Just Sayin' Episode #7: Leap Day

February 29, you're like the most awkward day ever (and I love you for it).

Just sayin'.

Awkward Contest!

I've decided to be like all the cool blogs and offer a contest.  Well, "contest" probably isn't the right word, but it sounds cool.  In a contest, someone is competing against someone else or something else.  So, I guess I could say that my readers are competing against time or against themselves or something...but really, it's not too much of a contest.  I'm just calling it that because it makes me feel cool.

Yeah, it's really more of a challenge.  Challenge doesn't sound nearly as cool as a contest.  Let's keep calling it a contest.

It's not March yet, but I'm going to declare a challenge contest for the month of March.  See, in February, Adventures in Social Awkwardness has had more reads than ever before.  I'd like to thank my readers for all their...well...reading...but I figured I'd make it into a challenge contest!

My other, more serious, but not completely serious blog, Poor Reflections, has also had a really good month, reader-wise.  So here's the thing.  If either Poor Reflections or Adventures in Social Awkwardness reaches 700 reads for the month of March (challenge contest begins March 1 and ends March 31), I'll personally compose and perform (and post a video of it, obviously) of a song in which I express gratitude to all of my readers.

Okay, that sounds kind of lame.  Hmm.

I'm going to level with you.  I'm pretty much broke and don't have anything cool to give away.  I do have a quirky talent for coming up with strange clever lyrics, and I pretend to play the guitar well enough to confuse people who don't know anything about how to play the guitar....

...so my gift is my song and this one's for you...

...if you win the contest. 

I mean challenge. 

I mean contest.

SHUT UP I'M AWESOME!

SAA Ep.#62: Unforeseen Occupational Hazards

There are certain ideas most people have when they think of the childcare field.  Some people might have happy images in their minds of happy children sitting in a happy circle around a happy teacher, while happy songs are happily being sung about happy people who like happy things and think happy thoughts. 

Yeah.  I’m not sure where some people got that idea, because in reality, working with children is kind of like living inside a blender. 

While I truly love all of the childcare jobs I have, and I love the children I watch, there are definitely some drawbacks.   Most of these occupational hazards, as I like to call them, are pretty obvious.  Kids whine.  They fight.  They cry.  They poke and tap and jab at you with their persistent little fingers.  Their bodies leak various liquid-type substances.  They play with poo sometimes.  They make messes when they eat.  They get into stuff.  As Shawn Spencer (seriously, I am far too addicted to Psych) once said, “I think children are sticky.”

But in the past several years of working with children, I’ve noticed that there are some other occupational hazards involved in the childcare field.  These are occupational hazards I did not anticipate.  I will now list and briefly discuss five of these unforeseen occupational hazards.  And you will now read them (if you want to).  And I will now stop stating the obvious for no apparent reason….

1) Leading the Monkeys

My love of all things Dragon burst forth in abundance earlier this year, as we celebrated the “2012: The Year of the Dragon.”  I went a little crazy (who me?) and did Dragon crafts and coloring sheets with the kids at work.  While passing out the Dragon coloring sheets, I was talking with one of my coworkers.  I said, “I wish I had been born in the ‘Year of the Dragon.’  I was born in the ‘Year of the Monkey.’” 

My coworker smiled and happily exclaimed, “So was I!”

I looked at my coworker very carefully and did some mental math.  I knew there was no way she was my age, but I didn’t realize how large the age gap was.  Tentatively, I asked her, “You were born in 1992, weren’t you?” 

She nodded enthusiastically.

I nodded, but not quite so enthusiastically.  “I wasn’t.  I was born in 1980.  So that means I’m twelve years older than you are.”

One of the kids shouted out, “HEY!  I was born in the ‘Year of the Monkey,’ too!”

“2004?” I asked him.

He nodded.

“Great,” I said.  “I’m twenty-four years older than you.  There are three generations of ‘Year of the Monkey’ people here.  And I get to be the oldest.”

The kid said, “You’re so lucky!  The oldest monkey gets to be the leader of the group.  I saw that on Tarzan.  So you get to be the leader of the monkeys.”

“Just what I always wanted,” I said.  “Yay me.”

Unforeseen Occupational Hazard #1: Feeling Old.

2) Can I Call You ‘Mommy?’

Since I’m not quite as young as I used to be, I’m finding myself in a really unusual predicament.  A lot of the parents of the kids I watch are now younger than I am.  This isn’t really that big of a deal, but it leads to some awkwardness. 

Maybe it’s because I don’t feel like a grown up because I’m not married and don’t have kids of my own, but sometimes I feel a little uncomfortable calling parents by their first names.  Even if I’m older than the parents, I sometimes feel younger than them because they’ve got all this responsibility that I don’t have.  So sometimes I don’t really know if it’s okay to call a parent by his or her first name. 

One of my coworkers likes to just refer to all parents as ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ so she never has to use their names at all.  When greeting a parent, she says, “How’s Mom doing today?” or something like that.  Most parents don’t mind that at all, but I don’t like it.  I just feel a little more awkward calling someone “Mom” than I do calling them by their first name, unless that someone is my actual mother. 

But then, sometimes I have a feeling that this awkwardness goes both ways.  I’ve noticed that some parents always call me “Miss Ruth,” even when their kids aren’t around.  I guess they don’t know if it’s okay to just call me by my name, either. 

There is a parent that always calls me “Miss ROOF,” because that’s what her kid calls me.  And I think that’s the most amazing thing ever.  Just don’t call me that unless you have an adorable kid who calls me that, or there will be trouble.

Usually, if I’m uncertain, I just don’t address the parent by any name, which can lead to other unforeseen occupational hazards….

Unforeseen Occupational Hazard #2: Awkward Name Confusion.

3) Wait…Parent?  Parent who?

