Take An Alberta Break

Hello!

For the past week, I've been visiting my family in beautiful Alberta - the land of pickup trucks and blue federal election signs. My parents live in Edmonton, so we've been here for the most part, with exception of a little trip to Calgary and one to Jasper. Today is the last full day before we board a plane back to stinky Toronto. And so, since time is tight, I'll update a bit later on my return.

Happy Holidays!

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Hosed!

My experiences with tights and pantyhose have never been great. Some of my earlier memories are of my mom trying to get my cable-knits up my chubby child legs as I squirmed with every awful pinch of her nails. Even then, I chose fashion over comfort. Or I guess my mom chose it for me as I probably would have wanted to go to school in my bathing suit and Wonder Woman bracelets, but you get the idea.

Today, the problem with hosiery is still all about getting them - and keeping them - up. I buy the correct size of pantyhose every time (at least according to the charts on the back of the package), and yet, without fail, it seems as though they were made for someone a foot shorter than me. It's an unsexy battle to get the hosiery's crotch up to its parking spot and one that I have to fight each time I go to the washroom.

What's worse though, is when the shimmy or the roll-down happens. You'll be sitting or standing there, and suddenly the waist part will just give up and start rolling down to your hips like Frank's Slide. It's a bad, bad feeling - especially when you're in public as I was this evening at our staff's holiday dinner party.

What makes the Roll-Down particularly special is when you're sitting and your skirt's waist line is still where it should be and your panty-hose roll has rested just above your lap - creating a magnificently accented gut. Very nice.

And then, when you stand-up - you can only pray that the hose roll stays where it is (precariously at your hips) and doesn't decide to just keep on' truckin' southbound. If this happens, your range of motion gets stunted and you have to get yourself over to a bathroom pronto - all the while looking like one of those hilarious bastards in March Of The Penguins.

I'm sure it doesn't help that I buy the world's cheapest pantyhose ever - never with the control-top or control-thighs or control-the-universe features. Perhaps I should look into that.

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Here Comes Santa Claus ...

... and that would be me and I don't mean in the jolly, generous way. More in the round, bloated way. Just in time to see my family again, I am pushing maximum density. YARRRG.

I'm at the point where I am just so, so uncomfortable with myself. I feel gross and dumpy and just 'not right'. And it is just such a lovely cherry on top of it all to be in this state of blob for a long-awaited family visit. I am a dolt.

My family is great. Wonderful. But we can't help but make little comments when someone has gained or lost weight. And we're not very good at being subtle when we check each other out to determine whether said weight has been lost or gained. Eyes always seem to settle on that new double-chin or the makings of a gut. No one means any harm - it's just the way we are. And this is what I keep thinking about as Friday approaches (my flight home is that night). Oh, Anxiety, you come around at the greatest times.

The new job (can I still call it 'new'?) has caused me to take on different habits that are really loaning themselves to this situation. I have:
* Been working late
* Getting up and going to work earlier than before
* Mindlessly eating my lunches at my desk due to the busyiness
* Enjoying the free Diet Cokes that are provided rather than drinking water

While I have joined a gym and have been going to it faithfully, I'm realizing that my eating has turned to crap. I haven't cooked a real meal from scratch since I don't know when. It's either frozen or pre-made or ordered in or out a box. Despite many of these things being 'calorie wise' they're still all loaded with crap that no doubt keeps my body in a state of storage. On top of that, I'm eating way later than I normally do in the evenings and skipping breakfasts.

All of this has mounted into my being where I am now: paunchy and borderline miserable.

Sigh. I know what I need to do. I just wish I had been doing it sooner.

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The Gift That Keeps On Getting More Expensive

I have trouble with gifts. I have no shortage of ideas for people, but have massive trouble sticking to spending limits. I don't know if this is because my tastes are expensive or if the dollar just doesn't stretch as far as I hope it would - but I always get more than I initially plan or promise.

It goes a little like this:
1. I buy gifts for my mom and spend $XXX - maybe just a touch more than I planned on, but 'tis the season, ho ho ho, etc, etc.
2. I bring what I bought home, make a little nest of tissue paper from the bags and nestle all the items for mom into one cute pile on the couch.
3. I step back, look at it and frown. "This pile doesn't LOOK like $XXX worth of stuff. In fact, it doesn't look like much at all!" I bellow.
4. I figure I can afford to get a little more - maybe just enough that I can get her something else to unwrap.
5. I spend $YY, bring it back, place that gift on its own tissue paper nest on the couch.
6. I then look over and the nest I made for my dad nearby catches my eye. I frown and worry, "Now mom's gifts are obviously more than dad's gifts - I need to even that up bit. I'll just need to spend $YY on dad, and it should be pretty equal."
7. I go to the store, spend $YY on dad - a bit more than I planned but it's all about Baby Jesus, claymation specials, etc. etc. - so I excuse it.
8. I bring what I bought home and readjust dad's nest to include the new things I've picked up.
9. I step back, look at it and frown. "This pile doesn't LOOK like $XXX + $YY worth of stuff. In fact, it doesn't look like much at all!" I bellow.

Repeat over and over again, cycling the names of my loved ones in that mix. I can see myself still in that horrible loop of spending right up until I'm pacing through the same three stores in the airport and am somehow convincing myself that adding maple syrup candies and a plush moose wearing a Toronto t-shirt would be a welcome top-up to Patrick's stocking.

Good lord.

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