Friday, August 3, 2012

Dumb Detox, Day 1

Throughout my first day (yesterday) of this dumb detox/cleanse thing, I sent my sister (who is my dumb detox team mate) a series of text messages:


Day 1: So far, so good.  Altho, I need sweetener for my oatmeal.  Cinnamon is about as sweet as my shoe.  Do you recommend Stevia or brown rice syrup...or something else?

Now that you mention it, I remember the one time I tried Stevia I wanted to scratch the top layer of my tongue off to remove that nasty flavor. Can one purchase Truvia at a grocery store?

So, the rice crackers aren't the worst thing I've ever had in my mouth!  I was  pretty impressed.  They make hummus with tomato and avocado slices seem like a meal!  Trader Joe's garlic hummus is not the best.  Good thing I put olive oil* and balsamic vinegar in it.  I still ate almost the entire container and I have 735 calories** left for dinner and a shake.  So far I'm rockin' day 1!

The pasta and beans wasn't half bad!  Of course, it could have used a little wine (as could have my mouth) and I wanted to pour cheese on top of it so badly it made my face hurt.  But I powered through like a champ!

Day 1 ended with dance class, so I was extra successful on accounta eating healthy and exercising in the same day.  1 down, 27 to go!


*Yes, olive oil is one of the acceptable fats
**I'm not required to count calories, I'm doing it partly out of habit and partly out of curiosity.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Detoxifying

I have decided to do one of those dumb detox/cleanse things with my sister.  Originally, I was going to opt for 10 days of hunger and crankiness, but then I remembered that I was very popular in June and July and along with the lovely memories, I packed on five big ones.  So, I decided to dive in and go for 28 days of hunger and crankiness.  (I know these dumb detox/cleanse things aren't designed for weight loss, but let's face it, nobody puts themselves through that kind of misery without losing weight.)

No refined sugar, no dairy, no red meat, no gluten, no alcohol.  I know what you're thinking:  what CAN you eat?  Well, I'll tell you.  Healthy stuff.  Again, I know what you're thinking:  what's healthy stuff?  Well, I'll tell you...good question.  Luckily this program comes with a list of acceptable foods.

I went to my local Trader Joe's - my health food store of choice.  There's a Whole Foods closer to my apartment, but I'm afraid of the people who shop at Whole Foods.  They can smell the cheese made from cow's milk, and not soy, on me from a mile away.  They look at me like I'm a human pesticide sprinkling my sin all over their organic Garden of Eden - and stood in the produce section, like a dummy, with the list.

The thing is, I eat fruits and vegetables on the regular.  But for some reason, probably because I'm limited to a list and have to follow a bunch of rules, I felt like I'd never bought food before.  I was like, what is this?  Frewit?  Oh, it's pronounced "froot"?  So the "I" is silent.  Tricky.  Vegetables, huh?  They're mostly water, right?  So, I'd probably need to eat, like, a bucket of them before I get full?  Do you sell them by the bucket?  How about by the barrel?

The no gluten part is the most fun.  Everything has to be made from rice.  Rice milk, rice pasta, rice bread, rice crackers, rice cakes (which, as we all know, are not actually cakes. That name is very deceiving).  So I'm trying to find all these rice products (and I look like I'm lost in a library - head up, mouth open, eyes wide, gazing like I have a purpose but, really, I don't know what the hell I'm doing and cursing the Dewey decimal system) when I come across circles of cardboard wrapped in plastic.  Oh, those are rice cakes?  You eat those?  You don't use them as a shim under a table that's standing on an uneven surface?  Interesting.  I am learning so much today! 

One hour and $111 later, I had all kinds of healthy crap that will hopefully last me more than a week.

28 days.  Wish me luck!  Be supportive, not honest.  Unless your honesty is supportive.  I hope you're ready to take this journey with me!

Monday, July 23, 2012

Chapter 23, or Name change process, part 2


 It's been a while since I threw a chapter from the book in here, so let's go back in time again...

