Picture me.
I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room.
I am covered in a thin film of greyish dust.
I am sneezing a lot.
My hair is a mess, tangled and unwashed (and dusty! Don't forget that part!) and pinned back with an alligator clip.
On the floor in front of me is the vacuum cleaner.
Wait, wait, go back.... about a month ago...
"Thomas, dear?"
"Yes?"
"Could you look at the vacuum when you have some time? It's making some weird noises."
"Sure."
About two weeks ago...
"Thomas?"
"Yes?"
"Have you had time to look at the vacuum?"
"Oh, I forgot. I'll do it this weekend."
Yesterday...
"I need to vacuum tomorrow before Jeanne gets here."
"Ok?"
"You still haven't looked at the vacuum like I asked?"
"Oh, right. I'll get it tomorrow after work."
This morning...
Me, staring at the vacuum. "Ok, fine. I'll look at the bloody thing."
Some time later...
I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room.
I am covered in a thin film of greyish dust.
I am sneezing a lot.
My hair is a mess, tangled and unwashed (and dusty! Don't forget that part!) and pinned back with an alligator clip.
On the floor in front of me is the vacuum cleaner.
I'm not really very mechanically inclined, but really, taking the wretched thing apart wasn't that hard. Dirty, yes, but not hard.
I opened the bottom, pulled out the roller brush (and a whole lot of hair, dust and bits of paper.). The belt came out, too. Snapped.
"Aha!" says I. "This would be why it's not working."
I get up, go to the computer, and look up a replacement belt. Easy. $3.99, plus shipping and handling.
I go back to the vacuum and begin cleaning it. May as well, since it's open anyway.
In attempting to put the roller brush back in, I notice that the side of it is badly mangled, and when inserted into its position, doesn't actually turn.
"Well, guess that's why the belt broke," says me.
I get BACK up, go BACK to the computer, and look up a replacement roller brush. Easy. $19.99, plus shipping and handling.
I go BACK to the vacuum. I look at it. "You are really a lot of trouble," I inform it.
It doesn't say anything. Vacuums seldom do.
Around the vacuum is a huge cloud of dust and debris. The new parts probably won't arrive for at least a week.
My floor is a mess.
SIGH.
I'm going to have to plug in the mini-attachment and vacuum the entire floor while crawling around on my hands and knees.
- Lynn
- Chesapeake, VA, United States
- "How does one become a butterfly?" she asked pensively. "You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar." - Trina Paulus, Hope for the Flowers
Showing posts with label Flylady. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flylady. Show all posts
Friday, June 20, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)
I've been a pretty busy woman this year.
I decided - probably in November, I think - that I needed to make some changes to my life before I got mired down in unending disasters, both of the house and of the self.
Problem:
My house was always a mess, and about once every three months, my husband would get really huffy and spend an entire weekend cleaning. I'd help, but we wouldn't talk to each other while we were doing it, and we were both angry about the whole thing; him because I wasn't really doing my job of cleaning the house and me because he was being sort of a dick about the fact that I wasn't doing my job, and because he was slamming things around and just being unpleasant.
Problem:
Diabetes was looming in my future pretty loudly. My A1-C was "worrisome". I was expanding in all directions like some out of control roman army. I was in size 24s and a few 26s. I never looked good, I rarely felt good. I was sweating, all the time. Even sitting still in an air-conditioned room.
Problem:
My daughter was having some late-development problems. Her language skills were basically non-existent. She was painfully shy around people she didn't know. She wasn't at all well-adapted to go on to school in the fall.
Problem:
My husband and I were co-existing. We didn't talk as much as we used to. Our sex life was becoming infrequent. We weren't fighting more; but even that was worrisome. We weren't fighting at all, and for us, that's a problem. It usually means there are too many things we're not saying.
