food IS medicine, you fuckers!

Lately I've been living off potatoes and cheese.

It is terrible, and no good. I'm officially done with shitty eating. I'm determined to turn my life around. I can't be unhappy anymore. Yoga and puppies and art make me happy. This is what I will concentrate on. And good clean food.

Big C's mom called this past Sunday to let us know that she was really unhappy with our wedding invitations. This call took place 2 weeks after they had been mailed out to the guests. Way to upset the bride, bitch, way to go.

The problem she had with it was that her name is on the same line as her ex-husband, as the parents of Big C. Apparently their names being on the same line makes it seem like they are still together? I don't know. They've been divorced for 25 years. She's been remarried for 20 years. Everyone in Big C's family knows this. My family knows this. All our friends know this. I don't know who the fuck would think that they're a couple. If she can't differentiate between being the mother and father of the groom and being a couple, then that's her problem, not mine. She is totally entitled to her opinion, but that doesn't mean she has to be mean about it. I agonized over invitations. I researched for weeks on proper wording for divorced parents of the groom. The major consensus was to put the parents on the same line with their different names. Yes, we didn't include Big C's stepdad, but we had talked about it. We could have made it work if Big C had wanted his name on there, but he didn't because he doesn't consider his step-dad a father figure, but sees him as his mom's husband.

IT'S COMPLICATED! FUCK!

Anyways, I was really upset and bawled my eyes out because what she did was phone and basically hurt my feelings and baffle Big C. It was totally unproductive and usless and hurtful. If it had really meant something to her she should have said something earlier. You DON'T call 2 weeks after they've been mailed out to berate the bride and groom for their choice!

THERAPY! GO GET IT!

Anyways, I'm really tired right now. I've had a glass of wine with my potatoes and cheese (becuase I'm SO healthy..... :(  but seriously, I'm starting now. Watch me be the most annoying documenting healthy eater EVER) and I'm in bed and everything (even though I'm fully dressed) but I've got to put some socks on and head to the bar to play darts. Heck yes! Coffee and water!

Holy cats, what a weekend

So I have no idea what happened on Saturday. My brain can't reach that far back.

But Sunday was ridiculously indulgent.

I'm supposed to be living this grain/processed sugar free diet, which for the most part, I am. But something happened on Sunday that broke me down. And that something was:


You bet. I gave in. I had double doubles, 2 bagels, and a large turkey bacon sandwich. And let me tell you that the turkey in the turkey bacon sandwich was NOT actual turkey.

Part of the problem was, when I went into Winnipeg, I left early because the stores advertised that they were open at 9:30. But when I got there, pretty much everything was closed until 11. So I had all this time on my hands. And I REALLY like their coffee. And it just so happened that the Tims I was at had blueberry bagels, which are my FAVORITE. After that I went to Costco and walked around the warehouse, looked around and stretched my legs.

Finally, when everything opened, I went to Ricki's first. They were on the last day of their sale, and I had 3 gift cards to use. After picking out half the things in the store, I spotted the awesomest clutch ever. It was made of silver, almost chain-mail-esque material and I felt like it would be a perfect bridesmaid gift. And it was ON SALE!

The problem was, however, that there were only 2. And I needed 5. So the extremely nice salesgirl made a round of calls to the other Ricki's stores in the city. Surely some would have them too, right?

Well, only one other store, in the St Vital mall had 2. In the entire city, with like 6 Ricki's in it, there were only 4 of these purses. Gaahhhh.

Well, I thought to myself, no worries. I'll pick up the 2, so I have 4, and then just think of something different for my maid of honour, who happens to be my little sister.

And then the salesgirl comes to the dressing room (because I'm trying on half the store while this is happening) and says, "Do you want me to try our store in Brandon?'

What a sweetheart. 'SURE', said I. 'WHY NOT'.

Fuck, but Brandon is at least 2 hours away from Winnipeg! I and just drove and hour and a half to get to Winnipeg! And sure enough, Brandon has some. So one got put on hold for me.

So once I bought all my new clothes (and the 2 clutches) I hightailed it to St Vital and picked up the other 2 purses.

Then I got in my car and, with a pit stop at Tim hortons for a bathroom break, coffee and another bagel, I was on my way to Brandon.

Once in Brandon, I went straight to the mall and picked up the clutch. Relief flooded me. I felt complete and stable once more. Not really. I felt like a foolish wreck. Not only had I just spent like 5 hours in the car, I had eaten nothing but coffee and processed wheat. And for what? 5 clutches, that's what.

So, with another stop at Tim Hortons (there is literally one on every block, EVERYWHERE!), where I grabbed a bottle of water, a double double and a large sandwich, I drove home.

AND THEN. When I finally made it back to the village where I live (from now on to be known as TVWIL) I decided to stop by the curling rink just in case Big C was still there. Sure enough, he was. He was also drunker than a skunk (Bonspiels do that to him). So I hung around and talked with him and 2 other men for a couple of hours, just basically hanging back, having a few drinks and shooting the shit. It was nice, but I was exhausted and just wanted to put my long johns on and lay down.

