Haunted by Girls

I got into HBO's "Girls" a bit late and missed a lot of the controversy around it. I noticed immediately the lack of diversity of the cast, especially considering the setting in Brooklyn, New York. This was a similar observation of "Friends" and "Sex and the City." However, that's another blog topic . . .

I was really moved by last night's episode of "Girls." Normally I watch the show as a spectator because I really can't identify with a bunch of white girls in their 20s trying to find themselves. I'm sure I might have been really into it when I was in my 20s and trying to find myself but now that I have a child, a mortgage, and a ton of responsibilities that make incessantly talking about yourself a privilege, the show doesn't really hit home. It's similar to how I felt watching "Sex and the City" 10 years ago - I was in college when the show came out and I was in my mid-20s when it ended and though now I can totally identify with the show (we all have a Mr. Big or a Steve), I enjoyed it as a spectator when I watched it initially. At 21, I was more focused on graduate school than finding Mr. Right. I watched SATC glad I wasn't in my mid-30s desperate to find a man just as I watch "Girls," happy that I'm not desperate to find myself.

But last night's episode spoke to me on a different level. It wasn't as a fun of an episode. You didn't see any other storylines with other characters and all their quirkiness. And the whole thing was quite preposterous - Hannah meets this handsome wealthy, newly-separated, slightly dorky, 42 year old doctor who is so taken by her they have this weekend affair where he cooks her steak and actually wants her to stay overnight. That just doesn't happen. Especially to someone like Hannah. So if you have any logic in your brain (and I consider those that believe in rom-coms to be highly illogical), you know that something is going to happen. And if you've been watching the show and are familiar with Hannah's character, you know that she's probably going to fuck it up. And of course she does.

Maybe it was reminiscing on that time in my life when 36 hours could go by and that didn't mean anything because I was so into someone's company. Perhaps it was the beautiful, and oh so appropriate instrumental music playing in the last few scenes. Regardless, for some reason, this episode just resonated with me. I think it was because Hannah has this moment where she realizes, although she's got this self-imposed persona of being a suffering artist, she actually wouldn't mind having a nice, happy, drama-free life like the one she experiences in this day and a half with the doctor. But she can't. It's not her. So she fucks it up by once again displaying that at the end of the day, she's underdeveloped and kind of an asshole. She doesn't have the capacity to be more than that right now. There's a scene at the end where, after she has a meltdown and firmly turns the doctor off and ends the fantasy, she wakes up at his house and looks around and realizes the doctor is gone. We see her get the paper (he's left THAT early that he didn't bring in the paper), make some toast and sit in his beautiful backyard and eat and read the paper. She puts her head down and the camera just shows her staring off, likely realizing the entirety of the situation. She then walks around his house, looking at his suits in his huge closet. Then she makes the bed and leaves his house, making sure to dump the garbage (if you've watched the episode you get the significance of this) and lock the door firmly behind her. As Hannah walks off down the street away from his house, the music continues to play. The traffic continues. Life goes on. She's dipped her toe into what is normalcy and it was too hot (or maybe too cold).

I had a lot of questions about this episode - why did Hannah linger when she woke up and realized the doc was gone? Was she expecting him to come back and wanted a chance to talk with him? Did she realize he was not coming back until very late, because he didn't want to run into her, so she knew she had plenty of time? And the biggest question: why couldn't she keep it together long enough to end the weekend?

I watched this episode and in particular the last few scenes multiple times (including again this morning while my son repeatedly asked why he couldn't watch "Sponge Bob"). I realized, after seeing Hannah's face lying there staring, why it touched me so much. I think it's because for people like Hannah, and too a certain extent I can identify with this, it's way easier to live in the sad-rejected-depressed-loser state than in the happy-euphoric state. There's something comforting, particularly for a character that readily admits she wants to experience painful moments in order to write about them, in that feeling because you know it. You know that it won't last too long, you know where you stand in it and you know from pain often comes creativity. I think Mary J. Blige is the best example - while she was at her lowest moments, she seemed to make her best music. And frankly unhappiness is often easier to relate to than happiness. To be, just to be, with the doctor would be too much for Hannah - she'd start feeling insecure (he's a handsome rich doctor - why does he like ME?). She'd start thinking about what they were doing and that it wasn't going anywhere because he was newly separated and was dealing with that and just wanted to have a good time with a 24 year old. Either way she would overthink it and mess it up for what it is - just a fun weekend with a handsome man. I realized throughout the whole episode, I was doing just that though - I was totally overthinking it, waiting for the shoe to drop, for Hannah to be, well, Hannah. I couldn't enjoy the episode for what it was - entertainment. A good time. I think that was precisely the point. And I loved it.