Sometimes, while avoiding addressing the parents by any name, I slip into another awkward situation.  Sometimes, I slip into this habit even when I know the parents and know how to address them.

Maybe it’s because I’m short, but I have a tendency to look down when I see kids.  I look down and talk to the kids, and sometimes I forget to look back up again and talk to the adults.  Sometimes I never even acknowledge a parent is there; I speak only to the child (maybe because I relate better to children).  What’s worse is when I don’t speak directly to the parent, but instead have a vicarious conversation with the parent while talking to the child.

“Sammy, did your mom take you to the zoo yesterday?  Did your mom buy you ice cream?  Don’t you just love your mom?  Your mom sure loves you a lot.  What was your mom’s favorite animal?  Were you nice to your mom at the zoo?  Did your mom buy you anything at the gift shop?  Did your mom like the reptile house as much as you did?  I’ll bet she didn’t.”  It really is too easy to have a conversation with a parent without even talking to a parent.  Scary, really.

Unforeseen Occupational Hazard #3: Developing the Inability to Communicate With Anyone Taller than 4’2.

4) AAAAHHHH!  I NEED More Sunflowers!!!!

If I didn’t work with children, I might have never heard of the game “Plants VS. Zombies,” and even if I had heard of it, I would have thought it silly.  Okay, so it is silly.  The silliness of it did not prevent me from getting completely, hopelessly addicted to the game. 

It all started out so innocently.  I was watching some of the kids play it, and eventually I understood the concept of the game.  I thought it looked interesting, so I downloaded the trial version at home so I could see what it was all about.  Big mistake. 

I was addicted to “Plants VS. Zombies” for months.  Even now, when I see a child playing it, I start getting a little twitchy.  If a child isn’t particularly good at it, part of me wants to seize the mouse from their little fingers and strategically plant peashooters that will actually protect my his house from the huge wave of zombies that is approaching. 

…and I have to walk away….

I’ve had similar experiences with “Angry Birds,” “Insane Aquarium,” “Feeding Frenzy,” “Fashion Craze,” and “Diner Dash.”  …not to mention Super Mario Kart and Lego Star Wars. 

This is why I’m not allowed to have a Wii.

Unforeseen Occupational Hazard #4: Becoming a Children’s Video Game Addict

5) Disobedient Children!  I told you to STOP growing!

I’ve worked in the same drop-in childcare center for six years.  That means that I used to change the diapers of some kids who are now EIGHT years old.  Sometimes I tell the kids this because I like to see their reactions.  Usually it’s denial.

Yes, I’m blessed that I’ve formed some really amazing relationships with families over the years, but it is heartbreaking to see a child grow from little to big.  Kids who once thought I was the coolest thing ever now act as if they don’t even know my name.  I don’t know how parents deal with it with their own kids, because I get really emotional about it sometimes.  But I feel better when I realize that I’m not the one who’s going to have to pay for their college in a few very short years.

And of course, there are still those rare kids who still think I’m the coolest thing ever, as long as I keep quiet about that “I used to change your diapers” thing.

Unforeseen Occupational Hazard #5: Growing Pains

Are there any Unforeseen Occupational Hazards you’ve noticed in your job (whatever it might be) or in your own child-related experiences? 

SAA: Ep. #61: Real Life Musical

I once had a dream of being in musical theater. 

Unfortunately, this dream had little chance of success.  For one thing, I can't dance.  One time in college, I was part of this Gershwin show that the directors didn't really want me to be a part of (but, for whatever reason, they wouldn't tell me to go away).  I practiced this dance to "I Got Rhythm" about a gazbillion times before getting it down right.  I still don't got rhythm, but thanks to that show and my hours of practicing in front of the mirror, I can do a jazz square like nobody's business.  Sometimes I can even pair it with believable jazz hands.

Another reason why I wouldn't make it in musical theater is because while I once believed had decent acting skills and I still believe I have a good singing voice, I never did well in auditions.  And that's pretty important to getting roles in musical theater.  ...or so I hear....

And the way I see it, I really wouldn't like being in musical theater.  When I was thirteen, I really wanted to be Belle from "Beauty and the Beast."  I wanted to be her.  The movie had only been out about a year, and I wanted to be Belle.  I wanted to go from poor provincial life to prisoner in an enchanted castle to girlfriend of big hairy guy.  I was realistic enough to know that I could never actually be her, so I wanted the next best thing.  I used to pray, yes pray, that the Lord would make Disney make a theatrical version of "Beauty and the Beast" so that I could get the starring role and finally, finally BE BELLE. 

Well...God answered half that prayer.  Yes, there is a Broadway musical.  No, I've never performed in it.  So if you're a fan of Disney's theatrical version of "Beauty and the Beast," you can thank me--or better yet, thank God for answering half my prayer.

The older I got, though, I realized that performing Belle on the stage wouldn't be as great as I thought.  Acting is a lot of hard work, and I don't think I'd like to portray Belle (or anyone else) night after night after night.  Besides, just pretending to be Belle on stage wouldn't actually make me Belle.  I'd leave the stage and go home to an overpriced apartment, living nothing more than a provincial life...in the heart of New York City...or somewhere like that.  Which...I wouldn't be cut out for at all...

And eventually, I discovered that I don't really want to be Belle anyway.  It would be nice, but see, when I talk to teapots, I don't like it when they talk back.  My life is adventurous enough as it is.  But one problem that I see with my life, and basically, life in general, is that it's not like those awesome musicals.  I truly believe that one of the reasons I haven't gotten married is because I really expect true love to happen in some grandiose musical duet.  I'm thinking of "Beauty and the Beast" where they dance in the ballroom.  I'm thinking of that moment in "Tangled" with the lanterns, when Flynn/Eugene and Rapunzel gaze into one another's eyes.  I'm thinking of "Enchanted" where Prince Edward and Gizelle sing about "True Love's Kiss."

