Well the other day I had a revelation. Of course, this thought isn’t new to me. However it hit me so hard the other day, I was stopped in my tracks.

I need to get control. Not over people. Not over things out of my control. But with things that are 100% in my control.

• spending – I buy whatever I want, without any thought to cost
• eating out – I eat out most days for lunch and several nights a week for dinner (this doesn’t help my calorie intake or my spending)
• imbibing – I drink frequently (1-2+ glasses of wine every night!)

These are all things I have set limits on before and done successfully. But for some reason they all feel like they have spun out of control recently.

And by losing control over these things, I seem to have gained everything (mostly bank fees and weight). I don’t want those things!

So here’s to getting a grip on my life. And I started last night…by eating homemade, healthy soup (Don’t freak out. Yes I cooked!  And yes it was fabulous.), skipping wine and not spending money to eat out.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I plan to still eat, drink wine and spend. But in moderation. For example, I don’t need to have a glass of wine EVERY night. I can drink it several times a week and still feel okay. I also plan to still spend money. I make it. I can spend it. But I need to put some limits on how much I spend. I have lofty long term goals, like living as a rich person when I retire, and this takes some restraint now. I plan to eat out, but not everyday at lunch and most nights at dinner. I will force myself to cook at home and/or bring a lunch to work.

Wish me luck!

What things do you have to limit in your life?

Because when you order take out and you ask for extra spice, you will get this:

FOUR HUGE CONTAINERS OF RICE! And when I say huge, I mean it. I swear each one was stuffed full and weighed five pounds.

Clearly the order taker heard “we’d like extra rice” versus the intended “we’d like extra spice”.

So blame me if crazy things happen that can be traced back to the price of rice in China. And please, don’t tell Dr. Atkins what’s in my fridge. He’d have a heart attack.

Elle followed my (sporadic) tradition of including a note on a napkin. Today she did this while I wasn’t looking and stuffed it into my lunch bag.

She makes my heart smile. Every damn day. So full of unconditional love.

Here are my thoughts in return: Dear Elle, thanks for teaching me that you can never give enough love, hugs and kisses everyday to the loved ones in your life.

Please notice the SDSU lunch bag…that conveniently fits a six pack of beer inside. I know, I used it for something way less fun. Except that sugar free pudding. That stuff must have crack in it. And the berries are divine too. Off to get my fix.

I was having lunch with some friends yesterday and one of them mentioned chicken nuggets. (We were NOT eating at a place that served chicken nuggets.)

This has always been something that bothers me. “Chickens don’t have nuggets!”, I said.

One of the people at the table assumed I was talking dirty and was using the term nuggets for balls. I wasn’t. I had to convince him I wasn’t talking dirty. So I gave him another example of make believe food….

Buffalo wings!

After lunch was over, I couldn’t stop thinking about this. Why is there food named after fake parts? As in, you want some pork buttons or beef thumbs?

This makes me crazy. Eating wings does not.

Last night I was surprised when Elle decided to pull out her journal from a few years back. She’s 10 now, so she would have been 8 years old when she wrote it.

She decided to read something out loud to me.

Elle’s journal entry:

It states:

Last night my mom made the best dinner and she is not a chef at all. She made chicken, carrots, and potatoes. It was like my dad made it and he’s a chef. YUM!

I DON’T BELIEVE IT!

If I *must* cook, it’s rarely good enough for a journal entry. This makes me think Elle exaggerated. By exaggerated, I mean lied.

But I really think this story is a lie because I HATE COOKED CARROTS. I’d never make them as part of a meal.

I think I found the way to live life to the fullest. It involves Jello shots. In fact the entire plan revolves around them. Here’s how I’m doing it:

• Eat jello shots. Shut up, jello is food. In fact, jello shots are food and alcohol mixed.
• Carve cooking out of my life since I will skip all real food and replace it with Jello shots. This is helpful since I don’t cook.
• Have a constant buzz. Easy to do when I’m not eating real food.
• Enjoy long nails and healthy hair. Jello has gelatin in it which is great for nails and hair.
• Drop any extra weight. Hell, Jello shots are portion controlled. And I think I could even use sugar free which has no calories. Obviously I’d double up on the alcohol since I need calories to survive. Duh.
• I’d never be hungry. Mainly because I could eat anywhere since these little molds travel well.
• I’d be more environmentally friendly by never using my dishwasher. I wouldn’t be using any silverware or dishes. Just those little paper/plastic cups. Fine, I use the recycled ones.
• I will have a lot more disposable income since I won’t need to eat out anymore.

That's me passing out this life changing tidbit at a party. J-E-L-L-O shots!

Here I am after enjoying these tasty treats along with my partner in crime, @h0neyb (Melissa). We had too much fun!

