www.liakela.com

i am empty
none to fill me
so much space inside
no place to hide
i’m laid bare
feeling nothing
my mind’s checked out
my heart is vacant
i’ve forgotten how to love
and be loved
i don’t know
if i want to remember

It’s getting harder and harder these days to tell what is spam and what is not.  So my new rule is this: if you are a spammer, and you comment on my blog, have the decency to at least admit to it. I may not mark your comment as spam, thereby allowing you to hawk your wares on my site, sharing space with my friends and family and people who actually give a shit about what I write (that group is relatively small, so I gather)..

But then again, I might not. Die, spammers. Die. In a fire. Gently.. and hopefully you’ll be sleeping or passed out from drinking too hard that night, but still. Die.

Last night after work, I went to the Dollar store in search of cheap kidney beans and those awesome rubbermaid bowls with the twist-tops.  I found them, and also a great spray that my coworker friend Sara had bought from this same store.. Renuzit pet something or other.. in a Citrus scent. It’s wonderful stuff, really.

So, I finally made the chili last night in the small crock pot, and here’s the recipe:

2 cans of diced tomatoes with green chilis
2 cans of tomato sauce
2 cans of light red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
1 lb 80/20 hamburger
1 lb of italian sausage
2 heaping tblspns diced garlic
1 packet of your favorite chili spice

Brown the meats and toss in a crock pot. Toss everything else in. Turn on crock pot. Stir. Wait an hour or two. Eat.

So after dinner, I figured I’d put up the rest of the chili, minus two bowls that I was going to take into work today, one for my lunch and one for Vicki — this is when I notice that I really didn’t pay close attention to the -size- of the bowls that I bought at the Dollar store.  They are 1.2 cups each.  They are very small.  But you know what.. maybe this is just how I get to handle tackling portion control in my life.. so, life? I ACCEPT YOUR CHALLENGE!

I’ve already had my chili for lunch, and it was delicious. And while I’m sure I could have eaten a lot more if it was in front of me, I’m satisfied with what I had. I’m also having an orange, which is delicious as well.

So here I am.. day 16. Pants are looser. Makes my mornings very happy.

So, it’s getting harder to deal with this no fast-food, no restaurant deal.  My brain is constantly trying to come up with ideas that it thinks I might actually fall for, rationalizations, etc.  Here’s just a few:

Subway is healthy. And you have to stand there and watch them make your food.. you’re consciously aware of what’s being put on to your sandwich, so is it really fast food?

Yes.

No one will know if you just pop over and get something to eat at (insert place I’m not supposed to be going to of your choice).  I mean, it’s just myself I’m letting down, right?

Yes, it is. Shut up and stop bothering me!

Stupid brain.  Anyway, last night’d dinner was a small can of plain tomato sauce which I Italian’d up, with 1/2 a can of lite cream of mushroom and roasted garlic soup.  I mixed that over pasta and frozen peas, and it was delish.  The sauce wasn’t extra creamy, but had an ‘umph’ that my spaghetti sauce doesn’t normally have — which was pretty cool!

Tonight I’m making chili with beef and sausage.  Just need to pick up some kidney beans.  The bonus of that is that I’ll freeze most of it and be able to drag a bowl out when I need a chili fix.  I want to do the same thing with a nice stew.  Should be able to this week.. but we’ll see. Woot!

Ok, so.. I came to my own personal realization and acceptance of the fact that I use fast food and eating out as a crutch.  It keeps me from doing two things I dislike doing by (and more importantly -for-) myself: shopping and cooking.

Cooking for people is awesome. Shopping for that is also ok.  I don’t really like shopping in general, but that part is ok.  But when it’s just me? Can’t I just stock my fridge up with as much deli meats and cheeses as it will comfortably hold and live off of sandwiches until the next time I have to cook for someone?

Apparently, while that’s a very appetizing idea — especially since I found a new bread that I’m currently in love with: Dark German Whole Grain Bread.  It’s bread from the Gods, and now the #1 reason why I will /never/ accede to putting myself on a low-carb diet.  No bread?  FASCIST!  Anyway, so back to what I was saying; while that’s a very appetizing idea to live off of sandwiches forever, it’s not exactly the best thing in the world for you nutritionally. Probably. If there are any nutritionists reading this and want to disagree? PLEASE. HELP A LADY OUT.

And so it’s been fast food or dining out for me. And that’s all well and good money-wise. Coupons and dollar menus make it a very simple decision when one is just thinking purely about the cost of eating in dollars.  But now I’m looking at the cost of what I’m eating in ass-size.  In how out of breath I am when walking from my car to my desk in the morning, and vice versa.  It’s just effing ridiculous — so, I’m using Lent as an excuse to test my willpower. Can I go for 40 days straight without going the easy route of drive thru’s and restaurants?

