Forever Part of Jackie's Army

For the past two months I've been getting cravings for McDonald's. I've never been a big MickyD's eater so it was really not big deal to stop eating it altogether almost five years ago. Since then I've had it once (because it was that or a 15euro eggs, toast, and bacon at Schiphol Airport at 8:00am). I've occasionally lamented the lack of their no-nutritional-value-probably-laced-with-cocaine fries but then I cut up a potato to make oven fries and I'm just as happy.

Plus, if I eat at McD's too often, Mac tells me I'll remain a fat chicken forever.

This most recent craving, however, kept coming back. About once a week I'd find myself saying "but you'll like the dinner I made for you once you eat it" and like a resigned child, my craving would huff off into a corner until it was ready for the next round. Last night, I finally caved.

That's pretty much how I ate the fries.

I walked to the Raunchy Ronnie's closest to my apartment and ordered a meal. I sat down to eat it, realizing that the burger was so dripping with fat/oil/teenagelinecooksnot/grease that my fingers almost became translucent. Ugh. But I had ordered it and, I have to admit, it tasted good going down. It wasn't the most satisfying meal but it shut up my craving so I'll take it.

Actually, I think my burger had even more grease.

About 20 minutes after I got home my stomach felt awful. I still pretty much felt like ass this morning. Thank you, Golden Armpits, for reminding me why I was never really that big of a fan in the first place. And now I have a blog post for the next time I have a craving and the passage of time leads me to think how bad could one meal there be?

NOTE TO SELF: DON'T EAT THE MCD'S OR YOU WILL FEEL LIKE THIS!

Note to readers: Guess who suddenly realised she can make

her own screen caps when she watches movies on her laptop?

Over on Healthy Tipping Point today, Caitlin asked another round of 10 personal questions. The last question was about your three happiest moments. One of my moments was when Ireland beat Romania in 1990. The funny thing is that I almost didn't include it as a memory because I didn't think a sporting memory from when I was 10 should really be one of my happiest moments. But you know what? It is.

I wrote about the game on its 20th anniversary but I know I've picked up a few new readers since then so while you can find the full post here, I'm reposting a shortened version of it on here. I will fully admit that just reading the post again made me cry.

Italia '90 is the first World Cup I really remember watching. I have vague memories of a World Cup party prior to that, but I couldn't tell you who was playing or what the score was. Italia '90 was so burned in my memory partly because I was 10 and finally able to actually follow sports and partly because it was Ireland's first time at the World Cup. As I have mentioned before, my dad is an Irish immigrant. As much as I love Canada, when it comes to soccer (and rugby), Ireland is my team. Italia '90 made sure of that.

...Ireland made it past the Round Robin stage. They were slated to play against Romania, at that time a dominant force in the soccer world (not so much now) and the general agreement was that 'the boys in green' had had a good run but it would be coming to an end.

My dad had invited a few friends around to watch and to follow it up with a BBQ.[...] It was a tense game, Romania attacking aggressively and Ireland building a defensive wall which rivaled the Berlin wall. Despite Romania's best efforts, not a single shot made it into the net and the teams were forced into extra time. [...] After extra time did nothing to change the result, a penalty shoot-out was inevitable.

Romania was up first. [...] The players would walk from the centre circle were they had to stay between kicks, place the ball where they wanted, and then score. [...] The score stood at 4-4 as Packie Bonner, Ireland's goalie, took his place on the goal line. He dropped his head and said a prayer (I know because he crossed himself when he was done) as Daniel Timofte strode up to the ball and got ready.

... Packie guessed right on that last ball and he stopped it. My dad let out a loud yelp of joy as he jumped out of his seat. I remember being on my knees, not fully believing what I was seeing. I was waiting for the referee to call back the penalty shot for some unknown reason, to give Daniel Timofte another crack at it. Thankfully, my imagined doom was just that, imagined.

As David O'Leary walked up the field towards the goal, I got to my feet never once taking my eyes off the screen. This was it. This was our moment. [...] He ran on the ball and kicked it straight into the back of the net. A cheer erupted from our living room, and in the moment of celebration, my dad took his full glass of red wine and threw it at our freshly-painted white wall. There was jumping, screaming, hugging, singing, dancing, yelling, laughing, and a couple of toasts. Ireland had done the impossible. They were going to the quarter-finals.

[...]