When we finally got home. I couldn't sleep.

Bah.

So the moral of my story? Give your bridesmaids a pair of earring. It's less stress that way. And AVOID TIM HORTONS!!!

Crazy People. Is it just me, or has everyone gone stupid?

So.

Last time I came on here, it was to rant about how unhappy I am about this wedding planning show.

It hasn't changed, although I have lost some weight, thanks to The Primal Blueprint 21 Day Transformation. 5 pounds so far, to be exact. And it's only week one! That alone makes me happy. My dress WILL fit!

Next stop is menswear. After looking around the Moores' site I'd like something like this:






   


Except without the handkerchief. Doesn't need a boutonniere AND a handkerchief.  I'm thinking a navy tie and white vest for the groomsmen, and a white vest/white tie for Big C.

Or maybe something like this:





Like still grey, but a shade darker. Platinum, I think they called it. I think with a dark tie (navy) it will look fine. If they don't have navy, then I'll just get them all to wear silver vest/tie and Big C can have a white one. Actually mulberry looks kinda nice, with the grey. Except these are manly men. Don't know how they feel about mulberry and grey...

I could use a hug.

Ugh. Weddings.

Specifically wedding planning.

Ugh.

You know, when we first got engaged, I was so completely over the moon, there was really no way I was getting off cloud 9. Every waking moment was spent thinking and planning this special get-together and every night was spent dreaming about them. So excited, was I.

Now I can't wait to have this goddamn motherfucking piece of crap day over with. The whole thing is ruined.

Oh. That's a big much.

I didn't want a big day. I wanted a small day. Me, my fiance (we'll call him Big C), our parents and siblings. Just exchanging vows, signing the papers, wearing a ring to symbolize our union and then maybe supper and drinks to celebrate.

Nope. Noooope. That's not what I get. I now have a full-blown hootenanny on my hands.

I get panic attacks, passive-aggressive sisters, overly dramatic mothers, and indifferent in-laws. Too many cooks have spoiled this broth. It's supposed to be a day of love. A day for Big C and I. Now it's a shitshow of 275 people, some of whom I wouldn't know from a hole in the ground (but they HAVE to come because they're neighbors and her husband just died!) and more money being thrown away which I can't think about otherwise I get heart palpitations.

Heart palpitations and gavistcon. My new best friends...

Seriously. How did this get so big? Why did I not speak up a hell of a lot sooner than this?! It's way too fucking late now. We're getting married in 4 1/2 months. The save the dates went out. The invitations are almost ordered. Big C has his list of things to do and I'm trying like fuck to raise some money to pay for the decorations. (4 fucking grand for decor! WTF! Because I wanted the hall to look less hall-ish ooh la la!)

It's all about impressing people. About making a splash. Keeping up with the Jones. Which is ironic because where I come from the Jones' are poor.

I'm so tired. And I'm so stressed. And I'm so done with being tired and stressed. I just want to be at peace. Why can't I be at peace!?!?

Sure. I like my dress. I feel quite beautiful in it. But then I worry that it's too sparkly. Too show off-y, if you will. Like that actually matters. IT'S MY FUCKING WEDDING! Holy shit.  Plus the fact that I'm getting so fat I can hardly fit my dress anymore... Fatty McFuck is my name.

Some women are born bridezillas and some women are forced into that role by terrible people who pass judgement too quickly.

For instance. I don't want flowers. It's not my thing. I will probably carry a small bouquet down the aisle, but my bridesmaids are carrying a little lantern (maybe decorated with greenery). My sister, who is my MOH, and my mom, who are supposed to be the most supportive women in my life have nothing good to say. They want flowers. If I don't have flowers, then I'm a stupid person with bad taste. But no pressure...

Another instance. I could not find an invitation that I loved. I was not willing to settle, because I didn't want to shell out near to 800 bucks on paper that I thought 'would do'. I'm sorry that I care, ok? So I'm fussy with my money, sue me. I had my heart set on a picture invitation, but couldn't find one that worked with the invitation wording and it was sincerely driving me up the wall, like I was going MAD.

I had a few picked out that Big C agreed on, and one in particular was nice. Not awesome, or beautiful, but it would do. My sister and mom liked it, because it was traditional (they're very matchy matchy people) and wanted me to go with that. I wouldn't order it because I just felt like I wasn't done looking. There had to be something out there that I was more excited to spend my money on. And then I get accused by them of being too picky and if I don't have a traditional invitation mom will get made fun of by other women in town. You know what? Fuck you and your idea of picky you irrational bitches.

Too harsh? Too harsh...

So tonight, Big C and I decided to go to mixbook.com and have a look around. We started one from scratch together, in the colours that we like, and I added a picture on the back. It's simple, it's what we want, and it's cheap. Bam. And my sister and mom can just not say anything at all if they don't like it.  They'll probably say something, but by then it will all be ordered and if they want to be useful they can lick stamps.

