Alcohol is not the means to a better marriage

So I'm drunk. At least, I'm pretty sure I am. Anyone else, they might have more evidence on their blog of drunkeness. I'm too proud to show it. Plus, when I'm too drunk to type I'm probably too drunk to be upright or concious. I'm looking at the last word of the last sentence and thinking it looks mispelled.

Sex is still a disappointment while drunk. While I'm more interested in it while lubricated with alcohol, it still is just as effective as normal- namely, just about no sensation. Is that a reason to get divorced, crappy sex? And actually, I'm only more interested in it with my husband while drunk, so I guess that's a bad sigh. Grrrr.

Too smart

My husband should have married someone stupider.

He does this thing, when asked a question that he doesn't want to answer, where he rambles off on tangents and then acts like he's answered my question and I'm stupid to not have realized it. Granted, it also tends to ramble off on tangents even when he has no particular issue with the question, but that's just him. The man would drive the administrator of a lie detector test insane because of his inability to answer yes/no questions with either a yes or a no.

He's decided to build himself a new computer. OK, fine, whatever, I just don't care anymore. Today the case for it arrived, a big shiny thing with multiple fans, a clear side, a shiny door with a 'cool' look, and the capability to be taken completely apart. I asked, why does he need a new case. It's not as if there's anything wrong with the old one. He rambled on and on about how he needs a new case because he's building a new computer. But since he's planning to recycle parts from the old one, why is the new case necessary? He then started saying he needs it because he's giving me his old motherboard and processor. Again, nice, but why does he need a new case? The question was never answered.

Later in the evening he put his arms around me and asked why I'm not mad that he's buying himself parts for a new computer. I've gotten angry at him before because he yells at me that I should get a job because we're poor, then goes off and buys himself completely unnecessary and luxurious toys. Meanwhile, I'm clipping coupons and buying myself only what I consider to be fairly necessary. Fun, huh? I gave him the answer that's true: I just don't care anymore. I feel emotionally dead to a lot of what he does now.

As I thought about it, though, I started to get a little angry. He thought something was going to upset me, and he went and did it anyway and gleefully watched for me to snap at him. He only thought something was wrong when I didn't get angry. To me, getting angry means something is wrong. I don't like being angry, but unfortunately it only gets through to Rob that I'm upset if I'm either shrieking, yelling or crying. I don't like doing either three and would prefer to discuss things calmly, but when I do that he doesn't take it seriously. So to actually deliberately provoke my anger? Unacceptable.

I finally figured out why he ordered a new case: it is unnecessary. He just wanted a fun toy to play with, a cool case that he can take apart and put back together and generally feel special for having. I told him this and he admitted it. I just wish he would have answered my question straight in the first place. That irritates me more than him actually buying the damn thing. That, and trying to provoke me. As I said, he needs a stupider wife.

Bye bye friend

How do you know when to just drop a friendship? I am so bad at making and keeping friends. Somehow, unless I have a reason to see somebody, like class or work, I never keep in touch. It isn't all my fault, either. I try to ask people to do things with me, to come over for a party, stuff like that. It doesn't happen. I can only assume the problem is me, since other people don't have the issue with this that I do.

Recently I email a friend who I haven't seen in a long time. Actually, she was the maid of honor at my wedding and someone who I was very close to for a couple of years, probably because we worked together. Anyway, I said I missed her and would like to get together, maybe for lunch or coffee or something. She emailed back, saying she missed me too and would like to get together. When? So I emailed her again, saying that my schedule was open because I'm currently unemployed and to let me know when is best for her. She never emailed back. A week later I emailed her, saying my schedule had changed and that Saturdays were bad for me. Still haven't heard a thing.

Maybe I should have replied with a specific date and time, instead of leaving it open-ended for her convenience. But when I do that, I sometimes get cancelled on. Also, is it really a friendship if you have to do all the work of getting together? Right now I'm just on the lookout for people who I can do things with, people with whom I have things in common. I know part of the problem is that Rob and I have been attached at the hip for so long, but I didn't hang out with friends a lot either before I started dating him. If I do manage to hang out more with friends, it might help with our marriage and the fact that I feel like I see Rob far too much.

Marriage future

Tonight I flat-out asked my husband if he's afraid I'll leave him if I lose weight and become more attractive. My response was that my size wouldn't matter if I was going to leave. I don't think it reassured him much. However, it does explain why he used to sabotage my diet efforts.

