Able was I ere I saw Elba

Yes, folks, that's right, like Napoleon I am EXILED. Not to Elba, just to my house.

About a month ago, I found out that there was some funneling in my cervix and the doctor recommended a cerclage be inserted. The result of that was that I was to be on bed rest for at least 4 weeks - maybe more. Today marks the 1 month anniversary of the cerclage surgery and my exile.

Medically, things have actually been going well. Except for the fact that my lower body is pretty sore from sitting around most of the day, I feel fine. I think the effect of bedrest (or as I call it EXILE) is more mental. With that, I present my lists of the bed and worst parts of being on Exile.

Top 5 WORST Things About Being on Bedrest

5. Inability to push a vacuum: I hate when my carpets look dirty

4. Lack of privacy: Being able to buy, um, personal items at the store is really difficult when you have to ask your mom or your significant other to pick them up.

3. Declining social skills: I'm not around people regularly, so I wonder if I am losing my ability to be the life of the party. Now, I'm not positive I was the life of the party before this, but now I know I'm not . . .

2. Addiction to Facebook: As sad as it is, the main window I have into the world outside my apartment is really Facebook. How I long for people to tell me, via their status updates, what they're doing, what the world is like . . .

1. Disappointment in TV: Normally I am a HUGE TV watcher. Even though I read and am mildly social, I have always enjoyed television. And TV in the summer sucks. There are a few shows that stand out, but for the most part, a girl can only watch reruns of "Seinfeld" and "King of Queens" so much. It is sad because I have always been able to rely on TV to distract me and cheer me up. But now, I seem to be more annoyed by it. And I find myself actually enjoying the most ridiculous reality TV shows (OMG, "Megan Wants a Millionaire"?) . . . so, so sad.

On the other hand, there are some upsides of being down. . . .

The Top 5 BEST Things About Bedrest

5. Inability to vacuum: okay, I hate it when they're dirty, but at least it doesn't reflect on my character or my potential to be a good wife.

4. Telecommuting: When I did my monthly budget, I was amazed at how much money I had saved in gas and other expenses by not commuting to work. I guess Suze Orman is right - eating out really does cost you!

3. The Internet: It is amazing how much stuff there is out there on the 'Net!

2. License to be grouchy: Hey, you try being trapped in your house during the summer. I don't think anyone is looking at me sideways when I'm a bit snarky. And if they are, well, that's pretty selfish considering they have their freedom!

1. Food: By far the best part - that is when people bring me some. I'm not supposed to be on my feet or doing major cooking. So if anyone asks "Is there anything I can do?" I can easily tell them "How bout bringing me some food?" Now that is AWESOME.

I'm making the best of the situation, I think. Despite a couple of grouchy moments, I think for the most part I'm being positive and trying to enjoy my last few months without many demands. My EXILE may get longer, or may end. But as long as I'm here, I at least can try to entertain you with my blog . . .

It Ain't Where You're At, It's Where You're Going

Okay, so I have taken a break from writing in my blog here. Not because I've had writer's block or have given up the journey. But mainly because over the last few months my goals have sort of changed. Oh, I still am trying to be healthy. It's just I'm no longer in control over my, ahem, weight gain or work outs. I'm hoping everyone can read between the lines.

However, this experience, much like the dieting/exercise experience has been FULL of things that make me want to write. To express myself! I have just been a bit uncomfortable with the whole world knowing about this change of events. The general reaction to it has varied between that general happiness that so many women feel about such news (and yes, it seems that women are a lot more into it than men) to overall shock. "You Jamila? You are the LAST person who I thought . . . " Hell, I am the last person I thought that would be taking this path. I believe in my "31 Things to Do Before 31 List" did not include anything like this. But, sometimes life throws you curveballs. Now Lord knows I have had enough major curveballs over the last few years to last a LIFETIME. Shoot, I welcome the dull, the boring, and the routine. However, I guess God has another plan for me that once again does not involve any control whatsoever over my destiny. C'est la vie!

But I digress. It's now a different journey. And I promise not to be corny about it (because, let's face it, except for maybe Jenny McCarthy, so many women are downright CORNY at this stage in their lives). But I have so many things I just need to express about it. From the fact that I seem to be experiencing every single bad side effect (I just thank God I don't have hemorrhoids) to the extreme annoyance that I feel now that people are touching my belly (seriously, it is really annoying).

So the journey is the same - it's just the destination is different (or maybe I have that backwards). But I hope that I'm still able to find some sort of outlet for the many challenges, stresses, and anxieties that this situation has created. Oh, and I hope I'm entertaining too.

Summer, Summer, Summertime

Summer is a good time for living healthy. The weather is warm, so that helps with encouraging me to get outside and get some exercise. And summertime fruit is the BEST! Watermelon, cherries - wide varieties of some of my favorite fruits.

However, there is one aspect of summer that just makes it really hard to try and diet. One word (acronym really): BBQ.

I'm not talking about barbecue in a restaurant. I'm talking about those cookouts and BBQs that you go to, that usually start around Memorial Day and go through Labor Day.

Oh how I love them. I love the smell. I love what seems to be an endless supply of food. I love the paper plates. I love the obligatory DJ or boombox tuned to KBLX.

However, there is no nutrition label on a hot link fresh off the grill. Or ribs. Or even that potato salad that someone made. And there's something about being at a BBQ that makes you overeat - mainly because you can justify it. For example:
1. You're there all day (so you're eating lunch and dinner).
2. You're getting your Cupid Shuffle or Cha Cha Slide on (so you're getting a workout).
3. Plus, it shouldn't go to waste . . .

So while I stock up on fruit and get my iPod ready for a nice walk (two steps forward), I am recognizing that I am probably going to get 2 plates at the next BBQ (two steps back). Oh well.

Chicken Little

Okay, I totally slipped and had some fast food recently. I don't feel that bad about it because I don't do it regularly but I will cop to it. However, my guilt isn't what I want to share about the experience . . .