...and now I'm thinking about James Marsden...looking outrageously attractive even in outrageously puffy sleeves...acting cute...and singing...

...where was I?

Oh, yes.  The problem with life is, no one just goes around singing like they do in musicals.  Well, some people do.  In fact, I do.  In fact, I believe that the main reason God gave me a good singing voice is because I sing ALL the time, and if I couldn't carry a tune, it would be even more annoying than it already is.  But the thing is, no one likes to sing with me when I start singing, so I've had to tone it down a little.  It's really a shame, too, because I think my life--that everyone's lives, would make a pretty awesome musical.

I'm not just talking love songs here.  I think people should sing about getting ready in the morning:

"I have to be at work in half an hour.
I don't have time to take a shower!
But my boss is going to be a jerk.
If I arrive too stinky to work!"

...or people should sing about going to the grocery:

"I forgot all my manufacturer's coupons.
I can't remember what I was supposed to get.
Do I need another gallon of milk?
I should have made a shopping list!"

...or people should sing about standing in line at the post office:

"My lunch hour is almost gone.
But I'm stuck in line singing this song.
I'll go crazy if I hear it one more time:
'Is there anything liquid, fragile, perishable, or potentially hazardous inside?!'

Going postal.  I'm going postal.
I've got to mail this package.  I've gotta buy a book of stamps!
Going postal.  I'm going postal!
The lady in line in front of me smells like ham."

...or people should sing while driving (and not just to the radio, like I almost always do):

"I honk my horn at you, you bad driver, there.
You cut me off without using your blinker.
I'm shouting, though you can't hear me, you stinker.
I honk my horn at you, and you don't care!"

...or people should sing while eating at a fine dining establishment:

"My waiter is getting an awesome tip tonight.
My waiter brought me water; he brought it just right.
Just listen to my water's ice cubes jingle.
Oh, I wonder if that waiter's single.
My waiter is really out of siiii-iiight!"


Yeah, I don't know why it's not considered socially acceptable (and even socially awesome) to randomly burst out in song in public.  I'm glad I work with kids, because working with kids gives me lots of opportunities to sing.  I made up a song about roses the other day, and I performed it for a kid I was torturing watching :

"Roses can be lots of colors.
Roses can be pink.
Roses can be blue or red.
And their stems are green!
Roses can be orange.
Roses can be purple.
Roses can be yellow.
Nothing rhymes with purple."

The kid just looked at me and said, "You're weird."

But he was smiling, because music, even weird music, makes people happy.

So I'm going to keep singing in my real life musical, and maybe one day I'll end up with a big hairy boyfriend.  Aww.

Can he look/sing like James Marsden??

SAA: Ep. #60: Attracting Strangers and the Just Plain Strange

I don’t play poker, which is probably a good thing, because I’m pretty sure I don’t have a very good poker face (GET OUT OF MY HEAD LADY GAGA!).  I’ve got a neutral face, but unfortunately, my neutral face looks angry.  I think this is because when I’m thinking about stuff, I get really into it.  My brow gets all furrowy and my eyes get all intense, and innocent bystanders think I’m angry about something. 

No, no.  I’m not angry.  I guess it just hurts to think.

One time this guy I barely knew came up to me and accused me of being a horrible person because I didn’t smile enough for his taste.  He was being rude and was totally out of line, but I thought maybe there was something to what he said.  So I tried smiling more. 

And people thought I was a little creepy because I smiled all the time.

So I went back to my neutral/angry face.

Now, don’t think that I go around scowling all the time.  I smile.  I smile when things make me happy.  Things make me happy a lot.  It’s just that when I’m not thinking about being happy, I’m neutral. 

So I don’t really understand why strangers are often drawn to me.  Apparently, I don’t have one of those naturally welcoming appearances.  Yet, I’ve had several interesting experiences in which strangers, for some unknown reason, have sought me out.

When I was in college (the second time around), I was standing in the hallway outside of a classroom, waiting for the class before mine to let out.  This guy comes up and stands beside me.  I can see him looking at me, and I started wondering if he was “checking me out.”  I’m one of those people who is just never sure if a guy is interested or not. 

Turns out, he was checking me out, but not in the way I thought.  “Hi,” he said.  “You look like someone who’s good to talk to.  So, I just had lunch with this girl in the cafeteria.  We’ve had lunch every day this week.  I’m not sure if she’s interested, but I think I’m in love with her.”

When I saw him looking at me, he was checking me out to see if he wanted to trust me, a stranger, with something personal.  That’s not the only example I have, but it’s probably the most direct and bizarre.  There have been many times when people I barely know have just started dishing out personal issues.  I studied counseling in school, and all, and I’ve been told I’m a good listener.  I just don’t understand what it is about me that makes practical (and sometimes actual) strangers want to talk to me.

The example with the guy was strange, but it didn’t really freak me out too badly.  I mean, this guy was direct, but he was sane.  Apart from being a little lovesick, there wasn’t anything wrong with his mind.  Normal people have sought me out many times.  It’s odd, but okay. 

Then—there are the people with “the crazies.”  These are the people who come up to me in public and attempt to communicate with me in their crazy language.  I’m not sure what it is about me that attracts them, and I’m fairly sure I’ll never find out.  I mean, I can’t even understand them most the time.

The other day, I was in Walmart (one of the best places to meet people with the crazies), looking over the half-price Valentine’s jewelry, when crazy lady walks up.  She says something I don’t understand at all.  I kind of mumble something back.  She shows me the jewelry she’s looking at and says (I think), “Whasshu got there lookin’ at there?”  I (somewhat hesitantly) show her the jewelry I’m looking at.