June 25, 1990 was the day I became a soccer fan. I had played soccer and I enjoyed soccer, but I had never loved soccer like I did that day and have since. I watched Ireland lose the next game to the host team, Italy. I watched in USA '94 as Ireland lost to Holland in the Round of 16 and as Roberto Baggio (Italy) placed a penalty kick so high above the cross bar I wondered if he needed glasses. I watched the final of France '98 while having lunch with my mom when France beat Brazil. Ireland had failed to qualify so I was cheering for the host country (this, of course, was prior to the Handball Henry debacle which will now ensure I hate France for the rest of my natural life). I watched Manchester United win the Treble on the world's tiniest TV while befriending the front door staff at a hostel in Paris. I watched Thun almost hold Arsenal to a tie in a pub in Thun. I hosted a pancake breakfast for the final game of Germany '06 and felt my jaw drop as Zinedine Zidane did the unthinkable to Marco Materazzi. All these memories in my life, all these important moments, tied into the beautiful game all because Ireland beat Romania in penalty kicks. What would have happened if they had lost?

[...]

I have come to believe that there will never be a sport moment in my life as sweet as Ireland's win over Romania. Soccer, hockey, rugby, there will be no game, no matter how important, that will stay with me the way that game did. Twenty years later, I watch a video about it and I tear up with pride at that moment. I talk about Italia '90 the way older Canadians talk about the '72 series. I reference that game like it was somehow pinnacle to the entire game of soccer and not just the island nation of Ireland. My children will know how important that game was, and likely my grandchild will too, because it really was that important.

Tru dat!

Sometimes you need a day off.

Tomorrow is my birthday.

It's also the day my parents come home from 2.5 months in Peru.

So I'm having a beer tonight because tomorrow I'll be too busy talking to my mom to actually drink any beer.

I also decided not to work out tonight because it got in the way of my beer drinking schedule.

Priorities. I've got them, they just might be a little skewed.

Another 365 Day Come to a Close

Christmas has come and gone and so to has my experiment with mentally over eating to prevent actual overeating. I made a concerted effort at this on the Sunday prior to Christmas when my mom and I made (Great) Grandma's Molasses Cookies. On the bus ride over to my mom's, I imagined eating 30 of these cookies. I picked each one up in my mind, felt the weight of it in my hand, took the correct number of bites and chewed. Around the twenty-first one I actually started to feel nauseous. I made it to 25 before I elected to stop because I just felt too sick. I'm all over trying the mental experiment, I'm not all over throwing up on a bus to complete it!

My imagination didn't do these delicious cookies justice!

I would like to say that the experiment was a success and in a way it was, but not for the reasons that I think the original experiment was successful. The original experiment had people eating less because they felt full of the item of food after imagining eating it. I ate fewer cookies that I did in previous years because this experiment was running through my head the whole day. Every time I thought about eating a cookie, I thought about my experiment results and opted not to. In the end, I had a grand total of three cookies over 8 hours. That's why I'm calling it successful even if not in the way it was intended.

Christmas Dinner ends with Lemon Meringue Pie. I love traditions!

I did fairly well over Christmas in general when it came to food. I did enjoy a few sweets but they were generally few and far between. After a relaxing Christmas Eve/Christmas Day with my Big Bro at our mom and stepdad's (and a visit to my dad's), I headed up to Nanaimo on Boxing Day for some time with my stepmom and Baby Bro. The rain in Nanaimo kept us indoors more than we had originally planned but that's okay because we had Sherlock and Doctor Who to watch and Rummy and FIFA 11 to play. Also, staying at the house meant a very limited amount of food to be consumed so I was happy with that aspect of it.

Even the Aloe plant got some festive lights.

Every year I make resolutions. They're usually concrete goals with vague ideas of how I'm going to achieve them. This year, I'm changing that. I've written up a few resolutions, now I'm siting down and mapping out how to make them a reality. A few of them are health and fitness related so they will be making it onto here soon but for now, I need to get ready for my rocking night in! That's right, I'm staying in. I was supposed to go to a friend's house party but while coming home from a board meeting last night at 9:00pm, I realised that I haven't been home for longer than a few hours (not including sleep) in the past eight days. My next two weekends are pretty full so tonight I'm just going to cuddle with my kitties and watch a few movies. Right now it's a toss up between Hot Fuzz and Office Space.

Happy New Year Everyone!

Christmas is Coming, The Goose and I Are Getting Fat

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat

Please put a penny in the old man's hat

If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do

If you haven't got a ha'penny, God bless you!