Problem:
I just wasn't happy. Not with myself, not with my life, not with anything. I can't say I could complain of misery, because certainly it wasn't that. But little things just kept piling up and not being dealt with. I was ignoring things that needed attention. I was behind on bills. I was behind on everything. And I wasn't doing anything. I don't just mean not doing anything about the problems, I mean not doing anything AT ALL.
I'm a big fan of lists, as any of you who've read here for any length of time will know. I love lists.
Back in December, I took a tw0-week evaluation of my life. I wrote it down, every time I was angry or upset, why I was angry and upset and what I was doing at the time.
I didn't try to analyze it, or categorize anything. That was for later. What I wanted just then was a list.
Here's a sample, copied from those lists:
I'm sure you can all see where this is going.
Because the house was a mess, it was taking longer to do things. In order to cook dinner, I was having to clean the kitchen first. That meant dinner was late. Often dinner wasn't even made; we ordered pizza, or got take out instead. When Thomas and I first got married, I cooked dinner 5 nights a week, we ate out once, and one night a week he was "on his own" for dinner, and I would have a bagel or something. I kept frozen snacks and whatnot on hand for him to eat.
As time progressed, I got to the point where I was cooking dinner no more than twice a week, and he was "on his own" for three or four nights, and we ate out once or twice a week.
We rarely had any "extra" money in case the car broke down, or there was an unexpected expense. Christmas was a major hassle for me, and one that often had me considering how, exactly, I could unload five or six friends, so that I didn't have to buy them presents; and more importantly, they wouldn't give me MORE STUFF that I didn't have a place for.
Some of these problems there were solutions for; go on a diet (OK, since I've been yelled at this a few times, I'm just going to say this one more time and then you're on your own, people. DIET is easier to type than "lifestyle change". Besides, in this culture, "lifestyle change" to me sounds like I've decided to divorce my husband and shack up with Leslie, the incredibly hot girl at my weight watcher's meetings, and while that's not entirely unappealing in fantasy, it's not going to happen. I recognize that I'm going to be on DIET for the rest of my life; that I can never go back to "eating like normal" because this IS my new normal. And if I said this doesn't depress the hell out of me sometimes, I'd be lying. I recognize the truth; putting a fancy multisyllabic label on it doesn't make it less depressing. Aside from that, I tend to say "lifestyle change" with heavy sarcasm and the finger quotes around it, which certainly isn't having the intended placebo vocabulatory effect. There. Enough lecture. And I don't want to hear about it again? Ok? OK.) clean the house and keep it clean, etc.
But it did seem to me that, looking things over carefully, the main problem was ME. Everything else was symptoms of that overwhelming single problem (Ok, so maybe not Darcy's development problems) in that I just wasn't happy with myself.
Quite a long time ago, a friend asked me "Is your problem with where you live, or is your problem something you're just going to take with you when you go?" I was wanting desperately to move away from Lynchburg and get back to the Williamsburg/Newport News/Hampton Roads area where all my friends were. (In this, we didn't quite succeed, because while we do see our friends slightly more living down here, it's still not entirely as much social life as I would like.) It's a question that's well worth the considering. Is the solution I see actually going to fix my problem, or is it like putting a band aid on an open arterial wound?
The core problem: I didn't like myself anymore. I was fat. I was lazy. I was not being a good parent. I was not being a good wife. I didn't have any sense of purpose. My writing had fallen by the wayside of not being able to concentrate while Darcy was constantly asking for attention. I had no... accomplishments.
The solution: Fix and Change what can be fixed and changed.
I'm not happy with the way I look, or feel: I can change my eating habits.
I'm not happy with the way the house looks: I can change my cleaning habits.
I'm not happy with my marriage: I can become more the partner that I think I should be.
Of course, once having defined the problems, and the solutions, one must come up with a plan to implement those solutions. On the other hand, these aren't entirely uncommon problems, therefore, why go through the effort of reinventing the wheel. Surely, someone out there has a plan for me?