She proceeds to go on a long monologue in Ebonics/Crazy-speak.  Now, I am not fluent in either language, but I think she was telling me about how her sister-in-law had recently died, and she wanted all her family members to wear pink jewelry.  Her daughter apparently sent her to Walmart to get pink jewelry, but she wasn’t her daughter’s personal slave.  I’m not sure if I understood the story or not.  The last thing she said, in a very angry voice, was, “See now, she not be gettin’ nothin’ jewels from me.  See?  See?!  She done be gettin’ for herselves, see!”

I nodded.  Crazy lady stormed away, sans jewelry, pink or otherwise.  I was left to ponder why she felt the need to tell me about her dead sister-in-law.  Or was it her hamster?  Was it the hamster that was pink?  I really couldn’t understand.  I hope that I was able to be a listening ear for her, though.  I’m sure that even the crazies occasionally need to vent to someone besides their imaginary friends.

I went home and related this story to my roommate, who wisely said, “That woman might have been wearing a blue tooth.  She might have been talking to someone on the phone.”

I pondered this for a few minutes, and realized that the crazy lady might have been an actual sane person (with atrocious grammar).  If that was the case, then she might have been wondering why I kept showing her my jewelry and mumbling, “Uh huh.  That’s nice.  I’m sorry to hear that.  Uh huh.”  She might have even thought that I was the crazy one.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again.  Talking to voices in your head used to just mean that you were crazy.  Now, talking to voices in your head (via blue tooth) means that you’re successful.  It’s really hard to tell the difference.

Hmm.

I’m just going to keep working on my poker face, po-po-poker face.

Poker?!  I don’t even know her!

Sorry, I felt that a good Psych reference might make up for all the Lady Gaga.

Social Awkwardness Revisited: SAA #13: The Woman Who Saved Valentine's Day

I originally posted this last year, after a Valentine's Day quest gone wrong, and an unlikely hero who saved the day...

P.S. I won't be handing out any Rice Krispies Treats this year. 



It's Socially Awkward Adventure #13! I hope none of my readers have triskaidekaphobia. Yes. I had to look up the correct spelling for that. No, that's not what this blog is about.

Have you ever wanted to do something nice for someone (or a group of people), but you lose track of time and find yourself scrambling at the last minute, and by the time you realize that it's too late to accomplish this nice thing, you kind of wish you hadn't thought of doing this nice thing in the first place?

If you could understand what I just wrote, I hope you can answer "No, Ruth. That's just you." Yes, the above scenario is something I have dealt with time and time again. Like, I get this idea that I'm going to make guacamole for a party (seriously...I make awesome guacamole. It's so good I call it "ROCKamole"), then I realize at the last minute that I don't have any avocados, and the only ones I can find in the stores are either too mushy or too hard, and then when I FINALLY find some ripe ones after going to four different stores, I realize I don't have at least an hour and a half to make this guacamole.

Apparently, this blog has a theme today, and this theme is run-on sentences...but I digress...

This post is not about Valentine's Day. Well, it is, but only indirectly. Okay, so it's about Valentine's Day. I mean, sort of...

So recently I saw this card for single people that said something stupid like, "I believe there is someone for everyone out there, and one day you will find yours. Until then, know that I love you and lots of other people do too." Basically, what that says to me is, "Here's a card so you won't feel lonely while the rest of us married people are at home snuggling with our spouses. Enjoy!"

The thing is, I'm really NOT bummed about Valentine's Day at all. Not at all. I haven't been for several years...and I've been single for several years. In fact, I've only been "with" someone for one Valentine's Day out of my whole life. But I'm not into that whole "Single Awareness Day" or whatever. It's Valentine's Day. I love Valentine's Day! Do you want to know why?

It's because I love kids. I mean, maybe if I had a significant other, I might just think Valentine's Day was all about showing my love to him. But...somehow I doubt it. I mean, all these froo froo hearts and flowers just don't make me feel romantic. They make me feel cutesy. Kids are good with cutesy.

I love getting those perforated valentine's cards to give to the kids in my life. I love putting together Valentine packages for my nieces and nephew. I love putting heart stickers all over the place. I love reading conversation hearts and just being flat out sickeningly adorable. I love Valentine's Day. And the greatest joy to me every Valentine's Day is giving cards/presents to the kids I love.

So...

Late last night I got this idea that I wanted to get individually wrapped rice krispies treats for the kids in my preschool class. We were having a Valentine's party today, so I thought it might be a nice gesture. I figured I had PLENTY of time to run out in the morning and get some rice krispies treats from CVS. Only CVS didn't seem to have any rice krispies treats--at least not that I could see. And CVS is pretty hopping on random Thursday mornings, especially when the ground is covered with a very light dusting of snow that will have completely melted away by noon--because in the South, if there's snow, that means everyone needs milk and bread immediately and at the same time, or the world will explode in a rainbow of heart-shaped confetti. So I couldn't ask anyone where the rice krispies treats were because all the employees were busy helping people find bread and milk that didn't seem to exist anymore.

No big deal. I had a plan B! There is a grocery store right around the corner from where I work. So I went there. I was still a few minutes ahead of schedule. It was awesome. I'd run in, find the rice krispies treats, and self-check my way out of there to arrive on time to work in a blaze of rice krispies treats glory. Only I couldn't seem to find the rice krispies treats at this store, either. I was browsing the snack aisle (a logical place to find...ya know...snacks), when I ran into one of the minister's wives from my church. I thought she was amazing before, but listen to this:

She greeted me. I explained my dilemma. She said she thought that the rice krispies treats should be with the snacks, too (logical place, that's all I'm saying). Well, I had to run because by this time I was late for work, so I figured the rice krispies treats were just not meant to be.

Alas. My quest for the rice krispies treats had come to an end. I had failed.

But, I say again, listen to this...(or read this...because it's written and not spoken...whatever...)

As soon as I got to work, I got a phone call from the minister's wife. She had found the rice krispies treats and was bringing me a box! I mean, she was like a super hero. The day was saved! She saved Valentine's Day!

