This thing is harder than it looks

Friday afternoon. No, that's not the name of a NaNo attempt at pornographic writing, nor is it a reference to anyone's anatomy. It's just that it's very odd to be eating in a way that's contrary to what I've had drummed into my head since I started my first diet at the age of 12. I can eat as much as I want of everything except processed carbs and some fats? Here's part of the conversation I had with myself last night, before dinner: "Wait a mean I can have a steak, grilled veggies, and grilled shrimp on the side, along with a Caesar salad with dressing, and I'm still on plan?" That was followed shortly by my imitation of the Snoopy happy dance. I have to say today, though, that I'm getting a little sick of meat and veggies and I'd nearly sell my soul for a piece of bread, some rice, or a baked potato. I know it's just the second day, and I'm not a terribly patient person, so I'm definitely not panicking or anything of that sort. (OK, so I had a minor freak out this morning on the way to work when I realized that I felt like a big ball of meat and grease.) Funny thing is, I'm not finding myself eating a ton of added fat even though I can. I'm actually supposed to eat the good fats every day and I'm getting that in through the salad dressing last night and oil that I topped my salad with for lunch, but I don't have an overwhelming desire to much through an entire field of peanuts or a grove of avocados or anything of the sort. Perhaps my long held theory that deprivation and being told exactly how much I could eat of everything really is at the root of why I binge eat? It will definitely be interesting to see my results. I'm giving it a month, just to see how I like it once I've adjusted, and see how my body reacts, so I'll keep you posted.

My friend, Tracy, is coming down tomorrow morning and we're going to Orange County (not to be confused with LA, which is entirely different) for a Matchbox 20 concert tomorrow night and a Mighty Ducks game Sunday night. One of the very coolest things about Tracy is how supportive she always is, no matter how wacky the ideas I float past her. Nothing ever fazes her and she'd be a fantastic mom if she weren't totally opposed to the idea. Anyway, she's already doing South Beach, so I've got a built in support system which is always nice for a road trip. She's even offered to do (some part of) my eight mile training session Sunday morning in Santa Monica (which is in LA), which I really think is above and beyond the call of duty. She's a super duper friend and I'm lucky to have her. (No, she doesn't read this site, so I'm not sucking up!)

What can I say about my NaNo efforts? I'm still stalled and I won't get anything done over the weekend because Tracy's here, so we're just going to kick it back off on Monday and see what happens. I know I'm just letting myself get hung up on how crappy it is and how I've written so many plots into the cursed thing that I'm never going to be able to keep track of all of them, much less tie them up. I let Chris read it (he's the only one) and he says that it seems very autobiographical (so much so that he got really angry at the Introduction...seriously, I had to reassure him several times that it wasn't me talking so much as the character, who just happens to be similar to me in a lot of ways) and that the lack of dialogue seemed in keeping with the narrative style. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not, but I'm going with it. I wonder how my NaNo buddy is doing? I'm sending positive energy (and an encouraging email) your way because I know you're swamped with school and dealing with all of the work stuff, and I know that your novel is going to be fabulous.

Oh yes, before I go, a mini rant about my car. It's still not finished. They didn't even "realize" that the stereo needed to be replaced until yesterday, and the stereo place can't come out until Monday. Now I've had to cancel the rental car I was going to rent for the road trip and I'm going to have to take the current rental (on it's 10th day with me) to the car wash because it was filthy inside when I rented it and it's not improved any since. Even the seats are stained, which I can't do much about, much to my chagrin. I really thought no one would ever see the inside except me, so I didn't worry about it. I'm worried now. Grrr. Maybe the car wash can shampoo the seats tonight? Would everything still be damp tomorrow morning, though? I don't want Tracy to get a wet butt on the way to Anaheim. Decisions, decisions.

Weeks until LA Marathon: 18
Weeks until Christmas: 7
Exercise since forever ago: None. Zip. Nada. And I'm not obsessing on it, either!


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