So I walk in and there's this older white guy standing in front of the cash register. I ask him if he's in line. He shouts, "No, I already ordered. They're telling me I have to wait 15 minutes for some chicken."

I look behind the cash register and see a whole lotta chicken up there. I figured he must have ordered something special. So I ask what he ordered, so I don't order the same thing. He shouts again, "I just ordered some chicken! And they're telling me it's going to take 15 minutes! What the hell is that!"

At this point, one of the women behind the cash registers decides she has had enough of Old Man Chicken. "You know, sir, you don't have to be rude about it!"

This only eggs him on. "I shouldn't have to wait 15 minutes for my chicken! I just want my chicken. You need to have the chicken ready. This is dinner time, you all need to be prepared."

Another person behind the register interrupts him. "Look it's busy! We have a lot of orders!"

"That doesn't matter," says Old Man who is now actively gesturing and approaching the counter, "It doesn't take 15 minutes for some chicken!"

I of course am feeling a little guilty. Did my harmless question about his order poke the bear? Have I incited this riot?

The cashiers and the Old Man proceed to go back and forth for another minute or so, until the manager comes out. I wonder to myself where she has been this whole time as they have all been engaged in a rather loud argument. She appears scared.

Again the Old Man lodges his complaint: he does NOT want to wait 15 minutes for chicken.

The manager offers him his money back. He takes it, but proceeds to let the manager and the entire staff know that he is "going over their heads with this." He tells them he hopes they all get fired. They don't seem too concerned.

I guess the lesson I got from this experience is that not only are fast food restaurants bad for your diet, they're really bad in general.

Oh, and don't EVER make an old man wait 15 minutes for chicken.

You Are Where You Eat

I have realized that one of the most powerful weapons against tempting foods is the nasty environments that often accompany them. Here are some places that have decent, but unhealthy, food that I will never go to again because the environment made me sick:

1. The Chicken and Waffles Place (Jack London Square, Oakland): So I've been here 3 times - the first 2 were okay, I had some good food. I think the name "chicken and waffles" automatically implies it didn't have a lot of healthy options so I don't think I have to go into detail on the food. Anyways, so the third time I'm there, we sit in a dirty booth, and it's the middle of the day so the daylight is shining brightly on the faded tapestries and questionable stains on our table. And the food just reflected this - everything just looked and tasted, well gross and unclean. I can never go there again and thinking about it makes me sick. I'm all about supporting Black-owned businesses but I think that it's better for my diet if I don't go there.

2. Taco Bell (Telegraph/West Grand, Oakland): One night I go, order my favorite (Mexican pizza) and bring it home, very excited. I eat Mexican pizza in layers - the first layer on top of the shell which is cheese and tomatoes, then the first layer of shell, then the meat and beans layer, and then the bottom shell. I have been doing this since I was a kid. Well this particular night, as I am eating my first layer, I notice a hair. Now, I'm not initially shocked because if you know anything about me, my hair sheds a lot all the time, and I find it everywhere. But this wasn't my hair. How do I know? Because it was BAKED into the cheese mixture. It had been there a while and thus could NOT be mine. I am disgusted and throw it away (and the $5 I used to pay for it). This particularly Taco Bell and I parted ways after that. I'm not going to lie and say I haven't been there since, but it took about a year and I've only been there maybe 5 times at the most over the last 4 years (and at least 2 of those times I was with other people who wanted to eat there because it was the only place open past 3am).

3. Ahn's Burger (West Grand/Bellevue, Oakland): Now this one is recent. I love their greasy hamburgers, thick milkshakes and crinkled fries. But I have always gotten it to go. I go with my friend recently and we eat inside the restaurant. Big mistake. I saw things I hadn't seen before - such as the area where they keep the money is right next to the grill. I'm no Safety Inspector (anymore) but that doesn't seem hygienic. I see little washing of hands. The whole thing just was unappetizing. I haven't been back since and I have lost my desire for the cheeseburger.

4. Whole Foods (Oakland): So the one time I eat here was the one day all the cleaning people seemed to have the day off. The only table available is available because someone has clearly spilled something sticky and pink on the floor underneath it. I have to scrounge for some napkins to clean off the nasty table. Whole Paycheck is expensive, but the money you spend there clearly doesn't go to cleaning up the dining area.

Now, it is NOT a bad thing these places are off my radar - except for Whole Foods, they were all unhealthy. And Whole Foods is expensive so it'll save me money to not eat there again. I'll miss walking down the street to get a burger or the strawberry lemonade at the Chicken and Waffles place. But no meal is worth hair in your cheese or something sticking to your leg. It's just not.

Lessons from Lieutenant Dan

Last Monday I got some bad news. And I took it pretty hard.

In fact I was angry. I was angry at God. And I totally had a moment like Lt. Dan in "Forrest Gump."

So, Lt. Dan has become disillusioned. He lives his life expecting to die on the battlefield like all his ancestors before him. However, instead of dying in the Vietnam Way, Lt. Dan loses his legs and is confined to a wheelchair. Instead of being happy he is even alive, Lt. Dan gets depressed and down. Forrest tries to pick his spirits up and invites him on his fishing boat, but Lt. Dan is still just despondent. And it doesn't help that Forrest's boat doesn't catch any fish. However, one night it storms and Lt. Dan has it out with God. He climbs to the top of the boat's mass and says, "Okay, it's you and me, God! You and me!"

I had it out with God last Monday night. I was just so angry and disappointed and frustrated. And I sat on the floor of my bathroom expressing those feelings out loud. I was honest and maybe said some things that I shouldn't have said. But me and God were having it out.

After Lt. Dan has it out with God during the storm, the boat suddenly starts catching fish and Lt. Dan is happier, more hopeful.

Tuesday afternoon, I got more hopeful news. And I immediately knew it had something to do with what happened on the floor of the bathroom on Monday night.

I'm not saying life is perfect now - it wasn't for Lt. Dan. After all, he still couldn't walk. But sometimes just the presence of hope is sooooo meaningful. Just being able to hang onto a sliver of something is great. But most importantly, it's meaningful to have evidence that when everyone else writes you off - including medical professionals or other experts with letters after their name - God has a degree and a level of knowledge that supersedes all that. You just gotta have faith.