Enter Weight Watchers. It has the tools I need to manage my eating. Journaling, the 8 Healthy Guidelines, Activity Points, mostly clear eating guidelines (there are some things, especially on Flex, that don't seem particularly clear to me!), support structures, accountability weigh ins, and reasonable expectations.
Enter Flylady. This took me a while to find, actually. If you ask a typical person (no matter how disorganized they are) about housecleaning, most people would say that cleaning the house is easy, it's just that they don't have time for it. (Which, of course, as a Stay at Home Mom, always makes me feel worse, since if there's anything I seem to have in abundance, it's time. I don't, really, but I always feel like I should. And certainly other people feel like I should. If you're a Stay at Home Mom, you know how it goes, and if you're not, I can't possibly explain to you the condescending attitude, the contempt, and the disregard that I have to put up with from time to time by COMPLETE STRANGERS.)
I didn't find Flylady until one of my friends gave me the word CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). I found that extremely funny - not to mention extremely accurate - and started using it immediately. A week or so later, when I used it, talking to someone else, they asked me if I did Flylady. I said no, and moved on. But then, I was curious. What the hell was Flylady?
Flylady, like Weight Watchers, is a tool. It's a way to get things into shape that have been out of shape. And a way to do it gradually, to set reasonable expectations, and certainly, actual methodology on how to go about doing it. (That's one of the things I like about weight watchers and flylady. Specific. Instructions. Anyone can tell you "set goals, set up a plan" but that's such empty advice and it really doesn't help if you have no idea what a reasonable goal is, or how to get there.)
The FLY part of Flylady stands for Finally Loving Yourself. This is a goal and a thought I can really get behind. Housewives are SHEs (Sidetracked Home Executives). And cleaning your home is "blessing your family."
So, the surprising thing is: Having started the process towards working on those two items that I could change, the other things have changed as well.
My husband and I are closer now than we were at this point last year; back to being silly-crazy in love with each other. (I don't think we ever came close to falling out of love with each other, but it's sometimes harder to express love for others when you're so damned busy hating on yourself that you really begin to question why a rational human being could love you. And if that's the case, then what the hell are you doing with this whacko who can't possibly see what a worthless lump you are?)
And strangely enough - without very much help from me - Darcy has come into her own. I've assisted when I can with outings to see other kids her own age, and by providing workbooks and more educational computer programs and television. But I don't think those things did it all. I guess she was just ready to start talking mostly in English. She still reverts into her nonsense language when she's upset, or if she wants something but she doesn't know what it's called. (As a note: when she doesn't know what something is, she describes it by color. "I want the brown..." "The brown what?" This could be anything from a gold cloisonnes butterfly on my desk - I guess gold is close to brown, and if you don't know what color gold is... to a chocolate ice cream bar.)
All things considered: I'm pretty FLY, (for a white guy).
Post Script: Almost forgot about the weigh in thing. Which in a way, is good. I'm up .2 pounds this week, but I forgot about it because I'm not really all that upset about it. I was a little ticked last night, but 1) this week is my ovulation week, which seems to always be a week that I either gain or maintain and 2) .2 pounds really isn't that much of a gain. Mostly, I think I was ticked about it last night because I was so close to my 35 pounds that I thought for sure I'd get it this week. Now I won't. But probably, I'll get it next week. I'm now .6 away from it instead of .4, but I don't think losing .6 pounds by next week is impossible,
I decided - probably in November, I think - that I needed to make some changes to my life before I got mired down in unending disasters, both of the house and of the self.
Problem:
My house was always a mess, and about once every three months, my husband would get really huffy and spend an entire weekend cleaning. I'd help, but we wouldn't talk to each other while we were doing it, and we were both angry about the whole thing; him because I wasn't really doing my job of cleaning the house and me because he was being sort of a dick about the fact that I wasn't doing my job, and because he was slamming things around and just being unpleasant.
Problem:
Diabetes was looming in my future pretty loudly. My A1-C was "worrisome". I was expanding in all directions like some out of control roman army. I was in size 24s and a few 26s. I never looked good, I rarely felt good. I was sweating, all the time. Even sitting still in an air-conditioned room.
