the one where kristen turns 30...

It's times like this I wish I had photoshop--because I would SO cut and paste my pic in here...

Rachel: Okay! Y’know what? I realized it was stupid to get upset about not having a husband and kids. All I really needed was a plan. See I wanna have three kids…
Phoebe: Oh let me guess, and you wanna have them all at the same time and you wanna have them for your brother.
Rachel: As I was saying… I should probably have the first of the three kids by the time I’m 35 which gives me five years. I love this plan! I wanna marry this plan!
Phoebe: If you could do that, I’d marry the hippity-hop.
Rachel: So, if I wanna have my kid when I’m 35, I don’t have to get pregnant until I’m 34. Which gives Prada four years to start making maternity clothes! Oh wait, but I do want to be married for a year before I get pregnant…
Monica: Really! That long?! (Chandler slowly turns and looks at her.) (To Chandler) Look all you want, it’s happening!
Rachel: No, so I don’t have to get married until I’m 33! That’s three years, that’s three whole years—Oh, wait a minute though. I’ll need a year and a half to plan the wedding, and I’d like to know the guy for a year, year and a half before we get engaged… Which means I need to meet the guy by the time I’m thirty.
Ross: Which is fine! Because you just turned—(Removes two candles from the cake)—twenty-eight!
Rachel: No! Ross, no! It is not fine! Eh-eh-according to my plan I should already be with the guy I wanna marry!

There's no way to say this and not sound completely pathetic, so I'm just gonna say it.
Yeah...it took me turning thirty to be able to FULLY appreciate Rachel and her frustration/desperation here.
Only I wanted to be married-almost done having kids-maybe one or two more-by the time I was thirty. Yeah THAT'S not happening. Usually I'm ok with it--until times like this weekend and I REALLY think about it. THEN I hear an incessant "TICK TICK TICK" in the back of my brain and I realize my time is running out. Then panic mode sets in because I realize this one is COMPLETELY OUT OF MY HANDS.
Normally if I want something I just go out and get it. But this situation doesn't work that way. And it SUCKS. Plus it doesn't help any when my happily married with children friends get all smug and say crap like "don't worry, you'll get your turn." Yeah. That's REAL easy for you to say. You're already livin' the dream. Or the person who was married at 19 and a parent at 20 is trying to "relate" because they remember wondering and stressing if it was ever going to happen for them too. Gah! Word of wisdom my friends: If you've already got what the person wants or you yourself have not been down a damn near identical road don't say crap like that. EVER. All you'll get is a smack in the face.

After all this stressing marriage and motherhood better be all it's cracked up to be otherwise I'm gonna be PISSED.
Funny how life doesn't EVER work out the way you planned. Being single is HARD.
Ok, I've vented. I'm better now...kinda.

talk to me

Currently (re)reading

I prefer to take my lunches solo. It's not because I'm anti-social. It's because I LOVE to use my lunches to read. Usually I am left alone to fall peacefully into whatever story I'm reading. Lately I have found that I can no longer be left alone to read in peace. I always choose to sit out of everyone's way, yet people will ask to join me and then proceed to start a conversation with me. I try to be polite, but am I obligated to be nice when they were the ones who so rudely interrupted me? I mean, it's OBVIOUS what I'm doing and that they are interrupting that, but why do I always feel like such a tool when I start dropping signals-one word answers, grunts, opening my book mid-sentence, etc.-that I just want to be left alone to read?

What is it that draws people to someone who obviously has no desire to socialize?

good thing i didn't get it tattooed on my ass...

Yesterday the internet was all abuzz. Apparently the world is off its axis and everyone has a new sign on the Zodiac.
 If this is true I am no longer a

Ha ha ha ha! Not any more you aren't!

  and am now a

Don't worry kid; I feel the same way...

Man I feel bad for the people who decided to immortalize it in ink. Good thing I'm not one of them.

At first I didn't think much of it; it's just some hacks at a Planetarium making this announcement. Then at dinner Mr. Wonderful brought up the subject, so we started reading about what our "new" signs said about us. I started to have a bit of an identity crisis. I have always been a Virgo to the core, but I was finding I have a lot of Leo traits in me as well. Not to mention Mr. Wonderful and I are no longer compatible signs! GASP! The world is coming to an end!

Now I have never been all Professor Trelawney about this sort of thing (although the actual science behind it is quite interesting), but by this point I started to feel a little lost. I thought I knew who I was but now I had some moron at the Plane-arium (bonus points to those who know the reference) telling me I have been living a lie. It's been a difficult pill to swallow.

Although Mr. Wonderful said I have a lot of Leo in me, I nearly floored him when I read Virgo to him. We have agreed although I have Leo traits in me, there is no mistaking I am Virgo through and through.  

