A Passel of Pictures, A Pound That Prickles, A Pack of Paragraphs To Prime the Artistic Pump...and a Book for the Calorie Curious..

Just a various-items type of update, cause this is a transitional week for me, trying to do a lot of things at once while finding the balance. I'm not handling transitioning great, but I intend to get my footing!

I do feel like smiling and laughing again. Father's Day weekend pics are PROOF!

My hubby (with halo) and me.
I really love what the wind did to my hair here.
I wonder how I'd replicate this retro look?
Hair combs? French braid? I like it, though.

Windy-curly smile. Jungle Red lips.

Love the stone with my  dress and hair
My signature colors: red, black, white.

I felt better--mood, energy--but not 100%. I'll get there. (God, please.)  I wore a dress that had been sitting in my closet for months. It fit a little loose, but was comfy and girly. These are genuine smiles, so I'm hoping the remnants of the blues just fade away:

 I stepped on the scale today after the weekend of eating a bit more: 181.6

Hm.

Well, like I said, wobbly transition. Exercise has been....laughably minimal.

I downloaded THIS BOOK to my Kindle. I figure it will remind me to keep on top of calories, as maintenance requires it. And ease off the sugar-free chocolate. The preview for it was very interesting, and I like science-ey stuff.

The writing: Well, I sat down and wrote nine paragraphs. Okay, so some were only one-liners. But hey, I wrote. Yay, me.

Doesn't sound like much, does it? But nine paragraphs raise a story question, introduce a character with a special trait, add a deviation from the norm, and maybe make you want to read more, even if it's preliminary, warm-the-brain-up crap after 5 years of writing pretty much bupkis.

Behold the rough crap:

Luisa was used to seeing what others missed. Hurrying to the office on an early summer morning, she couldn’t help but notice them.

The beautiful ones faced eastward, every single one.

Whether dressed in suits and ties or shorts and tees, whether masculine or feminine or that intriguing androgyny that smiled from the space between, all sat or leaned or stood in postures of expectation. This one stood bowing a bit forward on muscular feet, and the only thing that kept him from tumbling into the gutter was a tanned hand balanced lightly on a parking meter. That one with sat with a Cuban pastry untouched on a paper plate in front of her, head tilted to the right, utterly white hair a frothy cascade against the black of her black jacket. Another sat with elbows on bare knees, an expression less patient than his comrades. And that one there, he (or perhaps she) paused in sipping her  (or his) latte, lips parted, as if already caught by some wonderful matter only they-- these assorted staring beauties --could see.

They did not read newspapers or novels or the faces of passersby hurrying to work, as Luisa had been. They did not type or swipe on gleaming gadgets du jour.

They stood out, even among the usual mix of attractive residents and workers. They drew attention, and didn't care. They ignored everything other than what they look at that way…east. 

Luisa stopped walking--fine, so she was late already, a few more minutes didn't matter-- and followed their gazes.

Nothing struck her as stare-worthy in the regular sights from the parking garage to her office: inviting eateries and freshly-opened shops catering to the younger, urban, vigorously trendy crowd that had moved in over the last couple years. Nouveau or vegan or organic or fusion whatnot.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

But there they were, those exquisite creatures with their unwavering attention to--what?

Yes, my rusty brain is being asked to create. It's not easy going from nil movement to acceleration creatively; but it was actually, I dunno, let's say I felt this sense of, "Oh, that's right, this can feel good and tingly!"

The paragraphs may or may not be relevant. It may simply be an 'oiling the machinery' exercise. But it still felt good to overcome inertia and WRITE SOMETHING. My intention is to go back to one of my two preferred fantasy manuscripts and enter those worlds again. But this might end up a story. Ya never know.

Okay, that's it for the update. Be well, folks. Let me know if you get the book! (Or if you're writing fiction, too.)

Oh, and you may note that I changed the blog's name and subtitle. It's no longer Two Years to Happy Weight After....

A Somecard to cover my current status...

Fight the fear.

Be well...

Still Down a bit; Still Up A Bit; Time for Maintenance; and Working to Transition to Creative Project While Not Losing all Weight Loss Habits...

I'm at 180.0.
I'm still feeling down and apathetic.
I have barely left my house in the last 3.5 weeks.
I haven't gotten together with family since Mother's Day.

Yes, this is not good and this does not make me happy.

That I'm not right back into obesity (ie, 185+ pounds for me) is a miracle. Some good habits have held, thank God. But they can slip so easily. So easily. I see an extra portion here and there. Days with hardly any movement.

