Because it would have been a slap in Baby Jesus' new-born face not to celebrate with some good eats. Maybe Easter?

Well, Christmas has come and gone and I'm not quite 105, or even 110. But I did get pretty close at 112, thanks to a severe cold or flu-type thingie. Thank the Baby Jesus that I've already given myself an extension to the 12th of Never to meet my real goal. I haven't weighed myself in a couple of days, but I'm pretty sure that I've regained the four pounds I lost being sick -- got the appetite back and am still chowing on those little cherry cordial-flavored Kisses (Kurse you Hersheys), plus Christmas Eve, and Day, and Weekend were all quite tasty.

So what now? You don't think I'ma quit now do you? Not when I can continue to vent my every emotion on this blog, I'm not. So the battle of Squidge Ridge continues with some successes and failures along the way. On the whole, I feel and look better than I did when I started this in October -- my muffin top is considerably less muffiny than it was. I'm more of a mini-muffin now.

This week's weight loss plan? Well, so far, I walked 40 minutes on Sunday thanks to Mary B (because I would've stayed in front of the new outdoor fireplace with that glass of wine if she hadn't called), and I've walked to Mary J's house twice today, because I'm obssessed with her fire pit and want to get someone to make me one like it -- I'd walk ten miles for a new somethin-somethin that I want, but won't budge to save my own fat ass. Beyond that? Hmmm. Gonna see some friends tonight and eat/drink and watch a movie. Not so good. Maybe I can do some sit ups or something? I'll work on it. Meanwhile, I may take another Avesil. I couldn't discover their secret ingredient(s), but it does seem to decrease my appetite without bouncing me off the walls. Should have taken some last night before the potluck-fest that included bacon and cheese and all my favorite stuff. Oh, you evil friends, I love you.

Okay, Just took an Avesil with two cordial-Kisses. In case I lose my appetite for them later.

Am I alone here?

Or shouldn't drivers have to NOT be assholes on holidays and holiday-eves? I had to secretly flip off two drivers on my way to get firewood today.

And is it just me, or do other people find it hard to pick gifts for others? Because I don't know what YOU like, but I definitely know what I like, and I'll take two, please. And then when I get a good gift for someone else, I don't want to give it up. I go all Gollum in my head -- "Tracy WANTS the gift. HE/SHE won't like the gift. Tracy NEEEEEEDS it. Tracy should KEEEEEEEP it." Jeri, I know you don't read my blog, so I'm safe in saying, you didn't really want the glass storage containers with cute green lids, and you won't miss them. Now where will I put them?

Gotta run again, 'cuz I have to hit the bank, come up with gifts for some people I forgot I was seeing tonight, and shower and stuff in about 3 hours. I'll be late as usual. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE YOU PEOPLE!!!

Baby steps and baby candy bars....

First of all --Woo Hoo -- 112!!!! Can I get an AMEN? Oh, yeah, laying in bed, eating chocolates, then working round the clock and eating an all leftover-roasted-sweet-potato diet did the trick. (Who, besides Ena, knew that you could lose 4 pounds of just snot?) So all the workin' out stuff? Crap. Speaking of stinking, I've got to go -- the 10th Circuit needs their 60-something page frickin' brief, and I've got to lose 785 words. On the up side, I was more than 4000 words over the limit yesterday. Which is tougher -- losing weight, or losing words? Hard to say. At least I can get rid of the words faster.

Ho, Ho, Ho!

You know that saying about being sick and tired of being sick and tired?

I'm kinda' there. But not too bad -- am getting over the cold/flu/whatever badness that was, except that the snot and clogged ears linger and I'm stressing over a potential right ear infection. Health-wise things are generally improved and I'm sure I'll regain that 3 pounds within a couple of days, especially since I'm REALLY busy with work right now (duh, I'm behind like a week and have a major deadline before Christmas). Haven't even had a long walk since Thanksgiving. Ouch, the Fat is just hanging on the couch eating chips and candy bars. Oh wait, that's me. Dang. Will someone let me know if I start to look like Jaba the Hut from Star Wars? Or Pizza the Hut from Space Balls? Can anyone say New Year's resolution? I'm so beyond my second deadline already. It's totally sad, but not the least bit surprising. Blog you before Christmas.

Zip-a-dee-Doo-Dah...!

113. Seriously. Just get the flu. Wow, I lost 3 whole pounds just by getting sick and turning all my extra fluids into mucus that could be blown out or choked up! Easy-peasy.

So that went well. I got out of bed, and actually made the bed (to prevent any return) and put on sweats today. I did this because I need to work -- I'm like a week and a half behind. So, even though I still feel 70-80% crappy, I'm not dead, and I headed to work. Off I go to my office 30 feet away from my bedroom, and the office computer is dead. Well, fortunately, it was just the monitor, and I've seen this before, so I had a separate monitor in stock. But the whole dead-computer thing required moving all my office files. I wish I could explain to myself, let alone to the rest of the world, how it took me ALL day and half the night to transfer those files. And get the software working on the other computer. Of course I did have to call some IT help to figure out how to get the monitor to work with the dead/blank computer. And then I had to go get new software so that the files would actually work on my other computer. You know, it's not one thing, it's ten or twenty.

But the other computer is up and running and I have no excuse not to be working tomorrow. Plus I've updated/upgraded some stuff -- all good. You've got to check out the latest version of iTunes -- it's got a Home Sharing thing that would have saved my butt years earlier. And lots of cool new features. If my computers didn't go bad every couple of years I'm sure I'd never get stuff updated. But I'm just rambling about nothing now, more than usual even, so I'ma go.

P.S. I plan on feeling well enough for a walk tomorrow.

Notch THIS, Theraflu!