And maybe sometimes you have to "have it out" and be honest with yourself about your faith (or in my case, the lack thereof) in order to get to a place where you can feel comfortable with just believing.

What, No Parade?

I stepped on the scale this afternoon. I'm down another pound.

I have lost a total of 12 pounds.

And I don't think anyone noticed.

Not that I expected balloons or confetti to fall down from the sky - my initial goal is 20 lbs. so I haven't hit my goal. But dammit, I'm 8 lbs. away!

Can a sister get a high five? A pat on the back? I'll take a terrorist fist bump!

This reminds me of a Chris Rock joke. In one of his comedy specials, he talks about men who take care of their children and how they want accolades for it. Chris says, "That's what you supposed to do! Take care of your kids, pay child support. What you want a cookie?!?"

I'm not necessarily doing this for the fanfare - it's for me. But man, sometimes recognition feels good. Until then, I'm assuming that the scale is the only one that is happy - because now when I get on it, I don't want to kick it.

The Trigger

Life is really funny.
I had a bit of a break from my healthy living journey. I didn't start drinking soda or eating french fries. But I had another moment where something made me feel sad and my first reaction was, "F*** my diet and exercising today."
I think they call this a "trigger."
I have recognized that it is one subject category that really affects me. Like it can either make me really, really sad or it can make me really, really scared. Either way, when I'm in it, I do not think about trying to live healthy. I am super distracted.
I am not sure what to do about my trigger. But I do feel good about recognizing that I have one.

Decisions, Decisions

Last night I had a grown up moment. A breakthrough.

I found out a few days ago that some friends from across the country would be in Vegas this week. They invited me to come hang out with them, stay for free with them in their suite. I waffled a minute and then checked flights - some good deals available. I was 5 seconds away from clicking the "purchase" button on the Southwest.com website.

But I paused. Something didn't feel right.

Could I swing the trip financially? Sure. Take a little from here and there. Would it be better to put that money towards eliminating my debt, upgrading my house or fixing my car? YES.

It's not that I'm never spontaneous. In fact, all 2008 my focus was on doing things that made me happy since I had been an unhappy person. I went on trips, happy hours, dinners out, and bought whatever I wanted. Now, a year later, I'm dealing with credit card debt that I haven't had in YEARS.

Thing that I have to remember is that Vegas isn't going anywhere. Would I like to hang out with my friends? Sure, we'd have fun. But would I feel guilty about not spending the money I spent on my flight on a new battery for my car? Yes, I would. And I should. I am less than 4 months away from being 31. As Carrie said on "King of Queens" last night, "When you're in your 30s, being broke is not cute anymore."

This also brings me to my New Orleans trip . . . I've been giving that some thought. Especially in light of my mounting bills, my failing car and my desire to be free of debt. New Orleans isn't going anywhere - even after Hurricane Katrina, it's still standing. And the Essence festival happens every year. Plus, I'm not super duper excited about seeing Beyonce . . .

So I made some decisions. No traveling this year. I need to focus on eliminating debt and those practical things in my life that I sometimes ignore because of the potential for fun.

As sad as I will be to miss Vegas this week and New Orleans in July, the idea of one less thing I have to save or pay for is such a relief . . .

Let the Spinnin' Wheel Fly

So my quest for a physical activity I like continues . . . my latest: spinning.
Last night I tried my first spin class at Gold's Gym. Normally it is taught by Janie, but word on the street is that Janie angled too hard for a raise and is no longer with Gold's Gym Oakland. Ahem.

The class wasn't packed, but it was full. I nervously hopped on a bike and the instructor (Gisele - who looked like she did the Tour de France at one point in her life) promptly informed me that she needed to find the right fit for me on the bike. She adjusted the settings on my bike and a couple others, and we all got on and pedaled slowly.

Gisele then explained to us her 14 years of experience with spinning (apparently her friend Johnny G created spinning 20 years ago), as well as what spinning was and what it wasn't. She insisted spinning was not doing push ups on the bike. That would not be going down in her class. I don't know about the other people in the room, but I breathed a sigh of relief.

So we get on and start pedaling away. Gisele calls us "Champs" collectively - until she knows our names, she says, we are deemed "Champs." Throughout the next 45 minutes Gisele tells us to "gear up" (I had no idea what that was), or stand up on the bike or increase the resistance. Meanwhile, the "computer" as Gisele calls it on my bike is not working. It's not working for the chick next to me either. We both shrug and assume we are going 90 mph as Gisele has requested.

At some point, I get a pain in the back of my left knee but I keep pedaling. It is frustrating to pedal when a.) you have no idea how fast you're going or how far you've traveled and b.) you're not going anywhere.

I certainly feel it today - my butt is sore, my thighs are achy and my calves are tight. But I'm not thinking spinning is my calling. There is a belly dancing class on Sundays though . . .

Guys and Diets

So what I have realized is there are two types of reactions when a dude hears you're on a diet . . .


There's the "You-Don't-Need-to-Go-On-No-Diet-Girl-You-Look-Good" dude. At first it may appear that this guy is your one true friend. But in reality this is your most selfish friend and he should NOT be trusted. Because this is the dude that probably really enjoys a particular part of your body (most likely your boobs or butt) and is more concerned that a diet will somehow diminish your rump or your cup, than concerned about your health. He probably doesn't notice your muffin top because he's too busy looking at other body parts. Don't trust this man.


But then there's the other the dude. I'll call him Mr. Helpful. Now his initial response to your "I'm on a diet" announcement is "Great! I can train/cook for/lift weights with you." He is probably all about fitness and health himself and has secretly thought for YEARS that you should drop some weight, but never had the guts to tell you. This is also the guy that can be very annoying. Case in point, my coworker is a Mr. Helpful. Here's what happened when we went to lunch last week:

ME: Hey the cafe downstairs now has pastrami sandwiches! I am so getting a pastrami sandwich!
MY WORK MR. HELPFUL: Dude, pastrami is bad. Get a turkey sandwich.
ME: I hate you. How bout I get a salad, you jerk?