It is safe to say that the end of 2010 did not go as well as the start. Knee problems then a hip problem then getting knocked sideways by a flu have left me sliding backwards as far as my goal go. Clothes that were loose are feeling a big more snug. There are a few shoulda-coulda-woulda moments in the last three months, but I also cried on three separate occasions from the pain and discomfort in my hip so I'm not going to beat myself up about it. I'll just pick myself up and move on from here.

I attended a Christmas get-together in my apartment building last night. Our awesome building managers put out quite the spread along with their homemade wine and kid-friendly punch. I came away from the afternoon realising that other than a grand total of five plain chips I ate very healthy. Maybe the holidays don't have to be a worrisome time of year!

I am making Grandma's Molasses Cookies with my mom today. Grandma always had these cookies all year round so I'm not quite sure why it became a 'Christmas Only' cookie in our house but they're one of my favourite traditions of the season. To be honest, this is one treat I always overindulge in so I've already started mentally eating my 30 molasses cookies and seeing if it stops the random snacking throughout the afternoon.

Do As I Blog, Not As I Do

After all my big words about paying closer attention to my eating and being extra healthy because I couldn't really exercise at the moment, I went and had what was arguably the worst eating weekend in six months. It wasn't so much the eating that was bad, it was the drinking. Lots and lots of drinking.

A very good friend of mine, Lisa, recently bought her first home and so we celebrated with a rather raucous housewarming. After living in Tanzania, I stopped drinking. I still have the occasional glass of wine with dinner or the odd beer while watching a hockey game, but I no longer keep alcohol in the apartment 'just in case' nor drop $50 just in alcohol on a Friday night. Living in a conservative country will do that to you.

I made up for my lack of drinking on Saturday, let me tell you. I was asked to open a bottle of wine around 5:30 and pour three glasses. I spent the rest of the night opening bottles and filling any glasses in view including my own. When I left shortly after 10pm, there were six empty bottles of wine and only four people drinking from them. I honestly don't know how much of them I had consumed but I'm going to guesstimate it was around 'a lot'.

My one saving grace in all of this is the knowledge that I wasn't the only one who was that drunk. I won't give details because I'm not that mean, but I think it's safe to say that there will be a lot of people staring at the ground as they walk around work on Monday.

The only healthy thing I did was hang out with healthy people who've run marathons, won Ironmans, and rowed with the Canadian National Rowing Team. Does that count as being healthy? No?

I'll be better this week. Really.

Photo Highlights

It has been an emotional roller coaster of a week. As a result, healthy habits and nutritious food choices have often been put on the back burner. I'm through the worst of it. At the very least, the rain seems to be keeping the partiers across the road at bay tonight so hopefully I'll get a good night sleep. It hasn't been all doom and gloom, but I 'mtoo tired to write, so photos will have to do.

I had my first 'real' flamenco class. Love! It! Olé!

I hiked Wiffen Spit (Sooke) in the drizzle with a friend.

I'm a West Coast girl; I love the rain and fog in ways I can't explain.

I canned peaches with my mom. It reminded me of being a child.

I caught a momma raccoon giving her two babies a few life lessons until she spotted me.

After that she taught them the life lesson 'avoid the people'.

I experimented more with my camera.

I will allow myself one more day of questionable choices (only because I want popcorn at the movie) and then I'm back on the healthy bandwagon. Happy Friday!

Quick (for me) Update!

I meant to get on here for an update tonight but then I also meant to do a few household chores on my only night off this week... yeah, my bathroom floor will still be dirty tomorrow and I can live with that. I got in some quality cuddle time with my kitties and got a few other items off my 'when I have time' list that never seems to shrink. I did, however, have a few things to comment on so...

I made a joke a little over a week ago that eating at the Blue Nile always translates to a good week at my weigh-in. Well, there really must be something in the Ethiopian food because it held true again for a third time. I added another 5lbs star to my book. Obviously I need to start eating at the Blue Nile every week ;)

I had some potato chips on Monday. They were within my points so I didn't feel guilty about it but I wasn't really hungry, I just smelled them at someone else's desk and when they said 'help yourself' I did. Again, within my points so I didn't feel guilty. When it came time to run that evening, all I could feel inside me was the chips. I felt I must have eaten a pound of them, they just felt so heavy in my tummy, and it really made the last 1/2 mile of the run just seem to go forever and ever. It was a good reminder that just because something is within my points for the day, doesn't mean I need to eat it.