Today is day 7 of my health experiment.  I almost cheated yesterday when I saw a Captain D’s coming up and I actually had the thought, “Hey.. they have a salmon sandwich. That’s healthy, right?”  That’s not the POINT, Rachel. The point is to get off of the FF tit.  Cut the apron strings.  And stop rationalizing. No, it’s not -that- healthy after they slather it with mayo and put cheese on it.   So I didn’t stop, I went home, had an apple, and opened up a can of salmon and made a light mayo sandwich with salmon salad.  And it was good. Maybe I -can- live off of sandwiches. Please?  I’ll put veggies in and around them, even!

My body: HOLY CRAP. You have to go pee. RIGHT NOW. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Get up, run across the building! This is an emergency! Yes, leave Vicki to handle the phones by herself, she will understand!!

Me: Holy shit, ok! OK! Fine! *run run run, 1/2 way there pause to think of dry things… do a variation of the walking pee-pee dance, run run run*

Me: (getting to the ladies room, running for a stall, only JUST making it)

My body: (trickle tinkle, barely any liquid coming from me) Aaaaaaahahahahaahah! FOOLED YOU!!! Ahahahahaha, you should have SEEN your face! zomg, that was the FUNNIEST THING EVAR. No.. no.. no wait.. will you do that little dance again on your way back to your desk? Aaaahahahahahaha.

Me: Asshole.

I had a dream last night about Mikey, Brit, and Michelle.  We were “tourist shopping” in Wickford Village, in Rhode Island.  But it had turned into something that looked a lot more like Sturbridge Village, in Mass.  Very kitchy and touristy.  At one point, we lost Michelle, and Mikey said, “Oh, don’t worry. You know how Michelle is. She’s getting her shop on.”  I laughed in the dream, and it was apparently so amusing that I woke myself up laughing.

Best way to wake up, really.

I’ve got a great ex-coworker and friend who posted something on his LJ that I think is worthy reading for all of my friends. 

http://fragbert.livejournal.com/442522.html?view=4547226#t4547226

There’s nothing non-work-safe in the entry, but he does have his journal set for adult content.

Grandma & Newborns

Just fourteen years ago, this very minute, I was being wheeled back into my room, and I don’t remember a lot about what was going on around me — but I knew that I was now a mom, forever and ever. 

I remember their dad telling me about the birth, since he watched them being born via c-section, and I was having a personal freak-out because I had a chest cold, an epidural, and was lying flat on my back with no oxygen in and no support for my head. I tried to be present in the moment, but it just wasn’t happening. I kept squeezing Ace’s hand and apologizing for freaking out, and he kept holding my hand and peeking over the screen to watch  two little perfect beings coming into the world.

Joseph was first, a big boy at 7 lbs 1 oz — well, big for a twin, yeah?  He was round and wrinkly, and just so precious.  Anna was next, just a minute later — and I remember being told that she really didn’t appear to be ready to be born, because they had to gently unpry her fingers from inside me.  She was 6 lbs 10oz, still a very good size for a twin, but so different from her brother.  She was so delicate and small, just as perfect as her little brother, but serious where he seemed always ready to laugh and grin. 

Before we went to the hospital, I remember looking at one of the many stacks of newborn diapers that we’d accrued, and pulling one diaper out and looking at it — at how tiny it was and thinking that there was just no way it was going to be big enough for a real baby.  And then when we brought them home and changed their diapers with one of them, realizing how wrong I was.  I was nervous about everything, perpetually terrified that I’d inadvertantly ruin them somehow because I didn’t know enough, or read enough, or watch as many documentaries as I might have.

Anna and Joseph, you’ve both become amazing people.  And you’re only 14! You’re still at the beginning of your path, and universe-willing, I will be beside you on that path for as long as possible.

I love you both, Happy Birthday!

Almost 14, here!

Thanks to Laura Potts for bringing this to my attention:

They will be collecting school supplies for Knox County Teacher Supply Depot in lieu of fines May 3-10, 2009 at all library locations.

One approved school item will wipe out $10.00 worth of fines with a maximum of $50.00 worth of fines removed. Fees for lost or damaged materials or Unique Management referrals do not apply. Approved items include packs of construction paper, a bottle or stick of glue, scotch tape, a box of crayons, index cards, packs of ink pens, packs of notebook paper and post-it notes. All items must be new and in the original packaging. No used items will be accepted.
For more information, call 215-8750.

Eric? Calling Eric Trisler? I believe it was you, was it not, that had some leftover fines?