I also laid out my plans for the future. I have a line on a job that I really hope I get. As a friend said, I can't really judge my marriage when our lives have been full of upheaval for the last year. I also think I can't fairly judge when I'm not employed. Part of my issue is how Rob has been treating me because he thinks I'm mooching off of him. It's not right, how he's been, but it's an easy fix too.

Once I have a job, I'll ask for marriage counseling. When I asked for it before, he said "We don't need counseling. Our problem is that you don't have a job." Him actually saying that hurt and shocked me so badly that I couldn't say anything. He now says he doesn't remember saying it. But if he doesn't have anything big to complain about and have as a reason for a dismissive attitude (although it's definitely not an excuse for his attitude), then I can judge fairly on what to do.

He keeps saying that me having a job will help with our future. But it's not our future he's thinking of, it's what he wants to do with his future. He hasn't changed his plans except to keep working at his job and not quitting out of the blue because he needs the money. He hasn't been offered any other jobs, so as of right now he doesn't have anything to complain about in that aspect. Basically, I'm putting off what I want to do so he can be happy and do what he wants to do. It might be fair if he wasn't making me unhappy in the bargain.

He pretty much knows now how I feel on these things. It's finally been brought home to him that I've stopped trying or really caring that much. I don't want to hurt him, but I don't care about helping him either. I guess as long as I don't actively complain he feels everything is A-OK. Imagine me heaving a gusty sigh.

Two steps forward, many steps back

This week was really rough for dieting. It started off promising, with my usual weekly dinner out with my dad coming in at 9 grams of fat instead of being way over. Hooray! But then I suggested to my husband that we have lunch together on Thursday, since he had class that night and I thought it would be nice to do something special for Valentine's Day. I really wasn't thinking of doing anything huge, just meet up. I even offered to make a lunch and bring it, but he decided that he wanted to eat out. Then he decided he wanted to eat out at a place that does hamburgers and malts. Really, they don't have too much else. Oh, I suppose I could have ordered a salad. But really, eat a salad while Rob devours a cheeseburger in front of me? So I had a hamburger and since I was splurging anyway, I had a malt. We can't split a malt since he always orders the same flavor that I do not like and they don't do half sizes there. I tried not to eat anything else all day and just couldn't do it. That evening I went nuts and ate a whole bunch of bread with spread. Not good.

Saturday we went out to my father's for the day. Lunch was pancakes, sausage and fruit. I had half a sausage patty with four pancakes and far too much syrup. Although bisquick mix has a surprising amount of fat in it, the real diet killer there was the syrup and the sugar in it. I had almost packed sandwich supplies but thought I could manage. For dinner my dad tossed some ribs in the oven. Not only do I not like ribs, they are a definite diet no-no. The sides were instant potatoes and green beans. I made the potatoes to recipe since I wasn't the main diner so there was far more margarine in them than I would have liked. Then the frozen green beans came packaged with lumps of butter. Ew. I had a small portion of each of the sides for dinner and felt disgusting.

Sunday started off OK with my usual sandwich, but then family called and asked if we'd like to have dinner. Since I don't get to see them very much, this was a great idea. BTW, the Olive Garden doesn't have too many healthy options. I don't care for their marinara sauce, I don't like minestrone soup and I don't eat shrimp. This cut down my options even further. I just gave up and had a bowl of soup, two breadsticks and half my garlic chicken entree. Horrible horrible day. If I'd known before I ate lunch that I was going out, I probably would have eaten less to try and make up for it. To top it all off, I've developed a migraine and so am not happy right now.

I have to remind myself to take this one day at a time and then this week is just a small setback. I feel like I've been so good that these food splurges were a big discouragement. Then I have even more issues I didn't think of- when I visit family, is it OK to bring my own lunch stuff? I can't do the less than 15 grams thing on the usual meals without eating miniscule amounts of food, which will seriously not work. It might be politer to just forget my diet for a weekend, but the whole point of this diet is that there is no excuses. If I allow myself splurges, like I did this week, I'll find all sorts of reasons to eat things I ought not.

Since I'm hoping to join a Curves soon, maybe working out will help me stay on track and feel better about myself.

Dream a little

I had a sex dream the other night. As usual, it was about a guy to whom I am not normally attracted. I mean, I just don't think of that guy like that! But that's par for the course for these sorts of things with me.