Problem:
My daughter was having some late-development problems. Her language skills were basically non-existent. She was painfully shy around people she didn't know. She wasn't at all well-adapted to go on to school in the fall.
Problem:
My husband and I were co-existing. We didn't talk as much as we used to. Our sex life was becoming infrequent. We weren't fighting more; but even that was worrisome. We weren't fighting at all, and for us, that's a problem. It usually means there are too many things we're not saying.
Problem:
I just wasn't happy. Not with myself, not with my life, not with anything. I can't say I could complain of misery, because certainly it wasn't that. But little things just kept piling up and not being dealt with. I was ignoring things that needed attention. I was behind on bills. I was behind on everything. And I wasn't doing anything. I don't just mean not doing anything about the problems, I mean not doing anything AT ALL.
I'm a big fan of lists, as any of you who've read here for any length of time will know. I love lists.
Back in December, I took a tw0-week evaluation of my life. I wrote it down, every time I was angry or upset, why I was angry and upset and what I was doing at the time.
I didn't try to analyze it, or categorize anything. That was for later. What I wanted just then was a list.
Here's a sample, copied from those lists:
Monday, Dec 17
3:21PM
Tripped over Darcy's stool. Again. Bruise on leg, yelled at her. She cried. More frustrated. Was getting snack. Grrr.
Tuesday, Dec 18
6:48PM
Thomas & Darcy both complaining about dinner. Had to do dishes to find kitchen. Hand washed pot and broke nail. Dinner late, and not very good.
9:15PM
Ordered pizza. Annoyed at spending money. Moved money from savings to checking. Getting to under $500 there. Worried about Christmas presents.
I'm sure you can all see where this is going.
Because the house was a mess, it was taking longer to do things. In order to cook dinner, I was having to clean the kitchen first. That meant dinner was late. Often dinner wasn't even made; we ordered pizza, or got take out instead. When Thomas and I first got married, I cooked dinner 5 nights a week, we ate out once, and one night a week he was "on his own" for dinner, and I would have a bagel or something. I kept frozen snacks and whatnot on hand for him to eat.
As time progressed, I got to the point where I was cooking dinner no more than twice a week, and he was "on his own" for three or four nights, and we ate out once or twice a week.
We rarely had any "extra" money in case the car broke down, or there was an unexpected expense. Christmas was a major hassle for me, and one that often had me considering how, exactly, I could unload five or six friends, so that I didn't have to buy them presents; and more importantly, they wouldn't give me MORE STUFF that I didn't have a place for.
Some of these problems there were solutions for; go on a diet (OK, since I've been yelled at this a few times, I'm just going to say this one more time and then you're on your own, people. DIET is easier to type than "lifestyle change". Besides, in this culture, "lifestyle change" to me sounds like I've decided to divorce my husband and shack up with Leslie, the incredibly hot girl at my weight watcher's meetings, and while that's not entirely unappealing in fantasy, it's not going to happen. I recognize that I'm going to be on DIET for the rest of my life; that I can never go back to "eating like normal" because this IS my new normal. And if I said this doesn't depress the hell out of me sometimes, I'd be lying. I recognize the truth; putting a fancy multisyllabic label on it doesn't make it less depressing. Aside from that, I tend to say "lifestyle change" with heavy sarcasm and the finger quotes around it, which certainly isn't having the intended placebo vocabulatory effect. There. Enough lecture. And I don't want to hear about it again? Ok? OK.) clean the house and keep it clean, etc.
But it did seem to me that, looking things over carefully, the main problem was ME. Everything else was symptoms of that overwhelming single problem (Ok, so maybe not Darcy's development problems) in that I just wasn't happy with myself.