(Second photo is really small and I have no idea why.)

Wino Wednesday…this weekly feature is designed to share my wine alcohol related stories.

Except when it happens at an Indian restaurant.

At least that’s what I realized while dining on Indian food. I have been craving this stuff for weeks. Finally, a friend and I made plans to go last night.

I had on my “I’m feeling slightly puffy” uniform. This one consists of awesome leather boots, skinny leg jeans, a tight tank and a comfy, cozy, soft, long sweater. This combination holds me in and covers me up. It also allows me to eat lots of food.

I’m not the girl that has fat days. Well I do. But I rarely mention it. Mainly because I realize I’m the only one who notices and I don’t want the reassurance from others. Because saying I’m fat, bloated, puffy, enormous, etc will only cause others to say, “No you’re not, you look great…blah blah blah.”

Well, our waiter at the Indian food restaurant was really helpful with me. He was ultra attentive. Aside from the food being amazing, he had my wine glass filled, my plates cleared, my water topped off all night long all with a huge smile and cheerful banter. Basically he was treating me like a celebrity. I was on to him, he was worshipping me.

Then I realized why. He thought I was a cow.

Don’t Indians worship cows?

Bastard.

I love bananas. If I could make it to the grocery store more often and keep these yellow things stocked in my house, I’d probably eat one everyday. But I learned the real reason my body craves them.

It’s a cure. For a hangover.

Photo provided by the HowStuffWorks website.

Eating bananas the morning after a night of heavy drinking provides lost electrolytes like any food would, but it also specifically replenishes the potassium lost to alcohol’s diuretic effect. Other potassium-rich foods such as kiwi fruit or sports drinks work just as well.

The above insert was found on an online article titled, How Hangovers Work (full article). Helpful tidbits for you drinkers. Really helpful.

Here’s my dilemma. The picture below illustrates precisely the reason this cure is awkward or uncomforable.

Quite frankly eating bananas resembles something else…

Photo provided by Porn SFW

Scroll through the website if you’re into that stuff. And yes, it is safe for work. It’s a site that “cleans up” porn shots and it may make you laugh.

Wino Wednesday…this weekly feature is designed to share my wine alcohol related stories.

But I would NEVER expect a restaurant to go through the pain and expense to keep hair out of food like this one did.

Poor little shrimp.

I had no idea shrimp had hair. But I’ve never looked at a shrimp naked. Well, I have but it was a guy who was, uhm sma…nevermind.

Am I the only one who automatically thinks of waxes when I hear or see the word Brazilian?

For example, I’ll eat a full meal. Then I’ll let some time pass. And by time, I mean minutes, like under an hour. Then I’m ready to feast again. Holy fuck. I’m going to be as wide as I am tall pretty soon.

I’m convinced I”m going through a growth spurt. That’s really the only explanation I have for eating this way. Sadly, the growth spurt is likely associated with the size of my ass. It’ll grow. Trust me.

Here’s how I’m coping with my increased appetite:

• First, I’m only eating candy that is for individual sale. You know, like Halloween candy that has only 4 Milk Duds in a package. These candies don’t list any nutritional information on the package. Nope. None. Therefore, I don’t think they have enough calories to count. I LOVE HEALTHY CANDY!
• Next, I’m not skipping meals anymore. They say you should eat several meals everyday to keep your metabolism up. Well, let me tell you….I’m eating several FULL meals everyday. My appetite will force me to eat more often therefore causing me to increase my metabolism and become effortlessly skinny.
• I’m skipping training sessions with my trainer. When this happens I still pay her. Therefore, I’m finding myself with less money in my pocket to spend on food. Oh fuck it. This isn’t working. I don’t budget. This tactic only causes me to have less money but more free time. Hey, time is money. Therefore this plan is good for my pocketbook in the end.

So here’s to an increased appetite. I gotta run. There are Cheetos in my desk drawer that are calling my name.

Dear trainer: if you read this…Rob gave me the Cheetos. He probably forced me to eat them too. And the Halloween candy really didn’t have nutritional values listed which explains whey they won’t show up on my food log.

Well, she didn’t say die but she did mention osteoporosis. And being all bent over because your bones won’t stand up is as bad as being dead. Nobody likes bad posture, it is just not slimming.

She told me I need more calcium in my diet. I defended myself by saying that’s why I order cheese on my burger. She rolled her eyes.

She told me I need to work out more. I rolled my eyes and explained how exhausting it was already to do a few days each week with her. She agreed (that I’m exhausting!).

She told me that my calorie intake is perfect BUT 30% of my calories are super bad and come from wine and alcohol. I reminded her that I skip dinner in order to accomplish this. She should be proud, right?