I don't know how it is with other people, but sex in my dreams is much better than can probably be achieved in real life. It started out really great, but then just wound up bad. I couldn't understand it- it was MY dream. It kinda pissed me off. I can't even have great sex in my dreams anymore.

Gender roles reversed

Last night when my husband called from the road, I asked him if he was coming home first or if he was heading straight to class. He answered 'I'm on ________ Road.' I paused and asked the question again. This is a pattern with him. I ask a simple either/or question, and he gives a third answer that he apparently thinks indicates which one it is. Usually, it doesn't without me having to either ask further questions or think about what he said.

Also, for some reason he thinks that when I don't understand something he said, if he repeats it louder and slower I'll get it. I wasn't that I didn't hear what he said, I simply didn't understand what he meant by it. He has a tendancy to say a simple sentence that doesn't contain all the pertinent information, and then get upset when I ask questions to clarify his meaning or to find out what exactly is going on. I'm often reduced to explaining that I am not a mind-reader and he has to speak what he's thinking.

Isn't it funny that, as the women, I'm the one who is expected to know what he wants while I'm the one who explicitly states my needs?

Overthinking

Things have gotten better between Rob and me. I should be happy about this, but I can't help but feel unease at the reason WHY it's better.

Ever since the semester has began, Ron hasn't been home most nights. The one weeknight he is home, we tend to have dinner with my dad. Plus, he's been gone one weekend and I've been working on Saturday on another. In other words, we don't see each other much anymore and I'm happy about it.

This could just mean we both need to have more of a life outside of each other. I know that to make a marriage work we need to have outside interests, but Rob seems to resent any time I spend away from him doing things I enjoy. However, with him being the one gone all the time, I have nothing to complain about. In fact, I like it. I find his presence stressful, which just shouldn't be the case with the man I love.

Maybe I'm overthinking this, which god knows could be the case. I overthink everything. I can't make a decision without researching the options. Maybe I should just accept that we're happier when we don't spend so much time together. I think that with him absent so much, he doesn't have as much of a chance to get on my nerves. Aaargh! I should just go with what makes me happy and not think about the implications.

Two steps forward, one step back

I think I'm substituting sleeping for eating, which can't be right. I've been sleeping longer and taking more naps, so basically I'm awake for about 12 hours a day. I'm pretty sure this isn't healthy. Thing is, when I sleep my hunger doesn't bother me. I can go to bed a little hungry and wake a little hungry. Isn't our digestive system supposed to slow down when we sleep? Maybe this is my body's way of coping with calorie and fat restrictions. I know the next step is to get active, but it's hard to get myself to take a walk when all I want to do is curl up and snooze away.

All I need to know about the men in my life, I learned from the cartoons

OK, it's an exaggeration. But only a little.

My father is a living, breathing version of Homer Simpson. Alright, so he's smarter than Homer. Last time I checked he wouldn't fall for a trap with a pie as bait. But a lot of Homer's personality traits are incredibly similar to his. In fact, last time my husband started telling me about my dad, my first thought was 'What dumbass thing has he done now?'

My husband is all too close to Peter Griffin. The main similarities are immaturity and insensitivity towards others. It honestly does not occur to my husband that if he says something nasty about something I've worked to do, it'll hurt my feelings. I can forgive some of it, but part of growing up is developing a sense of how your actions will affect others. If you can't learn to think of it, you are immature and inconsiderate.

Lucky for me, my brother resembles neither Chris or Stewie Griffin and isn't at all like Bart Simpson. His personality is too normal to be a cartoon character, I guess. Chuck Bartowski in 'Chuck', yeah, but not nearly over-the-top enough for anything but a sitcom.

No effort

Other than telling Rob the story of Saturday night and warning him that the new neighbor seems to have a thing for him, we didn't really have too much conversation Sunday night. He's planning to be out of town this weekend too and it doesn't bother me one bit.

Part of this is my resolve to just not try anymore. I used to put an effort into things- meals, activities, little special treats. I almost always got shot down in flames. To be fair, I don't think Rob intentionally tries to hurt my feelings but he almost always has something not-nice to say about my efforts or he rejects them. Even if I explain how I was trying to do something nice for him, I get the reaction equivalant of a shrug.