Then today the silver lining. I read that astrology experts aren't jumping on this bandwagon just yet. WAHOO! Maybe since I'm RIGHT on the cusp (the day after my birthday is when Virgo starts) I'll just say I'm a Lirgo and leave it at that.

Identity crisis solved. For now.

Here's where I'm getting my information:

Leo Profile

Virgo Profile

It hasn't changed? Honest?

my new nemesis

Warning-this is yet another long, rambling post. Sorry.

I’m convinced there is a conspiracy between the holiday food people and the gym people and that the conversation went something like this:

HFP: “hey gym people, we have a GREAT idea!”

GP: “ok, Holiday Food People, what’s that?”

HPF: “so the holidays are a big deal for a lot of people. We’re going to do all of this great fatty food that people will gorge on because we’ll only make it available once a year, all the while telling them ‘you deserve it, it’s the holidays. Your mom only makes that sweet potato pie once a year. You can’t pass THAT up! Don’t take just once slice; here have two!’ Then once New Year’s rolls around they’ll feel so bad about themselves they’ll join your gym in a vain attempt to get healthy again!”

GP: “Holy crap that’s brilliant! The fatties will buy gym memberships the first of the year and resolve to get skinny but will tire towards the end of January, stop coming, and we reap all the benefits of a signed contract! Hooray!”

HFP: “They’ll never know what hit them. It’s brilliant, BRILLIANT I tell you!”

GP/HFP: *maniacal laughs*

Ok. I know that’s not how it goes down. But it feels like it-especially yesterday when I stepped on my bathroom scale to do the dreaded post-holiday weight assessment. Although I have never had a super model’s physique I still think I hit the genetic jackpot because I have a somewhat slender figure with little to no work on my part-despite the English and Dutch blood running through my veins. That was until I stepped on that bloody scale yesterday.

I waited anxiously while my scale calculated the damage I had (or hadn’t) caused over the last six weeks. A few seconds later the blue display blinked with the results. 162.7. WTF?!  I had to put my glasses on and weigh myself twice to be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I have managed to hold steady at or around (usually below)157 with little to no work on my part for the last few years. Not a great number, but impressive considering I have been in food service for the majority of the last decade.  

In my defense I did manage to lose 10 pounds this summer-due to tap dancing in 100+ degree temps during ‘Bye Bye Birdie’. Thanks to the over-zealous brokers, chefs, and DSRs at work bringing us yummy treats, my inability to say ‘no’, and my hating to see good food go to waste I have gained all ten pounds back plus the 5.7 holiday pounds.  For you non-math whiz’s like me that’s 15.7 pounds in five months. NOT. GOOD.

That being said, here’s my dilemma. In the last ten years I have been a member of four gyms. FOUR. Gyms that I am great at going to at first but then I get discouraged, hate going alone, and slack off. They then turn into a waste of money. Thinking it was a better option for me I have purchased a few at home videos and equipment, but after the set-up required it’s just too easy to rationalize NOT doing it. Although I am ready to make the change (and have been since before my latest revelation), I can’t find the motivation-usually blaming my inability to run or do anything strenuous on my joints since I am the proud owner of two bad knees and a bad ankle a skating accident five years ago bestowed me with.

Mr. Wonderful (being the fitness success story he is 60 lbs and maintaining!) has offered his help, but he’s a gym Nazi and I don’t know if I’m ok with him yelling at me to suck it up and stop being an out-of-shape whiny baby. I AM an out of shape whiny baby who needs a drill sergeant, but I need to start slow so I don’t get frustrated and give up because I can’t KEEP up-AGAIN-giving the gyms more free money. That isn’t the most fiscally savvy strategy since I am a single income household.

I know I have a few success stories who read my blog-paging Riss and Most Happy Girl-What has worked for you? How do you make inconvenient times convenient? I have the time, but the time I do have is intermittent. I don’t want to have to shower, apply or wash makeup off my face, or change my clothes more than once a day. I don’t want to have to come back to work or go on a date with Mr. Wonderful sweaty and gross. I also don’t want to be at the gym two hours a day like Mr. Wonderful. I’m not looking for Biggest Loser loss, I just want to stop feeling like a blob and for my clothes to fit right again. I want to impress people with the fact I have free food thrown at me all day at work yet I still look AWESOME. I want to keep up with Mr. Wonderful. I'm not necessarily ok with the fact he's becoming the pretty one in this relationship.

I’m not worried about the diet-with the exception of recently I’m usually pretty good with my eating habits. It’s the exercise and fitting it into my erratic schedule that’s killing me.

Have you ever let yourself go? How did you come back? What strategy do you recommend for someone who wants to change but gets discouraged easily?