Krissie: Frustration

Is it going to be one of those weeks? I am so not in the mood.
Yesterday I woke up at 5 something and couldn’t sleep any more. So I dragged my butt out of bed, did the blog and played on the internet, and then decided, hell, I’ll go swimming before I do anything else. Not only do I need to swim because my body needs it, but I need it for brainstorming. Waterwalking for an hour does wonders for my writing.
So I trundle into the car and drive forty minutes to the pool in the pouring rain. Now the pool is at a private and public high school. And guess who was holding graduation? And guess whose pool was closed?
So I filled the car with gas, bought a cup of coffee (I don’t drink much coffee) and drove home, still in the pouring rain. Was feeling punchy so gave Richie the rest of the coffee and went to bed, could barely manage to sleep, and rose in a funk (a sleep funk, not a depressed funk).
I keep forgetting to set the oatmeal, and I decided I needed some. I had a box of McCann’s fast steel cut oatmeal, so I poured 1/4 c. in a bowl with 3/4 c. water and put it in the microwave. Opened the door to stir it and found oatmeal all over the microwave. With cries of despair I pulled it out, mopped up all the oatmeal and, undaunted, I started again, this time with a big-ass bowl that could hold it. Put the same amount in, opened the door at halfway point and found it only slightly slopped over the sides. Okay. Stirred it, put it back in. Pulled it out when it was supposed to be ready and found oatmeal sludge. Ate it anyway.
Went to my BFF’s and decided I was too tired to write. Wrote a couple of pages anyway, but I’ve been heading in the wrong direction. Fortunately I have two very smart sisters. So I’ll brainstorm with them tonight and we will Fix This Book. And I will Love This Book. It’s just taking a little time to shift gears, and my focus is all over the place.
Which isn’t surprising, given the emotional upheaval in my life. I see my shrink on Thursday and I only have an hour. I don’t think that’s enough time.
Losing my son’s relationship is vast enough. Yes, I know I get to keep a relationship with my grandson and Erin, but it’s been irrevocably changed. They’re not a family unit any more, and that family unit was part of my family unit. So something’s been torn away from me, and I have to deal with it.
Plus my daughter, who was always so close to me, is annoyed with me and distant and in many ways that’s a good thing. Children have to make their own way, and it’s past time she did. But I have to work through that, figure out what part of my reactions are reasonable and what aren’t.
Then there’s the fact that I might stab my sister-in-law, who has arrived in town to squat for most of June. I’ll tell you about that some other time, once it’s clear we don’t have to sue her ass. Or stab it.
Plus there’s something going on with Richie in regards to said evil SIL, and I have to figure out how to best approach it. After all, he loves his sister, pain in the ass though she is. Hell, I’m very fond of her too when I don’t want to kill her. And he’s terribly afraid he’s going to lose her.
Which I can understand. But you can’t lay down and let people bully you. Where’s my knife?
But I digress.
So. The oatmeal. So yesterday I then decided screw it, I’d just crockpot it during the day (how’s that for a verb?). Sprayed the crockpot with Pam, then found I had only a small amount of oats. Went out shopping and found Richie had put the crockpot in the sink and filled it with soapy water because he thought it was greasy.
So. Last night I washed the crockpot again, sprayed it, put the oatmeal and the water in, turned it on and went to bed.
Woke up this morning to find a crockpot full of water and slightly cooked oatmeal.
Clearly God doesn’t want me to eat oatmeal.
I have no idea why the world wants to frustrate me. And it better stop. I have too much on my plate (except for oatmeal) to deal with roadblocks wherever I turn.
Plus I’m eating too much. Gotta stop that. All good things — I went by McDonalds twice yesterday in a frustrated, tired mood and considered whether I should relax my ban. Decided no McDonalds.
But hey, they have oatmeal!