I have been hit and miss with the Water Challenge. Mostly hit, but occasionally I'll have a day like today where I didn't drink more than one glass at work. I tried to make up for it by drinking seven glasses in the last four hours but I've reached the point where any more water will just equal a 2am trip to the bathroom and I hate those even more than I hate missing my target. C'est la vie. Tomorrow is a new day. Every day is a chance to turn over a new leaf. A ten thousand mile journey begins with a single step. As God is my witness, I'll never go hungry again. Wait, what?

Good night... and try not to think about the Yankees in Tara.

I actually hate "Gone with the Wind" but it's hard to avoid when you love movies and history.

Nostalgia is the best seasoning

I know food is a big issue for me and I need to strive to make improvements in this area. I'm usually a fairly decent eater who loves to cook things from scratch, but I'm too willing to give into my cravings. A little bit here, a little bit there and it all adds up through out the day/week/month. My department at work is notorious for our food days, something we do almost bi-monthly, and as healthy as many of us try to be there's always someone who forgets and just picks up a bag of chips on his/her way in to work. Potato chips are my weakness as I love savory. I like sweet; I enjoy sweet. I love savory; I crave savory. To combat this on our last food day, I brought in nothing so I ate nothing. Well, that's not totally true; I was badgered into trying some guacamole. "It's the best you will have ever tasted." "It's heavenly; you have to try it." My coworkers were falling over themselves to compliment the guy who made it, and after the fifteenth time of being told to try it, I gave in. It was mediocre, at best. I faked an 'mmmmmmm', returned to my desk and was more than happy to ignore the table for the rest of the day after that waste of my taste buds.

So I know that food is an issue that I have to work on and what am I eating as I type this? Rice. White rice. Which I fried in oil after I cooked it. I have taken the unhealthiest rice option and made it worse. Why didn't I just serve it on a donut while I was at it? I have brown rice in the apartment (I actually prefer the taste of brown rice, I find white fairly bland... like the guacamole I mentioned above), but it had to be white rice and it had to be fried. I am having a nostalgia meal, and this meal takes me back to Tanzania and my roommate, K.

K and I met volunteering at the same orphanage outside of Arusha, TZ. We were roommates and immediately hit it off. When it came time for her to leave and continue on her travels, I took two weeks off to join her for part of it. We had a great time and by the time we hard parted ways, we had spent 51 days together. Because we were roommates, there was only 2 days that we were not together for 24 hours. Oh, how I wanted to go all the way to South Africa with her and when she extended the invitation it pained me to say no, but I had made a commitment to the orphanage that I had to honour. We've kept in touch through emails and the occasional letter, especially lately as she's thinking about coming out to Victoria/Vancouver this summer. In the meantime, she's off on another adventure; she's been in Egypt for a month and is about to cross into Jordan, and will make her way up to Turkey. After an exchange of emails about things to do when she's in Victoria (I suggested surf lessons up in Tofino, she thought that would be great... what have I gotten myself into?) I receive the following: We had so much fun travelling in Tanzania, why don't you come meet me in Turkey? That was it; just one simple sentence and I spend days dreaming about the idea.

I can't go to Turkey, not that I don't want to, but I've got school and a glaring lack of money staring me in the face. I turned down the offer and instead took a trip down memory lane. Not as exciting or glamorous as just packing up and heading off for adventure, but much cheaper and just as smile-inducing. That's were the fried rice comes in. See, we didn't have a microwave in our kitchen and K and I both had a horrible habit of cooking too much rice (they don't have brown rice in Tanzania... at least, not readibly available at the market. You have to go to the expensive "western shops" to get it), so breakfast often ended up being fried rice with a fried egg and a fried tomato (although I was the only one who had the fried tomato... Irish family) all cooked in Blue Band "spread" (a margarine product, what ever that means).

The good thing about K coming out to Victoria is that she's a very active person and it's giving me an added kick in the pants to get the food thing sorted and to stop letting exercises slip just because I'm doing something else (not nearly as) active. Now not only do I have the Juan de Fuca trail to do this year (in a matter of months--eek!) but now I'm probably going to have to do a pop-up on a surf board. That would be a heck of a lot easier if I'm carry around less weight. Come on self, you can do this... as soon as I finish my rice and fried egg dinner.

Addendum: K, incidentally, makes the best guacamole I have ever had. She'd make it and we'd eat it on toast for dinner.