I am not sure what the overall message is with this episode. I am going back and forth about whether or not, it was about living in the moment. Or being happy. I don't know what it is. But I know that I can totally relate to that "this is going too well, I must fuck it up in order for me to feel some sense of normalcy or control" feeling that I think drove Hannah in many ways. Either way, I will watch this episode again because there's just something about it- maybe it's haunting me in a way. But I know I am supposed to get something out of it.

For all its issues, there's something about "Girls" that keeps me tuned in. I'm glad I'm not one of these chicks - they're not necessarily likeable. And though many things happen that are outlandish or just funny or things that I just have no experience in, there are episodes like last night where for some reason I just get it. And I'm glad that it made me start blogging again . . .

Day One

So I haven't written in my blog for almost a year. Why? 1.) New network security at work meant I couldn't access the site; 2.) my son started becoming mobile; and most importantly, 3.) I wasn't feeling inspired. I have maintained my 30 pound weight loss for almost a year now. But I haven't been able to lose anymore - certainly not at the rate I was going last year. There were many factors affecting this - from my relationship to the weather change to the lack of breastfeeding (boy does that help!). And I would lose 2lbs one week, and then gain it back the next. But still I've maintained the weight loss and I've dropped 2 sizes since last year. But I've known that I'm not there yet. I'm still 25lbs away from the weight listed on my license, so I've still got work to do. Only the same methods weren't working for me. Despite running a 10K and doing a half-marathon this year, I haven't been doing enough . . . so my trainer said it was time to kick it up a notch.

So today is Day 1 of this diet she has me on. The first phase is basically a detox. Now, she asked me to not share it so I'm not giving the details (you can contact her at www.meffitness.com) but basically it involves cutting out the good stuff - carbs, dairy, and sugar - for 30 days and then slowly inserting them back into your diet. Today's the first day and I'm munching on a corn tortilla (those are allowed), downing water, and not really looking forward to my snack of celery sticks. BUT, I'm motivated. It's like when I run - there's a certain point - maybe the first mile or two when I really am not feeling it and I want to give up. But if I push past that point, I'm fine and I can run for 10 miles. Plus, let's be real: this isn't the hardest thing I've ever done. I've donated an organ. I've had a baby. Hell, I've commuted 90 miles one way to work for 3 years. Surely, 30 days without alcohol or tortilla chips or a cookie isn't going to kill me.

But thank goodness I have this outlet.

Ode to My Lime Green Pants

Oh, Lime Green (yellow to some) Capris, how I appreciate you

We met during my September 2008 trip to South Beach Miami. The pants I brought with me had been destroyed when some hairspray exploded in my suitcase. I was so grateful to find you on the clearance rack at the Gap - the right size, right color and fit. I purchased you immediately, and together we strolled out onto Lincoln Road, off to do something touristy.

I wore you a couple times when I was back in California. But soon the weather changed and it was too cold to wear you. By the time Spring came back around, well, I was pregnant and you stayed with the rest of my pre-pregnancy clothes in the back of my closet.

A year later, I tried you again and you didn't fit. In fact, every time I tried to squeeze you on, I got depressed because although I had given birth several months prior, I still couldn't fit you. Then one day, a few months ago, I slid you on and you fit! In fact, you fit well. I even got some compliments. You became a regular staple in my summer wardrobe.

Lime Green Capris, I wore you yesterday. And as much as I love you, I realize we have to depart. Not because it's fall now and you're clearly a summer color. But because I found myself pulling you up several times yesterday. When I stood up after sitting at my desk for a few hours, you were no longer capris because you had slid down to around my ankles. You're too big for me now, Lime Green Capris. And so I should give you to someone else and make room for a pair of light-colored capris in a smaller size.

I will miss you Lime Green Capris! You remind me of the fun I had in South Beach. You are a symbol of summer, happiness and living healthy. But REJOICE Lime Green Capris because this means I am smaller than I was pre-pregnancy! And THAT we can celebrate together before you go off to your new owner.

Dowhatchalike

I have an extreme admiration for people who have found their niche. From the Deadheads to Trekkies, I am in awe of people who have found something they really enjoy. Regardless of how nerdy it might be.

I took my son with me down to Santa Cruz on Labor Day Weekend and we met up with a friend from high school who took us on a hike. Upon arriving at the park in the Santa Cruz mountains, we stumbled upon this medieval reenactment group. They were all dressed up in their armor, with their shields and swords. At first we laughed at them - I mean it was kinda corny. But as we watched them for a bit and spoke with one of them, we began to realize these people were having a really good time.