Are the Theraflu people tryin' to piss me off? Cuz I am NOT in the mood. Their "delicious" mucus tea (THEY call it Flu & Chest Congestion, and it tastes nothing like any natural citrus I've ever had, BTW), comes in little foil pouches that you can supposedly open by folding down one corner and then ripping across from some non-existent notch. Supposedly. Okay, I can fold down the corner. I can see the little indentation that is their idea of a notch. But it kind of falls apart from there. I folded and ripped and pulled and tugged with my fingers, and then went right to the traditional act of desperation -- the final step before breaking down and admitting you have to cross the room for some scissors -- ripping at it with my teeth. Nada. I've only tried to open 2 pouches so far, but I'm 0 for 2 on the corner notch thing and I've put a pair of scissors by the microwave. Theraflu: it is NOT nice to mess with sick people. Just put a decent notch in the side of the pouches and let's move on.

So obviously being ill has put a crimp into my little diet/exercise experiment and Christmas is not looking good for invisibility. Being sick's a great excuse to not workout and to eat chocolate and potato chips. But let's be honest, I haven't been doing much since Boot Camp before Thanksgiving. So I think I'm pretty much screwed until 2010. The good news, however, is that I've found a boot camp workout group in my own neighborhood, that works out in the evening (not some ridiculous time in the middle of the night or the middle of the work day), and it doesn't cost a penny.
Yes. So as soon as I'm feeling better and I have some time, I'ma exercise with strangers close to home. Just as soon as I feel better.

Man Down! Man Down!

Okay, I cannot believe the VOLUME of mucus that my one little head, my lungs, and my sinus system can produce and spew. I'm sure if I wasn't blowing and hacking and rinsing every minute day and night, my whole head would have exploded by now. And this isn't even the flu. It's just some stupid cold or bug or whatever. But I got some antibiotics on board this morning, and I'm predicting a slight recovery by tomorrow.

I soldiered through most of the weekend, because it's Christmas, damn it, and shit has to happen. But when I woke up dead this morning and looked at the reality of actually WORKING, I caved and took the antibiotic and some Progresso chicken soup (thank God I bought a case at Costco the other day) and went to bed. And, although I've had brief bouts with the computer/office today, I just was not functional.

And this whole being sick deal might have been a good weight loss technique, were it not for the DIABOLICAL chocolate/candy manufacturers. Hershey's has gone NUTS with the little Kiss. It's not just about holiday-colored foil any more -- they've got candy cane kisses, caramel, almond, dark chocolate, and, my personal fave/new addication, the cherry cordial. OMG, they're just like those cherry cordials I used to sneak at the holidays, but I can eat them in one bite without oozing the center goo all over myself. And then the candy bar people -- who is that Mars? -- they've got these little baby one-bite holiday candy bars that I had to get. And since no one's trick or treatin' for Christmas, guess who's eating most of these things? Yes, when you're really sick, chocolate seems like a good idea.

Next weekend though, I'm right back at it. Mostly. Probably.

Well, they can't all be winners. (Bad Santa.)

So I'm driving home from the annual holiday double feature (The Ref and Badder Santa) and two jackoffs are driving tandem on 7th Avenue at like 35 mph -- the guy on the right is going annoyingly slow and the guy on the left is weaving back and forth all over his lane -- and I'm thinkin', "Shit, we can't ALL be drunk." And I pull into my driveway (finally) and I immediately hear barking from my bay window. Shit. Shit. I know it's not Connor, since he hasn't heard my car pull up for at least two years. And I was hoping it wouldn't be New Dog, because I drew the curtains to keep her out and preserve the Christmas trees and ornaments. Okay, so she understands that she can get in between the drapes even though there are two layers that overlap in the middle. Dang, girl. (She IS pretty smart.) And seriously, did she lie there for 4.5 hours waiting for me to come home? Get a life.

But I think the worst part was the wet spot on the living room rug. When is that F-ing crate arriving? I think she gets so stressed that she drinks a ton of water and then loses bladder control in the excitement of my absence or return or something. Thank God I don't really have to go anywhere for a few days.

And I have a headache from coughing. I cannot wait to go to bed. Yes, I have a cold or virus or something -- I'm temporarily Phlegmish. The queen of Phlegm, in fact, which is why I haven't been blogging. I feel like dirt. Worse than dirt. Walking dirt. But Christmas is coming and I've got shit to do. Today was all about office gifts -- got them pretty much done. Tomorrow is all about getting the cards out, which for me is a huge deal -- we're talking photo holiday cards with me and the critters (I like photos and think they're mandatory for holiday cards), plus last year's Thank You cards that I forgot to send out because I had the flu, plus the Christmas letter, plus the Christmas song/poem, and some extra photos, and then that all gets stuffed into an envelope and mailed to 100 people. Tomorrow, I hope. In between cleaning the kitchen, cutting mom's hair and making jambalaya for 8. Gotta LOVE the holidays. The upside? I'm sick, baby, I don't have t' work out.

Separation anxiety rears its sore pink paws.

Well hell. Crate training advice appreciated. I had to leave again for 3 hours this evening. This dog has apparently never been left alone. After the near-death experience with the Christmas tree full of glass ornaments this morning, I thought I could leave her in the bedroom tonight, just like last night. Oops. I came home to a shredded canvas tote bag (hanging on the back of the door) and millions of little paint flakes all over the floor, because she clawed through 70-80 years of lead paint and some of the wood on the door to try to get out. Will have to repaint the door. And I'm sure if I'd been gone like 6 hours, she would have gone all the way through the door. Her little paws are swollen and red and must be very sore. Tomorrow we go to a pet store for a new collar, a toy or ten to keep her busy, and a little poodle-sized crate. Chew your way out of THAT, girlfriend.