I kinda got pissed off at Christmas that I was putting effort into gifts and that he would get partial credit for it. I find myself unable to stop doing things that make US look good to other people. Him, though? He's on his own now. I'm just not gonna try. Well, at least that's what I say. I'm trying to not try, which is hard. My instinct is to try to show affection and love in things I do for him.

But now? The less I do, the less I get hurt and the less I care. I guess if I was truly worried about the state of our marriage I would care. But he's the one who really wants this. He's the committed one. Right now I feel like I could take it or leave it and don't care too much what happens. But the fact that I had to stop showing affection to protect myself within my marriage is awful.

It's been easier lately since he's been more cheerful. He still gets stressed and pissed off but he doesn't take it out on me as much. This is an improvement but it makes me wonder why exactly he's so happy when nothing's changed.

Drama magnet

I had the most disturbing visit last night. I'd gone to bed early because I'd been up early after a night of poor sleep. I was woken by a pounding on our back door. I was sure it was for the kid across the hall, so I ignored it until it happened again. When I answered the door in my robe, I was a bit surprised to see a strange, drunk woman.

Turns out she's half of the couple that moved in two floors below us. She had met my husband when he was downstairs doing laundry and had come searching for him, even though he had told her he would be out of town this weekend. She introduced herself and I politely chatted with her for a while, attempting to bring the conversation to a quick close. No such luck.

After telling me repeatedly how attractive my husband is and how lucky I am, she mentioned that she and her boyfriend were swingers. They also smoke pot and self-evidently drink. Oh, and she's very racist and is happy to have moved to this area because it's very white. She pushed her way into our apartment, wandered around looking at everything, tumbled drunkenly over the couch and stumbled into our bedroom.

Then, she opened her sweater (she was braless) and pulled down her pants and undies because she was telling me how she was trying to lose weight for her boyfriend. After attempting to kiss me many times, she suggested we go lie down on the bed together. When I refused, she wanted me to smoke a cigarette with her. I don't smoke. After trying to kiss me one more time, she finally went back to her apartment but left the smell of sweaty, smoke-marinated drunk woman behind her.

I'm told I attract pushy people because I look too nice. I guess I'm gonna have to cultivate a bitchy look so I don't have to deal with drama again. I warned my husband when he got home, and now I'm almost scared to go downstairs unless I'm leaving the building. I wanna move!

Less picky

One of the hardest things for me is that I am a picky eater. I have been as long as I can remember. My mother and I used to battle over what I would and would not eat. Eventually, as I got old enough to boil water, she basically cooked whatever she wanted to feed the rest of the family and told me to cook for myself. She did not run a restaurant, as she would say.

OK, that was fine as long as I had an incredibly fast metabolism. Meals consisting of pasta with a bit of parmesan cheese didn't bloat me. Peanut butter sandwiches were fine. I was unusually skinny growing up and part of that was our lifestyle. We frequently took long family bike rides. We all played baseball in the backyard. I don't remember walking a lot, just running.

Fast-forward to today: I do not have a fast metabolism anymore. Part of that is probably getting older, most of it is being inactive and eating too much. On the plus side, I eat probably two or three times as many veggies as I used to. I'm willing to try new foods. I don't like any kind of beans, so that's out. I don't like cooked sweet peppers but also aren't fond of them straight. I eat cooked broccoli but not raw. I ODed on raw carrots and never ate cooked ones.

There's hope, though. I want to try things like cauliflower, fennel bulb, cucumber and mushrooms. I've worked out that if I dice the onions really fine, I can include them in sauces. Also, stir-fries are a great way to cram a lot of veggies into a meal. I love spinach and put it in damn near everything I make. I guess to every parent of a picky eater, I have to say there's hope. My parents' jaws nearly fell off the first time I ordered lamb in a restaurant. I suddenly started eating salad in my early twenties. Hopefully I can work my way to new, healthier meals with my willingness to try different foods.

Not a busy bee

I hate doing housework. Washing dishes sucks. Dusting I kinda like but it's still tedious and time-consuming. Mopping isn't so bad because of how little linoleum and tile we have. I refuse to vacuum. Something about the sound and vibration of a vacuum cleaner really gets on my nerves and makes me stressed and unhappy. Luckily, Rob will do that particular chore for me.

I think I just need to be kept busy, but it has to be something I enjoy. I can't use chores to fulfill my need for activity. I'm trying to make myself go somewhere outside this apartment at least once a day, whether it's just to the corner store for milk or a longer expedition. Getting a job would be fabulous. I really want the one I interviewed for last week, but since I was the first interviewee, it'll be a while before I hear back.

