My neuroses, let me show you them

Holy crap. It's Friday. Where have *I* been all week? Let's find out, shall we?

Monday: Attended a networking breakfast - hosted by the same group that put on this event - and was happy to find out the breakfast has improved, but the choice of speakers (unless it's me) kind of sucks. Some old biddy rallied against the uselessness of MySpace, but rah-rahed LinkedIn for about 45 minutes. Wow. You mean you qualify for a senior citizen discount and you don't find Myspace useful? Funny that.

Tuesday: Attended a client's conference and gave a presentation on writing powerful press releases. Given that I hadn't spoken in front of a large group for more than a year, it went well, although all I could hear inside my head the whole time I was talking was BABBLE BABBLE BABBLE MOUTH DRY SWEATING SWEATING MOUTH DRY BABBLE WATER! WATER! BABBLE BABBLE. According to our administrative assistant, I sounded and did fine. She said she took notes during my speech and didn't when others spoke. A rival PR guy, a professional motivational speaker, also spoke. He moved around so much that it was distracting. Maybe he was trying to smoosh the termites that were munching on his shoes. That said, I participated in ONE speech competition in college, which was a horrible, emotionally-scarring event not my thing and I didn't win a national championship, so maybe the nonstop movement is something one does to win. Sienna just said he made her dizzy.

Wednesday: Julianna Margulies. Average day at work. Went home and watched Sideways (again), which is just an awesome movie. Paul Giamatti was ROBBED by not being nominated for an Oscar for his performance.

Also Wednesday: Exercised like a fiend. I did leg lifts to work my inner thighs; 25 arm raises from the side (where I start out with my arms splayed like I'm in a T; I don't know what they're called) with my two-pound weights ; 10 arm raises over my head, also with the weights, which (A) I'm glad I did not drop on myself as that would've hurt and (B) are a lot freakin' heavier than one might think; 50 jumping jacks; and 25 stomach crunches. I wasn't really even that sore on Thursday morning, although my right knee isn't happy with all the jumping jacks action lately. But I am doing them while standing on my exercise mat, so that's helping some.

Thursday: More jumping jacks. Knee still not happy. Read Mr. Monk and the Two Assistants, a book I got from the library a few days ago, along with a bunch of great music, including Volumes I and II of the soundtrack to Six Feet Under. Three words: Best. Show. Ever. I plan to buy both CDs soon.

I didn't know anyone had written Monk novels until I was online requesting the DVDs for season five. It's cute. I'll probably read the others in the series. It was nice to have the TV off last night and just do some reading. I forget how much I like it. Wow. That was impossibly dull. I forgot to mention I was SURROUNDED BY RAPIDLY ADVANCING ALLIGATORS AND SCORPIONS AND BUSY PUNCHING CHUCK NORRIS IN THE FACE THE WHOLE TIME I WAS READING.

Friday: Went to Starbucks drive-through this morning for the first time in ever and spent some of my daily points on a sugar-free, skinny latte (but only about five, which amounts to less than 10 percent of my points). The impossibly chipper barista asked how I was and I told her I was doing well. In return, I asked how she was and there was a pause. Oh, I see. Yours was a rhetorical question. Or, am I to imply from your mucho-caffeinatededness, that you are fine and I should just PLACE MY DAMN ORDER ALREADY THERE ARE SEVEN CARS BEHIND YOU POLITE LADY WHO BY THE WAY LOOKS SMASHING IN A PALE BLUE DENIM JACKET UNDER WHICH IS AN AWESOME BLACK-AND-WHITE-STRIPED BLOUSE.

-ahem-

Around noon, I gathered with my coworkers on my parents' stairway and we took a picture for our company's upcoming anniversary card. We spoofed Deal or No Deal and one of the boys I work with was awesome enough to wear a dress. He went to a thrift store and picked out the dress himself, along with a pair of sensible black pumps. The best part of the photo session was his hand gently smoothing down the back of his skirt every time he bent over to look through the camera lens. He asked me and our admin assistant if one always feels so exposed when wearing a dress and we just sort of agreed.

I was a bit distressed horrified to see myself in the test pictures for the anniversary card. I'm GIGANTIC!! The camera added on the 10 pounds I've lost and apparently about 500 more. I can't even believe I'm allowed to leave the house for I must make big stompy Godzilla crater footprints in the sidewalk as I leave crumbling mortar in my wake. It's difficult because, for one, I've never really felt fat. For those who know me, that might seem weird or silly since I *am* a big girl, but it's true. I'm just me, in my skin. Maybe I've just been fat for so long that I'm just used to it ... and then I see a picture of myself or look in the mirror and it's very distressing. My reality doesn't match actual, uh, reality. It's especially tough lately what with all the exercise I've been doing and the weight loss. I know 10 pounds isn't a huge amount and I know that I'm only 1/15 of my way to my goal, but I guess I feel like I'm 120 pounds and that I look hot - or at least passable, for Goddess' sake, in this outfit or that shirt - and then ... gah. The photographic evidence claims otherwise. All of that said, I'm not giving up. I'm keeping my head up. I marched in place while my Weight Watchers lunch was cooking in the microwave today and when I meet Brent Fantastic for dinner tonight, I will probably eat a salad instead of the bacon cheeseburger drenched in Hershey's syrup and brown sugar that my brain seems to be craving.

Plans for Saturday: WW meeting with Serena tomorrow, followed by a knife, fork, and side of beef sensible, WW-appropriate lunch, and a shopping excursion.

Sunday: Really need to finish the housework I've been putting off since, um, last year or so. Also need to take a nap, get some groceries, and buy cat food so I don't have to nuke pre-cooked meatballs (that are too high in points anyway) so the cats have something to eat. Would also like to go to the bike store and pay for the rest of my bike, even though it will chew up about 3/4 of my available funds for the next two weeks. (Rent is due EVERY month. God!)

Financial concerns aside, I really want to get out and start bike riding. My not-so-patient self says, "I have 140 pounds to lose! Let's get on it!" Patient self says, "I just want to feel the wind in my hair and hopefully being on a bike will encourage spring, which teased us with an appearance last week, to return."

And finally: I read this poem a few days ago and really like it, so I'm sharing it with you. Maybe in addition to WOMAN WOMAN WOMAN Wednesday, I'll start a poetry day. Hmm. It is a thing to consider. I know, this poem is about praying, but it's by Mary Oliver, so it's all good (literally and figuratively):

Praying
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

* * * * *

Happy weekend!