Took my first little diet pill. Am Alice on speed. Okay, Avesil. I only took one, instead of the recommended two, because I'm not used to caffeine, even, and I'm small. I could feel a bit of a hyperactive thing going on and am glad I started slow. Plus, I haven't really read about this as much as I'd like to. It's a bunch of herbs that speed up your metabolism and decrease your appetite. So I can sit in a chair from here to eternity and lose weight. And that's my plan. Okay, not really. I found an EVENING boot camp that is near my home and does not even cost any money. GET OUT! It's a little TGTBT. So I'll definitely have to check it out. Tomorrow. For now, exhausted New Dog with separatation anxiety and I have to get some rest. (I think I might be getting a cold. Uh-oh for the ski trip.)

Dog Day Morning

Okay, New-Dog Day 2.0 is much improved. She's warmed up to me (it's love fo' sho' -- you should have seen the raptures when I came home last night after 2-3 hours at Book Club); Connor's warming up to her; and poor Bella is learning to hide in case New Dog snaps at her again. But ND is really smart. She's already learned not to poop in the house (and I've learned to get her out to poop before 9 am so I don't step in the poop by the front door like yesterday), and to tell me when she needs to go out. This morning went so smoothly, that I left ND and Connor Home Alone without separating them. Yikes. I'm at a Board meeting and am hoping NOT to find blood and guts when I get home. So far, they both seem to be terrified of each other, so I'm optimistic.

Hey I used the New Digital this morning. The ND (the dog, not the scale) weighs 9.2 pounds. And I weigh 115.8 or 117, depending on where I put the scale on the bathroom floor. I'm going with the 115.8, because it was the last number I got and I got it twice. But I should have skipped the bagel with cream cheese schmeared all over it at the meeting -- I haven't exactly been working out. I'm kind of hoping to walk for 30 minutes at some point today, but the odds are not good, given my track record. Sigh. I've got to get back into working out and I don't see how I'm gonna have the time. Oh wait! I'm hiking Saturday morning with Patrick and Ena. So that's good.

And I've got a new weight-loss experiement. I didn't mention it before, but I ordered a 30-day supply of some appetite suppression (I think) pill. All I know is that it will make me skinny without any effort on my part, and according to something I read on the web, it REALLY works and is the BEST thing out there!!! It's called Ave-something. I'll try it starting this afternoon and report back. I'm sure you'll all want some.

Meanwhile, let's name ND something fun. I'm giving her some time to get comfortable so I can figure out what she's really like. She's definitely already more comfy than the first night, since she's sleeping all over my bed and coming over for tummy rubs and stuff. And rubbing herself all over the rugs and furniture -- presumably marking the stuff. (Like it doesn't already reek from two prior cats and the first dog.) I haven't quite figured her out yet, but since poodles are stereotypically French (I think they're actually German water retrieval dogs), I thought an obnoxious French name might be fun. Monica suggested Fifi. Not bad. Also in the running: Babette, Claire, and Zoe. I like Zoe. If I go German, there's Heidi (of course), or Gretel (yech), or __? I'm blankin'. Suggestions welcome.

Gotta go pay some attention to this Board meeting.

UPDATE: New Dog suspiciously enraptured on my return. She REALLY missed me. But little miss Smarty Pants had no trouble finding the bay window up front and moving an entire 4' Christmas tree and smashing one of my favorite ornaments. New possible names = Beelzebub, Demon Seed, Satan's Spawn.

I coulda had a handbag.

Seriously, WHAT was I thinking? I'm sitting here at 2 am watching this little grey poodle sleep at the foot of my bed and wondering (a) WTH was I thinking getting another dog on the spur of the moment, after 1.5 glasses of wine, and right before I leave town for one week? and (b) is that gassy smell coming from her or me? Because if this dog has gas, that's it -- she's goin' back. Of course, it could be me -- I had a lot of bean soup the last two days and there was a little slip up at Safeway yesterday. (Oh, like you've never. I can't believe I post this stuff for the whole world.)

Well, gas issues aside, she's a very sweet dog. And seems to be a lot smarter than either Connor or I. Only negative so far, besides the possible gas, is that she snapped at Bella. But we can work on that -- I mean dogs and cats aren't always best buddies right away, right? Okay, so how did I wind up with another dog I don't need? Well, I blame Jane. See, Jane asked me to donate a purse for the Az Animal Welfare League/SPCA Handbags and Tailwags fundraiser. And then she got me a free ticket. So I go tonight (last night, really), thinking, you know, I'll buy a handbag, some raffle tickets, whatever. Shit. One ten-year-old toy poodle later.... Her name is Baby. And she knows her name and responds to it. She even stays when you tell her "stay." Freaky. It's almost more freaky just that she can hear me, since I'm so used to my old deaf dog. Speaking of whom, I feel really guilty bringing home another dog -- Connor's looking at me like, "Oh, I see, you've got my replacement all lined up. I'll just curl up in a little ball in the far corner until I die." I feel SO guilty, but I'm thinking if I suck up to Connor, maybe he won't be too jealous. Plus he really used to like a dog that looked just like this down the street. So maybe they'll be great companions. We'll see.

Speaking of seeing -- I'm typing this by the light of my new Biobrite sunrise alarm clock. Ooooooooh. I gotta admit, it's pretty cool. I like it a lot so far. But it will definitely be a challenge for it to wake me up in 4.5 hours. I'll let you know how that works. Meanwhile, I'd better put something over my nose and try to get some sleep so I can make peace in the animal kingdom tomorrow.

Son of a Mother of a Storm!

Holy Mother of All Storms!! One umbrella and table went down early in the first quarter. At 11:30 p.m. the power went out and I was awakened from peaceful slumber by the collective final death beep from all my electronics, followed by the dreaded total silence of no power and the sound of HEAVY things flying around the backyard. When I went to investigate I could see the early carnage and am 100% certain of having to spend at least an hour retrieving and pitching damaged market umbrellas and other items from the backyard. Turns out I lost 2 out of 3 of last spring's new blue market umbrellas. Which is precisely why I always buy cheap -- the expensive ones break JUST as easily when blown across the yard. The second one was broken off mid-pole and managing to float (they usually sink rapidly, but I've gotten good at sunken umbrella retrieval) upside down in the deep end of the pool at 11:30 pm and had migrated to the shallow end by the time I got up this morning. (See photo of Connor viewing carnage.) This was a big one -- more wind even than most of the summer monsoons -- up to 74 mph winds. I've never seen one like this in December before. Was a little concerned that the awning would peel off the back patio.