I need to take a class or something, have a planned activity. So far, though, the ones that interest me are either expensive (stained-glass windows) or held during the day. I don't want to commit money to something that employment could interrupt, or truth be told be part of a group of women seeking the same thing I am- activity.

If it weren't so damn cold out, I could get myself walking. Even my insensitive husband isn't so clueless as to encourage me to spend time outside in below-zero weather.

It depends on how you respond

So tonight, as my husband and I are entwined on the bed kissing, he unexpectedly blows a raspberry into my neck. I've already said quite a bit to him on the subject of untimely immaturity. It might not sound like much, but when you live with stuff like that constantly it gets old real fast.

Anyway, as he grinned at me, I said 'Oh yeah baby, do it to me like that!' in an exaggerated do-me voice. It had the nice effect of discouraging him from ever doing that again without being an actual reproach.

Loudmouths

Last night, as my father, brother and husband all devoured pizza that is verboten to me, Rob looked up at me and asked 'Have you taken an Alli pill?' Just opened his big fat mouth and said it! So not only do I have to endure the temptation and the torture of deprivation, I have my husband more or less embarrassing me in front of my family.

That's right, I'm embarrassed to be taking Alli. I wish I could do weight loss without it and feel that it's a last resort. And I'm also embarrassed by my husband, who I just can't tell anything to anymore. Even if I say 'I don't want anyone else to know', he still says it to precisely the person I didn't want him to say it to. He claims that my dad and brother probably don't know what Alli is and that they'll have forgotten he asked me about it. I figure he probably told them already.

Not permanent?

Does anyone else think that this is cheating? That a truly removeable tattoo isn't a real tattoo anymore? I haven't gotten a tattoo yet because they're so permanent. OK, I know, 'real' tattoos mostly can be removed with painful and expensive treatments. To me, part of the attraction of a tattoo was that they were a permanent statement. Somehow, this new ink devalues that.

Never mind the fact that I keep thinking it's too good to be true. All I can think is that the ink will likely degrade with time. Of course, this could be a good thing, so I wouldn't be one of a horde of wrinkled grannies going around with a deformed tattoo.

My life, aka The soap opera (really long post)

My husband and I have not had the greatest year. In addition to stress in our marriage, both of our mothers have passed away this year. His was unexpected, mine was a long, slow decline. Both of them suck about equally. While there was a lot of grieving this year, that I could deal with. It's the sideshow going on involving my father-in-law that's so horrible.

Right before she passed away in late February, Rob and I had booked our cabin on a cruise that his mom had already planned. Rather than cancelling, we (Rob, his dad Bob and I) decided that we were going to continue as a sort of tribute to her. On this cruise, Bob met somebody. We weren't too thrilled by the woman but thought it was a little cute that he had companionship for the last few days of the cruise. What we were really disturbed by was how he behaved once the land portion of our vacation started. He spent all of his time on the phone with her, answering during dinner and basically abandoning us. He broke down, crying and declaring himself in love, after knowing someone three days.

Then, as soon as he gets back he goes and visits her. He takes a sabbatical from his job, the dream part-time one that he was only working during his retirement because he enjoyed it. He decides to move to her state (from north all the way south) to live with her. When Rob visits him, he spends most of his time on the phone with her. He mopes and doesn't do any of the activities that both he and Rob were looking forward to doing together in his retirement. Then he leaves him children alone for both the first Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays without their mother.

Even worse than that, his younger son is having mental health problems. They stem mostly from his mom's sudden death and his dad's essential abandonment. His dad says things like 'Well, I can't help him' or 'Even if I left right now, I still wouldn't be able to get there in time.' Or, he could just be there for him. When we try to discuss this with Bob, he just gets angry and says things like 'You don't want me to be happy!' and 'You're adults.' Yeah, his children want him to be absolutely miserable and since they're over 18 they don't need him ever. Everything right now is about his happiness and how suddenly it is necessary for him to be with this woman to be happy.

Now we find out they're getting married sometime this month. Rob found out by simply googling their name together. It was in a local paper, a matter of public record. His dad has spoken to him twice since then and hasn't mentioned this at all. We just don't understand why they have to be married so soon. It boils down to this: the man declared his love for this woman after knowing her three days. This less than six months after his wife died. He leaves his children alone during rough emotional times. He's getting married secretly less than a year after his wife dies suddenly.

