Brrrr

This is truly the winter of my discontent.

Slow boil

I can be really mean when I'm angry, and I'm angry right now.

The Man

This morning, I boarded the 7 train at Times Square and sat down. I then proceeded to watch two cops give two different people tickets for passing through the inside car doors to the next car. This is apparently malum prohibitum. Note that the train was not moving. It typically sits at Times Square for several minutes because it's the first stop on the line.

Normally I'm all about the NYPD enforcing "quality of life"-type laws, but do these cops really have nothing better to do than give a ticket to a person passing safely between two cars of a stationary train?

(sigh)

I am in a serious life rut.

Because I am awesome

I fell - hard - in the snow on my left hip/backside region about half an hour ago while walking downhill, carrying a box of Christmas decorations to our cellar.

The fact that I fell is not surprising. The fact that it didn't happen sooner is.

But nothing broke in the box.
Nothing broke on Kitch.

Just a very large imprint to remind me that I should not have skipped the gym today.

Victory is Mine

Today I am wearing jeans that I bought ten years ago. It is glorious.

Satisfaction

I was chatting with my sister the other day, which is among my favorite activities. She was very sweet in telling me that she is super proud of my weight loss and keeping-it-off efforts over the past 16 months or so. 53 pounds is admittedly a lot of weight to lose, and while I have more to go, I'm fairly happy with the way things are progressing in this regard. Anyway, my sister also told me that it was impressive because I hadn't just dieted, it was, like, a "lifestyle change."

Hmmm.

Is this true? I guess it has to be, right? I'm following Weight Watchers, which has been great, if for no other reason than because it makes you so aware of what you're actually eating. In sticking to the plan, more or less, I've had to make decisions and exert a little willpower and in the meantime, I'm eating foods that not only have fewer calories but are also good for me. And I'm exercising more, which makes me want to exercise more, which is also good for me.

This would all be much easier, of course, if I could reprogram my brain and taste buds to truly, truly enjoy ridiculously healthy foods. I wish that I could walk into a restaurant and actually prefer to order the mesculun greens with grilled chicken over the veal rollatini with proscuitto and extra cheese. Or that a simple fruit parfait would be preferable to a large cannolli or piece of pecan pie.

These people allegedly exist. They claim to abhor the sugary goodness of a fountain Coca-cola because "it's too sweet." They claim to adore the taste of raw carrot sticks such that the thought of a saltier or more fatty snack just doesn't appeal. They have no reason to order anything with butter, mayonnaise or cheese because they just don't like those foods anymore.

I will never be one of them. Yes, I enjoy fresh produce and simply prepared meals. But I also enjoy decadent foods and desserts.

I will never walk into a Dunkin Donuts and not want to order a glazed donut or a coffee cake muffin. I will always prefer fried chicken to grilled. I will always prefer a regular Coke to a Diet Coke. And to me there is nothing better to wash most anything down with than a tall glass of ice cold whole milk.

And I'm okay with that. Because every once in awhile, it's like a super-duper treat. Not eating those things on a regular basis and feeling better about myself (and better in general) is preferable to eating them all the time and being a big fat catastrophe.

Happy Maine

It's a brutiful day on my beach!

http://www.bayofmaineboats.com/webcam.htm

Is that sarcasm I detect?

I would LOVE to work this weekend, and Monday too, especially since I've spent just shy of 4 hours a day this entire week commuting to and fro so that I can sit around with nothing to do.

Enough

To those New Yorkers who insist upon whining about the (admittedly) frigid temps outside, please shut up, unless you were actually in the Hudson River this afternoon.

Talk about a miracle. That pilot is like, a superhero.

The Truth Hurts

I think I would be a better secretary than lawyer.

Novel Theory

Listen up, imaginary female readers.

I have a theory that if a boy spits (as in, for no reason, on the street) with your knowledge and within reasonable proximity to you, he's not interested in you romantically.

So.

I am watching Rachel Maddow, with whom I do not always agree but respect for her smart wit and simple, conversational tone. She seems like a genuinely reluctant celebrity who just wants to engage her friends and any randoms that might happen by in a practical and passionate political discussion.

I have on one of my more random post-work-sloth ensembles tonight, namely a XXL navy blue Illinois long-sleeved t-shirt, a grey ESPN logo pullover, brown pajama pants that have pink stars all over them, the black dress socks I wore for my commute today and my sock monkey slippers.

It is 9:45 p.m., and I am torn. I have been home from work for all of an hour, which was basically spent de-frocking and emerging as a sloth, washing my face and eating a bowl of blueberry Special K for dinner. I so want to slump down ever so slightly on the couch, pull up my red blanket and gently fall asleep within about 4 minutes. But that gets ugly when Jim wakes me up at 1:45 a.m. to get me to go bed, and I am some evil version of myself so I yell at him, because at 1:45 a.m all tones are hostile and all statements are accusations. So I really should get my ass up and just go to the comfort of my bed. But I'm just so warm and slovenly here.

Aged

I was trying to guess people's ages on the 7 train this morning. Luckily for everyone involved, this is a game I play silently, in my head. But it reminded me of a fascinating conversation I had with Jim's uncle on Christmas Day.

Jim's uncle is telling me that he recently came across a picture of Jim and me from probably 5 years ago and saying that he "couldn't believe it." So I play along, as I am wont to do, and I say something like, "Why, did I look exactly the same as I do now?" And then he looks at me sideways and exclaims, with gusto, "No! You looked so much younger! I didn't even recognize you! I had to ask (Jim's aunt) who was in the picture with Jimmy!"

Ouch.

So it seems I have aged, in a mere 5 years, to the point that I am unrecognizable.

I can't wait until I see him next. He'll probably ask me when the baby is due.

I love this Kate Spade bag

It goes by the name of Calabasas Paola, which is, coincidentally, the name I go by after a few too many glasses of sangria.

They're Everywhere

Some days I smell a lot of farts during my commute. Today was one of those days.

On Having Very Little to Do

Things are distressingly slow at work. There's only so much political and celebrity gossip one can read in a day, only so many times I can check my favorite sites for updates and (!) comments. I've reviewed all of the red carpet looks from the Golden Globes, and all I have to say is that I have a girl crush on Kate Winslet and that Marisa Tomei made me sad. They say that only boring people get bored, so I guess I qualify. Feeling much better after 5-day sinus attack, though. Just a little sniffle here and there.

Resolutions (TBC) -
(1) Write more.
(2) Bitch less.
(3) Cook more.
(4) Eat less (or at least the same) so I can lose remaining ~ 20 lbs.
(5) Keep the house a bit more tidy.
(6) Do something very un-Kitch-like.
(7) Sleep in longer stretches.

Short-term resolution: Resist dark chocolate-covered almonds in the Beaver. Walk to Penn Station tonight at a good clip. I miss exercise, stupid sinuses. Then I'm all over Gossip Girl and The City.