Anyway, the power is still out this morning-- apparently I’m not alone as about 24,0000 to 61,000 (depending on what news report I read) homes remain without power this morning and as many as 250,000 homes were out at some point during the night. Fortunately, my local Starbucks (a happenin' place -- the mayor was just in and a former AZ AG is here now) was untouched and I'm gonna sit here and use their wifi and drink lattes as long as it takes. The radio said that "hopefully," they'd have power back to most homes by noon. Okay, great, but here's what I love -- a little pet peeve. I've lived in this house for almost 20 years now, and I've been through lots of outages. The power almost always goes out when we get any serious wind. BUT, the OTHER side of our street, never looses power. WTF?!! That is SO not fair. I can sit in my dark, cold, gonna-have-to-reset-every-frickin'-piece-of-electronic-equipment house and look across the street to the warm, well-lit homes where my neighbors are sipping hot coffee while watching the news (or Law & Order SVU if it were my house) after a nice warm shower. NOT fair. But I'm over it.

I have to confess -- the one piece of equipment that WAS working in my house this morning didn't get used. Yes, the New Digital (not to mention the Old Spring) scale was workin' just fine, but I chose not to use either one. It's been a tough morning already -- I really don't need to know. And although I didn't formally exercise this morning (which I could have done notwithstanding the big outage), I DID walk to Starbucks, so I should get points for that. TTFN.

Journey to the planet of the bears: "Hey, hey, Boo Boo, this bed feels great!"

Okay, unless apes are hibernators and nobody mentioned it, I must have evolved from bears. I thought it was dark out at 6 am, but let me tell you it is pitch black at 5, and not nearly as bright as it ought to be by 7. I didn't even start to wake up until 7:36 this morning. (After a 5 am bathroom stumble, which is how I know it's REALLY dark then.) My new sunrise alarm clocks better arrive soon, so I can get all my Christmas stuff done. I think I need a really big one -- one that will light up my whole house like Hiroshima.

At least it's not minus 5000 this morning (also known as 44). It was 54 degrees when I got up, so there's a better chance that I'll get dressed and get out and walk or something this morning. Of course it hasn't happened yet and won't while I'm laying in bed blogging about laying in bed, but it could. Guess I'll get up for the big weigh in. I pigged out last night, so maybe I'll be super skinny. Or super fat. RRRRRRRRRRR. 117 point frickin eight. Almost 118. Getting skinny is really hard. I may go back to colon cleansing just to feel better about my numbers for a couple of days. Or maybe I'll look into one of those diet drink products that decrease your appetite. But I think my problem is more that I need to work out and burn calories and get my muscle and metabolism back. Maybe some Red Bull (wings, you know) would do the trick? Bouncing off walls must burn calories. I'm not supposed to have caffeine (fibrocystic), but I'm not sure how else I'ma get my butt moving again. Wow this bed feels good. And I love my soft brown binkie. Wish I was a bear. Plus bears don't have to work, unless you're Smokey, or Yogi, or Boo Boo (hey, they don't just picknick at Jellystone, they're actors). Sadly, I do, so I'd better go. Plus the dog is pawing at the bed, which means he's about to move into a more annoying mode. Okay, now he's barking AND pawing. Better go.

Update: The gods must know I'm in hibernation mode -- it's raining. So of COURSE I can't walk NOW. I'd get wet. Duh.

Christmas makes you feel emotional...

Mah mah mah mah, mah boogie sho-oes. Gonna boogie wit' you. And who DOESN'T like KC and the Sunshine Band? Had a nice drive home from Southern New Mexico (aka North Scottsdale) last night with the Electric Slide (full-on sideways head bobbing required -- apologies to drivers behind me on the 51), Love Machine (serious vocal work going on there) and then the Boogie Shoes, rounded off by More Than a Woman from my BG boys. A fine night of vintage radio work from KOOL FM. Had a great dinner (except for the mostly-alive veal) with Dave Barry, who does NOT look 62, but is just as funny in person as in the paper. Pretty much a stand up gig with food and wine. And I got to hear Scott Turrow speak in the morning. Almost worth driving to another planet for this stuff. Thanks to Mark, who scored us free tickets to these events at the Princess. So when am I going to get my holiday stuff done? Still have to do the letters and write the poem/song (I promised "sayonara cellulite" and I meant it) and get photo cards done, put up trees and decorations, etc. Wow, I'd better get started. I'm just a Love Machine, but I don't work for nobody but you....ooh-ooh Babay.

Hey I'm only 115.6 this morning!! As usual, I do better when I go out and have a good time. Am I burning calories talking and laughing with my friends? What is UP with that? I must just be designed that way. Lucky me. Best not to question. And not to write right now. As Scott Turrow said only yesterday, "I have to write from a place of inspiration." And I'm just not feelin' it right now. A little down with all the stuff I need to get done swimming around in my head. So I'm going to the grocery store to buy green smoothie supplies (I can't even make breakfast with the random crap left in my cupboards -- I think I have a tiny can of mild green chiles, a can of corn, and a giant pan of old stuffing), then I'm gonna blend, and make soup ('cuz it's a chilly 44 this morning), then I must compose the X-mas stuff and work on gifts.... Well you get the idea. Right after I walk the dog -- he's looking very sad and won't let me forget that he didn't get a walk last night. And if there's time, there will be tree decoratin' by the fire. (Hmmmm. Where's the workout in there?) Oh the weather outside is frightful....