And even if this wasn't bad enough, we're not so sure about this woman. We didn't care too much for her when we met her, mostly because of the 'I'm a poor little woman who needs the help of a big strong man like you!' thing she did, all in a southern accent. She initially lowballed the number of divorces, which is five, and overstated the number of years since her last divorce, which is three. When she was supposed to come up to visit and then drive down with him, she cancelled because the weather MIGHT get bad. She claims one of her husbands died, but it wasn't the first one. We have divorce records for all the other ones, again all a matter of research in public records.

But even if you take all this out of the equation, his behavior towards his family is inexcusable. My husband doesn't plan to let his father know that he knows his dad is married, or gonna be soon. Rob is going to let his dad dig himself deeper into a hole. Rob also doesn't plan to do much to help him anymore, like help with home maintenance. His dad is planning to sell the house soon. What will probably happen in this market is it will sit for sale for a long time, unless he drastically cuts the price. The idea of Bob throwing away a house that Rob's mom worked very hard to get is offensive.

When did all this drama happen? We can't sit and discuss this like ration adults because Bob throws his emotional state around. I understand that he has a right to his own life, but to pretty much reject his own sons in favor of a woman is wrong. To expect his sons to do things for him and to be there for him when he isn't there for them is wrong. It might be true love. Sixth time around might be the charm for this woman. Getting married after knowing someone half-a-year might work. However, the odds are against it and we're not sure what we're gonna do if Bob comes home with his heart broken.

Lost item

So the other night my husband and I discovered we'd lost a box of condoms. Brand new, never-opened entire box. We'd bought it a few weeks ago and apparently it never made it from the bag to our bedroom. It's probably still in the bag somewhere, if the bag hasn't been thrown (cough*Rob*cough). Our apartment isn't that big, but a box of condoms is kinda small. Worst thing is, we've had my brother over a couple of times while this renegade box is just lying around somewhere.

*Update*
The box was behind my computer screen. Yeah.

Flung myself off

I fell off the wagon in the worst way today. Actually, it wasn't so much falling as deliberately removing myself. Is taking responsibility for my actions better than admitting to loss of self-control?

Anyway, lunch wasn't too bad- caesar salad and a fruit smoothie made with my shiny new hand blender. I nibbled some chips and salsa late in the afternoon. Then, tonight I kept delaying eating because I was going grocery shopping, which was stupid. I always wind up gorging on food that I bought.

Today was no exception, except I limited myself to one savory and one sweet item. I have 3/4 of a thin-crust pizza. The serving size was 1/3 the pizza and was well below 14 grams of fat, not that I was stupid enough to have Alli with my very late dinner. Then, I ate probably six of those horrible cream-filled chocolate cupcakes. Somehow, being full from indulgence doesn't feel as good as it used to. I'm trying to view this as a small aberation in an otherwise encouraging beginning.

Not full, but still happy

So no Alli today. I had an appointment at noon, so I figured I'd eat that leftover salad after I got home. For breakfast, I had chips and salsa and didn't even think of taking a pill because I was thinking of it as a snack. Since the chips were low-fat (2 grams of fat a serving, people!) it was a decent meal. I just wanted something with flavor. As it was, I wasn't hungry until it got too late in the afternoon to snack before dinner with my dad. We ate around 5, and I'm still full. The meal, Chipotle tacos, wasn't as horrible as some eating-out foods can be but still wasn't exactly what I'd call healthy.

Right now I'm not hungry. It's been four hours since a meal and I don't want to eat anything. I'm not full either. It's an odd feeling for me. I think I'm getting more successful about divorcing food from emotions. It helps that I had activities today, so I'm not just around the house bored. When I was a freshman, I often forgot to eat dinner because I was so busy with schoolwork. I'd just have some oatmeal and call it good. If there was more for me to do right other than housework, maybe things would go better. Damn I need a job.

Tacos are bad for you

Oh. My. God. Do you know how much fat is in three tortillas from Chipotle? I'm not even including the chicken, cheese or salsa that I'm planning to add to them. I'm also horrified by Baja Sol. The baja-style chicken tacos aren't that bad by themselves, as long as you don't eat the rice or the tortilla chips. It's ridiculous. And I'm sure my dad chose Chipotle because he thought it was a healthy choice. I don't even want to think about it, which is why I won't be taking Alli with my dinner tomorrow night.