Quite a long time ago, a friend asked me "Is your problem with where you live, or is your problem something you're just going to take with you when you go?" I was wanting desperately to move away from Lynchburg and get back to the Williamsburg/Newport News/Hampton Roads area where all my friends were. (In this, we didn't quite succeed, because while we do see our friends slightly more living down here, it's still not entirely as much social life as I would like.) It's a question that's well worth the considering. Is the solution I see actually going to fix my problem, or is it like putting a band aid on an open arterial wound?The core problem: I didn't like myself anymore. I was fat. I was lazy. I was not being a good parent. I was not being a good wife. I didn't have any sense of purpose. My writing had fallen by the wayside of not being able to concentrate while Darcy was constantly asking for attention. I had no... accomplishments.
The solution: Fix and Change what can be fixed and changed.
The Serenity PrayerI can't always - or even often - change the world around me. But I can change myself. And I can change how I react to things.
(edited for us godless heathens)
Grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking this world as it is,
not as I would have it;
Trusting that I may be
reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy
Forever in the next.
I'm not happy with the way I look, or feel: I can change my eating habits.
I'm not happy with the way the house looks: I can change my cleaning habits.
I'm not happy with my marriage: I can become more the partner that I think I should be.
Of course, once having defined the problems, and the solutions, one must come up with a plan to implement those solutions. On the other hand, these aren't entirely uncommon problems, therefore, why go through the effort of reinventing the wheel. Surely, someone out there has a plan for me?
Enter Weight Watchers. It has the tools I need to manage my eating. Journaling, the 8 Healthy Guidelines, Activity Points, mostly clear eating guidelines (there are some things, especially on Flex, that don't seem particularly clear to me!), support structures, accountability weigh ins, and reasonable expectations.
Enter Flylady. This took me a while to find, actually. If you ask a typical person (no matter how disorganized they are) about housecleaning, most people would say that cleaning the house is easy, it's just that they don't have time for it. (Which, of course, as a Stay at Home Mom, always makes me feel worse, since if there's anything I seem to have in abundance, it's time. I don't, really, but I always feel like I should. And certainly other people feel like I should. If you're a Stay at Home Mom, you know how it goes, and if you're not, I can't possibly explain to you the condescending attitude, the contempt, and the disregard that I have to put up with from time to time by COMPLETE STRANGERS.)
I didn't find Flylady until one of my friends gave me the word CHAOS (Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome). I found that extremely funny - not to mention extremely accurate - and started using it immediately. A week or so later, when I used it, talking to someone else, they asked me if I did Flylady. I said no, and moved on. But then, I was curious. What the hell was Flylady?
Flylady, like Weight Watchers, is a tool. It's a way to get things into shape that have been out of shape. And a way to do it gradually, to set reasonable expectations, and certainly, actual methodology on how to go about doing it. (That's one of the things I like about weight watchers and flylady. Specific. Instructions. Anyone can tell you "set goals, set up a plan" but that's such empty advice and it really doesn't help if you have no idea what a reasonable goal is, or how to get there.)
The FLY part of Flylady stands for Finally Loving Yourself. This is a goal and a thought I can really get behind. Housewives are SHEs (Sidetracked Home Executives). And cleaning your home is "blessing your family."
So, the surprising thing is: Having started the process towards working on those two items that I could change, the other things have changed as well.
My husband and I are closer now than we were at this point last year; back to being silly-crazy in love with each other. (I don't think we ever came close to falling out of love with each other, but it's sometimes harder to express love for others when you're so damned busy hating on yourself that you really begin to question why a rational human being could love you. And if that's the case, then what the hell are you doing with this whacko who can't possibly see what a worthless lump you are?)
And strangely enough - without very much help from me - Darcy has come into her own. I've assisted when I can with outings to see other kids her own age, and by providing workbooks and more educational computer programs and television. But I don't think those things did it all. I guess she was just ready to start talking mostly in English. She still reverts into her nonsense language when she's upset, or if she wants something but she doesn't know what it's called. (As a note: when she doesn't know what something is, she describes it by color. "I want the brown..." "The brown what?" This could be anything from a gold cloisonnes butterfly on my desk - I guess gold is close to brown, and if you don't know what color gold is... to a chocolate ice cream bar.)