I appreciate how a Mr. Helpful reminds me that every meal counts and points out how food that I don't think is that bad is a lot worse than I think. But sometimes I can't stand him - especially my Work Mr. Helpful because last week I really wanted that pastrami. In his defense, the salad I ate was pretty good and I had an unprecedented weight loss last week (I have maintained it for a week, too!).

Here's what happened when another Mr. Helpful took a look in my refrigerator (which mind you, is NOT THAT BAD):

Mr. Helpful: What is this? Salami? Muenster cheese? Olives? Girl, you can't eat ANY of this!

I mean, it's not like he found some soda or ho-hos or corn dogs in there. Are olives REALLY that bad??

In the end, I appreciate the Mr. Helpfuls in my life. They're not Mr. Harps-About-the-Diet-All-the-Time. This is something that my female friends (well, mainly my FAMILY) do more than my male friends. Ms. Harps-About-the-Diet-All-the-Time is the person who is constantly reminding you you're on a diet. She's probably on one too (and you know how misery loves company). She is sending you articles about the difference between trans fat and whatever other fats there are. She is offering you carrots from her little Tupperware container. She is inviting you to Weight Watchers. She just makes it really hard to be around her, because you don't want your diet to be your LIFE. And she is so obsesses with the latest fad (no carbs, points, the lemonade diet, etc.) that she is really hard to even have a convo with.

I appreciate people who are just trying to be, well helpful. And that is the most important part.

(I'm wondering if anyone is going to get my reference to "Guys and Dolls" . . . )

The Ides of March

Okay, so it is mid-March and it has suddenly occurred to me that I have about 4 months left to accomplish my goals. I thought it was time to revisit where I am on my "31 Things to Do Before 31 List."

I have already realized that it will be simply impossible to accomplish some of these items 4 months, much less a year (since I started the list shortly after I turned 30). So I thought I'd put them into categories: things I can do NOW (that for some reason I haven't), things I can do before I turn 31 on July 31, things that will take longer than 1 year to do, and the things I have completed.

I thought I'd start on the positive . . . the things I have completed (it's a short list):

1. Get a bicycle
2. Take vitamins daily - not only am I taking vitamins, I'm taking amino acids!
3. Get carpets cleaned - okay, I need to do this again, but I did it in December
4. Find a side gig - planning a marathon!
5. Reduce junk food and fast food intake
6. Cook one major meal each week
7. Get a physical
8. Get 30 minutes of physical activity at least 3 times/week
9. Watch more documentaries and independent films - I made it my mission to see those small indies that got a lot of award attention like "Slumdog Millionaire," "Milk" and "The Wrestler" - I loved them all!

So, then there are the things that I have realized are going to take much longer than I thought:

1. Write a book - I got started, but I didn't like how it was going, so back to the drawing board!
2. Eliminate credit card debt by 50%
3. Increase balance in savings account
4. Buy a desk - I totally found the desk I want, but it costs $3000 and I'm thinking considering #2&3 on this list, I probably should wait until I get this one accomplished
5. Eliminate negative relationships - platonic, familial and romantic (I think it takes years to accomplish this)
6. Make one home improvement - still not sure what to do . . .

There are the things I still have hope to do over the next 4 months:

1. Go to New Orleans
2. Lose at least 20 lbs - 17 to go!
3. Stop wearing so much black
4. Buy a pair of designer jeans
5. Buy a large mirror for the dining room
6. Perform in a stepshow - will accomplish this one this weekend!
7. Pay off car - 2 more payments (of course now I need new brakes and a new battery so there goes that savings . . . )
8. Complete family tree and send to family - I could do this right now, but I'm pretty sure I won't do it until I have a vacation
9. Get more involved in church - I am torn between 2 churches now, so I'm not sure which to get involved in . . .

And these are the things I should be doing now, and have no excuse for not doing:

1. Find a physical activity I enjoy doing - still haven't found anything to commit to
2. Drink more water - I'm good while at work, but not at home
3. Do sit-ups nightly
4. Learn more about football
5. Balance my checkbook weekly
6. Read more - I'm thinking about changing this to read the Bible since that is what I have been doing lately
7. Get a passport

Hold me accountable!

Got My Mind on My Calories, Calories on My Mind

So, now that I have decided to watch my caloric-intake, I am feeling a little more goal oriented. It's important to have a goal beyond "I want to be healthy." My goal is to drop 20 pounds and drop 2 sizes before I turn 31!

I googled around until I found www.my-calorie-counter.com. It's a website where I enter what I ate for the day and how much activity I did and it helps me keep track of how much of my diet is carbs v. protein v. fat. Now, I just started this week and I've been eating more carbs and fat than anything, but I'm getting better . . .

It helps a lot with making informed food choices. I got really excited today because by 5pm, I had like 1000 calories left for the day (in order to lose 1 pound a week, I have to eat less than 1830 calories/day). Today in the gym rather than counting the minutes left on the elliptical machine, I counted calories. I wanted to reach at least 200 before I got off.

I also was excited last week because two pairs of pants that ABSOLUTELY did not fit two months ago fit me. I mean, back in November/December when I put these on, it was PAINFUL and I couldn't wait to change. But this time, I had on the pants for several hours. Ran around town running errands in them. Even got a manicure. I don't think anyone besides me has noticed anything, but dammit, I'm a happy camper! They weren't loose or anything and I'm not going down a size, so the journey continues . . .

The Secret

So I figured out the secret key to my weight loss - being busy.

Today I was super busy. I was running here and there. Working, running errands, getting a physical. I had a small breakfast (a banana), a healthy lunch (the BEST Cobb salad) and I wasn't even really hungry by the time I got home. In fact, I didn't obsess about food the way I usually do.

When I say I obsess about food, I really do . . .