You know how there are all those stupid movies out there about somebody saving Christmas? Ernest Saves Christmas. Noddy Saves Christmas (who's Noddy? Idk.) Elmo Saves Christmas. Dora Saves Christmas. Diego Saves Christmas (wasn't Dora enough?? Apparently not). Inspector Gadget Saves Christmas (I might actually watch that one). Rainbow Brite Saves Christmas. Felix the Cat Saves Christmas. Mater Saves Christmas. Your Mom saves Christmas (I might have made up that last one). Me thinks I should do a blog on "...saves Christmas" movies. Ya know...like sometime around Christmas...because right now it's around Valentine's Day...

Yeah, so anyway, they should make a movie about the lady who brought me rice krispies treats. They should call it "The Woman Who Saved Valentine's Day." I'd watch it.

I'd watch it because I lived it.

...and I still have half a box of rice krispies treats to prove it.

Public Service Announcement: Weight Loss Made Awkward

 I used to be a size sixteen. 

I’m a size six(ish) now. 

Many people have asked me to share my weight loss secrets, but after a long day of working with kids who don’t know how to take turns, I really don’t feel like sharing, either.  But today is your lucky day.  Today is the day that I reveal to the world my plan for weight loss success!

So how exactly does Socially Awkward Girl keep fitting into her super suit?  Do I take a magic diet pill that speeds up my metabolism, with the side effect of making me act super hyper ridiculously crazy?  No—that’s just how I am.  Do I take some other amazing pill that transforms all the fat I eat into happy little butterflies and rainbows?  No—but I might achieve such an effect from taking some other kind of drug.  No, no.  There is no magic pill that makes the fat go away.  There’s only that horrible, nasty, dirtiest of dirty words: Discipline. 

Ugh.  Just typing it makes me want to go wash my mouth out with Alfredo sauce.

Yes, discipline is necessary, but it is not the only weapon in my weight loss secret arsenal.  The following steps are my method, but if you’re trying to lose weight, I strongly encourage you to find something that works for you.  It might be my method.  It might be someone else’s method.  It will more likely be a combination of methods, which you have modified to fit your lifestyle.  Who knows?  It might be eating ice cream and chocolate all day, and if it is, man, I want to be you when I grow up.  The trick to effective weight loss is finding a method that works for you—and sticking to it (there’s where that ugly discipline word comes in).

But here’s my method, my secrets to weight loss (I’ve included a list at the end of this blog of ideas for meals and snacks—because I know you all want to be just like me, right? Left.):

Step 1: Be overweight.

Seriously, if you want to lose weight, you should probably be overweight first.  I mean, it helps to actually have weight to lose before you try to lose it.  If you’re overweight, then congratulations!  You’ve already made it through the first step of my method.  Way to go.  Give yourself a gold star.  But don’t carry the celebrations too far—it’s not like you’ve earned yourself a milkshake.  Unless it’s a Slim Fast.

Step 2: Don’t Have Kids.

As a single person, I really don’t know how a person with a spouse and/or kids would go about losing weight.  I work a lot, but when I’m off, I’m off.  I can pop in a dvd and get on my elliptical for an hour.  I can go out early in the morning or late in the evening and go for a jog.  I don’t have to worry about who’s going to watch my kids while I exercise.  Also, I can fix my own portions of food without worrying about what the rest of my family is going to eat. 

Look, I’m not saying that it’s IMPOSSIBLE to lose weight if you have kids, and in fact, I’ve known some people who have.  I just think it’s probably a lot easier for us single peeps. 

Sorry.

…but, if it’s any consolation, I’m sure your kids love you just the way you are.  Aww. 

Don’t hurt me.

Step 3: Be a Calorie Nazi.

Yeah, people always want to know my weight loss secrest—until I actually tell them what I do.  I’ve not been blessed with an awesome metabolism.  I’m not naturally thin.  I’m not one of those people who can eat whatever I want and still wear the pants I wore in middle school.  Actually, I was pretty hefty in middle school, so maybe…but I’m getting off track.  The only way for a person like me to lose weight is to make sure I’m burning off more calories than I’m eating. The only way for me to do that is for me to keep track of all the calories I eat.  Every single one (except for white tic tacs—everyone knows they don’t count).  A person my weight and height doesn’t burn off that daily recommended allowance of 2000 calories.  I probably burn off (without exercise) about 1500-1600 calories a day.  To maintain weight, I probably shouldn’t eat much more than 1500-1600 a day (depending on how much I exercise).  To lose weight, I need to eat less than 1500 calories a day.  Right now, I’m limiting my calories to about 1100-1200. 

Step 4: Read Labels.

This is part of being a calorie Nazi—making sure I know what I’m eating.  The nutrition facts of a lot of foods can be found somewhere on the food packaging.  It’s not that hard to find out what a serving size is and how many calories are in that serving size.  I invested in a food scale from Target—it was all of $5 and I use it multiple times every day.  This way, I know I’m eating the right portions of food.  If I don’t know how many calories are in something, I look it up online.  Google.  What did we ever do without it? 

Yeah.  It sounds tedious, but it’s almost fun.  I’ve got to figure out what I can eat and how much of it I can eat.  It’s like working a puzzle!  Okay, okay.  I didn’t say it was the most fun activity EVER…calm down.

Step 5: Snack Like It’s Going Out of Style.

Snack.  That’s right.  You heard me.  I said snack.  Snack.  Snack like it’s your job.  Snack.  Snack!  SNACK!!!!!

Snack, dieter, snack like the wind! 

Snack down with your bad self. 

Snack…okay, you get it.