Update: Well crap. Not 20 minutes ago I was 115.6. Now I'm 117.8! There MUST be something wrong with my scale -- I didn't gain 2.2 pounds from the little cream of wheat and green tea I had. RRRRRRRRRR. This is NOT fair.

The white flag is creeping up the pole.

So has anyone noticed that I seem to have given up on my goal of losing 10 pounds, or getting down to 105? Just me? Well, I'm kind of prematurely resigned to the thing not happening. I've been trying to be good for like two months now and it isn't working. Not so you'd notice it anyway. So I'm kinda pissed and depressed. And already thinking of a new blog where I can bitch about EVERYTHING, not just trying to lose weight. Oh. I guess I do that now. But I feel like such a loser for not making my goal, or anticipating that I won't make my goal. Hmmm. Do I have the fortitude to do something really drastic to lose more weight before Christmas?

Nah, probably not. Especially since this is the craziest time of the year with ZERO free time. But maybe I'll develop some good habits that will last me a lifetime and result in gradual healthy weight loss.

Mmmmmmmwwwwaaahaaahaaaahaaaaaaa! God, I crack myself up.

Hey, I forgot what I was gonna say!

Okay, this morning I caught an ad for a belt thingie that works your abs electronically while you sit on your ass eating junk food and watching TV. NEED ONE!

And I had some other little tidbit to share, but I forgot what it was. OH! It was my new scheme for waking my ass up earlier. Because if I can wake up earlier and faster, then I have more time to work out, right? Here's the deal. Half of my problem is that it takes me like an hour to wake up. I cannot get up in the dark, so it's usually 7 before I roll over, turn on a light, or stumble to the back door and throw the dog out. Then I have to lie in bed checking email or stretching like a cartoon character for another half hour or more until my eyes and brain can focus enough to get up. What's with that? So I thought I'd institute a new stricter get-my-ass-up policy by purchasing some sort of acceptable alarm clock. (I used to have them, but they somehow disappeared over the years.) So I have settled on something that will do rain and tweeting birds and other stuff that ISN'T a buzzer that makes me want to smack the thing across the room, and will gradually wake me up with LIGHT in the morning. Genius, right? So that's my new plan. (That and that ab workout belt thing.) So I've ordered a cheap version and a more expensive version on Amazon (or I will once the Super Saver free shipping starts to work again), and I'll give you a report later.

Update: Thursday morning. Okay, the Super Saver shipping problem was just my failure to understand that I didn't have qualifiying mdse in my cart. (Oh, like that's never happened to YOU before.) So that got "fixed." And my Biobrite light is already ON ITS WAY to my bedroom.

Tiny blended company for my misery.

A. Mobia. One woman lost 23 pounds in 6 weeks. Obviously I NEED one, but don't have the space. Would a larger house make me skinny? Almost certainly.

B. Blender update. My first/only Amazon disappointment. They were unwilling to open a box and send me a (hopefully unbroken) lid, and offered instead to send A THIRD blender in the same packaging -- packaging that resulted in a broken lid each of the two previous times they mailed one. Oh, what to do. Needless to say, I returned the two busted-lidded blenders and passed up a shot at a third. And, since I wound up standing in the blender aisle at the WalMart in Maryville, MO, I picked up a new Oster with a lid that isn't cheap Chinese plastic. (I'm pretty sure it's cheap Chinese rubber and plastic.) So now I'm blending like MAD with the new blender. BZZZZZZZZZ. It's pretty good. I've got a jar of chunky Kermit in the fridge right now.

C. Gotta go watch National Body Challenge on Fit TV for simultaneous inspiration and feelings of superiority. Hah! Someone else is out of shape and eating wrong. Uh huh!

I gotta admit -- it was the road trip, not the holiday....

Monday morning post-Turkey Day: 119.2 OUCH. I'm back to ground frickin' zero. All that work -- diet, exercise, bitching -- and one stinkin' holiday and a week of not working out and I'm back to about where I was when I started. Damn you turkey and potatoes and delicious stuffing. And Pringles. And pumpkin pie. I like pumpkin pie. Gonna Google an appetite suppressant. And bulimia. Is it too late after 4 days?

Gotta give y'all a mental picture of my trip through the Bible Belt of western Kansas. Why didn't I get the camera out? Then you could have seen for yourself the many wonders of giant billboards warning: "Find Jesus now. Or regret it FOREVER!" in 6-foot tall letters and I'm not kidding with the italics. Someone there feels very sorry for me, because I will CERTAINLY spend my afterlife burning in Hell. I feel sorry for me, because I'm spending my duringlife drinking spinach and edamame and trying to work out unsuccessfully and feeling guilty about it. So basically, I'm already IN Hell. Plus, don't tell Kansas, but I always kind of felt like Hell couldn't be much worse. Maybe that's why they're promoting it -- makes Kansas seem lots more pleasant? Ah, now I've offended my many Kansas friends (like two of you). Believe me, it's not the state itself, which is quite lovely (amber waves of grain and flint hills and all that). No, it's the whole "How dare they teach our kids that Eee-voh-Looo-shun stuff. Everyone knows that GOD created the universe in 6 days." (I think it was 6 days -- I'm obviously not really good with the Bible info, but I seem to remember he rested on the 7th, conveniently Sunday, so we can all go to church). Anyway, I'm sorry Kansas, but I'm glad to be back in Arizona where they are still a bit crazier and more conservative than I'd like (look up the NutJob preacher from Tempe that prays for Obama to die of brain cancer), but at least we get the difference between science and religion for purposes of public schooling.

This morning I was in the 117 range, after a night of turkey casserole and lots of wine (thanks Ena) to go with a post-holiday girls' movie night. But today, as Ena has pointed out, is a good time to start over. (It's like Scarlet O'hara said: "Tomorrow IS another day.") So I've got a clump of dirt in my clenched fist, the sun at my back and I'm renewing my diet/exercise vows: "As Dog is my witness, I WILL be good until Christmas," when I expect to be at least transparent, having given up on total invisibility.