There was this time I had a craving for some Cool Ranch Doritos. I was at a conference for work. I sat there and listened to a union organizer tell a compelling interesting story about his life. But all I could think about was how good those damn Doritos would taste. I thought about the blue bag and how much I love to lick the spices of one side of the chip before I eat it. I considered how it would impact my job performance if I ran out and grabbed a bag. I contemplated the most inconspicuous way to leave the ballroom I was in so that no one would notice.

Seriously, it was crazy. But you get my point.

Today I didn't obsess about food. In fact I am a little disappointed I didn't eat more because I discovered an online food diary and I really wanted to calculate my calories for the day.

One of the reasons I've avoided going on an official diet is because I just don't want food to overwhelm my life. I want to enjoy it, not dread it. Today I ate for sustenance, not because I was bored or because TV commercials or Doritos billboards subliminally influenced me (I believe this for real - that's another blog post on the evils of the food industries marketing tactics).

Instead of thinking about what I was going to eat or what I couldn't eat, I thought about work and all that I needed to do this weekend. Ironically, I cried last night because I felt so overwhelmed with all that was on my plate between work, extracurricular activities, my fear of letting people down, my ambition and my commitment to making sure I have a social life. But today I felt good.

Boredom = Doritos

That is what I've learned.

Baptism?

I think I have shared that this healthy living journey is not just about my physical health but my spiritual health as well. They are dual tracks, parallel journeys. Both entail sacrifice and commitment and being patient. One can help the other.

I went to church with one of my sorhority sisters a few weeks ago. It was the first Sunday and they did communion. Because I wasn't baptized, I couldn't participate. It made me think. What else am I missing out on because I'm not baptized?

Then I'm watching "Baldwin Hills," and two of the characters get baptized. I think to myself, "How are these 18 year olds coming into their spiritual awareness before me?"

I'm considering it now. I know I have to think about it more. I know I need to learn about it more. It is scary. I absolutely cannot slip once I make that commitment. That I know. But I also don't want to miss out on anything more because I haven't made a commitment to God.

I'll think about it . . .

Day 1 of Calorie Counting

Last night I decided I was going to start counting calories. I realized that although I have lost a little weight, it's not significant enough. Now I'm getting ready for my New Orleans trip (Jamaica isn't in the cards this year - not enough vacation time or money!). Granted, I certainly won't be on the beaches of New Orleans and I'm not getting ready for Mardi Gras so there is no reason to lift up my shirt in public. But I still want to be able to stroll down Canal Street in some shorts and a tank top and not get mistaken for an extra in an early Cash Money video (you know, before they had money to hire real video vixens and had to just get homegirls from the neighborhood) . . .

The first day of calorie counting did not go well. Why? I am not sure. I started off with a bowl of gluten-free cereal, with lowfat milk and fresh raspberries. It was great. And I of course forgot to write down how many calories were in a bowl of gluten-free cornflakes with milk and raspberries. But that's okay.

So I get to work and it's time for a snack (remember I have an 1.5 hour commute to work so by the time I get to my desk it's like 2-3 hours after my last meal). I eat a hard boiled egg. I asked my co-worker, "Do you know how many calories in a hard boiled egg?" She says no but that it has 5 grams of fat. Okay, I'm not doing well so far but it's only the morning.

I eat Indian food for lunch. No nutrition label, but it was GREAT. Lot of food too. I snack on a gluten-free power bar, some fruit and these nasty gluten-free lime-cilantro chips I got from Whole Foods. During step practice, I consume another gluten-free power bar which surprisingly does give me a little boost during step practice. I get home around 9pm and am not super hungry, but consider snacking on some green olives and cheese.

I have no idea how many calories I consumed today.

I must do better tomorrow. Stay tuned!

The Biggest Fear is Fear Itself

One of my biggest fears is myself.

Today I went to a group exercise class at the gym (Full Sculpt and Abs with Janie). It was a blast! Janie's pretty entertaining. I enjoyed the music she played (we did squats to "The Cha Cha Slide"! It doesn't get better than that). The class was full of friendly women who seemed to know each other. There was a spirit of camaraderie and friendliness. And yes, I got a good workout (sit-ups can be HARD). Afterwards, I felt energetic and got on the treadmill and walked/jogged/ran for about 20 minutes. It was great.

At some point, I got a "This isn't going to last" feeling. I can't tell you the times over the years I've had a good workout or training session or healthy meal and told myself, "I'm going to do this every day! I'll be skinny in a month!" And then it never happens. Inevitably life rears its ugly head and I'm unable to COMMIT to the healthy lifestyle. I HATE THAT.

But it's all me.

I'm the same in relationships though. I'm not necessarily fearful of the guy (I mean I can't control if he acts stupid or doesn't realize that I am the most FABULOUS woman he'll EVER date). I am fearful of MYSELF. I am fearful of losing myself in a relationships and moving to the level (see my LEVELS OF SINGLEHOOD entry) of dating where I stop focusing on myself and start focusing too much on the guy and being in a relationship. I've been doing pretty well lately in making sure this doesn't happen. Case in point - a recent convo with one of my sorhority sisters -

Sorhority Sister (SS): So what's up with you and the fellas?
ME: I met someone I like.
SS: Really?!? Who is he? Do we know him?!? Why don't you bring him around?!?

Now my FORMER response to her asking to meet the dude would be as follows -

ME: How about we have party/go to Kincaid's/meet at Levende this weekend? I'll invite him!

However, it's HEALTHY LIVING (in ALL aspects of my life) Jam Rockah now so my response was more like:

ME: You know what? I don't think I want to do that anymore. I don't feel the need to parade some dude around. I think I'd rather my girlfriends see me as "Independent Jam Rockah" and not "Boo'd Up Jam Rockah."
SS: Look at you! Some one's growing up!

I realize that I'm enjoying this time focusing on myself. I'm not hearing the biological clock ticking in my ear. I'm hearing the knock of opportunity. And dammit, I am NOT going to miss out this time.