            When my social security card arrived with my new slash old name, I handled it surprisingly well.  It helped that my roommate was there and fixed me up with a big glass of wine.  I took out a pad of paper and practiced writing my new slash old name about one hundred times before attempting to sign my new social security card.  When I started to get teary, she’d yell at me and gave me more wine.  We are nothing without our girlfriends.
            A couple days later I took my new social security card, my old driver’s license and my divorce decree with me to the DMV (See, you can do something old, something new, and something blue for divorces, too).  I decided to try the same trick I used with the Social Security office and get there a half hour before it closed.  My plan worked, I only had to wait about twenty minutes.  The lady told me I’d receive my new license in about a week. 
            When I got home I made a list of all the companies with whom I needed to change my name.  There were my utilities, Bank of America, Chase, and my passport.
I also needed to change my name with my car insurance, health insurance (and I needed to get my own health insurance), and because I got the house in the divorce, I needed to change my name on the homeowner’s insurance, the deed and the loan.  The only name changing I could do without my new license was with the utilities, credit card and bank accounts.  I ended up getting a new credit card and closing out the old one.  I always wanted a credit card that earned me Disney dollars and The Ex never let me get one, so that was the first thing I did.
            When I got my new license I was able to change my name and policy on my car insurance and I ended up getting health insurance later through my roommate.  The biggest pain in my ass was the house stuff.  I had to change my name on the deed before I could change it on the insurance or the loan.  To change the deed I had to go to the courthouse in San Bernardino on a certain day between certain hours.  The whole idea of the process gave me a headache.  And then one day I was explaining it all to my Attorney’s paralegal and she said, “Oh, do you want us to take care of that for you?”  Uh, yes please.
            After that was completed (two weeks later) I could submit a copy of the new deed, the divorce decree, the settlement agreement (saying the house is mine) and my social security card to my homeowners insurance so they could change my name and remove The Ex’s name.  After that was completed I could submit all the same paperwork plus the new homeowner’s insurance (and some money) to Bank of America to have them change my name on the loan. 
            The whole house stuff process took several months, actually, and there were times I wished I had made The Ex keep the house.  He sent me a few angry emails when he was impatient with the process.  As if I wasn’t impatient with the process?  I had been working on making the necessary changes for months.  Every week I was dealing with social security offices or DMVs or lawyers or insurance agents or loan agents or any other kinds of agents you can imagine.  Every week I was reminded that I was divorced.  Every week my life turned upside down.  Every week at some point, I cried.  And what was he doing?  He was fucking his girlfriend.  It must have been a really rough time for HIM.  I can’t imagine the pain HE must have gone through.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Nonline dating: where subtlety goes to die

The following is a text conversation I had this morning with a guy I met on Match.com:

Him:  How goes the ballroom dancing?

Me:  It goes well.  How goes the telling me whose number this is? :)

Him:  Drew (Yes, that's his real name.  Because fuck him.)

Me:  Ah, I suspected.  8am on a Sunday?  We need to work on your timing :)

Him:  Sorry.  Hungover?

Me:  Haha, nope.  It's just my last day to sleep in for five more days because of that dumb "real job".

Him:  What's that?  So no drinks and bad decisions soon?  Lol

Me:  It's super dumb is what it is!  It's totally ruining my life - except for the being able to pay rent and buy stuff part.  And haha, not so much!

Him:  Boo. :(

Me to myself:  Did he say boo because I said not so much in response to no drinks and bad decisions soon?  Surely he isn't propositioning sex in our first text messaging session - on a Sunday morning.

Me to him:  I think you're on the wrong site if that's what you're looking for.  Or maybe you're on the right site, you just picked the wrong girl.  Sorry.

No response.

Apparently, he was propositioning sex in our first text messaging session on a Sunday morning.  Impressive.  More impressive than his looks and height, that's for sure.  He's the kind of average that doesn't go with that kind of audacity.  And, come on, if you want me to surrender my vagina this early in the game, have some class and get me drunk first.  Jeez.