Snack is a funny word, isn’t it?  Snack Snack Snack.  But I love this word, because it means I get to eat.  And in fact, I eat every hour and a half or so.  Some mornings I have to wait a little longer between breakfast and my first snack, but throughout the rest of the day, I’m on a pretty tight snacking schedule.  If I miss a snack, horrible things happen.  So I try not to miss them.  Around 8:30-9, I eat a good breakfast of about 150-200 calories.  I eat a 100ish calorie snack at 11 and another at 12:30.  At 2:00, I eat a late lunch that’s about 150-200 calories.  At 3:30, I eat another 100ish calorie snack and another at 5.  I eat dinner at 6:30, which depending on how good I’ve been that day, can be anywhere from 150-300 calories.  I also get a snack around 7:45, which is also dependent on how good I’ve been during the day.  I try to sneak in a little dessert in that last snack.  I love to eat at night, so this gives me an opportunity, as long as I’m done eating all calories by 8 p.m.  My metabolism hates me, so if I eat after 8, I turn into a gremlin my body won’t have time to process the food I ate before I go to sleep. 

I’ve read into the reasoning why snacking is a good idea.  Apparently the food scientist people who are way smarter than I am did some research, and they found out that humans were meant to be grazers.  Like cows.  Moo. 

Yeah, apparently our metabolisms aren’t geared to process three ginormous meals.  The less frequently we eat, the more frequently our metabolism kicks into starvation mode and tries to store fat.  The solution is to eat small snacks throughout the day, instead of putting all our calories into big meals. 

So snack, friends!  Snack away!

Step 6: Remember the Food Pyramid, Plate, Whatever….

When I choose my snacks throughout the day (as well as my meals), I’m not just looking at calories.  I’m making sure I’m getting a healthy balance of fruits and veggies and proteins.  To be honest, I’m not really sure what the recommended daily amount of servings of fruits and veggies is, but I know most people aren’t getting it.  I usually get at least five servings a day (usually more)—which, incidentally, isn’t hard to do when you snack a lot and choose good snacks.

Protein is also pretty important.  Your body needs it, and it also helps you feel fuller.  Whenever I’m looking at labels (see Step 4), my eyes immediately go to calories first, and protein second.  I’m looking to see how much protein there is in comparison to the amount of calories. 

I really am peeved at foods that are packaged as healthy, when they’re really not.  The regular Special K bars are low in calories, but they don’t have much nutrition.  Another culprit is those 100 calorie packs.  Most of them have next to no nutrition.  Just because it’s low calorie doesn’t mean it’s healthy.  But, if you just want something sweet/salty, the 100 calorie packs are convenient and yummy.  I’m just sayin’ that you can eat a single cookie (depending on the cookie) for less than 100 calories, if you really need a fix—and real cookies are usually tastier than the 100 calorie packs.

Step 7: BEWARE THE LOW BLOOD SUGAR MONSTER!!!!

Learn from my fail, peeps, learn from my fail.  If your body is telling you that you need more calories, then eat more calories.  Don’t think you can just muscle your way through it.  If you’re light-headed, if you’re getting “the shakes,” if you’re just being unreasonably cranky and your stomach is shouting “FEED ME SEYMOUR!”…then for Pete’s Dragon’s sake, stop being a moron and EAT SOMETHING.

I’ve learned it’s wise to always have some not-easily-crushable snacks in my purse/bag/car, just in case I don’t have any of my normal food with me and the Low Blood Sugar Monster decides to attack.  (See Appendix…yes…this blog post has an Appendix.  It had a Tonsil once, but I had it removed)

Step 8: Embrace the Truvia!  Embrace it!

Let me take a moment to tell you about how much I love Truvia.  No, they’re not paying me to say this, but they totally should, because I would advertise for them ALL the time.  I’d even wear t-shirts with the Truvia logo, and little Truvia packets for earrings, and I’d wear shoes made out of recycled Truvia boxes.  Hmm...I hope Truvia doesn’t take out a restraining order against me….

Yeah, so if you hadn’t realized it, I love Truvia.  It’s changed my life.  It’s an all natural, no calorie sweetener, which is awesome, because along with being a Calorie Nazi, I’ve also decided to cut out all artificial sweeteners.  Yay me.  Truvia is my new BFF.  It’s made from Stevia, a plant—a sweet tasting no calorie plant of awesomeness—and erythritol, a natural derivative from fruit.  I love Truvia because I can use it without feeling guilty.  I can have sweet tea again!  Oh, sweet tea, how I missed you….

One day, I’m afraid that some health report is going to come out, saying that eating too much Stevia is unhealthy and causes invisibility and/or the tendency to vomit leprechauns…but until then, I’m going to have wild, wild Truvia tea parties, and no one can stop me!

Step 9: Eat Chocolate.

Some dude wrote an article about Stevia (see above) and sweet food cravings.  I couldn’t find a by line, but I know the author of the article was a dude.  I know this because the dude wrote that if a one had enough fresh fruit in a day, then one would never have cravings for chocolate or other sweets. 

A woman would never say that.  The author was definitely a dude.

I’m sorry, but if I was on a diet where I couldn’t eat chocolate, then I’d punch that diet in the face and go eat a carton of ice cream.  If God didn’t want us to enjoy eating, then He wouldn’t have created taste buds.  While a wide variety of foods are enjoyable, there’s nothing wrong with indulging the sweet tooth.  And I mean every day.

The trick to this is to just have a little bit…and to enjoy every bite!  If you want ice cream, eat a half cup of ice cream.  If you want a cookie, eat a cookie.  If you want chocolate, have a piece of chocolate.  If you want a marshmallow, eat a marshmallow—one of my favorite things to do is to toast marshmallows over candles.  It takes several minutes to toast the marshmallow, so I’m not rushing through the experience.  And when I eat chocolate, I’m eating a little bite at a time, savoring it.  So when I’ve eaten my small portion, I don’t feel cheated.  I feel treated.  And I have a great gift for rhyme.  Some of the time.