On the plus side:

I walked day before yesterday, 25 minutes, at night to counter my heat intolerance. It was nice, if a little scary: I live in a high crime area, so walking at night solo is a risk.

I marched in place yesterday for 15 minutes and did some stretches. I managed a teaser on my yoga a few times. So, I was happy.  Even late last year, I couldn't do that.

One of my reasons for losing weight was to improve my health and focus so I could tackle writing again. For those who haven't been reading my blogs for years, I used to write (poetry, fiction--both short and novel length-- and edit for online SF mags).  I won a few contests, started networking with fellow writers, and then had two editors from two publishing houses I was targeting ask to see my manuscript. Both were enthusiastic. Both contacted me; I did not contact them. They'd seen my chapter and were excited.

I freaked. All my neuroses went on hyper. I stopped being able to write. Blocked. It's been five years now. My fear overtook me.

So, getting healthy was about overcoming my blocks and compulsions, but I needed health to do that. So tackling my weight was the big #1 project to open doors to the things I want to do before I die. Like organize my life/home/finances. Like travel. Like socialize like normal folks, instead of being an urban hermint. Like write. And not just write ONE thing. Make writing a part of my life. Earn money doing it. :)

I've pretty much accepted that my body doesn't want to go lower than this maintenance range I've been in for more than 7 months. The sacrifices in burning calories and lowering food intake are not feasible for me. We all come to conclusions about what we are WILLING to do, willing to suffer, willing to put out for an outcome.

I'm not willing to sacrifice more for a slimmer physique.

This is it. I have hit the wall and the wall is okay. I am not unhappy at this weight. As long as I don't slack on exercising--like I have with this depression--as long as I get back to consistent working out, I can live well here. 178 to 181 is not a range that disgusts me.

I accept it.

If later, I want to tackle it strongly again, I'll reconsider. But mentally and physically, I seem to have hit the place where eating modestly (1600 calories) and working out without feverishness has settled me.

I am content, if not deleriously pleased. :)

I want to move on to the other big projects. Organization and Creating with Words.

I can't give the last 20 lbs my undivided focus when I have to move forward. Time is fleeting. I can live at this weight. So, I will now focus on MAINTENANCE. I may have to shift to another blog name, since I am no longer focused on hitting 160 by Sept 3. I am focused on maintaining this range I've been maintaining (177 to 181 or so) while doing the other projects.

How this transition will happen, blog-wise, I'm not sure. I may rename this one, or open another blog. But I need to move on to finding my writing and organization mojo (they are linked, in my mind).

With the iffiness of hubby's employment situation--his company is doing big layoffs--organization and financial revamping becomes even more key. We may have to move cross-country. Who knows? Hope not, but preparation can't hurt. Just in case.  I want to think of it as an adventure, and fight my neuroses telling me it's panic time.

I'm hoping FERVENTLY that my creative brain didn't decay too much through disuse these last 5 years. If I created something that interested editors in 2006 and 2007, then I can do it again. I hope. :D  It will take months to get back into writer mode. I start..today!

There ya go. This is where I am. Moving along to Projects 2 (and 3).  Yep. This one panel comic says it for me:

Be well...

Heat Intolerance sucks

I went walking for the first time in 3 weeks yesterday with hubby. We waited until evening so it was a bit cooler. We've had hot, humid weather. Lots of thunderstorms (what kept me inside at first, then the mood issues demotivated me.)

I could barely tolerate it. Made it through 20 minutes only by focusing.  I felt so hot and weak, like I was gonna pass out. My legs were shaky. I was panting. I felt woozy.

 I'll note that I did my Pilates session with my trainer and got through it fine. Indoors. With a/c.  But the heat/humidity outside got to me. 8pm and it was overcast, humid, and in the 80s.

I walked fine all last summer, even in humid weather, and that was when I was a bit hypothyroid, so I was feeling "chilly", as hypothyroid folks will tend to when they are a bit out of range. I was comfy for the most part last summer, and enjoyed having a time outside.

I guess when I see the endo in July (regularly scheduled appt), I'll find out if she needs to tweak me. I want to be able to walk again, but it's a fine line where I am euthyroid, and it's hard to STAY there.

Heat intolerance is tough. I start hyperventilating, feeling weak, feeling like I'm gonna burn up and pass out. Hate it. Wish I had a normal thyroid and didn't have to keep adjusting meds with weight changes or after active thyroiditis incidents. Well, you do what you can and keep the faith that medical science progress improves the situation.

I miss walking now. Wish someone could follow me around blasting icy air. :D

Be well...