Ladies out there on Match.com, watch out for BacktoCA12.  He just wants to get laid.  Unless, of course, you also just want to get laid.  In which case, look up BacktoCA12.  Be sure to tell him I sent you and I'm expecting a finder's fee.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Practically poorfect in every way

Today I deposited my very last alimony check.

                                                   
My 3 ½ years of alimony are over.  Am I where I thought I’d be in 3 ½ years?  No.  But to be fair - did I have a plan of where I was going to be in 3 ½ years?  No.  I’ve had a lot of ideas.  I’ve had a lot of big dreams.  But, a plan?  Not so much.  (I’m pretty sure I need to get one of those.  Can you shop for those online?)
 
On this day, which I shall forever dub as The Day I Became Poor, I don’t have hateful and hurtful things to say to The Ex.  Surprisingly, I don’t have feelings of anger or sadness (well, maybe a little sadness about being poor) or victimization.  Instead, I feel thankful.  So, unlike the many other letters I have wanted to write to The Ex, here is a letter of gratitude:
 
Dear The Ex,

When you left, a part of me died.  But a new part came to life.  In a way, I owe a lot of who I am to you.  If you hadn't left, I might not have learned what I'm made of.  I am one tough ass broad.  And I'm resilient.  And capable.  And crazy and wonderful.  I'm like a human burrito - full of good things and bad.  And when you take a bite it's damn delicious.  Thank you for leaving me so I could discover that I'm delicious!

Peace out*,

Jen


*Yeah.  I said peace out.  That's the gangsta part of my burrito.  Or, the Napoleon Dynamite's brother part of my burrito.  Whatever.  Either way - take it.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Cliches in the membrane, cliches in the brain

I know I've ranted about my Real Job already, but I have a few new bones to pick with this system.  What is the deal with the 9-5er jargon?  On Fridays everybody says stuff like, "Happy Friday!" and, "We made it!"  On Mondays the response to, "How are you?" is always, "Not bad for a Monday."  Followed by a nod of agreement from the questioneer.  (What?  That's a word.)  And if anyone makes a mistake any day of the week it is necessary to say some variation of, "Is it Monday?"  And then laugh like a ding dong.

I'm surrounded by working drones and cheesy cliches and I'm becoming one of them!  I even call Thursday "Friday Eve"!  Just once, when someone says, "Happy Friday!"  I'd like to say, "Not for hookers.  They have a pretty serious work week ahead of them."  And I'd love to respond to, "How are you?" on Monday with, "Well, I'm hung over as shit and I'm pretty tender from being slammed like a screen door last night."

But, alas, I'm a lady (ish), and I just stick with the usual cliches.  One of these days, though.  One. of. these. days.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Someday is for bitches

I have this friend who is in a shit-or-get-off-the-pot situation with her boyfriend.  (No, this friend is not me.  If I had a boyfriend the whole damn world would have known about it long before there was a problem.  And if I had a boyfriend, you'd be reading a post called "Hell just froze over.") 

Anyway, he just can't seem to pull the trigger.  He says he wants to marry her and he wants to have kids...someday.  Someday?  I'm insulted and he's not even my damn boyfriend.  He's been saying "someday" for two years.  What about now?  When will someday be now?  It won't be.  You know why?  Because "someday" is just a polite way of saying "never".

Bleh, someday.  It's the twin brother of sometime.  As a single girl, I hear a lot of sometimes.  "I'll call you sometime."  "Let's do it again sometime."  Jeez, if you don't want to see me again just say, "It was nice to meet you," and be on  your way.  If you do want to see me again suggest now, tomorrow, next week.  Don't bother me with "sometime".

Guys, let me say this in words you'll understand.  You want to hang out again "sometime"?  Well, I want to give you a blowjob..."sometime".  On board with "now" yet?