Krissie: Another Day, Another Dollar


I’m keeping up with the daily photos because it’s kind of a statement. As Crusie says, Photobooth is terribly unflattering. Plus the lighting is bad (those swirly-ecological bulbs) and I sit here first thing in the morning, face unwashed, hair unbrushed, usually in my jammies. It keeps me honest. And it keeps me from getting too vain. It’s sort of like saying, this is me, warts and all. I’m here to be honest, not prettified.
I got through the tough day yesterday. Funny, how anniversaries can pass and we pay tribute and move on, and then others just kneecap us. Yesterday it kneecapped both me and my niece (though my falling apart may have made hers worse). Still, it’s good to cry. To remember. And then to move on, with love.
So …
I didn’t get on the scale this morning — figure I’ll ignore it for a week while I eat well and exercise and give NettieD her due. I may measure myself though. Many of my bras are getting way too big, I’m having to fix the straps and move the hooks in on the ones that aren’t made for honeydews. I’m more cantaloupe size right now. But my pants are looser, not just around the waist but around the legs. All these usual signs of loosing weight, when I haven’t gotten to that point in as long as I can remember.
It’s kind of unbelievable that all these clothes are going to fit, are going to be too big. In fact, it’s probably just as well not to focus on it, but take it one day at a time, eating well.
I finally figured out the best way to make steel-cut oatmeal — the crockpot. I cooked a shitload overnight, have it stored in the refrigerator and I can scoop out some and nuke it. I’ve been having it with splenda brown sugar mix and frozen raspberries, which thaw in the hot oatmeal, and it’s divine. I’m measuring (1 cup of cooked oatmeal, but it was soooo good). 2 cups of whole wheat spaghetti last night. Both of which may be too high an amount but if I count and pay attention to the other things it’ll be okay.
And damn, did I buy veggies last night. Tons and tons and tons. (Plus our home-made spaghetti sauce is mega-veggie).
So, I think I need to add a little protein to breakfast, which I can do with almonds, and veggies for lunch. That should be easy enough to do. I’m going to make up a bunch of mini-salads the way Crusie did (she bought me a set of the bowls to do it with) so I can always grab one of those with lunch. If not that, then nuke something, have half and give Richie the other half to thicken up his Healthy Request soup that he has most days.
Oh, and someone mentioned soup, glorious soup. I’m going to be making more soups. I dug out a great soup cookbook I bought but unfortunately every recipe called for 2 cups of heavy cream. Whoever heard of putting heavy cream in fish chowder? Chowders have milk in them — they’re not cream soups. Tsk tsk.
But I love bean soups. And non-cream chowders. And I had the most divine chicken gumbo on the way back from Syracuse.
So it’s time to make soup.
And I worked my ass off in the pool. Physical therapy (and I found that one thing I was doing, swinging my leg back and forth, was hurting my back. I should only be moving it forward). I did their stuff and then I did my stuff and I ended up working out for and hour and 45 minutes. Damn, I was tired! But it felt good.
When I water walk I think about stories. I plot out stuff, daydream about characters and backstory and scenes, and I sort of hate to stop, it’s so much fun. Which is why I worked for so long yesterday — I was in the midst of a good daydream and didn’t want to leave it. It’s the sort of thing I used to do when I went driving. Great to know that it works even better when I’m water walking. Now when I need to work something out I won’t go on a shopping expedition, I’ll go to the pool. At least most of the time.
Hey, a girl can’t be perfect.
So I’m ready to charge ahead. The scale really is my friend, because it gives me a wake-up call when I’ve gotten sloppy. I know that it doesn’t work for everyone — it can be tyrannical and destructive. For me it’s a tap on the shoulder to remind me to pay attention. At this point in the getting healthy game I can’t afford to trust my instincts. I need to be very careful on amounts, no matter how healthy.
I get my grandson today! And as I probably mentioned, the roller coaster with my son is leveling out, at least for now. I love my little boys so much, my nephew, my brother, my son, my grandson. Even my father was my little boy too, since in alcoholic families the roles are often reversed.
I remember the lost ones with love, and love the ones who are here with a fierce passion. I just have to remember to give them some space.
So life here at Squalor Holler is good. Once more, dear friends unto the breach! Breech? Beach? That sounds like a lot more fun. Once more, dear friends, unto the beach!

Krissie: New Yawk

I’m here. Having a lovely time so far. Adorable hotel room with a river view, exquisite day, excellent meeting with my agents. I’ve eaten too much, but then I’ve walked a whole lot, so maybe it’s okay.
So far I had a breakfast bar, then plain oatmeal with fresh strawberries, then a chopped salad with chicken with water, then a cup of green tea at Macy’s, because I had to sit down, and a bowl of French onion soup. I didn’t eat the topping, but there was still cheese in the broth. But you know, maybe that’s not that bad. I bought some fresh fruit at Macy’s as well and brought that back to the hotel room, where I’ve been trying to get on-line for an hour. But suddenly it worked, and life is good.
I’ll skip dinner since the theatre starts at 7, and then grab something on the way back. There’s a Hale and Hearty one block over, some Japanese places within a block, and a good coffee shop in the hotel. Depends whether I can get a taxi back after the show, which is questionable, but I’d only have to walk 10 blocks. And then I’m going to take the first bath I’ve taken in centuries, because they have a huge, old-fashioned bathroom. Heaven! Continue reading