I've always wanted to find a unique niche for myself. I guess an outsider could look at my life and assume my niche is being in a sorority. I mean, like the medieval people, we wear costumes (letters), use canes, have coordinated dances . . . we travel, compete, etc. It might even be corny to outsiders. I'm not sure if I want that to be my only niche though. It would be nice to find something that my son and I could do together - and something that might be physical so we can continue to incorporate physical activity into our daily lives.

Either way, I realized I really respect people who do what they love to do. Even if it is dressing up like Sir Lancelot and jousting in a park in Santa Cruz.

Halfway There

So I have reached the halfway point of my weight loss goals and have now lost over 20 pounds! We are only at the midpoint and I still have 20 more pounds to go before I'm at my goal weight. So by no means am I done, although I am feeling mighty victorious. Losing 20 pounds was not as hard as I thought it would be - I didn't have to starve myself, I didn't have to eat 2 shakes and a healthy dinner, I didn't have to give up carbs and I didn't have to drink some weird lemonade. I just had to make better decisions about my food choices and work out more consistently. But again, I'm not there so I'm certainly not the spokesperson for weight loss (at least not yet!).

Is there an inverse of the expression: "every cloud has a silver lining"?

I can totally feel the weight loss. My clothes fit better (I'm down a size). I feel a little more comfortable about my appearance in pictures. I have more energy. But I can honestly say/write that I thought 20 pounds would be more dramatic. Which makes me think losing 20 more will not result in the dramatic change I have been anticipating. So though everything is good, it doesn't feel as good as I expected.

Now I didn't embark on this journey because I wanted a reaction from people or I wanted to enter "America's Next Top Model." I embarked on the journey because I was just tired of my weight preventing me from being the best me I can be. I also now want pass on healthy eating and physical activity habits to my son. And I want him to be proud of his mom.

I just wonder when you get to the point where you're satisfied with your appearance? Or maybe you don't ever get there . . . I guess I was hoping this whole journey has an end.

Missing You

I am so close to my 20 pound goal I can taste it . . . even if I didn't lose the .4 lbs I was supposed to lose this week to make it, I know I am very close . . . and now that we're halfway there I am thinking of all the things I have given up that I used to LOVE . . . so I thought I'd share . . .

1. Semifreddo's Cinnamon Twist Bread (at Trader Joe's or Whole Foods)

2. Safeway Select Strawberry Cheesecake Ice Cream

3. Ghiradelli Chocolates

4. Cheeseburgers & fries

5. Chicken sandwiches from Bakesale Betty's

6. A #6 from Wendy's

7. Powdered doughnuts

8. Taquitos

9. Hot Pastrami Sandwiches

10. Chicken McNuggets

Now I COULD eat these things. But I can tell you that I would not be able to each just one. And it's just not worth it.

Doesn't mean I don't want them though . . .

Consignment Incomplete

As you all know, I cleaned out my closet recently. I got rid of things that were a.) unflattering; b.) repetitive; c.) unworn. One of my friends suggested I try to sell some of the clothes. So during my purge I put the unworn or gently used stuff in one pile and the cheap, overused items in another. This weekend, I looked up a few consignment shops in my area, made a list of 4 that had good Yelp reviews and that accepted non-designer clothes (the most high end label in my closet is probably Ann Taylor). Then I put all my clothes in a suitcase and prepared to spend Saturday afternoon on a consignment quest.

My first destination was Crossroads Trading. When I arrived I was actually pretty impressed (I'll probably go back there to do some shopping - they've got a great shoe collection). I was super nervous and as I pushed the stroller with my son in one hand and lugged my suitcase of clothes in the other, across the street to the store, I hoped that they would at least buy enough clothes to pay for the cost of parking on College Avenue.

What I didn't expect was that they would not accept anything. Why? According to the clerk, in really her nicest voice (no sarcasm) my clothes were "out of date from what they were looking for." Now granted I can accept that considering a lot of items had been purchased in 2008 or earlier. And I certainly was no trendsetter in 2008. But it was so HUMILIATING. I mean I already knew I was fashionably-challenged. But that was the FINAL stamp of it.

I sent a text to my friend telling her about my humiliation. I told her I didn't even want to go to any other stores given my embarrassment - and the waste of parking and gas. She suggested I just donate the rest. And so I did. Including the suitcase.

Sign me up for one of those "What-Not-to-Wear-Oprah's-Big-Makeover-How-to-Look-Better-Naked" shows. Please. I'm serious.