She told me to quit complaining and just do the work out. I told her I was bored. She is meeting me at the park today, instead of the gym, to change our scenery.

My trainer has driven me to: stand up straight, order cheese on my burgers, work out only when I’m with her, skip dinner and drink alcohol, go to the park.

She’s the best driver in my life!

Stresser: Subsequent Upside

Boobs seemed to have grown a size overnight causing my standard black dress to be snug on top: Makes my waist look super tiny.

Forgot to eat breakfast: Eating Cheetos for breakfast totally guilt free. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and that’s all I had in my office.

Rush to get out the door today: See above upside.

My to-do list at work is HUGE and growing: I have a job.

Need to respond to an email my ex sent me: He’s my ex.

I have a business lunch I’m not prepared for: It’s an expensed lunch.

Cancelled my session with my trainer tonight: Booked a 90 minute massage instead.

My feet hurt in my heels as soon as I put them on, but only when I walk: I have feet and I can walk (yay, two upsides!).

Worried that eating all these Cheetos will make me fat: I can blame the person who gave them to me as a gift. And call him a bastard for making me fat.

Enough. I’ve go plenty to be happy about. If I keep telling myself that, my mood will change, right? Maybe I’ll just quietly get through the day and come back tomorrow all fucking happy.

Carry on with your day people. Hugs and love and all that shit!

My dinner on  Saturday night:

And while spaghetti may seem elementary, the sauce was made from scratch. Elle, my 10 year old, and I experimented instead doing the usual…popping open a jar of vodka sauce.

It was good. It involved sauteed onions and garlic, Italian seasoning, a can of tomato sauce, tomato paste, cream cheese, beef broth and milk. The last few ingredients were in an attempt to save what we started. And it worked.

Honestly, it sucked at first so we scrambled to find ingredients in the house to use. (Side note: I need to go to the grocery store. We had very few options to throw in.) And by sucked I mean it tasted like Chef Boyardee Spaghetti O’s. Elle was smart enough to be resourceful and read the ingredients in our jarred sauce to think of ideas. Without her, I’d starve get sick of apples and peanut butter.

So don’t go sending me fancy cookbooks. I’m not ready for that step. Plus after eating in so much this weekend, I’m ready to explore the restaurant scene again. Clearly that means, “Watch out Porcupine, here we come!”

Upside: Cooking with Elle was fun. I’d categorized that as some good quality time together.

If you don’t cook, you won’t use stuff in your pantry. You will, however, continue to buy food every week. This will require you to throw away tons of food.

I haven’t done a really good deep cleaning of my pantry…until now. Sure I’ve thrown out stuff. Sure I’ve donated canned items for various canned food drives. Sure I’ve moved stuff around. But not a real deep cleaning which involves looking at expiration dates, tossing tins of almonds when only a few are left in a container full of salt, realizing that I’ll never finish that box of chocolates because I hate fruity cream centers.)

Who knew SO MUCH food in the pantry gets stale? I found “best by” dates as old as 2003.

I got rid of all this. THREE BAGS!  All super full.

And now it looks like this:

Notice it’s still full. Notice I still don’t cook.

Side note: Does a 2 lb unopened tin of shortbread cookies ever get old? And vinegar, does that ever expire? I’ll probably never touch either of them, however I kept both. You never know when a shortbread cookie vinegar dipping guest might show up.

We all have projects that aren’t complete, right? Like those projects at work that are “on the back burner”. Or the back piece that is not on the reupholstered chair. Or the empty photo album with pictures sitting next to it. Or the teak furniture on my deck that still needs to be stained, but it’s already the end of summer.

Okay whatever. I’m lame. I haven’t finished any of those things.

And I have another thing I must add to the list. Something I fail at ALL of the time.

Being bulimic.

I suck at it. I do it half assed EVERY-FUCKING-TIME! I’m the master at eating, aka as bingeing. But I fail miserably at purging. EVERY-FUCKING-TIME!

So, this is the thing. It’s okay to be half assed. Some projects aren’t worth finishing. That chair I partially reupholstered sits up against a wall and nobody can see the back. Who fucking cares? Finishing the photo album is dumb since photos now are all digital. They’ll never make it to an album. Teak wood on my deck…there’s always next summer.

There is clearly a time when doing something half assed is good. Another example, my huge Thai food dinner. Delightful. I hate to waste it. Plus I LOVE to smile. And I hear bulimia fucks up your teeth.

Kids, the message here…it’s okay to do things half assed. It saves your time, your energy, your money wasted on food/wine and your fucking teeth.

Side note: Bulimia is a serious eating disorder. I don’t suffer from it. Nor do I condone it. Again, it fucks up your teeth and wastes food/wine. If you have it, get help. It’s bad. People die.