P.S. What happened to my fish? Did no one feed them while I was gone?

Does this road trip make my butt look big?

Two-hour-late 9:20 am departure not a big surprise. And it's a REALLY good thing I Boot Camped my butt last week, because I unBoot Camped it all in one day. Let's see, sat in car for 12 hours moving almost no muscle (except when I tried to change the audio, find my phone headset, and/or work the controls on the seat massager, most of which resulted in dangerous swerves onto the shoulder at 80 mph), ate almost a WHOLE bag of Terra chips, half a large can of Pringles (again, YUMMY taters), 1/4 pound of Raisinettes, an apple (yeah, a fruit, but kind of a joke with the rest of this list), a McD's cheeseburger and fries (hey, the DOG wanted the fries), a green smoothie (that was early, before I started the big road binge), 1/2 cup raw almonds (KIND of good for me), and, because my LaQuinta hotel room is right by Arby's (again, NOT my fault), two regular roast beef sands. SHIT. That's a lot of food even for the old me. The new me is appalled and wants to work out, but I'm REALLY tired and have to drive 11.5 hours again tomorrow. The fun and the food never ends. Maybe I'll be good tomorrow. Tee hee.

Over lots of rivers and through many woods.

Isn't getting out of town a bitch? I was going to leave this morning, but there was just no way to get everything done. I'm operating in full panic mode and still could not get to half the stuff I wanted to do. I mean, I'm running to Target for stuff, visiting mom to drop off stuff, cleaning out the car, doing laundry, installing a new screen and re-hanging the front screen door -- I'm frickin' Wonder Woman without the clear plane, but I STILL can't get everything done. So I didn't get the hair washed and styled, but the DOG got washed. And although I didn't make popcorn for my two-day cross-country journey, I DID get a large can of Pringles to go with the Raisinettes. (What can I say? You know I'm a health nut. It's vegetables -- hello, potatoes, and fruit -- duh, raisins.) The good news is that it's just the dog and I in the car with my audio Jane Austen and Oscar Wilde books for two days. And Connor likes me AND period romances just as much as he likes, say, cat poop (yum) and rolling in freshly-fertilized neighbor yards. Well, he might like some of that stuff better than me, but he's gonna be okay with two days of lounging in the back seat. At least he doesn't have to drive -- I'd trade places with him in a heart beat.

Am debating about making some delicious green smoothness to take in the car tomorrow. Since I can't work out, I'd better consume some spinach and kale, right? Have a feeling that the 7 am start time won't happen either. Will be lucky if I get out of BED by 7 am.

Vacay starts in the A.M. -- am I 92% excited and 8% scared? Or 92% scared and 8% excited?

If I see ONE more frickin' Snuggie ad...

Really, it's like a bunch of pink, blue and leopard monks doin' the wave at a little league game. I can't stand it. And they must be making a fortune off this hideous blanket wear. I know I watch too much late night TV -- I admit it, but do they HAVE to run the Snuggie ad every 15 minutes?

Anyway, I'm done with Boot Camp. And I must admit that I feel and look better, stronger, faster, and even a bit skinnier. I weighed in at 114.8 this morning -- my lowest weight. If I kept this up, I'd be HOT in no time. (For a middle-aged lady.) But I can't keep going, not just because it was a lot of work, but because I also missed a lot of work. This was right in the middle of the morning -- a class designed for soccer moms, with the only alternative the class for psychos who go to bed at 8 p.m. and get up at 4:30 a.m. (aka the middle of my night). So I'm going to have to figure out something that will give me that same kind of work out (it really was a great work out), like 3 days a week, at a reasonable time, near my house. I'm sure I'll work something out. Suggestions welcome. Anyone want to work out with me? We could jog to the park in my hood and do squats and lunges? Yes? Maybe after Thanksgiving.

All right, I'm gonna go Google some more boot camps. There must be one.

'night.

Sucking wind.

Overachieving Anne was back today, throwing off my plans for a coup. It's hard to assume command when you're doubled over trying to breathe and OA Anne is sprinting and kicking her muscular legs like a little pony. A minor set back. And I wound up next to OAA and her 8 pounders again this morning. Spent the hour obssessing about how old Anne and the other boot campers might be. I've convinced myself that Anne is at least 10 years younger than I am, in order to feel better about my inability to (1) jog, (2) jump rope (a skill I didn't think I needed any more), and (3) wear shorts at 9:30 a.m. when it's "chilly" out. I totally suck at all the high-impact stuff. Who knew I couldn't run, or jog, or jump up and down for any length of time? Well, now we all know. But I'm really good at lunges and stuff.

Anyway, boot camp is still sucking, but not as much as I had expected. I think the 5:30 am session REALLY would have sucked ass, and I'm kind of disappointed that I didn't give it a shot. Maybe I'll try that before Christmas.

The incredible shrinking dictator.

I woke up 2 inches shorter this morning. My hamstrings had cramped up until my toes curled like little elf slippers. Am wondering, if I get shorter from all this exercise, will I wind up looking fatter than ever?

And I still feel fat. Why is that? Perhaps it's just this week with Mother Nature, you know? Because I've been eating pretty good. (The sausage in this week's soup is lean turkey sausage, so that's like eating spinach, right? Plus I'm pretty sure that the kale in the soup has negative calories that cancel out the sausage. I should get bonus points for even thinking about eating kale. And I haven't seen a frickin' cookie in like a month.) And I've been working my ass off at the ol' CPBC for two mornings now. I expect to be so cramped up by tomorrow morning that I can't get out of bed. And I don't know what will happen by Friday.