Status Report

So I have been doing this diet thing for almost 2 months now . . .

My sorhority sister asked me the other day, "So how is it going?"

I'm not sure how to answer that.

The problem is METRICS. Like how do you measure your healthy living? Weight? Blood pressure? Ability to get a date?

The scale hasn't been too helpful. I dropped a few pounds - but clearly not enough for anyone to have noticed. My pants don't necessarily cut off my circulation like they used to, but I'm not down a size.

I did schedule a physical for myself next week. I thought it might be good to at least know some quantitative data about my health status. I'm quite sure the doctor will tell me I need to lose some weight. But at least he cannot admonish my eating habits because those have certainly changed. Yeah, I'm still a sucker for some chocolate, but I can't remember the last time I had a soda. I've stayed away from fast food. And except for last week when I was on a work trip and my food options were limited, I have been gluten-free.

Now I have slipped time and again. There have been dinners and lunches out with friends where I ate a lot. I haven't given up happy hour or passed up a free drink at the bar. So, I have NOT been as disciplined as I could be . . .

The thing is, I FEEL good. I don't feel skinny. I don't feel like hitting the beach in my pre-organ donation bikini. But I feel good. I feel more energetic. I feel more positive. I enjoy going to the gym. I feel like smiling more.

There are probably some reasons I feel this way that don't have much to do with what I'm eating (or not eating) or my increased physical activity. Positive relationships with friends and family, job satisfaction, extracurricular activities all help I think.

Unfortunately, you can't measure feeling good via a scale or a blood pressure test.

The Bike People

I crossed another thing off my "31 Things to Do Before I Turn 31" list this weekend when my mom gave me her mountain bike.Now that she lives in pedestrian-unfriendly LA, she doesn't use it. I promptly took it to the bike shop to get the tires fixed and to buy a lock. I'm excited about the bike, although not excited about the helmet. There is just no way I'm going to get my swagger on in a bike helmet . . .

I forgot how liberating a bicycle can be! This morning I rode it to the gym, iPod on, pedaling away to John Legend's "Green Light." It was perfect, although my butt was a little sore (I'm thinking I may need a new seat or something).

However, I need to learn bicycle etiquette. Yes, as in every other hobby there exists some sort of subculture. While in the bike shop waiting for my tires to get fixed, I observed "the bike people." The bike people use certain lingo, wear certain outfits, and seem to be way more skilled than I at noticing when a car door is about to open. Now, I am not interested in becoming one of The Bike People (it appears another one of their requirements is some sort of a beard). I am not about to wear the special socks or get all Lance Armstrong-y. And I'm definitely not giving up my car in favor of a bike. But I think it might help to understand the rules of the road a bit more. They're more complicated than I thought.

As a driver, I usually cannot stand cyclists. I hate driving in Berkeley on a sunny day because they pack the streets. In fact, one day, my sorhority sister and I were in her car near Cal's campus and she accidentally slightly hit a girl riding a bike. Slightly. In my sorhor's defense, the girl wasn't really riding in a straight line - she was trying to navigate her bike and a large Jamba juice across the crosswalk. In fact when the girl fell off the bike, her concern really seemed to be in making sure the Jamba juice didn't spill rather than her limbs (I can't blame her - a Jamba juice is a whole meal when you're on a college student's budget).

Bottom line is, I've become more cognizant of my fellow bike-riding brethren. I hope you will too, when you see me riding beside you, singing "I'm ready to go right now! I'm ready to go right now!" at the top of my lungs.

Just Say No . . . To Wheat?

Yesterday, I went out to lunch with some co-workers. We went to the Old Spaghetti factories. I ordered whole wheat pasta, and a dish that had broccoli (which was VERY good) on it. I skipped the bread and drank water. I felt proud of myself.

After lunch, I felt horrible. Not food-poisoning horrible but bloated and heavy horrible. I chocked it up to the typical malaise one feels on a rainy day in February at work. Plus, it was a very familiar feeling. I often feel sluggish after certain meals. I figured it was just me.

Later on, on the train, I'm reading a new book recommended to me, "The Diet Cure." About how your poor eating habits and struggles with healthy eating are related to your brain and body chemistry. It details my symptoms and suggests perhaps I have a food allergy - to either wheat (the spaghetti), dairy (the chocolate my boss gave me for V-Day or the cream sauce on the spaghetti) or sugar (which aside from the chocolate, I didn't really have that day). Even later, at home, I'm reading "Women's Health" (which I am TOTALLY a fan of, surprisingly) and there's an article about food allergies and how most people THINK they are allergic to something but they may just be intolerant to it. Or there may be some digestive issues with it. Either way, both the book and magazine suggest not eating the food you suspect you may have a problem with for a few weeks, seeing how you feel, then gradually re-introducing it into your diet in small quantities.

So I'm TOTALLY trying that. Today is Day 1 of no wheat. This sucks as I just bought some cereal and bread at Safeway on Wednesday. But I can substitute - try gluten-free stuff. Eat rice based cereal. Anyways, it is just an experiment. And the cereal and crackers aren't perishable, so I should be okay.

If there is no change with the wheat, I'll start eating it again and try to skip on the dairy (milk and cheese). See how that works.

Wish me luck!

I'm a Sucker

There's this Garfield cartoon my co-worker once had posted up in her cubicle. In the first few panels, Garfield is getting together all this equipment and gear to exercise. He gets sweatbands for his head and arms, shorts, a shirt, a new bag - everything he could possibly need to exercise. By the last panel, Garfield, decked out in his fancy workout clothes, is lying on the floor on his back . Despite having purchased all the necessities for working out, he never actually does. Nonetheless he says, "Whew! Now, I'm too tired to work out." It's pretty funny. And boy can I relate!

I am totally one of those people (and I know there are a lot of us out there) that needs to buy a bunch of gimmicky items before I can start an exercise or weight loss program. I am the sucker consumer that is always looking for the easy way to lose some weight. Whether it be an article in a magazine about "Drop Two Dress Sizes by Friday" or some kind of magic pill, I have pretty much purchased it all. I'm quite sure I could have purchased an entire GYM, maybe a Gold's franchise, with the money I spent on "tools" for weight loss and exercise. And regardless of the money I have spent, none of these things have helped me with being committed to a healthy living regimine.