All things considered: I'm pretty FLY, (for a white guy).
Post Script: Almost forgot about the weigh in thing. Which in a way, is good. I'm up .2 pounds this week, but I forgot about it because I'm not really all that upset about it. I was a little ticked last night, but 1) this week is my ovulation week, which seems to always be a week that I either gain or maintain and 2) .2 pounds really isn't that much of a gain. Mostly, I think I was ticked about it last night because I was so close to my 35 pounds that I thought for sure I'd get it this week. Now I won't. But probably, I'll get it next week. I'm now .6 away from it instead of .4, but I don't think losing .6 pounds by next week is impossible,
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Lynn's Karmic Challenge
I just finished up doing this with a group of ladies from my Weight Watchers message boards, and I thought I'd offer an open invitation to do the same thing here...
Karmic balance!
We could all use some good karma points, right?
So, here's my offer. I have several pieces of nice/like new clothes in sizes that I no longer fit into. (24/26 and 4X for the most part) I don't need them any more, and I know there are loads of people out there who are on a different stage of their own weight loss journey who can probably wear them.
Below are some pictures, along with a description of the item. If you want it, it's yours. I will ship it to you - entirely at my own expense! - as soon as we work out arrangements. (Leave a comment in the blog, telling me what you want, and an email address for me to get in contact with you, and I'll make arrangements for shipping.) I'll also include with every item I send out a few "special" things that I've got - it could be a tube of lip gloss, or some scented body spray, or a USB-drive - totally random. All I ask in return is that when you're going through YOUR closet, that you re-gift to someone else.
Three weeks ago, I sent out a 3X belt with cupcakes on it that I'd gotten from Torrid last year to a girl in Canada. I included a deck of cards with 52 things to do when you're feeling blue, a tube of cherry glitter lip gloss, and a pair of cherry earrings. She was THRILLED to no end when her package arrived. Life had been really rotten for her recently, and a cute little care package from someone she only knows from a newsgroup really made her day.
Today, in the mail, I got a package from the girl who's one down from me... Jenny mailed me a pair of shorts with a bright flower print belt, a pair of capris, and a tinker bell t-shirt (she said she had never even worn this last one, her weight had dropped so quickly, and winter lasted longer than she expected, so she'd sized right out of the thing without ever having done more than tried it on a few times.) And I was thrilled!
So, here's the things that I have in my dresser that need to go... if you want them, please let me know. If you know someone who might want them, point them at this post!
This first pair of capris are size 24. They came from Torrid, and are made from denim. They have huge brassy buttons on the cuffs and near the pocket gromets. Very comfortable, but a little worn, as these have been my favorite pants most of the winter, so there are some fade spots here and there.
There's a size 3X sleeveless vest that goes with these pants (not pictured) that has matching buttons up the front and a tie in the back. I've never worn the vest because the buttons need to be sewn back into place (they were very loose in the store, so they marked the piece down by $20, but I never got around to sewing them back on...)
This second pair of pants, also a size 24 and also from Torrid, is one of those cropped pairs of pants. There's a pair of buttons at the bottom of each leg where you can roll the pants up to the cuff length you want and button them in place.
I've worn these a few times, and they desperately need to be ironed (which I won't do before mailing them out because I hate ironing ;-) ) but they're in very good shape. I got them on sale last autumn.
Similarly (not pictured) there's a pair of red capris in almost the same style, except instead of buttons, you can tie he cuffs up. They're the same size, and bright red, but I wore them less because they ended up not being the best color for my skin.
These are a size 24 black khaki style pants, from Mossimo (one of the various clothing companies that Target carries) They were a little bit on the big side, even for 24s, but very comfortable.
They're "walking pants" length, which means for me (being short) they were almost the perfect pant length, but they might be a little cropped on someone with longer legs than mine.