Fuck, I could use a hug.

Ok. Foods to avoid and GOALS

Food (Products) Caleigh CANNOT EAT

White or Brown Rice

Potatoes and potato products

White, processed sugar

Carbonated soda

Dairy - milk, cheese, yogurt, butter, etc

treated cold cuts- bologna, ham, salami, hot dogs, etc

bacon (because once I start eating it I CANNOT STOP)

wheat flour

corn

peanuts, candied nuts or flavored nuts

processed, hydrogenated trans fats






GOALS

........

I guess my "goal" so far is to lose weight. Which isn't much of a goal at all. .... Ok, so here's what I want to work toward:

1. Working through my whole yoga routine and adding the sun salutation Done Properly.
2. Walk for an hour every day
3. Fit my size 10 pants 

...... I don't know if I should make 'eating primally' a goal. It's supposed to just BE, but maybe I should make it one for a certain amount of time. Like, eat primally 24/7 for 4 weeks or something like that. Except I want it to be long term. But sometimes it's nice to have a goal. A long term goal. But how long?

Right now my day planner will only go up to March. The last Monday in March is the 25th, which is 15 weeks from today. So....let's make that a goal.

Goal #4.  To be 100% primal for 15 weeks.

Ok, let's fricken DO this.


  

Exercise. A word.

Actually, several words.

One... I hate cardio.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I like to go for walks on a nice day, and do jumping jacks once in a while when I'm wearing a particularly strong bra, but as exercise? Nope. Noooope.

You will not find me in a jazzercise class, or jumping around on a raised platform (do you KNOW how dangerous those things are? People could die.) I tried the aerobics thing when I was in high school. I really did. Everyday for months I would jump around in my living room listening to those peppy instructors on my VHS saying things like 'If you don't have any energy, please, Take Some Of Ours! YAY!'

Noooope. I would have to stop the tape, and laugh. Because I'm sorry, that is just not happening.

You will not find me jogging. I do NOT jog. You know what jogging does? It makes my legs BIGGER. I'm serious, I do not lose weight jogging, I gain. I gain massive thunder legs that would make a Greek god proud. Not me. No thank you.

In University, I joined the gym, but my drinking and studying and just generally eating way to much and hanging out with friends living life, got in the way of being physically fit. The bikes made my butt hurt. The stair master made my knees ache, and the elliptical machine? Don't get me started on the elliptical machine. If I wanted to cross country ski I would be outside cross country skiing.

I even tried aerobics classes. But I found myself staring at the barr mirror wondering who the big bear of a girl in last year's workout gear was only to realize it was me and I seriously needed to get out of that room.

Why would I put myself through all that? Why would anyone?

Sure, if you enjoy it, by all means, Just Do It can be your slogan. But if you hate it? How the heck are you going to be able to get your ass in gear if you dread the very seconds ticking on the clock that leads to your hated workout?

Inner Voice

Yesterday I attempted to make brownies, the non-primal kind. I don't know what possessed me to think that this would be a great idea. I guess I just had this insane wish for sweet chocolate and nothing, but nothing, was gonna stand in my way. I'm not sure what to do about that kind of craving. If something could knock me out before I do something stupid like that, I'd lose weight AND get sleep at the same time.

 Except I ran out of margarine. So I had the chocolate paste ready, but no way to grease the pan. So I left it in the fridge.

But then bad things happened. I grabbed a spoon. Oh yes I did.

Then I dipped that spoon into the paste (others would call it 'batter' but by then the whole thing resembled oreo cookie icing) AND PROCEEDED TO LICK THE SPOON. Then I did it again. And again. And again and again and again and again. Etc.

Today I got sick of it. Not sick from it, mind you, but just tired of the overly sugary weird texture of chocolate paste. So I threw the rest of it in the garbage and tossed the bowl and spoon in the sink but not before my waist literally expanded an inch.

Damn me and my bad ideas.

So, to ensure this doesn't happen again, I also threw out the remaining wheat flour that was in my pantry as well as the remaining granulated white sugar. I do have the rest of the sugar that's in my tin, for when people come over they like it in their coffee, etc. but for me I will stick with natural sweeteners like dates and honey.

Anyways, my inner voice was not in top form today. All that consciously ran through my head were the following:

• Do people not understand how awesome doing yoga in long underwear feels?

• Finally, after a year of sitting at home, things have started to get boring

• All these fun winter activities to do, and all I want is to hibernate.

• I ate so much chocolate goo, it literally squirted out my bum

•  Tassimo is a poor man's cappuccino maker (later I realized what I really meant was espresso maker, but you should be picking up what I'm putting down)
• If I was living my dream life, I'd be surrounded by books and beautiful things

• Yeah, you know what? I don't care

• There are no words to describe how much I love my long johns

• Why do I have to resemble Miss Piggy SO MUCH?!

• Like kindergarteners, I, too, need a designated nap time. 

  There you have it. My day in ten bullet points.