Not to say that some things haven't been useful. In fact, I'd put them into two groups.

Non-Useful Items:

1. Suzanne Somers' book, "Fast and Easy"
2. Weight watchers member packet
3. Subscription to e-Diets
4. Diet pills
5. Anything Slimfast related
6. Personal training sessions (only because I wasn't motivated to go)
7. Boot Camp (again, I just wasn't motivated, so it was a waste of money)
8. Clothes that were cute but too small for me that I purchased in hopes they would inspire me to lose weight

Useful Items:

1. Food scale
2. Vegetarian cookbooks
3. Sports bra
4. Vitamins
5. Yoga pants
6. Gym membership
7. Braids (this strangely relates because I never have to worry about messing up my hair when I get braids . . . nor do I have to worry about making all Black people look bad when I wear my hair wrapped in a scarf at the gym)

This is something that may not change anytime soon. In fact today, I purchased an issue of "Women's Health" and yesterday I purchased a book that someone recommended that examines the reasons behind unhealthy food choices. Not sure what category these things will go into, yet . . .

2 Steps Back

I start this week feeling horrible.

I am feeling guilty.

I am feeling discouraged.

Most of all, I am feeling disappointed in myself. And I hate that feeling.

If you hung out with me this weekend, you would have never known I was trying to diet and exercise. I didn't do any of it. Let me reflect on the various things I did this weekend which detracted me from my journey towards healthy living:

1. I did not work out. Except for step practice, I did not work out on Saturday or Sunday. Considering how tough it is for me to work out during the week because of my long hours, working out on the weekend is CRUCIAL. Bad Jamila.

2. I had fast food. Save for a Subway sandwich every now and then, I have not had fast food in a long time more than once in 2009. However, on Saturday, I had several slices of Round Table Pizza after a stepshow. It was a fundraiser. I was hungry. It was good. But I did too much. I could've gone straight for the salad bar (although I find them rather un-hygienic). Had maybe one piece. But no, not Jamila! Then on Sunday, I could have gone to the grocery store in the morning and purchased some groceries and made a nice, healthy lunch. But no, I waited until 30 minutes before step practice to grab some food. I spotted that Devil Woman on the way named Wendy and I had fast food. It totally wasn't worth it and after not having it for a while, actually tasted pretty gross.

3. I snacked on way too many chips. At a sorority meeting, I ate nothing but Doritos. My sorhority sister said, "Hey, aren't you on a diet?" She was right. As I write this, I am trying to justify why I ate nothing but chips (there were a lot of chips, I didn't have time for breakfast, I like chips, etc.) I didn't really feel guilty at the time, but I do now. Again, they sure didn't do much for my hunger. And I felt crappy after.

4. I skipped church. I'd like to blame this on my neighbor who chose to utilize a hammer at 7am on Sunday morning. So I feel horrible not only physically, but spiritually. However, I can't blame it all on my neighbor. I could've gotten up while he was a-hammerin' away and gone to the gym. But no, I laid in bed stewing for a while and drifted back off to sleep when he finally finished. Seriously, though, what kind of home improvements does one need to make at 7 on Sunday morning?

The whole point of this blog and this whole journey is for me to really figure out WHY I make the poor decisions I make when it comes to my health. So I'm trying to figure those out. I can see some reasons . . .

1. I Overbooked Myself. One of my friends says I do this sometimes where I schedule a bunch of things to do in a few days. I love being super busy, but I notice I use these busy days as excuses to not work on myself. I need to start prioritizing exercising and healthy eating as much as I prioritize social activities. And maybe include working or a trip the grocery store among the many things I plan on the weekends.

2. I Had Fun. I won't lie that I enjoyed myself. I went to the movies twice (thumbs up to "The Wrestler"). I went to a stepshow. I hung out with sorhority sisters and new friends. But clearly I didn't equate a healthy lifestyle with fun, as I found every reason to avoid it.

3. It Rained. I find when the weather is bad, I LOVE to sleep in and not go to the gym. This is really not an excuse.

What is most interesting to me though, and maybe what I consider a victory, is that even though I made some bad decisions, I totally wrestled with whether or not I should do most of them (except maybe the chips on Saturday). I ultimately made the wrong choices, but it is no longer instinct to sleep in or eat poorly. I consider that a victory. I'm trying really to not be hard on myself but that is just as difficult as this diet is . . .

One of my high school classmates is trying to quit smoking. He is blogging about his journey too. I was reading an entry and he wrote something that totally inspired me. "One day at a time. One decision made and followed." I can dig that.

I Want a Commitment

I think my inability to successfully and consistently live healthily is really related to my inability to fully commit to it. So, in thinking about what I can do to better commit, I started thinking about the things in my life I have been able to commit to and looking for common themes. The truth is I want to commit to this, I really do, I just don't know why it is so hard to commit to it, but it is easy (or easier) to commit to other things . . .

1. EDUCATION: I loved college and I knew I was going to go on to graduate school. Even though I HATED grad school (I toyed with quitting it for a while), I really never would have actually quit. I learned at a young age how valuable education was and how much it would help me. So I pulled all-nighters, spent hundreds of dollars on books, and lived on Top Ramen for 6 years because I knew it would eventually pay off. And it did. I absolutely LOVE putting three letters after my name and looking at TWO University of California degrees in my office. I don't like repaying student loans, but at least that is "good debt." If there is such a thing . . .

2. MY HAIR: Except for maybe college when I had no money and no regular means of transportation, I don't go long without getting my hair done. Probably the longest I've gone since, well since the 21st century, is 3 months. Maybe less. I love getting my hair done. Don't get me wrong - I don't like spending all day in the shop or sitting in an uncomfortable chair. But I do enjoy someone else doing my hair; someone who is far better skilled than I at it. And even in my poorest days, I have found ways to get my hair done by someone else. My hair has been so dependable over the years. It has put up with perms, hair dyes, and a super short cut (I got mine way before Rihanna). And still it stays there. I'm not obsessed with clothes, makeup or mani-pedis, but dammit, I am NOT giving up my every-other-week appointment.