These shorts are a 24, and if you were around in the 80's, they're very 80's style... deliberate 'holes' in the fronts, and torn off legs. The ink stain near the right hand pocket is my fault tho... my husband left a pen in his shirt pocket and I didn't get it out before doing the laundry...
They are, however, VERY comfortable and great for doing things in when you don't mind if you get a little dirty.
This little sweater/cover up thingie is a size 4X mesh cropped top. It's got a name, I've just forgotten what it is. It's from Torrid, and really doesn't do much of anything - it's not good for keeping warmer, unless it's just a touch breezy, but it does LOOK cute. Forgive the model here, but I couldn't figure out any other way to show you what it looked like.
This is a size 22 skirt, black and psuedo-lacy panels in it. I got it with a gift card birthday present last year and have probably
worn it about 8 times since then. Like the pants, it should be ironed (but won't be, because I hate ironing.) I bought it specifically to go with the above cropped sweater, and the two do look quite charming together.
This skirt is a 26, a very professional-looking plaid in dark red, tan and brown. It's lined on the inside for comfort, and it's wool, so it's nice and warm. I bought it a
nd a matching sweater to wear for a Christmas party, then the sweater's sleeves fell off the first time I tried to wear it (long story) and I never could find a replacement for the sweater. Nothing else I own goes well with it, so I never wore it at all.
There's also a blue jean skirt, size 24, that I don't have a picture of either (there's something wrong with my camera, and it's not saving all the images...) that's very nice, also Mossimo, comes to about the bottom of the knee, and hasn't been worn much, maybe 10 times altogether, since I got it.
If you're interested in participating in the Karmic Challenge and you have clothing of your own that you'd like to find a new home for, make a post on your own blog and let me know. I'll link to you here to direct readers to sizes that might fit them better!
Karmic balance!
We could all use some good karma points, right?
So, here's my offer. I have several pieces of nice/like new clothes in sizes that I no longer fit into. (24/26 and 4X for the most part) I don't need them any more, and I know there are loads of people out there who are on a different stage of their own weight loss journey who can probably wear them.
Below are some pictures, along with a description of the item. If you want it, it's yours. I will ship it to you - entirely at my own expense! - as soon as we work out arrangements. (Leave a comment in the blog, telling me what you want, and an email address for me to get in contact with you, and I'll make arrangements for shipping.) I'll also include with every item I send out a few "special" things that I've got - it could be a tube of lip gloss, or some scented body spray, or a USB-drive - totally random. All I ask in return is that when you're going through YOUR closet, that you re-gift to someone else.
Three weeks ago, I sent out a 3X belt with cupcakes on it that I'd gotten from Torrid last year to a girl in Canada. I included a deck of cards with 52 things to do when you're feeling blue, a tube of cherry glitter lip gloss, and a pair of cherry earrings. She was THRILLED to no end when her package arrived. Life had been really rotten for her recently, and a cute little care package from someone she only knows from a newsgroup really made her day.
Today, in the mail, I got a package from the girl who's one down from me... Jenny mailed me a pair of shorts with a bright flower print belt, a pair of capris, and a tinker bell t-shirt (she said she had never even worn this last one, her weight had dropped so quickly, and winter lasted longer than she expected, so she'd sized right out of the thing without ever having done more than tried it on a few times.) And I was thrilled!
So, here's the things that I have in my dresser that need to go... if you want them, please let me know. If you know someone who might want them, point them at this post!This first pair of capris are size 24. They came from Torrid, and are made from denim. They have huge brassy buttons on the cuffs and near the pocket gromets. Very comfortable, but a little worn, as these have been my favorite pants most of the winter, so there are some fade spots here and there.
There's a size 3X sleeveless vest that goes with these pants (not pictured) that has matching buttons up the front and a tie in the back. I've never worn the vest because the buttons need to be sewn back into place (they were very loose in the store, so they marked the piece down by $20, but I never got around to sewing them back on...)