Perky overachieving Anne wasn't at boot camp this morning. So I planned a coup and should be in charge by tomorrow morning. Under my regime, there will be no more high impact crap. All that running? Gone. Jumping? I don't think so. Plyometrics? History. There will be some weights, some really fast walking, and lots of yoga. Ahhh. Heil Tracy!

They'll thank me later.

Boot camp didn't suck nearly as much as I'd hoped.

All right you enquiring minds -- I've finished Boot Camp Day 1 and am sitting here drinking my smooth green apple/banana/kale/spinach/basil/yogurt lunch. Mmmmm. Jealous much?

First, let me just say that I am SO glad I didn't attempt the 5:30 a.m. frickin' middle of the night deal here in Phoenix. Cuz it is dark and cold in the middle of the night (or cold and lonely in the deep dark night, if you're Meatloaf), and I would've bitched up a storm that would have blanketed the whole midwest. If I'd even made it up that early. The trade off was a 27-minute drive to North Phoenix after my green tea. And guess what little park has no bathroom? Yep. So I was borderline bad-attitude right from the get-go, but I thought, Okay, I'll work through it -- maybe I'll forget about it. And I did later, but let's just say that jumping jacks are not what you want to be doing when you're already puffy and pissy and have got to pee on top of it.

I had to wait to assess the class, as my bathroom inquiry put me behind the rest of the class, which had jogged off just as I walked up. The overachievers were easy to spot, running way faster than other people for no good reason. Show offs. (I'm pretty sure I may have to kill "Anne" before the week is over.) Most of the class was in pretty good shape, but there was one large lady and another mid-life lady struggling with her own squidge. I wanted to stand next to the big lady, but she was way over on the other side, so I wound up next to perky overachieving Anne. Anne, with 8 lb weights instead of the puny 5 pounders the rest of us had. Anne, who runs way faster than everyone else and starts over because she's already finished the little course before everyone else. Anne, makin' me feel inadequate on a Monday morning. Something I DON'T need. So we jogged, we jacked, we jogged more, we did lunges and alternated between weights and cardio for an hour and I tried to ignore perky Anne and her 8 pounders with some success. I mean this clearly was NOT Anne's first day.

In the end, it really wasn't that bad. I hate running around until I suck wind (I'm definitely more of a power walker), but otherwise, I kind of liked it. Hey Mikey! So, for those of you waiting for me to piss and moan about Boot Camp, today's not your day! But there's always tomorrow. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. Or Friday. I've got ALL week.

Timing is everything.

So my ass hurts from hiking South Mountain yesterday morning, my back is sore from painting my screen door yesterday afternoon, my head hurts from drinking last night, I'm crabby and bloated because Mother Nature arrived today, and I start my own personal Boot Camp Hell tomorrow morning. Great.

Let me tell you about the weekend. Oh wait, I already did. So we're done, and I'ma get me some green tea. And then pick up a screen door repair kit, exterior black gloss and food for the family, and return to complete painting and other front door improvements. It's another big day! Hopefully I'll get through it okay and make it to boot camp in the a.m. without anything more serious than a big, fat, bad attitude. Wish me luck.

p.s. No news on the blender yet -- although I am optimistic this time -- they didn't automatically ship another busted-ass lidded blender -- they are "looking into" whether or not they can open a box and find a non-busted lid. So Amazon does have people there and they appear to be sentient.

Is Amazon trying to sabotage my skinny?

Because they CERTAINLY don't want me to have my new turbo jet engine blender to make smoother brown and/or green smoothies. I was very excited when my blender arrived (promptly) yesterday morning. I open the box to pull out 600 watts of shiny new smooshing power and, hey, wait a minute -- the cheap plastic lid that goes on the top of the swell glass blending jar is already smooshed. To little bits.

So I go online and go through the internet return/replacement process (which does not allow me to communicate either orally or in ewriting) to let them know what happened. And they very nicely etell me that they're sending a replacement, like instantaneously, and does this solve my problem? I etell them, no, not really, because now we are mailing two identical blenders through the universe unnecessarily, when all I really need is a lid. They erespond with a version of "sorry, we don't have the ability to open the box and just send a lid." So okay, whatever, I can give my mail lady the blender box with the return label. I'll manage. That was yesterday.

This morning, I am pleasantly surprised to find that Amazon has managed to get my replacement blender to my doorstep already. They're good when they want to be. Yippee! I'll be drinking the smoothest greenest smoothies ever by lunch. I open the box. Yep. You guessed it. The lid is almost identically smooshed to bits. Sigh. Someone does not want me to blend.

So I just went through the return/replacement process again. What do you think the chances are that they will (a) find a way to send me just a lid, or (b) send a blender that doesn't have a broke-ass lid? Will I have to return 1, 2, or 3 blenders? Please vote in the comments, as I don't have time to install a poll gadget this morning.

The littlest loser.

Was just thinking, yet again, about how LONG it's going to take me to get rid of this fat. The subQ is EVERYWHERE. So, even though the Squidge is kind of shrinking at the edges (or at least I imagine that to be the case in my more optimistic moments), I've still got plenty of bubble wrap to pop all over my body.

But I have to say I drew fresh inspiration last night from one of my new favorite shows, The Biggest Loser. The lady Loser that got kicked off last night started at almost 500 pounds. FIVE, HUNDRED pounds. And she lost 100 pounds in just 9 weeks!!! Wow -- if I lost that much, I really would be invisible. And in only NINE WEEKS. That's like 11 pounds a week. (Okay, I'm trying to do the math on this -- if she lost 20% of her weight in 9 weeks, that would be like me losing 24 pounds or something. But, of course, I can't really do that, because then I'd be like anorexic or something.) And SHE got kicked off! Granted, these Losers have a lot more fat to spare than I do, and can probably cut back on a few cheeseburgers a day or something, but still.... I saw how hard these guys are working. And this former Loser lady was on Leno later and said she works out...get ready...I couldn't believe it -- FOUR HOURS A DAY six days a week even now that she's off the show, and she's lost like 150 pounds now. Get OUT. That's just crazy.