3. SIGMA GAMMA RHO: From the first step show I attended at San Jose State University in 1992, I KNEW I was going to be in a sorority. It was just TOTALLY my thing. Synchronized dancing, special colors and hand signs . . . and a whole lotta boys. Yes, I was totally in that 20% of the college population that was going to join SOMETHING. On my campus, Sigma Gamma Rho ruled. I thought they were just the coolest girls. They were all tall. They carried themselves well. And they took me to a fraternity party when I was underage and let me use their IDs to get in. At 19, I didn't care much about community service or history, I just wanted to hang with those girls. Then, when I was "preparing" to get in, I learned about it, respected it and was really glad I was becoming a part of such a huge movement of women, striving to improve themselves and their community. Through my 12 years in my organization, I think I was uninvolved for a few years, but I always peripherally kept up with what was going on. Always enjoyed a stepshow. And always rocked my letters somewhere on my car. It's not even the money I've invested in the organization, it really is the relationships I've formed with my sorority sisters over the years that have kept me involved.

4. JANET EVANOVICH AND SUE GRAFTON: I love to read, and especially love mysteries. My mother turned me onto both of these authors a while ago, and I will always read their books. They're funny writers, with gripping story lines and smart, independent, fierce heroines that I totally relate to. Sure, Janet and Sue have made a few missteps along the years, but for the most part I enjoy their books. And I get so much enjoyment from their books that I refuse to not buy/borrow the new Kinsey Milhone or Stephanie Plum novel when it comes out. Beyond maybe JK Rowling (who doesn't love Harry Potter?!?), there just aren't any authors that have kept my attention for over 10 years. Okay, so I'm not going to stand in line to get an autograph or start a Sue Grafton fan club anytime soon, but they remain the two authors in my life that I will always follow.

5. LAW & ORDER: My mother got me into this show. I didn't really get into it until the summer of 1997, when I watched it every night at 11pm on A&E. I got caught up on the first few seasons in one summer, and realized that I really liked the show. Like every other thing in my life, there's been a few missteps (you're just not going to convince me Elisabeth Rohm was a good actress) and some unnecessary spin offs (Um, "Trial by Jury"? Really?), but I know at the very least, the show is going to bring up some kind of story line that's going to engage me on a level that perhaps "Family Guy" or "Maury Povich" don't reach. Plus, I kind of like the multiculturalism of the show. Oh, and Sam Waterston is totally underrated.

I realize it might be slightly pathetic to only have 5 things that I can admit to being committed to (I'm sure there are more, but these stick out in my head). I realize it also may be slightly pathetic that I included a fictional TV show and my hair on this list. But, I'm over 30 now and I'm at an age where I am comfortable with myself and I lot of decisions I made. That doesn't mean I don't REGRET them, but it does mean that I am not going to beat myself up over them - because I have LEARNED the most from my mistakes. And at the end of the day, I really do like my sorority! I love Janet Evanovich books! And I think Law & Order is coming on soon (it is always on at some time, on some channel) so I'm trying to wind this down . . .

If anyone out there is reading this, I could sure use some input on what these things have in common. The only thing I can see right now is that they all bring me some sort of enjoyment or value. The books and the TV show are instant enjoyment; school and the sorority are long term commitments that have brought value to my life in the form of relationships and marketability. The question is: how can I make my diet/exercise bring me these things as well?

God and Money

I am recognizing that my struggles with trying to drop some pounds (8 so far!) parallel my struggles with overall commitment. My main issues with commitment I have seen manifested in how I handle money and my spirituality. I am realizing these are all related issues.

Like many Americans, I make a pretty good salary but I also have unnecessary debt. Too many times I have shrugged and said "Who cares?" and gone out to eat or purchased a new shirt or bought a round of drinks when I shouldn't have. Of course, I am suffering from it now. But it is a daily struggle to not spend money when I really want to. Just like it is a struggle to not eat a hamburger from Ahn's or a cupcake after dinner.

It all comes down to discipline. I have a hard time with it - I mean, I think I was an okay kid; I obeyed my parents and teachers for the most part (we all have our moments). But when it comes to self-discipline, I just suck at it. I too often go for the good, but fleeting, feeling when I should be looking more towards long-term happiness and satisfaction.

Which leads to my other struggle: spirituality. I wasn't necessarily raised in a religious family - we attended church occasionally and my dad prayed every night. My parents thought that religion was more a personal choice and if we wanted to go to church, they were down, but they weren't necessarily going to force it on us. I also think they had issues with organized religion as a whole. I share this too. I am pro-choice and I don't necessarily think homosexuality is the downfall of society. I've been going to church for the last year off and on though and it's a church that I have really enjoyed, that doesn't spend all the service complaining about abortion and same-sex marriage. But I have been passive. I go to church, I enjoy the service, I clap along with the choir, but for the most part I haven't made any changes in my personal life. I don't know if I feel sometimes God owes me (I've had some real challenges the last 2 years), but I do know that I haven't done my part to make those changes that will make me a better person. This is where the healthy eating comes in. Taking care of myself, eating right, drinking water, doing physical activities - these are all things that show that I love myself. At the end of the day, I think that's what God wants us to do - love ourselves. And we demonstrate love for ourself by taking care of ourselves - physically, financially, emotionally, etc.

So this "Healthy Living" journey I'm on isn't just necessarily fitting my pants or getting down to the weight listed on my driver's license. It's about getting healthy with my bank account, getting healthy with God and developing my overall love for myself.

I can't deny I'm scared. After all, I haven't been able to commit to these issues in the past. The other thing I struggle with is FAITH. And I just have to have enough faith in myself that I can do this. Because I want to go to Heaven AND Jamaica!