This second pair of pants, also a size 24 and also from Torrid, is one of those cropped pairs of pants. There's a pair of buttons at the bottom of each leg where you can roll the pants up to the cuff length you want and button them in place.I've worn these a few times, and they desperately need to be ironed (which I won't do before mailing them out because I hate ironing ;-) ) but they're in very good shape. I got them on sale last autumn.
Similarly (not pictured) there's a pair of red capris in almost the same style, except instead of buttons, you can tie he cuffs up. They're the same size, and bright red, but I wore them less because they ended up not being the best color for my skin.These are a size 24 black khaki style pants, from Mossimo (one of the various clothing companies that Target carries) They were a little bit on the big side, even for 24s, but very comfortable.
They're "walking pants" length, which means for me (being short) they were almost the perfect pant length, but they might be a little cropped on someone with longer legs than mine.
These shorts are a 24, and if you were around in the 80's, they're very 80's style... deliberate 'holes' in the fronts, and torn off legs. The ink stain near the right hand pocket is my fault tho... my husband left a pen in his shirt pocket and I didn't get it out before doing the laundry...
They are, however, VERY comfortable and great for doing things in when you don't mind if you get a little dirty.
This little sweater/cover up thingie is a size 4X mesh cropped top. It's got a name, I've just forgotten what it is. It's from Torrid, and really doesn't do much of anything - it's not good for keeping warmer, unless it's just a touch breezy, but it does LOOK cute. Forgive the model here, but I couldn't figure out any other way to show you what it looked like.
This is a size 22 skirt, black and psuedo-lacy panels in it. I got it with a gift card birthday present last year and have probably
worn it about 8 times since then. Like the pants, it should be ironed (but won't be, because I hate ironing.) I bought it specifically to go with the above cropped sweater, and the two do look quite charming together.This skirt is a 26, a very professional-looking plaid in dark red, tan and brown. It's lined on the inside for comfort, and it's wool, so it's nice and warm. I bought it a
nd a matching sweater to wear for a Christmas party, then the sweater's sleeves fell off the first time I tried to wear it (long story) and I never could find a replacement for the sweater. Nothing else I own goes well with it, so I never wore it at all.There's also a blue jean skirt, size 24, that I don't have a picture of either (there's something wrong with my camera, and it's not saving all the images...) that's very nice, also Mossimo, comes to about the bottom of the knee, and hasn't been worn much, maybe 10 times altogether, since I got it.
If you're interested in participating in the Karmic Challenge and you have clothing of your own that you'd like to find a new home for, make a post on your own blog and let me know. I'll link to you here to direct readers to sizes that might fit them better!
I Can Haz No Chezburgr, KTHXbai!
see more crazy cat pics
So yesterday was a good weigh in...
I'm down another .8 pounds, which means... I made my 10% initial goal. It was also our 16th week at Weight Watchers, so we got a little key chain charm made from brass. Since I also made my 10%, I get a key chain, which is made from copper. (Isn't there a fashion no-no about mixing metals? These two things do NOT match well together. Ah well...)
My measurements, which I do from time to time randomly - I just only write them down once a month - have crossed another invisible line... my waist is now less than 40". On the other hand, I was measuring Darcy (she asked) and her waist is like 14". I'm not sure about that, she kept squirming. But I seem to remember Scarlet O'Hara having a 16" waist. SCARY.
Thomas and I were decluttering the master bedroom closet this weekend, and I happened across my pair of 16 jeans that I bought shortly after Darcy was born (when I was at my decade-low of 180). I didn't try them on, you have to understand they were shoved down between our blanket chest and the wall, and were covered in cat hair and dead bug bits and black glitter from our Halloween tree. But they're in the laundry now, and I shall try them on this week. I'll keep you posted.
Thomas lost 1.8, which earned him another 5-pound gold star, and he's got 4 pounds to go, to get to his 10%. Pretty good, I think.
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