I was bitching tonight about how all the exercise and blogging has really cut into my free time. I'm such a wuss. I will just have to SUCK IT UP, feel glad I don't have several hundred pounds to lose, and think LONG term. I mean, how many years did it take me to get this way? At least 3 years, I think. So it's kind of silly (but way fun) to expect it all to come off in a few weeks. I think this boot camp deal next week ought to give me a big kick in the stretchie pants. Right?

Green-eyed monster.

Hey, success! I made a green one! My green smoothie was actually minty green tonight. :-) I'm not cookin' with no gas now.

I guess the cherries must have moved me into the brown range last night. Tonight I emphasized banana, kept some apple, added yogurt, spinach (naturally), and then added a kick with some basil from the yard (I'm SO freakin' green). And it occurs to me that I have a buttload of mint out back. So BRING IT nasty salad diet -- I have found a way to avoid hours of chopping and choking on dry spinach leaves. I wonder if some feta would be good in my liquid salads? Mmmmmmmaybe not. Guess I'll have to have my feta on the side.

And will my friends freak out if I serve them liquid salad next Sunday? "Here you go! Bottoms up! Enjoy!" I gotta think it would be worth it just to see their faces. :::::-----))))) (Starting new trend with multi-smilies.)

I brie-slid a bit. Hey, do they make a diet brie?

Oops. Didn't read the calorie count on the package of brie before I ate about 3-4 inches worth. Yikes -- like 100 calories per square inch. In my own defense, however, I bought the brie at some point early in my diet experiment, back when I thought the pounds would be melting away and I'd be back on my bacon and brie diet in no time. And it's not like I can just throw it away, because that would be WASTEFUL. Plus, it was lookin' at me funny. And softly calling to me every time I opened the cheese drawer to pull out the nearby soy "cheese:" "Tracy, don't you LIKE me? Don't you WANT me? I'm so rich, so creamy, so French!" Sigh. Frickin' French cheese. Rut-roh -- just remembered I forgot to check the calories in the Garlic Roasted Triscuits I used as a vehicle for brie consumption. Sh!T.

Well, I'm gonna go work out now. And see when my new jet turbo blender will arrive to squish more nasty green stuff into a chunky brown health drink. Mmmmmmmm. Maybe I'll do some crunches too. Rrrrrrrrrrr.

Wow, I coulda' had a BS! And I did.

Are the numbers really important? You may notice that I have been quiet about the stinkin' scale lately. That's because it hasn't really been moving much from the 116 area. I'd like to think that all this workin' out is giving me loads of steely muscle. You just can't see it yet, because it's still under the subcutaneous fat. Abs and buns of fat-covered steel.

Anyway, I had another pleasant weekend. Not the Pleasant Peppermint kind -- that gave me an upset tummy last time I used it, so I'm avoiding it -- my colon's clean enough for now. Just a nice relaxing weekend with time for working out and eating and drinking with friends. But I forgot to mention that, before tasting my feet at happy hour on Friday, I learned of the "green smoothie." Hmmm. Supposedly some concoction with spinach and bananas. Now I like spinach. And I like bananas. But I'm really not sure that I'll like them whirled together into something I have to drink.

Well, slap me silly. Did the old BloGoogle, and apparently I have been left out of the green smoothie revolution: there is a greensmoothiegirl (who has like 230 recipes, books, videos, and a blog, and promises not only better skin and hair, but also better sex, not that I'll be able to compare), a greensmoothiequeen (who has all that stuff plus a green smoothie bottle you can buy), a GS .com, a GS challenge, and even a GS revolution on the web. Wow, where to start? I think I'll start with a recipe or two and then graduate to a youtube video. All right. A GS is basically just salad in the blender (good news -- I can eat this right into my 90s!): 60% any fruit (I have apples and bananas right now -- too bad I ate all the mango) and 40% green stuff (Hello Big Bag of Spinach and home grown bell peppers that I need to use up). So, do I dive right in, or do more research? Okay, am chicken and will be right back. I'm back. God, it all sounds so nasty, I'm afraid to try it. But have decided I can't screw up the basic "recipe" of green stuff and fruit to hide the taste of the green stuff, and since I'm going with what I've got on hand anyway, I'm just gonna get out the Magic Bullet and give it a shot.

[Green smoothie first-attempt break.]

Eureka! I have, appropriately, created BS -- the brown smoothie. My proprietary blend (in case you want this deliciousness in your own home) is most of an apple, a handful of baby spinach, half of one of my very small green bell peppers, one frozen banana, some frozen cherries I forgot I had, some ground flax seed, some coconut oil, and water to fill my Magic Bullet and help it all mix up. Hmmmm. It doesn't taste bad -- mostly just like ground up apple. But I gotta say, it LOOKS like something a very very large cat coughed up. And, let me tell you, putting it in a fancy wine glass makes no difference -- it looks like barf in a fancy wine glass and tastes like ground up apple. I can see why you might need an opaque green bottle to hide this from yourself while you're drinking it.

Well, I may try this again, as it is better for me than a glass of red/white/brown wine, doesn't taste bad, eliminates any need for cooking skills OR salads, is portable, and is easier to clean up than the Jack LaLane juicer I bought a few years ago (don't get me started on all the infommercial stuff I've purchased-- I'm game for anything with a good pitch). So, all-in-all, I give the BS an 8, mostly for ease of sneaky veggie consumption (I'ma try the soy beans I've got in the freezer). I posted a picture -- I didn't think to take one until I'd already thinned it out with cranberry juice, so it's more red and less brown, but you get the idea.

And P.S. couldn't I just have a frickin' V8?

P.P.S I ordered a new blender with a countertop-size, turbo jet engine. So I will be making BS like a mofo. Once it arrives.