Step 10: Run, Fatgirl, Run! Or Whatever…

I became a runner by accident.  Last year, one of my bosses told me about a 5K that she was sponsoring.  And because she was sponsoring, I got free registration in the 5K.  I figured, why not?  I hate running, but why not?  I’ve always just stuck with speed walking, but why not?  I look like a limping duck when I try to run, but why not?  Well, the ‘why not’ was because I almost died after running just a half mile.  But for some reason, I stuck with it, and a few weeks later, I was running five miles.  And I liked it.  I became a sicko, a running sicko.  The other day I found out I was getting out of work early, and my first thought?  “YAY!  Now I have time to go running before it gets too dark.”  I’m a sicko, I tell you.

You might not be a running sicko, and that’s okay.  You don’t have to be a running sicko to get exercise.  Do Zoomba (did I even spell that right?).  Do Pilates (not Pontius Pilate…the other type).  Do underwater aerobics.  Do speed walking, if that’s what it takes.  Just find some time to move around more, because honestly the only way to lose weight is to eat less and move around more. 

And I just had the sudden and unpleasant realization that I could have saved you all that reading you just did by saying:

The secret to my weight loss is eating less and moving around more.

The End.

Sorry.

Appendix (Because This Blog Isn’t Long Enough Already):

Breakfast Ideas:

-Quaker Soft Baked Bars: 140 calories. 6 grams of protein.  I would cry if they stopped making these.  I thought they had for a little while, and I almost caused a scene in the grocery store.  They just changed their name.  They used to be called Quaker Life Bars.  For some reason the Quaker company likes to make their consumers almost cause scenes in grocery stores, for they have changed the packaging and/or name of this product three times in the past two years.  But I have forgiven them because their product is freakin’ amazing.  They come in two mindblowing flavors (seriously, my mind is blown every time I eat one): Cinnamon Roll and Banana Nut Bread.  They taste like dessert, but they have lots of vitamins and stuff.  And they’re relatively cheap at under $2.20 for a box of five (at Walmart).  I love them.

-1/2 Peanut Butter and Honey or Jelly Sammich: 150 calories (if made on 50 calorie bread and 180 calorie peanut butter —read labels!)…and just a small dollop of honey or jelly.  I use Walmart brand peanut butter because it’s cheaper and because it has less calories than the other brands.  True story.  For bread, I either use Nature’s Own Whole Wheat (not honey wheat) or the Great Value Walmart Whole Wheat.  Both breads have 50 calories a slice.  There is bread out there with 40 calories a slice, but it’s not whole wheat, and I’m afraid of it.  For jelly, I usually use the Smucker’s low sugar—it only has 25 calories per tablespoon.

-Light Omelet: 140 calories. I use All Whites brand liquid eggs—which is basically just egg whites.  Two servings of that with a ¼ cup 2% shredded cheese is amazing.  I also add a little cilantro, because I have an herb habit.

-Special K and Skim Milk: 150 calories.  I like the kind with the crunchy strawberries.

Lunch Ideas:

-Quaker Soft Baked Bar (see above)

-½ Peanut Butter and Honey or Jelly Sammich (see above)

-Spaghetti Squash: 90 calories for 6 oz of squash.  I love spaghetti squash.  It’s nature’s answer for pasta lovers who can’t have pasta very often.  The squash, when cooked properly, comes off the shell in the form of little noodles.  Of course, it’s no fun to eat the squash without sauce.  I either use spaghetti sauce (Classico’s Ripe Olive and Mushroom is 60 calories per ½ cup), Alfredo Sauce (Market Pantry aka Target Brand Alfredo Sauce is 60 calories per ¼ cup), or Peanut Sauce (Archer Farms aka high class Target Brand Peanut Sauce is 60 calories per 2 tablespoons) w/ a little lemon juice and cilantro for fake pad thai. 

-Turkey Sammich: 140 calories.  Two slices of 50 calorie bread=100 cals.  Two slices of 20 calorie turkey= 40 cals.  Mustard = nada.  Yay Sammich!

Dinner Ideas:

(pair the meats with a serving or two of fresh/frozen veggies) 

-Turkey Burger: 160 calories

-Grilled Chicken: 110 calories

-Tilapia: 100 calories

-Spaghetti Squash w/ sauce: 150 calories

-Progresso Light New England Clam Chowder: About 210 calories per can (2ish servings in can—but who ever eats just one serving of soup??)

-Progresso Light Santa Fe Style Chicken: About 180 calories per can (see above)

-Smart Taste Pasta: 170 for 2 oz. pasta plus 60 more calories for sauce= 230 calories

-Peanut Butter and Honey/Jelly Sammich: 300 calories

Snack Ideas:

--Apple: 70-100 calories.

--Banana: 100-120 calories.

--Carrots: 35 calories per 3 oz.

--Apple Sauce (unsweetened): 50 calories per ½ cup

--Low Sodium V8: 50 calories per 8 oz. (contains 2 servings of veggies!)

--Goldfish crackers (I like the colors b/c the purple ones taste better—true story!  The natural dye is watermelon and beet juice, and it makes the flavor different and yummy): 100 calories for 40 crackers.

--Cucumbers: 15 calories for 100 grams.

--Frozen Peaches: 50 calories for 140 grams.

--Frozen Strawberries: 40 calories for 140 grams.

--I like to mix half a serving of peaches and half a serving of strawberries in a ziplock baggie and leave them in the fridge overnight.  When I’m ready to eat them the next morning, I sprinkle a packet of Truvia over them and eat them right out of the bag.  Soooo good.

--Another word about ziplock baggies.  They are our friends.  When I get veggies, I sometimes have to cut them up.  I used to dread cutting them every single night, but I quickly learned I can set aside one night a week to do all my veggie chopping.  I measure out individual servings (or a couple of servings) into ziplock baggies.  Then I can grab them and go as needed. 