More diet crap

I had the first Alli side effect today, but I won't go into details. It actually wasn't that bad but I can really see how it would bother some folks. I didn't take Alli with lunch because my brother wanted to take me out. I could have, but I didn't because I thought I was having both a cup of cream of chicken wild rice soup AND a ceasar salad. I ended up being so full after the soup that the salad is now sitting in the fridge. Maybe I'll save it for tomorrow for lunch, maybe have it tonight and have just a bit of the beef and barley soup cooking in the crock pot right now.

While Alli will help with the fat problem, it doesn't help with my sweet tooth. I have a bad sweet tooth. Did you know it is possible to have a fairly tasty ice cream sundae with chocolate and caramel sauce and still have it fat-free? I know it. And just now I guzzled a bottle of soda because I really really wanted it, and I'm tired and want caffeine. It hasn't helped yet, since all I want to do is curl up and sleep. Maybe getting a job will help with this. I think what will happen is I'll just be really really tired when I'm at home in the evening.

I know that for some people, exercise energizes them. For me, it's enervating plus it makes me hungry. Excuses, excuses but it's true. Maybe I push myself too hard when I go to work out, who knows. I probably won't be doing anything too strenuous with the combo of a whacked knee and a sore ankle, each on opposite legs. My husband thinks both of these are because I'm fat. I think it's because I fell and hit my knee hard last month, and I probably twisted my ankle when I was getting out of bed. I think it's because I'm klutzy.

Weight loss help

I find my weight somewhat humiliating. On one hand it doesn't bother me too much. Obviously. If it really really bothered me, I'd do something about it. However, I dislike knowing I look bad no matter how nice my hair or clothes are. Also, being out of shape is a problem. I can't do things I used to do without a thought. I'm incredibly lucky that I still have good blood pressure, strength and stamina. I think those have more to do with the fact that it wasn't until the last four years or so I've had a real weight problem, and the twenty-three years before that were spent in excellent shape.

I started on Alli this week. I don't like doing it, I feel like using it is an admission of defeat. This is something I've struggled with for a while, this idea that asking for or using help is saying that I'm not good enough. I've always felt that I should be able to do something on my own. That said, I'm using assistance. I'm cheating a little bit this first week. I'm scared of the side effects, so I'm only using the pill for one meal a day (I really only eat two a day). One big problem is I often don't sit down and eat an actual lunch but snack over the course of a few hours. If I sit down with a meal, I'll be stuff far short of the 15 grams of fat I'm allowed but then am hungry an hour later. I might try taking the pill with the fattiest part of my meal but spacing it out like I usually do.

Also, when I'm restricting my food, I'm so hungry in the evening before I go to bed and I CANNOT sleep when I am starving. In fact, now that I think about it I bet the snack I have before I go to bed is the equivalent of a third meal. I AM aware of what I eat, I just don't want to think about it too much. Plus, when I'm hungry I'm a cranky bitch, my hands shake and I get a headache. It's just so much easier to eat something like a hunk of bread with cheese than to deal.

What's also really really hard for me is watching my husband devour whatever he wants to, right in front of me. He used to yell at me for eating his snacks when they were the only bad food around, but wouldn't take them to work because he wanted to eat them here. For lunch today he had two big doughnuts. Yesterday we went out to dinner with my brother to a place that specializes in hamburgers and malts. Yeah, like I'm gonna eat a salad when my husband and brother are chowing down on nummy cheeseburgers. I'm conflicted about my cooking at home, too. If I cook food that is healthy that I find tasty, my husband complains and whines. If I cook food he wants, I always wind up eating a larger portion than I ought to.

Now that I've started with the Alli, perhaps I can get myself walking or otherwise moving around. I wish I hadn't told my husband about it. He tends to appoint himself the food police for me, even when he's getting chunky around the middle. I think I'm just gonna start cooking for ME, and he can feed himself nasty food as much as he wants to. The fact is, he eats fast food three or more times a week, while I eat fast food maybe once a month. It bothers me that I actually do eat much healthier than a lot of fit people I know. I guess it's just a matter of portion, which I have a hard time controlling.

I don't know if Alli will actually help with not absorbing fat, but I do think it will help with fat ingestions. If I've already taken the pill I won't dare eat more food or suffer the consequences.