Ideas for Good Protein Snacks:

-Frigo Cheese Heads Light String Cheese: 60 calories, 8 grams of protein

-Egg Whites: 30 calories, 5 grams of protein

-Harris Teeter Naturals Yogurt (I love this because it’s low in calories and still has NO artificial sweeteners) : The Strawberry, Peach, and French Vanilla all have 100 calories and 7 grams of protein.  The Cherry Vanilla and Raspberry Flavors have 130 calories (still not bad) and 7 grams of protein.

-Yoplait Greek Yogurt Cherry Pomegranate Flavor or Coconut: 110 calories for 4 oz. cup, 8 grams protein

-Plain Greek Yogurt makes an excellent veggie dip.  I’ve tried different brands, but most of them are high in protein and low in calorie—especially if you’re just using a tablespoon or so.  Check the labels, because some has less protein than others.

Ideas for Not-Easily-Crushable Emergency Snacks To Ward off Low Blood Sugar Monster:

-100 Calorie Pack Emerald Nuts Almonds

-Archer Farms Organic Fruit Strips- 45 calories

-Quaker Granola Bars - 90 calories for the yummy mint chip cocoa ones

Ideas for Dessert:

-Girl Scout Thin Mints: 80 calories for 2

-Girl Scout Caramel Delights (Samoas): 70 calories each

-Girl Scout Thanks-a-Lot: 75 calories each (taste SO good dunked in decaf coffee)

-Girl Scout Lemonades: 75 calories each

-Marshmallows: 45 calories for 2

-Ice Cream: Lowe’s Foods (if you live where these exist) brand has 90 calorie light ice cream.

-Whoppers: about 11 calories a piece

If you read all of this, wow...you must either be really desperate to lose weight, or you love me a whole lot, or you just really have a lot of time on your hands....  Thanks.

SAA Ep. #59: Something Wrong With The Universe

Sometimes, I'll be watching tv or reading a magazine, and I'll see a model.  A gorgeous female model.  Naturally thin and well-built.  Beautiful hair, eyes, smile.  Perfect (TAN) skin.  And I think to myself, "Self, you could never be her."

To many people, this would seem like an obvious statement.  I'm a lot thinner than I used to be, but I can barely squeeze into my size six jeans--which isn't model thin.  I'm not naturally thin, and I happen to like, you know, eating food, so being a size two or less isn't going to happen to me in this lifetime.  Maybe if I'm a rotting corpse I can fit into some skinny jeans...but I don't think I'd be model material then, either.  And you know, maybe even as a corpse I wouldn't be super thin, because the good Lord saw fit to give me abundant birthing hips (AND a strong desire to never physically have children--just for laughs). 

Despite my aversion to becoming an anorexic, I am also well aware that I'm not pretty enough to be a model.  Don't get me wrong--I'm vain.  I like the way I look.  I just don't look like a supermodel.  My eyes have dark circles.  I have adult acne.  My hair has a mind of it's own, and this mind doesn't like me.  I'm pale enough to be related to Frosty the Snowman.  I'm no model. 

Plus, I don't know how to smile for cameras.  I always look like I'm afraid of the camera.  Maybe I was Amish in another life.  ...never mind the fact that I don't believe in predestination.  ...nor do the Amish....

So anyway, I look at these models and realize that I could never be them.  The reason isn't because of the way I look compared to them.  The reason is because I have always kind of figured that there's something wrong with me.

I went through pretty much my entire life thinking, "There's something wrong with me."  It could have been because the kids liked to gang up on me and throw dodge balls at me during recess...when we weren't even playing dodge ball.  It could be because I used to collect toothpicks.  It could be because I still pride myself on my insane ability to make animal noises.  Idk.  I just know that I didn't really snap out of this mentality until I was well into my twenties.

Then, I developed this theory that there was just something wrong with everybody.  And I still think there's a lot of truth to that.  I'm reminded of an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, which was my favorite show until very recently, when it was replaced by Psych.  I still love you, ST:TNG, but your 80's-90's awesomeness is no comparison to a show that makes fun of 80's-90's awesomeness...with a fake psychic.  I am forced to pause here and consider whether or not the fact that I like Star Trek: The Next Generation so much means that there is something wrong with me.  Probably.  Let's move on.

In this episode, Dr. Beverly Crusher is sucked into some kind of cool alternate universe, which is collapsing.  People keep disappearing, and it's as if they never existed.  She thinks she's going crazy.  Eventually, the universe collapses almost completely, and she's all alone in a universe that's only a few meters wide.  And she says something pretty incredible: "If there's not something wrong with me, maybe there's something wrong with the universe." (Just to put your mind at ease, she is rescued and the universe doesn't eat her.)

So after I got over the idea that there was something wrong with me, I think I figured that there was something wrong with the universe.  Me?  I was just another abnormal person in an abnormal world.  But then, I started looking at supermodels.  I started looking at people who have successful, normal lives.  And I think--how does a person do normal things?  How does a person live a normal life?  Is it, perchance, because these are normal people?  I mean, how does a supermodel become a supermodel?  Does she wake up one day and say, "I'm awesome.  I'm going to go be a supermodel."  Me?  Even if I looked like a supermodel, I have a feeling I'd never be able to say, "I'm awesome.  I'm going to go be a supermodel."  I'd probably say, "Man, I'm hungry.  I'm going to go eat a beef steak."

So, maybe the universe is fine, and maybe there really is just something wrong with me.  And that's okay.  I'm not a supermodel.  I'm a socially awkward superhero.

So, every morning, I get to wake up and say, "I'm going to go save the world!  ...after a nutritious breakfast.  ...and some makeup, because I'm vain.  ...and maybe a tic tac.  ...and lots of coffee.  ...oh, look, a birdie.  ...kumquat is a funny word."